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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 4 years

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Banished (Part 49)

~Banished~

Word Count: 11K (Someone stop me, I have a problem)

~Master~

*Based off episode 4x04 of the 100, A Lie Guarded*

Previously...

You snapped your head to her, not stopping the tears as Clarke swallowed back her fears. “Ok.” She began. “Ok…. I think- I think your dad was infertile before you were conceived. I think- I don’t think your dad is your real father.” You didn’t know what to do, you could only stand there listening to Clarke tell you the one thing you were absolutely terrified of. Clarke’s heart ached for you. “I’ll get my mom. She’ll know.” You didn’t feel yourself let go of Clarke, but suddenly she was gone and you were all alone. You could feel your breathing start to increase, your head spinning as you feel to the ground, pulling your knees to your chest and letting out every sob you can that racked through your body. You couldn’t breathe, but you couldn’t focus on that because there was one thought rushing through your head.

Who the hell were you?

—

It had been a few days since you found out the truth about your identity. Well, the truth putting it lightly. Clarke had gone and gotten her mother just like she said, and when they came back you were right where Clarke had left you, tears dried on your face as Abby kneeled in front of you.

“Y/N? Y/N, look at me.” She took her flashlight, shining into your eyes to see you were responsive, which in Abby’s eyes was great. “Y/N? Can you hear me?” She started snapping in front of your face and shortly you were becoming aware, your breathing speeding up as you squirmed. She put her hand on your cheek, getting you to look at her as she tried to calm you.

“I’m fine!” You screamed out, burying your head in your knees. Abby took a step back, giving you space as Clarke watched you with worry.

“Y/N?” Clarke asked as you slowly uncurled yourself, remaining on the ground as you looked at the Griffin’s standing above you.

“Show her.” You whispered, your throat hurting a little from your last outburst. Clarke nodded, picking up the tablet that laid on the ground next to you. Her mom was furrowing her brows as she looked between you and tablet, unaware of the secret you had just learned. As soon Clarke had the file pulled up again Abby took the device, reading over the words. “He’s not my dad.” You told her as your eyes locked on the ground. She didn’t say anything, opting to stay quiet as she turned around. You took a deep breath, pushing yourself up onto your already shaking legs. “Abby. Did you know?”

It was a dumb question, sure, but Abby was a doctor. She had access to medical records and no doubt could’ve known.

“I didn’t.” She assured you. It made sense, you thought. To Abby, your parents were no one, just another couple who apparently couldn’t have a child together, yet did.

“Is it possible he was tested after Y/N was born?” Clarke asked her, trying to disprove her theory but Abby ruined your hopes. He would’ve been tested before you were born and Abby had no idea what happened. You didn’t want to hear much more.

You tugged Bellamy’s jacket closer to you stumbled out of the room, hearing Clarke call after you but you didn’t stop as you made your way recklessly through the empty halls of the Ark, grabbing onto walls to support you until you wound up at a familiar door.

Bellamy’s door.

You knocked on it, not stopping until it swung open. You didn’t bother waiting for an invite in as you pushed inside, running your hands through your hair and pulling. Bellamy didn’t know what you were doing there, especially in the middle of the night, looking completely distressed. He wasn’t going to turn you away though. He slammed his door, coming over to you and grabbing your hands to lead you to the bed.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Are you alright?” He asked you, seeing you bite your trembling lip. He thought for a moment you’d say you were fine, just like you always do to not show your emotions. But this time you didn’t. Instead you shook your head and fell into tears, collapsing onto Bellamy. He wrapped his arms around you and held the back of your head. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Y/N. I’m here. I’m always here.”

When you finally stopped crying, you told him everything, from the start of the voice in your head all the way to your father, well, the man you thought was your father. Bellamy didn’t know what to say. You’ve never cried like this, at least not in front of him. It hurt.

“I thought I knew who I was. My head is all sorts of crazy and I thought the one thing I still had after all these years of losing my sanity was that I still had my name.” You let out a bitter laugh as Bellamy reached up to wipe away your tears. “If I’m not Y/N Y/L/N, then who am I?”

“You’re Y/N.” Bellamy told you, getting you to look up into his brown eyes. “The Y/N who has been a pain in my ass since the moment we opened the dropship doors. The same Y/N who saved me from a panther despite hating me.” You let out a genuine laugh, Bellamy’s heart soaring at the sight of your smile, despite the tears drying on your face. “You’re the Y/N who believed in me countless of times when I didn’t deserve it. That’s who you are. A name means nothing.”

You stayed quiet, both of you looking at each other intensely as you cracked another smile. “I didn’t hate you.” You whispered, earning a look of confusion from Bellamy. “The panther. I didn’t hate you, even if you had almost let me die afterwards.” He rolled his eyes, happy to see you could sort of joke after your breakdown. The feeling didn’t last long though as your face fell again, looking down to your hands as you played with your fingers. Bellamy stopped you, reaching forwards and grabbing both of your hands as you continued to stare. “I never hated you.”

“That’s good.” He told you as you looked at him through your eyelashes, seeing him now being the one to look at your interjoining hands. “Because I never hated you too.”

“Well, I never gave you a reason too.” He heard you sniffle as you wiped your tears onto your shoulder.

“That’s fair.” Bellamy took a deep breath, unknowingly squeezing your hands a little tighter. “What I’m trying to say is,” He looked up, a mistake really as his words were caught on his tongue. The 3-word phrase he wanted to say seeming too daunting for the moment after your breakdown as he settled. “I care about you.”

You tried to ignore the way you longed for Bellamy to say the words you were too frightened to say. “I care about you too.” You whispered. You stayed in Bellamy’s room that night.

Now, almost a week since that night, you barely left your room and when you did, you were often in Bellamy’s room where you had continued to spend most of your nights as well. Bellamy never minded, instead he sought comfort in the knowledge you went to him for comfort. He knew he had fallen for you, but he was only falling more every time he woke up and saw you lying next to him, your eyes closed peacefully as your chest moved slowly up and down in your sleep.

This morning, Bellamy woke up earlier to see you asleep next to him and he pushed himself up on his elbows to peer down at you. He was silent as to not wake you, his focus shifting from being aware of your closeness to your warmth. Your hair fell into your face as you moved a little, completely unknown to the fact Bellamy was watching you with a smile. He brushed the hair out of your face, his thumb tickling your cheekbone as you started to wake a little, eye slowly fluttering open to see Bellamy’s brown orbs staring back at you. It warmed your heart to see them first thing in the morning.

Bellamy’s hand still playing with your hair tucked behind your ear. “Were you watching me sleep Blake?” you joked, pulling the definitely-not-made-for-two-people blanket closer to you.

“Depends.” He mumbled, making you cock your head. “Would that be weird?” Your face scrunched into a laugh as Bellamy joined you, letting his head fall lightly onto your shoulder before he heard your laughs slowly stop and your hand come up to his hair, gently running through it as Bellamy pulled back enough to look at you. Your eyes were zoned out and staring off in space. “What are you thinking about?”

“Hmmm?” you asked, pulling yourself back to this moment, Bellamy laying above you as you smiled. “Nothing. I’m just enjoying this. Us.” Bellamy nodded, letting another smile spread onto his face as you both just stayed there in close proximity to each other, feeling the other breathe as your thoughts got away again. “Bell, what are we?” you blurted out, tired of this game you were playing with your feelings. You needed a constant in your life and you needed it to be Bellamy.

Bellamy knew what you were asking, the same question he had been asking since he’s feelings began to get out of hand and you became the person on his mind more than everyone. “What do you want to be?”

You didn’t respond with your words. Instead, you pushed yourself upon the bed, your lips against Bellamy’s perfectly as you show him what you wanted. Bellamy kissed back eagerly, his free hand not holding himself up went around your waist as he slowly moved you back down to the mattress, hovering completely above you before pulling away. You breathed heavily, your hand moving to hold Bellamy’s cheek as you looked into his eyes again with a smile. He let out a soft chuckle, turning his head slightly to kiss your palm.

“I guess that answers my question.” He mumbled into your skin as you bit your lip, letting your eyes close in bliss. Your worry that Bellamy wouldn’t want the same was for nothing because here you both were, no distractions and finally, officially-

“Wait, this means we’re dating right?” you clarified, realizing even as amazing as the kiss was, you needed a definitive answer.

Bellamy’s face faltered, only sending that worry right through you again. “Dating? I thought we just agreed to be enemies?” Confusion hit you for a second before Bellamy smirked and you relaxed.

“Oh, you think you’re funny, huh?” Bellamy shrugged, making you roll your eyes fondly and push him off you. “Fine then, no girlfriend for you.”

The joking stopped as soon as Bellamy heard you say those words. “Will you be my girlfriend, Y/N?” You stopped pushing him away, your hands on his chest as you smiled to him and nodded. You could feel his heart beat against your palms as he let out a breath of relief, falling into you and kissing you again. You laughed against the kiss while feeling him on top you. The last few minutes felt like a dream to you and with the end of the world barely a few months away, it was a dream you wished you could stay in for longer.

“Bellamy!” A pounding came at the door as you and Bellamy jumped having not expected an interruption. “Bellamy get a move on!” You realized it was Raven at the door, her poundings getting louder as you turned to Bellamy for an explanation. He too was confused for a minute before sighing.

“I’m scheduled for a hunt today.” He told you and you deflated a little, wanting to spend time in bed with your now boyfriend. He turned to the door. “Give me a minute!”

“Now Bellamy!” Raven shouted back as you giggled, feeling Bellamy bury his head in the crook of your neck disappointedly.

“You better go.” You whispered in his ear, feeling him nod but not move. “Bell, I’m serious! Harper was told me a while ago that when Monty and her started dating, Raven walked in on them post sex. The girl has no chill when it comes to getting work done.” Bellamy chuckled against your neck at your story, pressing a soft kiss against your skin before Raven started knocking again.

Bellamy groaned and sat up, looking down at you laying in his bed with your hair all messed up. Despite the past couple of days for you, you looked happy and Bellamy was glad he could help with that. Raven had one big knock as Bellamy rolled his eyes. “Alright I’m going!”

He got off the bed, changing his shirt and almost leaving before you stopped him. “You forgot your jacket.”

“You’re not going to wear it?” He asked. Since Bellamy let you borrow it to sleep that day in the office, you had worn it more than he had.

“I would, but I’m not the one leaving.” You stood up, grabbing his jacket and throwing at him. Bellamy caught it, hiding his smile as he shrugged it on. Raven’s knocking finally stopped as you chuckled and fell back on the bed.

“You could come with me, you know. It’ll only be a few hours.” He offered, watching you prop yourself up on your elbows. He knew your answer would be no based on the look on your face. He shook his head, telling you it was fine before you even said anything.

“Be safe okay? Don’t get your ass in any trouble.” You joked, hearing his laugh as he walked back to the bed to you, making you sit fully up as he cupped your face and leaned down to kiss you one last time. You hummed into the kiss before he pulled away. “You know, I think I could use to this boyfriend and girlfriend thing.” You teased as pushed him to the door.

“I think I could to.” Bellamy agreed. Right before he got to the door, he stopped and slowly turned to look back at you burying yourself under his covers again. He was going to do it. You already took the first step, it was up to him to take the next. “Y/N?” You turned to him, seeing him fidget his hands as you furrowed your brows. “I love-“

‘Bellamy, let’s go!” He groaned, turning to glare at Raven through the door as he heard you laugh.

“I told you. The girl’s relentless.” Bellamy cracked a smile but he didn’t laugh. “What we’re you going to say?” You asked, trying to think of the possibilities of a sentence starting in ‘I love’ and not ending in ‘you’. Bellamy hesitated, but shook his head, telling you he’ll tell you later. You gave him sad nod before he left the door and you heard Raven continue to yell at him outside.

You settled into the bed again, looking up at the ceiling as you closed your eyes and smiled to yourself.

“I knew you loved him.” Your eyes shot open and you looked around the room. It was empty, just like you had thought when you realized the voice was back. Only this time it wasn’t the same man it had always been.

You put your elbows on your knees, burying your head in your hands and closed your eyes. The voice was familiar, but given its unexpected arrival, you weren’t paying attention enough. “You’re just a voice in my head.”

“I’m not just a voice.” This time you knew it. And what more, it wasn’t only in your head. You picked your head up, looking at the chair in front of you to see Lexa sitting back with her legs crossed in front of her.

“Lexa.” You whispered. She nodded, smiling softly at you. You paced around the room, ecstatic and unbelieving in the fact Lexa was right there. “I knew I saw you! I thought I was going crazy! I thought the flame-“ You stopped yourself, grabbing the back of your neck as you realized you were in fact having a conversation with someone who’s dead. “You’re still in my head.”

“I am, yes.”

“It’s the flame, isn’t it? A side effect.” Lexa just kept smiling at you, answering you silently as you tried not to clench your fist. “I supposed the other voice, he’s in here somewhere too?” You knocked on your head to gesture, biting your lip as Lexa’s face fell.

“What other voice?” She asked, straightening in her seat as you furrowed your brows.

“The other one, I don’t know, some guy. He keeps calling me Skaikiler, telling me to listen to him, but that’s all he ever says.”

Lexa seemed to be pondering your situation as you watched her, hoping if Lexa knew anything about the flame, she’d know about these unwanted side effects “This man, have you ever seen him?”

“No, just hear him when I’m trying to sleep.”

“What does he sound like?”

“What?” Lexa came closer to you, worrying you with her urgency.

“His voice. What does he sound like?”

“I don’t know, deep voice, kind of rough, I guess?” you shrugged.

Her face turned stone and her eyes were boring into yours. “Sheidheda.”

“Who?”

“His name’s Sheidheda, the Dark Commander. He was the strongest, most likely why he’s able to reach you. Whatever you do, don’t listen to him.”

“Why? How do you know it’s him? Who is he?”

“Just don’t listen-“

Once again, your conversations were cut short by a knock on the door. You turned at the sound of Clarke’s voice. “Y/N?” You looked back at Lexa, but the room was empty and you were all alone again. “Are you in there?”

“Uh, yeah. Come in.” You called back. The door opened and you put on a fake smile for your friend.

“Did Bellamy leave already?”

“Just missed him.” You told her. In all honesty, Clarke and you hadn’t spoken much since the other night. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, it was you hadn’t gone out much. “Did you need something?”

“Well, I figured since Bellamy wasn’t here, it was worth trying to get you to come out.”

“Clarke-“

“It’s been a week Y/N. You can’t just hide in your room or Bellamy’s.” You didn’t say anything, looking down at the ground. Clarke sighed as she knew pushing you wasn’t going to do any good. “Just think about it, okay?” You listened to the door closed as you fell back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Lexa?” you called out in hopes she would come back.

You sat there for a couple hours, a few of the books Bellamy had stashed in his room keeping you occupied, but the time Bellamy was supposed to return had passed and you were getting antsy. Clarke was right. You couldn’t just hide in your room, that wasn’t who you were.

The camp was almost quiet as you walked outside, seeing a few people talking and others just hanging out. Clarke was talking to Riley as you walked around, taking in the fresh air.

“He’s awake!” Your head snapped around at Jasper’s yell. He was standing above the lake as everyone came out to look. Squinting your eyes, you went closer, feeling a laugh bubble up at the sight of Jaha floating in the middle of the body of water. “Hey, Jaha! It looks like you got floated!” Jasper shouted as he cupped his mouth for the man to hear.

“I see you’re keeping yourself busy, Mr. Jordan.” Jaha yelled his loudest from the lake.

Clarke moved next to you as she smiled. “Yeah, you were right.” You told her, nudging her arm as you listened to Jaha and Jasper laugh with each other. “This was definitely worth leaving my room for.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She said with an eye roll before talking to the whole camp. “Alright everyone, back to work!”

She was about to walk away before you grabbed her arm. “Is Bellamy back yet?”

“No, but it’s normal for hunting parties to go radio silent.”

“Wait, radio silent?” You knew Bellamy was late, but you didn’t know he lost contact.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” She told you as you dropped her arm, feeling barely better. She kept looking around the camp.

“What’s wrong. You’ve got that look on your face.”

Clarke sighed, running a hand over her face. “I feel useless. I'm stuck here in case anyone needs their cut bandaged and supervising the backup plan when I should be going to the island to make Nightblood.”

“Come on Clarke, that’s not true. You’re keeping everyone’s head on straight. Besides, you’re not a geneticist.”

“Neither is my mom.”

“But they have Raven. Computer code, human code. They’ll figure it out.” You shrugged. Abby, Raven and their group left this morning, Bellamy had been keeping you updated with Abby’s idea to create Nightblood and them leaving that morning just after he had.

“I’m serious Y/N.”

“And I am too.” You put your hands on her shoulders, shaking gently to get her to understand. “Becca’s made Nightblood before, if they can find out how then they can use Luna to make more. Everyone lives.”

“If they can figure it out before the radiation comes.” She mumbled under her breath as you sighed, knowing she’s right.

“Then I guess we better make sure the ship’s working.”

Clarke nodded, turning around to Riley behind her. “Riley? How’s it going with the ship?” She asked the boy who turned his attention to the two of you.

“We’re on schedule. We should have the radiation patch up before dark.”

You nudged Clarke with your shoulder again. “See. One less thing to worry about.” Even though the aspect of everything turning to shit was still high on your worries, it couldn’t be on Clarke’s.

Thunder boomed in the camp as you looked up behind you, dark gray clouds filling the sky. Everyone in the camp stopped at the sound, fear rising in everyone. “Alright, everyone inside, just like we practiced. Go!” Clarke shouted but you stayed rooted in the ground. Bellamy was out there. Clarke turned around, seeing you haven’t moved. “Y/N, let’s go!”

“But Bellamy-“

“Will be fine!” She finished, grabbing your arm and pulling you to the Ark. You let her, sparing glances at the gate. You knew she was right and Bellamy can handle himself, but how were you supposed to assume he can when he went radio silent?!

You were right behind Monty as you entered the ark, the boy stopping to close the door as you turned around, seeing Jasper moseying around outside with no care about the impending rain. “Jasper!” you shouted, grabbing Monty to stop the door.

“Jasper, come on!”

“Jasper what are you doing?!” Clarke shouted over your shoulder as you watched the clouds above you.

“You can’t live your life in fear.” Jasper tilted his head back and opened his mouth, ready for the rain that was seconds from falling. Monty took off, trying to save his best friend and you tried to grab him but he got away. Harper went after her boyfriend, pulling him back to the ship as the rain hit. You all ducked inside, watching as the rain fall onto Jasper, soaking him as he started to react, his eyes widening as he began gagging and fell to the ground clutching his throat. “The sky… is…” Jasper muttered as you listened, the thought of losing him high on your mind. “Falling!” He began laughing, the realization he was just messing with all of you hitting the group at once as you scoffed.

“What is wrong with you?” Clarke asked as you nodded in disbelief, turning away from Jasper’s dumb antics.

“It’s just rain! Not radioactive ash!” He told you all but none of you listened. “It’s just a joke!” As soon as Jasper was alone, he threw his hands up before letting them fall. “When did everyone lose their sense of humor?”

---

Kane sat at a table in Polis, the radio in his hand as he spoke to Abby on the other side as she rode a boat to Becca’s island. Abby told him all about Luna’s blood preventing the radiation from killing her. “Abby, if what you’re saying is right, Luna could be the miracle we’re looking for. I wish I were with you.”

“Me too. But you have to be there.” She reminded him. “Once we create this Nightblood serum, we’re going to have to distribute it very quickly and we need to be at peace for that.”

The door to the eatery Kane was in opened and Octavia stepped inside, murmurs from the other men filling the room as Kane looked up. “Abby, I have to go. Stay safe. Be in touch when you reach the lab.” Octavia approached the table as Kane put the radio away, taking a seat across from him at Kane’s orders.

“What did I do now?” She sighed.

Kane sat forwards in his seat, keeping his voice hushed. “Rumors of the Flame’s destruction are spreading. People on the streets are openly calling for the King’s head. Your choices have consequences.”

“Would you rather I kill Indra’s daughter?”

“I rather you didn’t kill.”

Octavia glared at him. “Our mission to keep Roan on the throne to buy time for the others to find a way to save us from the radiation. I’m doing that.”

“By decapitating an innocent boy?” Kane reminded her of the fake Flame thief.

“Everyone’s guilty of something.”

Kane shook his head, staring at the young girl in front of him. “There’s a darkness in you, Octavia. I know you’re still morning.” Octavia heard enough. She stood up, ready to leave to escape the topic of Lincoln but Kane kept talking. “Sit down.” A few people turned to look, their conversation having gotten louder as Octavia took her seat again. “You didn’t have to kill that boy. You didn’t have to kill Ambassador Rafel. And you didn’t have to kill Pike.”

“Pike got what he deserved.” She growled, but Kane shook his head.

“Justice and Vengeance are not the same thing.”

“To me, they are.”

Kane paused before sitting back in his chair knowing Octavia was lost. “Your decision making has grown increasingly questionable and I can’t have my people going rogue.”

“Rogue.” Octavia scoffed. “I’m a warrior.”

Kane disagreed with her, in shock of her way of thinking. “A warrior knows when not to kill. Lincoln taught you that. But you’ve seemed to forgotten.” A member of Roan’s guard entered; the other grounders not keen on Azgeda being there. He approached the table of the two Skaikru, looking towards Kane.

“Chancellor Kane, the King would like to see you.” Kane nodded to him as Octavia stood up.

He stopped her before she got far. “You’re no longer part of me security detail.” He told her and Octavia clenched her jaw. “I had Helios saddled for you. The ride home should do you good.”

“I’m not going anywhere before I talk to Indra.” She defied him.

“Suit yourself. She’ll be here soon enough.” Kane told her before following the grounder outside and to the King.

---

The boat docked at the island as everyone began to climb out. Abby pulled out her tablet and pulled up the map. “According to the map Thelonious had, the lab is in the middle of the island, 5 miles straight ahead.”

Jackson picked up a backpack and handed it to Raven, looking down at her limp. “You okay for that hike?”

“Try and keep up with me.” She told him, throwing the pack over her shoulder.

John Murphy looked at the island, a sense of discomfort coming over him. “Never thought I’d be here again.” Raven stood by his side.

“Then you shouldn’t have come.” She told him, sending a side glare. “You’re not fooling anyone. You’re still a dick.”

Luna and Nyko were the last ones off the boat, watching the Skaikru interactions carefully. “You’re doing the right thing.” Nyko spoke in a hush tone to Luna.

“They didn’t give me a choice.” She reminded him. Because of Luna’s blood she was valuable and because she was valuable, she wasn’t given a choice of helping or not, she was forced.

Nyko sighed and stepped in front of Luna. “These are good people Luna. I trust them and you trust me.”

“They think my blood will save them, Nyko.”

“Save us all.” He corrected.

Luna narrowed her eyes. “What do you think will happen if I tell them no?” She asked despite the fact they both knew the answer already. At Miller’s word, they followed the others onto the island. Emori led the way, bringing the group to what looked to be a boundary set with pillars before she stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Abby asked the girl.

Emori hesitated. “ALIE’s rules. No Frikdreina past this line. I’ve never crossed it.”

“Frikdreina?” Jackson spoke up, needing the clarification most of them did.

“Mutants.” Emori gestured to her wrapped hand.

“I’ve never met a line I wouldn’t cross.” Murphy said as he smiled at Emori before taking the very first step over. Everyone started following Murphy’s lead except for Emori who still wasn’t sure about the idea of crossing the line. Only when Murphy stuck his hand out to her, inviting her in, did she finally cross the line.

Ears went on alert as they trekked up a hill and heard a buzzing. “What is that?” Miller asked the question on everyone’s mind. They looked up in the sky to see a drone hovering not far above them.

“We should run.” Emori told them all but no one listened.

“Why? What’s the penalty for crossing the line?” No sooner than the words left Raven’s lips did the drone start firing at them and a guard fell to the ground with a bullet in his head.

“Run!” Everyone shouted before taking off running. The drone kept shooting at them and Miller tried firing back but didn’t hit it.

“I thought you said ALIE was dead!” Murphy shouted as he ran with Emori next to him, their hands interlocked and dodging every time the drone fired to them.

“It must be automated!” Raven told him, finding it a struggle to run on her limp. Murphy let go of Emori’s hand, pushing her forwards as he reached Raven and swung her arm over his shoulder and helped her run.

“I got you!” The group kept running, trying to get out of the drone’s firing as they split up, Emori, Murphy and Raven taking cover behind a log. Murphy checked on his girlfriend, making sure she didn’t get hurt. “Emori, are you okay?” She nodded as they all panted.

Nyko and Luna were still running, both having split in a different direction than the others as the drone followed. “Luna watch out!” Nyko shouted as he yanked Luna back and used his body as a shield, taking several shots to his back as Luna cried out for him.

Miller started shooting down the drone, taking several shots as Nyko died in Luna’s arms. Miller finally hit the drone, sending it clattering to the ground away from them. Everyone let out a sigh of relief at the one less drone causing them danger. “Well, that took you ten shots.” Murphy ridiculed Miller’s shooting as Miller roll his eyes. “ALIE’s got tons of drones, who do you think’s gonna run out of bullets first?”

“Could we talk about why they’re still in the sky?” Miller yelled out, pointing at the drone on the ground.

Abby was bent with her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. She looked up to where the deceased Nyko and Luna were, only the latter wasn’t there. “Where the hell’s Luna?”

More drones filled the sky as the group shrunk behind their safeties. “They’re back!”

“We see that Jackson!” Miller snapped, pointing his gun up in the air, but not firing. “Okay, if we don’t find Luna, everyone we know is gonna die in a wave of fire.” Miller reminded everyone, trying to come up with a plan. “We split up. Murphy, Emori, Abby you go west. Wilson and Taggart you go east. Jackson and I take north. And Raven-” He turned to Raven, unsure what to do with the mechanic.

“I like the beach.” Raven offered, knowing she wouldn’t be of much use.

Miller nodded. “Stay under the trees and you’ll be safe. The rest of you do the same. We check in every ten.”

Raven glanced over to the drone, seeing the light flickering. “It’s still active.”

“One problem at a time, Raven. Lets move out!” The group spilt up per Miller’s directions. As Emori, Murphy and Abby walked, Emori was nervous. She looked around her frantically and tried to catch up with Murphy.

“We shouldn’t be in this forest, John. We need to cut our losses.” She said quietly for Abby not to overhear.

“Why?” Murphy asked, looking at a anxious Emori before he stopped her. “Hey. What aren’t you telling me?”

“Just trust me.” She whispered, watching Abby get further ahead of them. “There are worse things here than those drones. We’re safer at your bunker.”

Murphy shook his head. “It’s not stocked, I ate everything.”

“Then we restock it.” She tried to get him to see. “You said it was big enough for two.”

Abby turned back briefly, stopping when she realized the teens were not keeping up with her. “Is everything okay? We have to keep going.” She shouted back at them. Murphy and Emori exchanged a look before moving forwards, following the doctor.

---

Roan sat on the throne with a scowl as the doors opened to his guard leading in Kane. Kane walked in slowly, glancing around the empty room. “Is there a reason we’re meeting here? I would’ve thought-“

“Tell me the plan.” Roan interrupted him.

“The plan?

“It’s been 3 weeks since Y/N told me Praimfaya would once again destroy the world. Skaikru asked for time to find a solution. What do you have to show for it?”

“We’re still working on it.” Kane gulped, hoping to soothe the kings worries. “Hopefully, with enough time-“

“Enough!” Roan held his hand up to silence Kane who obliged. “Echo.”

At Roan’s command, Echo entered the room dragging a Skaikru guard with her as a hostage while another member of Roan’s guard had Bellamy, both of them gagged and hands tied together. Kane’s mouth fell open when he turned around. “Stephens, Bellamy are you alright?” Bellamy and Stephens were forced to their knees. Bellamy bit down on his gag as Kane asked Roan what was going on.

Roan stood up and approached the hostages. “Echo saw your people rebuilding your ship. She captured these two hunting in my woods.” He pointed to Stephens, “This one says it a shelter from the radiation.”

Kane looked at Bellamy, see the young man’s eyes hinting to tell Roan. “It’s a backup plan.” Kane told the King. “Nothing more.”

“He said that too, just before he told us you have a Nightblood.” Stephens looked ashamed as Kane glanced at him. “It’s a good thing the Flame’s been destroyed, or I’d be worried you’re planning an ascension.”

Kane thought about what to do, knowing Roan is losing trust in the Sky people. “You have to trust me. We discovered that Nightblood helps metabolize radiation. We're investigating ways to create it for everyone, turn everyone into Nightbloods so we can all survive.”

Echo narrowed her eyes. “Blasphemy. Nothing they tell us is true.” She said to her King, trying to get him to believe Skaikru is not to be trusted for Nightblood couldn’t be replicated.

“It’s not blasphemy! It’s science! If Nightblood could save lives, then we should use it.” For a second Roan looked like he was understanding, like he was going to give Skaikru another chance. But with the nod of his head, that chance slipped through Bellamy’s and Kane’s fingers as Roan had signaled for Echo to slit the throat of Stephen and with a draw of her sword, she had. “No! No!” Kane shouted as Echo pushed Stephen’s dead body over and Kane knelt down to him. Bellamy watched on, terrified of his own fate and thankful beyond relief that you hadn’t come with him like he offered for he didn’t know how things would’ve turned out if you were by his side as well.

“Warriors don’t share their secrets.” Echo said as guards came into the room, standing around Kane and Bellamy.

“Truth is the first causality of war.” Roan began. “If your motive’s were pure, you would’ve shared your plan with me. Our alliance is broken.” Echo smirked as Kane and Bellamy were horrified. “Skaikru and Trikru are the enemy.”

“What about them, sire?” One of Roan’s men asked about Bellamy and Kane, his hand on Bellamy’s neck.

“Hostages.” Bellamy was shoved forward. “Find Octavia and Indra. Kill everyone else.” Roan walked off as Kane and Bellamy struggled to get out of the grounders grasps as they were led to the cells against their wills.

---

You had been nonstop worrying about Bellamy since Clarke told you he’d been radio silent. You knew Clarke had a point in telling you hunting parties go silent, but you couldn’t help but think you should’ve gone with him, at least then you’d know if he was alright.

“I think this is the most I’ve seen you in a week.” Clarke said as she joined you in the dining room, having watched you tap your now empty cup against the table for the last twenty minutes. You didn’t say anything as she took the seat across from you. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better.” You told her. “I saw Lexa today.”

For a second, Clarke had forgotten about your side effects and your sentence had surprised her. She cleared her throat. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And she spoke this time, not just standing there.” You admitted. Clarke nodded, feeling her stomach twist. She knew that she was the one to tell you not to hide your problems, but she didn’t know how much it would hurt to hear you got the chance to see her ex-girlfriend and she didn’t.

She tried to change the subject. “How’s it going with you and Bellamy.” She asked, knowing Bellamy had been by your side for almost the entire week.

You found yourself stop tapping the cup against the table, a small smile making way on your face that Clarke certainly caught. “Pretty good actually. Um, we’re dating now.”

Clarke was surprised. She’s watched you and Bellamy dance around your feelings for a while. “Wow. When did this happen?”

“This morning actually, right before he left.” You told her, looking down at the table.

“Well, congratulations.” She said and you nodded awkwardly, not know what to do. “Can I ask you something?” you picked your head up, looking to your friend and nodded. “You wanted me to take your name off the list. You still want that?” You knew happiness wouldn’t last long. It was naïve of you and Bellamy to start dating now. The world was ending and you were giving up your spot. How could you have been so stupid. “Y/N?”

“I want my name off.” You whispered. You knew it would break Bellamy, but you couldn’t take someone else’s spot and if that whole Nightblood mass production worked out, then you wouldn’t take someone’s spot regardless. If it didn’t… then he would just have to move on. He’d need to move on.

“Y/N.”

“I’m not taking someone’s spot Clarke.” She nodded, letting out a shaky breath.

“Alright, then let’s go change the list.” The two of you stood up, walking to the Chancellors office in silence, completely unaware of Jasper and Monty inside having found the list already. You were walking behind Clarke as she entered the Office, both of you stepping inside.

Monty’s eyes snapped from the list in his hands, the one that contained Clarke’s name and your name and not his own, to both you and Clarke in the entrance. “Clarke! Y/N! Wait!” He shouted but it was too late as both of you were covered in fire-suppression spray, the white foam covering your entire upper body as you stood in shock, not having expect that to happen.

“Really?” Clarke yelled at the two boys as you wiped your face with your hands, blinking a couple times before Clarke shoved a towel in your hands and you properly wiped down your face.

“We found your list.” Jasper said as he snatched the list from Monty’s hands and walked towards you both. “I guess we really know who matters to you now, huh?” Clarke began sputtering out Jasper’s name but Jasper wouldn’t let her get a word out. “You’re not God, Clarke. You don’t get to decide who lives and who dies.”

“The list is a backup, Jasper.” You shouted over him, getting his attention on you.

“And you! You’re on here too! In fact, you even took someone else’s spot. Yeah, yeah. How’s that for playing god?” Jasper spouted as he backed up, moving towards the speaker. “Then I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell everyone?”

Your eyes widened as Monty saved your asses, jumping in Jasper’s way. “Jasper, no.”

“People have a right to know they’re working for nothing.”

David Miller rushed into the room, seeing the fire-suppression spray all over you and Clarke. “Is there a fire? Is everything okay?”

“Not for you. You’re not on the list.” Jasper said as he shook the list in the air.

David furrowed his brows. “What list?” Jasper took the distraction as he pushed Monty to the side and grabbed the intercom.

“Attention Arkadia. I have an announcement to make.” Jasper didn’t get to finish though because the second he grabbed the intercom you had jumped into action, pulling the shock lash off of Sgt Miller’s uniform and thrusting it at Jasper. He fell to the ground groaning as one of the other guards grabbed your arms, holding them behind your back and taking the shock lash from you. You didn’t fight them on it, not believing the fact you had just shock lashed your friend.

“Let her go.” Clarke ordered and the hands behind your back disappeared slowly. Clarke straightened herself out as she moved next to you. “He broke into the Chancellor’s Office. Lock him up.” Sgt Miller and the rest of the guards didn’t move, not knowing whether or not Clarke had the authority or not. “I’m acting on the authority of Chancellor Kane. Take him into custody.” Sgt Miller nodded and the guards pulled Jasper off the ground and brought him to lock up.

You hadn’t moved since you shocked lashed Jasper and Clarke put her hand on your shoulder to pull you out of your trance. You turned to Monty, seeing him kneel on the ground as you stepped closer.m“Monty, I’m sorry-“

“Don’t.” He held up a hand, stopping you from coming any closer and you listened. “Just don’t.” He moved by you, not sparing another glance as you turned to Clarke, seeing her looking distraught.

“I had to.” You told her and she nodded.

“I know.” She assured you. Jasper was going to tell Arkadia and that couldn’t have happened.

---

Something in Polis seemed different as Octavia climbed off Helios outside the building from earlier. There was no noise from inside, no one talking, or even anyone coming outside. She looked around, trying to find her mentor before entering.

She stopped as soon as she stepped inside. Warriors, Trikru Warriors, were slaughtered inside, the tables were knocked over and lined with blood as bodies laid everywhere. “Indra.” Octavia whispered, worried for her mentor’s safety. She turned over a woman looking exactly like her, and Octavia felt relief in knowing it wasn’t her. Someone moved in the corner as Octavia looked over to see a warrior in pain, but still alive. “What happened?” She asked him as she looked at his wound, knowing he wasn’t going to make it.

“Skairipa…” He mumbled when he realized who was in front of him. “They’ll be back for you. You need to run. Ice Nation is attacking Skaikru and Trikru. They’ll march on your camp tonight.”

“Where’s Indra?”

“Warning our people that the alliance is broken. This is war.” His speech slowed as he tried harder to live and breathe. His head dropped forwards as the pain became too much and the warrior died. Hearing voices just outside, Octavia ran out heading right back to Arkadia.

---

Since you shock lashed Jasper, the mood around camp had seemed to be going down. Monty walked out of the ark, glancing to you sat in front of the fire with your head practically buried in your hands before walking right past you, heading unknowingly to where Clarke was stood watching everyone.

“Monty…”

“Jasper’s fine.” He interrupted her before scoffing. “In case you care.”

