#for everyone to mock and berate as they please. I’m fucking sick of it.

[flippedorbit]

[solaneceae]

EGOTOBER DAY 6 - Coffee

Henrik knew from the get-go that this was going to be a shitty day.

Now, today was supposed to be his first off day in… months? Years? He wasn’t sure. He’d been against it of course, but his insufferable colleagues kept pestering him about “healthy work balance” and “self-care” and other nonsense of the same caliber. It had gotten to such a degree that even his boss had stepped in, basically ordering him -Schneep didn’t take no orders from no-one, thank you very much- to take a week off.

“I have some patients in the west wing that look healthier than you do right now, Henrik.” his boss had said. He’d then taken a long look at the ego’s face and shaken his head. “Scratch that, all of them do. I don’t need one of my best doctors to burn out on me, do you understand?”

So now here he was, slowly waking up in his room back home, with nothing to look forward to.  Schneep sighed and draped an arm over his eyes, blocking off the light coming from the slits between his blinds. He could faintly hear Chase’s laughter coming from downstairs, as well as Robbie’s delighted cries; they were probably playing a game of sorts. That was odd. Those two weren’t usually up so earl-

Wait a minute.

He jerked his arm off his face, a sense of urgency rushing through him. His bedroom was too bright, his body too heavy with the remnants of sleep, his bed too warm. What time- 

The German clumsily fished out his phone from under his pillow and unlocked it, wincing at the harsh light of the screen. His jaw dropped.

“11AM?! Mist!”

This couldn’t be happening. This shouldn’t be happening, his phone always woke him up at 6AM sharp, every single day. But as he opened the clock app, he realized his trusty alarm was… gone. Not even turned off, just straight up missing. 

He was pretty sure he’d remember deleting it -not that he ever would. Was this some sort of glitch…?

His face twisted in rage as he realized. This motherfucker.

The little shit was gonna get an earful when Henrik found him. The doctor threw the covers off of him and jumped out of bed -ouch, his head pounded at the sudden movement. Note to self, get some ibuprofen before going downstairs.

He couldn’t believe he’d just slept for twelve hours. This would not stand; he couldn’t just laze around all day, he’d go insane. He was a man of action, god dammit! Staying idle wasn’t an option, not in a million years. God, to think he had a week left of this nonsense. His coworkers hadn’t even let him bring his files, what was he supposed to do?!

The voices coming from under him grabbed his attention again, planting an idea in his mind: it had been a while since he’d put his siblings through a proper medical checkup. Perhaps they were overdue for one. A neurotic smile grew on his face as he started to frantically put on some clothes, despite the floor slightly rocking beneath his feet. Yes, he needed to make sure everyone was healthy, update their medical files, and check if Jackie’s ribs were still healing properly from his latest scuffle, and after that he could reorganize his office downstairs -something he’d be putting off for a while- and, and, and-

 ***

 “Gunten tag, Marvin. How have you been lately?”

The magician squirmed in his seat, looking around Henrik’s office with an aggravated expression. “Can’t we postpone this? I have a show to prep for this evening…” “I assure you, this won’t take long. I’ve haven’t been home as much these last few weeks, I figured it was time for a check-up.” “You did one last month-” “How’re your burns? Do you change your bandages every day?”

The green-haired magician frowned under his mask; his brother wasn’t listening, and he was usually the one pestering the rest of them about communication and honesty. Something wasn’t right. “... yeah. And I’m taking a break from potion making until they’re healed, like you told me to.”

The German nodded, scribbling something in his grey notebook. “Gud. I appreciate the basement not blowing up every other day.” “Oh come on, you’re exaggerating,” Marvin protested, straightening up in his chair, “My potions don’t explode, they’re just… feisty.” “Right, right. Of course.” the doctor mumbled dismissively, still not tearing his eyes away from the papers on his desk.

The masked man blinked. Okay, something was definitely up; Schneep would never miss an opportunity to berate him about the “dangerous and volatile experiments” of his. And was it the lighting in the room or did his counterpart seem a little paler than normal? “Hey, doc… is something wrong? You’re being less of an ass that usual.”

Henrik stopped writing, looking up at his patient. He pursed his lips in annoyance. “First of all, I take offense to that. Und nothing’s wrong.” he stated before taking a sip of his morning coffee -or afternoon coffee? His inner clock was all over the place today.

The magician tilted his head, doubtful. Maybe he should ask Anti to keep an eye on the older ego, just in case. Be useful for once. “If you’re sure… are we done here? I asked Yan to give me a ride downtown, they should pick me up in a few.”

Schneep’s grey eyes squinted in confusion. Yan? As in, the red-haired Iplier that dressed like a japanese schoolgirl? “He has his licence?” “They,” Marv emphasized, “don’t. They drive a bike, and yes I’ll wear a helmet, stars.” The German nodded. “They, my apologies. I didn’t know you two were acquainted.”

Marvin fiddled with the hem of his cape, averting his gaze. “We- it’s a recent thing. I know you and the glitch bitch don’t like us hanging out with the Ipliers, but Robbie introduced us and-” “Robbie?!”

He stopped. Henrik was staring at him, dumbfounded. That’s when Marvin realized he’d just, as Anti would say, fucked up. “...shit. He didn’t tell you, did he.” “Tell me what? That he’s been hanging out with the Ipliers behind my back?! They’re dangerous!” “You hang out with their doctor all the time! How is this any different?”

Schneep grit his teeth at the mention of his friend and colleague, and pushed back the unwanted thoughts. “We work together, und he’s a sensible person who doesn’t stab people left and right!”

Marvin bristled, hands clutching the fabric of his pants “Yan doesn’t-”

The doctor interrupted him, raising his hands in a placating manner. “I- look, I’m sorry I snapped, okay? I don’t know them, not like you seem to do, so it’s not my place to judge.” He sighted, something soft crossing his features. “I know you can handle yourself, Marv, so if you want to make friends with Dark’s family, I sure as hell ain’t gonna stop you, that would be hypocritical of me. But Robbie is-”

“What? An idiot? Clueless? Is that what you think?”

Schneep growled, massaging his temples. That stupid headache was coming back. “Don’t put words in my mouth. Robbie is far from stupid, but he’s not like the rest of us, you know that. He’s… innocent. I just don’t want him to get hurt.”

A pregnant pause. The magician fell back in his chair, shaking his head. “Hen… he’s not a child, even if you and Chase and… pretty much everyone here thinks of him that way. If you think he’s too naive to make his own decisions, then you might not know him as well as you think you do.”

Henrik chuckled bitterly. “Not as much as you do apparently, if he didn’t trust me enough to tell me himself.”

“He does trust you… but he also knows how protective of us you are. Maybe he thought you wouldn’t let him see them if you found out.” Marvin shrugged. “And from your reaction just now, I can see why he would.”

