#but also my anxiety spiked so hard and fast my body only registered it as anger and i ended up snapping at my partner for no good reason

[dredshirtroberts]

hey guess what my car trauma includes the *inside* of the car too apparently! :D :| idk i feel like getting made fun of for having to eat fast food in my car between work and school while my catalytic converter shat itself to the point that my back seat footwells were filled completely with various QSR trash maybe gave me some sort of complex. Just a hunch though, who knows.

[aslitheryprinx]

Hello! Here is my mcyt g/t exchange piece for @blurrybunnie!

The prompt I decided to use was:

"cold nights are the best time for cuddles, but can it really be called cuddles when the giant is unaware of the tiny stealing their warmth?"

This was a really fun one to write, so I hope you enjoy! :D

Lonely Nights

-----------

Tommy clutched his ragged blanket around his shoulders, shivering violently. Winters had always been rough on the teen ever since he was shrunk by a vengeful witch as a child.

He'd been too terrified to be around people since the incident, knowing how easy it would be for one stray step or one cruel person to kill him. That meant living in the woods with what little supplies he could scavenge.

The blanket was made from the torn fabric of someone's discarded clothes he'd taken years ago. It had gotten him through many winters, but barely, and the years had made it thin and worn. This was possibly the worse winter he'd ever seen, as well, and as the night got colder, he was scared he wouldn't see the dawn.

Just as the cold was starting to make his body numb and heavy, the faint scent of smoke drifted past him. It didn't register for a couple of seconds. Then he was suddenly alert, adrenaline flooding his system.

Smoke meant fire. Fire meant his chance to survive the rest of the night.

Fire also meant people. Tommy felt anxiety curling in his stomach when he realized he'd need to get up close to someone, maybe the closest he'd been since he was shrunk. But it was worth the risk for the promise of warmth.

He sprinted through the woods, pushing past the blades of grass that stood in his way. He tripped over a twig, stumbling for a second before he recovered.

The running warmed him up slightly, but he was still shivering uncontrollably, teeth knocking against each other so hard he bit his tongue a couple of times.

When he saw a warm glow, he slowed. He stopped just before the clearing of dirt where the fire had been built, not wanting to leave the cover of the grass just yet.

His heart thudded far too loudly in his ears as he scanned, looking for the person or people who had made the fire. He wilted in relief when he realized there was only one man, curled up fast asleep on the other side of the fire.

He was still nervous at the possibility of the man waking up and seeing him, but the draw of the heat he could already feel from the fire was too strong. He walked forwards like a moth drawn to a flame.

The fire was old, more softly glowing embers than actual flames. He was able to go right up next to the fire. The warmth sank into his bones, and he sighed in relief. He sat down and curled up. Soon his eyes were drooping. He was close to drifting off, when a new shiver wracked his body.

He sat up quickly, alarm spiking. Another wave of chills hit him and he turned towards the fire. It had completely burnt out, and there was only a sliver of warmth coming from the smoldering wood now.

A gust of wind blew through the clearing, stealing all the warmth he'd gained from his short time by the fire. His eyes burned, though there was no smoke to sting his eyes.

He was going to freeze out here. He had no way to reignite the fire, and the man wouldn't be lighting it again anytime soon, he was fast asleep.

...The man was asleep.

A dangerous idea was forming in Tommy's mind. The fire was gone. If Tommy wanted to keep from freezing, there was only one source of warmth left: the sleeping person on the other side of the campsite.

The idea of it made Tommy's stomach churn with anxiety. But there really wasn't another option. It was either cuddle up to the giant person or freeze to death. A lump in his throat, he started walking around the burnt out fire, towards the sleeping figure.

He dragged his feet as he walked, stalling a little. While he walked, he took in the man's appearance. He hadn't paid much attention earlier, just glancing to make sure he was asleep. Now, he took in the man's features, wrapping his arms around himself as he realized just how massive he was in comparison.

The man was curled up in a sleeping roll. He might as well have been a mountain to Tommy. His hair was brown, but he couldn't tell what shade it was in the darkness. Tommy teen couldn't see what he was wearing, aside from the yellow sleeve of the man's sweater where his arm poked out. He slept with one arm curled in front of his face.

The last thing the shrunken teen wanted to do was get next to the man's face, and risk being seen. But the only exposed skin of the man was up by his face. There was no warmth coming from the safer options like the sleeping man's legs, he found out as he reached the area he guessed to be his knee.

Tommy just had to suck it up… and keep walking. Past the legs. Past the man's chest that rose up at least twice Tommy's height. He reached the elbow and his resolve wavered. The man was just so big. Just his elbow came all the way up to Tommy's waist.

But Tommy could feel the heat radiating from him already. Despite his fear, his shivering was too much, and he leaned against the arm. The warmth was intoxicating, and Tommy was climbing over the elbow, moving towards an even warmer spot before he knew what he was doing.

His heart was pounding with fear at the sight of the man's face. Every feature seemed impossibly large, and it just drove home how tiny and helpless Tommy had been for years now. But he pressed on, desperate to stop the shivering.

He crept closer and closer, feeling the warmth draw him in. As he walked, he could hear the whoosh of his lungs as he breathed. The noise was startling at first, far louder than it should be, but after a few moments, the steady sound became kind of relaxing.

Tommy found himself automatically matching the breathing of the sleeping man. His heart slowed down to a reasonable pace, and being this close to the massive person wasn't quite as intimidating. He could do this.

He passed the man's chest, feeling very envious of the warm looking sweater, and went straight towards the exposed skin of his neck.

Tommy set a hesitant hand against the neck, and instantly a wave of warmth was washing over him. He was pressed up against the man's neck, curling as close as he could before he could even think. His shivers slowly died down as the heat seeped into his core.

The relief from the cold made his mind slow to a crawl. He sat down, leaning heavily against the warm skin. He shouldn't fall asleep here, it was dangerous. But the warmth was making him sleepy, and his eyes started to droop.

Suddenly, there was motion in front of him and his eyes flew all the way open. He saw a hand twice his size coming towards him. There was barely a second to react. He looked around wildly, but there was no place to run to.

The hand brushed against him and he froze. It closed around him, and Tommy struggled, trying to escape. The grip was too tight, and he was terrified he'd been discovered. But the man was still breathing deeply, eyes shut. He'd moved in his sleep.

Tommy clawed at the hand, but he couldn't budge it. Eventually, he exhausted himself and laid back limply. The hand was radiating blissful heat, and he wanted so badly to just relax into it and sleep.

In addition to the warmth, each place where the massive person's hand brushed against his skin felt like the nerves were set alight. He hadn't been around another person in so long… since he was shrunk… when was the last time anyone touched him?

Against his better judgement, he curled into the contact. He was just so tired. Surely it would be ok if he just took a short nap? He could wake up early, and escape before the man woke up.

It only took another minute of the steady heartbeat, the delicious warmth, and the even breathing to lull him completely to sleep. He went limp in the firm but gentle hold, curling closer while he slept.

In the morning, a much more stressed Tommy would have to deal with a very curious, very large person who wasn't inclined to let him just run off.

But for right now? Tommy slept without a care, feeling more peaceful than he had in many years.

[marvelmando]

the first breath [p.parker x reader]

notes: hi! i... actually love this. i’m a sucker for soulmate! au’s, so naturally this was somewhat easy to write. this is just a small break from my tempest series, ill continue posting tomorrow (bc it’s my birthday!). tomorrow as in the eleventh, just in case it’s already daytime wherever you’re reading this!

contains: soulmate! au, some swearing

pairing: peter parker + reader

word count: 3.6k

“Hey!”

Peter’s heart thumped hard in his chest. Looking around for the person, he saw a girl greeting a friend, and Peter sighed, unconsciously massaging the band covering his left wrist.

No matter how many times Peter had heard the word, it never failed to send a spike of panic in him. It was just a word, an unfairly common greeting phrase in America, but to Peter, it meant infinitely more.

“Stupid Soulmark,” Peter grumbled to himself as he walked the halls of Midtown High. 

For as long as humans could tell, each individual was born with a word or phrase inked into the skin of their nondominant forearm. The Marks could say anything, but they belonged to the first words spoken to you by your soulmate.

Soulmarks were considered sacred by most of the world, and like most sacred things, they were hidden from public view. Soulbands were a staple in almost every culture, meant to only be taken off in front of your soulmate. Although modern times saw the general acceptance of most controversial topics that were shunned in the past, Soulbands seemed to never grow out of popularity. It was also a sense of security, to make sure that they couldn’t be said by the wrong person.

Some had easily-identifiable Marks. Where there was little room for doubt that the words spoken belonged to your soulmate. Others, like Peter, had simple, one-word Marks.

For as long as he could remember, Peter lived in a near-constant state of anxiety over the word. What would normally be an off-hand remark or a polite greeting made Peter’s heart skip and his knees grow weak.

Whenever greeted with the word, Peter would tense, and respond with a stiff, “Um, hi?” and watch as the person gave him a weird or blank look in return. There had been several instances - none of which he was particularly proud of - where Peter ran away rather than face the sting of false hope.

Most religions viewed Soulmarks as divine intervention, a sign that humans were blessed by the gods. A lot of the time, Peter wanted to curse whatever gods forced them into the arranged couplings.

Failing at keeping the scowl at bay, Peter stopped at his locker, twisting the lock and opening it to return his books.

“Hey, Peter,” a voice said from behind, and he instantly recognized it as Ned Leeds, his best (and only, really) friend. Peter turned only his head, unsurprised to find Betty Brant, Ned’s soulmate, at his side.

Like most matched individuals, Ned seemed to glow with happiness in the presence of their soulmate. Sometimes the dopey smile on Ned’s face was too much for Peter. Whether it was from envy or discomfort, feeling the never-ending, unadulterated joy exuding from him made Peter’s stomach turn and twist uncomfortably.

“Hey, Ned. Betty,” Peter nodded as a greeting, stacking his textbooks in his locker. 

“Are you planning on going to the... internship, today?” Ned whispered, his inability for subtly flaring to life. Though Betty had been Ned’s match long enough to know Peter’s secret, it was a good thing the halls had pretty much been deserted at that point, as the school day had been over for more than ten minutes.

“Yeah,” Peter shut his locker, heaving his significantly lighter backpack over his shoulder. “Just neighborhood stuff, though.”

Ned nodded enthusiastically. Despite how preoccupied he was with Betty, Ned had always been Peter’s go-to Spider-Man guy. Ned called himself “The Guy in The Chair”, but Peter refused to say it out loud unless absolutely necessary.

They parted ways at the train station, where Peter went to find a secluded alley to change into his suit.

-

You had no idea what possessed your parents to up and move the family to New York.

You’d lived your entire life in a small, cozy town in the middle of nowhere. You’d enjoyed that life. Then suddenly, your father called you down one day earlier that summer to announce that in a few months, you’d be packing and moving to the heart of Queens.

Despite having been in the bustling city for weeks now, you still hadn’t gotten used to walking through the crowded streets. People were rude here; though, with the craziness of the city, you weren’t really sure you could blame them. Still, it filled you with frustration when you tried to weave through the streets, only to be knocked roughly in the shoulder and subsequently cursed out for no damn reason.

On the bright side - the only bright side, if you were being honest - was the exponential increase in the possibility that you would finally meet your soulmate.

Your hometown was lovely and quaint, but the general teenage population left a lot to be desired. It didn’t help that there were only fifty other people in your graduating class, or that you’d met and exchanged first words with every single of them already.

That being said, of all the people you’d met at Midtown so far, none of them had said the words branded on your right wrist. But to be fair, there weren’t many opportunities where someone had to yell, “I swear I wasn’t aiming at you!”

You didn’t have to worry about the possibility of danger in your old town, but in New York, you were vaguely concerned that the words would be uttered during a mugging.

Unfortunately, you were quite right to be concerned.

-

“All right, Karen, what do we got?”

Peter watched as the screen flashed, images of satellite footage and recordings of police radio calls popping up and disappearing again as Karen flipped through potential threats. 

“The city is quiet today,” Karen’s robotic voice remarked. Distantly, Peter wondered how the voice was created, and if it was recorded, who the person was behind the voice. It was distinctly human, after all, without the awkward pauses and emphases that Siri usually had. “There have been no reports of any robberies or shootings.”

Peter sighed, bored and disappointed. He’d long gotten over the guilt of wanting some danger in the city. 

Suddenly, before Karen could notify him, he heard a voice cry, “Stop that guy!”

Immediately swinging into action, Peter noticed a man in his mid-twenties sprinting down the sidewalk, shoving himself through the crowd. The woman who’d yelled for help was young, in her thirties, but still wasn’t fast enough to keep up.

