#ate too much cheese ended up in the hospital

[roosterforme]

Just Desserts | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Rooster only has eyes for his girlfriend and her baked goods. 

Warnings: Fluffy Smut

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Based on this fun request from an anonymous friend!

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? but it can be read on its own!

Check my masterlist.

Early Saturday morning, Bradley went out to play a round of golf with some of the guys. He had left you sleeping in bed, just pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before he left. He had promised you he would return around lunchtime and spend the rest of the day and the entire night with you. 

He was getting close to his next deployment, and he had initially scoffed at the idea of forfeiting even a few hours of your day off together, but you had got on him about being more social. So he accepted the golfing invitation from Bob, Hangman and Coyote.

Turns out you were a genius, because he ended up having a great time playing golf, kicking back a few 'breakfast' beers and hanging out. Bob was the only good golfer in the bunch, so it didn't really matter that Bradley lost a few balls along the way and that he had to fudge his score on the 15th hole. 

And now he was heading back home to you. When he unlocked the door and stepped inside, he audibly groaned. "Smells so good in here," he mumbled, taking in the sight before him. You were in the kitchen, wearing your I Love Meat apron that he bought for you randomly one day when he saw it. And you were surrounded by cupcakes, muffins, pies and brownies. One of your perfectly curated playlists was playing on your phone next to a stack of cookbooks. 

Then it clicked. You had mentioned you needed time to work on things for the Navy's bake sale with the San Diego Children's Hospital. Apparently you volunteered for this fundraiser every year, and Bradley had promised you weeks ago that he would be your personal taste tester. 

"I'm back, and I'm ready to work!" Bradley said as he kicked off his golf shoes and headed into the kitchen. "Give me stuff to sample."

"Hey, Roo. Did you have fun?" you asked, and he wrapped his arms gently around your waist from behind. He kissed the side of your neck as you unwrapped some sticks of butter. He thought you looked extra cute in your sweatpants and tee shirt with your hair piled on top of your head. And there was a smudge of flour on your cheek that he really wanted to take some time to kiss away. 

You always made him feel like this. He couldn't figure out if he was more horny or more loved up. He wanted to romance you and tear your clothing to shreds at the same time. It was very confusing and oftentimes overwhelming, but he usually just went along with it.

"Yeah, golf was fun. Thanks for making me go," he whispered next to your ear. He didn't want to distract you too much, since you seemed to have a lot of baking to finish. "Can I help at all, Baby Girl? I know how to separate eggs now, remember? Or I'm more than willing to sample what you've made."

With a grin, you turned in his arms slightly and kissed his lips. "Want to try one of the brownies for me?" you asked, nodding your head toward a tray cooling on the island. 

"Yep." He cut himself a large square and took a bite. Of course it was perfect. "So good, it brings tears to my eyes, Sweetheart," he mumbled around another bite. 

"Good. Now try a blueberry muffin," you instructed him as you set two beautiful looking pies in the oven. 

Bradley ate a muffin in three bites and moaned. "Delicious, Baby Girl. Can I try a cupcake?"

"Sure, they're cinnamon spice with cream cheese frosting," you said, but he'd already eaten half of one. And now you were mixing ingredients in a bowl with a wooden spoon, kind of dancing along to the music playing, and Bradley really couldn't help himself. 

He stood behind you and kissed your neck again, letting his hands come to rest on your hips. "And what about this? Can I try a sample? It looks so pretty, I'd love to eat it."

You giggled and then gasped as Bradley slid his hands to the front of your hips, in between your sweatpants and your apron. He rubbed himself against your butt and you moaned, "What are you doing, Roo?"

He grinned into your hair and kissed your ear. "I heard you like meat."

You burst out laughing, and he was so happy he had bought you that apron. He loved making you laugh, and tried to make it a daily priority. 

"I like your meat," you whispered, still laughing. 

"Think you can take a little break, Sweetheart?" Bradley untied your sweatpants and slipped his hand inside the elastic band, caressing the soft skin of your belly. You tipped your head back against his shoulder as he drew little circles with his fingertips next to your belly button. 

He let his fingers trail lower until they toyed with the top of your underwear. Your phone started playing I Only Have Eyes for You, and Bradley sang along.

'My love must be a kind of blind love,

I can't see anyone but you.'

You whimpered and spun in his arms so you were facing him. Now his fingers were kneading into your lower back. You looked up at him, and he was struck by the expression of desire on your face. 

'Are the stars out tonight?

I don't know if it's cloudy or bright. 

I only have eyes for you.'

"Bradley," you moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you. You and he drifted slowly around between the kitchen counter and the island, dancing to the song. Your languid kisses were making him dizzy. The lazy way you moved him around the kitchen and the softness of your sighs was mixing with the sweet smell of baked goods. 

Everything took on a hazy quality as Bradley untied your apron and tossed it gently aside. "I love you," he whispered before claiming your mouth again. Your fingers tangled gently in his hair, pulling softly on his scalp; Bradley was practically panting at your touch. He wrapped his arms around your waist until you were flush against the front of him. When his mind registered that you weren't wearing a bra, he groaned. He gazed down at you between kisses. A different song started playing, but his brain couldn't tell what it was. He couldn't focus on anything but you. 

He watched your tongue flick out of your mouth, and you licked his chin and then his lower lip, and soon he was devouring you, pulling your lip between his teeth and nibbling. "Good enough to eat," he murmured as you pulled his golf shirt over his head.

You giggled as you ran your hands over his bare shoulders and chest. "I agree," you whispered, placing open mouthed kisses just below his collarbones before licking the scars on the side of his neck. Bradley's head tipped back as your fingers connected with the button of his golf pants, and when you guided them down his legs along with his boxer briefs, he had to bite his lip. You were placing gentle kisses to his thighs and along the length of his erection.

He hauled you up to your feet and wrapped his arms around you, backing you up against the counter. "God, Baby GIrl, you feel better than anything." He kissed you hard as your legs tangled with his, and he held you upright, delving his tongue into your mouth. 

Bradley was dimly aware that you were pulling your shirt over your head, and he watched some strands of your hair fall around your face. You were gorgeous like this, your eyelids half closed as you bit your lip and looked up at him. He shook his head slowly, taking it all in. 

When he guided your sweats and your underwear off, he wrapped his hands around the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, setting you gently on the edge of the counter. Your hands immediately went to his chest, and you yelped, but he wasn't going to drop you. Then you welcomed his lips back to yours as you scooted to the edge. Bradley could feel the warm wetness of your opening pressing against his length when you spread your legs open for him. He adjusted himself so you were perfectly lined up, and he wrapped your arms around his neck before wrapping his hands around your waist. 

He kissed you gently, reverently as he pushed himself inside you. You sighed into his mouth and he moved in a slow, steady rhythm, in time with the sweet melody playing from your phone. He would remember this moment when he was deployed; he'd play it over and over again. Knowing he could come back home to this, to you, made everything okay. 

You ran the tip of your nose along his cheek, kissing him there and whispering his name. Your voice spurred his movements, and he pushed himself into you harder and harder without picking up the pace. He watched your breasts bounce each time he bottomed out, and you tipped your head back, guiding his lips to your neck. He sucked on your soft skin, biting you and nuzzling against you. Then he soothed you with his mustache and his tongue. He only wanted to make you feel good. 

He could feel you starting to squeeze him, so he slid his knuckles back and forth along your belly before settling his fingers on your clit. He gathered some of your wetness and teased you closer to coming. When he wrapped his other arm around your back and pulled you hard onto his length, you cried out, your voice breaking on his name.

Unable to control himself, he fucked into you with faster strokes, nearing his own end as you wrapped your legs around him, riding him to completion. Once you were both panting, and he was just thrusting his cum further into you as his thrusts slowed down, Bradley realized that the kitchen timer was going off.

"Sweetheart, what's the timer for?" he rasped next to your ear, nuzzling against you. He didn't want to pull out of you yet, but he needed to in order to reach the timer. He fumbled with it, distracted as his cum dripped from your pretty pussy and onto the counter. 

"Umm," you hummed, biting your lip and running your hands through your very messy hair. "I ummm... the pies? I think I put pies in the oven?"

Bradley nodded and shoved your oven mitts onto his hands, he carefully pulled both pies out, setting them down gently on the stove burners. He turned to you, and you winced when you saw them. They both had slightly burned edges and very dark tops. 

"I'll still eat them!" Bradley offered when he saw your face. "And I'll love them!"

You cradled your head in your hands and laughed. "This is because you're never quick, Bradley."

"Okay, okay," he said in mock-defense, tossing the mitts onto the counter. "You can complain about a lot of things when it comes to me, but do not complain about that, Baby Girl."

"It was merely an observation, Roo. Not a complaint," you said, giggling as he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you senseless. 

Then after you cleaned up, he helped you bake two new pies while he ate one of the burned ones directly out of the pie pan with a fork. 

--------------------------------

*sigh* Thanks anonymous friend, I really loved writing this one!

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[witchofthesouls]

Deliciously fucked up way for Team Prime to find out about the supernatural: Have a fae show up in one of the kid's homes. False Artifact preying on Raf's baby/toddler siblings, a Pooka replacing the pet dog at Miko's, or a Kobold decides Jack's place is nice enough to stay. The kids have a feeling something is up but the bots think it's just nothing.

Until they find an old school packet with info that eeriely matches the signs in their respective home. Miko's Pooka Hunting goes a bit awry so Bulkhead ends up seeing her get chased outside the house by something that definitely isn't a dog. Raf barely got one sibling away from being eaten by a False Artifact. Arcee might've damaged the house to grab Jack as he accidentally spook a Kobold.

Cue concerned bot noises upon seeing the packets. I don't think they like the idea of children eating fae in their charges' homes.

Ahhh, this went in a different direction.

Warning: off-screen character death (age-related and car accident), dubcon/noncon body modifications, and underage drinking

Now the Darby household does have a Kobold. It's been following them (and the lineage) for a very long time. Generation after generation, parent to child as the unspoken agreement is held with family traditions, superstitions, and practices that have been ingrained into family lore.

If there's one thing June absolutely misses about her ex-husband, it's his family. While June hadn't cut ties with her own blood, her own kin (even her own parents) never spent time in one place for too long. They welcomed into their home. Treated her well with food and warmth and taught her their traditions as she married a son of theirs.

It's an unfortunate fact of life that time comes for all. Oma survived years of hardship by war and reconstruction, without her beloved husband, and the deaths of her own dwindling family, she died peacefully in her sleep during a visit to see a toddling Jack. His parents, though...

When the call came that his parents were killed in a massive pile-up on the freeway, their lives came crashing down.

Grief manifests in so many ways. June cherishes what was left behind. She uses the quilts and recipes and leaves out a portion of dinner for the 'spirit of the hearth.' Her husband, however, drowned himself inside the hospital; unable to come home and look at the reminders, refusing to do anything with it.

Their divorce comes and it's... amicable. The man who was once her husband stares back with a frozen heart, shrouded by his own grief, and he offers to leave them the house as well. June declines and searches for warmer shadows.

The house is sold. June and Jack move on, and the Kobold follows them.

June is a Darby child, and her son follows her as well. Memories are cherished by them. (Faithfully. Hungrily.) And June dutifully attends to her once-husband's family's traditions: leaving dusty corners, a few dirty plates in the sink, grease on the stove, and many, little things that keep the home running. He may try to escape them, but she won't deny their son the same happiness and joy in it.

Jack was too young to remember his family's faces outside of photos and portraits, but there is a lullaby that follows his dreams, crooning over his head and chasing away his nightmares.

For the longest time, he thought the extra dinner plate was for Oma because it's the same dishes and sweets she once ate, even to this day. Jack was quick to hunt for tidbits about them, and always attributed missing left shoes, misplaced kitchen pens, tipping empty glasses during holidays, and creaking floorboards at night as her mischief. I'm still here, it said. I won't leave.

Jack grew up with the same quilts that consumed him, produce that never spoils (the milk might, but it's easy to make cheese from sour milk), and all the little things that made a house a cozy home.

Much like her own family, June and Jack moved frequently as well. Pests were never a problem for them, nor were mold or leaks. They were strangely lucky in that regard.

The Esquivel home does have Others in their vicinity. It's due to the unknown actions of their youngest member. One day when Raf was far younger and playing hide-and-seek with his siblings and neighborhood kids, Raf came across a pitiful, little creature in a drying puddle.

It flopped and croaked, squirming and clawing at the edges of the barely wet concrete of the patio. Scales flaking in dull, resplendent hues, and its side bleeding a sluggish black ooze. It wasn't a fish. Fish had no arms or torsos, nor had his older brother's books on marine life had anything about fish with two tails. Or fish that scream hard enough to make his nose bleed and cry oily marbles that plink on the ground.

To this day, Raf doesn't know what compelled him to step closer but he did. He saw the strange eyes, blinded and pulsing with veins. Later he'll find out about nictitating membranes, but at the moment it was strange to see how a little, blind not-fish stared back at him, mewling something that skittered across his senses and he tasted blood at the back of his throat.

Mama Esquivel was livid over his son's wet jacket and then concerned when he showed the deep bite on his hand and how his nose continued to bleed.

The birdbath in their backyard does get visitors. Raf rises with the sun to watch strange fish-like creatures splash around the small fountain, singing beautifully to coax birds to eat them whole. His sisters think there's a hawk or an owl nearby that hunting down the smaller birds. Raf knows better. He leaves them lizards and newts, dead rats and mice from traps, and leftover meat and nopales that he can carefully sneak away. Much like corvids, they leave him those oily-slick marbles (pearls), carved sea glass that store whalesong, and beautifully intact shells that contain the noise of a howling tempest and the sea at its most furious.

He knows because they explained it to him. Safety, they said as Raf learns to invoke a flashflood and charm to remain inconspicuous and he understands.

"I wish I knew what you're saying to me," a boy told a small fae that was dropped by a red-tailed hawk, far away from any source of water to return home. Its laughter was the sounds of a babbling brook, the river rushing into the ocean's arms. It asked its savior what was the boon he wished for, and the child unknowingly answered. < Wish granted, little Mudman. > And it savagely bit his hand to share their blood for water touched everything and anything, and who else but the fae could bestow the gift of language of any tongue?

Just because Miko is far from Japan, that doesn't mean she doesn't have something attached to her. And of course, it's a cat.

At first, she thought a feral cat lost a match with a cactus or a porcupine and had recently escaped a trap based on all the pins and dragging tail, but not at all. Much to her amazement, it's fast on its paws. Far more agile and durable, she has seen the creature slash massive cacti and easily jump from the ground to rooftops.

The host family she stays at isn't as boring and straight-laced as she once thought. They do enjoy making homemade brews and other fermented goods. They allow the kids to sample it, but only on the weekends and after a good meal.

She gets a little information from her host family. It's a Catcus Cat - a mythical beast; something that isn't real.

Miko leaves a shallow bowl of her own efforts at making mead and other alcoholic beverages, and the Catcus Cat seems to take a liking to the fruitier and sweet drinks.

The Catcus Cat follows her to the Autobot base. Even when she was riding with Jack and Arcee, she was able to spy the beast racing alongside them in the sand, easily keeping pace.

It allows her to pet it occasionally. Purring as it keeps its spines flat and soft, still prickly but leaving no damage. But it prefers chasing games, so Miko cobbled a fishing rod with pieces of raw meat to play 'Fetch' and got a laser to watch it scramble up solid walls and scale cliffsides.

Unlike the Darby's Kobold and Raf's aquatic visitors, the Catcus Cat had interactions with the Autobots. Particularly Arcee and Bumblebee. They enjoy racing in the high-noon sun and dark empty roads at night. It comes along because very few can truly challenge them. And the Autobots think it's a baseline Earth animal. A charming one, even if its yowls are thundering.

Out of all the Autobots, it's Arcee that figured out something is off. Unlike Miko's inability to hide a new car and the Esquivel's already full garage, Arcee can fit comfortably in the Darby's garage. June even partitioned out an area for the Autobot to transform and scavenged large bean bags and thick body pillows as a makeshift bed.

June often works and Jack is either at Knockout Burger or the base after school, so Arcee has no idea how there are fresh meals, hot and ready on the stove as well as how the Pits her pillow nest is fluffed and straightened when there's no one at home!

Arcee thinks there's some sort of weird intruder in their house that likes being domestic, and it drives her nuts that June and Jack are completely nonchalant over the fact.

She's definitely not happy hearing it's been happening for over a decade, and no she doesn't believe it's the ghost of a dearly departed relative!

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Thea Liang Species: Werewolf Occupation: Janitor at the Grit Pit Age: 22 Years Old Played By: Ria Face Claim: Chase Sui Wonders

"If you or anyone you know has been eaten by me, you may be entitled to damages."

TW: Parental death, memory loss (due to shifting)

Her father called it ‘moonwalking’, most medical professionals called it stress-induced sleepwalking. Her mother didn’t think it was so cute when Thea sleepwalked right into her packing her bags. Her father didn’t know what made his daughter worried enough to take off in her sleep but Thea, only eight, had a pretty good idea why. Most divorces ended with drawn out custody battles but for Thea’s parents it was simple: her mother didn’t want her.

As it turned out, the secret to making a hassle-free child was simple: a dash of abandonment, an anxious disposition and a strict father that was often too tired to take care of his daughter. Thea learned to be good, taking action to minimize the burden of her existence. She cooked her own dinners of boxed macaroni and cheese, forged her father’s signature on school trip forms and never asked for anything unless she had a PowerPoint presentation on why she needed it. She was neat. She was polite. She was as normal as girls like her came and she always made the right choices.

Thea studied hard, avoided parties, worked minimum wage at Tim Horton’s with a smile despite the bagels flung at her. She graduated as the valedictorian of her high school with a scholarship to The University of Toronto. Most people called her boring but her life went unchallengingly; all according to Thea’s safe plans. Her best friends agreed to split the rent on a shitty house with her, her father was proud, her mother and her new family threw Thea a party.

Cutting across Queen’s Park during a full moon shouldn’t have been any different than every other time she did it but her condolences didn’t reach the security guard that responded to her screams. The creature that bit her leg made a full meal out of his body and Thea used the distraction to run away. When she woke up in the hospital, feverish and missing a chunk of her calf, she could only wonder at what choice she’d made that meant she deserved this.

In a little less than a month, she was able to be released and her father took her in. Unbeknownst to him, her friends had hatched a plan to kidnap her for a girls’ night. Unbeknownst to them, Thea was hungry. She woke up with flesh between her teeth, an aching across her bones and a fullness in her stomach. She convinced herself that she’d started sleepwalking again and was taken back home. The next night, it was her father she turned into a stain. This time, her transformation was caught on the old sleepwalking camera she set up in her childhood bedroom. On the third night, she wasn’t even sure who she ate but the next morning's replete stomach told her enough. Thea left without goodbyes.

She tried to make good choices. She locked herself up, tied herself to trees, camped in forests and pursued dead ends for a cure. Every full moon bore the same story: naked, flesh in her teeth, blood under nails and the distinct feeling of a stomach after a feast. The constant undoing was tiring. Thea could try all she wanted to piece a life together, and she did try, only for it to unravel. Yet, there was nothing else to do but try. More full moons went by. She found herself across the border. She tried again. More full moons and full stomachs. She tried and tried and tried her way into Wicked’s Rest, Maine.