The doctor groaned; god dammit, this wasn’t how he had planned to spend his day. Looked like he and the zombie were due for a talk. “Does Anti know about this?”

His patient laughed. “Hell no, he’d throw a hissy fit if he found out. That guy goes full-on when it comes to Rob. Honestly, I think you and me are the only ones in the know for now.”

Henrik hummed and closed his notebook, signaling the end of the consultation. “I suppose. You can leave now, send in Anti next please. Und tell Robbie to come see me when I’ll be done with the rest of you.” “You’re not gonna lecture him too, are you?”

He shook his head, peering into his now empty mug. He needed more coffee. “If he truly understands what he’s getting into, then I won’t have a say on the matter. But I need to hear it from him.”

“Sounds reasonable enough.” the magician breathed out, standing back up. “He should still be with Chase, I’ll tell him to drop by later.” he smirked, adjusting his mask over his face.  “God, you’re such a mother Hen.”

“Get out of my office before I tranq you.”

 ***

 “You look like shit.” “Blunt as always I see.”

Anti smirked. The demon sat crossed-legged on the chair, like the bringer of chaos he was. “I’m just stating a fact, doc. And the fact is, you look like crap.”

“I didn’t summon you here to hear you critique my appearance. And I definitely don’t appreciate you messing with my phone. Why would you even do that?”

The green-haired glitch shrugged. “Thought it’d be funny.” “It really wasn’t.” “Never said it’d be funny to you...”

The German rolled his eyes. “This conversation has no purpose, I say we move on. How’s your neck wound?”

“Same as ever, only bleeds when I overuse my powers. But you know that already. Is there a point to this, or are you just finding excuses to keep busy?”

Henrik growled in frustration, resting his head in his clammy palms; he didn’t have the energy to deal with the glitch’s taunts right now. His arms were shaking from all the caffeine he’s been inhaling for the past hour, his head wouldn’t stop pounding and gottverdammnt, was it always this hot in this madhouse?!

He looked back up and jumped back with a startled yelp; Anti had glitched onto his desk, his face only a few inches away from his. His mocking grin was gone, replaced with an unusually serious expression. He squinted, something akin to concern flashing in his acid green eyes. “... you really are sick, aren’t you. Did you even eat today?” “I’m fine.” “Stop it. I fucking hate it when you lie.” “I’m not!”

The glitch huffed at the other’s stubbornness. “Whatever. It’s your funeral.”

 ***

 “... barely even hurts anymore, and- uh, Hen? You sure you’re okay? You don’t look so hot…”

Henrik blinked sluggishly at the blurry red figure in front of him; he didn’t remember Jackie coming in. He ran a shaky hand through his hair; it was damp and stuck to his forehead.

Had he asked Anti to send the hero in? Now that he thought about it, he didn’t remember Anti leaving his office either. Also, he felt like throwing up. That was concerning.

He mumbled something, not noticing he had reverted back into his mother tongue. Jackie’s concerned face kept sliding out of view, everything was spinning out of his control.

“Wh- dude, I can’t understand you and frankly, you’re starting to freak me out.”

He tried to stand; he needed to get out, get out of his stuffy office and maybe stand in the cold rain for a while, get rid of this suffocating heat and his sudden nausea-

The world tilted on its axis, and next time he blinked, he was on the floor. Huh. It was more comfortable than he expected it to be.

“Sh- Hen?! What... ...rik! Can… me? Guys, I… help!”

The rooms spinned faster and faster as he felt his eyes roll back into his head. And then he felt nothing at all.

 ***

 Everything hurts.

His limbs feel like lead and it’s like his ears are filled with cotton. He can vaguely make out the muffled voices of his family, and a quiet sob coming from somewhere in his right.

Schneep lets out a pained croak; his mouth tastes like iron. Shit, he must’ve bit his tongue when he collapsed.

“Oh shit, he’s coming back!” “Sshhhh, it’s okay Robbie, don’t cry… Henrik? Hen, can you hear us?” “Hey, doc? Blink twice if you’re not dead.”

“Verpiss dich.” he groans. His whole world is burning, something is definitely trying to claw its way out of his skull, and he wants it to stop.

Someone snorts; he can’t tell who, his mind isn’t working right. “I think he just insulted me, so he’s fine.”

He forces his eyes open -jesus, everything looks like an oversaturated blob right now- pushing on his trembling arms in an attempt to sit up.

“Oh no you don’t.” an authoritative voice snarls at him.

He feels something touch his face; his vision sharpens and for a second, he sees Marvin staring down at him, two fingers pressed against his damp forehead. The magician smiles. “This is for all the times you tranqued me.”

“What are you-” “Sleep.”

And he does.

 ***

 The second time he woke proved to be the right one.

Well, he still felt like shit overall. But the splitting pain in his skull had faded to a dull throb, and the smoldering heat to a bearable warmth. Progress.

His eyes fluttered open, taking in the familiar decor of his own bedroom. His night light seemed to be set on the lowest intensity, sparing his eyes and his head. It was dark outside.

“Oh thank fuck, you’re back. We were gonna take you to the ER if you didn’t wake up before dawn.”

Henrik twisted his neck to look at his left; Chase was sitting next to his bed, his shoulders dropping in apparent relief. The doctor propped himself up against the wall behind him -oh good, he could move without the room going all merry-go-round on him, hurray- and opened his mouth, but all that came out was a broken croak; gott, his throat and mouth were dry as a desert. Thankfully, Chase seemed to notice his woes and produced a water bottle from the foot of the bed, holding it out to his brother. “Here. Figured you’d want this, your fever only broke an hour ago.”

The German gratefully took the offering and greedily drained it, the cool liquid soothing his sore throat. He didn’t stop until the bottle was crushed, and he took a starved gulp of air. “D-Danke. What time is it?”

“Eh, about 3AM. So if I remember my third-grade math right, you’ve been out for about twelve hours.” “Jesus.” “Yup. You scared the shit out of us.”

Schneep sighed, propping the empty bottle on his nightstand. “I know. I’m sorry. Where are the others?” “Downstairs. Robbie fell asleep, but everyone else is awake and waiting for news.” “Everyone…?” “Yeah. Well, everyone but Anti, but that was to be expected, he gets elusive when there’s too many of us around. Jackie stayed home for the night to make sure you’d be okay, and Marv canceled his show.”

Henrik groaned, his face heating up in shame. “Dammit.” Then he remembered the sensation of cool fingers on his forehead, and two slitted green eyes pulling him into the darkness. “Wait. Did Marv seriously knock me out with magic?!”

Chase grimaced. “Yeah, he won’t be sorry about that one. Plus you kinda needed it.” “Hmpf.” “I’ll let them know you’re up. But first…”

The vlogger grabbed his chair and plopped down on hit, his arms and head resting on top of the backseat. “You’re going to tell me what’s going on with you.”

