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rwbyremnants · 1 year

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Warnings: mostly just incest discussions, slight grinding.

Welcome to the end of this story of MILFs and bad decisions! There's gonna be a lot more - and even before this fic is officially ended, I'm throwing in a bonus chapter. But I hope you enjoyed and I'll be trying to post more soon!

=Chapter 13: Raven

For whatever reason, Raven wasn’t all that surprised she was the first to arrive at the buffet table. She was a woman of few words, after all, and the others could babble for hours - especially when yelling at their own kids about being “sluts” or whatever was going on in the other corners. Just because she had bent over for Yang’s dick didn’t at all make her think that the others would be quite so morally bankrupt.

‘I really am an old whore,’ she thought as she helped herself to a bratwurst. Might as well - plus they had all the toppings she liked, up to and including curried ketchup paste. Many an Oktoberfest had been as memorable for the currywurst as for the actual beer. ‘Funny how I don’t feel any regrets, but I know I probably should. That’s just proof of how much you’re losing it, Branwen; they’ll probably have to commit you soon. Or execute you flat out.’

Then Kali arrived, and they both shared a nod. The lights were still low and swirling, so she couldn’t see her that well… but the slightly cautious manner in which she was walking told the story, especially combined with her tousled hair and the way her fingers fluttered as she waved.

“Huh,” Raven said.

“Yes?” Kali replied, glancing idly over the food.

“Nothin’.” Silence reigned for a few seconds. Then…

“You did it, too, didn’t you?”

Raven turned to look at Kali so fast she probably got whiplash. "Huh?"

"Well?"

She felt her stomach churn. "I'm… you gotta be more specific than that."

"No, I don't,” Kali rebutted with a half-smirk. “But I want you to know that you'll receive no judgment from me."

Because they had both crossed the same line. Raven couldn't be sure, because that was a hell of an assumption to make, but they really seemed to have been in the same boat - both ridden it just as hard in the whitewater rapids of forbidden passion.

"So, uh… some spread they got here," she remarked, for lack of anything better to say.

"Yes, I have to say I wasn't expecting this place to have any food at all." She cut one of the footlong subs in thirds and took one, moving it to a paper plate. "So, while no one else is here yet, I wonder if you would mind me asking a question or two."

"Sure. As long as you don't mind knowing I might knock you on your ass if I don't like some of those questions."

Kali chuckled softly. "You might find that more challenging than you think." She glanced over toward the center of the room, where three figures were just barely visible. It was impossible to tell what they were doing or saying, even though they weren't all that far away. "We really do have some very special girls."

Raven nodded, thoughtfully chewing her bratwurst. By now she was starving - plus it meant she could avoid saying something extra gay about Yang and Ruby. Maybe she wouldn't have, anyway, but lowering the risk couldn't hurt.

"So unless I miss my guess, by now you can fully appreciate why I had such a hard time resisting."

Now she regretted the bratwurst tactic. Somehow, she managed to keep from choking on it, but the slight gagging and the way she had to pound her chest to get the bite down when she hadn't intended to swallow it yet were almost as telling as if she had outright agreed with Kali.

"Mmm, I see. You don't have to say anything, Raven; believe me, I understand why you wouldn't. This is a very touchy subject and most people would never be able to accept this. But I think… you might already realize why I'm not freaking out."

Raven watched her warily for a moment, looking the other woman up and down as she nibbled a corner of the piece of sandwich. "You… mean what I think you mean? No bullshit?"

"I think we just joined the same club, yes."

"God…" She set the bratwurst aside, finding her appetite was suddenly greatly reduced. "I don't know how you can stand there and act like we're not monsters. Not that I was much of a saint before, but this is a new low."

Kali shrugged as casual as could be, taking another nibble and swallowing it before she spoke again. And as she so often did, her words suddenly revealed just how far from casual she felt. Raven marveled at the way that woman could manage her emotions.

"I've felt like a monster for years, tortured myself half to death about this. Now I'm finally starting to feel like I might not be one. It's… very strange, but good."

"For years? You mean…" She squinted hard at the other mother. "You mean you wanted to diddle your own-"

"Careful in that glass house," Kali warned her with a hint of steel creeping into her tone. But she let it go with a sigh. "As it turns out, the feeling was mutual. Hers existed before mine did, and me finding out about her indiscretions had instigated my own."

"Huh? How did you find out?"

Stepping closer and lowering her voice, she whispered, "Poor thing was trying to figure herself out and started trying on my clothes, taking care of her urges while wearing them. I walked in on her one evening. Honestly, I knew I should have cleared my throat to let her know I was there so we could talk it through, but I was embarrassed and knew she would have been even more embarrassed. Then I heard her moan my name, and… as they say, the rest was history."

"Woooow," Raven breathed. "Well… I guess… that's bad, but clearly she wasn't that little if your clothes fit her and she was jerking it. Could be worse."

"Could be. At the time, she was too young; I would never have done anything about it. Probably wouldn’t have for the rest of our lives, if not for this evening forcing the issue." She took another bite, and Raven reclaimed her own bratwurst, since this conversation was going a lot less horribly than she had anticipated. "So I take it from your obvious nerves that it wasn't the same for you and Yang?"

