#can you tell that i cooked this premise up when i was a seventeen year old obsessed w kpop

[ppjeterka]

i have a crazily elaborate au premise i outlined for a fic i was planning on writing for a pairing three fandoms ago and i'm seriously considering adapting it to fit hrpf now

[raineydays411]

Trauma does really bond

Umbrella academy x teen!reader

Summary: You were number eight, The Healer. With the power to heal anything you touch. Or at least you would be, if the world knew about you.

A/n: I know I said new fics on Friday but I couldn’t wait lol

Everybody knows the story of the Umbrella Academy. Seven children, adopted by an eccentric billionaire, forced to become superheros and eventually fizzled out of the limelight.  

But know one knows about you. 

You were the eighth child Reginald Hargreeves adopted. You were Y/n Hargreeves, age 17. Everyone knows that the seven siblings were all born at the same time, and day. So how are you 17?

Well basically the same thing, but when your mother spontaneously gave birth to you, she handed you over to Reginald within a heartbeat and as far as he knows, you were the only spontaneous birth on y/bd. So he took you in. Now he wasn’t completely sire that you would get powers. For all he knew, your mother just didn’t want you. But all that changed when you were just 6 years old. 

You had stumbled upon a mouse that was squirming in a mouse trap while exploring the attic. You felt so bad for the poor thing that you had set it free. You cradled it in your hands, as you teared up at the sight of it twitching when suddenly you felt it. It was like magic, you felt each bone and nerve that was broken heal until the mouse was once again moving, full of life. You ran out the attic, mouse in hand. Running all the way to your fathers office, barging in despite his protests.

“Y/n Hargreeves, how many times must I tell you--” “ I’m sorry father, but look!” you cut him off, thrusting the healed mouse towards him.

“Number eight. You interrupted my studies to show me vermin?” 

“No father! I healed him! He was in the mouse trap and I healed him!” You exclaim. That caught Reginalds attention. 

“You healed it?” He asks eyeing the mouse, “ How?”

“I dunno” you shrug, “ I just felt bad and touched him”

Reginald hums, standing from his desk and walks over to you. 

“Come with me.” He says, leading you out the study with a hand on your back. 

From then on he put you through brutal training. Nicking you with knives I see if you could heal yourself, bringing you hurt animals to heal, injured people. Then it escalated. He brought in people who were on the brink of death, comatose. He forced you to heal them, despite it taking all your energy. There were multiple times where you ended up collapsing, sobbing and exhausted from healing too many people in one day. He forced you to get up, and heal some more claiming,

“You have been given a gift. It would be selfish of you to hoard it just because you get a little tired”

Not to mention the brutal physical training. Because you had no siblings, he made training robots. They, unlike humans, did not hold back. Forcing you to fight as if you were actually trying to survive. And if you lost, you weren’t able to heal yourself.

Now all this training would have made some sense if you were going out into the world and saving lives. You weren’t. Reginald didn’t allow it. You were to stay on the premises, 24/7, 365 days a year. He claimed

“The world is cruel Number Eight. You are not yet ready to face the harshness that is reality. It is best to keep you here until you are.”

So alone you were. Well not totally alone, you did have Grace an Pogo. And you had Luther but all he did was missions and avoid you so he didn’t really count. But Grace and Pogo? They were your best friends. Grace was practically your mother. She sang to you, brushed your hair, tucked you in, told you about your “siblings”, and taught you how to bake and cook as well as other things. She like you, wasn’t allowed to leave, so you felt like she understood you. Pogo, taught you everything you know. He helped you learn seven languages, he sat and was forced to listen to you learn the piano, violin, and guitar, he was the one who snuck you Vanyas book and answered any questions that Grace couldn’t. And he was the one who sat with you in the attic as you both looked out at a city that didn’t know you existed.

