#and its totally not cause they’re head over heels in love and both in denial (lie)

[nikholascrow]

Remus and Sirius in the common room

Remus sitting in an arm chair Sirius sitting on the floor in front of him

Remus braiding Sirius’ hair while talking to James Peter and Marlene

no one questions it because they’re always like that always gently touching each other thats just how they are

[bunny-hoodlum]

Asynchronous With You: Ch 5

ship: naruhina

rating: teen (maybe mature later)

tags: Modern Day AU, Foster Siblings, Family, Angst, Unrequited Love, Poor Communication/Noncommunication, Found Family

summary: An awkward journey full of self-denial and missed moments between two foster siblings. Perhaps their love will find the right timing someday.

Neji met them outside the dorm gates. As generous as his dorm-mate Lee was, he couldn't ask him to step out for their sake.

They followed Neji to a nearby linear park that segregated the school grounds from the business park on the other side. It felt like a glass-less greenhouse, with polished granite beneath their feet and a vine-carpeted roof overhead. The benches were slabs of granite, as were the other fixtures, like an orb fountain in the center, with flawless skin of water running over its surface. The full trees muffled the night, with its crickets and distant chugging cars. The gentle, steady trickle contrasted against their footsteps, like two off-tempo drums and hers a mournful castanet.

Now that they were finally here, she was beginning to lose her nerve, she was forgetting what she had to complain about.

All that mattered was that she was healthy, right? All that mattered was that they were actually taking good care of her.

But the last thing she said to her, telling her to go home, saying that at least one of them should be loved by their parents, it began to eat at Hinata.

Could it be that she doesn't have any love to come home to?

Like resonance, her soul trembled and her ribs ached. The heel of her palm pressed against the skin between her wet eyes.

"I've become like them. I messed up."

The bench caught her before she could sink down to the ground.

"What're you talking about?" came Naruto's voice, barely reaching her ears.

"You mean Aunt and Uncle?"

Hinata nodded.

"What??" Naruto smacked his forehead rather hard. "How were you supposed to act?! They knew where you were! Nothing was stopping them from taking you guys back--"

"We don't know that." Hinata argued.

"Bullshit!"

"We don't," Her shoulders lifted, turning rigid. "They could barely take care of the two of us. It would've been the same if they had to take care of two daughters--"

"What about visits? What's so hard about keeping in touch?!"

She stayed silent. It wasn't that she hadn't considered that, it was that it was too upsetting to ruminate on any deeper.

"Ten years, Hinata. They had to have lied to her, right? Raised her believing she was an only child? C'mon, why aren't you angrier about this?!"

She wasn't sure if it was defiance that lifted her chin, but the eyes she chose to meet were Neji's as she implored him join in.

His eyes closed as he released a pensive sigh. "What's she like?"

"Don't change the subject," Naruto snapped. "Hinata needs to vent."

She prodded Neji with her stare. He shook his head.

"Who are you talking about?" Neji punctuated his rhetoric with a sidelong glance, causing Naruto to bristle. "This Hinata?"

"Yeah, this Hinata. Our Hinata. What the fuck, we've shared the same home for ten years! Hinata! You vent! You vented the other month about your-your shirt!" His face reddened as he brought up, perhaps, the worst example he possibly could.

"I was in a weird mood," Hinata said quickly, giving Naruto whiplash.

"A--A 'weird' mood?! What, like you just felt like messing with me kind of 'weird'??"

Hinata lamely shrugged her shoulders before curling in on herself like an armadillo. She could only imagine how exponential his irritation was to increase. She should've answered Neji's question right away instead of trying to convey her complaints to Neji, because now they were getting way off topic. Which was ironic for Naruto, who thought Neji was the one diverting attention away from her pain.

Neji pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know what the story is, and I don't think I want to know."

"Good. 'Cuz I don't want to talk about it." Naruto huffed as he crossed his arms.

Silence lapsed around them. Somehow Hinata was rather surprised their arguing managed to fizzle out on its own and so quickly. The past was almost laughable in how different it was from the present.

'That's right. It's always going to be rocky at first, but it takes time to get used to one another.' This was proof that she and Hanabi could grow into sisters no matter how much time had been lost.

"Her name's Hanabi. Her favorite foods are bananas and milk, and she hates the herb mitsuba. She's cheerful, cheeky, and surprisingly athletic. And... I really want to get to know her better." The tears fell swifter and harder on her lap as she re-conjured the heartbroken betrayal she had put on Hanabi's face.

She really hoped it wasn't too late.

Neji joined her side and rubbed her back, while Naruto kept his distance.

Even though he had been given Neji's explicit blessing years before, somehow it didn't feel appropriate for him to console her too.

Looking at them now, it was like those two had never grown apart, not even a centimeter. And they had been communicating with their eyes, he was sure of it. Speaking around him, because he wasn't actually a part of this.

They're what real siblings look like.

________________________

Taking the midnight train back home, Naruto spent the next thirty minutes absorbed in the things that amused him, from sexy two-minute shorts, to prank compilations and this one guy from Kaminari that totally bites at rapping. Absolutely no one, neither he nor his 745k followers know if he's a comedy channel where he's bad on purpose, or if he's just gotten popular for all the wrong reasons, but watching him never fails to inspire a deep gut-laugh from Naruto.

Because he wouldn't be laughing this hard if something was bothering him, especially not a whole host of somethings.

He ignored how arriving at their station didn't feel quite right, how following Hinata didn't feel normal.

He was surprised when she finally started talking to him, yet the weariness her voice instilled was not lost on him.

"Who was the first girl you liked?"

"Hm? Oh, guess that'd be Sakura-chan."

"I see. And how old were you when you knew?"

"Eight, I guess?"

"Eight," The number floated from her mouth in an amazed whisper, "Do you think somebody already likes Hanabi-chan?"

A blond brow perked up. "Is this that protective Onee-san instinct kicking in already?" When she giggled, his heart sank.

"I suppose it is."

And when the silence closed in on him again, he spoke up to keep it going. "Uh, what about you?"

Her steps faltered for a second, then picked up with an exaggerated bounce. "There's someone."

"Still? Like, ongoing?"

"Mmhm."

Naruto blinked rapidly, whiplash striking again. How? How did he not know his sister liked someone? "Since when?"

"Mmmm," She hummed that note a little too long that bordered on mocking him, and he was about to storm on ahead of her, until she said, "Third grade."

"What?!" Ineloquent as that was, he somehow expected her to answer him. He stood there as she traipsed away, waiting until he was finally fed up. "Well, who the fuck is it?!"

"Guess."

He jogged after her. "Kiba?" His mouth soured at the thought.

She crossed her forearms into an 'X', making the buzzer sound in game shows when the contestant got the answer wrong. "Bubuu."

"Shino?" He didn't know what to think about that if it were true. Guess they were both quiet and smart and a little weird. Is that what compatibility looks like?

"Bubuu," she went again.

What other guys was she in contact with?

Shikamaru was a good friend who came over to game sometimes, but he definitely didn't sense anything there. No, no way it could be him. And everyone was pretty sure Sai was asexual.

"Sasuke?" Why not? He was the school heartthrob nine years running. Didn't matter whether Naruto understood the taste of girls or not, they all wanted him. He kinda wishes he noticed sooner now, because he imagining a plain girl like her pining for someone unreachable and he really hates that for her. When she slows to a stop under the streetlamp, he thinks he's finally figured it out, though the truth ended up being really anticlimactic in the end.

She half-turns towards him, her face blank save for the edge of distaste clinging to the corners of her lips and eyes.

"Gross."

He reeled back. "Gross? Whaddya mean gross?" She continued on her way, forcing him to jog after her. "Hey, I can't believe you think he's gross! Are you just being a contrarian?" Her pace picked up faster. "Y'know, like what unpopular girls do when they can't fit in?"And faster. "You really think he's gross?" She was hurrying on ahead and he was trying to catch a glimpse of her face, just a little bit of veracity. "Hinata?!"

They arrived at the steps of their apartment.

"You have until graduation to guess!" She called over her shoulder as she ran ahead, her voice pitching high at the end.

She was upset.

Her footsteps resounded through the corridors like frantic clapping, but he wasn't being congratulated at all.

It was finally apparent to him that he hasn't paid attention to Hinata in a long, long time. That's why Neji was making fun of him.

He took the elevator to their apartment, and when he reached the hole between their bedrooms, he got down on both knees and crouched his spine. They haven't used this in years, he couldn't believe how small they used to be, this hole had to be over three feet from the floor. It was making his back hurt. "Hinata," He bit his tongue with a pause. "What happens if I can't guess by graduation?" Nothing. Just silence. "Hinata? Are you not going to talk to me anymore?"

"Yeah," If a ghost could croak, that's what it sounded like. "If you can't guess by graduation, I'm not going to talk to you anymore."

He palmed the wall as he drew to full height, then stepped away, neither urgency nor insult registering in his chest. He didn't know what was in there. Maybe nothing. He raised his voice a little, just enough so that she could hear.

"I'm going to take this another weird mood of yours, okay? There's no way you really mean that."

Hovering for half a second more, he didn't give her time to respond as he headed for his bed on the opposite side of the room.

Maybe Sakura had the right idea about family. Maybe it's better to just find your own.

________________________

AN: Lel, I totally forgot to add the summary and ratings thing in the last chapter. 😜😅 Hope you liked this one!

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Dear Mr. Fantasy

Summary: Sometimes when he sleeps, Dean sees flashes of other Dean Winchesters, in other universes. His dreams lately have been filled with himself in a thousand forms, a thousand different versions of what could have been. Dean likes to think that they’re made of the same star stuff, but whatever the cause, he feels the connection. 

Warnings: SEASON 15 SPOILERS, bit of angst. 

Author’s Note: Inspired by Traffic’s “Dear Mr. Fantasy” and the header image; prompt given by @thoughtslikeaminefield​. Love you. @cabin-fever-bang​ prompt fill. So many thanks to @cracksinthewalls​ and @there-must-be-a-lock​ for exceptional editing and motivation. Also love both of you.

Word Count: 2157

ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

Dear Mr. Fantasy

Sometimes when he sleeps, Dean sees flashes of other Dean Winchesters, in other universes. His dreams lately have been filled with himself in a thousand forms, a thousand different versions of what could have been. Dean likes to think that they’re made of the same star stuff, but whatever the cause, he feels the connection. 

Some have been vastly different (he spent an entire day lost in thought about a female version of himself who was apparently a rodeo queen by day and monster hunter by night). 

Some are so similar that the lines between his actual self and the other blur to the point of confusion; is he dreaming about himself or a different Dean who made one different choice twenty years ago?

He can always tell the difference, eventually. A scar in the wrong place, an absent friend or loved one still around or maybe someone gone who shouldn’t be. In one universe, someone neglected Baby (couldn’t have been Dean, had to’ve been Sam) to the point where she pulls slightly to the left. 

Dean spends the morning after that dream with a muscle tick in his cheek and a suspicious, side-eyed glare for Sam that he never bothers to explain.

But there’s one particular Other Dean, a favorite one his mind drifts to during rare peaceful moments. Daydreaming when he should be researching, drifting off when a particular song plays on the radio while he’s working on Baby, even washing his hands sometimes will pull him back to those dreams. 

Unsurprisingly, his favorite alternate world has no monsters. It’s not that he isn’t aware of monsters in this dimension, that he doesn’t hunt them. No, in this other world, there’s no magic, no terrifying creatures of the night at all. He can feel the lightness of this world, steadiness that comes with not having to worry about whether a vampire is going to make this evening walk your last or a wendigo is going to join you on your camping trip.

Dean has a theory that this world was a test world, one where Chuck decided to just let things evolve as they would with very little interference. Humanity still has its issues: war, plague, famine, politics, streaming services that have lived long enough to become the villain. 

But no monsters.

Chuck has left this world more or less alone, and Dean is pretty sure he knows why. In God’s eyes, a world without monsters is stale. This alternate world is a world without supernatural conflict, without apocalypse-level struggle, without life and death and good and evil and all that high-stakes, cursed-destiny crap Chuck literally eats for breakfast.

Boring. This world is a snoozefest for Chuck, and Dean’s okay with that.

In fact, he loves it.

He’s been rooting for this world for a while now. He still dreams of it sometimes, so he knows somewhere deep inside that it’s still around. He knows all the worlds will be destroyed eventually, wiped away by Chuck’s callous cruelty. But this one…

Dean’s not the sentimental type, not really, but if he could send it a greeting card, it’d be that cat from years ago on the motivational poster, clawing onto a tree branch.

Hang in there, baby.

He must have done something right for once, because he drifts off and finds himself back there again. He’s a little older in this universe, and he suspects his other self is in denial about beginning to need glasses. A shame, too. A mechanic’s gotta be able to see what he’s doing, and the eyestrain headaches his other self suffers every night would probably clear up completely if he’d just go get his eyes checked.

