#for one of those days i hadnt straightened my hair yet and i had some people say things about it. I'm not quite as sad about it now but :(

[silverselfshippingchaos]

oh hey it's been a few days since I made a personal post

[witchcraft-in-wonderland]

Radio Silence (Pt.1)

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

Logan Devros was a very odd man, short, not particularly fit, with round black glasses that just barely left room for the rest of his face, and a rather large gap just between his teeth. But there was one thing that stood out more about Logan than any physical feature. Logan was mute, except when he had his hands on a radio.

Logan had always been a very inquisitive child, and at age sixteen he'd discovered something very much convenient, radio waves could be manipulated from an outside source to connect the words stored within into a neat string of sentences. He knew of course that other devices could do this just as effectively, but he liked to think that his own discovery was much more sentimental.

Another thing that was quite well known about Logan, was his prowess in terms of guitar, he couldnt tell stories with words, so instead he told them with strings, and what stories they were.

You could always tell what mood he was in by the songs he played, a low and somber tone brought in questions about his life and living conditions, a high and energetic tone gathered crowds of excited people, ready to toss a coin or a dollar into a guitar case which lay in front of a bar stool.

Logan lived in a small town, so it was no surprise that he knew all his patrons, and they knew him just as well.

But soon things began to change, people began moving away to bigger and better things, opportunities opened up in large cities with loud noises and bright lights that made Logan's skin crawl just thinking about them.

And so the crowds dwindled, until what had once been at least a hundred, was hardly more than a handful.

So Logan had stopped playing, it didnt make any sense to spin stories that no one would listen to, after all, he was quite tired of that from his childhood as it was.

So he stayed in his room, head resting on a desk as the sun peaked through the curtains, tapping his fingers and twisting dials on a radio, repeating the same phrases over and over again.

Alone

Sad

Forgotten

Worthless

Like some cruel melody that would never make it's way to the strings of the old guitar laying on his bed, just those four words, over, and over, until he got up to eat or sleep or whatever else required him to leave his room for a few seconds.

And it all came crashing further down within the next month, the town was all but abandoned, and was soon on it's way to being bulldozed into an amusement park.

Which meant Logan had to move.

So he took his four favorite words, and he wandered the streets for the next few days, not daring to think of all he had to give away to simply move somewhere safer.

Not daring to think of the memories.

Not daring to think of the people, the family he'd be leaving.

And two years later it still hurt, but at least now he could use a few new words.

Order up!

Refill at table seven!

Have a good day!

The bakery and boarding house he'd found himself situated in had been a very ironic bittersweet opportunity.

Patton Boleyn had inherited the company from his parents, he was very chatty, and very interested in Logan's radio, and his music. Logan would sometimes play for the patrons when he wasnt serving, that seemed to satiate the obvious hunger for violence that swam in the eyes of those just itching for a reason to gain money rather than spend it.

Patton didnt seem to mind that Logan only spoke through radio waves, and for the most part neither did the locals, it was only ever tourists that seemed to have trouble understanding that he could very easily hear their orders despite not being able to repeat them back.

"Pretty good haul tonight huh Logie?" Patton said as he checked the register.

New books replied the radio, Logan smiling as he counted out his share of that nights earnings.

"Oh! That reminds me, theres a book club starting tonight! I think you should go," Patton smiled, Logan froze slightly.

No socializing protested the radio, Patton pouted slightly.

"Just try it out? You barely interact with anyone but me, it's not good for you!" Patton nudged Logan slightly in the arm.

Logan let out a resound sigh, one of the few sounds he could make without static.

One night replied the radio, and despite the distinctly hyper-tone of the song the words had been pulled from, Logan's expression conveyed disdain for the idea.

And yet, soon enough he was sitting in a library, wishing he'd remembered to get a hair cut when the resident little old lady had commented on how nice it looked, checking every few seconds to make sure the black beanie he was wearing still sat securely on his head.

The radio was held tightly to his chest, hidden behind a large black hoodie, and emitting a faint buzz that he hoped was another case of his ears picking up the Forbidden Sounds that most couldnt hear.

The only discussion occurring seemed to be of what to read, and how you should interpret what you're reading. Logan thought about drifting off soon after someone mentioned how the color of someones curtains could be used to determine what mental illness they might be suffering from, until someone else spoke up.

"Cheryl I hope you are aware that the words that just came out of your mouth may very well be the dumbest sentence ever constructed by a person." Logan looked across the table to see a man in a torn denim vest and black tank top leaning over the table, honey-colored eyes staring down the woman across from him.

"You cant tell that someone suffers from a disorder based purely on their curtain color, and while those suffering from certain illnesses may be more inclined to pick colors that would be less than ideal, but would reflect how they feel, a man hanging up the color black hardly indicates a depressive state so much as a fear of the unknown, which you would know had you actually finished the chapter and reached the part where he's confronted with a rip in the curtains that allows him to see what goes on outside his home," said the man, straightening up and checking his nails through fingerless black leather gloves. The woman across from him seemed floored.

Logan let out an involuntary snicker, and froze up immeadietly as attention became refocused on him. He felt like putty under the gaze of those honey yellow eyes.

"Am I to assume you agree then?" Said the man, leaning his head on his hand and letting his elbow rest on the table.

He reminded Logan somewhat of a snake, from his eyes, to the pattern of brown and tan that made of his complexion.

Yes came the radio from behind Logan's jacket.

"Oh it's that little mute boy from the bakery!" Logan's face flushed with color at the comment from somewhere else in the room.

"I believe his name is Logan." Snarled the man in the denim vest.

Logan spent the rest of the meeting wishing he could disappear again, because it seemed that now that they were aware he was here, people interrupted conversation of books with questions about his personal life and how awful it must be to have no voice to speak with, to which he replied with a quick rendition of his favorite song by Lilly Allen from the radio.

Eventually it was over, but to Logan's momentary dismay, he was stopped before he could head home, only to discover the man from before had been the one to catch his attention.

"I'm Janus by the way," he said simply.

Nice to meet you the radio chimed, Logan flashing a small smile to accompany the words.

"Wanna head back to my place for a drink or two? I feel kind of bad about what happened in there," Janus said, Logan merely nodded.

What he hadnt expected from Janus' house, was the very active roommate he had roomed with.

"Oh I didnt realize he was so tiny! Janus look at him I could probably hold him over my shoulder with one arm!" The roommate, Remus, was rather tall and lanky, almost like if someone had taken a worm on a string and given it limbs.

I am not short replied the radio as Logan crossed his arms and glared up at Remus.

"Aaawww, hes in denial," Remus replied.

This conversation carried on for a short while before Janus arrived with drinks, not that Logan minded, it was actually kind of fun.

And he found himself thinking that Janus and Remus themselves were actually quite nice as well.

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

Tag list:

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@pricklyfish777

@the-sad-strawberry

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@frog-candy-bee

[siodymph]

“The Before and After”

Hey there @pirably ! I’m so sorry this is getting to you so late! I can’t thank you enough for participating in the gift exchange, and I hope you enjoy my take on your prompt!

Feel free to read your story under the cut or over on my ao3!

“I can’t believe you!”

“What?”

Sighing, Stanford took a deep breath. His neck was starting to feel pinched from looking up at so long. “I said I CAN’T BEL-”

“I heard what you said! What’s not to believe?”

“Just… Everything about this! There’s no way this is safe!”

There was a long pause as Stanford waited until he finally heard Fiddleford respond. Voice echoing out from somewhere near the top of his gigantic creation.

“… Probably not!”

“Then why do you insist on working like this? Why put yourself in life-threatening danger!”

“Cause!” Fiddleford called back, huffing. “I work best directly with my hands. And there’s no way I could tip this darned thing over without risking it all breaking! All for some shiftin’ wires!”

“You could build something to help gently set it down then stand it again!” Stanford tried to add.

“Ugh! But that’d take even more time! Not to mention I’d have to build that first!” Fiddleford yelled. “Now hush up! I’m trying to work here Stanford!”

If someone were to see Stanford at that moment, they probably would have said he was pouting. But Ford would take to his grave if he had to. “I just want you to be safe…”

“I’m harnessed to the swing, which I rigged up myself! Checked the pulleys and everything this morning! I’m the safest I’ve ever been!” Fiddleford called out one more time. “And you’re one to talk! Where was all this fussing over safety when you were in Dr. Jenret’s class and you almost poured acid on yourself?”

Stanford could only smile and shake his head in response. As always Fiddleford was able to win him over when he least suspected it. As inevitable as it was, it still caught Stanford off-guard. Growing up there had been no one like that in his life. If he ever got into arguments or debates with kids they’d always either eventually concede or just completely give up. Or they’d just hit him out of annoyance. If it was his brother he’d do a combination of the last two.

At least Stanford used that excuse as to why after knowing the man for years now, he still managed to surprise him when they got into debates.

To this day Fiddleford was probably the only person he knew who could get him to shut up and see things from a new perspective.

So now knowing there was nothing he could say Stanford decided to just sit back and watch the show Fiddleford was putting on. The man may be stubborn as a mule, but he was equally as cunning and brilliant, and he certainly made a performance out of his larger-than-life projects.

There was no denying Fiddleford’s brilliance. He had the most engineering and mechanical skill out of anyone Stanford knew. Even better than himself, which was something he seldom admitted to anyone. But it was the truth. Fiddleford Hadron McGucket was by far the best of the best in the world of robotics. And anyone who said otherwise was wrong.

Just being able to watch Fiddleford work was a treat itself. As his creation came together it quickly collected height. So much so that he soon had to resort to rigged swings and climbing equipment to finish the job. As he worked up off the ground like that Stanford couldn’t help but think of those old photos from the 1940’s of construction workers building the first skyscrapers. So high off the ground, only a pair of overalls and a utility belt for protection, and yet seeming so at ease. There was almost a beauty in how effortless Fiddleford made it seem. A grace he had while swinging from rig to rig, climbing up the structure with his hands and feet.

But when the light hit his face just right and Stanford could see Fiddleford’s hair shine golden, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat from his hard work, Stanford knew in his heart his feelings for the other man hadn’t changed at all.

He found he’d only grown to love Fiddleford Hadron McGucket even more...

Two hours later, Fiddleford came swinging down. Overalls covered in a layer of grim, hair frizzled and frumpy, face red and sweaty, and a satisfying smile that just looked ethereal on Fiddleford’s face.

“How’d it go?” Stanford asked as he ran back over from his own work to meet him. Handing the other man a towel.

“Pretty good I think!” Fiddleford sighed gratefully as he started to wipe off his face. “Got that wiring all straightened out! Now all that’s left is testing her out!”

“That’s wonderful! We should test it now!”

“You know Stanford it’s a good thing I like ya so much.” Fiddleford said with a tired smirk. “Been up there all day, and as soon as I get down you want me to keep on working!”

“You know you want to see your new invention just as much as I do!” Stanford replied. “Don’t even kid yourself Fidds.”

Chuckling to himself, Fiddleford went over to his work bench and grabbed the remote control he’d built for this his invention. He let his finger hover over the main controls before looking towards Stanford.

“Hang onto your butts…”

All at once, the remote buzzed and the colossal machine burst to life. Inbetween metal panels, there was a bright green glow. Panels began to bend and shift. Massive wings unfurled from either side of the robot. For a moment the creature turned its head to look at its master. Green eyes glowing with a light that feuled it from within. Then after Fiddleford pressed another button the remote buzzed again and the creature tilted its head back at gave out a massive prehistoric screech that made Stanford’s entire chest rattle.