“I do care, Monty.” She told him, already feeling bad how the day went. “Can we talk in private?” She asked. Monty paused before moving past her and Clarke inhaled thickly before after him. He brought her to a more secluded area, one where they couldn’t be disturbed. “Making the list wasn’t easy and I only had so many slots for engineers. You’re an apprentice and Jaha knows more about the ship.” She explained, beginning to list out reasons as to one person opposed to the other.

Monty scoffed, holding up a hand to stop her. “That’s what you think this is about? I get why you didn’t put me on the list, I might even agree with it. But its just, who are you? When did you become this person?”

“I haven’t become anyone.” She tried to tell him.

“The Clarke I know wouldn’t be arresting her friends.” He almost growled. “And Y/N shock lashing him?”

“She did what she had to!” Clarke defended you, not wanting Monty to blame you at all. She stopped herself, taking a calming breath. “Kane agreed that we needed to keep this quiet.”

“Kane’s not here. That’s just an excuse. You’re the one saying you live and Harper dies.” He reminded her, feeling protective for his girlfriend. “Y/N’s the one shock-lashing Jasper and you’re the one arresting him. You’re the one going too far and still using that same old justification. It’s all for my people.”

“It is!” Clarke yelled much louder than she wanted. She looked around, making sure no one heard her and luckily no one had. Monty shook his head, wanting to share the truth with everyone. “It’s too risky.”

Monty scoffed and made his decision. “Jasper was right. You’re not God.” He took off, leaving Clarke alone to mull over his words. Monty went straight to the rover, the sound of feedback calling your attention as Monty spoke. “I have an announcement to make. Clarke Griffin is lying to you.” Your eyes widened as you listened and stood up, seeing Monty was getting the attention of everyone around. “Arkadia will only save 100 people. Who thinks they made the list?” He pulled the list out of his pocket and everyone had stopped working at this point, moving closer as you made your way over to Clarke. “Abby Griffin. Eric Jackson.”

“Can we stop him?” You asked Clarke, knowing people were getting increasingly angry at Clarke.

She just shook her head as Monty continued to read, finally reaching Bellamy, Clarke and your name. “It’s already done.”

---

Raven stayed alone on the beach, keeping an eye to the sky in case another drone strike decided to make a surprise appearance. There were a few drone’s in the sky but they didn’t shoot at her. The drone just far enough out of her comfort run zone kept getting her attention, the machine was whirring and still blinking, telling Raven it was still alive.

“You can’t fly, but you can talk.” She mumbled to the drone, looking up to see another fly away. This was her chance. She ran out from behind the tree heading straight for the drone, but unfortunately, she didn’t get very far before the drones were back and shooting at her. She tried to backtrack but only managed to fall over, the drone strike continuing at her. She got back to the tree, pressing her back against it as she hid.

“Raven! Raven, are you okay?” Miller shouted over the radio as the shooting died out.

Raven groaned as she pulled the radio out of her pack. “All good here. Worry about your damn self.” She told him as she stared at the broken drone, trying to figure out how to get it. By the edge of the beach, Luna walked out of the trees right past Nyko as Raven saw her. “Luna no! You’ll get killed!” Luna spared her no attention, walking as if there was nothing to bother her as she stepped out of the boundary and the drones stopped aiming at her. Raven spoke into the radio. “Luna’s here. She’s heading for the boat.”

“Copy that. Do whatever you can to stop her, we’re on our way.” Miller told her and Raven took off. She ran towards the border, the drones firing just behind her as she ran as fast as she could with her leg. As soon as the boundary was in her reach, she dove and lost the drones behind her.

“Luna! I can’t let you leave, we need you!” Raven shouted as she pushed herself up, aiming a gun at Luna.

Luna however kept walking. “Heard that one before.” Raven shot at Luna’s feet as the girl finally stopped walking. When she turned around, Raven had her gun still drawn at her. “So, I am a prisoner.”

“Your blood could save everyone!”

“Do you really think you deserve to be saved?” Luna narrowed her eyes as both women stepped closer to each other.

“I know how you feel, but it won’t always be like this. You just have to keep fighting.”

“What if the fight is all we are? We torture, kill, betray, pretend we’re more than that just to make ourselves feel better, but it’s a lie.” Luna told her and Raven’s gun faltered just a little.

“What about Adria? Was she more than that?” Raven brought up the girl, remembering Luna caring for her as she died. Luna felt her stomach sink as she reminded Raven that Adria was gone. “But she was good, right? There are others out there like her. Don’t you want to give them a chance?” Raven lowered her gun and put it on the ground, showing Luna Raven meant no harm. “You’re not a prisoner. You have a choice, Luna.” The gunfire went off behind Raven as Miller came on the radio, telling of Jackson getting hit in the arm and how getting Luna to safety was the priority right now. “We need to help them Luna!” Raven said, holding the radio tight in her hand. “Please, I know what to do, but with my leg,” She gestured down to the brace on her leg, “I can’t do it myself.”

Luna took a second, looking back to the boat before knowing what the right choice was. “What do you need me to do?”

Raven explained everything about needing the drone so Raven could hack into it. As soon as the coast was clear, Luna took off as Raven yelled for her to go. Luna ran and dodged the shots being fired at her as Raven shot at the drone in the sky. Luna managed to grab the damaged drone, using the trees to hide her before she finally made it past the boundary to safety.

Raven took the drone from Luna, hearing her friends over the radio calling for help. “I just need to access its core programming.” Raven got to work, trying to hack into the drone. “They’re protecting ALIE’s facilities like guard dogs.”

“Well, can you stop them?” As Raven started to work, her head started pounding, a migraine occurring but she ignored it.

Abby, Murphy and Emori ran through the woods, looking for Jackson and Miller until they found them taking shelter. Murphy pointed his gun in the air, looking for any sign of a drone but came up empty. “I can’t see it!” He shouted to Abby.

“I’ll draw its fire.” Abby told him and soon as she said the words, she dashed out from the trees right out into the open.

“What are you doing?!”

“You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“When they come for me, shoot them!” She yelled before waving her hands in the air. “Hey! Over here!” She shouted. Murphy aimed the gun and the moment a drone appeared behind Abby, he pulled the trigger, only it didn’t fire.

“Shit.” He muttered and figured he was out of bullets. Abby turned around slowly, eye level with the drone and she thought it was over for her.

Until the drone fell out of the sky.

They all went silent, thinking about what could’ve happened. Abby pulled out her radio, her hand shaking as she spoke. “Raven? The drone just fell out of the sky. What happened?”

Raven looked down at the drone, the screen blinking to say the security measures were disengaged. “I happened.” She told them. “Now get your asses back to the boat, Luna’s here.” She didn’t wait for a response as she put the radio away, turning to Luna to see her staring at the boat. “Luna.” She called out for the girls’ attention. “It’s not your blood that defines you. It’s your heart.” Luna took in her words, sending Raven a nod to know Luna was in.

---

The camp had turned to chaos since Monty spilt the truth. Everyone was yelling at Clarke, saying how unfair it wasn’t up to Clarke to determine who can live.

“I didn’t survive the ice Nation just to die because you don’t think I’m good enough.” Riley spat at Clarke as you stood next to her, glaring at him.

Clarke was getting overwhelmed with the yelling, trying to defend herself. “Riley, you’re smart, but you were training to be a guard. We only need so many soldiers.”

He scoffed at her reasoning. “You’re saying Darcy is more qualified than me? She’s a trainee too and I’m a hell of a better shot.

“Look, I know this is hard to hear, but we needed to ensure the survival of the human race and to do that the list needed to be weighted towards young women who can have children.” Clarke explained, much like she had when you helped her with the list.

“Wait. It’s because she can have kids? How’s that fair?” Someone asked as you turned to scowl at the man.

“It’s not fair, it’s smart.” You defended Clarke, feeling her grab your elbow to pull you back.

Monty shook his head. “What about Harper? How come she’s not on the list?” He nodded towards Harper who agreed, looking between Clarke and you who apparently was the only person who could see Clarke’s struggle.

Clarke’s face softened. “There’s a chance she could be a drain on medical resources.”

Harper scoffed in confusion. “Well, I’m not sick.”

“Not yet.”

Monty caught onto Clarke’s thinking. “Your dad.” She mumbled to Harper, knowing of Harper’s father’s sickness. “Wait, you went into her medical records?”

“You’re condemning me for an illness I might have someday?” Harper asked, shocked this was how Clarke was deciding.

“I had to consider all variables.” Clarke explained.

“That’s rich for a person who put herself on the list.” Harper snapped at her and you bit your tongue, knowing no good would come out of you ‘helping’.

“And Bellamy Blake? Come on!” Someone yelled and suddenly you didn’t want to keep quiet anymore. “Even Y/N Y/L/N? She doesn’t deserve a spot!”

You clenched your fist, turning to look at the man who was speaking before Clarke was holding you back again and Jaha made way into the middle, but you didn’t even realize, too busy staring down the man who was severely intimidated by you now.

“Of course, Bellamy and Clarke should be included.” Jaha said, standing between you and the man. Your attention was only pulled away by the fact Jaha definitely did not include your name as he put his hands onto Clarke and your shoulders. “Strong leadership is essential for survival. You don’t like the list?” He turned to Monty, holding out his hand as Monty handed it over. “Consider it shredded. We can keep fighting each other and die, or we can work together and give everyone a shot at survival. It’s your choice.”

“Meaning what?”

“We hold a lottery.” Jaha went on. “Randomly choose the 100 people to survive, but you have to work for it. You don’t show up for assignments, you can’t be in the lottery, and when the time comes, we’ll collect names and draw.” You knotted your brows. There was no way this was going to end up great. “Good?” Jaha asked and everyone nodded except you and Clarke, sharing looks and you knew she caught on to the same dilemma you had. “Good. It’s settled. Then get back to work. Let’s get it done.”

Everyone started off, moving to help Jaha put up a radiation shield as you turned to Clarke. “I guess he’s Chancellor again.” You muttered, sending a look at Jaha’s back.

Clarke shook her head, moving to chase after Jaha. You stood in your place, listening to Clarke and Jaha take about how problematic a random list could be but you could focus on that.

Even Y/N Y/L/N? She doesn’t deserve a spot!

You didn’t even want a spot, but who were they to tell you that you didn’t deserve to live?

---

Helios was flying through the forest with Octavia on top him, turning back every few moments to see Echo and her riders getting closer.

“There she is! This way, we’ll cut her off!” Echo yelled as she led the riders through the forest. Octavia moved faster, trying to get away but it was no use for Echo did manage to cut her off.

Octavia caught sight of another pathway. “Yah!” She told Helios, leading him down the path as Echo chased after her again. Octavia was getting ahead, that was until she came to the top of a ravine, looking down to the water below as Echo emerged from the tree line. Octavia got off her horse, patting him to run away as he did.

“It’s over, Octavia. Don’t fight it. Roan wants you alive. Come quietly.”

“That’ll happen.” Octavia muttered with no plans to surrender.

“One in her leg.” Echo told the rider to her left. He nodded, drawing back his bow but Octavia beat him. She threw her knife, hitting him in the head and stopping him. Echo jumped off her horse as did the man next to her, both of them pulling out their swords as well as Octavia. They began fighting, Octavia taking the first swing at the rider before moving to Echo, fighting them both at once. She got a few cuts in on Echo, a few punches landing on Octavia as well before she sliced the man’s neck, cutting her enemies down in count. “It doesn’t have to be this way.” Echo told her as they circled each other, their swords drawn.

“It does.” Octavia panted. “You made sure of that.” Echo took the first swing this time, the fight starting up once again.

Echo swung.

Octavia ducked.

Octavia swung.

Echo ducked.

It went on, Echo finally getting the upper hand as she cornered Octavia to the edge of the cliff, the rocks slipping out from Octavia’s feet but she wasn’t going to lose. Octavia kept fighting, swinging her sword over and over much like Echo did, but Echo prevailed. Octavia’s sword broke in half, the pieces flying in different directions as Octavia’s eyes widened and the grip of Echo’s sword was punched into Octavia’s face, sending her backwards.

“I said he wanted you alive!” Echo told Octavia, both of them exhausted from their fight. Octavia caught sight of the dead riders’ sword, not far from her as she crawled on the ground. She grabbed the sword, gripping it tight as she stood up.

But she barely got on her feet before Echo thrusted her own sword right through Octavia’s stomach. Octavia stopped fighting, gasping out as Echo ripped the weapon from her stomach. Octavia brought a hand to her stomach to hold herself as she fell, backwards, right off the edge of the cliff.

Echo watched, peering over the ravine as she hit the water. “Yu gonplei ste odon, Octavia kom Skaikru.”

---

Since Clarke had him locked up, Jasper had been sitting in a cell all alone, sitting in silence before Clarke came in. He didn’t move, not even bothering to acknowledge she was there.

“I shouldn’t have locked you up.” Clarke admitted. “I thought it was the only choice I had.”

Jasper sighed. “It was the only choice you gave yourself. If you think you have the best idea, you convince people, not lie and lock them up.” He gestured to the cell around him.

“That doesn’t matter now. Monty read the list over the radio, so everyone knows everything now.”

“What a shame.” He said, finally looking over to Clarke. “I thought you were giving Jaha a run for his money there. Jaha lite.” He chuckled at his joke.

Clarke nodded, knowing she deserved that. “You know, he used to be everything I hated. Maybe he was keeping us together.”

Jasper sat up, chuckling some more. “When Jaha seems reasonable, it’s time to reassess.”

Clarke gave him a tight-lipped smile, turning to the wide-open cell door. “You can go.”

Jasper sighed, reaching for his jacket as he stood up and walked past Clarke. “You know, someday when this is all over, you’re gonna realize that foam bit was funny.”

---

With the threat of the drones no longer looming over their heads, the group on ALIE’s island were making great progress on finding the lab. After they stopped for the last time, the lab was just through the trees. They finished the distance, seeing the giant concrete structure as they stopped.

“Hey, I have a question.” Murphy sighed, tilting his head. “ALIE had a security system to protect this thing, right? Any idea what she was protecting it from?” No one had an answer.

“Let’s hope we don’t find out.” Abby said as she took the first steps to the lab. “But just in case, Raven get the drones back in the sky.” The group made their way inside, some less excited, like Emori, but still followed.

The lights turned on the moment they stepped inside, the entire lab at the tips of their fingers as they looked down to all the technology. Raven smirked. “Not bad, Becca.”

---

Bellamy and Kane were prisoners, locked in the cells as they worried. Bellamy was terrified about his sister, not knowing what will happen if they find her. “Doesn’t matter what we do, we always end up here at the brink of war.”

“Abby’s on the island. She’ll find a cure. I know she will.” Bellamy couldn’t believe him. How could he when nothing goes their way. He was terrified.

He was terrified about Octavia.

He was terrified about what Roan would do to them.

He was terrified about you being in Arkadia and having no idea the alliance was broken.

Bellamy was just terrified of everything.

Kane caught the look on Bellamy’s face, one of someone with no hope. “Hey, we’ll get through this.” Bellamy nodded, needing to believe he would see you again.

The sound of keys jingling caught their attention as the cell door opened, Echo and more grounders coming in. “On your feet.” They were told and obliged.

Kane looked past Echo, seeing Roan enter. “What are you doing?” He asked the King.

“We’re bringing you home. Your ship is protection from Praimfaya. I intend to take it.”

“You don’t have to do this. We can find a solution together.” Kane offered, knowing if Roan took Alpha then Skaikru would die.

Roan held his hand up, stopping Kane’s pleading. “That time has passed.” He turned toward Echo. “Get them ready to march.”

“Octavia will get there first.” Bellamy spoke up, believing in his sister to protect his people and you. Roan stopped walking. “She’ll warn them you’re coming. You’ll lose.”

Roan looked over his shoulder at Echo, the silence not settling well in Bellamy’s stomach as Roan nodded to the woman. Echo slowly turned around, stepping towards Bellamy before reaching into her coat.

Bellamy felt his world stop when she pulled out Octavia’s broken sword, letting it fall to Bellamy’s feet. He couldn’t breathe, staring at the weapon he knew was his sisters which could only mean one thing.

“She wouldn’t be taken alive.” Roan told him. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” he whispered, shaking his head and looking up at Echo. She nodded and Bellamy’s heart broke again. He turned around, grabbing onto the cell bars to keep him up as he tried to breathe. “No. No. No. No.” He repeated, feeling himself break down.

“It was a good death.” Echo said, only making Bellamy want to collapse.

“No. O!” He sobbed, falling to his knees. “No. No. NO! NO!” He screamed and cried out, begging for his sister as the guards pulled him away despite his violent thrashing and sobbing. “NO! NO!”

NO!

---

Helios walked the waterfront, taking his time after he had left Octavia. The water flowed right past him as he walked on the beach. He kept walking, drinking some of the moving water before finding Octavia’s body washed up on the shore. He nudged his muzzle against her bloodied hand, over and over until finally Octavia turned over her hand and let Helios lick her fingers.

Her breathing was raspy and painful as she picked her head up and Helios back away. She took as deep of a breath as she could and began crawling out of the water, groaning from the pain in her stomach and from the fall. “Helios.” She groaned and grabbed onto the stirrup, using it to pull herself up until she could pull herself onto the saddle completely. She had thrown herself over, falling forward onto the horse. “Home, Helios.” She mumbled, barely able to form the sentence. The horse started moving, heading in the direction to Arkadia while Octavia held on as tight as she could. “Take me home.”

A/N: Apologizes for my lateness loves, let me know what you think!

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#Bellamy Blake x Reader #Bellamy Blake imagine #Bellamy Blake Series #Bellamy Blake #Bellamy Blake the 100 #the 100 #the 100 x reader #the 100 imagine #the 100 series #the 100 rewrite #banished #part 49 #A lie guarded

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 5 years

Text

Dark Side: Part 3

Master: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Steve X Reader

Summary: You expected Captain America to be a lot of things… You didn’t expect him to be anything like you. As it turns out, America’s Golden Boy may be more than a little tarnished.

Warnings: Violence, blood, feels, fluff, smut, everything

A/N: This bad boy is for @littledarlinhavefaithinme ‘s Marvelous Writing Challenge!

LOLOLOLOL WHAT HAVE I DONE.

Well. This is longer than I expected but seeing as the challenge is over this week I thought I’d give it to y’all in one final beefy chapter filled with blood and emotions and smut and the bevy of human messiness that makes us all tick. The prompt is bolded. I need a drink. Aaaaand there is probs gonna be an epilogue because I have more ideas for these two.

Hope y’all like my angsty Cap!

Tags are open!

It takes two hours to clean up the mess.

He tells the police he had been here with a friend, who he told to leave as soon as the shot was heard, he saw the victim attacking a woman, she fired in self-defense, before he could question her she’d gotten lost in the crowd. As he conveyed his not entirely untrue story Natasha stared at him, eyebrows raised as if she didn’t believe him but she said nothing.

It didn’t matter. No one seemed too concerned with any of it. Almost to the point that it unnerved him. Both the DCPD and S.H.I.E.L.D. chalked it up to some random incident, bagged the body, took some statements and that was it.

“They’re not going to do anything more about this?” He asked Natasha as everyone dispersed.

She shrugged, “People die every day in this city. They’ll look into it but he’s likely just a thug who picked the wrong mark. Sucks to be him but if no one’s gonna miss him they’re not gonna waste the manpower on it.” He doesn’t like it. “Can’t save everyone all the time, Steve.”

That wasn’t what left a bad taste in his mouth but he couldn’t tell her that. With a cloud hovering over him he heads home, trying his best to push down the feeling in his gut that he’s missing something.

As he slips his key in the lock he hears water coming from the bathroom. His blood runs cold.

Quietly he opens the door. Slipping inside, he stands, hardly breathing as he assesses the situation. His shield isn’t where he usually leaves it, close to the door. However, he does see blood, drops trailing on the wood floor toward the bathroom. Even though he assumes it's you he cautiously makes his way through his apartment.

The door to the bathroom is just barely ajar. He shoulders it open and hears the click of a gun. You’re standing in the shower, shield raised, gun poised.

“Oh thank fuck,” you breathe out, shield dropping to your side revealing your muscular form clad in nothing but a pair of high waist lace underwear and a matching bra. He swallows hard, trying to pretend he doesn’t feel his cheeks heating.

“That thing is heavier than I thought it’d be.” You lean his shield against the wall beside the shower, setting your pistol beside it.

“They really just let you bring that home? I thought it’d be on lock up or something. Vibranium is worth a shit load.” He says nothing as he steps in, nothing the first aid kit, the blood in the bathtub, and discarded surgical thread in a pile.

“I’ll clean this up,” he’s surprised at the awkward tone in your voice. “I… uh… it’s hard to stitch up the back of your thigh yourself, in case you ever need to know.” Blood is still snaking down your leg, he can tell from the pool forming by your foot.

“I’d assume as much.” He has a million questions but for now, you need help. “Here,” he begins undoing the buttons on his shirt.

“You don’t have to-”

“I can’t just leave you bleeding in my shower. And I think I’m owed some answers. So, you’re gonna let me stitch you up and you’re going to answer my questions.”

“Authoritative. I’m into it.” He slides his gaze to you, as he tosses the shirt to his bed. That goddamn smirk on your lips. He’s got half a mind to turn you around in the shower and… No. You need help and he needs answers. That’s what this situation is. Nothing else.

He washes his hands and grabs a few rags, getting them wet. “Turn around, let me see.” Ignoring the blood he kneels behind you, setting the kit down beside him, to inspect the wound. It needs stitches but it’s not too bad.

“Am I gonna make it doc?” You look over your shoulder and down at him, voice dripping with mock concern.

“I think we can save the leg, just barely though.”

“Thank god. Though I could always replace it with a machine gun.”

“That may be the most ridiculous image I can imagine,” he laughs as he starts to clean the area around the wound.

You hiss just a bit before explaining, “It’s in a movie actually.”

“Well,” he pulls gauze from the kit to press to the wound, you brace yourself against the wall, “that sounds like a cinematic masterpiece.”

You laugh a little, “It’s so bad it’s almost good actually. Kind of a horror action combo.”

“Maybe I’ll watch it.” Gently he removes the blood-soaked pad before pressing another, the flow slows.

“I don’t know if it’ll be your taste.”

“Aren’t you the one always telling me to try new things?”

“Ok,” you laugh, “point.”

He threads a fresh needle, “Ready?”

“Can’t wait.” Your tone is flat, forehead pressed against the shower.

He’s impressed that you hardly flinch while he sutchures the wound. As he does so he can’t help but think about how quickly something like this would heal on him. He’d hardly bother to stitch it. He almost… envies you.

Once you’re stitched he tapes gauze over the wound and cleans the dried blood from the back of your leg. “You’re set, though I’d still maybe get it checked out.”

“Thanks, doctor Steve,” you turn and he’s eye level with those maddening lace underwear again.

Forcing his eyes away he stands, stepping out of the shower, heading to the sink, “Yeah, well I didn’t do it for free, Zelda. You owe me-”

“Y/N,” you say softly. He looks back at you as he soaps his hands. “My name… is Y/N.”

His face stretches into a smile. It’s pretty, suits you. Drying his hands he turns to you, “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

It’s not the smirk he’s grown to expect, the curling of your lips is genuine, soft, lighting your eyes. You nod, “I obviously owe you a new suit too,” you gesture to the bloodstained slacks. “Think I could add some other clothes to the tab? Unfortunately, my dress has seen better days.”

“Sure.” He heads into his room pulling sweats and a tee from a drawer. You’re rinsing the shower with the handheld head when he walks back in. He sets the clothes on the counter. “Don’t worry about the suit. Not like I bought it.”

“Still, thanks.”

“If I leave you in here are you gonna disappear again?”

“No promises,” the smirk back on your lips. He leans in the door, arms crossed. “I’m not going anywhere. I owe you, remember?”

He nods and leaves you. Grabbing fresh clothes himself he goes to the guest room to change too. When he opens the door, there you are. Before he can say anything your eyes fix on something behind him.

“Is that…?” You gesture to the almost finished canvas of St. Louis.

“Yeah…” He hasn’t felt this awkward in more than 70 years. “It… I…”

“You did this?!” You look awestruck.

He shrugs, “Yeah. I went to art school back in my day. It was kinda the only thing I was good at… well besides getting the shit kicked outta me.”

Your gaze has shifted from him back to the painting. “Steve… honestly… this is stunning.”

“Eh. I’m still not happy with the sky, it’s not the right kind of purple. The gradient is off too and my shadows need work.”

“Shut up. It’s beautiful. What the hell are you doing being a soldier?!”

“Could ask you the same thing.”

You scoff, “Nah,” something dark flits over your features when you turn back. “There’s no spectacular hidden talent here.”

“I doubt that.” He gives you a warm smile, “You’re one hell of a dancer.”

Your head tilts back in a laugh, “That’s me bein’ a ho. Nothing particularly special there.” You pat his chest as you walk from the room. “Mind if I nab some of that whiskey I saw in there?”

“Not at all.” He follows you out, “Have a seat and I’ll pour you a glass.” His eyes follow you to the living room, unable to ignore the curve of your ass as you walk.

He pours you a hearty bit of whiskey, certain your leg has to be hurting and he doesn’t have any other pain killer. For posterity, he pours some for himself too. It does nothing for him but the smoky taste is comforting.

“Here,” he hands you the tumbler.

“Thanks,” you wrap your fingers around the glass. Suddenly you look tired, smaller somehow.

He pulls the armchair close to the couch, not wanting to crowd you. For a few minutes, silence hangs. As adamant as he was earlier about getting answers, looking at you now he just wants you to rest.

“So…” you break the silence.

He sighs, “Let’s start with why you asked me out tonight.”

One perfect brow raises, “Because I wanted to.”

“And someone trying to kill you had absolutely nothing to do with it?”

“Not… exactly.” He doesn’t honor that with an answer, just stares at you. Nervously your nails tap the glass of the tumbler. “A few weeks ago I got tapped for a gig. Blind hire. Usually, I don’t even entertain jobs like that unless the pay is very good. This was, but when they told me who…”

Ah… he sees now. “How much is Captain America’s head going for these days?”

“Not funny.”

“I’m not laughin,’ just curious.”

“Millions.” Not bad. At least he knew he was worth something to someone, even if it was dead. “Thing is,” your voice pulls him back, “I have a, uh, reputation of sorts…”

“I don’t doubt that,” he smiles up at you through his lashes and your features soften.

“Fuck you.” Playfully you toss a couch pillow at him. “See, if you hire me you had better be damn sure your hands are cleaner than the person you’re sending me after.”

“If they’re not?”

That smirk plays on your lips. “Well, most times I’ll flip the gig. Tell whoever you hired me to go after what you’re doing, offer my services, usually make more than I was gonna before. And if not it’s at least more satisfying.”

“Judge, jury, and executioner.” He can’t pretend he approves.

You shrug, “I don’t trick myself into thinking it’s justice. It’s a job. That’s all. I just sleep better knowing I didn’t go after someone innocent.” His brows rise. “Yeah. That’s kind of my niche. I’m who the underground sends after their own.”

“Seems like a fine line to walk.”

“I’m very, very good at what I do. So, I’m tolerated.”

“Guessing I’m not dirty enough to justify being your mark.”

“Well… I’m sure in some ways… but not enough for me to put a bullet in you.”

“So you turned ‘em down.”

“No.” He can’t help but look surprised, you laugh. “Told them I needed 48 hours. I knew they’d go underground once I said no, so I needed time. There wasn’t any trail I could find to figure out who was putting the hit out but I did find a tie to my Popov job.”

You slam back the rest of your whiskey, “It was also a blind hire, great pay, but I didn’t look too far into it because he was a fuckin’ monster. Hell, I would have don’t it for a smoke and a beer. But I think they wanted to see if I I could get to someone even with you there…”

“And you did.”

“Yup.” You roll the glass in your hands, “Realized I wasn’t getting anything else on my own so contacted them in 30 hours, they thought I was going to say yes so they were pretty willing to share what they wanted.”

“They wanted more than me dead?”

“No, more like how… They didn’t care about anything else other than it looking like you went out in the line of duty a-”

“Hero’s death.” Bitterness fills his mouth.

“Something like that. And it was to be local, close to DC.”

“We don’t do many jobs close to home…”

“Figured as much.”

He nods, “So they worked out you were going to tell me and came after you?”

You shrug, “That or they planned on taking me out once I turned them down, just finally had a good window.”

He doesn’t like this. Not because someone was gunning for him, that honestly didn’t phase him. He doesn’t like that you were in the crosshairs over it. You may have a questionable day job but… you weren’t a bad person.

“So,” you slowly stand and walk to the table where your clutch and shoes wait, “I was thinking you could cash in on some of those clearly unused vacation hours.” Picking up your things you turn to him smiling. “Maybe see St. Louis for real or Notre Dame, Greece is great this time of year, or-”

“I’m not running.” He’s sort of touched and a part of him would love to go to any of those places with you but… Steve Rogers didn’t stand down from a fight.

“Steve… if someone tried to hire me they aren’t fucking around. They will find someone and-”

He stands, “I’ll be fine.” His hand rests on your shoulder, you lean into it a bit, taking weight off your leg.

Looking up at him your face is hard, “You won’t be.”

“And if I’m not America can have her martyr back, plus someone gets a great payday. Why does it matter to you?”

“Why doesn’t it matter to you?”

He holds your gaze, meaning every word, “Who’s gonna miss Steve Rogers?”

“Me.” He honestly wasn’t expecting that. A sad smile lifts your full lips, “I think I’d miss Steve Rogers… a lot.”

Something in him snaps at that. He’d felt so numb for so long and now he’s suddenly burning. Cupping your face he leans down pressing his lips to yours.

Your things clatter to the floor as you return the kiss, arms curling around his neck. He wraps you in his arms, holding you close and lifts you just a touch as your tongue finds its way between his teeth. The taste of whiskey and desire fill his mouth.

Steve can’t remember wanting something, someone, in so long…

You break the kiss, eyes burning into his own. “Please don’t do something stupid… please.”

“Promise I won’t if you stay.” Hope flickers in his chest for just a moment.

“I can’t…” It flickers out. “I’m sorry.” You release him and he makes sure you’re steady on your feet before he bends to retrieve your things. When he looks back he swears that’s disappointment on your face…

“Even just for tonight? Your leg…”

“Too risky,” your index finger traces his jaw, bottom lip catching in your teeth.

“Can I at least get you home?”

“I can manage, Cap.” You sigh heavily, “I should go…”

His eyes glue to the wood grain of the floor. “Ok.”

“I’ll see you around…” He looks up, then, the soft smile on your features telling him this is a request.

“Maybe.” You nod, darkness flickering behind your eyes. He won’t make promises he can’t keep. Holding your things he turns to walk you out, now just wanting this to be over.

At the door, you both stand awkwardly. “Here,” he hands you your things.

“Thanks.” you take them. “For everything.”

“Don’t mention it. Thanks for the warning.”

You nod. “Steve…” Your hand rests over his heart before your pleading eyes catch his, “Please be safe.”

He wraps your hand in his lifting it to his lips, “You too.”

You nod when he releases your hand, no doubt noting his avoidance. “Well, until next time.”

He opens the door, “Next time.” And then you’re gone.

The next few months crawl by. Anytime you’re not working is always miserably boring but you needed to lay low unless you wanted to end up in a shallow grave somewhere.

Your new found free time had left room for you to keep digging into Steve’s hit. What you were finding was… well, nothing short of a national crisis so wild and far-reaching that if you hadn’t been doing the research yourself you’d think it was bullshit. Honestly, discovering that the government was run by lizard people would have been more believable.

More than once you try to convince yourself to meet up with Steve, share all this. But… he wasn’t in a good place, that had been clear. You were pretty sure he wasn’t much better since you left him if your mostly unanswered texts were any indication. If you were to tell him you had evidence that Hydra, the organization he’d given his life to see destroyed, was still functioning… And that it was very possible that S.H.I.E.L.D. was involved… What would he do?

One morning you’re on your third cup of coffee, wondering how you’ll fill your day when your phone rings. The little hand drawn picture of a dick on a napkin that pops up tells you who it is.

“The fuck you want, Wade?” You hear Vanessa laugh in the background and can’t help but smile. “Am I on speaker?!”

“Of course. I only conduct sensitive business in the loudest way possible you know that. Oh and also, rude.”

You laugh, “What’s going on.”

Crunching echos on the other end before he answers. “You asked me to tell you if I heard any chatter about someone getting tapped for that Captain America gig you turned down?”

“Yeah?”

“Well. I heard something.” He says nothing else.

“Wilson. I know you love foreplay but now is not the time.”

“Ugh, you’re so boring.”

“She prefers me anyway,” Vanessa quips.

“She’s not wrong.”

He laughs, “Why am I friends with you again? You’re rude to me, prefer my girlfriend, you never come slap me around anymore, I mean honestly, Y/N.”

“Wade, I swear I’ll do more than slap you around next time if you just stop dicking around and tell me what you got.”

“Ooooh, see that’s what I’m talking about.” More crunching, “But in all seriousness, that’s not the promise I want from you. I tell you this, you tell him if you have to, but don’t get involved, this shit is way too risky.”

“Aww, you care.”

“Fuck you.” He sighs, “Private airport, DC, supposedly some child-smuggling ring, links to human experimentation. That’s at least the story on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s books. Don’t have an exact date but it’s likely going to be within a week.”

Bold of them to stick with that structure even after telling you… but it was a good enough cover, and if it worked… Fuck.

“Y/N… don’t be a dumbass. Why you give a fuck I don’t know but if you need to tell him, do it. That’s it though. Don’t get yourself killed.”

“I won’t, promise.”

“Good.”

“Thanks, Wade, seriously.”

“Anytime.”

“Love ya, Y/N!” Vanessa calls out.

“You too boo! Fuck ‘em up for me.” She laughs and the call ends.

For the next ten minutes, you just stare at your phone. Your fingers trace the shape of your lips, remembering the way he tasted, how warm his body felt… Suddenly you realize you may actually miss him.

Finally, you pick up the phone and tap out a text:

Y/N: Hey. We need to talk ASAP. Call me?

Hours come and go. You run, work out, clean, anything to try to keep yourself distracted but it doesn’t help. Every minute he doesn’t respond fills you with dread.

When you can’t stand it any longer you call him. It rings and rings until his voicemail picks up. You don’t leave one.

Two days later you feel physically sick from the stress. What if you were too late? What if he…

The phone rings, and you practically drop it in your haste to pull the thing from your pocket.

“Steve!?” You hate how desperate you sound.

“It’s the job with the kids isn’t it?” His tone stings a little… still…

“Yeah, it is. Don’t know who took it but it’s a safe bet it’s not someone to fuck around with.”

“Right. Well, thanks for the heads up.”

“Steve?!”

“What.”

“I… uh…” You don’t know what you expected… this wasn’t it. “Just… ya know, don’t die.”

“No promises.” With that, he hangs up.

It hurts more than you want to admit. Angry you storm to the garage and begin beating your punching bag until your knuckles bleed and tears run down your face.

You had made peace that the life you chose was a fairly solitary one. It was better that way. For some reason, though he made you wish that wasn’t the case… it didn’t matter. You couldn’t have him, he didn’t want you… And he’d likely be in a flag covered casket by the end of the week.

That thought makes you freeze mid punch.

No. You can’t let that happen. Rushing through the house you gear up, wrap your knuckles, and in less than an hour, your bike is thundering down the highway.

You’d been living in Pittsburg so it doesn’t take you long to get to DC. The sun had just set when you stand at his door, banging, heart threatening to burst from your chest.

As soon as it’s clear that he’s not going to answer you go outside and work your way up the fire escape, prying the window open like you did the last time you were here.

“Steve?” You call out, begging that if nothing else you’ll see his shield… There’s no Steve and no shield. “Fuck.”

Wade didn’t tell you what private airport. You wrack your brain, there were two that were legit just outside the city but you knew there were a couple more exclusive ones that wouldn’t be found through a simple Google search. You don’t hesitate to call in some contacts to find out where this may be going down. If someone wanted to rat you out so be it.

Favors called in, promises given, you finally have it narrowed down to two places. One on the books one off. The first one is the obvious choice, used mainly by wealthy dignitaries looking to avoid customs and it’s closer. It’s also a dead end. Cursing yourself you pray you’re not too late as you rush to the other private airport near College Park.