Henrik averted his gaze, staring at the ceiling. It could use a fresh paint job, he thought. “Nothing.”

“We both know that’s bullshit. I’m not a literal lie detector like Anti, but I can tell when you’re hiding something.” Chase waved at his friend’s prone body. “I mean for God’s sake, just look at yourself! You’ve been running yourself ragged for weeks now, and you won’t tell any of us anything! I don’t care why you thought you could let it go so far, but as soon as it starts affecting your health then it becomes our problem too!”

The vlogger was glaring daggers into him. Chase didn’t get angry often, so whenever he did, that was a pretty clear sign that you’d messed up. Big time. Henrik let out a trembling breath, covering his eyes; what an absolute disaster.

“Remember when I passed out in the kitchen that one time?”

The German turned to look at his brother, disconcerted by the sudden change in topic. The vlogger was clutching the wooden chair, head bowed, his eyes hidden in the shadow of his iconic cap. The off-white scars on his arms were peeking out of his sleeves.

“Robbie hadn’t slept well that night. He always had good instincts. So he came downstairs early in the morning to get some warm milk, and he almost tripped on my unconscious body. Remember that?”

Henrik cringed; he did. And he was starting to understand what Chase trying to convey.

“Now,” his brother continued, “I wasn’t awake to witness that. Not the way he wailed loud enough to wake up the entire house, nor the look on his face when he ran to you for help. But…” 

He pointed at Henrik. “You’ve told me about all this. Several times, in great detail, every time you thought I was about to relapse. Which I didn’t, not since that day, because what you described was too heart-wrenching to even consider. And it was all second-hand knowledge, you know? Like I said, I didn’t experience it. But today? I was the one Robbie ran to, weeping about how you’d stopped moving. And, well…”

He chuckled, rubbing his face. It was devoid of mirth. “Let’s just say I’d rather cut off my own arm than see that look on his face ever again. So, you’re going to tell me why you’ve been destroying yourself, and I might consider not kicking your ass when you’re back on your feet again.”

Silence.

Henrik sighed. He was cornered. “...Okay, fine. But you will keep it to yourself, klar?”

Chase shrugged. “Unless hiding it would put us in danger, then I see no reason not to.”

Henrik rolled his head on the pillow, gazing up at the ceiling once more. He braced himself -c’mon, it’s Chase, you can trust him with this- then took a deep breath.  “I’ve been… conflicted. About something.”

Chase nodded, urging him to continue. That was a good start.

“I didn’t want to think about it, but it just kept looping in my mind, over and over. So I tried to keep busy, to make the thoughts go away.” “That one’s a given. So what’s been eating you? Did something happen? Do I need to punch someone?”

Henrik snorted. He knew that Chase was being completely serious, that he cared about him enough to kick someone’s ass on his behalf. Not going to lie, it felt nice. “Please don’t, none of this is his fault.”

The vlogger squinted. So this was about a guy.

“I’m just… I’m being stupid about it, okay? It probably didn’t mean anything and here I am overthinking it.” the German rambled; the floodgates had opened, words spilling out with less and less restraint. “Verdammt. I don’t know what happened. Everything was normal up until now, but then I started getting those weird signals and they might not even be signals at all and I maybe I’m reading him all wrong-”

“Dude, stop, I get it. You got a crush on Edward.”

Henrik choked on his words. He craned his neck so fast he felt it crack -gross- and stared wide-eyes at his sibling; there wasn’t the faintest trace of surprise on his face. Only calm understanding. Scheiße, was it that obvious?!

Chase seemed to somehow hear his thoughts, offering him a patient smile. “Dude, I’ve seen it all before. Heck, I’ve been there. Plus I know he walked you home a while ago, and it matches with when you started acting weird.”

The bedridden ego let out a huff. “What are you, a detective?” “Worse than that, I’m a father. I notice stuff.”

There was a moment of silence, as Schneep visibly struggling to find the right words, running his fingers through his mop of brown and grey hair. 

“I just… I’ve known him for so long. We’ve been working in the same clinic almost every day for years, so why now? What changed?”

Chase shrugged. “Hell if I know. Sometimes this stuff just… happens, y’know? There’s no grand rhyme or reason behind it, it just is. You only get to choose how to deal with it.”

The fatherly ego got off the chair to sit on Schneep’s bedside. “And, yeah, that’s where you’ve been messing up lately. I ain't gonna tell you how to live your life, but you need to stop running away from this. It’ll only get worse the longer you ignore it.” He sighted. “Christ dude. For all your talk about feelings and shit, you suck when it comes to your own.”

“I suppose.” the German mumbled. “Again, I’m sorry I scared you all. I really am.” “Well… if you promise us to never do that again then I guess I can forgive ya.” the vlogger winked and got up, stretching and cracking his joints. “Why don’tcha think on this for now, and I’ll go tell the others you didn’t slip into a coma or something. ...buuut before I do, I kinda have a confession to make.”

He scratched at the back of his head, smiling sheepishly. “I’m the one who asked Anti to get rid of your alarm. So don’t be mad at him for that.”

Schneep’s jaw dropped, shock written all across his features. “Was? That was your idea? But- why?!” “Look, I was just really worried, and it was your first day off in god-knows how long, I wanted you to get some rest!” “I swear- wait. Anti listened?” “He’s been… cooperative lately. I know, crazy right?” “Cooperating to make my life a living hell. You’ll be the death of me, all of you.”

Chase laughed. “We love you too, ya goof.”

-------

*mcfricking dies* NINE. FREAKING. PAGES.

why are those things getting longer and longer. someone please stop me.

@tabbynerdicat @egopocalypse​ @humblecacti​ @lilakennedy​ (Vati time)

[littlewolf651]

The King and the Sorcerer Part 1

My friend @jojosiewa created an AU based on MC Youtubers and She-Ra, and I love it to death. She talks about it only on her discord server tho so you’d probably wanna go join it for more details there.

Point is tho in the story the climax was that Seto would eventually get corrupted by dark magic and take over the castle from the current king Taylor (AntVenom) and through a ton of talking about it, we started shipping Seto and Ant together, and here we are. I have a part 2 planned as well that's fluffier than this one, I promise.

Most important things to know; 

Adam is a prince, he found a sword that can turn into the hero Skybrine, no one else knows, had a big fight with his brother Ant and left to sulk and now Seto is corrupted.

---

Taylor was sure his arm was broken. In the very least, his wrist was. The pain was blooming from his left wrist quickly as he clutched his wrist close. He'd used it to deflect falling debris his attacker had cast at him.

He hadn't expected an attack on his castle like this from within and certainly not from him.