“Not too bad for someone who said they were moving onto computer-work only, huh?”

Stanford looked up at the massive mechanic pterodactyl in awe. “Fiddleford… Fiddlford that was nowhere close to ‘not bad’. That was… That was amazing!”

“Aw shucks,” Fiddleford mumbled.

“No, I mean it!” Stanford continued. “This is a piece of history in the making here. This won’t just change the world of animatronics, but the entire world of robots and engineering itself!”

“You really think so?” Fiddleford asked.

“I know so!” Stanford tried to contain some of his excitement, sometimes he could get rather loud when he got carried away. “And Fiddleford? I couldn’t imagine this being made by anyone else but yourself. You really did a… a fantastic job here. There’s no way you won’t take first place in Dawngrove next week!”

“Aw, I don’t care about none of that.” Fiddleford sighed as he turned off his robo-dino. “I’m only doing this for lil’Tate. He’s the one who asked me to do all this after all.”

“And I’m certain Tate will adore this too.”

“I hope so...” Fiddleford said with another sigh. Looking back up at his incredible invention. “Ever since me and the missus split I feel like I haven’t seen him as often. When we are together I gotta make it mean something. For the both of us.”

Gently, Stanford took Fiddlford’s face in his hands, pulling him away so they were looking eye to eye.

“Believe me Fiddleford, next week Dawngrove’s Robotic Royal will be a day no one could ever forget!”

Leaning in closer, Stanford kissed him. And closing his eyes, Fiddleford could feel himself relaxing.

