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sablelab · 4 years

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Covert Operations - Chapter 111

SYNOPSIS: As Sun Yee Lok waits for his daughter’s arrival, he contemplates the outcomes of his interviews with Jonathon Randall and Wang Yu. Meanwhile Murtagh is distressed at Claire’s condition but she is only worried about Jamie.

Chapter 110 and all other chapters can be found at … https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

THANK YOU all for reading my story and I hope that it provides some enjoyment during this time. Stay safe everyone.

CHAPTER 111

Sun Yee Lok sat back in his chair waiting for his daughter Karen to come and speak to him. As he waited for her arrival, he contemplated the outcomes of his interviews with Jonathon Randall and Wang Yu. Their responses had been most enlightening. The triad leader was certainly not disappointed with the information about what had happened at the monastery when he’d interviewed the two men earlier this morning. His daughter Karen was yet to have her conference and her meeting had been scheduled for late this afternoon. Looking at the clock on the wall he noted that she wasn’t due for another hour. Sun Yee Lok needed some fresh air after spending the last couple of hours in interviews with the two men. The triad leader got to his feet and walked to the open French doors that lead onto the large tiled terrace. Negotiating the steps that led from his office he walked out onto the terrace and felt the warmth of the late afternoon sun on his face. With much on his mind to think about, he exhaled a sigh, then stared out at the dense woodlands that lay beyond the property line. Both men had praised Karen’s part in events at the monastery stating that his only daughter had performed with level headedness and composure even in the face of adversity. She’d taken risks and taken control of the situation at the monastery. Her leadership capabilities had been sorely tested but Karen had come through with flying colours. It was she who had been the instigator to trapping Jamie and Claire when they tried to escape, although it was Jonathon who had been the one responsible for interrogating, torturing and killing the prisoners. As a consequence of her leadership, Karen had been responsible for turning the triad’s fortune around. The Rising Dragons' mantra had finally been fulfilled and because of her, the triad had sought its retribution at long last. Their enemy had been eliminated, the unsolved mysteries with their hierarchy had been resolved and now the Rising Dragons would once again reform and regroup better than ever before. They could only go from strength to strength. Wang had confirmed that his daughter had the situation at the monastery well in hand, was steadfast and unflinching in her decisions and had shown little emotion in the face of her own grief when Andy Ma was killed. Making his way back to his office Sun Yee Lok poured himself a drink from the crystal decanter then relaxed back into the comfort of his chair. His thoughts once again turned to the time Jonathon Randall and Wang Yu had spent with him one on one. He couldn’t help but mull over in his mind what had transpired with the two men at the monastery with Karen. Their responses had been most informative and he was extremely satisfied with the triad members’ reports. They had delivered excellent news. More than that though, he was pleased ... very pleased with the results they’d achieved for the good of the Rising Dragons. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Jonathon Randall had carried out his leader’s orders with diligence and achieved the result that the triad needed and wanted. Sun Yee Lok had nothing but praise for the way he had handled the torture of the two captives, James Fraser and Claire Beauchamp. Vengeance really was sweet but nothing was as sweet as the death of the two people who had caused his triad such grief. By all reports the two adversaries had put up an impressive fight and were defiant to the very end. The qualities Fraser and Claire Beauchamp had exhibited had shown they truly were worthy opponents. Nevertheless, the two were doomed from the beginning. No one was capable of bettering the might of the Rising Dragons … many had tried but failed in the past and had only met their demise at the hand of the triad’s enforcer Tony Wong. If this had been a test of Jonathon’s suitability for advancement, he would have passed with flying colours. At long last Sun Yee Lok knew he may have found a good man in Jonathon Randall to fill the place of his deceased extortionist. On a personal level, Jonathon had also managed to have retribution for the atrocities at his nightclub. Although the blame for the firebombing had been laid at the feet of the Black Panthers and Red Lanterns’ triads that had managed to infiltrate his birthday festivities that night, many of the actual fatalities had been at the hands of Claire Beauchamp and her consort. Having the two people responsible for the loss of life of his men and triad members eliminated had seen his honour avenged. Furthermore, Jonathon’s cover as a legitimate businessman in Hong Kong was still intact which bode well for the plans Sun Yee Lok had in mind for him. Jonathon Randall had spoken to his leader of his planned vacation time in Macau. This could prove beneficial. Once he was rested the triad leader saw a perfect opening for Jonathon in his master plans for the triad. Although he wanted to rebuild his nightclub in Hong Kong, with worthwhile incentives, Sun Yee Lok was sure that Jonathon could be persuaded to expand his business ventures elsewhere … preferably where the triad leader saw the greater benefits to the Rising Dragons. Macau would prove to be more lucrative and could be a far better proposition than reconstruction on the mainland especially if his plans for Karen were taken into consideration. Jonathon could be instrumental in what he had in mind. Not only that, but as an extra inducement, his reward for a job well done would be an honourable position within the triad befitting his expertise and worth. Having sown the seed of interest, Sun Yee Lok had achieved the result he’d wanted by putting this proposition to him. On the other hand, Jonathon had been most enthusiastic to hear what his leader had in mind. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Sun Yee Lok’s interview with Wang Yu had been on a completely different level. The triad leader was more interested in hearing his comments about his daughter Karen. As a result of what he’d said, the triad leader had taken pride in what Wang had said about her. Like Jonathon Randall, he had also been most insightful about his observations of Karen’s performance at the monastery. He’d followed his orders explicitly and although his brief had been to watch over and protect Karen, this apparently had not been necessary. She had proven to be more than capable of looking after herself. He’d also sought Wang’s opinion in matters that had perplexed him about what had taken place at the monastery. Sun Yee Lok had sought the counsel of his wise perception and his faith in his old friend was rewarded. Wang Yu had been able to shed some light on the question that had puzzled his leader for some considerable time. How had these two people … James Fraser and Claire Beauchamp … been able to inflict so much grief on the Rising Dragons and its members? Unexplained and suspicious deaths had resulted in turmoil within its organisation and hostilities with other triad groups had impacted on the authority and influence of the triad. However, knowing where the two protagonists had come from explained a lot. The triad leader was now wiser. Section One and its two operatives had been responsible for nearly bringing the Rising Dragons to its knees, but since their elimination this threat had come to an end. Finally, the triad could regroup and return to the stability they had enjoyed before. The triad had taken revenge and triumphed over its adversaries. It was stronger and wiser because of it; hence Sun Yee Lok saw no problems in payback from Section One in the future. It would take some time for Section to regroup with people of the same calibre as Jamie and Claire … and even if it did, then he was confident that the triad would be more resilient to withstand any assault. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Thus, with matters brought to closure with the two triad men, Sun Yee Lok’s mind became consumed with thoughts of his daughter Ka-lin. It was a heavy weight that the triad leader intended to lay on her shoulders, but given what he had learnt about her efforts at the monastery thus far from the two men, he was definitely swayed that his decision was the right one. Wang Yu’s and Jonathon’s words of praise about Karen’s capabilities under pressure were most pleasing. Their summations only further cemented in his thoughts that Karen would be pivotal to what he had in mind. As the Rising Dragon’s leader, but also as her father, he had specific plans for her future and that of the triad. Karen undeniably possessed the intellect required to continue his life's work and the triad’s expansion clearly lay in her capable hands. This was her heritage … the future for which she was destined. Karen was young, but he couldn't deny that she showed strength of character … perhaps too much at times. However, although Sun Yee Lok had all but made up his mind, he would still need to asses Karen’s merits for his plans when he spoke to her. Looking at the clock in the room, he realised that it was nearing the time for his interview with her and he was fully prepared for what he would say to Karen.

A change was definitely coming for the Rising Dragons.

Meanwhile back at Medical …

Returning to stand at Claire’s bedside, Murtagh swallowed a lump in his throat at the sight of his Sugar. Evidence of Claire’s torture was clearly prominent as she lay beneath the glare of the stark fluorescent lights that Bóinne had switched on. His eyes travelled over her then up to the IV-line shooting fluid into her body to aid her recovery. Everything that could have been done had been done. The two friends stood in silence for a few moments. Fergus was lost for things to say and just stood by Claire’s bedside in quiet support. He cast a quick glance over to Murtagh for inspiration, but he merely shrugged his shoulders also not knowing what to do. In mutual agreement they came to the same conclusion … sometimes silence was the best option. Claire was in good care, nevertheless his voice still caught when he finally spoke to his buddy. Sounding like a concerned father he asked, “Any change?” Fergus looked at him; he could see the worry in Murtagh’s face. “No … She’s been asleep ever since I came in. I didn’t have the heart to wake her.” Leaning down Murtagh smoothed the hair back from Claire's forehead and softly whispered her name. “Claire.” He took hold of her hand and gently cradled it within his old wizened one. His thumb absentmindedly glided back and forth over her skin; his eyes were focused on her alone. She didn’t respond, so he said her name once more.

“Claire?” Suddenly she stirred and slowly opened her unwilling eyes. Awakening from her slumber she felt woozy from the effects of the drugs she’d been given. A little confused, her surroundings blurred before her eyes. Not realising just where she was, she tilted her head back on the pillow. Then slowly looking up, she found a face gazing down at her with fatherly concern. When Claire saw who was standing next to her bed, she focused her eyes on her friend.

“Hey!” Her breathy response was followed by a tentative smile. Murtagh smiled in return, the corners of his eyes creasing in pleasure at seeing her awake. “It's alright, Sugar. Try not to move.” Fergus spoke to her as well. “It's nice to have you back. How are you feeling?” Claire moved restlessly on the bed. She turned her head in the direction of his voice, looked at Fergus then turned her head away again. Suddenly a bolt of pain shot through her body. She sucked her breath in with an audible hiss and shut her eyes tightly. An unexpected rush of thoughts of what had happened to her and Jamie at the monastery with Jonathon Randall entered her mind. Tears suddenly beaded on her cheeks and rolled down her face. Seeing her reaction to Fergus’s innocuous question Murtagh chipped in with his own request for information. “Are you okay, Sugar?” Claire nodded her head in silent reply. Noticing her tears he gently brushed them away. “It's okay...the pain and memories will be gone soon.” He fluffed her pillows to make her more comfortable so as for her not to see the concern in his eyes. Claire was thankful for her friend’s kindness and the few seconds to compose herself. “Oh, I’ll live,” she finally replied adjusting her position and gingerly sitting up a little more in the bed. She gave them both a little smile. “Jonathon Randall didn’t get a chance to do any real damage.” Unaware of Claire’s distress, Fergus standing on the other side of the bed stated candidly, “I don’t know about that. You were in a pretty bad way.” Section’s training had taught Claire to suppress her discomfort and pain. Drawing on that training she didn’t want to alarm the young man. Lightly running her fingers over her split lip, she turned to look at him and responded dismissively. “I’ve been in worse situations.” “Yeah? ... Name one!” Murtagh blurted out. “I’m fine Murtagh ... I’ll heal.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Although Claire’s two best friends stood by her bedside, she may as well have been alone. Thoughts of Jamie filled her mind as she wondered about his wellbeing. Even though Murtagh and Fergus hadn’t said anything to the contrary, she didn’t even know if he was alive or dead. Surely, they would have said something to her if he was dead … but then again, they might think it too distressing to tell her straight away.

All of a sudden Claire shook her head as new tears unexpectedly crept down her cheeks. Less concerned with her own condition she looked up at Murtagh. He watched as his Sugar bit down on her bruised bottom lip. Her eyes held his in anticipation. He could see that she was struggling not to say Jamie’s name while at the same time desperate to ask the questions that were on the tip of her tongue. How’s Jamie? Did he pull through? Is he alive? Suddenly she grabbed Murtagh’s hand; she squeezed it tightly as her eyes searched his intently looking him square in the eye. She laid her heart on her sleeve. With her voice raspy and soft, Claire asked the probing question she ached to know the answer for.

“Have you seen Jamie yet?” Seeing the concern and vulnerability etched on Claire’s face he smiled at her in an effort to try and assuage her concerns. “No not yet ... but I’m sure he’s doing fine.” “Are you sure?” she appealed hoping that he would give her the answer she longed to hear. “He didn’t seem to be okay when we were rushed to Medical? You wouldn’t lie to me Murtagh ... would you?” Murtagh tried to hide the unease he had for Jamie’s safety from her.

He wanted to protect Claire for she had her own recovery to worry about. There was no need to make her distressed about Jamie unless it was unavoidable. He couldn’t tell her that there may be a problem with his blood supply and that Dr Foster had confided this in him last night. It would only worry her more if she knew. He would only tell her if and when he needed to, but at the moment until he saw Jamie for himself there was nothing more he could say. “Trust me Sugar ... I’m sure Jamie is going to be okay.” Claire nodded at his answer then raised her eyes once more. “When can I see him? I want ...” she hesitated catching her breath. Soulful eyes implored his in entreaty. “… I need to see for myself that he’s okay.” “You’re not strong enough yet, but as soon as you’re given the all clear, I’m sure they’ll let you see each other ... but I’ll see what I can do to speed things up.” Her eyes locked on his as she spoke. “I need to know how he is. Could you check for me please?” “Sure. I can do that. No problem.” Claire closed her eyes and sank back into the pillows. “Thanks, Murtagh.” Fergus and Murtagh shared a look. The one thing they wanted above all else was that Claire would pull through and be okay. They still had the added problem of Jamie’s health too but until they saw Dr Foster they would have to sit tight. He concluded that Fergus wouldn’t be here unless he had made some headway into solving the mystery of Jamie’s blood type. He obviously had things well in hand ready to activate his plan if needed. They would bide their time then seize the moment. Even if the Intel wasn’t required, they might still access Jamie’s file just to protect him if such an occasion ever arose again. That would also appease Murtagh’s stickybeak curiosity at the same time. As they were talking, Bóinne returned to the room to check that Murtagh and Fergus were not overstaying their time. “Sorry boys but I think you should leave now. Dr Foster will be making his rounds again soon and Madeline is expected before too long. You don’t want to be here when she arrives.” Murtagh motioned to Fergus that they needed to leave Claire to convalesce. Taking the hint to leave Fergus said his goodbyes. “Take care Claire.” He then left his friend alone with her. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Fergus headed towards the exit where the female medic stopped him as he was leaving. Although he’d been at Claire’s bedside when she’d gone on duty she hadn’t really spoken to Fergus. Consequently, she thought it appropriate to formally introduce herself to Murtagh’s best friend.

“Ah, you must be Fergus Claudel. Murtagh’s told me all about you. ” They shook hands. “Really? Everyone calls me Fergus.” “I’m Bóinne, Bóinne Rivière.” “Nice to meet you.” She smiled at him. “I haven’t made it to Comm. yet, but I hope when I do, you have some time to show me around.” “Sure ... anytime.” Fergus replied suddenly enamoured with the woman whose kind eyes grinned at him. “As you must know we’ve been kinda busy here in Medical ….” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ While Bóinne and Fergus were talking Murtagh stood at Claire’s bedside by himself. He smiled benevolently down at her, his eyes radiating with concern and love for his special friend. “Now try and get some rest and see if you can get back to sleep, okay? Leave the worrying to me, hmm?” Gently he patted her hand in compassion. “We’ll come back again soon,” was his promised reply. “Okay.” Claire shifted on the bed and buried her face in the pillow trying to get comfortable ... but sleep was the furthest thing from her mind. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Her softly spoken reply echoed in Murtagh’s head as he made his way over to the medical station where the nurse was quietly talking to Fergus. “Hey Bóinne.” “Murtagh.” She smiled evocatively at him then turned to face Fergus. Despite some palatable sexual tension between them, he’d held her gaze to the very last second. When she looked away a guttural sound nearly echoed in his throat. However, suppressing it, he composed himself and looked at his friend too. Unbeknownst to him, when he turned around Murtagh had a silly expression on his face. “So you’ve met Fergus?” “Yeah … we are just getting properly acquainted.” The young techie glanced from one to the other realising that there was an obvious connection between the two. Was Murtagh flirting with her? Fergus suddenly felt like the third wheel. “Well ... I better get back to Systems. I’ll see you both later.” “Sure.” He turned to the medical nurse, “Nice meeting you Bóinne. Take good care of Claire.” “Yes ... I will ... Bye,” she replied acknowledging his retreating statements. Once he’d turned away, the flirting between his buddy and Bóinne continued as Fergus walked towards the way out. He was nearly at the exit when Murtagh called out after him. “Hey wait up a minute Fergus!” Facing the cute medic, he gave Bóinne one last cheeky grin before hurrying to catch up with his friend. With one last look back at the patient, the two friends then quietly slipped out of the room leaving Claire to rest. They both knew that she would need all her strength for when Madeline paid her a visit. Plans to check on Jamie however, needed to be put on hold until after Madeline had left Medical. In the meantime, Murtagh wanted to see if Fergus had come up with any Intel concerning Jamie’s medical records and while Madeline was occupied with Dr Foster may be the perfect time for them to go searching.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued on Friday 3rd April

#Jamieandclairefanfic #jamieandclaireau #jamieandclairecrossover #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #covert operations #the lallybroch library #LFNoutlander

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set-phasers-to-whump · 4 years

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what are friends for?

this is for @not-just-fantasy who requested some marius getting beat up!!! i had a lot of fun writing this, especially developing the oc, which i’ve never really done before!! hope this is alright! (also sorry the con is like. barely described lol. its surprisingly hard to come up with a believable one)

It was a relatively simple con, as far as cons went. It involved posing as an accountant, and would result in a modest payoff, one which, hopefully, would fly under the radar until long after Marius had dropped off the grid. Well, Marius and his assistant.

He didn’t usually like to do serious jobs with people he didn’t know well, but he’d been training this person, whose name was Alia (though Marius’ ‘client’ knew them as Danny). Alia was a quick thinker, and a good deal taller and more muscular than Marius, which helped play them off as a bodyguard for a rather anxious accountant, who overvalued his safety (as well as his own importance).

And so far, things were going great. Alia and Marius were staying in a cheap hotel in Hartford, meeting daily with their client, William Henderson, a CEO who had recently become concerned about the security of his accounts. It had been three days, and in another two, the job would be finished, and the pair would walk away a couple thousand dollars richer. That was the nice thing about the rich, Marius thought. You could take enough money from them to comfortably sustain yourself, and they wouldn’t feel the difference.

Of course, they might notice the difference, and get angry about it anyway. So this operation had been a little more slow-going than one unfamiliar with the business might have expected, but overall it was progressing at exactly the pace that Marius knew it would.

Marius himself, currently in character as Oliver Pierce, accountant and possibly the most boring man on the planet, was in a meeting with his client. He had elected to have Alia stay in the car, as today’s business was to be the most delicate work, which could easily end the whole con if it was not handled correctly.

Alia had agreed to this, having never been in on any real sort of con before, and they were busying themself by sketching the alley the car was parked in on the back of a map they’d found in the glove compartment. Sure, it was boring being left in the car, but they were beginning to understand just how fiddly the con business could be, and were quite frankly relieved to have been excused from what was sure to be a high-pressure situation.

Back in the office, the situation was certainly high-pressure. But not in the way that Alia would have thought.

Marius was trapped. Literally and figuratively. The door was locked, his arm was pinned to the desk, and he’d been completely discovered-Henderson knew exactly what con he was trying to pull, he knew where Marius had been staying, he knew Alia was a con artist in training…the list went on. Marius was in deep shit, and for once, could think of nothing to say to keep the con going.

Henderson knew this, and was delighting in it. “You really thought you could pull one over on me? I thought something was up with you the minute I met you, and look at you now, proving me right with no help! You think you can install your creepy little...scanning device on my computer? You think you can mess with my computer without my knowledge? You think you’re smarter than me?”

“It’s not a scanning device,” Marius muttered under his breath, before he could think the better of it.

“What did you say?” Henderson demanded, twisting Marius’ arm.

“Nothing, nothing,” Marius said quickly. “Let’s just...let’s talk, right?”

But Henderson, apparently, had had enough. He slapped Marius across the face. “How about you shut the fuck up?”

Marius blinked. Fuck. He could get out of this...somehow.

“I can see those little wheels turning in your pathetic brain, Oliver,” Henderson sneered, his voice full of contempt. “You get out of this one when I say you get out.”

Marius didn’t want to think about what that could mean.

---

Alia, still sitting in the car, had finished sketching the alley, and had moved on to sketching the interior of the car. It was a very boring subject, as there was virtually nothing in the car to personalize it, but it was better than nothing. They wondered how Marius was getting on...he should be out soon, if everything was going to plan.