You secretly longed for the day you were able to leave. If not training or doing school work, you could be found gazing out the attic window, or outside in the courtyard staring up at the sky. Despite being in a huge mansion, you felt trapped. You have read almost every book in the house, including Luthers research that he sent from the moon, Fives old theories, and Allison’s diary. You started meditating, yoga, and even picking up little hobbies like scrapbooking or candles making. You learned different ways to play chess, ballroom dancing ( your father insisted), how to read music, and so many other things. You were so smart and yet so naive. You, theoretically knew the cruel realities of the world, having read them in books and such. But you never experienced them. You had no human contact other than your father (and Luther till he was sent to the moon). You knew battlefield medic techniques but not simple everyday things. Hell, not even your so called siblings knew that you existed except Luther and he was sworn to secrecy. Not like he payed attention to you anyway. You weren’t even allowed to watch movies or listen to modern music. Just whatever records Luther had, and the Walkman you found up in the attic. But secretly, at night when you crept into the attic, you can see into the apartment across from you. Their large tv playing movies and you were able to watch. Playing classics like Dirty Dancing and Grease, action, and scary movies that scarred you for life. But it was your escape. You couldn’t hear the words but you made them up. A little world all to yourself, your little secret. You yearned for that moment when you could leave. Leave behind strict schedules and brutal training. Leave behind empty halls and loneliness. But you knew it wasn’t coming soon.

Not over your fathers dead body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your father is dead.

You didn’t realize it at first, having been extremely exhausted for some reason. You went to bed early saying good night to everyone and promptly passing out. But you know that your father was fine. Healthy even, as you could sense it with your powers. So when you woke up and reached out, sensing your family as you always did, you knew something was wrong. You couldn’t feel your father. Not how you used to. It felt like...like the dead bodies he used to force you to heal.

You leapt out of bed and dashed to his room, heart racing as you passed a humming Grace. You burst into the room, seeing him collapsed against the bed, limp and eyes closed.

“Nononono father?! Father can you hear me?!” You say rushing to his side. You feel for a pulse but find nothing, noticing his cold skin. You start CPR, like he trained you to do.

“ Father?! Father please!” You start to cry, tears running down your face as you race to save him. But deep down you knew...you couldn’t heal a dead body.

“ MOM” you scream desperately, starting to use your powers, “ POGO”

You start to get light head, your basically pouring your energy into this dead body. Your powers kickstart the healing process, accelerating it 10 times it’s usual rate allowing for quick healing. But if the bodies dead...it can’t heal itself and you basically just heal superficial wounds but not bring them back. 

“Father...” you start to slur, you’re running out of energy and he still hasn’t woken up. “Father you have to wake up...don’t leave me...”

Your world starts spinning as you fight to stay awake. Desperate to save the man you consider as your father. But you collapse. The world fading in and out as you see two silhouettes hover over you.

“ oh y/n...” a voice softly says. You feel someone touch your head and you succumb to the darkness. Feeling helpless as you realize one thing.

Reginald Hargreeves is dead.

That night, around the country seven siblings find out that their father has died. And make plans to come home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were unconscious for the whole day.

You woke up letting yesterday’s events wash over you. You cry. Not for the man, cause let’s face it he’s an asshole, but because of what he represented. He was part of your family. Your world that only consisted of three.

And you couldn’t save him.

And let’s face it, he was your father. He kind of raised you for seventeen years. You had to care about him.

After calming down, you reach out. You try to feel for Pogo or Grace, but you can sense the presence of two people you’ve never met. So you force yourself out of bed, and creep down the hallway. Your room right closer to Reginalds as it was the only room left. So you snuck into the main room, seeing your mother staring into space.

“Momma?” You whisper, catching Graces attention.

“ Oh Y/n dear, you woke up.” Grace says with a smile standing and stroking your face, “ Darling, your in your night clothes, you know the rules.”

Your eyes water as you throw yourself in her arms. Feeling like a child.

“ I..I tried momma..I really did”

You feel her arms wrap around you, “ Do you want breakfast, you haven’t eaten in 12 hours and 15 minutes.”

You were confused. Why was she acting like nothing has happened?

“Momma I-“ “Mom?”

A male voice cuts you off. You freeze, not knowing who the voice belongs to. His presence unfamiliar.

“Diego, welcome home are you hungry?” Grace says, “I was just going to make breakfast for Y/n” she squeezed you gently before letting you go to turn to Diego.

You hide behind her, like a child. Peaking over her shoulder to get a glimpse at the man. He was average height, Hispanic most likely, wearing all black with a harness and some knives. He had short hair and a scar on the side of his face. He looked at you then Grace in disbelief or shock. You can feel that he was healthy, just a bit sore.