The town was achingly mundane; a real Murder, She Wrote sans the murder. Her occupation desperation got her an offer at a place she knew to be less than legal and yet, for the first time, she would have a job that provided a measure of stability. She took it eagerly. Thea never asked for much but this town and its promised normalcy was something she wanted. For once, she dared to be selfish.

Character Facts:

Personality: Optimistic, anxious, friendly, compassionate, good-humored, flighty, distant, independent, prone to tunnel-vision

Thea goes across the border every month to fulfill her prescriptions. As she doesn’t have a car, she carpools with a woman named Pollenina who plays nothing but plant erotica audiobooks during their drive.

Anytime she hears about a death or a disappearance, she assumes she ate them.

She used to go by Cynthia but is trying to distance herself from her past and now exclusively goes by “Thea”.

While thankful for her job at The Grit Pit, Thea is actively looking for other revenue streams. Saving up cash has been the most successful survival technique from her months of city hopping.

Thea still sleepwalks on occasion but it’s really nothing compared to transforming into a wolf and eating people.

Thea has entirely all the wrong ideas about Wicked’s Rest but once she sets her mind to thinking in a particular way, it’s hard to get her to see reason. Even if she did want to leave, her job is a lot more permanent than she realizes.

Thea is lactose intolerant.

[erisgregory]

For the Malex prompts, how about after they get Alex back, Michael is very protective/careful around him and it annoys Alex. I can totally see them doing that!

Thank you so very much for this prompt, I loved writing overprotective Michael!

Gotta Get Some Space

“I don’t need dinner in bed. I can get up and come to the table.” Alex said the moment Michael came through the bedroom door with a tray of food.

“You’re in here on your laptop already, I thought it would be easier,” Michael replied with a shrug. He laid the tray next to Alex and sat down.

Alex shook his head at him. “You did not. You think I should stay in bed and rest because the doctor said, take it easy, but Michael he didn’t say I was on bed rest. I was just in here because this happened to be where I was charging my laptop and I was too lazy to carry it back out to the living room.” 

“You’ve only been out of the hospital for a day and a half and you’ve only been in this dimension again for a week. I think I’m allowed to be concerned.” Michael told him.

Alex couldn’t exactly argue with that so he ate his grilled cheese and tomato soup and didn’t complain any further. Besides, it was kind of nice to be looked after.

As it turned out it was only nice being looked after for a short time period. Alex was independent. He was used to doing things for himself, by himself, and while he’d made some adjustments having Michael in his life again, he couldn’t quite take the constant hovering that Michael seemed to be doing now.

Do you need a refill, can I get you anything before I sit down, do you need another pillow, or another blanket, are you too warm? The list was endless and it was starting to drive Alex out of his mind. He was trying so hard to be kind about it because he knew how he’d feel if their situations had been reversed, but it was getting old and fast.

Two days later, Alex was watching tv and when he went to get up to go to the bathroom he stumbled slightly because the edge of the blanket Michael had wrapped around him was caught under his shoe. Michael was immediately in his space helping to steady him.

“Okay, that’s it. I can’t take it. You need to leave.” Alex said firmly. He pushed Michael’s hands off of him as gently as he could and stood up.  The hurt look on Michael’s face was enough to soften him a little, but not fully.

“Leave? What are you talking about? Are you… is this… do you want to break up with me?” Michael stammered.

Alex sighed and shook his head with a small smile. “I’m not trying to break up with you, I’m trying to take a break from you and you need a break from me whether or not you’ll admit it. Go to the store, go visit Iz, go see if any cars need fixing, I don’t care what you do but please for the sake of our relationship, go.” 

“Okay, fine. I’ll go, but if anything happens—”

“I’ll call you right after 911.” Alex promised.

“If you’re sure.” Michael said picking up his jacket and hat.

Alex nodded firmly. “I am.”

When Michael got back, Alex felt a lot more calm about everything. He’d made dinner, taken a shower, and even shaved all by himself and while it was nice, in the end he’d missed his overprotective cowboy.

“Everything go okay?” Michael asked as he entered the room slowly, hands held up.

Alex laughed from the kitchen. “Yes, yes, you come in peace, I get it. Everything went fine, but I’m glad you’re back.” Alex admitted.

Michael joined him in the kitchen admiring his handiwork. It was simple enough, spaghetti with meatballs and a salad, but Michael looked happy all the same which pleased Alex. He leaned over and pulled Michael’s hat off slowly and set it on the counter. 

“I’m glad I’m back too. And I’m sorry for all the hovering. I can do better.” Michael promised as Alex was leaning in for a kiss.

“You can hover a little.” Alex told him and then he kissed Michael soft and long.

Michael did still try and do things for Alex that he could do on his own, but Alex learned to take it in stride and Michael learned to ask first. Together they worked it out and in the end that was all Alex wanted in the first place. Soon, he would no longer be in any type of recovery and they could just get down to the business of living together and learning each other.

[osiristhehermit]

Aleister Crowley and the Cheese Lady of Paris

LA POULE AUX RATS

Time: a fine Sunday evening in June, just one and twenty years ago. Place: Paris, just off the Place des Tertres, overlooking the city. A large and lovely studio, panelled in oak. Strange: it was completely bare, and so far as one could see, it had no door. The skylights, mindful, were carefully screened with broidered stuff. A gallery, some ten feet from the floor, ran round one corner. Here was a buffet loaded with priceless wines and liquors of all sorts—except the “soft”—and excellent variety of all cold “snack” refreshments.  One gained it by a staircase from the lower floor.

By the buffet, the old butler: oh, for a painter to portray his Weariness of Evil Wisdom!

Our host led us to the gallery; “we ate and drank and saw” not God also, but the lady responsible for the heavy tread upon the stairs.  A woman of the Halles Centrales, in her early forties; coarse, brutal, ugly, robust, square-set, curiously radiant with some magnetic form of energy.

I cannot describe her clothes—for lack of material.  She greeted us all round with a sort of surly good humour.  The butler took a pot of very far-gone Roquefort cheese, and smeared her all over.  She drank to us, and clumped away downstairs.  She came out into the studio from under the gallery, braced herself and shook her mop of hair as if about to wrestle, waved to us and waited.

A minute later a small trap at the far end of the studio was smartly pulled up; in rushed a hundred starving rats.  There was a moment's hesitation; but the smell of the cheese was too much, and they rushed her.  She caught one in both hands, bit through its spine, and flung it aside.

Softly repeating to myself passages from The Revenge by the late Alfred Lord Tennyson, of which the scene most powerfully reminded me.  “Rat after rat, for half an hour, flung back as fast as it came.”  Their courage wilted; the hunted became the huntress; I thought of Artemis as I sang softly to myself, “When the hounds of spring are on winter's traces.”5)  But she pursued; snapped the last spine, and flung it into the gallery with a yell of triumph.

It was not so easy a victory as I have perhaps described it, once she slipped in the slime and came down with a thud; and at the end blood spurted from innumerable bites.

The whole scene was too much for most of the men; they literally howled liked famished wolves, and shook the balustrade until it creaked and groaned.  Presently one slipped over, let himself lightly to the floor and charged.  Others followed.  All had their heart's desire.  I was reminded of Swinburn's Laus Veneris,

“I let mine eyes have all their will of thee I seal myself upon thee with my might.”

As for the women, the ferocious glitter of their eyes was almost terrifying.  One of them, true, would have joined the happy warriors below; but the butler roughly pulled her back, saying in a shocked voice, “Madame est normale.”  (I enjoyed that!)  Others consoled themselves by capturing those males who were too timid to risk the jump.

I swallowed a last glass of champagne, and then ”je filai a l'Anglais.“

Summary: a pleasant time was had by all.

Note for political economists: the woman took 10,000 francs (at about 125 to the £); she took three weeks in hospital and three weeks' holiday between the shows.  She was, or had been, the mistress of a Minister with “peuple” ideas, though he was an aristocrat of very old vintage; and he helped her to have her daughters brought up in one of the most exclusive convents in France.

MAGICK WITHOUT TEARS, Letter LXXVIII: Sore Spots

[necrocities]

With tagging arfid in my other post just now, I figured I should re-check the definition/defining symptoms.

I'm disappointed. The discussion seems to have shifted to "it's just autism/picky eaters/not severe/a new phenomenon."

It's absolutely not new. The acknowledgment is. It's not ~just autism~, it's also not exclusive to autistic people. And I s2g if it becomes a disorder that's defined as only affecting children!!

I'm gonna blow.

.

[personal experiences below]

I went through years of doctors thinking I was bulemic. I had to argue constantly that I wasn't voluntarily throwing up.

I sobbed because they dismissed my struggles with being able to hold down food.

I grew up in what I thought to be a food insecure household. Turns out I was just not being allowed to eat. We had food, I was just restricted by adults.

I would walk to school in the morning and they'd call my foster parent because I was there too early for the free breakfast.

At lunch I'd have no money on my account and the lunch lady would bring all of the kids without money into the kitchen. She did this just to hold up two slices of white bread with a singular slice of american cheese and say that's all she had to give us.

I was chastised for hiding wrappers behind the couch I slept on, forming straight up nests of them because I wasn't allowed to eat.

Always being told I ate too much when I was genuinely malnourished.

Starting to shake in high school when I got so bad I could only eat once every three days. My grandmother (my foster parent who ended up adopting me) went into the hospital and looked like she was going to die and I had no idea how to process this.

My aunt forcing me onto keto, then veganism. I can't remember anymore, it was either a year long or two. Back to back.

I was losing weight once she switched me to veganism. I'd been restricted against my will from being allowed to have any carbs just to take away protein and most fats.

And I've been lactose intolerant my whole life.

I formed GERD. I couldn't hold food to save my life. Sleeping to tolerate the hunger pains.

Arfid is not to be taken lightly.

It's so much work to make sure I eat enough in a day. It's so much. I still fall back into forgetting to eat for a whole day when I'm too stressed or ill from unrelated conditions to put enough focus on food.

Food is so significant to my life, but so many foods are so triggering to me. I get genuinely delusional about having enough food in the house. I sob at night when I wake up after nightmares of growing up with my family putting me through the shit they did.

Arfid is not to be taken lightly.

[weightingonit21]

Hey listen, I’ve NEVER been one to keep up on a blog. Or a journal. Or any type of writing. But here we are, embarking on yet another weight loss journey. So I’m going to write about it. Keep myself held accountable, if you will. My mama suggested it and I think it could help. Backstory? Sure. Thanks for asking. Haha.

I’ve been overweight most of my life. Definitely all of my adult life. I was thin and healthy once. I was 16. Went to the gym twice a day. Fit into a size 11. Trust me, with my bone structure…that’s a very small size. I wore the BEST prom dress. I was healthy. Then BAM, at 17, I decided to take an antibiotic to help clear a TINY bit of acne. 3 weeks later I was in the hospital. Then diagnosed with Intracranial Hypertension as a side effect of the antibiotic. Unreal. To be honest I’m still in shock. I’m almost 30. Anyway, this rocked my world. More pills and side effects than I care to go into. Landed myself in the ICU for a little while. So much crap, really. Too much to go into and it gets boring and redundant anyway. Flash forward 23 SUCCESSFUL spinal taps and like 150 pounds. I’ve gotten married, made two incredible humans, and moved across the country multiple times. We moved to California to save my life with medical marijuana. It truly did save my life. It lowers the spinal fluid that took my vision and hearing. Did I mention I was blind, deaf, and bed-ridden in Texas? No? Missed that. Sorry. Anyway. California changed my life. Then we moved to Colorado about 4 years ago. Since then my weight has just been getting higher in number. I was put on medications for Bipolar Disorder. Thank you, Jesus. Because it helps immensely. But WOW the amount of weight it made me gain is unbelievable. So here we are. Day one of a new way of eating. Small…I mean…tiny portions. Nutrisystem actually. If you’ve never heard of it, look it up because I’m not really going to explain everything about it. But the basic idea is that eating LESS will help you lose weight. If I’m being totally honest with this blog, I’ve considered weight loss surgery. This is my last effort before seriously considering bigger, more unsafe things to lose weight. I figure I can’t die eating less food. I CAN die having weight loss surgery. I CAN from weight loss drug side effects too. So Nutrisystem it is. For now. Soon I will teach my body to eat less and I can meal plan on my own. But at this point, I’ve already tried this on my own. And it’s literally too hard. That may seem ridiculous but my body is overweight and so tired and quite sick. From EDS to the IH, I suffer massive amounts of pain that medical marijuana can’t even touch. I KNOW I can help some of that pain by losing weight. Here we go. Time to lose some of this and feel better. I’ll write everyday, or at least TRY to. Today I ate. And that’s good enough. I’m not going to eat butterfingers and Rice Krispies tonight before bed like normal. And that’s good enough too. These changes are HUGE and I can’t wait to see what the scale says about it all at the end of the week! Today I ate a Turkey sausage and egg English muffin, meatball “hot pocket”, four cheese manicotti, and chocolate cheesecake. All of that sounds so good reading it. It really wasn’t that good. But it tastes better than like dying from being overweight. So. There’s that. Here’s some pictures from junior prom. That perfect dress I spoke of. I actually had gained 15 pounds like RIGHT before prom. But look. I was healthy once. Imagine that. Here’s me today. Not healthy. Still wearing pink. Haha.

[betweenandbeloved]

All the Food

There’s so much to be said about the food we ate in the Holy Land but to sum it up: it was all delicious.

At pretty much every meal there was a full spread of salads, fruits, and vegetables. Each meal had a variety of: hummus, Baba ghanoush, egg salad, cole slaw, tahini, peppers, olives, pickles, tomatoes, cucumber salad, salad with dressing, fruit salad, oranges, and so much more.

Breakfast usually had hot dishes as well as pastries. The hotel in Tiberius had hot dishes of potatoes, pasta, and eggs while the hotel in Bethlehem had more of an English breakfast with tomatoes, eggs, hot dogs (yes hot dogs) and beans. My absolute favorite breakfast delicacy is the chocolate pastry; I had one every single day.

Lunch and dinner most days were a buffet starting with the above spread of salads and alternating some other main dishes of chicken, beef, or fish along with potatoes, rice, and vegetables.

On three days we had special lunches. The first was a meal of the St. Peter’s Fish from the Sea of Galilee. Jon ate the whole fish (pictured below) while I ate just a fried fillet of the fish. Two other days we had pitas with either falafel or shawarma. I was so hungry those days I forgot to take photos of them before we ate them. I can assure you there is nothing as delicious as falafel made in the Holy Land. 

One night we had the opportunity to enjoy a meal at a restaurant in Bethlehem called The Grotto. Along with the traditional salads we enjoyed some Palestinian BBQ. This reminded me a lot of South African Braai; which for those of you who have followed me for years, know I loved braai very much. It’s basically lots of meat thrown on the grill and then thrown into your mouth, and it is delicious.

We had lots of snack treats which I didn’t get pictures of because we ate them too fast (can you blame us?). We had the best falafel at Nativity Square, Bethlehem and enjoyed lots of different kinds of breads (pita and Ka’ak). The best local desert was called Knafeh, which was a sweet cheese pastry topped with sugar syrup and pistachios. 

A post about food would not be complete without also noting the delightful coffee and alcohol we enjoyed. Turkish coffee is strong and delightful, we drank it by the shot glass (because that small amount was more than enough) as frequently as it was offered. We had Bethlehem wine and Taybeh Beer; both made locally in Bethlehem. Taybeh Beer is a Palestinian brewery and has the first female brewer. We loved the Dark beer and are hoping we can find it state-side.

Nothing compares to the delicious food and hospitality of Palestine. Needless to say, by the end of the trip my pants were fitting a bit snug, but when we walked 10,000+ steps every day it was fine... 

[the-tough-blondie]

I’ve had this dry cough for like two weeks now. No other symptoms. Just dry coughs that sounds like I’m ripping my throat everytime. That’s it. And it started getting better until I drank some cold shit now I’m back to coughing a bit more and it gets a bit worse at night wether the AC is on or not. I’m pretty sure is just my dust allergy messing me up because I slept for like three months with the fan on my face and since I was a kid I’ve been told not to do that because obviously my allergies act up. But also, what if it isn’t? Either way, my heels go to my baby cousing, my books to my best friend who reads and my dog to my boyfriend. That is all, night night

[secretobsessionstuff]

LOVED the new sick Blair!!! From the sickee list could you do 1-21-32-63-94 for her, and caretaker list 15-19-29-32-34-62-99 for Dakota? Like they go out with friends, having a great night, everyone orders a huge sharing meal, or the same dish, basically everyone ate the same food but she’s the only one getting badly ill from it? Thank you lots xx

Thanks for the great request, anon :)

From the Sickee list:

1. “Is dinner sitting okay with you? Because I’m not feeling too good…”

21. "I don't think I'm okay."

32. "I can't believe I just threw up on you. I'm so sorry."

63. "My stomach's cramping really bad."

94. "Everyone's staring at me."

From the Caretaker list:

15. "It's okay. We can clean it up. Don't worry about it."

19. "Where does it hurt? Do you feel like you're going to be sick?"

29. "You haven't kept anything down in hours. I think I should take you to the hospital."

32. "You haven't been sick like this in a long time."

34. "You don't need to be embarrassed. It's just me."

62. “Let me tell the guys we’re leaving. I’m taking you home.”

99. "How bad does your stomach hurt? Should I be taking you to the hospital?"

----------------

One of the perks of living in a populous city like Toronto was the night life. New restaurants, lounges, and clubs popped up all over the place. 

Dakota had convinced Blair (and Madix and Riley) to have a double date so they could try out the newest restaurant along King Street West. That area of the city was already bustling with life after dark, so they decided to make a whole of night it. 

The eatery had a gimmick—as most new places usually did to attract customers. It was called Platter because each dish came out on a huge platter piled high with food. Every table had two or three large saucers set upon it. The four of them agreed on a spinach dip that came inside a shelled-out loaf of bread, a mountain of nachos, and an antipasto platter for a lighter option that consisted of cheese, vegetables, and meats. 

“There’s no way we can eat all this,” Blair said, eyeing the feast. She figured they’d all have food hangovers the next day. 

Dakota laughed at her, already getting his fingers dirty with nachos. “You should know by now not to underestimate me, babe.” 

“I’ve made that mistake,” Madix said, also digging in. “I always end up looking foolish.” 

From across the table. Blair and Riley shrugged at each other before going in for the food they wanted. 

“Besides,” Dakota said as he cross contaminated the platters by refusing to focus on one dish at a time, “we’re going to the new lounge after this so we can’t leave leftovers.” 

Throughout the meal they talked a bit about the wedding, and how stressful that was. Then Madix mentioned going through a rough patch with his mental health. Blair saw Riley’s hand slide under the table to comfort Madix.

Dakota had stopped eating to listen to this, which was saying something. “I’m sorry that’s happening to you, man.” 

“Yeah, it’s…” Madix looked down at his lap, “…it’s not been fun, but I’m seeing someone so hopefully it gets better.” 

“If you need anything—” Dakota began. 

“—I know.” Madix looked at his friend knowingly. “I know.” 