But they both know he won’t. 

He sees better with his hands than his eyes these days. At forty-eight years old (none of that years young bullshit, either; he’s old, and he’s goddamn earned it), he’s spent his entire life in a garage working on one motor or another, same as his dad before him, and so on. 

It’s honest work, clean despite the grease, and Dean himself has used his own money to help put at least a couple of generations of little Winchesters through college or wherever their hearts took them, starting back with his brother. Dean and his dad both feel pride over Dr. Winchester, the history professor. Might not make as much as a mechanic, but he’s happy and settled, and really, what man could ask for more?

The best part of this Dean’s day, the best part of his whole life, is her. He’s known her for nearly three decades and loved her just as long. 

He was a twenty-year-old punk, learning his way through the art of motorcycles. He’d spent his life so far working on muscle cars, something he would never completely tire of, but now he was in absolute heaven. Dad’s buddy Danny Elkins had agreed to take Dean on, and Dean had taken to bikes like it was meant to be. 

Four months into his new life, Danny’s daughter brought her dad lunch, and, for the first time in his life, Dean wondered whether there might actually be a woman who could pull his attention from an engine for longer than a night or two. 

It was more or less instant attraction for the both of them, kinda like the movies that she loved to watch. Unlike those movies, however, there was no disapproving father to contend with or prove himself to.

“She’s a big girl and can crack your skull just as good as me,” he’d told Dean. “Pretty sure she’s settled on ya, so just make sure you’re worth it.”

So that’s what Dean did. 

Tonight’s dream finds the older Dean alone in the garage, and the sun is at the tail end of setting. Splashes of indigo and orange paint the horizon, framing her approach in a wash of colors blending into shadows that hold no danger.

“Figured you’d forget dinner tonight, what with your new toy. Thought we could share, and you could show me what you’ve been up to.” 

She doesn’t really care about the bikes, the cars, any of it. She only cares that it matters to him, and whatever keeps him running is something she wants to be a part of.

Surrounded by motorcycles in various states of repair and assembly, they speak quietly of their day, sharing the tiny details and separate moments that make up their simple life. She feeds him a bit of meatloaf with her fingers, and he eagerly returns the favor by sucking a smear of mashed potatoes from the corner of her mouth.

She sets the dinner containers aside, twisting to the side to reach for the apple cobbler she made yesterday, when he realizes he can’t stand even that bit of separation between. He’s been without her all day; that’s too much to ask of any man.

“C’mere,” he says.

Dessert forgotten, she settles astride his lap, arms linked around his neck, smiling that serene combination of lips and eyes and cheekbones that makes his heart twist and his groin swell same as the first time she turned them on him thirty-odd years ago. 

They’ve sat like this a thousand times, and he prays silently he’ll get at least a thousand more. When they were kids, crazy and hungry for every experience, she’d come into the garage in her little tank top, her tiny shorts showing off her new ink, heels fit to kill someone (how she never broke an ankle has always been a mystery and a miracle, in both Deans’ opinions).

She scrubs a thumb over his bearded jawline, humming deep in her chest. She’s swapped the tiny skirts for jeans, although he thanks his lucky stars every day that fashions have moved from bootcut back to skinny. Harder to get off quick, but damn does he love the lines of her legs in ‘em.

They press foreheads together as an old Traffic song plays over the radio, swaying gently, always in sync. 

“Dear Mr. Fantasy, play us a tune,” he half-whispers, half-sings, breath warm on her cool cheek.

“Something to make us all happy,” she answers in kind, eye closed. She slides her nose alongside his, runs her chin over his wiry beard, smiles into his kiss as it buffs her face red. 

Perhaps in remembrance of their long-past youth, she’s chosen her smallest tank-top, one she’d normally never wear without at least a button-up over it, and he drops his head to rub his cheeks over the bare skin over her collarbone. Her legs link behind his back, anchoring her as she leans back to allow him more access. 

God, what she can still do to him. The salt of her skin, the fragrance of her perfume that he picked out for her on their first anniversary that she’s worn religiously ever since, the silk of her hair that he tangles between fingers that still tremble with eager nerves.

Older Dean and worn-out, monster-plagued Dean sigh together, content down to their bones. This life is it for both of them. She is it. One Dean still can’t believe his amazing luck after all these years, and the other aches at the simple, total happiness he feels honored to witness.

“Dean.”

The older man runs a reverent hand down his wife’s arm, twining his fingers with hers. He kisses her knuckles, a few more crinkles lining his eyes as he smiles.

“Dean, wake up.”

The scene before him begins to fade as she takes his face between her hands, kisses his temples, the spot between his eyes, the corner of his mouth. For just a second, this Dean (the “real” Dean, as Chuck put it) feels those kisses, looks deep into her eyes and feels that warmth and light that she brings to the other man’s life. 

I love you, she whispers, and he allows himself to believe for one moment that she’s talking directly to him.

“Dean, come on, Cas has a lead.” Sam’s voice finally breaks the dream wide open, and Dean reluctantly opens his eyes. “We gotta go check it out. Get dressed.”

“Yeah.”

He sits up slowly, feeling each of his forty-one years with an ache that no longer surprises him. He swings his legs over the side of his bed, rests his elbows on his knees, and drops his face in his hands. If he concentrates hard enough, he can still feel her phantom caress, her thumb against his cheekbone, her lips on the corner of his.

I love you.

Dean scrubs at his face with hands that get a little older and a little more scarred every day. Warrior’s hands, a testament to his hunts and battles. If he squints a little (maybe he needs an eye exam, too) he can imagine they’re different sorts of scars: burns from hot engines, cuts and scrapes from tools and every-day hard work rather than knives and punches. 

He inhales, gathering strength, putting on his mental armor piece by piece. A knight, riding off to save the world from the devouring dragon. He reaches over and grabs his jeans, sliding them on and standing in a smooth motion that is accompanied by only one or two pops and cracks.

I love you.

Dean doesn’t know how this is all going to end. He knows how he won’t let it end: him against Sammy, to the death and all that biblical Cain and Abel crap. But beyond that, he’s going to fight to save his brother, all of his little patchwork family, because they’re all he has in this world. 

He wonders briefly if his other self’s wife exists in this world, or if she’s just an anomaly, a one-time figment of Chuck’s imagination. He’s pretty sure it’s the latter; a man can only get that lucky once in a thousand lifetimes, and that other Dean is that one in a thousand.

This Dean could search a lifetime and never find her. She’s already been found, and maybe, just maybe if he and Sam can get their act together and bring the final beatdown on Chuck in enough time, he can save her. He can’t have her, but he could save her world, leave her safe and happy with his other self.

“Let it be enough,” he says aloud, not sure if he’s coaxing himself or the universe. He says it again, one more time for luck. 

It has to be enough.

…

“Dear Mr. Fantasy” by Traffic

Dear Mister Fantasy, play us a tune,  Something to make us all happy. Do anything, take us out of this gloom.  Sing a song, play guitar,  Make it snappy.  You are the one who can make us all laugh,  But doing that you break out in tears.  Please don't be sad if it was a straight mind you had.  We wouldn't have known you all these years.

[george-mackay-macfine]

Bad At Love

A/N I’ve been inundated with a lot of requests for Dean one-shots, and I realised there are little to no Dean centric fanfics, Oneshots etc... So I’ve repurposed an old story I was writing to fit as a Dean story. 

If you requested a Dean oneshot I am still working on them, but I wanted to show Dean some love. 

Introduction:

You know that feeling you get when you’re going down the stairs and you accidentally skip a step and you think you’re falling and you think you’re going to die but then your foot lands on the next step and it’s like nothing ever happened? Well if you multiply that feeling by one thousand, make it last so much longer, and mix it with hate, paint, satisfaction, anger, lust, relief, anxiety, passion, shock, guilt, denial and frustration then you’ll understand what it’s like to fall in love. To fall in love with someone so passionately that your world revolves around them, and what they're doing and how their feeling. At least that’s what it was like for me. 

Chapter One 

“The Beatles, White album… John Lennon, Milk and Honey… Stevie Wonder.” I mumbled to myself as I flicked through the crates filled with old vinyl before me. Brighton's was a popular vinyl store and cafe nestled in the outskirts of Georgetown. It was a diamond in the rough if you were looking for a good record store. Brighton's was filled with them, a two-story loft building packed to the brim with vinyl, new and old. The bottom level was sorted neatly into genres and then by the artists, but the top-level and my own personal favourite was where the crates filled with albums the owners haven’t got around to sorting yet, This is where you find all the gems.

“Writing a shopping list there Sienna?” I looked up from the Jimmy Buffet ‘Living and Dying 3/4 Time’ album I was holding to see my best friend Halley staring at me, amused pausing digging through her own crate. Her green eyes sparkling with excitement as she pushed her honey blonde hair behind her left ear. Her thin lips pulling into a knowing smirk. 

“If that’s what you want to call it Halley.” I laughed putting the Jimmy Buffett album on top of my other selections before sifting through the albums again. Bob Dylan… Bon Iver… I smiled over at Halley as we both listened to someone on the bottom level lift the arm off the player, the distinct sound of the record stopping filling the store before the sound of Elton Johns ‘Bennie and the Jet’s’ blasted through the sound system. I laughed at myself as I did a little shuffle to the music. Elton’s voicing rebounding around the room. 

“So.. Sienna.” I nodded my head for Halley to continue as I went back to my growing pile, hips swaying as I flipped through it again checking over everything I’d found. Bowie… Fleetwood Mac… “I was thinking about our plans for tonight.” Halley voiced hesitantly. I looked up at her, one of my eyebrows shooting up. She was biting her bottom lip as she held onto her own pile of vinyl, knuckles turning white from the grip she had on them a telltale sign she was nervous. 

“That could be dangerous.” I joked turning and making my way to the other side of the amply sized loft, looking down and over the bottom level of the shop littered with people, pulling vinyl out left, right and centre. I watched as a guy in his mid-thirties picked up a copy of Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’. “Do you think he’s going to buy it?” I called over my shoulder to Halley, not taking my eyes of the man. She sighed, but put her pile down none the less, and worked her way over to me, agitated that I’d changed the subject. “The guy with the Jackson.” I pointed down to him. “I think he will.” 

“I don’t think so.” Halley shook her head watching him with me. “He’s totally not into it.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes at Halley. “Alright then. Let’s make it interesting.” Halley turned to me, a smiling pulling on her lips and she toiled with an idea in her head. “If he buys it you get to choose what we do tonight.” I couldn’t help but smile already tasting the red wine and hearing the sweet sounds of Fleetwood Mac. “But.” Halley rudely shook me from my daydream. “If he doesn’t buy it, you have to do whatever I want to do tonight.” I opened my mouth to disagree but she held up her hand to stop me. “With a smile on your lips and pure joy in every step you take.” 

I looked between my best friend and the guy on the bottom floor. Judging quickly if I really thought he’d buy it, as I looked at him for the second time he’d started to pull the vinyl out and check the date stamped on it. I made up my mind. 

“You’re on.” With a final nod at each other, we both spun on our heels and leaned over the balcony watching the man below like hawks. “Come on man, you know you want it,” I whispered under my breath. “Just buy it already, come on.” I groaned as he flipped it over for what felt like the hundredth time. “Who doesn’t like Michael Jackson.” 

“He’s not going too.” I could hear the smirk in Halley’s voice. I ignored her and held my breath as he pushed the vinyl back inside its cover. Watching with wide eyes as he slipped it back into the crate it started in and turned away, walking down the centre aisle towards the door, crushing any hope I had of sitting home and drinking red wine with every step he took. 

“No.” I cried out loudly as he made it to the front door, people turned and looked up at us including the guy who’d just sentenced me to a night of Halley controlled fun. Waving awkwardly at everyone as Halley hooked an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to her body. She giggled as she squeezed my shoulder. 

“As I was saying before.” She cleared her throat. I could tell she was taking too much pleasure from the situation. “Tonight we are going to that new pizza place, the one Stacey was telling me about last week, Uncle Tony’s where we will find some cute boy’s to buy us beers.” She wiggled her eyebrow’s at my teasingly as she dropped her arm from my shoulder turning her body to face mine. “And then we are joining the girls at the Ivy to dance the night away and make sweet, sweet mistakes we won’t remember in the morning.” I opened my mouth to object to her plans, but Halley held a hand up to stop me. “You made a deal. You cannot back out Sienna Jacobs. I won’t let you.” She lowered her hand. “Now you will come back to our apartment, get yourself ready and we will have fun tonight. Have I made myself clear.” I nodded my head a slight pout on my lips. “Good, now go and buy your records.” She clapped her hands together gleefully. “Tonight is going to be so much fun.”

“So much fun,” I mumbled sarcastically as I walked back over to my deserted pile of treasures.  