“Um mom who’s that?” He asks gesturing to you.

“Oh I suppose you haven’t met yet. Diego, this is..well why don’t you introduce yourself.” She says to you. Your eyes widen and shake your head.

“Come on dear, just like we practiced. Go on.” Grace nudges you in front of her. Setting a comforting hand on your back.

“ hello...my names y/n Hargreeves. It’s lovely to meet you.” You say softly, and then you give a shy smile.

“Hargreeves?” Diego asks, shocked, “ I don’t understand...how?”

“ Y/n is just like you and your siblings.” Pogo chimes in, startling the three of you.

“ She came to us 17 years ago, just as the six of you left. Your father kept her secret as he did many things.  She has remarkable abilities just as you and your siblings. ”

Diego looks at you, sizing you up and taking you in. “Why didn’t we know about this?” He asks Pogo.

“ Your father had his reasons. He believed she wasn’t ready to see the outside world. She has been here her whole life.”

Diego scoffs, “ What? It wasn’t enough that he ruin our lives, he had to start again?”

He looks at you, “ Welcome to the family, kid.”

Then he walks off. You look at Grace and Pogo

“ Did..did I do something wrong?” You ask.

“ Oh no, Diego is just...on edge. You did great.” Grace says cupping your cheek.

“ I am glad that you are alright Y/n. It’s good to see you up and about.” Pogo says with a comforting smile.

“ thank you..” you say, “ there’s another person here..a woman.”

“Yes, well I think it is time you meet your sister. Come along.” Pogo says, leading you to the kitchen.

Oh boy...

[mega-aulover]

Hi all new story I’m working on the working title doesn’t convey what the story is about.

@itellhimreal​ @justajjfan​ Un-beta’d yet I have a premise @567inpanem​ the working title is The Arrow and the Wolf but it has a lot of fantasy and a far off-planet where it’s knights and a warlock a creature that is cursed. Ect. What do you guys think?

“Nice Shot!” Gale shouted as he leaped down from the tree.

Startled, Katniss quickly notched her bow and aimed it at her cousin Gale.

“Whoa little cuz,” Gale said, holding up his hands.

“Gale!” Katniss grunted.  She put her bow down. “I could’ve shot you through the eye!”

Gale gave her that cheesy grin that annoyed her, but for some reason all of the girls loved. She scowled, pushing past him to the turkey she shot. “This is for dinner.”

“Why are you so grumpy?”

Katniss wanted to say something nasty to him, but the fact was she couldn’t she at their mercy. She was penniless, her parents and sister died in a car accident two years ago. The local court sent her to live with her cousins in the backwoods of the Appalachian Mountains. Hazelle was a tough no-nonsense widow who kept her family in line. They were cramped in a small house. But it was preferable to the orphanage that lent the kids to the workhouses.

Though there were times they treated her as the help than a member of the family.

“Cause I have to look at you.”

Gale laughed.  He picked up a twig off the floor he twirled it in his hands.

“What are you doing home early?”

“There was an accident at the mines, they had to shut down.” Gale threw the stick on the ground. “Lost a half day’s wages. Maw sent me over ta’make sure you’re huntin.”

Money was tight. The 1930s were hard on many people. Many all over the country. Many lost their jobs, homes, every last penny. It’s why she was hunting in the forest to help feed them. Gale had taken a job working in the mines. It was illegal to poach as this land belonged to the mines. If they found her, they could imprison her. However, Katniss would have preferred getting caught than having to face Hazelle’s wrath.

“Tell your maw I’ve been productive, I got us a turkey and some rabbits.” Katniss swallowed, “If you want you can take these up to the cabin. I am going fishing, tell her I’ll be late.”

“Good,” Gale stood up. “I’ll take them home and give maw the message. Don’t be too late.”

Katniss breathed easier when Gale was gone. He was a lot like his mother, stern, easily angered, and bossy. She was seventeen and longed for freedom and yet she craved a place to belong. Katniss made her way through the brush and the high grass looking for the signs of the river.

Her stomach grumbled she was hungry. Hazelle fed her kids first and if there was anything left, then Hazelle would share with her. Last night she didn’t get to eat nor this morning. It was a dry year, and the river was low. She hoped she’d be able to catch some fish.

