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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

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Into The Woods

Pairing: werewolf!Dream / Clay x human!gn!reader

Summary: [Werewolf!AU] It’s love at first sight when you move into a quaint, little house by the forest’s edge, but you soon find that there’s more waiting for you in the woods than you originally thought.

Word Count: 10k

A/N: my third commissioned story! this work has been altered so everyone can read it, but the plot remains the same. this story was a blast to write, and i hope you all enjoy it! <3

With a step back and a firm tug, the back door slammed shut with a satisfying click. You grinned as you turned the key in the lock. Slipping the silver keyring into your pocket, you turned on your heel, your gaze sweeping over the vast open forest that stretched out before you. Viridian green leaves loomed over the earth, standing in stark contrast to the clear, cerulean blue sky that stretched across the horizon overhead. On the ground below, the occasional wildflower sprouted up and out of the earth, their soft petals shyly unfurling and fluttering in the warm summer breeze.

For such a lovely view, you never would have guessed that you would be able to afford a place like this for so cheap.

Then again, Elmwood Ridge wasn’t a particularly notable town. Best known for its countless acres of elm forests and the large lake that laid at its centre, the town had become something of a nature reserve unto itself, despite being anything but. It was a quiet, quaint region, somewhere you had always distantly dreamed of visiting, if only because of its peaceful atmosphere. You never thought that you would end up living there, though.

It had been a split second decision made on impulse, and looking back, maybe it wasn’t the smartest move you’d ever made, but you didn’t regret one bit. Your new house was two stories tall and built with lovely stone bricks that looked like they came right out of a fairytale. The triangular sloping roof hung just over the sides of the house to provide some shelter from the rain, and the second floor had two balconies—one in the front and the back. Needless to say, you were sold in a heartbeat. Not only was the house pretty, but so was the price tag. You vaguely remembered hearing something about complaints of noisy wolves in the forest, but you weren't deterred. A little noise never killed anyone, and you were more than happy to share your space with nature.

Hopping down the back steps, you gently tread across the soft grass, careful not to step on any flowers as you walked. After moving in two days ago, you had planned to take the day off to hike and learn all that you could about your new backyard. You would head into town tomorrow and look for a job then—right now, all you wanted to do was explore and appreciate your new home.

Gazing up at the rustling elm leaves one last time, you smiled to yourself before stepping out of your lawn and into the forest.

In the distance, a faint howl rang out across the trees.

Between stretches of chestnut wood, a flash of tawny brown and golden fur dashed across the earth, powerful paws pushing off the ground with each leap. Landing atop a fallen log, the wolf raised his head, his muzzle raised toward the sky as he inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring.

Fresh. Clean. Warm. The faintest scent of flowers.

He exhaled, emerald eyes blinking as he scanned the open forest around him.

Carrying out routine morning patrols around the pack’s territory was one of the alpha’s many duties, but Clay still wasn’t quite used to it.

Stepping down from the log, he let his tongue hang out of his mouth, his ears flicking as he took in every sound. Somewhere above him, a bird flapped its wings, chirping as it took flight. Along the breeze, he could pick up the distant scent of deer coming from the south. His eyes flashed at the smell. He would have to report that to the pack when he returned—it had been a few days since they last had a large hunt. Sniffing one last time, he began weaving between the looming trunks, his entire body rapt with focus.

He had only been appointed as alpha a little less than a month ago, and although he had technically been taught the ropes, it took more than just a few lessons for a wolf to truly become alpha. He could still remember how the former alpha had pressed his nose to his side, nudging him onto the rock peak in front of his pack with an aging howl. He had been getting older, and everyone knew it—it was only a matter of time until a new leader was selected, but Clay never would have dreamt he would be the one who was chosen.

Only a few people were as surprised as he was, though. He was one of the larger wolves in the pack, and while he wasn’t the tallest in his human form—that title belonged to the young, curious Ranboo—he was by far the strongest, having led more than his fair share of hunts before. It was only natural that he ended up in his position, and he was welcomed into the upper ranks with open arms.

A glimmer of warmth washed over him at the memory, and he would have smiled if he wasn’t shifted. He had never felt such pride before, feeling everyone’s excited gazes on him as he howled up at the gleaming, full moon. The shouts that filled the starry night sky made his heart swell in his chest, and he just knew he was going to do his best to make everyone proud. He would protect them to the ends of the earth, if he had to.

Kicking away a stray branch, his eyes quickly flicked over his surroundings. He recognized this area, and he knew that he had almost completed a full circle around the pack’s perimeter, by now. There was only a tiny stretch left before he would return to the camp and fill everyone in. Raising his head, he let his jaw fall open to catch any aromas that travelled along the breeze.

All of a sudden, a new scent wafted over his nose, an unsettling sense of unfamiliarity striking deep within his core.

There was something in the woods—something that did not belong here.

In an instant, Clay’s lips were pulled back in a snark, his sharp canines bared as he sank his paws into the soil below. His claws latched onto the dirt, his grip firm and unwavering as he pressed himself closer to the ground, careful not to let his scent travel in the air.

They weren’t common, but every now and then, hunters would venture into the woods with their heads held high and guns drawn. Most of them came hunting for game, shooting down the occasional deer or elk to bring back to their own families. Clay didn’t have a problem with those hunters, but as for the ones who came in search of wolves?

Clay wasn’t sure he could be so lenient with those ones.

Prowling forward, he kept his haunches low, his tail brushing over the shrubbery as he took step after step toward the strange, new scent. Ever so slowly, he crept closer, his pupils dilated in focus. Suddenly, he stopped, freezing in place.

He could hear footsteps.

Inhaling deeply, he let his eyelids fall shut.

One, two, three...

His eyes shot wide open, and he whipped his head up, only to go stock still as a silhouette came into view.

It was a person, a regular person.

He blinked as he lifted his head, his expression growing neutral as he watched you crouch down to examine a small pile of stones stacked beside a tree, one that he vaguely remembered being made by Tommy and Tubbo when they went exploring a few weeks ago. There was no gun strapped to your body, no pack hanging off your hips as you rose back up to your feet. You didn’t seem to be a threat at all, and from the back, he couldn’t tell if you were even carrying a weapon.

Just then, you turned to the side, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat.

The world suddenly fell away, his surroundings melting into nothing more than a hazy blur as his eyes locked onto your face. His heart came to a screeching halt in his chest.

You were beautiful.

The light framing your lovely face made your cheeks seem all the more lively as you rose. He watched as you brushed your fingers delicately over the bark of a tree, your brilliant eyes meticulously tracing over the curve of every leaf as you walked past. Your feet never lingered in one place for long, constantly moving and skittering across the forest floor like a rippling stream. It was almost as though your every movement cast streaks of dappled sunlight everywhere you stepped, the marvelling spark flickering in your gaze making his head spin with wild abandon.

Clay felt something warm and tight curl against his insides, unmistakably soft and affectionate. It was almost hard to breathe with the way his lungs squeezed and shook behind his ribs. He hadn’t felt this feeling before, but he had heard enough stories to know exactly what it was.

His mate—you were his mate.

There wasn’t any one way to truly describe what a mating bond was, but the most commonly accepted one was that it was a connection that tied people’s souls together, uniting them in perfect harmony. Every werewolf had a mate, and most of the time, they would find their mate in another one of their kind. But right now, as Clay stood in the forest, his gaze glued to the most beautiful human he had ever laid eyes on, he knew that he wasn’t going to find his mate in some other shifter like everyone else had said he would.

Having a human for a mate was rare at best, and unheard of at worst. After all, not every human had a mate, and he had heard stories of shifters being rejected by their human mates. Some of the elders in the camp still refused to believe that having a human mate was even possible, but nearly all of the younger shifters had accepted it—embraced it, even. But never in his pack, at least, had someone learned that their mate was a human.

It looked like he was going to be the first.

For a few long moments, he simply stood there, watching you silently with wide eyes as you slowly made your way deeper down the path. A part of him wanted to chase after you, yearned to walk by your side for as long as his legs would let him. But as soon as he raised his paw, he quickly lowered it again, a pang of guilt shooting through him.

He couldn’t go up to you—not like this, and most certainly not now. He didn’t have nearly enough experience under his belt as an alpha yet, and bringing you to his world could just make everything even worse if he wasn’t careful about it. He swallowed, taking a single step back as you slowly slipped out of view, disappearing into the trees and carrying your lovely scent away with you.

Anxiety gnawed at the inside of his gut, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you would even return. Surely you must live around here to be hiking in these woods—maybe you would hike here again, if not even more often.

He paused, then nodded to himself before whipping around, his tail swishing behind him as he clenched his jaw.

Tomorrow. He would come back tomorrow.

A few feet deeper within the trees, the sound of a stick snapping shattered the forest’s silence.

Along the lightly-treaded path, you whirled, your head pointing toward the sharp sound. Pausing, you raised your head, your gaze darting to the forest canopy above. The sun peaked down at you between swaths of vibrant green, and you squinted, raising a hand to shield your eyes. The trees remained quiet around you, only whispering with the soft rustles of their leaves.

A moment passed in silence. A robin warbled.

You let out a long exhale and shook your head. Turning once more, you stepped over a small crack in the ground, humming as you walked further into the woods.

It was probably nothing.

Sapnap grunted as he dropped the pile of sticks onto the ground, the wood clattering at his feet in a heap. He scowled at the sight, resisting the urge to kick the pile down. He couldn’t believe Wilbur had actually tricked him into doing something as simple as collecting firewood. It wasn’t difficult or anything, but he was the beta, for crying out loud! He could have at least passed the buck to someone like Tommy, that brat.

“Sapnap.”

Sapnap blinked at the familiar voice, turning to find himself standing face to face with Clay. His dirty blond hair was disheveled atop his head, and his cheeks were flushed with heat. A smile tugged on his lips at the sight. “Oh, hey, Clay. Welcome back.” He squinted at the way Clay’s chest heaved, his breaths coming out shaky and uneven. “Um, you good, there? Did you run back here or somethi—”

“It happened,” Clay blurted.

Sapnap blinked, raising a single brow at him. “What happened?”

Clay swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I met my mate.”

Sapnap paused. “Oh. Oh.” A wide grin stretched across his face, and he reached over to clap a hand to Clay’s back. “That’s awesome, man! I’m guessing it happened on your patro—”

“My mate’s human,” Clay said suddenly.

Sapnap paused again. “Oh. Oh.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Clay’s shoulders went slack at his side as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his scalp. “I, um,” he said, his words coming out in a hazy rush. “I don’t think I’m ready to—” He stopped, feeling Sapnap’s patient gaze rest on him, then opened his mouth, again. “I can’t just reveal our world so soon. I’ve only been alpha for what?” He gestured vaguely. “A month? I’m not experienced enough, yet.” He slumped forward, a hollow, wistful look settling onto his features. “It would be too much for both of us.”

Sapnap nodded thoughtfully, understanding flooding his face. “It’s okay, Clay. Take your time.” He fell silent for a brief moment, then quietly added, “Did you reveal yourself or anything?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I was too surprised to even move.”

Sapnap’s lips quirked up into a tiny smile. “Then there’s no rush,” he said. “You’re allowed to build up your confidence first, dude. Your confidence as a wolf. As an alpha.” His eyes flashed with soft reassurance. “As a mate.”

Clay raised his head, blinking as Sapnap gently nudged his shoulder with his. “You can do this. Plus,” he added, his tone growing more lighthearted, “I’m your beta. You know I’ve got your back.”

The chuckle that escaped Clay’s lips was low and short, but he could already feel the tension seep out his shoulders like a leaking dam. “Thanks, Sap.”

Taking a step back, Sapnap hummed, offering him a lopsided smile. “Anytime.”

Clay turned on his heel, jerking his head toward the centre of the camp. “Well, I need to organize today’s hunt, but I’ll catch you later. I trust you’ll keep things under control while I’m gone.”

He nodded. “Of course—you know me.” With a short wave and a small grin, Clay began walking off in the opposite direction. “Oh, also,” Sapnap suddenly shouted after him, “don’t forget to grab something to eat before you go hunting today, yeah? I know you missed breakfast.”

Clay didn’t look behind him as he shot a thumbs up at Sapnap from behind his back, but Sapnap could already picture the way he would roll his eyes with a smile. Shaking his head, he turned back to the firewood scattered around his feet, a new glower creeping onto his face.

He was so getting back at Wilbur for this.

Every morning after, Clay dutifully woke up early and strolled deep into the woods, shifted into his wolf form as he scented the air and patrolled the area just as any good alpha would. But time and time again, that one sweet scent never seemed to return, almost as though it had vanished from the forest entirely. At times, he thought he caught the faintest whiff of it, but some further exploration would only reveal a small patch of flowers, never you.

Needless to say, his disappointment was palpable.

It had been a full week now, and Clay was running out of hope. Maybe he was wrong—maybe you wouldn’t ever come back. His heart ached at the thought.

He had been too hasty, wasn’t he?

Hanging his head, he whimpered to himself in the quiet forest, sniffing absentmindedly as he ambled about almost aimlessly. He still had a duty to fulfill, he knew, but he couldn’t ignore the empty feeling burrowing deeper and deeper into his chest.

But right then, just as he paced another few feet forward, he heard it.

A melody.

It was soft, the singing travelling down from the west in a distant murmur, or perhaps a hum. If he hadn’t been paying attention, he surely would have missed it. He didn’t know this song, didn’t recognize it one bit, but he could already tell that it was sweeter than any thrush’s song or any loon’s call. He felt his heart flip in his chest, and just like that, he knew.

In a flash, he was racing across the earth, his paws flying out beneath him in a blur as he ducked under branches and darted past deer, missing the way they startled at his sudden approach. The song was louder now, and he could smell it—smell you.

It was only a few seconds later that he came to a stop, his paws digging into the ground as his heart leapt into his throat.

Soft hair. Bright eyes. A dazzling grin.

You were back.

You had headphones on this time, he realized, and you were humming aloud to yourself, your feet most likely moving in time to the beat of whatever song you were listening to. You were a little off-key and occasionally stumbled over the refrain as it came around, but he found himself entranced nonetheless. Even when you were doing something as simple as humming, you were stunning.

Why come back today of all days? he distantly wondered to himself. What made today so different from any other day?

He wracked his mind as he felt the sun shine down on him gently, warming his back as he crouched down a little. He rarely kept track of the days—that was Sapnap’s job—but he knew that there hadn’t been any special events or holidays going on in the human world. Pressing his ears flat against his head, he scratched his paw at the ground in confusion. Just what made today so special?

That was when the realization slammed into him.

It had been a week since he last saw you.

Once a week—you must hike here once a week.

If he could smile in this form, he already knew that he would have the biggest, stupidest grin plastered to his face. He wanted to leap for joy and howl like there was no tomorrow, but he didn’t want to alert you of his presence just yet. Again, it had only been a week, and he was still far from being a worthy mate for you.

Once a week, he thought once more, his eyes glued to you as you skipped further down the trail and out of his sight. I can wait another week.

The wind sang in his ears as a gentle breeze brushed over his tawny fur, the forest murmuring a silent lullaby into his ear as he whirled back around. As much as he wanted to stay with you forever, he had a patrol to finish and a pack to defend. He let his eyelids flutter shut for the briefest of moments, your face engraved into the rosy crevices of his heart as your humming filled his ears once more.

He couldn’t wait to see you, again.

One week later, you grumbled to yourself as you stomped through the woods, complaining about your new job under your breath. Clay wished he could comfort you, but stayed put with his claws buried in the dirt.

Two weeks later, you watched with wide eyes as a doe and her fawn drank from a nearby stream. He made sure not to hunt those two down in particular later that week.

Three weeks later, you were snapping photo after photo with the camera hanging around your neck, your eyes absolutely brimming with curiosity. He thought you were prettier than any view the forest had to offer.

As one week stumbled into the next, the months began to pass in a blur. Summer collapsed into autumn as the leaves turned gorgeous shades of crimson red and golden orange before tumbling from the sky. Shortly after that, the forest was covered in a blanket of ivory white snow, leaving the branches bare and awaiting the return of spring. The snow soon melted into rain, and puddles littered the forest floor while flowers began to bud and bloom once more. In almost a whirlwind of seasons and waiting, summer rolled around once more, marking the first anniversary of your arrival in Elmwood Ridge.

With each passing season, Clay continued to watch you from afar with a tender gaze. Some days, he would listen to you hum as you trekked along while other times, he would only manage to catch the tiniest of glimpses of you between the trees. No matter how short the instance was, every second he got was well worth the wait, and Clay could feel his affection bloom like a new spring flower. As the trees grew larger, as did his confidence. Time was the best teacher the forest had to offer, and it didn’t take much longer for Clay to grow comfortable with his duty as the alpha of his pack. But despite his newfound strength, he still didn’t feel ready enough to approach you outright, to reveal himself to you as he was. Doubt swirled in his mind like a raging storm, eating away at him like a gnat digging through mud.

He was beginning to fear he may never be ready.

Lifting his head, he sniffed the air, the now familiar scent of his mate drifting across the new summer breeze. You were taking a new path today, he noted in an instant. Perhaps you were doing some exploring.

Padding through the trees, leaves crunched beneath his feet as he leapt over logs and puddles, following after your scent as it grew stronger and stronger. It only took a few moments for him to find you standing atop an elevated rock face, your head lifted as you gazed up at the light scattered between the tree leaves. Your face almost seemed to be glowing in the pale, morning sunshine, your eyes looking like two dewdrops as they curved into tiny crescents. Clay’s heart rattled in his chest, and he resisted the urge to howl to the heavens above.

You were lovely, his mate. If only he could work up the courage to properly tell you.

Basking in the sunlight, he watched as you took a few steps forward closer to the cliff’s edge, your eyes still trained on the sky above. It wasn’t a terribly deep fall, he knew, but the fall was most certainly far enough to hurt someone if they fell at the wrong angle. He narrowed his eyes as you stopped dangerously close to the edge, halting just a few inches from the drop. Surely the stone was strong enough to support your weight, even as old as it was, right?

Apparently not.

Clay saw the cliff crumble before you did.

Terror shot through his body like a bullet as he watched the rock face collapse under your shoes, your feet tumbling out beneath you. Your hands desperately reached for the cliff face, but he could tell from the way your scream cut through the forest’s silence like a sharpened blade that you weren't going to be able to grab it in time.

There was no time for him to think—his body moved first.

In one moment, he was standing with his mouth slack and his emerald eyes blown wide with horror. In the next, he was lunging across the rock face, his jaws wide open as he reached for the lower collar of your shirt. The moment he felt his nose brush against the back of your neck, he snapped his jaws shut, careful not to pierce your skin with his sharp canines as the cloth caught between his teeth. Your weight bounced beneath him once, and the gasp that escaped your lips made his head spin dizzily.

Close—you were so close, and your scent was intoxicating.

You turned your head ever so slightly, and he felt it the moment your eyes locked onto his. You were scared, he could tell, but as you took in the sight of the wolf holding onto you, you almost seemed to relax in his grip. Planting his paws firmly against the rocky earth, he tugged his jaw up and backwards, pulling you away from the cliff face and over even ground. Your hands scrambled to latch onto the cliff edge, helping to pull yourself up until finally, he let go of you, your now torn collar resting against the back of your neck.

Heaving a sigh of relief, you let yourself collapse against the rock face, lying on your back as you gasped for breath. Your chest felt tight like a wound-up spring, and adrenaline pumped through every vein in your body, yet you felt oddly calm. After a minute or two, you slowly pushed yourself forward on your arms until you were just barely slouching forward, looking over your shoulder. A few feet away from you, the wolf stood, his eyes trained intently on your face as you swallowed.

“Um,” you breathed, your eyes desperately scanning him up and down. “Hello?”

He didn’t say anything in return, simply shuffling further away from you. He was giving you space, you realized after a brief moment, and you blinked as you scrambled to sit completely upright. His fur was a soft, golden brown, and you had half the mind to distantly think that you wanted to run your fingers through it. Something about him seemed comforting like that.

“Hi,” you whispered once you were seeing him eye-to-eye. “Ah, um, thank you for saving me.”

Maybe you were just imagining it, but you could have sworn his eyes widened in an almost human-like manner. He didn’t move from his spot a few feet away from you, and you swallowed. You thought you would be more scared than this, more terrified of the beast standing before you. But as you sat there, watching as he blinked at you, you felt as though you were anything but. An unfamiliar yet strangely comforting warmth curled around in the pit of your stomach as you tilted your head at the wolf.

He felt so... safe. So familiar, almost like you had met him before.

“Are—are you a nice wolf?” you asked after another moment, your voice faltering the tiniest bit. “I’d like to think you’re a nice wolf, since you just saved my life.”

Once again, you were greeted by silence, the only indication that he had heard you at all being the way his ears flicked. What am I doing? you suddenly thought, your mind running at a million miles a minute. I’m talking to a wolf—an animal. I’m not a Disney character.

This was weird—or at least it was supposed to be. Yet, as you stared at this wolf who simply stared back at you with these bright, stunning green eyes, you couldn’t help but feel that everything in this moment was just perfect. Like you had been waiting your entire life for this moment to happen.

“You’re really pretty,” you suddenly blurted. In an instant, you were slamming your palm over your mouth, your cheeks flooding with heat. “Oh my god, that was embarrassing,” you murmured, your voice coming out muffled. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart hammered against your ribcage like a caged bird begging to be let out, and ever so slowly, you lowered your hands from your mouth, offering the wolf a shaky, sheepish smile. “Um, thank you, again,” you said gently, honestly. Leaning forward, you pressed your hands against the cool stone to balance yourself, your fingers digging into the rock as you spoke. “I don’t really know how you knew I was there or how you knew I was going to fall, but I really appreciate it.”

The wolf blinked at you once more, then took another step back, subtly dipping his head. Your smile widened at the sight. Pushing yourself upward, you rose to your feet, brushing off the dust from your frontside before standing upright, fidgeting almost nervously.

“I—I,” you stammered, suddenly feeling awkward, “I think I’m going to go home now, but...” You swallowed, raising your hand in a small wave as heat rose in your chest. “...thank you so much, again!”

Before the warmth in your heart could burst, you whipped around, sprinting away as fast as your legs could take you. You didn’t see the way the wolf practically crumbled into a ball on the ground, whimpering to himself as you disappeared out of sight.

Bolting down the hill and past the trees, branches blew past you in a blur as you dashed between the trunks and over patches of wildflowers. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears like a beating drum, and your chest felt oddly light. You couldn’t shake the memory of how intense that wolf’s gaze had been on yours, his eyes swirling with something that made your stomach churn and your mouth go dry.

He really was pretty.

Sapnap yawned as he stretched his arm behind his back and above his head, rolling his neck as the joint popped back into place with a satisfying crack. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept in like this, but he did not regret it one bit. Clay had given him the okay, after all. One late morning wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Sapnap, you are not going to believe this.”

Sapnap yelped, whipping around with eyes as wide as saucers as he stumbled back a step. The drowsiness left his body in an instant, almost as though he had never been tired to begin with. Clay’s hand shot out to grab his arm, steadying him as he swallowed, relaxing once he realized who he was looking at.

“Holy crap, Clay,” he gasped, pressing a hand to his racing heart, “you scared me! I know you’ve gotten better at this whole stealth thing, but that was just straight up terrifyi—”

Clay’s grip on his arm tightened. “I saved them today,” he whispered.

Sapnap froze, and there was a beat of silence. “You did what, now?”

Just like that, Clay had flung his arms up and around his head, his fingers buried in his hair as he began to pace, his tone frantic and rushed. “There—there was this steeper area with this cliff but it was kind of hidden, and then it was breaking and I just knew something bad was going to happen, and I couldn’t just let that happen, so I moved without thinking and I was pulling them back and—”

A pair of hands suddenly grabbed onto his shoulders, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Breathe,” Sapnap instructed calmly. “You need to breathe, dude.” Clay opened his mouth, but Sapnap spoke before he could. “You are talking so quickly right now, and I can’t understand you when you talk like that.”

Clay closed his mouth, mulling over the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions steamrolling through his head. After a few moments, he finally spoke once more. “I still can’t believe it,” he murmured, suddenly sounding completely and utterly awestruck. “My mate actually stopped and thanked me. And called me pretty.”

Sapnap’s fingers loosened around Clay’s shoulders, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips. “Yeah?”

Clay sighed, sounding absolutely lovestruck. “Yeah.”

Pulling his arms back to cross them over his chest, Sapnap eyed him up and down, cocking his head. “So,” he began gently, “how are you feeling?” When Clay opened his mouth, Sapnap quickly added, “Slowly, please.”

Clay groaned, teasingly rolling his eyes before leaning back on his heels, rocking back and forth as he began to speak. “I only revealed myself as a wolf,” he said softly, “so I don’t know if they know about the mating bond yet. I don’t even know if humans can feel it like we can.”

He tilted his head back, gazing up at the cerulean blue sky. “But there’s something about the way we looked at each other that makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, humans can feel it,” he whispered, sounding breathless all at once. “Call it a gut feeling, I guess. I don’t know.” He cast a glance over at Sapnap, his eyebrows furrowed. “Do I sound crazy?”

A thoughtful look flickered across Sapnap’s face. Then, he grinned. “A little bit, yeah.”

Clay sighed, something he noticed he had been doing a lot more, lately. “I just…” He swallowed. “I just don’t want something like that to happen ever, ever again.”

Suddenly, he fell quiet, his lips parting as the wheels in his head began to turn. Sapnap watched as a tiny spark came to life within his focused gaze, small but oh-so vibrant.

“You got an idea there?” he prompted after a few seconds of silence.

Clay blinked once. Twice. Then, a smile stretched across his face—a smile as bright as the full moon.

“Something like that.”

It was probably a dumb idea for you to return to the forest for your weekly hike as if nothing had happened, but you couldn’t quite quench the curiosity that bubbled up inside you every time you thought about the wolf who had saved you. His gaze had been fiery, yet compassionate, and he had been purposely so gentle when tugging you away from the cliff. You weren't a fool—you knew how powerful a wolf could be. Then why did he treat you so kindly?

You had to find out.

Marching through the brush and shrubbery, you whipped your head this way and that, scanning every strip of forest you could lay your eyes on. Wolves were good at hiding, you knew that. After all, if they weren’t as stealthy as they were, they would never be able to catch a meal. But you had been hiking for almost an hour now, and you still hadn’t seen a single glimpse of the wolf. You couldn’t say you were completely surprised, since it wasn’t like you knew every inch of the forest, but you were frustrated to admit that you were at least a little disappointed. Maybe this was a lost cause.

But then, you heard it.

The sound of a stick snapping.

Freezing, you paused, turning as you glanced to the sides. Nothing out of the ordinary stood among the bushes. You stopped again, then pursed your lips.

No, something was there.

A tender curiosity sparked between your lungs, but it was coated in a thin layer of reluctance. Sucking in a deep breath, you whipped around, squinting at the seemingly empty trees around you as you opened your mouth.

“Wolf?” you called out slowly into the quiet. “Is that you?”

At first, all was quiet, and you held your breath. The leaves rustled around you almost tauntingly, and you distantly heard the caw of a crow. You were just about to give up and go home when a flash of gold caught your eye.

Standing motionless a single yard away was a wolf—your wolf.

A grin stretched across your face, joy surging through your body as you carefully took a few steps forward. Oh, this was definitely a dumb idea, but you was more than brave enough to keep going.

“Hi, there.” You shuffled your feet, a tentative look passing over your face. “You’re, um—” You gulped. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

Clay’s eyes went wide, and he took a step back. No! he thought, hoping you would be able to read his expression, even as a wolf. Never. Not in a million years.

You stared at him for a long moment, blinking slowly as you scanned his face up and down. Then, your lips quirked up into the tiniest of smiles.

“No,” you murmured in the softest of voices, and he felt his heart melt in his chest. “If you were going to do something, you would have done it by now, wouldn’t you?”

Clay nearly sank in relief, and he barked. You raised a brow at the sound, furrowing your brows slightly. “Do you want me to keep you company?” you asked, beginning to walk up to him. “Is that what you’re doing?”

You had only made it a few steps when he suddenly barked again, taking a step toward you. In an instant, you froze, watching with bated breath as he curled around to your other side and gently nudged at your leg with his nose. You shot him a curious glance, stumbling forward the tiniest bit. “Hey,” you said, “what are you...?”

You trailed off, a cut rock face suddenly catching your attention from the corner of your eye. The stony grey wall was nearly perpendicular to the ground and looked almost eerily similar to the one you had nearly fallen down the week prior. Just like that, it clicked.

There was another small cliff right there. He was trying to keep you away from it.

“Oh,” you breathed, your lips splitting into an even wider grin as you made sure to steer away from the short cliff, “you don’t want me falling again, do you?”

He snorted, and you blinked at him. That sounded far more human this time—almost too human. It almost reminded you of a dog, if anything. A triumphant smile slowly crept onto your face, and with your head held high, you turned on your heel, marching onward and away from the rock face.

“Well, wolf,” you said, a teasing arrogance seeping into your tone as you glanced over your shoulder at him, “I promise you that I’ll be much safer this time arou—woah!”

The toe of your shoe caught on a protruding stone, and with a sharp yelp, you stumbled forward, gravity pulling you downward with a harsh pull. With a flail of your arms, you only just barely caught your balance as your hand shot out to grab onto a tree and steady yourself. Your heart flipped in your chest as you planted your feet firmly against the ground, the soles of your shoes pressed flatly against the earth as your fingers curled into the bark. Your chest heaved with surprise as you stood upright, turning to look over your shoulder at the wolf. He blinked at you, and while you knew wolves couldn’t quite smile, something about his gaze almost seemed cocky—like he was laughing at you. Heat crept up your neck and onto your face, your cheeks bursting with warmth.

“Y-You did not see that,” you sputtered, coughing into your sleeve as you brushed off your pants dismissively.

Almost as if to spare you some embarrassment, he turned his head away from you, although you could see his eyes glance your way every few seconds. Pouting, you huffed, whirling on your feet as you continued to trudge down the path. Soon enough, the sound of soft footsteps trailed after you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound, knowing that he would follow you even if you weren't looking.

That night, you dreamt of whispering trees and a pair of bright, viridian green eyes.

What had once been a weekly ritual of watching from afar soon turned into an amicable companionship between human and wolf. You weren't afraid as you walked into the woods to see a familiar pair of eyes waiting for you, your eagerness to see him only growing with each passing week. Clay himself could hardly contain his excitement. Actually walking beside you was so much better than simply watching from the woods, hidden by the trees. He loved your company and absolutely basked in your presence, even if you sent his heart into an absolute frenzy.

“Sometimes,” you said aloud one day, “I really do think you can understand me.”

Clay stiffened, praying you wouldn’t notice the way his ears pressed flat against his head as he turned to look at you. You sat on a tree stump while he padded atop the fallen trunk it sat beside, your gleaming gaze slowly blinking at him as he silently circled around you.

“I think it’s got something to do with the way you react to some of the things I say,” you murmured. You watched the way his tail flicked behind him, the soft fur brushing gently against the low-growing plants. A second later, you sighed, waving your hand. “Ah, I’m probably just imagining things.”

Clay nearly heaved a sigh of relief, continuing to pace. You would say surprising things like that every once in a while, and it would send his heart racing. Well, you usually only said one absurd thing per week, so you probably weren’t going to say another thing like that toda—

“Can I pet you?”

His paws came to a halt. Perhaps he thought too soon.

Before he could even properly process what you had said, You were backpedaling, shaking your head with an apologetic look. “Agh, that’s a terrible question. You’re a wolf, not a dog. There’s no way you wou—”

All of a sudden, he was crawling up to you, jutting his forehead toward your hand. His muzzle was clamped shut as his eyes bore into yours, and you gaped at him, the realization beginning to dawn on you.

“Wait,” you breathed in disbelief, “you’re actually going to let me?”

He didn’t move, lowering his eyes to the ground almost shyly as his ears curled toward you. Slowly, you raised your arm with a shaky hand and reached forward, letting your fingers gently brush over his tawny fur with a feather-light touch. You nearly gasped at the feeling, not noticing the way his legs trembled beneath him.

“Wolf,” you whispered after a few seconds, “you’re really soft.”

Clay nearly combusted on the spot. Perfect—everything about you was just perfect.

With your hand buried in his soft fur and the summer breeze ruffling your hair, You smiled, sighing with warmth lighting up your heart as the wolf at your feet melted beneath your touch.

Sapnap tapped his foot impatiently, squinting up at the glaring sun. George slept in, again. He was kind of used to it now, but even though he wasn’t surprised, he wasn’t afraid to admit that he was more than just a little ticked off.

“My mate pet me today.”

Sapnap tensed for a split second, turning to see Clay staring at him with wide eyes. Relaxing once more, he stared at him for a long, long moment before speaking. He really needed to start giving him some sort of heads up at this point.

“Dude,” he said, “I know that the last time you asked me if you sounded crazy, I said a little bit, but I feel like I might have to change my answer.”

Clay shot him a glare, and he couldn’t stop his lips from twitching in amusement. “Sapnap,” he said bluntly, “you act like you don’t talk about Karl and Alex like this.”

Sapnap looked taken aback for a moment, raising a finger, then lowering it with a defeated look. “Touché.”

As Clay walked off with his head held high and a bounce in his step, Sapnap chuckled, watching him leave with a small smile. He recognized the gleam in his eyes, the rosy hue of his cheeks.

Love—Clay really was in love, wasn’t he?

“I’ve been thinking,” you said one day, a few months later.

Clay perked up at the sound of your voice from where he lay at your feet, soaking in the first few rays of sun. It had been well over a year since he had first laid eyes on you now, and a little over a few months since you began walking together. It was only a matter of time until the leaves would turn golden brown once more as autumn descended upon them.

“I dunno,” you murmured, knocking your legs back against the stone you sat on. “I feel like I should give you a name instead of just calling you wolf all the time.” You flashed him a shy grin, your gaze darting this way and that. “It feels kind of awkward, you know?”

He cocked his head. A name? Chances were you probably weren't going to guess his actual name. He supposed he wouldn’t mind a nickname. Then again, he didn’t think he would mind anything that you might do. Lowering himself closer to the ground, he let out a quiet bark of approval.

Your lips twitched the tiniest bit at the sound, and you hummed, drumming your fingers against your thigh. “How do you feel about... Aaron?”

His emerald eyes flashed as he took a step back, ducking his head the slightest bit. Your lips pursed into a small pout, and you leaned down to rest your chin on your hand. “Alright,” you murmured, “not Aaron, then.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a second. “Roy?”

Clay didn’t even have to think about it for more than a second before he was whimpering, pressing his head to his paws as he dropped his haunches close to the ground. You snorted at his obvious disapproval, tapping the toes of your shoes together with a pensive look.

“Okay,” you said slowly, drawing out the vowel sound, “maybe we should try some less... human-sounding names.” You tilted your head, letting your gaze trail up the tree trunks and up at the sky above. The sun wasn’t shining directly into your eyes this time, and you blinked with surprise to see a puff of white fluff blocking out the light.

“What about,” you offered with a hum, “Cloud?”

You glanced down again, only to see the wolf staring back at you blankly. You couldn’t quite read the look in his eyes, but you had a feeling he wasn’t quite satisfied with this one, either. Lowering your chin, you puffed your cheeks, glancing this way and that across the forest around you. You couldn’t just call him something like Leaf, or Sky—those would be too obvious, too plain for a wolf as lovely as him.

Sighing, you let your eyelids flutter shut, letting the sun wash over your cheeks and warming your skin. He was... special, even if you knew you were biased in your opinion. There was some special quality about him, something that made your chest swell and your heart skip a beat, almost as if he came straight out of a—

“Dream,” you whispered at last.

Clay’s ears perked up at the new name, and he lifted his head, flicking his ears at you. Maybe it was the name itself, maybe it was the way you said it, or maybe it was just you, but something about it just felt right. He barked once, lifting his tail as he stepped toward you.

You blinked at the sight, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Dream?” you repeated. “You like the sound of Dream?”

He barked again, leaping up onto his hind legs for a moment. You grinned, giggling at the sight of such a large wolf acting almost like a dog around you. “Alright,” you murmured, reaching your hand out toward him, “Dream it is.”

Leaning closer to you, he sank into your touch as you rubbed your hand over his head, scratching behind his ears as he let out a soft whine from the back of his throat. Your eyes softened, and you curled your knees a little closer to your chest, resting your chin on them.

“It probably doesn’t matter to you since you’re a wolf and all,” you said softly, your voice almost sounding shy in the quiet of the morning, “but my name is [Y/N].”

Clay felt a tender warmth blossom in the cracks beneath his chest, heat unfurling from the depths of his soul as something inside him swelled beyond belief. Your hand continued stroking his fur all the while, not at all noticing the way he pressed his head a little closer into your soothing touch, yearning and longing for more.

“[Y/N],” his heart sang, shooting from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. “[Y/N], [Y/N], [Y/N].”

Had a name ever sounded as beautiful as yours?

Sapnap was going to wring Skeppy’s neck. Skipping out on a morning meeting was one thing, but skipping it to hang out with your mate? Not even he did that.

“[Y/N].”

Sapnap didn’t bother flinching as he turned to see Clay standing in front of him, panting like his life depended on it. This was far from the first time this had happened, and he was sure it most certainly would not be the last. “What?”

Clay shook his head, half-looking like he was about to collapse on the spot. “My mate’s name is [Y/N].”

Sapnap blinked, then his lips curled up into a smile. “Congrats for learning what it is, man,” he said honestly, patting Clay’s shoulder with his free hand. “That’s fantastic, really. You’re making progress.”

Clay swallowed, and he reached up to drag a hand down his face before letting it drop loosely at his side. “Sapnap,” he said slowly, his voice sounding quiet and raw, “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

Sapnap’s eyebrows knit together, confusion rippling across his features. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You can’t keep visiting?” Something uncomfortable and cold tugged at the back of his mind. “There’s no way you’re just gonna give up like that, are you?”

Clay’s jaw dropped. “What? No! I mean that...” He paused, squeezing his fist for a moment as he sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t think I can keep showing up in only my wolf form.”

The cogs in Sapnap’s whirred to life as he took in his friend’s clenched jaw. Then, his eyes went wide. “Are you saying...?”

Clay nodded, pursing his lips as he swallowed thickly. “I’m going to reveal who I am.”

His eyes flashed with determination.

“Who I really am.”

You hummed as you twisted the key in the hole, the back door locking shut with a click you had grown used to hearing every week for the past year and a half, now. Whirling around, you could already feel the smile start to spread across your face as you leapt off the porch and ran toward the well-worn path, the forest beckoning you forward with a distant howl. You didn’t remember when exactly your weekly hikes grew to become your favourite part of the week, but you couldn’t imagine life without them, anymore.

Sucking in a deep breath, your chest swelled at the fresh air rushing into your lungs, excitement flickering through your body with every step you took. You couldn’t wait to see Dream again, as strange as it may sound. He had grown to be a greater comfort than you would have ever imagined, even if he was just a wolf. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but you knew your feelings were true—you couldn’t deny the warmth he made you feel.

Whipping around a tree trunk, you felt your heart skip a beat. You already knew Dream would be waiting for you at your rock—the one he had saved you from all those weeks ago. It had become a sort of meeting spot for them, and every week without fail, he would appear there, no matter how early or late you were.

As the shrubbery gave way to a clean, dirt trail, you lifted your head, squinting your eyes. You recognized this part of the forest, and you knew that you were getting closer. Just then, you saw it—the familiar streak of grey stone slanting up from the earth in a small cliff face. Usually, Dream would sit at the cliff base, his ears already pointed toward you. But today, your brows furrowed when you didn’t see a pair of ears facing you, but a head of hair.

Someone else was at your rock.

Slowing your pace to a walk, you paused for a moment, eyeing the figure sitting at your usual meeting spot. It was a man, you realized, and he was facing away from you. He wore a simple white shirt with jeans, and his hair was a shade of dirty blond with streaks of gold. Even if only from the back, it looked almost oddly familiar gleaming underneath the morning sun.

Taking a tentative step forward, you curled your fingers into your palm. “Hello?” you called hesitantly.

The man startled for a moment, then turned toward you, his face coming into view. As his gaze locked onto yours, he opened his mouth and uttered two simple words.

“Hi, [Y/N].”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat.

His voice was soft, gently wrapping around you like a soothing blanket. Your gaze only briefly raked over the comforting smile gracing his lips, instead focusing on the gleam in his eyes that danced with something warm and inviting.

His eyes were green—a shade of green that you had grown to know and adore.

No, you thought, your heart trembling in your chest. He couldn’t possibly be...

You took another step forward, closing the space between them by another few inches. With your eyebrows knitting together, your voice dropped to a small, curious whisper. “Dream?”

He shot you a crooked grin, chuckling softly. “That’s my name—or at least the one you gave me.” Leaning forward, he rose to his feet, the sun casting a bright streak of light across his cheeks. “My real name is Clay.”

All of a sudden, you felt as though all the air had been sucked out of your lungs. “Clay,” you repeated, your mind slowly growing murky with confusion, “but you’re also Dream. How...?”

A sheepish look skittered across his face, and he ducked his head. The way he lowered his chin was familiar, looking almost far too like a certain wolf you knew. “I—I guess you could say I live in two worlds with two forms,” he began. “Sometimes I’m a wolf, sometimes I’m a human.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but you didn’t miss the way his shoulders remained tense. “You already know one of them, but I didn’t want to keep hiding this form from you, so...” He gestured to himself with a bashful look. “...here I am.”

You blinked at him slowly, the muddled fog in your head slowly giving way to a strikingly warm clarity. But before the clouds could fully part, your lips began to move.

