#anyway i think the Misfortune of the past week finally killed my brain

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

the artblock be hitteth Harder than normal, for tis not normal artblock. woe. Wally be upon ye

[raiseyourcups]

Cabur

Chapter Eight

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character Warnings: strong language, death threats, the start of possible pining Word Count: 2.2k Also on AO3 

Masterlist

Summary: Everyone settles into the village expecting to be there for a while. The Child almost eats a frog, Cara drinks, Aili takes in some sun while watching the Child, and Mando is...well, Mando. Also Cara has questions...

Note: Sorry for posting so late, things happened and I was not at a computer for a day and mobile posting is not my friend

The Mandalorian leaned against the hut he had been sharing with the Child and Aili while Cara sat down, feet up on an upturned bucket. Omera came out, cup of spotchka in hand for Cara that she handed over with a smile on her face. Cara thanked her before continuing to enjoy the peace and quiet. 

Omera looked over at the Mandalorian, “Can I set you something in the house?”

“Uh, maybe later, thank you,” Mando said, Cara picking up on his awkward tone a little better than Omera. 

“He’s happy here,” Omera said, looking over at the Child who was surrounded by the other children in the village. 

“He is.” 

“Fits right in,” Omera chuckled before she left the two to their thoughts. Cara took a sip of her spochtka before looking over at Mando. She almost couldn’t tell what his gaze was settled on, it was either on the Child playing with the other children, Omera as she walked away, or Aili who had decided to bathe earlier and was now sun drying her hair, splayed out on a crate she had dragged out to the middle of a sunny area. She hadn’t even bothered to put her jacket or shirt back on yet, her torso only covered by a tank top. 

Cara took another sip of her drink before turning to Mando. "So what happens if you take off the helmet? They come after you and kill you?” Cara asked lightly. She didn’t want to piss Mando off before she got any answers from him. She had tried to ask Aili but had just gotten a shrug in return. She still wasn't sure if the other woman was just avoiding the question or if she really didn't know.

"No. You just can’t ever put it back on again.”

"That's it?" She questioned incredulously. She didn't know very much about Mandalorian culture but if that was the worst that would come of it then why was it an issue? "So you're telling me that there's nothing stopping you from taking it off and settling down with the kid and your girlfriend?"

"She's not…she's a pain in my ass," Mando turned to stare at Cara. Even with the helmet she could read the annoyance in his body language. But that wasn't all she could read.

"Ah, I didn't say I was talking about Aili," Cara teased. "Be honest,you want at least one quickie. I can tell you like someone that can kick ass and she’s even more skilled than me. Maybe even more trained than you with the way she knocked you on your ass."

The Mandalorian had no response to Cara's statement knowing that she would probably see through any lie he said. She wasn’t wrong, he would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about Aili like that during the last few weeks. But the mouth she had on her...he shook the thoughts out of his head. No. He wouldn’t think of her that way, not while she was still on his ship. 

“Okay then, what about the pretty widow and her cute kid?”

“Stop.”

Cara chuckled, “Yeah, I’d stick with the Dragon over a single mom, even one who can use a blaster, any day.”

“What did you call her?”

Cara froze, she hadn’t meant to say that. “Oh, uh, just a nickname I came up with. She fights like a cornered Krayt Dragon.”

“Never seen one.”

“Hope you never do, they could swallow you whole in one bite.” Cara shuddered a little. She had never had the misfortune of seeing a live Krayt Dragon but she knew people who had and they still had nightmares about it. That was enough to keep her far away from them.

“You know, we raised some hell here a few weeks back. It’s too much action for a backwater town like this. Word travels fast,” Mando said, staring back out at the village. “We might want to cycle the charts and move on.”

“Would not wanna be the one who’s gotta tell them,” Cara said, gesturing to the Child and Aili with her cup. Both of them seemed to be enjoying themselves, Aili even playing with the kids when they pulled her into it. Cara thought it was cute that she was good with kids when she grew up the way she did. 

“I’m leaving them here.”

“Whoa, you really think that’s going to fly with her?” Cara questioned, eyebrows raised all the way up. 

“Traveling with me, that’s no life for a kid. He has a better chance at a life here.”

“And Aili?”

“She was tasked with helping me get the Child off Nevarro and she has, even helped make this place safe for him,” Mando explained, staring at the Child who was sitting down and at Aili who was swinging one of the other kids around in a circle, a bright smile on her face. There was a weird feeling in his chest at the sight but he pushed it down as quickly as it came. 

“Do me a favor, make sure I’m not in sight when you tell her.”

“She’ll get over it, he’ll get over it too.”

“Whatever you say Mando,” Cara finished her cup and placed it down beside her. She let out a sigh knowing she couldn’t just keep something like this from Aili. She watched as the other woman put the child she was playing with down, saying something to the kids and walking off. Cara waited a couple of beats before getting up. 

“I’m going to do a perimeter check, just in case.”

Mando let out a noise of agreement before he went into the hut for something. Cara didn’t wait for him to come back out before she was half-jogging to catch up with Aili. “Aili!”

“Hey Cara, did you need something?” Aili asked, catching her breath from twirling around with the kids. It had been a while since she had done that, not since Shaeli and Jaesa started their training. 

Cara weighed her options, either she kept her mouth shut and risked Aili’s wrath when she found out she knew or she just, “Mando’s planning on leaving.”

“Oh.” Aili was surprised but not really. It made sense, they had been there for a few weeks now and it was probably time to move on anyway. “When does he want to leave? I can be ready to go in an hour or two.”

“He’s planning on leaving you and the kid.”

Aili stared at Cara in surprise, mouth falling open a little and she was at a loss for words. But after the shock came the burning anger that Mando didn’t even have the balls to tell her this to her face. “Excuse me.”

Cara winced as she watched Aili stalk away and she only hoped that she had done the right thing. There was just something that told her it wouldn’t be right to leave her on Sorgan. With the small hope that Aili wouldn’t kill the Mandalorian in broad daylight, Cara turned to go around the village perimeter. 

“Mando!” Aili shouted across the village, not even trying to hide her anger. She spotted him with Omera and stalked over, barely even noticing that the other woman had been about to remove his helmet. “Sorry, I need to talk to him real quick.”

She didn’t wait for either of them to speak before she shoved him further towards the tall grass. “Why did Cara just tell me that you’re planning on ditching me and the kid here?” Aili growled out, barely restraining herself from lashing out at Mando. He was lucky that she didn’t have any weapons on her at the moment other than her fists. But she did know all of the areas not covered by armor that she could make hurt. 

“It’s safe here,” Mando reasoned, still a little shaken that he had almost let Omera remove his helmet. 

“Leave the kid here, fine. Stay here with Omera if you want, but I need to get back to Nevarro.” 

“There’s a bounty on you too, do you really think they’ll just let you back without another shootout?” Mando questioned, making a note to never tell Cara anything like this again. 

“I don’t care.”

“What do you have on Nevarro that’s so important? Your ship?”

“Fuck you, Mando. You try to leave me here and I’ll remove your head from your body and take your helmet as a trophy.” 

The Mandalorian had to pause at the venom in her voice before he spoke, stumbling a little over his words. “The Covert would go after you.”

“Your Armorer owes me a debt, I would cash it in. Big Blue didn’t seem to like you anyway.”

“Paz Vizsla,” Mando scoffed. “Ori'buyce, kih'kovid.”

“I don’t give a kriff if he has bantha shit for brains in that helmet. You are not leaving me here," Aili said with a finality in her voice before she turned on her heel to stalk away from him.

“Atin shabuir,” Mando said under his breath. Aili paused before spinning around to face him with a glare on her face. That seemed to be her default face around him unless he had the Child in his arms. Even sharing living quarters for the past few weeks hadn’t helped them not be at each other’s throats more often than not so they usually didn’t spend time around each other. 

“Do you wanna say that to my face?”

“You know Mando’a?”

“A bit, enough to call you a sheb’urcyin.”

Mando had to take in a breath before speaking again. "Who taught you?” He hadn’t known hearing someone outside of the Covert speaking Mando’a would sound so good. Even if it was Aili who was clearly still a pain in his ass. 

"None of your business," Aili said shortly before pointing a finger at his chest. "You do not get to leave me here."

He was about to reply when a loud blaster shot rang throughout the village and without thinking he pulled Aili behind him, pulling out his blaster at the same time. “The Child!”

Aili didn’t have to be told twice even if she was peeved that Mando thought he had to protect her. She ran over to where the children were huddling and panicked until Winta called her name. The girl held the Child out for Aili to take and she thanked her while checking over Little Green. He looked no worse for wear, a smudge of dirt on his robe probably from being pushed down to protect him from the blaster shot. 

Mando and Cara came back from the woods and Aili could see the stiffness in their shoulders. She walked over to them, Child in her arms. “What is it?” she asked as soon as she met them in the middle. 

“They know he’s here, tracking fobs are still working,” Mando said, shoulders tense and voice hard behind the modulator. 

Aili let out a quiet curse, “Kriff, he can’t stay here.”

“No, we need to leave as soon as possible.” With that they took off for the huts they had been staying in and quickly packed up everything they had brought from the Razor Crest. It wasn’t actually a lot, seemed like less than when they had first arrived somehow but Aili wasn’t about to complain. Mando tried to get Aili to put the Child down or at least give him to someone else while they packed but she refused. 

“I don’t need two hands to pack, Mando. It doesn’t have to be pretty right now it just needs to get done fast.”

They got everything loaded up fast while Mando decided they weren’t going to go through the town near where he had parked the Crest. It was safer, just in case there were other bounty hunters hiding around. 

“You two sure you don’t want an escort?” Cara asked, her bag over her shoulder. 

“I am the escort,” Aili laughed, raising a brow in challenge. Cara shook her head at the shorter woman, an easy laugh coming out. 

“Yeah I guess you are.”

“I appreciate the offer, but we’re gonna bypass the town completely,” Mando said, placing another container on the lift. “Hopefully no firefights.”

“Gonna head straight for the Crest.” Aili added, shrugging her shoulders. It was the best course of action and they all knew it. 

“Well then, until our paths cross,” Cara held a hand out for Mando to take.

“Until our paths cross.”

She gave him a nod and a smile before letting go, turning to Aili with the same offer. Aili was quick to take the hand, “Until our paths cross but until that time comes…”

“Keep it quick, quiet, and hope nobody will notice.” Cara finished, laughing before letting go and walking away, going in the direction of the town. She at least still had that option unlike their odd trio. 

Aili let out a huff of laughter before she picked the Child up, hopped onto the lift and placed him on her lap. He looked up at her and let out a sad sound. She ran a finger down his nose, “I know buddy, I liked it here too.”

Winta suddenly ran up and looked at Aili before pulling the Child into a hug, pulling at Aili’s heart strings. The girl wiped away a few tears before running back to her mom’s side. Mando tossed one last bag onto the lift before sitting down at the edge beside Aili, a bag in between them. The lift started to move and with one last wave and a nod from Mando, they left peace and quiet behind.

Mando'a translations Ori'buyce, kih'kovid: All helmet, no head Atin shabuir: Stubborn "jerk" but much stronger insult, so I'm going with "stubborn ass" sheb’urcyin: ass-kisser

[fae-redux]

rules of the game: ch. 5 - my kind’s your kind

Story Summary: 

The Evergreen and Imagi were never quite in peacetime. Roman’s just trying to figure out how to survive and succeed his mother. Logan wants to live long enough to use his magic however he wants. Patton is coasting while repressing everything, still trying to figure out what feelings are. 

Virgil doesn’t want to change the world. 

Luckily, it isn’t up to him.

first | ao3 | prev

Chapter Summary: Dee and Virgil are both of the Evergreen. They don’t already know this.

Word count: 2658

Pairings: future lamp, platonic anxceit

~|~

When he finds Dee sitting innocently at his dining table with nothing but a cup of tea and a saucer in front of him, Virgil knows he knows. 

“Did you know,” Dee starts, not looking up from his tea (Virgil can feel his barely contained glee from where he stands), “that Queen Valerie received quite the surprise this morning?”

He’s smirking like Virgil should already know. “No,” he attempts to shrug casually because it’s not technically a lie, “What surprise?”

“The queen certainly did not acquire a child,” His eyes light up, “And she really didn't get the twin fae child of the one you just cursed, no, she did not.” He laughs and practically spins out of his seat to get a good look at Virgil, effectively cutting off his path to his room. “Why didn’t you invite me on your hunt? We wouldn’t have had any fun together! There’s always something as good as some classic bonding, cursing unsuspecting humans, stealing children, you know!”

Virgil exhales a long breath through his nose, trying to move around the fae. “You are way too excited about this.”

“Well, it’s only what I haven’t wanted for years,” Dee tilts his head forward facetiously, an arm blocking his exit again, “Horrible of you to give me an early birthday present.”

Virgil gives up trying to get to his room and takes the seat Dee vacated, but then his brain catches up with what Dee just said. “Wait, I didn’t curse the kid, I cursed the queen.”

“According to the Seelie that just came from the outskirts, you definitely did not get the kid, and your magic is super stable,” Dee shrugs, moving his cup to the sink, practically fluttering his hands in joy. “The kid’s a bad mark, and if he grows up anything like his mother, you’ll be sorry you did it.”

Virgil looks at Dee, who is still grinning, genuinely ecstatic for the first time since Virgil’s met him, and thinks, maybe this isn’t the worst thing. If the queen does raise the child herself, he doesn’t have that much hope for the kid, and with King Cromwell under her thumb, it’s unlikely the kid will know what life outside the citadel looks like.

“I can see it now,” He says. The deal is composed of a thick cord that holds strong. Even tugging on it now, he feels the prince, crying alone in a nursery, and can’t believe he didn’t feel it before, “I should probably break it.” 

“Sure, if you don’t want the death of a child on your hands. Magic doesn’t come with backlash.” Dee raises an eyebrow, and he hastily takes his hand back from the rope. “Besides there have been plenty of instinctive magic curses in fae history. It’s not like we don’t have the theory to even begin going about breaking it without killing you or the kid.”