Slipping away. If only for a few moments...

 ~~~

 Sometimes it truly amazed Fiddleford how everything was coming back to him.

At least physically if not completely mentally. He was still working on that.

He counted it as a small success though when Stanford showed him a massive mechanical pterodactyl and he got the inkling of a sensation that he’d seen it before.

Raising one hand up, he touched one of its massive wings. It felt rougher than he’d expected it to. No doubt the metal had eroded some after years of hiding it away in such an abandoned place.

“I know I’ve seen this fella before…” Fiddleford pondered out loud, still lightly rubbing over the metal as if that would help him reveal the answer. He knew he’d made robotic pterodactyls before but this one didn’t seem as familiar. It definitely wasn’t the one he made for revenge after his retirement-party-fiasco. “Did we make this together?”

“Not really, I just watched.” Stanford answered. “You made this one on your own. It was for this competition out in Dawngrove California.”

“Dawngrove…” Fiddleford said slowly.

“Yes, does that town sound familiar at all?”

Fiddleford hummed a little before shaking his head. “It ain’t there right now, but it’ll come back. I can feel it rattle’n around in there.”

Stanford seemed a little disappointed, but decided to move on. “Well you and I brought that in for a robotics competition. A battle royal actually. You ended up getting first place. Your ex-wife and your son even came and we all cheered you on.”

The mention of his son brought a smile to his face. The details over everything were hazy but he always knew who Tate was. “He would have been around eight or nine right?”

“Yes, he was nine!” Stanford said.

Fiddleford chuckled at the thought. “He was such a little squirt back then. Always hiding under that big mop of hair…”

Stanford grumbled as he looked around. He wished he had more photos from that day. In his experience with Stanley photos help jogged Stan’s memory the best. Unfortunately he didn’t have any photos from that day. He was however able to find a few newspaper clippings he’d held onto from that day. Carefully picking it up the fragile paper so it didn’t disintegrate, Stanford brought it over for Fiddleford to see.

“Look here,” Stanford pointed to the main picture under the headline ‘Super Scientist and Father Wins Grand Prize with his Dynamic Dino!’ where there was a black and white photo of the Pterodactyl back in its golden years. “If you look towards the bottom near the pterodactyl’s feet you can see a few figures. That’s me on the right, you on the left, and you’re holding Tate in the middle of us.”

The article itself was so damaged it was illegible. But Fiddleford could just make out their figures Stanford was pointing to in the picture. The picture was so old the image had begun to fade some too, mostly on the left side. His whole body was faded out. But with enough focus he could just make out Stanford and Tate’s faces. Both were beaming at the camera. Grinning with pride. Fiddleford realized they’d been proud of him.

“You two sure seemed happy…” Fiddleford said with a sigh.

“And we still are.” Stanford continued. “You have no idea how happy I am to be here with you. To have a second chance at making things right with you. With everyone.”

Fiddleford nodded but didn’t look up from the picture. As if trying to memorize their faces in case this memory never came back to him. When he didn’t focus as hard he could almost recall some things. Mostly phantom feelings. Like holding a giggling Tate close to his chest. Or swinging up on a rig, shouting to Stanford down below. Walking hand in hand with both of them…

“I’m happy I get a second chance too.” Fiddleford replied softly.

Eventually they’d seen everything they could and together, hand in hand, they walked back out of that old warehouse back into the world. They’d been in there reminiscing so long they’d missed sunset. It was already night and the moon hung low in the sky, darting out from behind trees as they walked.

Stanford’s six-fingered hand felt so warm in Fiddleford’s own. How he’d spent all those years alone, Fiddleford didn’t know, but now that Stanford was back in his life he knew he couldn’t bear to go back to the way things had once been. The world had changed so much, and they’d both changed so much with it. But Fiddleford could feel it in his heart that what they had between themselves was still as special as it was back then.

And when the light hit his face just right Fiddleford could see Stanford’s hair shine silver, and his eyes practically sparkling under the moon, Fiddleford knew in his heart his feelings for the other man hadn’t changed at all.

He found he’d only grown to love Stanford Filbrick Pines even more.

[sam-lives-story]

#SamLives - Chapter 8

“Bump In The Night”

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Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

October 24th, 2015

Jack had finished recording for the day, and he was more than ready to head to bed. A yawn escaped him and he stretched both arms over his head, arching his back against his desk chair. He felt a few joints pop as he did so. Oof…he’d been sitting for too long. Maybe it was time to invest in one of those standing desks…?

The Irishman stood and ruffled his hair - vibrant green, which was a very recent change for him - to try and get rid of the dent left by his headphones. He took his time in turning off his equipment and shutting everything down before leaving the room. It had been a good recording day. He’d managed to finish Fran Bow today as well, and holy hell if that hadn’t been a good game. He already knew he was going to miss playing it. A soft smile graced his features and he strolled down the hall toward the bathroom, scratching the back of his head. Yeah. Fran was fun. He hoped he got the chance to play another game he could do voices for. Maybe for Undertale? That was one he’d been looking at starting soon too…

A noise from his bedroom made him pause outside the open door, his eyes flicking between the bedroom’s handle and the closed bathroom door further down the hall. What was that…?

The noise didn’t repeat, so Jack ducked his head into his bedroom and turned on the light, frowning. Blue eyes searched the now-illuminated space…and…oh. He rolled his eyes. There was a pile of Sams that he usually kept at the corner of his dresser, stacked up in front of the mirror above his sock drawer. They were from fans, from his community, all sent to him from all over the world. It always made him smile to see them and it made him want more and more to try and go to a convention, so he could meet people face-to-face. He hadn’t been to many yet.

Anyway, he normally kept the Sam pile stacked on the corner of his dresser, but at the moment most of them were on the floor. Not that it surprised him. They were all round, so if one toppled, it was basically expected that a whole bunch of them would roll off the edge too. Ah well. Jack padded across the room in socked feet and crouched to pick them up, stacking them in his arms one by one, standing once he’d gather them all. He dumped them onto the dresser again with the intent of - maybe - straightening them in the morning. Then he turned to the door, ready to leave it at that.

Which he would have done…if it weren’t for the fact that he saw something move out of the corner of his eye.

Jack paused mid-step and glanced over his shoulder again, more tense than before. What was that? He narrowed his eyes at the pile of Sams…and that’s when he saw it. One of the Sams moved. Jack blinked and his breath hitched. What the hell…? He crouched in front of the dresser and he stared at the one he thought had moved. It was about the size of a normal eye, maybe a little bigger…and it was almost shiny. Not plush, like the rest.

Jack blinked.

Sam blinked back.

“fUCKIN’ JAYSUS–“

In his haste to scramble back from the dresser, Jack tripped over his own feet and ended up sprawling backwards across his bedroom floor. He shuffled backward until his back was pressed against the front of his nightstand with the knob from the drawer digging into his shoulder blade. What. The fuck. What the fuck. What the FUCK?!

“Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry—!”

Jack was breathing heavily and his eyes were wide as saucers…but the tiny, scared voice he heard in the back of his mind made him pause. It was unfamiliar yet familiar all at once, unknown but a friend. He swallowed thickly and sat up a little, shifting to his knees.

“…h-hello?”

A small squeak sounded from the other side of the room and Jack saw the Sam pile twitch. He took a deep breath. Jack had an odd feeling that he knew exactly what was going on, as ridiculous as it sounded in his head. This…this was absolutely impossible, but at the same time…it was the only thing that made sense. He stood up slowly.

“Sam?”

It felt stupid, saying it out loud. He was talking to a pile of plushies, why should he expect a response? But then…

“J-Jack?”

Jack took another, shaking breath and inched forward across the bedroom. Sam - real, living Sam - was sitting between a giant Sam plush the size of a basketball, and a few smaller ones that had been hand-knitted by fans. He was shaking where he sat, his optic nerve - tail? - curled around his front as if to protect himself. His eye - pupil? Iris? He was an eye - was wide and it was clear that he was scared, nervous.

Sam looked just as scared as Jack felt, if not more so.

“Y-Yeah,” Jack breathed, nodding. “Yeah. Jack, that’s…that’s me…” He took a few more steps closer to the dresser.

Sam squeaked again and wiggled backward across the dresser’s surface, only unable to go very far because of the giant plush behind him. Jack gasped softly and shook his head, a sudden protectiveness surging through him.

“No…no no no, it’s okay, I’m sorry!” He held up his hands and stopped right in front of the dresser. He crouched until he was more at eye-level - literally - with Sam. “Sorry buddy. Did I…scare ya?”

Sam blinked up at him - how the hell did he blink without having eyelids? - and seemed to nod. The little eyeball had yet to stop shaking. He stared at Jack for a long moment, neither of them saying a word, both of them watching the other. It was Sam who broke the silence.

“…not mad?”

Jack was still trying not to think too hard on the fact that he was hearing a voice in the back of his head and instead just shook his head, a soft smile playing across his lips.

“No, o’ course not,” he spoke softly. A quiet chuckle left him. “Why would I be mad?”

“You…shouted.” The words sounded whispered in the back of his mind and Sam hid behind his tail. Optic nerve? …tail. Jack decided it was a tail. Definitely. That made it cuter.

“Well ya did scare the ever-livin’ shite out o’ me,” Jack admitted with a sheepish smile. He rested his chin on his arms on the edge of the dresser. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen somethin’ like you before.” A pause. “…and I still can’t decide if I’m dreamin’ or not.”

A small, almost childlike giggle came to life in his mind and he couldn’t help the affectionate chuckle that left him at the sound. Sam peeked out from beneath his tail, his expression seeming more cheerful than before, if not a little nervous still. (How did an eyeball show emotions? It was so strange to watch…it was like his iris and pupil moved in a way that they shouldn’t, like they were his sole form of facial expression and they morphed to match his emotions. It was weird as fuck…and so damn cool.)

“If you’re dreaming then so am I,” Sam giggled. He seemed to slowly become more comfortable and he let his tail drop away from his ‘face’. Pupil? Iris.

“That’s exactly what dream-Sam would say,” Jack teased. Teasing and joking. His default.

While it wasn’t the best way to face a problem, it sure made him feel a hell of a lot more comfortable in the face of such an uncertain situation. He glanced toward the still-open door, then back to Sam. What would Sam do if he left to brush his teeth? Would he even still be here at all? Or would this all turn out to be some hallucination brought on my his sleep-deprived and caffeine-fueled state of mind…?

“Jack…?”

“Hm?” Jack blinked his thoughts away and dragged his eyes back to Sam, who kept glancing up at him and away again with a nervous look in his eye. “What’s up?”

“Can I…sleep with you, on the bed? I’m scared…”

And, shit, if that wasn’t the most adorable and precious thing he’d heard in his life. His heart melted and an adoring smile flickered to life on his face. Forget brushing his teeth. One night without clean teeth wouldn’t kill him.

“Of course you can,” Jack nodded, and after a moment’s uncertainty he reached toward Sam. The little eye shrank in on himself nervously, and Jack instantly paused in his motions. He thought about it…then he turned his hand over, palm up. And he waited. He didn’t move, didn’t breath. Sam eyed his hand with uncertainty at first. Jack could almost feel his apprehension, his nervousness…or maybe he really could feel it? It was the same feeling he got when Sam was talking to him, a little nudge in the back of his mind. Jack didn’t have long to ponder it however, because as soon as he felt it, it was gone again. Sam jumped lightly onto Jack’s palm - eyeballs could jump? Who knew? - and he wrapped his tail around one of Jack’s fingers, holding on.

Sam felt almost as one might expect a sentient eyeball to feel, Jack supposed. Smooth, almost soft. Not slimy though. Just…smooth. Like he was holding a baby. A very green, very tiny baby shaped like a ping pong ball.

…yeah, great metaphor Jack. You should definitely give up YouTube to become an author. Definitely.

But beyond that, Sam was surprisingly warm. It was almost comforting, and as Jack carefully carried the little eyeball over to his bed he couldn’t help but wonder why he had even been scared of the little guy in the first place. Come on, it was Sam he was talking about here. He’d never pictured Sam as anything other than friendly and sweet…so why would the real deal be any different?

Forget the fact that Sam shouldn’t even exist at all, because Jack was still wholly convinced that this was just a very realistic dream.

Resigning himself to sleeping in his t-shirt and boxers, Jack tipped Sam onto the other pillow and shucked off his jeans, slipping into bed and flicking off the lights. He felt Sam bounce across the covers a few times before snuggling in near his chest…and as Jack closed his eyes he could have sworn he heard the little eyeball purring.

What a weird dream.

When Jack awoke the next morning, it was to glass breaking somewhere in the apartment. He sat bolt-upright on the bed, eyes flying wide and pulse racing. What the hell…? His gaze flickered rapidly around the room, taking in the scene. The Sam pile on his dresser was still in disarray from last night, but a quick search of his bed didn’t offer him any proof that Sam himself had ever been there. The little eyeball was gone, and for a brief, relieving moment Jack could almost convince himself that it had all been a very realistic, very strange dream.

Almost.

Except for the fact that not too long after he had been awoken by shattering glass, a small, distant voice had started murmuring in the back of his mind in a quick, panicked tone.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no…!”