“You’re still pretty,” you blurted, your eyes going wide as soon as the words left your mouth.

In a flash, Clay’s cheeks flushed crimson, a haze of rosy pink dusting his freckles. “H-Huh?”

Waving your hands in front of you, you took a step back, embarrassment shooting up your spine. “I-I mean to say that you’re still pretty as a human! Because you’re pretty in both of your forms!” You stiffened, exasperation soaking your features as your knees buckled. “Wait, no, oh no, that’s also embarrassing... wait, please, um—”

Suddenly, he began to laugh. You fell quiet as you watched Clay clutch at his stomach, his lips split into a wide grin as peals of laughter tumbled from his lips. A familiar pit of warmth flared up in your stomach, one you had felt standing here with Dream so many times before.

He really was Dream, wasn’t he?

As his chuckles finally died down into silence, he stood upright once more, wiping a barely there tear from his eye. “I’m sorry for laughing,” he managed with an apologetic smile. “You must be confused about, well, everything.”

You offered him an honest, lopsided grin. “A little.”

His smile slowly melted from his features, and he cleared his throat as he turned to face you head-on. “Well, this is probably going to sound weird, but you and I...” He swallowed, his gaze flashing. “We’re mates.”

You blinked, your lips parting in surprise. Something in your chest slowly expanded. “Mates?” you repeated softly.

He nodded, his expression firm yet hesitant. “Yes, mates. It means that in one way or another, our souls are connected.” Inhaling deeply, he screwed his eyes shut before continuing. “It’s a lot to take in, I know, but I just want you to know that you don’t have to accept the mating bond.” His voice was trembling now, growing quieter by the second as he squeezed his hands into fists at his side. “You don’t owe me anything. I know this must be scary for you, and the last thing I want is for you to feel pressured because of m—”

“I’m not afraid.”

Clay’s eyes shot wide open, and he raised his head, shock etched into his features. “You aren’t?” he whispered.

The smile on your face was open and kind, and you shook your head. “No,” you murmured, sincerity lacing your every word. “Not at all. Dream, Clay... no matter what your name is, you’re still you, and I know you.” You took another step forward, your eyes never leaving his. There was hardly any space between them now, and Clay could feel his shoulders begin to shake with the sheer gravity of the moment. “I can’t explain it, but I just know I do.”

He swallowed, a whirlwind of anxiety and affection brewing just beneath the surface of his skin. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I know I’m just a stranger to you.”

You shook your head, again. “You’re not,” you said quietly. “Not to me.”

Before he could even register what was happening, you were reaching for his hand, clasping your palms around his fingers and holding them gently. His heart flipped in his chest at the feeling of your skin against his, and something stung at the back of his eyes.

You were so warm.

“I want to do this,” you whispered, just for him to hear and him alone, “I promise. I—” You gulped, your gaze remaining steady. “I might not know anything about your world yet, but I want to learn.”

You squeezed his hand. “I want to learn more about you.”

Clay sucked in a ragged breath. With shaky fingers and a gentle touch, he pressed his other hand to the back of yours, squeezing back ever so slightly. “I want to learn more about you, too.”

The smile you flashed him easily outshone the sun and every star that scattered across the night sky, and for a moment, he thought his heart had stopped in his chest.

“I’m glad,” you said, your eyes gleaming with delight. “I think we’ll have plenty of time to do that on our hike.”

Right then, a breeze came drifting past, the distant scent of rain filling the air. The trees murmured with rustling leaves and flapping wings as two birds landed on a hanging branch above, gazing down at the two silhouettes standing at the base of the rock face. Just for a moment, or maybe even two, the entire forest went still.

And unbeknownst to you and Clay, right between your feet, a flower began to bloom.

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cybertronian-cupid · 3 years

Note

Hi, if you're comfortable with writing something like that; could I request something with Megatron (any Megatron of your choice) comforting his afab non-binary s/o who's been dealing with massive dysphoria recently? It's super self-indulgent and I understand if you refuse. Either way, thank you, and have a nice weekend!

Self indulgence is the whole reason this blog exists anon!💥Went with tfa, hope this is close to what you’ve had in mind.~Gregoria🏩

(feedback on this one would be very much appreciated, since these sorts of requests are done with best intentions, but that doesn't mean that there are no mistakes in portrayal. If something isn't written well despite research, it would mean the world to hear so from first hand, so we can decide to try and write better, or not focus on these types of requests if they do more harm than good)

............................. ....................... ............................

“Fragment for your thoughts?”

Their scowl turns in his direction, hands balling deeper in the pockets of their hoodie.

“You know what, so stop bothering me,”

Megatron’s eyes narrow, the red triangular lenses refocusing on their face, taking in their disgruntled expression. The tension has been high for days now, and it’s about time he does something about it. He extends a servo, placing it near enough for them to step on.

“This is not meant to be an interrogation, love. I simply wish to speak with you,”

They take longer than usual to come to him, and even longer to speak again when he heads out on a flight with them. They even try to get out of him fastening the seat belt, muttering about it making things worse. His retort before takeoff is that he'd rather have his one and only favourite organic and partner in mild discomfort, than splattered across his internals in case of an autobot attack. When they finally manage to share their frustrations with him, describing just how awful they’ve been feeling recently, it soon becomes a conversation and he shares his own thoughts in regards to his own frame. It doesn’t feel like his, and since it’s barely anything like his original frame, he believes the feeling is one that is comparable.

“Yeah? You can say you want to be called something else and others will fall at your feet if they make the mistake, because like fuck anyone would do it on purpose! At least you can change your frame to fit, change how you want it to look and feel with no problems! You’re a robot, what do you know about what this feels like!”

He is silent after their outburst for a good couple of minutes, the air tense and cold.

“Despite being robots, as you and the professor seem so keen on pointing out, you seem to forget that we are sentient. Out of everyone trapped on this miserable wet rock your species inhabits, I’d say the feeling of discomfort is one I am quite familiar with. Nerves and circuitry are not as different as you might think.” he calmly states, and the two of them fly in silence from that point onward, until he eventually speaks again in a softer tone.

“Comfort in one’s frame is a great benefit in battle, that much I know for certain. And you, my dear warrior, are a victor of everyday challenges.” They can feel his field brush against their skin, the hairs on their body standing up straight from the staticy feeling. It carries a silent apology, attempted comfort that causes their muscles to relax slightly.

“My frustrations are not turned towards you. We shall address this topic more in depth in the future, but for now I suggest we focus on what will help you. It is about time we find an advantage for you,”

The seatbelt around them tentatively presses against them in a slow, reassuring squeeze, as close to a hug as he can give in his alt mode. “Is this agreeable, my love? Take your time, there is no rush in answering right away.”

He has the means, he knows the outline of Detroit on a nearly intimate level, so locating anything his partner needs never takes long. They discuss future actions, assess what risks and procedures (if there are any) that they are willing to undergo. He knows there is not much to be done when their dysphoria hits harder, aside from providing as much comfort as he can and keeping a watchful eye on them, making sure they are aware how cherished and important they are to him.

"No matter the way your feelings manifest, I am here for you. And nothing will stop me from loving you, no matter what that brain of yours suggests or tries to convince you of. You are not getting rid of me that easily, warrior mine."

#Tfa #transformers animated #tfa megatron #tfa megatron x nb!s/o #tfa megatron x reader #dysphoria #anon

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mythicamagic · 3 years

Text

In the Company of Wolves: Inukog oneshot

Summary: Every place feels like a temporary home for a Hanyou. Kouga offers Inuyasha a welcome respite within his wolf pack. Inukog oneshot

Written for @gaykagome, who has been a lovely, encouraging commenter and fandom friend ^^ thank you for your support bud.

Rated T

7,000 words (you can also read this on ao3 via the same username)

In the Company of Wolves

Leaping through sprawling trees, thick white hair flew out behind a red figure. Inuyasha landed on a sturdy branch, legs bent, muscles coiling and springing free as he leapt forth again. He smirked, a fang hooking over his bottom lip.

"Nice try, but you ain't got a hope in hell."

The deer fleeing for its life beneath the branches had skittered to the left, racing through dense undergrowth. Perhaps it hoped to lose him, or maybe it was running scared. Either way, this would be over quick.

Stepping from branch to branch, long fingers flexed, claws catching on sunlight. Pushing off from a tree trunk, Inuyasha sprang down with every intent of landing atop his prey.

He fell within range, closing in- only for his foot to collide with a mass of thick black fur.

Inuyasha's eyes flew wide, crashing into the beast and hitting the floor in a tumble of limbs. The deer merrily pranced away out of sight.

Snarling and lifting his head, Inuyasha cradled his throbbing skull. "Damn it, what the-!"

A large bear-sized wolf staggered to its feet, rumbling a noise of complaint. Two cobalt blue eyes glared at him.

Inuyasha stopped, "Kouga?" he rose a bushy brow.

There was no mistaking that smell. He'd never seen the mangy wolf's true form before though. In all honesty, it was kind of surreal. Hell, the guy even looked a bit more dignified.

Kouga tilted his head, standing. As he shook himself, yellow, static powder fell from his fur like gold dust, swirling into a whirlwind of youki. In a matter of moments, Kouga's humanoid form stepped out, hands on his hips.

"Why'd you get in my way?! You lost me my meal!"

White triangular ears flicked and pressed back against his skull. Fuck taking that. Inuyasha stood, hands balled into fists.

"Your meal?! I've been tracking that deer for at least an hour! You weren't even in the picture, I didn't smell ya chasing it once!"

Kouga tilted his chin up, flashing a cheeky grin. "Tch, that's what happens when you track from downwind, Dog Breath," he muttered, ignoring the pissed off Hanyou and looking around. "How come you're out here huntin' anyway? Isn't Kagome with you? She always carries some goodies to chew on. Tastier than venison too."

Inuyasha glanced away moodily, crossing his arms. "Shaddap. Like it's any of your business."

Kouga hummed, scratching his jaw. Odd. There was no bite in his tone. Sniffing a little, Kouga picked up the faint scent of sadness clinging to the robe of the fire rat.

Inuyasha's face heated. He quickly bared his teeth, "quit with that! She's just busy, alright? Besides, I can still hunt for myself. Ain't you a little far from your territory to be hunting out here?"

Kouga blinked, mildly concerned despite their history together. "Uhh… where do you think you are, Dog Breath?"

Frowning, Inuyasha glanced around. Clearly no answers were forthcoming from the forest, so leaping up, he climbed a tree, digging claws into rough bark to hoist himself up. Minding the tallest branches aside, Inuyasha gaped as he surfaced from the sea of greenery. Sprawling, picturesque mountains met his startled gaze.

How far did I chase that deer?

And why'd it have to lead him to Kouga's turf, of all places?

Dropping down to solid ground again, Inuyasha avoided eye contact. "I just got caught up in running, that's all," he answered the silent question hanging in the air.

Kouga tilted his head slightly, "… right."

A rumbling sound rang out between them. Inuyasha grit his teeth, ignoring the impatient gurgling of his stomach and swiftly turning. "Whatever. See ya," he started walking.

"Hey-" Kouga called, causing him to nearly trip in surprise and frown over one shoulder.

The wolf winced, looking awkward and weirded out to even be asking. "We got leftovers. If you want some," the offer was casual. "Don't want you keeling over on the way back, Kagome would kill me."

Inuyasha stared. Maybe he'd hit his head or something because for some reason, the offer sounded like a tempting one.

"Keh," he grunted, pivoting on one heel and trudging towards Kouga's territory instead. "Better be good," he complained with no energy behind it.

"Its free food! Be more grateful to your host," the wolf snarked, jogging to keep pace with him.

---

Mutters echoed throughout the cave, causing white ears to twitch and swivel atop his head. Inuyasha ignored the curious wolves, digging into tough boar meat. Uncooked. Miroku and Kagome would've called it ghastly. His lips twitched at the thought, soon wiped away. Something squeezed his chest instead.

"Hey, blabber-mouths! Keep it down!" Kouga's booming voice caught his dazed attention.

Ginta and Hakkaku quickly shut up, apologising. The rest of the wolf pack fell quiet, though their eyes blazed with questions.

Inuyasha rose a brow and glanced at the Wolf Prince. Did he think the gossiping bothered him or something? Weird guy. He should know a Hanyou would be used to it.

Kouga's tail flicked as he strode through regular wolves, minding some beasts aside. He then threw himself down beside Inuyasha on some soft furs, stealing a rib. Not having the energy or inclination to snap at him for it, Inuyasha merely flashed his teeth, grunting and continuing to eat.

"So what brings you to us, Inuyasha?" Hakkaku asked bluntly. Ginta gasped and fretted, clearly having wanted to ask more delicately.

Inuyasha drew into himself slightly, noticing a hush fall over the atmosphere within the damp cave.

"Was just in the neighbourhood is all. If ya wanna blame someone for dragging me here, look no further than your precious leader," he snorted, sidestepping the question.

Kouga elbowed him and chuckled in a deep, rich baritone. Triangular ears flicked upon hearing it. "Aw c'mon! You practically tripped over yourself getting here you were so eager," glimmering blue eyes swung to his pack, giving a shit-eating grin. "He's just too proud to say 'thank you for the meal' because he lost his prey and is still being a sore loser about it~"

Inuyasha blinked, noticing his verbal diversion and change in topic. Kouga was... helping him?

Sure enough, the wolf demon gazed at him, brows raised in challenge, trying to encourage a rebuttal.

Relief touched Inuyasha's face for a moment, before snorting loudly and thrusting his nose up in the air, turning away. "Me? You're the one who got in my way, Mangy Wolf."

"Dog Breath!"

"Flea Bag!"

The wolves glanced back and forth between them, noticing the lack of malice in their nicknames. Their scents were calm, giving them away. A touch of humour and enjoyment radiated from them as they bickered.

"Alright, prove it-" Kouga suddenly threw out. "Hunt with us tomorrow. Then we'll see who's better at it," he jabbed a thumb at his chest. "Obviously, it'll be us wolves! I've provided for my pack as leader for tons of years and I'm faster than you."

Rolling golden eyes, Inuyasha picked up a stone, hollowed out cup of water, taking a sip. "Keh, wouldn't be the first time people have underestimated me. Won't be the last," easing slightly closer to get in Kouga's face, he bared sharp fangs in a feral grin. "I'll beat you just like I've beaten everyone else who figured a half-breed couldn't measure up to a full demon."

Kouga stared, a funny look crossing his face- both palms shooting up to wave slightly. "Huh? Nah, you've got me wrong," he grunted, straightening his spine. "I was just trash talkin' you as competition, not because you're a Hanyou. I honestly wasn't thinkin' of that," his voice trailed into a musing tone.

A stab of surprise and disorientation swung through Inuyasha. There was no time to recover, however, as the demon kept talking. "Though now that you mention it, you're probably used to hunting alone, right? We'd call you a Lone Wolf if you were one of our kind. My pack will win through sheer teamwork."

Inuyasha huffed. So clearly it was more like 1 vs 30 rather than a fair fight. Coward.

Ah well. Looking down at the bones he'd picked clean, he gave a rough shrug of his shoulders. Not like he had anything else to do. He could stick around a little longer.

"You're on."

----

Many hours after the sun had gone down, taking its vibrant colourful sky with it, the moon had opened up her blanket of stars. Inuyasha sat at the mouth of the wolf pack's cave, hands thrust inside his sleeves. Tetsusaiga rested against one shoulder.

The wolves had finished singing their melodies to their mother, the moon, so they'd settled down.

Golden eyes slid towards their sleeping forms. They'd packed themselves tight against one another to retain some heat. Only a few had broken off in pairs to cuddle by themselves. Ginta and Hakkaku were well and truly wrapped around one another, swathed in furs.

They all looked comfortable. Trusting, together. A family unit.

Inuyasha stared. The most annoying part about it was that he could never pinpoint exactly what he was feeling, looking at groups like this. It made him uncomfortable, a reminder that they had something he didn't. Maybe he had, for a time, but his friends had all split off to live their own lives. Shippo was growing up. Miroku and Sango had their own family now.

Kagome…

He wasn't needed anymore. Their quest had been over for a long time. He should be over it by now.

Staring at the pack was like looking into a store window in Kagome's time. Unseen glass forever separated him from what they possessed.

Kouga lifted his head from where he lay, noting a chill in the air. Inuyasha met his gaze, quickly turning to face the other way and pretending to look at sprawling scenery. A snort sounded out in the cave before sharp, static youki fanned into the breeze.

Transformed, Kouga stepped around his pack and lay down towards the entrance, blocking out the night's chilly breeze with his thick fur and large form.

Inuyasha glanced behind him with mild surprise.

Kouga was maybe, actually, kind of…

... a good leader.

---

It started at midday.

The pack immediately flooded the forest, racing through it like droves of rats. Inuyasha shared a look with Kouga, before smirking and starting to leap from tree to tree.

Hunting with wolves nearby started to look next to impossible, considering how eagerly they dove and ran through the undergrowth, loud and clumsy. However, the second they caught wind of a herd, they split off into different, smaller groups. Inuyasha watched them from his vantage point above.

Scouts ran on ahead. Kouga kept towards the back of his pack, signalling orders with mere grunts, growls or gestures of his hand. Inuyasha followed the scouts, dropping down to run alongside them. They were slightly younger demons, teenage boys and girls, lithe and built for running. They stared at him but gave tentative grins.

Inuyasha blinked and offered a slight smirk, soon powering on ahead and leaving them behind.

Sniffing out a herd of deer that the wolves intended to close in on, Inuyasha kept to his vantage point in the trees. He rounded one side of a large clearing, heart thundering.

It had been a long time since he'd hunted seriously. It took him back to old times. Kagome had spoiled him with ramen, and complacency softened his body. But now rusty instincts were awakening, shaking the dust away. His fangs ached. Demon senses kicked in, blood pumping. He could hear and smell everything, down to the blades of grass, fusty scent of deer and pungent odour of wolves.

As predicted, Kouga's scouts halted at the opposite side of the treeline. Lower-ranking wolves and wolf demons alike burst through into the meadow then, causing the herd to take off running.

Right towards Inuyasha.

Dumbasses. Didn't they figure they were leading them right to him?

Grinning, Inuyasha's clawed nails elongated slightly. Waiting as a few deer ran beneath his position- he suddenly lept. Free-falling and spreading both arms wide, he tackled a stag around the neck, yanking it down with him using his weight.

Grabbing it by the antlers the second he recovered, Inuyasha gave a quick jerk, snapping its neck cleanly.

Panting and grinning, he raised triumphant eyes-

Only to see Kouga bent over a felled deer not too far away. His mouth was bloodied. His prey lay dead on one side. It was obvious from the number of adults mid-way through their meal that they'd taken it down much quicker than Inuyasha. They'd had the same idea, flushing out prey and leaping upon them from the opposite direction. Somehow they'd evaded even his detection.

Younger wolves looped around, waiting pensively for their turn.

Kouga licked his lips, maintaining eye contact. Dark hair hung loose from its typical ponytail, claws stained crimson. Inuyasha's heart skittered. His breath halted.

The demon drew bloodied lips back over his fangs when a lower wolf sniffed too close to his food- a loud, powerful snarl thrumming through the clearing.

An answering rumble built in Inuyasha's throat, unbidden. Blazing, twisting heat hooked low in his stomach, cock twitching.

Golden eyes snapped wide, realising just what the fuck he was reacting to.

Kouga's feral expression softened back to normal, shooting him a surprised grin and happily digging into his meal, none the wiser.

Shaken, Inuyasha grimly started tucking into his own, busying himself with eating. He then offered some scraps to some salivating teens, ignoring the amused demons watching. He wasn't above dining with pups. Especially if it meant never confronting what had just happened.

---

"So you and Kagome broke up, huh?"

Inuyasha jolted, wondering how obvious he'd been about it. Frowning at Kouga, who seemed content to laze within the den after the hunt, he gave a long exhale. "Have been for a few months now."

"Gotcha."

"We're still friends though, so don't even think about sniffing after her again."

"I ain't about to, Dog Breath," Kouga flashed him a wolfish grin, slowly sobering, "you wanna talk about it? Only it seems to be eatin' at ya."

Running a hand through his hair and giving a dusty sigh, Inuyasha stared blankly at the forest down below. With no other wolves around, he felt somewhat better about talking so plainly.

"Nothin' much to talk about, she's with someone else now. Seems happy."

Kouga made a noise of affirmation, showing he was listening while picking at his teeth with a pinky.

"I've got a crappy track record with relationships."

"You've got a crappy track record with women, yeah."

Inuyasha whipped his head back to stare at Kouga, wondering what he meant by that. If he meant what Inuyasha thought he meant.

Kouga remained in a reclining position, meeting his gaze easily. The late afternoon sun touched his skin, giving it a warm glow, hooded eyes seeming to darken. "You ever think about trying to be with someone else, rather than pining after the same soul over and over?"

Inuyasha's lips thinned, cheeks heating.

"I dunno. I was with Kikyo and then after being sealed to the tree- I woke up and met Kagome like no time had passed," he grunted. This would usually be the part where he clamped up. He didn't like talking about something so vulnerable. Self-preservation had taught him not to divulge too much, even to friends like Kagome. Kouga could easily mock him. However…

Looking over, no sinister motivation seemed to compel the wolf. He was genuinely interested. Inuyasha's insides screamed at him as he reluctantly continued. "It was like… it made sense to be with her, but I barely had a chance to process losing Kikyo. Things just kinda happened," he shook his head slightly. "Startin' fresh? Sounds like a fairy tale."

Kouga chuckled deeply, causing Inuyasha's ears to twitch again. His stomach did a nervous flip, but there was no cruelty in that rich tone. "Kinda set in your ways, huh? You're like a human in that respect."

"Keh, well what about you? Been with anyone recently?" Inuyasha asked flatly. He wasn't fishing or anything.

Kouga stretched languidly, yawning and exposing sharp-pointed canines. Blunt claws flexed wide, before curling into his palms again. "Nothing permanent. My last 'relationship' was with a guy for a couple of weeks. Just casual stuff. Heh, bet that's unthinkable to you, right?"

Inuyasha bristled, cheeks reddening. He tossed his head and huffed in answer.

"Oi, I don't mean anything by it. I think it's great you're such a loyal pup and have soul-consuming relationships instead of flings. Still, it sounds kind of exhausting to me," the wolf shrugged.

"I thought 'wolves mated for life', you sure tried that line on Kagome."

"We do," Kouga muttered, looking at him, "but only after we find someone special. We got an expression, us wolves. It basically translates to 'my heart and liver.' You gotta find someone that really fits your needs, who you pursue like they're a missing organ inside you. Till we find our chosen one, we're free to pursue who we want."

Inuyasha snorted, "and Kagome was that person to you?" he drawled sarcastically.

Kouga shrugged, not catching it. His earnest, blunt disposition was somewhat refreshing, if Inuyasha were being honest. "I figured so. But after three years of thinking about it, I kinda dove headfirst into loving her without really knowing her. I pursued her so hard that I forgot to think about why I was even running."

Unbidden, a smile came to the Hanyou's mouth, a fang hooking over his lip. He chuckled, eyes warming. Something heavy lifted from his shoulders. "We're both dumbasses," he said, golden eyes dancing. It felt kind of good to not be alone in that. To know they both should've done better.

Kouga blinked, gaze roving over his face. Slowly, he gave an answering, amiable smile. "You get a snaggle-tooth when you grin," he pointed out teasingly. "It's cute."

"Don't think you can flirt with me just because we bonded for a second, wolf," Inuyasha rolled his eyes and forcefully snuffed out his grin.

"No I'm gonna," Kouga chuckled, tail thumping beside him.

Something dissuaded the Hanyou from hotly shutting this down. His heart sat a little lighter in his chest, shoulders relaxed. If the dumbass wanted to keep saying stupid shit, who was he to stop him?

----

After that day, Inuyasha resolved to stay- at least until he caught a kill quicker than the wolves during a hunt.

Kouga became somewhat more shameless and flirty. It started out subtle. Well, subtle for Kouga.

One time, Inuyasha had leisurely taken a sip of his drink, setting it down and not noticing the wolf sit beside him. Kouga then proceeded to pick it up.

He crooked his wrist as he lifted the cup so that his lips landed squarely over the same place Inuyasha's had just occupied. He'd performed the manoeuvre so quickly that Inuyasha wasn't sure at first of what he'd seen. But as Kouga drank, he glanced at him, and Inuyasha knew then that the move had been intentional.

There were other small, maddening things. Kouga's tail brushing against his hip in passing. How he always brought over a slab of meat from a fresh kill to Inuyasha first during evening meals. How he offered over and over to take a 'friendly' dip in the waterfall together.

Inuyasha rolled his eyes at the attention. It never strayed too far into 'Miroku' territory, but it also wasn't something to take it seriously. The other wolves by now had caught on and sometimes teased their leader. Kouga laughed it off yet continued undaunted. When he next offered Inuyasha a pot, the Hanyou blinked.

"Are those stingers?" he grunted.

Sure enough, bee stings dotted bronze skin. The idiot hadn't removed the stingers from his hand.

The wolf chuckled, gesturing to the covered pot. "Ya mentioned that honey goes well with meat, so I got some for you."

Staring and feeling weird again, Inuyasha heaved a sigh and grabbed Kouga by the wrist, tugging him to kneel beside him. "Hold still, idiot. Do your feet run away with your brain or somethin'? You have to take these out," he bent over his hand, clawed fingers grasping a stinger.

"I was just eager to get it back to y- OW!"

Huffing, the Hanyou continued in his task, ignoring the whimpering demon. Despite his gruffness however, he leaned Kouga's arm over his knee, one hand gripping the back of the wolf's to keep it steady. He could feel Kouga's sharp inhale close to his cheek.

Finally removing the last of the stingers, Inuyasha's dog demon side betrayed him. As natural as breathing; he'd bent his head and swiped a careful tongue over a red sore to soothe the wound unthinkingly. Human embarrassment kicked in then, and he dropped Kouga's wrist like a rock, lurching back and standing.

"There! Tend to your own damn hand now!"

A ripple of laughter washed over the pack as Inuyasha stormed away, leaving Kouga to stare at the spot of saliva on his hand like it were a dewy jewel.

---

When next hunting, Inuyasha set off on his own under cloudy skies. He didn't keep track of the mass of wolves flooding the forest. Closing his eyes and removing the robe of the fire-rat to leave him in his white underlayer, he sank into a crouch. Burying Tetsusaiga somewhere safe at the base of a tree, he exhaled. The hanyou then began the process of shedding.

Shedding didn't entail fur. Rather, for him, it meant shaking off the layers of bullshit that weighed on his mind. He even stopped thinking about himself as a person. His mind turned blank, running through the forest like an animal.

He hadn't hunted via pure instinct in so long. He forgot how to speak with a human tongue, letting out grunts and growls. Saliva pooled in his mouth. Unknowingly, golden eyes tinged red. Faint markings cut across his cheeks. Fangs and claws elongated, youki pounding through his system with every thunder of his heartbeat.

A hare darted out from the bushes- and Inuyasha lunged.

He was barely aware of Kouga looping closer until he jogged out from the trees. "Hey, mutt- no luck for us today. Think that last hunt scared the herd too far awa-"

The creature hunched over spun around, a mangled kill hanging limp from his mouth. It hit the ground with a sickening thud as long white hair bristled, puffing up. A deep, rumbling snarl deafened Kouga's ears.

Inuyasha gazed at him, unblinking, panting with ragged breaths.

Kouga stopped and stared. Unbidden, the wilder, fiercer side of his nature reared its head. Teeth and claws gleamed, interest piqued.

However, something was wrong.

Inuyasha gasped and grunted, bending low and whimpering with pain. His body began fighting with itself, his demon blood coursing too strong for his hanyou form to withstand.

Kouga didn't really know anything about hanyou kind. However, he knew enough about the situation to realise a particular sword was missing from Inuyasha's hip. Turning tail and hurrying away, it was a simple matter of tracking Inuyasha's scent all the way to the base of a tree.

The fog cleared from crimson eyes, and Inuyasha blinked, panting. He flexed his shaking hand around a muddied Tetsusaiga, the partial transformation leaving him worn and ragged.

Kouga was squatting next to him. Concern probably wasn't the right word for it, but he gazed at him seriously for a moment before standing.

"Don't do stupid stuff just to win bets, Mutt Face."

Coughing, Inuyasha slowly adjusted back into his old senses, gripping his sword so tight his knuckles bled white. "Yeah... fine, whatever... Mangey Wolf."

----

The 'incident' as Kouga called it was not an isolated one in terms of throwing him for a damn loop. After bathing at the waterfall in a nice, refreshing midday dip, Kouga noticed an absence immediately.

"Where's Inuyasha?"

Ginta looked up from polishing some armour.

"I'm not sure. He started getting fidgety and sniffed around- then he looked at the sky and took off without a word to anyone. I think he looked a bit pale."

Kouga frowned. In a few hours, it would get dark. Tracking him would be more difficult.

Wasting no time, Kouga lept from their den, sailing down the side of the rocky mountain face. His black hair and wolf tail flew up to flutter in the breeze. "Be back later!" he called, ignoring Ginta's confusion.

Bursting into a mini tornado of power, Kouga started running, lifting his nose to scent the air. Locating Inuyasha's unique smell, he sprinted into the gloom of the trees. It seemed the Hanyou hadn't wanted to be found. His scent zig-zagged everywhere, even travelling upriver, perhaps intending to lose anyone tracking him.

Kouga smirked. As if that would work on a full demon.

By the time dusk settled in, however, Kouga felt antsy. Still no sign of the mutt, and it was getting dark. Even his scent had become strange and diluted.

Stopping beneath the canopy of trees and frowning, Kouga shifted his attention to the waning light above. The moon was out, but faint.

Kouga's eyes widened slightly. A new moon.

Hearing a sigh and the crunch of weight shifting on dried leaves, Kouga turned, nose twitching.

A willow tree sat relatively still and serene, located near some stretch of water. Weeping, draping branches were parted by Kouga's rough palms. He peered into the shadows behind the sweeping curtain, finding a familiar face.

Inuyasha stood, eyes incredibly dark. Midnight locks of hair split down broad shoulders. He stood weary and watchful, gripping a useless Tetsusaiga.

"What are you doing here?" Inuyasha muttered.

Kouga gave a look, as though it should be obvious, stepping into his private space beneath the darkening tree. "I came here to find ya, obviously."

Dark eyes widened slightly at his blunt honesty. Sighing anew, Inuyasha rubbed at his forehead. "Dumbass. I'm guessing you forgot what night I transform despite seeing it yourself before?"

"Kinda," the wolf demon shrugged, resting both hands on his hips and walking around the tree, glancing at the fresh kill of a rabbit. "Glad ya fed yourself at least. C'mon, let's go back before we lose any more light. Unless of course you wanna stumble around in the dark, forcing me to hold your hand?" he teased.

Inuyasha gazed back soberly, causing the mirth to leave Kouga's eyes. Both fell quiet.

As a human, Inuyasha lost many things. Animal ears, a keen sense of smell, golden irises that gleamed like a treasure trove. He also lost a certain harshness. The thick wall of defence usually built up around his heart had crumbled.

Like this, Inuyasha looked much softer. In more ways than one.

"I don't want to go back looking like this," Inuyasha muttered. "And neither do you."

"What're you yappin' about?"

Bushy brows pulled down, and he backed up slightly. "Listen, you've had your fun little charity experience including a Hanyou in your shit, but I know how full demon society works. I'm not stupid. You're all fine with me hanging around as some little project to measure yourselves against, but when it comes down to it, you don't want to confront this part."

Kouga's heavy brows pulled down, a sneer marring his lips. "Ah, I get it. Ya think my pack will mock you because it's your human night? You're a fucking idiot," he sighed. "I was in love with Kagome. Ya think anyone's gonna say shit? Admit it, you just feel vulnerable because you got baby skin and no fangs."

Inuyasha's expression flickered; an open book. His hands balled into fists, stubbornness setting his mouth into a thin, grim line.

Kouga gave an exaggerated sigh, grabbing his arm, "quit bein' stubborn-"

Yanking himself free, Inuyasha gave a poor imitation of a snarl, exposing blunt teeth. "Get lost!"

Growling, Kouga blurred in the air- appearing behind him and grabbing the failing human around the waist- lifting so that his kicking feet left the ground. "We're going back, it's cold out! Your baby skinned, barely furred ass will catch a cold, and I ain't dealing with that!" he started walking.

With a yowl of outrage, Inuyasha swung his elbow back into Kouga's face. With a grunt, he was released, only for the two to snarl and grapple once again. Heels dug into mud- foreheads smacked, palms clasped and muscles strained on Inuyasha's end to match the power of a demon, failing. Kouga licked at his bleeding nose, before giving a hard shove. Landing on forest ground and losing themselves in senseless scrapping, sharp teeth closed around a curved ear.

Inuyasha yelped, dark eyes flying wide. Did he just?-

He had! Kouga had reprimanded him like a damn pack member.

Sensation burst within his chest, boiling over, consuming. He didn't know how to react to it. Therefore, Inuyasha didn't stop to think about his actions. When drowning in feeling, his mind turned blank, and he acted on impulse.

Curling coarse fingers in dark hair and latching tight- he yanked Kouga down by the back of the neck- mouths colliding.

Teeth knocked. Lips strained against hard pressure. Inuyasha's grip tugged Kouga's hair tight against his scalp. It was painful. It was uncomfortable. It was brilliant.

The wolf demon reeled, inhaling hard through his nostrils. His senses flooded with Inuyasha's human scent.

There was a reason Kagome's slap had cemented her into Kouga's head as a potential mate. He wasn't used to being opposed. Everyone listened to him, and he talked freely. But a push back, a stubborn, fierce 'no!' made his world tilt on its axis. It was exactly what he needed. Someone to raise their voice and get his attention. An opposing view to clash with his own. That was what leaders primarily looked for in partners, not meek obedient types.

And Kouga couldn't say he personally disliked it either.

Releasing him, Inuyasha panted. His face suddenly paled, realisation dawning. "Shit," he muttered, drawing back and falling silent.

Kouga opened his mouth, then closed it. There were no words he could scramble together in his currently fried brain. What he did know- was that the weather still felt chilly, and Inuyasha needed a place to sleep. He kind of felt the desire to prod for more, but judging by Inuyasha's closed off, guarded look, that wouldn't be happening anytime soon.

They picked themselves up, standing. Inuyasha wiped some mud from his ashen cheek.

"You won't come back to the pack tonight, right?" Kouga asked.

Mild relief seemed to touch his features as he nodded glumly.

"Gotcha, well, don't kick up a fuss. I'll take ya somewhere else for the night," the wolf demon stepped away, youki swirling around his form, tumbling faster into a fierce gust. Inuyasha watched as a 10ft tall dark-furred wolf eventually lept out of the whirlwind. Kouga then knelt down as best he could, jerking his head to indicate Inuyasha climb on.

"You've got to be kiddin' me?" he grumbled. It didn't take much prompting for him to give in, burned out from nerves and high tension. The new moon always messed everything up.

Grasping onto thick, feathery fur, Inuyasha climbed onto his back, sitting behind Kouga's shoulder blades. The wolf demon flashed him a toothy smile, pushing off starting to run.

Gaping and swaying from the momentum, Inuyasha ducked down and gripped his hackles. Kouga talked a lot of shit, but he got one thing right; he was fucking fast.

Muscles coiled and shifted, prowling through dense undergrowth with quick footfalls. Kouga panted softly, paws thundering over chilled forest floor, scattering leaves.

Inuyasha ducked to avoid a few low-hanging branches, feeling the wolf's sturdiness and warm form beneath him. Despite being in human form with his dulled, dim senses, the silence of the forest combined with Kouga's rhythmic noises made him feel strangely wild yet lulled. He was a creature again, not a man nor demon. It comforted him.

Kouga's breath fanned out in visible puffs of curling smoke by the time they reached an abandoned cave beneath a slightly upturned tree- it's hanging, frozen roots slightly obscuring the entrance. Snowdrops littered the ground- crunching under Inuyasha's feet as he dismounted and quietly entered.

More snowdrops awaited him inside the mouth of the cave, and he sank down exhaustedly into the flowers, cheek cushioned by soft petals.

Kouga huffed, staring down at Inuyasha's near motionless body. Shifting, he settled beside him, acting as a shield against the elements.

Inuyasha's feet were turning blue. Knowing he'd probably be insecure about holding onto him in inhuman form, the wolf shifted closer, bumping against his side.

Making a tired noise, a dark brown eye cracked open. With a sigh- Inuyasha's coarse hands met Kouga's fur, settling closer into the mass of warmth. "This means nothing," came his muffled voice.

Resting his head upon enormous paws, Kouga ignored this, tail thumping slightly behind him.

"Thanks for... coming to get me."

At that, Kouga stiffened with surprise, lifting his head to look at him.

Inuyasha's breaths evened out, and in the quiet hush that followed, it was difficult not to notice how his dark hair seemed to mesh and meld so naturally into the wolf demon's own black fur.

In the morning it would be harder still not to stare at sprawling wisps of long white hair blending into the snowdrops.

Kouga's blue eyes blinked, nose twitching. It was then he realised he was probably in danger of something much larger than either of them could've expected.

----

Predictably, Inuyasha acted as though nothing had happened.

He stuck around the wolves for a few days longer, before finally approaching Kouga, arms thrust inside trailing sleeves.

"So… gonna be headin' out soon."

Kouga continued sharpening his knife. He then stood, rolling one shoulder and keeping his tone casual.

"For good?"

"Yeah," Inuyasha muttered, face guarded. "No point in sticking around here any longer than I need to. Keh, I ain't in the habit of getting in people's way."

Kouga heaved a sigh, putting the knife away and folding his arms, walking from the cave and out into bright sunlight. Rounding one side of the mountain and following a rocky trail, his tail swished with agitation. "You ain't in the way, Dog Breath. I made that pretty clear. You wanna talk about the kiss or not?"

Inuyasha made a noise behind him. He then scrambled for something to say, "we don't gotta talk about it! Weird shit happens when I turn human! Stuff I wouldn't usually do-"

Kouga cut him off with a dramatically loud groan, turning on his heel to face him. Inuyasha jumped, feet skidding to bring him to a stop- rocking forward with momentum and ending up nose to nose with the wolf.

Cobalt blue eyes remained flat, "dunno how Kagome put up with your damn wishy-washy ass. I ain't about to listen to that crap when my nose can sniff out lies unlike her. Since you're so bad at this, I guess I'll be the mature one; and that's how ya know you're being an idiot, stupid mutt."

Inuyasha blinked, opening his mouth with an irate expression.

"I want ya to stay," Kouga said bluntly. "The kiss didn't bother me. In fact, I kinda liked it and I'm open to doing more of that stuff, weird as it sounds saying it out loud. I was into it," he shrugged broad shoulders. "But if you're too busy getting yourself worked up about feeling like an outsider, that's up to you. As pack leader, I'm telling you you've got a place here, dumbass. You can quit being a lone wolf if you want to. My group won't mind."

Inuyasha stared at him, completely stunned. He put a little distance between them, ears pressing flat.

His expression rapidly changed with a multitude of conflicting thoughts. He opened and closed his mouth, eyes flickering to the scenery, to the rocks, to their bare feet. Heavy brows drew down.

Kouga sighed and scratched his pointed ear, figuring he'd be stubborn about it. Not like he could force him to stay. But still… an odd sense of disappointment weighed in his chest. He'd had fun. He'd had a lot of fun with him around.

"I don't do casual," came Inuyasha's reluctant reply.

Kouga's brows rose. Oh. That's what he'd been having reservations about?

"Fuck- I'm bad at this," the hanyou gazed stubbornly at the horizon, cheeks heating. Hands curled into fists at his side.

Blinking, Kouga let out a rasping chuckle, shoulders shaking. It immediately won him Inuyasha's attention. "You really are," he agreed, tone turning into a teasing one. "I didn't know you were that into me."

Growling and bristling, Inuyasha seemed to assume he was laughing at him, so Kouga held up a hand. He then used it to grab hold of the robe of the fire rat, bridging the distance between them.

Inuyasha's breath rushed out of his nose, exhaling sharply. He froze, becoming completely still. Kouga's mouth remained against his in a firm kiss, before shifting into a yielding one, eventually drawing away.

Kouga grinned, "if you wanna get stuck with me, then I'm totally capable of being serious too."

Inuyasha slowly relaxed. He snorted, lips quirking as golden eyes warmed. "Dumbass," he mumbled, tugging him back in again. This time Kouga's ensuing chuckle came out muffled against his lips.

"Heh, you really do have dog breath."

"Do I gotta keep shutting you up?"

Kouga lifted a shoulder, flashing him a wolfish grin, tail thwacking his thigh. "If that's the method you're going with to do it, I guess so."

Inuyasha's gaze flattened, feeling large hands slide around him to rest on his shoulder blades. Oddly comforting. The warmth of a wolf was a strange, foreign thing, but one he could get used to. Kouga had a strong scent. He could feel it saturating his clothes. The robe of the fire-rat would reek for weeks.

And that was okay too.

Their noses bumped, and they huffed with amusement, teeth nipping. They'd be clumsy for a while, but sticking around suddenly didn't sound so heavy. Inuyasha resolved to stay for a few more weeks.

And then maybe he'd linger for a little while after that too.

---

The wolves always howled in their true forms, conveying their love, heartbreak, hunger, stories and other things into their haunting songs. They were beautiful, powerful, twisting, waxing poetic about nothing and everything.

Inuyasha stepped out onto the summit of their mountain that they gathered upon. When he threw back his head and howled suddenly, it startled the others out of their songs.