He shakes his head and resolves to ignore the thing.

Dee is happy. It’s a shame, Virgil thinks. If what Virgil can recall about what he said is right, the young prince has twenty years to live, and nothing he does will affect the curse or change its course. It’s all up to Adelaide. 

He doesn’t dwell on the seed of guilt that starts to grow in his stomach. 

He doesn’t.

~|~

As much as he likes to focus on his misfortune, Virgil knows that when he can’t fix all his problems, it’s best to start with the ones he can handle. 

The thing is, Dee’s right. His magic is unstable in that he doesn’t know what he already did with it or how to use it, and if he can’t learn to put some sort of a leash on it, he’ll be reliant on Dee forever, which isn’t ideal. 

On the bright side, Dee seems delighted by the turn of events that is Virgil asking for magic lessons. They’ve started to learn to live with each other in the past couple weeks, Dee accommodating Virgil and teaching him how to do things around the estate, and Virgil carefully staying out of the way of Dee’s clients. This really is an extension of their preexisting lessons.

Dee starts them off by trying to figure out what sort of fae Virgil is. It would be going better if the only things he could talk about weren’t the way the plants lead him to Dee’s hide-away home in the Evergreen and the whole “curse” incident. 

“How did you get away from a full ballroom of knights and iron? The queen wouldn’t have been extra careful with the presence of a child,”  Dee has about seven books open trying to figure out what Virgil’s fae history is made of. 

He shrugs, letting his shoulders slump in a little more, taking another bite of his food and ducking behind his bowl a little as Dee tosses another book to the side. “I heard the sound of breaking glass behind me? It sounded like your illusion breaking that first night we met, so I assume it was some kind of illusion magic. I just remember thinking I didn’t want them to see me leave. Illusions and plant-based magic are two very different things, though, so I don’t really understand how I would have both.”

Dee snorts, putting his own bowl down. “Even for a novice, you’ve got a horrible understanding of magic.” He brushes through his history of plant fae grimoire while frequently glancing from Virgil to the book. He turns the book so Virgil can see, “Match?”

Virgil looks at the portrait in the book of a fae with a wide face and a stubby nose and shakes his head. “I read a lot in the castle so I know a lot about magic. My mother’s collection told me about fae magic, but Adelaide’s collections taught me other kinds of magic. I moved most of her spellbooks and grimoires to my room, so even if the queen decides to go book burning, those would probably be safe. She probably doesn’t remember that I used to live in the west tower.”

The ache that comes with thinking about his old home isn’t new but he almost wishes the bittersweet feeling would go away. The castle always used to have the best view of the sunset and the most wonderful view of the full moon in the sky. Jam tarts were always a bonus too, especially when they got the ones with the special red jam. Those were things that made it really feel like home.

Dee turns the book around again. “This one?” 

Virgil stops thinking about the castle. 

The portrait shows an eager lady with sharp ears and elongated incisors and long silver blonde hair, about to pounce off the page. Her grin looks the same as his mother’s did before she hatched a plan to get them both in trouble. The manor staff used to hate that smile. 

“That one,” he swallows down and clenches his fists to hold back the tremors he feels coming on, but it just sends sharp stings of pain through his palms. No one had told him about being part fae. No one even suggested it before Dee. If the queen knew, she surely wouldn’t have allowed Romulus to take him in. “Well, we know why about the plants now, though I’m not really sure how diluted my ancestry is,” He fiddles with the sleeves of his hoodie, and the hollow feeling in his chest persists. Enough fae blood to be fully realized by a deal gone awry, but not enough to affect him for the first 17 years of his human lived life. 

Dee waves a hand and begins to put books away. “The real problem is that we know exactly why you have illusion powers like me,” The muttering increases as Virgil just sits at the table, head leaning against his palm watching as Dee pulls random books out at will, only to look through two or three pages and return them to the shelf. “Your existence as a fae makes complete sense.”

Today has already been too much, but at the very least they have a hint. “Thanks,” he replies dryly. “It’s not as though anyone told me there was a fae in my family tree somewhere. I would go back and look for the documentation if it didn’t mean getting captured and tortured for eternity for daring Adelaide.”

The scowl on Dee’s face makes him use an arm to cover the lower half of his face and stifle his snicker. 

“Yes, you could go back, and all my hard work, gone, just like that?” The sarcasm is evident in his voice, as he shoots his judgmental gaze towards Virgil, “Stunning idea.”

“Nah, I think you like me too much to let me do that anyways,” Virgil openly smiles at the fae as he huffs and returns his attention to the shelves. “You do.”

“If the universe had not given you to me as a gift,” The light from the window glances off his yellow scales, making them glow, “You wouldn’t be dead right now. You would do well not to remember that.”

“Yeah,” Virgil rounds the table and plucks Dee’s bowl from where it sits, heading to the sink, “You like me.”

He doesn’t interrupt him, lets the grumbles fill the air, the only noises Dee can make without outright lying or telling the truth in the way he does.

Dee is a lot easier to understand than whatever the queen had going on, and they got on fairly well. Virgil doesn’t think it would be the worst thing to stick around for a while. 

~|~

Watching Dee set up his tools for their first illusions lessons shouldn’t be as funny as it is. He left early that morning after breakfast with a cementing potion, tubes of sticking potion, and a basket of things he hadn’t let Virgil peak at.

When he’s finally allowed outside, he sees the monstrosities that Dee made in all their glory. There are trinkets of every sort pulled together from various places in the house that appear to be fashioned together into odd amalgamations. One is made up completely of porcelain doll legs in the shape of a duck and another is made up of small duck statues that have been organized into the shape of a person.

Ridiculous sculptures aside, Dee’s efforts come with a long lecture that Virgil only manages to absorb parts of. 

“These won’t do for now, but the basis of this is you needn’t be able to maintain the same image in your head as the one you want to project as an illusion. It’s not like making the image in your head and turning it out of your brain to appear in the real world. Make sense?” Dee is looking very intently at the ducks while Julep watches amused from the sidelines.

Virgil frowns. “Is the correct answer yes?” He stares at the sculptures as if they will help him figure it out. “Because no.”

Sighing, Dee points at one of the ruinous creations, “When you look at that, what are you thinking about?” 

“I’m thinking about how weird it is that you own enough dolls to make a large duck out of their legs and how fucking weird you are for doing this. Why, what’s the point?”

He looks like he’s going to facepalm in a very undignified way for a moment. “Can you think of anything else besides the thing you’re looking at?”

Blinking at the creation, he thinks for a moment. How could anyone who had that in front of them not think about it? Then it hits him. That’s why he made these insane things. “You’re trying to improve my concentration on what I want the actual illusion to be.”

“You mustn't hold your concentration, or this won’t work. Try to focus on the statues, not an open field with flowers. Anything not like that.”

From where he sits with his eyes closed, he can feel the grass pulling up between his fingers and in the breeze. Imagining an empty field, he tries to picture what he thought of being in front of him. After a full minute of intense focus, he peeks one eye open, and Dee just waits, not saying anything. Nothing happened.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing,” He huffs, frustrated. He picks the dirt and grass out from under his nails, a wrinkle in his brow. “Turn the image, what does that even mean?”

“Don’t picture it in your head first,” Dee sits next to him and puts down the dangling chicken bone mobile he created. His back is straight and he rests his palms facing up on his knees. “Don’t take a deep breath, and forget to concentrate.” He moves his hands to the ground in front of him, “Now, don’t shift the image, like it's on a wheel from your mind, in front of your eyes.” 

Virgil watches as between blinks, the things vanish from sight. He raises a hand to tap the illusion, then hesitates and looks to Dee for permission. 

“Please don’t touch, it’s just so fragile,” Dee smirks and examines his nails. 

The tap sounds exactly like tapping a glass of water or on a window. A bright sound rings out, but the illusion doesn’t break. More confident now, Virgil knocks on the glass, and the prairie scene stays playing in front of him. 

“Honey, you’re gonna have to try softer than that to break it,” Dee picks up the shovel he brought with him to build his structures. “Watch and don’t learn a thing!” The fae laughs as he swings it full force at the illusion, spinning with the momentum of the turn. 

The sound of breaking glass echoes through the field with his laughter, and Virgil can’t help his flinch, looking away so his eyes don't get hit with any of the glass. Nothing that comes his way feels like it hits him. In fact, the bits that do appear to hit him just vanish on impact. Curious, he runs his fingers along the edge of a piece that landed near him and startles as it melts into nothing the second he would have made contact with it. 

Behind the illusion, a single duck falls off its structure from the hit of the shovel, but otherwise, the creations are unharmed by Dee’s magic. 

“Illusions are weak until they are broken. You won’t learn in your own time,” Dee looks disappointed at the duck that fell off and tucks it in his pocket, though what for Virgil doesn’t know. “Not your turn!”

Virgil looks at the spot Dee had put his hand down and takes a deep breath, just like Dee told him. It’s hard not thinking about the statues in the yard, but he manages to make some sort of image in his head of an empty field. The wheel behind his eyes pulls the image over the image of the current field.

The turn feels strange but there’s something there. It leaks into his arms as he tries to put the image in front of him, and it feels like water running over his arms, uncomfortably smooth. He blinks his eyes open, and he’s completely dry, but he’s looking at an empty field. Well, a version of an empty field, anyways.

Dee clicks his tongue happily. The illusion is clearly the wrong time of day, the black of a night sky curling at the edges with sunlight, and as Dee flicks it with two fingers, it shatters. “For a first try, terrible.” It’s silly, but Dee grins just like Thomas would when he scored well on his chemistry assessments. “Now don’t do it again.”

Virgil puts his hands to the ground more confidently. He can do this however many times it takes to get it right.

[androgynousblackbox]

A day on the life of your favourite radio host

You woke up before your alarm did it’s job and then turned it off when it did. After putting on your shoes for home, stand up to open up the window and breath the smell of the beatiful flowers around the house. What a lovely morning! The sun was clear, there wasn’t any bird chirping and you could feel optimistic about today. But then again, when weren’t you a ball of sunshine with that bright smile on your face?

You could have greeted your neighborhood good morning, of course, but there was no one left to greet. The houses both at the sides of your own and in the front were empty, waiting for new owners, but it was so hard on the current economy and so funny for you in particular. How many people have sold their own children for one of those houses? Killed for them? Lied, stole? Oh, who knows! But it was entertaining to think about it as you dressed up.

You wear a white shirt you ironed yourself last night after cleaning it up; the closed vest matching the tone of your pants and your shoes, so pleasantly shiny and clean as if they were new. A wonderful way to start any day as you hummed your way down to the kitchen, preparing some toast and tea. You made a recount of your nocturnal activities and mental notes to keep track off for later. Thank goodness you had such a excelent memory, because the things you needed to remember were not things meant for writing on any common language. After cleaning up everything, you stepped outside and looked at your house with a inevitable sigh of nostalgia. It looked almost exactly the same as when your dear beloved mother was there, even the boarded up window of the attic. To think your own mother didn’t believe you when you said you threw the neighbor’s kid from there. It had been a perfectly honest accident. You just opened up for that small little boy to reach the wooden plane that had landed on your roof and then watched with amusement as he tried to balance out over the inclined surfice, only to finally slip out and meet his bitter end against the ground. You would have never harm a child, that is for sure. A man such as yourself might not have a lot of rules to live by, but that was certainly one of them. But watch them do reckless things without moving a finger to prevent it… well, that was another story, isn’t it? He couldn’t control gravity. And who was he to intervene betwen a boy and his new toy? You walked all the way to the radio station you were working, greeting everyone you knew and even some that didn't; they stared at you with such pathetic little admiration that was hard to resist to aknowledge it. Sat down on your chair, rolled up your sleeve  and waited for the signal indicating you were ready to talk. “Good day, my lovely listeners! Isn’t a espectular day today? Our way of living maybe be crushing under our feet and the hope of ever returning to what is normal seems dimmer with every second we are breathing the poison that is our life, but don’t fret, your good friend radio host will always be here for you! Let’s take a look to the news of the day, shall we?” You grabbed on a newspaper an assistant had handed to you and unfolded it, taking care for not to do it over the microphone. “My, it seems like the rate of suicides is rising once again! It seems that everyone’s salary is not the only thing that is dropping, ha! Oh, and it seems so many kids are currently on the streets right now as their parents sold them for their own sake. Better take care of your garbage, listeners, or you might find one of them looking for their lunch as you are listening and then you will have to clean up that mess! Mmm, I guess you could throw away a couple of scraps for the little lads but, between you and me, my friend, do you really want to? But you all know how children are, and unfortunely  their attempts can’t be avoided until are not able to keep looking anymore. It’s a sad, sad situation, indeedy, but that is why we must appreciate still the few delights we have left on this corrupted world, my friend. Like music! Let us hear some more about that lady that has everyone perking up their ears.” You flicked some buttons and put one one of the newest records on the station as you received a few calls on the meantime. Most of the calls were about people talking about their own sad situation. I had to sell the precious chinese porcelain of my grandmother, I lost all my money thanks to some thief, the bread is so expensive that my family is eating paper and blah blah blah Almost the exact same speech from yesterday, too boring to lose too much time on them, and instead concetrated on the people requesting for a new song or talking about their new misfortunes that your dear listeners haven’t heard of yet. Someone had to actually eat their pet dog and that got their entire family a food poisoning! Ha! Hilarious!  You can make up this, folks! You continued the show until midday and you had to say goodbye for now to give place to the next host. You didn’t have to come back until a couple of hours so you had a chance to grab lunch on some of the few restaurants that remained open. There a lady asked you if you were who she thought you were and you said yes, inviting her to take a seat in front of you and engage on a conversation. There was no wedding ring or the usual bags under the eyes of a mother stressing about what to feed her children, so when the route went about talking for a date, you played along to please her by inviting her to come over your house so you could both have a home meal. She blushed and pretended like it was a hard choice. You played as well, convincing her that it would be fine, just a perfectly decent, not at all attention worthy dinner between a pair of new friends, nothing else to see. After a little of back and forth, she finally promised to be there and stood up to continue with her chores. You made another mental note and kept enjoying your food, that you were almost sure it was actually a cat caught on an alley, but at least tasted good. Back to work, you put music, told a few easy jokes that your mother was so fond of and had a little talk with a carpenter who had his entire business burning just last week, a fire in which all his family died during their sleep. It was highly amusing to ask him about if he still dreamt about their faces so peacefully in the night, as if they were sleeping, but knowing they were never going to wake up again and he was, quite frankly, at least somewhat responsable.