The place is dead… as is the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent near the front of the small check-in area. It reminds you how easily this could go wrong. You slip your phone out and text Wade.

Y/N: Look. If I eat it tonight this isn’t on you. Idk why he matters but he does and I couldn’t stay out of it. You know where my stash is, take Vanessa somewhere nice if I don’t come out of this. Love ya.

If you did live he’d likely kick your ass after this. You’d welcome it. Taking a deep breath you stalk slowly deeper into the airport.

The silence eats at you making your anxiety rise. If there was still a fight going on you’d hear something… if he was…

You hear glass breaking from down the small terminal. Immediately you take cover. Unable to see you let your ears do the work. Two, maybe three, a groan and a snap echos in the space. Well… two people. A shot goes off and you flinch but you have to look.

The merc isn’t someone you know but he’s big, a mountain of a man who’s bulk rivals Steve’s. Brass knuckles on his massive hand, in the other a gun.

“Honestly,” he speaks, clearly American, “I thought this would be harder.” A sinister grin fills his face, “But who am I to complain?”

He rushes Steve, landing a blow to his solar plexus. Steve gasps and the shield clatters to the ground. Before you know it your gun is in your hand and you shoot, not to kill but to distract.

“What the fuck?!” He takes cover as you let loose another shot.

“You scare easy for a big fucker!” You taunt more to let Steve know who’s here.

The glint of the metal on his knuckles tips you off before he can take his shot and you tumble toward Steve who’s still getting his breath. Pushing him to the side you fire.

“What the hell are you-”

“Shut the fuck up.” You growl at him. From your belt, you pull a flash bomb and hurl it toward the merc. In a second it goes off and you pull Steve to his feet. “Come on.”

You head toward the front of the terminal, previously abandoned but you can hear the shuffle of people. Steve pulls you against him and against the wall, shield in front of you.

“Not yours?” You ask looking up at his bloody face partly covered by the cowl.

“No.”

“Great.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says low in your ear.

“Neither should you.” You push away from him, “This way.” Hopefully, you could get out the back of the terminal before the merc got his vision back.

Holding close to the wall you manage to make it to a side door. Relief begins to tickle at you. You just may get out of this alive. With no assailants near, you turn to him.

“So, I warn you that someone is trying to kill you and all you can do is run straight for the reaper!? I mean I get you don’t like me or approve or whatever but come on you could have at least-”

Unblinking he flings his shield behind you with a swish. You turn in time to see it slam into someone's neck, snapping it.

“-listened to me,” you finish your statement voice flat with restrained surprise.

“Never said I didn’t like you,” he pushes past you to retrieve the shield. “We should aim for the back.” You nod and follow him.

You cover one another as you slowly make your way to the gated back portion of the airstrip. The shrubbery would provide just enough cover once you got there and-

A bullet grazes Steve’s shoulder causing his shield arm to go slack.

“Shit,” he hisses. The shot came from the single-engine plane you had just cleared.

Whirling you take aim at the assailant and catch them in the chest as they try to take cover off the wing. With a clatter they tumble to the ground, head making a sick crack on the asphalt.

“They must have sent a team,” you say kneeling to look at his wound.

“Ya think?” He sets the shield against his calf for a moment while he tries to move his arm.

“You’re making me regret showing up to save your ass.” He huffs out a little laugh.

It happens so fast you can’t think. A shot rings to your left and you both look. He must have seen or heard something you didn’t because he’s got you by the shoulders pulling you to the ground and under him. You can feel the moment the bullet hits his body. He groans and goes heavy on top of you.

“Steve!” He says nothing and you manage to push him off gently. Blood stains the navy of his suit a darker shade and you can see the tip of the bullet glinting against the fabric. Through and through.

You grab the shield and deflect another volley of bullets from the two of you. Glancing over you see the big man from before. Great.

“Just go,” Steve groans.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up earlier?” You rip your shirt off and toss it to him to press to his wound. “Don’t bleed out on me.”

Thinking fast you rise to your feet, shield before you and you fire at the man. One in the head, two in the chest. He’s only part of your problem. You can see movement toward the terminal…

The two of you need cover and a very loud distraction. You pull two smoke grenades and toss them toward the plane the shooter had been on. In just a minute there’s enough of a screen to shield you both for a moment.

“Ok,” you turn to him. “Cover your ears, it’s gonna get loud and then we’re gonna have to run like hell. Can you manage?”

He grimaces, blood suffusing his side. “Sure, why not.”

There’s no other choice. You pull the two concussion grenades you keep for special occasions from their holster. Flicking the pins and hoping for the best you hurl them one after the other in two directions before covering you both with the shield as best you can.

The one that lands by the plane has the desired effect, it blows close by and will only cause a bigger hazard as the fire you can see through the smoke spreads. The other doesn’t hit much but is loud enough to distract. Good.

“Time to go old man.” You help him up, shield on your free arm and you make your way to the fence. The link is easy to cut and you’re quickly through it into the brush.

“Where are we even going, Y/N? Just leave me here, my people will come and-”

“I’m not fucking leaving you.” Your tone is sharp. “We aren’t in the wilderness. There’s a strip mall not far. I’ll jump a car and get you…” Where?

“Just get me home.” You stare at him trying to gauge just how much he wanted to die. “If you take me to a hospital they’re gonna look for me and innocent people may get hurt. I’m not bleeding enough for this to be life-threatening-”

“You don’t-”

“You can stitch me up.” His smile is crooked.

“I’m not a fucking medic, Rogers.” If he died… You were wasting time. “Whatever fine. Come on.”

You manage to get him back to his apartment alive.

His massive form leans against you heavily. “Don’t fucking pass out on me now, Rogers.”

He grunts in response. “Table.”

Hastily you clear the mail and books from the table top. The heavy wooden furniture groans under him as he sits on it, shaking fingers fumbling to undo his tactical suit.

“Here,” you push his hands away. There are an annoying amount of zippers and connection points but you eventually get it loose to his waist.

Moving behind him you lean across the table to help slide the suit down his arms. At first, your breath catches at the way the muscles of his shoulders and upper back ripple, a fucking Grecian statue of a man. When your eyes trail down though…

Blood stains his side, leaking slowly from the bullet hole. Bruising, deep and painful, already blossoms around the wound. His arm is nowhere near as bad but still needs attention. You swallow hard, trying to calm the panic in your chest.

A clink on the table draws your eye away. The bullet, intact and bloody lies there.

“Jesus, Steve…” Your fingers barely touch the unbruised skin close to the wound. He shivers.

“Not to be an ass but-”

“Shit! Yeah, sorry.” Hurridly you run to the bathroom and tug out the first aid kit, in the same place it was before, and soak rags in warm water. When you come back in you notice Steve sway.

You slam everything down on the table. “Steve,” you grab him by the shoulders, “hey,” your hands move to cup his face. “Look at me.” Those cool blue eyes meet yours, hazy and distant, “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

His hands catch your wrists, strong fingers digging in. “No,” his voice is stern, eyes seeming to clear.

“Ok,” you don’t want to waste time fighting him. You wash your hands in scalding water, slip glovers over them, and pray to a god you had long since given up on that you don’t kill this man.

When you’re finally wrapping a bandage around him you feel like you’ve just sprinted 10 miles. Your hands are shaking, your nerves are fried, you want to throw up and pass out and have 40 drinks but… you did the fucking thing. So far, so good. He hadn’t fainted, bled out, or died.

You take a shaky breath as you secure the bandage and he catches your hands in his bloodstained paws. Slowly you drag your eyes to meet his, barely breathing.

“Thank you,” his features are so soft.

A dry laugh slips from you, “Thanks for not dying.” He squeezes your hands a bit.

“Come on,” you pull back to help him up. “Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed.”

“You don’t hav-”

“Consider it me protecting my hard work. I’m not about to have gone through that for you to fuck it up.”

“Fair,” he groans as he stands.

You guide him to the bathroom and he hesitates, “Seriously I-”

“Don’t blush Rogers, you’ve lost too much blood to send it running in places it shouldn’t be.” The look on his face is slightly shocked. You can’t help but laugh, “Look, do you really think you can get out of the rest of this gear on your own?” He shrugs. “No. You can’t. Don’t be a baby.”

Gently you push him toward the bathroom. “Sit.” He does so on the edge of the tub.

Steve watches you kneel before him, sure fingers untying the laces on his boots.

There was a time in his life he was used to being cared for. Honestly, it felt both like yesterday and an age ago… Unsurprisingly he still absolutely hates it.

You were right though. He wasn’t in the shape to do it himself.

“Stand for a sec, we need to get this suit off.”

He swallows hard. It wasn’t that he was particularly shy… but…

“I can’t let you hang around in bloody clothes, man.”

All he can manage is a nod. His legs shake as he stands and his head swims a bit from blood loss and lack of sleep. When was the last time he had a solid night’s sleep…

“Stay with me,” you reach out steadying him.

“Tryin’,” his tongue is thick in his mouth.

“Just a bit longer.” You give him a gentle reassuring smile.

He feels almost drunk. “You have a beautiful smile.” The words just fall from his lips. Some part of him is mortified until your smile brightens even more before you look away. “Now who’s blushing?” He teases.

“Ya know I was gonna let you keep some of your dignity and give you a towel to cover up with. Now I’m not so sure.” You look back at him and wink.

“I got nothin’ to hide.”

“I bet.” That spark in your eyes makes the muscles in his abdomen clench painfully.

He’d be lying if he tried to pretend he’d never wondered what you’d look like on your knees. However, in none of his imaginings were you working a blood-soaked tac suit off him while he fought to stay conscious. But since when had anything in his life gone to plan?

“Boxers?”

He blinks at you, “What?”

“Your boxers. You need some that don’t look like evidence.”

He looks down, the ones he’s wearing are half grey and half crimson. “Top drawer.” You disappear and return with boxers and sweats.

You hand him a towel, “Thought I’d be nice.”

Wordlessly he takes it, holding it loosely in front of himself. When your fingers hook around the elastic of his boxers, your body lowering slowly down with the garment, eyes locked on his, he feels like he can’t breathe.

“Hangin’ in there, Cap?” Mischief glints in your eyes.

“Mhm,” he nods his head. You turn to wet a rag and, despite his best efforts, his mind fills with images of tearing your tac pants off your body and fucking you over the sink until you can’t stand.

His throat goes dry as you turn back. Unsuccessfully he tries holding the towel out a touch further to hide how hard he is.

The corner of your mouth ticks up, your warm hand on his chest causing his heart to beat a little faster. “What’d I say about keeping blood where it belongs?” Your voice is a purr.

Steve huffs out a small laugh, grimacing at the movement. You drop to your knees, gently washing the blood off his thigh. Bullet wound be damned. His fingers release his grip on the towel.

“Steve…” Your eyes lift up to his, the tip of your tongue flitting out to touch your bottom lip. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You just got shot… I don’t want to hur-“

“Please.” He doesn’t care. Doesn’t care that his knees feel week, that his head is filled with fog, or that he could have died tonight. He didn’t die. And he wants you… it’s the first time he’s wanted anything… anyone, in so long…

He won’t force you but his eyes are begging, he knows. As you stand disappointment feels heavy in his gut. But…

The bloodstained rag lands with a thwack in the tub. Your calloused palm rubs the stubble on his cheek before pulling his face to yours. It’s a soft kiss, your mouth warm and inviting. He groans as your hand wraps around his cock.

“Sit,” you whisper against his lips. He lowers to the edge of the tub and you settle between his thighs.

Your fingers trail feather light touches down his chest, your lips following close behind. Lust and adrenaline clear his mind. Even so, there’s nothing but you right now.

Those eyes of yours look up at him, smirk on your full lips. Your tongue languidly runs up the length of him, catching the bead of moisture gathering at his head. His breath stutters and you hesitate.

“Please don’t stop.” He needs this… maybe more than he wants it.

Without hesitation your tongue traces his head before taking the length of him, your eyes never wavering. He hit’s the back of your throat and a growl rumbles in his chest. One hand grips the tub’s edge his other cupping the back of your head.

Lifting up, your hand wraps around his shaft, twisting a touch as your mouth applies the faintest suction to his head. The fingers of your free hand run over his balls and down…

His head falls back. Deft fingers massage the tender flesh just behind his sack while your palm cups his balls, pressing up ever so slightly. After only a few minutes the steady motion… the sound… his exhaustion… everything comes to a peak.

“Y/N… I… I…” The words won’t form. He can’t…

Fingers tangle in your thick hair, his body tenses, and the sound that tears through him is not quite a scream but it’s more than a moan. It reverberates against the tile walls. His body shakes.

When his vision clears he sees you, eye level, brushing a drop of cum from the edge of your grinning mouth. His eyes flutter.

“If you faint on me I swear…”

“No, I… I’m good.” With a shaking hand, he pulls your face to his, kissing you softly. “I am afraid I won’t be able to repay the favor tonight I-”

“Don’t. Consider it a thank you for taking a bullet for me.”

“I didn-”

“Yes, you did.” Your gaze is stern and he knows he can’t argue. He did. He knows he did.

Cleaned up, dressed, and thoroughly spent he lets you lead him to his bed. He winces, as his back meets the mattress.

You sit next to him on the bed, “Do you have anything you can take for pain?”

He shakes his head, “Nothing really works. Perk of being a super soldier…”

“That’s some shit.” He nods. “Are you comfortable enough?”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” your gaze shifts away.

Sighing you stand. For reasons he’s too exhausted to identify, panic grips his chest and his hand shoots out for yours.

“Don’t go… please… I… I don’t…” Want to be alone. Are the words his pride just won’t let him say, even now.

Your fingers lace between his, “I wasn’t gonna leave you, Steve. Not like this.” Relief floods his body. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

He tightens his grip. “You don’t have to sleep out there… it’s a big bed.” A hopeful, crooked smile lifts his lips.

“Ok… but I’m stealing a shirt.” Your smile makes your eyes flash and his heart leap.

“Fine by me.”

He drifts off once you disappear into the bathroom only waking when he feels you slide into the bed next to him. Eyes at half mast he reaches out to you. Carefully you let him pull you close.

This… the feeling of you next to him, your hand over his heart, cheek on his chest… he didn’t know how desperately he needed this. Despite the wound in his side and everything in his head, he sleeps hard through the night.

Morning’s light slowly wakes him. Already the serum in his veins has worked overtime, the pain far less than it was last night.

A rustling next to him draws his gaze and warmth fills his chest. He expected you to be gone by morning… Instead, you’re sound asleep, back pressed to his side.

His smile is so wide it makes his cheeks ache a bit. Worried that he’ll wake you if he moves he contentedly dozes, opening his eyes here and there to watch the steady rise and fall of your breath or study the colors of your hair in the sunlight.

He wants to paint you… just like this… He closes his eyes, imagining the canvas.

“Good morning,” your voice sounds petal soft. His eyes open to see your face in the warm light, a soft smile on your lips.

“Morning.” Neither of you says more. Somehow you’re content to study the other… Until your phone begins to blare a song from your pants pocket.

“Shit!” Frantically you scramble up and fish the phone from your pants.

“Hey!” Your tone is forced. Someone screams something on the other end, he can’t quite make out the words though. “Not dead. Sorry… I… I know… I… Wade… Just…” He sees your features shift, “Yeah… Yeah, I got it. Love you too.”

You toss the phone on the end of the bed and rub your hands over your face. The last bit of that conversation had him burning though…

“Boyfriend?”

“What?” Your brows knit. “Oh! Fuck no.” You laugh a little and he feels himself cool. “Best friend. He tipped me off about last night, told me not to get involved…”

“And he’s pissed you didn’t listen.”

“Something like that…” You look at him, eyes… sad.

“Y/N?”

“I have to go…” You catch your bottom lip in your teeth.

He shoots up from the bed, wincing at the pain but not stopped by it. “Why? Do they know you-”

“No,” you hold your hands up, resting them against his chest when he stops in front of you. “They suspect though so it’s best I get the hell outta dodge before they can confirm anything.”

“You don’t have to go…” His voice holds a twinge of desperation. “I can get you S.H.I.E.L.D. protection,” something darkens your features at this but he keeps going, “and I would… look out for you.” He rests his hands on your shoulders.

Your eyes fix to the floor, “I can’t, Steve. It’s too risky for both of us.” The twinge in his chest is alleviated a touch by the look of longing on your face when he tilts your chin up.

“I need you to promise me something.” Your somber tone chills him.

“Ok…”

“Look out for yourself, watch your back. Don’t trust anyone, even S.H.I.E.L.D. to protect you…”

“Y/N… I’ve got good people, you don’t have to-”

“Promise me, Steve. Even good people can be bought.”

“They couldn’t buy you,” he traces the curve of your brow down to your soft, rose-colored lips.

That smirk again, “I’m not good people.”

“Yes, you are.” Pulling you to him he kisses you, hard this time, hungry. A few steps back and he has you pinned against the wall, he can feel your heart thundering in your chest.

“You could stay and have my back,” his lips graze the tender flesh under your ear.

“I can’t,” your voice is thick with emotion. When he looks at you tears shimmer in your eyes, threatening to fall.

“Please…” A trembling hand cups his face, “Please, promise me you’ll be smart… don’t-” Your voice cracks but you fight to keep your composure. “Don’t run toward death…”

He’s not certain it’s a promise he can keep but… “I promise, Y/N.” One tear escapes the corner of your eye, he thumbs it away. “But you have to promise the same.”

A bitter laugh pops out, “I’m not the one to worry about here but… yeah. I promise.”

He kisses you again, wanting to hold on to the way it makes his chest burn, the movement of your lips on his the… Feeling of being alive, not just angry, for the first time in a long time.

The two of you say nothing else, each seemingly not trusting what may come from your mouth, as you change. He sits on the edge of the bed, watching you, dreading the moment he has to let you go.

“You should definitely get that looked at,” you gesture to the bandage.

“What? Don’t trust your tabletop nursing skills?”

“Absolutely not.”

He slowly stands, “I will.”

Without prompting, you wrap your arms around him, taking care to avoid his injury, and tuck your face in his neck. The two of you stand like that for a while.

There are so many things he wants to say but he doesn’t. He just contents himself with burying his nose in your hair, allowing the warm intimacy of the moment to wash over him.

A heavy sigh tickles over his skin and he knows it’s time to let go.

At the door you turn back to him, eyes glassy once more. “Remember, don’t trust anyone… not with everything.”

“I got it.” One final time his lips press to yours, slow and longing.

Your forehead rests against his, your eyes speaking volumes, as you whisper, “I’ll miss you, Steve Rogers.”

Those three words hit him harder than that bullet had. His mouth hangs slack just a touch.

You smile, “Gonna catch a fly.” Playfully you lift up his chin. “Be safe.”

“You too, Y/N.”

One more kiss… and again… you’re gone.

True to form. Steve Rogers surprises you. This time by wheedling his way into your heart and mind so deep you cannot fucking shake him.

To protect you both you don’t call or text, the risk too high. You do, however, send him a letter. There’s no return address and no long written missives. The papers contain numbers, coordinates for a house in Buffalo New York and two words. Love, Zelda With a red lip print over them.

You don’t expect him to come here. All you wanted was for him to know you were safe and that if he needed a place to go he had it.

A few jobs came and went. Winter faded into spring. You began to wonder if maybe you could meet up now if things had quieted enough. Because despite trying desperately to convince yourself otherwise… you desperately missed him.

Then all hell broke loose.

Glued in front of your TV you watch in horror as S.H.I.E.L.D., quite literally falls. You’re blowing up with information from all your contacts. Inbox, dark web forums, everything.

Hours pass that feel like days… No one had reported on Steve’s condition, just that Captain America had been spotted in the fight. A curious numb sensation creeps over you at the thought that he may be gone.

Finally, someone comes through. This time it’s not your usual sources but an old military friend. Rogers was in his hospital, injured but not at risk of death, and no, he wasn’t alone. Someone, a male friend, was with him. Had been the whole time. You nearly sob from relief.

As media attention on the fiasco rises you know there’s no way for you to get close without being spotted. The last thing he needs is to be seen with someone like you. So you allow yourself to be thankful that he’s still here, letting that be enough.

Several weeks later you pass out hard after a long, trying day.

The Hydra files Romanoff released had rocked your world. Nearly everyone you knew had been pinged by those bastards at some point. Including you. This meant everyone was reevaluating their loyalties, cutting ties, and more than a few had already been put down… The fear and paranoia were real and exhausting.

When a sound from your kitchen hits your ears in the middle of the night you shoot up. Hand already wrapped around the pistol under your pillow. Apparently, this was the day.

Not bothering with formalities like pants, you quietly creep to your cracked bedroom door and nudge it open just enough. Without a sound you stalk down the short hall, breath bated.

All you can see in the dim light is the intruder’s back. Wide, shoulders move as they finish a bottle of whiskey and set it down, not even trying to be quiet. A car passes and illuminates familiar golden hair. Steve…

You lower your gun, “Wanna tell me what you’re doing in my kitchen at three in the morning?”

He turns slowly, the shadows making his features almost sinister. “Did you know?” Voice barely above a whisper.

“Know what?” You set the gun on a side table and move to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen island. “About S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

Almost too fast for your eyes to follow, he rounds the counter, grabbing your shoulders and pinning you hard against the wall. Your breath is heavy from a mix of fear and maybe a touch of excitement.

“Fuck S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Ok,” your voice breathy as you try to regain composure. “Well for what it’s worth, no, I suspected S.H.I.E.L.D. but I didn’t have anything concrete. Hydra…” Your eyes dart away, “That I did know about…”

“No,” his fingers dig into your upper arms, his breath scented with whiskey. “The Winter Soldier,” he spits the title out, “did you know who he was?!”

You look back to him, brows knit. “Uh… until a few weeks ago I thought he was the bogeyman of criminals… so… no. Should I know him?”

Some of the rage seeps from Steve’s features, “Steve?” You place your hand against his unshaven cheek.

In an instant, his mouth covers yours, warm and whiskey flavored. You almost groan in satisfaction. His massive form presses into you and you savor the sensation.

He runs his hands down your sides as your arms curl around his neck. When he slips his hand in the front of your boy shorts you make a small sound, you already know what he’ll find.

When he feels your moisture, those strong fingers sliding just over your damp folds a grin fills his face but he doesn’t make a move.

“Please,” you echo his request from months before.

That's all it takes. His lips crash against yours, teeth knocking slightly, and two of his fingers slip in, stretching you open. You moan into his mouth, hips bucking, your body hungry for him.

Wanting to touch him your hands move under his shirt, holding his sides as he works your cunt. When his fingers curl up just enough your nails dig into his skin. You feel the tension gather in your abdomen. Wordlessly you beg him not to stop.

“Steve…” Your breath hitches.

His thumb rolls lightly over your clit. Your head would have thudded against the wall had he not cupped it, forcing your gaze to stay on him. His blue eyes burn into you, he picks up the pace, thumb making steady circles over your throbbing clit.

“Fuck… fuck…”

“Come for me,” he growls.

You do. In earth-shattering fashion. Crying out, electricity pulses through your body, your legs tremble, your knees give way. He pulls his hand out of your underwear and catches you, holding your trembling body close.

This lasts only until you feel the length of him move through his denim. That was incredible but you want all of him.

Your unsteady hands reach for his belt. Fingers, that can’t quite obey orders yet try to convince the offending garment to give up its prize. His hands grasp yours, stopping their work.

He kisses you, the distraction enough that you don’t resist him as he spins you toward the island. Strong hands turn you, pressing your back to his chest.

Lips trail down your neck, goosebumps cover your skin. He catches the hem of your tee and pulls it over your head. Not trusting your legs to hold you, your hands brace against the counter and his teeth bite at the soft flesh where your neck and shoulders meet.

“Steve,” you breathe out.

The tinkling of his belt buckle hits your ears and fuck, a zipper going down had never sounded so promising.

His hand wraps lightly around your throat, tilting your head back just under his chin. “How do you want it?” His voice burning velvet.

Your eyes flit to his, “Give me everything. Don’t hold back.” Lust sparks in his eyes and he kisses you breathless.

Moving your underwear to the side with one hand and pressing your chest to the counter with the other he slams the full length of his cock into you. You gasp raggedly, body pressing back to him. This is the best kind of hurt.

Steel fingers dig into your hips holding you steady as he fucks you so hard you forget anything else. Your moans and cries mingle with his low sounds. Everything is this.

His hands release you but he doesn’t stop fucking you. Vaguely, you’re aware of something falling to your side. When he grabs a fistful of your hair pulling you up against him you realize it was his shirt, his burning flesh pressed to your own.

The other hand dips into your sopping boy shorts and effortlessly locates your clit once more, his cock throbbing inside you.

“Look at me,” he says in a gravel tone. You do as he asks and a whimper slips from you, his fingers and cock driving you mad. “You like that, baby?”

Words are lost. He fills your parted lips with a kiss and you fill his mouth with your cries of pleasure as you come once more.

You can hardly breathe now, much less stand. With a self-satisfied smirk on his lips, he lifts you into his arms. Your hungry mouth kisses and nibbles the salty skin of his neck as he carries you back to your room.

Tossing you on the bed he slips out of his jeans and you free yourself of your underwear. For a moment he just stares at you, on your back in the dim space, legs spread, waiting for him to take you.

Moving with the fluidity of a big cat he hovers over you. Your hands trail over the solid muscles of his back, fascinated at the power housed in this body.

This time he enters you slowly. Your legs wrap around him and a low rumble vibrates through his chest.

“Y/N,” he hums next to your ear.

You grab his face, bringing it up so you can see him. His breath is ragged. Intentionally you tighten your walls against him his lids flutter and a soft moan falls from his lips.

His pace quickens and your body responds, hips rising to meet him, demanding evermore.

“Fuck,” he breathes out grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand. The other lifts your head to more easily kiss you.

“C-can I,” he stutters between kisses.

“Yes,” your legs tighten around him, “god yes.”

He roars, your back arches up, moan raw tearing from some hidden place in you. Then there’s nothing but the soft sounds of your panting breaths.

Steve’s body shakes, the weight of it on you strangely comforting. When he looks at you all the rage and fire are gone, replaced with a mournful sadness. The past few weeks had been hard on you… they had to be hell on earth for him.

Tenderly you kiss him. “Stay here.”

His brows knit, “You sure…? I… I… don’t…”

“Hush,” your fingers try to coax the lines of his forehead into relaxing. “I want you to stay.”

You’re thankful he doesn’t protest more. In fact, he doesn’t say much of anything. He does let you hold him. At times you think he may be crying but his cheeks are dry despite his labored breathing.

You’re drifting off, for now resting your head on his chest, when he asks, “Do you like your bed?”

“Huh?” You aren’t sure your groggy brain understood.

“Your bed. Do you… like it?”

You consider for a minute. “It’s ok. Kinda soft.” Honestly, you could never find the right firmness.

He laughs a little, “Apparently it’s a complaint a lot of Vets have. Bed’s being too soft.”

Leaning up on an elbow you look down at him, “Ya know… You’re right. Friend’s of mine complained about that too. Sometimes…” You shake your head a bit at yourself, “Sometimes I even sleep on the floor if I can’t fall asleep in my bed.”

Steve softly caresses the side of your face, a weak smile on his lips, “Me too.”

“Do you want to?” Hopping off the bed you pull the comforter off, not giving him time to answer. “Grab the pillows. No need to deny ourselves that small comfort.”

“We don’t… I wasn’t…”

You’re already laying the comforter on the ground. “I want to. Now come on.”

He brings the pillows over and arranges them while you grab another blanket for you both to cover up with. Quickly the two of you settle down.

After a while, Steve whispers into your hair, “Thank you.”

“You don’t have anything to thank me for, Rogers.”

“Yeah, I do.” You look up at him, his eyes glassy in the dim light. “You saw all of me… the darkest parts… from the beginning and you didn’t run away.”

“Technically…” You tease.

“Shut up,” he smiles but a tear finally works it’s way free. You brush it away.

“You’re not alone, Steve. We all have our dark sides. I’m right there with you.”

He nods, chewing on his bottom lip.

Now the tears come. Silent at first and he doesn’t let you brush them away or offer him comfort of any kind. He just hides his face, one knee pulled up. When the sobs start you don’t let him push you away.

You can’t fathom the depth of his grief. Everything and everyone he lost… now he had the one thing that gave him stability ripped from under his feet… You don’t have to truly understand it to anchor him though.

Captain America may look out for everyone else. He may be the beacon and hero the country, hell the world, needs right now… But you, you would look out for Steve Rogers. No matter what.

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @buckysstar @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @siriuslycloudy2

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #steve rogers angst #LDMWC

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pulaasul · 5 years

Text

Undo 5 - MCU x DCAU - Ending 1 - Canon Compliant

It has been years since the heroes and villains teamed up against Darkseid when people around the world randomly turned to dust, including Billy Batson’s twin sister and best friend. He’s summoned by the Wizard Shazam to undo this phenomenon.

AO3 I FFN

-----

Billy was able to recompose himself as soon as the man in red and gold armor snapped his fingers. A small shockwave caused him to shield his eyes from the dust it was carrying.

Billy felt himself being gently set down on a piece of rock by Spider-Man before he swung his way towards the aforementioned person.

Billy looked around and saw all enemies turn to dust. The big spaceship he and Danvers took down, the hideous creatures that the enemies had in spades. The same thing that happened to the people of his universe, like his twin sister and best friend.

That was when Billy saw Thanos, the Mad Titan, sit on a piece of metal with a contemplative look before he too turned to dust.

Billy scanned his surroundings once more when he saw Danvers standing mere steps away from him looking at Spider-Man's destination. Everyone was silent as they watched Spider-Man near the man.

"Mr. Stark." Billy heard the boy begin. "We won Mr. Stark." He heard the boy continue. "We won." He repeated. "You did it sir, you did it."

Billy could hear the desperation in the boy's voice. He could hear how the boy was pleading for the man not to die before him.

"I'm sorry." Billy heard Spider-Man apologize as a woman in blue and gold armor helped the boy up and give him to another man in gray armor, sobbing.

The woman kneeled before the man known as Mr. Stark and whispered some words to him. A moment later, the light on Mr. Stark's chest faded.

The woman beside Mr. Stark sobbed on his shoulders.

----

A few days have passed since the battle. A wake was held to honor the life of one Tony Stark. While Tony's wife, Pepper, prepared for the said wake, the other members of the Avengers were doing clean up duties and reunited with their families.

Some even went back to school.

"You're not from this Earth." The man with an eyepatch before Billy stated. "Where do you come from?" He asked.

Billy was currently in this world's New York, inside of what's called the Stark Tower. Pepper, offered the place for him once she learned that he was not from this world. It just so happen that the man with an eyepatch, a giant green man and Danvers was with him when he made the admission.

"A realm where none of you exist." Billy replied. "In a sense that our Sorcerer Supreme is possessing a body and I'm the Captain Marvel of my world." He explained.

"Captain Marvel?" Danver asked. "Funny, you say that." She smirked. "I am Captain Marvel."

"So that's why I didn't get your codename while I was Captain Marvel." Billy realized. "We both have the same hero names." He concluded. "Like I said, I am the Captain Marvel of MY WORLD, MY UNIVERSE."

"Are you saying that there's a world, an earth, other than this one?" Nick Fury questioned.

"Yes, there is. "The green man answered. "It's the multiverse theory." He added. "I won't bore you with the details, but if this kid is saying the truth, that's not much of a theory anymore."

"Skip the science-y lecture Dr. Banner." Nick Fury ordered. "Why did you come to this world?"

"Look Fury, I get that you want information." Dr. Banner interrupted. "Could we at least introduce ourselves before interrogating a child?" He asked. "I'm Doctor Bruce Banner, you can call me Professor Hulk." He introduced himself.

"Carol Danvers." Danvers stated. "As you know, I'm the Captain Marvel of this universe."

Nick Fury." The man with the eye patch introduced himself. "That's all." He added. "Now answer the question."

"I was sent here to undo the effects of the Infinity Stones in my world." Billy explained. "While the stones shouldn't be able to affect my world." He continued. "According to Solomon, the destruction of the Infinity Stones, after Thanos's first snap, amplified the decimation's range and affected different universes."

"Was throwing a lightning bolt at the gauntlet supposed to undo the Mad Titan's snap?" Carol asked.

"In of itself, no." Billy answered.

"That was meant to amplify my thoughts when I wielded the gauntlet." Professor Hulk realized. "There were no other events that succeeded my use of the gauntlet before you struck it with lightning."

"Now that your mission here is done." Nick Fury began. "What are you still doing here?" He narrowed his lone eye.

"You don't know how to go back, don't you kid?" Carol asked.

"Not exactly." Billy sighed. "I really only know one spell and that's an enhancement and transfiguration spell rolled into one." He admitted. "I'm in the process of learning another spell, with varying effects."

"Doctor Strange can help you." The big green guy offered.

"Doctor Strange?" Billy questioned. "Is his name Hugo Strange?"

"He's Stephen Strange." Professor Hulk corrected. "He was a neurosurgeon who became a master of the mystic arts." He explained. "Why?"

"Nothing." Billy shrugged. "I'm just marveled that the few similarities our worlds have are also very different."

"Can anyone contact this Doctor Strange character?" Nick Fury questioned. "We need to send this kid home."

"Doctor Strange is a bit busy tidying up the mess in the sanctums." Professor Hulk informed everyone. "That's all he really told anyone."

"What will you do in the meantime kid?" Carol asked.

"Maybe I'll help with the cleanup." Billy offered. "The existence of the 'vanished' has thrown the world in chaos.

"Oh no you don't." Fury rejected the offer. "You're a minor you are to go to school."

"Really?" Billy raised an eyebrow at the demand.

"Is that really wise?" The Hulk asked. "Considering he's from a different universe, a different Earth, the things he'll learn here would be moot when he returns." He added. "Tell me kid, have you heard of Vibranium?"

"Vibranium?" Billy questioned. "What's that supposed to be?" He continued.

"There you go." Hulk dismissed. "Making Billy here go to school would be moot." He smirked. "For the record, Vibranium is this Earth's strongest metal."

(linebreak)

A few days passed and it was the funeral rites of Tony Stark, the person who gave up his life in order to prevent another decimation to happen. Billy found himself donning a suit a little over his size courtesy of May Parker.

Pepper had offered Billy to buy him a suit or at least rent him one, but he refused. Although May Parker was able to convince him to don Peter's old suit back when her husband passed away.

"No!" Came the cry of an indignant child. "Why won't daddy come back?!" She whined. "I want him back!"

"H-honey, Morgan." Pepper knelt before her daughter. "We talked about this right?" She offered a sad smile. "Daddy had to go." She explained. "He's going to a special place."

"But I wanted to come with!" Morgan stomped her legs in frustration. "Everyone carried daddy while he was sleeping inside a building and he did not come back!" She sobbed. "I want to go with daddy!"

"Mrs. Stark?" Billy voiced. "Try telling her the truth." He offered.

Over the course of Tony Stark's, Ironman, wake Billy was acquainted with the different heroes and people of this world aside from this world's Captain Marvel, Nick Fury and Professor Hulk to the Wakandan King, Happy and even Peter Parker.

"Are you sure?" Pepper asked the boy before her.

"It's better than sugarcoating things." Billy reasoned. "Sugarcoating things might only lead to misunderstandings and false hopes."

"I agree." May stood beside Billy. "That's what I did for Peter back when his parents died."

"Morgan, honey." Pepper turned to her daughter. "Do you know why you can't come with Daddy?"

Morgan's tear-stained face simply shook her head, not understanding where this was going.

"Well, honey…" Pepper trailed off. "Daddy died saving everyone."

Billy watched as Morgan's eyes conveyed every bit of negative emotion through her eyes.

"But your dad's still with you, with us." Billy immediately interjected. "He may not be physically present, but he's still with us."

Pepper and Morgan looked at Billy as he spoke.

"He lives on in here." Billy pointed at Morgan's chest.

"In here?" Morgan asked as she cupped the part Billy pointed. "How?"

"So long as we remember all the good times we had with him." Billy smiled.

"Promise?" Morgan questioned.

"Promise." Billy smiled at the young girl

Morgan nodded then looked expectantly at her mother and clutched her mother's skirt. She left the room with her mother as they prepared the urn and an Ironman helmet. May followed soon after.