Jack swallowed thickly. Either this was a very long and very convincing dream…or what he had witnessed last night had been far from fiction. His eyes fell on the barely-opened bedroom door and they remained there, locked on the sliver of light between door and frame. Wake up. Wake up, Jack. He had to wake up…

The Irishman reached across his own body with a shaking hand to pinch at his arm.

The fact that he could feel the pain from it didn’t lessen his fears whatsoever.

Jack took one breath, then another. Sam’s voice in the back of his head was still distant and equally panicked. Obviously something had happened out there…so Jack dragged himself out of bed and shuffled across the bedroom to figure out what had been broken. It was more of an afterthought than anything else that had him stepping into his slippers. Just in case. The hallway beyond his bedroom was illuminated by white ceiling lights, lights that he only now realized he had never turned off last night. He made his way down the hall and turned left at the door to his recording room, passing it by in favor of heading toward the main part of the apartment. The hallway opened out into the living room, and beyond that was a half-wall and a doorway that led to the kitchen.

The kitchen. That’s where Sam’s voice was coming from, Jack realized, because as he drew closer to the doorway the small voice in the back of his head grew slowly in volume, just like it would if Sam had been speaking aloud. God, this was still so strange…

“Sam?”

A squeak sounded from somewhere in the kitchen - an actual squeak, not one in his mind - and Jack ducked through the doorway, looking around. Broken glass sparkled against the edge of the counter and the kitchen floor, the remains of what Jack could easily make out as a glass from the cupboard above the counter. Blue eyes raised slowly until he spotted Sam.

The little eyeball was hiding just barely out of sight on the bottom shelf of the cupboard, his tail tucked around himself and his entire being shaking. He had his eye closed tightly and he looked so very scared. Jack didn’t say anything for a moment.

“…Sam? What happened? You okay, buddy?”

“Sorry sorry sorry sorry–”

“Hey, woah, Sam. Calm down!” Jack stepped carefully over the majority of the glass and reached up, gently lifting Sam out of the cupboard and cradling the little eyeball close to his chest. It was almost automatic, but at the same time he was a little nervous. He didn’t know how to handle the little guy just yet. How gentle did he have to be? Would he hurt Sam if he wasn’t careful? Sam squeaked at being picked up, but he didn’t seem hurt. Just…scared. He buried his ‘face’ into the blue and grey fabric of Jack’s t-shirt, hiding.

“What th’ hell were you tryin’ to do?” Jack asked, glancing at what remained of his glassware. “Those things are heavy for ya. You could’ve gotten hurt!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…d-didn’t mean to break it…just wanted water…”

“Nah, it’s fine, I have more glasses. But you – wait. Water?” Jack asked stupidly. He stared down at Sam’s shaking form for a moment. “Ye mean…to drink?”

“Uh-huh.”

“But you don’t have a mouth.”

The words sounded idiotic leaving his mouth. But really, could you blame him? How the hell did an eyeball drink water?

“I don’t…um…need a mouth.”

“…uh…” Jack blinked blankly at Sam, then sighed. Okay. Sure. Whatever. Sam existed, and that was insane, so why the hell would he need a mouth? He didn’t need a mouth to talk, he’d made that quite apparent already. “…yeah, sure. Hang on…”

Jack reached up into the cupboard and pushed a few things aside, pulling out a small plastic bowl instead. Just in case. He filled it most of the way one-handedly and stepped over the broken glass again, sitting the bowl down on a part of the counter that wasn’t littered with sparkling debris. Sam perked up and shifted in Jack’s hold, peering over the edge of Jack’s hand with a wide eye. He looked back at Jack with something akin to wonder in his gaze, as though Jack helping him was an absolutely magical moment.

“Thank you!”

If Jack hadn’t already fallen into total adoration when it came to his odd little eyeball son, those two words would have finally tipped him over the edge. He chuckled and carefully set Sam on the counter beside the bowl.

“‘Course, bud. No problem.” He smiled softly. “Now stay away from the broken glass, alright? I’ll get it all cleaned up. Don’t want ya hurtin’ yourself, right?”

Sam giggled. Cute kid.

The glass didn’t take long to clean up, not really. It was only a cup. Jack figured Sam had been trying to get it out of the cupboard and it had fallen. How he had even gotten up there was a mystery to Jack, but he could ask about that later. For now he was still processing the fact that Sam was definitely very real, and definitely sitting two feet away on his kitchen counter. Jack leaned the broom against his sink and let his eyes linger on Sam for a moment, the little eyeball splashing happily in the plastic bowl.

How was it possible that Sam even existed? Sam was a fictional character, an imaginary, personified version of his own infected eye from childhood. Sam wasn’t even named until after Jack had been doing YouTube for a few years. It was realistically impossible.

Sam wiggled in the bowl, and Jack now realized that half the water was gone from the container. How…? He paid more attention, and this time he noticed that every so often Sam would close his eye and it looked almost like the little eyeball was taking a breath…then the water would go down a little bit.

“How’re you doin’ that?” he asked, more bluntly than he meant to. Sam blinked his eye open and spun around in the water to look up at Jack.

“Doing what?”

“Drinking…sorta.”

“Oh, um…” Sam blinked and looked down at the water he was sitting in. He was quiet for a moment, thinking, then he looked back up at Jack. “I don’t really know. Kinda like…um…a sponge, I think?”

“A sponge.” A smile twitched at the corner of his lips. “Maybe your name should’ve been Sam Septicsponge instead.”

Sam giggled in the back of Jack’s mind and the YouTuber found himself chuckling as well despite himself. A sponge. So Sam basically absorbed water in order to drink it. That was so fucking cool…and so fucking weird.

It was official. He was gonna need coffee for this.

Oddly enough, going about his usual morning routine with Sam around…wasn’t that strange or different. He made his coffee and some breakfast and sat down to watch some television, all the while thumbing through his social media to catch up on what he’d missed while he was asleep. Sam had hopped up onto his shoulder to go along with him when he left the kitchen, and the little eyeball just ended up curled up on the couch beside Jack while he ate his food. At one point a single Cheerio fell off his spoon onto the tabletop and Sam had perked up, curiosity getting the best of him as he bounced up onto the table. He poked at it with his tail and rolled around it, eyeing it from all sides, then Jack watched in odd fascination while Sam “ate” it. The little eyeball got right up close to the piece of cereal and rolled over it, and it sort of…disintegrated and faded into the green surface of Sam’s…eye. And it was gone. Eaten, apparently.

Jack had to force himself to stop staring after that happened.

Recording was almost the same as before, except now there was a green eyeball sitting on his desk beside his keyboard and beside another fan-made version of Sam that he kept there for fun. Jack had to work a little harder than usual to keep his focus on the game in front of him, especially when he was hearing occasional reactions from Sam in the back of his head. At first he was almost worried that people would suspect something was up, that he wasn’t quite as into his recording as usual…but he brushed it off. It was Trollface Quest. It was a goofy little game, and if anybody did think he was acting out of the ordinary, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, would it?

At some point between recording Trollface Quest and starting up Undertale for the first time, Jack noticed a bit of silence in the room that hadn’t been there before. It took him a moment to realize what the difference was.

Sam. Sam was fast asleep on the corner of the desk, his tail curled around him and his eye closed. Despite himself, Jack felt a small, affectionate smile find its way to his face.

At the start of all of this - in the moment of panic last night, when Jack had seen Sam come to life for the first time - he had been so scared, so panicked. So downright terrified. But now, only half a day later…he was beginning to think that he shouldn’t let himself worry. He shouldn’t let himself be so frightened. This was Sam, after all. Sam, who he had created himself…Sam, who he had always pictured to be a friend of his. Sam wouldn’t hurt him. He never could. The poor little guy had been so scared when he’d first shown up too, as though he thought Jack might throw him out or try to get rid of him. And he was depending on Jack, now.

Having Sam in his life, Jack realized, would be a lot like having a pet, and a lot like having a kid. Sam felt like something in-between the two. A familiar, his mind supplied. A friend he could count on no matter what.

Jack took off his headphones and stood up from his seat, slipped around the blue curtain he had hung up for recording and crossed the room. He picked up the shirt that was still lying there in a crumpled heap from - what - two days ago? - and brought it back to the desk. It only took him a few seconds to wad it up into something akin to a nest, and when he moved Sam off of the hard desk surface and onto the more comfortable bundle of fabric, he heard Sam let out a little contented sigh in the back of his mind.

Yeah…yeah, this could work. This could be really, really good for him, for both of them.

Five minutes later found Jack with his headphones on and his recording in progress, and when the screen appeared for him to name his character in Undertale, he only had to glance at the little nest on the corner of his desk to know what name he would choose.

‘Sam.’

Present Day

Outside the cafe, Jack hit ‘end’ on his phone screen and tucked it into his pocket with a shaking hand, having just finished his call with his mother. He took a slow breath and closed his eyes, focussing on the feeling of Sam’s tail brushing against his fingers from inside his hoodie pocket, focussing on his calming connection in the back of his mind. Sam had been a constant in his life for going on two years now. The thought that the same thing that brought something so pure and happy into his life, could also create something as horrible as Anti…? He shuddered and pushed the thought away. Sam was different. Sam was his friend, his companion. Sam was family.

The Irishman collected himself and stepped back into the cafe, his eyes already seeking out Mark at their table. The other YouTuber looked up from Tim’s pet carrier the moment he saw Jack approaching.

“Want me to hold onto your phone still?”

“…y-yeah. Yeah, actually…that…thanks…” Jack couldn’t get the phone out of his hand quick enough. His breathing and heart rate only began to settle back down to normal once the device was out of sight in Mark’s pocket. He closed his eyes and his free hand tightened into a fist against the tabletop.

“Take a breath, Seán,” Mark said calmly, evenly, a smile in his words. “You did good. How’s your mom?”

“She’s–” Jack broke off and forced himself to breath. Just...breath. Ma. Think about her, not about– “Sh-She’s…” He cleared his throat, forced his fist to uncurl. The action made him wince, his neck still sore from what Anti had– “...she’s good. I told her I missed her, told her to say hi ta Gizmo for me.”

“Did you tell her what happened?”

“Eh…” Jack shrugged sheepishly. “Not...exactly. She hasn’t seen the stream, an’ I warned her not to watch it. I don’t want her seein’ that. She doesn’t watch my videos anyway, but still. Better ta warn her away. An’ it’s not like...not like I can jus’ tell her about my evil alter-ego. I doubt she’d believe me anyway.” A mirthless huff of laughter escaped him. “A few years ago, if anyone had told me I’d be in this situation...shite. I’d call ‘em mad...but I s’ppose after Sam...it’s easier to believe impossible things now, yeah?” He chuckled weakly, and Mark let out a knowing hum.

“Mhm...yeah, I guess so.” A pause. “Have you talked to Robin?”

Jack’s head jerked up, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Not since before the–” The stream. He cleared his throat with a wince. If Mark was suggesting he make another phone call...frankly, he wasn’t sure he had that in him today. “...d-didn’t you talk to him?”

“Well yeah,” Mark nodded, shrugging as he slipped some crackers to Tim. He glanced up to Jack again with a gently pointed look. “But I didn’t tell him the details of what happened, remember? I didn’t tell him what’s really been going on. I think you should do that yourself.”

Jack swallowed, the action catching on a lump in his throat. Tell...Robin? Well, sure, Robin needed to know eventually but...but couldn’t it wait? Or...or better yet, couldn’t Robin just figure it out from the clip on the stream? Or twitter posts, or YouTube comments, or - or–

“You do know you eventually have to tell him everything that’s been happening, right?” Mark’s voice cut through some of his rapidfire thoughts, and Jack flicked his eyes upward toward his friend for the briefest of moments before fixating on the tabletop. “And I mean everything. He’s your closest friend on this side of the world, and your editor. Might not be my place to say so, but he deserves to hear the full truth from you , not draw conclusions from some fanpost on Twitter...or secondhand rumors from another YouTuber.”

“I know,” Jack nodded stiffly, running his free hand through his already-unruly hair while his other continued to seek comfort from just knowing Sam was nearby. The eyeball nuzzled up against his palm inside the hoodie pocket. “I know, I know he does, I know I should tell ‘im but…” He made a pained expression and his fingertips ghosted across the bruised skin of his neck. “...but how do I…how do I explain any of this? How do I apologize for lyin’ to him and hiding all this from him? I...I trusted him with Sam, I should have trusted him with this. And - and - and beyond that–”

It was more than just keeping secrets from his friend. It was more than just not wanting to use his phone right now. It was more than that, because the mere thought of having to explain everything...of having to verbally repeat what had happened in his recording room, what had been happening for weeks...it felt like he would be reliving the moment again. He’d been trying so hard to avoid even thinking about what had happened in too much detail. Explaining all of it, everything, to Robin–

The Irishman’s thoughts were a loud and frantic blur, a quiet panic settling into his chest, just like it had that morning when Mark had brought up the events of the stream. His knee was bouncing beneath the table and his hand - the one not fixated on keeping contact with Sam - had found an imperfection in the table’s surface, his fingers fidgeting and his nails picking at the odd little crack there.

“...beyond that,” he continued hoarsely, “how do I tell him my evil alter-ego came to life and attempted to...to k-kill me, live on camera in front of thousands of people? How do I explain that? How do I – god, the reason I hid it from him in the f-first place, was ‘cause tellin’ somebody else what was h-happening would...it would’ve made it so much more r-real. But then - then the stream happened, and...fuck, Mark. How do I–”