Peter swung overhead, gaining distance and landing directly in the guy’s path. The thief skidded to a halt, his eyes widening in obvious fear at the sight of Spider-Man. He clutched a purse to his chest.

“It’s not nice to steal!” Peter yelled, moving to shoot a web at the purse. But the thief was quick, and he ducked under his web, making a run for it.

Peter was faster though and lunged to bodyslam him, sending him into the wall of a nearby building. The impact knocked the purse from his grasp, and it spilled to the ground as the man struggled to get back up. Peter webbed him to the wall and notified Karen to call the police. 

Satisfied with his handiwork, Peter was about to leap onto the roof when an aggravated noise caught his attention instead.

He turned to see you growling, your splayed hand webbed to a streetlamp. The web the thief dodged must’ve hit you instead. Catching sight of him noticing you, you yelled out, “Hey!”

For once in his life, the word didn’t seem to register. He was, for lack of a better word, enchanted by you. Even with furious indignation twisting your face, he couldn’t stop staring at the depth of your eyes and the slope of your nose. Blinking, he said without thinking, “I swear I wasn’t aiming for you!”

It was a stupid response, admittedly. Of course, he wasn’t aiming for you. You’d probably noticed the thief and could probably make the connection.

However, Peter didn’t have time to think about the pointlessness of the protest, because he was too busy registering what you’d said. The word. His word.

Cheeks flaming under his mask, Peter braced himself for the rejection. But it never came.

Your eyes went impossibly wide, and you immediately stopped yanking against the web. Peter watched as you gaped at him, and thanks to the mechanics of the suit, he noticed that your heart rate increased significantly.

Almost in a trance, Peter stepped toward you. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

Your mouth closed, and you visibly swallowed. “Depends,” your voice was tight, anxious. “How often do you accidentally shoot your webs at innocent bystanders?”

You flushed as you registered the double meaning behind the words. Peter watched in amusement as your cheeks flushed and you stammered to correct yourself.

“I-I just mean that -”

“It’s okay, I -”

Peter started to placate you, feeling the blood rushing through his veins like soda, popping and fizzing under his skin. But he was cut off by the sound of Karen’s voice, though distant, but urgent enough to draw his attention away from you.

“Peter, there’s a hostage situation that was just called in happening thirteen blocks away,” the AI announced, causing Peter to falter in his steps.

“I-I gotta go,” he told you, hurrying to free your trapped hand from the lamppost, and backing away reluctantly. “I’ll find you, I promise!”

He could see the disappointment on your face as you watched him scuttle off, and every cell in his body protested the distance he forced between him and his soulmate, but he knew he had to go.

“If you were anyone else, that’d be super creepy!” You yelled as Peter swung away. He smiled widely under his mask.

-

Your skin was still tingling and your cheeks were sore from smiling so much when you finally reached your apartment.

All you had to do was look at your mother for her to tell that you had met your soulmate. After spending an hour at the kitchen table being interrogated by your parents, you were finally released to your room to process.

You closed the door gently behind you and slid your back against the wood until your bottom rested on the ground. You tilted your head back, barely feeling the thunk as it collided with the door. Every time you tried to relax your face into a neutral expression, you remembered the way Spider-Man’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of you, and how your heart skipped several beats as he said the words you knew so well, and your lips crawled back into a giddy smile once more.

Even in your hometown in the middle of nowhere, you had known about Spider-Man. The superhero wasn’t nearly as popular as he seemed to be in the city he protected, but you still remembered the passing of phones and newspapers whenever Spider-Man saved another day or stopped another robbery. Even your high school had a day dedicated to him after a particularly miraculous defeat of the notorious Green Goblin, who’d terrorized the borough for weeks before he was stopped.

Spider-Man was a national - if not global - phenomenon. And he just so happened to be your soulmate.

You’d just reached for your phone to call your best friend from home when a knock on your window startled you.

You jumped, scrambling to your feet. Your apartment was on the eighth story, there was no way a burglar would have climbed all this way to rob you. A burglar wouldn’t knock either, you scoffed internally.

Tiptoeing to the window, you peered through the glass. Even under the dark cover of the late hour, you could distinctly make out the identity of the figure. You hurried to unlatch and open the pane, stepping back nervously when the figure climbed through, rather clumsily for how graceful he normally was.

Spider-Man was polite enough to close the window behind him, cutting off the brisk gust of wind that caused goosebumps to appear on your arms. You crossed them, rubbing them to warm yourself up.

When he straightened and faced you once more, you couldn’t help but stare back. You bit your lip anxiously, suddenly very aware of how messy your room was. You had, after all, just moved in, and most of your stuff was either still in boxes or strewn haphazardly about the room.

“I’m sorry for the mess,” you blurted, unable to help yourself. “We just moved here a couple weeks ago, and... well, y’know.” You gestured unhelpfully around the room.

Every cell in your body seemed as though they were vibrating. The muscles in your chest twitched and your bones ached to close the distance between the two of you. It was as though you and your soulmate were opposite ends of a magnet, and the field around you was pulling your bodies together.

“It-It’s okay,” Spider-Man stuttered, and you realized that he’d turned off his voice modulator. You hadn’t even realized earlier that he was using one, but you now recognized the difference. His voice was higher than before, not as robotic and crackly. “I don’t mind.”

You nodded awkwardly. Spider-Man shifted his balance between his feet, as if he too was fighting the urge to get closer. 

“Uh, how did you find me, anyway?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“Well, there’s this intelligence system installed in my suit, and I had her look up your address,” the eyes of his suit narrowed sharply as if he was wincing, probably at how creepy it sounded. “I hope that’s not too creepy, because it sounds pretty creepy. I didn’t - I mean, I wasn’t stalking you or anything.”

You smiled. Spider-Man rambled adorably, and though the thought of him looking up your address should have been terrifying, you found that you didn’t mind at all. You weren’t sure if it was because he was your soulmate, or if it was because he was a superhero. Either way, you placated him. “It’s alright, I don’t mind.”

Despite your insistence that it was fine, Spider-Man still held himself back, hesitant to move forward with the conversation. To cut through the awkward tension, you said the first thing that came to mind.

“I like your suit,” you said, cringing immediately after. While true, that wasn’t exactly what you meant to say.

With the mask, you couldn’t decipher Spider-Man’s reaction. Though, after a brief moment, he chuckled.

“Thanks,” he giggled. You felt yourself relax. “I like your shirt.”

You looked down. It was an old band shirt that you bought at a thrift store a few years ago and was well-worn, the ink faded and several holes stretching the neck out. “Uh, thanks.” You smiled nonetheless because it seemed that Spider-Man was just as nervous as you were, which inexplicably made you feel much better.

“My name’s Y/N, by the way,” you smiled, holding out your hand. “But if you know my address, you probably know my name, too.”

You thought you could see Spider-Man smiling under the mask. It shifted over his face as he accepted the handshake, wrapping his hand around yours. Even through the fabric of his suit, his skin burned like a furnace. From anyone else, it may have been stifling. But from him, the warmth was cozy, a calming heat rushing through your hand and up your arm, wrapping around your heart like a security blanket.

“I do,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. It took you a second to connect what he meant.

The seconds passed and your hands were no longer shaking, but neither of you dropped the hold. You found yourself drifting closer toward Spider-Man, and it took all of your energy not to fall into his chest and wrap your arms around his waist.

“I’m guessing that your real name’s not Spider-Man,” you cocked your head. “And I feel like it’s only fair that I know my soulmate’s name, too.”

Your breath hitched. You heard him inhale sharply, too. It was the first time you’d directly acknowledged to each other what you were, and it suddenly was too real for you.

You jerked your hand back, embarrassed. Your hand was startlingly cold now, suddenly bereft of Spider-Man’s touch. You flexed it subconsciously, yearning to reach out and grab his hand again.

“I - I...” you tried to explain yourself, but the wide, questioning eyes of his suit made you falter. You averted your eyes as you took an anxious step back, fighting against an overwhelming urge to flee.

“No, wait -” Spider-Man said, and reached up and yanked his mask off in one swift motion.

Your eyes immediately found his, as if they were pulled instinctively to each other. His soft almond-shaped eyes were filled with worry and caution, the warm brown irises gleaming in the darkness of your room. The lights of the ever-glowing city were the only light filtering in your room, and the shadows cut angles against Spider-Man’s cheekbones, carving his jowls and accentuating his slim mouth. Even in the darkness, you could make out the light smattering of freckles across the slightly crooked bridge of his nose, and the endearing flick of his left eyebrow, emphasized by their worried arch.

The chestnut curls piled on top of his head were tousled from the mask and flipped haphazardly over his forehead. His ears stuck out from his head, but instead of looking awkward, they fit his face nicely, softening the sharp edges of his high cheekbones. They were what made his already stunning face heartbreakingly adorable, and you fought the need to run your fingers over the shell of them.

Though the shadowy bags under his eyes conveyed a sense of exhaustion too severe for his apparent age, Spider-Man was younger than you thought. If you were to hazard a guess, Spider-Man was about your age, give or take a couple years.

“My name’s Peter,” he breathed, looking slightly panicked as you studied him. “Peter Parker.”

“Peter Parker,” you whispered, testing out the name on your tongue. The words were gentle but the pounding in your chest was overwhelming. The tension that grew since being in his presence while pulling yourself away made you feel as if you were drowning, gasping for breath. There was a bursting sensation in your stomach, then a warm, satisfying weight that spoke of absolute certainty that Peter Parker, aka Spider-Man, was your soulmate.

You felt your body inch toward his, and the relief flooding his face was palpable. You stepped closer to him, relishing in the way your body hummed in delight at the closeness. 

Peter looked down at you, his gaze sweet and caring as he searched your face. There was a moment of content examination spent in comfortable silence as you both memorized every little detail of each other’s faces. 

It should have been awkward, looking and saying nothing, but the longer you spent staring into each other’s eyes, the farther you seemed to fall. It was completely ridiculous and entirely premature, but you were certain that Peter was someone you could fall madly in love with.

“Hi,” you whispered, grinning shyly.

“Hi,” Peter responded just as softly, a mirroring smile stretching his lips. 

Suddenly realizing something, you moved back just enough to bring your hand up. Peter backed away slightly, though it seemed to pain him.

You grabbed at the band covering your forearm, watching Peter’s expression as you unwound it. His eyes went wide, shifting from your arm to your eyes, then back to your arm as the band fell away and exposed your Mark.

Eyes meeting yours for permission, he tenderly took your proffered arm. His eyes roved over the Mark, before he brought his own hand to his mouth, grabbing the middle finger of his glove and yanking it off.

With his bared hand, he reverently ghosted his fingers over the inked letters. The look on his face was pure awe. “I really wasn’t aiming for you.”

He winced as though the words weren’t meant to escape. You chuckled. “I know.”

The light caressing of his fingertips against the sacred Mark shot spikes of pleasure through your body. It was a heady feeling, seeing your life partner touching the place meant for only the two of you.

When he looked back up at you, his face was split in an achingly loving smile. He pulled away, and yanked on the sleeve, revealing his own band.

It was simpler than yours, designed to fit slimly to the skin under his suit. It only took a simple click of his finger for it to release. On the dip of the inside of his wrist was the word, “hey!” written in your handwriting. With gentle movements, you traced the lines with your fingers. Peter visibly shuddered, watching you soak in the Mark.

Though you could’ve stared at it forever, you finally tore your eyes away. You met Peter’s gaze, finding the weight of it easier to handle than you thought.

With your thumb pressed to the Mark, and his hand wrapped around yours, the universe nudged you together. You and Peter fell into each other, lips meeting and melding as your bodies and souls collided like two exploding stars; fate and gravity and destiny crashing into each other and settling happily between you and your soulmate.

Your Mark burned and your lips ached with the pressure of your shared kisses. Reality forced your bodies apart, foreheads resting against one another as you caught your breath, but all at once, your soul felt grounded - you hadn’t even realized how empty it was until it found Peter’s. 

In the safety of his arms, you breached the surface and took your first full breath.

[saharamae21]

Vapor (Part 15)

Hey guys! Since I did two small chapters last time, this is one mega chapter.... Sorry if it sucks, but stuff is happeninggggg 

Also extra long for Rudy’s Birthday!!

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Mentions of violence, abuse, anxiety, and ptsd like symptoms

___________________________________________

I laid in bed with JJ. He was curled up next to me, fast asleep. I watched him carefully, reliving the memories in my head. How could I just freeze like that? How could I let him put himself in danger to protect me. He could’ve gotten seriously hurt. I listened to him stir a bit in his sleep, his arms reaching out for me. I sighed and allowed myself to feel him against my skin. He pulled me into his chest and I closed my eyes, taking in every aspect of him. I needed to stop punishing myself for something that happened to me when I was a kid.