Sitting on the banks she found her fishing pole and walked to where the water was deeper. She set the pole and then sitting down next to it she looked around for something to eat. She found a Katniss tuber, her paw always said if she could find herself she would never be hungry. Katniss pulled it out of the water rinsed it off and the pole dipped into the water. She licked her lips and pulled out the fish. Her plan was to eat one of the fishes and save the rest for Hazelle.

Pulling out the fish it wasn’t a big one, but it was a good size for Katniss. She set the pole back into the water and set to cleaning the fish and making a small fire to cook it with the tubers.  

“My, my sure is a hot day outside.” An elderly voice startled Katniss.

Jumping up, she turned to see a woman with white hair. She looked like a hobo, but her eyes were like mysterious pools. The woman’s eyes reminded Katniss of her mother’s eyes. There were times Katniss swore her mothers’ eyes glowed. Her mother would often tell her their blood contained magic. Katniss shuttered a little, there was deep magic tainted in the woman’s eyes. It drew Katniss to the old woman like a moth to the flame. “Who are you?”

“I am so hungry,” the woman said looking at the small meal Katniss made.

Katniss sighed, “Would you like some?”

“You’d share your meal with me?” The old woman sounded shocked by the generosity. Food was a commodity. Because there were so many people who were hungry charity wasn’t a virtue that was high on most people’s lists. Self-preservation was. But her parents were neighborly, and they taught her to share.

“My paw used to say nothing brings people closer together like breaking bread together.”  

“Your paw was a good man,” the old woman said. “Kindhearted and loyal, just like you.”

The way she stared at Katniss made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. However, she pushed back her trepidation and served the old woman first. She checked on the line and found it was empty.

“This is delicious,” the woman said eating.

Katniss smiled happily when she took a bite of the tender fish. She ate slowly, typically she ate out here but her guilt for eating caused her to hunt and forage for a greater amount of food.

“I am sorry I cannot offer you anything to drink,” Katniss began to clean up.

“Tis noworry my dear, you have been most gracious and for that, I give you a gift.” The old woman said.

“No, please no.” Katniss put her hands up not wanting anything she couldn’t explain to Hazelle. “It’s not necessary.” She bent down and picked up her bow and arrows. If she came home with anything that wasn’t fish, Hazelle would become suspicious that could cause problems. Katniss had to make sure her reputation was spotless.

“I grant you the one thing you desire the most,” the old woman said. She took out a pearl necklace and put it around Katniss' neck.

As soon as the necklace fell around her neck, everything spun around her and she was pulled into a vortex. Katniss screamed as she fell backward, stars rushed by her eyes and the earth looked smaller and smaller as she was pulled into a deep dark abyss. 

[emospritelet]

Empty Corridors - Chapter 31

Thankfully my muse has returned after pretty much a three-week vacation due to the flu.  Last time, Lacey told her father she was moving in with Gold and had been accepted to college, and he was basically a terrible, awful person and made her cry :(

AO3 link

Lacey managed to make it home before she broke down completely, curled on the couch as her body was wracked with sobs, her throat hurting, her eyes stinging with the salt of her tears.  She wasn’t certain what it was that had upset her so.  Perhaps the knowledge that he didn’t love her, didn’t even care for her.  Perhaps the sense that she now had no relatives that she could reach out to.  She knew that part of it was anger, for his refusal to recognise how much she had learned and grown in the past six months, but mostly she was grieving for the loss of another parent, for she knew that he would be out of her life from that moment on, as if he had died.  As if she were truly an orphan.

When she finally stopped, she felt drained of energy and desperately sad.  The kittens seemed to sense that she was upset, each of them snuggling close or patting her with soft paws, purring loudly.  She buried her nose in their fur, squeezing the last of the tears from her eyes.

“Gotta stop this crap,” she said, her voice muffled.  “I’m guessing he never once shed a tear for me, huh?”

Severus rubbed his head against her cheek, and she scratched his ears.

“Enough,” she said, with a sigh.  “We have to get everything ready to move to your dad’s place, okay?”