The debris from the ceiling that had landed on him suddenly glowed a dark purple and was cast aside into the throne room walls, sending up another cloud of dust that Taylor had trouble breathing.

The dust in the room seemed to almost part as Seto walked towards Taylor. His warm brown eyes were gone, replaced by entirely black eyes as dark and cold as the void. His tanned skin was pale and branded with hundreds of black magic tattoos along his cheeks, neck, chest and arms. It made Taylor at first doubt it was even Seto attacking him. But his clothing, his magic and the red creeper amulet Taylor had given him when he'd first came to the castle were so distinct Taylor couldn't deny it.

Seto was here. Turned against the kingdom, against his family, his home, all in the name of this dark magic.

He remembered warning Seto against it at first. Seto had insisted on trying it out to try and help Taylor's dad with his sickness. Taylor had pleaded, even begged Seto not to try it. It was too dangerous, he didn't want Seto to get hurt. But then he had to become the standing king for the kingdom, spending less and less time with Seto until he often went days or even weeks without being able to see him. He'd argued it was for the good of the kingdom but, was it really worth it?

"Well isn't this a sight to see?" Seto's voice sounded musical like he had just been told a hilarious joke and couldn't wait to share it "A mighty king cowering before his servant. You know I never understood it when people said a king was a servant to his people. Though maybe now I'm finally starting to understand that." he grinned at Taylor, getting well in the other's face as his hands glowed with dark power.

"What's wrong, your highness?" His voice was mocking "Shocked to see an old friend looking so different? I mean, last time you saw me was what? Three weeks ago? Time sure flies when you abandon your friends and family, huh?"

"Seto…" Taylor coughed "H… How did this happen to you?"

Seto pulled back and laughed "It's funny how you only seem to start caring when it starts involving you, isn't it? I can't believe I spent nights dreaming of you, how pathetic of me."

Taylor blinked at Seto, he started to speak but was cut off again by the sorcerer. "But that's all in the past the old me is gone along with all that miserable sentiment. Now then," he held out his hand "I'll have your crown now."

Taylor narrowed his eyes "No, I'm still king of this land, and I will never relinquish it to-" he gave a startled yelp when he was suddenly encased in purple magic and dragged closer to Seto.

Seto calmly took the gold and amethyst crown from the king's head "You're the king of a dying era." He mused, placing the crown upon his head "An era that will be erased from existence starting with you."

Seto's hand stopped glowing and let Taylor fall back onto the floor with a cry.

'That's it, Seto.' Voices cooed softly into the corrupted sorcerer's mind 'Show him no mercy. Kill him.'

Seto's hand wavered at that as he looked at Taylor with dim, narrow eyes. Kill? Did he really have to go that far? Was that really necessary? Did he even want to?

Taylor very slowly got to his feet when Seto didn't seem to react to him moving.

Seto's eyes did look at him when the other started to walk closer "Seto, please. This isn't the Seto I know. The Seto I know, is quiet but kind. He's sarcastic, but he's always there to help people that need it."

"Shut. up." Seto's smile was very much gone now.

"Hell, for a time, I almost thought you were Skybrine." He gave a weak smile, still holding is wrist close to his chest. "You're a good person Seto. I care about you. You're one of my closest friends."

"I said Shut Up!"

"Seto Please" Taylor was practically face to face with Seto now, close enough to see each individual magic tattoo over his exposed skin "You're even more than just a friend to me. You're-"

"ENOUGH!" Taylor got thrown back into the wall by another blast of magic from the other, leaving him lying against the wall and weakly trying to sit up with his good arm.

Seto walked up, and his hand glowed with dark purple magic, forcefully lifting Taylor up into the air and his back against the wall "I spent weeks alone and ignored by you! Weeks crying over you! I needed you, and you turned me away! Don't you fucking dare try to now manipulate me after all you've done! No wonder Adam ran away from you. You pushed away everyone who would dare care about you until you're completely alone like you deserve!" he snarled

Taylor couldn't deny that he was scared. His heart was racing, and it was aching with sorrow and heartbreak at what his closest friend had become. Seto was right, he should've been there for him and helped him, not left Seto all alone and helpless.

Seto looked up at Taylor's shaking form, he was silent aside from his panting and Taylor could notice the faint flicker in the sorcerer's black eyes a shade of purple "It would be so easy to kill you now." Seto spoke his voice sending icy shivers up Taylor's spine. "Just a flick of my wrist and I'll never have to worry about you again." This was it, he was going to die at the hand of someone he'd abandoned. At least Adam was hopefully far away from here.

"But I'm not going to." Taylor fell back to the floor with a yelp. Seto's eyes were still flickering, and he now had a scowl on his face instead of his smirk "... You don't deserve a quick death. I want you to watch me take this kingdom and everyone you love from you."

Seto snapped his fingers and purple translucent chains wrapped around his arms, making Taylor whimper at the pressure put on his wrist.

Seto rolled his eyes and walked over, one of his hands glowed a deep purple, and he placed it on Taylor's damaged wrist "Quit your whining, I don't need you crying about something so menial."

Taylor felt the pain in his wrist evaporate after that. He stared at Seto in shock as he walked away to begin to seal the castle. Seto really could've killed him. But despite the taunting and berating that he'd received and deserved, Seto spared him and healed him.

Maybe the Seto he knew really was still in there...

---

Part 2: Will be available soon.

Message me or Josie if you wanna join her server, it’s pretty chill and we mostly just gush about AUs. :)

[holygayrightsbatman]

Wondering When Lingered Lips Chapter 1

Heres the continuation to my Trans!Peter fic that I posted a couple days ago. This time though it has Spideypool in it :D (read it on ao3 too)

Summery:

Peter really wanted to talk to Wade, to let him know that he didn't care what he looked liked, to let him know he knew exactly how he felt; but for some reason he couldn't. Every time he saw Wade sitting alone at lunch he told himself 'this will be the day, I'll talk to him'. It never happened. His words always got caught it his throat, he'd look at him wanting more then anything to say something but then Ned would come along and say something and snap him out of his trance. He'd just look at Wade one last time and follow Ned over to their table. He felt like a coward every time but he couldn't help it, he never seemed to know what the say in the moment.

He got his wish one day on just a regular tuesday morning.

Not that long after Homecoming, a new student transferred into the the year above Peter from Canada. Something like that usually wouldn't be something he or many other people even knew about but because how the new student looked he was the talk of the whole school. Wade, the new student, whole face (and from the looks of it most of the rest of his body) was covered in what Peter guessed were burn scars. He often saw Wade around school, walking through the corridors and eating alone at lunch in the cafeteria. Well to be honest it wasn't hard to find Wade even if you weren't looking for him because the crowds in the corridors seem to part so everyone could gawk, stare and whisper to their friends as he passed them. It made Peter feel sick. When he came out as transgender in middle school the exact same thing happened to him. Everyone stared and laughed as he walked down the halls, it was awful.