His voice strained, held back by untrained vocal cords. It wasn't wild enough and held no finesse, too tempered by humanity. Imperfect.

Kouga beamed upon hearing it. He then transformed, black silky fur receding.

Throwing his head back, he let out a loud howl, hair dancing in the breeze. Inuyasha finished and looked at him breathlessly, heart drumming loudly. His throat hurt, cheeks stinging from the cold bite in the air. It felt fucking fantastic.

The rest of the wolf pack demons followed suit, transforming into their mockery of human appearances. Their inhuman forms joined in, baying with hoarse, powerful voices.

If someone had happened upon the pack that night, they'd have found the wolves packed in close, huddling for warmth in their cave. And at the very centre of the pack would be one hanyou, nestled amongst their slumbering, monstrous forms, nose buried into windswept fur, heart in sync with theirs.

---

It would be a few weeks later when Inuyasha would return to Kaede's village. It had been two months since he'd left.

Kouga jogged around him on the trail, sniffing the air and chattering animatedly. He loved travelling. Inuyasha grunted a few replies but was content to listen to him. It kept his mind off inevitably seeing a certain someone again.

That person seemed to spot them almost immediately as they approached the village.

Kagome came rushing over, causing Kouga to grin and call a greeting- his words going completely ignored as the miko drew back her hand.

Inuyasha blinked at the ensuing slap. His cheek stung like hell.

Salt peppered the air then, causing guilt to sink heavy into his gut.

"H-how dare you!" Kagome's watery eyes blazed. "You disappear for months- without a word to anyone?!- and then just swan back here like nothing happened? I searched for you! Do you have any idea how WORRIED I was? You jerk! You're such an absolute JERK!"

Inuyasha slowly stepped closer and brought her into a hug just as she burst into tears.

Kagome thumped her fists weakly against his chest, shuddering and prattling nonsense.

"I just… needed to get away," Inuyasha muttered, ears pressed back tight to his skull. "Didn't feel right being here."

Letting out a rush of hot air, Kagome drew back slightly to look at him. "N-nothing had to change. I told you that," she hiccuped. "Just because I'm in a relationship with someone else- it doesn't affect us. We're still friends. Your place is here. Miroku, Sango and Shippo were worried too."

"They were?"

They'd seemed so busy with their own lives before. Too busy to hang out with him- or maybe he'd been alone in thinking that? Had he put distance between them unknowingly because they'd all changed but he'd stayed the same?

"Idiot," Kagome and Kouga sighed together.

Noticing their wolf companion, Kagome wiped her tears and turned to Kouga. She gave him a much gentler reception, hugging him tight with gratitude.

"So he was with you the whole time? Thank you for looking out for him, Kouga."

"Heh, no worries. It's actually been pretty fun."

Kagome pulled back and rose a brow, glancing between them. "Really? You two haven't been fighting?"

"Sometimes," Inuyasha scratched his nose, combing some claws through his hair. "That hasn't been so bad either, though."

Completely lost, Kagome tilted her head. She then located a hickey on Inuyasha's neck, the skin bruised and red. She reddened herself, meeting Inuyasha's awkward gaze.

"Oh," she put the pieces together slowly. "So… are you just visiting?" she asked quietly.

Inuyasha nodded slowly. "Yeah. I got…" he took a breath, words faltering. He then continued, voice full of conviction. "I got a place to return to now. The wolves ain't a bad bunch to stay with now that my nose has adjusted to their damn smell."

"Hey-" Kouga scoffed.

"I'll keep coming back here though," he continued. "I'm just-"

"It's okay," Kagome soothed. "That makes me really happy to hear. Sometimes new things are good. Different, but good."

It was the same thing she'd said when trying to talk to him about her new relationship. Inuyasha nodded slightly, rendered mute by the heaviness of her words. Change was inevitable. It had freaked him out enough to run from the only real family he'd ever known.

Sadness flitted through her gaze before acceptance gentled matured features. Ageing had changed her too. That was partly why they'd broken up as quickly as they had. They were too different now than how they'd been at 15, swept up in a whirlwind teen romance. There was a sadness in never being able to return to their glory days, but it wasn't necessarily a bad thing to move on.

Kagome scrubbed at her eyes and smiled for him. She always smiled when he needed it most. Grabbing both of their coarse hands, she tugged. "C'mon, everyone will be wanting to catch up. There's also some ramen I saved with your name on it."

Inuyasha's slack fingers twitched in her hold. He then adjusted them, squeezing her hand. Something brazen, fragile and guarded in his heart soothed and healed. His shoulders relaxed. Finally, he felt a sense of peace sweep over him that he hadn't experienced for some time; ever since they'd been flung out of orbit from their romance and back into friendship.

Meeting Kouga's amiable, enthusiastic gaze, Inuyasha bit back a snort. Golden eyes danced, lips twitching- before tilting up. A fang hooked over his bottom lip, snaggle-tooth peering out.

---

End

#Inukog #inuyasha #inukoga #kouga #koga inuyasha

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nataliedanovelist · 4 years

Text

Meet the Pines

When ten-year-old Stanford Pines accidentally stumbles across a time machine, he then finds himself in the middle of a forest and somewhere he finally feels ta home.

For @persimmonpollywog, who inspired me to bring an idea to life.

~~~~~~~~~~

January 1960-something

Stanford held his jacket a little tighter around himself. It was chilly here in the wintry late-afternoon, but it was better being cold on the Stan O’ War than being warm at home. Here, no one called him a wimp. Here, no one saw him as a freak or a loser. Here, he was free to be as upset as he wanted to be. He didn’t want to cry, but if he couldn’t hold it in any longer than at least no one was around to see it.

Yesterday had been a bad day. Crampelter had cornered Stanford after school, while Stanley was busy talking to some girl, and eventually had the ten-year-old pinned to the cold concrete with a knee to his back, pulling his arm back and almost dislocating his shoulder until Stanley came and shoved the bully off his brother. All of the boxing lessons were starting to pay off as Stanley walked away with less scrapes and bruises than normal, but he still had to serve after-school detention today. The twins tried to hide their injuries on the way to the bathroom, but Ma saw them and knelt to look them over. Before Stanley and Stanford could convince their mother they were okay, Pa showed up and snapped, demanding if the boys had lost another fight and when they were going to quit getting their butts handed to them. Ma then stood and shouted at Pa and the two screamed at each other for what felt like forever while they fixed each other up with their first aid kit and spent the rest of the night in their room to avoid the fighting. No kid likes hearing their parents yell.

Stanford’s shoulder didn’t hurt as much anymore and the bruise on his back was still big and purple and black, but at least he could hide it. As much as Stanford tried to ignore it, even reading a book he normally would have enjoyed, the voices in his head kept on shouting at him.

“Dorks and losers!”

“FREAK!”

“When are you gonna stand up for yourself like a man?!”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!”

“Watch it, Six-Finger’s got the plague!”

“You’ll NEVER make any friends!”

Stanford closed his book, shut his eyes, took off his glasses, and scrubbed at his eyes with a fist and pinched the bridge of his button nose to try to compose himself. Stanford then used his blurry vision to look down at his birth defect. His vision became even worse when more tears formed, eventually making the boy buried his head in his arms and he quietly cried. Crampelter was right. Stanford was never going to make any friends. No one would ever want him around.

Okay, maybe Stanley did, but he wasn’t here right now, and how long it would be until Stanley decided he was tired of being made fun of? Stanford truly believed that Stanley was cool enough to make it on his own. He’d bet his chemistry set that if Stanley had never defended Stanford, never been his brother, he wouldn’t be made fun of as much as he was now. Sure, Stanley Pines messed up a bunch, but he was funny and smart in a way you can’t teach to somebody and girls seemed to like him. What was stopping him from getting any gal he wanted and being an all star boxer or a superhero? His freak of a twin. The mistake.

These thoughts plagued and poisoned Stanford, who let them flow and then leave him. While he didn’t disbelieve these bad thoughts anymore, they were no longer screaming at him, so he had the strength to go home. Maybe he’d feel better in his warm bed instead of the cold unfinished ship.

Stanford stood and smiled hopefully at the Stan O’ War. Last summer, right after the boys had turned ten, they had found the shipwreck sailboat in a cave and took it as their anchor for a better future.

“One of these days, you and me are gonna sail away from this dumb town. We’ll hunt for treasure, get all the girls, and be an unstoppable team of adventurers.”

Stanford carried that message with him nearly every day, and he doubted the day would come when he stopped. He picked up his backpack and started on the walk for home. The wind howled, making Stanford shiver, and he picked up the pace. He wished summer would get here, he didn’t like the cold. Something on the sidewalk in town nearly made Stanford trip, but he caught himself in time and turned to see what it was.

The boy raised an eyebrow to find a tape measure. It was black and yellow and had two weird triangles on it. “Huh. I don’t recognize that company.” He muttered to himself as he picked up the measurer. He pulled on the tape, as children will with these types of tape measures, and he realized too late that it didn’t read inches and centimetres; it read years, but Stanford had already released the tape and then he was gone with a flash.

~~~~~~~~~~

May 2016

After the flash was gone, one of the first things Stanford noticed was that he was warm. Really warm. And something was crackling behind him and smelled like burning fabric. Stanford threw off his backpack and stomped on it until the little fire went out. Once that panic was gone, new panic came as he realized he was in the middle of some woods. He had never been in the forest before, except for the little patches by the ravine, but the ravine was dangerous and only for stupid teenagers, so Stanford didn’t go there if he could help it.

Once he knew he was safe, he looked down at the tape measure. “What the heck is this thing?” He asked himself as he cautiously pulled out the tape. It read measurements of time instead of measurements of space. He slowly let the tape back in the machine and put it in his jacket’s pocket, deciding it would be best to try to figure this weird tape measure out later. More importantly, when was he?

Stanford looked around the fellow pines he was surrounded by and he smiled at the peaceful smell. It reminded him of the holidays and when Christmas trees would be up for sale at the park. Stanford understood his family didn’t celebrate Christmas, and he was fine with instead celebrating a holiday that lasted seven days, but he wished just once they would bring a pinetree into their house just to make all the rooms smell nice. Stanford could hear birds, for once not choking on glass or honking. They either tweeted or knocked on wood. Here, in the quiet and in the warmth, Stanford felt much better than he did five minutes ago, despite being in a strange setting and far away from home.

Stanford thought he could hear the vague sound of a car, and so the boy hurriedly followed him to it. Where there was a vehicle there was probably a town. Stanford saw a dirt road and watched as a car drove one way. He could follow it, but when he looked toward where the car had come from, he could have sworn he saw a wooden structure of some sort through the trees. Stanford emerged from the woods and walked alongside the road.

“Okay, the tape measure had been set to forward.” Stanford thought out-loud to himself to try to think clearly. “And if there’s cars, I’m definitely in the future, but how far? I didn’t see how many years ahead it sent me. Maybe I’ll finally meet a robot!”

As Stanford walked along the old road, it became clear to him that either he hadn’t time traveled that far into the future or he was somewhere considered “old” by this time’s standards. Stanford awed happily at an old cabin with a triangular roof with a big sign that read “Mystery Shack”, but the S was on the grass. There was a goat munching on a tin can and it looked at Stanford with it’s weird yellow eyes, but Stanford grinned at the goat and carried on his way.

“What is this place?” He asked himself. “Some kind of haunted house?” The word “Mystery” was enough to lure him towards the building and he saw a door with a sign that read “gift shop,” so Stanford decided to check that place out first.

A bell greeted him and Stanford smiled at the little shop. A pretty lady with a hat and a green question-mark t-shirt was at the cash register, helping an old lady buy a keychain with a spaceship on it. Stanford grinned as more and more things were his taste. There were baseball caps with pinetrees, question marks everywhere, some kind of Aztec wheel in the back, a monkey-fish - no! A Mer-key! - in a tank, and newspapers and magazines full of supernatural evidence. Stanford grinned and took a newspaper with a UFO on the front and opened it.

Before Stanford was too sucked into the story of the alien-sighting in Wyoming, he could hear the lady at the cash register groan and say to the old woman, “I’m sorry, ma’am, this drawer is always getting stuck. Here, let’s see if my husband has any change for you.” And they walked through a door with red curtains.

Stanford looked at the register. It looks pretty close to the one at Pa’s shop. Curious, Stanford sat the paper down and went over to the drawer. There was a toolbox open by the vending machine, so he borrowed a red screwdriver and pulled a flashlight out from his jacket and got to work to try to fix the cash register.

He found the clip that wasn’t releasing and managed to temporarily open the drawer, but the issue was, for the time being, you needed the screwdriver every time you wanted to open the drawer, so Stanford unscrewed some screws to look at the drawer’s workings and he patiently fixed the clip so it was hooked the way it should be. Stanford smiled proudly at himself, happy to help that lady, and he put the drawer back together and closed it with a little ding.

“Whatcha doin’, dawg?”

Stanford jumped a foot in the air and looked up to find the lady back with a big man beside her, the big man standing in Stanford’s way of leaving the counter. He was a chubby guy and reminded Ford of a gopher. He had a red fez with a golden crescent (kinda like Pa’s if Stanford was being honest) and he wore a suit and an eyepatch.

Stanford was shaking as he realized how bad it looked to have some kid standing by the cash; if this was Pa’s store he would have called the police. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I just wanted to fix your drawer, I’m sorry!” Stanford yelped and sat the screwdriver down on the counter and shoved his hands in his pockets; he didn’t want this big man to think he was stealing anything, cash or tools.

“Whoa, whoa,” The big guy said and with his hands up to stop him. He was smiling nicely at Stanford and he slowly began to calm down. “It’s okay, dude, I get it. You’re not in trouble. Now let’s see if you fixed this old girl.”

The big guy reached over to the register and pressed a button. The drawer slid open gracefully, making the lady and the big guy grin. “Wow. I’ve never seen that thing work so well.” The lady said.

“Me neither, and I’ve been here for fifteen years!” The big guy patted Stanford’s shoulder. “You did a good job, dude. I’m impressed.”

Stanford’s face suddenly felt really hot, like the kind of hot it gets when someone points out his six fingers, but his gut wasn’t squirming around in the usual bad way. And Stanford found it hard not to smile. “Th-Thank you.”

“Thank you,” The big guy said with a grin. “What do I owe you for a job well done?”

Stanford stared at the big guy, wondering if he was joking, but the big guy and the lady just smiled at him and suddenly he noticed how empty his stomach felt. “Can I have a snack?” And he pointed to the vending machine.

The big guy grinned and nodded. “Sure, dude! Hungry?” Right on cue, Stanford’s stomach growled. He held his jacket tighter around himself and blushed, but the big guy and lady just chucked.

“No wonder, it’s almost lunchtime.” The lady pointed out as her watch told her it was almost one.

“Well, hey, Abuelita would love some more mouths to feed.” The big guy said and asked Stanford, “Why don’t you ask your folks if you can join us for lunch?”

“My parents aren’t here.” Stanford said, unable to believe what was happening in front of him. “It’s just me.”

“Oh. Well, wanna stay for lunch?” The big guy offered nicely. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but we’d love to have you…”

“Yes, please!” Stanford answered happily. “Sounds like fun!”

“Sweet!” The big guy dipped his fez to the boy and said, “Mr. Mystery at your service, little dude! But you can call me Soos! This here my wife, Melody. Want a tour of the Mystery Shack before lunch?”

“Sure!” Stanford even pulled out his notepad and pencil from his jacket and held it ready for note taking.

Soos laughed, grabbed an eight-ball cane, and led the way through the doorway with red curtains. Stanford was amazed to find a little museum full of odd stuff! Left and right there were strange anomalies and attractions that were just the coolest! Stanford had only seen stuff like this in his dreams, and now it was all here in front of him.

Soos cleared his throat and declared, “Dear gentleman! Looking around my Mystery Shack, you’ll see many wondrous befuddlement, unlike anything you have ever seen before! Feast your eyes, on the dangerously adorable Unicat!” And he gestured to a fluffy orange tabby with a unicorn’s corn tied to it’s head. The kitty was sleeping on a fluffy cat’s bed and Stanford grinned and began to sketch it.

“Now beware, tourist, not only could this guy make you sneeze, Mr. Wiggles is so adorable he can literally bend you to his will.” Mr. Mystery warned with wiggling fingers. “One minute he’s purring in your hand and the next he’s biting your hand, but don’t worry, just give him a treat and he’ll be putty in your hands, dawg.” Soos pulled out a bag from his suit and asked, “Wanna give the Unicat a treat?”

Stanford grinned and happily let Soos shake a treat onto his palm. Mr. Wiggles woke up and sat patiently on the bed. Stanford gave it to him and scratched Mr. Wiggles under his chin while the kitty munch on his treat and purred. Then he was ready for his nap again.

“Up next, I give you a rare picture of a horse riding another horse!”

The whole thirty-minute tour Soos amazed Stanford with the Rock That Looks Like a Face, London Bridge made out of popsicle sticks, other strange photos and articles framed on the walls, and finally the good ole Sascrotch. Stanford attentively asked questions and Soos happily answered all of them.

This little guy was reminding Soos of a younger version of himself more and more. He was helpful and nice and kinda shy and quiet, but Soos could tell this dude was special. Soos wondered if Mr. Pines felt this way about him when he first came to the Mystery Shack.

Melody eventually called Soos and Stanford in for lunch and Stanford let Soos put a hand on his shoulder and led him through the “Employees Only” door. Stanford was surprised to find what appeared to be a house. Not that he was too surprised, Stanford’s family lived above their shop, but still. It looked like a really nice place to live. He had always wanted to live in a cabin! “Wow, you have a really nice house.”

“Thanks, dawg.” Soos patted his shoulder and pointed towards the kitchen. “Mm. Smells like Abuelita made tamales!”

Melody was fixing glasses of water while Abuelita stirred a pot. Stanford smiled at the old lady in an apron with soft old-lady skin. She smiled and shuffled over to the boy. “Aye! ¡Qué niño tan dulce! Hola, niño! Look at you! So thin! You must be hungry.” She cooed and made Stanford sit at the table so she could pile his plate high with rice, beans, and tamales. “Here, eat up.”

Stanford didn’t know much Spanish, but he did know one phrase. “Muchas gracias, señora!”

Ma was a great cook, but she didn’t look much Mexican. There was a taco place that was okay, but this was real Mexican food and it tasted so good! Stanford, who hadn’t eaten since lunch, was starving and happily cleaned his plate while he listened to Melody and Soos talk about work and their plan for the day. They occasionally asked Stanford something and let him talk, but Stanford was happy to quietly eat and the grown-ups respected that.

“Oh, you’re a twig, niño,” Abuelita commented as she carried the plate full of tamales over to him and gave him another. “Here, have some more.”

“No, gracias.” Stanford said politely, making sure to say thank you.

“I asked if you would like more tamales.” Abuelita said with a bit of a scary voice and a stern look. One glance at Soos and Stanford saw him smile and nod his head, advising to accept the food.

“Uh… si?”

“That’s what I thought you said.” Abuelita said happily and gladly piled four more tamales on poor Stanford’s plate.

A few minutes later, a door opened in the distance and a voice called teasingly, “‘Sup, Mr. Ramierez!”

“In the kitchen, Wendy!” Soos called back.

“Aw man, Dipper and Mabel not here yet?”

“No, bus doesn’t get here for a few more hours.”

“Dang it.”

Stanford looked at the doorway and his jaw dropped. A very pretty red-headed girl with freckles, a blue flannel, and one of those pinetree hats, stood with jeans and hiking boots. Stanford was kinda reminded of Stanley; they both gave off an atmosphere of confidence and bigger-than-what-you-expect attitude. Wendy looked at the new guy and smiled. “Great, did you two kidnap some kid?”

Soos laughed and ruffled his fluffy brown hair. “Nope! This little dude helped fix the cash register.”

“Oh, new handyman, huh?” Wendy asked as she stole a tamale off his plate and leaned against his chair.

“Well,” Soos shrugged and smiled at Stanford. “If he wants the job, sure.”

“Wait, really?” Stanford asked. “You want me as a handyman?”

“Sure! Why not? You know how to fix a golf cart?”

“Well, I don’t know if I…”

“Boom!” Soos threw a random question-mark staff t-shirt at his face and announced happily, “You’re hired! One size fits all, dawg! The golf cart’s okay for the most part, but it’s not quite charging right. Think you can look at the battery or the charger?”

“Oh,” Stanford was having a hard time taking this in. First these guys actually liked him, and now they wanted him to stay and work?! He grinned from ear-to-ear with shiny brown eyes, hopped off his chair, slipped off his jacket, and changed shirts as quickly as possible so he could put his jacket back on over his staff t-shirt. “Okay!”

“What’s your name, anyway?” Wendy asked as he patted his hard enough on the back that he went “oof.”

Stanford opened his mouth, but hesitated. If he was going to stay here, some time-cops might come looking for him. Or he might mess up the time-space continuum more than he has. But what if it was always supposed to be this way? What if Stanford Pines went missing and was never found again? What if somewhere there was an unsolved report of a missing boy that no one missed? What if Stanford had found that tape measure for a reason? Deciding to play it safe and making up his mind to start over and stay, Stanford quickly answered with, “Phil.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The golf cart was easy to find. Stanford popped the hood and saw the battery. It was a bit too advanced, not because of the technology, but because Stanford is only ten and had never fiddled with a car battery before, but he knew enough about batteries as a whole to teach himself what to do. It turned out the goat had chewed on the cord so sometimes the battery would receive charge, sometimes it wouldn’t, so all Stanford had to do was fix it with special black tape.

After that, Stanford went inside to see if anything needed to be fixed or to ask Soos what he wanted him to do, when he caught a glimpse of someone climbing up a ladder. Curious, Stanford climbed up and opened a little door to find Wendy up on the roof and sitting in a lawn chair.

“Whoa, what is this place?” He asked.

Wendy smiled with a soda in her hand and said, “Just my hang-out. Great place to come to hide from work. Wanna a soda, bud?”

“Sure, thanks.” Stanford smiled to see that familiar Pitt soda now in a can. Really weird, considering he was used to bottles, but he knew how to open a can and found he didn’t mind the change in containers for his drink.

“So, Phil,” Wendy said casually. “If you could go anywhere in the world, where and why?”

Stanford sat on the roof with his feet dangling off the edge. “I don’t know. I want to travel the world. I want to see it all.”

“An adventurer, I like your moxie, kid.” Wendy said. “Gravity Falls is alright, but I wanna go see a big city, like New York or even just San Francisco.”

“I’ve been to New York.” Stanford shared. It was true; the Big Apple was only an hour drive (two if there was bad traffic) from Glass Shard. “I wouldn’t want to live there, but it’s a nice place to visit. Lots of museums and historical records…”

Wendy laughed and shook her head. “You’d like my friend Dipper. He’s a nerd, too.”

Stanford’s cheeks turned red, happy that this pretty girl seemed to like him. Not that he ever had a chance with her! She was eighteen and he was ten. “Who’s Dipper?”

“My best friend.” Wendy said proudly. “He might be a nerd, but he’s also, like, the coolest guy I’ve ever met. A good friend, too. Hey, you’ll actually get to meet him today! He and his sister Mabel are coming to spend the summer and they’re supposed to get here some point today.”

“Cool! I’m excited to meet them. I don’t have any friends back home.” Stanford let slip.

“Well, you’ve got some now.” Wendy reassured the kid and lightly punched his shoulder.

Stanford punched back as he laughed and he then asked, “So, what’s your favorite type of snack food?”

“Oh man, I can’t just pick one. Popcorn’s a big one. Really, anything salty. You?”

“Does jelly beans count or is that a candy?”

“Naw, man, that’s a snack food.”

“Jelly beans it is, then!”

“Phil! The portable toilets are clogged!” Soos called from inside the shack.

Stanford took a minute to register who his new boss was talking to and then sighed and stood up. “Back to work.”

“Later, dork.” Wendy said with a wink and Stanford climbed down with a dorky smile.

The red head sighed happily as a breeze drifted by, free from having to make-up an excuse as to why she can’t attend to the bathrooms, and she sipped her soda and watched the sun slowly sink. A little while after Phil left, Wendy heard the familiar roar of a bus and saw it pull up to the tourist trap, but instead of a small group of tourists spilling out, two teenagers walked out with their arms full of luggage and a pig at their feet.

“YES!” Wendy stomped her boots on the roof and yelled, “THEY’RE HERE! DIPPER! MABEL!” Using her trusty pinetrees, Wendy climbed down and ran to her favorite pair of twins and hugged them. “I’ve missed you, you weirdos!”

“Aw, Wendy!” Mabel cooed.

“We’ve missed you, too.” Dipper assured her and the hug ended so they could look at each other properly.

Dipper had hit a growth spurt since last summer and was now an inch or two taller than Mabel. He wore an opened blue flannel over his orange t-shirt with his jeans and Wendy’s borrowed hat. As tradition, Wendy swapped Dipper’s pinetree hat for her fur cap back and they high-fived when Dipper fixed his cap so it didn’t cover his eyes. Mabel still wore her sweaters and skirts, but now her hair was only shoulder-length and her braces were long-gone. Today she wore her yellow “Hug Me” sweater with a pink skirt and headband to match.

“Wow, you guys look great!” Wendy complimented. She noticed Waddles making his way to Gompers and them falling asleep on the porch with the goat.

“Thanks,” Dipper said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Can you believe we’re the same age as you when we met?”

“I know, right?! It’s so weird!”

“DUDES!” Mabel and Dipper braced themselves as a heavy man swept them up into his arms and squeezed so hard their faces turned blue. “I missed you two so much! I’ve got a bunch of new attractions to show you and fun stuff to do this summer! This’ll be the best one yet!”

“Soos, can’t breathe.” Dipper wheezed.

“Who cares?” Mabel said hoarsely. “Anything for a Soos-hug.”

Soos finally managed to let them go and he grabbed their suitcases for them. “Here, let me help you dawgs get settled in your room. You’re still cool with sharing with your grunkles, right?”

“Always are.” Mabel reassured him. With Melody and Soos in Ford’s old room and Abuelita in Stan’s old room, that only left the attic for guests, so every summer when the Pines family came home they had to share, but with two pairs of bunk beds and plants of woods for some alone time during the day, it was comfortable enough for the summer. Besides, it was a good way to make up for lost time during the fall, winter, and spring.

As Soos, Wendy, Dipper and Mabel went into the house by the back door, Mr. Mystery called out, “Hey, Phil! C’mere, there’s some dudes I want you to meet!”

“Who’s Phil?” Dipper asked.

“My new handyman!” Soos said proudly as he sat the suitcases on the stairs for a few minutes. “Really smart dude, fixed the cash register and the golf cart already!”

“Aw, you have your own wittle Soos!” Mabel exclaimed with rosy cheeks and bright eyes. “Well I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Yeah, he’s kind of a nerd like you, Dip-Dip.” Wendy added as she elbowed him.

“Well how long has he been working here?” Dipper asked.

“Just today.” Soos answered. “I really like him. I think he’ll end up being a member of the family soon enough.”

“Sorry, Mr. Mystery,” A voice called from outside. “I only got one toilet unclogged, but I’ll clean the others!”

“It’s okay, dawg,” Soos hollered back.

The door opened and the ten-year-old looked around. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

Dipper and Mabel dumbfounded. It was like seeing a cartoon character come to life. That little sunburnt boy in all those childhood photos Ma Pines and their grunkles had shown them was now right here in front of them in a Mystery Shack staff t-shirt and brown jacket, smiling at the little gang. He cocked his head and looked curiously at the teenagers, who were looking at him like he had lobsters crawling out of his ears. Embarrassed, Stanford’s face turned red and he hid his hands behind his back.

“Yeah, Phil, this here is Dipper and Mabel!” Soos introduced, writing off the twins’ reaction as shocked by the boy’s cuteness and Phil’s quietness as shyness from meeting new people. “Dudes, this here Phil! If you need something that needs fixin’, just go to this guy right here.” And Soos ruffled his hair playfully, making Stanford feel better and smile with his blush still intact.

“Uh… nice to meet you.” Dipper muttered.

“OH MY GOSH!” Mabel ran up to Stanford and scooped him up into a hug. “You’re SO CUTE! Who’s a wittle guy, who’s a wittle guy?! Is it you, is it you?” She cooed and hugged him tightly and combed his hair with her fingers.

“Whoa, hey!” Stanford squirmed a little bit but slowly stopped fighting. He had never been swallowed with so much hugs before and kinda liked it. “N-Nice to meet you. I like you. You’re weird.”

“Great,” Dipper said slowly and moved towards his sister to grab her arm. “So why don’t we get to know Phil somewhere else.” And he dragged them off somewhere else.

Wendy looked at Soos curiously and asked, “What was that all about?”

Soos shrugged and picked up the suitcases to take them upstairs. “Teens are crazy.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Stanford was engulfed in darkness until a bright light was turned on by a pull of a metal string. The boy blinked his eyes to adjust to the light and found he was in some sort of small, dark, cramped space with the two teenagers in front of him, side by side. The girl, Mabel, was grinning really big, but the boy, Dipper, had his arms crossed over his chest and looked both stern and worried. They both somewhat looked familiar to Stanford, but he couldn’t figure out why.

“Alright, what are you doing?!” Dipper hissed at Stanford. “How did you even get here? And where’s the time machine?!”

The idea of playing dumb wasn’t going to work, Stanford realized, as he paled a sheet and swallowed nervously. “You… You know I’m from the past?”

“Yes, we do, Stanford Pines.” Dipper said firmly, making Stanford shiver.

Mabel noticed this and thought her brother was being too harsh, so she slipped in, “But we’re really happy to see you, Ford!”

“But what you’re doing is really dangerous.” Dipper warned in a calmer tone. “By missing in the past you’re jeopardizing the future.”

“You don’t understand.” Stanford insisted. “No one back home will miss me. I’m a nobody in the past, but here people actually like me. Why can’t I stay?”

“Now wait a minute,” Mabel said gently and put a hand on one of his shoulders. “You really think Stan won’t miss you?”

Stanford froze at that. The idea of Stanley all alone made his chest ache, but he shook his head and looked away from the teenagers before him. “He’s better off without me.” He mumbled.

“No he’s not.”

“Yes…”

“No, he’s not.” Dipper insisted and sat on a box to be eye-level with Stanford. “Listen to me, I don’t know if you noticed this or not, kid, but we’re twins, too. We understand more than you think we do. Sometimes you think you’re not good enough and sometimes you think it’ll be better for both of you if you went your separate ways, but… but family sticks together, no matter what. It doesn’t matter if it’s a twin or a parent or just a really good friend, one day you’re gonna realize how much you need your family and I really really hope for you it’s not before it’s too late.”

Stanford, frustrated that he didn’t have a good comeback, decided to turn the tables. “Now, wait a minute, how did you even know I was from the past? And how did you know about Stanley?”

Dipper and Mabel exchanged uneasy facial expressions and Mabel then said to Stanford, “Look, Ford, please. You have to trust us. I know things are hard for you right now, but things will get better…”

Stanford scowled at that. They weren’t listening! They just didn’t understand! “You don’t know that! You don’t know what I’ve been through! I’m a nobody in the past, I’m a freak in the past!” And he even held a hand out to their faces so they could see his six fingers. With tears in his eyes, the boy yelled, “This is the one place I feel at home, and I won’t let you take that away from me!” And with that, Stanford pulled the time machine out of his pocket, threw it on the floor, and smashed it with his sneakered foot.

“Stanford!” Mabel scolded.

“What did you do?!” Dipper yelled as he got on his knees and began to scoop up the broken pieces.

Stanford spun around, opened the closet, and left without another word.

“We should’ve told him we were family.” Mabel said quietly.

“No,” Dipper snapped as he stood up and exited the closest with his sister. “If he found out it could mess up our present. We need to try to get him to go back to Glass Shard.”

“All while keeping it a secret that we’re Pines, too, and also keeping it a secret that Phil is baby Ford?” Mabel clarified and rubbed her forehead. “And you do realize we’ve got until tonight when Grunkle Stan and Ford come home and will definitely recognize him?”

“I know.” Dipper sighed. “I’ll work on fixing the time machine. You’re better with people, you try to convince Ford to go back to his own time.”

“You got it, Dippin’ Sauce.” Mabel said and went off to try to find her wittle uncle.

Stanford was true to his word and went straight to finish unclogging the toilets, so that kept Mabel away from the most part and she got distracted catching up with Wendy. As the sun got lower into the sky, Dipper sat on his bottom bunk and fixed the time machine, meanwhile Mabel had to try to earn Stanford’s trust, but the little guy was doing a good job of avoiding her.

Time was running out, and after Stanford raked the yard, cleaned the gutters, washed Soos’ truck, and a bunch of probably unnecessary chores just to keep him busy, Soos proudly patted Stanford’s back and said, “Good job, little dude! You can go home now.”

“Oh,” Stanford rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. “Uh, are you sure there’s nothing else I can do, sir. M-Maybe I can sweep or…”

Soos raised an eyebrow, picking up how sweaty and nervous the kid was about going home, and he smiled gently. “Hey, I get it. I’m not kicking you out or anything. If you wanna stay, stay as long as you want. Heck, you can spend the night if you want to. The couch is always here.”

Stanford smiled up at his new boss. “Thank you so much, Mr. Mystery.”

“Hey, you can just call me Soos.” He offered. “And if you need to talk, I’m here for you, dude.”

Stanford nodded. “Okay.”

Mabel pulled out all the stops. She laid a bunch of arts n’ crafts stuff laid out on the card table and she stopped Stanford as he passed the living room. “Hey, S-Phil! Wanna make some puppets with me?”

“Oh boy, you’re not hungover some puppet-boy again, are you?” Wendy asked as she entered the room, oblivious to Stanford’s scowl.

“Haha! Nope!” Mabel said as Wendy sat with her. “Just felt like setting the arts n’ crafts master free tonight! Whaddya say, Phil? Wanna get in on this? We could make hand-turkeys, or finger-puppets, or paint our nails?”

“No, thanks.” The boy said coldly.

“Aw, come on.” Wendy teased and laid her hands out on the table. “Here, Mabel, I’ve been meaning to do my nails, mind fixing me up?”

“You bet, sister!”

Stanford stomped off angrily, but Mabel somehow managed to stay focused and she left Wendy, confused and alone at the table, so she could go after him. “St… Phil, wait! Let’s just talk.”

“Talk about what?” Stanford snapped and turned back to look at her angrily. “You’re trying to get rid of me! Why would you wanna talk to me if you don’t like me?”

Mabel gasped and covered her mouth. Stanford was so confused, having no idea why she suddenly looked so sad and hurt, and she sunk to her knees and put a hand on each of his shoulders. “That’s not true, Ford.” She whispered quietly. “Not only do I like you, but I love you. We all do. Which is why you have to go back to the past.”

Stanford blinked with surprise at finding Mabel looking so sad. It hurt more than he thought it would. And there it was again, that feeling like they had met before. She just looked so familiar… “But I don’t wanna go back.” Ford tried to explain yet again. “Why should I go back?”

“Cuz if you don’t the entire timeline could change.” Mabel stressed as calmly as she could, but she was failing, her arms trembling. “I can’t tell you too much, but… but by being here instead of your own time, you’re not doing things that’ll shape today. You have no idea what could happen, none of us do, but that’s what’s so scary.”

“Oh, come on, what could I do that’s so important it messes with time?” Stanford dared to ask.

Mabel opened her mouth and closed a few times, like a fish out of water, but with no explanation, Stanford shrugged her hands off of him and turned to the door. He tried to slam it to make it clear to Mabel he wanted to be alone, but in his fury he had stupidly closed the door with his right hand still on it, crushing his fingers.

“OW!”

It was a painful door jam, the kind that made your eyes water and made you wonder for a second if your hand was broken. Stanford held his hand by the wrist as his hand immediately swelled and looked red. Mabel covered her mouth again and got on one knee in front of him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Let me see…”

“Whao, what happened?” Soos asked as he and Melody emerged from the kitchen and Wendy came out of the living room.

“S-Phil closed the door on his hand.” Mabel said as Stanford held his hand close to his chest and hid it with his uninjured hand.

“Aw, poor dude.” Soos went up to him and held out a sweet hand. “Here, lemme see it.”

“N-No!” Stanford stuttered. And took a step back, now being on the porch with everyone else inside. “It’s fine, I’m okay.”

“Don’t be afraid, Phil, just lemme take a look at it.” Soos said as he fixed his eyes, trying to see past the uninjured hand at the hurt hand, but then his eyes widened. No, he must have miss counted. No, he didn’t have… “Phil, lemme see.” He said firmly.

“No!” But Stanford was too slow and Soos had grabbed his hands as gently as he could and held the hurt hand, not only to check if it was broken, but to count his fingers. Suddenly a lot of things were clicking in Soos’ head and he felt like a big dummy dumb for not noticing who this little dude was sooner.

Soos, Melody, and Wendy gasped, making Stanford’s eyes sting. He blinked to make the stinging go away; he should be used to that kind of reaction. He yanked his hand out of Soos’ grasp and shoved both hands in his pockets.

“Dude!” Soos gasped, looking horrified. “Wh-Why didn’t you tell me?! I can’t believe…”

“Who cares?” Stanford asked, not looking at any of them. “It’s just a stupid birth defect.”

“No, I mean why didn’t you tell me you were Stanford Pines?!”

That got him to look up, terrified, and he saw the three shocked faces and the sad one Mabel wore. “But… But…”

“Sweet Paul Bunyan.” Wendy gasped. “It’s really him…”

“I thought you seemed familiar, but I just thought you were a lot like me!” Soos yelled in shock as he held his head. “But it turns out you were a lot like Dr. Pines?! MY MIND! It’S EXPLODED!”

It was slowly sinking in that these guys didn’t care that he had polydactyly; they cared that he was from the past, and apparently his older-self knew everyone here. Was that why Mabel and Dipper freaked out so much? “Wait, you… do you know me?”

Soos stared at Stanford in complete shock. “Of course we know you, dude! You’re…”

“Our friend!” Mabel interrupted. “A really good friend!”

“Yeah, man.” Wendy backed up. “Look, you’re a really great kid, but…”

“But you need to go back home.” Melody finished for her.

Stanford’s whole world was shaking. “Wh-What?! But you…”

“I know,” Soos said and got on one knee to be closer to his eye-level. “But… Dr… F-F-Ford, you’re… you’re a great kid, and we’d never do anything to hurt you, but you have to go back.”

The poor boy’s chest was suddenly feeling really heavy. His eyes were stinging again. He scowled angrily. He desperately didn’t want to go back home, but what was the point of staying here if no one wanted him around? “I thought you guys were my friends.” He croaked, unable to keep his emotions out of his voice.

“Stanford,” Mabel took a step forward, desperately wanting to hug him but she was treating him like a scared animal who would run off at the sight of too much movement. “We are your friends, but you have to trust us…”

Stanford squeezed his eyes shut and darted around for the woods, planning to just run and run until no one could find him, but something he didn’t see stood in his way and made Stanford fall flat on the grass, barely a foot away from the porch. Mabel, Wendy, Melody and Soos all hurried onto the porch and simultaneously gasped. Dipper came out with the fixed tape measure in hand and announced proudly, “Okay, I’ve fixed the time machine and - what the HECK is going on here?!”

Stanford had bumped into whatever he had hit so hard his glasses were skewed, but when he fixed them he marveled at who stood before him. A tall guy with a round gut, a brown coat over a t-shirt and worn jeans with boots, and a red beanie looked down at him. His gray hair passed his shoulders by an inch and he looked so much like Pa, but the sparkle in his brown eyes and the way he looked completely confused but took everything with a grain of salt was something Stanford could recognize anywhere. He didn’t even question it.

He hadn’t realized how much he had missed his twin until he was standing right in front of him. Who cares if he was old? With a trembling lip and wet matching eyes, Stanford lunged into Stan’s legs and hugged him tightly, burying his face in his jeans, the top of his head just barely reaching his hip.

“Whoa there,” Stan’s gravelly voice was strange to Stanford, but his strong hands still hugged him in return and rubbed circles into his back. “It’s alright there, Sixer. You’re okay. You care to explain what’s going on here, Poindexter?”

It sounded like Stan was no longer talking to Stanford. He wiped his button nose and eyes and barely let Stan go, just enough to look up at someone who was standing next to Stan. Stanford almost screamed, but he bit his lip in time. He didn’t need to look at this man’s hand to know who he was. He had Stanford’s fluffy hair, though gray with a light streak around it, he had Stanford’s cleft chin, and while this man also looked like Pa, there was only one person who could resemble Stan that much.

“Incredible,” Ford awed and pulled out a green journal from his blue coat and opened it. Like Stan, he also wore blue jeans and boots, but he had a red turtleneck under his blue coat from the looks of it. “I thought I had another year or two…”

“Did you clone yourself, you weirdo?” Stan asked.

“What, no! Of course not!” Ford laughed.

“Oh, this is that shapeshifter dude you were telling me about.”

“No, Stanley, it’s really me.” Ford knelt as he looked at Stanford, who still clung onto Stan’s leg tightly like it was a life preserver in the middle of an ocean. “Over fifty years ago I came across a tape measure while you were serving detention that transported me from Glass Shard to this place. Is that what happened to you?” He asked his younger self.

Stanford nodded. Ford smiled at him kindly and Stanford managed to smile back. He looked up at Stan and squeaked as timid as a mouse, “Is… Is that really you, Stanley?”

Stan chuckled and patted his shoulder. Did his brother always used to be so cute? “Yeah, kid, it’s me. Holy Moses, would you look at this little guy. You look just as I remember you, Stanford. Except not nearly as puny.”