Of course with enough jokes that the carpenter just sniffed a little bit and was able to contain from crying until the microphone was off. Then the night came and you had to say goodbye until tomorrow. And they better wished them luck, dear listeners, because he was going to have a date tonight with some lovely lady! You returned back home with your usual high spirit, humming the most popular song today, and prepared everything for the big event. When your new friend appeared, the dinner was already done and ready to be served. Some delicious deer meat that he bought from some local hunters that before were just doing it for the hobby, but now they practically only survived on their meat, whenever they could find it. Unfortunately the population of aceptable prey had diminished so much since so many other people had similar ideas, so it was getting quite hard out there. Well, at least people were being more creative now! Didn’t you noticed some “feline grace” on your meal today? Ha! You were kidding of course. Not really. Anyway, as you both finished, you took her hand to accompany you into the basement, where you had your record player and they could listen to some nice music more comfortable. Why do you have a record player on the basement, she aks? Why, it was initially just not to bother your sweet mother since she prefered a silent environment to read her books, but even after her death, it became just a habit to keep it there. Yes, it is smells terrible, you know, you assured her as you secure the grip on her wrist and closetd the door with a key only you had. It was dark, you know, and you were aware the smell was so intense that was going to make your darling guest to puke on her beautiful dress. What is that smell? Oh, nothing extraodinary, just the stench of rotting corpses you had yet to get rid of. Oh, what a enjoyable moment of silence was that. Did she thought you were joking? Did she assume you meant anything else but exactly what you said? On the darker stairs you could see her face changing, the beautiful and slow metamorphosis from a pleasant but confused smile to an actual realization that you were not joking, not at all, and your smile wasn’t because you were laughing at her incredulity but rather, at her whole life. By the time she turned her head to the door, you had already pulled her down stair and kicked her knees out so she would stumble the rest of the way and crash her head against the concret cube you had precisely for those situation. Ah, it was almost magical when their fall was just right and their lives ended with a clear and satisfying crack. The truly fun part is when they didn’t die right away, just knocked out for the time being, with some unimportant brain damage nobody cared about; then you had the chance to help them stay alive a little longer… and they'd regret the fall didn’t kill them. You were so excited when you discovered she was still breathing despite the blood and the weird shape her head had adquired. So you hummed happily as you dragged to the center of your hard learned symbols and grabbed some of the ritual knifes all over the wall. When you were done with her, you cut out some of her bodyparts and put it on a bag, but it didn’t seem heavy enough and added some other parts of the other guests you had the past week. They weren’t actually rotting, of course. You kinda exagerated it just for the shits and giggles, but you had to start getting rid of them again. They were so much useful outside on the garden, feeding the flowers that you were proud to keep alive, colorful and beautiful against an ugly reality. As usual, once the bag was sufficiently heavy enough, all that was left was put in a suitcase and carried to your car; it was to be buried under the same tree where the powers you were so devoted to would have their feast. They were so glotonous those rascals, but it was a small price to pay for all the things you were promised long ago. Even if the time you were going to receive those rewards wasn't exactly clear, and even if it was a tiny bit frustrating, you didn't mind. The show must go on, as they say! The job was entertaining per se and you wouldn’t have minded to continue doing it for as long as necesary. Besides, it’s not like you could actually do anything even if you did had a problem. Which you don’t, for sure, so who cares? When you came back on the morning, you were surprised to see some people coming and going the house on your left, not just as sometimes curious youngsters would do, but carrying stuff from one place to another and not minding seeing enter your home, a bright disposition on your face despite still needing a shower. New neighbors, finally! How long was it since you took out the last one? Not that long, that you could remember. Oh, you so hope they were fun people.  Or miserable ones, which was almost the same thing as far you were concerned. The last thing you needed in your neighborhood was boredom.

[galadrieljones]

The Lily Farm - Chapter 27 (Arthur x Mary Beth)

AO3 | Masterpost

Rating: M (Mature) - sexual content, violence, and adult themes

To help her process Sean’s death, Mary Beth asks Arthur to take her on a hunting trip, somewhere far away. He agrees, and on their journey to the north, they find quietude and take comfort in their easy bond. They’ve been friends for a while now, but life, like the wilderness, is full of uncertainty and complications, and in their desperate search for meaning together, they endure a number of trials, some small, some big, all of which bring them closer to one another, as well as to their future. But they’ve fallen in love during hard times. With the gang tipping dangerously close to a breaking point in a changing world, Arthur must make a difficult choice. Can he escape his past, as well as the outlaw life, in order to start a family of his own? With Mary Beth by his side, one thing is certain: redemption and second chances finally seem within his grasp.

Chapter 27: American Mothers

They rode hard on their way back to Shady Belle, but even still. Kieran lost his steam in the evening and could no longer hold himself up on the back of Arthur’s horse. He seemed to have some cracked ribs or something, and this made it hard for him. They camped out near the river, right on the cusp of the swamp, and they put him in the tent, and he liquored up for the anesthetic properties. Meanwhile Arthur and Mary Beth set their bedrolls up outside, near the fire, under the stars. It was a fine break.

But Arthur was in some kind of pain. He was a little more beat up than he had let on to Mary Beth the night before, and now, with the adrenaline wore off and the night looming ahead, he was finally feeling it. He had the shiner on his cheek but it had come from throwing hands with the great big psychopath who had been guarding Kieran in Colm’s absence. In getting the gun away from him, Arthur endured a boot to the chest and a lot of gut punches. On one occasion, he had nearly lost consciousness and got a loud ringing in his ears when thrown hard into the stone wall of the cellar. Charles had come and dispatched of the man with his sawed-off at that point, and this is when they untied Kieran and got the fuck out of there. In any case, his entire body hurt. It felt like there was a ton of dull grit in his joints, and he thought his jaw might be a little loose. There was little blood, just black and blue, and he didn’t want to worry Mary Beth. So he tried to stay hushed about it that night when they lie side-by-side, sleeping on the hard earth, but she was canny and she noticed something was wrong nonetheless. She started asking him about it as soon as they heard Kieran start to snore from inside the tent.

“Arthur, how hurt are you?” she said, getting up. The crackling of the fire was all you could really hear.

“I’m fine,” said Arthur, lying flat on his back. Like a slab. “Leave it be, Mary Beth.”

“Sit up.”

“I ain’t gonna sit up.”

“Why not?”

He opened his eyes, turned his head a little to look at her. “Because. I’d prefer not to sit up. Not right now. If it’s all the same to you, my lady.”

“What happened?” she said. “Tell me, Arthur. Just because we’re getting married that don’t mean you get to start hiding stuff from me. That ain’t how this works. We’re still friends. You ain’t protecting nobody with that act of yours.”

He gave her a look. “I ain’t acting.” He took a deep breath then, winced. “You wanna know what happened?”

“Yeah.”

“I took a bad beating back there, at Lone Mule,” he said. “A big guy, he got a piece of me. No guns, no blood. Nothing like that. Just bruises. And I’ll be fine.”

“Why didn’t you just say so? About the beating?” she said.

“Because it ain’t life threatening,” he said. “I ain’t much of a complainer, and you don’t need to worry about it.”

“But you’re hurt, Arthur. I wanna know.”

“Why? So you can coddle me?”

She stayed quiet.

He sighed after this, feeling bad. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings. He turned toward her and it caused him pain to do so. He grabbed his side but didn’t linger and shook out his head to snap himself out of the pain. It was dull, he knew, and nothing was broken, and it would all subside in a week or so. “Mary Beth, I will always tell you the stuff you need to know. Understand?”

She shrugged. “Yes.”

“I can see that you’re overly worried,” he went on. “And I mean overly. As much as I am grateful to you for caring about me, I need you to try to take your own advice this time, just a little bit.”

“My own advice?”

“Yes. Just because we’re getting married, that don’t change what was,” he said. “Once, we was just friends, and I’d come to you in all manner of harm and distress and it was none the difference per our interactions, unless I said so. It’s one thing if I’m bleeding from the head, or if I’m shot, like what happened a few weeks ago, back up north. You will know when I am in more pain or danger than I can manage, but try to remember what’s remained. I ain’t no delicate specimen. I have dealt with a lot of…bodily misfortune over the years and if there is one thing I know better than anything about myself, it’s that I can handle a goddam beating. I’m okay.”

“But—”

He held up his hand, stopped her cold. “I’ll live. Please stop worrying.”

She sighed. She lay down again, on her back, staring up at the sky and fussing with the ends of her hair. She seemed off.

“You okay?” he said, softer now. “You seem…anxious. Is it about last night still? Colm?”

“Probably,” she said, too quickly. She looked a little annoyed for another minute, but then, out of nowhere, she seemed to reset, and she smiled in her regular habits of misdirection, and this was perplexing.

“What’s funny?” he said.

“Nothing,” she said. She looked at him.

“What is it?”

“When we first got back from that trip up north,” she said, “and you was out, talking to Hosea on the balcony, Abigail stole me away and made me tell her everything about us.”

This defused the argument. It was completely amusing to him. “Well, that sounds about right.”

“Anyway,” said Mary Beth, still fussing with her hair. “We ended up talking about you. She told me a story about this one time…this time before I got here, when you got so drunk in a saloon, you punched a hole in a piano.”

Arthur blinked. He had forgotten all about that. “Shit,” he said. “Abigail remembers the piano?”

Mary Beth shrugged, still smiling. “I think you was in a bad way when you did it. Still. It was kind of a funny image. Picturing you, so big and drunk and just like, swinging your arms around, landing a hole right in a piano. I ain’t making fun. Just…the idea. It’s like something out of a moving picture show.”

Arthur laughed at this, low and deep in his chest. He was lying on his back again with his eyes closed. “Yeah. I’d seen better days. Better years in fact. I was an idiot.”

“You was heartbroken,” she said. “It’s okay, Arthur. Everybody does stupid stuff when they’re out of their right mind.”

Arthur opened his eyes, looking up at the long, stretching galaxies and the milky way. He spotted the Big Dipper. He thought about Dutch.

“Arthur?” said Mary Beth. “You fall asleep?”

He looked at her again. She was very pretty in her mild, freckled way. “No,” he said. “I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About Dutch,” he said. “And what you told me. How he said it was for them, when he killed Colm. You think—you think that could mean she was pregnant? Annabelle? When Colm killed her?”

Mary Beth curled up toward him, got closer so she could smell the smoke on his clothes. “Yeah,” she said.

Arthur took a very deep breath. “Jesus.”

“Poor Dutch,” she said, shaking her head. “Why wouldn’t he tell you? All those years ago?”

“My guess is he didn’t wanna talk about it. Talking about it, that makes it real. I never told no one about Isaac who didn’t already know, not until I told you a few weeks back, Mary Beth. That’s just…that’s just the way it is sometimes, you know?”

She nodded, seeming distant all of a sudden. “Yeah, I know.” she said. She went back to fussing with her hair, taking the plaits apart. “I’m sorry, Arthur.”

“For what?”

“For pressing you before. I trust you. I know you’ll tell me if something’s bad. I guess I was just feeling anxious, like you said.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I know it’s coming from a good place.”

She smiled.

They heard talking then, from the tent. They both turned to see but it was just Kieran, babbling something about horses, and raccoons, on and on in his sleep.

Arthur looked completely miffed. “Does he do that regularly?” he said.

“How would I know?”

“I don’t know,” said Arthur. “You seem to know a lot of stuff I don’t know.”

She laughed, looking up at the molten sky.

The next morning, Arthur was up early. His body was still stiff, but he was on his routine, heading out into the shallow wilderness, and he shot a couple rabbits for their breakfast. When he got back, it was just coming past dawn, and Mary Beth was still hard asleep in her bedroll, her hair flung to the pillow as a kind of masterpiece. He went down to the water a little ways. He sat on a heavy piece of driftwood and rolled a few cigarettes and tucked them into his pocket, and then he lit one and smoked as he began to skin and dress the rabbits for roasting. It was repetitive work, but it was satisfying. Arthur wasn’t really the kind of man who yearned for complexities in his daily life. He had enough going on inside his messed up brain, stuff he was only just coming to terms with in recent months. These sorts of quiet routines made him happy.

At some point, Kieran came down. He looked worse for the wear but also somehow better than he had the night before. The sleep had done him kindly.

“Morning,” said Arthur.

“Good morning, Arthur,” said Kieran. “Mind if I sit?”

“Of course not. How you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” said Kieran. He nodded, looking out at the water. It was kind of silvery. “My chest still feels like I ran into a damn elephant, but my head feels better.”

“Well that’s cracked ribs for you,” said Arthur. “I been there. You’re gonna need a month, at least, before that pain subsides completely. Just try to take it easy. You’ll be okay.”

“Thank you,” said Kieran.

They sat for a little while. Arthur finished up with the rabbits and stuck them onto a couple spits. He was thinking now about coffee.

“So,” said Kieran after a little while.

It was kind of loaded sounding, like he was meaning to get something off his chest. Arthur cleared his throat.

“You and Mary Beth,” Kieran went on, wringing his hands a little bit. “You guys are, uh…you’re getting married, huh?”

Arthur sighed. He took a couple mint leaves out his front pocket to chew on. He offered some to Kieran, but Kieran declined. “Yeah,” he said. “That, we are.”

Kieran nodded, shifting his weight, though this seemed to cause him pain. He bit it back. “Well, congratulations,” he said, drawing a little somber. “I mean, I knew you guys was close. I guess I didn’t know how close.”