Peter really wanted to talk to Wade, to let him know that he didn't care what he looked liked, to let him know he knew exactly how he felt; but for some reason he couldn't. Every time he saw Wade sitting alone at lunch he told himself 'this will be the day, I'll talk to him'. It never happened. His words always got caught it his throat, he'd look at him wanting more then anything to say something but then Ned would come along and say something and snap him out of his trance. He'd just look at Wade one last time and follow Ned over to their table. He felt like a coward every time but he couldn't help it, he never seemed to know what the say in the moment. That and Wade looked like he didn't want to be bothered. He always wore a black hoodie with the hood up at all times, Peter guessed it was to hide his scars so if someone might pass him without seeing his face but now everyone knew who he was he stuck out like a sore thumb. There were many other guys who wore the same kind of clothes Wade did but you could pick him out of crowd because although he was quite tall he was always hunched over. Didn't want to take up too much space and from the looks of it he seemed shy. Peter could honestly say he'd never see him talk to anyone that even vaguely looked like a friend let alone anyone at all- other then Flash of course. Flash loved to pick on anyone even slightly out of the ordinary, and Wade fit that so well. He had given Wade the very unoriginal nickname 'Freddy Krueger', and every time they crossed paths Flash liked to loudly announce 'look out everyone, Freddy's here!' Much like how he liked to announce something like 'oh look its Penis Parker!' every time he saw Peter. On more than one occasion Peter had been so close to saying something to Flash but Wade just walked past Flash and ignored him every time (much to Flash's annoyance.) It was usual over so fast that as soon as Peter had opened his mouth Flash had already turned his attention to Peter to say some stupid transphobic comment.

Peter just hoped one day he'd get the courage to talk to Wade.

- - -

He got his wish one day on just a regular tuesday morning. Peter was walking through the front door to the school and was immediately greeted by a huge crowd of people in a circle obviously watching some kind of fight or argument. Pulling his earphones that was just when he heard Flash say, "You're just such a fucking freak. I don't know how you can even go out in public with a face like that."

Peter's stomach dropped. He knew exactly who he was insulting. Pushing his way through the crowd so he could see what was happening he was greeted to Flash berating Wade, calling him all the worst things he could think of. Wade was looking at the floor and Peter thought he might be crying and that was when he couldn't take it anymore. He found his words.

"Just leave him alone, Flash!" Peter yelled as all eyes turned from the two boys in the middle of the circle to him.

"Oh Penis Parker, how lovely for you to join us." Flash sneered. "I've just been telling your boyfriend here just how fucking ugly he is."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Why don't you just go do something useful for once instead of picking on people?"

Flash gave him a look of mock shock. "Wow! When did you grow a backbone?"

Deciding to ignore Flash, Peter turned his head to look at Wade and said, "Don't listen to anything he has to say, it's not true." At this Wade looked Peter in the eyes, not saying anything for a moment and then a small "Thank you."

Wade began to walk over to Peter and make his way out of the crowd with him when Flash, obviously very irritated called out "You freaks deserve each other, right Karen?"

Peter's blood ran cold. You see he had known Flash since Elementary school, they had actually been friends back then too. Not close friends but they had played, laughed together and had fun together but things changed at the start of Middle school when Flash had started hanging out with the more popular people in their school. The bullying didn't start until 7th grade when Peter had come out and became Flash's target for bullying.

It wasn't the first time Flash had called him his birth name to hurt him but that didn't mean that it didn't hurt like hell every time he did. Flash knew this too, knew it truly hurt Peter and yet he didn't really care.

"Don't call me that." Peter snapped.

"Why not? It's your real name." Flash grinned although it wouldn't last long because Wade turned around to face him.

"What did you call him?" He question.

"You see little Peter there isn't actually a guy, she's just a girl who thinks she i-" Flash's demeaning words were cut short as Wade's fist connected with his cheek. Hard. There was a deafening cracking sound and then there were just Flash's yelps of pain as he held his right cheek one hand and began wiping blood off himself with the other.

"What the actual fuck!" Flash all but scream as he tackled Wade. He hit the floor with a mighty THUMP, but quickly moving so he was the one on top of Flash. The crowd erupted with cheers of 'FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!‘ watching the two boys wrestle, kick and punch each other. It took Peter a few seconds to take in what was happening, and a few more run over to them trying to stop the fight but unfortunately as he tried to get in between them both, one of them accidentally elbowed him hard in the nose making him bleed profusely.

Luckily a nearby teacher heard all the commotion and got to the boys before anyone could be really hurt. "What is going on here?!" She demanded. The three boys stopped their fighting immediately and said nothing for a moment before Flash pointed accusingly at Wade.

"He did it!"

- - -

Peter hated Flash. He hated him more than anyone he'd ever met, and he met criminals on a regular everyday basis. Not only had he started the bullying but actually accused Wade of starting the fight! And apparently according to him Peter was the one with no backbone?

"I'm sorry I got you into this." Wade said, pulling Peter out of his Flash-hating thoughts.

They were sitting outside the principal's office, waiting to go inside and talk to him about the inicident. Wade shifted pressing the icepack against his nose and hissing, although for some strange reason the cut he got there seemed to be healing already but Peter wasn't really up to thinking more about that right now.

"Hey, don't worry. Flash is a dickhead and you don't deserve all those awful things he said about you." Peter gave him a small smile.

"Thank you..." Wade answered. Peter swore he could see a faint blush on Wade's cheeks and honestly it was pretty cute, he thought.

"Even though I'm usually against violence, he kinda deserved it."

"'Kinda'? He definetly deserved it." They both laughed.

Then an unfomfortable feeling settled in Peter's gut. "Hey uh, Wade?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you um... could you not call me what Flash called me. I don't use that name anymore- my new name is Peter by the way! But um yeah... please don't use that name for me." Peter stammered, his voice getting quieter and quieter as he spoke until it was barley above a whisper.

Wade just smiled at him. "Yeah, I know. My adoptive mum is actually trans so when he was saying all the shit about you it sent me off. I promise I won't ever call you that, Peter. My name is Wade by the way."

Peter smiled so widely he was sure his face was about to begin splitting apart. "Thank you, that means a lot to me. And I um, I already know your name." He answered truthfully.

Wade's own smile faulted a little. "I guessed that. I sure do stick out a whole lot."

Peter honestly wasn't sure how to answer that so he just gave a small nod instead. An awkward silence settled between them and Peter began feeling like if he didn't say anything now, he'd never get to speak to him again. And finally, finally, he found his words. The words he always wanted to tell Wade.

"I always wanted to talk to you." He took a deep breath before he began speaking again. "I see the way people look at you and it makes me so angry. People looked at me the same way when I came out and I always wanted to tell you I knew how you felt."