Jack’s voice broke and he ducked his head, fighting back tears he didn’t know were welling in his eyes. He heard Mark’s chair scuff against the cafe floor and felt a warm presence near his right side. He didn’t dare look up.

“I won’t make you tell Robin the truth if you really don’t want to,” Mark told him, and Jack saw the taller man crouch down beside his chair out of the corner of his eye. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder. “But you should try. Maybe not right now, but soon. Robin should be in the loop about all this. I mean, c’mon man, if I tried to keep something like this from Amy or Kathryn - shit. I don’t think I could do it.” It was quiet for a moment, and Jack was vaguely aware of the fact that many people had left since he’d gone out to make his phone call. “I can try and help explain it to him if you want. I’m literally going through the exact same bullshit right now. Minus the attempts on my life, but you know what I mean.”

“You’d do that?” Jack asked, glancing to the side to catch Mark’s gaze. The American’s expression was warm and reassuring, just like his tone of voice, and Jack couldn’t help but feel at least a little hopeful thanks to his friend. Mark smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the motion.

“Hell yeah I’d do that,” Mark nodded. “But you’ve gotta promise me something.”

“What?”

“I wanna see Sam fly.”

And Jack was giggling, the laughter echoed by Sam in the back of his mind. Leave it to Mark to turn a serious situation into something funny and lighthearted.

“Heh...sure. It’s a deal.”

[A/N] So…how about them Egos, huh? ^^ Dude Jack has been going NUTS with the videos recently! I’m happy to see both him and Robin having so much fun with the new, creative content. Good for them! On another note, apologies that this took so long to get out! I had this chapter written a week and a half ago and I honestly forgot to post it. So here! But just a note, future updates WILL be slow. The first few were out with only a day between them, but it’s harder to find time to write now. I’m not giving up on this though! I have ideas! Just you wait and see! <3

Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

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[mcgrathsx-blog]

The truth hurts, the lies kill ↬ McCox

Characters: Charlie Cox & Katie McGrath Setting: Evening @ Katie’s NYC apartment Warnings: N/A Plot: What it seemed like a night in which two best friends were going to reconnect and hang out like old times; quickly turned into something that neither of them planned. Charlie finds out he is the father of Katie’s son. Tagging: @charliethomascoxx

Katie: Okay maybe she didn't have the smartest ideas sometimes, what was she thinking when she asked Charlie to come and pick her up at the airport? When she had a toddler attached to her hip -- how would she explain that? With each passing day, her anxiety grew even more. And along with anxiety, guilt would come. She tried to get rid of those feelings, by placing a barrier between her and Charlie for a while. But she eventually found out, that he was her best friend and that she simply couldn't stay away. But how could she keep her child from him? Something told her that with one look in his eyes, Charlie would know. But maybe that was for another day, she didn't have to worry about that today. She would simply hang out with her friend while Kian was with her brother. What could go wrong? Upon reaching her apartment, she plopped down on the couch and took in a deep breath, just staying like that for a few seconds before she reached for her phone to text her friend. "I'm at my place, the usual? Pizza, beer and movies?"

Charlie: was excited by the fact that Katie was coming to NYC, it felt like he hadn't seen her in person for longer than the time than it had actually been. A smile came over his face when he heard his tone for Katie's texts, grabbing the phone and replying - "Pizza, beer and movies sounds perfect. No girly shit, though. I'm on my way." Charlie knew that she'd probably be rolling her eyes as soon as she read the text and it made him laugh lightly to himself. They had always had one of those friendships where other people wouldn't understand it, but that was okay. No one had to understand them or the way they were with each other. After bundling up in a jacket and hat on his head, the older male went out to grab a cab, taking the twenty minute drive to her place in silence. As soon as he paid and climbed from the car, Charlie made his way up to her apartment and knocked on the door, shuffling from foot to foot, waiting on her to open the door.

Katie: "Try to calm down, try to relax.." Katie kept mumbling to herself over and over again. This was going to be just like their old hangouts right? Except for the fact that she couldn't help but feel edgy and guilty. "Beer.. alcohol fixes everything, right?" She turned to Oisin who was paying no mind to her and instead kept chewing on his toy bone. She stood up from her position on the couch and went straight to the kitchen, to grab a cold beer from the fridge. And right when she was going to open it to take a sip, she heard a knocking on the door. Which made her take a deep breath as she walked to get it. "Hey loser." The green eyed actress greeted him, immediately pulling him to a hug that was longer than necessary before she pulled back. "Sorry, I just hadnt seen you in a while." She said with a soft chuckle, turning around to close the door behind them.

Charlie: "Says the bigger loser," Charlie grumbled as he wrapped his arms around her, leaning his cheek on top of her head before she stepped away. "It has been a while so a hug is warranted." A grin lit up his whole face, not even caring that he was probably staring more than he should be. Every time he saw her, she seemed to get prettier, not that he'd say that out loud and definitely not to her. It would go straight to her head. Instead, clapping his hands together to get some warmth into them, he pulled his jacket off and tossed it onto the back of a chair while tugging his hat from his dark hair. "Where's the beer and what are we watching, mate?" His thoughts automatically starting running through pizza toppings as he asked. "And what pizza? I'm freaking starving!"

Katie: "I'm actually shorter than you are, so joke's on you, mate." Katie said with a coy smile that was very evident on her features, and a chuckle quickly followed. It was quiete ironic how the anxiety that she was feeling just a moment ago, had vanished instead of intensifying with his presence. But that had always been Charlie, he was capable of calming her and making her feel better in a way that no one else could. Probably why she always called him her soulmate, because like he once told her soulmates could come in many forms. And right on cue Oisin came barking and moving his tale from side to side, as a greeting. He had always had a fascination with her friend that she had never understood. "A little impatient, are we?" Katie commented as she walked to the kitchen and returned with two beers, handing one over to him. "Pizza is on it's way. In the mean time I have taytos... or 'chips' how Americans call them." She said with a chuckle.

Charlie: "Hey pal," Charlie stooped down so that he could pet the dog, watching as he tried to lap at his hang with a roughened tongue. Another laugh escaped his lips as he looked up at Katie, rolling his eyes at her. "Not my fault that you're so tiny. Could most likely fit into my pocket and I could carry you around." A dark brow rose, shaking his head at her. The American words for things always confused him but he grinned as he straightened up to his full height, which almost towered over the woman. "Not impatient but beer was promised, so.." When handed the beer, he popped the top on it and took a drink out of it. The liquid washed down his throat and let out a happy sigh. It was nice being around his friend again, a friend that he knew he could count on to have a good time with. "I can wait for the pizza. Chips don't sound very appetizing to me. At all." He walked over to her, pressing the tip of his finger to her nose before moving away from her into the living room. "So tell me everything that has been going on with you. Work, social life, everything. And don't leave anything out!" His excitement was probably annoying but he couldn't help it.

Katie: "Hey, remember who feeds you, don't give out all of your love." Katie scowled at Oisin, in a playful manner of course. Charlie's following words had her rolling her eyes, but yet a smile was very present on her face. She knew that was something that always happened whenever her best friend was around. Even if he annoyed her to no end, at the end of the day she could always count on him.. and there it was, the guilt lingering in the back of her mind. So Katie cleared her throat and drank a big gulp of her beer, walking over to the couch and patting the spot next to her, as an invitation. "Come on, you know I hate talking about me.. how about YOU tell me what have I missed? I haven't finished Season 3 of Daredevil yet but I'm working on it. I did finish The Defenders like in a week, I'll have to say that Jessica Jones was my favorite character.. sorry." She said with a small smile as she leaned back against the couch.

Charlie: looked down at the dog who just wagged it's tail more and went into the living room with then. He plopped down on the couch next to her and made a face, knowing well that she wouldn't talk about herself unless he egged her on. So instead he shrugged his shoulders and talked about himself, which he hated just as much as she did. "Not much goes on in my life except for work, work and more work. But I have a few friends that I'm supposed to hang out with soon. Minka was drunk the other night and told me I'm her favorite guy." Shaking his head, he rolled his eyes. "Girls are weird, though, so she probably tells all of her guy friends that." Hearing her say that she hadn't finished watching season 3 of Daredevil had him narrowing his eyes at her. "You better otherwise I'm going to be so offended." He teased, a smile apparent in his voice as he did. "Jessica Jones is hot, so I don't blame you. The Defenders was fun to film and I was able to hang around with her a lot. Are you jealous?" The right corner of his lips tilted up in a half smile while he took another sip of the beer he still held in his hand.

Katie rested her head on the back of the couch, turning to the side slightly as she listened to Charlie speak, another smile not failing to grace her features. "Or maybe she simply likes you." Katie clarified with a chuckle, "And who knows, you might even get lucky -- if you can't stay for long I understand. I don't want to cock block you.." Katie paused thinking about it for a slight second. "Wait, if it's the other way around, would be be vagina block?.." She was about to elaborate but she was suddenly stopped by a banging on the door, which immediately made her turn to the side. "What on earth.." She furrowed her brows and stood up and almost ran towards the door, and instead of asking who it was, she simply opened the door. It was Rory, holding Kian on his arms. "He's burning up, and he was throwing up.. I told him not to go to the swings after his lunch, but you know your son, he never listens and I'm at lost at to what to do here, Kate-- " Without even thinking twice, she grabbed the toddler who immediately wrapped his arms around his mom. "Jesus, didn't you think about taking him the clinic? We don't know what he could have -- just go, and call Dr. Potter, tell him to come to my place." And before even hearing Rory's response and completely forgetting that Charlie was in the room, Katie rushed to Kian's bedroom. "It's okay, my love, mommy is here.

Charlie: was about to reply that Minka and he were just friends, that nothing went on further than what he had with Kate - two people who teased each other and goofed around together, when the banging started on the door. He thought maybe it was the pizza guy, since she had said that she ordered the pizza earlier. "Maybe.." His words cut short when she saw her brother come in holding a young boy, one that he'd never seen before. And then he heard the words 'your son', which made Charlie rise to his feet and walk over to the door where all the commotion was coming from. His eyes went from Katie to the young child, to her brother who quickly pulled out his phone and began dialing a number. What was going on? Who was the kid? And why was Katie bringing him into the house, into a room that he hadn't noticed before. There were so many questions running through his head - not only questions about what was going on, but also questions about if this was Katie's son then who was the father? Why wasn't he here? "Er.." he mumbled as he walked to the room that Katie had went into and stood in the doorway, watching the woman with the boy. "Should I.. uh.. come back or something?" His brows furrowed over his eyes as he was at a loss of what more to say or do, so he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

Katie: Great, she left him with Rory for two hours and now her son was burning up and throwing up. Katie was doing her hardest to calm herself, not wanting Kian to feel like there was something wrong. Her son was very sensitive, and always did his hardest not to make his mum upset. "mommy, my tummy hurts." Kian spoke with a hint of an Irish accent as he rubbed his eye with his chubby little hand. "I know, baby, it will be okay soon. I promise, you will be a big boy and take the medicine Uncle Rory is bringing -- okay?" Katie completely dismissed Charlie's question and instead turned to look at him and asked, "Could you please open the second drawer and take out the blue Avengers jammies? I'm going to give him a quick shower to get the fever down and I'll be right back." The actress said as she picked up her son. Kian had his chin resting on Katie's shoulder and when he saw Charlie, despite him being sick, he couldn't help to smile and wave at the man before entering the bathroom that was inside the room.

Charlie: moved into the room when started talking about medicine and he nodded when asked to find the.. what was it? Opening the drawer, Charlie began searching for blue Avengers jammies - yes, that's what she had said. When he set them down on the bed, he sat down next to them and put his head in his hands. What the bloody hell was going on here? Why had Katie never told him that she had a child? Was this why she had distanced herself from him? That was insanity! Did she think he would care if she had a baby? His whole body tensed up, trying to think back to all the men that she had told him she had been into in those days. The kid looked to be about what - two or three? He couldn't be sure but that seemed to be the case. So he sat and he waited, not sure what else to do while they were in the bathroom. Charlie could hear the water running so he stood up and walked around the room, it was made for a young boy who enjoyed superheros, he could tell. His own room when he was younger was made up much the same way.