"You're great with kids." A boy commented. "That was a good way to make the squirt understand what's happening." He added. "As much of a genius that old man was, I don't think his squirt quite understands the situation yet."

"Yeah well, I've been in her position once." Billy shrugged. "My parents were archaeologists that died at the dig site." He continued. "Unlike her, I've got a way worst wake up call." He added. "I really don't want her to experience what I did when my parents died."

"I'm sorry to hear that." The boy offered his sympathies. "I'm Harley Keener by the way."

"Billy Batson." Billy smiled at Harley. "And it's okay." He shrugged. "I just got unlucky that the uncle who should be responsible for raising me took after his namesake in more ways than one." He added. "To put it lightly."

"Why?"

"He's named Ebenezer."

"That greedy guy from A Christmas Carol?" Harley's lips curled up as his eyes went wide.

"Yep." Billy nodded. "Don't worry tho, a lot has happened since I ran away from him." He smiled. "Found my twin sister, gained a best friend and found someone who'd raise me like his own son."

"Good for you."

(linebreak)

After the funeral, Nick Fury and Carol Danvers were with him when they approached Doctor Strange, who immediately went to work to create a portal for him to use.

"You took one big gamble coming to this universe." Doctor Strange commented. "Not only did you risk the ire of your benefactors' counterparts, you also took the risk of not being able to return."

"We took precautions." Billy shrugged. "The only problem was I'm just a beginner of the mystic arts." He admitted. "I only know enhancement and healing spells." He added. "And even then, most of the physical enhancements and healing factor are like passive abilities from any RPG."

"RPG?" Carol questioned. "Passive abilities?"

"Role Playing Game." Wong answered.

"Passive abilities are something akin to one's breathing or heartbeat." Doctor Strange continued.

Billy just stared at the two wizards in awe.

"We may be monks but we're not savages." Doctor Strange shrugged.

The red-caped Sorcerer drew a lot of circles in the air as a circular portal appeared behind Billy.

Suddenly, Stargirl's sigil, the anchoring mark, which Zatanna drew on his arm began to glow violet as ankhs in the same color began to surround the portal and at the same time changing the sparks that it spew into ankhs in the same hue.

"That's a first." Wong commented.

"He has an anchoring mark." Doctor Strange stated. "You took precautions indeed." He nodded.

"So this is goodbye?" Professor Hulk.

"I don't know." Billy shrugged. "Never say never I guess."

"See you next time then." Carol acknowledged.

"Yeah, see you." Billy waved as he walked into the portal.

(line break)

The portal disappeared as soon as Billy went in.

"I don't think the world is ready for the multiverse theory to be proven." Professor Hulk commented as he faced his companions.

"I agree." Nick Fury nodded. "Everyone here should keep mum about this."

"Not that difficult." Doctor Strange replied. "As I understood, our Captain Marvel is most of the time preoccupied in other planets and Professor Hulk is a man of science and knows the very concept of confidentiality." He added.

"And we monks of the sanctum have a thing for secrecy." Wong added.

(linebreak)

"Superman, what's your status?" J'onn questioned through the communicator.

"I've caught the people who reformed in midair." Superman replied. "Thankfully only a few of them were unlucky enough to not reach the ground when they appeared."

"What do you mean?" J'onn asked.

"A lot of these people started reforming in midair J'onn." Wonder Woman answered. "Most of them were completely reformed once they reached the ground." She added.

"Although that does not spare them from getting run over." Flash interjected. "Seriously, a lot of them reformed in the middle of the streets."

"We don't have room to complain Flash." J'onn chided. "We're lucky that Captain Marvel has succeeded."

"Hey guys?" Mary's voice cut in. "Any idea what's going on?"

"Yeah!" Freddy's voice agreed. "I'd like to know why it's suddenly raining people in Fawcett."

"I'll fill them in J'onn." Wonder Woman cut in. "Marvels, we need your help." She ordered. "Once you get everyone from Fawcett to safety, meet me at Metropolis." She added. "I'll fill you in there.

(linebreak)

Mary Marvel and CM3 were facing Wonder Woman as they each carried one person each and gently placed them on top of a secure building.

"You're saying Doctor Fate took Billy to undo the dusting phenomena." Mary clarified. "No one in the league knows where he currently is?"

"What about Batman?" Freddy asked the older heroine.

"I don't have any idea where Doctor Fate took Captain Marvel." Batman interjected through their communicators.

"Eep."

"Check on your benefactor, he should know of Marvel's whereabouts."

"The Wizard!" Mary exclaimed. "Of course!" She grinned. "Thank you so much Wonder Woman, Batman." She expressed her gratitude to the heroes before grabbing the hem of CM3's cape and sped oof.

"Wha-Mary!" Freddy exclaimed.

Soon after, a lightning bolt struck both heroes and left only smoke in their wake.

"Did you really have to scare the poor boy?" Wonder Woman asked Batman through the communicator.

"He needs to be aware of his surroundings Diana." Came Batman's reply.

Wonder Woman only shook her head and fled to someplace else.

(linebreak)

As soon as Billy stepped out of the violet ankh, he was tackled to the ground and was in the receiving end of a group hug, courtesy of his twin sister and best friend.

"Billy!" Mary exclaimed. "You're back!"

"Hey Mary." Billy greeted.

"You're back man!" Freddy greeted.

"Hello to you too Freddy."

"Where have you been?!" Mary questioned. "We asked everyone and no one can give a definite answer."

"Really?" Billy asked. "Not even Doctor Fate, the Wizard, Zatanna or even Stargirl?"

"You know the Wizard is all vague." Freddy huffed. "Most of the league are clueless and you know how Batman is."

"Batman isn't scary Freddy." Billy chuckled. "But I do see your point." He smiled.

"As for Zatanna, Doctor Fate and Stargirl." Mary started. "They're in the Tower of Fate." She answered.

"It's for her safety." The Wizard added.

"Wizard!" All three teenagers exclaimed.

"Courtney Whitmore could not handle the strain of being a magical anchor when the spell activated." The Wizard continued. "To keep her safe and monitored, Doctor Fate and Zatanna brought her to the Tower of Fate."

"Courtney Whitmore is already stable." Doctor Fate announced as he appeared through a golden ankh. "And is on her way to recovery."

"Can we visit her?" Billy asked.

Doctor Fate nodded as he made way for the Marvel family to pass through.

"Before we visit her." Billy voiced out. "How long was I away?"

"You've been away for approximately 15 hours." The Lord of Order answered. "Five hours since your departure, the dusting phenomenon was undone as people started reforming all over the world." He continued.

After expressing his gratitude, Billy and his family started walking towards the golden ankh that brought Doctor Fate to the Rock of Eternity to visit Stargirl.

"Wow." Billy marveled at the revelation." I was only gone for 15 hours when I was in that reality for about a week and five days." He shared to his family.

"Holy Moley!" Freddy exclaimed. "That's insane."

The conversation between the members of the Marvel family continued as they went through the golden ankh.

"Wizard Shazam." Doctor Fate started as soon as the trio went through the ankh. "I thank you for allowing Billy Batson to travel dimensions and reverse the otherworldly phenomenon that was forced unto our world." He expressed his gratitude. "Through him order was restored."

"I was once a Lord of Order myself Nabu." Shazam pointed out. "I too wished for it to be restored." He added. "Although gratitude should be expressed to him alone." He continued. "He was the one who made everything possible."

"All true." Doctor Fate nodded. "Until we meet again Shazam."

"You as well, Nabu."

Doctor Fate went back to the golden ankh that he used for transport and left as the ankh vanished, leaving the Wizard Shazam in its wake.

A moment later, the Wizard Shazam himself promptly vanished leaving the Rock of Eternity uninhabited.

#billy batson #carol danvers #tony stark #nick fury #freddy freeman #avengers endgame #captain marvel #shazam #mary batson #hulk #bruce banner #story

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paladin-andric · 5 years

Text

Blackheart, Chapter 31: A Final Respite

It had been quite some time. Deep in the heart of the Citadel, things had changed considerably.

A while ago, the survivors had evacuated to the countryside. Before they did so, Basilrin was sent to bring word of the situation to the surrounding lands, in hopes of summoning the forces needed to push to the Blackheart.

The portal was said to be in the very center of the city. To get there, all they needed to do was take the main road. Only problem was the demons. Their corrupted thralls swarmed the main streets en-masse. It was why they had spent their time creeping down alleyways and side streets.

Soon...soon, the time for skulking would come to an end. Soon, the army would begin their assault.

Alexander ran the blade of his sword over a whetstone, looking it over carefully. He had forgone wearing his armor, seeing as it had been a few days since Basilrin’s return.

It was quite the wonder, seeing not only his return, but the arrival of the Lady Protector herself, Gira. The Black Dragon, as she was called, arguably the most important figure in all of Geralthin. She had been there for the entirety of its history, after all.

She and Basilrin had assured them that the army was indeed on its way. Already a few of those towns and villages nearby had arrived, a few guards and citizens armed with the bare essentials now joining them in the Citadel.

It was a good start, but they had to await the mass of royal forces before they could dare start their push.

Gira was another one. Now they had three dragons. That was three beasts of legend to rain destruction on their foes. Alexander could only imagine how marvelous that kind of support would be for the army.

All in all, things were looking quite hopeful. With a force like this assembled, pushing through the city really seemed more than a mere pipe dream.

All they had to do was cause a gap, if only for a moment, in the demons’ defenses. Then Alexander could slip through, enter the Blackheart, and destroy whatever artifact was anchoring the portal to their world.

“Hey.”

The knight turned to see Wurie walking up to him. The wolfman took a seat on the ground beside the knight, flashing him a nervous smile.

“Hey captain. What’s the matter?”

Wurie looked off into the distance as Alexander continued sharpening his blade. “I just...can hardly believe it, you know? That we’re so close.”

“It won’t be long now,” the knight answered.

“It’s been quite the journey.”

Alexander smiled. “Yeah. I think we’ve all learned things from this.”

“Really? I feel like you’ve been the one teaching ME here, sir knight!”

The man shook his head and sighed. “You should know better than that, Wurie.”

The wolfman frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Captain, when I first came here...I must admit that I didn’t feel the same way about you and the others then I do now.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Well...I was raised surrounded by other humans. Not once had I even laid eyes upon another species, aside from Stilich, the doctor.”

“Stilich?”

“One of the shellbacks,” Alexander admitted, “Father hired him to take care of us...but that was the extent of my knowledge. He was one of a kind as far as I was concerned. When I joined the army, I was deployed at the northern border. There, was my first experience with the wolves...with your people, Wurie.”

The captain grimaced. “Not, uh...not a good impression,” he whispered, his voice reflecting pain.

“That’s an understatement. I thought your people were animals, barbarians, monsters...I had a similar view for many of the peoples of Geralthin. In truth, the edict didn’t rattle me as much as it probably should have...it meeting Sigvin to change my mind about a “universal evil”. Even then I thought he was the exception, but now...I see I was quite mistaken.”

“Sigvin?” Wurie’s brows furrowed. “Alexander, you said...Sigvin?”

“Yeah. We commissioned him as pathfinder, during one of our expeditions into tribal territory. We chatted at the camp. Told me all sorts of stories about him and his people. Really helped me understand the wolfmen more than I did.”

Wurie’s eyes were a near sliver now.

“What? What’s with that funny look?”

“Alexander...was...was Sigvin a bard?”

The knight was caught off guard by that one. “He...mentioned he wanted to become one...how on earth did you know that? Wurie, have you met him?”

The captain gave Alexander a serious look. “...follow me.”

He paused only to put his whetstone away and sheathe his sword before he hurried after Wurie. The implications behind this left only one possibility…

Turning past another group of tents, Wurie called out to a figure facing a firepit. “Sigvin!”

The person turned around, sitting on a small wooden stump. In a rather puffy, fanciful striped and dyed suit, was a familiar face. Sure, the clothes, quilled hat, and lute was a far cry to the rags he was wearing all those years ago, but Alexander recognized him all the same.

“Sigvin...you’ve got a friend here.”

The unarmored knight stepped forward, eyes widening. It wasn’t just a shared name. It was him. It was really him.

“Sigvin…?”

The wolfman bard frowned. “Err, I’m sorry. You might be…?”

“It’s me, remember?! It’s Alexander! From the war up north? The Pureclaws!”

The bard’s face scrunched up as he tried to recall those memories. In a moment, his eyes shot open. “A-Alexander?!”

“Yeah! It’s me!”

The wolfman jumped up excitedly and put his lute down. “Hoo boy...Alexander! How have you been, friend?!”

The knight laughed as Sigvin grabbed and shook his hand wildly. “Ah, you know! Pretty busy. How the hell did you end up all the way down here?!”

“I TOLD you I was gonna move to Geralthin! I even went to college! All was going according to plan when, uh...this all happened.”

“Right...you were kicked off with the rest of the exiled.”

“Mmhm. I must say, I saw you here before, but I never imagined the man under the armor would be you!”

Alexander shrugged. “Well, here I am regardless! God I can’t believe we’ve been so close all this time!”

“I’ve been...unable to be of much help,” Sigvin admitted with a sheepish smile. “I, uh...I’ve been hiding back here. Thinking, mostly.”

“Well, why didn’t you leave with the other citizens?”

“Because he wants to help!” Wurie said with a grin, “Isn’t that right, Sigvin?”

“Yessir!”

The knight tapped his foot, looking worried. “Ah, but...what are you planning on doing, than? Not joining the front line, I’d hope!”

“Oh goodness no. I’ve never been a warrior, you know that! I AM a bard, though. My music does more than you might expect. I hope to rally and inspire the real warriors when we attack!”

“You really have become what you’ve always wanted, huh?”

“That’s right!” Sigvin said with a grin, “My dreams are...well, they WERE coming true...but hopefully! Hopefully, after all this, I can finally get back on track!”

Wurie nodded. “You will. We’ll see to that, won’t we, Alexander!”

“Yes...we will. I must say Wurie, it’s good to see you looking up like this. You, uh...weren’t in high spirits, the last few times we spoke.”

“What can you do?” the captain asked with a shrug. “I’ve been seeing and hearing some awful things. It takes its toll, but...it’s almost over. We’re so close. If there’s a time to believe, it’s right now.”

Alexander smiled. Despite everything, even the most mournful seemed full of hope now.

“Hope is a powerful thing to have. We’ll see this through Wurie, I swear.”

The trio sat around the firepit, Alexander looking back at Sigvin. “So...got any songs planned for all of this?”

The bard smiled. “Ah, well I’ve got a few popular tunes, but generally I let the music take me where it goes.” His smile quickly turned into a frown. “I do have...one song in the works though. An...ode to your friend, Alexander. The red dragon. Hopefully, my song will travel across the land once this is over, and all will sing of his sacrifice. I figured such an individual deserves nothing less.”

Alexander’s face scrunched up. “Ah. I see...I’m sure he’d be proud.”

Sigvin nodded sadly. “Yeah. I think he would.”

…

“Hey…”

The holy man didn’t look up as he continued reflecting over the words of the scripture. “Yes?”

“I, uh...I’m going to go with them, you know!”

Andric frowned. The paladin opened his eyes and turned his gaze to Senci, visage firm.

“I would strongly advise against that.”

The kobold looked hurt by that. “Oh, come on, master! They’re counting on me to help them!”

“And I’m counting on you to make it through this in one piece.”

“I’ll make it through just fine! I can do it, you know I can! I was trained by the best, after all.”

“Senci…”

“I’ve make it this far, haven’t I?!”

Andric turned around, shifting from kneeling into a sitting position. The pair were inside a tent, taking stock of their inventory and preparing for the final battle.

“I just don’t want anything to happen. I heard about your little stint in the medical tent, you know.”

“But master-”

“What if that happens again?”

“Master Andric…”

“You nearly died, Senci! I cannot abide by this! If I were to let you leave my sight, you could-”

Something snapped inside of Senci, if only for a moment. For the first time since he could remember, he snapped at his mentor.

“I’m not a damned child anymore!”

Andric’s brows raised at the kobold’s shrill yell. He couldn’t remember the man ever being stricken silent like this, but these were exceptional circumstances.

The young warrior felt immense shame and regret almost immediately. He could feel the heat well up in his face and fear creep over him as he looked at his stunned father figure.

“I...I’m sorry…”

The paladin grimaced as he looked the other warrior over. The small lizard shifted uncomfortably, head lowered and eyes full of guilt. Like he was about to be lectured.

Andric sighed. “It’s...fine. I understand. I know this is important to you. I just...I came all this way to make sure you were alright, you know? If something happened, I…”

The man’s lips pursed. “...I don’t know what I’d do. Over a decade, Senci. For twelve years, I’ve been making sure you were okay. For twelve years, schooling and training you...”

“I...I know,” Senci said quietly, “B-but, master...you...you have to let me try! I’m a grown up now!”

Andric shot the kobold a guilty grin and scratched his beard. “Well, actually, you’re still a year away from being an adult at the moment…”

“T-that’s close enough!” Senci insisted. “Listen...I...I’m thankful for everything, really, I am. I’m so lucky I have you to train me...but eventually, you have to put that training to the test! Master...you must let me loose on our enemies! You’ve prepared me for this moment, and I must follow through now! I can’t be useless in this battle, I can’t let everyone down! I HAVE to help!”

Andric frowned and closed his eyes, reflecting on the kobold’s words. Eventually, he opened his eyes and moved forward, wrapping his arms around the young warrior.

“Senci...I know. I know I can’t stop you from doing this...and I understand how much this means to you. You can go.”

Smiling with wide eyes, Senci returned the hug, Andric patting him on the shoulder.

“I won’t let you down. I promise.”

“The only way you could do that, Senci, is if you didn’t come back...so make sure you do, alright?”

Senci grinned wide. “Yes sir!”

…

Razorwing pulled back on his bow, getting a feel for the tension. He sat on the ground beside the tent he had been staying in, his supplies laid out around him.

After this brief test of his bowstring, it seemed like all was in order. He had brought a few extra with him just in case it snapped, but there didn’t seem to be many issues. He’d been using this one for about a year, but he was very fussy about maintenance, so everything still worked as intended.

“Is that the great hero Razorwing, playing around with an unloaded bow?”

The bird turned his head towards the source. Of course, there was no mistaking that voice, despite the additional cheer it seemed to be carrying today.

“You work with crossbows. You know full well the need to test and maintain.”

The human sat down beside him. Despite the mask, his eyes made his amusement clear.

“Obviously. I’m messing with you, dope.”

The koutu shot him a cocky grin. “You sure? You know, if you don’t know about weapon upkeep, I could teach you.”

“Yeah yeah, alright, ya dumb bird.” A light punch to the shoulder made the hero chuckle.

Paul took out one of his own crossbows and looked it over. It was a fair bit smaller than the ones the armies used, seeing as this was made with the ability to hold and fire with one hand. Still, it had enough force behind it, and the bolts were large enough to still be deadly. The downside was that without the heft of the larger models, punching through armor proved...problematic.

Not that this was generally a problem for Paul. As a bounty hunter, he generally worked to end combat before it began. He’d become a good enough shot and a quiet enough sneak to hit targets in their weak spots, while they were unexpecting.

“Hard to believe it’s almost over huh?” the human mused.

“Yes...quite remarkable. We’ve come quite a far way, we have.” Razorwing put his bow down and grabbed his quiver, beginning to examine his arrows.

“It’s been rough. The close scrapes, the demons...listening to you blabber on about nonsense,” Paul said with a laugh.

“Oh? You got pretty mad when I stopped ‘blabbering’ though, didn’t you?”

The bounty hunter looked away as the koutu grinned like mad. “Well...you know how it is...the silence in this hellhole is maddening. Any voice is a relief...no matter how dumb what they’re saying is.”

The archer raised a brow. “Oh ho! I see! So what you’re saying is I’m just a voice to you, huh? Just a distraction? Just something any other person could have been?”

“T-that’s not what I meant!”

The hero put a winged arm around the human’s shoulders. Shooting him a grin, he leaned in. “Don’t worry! I’m just...what was it you said? ‘Messing with you, dope’?”

Paul groaned, which drew another laugh from Razorwing.

“Seriously, though. You and I, friend...we’ll go far, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean by that?” with the birdman’s wing still wrapped around him, he looked over questioningly.

“You remember how well we worked in the streets. How long we spent without the luxury of a team, or any support. Just the two of us, against the demons. The scouting we did for each other...we make a perfect duo, don’t you think?”

Paul looked away, sighing. “We, uh...you’re right, but...I don’t know.”

“Aw, come on, pal! No one can beat a team like us!”

“I know,” Paul admitted, “We make an excellent team. Still...I don’t know if I’ll...be doing this in the future.”

Razorwing frowned. “Huh? What’s...what’s that mean?”

“Look. You’re a famous hero. You fight monsters, and lead parades, and have songs sung of you...and I’m a shadow. No one besides you knows my identity. I stalk the shadows. I slit the throats of thieves and killers. I hide from the fame that comes with the work I do. I’ve built a reputation as an ender of lives...despite no one knowing who I am.”

The hero gave him a funny look. “You’re saying we’re incompatible?”

“Well, that’s one part of it-”

He was cut short by Razorwing squeezing him, tightening his arm’s grip around the man.

“Come on, Crux! We’ve been through enough to know that’s nonsense!”

Paul’s eyes narrowed. “Argh. You wanna let me breathe, bird?”

“Very well.” Razorwing let go of him, the pair sitting beside one another once more.

“Hah. Well, besides that...I have an identity to keep concealed. We were able to do that AND work together because, well...we’re in a fog-covered city cut off from the outside world. If we started working together once this is over...I fear your renown, and the attention you draw would...make my secret impossible to keep.”

It seemed to finally dawn on the hero, now. His gaze softened, turning into a saddened, wincing visage.

“Ah. I...I see. You...we can’t...be friends anymore.”

There was a lengthy, uncomfortable pause. Both of them had their heads down, unable to look the other in the eye.

Paul’s voice caught Razorwing off guard.

“You know...you’re the only friend I’ve ever had.”

The archer blinked, eye widening. “Paul…?”

“I, uh...I made an effort to keep my distance from everyone...just so something like this wouldn’t happen.”

The human looked over at Razorwing. The koutu’s head hung low, looking defeated.

“I...there must be something we can do…”

Paul crossed his arms, his weapons checking long forgotten. “Is there...some place you go to all the time? I don’t know if I could leave a paper trail to keep in touch, but if we happened to be around the same places…”

Razorwing smirked. “I’m all over the place. The parades and plays and, well, you know.”

“Of course.”

“Well, my estate’s always open to you. Hey, maybe you could come over sometime and meet Eignach!” “Eignach…?”

The koutu looked surprised. “Oh, I didn’t tell you? We’re...together.” There was a short pause before Razorwing continued hurriedly. “Err, that’s uh, why I wanted to tell you, by the way, that I’m spoken for. I didn’t mean to...hit on you. I-I don’t drink, so, uhh...I wasn’t thinking clearly. My apologies.”

“Don’t worry about it...lightweight.” Paul was grinning. The way the fabric around his mouth was stretching gave it away.

“Well EXCUSE me for practicing a bit of clean living!” the hero laughed and shook his head. “Well, at any rate, we’ve been together for...not too long. We were just friends at first. Poor fellow was expelled from the kingdom during the exile. He grew up in Geralthin. He may be one of my people in body, but culturally, he was a human. Our homeland was alien and frightening to him. I took him in, seeing as he lost his home and...the rest is history.”

“A bird frightened of his own flock…” Paul pulled out his dagger and inspected it for any nicks and scratches.

“I suppose! He’s adapted well, though. You know he was a fan of mine? He was absolutely starstruck when we met. Even fainted and everything!”

“Everyone has a hero to look up to, I guess. You happened to be his.”

“That’s right.”

Razorwing turned to look at the human, still running his hand along his dagger.

“Hey, Paul?”

“Yeah?”

There was a brief moment of hesitation. “Whatever happens out there...we’re a team, alright? I’ve got your back.”

Paul lowered his dagger, turning to look at the archer. His eyes ran over the other man, taking him in.

“And I’ve got yours.” He held a gloved hand out to the koutu, who took it without hesitation. The pair shook.

“Domnall...it’s been a pleasure. Let’s cast these beasts back to the deepest pits of hell.”

Razorwing radiated confidence as he sat up straight. “Hah! The armies of hell themselves will learn to fear our names!”

Paul nodded, a smirk etched in his mask. “That’s what I like to hear. Let’s you and I give em’ something to call hell...bird.”

…

“Looks like everything’s ready.”

“Just about.”

The man and woman were sitting inside a small tent, just the two of them and their supplies. The man was sitting idle, while the woman was chewing on a piece of jerky. He looked at her with a near unreadable expression.

“Hungry?” she asked in between bites. He shook his head.

“Not a fan of jerky?”

He shook his head again. “I don’t care what I eat, Leianna. I’m just not hungry right now.”

The cleric shrugged, still chewing. “Suit yourself.” Taking another bite, she looked off to the side in thought. “Man, all they’ve got left around here is cheese and jerky.”

“Not much else can last months without spoiling,” Lexius noted.

“Hey, I’m not complaining. Food’s food, and cheese and jerky are damn fine.”

Lexius sighed. The priest looked sullen and out of it. Leianna noticed this, and gave him a questioning look.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just...I wish I could have...been of more use.”

“How so?”

The man held his hands out. “I...I was poor support on the field. I’m an awful combatant. I spent half my time here bedridden. I failed to come prepared. I...I even...Leianna, if I had been with you when we split into two groups...perhaps Basilrin’s brother and Tourthun would be-”

“Hey. Monk boy.” Leianna gave him a firm glare, as if chastising him. “Listen to me, you fool. You came here of your own volition. You waltzed into a hellhole full of the darkest beings the world can offer with scrappy armor, a chipped iron blade and a tiny wooden shield. You never trained for combat. You healed a goddamned DRAGON, Lexius.”

He was about to respond, but Leianna put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. “You kicked ass out here. No one expected some guy from a church to make it this far, but here you are.”

The priest lowered his head and laughed. Leianna raised a brow. “Err...Lexius?”

“Heh...yeah, I guess you’re right. No use in feeling sorry for myself. I did what I could. That’s...all you can really do.”

“Hey, that’s the spirit!” Leianna grinned and patted him on the shoulder. “Look, I’ve got plenty of things I wish I’d done differently too, but there’s no turning back the clock. You live with what you do, and you do the best you can.”

Lexius looked up at the cleric hopefully. “Sister Leianna...could you join me in prayer?”

The woman shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” She shoved the rest of the jerky in her mouth, chewing loudly as she rushed to finish her meal.

Lexius took out his cross, from under his armor. The small, wooden symbol appeared hand-carved by him, if its quality was any indication.

Leianna wiped her mouth and took out her own, pulling it from a pouch. The handheld crosses were more good luck charms than anything, not blessed or magical in any way. It was a simple reminder of God, carried on each church member’s person to serve as a constant source of hope and faith.

Lexius bowed his head, cross clutched underneath his hand and held onto by both hands. Leianna followed the gesture.

“Through God and the intercession of Saint Martin, we stand firm against the work of the enemy,” Lexius said, his voice low and clear.

“We thought we may have died and been sent to the underworld for our transgressions, for we are surrounded by grinning faces of demons,” Leianna continued. The pair continued to alternate between each line.

“Even in death, even in the underworld, despite our true odds, we will never waver. Such is the burden of the faithful.”

Lexius’ eyes were squeezed tight as he brought the prayer to a close. “Guide us now, for we do the bidding of the Lord, our God. Allow us to fulfill our duty, no matter the cost. No matter the cost…”

“Amen.”

Despite having reached the end, Lexius did not rise as Leianna had.

“No matter the cost…”

The cleric looked at the priest with a notable degree of concern. “Lexius…?”

“No matter the cost…”

…

“This catastrophe was man-made! I’ve seen it for myself!” Charles stood among a group of humans, the first few militiamen who had answered the call. Several of them, in their light uniforms of cloth and wielding simple weapons, leered at him in disdain.

Though Alexander and the others had been through enough with the magician to trust him, but as he had always been told, the common folk saw him as little more than a monstrous chimera.

“What the hell do you know?!” one of the levies shouted, eliciting cries of agreement throughout the crowd.

“I recovered documents from the college! One of the wizards said himself that he did it!”

“Oh yeah?! Where’s your proof?”

Charles frowned. “I gave them to my friend, the professor. He left with the rest of the citizens in the evacuation.”

“How awfully convenient,” one of the men mused. A few voice called out in agreement once more.

“Whatever!” the dragonoid cried, throwing his hands up, “I don’t care if you believe me or not! The truth will come out on its own!”

“Yeah right. I bet YOU did it!”

“M-me?!” Charles reeled back, “Why would I do that?!”

“It’s in your blood!” Cheers erupted through the crowd at those words, the magician clutching at his shoulders defensively.

“T-that’s not true. I make my own path...my origins do not determine my future…”

“Yeah, right! Say, if you’re one of them...I wonder if you’ve got any secrets you’re hiding…?”

A few men stepped forward, their stances clearly hostile. Their eyes glinted with malicious intent, and their grin were anything but friendly.

“W-what’s this?!” Charles shouted, shaken. He backed up, nervous about where this was going.

“Why are you wearing that?” one of the men asked, reaching out for his wizard hat. Though he grabbed it, Charles threw his arm away, clutching onto the hat possessively.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch my things! They aren’t yours!”

The man smirked. “Are you hiding something under there, beast?”

Their approach quickened, even as the dragonoid began backpedaling.

“L-leave me alone! Stop it!”

“Show us what you’re hiding!” Several shouts rang out through the Citadel. Some from the mob of soldiers, some from citizens around the camp that saw what was happening.

Charles, focused on the approaching men, failed to notice a rock behind him. His foot slipped as he tripped over it, falling to the ground on his back. He sat up, and just as it looked like the mob was about to descend on him…

“That’s ENOUGH!”

Blinking, the fallen dragonoid looked over to the source of the bellowing voice. Sure enough, the knight was stomping over, though not in his armor. Still, he had his sword on his hip, and looked suitably authoritative enough anyway. Behind him, a few others followed, most notably Wurie.

“Causing trouble, are we?”

The knight’s demeanor seemed to shake the mob of levies out of it, many quickly backing away from Charles.

“W-we were just-”

“Harassing the people you were sent to help? Yeah, I noticed. What’s next? Gonna mug a few of the wolves? Attack the birds?”

“No,” a single voice answered meekly. The knight scowled at the group.

“Which one of you imbeciles is in command here?” He demanded. A lone soldier answered.

“Captain Howard, sir. He’s outside.”

Alexander stepped forward and grabbed the man by the neck, pulling him close. The others gasped, but didn’t interfere.

“Tell your captain to get his men under control,” he growled, voice dripping with venomous hostility, “NOW.”

“Y-yessir,” he squeaked, stumbling backwards as Alexander released him.

“Crawl on out of here, all of you. You’re not welcome.”

As the group turned to leave back through the sewers, the knight called out one last time.

“If I catch you attacking any more citizens, you’ll be hanging from his majesty’s gallows for treason!”

As the group fled, Alexander turned to Charles, still sitting on the ground. He quickly extended a hand. “You all right?”

“I-I think so.” the magician grabbed the man’s hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet with a grunt.

“Ah...thank you, Alexander.”

“Don’t worry about it. The nerve…!”

Charles smiled as he dusted himself off. “I’m thankful to have friends in such affluent stations…”

The knight grimaced. “I don’t like throwing my weight around, but in these situations I hardly have a choice.”

“What in the world was that?” Wurie asked, “They were like...common rabble! Like the thugs whose fights I had to break up back in the day!”

“That’s what happens with the army,” Alexander noted. He frowned as he looked over to the exit, hands on his hips.

“These aren’t elite soldiers of the king. These aren’t contractors or professionals. These are levies, militia and common folk. They don’t have the discipline a lifer has. Force them to stay on duty without an enemy to fight, and eventually they’ll starting picking their own fights.”

Wurie tilted his head. “Sounds like you’ve dealt with this before.”

“Comes with the territory. Command enough armies and you know the best and worst of it inside and out.”

“Still...unacceptable,” muttered Wurie. He looked deeply wounded by the proceedings.

“Captain? You okay?”

The wolfman shook his head. “It’s...nothing. Just remembering the exile.”

“Similar treatment?”

“Very.”

Alexander crossed his arms. “Things are going to change around here. I don’t know how, but they will.”

Wurie smiled despite himself. “I...appreciate the optimism. I would say I don’t believe it but...I already said that about you saving our people. I fear I’d be eating my words yet again if I said such a thing!”

The knight shrugged, a small smile at the corner of his lips. “Guess we’ll just have to see, huh? So how about…”

A shadow taking up the entire middle of the camp cause him to trail off. While the twilight wasn’t much, it was noticeable now that it was gone.

He barely had a moment to look up before a green dragon dropped down the hole and into the Citadel. Basilrin.

“They are here! The king’s men are here!”

There was a lengthy silence as the crowd looked at one another. A few citizens walked over at the dragon’s call, including the others that had been journeying together with Alexander all this time.

Looking back, the knight gave them a nod. At last, the end was here. Alexander closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“It’s time.”

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megcapulet · 6 years

Text

Good wine and chat

Who: Megan Montague and Drew Capulet

When: 9th April 2018

Where: Drew’s house

Notes/ warnings: None - Drew and Megan catch up over several bottles of wine. Multiple mentions of Oz and Cade.

@drewcapulet

Megan grinned as the door opened and she gave a small curtsy. "See, here I am, completely in one piece and feeling much better," she laughed as she moved forward to hug her friend. "I can't stay too long though, Oz is still busy but he said he'd be done about 9."

Drew smiled at the sight of his friend on the other side of the door. "Feeling well enough to curtsy!" he said as they hugged. "Of course, of course, I wouldn't want to keep you from your Dom for too long." He pulled back and stepped inside, holding the door open for her. "Come on in! Cade had dinner with a friend this evening, so it's just us. Shall I bring a bottle into the living room for us?"

Megan wandered through to the living room, nodding at the news that Cade was out. "I'm glad I'm here to distract you for the evening then because I would hate you to spend all evening moping!" Giggling at her own joke she nodded eagerly, "I wouldn't say no if you feel like opening some wine but only if you are joining me." She took a seat on the couch and smiled over as he came in, "So how are you finding sharing your space?"

Drew chuckled. "I wouldn't have been moping," he argued, though really, she was more right than he was willing to admit to either of them. He followed her into the living room and continued through to the kitchen, where he pulled out one of his favorite whites that he'd put in to chill earlier that day. He grabbed two glasses and brought them all out, setting them on the coffee table as he joined her on the couch. "It's certainly challenging in some respects, but it's mostly wonderful having him so close. Is that how you felt, moving in with Lord Montague?" he asked as he poured them each an overly full glass.

Megan just shook her head with amusement at his protest, she knew only too well how it felt when you got so used to having someone else around and they weren't there, even for a short time. She took her glass with a thanks and considered his question. "It was different because I was the one moving in with him and to be honest I never really actively moved in. He told me to stay with him after Adriana's murder and I never left. I do understand what you mean though, we all get set in our ways and it can feel a bit like walking on egg shells trying to work out how far you can push things." Megan lifted her glass with a grin, "To relationships, their challenges and ultimate wonderfulness!"

Drew hummed as he settled back on the couch, one leg bent up on it so that he could face her more easily. "That's fair," he said. "I'm sure it's a much different dynamic to be the submissive moving in with your Dominant rather than the Dominant moving in with his submissive. Luckily, this place is more than large enough for both of us to get some alone time if needed--though I'm sure your new place is as well. I'm quite enjoying making these new routines together, as a matter of fact." He lifted his glass and tapped it lightly into hers. "And to finding that special someone, no matter how long it took."

Megan tapped her glass to his before taking a long drink and closing her eyes as the cool liquid trickled down her throat. "You are very right....and just think a year ago if someone had told us we would both be with Montague Dominants we would have told them they were crazy. Isn't it funny how things change?"

Drew sipped at his wine and sighed as he felt himself really start to relax. He leaned back into the corner of the sofa and let his hand drop into his lap, still holding his wine glass for easy access. "God, and not just Montague Dominants. You with Lord Osborne Montague himself! I think we'd have laughed them out of the building. Honestly, the fact that I am nearing the point of a claim is shocking enough for me in itself. The who of it is just icing on the cake."