Arthur shrugged, and then he looked right at him, squaring up. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Sorry for what?”

“Well, I’m not sure,” said Arthur, scratching his head. “I know—I know you was sweet on her. Or, at least it seemed that way.”

Kieran kind of laughed to himself. “Yeah. I mean, it wasn’t what you think. It ain’t hard to be sweet on Mary Beth.”

“I get that. I just—you know I didn’t intend to—when we went on that hunting trip. It surprised me, too.”

“Oh, I’m not surprised,” said Kieran.

Arthur looked up from his boots. “You ain’t?”

“Not at all,” said Kieran, oddly gracious. “I mean, Mary Beth is…she’s real nice to me. She was nice when not many folks was. I mean, you know how shocked I was to see Sadie, showing up guns blazing to save my ass?”

Arthur laughed. “Yeah, well, I hate to burst your bubble, but I think Mrs. Adler came more for the O’Driscoll blood than the rescue mission, but that’s just my interpretation.”

“Anyway,” said Kieran, glancing at his hands. They were bandaged around the palms. Colm had burned them. “Mary Beth is nice. She’s teaching me to read. She’s a good listener, and she gives me the time of day. Plus, she’s real pretty. And know I don’t mean no disrespect by it. It’s just true. But…I know she’s out of my league. I ain’t—she was always gonna go for someone more, well, someone more like you, Arthur.”

“Like me?” He spat the mint leaves into the sand. “How do you mean?”

“I mean, like, a hero,” he said. “Chivalrous-like, good with girls. Real in charge. Tall. Strong. Like the kind she reads about in her books.”

Arthur took a deep breath. “I ain’t no hero, son.”

“Well, you saved my life today.”

“And you saved mine,” said Arthur, “months ago. You didn’t know me but for a man who had hogtied you in the snow and let you stay tied to a tree for days. Starving, suffering, and still you saved my life. I regret my actions.”

“It’s okay, Arthur.”

“No,” said Arthur. “No it ain’t. I see things…different now, Kieran. Mary Beth, she has that effect, but it ain’t just her. She draws it out because she believes in me, but this…feeling. It was already there. I got strung up and tortured not too long ago, just like you, and by the same piece of shit no less. The way I see it, we’s equals. And I know that, because I got something to lose now, and that’s changed me. I ain’t a hero, but I am trying to be a better man than I was before. And in any case you desered rescuing from the O’Driscoll gang. You’re one of us now.”

Kieran was looking on, sort of speechless. “I—I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay,” said Arthur, lighting a cigarette, handing it to him. Kieran took it without question. “You don’t gotta say anything. We’re square now. You and me. Comrades, okay? I mean it. For once.”

Kieran didn’t smoke the cigarette. He just held it, like in solidarity. This, all of this seemed to make him tremendous with relief and joy. “I got it,” he said, bucking up. “Comrades.”

“Good,” said Arthur.

After a minute then, they got up to fix the rabbits on the fire. Kieran started making the coffee. Mary Beth was still sleeping, spectacularly so. It had been quite the ordeal, the night before, thought Arthur. She must have needed it.

“How old are you anyway?” said Arthur. “I’m just curious.”

“I’m twenty-one,” said Kieran.

“My word,” said Arthur.

“What’s that?”

“I just mean—you learn how to read, and then you need to get yourself out of this mess. You’d be a fine a ranch hand somewhere. You don’t need us.”

“It ain’t always about need, Arthur,” said Kieran, closing the cap on the percolator. “I don’t much like being alone.”

Arthur thought on this. It rang with him in an unsuspecting way.

“Where do you wanna get married?” said Kieran in another couple minutes. “In a church, maybe? In front of God and all?”

“Maybe,” said Arthur. “A church would be…good. Something like that would be real nice, I reckon. I ain’t never really been religious. But I think Mary Beth was raised Protestant.”

“Well, that sounds fine,” said Kieran.

Arthur cleared his throat then. He had begun to turn the rabbits over the fire. “Hey Kieran,” he said. He looked up at the early morning sky. It seemed filled with birds.

“Yeah?”

“You do a lot of good work with the animals around camp. That’s something I especially appreciate.”    

“I know.”

“Do you got a horse of your own?”

“No,” said Kieran. The coffee was just about done now. Somewhere nearby, there were the sounds of shuffling livestock, but you couldn’t see nothing. It must have been over the ridge. “I been saving though. Almost got enough.”

“Well, when we get back to Shady Belle, why don’t you keep Diana? At least for the time being, until you can afford a steed of your choosing.”

“Really?” said Kieran.

“Yeah,” said Arthur. “Why not. She’s clearly taken to you, and she ain’t the fastest, but she’s a good girl, real brave, and she deserves a good rider. She’ll serve you well.”

“Wow, I—but wait. I ain’t seen her since Rhodes. What if—what if something happened?”

“She’s fine,” said Arthur, waving him off. “She turned up at camp all by her lonesome. It’s what tipped us off you was in trouble.”

This seemed to bring him considerable relief. “Well, thank you, Arthur. That’s real generous of you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Mary Beth stirred then, in her bedroll nearby. The sun was up, and she must have smelled the coffee and heard the talking. She sat up, and she had a great big leaf in her hair. “Morning, y’all,” she said. “Is that coffee?”

Arthur smirked when he saw her. “Sure is. Good morning, sleepy head. You dream well?”

“I did,” she said. “The stars, they agree with me. Hey, Kieran.”

“Hey, Mary Beth,” he said. “You know, you got a big leaf in your hair.”

This surprised her. Arthur laughed to himself. “Oh,” she said, picking it out. “Thanks, Kieran.”

“Of course.”

“You should put it back,” said Arthur, still with that smirk. “I liked it there.”

“Yeah well, you would, Arthur Morgan.” She tossed the leaf into the sand.

When they got back to Shady Belle that afternoon, it was a comfortable scene. Many were sprawled out in the hot sun, taking naps, and Javier played his guitar down by the swamp’s edge while Karen sang. John and Abigail were out rocking on the front porch, a book shared between them. John was giving her some light lessons on reading.

“There you go,” he was saying. “You got it, Abbie.”

She blushed every time he encouraged her. “Oh, please,” she said. “I’m terrible.”

“You are not,” said John. “Just a little practice. That’s all you need. You’re doing great.”

She shoved him, playful. “Be quiet, John Marston.”

When Arthur and Mary Beth came up the yard with Kieran, they closed the book and came rushing. They were relieved to see everybody okay, but almost as if premeditated, Abigail had scooped up Mary Beth and drug her inside. “You’re telling me everything,” she said. Mary Beth was confused. In any case, she went along anyway, and the two of them were gone as quick as birds off the wire.

Meanwhile, Kieran was beat. Arthur eased him onto one of the old cots inside the mansion, the one where Mary Beth had used to sleep. Tilly came in, happy to see he was okay. She offered to keep a watch on him for a little while that afternoon. Pearson did as well. Hosea was sleeping in his room with all the windows open. Apparently, Miss. Grimshaw was on some sort of a tear with Dutch still at large. Most were eagerly looking to avoid her wrath.

With Kieran taken care of and the girls upstairs, Arthur and John went outside to the back porch to have a smoke. John seemed agitated.

“What’s with you?” said Arthur after a little while, lighting a cigarette from his pocket, handing it over to John. He then let one for himself. “And what’s with Abigail? Whisking Mary Beth off like that? Something going on?”

John took a quick drag, scratched at the scruff along his jawline. “Charles and Sadie stopped through this morning,” he said, “on their way into St. Denis. With Colm O’Driscoll’s dead body.”

“Yeah. Dutch killed him,” said Arthur. “Can you believe it? They’re going in for the bounty. Ought to be a nice little sum for us.”

“I guess,” said John.

Arthur took to eye-balling him then, trying to figure him through. “Something else on your mind, John?

“Yeah,” said John, huffing. “There is.”

“Okay.”

“Sadie said you was engaged,” he went on. “You and Mary Beth. You’re getting married?”

Arthur sighed, flicked the cigarette. It figured, that’s what Abigail was on about. “Sadie,” he muttered, surveying the lividity of the swamp, smoking.

“Jesus Christ,” John said, “were you gonna tell anyone?”

Arthur gave him a look. “Of course.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“It happened like five days ago,” said Arthur. “We was just keeping it between us, just for a little while. A couple can’t share a goddam moment between them? We gotta paint it on a banner, wave it all over town?”

“No,” said John. “But you could’ve...you could’ve told me. I’m happy for you. And I wanna...I wanna know things.”

“You wanna know things.”

“Yeah,” said John, almost growing defensive. But then he calmed down, nodded, looking out at the swamps with his chest puffed up. “Yeah. I do.”

Arthur smiled. “Well, ain’t that nice.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. But you gotta understand. It ain’t been a lot of quiet moments since we got back.”

“I know,” said John. “And…it’s okay. I just—congratulations, brother.”

“Thank you.”

They smoked. They listened to the haunted noises of the trees. It was windy.

“So,” said Arthur, adjusting his hat. “You teaching Abigail how to read?”

“I’m doing my best,” said John, shrugging. “I mean, I ain’t you. I don’t do…poetry. But I can hold my own. We’re reading Huckleberry Finn.”

Arthur nodded. “You know, I think you might like poetry, if you just gave it a shot.”

John looked at him, real earnest. “You think so?”

Arthur smiled, became serious. “It’s a real thoughtful thing, you teaching her to read. She appreciates it. Even if she don’t say so.”

John sighed, looked around, still seeming a little stressed by all this. This husband stuff, father stuff. “Well, I’m trying,” he said.

“You’re doing fine.”

“What about you?” said John. “How are you doing? Charles said there was some bad business with Colm. That he threatened Mary Beth?”

“Yeah, he did,” said Arthur. They could hear Jack now, like he’d just woke up, yelling for Abigail out front. “She’s okay.”

“Are you okay?” said John.

“I’m fine,” said Arthur. “A little banged up, nothing serious.”

“No, I mean—I mean with Mary Beth being in danger. I know how you get.”

“How I get?”

“Yeah,” said John. “You get worried. You’re a worrier, Arthur.”

“I am not,” said Arthur, knowing full well he was lying. “Anyway. It’s okay now. And I need to talk to Hosea about some things but then me and Mary Beth, we’re thinking of heading up north for a little while. Leaving tonight, for a couple weeks.”

“Up north?” said John. “Where to?”

“We got a place we’d like to visit, just the two of us, in the Roanoke Valley. But then we plan on swinging back down through Emerald Station to stay at a bed and breakfast there. You and Abigail and the boy, you should come meet us. In about ten days time. We could go fishing, shoot the shit a little. Relax.”

John was surprised, scuffed his boot across the porch wood. “Meet you in Emerald Station?”

“You don’t have to,” said Arthur. “But we know the people who run the place and they’re real nice. They know we’re outlaws and they don’t make no fuss so, that’s good. Anyway it was just a suggestion. I thought maybe you might wanna get them outta here, even just for a couple of days. We’re still planning on leaving, on that permanent basis we discussed, but I think Mary Beth would like to know that we are not leaving too much chaos in our wake. I’m not sure I agree. But I’m compromising, for the time being, as long as things stay quiet.”

John seemed to think on this, nodded. He looked around. Out by the water they saw Pearson with his bucket and his rod and reel. He was getting into the canoe there. “Yeah,” said John. “Maybe. That might be nice. Meeting you all.”

“Let me know,” said Arthur. “Talk to Abigail. Like I said, just meet us there in ten days—from tomorrow, if you do decide. Either way, I’ll mark the place for you on a map. It’s a big homestead with a lot of rooms.”

“Sounds real good,” said John.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Abigail holed them both up in Arthur’s room and was trying to get Mary Beth to tell her all about Arthur’s proposal. Mary Beth was distracted. She didn’t much feel like talking, but she was trying to humor Abigail. She liked Abigail very much. She was glad they were becoming better friends. She looked forward to a life in which they got to do this everyday, safely somewhere else, with the boys nearby and the air so clean—all of it so clean.

“He just…asked,” she said, shrugging. She sat down on the bed. She was taking her braids out and then putting them back in again. “Or, more like, he suggested. We was lying here, and tired, and it was the end of the day, and he said, ‘Marry me.’ It was romantic in a quiet sort of way, in his way. Arthur ain’t a man of grand gestures, and I appreciate that. I think—I think I been living my life for a long time on the fictional pretense of grand gestures. So much books and stories. And I love stories, but this felt real. It felt like it should feel. Like it’s made to last.” She sighed, shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m doing a bad job explaining.” She looked down at her boots.

“I think you’re explaining just fine,” said Abigail. “You got such a beautiful way with words. It’s beautiful. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks,” said Mary Beth, straightening the pillows. “That means a lot.”

“What’s the matter?” said Abigail, coming to sit next to her. The small bed creaked beneath their weight. “Ain’t you excited?”

“Of course,” said Mary Beth. “I love Arthur.”

“Then why you seem so glum?” said Abigail. “Mary Beth? Is it because of what happened? I heard it was bad. I heard it was Colm O’Driscoll back on his shit. Fuckin asshole. But he’s dead now. Old Dutch saw to that. You don’t have to be scared no more. You’re safe.”

Mary Beth smiled at this. She was playing with the hem of her skirt now where the threading was coming apart. “I know. I ain’t scared of no O’Driscolls, Abigail. He wasn’t even much to see. I been in tighter spots this very month.”

“What is it then?”

“I just—I got a lot on my mind.”

“You can tell me,” said Abigail. She scooped up her hands. She had such a warmth about her. You’d never know till you got close enough.

Mary Beth took a deep breath. She met Abigail eye to eye. “I’m running…kind of late,” she said.

“Late?”

“My period. It’s late.”

Abigail got quiet. She straightened up real good. She lowered her voice. “How late?”

“Like a week, maybe a little more? I just know it shoulda come by now.”

“How you feeling?”

“I feel fine,” said Mary Beth. “Why?”