One of the numerous things I had learned about Halley through our eighteen years of friendship was that Halley Morgan Adams was never late she despised it, that’s why not even five hours later I was sitting in the front seat of her yellow Kia Soul, dressed in a pair of skin-tight black jeans and a white t-shirt with Elvis Presley’s mug shot on it pouting my arse off. “Are you ready?” With a flick of her hair and a smile she started up the ignition and drove far to quickly to the new pizza place, ’Uncle Tonys’ that we’d been hearing non-stop raving reviews about for the last week and a half. For the first part of the ride I promised myself I wouldn’t speak to Halley, partly to punish her for the night we had ahead of us, and partly because I was upset that I wasn’t at home listening to my new records. However, when we’d been in the car for ten minutes with nothing but Taylor Swift playing through the sound system I resigned to my fate and turned it down, deciding a conversation was the lesser of two evils. 

“Are you excited to start classes again tomorrow?” I quizzed Halley as I watched the bright lights of the street pass us by. “In my opinion spring break went way too quickly, and we should have two more weeks off.” I nodded my head to reinforce my opinion causing Halley to chuckle. 

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to have to put down the book’s you’ve been reading non-stop in exchange for a textbook.” She snorted out a laugh as she pulled to a stop at a red light. 

“Untrue. I just rather the works of Stephen King, over having to hand in assessment’s, any day.” She shook her head laughing at me. 

“You’re the one who wanted to become a big hot shot editor, now you have to pay the price.” She replied quickly taking off when the light turned green. “We’re here.” She smiled as she pulled into a carpark and began to drive around in a circle looking for a vacant spot. “There’s one.” She smiled proudly as she pulled into an empty spot putting the gear stick into park. 

“Don’t hate on my aspirations okay, Ms I wanna be an HR administrator,” I muttered as I unbuckled my seatbelt, pushing the door open. As I stood next to the car I looked over the stand-alone building. A fluorescent sign that read ‘Fresh Pizza’ glowed in the window. The outside housed tables with red and white checked cloths, couples and families sat laughing and enjoying the food before them. 

“It’s a realistic dream okay.” Halley glared over the car at me, before walking towards the trunk, stopping and looking over the building for herself. 

“C’mon.” She smiled delightedly as she skipped through the carpark towards the front door. I shook my head and followed behind her, watching as she happily waited by the door for me to catch her. “This place is so cute.” She called back, peering through one of the glass panels on the door as I reached her. “Oh, he’s even cuter.” She giggled pulling the door open, both of us stepping inside. 

Once inside Halley and I took a minute to look around. The walls were painted a soft yellow filling the whole inside with a soft warm glow, a wall of fake stones lined the far wall with paintings of olives hanging above each of the booths that ran along with the stones. All the tables apart from two booths were filled, a mix of college students and families occupying them filling the whole restaurant with a loud buzz. I guess we aren’t the only ones excited to try out the new pizza. Grabbing my hand Halley pulled me over and down to one of the empty booths, pushing me down onto the plush red seat before sitting down on the opposite side. 

“Can you believe how busy this place is?” She rolled her eyes as she put her clutch beside her on the seat. “You’d think people would have better things to do.” She looked around at the tables. I rolled my eyes and looked around the restaurant.  

“Wouldn’t that mean that we should have better things to do Halley?” She flipped me off quickly before waving down the waiter with a flirty smile. He smirked at her as he walked over from the bar leaning across the table to give her a wink as he pulled out his order pad and pen.

“What can I get you, ladies?” His eyes travelled up Halley’s body, stopping to check out her cleavage. Halley smirked as she ran a hand up and down his arm. 

“Can we get two beers and a large pepperoni pizza?” Halley looked at me raising an eyebrow in question. I nodded my head and looked around trying to avoid watching the scene that was playing out before me.  

“Of course, I’ll make sure it’s the next one to come out…” The boy stuttered out looking down at where Halley’s fingers ran up and down the length of his hand, with a nod the waiter walked away from us fanning himself with the pad turning to look back at Halley once more a goofy love-struck smile on his face. 

“You need to stop doing that to boys.” I laughed resting my chin on my palm as I looked around the restaurant. “Seriously one day, one of them is going to have a heart attack and we are going to be sued.” I leant across the table. “In case you didn’t realise. We don’t have enough money to be sued.” 

“We?” She questioned with a raised brow a smile pulling on her lips.

“You don’t think I’m going to let you go to jail on your own do you?” 

“This is why we are best friends Sienna.” She chuckled. “Where did that cute guy go?” She looked around through the crowd searching for whoever she saw through the window. That’s Halley Adams my boy crazy best friend. 

“The two beers and the pizza.” The waiter called placing a beer before each of us and the pizza in between. As he placed Halley’s beer in front of her I couldn’t help but notice the napkin with a scrawled number that went along with it. Halley smirked at me before winking at him. “Told you it’d be the next one out.”

“That you did. Thanks.” With a nod of his head, the blushing boy raced back behind the bar only to start chatting to his friend. I laughed and shook my head as I watched him point over to Halley. “He’s telling his friend isn’t he?” She asked looking down at the napkin picking it up. “Riley… Cute name.”

“Cute name, for a cute boy.” I shrugged playing with the ring that sat on my right ring finger, spinning it. “You know he probably stole this pizza from another table?” Halley looked up from the paper, “One that’s been waiting for way longer than us.” I emphasised leaning forward onto the table. 

“Least we didn’t have to wait.” She laughed picking up a slice, her eyes looked past mine before snapping back to me. “Don’t look now, but here comes my number one fan.” I turned and looked to where she was looking only a moment ago, finding exactly what she had seen. “Xander Preston… Even his name gives me the creeps.” Halley muttered as Xander stood up from one of the tables near the door sauntering across to us he glanced back at his friend they all cheered loudly at him when he turned back around, a smirk playing on his lips as he overconfidently strutted past a table filled with girls, winking at them. When he reached us he sat down beside Halley throwing an arm around her shoulders. Halley and I both looked at the offending object before looking to Xander. “Can we help you, Xander?” I watched as Xander pushed his black hair out of his brown eyes watching Halley as she spoke, concentrated on her lips. Halley tried to shrug his arm off her shoulder, shuffling down on the booth seat. 

“Just came to see my number one girl.” His fingers started to play with the thin strap of her dress, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, his arm still hugging her shoulders. He stopped, looking over to me. “And her best friend of course.” 

“Really Xander? Your ‘number one’ girl?” Halley rolled her eyes. Xander smirked wider as he lifted her chin with his hand.  

“C’mon baby, you know you are.” 

“You misplace something, Preston?” Xander jumped in his seat immediately removing his hand from Halley’s shoulder. “Or do you just enjoy touching girls who clearly don’t want to be touched by you?” My eyes flicked away from Xander to where the booming voice had come from, next to our booth stood a group of three guys. The one in front was muscular and well built, his forearms bulging as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Well?” His blue eyes shot invisible daggers into Xander’s body. Xander smiled awkwardly jumping out of the seat he was occupying and putting as much space between himself and Halley as he could scratching the back of his neck. I rolled my eyes as Xander started to splutter out a reply and looked past him to the two guy’s who stood behind the first watching the scene play out. I looked at all three of them, noticing they wore matching black t-shirts with The Ivy printed on them with gold stitching. 

“No I, I just… Halley is my…” Xander squirmed. I looked back to him watching silently as he looked between Halley and I waiting for one of us to save him. “We’re just…” He tried to explain to the intimidating stranger. “She’s my…” 

“Halley isn’t your anything, understand?” The stranger didn’t break eye contact with Xander. I looked at Halley whose mouth hung slightly open as she watched the stranger. “She is not a piece of meat. So if I see you lay a single hand on her ever again I’ll beat the shit out of you.” The guy leaned in closer to Xander. “You got that Preston?” Stranger number one hissed getting even closer to Xander’s face as he spoke, each word sounding more and more dangerous than the last. Nodding his head rapidly Xander scurried back to the table where his friends sat watching the whole fiasco play out before them.  Stranger number one stared Xander down for another minute before he turned back to the table leaning onto it slightly towards Halley. “Sorry about that,” Halley shook her head quickly. 

“No thank you for helping… I’ve been trying to get him to leave me alone for weeks.” Halley giggled as my eyes left Halley’s knight in shining armour once again and drifted over to the third member of the group. He looked as though he was twenty-four, standing with both his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his black skinny jeans like the others he wore the black shirt with gold stitching above the breast. I let my eyes run over his body, drinking in his features. Starting with the ink that covered his left arm where little space of bare skin remained untouched by the intricate tattoo’s wrapping around the exposed muscle. My eyes drifted up over his torso and to his face. He has a sharp jawline, standing out prominent, his cheeks tanned, and covered with days worth of stubble. His eyes were big and round, childlike almost, clouded a deep blue colour, bushy eyebrows following the curve of his brow bone. His nose appeared to have been broken before as it loomed over a pair of smirking lips. His hair was a dark shade of brown and styled into a presentable quiff. I was unable to stop myself from looking back at his eyes, where to my surprise he was already looking at me. Feeling my cheeks redden I looked down to the table trying to calm myself. 

“Don’t worry about it. That guy is a creep.” I felt Halley kick my shin under the table causing me to wince slightly and look up at her. I heard a deep chuckle come from one of the strangers. “Have a good night ladies.” I looked up once again to meet the eyes of the blue-eyed stranger, he smiled sightly as he turned on his heel and followed his friends towards the door. 

“Holy shit, do you know who that was?” Halley asked her lips pulled into a big smile. I shook my head and picked up my beer, sipping it. “Sienna, we were just saved by the three hottest bartenders who work at the Ivy.” She clapped her hands together. 

“You… They saved you.” 

“Semantics.” She giggled. “I can’t believe it… Those guys… I don’t think they’ve ever done that before… They don’t usually talk to people.” 

“What do you even mean ‘They don’t usually talk to people’. Halley that’s ridiculous. They’re just people.” I tucked some hair behind my ear. “Who are they anyway?” I asked as I grabbed a slice of pizza, pulling the toppings off to eat. She took a deep breath, preparing herself. 

“Okay, so the one who told Xander to back off, his name is George MacKay. He’s studying Mechanical Engineering. I can’t even count the amount of time’s I’ve drooled over him.” She picked up her own beer and took a sip. 

“That’s attractive.” 

“The quiet one at the back with the longer hair. Did you see him?” She ignored me only stopping when she waited for me to nod. “His name is Logan Daniels.” I nodded again. “He’s studying Microbiology. Super smart.” 

“Halley, you need to breathe.” 

“Can’t too excited.” I laughed shaking my head picking at the pizza again. “Okay, so the last one… The last one, with all the tattoos… His name is Dean Charles Chapman, he’s studying English Literature, he wants to become a journalist I think Stacey told me once. Stacey has been trying to get with him since she met him at the Ivy last year” My interest in him peaked as she spoke. “My God, I can’t wait to tell her all of this.” She beamed. 

“Have you ever spoken to him before?” I asked. “Or any of them?” Halley shook her head no. 

“Not really, maybe once or twice at the Ivy. You know the occasional ‘Sorry I just bumped into you.’ Or the ‘Can I get a vodka Redbull.’ But nothing that would explain that.” She started to fan herself. 

“Maybe he’s interested in you?” I shrugged my shoulders still picking at the pizza in front of me. 

“Do you think?” She asked her eyes going wide, cheeks flushing pink. 

“You never know.” I downed the last of my beer and threw a twenty dollar note on the table as Halley threw down another fifteen. “Let’s get to the club. I really don’t want to wait in line tonight.” 

Stale piss. 

From the minute we walked in the door’s it’s all I could smell. No matter how much this place was scrubbed from top to bottom, the scent never changed. No matter how much bleach was poured on the floor and smothered over surfaces, it would still smell like stale piss.

At least to me, Maybe it doesn't to other people. Maybe to others, it's still a place of joy, and happiness but now, to me it was the same mundane, piss scented bar. People come here to find love at the bottom of a whiskey filled glass, hoping for a night of meaningless passionless, lust-driven sex. Maybe sometimes they find it, maybe they don’t. Booths lined the walls where people sat drinking and talking, some girls begging for attention, others danced in their seats laughing at how silly they must look to onlookers like me. A couple of tables littered the area around the bar and barstools lining half the length of the bar.

“Come on Sienna, it’s a girl’s night, at least pretend to have fun.” Stacey pulls at my hand, her fake nails digging into my palm as her long blonde hair swirled around her face, her blue eyes large and round, her lips fake and pouted. “This is the promise land, any of these boys could be yours for the night.” She motioned around us as guys looked girls up and down as if they were some sort of meat on display at a butcher. “Maybe more, if you’re lucky.” She winked at me and giggled as she hit her hip into mine. I hate this place. It's not a promise land, where I can meet new and interesting people, hold intelligent conversations with people. All it is a place for twenty-something-year-olds to come in the chance of getting a quick lay. 

“I’m going to get a drink,” I yelled over the loud obnoxious music to Halley and Stacey. “I need to be wasted to be here.” 