Megan laughed loudly in agreement. "Tell me about it. The idea of actually finding anyone a year ago seemed shocking. I mean there have been one or two Dominants that I've wondered about but nobody ever seemed willing to actually tie themselves to me and then Oz happened." She took another long drink and giggled, "You're madly in love and I'm now Lady Montague, it's as if the world has gone crazy!"

Drew took a big swig of his wine, but attempted to do it subtly, so that it wasn't obvious how much he was drinking at once. Lady Montague, indeed. "And you really are okay with your Dominant?" he asked. "Or, rather, more than okay--happy, even? You know how much I worry about you, my dear. He's hardly the partner I would have chosen for you, but if you're happy, then I have no reason to complain."

Megan shook her head with a laugh, "I know you are still not keen on him but I promise you I am deliriously happy. Things have been rocky but you know, maybe we got a lot of the negative stuff out near the start rather than space it across the first few years. I can't tell you we have had three months of total bliss because you know it's not true but I love him and I can't bear the thought of my life without him now. " She took another drink and reached forward to grab the bottle and top up both their glasses. "I wouldn't have picked him from a line up for me either but maybe that's what makes it so good. He challenges me, he knows what I like and he just gives it to me. I've realised I can't stand idle talk or someone checking with me every two seconds. Oz doesn't do that. It's like he trusts me enough to safeword if I need to and beyond that he just takes control. He doesn't say anything a lot of the time, he just moves me or touches me or marks me without warning but I promise I have never felt either safer or more alive." Megan looked up with a giggle, "Sorry that was probably more than you were looking for!"

Drew continued drinking while Megan spoke. It was more detail than he would have liked when it came to Osborne Montague, but he and Meg had shared more than their fair share of details with one another over the years. He held his glass out for her to fill before bringing it back near his lap again. "You truly do sound happy with him, and that is all that matters. If you're happy, I'm happy, and I'm of course also happy to hear whatever details you feel like sharing--particularly the juiciest ones. Perhaps I've been too quick in my judgment of your Dominant's deficiencies."

Megan laughed loudly at his comment, considering that perhaps the alcohol was going straight to her head but she didn't care. She hadn't been able to talk like this with Drew for so long and she was going to make the most of it. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," she teased with raised brows. "I remember Cade telling me he wasn't into such a physical relationship as Oz clearly is but you can't tell me you two aren't getting naughty. Those cheeks are far too rosy to just be kneeling by his feet!"

Drew took another sip from his drink, enjoying the sound of his friend's laughter immensely. It had been far too long since they'd relaxed together like this. "Which cheeks are you referring to?" he asked, keeping his facial expression neutral as long as he could before he couldn't hold back his laughter any longer. "There is definitely sex involved--quite good sex, mind you--but god, the strength in that man's arms! I swear, I've gone entire weeks without sitting down once in the office."

Megan 's eyes widened and she nearly choked on her wine at the question of which cheeks. "Drew Capulet!" She exclaimed before dissolving into giggles again. "Who needs to sit down?" she asked with a laugh. "My ass is never free from bruises these days and I love it. It rather resembles a rainbow most of the time." Tipping her head to the side she pouted, "Should I worry that the sex is only quite good? Or do I assume you are just being modest?"

Drew couldn't help but laugh at the way Megan was laughing at his commentary. "What?" he asked, and he whistled a bit to emphasize his complete innocence. "I trust he's taking care of those bruises for you, though? You know I'm always happy to take a look if there's anything that concerns you." He paused, made a face, and cleared his throat. "Though I do apologize. I did just say a minute ago that I would trust your judgment regarding your claim. As for the sex... I am attempting to protect Master Cade's privacy."

Megan rolled her eyes and nodded at him as he realised what he was saying. "I can assure you my ass is well taken care of...and I will assume the same for yours. I could ask Oz to give Cade some tips if you feel it's necessary." She was laughing at the attempt to protect privacy, "We are three quarters of the way through a bottle of wine and have known each other far too long for modesty and privacy. But we are also both doctors so very skilled in confidentiality outside of this room."

Drew lifted a hand to his chest in a mock gesture of having taken offense to her offer. "Believe me when I say that Master Cade is quite capable of taking care of my ass," he said with a chuckle, "in every sense." He grinned cheekily at her before sipping at his wine once more. "Let's just say I have absolutely no complaints about my sex life with Cade--except, perhaps, for the fact that it took us so damned long to finally get to that point in our relationship."

Megan raised her glass in mock cheers at his revelation, "I'm delighted to hear that." She continued to drink as he spoke and her smile fell a little before she began to giggle. "We really are at either end of the spectrum aren't we?" she chuckled. "I didn't exactly wait with Oz and you took forever to get busy. I hope you were more careful than I was." Her first night with Oz was no secret to Drew, nor the fact they hadn't used precautions, since it was Drew who had sorted her out after. "So does this mean good things are indeed worth waiting for?" she teased.

Drew returned her toast, chuckling at her commentary. "We're quite careful, believe me," he said before draining the rest of his glass. He grabbed the bottle and refilled himself before holding it out to top off Meg's glass as well. "You know I'm not one to sleep around quite so much, though I did tell you about the few times it happened back before Christmas. With Cade, though... if it had been up to me, our sexual relations would have begun back when we met in August. He was, however, worth the wait. Very, very much so."

Megan held out her glass for Drew to top up before looking indignantly at his comment. "Hey I didn't sleep around.....well not that much. And in my defence most times I knew there was a good chance of a scene or sex before I left my house, Oz took me by surprise. In fact now that I think about it each time I saw him and expected something he left me wanting and then when I either hadn't expected to see him or it was supposed to be something more relaxed it turned into more. God that man is really confusing!" She laughed raucously at her own revelation before pulling herself together again, "I'm so happy for you Drew, honestly I am. You deserve good things, all the good things. You are such a lovely person." Drew shook his head quickly when he heard her protest, wanting to correct her as soon as he could. "Oh, no, no, I never said you slept around! Not that there would be even the slightest thing wrong with it if you did. I'm just saying that I'm not typically that kind of person, but that I would have been quite content starting a sexual relationship with Master Cade far before we did." He laughed as well, both at himself and at the way Megan was so amused by what she seemed to have worked out while speaking to him. "You are an incredibly lovely person yourself," he said. "I'm glad Lord Montague treats you right. And that he... surprises you. That's a much better word than confuses. You deserve nothing but the best."

Megan found herself giggling again as Drew turned the comments back on her. "He does treat me right - for me. And yes, surprises is probably better and he does surprise me frequently. You should have seen the gorgeous earrings he got me for Rosaline and Tru's ceremony. For no reason other than he's really a cuddly teddy bear in disguise." Megan leaned forward to fill up her glass only to discover the bottle was empty, "Oh no....there's more wine right?"

Drew gave Megan a capital-L Look. "Of course there's more wine," he said as he got to his feet, swaying just slightly before regaining his balance. "Just give me a moment." He went to his wine collection and grabbed a bottle at random before bringing it back. The corkscrew was still on the table and he quickly opened the bottle and poured them each a glass, starting with Megan. "I can't believe I didn't notice your new earrings! Surely you have a photo on your phone?"

Megan rolled her eyes, not entirely sure if he seriously wanted to see a picture of her earrings or not. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through till she found one, "Here you go. They looked amazing because I had my hair up but they would have been just as stunning if it had been down." Megan took a long drink of her wine, savouring the taste for just a moment. "I take it Cade approves of your extensive wine collection. Imagine if you had a Dominant who didn't like you to drink - wouldn't that be awful!"

Drew truly did want to see the earrings--fashion was something he enjoyed on occasion, and these earrings clearly made her happy. He leaned over so that he could see the photo she was showing him. "I think that says more about how stunning you are than about the earrings, but they are quite lovely," he said with a smile as he leaned back into the corner of the couch again. "It would have been a deal-breaker if Master Cade wanted me to get rid of the wine collection. My wine and I are a package deal!"

Megan chuckled, "Just as it should be....although I have to say Oz has a much better selection of wine than I have ever had. Between you and him though I will continue to have a wonderful time!" They continued to talk and drink descending into greater hilarity as the evening went on until the door opened and Cade arrived home to two rather giggly and very drunk submissives.

#ftf:drew #drew #chatzy #chatzy:drew #good wine and chat #chatzy:good wine and chat

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phaniecastello-blog · 6 years

Photo

((Hey! Here’s the fic of the fun rp I had with Grace/ @maximus-schreave thank you so much, girl. Hope you all like it. I wasn’t sure about the edit, but there it is. The date challenge is next :) ))

If it doesn’t open... someone is behind that door

They say that time runs fast when you are doing something you enjoy, but that morning it wasn’t working. I was trying to copy the beautiful design of a vase full of flowers I had in front of me, it looked expensive, maybe King Spencer bought it in one of his trips, or maybe it was a present from some other Royal.

I wasn’t really interested in any of that, but I was working hard to keep my mind away from Loretta’s messages. Since I decided to stop answering her calls she had been settled on sending nonstop messages that she knew wouldn’t get a reply. But there was something else that got me intrigued, the last message my subtle mother sent read:

“DON’T DARE TO RUIN THE OPPORTUNITY YOU HAVE TONIGHT.”

That notification got me on edge all morning, even during breakfast I couldn’t stop thinking about anything else. How does Loretta found out I was going to have my first day with Nate that night? Has she hired someone to keep an eye on me? I looked around the Women’s Room as if some kind of stalker was going to appear right behind me, but I could only see some of the ladies reading or chatting. One of the Ladies! … I shook the idea out of my head, I only knew about one of them that could have had some communication with my mother, and she wouldn’t even care to do it, anyway.

The point of not answering her calls was not letting her ruin the selection for me with her ideas, demands, and pressure, but it was being hard for me to ignore all that.

After almost an hour of useless drawing session and tired of waiting for Maya to casually arrive, I picked my notebook and pencils and head back to my room. Unfortunately, when I opened the door, I felt it got stuck with something… or that’s what I thought until I heard someone complaining.

“Oh man”

I frowned and let the door closed behind me, revealing Prince Maximus grabbing his nose, pain showing on his face.

“Oh Dio! I’m sorry! .are you okay... your highness?” I hesitate of touching his nose to check if it was any blood, but in the end, I didn’t. Of course, he wasn’t okay, but when you are worried, is normal to make stupid questions.

He regained his position footing and looks at me “I’ve been hit by an angel”

“...but I bet it still hurts. I’m so sorry.”

“It's not my nose that hurts. It's something else” He said between moans.

“Maybe I should walk you to the doctor …” Even when it was an accident I felt terribly worried and I wanted to be sure he wasn’t broken.

“The love doctor?” He managed a couple of winks, which made me believe maybe he wasn’t as injured as he seemed. I had heard stories about the flirt personality of youngest Prince, from the ladies that had met him, but I didn’t expect him to maintain it after such a strong hit.

I scoffed at his line, I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me. “Hey, I’m really worried here, I’ve never hit a prince in the nose before”

“My eyes have never been hit with... with s-such beaut-” He hit the floor before he could finish the sentence, fainting.

My heart filled with concern, but almost instantly I remembered I had the reputation of being a prankster and I won’t be the first to fall in one of them.

I frowned staring at him “Are you sure I didn’t hit your head ...?” I extend one hand to help him to get up “My name is Stephanie, by the way…”

He mumbles words that I didn’t understand, I wasn’t even sure if they made any sense.

Should I be worried…? Beside my suspicious thoughts, I couldn’t just leave him laying on the floor like that. What if he’s not faking? I tried again. “Hmm... so bad you are unconscious because I was hoping you to the kitchen for some snacks…” I pretend to walk away taking two steps, but I looked at him with the corner of my eye.

He just moved to mumble, again, but this time in a louder tone and I panicked

“You are not responding…” I mumbled nervously.

I knew it, I broke King’s Spencer younger son! I looked up to the heavens Is this a punishment for ignoring my mom? … I deserve an award for that, in my opinion… but, I’m sorry!!!

Maybe Loretta was right to think I was going to ruin everything.

I kneeled by his side and looked around the place hoping to see some guard who could help us, there. That place was always filled with men in uniform all the time, how come they were not around when I really need them?!

That’s just my luck.

It was carrying him by myself or CPR, so...

“I- I will try to carry you to the hospital wing okay? Can you lean on me?” I asked, hoping to get real words this time or some sign that he was getting better by some miracle, but he just looked at me and made some sounds followed by a gesture that intended to be a smirk, but turned out to look like a drunk duck.

After trying a few ways to carry him correctly I finally find the most practical way, placing his arm around my neck and lifting him with all my strength. Suddenly the gym sessions didn’t sound so bad.

“I thought you were lighter, but it’s okay... Let’s try to walk slowly” Suddenly I felt optimistic. The hospital wing wasn’t so far away and I wasn’t doing a bad job bearing the Prince’s weight. Suddenly he started mumbling and playing with my hair

“Look, I’m really sorry I hit you, but, you know for future references is better not to put your face so close to the doors... aaand you might stop with the hair because I don’t want to accidentally drop you”

“I've already fallen for you.” He said slurring his words as he spoke

“I wish it hadn’t been so literal... “I muttered with a complaint tone “but hey! I understood what you said, that’s a good sign. Are you feeling a little better?” I asked with heavy breathing.The little moment of optimism made me lose my grip for a second, but fortunately, I hold him tight again before he falls.

Damn it!

“Wait, we are almost there” Honestly, at that point I said that more to cheering myself than to let him know he would be safe soon

Fortunately, we arrived to the hospital wing and I could let him rest on the first couch I spotted. I let a deep breath out and looked around the place. The few nurses hadn’t even noticed us. “So… I need a doctor here!” I said out loud… almost shouting.

One of the nurses rushed over “What happened?” She asked grabbing him, without any effort and taking him to a bed.

Now that’s a strong woman. I stared at her agile movements, feeling kind of embarrassed and at the same time relieved of having someone helping me, while I was massaging the back of my neck and try to recover my posture.

I follow her and Prince Maximus laying on the wheel bed, into a room. I tried to explain everything to her as we walk, making clear that it was just an accident. “Is he going to be okay?” I asked when I finished the explanation.

The nurse shines the young Prince’s eyes with an intense flashlight and did a general checkup, like the blood pressure and stuff … "It seems to be a minor concussion". I already knew that but, okay.

I looked at my cellphone, it was getting kind of late, but it wouldn’t be polite to leave him there unconscious, I just have to make sure I wasn’t going to get in the way of any procedure. “Can I stay here or I come back later?” One of my foot was unconsciously preparing to go out

"You might as well stay."

I waited for the nurse to do her job, then she left and I remained there, sitting at the end of the room, scrolling through my phone. Almost all the entertainment websites were centering their articles in The Selection, some speculations, some lies, some trivial facts, and a few really interesting ones.

“Wha... What's going on?”

I recognized the voice from before, but this time it sounded less… drunk. I stand up and find my place at the foot of Maximus’ bed. “You are awake! Hi”

“Am I in heaven?” Normally I would be kind of annoyed by his words, I mean, couldn’t he have a normal conversation? But I was so happy to see him awake that, I even found them funny.

“I really hope heaven doesn't feel like this” I said, remembering all the anguish and effort of the last pair of hours. “How are you feeling? Still dizzy?”

He reached up to touch my hair. “You're so beautiful, my head is spinning” Well, at least I had got a real answer this time.

“Yes, yes I know I am, thanks anyway” I said letting a small laugh out, at my own statement while I filled a glass with the water pitcher on the table beside his bed. “You scared me to death! You have to promise me you won’t stand so close to the doors from now on... or at least not to the ones of the rooms I’m in!” I handle the glass to him

He took it “I just couldn't stand being away from you, uh... What's your name?”

I tried hard to hold a laugh and pretend to be offended “I’m disappointed on you, even professional flirters have to do some research work...My name is Stephanie”

“Stephanie. What a beautiful name... The name of an angel” He said with a mastered dreaming sigh.

I scoffed “You know, the good thing is there are witnesses that can tell you were like this before I hit you, so, I’m safe.”

“I don't need a witness to know my love for you is true”

“I bet it is, but unfortunately I have a date with someone else tonight”

“Playing hard to get, huh?”

An inevitable loud laughed came out. “I like you, you are funny and you fall with style, but now that you are so much better” I checked the hour on my cell phone. “I’m afraid I have to go…” I hesitated for a second “You will be all right here, right?”

“My heart shall ache, but I think I should be fine.”

“Okay” I pat her shoulder. He wasn’t like the other ladies have told me, he was so much worse, but after all, he was a teen, and surprisingly, instead of annoying I found him hilarious.

I remembered Nate’s words days ago. “You’ll be lucky if you don’t run into him” Of course he was joking... or maybe he wasn’t, but it must be fun to have a little brother. I wish I had one. I would love to.

“I’m sorry, again, for hitting you. See you later” Once my two feet were outside the hospital wing, I rushed my step towards my room. My sketchbook and my pencils were still on the floor right behind the Women’s Room door. I picked them up and run upstairs, feeling some kind of excitement inside... It was time to get ready for my first date with Prince Nate.

#Maximus #side fic 5 or 6?

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sabraeal · 7 years

Text

Wanting Is More Pleasurable Than Having (And Other Things Vulcans Don’t Know a Damned Thing About): Part 2

There’s no rhyme or reason to why it starts up again. There really never is.

He’s on an away mission with the Lieutenant Commander and Lowen, barely disengaged from the bay, when suddenly he’s on the floor of the shuttlepod, LT crouched over him, his hands holding his shoulders back to the grating. He’s only vaguely aware of what’s happening around him; all he can focus on is Wisteria yelling into the comms, telling the bridge that they’re docking back up and Doc Gazalt better be there to meet them.

“Breathe,” Lowen tells him, but even that seems hard, seems impossible.

“What happened?” he asks groggily, but he knows, he knows. There’s no other reason for his chest to feel so tight, for his throat to feel so raw.

“Looks like you had a bit of a bad spell there, Obi.” Lowen gives him one of his kind smiles, helping him upright so he can put his head between his knees. “Has us all worried here for a minute.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, ducking his head. He hopes the LT can’t see the humiliation stamped on his face. Probably visible in the next fucking system with his luck, but he can hope.

“Hey, it’s okay.” The LT’s voice is low, soothing, despite the downright tooth-shaking way he claps him on the back. “You can’t control stuff like this. Not all the time.”

Of course you fucking can; he doesn’t spend hours down in medbay every month trying to recalibrate his dosage just for shits and giggles. He appreciate the fiction, though. He’ll take what face he can save; right now he doesn’t even have a paperclip and shoestring of pride left.

When they get back, the captain is waiting, along with the doctor and -- oh god -- Seiran. This is going to be pleasant.

“It’s nothing.”

Doc Gazalt doesn’t say anything, too busy filling in the updates to his medical record. Not like she really needs to either; one glance up at her face tells him all he needs to know about how stupid she thinks he is.

“Your episodes have been increasing in frequency in the last month,” she says finally. “And you’ve been living off three hours of sleep a night for nearly a week. I don’t think it’s nothing.”

Obi sighs, dragging his uniform back over his chest. “I just need more medication. It’ll fix itself like it always does.”

Garrack balances her PADD on the jut of her hip, considering him. “I think we need to think about alternative treatment.”

“What, you got some pot growing down in hydropnics?” he asks. “Think I should ask the replicator if it knows how to make hash brownies?”

The Chief Medical Officer sends him one of her patented unimpressed glares, but he knows better. She ducks her head down at some files, and he catches it, the smile flirting with the corners of her mouth. “I was thinking something more along the lines of neuropressure.”

“Neuropressure?” He’s heard stuff about it, of course -- there wasn’t much you didn’t hear around the barracks -- but here? “Vulcan neuropressure? You got someone around here who can to that?”

He doesn’t like the coy look on her face. He hasn’t been on the Wistal long, but he’s already been warned off the good doctor’s attempts at meddling.

“Why, of course,” she purrs, so satisfied she should have feathers sticking out. “Ensign Shirayuki is considered a master practitioner back on Vulcan.”

He nearly tumbles off the bed. “Ah, no. No way. Not happening.”

Garrack’s head swivels toward hm, eyebrows raised. “Oh? And why is that?”

“It’s just a bad idea,” he grumbles, rubbing at his shoulder. “Me and her, I mean. Oil and water, you know?”

They’re at her hairline now. “You don’t like Shirayuki?”

Her smile is blinding in his memory, framed by those soft lips, and even now his heart stutters thinking about being near her again, about having her tilt her head to give him that curious look and --

-- And yeah, he’s not the limiting factor here. “No, it’s not -- I made a bad impression.”

“You think Shirayuki doesn’t like you?” she stares. “What on earth did you do?”

“It’s not that funny,” Obi complains, minutes later, when Garrack stops laughing.

“Oh no,” she sniffs, wiping tears away from her eyes. “It is.”

That’s supposed to be the end of it.

Of course it isn’t. Not even slightly.

Three days later he catches himself on his locker, nearly about to pass out on his feet.

“Damn,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Maybe I should check out hydroponics.” He’s heard one of the ensigns down in medbay has his own corner full of plants no one’s allowed to catalog. There’s got to be something exciting in there.

“Ensign.”

He nearly jumps out of his skin, dropping his civvies on the floor. “Christ.”

Bent-angle brows shift to question. “I must apologize, Ensign,” Shirayuki says, so unfailingly polite. “I hadn’t meant to startle you.”

“It’s....fine.” God, he needs sleep. “I just -- I’m easy to startle today. Is there something I can do for you? Phaser not working properly?”

“No, the weapon you have modified for me is performing quite admirably, in the way that I have not killed anyone with it.”

He stares, half bent to pick up his shirt. “Have you tried?”

Her eyes are wide and jubilant when she tells him, “No!”

How on earth is this girl a Vulcan.

“Something else then?” His mind searches for anything she might possibly need from him, other than to be accidentally sexually harassed. “Maybe your, uh, replicator needs fixing?”

God, that sounded sexual. And like he was inviting himself into her quarters. He really just needs to not talk for a little while. He’s only going to get himself in trouble, standing round with no shirt and asking a woman if he can fix something for her. The ensign certainly isn’t going to take anything wrong, but all he needs is Seiran walking by at the wrong time --

“Ah, no.” Her head twitches just slightly, the Vulcan equivalent of a head shake. “I meant to say there is something I can do for you.”

This is like the start of a really bad holodeck sim. The kind people really frown on you for using on a federation starship.

“You need neuropressure,” she tells him. “I’m amendable to providing it. Come to my quarters after dinner.”

This is not helping. “That’s really not necessary.”

“That is not what Garrack told me.”

Obi sets his jaw. He gets that this could help, he does, but --

He doesn’t need anyone meddling in his life. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you but --”

She’s damn quick, he’ll give her that. He’s barely given his back to her when her hand flashes out, hitting him right in the spine and --

Oh, damn. That feels great. His whole body tingles, warmth flooding his veins.

“Fuck,” he says, pressed flat against the metal.

“Oh, I --!” Whatever she’s about to say, she things better of, clearing her throat. “I mean...my quarters. After dinner. If you please, Ensign.”

He doesn’t mean to go. He’s already made an ass of himself in front of her, practically asking her to fuck him in front of her superiors. Obi’s not eager to find out what other cultural misunderstandings he can perpetuate if he lets himself into her private quarters. Last thing he needs is to cause an intergalactic incident with his pants down.

Though, if history serves, he wouldn’t be the first.

He doesn’t mean to go, but after that stunt in the locker room, he lays down on his bed and loses an hour. When he gets up, he’s so disoriented that he worries this is yet another sign that he’s losing it, until he realizes -- that was an hour of dreamless sleep.

Vulcan High Command can kiss his ass; he’ll risk anything for another hour of that.

Even still, the second her door chimes, he gets the urge to bolt. She doesn’t like him -- how could she? -- and the fact that he’s taking her up on this is just taking advantage of her kindness. She can’t possibly --

Her door slides open with a breathy shoosh, and all he can see is that damn smile.

“Welcome!” It’s hard to tell on her face, even with the smile, but she looks -- pleased. It’s not a state he’s ever associated with Vulcans. “You came. Please, come inside.”

“Uh.” He idles in the hallways, uncertain, before surging over the threshold. There, barrier broken. “Right. Thanks for having me, I guess.”

“It is my pleasure,” she assures him warmly. “Now if you’d please remove your pants.”

He gapes. “Excuse me?”

“Did I put that rudely?” Her eyebrows tilt worriedly. “I need you to...disrobe? Strip. To be as naked as the day you were born.”

She grins at that last one. “I do so enjoy English. So many ways to say a single thing! And similes! So expressive.”

He grimaces, bringing up a hand to clutch at his shoulder. “Ah, no one told me --”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she gasps, the very picture of regret. “I’ve only seen you in uniform, I merely assumed -- is there something misshapen? I assure you I have seen everything --”

He squawks. “There’s nothing wrong with my body!”

Her forehead wrinkles. “Then why --?”

“Fine!” he grumbles, fisting a hand in the back of his shirt. “I’ll get undressed!”

He heaves it off in one swift motion, spiking it to the floor. Too late he realizes that it wasn’t some challenge.

“Oh,” she murmurs faintly, gaze stuck firmly to his chest. The scar. He has a fucking scar there. “I think -- that should be enough. For tonight.”

“You sure?” he asks, a little tight. He needs to learn how to think things through before he does them. Maybe Starfleet has a remedial course. “You were all bullish on my pants earlier.”

“Your torso and upper limbs should be enough.” She’s looking a little greener than normal. He would too, if he had to look at that twisted hunk of flesh with no warning.

She gestures to a mat on the floor. “If you would please kneel?”

All the air goes out of him.

Get on your knees.

“Ah,” he coughs. “Sure,”

His knees feel stiff, locked, but -- but she’s not going to do anything he won’t like. Maybe she doesn’t like him, but she’s not that kind. She wants to help, not humiliate.

Still, every inch feels like a mile on his way to the floor. His breath is coming harsh when he finally settles onto the balls of his feet, braced for -- something.

He doesn’t see but rather feels her settle behind him. Cold fingertips trace down his spine, taping at one, two, three vertebrae before traveling further down. She pushes firmly, and he opens himself to it, to the flood of --

Nothing.

“Hm,” she grunts, sitting up on her knees. She tries harder, enough to make him jerk forward and catch himself on the mat. “Ah, I’m --” She huffs out an annoyed breath, hunching closer, prodding at a few different points before sitting back on her heels.

“I am sorry, Ensign.” She’s the closest to consternation he’s ever herd a Vulcan come. “But you are very...broad. And I am small. And you are very tense besides. I don’t know quite how to...hm.”

He want to offer calling the whole thing off, but the words that come out are, “Would you like me to lay down?”

“Yes!” He looks back to see her wide smile. “That would be preferable.”

He gives her one last lingering look before falling forward onto his hands. This is a terrible idea, he can already tell.

He gets himself on the ground anyway. Like he’s a person that makes good decisions anyway.

The ensign approaches him critically, circling around him as if he’s a particularly puzzling board of Kal-toh. She starts to sit down once, only to make a frustrated noise and stand. Stepping to his other side, she crouches again, only to repeat the process. Eventually, she lets out a loud breath, and then suddenly there’s weight spanning his hips, a flush of heat, and there she is, delicately perched on the cushion of his ass.

Oh there is just...not going to be a way to explain this to Chief. He can kiss that looming promotion to junior grade goodbye.

“Much better,” she tells him. “Are you comfortable?”

“As I’m going to be,” he mutters into his arms. Scuttlebutt says she’s got something going on with Wisteria, and he takes all gossip with a grain of salt but --

“Is there a problem?”

“No.” But if she’s going to be touching him all evening, there is. “Just...kind of weird, knowing you know all my secrets.”

“Do I?”

“You’ve got my medical records.” He doesn’t mean to sound cross but -- there’s no reason for her to play dumb. He’s been around enough Ferengi to know when he’s being sold fake rations. “I heard Doc Gazalt’s are exhaustive. So you, you know...have seen it all.”

“Ah.” She shifts on her knees, like she’s uncomfortable. “No, it is -- this is a physical therapy. Not psychotherapy. I didn’t --” She hesitates. “I felt it would be a violation to read the whole thing. I only checked for outstanding conditions. If you were considered...touch averse. Things that might make this difficult.”

“Oh.”

“I know you do not like your face touched.” He knows better, but she sounds nervous. “So I will not do that until you tell me you wish to. And I know I should not -- restrict your breathing. I did not concern myself with why.”

His chest is a little tight, but -- in a good way. He thinks.

“The sessions might be more fruitful if you shared your thoughts,” she continues, “but it’s not...required. And I will not invade your privacy by finding these answers for myself. Anything I know will be from your mouth, under your own will.”

“That’s --” It’s hard to speak past the lump in his throat. “Thank you.”

“Please note,” she says, voice lilting slightly. “That this is a sacrifice for me. I am very curious.”

She’s teasing. “Well I’ve got many secrets. A few extra names too. Maybe if you do a good enough job, you’ll get a little something extra out of me.”

She hums, pleased. “I will endeavor to put you at ease, Ensign.” Her hands lift, and after moment of silence she says, “I’m going to touch you now.”

He jumps still, but it’s hardly more than a twitch. It’s nice to be touched skin-to-skin like this. Still, he’s not used to it, not anymore, and he squirms a little under her hands.

And even when he was... it was never as gentle or purposeful as Shirayuki’s touch. He finds himself arching into her just slighting, trying to rise to meet each press of her fingers.

“You’re making this harder, Ensign.” She sounds...amused. “Please lie still.”

“You know,” he says as she presses under the wing of his shoulder blade. “You can call me Obi. Considering you’re going to see me without my pants one day.”

Vulcans don’t laugh, but there’s something about her touch that is lighter, playful. “You may call me Shirayuki, then.”

“Uh-uh, Doc.” He grins into his arms. “Last I checked you were keeping all your clothes on.”

He feels her quiver against his back. “At least for now,” she tells him, but he has no time to ask before a rush of endorphins rolls over him, blotting out his thoughts.

“Are you feeling more at ease...Obi?”

He’s hardly in ambit at this point, floating in a blissed out bubble of the top-shelf neurotransmitters, but her voice tethers him back to the Wistal. “Oh, yeah. This is -- great. Damn.”

“Good.” She sits back, hands leaving the skin of his back. He shouldn’t like how he misses them. “I should do your front as well.”

“Mm,” he agrees, trying to locate the muscles that control his hands. He’s lost track of them over the last...half hour? Damn. Damn. “Yeah, I’ll --”

He’s halfway up, hips lifting off the ground and -- oh. Oh, no. There will be no front doing with that happening.

“I change my mind,” he says, trying to sweep his panic under the carpet. “I think -- I think we’re done.”

“The session is incomplete,” she insists, and from this position, he can see the disapproval etched onto her sharp face. “Get onto your back.”

“Doc, that’s just not -- I mean --”

“Do you have an erection?”

Obi doesn’t believe in gods or higher powers, but if one of them wanted to smite him right now, he’d be mighty grateful.

“I --”

“It’s perfectly normal for human men to experience erections while receiving neuropressure,” she assures him. “You are young, and clearly athletic; barring genetic conditions, your cardiac health must be excellent. And I assume that you regularly m--”

“I will flip over right now,” he grunts, sweat beading at his brow, “if we can just stop having this conversation.”

“I’m trying to put your mind at ease --”

“I’m plenty at ease,” he snaps. “That’s part of the problem. You --”

One moment he’s got his head twisted over his shoulder to snipe at her, the next his back is on the ground, and Shirayuki’s hands have pinned him to the mat.

“I’m sorry,” she huffs, looking like she gotten patina from the exertion. “You were just being unreasonable. Your natural human responses do not worry me. Please be unconcerned as well.”

He’s having a real hard time getting unconcerned when she looks like that over him, pinning him down like he’s some sort naughty mutt. “It’s...fine. Just....keep going.”

She nods, sitting back and --

“Oh!” Her eyes go impossibly round. “Is that --?”

“Yes,” he grits out. “You see why -- ahh!”

Her hand reaches between them, pressing his dick down so it’s under her. She stops dead at his moan. “Did that hurt?”

“No, just --” He coughs. “Just sit up on your knees a little. Might be easier.”

She looks dubious, but doesn’t contradict him. “If you say so.”

“Please,” he begs, and she lifts up, just barely.

“Great,” he gasps. “You can, uh, just...do the thing now.”

Her eyes narrow at him thoughtfully, but her hands come to his chest anyway. “As you wish.”

At the end he’s...mostly relaxed.

“I hope this helps you, Obi,” she tells him at the door. “Humans need regular sleep.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely feeling like I could go to bed.” And handle some pressing business, but that’s not something she needs to know.

“I’m glad to hear that!” She offers him another of her bright smiles. “I hope what dreams you have are good.”

“I’m hoping for none, really.” Especially after the way she touched him in there, but that’s a little much to expect. Something tells him that will be on replay in his subconscious for a good long while.

Just great.

“Then that then.” She nods. “Have a good night.”

��You too, Doc.”

He’s halfway down the hall when she calls. “We never talked about your next session!”

“Three times a week,” Garrack tells him, too gleeful. “Every week. Maybe more if your nightmares persist. But that’s where we’ll start.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

She grins. “Nope.”

Aw, fuck.

#obiyukiweek17 #day 6 #star trek AU #my fic #obiyuki #ans #this is a month or two after the first chapter #Obi has just been low key avoiding her #even though they share friends #because he is convinced there is no way to recover #Shirayuki is not of the same opinion

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makku-ruko · 4 years

Text

Magic School mains

Miandre family:

History: Children of Jenissent Miandre and Glory Bayweiver.

Their mother was a sweet, benevolent and weak individual. Frail whereas the father was brutal and reckless yet he’d soften greatly for his wife. They all inhabited a small village to the North northeast of said famous magic school. A quaint village by the name of Reisse.

Mahogany was the firstborn and the only child to have been raised by both parents. Makurai came after. However, at the age of four, Jenissent fell gravely ill whilst pregnant with the third child. Come the full moon, she went into labour in her sick bed and by then everyone was sure it’d kill her....but it didn’t. Once the child was born, Glory forgot himself, quickly dashing out to find a doctor leaving Mahogany to name him.

Believing the saviour of his mother to be the blessings of the moon, he decided on: Tsuki. He’d plucked said name from their neighbour who frequently spoke and chanted blessings of the Moon god. Nobody could understand her yet she was old and wise with her words—passionate. ‘Tsuki’ was all Mahogany could recognise from her speech and so stuck with it. Villagers would smile genuinely and nod in acknowledgement when she spoke. She passed away shortly after Tsuki’s birth.

A few years later, Omo was born and he was named collectively by them all. This was influenced by the neighbours’ granddaughter who took over with her chants of wisdom yet her speech was more casual. She spoke in her mother tongue as a benevolent guardian much like their mother. However, that same night, their father was killed by a creature of unknown origin. An outbreak had occurred and they had no clue that this was the beginning of a rogue attack.

The loss of their father left both Makurai and Mahogany devastated yet Tsuki was always taken aback and focused on Omo. None of the coming minor attacks to the village would faze him as he only remained concerned about Omo. That was all he could see.

Finally, at the peak, when Omo was 12 months, it happened. The final attack that would decimate Reisse and leave it unrecognisable—Arson. The night of the new moon following Omo’s 12 month consisted of a fire attack that burned down the village. Once alerted of this, Mahogany was informed to take the children and leave. Of course he was defiant at first but Jenissent was already sick and dying. He had to...and so he did.

This escape was how they found the current village they inhabit. Pfera.

The kids:

“Botashi wa omoshiroi hito desu!” Omo.

A whimsical and imaginative Child. Omo is a rather hyperactive ten year old that can turn anything into a game with his ability to think obscurely. This is why he was branded ‘Omo’ as in ‘omoshiroi’: Interesting/funny. He hasn’t yet been kept up to speed with the details of his past due to his age but no matter what, he’ll always be looking to play and cheer up his older siblings.

“Soreto boku wa, Usotsuki desu!”

Liar(Tsuki):

Excitable yet untrustworthy. Shitpost and honest? He loves to tease and torment his bigger brother (Maku)— the classic imp. He came to the bar to collect a fallen Makurai but ended up staying due to the conflict. He’s taken interest in Nephilim and John the wanderer as they bring the most conflict. His temperament is unknown. His weakness is cute things such as: Sprinkles.