Katie: After a good 10 minutes, Katie finally walked out of the bathroom, with her son covered up in his favorite, ironically enough, Daredevil towel. It didn't take her long to get all dressed up, "Blue." Kian pointed to his long sleeved pajama bottoms. "Yes, my love, those are your blue jammies. You like them right?" Just when Katie turned to look at Charlie and was about to say something before Rory interrupted. "Talked to Dr. Potter, he said it might be a a 24 hour stomach bug. I went to the pharmacy across the street and bought what he instructed, he said that if the symptoms didn't go away by tomorrow to take him to his clinic." Poor Rory was now panting for air as he handed the bottle of syrup to Katie. After what it had seemed like the longest time, Rory turned to look at Charlie and blurted out, "Oh shit." And instead of saying anything else, he simply bolted out of the room.

Charlie: watched the woman and boy come into the room, a Daredevil towel wrapped around his small frame, but it didn't connect to him. It was simply a towel. He was about to once again ask Katie if he should go when Rory came in, hanging over a bottle. A smile came onto his face before quickly disappearing at the 'oh shit' and disappearance. What the fuck was going on? he asked himself again before shrugging it off. He'd catch up with his old friend some time later. "Katie.." he spoke up, going over to sit down on the bed and lifting the discarded town into his hands. "Should I go?" this time he wanted an answer and reached out to take her hand into his. His eyes slanting to the side to look at the little boy, a small smile on his face. The kid was adorable, he could admit that, even if he wasn't sure how to be around a little kid. Taking in a deep breath, he let go of her hand and fully smiled at the child. "Hi, what's your name?" he asked gently.

Katie: Right after Kian took his medicine with a lot of bravery, she started to finally aknowleding Charlie's presence in the room, and with that... everything else that came with it. It was as if an avalanche of feelings began to fall over her. To the point that she started breathing faster, her heart rate going up, when he took her hand. She wasn't able to answer his question, wasn't able to even utter a single word. This is what she had feared for two years and now it was happening. Kian's voice suddenly broke her train of thought. "Kian Thomas McGrath!" He said cheerfuly, despite how pale and weaked he looked. "And it's McGraw.. not McGrath. People usually pronounce it wrong, right momma?" He turned to look at Katie, but she could only nod, while placing a hand on her neck.

Charlie: heard the boy say his full name and his head tilted back fully, not sure what to say about the Thomas part since that was also his middle name. "That's a proper and strong name you have there," he said softly as his eyes moved up to Katie and tried to convey to her that he was upset with her from keeping such a big secret from him but not able to say the words out loud. "I see you like superheros. I did too when I was your age. Back then it was mostly the Hulk and others. Do you like him?" How do you talk to such a young child? Charlie was so lost for what else to say so he became quiet, not wanting to make Kian feel even worse by having to talk.

Katie: Before her son could even reply to Charlie's questions, she bent down by his bed and placed a kiss to his forehead. "Baby, I'll be right back okay. I'll be in the other room, just call my name if you need anything, okay? Mommy has some adult things to discuss." Kian frowned slightly, which was followed by a soft yawn, "Okay." not long after, he got comfortable in his bed and slowly drifted into sleep. "Let's talk outside." Katie muttered, without even looking at Charlie as she stepped out of Kian's room and walked straight to the kitchen, to open a beer bottle and take a long gulp. "Yeah, I have a son. And I think you should go." The raven haired actress stated while giving the man his back, once again, without being able to look at him in the eye.

Katie joined the chat

Charlie: followed her from the room right after he gave Kian another smile and a small, awkward wave of his hand. "So fucking what?" was the first words that came out of his mouth as he stopped just inside the doorway and watched her, his eyes narrowing at her back. How could she act this way? It wasn't /his/ fault that she had kept something this big from him. Weren't they friends? That was the thought that ran through his head as she shook it. "Fine. I'll go. Whatever, Katie." Turning on his heel, he walked back into the living room and started to pull his jacket on before going back, one arm of the jacket dangling. "This is stupid. Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant? Why didn't you talk to me? You know I would have been there for you." That's what friends do, was what he wanted to say. They don't keep secret from each other, was something else he wanted to say. Friends don't lie, was on the tip of his tongue but he bit it back.

Katie remained quiet, looking up at the ceiling and trying her hardest to keep inside the tears that were threatening to escape. She felt like she could finally breathe, the moment she heard him walk back to the door, that's when she turned around... only to notice that he was on his way to her again. And just like that a humorless chuckle escape from her rosy lips, while she shook her head from side to side. God, this was not how she imagined things happening .. in fact, she didn't imagine this happening at all. "Because he's your son." Katie finally said, through greeted teeth. Piercing green eyes looking straight into his. Just like that, a secret she had been holding onto for two years was out in the open, and to this day, she had never felt as raw and vulnerable as she felt in that particular moment.

Charlie: couldn't stop the bubble of laughter from coming out of his mouth. His son? Right. "That's not funny, Katie." Even if he had just laughed, it wasn't something that should be joked about. "If he was mine.. No, he can't be. We never.." He paused as he thought back to that one night, a night that sometimes still flitted into his thoughts from time to time. A night where they were drunk, Katie was upset over something - he didn't remember what it was now - but it had led to them kissing then.. well, the rest is history. Shaking his head now, Charlie slipped his other arm into his jacket and pulled his hat out of his pocket where he had stuffed it to shove down onto his head. "It's.. not possible. So stop." The denials would continue to come, that wasn't something he could stop. His brain just wouldn't connect the two together, not when he had never thought he'd be in this kind of situation.

Katie raised her brows immediately when he began to imply that nothing had ever happened between them, but she slowly nodded her head when it seemed like realization of that night had finally sunk in. Katie had probably gone over this scenario a thousand times in her head, a different one each time, and this one right there was the one that always seemed to win. At least she had been right in something. "We had sex, we were both two horn dogs who didn't use protection, I moved to Vancouver right after that night. When I got there, I realized I was pregnant. You were starting with Daredevil, you were making your life, I was making mine. And I think I misworded things before... you're right, you might have fathered him, but he's not your son." Katie pursed her lips, surprised by how firm her voice had sounded, even when she felt like breaking inside. "You know the way out."

Charlie: blinked several times as he listened to her, his head shaking more because he just couldn't believe what she was saying. He knew that a woman could get pregnant from just once having sex with someone but not.. him. This wasn't something he had ever dreamed of happening. "I want a DNA test," he spoke up roughly as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets. Maybe it was callous, maybe it made him seem like an asshole, maybe.. Charlie didn't know but the one thing he /did/ know was that this was coming out of nowhere and even if it was coming from Katie, he wanted to be one hundred percent sure. "Say you'll do one and then I will leave." His hand came out of his pockets and he now crossed his arms over his chest, his face becoming stubbornly firm. For once there was no smile on his face, no smile about to appear. This was a time where he felt.. rocked. He didn't know what was happening right now but he did know that he wasn't budging until she agreed to this one thing. She had kept this from him and now was springing it on him out of nowhere. So guess what, Katie McGrath, you will meet a brick wall until at least thing goes his way.

Katie: It was Katie's turned to blink now, a humorless laugh following behind. How dare he? "Wow." Was the only thing the girl could utter, as another laugh escape from her. She began to run her hand through her long dark hair as a single tear betrayed her by rolling down her cheek. One that she quickly removed using the back of her hand. She couldn't believe it. Yes, she had played this scenario a thousand times in her head, but it definitely didn't go this way. One thing she knew? That it hurt, it hurt more than she was willing to admit. "I don't want anything from, Charlie. I don't need you -- he -- doesn't need you. I'm not some gold digger going after your money, Jesus." She chuckled without humor again. "In fact, I wasn't planning on telling you. But life has some fucked up ways of messing with me and putting you in the same place as him when I least expect... but you want a DNA test? Fine, but after that you're not seeing MY son again. We don't /need/ you."

Charlie: Her words tore at him, even though he had just been the monster by asking for something that shouldn't have been asked for. "You don't.. need me.." was all that he could say as he nodded his head once, taking it all in. "That's fine." Now a bitter laugh came slipping from his lips as he looked up at her, anger and resentment coming into his eyes. "And we were just talking about getting back to our old ways. Guess that's out of the question now." Turning, he began to walk out of the kitchen, tossing over his shoulder as he did "I'll get the DNA test set up. If he's my son then we'll figure out whatever needs to be figured out. If not.. well.. Good luck." Right at the moment, he didn't care how mean he sounded. He didn't care about the tear that he had seen her wipe away. He didn't fucking care. She had kept something big from him and expected him to roll over and act like it was fine? That isn't how real life worked. And saying that she never would have told him? That stung. Even the most horrible person would want to know they have a child. Then again, he had just told her he didn't believe the boy was his. That wasn't even the point, though. The point was a decent human being would have told the other person.

Katie: She had always been that way. Allowing for her Irish temper to get the best of her, speaking out of anger or pure disappointment and saying things she didn't mean. But hey, she always thought that it was survivial, hurt others before they have the chance to hurt you. But this time? This time her feelings hadn't been spared, they were out in the open. Like an open flesh wound. Every word being spoken stinging her even more. 'If not.. well.. Good luck' upon hearing those words, Katie hadn't realized she had closed her eyes for a short second when those words made her wince. It was amazing how quickly she had managed to fuck things up, this might even earn her a new record. She had been so selfish, beyond belief. "Get your DNA. Tomorrow, even. After that we're going back to Vancouver." Katie repeated, voice filled with determination, and anger -- mostly anger. "And to make things clear again when you do realize he's your son, he doesn't need anything from you -- I don't need anything from you. Goodnight Charlie."

Charlie: nodded once more at her words, not letting the sting from them get to him. He had lived his life without her in it for how long now? She had done that. Katie had created this void and now she had opened it even wider. "Great." That was all he could think to say, not wanting to say more words to open up another argument that he could feel hanging in the air. So instead he kept walking, not looking back at her. Not looking towards the door where Kian now, he was sure, slept from how awful he was feeling tonight. It was a punched to his middle that he might be a father, a father who was being pushed out of his son's life, it the DNA came back and Kian was his. Another bitter laugh came from him as he reached the front door and he wrenched it open, listening to it smack against the wall. After he walked through it, he finally stopped and looked back, his eyes now holding the pain that he wouldn't let his oldest friend see. Reaching back for the doorknob, he pulled the door closed behind him as he walked out and listened as it clicked shut. The click of it sounding like a finality that he was sad to hear. But that was life, wasn't it? It kicked your ass no matter what you did.

[bellexoxoloveblr-blog]

London Adventure: Belle and Cill

Annabelle: Annabelle was excited to finally hang out with a dear friend of hers, the two probably hadnt hung out in a while and she wasnt sure why she didnt make more of a effort but at least now they were here in London. She had her hair straightened out, trying to figure what to wear as she couldnt go to done up after all they were suppose to be exploring. She figured she would go with jeans, sneakers and a off the shoulder white t shirt. She tossled her hair a bit before hearing the doobell as she finished touching up her make up before grabbing her purse and opening the door. She smiled brightly before pulling Cillian in for a hug. "Hi!" she let go finally as she closed the door locking it behind her.

Cillian: Cillian couldn't wait to see Annabelle. There was something about her that always made him feel at ease. A simple smile, a knowing "Oh Cillian," or a pat of the shoulder could bring him back into perspective. He slipped on dark jeans, a white t shirt, and propped up his black, thick raybans on his puff of dark brown hair. After knocking on her door, Cillian waited, tapping his foot to distract himself. When she opened the door, Cillian broke out into a sort of shy smile, moving into her welcoming hug. "Hello, love." he chuckled, hand pressed against the middle of her back before she let go. "You look lovely." he commented, giving her a quick glance over as she locked the door. "I'll drive us to the nearest pub." Cillian offered her his arm, gesturing to his black car with his head.

Annabelle: She couldnt help but feel the little butterflies in her stomach this always happened since the first day on set when she knew she would be working with him. Still do this day she couldnt stop them. She slipped her arm around his as they walked back before glancing off to the distance. "You really just want to get me stupid drunk so i can start singing stupid songs and make you laugh to you cry huh?" she laughed as she gave him a light nudge.

Cillian: Cillian was softening up already. Annabelle always had a warming effect on him, even when they were still getting to know one another. "I'd love to hear you sing. You have a beautiful voice." he reminded her, opening her door for her before going around the car and getting into the driver's seat. "I'm going to be laughing, no crying allowed. This isn't a sad pub night, my love." Cillian winked, backing out and getting on the road. "So, how much did you miss me? Tell me all about it." he teased her.