“I’ll come.” Halley smiled grabbing onto my elbow. “Maybe we’ll see our friends again.” I rolled my eyes and pushed through the sweaty people nearing the bar. 

“As long as it ends up with me drinking alcohol that’s fine with me.” I pushed someone softly out of the way, worming through other bodies to get Halley and me to the front. “Excuse me,” I grunted as we made it out of the swarming crowd near the dance floor. We stopped to look over the bar, three bartenders stood behind it, each making a drink. 

“C’mon it’s less crowded over here.” Halley grabbed my arm around, as we headed down to the less populated end. I laughed and looked at which bartender was serving in the middle section of the bar. 

“Sure it doesn’t have anything to do with the bartender.” I looked over my shoulder to see George pouring whisky into a shot glass. 

“Are you having fun?” Halley yelled over the music ignoring me completely, turning her back on the bar. I nodded my head shrugging, indifferent. “Sienna, I wish you were having more fun.” She frowned reaching out grabbing my hand. 

“What can I get for you?” A deep voice rumbled from behind us over the music, I watched as Halley’s eyes went wide. She turned slowly to face George, who had a smile pulling on his lips. “Nice to see you again ladies.” I nudged Halley with my elbow. She snapped out of her daze and smiled politely. 

“Hi, uh, Yeah.” She shook her head. “I mean, thanks for that… tonight at Uncle Tony’s I mean…” I looked down and played with my rings as I waited for Halley to order drinks for both of us. “So you work here huh?” Halley tried. “I mean obviously you work here.” I watched on as Halley awkwardly found her ground, pushing her hair behind her ear as she laughed at herself. 

“Can I get you something.” A deep voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see the guy with the tattoos - Dean - from tonight, leaning against the bar smiling down at me. I looked at the bottles shelved behind him as I walked up to the bar leaning on it, bottom lip slipping between my teeth as I thought. Finally, I gave up, looking from the bottles to him. 

“I'm not too sure... Why don't you surprise me?” I leant forward on the bar, getting closer to him, the light flowed around him making him look angelic. 

“Do you like sweet or sour?” His voice was husky as I maintained eye contact, trying not to lose myself in the blue of his eyes anymore than I already had. I couldn’t help my lips twisting up slightly at the comment.

“I’m feeling sweet tonight.” He chuckled white teeth exposing themselves as he smiled, turning his back to me. Grabbing the bottles of alcohol from the shelves behind me he turned his head slightly. I began to fiddle with my rings, twisting them a nervous habit of mine. 

“What’s your name?” I stopped, my hand's frozen on the bar, turning around to face me he was placing all the ingredient's on the bench in front of me. "Are you not allowed to tell me your name?" He smiled at me again and I was gone, a breathy smile escaped me as he smiled down at me.

“Sienna, And you? What's your name?" He continued to make my drink.

"Dean." I nodded my head. “It’s nice to meet you Sienna.”

"So what are you making there Dean?" I looked up at him again, he was still watching me, watching as I leaned forward lip in between my teeth, eyes curious as he poured the liqueurs out.

"Espresso martini." He started to shake it. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and giggle. He stopped shaking and lent forward onto the bar."Don't you like Espresso Martini’s, Sienna?” The way my name sounded coming from him made my stomach flutter. Feeling dangerous and unlike myself, I lent towards him. 

"It's okay. I mean it’s literally the martini version of the classic ‘white girl’ drink of vodka Redbull. A basic drink, easily done and something I can recreate at home, But I’ll give it a try." I leant forward towards him, our noses almost touching, I could feel his breath against my skin. "Who knows maybe you do it differently to the others… Better perhaps.”

“I definitely do it better.” We weren’t talking about the drink anymore. He replied pulling away to finish the drink, only looking up when it was finished. "One hopefully not boring Espresso Martini." He smirked at me causing me to giggle. I pulled my card from my wallet and went to hand it to him. He shook his head and pushed the drink closer to me. "Don't worry about it. It's on me.” 

"Dean, I insist." I pushed the card out towards him again, he put a hand up to stop me from trying anymore.

"It's fine. Enjoy your night." He collected everything he’d used for the drink, turning to put it back into the respective spots. 

"Dean." He turned around; I was still in my previous spot, watching him as he worked. He walked closer, leaning slightly across the bar. I smiled up playfully and before I even knew what was happening, What I was doing. I’d leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank-you," I whispered into his ear, my cheek still pushed against his. “I’m sure the drink is delicious." I pulled away, picking up the drink, walking away, with one final glance over my shoulder. He was leaning on the bar, a devastatingly handsome smile on his face. 

“Sienna, there you are.” Stacey grabbed my shoulder pulling me to a stop. A bit of my drink spilled onto the ground, splashing over her shoes. “Sorry.” She looked over her shoes before back to me. “Have you seen Halley?” I shook my head. 

“Last I saw her, she was at the bar talking to one of the bartenders, George.” I looked back to the bar to see Halley still where I’d left her. Smiling as he handed her a drink. She smiled and waved before making her way over to us. “Here she is.” 

“Sorry.” She apologised. “George and I got to talking.” There wasn’t a trace of remorse in her tone as she giggled. She looked at me as my eyebrow corked up. “I’ll explain later.” I nodded my head, bringing my drink to my lips. I sipped carefully. The mix of vodka, coffee liqueur and espresso dancing across my tongue, rich, indulgent and creamy. Dean was right, he does do it better. 

“Whose dancing with me?” Stacey changed the subject, her eyes still on the bar… On George and Dean. “Because, ladies there are so many young, attractive males here tonight, who I think to deserve a show.” I followed her eyes, she was watching Dean as he threw a piece of ice at George laughing when it hit his friend in the back. I turned back, looking at Halley.

“What do you say?” Halley smiled. Her eyes went to the bar, to George. I smiled weakly.

“Look’s like we’re dancing.” I grabbed Halley’s hand, dragging her behind Stacey onto the dance floor. “You better put on a good show for him.” I moaned. “Because I could be home right now, listening to Jimmy Buffet on cheap shitty red wine.” She shook her head. 

“You’re always drunk on cheap shitty red wine.” She taunted back. “But I will put on a good show.” She smirked, swaying her hips. “He watching?” Quickly I darted my eyes to the bar… To George. His eyes were on Halley. 

“He’s watching.” 

Sweat. Smoke. Alcohol. Body odour. That’s all that I could smell wherever I went, wherever I turned. Around me bodies moved pushing themselves up against any surface they could, grabbing onto other people as their bodies gyrated against another person. 

“C’mon Sienna. Dance with me.” Halley grabbed my hands. 

“Halley you know I hate to dance, it’s not something I’m good at. It’s -.”  

“Sienna.” I was cut off by a boy who came up stopping beside us, slinging an arm around my waist pulling me into an awkward side hug fingertips digging into my skin as the material of my t-shirt lifted. I vaguely recognised him from my communications class, but we weren't friends so nothing made this encounter less uncomfortable. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” He yelled over the music before he looked at Halley and smiled I waited for him to remove his arm from my waist but he never did, which caused me to raise my eyebrow at Halley. “Sorry, my names Henry. Sienna and I share a communications class.” Henry that’s what his name was… Henry.

“Halley,” She said extending an arm to Henry following it with a deathly glare. Henry smiled, extending his own hand to Halley. Shaking his hand, she didn’t drop her glare. “Nice to meet you.” 

“You ladies having a good night?” Henry slurred, words joining each other in a drunken fashion, his weight shifting onto me. 

“We are, thanks,” I yelled back, hoping he’d catch my tone.

“Me too.” He ran his free hand through his hair. “I’m fucked though. The boys and I have been drinking since four this afternoon.” He chuckled stupidly. 

“Wow, I’m surprised you’re standing.” Halley deadpanned. 

“Do you want to dance Sienna?” Henry smiled down at me.

“I don’t really dance.”

“I can teach you.” His drunken smile widened as his hand dropped down to grab mine, pulling me away from Halley before I could object. I stumbled my way through the crowd trying to loosen Henry’s grip on my hand, hoping I could lose him in the crowd when Henry stopped. I looked around smiling awkwardly trying to figure out how exactly people moved to this kind of music. Studying how they rocked their bodies somewhat in tempo with the music. “You don’t like Iggy?” Henry asked, mouths moving to the song. I shrugged again. 

“I’m not good at dancing, remember.” I shrugged and started to sway side to side holding my hands together hoping Henry wouldn't grab hold of them again before I figured out a way to leave without offending him. There was nothing worse than a white boy who got rejected. Against my highest hopes, he grabbed my hands and started to pull them above my head and make me move more freely or so he thought, it couldn't have felt any stranger for me than it did. He kept this up for a while before he pulled me closer to him so his body was pressed against mine attempting to get our bodies to move as one to the music, thrusting his hips into mine, his lips going to my neck his nose travelling along the length of it before he planted a kiss on my collar bone. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe, Everyone was standing too close to me and I forgot how to breathe.

“You look really good Sienna.” 

“I need some water,” I said quickly pulling away from him and rushing off the dance floor. I reached the water station at the bar, pouring myself a cup and downing it.  

“Easy tiger.” I looked up to meet the worried eyes of George “Are you okay?” I nodded my head and poured another drink. “You’re Halley’s friend right?” He held his hand out. “I’m George.” I extended my hand and opened my mouth ready to reply. 

“Sienna there you are.” My eyes widened as I heard Henry yell from behind me. “Why’d you run back there?” I turned and tried to answer but he just got closer. “I thought we were having a good time.” 

“I just really needed water.” I motioned behind me. “Worked up a thirst.” 

“But things were just getting started.” Henry smiled, a smiled I’m sure he thought would have me weak at the knees as he reached around and grabbed onto my ass and give it a squeeze.  

“Hey.” I yelped, trying to back away. 

“Did you seriously just grab her,” George growled from behind me. 

“She liked it, don’t worry big guy.” My mouth dropped, hands going up to his chest. 

“What the fu—.” 

“Sir.” We both looked over to see a tall, built security guard standing near us. “I’m going to need you to come with me.” Henry pushed himself away from me, knocking me back into the wood of the bar. “You need to leave the premises.” 

“I’m not even drunk.” He argued. “You can’t kick me out for being sober.” 

“You need to come with me sir, you’re making a scene.” 

“S, Are you okay?” Halley whispered in my ear as she rushed up to stand beside me. 

“Why am I being kicked out.” Henry continued to argue chest puffing out. 

“One of our staff advised us that you are too intoxicated to be on-premises.” The security guard got closer. 

“Who told you that.” 

“Don’t make me throw you out.” Henry took one look between me and the guard.

“She’s not even worth it.” He looked at me once again scoffing and pushing past us. The guard nodded at us before following him out. 

“Sienna” I heard from behind me. I turned to see George still standing behind us, leaning down on the bar. “Are you sure you’re okay? You rushed out of there pretty quickly.” I let my head fall back against the brick wall next to the water fountain.

“Yeah, he was just giving me a weird vibe.”

“So he’s not your boyfriend.” Halley and I shook my head. “So you’re single.” I nodded. “Thank god. We had reports of him spiking other girls drink. When Dea - One of the guys saw him dancing with you, he got Big Mike involved.” 

“Thanks, George.” 

“Come on Sienna, Let’s get you home.” I let Halley pull me to the door, Stopping to say goodbye to Stacey and the other girls as we made our way to the door. I looked back to the bar where  I saw Dean on the way out a girl sitting in front of him at the bar, running a hand up and down his arm. He wasn’t watching her though, His eyes were on me. With one final look at Dean, Halley pulled me out the door and back to reality.

[marmolady]

Broken Chains: Revival

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f), Quinn x Michelle

Summary: Part 3: Post-ending (Endless ending). With Estela by her side, Taylor must face her destiny and set Vaanu free. But at what cost?

Word Count: 7033

Warnings: Probably rated M to be safe, for language.

Previous chapter/Next chapter

AO3

Estela descended from the elevator first, her every sense alert, and spear at the ready. Somewhere within the glowing red caverns lurked the oryctoraptor, and there was little doubt that it would respond strongly to a rare intrusion into its domain.

Following a few steps behind, Taylor was quietly grateful for Estela’s courageous and capable presence by her side. It was now down to the wire, and there was no room for emotion to dull their response to the danger they faced. She moved carefully, aware of every foot placement, knowing that a clatter of rocks could be enough to get them in hot water, fast.

Letting out a breath that she’d been holding subconsciously, Estela put a hand on Taylor’s arm. “The crystal was down that way, right?” she whispered. “It looks like we’re clear for now.”

The passageway that had been opened up by the placement of the clawprint orb remained. As she passed through, at Estela’s heels, Taylor found herself overwhelmed by the drumming of her own heart. There could be no more denial, no more delaying. She focused her mind, reaching across the island.

Varyyn.