The conversation got lighter as they got fuller. In the end, Dakota ensured that they left with empty platters and stuffed bellies.

“How far is the club?” Riley asked, hanging off Madix’s arm as they walked down the street. “I don’t think I can make it.” He was dragging his feet, as were the rest of them. The meal was weighing them down. 

Dakota assured them that it wasn’t much further. He thought it was a good thing that they got to burn off the calories and shed some of their fatigue. Madix dragged Riley along faster, leaving only Blair to lag behind. Dakota fell back so that he wouldn’t leave his girlfriend alone. 

The so-called club was more of a lounge. It had a chill vibe with music that didn’t deafen every newcomer. There was a dance floor on the lower level, but there was also an outdoor patio with chairs and several space heaters. The inside rooms also had pool tables. 

Blair found herself on the patio, looking out over the city. She had lost her friends to the pool tables, but that was okay because she needed a moment of peace. Dakota was in such high spirits. Her, not so much. 

Her stomach was still struggling to digest the food she’d eaten. It was not putting her into a festive state.  In fact, her tummy was the most active thing about her. It churned nauseatingly beneath her hand while the rest of her body wanted to shut down. 

The cool night air felt good against her skin. Beads of sweat made her feel sticky and uncomfortable. No—the nausea made her uncomfortable; the sweat was just a nuisance. 

Her golden retriever of a boyfriend suddenly appeared next to her, carrying two drinks. He smelt like alcohol, but his demeanour did not indicate that he was anything but tipsy. With his constitution and such a full stomach, it would take a quite a few drinks for him to get drunk. He held the cups steady in his hands and walked up to her easily. “Hello my lovely Bee. How’s it going?” 

“Fine.” 

“Just fine. It’s a good thing I brought you a drink then.” Blair did not accept the cup, prompting Dakota to pout. “What’s wrong?” he asked, making his voice softer.

She didn’t answer right away, choosing instead to wrap her arms around her middle. Her stomach grumbled unhappily, churning up the mess inside. “Is dinner sitting okay with you? Because I’m not feeling too good…”

Dakota’s face fell. The tipsy feeling slunk away at the sight of her pained expression. “I feel fine. You don’t?” He put his hand on her shoulder after setting down drinks. “Does your stomach hurt?” 

She nodded. “A little.” 

“Where does it hurt? Do you feel like you're going to be sick?” 

“I don’t know.” She shook her head no, hoping that she could convince herself to hold it together. She really didn’t want to be sick and force their date to end. The nausea wasn’t terrible, so she figured she could tough it out until her stomach decided to work properly. “I think I’ll be fine. I just need a drink of water.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. You don’t have to come with me. I’m sure Madix was kicking your ass at pool, so I wouldn’t want to take that away from him.” 

“Actually, it’s Riley kicking my ass. And it’s darts, thank you very much.” 

“Ugh leave me. I don’t want to be seen with you.” She gave him a small push and began to walk away from the corner that she had put herself.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked. His hand lingered by her back. 

“Yes.” 

“And you’ll come get me if that changes?” 

“Absolutely. But it won’t.” Obviously, that was a lie that Blair unintentionally told. It fooled the both of them for the time being.

Dakota’s energy had dropped slightly by time he came back to Madix and Riley. His mind was still on Blair, worried about her having a good time. She sometimes had a habit of downplaying her symptoms so that she wouldn’t hurt his feelings. Actually, they both had a tendency to do that. He thought about his own stomach and decided that it really did feel fine. The fullness was dissipating, leaving behind nothing close to nausea. 

“Hey, Mads. Can I talk to you?” he asked, coming up to his friend. Riley was a few feet away, taking darts out of the board. He thought it best to have this conversation outside of Riley’s earshot, so he led Madix away. 

“What’s up?” Madix asked, leaning in to hear Dakota above the sound of chatter, music, and pool balls clacking together. 

“How’s it going? Are you feeling okay?” 

“Yes, Kota. Don’t worry.” He put his hand on Dakota’s shoulder. “I told you I would let you know if I start feeling anxious. Both you and Riley are being vigilant, and I appreciate it, but I’m fine so far.” 

“Oh…that’s good,” he said slowly, realizing his mistake. “But I meant more like if you feel sick or anything.” At Madix’s confused expression, he elaborated. “Blair says the food upset her stomach.” 

“Oh no, is she alright?” 

“I think so?” Dakota said, very unsure of his answer. He decided that he would check on her after finishing his talk with Madix. He couldn’t just forget about it, no matter how insistently she urged him to have fun. “But you guys are fine?” 

“I feel great,” Madix said before glancing over in his boyfriend’s direction. “Riley hasn’t said anything, so I assume he’s alright.” Madix seemed to think this over and thought better of it. Maybe they all had habits of hiding how they felt for the benefit of someone else. “On second thought, I’ll ask him.”

“I didn’t want to make him nervous.” 

“That’s very thoughtful of you.” Madix patted his arm. “But now I have to know. Just to make sure.” 

When it was confirmed that Riley felt fine as well, Dakota was the one getting nervous. He had to find her again. 

He made his way to the upper level of the club but stopped midway on the stairs when he almost crashed into someone. And what a coincidence, it was his gorgeous fiancé looking not so gorgeous with her drooping eyelids and sweat-beaded skin. By the looks of it, she took a turn for the worse. 

“Bee, hi, I was just coming to see you.” He grabbed the sides of her arms to keep the two of them from stumbling down the stairs. 

“Me too,” she said so softly that Dakota almost didn’t hear. He didn’t fully realize that he was supporting most of her weight, and if he were to let go, she might’ve let gravity take her down. She swallowed hard. “I don’t think I’m okay.” 

Then she gagged. 

Dakota didn’t have a second to react before she was vomiting up the contents of her belly. They were still on the stairs, and she was looking down at him—the perfect position to hit him with a gush of sick in the middle of his chest. 

“Ah God…okay,” Dakota stammered, feeling an unpleasant wetness against his skin. He switched to breathing through his mouth when the smell hit him strong. “Wow that’s—okay, it’s okay” 

Blair’s hand shook as she brought it up to cover her mouth. Fresh sick dripped between her fingers. She bent at her waist before removing her hands so that she wouldn’t hit him again. She retched again, this time splattering their shoes with the mess. They were still on an incline which of course meant that Dakota’s shoes took the brunt of it.

He held onto her shoulders, feeling the muscles in her back tense up. “I got you, honey.” 

Blair wiped her mouth on the back of her arm as she stood up straight. She moaned, keeping one hand on her roiling stomach. “Oh my God. I can't believe I just threw up on you. I'm so sorry.” 

“It’s…it’s fine, babe. Just follow me.” Dakota took her hand and helped her down the stairs. He could hear her gagging behind him, so he walked more briskly towards the bathrooms. 

But the bathrooms were barricaded by a throng of people waiting their turn. The two of them probably could have squeezed past the line, saying that it was an emergency, but Blair could not wait. 

He turned back to her apologetically just in time to see her bend oven and throw up again. A torrent of orange-ish puke splattered in front of her on the ground. 

“Shit,” Dakota mumbled. They were leaving a trail wherever they went. He decided to just hold her hair way from her face until she finished. 

Blair sucked in a ragged breath when she caught a break. From the corner of her eye, she saw that she had made quite a scene. “Everyone's staring at me,” she said, her voice shaking on every syllable. 

Dakota didn’t want to lie to her, so he said nothing. Instead, he led her outside to find a semblance of privacy. 

Once outside, Blair broke down. She put her head in her hands and cried. “I can’t believe that just happened. I—I don’t…I just.” She couldn’t formulate her exact feelings, but they were a miserable mix of embarrassment, shame, and nausea. 

“Hey, hey,” Dakota cooed, putting his hands on her shoulders again. “You don't need to be embarrassed. It's just me. There’s no one around now.” 

“Good,” she moaned. “Kill me right now. Do it quick.” 

He chuckled half-heartedly at her request. “I don’t want to do that.” 

The two of them stood outside for a while. Dakota was getting cold, but he gave Blair all the time she needed to feel semi-okay again. For the time being, she wasn’t moaning, gaging, or puking so Dakota decided now was a good time to leave. She needed a nice warm bed—or perhaps a toilet to be sick in first. 

He gently tucked her hair behind her ear. “Let me tell the guys we’re leaving. I’m taking you home.” He also thought he should probably tell someone in the club that there were a few puddles of vomit scattered about. He would make sure to leave a nice tip. 

“Don’t tell them I threw up.” 

After a beat of silence, Dakota looked down at his chest. “I think they’re going to know.” 

Blair groaned and hugged her belly. “God, look at you. You’re covered in it. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

"It's okay. We can clean it up. Don't worry about it.” 

She didn’t seem to let go any of her worries, but Dakota knew that it wasn’t in her nature to let something like this go without berating herself for losing control. He wished he could make her see that she wasn’t less of a person for having these moments. It was something he’d been trying to instill in her since the first time that she got sick on front of him. It was a slow journey because Blair was the most stubborn person he knew. 

…

She puked before getting into the cab. She puked after getting out of the cab. Amazingly she did not puke in the cab. Then she puked as soon as they got home. 

It was late. Very late, and Blair’s belly was not giving her a chance to rest. She hugged the toilet even hours after throwing up everything that she had to give. 

“Do you want to move to the bed?” Dakota asked eventually. He’d been freshly showered for a while now. Blair had been so kind enough to keep him company while he showered. She hadn’t really given him a choice, however, because she claimed the bathroom as her new home. 

With her head resting on the toilet seat, she groaned loudly. “No. My stomach's cramping really bad.” She squeezed her eyes shut as a jolt of pain went through her belly. The cramp made her gag, but she was unable to bring anything up. “I hate this so much.” 

Dakota looked at her with concern. This was a bad one. Every new cramp made her grind her teeth together or bunch up the fabric of her shirt in her fist. “How bad does it hurt? Should I be taking you to the hospital?” 

She shook her head miserably. The hospital sounded like a horrible place to suffer like this. They always spent five hours in the waiting room, then were seen for five minutes just to get an IV. “I don’t need a doctor. I need an undertaker.” 

Dakota sighed at her endlessly stubborn ways. “You haven't been sick like this in a long time, Bee. I think it’s a good idea.” 

Blair lifted her head off the toilet seat. “I really don’t want to.” 

“But you haven't kept anything down in hours.” Dakota exhaled deeply. He was tired and didn’t have the energy to debate this. All he wanted was for her to feel better. “Blair, my nerves are shot and you’re freaking me out. I don’t like seeing you in this much pain. Please, let me take you to the hospital.”

Blair heard the exhaustion in his voice and knew exactly how he felt. They were both ready for this ordeal to be over. The fight went out of her when she saw the desperation in his eyes. “Fine, but you have to carry me.”

[study-coffee-chicago]

Seasons of PD: Season 3: Jay’s Missing (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

As always, I don't own any quotes from the episode that happen to be in here!

Your age: 14

Jay's age: 28

Will's age: 30

"C'mon Jay," you muttered as you called him for the third time in an hour.

It was the one night a month where you and your brother would go out to dinner together and if there was a hockey game on, you'd finish watching it at his apartment. Then, he'd take you home. He was skeptical about doing it tonight since you had end-of-the-year exams next week, but you reassured him that you'd be fine; taking a break for a few hours never hurt anybody. And, you had all Saturday, Sunday, and Monday night after school to study since exams didn't start until Tuesday.

"You've reached Jay Halstead--" You quickly ended the call and began texting Ruzek. Hopefully, he'd cave and tell you what was going on.

But, when the read sign popped up seven minutes later, you knew something was up. If Jay was going to be late, he would've called you, or at least texted.

Since it was late May, the sun was out later than in the winter, which meant that it wouldn't be dark for another couple of hours. So, you grabbed a light sweatshirt and pulled it on, grabbed your phone and a few dollars and put them in your pocket, shouting a "bye Dad" on the way out...not that he cared what you did anyway.

You walked a few blocks to the El train stop, put your dollar in for your ticket, and hopped on. While you were on there, you were sure to have Ruzek's number pulled up on your phone and were ready to hit the call button in case something happened to you.

You looked at the map. The 21st District was just a few stops away. Soon, you'd know why Jay wasn't answering you. Hopefully, he was just out on a raid, handcuffing the bad guys.

***

"Kim," you said as you rushed into the district and saw the officer. "Do you know where my--"

You were cut off by the faint sound of a scream.

"Do I know where who is, Y/N?" she asked, completely ignoring what she had just heard.

"Jay, but that sounded like him screaming!"

You ran up the stairs to Intelligence, tugging on the gate even though you knew it wouldn't open without a member scanning their palm or Platt buzzing you up.

"Was that Jay? Is he there?" you yelled.

"Y/N, we can't let you up there right now," Kim explained.

"Why not? Jay told me we'd go out for dinner tonight and he always calls if he's gonna be late."

You looked up to see Ruzek coming towards the door.

"Would it kill you to answer a text?" you asked.

"Sorry, been busy."

"At least let me upstairs and then you can tell me where Jay is and I'll be out of your hair."

Ruzek sighed and allowed you to go up, Kim following you as well.

"Or Detective Halstead winds up as fertilizer in some cornfield in Indiana. We understand each other, Sergeant?"

"What'd he want?" Antonio asked, everyone totally unaware that you were now in the room.

"Halstead's life for all our CI files."

"H- His life?" you asked, frozen on the top step to the bullpen.

"Shit," Kevin muttered.

"Is he in trouble? Is he dead? Is that why he didn't answer my calls?" Your bottom lip started to tremble.

Antonio took a deep breath. He knew that if Gabby was in trouble that he'd want as much detail about what was happening as possible. "Something uh, something went wrong earlier," he supplied. "And then, because of that, some dealers took your brother."

"They took him? Took him where?"

"We don't know yet, kid," Al said. "But, that's what we're trying to find out."

When you heard that they didn't know where he was, you ran off towards the locker room. Ruzek tried to put his foot between the wall and the door to stop you from closing it and locking yourself in, but you were too fast for him.

You pulled out your phone and dialed a number you knew you probably should've called earlier when you first thought that Jay was in trouble.

"Erin? Jay's missing. You gotta find him. You're his partner."

***

Erin blearily reached for the phone, still trying to get over her hangover from last night--which lasted well into this morning--to go out for another night of non-stop partying, drinking, and drugs. She furrowed her eyebrows when she saw your name pop up.

"Hell--"

"Erin? Jay's missing. You gotta find him. You're his partner."

"He's--" She cleared her throat. "He's missing? What happened? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. I- I called him because we had a dinner and he didn't pick up, so eventually I just- I came down to the district and I heard someone on the phone say they're going to turn him into fertilizer, Erin."

"Do you know who it was?" she asked as she grabbed her service weapon and slid it into the waistband of her jeans...the same clothes she had been wearing since last night. A call that her boyfriend was missing was definitely curing her hangover fast.

"I don't know. It was- It was some dealer. But, you gotta come here and help them find him. You're his partner. Please." Your voice cracked on the last word.

"Okay, okay, I'll call Will to come pick you up and explain the situation. I'm leaving my apartment right now. I'll be there soon."

"Please don't call Will," you urged. "He's gonna be mad at me."

"Why's he gonna be mad at you?"

"Because I took the El and I'm not supposed to take the El by myself."

"Y/N, you taking the El by yourself is the least of his problems at the moment. Just sit tight and I should be there in about ten minutes."

***

"Y/N, c'mon open this door. Please?" you heard your oldest brother's voice on the other side of the door. "I know you're worried about Jay, but it's not gonna help at all if you just lock yourself in here all night."

You sniffled and then walked over to the door and unlocked it. "Will!" you cried, rushing into his arms. "He's gone, he's gone, he's gone."

"Hey, hey it's okay. You're okay. They're gonna find him and then you can have two dinners with him next month because you missed yours this month."

The number of times Jay had been shot or hurt on the job had caused Will to basically be immune to hearing bad news about his little brother. But, if Jay didn't come back or flatlined, then he'd be freaking out. And, despite Will wanting to scream at all of Intelligence to go find him, he knew he couldn't do that. He couldn't lash out right now because it'd only make it worse for you.

Your stomach growled, making Will go into even more protective brother mode. "When's the last time you ate?"

"Lunch," you answered.

"Y/N, it's 7:30. We gotta get some food in you."

"But, but what if he comes back? I wanna see him when he comes back."

"I'm gonna be honest with you. When he comes back, he's probably gonna need to go to the hospital just as a precaution. And, I know you have exams soon and your algebra one is stressing you out. I don't think Jay would want you to fail an exam just because you were worried about him."

"I hate math," you grumbled.

"I know. That's why you need to make sure you study."

"Doesn't mean I'm gonna end up liking it because I have to work on it."

Will didn't know what to say to that because he knew that you were right. So, he reiterated his previous point. "Let's go get you some food."

"Can-Can we just eat at home?" you asked. "I don't wanna not be home and hear bad news about Jay."

Will knew what you were getting at: you didn't want to break down in public.

"Yeah, we can do that. Still got a bunch of mac n cheese at home?"

"A few boxes," you answered, remembering how bare the cupboards were at your and your dad's house.

"We'll just grab something on the way home. C'mon."

"Can Erin come, too?" you asked.

"Go ask her. And, don't take the El by yourself. That's dangerous."

You rolled your eyes and followed him out of the locker room and into the bullpen.

"Erin," you started as you walked up to her desk. She had her head in her hands.

"Hmmm?" she asked looking up.

"Do you wanna come back to my house and eat dinner with me and Will?"

"I don't know if--"

"She'll come," Voight answered before she could finish.

"Hank!"

"Erin, we'll still be here working when you're done with dinner. Lord knows you could use some food in you."

"Fine." She stood up and grabbed her coat. "Not like you're letting me help with the case anyway," she muttered. But, no one heard that part.

Since she had quit Intelligence in Bunny's bar a few weeks ago, Voight was right in having her not work the case...not that she'd admit that. But this was her boyfriend, her partner, that was in trouble and she'd be damned if she didn't help get him out of this mess.

***

"Dad's not home?" Will asked as he let them into the house using the spare key that was hidden under a layer of dirt in the flower pot.

"He never is," you mumbled.

"What? What do you mean he's never home?"

"I mean, he's never home on Friday nights because he always goes out to the bar with some old friends," you told him. That was at least true. He did go out to the bar with some old friends...but it wasn't just Friday nights anymore, it was Friday, Saturday, and sometimes Thursday and Sunday, too. Because of this, he ate out a lot and didn't cook. Therefore, he had no reason to buy a lot of groceries, which was why there wasn't a lot of dinner food left in the cupboard...not that there was a lot of breakfast or lunch food here either, though. There was just enough for you to play it off that your dad just needed to go to the store. There was just enough for your brothers not to worry.

"Okay."  Will started to grab the Olive Garden you had ordered out of the bag. You said you weren't hungry--you didn't want to eat when you were this nervous-- and had only wanted to get some minestrone soup. But, Will insisted that you needed more than that so you compromised: minestrone soup and half an order of fettuccine alfredo...plus the breadsticks and the salad that came with the meal obviously.

A while later, Will was almost done with his food and was grabbing another breadstick and Erin was putting more salad onto her plate. You, on the other hand, had barely managed to finish your minestrone.