“Hey, I’m not that small!” Stanford defended.

“Yup, that’s the stubborn brainiac I know!” Stan laughed.

Stanford smiled at him and then got an idea. Stanley would always have his back! He’ll help him! “Stanley, they’re gonna make me go away! Tell them I don’t have to go!”

“Make you go away?” Stan repeated and then looked up at the crowd and saw the time machine in Dipper’s hand. “Oh, don’t wanna go back to New Jersey, huh?”

“But G…” But Wendy covered Mabel’s hand before she could say anything else.

Stanford ignored the meanies behind him and gave Stan the saddest puppy-dog eyes he could muster. He could practically see his brother crumble. “I mean, I could never tell you no, Sixer…”

“Stanley,” Ford said as he put a hand on his shoulder. “I would like to speak to myself in private.”

Stanford didn’t know how to feel about that. His little fingers tightened ever so slightly on Stan’s jeans.

“Oh, sure.” Stan then snorted and added, “If you can let go of my leg.”

Ford chuckled and held out a hand to his younger self. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

Stanford still wasn’t sure. He looked into those deep brown eyes that matched his own, the same brown eyes he saw when he looked in the mirror. Or looked at his brother. Or his mother. Or Dipper or Mabel. Stanford glanced back at the other pair of twins, having a hunch, but he knew that there was only one person that was going to tell him what he needed to hear and wanted to hear in a certain way, so Stanford slowly let his brother go and took his own polydactyl hand.

Ford smiled and walked with the ten-year-old into the house alone. Stanford looked up at his older self and smiled. Ford caught this and chuckled. “Do I look as you had hoped?” He asked.

Stanford felt his cheeks get warm again, but he ignored it to talk to himself. Who else gets a chance to talk to themselves like this? “Did you get better at boxing?”

Ford laughed, knowing why Stanford asked that; the child was clearly happy he would grow up to be somewhat fit. “I did, actually. I’m still not as good as Stanley, but that’s okay. I actually kept fit from field research and travelling.”

“You’re an explorer?!” Stanford gasped.

“We’re an explorer.” Ford corrected. “We are with Stanley.”

“So,” Stanford felt more comfortable with Ford as they entered the gift shop, so he asked, “Where exactly are we?”

“This is our home. We built this place when we first moved here.” Ford explained as he stood in front of the vending machine. “It’s changed a lot, but so have we. Excuse me.” He let go of Stanford’s hand to click a button on his watch, making the vending machine open. Stanford gasped and Ford took his hand again.

“So robots don’t take over the world?”

“Not yet, anyways.”

“Do we ever get better at talking to girls?”

“Better? Yes. As good as we want to be? No.”

Stanford giggled at that. Maybe there was hope for him, after all. The odd pair went to the elevator, Ford typed in the code, and then they travelled down to the third floor.

Stanford gasped to find a bright, colorful lab. What used to be dark and dingy and dusty was now loud and bright and full of projects ready to be resumed now that Ford was home for the summer. Twinkle lights hung from the ceiling, pictures and books littered the desk, and a big window displayed a big work-room full of projects. The Electron Carpet was rolled up and on a wooden shelf, a motorcycle in the works was in the work-room, and the big machines were fizzing and blinking on either side of Stanford.

“This place is amazing!” He cheered with pure delight.

“Yeah, beats working in a boring office every day.” Ford chuckled. “The lights were Mabel’s idea. Says a workspace needs to be fun. Do you want to see what I’m most proud of?”

“Yes!” Stanford took off for the work-room, thinking Ford was going to show him a microprocessor, or a machine that would benefit all of man-kind, but inside the giant room he could hear Ford chuckling and he found his older self still in the lab.

“No no,” Ford patted his ribs. “It’s right here.”

Stanford raised an eyebrow, confused and hoping it wasn’t going to be a stupid metaphore (he never enjoyed poetry), but Ford pulled out a photograph and Stanford gently took it, thinking it was going to be an award ceremony or a monster or an invention that wasn’t in the lab anymore.

The boy was beyond surprised to find himself in the picture, standing on the broken Stan O’ War with Stanley. Stanford could remember when this picture was taken, it had only been last summer, and from what the boy could tell, this copy was very old and worn. Stanford looked up at Ford to find him smiling peacefully.

“It was our first real achievement, our first big project, and it will always be the one I’m most proud of because we did it with our brother.” Ford explained.

Stanford smiled at himself, but then it went away as he thought about it. He was really willing to leave Stanley behind for all of this. Sure, mostly because he believed Stanley would be better off without him, but how much of it really was just Stanford trying to hide the guilt of leaving his twin alone. “Is… Is Stanley mad at me?”

“Oh, no.” Ford quickly reassured. “When we send you back, it’ll be like you never left.”

Stanford looked back up at himself and saw the picture of someone who looked really similar by his shoulder. Ford noticed Stanford’s averted eyes and he moved to the side so Stanford could look at the picture on the desk. A boy that looked a lot like Stanford had two fingers up by a girl who also looked like him with braces and long hair. The boy was wearing Dipper’s hat.

Stanford took the framed photo and Ford chuckled. “Stanley’s right. The resemblance is uncanny.”

With the pictures of ten and twelve-year-old Dipper, Mabel, Stan and Ford all in front of Stanford, he swallowed and asked, “Dipper and Mabel aren’t just friends, huh?”

Ford chuckled and shook his head. “No. All those people upstairs are your family.”

“So… if I go back now, then all of this will be my future?” Stanford asked, his eyes moving around the room and staying up at the ceiling for a few moments.

“Well,” Ford put a hand on Stanford’s shoulder and said, “That depends on you, you got to make the right choices. But I know you will. Remember, I’m you. I was once a ten-year-old kid looking up at an older version of myself, being told the same thing. Time travel is confusing, but you’ll find what goes around comes around, so if I experienced this,” And Ford gestured to the boy in front of him. ”Then it’s extremely plausible you will experience this,” And Ford gestured to the old man he was.

Stanford grinned and gave himself the picture back and sat the framed photo on the desk. There was still one last thing on his mind. Stanford hesitated, took in a deep breath, and dared to ask, “Does that mean Stanley and I will always be best friends?”

Ford held his cleft chin, hummed to himself, and then said slowly to himself, “I think you better get back to your own time and find out for yourself.”

Stanford sinked in stature and admitted, “I knew you were gonna say that.”

Ford chuckled and offered his hand again. “That’s because we are one smart kid, Sixer.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When back up to face the family, Dipper gave Stanford the time machine and said, “Now, it’s already set to backwards, so just go back fifty-two years and you should land right at the second you came from.”

“Thanks.” Stanford accepted the tape measure and looked at Dipper and Mabel. “I’m… I’m really sorry I got mad…”

“Hey, that’s what family’s all about.” Mabel said, waving the apology away.

Stanford smiled and nodded, then figured he owed them a hug and gave them one. Dipper was surprised, but hugged back, meanwhile Mabel was tearing up and sniffing as she hugged Stanford back tightly.

“Are you crying, pumpkin?” Stan asked.

“I’m… I’m gonna miss him…”

“I’m right here!”

Everyone laughed as Stanford let the teenagers go. Wendy ruffled his hair and said, “Had fun with you today, Stan Two. Feel free to get yourself a pet dinosaur on the way home.”

Stanford snorted and saw Wendy hold out a hand to him, wanting a high-five. He hesitated, then smiled and gave her a well-earned high-six. He then turned to Soos and Melody and said, “Thanks for hiring me, Soos, and giving me a tour.”

“Aw, you’re welcome, Little Dr. Pines.” Soos said.

“Just be careful going home.” Melody advised. “Don’t let the time-cops catch you, don’t go anywhere else, don’t do anything you wouldn’t do…”

“Yeesh, you’re worse than Ma.” Stan teased.

“Yeah, about that…” But Soos was interrupted by his adoptive father.

“Now move it, you knucklehead.” Stan said as it was almost dark outside. “Quit moping around too, it’s not like you're never gonna see us again. We’re your family!”

Stanford smiled and nodded. “Thanks, Stanley. See you earlier.”

“Love you, little brother.” And Stan punched Ford’s shoulder as he laughed.

“Yes, yes, enjoy it while you can.” Ford commented as he rolled his eyes, and Stanford pulled back the tape and released.