The morning light filtered through the window and woke me up. I tried to grab JJ, but he wasn’t by my side. Panic started to take over. What if the wound got worse? What if he had to go to the hospital? I shot out of bed and walked out into the living room. J was turning the corner, probably on his way back to bed when he saw me. He saw the worry on my face and gave me a quick kiss. I relaxed and wrapped my arms around his waist. He reassured me that he was fine and placed his chin on my head.

“You’re so worried, baby girl,” he muttered. “I’m really fine, I promise.”

I nodded and pressed my head against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. He was very much alive and right in front of me. I worried that one day he wouldn’t be. I clung to his chest and he chuckled softly.

“C’mon princess,” he said. “I wanna go back to sleep for a bit.”

I let out a yawn and nodded, knowing that I hadn’t slept nearly enough. I followed him into the guest room and felt him pull me into the bed. He placed light kisses all over me and then held me tightly, closing his eyes. I followed suit and drifted off.

The rest of the day was chaotic. The guys were multitasking between coming up with a pulley system and melting down the bars of gold that John had managed to get his hands on. I didn’t do much to help though. I was too distracted by all the thoughts running through my head. I felt JJ’s arms wrap around me.

“You know I’m fine, right?” he asked. I nodded. “You need to stop blaming yourself.” “But it’s my fault J,” I said. “I froze!”

His lips met mine in a comforting way. He told me to shut up and held me against him. He told me to stop feeling guilty all the time. His blue eyes showed no sense of blame in them, just love. I nodded and opened my mouth to tell him I loved him, but the words wouldn’t come out. I wanted it to be special, just the two of us. I smiled to myself, promising that I would tell him tonight.

After the gold was “melted” down, we climbed into the van and headed towards the pawn shop. I listened to Kiara and JJ bicker back in forth about the melt job. I chuckled as Sarah asked me if they were always like this. I nodded and gave JJ’s hand a squeeze. He winked at me while Pope told him he got this job because he was the best liar. They weren’t wrong, but his lies sounded so sweet so how could I hold that against him.

I walked around the shop, trying not to focus on the transaction that was trying to be made between JJ and the worker. I knew that I would be stressed out if I heard what was going on. I turned to see the women walking into a backroom. JJ walked over to me and kissed my forehead.

“We’re gonna be rich,” he muttered to me. I chuckled at him. He looked so eager and excited. I giggled and pushed him back towards the counter. He smirked at me over his shoulder and I knew how was already spending the money inside his head. I wondered what he would buy after he paid off his restitution?

The woman at the counter told us we needed to go to the warehouse. Just like that we were off. We climbed back into the van and off we weren’t. I leaned against JJ as the others began to talk about what they’re going to spend their money on. JJ held me tightly and kissed the top of my head.

“What are you going to buy?” I asked him. He looked down at me and told me it was a secret. A felt a pout creep it’s way onto my face, but he wiped it away with a kiss. The only thoughts running through my head were about how lucky I was. I couldn’t wait until we were alone and I could finally tell him I loved him.

We watched as the road became quiet. It was surrounded by trees and there were no other cars on the road. Something about it made us all on edge. I listened to Sarah say she’s never even heard of this road. They guys discuss it for a moment and then lights flash behind us. What was a cop doing all the way out here?

Everything happened so quickly after that. The man who stopped us walked confidently up to John B’s window and pointed a gun straight into his face. I felt my anxiety spike up. My breathing hitched as the man screamed at us to get out. He screamed at us to lay in the ditch. We had walked right into a trap. I felt my breathing increase to an uncontrollable rate as he rummaged through the van. I couldn’t breath, air was coming in, but it wasn’t registering in my head.

“Shit, Addie,” JJ said. He tried to place a hand on my back to calm me down, but the man noticed and pointed the gun at us, telling us not to move. Tears fell from my eyes, as my head got fuzzy. I needed my inhaler and I needed it now. I was too focused on my breathing, or lack there of to notice that JB had gotten up and snuck into the man’s car.

Then when the man found the gold, he walked back and got into the car. John yelled something and JJ got up and ran over. I tried to grab onto him, but I was too weak. I watched as the man knocked him down. I squeezed my eyes shut and gasped for air. I was hyperventilating so hard that my vision blurred. I felt Kie rush over to me and she held my inhaler to my mouth. I took a puff, feeling the medicine run through my lungs. After a while I took another. I felt my whole body relax as I laid back in the grass for a moment.

“We got one last stop,” he said as he walked back towards us. “Let's go see where this son of a bitch lives.”

He got into the driver side seat and didn’t even check up on me. He ignored the state of was in and just waited for us to join him. I hesitantly got back into the car, leaning against Kie as we drove. I really needed JJ’s comfort right now, but he was so focused on whatever mission he was on to care one bit about me. The drive was reckless and everytime I looked at JJ, I saw a new side of him. We pulled up to this trailerhome in the middle of nowhere and JJ got out. I heard Kie say that someone should probably go after him and John said he got it. I worried about how he would handle JJ right now though.

After waiting what seemed forever, they came back out. JJ had a smug smile on his face and I knew that he had done something that would cause trouble later on. He walked over and kissed my forehead.

“Are you okay?” he asked finally. He wiped a few tears from my eyes, before addressing the group. “All right, so we're looking at five grand each for reparations for putting us through that bullshit. Sorry about that, y'all.”

We quickly realized why we had came here and what JJ had done. The group tried to talk some sense into him, but he wasn’t in the listening mood. I watched silently as things escalated and JJ slammed JB into the van. I flinched and felt Kiara’s hand on my back, trying to tell me it was going to be okay. Then, JJ got into the van and waited for us. He looked at me and waited for me to follow suit, but I couldn’t. He was acting like a new person.

“JJ,” I said, speaking for the first time. He looked at me harshly. He looked at me like I was betraying him. He got out of the van and I listened as the group began to tell him he was acting insane. I could see the anger rising in him when Pope spoke up.

“Okay, Pope, I took the fall for you, man! Know how much I owe because of you?” I listened to him demand Pope pay him back now. I listened to him say he took matters in his own hands. I reached forward to grab his hand but he shook it off.

“JJ you’re acting crazy… Back there and here,” I mumbled.

“He had a gun pointed at us, Adelaide!” he yelled. My name rolled of his tongue like an insult. “I had to do sometime and this piece of shit deserves to get stolen from. Sorry that I wasn’t just going to freeze and let you get shot! I’m not the kind of person who lets their friends get hurt for them!”

His words ripped through me worse than any bullet every could. He was right. I froze and he got hurt because I failed him. I listened as he announced that he was going off on his own. He grabbed his backpack and took a few steps.

“JJ… Wait!” I said, tears filling my eyes. I reached out for him, but once again he just shook me off. I sank to my knees. My next words came out like a whisper, maybe even softer than that because I knew he wasn’t listening. “I-I love you…”

JJ’s POV

I walked back into my house. It looked exactly the same as it always had. There were beer bottles everywhere and trash sat in piles on the ground. The counters were cluttered with unopened mail and miscellaneous papers. I yelled out for my dad, but the house seemed pretty empty. I pushed through the door at my house and onto the pouch. There he was.... He was  so focused on something and that he didn’t even acknowledge me at first.

“I've been staying at John B's,” I muttered, looking at him.

“I didn't ask you where you were stayin'. I don't care,” he said, barely looking up. He stood up to grab something. “I knew you’d get hungry.”

“That's not why I came back, Dad,” I said with a sigh. He sat back down and I looked at him. “I got the money.”

“Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it,” he said, continuing his work. I threw the money down on the table and watched him stare at it. Finally, he grabbed the bag and opened it up. His eyes went wide as he told me that I did it. He told me he was proud of me and that he didn’t want to know where I got this from. He told me I could grab a beer from the cooler. For the first time in years I felt happy with him. He praised me and looked so happy staring at that money, but it was short lived. I walked over to the cooler with a smile on my face.

“I think that sale's still on at Guffy's of Makos,” he said, hitting the money on the table and standing up. I felt my stomach sink when I realized what he was going to do next. “They're practically givin' 'em away.”

He grabbed the newspaper ad and pointed at it, shaking the money.

“That's for the restitution,” I said. He wasn’t listening though, he was too focused on whatever was on that ad. I tried to demand his attention. “Dad. Can you please just do the right thing for once, okay?”

“You know how much you cost me, you little shit?” he asked, returning to the father I knew. The one who only cares about himself. He put the money in a water jug and screwed the cap on tight. “This nut? It ain't going to the cops. No. I'm gonna triple it-”

“Dad!” I yelled.

“You got somethin' to say? After everything you done? You wanna get into it?” he asked, grabbing onto my shirt. “I didn't think so. Man, people keep wastin' my time. I gotta fix this motor.”

I stole a glance at the water jug and then back at my father. I knew I had to do the right thing, even if he didn’t want to. I ran forward and grabbed onto the bottle as my dad stood up. I tried to make a break for it, but he shoved me against the house. I let out a groan as I made contact. I felt his fist collide with my left side, then my left cheekbone. I plummeted to the ground, blood dripping out of my mouth.

“Boy, you stay down there,” he said, but I didn’t listen. I got up and leaned my whole body into my punch. I hit him hard in the face, only to have the favor returned to me seconds later. He pinned me on the ground, hands wrapped around my throat. I pushed against his face, trying desperately to get him off of me. I felt my body begging for air. I kneed him hard in the side, knocking him off and got up trying once again to make a break for it, but he grabbed my foot causing me to trip. I felt his boot collide with my side and his hand grab a fistfull of my hair, pulling me back up. He pinned me against the wall, landing a few more punches against my face. Finally I got an opportunity to hit back, knocking both of us through the screen on the deck. I grabbed onto him and flipped him over.

“You gave me nothing! You gave me nothing but a shitty life! All you ever did was try and scare me! Well, guess what, Dad? ” I screamed, breaking down as I hit back. I could feel tears streaming down my face as I pinned him down. I grabbed a wrench and held it ready to hit him, but I couldn’t. I sobbed and tried to find it in me to do it, but it wasn’t there. I dropped it next to him and began to get up. “I ain't scared of you anymore.”

I got up and left him there, grabbing the money on the way out. I thought back to my friends and back to Addie. I was so mean to her back there. I attacked the one thing that had been eating her alive. I shook her off when she grabbed me. I pushed her away when she was the one needing the contact, not me. I knew I had to make it right. We had the gold, spending the money I stole wouldn’t be the end of the world.

That night, I sat and waited at the chateau. I was proud of my decision. I just wanted to see the look on everyone’s face when they saw what I had gotten for us. It was something to say I’m sorry and that I needed them in my life. They were my family. I popped the top off of the champagne bottle as I heard voices in the driveway. I switched on all of the lights and tried to draw their attention over to the hot tub that I was sitting in.

“What the hell?” I heard Pope say. I could hear the car doors closing as  Kie and Pope walking over. There was no sign of Addie though… Where was she? “What did you do, JJ?”

“I got a jet going straight in my butt right now,” I said with a laugh. I tried to be my normal JJ self. I didn’t want to get emotional. I just wanted them to think I was alright. “Y'all should get in immediately, you hear me?”

I heard Pope ask how much it costed. I told him that it was basically everything. Whatever I didn’t spend went towards the telescope that rested next to the hot tub. The telescope that Addie said she would buy when she was little. It was just like the ones she used to draw. It was painted gold with some navy blue accents. It was exactly like what she wanted, but she wasn’t here for me to give it to her. I heard the two tell me that I could’ve done so much other things with the money, but it didn’t matter.

“I got this for you. Guys, look what I did for you! All right? Look at this! Look at this!” I said. I could feel my breath hitch as I spoke. I listened to Kiara breathe out my name and it wasn’t helping. “No, you stop being emotional. It's fine, okay? I mean, it's sweet, right? Everything--just get in!”

I watched Kiara’s face as she stared at me. Without a second thought she climbed into the hot tub and wrapped her arms around me. I wanted Addie here, but Kie was doing everything in her power to fill that position at the moment. She shushed me and pulled my head down to rest on her shoulder. My arms wrapped around her waist as the sobs left my mouth.

”I just couldn't do it. I can't take him anymore! I was gonna kill him. I just wanna do the right thing,” I muttered in between sobs.

“I know,” Kie said, embracing me tightly. “I know.”