"Y/N, can you please eat a bit more? How about a breadstick? I know you love those," Will said.

"I'm not that hungry," you said quietly.

Will was about to say something when Erin stepped in. "How about you work on some of your homework? Maybe that'll make your appetite come back since you're using a lot of energy to focus. And, Jay mentioned that you have exams next week."

"He did?" you asked. You didn't think that Jay would mention stuff that you had going on in your life, like exams, to Erin.

"He always says how proud of you he is for working so hard in school...because he says that he was never as good in school as you."

"He really says he's proud of me?"

"He sure does."

"You guys mind if I do it out here? It's a lot easier to write stuff down when I'm writing in my notebook on the table instead of balancing it in my lap on my bed."

"Sure, kiddo," Will said.

You went to your room and grabbed your backpack and then started to work on your homework.

As you were working on it, your brain wandered back to the first time Jay had helped you with your math homework, all the way back in kindergarten, at this very kitchen table, when both of your parents had been working and Will was all the way in New York for his first year of med school.

You were sitting at the kitchen table, trying not to crumple up your math homework sheet and throw it across the room. It was only five subtraction problems, but subtraction was hard! You had only just started understanding addition!

You threw your pencil across the kitchen, where it narrowly missed the wall. It clattered to the floor, causing Jay to look up from where he was reading a book in the living room, the chair he had been sitting in was facing the kitchen, so he could keep an eye on you.

"Did you throw that?" he asked as he walked towards you.

"No," you lied.

He picked up the pencil. "If you lie, you get nine minutes in time out instead of six."

You didn't want to go in time out that long!

"I throwed it," you admitted, looking down at your math homework.

"It's threw, but thank you for being honest. Can you tell me why you threw the pencil?"

That was something his mom always did with him when he was younger: asked him why he did something and then, possibly put him in time out. Sometimes, he just needed to talk it out, and if that was the case, he didn't have to go into time out.

"I don't get sub-trac-shun!" you complained. "It's stupid!"

"Hey, we don't use that word."

"But it's hard."

"I know, but what if I help you? Would that help you to get it?"

"But Will said you not good at math," you pointed out, remembering something your oldest brother had said.

Jay chuckled. "I'm not good at big kid math. This stuff is easy for me."

"It's easy?"

"Oh, yeah. And, I think I might have something that can help you."

He walked over to the cupboard and reached up to the top shelf where he grabbed a bag of chocolate chips. He poured some into a small bowl and then walked back to the table and sat down next to you.

"We gonna eat chocolate?" you asked. "Even though I throwed-- I threw my pencil?"

"This is gonna help you learn subtraction."

"How?"

"Just watch." He paused and looked at the paper in front of you. "So, this one says five minus two."

"I know that," you told him proudly. "I know it says five minus two. I dunno what the an- the answer is though."

"Okay, well, take five chocolate chips out of here."

He held the bag out to you while you took five out, counting each one out loud. "What do I do now?"

"Now, if I eat two--" he popped two in his mouth. "--how many do you have now?"

You looked down at the chocolate chips. "One...Two...Three. I have three choc-chips!"

"That's right! So, five minus two is...?"

You scrunched up your face, trying to piece together what he had done. "I dunno."

"We had five chocolate chips. I ate two. How many did you say we have left?"

"Three!"

"Yeah. Five minus two is the same thing...just without me adding chocolate chips to the end."

"Huh?"

"Here." He took your paper from you and on the first three problems, he wrote chocolate chips after each number. "Five chocolate chips minus two chocolate chips is...?"

"Three!"

"Yeah! Good job! Now, write three down as your answer."

The next problem was three chocolate chips minus one chocolate chip and you did the same thing this time. Except, you got to eat the chocolate instead of Jay. You had two chocolate chips left this time.

Then, when you got to the last two problems that didn't say chocolate chips after the numbers, Jay showed you on your fingers how to figure out the answer.

Then, since you did such a good job, he let you watch Dora and eat some more chocolate chips.

"Y/N? Y/N? You good?" You were snapped out of your thoughts by Will saying your name.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine." You reached over the table to grab your pencil that had rolled towards Will. But, as you were reaching for it, your elbow knocked the two-liter of pop. "No!" you cried out as it spilled. It didn't just spill anywhere though...it spilled right on top of your algebra notebook. "Fuck this! I can't do this!"

You threw your pop-covered and sticky notebook on the ground and sprinted to the bathroom, ignoring Will and Erin's calls for you to come back.

You locked the door and slumped down against it. God, you needed that notebook. That had your entire exam review in it. And, if you didn't finish the exam review, you couldn't take the exam.

You only had 25 more problems left out of the 220 you had to do, hence why the review was given to you a month before you actually had to take the exam, so you had time to do it. And, some kids would wait until the last minute, but you figured you'd start early and do a certain number of problems a day so you didn't have to stress out and had time to ask your teacher questions if you had any.

But now, now you had a matter of days to do all 220 problems...and you had other exams to study for...and your big brother was missing...and...

Shit, here comes the Olive Garden.

You jumped up and lifted the lid of the toilet, quickly emptying the minestrone soup from your stomach.

"Y/N? Y/N! Open this door!" Will yelled as he banged on the door.

You leaned back against the bathtub and took a few deep breaths, willing yourself not to throw up again. You groaned as you felt the liquid rise in your throat and were back above the toilet in a matter of seconds.

You were panting at this point and trying to take a few breaths before more came out. Because you were so focused on making sure you didn't inhale your own vomit (ew) you didn't hear Will pick the lock and enter the bathroom.

When all that was left for you to throw up was bile and you were finished, you closed your eyes and leaned back against the bathtub once more, and took deep breaths.

"So that's why you didn't want to eat any more than you did," Will said.

"Will? How'd you get in here?"

"I picked the lock, Jay's not the only person in this family who knows how to do that, you know."

"I hate this," you mumbled, eyes still closed. "It happened last semester with exams too, but it wasn't this bad."

"Kid, you're stressing yourself out too much. You have to take a chill pill."

"I c-can't!"

"Okay," Will started as he crouched down next to you. "Why can't you relax?"

"I spilled pop all over my notebook!"

"So? You already practiced those problems. You know you don't need to practice them again, so just do the ones you need to practice."

"You don't get it!" You frantically rubbed the heels of your hands over your eyes as tears started to stream from them. "I needed that notebook! If I don't turn in the entire exam review I c-can't take the exam." You sighed and just put your head in your hands. This night seriously could not get any worse at this point. "And, Jay's miss- Jay's missing!"

"Y/N, I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay? Just take one."

"O-Okay." You took a deep, yet shaky breath.

"Now another."

You took another deep, yet shaky breath. And, you continued this cycle until Will deemed your breathing to be back to normal.

"How about you brush your teeth and then we'll figure out what to do for the homework once you do that. Sound good?" You nodded and stood up to go to the sink. "I'll be in the kitchen with Erin."

Then, Will exited the bathroom to go back into the kitchen like he told you.

"How is she?" Erin asked when she saw him come in. She had started cleaning up their take-out containers while Will had been busy trying to calm you down. "Sounded like she was puking."

"Because she was."

"Is she sick?"

"Not in the technical sense. But, she is what I like to call stress sick."

"Stress sick?"

"Exams are stressing her out, so add on top of the fact that Jay's missing, and she got so stressed out that she threw up."

"Poor kid," Erin sympathized. Then, her phone buzzed. "I gotta get back to the district. Tell her to feel better from me."

"Will do." He started to walk Erin towards the door, but stopped when they were almost to it. "And Erin? Bring my little brother back. Even though he's a pain in my ass half the time, I can't lose him. And, I know Y/N would take it really hard."

"Will, he's got the best unit in all of Chicago looking for him. We'll bring him back."

A few minutes after Erin had left, you walked into the kitchen, with clean teeth and the gross taste of vomit now out of your mouth, to see Will sitting at the table, staring at your notebook with a roll of paper towel next to him. "What are you doing?" you asked as you sat down.

"Trying to get the stain out," he replied.

"How? It's like the entire notebook, not just one page."

"You're talking to the king of spilled coffee on homework. And, lucky for you, pop and coffee are both water-based. So, I think I know how to get this out. You're gonna need to rewrite it in a new notebook, though."

"Okay. Need any help?"

"Can you just get me a bowl filled with water?"

"The paper's already wet. Why do you want to make it wetter?"

"Just trust me on this one." You yawned. "After you grab that for me, maybe you should go to bed. It's been a long day."

"Will you stay here?"

"Of course. I can just sleep in my old bedroom...unless Dad did something to it. Speaking of Dad, is he usually out this late? Does he usually leave you home alone this late at night?"

You were filling up a bowl with water and turned to look at Will. You shrugged. "Sometimes. It's okay, though." That was a lie. Most nights he didn't get home until two or three in the morning...but, Will didn't need to know that.

"I'm going to have a chat with Dad about that. He shouldn't be leaving you home alone this late at night."

"Will, it's not even that late. I'm fine." You placed the bowl of water on the table.

"Fine. But if it hits midnight and he's not home yet, then I will be talking with him about this."

You nodded. "Well, I'm gonna go to bed. 'Night Will. Sorry about getting sick."

"You don't have to apologize for that." He stood up and pulled you into a hug. "Goodnight."

You started to walk towards your bedroom when you remembered something and turned back to Will. "Will?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you think Jay's okay? He's gotta be okay, right?"

"Y/N, he's got the best unit in the city looking for him."

"And Erin."

"And Erin," he confirmed. "He'll be okay." But, in that moment he didn't know who he was trying to reassure more: you or himself.

***

"You wanna go somewhere today?" Will asked as you were both sitting at the kitchen table eating cereal the next morning.

"I have homework to do...a lot more than I thought I'd have, too. Did Erin give you any updates on Jay?" you asked.

He shook his head. "But, he's gonna be okay. And, you don't have a ton of homework to do. You have a ton of homework to copy."

"What do you mean?"

At this, he placed the notebook on the table. "I told you I knew what I was doing."

You flipped open the notebook to see that Will was right: he did in fact know what he was doing. Even though the pages were all still tinted a light brown from the pop, the writing from you doing all the practice problems was still legible. "How did you...?" you trailed off as you continued to flip through your algebra notebook.

"Like I told you, I spilled coffee on one too many notebooks in college. Now all you need to do is copy the problems down into a clean notebook. Save you some brainpower."

"Thank you."

"Now, I suggest we got to CCU's library so you can get a change of scenery while doing that."

"CCU? Why? And, you're not a student there anymore. How are we gonna get in?"

Will scoffed. "They don't check student IDs when you go in. And, a change in my workspace always helped me to focus when I was studying, so maybe it'll help you."

"Workspace," you mocked. "So professional. But, yeah, let's do that. Can we keep our phones on though in case Erin calls?"

Will nodded. "Of course."

***

Getting into CCU wasn't actually that hard. All Will had to do was pay $10 for a day pass to park and then you walked into the library, no student ID necessary.

"Okay kiddo, where are we sitting?" he asked.

"I don't know. I've never been here before. Where did you normally sit?"

"Second floor. It's generally quieter up there and the tables are big, so I could throw my books all over it. But, I'd come back down here for coffee a lot, too."

"There's a coffee shop?" you asked as you widened your eyes. "In the library?"

"Well, tuition is out of this world. So, at least we get something out of it."

"Can we go? I think I have $5 somewhere in my backpack."

"If prices haven't gone up since I was here when the dinosaurs roamed the earth, then I can get a muffin and a large coffee for $5. I'll have the coffee and you can have the muffin. I'll pay," Will told you.

"Okay, thank you! And, you're not that old, Will."

You got your triple chocolate muffin and Will got his large coffee. Then, you found one of the big tables that he had mentioned and started copying your algebra review into another notebook.

"What are you going to do? Sit here and stare off into space?" you asked your brother. "Wait," you began as you started to rummage around in your backpack for an eraser, "What's this?"

You set a big book on the table. And it's definitely not something you'd read because it was called "How We Learn", which you assumed meant that the book was nonfiction and went into the science of learning.

"I found it in my room. Must've left it there from Christmas last year and I haven't had a chance to read it, so I figured I'd bring it to read now."

"Fair enough."

***

"Did Jay ever want to go to college?" you asked a few hours later. "Or, did he know it just wasn't right for him?"

"I think he always knew he wanted to do something involving being on the front lines and being in all the action," Will answered, dog-earing the page in his book and setting it down. "Why? You don't want to go to college either?"

"No, I do," you said quickly. "It's just- I just want to know things that I've never asked him if we...you know..."

Will nodded. "I know you're worried about him, but if Hank Voight's anything like Jay's told me, he won't let anything happen to one of his own."

"But he let it happen to Jules," you said. What if Jay was the next Jules?

"Jules? Who's Jules?"

"She was Antonio's partner. Antonio's the reason Jay got into Intelligence. And one day, he said we were going to go see a movie. Like, he just randomly picked me up from school and everything. I could tell he was sad after the movie, and it wasn't a sad movie, and he told me that someone he worked with died. A little later, we were walking by the memorial wall by the district and he showed me her name."

"I see," Will said, drawing on his talking-to-patient skills because what else was he going to say?

Luckily, he was saved by his phone ringing.

"Hello? Erin?" Pause. "He's at Med?" Pause. "Okay, yeah, we'll be there in ten minutes."

"He's okay?" you asked as soon as Will ended the call. "Jay's okay? They found him?"

Will nodded. "He's at Med. Erin said he's a little bruised, but he was conscious, so that's good."

You took Will's book and shoved it in your backpack along with your schoolwork. "Let's go."

***

"Nat, really, my ribs don't need to be wrapped. I'm fine," Jay protested as he sat in a treatment room at Chicago Med, Erin standing next to him in some clean clothes that Natalie had let her borrow.

"Jay, your ribs are badly bruised. They need to be wrapped. If you're more comfortable with a guy wrapping them, I can easily call in a male nurse for help," Natalie suggested.

"No, it's not that. I don't care who does it."

"My little brother just doesn't want to bruise his big ego, that's what's going on, Nat," Will said as he entered the treatment room with you by his side.

You jumped when Jay turned and you saw his face and his chest: a black eye that went from the inside corner of his right eye to his right temple, a gash on the top right of his forehead, another gash on the left side of his forehead which was diagonal and above the outside portion of his left eyebrow, a jagged cut that went down his left temple starting at eye level, a split lip, and purple, blue, and red bruises along with some cuts and welts that littered his ribs and chest.

"You're okay?" you asked as your lips pulled into a frown and tears stung your eyes.

"I'm okay. Just a little beat up right now. Nothing to worry about."

Without thinking, you ran to his bed and gave him a hug. He let out a groan as you squeezed a bit too tight, irritating his ribs.

You pulled away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay, my ribs are just gonna be a little sore for a few days."

"I thought you were going to be turned into fertilizer."

"Fertilizer?" Jay furrowed his eyebrows. "Who told you that?"

"When you didn't call me back about dinner, I tried calling Adam, but he didn't pick up either, so I went to the district. I heard some guy on the phone saying he was going to turn you into- into fertilizer. I was so scar- so scared."

Tears rolled down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away.

Jay stood up with a grimace and walked the few paces over to you, wrapping you in a hug. "Hey, I'm okay now. That's all that matters. And, you did a really good job calling Erin."

"I did?"

"You sure did. She told me all about how you told her that I was gone and that she'd be able to get me out because we're partners." He paused. "She also told me that you took the El by yourself."

"Erin," you whined. "You weren't supposed to tell him that."

"It's okay," Jay said. "I won't tell Dad as long as you don't do it again."

"I won't," you replied. Not like Dad would do anything anyway, you thought to yourself.

"Jay," Will started, "You need to get back into bed."

"It's just bruised ribs, Will. I'm fine," Jay argued.

"It's just bruised ribs, Will. I'm fine," Will mocked. "Yeah, tell me that tomorrow when you can barely walk because of how sore they are. Bed. Now."

"Fine." Jay sat down with a huff and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I swear, you're such a child, Halstead," Erin said.

***

You walked out of school a few days later feeling free. Summer was here and you were no longer a middle-schooler. You were now a high schooler.

You started to walk out of campus, the way you took to walk home every day, when you heard the thundering of footsteps behind you, causing you to jump and turn around.

"Jay." You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw it was your brother.

"Hey, figured I'd pick you up. My text must not have gone through."

"Oh, I turned my phone off because of exams. Sorry."

"No problem. C'mon, we're going out to lunch and then we'll stop home to grab your swimsuit."

"Swimsuit? Why?"

"Mom would always take us to Navy Pier on the first day of summer to go swimming. And, since Will's shift ends at 1:00 and I'm on leave because of injury, it's the first year we can actually do this all together."

You nodded, trying to hold back tears at the mention of your mom.

"Hey, let me take your backpack. That thing looks like it's gonna make you topple over." You took it off and handed it to him. "Whoa! What's in here? Rocks?"

You laughed. "Nope, end of the year locker cleanout. Everything that was shoved in my locker is now in there."

"No rotten food I hope," Jay joked.

"No," you laughed. "Why? Did you or Will leave food in your locker?"

"No, we knew better than that. But the kid next to me left a milk carton in there over spring break and that smelled funky when we got back. I started bringing my backpack around with me just so I didn't have to go back to my locker because it smelled so bad."

"We can't do that. Teachers say it's for our safety because of bombs."

Jay opened the door to the backseat and put your backpack in there while you got into the passenger seat. Then, he got in the driver's seat all the while thinking how you knew that that was the reasoning behind that rule. He knew the reasoning because he was a detective. But he thought that most of the time, kids just thought it was some stupid rule.

"How do you know about that?" he asked once he started his truck.

"One of my teachers told us. She was mad at a kid who kept bringing his backpack to class even though she told him not to, so he went off on her and called it a stupid rule and asked why we even had the rule. She told him it was because if there's a bomb threat then she has to check every single backpack. That's why."

"Oh," was all Jay said. He really didn't want to be having this conversation with you, but here he was.

"Is it different?" you asked.

"Is what different?"

"Like, is high school different now than when you were in high school? And how different is middle school from high school?"

"Are you nervous for high school already, kiddo? You just finished eighth grade like fifteen minutes ago!"

You shrugged. "I'm just curious is all." Jay quirked an eyebrow at you while he took his eyes off the road for a split second and then returned them back to the road. "Okay, fine. I'm a little nervous."

"Let's talk about this over brunch, okay?"

"Okay."

***

Of course, Jay knew that you wanted to go to iHOP because breakfast was good at any time of the day. Jay thought differently though and ordered a sandwich instead of breakfast food like you. You had gotten their cinnamon roll pancakes with bacon, sausage, and hashbrowns on the side.

You were waiting for the comment about it being a lot of food, but that never came...which you were thankful for. You didn't know how you were supposed to explain to your very perceptive brother that the reason that you were eating a lot here was that you only had about 3/4 cups of dry cereal this morning before school because you were out of milk. You were out of milk and your dad didn't go grocery shopping. And, it's not like you had enough money to buy groceries or that you knew where your dad kept the money so you could take $20 just to buy food and hide it in your room so that you had something to eat.

"So, what do you want to know about high school?" Jay asked. "Did you get your schedule yet?"