Wade looked at him, really looked a him and didn't say anything for moment and then smiled genuienly at him. "So that's why you're always staring at me?"

Peter indignantly snorted. So Wade had noticed, huh?

"Y-yeah, sorry about that actually. I never knew what to say before. I must of looked so creepy."

"Kinda." Peter felt so embarrassed, he was pretty sure he was going bright red. Wade let out an incredibly loud laugh. "Oh man dude, I thought you like hated me or something! I was always so sad like 'damn this really cute boy hates me.'" Wade said before releasing what he had just confessed too and now it was his turn to look embarrassed, but surprisingly he didn't. He just carried on grinning at Peter.

Not only was Peter incredibly embarrassed but he was now also incredibly flustered.

"You think I'm cute?" Peter asked in a small voice.

"Well yeah, duh! I have eyes, Peter!" Wade joked.

Peter was sure he was going to die. This is how he was going to die, being complimented to death by the guy he'd been trying desperetly to talk to for the past couple weeks. Unfortunely before Wade had to chance to kill him properly the door to the Principal's office swung open, the Principal apeared at the door and asked the both of them to come in. Flash passed them on the way out, purposely shoving against Peter's arm, which didn't go un-noticed by the Principal but he didn't say anything. He moved to sit behind his desk and motion for the two boys to sit in the chairs he'd put there for them.

"Neither of you are in trouble, yet, I just need to go over what happened."

Wade sighed.

"It's Flashes fault." Peter answered. "He was calling Wade insulting things so I told him to stop but he didn't."

The Principal turn to Wade. "Is this true, Mr. Wilson?"

"Yea-yes it's true but actually, Peter shouldn't be here." Peter turned to look at Wade as he continued. "Flash began calling me things and Peter came and told him to stop, but then he started say some real horrible stuff about Peter and I just snapped and punched him. None of this is Peter's fault, he actually tried to stop us! That's why he's hurt, he tried to get between us but he got hit on accident. The start of it is Flash's fault but the actual fight itself is my fault."

The Principal smiled slightly at him. "Thank you Mr. Wilson. Is this what happen Mr. Parker?"

It took Peter a second, too shocked to answer. While Wade was correct about what happened he had been expecting him to take the fall for him. "Um, yes he's right."

"And what was Mr. Thompson saying to you both?" He question.

Wade decided to answer this one. "He was making fun of me for my scars. He said- and I quote- 'You're just such a fucking freak. I don't know how you can even go out in public with a face like that.' Pardon my french. He also called me the usual things like 'Freddy Krueger' too.

"'Usual things?'" Questioned the Principal.

"Oh, uh, yeah, he calls me names a lot." Wade answered uncomfortablely.

"Have you told anyone about this?"

"Well I'm tell you now." Wade tried to joke and gave a little fake laugh but it fell flat.

"How long as he been doing this?"

"Since I got here basically." He said softly.

"This isn't okay." He turned to look at Peter once again. "And you Mr. Parker, have you expirenced Mr. Thompson bullying you or anyone else."

Well time to tell the truth, he guessed. "Yeah... hes been bullying me since Middle school."

The Principal leaned back slightly in his chair. "You didn't tell anyone here or at your previous school?"

"No, I didn't." He sighed

The Principal was quiet for a moment until he said, "Boys this isn't okay. You should of said something before it evolved into this. I can see this is very much Mr. Thompson's fault but Mr. Wilson as you started the physical fight I going to have to punish you too." Wade's skin crawled as he heard the word 'punish'. "I'm going too give you a detention. Just one. You're quite lucky that it's just that, and Parker since you were actually trying to stop the fight I'm not going to punish you. You're both free to go and please tell Mr. Thompson to come back in on your way out."

Peter let out an audible sigh of refief and exited the office with Wade following behind him. He stepped out of the office and not wanting to look or talk to Flash more than he already had too he just stifly said, "He wants to see you." As he passed, not even looking at him. They got back to class just fine with a small but awkward goodbye.

What a way to start my day, Peter thought.

- - -

Peter got managed to skip his whole first period and half of second one so it wasn't all bad considering he missed French and Geography (two of his most hated subjects.) Plus Ned was so excited when he got to see him at break time. He made Peter recount exactly what happened in excruciating detail (not that Peter wouldn't of anyway.) MJ acted like it was the boring thing they'd heard in their life but he knew that secrectly they were pretty happy hearing that Flash had got the shit beaten out of him.

- - -

At lunch time Peter started making his way over to his usual table where he could see that Ned and MJ were already chatting. Ned, rather animatedly and MJ saying a few one sentence responses to him. Peter couldn't help but smile, he really loved his friends. Sometimes it was just nice to watch them being happy. At that moment his head turned to look at the other table he watched many times. Wade was sitting on his own again, on the table next to one of the bin, since it didn't smell great there it was the only one that seemed to be permanently free until Wade had taken it.

Peter took a deep breath and strod over to the table. "Hey, Wade. Do you wanna sit with me and my friends today?"

Wade looked up at him from his food with a massive smile, not unlike the one he'd been wearing when they were waiting out the Principals office. "I'd love to." He picked up his tray and followed Peter to his table.

Ned looked incredibly excited as his eye caught onto Wade. "Yo, dude! Peter told me all about how you beat the fuck outta Flash this morning for being an ableist transphobic dickbag, man I wish I could seen it."

Somehow Wade's grin got even bigger. "You should of, it was the best thing I've ever done."

Peter felt a bit embarrassed after having Ned tell Wade about how much he admired Wade for doing what he did but part of him also liked it. A warmth pooled in his stomach. Okay maybe Peter had been lying a little bit when he said he just wanted to be Wade's friend. Maybe he wanted a little more then that. Peter honestly though he was quite handsome.

While Peter was off in his Wade-centric dreamland, MJ looked up at Wade and said, "Hey, Wade. Glad to see you dismantling the school social structure."

Wade turned to her and greeted her. "Hey, MJ. You know me, all I wanna do is dismantle things." He winked. Peter wasn't quite sure what that quite meant but it made him snort.

He then realised what they said. "Wait- do you guys know each other?" He questioned looked between the both of them.

"Yeah we met in detention last week, they drew this really great picture of me." Wade answered.

"One of my best. He's a great muse." MJ said.

"Of course you two know each other already." Ned sighed in a loving way.

"If I'd known I'd get to sit with you guys, I'd of beaten up Flash on my first day." Joked Wade. They all giggled uncontrollably.

Yeah, Peter could see this really working out.

[cholisan]

Bereaved[sasuhina]

To those who lost,

I wish I had something to offer to you guys but I don't. Even now I am trying to come up with something to say but words are failing me. I wish I could tell you that it is going to be okay but I can't. I don't know that. No one does. The only thing I can tell you is to hang in there, that it is okay to be not-okay, that if you want to talk about it or anything then I am here, that even if I don't know you my prayers are with you.