Pope joined us in the hot tub and wrapped his arms around the both of us. He tried to comfort me as muffled cries left my mouth. This was the first time they’ve really seen me break down like this. This was the first time they had seen me so weak. I stole a glance at the telescope and knew that Addie was the only one whose ever seen me like this. She’s seen every side of me and she still wanted to be by my side. I sniffled and told them I would be back in a little bit. I broke out of their arms and dried off, not wanting the water on me to ruin the telescope at all. I needed to apologize to her. I needed to give this to her. I needed to tell her I loved her and I needed her to actually hear it this time.

____________________________________________

SORRY IF YOU GOT NOTIFIED TWICE MY TAGLIST IS WEIRD

Tag List : @thebendslikebendover @justcallmesams @jellyfishbeansontoast @prejudic3 @jjtheangel @jiaraendgame @obxmxybxnk @waywardbarbie @talksoprettyjjx @bb-tings @agirlwholovescoffee-blog @thoughtsofthestars @outerbankslut @potterheadhollander @baby-pogue @obxlife @queenieloveswriting @rockyyc77 @beth-winchester21 @outerbongs @sunwardsss @ilovejjmaybank @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @jjmaybankwildtimes @canibeoneofthepogues @raekenliar @jjpogueprincess @casper17 @waywardbabie

[angelicwolf98]

Dark Anticipations

A/N: This is my first time posting fanfic on here so please go easy on me. I wrote this almost two years ago, so, for now, it's unedited. My writing has greatly improved since then, so I want to see what people think of the story and see if it’s worth rewriting or not.

Pairings: platonic!Mark x OC, platonic!Jack x OC

Warnings: mild violence

Pain.

That’s the first thing my brain is able to register as I slowly regain consciousness. A dull, throbbing pain that reverberates throughout my skull.

What happened? Where am I?

Then I hear the voices. Fear grips my heart at the realization that I’m not alone. Continuing to feign sleep, I do my best to listen in on the conversation, hoping it could shed some light on what the heck’s going on.

There are two voices, both male. One voice has a deep baritone, while the other is more high pitched with an accent that I can’t quite place. These voices sound so familiar, yet I can’t put my finger on where I’ve heard them before.

“How long do you think she’ll be asleep?” the accented voice asks.

“I don’t know,” the deep voice responds. “From what I can tell, she took a pretty hard hit to the head, so she may be out a while.”

“I just don’t understand why they brought her here. I mean, what do they want with a freaking kid?”

The deep voice sighed, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

A sudden wave of intense pain shoots through my head, causing me to involuntarily groan.

“I think she’s waking up,” the accent says.

“Hey, are you okay?”

A large hand is placed on my arm, startling me. I quickly sit up and crawl backward as fast as I can until a wall prevents me from moving any further.

“Whoah, hey! Easy, easy. It’s all right, we’re not gonna hurt you,” the deep voice says.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm my pounding heart, I finally focus on these two strangers. The minute I look up at them, my jaw drops. I now realize why their voices had sounded so familiar; it’s because I know exactly who these guys are. I mean, how could I not! I watch their Youtube videos every single day!

I glanced at the man to my left. He had dark brown hair that was flipped to the side, facial hair that was more stubble than anything else, and bright brown eyes that were filled with concern. He had tan skin, and his facial features suggested that he was probably part Asian. He was pretty built, but his muscles seemed relaxed, and his hands were slightly raised in a non-threatening way.

Focusing on the other man, I can tell that he’s slightly built too, even though he’s much skinnier than his friend. His dark brown hair is similar to the other guy’s, except it’s more spiked at the top. This man’s facial hair is more grown out, but not to the extent of being called an actual beard. He has pale, white skin, and cerulean blue eyes that are also filled with concern.

“Are you okay, lass?” the pale guy asks in his accent.

Lass…

His accent…

It’s Irish…

I mentally slap myself for not recognizing this sooner. Still gaping at these two men, I struggle to find my voice.

“Y-you’re, you’re Markiplier…” I stutter towards the Asian. “And you’re… Jacksepticeye…” I look at the Irish man in awe. Their concern soon turns into surprise.

“So… you do know who we are?” Jack asks. I can only nod. Of course, I know who they are! They’re two of the biggest names on Youtube! Well, on the gaming side of Youtube, anyway.

As the shock of seeing my two idols finally wore off, my mind was immediately bombarded with a million questions. What are they doing here? What am I doing here? Where exactly is “here”?

I glance around to find that we’re in some kind of filthy, dank holding cell. The only piece of furniture is an equally filthy single mattress that lays at my feet. I’m guessing that’s where I’d been laying only a few minutes before. I see a rusted bed frame in the far corner, which is probably where the mattress came from. Seeing just how aged and fragile the metal looked, I can understand why they would choose to lay on the floor instead of the bed.

“I know you probably have a lot of questions,” Mark speaks up, “and I promise we’ll answer as much as we can. Is it all right if we sit with you?” He asks this hesitantly, and I can tell he’s trying his best to show he means me no harm. I hesitantly nod, and they both sit on either side of me.

I don’t know how long we sat there talking, but what I do know is that as time passed, I began to feel more comfortable around them, more…safe. I told them that my name was Hailey Peters and I had just turned fifteen only two weeks prior. I explained that all I could remember was that I went for a walk after being cooped up inside all day due to a heavy snow closing school. I slipped on some ice, hit my head, and before everything went dark, I had seen two pairs of glowing eyes looking down at me.

Mark and Jack tensed as I said that. I looked up at them, seeing the distress in their eyes.

“You know who brought us here, don’t you?”

Mark sighed, “You wouldn’t believe us.”

“Try me.”

“You know our evil alter egos, that the fans made up and we brought them to life in our videos?” Mark asked.

I nodded. I knew all about Jack’s and Mark’s demonic alter egos, or better known as Antisepticeye and Darkiplier.

“Well, somehow, they’re real…and they’re the ones who took us…” Jack continued.

I let this new information sink in. Dark and Anti are real… and they kidnapped us… no. No no no no no. Heck no!

I stood up and faced the two Youtubers.

“Look, I may be one of those fangirls that squeals every time Dark or Anti makes an appearance in your videos, but I know fact from fiction!” I started rambling, “I mean, what is this, a fanfic! There’s no way Darkiplier and Antisepticeye are real!”

“Oh, but my dear, we are very real.”

I froze as a deep, demonic voice spoke behind me. Mark and Jack jumped up quickly, their eyes wide with fear as they stared at the figure behind me. I slowly turned around and came face to face with not one, but two demonic beings. The very beings that I didn't believe existed until now… Darkiplier and Antisepticeye.

They looked completely identical to Mark and Jack, but at the same time, were completely different. Dark was clad in his usual attire of a white dress shirt and grey suit, which matched his deathly grey skin. Anti wore black torn jeans and a black t-shirt that was stained with the blood that dripped from the slit in his throat. His pasty, white skin had a greenish hue to it, while Dark was surrounded by a blue and red aura of light.

I gasped in fear and began to back away from the demons before I felt a firm hand grip my shoulder and pull me backward. The next thing I know, Mark was standing in front of me, shielding me from Dark’s piercing red eyes. Jack moved forward a bit, trying to keep his counterpart’s malicious green eyes on him instead of me.

I was silently grateful for them attempting to keep me out of harm’s way, even though we had just met. Because I knew very well what these alter egos were capable of, and the fact that they were alive terrified me.

“Ḑ̣̔̄ò̘̐ͅ ̫͚̀̕y̖̭͆͗ỏ̠̣́û̘̞́ ̣̙̂̆b̛̫̱̆ė̢͍̈́l̳̰͂͠ì̝͖̾e̪̲͂̓v̜̲́̓e̱͚͂͒ ̟̥̀͛w̬͖͒̈́ĕ̼͙͋'̞̼̈́́r̬̻̒̔e̝̱͊͠ ͖͓̇͝ŕ̯͆͜e͚͓̅͊a͕̘͌̈́l̩̙̎͝ ̨̗̍͐n̛͔̩̆o̩̙̾̽ẉ̬̂͐,͍̈́̉ͅ ̫̳̇̊H̥̤̄͘a̩͇͛̚i̳̘̊̊l̫̜̅͝e͈͚͆̈́ý̢̗͐?” Anti asked with a psychotic smile.

My heart skipped a beat at the fact he knew my name. Jack placed his hands on my shoulders as Mark kept his stance between me and the demons, both men's eyes never leaving the glares of their egos.

“What do you want, Dark?” Mark finally asked.

Dark smirked, “I thought it would be obvious. We’re here for the girl.”

My body shook with fear, and I felt Jack’s grip tighten on my shoulders.

“Over our dead bodies,” Jack growled.

The demons chuckled. “W̲̑e͊ͅ'̱͑l̼̽l̝̕ ͓̐g̈́͜l̮̉a͎̿d̙̔l͙͝y̰͠ ̫͛t͚̋a̠͋k͙̎ẽ̱ ̖̈́ṷ͛p̲̊ ̪̎ṭ̀h͇̑ḛ̀ ̡͆o̖͗f̠͒f̛̹e̮̕r̂͜…”

“Once our plan is complete.”

Dark flicked his hand, sending Mark and Jack flying across the cell. They slammed against the wall, Jack slid to the ground while Mark crashed into the old bed frame, causing it to completely fall apart. Before I could even react, Dark and Anti grabbed my arms and dragged me away. I kicked and screamed, fighting with all my might, but it was no use. I was powerless against these two demons.

“Hailey!!”

I heard my name echo through the hallway as Mark and Jack threw themselves at the cell bars, all the while yelling threats and curses at the demons. Dark and Anti took no acknowledgment of it as the dragged me into a room and tied me to a chair. By this point, I was crying, my anxiety spiking to new heights.

“What do you want with me?!”

Anti chuckled maliciously, “Y͋͜ó̭u͕̔ ̢̈s̢͂ȇ̲e̬̾,̠͝ ̭̽ḱ̪ĩ̢t̫͊t̮̓e͍͗n̦̐,” I cringed at that nickname, “ĕ͉v̘́e̱̓n̰͠ ̣̅t͔͆h͓͂o̭̚u̝͆g̤͠h̛͕ ͈́ẅ́ͅe̠͂ ̥̌a̬̋r̨̅e̠̋ ̥̀o̤̾ư̫r̨̂ ̻̂o̺͐w̼͝n̡͊ ̺̉ḇ̈́e̥͝ǐ̠ñ͓ǵ͜ŝ͕,o͆ͅů̗ṟ̆ ̼̈́ẽ̢s̺̓s̡̚e̩̽n͇̋c̤̈́e̝̾ ̣͐ị̌s͚̃ ̙͑ŝ̟t̯̾ȋ͖l̐ͅl̰̎ ̮̄c̞̈́o͓̔ṇ̽n̦̅e̦͂ç͝t͉̃e̺̎ḍ̓ ͂ͅt̠̽o͌ͅ ͉̉t̠̾h̖͊o̯͆ş̐e̛ͅ ̧̓m͕̋o̤͛r̞̄o̭͆ṅ̢s̝͗.W͐ͅh͚̉ḯ̗c̼͂h̻̀ ̲̕m̹͒e͙͛a̺͑ň͕s̟̓ ̦͐ị̚f̥͗ ̜̆t͖̓h̭͑e̠͌y̼͝ ̻̍d̼͒ì̻ẹ̉…”

“…we die.” Dark continued. “While we can hurt them all we want, we can’t kill them without killing ourselves. So to free us of this, we need the blood of our makers, and the essence of an untainted soul.” Dark smirked at the as my mind struggled to wrap around this information. They needed my soul… They were going to take my soul…

“Ẇ͙e͑͜'̺͗v̜͐ë͓́ ̧͝n͎̑e̖͊v̝̏e̜̚ȓ͚ ͕͝s̲͠e̜̾ẻ̱ṅ̞ ͍͝s͓̅ō̼m̱̈́ė̝ō̜ṇ́e̪̾ ̦͋s̪̚o̪̓ ͖͐p̡̈́u̖̅r̯͝e͔̾,” Anti said as he scraped his fingernails across the blade of a very large knife. Dark slowly walked behind me as Anti continued to speak, “I̲͌t͎̑ ̜͘w͙̚ȃͅs̱̎ ̣̇a̺̎l̼̒l̦͝ ̐ͅs̨̑o̼̒ ̬̈p̲̈́e͕̍r͕͌f̣̄e̼̋č͚t̳̍,̬͂ ͚̋u̦̓ś̢ ̫͒f̺͐i̧̓n͚͋d̮͘i͕̎ñ͍g̬̽ ̰͠t͖̚h̡̍ḛ̆ ̳́v͍̎é̥r͍̾y̘͝ ͙̃t̯̆h̫͝ĭ̞n̡̕g̜̐ ̦͐w͙͐e̼͘ ͓͐ṉ̉ě̳e̝̓d̟͐e̝̔ď̥ ͎̊m͔̂o̫͝s̡̏ẗ̺́.”