If you were going to Central Chicago High School after going to their middle school, you had the option to schedule your classes the month prior and then you'd see if you'd get those classes. Of course, it might not be possible to get every class with every teacher you want, but it was cool that you got to know right when you finished eighth grade. And, in high school, it was the same thing: on the last day of ninth grade, if you were staying for tenth grade, then you'd get your schedule on the last day of ninth grade. It was sort of weird to you, but you got used to it.

"Is Eva going to be at the beach, too?" you asked. You knew it was her's and Diego's last day of school along with Jordan's and Vanessa's, so you wanted Jordan and Eva to be there when you told everyone your schedule so they could tell you everything they knew about the teachers you had next year.

"I can text Antonio. Why?" Jay asked.

"I just wanted to see if Eva and maybe Jordan would be there because they could tell me everything about the teachers I have."

"I can text Antonio and Kevin. You know what, I'll text Ruz and Burgess too."

"And Mouse."

"And Mouse. Can't forget about him now, can we?"

"What about Erin? Is she coming, too?"

"Uh, I don't know about that. She's had a rough couple of days."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Why?"

"You know how Voight took her in?" You nodded. "Well, after Nadia died, she was backsliding. Badly. And now, she's detoxing and it's kinda hard on a person's body."

"Okay, but seeing you would make her feel better. She's always happy when she's around you. And you always have this big, dopey grin on your face whenever you're around her."

"I do not," Jay protested. You raised your eyebrows at him. "Okay fine, maybe I do that occasionally. I'll text some people and then we can talk about high school."

Jay sent the texts while you continued to eat. He took a few bites of his sandwich and then broached the topic of high school once more by saying, "So, what do you want to know about high school?"

"I dunno. How's it different from when you went to school like twenty years ago."

"Hey! It was not twenty years ago. I'll have you know it was ten years ago!"

"Same thing."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Well, shootings happened, but not as much as they do now." You opened your mouth to ask if Jay had ever responded to one, when he stopped you. "And I know what you're going to ask. No, I didn't respond to one and I wouldn't tell you if I did. What do I always tell you?"

"I'm trying to keep you innocent and sheltered from all the bad stuff in the world," you said verbatim of what he had told you dozens of times when you asked for details of what he was doing at work.

"Word for word. So, we got to carry our backpacks around and it was an open campus."

"It used to be an open campus?" you asked, shocked.

"Yup, we rarely even had to sign out."

"Lucky! I wanna leave school and go to Mcdonald's for lunch!"

"Too bad you weren't born like fifteen years earlier and that could've happened."

"Oh, and we could eat lunch on the roof. There was a way to climb through the ceiling above the indoor track. It's closed now, though."

"Why'd they close it?"

"Yeah, you might want to wait until we're at the beach for me to tell that story since I'm sure everybody else would find it funny."

"Okay..." you trailed off, drawing out the "y". You didn't know why everyone would find a story of a hole in the ceiling being closed funny, but you figured it was best to let Jay have his way...with this one at least. "What's the difference between middle school and high school?"

"Now, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret: nobody cares in high school."

"What do you mean?"

"Just ask Eva when we get to the beach."

"She's coming?"

"Her, Diego, Antonio, Kev, Adam, Kim, Jordan, Vanessa, Mouse, Erin, and of course Will are all coming."

***

Luckily, Jay decided to stay in the car while you ran inside your house and changed into a swimsuit, slipping your clothes over top of it so it would be easier when you got to the pier.

"Dawson!" Jay yelled as he walked up the beach, bag in hand filled with his swim trunks, water bottles, and a few bags of chips. Typically, he would've brought beer to the beach, but he had to drive home, with you in the car no less, so no drinking for him.

"Halstead!" Antonio yelled back.

Once you got up close enough, you saw that Gabby was there, too.

"Bring Gabby to be your DD, Antonio?" Jay jokingly asked.

"I mean, I'm sure Ruzek's bringing beer, so I might be able to get away with one."

"Uh uh," Gabby said. "If Kim brings some fruity drinks, you're driving home."

"So, if she brings regular drinks I can have a few beers?"

"Your cap is two, Antonio. You've got these two to take care of." She gestured to Eva and Diego. Diego was already jumping the waves and Eva was laying down on a beach towel starting to get a tan.

"Eva!" Antonio yelled. "Y/N's here!"

"Oh thank God," she said and walked up to you. "Girl, come sit your towel down next to mine and then we can look at your schedule."

"Yeah, I wanna see that, too!" Jay exclaimed.

"Should we wait for Will? And Jordan? Maybe Jordan has some input about the teachers. And, Jay said he has a story to tell about a hole in the ceiling of the high school and he wants to be sure everyone is around to hear it."

Ten minutes later, everyone had arrived and was in their swimming gear. "Okay, what's this story about the ceiling, Jay?" you asked.

"Oh, that story," Will joked.

"Yeah, that one. What other one would there be?"

Will rolled his eyes.

"Okay, before I start, I am going to preface this by saying that I was young and I was very stupid."

"He's stupid every day," Will dramatically leaned over Jay and whispered to Erin.

"Man, would you shut up and let me tell the story?" Will sat in silence for a few seconds. "Thank you.

"We all know about senior pranks. Well, it was my senior year and a few of us from the soccer team decided to pool our money together and buy some live chickens--"

"Did you say chickens? As in chickens with feathers? That squawk?" Kevin asked.

"Yes, real chickens. What other ones would there be?"

"Maybe they were chicken nuggets," Adam suggested.

Jay dramatically sighed. "Antonio, did you miss having me in the unit this week? You and Erin had to put up with these two bozos all by yourself."

"Hey!" Adam and Kevin yelled in unison.

"Anyway, as I was saying, some of us from the soccer team pooled our money together to buy chickens. Real live chickens, not chicken nuggets, Ruz. Then, we chose a Sunday night to get into the school--they always left this one back door unlocked--and we climbed onto the roof from the stairs/hole thingy in the ceiling right above the indoor track.

"Once we got to the roof, we dropped the chickens off of it. But, our stupid lookout got caught and then the cops came."

"You got arrested?" Adam laughed. "This is priceless."

"Didn't get arrested. Just had to do community service to be able to walk at graduation. But, nowadays, yeah, I'd have probably gotten arrested."

"So, that's why they closed it? Because you and your friends decided to drop chickens from the roof?" you asked.

"Exactly."

"Were Mom and Dad mad?" you asked. "I was little. I don't remember."

"They weren't thrilled, I'll tell you that much. I think if I would've gotten arrested it would've been a lot worse."

"He's downplaying it," Will said. "Mom grounded him from everything. Car keys, those crappy Motorola phones we had back then, GameBoy, dates with Allie. He couldn't do anything."

"Does not sound fun. I won't be trying that." You pulled your schedule out of the bag Jay had brought and passed it to your brother first.

"Aw, man, you got Cunningham for history," Jay groaned. "Or should I say Cuntingham."

"Jay!" you yelled.

"That old hag is still teaching? Damn," Will added.

"Okay, what's the issue with her? Eva? Jordan? Anything about this Cunningham lady?"

"She just hates freshman," Eva supplied. "When you become a sophomore it gets better."

"And she hates when you tip back in your chair," Jordan added. "She'll make you pay her 25 cents if she sees you do it in her class."

"Okay, no tipping in chairs, and I have to deal with her for a year, noted." You turned to your brothers. "How do you know of her?"

"I didn't have a problem with her other than the fact that she's a crappy teacher," Will said. "But  Jay, on the other hand, he's a different story."

"What'd you do?"

"So, I was a freshman when you were born and Mom went into labor the night before I had a test. And, because everyone hates tests, I went to the hospital with Will that morning and we waited for Mom to you know, be done giving birth to you.

"And, I went to school the next day and this old hag said that because there wasn't a doctor's note that I couldn't take the test--"

"He was this close--" Will pinched his pointer finger and thumb together so that they were almost touching. "--to taking you to school one day just to show you to Cunningham and saying is this a good enough doctor's note for you?"

"But Mom wouldn't let me do that...for obvious reasons. And then, because I couldn't take that one stupid test, I did not do well in that class."

"Just say you're related to me," Will said. "Don't mention Jay's name at all and you'll be fine."

"Got it. I'm gonna go in the water now."

You started to go in the water when you heard Erin and Will trying to convince Jay to go in.

"Dude, I can't roughhouse because of my ribs, you know this!" Jay told Will. "And, I am not going in the water with you again, not after what happened last time."

"Jay, that was twelve years ago, give it rest."

At this, your ears perked up. "What'd Will do?" you asked, walking back up to your brothers and Erin.

"He tried to drown me."

"Did not! I just wanted to see how long you could hold your breath."

"Yeah, see how long it would take me to drown!"

"He tried to drown you?" Erin asked.

"Yeah," Jay answered. "Me and Will were playing in the water. I was like 16 and Will was like 18. Y/N was a little toddler and was playing with her shovel on the beach. Then, Mom had to go to the bathroom, so she left me and Will in charge."

"Bad idea number one," Will said.

"There's more bad ideas. So, Y/N's playing in the sand, me and Will are playing in the water, and then next thing I know, Will's practically on top of me and holding my head underwater."

"And the minute I let you up was the minute Mom came back."

"Yup, perfect timing."

"And then you have Y/N who's sitting on the beach and decided to watch us and was just clapping her hands and chanting again, again!"

"Really?" you asked, as you tried to hold back your laughter. "I did that?" Will nodded and you shrugged. "Sounds pretty accurate to me."

"And then I didn't get ice cream after."

"Yeah, you didn't get ice cream after." Jay took a deep breath. "You almost killed me!"

You rolled your eyes. "I'm going in the water to cool off. Maybe it is best that you guys stay here. But, I mean, Gabby's here and I hope to God Will knows CPR because he's a doctor and that you cops do, too."

Once Will saw that you weren't focused on him and Jay anymore, he turned to his little brother. "Hey, how old was dad when he kinda, you know, clocked out on parenting us?"

"Early high school," Jay answered. "Why are you...oh shit, Y/N."

"Yeah, Y/N," Will reiterated. "And, we had Mom, so it wasn't that bad. But, she doesn't have that."

"She's got us," Jay said. "That's gotta count for something."

A/N: I was going to post this last night, but I almost fell asleep while editing, so it's coming out now. Anyway, not sure how I feel about this one, but I got it done, so that's all that matters. Thank you for reading! Please vlike/reblog and comment and tell me what you think! As always, if you want to be added to the taglist, just comment that you want to be added down below. PS: That story about chickens being dropped into the courtyard at school, yeah my older cousin did that for his senior prank and the lookout got caught and they had to do community service to walk at graduation.

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e 

[let-the-dream-begin]

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 23: You Could Be

Chapter 22

Read on AO3

The rest of the week following Claire and Jamie’s second date passed rather hectically  (they had decided to refer to it as such, even though Faith was there for half of it). Jamie had left on Wednesday night around one o’clock in the morning, Claire having fallen asleep close to the end of the movie. She’d garbled something unintelligible when Michael killed Fredo, something that she’d translated for him later to have meant: “Fucking traitor.”

He’d let her sleep, and when Claire had chided him about it, told him he should have woken her so they could talk or something, he’d just shrugged and said:

“Ye looked so bloody peaceful, mo nighean donn. Drool on my shoulder and all.”

That earned him a swat to the arm.

“I mean it. Holding ye while ye slept, not a care in the world…was like Heaven on Earth.”

That earned him a very generous kiss.

After saying goodnight, Claire collapsed into bed happy as a clam, and then the chaos began. She opened her eyes to Faith standing right next to her in bed, a la the twins in The Shining, and she’d nearly jumped out of her skin. The girl had proceeded to crawl right into bed with Claire, whining in protest when Claire’s alarm started going off. Claire tried to hold her off as long as possible, but when Mrs. Lickett knocked on the door and they were still in bed, she knew they were in trouble. The poor woman had to pry Faith off of Claire just so she could get ready for work, and she screamed her little head off the whole time. For some reason, Faith did not want Mummy going to work today, and did not want to be left with poor Mrs. Lickett.

There was no rhyme or reason to when Faith got in these moods; she just decided some days that Mummy was not going to leave. And, of course, with Claire’s chosen profession, she did not have the option to oblige her. Perhaps that was for the best; Mrs. Lickett did say they couldn’t always indulge her. But God, if it wouldn’t get her fired, Claire would get right back into bed and hold her baby until she calmed down, and she might never leave again.

Still hearing Faith scream even through the front door and then her car door, Claire finally shed a few overwrought, panicked tears. She glanced tearily at her phone in her bag, thinking to call Jamie, then talked herself out of it.

He doesn’t need to hear every time you’re going crazy, Beauchamp.

She put the key in the ignition, then caught sight of Faith in the window, slamming her palms on the glass, both Mrs. Lickett and Angus trying to talk some sense into her. And then she couldn’t stop herself.

She opened his contact and pressed the call button, put the phone on speaker, and put it in a pocket in the door before pulling out of the driveway. As the phone rang, she sniffled and swallowed thickly, even though she knew that her voice would give her away immediately. It rang for a while, and Claire immediately felt dread in the pit of her stomach, thinking he must be asleep. The stables didn’t open until ten, and she had him over until one. 

Idiot.

Before she could panic-hang-up, it stopped ringing.

“Everything alright, Sassenach?”

“Oh,” she said stupidly, putting on her turn signal to get on the main road. “Hi, yes, everything is fine.”

“Are ye crying, Sassenach?” His voice was alert.

“No, I’m — I’m fine. I’m so sorry I woke you, I had you up so late — ”

“Forget that. I’m an early bird. What’s wrong?” It was gentle, soft, but insistent. He was not going to let her let this go.

Claire sighed. “Really, nothing is wrong. Not really. I’m just driving to work. And it’s already been…a day.”

“How’s that?” 

So gentle.

“Faith did not want me to leave this morning. She just gets like that sometimes, doesn’t want me to go, doesn’t want to do anything Mrs. Lickett has planned for the day. She was screaming her poor head off and she didn’t even want anything to do with Angus, at least while I was there. I didn’t even get a chance to eat anything and I’m already getting a headache.” She chuckled nervously, wiping her eyes with one hand, keeping one on the wheel. “Sorry…I’m rambling.”

“Dinna be sorry, Claire. I’m sorry ye had a rough morning. And I’m sorry fer the wee lass. She misses ye when ye’re gone sometimes, eh?”

“Yeah…” she sighed sadly. “I suppose she does. She used to do it a lot more; there would be a meltdown every day I left the house. Every time I think she’s outgrown it, it comes back full force. And I just feel…awful just…leaving her like that. And I can’t call off for something that isn’t an emergency. I just can’t. And I…”

“Claire.”

She paused, having a feeling he was about to say something.

“Ye’re a good mam, Claire.”

She bit down on her lip fiercely, nearly losing sight of the road as her eyes watered. 

“I ken ye dinna feel that way when ye have to leave her every day, and I canna imagine how that feels. But ye’re no’ the only mam that works, and it doesna matter that ye’re a single parent, either.”

Claire sniffled again, haphazardly wiping her eyes. “I just…I know that I do so much for her. I do know that. But on days like today…it just feels like I’ll never be enough, like I’ll never be able to give her everything she needs.”

“Christ, Sassenach, ye’re more than enough. Ye have to know that. Ye have to work to give her those things she needs. Ye have to know that, too. Ye’re doing the best ye can, and it’s great. Ye’re a good mother.”

Claire sniffled again, quite loudly, and she almost laughed at how gross she must have sounded on his end. “Thank you, Jamie. I don’t even know what to say.”

“Nothing at all is just fine.”

She pulled into the employee parking lot of the hospital, and she sighed heavily. “I’m…I’m sorry again to have woken you up like this — ”

“No apologies, mo nighean donn — ”

“And I’m sorry I have to go so soon; I’m already running late and I’m sure I’m going to be reamed — ”

“No need to explain yerself. Hang up the phone, get yerself calmed down, and get in there and save some lives. Aye?”

Claire laughed as she pulled into her spot. “Nothing like a pep-talk from coach Fraser to get me in the zone.”

He laughed as well. “Glad to hear it.”

Claire took the key out of the ignition and picked up her phone. “Thank you again, Jamie. Really. This was…more helpful than I can even explain.”

“No explanation needed. I get it. I mean I don’t get it-get it. But I…I understand.”

“Right.” She smiled fondly at his carefulness to not even imply that he really knew what it was like while still ensuring her that he understood her. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Aye. Let me know if she’s alright when ye go home. I hope work isna too rough on ye today.”

“I will. Thanks. Goodbye, Jamie.”

“G’bye, mo ghraidh.”

She hung up and held her phone to her chest for a moment, closing her eyes and breathing deeply.

You’re fine, Beauchamp.

You’re a good mum, and a good doctor.

It was hard to believe even as she said it to herself, but she was at least able to get out of the car, checking how much of a wreck she was briefly in the rear-view mirror.

The day was just as hectic as it would be on an already bad day, and Claire was dead on her feet by the time she got to the break room, having not even had time for the shitty coffee it had to offer when she’d arrived. She collapsed in the chair nearest the door, pressing her eyes into her hand and watching the colors and shapes dance around in her head for a moment.

“Earth to Lady Jane.”

She inhaled sharply and picked her head up, finding Joe standing by the counter.

“Don’t fall asleep on me without getting a load of this.”

“What…?” She reluctantly heaved herself out of her chair and trudged toward the counter where Joe was smirking at a brown paper bag and a styrofoam coffee cup that did not belong to the hospital.

“What’s this…?” Claire said.

“Been here all morning. Louise said a very attractive redhead dropped it off for Doctor Beauchamp.”

Claire felt her face melt into the most ridiculously liquid smile. “He did not…”

She opened the bag to find a napkin sitting on top with writing scrawled in black pen:

Sassenach,

Got ye a BEC (that’s bacon egg and cheese) since you didn’t have breakfast. Plain bagel since I don’t know your preference (remind me to ask you that). Figured you forgot to pack lunch as well, so I got you a deli sandwich I thought you’d like. That coffee reheated is still better than the shite in your break room, I promise ye that. Good deli; I’m good friends with the owner. Great guy. Have to take you someday.

Hope this helps,

JAMMF

Claire shook her head in disbelief, handing Joe the napkin to read.

“Damn,” he said. “That man is too much.”

Claire pulled out her BEC and unwrapped it, melting into a nearby chair as she ate. Joe popped her coffee into the microwave for her and sat down next to her.

“Too much indeed,” Claire garbled, mouth full of food. “He’s too good to be true.”

“But it’s true, Lady Jane.” He patted her knee.

“Yeah…” She smiled dreamily. “It is.”

——

Saturday was another date-night, or rather date-afternoon. They went to see The Free State of Jones at the movie theater since it had been out for about a month and Jamie had been wanting to see it. Evidently, Jamie was more of a history buff than Claire had picked up on, and she thoroughly enjoyed watching him absorb the movie, and she also enjoyed the movie quite a lot herself. She knew next to nothing about the American Civil War aside from what was to be seen in Gone With the Wind.

They'd managed to keep kissing to a minimum in the theater, but they weren't completely prudish. There were, after all, only eight other people in the entire theater, and they were spread out enough that they managed to share a few lingering kisses. But outside of that, they actually watched the movie, and Claire did not fall asleep.