---

But of course, everything wasn’t going to plan. Henderson, after delivering his ominous statement, had said absolutely nothing as he slowly let go of Marius’ arm which had been pinned to the desk.

Marius, naturally, sprinted for the door, though he knew it was locked. He glanced around for anything that he could use as a weapon-he had the distinct feeling that he was about to get seriously beaten up, and Henderson already had several inches and a considerable amount of weight to his advantage.

But there was nothing. Henderson advanced on Marius, a truly dangerous smile on his face. Marius had backed himself up against the door, and looked frantically around, for what, he didn’t know-but it didn’t matter, anyway. The second Henderson’s fist collided with the side of his face, nothing mattered except survival.

Henderson hit hard, and accurately, the kind of punches which told Marius he’d been trained, probably in boxing, which was not an especially helpful fact.

An uppercut to the jaw sent him crumpling to the ground, his ears ringing. He tried in vain to stand up, to attempt to hold his own somehow, but Henderson kicked his legs out from under him.

He fell back to the floor, the back of his head connecting with a bookshelf with an audible crack. Stars swum in his field of vision, and he probably would have blacked out, had it not been for the sharp kick which was delivered to his stomach, which diverted his attention from the pain in his head and caused him to hunch over in an instinctive and futile attempt to protect himself.

Henderson grabbed Marius by the back of his suit jacket, hauling him to his feet, and pinned him to the bookcase with an arm against his throat. He punched Marius squarely in the nose, and it made a sickening crunching noise, and then Marius became dimly aware of the sensation of hot blood pouring down his face, making it hard to breathe, and his mouth was full of blood, and all he could register was pain, and he could barely breathe, and his head was spinning, and he was sure he was going to die…

And then the arm at his throat let up, and he slumped bonelessly to the ground. Falling hurt, but it hurt far less than everything else did, and he didn’t make a sound.

Henderson was saying something to him, something which he couldn’t hear over the ringing in his ears. A smack to the face cleared that up well enough, though, and he could hear Henderson’s taunting voice asking if he’d had enough, if he’d learned his lesson.

Marius nodded, or did his best impression of it, anyway, which was perhaps not the best idea, as his dizziness increased tenfold. He stayed slumped on the ground for several minutes, doing his best to stop the world around him from spinning, and to gain enough control over his limbs to stand.

Henderson, however, had apparently grown bored of this whole exchange, and pulled Marius to his feet once again, holding him upright until he got his bearings. “Be thankful I really needed to punch my anger out, or you’d be on your way to prison right now,” Henderson hissed, as he moved to unlock the door. “Now get the fuck out of here before you bleed any more on my carpet.”

Marius did not need to be told twice, and he stumbled his way out of the office, a shaking hand attempting to stop the blood that still flowed down his face. God, he was still so dizzy…

Somehow, he made it back to the alley without collapsing. He stood a few feet away from the car, suddenly realizing that he really couldn’t make it another few feet.

---

Alia jerked out of a light doze to the sound of approaching footsteps, which abruptly stopped. Curious, they looked in the rearview mirror...and nearly screamed at the sight which greeted them. Marius, conman extraordinaire, was beat to shit. His clothes were rumpled and torn in places, and splattered with blood. One arm curled protectively around his torso. The other was attempting to stop a profusely-bleeding nose, which dripped blood down his already-bruising face.

They jumped out of the car, hurrying to Marius’ side. Just in time, too, for they had no sooner laid a hand on Marius’ shoulder to ask what the hell had happened than he was collapsing onto them, unconscious.

Alia, fortunately, had quick reflexes, and managed to catch Marius before he hit the ground. They picked him up as carefully as they could (he was so light), and set him down in the passenger seat, upright, so that his nosebleed wouldn’t choke him to death, then backed up out of the alley.

Alia was panicking, just a little. Their first con was not supposed to have gone like this. What were they supposed to do? They doubted that conmen went to the hospital, but they had serious doubts about their ability as a makeshift nurse. “Marius? Please, wake up, I don’t know what to do.”

He stirred slightly. “Hm?”

“What am I supposed to do?” they repeated, panic edging into their voice.

“No...nothing...go...hotel...con-” he paused, coughing harshly and wincing at the pain that that brought to...well, everything. “The con...it’s over...he found out…”

“Shit,” Alia said, having suspected as much but having hoped for some other outcome. “You really just want me to drive back to the hotel?”

“Yes. I’ll...I’ll be fine,” Marius insisted, and closed his eyes once more, blood still steadily dripping down his face.

Alia doubted this, but Marius was their...boss, or something like that, in all of this, so they listened, and drove as quickly as they could back to the hotel.

Once they arrived, the pair faced the task of making it back to the room unseen, which turned out to be fairly easy, as there was almost no one in the lobby to witness the spectacle of Marius, who had woken up enough to insist he could walk, being heavily supported by Alia, whose clothes were now smeared with blood and who was doing their best to remain inconspicuous. The one man who noticed them seemed content to pretend like he’d seen nothing at all, and went back to reading his magazine after sparing them little more than a once-over. The perks of cheap hotels, Alia thought to themself, as they waited for the elevator.

By the time the creaky elevator had reached the third floor, Marius had once again collapsed, and Alia had once again picked him up, flinging him carefully over their shoulder as they made their way down the hallway (which, fortunately, had a dark carpet that would hide the blood which dripped onto it). Finally, the pair made it back to their room, where Alia set Marius down on the edge of the tub and thought about how the hell they were going to do this.

Marius, fortunately, chose that moment to wake up, and muttered something about there being a first-aid kit in his suitcase.

It was there, and it was pretty well-stocked, too. Alia brought it into the bathroom, gathered all of the washcloths they could find, and got to work.

Fortunately, Marius’ nose had finally stopped bleeding, which was one less thing to worry about. He stared ahead at nothing, blinking sluggishly, as Alia gently wiped the blood off of his face. They had the feeling that this was normally something Marius would have loathed to have anyone do to him, for him, and they wondered briefly just how bad he must have felt in order to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being cared for.

Apart from the blood, Alia quickly realized that there wasn’t a whole lot else they could do for Marius. They removed his suit jacket and button-up shirt, both of which were fairly unsalvageable, and examined his torso, which was already horribly bruised. There wasn’t much they could do about the injury that would make it feel any better, apart from some ibuprofen (and even that might not do much, they really didn’t know), but they wrapped the bruise in some bandages anyway, to at least do something.

That done, Alia was well and truly out of things to do to help. They handed Marius two packets of ibuprofen, which he took quickly, and then stood up, fidgeting with a slightly bloody washcloth as they wondered what they were supposed to do next.

Marius interrupted their thinking. “You can...you can go, it’s over...won’t get any money…”

Alia looked at him, slightly bewildered. “You mean leave, right now? While you’re beat all to hell and might have a concussion or something?”

“You’re not listening, Alia, you won’t get anything, it’s finished.”

“I know I’m not getting anything,” they said, “but you’re...my friend, or something. I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“Oh,” Marius said, evidently startled by their reply. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.

“No, you don’t,” Alia said, pulling Marius to his feet as gently as they could. “You have a perfectly good bed to sleep on.”

Marius made his way to his bed, painfully slowly, but mostly on his own. As soon as his head hit the pillow, his eyes fluttered closed, and Alia heard his breathing even out. Good, they thought, and then shit, there’s blood all over the bathroom that I’m gonna have to clean up.

---

Marius awoke with a pounding headache and a dull throbbing in his torso. He blinked his eyes open slowly, pushing himself into a sitting position and wincing as the movement made the throbbing in his torso spike into something more painful. He looked around. He was back in the hotel room...how had he gotten there? He mentally reviewed what had happened the past day: he’d woken up, had some breakfast, gone to the meeting with Henderson...after that, his memories became a jumbled blur of pain. Alia had been with him, he thought. No doubt they were long gone by now, now that their payoff had been ruined.

The lock on the door clicked, and Marius started. Before he could do something to fend off whatever intruder this was, the door opened, and Alia, their hands full with plates of hotel breakfast, stepped into the room, smiling at Marius when they saw that he was awake.

“Morning,” they said, handing him a plate. “How’s...everything?”

Marius looked at them, slightly shocked.

“What’s wrong?” Alia asked, already beginning to worry. “Oh, I knew I should have just gone to the hospital…”

“No!” Marius interrupted. “No...I’m fine, I’m just...why are you here?”

Alia looked at him, clearly confused. “What do you mean?”

“There isn’t any chance of a payoff anymore.”

Alia sighed, and said, “I know that,” in the exasperated tone of one who has already had this conversation before. “I don’t care.”

“Why?”

Alia shrugged, and sat down next to Marius on the bed. “I dunno. I like you? We’re friends, or something? I mean, I think two people can call themselves friends after one of them has collapsed on the other one multiple times.”

Had he done that? He supposed there was time to think about that later. “Yeah,” he agreed slowly. “I guess we’re friends.”

He was silent for a moment. Alia ate their breakfast. “Thanks,” he said finally.

“What are friends for?”

aaaaaaaaaAAAAAA i hope this was okay!!!! I had so so much fun writing it!! I tried to make it open to the possibility of anything happening after this, like romance etc, but i thought friends was a good endpoint for these two!! hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!!!!!

#my writing #i say things #sneaky pete #marius josipovic #beat up #collapse #bloody nose #blood #also fun fact when i started writing this i had no idea if alia was even a real name i just liked the sound lol #i hope u liked them!! i rlly loved writing them and developing their character #honestly before this i didnt really get the appeal of oc's but like...theyre so fun #i Get It now!!#also i am either trash at titles or somewhat okay and unfortunately lately its been the former #the other day i titled a fic as 'okay' not even realizing i had another titled 'be okay' im a mess lol #anyway yeah hope u liked!!!!!

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danetobelieve · 4 years

Text

The Birds || Evelyn and Winston

It had been a weird week. A few nights before Winston had been returning from a party and had been attacked by what they could only assume was some kind of dog. It had been big, maybe bigger then any dog Winston had seen before. But they had decided that was just their memory exaggerating things. Just like the flames they could vividly remember scorching the pavement. The burn marks on the pavement were hard to explain. It was possible they were tire burns that had faded over a number of years. Either way, in an effort to prove that everything wasn’t what it seemed. Winston had finally decided to conduct an experiment. The other night they had managed to do something. They didn’t know what. But it might have saved their life from that dog. So now they were going to attempt to repeat it, but they had to make sure that they were away from prying eyes. So they’d set off across the town and found a secluded spot. A field with a good view of the ocean, but with forests preventing anyone from watching. At least that was the plan. They had just set everything up the hay bale they planned to use as a target. Raising the hand that had erupted with light they aimed it at the hay bale and closed their eyes. Trying to focus on the emotions of the night, they stood their and did their best to concentrate. Moments ticked by, and Winston was beginning to feel their arm shake from the exertion of keeping it held aloft. Opening one eye they could see that nothing had changed and sighed. “Well I knew it,” they said aloud, to no one in particular.

She went for runs with a decent amount of regularity. Evelyn knew that it was important to do often, especially if one wanted it to be actually effective with the long-term results of the exercise. She got the greatest pleasure out of dance, still, but running was sometimes easier. Not only that, but it gave her a periodic chance to survey nearly whatever portion of the town she wished to during the daytime. After all, unless she actively trespassed, who was going to stop her, a pretty blonde woman in nice running clothes, to suspect something was off? Practically nobody, and that worked more than just alright for her. Today, her run had taken her to a slightly more secluded area, but with a beautiful ocean view. Normally in an area like this, there would not be so many people about, but she noticed someone moving about, and stopped suddenly, turning her head to look at them. It wasn’t until they spoke aloud that she made any further movement. “Knew what?” She asked, taking a few steps towards the figure.

To be perfectly honest, Winston had picked this spot for a number of very specific reasons. The most prominent of those was the fact that they were almost entirely isolated out here. They were 90% sure that no one would be out here. It was the middle of the working week, they had a few free hours and it wasn’t as if people just wandered around places like this. They were of course wrong. As they frowned, adjusting their glasses on their face thoughtfully, they found themselves almost jumping out of their skin as a voice retorted back to them. For a moment they hoped that they’d actually done something, but then it occurred to them that perhaps they weren’t alone. Whirling around, they spotted her. Taking a deep breath they swallowed and tried to think of something that they could say that was going to explain away what they were doing. They almost wished they had a gun so they could act like they were about to engage in some good old target practice. But guns had never been Winston’s forte, there was a reason they had ruled out being a police officer. As she approached, they blurted out the first thing they could think of, which wasn’t really anything at all. “What?” they exclaimed, somewhat startled by the words they’d just spat out.

She bit her lip, her eyes growing wider than was strictly necessary, but of use all the same. Evelyn pulled her zip-up closer around her body as she stepped toward the figure. Most people were hesitant, especially in public, right? She supposed that she ought to at least fake it, even if this was simply some unassuming human. “Perhaps I misheard, but I thought you said, ‘I knew it’, and as someone who always wants to know more, I wished to be terribly invasive and inquire.” She dug one the toe of one of her perfectly clean sneakers into the ground. “I can go, if you need me to.” She began to turn away, pulling her hair out of the ponytail, a look of apparent sorrow plain on her face. They would not let her leave, now, she hoped. Not when she was an unassuming woman only out for a daily run, right?

To be perfectly honest, Winston was so taken aback by the entire situation that they weren’t really sure what they were meant to say here. “I may well have … uh …” whoever she was, she was truly very beautiful, but Winston had to force themselves to focus on the task at hand and they refused to be distracted by her long flowing hair, the way her eyes seemed to be at almost anime wideness or, “I was talking to myself about a coding problem I’ve been working on,” they lied very flustered by the situation. Why did she sound like she was from Downton Abbey? Why was it so hot? Swallowing gently, Winston tried not to blush, and hastily pulled off their glasses to polish them and have something to occupy their hands. “It is a free country, you don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to.” They weren’t about to make her leave.

Coding. That involved computers, right? Evelyn turned back around, her lips curving into a smile. They hadn’t let her go away, and that was more than enough of a win for her. She watched them take off their glasses, twirl them around in their hands just so. Nervous habit? she wondered, before giving a small shrug and taking a few steps back, closer to where they were standing. “Must have been quite the problem. Is this place somewhere where you will often go to think through problems?” It was a genuine question, even if part of her wondered if it truly had been a coding problem, or if this was their way of deflecting, moving conversation elsewhere. That was their right, she supposed, and they were talking to her, which was one of the most important things. “I am afraid to admit that all I truly know about coding is that it is what helps make computers run. You must be quite intelligent if you get to work on coding problems.”

As Winston rubbed a finger mark off of the right lense, they couldn’t help but stare through the lense at the hyper focused blades of grass beneath the lense whilst outside of their glasses turned fuzzy. “The piece of coding I’m working on is stuck in a cascading loop and I’m pretty sure it is because the flag names I used are the same, but distinguishing the different flags and changing them to avoid the loop is turning out to be more problematic then I would’ve liked.” Winston explained their lie easily, lying to their parents about ‘computer problems’ was a forte of there’s and the skill had translated over into lived practice well. Then they looked up and remembered who they were talking to and their tongue transmuted back into the lead. “Coding is kind of like anything else,” Winston hoped she hadn’t noticed the deliberately set hay bale target behind them, “if you put in the work and you practice then sooner or later it’ll just click. People just let movies intimidate them. Most coding is based on pre-existing code and just tailoring it to do what you want.”

They started talking more and Evelyn had to knit her eyebrows together in concentration, because even the little bit of a talk of coding was out of her wheelhouse. “Right.” She quipped, voice clear. “That does seem as though it would be rather a bit problematic.” She giggled, the laughter mostly forced though to anybody besides herself it would appear entirely genuine, as though she was merely a bit nervous. “I suppose that is true. After all, though I am no expert and have not practiced in years, I did start from being only okay and became quite brilliant at dance.” Though there is always the familial skill with that, as if I were reliving what my mother would have wanted. She’d always wondered if that was part of why her father never let her consider it seriously. “Do you study coding?” Perhaps that question erred on the side of overly invasive, but she did not think so. It was even less personal than names, “Oh, I am Evelyn, if you wish to make that sort of introduction.” She held out one hand, a half-smirk-half-smile on her face. “Thank you in advance for your kindness in answering my questions.”

Whoever she was, she was completely set on talking to them. Winston couldn’t help but find this a little strange. Usually people kind of ignored them. Not that they hated that. It suited them just fine for the most part. It wasn’t like they were a social outcast or anything. They had friends. They just weren’t the type of person who was outgoing enough to command attention. “It’s not great.” It wouldn’t be if it were a real problem. “But uh, y’know, despite the fact that it is … problematic, I’ll just dry run it or something until I can identify the problematic parts and adjust them.” For someone so shockingly attractive, she was really interested in coding. Maybe she was just curious about the fundamental structures of code? Even to Winston that sounded kind of fake, but they were never good at reading people. “In years?” they asked curious at the implication she had once coded, “Either way, it is never too late to learn if you really wanted, there’s lots of tutorials for various languages online.” Pausing for a moment longer they nodded. “I’m studying cyber forensics and security at a postgraduate level over at UMWC.” Not the most impressive college in the world, but being in White Crest always suited Winston. “Uh, hi Evelyn,” Winston said stumbling over their own words, “I’m Winston Dane.” They slid their glasses onto their face, leaving it somewhat lopsided before tentatively reaching their hand out to shake Evelyn’s. “Most people don’t really care about this sort of stuff.”

“It seems as though you have a good handle on it,” Evelyn began, giving a small shrug. “Is this place a good one for getting your thoughts collected?” She could admire that - she used to enjoy going to various gardens around London as a child, gathering her thoughts from whatever studies she’d done that day. Sometimes her adventures into the gardens, or around London would occur at night, sneaking out right under the noses of all those who were supposed to be guarding her, protecting her. Not a one of them any the wiser. Which was simply fine by her. “Yes, a number of years. Danced when I was tiny, stopped before going to university.” Evelyn shrugged. Perhaps in another life, she would have gone on to do more with dance, but in this life it was not what was meant to happen. “Perhaps I will attempt to learn, though even I can admit that it might not be quite my forte.” She laughed. She doubted that she would ever truly want to learn coding, but it was intriguing to hear about nonetheless. “Wow, that sounds like quite something. Complex, too. You must be quite intelligent.” She pressed one hand against her side, still looking at them. She watched them place their glasses back on their face, hands still shaking a little from nerves. Was it because she’d just shown up out of the blue? Because they weren’t used to talking to people like her? Either way, she was curious. “Oh, Evelyn Hoffman is my full name. Yours is quite lovely.” She took their hand and gave it a shake. “Luckily for you, I am hardly most people.”

“I hope so,” Winston replied dishonestly, because there was absolutely nothing for them to have a good handle on. It felt unrelated but Winston couldn’t help but feel their ears burn gently. “I guess,” Winston said … honestly this time, “I don’t come outside much, but even I sometimes have enough of sitting in front of a computer all day. Sometimes you need a change of scenery and one of the good things about White Crest is that it is in the middle of nowhere and there is so much to see out here. As she explained that she had been dancing, NOT coding for a number of years, Winston couldn’t help but feel a rush of relief that they had been vague in their questioning. She obviously wasn’t talking about coding. “You never know till you try it…” Winston was concerned that may have sounded more like a question then a statement. “Uh, I’m good with computers,” they replied with a shrug, “once it clicks it’s not that hard.” At least they’d never really struggled with it. It seemed almost intuitive to them. “Thanks,” they said, taken aback by the compliment. No one had ever told them that their name was ‘quite lovely’, especially in that accent. Winston pulled at their t shirt collar and smiled. Trying their best to have a good strong grip, Winston shook her hand, though they couldn’t help but feel as if they hadn’t quite made the impression they wanted. “I mean, of course not, you’re just one person, but its an expression, I’m sure you knew that anyway… do you come here often?” they asked, their uncontrolled explosions of words finally abated and with the hope that they'd succeeded in changing the conversation.