But then, they heard Arthur. He was coming up the stairs, his familiar footsteps, and he opened the door. “Mary Beth?”

“Hey,” she said, smiling, teeth and all.

“You almost ready, baby doll? We should ride if we’re gonna make it past the marshes by dark. Otherwise I wanna wait till morning.”

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll just—I’ll be one minute.”

“Okay,” he said, looking bright. “Hey, Abigail.”

“Hey, Arthur.”

He smiled then and went away and closed the door behind him.

Mary Beth sat very still. Abigail was blushing. “Baby doll,” she said, mimicking his deep voice. “That’s your baby’s daddy, Mary Beth. Boy oh boy he loves you. Old sad eyes Arthur Morgan. I never seen him so goddam happy.”

Mary Beth nudged her. “Shh,” she said, her stomach doing backflips.

“When are you gonna tell him?” said Abigail.

By now, Mary Beth’s hem had come completely loose. She’d have to resew it by hand. She took a deep breath, nervous for some reason she could not put her finger on. It wasn’t the possibility of the baby making her nervous. It was something adjacent to the baby, but it wasn’t the baby. What was it? “Not till I know for sure,” she said.

It brought the whole world down into perspective for Mary Beth. Very, very fast.

[serahsanguine]

What’s Left Unsaid, Says It All Pt.5

What's Left Unsaid, Says it all part 5/?

Rating; NC-17, NSFW

This Story can be found at  Ao3

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 

Tagging; @peacenik0  @today-in-fic

p.s. if you would like updates and be tagged please let me know :) 

p.p.s word to the wise this is a really, really long chapter all together this chapter came to 11292 words altogether. which is the longest thing I have ever written.

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Chapter 5; Journal.

Notes; This chapter will be journal style (dear diary) layout, but within the moment flashbacks, so we get both sides of the story as well as thoughts and feelings. 

Dear Dairy

                  A week has passed since I got back from the hospital, things have been going well. Missy has been here the whole time, she made my spare bedroom into her own for now and for the foreseeable future. She has got her crystals, her rugs, and plenty of clothes. I think at this point she has more clothes than I do. She’s worried about me, but she needn’t be... I’m fine. I have rested well, she has taken good care of me. When Melissa first proposed the idea of sharing my apartment with her, I thought she was mad, yes we were close as sisters but we hadn't lived together since we were kids, a time when we would fight all time; be under each other feet as they say. I have actually come to enjoy her presence, she makes me feel less lonely. For which I am thankful for, especially with me starting to pull away from Mulder much to both his and Missy dismay. Melissa thinks I should tell him about the twins, but I just simply can’t for my own personal reasons, of which she knows, and also doesn't agree with. I hope Mulder thinks I’m pulling away because I got hurt on a case, well two cases as of this date, he also probably thinks I blame him for my misfortune, how wrong he is about that. I love him so much, for the two little lives that now growing inside me. Not just because of that though but because he courageous, loving, compassionate, humble, and so many more wonderful things. Yes, he can be stubborn and arrogant but that is just who it is it's a part of him nothing more, nothing less and I love him all the same. I can be myself around him, no fear of judgment, or reprieve. He sees me for who I am and not for who I pretend to be. But with all of that said, I have known that what I am doing to him, is going to hurt more than anything he has felt before, including the loss of his little sister. That kind of grief and not knowing, the pain and remorse, that is the kind of pain that’s going to tear him apart. I wish when the time comes he knows how sorry I am and how much pain this is also going to cause me, too. I know he probably won’t ever forgive me but it has to be done.

     Yours faithfully Dana.

　

Dear diary.

       It’s now the end of August and I’m 22 weeks along, a lot has happened in the past three weeks since I last wrote in you. I don’t know where to start, well logically the beginning would help, wouldn’t it?

Week One:

I started back at work, it was a relief and worrisome at the same time, Monday started out of really good, I arrived at work full of joy at finally getting out of that small apartment and back to normality or something close, at least. I walked into the X-Files basement office, somewhat nervously but Mulder looked pleased to see me, and in all honesty... I was starting to miss him, I know I shouldn’t, I know it's wrong. I need to distance myself from him or that is what my rational mind kept telling me at the time. But in that moment my heart won, I enjoyed it and reveled in it for that tiny fleeting second and I was happy with him, to be near him, together... with him. Anyway, I sat down at the desk, we talked about my time off, we laughed at how evidently there were pencils in his ceiling because he was bored. It very quickly became time to get down to the nitty-gritty aspect of our new case, and oh the joy... I’m barely back five minutes and we have another case. I made Mulder laugh with that comment.

I had missed his smile, the way his eyes would light up and instead of a frown line small smile lines would appear on his face, my feelings have become more of a need and showing themselves at the worst possible times, during the day, that I could have those types of feelings. He told me about the case, and how it started out years ago when he worked for the Violent Crimes Section (VCS), Mulder carried on with his story but the main point, I gathered, was that he was young and green, that he had hesitated a minute too long to take the perp out because there were hostages and for this sad mistake on his part the perp, John Barnett was his name, shot two agents because he got trigger happy one day and killed seven people. Mulder told me at the time he didn't need my assistance as he and I both knew I needed to take it easier as suggested by my friend and Doctor, Rachel Richards. And at the time I wanted to protect him and be his partner, that was my job after all, but evidently, he was right. What he neglected to tell me at the time which I found out later is that his old boss said he was coming after him, and that's the real reason he didn't want me there. To protect me.

I spent the rest of the week, mulling over what I had missed when I was at home, taking it easy and relaxing, which wasn’t a lot. I wasn’t really surprised, because he did come and visit me loads when I was at home. The rest of the week passed by uneventfully... Missy cooked, I told her it wasn’t necessary but she kept insisting that just eating junk food every day was not healthy for anyone and I didn't want to hurt the twins.

On Thursday, Mom came to visit... checking up on me (and probably making sure Missy and I hadn't killed each other yet), we sat her down together and told her I had spent time in hospital recently but not the reason behind it or any of the gory details behind the case and left it at that. Missy as per usual made the snide comment that I should tell her and if looks could kill I would most definitely be dead five times over. Mom stayed and cooked us a meal, caught me up on what's been going on at our local Church. Missy wasn’t really interested in Church ever since she became a Wiccan, I didn't really care about her beliefs but I listened anyway. It turned out there was a man that my Mother was trying to set me up with but I very politely declined, telling her I wasn't interested in a relationship right now, that my work was very important to me at this time in my life. It was only a half lie.

By the time I had finally started to feel comfortable in my apartment, doing absolutely nothing but taking care of myself and the twins, it was suddenly Friday. Mulder had just got back from the case and it was getting late, we were both sitting in that little basement office we both had come to feel more at home in, he filled me in on the details of what had transpired and how a female agent, got shot and how John Barnett grabbed another hostage bating Mulder into making another terrible mistake. Barnett had a gun to her head and he watched on as she pleaded for her life, and that's when Mulder told me that he pulled the trigger and explained how Barnett eyes glazed over and he fell slowly to the floor, they rushed him to hospital and all I kept thinking was what if I was that female agent? Would I have survived such an attack? Mulder finished his story and I asked what was going to happen now, he told me about the hospital flying in a surgical specialist to save his life, but he flatlined on the table. He was kind enough to take me home that night and boy, thinking back now that was the wrong move. I knew Missy was at our parent's housekeeping Mom company because she no longer had Dad around. I invited him in and he moved to the couch, again I don’t know what I was thinking, it seems so ludicrous now when I think back on it, iI was meant to be pulling away not inviting him into my apartment... just the two of us, alone. At first we were just talking and thinking about work, throwing ideas and theories about Bigfoot and then he kissed me out of the blue his warm, soft pouty lips touched mine and it felt incredible (I didn't realize how badly I wanted them on me all of the time), so succulent and so luscious and tasting of strawberries and damn I just couldn't help myself, my mind screaming inside my skull to stop... to end it now, before it went too far. I kissed him back our tongues slipped and slid against each exploring each other's mouths, the feeling was unbelievably sensual and it sent desire between my legs. I got caught up in the moment, I suppose. And then he started running his hand down my arm, working the buttons on my shirt but that was when it hit me my brain finally caught up with what was happening and I pulled away so abruptly, how could I let this happen? We shouldn't be doing this! We really shouldn't be doing this! Kept running through my mind over and over again. This had to stop, I had to make it stop right now, before he found out that I was keeping him from his children. I told him, very loudly to get out, go get out and he did, slamming the door behind him. I collapsed onto the couch, in tears, caressing my growing belly and apologizing to the twins.

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Flashback

Mulder was walking to his car after just being thrown out of Scully’s apartment, they weren't really a couple yet but somehow had stumbled into their very first fight (and he didn't know how), the rain falling on his face rivulets dripping from the tip of his nose into the water puddles as he stepped off the concrete curb and onto the gravel road.

His mind revelling in what had just happened between them, as he got into the car watching as the rain hit the windscreen pitter patter against metal and glass like steel drums in an Orchestra, as he stared out and thought to himself...

I kissed her! What the fuck was I thinking? Shit, Shit, Shit... what have I just done? I didn’t mean to, God I'm such an idiot, but Scully was so beautiful. These days she had an undeniable glow about her that I can’t quite put my finger on but the glow suits her so much, I couldn’t help but kiss her. I was caught up in the moment and I thought she wanted it too. I know she did, I could see it in her eyes, those eyes. Damn, she even kissed me back! Her beautiful lips so red and ready for the taking so full and soft her skin beautiful with her freckles poking through her light makeup like little star constellations in the night sky.

She ran her hand through my hair and let me trail my hand up her arm to the crook of her soft, lithe neck. I mean, fuck... she even deepened the kiss, causing me to start undoing the buttons of her shirt, but only because I had missed her so much. SO DAMN MUCH! Her love, compassion and strength.

She kept me where I belong,

I loved her so much, not that I would ever tell her that, she would probably run a mile in a heartbeat if she knew how I really felt about her, and us. And now I know my feelings aren't reciprocated because she pulled away from me and threw me out without a second thought, here I sit now as the fall falls outside the window i can feel the warm tears fall down my cold face. I am such a fucking fool, I pledged to myself to never fall in love with another co-worker again, not after Diana, but I guess history was meant to repeat itself because I find myself loving Scully with everything I have and am and damn it hurts, it hurts so damn much that I can barely keep from losing myself in the darkness. I need to get out of my head... I need a drink, a long hard stiff drink. I need to forget.

I need to stop loving her. I need, I need... fuck what do I need and who am I kidding? You can’t just stop and forget and not love someone like Dana Katherine Scully. She's unforgettable.

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     I instantly rang Missy, I needed her and within thirty minutes she was here for me and the twins. I bet she broke every speed limit to get to me but I know she would do anything for me. She opened the door and ran to me, as she hugged me my knees gave way beneath me and we both crumbled to the floor, I cried for hours in her arms and she let me. It's all a bit of a blur now when I think about it, I remember telling Missy what I had done, through my breathless sobs. I told her that I tried not to love him, tried hating him with every fiber of my being but I just couldn’t do it. How could I possibly hate someone who gave me the most precious gift anybody could offer another person. She sat silently with me, saying nothing but held me as tight as she could without hurting me (and the babies) as I just sat there pressed to her warm chest and cried for hours. When I composed myself and got up, I expected her to shout or scream but she stayed silent, thoughtful even. She must have sensed how much he meant to me and how the next few months were going to affect me. Missy took me to bed, undressed me and she slid into the bed next to me and hugged me like we did when we were kids. She has always had such a soothing presence, and soul. My big sister. I make a note to tell her how much I love her in the morning.

The weekend passed like a blur, I don't really remember much apart from staying in my bedroom and crying more than I thought physically possible. I was a mess but Missy stayed with me through it all, guiding me back to life and keeping me from falling off the edge of a cliff and into a bottomless abyss. It looked so welcoming, I was almost mad at her endless ability to never give up. She has always been the more positive of the whole Scully clan, except maybe for Mom.

Monday:

The start of a new week arrived sooner than expected and I was apprehensive about the day ahead of me. Mulder hadn't called all weekend, I honestly didn't know how I was going to react to him or the way he would react to me, for that matter. To say I was incredibly nervous and ashamed was a gross understatement. When I walked into the office, things were different... there was a tension between the two of us, it was suffocating. Anyone who came down to deliver a file would be able to feel it as soon as the door swung open to let them enter. As the day passed he would talk to me like it was any other normal day in the office but his body language was off, like a man who was confused and conflicted, hurt and broken. Who could blame him for feeling such things? After the way, I treated him last week, when all he wanted was to show me that he cared. The hours ticked by unbelievably slowly only occasionally punctuated by small talk, and I could tell there was a strain on our relationship now, a strain I never wanted but didn't know how to avoid, he was pulling away from me... maybe it for the best, but boy did it hurt. It hurt more than I ever thought it would. It hurt deep down in my soul, and I hoped that the twins couldn't feel it in their warm, cosy home they were building inside my womb.

Tuesday:

Where do I begin? So much happened. I wasn't in the office that morning because I had a doctors appointment, at just over 22 weeks pregnant it was time for the often terrifying anomaly scan. I didn't want there to be anything wrong with my babies, not that I would love them any less if there was. I would always love them more than life itself, regardless. They were my whole world now, and I would do everything in my power to keep them safe.

Missy took me to the appointment; I think she was more excited than I was, I didn't think that was even possible but it was... I was just so nervous about seeing my babies again, seeing their tiny bodies and hearing their heartbeats, not in unison but as a one two count, like the pulse of a planet around its star. It was music to my ears, every single time I heard it. My heart beat furiously in my chest, sweat was forming on the palms of my hands. I think Missy could sense my nervousness and concern for their wellbeing. She looked at me and smiled, reassuringly. I would never be able to repay her for the calmness she brought to our lives during these hard times.

As Rachel called us unto the exam room, Missy grabbed my hand and interlocked our fingers, squeezing gently for reassurance with a small gentle smile on her lips and in that moment, I knew everything was going to be OK. Stepping into the room, I carefully laid on the hospital bed... it was cold and uncomfortable.