This is for you all.

Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto.

Excuse my errors.

Hinata saw it happen.

...his tiny foot twisting under his weight, inertia throwing him face first into the hard ground, his chin connecting first sending ripples that cracked bones in his skull, his teeth sinking into his tongue to tear his flesh apart, a fountain of blood bursting forth upon which he choked, snatching away precious gulps of air that his punctured lung hadn't already robbed him of, legs bent in an impossible angel, a broken tooth near his chubby hand, mouth parted in a cry that never escaped, skin blue and red in several places, a picture from his disaster of a coloring book but still so precious, like his eyes, his smile ,like him, so beautiful to look at yet so devastating to think of when shattered, tattered, broken.

But he screamed.

And the world was turning again.

"Hinata!?"

She blinked.

"Breathe."

It dawned on her that it was her lungs that were burning, it was her body that was aching and it was she who was dying if not already.

"You're crying."

Her eyes found the boy again, still on the ground, wailing as he clung to his scraped knee. A small crowd had gathered around him, two adults crouched near him, a young man and woman definitely his parents, shaken, worried, loving him, kissing. Thank Kami that they weren't them, that he wasn't him. He wasn't him.

Oh Kami, he wasn't him!

Her heart broke again and it sounded like a sob.

"Hinata, sweetie. Try to breathe or you will faint. Breathe in and out. In and out."

So, she breathed in another day without him.

.

.

.

She was going to hell.

But she had no objections whatsoever. If it were up to her, she'd send herself to the endless pit of flames too. Even that would be too kind on her. She had taken a life, crushed hearts and destroyed hopes. Failure had become a second nature to her whether it was at being a daughter, an heiress, a matriarch, wife or a mother. She was a failure. Disappointment. Father was right to berate her. Her elders' head shakes were all too justified.

So was Sasuke's hate.

Had he not been away that fateful day, Hinata knew that none of it would've occurred. He was the better parent out of the two. More skilled, more equipped and less distracted. But in their traditional setting, he was the breadwinner. He was the one tasked with risking his life to feed his family. It was her job to look after their only child, for which she had left behind her shinobi life.

And a fine job she did.

Now, she came back to their empty house, howling loud on stormy nights. The silence screamed at her, a mocking reminder of the mornings she had wished her son was a little quieter. Go sleep now, she heard, go fucking sleep all you want. If only she could have things she needed to do, chores she needed to attend to. Wash his sheets on chilly mornings that'd swell her toes or prepare his milk in the middle of the night. If only she still could sleep amidst her walls screaming at her.

In the kitchen, Sasuke's food sat on the counter, wasting away like him in a dirty bar downtown with every bottle that burned down his throat. She hated the taste of alcohol. It tasted like funeral and the sick comfort she turned to when Sasuke refused. But how dare she seek comfort when it was because of her that her baby boy was six feet under. She would find none when she went to hell. Better get accustomed to it when she could.

She turned the lights off.

The group was gathering again tomorrow, she thought slipping under the sheets. She didn't know why she even bothered with these support groups but knew why her husband didn't. He loathed her very existence, as he should. They hadn't married for love exactly and had only found it in the form of their son. So, when they lost him, he lost his mind and she both him and herself. This was the only way he knew to cope up with all the hurt. Hate was the only emotion he embraced in its entirety. He would not breathe the same air as her, if he could help it and Hinata didn't blame him. She just hoped she didn't see Mrs. Kasumi again. Mrs. Kasumi with her moist gaze and sad smile and her daughter, little Akane, eight, whom she had lost to cancer - a tumor in her head she was born with but never knew, that grew up with her until it ruptured an artery in her brain. Her last day had been tiring, Kasumi often told, spent throwing up all over the place. But she had died peacefully in her sleep with her mother's words, "it's okay, baby. Mommy gets sick too."

Hinata wished she could've told him something loving like that. Not how bad a boy he had been. She wished she hadn't given him a timeout, that her last memory of him was not of his beautiful face soaked in tears. How he too died peacefully, in sleep. How he didn't die at all. How she still had him by her side in the bed, blowing raspberries on his tiny belly. How he was the one screaming at her and not her walls.

She was going to hell and Kami she knew she deserved it.

.

.

.

In the Hyuuga backyard, she could hear the wooden slab of a lonely swing crying with the willow tree it held on to. Last time, Hanabi had told her that she was taking it off, that it reminded the clan about the loss of their youngest member. He was loved wherever he went. Both houses had mourned his death. It was a painful memory for everyone.

It must have escaped Hanabi's mind, with all the things she was currently dealing with when her father refused to be of any help. He had taken a sudden liking to his room where he remained for the entirety of his day.

She tried to not burden anyone but people didn't make it easy to be around them. Not with their pitying gazes or their half-hearted remarks or their it's going to be okay's. Because it wasn't going to be okay, for a long time at least, if not forever. She wanted them to tell her that it was okay to be not-okay.

But they told her other things. Cruel things. Not all but some. Her clan elders to be more specific. They told her: "It has been too long."

To which Hanabi replied, "She lost a child, you heartless bastard. A child. But you wouldn't know that, would you? When you never had a child of your own."

It would summon several gasps from the table, many plates of food untouched, like hers, before them. A fist would slam on the table with so much force that it would clatter all the chinaware sitting innocently there. "Hanabi. Stay in your place. We do not appreciate insolence directed towards our elders."

"And I do not appreciate you poking your nose where it doesn't belong. Why don't you just take care of your wife so that she doesn't turn to others instead of worrying about my sister and I."

"HANABI!"

"Lower your voice or I'll do it for you."

By then, many seats would be abandoned on both sides, byakugan glaring, threats exchanged, clansmen against clansmen. It looked like beginning of another war, one that would be all her fault. There was so much on her shoulders already. She didn't want more.

And that was why she would call everyone's attention with a loud "t-thank you for t-the meal", turn to the man who started it all and bow so low, as if being weighed down with all that she was made to carry. "I-I'm sorry Hajime-sama for worrying you. Please give me more time. I-I'll try to get better." And she'd be out before he could reply.

To think she would want to return to the safety of her home. It didn't feel safe. It didn't even feel like a home. Sasuke had made a motel out of it. In his defense, she had been the one who had reduced their house to a mere building of bricks and walls. There had once been his pictures all over the Livingroom wall but after a particularly difficult night when her tears wouldn't stop flowing, she had taken them off, packed it in a box and tucked it in one corner of the attic. Those weren't the only things that went and eight months later, their house was barren of his very touch, an empty cradle.