Evelyn found this conversation incredibly fascinating. Part of it reminded her of the times, shortly after she’d discovered what she was and how she would sit on a chair in the midst of her father’s parties, just watching everyone. Remembering to blink, sometimes. Taking in just how simply human everyone was. It wasn’t quite the same right now, because she actually had to pay attention to the person in front of her, to their words and remarks. “Change of scenery is good, beneficial too, surely.” Something about fresh air being good and healthy - luckily White Crest had plenty of fresh air, better than London had. “True, you never know, though right now I can assure you I would hardly ever be expert or even borderline decent when it comes to knowledge of in-depth coding. I can change a tire on a car with relative ease, but coding is a whole other wheelhouse, so to speak.” She smiled, “I am glad it clicks for you, somebody deserves to have it be a thing of ease. Oh, and you are most welcome,” another grin appeared on her lips, teeth lightly biting down on her tongue. “Oh, I do know it was an expression, my apologies if my tone did not indicate that. Though I like to think I am properly my own self, even if there were dozens of individuals around us.” She let out a light bit of laughter at their next question, “no, none too often, though I do like to run and sometimes it is lovely to run in less population-dense spaces.” She gave a shrug, some of her hair falling over her shoulders. “I might have to come here more often now, the view is lovely.”

There were times in their life when Winston realised that the world was far more gargantuan and vast then they had ever considered. This was one of those times. Evelyn seemed to be living in a world entirely different to their own. They watched Evelyn closely. It was at times like this that they had often wondered what it would’ve been like to read someone else’s mind and know what their thoughts would be like in that exact moment. People like Evelyn didn’t just make the effort to talk to someone like Winston. “Maybe, it helps me at least and sometimes you just need a break.” Winston wasn’t exactly living their truth right now. Generally if they could help it they did everything that they could to avoid going outside. But they hadn’t wanted Ricky to see them trying to do the whole flashlight hand thing. “If it hasn’t really been a requirement in your life then why would you need it?” they shrugged gently, unsure of why they were working so hard to assist Evelyn, there was just something about her. Maybe it was that smile, or the way she’d just bitten her tongue, Winston had to take a deep breath. “There’s no need to apologise, it was just a bad joke.” They swallowed and were immediately glad that they didn’t actually come out here nearly as often as they had previously told Evelyn they did, after all they wouldn’t want to share this spot with anyone if they actually cared about it. “Yes, White Crest has some truly lovely views. The sea is beautiful.”

“Breaks can be good.” She replied. Obviously, she wanted to add -- not directed at the person in front of her, but at herself. Stating the obvious was not something Evelyn usually did, she liked to be more clever in her remarks, usually. Though apparently there was a first time for everything, this being one of those times. “Fair. Though one might think that it would have been more useful than memorizing Latin and Ancient Greek, but in fairness, and with no offense to your interests, I found languages like those two more fascinating than the idea of computers. I preferred the library to the computers in my house, growing up.” It was true, even when they’d gotten computers and everything, Evelyn had much preferred to spend her time curled up with every book she could get her hands on, even the ones her father deemed too scary. She’d persuaded maids and nannies and even a girlfriend or two of her father’s to reach them for her, a finger pressed against her lips - shhh, it will be our secret. “I simply did not wish for you to think me rude,” she laughed, “but I am grateful to know it was a joke. She followed their gaze to the ocean, “the sea is lovely. I find its mystery quite enthralling, if I might be entirely honest with you.” She looked back over to them. “Are you from here?”

Winston could hear gulls in the background. They had never been a huge fan of the creatures but for some reason they were really making a lot of noise right now. Doing their best to ignore it, they shrugged. “Everyone has to take one eventually right?” They weren’t really sure what else to say. This conversation had gone on for longer then they would’ve thought and Winston wasn’t exactly the type to keep people’s attention for very long. “I guess everyone has different preferences, I don’t know how you would make use of those languages outside of studying the classics, but if it is what you’re interested in then all the power to you right? People should be able to enjoy their interests unashamed of them.” Looking out at the ocean that roiled and shifted before their very eyes, Winston couldn’t help but notice the spiral of seagulls that seemed to be forming before their eyes. There hadn’t been that many of them before. “I doubt anyone could find you rude.” Winston blurted, and even if they did, they doubted that they would complain about it. People didn’t usually have a bad word to say against pretty people. “From White Crest? Yes, born and raised here. I almost moved for college but it didn’t seem like the right move and then I got an internship here and it seemed sensible to stay local.”

She almost stiffened at the sound of the seagulls. She ought to have been used to it by now, but at least the ones on Harris Island just avoided her home for the most part and she did not have to put up with the screeching. Apparently she would not be afforded the same luxury here. Evelyn nodded at their comment. “Everyone should, though not everyone does.” She glanced over at the seagulls, willing them to go away, please. Though most people didn’t identify that as a hallmark of who she was, unless they were in the know and she could only hope that Winston was not in the know. “Yes, I will admit that the languages are functionally useless now, but I enjoy them, and it was a way to exercise my brain when I was a child.” Another small shrug of her shoulders. “Thank you, that is quite kind of you to say.” She pressed her fingers against her temple, the noise a bit too loud - why couldn’t animals just leave her be, usually? Why did they feel it such a need to make just noise? She would never harm one, not intentionally at least. “Especially since we just met, and I have done nothing but invade your personal space and time.” She smiled. “I will have been here four years come April. You must know so much about the town.” The seagulls continued to caw, and she could not help but look back over at them. “Funny bird behaviors today, hm?” She remarked, her lips turning into an expression of confusion. “Staying local seems nice. This town is quite delightful, most of the time.”

The seagulls appeared to be somewhat agitated, but Winston wouldn’t have been able to tell you for the life of them what their problem was. It seemed bizarre that they were getting so worked up. But Winston put them out of mind as they focussed on Evelyn. “I read somewhere once that if you learn Latin the rest of the ‘romance’ languages are easier because they’re all more or less rooted in Latin, so I guess you’ve got that going for you. Do you speak many languages then?” They were honestly a bit shocked that this conversation was going on, most people would’ve moved on by now, but Evelyn seemed intent on talking with them. “Oh, no problem…” Winston blushed gently before looking at their shoes intently for a moment. What was that noise? Was it really those seagulls? Winston hadn’t noticed how deafening it had really become. “I mean, I know some stuff, I don’t know if I would go so far as to say SO much, but yeah, I know my way around.” They had been here a long time now. Looking back to the birds, Winston was about to make a comment about how nice it was to stay local and how they had to apologise for just how rude they were being. But then a seagull decided to dive bomb them, it darted straight into Winston’s temple, violently beating it’s wings against them before soaring off into the sky. “Ow, what the fuck?!”

“Yes, that and certain scientific concepts and names become easier.” Evelyn gave a small shrug. “I speak French fluently, but that is it.” She nearly bristled at the sound of the seagulls. She should have been used to it by now, but it never became any more pleasant. “I bet you know your way around all sorts of places, that is so handy.” She paused, “I have lived here for almost four years but there are some parts of town that still get me all turned around.” Just then, one of the birds came down and flapped against Winston’s face. “Perhaps we should continue our discussion elsewhere,” Evelyn continued, waving her hand up again as another seagull came towards them, cawing for all its might.

As the seagulls whirled around them, Winston did their best to avoid their beating wings and peaking beaks. It wasn’t exactly what they had been looking for today. A beak nipped into their shoulder and drew blood, and winced lurched forward, batting at the swarm of seagulls that had taken odds with them. “I think it might be a good idea if we tried to get away,” Winston agreed, “something seems to have really riled them up. I’ve never seen or heard of anything like this.” Ducking underneath a seagull that was hurtling towards their face, Winston shuffled forwards, birds dive bombing them in all directions. They did their best to beat them off, but there were so many of them coming from so many different ways. “What the hell is this?” they were nervous, this entire town appeared to be doing weird things and they couldn’t guess why.

Her hand clenched into a fist involuntarily, and Evelyn swatted at one of the seagulls. They were not normally this vicious, but seagulls were known for being brazen, she figured, and perhaps that was why they took their dislike of her species a step further than most animals. “Oh, me neither, but perhaps something set them off, some sort of sickness transmitted through fish, because of pollution?” It sounded false as she said it, but with a grin flashed towards Winston, she hoped that her wide eyes and smile would distract them enough or at least just assume that she was less intelligent than she was. Which normally was something she loathed, but if it got them out of this situation she would take it.

Honestly, Winston wasn’t even paying attention to a single thing that Evelyn had said. They were more worried about these animals. They’d never really been a huge fan of the outdoors in the first place, they were always more comfortable in front of some version of a computer screen. Or at least sat around a table playing a board game or Dungeons & Dragons. They could feel panic rising in their stomach, their heart was racing and they felt their ears burn red hot. Reaching out to cover their body from the seagulls. They waited for the next impact, and were shocked when they heard a gentle thud. Looking around, they saw a number of other seagulls briefly thud into the side of a shimmering bubble. Apparently too irritated that they couldn’t reach their prey, the animals began to disperse and not long after the bubble dissolved. Winston had never seen anything like it. They could feel sweat beading their brow and trickling down their neck. They were suddenly exhausted. Which was weird. “Did … did you see that?” Winston had seen too much weird shit in the last few days to really question this, “I’m not crazy right?”

All of a sudden, the bothersome gulls crashed into some sort of, bubble, was it? and fell down, while others flew off. Evelyn pursed her lips together, looking back over toward Winston. Almost as if to ask if they had any idea about what had just happened, but instead they looked almost more nervous than before. Humans really did get their nerves all tangled up so very easily, didn’t they? “Oh I absolutely saw that,” she nodded, still taking a few steps away, “though I cannot say I have a singular clue as to what that was.” She was supposed to be nervous too, right. “However, I am not certain if I want to stay around too much, lest the gulls return.” She glanced over to them, wondering if they would feel the same way - wondering where exactly the bubble had come from.

Winston gazed wide eyed around them. The gulls dispersed and they were once again left alone, maybe a little more battered and bruised then they had been moments ago. “That’s so weird…” Winston had seen enough weird stuff recently and they weren’t sure that they were ready to accept this. But it couldn’t be a coincidence. Not with everything else that had happened to them recently. They weren’t sure what the hell was going on right now but they knew that they didn’t want to stay here any longer. “I don’t think…” they were truly speechless. Shaking their head gently, they shook themselves into life and headed back the way that they had come. “I think getting out of here is probably for the best.”

#p: evelyn #para #wickedswriting #the birds

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peace-coast-island · 4 years

Text

Diary of a Junebug

Game night at an arcade hotel!

Tonight we’re pulling an all-nighter - an all (game) nighter!

That’s right, we’re spending the night at the Re-Play Arcade! I made reservations for the hotel months in advance since we’re a big group and it gets booked quickly. It’s been years since I’ve been at Re-Play and it’s just as fun as I remembered!

Along with the campers, Fran and Mike are tagging along! Pearl and Marianne were going to come along too but life has been a bit hectic for them so it’s just the guys. I’ve never really hung with them without the girls so it’s gonna be fun.

Also they’ll be filming the whole thing for their vlog Me, Thee, and a Vlog. I imagine the title would be something like “Spending a night at an arcade hotel?!”

It’s hard to believe that Mike has been keeping up a vlog for almost three years now. A lot has changed for him and Fran since they left Chester Faversham. And things are about to change even more in the summer when they finally tie the knot!

Before moving across the country with a clean slate, Mike and Fran were detectives. They’ve been partners since day one and rarely left each other’s sides since. They’re the kind of people you look at and immediately can tell that they’re soulmates.

You can make a lot of good friends but very rarely you find someone who you can connect with on a deep level.

Being a detective is nothing like you see on TV. Although Mike and Fran were able to help people, sometimes it felt like they were too late. Some people get away with their crimes, some don’t get the closure they need, and some fall through the cracks no matter how hard they tried to get help. As time went on it no longer felt rewarding.

Eventually they started reaching their breaking point. Along with a difficult job, their personal life were also taking a toll on them. At the time Fran and Mike had no idea where they wanted their relationship to go as they only saw each other as friends. They’ve dated others but nothing lasting - it’s especially rough since a few of their significant others have died (because stopping crime is a dangerous job and can sometimes have a rough price to pay). So obviously with romance not working in their favor, they’d be put off by it.

According to Pearl, Fran was the one in major denial. Although they’re cousins, they’re more like siblings as they basically grew up together under the same roof. Mike was a bit luckier when it came to finding dates, even when short lived, and Pearl could tell that Fran was jealous, even when he tried to deny it.

Soon it became obvious to others that Fran was pining for Mike and hiding it by picking on him more than usual. He can be snappy at times, but never outright mean. A combo of stress from life and seemingly unrequited love is a recipe for disaster.

While Mike is more open with his feelings in general, he can be a bit obvious at times. It was clear that he felt the same way about Fran but didn’t realize the feeling was mutual. He’s a life of the party guy, more outgoing and funny - a contrast with Fran’s serious and laid back demeanor. However both are sensitive and great at reading people (though not themselves apparently) and for the most part seemed to be in tune with each other.

So at the time their relationship was going through a rough patch. Then after a case gone wrong coupled with personal life issues, Fran requested a temporary change in partners, throwing Mike off guard. Things obviously didn’t go well and it furthered their disillusionment regarding work.

Eventually they worked things out and became partners again after a long and heated argument. It didn’t quite resolve everything, but at least it was a step in making amends. Work was still rough, but at least they can work together.

The billionaire drug dealer case marked the end of their lives as detectives. By then they were seriously considering resigning as working on the case was going nowhere and innocent people were getting killed. As requested by their boss, Fran and Mike took a day off to de-stress. So they hung out at the bar like usual and Pearl happened to be visiting home so her being there was nice.

What started out as a great day ended on a low note. After leaving the bar, the guys decided to take a drive to the ocean, which turned to a midnight walk along the beach. It was the first time in forever since they were able to relax like it was the good old days.

But when they made their way back to Mike’s car, someone drove by and fired at them. Fran suffered minor injuries while Mike was in critical condition. Knowing that the shooter was related to the case they were working on, Fran vowed to stop the criminals.

While Fran worked feverishly to take down the billionaires, Mike was fighting for his life. There were a few close calls and everyone was on edge. Pearl hung around and kept a close eye on Fran, making sure he didn’t work himself to death.

After Mike pulled through and Fran apprehended the criminals, Pearl has enough of them walking on eggshells regarding their futures. Even though Fran barely left Mike’s side, he was more closed up than usual, prompting Mike to worry about him. It wasn’t easy but they finally opened up to each other.

Once they confessed and declared their love for each other, it was like a huge weight was lifted off their shoulders. After considering their options, they decided not only to quit their jobs, but to also leave Chester Faversham. What they wanted to do next was unclear except that as long as they had each other, they’re ready to take on what life has in store for them.

With a renewed sense of living, Mike turned to vlogging. He always had an interest in video editing so Pearl suggested that he take classes on it. As for Fran he’s a bit of a theatre nerd like Pearl and dabbled in songwriting so he decided to pursue music. So they joined Pearl and Marianne in Peace Coast Island.

Since then, life has been great for Mike and Fran. A while back Pearl said she noticed how much happier Fran has been in years since leaving Chester Faversham. I can tell from their early vlogs to their latest ones how much things have changed for the two of them. Mike’s vlog has been growing steadily and it’s clear how much he loves doing it. Meanwhile Fran’s working on his second album due later this year and is planning to audition for more shows at Starlight Theatre alongside Pearl and Marianne.

Whenever I see Mike and Fran holding each other, I can’t help but smile. Long before they became a couple they were always physically affectionate like that.

Nothing like game night at an arcade to bring out some friendly competition!

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #acpc #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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g0ldpainted · 7 years

Text

Ravus cheating on S/O

Heya! This is the final boi that had yet to be released. I did some touch-ups because I wasn’t happy with it - aah y’know what I mean. I hope you enjoy it! :)

Noctis cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Gladio cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Prompto cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Ignis cheating 1 ; 2

Words: 5140+

Genre: Angst, heartbreak, “happy end”, alternative game route

Spoilers: Yes! It plays during the game.

Trigger Warnings: Explicit sexual act depicted briefly, cheating

Being in a long distance relationship means commitment, honesty and tons of trust but most of all, patience - at least for Ravus and his S/O. Their love started at the Niflheim army. While Ravus was forced to join, his S/O joined on their own because they wanted to take revenge for their parents. They were killed by Lucians. His S/O was fairly shy yet incredibly talented, they immediately caught Ravus' eye. Their mysteriousness attracted the blonde - Ravus was determined to get to know them. It was their aura, they were different from everyone else. Before he knew it, he was head over heels in love with them. They weren't easy to crack, had a pretty hard shell and high walls built around them, but every minute of lowering their walls, opening their shell was worth it. Ravus himself wasn't the most sociable guy. To say it was easy for him would be a lie. Both of them had to learn how to open up to one another and in the process, they fell for each other.

Once the ice melted, it didn't take long before they were dating. His S/O was the one who initiated their first kiss and after their first kiss came many, many more. Sooner or later Ravus was at their mercy, completely and deeply in love with them. His S/O felt the same way so they decided to give it a shot and date - but chose to keep it a secret from all other cadets for the sake of rumors. They were inseparable and on top of that, each other's firsts in any- and everything related to love. During missions, they complemented each other perfectly; what one couldn't pull off, the other did with ease. And that was exactly why people suspected that they were in a relationship.

It was one unfortunate evening they spent cuddling that revealed it all - they were caught as another drunk cadet broke into Ravus' room. In result, they had to make their relationship public.

If that one cadet hadn't told everyone about what he saw that night, perhaps nothing would've caused their love to be put through a hard trial: they were parted, not allowed to go on missions together any longer.

Full of worry for each other, both became clumsy, inattentive. While Ravus learned to deal with it, learned to appreciate being able to embrace them in the evenings after a long mission, his S/O started having slip-ups. They eventually ended up getting wounded fatally. It was thanks to urgent first aid that they survived. While the Niflheim army paid for their healing process, they immediately broke their contract, threw them out. That one slip up almost cost them their life, but most certainly their job - they were excluded from the army.

And that's how their long distance relationship began. After 2 years of dating at the army, they had to get used to some distance separating them. Ravus invited them to live at Fenestala Manor, the place he grew up in with his family. While they happily accepted his offer, seeing it as him proving his love, they were still divided. Ravus wasn't home for the majority of the time, was busy working for the army, so his S/O was left alone with his sister Lunafreya, the oracle. It was pure luck that Luna and them got along so well they became friends. Luna even tried to heal their wounds and broken bones.

Whenever Ravus was off for a day and he dropped by for a visit, they spent time alone. For the first time since they got together, they could hold each other, kiss or make love without the constant fear of someone interrupting. Their relationship was going great. The first few weeks of them staying at his Manor, while they were still wounded, Ravus continuously sent herbs, tea, special ointments - anything that'd help soothe their pain. And when he was around, he was their own personal butler - the actual prince of Tenebrae loved pampering his S/O. Once they got better, they even had dates outside of someone's room! They enjoyed the beautiful nature, especially the fields of flowers, together. Needlessly to say, they were both head over heels in love; fantasizing about their future, talking about having a family, exchanging innocent pecks, writing love letters when they were separated,.. - It was going incredibly good for them, although they were torn apart by distance and each time he left their hearts ached. But that all changed when Ravus was promoted to deputy high commander years later.

They knew he had worked hard to reach a high level, were with him all along, so they didn't want to complain about him being even busier than he used to be.. But with each visit, they seemed to be growing apart. Something about him was different, more determined and stubborn. They often argued - which was something they hardly ever did in the past years.

Finally, when Niflheim attacked Lucis and Ravus was wounded severely due to what seemed to be his own greed, their relationship began to crack. His S/O was infuriated, their boyfriend was going through immense pain but they couldn't be around. What worried them, even more, was that Luna left their mansion, too. She was on her way to get married to Noctis, the prince of Insomnia. Therefore, Ravus' S/O was all on their own. Until some Niflheim troops came to pick them up. Ravus demanded to see them while he was off duty to heal.

But when they met, all they felt was heartache.

A magitek prosthetic replaced their boyfriends left arm. But along with that, his eye color changed, he suddenly had heterochromia eyes. And most importantly, his character adjusted. All that was on his mind was his sister - which was a good thing considering she was in a dangerous situation - and war. He continuously babbled on about plans and couldn't find a minute to calm down or focus on his S/O. The only thing that took his mind off was sex. The rough, reckless and painful-if-not-done-correctly type - not the one that was rough and nice. Unfortunately, that sex was also the only reason he flew his S/O in. When they declined his advances, told him to stop, he began raging. Not only did it scare them, it also made them feel like an object. In those 48 hours they were given before they'd be flown back to Tenebrae, they slept with him just once. One time that made their body feel like it was about to break in two. He hurt them, couldn't quite control his new power.. But he didn't care, ignored their pleas to stop. Perhaps if they hadn't been in tremendous pain, they wouldn't have declined the quickie he demanded before they left.