She petted the kittens for a little longer, until they fell asleep, and then pushed herself up on unsteady legs and went to wash her face and check that everything was packed.  The apartment seemed strange with its shelves bare of her things, but she supposed she would feel at home in Gold’s house before long.  The kittens would like exploring the gardens, certainly, and she smiled briefly at the thought of one of them bringing in something they shouldn’t.  Hopefully the bird population wouldn’t suffer.

There was still a little time before Gold was due to collect her, and so she decided to start taking boxes downstairs to make it easier to carry them out to his car.  He would be redecorating and then letting the apartment once she was out, and the thought of someone else being in the place she had called home for five years was odd.  The apartment had been special to her: she had proven at the age of seventeen that she could care for herself and hold down a job and keep a roof over her head.  Looking back, she wondered why she had been down on herself for so long.  There were plenty of people twice her age who couldn’t say the same.  She thought she would miss the apartment, with its snug bedroom and tiny kitchen and its memories of drunken nights with Ruby for company.  She wasn’t sorry to be leaving, though.  Not considering where she was going.

Gold arrived promptly at seven, and Lacey tried to return his smile as best she could when she opened the door.  He frowned at her expression.

“You’ve been crying,” he observed, and she pulled a face.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice barely audible.  “Doesn’t matter.  Let’s start taking this stuff out to the car.”

She moved to pass him, but he stopped her with a finger beneath her chin, lifting her head a little, his touch gentle.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have a total arsehole for a father,” she said bitterly.  “Not that that’s something I didn’t already know.”

He watched her steadily, and she sighed.

“He says I’m a disgrace,” she said, her voice dull.  “Even after I told him about college.  He says I’m a drunken tramp and he can hardly bear to look at me.”

Gold caressed her cheek, his eyes soft, and she leaned into his touch.

“Oh, Lacey, I’m sorry,” he whispered, and she shrugged, feeling the tears prick her eyes again.

“I’ll be okay,” she said.  “Made me realise that there’s nothing there to fight for anymore.  Sometimes you just have to cut ties with the toxic people in your life, right?”

He nodded, and pulled her into a hug.  His scent was comforting, his body warm and firm, and she let herself relax into him, feeling some of the sadness leave her.

“Sometimes that’s best,” he agreed.  “Is that what you want to do?”

Lacey shrugged a little.

“Well, he only makes me miserable,” she said.  “Nothing I do will ever be good enough, and honestly I’m tired of being the one who tries to keep a relationship going with him when he bloody hates me.  I don’t think that’s how family’s supposed to be.”

“No,” said Gold quietly.  “I don’t suppose it is.”

He kissed the top of her head, and she looked up at him.

“Maybe it’s best that I’ll be spending more time in Boston soon,” she added.  “Otherwise I’ll just have to ignore him whenever I see him, and that’s - ugh, that’s just gonna make me feel like crap on a daily basis.”

Gold’s mouth thinned a little, and Lacey suspected that the next time Moe French was late with his rent, there would be consequences.

“As you say,” he said.  “Sometimes it’s best to just cut toxic people out.”

Gold found that having Lacey in his house was every bit as wonderful as he had anticipated.  Having lived alone for so long, coming home to someone who loved him made him ridiculously happy, and he was certain that he spent most of the first few weeks with a stupid grin on his face.  They took it in turns to make breakfast; she could now cook eggs and bacon without burning anything, and was talking about learning how to make pancakes and French toast.  He was usually awake before her, though, and he had to admit that he enjoyed bringing her breakfast in bed.  Especially when it led to other things.

The kittens had settled in well; they had already considered his house to be theirs anyway, in his opinion, but it was admittedly nice to have one of them curled on his lap in the evening when he and Lacey sat on the couch to read and talk.  He bought them a larger basket, as they were growing fast, but they spent as much time sleeping on his and Lacey’s bed as they did in the kitchen.  He didn’t care in the least.

Lacey had been a little subdued for the first few days, and Gold knew it was because of her father.  His anger had raged and burned, his desire to thrash Moe within an inch of his life almost too much to contain.  He had tamped it down, though, the flaring heat of his fury shrinking to glowing embers, and then becoming something cold and calculating.

It was two weeks later that he had the chance to do something about it.