The second his ten-year-old self was gone, Ford held out a hand to Stan and clenched it a few times until his twin grumpily forked over some cash.

~~~~~~~~~~

January 1960-something

Just like Dipper said, Stanford was right where he was before he disappeared. He checked the clock in the window of a bakery and saw that no time had passed. He sat the time machine down for the owner to find and raced home, excited to tell Stanley everything.

But when bedtime came and Stanford was above Stanley and sharing his adventure, Stanley only said, “Wow, great story, Sixer!”

“It’s not just a story, Stanley, it’s real!” Stanford insisted. “It actually happened! Don’t you believe me?”

“A future in which you’re more fit than me?” Stanley clarified and blew a raspberry. “I bet you five bucks it never happens.”

Stanford grinned, knowing he was destined to win. “You’re on.”

#GF #fanfiction #meet the pines #meet the robinsons #gift #thank you so much for reading!#remember that bitches love comments

148 notes · View notes

bcbdrums · 3 years

Note

Waterfall!!! And also I appreciate the font!#

You thought I forgot... You thought it would never happen... Well friend, I never delete anything!!! Enjoy waterfalls, and adventure galore.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @gothicthundra!!!

FFn AO3

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Lost World

Shego pushed her hair out of her face as she gave Drakken a sidelong glance from where she sat piloting the hover-car low over the ocean, rapidly approaching an island—their first sign of land in hours, when their destination should have presented itself early that morning. Drakken's brow was lifted in a furrow as he held the large map out in front of him, the corners flapping in the breeze as he turned it clockwise once, and then again. Shego let out a groan.

"Do you even know where we are?" she asked, licking her lips against the slight chapping that was beginning from the hours in the wind.

Drakken seemed to startle and he brought the map close to his chest, turning an innocent and far too broad grin on her.

"Eh, heh-heh..."

There was a pause as Shego blinked at him before groaning.

"Ugh, fine. You fly, I'll navigate."

"But you said I'm not allowed to fly because the last time we were over islands we—"

"Ugh."

They traded roles, with Drakken handing her the fluttering map as she shifted over one seat so he could take the center in front of the steering column. It wasn't too long after the change that they descended through the remaining cloud layer, and in following the small chain of islands a more promising destination soon came into view—a massive island the size of Iceland.

"All right," Shego said decisively, "Hench said it was near the—"

She was cut off as a shadow suddenly covered them, and they had but a second to look up and then duck before what could only be a living creature swooped in to attack them. As a the hover-car was rocked in the air and a horrendous scraping sound filled her ears, Shego registered a glimpse of brown leathery wings and teeth within a beak.

The sound and shadow gone, Shego lifted her head and whirled around in her seat, hands ablaze and ready to defend them. But their adversary had vanished, presumably up and into the clouds.

"Was that a pteranodon!?" Drakken sputtered, spinning in his seat and leaning over the dash in search of the creature.

"No. They're extinct, dingus," Shego said, her ire misplaced as her heart pounded for fear.

"But it looked just like one!"

"As if we really have a clue what any extinct thing looks like," Shego scoffed, peering over her side of the hover-car. There was no sign of their attacker. "It was probably some kind of condor."

Even as she spoke, their eyes locked together on broad scratches into the back of the hover-car that appeared to have been made with talons. Shego swallowed nervously and rolled her eyes, turning to quickly sit down again.

Drakken was frowning and appeared quite anxious, but he sat back in his seat, Shego hoped noting the logic in her words. She herself realized that the map had been lost when she ducked, and she tapped the control console to hopefully distract Drakken's attention from that fact and the bizarre attack. She had definitely seen skin, not feathers...

As Drakken gripped the controls again, another shadow suddenly covered them, but as they looked up this time and gasped in unison, it wasn't a single creature, but a flock. Distinctly triangular wings with claws at their apex drove the creatures directly toward them, and Shego barely had time to throw her hands over her face before Drakken was clinging to her, and somehow together they fell to the floorboards as the hover-car was scraped, rocked, and spun during what Shego could only call a bird strike. Or in this case, a seemingly-not-extinct pteranodon strike.

It ended with a loss of sound and a gaining of black smoke that billowed up around them as Shego felt her stomach suddenly float. They were falling out of the sky, fast, and Drakken realized it as she did when they gasped again.

"Get off!" she cried, shoving at his arms even as he was scrambling away, both of them reaching for the controls as the craft plummeted.

They ended up both half-seated in the center as they pulled back on the control stick, trying to level the hover-car. But whatever the creatures had done was making it nearly impossible.

"Rrghh! What's wrong!?" Shego shouted over the wind, and after moment of blinking out of his panic, Drakken turned and started looking around at the damage to the craft.

"Nnh! The right engine is out and I think the gyroscope was damaged, among other things!"

"Can you fix it?"

"Not in the air!"

Somehow, the craft was beginning to respond, and as Drakken slid back into the seat and rejoined Shego in pulling on the control stick somehow they started to level out. But they were still rocking violently and Shego finally noted the blaring of alarms from the instruments. The smoke from the flamed-out engine was no longer choking them and they all but fell through the last wispy layer of clouds as they moved too quickly toward the nearest island, upon which trees and cliffs were beginning to gain definition.

"We need a place to land!" Drakken called above the wind.

"If we can do anything but crash I think we should call it good!"

Shego internally felt the grimace that Drakken displayed, and they fell into silence for several minutes as they fought the controls in an effort to bring the craft safely down. The cliffs and trees that came into focus were revealing a tropical paradise, which was in fact the type of location they had been looking for, but whether or not it was even the right island anymore was in question.

"I think we can make that ridge over there," Shego said, risking taking a hand from the stick to gesture to the only visible clearing they could see as the hover-car continued to rapidly descend despite their joined efforts.

"Then what? Nyaaaaahh!"

Shego let out a scream herself as below them, out of the trees emerged a massive barrel-shaped head, a gaping mouth full of razor-sharp teeth, and short limbs that reached for them as they soared past. A deep yet deafening rumble sounded from the giant creature, and whether it was from both their efforts or only one Shego didn't know, but the control stick was yanked violently away from their new adversary and the hover-car started to flip.

Shego grabbed onto one of the restraints just as Drakken grabbed onto her, and as the craft spun wildly beyond any hope of control they fell back to the floorboards in a heap where Shego tried to brace herself inside to keep from being ejected as their usual place of security became a violent ride worse than any rollercoaster she'd ever braved.

She heard Drakken scream her name, but he was still holding onto her so she didn't acknowledge him but with a pointed cry.

"Hold on!" she said and then grit her teeth as the hover-car slammed into things, rocks and trees and who knew what else, until it finally hit ground hard and slid to a stop beneath some cooling shade.

Shego realized she'd closed her eyes and opened them as she tried to calm her breathing and assess her situation. She was bruised, but nothing felt broken, and she felt like she'd been through the worst of the old Team Go training routines that Global Justice had ever designed.

She had a flash of panic as she realized Drakken was a dead weight atop her, and she elbowed him hard as the first instinctive reaction she could muster.

"Owww, Shego!" he complained.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "How badly are you injured?"

"Well thanks to you I have bruised ribs."

Shego rolled her eyes and gave him a gentle shove, and was further relieved as he slowly climbed off of her, wincing but seeming to be in no worse state than she was. She sat up slowly and together they peered at their surroundings.

They were deep in a tropical forest, the trees rising high and cool, lush greenery surrounding them. There was a distant sound of water along with the cries of unfamiliar birds and the buzzing of insects. Shego grimaced and watched Drakken's concentrated frown as he slowly looked around them, probably mentally asking all the questions she was.

Where were they? Were they okay? Could the hover-car be repaired? If not, was there another way off the island?

"Was that a T-Rex?" Shego blurted out before she could help herself.

Drakken blinked down at her. "No. That thing was much...larger."

Shego blinked in surprise as Drakken offered her a hand up, but she took it. She suppressed her groan of pain as she righted herself and then they both climbed out of the hover-car and took a few steps away to truly assess the damage.

Their trustworthy vehicle certainly looked battered beyond repair, with numerous gashes from the talons of the winged creatures they'd encountered and dents and scrapes from the impact of the crash. The right engine had flamed out entirely and was definitely inoperable, and from the look on Drakken's face when Shego glanced at him, there was far more wrong with the craft than the superficial damages.

"I'm guessing we can't fly that out of here?" she asked.

"Nghn... Help me get the hood open," Drakken responded.

After forcing the hood up and feeling the start of a headache from the disapproving scowl on Drakken's face, Shego decided to do some quick scouting.

Looking all around, she could only see trees and lush greenery that seemed to grow thicker in every direction except one. She headed that way, and after cautiously pushing past several trees she thought she recognized she spotted the high ridge they had previously been seeking for landing. She also saw smaller cliffs nearer and others beyond, all covered in the same tropical vegetation. Distantly, she thought she could hear the roar of a waterfall.

She felt her brow knit as she turned back. The new lair they had been heading to—a specialty design and first of its kind from HenchCo, fully equipped with a variety of automated defenses and standard super-villain tech—was supposedly on that island, if they had navigated correctly. But there had been nothing, absolutely nothing in that brochure...about dinosaurs.

As Shego returned to the hover-car where Drakken was bent deep within the engine and grumbling, she wondered if Drakken's map-reading had been that bad or if Hench had pulled one over on them. When she reached the still-smoking vehicle Drakken stood up, wincing in pain as he slammed the hood closed.

"Can you fix it?"

Drakken glared at the craft. "Not here."

"Well...great, just great. Now what?"

Drakken rubbed his neck, wincing again as he cast his eyes over the wreck. He reached down to the dash and pushed a button Shego couldn't clearly see.

"We still have the map... Let's just...go to the lair."

"Uh, we lost the map," Shego admitted.

Drakken's brow twisted and he reached back to the rear of the vehicle. Shego's eyes widened as he pulled the map she'd let go during the first attack, tattered and soot-stained, from the ridiculous tail fin of the center engine. She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah... Maybe the water's turned on at that lair. I could use a shower."

Drakken was turning the map over and then seemed to startle as he took in Shego's words. She watched as he assessed his own appearance, his coat twisted and a bit dirty from the smoke, but not damaged. His hair was unkempt as hers was, and her own suit was a bit dirty. But more notable was the sweltering heat that reached them even beneath the shade of the trees. Sweat had already beaded on her brow and was worse on Drakken's.

As she took the map from him and turned it the right direction, leading them back the way toward where she'd seen the ridge, she wondered if the quest and impulsive purchase of a new lair wasn't a fool's venture to begin with.

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

The grade was at least forty-five degrees, Shego decided, after a mere three minutes into the more difficult part of the hike. They had navigated through thick trees, across a trickle of a stream that Drakken had wanted to follow, but Shego reminded him their new lair was on a cliff, and up a hill densely packed with shrubbery. They had both been slapping insects off of their faces more than once, and Shego was grateful for the suit she wore and even for Drakken's coat, if it meant that much less complaining.

"Shegoooo," he whined.

She rolled her eyes. "What?"

"You said we'd find a break fifteen minutes ago," he said pointedly.

Shego grimaced. The 'hill' they were ascending had turned into a mountain and the incline had grown steeper by the minute. After almost an hour she was ready to acknowledge the need for a break, but there truly was nowhere to stop. However the trees were thinning and the sun was becoming brighter—good for the possibility of a rest stop, but bad for their mildly injured condition.

"Okay, we'll stop once we get through these trees," Shego compromised, adjusting her step to be more towards the light. Unfortunately it meant changing her gait to walk more sideways, and she wondered if Drakken would catch on. "Hey, Dr. D.—"

"Ahhh!"

Shego rolled her eyes and shook her head as Drakken slipped and fell, tumbling several feet before smacking into a tree trunk. Shego winced sympathetically and carefully started toward him.

"You all right?"

Drakken waved away her offer of a hand up as he used the tree for leverage.

"I'm beginning to wonder if Hench wasn't just feeding us a line about this...state-of-the-art lair..."

"You think?" Shego scoffed.

Drakken stumbled past her and began climbing the mountain again. Shego noted the sweat dripping down the side of his face before wiping her own brow as it suddenly began to itch. She followed him in silence, the map useless in their present endeavor since they simply needed to reach the top.

"Shego! Look!"

Drakken had paused and was leaning back against a tree, and when she reached his side she saw what had caused him to grin.

Not a flat area, but a sharp cliff's edge awaited them, rocky and just as thick with trees as the part of the hill they were walking. But more telling was the view beyond, where a thin, sparkling waterfall fell from a higher ridge and down beyond view.

Drakken cast a smile toward Shego as he pushed off the tree and started toward the cliff. She followed quickly, worried he might slip and fall over to a horrible end, but as they reached the edge a few minutes later she saw...while a dangerous fall, it wasn't sheer. The rocky cliff was peppered with vegetation, and it appeared one could climb down if determined. The waterfall emptied into a shimmering blue pool below, looking like something out of a dream.

Beyond the tiny oasis, the larger ridge was in view through the trees, and Shego could hear but not see a thundering waterfall somewhere beyond what the tropical forest concealed. She wondered if they were still heading in the right direction, since the map did indicate a fall near the lair. But the map hadn't said anything about dinosaurs...

As if in reminder, a sudden deep rumble echoed off the cliffs, the sound bouncing over the mountain in menacing waves and seeming to even vibrate Shego's bones. The birds nearby responded in flight, scattering from the trees in zig-zag patterns and revealing their bright, foreign colors for a moment before returning to their havens.

"I'm going for a swim."

Shego did a double-take as Drakken picked his way to the edge of the cliff, looking up and down the smaller ridge for a convenient way down.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm hot, tired, bruised, and smelling a bit ripe. We can take a break here," he said decisively as he climbed a bit further up the edge of the cliff. Shego's breath caught as his foot slipped on loose rock dangerously near the edge, and then she started up after him.

"Dr. D., we're lost, probably trapped, and there's dinosaurs on this island. I don't really think there's time to be getting caught with your shirt off."

Drakken had fairly tripped his way several more feet up the incline, Shego cringing with his every step, and he had apparently found a place he thought suitable and was beginning a climb down the cliff.

"Stop being such a panic-Nancy."

"That's not the phrase, and—"

"You could always join me, you know. You're not exactly smelling like roses this afternoon either."

Shego's jaw dropped in a gasp, and she watched with wide eyes until Drakken had descended out of sight beneath the cliff face. She was so busy processing the insult and the request and trying to understand which had made her face suddenly flushed beyond the heat of the sun, that she forgot she needed to keep an eye on him. When she finally picked her way to the cliff's edge, Drakken had already reached the bottom where dense shrubbery surrounded the pool. Drakken was peeling off his lab coat.

"Dr. D., you realize that there could be parasites or something in that water."

Drakken's gloves were stuck inside his boots along with his socks, and Shego narrowed her eyes at the button-up shirt he was wearing beneath his lab coat...and was beginning to unbutton.

"We don't even know if this is the right island, Shego. If we have to climb this mountain I'd rather be at least mildly comfortable doing so. And I'm fairly certain I lost some skin in the crash."

Shego was about to protest, but Drakken's shirt had come off very quickly and had been tossed atop the lab coat on a bush and she found her mouth had gone dry. The white tank top beneath his shirt was sweat-soaked and showed the definition of his muscles quite well. She was staring at his broad shoulders and the way sweat seemed to glisten on his biceps, when the telltale sound of a buckle being undone suddenly sent her heart racing.

Shego reached blindly for a tree to hold onto as her breath caught when Drakken stepped out of his pants, folding them carelessly and tossing them on the bush, and then he pulled off the tank top. He even removed his hair-tie and sat that atop the pile. When his thumbs hooked beneath the elastic of his boxers, Shego spun around and gripped the tree trunk with both hands, noticing suddenly how heavy her breathing had become.

"Wait! Sh-Shego, you're not peeking are you?"

Shego rolled her eyes before gritting her teeth. It took him until he was naked to think about that? Was he...trying to get her to look at him or something?

"No I'm not," was what she managed, her mouth still dry.

"Good... Oh, Shego..."

Her heart leapt to her throat at the way he moaned her name and she stepped nearer the tree, as if it could protect her somehow.

"What?" she snapped.

"The water is perfect!"

Shego swallowed anxiously and slowly turned around. Drakken was over waist-deep in the water but she could still see far too much pale blue beneath the ripples than was decent. She drew her gaze upward to his face, but at that moment he ducked his whole body beneath the water and swam toward where the tiny waterfall was splashing down softly, the white foam further disrupting the clarity of the water to Shego's relief.

She watched as Drakken stood beneath the fall, tilting his head back and letting the water run over his face and wetting his hair down into a shiny black curtain over the back of his neck. When he reached his arms high under the stream and stretched, Shego's heart began to pound.

Drakken... Drakken was...startlingly attractive.

As if without permission, Shego's eyes drifted down to where the water rippled and obscured the pale blue beneath the surface. Strong legs held him up, and atop them she saw the healthy curve of his rear and...

She looked away again, swallowing the lump in her throat as her eyes stared without focus at the trees. Yes, he was very attractive.

"Shego? This is very refreshing. Are you sure you won't join me?"

Shego let herself slide down the tree trunk to sit. It gave her less of a view of the pool, but she could still just see Drakken from where she had settled in her frustration. He had taken a few steps out from beneath the falls and was peering up at her.

"No thanks," she said, crossing her arms and legs. It was then that she suddenly noted just how itchy her skin was, the sweat even worse for Drakken's antics, and she grabbed up her tangled hair and piled it atop her head in an attempt at some small relief.

The desire to peel out of her own suit and slip beneath the waters was suddenly very strong as she felt the heat under her collar, the way her suit was sticking to her in places, and the way too many of her muscles and joints were aching from both the crash and the prolonged exertion of the climb. But Drakken's seemingly friendly request had her heart pounding and her head racing in confusion. Was he actually expecting her to strip and swim naked with him? Was it some kind of...awkward proposition or come-on, disguised in an innocence he hoped she wouldn't see through?

She couldn't find an answer that made sense, so she let her eyes fall back to where Drakken was still standing next to the small waterfall, rubbing and scratching at his skin with a small grimace on his face. Shego wondered just how banged up he was from the crash and considered again how amazing it was neither of them had come out with worse injuries. After a few minutes of 'showering,' Drakken stepped fully out from beneath the sparkling fall, the sunlight seeming to accentuate his best features both above and below the water, and then he turned to float on his back. Shego's cheeks reddened and she looked away.

"Ah...Shego?" Suddenly his tone was anxious.

"What?" she said tersely, studying the dirt on her boots.

"I think...uhm. Ah... That is. Were you going to join me?"

"No," she said just as curtly, not daring to look down. "Someone's gotta keep an eye out for prehistoric nightmares."

The hesitation in his voice suggested he might have realized his state of indecency, and that the waters were crystal clear rather than the gray-blue that surrounded their usual lair. It allowed her heart to calm just slightly, knowing he hadn't in fact been propositioning her in any way. Although it didn't erase the images she was trying not to picture, the revelation of just how appealing her boss was from head to toe still at the forefront of her mind.

"I, ah...think I'm done actually, if you...wanted to clean up? A-After I get dressed," Drakken added quickly.

The tiniest of smirks curled Shego's lips upwards, knowing Drakken had figured out just what he'd done and he was hopefully now as embarrassed as her. She could make it worse with a quip thanking him for the show, but before the thought could leave her lips another occurred. If she accepted the admittedly tempting offer to slip into the waters, would Drakken then be perched atop the cliff ogling her?

It seemed unlikely, given his present nervousness, but...he was only a man, right? Would he be tempted to watch her? Or perhaps simply notice by mistake...

Of far, far greater concern was the heat rising in her chest and pooling deep in her core, and in fact...that she was leaning towards going down to the waters to see if he would peek at her. And the sudden, unthinkable desire for him to actually do so...

"Shego?"

She startled, drawing her knees up to her chest and hugging them, letting her hair fall as she stared wide-eyed at Drakken's face suddenly less than ten feet from hers as he had ascended the cliff. He was fully clothed once again, his wet hair pulled back into its usual ponytail.

"What?" she snapped far too harshly, and he recoiled.

"Did you...want to clean up, and I can keep watch?"

Her heart pounded. Her lips parted even as she still mentally tripped over the choice she suddenly found desperately difficult to make, but then...

Another deep rumble, closer than the last, sent birds vacating the trees and this time many of them didn't return, but headed toward the higher ridge. Shego swallowed the lump in her throat and ignored the rising heat in her body as again the sound seemed to shake her to her core.

"I think my turn's gonna have to wait, Doc," she said, pulling herself upright.

Drakken climbed the rest of the way up and over the cliff, and Shego watched him with a wary eye even as she glanced around over the dense trees that were likely hiding unknown horrors.

"So you feel better now, huh? Can't be comfortable to have gotten dressed while wet."

Drakken glanced at her a bit nervously and then after wringing out his hair, resumed the trek ahead of her up the cliff.

"I used my under shirt to dry off. It's better than being itchy," he tossed back over his shoulder as Shego paused to consult the map again.

They still didn't even know if they were on the right island, so she wondered if there was even a point. But the ridge that was hidden beyond the tiny oasis would seem to line up with what they had been told, if the distant sound of a larger waterfall was any indication.

Puzzling over the map and their location helped Shego refocus on their present circumstance, and not the brief show she'd been witness to minutes before. Not to mention Drakken's renewed grumbling as he half-stumbled up the ridge ahead of her. But if she needed a further distraction, it was quick in coming as a few steps later had her nearly crashing into Drakken's back.

"Uh, what's the big—?"

"Hsshh! Shego!" Drakken whispered in a hiss, turning and nearly knocking her down the steep cliff. Their mutual grabbing of each other's arms was her saving grace, and she was about to protest when he suddenly pointed to the top of the cliff which was the source of the thin waterfall. Shego's jaw fell open.

At the top of the cliff was a herd of small creatures, perhaps the size of a retriever dog, but distinctly dinosaur-like in appearance. They looked like sauropod dinosaurs, gray-green and scaly, and they were all moving about the cliff in apparent ease, drinking from the unseen waters above and foraging in the bushes.

Shego swallowed slowly. She was about to make a comment when from somewhere behind the ridge, a massive head rose up into view on an even more massive neck, at least three times the girth of a giraffe's by her estimation. She had no idea where the ground was below the creature, but if the head and neck were any size indication then the thing was over twice the height of a giraffe as well.

"Drakken..." she heard herself choke out, though she wasn't sure why.

"It's...it's a sauroposeidon!" he whispered gleefully. "And her tiny broodlings!"

Shego turned to him with a grimace. "You just made that up."

"I did not!"

A shadow passing overhead caused them to both look up, and the massive silhouette of a pteranodon was clear as it blocked out the sun momentarily, then flying away and down past the cliff that concealed the greater body of the sauropod.

"Okay, I think we're on the wrong island," Shego said, trying to lean out of Drakken's grasp. "Unless DNAmy got here first..." she added in a mutter.

"What?"

Just then, the sauropod raised its head high and it let out a low call. All of the young ones turned and vanished into the bushes and trees, and Shego and Drakken watched as the massive creature seemed to turn before also disappearing beneath the cliff. A foreboding worse than had already been swimming around Shego's mind took over with a pounding in her head and chest.

"Should we be worried about that?"

Before Drakken could answer, the birds in the trees around them all took flight, and they turned just in time to see the massive barrel-shaped head from before with its gaping mouth of teeth moving through the trees on the steep hill they had already traversed. Shego could see more clearly now the gray-brown color of the creature's scaly skin, the life in its amber eyes, and the way it moved with purpose towards them.

"Drakken..."

"Okay, maybe it is a T-Rex," he said through a nervous laugh. "A very, very...very big one."

Not one coherent thought ran through Shego's head except 'run', which was useless as there was absolutely no way they could.

"Run!" Drakken cried, pushing past Shego and moving down the hill and toward the dinosaur.

"What...?"

She didn't have long to wait as Drakken started scrambling down the cliff again and toward the pool. She followed, having no other recourse, and she noted with rising anxiety that the dinosaur was advancing on them with ease.

"It'll probably just get us more easily down here!" she protested as she caught up to him, and together they attempted to push through the dense foliage and move along the perimeter of the pool. Beyond were more trees, and presumably a stream or some other outlet for the waters. Shego knew there must be another cliff just out of sight somewhere, given where the large sauropod had been.

"Well it definitely would have caught us up there!" Drakken retorted.

Shego couldn't argue, and as she glanced behind them to where the sounds of breaking branches and a heavy thudding that were surely the creature's footfalls indicated its continued its pursuit, her eyes widened at how close the animal suddenly seemed.

"Dr. D. it's gaining!" she alerted him, and he paused to glance back with a frown.

Shego moved past him then, escaping some of the thicker shrubbery and wading through a shallow stream that was revealed as the small pool's outlet, her boots sinking into the heavy silt.

"Hey be careful crossing this," Shego cautioned, turning back as she left the less than knee-deep waters.

"I think the Tyrannousaurus is of greater concern, Shego!"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him as he stumbled into the waters, still moving forward herself. But then she gasped as suddenly the ground gave way beneath her and yet didn't as her feet and calves were engulfed by a viscous material. Her arms flailed as she fought the momentum trying to send her face to the ground while her feet remained suspended one in front of the other in a run. Managing to stay upright, she looked down at the same time she heard Drakken's strangled cry from behind her.

"Quicksand..." she muttered.

"Don't move!"

Shego twisted her torso to face him.

"You think? Get me out!"

In crossing the stream they had moved beneath some taller trees, which Shego hoped would give a momentary shelter from the pursuing beast. She held stock still, knowing the slightest movement would increase the rate at which she was sinking, and that there was a point coming soon at which there would be no escape.

"How!?" Drakken said, looking around frantically.

The thudding of massive footfalls and the snapping of branches was growing nearer, and Shego felt panic begin to grip her heart as she realized that without movement, she was almost defenseless against the terrible lizard. But would it go for the stationary target, or the moving one?

"Oh, Shego! There's vines!"

Her worried gaze that had come to rest on Drakken lifted to follow where he was pointing upward, well out of reach, to where some vines wound around the trunks and branches of the tall, tropical trees. She grimaced as she realized they were useless, but it was a short-lived thought as at that moment, the dinosaur stepped into view.

Its head was about level with the vines, at least twenty feet off the ground, and its sharp eyes fixed first upon her and then down to the nearer target of Drakken. Shego instinctively tried to move, but that only resulted in her lifted leg sinking further and feeling cemented down. She ignited her hands and fired a massive, glowing blast at the face of the creature.

The dinosaur recoiled, and an unsettling rumble so low in frequency it was scarcely audible shook Shego so violently that she stopped firing and held her hands to her ears, Drakken doing the same even as he stumbled away in attempt to flee the creature. Shego realized the sound had come from the dinosaur, and she grit her teeth and resumed firing, ignoring the painful vibrations in her chest as she sought to defend them against certain death.

To her dismay, the beast only shook its head against the flames and continued forward and in her direction. Her eyes widened at the sight of its gaping maw, every tooth sharp and glistening as it sought to make a meal of her.

"Drakken!" she screamed as she fired blasts into the fearsome animal's open mouth.

It recoiled again against what she hoped was a worse pain, and then out of the corner of her eye she was stunned to see Drakken had also apparently attacked the creature, though merely by slapping and kicking at it repeatedly as he was doing in the glimpse she caught. Whether or not it distracted the beast she didn't know, but the situation took a startling turn as the T-Rex took a foul step and sank deep within the quicksand.

A strangled shout left Shego's throat as the beast's body fell less than ten feet from her in the quagmire, it not being able to maintain balance as she had.

"Drakken!" she screamed again as its head wagged toward her, and she resumed firing to hopefully discourage it.

"Shego, cut these vines!"

Drakken's voice suddenly came from somewhere above, and she blinked in surprise to find he had climbed up onto the tail of the dinosaur after it fell. Drakken was pointing to the vines still out of reach on the higher branches, but before Shego could fully process his request the dinosaur thrashed in attempt to free itself. Drakken was tossed upward by the unexpected action and Shego gasped as he smacked into the trunk of the tree. She fired at the nearest vines to where he'd hit and was surprised again as Drakken had the wherewithal to grab onto not just one, but two of the pieces of loosed vegetation.

One vine slipped from his grasp, but he managed to hold onto the other and get both hands on it as it spun and fell, bringing him down in a spiral toward both Shego and the dinosaur. He cried out incoherently, his eyes wide as he sailed so near the T-Rex's face he could have touched it, but then the length of the vine ran out and he began falling back the way he'd come, still spinning and looking dreadfully out of sorts.

"Shegoooo..." he called helplessly, sounding almost sick. But before Shego could reply Drakken had crashed into the tail of the dinosaur once more and this time he held on.

"What...what are you...?"

Drakken had climbed up on the felled creature's back and was traversing it towards her.

"Tie the vine around you, and...I'll pull you out," he said, stopping his approach near the creature's hips. He was still a good ten feet from Shego, but apparently found it near enough as he hurled the vine toward her. Unfortunately, the dinosaur chose that moment to thrash again, and Shego watched in horror as Drakken was propelled up and back, this time falling hard on the ground beyond her sight somewhere behind the large creature. But she had caught the vine.

"Dr. D.!?" she called even as she began pulling the vine into a make-shift harness, unwilling to reject the one opportunity of escape that had been presented.

As she tied the vine she glanced over to where the horrible beast was likewise trapped, its bright amber eye staring at her with intelligence and menace. Her heart beat faster for the look of threat, and as she finished securing the vine she tore her eyes away from the massive creature and back to the jungle, her gaze darting to and fro searching for blue.

"Dr. D.?"

Silence was the only response. And it was with that uncertainty that for the first time since even before the crash, she felt true fear begin to weave its dark tendrils around her heart.

"Dr. D.!?"

"Hold on!"

Shego craned her neck until she saw Drakken ascending a tree behind the dinosaur. She was confused until she saw that the tree's branches were just as overgrown and entwined with those of the larger wild tree where her vine was anchored. She realized he was trying to reach the vine in attempt to free her, but the other tree would have been impossible to climb.

The dinosaur slowly wagged its head toward Shego, and she noticed that it didn't seem to be sinking any further into the quicksand though its hind legs were completely submerged. She wondered if there was a bottom to the deadly pit she had unwittingly stumbled into, and for the moment hoped not because it might save her from the T-Rex. It had moved its head to within fifteen feet of her, lolling in the quicksand and staring at her with a fierce, calculating glare. She ignited her hands to see if it would see her as a threat, but it only continued to watch her. It reminded her of a wolf sizing up its quarry.

She glanced upward cautiously to where Drakken was crawling along a twisting branch, and she followed the vine with her eyes. It wound around the branch he was on several times, and then seemed to grow from the other. She narrowed her eyes.

"I'll cut it loose," she called up to him, and as soon as he affirmed the decision with his eye contact, she shot a blast up to sever the vine between the two branches. As soon as it fell, end still smoldering, Drakken grabbed it and started unwinding it from the branch while his other arm gripped the limb desperately.

The dinosaur brought its head nearer to Shego, within ten feet, and she leaned away instinctively. Its upper body had sunk somewhat into the quicksand, but perhaps because of the greatness of its surface area it hadn't gone in too deep. The beast appeared to be smiling due to the natural set of its jaw, and Shego grimaced. It would just be her luck, to be gobbled up by a smirking dinosaur.

"Hold onto the vine!" Drakken's voice sounded from above, drawing her focus. She complied, noting how Drakken had wrapped the vine around his waist and one arm. She was concerned he would injure himself, but had no chance to warn him before he suddenly let himself fall from the branch.

The shortened vine caught him quickly where it was still draped over the branch, and she felt the tug as his weight was the force trying to heft her up out of the restrictive quicksand. But it still gripped her legs like a vise despite the slight give she could feel, and the resulting pull of the harness was painful as she took all of Drakken's weight. She glanced at his face which was twisted in pain, his arm clearly being pulled to its limit where he had wrapped the vine around it, and she started trying to move her legs back and forth to create space around the confining substance. At first she only felt herself sink further, but her persistence coupled with attempting to pull herself up on the vine finally resulted in some upward movement.

"It's working!" she called to Drakken, who acknowledged her with a brief look even as he struggled against the restraint he'd put himself in. Shego wondered if his arm wasn't going to end up dislocated, but then she felt an even greater give in the quicksand.

Shego turned her focus almost entirely to escaping, peripherally watching the dinosaur that seemed to be eyeing her now with anger. She wondered if it was intelligent enough to understand that she was going to be free, while it most certainly was going to meet its end. The seemingly growing menace in its eye, mere feet away from her, seemed to imply just that, and it gave her the adrenaline she needed to hasten her escape.

After what felt like forever but was probably just over five minutes, she had fully extracted one leg. The release of the one vise-like grip let Drakken's weight settle even more, and the tug against her other leg was increased and it took even less time to fully free that leg.

She maintained eye contact with the dinosaur as she ascended, Drakken's weight bringing him to the foliage-covered ground where he didn't even bother trying to stand, laying on his back as he tried to extract himself from wrapping of the vine. Shego looked down at her legs, dripping with the thick, wet sand, and despite the sudden trembling of her frame she began pumping her legs powerfully.

As soon as she had enough momentum and before Drakken could unwittingly drop her back into the quicksand, she leapt from the vine and landed next to him, mere feet from the tail of the T-Rex.

Drakken peered up at her, seeming to assess her, while she did the same to him. His arm didn't look dislocated, and he was looking at her in a mxiture of pain and confusion.

"You have quicksand in your hair," was what he finally said as he lay panting on the ground.

Shego rolled her eyes, ignoring her own heaving chest and shaking limbs as she reached down to give him a hand up.

"We should get out of here."

"I don't think it can get out... Shego..." He had let go of her hand after standing, and she turned back to see him staring at the dinosaur in childlike awe. "It's a Tyrannosaurus rex."

"Yeah, and it has no interest in small talk. Let's go."

Drakken acquiesced with only a small frown of dismay, this time following when she grabbed onto his wrist. As they moved with utmost care around the massive wash of quicksand, the dinosaur opened its jaw mere inches and another bone-shaking rumble caused them to stop and cover their ears, the low-frequency vibrations causing even Shego's hair to hurt.

When the sound stopped, Shego grabbed Drakken's wrist again and hastened their departure. As they left the dangerous mire behind and approached what appeared to be a break in the trees for the sun shining through, she paused to look back at the beast one more time. She felt unease as it made eye contact with her again, and she suddenly realized why: it wasn't behaving like a trapped animal. It seemed wholly calm, and was clearly intelligent enough to know it was trapped.

Shego swallowed nervously and decided to put the creature out of her mind as they turned to leave the denser part of the jungle behind. As they approached the sunlight the sound of water grew louder, and it wasn't long before they saw why.

"Whoa..." Shego said as they exited the trees and came upon another cliff, this one sheer and dropping away to another lower plateau. It was there that a massive waterfall poured down over yet another far larger cliff, which gave way to a valley beyond. The tributary that the falls were flowing from ran along the plateau, and as Shego followed its shimmering line further she could see the large sauropod in the distance, having made its wise escape. The plateau extended far, and the fast-flowing waters curved around the other side of the mountain they had been previously ascending. She wondered briefly if there was a spring at the top, or if it was simply snow melt that fed the various falls.

Suddenly her senses were assaulted by the familiar rumble which was the T-Rex's bizarre and unnerving vocalization. She stumbled from the pain it caused, sending vibrations through every fiber of her being, but then she gasped in fear as Drakken's own pained stumbling brought him to the edge of the cliff.

"Drakken!" she shouted, lunging for him in time to grab his shoulders, but not too late to prevent them from both going over the edge. They half-fell, half-slid down the cliff face, knees and elbows bumping painfully against the jagged rock while Shego tried to keep one hand on Drakken and grab for anything to slow their fall with the other. He was apparently doing the same, as suddenly their fall was broken by an impact against thin tree branches, which they then tumbled through until Shego managed to get a strong grip on one of them. Drakken slipped out of her grasp, but she was relieved to see him get his hands on another branch moments later.

They made eye contact through the falling leaves, again assessing one another, and when Shego released the breath she was holding Drakken let out a small whimper. She expected him to complain afterward, but he merely gritted his teeth against obvious pain and turned to start descending the tree.

"You all right?" Shego heard herself say as she moved to follow suit.

"Never better," was Drakken's sarcastic yet flat reply. Shego's only response was to grimace until they were on the ground again, and she looked around to be sure this time it was solid. There was no sign of quicksand, and the plateau was far more open than the higher part of the mountain had been, the trees more sparse and the foliage less dense.

Shego discovered she was still trembling as she started toward the fast-flowing waters of the broad tributary, intending to clean off the quicksand that was somehow spreading from her legs over the rest of her. Drakken was clutching his left arm as she passed him, and he followed quickly.

"Are you okay? Shego?"

"If this is the right island, Hench had better give us our money back," was her reply.

They reached the silty bank and Shego paused, second-guessing the decision as she wondered if the slick ground was going to prove to be another death trap.

"Shego?"

"I'm all right..." she muttered absently, wondering again what they were going to do. The map had most definitely been lost during the last misadventure, before she'd even stumbled into the quicksand.

"Shego!"

She looked down as Drakken's hand was suddenly on her arm, and then she was yanked forward along the bank of the stream. She had no need to protest as looking up she saw his cause for alarm. Less than ten yards away, one of the winged creatures—a pteranodon, if she remembered right—was standing beneath a tree and had begun walking toward them, the claws at the apex of its wings suddenly turning the creature into a quadruped. Standing, the creature was taller than they were. As she was processing this, another movement at the corner of her eye attracted her attention, and what had seemed merely like gray-green rocks suddenly became living forms that she soon recognized as more of the winged creatures.

Drakken stopped running and she nearly crashed into him. Peering over his shoulder she saw he had stopped about ten feet from the edge of the next cliff, next to the massive waterfall. He looked nervously between the waters, the drop off into nothingness, and the advancing pterosaurs. Shego stepped up to the edge and looked down. This was the waterfall she had been hearing, over thirty yards in width and falling what appeared to be nearly two-hundred feet to a broad, sparkling river in the valley below.

Shego looked back up to where the creatures were still advancing.

"I don't suppose there's any chance these ones aren't carnivorous?" she asked.

Drakken took a step back toward the cliff, shaking his head as he frowned in worry. One of the animals spread its wings then, their extended length reaching nearly twenty feet.

"Nrrgh!" Shego groaned in pain, her face twisting as she yanked at her hair in frustration. She noted then the quicksand that Drakken had mentioned earlier, tangling the ends of her dark tresses. She would worry about that if they survived. She turned and grabbed Drakken's face and forced him to look at her.

"What? Shego—"

"Don't flail too much because you need to stay upright. Right before you hit, straighten your legs and press your feet together, point your toes, and press your arms down to your front."

"What? I don't underst— Shegooooo!"

Fearing there was no time to lose, she had simply picked him up as she ran the last few feet and leapt off of the cliff, letting go as soon as they were in free-fall. It had been the right decision, as seconds later a pteranodon passed over their heads, its talons closing on air as it sailed past.

"Don't forget!" Shego called, catching his fearful gaze just before he accelerated past her.

She grimaced and grabbed hold of her hair as it whipped around her, keeping to herself that they would hit the water below at over one hundred miles per hour and that her instructions on how to fall could mean life or excruciatingly painful death. But there was no more time even if she wanted to, as the water was approaching faster than she could process. She pressed her feet together hard as she held her hair in front of her with her arms down, holding her breath at the last second.

Just as being trapped by the quicksand had been like being stuck in cement, entering the water felt like slamming into concrete, and for a moment she almost forgot to hold her breath as pain arrested her every sense. But as time seemed to slow she gradually felt the encompassing wetness, her hair floating away from her body as she had somehow let go of it. As her momentum decreased and she became aware that her limbs, though feeling like jello, were still attached to her, she remembered to move them and started pushing against the water that seemed determined to pull her downward. Then she opened her eyes and started looking for Drakken.

Turning all around she finally saw a dark blue shape amid the lighter blue waters, descending rather than ascending. She mentally cursed as she pushed her pained body toward him, hooking her arms under his without taking too close a look at him as she kicked her aching legs to bring them to the surface. If he was dead, or terribly injured...she couldn't bear to see it.

When finally air hit her face, she gulped in a breath even as Drakken's head lolled onto her shoulder. The spray from the waterfall kept her face from drying and she feared her voice would be lost in its roar, but still she filled her lungs again and fairly shouted.

"Drakken!?"

His closed eyes pinched more tightly shut before sliding open to peer deliriously into hers.

"Shego?"

That was all the response she had time for as her strength was giving out. She turned to look all around them, but the riverbank was at least fifty feet distant or more on both sides. She nearly felt like crying at the effort it would take to swim them both to shore, but then Drakken's hand lifted slightly out of the water and pointed.

"There," he said through a cough, and she looked to where behind the waterfall there was a clear space along with rocks and foliage, and the hint perhaps of a cave. It was far closer than the banks, and so gritting her teeth she held onto Drakken with one arm and began to swim.

After several strokes which brought them nearly to the crash of the falls, she felt resistance and was surprised to find Drakken pulling away from her, beginning to swim on his own power. She watched as he pushed his hair out of his eyes and appeared to be in great pain as he swam with purpose toward the mossy rocks behind the falls. She wasted no time in matching his stroke, and before long they were climbing up to safety side by side, the thick moss providing easy handholds for her shaky grip, and then gratefully she found herself on an almost flat surface.

Having slid her body up to be face down, she leaned up on her elbows to watch as Drakken did the same. They made eye contact in that same way they had been for the last several minutes of chaos, assessing one another, searching for the assurance from the other that everything was okay. Receiving it again, despite all odds, Shego let her strength give way as she fairly dropped her cheek down upon the thick, soft moss that covered the rock. Drakken did the same, holding her gaze even as they both blinked in exhaustion from the ordeal of the fall.

"Shego..." Drakken said quietly.

"Mmh," she fairly grunted in reply.

"If this is in fact...the right island... How should we kill Hench?"

A laugh that sounded more like a cough left her lips in reply, and despite the desperate urge to simply close her eyes and sleep, she lifted her head again to peer around at their surroundings. The mossy rocks gave way to the familiar, lush foliage and the darker rocks of the cliff, eroded away after years of being beaten upon by the waterfall. There was a tall, narrow crevice that could be a cave or merely a trick of the eye. And as she turned to look on either side of the falls, she saw that on one side the cliff rapidly grew steep and more jagged, and was completely impassible. On the other side however, it looked as though they may be able to walk their way out to the opposite bank rather than swim, if they were careful.

A light misty spray from the falls was still hitting them, and Shego slowly rolled to her back and was amazed at the sight that met her eyes. The sun was shining directly on the falls, the thicker parts looking gray but the rest a brilliant white as the cascading water droplets reflected the light. She let herself lay down fully, the pain from impacting the water finally settling in as the shock diminished, and she might have slipped into an exhausted sleep right then if not for a slight tugging she felt at her scalp.

"You still have quicksand in your hair," Drakken said quietly, his gloved fingers pulling at the ends of one thick tress and dirtying with the remnants of the sand and scraping up bits of the giant moss in the process.

Shego withheld a groan as she painfully pushed herself upright. Astonishingly, she didn't think she had any injuries that were easily detectable. No broken bones, at least.

"Are you all right?" she asked Drakken as he continued to be distracted by her hair.

He blinked at her and slowly sat up, grimacing in pain as he did so.

"Something's wrong with my arm," he said, and she noted he all but let the left one lie limp—the one he'd wrapped the vine around.

"Can you move it?" she asked.

He cautiously lifted it and began testing its limits, each movement accompanied by a fresh wince of pain.

"You might have torn something," Shego continued, shifting closer and taking his hand, starting to feel his joints for anything that might be out of place. She entirely missed the startled look on his face while she did so, and for a minute as she felt up his arm, searching for torn muscles or ligaments and anything that might give more pain and an indication of how badly he was hurt, she was unaware of his other hand still trying to clean the quicksand from her hair.

When her hands reached his shoulder he let out a hiss of pain, narrowing his eyes at her for a moment before the look suddenly softened. She was surprised by this, and as he held her gaze she suddenly found her cheeks flushing, though why she did not know. She pushed on his shoulder again to distract him from it, and a distinctive 'ow' left his lips.

"Yes, that's where it's the worst!" he affirmed, leaning back from her slightly.

"You might have torn something, but it's not bad," Shego said. "It would be best to immobilize this arm."

"And just where are we going to find an ACE bandage out here, Shego?"

She rolled her eyes and shifted away, sliding her shaking legs back into the water.

"Same way we got a harness and pulley?" she said.

Drakken half-frowned as he watched her dip her hair into the water and run her fingers through it, removing as much sand as possible. But after a glance around them showed no vines or other suitable binding material nearby, she simply climbed back on the rock and returned to his side. Her legs still felt like rubber beneath her and her body ached, and she wondered how Drakken was managing to sit upright enduring at least the same pain as she was, if not more.

When she was next to him again the fatigue suddenly hit her like a weight, and she looked from beneath heavy eyelids to where he cradled his arm, his wet hair plastered down to his forehead as he looked at his limb worriedly. She was surprised as the emotion was suddenly transferred to her, his brow rising as he looked at her in concern. This time when her face flushed she didn't look away, but merely marveled at how well Drakken had endured everything they had been through. She was frankly surprised that she had survived, let alone her boss.

"Are you cold?" Drakken asked.

Shego realized she was hugging herself and shaking, her muscles tensed. It was probably a combination of shock from all that had occurred, but she was indeed cold.

She nodded to the affirmative as Drakken let out a huge yawn, his teeth chattering when his jaw closed again. The look he gave her then caused her heart to beat harder, though it wasn't any different that she could tell from his prior worry and assessment. But before she could analyze it further he was unbuttoning his sodden lab coat.

"What are you doing?"

Drakken paused. "Did you...want to keep moving?" he asked, appearing a bit dismayed at the prospect.

Shego's brow rose, and knowing that he must be at least as pained and exhausted as she was, it was clear then that a rest was apparently in order. Especially since all danger seemed to have passed. At least for the present.

"Not yet," she said, shaking her head. "Let's...break here for awhile."

She lay down on the moss and watched as Drakken got out of the lab coat, unbuttoning a few buttons of his shirt beneath as well. There was no sign of the tank top he'd worn before, and she wondered if it had been left behind at the pool or was simply shoved into a coat pocket.

As her eyes lingered on his sculpted collarbone and his broad, muscled shoulders revealed through the wet shirt, she almost missed him spreading the coat out over his legs like a blanket, wet though it was. She was surprised then when he moved to spread it over her too.

Her first thought was actually how much warmth the coat suddenly brought, despite being wet. The second was a further flushing of her face and pounding of her heart, which she knew had been encouraged by Drakken's physique being put on display again. But it was hidden again as he settled down on his back on the moss and closed his eyes, pulling the coat up to their shoulders and then holding his injured arm across his chest.

Shego watched him for a moment, but then as rational thought caught up to the emotions that had seemed to rule over her since the hover-car crash, she realized that he was probably just as concerned for her as she was for him. The insecure part of her wanted to cast off his kindness and say she could take care of herself. But the more mature part was eager to accept the small offer of comfort and safety; it was all they had at the moment, after all.

She moved nearer to Drakken on the moss until she was almost touching him, and she caught his suddenly nervous gaze just before she let her eyes slip closed. It would serve him right to be a little uncomfortable, after the show he'd given her earlier...

With her mind racing with images of every moment between the crash and the present, and with her body feeling so heavy that it might simply dissolve, she fell fast asleep.

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

Shego nimbly undid Drakken's shirt buttons with one hand while her other pushed his collar aside. She bent forward to place a soft kiss on his shoulder as her fingers continued to explore his physique. A thrill ran through her as his hands slid into her hair at the back of her head, his fingertips running gently under her jaw to draw her face up toward his. She looked at his lips, smiling softly, and as she leaned forward to meet his kiss her gaze lifted to his eyes, warm, and full of love...

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

Shego woke up. Her racing heart was the first thing she was aware of, and the roar of the waterfall second. Next she realized that somehow, she had moved nearer to Drakken in sleep and was pressed up against his side.

A flash of imagery from her dream caused her to hesitate, but only for a moment before she backed away. Drakken was still sleeping, unmoved from when she had closed her eyes before. She wondered how long she had been out, suspecting only a brief period because her hair and suit were still very damp. Of course, the lab coat retaining heat and thus moisture could have something to do with that.

As images from her dream came back to her again, she stared at Drakken's still face. She thought back to when he had decided to bathe in the pool, unaware of her watching him. That had to be the reason for the dream... Nothing else. She had no other feelings for him, besides...

She blinked at herself as she watched him sleep, wondering at herself. What were her feelings exactly? Protectiveness... She wanted to keep him safe. It was her job, after all. And she supposed there was a sort of caring and friendly regard that had developed over the years. But nothing deeper. Nothing like the lust she'd felt in the dream, or like...that look in his eyes.

She rolled over to face away from Drakken, her face twisting in worry. He didn't...have feelings for her, did he? He couldn't...

And yet despite all the uncertainty and fear the idea brought her, she couldn't deny the warmth trying to seep into her heart at the idea. A sudden, sharp inhale from behind her alerted her to Drakken's waking, and she felt a fluttering in her chest and stomach. She groaned internally before rolling back over to face him again.

He was blinking in confusion, and when she took a deep breath his eyes flashed to hers in fear.

"Dr. D.?" she asked quietly.

His expression calmed and his cheeks colored—from embarrassment, she was sure, nothing more—and then he moved his hand over his injured arm.

"Shego... If this island really is some sort of lost world...we could make a fortune—"

"Whoa, hold it right there Chief," she said, pressing a finger to his lips to silence him. "We are not selling, cloning, mutating, mind-controlling, nothing with these dinosaurs."

"But Shego—"

"Nope. Has the...what, hour and a half at most that we've been here taught you nothing?"

Drakken's face fell. "Fine..." he said, more disappointed than angry. It surprised Shego, especially as she'd been hoping for a tantrum to try to bring more normalcy back to her thoughts.

She was saved then by a gurgle from Drakken's stomach, and she carefully pushed herself upright, every joint and muscle protesting the action.