He and his siblings are the guardian monster hunters of the village. They go by different names as said heroes. He is “The Liar.” His favourite armour is a cloak of invisibility but it glitches out often.

On the inside however, he’s mentally unstable and very sensitive. For a while now, he’s used this ‘alter ego’ as it were to protect himself from being harmed by people. His only safeguard is his family in which he doesn’t need to explain as they know him well enough to tell how he is feeling.

He’s also developed a need for power and a complex of sorts in which he strives to gain power so that he can be important due to his discomfort towards his own identity. He’s aware that his façade will always hurt other people but sometimes will still feel guilty enough to apologise. However, being so self aware of his corrupt moral compass has left him opened to the unexpected, namely being loved unconditionally by his current peers at the magic school. That and the transition of falling in love with two people is now something he must adjust to and finally get comfortable with accepting another family into his life that loves and cares as deeply for him as his biological one.

“M-...murihito desu.” Makurai:

He’s rather shy and suffers from asthma as well as fear of blood and monsters. He’s easily frightened and has a weak heart so hunting monsters is his hell. As a result, he tends to run away often and as he’s branded a coward, he often gets bullied by those of the village. His nickname is ‘Impossible’ Because he’s a pessimist.

At a young age, he wandered off and got trapped within a monster’s nest. There, the babies hatches and one found it’s way into his ear. It nestled itself into his brain and has laid dormant ever since until that one fateful day he ran away to the bar. The chocolate milk producing serotonin ended up waking the creature up. That was his first instance with the beast that sleeps within.

Generally he’s rather calculating but too much of a coward to be upfront and/or abrupt. As such, he tends to be the secondhand to his Older brother who leads the whole team without question.

“Masta Kurai.” Mahogany.

From a young age, he’s always had the urge to help those who could not do it for themselves. From his mother, to his siblings and now leading them as a team. He takes all burdens on his shoulders as the sacrificial substitute in the hopes that nothing will befall his precious siblings. He almost never thinks of himself, catering to analysing the needs of his family instead. None of it is ever a bother. Though he may be considered strict and critical, his siblings never doubt for a moment that he loves them dearly. As such, he will openly display affection towards them and ‘mom’ them in public just because he cares so much. His siblings are his life and he would gladly give his life to protect them– they of course will never let that happen.

He was given the nickname ‘Masta Kurai: Master Dark’ as an homage to the dark authoritative yet protective aura he gives off.

————

As the boys crouched over the new burial of their Mother’s remains, sobbing, a voice appeared to glide on the wind. Caressing their ears.

Mahogany could feel as though delicate hands were cupping his face.

“*My darling....you’ve done such an exceptional job raising the boys...do not weep or fear...you’re a natural born leader and I’m so proud of you...I will continue to watch over you...my little warrior...*”

The voice then shifted to Makurai. He had covered his face, tears dripping through the cracks of his fingers. The sorrow. Such profuse sobbing. The gentle tone of her vocals made it through however. He felt a soft grip on his wrists.

“*Makurai....my sweet child....to struggle so much and still remain standing...I know you don’t think you support Mahogany enough but you do...I’ve seen everything...you will continue to bloom and I will be watching...you’re doing fine..*”

Her words then shifted to Tsuki. His own grief lost within lack of memory. Her face was so blurry...this place...so dear yet he could only feel it within himself. Nevertheless, he clutched his chest. Tears pricked at his eyes. A single one falling yet his eyes remained screwed shut. He trembled.

A light hold graced his cheeks. “*Precious little Tsuki....you don’t need to remember me...but I’m also proud of you...you’re ambitious....you’re strong...yet troubled by so much...it has pained me to watch you struggle...but I know that you’ll be okay...you’re capable of so much...please remember that...your mother and father both believe in you to the fullest...my beautiful boy...*”

Little Omo, his face drenched by the watery pain of realisation. He’d known his mother was not of living...yet the picture of her remains imprinted in his mind...

A delicate embrace to the small child followed by a gentle hush.

“*Ssssshhhhhhh...I know darling...but I have never left you...you have never been alone...my quirky little Omo...I love you so much and have enjoyed watching you grow as well as you are growing...do not be afraid...with a heart of a hero....you will do great things...and your brothers are always right behind you...*”

As if taking place in front of them all, her voice followed through into their ears. Clear yet soft.

“*My precious boys....thank you for returning to me...putting me to rest...As I’ve said...I have never stopped watching over you. Your father and I couldn’t be prouder of the men you are all becoming...we are with you always...until we meet again...I love you all more than words can convey...please...stay safe my children...farewell for now...*”

And with that, her presence vanished. The subtle warmth of love fading appeared to break the hearts of the boys. They broke down further, uncontrollably sobbing. Tsuki and Makurai weakened to kneeling to which Omo started wailing. This triggered them all.

After having cried their hearts out for their losses, they instinctively gravitated towards each other. Huddling upon the grave. There, they fell asleep.

————

Liar’s arc progression:

-Villainous Joker (comic relief)

-anti-hero (Mikhail added)

-Lovestruck (double realisation)

-suffering sanity

-grief

-Cursed darkness (kidnapped saga)

-Last chance for good= empty/acceptance

-Chosen Darkness (final resolve)

-Questioned existence. (Need for power. Under the Goddess’ light)

————

“Ye of holy white. The tides. moon. The night. *

I summon you on behalf of my faith.

Grant me your power. I give my being in return.

Blood to Blessing. *

Bloema, heed my call.”

Bloema’s prayer.

—————

Bloema: demi-Goddess of the Moon. Pale water only works when she’s around her sister, Tsula. She was created by the corrupturer and normally goes for impish individuals. They normally obsess over her due to how quickly she can get into your mind hence why her following became a cult.

Personality wise, she’s much like Enoshima Junko in erratic personality. She can go from lazy mom to bumbling little sister in seconds.

When she and her sister are around, pheromones start to fly.

-Off-white pink tinted eyes. Her aesthetic is basically the reflection of a full moon’s night sky in water. Her fringe is loose yet the top is up and the rest is down. Pearlescent hair with a lilac tint.

#my ocs #my ocs stuff #drawing archive #MAGIC SCHOOL

0 notes

sleepyfan-blog · 7 years

Note

No 8 & ConHayth for the sentences prompts

@balsaminaceae

words: 3,252

warnings: implied parent/child incest, sick fic

summary: Connor visits his father at his summer mansion, finding that the other has come down with a nasty flu.

Connor had gotten a text from one of his father’s subordinates - Pitcairn - telling him that Haytham had decided to go to the manor that was near where he lived and worked. The way that the security officer phrased the text was a little… Odd. As if the other was worried about Haytham in some way but couldn’t tell him what was wrong as he’d been ordered not to say anything directly about whatever it was that was bothering his father, but was worried that Haytham might do something that the CEO might regret later.

As he had gotten the text ten minutes before the end of his shift, and he had been taking care of Connor the cat at his apartment, he knew that it wouldn’t take that long to grab his father’s pet and head over to check up on the other, on the pre-text that he was dropping off the friendly creature at the other’s house. He knew that Connor had missed Haytham, as the brown and black cat always meowed mournfully at him when he came into the apartment, and curled up asleep on the shirt that Haytham had let Connor the vet have, to help his cat adjust to being away from the other.

He finished the paperwork that he needed to do, a nervous, impatient sort of energy filling him as the last few minutes seemed to take forever but he was glad that Haytham had suddenly decided to come to the summer manor on a day where he was in the village, rather than working at the Abstergo facility that he’d been contracted to work at, as the several hours long drive from there to here would have been agonizingly slow.

With his work finished, his father’s cat procured from his apartment and Connor wearing more casual clothes (as well as the collar that Haytham had gotten him - the young vet knew that his father loved it when he wore it, and would hopefully be in a bit better mood to be fussed over while Connor wore it) he found himself at his father’s mansion. He knocked on the door before ringing the doorbell twice, a signal that the two of them had decided upon so that Haytham knew that Connor was coming in through the door (and that he was by himself) so that his father didn’t startle.

The young vet set down the cat carrier, kneeling down as he undid the door latch and opened it. Connor the cat went running out of the enclosed space, yowling happily and likely rocketing to wherever Haytham was. Connor the vet walked through the house, using second sight, spotting his father in the smaller dining room, sitting at a chair.

A soft gasp escaped Connor as he spotted Haytham, the older man’s arms folded on the table, the other’s head resting on one of his arms. The other was paler than normal and was sweating heavily - despite the fact that it was cool. His father was also shivering and had wrapped himself in a blanket. Connor the cat was meowing softly and head bumping one of the other’s knees, before leaping up into the other’s lap, purring loudly as he started to kneed one of Haytham’s legs, obviously happy to be back with his master.

His father mumbled a little, glancing down at Connor, a small smile appearing on his face as he softly cooed “Hello, little one… I did miss you…Mm… If you are hear does… Does that mean…?” Haytham glanced up, his grey eyes hazily focusing on the room around him, eventually spotting a worried Connor “Ah… You are here as well. How are you?”

The concerned frown on Connor’s face deepened a little and the vet moved close, gently putting a hand on Haytham’s forehead responding with “I am fine father…You however… You don’t look so good. You’re also very warm. I think you’re sick.”

“Hmm? Haven’t you heard? I am the ice king of the eastern seaboard. There is very little… Very few people would call me warm although you… My sweet, loving Connor…” Haytham responded, pausing for a couple of moments before continuing. A vague frown appeared on his face as he asked “… What was I saying?”

“You were telling me that you are about to take a luke warm bath, while I find a thermometer. You have a fever, father and having a bath should help.” Connor responded, voice soothing and gentle as he moved closer to Haytham. His first instinct was to pick up Haytham and drag the other to the urgent care clinic, but his father would throw the biggest fit ever after he recovered if Connor was so high-handed.

“Hmm… A bath does sound nice. But I think I want a hot bath. It’s dreadfully cold in here, even with the blanket I am wearing.” Haytham responded, a rather sulky expression appearing on his face. “I am not feverish, I simply… Hmm … I have forgotten what we were talking about… Other than a bath, which sounds lovely. Especially if you take it with me. You do have the next couple of days off, yes?”

“I do, and I would be happy to stay here with you, while you’re here.” Connor responded “… How long have you felt very cold?” He asked as he found a thermometer, double checked that it was an oral one and that it was clean before walking over to Haytham.

“… I started to feel a little chilly on the helicopter ride over here. The pilot who took me here seemed to be rather unhappy about leaving me here, but I… Assured him that you would be… Close by. He left after I ordered him too.” Haytham responded, sulking a little “He was very disobedient. I scolded him for it, but he didn’t seem to mind.”

“Perhaps it’s because he was worried you might have gotten sick, and he wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t suffer alone, without someone to help you.” Connor responded, moving closer to Haytham and kneeling down so that he was eye level with his clearly very sick father. “Please use this thermometer, rake:ni. I know that you say that you’re not sick but… Please do it for me? Besides, you did want me to play doctor with you, yes?”

The irritable expression that had started to appear on his father’s face vanished as an eager expression appeared on Haytham’s face. The other was clearly sick, as Haytham was never so openly expressive. “Very well then, doctor if you insist.” He answered, winking flirtatiously at him.

It would be charming, if Connor wasn’t worried that the other could have a potentially very dangerous fever. The minute it took for the thermometer to read took an eternity, and while the other’s temperature was high, if he could get Haytham to take a cool (not cold, which could shock his system and cause more problems) “Alright, Mister Kenway, it appears that you have a fever. Give me a few moments and I will draw up a bath for you. After that, if you like, I shall escort you to the bath.”

Haytham nodded, a version of his playful smirk appearing on his face “I look forwards to the bath, Doctor.”

Once the water was at the correct temperature, Connor stoppered the bottom of the tub and went to go fetch Haytham - who had fallen mostly asleep at the table, slumped over on it further. His father’s cat meowed unhappily, gently batting and licking the other’s face, nuzzling Haytham. “I’m worried about him too.” The vet remarked as he lightly shook one of his father’s shoulders, knowing better than to try to pick Haytham up while the other was asleep, as Haytham generally slapped whoever tried to pick him up while the other was asleep, as a defense mechanism.

“Hmm? Oh! Connor I did not realize you were visiting, my apologies for falling asleep on you… Ah… You’re wearing my collar…” His father noted, a small smile appearing on his face as he leaned into Connor’s touch.

“I thought it would be a nice surprise for you. Do you need help up? You were going to take a luke warm bath, as you had a fever, remember?”

“Oh, very well. But only if you join me, my lovely doctor.” Haytham responded, winking flirtatiously at him a little. “I would like a hand up, and a strapping and handsome young man such as yourself should be able to help me, yes?”

“Of course, sir.” Connor responded, playing along as Haytham really did need a cool bath in order to help bring down the fever and this seemed to be working so far. His father could get incredibly stubborn and while Connor would drag his father kicking and screaming if he had to, to the nearest hospital, he would rather avoid that if he could. He was able to carry Haytham easily, and the way that his father shivered worried Connor immensely.

The trip to the bathroom didn’t take long, thankfully. “Would you like assistance getting out of your clothes, sir? Or can you manage on your own?” He asked as he turned off the water having already helped Haytham to sit on the toilet seat.

“I can manage that on my own, although I may need a hand getting clean, doctor.” his father responded, winking at him. It was so out of character for Haytham it was almost funny, but given how sick the older man was, Connor was very worried.

“I will be close by, if you need a hand.” Connor affirmed, turning and giving Haytham a bit of privacy, closing the door and pulling out his phone, quickly texting Pitcairn back {father is sick. I’ve gotten him into a cool bath. I will watch over him, but if his fever gets worse, I’ll have to take him to a hospital.}

His father’s chief of security texted back several seconds later, and Connor wondered if the other was in the village as it usually didn’t take such a short period of time to send and receive a text that fast - despite how good the phones they were using were, as distance still was a factor, and the cellphone coverage in this area wasn’t the greatest. {Try to avoid that if at all possible. If you think a medical doctor needs to see him, I will have Church fly out to check on him. The pilot had been concerned as Haytham had been acting oddly shortly after the flight began.}

Connor texted back {I’m not sure we’d have that sort of time. Father’s fever is over a hundred (Fahrenheit) and if it gets too much higher he might start losing brain cells. The bath should help, and I’ll be monitoring him closely. You know how stubborn he gets.}

Pitcairn’s response was again, surprisingly fast {I know well how stubborn he can be. Is there food in the mansion? I can have some of my people bring things for him to eat, or if you’d rather make him something to eat, I can have a couple of them get groceries for you.}

{I’m not sure if he has anything here, beyond canned goods - he hasn’t been in the mansion in months, so it wouldn’t make much sense. I would like groceries, as I plan on feeding him chicken soup and peppermint tea with honey until he gets better and that’s that.} Connor texted back as he strained his ears, hearing Haytham getting into the bath, hearing the other let out a small sound as the cool water enveloped him.

{Duly noted. I will have a couple of men drop off groceries at the front door within the hour. Good luck. Haytham’s been on three international flights in less than two weeks, and he finished spearheading a very stressful merger. All of us were worried that he might crashed. Thomas convinced him to take the weekend off to see you, so he wouldn’t be alone in his apartment.} Pitcairn explained {And one of those flights has been traced as the flight where someone with a particularly terrible strain of flu was on. It’s becoming rather a dangerous epidemic. Be careful, Connor.}

{I will. Make sure to have orange juice for me to drink so that I won’t get sick. Few things get me sick but… I get that from father. If I have to, I’ll tie him to a bed so that he rests properly. Do you trust the men enough with father’s work laptop? It’s the first thing he’ll want - apart from his phone - when he starts getting better. I think I might be able to convince him that he forgot his laptop because he was sick, but not his phone.} Connor responded. It was an underhanded trick, but he wanted his father to get better, damn it. And he knew that his father would try to work himself to death once he started to regain his senses a little. {I’ll also hide his phone charging cord, so that he’ll have a bit longer to rest, as well while his phone charges.}

The response from Pitcairn took a little bit longer this time, and it read {That’s… Surprisingly devious for you, Connor. I’ll pick up his laptop. You have an excellent point about that, and I wouldn’t want him getting sicker again due to his impatience.}

{I did it once before, when I was living with him in New York. He was really badly sick for a weekend. I told him that he left his laptop in his desk at work while he was sick for four days. He grumbled the entire time - especially after his phone died and the cord was mysteriously broken - but he was fully better and grateful for it, in the end.} Connor revealed, he was willing to do a hell of a lot, to ensure that his stubborn, workaholic father was as healthy and happy as possible.

{… So that’s what happened. We wondered and Haytham never spoke of it. I will leave you to tend to him now. Once again, good luck and try not to get sick yourself.} Pitcairn responded.

{Thanks. Knock on the door twice and I’ll know to bring his briefcase over to you.} Connor responded. He didn’t feel guilty in the least for planning this with one of his father’s people, the other needed it.

Connor made sure to layout a pair of comfortable pajamas - which were also a bit warmer than the silk shirt and pants that Haytham had been wearing and knocked on the door “How are you enjoying your bath, sir?”

“I am starting to feel much better, thank you doctor… Although if I could have something a bit more comfortable to wear I would be grateful.” Haytham responded, voice sounding much clearer and closer to normal.

“Of course. I found a pair of your pajamas that seem comfortable and warm. Is there anything else that you need help with?” the vet responded, wanting to open the door and peek in on his father, but resisting the temptation. Haytham wasn’t a child, and though the other was sick, he was still the brightest person Connor had ever met.

“Hmm… Just your charming company, my dear doctor. I must say, I am glad that you do house calls. Do you do them with all of your patients, or am I a special case?” His father asked, sounding flirtatious.

“Just for you, sir. I am happy to do things for you that I would not do for any other patient.” Connor answered, vaguely amused by how corny his father was sounding, but it was sweet and very endearing. He opened the door and sat close to Haytham, unable to stop himself from brushing a stray lock of the other’s wet hair out of his father’s face, a tender and loving smile appearing on his face.

“I’m flattered.” Haytham responded, catching the hand that had lightly brushed his hair and pressing a kiss to the other’s knuckles. “This bath is lovely… Although I fear that I am starting to tire. Mind giving me a hand in order to… Dry off?”

“Of course.” Connor responded, risking kissing the other on one of his cheeks, helping Haytham stand up and get out of the large and comfortable bathtub. Connor kept his hands on his father’s waist as the other toweled himself off, keeping close to Haytham, and smiling softly when Haytham pressed closer to him.

The older man pressed a kiss to Connor’s jaw, humming contentedly “Thank you, doctor. Perhaps later, you will give me a physical, mm?”

“If you are feeling up for it. Here are your pajamas, since you wanted to sleep.” Actually there were a pair of Connor’s pajamas, but he couldn’t find a pair for Haytham earlier. “I will be making a special soup for you, it has healing properties and is filling, I hope that you will enjoy it. And I will be making you tea.”

“I am very lucky to have such a devoted doctor taking care of me. Thank you, darling doctor.” Haytham answered, still flirty.

The next couple of days passed in the same manner, although Haytham’s fever had burned itself out by the end of the first day. Pitcairn had come with groceries and had left with the other’s briefcase. Connor had called into both the clinic and the facility, citing that he needed to take care of someone who had caught the horrible flu, who was very sick and needed his attention, begging forgiveness. Both of his superiors were very understanding, telling him to call them when he was ready to go back to work.

By the end of the sixth day of this miserable flu, Haytham was more present… Which meant while the other stopped flirting with him in entertainingly cheesy ways, it also meant that his father was much more grumpy - particularly when the other found out that he had forgotten his briefcase at work, sighing exasperatedly. “… You’ve been taking care of me for the past week.”

“Yes. You were sick, but not sick enough to go to the hospital… Besides, you hate hospitals more than I do. Church has been out here a couple of times to check on you and he agreed that keeping you at home, while someone makes sure that you take all the fluids you need is fine.” Connor answered matter of factly. “I called in and told them that I was taking care of someone who was very sick - but I didn’t tell them who was sick.”

Haytham huffed irritably “Did you tell anyone apart from Church that I was ill?”

“Pitcairn, but that’s all. The pilot was worried and called him before I came over. Connor’s been worried too. He stayed by your side or on you the entire time, purring his little heart out. He loves you dearly.” The vet responded, smiling softly.

His father sighed a little and shook his head a little, yawning and gently petting his cat and responding wryly “I am lucky to have you both. Thank you for your help. I am… Not yet ready to return to work, as much as it pains me to say… And I would be grateful if you stayed close.”

“I would be happy to keep you company.” Connor responded with a smile.

#balsaminaceae #conhayth fic #my writing

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 7 years

Text

Just A Flesh Wound

Shout out to @demon18x for helping me with ideas! <3333

Ao3

He’s walking down the hall, humming to himself and thinking about the mac and cheese he’s gonna make when he gets to the kitchen, minding his own business. Then he hears the gunshot, and feels the sting in his leg.

“What the fff-“ he says, looking down at his leg and falling to the ground, his vision going blurry.

When he comes out of the shock he’s sitting in a pool of his own blood, there’s a belt wrapped around his thigh, Nat’s is on the phone with someone, and Clint is kneeling next to Bucky yelling at Nat.

“This isn’t funny Nat, he’s bleeding a lot, just tell them what happened!” Clint sounds frantic. Bucky reaches out and grabs his arm slowly, wrapping his fingers around Clint’s wrist and smearing blood on him. Clint’s attention goes straight to him.

“I’m so sorry man! She bumped me when I was aiming and I turned real fast and my finger squeezed the trigger and I am so so sorry!” Clint said frantically.

“Nat’s on the phone now, the paramedics are coming. Shit. I am so fucking sorry Buck!” Clint continued. Bucky blinked hard.

“Stop apologizing. I forgive you, just relax.” Bucky mumbled, his fingers sliding off of Clint. Clint nodded frantically and bit his lip, clearly stopping himself from continuing to apologize. Bucky nodded slowly and glared up at Nat when she laughed again.

“You’ll be fine. It’s just a bullet wound.” She said, looking down at him.

“Yeah. Maybe you should give me the gun and I can shoot you next?” Bucky said flatly, his voice tight. She laughed and Clint spun his head to look at her.

“Nat! Shut up. He’s really bleeding.” Clint said. Nat looked down at Bucky’s leg and then to Clint.

“Okay. Shit. Sorry. They’ll be here in a sec. It’ll be fine.” Nat said, sounding worried now. Bucky took a deep breath and let his head fall back against the wall.

When he opened his eyes he was inside an ambulance. The pain in his leg was dissipating and someone was asking Clint and Nat a question.

“Yeah we’ll come with him, we’re his roommates. We can come ri-“

“No.” Bucky said. The paramedic looked back at him.

“They’re can’t come. I don’t want them in here with me.” Bucky said, staring at Natasha as Clint looked at the ground guiltily.

“Aw come on Barnes it was an accident and you know it.” Nat said, sounding frustrated.

“Yeah. Well. Tough.” Bucky said, leaning back against the gurney they had him on.

“Sorry guys, if he says you can’t come, you can’t come. You can meet us in the ER if you wanna see him. The receptionist will tell you were he is.” The guy said, sounding not at all sorry as he moved back into the ambulance and shut the door on them. He sat next to Bucky and started opening all sorts of things.

“Nice friends you have.” He said, his eyes focused on whatever it was he was doing. Bucky laughed humorlessly through his nose, the quick burst of air making him a little light headed.

“Yeah. They’re great.” He muttered.

“I’m sure. How’s your pain Mr. Barnes?” the guy asked, putting his hand on Bucky’s head and shining a light in his eyes, Bucky grimaced and blinked hard.

“There isn’t any.” Bucky said, and he wasn’t lying. There was a dull throb, but no pain.

“That’s not good is it?” Bucky said, looking up at the guy and not seeing his face, there were white circles in his eyes from the light.

“No, that’s not good.” He said.

“But there might be pain in a second. I’m gonna take this homemade tourniquet off and get this bleeding stopped properly okay? And it’s gonna hurt.” He said, pressing his hand gently to the side of the belt on Bucky’s leg. Bucky took a deep breath and stared up at the roof of the ambulance.

“Okay.” He said, nodding a little.

“Alright. On three. One… two…three.” The guy said calmly and then pulled the belt loose.

“Fuck!” Bucky yelled, his fists clenching so hard his nails dug into his palms.

“I know. I know. Hey, it’s done. We’re done. You did good.” The guy said.

“It hurts a lot.” Bucky said through his clenched teeth.

“I can fix that.” The guys said, sounding amused. He moved out of Bucky’s vision for a second and then the pain was gone.

“Oh wow. Thanks. That’s much better.” Bucky breathed, relaxing again, his head feeling a little light but other than that he couldn’t really feel anything. He groaned and the guy looked at him.

“You okay? Stay with me.” He said.

“I’m with ya. I just, didn’t get my mac and cheese. I was half way through the mac and cheese song too. And those fuckers just had to go and shoot me. Fucking assholes.” Bucky muttered, sounding pathetic and not caring.

“I just wanted some fucking mac and cheese.” He whined, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Mac and cheese song huh?” the guy asked, he definitely sounded amused now. Bucky opened one eye and looked at him.

“Don’t judge me man, I don’t even know your name.” Bucky mumbled, blinking hard and looking at him.

“Ya know what. Doesn’t matter you… you’re really cute.” He said, sitting up a little and grimacing as pain shot through his leg.

“Gee thanks.” The guy said, smiling a little. Bucky felt butterflies in his stomach when his eyes landed on the small gap in the guys teeth. Bucky bit into his lip and laid his head back down, it was feeling heavy all of a sudden.

“Seriously. What’s yer name?” Bucky asked, his words slurring, his tongue was getting heavier in his mouth. The guy looked up from Bucky’s leg for a second and then looked back down, shaking his head.

“Sam. My name is Sam.” He said.

“Sam. Thas a good name. M’ Bucky. M’ real name is James buu nobuddy calls me tha.” He said slowly, his vision was going grey at the edges.

“Hey. Bucky. Hey I need you to stay with me okay?” The guy, Sam, said, his voice going a little frantic.

“Hey man, can you go any faster I think we’re losing him!” he called over Bucky’s heads, Bucky felt the ambulance jerk a little and guessed the person driving had sped up even more.

“Hey. Stay with me okay?” Sam said, leaning over Bucky now, one hand on the side of Bucky’s face, the other still putting pressure on his leg. Bucky thought that that had to be uncomfortable, and a really awkward position.

“That can’t feel good.” He muttered, licking his lips, his mouth was dry.

“What can’t feel good?” Sam asked, leaning closer, Bucky blinked hard and looked into Sam’s eyes, they were gorgeous.

“So pretty.” Bucky sighed, smiling up at Sam. He saw Sam shake his head again.

“You know you’re bleeding out right now, right?” Sam asked, pressing down harder on Bucky’s leg, like he was trying to make a point. Bucky shrugged the best he could.

“Doesn’ change the fact tha yer pretty.” He slurred, smiling at Sam again. Sam laughed this time, not a big laugh, but a nice small chuckle that rang through Bucky’s head like music.

“Thanks, I appreciate that Bucky. Now just stay with me okay? Just keep those eyes open for me.” Sam said, moving his thumb against Bucky’s cheek slowly. Bucky nodded but his eyes were falling closed, he snapped them open twice before his vision went black, the last thing he saw was Sam looking frantic, yelling at him to stay awake.

~***~

“You wanna make a trade?” the girl asked, narrowing her eyes at Bucky. He was laying in bed in the recovery room, he’d been talking to this girl for about an hour, her name was Sarah, with and H, her arm was in a sling and she had a huge bruise on her face. She’d been hit by a car and had gotten out of surgery about two hours after Bucky.

“What do you want for it?” he asked, narrowing his eyes in return.

“Show me your bullet wound.” She said, nodding at his leg. He raised his eyebrow and looked to his leg and then back to Sarah.

“You wanna see my bullet wound?” he asked. She nodded slowly.

“Yup. The exit one. That one’s always bigger. You show me the exit wound, I give you the Jello cup. Simple trade.” She said. Bucky hummed and licked his lips. This girl was a master manipulator, that was for sure.

“I can’t do it. The exit wound is on the inside of my thigh, I’ll feel weird. I’m not showing the inside of my thigh to a little girl.” Bucky said, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head.

“Okay I’m not that little. And I’ve seen the insides of lots of boys’ thighs.” She said, crossing her own arms. Bucky made a face at her.

“Okay, well, first off, I’m not a boy, I’m a grown man. Second, I feel like dating or liking each other, or just generally being a child has changed a lot since I was a kid, why are you looking at boys thighs?” he asked, his voice going high. Sarah giggled and scrunched her nose up.

“You’re weird.” She said. Bucky nodded and sighed, looking into his lap dejectedly.

“I know.”

She snorted and shook her head.

“So what else you got to trade then? Cuz you still want the Jello right?” she asked, Bucky looked back to her.

“Yeah. Of course I do. Okay, how bout this, I show you the entry wound, no exit wound, and you hand the Jello over kindly?” Bucky proposed.

“Show me the exit wound and I get to touch your stitches gently. Then I give you the Jello.” She shot back, quick as a flash.

“Deal!” Bucky said, snapping his fingers and pointing at her. He went to work pulling the bandage off his leg as she hopped gently off her bed and waddled over to him, her bare feet pattering on the tile floor. She looked at it for a long time and then reached out and gently ran her finger across the line of black stitches on his leg. Bucky barely felt it.

“Cool.” She breathed out and then turned and waddled back to her bed, reaching up and grabbing her Jello cup carefully. She walked it carefully over to Bucky and handed it to him with a smile.

“Thanks for letting me touch ‘em.” She said, smiling widely. Bucky nodded at her.

“Anytime kid.” He said and then shoved a spoonful of red Jello into his mouth.

“To-ally worf it by the way.” He said, his mouth full of food. She giggled and scrunched her nose again as she climbed back into her bed. She’d just pulled the covers back over herself when her doctor came in.

“Alrighty Sarah, we’ve got your private room ready for you. Ready to go?” he asked. Sarah nodded and relaxed into her bed. She gave Bucky a small wave as she was wheeled past him. Bucky’s eyes fell on Sam standing near the door as he watched her be wheeled away.

“Oh. Hi.” Bucky said, spooning more Jello into his mouth. Sam nodded at him.

“Hey. I come unarmed, and with food. Which I see now was a good idea since you seem to be starving.” Sam said, amusement filling his voice, the corner of his mouth twitching. Bucky paused with the spoon still touching his bottom lip, he swallowed his Jello.

“What kinda food?” he asked, narrowing his eyes a little. Sam held up the plastic container so Bucky could see it.

“Homemade five cheese, mac and cheese. My mom’s recipe, so I can’t tell you what’s in it. But I can tell you that you’ll like it.” He said, smiling softly at Bucky as he walked closer. Bucky dropped his hands in his lap, spoon in one hand, empty Jello cup in the other. He let his head fall back and his eyes fall closed as he took a deep breath. He opened his eyes slowly and looked at Sam.

“Marry me.” He sighed. Sam laughed loudly, his head thrown back, his hand resting on his stomach, and yeah, Bucky needed to hear and see the every damn day of his life. Sam shook his head and looked at Bucky.

“You’re somethin else, you know that?” he said, looking at Bucky oddly. Bucky nodded and bit his lip, his eyes falling to the plastic container in Sam’s hand.

“Oh, here.” Sam said, startling and handing it to Bucky. Bucky popped the lid off and scooped out a huge bite, shoving it in his mouth without hesitation. He moaned loudly, his eyes falling closed again.

“Holy fuck that’s amazing. Go you. Go your mom. She’s a saint. That is truly wonderful.” Bucky said, eventually opening his eyes to see Sam staring at him, his eyes a little wider than they had been before.

“You alright?” Bucky asked. Sam blinked quickly and looked at him.

“Yeah. I’m good.” He said, swallowing hard. Bucky nodded at him and took another bite.

“Besides. Shouldn’t I be asking you if you’re alright? You’re the one that got shot.” Sam said, sitting down in the chair next to Bucky’s bed. Bucky shrugged.

“Meh. It’s just a flesh wound. And I mean, it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve ever been shot.” Bucky said, scoffing like that was a crazy idea, him only having been shot once.

“You…you’ve been shot before? Did your friends shoot you that time too?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows at Bucky. Bucky laughed and shook his head.

“No. It wasn’t my friends the first couple times. It was someone else. I don’t really know who. Kinda hard to tell when there’s multiple people shooting at you at once ya know?” Bucky said, shoveling more mac and cheese into his mouth. Sam nodded slowly.

“Army?” he asked when Bucky was done chewing.

“Army.” Bucky said with a nod. Sam nodded again and sat back in his chair. They sat in silence as Bucky emptied his bowl. He licked his spoon clean and then sat back with a sigh.

“So, you were worried about me huh?” Bucky said, the corner of his mouth twitching as he side eyed Sam. Sam opened his mouth like he was going to say something and then he shook his head and laughed.

“I just wanted to make sure you lived man. And make sure that all that blood loss didn’t do any permanent damage, ya know, to your head.” Sam teased, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

“Oh yeah. And what’s the verdict on that?” Bucky teased back, turning his head on his pillow to look at Sam.

“Jury’s still out.” Sam said simply, smiling a little. Bucky dropped his mouth open.

“What? Why?” he asked, raising his head off the pillow, sounding offended.

“Man when I came in here you were bargaining with a little girl for her Jello cup. You let her touch your bullet wound.” Sam said, almost laughing again. Bucky scoffed.

“Well I had to give her something!” Bucky said, throwing his hands up.

“It’s all I had to give! And a trade’s a trade, you gotta give a little so you can get a little man!” he said, shaking his head at Sam like this was the most obvious thing ever. Sam snorted and shook his head again, leaning back in his chair and laughing again. Bucky laughed with him, biting his lip as he watched Sam’s smile.

“You should go on a date with me.” Bucky said, matter of factly as Sam’s laughter died down. Sam chuckled a few more times and then stared at him.

“Should I?” he asked, his lips still curved a little. Bucky nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah you should. I mean, if you want to.” Bucky said, worrying his lip between his teeth. Sam looked at him for a long time. Bucky looked back. And then they were both smiling again.

“Yeah alright.” Sam said.

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, scrunching his nose up. Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Yeah. Will this uh…will this be before or after your leg heals?” Sam asked, nodding to Bucky’s leg. Bucky looked down at his thigh for a second and then looked back to Sam.

“Honestly, I’d go on a date with you now if I could. But I don’t think my doctor would like that.” Bucky said, smirking at Sam when he looked down at his feet, he was shaking his head again.

“Probably not.” Sam agreed, looking back up Bucky with those beautiful eyes.

“You’re eyes are real fucking pretty Sam.” Bucky breathed. Sam swallowed hard and licked his lips.

“Thanks. Yours are really…blue.” He said slowly, staring at Bucky. Bucky nodded.

“I’ve noticed that yeah.” Bucky said, nodding a little as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, Sam’s eyes tracked the movement and then jumped back to Bucky’s eyes quickly.

“Right. Cuz they’re…yours.” Sam said. Bucky chuckled.

“Mhm. They are. You could be too if you want?” Bucky said, scrunching his nose up again when Sam sighed and bit his lip.

“That was really cheesy right?” Bucky asked, tilting his head. Sam took a shaky breath.

“It was…but uh…it kinda works for me.” Sam said, smiling up at Bucky and looking shy.

“Oh well good. Cuz that’s about as smooth as I get.” Bucky said, smiling at Sam. Sam laughed and shook his head. He stood up and walked closer to the bed.

“That’s okay. You kinda had me before you were smooth.” Sam said, moving his finger tips slowly over Bucky’s hand and then tangling their fingers together.

“Oh yeah? Well dang, it must be my lucky day, I got a Jello cup, I got a date with you, I mean sure I got shot in the leg and almost died but that really shy’s in comparison ya know? But I am curious, when did I get you? Was it in the ambulance when I was bleeding on you? I bet it was, that’s really a shining moment.” Bucky said, smiling brightly up at Sam and making him blush. Sam sighed and moved his hand, grabbing his bowl off Bucky’s lap and taking a few steps back. He bit his lip and shook his head again.

“No. You had me when I walked in here and you were bartering with a little girl for her Jello cup to make her smile, because she was hurting.” Sam said quietly. Bucky blushed then, looking down into his lap and smiling.

“Right. Well. That was good too.” Bucky said slowly.