Missy sat beside me, while Rachel sat down in her rolling office chair; she already had my medical records on the computer screen and she grabbed some of the jelly, squirting it onto my bare stomach. It was slightly warmer this time but still cold and sticky. I think I would always hate the stuff because it got all over my clean clothes, and increases but let's not go there.

Minutes passed by as Dr Richards probed my abdomen with her wand, searching for the twins. She found my brave, sweet little boy first and made a comment about it still being a little boy which caused all three of us to laugh. It took another twenty minutes for her to do the anomaly scan and as far as she was concerned everything appeared to be A-OK. She found my strong, independent little girl next and again everything checked out just fine.

Rachel hit some kind of button combination on the keyboard in front of her and suddenly the empty room, filled with my little girl's heartbeat, with the perfect rate of a healthy growing baby, it bounced and echoed off of the four walls. Missy eyes went wide and I began to cry immediately. It was a mixture of delight and relief, I worry before every appointment that I won't hear those sounds, hearing it again makes me believe in miracles. It was so beautiful, the feeling of joy overwhelmed me. She moved the wand to the position she knew the little boy was and it looked like he was playing kick about with his slightly bigger sister and we got to hear his heartbeat too, in the quiet empty space between hers. I did worry very briefly about his smaller size, but logically as a Doctor, I knew one twin was almost always bigger than the other, receiving more of the nutrients.

Missy commented that it sounded like water sloshing in a bucket - maybe even alien like, she also said it sounded amazing and pretty cool. At the time the comment made me smile, and laugh but now I think about it just makes me want to cry. If Mulder was there in that room with me it would have been something he had said with a wicked grin and knowing that makes me want to cry for days, maybe even months. I’m starting to question why I am doing this and if I'm doing the right thing, but then one of them would kick or move around inside of me and all of the self-doubts would dissipate in that very instant. They brought me back from the brink more than I care to admit, made me want to be stronger for them and myself.

Wednesday:

It was full of pain and anger. Mulder had gotten called upstairs for a meeting with the FBI higher-ups, apparently, they didn't like how he dealt with the last case, but let's face it... what's new there? They're never happy with our work. It's so frustrating, sometimes. He became snappy towards me after that meeting, like he focused all of his anger, pain, and betrayal on me and only me. By the end of the day I was getting fed up with him, so I started giving as good as I got and after a solid thirty minutes of us bickering back and forth, a strange electric sticky atmosphere starting lingering in the office like a bad smell and then that's where I left it for the day. I was so fed up with Mulder, this mess and life in general. So I went home to soak my horrible day away in the bathtub. Just me, the twins and the smell of jasmine and vanilla candles. Complete silence. It was amazing.

Thursday:

Was unexpected, to say the least, let's just say I need to be more careful now, wait you don't even know what I am on about. Let me explain; I had gone out to lunch because I really needed to get away from Mulder, he was still acting like an ass so I left without so much as a goodbye but what I hadn’t noticed was my ultrasound photo had fallen out of my work bag and was laying on the floor, face up for all too see and ooohhh boy what happened next was… well, I don’t know how to put it. How do you deny the existence of something, when the proof of said something is grasped in your hand?

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Flashback

Mulder was sitting at his desk staring at his blue computer screen, he was meant to be typing up a field report or something along those lines, for a case. Scully had just left, the tension between them amplified by the events of the past couple of days; it was hot, electric, unforgettable and full of sexual tension, pheromones, and raging hormones. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but it was definitely there and it was confusing as hell, given everything that had transpired lately. He spun around on his chair like a kid not being able to focus on anything, trying to clear his head and thinking what he could pass the time doing before Scully got back from her lunch break. As he spun around again, he noticed something shiny catch the corner of his eye, he thought he imagined it so he spun one more time but it was still there. So he stopped spinning not feeling the slightest bit dizzy, he stared at that spot before curiosity got the better of him, stood up quickly and started to walk over to see what this thing was, as he moved closer to it he could tell it was a kind of Polaroid photo or looked about the right shape and size for one at least.

He bent down picking this photo up and staring at with such intensity (his eyes almost hurt), he realised it was an ultrasound photo but he hadn't seen one of them in a very long time, not since his mother and father had shown him of a blurry version of baby Samantha. Running his fingers over the gloss and then the edge of the photo, he realised it was not one but two photos that were folded perfectly flat together. He used his fingertip to pull along the crease unfolding the second, underneath the other, looking at the first photo it was misprinted, missing the name of the mother of who it belonged to. Did they fall out of a file? Mulder wondered and kept reading, the first thing he noticed was a string of numbers of what he assumed with the medical patient ID number, it read 'twin A GA=21w2d'. Mulder read some other information on the grainy images, not really understanding it but the date popped out at him - 21/08/1993 10:53 AM. He looked at the second photo as the information absorbed into his brain, again the first line was missing at the top of the photograph but it read 'twin B GA= 21w2d' the date was the exact same but the timestamp read 11:23 AM. So many thoughts were running through his head. Whose ultrasound photo was this? Is this Scully’s? Wait, she wasn’t here Tuesday morning! Is she pregnant? No, she can’t be she would of told me... wouldn’t she? It can't be possible, we used protection! It can't be ours can it? His mind in overdrive, thoughts piling up like X- File cases on his desk, he stood there just staring at the photos in his hands, losing all track of time, when suddenly Scully walked in.

Scully stood there, staring at the man in front of her with two photos in his hand and all she could think was shit! She stood there, in quiet fear, watching Mulder’s facial expressions changing as his thought process ran through the possibilities over and over again. She had to think quick, needed a way out.. a way to explain herself and the photos.

"Mulder" Scully's voice wavered, very briefly before she steeled herself against his questions and possible accusations.

"I’m sorry, Scully... it's really none of my business"

"It’s not mine" Scully quickly added with determination and authority hoping and praying against everything that Mulder would believe her bold face lies.

"I didn’t think it was, you... you would have told me. I know that" Mulder said, more a statement than anything, and walked over to her, placing the photos in her hands before sitting back down at his desk.

Scully walked over placed the photos in her work bag, sitting opposite him before speaking "It’s my friends, I haven’t seen her in a while and she wanted my medical opinion on the photos you that you just saw, she was checking everything was alright and that the doctors weren't lying to her. I'm sorry if you got scared, unnecessarily"

Mulder took a long pause looking at Scully directly in the eye "Oh, OK... and is it?"

"Yes, everything looks fine"

"So this friend of yours I take it she having twins? That's so huge and amazing!"

"Yes. it is, she's very happy. I'm very happy for her. I don't think she ever thought it was something she would get a chance to do"

"That's great. Do you know if they are identical or fraternal?"

"Identical"

"That's so nice! I'm happy for your friend too, Scully. I don’t quite know how she is going to manage but I imagine that she is strong and capable like you. I don't know if could find the time for kids, especially with work" Mulder said, honesty. It was raw emotion, he didn't usually let this side of him out very often but when he did he meant every word he said and she knew it. It was the final nail in the coffin of her decision to keep this information from him, she didn't need to be told a third time how unprepared or unwilling he was to allow kids into his chaotic life.

"It is nice, marvellous in fact. I’m sure she will be fine, she's strong then she looks. I truly believe that"

"She sounds nice. Is the father involved?"

"No" Scully snapped, not meaning to her emotions just got the better of her in that moment. Mulder gave her a questioning eyebrow and she looked down at her hands. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be so rude about it, it's just very personal to her and not my place, you understand. She's nice... I think you would like her"

"Would I? Does she live in the DC area?"

"No, no actually she flies back home to San Francisco tomorrow. I wish you could of meet her"

"It’s quite alright. Maybe when she brings the little ones for a visit to see their aunt Scully, huh? Shall we get back to work?"

"Maybe. I don't know how likely that is. Yes, please" she looked at him again and started secretly having a conversation with him, but without him even knowing what was really said.

Mulder looked back at the computer screen, he could not stop thinking about those photos he held in his hand. What if they were Scully’s? What if they were his children? Do I even want children right now? He sat there, deep in thought, when the answer finally came; Yes! He would want kids with Scully. The idea of little uber Scully's running around was unbelievably amazing and he would give them everything he never had as a child. All the love in the world if he could, he thought long and hard about it, it was a nice idea but never gonna happen because Scully would never lie to him, right? He pushed all thoughts of family out of his mind.

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      Friday Came and went and the weekend was much the same, nothing important happened. Which leaves me with this past week full of highs and mostly lows, I arrived at work Monday morning, dreading the time spent in that small office. Everything seemed to be going wrong for me that day, my stomach had ballooned overnight it felt like, I wasn't surprised but I was kind of in shock. My work shirt no longer fit properly (the lower buttons refusing to go into their connecting holes), my waistline has also widened considerably and I haven't bought any maternity wear yet. The tight material of my regular clothing wouldn't budge an inch to cover the bump that had started to develop.

I ended up going to work in a black turtleneck sweater and casual black trousers being held up with a hair tie around the button and the buttonhole. Luckily, it was kind of cold that day as autumn was starting to make itself known. On the way to work my car broke down but I managed to phone a repair service who got me started back up and running, of course, that made me two hours late and Mulder was less the impressed.

The day had passed so slowly, with Mulder complaining about everything and anything he could think of, it felt almost intentional. It got to the point that I was ready to cry or throw something at him and tell him to get his damn head out of his ass but I kept quiet. Every now and again I caught him looking at me, with his big hazel eyes (that mysterious mixture of green, blue and brown) at first I saw sadness, hurt and resentment, but I looked deeper and saw something I wasn’t expecting I see... love. I saw a deep-seated and overwhelming heartbreaking kind of love, the kind of love that made me think if I traveled to the other side of the world he would follow me, that if the world was ending he would be by my side (and shit, I actually think I would ask him). The sort of love you only see in movies, because how can something that pure and unaffected exist in the real world? I know from my own personal romantic history, that people usually ruin that kind of connection, either through fear or a misunderstanding.

I got up after I realised this new piece of information, grabbing my bag and running to the nearest restroom. I locked myself inside a cubicle, not caring who was around me and sat down on the toilet seat lid searching and rummaging through my work bag looking for the photos of my babies, tears started streaming down my face stinging my eyes with the pain of them. Why did he have to look at me this way? Why today? I felt like I was drowning unable to stay afloat, the emotion and my damn pregnancy hormones made such an awful combination. Fuck, it was the worst feeling in the world. When I finally pulled myself together and told myself to get a grip, I wiped my eyes and walked out with my head held high, walking back into the X-files office Mulder gave me a small smile but said nothing, so I just sat down and carried on working. I think he could tell I had been crying and didn't want to upset me more, he could always tell when I wasn't in the mood for his jokes or prying questions. It was one of the reasons I loved him, no one else had ever known that well.

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Flashback

Scully had just walked in, I could tell she had been crying. I don't know why or what happened. She's been pulling away from me as of late. She's stopped talking to me confiding in me and just keeping everything bottled up. It fucking hurts. I don't know why she is doing this to herself, or us. I thought we were headed somewhere good, but everything crashed back down to reality... when I tried to kiss her the other night.

I wasn't expecting her to pull away from me, it made me angry and confused initially but I soon came to realise that it hurt so much more than I even dare to admit to myself. I look at her now, sitting in front of me and I can see she is hiding something from me, but there seems something more like it's not just me she is hiding from but is hiding something from herself as well.

I don't know why she is closing herself off like this, were growing apart and it scares me to death. The idea that I could lose the best thing that has happened to me in my miserable life. I wish she would talk to me or at least go back to the way we were. I would take friendly co-workers over a potential ruined relationship, if it meant I could keep her in my life. But something is going to give because at the moment it feels like I am living in my own damnation or possibly it's karma biting me on the ass, maybe I deserve it. I’m going to look away from her and talk about the case, like nothing ever happened. We're good at ignoring the problem at hand.

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Tuesday:

Mulder started speaking to me a little more, though I could tell he was still distancing himself from me. It was hard to deal with but it was for the best and saved me from doing it on my own. It was mutual, like everything we did, even if he had no idea why it was happening.

Wednesday was full of similar cordial but distant FBI partner discussions and work.

After I got home from work that night, something was completely different about the apartment, something I wasn't expecting. Unbeknownst to me at the time, Missy had asked Rachel to come over and surprise me with a little get together to try and cheer me up. It was her only day off and she chose to share it with me, I felt so honoured (we hadn't really spent much time together since left my Medical career behind and joined the FBI three years ago). I told Missy there was no need to do this for me, but as usual she didn't listen and I was thankful for once she knew what I needed, there were two women in my life willing to stand by me, putting a hold on their own lives to pamper me and make sure I wasn't alone in the decision I had made to keep this from Mulder.

Over the next few hours, we just sat around drinking and relaxing on the couch together. It was non-alcoholic, sparkling apple cider for me while Rachel and Missy share a bottle of red merlot between them. We were each wearing a green face mask and casual clothes. I was wearing a new baggy sweater and navy blue leggings, my sister was in her pyjamas and Rachel was wearing some light grey jeans and a yellow and black striped t-shirt.

We laughed and let loose, all needing the release it turned out. I couldn't stop smiling, I felt so loved, wanted and free. One of the twins (I wasn't sure which one but Rachel seems sure it was the girl based on the placement she remembered from the ultrasound footage) kicked that night and I remember grabbing Missy's hand as fast as I could and placing it on my lower abdomen. She had been wanting to feel one of them kick since I told her I was pregnant but kept missing the special moments over the next few weeks. That night she felt it, a full-blown punch and or kick and her face lit up, like a kid in a candy store for the first time. She was ecstatic and witnessing this between my babies and their aunt was the most beautiful thing to see... the joy and pure amazement on Missy's face is something I will never forget and always treasure.

When I woke up Thursday morning I felt rejuvenated, like a new person as they say.