"You hungry?"

Drakken likewise started to sit up, slower than she had and grimacing with the movement.

"Like there's a Chez Couteaux around here..." he muttered.

Shego rolled her eyes. "We can catch some fish from the river," she said, gesturing broadly.

"Oh."

"After we find some place with more sun so we can dry off," she continued, slowing standing to her feet.

Drakken winced doing the same, and Shego noted how he still held his left arm to his chest as he fumbled with his coat.

"Wait... What about using your belt as a sling?" she suggested.

Drakken blinked back into focus as he peered at her curious.

"My belt?"

"Yeah. Here, I'll do it," she said, reaching for the black belt of his lab coat and pulling it out from the loops. She buckled it and then reached up to put it around his neck. She couldn't help but blush from the closeness, and when she glanced at his face it had colored too. She frowned and looked down to his wrist, carefully looping the belt around it several times until it was elevated and held close to his chest. She then draped his coat over his shoulders so he wouldn't have to fight with it, fastening the collar so he could wear it like a cape, though he slipped his right arm into the sleeve regardless.

Drakken cleared his throat. "Ah... Thank you."

"Just be careful," she said, regretting how harshly the words came out. He hadn't actually done anything... It was her own mind to blame if she was having any confusing thoughts. "Let's look for a place we can start a fire and get dried off."

Drakken nodded his agreement, and Shego took the lead as they picked their way over more moss-covered rocks and others that were simply slick from the surrounding mist. The sun still shone brightly, and it helped in their carefully moving out from behind the thundering fall and back into familiar, lush foliage, birdsong eventually reaching her ears as they moved further and further from the waters.

It occurred to her then that there was no guarantee of safety down in the valley. In fact there would probably be more creatures near the water in the more forgiving terrain. But thus far there were no signs of dangerous animals, and she decided to relax while she had the chance. There was no telling how long the peace would last.

Several minutes later found them in a slightly more arid part of the forest, the shrubbery less dense and the air not so damp. There was no sign of anything she could use as kindling, but she could always cook a fish on a rock if it came to that. She paused and squeezed down the length of her hair, but only a few drops fell from the ends as the sun was doing a good job of drying it.

"All right..." she said, sighing lightly. "Dr. D. if you wanna wait here and maybe look for something to start a fire, I can go— ...What is that?"

Drakken was several paces behind her and trying to hide something under his coat. But with the one arm immobilized he wasn't very successful, and she could see what he held was white and about the size and shape of a melon. He smiled nervously as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Ah...lunch?"

Shego realized the object in his hands was in fact...a massive egg. Which could only mean one thing... She rubbed her temples as the ache in her head grew.

"Where did you get it? Wh-When did you get it?" she fairly stuttered, in awe of the man's ability to not only get into trouble but also to find a loophole in the litany she'd given him earlier.

"Over there by that boulder," Drakken said, nodding back to a massive, gray-lavender rock partly concealed by the shrubs.

At that moment, the boulder seemed to rise several inches and then sink down again, the process taking several seconds. Shego and Drakken had both frozen upon seeing the action, and then Shego tiptoed next to Drakken who was chewing his lip nervously.

"That's...not a boulder, eh-heh...is it..." Drakken muttered.

"No, it's a big mama dinosaur!" Shego hissed. "Put...the egg...back!"

Drakken favored her with sad, pleading eyes, but she only frowned at him in response. He grimaced and started tiptoeing toward the new potential threat. The creature let out what could only be a snore, and Shego held her breath as Drakken crept nearer.

Suddenly, the 'boulder' rose again, and Drakken scurried quickly back to Shego's side where together they slowly began backing away. The dinosaur took shape and Shego recognized it as a triceratops, at least ten feet tall and twice as long.

She expected the beast with its impressive frill and threatening horns to turn on them, but it only gave them a momentary glance before trotting away at a brisk pace.

Shego felt tension drain from her frame as she relaxed and Drakken did the same next to her, both heaving sighs of relief.

"You would steal from the one dinosaur on this island that isn't carnivorous... Still gotta put the egg back."

"But...but Shego—"

"Nope, I know you don't actually want to eat it. And an angry mama dinosaur is the last thing we need right now."

Drakken looked like a hurt child as he started toward where the triceratops had rested. But at that moment, a familiar bone-shaking rumble sounded through the valley. Shego held her ears as Drakken cried out in pain, clutching tightly to the large egg.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Shego shouted. When the sound stopped and the pain diminished, she ran forward and yanked on Drakken's shoulder, nearly causing him to trip as she started running after the triceratops.

"Shego, why are we...? Oh, yes, good plan!" he said, smiling in approval as they ran through the thinning forest.

"Makes sense to follow the natives. That...long-necked one knew how to escape, maybe this one will too!" she said, voicing the thought that Drakken had already figured out.

They moved through the thinning trees until the valley opened up into a vast grassy field. They stopped short at not only the sight of the triceratops, but also more sauropods and other dinosaurs of varying species and sizes, some in herds, others alone or in small groups.

Shego and Drakken turned to look at each other simultaneously.

"Wrong island?"

"Kill Hench anyway?"

They nodded to each other just before another low rumble caused them to cringe, and they continued forward into the field having nowhere else to go. Shego hoped the T-Rex would have more of an appetite for familiar saurian prey than new.

They had passed the triceratops and noted other smaller dinosaurs fleeing, some heading away into the trees and others looking to shelter with the larger specimens. Shego paused as she realized, there was no shelter in the field, and she doubted a dinosaur would recognize them as friend.

A sound between a snort and a roar caused her to turn around, and she gasped in shock as a T-Rex burst through the treeline out into the field. Whether it was the one that had threatened them before or not, she didn't know, but it was running faster than she and Drakken were and if it chose them as its target, there would be no escape.

To her surprise, the triceratops then turned around to face the advancing predator, sounding its annoyed snort again in challenge.

"Doc, look!" she called, and he stopped running and turned in confusion, his brow rising as he saw what appeared to be about to happen.

Shego watched as Drakken's face morphed from fear to shock and then unbridled joy. Her own brow furrowed in confusion until she realized...the scene unfolding was probably a childhood dream come true. Two prehistoric creatures, inexplicably living, and about to engage in epic combat.

"Is this all just a dream...?" she mused to herself as she turned back, just in time to see the T-Rex commence its attack.

The beast opened its mighty jaws and lunged down toward the triceratops's neck. The slightly smaller dinosaur turned, its frill and one horn meeting the attack and sending the T-Rex recoiling in pain. The triceratops advanced then, thrusting forward with its long horns. The larger bipedal dinosaur stepped aside with shocking agility and went again for the neck of the shorter one.

Shego was just as transfixed by the scene as Drakken, but as a dinosaur that looked like an oversized ostrich suddenly ran in front of them, she realized they were missing their opportunity for escape.

"Dr. D., I hate to interrupt this childhood fantasy, but we really need to go."

He made a sound of protest as he looked at her in dismay, still clutching the massive egg to his chest.

"Look, I know this is a unique situation, but we're really exposed out here."

She watched as Drakken's expression became torn between the wisdom of what she had said, and watching what was surely a once in a lifetime display.

"Nyeh... Nnh, nragh!" he cried out, his face twisting in frustration, and Shego breathed a small sigh of relief at his acquiescence.

They glanced around together and then made a broad circle around the battling dinosaurs, heading back toward the treeline and the high cliffs beyond. Everywhere else around them was too distant, and too uncovered. And besides...there was far more prey for the T-Rex in the field.

When they reached the treeline, panting for breath, they paused to watch the fight once more. The triceratops still seemed to be an equal match to the predator, thrusting its horns toward the T-Rex's belly as the larger creature continued to try to gain a fatal bite.

"I wish we'd brought the camera," Drakken grumbled.

"These probably aren't the last dinosaurs we're going to see today. Come on."

They pushed back into the foliage, leaving the valley with its herds and the fierce battle of the legendary beasts behind them.

The next several minutes were a silent journey, following the sound of water again until it led them right back to where they'd left, albeit from a different angle. They found the side of the foliage-covered cliff, beautiful and entirely impassible, and then moved along its rocky base back around to the waterfall which had proven their one place of respite. Shego was considering the cave-like crevice they had seen, wondering if it too would hold terrors or if it would be one place on the island devoid of prehistoric creatures come to life.

Drakken either guessed her thoughts or trusted her without question, because he didn't say a word when they arrived back at the river and she began leading them back across slippery and precarious moss-covered rocks. Her hair hadn't fully dried yet, but she tried to keep them nearer the cliff wall to avoid the spray and the mist, sure that Drakken in his damp layers was far more uncomfortable than she was.

When they arrived back at the flatter place where they had had a brief nap, Shego paused to look at the waterfall. The sun was still shining through them, the waters cascading down like waves of liquid lace, taking form and then vanishing, the sequence restarting and never ending as the waters emerged from the top and joined the river at the bottom.

She grimaced, the sight suddenly unsettling in that it wasn't something tangible she could exert any will over, just like waves across the ocean.

"Shego?"

She startled slightly hearing Drakken's voice right at her ear, and she turned to see him still holding the melon-sized egg, and then looked up to his concerned face. He backed off slightly when she raised her brow in question.

"Ah...were you...thinking we should try the cave?"

"Yeah," she said, hurrying to move past him and climb higher up the rocks to where the crevice began.

Was she just imagining that Drakken seemed softer and more attentive toward her, or was that a result of all they had been through on the island? Or was he perhaps always that way, and she was only just noticing it now?

The thoughts sent her heart racing again, and she put them aside as she hefted herself up the final rock and onto the ledge where the crevice began. She turned, realizing Drakken would need help, and reached down to take the egg. He looked reluctant before handing it off to her.

"Don't break it!" he cautioned fearfully.

"Not yet. You said we could eat it, well...we're going to."

Drakken looked dismayed as he used his one arm to raise himself up, Shego tugging at his coat with one hand to provide some aid, and she shook her head at his expression.

"No taking dinosaur eggs home to experiment on, either. If we're not eating this thing, then stop carrying it around."

"Ngh... Fine," Drakken said sadly, again surprising Shego with his lack of fire and protest.

Her brow furrowed as she handed the egg back to him and then turned to examine the crevice. It ran at least fifty feet up the side of the cliff beneath the fall, narrowing at the top, and was scarcely six feet wide at the bottom. But Shego could see now, it ran deep under the mountain and there was light coming in from somewhere else, which meant it at least had a 'window' if not another outlet.

"Let's go," she said, striding forward confidently.

Drakken followed close behind, the damp rock beneath their feet soon becoming dry, and no less than twenty paces in did the path broaden and two paths diverged. One grew more wide and seemed to get darker the further it went. The other seemed to be the source of the other light and was narrower. Shego looked over her shoulder at Drakken, who was glancing between the two paths.

"I...would prefer light right now, if...that's an option," he said.

Shego silently agreed and turned to go down the narrower path where light still shone on the ground. The ceiling above grew lower and soon the path was a mere crack, and Shego paused wondering if it was worth continuing and if it would open up at all. But distantly...she could still see light. Drakken made no objection when she turned sideways to continue squeezing through the narrowing passage, and she noted Drakken struggling to keep the large egg from bumping on the walls as he did the same.

"Oh... Whoa," Shego finally said as their efforts were rewarded and the tiny passage suddenly opened into a vast cavern. But it wasn't the space, but the cavern's contents that caught her attention.

"Amethyst?" Drakken said as he stumbled out to stand next to her, the both of them gaping at their surroundings.

A hole in the ceiling was providing the light, and the walls of the cave were entirely covered in sparkling crystal formations. Even parts of the floor were adorned with the majestic-looking stones, and Shego wondered if it was safe to walk on. She had never seen anything like it, and glancing at Drakken's face she was sure he hadn't either.

"Well..." she finally said, swallowing dryly. She took a few steps forward and then sat down on some of the normal stone in the cave. "Want to crack that baby open?"

Drakken blinked back into focus and sat down, his expression morphing into a pout. He leaned forward awkwardly to set the egg down, his left arm still restricted slightly due to its partial-immobilization, and the large egg bobbed slightly on the stone ground before coming to rest between them. Shego lit her hands as she stared at it.

"I guess roasted in the shell would be easiest?"

Drakken grumbled something incoherent, twisting uncomfortably on the ground until he finally reached up to unfasten his collar and then shake the coat off of his right arm. Shego noted that his shirt and pants were still quite damp, and she wondered if since there was an outlet in the ceiling, an actual fire wouldn't be useful.

"I could go grab some firewood?" she suggested. Drakken looked confused, so she continued. "You could dry off a bit more."

"Nngh...all right," he agreed, and Shego rose again, taking a moment to look around at the sparkling purple of the cave before making her way back out through the narrow passageway.

She glanced back to see Drakken gather up the egg into his lap, and she shook her head. She could understand his feelings about the situation... Granted, harnessing dinosaurs for evil would be pretty impressive. But knowing Drakken, ultimately he would likely get bored with the endeavor and simply want one as a pet.

As she moved back out of the passageway and toward the waterfall, she considered the prospect. Where would they even keep a pet dinosaur? And the egg Drakken had taken, from the triceratops... If the size of the mother was any indication there was most definitely no room for a full-grown specimen at the Caribbean. Not to mention, it probably needed food sources that could only be found on that island.

No, a pet dinosaur was simply impossible. Unless...

Shego let the roar of the waterfall mix with her thoughts, the sensation somehow calming as she considered their entrapment. If Jack Hench had really sold them a lair on a lost world, there were a lot of questions to be answered. How had he managed to build it? Why hadn't he mentioned the dinosaurs? If they were truly on the right island, as the map had seemed to indicate, was all of it nothing more than...a plot by Hench to get rid of them? They had ripped him off plenty of times over the years, one time even destroying his entire inventory via accidental explosion when they stole a neutronic laser.

Shego had gathered a number of branches in her arms as she mused over the possibilities, but nearly all were still green. Not that she couldn't ignite them, but Drakken would certainly find the heat uncomfortable. The thought struck her then, that if it was too hot he might take off his shirt.

Her face flushed and she almost stumbled over a mossy rock at the idea. She really, really needed to get those thoughts out of her mind. And yet, the image of a broad blue chest and muscled arms was suddenly filling her vision.

She groaned at herself and shook her head in attempt to banish the thought. So her boss had an attractive figure, so what? That fact wasn't about to change anything between them, and she certainly didn't want it to, so it was best to forget all she'd seen before.

She awkwardly shoved her way back through the passageway, the branches and twigs in her arms making the task more difficult, but finally she managed to push through and returned to the sparkling purple cavern. She was surprised upon entering to find the dinosaur egg sitting alone atop Drakken's open lab coat, the man himself standing next to one of the walls and apparently just staring.

"It's gonna get hot in here," Shego said by way of greeting.

Drakken jumped and whirled around, and a tiny smirk curled at the corners of Shego's mouth. Even with all the noise she'd made in returning, she had still been able to startle him. It was a welcome familiarity, and she focused on that to be rid of her other thoughts as she began arranging the branches and sticks into a pile.

"Oh. Ah...Shego, would you...like a crystal?"

Shego looked up to where Drakken was still standing next to the wall, and holding his right hand behind his back.

"I'm guessing you already got one somehow?"

Drakken then revealed a tiny laser cutter in his left hand, and Shego rolled her eyes as her smirk grew. He stepped back over and sat down carefully, next to her rather than across from what would be the fire, and then he opened his right hand to reveal a beautiful, sparkling amethyst.

Shego felt her face grow inexplicably warm again, and she plucked the golf-ball sized crystal from his palm and pretended to study it in hopes he wouldn't notice the pink in her cheeks.

"This is another volcanic island," he commented as he pocketed the laser cutter and shifted to be more comfortable.

Shego grimaced. "I think we are in the right place... But I'm thinking Hench just sent us here to get rid of us."

Drakken glowered. "Should leave him stranded here..."

Shego leaned back, grinning pleasantly at the idea. "Sounds like a plan. All right, how about lunch?"

Drakken's face fell, but he leaned over and rolled the egg toward him from where he'd left it on his coat.

"So...just set it in the sticks and we can roast it, I guess," Shego commented.

Drakken moved to do just that, but then he gasped and held the egg out in front of him, almost dropping it before he managed to set it on the ground where it rolled until hitting the sticks.

"What?" Shego asked.

"It moved!"

Her brow furrowed. "Eggs don't... Oh...oh no."

A small cracking sound was heard, and Shego stared in horror while Drakken gasped in glee as a small hole appeared in the egg, something gray starting to poke through. Drakken reached down and began trying to pry away pieces of the shell.

"Ungh... Dr. D., you know it probably needs to do that itself to...build strength or something, I dunno..."

Drakken gasped again as he pulled his hand away.

"You're right! Ohh I wonder how long it will take!"

Shego grimaced as she idly looked at the large amethyst still sitting on her palm.

"Look, Dr. D.... I already thought about this. We can't have a pet triceratops. Or any kind of pet dinosaur. It wouldn't fit back at the lair, and it probably needs some food that can only be found on this island."

Drakken turned to her with expectant eyes. "But if we find the lair that Hench sold us here..."

"I don't think there is a lair. And if there was, there's no way we're living on an island filled with dinosaurs."

"But...but Shego—"

"No buts. It's not happening."

Drakken's frame diminished as he sighed, and he turned to watch the egg thoughtfully as he began scratching at his shoulder. Shego considered the pangs in her stomach and considered that they would still need food, especially since it looked as though they would be there for awhile.

"I can still catch us some fish. Want me to start the fire now?"

Drakken considered and then nodded, picking up the egg and moving it several feet away, near part of the amethyst-adorned ground. He then scooted back himself as Shego shot a continuous blast at the stick pile, the heat rising instantly in the cave as it took quite a bit to ignite the green wood.

Shego stood once she was sure the sticks were ablaze and shook her hair out, eager to finish drying off herself. Drakken's scratching had reminded her of her own discomfort, and she wondered if it would be out of place to take a purposeful dip in the river and let her suit dry next to the fire.

She opened her mouth to suggest the idea and ask if she could borrow Drakken's coat for modesty, when her words caught in her throat at the sight of him peeling out of his shirt. But he got stuck due to the belt wrapped around his wrist.

"Ah, Shego could you help me with this?"

Her heart was pounding.

"Help yourself," she answered, a slight edge to her voice. As her eyes lingered on his bare shoulder while he carefully extracted his left arm from the makeshift sling, she thought again about wanting to clean up further... And then her mind recalled the image of Drakken under the waterfall, this time adding herself to the picture.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, the heat she was feeling having nothing to do with the fire she had built. She sat down again, this time on the opposite side of the fire from Drakken.

The flicker of the flames was creating a fascinating effect on the rich purple crystals of the cave, making them shimmer like waves, some slow and others quick and fleeting, matching the chaos of the tiny blaze. It was distractingly beautiful, and she forced herself to focus on that as it became clear to her that her imagination couldn't be trusted for even a second.

"Shego! It's hatching!"

She looked down to where an impressive amount of progress had been made, and she could see a broad curved beak and scales within the much larger hole in the egg. Its sides were also cracking as the creature seemingly pushed against its entrapment, and she let herself slip into the distraction of watching the process, the sounds of the fire and the shimmering surroundings of the cave becoming a mere backdrop to the magic occurring in front of her.

It could have been minutes or even half an hour, but Shego didn't care as long as it provided distraction. Drakken had all but laid down as he stared at the egg, a broad grin on his face as he occasionally muttered encouragements to the creature within. And then finally, the shell gave way to reveal the baby dinosaur.

Drakken apparently couldn't resist any longer and began pulling pieces of the shell away as the baby triceratops, about the size of a chihuahua, rolled over and wobbled up to its feet. It fairly matched the cave, being gray-lavender in color, and it blinked between Shego and Drakken and let out a cry that sounded something like the moo of a calf.

Shego straightened up as her brow furrowed. An internal war began as she looked between the creature and Drakken's excited face, and it was with an annoyed growl that she rapidly came to a decision.

"Oh, look Shego! It's so cute! I'm going to name her...Crystal, after the cave where she was born," he said happily.

Shego's brows knit together.

"How do you know it's a girl?"

"Well—"

"Never-mind. Dr. D.... We have to take it back to its mother."

Drakken looked devastated. "But...but Shego, can't we—"

"Doc... Have you ever seen a baby...anything, born before? What's the first thing they do?"

The little dinosaur let out another cry, louder than the first, and Drakken frowned as it stumbled across the floor and continued looking around.

"They eat," Shego finished the thought. "If you want...little Crystal to survive, she has to go back."

"We don't even know if the mother survived..." Drakken protested faintly.

"Yeah, but this thing'll still stand a better chance out there than it will in here with us."

Drakken frowned, but sighed with the logic of her explanation. As he started to re-dress she looked down to the amethyst crystal she still held and suddenly wondered...why had he given it to her?

Finding no suitable answer, or at least none she wanted to entertain as her cheeks flushed again, she put the gem away in her leg pouch and then hesitantly made to pick up the little dinosaur. Drakken wouldn't be able to manage a squirming creature with his injured arm, and he watched in surprise as she grabbed it and held it away as it began wiggling violently in protest.

"Wild animals don't make good pets..." she muttered as Drakken shrugged into his coat, putting both arms through the sleeves but leaving it open as he put his arm back in the makeshift belt-sling himself.

"Sometimes..." he said sadly.

"Well not this time. Leave the fire, this is still probably the safest place to spend the night."

"Spend the night?" Drakken said as he started leading the way out of the cave.

"Well yeah, unless you have some brilliant escape plan?"

The conversation paused until they had traversed the more difficult part of the passage, and then Drakken glanced at her as they began moving back toward the waterfall.

"It shouldn't take a full day for the henchmen to reach the wreckage. It only took us about...six hours, to get here from the lair?"

"Wait...what are you saying? Why would the henchmen come looking for us?"

Shego very nearly dropped the baby triceratops as it renewed its struggling, and Shego could tell by the look on Drakken's face that he wanted to hold it. She would have gladly handed it over if not for the risk of further injuring his arm.

"They'll just follow the hover-car's tracking device."

"But why? How would they know we need help?"

"Because I activated the distress signal," Drakken said plainly as he began moving over the moss-covered rocks behind the waterfall.

Shego's eyes widened and she felt anger begin to boil in her veins.

"You...you what!?" Shego cried, almost dropping the baby dinosaur in her rage.

Drakken nearly slipped on a rock as he looked at her in confusion and fear.

"Yes, before we left to look for the new lair..."

It was the sheer bewilderment in his expression that caused Shego's fury to diminish as she realized...it made sense. They were supposedly in search of a new lair, and wasting time standing around a pile of wreckage for hours when there was a promise of modern comforts made no sense. It had just been their bad luck that they had most likely been crossed by Hench, and of course Drakken would have activated the distress signal.

Shego scoffed and stared down at the dinosaur, its fearful wiggling continuing while it also appeared to briefly take in their surroundings every few seconds. The small creature reminded her of all the pain and extremely near-death experiences they had been through in their hours on the island, not that she really needed reminding; her body still ached from the death-defying cliff jump.

"Okay, after we get this thing back, we're going to the hover-car. If there is a lair on this island, we're not finding it today, and I wouldn't want to even if there is."

Drakken's face fell again, but she knew he would eventually see it her way. A lost world with all of its unknowns was not the place for a super-villain's lair...

At least, not until it was better understood.

She considered this for the first time as she followed Drakken back through the trees toward where they had first encountered the mother triceratops. Yes, the island was rife with danger... But Drakken said it was volcanic, and that was a plus. They could easily build a defensible lair on an active volcano; they'd done so before, after all. It was doubtful that dinosaurs would be a problem in that harsh an environment, and the fearsome creatures would provide a natural defense against any intruders. Not to mention the island's other hazards, quicksand and giant cliffs, and who could know what else...

Shego's thoughts were broken as Drakken stopped short, and she looked beyond him to see that the mother triceratops was about twenty yards distant, rooting at the ground with her snout and seeming either ill or confused as she turned in large circles and moved back and forth over the same spot of ground. It was clearly looking for its egg.

Shego looked at the slightly-calmer creature she held, and then to Drakken's sad but awed face.

"You...want to pet her before we let her go?"

Drakken startled and looked down at the baby dinosaur. He hesitated, and then reverently ran his fingers over its frill. As he did so Shego looked back to the massive creature in the trees ahead of them. She noted the lines of red blood over its frill and back, indicating where the T-Rex had gotten a few bites in. She wondered if the battle had ended in a stalemate, or a triceratops victory, but she wasn't about to voice the thought and give Drakken the idea of going further into the valley to find out.

She looked down to where Drakken was still petting the small creature, which had amazingly stilled in her hands. Its curious eyes were teal in shade, she noticed for the first time, and its gray scales definitely had a lavender tinge. It really was...cute, with its small nubs of horns and tail that was swinging idly as Drakken gently felt over the creature's skin.

Shego looked up at his face. He was in pure awe of the creature, and there was longing in his eyes as he even ran his gloved hand over the sole of its small foot, seeming to try to memorize everything about it. Shego was tempted to sigh and hurry him along, but...she decided to let him have the moment. It was surely one that would never come again.

"All right," Drakken said with a sigh, his eyes sad as he retracted his hand.

Shego set the baby triceratops down and faced it the right direction, giving it a nudge to get it to start stumbling forward. It let out another of its moo-ing cries, and the mother triceratops immediately looked up and started in their direction.

Shego began backing away, setting a hand on Drakken's shoulder to make him move with her. But the flash of fear she'd felt was apparently unnecessary, as the hatchling and its mother were united in moments, the large dinosaur's attention turning solely to its baby. But then, it lifted its head again and looked directly at them.

Shego held her breath, seeing the same intelligence in the creature's eyes as she'd seen in the T-Rex's before. But it apparently bore them no ill will as after regarding them for a moment it turned to head deeper into the forest, its small baby running at its feet. She sighed in relief, and turned to see Drakken looking almost as if he would cry.

"Come on, you big marshmallow, let's go."

"It was a baby triceratops, Shego! A baby triceratops! Do you understand what this means? The implications of this very island?"

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

As Shego walked back through the trees toward the river, Drakken began going on about theories being proven and dis-proven, and how the scientific community would be forever changed by the discoveries that could be made on the island. She couldn't help but smile at his excitement, but he stopped suddenly when they broke through the trees and saw the waterfall in its full glory.

The sun had begun to set, making the falls look like liquid fire as they thundered over the cliff and down to the blue of the river below. And then near the top of the fall, a ripple of purple shone through and broke the brilliant gold, and Shego realized that somehow the amethyst cave or perhaps another was also catching the sunlight.

Drakken seemed transfixed by the sight, and Shego's smile grew. It had been an adventure...but one she knew she would remember fondly.

"So..." she began, "let's say we strand Hench here as punishment, and then...in return for getting him out safely, he finances our new lair here."

Drakken did a double-take, his entire form brightening as he fully comprehended her words.

"You mean it? We can have a lair here?"

"Long as it's in a volcano."

Drakken let out a gleeful cackle and raised both fists triumphantly, recoiling slightly as pain arrested his left arm. But as they began walking along the river and in the direction of the hover-car, she knew he would be fine as his prattle about scientific discoveries changed to that of how everyone would soon fear 'Dr. Drakken, prehistoric menace.'

Shego grinned as she listened to his ideas. A T-Rex with a mounted laser cannon did sound like quite the idea.

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

Drakken ran his hands back over his head beneath the thin, sparkling falls, the water shimmering over his blue skin. And then he reached forward to set his hands on Shego's bare shoulders as she stepped under the fall to meet him, his fingers beginning to trail downward sending a thrill to her heart...

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

"Hey Boss? Miss Shego?"

Shego startled awake and sat up, hands ablaze. The startled henchmen recoiled with cries of fear, and the vision in Shego's mind started melting away as she took in her surroundings.

She was seated in the ruined hover-car, apparently snuggled up against Drakken's side where he was still asleep. In front of them stood three henchmen and not too far beyond, two more hover-cars sat parked. The sky around them indicated that twilight had fallen.

Shego's face flushed with embarrassment and she shoved Drakken hard.

"Wake up, you blue dolt. We're rescued."

Drakken let out an annoyed grunt as he was startled awake and likewise looked around them to gain his bearings. Shego moved away from his side and climbed out of the wreckage.

"Hey Boss, can we get going? Schwartz said that he saw a velociraptor, and even though I know dinosaurs are extinct I definitely saw something prowling around in the trees."

Drakken's confusion turned into a smirk as he climbed out of the hover-car and started toward one of the two rescue craft.

"Oh ye of little faith," he said, wagging a finger at the frightened trio. "While we haven't seen velociraptors, there are a great many species of dinosaurs on this island, where we shall be setting up our new lair inside of a month if all goes well. You know, there is a long-held belief that dinosaurs are in fact no more than the dragons of legend and ancient history..."

"Dinosaurs?"

"New lair?"

"But first," Shego interjected as she followed after Drakken, grateful for the distraction, "go kidnap Jack Hench and bring him back to the lair."

"R-Right away, Ma'am."

The three henchmen scurried toward the other waiting hover-car as Shego and Drakken stepped into theirs, Drakken pausing and looking at Shego in confusion.

"You don't want to get him yourself?"

Shego's face flushed, and she hoped the dim light would hide it.

"We can torture him later. I had something else on my mind..."

"Oh... What is it?" Drakken asked as he settled in behind the controls.

Shego made a show of yawning as she sat down. "I'm still tired. Can you set the auto-pilot?"

Drakken looked at her in confusion, but complied with the request as Shego settled in and with a race of her heart moved nearer to his side. He looked at her again in surprise, and she ignored the look as she reached down to her leg pouch to pull out the amethyst he'd given her. It looked different in the twilight, but no less magnificent as she turned it over in her hands.

"Thanks," she said, indicating the gem, and then yawned again before boldly leaning into his right side and setting her head on his shoulder where it had lain before.

Drakken tensed, and for a moment Shego wondered if she'd misread the gesture of the gift, and the looks he'd been giving her throughout the day. Or the way in which he'd snuggled nearer to her before when he thought she was asleep... But then he relaxed as he pressed the button to activate the autopilot, and Shego noticed the flush to his face when he leaned forward slightly. He took his left wrist out of the sling and settled comfortably against the back of the seat, and then hesitantly set his arm around her.

"Sh-Shego...?"

"So. Dragons?" she asked, giving him a soft smile.

His expression relaxed, and he began exhorting about some legend from the middle ages, gesticulating with both hands as he grew more animated doing so. Shego looked down at the gem she was turning over in her hands as her smile grew, and she settled her head back on his shoulder as the hover-car began taking them back home. The next time the dream came she would let it continue, and hoped that someday...it would become reality.

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taetaespeaches · 4 years

Text

“You know, in Casablanca he lets the girl go.”

yoongi x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 2.6K

a/n: Hi lovelies! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but some of my Yoongi fics are kind of based around the same couple, and this is a continuation of that. This drabble is how Yoongi and reader meet, which is briefly mentioned in my drabble, “You do know you’re not actually a grandpa, right, Min?”

In addition to it being their first meeting, this is also where Yoongi first calls reader, Kid. I hope you all enjoy and thank you so much for reading!

THE corner shop wasn’t very busy for it being mid-afternoon. Grabbing a bag of baby carrots from the produce section, you made your way through the store, humming the tune of “Sir Duke” by Stevie Wonder, which had been stuck in your head for a couple days.

You scanned the aisle descriptions, searching for the greeting card aisle. It was your best friend’s birthday and despite having gotten the present a month ago, you put off getting a card until the very night of her birthday.

Still humming, you stopped at the end of the greeting card aisle, briefly getting distracted by a display of chocolate bars. Looking over the different flavors, you settled for a plain milk chocolate one, picking it up as you hummed. Turning into the aisle, you noticed the man standing further down the passage, his eyes directed towards you as you halted your humming, your cheeks going red in slight embarrassment.

The man’s gaze lingered for a moment before he turned back to the cards, a small sigh sounding from him. Your eyes stayed on him as you slowly walked further into the aisle, closer to him. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest as he scrutinized the cards, his sneaker adorned foot pointed outward toward you.

His bleach blond hair was parted in the middle, tucked underneath a blue beanie. He sported a black and white striped turtleneck underneath a red and blue plaid button up with ripped light wash denim jeans. Most of his face was covered by a white face mask.

Reluctantly, you shifted your gaze from the man to the cards on display, searching for the categories to find birthday cards.

Transferring your bag of carrots to the other side of your body, tucking it in under your arm, you picked up a card. The front was hopeful, but when you flipped it open and read the inside, you physically cringed at the sentimental sap it contained.

“Jesus,” you huffed as you put it back. Leaning towards the cards, your eyes were squinted as you slowly scanned the options.

However, your mission to find a somewhat decent card was compromised when you noticed the man stepping closer to you, placing himself within arms distance as he stared at the cards. For some unknown reason, his proximity made your stomach flutter in nervous fancy.

With him so close, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at him, taking in his side profile. With the mask on, most of his features were concealed, but you were fascinated by the triangular shape of his eyes, appearing almost catlike. Do I know him? You thought, the longer you looked at him.

All but gawking at the poor man, he must have felt your peering eyes as he slowly turned his face toward you, making you panic, your eyes snapping back to the card display and picking up the first one your eyes landed on.

You swore you could hear the man chuckle underneath his mask as he slowly looked back to the cards himself. As you pretended to read the card, the man next to you sucked in some air through his teeth, almost sounding like disappointment or frustration.

Distracted by your embarrassment of being caught staring at the stranger, you didn’t feel the carrots slipping from your arm. When the bag fell to the floor with a thud, the man was quick to casually scoop them up, coolly tucking the bag back between your arm and your body before you could even react.

“Sorry, thank you,” you mumbled quietly, the man nodding in response, casting his eyes to the cards rather than you.

“Of course,” he spoke through his facemask. Something about him was very familiar but you couldn’t place it. A few more seconds of silence went by before he spoke up again. “Was that Sir Duke? Earlier,” he asked.

“Hmm?” You asked, snapping your head in his direction to meet his amused eyes. “Oh, yeah,” you nodded, looking back at the cards as he nodded as well.

“A bop,” you said quietly.

A small chuckle left the man’s lips making you smile in response. “What kind of card are you looking for?” He asked as he reached for one.

“Oh, a birthday card for my best friend,” you told him. He cast his eyes to the card in your hands that read So sorry for your loss. “Mm,” you hummed, holding back a laugh at the realization you were holding a sympathy card. “She hates birthdays,” you explained as you tapped your fingers against the card, the man letting out the cutest breathy laugh that made his shoulders shake.

“She must,” he quipped, putting the card he had looked at back. “When’s her birthday?” He asked, his eyes staying on the cards.

“Today,” you replied, wondering if you should defend your procrastination by explaining you’d had the present for a month. Before you could share your defense, he cast his gaze to you.

“Looks like quite the party,” he nodded towards the carrots and chocolate bar you held.

Looking down in confusion, you took a moment to realize he was talking about the two random items you held. “Oh these?” You met his eyes for the first time without either of you looking away nearly immediately. “Please, I’m not sharing this with her,” you grinned. “Do I look like the kind of girl who shares her baby carrots?”

At that, the man stood up a little straighter, his eyes crinkled at the corners making you want to see the corresponding smile underneath the mask. As if reading your mind, he pulled it down to rest underneath his chin, flashing you the most amazing smile, gummy, sweet, and adorable.

I know this guy, you thought as you registered his face, just trying to figure out where exactly you knew him from. “You know, it’s more difficult than you’d think,” he started, “to figure out who would share their baby carrots and who wouldn’t. You know, simply by looking at them that is.”

You bit back your ever-growing smile as you cocked your head at him. “Is that so?”

Nodding, he looked back at the cards. “You almost gotta get to know a person before you can just go around assuming they will or won’t share,” he said, an even bigger smile spreading across his face.

You allowed yourself to laugh at the silliness of the conversation before you put the sympathy card back. “What about you?”

“What, do I share my baby carrots?” He asked, flashing you a grin.

“No,” you smiled, a blush meeting your cheeks. “I am of the opinion that you can tell who would and wouldn’t share their baby carrots just by looking at them. Therefore, I don’t need to ask you that. I meant what kind of card are you looking for?” You asked him.

He flashed you an intrigued look, his eyes searching your face before he answered. “Ah, my friend is working on a pretty big solo project right now, I thought I might bring him something to congratulate him. I thought maybe a card?” He said while simultaneously asking for you thoughts.

“Oh, good for him,” you responded, looking around for the congratulation cards.

“Do people actually like cards anymore?” He asked as you quirked an eyebrow.

“Um, I hope so,” you giggled. “If not, I really fucked this birthday gift.”

The man’s shoulders shook again as that same breathy chuckle sounded from between his lips. Wow, that laugh is brilliant.

“No, yeah, I think people like cards still,” you returned to his question. “What’s better than getting a card with a handwritten message just for you. Whether for your birthday, or for one of your successes,” you gestured to the man, referring to his friend. “It’s special,” you shrugged.

A soft smile overtook the man’s features as he nodded once in either understanding or agreement. God, where do I know him from? Have we met before?

“I’m sorry,” you started, “You just look so familiar, have we met before or something? I apologize if I forgot, I’m not the best with faces,” you explained. “Or names really.”

There was a noticeable shift in his demeanor in response to your question, making your stomach churn in regret for whatever you said wrong.

“Uh, no, I don’t believe we’ve met,” he told you as he pulled his mask back over his face. The gesture felt like needles pricked your heart as it appeared he was hiding himself behind the mask.

In an attempt to return the easy-going banter you two had started to fall into, you grabbed the same sympathy card from before as well as the corresponding envelope. “Fuck it,” you shrugged, “she’s getting a sympathy card.”

The man’s head shifted the side as he let out a small giggle, a different laugh from before but just as cute.

“I think she’ll like it,” he responded, relief flooding your body at the sound of his voice. “It’ll at least give her a laugh.”

You nodded, looking at him as he allowed his gaze to find yours. “What’s inside is what matters anyway, right?” The man stared at you gently, his eyes full of curiosity and thought as he finally gave you a single nod. Cute.

It was at that moment that you placed where you knew him from. He was right, you had never met him before, but you had seen his face many times. Suddenly, the guard the man kept up made sense. It must be scary letting people in, never knowing their intentions. You observed the man for a moment, taking in how beautiful his eyes were. They were deep, wise, soulful. He was definitely guarded, you could tell that, but you knew discovering the real him would be worth the effort and time.

Breaking eye contact, you leaned towards the cards. “Ok, for your card,” you started as you scanned through the congratulatory ones. “How about.. this one,” you pulled one out and held it out for the both of you to look at.

The front of the card said a simple, “Congratulations!” with balloons. Opening the card, you both read the message, “Hard work, determination, perseverance, you are a rock star!”

“Ugh,” he groaned in disgust. “Rock star?”

Giggling, you pulled the card out of his reach so he couldn’t put it back. “Hey, I think it’s sweet,” you told him. “What, you never call your friends rock stars?” He rolled his eyes at you, showing the first little bit of his sassiness, and you couldn’t help but think you would love to see just how sassy this man could get.

“It doesn’t really matter what the card says, it just matters what you write inside. That’s the part your friend will care about,” you told him, making him raise his eyebrows.

“You’re a wise one, aren’t you,” he told you, his eyes crinkling, a smile hidden behind the mask.

You simply shrugged, beginning to walk down the aisle, the man coming with you, your arms bumping against each other’s.

As you both checked out, you with your three items, and him with his one, you kept stealing glances at each other, each of you sporting shy smiles, though you still couldn’t see his.

Exiting the store, you stood in front of each other, not knowing what to say but not wanting to walk away from each other.

Yoongi looked to the ground shyly and you could tell he was mulling over his options. Before he could overthink too much, you decided to break the silence.

“I have to be upfront with you,” you started nervously, not wanting to hide anything from him. He looked at you with widened eyes. “It took me a bit to figure out how I know you, but I finally made the connection in there. I don’t know, I just thought I should tell you that,” you finished worriedly, not sure how he would react.

Yoongi’s eyes scanned your features, pausing on your eyes as he studied you. He must have picked up on your nervousness, because he shook his head seemingly dismissing your concerns.

“You know of me, but you don’t know me,” he told you, holding his hand out for you to shake. “I’m Yoongi.”

There was that relief again, rushing through you as you reached your hand out. When your hand touched his, the relief was replaced with electricity, lighting you up. You told him your name, and he repeated it cutely.

“I would like to know you, Yoongi,” you told him, your cheeks heating up the longer he watched you, Yoongi’s tongue swiping over his lips as he intently listened. “I’m going to ask you out, but I don’t want your answer now.”

Yoongi continued staring at you in silence as he awaited your next words, intrigue and confusion swirling around his orbs.

“Are you free tomorrow morning?” You asked him, a bashful smile meeting Yoongi’s lips as he shyly touched his ear, nodding his head. “Ok, so if you want to get to know each other, meet me here tomorrow morning at 8:30. There’s no pressure, if one of us doesn’t show up, there’s no hard feelings.”

Yoongi’s eyes crinkled, and you once again wished you could see the gummy smile. Yoongi simply nodded before telling you, “Ok. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

You nodded, both of you giving each other an awkward wave before you turned around and started walking away, a dull ache in your chest. With every step you took, the ache became more prominent as the fact that you may never see Yoongi again made itself more present in your mind.

You almost looked back. And then…

“Hey,” Yoongi called out to you, halting your steps as you eagerly spun around to see he was already walking toward you. “What do you think? Am I the type of person who shares my carrots or not?”

Smiling widely, you looked down at your bag of carrots as Yoongi appeared right in front of you, within arm’s reach. Tearing open the bag, you held it out to him. “I think you’re like me,” you started, Yoongi’s eyes on the bag before they flickered up to your face. “You just have to trust a person, and once you do, you’ll give them all your carrots.”

Yoongi laughed, a completely different laugh from his other two, this one much fuller and less inhibited than the others. You gestured to the bag, silently telling him to take a carrot. Shaking his head, he reached his long fingers inside the bag and pulled out two carrots, offering one to you.

Pulling down his face mask, he flashed you that beautiful smile you were convinced you would never get used to. “Here’s looking at you, Kid,” he told you, tapping his carrot against the one between your fingers before bringing it to his mouth to take a bite as he started walking backwards away from you.

“Yoongi, was that a Casablanca reference?” you asked in pleasant surprise as you began walking backwards as well, Yoongi smiling widely with a shrug. “You know, in Casablanca he lets the girl go,” you told him with a smirk. “Is this gonna end up being a, we’ll always have Paris scenario? We’ll always have the corner market,” you teased, gesturing to the little store.

Yoongi shook his head, biting his lip to conceal his growing grin. “I’m no Humphrey Bogart,” he told you. “I’ll meet you here tomorrow, Kid,” he assured with a big smile. And with that, he had turned around and started walking in the opposite direction as you. You watched him for a moment before turning around as well, making your way towards your friend’s apartment.

“Kid,” you whispered to yourself. I could get used to that.

712 notes · View notes

ranger-report · 4 years

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Theory: No One Is Real In Silent Hill 2

At last, for October, I present a Fan Theory nearly twenty years in the making. I’ve been thinking long and hard about this presentation, and for a moment nearly broke it up into a bunch of smaller posts. But where’s the fun in that? So below I present in its thirty-page entirety (I KNOW I’M SO SORRY) the idea that James Sunderland is the only physically “real” human in Silent Hill 2, and that everyone else is a manifestation created by the town. It’s a long, long, detailed long post, so if you’re here for it you have my thanks in advance. Go pee and get something to snack on.

Welcome to Silent Hill!

***

In the world of video games, true genre-defining experiences come few and far between. Often these benchmark releases inspire waves of imitators: some capture the spark of what made these masterpieces so memorable, most end up as cash grabs on a popular genre. Few games have inspired such imitation as the Silent Hill series. Provocative, psychological, and unafraid to tackle controversial content, the series is renowned for preying on player expectations, toying with perceptions of space and time and awareness. Many lesser games have made an attempt at reproducing the same magic, including later games in the same series.

Silent Hill 2 is singled out by fans and critics to be the best of the bunch. Hailed as one of the scariest games of all time, the story tackles the subjects of abuse (both emotional and physical), grief, and punishment. It does so in a very uniquely Silent Hill manner, in which nothing is real, and every step the player takes moves them closer to an abyss of terror. Developed by Team Silent, the group that created the first four titles in the series, Silent Hill 2 is categorized as a “survival horror” game, and the primary means of gameplay is that of tense combat with heavy emphasis on exploration and puzzle solving. Combat is by no means a “run and gun” escapade – the protagonist generally has a variety of melee weapons like a wood plank or a tire iron, and relatively few guns. Ammunition is sparse and requires constant management; the game recommends avoiding as many enemies as possible. Meanwhile, puzzles are mostly logic-based, involving riddles, the combining of objects to create a key, and choosing the proper item for the proper spot. The atmosphere is oppressively claustrophobic, even in its outdoor environments. Truly, this is an experience that is designed to make the player feel alone and isolated.

Despite this, Silent Hill 2 features a memorable cast; each character has distinct motivations and reasons for their journey to the town, but each person is also shrouded in mystery. After all, their purpose is not to tell their stories, but to enhance the journey of the protagonist. While at first it seems a given that these characters are all real – and they are presented as such – it is my belief that they are, in fact, manifestations of the town in order to provide extra torment for the protagonist, and also represent one of the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. This is a bit of a difficult pill to swallow at first glance, but the evidence is present throughout the game.

Before we dive into the reasons for this theory, let's first examine the story and setting of the game itself, in order to make sense of what is to come.

In my restless dreams, I see that town:

Silent Hill.

You promised you'd take me there again someday, but you never did.

Well, I'm alone there, now. In our “special place.”

Waiting for you.

-- Mary Shepard-Sunderland

In the opening of Silent Hill 2, James Sunderland reads these words, the beginning of a letter sent to him by his wife Mary. This is, of course, an impossible letter, as James quietly states that Mary has been dead for years, victim of a terminal illness. And yet, despite knowing this, James has come to the town of Silent Hill in order to understand how such an impossible letter could exist, and whether or not his late wife could truly be waiting for his arrival. For both the player and for James, this is an ominous way to begin the journey. Players familiar with the series will already know that the titular town conjures scenarios and creatures based on the psyche of the individuals in the town, making them see what it wants them to see. Those with, say, guilty consciences will see monsters and demons – innocents will only see an empty town. James, meanwhile, despite knowing full well that Mary is quite dead, is far too curious to understand what's going on here.

James begins his journey at a rest stop off the highway, above the town itself. This is the clearest view of the surroundings the game will give us until near the end. Forestry, tall trees, and waves of fog between them can be seen, with a large lake in the background beyond the town. Leaving the rest stop, James – and the player – is forced to walk a long path from the rest stop to the town, a full twenty minutes in-game. On all sides, the fog grows thicker, and the sounds of mysterious wildlife roaming the woods can be heard. As James enters the outskirts of Silent Hill, he cuts through a cemetery off the main road. Here he surprises Angela Orosco, who is sitting in front of a headstone, lost in thought. Immediately presented as anxious, cautious, stuttering and shy, Angela is a nineteen-year-old who claims to be searching for her mother – someone she accidentally refers to as “Mama” before correcting her choice of words to “Mother.” James tells her that he's looking for someone also, admitting that she may or may not be there. When he asks Angela if he's headed in the right direction of the town, Angela attempts to warn him off, saying that there's something wrong with the town, that he doesn't want to go there. James cuts her off, stating that he doesn't care if it's dangerous or not.

Returning to his quest, James finally enters Silent Hill. Here the fog is at its thickest, and the streets are clearly abandoned and in disrepair. James, thinking he sees someone walking through the fog in the distance, diverts course until he comes to a small construction site. A radio, blaring odd static, lies beside a dead body. James, cautiously, goes inside to pick it up, and turns around to face a strange, warped creature that looks like a shapeless human wrapped in a straitjacket made of flesh. In self-defense, James grabs a plank of wood and is forced to beat the creature to death. As he leaves, he thinks he hears Mary's voice coming from the radio, but the words can't be made out. He continues on. Now more of these creatures are walking along the streets, shuffling, shuddering, spewing acid from their gaping mouths if he gets too close. James can fight, or he can run, but out here where the enemies are multiple and fast, running is the best course of action.

James understands that his first objective is to reach Rosewater Park, where he and Mary shared an intimate moment during their vacation. But the streets have been cut off, so he decides to cut through the Wood Side Apartments. Inside it is dark, strange, and full of noises off-camera that exists solely to set James and the player on edge. In the apartment complex, he sees a key resting on the other side of some gated bars, which looks like it might be the one he needs to cross from one building to the next. As he attempts to reach through for it, an eight-year-old little girl appears out of nowhere. She kicks the key away and stomps on James's hand, laughing as she disappears into the darkness. This is the first living person James has seen in the town proper, and she has essentially made his life more difficult.

More creatures haunt the hallways of the apartment complex, including one that James sees standing on the opposite side of what look like prison bars in the middle of a hall. Tall, wearing a red triangular helmet and a flesh butcher's smock, this creature is called “Pyramid Head.” For now it merely stands opposite James, staring at him motionlessly. Later on, James will encounter Pyramid Head again, this time as it appears to be sexually assaulting another of the monsters. Hiding, James is forced to shoot at Pyramid Head with a gun he found in the apartments until it leaves on its own.