“I didna bore ye wi' my long movie this time, Sassenach?” Jamie teased as they left the building.

“Oh, don't even. I worked all day Wednesday, and it was past my bedtime,” Claire shot back. “And besides, I still retained what happened. I just retained this movie…better.”

Jamie tossed back his head in a barking laugh as they got into his car. He brought her to a pizzeria, and the man behind the counter cried out with joy to see Jamie.

“Hey! It's Fraser!”

“Hallo, Vinny,” Jamie called back, putting his hand on the small of Claire's back.

“And who is this?” the dark-haired, red-faced man asked.

“This,” Jamie flashed a smile at Claire, swelling with pride, “is my girlfriend. Claire Beauchamp.”

“A girlfriend!” Vinny boomed. “Hey! Luca!” He shouted at the door that Claire presumed led to the kitchen. His New York-Italian accent increased dramatically when he yelled. “Fraser’s got a girl here!”

Claire felt herself blushing fiercely, and Vinny reached over the glass display of pizza slices to shake her hand.

“Great to meet you, Claire.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Claire answered, shaking his hand.

“Ha!” Vinny laughed heartily, squeezing her hand and giving it another shake. “What’d ya do? Send for her from across the ocean?”

Jamie joined him in laughter. “She found me, actually. Her Englishness is a complete coincidence.”

“My daughter is a client at Harmony Stables,” Claire chimed in. “That’s how we met.”

“Oh! Well I’ll be damned! Hey! Luca! Get out here!” He yelled back again unexpectedly, causing Claire to jump a little. “Goddamn, Fraser, look at her!”

“Aye, I ken.” Claire blushed fiercely as Jamie swelled with pride again, squeezing her shoulder and pressing her into his side. “I’m a lucky man.”

“Ya gotta bring your daughter here sometime. I’d love to meet her,” Vinny said, leaning against the counter. “I know most of those kids already, but I think I’d remember you.”

Claire smiled.

“Vinny’s is where we get the pizza fer events,” Jamie explained. “All the kids know him by name.”

“Oh! Well then I’m already a happy customer,” Claire said with a chuckle.

“What’s her name?” Vinny asked.

“Faith.”

“Beautiful! Ya gotta bring her by, I just love those kids — ”

Just then, the kitchen doors opened, and a man who could have been a second Vinny burst in, apparently Luca.

“Well I’ll be damned!”

Claire chuckled to herself; they even said the same words in the same exact way.

“Where the hell did you find her?” Luca said.

“This is my brother, Luca. Vincent Senior is our old man. He’s around sometimes, just not today,” Vinny explained. “This is Claire Beauchamp. From England.”

“Great to meet you! Whatsamatter, couldn’t find a girl around here?” Luca ribbed, shaking Claire’s hand.

“Ye need original content, Luca,” Jamie said. “Yer brother said the same thing.”

“Alright, alright, enough gawking at the poor thing,” Vinny interrupted. “What can I get for ya?”

“The usual fer me,” Jamie said. “How about you, Sassenach?”

“What’s your usual?” she asked.

“Buffalo chicken slice.”

She wrinkled her nose at him.

“Yucking someone else’s yum again?” He cocked a brow at her, and she rolled her eyes.

“Do you have a meat lover’s slice? Something like that?”

“Sure do.”

“Alright, I’ll have that.”

“Anything to drink?”

“Just water for me,” Claire said.

“Ginger ale fer me,” Jamie said.

Claire pulled out her wallet.

“What are ye doing?”

“Paying for our lunch.”

“Sassenach — ”

“Jamie, you paid for that obscenely expensive food last week, and the carnival tickets, and you bought all the ingredients for that bloody lasagna. Not to mention today’s movie. Let me pay for one thing. I’m a doctor for Christ’s sake, it’s not as if I can’t afford some bloody pizza.”

Without another word, Claire handed Vinny her credit card, and Jamie did not try to fight her. Vinny’s brows were nearly at his hairline, and he was clearly fighting the urge to grin.

“I like this one, Fraser!” Luca called, shoveling their slices into the oven before departing into the kitchen.

Claire tried to hide her smirk of pride as she signed the receipt.

“So you’re a doctor?” Vinny said. “Stony Brook?”

“Yes, Emergency Medicine,” Claire said proudly. “Still a residency, but yes.”

“Goddamn, Fraser,” Vinny said again, shaking his head as he returned Claire’s card. “Don’t you even think about letting this one go.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Jamie winked, and then led Claire to a table.

“So, are you friends with every small business owner on Long Island?” Claire asked, flashing a glance at Vinny.

“Not every…but a fair amount,” he said. “Sorry about that, by the way. I should’ve warned ye that they’d be…curious. About my having a lass wi’ me.”

She chuckled. “That’s alright. They’re fun.”

“Didna scare ye away?”

“Not at all.” She laced their fingers together on the table.

They began discussing the movie and all the tangents it brought up, and then Vinny came by with their individual slices. Claire should have realized that Jamie would have ordered two slices; she didn’t even notice on her receipt.

“How you can eat neon orange on pizza is beyond me,” she said, watching him take a bite.

“Dinna like spicy, Sassenach?”

“I didn’t say that,” she said. “Buffalo chicken is a chicken wing flavor, not a pizza flavor. Two worlds that should not collide.”

He made an amused Scottish noise and took another bite. “So ye like buffalo wings then?”

“I’ve been known to handle a few.”

“We’ll have to test that someday.”

She hummed in amusement, and then dug into her own slice. Jamie was finished with both of his slices before Claire was finished with her one slice, even though she could tell he’d been trying to pace himself to be polite. Before they left, Claire ordered a plain slice for Faith to eat when she got home, since it would be dinner time shortly. Faith didn’t mind an off-routine early dinner if she was getting something special like pizza. Jamie also ordered them Italian ices, lemon for him and rainbow for Claire, and she caught him trying to pay for the ices and Faith’s dinner. One look was enough to have him putting his wallet back in his pocket, and this time, Vinny did laugh out loud.

With an aggressively friendly slap on Jamie's shoulder, Vinny bid them farewell, and they headed back to Claire's apartment. Though Faith was normally over the moon at the return of her mother (especially if she had Jamie with her), she remained entirely nonplussed at their arrival, entirely too focused on the puzzle she was doing with Delia. It wasn't until Claire said the word “pizza” that Faith sprung up from the coffee table and started pawing at her mother’s legs.

“That’s what I thought,” Claire said with a chuckle. “Yes, I know.” Faith reached up for the pizza and moaned in annoyance as Claire held it higher. “Pizza after you say goodbye to your friend and to Auntie Gail.”

Faith screwed up her face in protest, making exaggerated whining noises, but Claire just stared her down. “Stop whining, and be polite. Say goodbye.”

Faith turned around and gave Delia a reluctant hug, which Claire had to remind Faith to be gentle with in her reluctance. She hugged Gail with the same begrudging attitude, and then she began tugging on Claire’s shirt to pull her into the kitchen.

Claire looked back and forth between Faith and Gail and Delia.

“Jamie, can you go with her?” She handed him the box containing Faith’s slice, and he nodded wordlessly.

“C’mon lass. Let’s get ye settled fer supper.”

Claire shook her head in exasperation as she thanked Gail for babysitting once again, and then saw them off outside. By the time she got back to the kitchen, Faith was already sitting at the table with her pizza slice shaped plate, Jamie nearly finished cutting up the slice.

“How did you know about the pizza plate?” Claire said, amused.

“Well, I tried putting it on a normal plate, and she wasna having that. Tried one of those princess plates I ken ye’ve got, didna work either. Then she dragged me to the cabinet and wouldna move ’til I found this.” He finished cutting the pizza, having kept the general shape of it to fit the shape of the plate.

Claire’s grin was unabashedly enormous, and she closed the gap between them, meeting him behind Faith’s chair.

“Excellent work, detective.” He smirked, and she leaned in to kiss him, emboldened by Faith’s lack of attention, focused as she was on eating her pizza. Jamie hummed with amused contentment into the kiss, causing a brief vibrating sensation against her lips.

Jamie trailed his fingertips up over her hips to rest on the small of her back, pointedly avoiding her arse. Claire groaned in annoyance, but grinned anyway, pulling away to rest their foreheads together, draping her arms around his neck. For a moment, they just swayed absently to the music of Faith’s humming to the tune of “Someday My Prince Will Come,” not skipping a beat even as she chewed.

It wasn’t long at all before Faith pushed her plate away and hoisted herself up onto her knees, turning around to stand on the chair and tap on both of their heads. They both laughed softly.

“All done, lovie?” Claire took her hands off Jamie so she could sign. “All done?”

Faith repeated the sign lazily, and Claire was about to correct her when she started jumping in the chair, pointing at the freezer.

“Woah! Careful there, lass. Remember what Mam said about climbing, aye?” Without thinking, Jamie scooped her up from under her arms, lifted her over the back of the chair, and deposited her safely onto the ground.

Claire thought absolutely nothing of it, starting to head over to the freezer for Faith’s ice cream, but then Jamie froze. He drew away from Faith quickly yet gently, looking up at Claire, absolutely mortified.

“I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I should have asked. I’ve no right tae just pick her up like that. I’m sorry, Claire.”

Faith was none the wiser; she flitted over to the freezer.

“Jamie,” Claire said quickly, reaching for his hands. “She’s fine.” She maintained eye contact to emphasize her point, but the worry between his furrowed brows would not ease. “She’s been letting you touch her for a while now. That was perfectly normal for her. And perfectly natural for you to do it.”

“Are ye…are ye sure…?”

Claire still held his gaze as she raised his hands to her lips and kissed them fervently. “She trusts you, Jamie.”

Faith gave a small shout then, apparently not at all pleased that her request for ice cream was going ignored for so long.

“You ok?” Claire asked.

“Aye, sorry,” he chuckled. “Wee panic over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” Claire left his side to open the freezer, and Faith began bouncing with joy. “It makes perfect sense that you’d be afraid to cross that boundary with her. But I think in her head, you’re already past that point.”

She reached into the cabinet for a bowl and then the drawer for a spoon.

“I, uh…” Jamie stammered. “Hadna realized, I suppose.”

“You really don’t know how special you are to her? — Yes, yes, go sit down.” Claire crossed the kitchen to put down the ice cream in Faith’s spot.

“I suppose I…hoped. But I never wanted to assume,” Jamie said sheepishly. “I ken ye say I’m ‘dating’ ye both, but I didna ken if she…knew that.”

Claire chuckled softly, caressing Faith’s curly head as her spoon clanked against her bowl. “I think she does.”

Jamie’s grin widened lopsidedly, and Claire had to physically restrain herself from jumping into his arms and kissing him senseless.

“Ye’ll tell me, though? If I need to pull back wi’ her?”

“I think she would tell you, loud and clear,” Claire said dryly, her eyes full of mirth. “No, I know what you mean. And yes, I would. Surely it’s not the same with you as it is for me where you can just snatch her like I have to sometimes. It’s a bit different, as…”

“Her parent,” Jamie finished for her, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah.”

“Believe me, I understand. I ken I’m no’ her parent.”

Claire’s stomach flipped; not at what he said, but at what her brain decided to say after he said it.

You could be.

“Right,” she said instead, internally yelling back at herself that she was a nutter for thinking something so bloody serious about a man who she’d gone on a first date with a week ago. “But you’re…building something different, special in its own way. You both need time before you have to start laying down the law like I have to.”

“Aye, I understand.”

“But,” Claire said, finally making her way over to him and taking his hands again. “You can pick her up if it looks like she wants you to, you can hold her hand, hug her, whatever it seems she wants from you.” Jamie nodded, his eyes lighting up. “You read her well enough at this point. You’ll know.”

“Aye. I will.”

Claire pecked him gently. When she pulled away, Jamie was not looking at her, but instead looking out of the corner of his eye. When Claire followed his gaze, she caught Faith flitting out of the kitchen, hands and face still smeared with chocolate ice cream.

“Oh no you don’t!” Claire rushed to snatch Faith by the wrist and drag her back into the kitchen and toward the sink. “There will be no watching any movie that gets smothered with ice cream.”

Faith squirmed in annoyance and tried to get away, and then Claire got an idea.

“Hey, hey, listen, Faith,” she said. “Why doesn’t Jamie help you wash your hands? Hm?”

She looked up to Jamie, and he immediately sprang into action. “Right, how does that sound, lass?”

Faith immediately stopped fighting, and she turned around to face Jamie, holding up her messy hands expectantly. Jamie chuckled and turned on the water, then lifted her under the arms so she could reach the running water.

“Very good, give them a good scrub,” he crooned, and she obeyed clumsily. “Give yer face a good scrub too, aye? Dinna want chocolate-mouth fer yer movie. Aye, good girl.”

Claire stood there against the counter, paper towel ready for drying, her heart swelling three sizes.

How could I ever have thought we’d be better off without him…?

So occupied she was with adoration, she nearly missed when Faith was back on the ground and Jamie turned off the taps.

“Good job, Faithie,” Claire said, crouching down to wipe her face clean of any more smudges, using the lingering water on her face, then dried her hands. “Alright, all done. Let’s pick a movie, shall we?”

They shifted into the living room, where Faith retrieved Monsters, Inc., and they settled into their usual positions. Claire didn’t have a shift this week that ended early enough for Jamie to have time to come over and make dinner before Faith’s bedtime, so they were getting in their movie time tonight. Since dinner was a bit earlier than normal, the movie also ended a bit earlier than normal. They finished the puzzle that Faith hadn’t finished with Delia, then started and finished another one, all while Faith’s music played from Claire’s phone, with the occasional interruption for a little dance.

When bedtime rolled around, Jamie said goodnight to Faith, earning a pat on the cheek before she scurried off. After the whole routine, Claire poured them drinks and nuzzled into him on the couch. She flicked Netflix on and let The Office start playing from a random episode in the middle of season three.

“Ye’re like a wee kitten,” Jamie said.

“What?” She craned her neck to pick her head up from its spot on his chest.

“The way ye’re stretched out and balled up at the same time, all over me.”

Claire made an indignant little “hmph” sound, but made no attempt to move; she, in fact, buried herself in further.

“I hope you’re at least a cat person,” she said.

He made an amused Scottish noise. “More of a dog person, really. No’ those wee yapping ones; I need a beast wi’ more substance. Like Angus. That’s a fine creature.”

Claire scoffed indignantly, sitting up and facing him. “So you tell me I’m a kitten and then tell me you don’t like cats.”

“Didna say I didna like ’em.”

“You may as well have.”

“Och, Sassenach.” He leaned in, his lips lingering inches from hers. “Ye ken by now I like having ye on top of me, feline or no.”

He made to close the gap, to kiss her, but Claire leaned back, causing him to chase after her and open his eyes when he didn’t make contact. Claire laughed at the unconscious pout he made. “What on Earth ever made me think you were the smoothest talker I ever met?”

“Dinna ken about that. My foot ends up in my mouth quite more than I’d care to admit.”

“Hm. Indeed.”

“I’d much rather…” He moved in closer, and Claire had no further to go, stuck against the arm of the couch. “Have something else in my mouth.”

“Oh?” She raised a brow, then darted her tongue out to lick her lips, far too slowly. “What could that be?”

He growled possessively and claimed her lips with his, and she moaned lightly against them. She did not waste any time before obliging him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and mingling it with his. They lingered like this for a moment, performing the carefully and repeatedly rehearsed dance of lips and tongue, then they parted, Jamie folding her into himself again. They focused lazily on the tellie for a bit before Jamie broke the silence.

“Ye ever seen the beaches around here, Sassenach?”

“No, actually. Seems silly after how long I’ve been here now.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I was just thinking about my own family dogs running around on the beaches in Scotland — ”

“So now you were thinking of dogs while kissing me?”

“And I — Och, come off it.” He playfully swatted her arse, causing her to squeak and swat him back, directly on his left pectoral. “I was thinking that it would be nice to take Faith. She likes the water, aye?”

“Yes, she’s obsessed, ever since she was a baby. Bath time is a field day. Ever since I took her to the Abernathy’s pool that one time, every time Gail comes over Faith scurries into her room for her bathing suit.”

Jamie laughed softly. “She kens what she wants.”

“Indeed.”

“So…what d’ye think? Would she be alright if there was a crowd?”

“Well…we won’t know unless we try. And Angus is helpful during stable events. So maybe she’ll be alright.”

“Aye, he’s a service dog so he’ll be allowed on any beach we choose.”

Claire got an image in her head of Faith squishing sand in her hands, loving the sensory aspect of it, squealing as cold water rushed over her toes.

“If she canna handle it we’ll have a backup plan. We can take her to the stables and use the sprinkler from the Fourth of July. Fill a kiddie pool or something.”

Claire felt warmth spread from head to toe. He knew without having to ask that even if Faith didn’t want to be at the beach, if she was in her bathing suit, she’d be expecting a water activity and would not be happy doing anything else.

She sat up and tenderly kissed his check, caressing his stubbled chin and jaw. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

He smiled and took her caressing hand in both of his, then kissed her knuckles. “Alright. That’s braw. I ken most of the beaches, so I ken the ones that are most crowded, the ones that play loud live music, which ones have sand or rocks. Faith’ll want sand, of course.”

She smiled, nodding. “Right.”

“Next Saturday? I’ll prepare the lunches, you prepare the bairn and the dog?”

“Yes, okay. That’s perfect.”

Seemingly from sheer excitement nearly bubbling over, Jamie kissed her soundly.

“I’ll start preparing her starting tomorrow, give her a rundown of the routine — ”

“I’ll arrive at nine to pick ye both up — ”

“Great, I can tell her what time she needs to wake up, what time breakfast needs to be finished, what time she needs to dress and lotion up — ”

“Have her bring her tablet in the car, the beach I have in mind is an hour away — ”

“I’ll lay some towels on the living room floor, and we’ll practice staying on the towel so maybe she won’t bolt while we’re there — ”

“Fine idea. That’s braw.”

They were talking over each other, stumbling over their words like a couple of school children talking about recess. They shook their heads at themselves, then shared another kiss, lingering with their foreheads together.

“D’ye think it’ll ever stop?”

“What?”

“This…feeling. Like I’m…gonna burst at the thought of seeing ye again, even when ye’re still right in front of me.”

Claire pulled away only enough so that she could meet his eye and caress his chin.

“I don't know. But I hope it never does.”

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

✨ Seven days of:

DAY #1.

✨ REQUEST: Congrats again on the 1000k, a testament to your awesome writing. Could I request bishop on a first date with a single Mother please ❤️

✨ MADE BY: @narfea

WORDS: about 1.5k

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted ❤

❚❙ OBISPO ‘BISHOP’ LOSA MASTERLIST.

❚❙ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ JOIN MY TAG LIST.

It's the first time in years that you have a date, and you would be lying if you say that you aren't nervous, turning around in front of the mirror to check again how good that tight black dress fits your body. At first you were reticent to the idea, but Bishop has been insisting since he met you two months ago. When you threw over him a coffee, after being pushed by a rude customer in the cafeteria you work at.

Ready, sweetly perfumed and grabbing your bag and your jacket, you step out to the living room. Your five years old son is eating pizza on the sofa, while watching a cartoon movie on TV. You're worried of leaving him there, even if Grace is going to take care of him. She knows exactly where to find you in case something happened.