Lacey had informed him that she would be cooking a casserole that evening, a recipe that Granny had given her and that she thought she could handle.  She had left the shop at four to make a start on it, and he had taken the opportunity to deliver a letter that had given him a great deal of pleasure to write.  He had dropped it on the counter of the flower shop when Moe was serving another customer, briefly locking eyes with the man before smirking and sauntering out.  It was only a matter of time before he would get a reaction.

Gold waited, fingers drumming slowly on the counter in time with the clock’s low, rhythmic ticking.  Eventually the door to the shop burst open with a frantic tinkling of the bell, and Moe French stormed up to the desk with the letter in his hand, his eyes almost popping with fury and a large vein standing out on his forehead.  With any luck the man would have a heart attack.  Gold sent him a thin smile.

“Ah,” he said pleasantly.  “Mr French.  I’ve been expecting you.”

“What the bloody hell is this?” demanded Moe, waving the letter at him.  Gold showed his teeth.

“Are you having difficulty reading?” he asked.  “It’s your eviction notice.”

“You can’t evict me!”

“I think you’ll find I can.”

“I’ve put my entire life into that shop!” protested Moe.

“A fact that is unfortunately not evidenced by the payment of rent,” said Gold dispassionately.  “You’re late.  For the fourth time in as many months.  I have to cut my losses at some point.  If you return home, you’ll find a similar notice in respect of the house I rent to you.”

“I can get you the rent!”

“Then why haven’t you, pray tell?” drawled Gold.  “Despite my previous warnings you have failed to see fit to hold up your end of our agreement.  On multiple occasions, I might add.”

“Business is patchy after Christmas, you know that!” snapped Moe.

“It’s now March,” said Gold coldly.  “And didn’t you assure me that your fortunes would change with the Valentine’s Day turnover?  It appears I was misled into being unduly generous.  I promised myself I wouldn’t make the same mistake again, and you know how I like to keep my word.”

“You can’t do this to me!” blustered Moe.  “You’ve got no right!”

“I have every right!” snarled Gold, the words hissing out through his teeth.  “And not only is it my right, Mr French, it is my absolute pleasure!  If you had any sense you’d leave this town where you’re clearly deeply unhappy and make a fresh start elsewhere.”

“With what?” demanded Moe.  “You’ve left me with nothing!”

“Well, perhaps if you didn’t piss all your profits up the wall every weekend, it wouldn’t be an issue,” snapped Gold.  “I’m not a fucking charity!”

“No, you’re not,” said Moe, scowling.  “You’re a bloody bastard!”

Gold gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and walked out from behind the counter, his cane tapping on the floor.

“You’ve been given the period of notice to quit the premises as agreed under the contract that you signed and to which you failed to adhere,” he said quietly.  “I expect you gone by the date in said notice.”

Moe sent him a smile, which was more of an ugly grimace.

“This is about that daughter of mine, isn’t it?” he sneered.  “I might have known.  What, she needs you to fight her battles, does she?”

“I’m not aware that the two of you are at war,” said Gold, in a cold voice.  “Miss French informs me that she no longer wishes to maintain a relationship with you.  I think that considering your appalling behaviour, this is in her best interests.”

“And you’ll put me on the street to make sure of it, right?”  Moe curled his lip.  “You’re a snake, you know that?”

“I’ll put you on the street because you owe me money, Mr French, it’s as simple as that,” said Gold, sounding bored.  “Now get out of my shop.  This conversation is over.”

“It’s over when I say so!”

Moe swung a punch at him, and Gold ducked out of the way, feeling a whoosh of air as a fist narrowly missed his nose.  He raised the cane immediately, throwing it up into the air and catching it near the bottom before swinging it around to catch Moe in the ribs.  Already off-balance from his wildly-thrown punch, Moe stumbled to the ground with a yell of pain, and Gold struck him again.  Rage surged within him; bottled up for too long, it had seethed and fermented and now exploded outwards.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re dealing with?” he said through his teeth.  “You think you can screw me over and attack me without consequence?”

He whacked Moe again, relishing the hoarse cry of pain, and Moe held up pleading hands.

“Gold!  Please!”

Gold pressed the handle of the cane against his throat, making him choke, and leaned down, his nostrils flaring.

“Shut.  The fuck.  Up!” he breathed.  “I want you gone as soon as you can pack your filthy belongings and get out of my property, do you understand me?”