The sleeping elyyshar’s mind connected with her own, and Taylor spoke to him.

I am returning my essence to Vaanu. Bring help to the caverns beneath Atropo; we might need it. She shared with him a vision of their surroundings, calling him. I might not be human enough to go on living. This could be the last thing I ask of anyone; get Estela home safe. Please, keep her safe.

Closing her mind to any response, Taylor trained her senses back to her surroundings, listening for the slightest hint of movement in the caves. From behind came a faint sound of disturbed rocks, and she froze, feeling Estela become still beside her, coiled up to strike.

Estela smoothly slipped behind Taylor, facing back in the direction from which they’d come. She raised her spear. With a glance, she encouraged her companion to keep moving forward. If the demon reptile wanted to harm Taylor, it would have to go through her first.

Taylor crept onwards on light feet, choosing a path that took her close to geysers in which they might hide themselves should the raptor emerge. Suddenly, she felt herself nudged towards one. Taking the hint, she shrouded herself in the spray, with Estela pressed up against her, hiding. She felt a shift behind her as Estela pulled an arm back, ready to take out the threat.

The oryctoraptor stalked into view, its head cocked, listening for the source of the movement that had drawn it in.

Taylor held her breath.

Long toe claws clicking against the hard earth with each step, the raptor came closer, slowly passing their hiding place. Then, its rump now facing them, its keen eyes trained on the movements of a small lizard on the other side of the cave, and Estela struck. The raptor shrieked as the spear connected with its thigh, driven deep into the flesh by the force of the throw. It whirled around, squalling, its bright eyes flashing with rage. With its attackers still out of view and utterly silent, it turned and fled, the spear still buried in its leg.

With a gasp, Taylor stepped out of the flume. She could only hope that the injury would be enough to keep the raptor at bay- especially as they’d now lost their most effective weapon. Joining her, Estela took out her obsidian dagger.

“If it comes back, I’ll be ready.”

Taylor nodded shakily. Focused as she was on the sacrifice she was about to make, she’d not quite been prepared for the threat that stood between her and the crystal pillar. The path forward was now clear, but it was obvious that they couldn’t linger. Her time was up.

 _____________________________

In Elyys’tel, a sleeping Diego was disturbed by Varyyn stirring around him. He blearily opened his eyes to see his husband hastily gathering supplies and squirrelling them into a satchel.

“What… what’s going on? Are you all right?”

Varyyn turned, and the fearful look in his eye unsettled Diego. “I’m sorry, Diego. There may be trouble. I didn’t wish to wake you; you’ve had so little sleep.”

“Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

“I think Taylor seeks to reunite her spirit --her being-- with Vaanu. To restore the earth and all those lost in the fires beyond La Huerta.”

Diego gave a shuddered gasp, suddenly wide awake as though someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over him. His Taylor, his best friend… she was sacrificing herself. “No! Varyyn, you have to stop her! She’ll be gone.… W-where’s Estela? She wouldn’t let Taylor do this-”

“They’re together. Diego, you must trust me.” Varyyn strode across the room in a smooth stride, his eyes filled with concern.

“Of course, I…” Diego’s voice shook. He should have known. He could tell that something was going on beneath the surface with Taylor. Why didn’t he realise? “I… I trust you.”

“I will take several scouts to the chasm. We must be prepared… the Deep Guardian will not welcome intrusion. And you… must stay here, my love.”

“Stay? No! Varyyn, I can’t!”

“Diego…” Varyyn put his hand on his love’s shoulder and squeezed.

“I trust you, but…”

“We will need to move swiftly. Taylor is fearing for her life; I may need to carry her to safety. My love, you could not be expected to keep the pace.”

Of course, he was right, but it hurt Diego’s heart to accept it. There was no doubt in his mind that Taylor run to his side if ever he were in danger. He put his arms around Varyyn. “What can I do?”

Varyyn looked down into Diego’s pleading eyes, his expression one of determination. “I will seek the mind of our chief healer if we need it, but I want you to prepare Michelle. If they’re hurt, she’ll be of help."

“Okay… okay…” Diego’s heart was hammering. That he’d been sound asleep just moments ago seemed impossible; he’d never been more alert in his life. “I’ll… I’ll find Michelle.” He staggered toward the arched door of their sleeping quarters. “Varyyn…”

“Diego, I will care for her life as if it were yours. I will care for both of them.”

A lump in his throat, Diego nodded. Deep fear settled in his belly. If Taylor was giving herself back to Vaanu, there could be nothing left of her to save.

  _________________________

The glowing crystal called to Taylor, drawing her in. The cavern seemed to ring with silence, even as she kept putting one foot in front of the other. All she could hear was the thundering of her own heart. She walked close to Estela, so that their thighs brushed with each opposing stride; a small comfort to carry her those last agonising steps.

“Taylor,” Estela breathed, barely audible. “I love you. I… I’ll stay with you, ‘til the end.”

“I love you too. I love you… I love you…” Taylor spoke in whisper, her face fast becoming wet with tears against her wife’s neck.

Estela held her tight, easing her towards the crystal pillar and crouching down in the ethereal light that radiated from it. How could something so beautiful cause so much pain? Even as she felt fury bubble up within her, she forced it down. It was unfair… horrifically so, but anger wouldn’t give Taylor what she needed.

Tears streaming down her face, Taylor crouched before the pillar, feeling an overwhelming pull towards it.  She gave a little sob. Vaanu. I’m giving you what’s yours. Let me go. Let me go. Please.

“No more crying now…” Estela roughly brushed aside her own tears and tenderly lifted Taylor’s face towards her own. “There’s all the time to be sad. But right now, you have me, and I have you. And you’re about to save everyone.”

Except for us, Taylor thought. Except for you. Under the sweet caress of her love’s fingers, she became calm.

“Estela, I’m so-“ she croaked, only to be cut off.

“No. Don’t do that.” Estela’s voice was firm, but unmistakeably loving. She ran her thumb across Taylor’s cheek, reassuring her that there was nothing to apologise for, that there was no need for regret in these last moments.

Taylor gazed into her eyes, just inches from her face, and felt them staring into her soul, burning with affection. She let the feeling, of total, blissful connection, fill her up, giving her all the courage she’d ever need. If she had to go, this was how it had to be. “I’m gonna touch it now…” Her voice came out far steadier than she’d expected. “Will you hold me… kiss me?” Kiss me goodbye…

Estela took Taylor’s face in her hands and drew it to her lips, kissing her slow and lingering, pouring the love that was breaking her heart into that last goodbye. An arm around her torso pulled her closer, while Taylor’s other hand reached out, offering herself. Finally, she could no longer hold back the tears, and she let them fall.

Even while her heart soared as she responded fervently, desperately, to the most breathtaking of kisses, Taylor kept reaching. Vaanu. Please, don’t take me away. She laid her hand upon the brilliant crystal pillar, and a familiar glow began to overwhelm her. Let me stay with her.

The light was blinding, and in its wake came pain, burning through every inch of Taylor’s body, a pain unlike anything she’d felt before. She doubled over and tried to scream, but no sound came out. Even though she knew Estela was there, she couldn’t see nor even feel her. She tried to reach out, to call for her, but she was totally lost. She felt herself slipping away, the light giving way to darkness as her body writhed in agony. Her every cell screaming, it became all too much. Taylor slumped forward and became still, falling into nothingness.

  __________________________

The night-- or rather, the early morning, had become still, blaring music, shouts and laughter having finally ceased. The revellers-- in various states of intoxication-- had returned to their homes, save for a few who’d simply crashed on the beach.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzztttt!

A phone vibrated noisily beside Craig and Zahra’s bed. Ignoring the groaning beside him, Craig reached out and tried to make sense of the writing on the screen. Easier said than done for someone who that night had come close to replacing every drop of water in his body with alcohol.

“Yo, Z--“

“Volume. Down. Or I will stab you,” came a muffled voice from beneath the covers.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzztttt!

“I think I’ve got missed calls…”

“From where? The afterlife?”

Craig’s eyes grew wide. “D’you really think…?”

“No, asshat! Just shut it off and let me sleep.’

Bzzzzzzzzzzzztttt!

“That actually sounds like a really good idea…” Craig’s words were slurred. “I feel like this buzzing is gonna make my brain explode. You’re so smart.” Clumsily mashing the buttons, he managed to turn off the offending phone before slumping over the bedside table. “Ugh… night, Player One…”

Zahra responded with just a little grunt but edged into his side of the bed so that her back was against his side and her head resting on his outstretched arm. Within seconds, she’d succumbed to a deep slumber, thinking nothing of the phone going off for no reason at all. At the very edge of humanity’s survival, a malfunctioning mobile had little meaning.

  A lone figure amid the now-deserted party decorations and discarded bottles that were strewn far and wide between Elyys’tel and the village, Diego was growing increasingly frantic. For a good half hour he’d been hammering on Michelle’s door to no response. Knowing how much everyone had been drinking, it would have been reasonable to assume that she was home but pretty much dead to the world. Doubting himself, Diego had wandered by Quinn’s place and knocked on the door there too, having seen the two of them side by side for most of the night, but still, nothing.

Running his hands through his hair, he tried to calm himself. Michelle was somewhere in the village; he’d just have to try every hut. Jeez, Taylor-- of all the nights to do this, it had to be the one where everyone was off their face drunk. He turned to head up the hill, to start searching his friends’ places one by one --surely someone would know where to find Michelle-- and was stopped in his tracks as his eye fell upon the expanse of sea before him. The orange glow on the horizon, the endlessly burning fires… it had all gone out. Taylor had done it. And he’d lost her.

  ___________________________

The crystal pillar was gone, and Taylor lay crumpled on the rocky ground. Her heart pounding in her ears, Estela searched desperately for a pulse, but found nothing. Through her tears, she began chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth. God, Taylor, why did you have to do this?

“Come on, come on… don’t you dare leave me…”

She had no idea how long it was --it felt like an eternity-- but finally she caught a faint pulse. Trembling, Estela leant over her wife’s chest. Taylor was breathing… just. She gave her a little shake, but the body in her arms was limp and totally unresponsive.

“Taylor? Taylor! Can you hear me? Taylor!” It was like talking to a brick wall; cold and silent, and empty. “I’m gonna get you outta here… I’m gonna get you home. Just stay with me, okay? I can’t lose you… I can’t…”

Estela hauled Taylor over her shoulders, holding onto her with one hand, while the other gripped the dagger. The oryctoraptor was somewhere in the caverns, and no doubt in a foul mood after being injured. With such a dangerous threat present on Estela’s mind, placed each step with care, creeping forward in the direction that she knew would lead out towards Elyys’tel, but moving quietly was near impossible while carrying such a heavy dead weight.

After a little way, she stopped to check on Taylor. She could feel her breathing, shallow, laboured, but was nothing else… not a twitch or a flicker of the eyelids to suggest that she was still there. That face had been so full of life, but now… nothing. Panic began to grip at Estela’s core, the relief of having revived Taylor dwindling away rapidly. By all technicalities, Taylor was still clinging to life, but was there even any of her left in that hollow shell? There was no Taylor here, not the effervescent, courageous spirit who brimmed with life and love. Estela tried desperately to wake her; pouring water over her face, shaking her, slapping her, crying out for her, losing all concern about keeping quiet as a frantic need to get some kind of response --anything-- consumed her. The devastating reality hit her like a train, and she fell sobbing against Taylor’s chest.

The strangled cry of an animal in pain startled Estela to her senses. Her blood ran cold. Emotion had made a reckless fool out of her. There was no space here to feel; however strong the pull to dissolve into anguish, she had to stay sharp. She simply could not face down the beast with a limp body in her arms; the raptor had to be dealt with. Keeping one eye on the dark corners of the cavern, she hauled Taylor up onto a ledge, just above head height. There was no doubt that the raptor could scale the rockface with ease, but she could only hope that it would keep Taylor out of its line of sight.

“Hang on for me, please, just… I’ll be back… I promise I’m not leaving you…” Estela’s voice was hushed as she nuzzled close to Taylor’s face. Her protective instinct flared up, the only thing powerful enough to drag her from her love’s side. “Hold on… hold on…”

She stalked further along the ledge, back in the direction they’d come from, her dagger tight in her grip. Hissing with rage, the raptor rounded the corner. Even with a noticeable limp and a spear hanging from its thigh, it was swift and agile. Once again, Estela held her breath. From her vantage point above the reptile’s head, there was a chance she could maintain the element of surprise. In obvious pain, the raptor walked with its head down, oblivious to the whereabouts of its attacker. Finally, it moved beneath the ledge, and Estela vaulted down to its side, yanking the spear from its hide before it knew what hit it. Blood gushed and the raptor screeched. It spun on its haunches, jaws snapping. Estela masterfully leapt out of the way, but the spear was knocked down into a deep crevice by the beast’s tail as it swung through the air. It was a blow, but she still had her dagger on hand. She danced around the raptor; even with it grievously injured, she could only just stay ahead of its jaws and talons as she searched for an opening. If she could just keep it up for long enough, the raptor would surely succumb to the gaping wound that continued to pour blood from its side. The only trouble was, it wasn’t the only one that was exhausted. Even as the raptor slowed, Estela did too, and her focus waned as unbidden thoughts of Taylor slipping away, alone and abandoned, crept into her mind. She’d been away too long-- she had to finish this, and fast.