“Matt”. You call him, kneeling close to him. “Behave as the good little man you are, okay?”

“Yeah, mom. Have fun”. Wrapping your neck with his tiny arms, he leaves a short kiss in your lips.

“Te amo, mi chiquito”. You mumble, poking the tip of his nose.

Walking out of your house, by holding Bishop's arm, you can't help but feel excited for having some time with him with a bar between both and an awful boss with his eyes on you the whole shift. The man is happy too, showing it to you through the grin constantly installed on his face, guiding you to the black car stationed in front of your sidewalk. The moment he opens you the door, you know that he's pretty different from what you had heard about El Presidente of Mayans.

“Thank you”. You mumble for a second, taking a seat on the copilot place.

Talking about your day and some funny situation you have been through today, Bishop drives to the surrounds of Santo Padre, where a new mexican restaurant has opened a few weeks ago, close to the border.

It's such a nice place decorated with lights of all colors and typical stuff from Mexico, like poncho, big sparrow hats, katrinas and a lot of bottles of Don Julio. It has a huge and wide terrace, a crowded one with people from all around the both sides of the border, enjoying their dinner while talking. A bartender brings you to the booked table by Bishop on the last day, helping you to sit like a gentleman before taking a place in front of you.

“You like the site?”

“Yeah! It's really… beautiful. And it's the first time in, I don't know, like years that I don't have some time for me”. You confess them, while he intertwines his fingers with yours over the table. “Thank you. You know… for the date”.

“You don't have to. Sounds like I'm not going to have fun”.

His laugh infects you, shaking your head slightly before being interrupted by the same bartender, who has led you to your table minutes ago.

It's amazing how easy it is to open yourself to him, just like Bishop does. Since you sat there, you haven't stopped talking about everything. Work, hobbies, life, concerns about existence… You're not only discovering things about him, nice ones you must say, but about you too. Matt's father never let you talk this much, usually getting bored of whatever you like to speak about, or simply telling you not now, or I don't want to hear your shit. You have always felt off with him, until one day you decided to end that life of silence, of feeling small by his side, of living inhibited.

Now, it seems like you have a new opportunity with another man. A man who is respectful, who cares about you, about your son. A man who really looks like he wants to be with you. And even if you tried hard to not make illusions about it, you couldn't help it. You couldn't help but imagine how it would be to live under the same roof. How would be seeing Matt growing up with someone like Bishop.

But what feels like the perfect night is suspended by an unexpected call from Grace.

“Don't be scared, okay?”

You are already scared.

“Matt has fallen from the stairs. He's okay. He just has a bump, but we're in the hospital”.

Everything after that last word happens too fast. Bishop pays the bill and takes you to the car parked outside, driving quickly to the center town. Running through the hallways and dodging other people there, you find the waiting area.

Your son is sitting on Grace's lap, licking a lollipop and with his eyes reddened after crying. Throwing the sweet to the floor, he jumps to it to run towards you. Raising him up between your arms, you hold your kid against your chest as tight as you can.

“You okay, mijo?”

The man places a hand on the back of Matt's head, gently caressing it. He nods ashamed, resting his cheek against your chest.

“Does it hurt, baby?”

Your son shakes his head this time, wrapping your neck with his arms covered by his pajamas. You can see Bishop taking off his jacket to put it over him, showing you a sincere smile, before going to talk with Grace.

“I'm sorry, mama”.

“It's okay, baby, don't worry”. You sigh, leaving a soft kiss on his temple.

You feel bad for the man, having failed to enjoy the night you promised him. Having to act like your chofer, to bring you back home. And you feel bad for the illusions you have made, breaking into pieces inside you. You don't blame Matt, or Grace. You couldn't and it wouldn't be fair. You blame yourself, being aware that you were the one who should be taking care of your son. Because, yes, that could happen to you two, but you wouldn't drag anyone else to it.

After tucking Matt in bed and waiting for him to be asleep, you leave his door half-closed, coming back downstairs to the living room. Bishop is having a look at your photographs together, around the years, around California and that time you went to Disney.

“He is finally sleeping”. You say, calling his attention.

“He feels good?”

Pressing your lips, you shrug your shoulders.

“Listen… I'm so sorry about what happened. It's okay if you… don't wanna call me again, I would tot—”.

“And miss another adventure in the hospital?” He chuckles interrupting you, tilting his neck to a side. “This has been by far the best date I have ever had”.

You know he's just trying to add some humor to the night and you also know he's just trying to make you feel better, but that doesn't change the fact that you're aware he's not going to call you again, or to propose to you a second date.

“I have to leave, got to wake up early tomorrow”.

“Okay”.

With a hand on the back of your neck and another holding yours, he places his lips on your left cheek. A kiss that feels like a goodbye. Even if he shows you a last smile, you can't help but feel sad seeing him leaving your house.

Sitting on your sofa and pressing a cushion against your face, you let the tears filling your eyes wet the fabric. You don't want to wake up Matt, you don't want to make him feel bad for something that wasn't his fault.

Knocking on his door and opening it to find him reading a comic on his bed, you come in to caress his hair.

“Lunch is ready, baby”.

Tossing it over the mattress, he jumps off from it, to follow you to the kitchen. The bump is less swollen and he hasn't complained about it yet. Putting his plate full of macaroni with tomato and cheese in front of his face, you're about to sit too when the doorbell rings. Weirded out, you go to the entrance to attend the call by opening it.

Bishop turns around, taking off the sunglasses from his eyes, with a gentle smile drawn on his lips. You're surprised. And he's confused because of that.

“Can I come in?”

“Ye—Yeah”. You answer, taking some steps back to give him more space.

“How's him?”

“Feeling better. We just… started to eat lunch. Do you… wanna stay?”

You don't understand why he has come, but you're feeling again the tickles in your belly when he nods closing the door.

“Without counting yesterday, I'm not sure when it was the last time I ate something decent”.

Leaning towards you, he kisses your cheek again like last night. But this time, it feels different. It feels like you really have a second choice. And you can't help but hug him, with your arms around his middle back. Bishop chuckles embracing you without doubting, kissing your forehead before you hide your face under his chin.

“I was being serious last night, querida. I wouldn't let someone like you escape from me”.

[spiltscribbles]

You're doing prompts! Yesss you have no idea how happy that makes me cause I love you're writing so so so much its so amazing soo yayyyyyy 🥳🥳 can I request prompt 32? Things you said I wouldn't understand. Maybe some wolfstar? I'm just a slut for your fics so I would probably die if you wrote this. Even if you don't that's fine I never wanna pressure you soo yeah love you 💕💕

~Notes: Gorgeous, this message is literally so fucking kind and I am absolutely SOBBING!!!! You are such a fucking gorgeous soul! And this means the galaxy! And I’m sorry! This screams angst, but I had a really really fucking awful day, so I just wanted to escape with some fluff :( But if you want me to redo I promise I will! Or you can send me another prompt and I’ll write angst! I adore you!!!

.-

A Reblog Is Worth A Thousand Stars  »  Send Me A Prompt  » Things You Said That I Couldn’t Understand

.-

Sirius realizes on an ordinary Tuesday morning as he spills the chocolate chips into the batter of the first batch of flapjacks, that he and his husband of over a decade haven’t had a date night for three months.

Three! Ruddy! Months!

THat’s completely not on! especially considering that now that the twins have entered their terrible twos they’ve barely had any energy at all  to go beyond furtive hand jobs and messy kisses in almost just as long. Sirius misses his bloody husband damn it!

“Daddy?” Angelica asks with owlish eyes  from where she and her younger brother, Teddy, are standing on either side of him with their expectant  plates in hand. “You look peaky.”

“Like you’re gonna puke,” Teddy tacks on helpfully, his ordinarily tawny curls  turning a putrid shade of  green just to emphasize his point. And Sirius silently reminds himself to tell Tonks off for teaching his kid such rude gestures once she gets back from her honeymoon with that Muggle bird of hers.

“Oi, you guys are going to make your old man feel like he’s the Hogwarts squid if you keep on.” Sirius tells them with a soft tug on Angelica’s ponytail and a cluck of a tongue directed towards his son.

“You’re father’s probably still just getting use to the time difference after getting back from the states.”

Sirius straightens up— pulse spiking in that way it always has around Remus ever since they had first begun to go out as fifth years— and spots him padding into the kitchen, beautifully sleep rumpled and cradling a babbling Maeve in one arm, while her twin, Matthew, toddles along side them with a meaty thumb in his mouth. Though he immediately begins sprinting towards Sirius once realizing that he’s finally home from teaching those Americans the newly enhanced defense tactics that the British Aurors have been utilizing to successful degrees.

“THere’s my Matty,” he crows, lifting him up in the air and blowing a raspberry into his belly while the toddler squawks with glee.

“Daddy home! Daddy! Daddy!”

“And he brings with him enough noise to rival the frog choir,” Remus notes absently.

Sirius waggles his tongue over at him, heart stuttering when he watches the morning sun spilling through the wide partition and unspooling golden in Remus’s hair. “You need it, gorgeous, considering you couldn’t wake up to your own ruddy alarm.”

Remus smiles in that abashed way that’s always been more devious than most give him credit for, “It’s the seventh year Ravenclaws, I think they will actually end up giving me an aneurism with how much extra they write in the essays.”

“Alas, I’m too pretty to be a widow,” Sirius sighs, tossing Matthew up in the air once more and cradling him into  his arm before walking over to Remus and dipping down to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I’ve missed you.”

“You could’ve woken me up you know,” Remus mumbles, shifting from foot to foot while sliding Maeve into her high chair. “The moon’s not til tomorrow night.”

Sirius ducks his head, scratching the back of it with appropriate diffidence. “I just didn’t want to disturb you, love.”

Remus doesn’t catch his eye as he begins to walk over to the counter and brings the other portions of the meal to the table, lips pinched and shoulders stiff. “I’m not a total invalid, Sirius. I could welcome my husband home after a week apart.”

“What’s that mean, Tad?” Teddy asks, oblivious to the undercurrent of hurt in his father’s tone and  energetic as always while scrambling into his own seat around the breakfast nook, wide eyes glowing with that easy mirth that Sirius is thankful every day his children can feel without any lingering ghosts. “A, erm— In—valvid."

“It means your Tad’s a bit brassed off at me, Ted.” Sirius answers for him, affecting a light hearted cadence. "And that I better get round to finishing up breakfast or else he’ll give me that stiff upper lip of his.”

Remus pins him with a glare from over his shoulder while Sirius sets Matthew into his own seat besides his sister, but his features are softened and Sirius knows that it means he’s close to being forgiven.

“Daddy can I have blueberries in mine,” Angelica asks as he returns to the oven.

“Course, jellybean,” Sirius answers, adopting the pet name that Hope had called her granddaughter ever since they had brought her back from the hospital eight years ago. Sirius loved it even more once finding out that it was actually a reference to some sort of Muggle treat that Remus use to eat by the handfuls as a lad.

“OmyChocomydadzee,” Ted yells towards them with a wedge of cheese in his mouth before sticking his fork into the plate of sliced fruit so to waggle it in front of a giggling Maeve.

“Sorry, son, I don’t understand trollish. Or is that some sort of highly advanced Metamorphmagus language that your Aunty Dora has been teaching you on the sly that we lowly, ordinary wizards couldn’t possibly understand?”

Teddy rolls his bright eyes with a huff, swallowing down pointedly before speaking again. “Only chocolate in mine, just like Tad!”

“Manners, Ted, remember please and thank yous.” Remus says, long suffering as he eases down into his own seat and sips from the mug of coffee that Sirius had already prepared for him. “Though yes, I’d like mine to be chocolate too, Sirius, if you’re taking orders.”

Sirius grins indulgently at them before peering down to his eldest. “Angie darling, what shall we do with their teeth once they fall out from all that sugar?”

Angelica laughs glowingly, and Sirius brushes back her chestnut bangs with a reverent hand.”The snow warlock outdoors could use it since he’s only got a carrot nose after Matty ate the chocolate frogs we were s’pose to  use for his smile.”

“Brilliant!”

.-

After they’ve all eaten, Teddy and Angelica race outside to await the Potters amidst shouts of “Shut your trap,” from a peeved off Teddy every time Angelica taunts him over his crush on Effie, and the twins dig into their toy chest in the living room while Sirius and Remus spell away the mess that always ensues after a meal with the Lupin-Blacks.

“Andromeda wants us to bring the Christmas pudding this year,” Remus idly tells Sirius while he enchants the dishes to begin washing themselves with a graceful flick of his wand. Remus ordinarily prefers cleaning them by hand, so Sirius has an inkling that the impending full moon has already  begun aching in his bones. Merlin’s saggy bollocks does he wish this new, experimental potion would just escape the bureaucracy of the Ministry so that the man who is his other half could at least have a small relief.

“Is that along with the wine and fresh cranberry sauce she’s asked for?” Sirius says, saddling up behind Remus, bending slightly so to nuzzle his nose along the hollow of his long neck.

“Mmm, she thought you might say that, and wanted to kindly remind you that she carried a set of twins for us when she was forty even though we promised that Ted would be the last sprog.”

“Pff, as if I’d let potter outdo us.”

“We definitely didn’t let that happen,” Remus snorts. “The twins and Pip will surely be the next generation Marauders, God save Minerva.”

“Exactly!” Sirius sneers, locking his arms around Remus’s torso. “Besides ’s not like it’s our fault Meda’s bloody eggs decided on a two for one deal.”

Remus stifles a laugh, leaning back into the embrace and setting his hand over Sirius’s where he’s begun thumbing small circles against his abdomen. “Yes, well if you’d like to have that argument with her?”

“Oh, she’s full of it. I know that the twins are her favorites, spoils them rotten I tell you Moons.”

“Well it’s hard not to with such cute faces,” Remus says, turning his head slightly so to peer over at the pair of them through the doorway. Maeve is munching on the leg of her barbie and Matthew is clashing together pieces of two completely contradictory puzzles. Sirius swears that his chest might implode with the love he feels for his chaotic, little family.

“Course they’re cute, Moons,” he says loftily instead of the incredibly sappy emotions that are flooding his insides. “They’re are kids, cute is in the genes.”

“Cocky bastard,” Remus snorts before turning around in his arms and kissing him full on the mouth. And yes, the sight of Remus curled around the latest essay he’s meant to be marking up with the baby monitor for the twins’s room clutched in his left fist, was an absolute heavenly sight, but Sirius thinks this more hands on approach is a much more appropriate welcome after dealing with an ocean between them and six nights apart.

“Mmm, does this mean I’m not in the dog house anymore?” Sirius asks hopefully, trailing a path of kisses along Remus’s jawline and stopping at the hinge where it meets his neck so to suck only slightly, reveling in the beautifully familiar taste of his husband.

“You were never in the dog house you daft mutt,” Remus reproves in a voice that could’ve been caustic if it weren’t for his words going breathy half way through and his hands clutching tightly onto Sirius’s shoulders. “’S just— Just… Nothing.”

Sirius feels his stomach twist, pulling off of him with a scowl set on his face, and refusing for Remus to just brush this aside, the way he’s always want to do instead of talking about anything that actually might be hurting him. Like he’s afraid that his sodding feelings are somehow a burden, the self-possessed bastard.

“Tell me,” he intones, brooking no arguments while he gently takes Remus’s face in hand so he can’t look away.

His gorgeous features twist up, indignant and mulish, but they relax almost just as quickly, a defense tactic that’s melt away almost completely after so long of being intwined with one another in the most intimate of ways.

“Sirius, there was a time that you could hardly keep your hands off of me after being away for less than half as long,” Remus tells him, voice wavering only slightly. “And I understand if it’s getting tiring having to parent around the moon’s schedule—“

“What the bloody fuck are you talking about,” Sirius really meant to listen to him all the way through, he did! But he can’t help just how furious he got at the sound of that absolutely ridiculous conclusion Remus has somehow conjured up in his impossible mind. Positively hates how this is still such a point of sensitivity Remus has when it regards to their relationship.

“Sirius—“

“Don’t be a completely idiotic arse, Lupin!” Sirius very nearly shouts, absolutely broiling. “You are the love of my life, and I wouldn’t change a single sodding thing about us! And I swear to Merlin or Morgana or whoever the fuck else, that if you begin speaking such rubbish again, I’ll have to lock you up in our bedroom, and show you just how intensely I mean that.”

Remus’s face has gone flushed throughout Sirius’s diatribe, and his hazel eyes twinkle with that adoring way of his that always makes Sirius’s heart lodge somewhere in his diaphragm. “Lupin-Black.”

“Pardon?”

“You called me Lupin, it’s Lupin-Black now, has been for quite a while.”

Sirius chuckles lowly, feeling his righteous anger  deflate as  he crowds Remus against the kitchen island and presses their foreheads together. “You done being a senseless sod then?”

Remus locks his hands around Sirius’s neck, kisses his cupids bow with a tender earnestness. “You still could’ve woken me up.”

“I just wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t be exhausted for tomorrow, love.” Sirius reiterates, kissing him with feeling before pulling apart once more. “Though if I’m being totally honest,  I would’ve liked it if you could’ve wanked me off in hello.”

“That’s all you would’ve wanted?” Remus asks smugly, the tip of his index finger tracing idl patterns  against Sirius’s neck.

“Mmm, don’t tease me, Moony.” Sirius tells him before sharing another snog. “I was just thinking earlier on that it’s been three ruddy months since I’ve had you to myself for the entire night.””

Remus’s smile brightens, “Oh yeah? You’ve missed that have you?” He bucks forwards, and Sirius can feel him pressed completely against his front.

“I think I might go mad very, very soon, Mssr Moony if we don’t correct this most awful of grievances.”

Remus laughs fondly, kissing the tip of his nose with a smile on his face. “Well I reckon that the twins are old enough to sleep through the night, and Grandma Lupin is always asking after them.”

Sirius brightens ten fold, “Really?”

“I’m sure the kids won’t mind spending an extended weekend on the Welsh coast.” Remus nods.

“Right, good. Yes! Let’s use that tellamabob thing.”

“But the kitchen’s still a mess.”

“Remus, please have mercy on me,” Sirius begs with his best pleading look until his husband finally relents in that worldweary way of his, even if it’s him who snatches Sirius’s wrist and drags him to that muggle contraption, an excited jittering to his grasp all the while.

Sirius is irrecoverably in love with such a bellend.

~*~

My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

[miss-dr-reid]

This is calm, and it's, Doctor #8

Warning: some domestic abuse, but nothing gory

On the drive home, my head was filled with memories of yesterday. How cute Spencer was when all he wanted to do was win a game of chess. Pretty much passing out on his lounge while waiting for dinner. Dancing the night away and waking up surrounded by fuzzy, cuddly, Spencer blanket. My heart beat hard, my head filled with joy.

Does Spencer feel this way about me? There's no reason he would. We barely know each other.

I arrived home and jumped straight in the shower. Washing my hair felt so good, I stood there, massaging for a while, relieving my head of the stress from the last week. I scrubbed my body and shaved everything baby smooth.

Stepping out of the shower, I reached for a towel from the rack, grabbed it and patted myself dry. I wrapped it around myself and looked in the mirror, memories of the first night I spent with a guy after leaving my ex.