“And now, we can finally be free.” Dark was now standing behind me. He gripped my hair painfully tight and yanked my head back, exposing my neck. Anti walked towards me, an insane glint in his green eyes as he raised the blade. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing that there was no escape. Just as I felt the cool metal touch my delicate skin, a loud bang filled the room.

“W̧̊h̗̿à̤t͖̄ ̧̎t̮̄h͍̎e̝̒—”

I opened my eyes just in time to see Jack smack Anti across the face with a metal pipe. He fell to the ground.

“How did you—” Before Dark could finish, Mark tackled him to the ground and stabbed him in the chest with a knife he had grabbed off the wall. Mark began untying my hands from behind me while Jack worked at the ropes around my feet.

“How’d you get out?” I asked as the astonishment wore off.

“Took a screw from the bed frame. Picked the lock,” Jack huffed breathlessly.

Suddenly, I saw movement behind him. Just as I yelled in warning, Anti lunged at Jack and pinned him to the ground. Jack used all his strength to hold Anti’s arm back, which still held the knife. Mark freed my hands and rushed to help his friend as I finished untying my feet. Once I was finally free, I looked up to see Anti lying on the ground with his very own knife protruding from his chest. Before I could say anything, Mark grabbed my hand and we all bolted out the door, ran through the maze of hallways, and finally found the exit. But we didn't stop there.

Once we were outside, we continued to run, trying to put as much distance between them and us. We kept running until we couldn't run anymore. By the time we stopped, the building we had escaped was miles away. All three of us collapsed as we caught our breath. It was only now that I realized we’re in the middle of a forest.

“Hailey, are you okay?” Jack asked breathlessly. I looked at him with tired eyes.

“I-I don’t know…” I then told the boys everything that had occurred while we were separated. When they heard about the demons’ plan, their faces fell in defeat. I knew what they were thinking. As long as Dark’s essence is attached to Mark’s, and Anti’s to Jack’s, then they weren’t really dead. They’d be back, and probably very ticked off.

Mark hoisted himself up. “Come on, we should keep moving. Who knows how long we have before…” He trailed off, but Jack and I both knew what he meant. We were all thinking it. We may have escaped, and we may be safe. But the question was, for how long?

[aliceslantern]

Beyond this Existence: New Life, short 26--History

Recovery is a tedious, nonlinear process. Demyx, Ienzo, and the others living in Radiant Garden's castle have to learn to come to terms with their pasts and their memories, learn to grow, and begin to understand what, exactly, it means to be human. While there is unexpected joy in this, there is also unexpected sorrow. A series of oneshots set after Beyond this Existence.

Current short: “History.”  Ienzo gathers the stories of the survivors and presents them to Even. The effects of the darkness linger.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Even turned the manuscript over in his hand, as though feeling the quality of the paper. “I never pictured you as a soft scientist,” he said, his tone mostly unreadable.

Ienzo sighed. His vision was cut into odd little slivers; he wasn’t quite used to his new glasses, his eyes scrambling to adjust. “You’re going to be frightfully disappointed in me, but I no longer derive any pleasure or fulfillment from so-called “harder” subjects.”

Even stared at him. “Why on earth would I be disappointed?”

“I do recall a period in my life when you found my perusal of fiction a waste of time, when I could be studying.”

He set the manuscript down onto his desk. “We all know what a fool I was, back then. No.” He smiled. “The only way I’d be disappointed in you was if you were to waste your life faffing about. But you were never lazy.” He ran his finger along the paper spine.

Ienzo frowned a little. “I understand the… trepidation, you might feel,” he said slowly. “And… it is quite harrowing.”

Even’s eyes dropped, became distant. “I can only imagine what the experience has been like, for you.”

“...Gathering these stories?” He thought about it. “Not everyone is… willing to share such dark content of their hearts. I’ve had more than one door slammed in my face.” He knotted his hands together tightly. “I’d hoped that my suspicion regarding everyone’s opinion of us was mere paranoia, but some folks do feel a certain… ire. Not that I can blame them.” Some people hadn’t even let him speak to them; others were more direct.

“We don’t blame you,” one woman had said. “We know you were Ansem’s ward. But how can we trust that any information we give to you will be used for good? None of it was before.”

Others, however, had been incredibly welcoming. “If I’ve seen anything in my life, we all deserve second chances,” an older woman had said. “If you’re good in the committee’s book, you’re good in mine.”

The stories flooded his life; the losses, the difficulty to adjust to a new and alien world (had these worlds truly been here all along?), the nightmares, the darkness. Ienzo could not offer them much comfort other than an attempt at catharsis. Any attempt at more psychological treatment would be uncalled for.

Rather than hold their minds in his hands, he now held their hearts; he could only hope he could be worthy of it. “It’s… worth it, to hear their voices,” Ienzo said softly. “We… need to understand the human impact. I don’t mean the numbers.” He forced himself to meet Even’s eyes. “I have… written something of an abridged memoir, myself.”

Even digested this; his expression became pinched. Then, he sighed. “It would only make sense. You are one of the victims.”

“Victim and perpetrator in one.” He shook his head slowly, then rolled his eyes. “Seems I am fated to live in dichotomy.” He took a breath. “I have already spoken to the others. It might be valuable to give your own version of events. Not necessarily for publication.”

Even smirked. “For the good of my recovery?”

“Well, yes. You had said you were trying to write and reflect, to delineate a new identity. How is this any different? Your perspective could offer some insight to future generations, when they inevitably look back at all this.” A warm, needling pain bloomed inside of his skull, and he flinched without meaning to.

“...Record keeping,” Even muttered. “Very well. I… will consider it. Are you alright?”

Ienzo touched his temple and winced. “I had hoped these new glasses would lessen my headaches, but that appears not to be the case.”

“You’re still getting them? After all this time?” He frowned.

“Not frequently. You needn’t worry.” He forced a smile. “Take as much time as you’d like with it. I have other copies.”

“I shall, but…” Even gave him a once-over. “Do let that fiance of yours take a look at you. Apparently he’s quite competent.”

Ienzo hesitated; his engagement was supposed to have been private, but now it was something of an open secret.

He raised an eyebrow. “Did you actually think you could keep it under wraps? What with Dilan's inane gossiping?”

“Not… secret.” He felt his face reddening. “I don’t see why my personal life should be of interest to anyone.”

“Of course it will be, when we live on top of one another.” Even went to speak, then hesitated. “You are so… very young. So young.”

The repetition of it caused Ienzo to blush again, though no longer with embarrassment. “As nobody will let me forget. Heaven forbid I be allowed to make my own choices.”

“I don’t want you to get into something so permanent. You’re barely stable yourself.”

Ienzo bit his tongue. He took a breath to calm himself.

“Even if you were not only twenty-one, you’ve only been with him a year. I realize you are not used to the idea of permanence, but--”

“It was I who asked him.”

This seemed to throw Even. “I’d’ve--figured--”

“Demyx is very respectful of my boundaries. He would not force me into anything I did not explicitly ask for. Should it end, we will deal with it maturely. But I don’t see that happening.”

For a few moments neither of them spoke. “Do you truly want this?” Even asked. “Would it make you happy?”

“Yes,” he said. “And I am already happy.” His headache was worsening. “Insofar as I can be, anyway.”

Even considered this. “I suppose I will always see you as a… child,” he admitted.

Ienzo sighed. He tried to smile. “Par for the course when you raise someone.You were always… more my guardian than Ansem. But you must trust I am able to make my own decisions. After all, you--” He felt heat rise to his face.

“I what?”

“It was not me you came back to Radiant Garden for.”

“You know why I had to leave. Ienzo, I did not want to, but who else would’ve--”

“...I know.” He bit his lip. “Still. A note would’ve been appreciated. You needn’t protect me anymore. Especially from him.”

Even sighed. “Old habits die hard. Or so the cliche goes.”

“...Right. Well. I shall leave you to it, then.”

Ienzo made his way home slowly. He figured he was developing a migraine--not nearly so uncommon since he'd been trying to relearn magic, especially so since that stunt with the fire. His stomach churned, and he was experiencing vertigo, both sure symptoms. Demyx had left him medication. It would be a sleepy, wasted afternoon, but he’d be fine. He stumbled; to the untrained eye he probably looked drunk. His body was so unwieldy. He dug in his pocket for his keys and with shaking fingers tried to unlock the door, only to drop them with a rattling that seemed much louder than it actually was. He finally got the door open, and was more relieved than he’d like to admit to see Demyx on the couch, strumming Arpeggio idly, with a dreamy look on his face.

“Hey babe,” he said. “How was your day?”

Beans rubbed at his ankles. The touch was like a shock. He swallowed bile. “Demyx?”

The shift in his expression was immediate; Arpeggio disappeared and he all but vaulted over to him. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel peculiar.” Not quite in his body. Not quite present.

“How?” He took Ienzo’s wrist, his pulse.

He tried to speak, but the words couldn’t come; something seemed to register in Demyx’s eyes.

“Lay down,” he said gently, easing him to the floor. The hardwood seemed unusually cold. Some wadded fabric was shoved under his head, his vision strange and sheeny. Why was he on the floor and not on the couch, the bed? “This is going to feel warm,” Demyx added.

Ienzo felt hands on either side of his face. It wasn’t just warm; it was hot, burning, but he was no longer able to tell him anything.

“...Right,” he heard Demyx say. “Right.”

Ienzo hoped he would explain.

“Hold still,” he heard instead. “Try to relax.”

How could he? He could barely move. The heat moved through his scalp, deep within (the brain didn’t have nerve endings; where was this pain coming from?) and sharpened into agony.

“I’m sorry,” Demyx said. “Just--”

As suddenly as the pain came, it faded, replaced by heat for what seemed an eternity, until it subsided, a cold so intense he shivered, but at least his body seemed to be under his control again. Ienzo blinked. “What--”

There were tears in his eyes, Ienzo noted. “I’m going to put you to sleep for a little while,” he said thickly. “I’ll explain everything when you wake up.”

The heaviness of Sleep overtook him. When he woke, he was in his bed, and it was dark. A thin film of sweat crawled along his skin. Ienzo sat up slowly. He turned on the lamp at the bedside. “Demyx?” His voice was scratchy. He thought he heard something in the bathroom, water.

The door opened. “Should’ve figured you’d wake up the second I turned my back,” he muttered. “Had to pee for hours and of course--” He bit his lip, then crossed over to Ienzo. His hands were still a little damp when he took his vitals.

“I don’t suppose that was an ordinary migraine,” Ienzo said.

“Try not to talk,” he said, without making eye contact. “There’s not an easy way to say this.”

He felt his anxiety spike.

Demyx sat at his feet. Now that he was in the light, Ienzo noted how terrible he looked; pale, sweaty, and flushed. Exactly how he always looked when he used too much magic, too fast. “So you had a stroke,” he said. He bit his lip.

He knew he was supposed to be quiet, but he spoke without meaning to-- “No, I was just ill--”

“Ienzo, shut up, please.” His eyes were watering, and he blinked, trying to drive the tears away. “The symptoms are… really similar,” he said slowly. “Sometimes you can even mistake a small stroke for a bad migraine. But it feels… different, inside your head. It’s a good thing that I was there, because I was able to fix it right away. Even luckier that I literally was just studying this a few days ago.” He hiccuped. “You’re fine now, but I…” The tears broke free. “How long have we been ignoring what’s been forming inside you? You’ve had headaches for a year. A year .” His previous professionalism was slipping, and he held a hand over his mouth, muffling sobs. “It could’ve… triggered a brain bleed, it could’ve--”

“It’s not your--” Seeing his expression, Ienzo cut himself off.

“Aerith’s coming to look at you,” he said. “In case there’s anything else I missed. Try not to… move, or talk, unless you really need to.”

Ienzo settled back against the sheets, reeling. He tried to take Demyx’s hand, to give it a reassuring squeeze, but he was shaken. These headaches of his had all along been part of a larger problem; he’d had a feeling, especially since the last time he’d blacked out. He couldn’t blame them for not understanding what it was. The way the will affected the body was not something anyone studied. There was no way to qualify how it worked. Maybe there hadn’t been any other signs that could be fixed, no sign a scan could pick up, anyway.

The door creaked open. “I had to… check on something,” Aerith said to Demyx. “I think I figured it out. You look terrible.”

“I’ve never done the spell before.”

“Have some ether. I’ll take it from here.” She approached Ienzo. Her braid was frizzy, like she’d done it in a hurry. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay. I think. Sleepy.” Would shorter, clipped sentences help?