Annabelle: She got in as she immediately messed with the radio, she didnt know why but it was something she loved doing when she got into a friends car as she buckled up. "You say that now but just wait, im not sure if you have heard me drunk sing before but i feel like this adventure is slowly becoming a pub crawl." she laughed looking in his direction. " Mmmm not as much as i thought, i mean i figured i would be crying your name in my sleep but i havnt so far." she teased back.

Cillian: "I'm ready for your drunken singing!" he exclaimed, taking a turn. "Nothing wrong with pub crawls, love, but I'll be sure to make it a real adventure." he promised. "Not used to women /crying/ my name..." he cut himself off with a smirk, shaking his head and preparing for a slap on the shoulder. Cillian couldn't help himself, she had set it up so perfectly.

Annabelle: She shook her head as she looked out the window in front of them. "Yeah if you dont i will drag you along with me till i get some adventure!" she spoke before feeling her face go red as she slowly turened to him before putting her face in her hands. "Oh my God CIllian!" she couldnt help but laugh. "Okay im just gonna open the door and end it here." she laughed. "Oh god i hate you." she spoke smacking his arm.

Cillian: Cillian rolled his eyes at her fondly. "Oh, I know how stubborn you are. Won't give up until you bloody get what you want." Cillian glanced over to catch her blushing cheeks, grinning with pride at his ability to do that. "You've faked sex with me, darling. You should know," he continued, "you don't hate me, you adore me, and you think that what I just said is funny!"

Annabelle: "Very true, im glad you listen also probably why you will never get rid of me." she gave him a smile as she shook her head. "You are the death of me, you know that? But we both know if those scenes were real it would be the other way around." she had to redeem herself. "I dont adore you, i tolorate you.A big big difference." She laughed looking at him.

Cillian: "I wouldn't dare get rid of you. I think you're the only woman, besides my own mother, that puts up with me so well." Cillian pulled into a parking spot, placing the car in park as she made the second comment. His eyebrow shot up, his eyes cutting over to her. "If those scenes were real, you think I'd be...oh, love, you have no idea who you're talking to." he chuckled, getting out of his seat and walking over to her, helping her out of the car. "Follow me into the club, Ms. Annabelle?"

Annabelle: "My life would be too dull with out you so i gotta put up with you." she winked giving him a hard time. She shook her head reaching for his hand as she got out of the car following him in. She looked around as the vibe was very firmilar she had come here once or twice before but never with him as she nudged him to a spot for two. "Are we going in easy or full force?" she spoke looking up at him.

Cillian: "Very true. Your life would be miserable!" he played along, taking her hand and keeping it as they walked in, knowing how rowdy some men could get starting at this hour. Cillian was protective of those he cared about, even if it was doing something little like this. "Hm, I'll leave it up to you, Belle. What would you like to do."

Annabelle: "Order me whatever you think i would like i wanna try different things tonight, live a little." she smirked patting his hand."Im gonna run to the ladies room while you order up." she smiled letting go of his hand as she walked away, she could hear the whistles and smart remarks as she looked over her shoulder to Cillian. She didnt care about any of it honestly. When it was just them two she forgot the world. As she entered she looked into the mirror fixing everything making sure she still looked presentable. After a few moments she walked back out seeing the handsome devil himself as she smiled to herself. She took a seat grabbing the drink as she sipped it. "Bloody hell, that is um something." she spoke the sour look on her face. "You know what?" she spoke looking at him dead in the eyes, waitng for his response.

Cillian: Cillian watched her as she walked off, his own cheeks turning a bit red at the whistles thrown her way. Why were men so disgusting towards women? It was degrading. It also made Cillian sick with worry. After she entered the bathroom, Cillian sparked a conversation with the lad next to him as he ordered drinks. When she came back, he laughed as she took a drink. "Sweetheart, that's his drink." He pointed to the land next to him, taking the drink and sliding it to the man. "I got us Guinesses, babe." He handed her the real drink. "No, I don't know what. Tell me, what."

Annabelle: Annabelle felt embarrassed as she held her breath. "I am so sorry!" she spoke as she looked at Cillian. "Im gonna get us killed i know it." she laughed a little taking the acutal drink as she sipped on it before approving. "Much better." she laughed as she looked at him.  "You know if we were in another life i would of dated you, and we would of gotten married after a year because i would of known from the start that i was gonna marry you, and we would have three kids, two boys and a little girl, because she would be daddys girl no doubt. In a house in Ireland, because thats close to your home and i know how much you like home and for me its not problem because where you are i am home."she spoke taking another drink. "Yep night hasnt even started and im already crazy." she laughed. "So tell me about that precious kid of yours? " she asked her head laying in her hand.

Cillian: "You're already ruffling feathers, darling." He chuckled, pulling her close as he sipped his drink. The way the men were looking at her made him uncomfortable. As he listened to her, he couldn't help but smile at the thought. His eyebrow was raised slightly, his thoughts following along with her story. It was a nice thought, a beautiful thought, the two of them whisking off to Ireland to have a family. "Not crazy. It's...well, you'd be a beautiful wife." He grinned. "Smart, accomplished, dedicated, wordly. If I had met

Cillian: you sooner, I think we would be married by now." He gulped down his drink at the brutal honesty. "My son and Tom, I'm assuming? They're both great." He laughed. "My son is at futball camp."

Annabelle: She raised an eyebrow as she listened to him. She drew circles on his hand as she contnued to listen.  "Ive already married you once, and i got killed so i would hope a second chance i would actually get to enjoy it."She laughed her eyes looking in his. "You are not so shabby youself. " she laughed. "Oh dear Tommy, he is a character i say, no wonder you two put up with each other for so long.  "How is he enoying futball camp? Does he miss home yet? Are you two going on holiday when he comes back?"

Cillian: "I know it's three times the charm, but maybe for us it's twice." He smiled, wrapping one arm around her waist as he ordered another beer. "Nursing your drink, Wallis?" He teased. "

Cillian: Tommy is a character, but I love him, I do." Tom really was his best friend. He was never going to lose that friendship. "He loves it. He wants to be a soccer star, American style. He doesn't miss home because he is having so much fun, which is good, but I miss him. I want to take him on holiday, but his school starts so close that I don't want to mess him up, you know?"

Annabelle: She scooted in closer to him as she looked at her drink. "2 is one of my favoirte numbers only because sometimes the underdog takes the win." she spoke."Hush you, i can handle my own beer, i just wanna drag this night out as long as possible." she winked bringing his free hand up to hers as she played around. "Im a good beer pong partner ill have you know. Jared taught me all i need to know." she spoke mentioning her best friend. "Awe bless him, im sure if he has his fathers dedication, he will achieve anything. As for tom well i think he is doing quite well for himself. Im so happy for both of you honestly." she smiled. "I completly understand but hey if you ever get to lonely you ACTUALLY have a key to my place so you are no bother what so ever." she smiled.

Cillian: "Are you saying I'm the underdog in this scenario?" He gasped, faking shock just to mess with her. Normally, Cillian wouldn't entertain this sort of conversation, but he couldn't stop himself with her. "Drag this night out? Looks like someone really wants to spend time with me, hm? I won't name names, don't worry." he winked, his throat warmed by the beer. "If Jared taught you, then you probably are good, I'll need you for any beer pong teams I may find myself in." Cillian said. "Thank you, that's so kind of you to say. You're the sweetest, Belle." he cheered. "I'm going to come crash at your place all the time then. If I've got the key, why not use it?"

Annabelle: "Ofcourse not, your number one." she nudged him joking with him. She knew this would never happen, he probably had his eye on someone else as he should, she was just a tornado and the last thing she needed was destorying her friendship with Cillian. "Why in hell would i wanna spend all night with you, I mean fuck i definatly dont wanna cuddle you up or anything thats just obsured. " she scoffed drinking her beer. "I miss him i need to plan a trip to L.A to visit. Have you been yet?" she asked. "Your more than welcome too love, ill make sure the guest bed is set up." she winked.

Cillian: "I better be number one." Cillian tilted his head to the side, staring at her for a prolonged moment. "You don't? Are...you sure?" he asked, brushing his lips against her ear as he spoke, before pulling back and taking a sip of his drink. "I've been to LA a few times, spend a week or two there before coming here. You should definitely go." he shrugged. "Oh, the guest bed? How fancy."

Annabelle: "In this case you better win." she spoke finishing the rest of her drink it took some doing and nearly 45 mins later but she passed it up as she ordered one more. She froze a bit, he had to have known what he did to her but she wasnt gonna play nice either. She gulped as she looked back at him. She looked him in the eyes her hand gently placed close to his face smoothing over his cheek.  "I defintly dont wanna bring you home, and take you to my nice king size bed, slip your shirt off and trace circles on your chest, thats definatly not whats on my mind Cillian." she smiled pulling back.  "I think i will, did you go see your gilfriend?" she asked studing his face for his answer. She honestly didnt know if he had one or not but this was her way of knowing for sure. "Only the best for you babe, ill make sure to tuck you in."

Cillian: "I'll play my hardest, then." he replied back, watching her finally finish her drink. He wanted to let out a laugh, but figured he would want to time those more appropriately. Licking the rim of his cup, so the beer wouldn't drip out, Cillian watched for her reaction, only to be caught off guard as she pressed her hand against his cheek. "You don't? Well, then I guess I don't want you to do that to me. I wouldn't want you to bring me home so I could hold you against my chest. Definitely not." At her next statement, he almost choked. "I would have, if I had a girlfriend." Now he laughed, the thought ridiculous. "Bless you, you're a fucking angel."

Annabelle: "Thats all i can ask." she smiled clearing her throat. As the bartender brought back the drink she took a long sip licking the foam off her lip. "Good cause i wouldnt want any of that." she paused as her hand made it to the back of his head as she leaned forward kissing the top of his head." Excuse me im gonna go play a song." she smiled as she got up her hand slipping off his chest before looking at the juke box trying to find something, When she did she walked back taking her seat.  She only nodded. "My horns keep my halo up." she bursted into laughter as she ordered two shots. " We are going big Cillian can you handle it?" she questioned.

Cillian: Cillian rolled his eyes as she kissed the top of his head, catching on to her little game. "I'm sure you'd want none of it." he finally replied back to her, taking a deep breath as she walked away to play a song. He pressed his lips together as he waited for her return, only to hear her order two shots. "Oh, I'm plenty ready." he scoffed. "I think the real question is...can you handle it?"

Annabelle: "I dont think i can, but we are gonna see anyways, im a terrible light weight!

Annabelle: She handed the drink over to him as she counted to three before cheering. "What did you think?"

Cillian: Cillian took the shot at her go, swallowing the hard liquid. It wasn't the best taste, but he swallowed it with ease. "Not the best. But, if this will do the trick, then why not?" he ordered them a different shot this time, smirking as he handed her the shot before taking his second.

Annabelle: Annabelle was a super light weight and to make things worse one shot and she was done but two you were asking for party annabelle. After dowing the shot she shook her head before grabbing the other one. "I hope this one is much better, cause i cant pick for shit." she laughed taking the second one before looking at Cillian. "Do we dare do a third?"

Cillian: He couldn't help but laugh at her loosening up after her shot. The second was a doozy too, and he knew he needed to cut her off. "One more, then we're done. I'm worried you can't handle it." he patted her head, before getting their last round of shots, taking hers and placing it against her lips playfully.

Annabelle: She took a deep breath preparing herself before laughing as she waited for him to tilt the cup back. "whooo man. I want to dance can we dance?" she asked pleading him.

Cillian: Cillian tipped back the cup before he took his last shot, then held his hand out for her. "If you want to dance, we'll dance."

Annabelle: She smiled taking his hand as she pulled him to the dance floor, luckily a slower song came on as she held onto him swaying back and forth.  She looked up at him as she whispered in his ear. "I hope you know i havnt forgotten about our adventure." she smiled.

Cillian: Cillian could have laughed once again at the slow song, but instead, he followed her lead. He wrapped his arms around her, swaying to the rhythm of the song. "I haven't forgotten." he assured her. "What have you got in mind?"

Annabelle: "The next bar we go to we have to use fake names, I know cheesey but   ive always wnated to do that, go on a date as two completly different people." she looked practcally feeling his eyes roll.

Cillian: "That's what you want? A new identity?" he thought about it for a moment. "Hell, why not." he concluded. "When would you like to leavE?"

Annabelle: "lets leave now!" she grabbed his hand as she pulled some cash from her purse handing it to the bar man before taking Cillian again. She knew he would throw a fit but she figured if she would catch him off guard it would be okay.  As the two walked outside she walked to his car waiting for him to open it. "You know what else i want to do, go to a haunted house." she spoke looking at him.

Cillian: Cillian was lucky he was a heavy drinker. "Okay, if we drink anymore, it'll need to be at my place. Any more, and I can't drive." he advised her, opening her door before slipping into his own seat. "You..want to go to a haunted house? Don't know if there is one nearby."

Annabelle: "Theres one on garner road! Ive had a few cast mates talk about its abandoned, lets go check it out before your unable to drive and we have to finish up our adventure passed out on the couch." " she spoke buckling up her seat belt laughing