He was staring into Moe’s eyes, enjoying the pain and terror in them.  The tinkle of the shop’s bell barely registered.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?”

“Mind your own business!” snarled Gold, glancing around.  His heart gave a lurch as he saw who it was.  A dark-haired man in his late twenties, familiar brown eyes flicking from his face to Moe and back again.  Gold straightened up, grounding the cane.

“Bae!” he whispered, and his son’s mouth flattened.

“It’s Neal,” he said coldly.  “Neal Cassidy.”

“You - you changed your name?”

Well, that hurt.  He supposed he should have expected it, but it still hurt.

“Wanted a clean slate,” said Neal, folding his arms.  “Worked, too, until I had a visit from your girlfriend.”

“Lacey came to see you?”

Gold was stunned.  Why hadn’t she told him?

“Yeah,” said Neal flatly.  “Turned up singing your praises, talking about how you’d changed her life.  That you were a good person, that all you wanted was to be a good father.  I should have known it was bullshit.  I should have known you were still a bastard.”

“Got that right,” said Moe, from the floor, and Gold glared at him.

“Shut the fuck up!” he snapped.  “Get the hell out of here and start fucking packing!”

Moe got to his feet, holding his left side a little gingerly, and shot Gold a venomous look before turning his attention to Neal.

“Take my advice and stay away from him,” he said.  “The man’s a bloody beast!”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” growled Gold, and Moe curled his lip, limping out.  The door closed behind him, the cheerful tinkle of the bell very loud in the close, ominous silence that had fallen between him and his son.

“So,” said Neal.  “Using violence to get what you want, huh?  Nice.”

“He broke the heart of someone I love!” hissed Gold.  “He’s been trying to break her spirit for years!  That’s when he wasn’t beating her with anything that came to hand, of course.”

“Oh,” said Neal uncomfortably, running his hand through his hair.  “That was - that was Lacey’s dad?”

Gold nodded.  “Told you about him, did she?”

“Yeah.”  Neal shifted his feet, looking awkward.  “Still, I don’t think…”

“He tried to sell me her virginity when she was barely sixteen,” Gold went on, “and then took it out on her when I turned him down!  He is a sad drunk and a vile, pitiful excuse for a father!”

“So you thought you’d beat him up?” said Neal, in a flat voice.

“He threw a punch at me!”  Gold raised his eyes to the ceiling with a heavy sigh before looking at him.  “Look - forget about the tragedy that is Moe French.  I’m just - I’m thrilled that you came to see me.  Can’t we - can’t we just talk?”

“I don’t know.”  Neal ran a hand through his hair again.  “Maybe this was a mistake.”

He took a step back, heading for the door, and desperation made Gold reach out, try to grab his arm.

“No, please!” he said quickly.  “Please don’t leave!  Give me a chance to make it right!”

“How can you make it right?” demanded Neal, stepping back further.  “You can’t make it right!  You can’t just - just erase what happened!”

“I didn’t mean that.”  Gold settled back on his heels, clutching the handle of his cane.  “I just meant - I just want us to get to know one another again, Bae.”

“It’s Neal!”

The name was delivered with a shout, and a flash of dark eyes.  Gold swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry,” he said.  “Neal.”

There was silence for a moment, and Neal shook his head.

“I wasn’t even gonna come here,” he said.  “I thought - I thought maybe just shutting you out was better.  Cleaner.  But then Lacey turned up and told me some stuff, and I got to thinking that maybe Mom hadn’t been straight with me about you.  That maybe she’d lied.”

“What did she tell you?” asked Gold, anger still making his chest heave.

“That you never wanted me,” said Neal, looking uncomfortable.  “That you left because of it.  Never heard anything from you until that time you turned up when I was sixteen, so I figured it was true.”

Gold blinked.

“But - but I wrote!” he protested.  “I wrote to you every week!  I - I sent presents and money, whatever I could!  Are you telling me you got none of that?”

“Not a damn thing,” he said flatly.  “All I knew was you left.  Of course, later on I found out you were in jail.  Not sure which was crappier, to be honest.”