Their goodbye wasn't heartfelt. Ravus seemed to be bitter, unsatisfied, upset with his S/O for not delivering some kind of duty that they apparently had as his lover. Still, he didn't show concern for their aching body, didn't even apologize. Eventually, his S/O was sent back to Tenebrae, violated, in pain and devastated by their boyfriends actions.

For months, they barely had any contact. While they still wrote love letters to him, telling him how much they love them, he didn't seem to appreciate it. They were lucky if he replied. The flowers he usually sent them? Nope, he stopped doing that, too. He didn't visit them either. Ravus changed. They were all alone in the huge Nox Fleuret Manor. The only person occasionally checking on them was Maria.

She was the one that delivered the horrible news of Luna's passing and that their beloved boyfriend was now aiming to deliver King Regis' blade to Noctis. Followed by the delivering of that news, daemons started attacking Tenebrae. Ravus' S/O barely fled from them and the fires spreading through the grass. They spent multiple hours trying to reach their boyfriend, trying to find out what was going on. Somehow, they accidentally ended up calling some other commander which sent troops to pick them up. They didn't know that it was Niflheim that made those daemons attack, otherwise, they wouldn’t have called them for help. At this point, they considered themselves lucky for having reached anyone that was willing to help.

However, unlike before, they were suddenly treated like a criminal, pushed around with a gun pointing at their head until they arrived at the base they knew so well. The base it all started at.

Knowing they'd soon be in the arms of their lover, someone that was sure to need them after the passing of his sister, they felt at ease even though they were handled roughly by the troops. They were clinging onto the Ravus they got to know, the Ravus they loved.. And sincerely hoped he'd shine through now that something so terrible happened. Little did they know that nothing could've ever prepared them for what they were about to witness.

"It'll all be okay soon" they continuously reminded themselves.

"His room is over there, walk on your own!" one of the troopers ordered them, pushing them forward with their rifle.

Stumbling towards what seemed to be their boyfriend's new room, they rolled their eyes. Just like anyone else, they certainly didn't like this kind of treatment. What really threw them off were their chuckles. They started making fun of them.

"I'd appreciate if you'd leave me alone," they informed them, glancing over their shoulder with a frown.

"Shut up and knock!" one of them shouted.

Sighing, they stepped forward and finally knocked. The whispers and laughs behind them were confusing but once they knocked a little harder and the door opened lightly, they knew why. Soft moans and grunts rang through to their ears - it was undoubtedly Ravus' voice.. But not only his'. As a female moaned fairly loud, their heart started racing.

"This can't be.." they thought to themselves as the laugher behind them grew louder.

Although Ravus had hurt them before, they didn't want to throw their 9 year long relationship away. They still loved him dearly and believed that it was just one slip up, that he would apologize when they confront him about it, that he never actually meant to hurt them but underestimated his desire and new powers. They were convinced he still loved them. But now that they stood in front of his room.. And heard those unpleasant noises, they were beginning to doubt it, even felt naïve for believing in his good side.

Ignoring the noises behind them, they slowly stepped inside the room, trying hard not to make too much noise. To ensure no one would follow, they closed and locked the door.. Then slowly walked into the room. Their stomach dropped as they saw their boyfriend on top of some busty, dirty-blonde haired woman in his bed. They were having sex. Her legs were wrapped around their boyfriend's waist, pulling him closer.

"Ravus' ugh.. Harder, please" the female begged, scratching his back as he followed their command.

Judging by how hard the bed rattled, he was once again practicing rough sex. But at least this woman seemed to enjoy it.. Unlike his S/O.

"Ngh, you feel incredible" he groaned while he continuously thrust into them.

Watching their boyfriend screw some other lady made them feel sick to the bones. Their heart broke with every second of them going at it but instead of feeling the pain, they immediately began to feel numb. Eventually, he flipped the woman over and roughly tugged on her hair. When they saw how bruised parts of her body were, full of hickeys, bites.. And perhaps even slaps, they started fighting their tears.

"Is he.. Really into something.. So rough?" they wondered, shaking their head in disbelief, "Is he really cheating on me..?"

Fearing he'd get angry at them for interrupting, they decided to keep quiet. Usually, they were rather proud, would walk right out of a situation that upset them.. But this was different. Ravus was their first boyfriend, they had never been cheated on before.. They didn't know how to react, couldn't tear their eyes off of the scene, couldn't stop watching their boyfriend have sex with some female. His S/O was frozen in place. Nine years of pure love thrown out of the window. A terrible emptiness started spreading inside of them.

"Aaah! Ravus, it feels so good - k-keep going" the female ordered him, holding herself up on all fours.

As the prince of Tenebrae slapped the females butt repeatedly, his S/O flinched. The way he caressed it once his imprint was showing sickened them. When he took time between his thrusts, even slipped out of them just to place a delicate kiss on the bruised buttock, they were dangerously close to throwing up.

"You know I love that ass of yours" he proclaimed, following by biting it.

Hearing him use vulgar language was rare. If he ever brought up swears or something of that sort, he didn't hesitate to apologize. No matter how many times his partner told him it was okay.

"Then how about you claim it?" she playfully suggested, glancing over her shoulder to look at him.

"I will" he informed her before leaving another imprint of his teeth on her butt.

Without any warning, he entered her again, making her lose her balance and moan loudly. Pulling her up against his body, Ravus thrust away inside of her.

"Oh baby, your dick is amazing" she moaned into his ear.

In return, he started nibbling on her neck. At this point, tears were already running down his S/O's cheeks. The way they felt was indescribable, a mixture between empty, disappointed, frustrated, upset and plain sad. These walls that Ravus tried so hard to lower, the shell he cracked so carefully.. It both stared rising back up. They began to shield themselves, erase him out of their comfort zone. His betrayal was too much.

"Fuck, I love this" he proclaimed, slowly climbing out of the bed, tugging her along the entire time, never breaking their connection.

Right when he was turning around with the female in his arms, ready to press her against some nearby wall, he saw his S/O. His eyes immediately widened and he let go of the female in front of him. It was then that his S/O saw the ropes tied around her chest area and limbs. Her front was severely bruised, too. Not just from hickeys or bites. The ropes seemed to be too tight, hurt her body - but she enjoyed it.

"Ravus.." they spoke softly, quickly wiping their tears away while they were being watched by two pairs of eyes.

"Is that your.." the female quietly asked.

"How did you..- I.." he stuttered, grabbing a blanket to cover himself and a robe to cover the female in front of him.

In return, they just shook their head, unable to speak. To avoid looking at him and the tied up female, they covered their eyes. It was also a nice way to hide their never-ending tears. They couldn't stop themselves from sobbing, though.

"This is…- (Y/N).. I..- It's not what it looks like.. Let me explain," he begged, stepping closer to them.

When he tried to touch their shoulders, they pushed his hands off. They were filthy, perhaps full of some other woman's fluids.

"It's just the deed" the female added, "We're only having sex."

"Only having sex" his S/O mimicked and mocked.

"It's.. It's true. I couldn't-.. You weren't-.. " he stumbled upon words, not finding the right ones.

"Ravus, we've been dating for nine fucking years! Nine years!" his S/O suddenly shouted, revealing their bloodshot red eyes to him, "Until you got that stupid prosthetic, we were doing just fine!"

Gulping, he stared right at them.

"Odelia.. Please, leave" he commanded the female behind him, only turning around to undo her ropes real quick.

Unable to process this whole ordeal, his S/O sat down on a small couch, putting their head in their hands. Once all ropes were gone, the woman quickly threw on her clothes and left. Meanwhile, Ravus just watched his S/O struggle - he wanted to wait until Odelia was gone before he'd say anything else.

"(Y/N).. I promise, I only love you" he finally stepped closer and sat down beside them so they'd be on the same level.

"How am I supposed to believe this when I just saw you screwing another woman?!" they snapped, moving away from him.

"I.. I figured I hurt you last time we had intercourse - I couldn't risk doing that again" he defended himself.

"Oh, and so you thought you could just fuck anyone without even contemplating to ask me first?!" they argued, biting their lip hard, "I thought we were exclusive and certainly not in some kind of open relationship."

"I assumed it'd only cause damage to our re-"

"What do you think this just did? I witnessed my boyfriend's weird kinks that he apparently likes to enjoy with strange women," they continued to snap at him, not holding back anymore now that they saw he wasn't feeling angry today.

"I'd love to do this with you - it's just I.. I know it hurts you," he explained, biting his lip hard, knowing he was at fault for having cheated.

"Ravus stop this bullshit! Not once did you apologize to me or say anything regards the bruises you left on my body - I believed you'd feel bad about it and apparently I was right - but don't play like you were just trying to be the kind guy not wanting to damage his lover," they returned, growing colder by second.

"I have to admit, this new arm does things to me. It was hard to control at first.. And it took me quite a while to figure things out but-"

"I don't care! I was patiently waiting for you to visit me, I was waiting for you to reply to me, I was waiting for any kind of sign that you still love me. Hell, you didn't even pick up your phone most of the time even though we promised to each other we'd have a phone call every day unless it's impossible," they threw more arguments in his direction.

Sighing, he nodded: "I made a mistake. I shouldn't have abandoned you. I-"

"Do you love her? Is that why we're falling apart?" they asked him, staring right into his heterochromia eyes.

"No, I don't" he firmly replied, telling the truth, "I only love you."

"But if you love me, how can you just.. cheat on me so easily?" they quietly said before sobbing, feeling their frustration pass to sadness, "I'm aware we're lacking intimacy - it's because of the distance - but so far we always found ways to.. Still exchange some form of intimacy. Is it because we're lacking sex?"

"Ugh.. No. I-I was hoping.. You wouldn't consider it that" he admitted, "It's complicated to explain.. but ever since I got treated, received my prosthetic, I've had different urges and needs. It seems to have changed a part of me. For the sake of your safety, I decided to explore it on my own. Magiteks can be unpredictable, I feared this arm could be too. That day I caused harm to you, I figured I'd have to learn how to handle it properly. I couldn't let myself get carried away again and cause even greater damage to you."

"So you admit this prosthetic shit changed you?" they gulped, "Because I very much noticed that, too."

"It did. It still affects me. For the longest time, I felt a lot angrier.. Which is why we fought so much. And I took my anger out on you.. In bed. Don't you think I heard your cries that night? I didn't ever want to do that again. So… ever since you left, I've had arranged intercourse with Ophelia. She is into.. Harder, rougher stuff.. So I can explore that part with her - without causing you harm" he went on to explain.

"Ever since I left!?" they exclaimed, "Ravus, it's been ages since I last saw you. We didn't even spend our anniversary together. All I got was a fucking 5-minute phone call. You said you were in a rush - in a rush to fuck her maybe?.. This just sounds like a stupid excuse for you to cheat on me. I've spent months waiting for you, wishing you were with me and you just selfishly cheated on me."

"I.. I know. Please believe me when I say that I never intended to hurt you.." he spoke softly, carefully reaching out for their hand, "And no, I was indeed busy participating in meetings on our anniversary. Our next mission started the morning after."

"You could've called me in the evening. Say.. While you're taking a bath or something. Instead, you called me between meetings. This was our 9 year anniversary, not just some bullshit first-month celebration.. It actually holds meaning.. At least to me.." they returned, not having his words.

"It does mean a lot to me, too" he replied, watching them intently, "I just.. I honestly didn't think of calling you while getting ready for bed.. I'm sorry."

"You, out of all the people, should know how important communication in a long distance relationship is.. We've been in one for years. Around 7 to be exact. I always thought we were exclusive. But apparently we're not - since you think you have a free pass to fuck whoever you want" they groaned, "Patience.. Trust.. Honesty.. Commitment - you weren't honest with me, weren't committed to me, betrayed my trust and took advantage of my patience. How is this supposed to go on? When did you want to share your little cheat-time stories with me?"

Ravus nodded slowly, agreed to him having failed them. He didn't deserve them and he was well aware of it. But he needed them and he was willing to fight for them.

"I should've told you from the start. Should've played with open cards. Your opinion should be something that matters most to me - especially in cases such as this. However, I knew you would disagree. Anyone would. But I needed to find a way to figure those urges out and to satisfy these needs.. They were unbea-"

"Alright, then I'll just cheat on you whenever I feel an itch, too" they raised their hands up in surrender, wiping more tears away right after, "Is that really what you're trying to tell me? That you were feeling especially horny and decided it'd be a good idea to fuck a stranger..? Couldn't you just work out harder to get rid of your extra anger?"

Both sighed in sync.

"It's not just.. An itch, working out doesn't fix it. Don't you think I've tried that, too? But it's distracting, making it harder to focus..-"

"You could've flown me in!"

"But then I would've hurt you again. There was no winning this situation."

Finding no words to say, they just shook their head in reply. To them, he wanted to play the victim card on him. He wanted to say that he had this evil prosthetic that ended up making him cheat, that it was something he had to do to not hurt them. They couldn’t just believe that.

"How do you expect this to go on?" they murmured, "I can't trust you anymore."

"I.. I'm hoping to be able to prove my love to you. I don't want to lose you" he announced, gulping as he watched them.

"I just caught you cheating.. I-.. I really don't want to be in a relationship with you right now.. Hell, I don't even want to be here.." they whispered, turning their head away, "You have someone else that's dear to you anyway, why would it matter if I'd just disappear again."

"That's lies. Ophelia is not dear to me. We're - at most - friends -"

"Friends with benefits" his S/O threw in.

"Then.. We're that, okay. But I don't consider her someone precious to me - unlike you. You're the most precious to me. I love you - only you," he explained, trying hard to sound convincing - while he wasn't lying, he knew they'd have a hard time believing him.

"Ravus, then why do you think it's okay to betray me like that? You've been sleeping with someone - behind my back. I've never even thought about having sex with anyone aside from you. I've never gotten the 'taste' of another man - because I stay true to you," they pointed out while they began to lose their will to continue fighting, it was too exhausting.

"If that's what you want, I'll -.. You can go ahead and sleep with someone else" he gave in, unsure of what else to say.

"Oh c'mon, what kind of relationship would that be if we both just continuously cheat on each other?!" his S/O complained, glaring at him, "I, unlike you, prefer to stay loyal to the one I love."

Again, both sighed.

"I.. Don't know if we can go on. You cheated on me for months.." his S/O quietly admitted, folding their hands in their lap as more tears ran down their cheek, "I.. I always wanted a future with you. Getting married, starting a family, growing old.. - but..-"

"Please, I'm begging you, (Y/N), give me a chance to prove my intentions to you. I.. I won't ever neglect you again, I'll do everything you want me to - but please don't leave me" he begged, actually going on his knees in front of them, cupping their hands in his.

That slight touch was enough to send shivers down their spine. That tiny touch made their heart skip a beat when it already felt so dead. As disgusting as this situation was, they still loved him, they wanted to believe him, they wanted to spend their future with him. And they loved his touches, secretly longed for them. That's what made all these past months so unbearable for them and this betrayal even worse: they desired his touch but he didn't desire theirs.

"Fine.." they quietly accepted his proposal, not having enough power to fight any longer - it hurt too much, "But.. The only reason why I'm staying is that I need a new home. The Nifs destroyed your hometown.."

Again, Ravus' eyes widened in shock - he hadn't known about this - but he refrained from switching the subject. First, he had to make up for his mistakes, then consider asking for more details on the actions that took place behind his back.

"You can live here - we won't have to deal with the distance anymore and we could be with each other the entire time" he suggested, sounding hopeful, "I promise, I won't take this for granted."

The idea of being with him, sleeping next to him, being held by him, warmed them from within. It's what they always dreamed off. It was unfortunate that it had to be under these circumstances.

"No.. I.. We need to take it incredibly slow now.." they informed him, feeling their walls just continuously rising.

They had on other choice, anyway. Where would they go if the place they lived at was destroyed? Maybe their home? They don't have an actual home anymore aside from the Fleuret House.

"That's fine by me. We.. We'll take it slow and work things out. I'm grateful for anything" he said, squeezing their hands softly.

"Okay.. and now put on some clothes.." they commanded him, slowly pulling their hands out of his.

In the end, they decided to temporarily start over.

His S/O, unfortunately, experienced first hand how ugly his urges were and how unappealing his new needs were to them. For a while, they still pushed him off, told him there wasn't going to be any physical intimacy. To them, it had always been special, it held meaning.. But now that it didn't seem to hold meaning to him anymore, they were hard to convince to cuddle or even have sex. It took months before they eventually gave in. By that time, Ravus was so pleasure-deprived, he completely let himself go. For the sake of wanting to stay with him and wanting him to be loyal to them, his S/O let him go all out on them. And they immediately regretted it. They had to beg him to stop - thank the almighty astrals that he heard it and actually stopped this time. Their body shook with unpleasant pain before it even really began. That's when they knew their future wasn't looking bright.

They decided to stay together, though.

The longer Ravus dealt with his prosthetic, the easier it was to control it all. So now, when he was with his S/O, he could enjoy their fairly innocent love again. But every once in a while, he still had those urges that his S/O refused to satisfy. Just so he wouldn't go insane, they let him cheat. They let him have an affair with that woman - but only for when his "urges" were bad.

As much as it hurt them to know he enjoyed something so intimate with someone else, they believed it was the right thing to do. However, they set up rules for him. Rules to better their relationship. And with the help of those, they managed to pull through. It was difficult, very difficult. Especially when his S/O was forced to leave him again, live somewhere else. But it didn't stop their love - only made it harder again. They were used to distance, though, it wasn't hard for them to master this.

Ravus visited them at least twice a month and each time, he brought little souvenirs, something to show them how much he appreciated them. It was also him who announced no longer wanting to meet up with Ophelia. He was convinced he could control his prosthetic well enough, that he wouldn't hurt them anymore. And aside from that, he was tired of seeing his lover put on a façade whenever he mentioned seeing her - it was one of their rules that he'd inform them about it.

Much to his S/O's surprise, he worked hard to rebuild their trust, make them open up entirely again. And he did it. He made them forgive him. It was a long and very hard way until they could fully trust him again but eventually, they got engaged in celebration of their 10 year anniversary. They both believed in their future and decided to give it another shot.

Masterlist ; Noctis cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Gladio cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Prompto cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Ignis cheating 1 ; 2

#ffxv #ff15 #final fantasy 15 #final fantasy xv #ff #final fantasy #final fantasy fanfiction #final fantasy fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #ravus #ravus nox fleuret #ravus x reader #tw: cheating #tw: sex #tw: graphic content

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daisydoctor13 · 7 years

Text

This is the sound of my soul (Berena fic)

Rating: General audiences

St. Cuthbert’s School for Boys & St. Winifred’s School for Girls Class of 1983 invites you to prom night. Friday 15th July 6:30pm. Black Tie, Formal Dinner and DJ.

“You’ve got to go Serena you’re the head girl. What head girl doesn’t go to the prom? It’s right up your street: music, dancing, smuggling alcohol in and having your wicked way with half the boys at St Cuthbert’s.”

Serena pouted at Bernie, who was lounging on her bed idly flicking through her chemistry textbook, not trying to study at all, and distracting Serena in the process. Not that Bernie needed to study, she had the infuriating ability to cram the day before an exam and come out with incredible grades, when Serena had slogged all year round. If they weren’t best friends, they’d be at each other’s throats most of the time.

They were, to begin with. Bernie’s surliness and reluctance to make friends when she started at St Winifred’s, which she regarded as punishment by her parents who wanted her to act like a ‘proper lady’, meant she pushed everyone away. That was an insult to Serena, who made it her duty to befriend every new girl, and took it personally when Bernie rejected her advances. They both competed for top in the class, Bernie regarding Serena as a swot, teacher’s pet, and Serena hating Bernie’s effortless academic ability. And sporting prowess, and musical talents (although Bernie later admitted that she absolutely hated the violin, and was only good because her parents forced her to practice at home).

“Ha, smuggling alcohol in? I think that’s your area of expertise, anyway, if the head girl has to go, surely Hockey and Lacrosse captain needs to be there as well? Especially the one that has dragged St Winifred’s to the top of the league from pretty much the bottom?”

Bernie’s smile dropped from her face. Prom was not her idea of fun, and she had been planning on avoiding it. She didn’t feel any particular nostalgia or link to this school, the only true friend she had was Serena and she didn’t want to be hanging around her all night, when Serena was the life and soul of the party.