Mulder and I got straight down to business and talked about a new case. I wasn’t very happy about how this information came about. Why? I hear you ask, well because it was from his ‘informant’, whom I have still yet to meet and do not trust.

The case was about a possible encounter between a long haul trucker and a UFO in Tennessee; which could possibly mean flying out of state and I hate flying. It also wasn't going to be a fun trip in my current predicament as my feet would begin to swell and it would be uncomfortable being in such close proximity to Mulder, on a plane where I couldn't escape, he was bound to suspect something.

Today (which is Friday), Mulder and I spent most of the morning putting the final details in place, for example, which motel we were going to stay at, plane tickets and our car rental.

I left early, just after lunchtime because I was feeling noticeably huge and tired.

Missy keeps telling me I'm tiny and that my bump is barely noticeable (that you would actually have to know I was pregnant for your attention to be drawn to my stomach) but I don't believe her, especially looking at myself in a mirror.

She just doesn't understand I suppose, as she isn't the one carrying two little beans inside her like I am.

Mulder also said he had planned this evening which is nice, it would be good for him to get out of that small basement office for a while to meet and socialise with someone other than me.

Missy also went out for the night, meeting up with some friends. She deserves the break for all that she has done for me lately and it means that I get some time alone for a little while, and it also means I can write in you.

I can't tell her how I'm truly feeling about everything right now. I feel like it's something I need to keep to myself until absolutely necessary, otherwise, she will only worry and I don't want to burden her any more than I already have.

      Yours faithfully Dana

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Meanwhile at apartment 42

Friday night

Mulder was sitting on his brown leather sofa watching the ESPN highlights with the volume muted, not really paying attention to the flickering images in front of him.

He was too busy thinking deeply about the fact that he had lied to Scully when he had told her that he was going out with some friends, it was becoming way too easy to lie to her like that easily and the worst bit about it was she believed him.

There was a knock at the door that gently brought him out of his reverie. He walked over and opened his door, not bothering to look who it was, so he was a bit surprised to find a tall red headed woman standing there a little nervous.

"Hi, Fox. Umm… I was in the neighbourhood and thought I would stop by. May I come in? I think we should talk."

"Melissa. Hi. Yeah, of course, you can. Ignore the mess... I wasn't expecting guests. I'm sorry"

"No. I'm sorry for stopping by without warning" Melissa gave Mulder a soft smile as she walked into his apartment, looking around. There were dishes piled up in the sink, the small desk near the window was covered in files and papers as far as the eye could see. There was a small, old TV in front of the brown leather sofa.

She noticed dirty clothes flowing out of the washbasket near the door to the hallway and chuckled to herself when she realised she could definitely tell it was a bachelors apartment, in all honesty, she thought it looked like a frat boys dorm room but made no comment when she sat down on the sofa.

Mulder walked over to where the TV remote was sitting and turned it off before looking over at Melissa and asking "Is it about Scully? Is she alright... has something happened to her?"

"No. Dana’s fine" of course Mulder first thought would be of her sister "She’s just been having trouble since the Willis case. Which I think you would agree is understandable, based on the fact that they were a couple for a while. It's just really shaken her and I don't think she anticipated the feelings it would bring up"

"Yes, I understand. I just hope will she be OK"

"She'll be fine, it’s just going to take her some time. I actually came to see how you were doing after Dana’s hospital stay. You seemed worried"

"I’m fine. It was just a bit of a shock. I know that she's OK now" Mulder said, defensively.

"Fox, please... don't lie to me. I can tell you not fine. Really, how are doing?" stressing the word HOW to try and get her point across to him.

"Melissa I…." Mulder tried to think of something to say, keeping his eyes focused on anything but Melissa in fear of breaking in front of Scully’s sister.

"I’m not going to push but I'm here if you need to talk about it or anything, in fact, I’m here as a friend... there will be no judgment from me, I promise"

"Thank you, Melissa"

"It's my pleasure. Please, call me Missy. We're friends now" she said laughing and giving him a wide, friendly smile.

"OK, Missy. In that case, you can call me Mulder now"

"Nope, not a chance, I like calling you Fox. It is your name after all and I think it suits you" Missy said, still with a smile on her face and trying to keep herself from laughing more.

"Fine" That was it, they both fell into a fit of laughter.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I bought a six pack of beer but left it down in my car in case you weren't in... or would let me in"

"Why wouldn't I let you in? You’re Scully’s sister"

"I just thought... but you're right. I will be back in five minutes, just going to run back down to the car and get them and then we can talk about anything you want" said Missy, as she rushed downstairs to grab the beer from her car.

A couple of hours later, the beer had been consumed. They had split the six bottles, three each. Mulder had down his just a little too quickly, while Missy was making her final bottle last.

Mulder wasn't used to having friends over (usually preferring to drink alone) and it soon became apparent that he did indeed call Missy a friend. They laughed and talked about Scully and her childhood... they talked about everything and anything. He was actually enjoying himself, forgetting at least for a little while about his problems, that was until he let his mind wander back to present day Scully, if she was really OK and why she had been pulling away from him the last few weeks.

"I miss Dana" Mulder blurted out, he was slightly tipsy maybe even full blown drunk at this point and thinking about her, his brain just couldn’t catch up with what he had said.

"I know you do, Fox. I can tell you she misses you too. I hope that helps... a little"

"I know you mean well... but it doesn't. Do YOU know what I've done wrong? What did I do to upset her? Or did I do something that made her angry? I just don’t know why she's pulling away from me now, when everything was going so well between us. I know you say it's the Jack Willis case that is taking a toll on her but it feels like more, like it's me. Like me, existence in her life is the problem. Missy, I need to know... did something else happen? Did I do something? I want to fix it before it's too late"

Shit, thought Missy. She had to be very careful in choosing her words right now, so that she didn't accidentally give anything away but damn this was hard, all she really wanted to do was tell him everything about the twins and about why Dana was closing herself off to him.

Missy knew if she did that Dana might never forgive her. would she do it anyway? Without help. She is, after all, a Scully woman stubborn to the bone.

"You didn’t do anything, I promise. She's just got a lot going on at the moment, has to work through some stuff on her own and then she will be her old self again. Stronger even. She cares about you a lot, don’t ever forget that... OK? Just give her this time"

"I love her," Mulder said, before retreating back into himself and locking his emotions away again.

The room fell silent as the words hung in the air; Missy couldn’t think of anything to say to allay his fears any more than she had. She could see Mulder’s eyes begin to fill with unshed tears. Why did the situation have to be so damn hard on everyone? Why couldn’t Dana just say how she really feels? She thought about what she should say next, or what to do next as she got a little closer to him and gave him a hug, hoping to steer him into a more lightweight conversation, she succeeded and they talked about sport, aliens and even Scully some more; his favourite subject.

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Dear Diary

      I haven’t had time to write in you, during the last couple of weeks. I can't believe it... time has been flying by. I’m now 26 weeks and bigger than ever. I didn’t feel like I needed to write in, to be honest life was good, Mulder and I have been really good or so I thought but I will get to that in a little bit.

We have had a couple of weird cases as of late and with that in mind. I'd like to tell you about some friends of Mulder's I met... the Lone Gunman. What an experience that was!

Their names are Richard ‘Ringo’ Langly, Melvin Frohike, and John Fitzgerald Byers.

Langly is tall with long blonde hair and wore a t-shirt with his favourite band on, The Ramones. Frohike is short with dark hair, personally he gives me the creeps but I think that to do with him having the hots for me, which is a little bit "eww" for my taste and then there is Byers, loves his suits apparently and was also taller than me and had brown hair with a brown goatee beard which I think looks good on him.

I don't think you could find three people more suited to be friends, and friends of Mulder's if I were being completely honest. The fact that they were hackers and had helped Mulder out of sticky situations, it was nice to finally meet them.

Anyway, what you really want to know is... what happened today, right? Oh god, where do I start? So, I was pottering about my apartment doing laundry, cleaning dishes etc.

Missy had gone over to Mom’s again because we both needed a break, we were starting to get underneath each other's skin and feet a little bit. I had just sat down on the sofa wrapped up in a warm, cosy blanket and just about to relax after all the housework I had done when there was a knock at the door. I grunted and muttered some inappropriate language under my breath as I stood up; my back, feet and ankles were swollen and sore.

I really wasn’t in the mood for the company but there I was opening the door anyway, only to find Mulder standing on the other side; in casual jeans, a brown T-shirt and leather jacket, as autumn was upon us I admit it had been getting a little brisk outside.

He looked at me and smiled and that’s when I realised what I was wearing. I stood there in an oversized baggy black sweater and regular grey leggings because even though I was huge, I still wasn't ready to wear maternity clothes while in the comfort of my own home.

I couldn't help but sigh as I let him into my apartment.

He had brought beer and a movie, and make himself at home sitting on my couch without asking me. Not that I would have said no, it was nice to see him.

It was nice. I have to admit that I had missed him a great deal and it actually felt like old times.

Mulder put the movie that he had brought along, into the VHS player and sat back down next to me on the couch, offering me a beer that I politely declined which got me a world famous Fox Mulder raised eyebrow but he didn’t say anything, saving me from having to mention why I wouldn't be drinking tonight, or any other night for a while. I grabbed the nearest pillow to try and help hide my growing belly from him. I decided to sit close to him but far enough away that he couldn't touch me, much to his obvious disappointment.

An hour disappeared without my even noticing it, the alcohol flowed freely... at least, on Mulder’s part anyway. He finally looked relaxed in my company, I was equally as relaxed to be around him again and making comments about the film he had chosen for us to watch. Ironically, Mulder had picked 'Aliens' which in our line of work made me laugh out loud. He knew I hadn’t seen it, and yes I have seen the first one but not Aliens, or Alien 3.

I had made a promise a couple of months back, to watch it with him and tonight I made good on that promise. Mulder kept looking at me in a certain way, like he wanted to say something or something was weighing heavily on his mind but he didn’t know how to bring it up without ruining our night, which was going well up to this point, thankfully.

It was starting to make me uneasy. We were enjoying ourselves, I thought. But I could tell something was coming like an oncoming storm, questions that I didn’t have the answers for... not right now and I didn't want to get into another fight. Not tonight.

Another hour and a half went by and the credits started rolling their way down the TV screen. Mulder lent forward grabbing the remote from between us on the couch and putting the TV on mute. He looked directly at me and said that the only thing they got right about the aliens was their colour which made me chuckle softly.

He looked at me again and smiled, causing my sweet innocent chuckle to turn into a deep, from the bottom of my stomach laugh and then his smile turned serious and that was when it all went wrong. So wrong!

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Flashback

Mulder looked directly at Scully, big blue eyes studying her pale complexion. He had been wanting to ask her a few questions all night but couldn't think of the right way to ask them. They were delicate and ran the risk of upsetting her even more than he knew she was. He took a nervous swig from his bottle of beer, hoping for some liquid courage after the turmoil his mind had been putting him through, thinking it best to just come out, ask and hope against everything that he got the truth and some answers he was looking for, from her tonight.

"Scully..."

The way Mulder said her name made her heart jump, her nerves kick in and the blood rush to her brain in the anticipation of what as going to happen next. She knew it was coming but she wasn’t ready, would she ever be ready? All the lies had been piling up over the last few months, and the idea of explaining it all now filled her with the level of stress she didn't know was possible.

"What changed?" whispered Mulder, still looking deeply into her eyes.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck Scully thought, but said "What do you mean Mulder?"

"Don’t play coy with me, Scully. Let me be more clear, what happened between us? We were happy, we were spending nearly every waking moment together and then one day we weren't. I want to know why? What happened? What could I of possibly done to deserve this from up? Tell me... Please"

"Well, I don't know what to say... a lot has happened recently, and that case with my ex really affected me. Honestly, it made me reevaluate things" Scully offered him, at least she wasn’t completely lying to him now.

"So everyone keeps telling me. I just don't believe it... it feels like more than that. Like I'm responsible for, at the very least, a portion of the reason you've pulled away from me" Mulder muttered underneath his breath "Reevaluate what, Scully? Us? Your job? What?"

"Life, Mulder. The unnecessary danger I put myself in everyday... I don't want to be killed. There are things I want to do with my life" Scully said, it was the honest truth.

"That doesn't really explain why you stopped talking to me... don't you think I would understand if you wanted to avoid dangerous fieldwork? I don't want you to be hurt because of me, you should know that by now" he looked at her, starting to see the water brimming in the corners of her eyes "At some point... we stopped being friends, you stopped confiding in me, and now you won’t let me touch you. I'd like to know why. In the past month you have changed in so many ways; the clothes you wear, the way you act at work, the way you respond to me. It scares me. Scully, please, just tell me why"

Scully looked at him, deep into his hazel eyes that portrayed so much raw emotion, he was hurting more than she thought and quite possibly maybe more than she was. She hated what she was about to do and for once she was absolutely certain he would hate her too.

"We were never friends, Mulder! Not even lovers, it was just a fling and I'm sorry you thought it was more but it never was. We're just two people who work together, OK? I haven’t changed, you're just seeing the real me. I told you when we first met, in that dingy bar that I didn’t want a relationship and I still don’t. It was just easy sex, for me. Do you understand now? Just sex, nothing more" she replied, the matter of factly and without a shred of emotion. It was so ice cold, she scared herself. She figured that if she said it in such a way, Mulder would have no choice but to believe her.

"You're lying, Scully! Not just to me, but to yourself. Why would you say that? How could you use me, after everything I told you. After everything we have shared about our lives," Mulder was red-faced and angry, his fingers clenched into a fist on his right hand and nails digging into the palm.

"I was sent to spy on you, and that’s what I did Mulder. I spied and fucked you, to get close to you and learn more... and reported back to them. Like I was always supposed too. You never knew me!"

Mulder couldn’t take it anymore, he grabbed the back of her neck and brought his lips to hers and kissed her, roughly. Scully put both of her hands on his chest, pushing back against his force and slapped him as hard she could, the sound of it ricocheted around the silent room.