Taking a chance, she threw herself back up onto the ledge, scrambling to get a foothold while swinging at the raptor. Her aim was true, and her blade sliced open the beast’s shoulder from above, narrowly missing swiping talons that reached out, clawing the air. Enraged, the raptor jumped, catching Estela’s leg in its maw and sinking razor sharp teeth down into her flesh, ripping, tearing. She gave a single yell of shock and pain, and held onto the jagged rock for dear life as the raptor tried to drag her down. Estela could feel a wet warmth spreading down to her foot but didn’t let it distract her-- she had to keep fighting until the monster could cause Taylor no harm. The cavern appeared to swim around her, colours blurring together. No. You won’t fucking hurt her. With a guttural shout and every ounce of strength she had, Estela plunged her free hand down, driving her dagger deep into the raptor’s skull. It gave an ear shattering shriek, releasing the searing pressure on her calf, and fell away. Estela panted heavily as she struggled to crawl forward on bloodied and grazed hands, but she managed to drag herself back to Taylor, leaving a trail of blood dark against the earth. Blood loss and fatigue left her mind sluggish; she couldn’t get a sense of who or what the figures coming towards her were, whether it was the raptor returning or some new threat. Was it even real, or just her exhausted mind playing tricks on her? All she knew was to drape herself protectively over Taylor’s frail, unconscious form, shielding her with her last ebb of strength before succumbing to the darkness herself. “Tayl-…”

 __________________________

Nestled in against the soft skin of Quinn’s shoulder, Michelle was sleeping soundly when a resounding bang on the door jolted her to her senses. She sat up, realising that she wasn’t home; she was at Quinn’s place. She was sure she’d heard some idiot yelling her name earlier, but being rather hammered and with a sporting a splitting post-party headache, she’d put a pillow over her head and blocked it out. Whoever it was out there was now too loud to ignore-- and she prepared herself to give them a piece of her mind. Not wanting to wake Quinn unnecessarily, she crept to the window to see who it was that was bothering them at such an ungodly hour. Probably, she imagined, one of her friends, wasted after the party. To her surprise, the figure that peered up at her was Vaanti; the head healer, Ravyya.

“Canis and I have been searching for you. I’m afraid it is urgent, Pavo. I have received word from Varyyn that friends of yours are in critical condition. You must hurry.”

The bottom seemed to fall out of Michelle’s stomach. “What? Who-- who’s hurt?”

“The Catalysts Draco and Andromeda. We must be ready to meet them as Varyyn’s scouts return from the caverns of Atropo. They can cover the distance swiftly, but time is of the essence.”

“I’ll just be a moment- thank you.”

Suddenly wide awake, and gripped by a cold fear, Michelle hurriedly gathered her clothes and dressed herself. What the hell is going on? Tentatively, she nudged Quinn’s shoulder. “Quinn… I’m sorry, you’ve got to wake up.”

“… Michelle…” Even with her eyes bleary and filled with sleep, Quinn could see that something was wrong. “Wha-- what’s happened?”

“I honestly don’t know. Taylor and Estela are hurt, or sick…. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know it’s bad. I’m going to the med centre.”

“I’m coming with you.”

They hurried out the door met, with Diego, who’d caught up with Ravyya.

“Diego! Please tell me you know what’s going on here….” Michelle felt sick. Diego looked utterly bereft, grief-stricken. Whatever this was, it was serious.

Quinn put her arms around Diego, and he cried into her shoulder. “Diego… what is it? What’s happened?”

Ravyya spoke. “See for yourself.” She pointed a long, muscular arm out towards the sea. “Earth is restored. Time has been healed by the gift of Andromeda’s essence back to the source-- Vaanu.”

Michelle looked completely bewildered, but Quinn gasped, tears raining down in an instant, knowing exactly what this meant. “Taylor… sacrificed herself?”

Diego nodded shakily. “I think she’s gone…”

“What has come to pass is not important!” said Ravyya impatiently, already beginning to stride towards Elyys’tel. “It does not matter why we have patients, only that we heal them. If you can talk and move hurriedly, you may do so, but there is no time to linger.”

They walked quickly, with all bar Ravyya trying to wrap their heads around an impossible situation. It had been mere hours since they’d seen Taylor and Estela-- laughing, dancing, just as though it had been any other of the Catalysts’ wild parties. When Michelle looked out onto the horizon, she could see for herself that the early morning sky had changed. Could it be true? Could the world be… back? And how?

“What do you mean, Taylor’s gone?” she asked, her voice quivering. “How could she return to Vaanu? She’s… she’s human now!”

“Andromeda has never truly been human,” Ravyya said. “We expected that, having given herself to Vaanu, she would disappear, leaving with the rest of the entity to the world from which they came. But her body remains.”

Diego looked up, eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Do you mean she’s… dead? That was never supposed to happen--”

“Ack! There is no ‘supposed to’. You must have learned by now that the mysteries of Vaanu, of the universe itself, can never be truly understood. We have made guesses, predictions… that is all. And no, Canis, she is not dead. Varyyn gave message of two Catalysts found. Alive, but unconscious and in grave peril. Why would I gather healers to tend to a corpse, stupid child?”

Falling quiet, Diego dared feel a glimmer of hope. Taylor was still with them.

With the arm that wasn’t around Diego’s shoulders, Quinn reached out and took Michelle’s hand. She looked positively shell-shocked. “’Chelle… whatever this is, we’ll take care of them. Miracles have worked for us before…”

Michelle sniffed and gratefully squeezed Quinn’s hand. There was no miracle-cure Heart now. All they had was themselves; an ambitious pre-med in over her head, and the Vaanti’s traditional healers. But she’d be damned if she was to give up. As she trudged purposefully onwards, she couldn’t help herself from glancing out to sea again and again. That everything had returned after all this time… it wouldn’t sink in. It couldn’t feel real next to the friends she’d fought, cried, laughed and lived with for the past year. Compared to the overwhelming need to get to Taylor and Estela, to keep them safe, the saving of the world was almost inconsequential.

 After what felt like an age, they arrived at Elyys’tel’s medical centre. For the past months, the small facility had been Michelle’s baby. Her dreams for the future had been dashed, but her ambition was too much for her to be held back. She’d led a team to MASADA, sourcing medical equipment and pharmaceuticals from Rourke’s extensive laboratories. His fascination for medicine served her well, for the library also turned out to be a treasure trove. With Varyyn’s blessing, she’d started a small clinic, where she assisted the traditional Vaanti healers, all the while studying late into the night. Even so early in her education, her medical knowledge outstripped that of anyone else on La Huerta, and she’d grown in confidence treating the minor illnesses and injuries that cropped up in the small population. This, though, would be her first major challenge.

Between Michelle, Quinn and Ravyya, they brought out a pair of beds and gathered supplies. Not knowing what they’d be faced with, they prepared for the worst, and the room was soon set up with monitoring machines, ventilators and drips. Diego could only look on, at a loss as to how to help. As she finished making one of the beds, Quinn noticed him looking lost and reached out to him.

“Do you need a hug?”

“So much.” Diego let Quinn wrap her arms around him. Of course he’d needed a hug. He just wished it was coming from Taylor.

Ravyya approached them. “They are here. It is best you wait outside. We will let you know if they are ready for visitors.”

Hand in hand, Quinn and Diego walked out and faced the morning. It looked like any other day on La Huerta, but everything had changed.

Varyyn walked past them, Taylor in his arms, and Diego felt his stomach do a somersault. She looked like death itself….

Michelle was immediately at Varyyn’s side, helping him settle Taylor onto one of the beds. She began examining her and was alarmed by her pallor and feeble vitals. She hastily hooked her up to the monitors. “She was unconscious when you found her?”

“They both were. Her heart stopped on the journey; it was a fight to bring her back.”

Just then, Seraxa entered the room, her front stained with blood, and laid Estela down onto the other bed.

“Oh my god! What happened?” Michelle put her hands to her mouth as she saw the jagged tear down Estela’s calf. It was partially closed, but oozed blood.

“The Deep Guardian,” said Seraxa solemnly. “the most wily of Vaanu’s servants. She would not have welcomed their trespass. We healed as well as could be done with our leaves, but this is too deep a wound for the treatment to be effective.”

As Ravyya hooked Estela up to a drip, replenishing the fluids she’d lost, Michelle collected herself. She was way out of her depth-- she was just a pre-med-- but friends needed her to hold it together.

“This is gonna need stitches,” she said shakily. “If you hadn’t worked quickly, she would have bled out… this is… huge.” Michelle had not dealt with such an extensive wound before. She gave Estela’s fingers a little squeeze before taking her scissors and beginning to cut away the pants from the bloodied leg. “I-it’s okay…” she stammered, before taking a deep breath and collecting herself. “I’ve got you.”

 ____________________________

Sean strolled out his front door, blinking in the sunlight. A little hungover, he could not say he envied the headaches that some of his friends would be sporting when they woke up. Desperate for fresh air, he headed down to the beach, picking up discarded bottles and cans as he went. Just another morning after. Or at least… it seemed that way. Until he saw a small dot on the horizon. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have said it was a boat in the distance, but that simply wasn’t possible. He wandered idly, but couldn’t stop looking back to the sea, to the dot that wasn’t a boat. Humouring himself, he reached into his pocket for his phone, which for the last year had functioned only as a camera. As he glanced down at it, Sean wondered how much he had been drinking. He had reception. More than that, he had ten missed calls and three text messages… from his mother.

Tears sprang to his eyes. These must have been from when she’d been caught up in the catastrophic eruption… final goodbyes. He slumped down onto his knees in the sand and tried to find the courage to press ‘play’, to hear his mother’s final words. And then the screen lit up- an incoming call. His heart in his throat, Sean answered, and the voice that spoke to him made him break down in sobs.

“Momma?”

 _________________________

Struggling to control the nervous tremor in her hands, Michelle pulled the edges of Estela’s lacerated calf together and sutured them closed. She’d had Ravyya take an x-ray-- one of the many godsend pieces of equipment that Rourke had left behind-- and had been relieved to find that no bones had been broken by the raptor’s strong jaws. The lower part of the leg had, however, been ravaged. Muscle was left torn and ragged, a tendon ruptured, and the damage trailed down the ankle. The leaves had worked to save Estela from blood loss so far, but Michelle had needed to disturb the partially healed wound in order to effectively sew it back together. The whole thing had been an absolute mess and the pressure near overwhelming.

Sensing her colleague’s insecurity, Ravyya gave Michelle an encouraging smile- a rare thing for the stern Vaanti. “She has recovered well from bleeding. It looks as though the danger has passed.”

“If this doesn’t heal properly, she could lose the leg…:

“Nonsense! What you cannot do, our herbs will. This leg will heal.”

Michelle almost allowed herself to feel heartened when a high-pitched alarm pierced the air. Taylor was arresting… again. Frantic, Michelle put her bloodied hands to Taylor’s chest and began compressions. It was everything she’d dreaded. The cycle felt endless; compressions… mouth-to-mouth…compressions, over and over again. Tiring, she let Ravyya take over. Thirty minutes… forty…

“Pavo, I think we should stop now.”

“Let me keep going.” Michelle didn’t know how she managed to get the words out. But she had to try, just a few minutes longer. Even as her whole body shook with fear, she kept fighting. “Come back to me Taylor… come on!” she growled. Light-headed, falling deeper into a terrified daze, a voice in her head told her that it was over. She knew it, but she didn’t know how she could accept it. Taylor’s life was in her hands.

“Pavo!”

Michelle ignored the admonishment and put her mouth to Taylor’s, giving rescue breaths for what she knew had to be the last time. And the monitor’s intermittent beeping resumed, reading a pulse. Feeling as though she was going to faint, she put her hands on Taylor, checking her vitals once more. “We’ve got her back.”

Ravyya gave the smallest of smiles. “It seems your judgement was correct. But you should not let ties of the heart interfere with your decisions. Come. Finish tidying this up. I will observe Andromeda myself.”

  Mid-morning, and with both her patients finally stable, Michelle retreated into the waiting room, completely drained. She collapsed into a chair and buried her face in her arms. The path she’d chosen… sometime or another, she’d lose someone in her care for the first time; it was unavoidable. Emotion couldn’t get the better of her. But Taylor, Estela… they were her sisters. She’d been a second away from accepting that Taylor was gone and giving up. That kind of decision… it was too fucking much.