It was Bernie who reached out to Serena. During their O level year, Serena’s father fell ill and she was worried about him. Being so far away meant she only knew what her mother told her. Which wasn’t much, because Adrienne wanted her to focus on her exams rather than fret. The lack of information only made her fret more, and her grades slipped in a few tests.

When the result of one biology assessment was released, Bernie quickly glanced up at Serena across the room, she was quite far down the list. Serena couldn’t bear the thought of Bernie aloof and gloating and swept out of the room. If she’d looked properly she’d have only seen concern in those hazel eyes. Bernie followed her, found her in the toilets splashing water against her face and doing her best not to cry. But instead of being patronising or smug, Bernie simply patted Serena’s shoulder and said “I’ve got whiskey in my dorm, if you want?”

That evening they clambered onto the roof from Bernie’s room, passing the bottle of whiskey between them. A large tartan blanket behind a turret made Serena think Bernie probably spent a lot of time up there. She draped the blanket over the two of them and sat as close to Serena as possible without actually touching. Bernie didn’t pushed her to talk, but gazed out over the school grounds.

Serena didn’t know what it was about Bernie, but she found herself telling this girl, to whom she’d barely spoken two words, everything. Her father’s illness, her mother’s high expectations, how despite her apparent popularity in school, she didn’t feel like she had anyone that she could trust, who understood her and knew the real her. She portrayed the person she thought the other girls would like, and sometimes she felt like a fraud. Bernie listened, nodded but never interrupted, letting her get it all out, awkwardly patting her knee and offering a tissue when she cried.

After that, they became closer. Their trips to the roof were more frequent although Serena brought coffee or chocolate rather than alcohol, not wanting to drink in the run up to exams. Bernie opened up, about her strict parents, their disapproval of her tomboy looks and desire to join the army when she became a doctor. Her father didn’t think the army was a place for ladies, wasn’t even particularly keen on women being doctors. The rest of the girls in their year were puzzled by the developing friendship between two rivals. They were still fiercely competitive, every assignment and test they battled to get top spot, but there was no animosity between them anymore.

“Why don’t you want to go, Serena?”

At this Serena sighed and shut her book, knowing she wouldn’t be getting much more done. Why didn’t she want to go? Bernie was right, it was her idea of a great night. But when Bernie had said she wasn’t going, she had gone off the idea. Celebrating their last year at school, the rite of passage into adulthood wouldn’t be the same if her best friend wasn’t there.

But how could she say that to Bernie? It sounded needy, and she knew Bernie was reluctant to go. She couldn’t force her, because if Serena said that, Bernie would of course agree to go, even though they both knew she wouldn’t enjoy it.

“I don’t know Bernie, I guess it’s just difficult to think about enjoying myself when we’ve got exams coming up.” Bernie pursed her lips, she didn’t believe her but was willing to let it drop.

“In that case, you’ve got to go. You’ll need it after all the hard work you’re putting in.” She picked the textbook back up and Serena hoped that would be the last she heard of it.

It wasn’t, although it wasn’t specifically Bernie that brought it up. The weekly post hand out during Saturday breakfast caused a bit of a stir. They couldn’t quite see what was going on, but a lot of the girls were squealing and giggling in delight. It soon became apparent as a large cream envelope, heavy paper and dark blue ink, dropped in front of Bernie’s plate. This was the biggest shock of all. She never got post, once a term she received a brief note from her parents, short and factual, telling her family news and what she would be doing over the holidays.

It was immediately obvious this wasn’t from her parents. The hand writing on the envelope was large, clumsy and the ink had been smudged a little. The main giveaway was the rose taped across the corner, causing Bernie to gape at the letter.

“This can’t be mine!” She exclaimed, as girls crowded behind her, eager to see what the letter contained.

Serena quirked an amused eyebrow at her friend. “Do you know any other Berenice Wolfes?”

Bernie looked up at her from the letter, hands trembling. Who could have sent this to her, was it a joke, a dare? She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, feeling claustrophobic with the crush of bodies peering over her shoulder.

Serena stood, pulling her up and leading her out of the hall, away from embarrassment. Bernie hated being the centre of attention. She wanted a reputation based on her academics or accomplishments and did not want to be subject to gossip or humiliation. Serena knew this and made a loud excuse of needing to finish an essay.

They went straight up to the roof, although they were in final year now and had the privilege of their own rooms, it was still a place that they both liked to share, no chance of any disturbance. Serena leant against the wall as Bernie slumped down and ripped open the envelope. Inside was a short note that Bernie read, her furrowed brow soon disappearing up into her fringe as her expression turned incredulous.

“It’s an invite!” She exclaimed, waving it at Serena. “To go to prom with Marcus, of all people!” Serena caught the paper and skimmed through the note. It seemed genuine, no hint that it could be a hoax, his mates egging him on.

Bernie,

You have been a good friend to me for the past year and helped me enormously with the rugby team, when you had no obligation to. I admire you and although I have never had the courage to tell you, I think you are wonderful. Would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the prom?

Yours,

Marcus

She glanced up at Bernie who was pacing across the short space furiously. “Why would he ask me? Like this, so publicly? Who does he think he is? We’re friends, when have I ever given him reason to think I might be interested in him like that?”

She stopped and stared at Serena, hoping she could answer these questions, tell her how to let him down, say anything. She was just as clueless, unfortunately. “I’ve got to tell him no, and he’s got a typical fragile male ego. He won’t like it.”

Serena bit her lip and sighed. She could see Bernie was furious. Sending a letter to her, knowing she’d get it in front of her peers. Marcus should have known Bernie wouldn’t have liked it, although he clearly couldn’t read Bernie well anyway, if he thought she would go to prom with him.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Marcus recently,” Serena smirked at her, after she had come back from a long training session, followed by a coffee with the rugby captain at St Cuthbert’s, their brother school. Bernie frowned in confusion.

“We were planning the charity match, and I was helping him with some management tactics. His vice-captain is causing trouble, saying he’d be a better captain. Honestly, I thought girls were meant to be the bitchy ones.”

Serena quirked an eyebrow and chuckled at her. The realisation of what Serena had been implying dawned on her. “Oh, right, no I’m, uh, not really interested. In him.”

She nodded in understanding, Bernie had never shown an interest in the boys at the other school, her parents would say she was there to learn, she merely stated she was perfectly content as she was.

“Does he know that, Bernie?”

She hadn’t thought about that before. It hadn’t occurred to her that Marcus, well, any boy would be interested in her like that. Partly because she wasn’t a typically attractive girl - untameable hair and gangly limbs - and she couldn’t imagine anyone looking at her when her best friend was Serena McKinnie. Radiant, confident, flirty. Everything an eighteen-year-old boy could want, and more.

“You know half our year would kill to go out for coffee with him. Captain of the rugby team, total hunk. Some girls can be so shallow.”

Bernie chuckled at this, knowing Serena could be just as bad. “Hmmm, I guess,” she agreed. Yes, Marcus Dunn was physically fit, broad shoulders, strong arms. She should find him attractive, but she didn’t. “Not really my type.”

Something flashed in Serena’s eyes - acknowledgment, understanding, but she didn’t anything, was about to move on to a new topic of conversation. The words tumbled from Bernie’s lip, she couldn’t keep it from Serena any longer. If she spoke slowly the words would dry up, she couldn’t be sure how Serena would react. It was too late now.

“Not my type, at all, be-because I like, um, girls. Yeah, I’m- I mean- I’m gay, Serena. I don’t want to keep it from you. You’re my best friend, and I can’t bear you not knowing. Is- is that okay?”

Serena’s face softened but Bernie glanced down, not wanting to meet her eyes, not knowing what she expected to see there.

“Of course, it’s okay, Bernie. I’ve been waiting for you to tell me. I didn’t want to push you into saying anything, but I’m glad you found the courage.”

“I wasn’t sure how you’d react. You’re the first person I’ve- hang on, what do you mean you’ve been waiting for me to say it?”

Serena playfully bumped her with her shoulder, trying to ease her friend’s awkwardness, show her rather than tell her that it didn’t matter, nothing to worry about.

“I’ve noticed little things, here and there. Don’t worry it’s not obvious, not to people that don’t really know you. But don’t try and tell me again that your stumbling pronunciation in French O Level was because you were rubbish at languages. You could do it perfectly in group work, but as soon as Miss Jessop asked you a question you could barely speak English, let alone another language.”

Bernie flushed at this, it was true she had a crush on the lovely French teacher, but she was a little worried that other people had noticed.

“How do I tell him no, Serena? I can’t tell him the truth, I don’t trust him enough not to tell everyone,” she trailed off. Since coming out to Serena, she had felt more at peace. They didn’t talk about it a lot, the walls of the boarding school had ears and very few people were accepting of homosexuality. She was happy that her best friend knew, and still accepted her. That was enough.

“He’s a nice guy I’m sure he can take the rejection. If you just say you weren’t planning on going anyway, he’ll understand. Anyway, he won’t be without alternatives.”

Marcus caught up with Bernie after training the next weekend.

“Hey, Bern, fancy a coffee?” He threw his arm around her shoulders in a friendly manner but she flinched away from the touch.

“Waterhouse still giving you trouble?” she asked, thinking he was wanting to talk tactics and ways to manage his unruly Vice-captain.

A brief look of confusion flashed across his face.

“What? Oh, no, I mean would you like to go for coffee together. You know. Talk about, uh, stuff.”

“Oh, right, sorry, I’ve got to write up a chemistry practical. Was there something in particular you wanted to talk about?”

“Well, you never got back to me, about prom?” He looked at her hopefully. She blanched, she had put it to the back of her mind, hoping he would forget.

“I wasn’t sure how to. Um, thank you for asking, and what you said was lovely,” she paused, working out the best way to say no without damaging their friendship. “I’m glad we’re friends, you’re great but I don’t really want to go with you. I mean, you’re a mate and it wouldn’t feel right.”

She was about to apologise, but his face had coloured.

“Why not? You’ve been so nice to me, we’ve spent so much time together. I assumed you liked me, Bern.”

She stared at him, her mouth open, astounded.

“We’re friends Marcus, we had to plan the match together, you needed some help. I enjoy chatting with you about sports and everything else. I’m sorry if you’ve got the wrong idea, I didn’t mean for that at all.”

“So, you don’t want to be anything more than friends?”

She shook her head, mumbling her apologies. His expression turned sour.

“You know, I could have my pick of the girls in your year, they practically throw themselves at me.”

“Well you should take one of them to prom then,” she wasn’t in the mood for this. She could tell he was about to use some bullshit ‘I’m not like other guys’ line and she wasn’t sure she could restrain herself from lashing out. She had a notoriously short temper, only beaten by Serena’s.

“I don’t want to Bernie, I want to take you. The lads think I’m mad, they don’t get you. They think you’re cold and surly, but I know you’re not.”

It wasn’t word for word, but the sentiment was still there. The ‘lads’ wouldn’t want to date Bernie, she should feel honoured that Marcus was asking.

“If you’re trying to compliment me, you’re doing it in a very backhanded way. Telling me no one else would want to take me to prom is not flattery. I’m sorry, Marcus, but I’m not interested.”

"Fine, your loss. You're right though, you'll go to prom on your own. I'm sure Serena McKinnie will find someone, and you'll be sat on the edge, watching everyone else have fun. In fact, I might ask her myself."

She laughed, Serena wouldn't accept an invitation from Marcus, she spent a lot of time calling him a pompous twat. It was true though, Serena had been approached by a few people although she had politely declined all of them.

The problem was, he was right. Bernie wouldn’t have anyone to socialise with other than Serena. It’s mainly why she didn’t want to go, because she didn’t want to spoil Serena’s fun. She would spend the night with Bernie because she felt she had a duty to her friend, when she should be enjoying herself.

“He should be so lucky!”

Bernie smirked, as she had expected, Serena did not seem enthusiastic at the news that Marcus would be asking her.

“He is such a twat, Bernie, I never knew why you were friends with him. This just proves it, he has a typically fragile male ego. Oh, I hope he does ask me, just so I can see the look on his face.”

Serena was furious, marching up and down her room, wearing a path into the carpet.

“Trying to claim that no one would take you to prom? It’s ridiculous. You know what, let’s show him. We’ll go together!”

Serena looked at Bernie with the anger and passion burning in her eyes. Bernie was floored. She’d made it clear to Serena that she didn’t want to go. Serena had grudgingly accepted that she had to, as head girl, but Bernie had put her foot down.

Now, though, there was a sparkle in Serena’s eye. She was appealing to Bernie’s vengeful side; the one Serena knew would be itching to get back at Marcus. It was true, she was angry with him for assuming and being spiteful.

She felt the breath catch in her throat. What would other people think? What would she wear? But Serena was already talking, barely registering Bernie’s panic. Once she got hold of an idea there was no stopping her.

“If you don’t go, he’ll think he’s right. But this will be a middle finger up to him, he’ll see we don’t need boys to have a good time. You especially.” She winked and Bernie found herself chuckling.

She pretended to ponder it for a moment, but she knew she would agree. Serena could always bring people round to her point of view, and Bernie found it difficult to refuse her. She nodded and Serena grinned, immediately grabbing her diary.

“Great, we’ll go shopping one weekend. When are your next matches?”

“The quicker you come out and show me, the quicker we can go back.” Serena crossed her arms and sighed impatiently. Bernie had given her a limit – she would try on three dresses and that was it.

“I’m not coming out,” Bernie called back, earning a dry chuckle from Serena.

“Bit late for that.”

“Ha, I’m serious Serena, the shoulders on this dress should be on an American football kit, not a prom dress.” She poked her head round the curtain and slowly revealed the dress. Serena could see what she meant. The dress was a lovely colour, deep purple, ruched satin but the shoulders were overexaggerated and her slender arms looked quite ridiculous poking out the bottom. She shook her head and Bernie disappeared back.

She waited for a few minutes, Bernie opening the curtain with a dramatic flourish and a frown on her face.

“No,” she said, crossing her arms. It was full length, with a lot of ruffles and a large skirt, stiff fabric layers poking out at various angles. “This last one had better be good.”

She returned without allowing Serena time to comment. She was sure the last one would be perfect, she’d only picked out the other two to show Bernie bad options, so she would like the third one. Also, seeing Bernie in ridiculous dresses was rather entertaining.

The curtain opened once more and Serena gasped. A no fuss, royal blue off the shoulder dress with a v neck that highlighted her collarbones. It had an asymmetrical hemline which ended at her knees at the front, slightly longer at the back. It showed a black lining, the colours contrasting perfectly.

“It’s perfect, Bernie, you’re going to make Marcus so jealous,” Bernie gave her a shy smile, she did like the dress although she wouldn’t admit it to Serena because she would be unbearably smug.

“Right, shall we find one for you then?” She asked as she appeared looking rather more comfortable in her casual clothes.

Serena patted her arm and grinned. “Don’t worry I’m not going to put you through that, Mum is sending me something she’s made.”

Bernie sighed with relief that the shopping was over and she wouldn’t have to sit around in the musty fitting room. They stopped in town for lunch, Serena seemed in her own world, usually she would talk incessantly, but she was quiet, staring at her plate.

“You okay?” Bernie questioned. “I thought you’d be more excited about me buying a dress, for the first time in…well, ever.”

She smiled, but it never reached her eyes.

“I’m just thinking…”

“Always dangerous,” she smirked, then reached over the table and placed her hands over Serena’s, stopping her from wringing them. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel like the term is going so quickly. Soon it’ll be summer, and then we’ll be going to university. What if I can’t do it? I don’t know what to do if I can’t do medicine. And you’ll be so far away.”

She could feel the fear and anxiety coming from Serena in waves. Despite her confident front that she showed to others, Bernie knew Serena was a worrier, always feeling like she wasn’t good enough. No amount of good grades or praise from teachers helped her to be truly confident in her abilities. She only hoped that medical school would show Serena how brilliant she truly was.

“I know it’s going quickly, but we’ve got a really long summer, we don’t start until the end of September. And frankly I’ll be glad when these blasted exams are over. You will be amazing, Serena, and hypothetically in some weird parallel universe where you aren’t good at medicine you can come and live with me and keep my room clean and make sure I eat properly.”

She grinned at Serena, who let out a low chuckle. She didn’t want to think about the last part, because she knew that being away from Serena was going to be hard. They spent most of their time together, teachers would be shocked if they saw one in the corridor without the other. She was the only thing about St. Winifred’s that Bernie would miss.

“And we can still write, and see each other in the holidays. I’ll want to get away from my parents anyway. It’ll be different, but you won’t want me cramping your style when you’re making friends.”

This earnt her a smile, and she relaxed a little. She hated seeing Serena so worked up and hoped she had done enough to reassure her. They spent the rest of their lunch gossiping about the girls in their year, who was cheating on who, the fact that Sian was still taking antibiotics for the rather nasty infected nose piercing, and generally chatting. This ease between them they would both miss, knowing it would change at university but not wanting to acknowledge it.

“I feel sick,” Serena was shuffling her notes, constantly checking they were in order. Bernie stilled her, putting her hands on Serena’s arms and looking her in the eye.

“You’ve got this Serena, ignore the rest of the school and the parents. Imagine you are practising to me, like last night. I’ll be in the seats, just look at me.”

It was the last day of term and the formal service and prize giving for the Upper Sixth was all that stood between them and freedom. The only problem was that, as head girl, Serena had to make a speech in front of the entire school and the parents of all the girls in their year. Her own mother would be there, and this made Serena even more nervous. She’d made speeches before, and deep down she knew when she got up there she would be able to speak confidently, but her anxiety wouldn’t let her think that.

She had practically memorised the speech, but still had notes just in case, and had practised to Bernie and in front of a mirror so many times she was bored of hearing it. They were stood outside the Great Hall, waiting to process in after everyone else was settled into their seats.

Serena simply nodded at Bernie, hoping her voice would come back when she was stood at the podium. The doors open and the organ started playing the processional hymn, the girls following the head teacher in, shuffling and mumbling the words as they tried not to trip over each other.

The service passed by Serena in a daze, Bernie had to prompt her to get up ready to collect her academic achievement award. She smiled and shook hands with the Head and sat back down, tapping her foot impatiently as she clapped for what felt like an hour. She applauded a little more vigorously when Bernie collected her sports trophies, although this was drowned out by the hockey team cheering their captain, much to the disapproval of a lot of the parents. Bernie blushed at the recognition, she didn’t think she was particularly popular but Serena knew a lot of the girls idolised her.

Eventually she heard her name, the applause from behind her and the soft ‘you’ll be amazing’ in her ear. She stood, smoothing her skirt and walking up the steps, gripping onto her notes. She gulped slightly as she saw the amount of people she was stood in front of, but immediately her eyes flicked down and found Bernie, smiling up at her with her typically messy light brown hair and untucked shirt.

She kept her eyes focused on her as she began, thanking the head and other staff and commencing her speech. Although she had written it herself, it had been thoroughly vetted by the head teacher, and she felt there was very little personality in it. Every head girl had pretty much the same speech, it was a formality that had to be done. But the last paragraph she had been allowed to talk about her own experience and what the school meant to her.

“St Winifred’s has been more than a school to me. It’s been my home, my family, for so many years. I have valued my time here and it has prepared me for the future, more than I could possibly have hoped. I have formed wonderful friendships, had enormous fun and learnt so much along the way. St Winifred’s has helped me, helped us all, to discover things about ourselves, talents and dreams that we will make a reality. I would like to thank you all for making my time here, and my year as Head Girl, so fantastic. I will miss this school and everyone in it, but I know without a doubt I will leave here with St Winifred’s occupying a space in my heart.”

She met Bernie’s eyes at this point, saw her friend closer to tears than she had ever been before, and her own eyes stung. It was true she would miss school, but the part of St Winifred’s that would be closest to her would be Bernie. The times they had spent on the roof, the scrapes they’d got into in chemistry, cheering her on from the side lines in hockey matches. Those were the moments she would cherish.

She had paused for longer than she had realised, but it didn’t matter because she had finished, and Bernie knew this so led the applause. She looked out to see the entire school getting to their feet, in appreciation for the Head Girl they respected so much. Bernie was stood, with a smug ‘I told you so’ face on, no doubt because she had reassured Serena so many times that her speech would be a success and everyone loved her.

She dipped her head in acknowledgment and headed back to her seat where Bernie punched her arm playfully and grinned. The elation bubbled up in her chest, only a few more minutes then they’d be leaving.