While searching through the apartment complex, James enters a room to discover Angela lying on the floor in front of a full-length mirror, holding a kitchen knife. As she gazes at the knife longingly, James tries to talk her out of whatever it is she's thinking of doing, stating that there's “always another way.” Angela's response is to compare the two of them, noting that it's easier to run away from their problems. She speaks in slow, exhausted tones, a stark difference from the stuttering hesitance of their earlier encounter. “Besides,” she concludes, still staring at the knife, “it's what we deserve.” James denies this, startled by the implication that he would consider such a way out. They continue to talk, James calmly and confidently holding Angela's attention, before they both admit to each other that neither of them have found the people they're looking for. James lets slip that he wouldn't be able to find his wife anyway since she's dead, which causes Angela to become nervous and animated again, and she gets up to leave. James says that they should go together since her warning about the town proved to be true, but she rejects the offer, claiming she'd only slow down his progress. James asks what she's going to do with the knife. Hesitating, Angela asks if James will hold on to it for her, that she's unsure what she'll do if she takes it with her. But when James reaches forward to accept the knife Angela screams and holds it out in defense. Surprised, James backs away as Angela has a near-breakdown, claiming that she's sorry and that she's “been bad.” She quickly sets down the knife and leaves the room in a flustered rush. James takes the knife, and it is worth noting that the knife cannot be used as a weapon in game, only as an item to be examined in his inventory.

James enters one of the apartments to discover Eddie, a portly twenty-something in an ill-fitting polo shirt and backwards cap, hunched over a toilet, violently throwing up. Eddie found a corpse inside of a fridge out in the living room after being chased in by some of the monsters, and a panicked Eddie became nauseous at the sight of it. In a difficult-to-stomach cutscene, Eddie continues to vomit while James talks to him. Eddie adamantly proclaims his innocence in regards to the dead body, claiming that he “didn't do it” and that he's not from Silent Hill. James, oddly, continues to converse with Eddie calmly, as though he's ignoring the man's explosive vomit. He asks if Eddie knows Pyramid Head. Confused, Eddie says he doesn't know what that is, only that he's seen some monsters that have freaked him out thus far. James infers that something brought Eddie to Silent Hill, but that whatever it is, he should try to leave town as soon as possible. Both men tell each other to be careful before James leaves Eddie to finish his business.

After several puzzles and strange occurrences, James is confronted by Pyramid Head, who is now wielding a huge knife that it has to drag behind it. Forced into a narrow room, the player must guide James back and forth, avoiding Pyramid Head's slow attacks, while shooting round after precious round into the beast. Eventually, an air raid siren can be heard in the distance; Pyramid Head descends a set of stairs that are submerged underwater, leaving James to his fate. The water drains, James follows – and the monster is gone.

Leaving the apartments, James finds the little girl who kicked him in an alley out back, perched on a high wall. Her name is Laura. She's precocious, bratty, and stubborn. James tries to get her to come with him, since there are monsters running around that could hurt her, but it seems as though Laura doesn't see the monsters. During their chat, she tells James that he “didn't love Mary,” and refuses to answer any other questions before running away into the fog.

As very confused James continues through Silent Hill, he arrives at Rosewater Park, hoping that this is where he will find Mary. But instead, James finds Maria, a woman who resembles Mary so much that he notes that she could be her twin. Yet Maria quickly establishes her stark difference from Mary. First, with her clothing: where the game shows images of Mary wearing a conservative pink cardigan and long skirt, Maria wears a revealing purple top and leopard print miniskirt. Her walk is sultry, her demeanor flirtatious, and her gaze holds a mischievous “come hither” look. Even her hair shows the change: where Mary had a darker auburn hue, Maria clearly has bleached hair, her brown roots prominent, a tint of red at the tips. James, taken aback by how different this woman is from his wife, at first decides to leave her be. But Maria quickly requests to come along with, wondering aloud if he was going to just leave her alone in a town surrounded by monsters. Guiltily, James tries to avoid this, but surrenders to letting her tag along. She asks if there's another place that Mary could be, and he realizes that they had stayed at the Lakeview Hotel, on an island in the middle of Toluca Lake. Together, the two of them set off to find a way there.

As the player guides James through the town, Maria follows at a decently close pace. Not quite as fast as James, but not so slow that she can't keep up. The artificial intelligence designed for Maria allows the player to not worry if Maria is nearby or not when running from or fighting monsters. In other games, the mechanics would force the player to worry about their companions, but not so Maria; she always catches up, and no matter how far away she is when James goes through a door into a new environment, Maria is immediately waiting on the other side. This ties in to the theme of Maria needing James to take care of her in the story.

Discovering that the highway leading out of town towards the docks has sunken into the earth, James turns around to seek out alternate means of getting to the hotel. Searching through the town, he comes across the Bowl-O-Rama, and decides to go inside just in case he can find any supplies worth taking along. Maria, notably, refuses to go with, stating that she hates bowling and would prefer to remain outside for him.

Inside, James hears two voices talking to each other: Laura, and Eddie. The scene cuts away from James, and focuses instead on these two characters. This is significant in that this is the only time in the game where two people who are not James are having a conversation, and their topic is significant. Laura mocks Eddie's weight, calling him a “gutless fatso,” and asks why he's running away from the police, why he can't just apologize for what he's done. Somehow he's gotten hold of some pizza, which he gladly eats while Laura sits beside him. Eddie states that he would never be forgiven for his transgressions, and continues eating. Laura mocks him for being a coward. Again, this is tellingly the only conversation in the game that James is not a part of, nor does it exist for his benefit in the game. It's only for the player to see and understand.

After this cutscene, James enters the bowling alley and finds Eddie. He asks Eddie if he's alone, which Eddie cautiously admits that he isn't. Laura rolls a bowling ball their way to get their attention, which causes James to see her briefly as she leaves the building. James tries to get Eddie to follow, but he declines, stating that Laura already said she was fine on her own, and that she claimed “a fatso like me would only slow her down.” James, in disgust, says, “Forget you!” before chasing after Laura. Outside, Maria tells James that she saw Laura headed towards the hospital, and they shouldn't leave her alone with the town being the way it is.

James follows Laura to Brookhaven Hospital at Maria's behest, and after Maria stops to rest in one of the rooms he goes on alone. Maria, it should be noted, has claimed to be hungover, but has developed a nasty cough and is taking pills from a prescription bottle. James, pressing on, eventually discovers the little girl playing with teddy bears. Laura is at first shocked to see James, but he assures her he is friendly and isn't going to hurt her or be angry. He just wants to know how she knows Mary. Laura, it turns out, shared a hospital room and nurse with Mary – only the week before. Hearing this, James shouts that Laura is a liar, which she brusquely receives, but she claims that there's something for James from Mary in the hospital and leads him to another room. Once inside, James finds himself locked in with a group of monsters hanging from the ceiling, tricked by Laura. James is knocked unconscious and awakens in an alternate form of the hospital to find Maria.

Maria is less than pleased that he left her alone, demanding comfort as she runs into his arms. But their reunion is short lived: as they attempt to flee the hospital, Pyramid Head appears and pursues them down a narrow corridor that leads to an elevator. James makes it, but the doors shut before Maria can get inside too. She is able to reach her arm in and flails for help as Pyramid Head stabs her to death. Grief stricken at watching Maria die, the woman who looks exactly like his late wife, James sees Laura running away through the front window, he decides to push himself onward. It's telling that as he exits the hospital, the town has changed from day to night, enveloped now in darkness as well as fog. After leaving the hospital, James attempts to find a way to cross Toluca Lake to get to Lakeview Hotel on a nearby island and find the last potential “special place.” In doing so, he discovers a hidden entrance to a strange underground prison beneath the Silent Hill Historical Society. Before this, however, James finds a painting in the historical society of an executioner surrounded by bodies in cages – the executioner looks exactly like Pyramid Head.

After a terrifying descent through impossible spaces – vertical hallways, vast drops into abyss-like blackness – James emerges into the underground prison. Eddie, somehow, is there as well. However, his aloof demeanor has been replaced with a chilling lack of empathy. Sitting on the ground brandishing a revolver, Eddie flinches as James shines his flashlight on him. He proceeds to smile vacantly, stating, “Killing a person ain't no big deal. Just put the gun to their head – pow!” He mimes shooting himself in the head as he does this. Lying on the table beside Eddie is a dead body with a head wound; Eddie claims it wasn't his fault, that the person was looking at him funny. James tries to rationalize with Eddie, telling him he can't just kill someone because of how they look at him. Visibly confused, Eddie asks why not, before continuing to reminisce about a “stupid dog” who'd also had it coming. After this, Eddie chuckles nervously, claiming everything he said was all just a joke, and that he needs to get going. As Eddie opens a door to go deeper into the prison, James asks, “You're going out there alone?” Eddie replies enthusiastically, “Yeah.”

Questing through the prison, James is shocked to discover Maria sitting on a chair inside one of the cells. Confused, James tries to speak to her, but her demeanor is odd: she talks about things that only Mary would know, including a videotape the two of them made together while at Lakeview Hotel. Stunned, James asks if she's actually Maria, to which she brusquely responds, “I'm not your Mary.” She implies a sexual reward if James finds a way around to unlock the cell, but by the time he discovers this path, Maria's body is on the cell's bed, bloodied, dead once again. Struggling with this, James forces himself to move on.

Angela appears in the prison labyrinth as well. Walking through a hallway, James finds scattered newspapers all over the ground, and if examined, reveal a news story about a lumberjack named Thomas Orosco, found with his throat slit in his own house. Moving onward, James hears Angela's voice scream: “Daddy! Please! No!” Rushing through a nearby doorway, James comes across a terrifying sight. Before him is a room made of fleshy material, with a television and makeshift furniture. Lining the walls are mechanical pistons which pump constantly and out of sync with each other. Angela is on her back, desperately trying to get away from a monster. Unlike anything else seen up until now, the monster resembles a person lying on top of another person in a bed, covered by a topsheet of flesh, and a twisted mouth emerging from the front. It shuffles forward on two legs with insidious humping movement. According to the game, this monster is called the “Abstract Daddy.”

James protects Angela and kills the monster; once this is done, Angela leaps to her feet, kicking the creature over and over before picking up the television and crashing it down on the Abstract Daddy, finishing it off. James tells her she can relax, but she screams at him, telling him not to tell her what to do. She accuses him of only wanting “one thing,” and that if he does, he should just force her and beat her, “like he used to do.” As she says this last part, she points at the dead Abstract Daddy, and breaks down, crying and dry heaving. When James tries to comfort her, she pushes him away, saying he makes her sick. She calls him a liar for claiming that Mary died from her illness. Departing with a sneer, she implies that James probably wanted to be with someone else.

Eddie's final appearance comes just before the end of the prison. James enters a cold storage room to discover Eddie standing over yet another dead body, but his mood here has deepened into something far more morose and morbid. James asks if Eddie killed this man as well; Eddie starts to shout about how it was deserved, how the man always called him a fat piece of shit, among other instances of verbal abuse. “It doesn't matter whether you're smart, dumb, ugly, pretty, it's all the same once you're dead!” Eddie shouts, concluding that “a corpse can't laugh.” James asks if Eddie has gone nuts; Eddie decides that James is just like everyone else, laughing at him behind his back, and points his gun at James. The player takes over, forced to fight Eddie, and after a few minutes of action Eddie retreats deeper into the meat locker.

The next room where Eddie has retreated is dark, foggy with cold air, and full of large meat slabs hanging from the ceiling. The meats are all wearing pants with suspenders. James proceeds cautiously as Eddie taunts him from the shadows. Eddie asks James if he understands how it feels to be made fun of just for how he looks. Eddie continues, ranting about how he'd shot a dog because it taunted him, before shooting the owner – his personal bully – in the knee. He laughs about how difficult it would be for the man to play football after that. James tries to tell Eddie that he needs help if he thinks it's okay to kill people, to which Eddie scoffs, telling James that the two of them are the same. After all, he says, Silent Hill called to James as well.

Eddie pops out of the shadows, and the player takes over for another battle. This time, once enough hits are landed, James kills Eddie. Once Eddie has fallen, James rushes over to his dead body, and shows remorse, shameful that he's killed a human being. From here, James leaves the prison and finds a dock with a rowboat waiting outside. He uses it to cross Toluca Lake and get to the hotel.

Startled in the hotel lobby by a loud noise, James finds Laura at a grand piano, having just struck a loud chord to get James's attention. Here they finally have a conversation about their purpose: Laura is here to try and find Mary based on a letter that Mary left for the girl, in which Mary says she's sorry for leaving and is in a beautiful place now. Mistaking this to mean she is in Silent Hill, Laura has come here to find Mary. Also of note in the letter is that Mary tells Laura not to hate James for being “surly” and for not visiting the hospital much, claiming that James is very sweet deep down. Mary specifically says that she had hoped to adopt Laura. James, learning Laura's age and recent interaction with Mary, is forced to admit that Mary couldn't have been dead for three years, and in fact may still be alive.

Upstairs however, James discovers the room he and Mary shared, as well as their videotape. It's a home video of a sickly Mary saying how much she loves Silent Hill before succumbing to a coughing fit. The image changes to one of Mary lying in bed; James leans over her, kisses her forehead, and then smothers her to death. It's this point in the game where both James and the player are confronted with the truth. All around the hotel there have been various video and audio cues that imply the nature of James and Mary's relationship during her final days: a tense, abusive atmosphere in which Mary constantly lashed out at James in anger due to her own negative self-worth, only to adopt a pleading, loving tone after fighting. James, bitter from years of slow decay and sexual frustration, opted to end Mary's pain. Was it a selfish act, or an altruistic one? The story leaves that to the player to decide. James is shown to be in torment over his actions, the memory of which he either repressed on his own or was altered by the powers of the town.

Contemplating the truth of his repressed memories after viewing it, James is found by Laura. He confesses his actions to the girl. Laura screams at James that she hates him, wanting to know why he did it, demanding James bring Mary back, telling James he never really did care about Mary. Filled with sorrow, James can only tell Laura that he's sorry, and that the Mary she's looking for isn't here. Laura leaves without another word. James is spurred on to keep searching for Mary when he hears her voice come from the final, static-filled moments of the video tape, calling for him, saying she's waiting.

Angela's final appearance is in the Lakeview Hotel. James enters a hallway that is engulfed in flames – something odd as the previous area had not been. Angela is here, standing at the bottom of a staircase, staring up into the fire that is consuming the hotel above her. At first she confuses James for her mother, and Angela is excited to see him before realizing that who she's seeing isn't real. She apologizes and thanks him for saving her before, but wishes that he hadn't actually done so. She says that her mother had told her once that she deserved the things that had been done to her, and when James refutes that, Angela simply asks for him not to pity her. After all, she says, what is he going to do? Love her? Take care of her? James doesn't answer. “That's what I thought,” Angela replies. She then holds out her hand and demands her knife back. James, showing genuine care for her, says he won't. She accuses him of holding onto it so he can use it, but James states that he would never kill himself. Hanging her head in sadness, Angela turns and begins to walk up the staircase, fire burning up part of the stairs behind her, effectively cutting off James from following. “It's hot as hell in here,” James muses. Angela's final words are, “You see it, too? For me, it's always like this.” Then she turns and ascends into the inferno.

Leaving the hotel, James finds a room with not one, but two Pyramid Heads, each holding a long spear. Maria is suspended upside-down on a rack, begging for James to help her, but the Pyramid Heads execute her in front of him. Up til now, James has slowly found more and more evidence of the town having supernatural properties, of the myths and legends surrounding it. Realizing that his entire journey has been placed before him by the town, he admits to his need for punishment and faces down the Pyramid Heads. Knowing that their purpose is complete, both Pyramid Heads execute themselves. James then climbs to the top of the hotel to discover one of two outcomes: Mary or Maria, waiting for his arrival. And, depending on his actions during the game, his ultimate fate.

This is an exploration of the psyche unlike any in gaming. Each place he visits holds clues to what is happening both to the town and to his fragile psyche, in the form of strange creatures and the humans he meets. At the end of his quest, James discovers that he has been searching for punishment for his actions this entire time, which has been granted by the strange power of the town itself. Established in the previous game, the town of Silent Hill has the ability to warp reality around those who are drawn towards it, people who are usually tormented by something horrific in their past. How this can be so is never really explained, only hinted at, particularly with the information that the land used to be a sacred place to native tribes that used to inhabit it. Previously, it had manifested a scenario based on the pain and suffering of a powerful psychic girl who been horribly burned as part of a ritual of the town cult. In this scenario, the Silent Hill has taken James's need for punishment and provided it tenfold, but because James is unsure of exactly what he feels he deserves, it also provides multiple angles with which to torture him. Even the outcome of the game itself is open-ended; based on the player's actions during the story, one of four endings will commence with a finale befitting James's decisions. None of the endings are considered the “true” ending by the developers, leaving players to define for themselves what should – or should not – happen to James. These decisions are based solely on items and characters James interacts with. Each decision is subtle, never overt, and first playthroughs often end with James leaving the town in peace. But each finale is very specific, and I believe is represented by each of the four characters James meets in the town.

MARIA

If, during the course of the game, the player has James spent significant time with Maria – including returning to the rooms she's either sleeping in or being held in to check on her – and if the player is careful to ensure Maria takes no damage from the monsters of the town, James will get the “Maria” ending, which is one of two endings that directly relate to one of the other characters.

This is the only ending in which James actually finds Mary at the top of the hotel. Realizing that he'd rather be with Maria now, he confronts Mary. Angered that he's choosing a lesser woman, Mary transforms into a monster, forcing James to kill her in response. After he does, he returns to Rosewater Park where he first met Maria, to embrace her once more and leave town together. As they walk back to James's car, the rest of Mary's letter is read aloud: Mary details her sadness at her stay in hospice care, her sorrow for being so terrible and mean towards James, and assuring him that their relationship was something she'd cherished over the years. She assures James that he had made her happy, and for James to live for himself and do what he needs to do to live.

After the letter is read, James and Maria arrive at his car. She begins to cough, much in the same way the player has seen Mary coughing in flashbacks. Ominously, James has this to say: “You'd better get that looked at.”

Through the events of the game, it is heavily implied that Maria is a construct of the town's powers, an idealized version of what James had wished Mary had been. Despite sensing this, James still chooses her in this ending. After his initial quest to find Mary, James, it seems, did not hold enough devotion to his late wife to see it through to the end. Knowing now that she's dead and gone and that nothing can bring her back, he has resorted to bargaining. He spent so long during Mary's sickness frustrated at being unable to have his life, that with the attractive option of Maria he has once again taken an easier way out – a way that he feels he deserves to have. “What if,” he must think, “I can have the Mary I always wanted without having to deal with Mary's death?” Yet, with the final moments foreshadowing a similar fate for Maria as Mary had, it seems as though the town is not as merciful as it might appear.

What further fleshes out this idea is a bonus chapter for the game that initially only came with the XBOX version before being added to the PlayStation rerelease. Titled “Born From A Wish,” the player assumes the role of Maria before she meets up with James at Rosewater Park. During the short chapter, Maria comes to understand that she was created for a single purpose: to try and entice James into being with her. She wrestles with this notion, even going so far as to put a gun to her head as her only option of getting out. After all, what if he rejects her? Will she be forced to stay in this town forever if that's the case? Finally, Maria accepts her fate and her purpose, and she begins her walk towards the park to meet James.

With the confirmation that Maria was manifested by the town in accordance with James's unconscious desires – even going so far as to reveal that Maria's look was based on a dancer at the local club Heaven's Night – this now opens the door to the possibility that the other characters in the game have also been manifested by the town to aid in James's torment. What's different about Maria is that it is explicitly stated in the game that she was created by the town, where it is naturally assumed by the player that the other characters are in fact real, and have been called to the town for various reasons.

Now that we have some details of the plot and the understanding of how these manifestations work out of the way, let's focus on the individual details of the other characters in the game.

LAURA

In many ways, Laura is a metaphorical hook on the town's fishing pole, bating James into going deeper into the town to discover the truth behind Mary's letter.

After viewing the videotape in the hotel, Laura is not seen again unless the player achieves the “Leave” ending. There are a few key actions one must take in order to get this. First, the player must examine the letter from Mary that James has been carrying since the beginning of the game. This item stays in James's inventory during the whole game, and can be examined multiple times, as it should be to ensure this ending. It's worth noting the fact that, late in the game, examining the note again reveals a blank piece of paper; there never was a letter written by Mary asking James to come to Silent Hill. He made it up in his head. Or, perhaps it was the town's influence.

James must also keep his health meter high throughout the course of the game, consuming items to keep his health from going too low, demonstrating a desire to live. Also necessary for this ending is listening to a lengthy conversation between Mary and James – a memory – that plays as James walks through a long hallway towards the rooftop. It's mostly dialogue from Mary; she is heard yelling at James for bringing her flowers, claiming to be disgusting after the effects of the disease and the medication keeping her alive, shouting at him to go away, that it would be better for her if the doctors just killed her. Then, the turn: crying, Mary begs James to stay with her instead, to tell her that everything will be okay. The player can ignore this conversation if they run quickly through the hall before the dialogue is finished, but in order to get the “Leave” ending, they need to listen to the whole audio. After fulfilling these tasks, James has demonstrated his devotion to Mary and his remorse for killing her.

When he reaches the hotel rooftop, he discovers Maria dressed as Mary, and he confronts her, telling her he doesn't need her anymore. She transforms into a monster and James is forced to kill her. In the cinematic that follows, James finds himself in Mary's sick room. Mary tells him that she wanted the pain to end and James tells her that's why he killed her, to take away her suffering. But, he continues, he admits that she'd said she didn't want to die, and that his actions were selfish. Mary sees the sadness in his face, and tells him to move on with his life, to live and to be happy.

Mary's letter is read aloud again, this time over a shot of the cemetery outside Silent Hill. It should be noted that the same letter is read aloud over each of the endings, taking on a different meaning with each scenario. As the reading ends, we see Laura walk confidently through the cemetery, following by James, and together they walk into the distance until they are swallowed by the fog.

“Leave” is considered by many to be the closest to a definitive ending for the game. James has faced his actions, committed to atoning for his sins, and finds redemption in the innocent girl who also came to find Mary. Since they are leaving together, it's reasonable to assume that James intends to adopt Laura in the same way that Mary had intended to. Or had she? Considering the manifestations of the town, and the fact that Mary's “letter” turns out to be blank by the end of the game, it's very possible that Laura's letter was also blank, something for James to see what he – or maybe the town – wanted. Laura represents moving on, similarly to how Maria did. But with Laura, James sees a piece of his late wife in the little girl, the daughter that they'd never gotten the chance to have together. According to the developers, Laura is a real person who came to the town, hinting that she'd hitched a ride with Eddie. The official novelization of the game follows Laura for a brief segment, seeing the town through her eyes. But this shouldn't stop us from considering that Laura is a manifestation of the town. After all, Maria told James multiple times that she was “real” and had a personality and memories of her own. Laura is also presented as an eight-year-old girl who somehow left the hospital she was staying in and found her way to this abandoned town, and is running around happy-go-lucky without a care. Even if we accept that Eddie gave her a ride into town, it still doesn't explain how a child so young could possibly have reached this place by herself without any other means. And let us consider Laura's role, drawing James deeper and deeper into the town to uncover the truth of his sins. Where Maria is happy to distract James and take him away from Mary, Laura's actions throughout the story are the catalyst for him to continue. She kicks the key out of his reach at the apartments, forcing him to find a new way around and encounter Pyramid Head. When she leaves both the bowling alley and the hospital, James follows her. Inside the hospital, it is here where James is first forced to consider that perhaps Mary hasn't been dead for as long as he thought, and after this Laura locks him in a room with monsters that forces him again to confront Pyramid Head. This is culminates at the hotel, where her words push James towards the truth, and her letter implies that Mary would have wanted to adopt this young girl. Finally, she judges him after viewing the tape, saying she hates him, and that he never loved Mary. She wants Mary back, and if James finds the “Leave” ending, it turns out that he does, too – but he can't have her. Here is where he must find acceptance. This spark of redemption, this eight year old girl, will have to suffice. Except she is just as false as the rest of the manifestations of the town, a fake promise of hope and happiness. James might believe he has found redemption, but at what cost? Notably, in the ending cutscene, Laura is the one leading James as they leave the town, as she has been leading him the entire game.

ANGELA

Utilizing symbolism and a “show don't tell” quality, this next story is one that the game trusts the audience to infer, but with enough detail as to make what is unsaid unmistakable. So, in order to understand the true meaning behind the “In Water” ending, we look to examine the story and interactions with the first character James meets on his journey: Angela Orosco.

Angela's knife is a key item for receiving the “In Water” ending of the game. James must examine the knife in his inventory at least once in order to trigger the potential of the ending, more times to ensure it. James must also let his health meter run into the red, staying at a fairly consistent – and dangerous – level close to death. This shows James's lack of care whether he's alive or not, which falls in line with the suicidal implications of Angela's knife. Maintaining a good distance from Maria and listening to the audio cues from Mary in the hotel are important. There is also a diary on the roof of Brookhaven Hospital, detailing the suicidal thoughts of a former patient there, that must be read. If these conditions are met, “In Water” will happen.

On the hotel rooftop, James discovers Maria dressed as Mary. Just like with “Leave,” he tells Maria that he's done with her, causing her to transform into a monster and he kills her. Once this happens, James finds himself next to Mary's sick bed, just as with “Leave.” But the dialogue here is different: James again admits that he didn't kill Mary to only ease suffering but to get his life back, however this time Mary doesn't bother pointing out James's sadness. Instead, she simply tells him that he killed her and now he's suffering for it, and that's enough. Mary begins to violently cough before dying once more, and a grieving James picks her body up off of the bed and walks off with her.

The screen turns black. We can hear the sound of footsteps, and a car door open and shut. James speaks aloud, a monologue, saying that he finally understands why he came to this town, wondering why he was so afraid to face it. In the background, the engine kicks over, revving to high speed. James admits that without Mary, he has nothing. The car is heard speeding down the road, growing louder and louder with intensity – before it abruptly cuts to silence. “Mary,” James says, “now we can be together.”

Mary's letter is once more read aloud, but this time over an underwater scene. Light from the surface can be seen, air bubbles rise past. It appears as though James has taken Mary's body back to his car and driven into the lake. There is no sight of him leaving, no further words from him, only the somber silence of the water and implication that James, after all of his confidence that he would never kill himself, has finally gone and done just that. It is one of the darkest and most melancholy endings to a video game ever written.

Now, we must examine the ties that Angela has to “In Water,” and what presents the notion that she is a fictional manifestation of the town rather than a real person. Firstly, it should go without saying that the theme of suicide is the most obvious tie. Angela wants to kill herself rather than face the trauma of her past, and so too does James. One of the implications hammered home over and over is that Mary was verbally abusive towards James near the end of her illness, something she addresses in her letter at the end of the game. She understands what she has done to him, and that he may hate her for it. James, for his part, admits that part of him killed her because he hated her, because he wanted his life back. Angela, too, did the same thing, only for her it was an act of survival. We can easily come to the conclusion that her father was physically and sexually abusing her based on the creature design and Angela's words. The sexual nature of the room where James fights the Abstract Daddy – with the pistons pumping in and out of the fleshy walls – brings this to a head. Killing her father, much like James killing his wife, caused a break in her. Wandering through Silent Hill to find her “Mama,” a source of matronly solace, is the opposite of James searching for his own wife, a woman who never had the chance to be a mother.

Reflections and opposites are what define the relationship between James and Angela, and I believe seals the notion that she is a manifestation. James has blonde hair, Angela has dark brown; James wears a dark grey polo under a green jacket with blue jeans, Angela wears a light grey turtleneck and red pants. When James and Angela meet in the apartments, most of their conversation takes place in a reflection. As she lies on the floor in front of a full length mirror, the camera primarily focuses on her, with James captured in the reflection. One shot in particular is telling: the camera looks down from the ceiling, Angela on the right, her reflection on the left, taking up equal sides of the screen, as she gets up off of the floor to turn to James. Before this scene, it's worth noting that Pyramid Head, James's own personal punisher, had been seen carrying no weapons whatsoever. But after Angela hands over the knife to James, when we next see Pyramid Head it is possessing a blade so large it has to drag the knife behind it. It's even referred to as the “Great Knife.” Angela provided James with more fuel for his own punishment, just as Laura led him closer to the hidden truth, just as Maria tried to pull him away from it.

For most of the game, James sees the town as water damaged from the fog. He sees wet environments, dripping water. The theme of water is present throughout the course of the game, except for one glaring instance: Angela's hallway of fire. For her, the world is always aflame, burning, the heat of her trauma a constant reminder. James, on the other hand, is always surrounded by water and drowning. At the end of their stories, when each of them decide to commit suicide, Angela does so by walking upwards into the flames, and James goes downward into the water. James has spent most of the game staunchly denying any desire or ability to commit suicide, but Angela has always known; in fact, she's embraced it. They are opposites in every capacity, down to gender identity, which is particularly of note in that Angela is the only female identifying member of the cast who has no relation to Mary. When we first meet James, he is introduced to us staring at his reflection in a dirty bathroom mirror. And when James and Angela first meet? She attempts to warn him away, to not go into the town, but James's reaction is exactly the opposite. He's going to the town to find what he wants, danger or no. Somewhere, a part of him was trying to get him to turn around, to run away, and that piece manifested in Angela's words.

It should also be noted that the game's creators have confirmed that from the opening of the game Mary's body is in the back seat of James's car. Her death is incredibly recent, within the last couple of days or hours. Perhaps James brought her here with the intention of committing suicide the entire time, having succumbed to the trauma of killing her, to the intense feeling of depression that he now carries.

But even if the previous evidence of opposites and reflections in the two characters has not been enough to convince you of their relation to each other, consider this: each of the first three Silent Hill games features a portrait of the main character on the front box art. Silent Hill 2?

The face on the cover is Angela's.

EDDIE

Up until this point it has been a relatively easy task to link the previous three characters to the endings of Silent Hill 2. Showing the relation of Eddie Dombrowski to the hidden “Rebirth” ending is a little more difficult considering both his story and the events necessary to unlock this ending. And yet, there is enough compelling evidence to demonstrate how this seemingly buffoonish man is essential to understanding the final ending to Silent Hill 2.

What's interesting about Eddie's story is how similarly it follows James's. While Mary did not bully James over his looks, she did verbally abuse him over a long period of time before he finally gave into his torment and killed her. So, too, did Eddie spend years being tortured verbally by those around him, the football player in particular, just because of his weight. Over a period of time, this harsh treatment turned the mild boy into a violent man, finally giving in to his urges and killing the bully's dog before shooting the bully in the knee. This is the event that Eddie was referring to in his conversation with Laura, saying that no one would ever forgive him for what he'd done; James no doubt felt much the same way after killing Mary. James laments his actions, aghast that he has killed a person. It turns out that Eddie is not his first murder, nor is it the only one done in “self-defense.” After all, with years of abuse stacked up, James wanted his life back and to not feel hurt anymore. In self-defense of his own emotions and life, he killed Mary, convincing himself that it was to end her pain as well.

But, unlike the other three characters we've examined, James's interactions with Eddie do not directly lead to one of the game's four endings. “Rebirth” is not an ending one can even achieve on the first playthrough of the game – it is only on starting up a new game after completing the story once can the player discover the necessary items to unlock “Rebirth.” There are four: the White Crism, the Obsidian Goblet, the Book of Lost Memories, and the Book of the Crimson Ceremony. Each of these items are found in locations scattered across Silent Hill, and without all four the Rebirth ending will not occur. If all of them are in James's possession, it will not matter what he did during the course of the game, or what ending was being led up to. “Rebirth” will take over, assuming James has been pursuing this course of action all along. As usual, James will find himself on the rooftop of the hotel, confront Maria disguised as Mary, battle her, and kill her. But then the player is treated to something unusual out of these endings: there is no scene of reconciliation with Mary on her deathbed, and Mary's letter is not read aloud. Instead, once Maria has been killed, the game fades in to James rowing his boat across Toluca Lake through the fog, with what appears to be a body in the boat with him. James narrates over the visual:

Mary. Forgive me for waking you. But without you, I just can't go on.

I can't live without you, Mary.

This town, Silent Hill...

The Old Gods haven't left this place...

And they still grant power to those who venerate them...

Power to defy even death...

As James speaks, the camera slowly pulls up and away from the row boat, which becomes more and more difficult to see in the swirling mist. But as it does, it reveals that James is rowing towards a previously unknown island in the lake. It is small, covered in trees, and has a dock for tying a boat to. As James approaches, he sighs, “Ah, Mary...” before disappearing behind the island, out of view of the player, the island the last thing we see before the credits roll.

What's chilling about this ending are the implications it delivers. First, is that the powers of the town are not simply metaphoric or metaphysical, but extend beyond the veil of the natural world. The first Silent Hill dealt with the cult who lived in the town, and their obsession with the Old Gods, but Silent Hill 2 chooses to focus more on the psychological horror of the town and the effects on the mind. While each of the monsters in the second game have horrific visuals, they can all be traced back to the trauma impacting James from his time during Mary's last days. Even Pyramid Head is explained through a painting found in the Historical Society of an executioner that bears the creature's image. But here, with this ending, Silent Hill 2 at last announces the connection to the first game in the sense of the Old Gods and the dark forces that inhabit the town. James is now crossing those lines, once a victim of them in his mind, now rising to the understanding of how to manipulate those powers to his benefit...if he venerates the Old Gods.

Secondly, this ending implies that James has been on this journey more than once. We can infer this from the simple fact that the ending can only be unlocked after any one of the previous endings have been seen. There's also the disturbing evidence left behind in the shape of the various bodies James finds along his journey. Both in the streets of Silent Hill and in the apartment complex, James finds bodies that wear clothing eerily similar to his own: black shoes, blue jeans, green jacket. Only the faces are bloodied and torn apart as to be unrecognizable. We could, of course, posit that this is just the town's way of predicting James's fate in the same way that interacting with Angela does. In fact, there are multiple ways in which the town predicts James's demise. One of them is found inside Neely's Bar (or, as it's listed in the game, Bar Neely's). A message written in what looks like blood reads “There was a HOLE here. It's gone now.” Later, when James returns to the bar after leaving the hospital, the message has changed: “If you really want to see Mary, you should just DIE. But you might be heading to a different place than Mary, James.” In multiple, subtle ways, the town is directing James towards one of multiple conclusions. It creates Maria, and pushes her in front of him as a means to have back a form of the woman he's lost. It creates Laura, who would have been Mary's adopted child with blessing, and with whom Mary implies she wants James to find reason to move on. It creates Angela, whose state of mind reflects his torment, who James sees is slowly preparing to die, and takes inspiration from. But it also creates Eddie, and Eddie's answer denies all three other routes. Once Eddie's method is chosen – the route which leads to a resurrection – then the story still unfolds, but refuses any other conclusion. Because the women in the game are there to add to James's torment, to force him to face his past and come to the conclusion of how best his punishment must be meted out. But Eddie, the only other male identifying presence in the game, represents what James has been doing before the events of the game: denial.

Eddie changes his story about his past multiple times. When we first meet him, he's vomiting, cowering, appears weak and harmless and denies doing any harm to the body in the next room. Next, he's having a pity party while confessing to Laura, however slightly, that he would be unwelcome by others after what he'd done. Again, remember that this is the only conversation in the game that doesn't involve James – Laura, the icon of moving on despite the past, and Eddie, the icon of denial. Eddie's denial deepens in the prison, when he claims that “killing a person ain't no big deal,” but then jokingly assures James that he was just kidding about causing violence. But his denial only goes so far: in our final meeting, Eddie has accepted the violence he's caused, but focuses the blame on those around him who made fun of him, who “had it coming, too.” Eddie has been hurt, his anger is justifiable, but his means cannot be so. It is extremely telling that the slabs of meat hanging from their hooks are all wearing pants and suspenders. Eddie has been pushed psychologically to the point where he sees the people around him as little more than meat. He understands what other humans are capable of, and has reached the point where he refuses to sit back and take it anymore. His gun, an oversized revolver, is symbolic of his power. James, too, has been pushed to the point of retaliation, but he still denies himself the truth, just like Eddie in the beginning. James is constantly pushed further and further into the realization that he has killed Mary, that he has done wrong, and that he must come to terms with it. In three endings, he faces this wrong. In the final ending, he simply denies the wrongdoing. He's been through this before, he's justified himself, he searched through his mind and come to the conclusion that he was justified in his actions. But how can that be? Well, James has searched through the town on his quest for redemption. He has searched high and low and discovered certain things about the history of the town that he didn't understand before. Books and information on certain items of mystical power. So perhaps when he eventually reaches his conclusion as to what he feels his actions require, a second thought forms in his mind. Perhaps he makes his way all the way back to the parking lot where he left his car – and Mary's body – behind. Maybe Laura is with him, or Maria is with him, or he goes to drive into the lake. As he goes to leave, he thinks, “This doesn't feel right. This isn't what I deserve.” Because he just wants Mary. He can't go on without her. But now he understands how to get her back.

So he turns around and heads back to town, but the town wants him to feel it all over again. He has to earn his wife back. And as the town resets all the players and the pieces, it knows it will get what it really wants: a new servant, someone willing to perform rituals to the Old Gods that have not performed in far too long. And James, calm, peaceful, finally comes to terms with himself as he rows out to the island where the ritual must take place.

Because when you can resurrect someone, killing a person ain't no big deal.

***

With video games, sometimes there are multiple endings one can achieve based on their actions during their playthrough, just like in Silent Hill 2. But oftentimes, the developers will state outright which of the endings is the “true” ending so players can have a sense of satisfaction knowing how the story truly ends. However, in Silent Hill 2 every ending is canon. Developers Team Silent have stated that it's up to the players to determine which ending out of the possible four is how James Sunderland's story actually ends. There are, of course, two joke endings that the developers wisely have ensured remain in the realm of satire, leaving us to wonder and marvel at how one game can present so much ambiguity, while still remaining a concrete experience.

This we know: if all endings are canon, if it's truly up to the player, then anything goes. This essay, after all, is a fan theory. At no point have the developers ever hinted that anyone other than Maria is not real. The official novelization shows backstory for some of the characters, and even goes into their heads. Based on this, why extrapolate information to support a theory that has obviously been shown to be quite the opposite? Because – and here's the fun part – Silent Hill has always been a series about misdirection. Illusion, hallucinations of visual and audio types, and concealed intention. Disguises abound in Silent Hill, in each game. Team Silent demonstrated that Maria is absolutely not a “real” person by any means, but still thinks and feels like one and has memories because the town created her to have them. She is presented as the only person in the game who understands who James is, what he's done, and her role in the story. It stands to reason that the town could have created these other characters, but simply not given them the awareness of their role to play. And, as I have hopefully detailed well enough, the compelling evidence linking them both to the town and to James is unmistakable and undeniable. Whether or not you, the reader, choose to support this theory yourself, well, there are many endings to this tale. Just as all of them are equally correct in their canon.

But the next time you play Silent Hill 2, perhaps you'll be invited to look a little closer, pay attention a bit harder, consider ideas that you hadn't considered before. One of the most beautiful things about this abstract masterpiece is that it opens itself to observation as well as deduction, and when a game this detailed and well-thought-out is kind enough to allow for this, it is only good of us to indulge.

Thank you all so much for your time.

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anistarrose · 4 years

Text

Counting the Days (Gravity Falls)

AO3: archiveofourown.org/works/24739027

Summary: Ford stops acknowledging his birthday during his time in the portal.

Characters: Ford Pines, Stan Pines, Mabel Pines, Dipper Pines

Relationships: Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Dipper Pines & Ford Pines & Mabel Pines & Stan Pines

Warnings: some morbid thoughts about aging and death, general angst but there’s a happy ending

Been a while since I returned to my “angsty GF one-shot with a happy ending” roots, huh? And there’s no better day than June 15th to change that :)

@thestanbros, I guess this counts for Week 2: Birthday!

***

Ford carefully counts the years he spends traveling between dimensions — he has to, he’s decided, in order to stay sane. He can’t lose sight of what he’s fighting for, or how long he’s been fighting for it. It’s his anchor to reality in an infinite, incomprehensible multiverse — he could be (and has been) lost in space, but he will never be lost in time. He could be marooned in the abyss at the bottom of an alien sea, but he’d still never lose sight of his goal or of everything he’s accomplished so far.

It’s been five, ten, fifteen years since the betrayal, since the postcard, since falling — and each year further reinforces his resolve. He’s survived this long, he has to make it worth something.

But somewhere along the line, Ford stops acknowledging his birthday.

It’s not because of a grudge against Stan. He’s angry, he thinks he’ll always be angry, but he was angry with Stan throughout his early adulthood on Earth, and he still celebrated his birthday back then. He tried to separate the date of June 15th from his thoughts of Stan, failed more often than not, and blamed the sickening lonely feeling in his gut on eating too much cake, but he acknowledged it nonetheless — until now.

“Now” is somewhere around the time his hair stops being brown with a few streaks of gray, and starts looking more gray with a faint hint of brown, when he stops celebrating the passage of the years. It’s somewhere in his late forties when he looks in the mirror on the morning of his birthday, and a thought hits him like a neutrino blast to the chest — his age and his experience are working for him right now, but they’ll be working against him soon.

His mission to defeat Bill is running against an invisible countdown timer, manifesting not in numbers, but in the aching of his joints and the slowing of his reflexes. At best, he figures, he has about twenty-five years before the last few silent ticks of that timer close in on him — and that’s only the most generous of estimates.

He thinks of the people he’s met across the multiverse, the people he’s promised to save by assassinating their triangular, demonic dictator. He wonders what they’ll think if unbeknownst to them, he dies of old age (or reflexes that fail him, or a wit that’s not quite as sharp as it used to be, or an infection he would’ve easily fought off as a younger man — it’s all the same, in the end). He wonders what they’ll think after putting their faith in him for years, only for freedom to never come. If they’ll think he’s just given up. If they’ll feel betrayed. If they even realized the implications of Ford being a human, short-lived among the smartest species of the multiverse, or if they even knew how short human lifespans were in the first place.

He stops acknowledging his birthday, once he starts wondering those things.

***

Worlds away, but on the very same June 15th, a man weathers out a thunderstorm in the basement of his house, navigating the laboratory by candlelight and praying the power surge and subsequent blackout haven’t damaged the portal.

He thinks (hopes) that he’s in the clear, because he thankfully doesn’t see any blown circuits, but he can’t be sure. He’s never been sure how the workings of the portal are supposed to look when operational — that’s what all his biggest problems boil down to, in the end.

Stan rests the candle on his desk — in the blackout, he hadn’t been able to find his usually-reliable gas lantern — and pulls out the journal. He winces as he sees his reflection in the golden hand — more shadow than face, thanks to the flickering candlelight, but Stan has spent enough time looking in mirrors to fill in the gaps.

He hopes Ford is aging better than he is, wherever Ford is. At this rate, they’ll both be decrepit by the time they see each other again…

If we ever do.

Stan’s spent enough nights alone in the basement with his fears to know that this train of thoughts isn’t going anywhere good, but it’s already accelerated past his ability to halt.

Stan hasn’t seen a doctor in decades. There is a realistic chance that Ford, despite facing unimaginable peril in an alien dimension, will still outlive him. And if Stan can’t reactivate the portal before his health fails him… then what will Ford think?

Will he assume Stan had tried his best and failed, even the most basic principles of the portal’s operation flying completely over his head? Or will he just figure Stan had abandoned him, giving up at the first sign of difficulty, and in the process betraying his brother once again?

Stan looks at his watch, barely readable in the dim light, and realizes not just that it’s past midnight, but that it’s already been the 15th for several hours.

He trudges into the portal room, holding the candle at arms length and the journal close to his chest, then sits down on the cold earth floor, the muffled roar of thunder sounding off overhead.

“Happy birthday, Sixer,” he whispers, and blows out the candle. “I’m trying my best, I promise.”

He sits there in the darkness for a long time, until the storm outside calms and the lights finally flicker back on.

***

Stan and Ford are heading into the living room, carrying reels of film and other family memorabilia, when Mabel ambushes them with a confetti cannon in one hand and a can of silly string in the other.

“Happy birthday, you two!”

“Whoa, what?” Stan brushes silly string off the photo album he’s holding. “Our birthday’s in June. Who told you it was today?”

“If anything, you should be saving this confetti for your own birthday festivities,” Ford adds.

“We know it was in June,” Dipper speaks up from the other side of the room, from which he’s carrying in a precariously balanced tray of cupcakes, “but Mabel and I were talking yesterday, and we realized you guys missed out on spending a whole bunch of birthdays together.”

“So we’re fixing that!” Mabel explains. “Today is the first of your many Bonus Birthdays, which you get to share because you’re actually in the same house and the same dimension and everything!”

“Any day from now on could turn out to be a Bonus Birthday,” Dipper adds with a grave nod. “Bonus Birthdays have a way of sneaking up on you when you least expect them.”

Ford slowly shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “And who gets to declare whether a given day is a Bonus Birthday or not?”

“That’s our job, of course!” Mabel answers. “We might not be able to bake you cupcakes once we’re back in California, but I’m sure we’ll still be chatting online, so we’ll keep you updated on when you need to drop everything and celebrate together!”

“Kids, I —” Stan’s voice fails him. “I can’t believe — you didn’t have to —”

Ford wipes his eyes. “It’s okay, Stan. They already know you’re a sentimental old man.”

“You’re one to talk, Sixer.” Stan sets down his photo album to hug Mabel, and Ford does the same to hug Dipper.

“This means… this means so much more than I even think I could explain,” Ford murmurs. “Thank you for doing this, kids.”

#gravity falls #stanford pines #stanley pines #dipper pines #mabel pines #stan twins birthday #rosalia writes fic

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annhellsing · 4 years

Text

Your Shape.

notes: never in my life thought i’d write an original thing again, but i had a lot of fun!!! i was feeling super overwhelmed and decided to put my maladaptive daydream about a meet-cute with a mysterious entity in a forest into words. rating: teen, we stay tame in these woods pairing: mysterious entity boyfriend idk / reader word count: 3,286

The shape in the forest wants to know if you are warm enough. Moonlight falls over the crown of your head, so yellow and full as to be a parody of sunshine. This late in September, with the harvest coming soon, it is easy to confuse the two.

But the shape does not ask, he does not want to scare you. Your shoulders are slouched, cheeks pressed to your palms to hide tears and sobs. He wants to know if you are unhappy, too. He imagines you have already given him a fair answer, despite not having spoken at all.

A dirt-caked hand curls around the trunk of a tree. The shape leans out of the dark, eyes aglow and horns in danger of bumping on a branch overhead. He ducks a bit, takes a careful step forward. If he were anyone else, the twig under his foot might have snapped and made a sound. But there is an understanding between them, an old promise. The only noise in the night is of your crying.

“It’s too much,” you whisper, half-wailing around the air being pushed from your lungs. You press a hand over your mouth and for a moment, all is quiet.

The shape decides he does not like that at all. You are unhappy, he’s sure of it, so why not express it?

“What is?” he asks, compelled to speak when before he had stayed silent. You were not crying before, he rations. You did not need help then as you do now.

You turn at the sound of his voice, it is as cold and as full as the moon in the sky. It belongs there, that voice, between the trees. You peer into the dark, not afraid of what might be speaking, but why. Creatures are not uncommon, it is their motivations you have been taught to fear.

A breeze picks up, pushing cool air at your hot cheeks. The feeling is almost pleasant, it’s accompanied by the sound of rustling leaves. Or perhaps of footsteps from your newfound companion.

He does not walk as a human might, though he is shaped like one. With the grass, too, he has an understanding and his gait is as noiseless and natural as the way that he speaks. You stare up, up, up at him, craning your neck until you find his face.

It is a handsome face, which does not immediately set you at ease. You see the outline of his head and shoulders, framed by two horns extending back against the starlit sky. But the rest of him is a mystery. It disappears into the shadows that knit in a circle around the glade.

“Everything,” you answer with honesty, for it is the best policy.

“I can understand, then, why you are upset,” he replies.

Your sweater scratches your cheeks as you wipe away tears. But you are very careful to keep one eye open and fixed on the shape, the visitor. It is not very smart to do more than blink in their company.

Still, you make noise. Soft sounds of life, of breath as you try to stifle sobs. Crying gets you nowhere, you remember, especially not with an audience.

“How long have you been watching me?” you ask, careful not to sound accusatory. You are not accusing him of anything, you are only curious.

“I did not mean to infringe on your privacy,” he returns.

“This forest is your home,” you reason. The shape gives a slow shake of his horned head.

“It is home to everyone,” he says, “especially to those who need somewhere safe to cry.”

“Thank you,” you nod, “but have not answered me.”

“Longer than you would be comfortable with,” he replies, “I am sorry.”