Gold shook his head, his heart aching.  All these years his son had thought he didn’t care.  He wondered what other lies Milah had told him.  Rage swelled in his chest again, and he tried to calm himself.

“I’m sorry, son,” he whispered.  “I don’t expect you to forgive me for not being there for you, but can we at least try to build something going forward?”

“Maybe,” said Neal, after a pause.  “I don’t know.  I’m not promising anything, okay?  I have Henry to think about now.”

Gold looked up at that.

“Henry?”

“My son.  Mine and Emma’s.”

Gold’s mouth twitched in a smile.

“I have a grandson?”

“Yeah.”

His smile grew, but he sensed that Neal was still cautious, and while he wanted to ask a hundred questions about Henry, he decided that taking things slow was probably wisest.

“Look, why don’t you come to dinner?” he said.  “Nothing fancy, just the three of us.  Lacey’s cooking tonight.”

Neal eyed him warily, but then gave him a cautious nod.

“Okay,” he said.  “We’ll have dinner.”

Neal was silent as they made the brief journey to the house, and Gold tried to think of something to talk about with him.

“How long will you stay?” he asked.

“I’ll go back tomorrow,” said Neal.  “Can’t leave Emma on her own with Henry for too long.”

“Of course.”  Gold turned into his street.  “Do you - do you want to stay with us?”

“I’ll stay at that inn in town,” said Neal.  “Granny’s, or something?”

“Yes.”  Gold hesitated.  “You know, I have plenty of room…”

“One step at a time, okay?”

“Right.”

He pulled onto the driveway, and Neal looked over the house.

“It’s pink,” he said.

“Yes, I’m rather fond of it.”  Gold shot him a brief smile.  “Shall we?  I’m sure Lacey will be pleased to see you.”

“You - uh - you guys live together?” asked Neal.

“Only for the past couple of weeks.”  Gold got out, using the cane to steady himself.  “It’s - it’s going well.  We’re getting along very nicely.”

“Well, she seems like a good person,” said Neal, and Gold smiled.

“She is,” he said.  “I’m very lucky.”

A savoury smell wafted out to greet them as Gold opened the front door to let them into the house.

“Oh good, you’re back!”  Lacey came through, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.  “I was just about to—”

She cut off as she spied Neal, her mouth falling open a little before she snapped it shut.

“As you can see, my son has paid us a visit,” said Gold.  “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Lacey shifted uneasily.

“I - may have made a note of his address and kind of visited him when I went to New York,” she admitted.

“And you were planning on telling me this when, exactly?” he asked, in a very dry voice.  Lacey bit her lip.

“I didn’t think he’d come,” she said.  “Didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

Gold met her eyes, and a faint blush rose in her cheeks.

“We’ll discuss this later,” he said evenly.

“Sounds promising.”

She wound her arms around his neck, smirking, and Gold rolled his eyes.

“Hey Lacey,” said Neal, and she turned to him with a grin.

“Hey Neal.  Good to see you again.  Are you staying for dinner?”

“If that’s okay?”

“Of course!”  She beamed at him, and turned back to Gold, her eyes gleaming.  “I made chicken casserole and didn’t burn it!”

“That’s - excellent news,” he said, with a tiny grin.  “Why don’t I get us all a drink before we taste this magnificent creation?”

She kissed him before spinning away, and he watched her with that grin still on his face as she bounced off to the kitchen.  When he looked around he saw that Neal was eyeing him curiously.  He wondered what was going through his son's mind.

"Right," he said, shrugging off his coat.  "A drink.  I suspect that Lacey and I will be having wine.  What would you prefer?"

"I'll have some wine, I guess," said Neal, taking off his own coat.  He had begun looking around at the pictures and trinkets in the hall, and Gold gestured towards the lounge.

"Have a seat," he said.  "Oh, you might want to check for kittens first.  They've taken to hiding under the cushions.  I sat on Severus last week, and he wasn't too pleased."

"You have - kittens?"

Neal was looking at him as though he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing, and Gold wondered what the hell Milah had told him about his father's personality.  Blatant lies, by the looks of things.  He decided not to ask about it at this first, fragile meeting.

"We have three," he said.  "Let me introduce you to the family."

Neal ran a hand through his hair, but nodded, and Gold led him through to the lounge.  His son was right.  One step at a time.