“I never thought I’d be saying this but hurry up, Serena, we’re going to be late!” It wasn’t like Serena to be so last minute, but her hair had been a nightmare, not quite sitting right. After about two cans of hairspray (and a few burns from the curling tongs), she was happy.

Bernie was stood outside her door. She felt rather foolish in her dress, and had not attempted anything with her hair other than brush it out. She wished she was more talented at hair styling, but tight pins and elegant up dos weren’t really her style.

“I’m ready, one second!” was the harried reply, she obviously didn’t need the reminder that she was late.

The door flew open and Bernie stood there, open mouthed. She looked beautiful. The thought struck Bernie to the core. She’d always known Serena was attractive, especially to the boys, but she had never quite appreciated just how beautiful she was. She had envied Serena, mature and confident in her looks, and now Bernie knew that she looked completely inadequate next to her best friend.

She was wearing a strapless, sweetheart full-length dress. Perfectly fitted with a mermaid skirt, in a rich burgundy with stitching detail around the hem. Her hair was swept up onto the top of her head, accentuating her collarbones and neck. Her eyes sparkled and Bernie swallowed. She could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks, and a shiver ran down her spine.

“Bernie? Are you alright?” Serena questioned, concerned that she hadn’t actually spoken, or moved, since seeing Serena.

“Yes…yes, I’m fine,” she stammered. “You…you look, nice, no I mean, lovely. That colour really suits you.”

Serena frowned at her, Bernie was acting rather oddly, and was now fishing around in her dress, rather uncomfortably.

“Thank you, Bernie, so do you. Can I ask what on earth are you doing?”

Bernie soon returned to her usually mischievous grin as she pulled out a hip flask. “Here you go, McKinnie, you said smuggling in the alcohol was my job. And if I’m going to be suffering through this evening of socialising and dancing, I’m making sure the fruit punch has a bigger hit.”

She hid the flask back in her bra, she’d only got it out so she could look down and hide her face, which had coloured deeply after her stuttering compliment to Serena. She offered her arm to Serena, who grasped it tightly. She was rather unsteady on her heels, but looked down at Bernie with a smug expression.

"Finally I'm taller than you!"

Bernie chuckled, she herself was wearing low kitten heels because she did not want to add falling over to the list of things that could go wrong tonight. She would be busy enough worrying about Marcus and looking ridiculous on the dance floor.

She took a moment to really look at Serena, her eyes bright with excitement for the night ahead. Her dark hair was soft, the curls shining as the light caught them, her pale skin accented by a slight blush swept over her cheekbones. Bernie couldn't believe she had never noticed it before but her pulse quickened slightly.

She felt Serena squeeze her arm and blushed again, having been caught staring. Perhaps it was for the best that they were going to different universities , having a crush on your very straight friend could never end well.

She walked down the stairs in a daze. Did she have a crush on Serena? Surely, she was just appreciating how wonderful she looked. That's what friends do, right? Did she have bigger feelings for Serena? It wasn't a crush, not really. She'd had a crush, many in fact. They were all women completely unattainable, Mrs Jessop, the actress in Sophie’s Choice, she couldn’t remember the name. How did she feel about Serena?

She wasn't sure. She enjoyed spending time with her, felt a pull towards her from the moment they had sat out on the roof, perhaps even before then. She didn’t know what had made her reach out to her in the first place. She made her laugh, she would do anything for her. She had never had such close friendships in the past.

That must be it, she decided. I'm just confusing a very close friendship, not used to it. Even if it is something else, she definitely doesn't feel the same way back. And now is not the time to be having thoughts like this, Wolfe. Pull yourself together.

She was lost in thought and missed the last step, almost pulling Serena down with her. They managed to stay upright and Serena raised an eyebrow at her.

"I hope you've not started drinking already Wolfe." She laughed as she tucked a strand of Bernie’s hair back behind her ear. The touch left Bernie s skin burning and she gasped softly, covering it up with a chuckle.

"Of course not, you know me and heels never get on. Shall we?" She indicated towards where the girls were all gathered, getting ready for a photograph. They were ushered towards the front of the group and plastered on wide smiles as their head of year got the camera ready.

After that they all met the boys at the main entrance, and piled onto the bus that would be taking them into the venue.

Bernie could see Marcus, forcing a smile at Julie Granger who had obviously been his next choice. She ducked her head so he wouldn't see her and slipped in to the seat next to Serena.

The prom committee had done a great job, and there was a red carpet into the entrance. They were encouraged to enter in couples or small groups of friends and have an official photograph taken. Serena beamed at Bernie as they walked up the carpet and leaned in to her for the photo. Once inside they went straight to the tables for the meal. They chatted as a group, reminiscing about their time at school and excitedly speculating about what the future might hold for them.

Serena could tell Bernie had something on her mind and was doing her best to hide it; forcing smiles and laughing in the right places. She didn’t know whether it was her discomfort with the social situation, or something more. She had caught her staring a few times, but she quickly ducked her head and feigned interest in her food.

She tried to focus on the conversation, rather than worrying about Bernie.

“I mean, most women have a thing for men in uniform, isn’t that right Serena? And just think of all the nurses!” Serena bit her lip, Edward Campbell was loud mouthed and obnoxious, he thought he was God’s gift. She didn’t know him well, but he was also going to be studying medicine. The ‘work hard play harder’ reputation of medical students seemed to be the main reason he had applied. She was glad they’d almost finished dessert, so she could escape.

As the staff cleared the plates she caught Bernie’s eye, who looked pointedly at her glass. She nodded, it was impressive how Bernie seemed to read her mind. Bernie made a beeline for the drinks table and Serena was about to follow, when Edward cut her off.

“You know, it’s a shame. A beautiful girl like you not having a man on their arm, Serena,” he grinned and she could smell the alcohol on his breath as he leaned in closer, one hand slipping on to her waist. “Shall we dance?”

She leaned away from him and smiled. He had obviously had a few drinks before arriving, and she didn’t want to upset him. “No, thank you Edward. It was very nice of you to ask, though.”

Bernie watched the scene from across the room. Her stomach felt like it had coiled tightly, seeing Edward with his hands on Serena, she had a coquettish grin, tilting her head playfully. She had no right to feel like that, although she did wonder at Serena’s taste. Her blood had been boiling at some of the sexist, arrogant things he had said during the meal.

“Jealous?”

Marcus’ voice in her ear made her jump, she almost dropped the glass that was in her hand. The heat flared in her cheeks, how could he tell? If Marcus had worked it out so quickly, she was doomed. He would gossip and it would get round to Serena. She could imagine the whispers now. How pathetic, Bernie Wolfe, in love with her best friend, pining after her like a puppy.

Love? Is that what it is? Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, she thought to herself, the bile rising in her throat.

“Wha-, no, why would I be jealous?” she stammered, trying to keep cool. She gulped down her drink, knowing she’d already added a little something extra and wanting to take her mind off the nerves.

“She’s getting all the attention, every guy in our year fancies her. It must be hard, to live in her shadow.”

Bernie breathed a sigh of relief: he hadn’t noticed that Bernie had been jealous for a rather different reason. She shook her head.

“I don’t want the attention, I just don’t like the look of Edward.”

“Well, Serena certainly doesn’t seem to mind the attention.” He smirked before being pulled onto the dance floor by Julie, who did not seem impressed that he was talking to Bernie.

She sighed and made her way across to Serena with the drinks. As she got closer she saw that Serena’s expression was rather more strained than she had thought and she seemed relieved to see Bernie.

“Hey there Bernie, I was just telling Serena just how beautiful she looked, and that it would be such a waste for her to have got all dressed up and not have a man to dance with. Don’t you agree?”

Bernie stammered, not quite sure what to say, but Serena cut in. “And I was telling Edward that a woman doesn’t need a man, isn’t that right?”

She took the glass and smirked at Bernie who nodded, but before she had a chance to say anything Serena squealed.

“Oooooh I love this song, come on Bernie!” and she found herself being marched into the centre of the room, Serena throwing all kinds of shapes, just like the film. Bernie stood awkwardly, not quite sure what to do with herself. She shuffled from one foot to the other, vaguely in time to the music, and downed her second drink. Dutch courage.

She relaxed into the next song, reminded of a warm summer afternoon they’d spent in the park, tipsy and listening to Serena’s brand new radio.

“I think brown eyes are so much nicer than blue, don’t you?” Serena mused, taking a drag from the cigarette before passing it to Bernie.

“I’ve never really thought about it,” she admitted, glancing at Serena. “I guess they’re warm.”

“What’s your ideal girl like?”

“Hmm? I don’t know. I guess I’d be too scared to do anything about it if I met them.”

“Oh, come on, Bernie, you must have imagined it. Someone to settle down with, no?”

“I couldn’t, Serena. My parents would flip if they found out. And it’s definitely not allowed in the army.”

“What so you’re going to spend the rest of your life alone? I can’t imagine you just sleeping around, going from one girl to the next, leaving them broken hearted.”

Bernie sighed, it was something that ate her up inside, she didn’t know what was worse: the shame she felt because of who she was, or the twisting in her stomach every time she considered not being her true self. The guilt was ingrained into her by her parents saying people affected by AIDS deserved to die, sneering at anyone who seemed like a ‘queer’. But could she really deny herself happiness? She didn’t know.

“I guess I’d be fine, you know, settling with a guy. It wouldn’t be awful. If I was friends with them, I could learn to love them.”

Serena had looked at her in horror. “Bernie, you can’t do that! You’d be living a lie, I know it would be hard but times will change you know. People like your parents will become outdated, the army will be more accepting. You can’t lie. If a guy fell in love with you and you settled, it would all come out eventually. You can’t do that to someone else, Bernie. You just can’t.”

She was staring at Bernie intensely, she hated lying, always said it was the worst quality someone could have.

“You’re right, I know. Sorry,” she hung her head, tears threatening. “What if opinions don’t change, though? If people think I’m unnatural, a freak?”

Serena patted her hand. “I think if you find the right person, then none of it will matter. You’ll just want to be with them, and you couldn’t imagine life without them. You want to be with them more than anything else in the world and the hate will be nothing compared to that amazing lightness you feel in your chest. When you look at them, you won’t see anything that’s happening around you and you’ll want to make it work. You’ll want to shout it from the rooftops.”

Bernie honked, unable to keep a straight face. Serena turned to her indignantly.

“What?!”

“McKinnie! Are you drunk?!”

“I bloody hope so!”

“You’ve been watching too many films. Come on we’d better get back before your mum wonders where you are!”

Serena could see the faraway look in Bernie’s eyes as she almost subconsciously danced to the song. She was obviously deep in thought, not for the first time that night. Serena was concerned, normally Bernie told her everything, Serena was her one outlet for the emotions and troubles she usually kept bottled up.

“Ah, Serena, how about you be my very own brown eyed girl? You don’t mind, do you Bernie?”

Edward had cut between them, but Bernie barely noticed so Serena had no choice but to be whisked away by Edward. He wasn’t so bad, she supposed. He was rather attractive and not a bad dancer. She kept an eye on Bernie, who had been found by her hockey team and was dancing with them. Their eyes met and Serena rolled hers, indicating towards Edward, but all she received was a tight-lipped smile.

She pushed Edward away as the next song started. The memories of them dancing in her bedroom to this, Bernie tripping over a light, came to the front of her mind. The simplicity, pure joy, no cares in the world. Bernie found her across the dance floor, eyes alight and with no hint of the previous concern.

Bernie chuckled to herself at Serena posing with her hands on her hips. Her confidence radiated from her, she wasn't afraid of who was watching, she was perfectly happy and lost in the music. Her energy was infectious, and Bernie knew she would get caught up in it herself soon, despite being self-conscious. Looking around, she saw that no one was watching, and she started to move in time, when Serena grabbed her arm and span her round.

The shock made her stumble and Serena caught her, propping her back up and throwing her head back in laughter. They were dancing close together now, Bernie trying not to stand on anyone's toes as the crowd pressed in around them. She found the rhythm again and felt something lift from her shoulders.

She looked at Serena, this was how it was supposed to be; two friends dancing, laughing. Nothing complicated. The ease between them was something Bernie had never expected to find, growing up she'd been private, unwilling to open up to friends. She never would have thought she would find a friend in someone like Serena. Unlikely as it was, she wouldn't change it for the world, and she certainly wouldn't ruin it by muddying the waters with feelings.

The music changed to a song she didn't recognise, but Serena grinned and started singing. Bernie listened to the words, trying to pick them up so she could join in.

I travel the world and the seven seas. Everybody's looking for something.

She felt a lump rise in her throat. She always thought she would never look for love. If it found her then so be it, but she was scared of the consequences. She loved medicine and had a deep, burning desire to go to the army. Her father always said it was no place for a woman, that she wouldn't be able to have a family if she signed up. Her father's disappointment hurt but love wasn't something she needed to feel complete.

She would be travelling the world, hopefully. But was it in search of something? No, it was to run, from a family and a world where she never truly felt she belonged. Until now. In a world that hated her, well, what she was, there was Serena. Did Bernie need to travel the world to look for something? Or had she found it right here? Her thoughts were swimming, clouded by alcohol, and she didn't know what to do.

Edward cut between them for the second time that night and she scowled, but it was probably a blessing. She needed to go to the bathroom and clear her head, so she pointed in that general direction, hoping Serena wouldn't follow her.

Serena watched as Bernie slipped away to the toilets but she could tell by her expression she wanted to be alone. Bernie had never understood the 'girls going to the bathroom in packs' and so she let her go. Hopefully she would return with another drink for Serena.

Edward pressed close to her and she started to feel claustrophobic. He was by now incredibly drunk and was openly staring at her chest, a slightly lecherous grin on his face. She coughed and his eyes flicked up to her face, and she did her best unimpressed stare, one eyebrow arched threateningly. To his credit he apologised, but his eyes still wandered away from her own.

She sighed, wondering whether there was any guy out there that could appreciate a girl's looks without being so obsessed with sex. Someone who would compliment her for intelligence rather than beauty. She knew she was a flirt and could always charm a guy around to her way of thinking. She liked to be desirable as well. But no one had ever really caught her attention and if they did, she soon found they weren't interested in a girl with aspirations and a passion for medicine like she did.

She hoped things would be different at university, that there would be likeminded people who she could study with and socialise with. She had this big dream, meeting someone who would respect her, hold similar opinions but be different enough that they could have debates, putting the world to right over coffee or wine. A friend first and foremost, always there to listen. Caring, thoughtful, intelligent. Someone who felt like home.

She stopped suddenly as her train of thought came screeching to a halt. One word in her mind: Bernie.

Edward looked at her, concerned, but she shook her head and carried on dancing. Tried to carry on like nothing had happened, but her entire world felt like it had been spun on its axis. Hadn't she just described her best friend? The person she was going to miss the most when she left this school. The one she felt drawn to, who always knew how to cheer her up or calm her down when she was angry. She had other friends of course. But no one quite like Bernie.

And now they were going away, all they had was the summer. Bernie was going to the army and Serena wasn't stupid, she knew very few people stayed friends after school. Not long term. She was losing Bernie when she'd only just realised how much she meant. It would almost be easier if she had never realised.

She looked across the room, immediately picking out her tall, slim figure and messy curls that Serena always threatened to tame (but secretly loved). She was getting drinks and Serena excused herself from Edward’s company. His hand trailed down her back as she turned, but a sharp glare soon stopped him.

She sidled up beside Bernie, touching her arm gently in greeting.

“Serena, don’t feel like you have to come and keep me company. I’m sure you’d much rather be dancing with Edward.”

She could hear the bitterness in Bernie’s voice, was it jealousy?

“Don’t be silly, it’s not an obligation. I would much rather be with you than him. He’s barely looked at my face once tonight. Egotistical creep.”

“What, so you don’t….you know….like him?” Bernie visibly relaxed and her expression softened.

“No! Honestly, Bernie what’s going on?” her eyes dropped and she stammered before responding.

“I…I…I didn’t like the look of him. You could do so much better, tha- that’s all,” she glanced up at Serena through her fringe, her eyes wide with earnest.

She narrowed her eyes, not quite believing her. “Come on, let’s dance, you can show Edward how to dance with some respect,” she joked, but she saw a small change in Bernie’s expression again. A little tension, trepidation. It was gone as quickly as it appeared and Bernie nodded, following her back into the crowd.

“And this next one is for all those young couples, it’s your last day at school together. Grab your partner!” The DJ announced and Bernie paled.

“No, no, I can’t slow dance, Serena. Besides, what will people think?”

Serena looked around before fixing Bernie with a stare. “Look, loads of the girls are dancing together, we’re best friends. Everyone knows that, they won’t care at all. As for the slow dancing, I’ll lead, you follow.”

Bernie gulped and nodded, linking their hands. Serena marvelled at their softness, delicate and tender. Not roughly grabbing, just intertwined fingers slightly cooler than her own.

Babe I'm leavin' I must be on my way The time is drawing near My train is going I see it in your eyes The love, the need, the tears.

Her stomach coiled and tightened, her pulse racing. University beckoned, doors open with a promise of a fresh start for both of them. This was an opportunity. It didn’t matter what happened because if it went wrong, if Bernie didn’t feel the same, then they could leave. But those open doors would close quickly behind them and if she didn’t say something now then she would always wonder.

But I’ll be lonely without you And I’ll need your love to see me through So please believe me My heart is in your hands And I’ll be missing you

She sang the words softly, pulling Bernie fractionally closer so her mouth was close to her ear.

“I’m going to miss you so much Bernie. I mean it, I don’t know how I’ll get through university without you there as well. You’ll be having such a wonderful time and you’ll forget all about me. Please, promise me that you won’t be too scared, or ashamed. That if, no, when, you find someone you won’t let fear get in the way. I couldn’t bear to think of you unhappy, and I care about you so much,” she bit her lip, willing the tears to not spill onto her cheeks. As she was composing herself she heard a sob from Bernie and felt her pull away.

Somehow, she took away the warmth. Serena hadn’t noticed it but now they were apart there was a gaping hole and a chill in Serena’s core.

“I can’t do this, Serena, I’ve, I’ve got to go,” Bernie’s voice was close to breaking. She ran from the dancefloor before she had a chance to ask what was wrong. She was stunned.

“You know, I think this is the bit where you run after her,” Serena turned to see Sian right behind her. They were quite close, had been in the same class for most of their O levels.

“Sian, what are you talking about?”

“Serena, don’t be naïve. I can see you like each other. You’re both too stubborn to admit it though. And Bernie is definitely terrible at talking feelings. You’ll have to go after her. Make the first move!”

“I...I didn’t even realise it myself until about 20 minutes ago. How can I tell her, she probably doesn’t feel the same way back. And now somehow I’ve said something to upset her but I don’t know what-“

“Because she’s so bad a talking. Ask her about medicine, or feminism and she’ll natter for hours. As soon as you mention any feeling she clams up. Except to you. You need to get her to open up.”

Serena raised an eyebrow and smirked, “No offence but why on earth would I take advice from you?”

Sian grinned, “Hey, I may not want the whole childhood sweetheart thing for myself, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see it in other people. Apparently before they see it themselves.”

She winked and Serena flushed. If Sian was right and people thought Bernie liked her back…..

“I’ve got to go, thank you,” she wrapped Sian in a hug and made a beeline for the door. She hoped Bernie hadn’t gone too far.

Bernie sat against a tree in the grounds, the tears flowing down her face as she sipped the whisky straight from the flask. She didn’t care that her dress would be getting wet, she couldn’t feel the cool chill settling in the night air.

Serena’s words had hit her, punched straight through and left a gaping hole. How was it possible to feel this much, and yet be numb at the same time? The last few hours had passed Bernie in a daze, but in that moment, the two of them dancing, there had been a rush of sound. Time had stopped and Bernie had tried to commit each detail to memory: Serena’s delicate fragrance, her soft hands, the feel of her weight as they moved in time to the music, her sweet voice singing and harmonising with the music. That had been enough, for Bernie. She had decided that they could be friends, she would treasure that moment where nothing had mattered and they would carry on as normal.

But what had Serena meant? Her voice had been close to breaking when she said she cared about Bernie. It almost sounded like she was saying goodbye, sealing their friendship into a yearbook, a memory to be found many years later with a nostalgic smile.

Forget Serena? Not possible. Let fear get in the way of her own happiness? That was second nature.