“No pain or numbness anywhere?” She prodded him.

“No.”

“I’m going to look at you. It’s going to feel warm.”

Ienzo flinched, bracing himself for the same terrible heat, but the sensation was gentle.

“Well, there’s nothing left ,” she said, to Demyx. “He feels more or less healthy--”

“Then what was this?”

“An accumulation.” She looked at Ienzo. “The people I work with… haven’t normally been through so much.”

He chanced a question. “Like what?”

She drummed her fingers together. “...Permutations of being,” she said slowly. “From darkness, to nothingness, back to light. Putting your body through all those changes… the stress is going to sow seeds that won’t emerge for years. And considering you wore down your will twice… It must’ve exacerbated the symptoms.” Aerith frowned. “Think of it like… a person who really doesn’t take care of themselves. Will you feel it at twenty? No. But suddenly at forty you keel over with a heart attack. I’m hoping--and what I read supports this--that once you reach and get through the crisis point, you won’t have to deal with it again. Essentially reset to zero with magic. Demyx.”

He looked up, drying his eyes.

“You’ve been through the process twice. I want to look at you too. Maybe not now. But tomorrow.” She twirled the end of her braid. “It’s actually kind of… common. So many people here have gone through so much stress, and the darkness, too. Of course that’s going to affect the body.”

“Will I be okay?” Ienzo asked.

She squeezed his hand. “He did a good job. I’ll check in on you regularly, and you tell me the instant you get the smallest headache. But I think you’ll be fine--just get some rest these next few days. Nothing strenuous.”

“My body seems hell bent on destroying me,” Ienzo remarked dryly.

“I have a feeling you’re going to do a whole lot better,” she said. “Please take it easy. Both of you.”

For a long while after they left they lay side by side on the bed in the dark, trying and failing to get some sleep. Ienzo could hear Demyx trying to stop crying. “I don’t think it would be too strenuous to hold you,” he said softly. “Come here.” He rested his head against Demyx’s chest. “I don’t suppose this is the… best time to tell you. Even found out about us. It feels these walls have ears.”

Demyx was still shuddering. “What did he say?”

“About what I expected. That I’m so young to make this decision. But I… what happened today only proves I made the right choice.” He was glad for the dark, the way it hid his face. “I want to have as much time with you as possible. I can’t afford to be cautious.” He could feel his own emotions welling up within.

“Shit happens,” Demyx said tiredly.

“Exactly.”

“I hope she’s right. For my sanity.” He didn’t say it, but Ienzo sensed it-- I can’t keep doing this. “But I… I’m excited to be married to you.”

“I am too.”

---

Aerith ended up being right; he did not get headaches after it was over, any more than an ordinary person might. His scans came back continually clean. Even and Dilan delved into this new vein of research regarding the effect of darkness and nothing on bodies; it excited them. They hoped to be able to help everyone else who was suffering. It seemed sometimes as though the second they got a hold on how much damage had been done, something happened to make it clear this was only the beginning. This was the nature of recovery.

Ienzo returned to his normal alcove in the library for some light reading. He found his manuscript on the desk, flooded with sticky notes and, he suspected, suggested edits. He sighed. Even may have been the better critical thinker, but he was not necessarily the better writer.

Lying below this was a composition book, filled with steady, painstaking writing. Even’s story, the beginning of it: The boy, when we took him in, was numb, traumatized; he did not speak. I all but begged him to find a family in town, but his mind was made up, and the small genius became his son. I found myself caring more about the child than I wanted to admit; the others, too, drawn to the glow of his potential. Strange to read about himself in the third person.

They found him lying facedown in a pool of water after a storm; eighteen or so, strong, his hair a shocking silver. He remembered nothing aside from a name that was to haunt us all--Xehanort.

Ienzo flipped through the pages wearily.

He seemed to have taken with Ansem’s ward. Ansem figured this may have had something to do with his past--perhaps a forgotten sibling. It was so difficult to get Ienzo to speak; I would not dare take the only easy conversation he had from him. What I did not realize quickly enough was that Ienzo was no friend of Xehanort’s, no pet; he was a puppet.

Those memories...

Ansem was livid when he discovered we’d repurposed our experiments. He, a man who hardly ever raised his voice, chewed out golden boy Xehanort with more vitriol than I'd ever experienced. We were discovering the very building blocks of the soul; didn’t he realize how momentous this was? Ansem always held his ideals above all, up to and including the people in his life. I figured this was more of that frippery. But he was always better at seeing the bigger picture than I.  

I was wrong, and a fool; there was a reason they called him Ansem the Wise.

Ienzo couldn’t look away; it was like a trainwreck. He realized he’d needed this, to hear what Even had to say. There was so much left to the story.

[tibbygetsrekt]

         Guess who went to their first Pride today! Guess who also has HELLA social anxiety but was determined to do it anyways? This guy. So while I was at work trying not to think about it I wrote a thing! And then I went to Pride in South Dakota of all places and it was pretty damned amazing tbh. Anyways fic using self insert in the TF2 fandom with Heavy below the cut. 

Ta, Tiberius

“Assassin?’

     They heard the team calling for them, but couldn’t move. They were exhausted. From smiling, from everyone being too close, being touched, touching other people. They were wore the fuck out and had no inclination to answer anyone. Instead they were curled up inside the crate that Sasha was resting on.

     It was safe there, no one would touch Sasha, and would avoid the room to make sure Heavy didn’t think that they touched Sasha. Moving to lay on their stomach, Assassin dropped their head onto their arm, thumb pressing the volume up on their phone, music crooning through their ears, and just tried to make the world go away.

     And didn’t realize they’d fallen asleep until vibrations coming through the ground alerted them to someone coming. To be honest they weren’t even sure the team liked them, they always seemed to be on, always loud, always on some other bullshit. But they couldn’t help themselves being surrounded all the time with so many people. Even three people could be considered too many.

     Turning the music down to be able to actually hear, they lifted their head and fought the urge to scoot back in the crate. Don’t move and they’ll go away, don’t speak and they won’t hear you. The light flicked on, and Assassin flinched, blinking a few times before being able to see properly.

     There was one person who would go near Sasha, watching Heavy’s boots begin walking towards the crate. Trying to make themselves smaller despite the fact he couldn’t see them, Assassin could still feel their anxiety digging its claws into the back of their neck.

“I know you are here, Assassin.’

     They didn’t answer, feeling their throat clench as the anxiety spiked all over again. They trusted Heavy, even when he was furious he’d never actually kill them. But the idea of those hands touching them, even just to drag them out of the box made them feel panicked. The boots moved out of sight, and part of them relaxed, a small part that was dumb and thought out of sight meant safe.

     Assassin’s phone fell from their hand as Sasha was moved, the crate rocking. Looking up they saw Heavy’s fingers curl around the lip of the crate and only had a moment to realize what he meant to do before their world shifted as he flipped the crate upright. Without a side of the box to block the bulb, it was too bright, and Assassin’s eyes teared up, crouching down in the crate and covering their head with both arms.

“Ah… it is that time.’

     They heard something that didn’t make much sense, a few things, and they yanked out their earbuds trying to rally the outlandish personality they put on for the rest of the team. But they hadn’t had enough time to recharge their battery.

     Lightbulb, shattered. Chair, dragged. Heavy, sat. Their mind finally registered the sounds they’d heard, wiping at their face hurriedly before lifting their head again. It was dark in the room, but they could make out Heavy’s silhouette above them, his arms crossed on the rim of the crate.

“Did you eat today?’

“No.’ They scowled up at his grunt. “I wasn’t hungry.’

“You are never hungry when you should be, toksichnyy tsvetok.’

     That was fair, Assassin wrapping their earbuds and cord around their phone. But they stayed crouched low in the box, even though their body was screaming for a hug. It was also still screaming don’t touch me, and Assassin sniffled against their better judgment. Heel of their hand swiping at their cheeks, they reached up to grab the opposite lip of the crate and stood to perch on it.

“How did you know where to find me?’

“When you were not on the fridge, or in the rafters, or any of your other ridiculous places, I thought you might be… dealing.’

“That’s a nice way of putting it, yeah.’ Sniffing, swiping at their nose with their wrist, they could still hear the rest of the team calling for them.

“I do not understand your other places, you hate heights. Very much. Why?’

“Because I hate that I hate them, I didn’t used to.’

“Ah, facing your fears. That is a good thing.’ He still hadn’t moved, and they suddenly realized that he was talking softly.

“And if I jump you catch me.’ They added, a poor effort to put back on the over enthusiastic mask they wore. The smile didn’t last a second, their hand slowly moving towards where his arms were stacked before pulling back. “And, y’know because I sometimes pretend I fell and you caught me.’

“I will always catch you.’

     Their chest clenched tightly, feeling the hot prick of tears in their eyes.

“Well I am a trained assassin, dontcha know, I could probably pull off a three point landing if I wanted.’

“Yes, and ruin your knees for your old age.’

     They couldn’t argue that, legs swinging gently, heels lightly thumping against the box. Outside the door they heard someone run past calling for them, and froze, head snapping towards the door in case they came back to check the room. They didn’t, and Assassin slowly relaxed again, looking back towards Heavy’s silhouette.

“You are feeling a little better, yes?’

“Yeah, no I’m feeling a lot better.’ They lied, a tight smile he couldn’t see. “Just needed a bit of quiet to get my head back together, y’know.’

“I do know.’ He chuckled. “It’s always amusing watching you lose the battle, because you never seem to notice until it is too late.’

“So glad I can amuse you, Heavy. My only life mission.’

“I know it’s bad, that you are hurting yourself, but the little twitches, and too bright smiles, they are amusing.’

“No, yeah no I get it. A laugh riot, eh.’ Swinging their legs over the crate’s side to get out of the box entirely, they were caught off guard by hands wrapping around their waist.

     Reacting, they squirmed and twisted, feet straining to touch ground, Assassin let out a cough when they were suddenly hugged tightly.

“Jeez! What is this?’ More squirming did nothing, finally going limp as they crossed their arms over their chest.

“It is better I laugh at this then get concerned.’ Heavy’s chin rested on their shoulder, ignoring their sulking. “When I get concerned I get angry, and I would begin punching anyone who cannot tell you need to get away.’

“Oh.’

     They could see that happening, Heavy suddenly punching Soldier in the face for being too loud, Scout for how fast he was talking, Medic for getting into their personal space, Spy for staring too long… the entire fort would find itself flipped upside out.

“You’d do that for me?’ Unaware that they were rubbing their cheek against his, Assassin tried to shake the image of Heavy on a rampage. “You’ve known them longer though-’

“Which is why I try to find your pain cute, so I do not murder my comrades.’

“That’s… oofta that’s so sweet!’ Dramatically laying a hand over their heart, Assassin laughed when he grunted and put them down finally.

     Turning they reached up to cup his face, going on tip toe to press a kiss to his lower lip. They weren’t prepared to find themself crushed against him, his arms right as he hugged them.

“I worry that one day you will leave and not find your way back on a very bad day.’

“What? That’s crazy talk, yeah? I’m like a wild cat you fed, and now you’re stuck with me.’ Arms wrapping around his shoulders, they nuzzled against his neck. It was hard to be scared of anything when Heavy held them.

“You need a safe word.’

“I have one! It’s Cary Grant, but I didn’t think you were into that sorta thing… Seems more Medic’s thing, or Scout… …. Maybe Spy.’

“Nyet, I mean for when everything becomes too much. Something for you to say, so I can help you leave before it gets really bad.’

“That’s…’ they wanted to say dumb, but… “Okay, so if I notice, then I should say… …. ……. I dunno?’

“Sasha.’ Assassin pulled back a bit, staring at him in the dark. “If it starts becoming too much you say Sasha, and I will chase you from the room. It will look like a game to our comrades. Or I will yell that you touched Sasha again and chase you from the room if you are pushing yourself too far.’

“I think you just like yelling at me, you big oaf.’ They let their head fall back onto his shoulder but didn’t sound angry, they sounded amused.

“You like my yelling.’ He said as he nuzzled their neck, finally putting them down. “You have very strange tastes, toksichnyy tsvetok.’

“I’m wired all sorts of wrong, so that’s no surprise.’ When Heavy began to move towards the door, they didn’t follow.

     He stopped, turning around.

“Can we stay here a bit longer?’

“Yes.’

     Going back to the chair he sat, reaching out to pull them to sit on his knee, an arm around their waist. Lifting their legs, they rested their feet on his other leg and leaned against him.

“This is not a good place to sleep.’