“Hey…” Quinn called to her gently, her voice sweet and soothing to Michelle’s ear. She knelt in front of the chair and let her friend cry into her shoulder. “You were amazing in there, Michelle.”

Michelle could only weep. “What the hell were they thinking?”

“They said… they said that Estela’s through the worst now, that she’s gonna be okay. You did that. That was so much put on your shoulders, but you did it.”

“I’m no hero, Quinn,” Michelle hiccoughed. “Fuck, I’m barely keeping it together.”

Quinn stroked Michelle’s dirty blonde hair, which was damp with sweat, and reached up to kiss her cheek. “Honey, you don’t have to. You’re allowed to be a human being.” She exhaled, her breath trembling. “You… you’ve always been a hero. To me.”

Tears came anew, and Michelle buried her face in her friend’s hair. She held Quinn tight, as if she was the only thing that could possibly keep her afloat.

Sometime later, the sobs became whimpers, which faded into shared silence.

“Is it really true? They’re saying we’ve had contact. They’re saying that… it’s like the world was never lost. That’s why Taylor did this… god, she did this for us, Quinn.”

The slight redhead nodded. “I can’t believe it. But… but it looks like… they’re all alive. Everyone we left back home. We’re even getting phone reception, internet, you name it, like there was no storm to begin with. Everyone’s been calling family. It’s real.”

“I just… it doesn’t seem possible.” Michelle was trembling. Exhausted from the fight to save the lives of two of her closest friends, the thought of something so miraculous was jarring to her. She’d grieved for so long, come to accept her new lot in life, built something on La Huerta that she could be proud of… and now once again the world turned on its head.

“I can lend you my phone? Is there someone you want to call?”

Her insides turning to ice, Michelle shook her head. The only true friends she ever had were there on the island. They still needed her. “We need to get a doctor out here, someone who can be discreet. I’ve got them this far, but I… I can’t shoulder this one alone. There’s gotta be a way to get someone to help; between us we can come up with whatever money we need.”

“Should we evacuate them out of here?”

“And take them where? Who knows what they’ll find if they get a closer look at Taylor? She’s not a normal human, if she’s human at all. She’s got no documents to say she belongs anywhere, and I don’t know how the hell we’re supposed to answer those kinds of questions. Even if there wasn’t any of that… Quinn, she’s so fragile. At least here she’s safe. If I make the wrong call and she….” Michelle’s voice broke.

“Hey,” Quinn rubbed her back. “We’ll take care of them right here. Where we can all stay close. I think… I think you’re right. I feel like we all need to be around Taylor. It’s almost like… she has a better chance if we’re all here.”

It should have sounded crazy, but nothing else made sense. Taylor’s being revolved around her friends; she would not survive if she were taken away.

“I’ll talk to Grace and Aleister. They’ll have useful contacts. Friends in high places.”

“Thanks, babe.” Michelle tentatively leaned forward to kiss Quinn’s brow. From somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered where it all left the two of them. Home was another lifetime ago almost, and in that lifetime, Michelle worked to a plan… a plan that never would have included falling in love with a woman. With the world back as it was, old insecurities swooped in. No. Don’t give in to that bullshit now. “I should get back in there, sit with them.” She took Quinn’s hand in her own. “Would you… would you come with me? I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this alone.”

So much of Quinn’s young life had been spent in hospitals. She’d made friends, kids like her with terminal illnesses. And then, almost without fail, they would be gone, leaving behind nothing but empty beds and a sobering understanding of mortality. Those days, she’d been so sure, were behind her. Quinn squeezed Michelle’s hand and looked into her eyes, willing her to feel every ounce of adoration that she felt for her. Making calls could wait. “I’ve got you, ‘Chelle.”

Quinn placed two chairs between the hospital beds. She sat down, and laced her fingers through Taylor’s, tenderly stroking with her thumb. As Michelle hesitated in the doorway, clearly affected by the trauma of the fight she’d faced when she’d last stood in that room, Quinn offered her other hand, inviting her into a secure embrace. Collecting herself, Michelle sat in the second chair, her fingers entwining with Quinn’s on one hand, while the other gently took hold of Estela’s.

“Deep breath…” Quinn whispered encouragingly.

Michelle squeezed her fingers and exhaled shakily. Deep breath…

[cosmamas]

self-indulgent pre ‘before everything goes to shit’ headcanons for @kyecupio ! fyi for anyone else reading this: serenity / usagi / cosmos are all the same person in this verse but she refers to herself as ‘usagi’ while she’s living on destiny islands!.

under a cut because this got way longer than i meant it to be!!!!

pre-birth / baby / toddler stuff

her feelings on being pregnant range from, ‘i love this mamo-chan! i love you! i love this baby!’ to ‘i can’t see my feet. why does my back hurt so much!! get this baby out of me FUCK!!!!!!!’

a real conversation that was had between her and mamoru: usagi: *casually refers to the baby as a she* mamoru: wait how do you know it’s a girl? usagi: oh well every serenity had a girl befor- mamoru: um what do you mean by ‘every serenity’? usagi: lol i didn’t i tell you my mother was named that? my grandma and great grandma were too. i also look like my great great grandma and my great great grea- mamoru: *chuckling nervously* what the fuck!!!!!

she 'talks’ to the baby a lot by telling him stories, singing to him, or even occasionally admitting that she’s terrified of not being a good parent oof! she likes to think that him moving / kicking right after she says something is him reacting to what was said. but he’s really just a little shit that kicks / moves a lot especially when she’s trying to sleep!!

she definitely gets cravings for delicacies that only existed on the moon kingdom and mamoru tries his best to recreate it but usagi’s terrible and vague about the ingredients ( b/c chefs and makoto cooked everything ) so it never comes out right but she appreciates his attempts none the less.

idk when his birthday is ( i’ll let kyecupio handle that ) but he definitely comes late / past his due date which drives her insane because she just can’t sit still despite everyone telling her to and it gives mamoru daily heart attacks. 

she probably goes into full-on labor at night / during a new moon because hahaahah GET IT NEW. MOON. cause it’s a new moon kingdom heir........ i’m deleting. anyway, a lot of symbolism regarding the new moon is specifically tied to starting over, second chances, new beginnings, etc. which is literally what this baby represents for his parents. this is also a moment where the ‘usagi’ facade drops and ‘serenity’ comes out as she gathers strength from the moon to help her get through the pains of labor ( it wouldn’t be surprising if she kind of just...zones out and enters an almost trance-like state and doesn’t snap out of it until he’s actually out ).

do to the close ties the moon kingdom has with kingdom hearts itself as well as the greek references in kh ( χ-blade ) and in sailor moon, usagi thought of the name archísei but the meaning / significance in its meaning was something both she and mamoru desired in a name for their child.

archísei is the cutest baby!!! he has the chubbiest cheeks, the biggest ears, and is very fussy when he’s not being cuddled by mommy or daddy. and yes, he’s born with the traditional mark of moon royalty: the crescent moon on one’s forehead. it’s hidden away but when they’re alone usagi chooses to reveal it by kissing him on his forehead uwu.

because usagi can’t help her home sickness, his nursery definitely has a slight celestial / moon kingdomish feel to it with white, gold, and other neutral colors + a wall with some constellations or stars on it ( and yes, i looked at baby nurseries for this. let me live!!!!!! ).

this is totally them when he starts screaming at like three in the morning. mamoru can get him to fall back asleep pretty quickly if he’s lucky. with usagi, there’s more work because archísei is spoiled and likes to be sang to before eventually falling asleep, usually to one of these ( both of these, especially tuxedo mirage, are like....aggressively about mamoru but we’re going to ignore that because i like the ‘lullabyness’ of how they sound ).

usagi is tall, around 5′9 / 5′10 ( without heels ), so when he’s not attached to her hip / being carried then archísei is always latched to her legs once he starts learning how to walk.

his terrible twos phase is the absolute WORST. usagi regrets the day he learned how to say no.

childhood stuff

mamoru and usagi are definitely the ‘we’ll fuck you up if you even look at our son the wrong way’ type of parents. even if he were to do something he wasn’t supposed to at school or even goes to far while ‘playfully’ sparring with another kid, they would probably argue in his defense but then lecture him once they’re at home.

( an unpopular opinion but i unapologetically love how snarky / somewhat of a jerk mamoru is in the first season of the 90s anime which is trait that...pretty much disappears after that rip :’(((( - and it’s easily my favorite version of the character. his banter with usagi kills me. ) so going with mamoru’s personality being a mix of manga + season one of classic sm then archísei’s snark definitely comes from him + watching his parents playfully go back and forth with other as usagi can be pretty sassy too ( mamoru taught archísei how to rile her up by calling her bun-head which still makes her throw a fit despite being 30+ years old ).

archísei is a momma’s boy but he definitely admires / looks up to his dad because mamoru is definitely important™ on DI, like a doctor or something because he’s got the smarts. archísei is easily smarter than most, if not all, the kids in his age range ( and probably even the kids older than him too ) so he breezes by in his course work and doesn’t find school interesting. as a result, he would definitely beg his dad to let him skip school and go to work with him and because mamoru is weak, he says yes every single time.

did i say he’s a momma’s boy? he’s definitely a momma’s boy. when he’s a child ( and still too young to stop and question her things ) they did almost everything together. from baking ( and failing at it ), to her teaching him how to do his eyeliner ( this one is completely kyecupio’s ), and he would probably learn to dance from her too. overall they’re just very ‘in-sync’ with each other due to the natural link between them ( similar to her and chib’s connection in canon ). she’s probably the person he loves and idolizes the most which is why it’s going to hurt so much once he learns out that she’s been the one lying and deliberately holding him back all this time.

he doesn’t need help with his homework but usagi and mamoru will sometimes sit down with him anyway - although in usagi’s case, he probably ends up teaching her than the other way around.

a lot of the bed time stories he was told where legends passed down in the moon kingdom or vague stories about other worlds she had been told to as a child.

luna is their cat ( although i’m still debating if it’s moon kingdom luna or just a cat with the same name ). regardless, she’s very protective of him and snuggles with him at night.

pre-teen / things go to shit stuff this section wasn’t supposed to exist but here we are

him entering his pre-teens is when his relationship with his parents, specifically his mother, slowly deteriorates. usagi and mamoru have very different approaches on how to handle their son and his desires to see more outside of DI: usagi wants him to play with other kids / make friends while mamoru feels that if he should be allowed to do things at his own pace because mamoru relates / understands him in ways that she can’t. he was ‘different’ by being the boy who lost his parents / memories and he grew tired of everyone taking pity on him so he just learned to deal with being alone in his own way until he was able to grow and move passed it.

they would definitely have family nights where they would sail to one of the smaller islands to have a small bbq, watch the stars, have fun, etc. these decrease as archísei grows older; he makes up excuses not to attend before eventually not even bothering with doing that.

also that natural link he and his mother have? it’s gone now or more accurately it’s like he’s unknowingly created a barrier around himself that effectively shuts her out. so while she could naturally always faintly ‘feel’ him ( whether it was emotionally or just knowing if he was nearby ),  that’s just not there anymore. it hurts her a lot.

he definitely eventually hears them arguing one night over usagi’s ‘past’ and whether they should tell them to truth. usagi is very ‘nope, not doing that’ despite mamoru trying to convince her otherwise. also if luna is moon kingdom luna then that means the cat that’s been watching over him since he was baby, claiming a dedicated sleeping spot on his bed, and has casually walked with him to school can talk and would probably be on mamoru’s side. archísei vc: you guys have even been lying about the fucking cat too????

when he does finally leave, there’s a....denial about it as they try to convince themselves that maybe he’s just staying late at a friend’s house even though they know he doesn’t have any or maybe he’s camping out on that island he always likes to visit. ‘ we’ll lecture / yell at him about breaking curfew in the morning ’ is what they say but then he’s still not back home in the morning. they check his school and learn he hasn’t been there in over a week so then they start knocking on neighbor’s doors, asking if they’ve seen their son and get no answers. they even check the surrounding islands but he’s still nowhere to be found which is when reality sets in hard. they don’t know if he’s lost at sea, dead, or if usagi’s greatest fear has been realized and he’s somehow managed to leave this world entirely. they just don’t know.

and like not to be cliche but......she loves her son so much and that love can never be replicated or replaced by another so him leaving literally breaks her heart in a way that can’t be fixed ( twil.ight, outside of its soundtracks and leah / rosalie, is not good™ but the song in this scene always...made it weirdly memorable to me and i feel like it’s lyrics accurately sums up how she feels internally - i don’t really see her completely shutting out everyone / just sitting around the house as usagi’s been wearing a mask for a long time and can externally hold it together but would she have sobbing fits at the beach in the middle of the night? yes. ).

also mamoru’s pain over losing his son is important / shouldn’t be brushed over because he literally can’t remember his own parents and has been alone until this strange woman falls, quite literally, into his life. she becomes his new family before giving him a son who he loved so much that he risked sailing the ocean and eventually drowning for because he was so desperate to reach him, to tell him he was sorry for the lies, and that everything would be okay. good god what a DAD.

bonus ‘what if things didn’t suck from the start’ b/c i gotta get this all out my system!

usagi meeting mamoru under less dire circumstances aka she’s free to able to travel to other worlds and casually takes him back to ‘her place’ which just so happens to be a secret kingdom. usagi: haha isn’t it rad!!! mamoru: *chuckling nervously* what the fuck!!!!!

archísei is still ‘different’ but more in that he symbolizes how ‘traveling outside of their home can be good for the MK’s people’ instead of something to be frowned upon.

catch him always in nana serenity’s arms, holding her hand, and them having little picnics together. she also gets him out of trouble from his parents all the time!!!

his aunts / the senshi spoil him so much!!!!! ami ( the nerd ) and setsuna ( the time lord ) are his favorites for obvious reasons but he has unique relationships with all of them - minako and rei probably baby him just as quickly as they would discipline him if they needed to. makoto constantly bakes sweet stuff for him and makes him lunches packed with his favorite food. michiru and haraku are the vodka cool aunts who teach him all about fashion and how to not just look better than everyone else but how to actually be better than everyone else too. he would also probably get along really well with hotaru?? she’s kind of the ‘other’ in the group / not really supposed to exist in a way so maybe they can relate to being different and celebrating that.

he still leaves for scala ad caelum to train but usagi is very dramatic and there’s lots of tears and crying. archísei: mama i’m not even going to be gone that long!!! usagi: b-but!!! *starts sobbing again* 

archísei brings eraqus home and mamoru / usagi are just being hella nosy the whole time. mamoru and usagi in union: who dat??? 👀👀👀

there are lots of crying from mom and dad during his coronation / when he eventually succeeds usagi as the moon kingdom’s monarch!!!! 