So Sasuke was justified to treat it as such. He came and went and when he did decide to stay, he remained locked up in his library. At one point, Hinata had deduced that out of the two, he was dealing with it better. He still went on missions, hung out with his former team, visited Ichiraku's, smiled and talked in that smooth way of his, bathed and ate (just not her food). But the dark circles under his eyes and his quickly graying hair clashed with her assumption and she felt stupid to be fooled by his masks.

But she could be alone there. Solitude had become her safe heaven. While she could pretend to be fine before Hajime-san and her clan, there she could break over and over again. She could be not-okay there.

.

.

.

Another meeting of the grief support group came and went, new pain to add to her already miserable life. Another day where she merely sat and let time pass her by. How many times had they asked if she wanted to share her story, Hinata had lost count. And even though there was so much she wanted them to know about him, about how much he had filled her life with joy and happiness with the little things he did, she just couldn't. The words failed her even if they just hung at the tip of her tongue.

Thus, the group that was supposed to help grieving parents left her in more anguish. She felt like an even bigger loser. He deserved to have songs written after him after all that he had done for her. Her little savior. But she couldn't even tell them his name because it hurt. How selfish could she get?

She aimlessly strolled through the streets, not wanting to go home just yet. At the same time, she wanted not to run into people she knew. Shino would not know what to say and Kiba tried so hard to not talk about their deceased son that she'd suppress the urge wince. She couldn't look at Sakura without having a panic attack. She had been the one to try put together his broken body. Kurenai was somewhat comfortable to be around. Among them, he wasn't a taboo topic and hearing her talk about him was actually calming. Right now, however, she didn't want to be around her. She just didn't feel like talking her broken sentences that his death had brought back to life.

And although she had decided to skirt the Hyuuga compound that her feet and unconsciously taken her to, she was halted in her path by the screams that rang, the loudest being her father's.

She rushed inside, worried eyes searching the crowd of Hyuugas in her way for her sister, beginning Kami that nothing happened to either her or her father. She found them around her son's swing, Hanabi telling him something animatedly while Hiashi holding on to it for dear life. The crowd parted to make way for her when several white eyes landed on her and she simply trudged to them, confused. "Wha-what's going on?"

"Hinata. Thank goodness you're are here. Talk to him. He won't listen to me." Hiashi simply turned his face away, knowing well that if she insisted, he won't be able to refuse.

"Father. What's going on?"

"He being unreasonable, that's what's goin-."

Hinata raised her hand to silence her and walked up to him. Something about his father holding on to her son's swing made her heart ache. He had loved him, with all his heart. Losing him after Hizashi and Neji had been the final straw. He just wasn't the same. "Father?"

She saw how his grip tightened around the rope, how he squeezed his eyes to will his tears away. "They want to take his swing off. I won't allow it."

"Fathe-"

"Nobody forgets my grandson. Nobody."

She didn't know what happened in that instant but the next moment she was laughing through her tears. "Yes father. No one forgets him." Many concluded that the father-daughter duo had finally lost it and maybe they had but there was something in their broken laughter that had been lost and found. What was and wasn't there, Hinata could make a list but above all she would put forgiveness and hope in bold letters.

The swing stayed.

She went home that day and took out his pictures to put them exactly where they belonged on the wall. A particularly favorite picture of Sasuke and him that had once sat on his table made her sneak into his library in a bold display of happiness, something she avoided in the name of an unannounced rule. Scrolls and books littered the table and the floor she tiptoed across to prevent stepping on one. There was a smile when she placed the framed photograph on the table but it fell when her eyes registered the words stretched across one of the books Sasuke had left open.

"What are you doing?"

She forced her frozen body to turn. Sasuke stood at the door, glaring daggers at her but it was his hair that caught her attention, the bones sticking out on his face, his thin frame and it all made sense now. Once again, she had been fooled by his masks. "Y-you're p-planning on reviving him?"

He marched up to her and snatched the book out of her hands, "get out!"

But she stayed. "You want to re-revive him?"

He was still glowering but it had a touch of vulnerability. "Don't you?"

She breathed out shakily. "A-at what price, Sasuke? Your life?"

"It's not that big of a price. I'd do it in a heartbeat if you offered it. I would choose him over you any day of the week."

Her lips trembled, vision going blurry. I'd do it too. I'd choose him over me too.

"I hate you."

I hate me more.

"I hate you for not letting me a farewell. You had no right to do that. No right!"

He had been in Kiri when the devastating news got to him. By the time he returned, there was a new grave to add to the ever stretching Uchiha cemetery. He had screamed at her. Yelled. This was not her decision to make alone. He was his son too and he wasn't even allowed a final glance.

"I hate you for taking him away from me!"

He was on the floor now, a crying mess while she stood, barely keeping her weight up. Strangely, her eyes were dry. She always knew he blamed her, hated her and yet the declaration had left her numb. She was lost as to what to feel.

"I don't blame you for his death but you took my final moments with him. You had no right. You had no right, none at all. How dare you take that from me! "

His screams rang louder than her crash on the floor beside him. He had his head in his hands, tears hidden away but she cupped his face and made him look up. "I'm sorry I did that to you. I'm so sorry but you wouldn't have been able to take it. It would've killed you." He still had nightmares about the massacre. Many a times, before his death, she had held him to her bosom when he woke up screaming in the middle of the night, sweating but shivering. How could she have let him see the twisted body of the boy that he had loved more than life itself. There were many things Hinata had done that she wanted to undo but this was not among them.

"It didn't kill you."

Not in the literal sense of the word, no. But she died every day. She was messed up in so many ways that even death wouldn't take her. Perhaps that was what they called hell. You burned but you didn't.

"At least tell me he died happy."

"He got into a fight that day and I had scolded him for it so he wasn't happy about it. He said that he liked daddy more."

Sasuke let out a choked laugh, a sleeve pressed to his eyes. "I always was his favorite."

Only when her tears dripped down her face did she realize she had been crying. But she smiled, the kind that ached inside your chest when you finished reading your favorite book. "You were."

There was silence for a while and then there was "He was a happy child, right? He was loved."

Hinata smiled. "He was." And so much more.

They didn't eat lunch together that day (surprisingly or unsurprisingly, Hinata didn't know which) or sleep in the same bed but despite his declarations of hate and all the hurtful things he had said, she was peaceful because silence had been broken and not hearts and she could live with just that.

The next time she went to the support group, Sasuke had been there at the door, waiting. And that she knew was surprising.

It would be a long time before she could look back at their time together and not cry but she had taken a step in that direction and after what had felt like an eternity, she could proudly say "I did it." And when Mrs. Kasumi politely asked if anyone wanted to share their story, she felt Sasuke's hand slip into hers, a silent push, to which she nodded. Our son will not be forgotten, she promised to him and herself before getting up.

And so, for the first time, she spoke.

.

.

.

Tayyabalaraib.