“Yeah. It was.” Sam said, tilting his head and smiling at Bucky as he walked backwards toward the door.

“I’ll call you.” Sam said.

“Do you have my number?” Bucky asked, leaning to the side on his bed, not wanting to lose sight of Sam.

“Oh. No, but I have your address. I’ll pick you up Friday at 7. That okay?” Sam asked.

“You have my- oh right, from the thing. Yes. Yeah. Friday’s good. Friday’s great. Seven is also good. It’s a good time.” Bucky stammered, picking at a loose thread on his blanket. Sam chuckled and looked at his feet.

“Great. See you then.” Sam said, giving Bucky a little wave as he disappeared out the door. Bucky let his head fall back against his bed with a sigh.

“Awesome.” He breathed, nodding to himself as he stared at the ceiling.

He pulled his eyes away from the crooked tiles when he heard the little pitter patter of bare feet on tile. He looked to the door and saw Sarah with an H waddled through the door quickly, a Jello cup in her hand. She pushed up close to Bucky’s bedside and handed him the cup.

“They gave me another one. I don’t like the blue kind. But I thought you might.” She said quietly, smiling up at him.

“Aw yes. The blue is my favorite.” He said, taking it from her gently.

“Was that the cute boy you were talkin bout earlier?” she asked, as she climbed up onto Bucky’s bed carefully. He pushed himself over a bit to give her some room.

“Yes it was.” He said, taking a bite of Jello.

“Well how did it go?” She asked, prodding him in the ribs. He pulled away from her small tickling hands and smiled down at her.

“We’re goin on a date.” He said.

“Nice!” She said, beaming up at him and then relaxing against his side.

“Aren’t your mom and dad gonna be worried about you?” he asked her quietly. She shook her head against him, her feathery hair tickling him.

“No, they went home to get some stuff. They’ll be back in a few hours.” She said, sounding happy enough. Bucky nodded and took another bite of Jello.

“Cool. They gonna bring you ice cream or anything good like that?” he asked, poking her in the ribs gently and making her laugh.

“I don’t know. I asked for tacos. We’ll see what happens.” She said, sounding older than she was.

“A girl after my own heart.” Bucky said, smiling at her when she shoved him a little. She laid against him for a few silent moments and then sighed.

“I guess I should head back. Before Dr. Whatsit’s get’s all freaked out.” She said, sliding off the bed gently. She waved and then headed for the door.

“Sarah. Come here a sec.” Bucky called, she did a little spin and came back to the bed.

“Yeah?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper. Bucky moved his blanket and peeled back the bandage on the inside of his thigh. Sarah’s eyes went wide as she stared at it.

“Awesome.” She breathed, then she smiled up at Bucky, a big toothy grin, and then she waddled back out of the room. Bucky smiling after her as he listened to the soft sounds of her feet disappearing down the hall.

#sambucky #sambucky fic #look i wrote another thing already and its fluffy and silly #my writing #winter falcon #winter falcon fic

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chocolatequeennk · 7 years

Text

Taking Time, 2/5

Summary: Their year with the Master left wounds deeper than they wanted to admit, but now, the Doctor and Rose are ready to take the time necessary to heal.

This is part of the Being to Timelessness ‘verse, falling in between Voyage of the Damned and S4. There’s a lot of emotional hurt/comfort as they work through the trauma caused by the Year That Never Was.

Also, more than any other piece in the series, this one assumes you have read everything that came before it. Chapter 2 references (in order) chapter 34 of Time is Still A-Flying, chapter 25 of To Make Much of Time, and chapter 21 of TISAF.

AO3 | FF.NET | TSP | Ch 1

Chapter Two: Celebrating the Good Times

The freedom to travel without the pressure to fix the universe made their trip to 1969 a holiday to remember. After parking the TARDIS in London so the younger Rose could benefit from her presence, the Doctor and Rose set out to cover as much ground in Britain as they could in a single month. Rose dug out the camera she’d given the Doctor for their first anniversary, and they took hundreds of pictures of all the sites Rose had never gotten to see as a child. They even went to Wales and saw the investiture of the Prince of Wales.

On their final weekend in the past, they went back to the Isle of Wight and stayed in a similar holiday cottage to the one they’d rented almost two years before. They were lounging on the beach on their last evening there, just like they had on their first evening months and months ago, when Rose started laughing.

The Doctor looked at her over the rim of his sunglasses. “What’s so funny?”

“I was thinking, what must we look like to the locals? Some posh couple with too much money who can afford to take a holiday every other weekend, I suppose.”

He blinked, then laughed along with her. Because of course, none of the locals could possibly know that nearly a year and a half had passed between these two weekends.

Rose shifted on their blanket until she was sitting in between his legs, and the Doctor automatically wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close. She laced their fingers together, then stared at their joined hands for a long moment. The Doctor bit back his question and waited for her to tell him what she was thinking, unprompted.

“Did you really not know how much I fancied you back then?”

He nuzzled the spot where her neck met her shoulder, blessing the halter top that left her shoulders bare. “I’m pretty sure you more than fancied me the last time we were here, love.” He chose one particularly vivid memory and shared it with her, then watched in delight as her skin turned pink. He got flustered so easily, but Rose really didn’t. Making her blush with an innuendo was a victory.

“I mean, back when you were the other you. Before you regenerated.” She twisted her neck so she could look up at him. “You really didn’t know?”

It still took the Doctor a moment to track with her conversation, then he remembered that the last time they’d sat on this beach, he’d called himself her “grumpy alien chauffeur.”

He chuckled, then bent his head and pressed another kiss to her neck. “I assure you, Rose, I had no idea.” He kissed her again, just below her ear, and she shivered in his arms. “If anything, I thought maybe you were intrigued by me—the alien with the space ship and the weird, short wand.”

Rose snorted. “Nothing short about your wand.”

The Doctor laughed and tickled her ribs. “Well, I don’t know what humans think of the sonic screwdriver the first time they see it, do I?”

“Silver tube thingy that saved our lives,” Rose supplied. “But back to my point—you seemed so insulted that I didn’t think you were impressive; I figured you knew how impressive you really were.”

“Well, I thought you weren’t impressed, so I was desperate to impress you,” he countered.

“But you know now?” she pressed.

“What’s this about, Rose?”

Rose sighed, then turned to kneel in between his legs, facing him. “Your dream last night.”

He sucked in a breath. When she hadn’t woken up with him in the middle of the night and hadn’t said anything that morning, he’d assumed she hadn’t noticed his dream. He should have known better.

“It was only a dream,” he said quickly.

“Doctor.” Rose pursed her lips, and he knew she wasn’t going to let it go. “You dreamed that I got mad at you because we kept landing in dangerous or difficult places. In your dream, I told you that I was going to stay on Earth, and you could come pick me up when you’d learned how to drive.”

His throat ached, and he clenched his jaw against the tears that threatened. Watching Rose walk away from him had been agonising, because he hadn’t been able to argue with her. Rose deserved someone who didn’t constantly drop her into danger, and if she’d finally realised that…

When he’d woken up, tears streaming down his face, Rose had shifted in her sleep until they were barely touching. The Doctor had wanted to wrap himself around her so she couldn’t leave him, but he’d settled for rolling onto his side and resting his hand on her shoulder. Even that touch had seemed presumptuous, but it was the only way he’d been able to slow his racing hearts.

Rose reached out and stroked his cheek before cupping his jaw. “And I need you to know that there’s never been a time when I would have wanted you to drop me off.” She sighed. “There was that week after our trip to the parallel world, when I realised that I could go on without you if I needed to, but from the moment I met you, I never wanted to be without you.”

The Doctor stared down at Rose, then he crushed her to him. He floated on light relief and didn’t bother to check the tears he felt welling up in his eyes. Thank you, he told her as he kissed her softly.

Rose shifted as they kissed, encouraging him to lie back and roll onto his side. She wanted to hold him, but it was hard to embrace when she was kneeling between his legs.

His tears didn’t surprise her; she’d wanted to cry herself when she’d remembered his nightmare this morning, and realised she hadn’t woken up to comfort him. No matter where the TARDIS took them, being with the Doctor was the best part of her life, and her heart ached knowing he was so uncertain about that.

I love you, she told the Doctor once they were lying back on the beach with his head resting on her breast. She ran her hands through his hair. I love being with you—I’ve always loved being with you.

She reached for the hand he’d draped over her hip and laced their fingers together. Better with two, remember? It’s not about the life or the travelling; it’s about being with you. How else could I stand in the basement of a Cardiff morgue and tell you I was glad I’d met you?

A new thought occurred to her, and the hand in his hair paused momentarily, until his head pushed into it, silently asking her to keep stroking him.

What’s bothering you, Rose?

She hesitated. If he said yes, it would mean changing a huge part of the way they interacted on a daily basis. But it would also mean she’d been hurting him all this time, and in that case, she was willing to retrain herself.

Does it… Rose bit her lip. Does it bother you when I poke fun at your driving? she asked quickly.

The Doctor shook his head vehemently, accidentally brushing his lips against the swell of her breast as he did so. Absolutely not. I know you’re only teasing.

Rose nodded, slightly reassured. Still… If I ever hurt you accidentally, promise me you’ll say something.

His answer didn’t come right away, and she prodded him over the bond until he sighed. All right. I’ll tell you.

An older couple walking by looked pointedly at them before tutting and looking away. Rose glanced down at the way the Doctor had wrapped himself around her and sighed when she realised it really didn’t look decent, by contemporary standards. He’d tangled his legs with hers, and his head rested between her breasts, his lips millimetres from kissing bare skin.

She nudged him gently and smiled when he lifted his head to look up at her. “We’re getting a bit of attention,” she said, nodding at the crowd on the beach who were all purposely ignoring them. “Why don’t we get up and walk along the water to our cottage?”

He sighed, but stood up and brushed the sand off his trousers before offering her a hand. Together, they folded up the blanket they’d been lying on. Rose shoved it back in the bag and slung the bag over her shoulder, then reached for his hand.

“So, any brilliant plans after we pack up the flat in London tomorrow?” she asked. She knew he had plans; he’d been carefully keeping something from her all week.

The Doctor swung their hands between them and skipped a little. “Oh, yes! Well, first, I thought we could spend a few days at home, floating in the Vortex.”

“A break from relaxing?” Rose’s tongue poked out from the corner of her mouth.

“Something like that.” He tugged on his ear. “Also, time to run a few maintenance routines I don’t usually get around to. We’ve done well so far, but if we want to continue hitting the destinations we’re looking for, I need to stay on top of her repairs.”

“Oh, then let’s definitely spend some time at home,” Rose agreed. She shot him a sidelong glance. “Now, are you going to tell me what you’ve got planned, or are you going to keep me in suspense?”

The Doctor looked up at the sky and pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth. “I don’t know… are you sure you really want to know?”

Her impatience spiked, then disappeared as suddenly. “Nah. I mean, I’ll find out when we get there, right?”

She held her hand up to shield her eyes, and the Doctor squinted into the sun, trying to see what she’d spotted. Ah. A ferry.

“Do you think Ryde has ever used “Ticket to Ride” as a tourism slogan?” Rose asked, referring to the ferry port town.

The Doctor looked down at her, feeling some of his excitement dwindle. Then he caught the way she kept looking over at him, and figured out her game.

Oh no, Rose Tyler. If you want to know where we’re going, you’ll have to ask.

He let go of her hand and shoved both of his into his pockets, then stared out at the ferry, pretending to be deep in thought. “I think they do during the twenty-second century. Beatles mania enjoys a resurgence in the 2120s, and if memory serves, Ryde finally takes advantage of the song.”

They stood side by side at the water’s edge for ten minutes, both of them waiting for the other to give. The Doctor was on the verge of caving when Rose exhaled loudly.

“Oh, my God, Doctor—would you just tell me where we’re going?”

The Doctor threw his head back and laughed. “If you wanted to know, you only had to ask.” He laughed again when she growled his name. “Do you know what next week is?”

Rose’s irritation disappeared and an adorable furrow appeared on her forehead as she tried to work it out. “My birthday is still two months away,” she mumbled, ticking dates off on her fingers. “And we bonded for the first time only a week or so before that…”

She gasped, and he knew she had it. “Five years,” she said, disbelievingly. “Next week will be five years since we met.”

The Doctor grabbed her hand and waggled his eyebrows. “Run!” he ordered gleefully, then took off for their cottage, hearing her footsteps pound into the sand beside him.

Ten minutes later, they collapsed, breathless, onto the steps of their cottage. “Okay,” Rose gasped. “So it’s the anniversary of the day we met. But where are we going?”

The Doctor leaned against the door. “Glaurus.” Her mouth fell open, and he tugged at his ear. “I know Henrik’s has been rebuilt, but we couldn’t really find the spot where I first took your hand, since it was blown up less than an hour later. And you said, once, that you’d like to holiday on Glaurus. This seemed like a good time to take that trip.”

Rose chuckled. “Yeah, Henrik’s never was known for being a romantic destination anyway. I suppose Glaurus will do instead.”

oOoOoOoOo

A holiday on Glaurus was as lovely as Rose had imagined it would be three years ago. Instead of landing in the resort town with their favourite restaurant, the Doctor took them to the countryside first. Away from the sea, the ever-present perfume of lemon and lavender hung in the air, reminding Rose of the fields of Provence.

On their fifth anniversary, they moved the TARDIS to the city so they could make their dinner reservations. The Doctor smiled at Rose as they stepped out into the balmy summer evening and held out his hand to her. “Ready to go?”

She took it readily, but the sly smile on her face told him to prepare for teasing. “You’re not going to offer me your arm this time, Doctor?”

He groaned and shook his head. “I really debated that particular piece of advice,” he told her. “Everything else the article said made sense, but we alway held hands. It seemed odd, holding you at a distance like that.”

They reached the restaurant and were seated immediately once he gave his name. Rose smiled at the Doctor once the host had their drink orders and left them alone. “Did you ask for the same table we sat at for our first date?”

“Maybe,” he drawled.

“Do you know what I remember most about that night?”

The Doctor reached for her hand. “You mean something is more memorable than the way I bungled things?”

“You didn’t!” Rose protested. “It was sweet that you cared enough about our first date to try that hard.” The Doctor raised an eyebrow, and Rose shook her head. “I mean it, Doctor. And Mum thought so, too. I told her about our date when I called her right before we ran into the Weeping Angels, and it was the first time I felt like she really understood how much you love me.”

The Doctor rubbed his thumb over Rose’s pulse point. His comment had been more in jest than anything, but her staunch defence was still touching. “Thank you. Now… I think you were going to tell me what you remember most about our first date.”

Rose’s eyes went soft. “Yeah. It seems appropriate to remember tonight. I told you that I never thought we’d be doing this, and you said—”

“Oh, I think this has been inevitable since run, Rose Tyler.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, shivering along with her at the contact.

Then he turned to the server, who was patiently waiting with their wine and crab cakes. “Thank you,” he told the young woman as he let go of Rose’s hand and sat back so the server could pour the wine.

“Not a problem, sir,” she said cheerfully. “You looked too happy to interrupt.”

Rose turned and smiled at her. “It’s our anniversary,” she explained. “We met five years ago today.”

The woman’s eyes lit up. “Oh, congratulations!” Her mouth twisted into a rueful smile. “My girlfriend and I have known each other about that long, too, but I can’t tell if our relationship is ever gonna move forward.”

The Doctor tugged at his ear. “Well, without knowing anything about either of you, I can say that some of us simply move slower than others.”

Rose took his free hand and squeezed. “And I can say it’s worth the wait.”

Their server smiled brightly. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she promised, then took out her notepad. “Now, are you ready to order?”

Over dinner, the Doctor and Rose reminisced about that first adventure they’d shared. “Were you really surprised when you saw my face through the cat flap?” Rose asked.

The Doctor nodded. “It was a good surprise—I started thinking about ways I could meet you again before I even left Henrik’s—but it was definitely a surprise.”

Rose narrowed her eyes. “Hang on. You told me to forget you.”

“Wellllll…” The Doctor scratched at his cheek. “I wanted to get to know you, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t think you’d be better off without me.”

“Oh, my God, Doctor!” Rose buried her face in her hands to hide her snort of laughter. The whole idea that he’d been working out ways to run into her again, but then had run from her the moment it happened… it was so typical of the Doctor back then.

“But you, though!” The Doctor pointed at her. “You looked me up online, you said. So I wasn’t the only one who was intrigued from the start, at least.”

Rose ran her finger around the lip of her glass. “Well, this brooding, Byronic hero had just stared at me with blue eyes that could look straight into your soul, and he told me to forget him. So, yeah—of course I looked you up.” She smiled at him, her tongue peeking out. “And now here we are, five years later.”

The Doctor reached for her over the bond, pulling her into a telepathic embrace. Here we are, indeed.

Rose’s eyes drifted shut. Did you imagine we’d be like this?

He shook his head. Even as I explained bonding to you, I barely let myself hope you’d be interested in sharing a bond with me. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. When you told me you’d love to live with me in your head… I can’t tell you how much that meant to me, Rose.

She smiled, and a moment later, her touch on the bond deepened. I meant it. I’m so grateful you found the courage to ask. I love you, my Doctor.

After dinner, the Doctor led Rose up to the cliff walk. The sun was reaching the horizon when they got to the viewpoint, and they stopped to watch the sky turned pink and gold. The Doctor was holding Rose close, with his arms wrapped around her waist just like he’d done the last time they were here. Then, the intimacy of the embrace had been new and almost overwhelming, but now it was as natural as breathing.

“Thank you for bringing us here,” Rose told him quietly as she played with his fingers where they rested on her stomach. “It’s been nice, remembering our first date at the same time as we celebrated our first meeting.”

This time, when Rose sighed and leaned her head back against his shoulder, the Doctor didn’t ignore the invitation. Instead, he turned slightly and pressed his lips to hers for three quick kisses before she carded her fingers through his hair and held him in place to deepen the kiss.

I love you, he told her as he moved to embrace her fully. From the day we met, for as long as our forever lasts.

oOoOoOoOo

After their week on Glaurus, the Doctor hesitantly started taking them on occasional day trips with minimal planning. The first time they stepped out of the TARDIS on one of these trips, they both nearly turned right around and flew away. How many times had they thought they’d landed someplace safe, only to end up in the middle of a revolution or palace coup?

But the TARDIS hummed, urging them to explore, so they did. And the market the visited was peaceful—well, it was bustling with activity, but politically speaking, it was peaceful, with no danger lurking beneath the surface.

Following that success, they both threw themselves into their new life as travellers. Rose spent evenings in the library, researching new places to visit, and the Doctor kept a constant eye on the state of the TARDIS’ engines, making sure to keep the ship in tip-top shape.

Rose tried not to count the days down to her birthday. She’d never been the type before, but she knew the Doctor was planning something, and she was dying to know what it was. Somehow, she held back her questions, and simply waited for him to tell her.

When she entered the console room after breakfast the day before her birthday and spotted a packed bag waiting by the door, Rose spun to look at the Doctor, biting her lip in anticipation. “Where are we going?”

The Doctor threw the dematerialisation lever, then leaned against the console as they flew through the Vortex. “Someplace I promised to take you two years ago, and then never followed through.”

A few possibilities occurred to Rose, but they landed before she could start throwing out ideas. The Doctor took her hand, then raised his eyebrows and looked at the door.

“Allons-y, Rose Tyler,” he told her, and she opened the door.

The Doctor stood back with his hands in his pockets, watching as Rose stepped out onto the stretch of deserted beach. In a few minutes, they’d move into the nearby resort town and check into the suite he’d booked for the week, but he’d wanted this to be her first glimpse of the planet.

Rose bent down and picked up a handful of the iridescent sand, then let it trickle between her fingers. “It sparkles, like there’s glitter in it.”

The Doctor could feel her trying to figure out where they were, and he waited patiently for the memories to come together.

The last of the sand fell back to the beach and Rose dusted her hands off. “It reminds me of… Oh! This is where you got the incredible turquoise pigment you gave me for my birthday two years ago.”

“Yep!” He bounced on his toes. “This is Ekbrilon. And if my lady would care to step back inside our carriage, it’s only a short trip into town and to our lodgings.”

oOoOoOoOo

Rose studied the furnishings in their room as they unpacked their bag. The duvet cover had a gossamer, mother-of-pearl sheen to it, and the light caught and reflected off the textured walls, casting rainbows on the floor and the ceiling.

It wasn’t until they were outside again, walking towards the shopping district, that she noticed the clothes. “Doctor,” she murmured.

He squeezed her hand. “I know. Ekbrilon means ‘the one that shines.’ Phosphorescence typically wears off after a short while and needs to be recharged by exposure to the sun. But a unique element in the soil of Ekbrilon allows it to hold the charge longer. As you saw on the beach, the ground itself shimmers, but also, certain things will pick up that trait when exposed to the element. That extends to a particular variety of cotton.” He nodded at a passing woman whose hair was wrapped in a turban made of sparkling fabric. “The natives always wear at least one piece of clothing made from Ekbrilon cotton, as a symbol of their connection to the planet.”

“I like it,” Rose declared. “I’ll have to get something for myself before we leave.”

The Doctor grinned down at her. “I thought you might. And I’m sure we can find something for you this afternoon, if you like. But first, there’s someplace I know you’ll enjoy, and it’s right around the corner.”

A moment later, Rose stepped into an airy shop, with big windows that let in plenty of natural light. The scent of oil paints hit her, and she clenched her hands into fists. The Doctor brought you here because he thought you’d love it, she reminded herself fiercely. He doesn’t know…

The Doctor turned to look at her, his brows knit together in confusion. “Rose? This is where I bought that pigment for you. I thought you’d want…”

“Yeah,” she managed. She picked up the closest thing to her, which happened to be a palette. “They’ve got really nice stuff here. Thanks, Doctor.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head, and Rose drew a shuddering breath as she set the palette back down. She’d known he wouldn’t be fooled by her act, but she’d really wanted to get out of the shop before she broke down. Tears welled up in her eyes and she tried to blink them back, but after a second, she spun around and ran out of the shop.

The Doctor found her around the corner in an alley, crouched on the ground and pressing her hands to her eyes. As soon as she’d run out of the store, he’d cottoned onto something, and seeing how much his obliviousness had hurt her made his stomach churn.

She needs you now, not your self-recrimination, he reminded himself sharply. Taking a deep breath, he sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“You haven’t painted since we’ve been home,” he said when she was done crying. “I didn’t really realise that until now.”

Rose nodded and hiccupped. “The Master liked to ridicule me for not having any A-levels. ‘And even if you had gone on for further education, Rose Tyler, you were only planning to study English, French, and art?’” She mangled the tissue he’d given her, and little bits of torn paper landed on his leg. “So it seemed kinda silly to paint. I’ve been trying to study more too; the TARDIS has given me some books to read.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” the Doctor asked quietly.

Rose shrugged. “Didn’t seem important, really. I mean, he was right in a way. Art doesn’t matter as much as science.”

The wistfulness in her voice made his hearts ache. “Do you remember what you told Donna?” he asked her. Rose frowned up at him. “How about we don’t start any more sentences with, ‘The Master was right.’ Because even when he came close, he still got it so wrong, Rose.” The Doctor took her hand and held it up. “That gorgeous painting of Makuyu in our bedroom was done by this hand.” He tapped her temple. “The vision came from this mind.” He kissed her. “I look at that painting every day and marvel at your extraordinary talent and creativity. Don’t ever let anyone tell you art doesn’t matter.”

Rose sniffed and brushed tears away. “I’ve missed it,” she admitted. “It’s been a year and a half since I’ve done more than simple sketches, and it feels like part of me is just… shrivelling up.”

The Doctor jumped to his feet and held his hands out. “Then I think I know what we’re doing for the rest of the afternoon.”

A light he hadn’t known was missing entered Rose’s eyes, and this time, she nearly dragged him into the art supply shop. The Doctor stood by the counter and watched as she tore through the shop like a whirlwind, making selections and adding them to the growing pile before diving back in.

“Your wife must love to paint,” the shopkeeper observed.

“She does, and it’s been a while.”

Rose picked up two tubes of similarly coloured paint and bit her lip as she looked from one to the other. The Doctor recognised her indecision, and nodded from the shopkeeper to Rose.

“Can you make sure she finds the absolute best quality possible of everything she wants?”

Half an hour later, they were on their way to the beach, the Doctor carrying the easel and small canvas Rose had purchased, while she had a bag with all of the paints and brushes she’d chosen for her newest project.

“Sit over there,” she ordered as she set up her easel. “I don’t want you to see it until I’m done.”

The Doctor obediently shook out his coat and sat down on the sand, facing Rose. The colours she’d chosen were mostly shades of blue, and he wondered what she had in mind.

He’d never watched her work before, and the concentration on her face entranced him. After working quickly with a large brush, she bit her lip and picked up a smaller brush, eyeing the canvas as if she were trying to imagine the idea in her head had already come to life.

Finally, she dipped her brush in another colour, and he sighed in relief as happy confidence spread across her face. They were gradually putting their lives back together, and even though he knew this wouldn’t magically make everything better, it was still a major step in the right direction.

The wind kept blowing a piece of hair into her eyes, and every time she brushed it back, she smeared paint on her cheek. “I do not look gorgeous,” she said absently. “I’m sweaty, my hair is a mess, and I’ve got paint all over my face.”

The Doctor put his arms behind him and leaned backwards. “You’re happy,” he countered. “You keep looking at me and smiling, and your eyes are glowing. I hate to contradict you, love, but you’re definitely gorgeous right now.”

Rose rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t fade. Thirty minutes later, she dropped her brush into the jar of water and straightened her back. “I think it’s done.”

She was biting her lip again, so the Doctor pushed a wave of encouragement her way as he stood up and came around to stand beside her.

Then he saw her painting, and he was stunned. The dark blues she’d selected had created a nighttime landscape. A couple walked hand in hand through the darkness, from the nearly pitch black bottom left corner towards the lightest point on the canvas on the far right. She’d used one of Ekbrilon’s special phosphorescent paints to make the sky twinkle with stars.

But it was the couple that commanded his attention. A tall man with brown spiky hair walked hand-in-hand with a blonde woman. They were in mid-stride, and there seemed to be some invisible force making their progress difficult. But as they leaned on each other, the Doctor got the feeling that they would make it, as long as they were together.

“I call it Finding Our Way Home,” Rose said quietly. “Because we still are, even though we’re back in the TARDIS. Figuring out how to pick up the pieces of our old life after a year away… it’s not easy. But you give me the strength to keep trying, when it would be easier to give up and think that this is as good as it’s going to get.”

The Doctor’s throat worked, but he couldn’t get words past the lump there. Instead, he reached for Rose and pulled her close, resting his forehead against hers.

We are going to find our way home, he promised her. I haven’t told you, but I’m so grateful you’re with me right now. I don’t know how I could piece myself back together after the Year That Never Was if I had to do it alone. You give me strength every day, and I love you.

Rose sighed, and he adjusted his hold so she could rest her head on his chest. I love you, too, Doctor. Thank you for pushing me to get back into art today. I feel more like me than I have in months.

The Doctor looked over the top of her head at the painting. “Shall we put it in the study, do you think?” he suggested in a low voice.

Rose nodded. “Yeah, that’s kind of what I was thinking. It’s part of the reason I wanted to do something in blues—so it would match the room.”

She sighed again, and this time, he could feel her weariness.

“I know you probably had some kind of plan for dinner, but would you mind if we went back to our room for the night?” she asked. “This was amazing, but it was draining to create something so fast, after not doing anything in ages.”

“Of course.” The Doctor helped her pack up her paints and brushes. “We could order room service and watch telly, or sit and read.”

Rose pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Doctor.”

He winked down at her. “Well, I want you well-rested for the birthday festivities tomorrow.”

oOoOoOoOo

“Birthday festivities” turned out to be more shopping, then playing in the sea for a few hours. When Rose got hungry, they dried themselves off and went to an open air cafe for sandwiches.

After they ate, Rose rested her elbows on the table and leaned towards the Doctor. “So…” she drawled. “Do we have special plans for dinner tonight?”

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “It’s your twenty-fifth birthday. Of course I have plans for dinner tonight. We have reservations at a restaurant that sits right on the water.” He waved at the expanse of sand surrounding them. “You were too tired last night to experience the full wonder of an Ekbrilon night. I can’t wait for you to see it, Rose.”

She twirled the umbrella from her drink between her fingers. “Since it’s my birthday, would you mind if I spent the afternoon at the spa? I could use some pampering, and then we could meet at the restaurant.”

The Doctor only hesitated for a moment. It was Rose’s birthday after all, and Ekbrilon was perfectly safe. He had no legitimate reason to insist she stayed by his side. And besides… “Well, that gives me time to shop…”

Rose held up her hand. “I don’t need any more gifts, Doctor. You gave me back my art yesterday. That’s the best gift I’ve gotten in years.”

He reached for her hand. I just want you to be happy.

Rose brushed her thumb over his. I am. Thank you.

After a quick shower, Rose headed out for her appointment. She smirked when she remembered how astonished the Doctor had been when he’d realised she’d actually already made plans. It’s good for him to know that he doesn’t catch everything, she thought, though she still didn’t know how she’d slipped in and out of the spa that morning without the Doctor being aware of her absence.

Rose had chosen the salon specifically because it was full-service, including a personal shopping assistant who would select outfits for you to try on while you were in your massage. She told the assistant where the Doctor was taking her, and gave her only one further instruction: “I want him to be speechless.”

oOoOoOoOo

The Doctor paced in front of the restaurant, waiting for Rose to appear. She wasn’t late, but her excitement for the evening had only grown since they’d parted for the afternoon. It was a very specific kind of anticipation that he recognised from other times she’d stunned him with her beauty, and he braced himself at the same time as he eagerly watched the sidewalk.

Nothing could have prepared him for the vision Rose was tonight, though. From the navy blue at the top of the bodice down to the turquoise skirt swirling around her legs, her dress evoked the changing colours of the Ekbrilon sea. And like most things on Ekbrilon, the silk was iridescent—meaning for once, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say she was radiant.

The silky fabric draped over her body, and for a few minutes, he was entranced by the outline of her legs as the skirt shifted around them. He could make out the familiar shape of her left thigh for a second, even though she was fully clothed. Then she took another step, highlighting her right calf, and he forced himself to look away.

Moving his gaze upward, the Doctor swallowed hard when he realised how revealing this dress was. Even though the skirt brushed along the ground as she walked, the bodice was cut almost to her navel. The fabric gathered in wide straps at her shoulders, and as he watched, she did a quick twirl, revealing that the back was equally low-cut.

Rose’s loose curls settled back around her shoulders when she faced him again. There was an alluring smile on her face, but the Doctor didn’t care if the way he was staring at her gave his thoughts away. She looked magical tonight, and she deserved to know that.

The Doctor’s slack-jawed expression and the awe she felt from him over the bond encouraged Rose to take another step, so she was just out of his reach. “Cat got your tongue, love?”

His eyes wandered over her figure. “I think…” He tugged on his tie. “That our reservation is coming up soon, so we should get inside before they give our table away.”

Rose pouted and grabbed his lapel, blessing the heels that added three inches to her height. “Is that all you have to say about my lovely dress?”

She held her breath when the Doctor reached out and traced the neckline of the dress. A moment later, Rose felt him open up the bond so she could tell exactly how much he appreciated her dress. She put her hand on his shoulder to hold herself steady and reflected the same love and desire back to him.

His gaze drifted to her mouth, but as he leaned towards her, someone called their names from the door. Hold that thought, love, he told her as he ushered her into the restaurant.

Consider it held, she returned with a cheeky wink.

They were led through the restaurant to a table on the patio. When Rose stepped onto the wooden planks and felt them move beneath her feet, she realised what she’d thought was a deck was actually a dock. The establishment was built right at the water’s edge, and their outside seating floated on the water on pontoons.

“I like the way they did this,” Rose told the Doctor once the server had left. Each table floated on its own section of dock, separated from the others by water on three sides. It provided a sense of privacy and intimacy that was usually missing in outdoor seating, where the tables were all piled on top of each other.

“This is the absolute best way for you to experience the full glory of the Ekbrilon sea at night,” he explained.

Dinner turned out to be one of the most torturous meals the Doctor had ever sat through. Every time Rose moved, her dress caught the light differently, drawing his eyes to her again and again. It wasn’t like he was ever very good at looking away from her, but tonight he literally could not take his eyes off her.

And she was so enraptured by the setting sun that he would have thought she hadn’t noticed how captivated he was, except for the Mona Lisa smile on her face and the buzz of anticipated pleasure coursing over the bond.

As their empty plates were taken away, Rose squeezed his hand suddenly and looked up at him. “I didn’t really think about it, but we had a year of touches to make up for, didn’t we?”

The Doctor swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he said, his voice raspy. Touch-starved didn’t even begin to express how he’d felt when they’d left the Valiant. The loss of Rose’s telepathic presence in his mind had been excruciating, but a year without touching her, without holding her in his arms, had been its own kind of hell.

“I know,” she murmured. “I felt exactly the same way, but I’d never really thought of it like that.”

He nodded, then directed her attention to the water, grateful he could distract her from the painful topic.

The sun had just sank beneath the horizon, leaving the sky awash in purples and deep blues. But for once, the sunset wasn’t the grand finale. Now that the sky was dark, the water put on a show.

“Is the ocean glowing?” Rose asked. She leaned over, reaching out to touch the water.

“It’s the seaweed,” the Doctor told her. “Remember I told you the pigment I gave you two years ago was made from ground seaweed? Well…”

He pointed at the ocean. Tendrils of light danced beneath the surface as the seaweed swayed with the ocean currents. Like a Van Gogh painting, the water nearest the light was bright turquoise, deepening to cerulean and midnight blue until it brightened again as the next strand of seaweed floated nearby and lit the water up.

Their server appeared again, distracting the Doctor from the babbling lecture he’d been about to give. “Can I interest you in any dessert tonight?” the young man asked. “Our specialty is a miniature chocolate torte served with berries. One cake is enough for two, if you would like to share.”

Rose’s face lit up, and a tiny hum escaped her lips. The Doctor chuckled and nodded at the server. “I think the birthday girl has spoken. And coffee for both of us,” he added, suspecting they’d want something to cut the richness of the desert.

Five minutes later, their server put the cake down in front of them with a flourish. Looking at the mountain of chocolate decadence, the Doctor could understand why he played up the presentation. The double layer torte had a thick layer of ganache on top and between the layers. A pile of berries had been artfully arranged on top of the cake and allowed to spill over one edge, as if the cake itself wasn’t big enough to contain all the flavours.

“You first, love,” the Doctor said, gesturing for her to pick up one of the forks. “It’s your birthday cake, after all.”

Rose stabbed through the layers of cake, making sure to catch some of the ganache and one of the raspberries before bringing the fork to her mouth. Her eyes closed in sheer bliss when the first taste hit her tongue, and the Doctor’s hands flexed with the need to touch her.

Rose’s eyes darkened when she caught the direction his thoughts had taken, and a moment later, she loaded the fork with another bite of the cake, but this time, she held it out for him. “We’re supposed to be sharing, aren’t we, Doctor?”

Sharing that chocolate cake with Rose was possibly the most sensual moment of the Doctor’s life, and when the plate was clean, he was more than ready to go back to their room. But when they left the restaurant, Rose caught a glimpse of one aspect of Ekbrilon’s phosphorescence that she still hadn’t seen yet.

“The sand,” she murmured, staring out at the blue light spider-webbing its way across the beach. A wave washed up on shore, and for a moment, they could see the combination of the shimmering sand and the glowing water. “How is it doing that?”

“All those particles that make it look like glitter during the day make it glow in the dark at night,” the Doctor explained.

“It’s gorgeous. I just want…” Rose bit her lip and looked up at the Doctor. “Can we walk along the water for a ways?”

“There’s no reason we can’t get to our hotel by walking on the beach, instead of the streets.”

Rose stepped into the sand, and the heels of her shoes sank, nearly tipping her forward. “Bloody hell,” she muttered. She flailed a bit, and the Doctor stepped close enough that she could grab onto his arm. “Thanks. Hold still. Yeah—like that,” she ordered, and he watched as she slipped her shoes off, then handed them to him. “You’ve got room in your pockets, right?”

“Of course.”