BASICALLY EVERYONE IS A LOT MORE WELL ADJUSTED AND THIS DOESN’T END IN DISASTER GOODBYE.

[shimmershaewrites]

Waltzing's for Dreamers, Chapter 9 (a Walking Dead story, Caryl AU).

Title:  Waltzing's for Dreamer's

Rating:  I'm going to say M, just to play it safe. 

Warnings:  Adult language.  Some innuendo. 

Characters/Pairings:  Carol/Daryl, Bob Stookey, Merle Dixon.  Mentions of Andrea Harrison and Amy Harrison, Dale and Irma Horvath, Michonne, Sophia Peletier, Simon. 

 Sorry for the delay on this.  I got sucked into watching Ice Dancing, hahaha, and yeah.  It's Tuesday already.  ;)  Oops.  Damn, I really need to go to bed.  If it's makes you feel better, it's twice as long as usual, lol.  Which, shit.  Means there's twice as much chance for typos--that I will totally fix later. 

  Waltzing’s for Dreamers

    Four months after Vegas.  Their first Thanksgiving together as a pseudo-family.  More accurately, the aftermath.   

      “Thanks for the invite,” Bob grins.  “The leftovers, too,” he says, lifting the foil wrapped plate in his hands as they reach the foot of the stairs and near his door. 

  Offering up a distracted nod as acknowledgment, Daryl peers out into the November night.  His expression sours a bit when he sees the orange glow of a lit cigarette and the outline of a familiar figure.  He ducks his head, attempts to piece together an apology.  “Hey.  Uh, about what my brother said…” 

  The former army medic barely spares him a second glance, just shrugs the whole awkward situation off like water off a duck’s back as he fumbles one-handed for the keys in his pocket.  “It’s alright.” 

  He shakes his head.  Sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.  “Don’t have to say that because I know it ain’t.  Fucker was a real asshole to you and I know he ain’t gonna say sorry himself so I’m sayin’ it for him.  M’sorry.  You didn’t deserve that.”  The man’s ever-present smile freezes.  Just a moment, a blink and you’d miss it second that leads Daryl to believe he’s somehow made this whole mess worse, but then it returns slow and easy-like. 

  “Apology accepted.  Now tell Carol I’ll wash her plate up and have it back to her in no time.” 

  “Ain’t no rush,” Daryl tells him gruffly. 

  “Tell her,” Bob insists. 

  “Will,” he agrees, rubbing a restless hand over the scruff on his chin as his eyes gravitate again to the parking lot.  The orange glow has disappeared, but he can still make out his brother’s outline lurking around his truck and his jaw clenches.  He tenses even more when he feels a hand land briefly on his shoulder, forces himself to relax when he realizes the other man just wants to offer him a bit of friendly, unsolicited advice.  

  “Keep it civil.  Don’t let him get under your skin.  You’ll be giving Simon the ammunition we both know he’s been looking for.” 

  Daryl takes the pointed reminder to heart.  Grits his teeth and digs his blunt nails into his palms when his brother starts spewing his same old garbage, cackling like it’s high comedy instead of ignorant drivel, making him question how he ever managed to look the other way in the past.

  “Lookin’ pretty cozy over there with Ole Buckwheat.  Hell.  Thought for a second you two’s gonna kiss goodnight.”   

  “Man, fuckin’ shut your mouth,” he snaps, snatching up the cigarette Merle offers him and tossing it to the cracked asphalt below.  Grinding it beneath the heel of his shoe and anticipating the irritated slap to the back of his head, ducking just in time and making his brother grumble under his breath in response. 

  “Takin’ it you ain’t gettin’ no so-called benefits out of this marriage arrangement of yours.  Wouldn't be wound so tight if you was.” 

  “Benef…” Daryl sputters.  Jerking his collar up against the noticeable chill in the air, he stalks off.  Avoids facing the knowing glint in Merle’s eyes head on.  “Benefits?” he scoffs.  “Ain’t like that, Asshole.  You even hearin’ yourself?”  He whirls around angrily when the sonuvabitch starts laughing like some kind of crazed hyena.  He figures he probably ain’t far off.  Expects to see his eyes bright and wild with his latest ticket to oblivion, but they’re clear.  Calculating and concerned in their own way.  “Goddammit, Merle.  What you playin’ at?” 

  “Ain’t playin’ at nothin’,” Merle shrugs.  “Just wanted to confirm something and you confirmed it for me alright.” 

  Tiredly, he asks.  Because he knows he can’t let it go.  “Yeah?  What’s that?” 

  “This little situation you got yourself stuck in, it’s more real than you bargained for.” 

  His words strike a little too close to the truth.  Glance off an unshielded nerve and Daryl mutters, “How you figure that exactly?”  

  “You’re in love with her.  Even worse, you done tripped ass over tea kettle for that little girl watchin’ your every move with stars in her eyes.  Might as well admit it, Baby Brother.  You treading water in the deep end.” 

  “Fuck you,” he growls. 

  “See now,” Merle smirks.  “I bet if you ask her real nice and polite-like, your mousy little missus will let you crawl between her thighs and…”

  Daryl gets up in his brother’s face, pointed finger stabbing him in the chest and voice hissing low.  “Best not finish that sentence.”

  Holding his hands up, the elder Dixon steps back.  “All I’m sayin’ is you ain’t alone.  Know you didn’t see ‘em.  But judgin’ by them heart eyes she was givin’ you over the dinner table, you and Mouse is in the same boat.  And Ole Merle, well…” 

  Daryl cuts him off, his denial vehement.  “Ain’t you.”

  In an instant, Merle sobers.  “Never claimed you was.” 

  “Merle…” 

  “You try to apologize, I’m gonna kick your ass into the end of February.  You feel something, you stick by it.”  Cupping his big hands over Daryl’s shoulders, he looks him in the eyes.  All the jokes, all the innuendos stripped away in a rare moment of sincerity.  “Mean it ‘til somebody does something deservin’ of reconsiderin’ but don’t you dare say you’re sorry.” 

  Caught off-guard by his brother’s serious tone, he can do no more than nod.  Look down to his feet. 

  Clapping a hand against Daryl’s neck, Merle gives his hair one last obnoxious knuckling before putting some distance back between them and patting his front pocket for his pack of cigarettes.  Coming up empty, he blows out a big breath.  Launches into a whole string of rambling words.  “Headin’ back out tomorrow.  Figured I’d see which way the wind takes me.  Can’t say as to when I’ll be back ‘round these parts.  Know it won’t be no big loss to you, but I probably won’t make it to you and your girls’ Christmas.” 

  He really lays it on thick, makes Daryl feel sorry as shit for him, and before he even recognizes what he’s doing, he’s inviting the weasel to breakfast.  Feeling like he’s just been played like a golden fiddle. 

  “Always was the sweet one,” Merle drawls as he cranks up the Triumph, starts walking the idling machine backward.  “Don’t you be keepin’ Mouse up all night.  Gettin’ an early start.” 

  Daryl’s answer to that is a middle finger salute as he turns on his heel, takes the steps two at a time until the door knob is turning under his hand and he’s letting himself back into the apartment that just hours ago had been filled to brimming with Stookey, Andrea and her kid sister Amy.  His Hawaiian shirt-wearing boss and the man’s wife, who just so happened to share an address with the youngest Harrison.  And Michonne and Merle, not to mention Carol and Sophia.  Now it’s empty.  Silent but for the absent humming that he follows to the kitchen and he lingers in the doorway, watches the woman that wears his ring.  Sleeps just down the hall from him every night and gives him a soft smile goodbye each and every morning since she first welcomed him inside her home.  “Hey,” he finally greets.  His voice rumbles low as he approaches her and a tiny shiver ripples across her slim shoulders.  One he wouldn’t have even noticed had he not been studying her so intently, and he schools his surprised expression, the very idea that Merle wasn’t just blowing smoke up his ass like always causing a seismic shift in his way of thinking.  The way he searches her blue, blue eyes when they light on him and sparkle in the low light. 

  “Hey,” she murmurs.  “Your brother make it out okay?”  

  Dipping his chin low to his chest, he steps up beside her at the sink.  Turns on the tap to start rinsing as she washes, her hands delving in and out of the soapy water.  “Asshole invited himself to breakfast tomorrow morning, though.” 

  She laughs, soft and silvery at the news, flicks a foamy bubble at him as she transfers a plate into his waiting hands.  “Sure hope he likes cereal.”

  He huffs out a laugh of his own.  “Yeah?” 

  “Yeah,” she smiles to herself.  “I don’t cook the day after Thanksgiving.  Not since Sophia and I have been on our own anyway.  It’s strictly cereal and leftovers.” 

  “New tradition?” he teases. 

  “Something like that.  Last year it was Lucky Charms.  This year we put it to a vote and decided to expand the menu to include Apple Jacks.” 

  “Knowing Merle like I do, he’ll eat that shit right up.  The less nutritional value the better far as he’s concerned,” he explains.   “Man’ll put damn near anything in his mouth.” 

  “In my admittedly limited experience,” she shyly points out, “he’s not the only one.  Pickled pig’s feet?  Seriously?” 

  The corner of his mouth lifts in a tiny half-smile of remembrance.  He still ain’t sure who’d been more disgusted.  The woman at his side or her girl.  “Sign of a true Dixon.” 

  “That so?” 

  Her fingers brush against his own when she hands him another plate and it’s all he can do to keep from shuddering because it’s like Merle’s offhand suggestion tripped all his circuits and his body’s stopped trying to mask its responses to her.  His heartbeat starts to pick up speed and his breath grows short.  His voice sounds a little strangled when he responds, “Yeah.  Yeah.”  He clears his throat but it does little good.    “T’is.”  He hasn’t felt this off-balance since he woke up in that bed with her, his dick all snuggled up to her backside, and he busies himself with arranging the rinsed dishes in the nearby strainer.  Gazing out the tiny kitchen window until he can trust himself not to bury his hands in all those messy curls piled up on the top of her head.  Pull her to him and kiss her ‘til she sighs and melts against him, soapy water soaking him to the skin because dammit.  This isn’t what they agreed.  This isn’t what either of them signed up for.  Already, he adores that little girl sleeping down the hall too much to fuck things up by letting his head go under.  Allowing himself to fall in love with her mama.  Anyway.  It’s too soon.  Too damn soon to even be entertaining these thoughts.  Fuckin’ Merle.  Ain’t ‘til she reaches over him, places the last of the dishes in the strainer beside his own that he realizes how lost in his head he’d been.  How his silence had worried her. 

  “Hey.”  Her brows furrow and her teeth tug at her bottom lip.  “I was just teasing.  You know that, right?” 

  “Know,” he mutters.  “Think I’m gonna take a shower.  Go ahead and turn in.  Been a long day.”  He forces himself not to react to the disappointment she can’t quite hide on her pretty face.  Covers up his own guilt by making one last half-hearted offer.  “Need any more help with anything in here?” 

  Quietly, she reassures him.  “I’m alright.  Be sure to save some warm water for me.” 

  Won’t be a problem, he thinks.  “Will,” he promises.  “G’night.”

  “Good night, Daryl.”