Cillian: "Oh bloody Christ. You want to see an abandoned house?" Cillian was fairly religious, he grew up Catholic. He wasn't one to dance with the devil. "If that is really what you want." he gave in, turning the car on and driving.

Annabelle: "Im not gonna make you do something you dont want to." she spoke taking his hand. "you can take us to the next bar and i can bethal ." she laughed shaking her head.

Cillian: "Is this really what you want to do? To see an abandoned house?" he asked. "I'd be willing to go there. Go in? Probably not. But we can drive there and look around."

Annabelle: "I really do but im not gonna make you go in with me if you are scared. I can do it any other time. Lets just go to the other pub!" she smiled at him reasuring him she was okay with not going.

Cillian: "No, I promised you an adventure. You'll get one." He looked around, found Garner road, and took a turn. "Point the house out to me."

Annabelle: She wasnt sure if it was the alchol taking over her because she was more excited than scared but that all changed when she saw the beaten down house as Cillian drove up to it. "Fuck right there." she pointed. She took a deep breath as he pulled in, before looking over at him. "Okay if im not back in 15 mins just know i love you okay." she took another breath as she grabbed her phone openeing the door before walking off.

Cillian: Cillian didn't feel right about her walking off by herself. Against his better judgment, he scrambled out of the car. "Annabelle, come on." he jogged up to her. "You can't go in alone."

Annabelle: "Im not denying your way into heaven, go back in the car, ill be fine!" she nudged him.

Cillian: "You're drunk and being super weird." he chuckled. "Why don't you just look? Don't go inside."

Annabelle: "Im going inside you can come or not."she looked at him letting his arm go before walking through the door she used her phone as a flashlight trying to look around before seeing something move. "Ahhhh" she screamed jumping back as she fell to the floor. Once she got back up she notice it was just a cat . "Oh my god im gonna die." she whispered to herself.

Cillian: Cillian rubbed his head as she went inside. Why was she so insistent on this? When he heard her scream, he rushed inside, finding her getting up. "What's going on? What happened?" he asked breathlessly. "Annabelle."

Annabelle: "Yeah no im fine come on lets go." she spoke leading him outside again back to the car. "that was enough excitment for one night.  "You choose the next place." she spoke looking at the house than back at him.

Cillian: Cillian grabbed onto her arm so he could keep her nearby, walking outside with her. "Good choice. Let's go somewhere else." he agreed, nodding his head. "Me? Well, do you want to drink, or?"

Annabelle: "Im down for whatever this night is for fun, so im good with drinking but if you dont wanna drive then we can go back to either yours or my place." she spoke looking at him.

Cillian: Cillian got in the car, turning it on so they could leave that hell hole. He thought for a moment. "Would you like to..come to my place?" he asked.

Annabelle: She was still catching her breath before placing her hands up. "To Cillians place!" she yelled a bit. " Okay that was loud im sorry love, those shots got me... are you disapointed?" she asked looking at him

Cillian: Cillian happily began driving. "Disappointed? About...what?"

Annabelle: "that im a lightweight?" she frowned.

Cillian: "Oh, no. It's actually very funny." he commented. "You're entertaining."

Annabelle: " I can be, also what is in your fridge I need bread and beer." she asked.

Cillian: "I have...both. Why bread?" he couldn't help but ask. "That's probably not your best bet."

Annabelle: "I need something to soak up this or else im gonna attack you and we can not have that no sir." she spoke . "Wait why not?"

Cillian: "Attack me? I mean, that would mean two different things." he pointed out. "Bread isn't the best soaking mechanism. I'd found that nuts really do work. And pasta."

Annabelle: "The bad way Cil the bad way." she laughed as she twirled around one of her strands of hair. "Do you have either of those?" shestoped herself shaking her head. "Dont even answer that

Cillian: "The bad way? Hm, fine." Cillian huffed. "I have both of those...why didn't you want me to answeR?"

Annabelle: "Dont huff at me. "she joked. "I figured you would use this as another way to get me with a joke." she looked at him.

Cillian: "If I had stopped at nuts, yes. Pasta? Nope. Can't do anything with that."

Annabelle: "Just drive , before i walk myself into any more puns."

Cillian: "I'm driving, Christ." he rolled his eyes, before finally pulling into his driveway. Getting out of the car, he once again went over to her door and opened it for her.

Annabelle: She didnt know why but picking on him was another hobby of hers as she got out following him to the house. She imideatly went to the fridge grabbing two beers before popping them open as she handed him one. ""So thoughts on the  night so far??" she asked leaning agaisnt the counter.

Cillian: Cillian ran his hand threw his hair as they entered his home. Knowing she'd go straight to the fridge for beer, he settled into a bar seat, elbows digging into the little island in his kitchen. "Exciting. Company is a drag though." he teased, winking at her.

Annabelle: She sat next to him as she took a drink setting it down. "You are such a ass you know that?"

Cillian: "Am I? Must not be too bad if you're still here with me." he paused. "You did talk about what your life would be like married to me, so you must like asses."

Annabelle: She looked at the bottle and back at him. " I did didnt i? NO different than being married to thomas shelby just letting you know im not taking no shit either." she laughed.

Cillian: "You did. Well, I'm not too much like Tommy. I'm...not a PTSD ridden World War 1 veteran." he started off. "I'm not cruel and sometimes heartless. I'm a normal lad."

Annabelle: " A normal lad with a big heart a cute kid, beautiful blue eyes a hug that never makes you want to let go." she spoke before reazling she was rambling. "Whoops sorry rambling here."

Cillian: Cillian's lips parted, jaw slightly slack in surprise at her words. "Well, thank you. You...humble me, you really do." he smiled, taking a beer finally. He took a big gulp.

Annabelle: She tucked her hair back as she looked off. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

Cillian: "Sure. Go scroll Netflix and pick what you want." He stood up and handed her a remote. "I'll get some nuts for you."

Annabelle: "Your such a doll." she rolled her eyes as she got up heading into the living room. She removed her shoes crawling into the couch as she grabbed the throw over the couch wrapping herself up before scrolling through the options.  She decided to go with a comedy as she waited for Cillian to get back.

Cillian: Cillian grabbed a bowl and poured some almonds inside. He walked over to the couch, slipping off his shoes, and planted himself next to her. "Here," he handed her the bowl. "Enjoy."

Annabelle: "Thank you love." she grabbed the bowl placing it in her lap as she pressed play. "This one looks funny, so lets hope!" she spoke looking at him before reaching over to put the remote on the table.

Cillian: Cillian settled into the couch silently, eyes glued on the TV in anticipation for her pick. It was nice, having this alone time with her. Cillian enjoyed peaceful moments like this.

Annabelle: She took a few almonds as she popped them in her mouth before finishing up and placing them back on the table. Slowly she decided she would just go for it as she laid her head on his shoulder. "Is this okay? she asked looking at him.

Cillian: Cillian could hear her pick up a few almonds, smiling to himself because he had convinced her to eat them. It felt like a victory. He felt her head  on his shoulder, taking in a deep breath. "It's fine." he assured her, patting her hand gently. "You know I don't mind."

Annabelle: She nuzzled in before focosing on the show. It actually ended up being a pretty good night, a night she needed. And the fact that Cillian spent it with her made her even more happy.

Cillian: Cillian readjusted her so his arm was hanging around her shoulder. His back relaxed into the plush of the couch, he closed his eyes for a moment. "Did you mean it? What you said about your other life where you'd marry me?"

Annabelle: She blinked a few times  before looking up at him as she took a deep breath. She never spoken her feelings for him, not in a serious term where it was just them two, and she was serious about it. "I really would, idk what it is about you but i just feel so at ease so happy. I didnt get that kind of happiness with Chris. And believe me i was happy i really was but with you even just hanging out on set going over lines and idk. I know we dont have a chance in this life but i just cant help but wonder what if  we did meet sooner you know?" she spoke.

Cillian: Cillian swallowed hard. "I wonder about that too. I mean, look at me now. Divorced. One child, a child I love with my entire heart and would die for. But you know.. I wanted at least two." he sighed. "You're great, annabelle. Too great. You deserve an amazing man."

Annabelle: She held her breath befoe choosing her words. "Cillian i wish you could see how great you are you tuly are. I really dont understand why you dont see how truly amazing you are." she huffed a bit.

Cillian: "Don't take me too seriously. It's just one of those things you accept in life." He ran his fingers up and down her upper arm, finding a soothing rhythm.

Annabelle: She lightly giggled leaning closer into his body as she looked at his arm. "Well if you ever do decide to take a chance on my than you know where ill be and you obviously know my answer. However we all have flaws, but its just a matter of who you dont mind seeing them as well." she spoke tracing a freckle on his arm.

Cillian: Cillian furrowed his brows. "Wait, are you serious? You're saying...you would be with me? Like, dating and all that shit?" God, they must be drunk. "Anna, be careful."

Annabelle: She leaned back as she was looking the older male  over. " Well i assume that is what one does before they get married. " she looked at his hand than back at him. She took another breath. "I really like you Cillian not in the brother sister  good freind kinda way in the i really want to kiss you right now kinda way. I have for so long. But i know that you musten feel the same but  yes to answer your question i would. I really would."

Cillian: Cillian scratched his head for a moment. "This is a lot. We've been drinking, this isn't a conversation we could be having. Too many...other factors involved." Like her recent breakup with Chris, which could possibly cause her to act out. Could it? There was that, the alcohol, their time apart that made everything much more sensitive. "I want to kiss you too...but I can't. I have too much respect for you to drunkenly do something with you."

Annabelle: She reached for his face as she held it in her hands. "Cillian.. breath. I know what i said, and i will happily tell it to you tomorrow when im sober.  Whether or not you want to here it is another question only you can answer. Im not asking anything of you, i promise im not im just telling you my honest raw thoughts. I broke up with Chris because i knew i had feelings for you but thats not fair to him, i cant be with someone i cant give one hundrend percent of my heart too. I just couldnt." she finally let go as she took her seat back. "Im not asking of anything Cil, i just want you to know and now you do." she spoke softly looing at him.

Cillian: Cillian could hardly process what was going on. He went from being a sad and alone single divorcee throwing himself into his work to...Natalie, Mila, then Richard, and now Annabelle. Annabelle's was the most shocking, though. "Oh Christ...I broke up your relationship?" Here it came. Cillian locked his jaw and looked past her, Catholic guilt filling him to the brim. "Fuck, I'm so sorry. I...wow."

Annabelle: Annabelle shook her head as she got up. "Im sorry ive clearly fucked this all up, please please dont fell bad okay please. Um  Im just gonna go. Im so sorry." she spoke slipping on her shoes as she made her way to the kitchen.

Cillian: "Annabelle, don't be ridiculous." he stood up. "It's late, you've been drinking. Stay here." he grabbed her hands. "Please? Please stay here."

Annabelle: She took a deep breath. "Fine, ill be in the guest room if you need me." she gave him a light smile.

Cillian: "Are you upset? I didn't mean to ruin the evening. Please believe me." he felt ridiculous. "My emotions got the best of me. It's not you, okay? Please."

Annabelle: "Im not upset with you im upset with me, but if i didnt say those things they would of come out eventually. I just wish you would believe me." she looked up at him.

Cillian: "Would you believe me if I said it was all too good to be true?" he asked, smiling softly down at her. "I just...don't want to lose you."

Annabelle: "Darling you cant lose me, im one of those pest who never leaves." she crossed her arms. "So can i ask one question?"

Cillian: Cillian took a deep breath. "You can ask. Who knows if I'll be able to answer."

Annabelle: "Whos the lucky person?" she asked looking at him. "Dont say there isnt one cause i know there is , because when i hear the line i dont wanna lose you, i hear i dont wanna lose you but theres someone else."

Cillian: Cillian rubbed his eyes. "Honestly? You. Mila. Everyone at this fucking point." He placed his hands in his pockets. "It's not about me wanting someone else. It's about having quite a few people express feelings for me and it's overwhelming."

Annabelle: She was a bit shocked as she had just spoken with the girl ealier, now she felt like a total fraud. "Im- uh " she run her fingers through her hair as she walked to the fridge grabbing a water bottle. " she looked at it than at him as she walked closer. "I really dont know what to say to that other than im sorry for adding more stress. And because i care for you so much, im not gonna be selfish, so just forget what i said, there are absoulty no hard feelings we can just pretend this never happened okay?" she took the top off taking  a long gulp.

Cillian: Cillian bit his lip for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he let one hand drop from his pocket. "Come here." he mumbled, extending out his hand.

Annabelle: She wanted to fight him on this but instead her body walked foward with out her. She took his hand letting it lead her to him.

Annabelle: "I mean it, i promise not a word."

Cillian: Cillian pulled her close to him, wrapping his free arm around her. "SShhh. Ssshh, love." he murmured. "Don't."

Annabelle: All she could do was wrap her arms around him burring her head into him thinking what a fool she must be right now.

Cillian: Cillian moved both arms around her now, holding her close to him. He rested his cheek on top of her head, just living the moment while he could. She deserved a better man. Someone unlike him, someone who wasn't damaged goods like he was.

Annabelle: She pulled back slightly as she reached for her water bottle. "Im gonna go to bed, sleep tight love, ill talk to you tomorrow." she smiled as she walked away making her way to the bedroom.

Cillian: "Goodnight." he called, sighing.