Shoes taken care of, they set out across the sand. There was something familiar about the image of the two of them walking through an iridescent night together, and the Doctor poked around in his memories until he figured out where he’d seen this before.

“I know,” Rose whispered, squeezing his hand. “It’s like my painting.”

They were almost to the path that would lead up to their hotel when Rose stopped on the water’s edge. The Doctor followed her line of vision to where the moonlight reflected out over the water, adding another layer of colour to the turquoise and blues.

“I want to wade out into it a bit,” she said suddenly. “I just… I know it’s the same water we swam in this morning, but I’ve never stood in the middle of an ocean that glowed in the dark.”

The Doctor stood back a few steps and watched Rose as she waded into the water. The twin moons of Ekbrilon shone down on her, catching the iridescent quality of her dress and making it shine. The navy bodice blended into the night sky behind her, but the turquoise skirt floated on the midnight water.

Rose looked back at him over her shoulder, a mysterious smile playing with the corners of mouth. Her hair caught in the wind and trailed behind her as she walked toward him, holding her skirts slightly out of the water.

It was too late, though. They’d already gotten wet before she’d picked them up, and when she dropped them and the Doctor saw the way the damp fabric clung to her legs, the tenuous control he’d maintained all night disappeared, scattered on the sea breeze.

To his frustration, Rose picked up on his sudden shift in mood and stopped to look at him, her head tilted as she tried to follow what he was thinking. The Doctor shook his head and held out his hand. “Come here, love.”

Rose’s eyes widened at the rough quality of his voice. She took a step towards him, then another, and then she was close enough for him to reach out and wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her snugly against him.

She bit her lip and looked up at him through her eyelashes. Now that she was in his arms, he could see the way the moonlight danced over her features. “You look like a goddess, Rose.”

“Fortuna?” she guessed as she slid her hands over his chest to link them loosely behind his neck.

The Doctor shook his head. “Tonight, you are Selene, goddess of the moon.”

Her lips turned up in a beguiling smile. “Then the goddess has a command for her devoted follower,” she murmured and leaned into him.

He moved his hands, shifting one so he was touching her bare back, eliciting shivers from her. The other moved down to rest above the curve of her bum. “Your wish is my command, goddess.”

“Kiss me,” she whispered, and she was so close, he could feel her lips move to form the words.

The Doctor lowered his mouth the few millimetres necessary to follow her command. As soon as their lips touched, the desire that had been building all night went up like dry tinder.

“Rose,” he groaned when he released her lips just long enough to adjust the angle and deepen the kiss.

She arched into him and parted her lips so his tongue could sweep into her mouth. Tasting the rich chocolate they’d shared for dessert straight from her tongue was even more arousing than having her feed it to him had been.

The Doctor kept trying to throw up barriers for himself, reminders that even though it was late and the beach appeared to be deserted, they were still in a public place, not far off the beaten path. But not even his logical Time Lord brain could get ahead of the utter need sweeping through his body. The reminder that they’d gone a year without any touch at all had made him desperate to make up for lost time.

Of its own accord, one of his hands skimmed around to Rose’s chest, following a path he’d mapped out hundreds of times before. Her pale skin gleamed in the moonlight, and like he had earlier, he traced his index finger along the deep v neckline. A light caress over her ribs pulled the same hitch in her breathing it had always elicited, but he was after more tonight. The low neckline of her bodice made it easy to slip his hand inside the dress to cup her breast.

Rose moaned loudly in his arms when his fingers touched her sensitive skin. Doctor. Oh, God—don’t stop. She scratched at his back, then grabbed his bum and rubbed herself against him, completely wanton and completely unaware of where they were.

The Doctor released her lips with a pop, but immediately trailed kisses along her jaw line. “Rose,” he grunted in her ear when the way she moved against him sent a jolt of pleasure down his spine.

“Yes, Doctor.”

The permission implicit in her words tested the Doctor’s resolve, and for a moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to make love to Rose on the beach. Would the sound of the waves crashing onto the sand be enough to disguise her moans of pleasure? Or would the moons provide enough light for anyone passing by to see what they were doing?

That was the thought that stopped him, in the end. Teasing and flirtation were acceptable in public, but he drew the line at letting strangers see Rose in all her glory. He swallowed and pulled his hand out of her dress. Rose’s eyes fluttered and she looked up at him, the question obvious.

The sight of her lips, glistening and kiss-swollen, tested the Doctor’s restraint, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear. She shivered when his sideburn brushed against her cheek, and he couldn’t resist nipping at her earlobe first.

“Doctor…”

He closed his eyes and took a breath, then whispered, “If we don’t go back to our room right now, I’m going to forget all the reasons I don’t want to make love to you in a public place.”

“Oh!”

Her little gasp tempted him, but he held firm. A moment later, he was rewarded when she grabbed his hand and laced her fingers through his.

“Well then, Doctor,” she said, her voice husky. “Allons-y.”

#ficandchips #ten x rose #dwfic #cq's fic: taking time #hurt/comfort #fluff #lots of romantic walks on the beach #seriously this whole chapter takes place at various seaside resorts #also the master is a bastard #but this is not news #fic by Nancy

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strainingfororiginality · 7 years

Text

Chapter 13

Part 3

2 weeks ago in the Outskirts of New York City

“Someone needs to talk to him … we can’t just … stay here ... waiting.” Ephraim was the first to say anything, as Fet, Gus, and Dutch followed him along their walk down the rim of the concrete washway. It was mid-afternoon, and they knew they shouldn’t be out in the open, but they also needed some privacy for the conversation. That damn half-breed could probably still hear them from here.

“I agree. We really need to start planning ahead.” Dutch said.

“Aight … who’s the unlucky one then?” Gus questioned. Normally, it would have been Abe’s job to try and sway the dhampir.

Fet was still angry, “I still say we don’t need him. I say we go without him.”

Dutch sighed, “I don’t think I like our odds without Q, love. Besides, we finally have a way to track that son of a bit--”

“Den we go ourselves … we don’t need him. We finish dis.”

“And what about her? She’s still our friend.” Ephraim offered to the unreasonable man and Fet shuffled about, not responding while he shoved his hands into his giant coat’s pockets.

“Alright, we need to go, we can’t stay here. Ephraim, talk to him.” Dutch decided.

“Wait … me? Why me?!”

“Because, ese.” Gus slapped him on the back, “You are the one who’s jonesing to leave.” Dutch motioned for the two men to head back with a silent nod of her head and she walked up beside the big man who stared out through the chain link fence that lined the washway.

“Fet, we all miss him …” She knew Fet missed him most.

“He didn’t even let us say goodbye.” She knew he wasn’t referring to Abe. Fet started to walk away from her as he kicked a nearby rock down the concrete embankment, turning away from the Hacker so she wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

“He said that wasn’t his choice. It was Abe’s. You saw him after--”

“After what? You mean … after HE KILLED HIM!?”

“You know it was a mercy. I know you saw it too. That wasn’t easy for him. I know you bloody saw--”

“He had no right to take that away from us.”

“Would you have rather the Professor had asked YOU to do it?”

“I …”

“Would you, eh?” She tried to stop him from walking away from her words.

“... no … I just … I dunno … I wanted to say goodbye, ya know? He got to say goodbye, ya know?”

“Did you really … I mean … honest to god, did you REALLY want to say goodbye? To look him in the face, knowing that he was about to die?”

Fet kicked another rock, refusing to turn around to her or respond.

“Because … if it were up to me … I wouldn’t want to look you in the face. I wouldn’t want to see the way that you would look back at me, knowing I was infested with all that shit.”

“Dat’s selfish … you promise me, you promise me dat you won’t do dat to me,” He turned around quickly, finally showing her his teary face as he grabbed her shoulders, pleading with her as he shook her gently, “You promise me dat if you have dat choice, you let me say goodbye to you.”

Dutch nodded through her own crying and let the big man embrace her with all of his strength.

She offered one last sentence before they walked back to the bunker in silence, “It wasn’t a privilege,” She thought back to the dhampir’s face that night, “What he asked Quinlan to do for him … ”

She still remembered the scene way too clearly. Fet had started to scream from up top, and when she’d made her way to the surface, Quinlan was sitting on the concrete pylon, holding the Professor’s sword perpendicular to the ground, tip digging into the dirt, his chin resting on the wolf handle, the blade streaked with red blood. He stared at the ground in front of him, at the body that lay underneath his own outer coat which he had removed and laid carefully over the old man. Gus was holding Fet back.

The reason why was more than apparent, as the worms were attempting to escape out from under the black wool as they stood there, shocked by the scene. Quinlan sat, entirely unaffected by Fet’s screams, simply staring at the limp figure on the ground and offering only a single sentence before he took the body away to burn.

“Forgive me ... it was his final request.”

“You and the others are welcome to leave at any point, Doctor.” He said from his seated position next to the bed, “I am not forcing any of you to stay here.” This, of course, was a bluff, as he was not really open to letting the Doctor leave at this point, not while she was still in this state. He couldn’t have cared less about the others.

Ephraim sighed heavily, “Q ...” It had been three days since his return with the woman in tow. Three days and she still hadn’t moved an inch. Quinlan had left only once during that time, and that was to return to their last house for various supplies, namely IV kits, antibiotics and food. He allowed no humans to accompany him, as he knew their presence would only provide greater risk.

He had refused to bring alcohol back, requiring Ephraim stay sober until she awoke, and this had put the Doctor on edge for the first two days. All things considered, he seemed to be in better spirits now. Perhaps just less angry at the very least.

“She needs to eat.” Ephraim stated and Quinlan finally stood, turning to look at the Doctor’s face.

“Very well, tell me what you need and I will retrieve it.”

Ephraim shook his head, “We need more than that. We need to run tests … and to do that we’ll need equipment and power … We need to make sure there is even brain--”

“She breaths on her own. She will awaken … I am certain.” His annoyance was ripe, and he got particularly testy with Ephraim each time he bought up this possibility.

“She’s been running a mild fever for a few days now and the antibiotics aren’t having any effect … and that might only get worse. Q, we can’t stay here … for her sake. She needs more help than I can give her locked in this little bunker. We have no idea what that shit you gave her actually did. She needs constant monitoring--”

Quinlan looked back to her, “Where would you suggest we go?”

Ephraim shifted a bit, “I have a few of places in mind. I think we both agree we need to get away from the city for a while, someplace that can be fortified.”

Quinlan did not trust Goodweather, especially after the offer that was made to him by the Master. He knew he had betrayed his friends once before when such an deal had been made, “Goodweather, if you are planning further treachery, I will warn you again--”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Ephraim was honestly taken back by the sudden mistrust.

“Do not think that I have forgotten the offer that my father made to you.” Quinlan stood as straight as possible with his hands clasp behind him as he eyed the Doctor suspiciously. The offer was Zach for Dawn, and Goodweather would do anything to get his son back.

“I’m not a fool, Quinlan.” Quinlan tilted his head to the right, and the Doctor completed the sentence before he could, “I know, I know … I’m human. But I know the Master would never keep his end of ANY bargain. I want her to stay alive as much as you do.”

Quinlan sighed and turned back to the woman, “You will forgive me if I doubt your sincerity.” Besides, there was simply no way that the Doctor wished her alive as much as he did.

Ephraim stepped around him and kneeled beside her bed while he spoke, checking the wound on her shoulder again, “Trust me, I understand. Do I need to remind you that you were a willing accomplice in that same treachery?”

Ephraim pulled the bandage back and neither of them were shocked to see that the wound was entirely gone now, and he pulled the gauze free, touching the skin where there should have been a scar, where there should have been something to indicate she’d been cut. Her other scars were still present though, at least those on her back and the one that Quinlan himself had left on her neck.

Ephraim checked her pupils again and Quinlan used it as a segue to ask something which had been plaguing him, “Her condition … Osteogenesis Imperfecta …,” he saw the Doctor cringe at his correct pronunciation of the Latin term. Quinlan was quite accomplished at language and he knew he could appease the Doctor by using the term without the accent, but he would not. It was a Latin word, after all.

“Yeah?”

“Is it caused by hollow bones?”

Ephraim laughed at the thought, “No. No it’s not.”

“Are you certain? What causes--”

Ephraim interrupted him and turned to look up to his questioning face, “It’s a collagen deficiency.”

Quinlan raised a hairless brow to him.

“It’s defective connective tissue.”

“Connective tissue … around the bone?” Quinlan furrow his brow next.

“No, no, inside. O.K., how about this … It's how they form that makes them weak. It's like using wood instead of rebar inside of a concrete foundation to reinforce it.”

Quinlan nodded, the analogy was sufficient, “Hmmm. Not hollow then.”

“Its funny you ask about it though.”

“Why is that?”

“I think it's gone.”

Quinlan knew he should have been shocked by this, but some part of him knew that was likely the case, “How can you be certain?” If the Professor’s suspicions were accurate, then this condition would not have gone away. If the Professor was correct, then her condition might have even gotten worse.

“Well … I can’t. But her eyes, the sclera, they aren’t blue anymore. I’ve checked every day. They haven’t been since you put that shit in them. But, her DNA--”

“I can offer you no answers on this subject, Doctor. As I have already said. We all have questions for when she wakes.” He lied to Ephraim. He had chosen to keep the conversation between the Professor and himself private for now.

He watched the Doctor finish his examination of her, after which he stood and turned back to face Quinlan, “Listen, I want her to live. She’s one of us. But I know we are both thinking it … as long as she’s alive, he’s gonna come for her.” Quinlan furrowed his nostrils at this, “And as long as we have something he wants, we have--”

“Leverage?” Quinlan attempted to finish his sentence.

“Bait.”

No, he did not trust Goodweather at all. Quinlan rattled.

“Shit guys …” Fet called back from the front of the van, “Der’s people here …”

The first two hospitals that they had stopped to check on their way to Fort Detrick had been entirely abandoned and without power. In the end, they were useless. People had been impressively efficient in their abilities to loot for healthcare supplies after The Fall. This had been the Doctor’s final suggestion and it was a good two hour drive from the bunker.

“What do you mean people?” Ephraim called up to him from his seat in the middle row. Dutch sat next to him and attempted to look around Fet’s shoulder to see what was causing the giant man to slow down.

“I mean, der’s people … LOTS of people.” Fet stopped the van fully on the side of the road as the group eyed the roadblock a mile ahead. Men in Army fatigues walked the barbed-wire barricade with assault rifles in hand.

“It's the military, man. The country’s still fightin’. It ain’t over.” Gus’ voice was full of optimism as he smiled back from the front passenger seat.

“Where can we go next?” Quinlan posed from the final row of seats. He rode with the woman head’s in his lap, her body stretched out across the other two seats. She was short enough that she fit nicely in the width available and there was no need to bunch up her legs. He’d taken off his inner coat and folded it into a makeshift pillow as he held her head gently while they drove.

“No, actually. This is perfect. This place is supposed to be entirely self sufficient. It functions completely separate from the grid.” Ephraim said back to him, “If they are still up and running, then--”

“Goodweather.” He was not amused.

The Doctor turned to face him, “This is her best shot. We run a few tests, get some supplies, a feeding tube kit and then we are out. It’ll be fast … Lickity split.”

Quinlan looked down at her face and brushed the loose hair away with his gloveless fingers. He couldn’t go in with them, he knew. He could at least stay close and he begrudgingly nodded, “Alright …”

He leaned forward as he whispered into her ear, “Do not worry. I will be close.”

Fort Detrick, Present

All things considered, Corporal Webb was actually really cute, but she knew he was probably around ten years younger than her, maybe more. And each time that he used ‘ma’am’ to respond to her, she felt even older.

He’d been nice enough to show her where the ‘bulk of the refugees’ were housed so she could find her friends, and it didn’t take nearly as long as she thought before she spied the giant man in the crowd of dirty and aimless people.

She laughed when he picked her up while he embraced her fully, crushing all the air out of her lungs. “We didn’t think you were gonna wake up!” He was happy to see her which actually surprised Dawn quite a bit. She’d never really considered herself part of their group until this very moment. However happy she was, she immediately launched into her desired questioning.

“Where is everyone else?” she asked. Ephraim’s comment that they were mostly there had been plaguing her.

The smile on Fet’s face quickly faded and his head tilted forward, “Da Professor didn’t make it.” It was not what she was expecting to hear and her hand covered her mouth that had suddenly dropped agape. She looked at Gus briefly before offering her condolences to them as she hugged Fet again, “I’m so sorry.” He was too big to get her arms around fully, but she tried her hardest.

He shrugged off his emotion as best he could and continued, eyeing the young man that was sent to follow her around, “Its O.K. … Dutch is in jail. Eph is …” He waved his hand around in the air above his head, “... in some secret lab somewhere. We ain’t allowed to see him.”

Dawn was trying to be patient with him, but when he stopped there, she was forced to ask specifically, “Fet, where’s Q?”

Fet looked at the soldier uncomfortably again, and this time it was Gus that offered up an answer, “We dunno. He’s gone.”

“What do you mean gone? Gone gone?” She gulped as her heart paused for a brief moment of panic … Gone?

“No … we don’t think so … I mean. He left.”

She looked down at the ground, thinking about it, “He just … left? When?” There had to be more to it than that.

Gus looked back towards the Corporal again. They obviously didn’t want to talk about this now, but she didn’t care, “When did he leave?”

“Two weeks ago … he cou--didn’t come with us.” This was from Fet. She picked up on the near slip … he couldn’t come with them.

Nevertheless, him being gone wasn’t right. That didn’t seem right at all. That didn’t feel right. He was supposed to be close wasn’t he? She wasn’t sure why she felt that way, but the fact that he was simply gone saddened her. After everything, he wouldn’t just leave? At the very least she had confirmation that he was still alive … well, two weeks ago that is.

“I dunno why you care, though. I mean … after what he did to you …” Fet trailed off and she looked back at him with severe confusion.

“What do you mean … what he did to me?”

“Hey, let’s talk about this later? Are you hungry, chica? They make a mad burro over in Tent Seven.” Gus was quick to change the subject in order to subdue the Corporal’s peaking interest. She was not hungry at all actually, even after throwing up everything that she assumed had been her lunch, but she agreed anyways.

She wasn’t physically tired, she felt like she could stay up for days, but Fet and Gus were and when they attempted to take her back to Tent Ten to find a bed, the Corporal interrupted. This was the first time he’d actually spoken to them all night.

“No, Sir. That won’t be necessary. General Shaw has provided her apartment quarters in the officer housing barracks.”

“Wait … you mean she gets a real bed and a REAL bathroom? How do I swing dis deal?” Fet questioned immediately. Apparently accommodations in the camp weren’t to his liking.

“How big is it? They can just come with us.” She immediately posed to the young soldier. It's not like they weren’t used to all sleeping in the same room together already.

“No, Ma’am. I’m sorry. Refugees need to stay in this area.” So, she reluctantly left her friends there and promised to find them the next day. She needed to work on a plan on how to ditch the soldier.

On their way to find her new digs, she questioned, “Why can’t they come with us?”

“Refugees--”

“I know, I know … they are supposed to stay in that area. Why?” This guy was like a broken record.

“Safety reasons, Ma’am.” Ugh, ma’am again.

“Safety for who, exactly?”

“For everyone, Ma’am.” This guy was less than forth coming, but when they got to her quarters, it seemed nicely enough. A one bedroom apartment with a built in kitchenette. It reminded her of the same accommodations she’d gotten at another base she’d stayed at.

“So, where are you gonna stay?” She pondered to him as he followed her inside.

“The couch, Ma’am. I was told not to leave you alone.”

She giggled at the thought of it and she asked, “Does that include when I go to the bathroom?”

Finally he cracked a smile and seemed to relax, but just a bit. His stance and demeanour almost reminded her of another soldier she knew. Almost. This one was much less pale.

“No, that’s fine, ma-”

“Please don’t call me ma’am again.”

He grinned at her, his hazel eyes beaming, “Just Maxwell, then?”

“Sure.” He could call her Herbert for all she cared, but just not ma’am. Herbert? What a strange thought. She wondered where she got that from before hopping off to the bathroom, which was found through the bedroom, and basked in the ability to finally be alone. Her introversion was in full swing and the emotional exhaustion of socializing over the last couple of hours finally hit her. A shower would be nice and she checked that they did have honest to god fucking hot water.

WOW.

THANK ZEUS HIMSELF.

She slowly pulled off the clothes that she had been wearing. First the jacket and then the baggy, v-necked, long sleeved shirt. She remembered Quinlan offered her a similar shirt in the high rise apartment, but this wasn’t the same one. It didn’t have any holes in it, much less the hole that the glass shard had made in her shoulder that night. It was one of his shirts nonetheless, but he’d never worn it. It didn’t smell like him at all.

She wondered immediately as it crossed her if that a was a creepy observation to make and quickly decided that it was. Shame on her. She’d see if she could find a new shirt tomorrow, as much as she wanted to keep this one.

She looked down to her wrist again in the fluorescent lighting and ran her fingers over where the mark had been. There was nothing. She checked her shoulder again and again found nothing. Had it all been a dream? The rocket, , the jump, the glass, the … blood?

The hot water felt more than nice. She’d nearly forgotten what it was like to take a warm shower, as their previous house had none. She scrubbed herself fiercely, knowing that she’d likely only been exposed to sponge baths the last few weeks, and when she was satisfied that she was clean enough, she slipped out and began to dry herself with one of the available clean towels.

As she wiped the steam that had built up on the mirror, she took a look at herself. She didn’t do this often, she’d learned to hate her reflection over the years. It did nothing but cause her stress. Over the years, she looked more and more like her mother and she disliked her very much.

What Dawn saw staring back at her wasn’t entirely what she expected. She felt tired, but she didn’t look it. She had no signs of the damage that the mercenary had inflicted on her that day. No indication of a cut on her cheek or lip remained.

She prodded herself, specifically the area between her eyebrows that had been the first part of her face to really age and wrinkle, but it seemed to be plumper now. The furrows created by her deep thought were still there, but they were not as apparent as she remembered them being now.

She looked at the hair around her face, the wisps that floated down along her hairline and her eyebrows. Was her hair getting lighter? She knew she was starting to grey, but this was more golden than grey or even ash.

Shrugging it off, she admitted that she was tired, even if it wasn’t a kind of tired that sleeping more would fix. She pulled her jacket back on as it was suddenly quite chilly and dried off her hair as best she could before stepping back into the bedroom.

The slightest breeze hit her as she turned towards the window. No wonder it's chilly, but that wasn’t open befo--

“OH!” She suddenly jumped as she realized that the man in black had entered the room and stood before her without making a sound, like the fucking ninja he was.

#strain fanfic #quinlan fanfic #mr. quinlan fanfic #quintus sertorius fanfic #quintus densus #a savage inconvenience #chapter 13

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cwalshuk · 4 years

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Doctor Who review - Spyfall Part Two

Spoilers! Obviously.

If you haven’t watched the second episode of the 2020 series, then go watch it now. Seriously.

Spyfall Part Two sees The Doctor, Yaz, Ryan and Graham attempt to survive the rather tricky situations they were left in at the end of part one.

You can catch up on it on BBC iPlayer in the UK, check local listings for your own country.

Spyfall Part Two begins with a ‘Previously on’ - it's been a little while since we needed one of those! And, armed with the knowledge from the cliffhanger, we can see C’s murder in a new light. He tries to tell Thirteen and fam that he suspects O! Lovely stuff.

Post-titles, we’re back in that somewhere weird place, temporarily home to Yaz, currently to The Doctor. As she's alone, the Timelord is consoling herself by thinking out loud. And what would she say to Yaz, Ryan and Graham, currently on Daniel Barton’s crashing plane? Don't Panic.

I’m tempted to see that choice as a reference to Douglas Adams, not least because there are a number of references to the work of other writers from past eras of Doctor Who, but ‘Don’t panic’ is pretty good advice anyway, right? Particularly as there really isn't any need to, when you’re friends with someone with a time machine.

Y’see, The Doctor (eventually) uses her Tardis to go back in time and install in the plane exactly what Ryan, Yaz and Graham need to land safely. It's a great funny action sequence, and, whilst this sort of solution will be familiar to a big chunk of the audience, new fans need to know that Doctor Who can do this with it's sort of time travel, and does it with panache. I particularly like the reference to Blink, Yaz calmly realising how Ryan's new app can help, and Graham just being Graham.

Meanwhile, The Doctor is exploring the somewhere weird place, theorising that she’s inside something, noting the electrical pulses snaking about, and hoping she isn't in someone's liver. Not because that’d be eurrghhh, but because people tend to take offence! I love that sort of joke, where we end up wondering what happened all the other times she was in someone’s liver.

But then she hears a voice! Thirteen finds a slightly creepy lady called Ada and deduces with her help that their only way out is via a Kasaavin, the light-up alien spies. Introducing pre-marriage Ada Lovelace this way, but not her full name, was cool, and intriguing, keeping my attention through the next scene with the fam - all exposition, the plane will land itself wherever Barton was intending to go.

The Master’s Tardis is in the vortex! Fantastic! He’s in there, congratulating himself with a less than impressed Daniel Barton, when his console and Barton’s phone clue them in to Thirteen’s escape.

Having The Doctor wake up tasting the time period like a fine wine is a lovely touch. She’s back in Ada’s time, at a 19th Century inventors convention, with Charles Babbage! Who wonders how Miss Gordon and The Doctor appeared in their midst. A magic trick, decides Thirteen, so she can carry on without further interruption. Babbage is still unconvinced, not least because The Doc has to ask him what year they’re in. Confirmation of her exact plight brings Thirteen’s thoughts back to the fam.

Ryan, Yaz and Graham have kept out of sight as Daniel Barton discovers from an airport employee that his plane landed autonomously, but empty. We’re back in Blighty, luckily, and Essex too, as Barton has a speech in London that evening. Graham’s joy at being back in his manor is tempered by Yaz’s fears for The Doc’s safety. And Barton is sending some goons after the fam!

Inquisitive Ada gets brought into the loop by Thirteen (with Babbage eavesdropping), but the trio are interrupted by The Master, who must've dropped Barton in the present before raiding his own Tardis wardrobe for his big entrance. Timelord showdown!

Sacha Dhawan is chilling and funny - ‘Hands on heads!’ - as his Master shrinks random convention goers and orders Thirteen to kneel - ‘Call me by my name!’ He does let slip that he isn't in control of the Kasaavin though, but can't divulge ‘news from home’ because Ada’s commandeered a number of prototype weapons from the convention to turn on him, despite her being ‘a lady’. Ada gets The Doc’s grudging approval with her violence, in a way that brings to mind the Seventh Doctor and Ace. The Master gets to disappear in a cloud of smoke, like a panto villain, though he is wounded.

Ryan, Yaz and Graham don’t get far from the airport before Daniel Barton is turning the full force of his tech empire on them. Yaz gets to call her mum before the three of them smash their phones and scarper.

Back in 1834, The Doctor realises she’s in the company of Babbage and Lovelace and is a little star struck. She gets Charles talking about his Difference Engine, an early ancestor of the modern computer, and decides her presence there is a clue. Also catching her eye is the Silver Lady, a gift to Babbage from The Master. It moves and makes apparitions, says Charles. Piecing together everything she knows so far, she concludes that the Kasaavin have been studying Ada by transporting her to their dimension. And they’ve had the Master’s help stabilising themselves in our dimension, readying themselves for an attack in the present day. Thirteen sonics the Silver Lady to bring out a Kasaavin, explaining to Lovelace and Babbage her hope that she can get it to return her to the present day. But Ada doesn't like the risk The Doc’s taking, so grabs her hand. Thirteen shouts ‘No!’ as they both disappear. Charles, now alone, downs his drink.

And that's the last we see of Mr Babbage, brought wonderfully to life by Mark Dexter, who you might remember as the Dad of the little girl in Stephen Moffat’s River Song introducing two-parter Silence In The Library/Forest Of The Dead.

Graham, Ryan and Yaz meanwhile have hidden out at a building site. They realise how little they know about The Doctor, and Graham states his intention to ask for more, sure that he’ll get the opportunity. Yaz channels Thirteen and both Ryan and Graham admit to keeping hold of some of C’s spy tech, just as the Kasaavin appear outside!

Back to The Doctor, who is surprised to find herself and Ada transported to Paris 1943, where a young woman rushes them inside, out of sight of an approaching Nazi patrol. The music swells, the patrol halts, and out of the car steps The Master, still angry, but this time in full Nazi uniform, Doctor-detecting gizmo to hand.

Fleeing the Kasaavin, Yaz, Graham and Ryan risk using the Laser shoes Graham had borrowed from Q, which holds off the aliens.

Meanwhile, Daniel Barton argues with his mother, who he has tied up. She isn't proud enough of his achievements, apparently. That’s enough for him to set the Kasaavin on her, the first victim on this ‘last day’. Pretty ruthless for the fake-out villain, right?

Back in 1943, the Nazi patrol raid the young lady’s home, with The Master hobbling in behind them. ‘You’re new.’ she notes of the injured Timelord. Beneath the floorboards, The Doctor spies radio equipment, and Ada. The Master orders the Nazis to shoot the floor, with just a tap of his cane, but hearing no screams, and getting nothing from the young lady by staring her down, he leaves with the Nazis. As the young lady frees Thirteen and Ada from their hiding place, the Timelord puts two names to the face. ‘Code name: Madeleine, real name: Noor Inayat Khan. First female wireless operator to be dropped behind enemy lines.’ The Doctor’s a fan! And she has a theory about how they ended up in World War II when she was aiming for the 21st century - Ada grabbing her hand knocked them off course.

Noor and Ada are confused, so after The Doctor explains the time travel stuff, Noor tells Ada of the horrors Paris has suffered through. Ada, shocked to learn that the devastation outside the window has happened twice, is consoled by the Timelord that ‘the darkness never sustains’. After assessing Noor’s skills and resources, Thirteen comes up with a plan.

I’m a big fan of The Doctor meeting real people from history, particularly when they can inspire the younger side of the audience, as Noor and Ada surely can. I seem to recall one or both ladies being suggested as new faces for British currency, an honour both merit, though neither succeeded this time around.

Yaz, Ryan and Graham get the better of Daniel Barton’s goons by revealing their location, accidentally on purpose, and then steal their car with the aid of Graham’s laser shoes.

Back in wartime Paris, The Doctor is tapping out a four beat pattern on Noor’s radio equipment. ‘The rhythm of two hearts’. The Master cannot resist responding, allowing Thirteen to make telepathic contact with her old friend. ‘Old-school’ he notes. ‘You’re not the only one who can do classic.’ she replies. They agree to meet at the obvious place - the Eiffel Tower - though it's less of a date, more like a trap.

I love that Chris Chibnall’s script acknowledges how much influence he’s drawn from past Master encounters. The return of Tissue Compression Eliminator, which the Master uses to shrink people to death, suggests that this incarnation has reverted to a personality last seen in the classic era of the show, but elements of Sacha Dhawan’s performance bring to mind more recent ones. I don’t think we’ve seen The Master’s Tardis onscreen for a while either, but that doesn't narrow it down as much as you might think.

Thirteen and The Master use their Eiffel Tower rendezvous to reminisce, which gives us a subtle reference to Logopolis, and The Doctor a chance to pin down exactly which crimes The Masters committed so far in this story. Intriguingly, he also reveals that the Kasaavin were already a looming threat to Earth before he got started meddling, comparing them to modern day Russia, and teasing that he merely improved upon the aliens’ plans.

Yaz, Graham and Ryan, arriving too late to save Daniel Barton’s mum, but just in time for him to gloat before his big speech, learn that the tech CEO allowed the Kasaavin to experiment on 7% of his DNA, and that he has designs on the entire human race. They gather around the Silver Lady.

Noor, at her base, messages London, but doubts she should be trusting The Doctor. Ada reassures her, though neither understands the device the Timelord left with them - a flip-phone! They search Paris by night, discovering ‘something anomalous’, and alert The Doctor.

Hiding the message from The Master, the pair, still high above Paris, interrogate each other. Thirteen reckons she and Yaz survived their encounters with the Kasaavin due to the artron energy they’re covered with, as time travellers. She gets The Master to gloat about his manipulations of Daniel Barton and the Kasaavin. ‘Win, win, win!’ he reckons. She doesn't understand why The Master doesn't stop his games, after all these years, and although he claims its for chaos’ sake, he also concedes that he wanted The Doctor’s attention. He says he visited Gallifrey, their home planet, and found it in ruins, but Thirteen thinks it's another trick. Before he can continue, some Nazis arrive to confront him. The Master, not best pleased, grabs The Doctor by the throat, pushing her to the edge of the viewing platform. Now it's her turn to gloat! She’d got Noor to send a message back to London describing The Master as a double agent, ensuring it could be intercepted by the Nazis. Now they’ve got him at gunpoint - How’s he going to get out of that one!

Daniel Barton walks onstage for his speech, whilst, in 1943, The Doctor catches up to Noor and Ada, who, thanks to Noor’s local knowledge, have discovered the Master’s Tardis. He hadn't even bothered to change it from its Australian outback home appearance! Breaking in, she uses the console to find out another part of The Master’s plan. He’d helped the Kasaavin to spy on people key to the rise of the modern computer age, so that they and Daniel Barton could collect enough data for something they are working on. Something that is connected to human DNA - experiments of some kind!

Barton delivers his speech. His time to gloat. Humanity has allowed itself to be spied upon through our addiction to tech, and it has left us vulnerable. To being reformatted as hard drives. Barton and a few others will be spared, of course, but the rest of us are finished. The Silver Lady spins and glows ominously as humanity begins to be rewritten. Stolen spy tech can't stop it and now The Master arrives (via the slow path) to gloat some more. But then it stops spinning. So Barton flees and humanity is saved.

In strolls The Doctor with Noor and Ada! Thirteen explains that they traced the Silver Lady from its first owner Babbage right through to Barton, and that she hacked it, to ensure it would shutdown if ever loaded up with a massive amount of Kasaavin energy. Angry at the foiling of their plan, the Kasaavin arrive, but before they are exiled by The Doctor, they turn on The Master when she plays them a recording of him gloating earlier on the Eiffel Tower, of his plan to double cross them. He ends up in their somewhere weird place screaming after The Doctor.

Yaz notes that the Doc has more explaining to do, with Graham worried that Noor and Ada are replacing them, and Ryan asking how the Timelord saved them from the crashing plane. Turns out she hasn't, yet! Quick montage to prepare the plane in advance, then back to her own Tardis - hope she keeps The Master’s one somewhere safe!

Before she comes back for the fam Thirteen stops in 1943 to drop Noor back. After reassuring her that the fascists never win, so long as there's people like her, the Timelord wipes Noor’s mind of their whole adventure, to preserve history. She does the same to Ada in 1834, despite the young lady’s protests, assuring the now unconscious Ada that she doesn't need a preview of future tech, since her own imagination helps dream up those advances.

These mind wipes are presented as necessary evils, but leave a bitter taste nevertheless. Couldn't both brilliant women have been slipped the names of fellow Tardis travellers from their respective eras? Perhaps that would be a little too much referencing to previous stories.

The Doctor decides to visit Gallifrey, hoping not to witness the ruins The Master claims, but is disappointed. Devastated, she discovers a device deposited discreetly in her coat. A message from The Master. He destroyed Gallifrey in revenge at his own species for covering up ‘the lie of the Timeless Child’. His words stir a fragment of memory in The Doctor’s mind, but he won’t reveal more out of spite, she Thirteen can only hurl The Master’s device across her console room in rage.

She stews in this mood for days, ‘five planets’ according to Graham, before she gives in to the fam’s questions. She finally tells them - her home planet, it's constellation, her species and that they can regenerate their bodies. She tells them she ran away in a stolen Tardis, and that The Master was one of her oldest friends, but takes a very different path. That’s enough for Graham right now, but Yaz has one more thing to ask. ‘Can we visit your home?’. So innocent, too perceptive. ‘Another time.’ replies Thirteen before rushing to the edge of the console room, back to her fam, to conceal her sadness, her fear. The camera lingers for a second.

Credits roll.

Looks like next week is a lot less heavy, if James Buckley’s appearance in the Next Time trailer is anything to go by. I think we need it after that!

A momentous conclusion to the story (for now), Spyfall Part Two is a triumph.

Chris Chibnall has succeeded in opening the series with a bang, and kicks off what is presumably a series arc by picking up the remnants of one dropped in series 11.

Let's see what Ed Hime brings us on Sunday!

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