She didn’t need to look up to know Serena was coming towards her. She stared at her knees, pretending not to notice, but Serena slid down next to her and lifted the flask from her hands, taking a swig.

“You probably don’t want to talk, but I do. As in, I want to say something to you, but you don’t have to respond. Is that okay?”

She nodded, not daring to meet her eyes. She didn’t know where this was going and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. But Serena had asked.

“I’m sorry for what I said, I don’t quite know which part of it upset you, but it did and that wasn’t what I intended. I’m…confused…no, that’s not the right word. I realised tonight that you are more than my best friend. I don’t know what that means for me, or for us. But I needed to tell you.”

Bernie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She stared, dumbfounded.

“If you don’t feel the same then that’s fine, like I said I couldn’t bear for you to be unhappy. I couldn’t go to uni not knowing. So, now you know.”

Bernie was still dumbstruck, unable to process what was happening. “You obviously don’t, I’ll- I’ll go,” Serena went to stand up and leave. Bernie’s brain finally caught up with what was happening, her thoughts having to wade through the alcohol, and she took Serena’s hand.

“No, wait. I…” she trailed off, she hadn’t got much further than this. All her brain had been screaming was don’t let her go. And now she didn’t know how to make her stay.

“I’m sorry I ran. You’re right, I was scared. Scared of ruining a friendship, because it felt like you were saying goodbye, because I couldn’t think of ever meeting anyone else that would make me happy. Scared of you forgetting me.”

Her voice was a whisper as if something inside was trying to stop her saying them. She pushed on regardless.

“I don’t want you to think that I’ve only been friends with you because…I mean, I only just realised it, maybe only just consciously admitted it to myself tonight. I’ve not been pining or…or…”

Serena cut her off with a low chuckle, wiping tears from her cheeks. “I don’t think that, at all.”

She glanced down at Serena’s lips, the emotion and alcohol encouraging her to lean forwards. She didn’t know what to expect. It wasn’t like the movies, where the kiss happens after months of wondering, building expectations in her head. She had never kissed anyone before, except for a dare in primary school.

It was tender, nervous, she could feel Serena’s hand shaking slightly against her cheek. They parted, both looking deep into the other’s eyes, searching for signs of regret. Bernie glanced around, but no one was nearby. She shuffled closer and tentatively placed her hand at the nape of Serena’s neck. A thought flitted through her mind.

What happens after this? After prom, after summer? Is this a reaction to the thought of losing a friend? Is it real?

She pushed the thought away, reminding herself to not be scared. This was real, this as what she wanted. She couldn’t deny herself with what ifs. Serena had told her to not let fear get in the way. Their lips met again, this time with more confidence.

Serena had been surprised at first, not expecting Bernie to express her feelings, certainly not expecting her to kiss her. But the moment their lips touched she knew it was right. She sounded cliché but she didn’t care, the softness and sweet taste were perfect. She’d enjoyed kissing guys in the past, but stubble could be irritating and comparing it with this. Maybe it was Bernie, maybe it was girls. Serena found she didn’t really care.

They stopped as Bernie shuddered from the cold. Serena stood and took Bernie’s hand.

“Do you want to go back inside? There’s still a bit of time before the bus takes us back to school.” Their parents would be collecting them the next day.

They made their way back inside and Bernie didn’t miss the questioning look from Sian, and the small thumbs up Serena gave in response.

“What was that about?” She whispered in her ear and Serena chuckled.

“Well apparently we weren’t the first to acknowledge there was something between us. She decided I needed a bit of encouragement. She’ll probably be gloating about playing cupid for a while yet.”

The tension had lifted from Bernie and she danced happily with the rest of the year, always close to Serena.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen it’s time for your last dance. I hope you’ve all had a great night!”

Bernie turned towards Serena and held out a hand. She grinned and took it, pulling them close together. They both sang, swaying from side to side. A peace settled over Bernie, once again living in the moment, but this time delighted that she didn’t have to commit it memory because she could live it, and many more like it, again. Hopefully.

Oh I want the truth to be said.

They weren’t ready for the truth to be released to the world. But they had told the truth to themselves, and each other. That was the most important part.

“What happens now, Bernie?”

Serena’s voice cut through her thoughts. It was the one niggling thought at the back of her mind, that she was ignoring because it was too hard to contemplate. That they had come together and would soon be parted, all too soon. It would have been hard, but that night’s events would make it even more unbearable. Was what she had to gain worth the inevitable pain and suffering further down the line? She grimaced, that was not the right mentality, but she was always preparing for the worst.

“I don’t know, but I can’t think straight. Too much alcohol, too many emotions. We have the summer. We’ll talk about it, work it out.”

Serena smiled contently, hugging Bernie a bit closer.

“You’re right, we can write, see each other in the holidays. What’s that thing Churchill said? Something about not looking too far ahead. I suppose I should take my own advice, not let fear get in the way,” she paused for a moment and then giggled. “It seems I can’t think straight, either.”

Bernie groaned at the pun and they settled into a comfortable silence, each pondering how they had reached this point. The night had seemed so short, yet at the same time getting ready had been a lifetime ago. Neither could have predicted what happened tonight but it felt familiar and looking back how could they have not known. Their presence in each other’s lives was vital, not to make them complete but to add a vibrant colour, a harmony to an already beautiful composition.

It is a mistake to look too far ahead. Only one link of the chain of destiny can be handled at a time – Winston Churchill.

Fin.

#fic #berena #berena au #prom

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radiantmists · 7 years

Text

countdown (chapter 11)

Summary: They get caught crawling outside the instructors lounge. Lance just wishes they’d gotten to Pidge first; a flight team should do everything together.

—

“There will be no negotiation,” Sendak says firmly. “You have forty-eight of your hours to turn over the prisoner and the Voltron Lion or face annihilation.”

(Flight Team Voltron might not do anything together for a while.)

first | previous

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T – 5:46:32

“Hello?”

Pidge spins toward the communicator. “Dad? You’re back!”

“Yes,” he confirms. Hunk, who like most of the people Shiro made take a shift sleeping looks much better than he did a few hours ago, catches their fearless leader’s eye and waves him over.

“Did the plan work?” Pidge asks eagerly.

Sam sighs. “Sort of,” he says. “The good news is, I did get into a drone.”

“That’s great,” says Shiro, taking the chair next to Hunk. “Why do I get the feeling that there’s bad news coming?”

“You always did have good instincts,” Dad says. “The bad news is that Lance got taken to the arena.”

“Oh, no,” says Hunk. Mentally, Pidge is employing much stronger language. If Shiro thought it was worth attacking his friend to keep him out of this arena, if whatever kind of hellhole it is lost him an arm, what is going to happen to Lance?

“Hopefully we can put our plan into action before he gets matched up,” Dad says.

“Right!” Pidge remembers, reaching over to the computer. “I’m sending you a virus that should take control over all the drones on the ship within a few minutes. You’ll just have to run it.”

“Okay!” Dad replies. “While it’s downloading, why don’t you tell me what’s been happening on your end?”

Shiro leans forward. “Well, to start with, your daughter staged a coup.”

Pidge yelps, “What!” while Dad says, “Really? I didn’t think leading was your thing, Katie.”

“It’s not,” she responds irritably. “Shiro’s telling it completely wrong. He’s the one who completely went off at Principal Iverson about how bad of a leader he is.”

“It was a really awesome speech,” Hunk adds. “Pidge’s was pretty cool too.”

Pidge shrugs. “I just suggested that Shiro would be better at leading, and everyone else agreed, because he would!”

“I agree,” Dad says, “but I hope you weren’t too harsh on poor Kent.”

Iverson has a first name? Well, obviously, but Dad is on a first-name basis with him?

“He’s got a temper—and not just the one he uses to scare cadets into line—and making enemies is never a good idea.”

“Yeah, Dad, I know,” Pidge grumbles. Fortunately, there’s no video link, so he can’t see the way she’s smiling. She never thought she’d miss his cheesy advice, but here she is.

At the same time, it does rub her the wrong way—they had to get rid of Iverson, or the whole operation would have crashed and burned. It doesn’t count as making an enemy if he was already a huge thorn in their side, right?

“So Shiro, you’re in charge now? Shouldn’t you be off running the place instead of talking to little old me?” asks Dad.

Shiro sighs. “Well, you are our best way to get through this, and our best source of information, so…”

“Okay,” Dad says, clearly switching into work mode. “What do you need to know?”

“The ship that just came and went—what were they doing?”

“Ah,” says Dad, not sounding especially grave. “That. Shiro, do you remember the Druids? They must have been the ones to make your arm.”

Shiro frowns. “I… I recognize the name, but I don’t remember what they are.”

“Wait,” says Pidge. “Aren’t druids, like, magician-priests or something?”

“It’s something of a mistranslation,” Dad admits.

Hunk sighs in relief. “Thank goodness—magic on top of all this would be too much. So they’re just priests? Or, if they built Shiro’s arm too, are they scientists?”

Pidge wouldn’t personally expect those two things to mix well. Then again, stranger things have happened.

“No, the magician part is correct. It’s the religious connotations that seem wrong.”

Pidge groans. Now they have to fight wizards. And on top of that, what if all the cool stuff the Galra had—laser arms, artificial intelligences, faster than light travel—were actually just magic? Talk about a letdown.

“Are you sure it’s not just a ‘sufficiently advanced technology’ thing?” Pidge asks desperately. Hunk, her fellow tech geek, looks understanding. Even they’re cavemen compared to the Galra, it would be better than people just breaking the physical laws of the universe without explanation or possibility of replication.

“That’s definitely possible,” Dad says, and Pidge sighs in relief. “They do seem to use scientific and magical terms fairly interchangeably.”

Scientific terms…

“Dad, in that first transmission, you said something about a ‘Colmar experiment’…”

“Yeah,” acknowledges Dad. “I was able to intercept transmissions coming into and out of this ship for a few weeks before it came to Earth, but I didn’t want to get caught, so I wasn’t broadcasting yet. Then, I caught a request from the Druids to conduct a trial of a machine they call the Colmar here. So I did some digging, and realized I had to put out a warning.”

“What is it?” Shiro asks. Pidge winces in sympathy. Until now, their main concern (other than the giant advanced warship) has been the danger of Voltron in Galra hands. But if there’s another superweapon to worry about…

“I’m not sure,” Dad says. “The records I intercepted uses a lot of terms that I’m not familiar with, but from what I understood… Galra technology and magic run on a substance called quintessence, which apparently exists everywhere to some degree, but is a crucial component of living things, especially sentient ones.”

“And the Colmar… extracts it?” Pidge guesses. “No, that can’t be right,” she realizes, “They already run on it, the technology to get it wouldn’t still be in the experimental stage, unless it’s some kind of improvement…”

“You could call it an improvement,” Dad says. “The Colmar extracts the quintessence from entire planets.”

Hunk looks horrified. “And all the things living on those planets…”

“Die.”

They absorb the implications of that for a moment. Before, when Sendak had threatened to annihilate the planet, Shiro had said they would blow it up, which was horrific enough. But this… Pidge imagines ten billion people keeling over where they stood, all movement ceasing, plants shriveling and drying—a planet of corpses. She shuddered.

“If you knew this,” said Shiro, sounding equally horrified, “if you knew that they were going to do this to Earth, why didn’t you say anything the last time?”

“I would have, but time was running out, and I thought I’d give you the hopeful news first,” Dad says. “And then I heard their ship was leaving, so it didn’t matter. They must have decided Earth wasn’t suitable for their experiment for some reason.”

“The paladins!” Shiro’s eyes are widening in realization. “Hunk and I overheard a conversation where they were telling Sendak to negotiate with human command to give up the paladins of Voltron.”

“There might be something different about us, or our… quint-whatever,” Hunk says.

“Something that would interfere with their results.”

“And now that Shiro’s in charge, and told Sendak to stick his threats where the sun don’t shine…”

“Did you really?” asks Dad, amused, while Shiro flushes.

“Pidge! I didn’t say anything like that.”

“Relax, it’s just a figure of speech.”

Shiro sighs. “Anyway, this makes sense,” he concludes. “Now that it’s too much of a hassle, they’ve decided to just… conduct the test somewhere else.”

It seems plausible, especially since the Galra have given the impression that humanity to them is just an unimportant fly that they’re trying to swat because it caught their attention. It’s not unbelievable that when Earth became too much effort, the Druids decided it wasn’t worth it.

Still… “Does anyone else feel like this is too good to be true?” Pidge asks.

“Yeah.” Hunk chews his lip, before his eyes abruptly widen. “Those things the ship left behind… what if they’re a Colmar?”

Silence.

“I mean, they might not be,” Hunk says. “It was just a crazy idea. Don’t believe it just because I said it.”

But it makes sense, Pidge realizes. Sendak’s ship had captured one of the lions, which seemed important; it would be going back to wherever the Galra headquarters was once this was over with anyway. The Druids wouldn’t lose anything by being on this ship instead, and in the meanwhile…

“Even if they didn’t manage to get all of us off the planet,” Pidge says, “they can conduct a control experiment on some other planet with sentient species—they have a whole empire, right? And I’m sure someone’s curious about what kind of effect we’d have on it. And if they see Voltron as a threat…”

“Then this will kill us as well as anything else,” Shiro finishes ominously. Hunk audibly gulps.

“Well,” says Dad. “On a happier note, the program you sent just installed, and is sending video feed from the thousand-odd drones and droids on this ship. I suppose we know now what system we’re targeting next?”

T – 4:03:29

Sleeping does wonders for Hunk’s mental fortitude.

In this improved state, he can really see how much of an effect the change in leadership had on the base. Of course, there are the former insomniacs like him who are actually getting constructive work done now.

Then there’s the group of hackers, who look nothing less than excited. Apparently they’re learning a lot about the Galra ship’s code just by hacking it. In the middle of them is Pidge, chattering over the comms to her father but also with the rest of the programmers, who seem to have forgotten the fact that she’s a child in the face of her incredible intellect. Hunk knows how fascinating it is to bounce ideas off of her ridiculous brain and learn from the ripples, and that was back when her attention was largely elsewhere.

Looking out the window, Hunk sees a group of soldiers talking near several loaded ATVs, and his stomach clenches. Simulations had indicated that the Galra fighter would land somewhere in the desert—likely, the Galra had traced either the Lion, Shiro’s pod, or the origin of the Garrison’s communications—and so Shiro had assembled several teams to be ready to intercept whoever landed once a more exact location was pinpointed.

Shiro had seemed confident that with a decent amount of soldiers, they could take out the Galra landing party without issue, but Hunk couldn’t dismiss the feeling that it wouldn’t be so simple.

Sour mood reinforced, Hunk turns back to his own project, which doesn’t exactly lift his spirits. The unidentifiable ships had settled into orbit around the planet, disintegrating several (unmanned, thank God) probes that had apparently been in their way. Whoever was flying them didn’t seem to mind photographs, though, and so Hunk’s job was to examine them, along with any information the hackers could find, and try to learn anything about how they worked.

Needless to say, it was slow going.

We could always just blow them up, Hunk thought to comfort himself, but it fell flat. Nobody had been putting any significant weapons in space since the Outer Space Treaty in 1967, at least not overtly. And anyway, the ships were in low enough orbit that a nuclear explosion would trigger an EMP—and while still preferable to the annihilation of the Earth, taking out a good chunk of the planet’s power was hardly the most comforting proposal.

He downloads the latest set of pictures from the ISS. (Hunk was collaborating directly with real astronauts. It was more than a little incredible.)

From a quick glance through the pictures, these aren’t going to be much more useful than the last set. Hunk checks over his shoulder, then switches screens.

There’s no point to it, really: the program will send both him and Pidge a notification if any of the humans they’re missing show up in the drones’ video feed. But there’s something comforting in watching it tick along, knowing that Lance will be found soon.

(It’s not that he doesn’t care about Keith or Parisot or any of the other soldiers. But worrying about Lance and Pidge, whoever’s currently in more trouble, has been so ingrained in Hunk over the last few months that it drowns out almost everything else.)

Wait.

Hunk pauses the flicking video feeds—the program will keep going—and scrolls back a few frames.

His first, disjointed thought, is that it’s no wonder the program didn’t recognize her face. Then the reality of what he’s seeing sinks in.

No. Nonononononononononononoholyshit…

Hunk slams the laptop shut and makes a run for the bathroom.

Somehow, he makes it to the sink before he heaves up what feels like everything he’s eaten for days. Flashes of hot and cold race through him, and it takes everything he has to keep his knees from giving out; he clutches the cool white sink like a lifeline, like the mothers he needs right now.

Hunk should have been expecting this. Once Sendak realized that Shiro wouldn’t give him what they wanted, there was no reason for them to keep Parisot around. But… maybe he’s naïve, maybe some part of him hasn’t processed that the Galra are evil, but he hadn’t been ready to see her dead, much less…

There’s nothing left to come up, but Hunk can’t help but retch anyway.

This time, he gives in to the shaking in his limbs; after turning on the faucet, he sits on the ground and just… breathes. The rushing water helps to calm him a little, bringing him away from the memory of that screen and back to his own body, to the cool tile under his legs, the dangling strap of his bandanna, the unpleasant smell of the room and taste in his mouth—and the footsteps growing progressively closer.

Hunk scrambles to his feet, brain kicking back into gear. He can’t go blurting this out to anyone he sees; it could seriously damage morale, especially as a rumor, so it would be better to let Shiro make a more formal announcement. He spits once and mourns the lost chance to wash his mouth out.

By the time the door opens, Hunk is washing his hands and wearing the most neutral expression he can manage.

“Hey there,” says Private Jenkins, heading straight for the sinks.

“Hi,” says Hunk. As he dries his hands, Jenkins splashes some water on his face, then examines his uniform in the mirror, brushing out creases.

“Just slept a shift,” he explains, “not that it feels like enough.” Turning toward Hunk, he smiles—which seems odd compared to how grumpy he’d acted earlier. Maybe he just needed sleep? “Of course, it’s still better than before. Shiro’s really taking care of us little guys, right?”

“Uh,” says Hunk. “Yeah, he is. He’s a good leader.”

Jenkins’s smile falters. “Yeah, though he’s no General Parisot.” It occurs to Hunk that quite a few of the soldiers here were from the general’s personal team. And maybe that made them less loyal to Iverson and more expectant of a competent leader— but if they find out Shiro’s decision led to Parisot’s death, they might turn on him just as quickly.

Shiro isn’t General Parisot, and that means he’s not going to hide information to safeguard his reputation. Soon after he knows, everyone else will, too.

Jenkins sighs and squares his shoulders. “But we work with what we’ve got, right? And this plan seems like it’s got a good chance of working.” He holds the door open. “Walk to the command center with me?”

“Yeah,” says Hunk, because talking about this is comforting. “Pidge is pretty sure she can get control over the whole ship, which means not only will it not destroy the Earth, but we’re going to get to study a ship capable of faster-than-light travel.”

Jenkins smiles again. “Wonder where they’re going to put it.”

Hunk’s stomach swoops.

“What?”

Jenkins looks over. “Oh, well, wherever it comes down, the local government’s going to be pretty nervous about it, right? Even if it’s technically on USF property—hey, maybe they’ll put it here in the desert and it’ll be like Area 51!”

“Maybe,” says Hunk, mind racing. “But we’ll need to talk to the government, right? And USF command. And they’ll want to speak to the officer in charge, and that’s….”

“Not supposed to be Shiro,” Jenkins realizes, and now his face is as grim as Hunk feels. “We need to go ask him what he’s planning to do.”

Maybe Shiro does have a plan for this, Hunk thinks. Hopes.

But judging by Shiro’s extremely brief deer-in-the-headlights look when they explain, he didn’t. “I’ll have to go talk to Iverson, ask him to negotiate for us,” he says.

Hunk bites his lip. “Are you sure that’s the best idea?” Shiro raises an eyebrow. “I mean, he seemed pretty angry when he stormed out. If we aren’t really careful, he’s not going to do what he needs to, and reminding him by shoving the person who took command in his face probably won’t help.”

Shiro’s mouth tightens, and Hunk abruptly remembers that Shiro hadn’t exactly taken command so much as Pidge and Hunk had dumped it on him. Shiro doesn’t seem unhappy with them about this, but Hunk can’t help but feel a little guilty—he certainly wouldn’t have wanted that kind of responsibility.

“I could talk to him,” says Jenkins. He looks vaguely pained, and Hunk supposes he understands; he wouldn’t exactly be happy if he had to volunteer to talk reason into Commander Iverson. Still, something about the expression rubs him the wrong way.