“That’s a little vague,” you say.

“Not to me,” he says, “I have seen you here before. Not often, but I have.”

“Oh,” you pass your sleeve over your left eye once more, “I meant tonight, but I appreciate the truth.”

It’s becoming easier to control the way your chest moves. The compulsive need to breathe quickly slows with your heart rate. You are not calm, but you are managing.

“You looked happy before,” he says, “the last time you were here.”

“The last time I was here, things were---” you sigh, dropping your hand and your head. Though you remember very suddenly the dangers of doing so. But when your eyes return quickly to the shape’s again, you notice no change in his appearance. “They were different.”

“They were better?” he asks. Defeated, you nod.

“I am so tired,” you let out a slow breath.

“If you slept here,” he begins, “no one else would bother you. That is a promise.”

“And you keep your promises,” you state, knowing better than to insult him by phrasing that as a question.

“I do,” he says, “the grass is comfortable, the trees keep out most of the rain. Every night I have known life, I have spent it on the floor of a forest.”

“That sounds nice,” you admit. But you are not so foolish as to blindly trust visitors. “I don’t want to go home.”

“Is it very difficult to be there?” he cocks his head to the side, the moonlight falling on a sharp cheekbone. A shadow pools there, you stare with more curiosity than perhaps you ought. The shape doesn’t seem to mind.

“It is,” you reply, “it’s quite lonely, too. Even when I’m spoken to, I feel alone.”

The visitor hums, the sound like the wind against tree boughs. Could he understand?

“I am here,” he says, “for what it is worth.”

You pause, considering his eyes that have not left yours once. Not even to blink. They are a strange colour, glassy but focused very intently on the curve of your face. They look, you consider, like the yellow moon that hangs so close to the edge of the forest.

Round and wide and curious, he stares at you. Not as one might stare at an insect, but as an interesting person.

“So am I,” you reply. And a hesitant smile of your own joins his.

“You have family,” he says, “friends who love you?” and the question at the end cuts like a knife.

“I have nobody,” you say, “though a few would likely search for me. It would be out of habit.”

“Habit?” he asks.

“Because I would do the same for them,” you explain, “my friends and I look after each other. But we’re not very close.”

“You need not be afraid of me,” he says. And that otherworldly smile returns, but it does little to dissuade the butterflies in your stomach.

The shape moves a bit closer, until only his horns are silhouetted against the inky sky. You can see him a bit better, though his lower body still remains a mystery.

You find yourself looking closely at his hands, searching the dirt and grass stains for signs of blood or cruelty. You find neither.

“I am not afraid,” you say, following a shiver.

“Yes, you are,” he says, “I am sorry. I frighten people, I know. But you need not reassure me that you shall be looked for.”

“Force of habit,” you say, “I’ve been told stories all my life, advised to be careful about what I say to visitors.”

“I understand. It is wise for you to follow that advice, but I will not hurt you,” he says.

“And you keep your promises,” you repeat, the smile once again curling on the corners of your mouth.

He surprises you with a laugh, the sound fills your chest even by proxy. As full and soft as his voice, the shape’s laugh makes you feel whole. It isn’t cold any more, you realize. A familiarity blooms in the way he speaks to you already. Perhaps he truly does understand the need for companionship.

You shift a little on the log, deciding to believe him. Not trust, not yet, but to believe.

“I am afraid, but I’m not scared of you,” you say, “would you sit?”

“Can you be both at the same time?” he asks, though he starts forward towards where you are. You’ve straightened up, your cheeks have dried. That pleases him.

“I am afraid of what would hurt me, of the stories I’ve been told. But you are not like the stories, are you?” you ask. The shape slowly shakes his head. He sinks down beside you, with not a creak from the wood beneath.

“I try not to be,” he admits.

“The woods are lovely,” you say, “I cannot blame visitors for wishing to protect them. It should be protected.”

“But not from you,” he replies, “remember, this is also your home.”

“I never thought of it like that,” you confess.

“Perhaps not, but you do choose to come here every so often. Why?” he cocks his head to the side again, a strand of dark hair falls over his shoulder, having come loose from where it was gathered into a low plait at the back of his neck.

“No one knows me here,” you say, “except for you. And don’t apologize, I don’t dislike that.”

“You do not?” he straightens his neck again. His eyes widen a fraction, as does your smile.

“I forgive you for watching me. I know you meant no harm,” and the visitor nods. “I come here because I am unknown, I can be myself. I have no obligations here. The sounds and sights are never too much, the moonlight is never too bright.”

“Elsewhere you feel overwhelmed,” the shape summarizes. You nod.

“Precisely. And I sit on that feeling until I have no choice but to cry,” it is harder to admit out loud than you like. But in his bright, yellow eyes you find some form of agreement.

He really is quite handsome, you note the longer you’re allowed to look. And though you are less worried about when to blink around him, you find no evidence to suggest he is changing his shape. You suppose that a visitor with ill intent, looking to ensnare a foolish human would choose a less challenging mask.

The visitor is not quite right, unearthly as his beauty may be. His unbroken stare is a colour no mortal thing could ever have. His hair is braided, yes, but this close you can tell a brush has never touched it. What you can see of his ears is sharply triangular at the ends, rather than rounded. Dirt and dust are caked under his fingernails, you wonder if he might be a gravedigger.

But no blood, nor memory of blood pools at the corners of his thin mouth. His lips are not tinged with pale blue the way corpses are. While he is wan and waxy, he does not carry the chill that wraps around you. He may not be fully separate from the night, but he does not seem to belong to it.

“Who are you?” you ask. You’ve spoken at length about your sadness, but it has never felt so far away as it does now. The shape’s smile falters for just a moment.

“I am not certain,” he replies.

“You and me both,” you try to find his grin again, giving him your own so that he will not worry. “I only ask because---”

“Because there is something sinister about me,” he finishes. And he nods, as if he has heard it before. His head dips a fraction, turning from you. All the better see the horns that sprout from it.

They are long and black as his hair, arching back from his brow. They curve, just once and end in a delicate point. And yet he moves as if they are barely a hindrance, with grace that would accompany experience.

“Quite the opposite,” you reply, “I have never heard of anyone like you.”

“I am not a gravedigger,” he replies, “and I am not a monster.”

“No,” you agree, “you don’t eat people, living or dead?”

He curls his lip in disgust rather than answering, it makes you choke on a small giggle. The shape turns back to you, as confused by the sound as you were when he laughed. There is similar awe in his face.

“Then you could be a forest spirit,” you try, “that would make sense.”

“It is possible,” he concedes, “but I do not know. I have been alone for as long as I can remember.”

“That’s so sad,” you speak without thinking, usually a dangerous game. But the shape is unoffended by the obvious pity in your voice. You’ve given him plenty to pity you for, after all. “Do you speak to other people in the forest very often?”

“I have, but never frequently,” he replies. You still do not trust him, but his slight anxiety appears to match your own. As much as he belongs here, it appears he is not sure if he belongs here with you.

He stays a safe distance from you on the log, you shift a little closer. Though your cheeks still sting and the whites of your eyes are still red, you feel less lost in your misery. Less alone.

“I wish I never had to leave,” you sigh, “I could sit in this glade and watch the sky move forever and ever.”

“I have done so,” he says, “it is a very good way to spend one’s time. I enjoy it.”

You trust that to be right, at least. Still, for all his flawless strangeness and otherworldly beauty, he seems very lonely. He’s unhappy.

“I wish---” you start, but cut yourself off.

“I could steal you,” he says, so suddenly that you wonder how long he’s been holding it back.

“Steal me?” you ask, turing to the shape with an arched brow. But you do not, in fact, sound repulsed.

“You would not have to return home if I did. You could stay here,” he reasons. Taken aback, you smile for the confusion.

“Have you stolen many people?” you ask.

“No,” he says with a firm shake of his head.

“Is it a great honour?” a teasing tone creeps into your voice, your smile turning impish. The visitor smiles too, as if your joy gives him joy by proxy.

“I think it would be my honour, as you would be my guest,” he explains.

“But why take me?” you ask, resisting the urge to dismiss this completely as some sort of joke.

“So that you will not cry,” he says. And the faraway solemness in his voice stuns you to silence for a moment.

“Lots of people cry, lots of people are afraid,” you try. He shakes his head.

“But you are here, I am here. Your home is here,” he says. You make a sound, like a sob but softer and more amused. Bewildered.

“Is it allowed?” you know the rules in part, never to accept food from visitors or stay too long. But he isn’t like the creatures in your grandmother’s stories. And if he is, you might be willing to take the risk. Going home with this exchange behind you feels wrong.

“I do not know, I have never offered before,” he admits. You give a slow sigh.

“Are you afraid? There may be consequences,” you try to rationalize why it could never be, and the way his face falls is heartbreaking.

“I am lonely,” he confirms, “nothing else.”

“I was worried you were,” you say. You look at him, horns and all in the moonlight. You dip your head and try to catch his big, yellow eyes. He looks back with no hesitation, like he was hoping for you.

“So, will you stay with me?” your visitor asks. His face softens, more vulnerable now than you’ve seen before. And you thought you had known it all. If this is a lie, you might like to be lied to.

“Right here?” you say, foolishly. His reedy laugh fills your chest again.

“Perhaps not only here, not all the time,” he replies, still looking happy. “I could take you to the places that I like best.”

“I wouldn’t mind staying in the forest,” you consider, pulling your eyes away. The circle of woods around you feels far bigger than before, more free and ready to explore. There is excitement under your tongue.

Your visitor hears it, he leans in just a bit with your back turned. He couldn’t help it if he wanted to, his mind is already pushing against the confines of his skull. It’s such an old mind, such an old skull. And it has been too long since another voice occupied it the way that yours does.

When you look back to him, you are not afraid. He watches your face very intently, ready to see fear or watery sadness return. He dreads both, he cannot stop himself from saying,

“And I would not mind your staying, say that you will,” your visitor does not know if he has breath the way humans do, but you have taken his. It will be so hard to part with if you decline.

To his immortal joy, you lean in a little closer as well. Your shoulders slouch, you relax.

“Where is your most favourite place?” you ask, distracting him from the clutter of his desperation for a moment.

“Along the bank of the mirror pond, it is not far due east from here,” he replies. It is hard not to smile when thinking of it. The perfect circle of still water, flanked by willow trees and daisy clusters. You might like it there.

“I haven’t been swimming since I was a little girl,” you admit. It’s almost sheepish, embarrassed that such a mundane joy has evaded you.

“You could again,” he suggests, brightening further. Until your visitor’s enthusiasm is dulled by his own hand, worried at reminding you of whatever dreadful situation you’ve come from. “But I would not make you.”

“Do you promise?” you cock your head to the side this time, tilting your head back a fraction to appreciate the full length of his horns.

“I do,” he insists. He would like to have an understanding with you, to understand you. The grass can keep his promises, but it never speaks back.

Your visitor looks so hopeful, you’re shocked by the realization that it may be mirrored on your own face. You are just as desperate, searching for a reason you could say yes. It’s right there, hiding just at the back of your throat. Another word from him and it will come.

He is made of smoke, you’re sure. Of dirt and red clay. Of pine needles and the daisies that you saw when you tried to get thoroughly lost in the woods. And of a kind thought or ten. He is so very sweet, it seems right.

“If you offer and I accept, is that still stealing?” you state your question, the final one before you answer. You’ve decided on that.

You reach into his lap, over thin knees that appear under heavy fabric. You did not see it before for the shadows, but he wears a cloak of green canvas--- so dark as to be almost mistaken for black. His dirt-caked hand, boney and cold from the night air rests against his thigh until you pick it up.

He fits his palm to yours as best he can, it is good enough.

He smiles, showing his small fangs. You give his hand a squeeze, hoping to warm him. But, you remember, you will have a while to do so. Slowly, you stand and he follows.

“I have no idea,” your shape says.

#NO CLUE HOW TO TAG THIS HM #mayhaps i shan't lmao #this is a gift to my followers basically #have some existential rambling #anniewrites

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nalgenewhore · 4 years

Text

crossing lines - part two

like the teeny tiniest bit NSFW......just a tad

The sun spilling through the window was what woke him and still half asleep, Lorcan reached across the bed, searching for what, he wasn’t exactly sure.

When he felt nothing but empty sheets, he slowly sat up, his shoulder stiff and sore. He was alone in his room and he sighed, yawning as he rubbed his eyes and spotted a note with his name on it.

He moved slowly, not completely conscious. Lorcan picked it up and read,

I went home to change and get my wallet, I’ll be back at 9:30 to pick you up

-E

The clock on his desk told him he had six minutes and Lorcan cursed, lunging out of bed. Elide Lochan wasn’t exactly known for her patience and would tear him a new one if he was late to go dress shopping for a dance he asked her to. Or, told her that she was his date. Semantics.

He hastily tugged on a pair of black jeans, doing his belt up as fast as he could and he grabbed a t-shirt, a plain white one. Lorcan threw his hair up in a messy bun, held together with one of Elide’s scrunchies and he grabbed his leather jacket, nearly forgetting socks before he was shoving on his high-top chucks, once white, but after countless nights out and forgotten moments, they were slightly grey. He sacrificed a few precious seconds to cuff his jeans, Elide would understand.

Lorcan crashed down the stairs, skittering to a stop when he saw Elide seated at the kitchen bar, slowly sipping on a cup of tea. She looked phenomenal, dressed in a cropped knit sweater and a high waisted plaid skirt, high socks pulled to her mid thigh.

On her feet she wore a pair of platform Mary Janes, her long hair falling in soft waves down her back. Lorcan was silent as he gazed at her, his heart breaking and growing all at once. Elide turned, her mouth open like she was ready to yell at him to hurry up, but her plump lips, painted a deep burgundy spread into a wide smile, “How often do you spy on me, Salvaterre?”

Elide slid off the stool, grabbing her keys and phone, waltzing up to him, her legs seeming like they went on for miles. “Kk, we gots to go, lots of shopping to do, Lor.”

She slipped her hand into his elbow, scrunching her nose up at him, “What are you, deaf? Hi, how are you, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because you’re beautiful.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and his eyes widened as she blushed, ducking her head down.

“Shut up.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“El,” he whined, “I don’t care what dress you choose, just pick one!”

It had been hours, or so it seemed. She had dragged him behind her to every store possible. Lorcan had never learned more about different fabrics and prints and cuts and slit or no slit, what strap she wanted, what kind of neckline. Elide’s voice, tinged with irritation, “You’re the one who gave me no time to shop!”

He felt kind of bad. All he had to do was say yes or no, but he usually just said I don’t care. And it was true, he didn’t. None of the dozens of dresses she had tried on felt right. They were too poofy, not poofy enough, too liquidy, too sparkly, he found little details that he didn’t like and decided he didn’t like the entire ensemble.

Elide was the one who actually had to try on every damned dress and he could tell she was getting more and more tired, every time she slipped her hand into his elbow, she held on a little tighter and walked a little slower.

The door opened and he heard the sound of fabric swishing, but he didn’t look up from his phone quite yet, busy fighting with Gavriel over text, trying to convince his coach to let him play at next week’s game.

“Ahem,” Elide said, her hands on her hips when he finally deigned to glance up, flicking his gaze over the dress she wore.

It was perfect.

It was blood-red silk, spaghetti straps that attached to triangular shapes covering her chest, the neckline dipping down low, just enough to show some of her ample cleavage. It was tight around her taut stomach and tiny waist, slim around her hips and legs before flowing out gently just above her knees. There was a thigh high slit running up the left side, showing off the lean length of her leg when she walked.

There was a small train that pooled on the floor behind her and when she spun slowly, he saw that the back dipped down to just above her ass. “I don’t know about-”

“It’s perfect.” He couldn’t look away, slowly dragging his eyes up her body to meet her gaze, “It’s perfect, El. Get it.”

A small smile twisted her lips and it was she who looked away first, nodding as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Ok, I’ll get it.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Ten minutes later, Elide was thanking the shop owner while they exited, her paper bag, her dress wrapped in wrapping paper, in Lorcan’s hand.

“You and your boyfriend have a good day now, love,” the older woman said, her face kind.

Elide laughed, shaking her head, “Oh, we’re not dating, we’re just friends. Best friends.”

The woman’s smile faded the slightest bit as Lorcan nodded, agreeing to Elide’s statement. “Just friends.”

“Oh, well, have fun,” she said and she waved as Elide opened the door and they were out on the sidewalk.

Elide was laughing beside him, “How many times do you think people have said that to us?”

Too many and yet, not nearly enough because it was clear that Elide still didn’t get it. Not that he could blame her, he’d been in love with her for years and never said a word. He forced a laugh, the sound foreign in his ears, “I don’t know, I wonder why.”

Elide shot him a quizzical glance, but before he could ask her what, it was gone and she was stopping in front of a store, a wicked glint in her eyes. Elide did not say a word as she dragged him in, letting go of his arm to clap her hands.

Lorcan looked around and made a noise of protest, “El, why are we here?” he whisper shouted, scowling at her as he blushed, the store filled with lacy undergarments.

Elide sighed, “None of the ones I have match.” She pouted, fingering a corset, her eyes travelling over everything.

“And why does that matter? You’re my date and it’s not like we’re gonna fuck,” he shot back at her, gesturing between the two of them. His heart was pounding in his chest and he tried to keep his pulse in check.

“So? They’re pretty and I want new ones,” she stated, patting his cheek and beckoning him behind her with a single finger. He followed her without question or hesitation, avoiding the gaze of every other person in the shop. “Just sit down in this room, I won’t be long.”

He sighed and sat down on the plush couch, resigning himself to his fate. The floor-length mirrors on the walls surrounding him and the little pedestal in the middle, as well as the curtained area, told him what this room was.

Lorcan groaned and dropped his head in his hands.

He was so, so fucked.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“I just-” whined Elide, looking at herself in the mirror. She was clad in red lace, turning this way and that. “I fucking hate my tits, like, what?”

It was no secret that Elide was… blessed in the chest department. They had always been above average, but senior year had gifted her with another growth spurt of sorts. Lorcan avoided looking at her now, knowing he wouldn’t be able to control the look in his eyes if he saw her. “What are you talking about?”

“How have you not noticed? They’re fucking huge,” she cried, cupping them for emphasis. All the blood in his body shot south.

Gods, he was not a good person. She was his best friend, the girl next door and all he could think about right now was marking her pale skin with handprints and dark hickeys as he bent her over the couch.

Fuck, he needed to get out of here. Old women, abandoned puppies, warts, he thought as he dug his nails into his palms, waiting until he could stand perfectly normal. Elide turned and stared up at him, her brow quirked up. “And where do you think you’re going?” She cocked her hip to the side, her fingers drumming on the waist band. “We’re not done here.”

She pointed to the couch and he sat back down, crossing his legs tightly. Elide turned her back to him, scrutinizing the set in the mirror. Lorcan let his eyes travel down her back, the red lace wrapped around her waist before travelling down to her ass.

His gaze locked onto the curve of her backside, perfectly framed by the red panties. “See something you like?” questioned Elide, a teasing tone in her voice.

It took everything in him to meet her eyes, willing his face to hide every thought racing through his mind. “The tag is sticking out.” Well, that was partly true.

“Oh,” she said, sounding disappointed. “Tuck it in for me?”

Lorcan breathed in deeply before slowly standing and walking up behind her, sending a shock through her lower back as his fingers brushed against her skin. “Sorry,” he murmured, tucking the tag back in for her.

“‘T’s all good,” she replied, her gaze hooded as their eyes met in the mirror.

It was he who spoke first, “Um, I’m gonna go get us a table at Mistward, alright?”

Elide nodded vaguely, still holding his stare, “Mm-hmm, sounds good.”

Without another word, he left, clenching his jaw.

What the fuck was that?

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan was on his third coffee when Elide finally arrived, dropping down in the seat across from him, a little paper bag with ribbon handles placed on the table between them.

It seemed whatever had happened was forgotten as she plucked his cup from his hands and sipped, making a disgusted face, “Ugh, I forgot you drank coffee. Can you fetch me a tea, love?”

Although it was phrased as a question, it was nothing of the sort, it was a command and Lorcan stood, smiling despite himself. “Yeah, one sec.”

“Ooh,” she exclaimed, popping her chin on her fist, “a cranberry-orange muffin would be amazing as well.” She crossed her left leg over her right and swung her foot, smiling lazily up at him.

“You’re lucky I like you so much,” Lorcan commented as he backed away and turned, walking up to the counter. He heard Elide’s tinkling laughter behind him and couldn’t stop the smile that grew.

The barista called for the next person and he stepped forward, “Hey.”

“Hi, what can I get for you today?”

He perused the menu, but it was unnecessary, “I’ll get a sixteen ounce Earl Grey and do y’all got cranberry-orange muffins today?”

The barista smiled at him, his voice smooth and even, “Yeah, want that warmed up?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine.” Lorcan pulled out his wallet, “I think that’s all for now, man.”

“Perfect and it’s for here, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding his head. “And it’s on card, please.”

“Alright,” the barista, his name tag reading ‘Nox’, turned the tablet over to Lorcan, indicating where he could pay, “go for it.”

Lorcan tipped and paid the man, moving to stand by the pick-up counter, accepting the muffin set on a little round plate. He took it back to Elide, who had her eyes closed and her face tipped to the sun. “El,” he said, putting her muffin down in front of her. He didn’t sit, simply stood up straight and went to lean against the wall by the counter.

A few moments later, a familiar body, one he knew nearly as well as his own, slid up beside him. Elide tucked herself into his side, her fingers toying with the silver chain around his neck. Lorcan wrapped his arm around her shoulders and folded her in, her forehead resting against his sternum, his chin on her head.

He felt her smile into his chest and she fingered the zipper on his jacket.

“Lorcan, you know that I love you, right?” she whispered.

“Yeah, I know, I know that,” he responded, not letting his broken soul shine through his voice, “Love you too.”

@myfeyrelady @schmlip-scribble @kandasboi @the-regal-warrior @westofmoon @empire-of-wildfire @rhysands-highlady @city-of-fae @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tangledraysofsunshine @ttakeitbacknoww @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @lizzziebear @bamchickawowow @la7sorcellerie @julemmaes @welcometothespeaknowworldtour

#crossing lines #cl 2 #elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #isa writes #nalgenewhore #hmmmm we almost there i think

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its-ya-boi-autumn · 4 years

Text

Butterflies/Chapter 7

Hello again! I am SO SO SO sorry for the wait. I guess I had more to write than I thought I did, school started up again, and then a bunch of stuff happened with a close friend, so I nearly didn’t have time to finish it. But here it is, chapter 7, this took way too long to finish, and I’m sorry 😂 it is literally 4 am, I hope you enjoy this ~

Celestia’s eyelids fluttered closed, her head leaning into her hands on her desk. Her temples throbbed with the thoughts running through her head from that morning. What was he thinking right now? She was sure he was upset about having to stay an entire night with her, but he didn’t seem too off about it. He still gave her that gentle smile and told her to try and have a good day, right? A sigh resounded in her chest. Celestia couldn’t help but feel guilty for asking him to come over in the first place. She should have known better.

Despite her terrible feeling, his voice still bounced around the walls of her brain. The gentle melody replaying over and over again. Such a sweet sound. His words hummed in her ears, creating a warm feeling of comfort in her stomach. It made her smile subconsciously. Try to have a good day. Even after the shit show that was the previous night, he still managed to be sweet to her.

A slam shook her desk and her head. She jolted up, opening her eyes to meet Mrs. Sheila’s dark brown ones. The mere displeasure swirled in the pools of her iris’s.

“Dozing off again are we Miss Fae?” Mrs. Sheila’s voice screeched. The noise hurt Celestia’s ears so bad she thought they would actually start bleeding. It was so shrill compared to Chrollo’s pleasant lilting. Celestia tried to keep her eyes wide open to look as if she hadn’t been dozing off. She was still tired from waking up so early, however, she knew better than to pass out in a class. Especially this one.

Celestia shook her head, desperately reaching out for the words to try and explain herself. Mrs. Sheila didn’t seem the least bit accepting of the answer she wasn’t given. She stood at her full height, a tall woman with a long neck and dark skin. Her graying hair pinned up neatly into a too-tight bun to give her a sophisticated appearance. Pair that with her strangely tight-fitted dresses and her awful triangular glasses and you had what everyone would call “The Witch”. Though very cliche, the name suited the woman almost to the letter.

“Care to explain just what you were doing then?” it sounded as if she had shrieked her vocal chords to the point of maximum volume, though Celestia knew all too well the woman could be louder.

“I-I haven’t been feeling well,” she started, averting her eyes from the woman in front of her to pick at her cuticles again, throwing the thin layers of skin onto the carpeted floor, “I’ve had quite the headache this morning. I apologize for the disturbance Mrs. Sheila.” Celestia noticed she had begun to shake with how distressing the situation was becoming. Other students had begun to stare, curious as to why their lecture was being stopped. To most, it might not seem like much of a big deal, however, in Celestia’s case, detention was very much a big deal. She had no idea what her father would do to her if he had to leave work early to come and get her from school. If he would come and get her at all, that was.

An irritated groan came from Mrs. Sheila, almost childish. She rolled her eyes, setting the book she used to ‘wake’ Celestia up with back on her desk. The woman briskly stepped over the carpet to the wall phone near the door of the room. She smacked her finger against the keys, typing a number in. Celestia felt the tears already welling in her eyes.

“Hello Mr. Otis, I have a sick student down here, are you free?” she had called the nurse. It was better than the school dean for now.

“Yes... Okay, I’ll send her down immediately.” and she hung up without a thank you or a goodbye, tramping back to her desk for a slip. Celestia didn’t stand until Mrs. Sheila finished scrawling over the baby blue slip and slammed it down on Celestia’s desk.

“You can go nap in the nurses office until the end of class.” she spit down at the girl. Celestia made to grab her bag to leave.

“No no! You can leave your things here and come retrieve them when class if over. I’ll have a few words with you when you return.” she clamored on. Celestia released her bag strap and nudged her chair back, pushing it in quietly before quickly leaving with her head down. The paper crumpled in her small hands. She couldn’t even bring her phone to text Chrollo while she was away in the nurses office.

Mr. Otis’ office wasn’t too far from the history wing. Just a few hallways down and she could find all of the school offices in one spot. She kept her head down as she rapped her knuckle on the open wooden door. Mr. Otis glanced up from his paperwork, grumbling to himself in an irritated manner.

“What is it now, Fae?” Celestia could already hear the many complaints he’d have about her. Celestia often came down to the nurses office complaining of stomach aches and fatigue from not eating enough at home. Though, she never told anyone of this out of fear from her fathers reaction of the ‘news’.

“I haven’t been feeling well this morning... my head has been throbbing all day.” she picked her head up to look Mr. Otis in his miserable eyes. The man seemed so tired. Deep wrinkles created the illusion of age though Mr. Otis was only in his early forties. His short stature didn’t help either, what with his scoliosis that he never stopped complaining about to go with it.

Mr. Otis sighed loudly, turning to grab some equipment off of his desk. Celestia stayed where she was, waiting for him to perform the minor procedure he did on everyone else. Mr. Otis set up the thermometer, sheathing the long tip with a plastic covering to avoid the spread of germs from other students. He wasn’t merciful in anyway as he stabbed the frenulum under her tongue with the tip. Celestia refrained from gagging. Mr. Otis closed her mouth by clamping his hand under her jaw and forcing it up.

“Don’t bite down! You’re gonna ruin my equipment child!” he grouched. Celestia couldn’t open her mouth to protest that she hadn’t been trying to. After a quiet beep, Mr. Otis ripped it out from under her tongue and squinted down at the numbers on the screen. He rolled his eyes.

“Your temperature is perfectly fine kid, but I know Diana isn’t letting you back in that damned classroom.” he pushed a button to shoot the plastic covering off of the thermometer into the mini trash can under his desk. He hobbled over to a doorway leading into a dark room. He flipped a light switch on to reveal some blue beds with no pillows, paper placed over the leather to keep everything clean.

“I’ll let you lay down until class is over I guess.” he mumbled to her, holding the door to the room open. Celestia bowed to him in thanks even though it wasn’t custom at the school, or in her country in general. She just felt it was a kind gesture. She stepped into the room, Mr. Otis shutting the door behind her with a loud slam. Celestia jumped, looking back to see him through the window, sitting back down at his desk and continuing his paperwork.

She turned her attention to the room, then down to the slip in her hand.

He didn’t even take the slip...

Celestia bit her lip softly, grinding the skin between her teeth. She checked the clock above her head on the far wall. She only had about twenty minutes. Gulping, she sat down on the bed, the paper crinkling noisily underneath her. She tried to stay quiet in the room as not to disturb Mr. Otis during his work.

Celestia laid her head on the bed, trying to relax against the stiff leather. She curled her legs up against her chest, her hands folding under head head to form a makeshift pillow. She tucked the slip into her hands so she wouldn’t forget about it before she left to go back to class.

The bed was awfully uncomfortable. Celestia tried several times to adjust without making too much noise, though she figured now that Mr. Otis most likely couldn’t hear her anyway. The walls and the door were pretty thick, so noise wouldn’t travel very easily. Time was moving slowly and by this point she was starting to become anxious about her phone. What if Mrs. Sheila had gone through her bag? Though she wasn’t supposed to, Celestia wouldn’t put it past the woman to get into any students’ business just to get some sort of leverage to get someone in trouble.

What if she found Chrollo’s number? It would have been the first contact in her text messages. They hadn’t exchanged anything vulgar, though if Mrs. Sheila found out and ended up telling Celestia’s father, Celestia would be screwed even more than she already was. A detention on top of a strange man messaging her was like asking for death on her part.

She tossed and turned, the paper practically torn off the bed by now. Celestia knew Mr. Otis would throw a fit about it, but she was beginning to feel drowsy. The throbbing in her temples had calmed down from the less intense lighting and the relaxation of laying down. Finally able to close her eyes, she made an attempt to sleep soundly.

~§~

The door to the dimly lit room clicked, allowing the floral lighting of the nurses office to flood in invasively. Celestia turned back over, sitting up and adjusting her skirt.

“Your time is up kiddo, the bell’s about to ring. Better get a move on before that woman raises hell on me.” Mr. Otis griped lowly. He kicked the doorstop under the door so he didn’t have to sit there and hold it open for her. Celestia felt a pang of regret pierce her chest. She had passed out, yet it felt like she hadn’t relaxed enough. She could never relax though. This new individual in her life had begun to create a type of stress in her that she didn’t expect. She felt as if Chrollo couldn’t be found out about. He was special. She wanted him all to herself.

Celestia let herself stand, dusting off her skirt and tugging on her shirt to rid of anything else. She quietly stepped out of the room, standing in front of Mr. Otis. He gave her an annoyed glance.

“Um... you have to sign this still...” she set the slip in his desk, her hands shaking violently. Mr. Otis let out an exasperated sigh, snatching the paper up and scribbling his name and the time on it. He threw it back at Celestia who caught it in the midst of its flutter towards the floor. She didn’t hesitate in leaving the office immediately, wishing Mrs. Sheila hadn’t forced her to leave the classroom in the first place.

Her steps were quick through the halls, eager to get back to the room before the bell rang. She’d rather not be stampeded as she tried to enter. Just in the nick of time, Celestia had made it in front of the door, avoiding the force of it as it swung open heavily. Student poured out in the hallway, not even noticing Celestia pressed tightly against the wall. A few bags had managed to hit her in the chest and the face. She raised her arms to block them, but to no avail. Eventually the hallway cleared enough for her to slip back into the classroom.

Mrs. Sheila was sitting at her desk, her back completely straight and her eyes narrowed down at a stack of papers on the desk. She glared up at Celestia.

“I thought you wouldn’t come back.” she tsk-ed, setting the papers aside and folding her hands on the desk. Her mouth quirked in an annoyed manner. Celestia picked up her bag first, placing the straps over her shoulders before standing in front of Mrs. Sheila’s desk.

“I apologize, Mr. Otis-”

“No more excuses out of you young lady, I’ve had it this afternoon.” Mrs. Sheila cut Celestia off with the smash of her hands on her desk. Celestia jumped back, covering her mouth to hide the gasp that barely managed to still in her throat. Celestia felt Mrs. Sheila was being a bit over dramatic, though she kept the bought to herself. The Witch stood to her full height to appear dominant over Celestia. The method worked with flawless excellence, forcing Celestia to feel the utter superiority before her. With her hands planted firmly on top of her desk, she leaned over into her face.

“Care to explain why you were falling asleep in my class Miss Fae?” she tilted her head, blinking rapidly. Celestia remained in her position with her hands pulled up defensively to guard herself as if the woman would strike her. She had no words. She hadn’t been trying to, the light had just been bothering her. Of course, this wouldn’t be taken as a real answer. She’d be accused of lying again.

Mrs. Sheila stood waiting for her answer. She never got one. She scoffed, sitting down again and opening a drawer behind her desk.

“Fine then, you can explain in detention after school this afternoon!” she slapped the slip onto her desktop. In bold black letters at the top of the half sheet, DETENTION was written with a date and time, Celestia’s full name scripted in bright red ink in the bottom right corner.

Tears burned her eyes again, her hands suddenly deathly cold and trembling even more than she thought possible. She couldn’t do this. This could absolutely not be happening. She couldn’t afford a detention. She’d had a perfect record and made sure she strictly stuck to it. All of that was ruined. She’d get a call home. They’d tell her father. She was fucking dead.

“I will see you in my room after seventh period, understood?” Mrs. Sheila brought Celestia back down to reality for a moment, though her head still spun. She grasped the sheet shakily.

“Y-yes ma’am...” she whimpered. Her lips formed a tight line and she turned in her heel, ready to leave. She then remembered she didn’t have a late slip, meaning a tardy would now be piled onto her already growing misfortune. She would have asked, however standing in that room for even a moment longer may have given her panic attack more time build up and cause a scene. Celestia struggled to get her breathing back to normal before walking halfway across the school to get to her Robotics class. The teacher there was relatively forgiving, so maybe, just maybe Celestia didn’t have to take the tardy home as well.

The bell had just barely rang as she entered the room. Miss Woodley didn’t even notice Celestia walking in late. The woman wasn’t necessarily the nicest, but she was better than Mrs. Sheila. Woodley minded her business and really just gave the class time to work on their projects that they were given. She didn’t have a stroke when a student pulled their phone out of their bag to text someone, so long as they were doing their work.

Celestia did exactly that, despite the lesson for the day not having started. She knew she could have waited for a little while longer, but she needed to tell Chrollo what was going on.

You: My history teacher gave me detention and I have no idea what to do...

Chrollo: Well, did you do something to deserve it?

You: My head has been hurting all morning, so I closed my eyes to block out the bright lights and then she yelled at me, sent me to the nurse, and then when I came back to get my stuff she gave me a detention slip!

Her thumbs were shaking over the screen. Everything was going perfectly fine today and then she had to mess it up. All because she couldn’t keep her eyes open for a few minutes more.

Chrollo: Did they call your dad?

So he did know the urgency of this as well.

You: I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t doubt it all... knowing my history teacher, she likes to get kids in trouble.

Chrollo: I see...

There was no response after that. She had nothing to say either. Stumped. She dropped her phone back into her bag and turned to pay attention to the lesson being given.

~§~

Celestia couldn’t help but tremble walking back down the hall. Instead of going to the bus, she would go straight to Mrs. Sheila’s classroom. The woman sat neatly at her desk, eyeing Celestia as she came to sit down.

“Your father called just before I had the chance to call him myself. He says he was made aware of your detention not too long ago.” Mrs. Sheila warned her. Her eyes widened. He called? How did he find out? She didn’t tell him during last period, the only person who knew was...

Chrollo.

She kept in her sigh of relief, and her excitement. She couldn’t be too sure it was him, though she had a feeling anyway. Her dad couldn’t have found out. He was at work, busy as a bee, unaware that Celestia wasn’t on her bus home.

Celestia nodded in response, showing she understood. She made to read the book for the time being, but The Witch had other plans.

“So, Miss Fae, are you ready to explain yourself?” she closed her laptop and turned all of her attention on Celestia.

“I told you the truth... earlier today. I just haven’t been feeling well lately. I’m almost positive I’m coming down with a cold, this morning I was experiencing the same thing.” she wasn’t lying at all. In fact, she was saying more than she wanted to. Mrs. Sheila had the same look as Celestia’s father, searching for something to turn against Celestia. Something to punish her with. Her eyes went to scanning over her desk. Celestia waited patiently for her to finish thinking, not bothering to say anything else and possibly ruin this chance.

“Fine then, if that’s the only explanation you’ll provide then I guess that’s all I’ll get out of you. You’re here until 4:30, use your time wisely.” the woman warned before writing down some notes for tomorrow’s lesson. Another sigh of relief washed over Celestia. She would thank Chrollo for his help.

She realized then that she didn’t have much homework to do and instead would finish what she had left of Endurance so she could start working on her presentation. There was only about two or three chapters left and being given the extra two hours would give her all time she needed. She may actually have been able to finish the whole thing in one go.

Now flowing with excitement, she hurriedly read through the last couple chapters of her book, reaching down for a pencil and paper in the process so she could jot down notes. A buzz zipped through her fingertips. She’d received a message. Celestia took a glance up. Mrs. Sheila was busy on her computer with her lesson notes. Celestia grabbed up her binder and pencil case, taking her phone with it. Chrollo’s name was on her lock screen.

Chrollo: Sorry to make it so sudden, but I’ll come to pick you up. I didn’t want your dad to find out, so I called in for you. I should have asked first, but it was urgent, I apologize.

Celestia smiled. She knew she probably should have been slightly upset about the fact that he didn’t ask. Though he said it was urgent. He felt she was important. Checking to see if she was still in the clear, she replied.

You: It’s alright! Thank you so much, I really wasn’t expecting that...

She let her phone sit in her bag, getting to work on her project. She wanted to talk with Chrollo, but her schoolwork still came first. She had to prioritize that in order to at least keep some sort of record going. Another hum from inside her bag signaled Chrollo’s response to her previous message. She let it sit, not wanting to break her focus on her notes just yet.

Celestia studied her rubric to make sure she was hitting every point she needed to for her presentation. Another buzz vibrated in her bag. She wouldn’t leave him this time, picking it out to check the message.

Chrollo: Alright, just making sure. I’ll be there around 4, okay?

Chrollo: Did you want to do anything afterwards? I figured you might want to hang out for a little since going home right away may not be the best.

She hadn’t even thought about that. She figured he’d just drop her off back home and then go on his way. This time, he had chosen to initiate plans with her.

You: Sure, sounds good. Do you have anything in mind?

Chrollo: It seems to be nice enough for a walk down the beach, don’t you think?

She did think so. She could see the sunshine flowing in through the window near the back of the room. The warmth felt nice on the back of her neck.

You: Sure, that sounds nice~

Chrollo: :)

After some time, Celestia could see that time had started to move a little faster than anticipated. Next thing she knew, her notes were completely finished and her slides ready to be started. All with twenty minutes left on the clock. A smile tugged at her plump lips. Her legs swung under the desk, eager to walk her out of the classroom to see Chrollo. He must have been here by now. Just at that thought, a buzz sounded beneath her binder.

Chrollo: Here now, sorry I’m a little late.

You: it’s fine, I don’t get out for another 20 minutes, don’t worry about it.

Chrollo: Really? That woman said 4!

You: Guess I would have been in more trouble then, she told me 4:30, my dad would have had me because of that...

Chrollo: :(

The knowledge of him being in the parking lot not too far from her made her even more energetic. She checked the clock again. Eighteen minutes left. She groaned in her head. Of course time would move slower now than ever. She tried to find something else to finish up, but she really didn’t feel like doing her slides just yet. Instead, she sat there, bored out of her mind and waiting for the time to tick by. She watched the red dial circle around the clock several times over, wishing for the big hand to hurry and hit the four on the clock. Ten more minutes. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five more to go. Celestia began packing up, neatly placing everything back into her bag. She stood, staying near her desk as not to alarm Mrs. Sheila. The woman glanced up anyway, checking the clock to see if Celestia was just standing for no reason.

“Alright, I’ll let you out a little early. You actually did work the whole time. Now leave before I change my mind.” she ordered, going back to scribbling on her paperwork. Celestia bowed lightly even though Mrs. Sheila didn’t see it, leaving the classroom quickly. The exit doors were just a few lefts and rights down the halls. It didn’t take long to see the glass doors in the distance.

She pushed them open, seeing Chrollo’s car immediately out front. She beamed at him through the window, bounding for him. She opened the door, sliding in and throwing her bag in the back seat before buckling up.

“Hey, how was detention?” Chrollo started, setting his phone down and starting the car. He urged it forward, ready to go.

“Awful! I finished all my work and then there wasn’t anything to do, I just have the slides for my presentation left to do and then I should be ready for next month.” she explained, gazing out the window. Watching the sycamore trees fly by was pleasing to the eye. She heard a soft chuckle from behind her.

“That’s good at least, less work for later. Are you hungry at all? After all that hard work, surely you must want something to eat first before a long walk.” he suggested, not taking his eyes off the road. As if on cue, Celestia’s stomach grumbled lowly.

“I’ll take that as a yes then. The café alright again?” he laughed lightheartedly. Celestia blushed to herself, giggling with him.

“Yeah, that works.” she replied. She held her stomach as if her arms could muffle the obscene noises erupting from it. Chrollo didn’t say anything about it and didn’t seem bothered much by it. Maybe he couldn’t even hear it. Still, she remained self-conscious of the noises emitting from her body. Normally she was used to going without food and her stomach wouldn’t make a peep. Though of course her body would embarrass her in front of Chrollo.

Celestia crossed her legs in the seat, letting her back relax against the leather and her eyes wander over the middle compartment. It was so clean. Coins weren’t stuck in the cup holders with unknown sticky substances, cords were placed neatly in the cubby, and there was no paper scattered about the compartment either. Chrollo’s phone lay inside the cubby, turned over so he had no distractions. This made her even more comfortable, knowing he prioritized his own safety over everything else.

The sound of Mozart hummed through the speakers, soothing her even more. Chrollo must have started a playlist up before she got in the car, knowing what her tastes were already. She still preferred Beethoven, though Mozart was proving to be exceptional as well. The sound soothed her, warming her arms and her legs and giving her a fuzzy swelling feeling in her chest.

The café was now coming into view. Celestia’s stomach got excited and started making noises again. She sighed, pain rumbling in her abdomen.

“We’re almost there. You can have whatever you want as well.” Chrollo reminded her affectionately. Celestia smiled, not looking over at him. She waited for Chrollo to pull into a parking spot before taking off her seat belt at all. She opened the door before he could get out and do it for her, laughing at his shocked face.

“And to think you enjoyed my courtesy~” he teased, turning his nose up in the air. Celestia giggled in return.

“I do! You were just being slow.” she continued his little game. Chrollo gaped at her, leading the two of them into the café. She laughed aloud at him, rolling her eyes at his fake shock. The café was bustling today, a small line even formed before them. This brought a wave of anxiety through Celestia, causing her to gravitate towards Chrollo. She didn’t notice her fingers fisting into the sleeve of his shirt around his forearm. He glanced down, noting her sudden alarm. Chrollo made sure to stay close to help her feel a little safer.

Once it was their turn, Chrollo ordered for the both of them. The same two black coffees and a couple sandwiches to go with it. He led her over to the pick up line so they could wait. She didn’t let go of his sleeve for a second, gripping tighter and even tugging him even closer to her.

“You’re alright, I’m right here.” Chrollo tried to settle her nerves, moving to rub the top of her back gently. He didn’t linger too long, just enough as a reminder of his presence. She grabbed onto his sleeve again, though less urgently. He was pleased with the response.

Their sandwiches and coffee came up once they reached the front of the line. Celestia let go of Chrollo so she could handle the sandwiches while Chrollo grabbed up the coffee. However, Chrollo didn’t sit down anywhere. Instead, he walked right out the door, checking behind him to see if Celestia would follow.

“Come on, Tia. I have a better spot for us to eat, one less crowded.” he explained while holding open the door for her to exit through. She didn’t hesitate, toddling to him and swerving past other people.

“Are we going to the beach now?” she asked, bouncing eagerly. Chrollo smiled.

“I figured I’d be easier for you to eat there. There won’t be as many people where I plan to take us.” Chrollo set the coffee cups down in the cup holders, starting the car back up again. Celestia held the sandwiches in her hands, folded nicely in plastic wrap and then placed in a pink and white striped bag. Chrollo drove out of the parking lot to start heading for the beach. The sun was beginning to set now that it was almost 6, the air starting to chill. The beach wasn’t too far from the little café.

“Are we gonna sit at the tables near the pier?” Celestia asked. She’d never even been to the pier before. She’d been to the beach twice and both were on completely separate occasions. One for the time her parents got married and the other for when her mother took her because a friend of theirs was going and asked if Celestia wanted to go with. Her mother had been hesitant at first to let her go, but she ended up going along anyway.

“Better.” he answered shortly, a smile playing at his lips. Celestia didn’t know what might be better than eating by the pier. The view was absolutely breathtaking and she’d love to share her first experience with him. She didn’t say anything further, waiting for his surprise. Chrollo did in fact pull into the small parking area near the pier, though he drove past the tables and the stores and people nearby. Instead, he parked next to the wooden structure.

“Follow me.” he ordered softly, unbuckling himself and getting out of the car. Celestia followed suit closely. She realized immediately that Chrollo was taking her directly over the pier. Her eyes widened and she smiled, gasping in excitement. Chrollo turned to her, smiling.

“You get it now?” he tittered. Celestia nodded excitedly, skipping next to him now. Chrollo continued to examine her reaction. The childlike nature she possessed, he was envious of it. Such a light individual despite her home life. She radiated pure energy in the moment, looking as if she could explode in glitter any minute. Fascinating.

Chrollo led her to the very end. There weren’t any tables or chairs, just the edge of the pier and the beautiful view of the setting sun. He thought about how she may not actually be able to get out much and decided this would be a nice view for her to enjoy. Chrollo sat at the edge, taking a glance behind him to motion for Celestia to sit down. She was a bit hesitant. The water was shining up at her, beckoning her closer as if it was a jewel. She knew the dangers of the deep however, and felt a sudden wish of anxiety wash over her. She sat close to Chrollo, not letting her feet dangle over the edge as he did.

He set their coffees in between them, taking a ham and cheddar sandwich from one of her hands.

“I’ve never seen the sunset like this...” she admitted, unwrapping her sandwich and beginning to eat. She took a bigger bite than she planned to, not paying much attention. She was engrossed in the view before her. It hurt to stare at the sun, but she wanted this moment burned into her memory. She wouldn’t get her hopes up, but she planned to have many more moments like this with Chrollo. It was then she realized it hadn’t even been a full week that she’d known him, and she already felt closer to him than she had with anyone else. She felt secure and safe with him. She felt like she could talk to him about anything. Maybe she could tell him about her dad, but she didn’t want to ruin this.

“So,” Chrollo started, finishing chewing before continuing, “I apologize for possibly ruining this moment for you, but now that we know we’re alone and no one will hear... Tell me, why does your father treat you that way?” he practically read her mind. She wanted to tell him, but the subject still made her nervous to speak of. Like her father was listening in from somewhere. Celestia set her sandwich down, taking a sip of her cooled down coffee.

“I don’t know.” she started, unsure of how to continue for a few seconds. He asked so bluntly, there was no room for avoidance.

“Before my dad got his job, things were a little better. More so I just wasn’t paid attention to like I am now.” her hands started to shake and her voice cracked gently.

“We don’t have to talk if you’re not comfortable...” Chrollo leaned forward to look her in the eyes. She wasn’t crying yet, but she could feel the subtle burn as the tears built up in her eyes.

“No... I feel like it isn’t fair if I don’t explain it. I can’t really expect someone to be my friend if I refuse to tell them about things that are this important.” she conceded, setting her food in her lap. She couldn’t bring herself to look back up at him, but she could feel his eyes on her.

“Ever since he got that job with Angel May, he’s just been different. Like I said, he never really paid attention to me as a little kid, but now it’s like he expects me to be perfect. Like I’ll ruin his life if I step out of line. Even though most people don’t even know he has a kid in the first place.” she explained to start. She didn’t know how much to tell him or how much not to. She was just going with the flow at this point.

“What does your father do for Angel May?” Chrollo requested. He already knew the answer, but he had to be as oblivious as possible. He may even be able to acquire new information as well. Celestia shrugged though.

“I don’t really know what he does at work. I just know he’s kind of like a security guard almost, but specifically for Angel May. He’s a big guy, so usually most people don’t even mess with him.” she answered quietly. The image of her father crossed her mind. A monster of a man, big and burly, unlike anyone she’d ever seen before. The long messy brown hair and aggressive brown eyes, the man was a boar by physic and by nature.

Chrollo was slightly disappointed, though not surprised. He hadn’t actually expected her to know. If she did, he may have let his facade slip. He knew Nicholas was the top man of Angel May’s men. He worked with her to organize plans and duties for the city mostly and then took care of anything that Angel May couldn’t do herself. He also had been assigned to tabulate the rather large party being held at her home across town.

“It’s possible that the stress from being in such a high position could cause him to act that way. However, it in no way justifies his actions in hurting you. You don’t deserve that.” Chrollo ranted a little. He couldn’t catch himself in time to stop. He casually took another bite of the sandwich, trying to seem nonchalant.

“What if I do though?” she started. Chrollo turned back to her, his brows furrowed under the wrap around bandage on his forehead.

“What if I did something in a previous life or something like that? Reincarnation makes sense to me I guess, I don’t exactly know how to explain it. But what if there was something I did that warranted this punishment?” she uttered the words quietly, more to herself than to him. She had no other explanation for it. Bad people received bad things, right? That was how it was supposed to work right?

Chrollo didn’t really know how to respond. Was that really what she thought about all of this?

“I guess that would make sense. What could you have done though?” Chrollo was now intrigued by the conversation more than he thought he would be. Another shrug. She pulled her knees up to her chest, letting her chin rest on top of them sadly.

“I’m honestly not sure. I haven’t thought too much into it, it’s just a reason because I can’t really think of another.” she finished, taking a few more bites of her sandwich. Chrollo could probably give her a million other possible reasons, but he let her have her belief. As much as he wanted to change that. The thought of her thinking she deserved this, whether from a past life or her current one, irked him in a strange way. Celestia was not a bad person. He didn’t know her very well personally, but Chrollo was incredibly perceptive. He just knew there was nothing she could have done to deserve the life she was living. There was no good reason for abuse, even he knew that.

Celestia finally finished her sandwich, their coffees cold and the sky now orange and pink above them. Chrollo studied her features again as she watched the sun rest beyond the water. She turned, hazel eyes greeting his grey gaze innocently.

“Thank you for tonight, I had an amazing time. I’d guess it’s time you take me home though, we don’t want another incident like last night.” she stood, dusting off her school uniform. Amazing. She acted as if nothing had happened. As of the minor conversation and their shared words were irrelevant. Chrollo pried his eyes from her, picking up the trash before it had a chance to wind up into the water.

“Of course, Tia. I had a pleasant time as well with you.” Chrollo began strolling back to the car, Celestia never too far behind. These odd new feelings, the realization of her mannerisms, and subtle imperfections in her features he began to notice. He was beginning to notice something profound. Not only did Celestia bloom when she was with Chrollo, but Chrollo was beginning to think his aura would bloom when he was with her.

#chrollo lucilfer #chrollo #cute i guess?#fluffy #my work #fanfiction #fanfic #hxh #Hunter X Hunter #anime #it took too long #to write this

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