"Ha! I knew it... God, I knew it. I mean a lot more to you than just a "work colleague". I see the way you look at me... with love and adoration. You can't fake that, Scully, as much as you might pretend you can... you fucking can't! You love me, and I think you should start being honest with yourself about the way you feel, before it's too late to do anything about it... before I'm no longer here to do anything about it. Do you really want to risk me not being here, when you finally come to your senses?" Mulder was practically shouting at her now, his anger being expressed more freely and uncontrollably than it had been given the chance to lately, mind racing and heart pumping.

"Get the fuck out now! I am done with you and your bullshit, Mulder! You don't know me or what I want in my life. Leave me home, immediately and don't ever call me again or stop by unannounced" Scully screamed, at the top of her lungs not caring about the neighbours anymore, she was so incredibly angry at him. How dare he say these things to her! Mostly, she was angry with herself though. She had made such a mess of her life and the very idea that he wouldn't be there when she got her shit together infuriated her, so she used all that pain and anger to make him leave.

Mulder stood up, grabbed his coat and opened the front door of her apartment "See you Monday!" he threw over his shoulder at her and then slammed the door closed.

Scully struggled to get up from the couch and walked over to the door, knowing Missy wasn’t going to back that night and locked it. She was about to go back to the sofa when her knees gave out and she fell to the floor, her back flat against the door, elbows on her knees and hands cupping her face as she cried for everything she had done to him and everything she was going to do, before finally whispering "I love you" into the empty room.

Unbeknownst to Scully, Mulder had not walked directly to the elevator, he had also fallen to his knees with his back flush against the other side of the door, tears streaming down his face and collecting into puddles on his lap.

It was late and he knew nobody would be around and he whispered ‘I love you’ into the poorly lit and empty hallway. He loved her so damn much, every waking moment was spent thinking about her, the way her body would react when they were in the same room. The electricity between them. He couldn’t be the only one to feel it, could he? Why would she do and say these things to him? How could she do this? Why does it feel like his glass heart had just been shattered into a thousand million piece? How could he fall in love so deeply, with everything he had and be told it was a mistake on his part? Damn her, damn the relationship! He got up and walked to his car, muttering something about needing another drink, a stronger one and just drove, ignoring the speed he was driving at.

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        So, that’s when I decided I needed to write in you. I’ve been a fool, thinking I could be his friend and work colleague, his feelings run deep as do mine. I know I have hurt him, beyond repair lately but he hurt me more than words can express tonight so I hurt him back just as hard, just like children fighting on a playground, scoring points. I just wish we had said something different instead of arguing, that he didn't bring it up all, when he knew it would only make things worse between us. Skinner approved my ‘Vacation’ time, without prying into why I wanted it now, which means I won’t be seeing him Monday morning. Fuck, I love Fox Mulder. I do. Everything he said was true, I shouldn't have expected less from a man who desires the truth from everyone he meets. I cannot believe the things I said to him tonight. I didn’t mean them. I hate myself for saying such things but it worked, he left and won’t be coming back anytime soon. I hope! Actually, that's another lie... I'm terrified he won't ever come back to me, that I've ruined the only good thing that's ever happened to me. Here I sit alone, like I thought I wanted, but I wasn't really alone, I had my babies... my last link to Mulder. Both of them were kicking and punching my insides, at least they weren't going to leave me, the thought of making me laugh. But I know the reason they're kicking so violently, they are protesting what I have just don't to there father. Even in utero, I can tell they love him. Irony of it all is... I’m doing it from them. I will always put them first. Nothing will be placed above them, not even my love for Mulder.

Yours faithfully Dana

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Dear Diary

This will be the last entry for a while, and all I’m going to say is... it's done!

Yours Faithfully Dana

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Apartment 42; realtime

　

Mulder was way past worried at this point, because he hadn't seen or heard from Scully in almost three weeks, and was staring down a nervous breakdown over her absence in his life.

Not since they erupted at each other in her living room that fateful weekend. Maybe he was stupid to expect to see her Monday at work like everything was still normal and they hadn't said horrible things to each other but what he didn’t know at the time was Skinner had approved four weeks vacation time for her.

He knew that she was angry at him but didn't think she wouldn't call or email in that time frame. It just wasn’t like Scully. Regardless, of how their relationship was at any time, she would always let him know she was fine. That fact alone was troubling him.

So, after he had woken up from yet another night terror(something that had disappeared from his life since meeting Scully) he decided to go visit her and apologize, to grovel at her feet if necessary, to tell her how he really feels about her and prays she feels the same way too. He couldn’t lose her not now, he couldn't go back to his dark, lonely existence. It would destroy him.

He poured himself a mug of coffee and sat at his tiny kitchen table watching the sun come over the horizon filling his living room with light and thought long and hard about the different ways he could say I’m sorry. After a minute he found one that felt right on his tongue and didn't leave a bitter after taste, he quickly got changed into some sweatpants, a cream and brown shirt and slid his cold black leather jacket along his arms.

Grabbing his keys, gun, and badge and quickly slipping his feet into his sneakers, still thinking about Scully, and then went down to his car got in and drove straight to her apartment complex.

Twenty minutes later he had parked and was staring up at her bay window but made sure he was out of sight, in case she decided to look out of her window at that unfortunate moment, still debating on what to say and what he should do. Now he was doubting if he should do this at all, so he sat there for another ten minutes before saying to himself "it’s now or never"

Mulder stepped out of his car looking around at the scenery before him, the trees looked bare and were covered in small water drops and he could smell the rain from the night before, puddles reflecting the morning light bouncing across the windows of the surrounding environment, the air was brisk and cold as he held is jacket against his chest as not to let any wind onto his chest. He put one foot in front of the other until he reached Scully’s door, knocking once and waited; there was no reply, so he knocked again and still nothing and he couldn't make out any sounds. It was silent on the other side, causing a bad feeling deep within, so he went to find the landlord expecting to have to show his badge to him but the poor old man actually remembered him from all of the times he had slept over at Scully’s apartment, handing the key to Mulder without a word. He walked back up to her apartment, putting the key in the door and unlocking it... what he saw next, wasn’t something he was expecting and it shocked him to his very core, brought tears to his eyes. Mulder walked into Scully's apartment finding it bare and Barron and he fell to his knees crying, the last thing on his lips was her name.

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also tagging some friends, @invisigoth-1013 @viceversawrites

[siren-dragon]

Blankets and Boxers (Ardyn Izunia x Reader) Ch. 1

Hi again everyone!

I was finally able to put this into writing for a FFXV Imagine I did a while ago here: https://siren-dragon.tumblr.com/post/162513236781/imagine-this when my washing machine broke.

Sorry this chapter is so short, as I’ve started my Fall Term and had spent the entire day running around like a headless chicken looking for my classes. Anyway, please in enjoy this! ^_^

Tumblr Masterlist

To the typical individual, Sunday was a day of rest. It was the one time a person could sleep in without any consequence, or go out to brunch with their significant other. Perhaps they wished to walk through the park with their dog and enjoy the beautiful sunshine that graced all of Insomnia. Or maybe it was a time for people to spend their hard-earned money on required necessities or frivolous items of interest. Sunday truly was the one day where people could relax and enjoy their weekend.

Sadly, you were not a member of that great society.

Instead you had woken up at an ungodly hour to organize your laundry so you could wash the select clothes you would need for the coming days of work. A job that would have been unnecessary had Prompto and Gladio not started a fire within the washer, effectively killing the poor piece of machinery. Though how they managed to do that remained a mystery to you even a week after the incident. As a result, you ended up having a stack of sugar, flour, and egg covered clothes lying in your hamper from your work at the patisserie.  

And even though you were angry and distraught at the loss of your washer, you couldn’t bring yourself to not forgive your two friends. Though they did manage to sneak their way back into your good graces by doing some heavy lifting for you around the pastry shop.

Tossing the last of your dirty t-shirts into the hamper, you dragged the laundry basket out of your flat, to the elevator, and out the front doors.

“Good morning Crowe,” you called to your brunette neighbor who had just walked inside the building.

“What the hell are you doing up so early (f/n)?” Crowe, your next-neighbor asked, stifling a yawn.

You sighed, heaving the laundry basket higher to rest it against your hip. “Laundry, unfortunately.”

“Your washer is broken? What happened?”

“Prompto and Gladio happened, that’s what.”

Crowe laughed, “I’m going to assume it was a pure accident; though with those two, who knows. But I feel your pain; remember when Nyx melted that bowl on the top of my stove.”

“The scent of burnt plastic still haunts me to this day.” You chuckled, “anyway, I’d best get going before the place becomes too crowded.”

“Sure thing, and I’ll be thinking of you and your misery as I lay happily in my bed.”

“You are too kind Crowe.” You huffed sarcastically, ignoring her roaring laughter that echoed within the small lobby.

While Insomnia was a large metropolis and always busy, many took advantage of the weekend by staying within their homes and enjoying the start of the weekend. And due to it being 06:40 AM, the usually crowded city streets had considerably less traffic than was normal. Placing the basket within the boot of your car, you took off toward the closest laundromat you could find.

Within 20 minutes you had reached your destination, a simple store front that sat underneath another apartment complex and across the street from a florist. Pulling your car into the small, 8 car parking lot, you grabbed hold of your basket and marched as purposely as you could with your slightly sleep-deprived brain.

The launderette was rather small, consisting of two back-to-back rows of washers that sat in the middle of the room to your left, while another two rows of washers sat to your right. Against the far-left wall sat dryers of various sizes, some already filled with clothing. Tables and cheap, plastic lawn furniture littered the room to provide a place to sit or fold your clothes if you desired. All around people who had the misfortune of not having their own washers tried to snag any unoccupied machine. Moving through the cramp walkway, and past a head-bobbing college student that nearly spilt detergent on your hamper, you managed to claim an unused washing machine.

“Let’s see…300 gil for each.” You muttered under your breath, trying to fish out the required currency. “Alright, so then clothes first and then detergent-”

You glanced down at your basket and groaned, realizing that you had ended up forgetting the soap at home due to your exhausted state. Placing the basket atop the washer, claiming it as your own to ward off other customers, and walked toward the vending machine which dispensed the necessary items should one forget them at home.

“Are you kidding me?” You moaned, glaring at the “OUT OF ORDER: FOR REAL!” posted on the machine. “For the love of Shiva, this is ridiculous!” You snapped, kicking the vending machine angrily.

“….Excuse me,” a voice spoke from behind you.

Sighing, you spun around to ask what the problem was, only to have your mind black out as you stared at the person before you. The first thought that crossed your mind was that the man was tall, easily 6 feet if not more. Hair the color of a fine, red wine spilled around his head in a mass of curls that put even your messy ponytail to shame; matching the stubble that was scattered across his jaw. The man was dressed in a black t-shirt that said Ebony: Human Gasoline with a pair of grey basketball shorts and a pair of well-worn running shoes with no socks. Golden-amber eyes stared at you from behind a pair of black-framed glasses, which oddly enough, reminded you of a cat.

“Erm…..you aren’t the owner of this place, are you? Because I didn’t mean to kick the machine.”

“No, I am not the proprietor.” The man chuckled, the sound smooth and rich like a bitter chocolate. “I thought you could use some assistance,” he answered, holding out a bottle of detergent.

“How did you- oh you….saw me….with the vending machine….” You trailed off.

He smiled, “that machine has been broken for several weeks now, so you are not the first to have expressed violence against it.”

You blushed in embarrassment, grinning sheepishly before accepting the bottle of soap. “Well, that makes me feel a little better. And thank you, by the way.”

“Your welcome,” he replied politely before leaning against a washer once more.

“So….” you started, causing him to turn back toward you. “…Is your washer broken too?” Mentally face-palming yourself at the awkward conversation starter.

The man smirked, as if he knew how awkward and ridiculous your question was. “Yes, but the new washer has been delayed with its shipment. And what of you?”

“My….friends, managed to set a fire within my washer.” You replied with a shrug.

He roared with laughter, the infectious sound causing you to smile. Huh, he was rather cute when he laughed….”

“I-I am sorry, but how in the name of Ifrit did your friends manage that.” The magenta-haired man asked, still grinning.

“To this day, it remains a mystery.” You said, raising the pitch of your voice like one would when telling ghost stories, causing both of you to laugh.

And so, your morning went, with you washing your clothes while conversing with your new companion. You had to admit that the magenta-haired man was certainly attractive, and a welcomed distraction from your mundane chore. He introduced himself as Ardyn; a name you thought suited him very well, to which he thanked you kindly. In exchange, you told him you owned a patisserie, and laughed as his eyes lit up at the mention of sweets. But time seemed to fly as the two of you spoke together and before you knew it, it was already 08:30 AM.

“I’m afraid I must take my leave.” Ardyn spoke, placing the rest of his clothes into the hamper that sat beside him.

“Yeah, me too. But it was nice to meet you; and maybe I’ll see you around….” you replied, holding out your hand to him.

He grasped your hand gently and lifted it to his mouth, placing a chaste kiss across the back. “It was a pleasure, (f/n). I do hope we meet again.”

You felt your skin flush as your face flushed as red as a tomato. Quickly you grabbed the basket and gave a nervous laugh, “M-Me too. I- um…enjoy your Sunday, Ardyn.”

“You as well, (f/n).”

With that final farewell, you all but bolted for your car, waved goodbye, and drove back to your flat. Quickly you ran up the stairs and into your 4th floor flat, humming happily to yourself while your cat meowed from his place on the sofa. Grinning, you heaved your basket toward your bedroom and proceeded to place you clothes back into their designated places within your dresser. Yet when you pulled out the first piece of clothing you froze, staring in horror at the white, collared shirt that was certainly NOT yours.

“This….This is a man’s shirt. What the- where are my clothes-” You stopped abruptly, eyes widening as you retrieved a pair of black, cotton-blend boxers from within the basket. “Oh no…..”

Ardyn stared in surprise at the article of clothing he had retrieved from “his” laundry basket; the lacy, lavender bra hanging from his finger like a freshly caught fish.

“Well….that can’t be good…..”