“He knows me, kind of, and he knows I’m very loyal to the general, so he knows I’m just trying to make sure everyone gets out of this alive.”

Hunk tries very hard to suppress a wince; he’s not sure if it works, but Jenkins and Shiro are looking at each other, so hopefully they don’t notice.

“…That would probably be best,” Shiro decides. “It might take a while, and we’ll want to be able to get our people back as soon as possible, so go talk to him right away.”

“Yes, sir!”

“You’ll need to be briefed on the size of the ship and so on—Hunk, take your laptop and do that on the way to Principal Iverson’s room.”

“Yes sir.”

Oh no. Hunk’s laptop will open to the drone feed from that room. Jenkins follows him to his desk, so Hunk picks the computer up and starts walking toward the exit before opening it, trying to figure out the most natural angle that still obscures the screen.

He’s not sure it works, but thankfully both for the plan and Hunk’s gastrointestinal integrity, the drone whose camera he’d been tapped into has moved away.

“Are those camera feeds?” Jenkins asks, catching up.

Hunk nods. “There’s a program scanning for any of our people up there—right now the only one we have contact with is Commander Holt, so…”

“That’s good,” Jenkins says, and his smile looks different now—more genuine, Hunk realizes, and red flags start to go off, because that means the others weren’t. “It’ll be good to know that everyone is okay. You were friends with the cadet flying that lion, right?”

“Yeah,” says Hunk. Knowing Lance is safe will be a weight off his mind-- maybe Jenkins was just strained before. Maybe. “Lance was my roommate, and he was me and Pidge’s pilot.”

“That Pidge girl is a genius,” Jenkins observes. “You are too, actually.”

Hunk blushes. “Thanks.”

“And this Lance managed to fly an alien ship into space on his first attempt at the controls. You three must be the stars of the Garrison.”

He can’t help a snort at that. “I wish. We were the worst flight team out of all the first years.” At Jenkins’ raised eyebrow, he adds, “Don’t tell Lance I said this, but the real star was Keith.”

“Keith?” Jenkins asks.

“Yeah,” Hunk says, reminded that the two probably never met. “He stowed away on the lion—he was always doing crazy things like that, he got kicked out during first quarter for assaulting an officer and then spent months in the desert looking for Shiro and found the caves where the lion was hidden. But he’s an incredible pilot. Probably even better than Shiro.”

“Wow.” Jenkins has that somewhat forced smile again, and Hunk starts to wonder if the guy maybe just has something against Shiro. Which is still not ideal, but if it’s just a personal problem that he’s actively trying to control, then maybe Hunk doesn’t need to worry too much about it. “So he’s the third cadet?”

“What?”

“Oh,” says Jenkins, and if Hunk wasn’t watching out of the corner of his eye, he’d have missed the brief darkening of the private’s face; as it is, he’s unable to identify it before Jenkins’s expression returns to casual interest. “Earlier, when they were talking about whether or not to hand over the paladins, Shiro said he wouldn’t endanger himself and three cadets. So that’s you and Lance, but a few of us were wondering who the third one was.”

Shiro was almost certainly talking about Pidge, Hunk knows. They’d lost contact with Keith before the lion vision came, but Pidge had taken them aside soon after they’d reached the Garrison and asked them, worried, if they’d seen it too. If Hunk had to guess the identity of the fifth paladin, it would be Keith. But he doesn’t know.

Hunk also doesn’t know whether Jenkins is plotting something underhanded, doesn’t know he’ll react badly to news of Parisot’s death, doesn’t know lying is the right choice. But he needs to make one.

And he needs to protect Pidge.

“Yeah,” Hunk says. “He was talking about Keith.”

T – 3:54:53

Speak of the devil and he shall appear has always been Keith’s least favorite phrase, because it’s infuriatingly accurate.

Case in point: it’s just occurred to him to wonder what cleans the ventilation ducts when a floating pyramid turns the corner.

He grabs his knife and lunges for the thing, even though it’s probably already too late, that circle in the front is definitely a camera, and green lights are coming to life around it—he should have been expecting this, the air is stale and processed but not dusty and considering the glee with which the Galra kill there are surprisingly few bloodstains— but maybe he can get it before it transmits—

“Hey, stop!”

After a moment, Keith does, because that is a friendly, human, familiar voice.

“Pidge?” he asks, squinting at the little machine.

“Yeah, it’s me, and can I just say it’s a pleasure to see your dumb face in one piece?”

Keith smiles. “It’s good to hear your voice,” he answers, because the last god-knows-how-many hours have been the absolute worst of his life, all the loneliness and helpless worry of the year Shiro was missing compressed down to less than a day with added backaches and nightmare fuel mixed in. (And actual nightmares. At some point, after getting as far from the scene of the murder as possible, he’d practically passed out from exhaustion, and then quickly regretted it.)

“Wait,” he realizes suddenly. “Last I heard, you were locked up? Is that still a thing? And how’d you get access to a Galra robot?”

“Wow,” comes the response. “It just dawned on me how behind you are.”

“I guess you’ll have to catch me up, then,” Keith says. He goes to sit back and bangs his head on the top of the vent; Pidge laughs again.

“Do you want to go somewhere more comfortable first?” she asks.

“I think this is the most comfortable I’m going to get on an enemy ship. A few lumps on the head are better than—” blood bubbling up his throat and choking his screams—“…getting caught,” he finishes, trying to shake the memory of a dream away, knowing his face must have changed and praying that Pidge won’t ask.

Thankfully, she seems too caught up in showing off to notice. “Well, good news—this little guy is just the tip of the iceberg. Every drone on the ship works for me now.”

“That’s…” really impressive, actually. “Wow.”

“Yes, I am a genius, thanks for noticing,” she responds, sounding a little distracted. “Okay, the little guy’s gonna take you to an empty room, and I’ll have some of the hominid drones guard the door, okay?”

“Sounds good,” Keith says, and crawls after the robot as it drifts away. He can’t wait to hear how she managed all this— and how she talked Iverson into letting her, for that matter. Hopefully, she’ll have some information about how Shiro’s doing that she can pass on, though if she’s still in the Garrison, that seems unlikely.

Then again, maybe with Keith gone, they’ll have captured Shiro and interrogated him, maybe even now he’s strapped to a table unconscious while they pull his arm apart—or conscious while they pick his mind apart, because there’s no time for trauma-based amnesia when aliens are attacking the earth, and this time Keith isn’t around to save him, or he’s too slow and too late or too weak, and he just watches as Shiro screams—

He bites his lip, fixing his eyes on the warm green glow of the robot’s lights against the side of the vent. Somehow, the worst of the nightmares were the ones where Keith wasn’t the one dying. Maybe it was because even when he woke up, he couldn’t tell himself they weren’t real.

Of course they’re not real, he reminded himself. No matter how suspicious Keith was of the Garrison, he knew they wouldn’t resort to torture.

(Of course, that wasn’t why the dreams scared him.)

Keith is so lost in thought that it takes him a moment to notice that his hand has landed on empty air. Then he’s pitching headfirst through an opening in the vent and all he can think when he sees the ground rushing at his face is that this is a pretty logical continuation of the trajectory of his life so far.

Then his reflexes take over and he twists, landing in a crouch on his hands and feet.

“Wow,” says Pidge from the robot. “You’re like a cat.”

“You couldn’t have warned me?” he yelps. It’s supposed to be an irritated bark, but his voice cracks midway.

Pidge snickers. “Actually, I did, you were just spaced out.”

There’s a long and terrible pause and then the sound of her pulling in a breath.

“No puns.”

“Puns? I am offended that you would suggest such a thing.” Keith almost decides she’s being serious when she adds, “I was about to engage in wordplay.”

“That’s not better,” he says, but admittedly both his irritation with her and his disgust for himself have faded somewhat. He stretches, looking around at the empty room Pidge found for him. It’s fairly bland: a desk and chair near one wall, the door on the other. There are no personal items or papers on the black metal desk, no decorations on the deep purple walls, and Keith wonders if the room is unused or if Galra are simply this spartan.

In any case, there’s nothing threatening or interesting here, so he turns back to the drone. “So what’s been happening on Earth?”

“Keith,” says someone that isn’t Pidge.

“Shiro!” Keith wonders what his face looks like; he tries to stay composed even as a knot of tension unties. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

(Understatement.)

“I’ve been so worried about you,” Shiro says. “How could you just up and stow away on the lion like that? We didn’t know where you were! I mean, it seemed like the kind of thing you would do, so we assumed you were somewhere up there, but… god, Keith.”

Keith feels like he’s been doused in cold water. Shiro’s voice sounds so strained, like he’s been carrying the weight of the world, and it’s because of Keith’s bad decisions. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t mean for you to worry.”

Shiro sighs, and Keith’s shoulders curl. “I know, but just… please, think before you jump into dangerous situations.”

I did that and it got Parisot killed, he almost blurts. But he can’t bring himself to do it, not when Shiro’s already this disappointed in him. Anyway, it all comes down to Keith’s rotten judgement regardless.

Instead, he says, “I’ll try.”

“Thank you.”

Biting his lip, Keith looks for a subject change. “So what—wait, Shiro, are you in the Garrison?”

“Yeah,” says Shiro. “After the lion was found, and then the Galra captured it, we decided we had to work together.”

“I’m surprised Principal Iverson could swallow his pride enough to admit it,” Keith snorts. Maybe he’s just biased because the principal had very vocally spouted the party line about pilot error, but Keith’s never liked him very much.

There’s a long pause from the drone.

“Guys?” Keith asks.

“Well, he was working with us, to some extent,” Shiro says, “until someone started a mutiny.”

“Wait, what?”

“You’re the one who ended up in charge,” Pidge protests. “And the one who called him out in front of the entire command center.”

Keith snorts. “And you lecture me about keeping my head down?”

“That’s different,” Shiro protests. “Iverson’s attitude was putting people in danger.” Keith opens his mouth to protest that he usually had good reasons for jumping into things too, but Shiro cuts him off. “And there was no way that telling Iverson off would get me killed.”

Deflating, Keith says, “Well, neither of us got killed in the end, so…”

“I’m glad.”

(At least someone is.)

“Anything else happen down there?”

The subject change works, to some extent—Pidge and Shiro trade off, their commentary oddly relaxing, telling him about how Commander Holt is somewhere on this ship that Keith hasn’t managed to wander past yet (“I think I remember the vent shafts being smaller where they keep prisoners”), how they lost contact with Lance (“Of course as soon as one of you idiots gets found the other goes missing”), how they’d hatched a plan to take over the entire ship (“Apparently it’s going well, though I couldn’t tell you”), how the Galra had been looking for paladins and preparing some experimental magic superweapon, but might have given up on either or both—

“I heard about that!”

“From who?” Pidge asks. “Is there some kind of vent-dweller gossip club?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Some of those Druids, and later… Sendak.”

Apparently the moment it takes Keith to choke the name past the lump of fear and self-loathing in his throat isn’t as suspicious as it felt. “Did they say anything helpful?”

Keith swallows nausea, tries to push his mind beyond gushing blood, back to the slightly-less-terrifying druids. “The druids… they mentioned casters that they’d chosen, and ships that Sendak prepared for them,” he recalls. “And they said they’d continue the experiment even without all the paladins, after they asked someone named… Haggar?”

“You can’t see it, but Shiro’s making a pretty nasty face right now, so I’m assuming this Haggar person is bad news.”

“Well,” Keith says, “she’s apparently not here, so we can worry about other bad news.”

“Like Sendak,” Pidge comments.

“Yeah,” Keith said. “And… his lieutenant, Axis or something? Sendak was telling him to prepare a landing party. I didn’t really get an impression of him, but if he’s someone Sendak trusts…”

This would be the perfect time to tell them about what happened to Parisot. But Keith remembers what Sendak had said—Now that you’ve outlived your use to me— and he knows that Shiro won’t blame Keith, because he’ll be too busy blaming himself, worrying if Sendak decided to kill the other hostages too—and Lance is missing—

“The lieutenant knows I’m a paladin,” Pidge says suddenly. “I think it’s him, anyway—some Galra close to Sendak saw my face when they mentioned visions.”

“So they know all the paladins except for Keith and Hunk,” Shiro observes. “Maybe we can take advantage of that somehow?”

“If they weren’t willing to destroy the Earth anyway, we could use it to stall, say we were still looking,” Pidge suggests, “but I didn’t get the sense that paladins were special except maybe with that quintessence.”

“And they pilot the lions,” Keith points out, suddenly feeling like an idiot for not pointing this out earlier. “I—"

“Yeah!” Pidge says.

“Did you try flying the blue lion?” asks Shiro.

“Yeah, it didn’t work for me,” Keith says, “I think each of us has a specific color, but—”

“I guess that makes sense,” muses Pidge. “Five lions, five paladins. Too bad, though, since this whole thing happened because the Galra are afraid of Voltron…”

“I think Sendak has my lion on this ship,” Keith cuts in finally.

“Seriously?”

“You remember how I said I could feel some sort of pull with the blue one?” he asks. “It’s like that, and if I concentrate hard enough, I can see it.”

“It’s actually really odd that you could feel the blue one, if you can’t even fly it,” Pidge muses. “I mean, as far as I know none of the rest of us felt it—I certainly didn’t. Then again, we were all in classes during the times when we lived around here, and you were just out in your cabin for a while, so maybe any of us could have felt it if we’d had more free time? This whole psychic link and quintessence thing is an incredibly interesting line of research…”

As Pidge chatters on, Shiro asks, “If you can feel it pulling, why haven’t you gotten to it yet? The ship isn’t that big, right?”

“It’s not,” Keith sighs, “but the pull, it’s like a compass, not a map, and these vents aren’t very direct. I think I’m on the right level of the ship at this point, but just finding shafts I could climb down was a mess.”

Shiro makes a sympathetic noise.

“If you need a map, I can probably pull one at this point,” Pidge comments.

“Can you find the lion?” Shiro asks.

“Yeah— I’ll use the radiation signature Hunk found, it should be much faster than with the faces, unless they’ve got thousands of sources. Hang tight.”

“So what do I do once I find it?” Keith perches on the desk to wait.

“Honestly?” Shiro responds. “Just cause trouble. If you can distract them enough that they don’t notice what our hackers are doing, that’s good enough.”

“What about the… Colmar? Maybe I can come to Earth and break it.”

“If we can take them over from the inside, that would be better,” Shiro tells him. “We’ll leave you for a last resort.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it be safer to just destroy them?”

“In the short term, yes,” Shiro answers. “But if we get out of this, humans will be a primitive race that hasn’t even sent anyone out of our star system spitting in the eye of the rulers of half the known universe.”

“They’re going to try and crush us,” Keith realizes, going cold. “This isn’t going to end until Earth is destroyed.”

“Or until the Galra are,” Shiro agrees. “We have to try and track down the other lions, find the resistance—overthrowing the Galra isn’t just the right thing to do, it’s the only way humanity survives.”

“And Voltron—us five paladins—we’re the key to that.”

“Yes,” says Shiro. “But the Colmar is an incredibly powerful weapon too. If scientists here can use whatever breathing room we buy to study it, study quintessence, study every piece of alien technology we can possible salvage…”

“Maybe we can defend ourselves.”

“Speaking of the power of science,” Pidge cuts in, “I’ve found two lions, I guess the red one’s yours, Keith?”

Keith nods.

“I realized I have no way to give you a map, so Rover here is going to take you there.”

“Really? Rover?”

“It’s cute,” Shiro defends.

“And it needed a name,” Pidge adds. “I gave this one limited AI so you can ask it to do things for you without me babysitting.”

“AI?” says Keith, uneasy.

“Limited, I said, don’t worry,” Pidge dismisses. “He’s the level of, like… a dog.”

“Hence Rover,” Keith realizes.

“Yup. Alright, go get your lion,” she says, and Rover floats back up to the vent. Keith drags the chair out from behind the desk and clambers in. “Huh, maybe I should have named it Lassie.”

T – 3:23:37

From the first time he stepped into a simulator, Shiro loved flying.

It wasn’t about the freedom of the open air, or some kind of ethereal peace. He didn’t take to it instinctually “like a duck to water”: just like every other recruit, Shiro had crashed his first run, his first ten runs. (Keith hadn’t, but by the time he stepped into a simulator, Shiro had already realized he was something special.)

Piloting was hard. He had to split his attention between dozens of sensors and gauges, calculate the risk of every tap on the thrusters and tilt of a wing. Peace and freedom were crushed under the pressure of the responsibility for the safety of his passengers, and instinctual reactions often had to be stifled in favor of careful calculation.

That first time, he’d fallen in love with the feeling of smallness, the way the strongest forces in the universe swirled around him like a hurricane, and the knowledge that with time and practice, he could take advantage of every one of those powerful forces to bring him exactly where he wanted to be.

Something about this—running a base, or maybe saving the world—felt just like that. Instead of sensors and passengers, he had the soldiers under his command; failing to control his instinctual response meant the destruction of morale, which would be every bit as disastrous as a collision. It was hard and stressful, and Shiro could tell he didn’t have enough experience. And just like with piloting, some part of him was in love.

This was made easier, of course, by the fact that everything was going well. They’d found Keith and Commander Holt and were on their way to finding Lance, Parisot, and the other USF soldiers, as well as a second Voltron lion; they’d figured out a good portion of the Galra’s plan of attack; and best of all, their own plan was on its way to completion.

From the other end of the room, Pidge whoops. Shiro walks over; people look up as he passes, in some cases nodding or even smiling in acknowledgement, and then get back to work.

“Shiro!” Pidge spins to face him, beaming. “We got into the flight computers!” The other comm techs look equally excited.

Shiro smiles. “That’s great, guys,” he says. “But remember, don’t let them know until we’ve disabled communications.”

“Yes, sir,” comes the chorus, of responses— Pidge gives him a clearly joking salute that makes Shiro suddenly miss Matt terribly.

He reminds himself that every moment gets them closer to bringing him home safe, and the thought is unusually buoying. Maybe because for once, it’s actually true. “I’m going to go make sure you all have somewhere to land our newest ship,” he tells them, and a cheer goes up among the group.

As Shiro leaves the room, the mood carries him forward like a wind in his sails, making every step feel light. Over the past year, he’s gone from pilot to prisoner to fugitive, and he’s finally at the helm again. There’s something so important about this feeling— not the power over others, but having control over his own actions. The Galra are still looming above them, but for the first time since he learned of their existence, Shiro doesn’t feel like a piece of debris batted around by forces beyond his control.

Winding his way through the halls, memories of his long time at the Garrison come flooding back. He’d first come here for a tour after his freshman year of high school, back when he was just another kid who thought space was cool. At first, it had been intimidating, but then they’d let them into the simulator room. Shiro glances in as he passes, and the memory hits like a freight train. Iverson had snorted as he’d staggered out of the pod, head still spinning with nausea and excitement, and called Shiro’s efforts pathetic before moving on to the next student. When Shiro had come back a year later, having graduated early and become the youngest ever student at the Garrison, Iverson hadn’t remembered him.

Throughout his time at the school, Shiro had somehow managed to win the hearts of most of his professors, despite—or perhaps because of—his awkward social skills and feelings of inadequacy. But the Principal had been a largely distant figure; Shiro rarely earned the energetic scoldings the man was infamous for, and thus rarely interacted with him at all. But he’d always been there, and in the back of his mind, Shiro had always been determined to prove him wrong. And he had.

As he turns the corner, he’s surprised to see Private Jenkins outside the door of the meeting room, though the man doesn’t seem surprised by Shiro’s appearance.

“Aren’t you supposed to be talking with Commander Iverson?”

“I did,” Jenkins says, smiling. Despite the initial impression of grumpiness he’d made, he seems to smile a lot, almost enough to make Shiro feel uncomfortable. “He and the cadet are inside working out the details, I’d just stepped out to go to the restroom.”

“Ah,” Shiro responds, trying not to show how silly he feels for coming when everything is going just fine. “Will it disturb them if I go in?”

“No,” shrugs Jenkins. “They’re not on the phone with anyone right now.” He gestures at the door.

Shiro nods, then steps forward, opening the door, mentally ticking another item off the list—he’ll head out with the soldiers after this and confront the Galra landing party, and then—

He has just enough time to see Iverson nod, and then there’s a sharp jab to his neck and nothing more.

#voltron #vld #vld fic #shiro #keith #pidge #hunk garrett #writing #countdown #my writing

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