“I’m not sleepy, I just don’t want to-’

“When you are dealing, you get very tired. I will not be surprised when you fall asleep in a few minutes.’

“I will not!’

     But they did, not even five minutes sitting in the dark, cuddled close to Heavy’s chest, Assassin fell asleep, one hand clutching at Heavy’s shirt. Rolling his eyes, he tucked his other arm under their knees and stood. It took him a moment to get the door opened, lips twitching with amusement when Assassin shifted, pressing their face against his chest at the sudden light but didn’t wake.

“So you found them.’ Spy stated, a cigarette hanging from the edge of his mouth. “Curled up with your Sasha?’

“Yes.’

“Mm, I thought as much. You might want to hurry, Scout is due to run through here any moment looking for them.’

     Sighing, Heavy nodded and carried the sleeping assassin to his room and kicked the door shut. They refused to let go, so he sat down and awkwardly scooted back on his bed, laying down with them half sprawled across him. It wasn’t until after he was somewhat comfortable that he thought of the blanket he was laying on. His room was always cold, he liked it that way. And Assassin was from a cold state, and didn’t seem to mind at all as they shifted until their face was tucked against his neck.

“You are going to get cold, toksichnyy tsvetok.’ In response they cuddled closer.

     That was all he was going to get, Assassin mumbling nonsense in their sleep. Letting out an exasperated noise, Heavy rolled with an arm wrapped around them, and half laid across them instead, fighting a smile as they let out a soft contented noise. He would worry about the blanket later, it was good they were finally getting sleep.

[roraewrites]

New Beginnings ii

Rating: T A Day’s Work "now it's back to the way it started; strangers."

- previous chapter -

"Sakura? Earth to Sakura!" Ino called, her sky blue eyes peering over the counter as Sakura stared into the glass case, focused on all the different colors of flowers.

She had been lost in thought again, her body completely numb until Ino's shrill calls pulled her from her trance. She could see her reflection in the glass of the case, how her pupils had grown in size, her emerald irises glazed over while her lips were parted slightly. Even her hair seemed a little off, the way her headband had slid to the side, the ruby fabric matching the color of her tank top.

"Oh, yeah," she spoke softly before rounding to face Ino. "What was that?"

Ino simply rolled her eyes, her feet kicked up on the counter as she finished braiding the stems from the flowers she had picked on their outing. They were nothing but weeds, but the blonde claimed that their stems were perfectly flexible and easy to twist into cute designs. Sakura only giggled, watching Ino push her way through the tall grass to obtain the bland colored weeds.

"I said, are you working today?"

Sakura's eyes widened. How had she forgotten? "Yes, shit!" She exclaimed before rushing towards the counter and grabbing her medical pouch. Ino scoffed before shaking her head, watching Sakura's frantically worried face scrunch up. "I'm so sorry! I'll see you tomorrow, or even tonight. I gotta go, Lady Tsunade is going to kill me."

With that, Sakura was leaving the heavenly scented shop and pushing down the dirt roads. The village was bustling with people, senseis6 with their students and even the elderly had wandered from the confines of their home, shopping at the stalls. Sakura's heart raced before taking to the roof tops; had she seriously forgotten that today of all days was going to be important? She'd thought about it all night, yet here she was, running late.

The Fifth Hokage had asked the young medic to meet her in the Hokage's Office that day, and once Sakura approached the wooden doors, she could already hear Tsunade's voice from within- "enter!"

Sakura inhaled deeply before releasing a quick exhale, her hands shaking as she shoved the heavy doors open with ease. Tsunade sat at her desk, a cup of tea in her hand while she read over the paperwork in front of her. Although Sakura had been late by four minutes, she still felt guilty; Tsunade merely kept reading the paperwork, ignoring Sakura as a whole until the young woman stopped in front of the oak desk.

"My lady," she spoke softly, her breathing had still been fast, but she kept herself composed.

"Ah, I see you've made it," Tsunade's voice had an edge to it.

Sakura cringed slightly, knowing just how prim and proper her mentor was when it came to training. She also knew that her punishment wouldn't be light, and that the older blonde would put her up to some sort of brain draining task; or rather, something that'd put her on her ass the second she was done training physically.

"Did you finish that book I asked you to look over?" The woman asked as her honey eyes scanned Sakura.

"I did!" Sakura cooed, flashing her a pearly white smile. "It's," - sitting behind the counter at the Yamanaka's Flower Shop - "at my house, sitting on my desk." She hated lying, but Tsunade would have her head if she had learned that Sakura left a well aged medical textbook sitting at a shop.

"Good, make sure you bring it back tomorrow. Anyway, I have something important for you today, as you know."

That single sentence sent chills through Sakura's body, her lips pulling into an ear to ear grin as she held her hands behind her back. Tsunade grasped the porcelain cup, taking another sip before setting it down and continuing their conversation.

"As you know, the Anbu squad that I had sent earlier in the month returned this morning, one member of that group being Itachi Uchiha of the Uchiha clan," Tsunade smirked slightly, her golden eyes hardening over.

The look sent another round of chills through Sakura's body, except this time, she couldn't help but notice that stern and hard look in her mentor's eyes. She couldn't tell if it was a good or bad thing, but Sakura shook her head lightly before Tsunade continued. Hearing that Itachi had been one of the members on the mission was something she stored in the back of her mind, curious to know just why she was telling her that.

"He refused to report to the hospital after debriefing his mission. He had filled out his report, and returned home for the remainder of the day. As you know, the Uchiha clan houses proud people, but they're not suitable in the medical department. Your training today won't involve reading numerous pages from a textbook or filling out notes on any vaccines, or doing short rounds at the hospital. You'll be making a trip to their humble abode," she flashed a smile, her teeth glistening.

As excitement began to course through Sakura's body, it was accompanied by anxiety. It had been years since she'd heard the Uchiha sir name. She would see the police squads patrol the village, but it wasn't like her to confront them and strike up conversations; after all, she was a busy kunoichi, tasked with medical training and missions every so often. Still, the thought of going to the Uchiha compound and visiting Itachi, covering his wounds and attending their family's house made her fingers shake.

Tsunade apparently caught on to her nervous digits, her smirk disappearing and a thin, well plucked eyebrow raised. "What?"

"What? Nothing, I'm ready whenever," Sakura shook her head, before hiding her hands behind her back.

"Get your supplies and return back to me before going home tonight. I'll need to know the details of all injuries he acquired," Tsunade ordered. "Dismissed."

"Yes, my lady."

Sakura turned on her heel, reaching for the doors and exiting upon demand. She closed the doors behind her, the gush of an exhilarating wind smacking her in the face, sending a shock down her spine as she finally registered exactly where she'd be heading.

Thoughts of dark, midnight eyes passed through her memories accompanied by artfully spiked hair, and a face that held a firm scowl on it constantly. It'd been years since she'd seen the Uchiha, and now that she'd been assigned a day of examining his brother, her heart was immediately descending towards her stomach. As much as Sakura's skin broke out in goosebumps, she complied to Tsunade's orders and began towards the hospital to stock up on her supplies; after all, she'd need to be properly equip, especially in the home of one of the most well known clans of their village.

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The surrounding air was filled with the scent of cherry blossoms, due to the Hanami season that had come and passed, but the petals still rained down from their branches, all while Konoha delightfully held on to the beautiful trees. Rays of light blanketed her exposed skin, fighting back the goose bumps that continued to threaten her body, but Sakura shook off the thoughts the second she walked through the gates.

While the Uchiha clan was still apart of the Leaf, they had a separate part of the village to themselves. Sakura, with eyes scanning the busy streets, stutter stepped through the main gate.

They're villagers just like you, she reminded herself.

They all possessed either a head that sprouted chocolate brown or raven black hair, each shining in a silk-like manner as the sun glistened off each strand of hair. The color of their eyes nearly matched one another perfectly; midnight black accompanied by silver flecks, and pupils that were almost nonexistent.

As Sakura people watched during her travels to Itachi's home, she couldn't help but notice all the different stalls and shops. This part of the village was completely foreign to her, almost like its own little world set apart from the rest of society. Everyone looked entirely happy, with smiles that stretched from ear to ear and directed at her. The longer she walked, the more comfortable she became in the section of town.

She walked by buildings, large but not as large as some of the ones in downtown Konoha, near the Hokage's Tower. The Uchiha crest was nearly imprinted on every building, set in stone and painted perfectly, until her eyes found one symbol she had seen nearly every day of her life: the Uchiha Police Force Insignia.

Her emerald eyes looked at the huge building, noting that the colors were very mute, yet entirely pleasing to the eye. Sakura's walk alongside it was short lived, yet she noticed all the different windows that inhabited the front, catching a glimpse of the inside and thoroughly pleased with how clean it was. Hell, even the short staircase leading up to the front doors were swept and kept clean.

Sakura shrugged before continuing her walk; she was nearly to the house of her patient now.

Their house was simple, a gate with a walkway that led right up to the front door. She was neither intimidated by the size nor how well it look, but by the unnerving feeling she began to feel within her stomach. As her hand reached for the gate, she felt the sudden shock of electricity strike the padding of her finger. She simply frowned before opening the metal gate, closing it behind her and walking her body to the door.

She was here now, standing in front of the door while her hand began to reach for the wooden frame. She tapped her knuckles against the wooden exterior before taking a step back and clasping her hands together. From the inside, she could hear the silent foot falls, when finally the door opened to reveal a gentle face accompanied by a heart warming smile; all the nerves from within her vanished, and had been replaced by the silent fluttering of butterflies.

"Good morning," Sakura spoke first, her heart thrumming against her chest. "My name is Sakura Haruno and by order of my mentor, the Fifth Hokage, Tsunade Senju, I've been sent to examine Itachi Uchiha." She felt almost out of breath from that single, long winded sentence, but the woman only smiled deeper in response.

"We've been waiting for your arrival, come in," she responded with a soothing voice.

Sakura nodded before forcing her body to move. Her feet took her within the confines of the Uchiha's home, taking in just how lovely their home was. Compared to the outside, the inside was just as nice, if not nicer.

"You have a lovely home, Mrs. Uchiha-"

"Please, call me Mikoto."

"-er, Mikoto. Your home is lovely!" Sakura bowed, hiding the blush that began to spread across her cheeks.

The small laugh that sounded from the woman was reassuring, and with it, Sakura rose back to her standing position and offered a lopsided smile. You're entirely too awkward, she reminded herself, but began to remove her sandals and placed them to the side like the rest of the organized shoes.

"Itachi is this way. He just returned home only a few hours ago, so I'm unsure if he's still asleep or awake."

Sakura nodded before following Mikoto to the back porch and making their way to the room at the end. Their back yard and garden was absolutely stunning; the trees trimmed properly and blooming with different fruits, while the garden held different types of lovely flowers. Sakura sneered to herself, noticing that Mikoto's garden would put Ino's garden to shame.

"Right here," the words cut through her thoughts, and as Sakura peered around the doorframe, she could see the body of the elder brother lying absolutely motionless; despite the small rise and fall of his chest. "Just head on in. If you need anything, I'll be right down the hall."

Mikoto ushered Sakura in, and while the pinkette began to walk through the doorway, she noticed the slight stir in Itachi's body. While the natural light came in through the windows, his room was slightly dark; although the light posts hadn't been lit either.

"Feel free to light those if you need more light," the older woman offered with a smile, her voice soft.

Sakura nodded before setting her medical pouch down on the nightstand located next to the bedside. She noted the wooden seat that was positioned near the bed as well, convinced that Mikoto had probably spent the morning sitting near her son while he slept.

The room was quiet as she began to take a seat. The wood adjusted beneath her, letting out a slight creak as she moved her weight and began to dig through her pouch. She'd figured she'd require more light later in the day, but for the now, the sun coming in through the window was more than enough.

Sakura began to wander in her thoughts, considering just how long she should wait before beginning her examination on the young adult in front of her, but as her eyes finally flashed from the contents in her bag, she noticed the same familiar, yet haunting eyes set on her.

His face was calm, thick eyelashes blanketing his soot black eyes as Itachi watched her jump slightly. Sakura felt her blood rush in her body, causing her toes to tingle as she continued to look at him.

"I'm so sorry if I woke you," Sakura spoke first, her words rushed as she leaned back in her chair. Itachi didn't respond, his eyes remained on her as though he were sleeping with his eyes opened. It was when he moved his head that Sakura exhaled lowly, the nerves in her body abandoning her as she calmed down.

"I've been awake since you arrived," his voice was low and smooth; almost a dark tone tinting his voice, but Sakura melted at the sound of it. Not only were his eyes dark, but his hair was an off black color, like a raven's feather in the rays of light - a charcoal gray almost. Itachi was a beautiful human being, much like his brother and his mother. It just runs in the family, Sakura mentioned to herself.