~ I had arrived home and was finishing up having a shower, I reached for the towel rack, only looking when I couldn't feel one. When I looked, I was surprised to see my ex sitting on the toilet. A look of anger on his face...

"Have a good night?" he retorted.

"Doesn't matter to you, but it was great." I retaliated, hating that he made it in to my house without my knowing.

"As if. No one can make you feel the way that I can. I make you feel so good, baby, don't I?" He said, getting up off the toilet seat, coming toward me, one hand hiding behind his back.

"Fuck off. I don't want you anymore. I already told you." I said, backing up, ripping a folded towel off the counter behind me, "You need to leave, right now." Even though my voice was stern, he was still coming for me.

I didn't want to fight, so I ran, he tried to grab me on my way past, but I was still wet, so I slipped out of his grip. I ran straight for the front door, flinging it open and banging on my neighbours door. She didn't hesitate to open it, seeing me on the other side. I shoved my way in and she locked the door.

We moved away from the door, to her room and she grabbed me a spare shirt, I dropped the towel to put it on and was shocked to see red all over the towel where my hand had been pressed to my chest. I looked up at her who noticed it as well. She was on the phone to emergency serviced and asked for an ambulance to be added to the people on dispatch.

I didn't even realise he had got me as I pushed past him. the adrenaline was pumping through my body. I picked the towel back up and pressed it to myself once again. Waiting. He was banging on the door, demanding to be let in. He left soon after, knowing how this would end if he didn't.

The police arrived after what seemed like forever, followed by the EMT's. They were let into the apartment and the EMT suggested I go to hospital. I opted to get myself there after they deemed that the cut was not bad enough to need emergency surgery. I gave my statement to the police and thanked my neighbour for letting me in to her place so quick. ~

That was the last time I saw him. I moved out 2 weeks after that, changed jobs and finished studying. I looked at myself in the mirror, lowering the towel, lowering the towel, revealing the scar I still have on the outside of my breast, right where it meets my chest.

I covered up and went to my room, deciding what to wear.

'Something nice, but casual enough to walk places.' I tho9ught to myself. I landed on a semi-fitted sun dress and my favourite lime-green bikini. I wore some flats that I was easily able to slip on and off. I threw my hair into a messy bun and decided it was good enough.

I grabbed a few things, like sunscreen and a towel and popped them into a beach bag that I had stored away. I was ready to go. I checked my watch 11:15. Taking one last look around the place, I took my stuff and left. On the drive, I couldn't help but drive past Spencer's place, just for fun, and only 2 minutes later, I arrived at the cafe where I had met the boys for the first time.

The clock on my dash read 11:37, plenty of time to sit and wait before the boys would be here. I closed my eyes and rested my head back on the head rest. My mind wondering back to last night, wish that Spencer would think of me the same way I think of him. Maybe I'm just being desperate, but thinking about Spencer causes me to smile, every single time. I can't help it.

The loud knock on my window cause me to jolt from my thoughts. I looked out the window, seeing Morgan's face on the other side as his hand reached for the handle. Once the door was open, I climbed out and locked the car. Derek hugged me, which I returned, squeezing him slightly, he smelt good. We let go of the embrace, stepping back from each other, he looked me up and down.

"Looking good, mama." He says with a wink.

"Ha, you too." I winked back, "I thought you only had eyes for Garcia."

We stood there laughing for a bit, until I saw Spencer come around the corner, his face buried in a book, he was only ever looking away from it to see if there was an obstacle in his path.

"Ah, pretty boy." Morgan said, turning to look at him. Spencer's face still glued to the book, he didn't look up until he was inside. Derek decided it would be a good idea to sneak up on him and we entered the cafe behind him and stood there watching. He looked around to try and find Derek and I, to no avail. He pulled out his phone and started dialing. Derek and I giggled to ourselves, but Spencer wasn't paying attention as he was listening to the ringing on his phone. As Derek's phone rang, he didn't even reach for it, instead watching Spencer as he spun around to see us right behind him, all of us giggling.

We greeted each other, and Spencer walked toward me, his arms going outward as if coming in for a hug. I gave him a puzzled look, and accepted his embrace. The familiar smell of his cologne filling my nose, I took in a deep breath before releasing him.

Morgan bro-hugged him and we all laughed at how silly everything had just been.

"Let's grab lunch!" I exclaimed, I was starving.

We sat around a table, our chairs evenly spaced apart. The guys picked up menus, but I already knew what I wanted. After deciding, Derek and Spencer got up to order, insisting on covering my lunch. They came back and Derek decided small talk would be a good idea.

"So, Y/N," he smirked, "Is there anyone special in your life?" his eyebrows wiggling.

"Yes and No." I started, staring him in the eyes, not sure how to proceed, "I met this guy recently, I think he's great. I'm not sure if he's interested in me though. I'm also not sure if I should ask him how he feels. I mean, we only met not that long ago, so it might be too soon, you see..." I trailed off, rubbing my thumbs together, avoiding even a glance in Spencer's direction, so as though to not give anything away.

"Non sense!" Derek remarked, "If you feel a certain way about someone, you gotta tell them, babygirl. So, who is he?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter, you don't know him." I replied, trying to brush him off, but he wouldn't have it, and insisted I give him the identity of the 'mysterious guy' that I was keeping secret from him.

I remembered back to the car ride with Emily, all the little things she told me about Spencer.

"Walter..." I trailed off, smirking at myself a little, "He's cute and tall and quite smart." I could go on about all the little things I found adorable and attractive about Spence, but if I made the list too specific, Derek would piece it together too easily.

Spencer's ears perked at the name, and he looked at me with a puzzled looked, and I couldn't help the small smile that came across my face. Derek was still trying to figure out who 'Walter' was.

Derek noticed us looking at each other, looked between us, his eyes narrowing as he examined my face. His concentration broken by our food being put on the table in front of us. We all thanked the waitress and started eating. I had a chicken salad wrap, Spencer had a cheese ham and tomato toastie, while Derek had a burger. We all ate, barely saying a word, enjoying our meals.

I was the first to finish, Spencer was done soon after. We started talking about work things. We started picking on Derek who was having trouble defending himself as he tried to finish his food quickly.

"At least I don't hide behind books to avoid my feelings." Derek spat back at Spence, who just shrugged his shoulders. "And how about you, miss Perfect? Sucking up to Hotch and showing off in front of everyone on your first day, making us all look bad! You can't fool anyone with your goody-two-shoes act!" he finished by taking a sip of his drink.

I clasped a hand to my chest in fake offence, "Oh no! ME make the fantastic Mr. Morgan look bad?! how could I? His beautiful physique and wonderful words which help him pull all the ladies, tarnished! what ever will he do?" I stopped when I noticed Spencer silently giggling to himself at the sight before him. I couldn't let him get out of this. "Oh no no, Doctor. You're not getting out of this that easily. Your big brilliant brain is beautiful, but you need to work on understanding innuendos. The amount of things that have been said to and around you, that go straight over your head, we need to get you cultured."

He was confused. He didn't understand why he needed to understand jokes, why it mattered so much, and really, it doesn't. He's perfect in my eyes.

We sat there talking for a bit more until Derek decided it was time to go. We got up, left a tip on the table and headed out. We walked to y car and leaned on it, Spencer choosing to stand.

"What now?" I asked.

"The beach." Derek answered, "Don't worry pretty by, we'll find somewhere with shade so you can sit and read." Spencer's expression calmed at the sound of not being forced to swim.

We decided to go in one car. My car was elected because it was closest. I climbed in to the drivers seat, Derek in the passenger and Spence, in the back.

On the car ride, I changed through radio stations, trying to find music. Derek was confused by it, but Spencer knew what was happening. With the back coming along the corner, we all kept our eyes peeled for a parking spot.

I saw a spot, near a decent sized tree, which had a bench in the shade underneath it. Perfect. I pulled into the spot and we all climbed out. Derek and I, grabbing our beach bags and Spencer with his satchel that he has with him literally everywhere he goes.

The three of us walked single-file, me leading, to the bench. Spencer quite happily sat and pulled out his book while Derek and I set down our bags. I took a moment to take in the scene. Closing my eyes, I listened to the water, the crashing of the waves, so welcoming and calming. The smell of the ocean was so refreshing, the scent filling my lungs with every breath.

Opening my eyes, I saw Morgan had started removing layers until he was just in his swim trunks. I followed his lead, undressing down to my bikini. My skin looked so pasty compared to his caramel skin.

I grabbed the sunscreen from my bag, and started on my arms, chest, legs but of course, I can't each my call back properly. I looked over at Derek, with almost output dog eyes and he held out his hand. I have him the tube and turned around.

"You know, Walter should be going this guy you.." his suggestive tone caused heat to rush to my face as my eyes lifted to look at Spencer, who's eyes were glued to the pages of his book.

As he finished, he threw the tube down to my bag and ye inlled,

"Last one in is a rotten egg!"

Without hesitation we both ran for the water, laughing the whole way. With sand flicking up behind us as we ran, we reached the water in no time. We leapt over the small wave as we reached the water, the splash from the land was cool and refreshing. After a few more leaps, I dove in under a wave, losing sight of Derek.

The Cool water consumed my body. The waves in my hair, the current caressing and flowing over me. As I resurfaced, I couldn't see Derek. I assumed he went under too, and started looking in to the water, trading to see his figure.

With my head still looking to the water, a splash came from my side, Derek sat there unleashing a wave of splashes as I tried to deflect and return. Laughter erupting from both of us as we unleashed a wrath of splashes on each other. He finally stopped with a breathy laugh and so did I. He started to swim toward me and I couldn't help but splash him one last time, playback for what he'd started.

"Alright," he laughed, "You win." He made it over next to me. As our breathing solved, we both looked at Spencer, who's attention seemed to never leave his book.

"How can we get pretty boy in the water?" He suggested. We decided a plan and set it in to play, and I was the bait. I watched Derek swim far enough away and began acting. It needed to be convincing or Spence Rodney buy it.

I started waving my hand in the air and started yelling out for help. Using his name a couple of times in the process helped a lot. His head finally snapped up to see me, my head bobbing under the water a few times, and to see Derek no where near close enough to help. He jumped up, ripped off his shirt and used his feet to remove his shoes.

He ran for the water and jumped in. He made it close enough to me that he was commited to swimming and I started laughing. Derek, who had been watching, had made his way over too and joined in with my giggles. It wasn't long until Spencer had his arms wrapped around me, trying to get my head above water. I looked into his eyes and batted my eyelashes, a small smile coming over my lips.

"Sorry." I said quietly as Derek patted him on the back, telling him of our plan.

"if you guys wanted me to swim so bad, you should have just asked." Spencer said, releasing me and staring me down with betrayal in his eyes.

"C'mon Reid," Morgan started, "you wouldn't have come in if I had simply asked. And besides, didn't it feel good holding a beautiful woman in your arms?" His eyebrows wiggling as Spencer studied me, both of our faces going red at the suggestion.

Derek swam off with a 'catch me if you can' look on his face.

"Sorry for doing that to you." I apologised to Spencer.

"No, he's right. I wouldn't have come in if he had asked. I'm not much for swimming, not in open experts anyway. I much prefer somewhere I can see the bottom. Even though the percentage of shark attacks is pretty low, the chances of getting stuck in a rip are quite high. I don't think I'd put up much of a fight against one..." His voice trailed off as he watched Derek get further away.

"I'll save you if that ever happens." I said, winking at him. He laughed and started after Derek, I followed. The swim turned into more of a race rather than us trying to catch Derek.

We stayed at the beach for a few hours. I could feel my shoulders and nose burning. We had been having so much fun, I had forgotten to reapply sunscreen.

"Maybe we should get going," I suggested, "at least in to the shade?" I noticed Spencer's face was also red and I felt bad because he didn't even apply sunscreen. The three of us retreated to the shade.

I picked up my towel and patted myself dry. I slipped on my dress and we packed up our stuff ready to go. We stopped at the public showers to wash our feet before getting to the car.

"Who's still keen for icecream?" Derek asked as we reached the car. My sunburn wasn't 'burning' as of yet and I was still keen on icecream.

"I'm keen, but we shouldn't be too long. The sooner I get some cream into this bad boy, the better." I replied, pointing to my nose and shoulders, while putting my seat belt on. Derek looked over his shoulder to Spencer who simply said,

"Sure." With a shrug of his shoulders, pulling his book out of his bag.

The icecream shop wasn't too far away, so o didn't burger with the radio. Instead, Derek and I joked around with each other during the drive.

This one is longer to make up for the day's I've been missing. It's been sitting in my drafts for days because I keep getting distracted. I'm so sorry, please enjoy. :)

[thewritewolf]

After the End Chapter 11: Take A Break

Chat Noir pays a visit to someone near and dear to him.

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@marichatmay

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Chat Noir - or, more accurately at the moment, Astro Chat - flew between the low Jura Mountains. They weren’t nearly as high as the Swiss Alps, but they did let him know that he’d finally crossed the border into Switzerland. It wouldn’t be much longer before he reached the facility.

Not for the first time, he was grateful for Ladybug’s insistence not only on rediscovering how to make the transformation potions on her own, but making so much of the stuff that even after blasting through their resources in the final battle he still had enough of the space cheese for things like this. It was definitely useful - after all, Adrien could hardly be seen on a Parisian train bound for Switzerland when he was supposed to be somewhere in Italy. Although the English tabloids insisted that he was in their country, forgetting that Adrien had an identical cousin.

As for Chat Noir - well, Astro Chat’s suit blended in perfectly well with the cloudless starry night, especially after some alterations to remove some lime green highlights. There was probably only one, maybe two people in all of Paris who might notice that he was gone tonight.

Instead of reassuring him, however, that fact only caused him to frown.

“Claws in.”

Plagg’s bright green eyes appeared in the dark. “You gonna be okay, big guy?”

“Yeah… she’s been getting better, after all. She even recognizes me! Well, most days at least.” Adrien gave Plagg a smile. “And its good to see her again after thinking she was gone for so long.”

“Like seeing a ghost,” Plagg commented. “You sure you want to do this?”

“I have to, Plagg.” Adrien opened his jacket and his kwami flew into his inner pocket. “She’s my mom. I can’t just pretend she isn’t around somewhere.”

He walked onto the main path that lead into the facility, a long term hospital of sorts. Finding it had been a godsend for Adrien - a place that specializes in people waking up from years-long comas? One specifically dedicated to restoring mental and physical wellbeing? It was almost too good to be true. With all the progress she had made so far, it had been worth every euro sending her here. And really, what else was he going to spend a dirty fortune on anyway?

Eventually he made it through the checkpoints and entered through the front door. One of the nurses at the front smiled warmly at him when she noticed him. He placed his hands on the elevated desk.

“Hello, Adrien.” She began checking something on her computer. “Late night visit again?”

“You know how it is,” Adrien said with a sigh. “If any tabloids caught me here, they’d probably start going after my mother.”

“Which is exactly why we have guards.”

“True, but I’d rather not cause you guys any trouble if I can avoid it. You already do such a good job - I don’t want to make it harder.”

“That’s very sweet of you.” The nurse finished whatever it was she was doing on her desktop. “It looks like you’re in luck. Emilie is in therapy right now. Do you need me to take you to her?”

“No, that’s fine.” He gently tapped the desk. “I know the way by now.”

Adrien followed the twisting corridors mechanically, his thoughts back in Paris, split between recent discoveries and the battle that had changed everything for him. What had his father done that had caused him to be immune to the miracle cure? Was it the same thing that turned him into a giant monster? And who had helped him do it? Because now he was almost certain that he’d gotten help - likely from these “Gentlemen” mentioned in his records. But they didn’t appear often. He was working with little more than the whispers of a dead man.

It would have to be enough. He didn’t have any other choice.

Those depressing thoughts took a backseat when he entered the little therapy room where his mother was seated in front of a woman in a lab coat. The doctor glanced at him and gave him a nod before turning back toward his mother.

“Alright, Emilie, we’ll stop there for now. It looks like you’ve got a visitor.”

“Adrien?” She turned toward him and gave him a radiant smile as she held open her arms. He eagerly hugged her, crouching down so she could reach around his back while she sat in her wheelchair. “It's so good to see you sweetheart.”

“Same to you, mom. How’re you doing?” His eyes darted between her and her doctor.

“Every day she can walk a little further, Adrien.” Doctor Lara had learned early on not to call him Mr Agreste. “She’s making phenomenal progress given how long she was in her coma, but it will still be some time before she can walk without support. Mentally… well, she is improving but prognostications are harder given the non-mundane origin of her affliction.”

“Thank you.” He shook her hand as the doctor stood. “I really appreciate everything you’re doing, I know it can’t be easy.”

“Just doing our jobs.” She smiled and walked out of the room, leaving Adrien alone with his mother.

He took the seat the doctor had just left. “So… how are you doing?”

“My memories are still… fuzzy and there are holes in it. Like a bunch of moths built a nest in my closet and ate away at my gala dresses.” She winced. “Sorry, dear. Poor analogy.”

He forced a smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Now, my memory may not be what it used to be, but I believe the last time you were here, you were filling me in on your time in high school...?”

His mother always did have a talent for changing the subject, even before everything that happened. But, if she wanted something to talk about to get her mind off her recovery, then Adrien would happily oblige her.

Besides, it didn’t take her long to get tired again. Barely half an hour had passed and she was looking ready to fall asleep. She’d take naps throughout the day to counter it, but that just lead to her being up at all hours of the day. Eventually she’d need to fix her sleep schedule but for now it wasn’t as pressing an issue. Especially since he could visit her under the cover of night.

Eventually he managed to pull the topic into more dangerous ground - Gabriel and his side practices. Getting any leads had been a large part of the reason he’d made this trip now, second only to checking in on his mother.

“Mom?” Emilie turned from the window she had been staring out while listening intently to him and looked him in the eyes. “Have you ever heard of some people called… the Gentlemen?”

His mother frowned and he braced himself for the moment he was expecting - that she either didn’t know anything or that she had forgotten what she had known. This was a shot in the dark for him, a desperate grab for any possible leads. Who else besides Gabriel’s wife would know the intimate details of his business?

Well, besides Nathalie. But she… wasn’t around any more for questioning.

He was pulled out of those morbid thoughts when his mother responded.

“That definitely sounds familiar.” His eyes widened, which went unnoticed by Emilie as she tapped her chin and looked off into the distance. “I seem to remember something about the Boutonnière Noir?”

“What was that? Some kind of group or…?”

“It was a place, but…” She began to glare, annoyed. “I can’t remember where it was! Or even what it was, to be perfectly honest. But it definitely had something to do with them. Maybe it had something to do with an academic too? Someone in your father’s line of work, I think.”

She put her fingers to her temples, rubbing them gingerly. He put a hand on her arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks, mom. That’s already way more than I had - I’m sure it’ll help.”

“I’m glad, dear.” She gave her a weak smile. “And as much as I would love to keep talking, this has really taken it out of me.”

“Of course.” He stood up after giving her another hug. “I’ll let the nurses know you’re ready to go back to your room.”

“Thank you, sweetie. Come back soon!”

Adrien looked back at her from the doorway and offered a smile. “I’ll do my best!”