"I'm glad you're awake. I've been sent by Tsunade."

"I'm aware. She was firm with her choice of sending someone to check on me. It was only a matter of time," he retorted with his deep voice.

Sakura felt that deep blush begin in the roots of her hair, slowly making its way to the highest points of her cheeks, even lighting up her ears. She felt exposed, but she continued their conversation, before placing the back of her hand against the mattress, her palm face up.

"May I check your pulse, please?"

Itachi didn't response, only the quiet ruffles of the sheets sounded through Sakura's ears before he placed his wrist gently within the palm of her hand. She noticed how chilling his skin was, how his skin nearly froze her hand to the bones of her fingers, but as she readjusted it in her palm, she now had her fingers pressed firmly against his pulsating vein.

She began to count the pulse rate within her mind, noting just how fast his pulse actually was, and before she bit down on her lip, her brow furrowed. Itachi was looking at her with an emotionless face, his dusty eyes watching her as she worked. Sakura released his wrist gently before leaning forward, her viridian eyes meeting his blank expression. The back of her hand pressed against the width of his forehead, accumulating just how hot his skin felt beneath her hand, and as Sakura pulled her hand away, her frown deepened.

"You have a fever,"she noted.

"I'm sure I do."

"Mhm," Sakura returned. She grasped her small flashlight from her pouch before returning back to Itachi. "Do you mind?" She offered with a gentle smile, in which he shook his head, allowing her to carry on with her examination.

Sakura simply clicked the mini flashlight on before bringing it near Itachi's eye. She checked the right, her own set of eyes focused on the many different veins that could be seen in the whites of his eyes; observing all the different passage ways. "Aaaand look to the right," and he did, and Sakura moved the light around. She could see the few silver flecks in his dark eyes, and along with it, the pupil that nearly blended perfectly with the shade of his iris. She repeated the steps on his left eye, looking for any clues that Itachi may have been hiding, and as she pulled the light away, she clicked it off.

She knew that Itachi was dehydrated, but there was also something else that was going on with him. She couldn't exactly pinpoint what disease he would be undergoing, but his eyes gave that small clue away. Sakura frowned once more before leaning back in her chair.

"You're dehydrated," she stated, still pondering what could be going on inside of Itachi's body and organs.

He didn't speak, only nod as he pulled the comforter up his body and turned his head away from her. "I've got something else going on, too?" His question was muffled, as his head was now turned to the opposite side of the room.

Sakura's leg came to rest atop her knee, her hand cupping her chin as she ran through all the possibilities in her mind. She could do an internal organ scan of his body, or she could give it another day. She was here for an examination, and while she had found that he was substantially dehydrated, she could probably find what else was going on within him. She inhaled deeply before pushing up from the chair she had been seated in.

"I'm going to do an internal scan," she informed him before weaving the signs that had become engraved in her mind. In an instant, her hands were now glowing, the green light illuminating the shadows of the room, and while the low hum was calming, Sakura was determined to find what was wrong with Itachi.

"Excellent chakra control," Itachi complimented.

Sakura flashed a simple smile, her concentration forming in her hands while she exerted the right amount of chakra. She could feel her own chakra surging through Itachi's, touching his own while she made a complete sweep through his body. Nothing seemed out of sort, but she couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was still wrong.

"Could you close your eyes?" She asked quietly, her mind still solely concentrated on the way her chakra flowed freely through his body. The Uchiha did as instructed, and while Sakura hovered her hands closely over his eyes, it was there that everything had gone amiss.

Sakura stopped her flow of chakra, retracted her hands and took a seat once more. Itachi's eyes opened and glanced her way, his face still calm and composed as Sakura grasped her flashlight once more and clicked it on. "Have you been noticing any changes in your vision lately?" Sakura asked, her mind noting that the bloodline of the Uchiha wasn't to be taken lightly.

Thin, perfect eyebrows knitted together, his face finally showing some type of emotion. "No. Not that I've noticed."

Sakura nodded before standing from her seat and leaning closer towards his face. She was careful with the way she pulled his eyelid up, asking him to look down as her eyes scanned for anything unusual; nothing showed up.

She felt defeated, yet checked the other eye to ensure that she hadn't missed something. With the click of the light, she placed it back in her pouch and took a seat. Hours had passed now, noticing just how dim it had grown outside, the morning light no longer shining in like it had been.

"I'm going to get you some water. You need to drink it, all right? Dehydration isn't to be taken lightly," she reprimanded him, looking him firmly in the eye with her arms crossed over her chest. Sakura placed her medical pouch around her waist once more before turning on her heel and heading towards the door.

Mikoto was right where she said she'd be, and as Sakura made her way towards the older woman, she received a smile. "How is he?"

"He's dehydrated," Sakura frowned, while she bit her lower lip. "I'll need to return tomorrow morning, but in the meantime, I want to make sure that there's nothing else going on with him. Do you mind if I stay awhile longer?"

"Of course not. Take as long as you need. Fugaku is out of town, and Sasuke is currently at work. If you're still around, you're more than welcome to stay for dinner."

Sakura inhaled sharply before smiling kindly. Dinner with the Uchihas? "I don't want to be a bother."

"Oh, sweetie!" Mikoto laughed slightly. "Itachi will be in bed for awhile, won't he? I'm sure dinner will be lonely, so I wouldn't mind the company. And if you need to keep an eye on Itachi, then please, stay."

She smiled at the mother of her patient, clearly starstruck by the kindness that this woman possessed.

"Okay, sure. I'd love that," Sakura replied with a smile. "Also, the reason I actually came out here... Could I grab a glass of water for Itachi?"

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The rest of Sakura's day had been easy-going. She'd spent time sitting with Mikoto in the yard, asking her various questions on how she'd tended to her garden, while keeping a perfect, pristine home for her family. The woman was obviously no push over, Sakura had come to learn. She was a Jonin, one of the stronger people acknowledged in the clan, and also a damn good cook.

The night sky loomed over them, the comforting song of crickets filling the atmosphere as Sakura began to stand from the porch. "I'm going to check on him one more time before departing for the night."

It was apparent that Itachi had been exhausted from his mission, but Sakura wouldn't put that hand in hand with something else going horribly wrong. The glass she had placed on the nightstand was entirely empty, leaving a small ring of condensation against the coaster as she picked it up. Itachi's skin no longer looked pale, and the rings around his eyes had lightened in color since she'd arrived earlier that day. With a brief smile, Sakura exited his room and made her way down the porch.

"I'll take that," Mikoto offered a hand before taking the cup from Sakura.

"Thank you," she beamed, the woman's dark eyes shimmering with hope and admiration. "I'll be back early in the morning to check up on him once more. In the meantime, he needs to rest and get plenty of water."

The woman smiled, and followed Sakura as she made her way towards the door. Her sandals went on without any troubles, and with her medical pouch, Sakura departed from the house

"Will you make it home okay?" Mikoto asked as Sakura stepped out the door. The woman was definitely a mother, and a good one at that.

Sakura smiled before turning around, "yes. Thank you for everything." And with that, she skipped down the remaining stairs and towards the gate. Sakura's pace was rather slow, her mind exhausted from an entire day of tending to Itachi's exam and while she noted just how much longer she had to go, she sighed.

The night sky was filled with millions of stars, the pale crescent moon curving beautifully around a handful of stars. Even the night air was brilliant, crisp smelling and fresh as Sakura made her way down the street. The slightest bit of sound caught her attention as she kept on walking, and from the dimly lit road, she made out another body walking her way.

The shape was tall, hair ruffled in a way that she'd only seen once in her life, and when they had grown close enough, she felt her heart climb to her throat and her eyes widen.

Sasuke.

It had been years since she'd seen him, yet he still had that same effect on her that he'd always had. They brushed by one another, like complete strangers, but the magnetic pull that emanated from him didn't go unnoticed. Sakura kept her widened eyes on the ground in front of her, watching each of her steps carefully until they were no longer near each other.

She could hear the excited call from Mikoto as she rounded the corner.

"Sasuke! Hello, dear." It brought a smile to her face, her body growing warm and she thought about how welcoming the woman had been with her that day.

The walk felt like it would last forever, and with a slight pulse of chakra to her feet, Sakura took off from this section of the village and was well on her way towards the Hokage Tower. She just wanted to fill Tsunade in on her day, inform her of her discoveries, go home, and rest. It wasn't so much of a long day for the medic, but she felt like her mind had been picked clean while she constantly thought of what was going on in Itachi's body.

She shook her head, swearing that she'd save that bit for tomorrow. For now, she was running up the stairs and soon planted in front of the doors to Tsunade's office. Sakura knocked like usual, awaiting the thunderous roar from the blonde, but to no avail. She frowned, her body growing with heat as she knocked once more. Again, nothing sounded from the other side and as Sakura began to push on the doors, she came to find out that they were locked.

"Just great," Sakura exhaled before walking the other way.

The hallway was dimly lit, while the village of Konoha had multiple lights beaming through each street. The stalls and shops from owners were still bustling, and as much as Sakura wanted to walk through each street, seeing what each store had to offer, she began to break out in yet another sprint. Home wasn't too far from the tower, and within a matter of minutes, she was walking through the front door and kicking her shoes from her feet.

"I'm home!" She hollered down the hall way, making her way towards her room.

"Hi, honey!" Her own mother called, the familiar voice filling her heart with warmth. It was nice to spend the day with Mikoto, enjoying the motherly love that she had for her boys, but it was also nice to return home to her own mother. "How was your day?"

"It was long. I'm tired. I want to sleep," Sakura whined as she leaned against the entry way to her room. Mebuki was still seated in her chair as she called back to Sakura.

"Well get some rest, dear. I'll see you in the morning."

"I love you," Sakura spoke softly with her head now against the wooden frame.

"And I love you."

She smiled before heading towards her bed. The comforting mattress looked all the more inviting as she removed her clothes and grabbed a large shirt from her closet. It fit loosely against her skin as she crawled into the confines of her bed. A shower sounded lovely, but her mind was already far from her conscious state, and as her pink hair fell loosely over her pillow, her head sinking into the feathery cushion, she was transcending into a dream filled world.

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Her walk through the gates of the Uchiha clan wasn't as scary as it had been yesterday. The skies had fluffy, off-white clouds running through them, while the sun was just poking over the mountain tops. Sakura had left earlier that morning, due to going to bed at a reasonable hour, and while she should've stopped to see Tsunade, she was eager to dive into her work today.

Through the gate she went, closing the metallic latch quietly behind her. Her steps were quiet as well, reaching for the door with her fist, Sakura was just about to knock until the door swung open. Face to face, she was looking into a pair of bewildered eyes; dark like spilled oil. She could feel the air in her lungs evacuate her body, leaving her numb and nervous as she stood in front of Sasuke.

"Uh, hello?" She asked after a minute of silence.

Sasuke didn't respond, he still looked like he was experiencing shock and the longer he looked at her, the more intense his gaze grew. He looked absolutely stunning, all grown up and taller than she'd expected. His face was finely chiseled, body toned and muscular from underneath his uniform, and oh, his uniform - how fine he looked dressed up in the symbolic outfit of the Police Force.

Sakura snapped out of her thoughts, "is Mikoto Uchiha in?"

"Yes," he answered before pausing for a slight second. "I take it you're the medic?"

His dark lashes blinked over his eyes, his face regaining composure as he stood perfectly still in front of her. "Yep, that's me."

The atmosphere between them grew silent once more, leaving Sakura to slowly focus on the way Sasuke's eyes looked into her own, like he was trying to think of something to say. That antagonizing pull resurfaced once more, causing Sakura to lean forward slightly, like her center of gravity had been knocked off balance, and just as Sakura felt her chest start to well up with a familiar feeling, Sasuke pushed passed her.

"Well, I've got to go."

With that, Sakura was left standing beside an open door, her eyes watching as Sasuke jumped the gate and made his way towards work. His hair bounced with each stride, kicking up dust in his wake and while Sakura felt stupid just standing here, she finally turned her attention back towards the door.

"Uhh, Mikoto?" She called in, accompanying her call with a few knocks on the open door.

Within a matter of seconds, Mikoto was present, her face in shock as she looked at Sakura. "Did that boy of mine leave the door open?"

"Yes...?" Sakura asked out of confusion. The look of an exasperated sigh flashed through the woman's dark eyes before she beckoned for Sakura to come in.

"Itachi is awake. I'm making some breakfast, so you're more than welcome to start your work."

Sakura removed her shoes, offered her thanks and began her walk down the porch. It was about to be yet, another long day.

- next chapter -