Raven snorted. "Nah. I mean, I don't really get it, I… know we were all wound up from the Spanish fly, but it was weird how easy it ended up being to just… bump uglies with my kid. That’s what sucks about me being such a shitty, absentee mom; she's not even like my kid to me. She's just this really hot blonde with a giant dick that-" She cut herself off before she could describe how well it fit inside her.

"Believe me, I know how good it was," Kali laughed. Raven tried to glare at her about it, but her heart wasn't in it because it was the pot calling the kettle black. "And hmm… I have a theory that might make you not feel so bad about this situation."

"I'm all ears."

"You mostly knew Yang as a very little boy, right? I know you trying to reconnect has been a very recent development." She nodded glumly, since that was dead on, and Kali sighed, "Right. And not only has she grown from a child into an adult outside of your home, but she's transitioned from 'boy' to woman . The curvy bombshell who's entering your life now isn't much like the child that you had to walk away from once upon a time."

Against all odds, Raven found her heart swelling with gratitude for Kali Belladonna. She understood. There used to be all kinds of barbs from Kali and other relations and coworkers and friends about how she had "dropped" her family before, the usual joke about going out for cigarettes and never coming back, but it seemed she wasn't nearly as judgmental about it as she had playfully implied.

"You were never a parent," Kali went on, and her tone was gentle enough that Raven only bristled a little in indignation. "Some people just aren't born with the nurturing gene and you recognized that for what it was. Your marriage wasn’t working because he fell out of love, you didn’t know how to be a mom, and you made a drastic, difficult decision. Only your ex and your child get to judge you for that; only them. Now that Yang is older, you accurately assessed that you could do a better job of being there for her now because you can connect with adults , not kids. And that's fine."

After mulling that over for a moment, Raven shrugged and took a huge bite. "Mm. Connecting with her like this is 'fine', huh?"

"Not for most people, no. But since when does Raven Branwen care what anybody else thinks?" Raven let out a slight laugh through her bite, and Kali smiled. "You'll have to be careful not to let it ruin her life, of course. And you'll also have to figure out what it means for the two of you from here on."

"Here on? I… wasn't planning on it being a regular thing. She can do better than me. Honestly, I think she should end up with your girl, they seem to get along."

The other woman's smile was a little coy. "Yes. More than you know."

She cut off and stood a little straighter when they both noticed another woman approaching. Raven squinted, trying to make out which of the two it could be, but the height and stiff posture very quickly told her it was-

"Willow."

"Branwen," the imperious woman sighed as she cast a critical eye over the food. In the end, she selected another banana. "And Belladonna. Bee and bee; you should joint-run an Airbnb."

"Oh, you're a riot," Raven snorted.

"I trust your conversations with your girls came to a decent resolution? Mine did. It was difficult, but Winter seems to have relented to try rekindling our mother-daughter relationship. And of course, Weiss and I are still doing fine. All in all, I suppose this terrible idea of mine has borne some fruit."

That prompted a laugh from Kali as she swallowed her latest bite. "At least you're willing to admit this was not your brightest notion. But honestly, no real regrets; I think it was for the best."

“Yes, of course.” She cleared her throat and smoothed down her obviously-rumpled outfit. She really had done her best to put it back together, but the sweat and disheveled hair weren’t so easy to fix.

"This 'resolution' you came to," Kali began slowly. "Does it have anything to do with why you seem so flushed and sweaty?"

Instantly, the wealthy socialite grimaced and held perfectly still, halfway through peeling her banana. Raven knew Kali was really on to something. But her only response was, "It must have something to do with that horrible drug. The one in the lemonade? You were the one who was so sure about it - what about your sweatiness?"

"I'm not sweaty," she chuckled. And it was true; even though she had all but openly admitted she fucked Blake the same way Raven fucked Yang, it was almost impossible to tell other than her clothing - and how she had been walking before. What kind of demon had the Belladonnas sold their souls to?

"Hmph. Damn you, Belladonna."

"Aww, is somebody jealous that their sex hair is so hard to tame?" That remark easily cut off any further complaints from Willow.

At that point, a fourth figure came hobbling over to their little circle of sin. Out of all of them, somehow, Theia Nikos looked the worst for wear. Her skirt was on backwards and her blouse was missing buttons, and her glasses were slightly askew - and no longer clean, for that matter. She spent a moment dazedly looking around at the three of them, watching Raven take another huge bite of her bratwurst.

"Well," the normally-composed ginger began with a shaky sigh, trying to sound bright and positive. "I can say that my time with Pyrrha definitely helped make some things clear. How did it go for you girls?"

They all looked at each other, then back at Theia. "Pretty well," Willow attempted cautiously. Then she leaned in and whispered something; Raven couldn't be sure she heard it correctly over the thumping music playing overhead, but she was reasonably certain it went something like, "You really did it. Didn't you?"

"What?" That awkward tone was definitely yet more of a tell.

"Pyrrha!" she hissed. "That was exactly how I looked and felt afterward!"

They both started talking at once, seemingly in a rush to tell the other person how to behave. Kali seemed content to nibble on her sandwich and smirk like a cat that had a mouse in its paws. So once again, even though she didn't really want to be the de facto leader of their little group of ladies, it fell to Raven to step in.

"Alright!" she said loud enough to be heard over them. It only took them a second or two to turn in her direction. "Alright. Let's just say for the sake of argument, and cutting through the bullshit… maybe we all did something we ain't proud of. And I'm pretty sure it's the same thing for all of us. You see what I'm digging at?"

"I'm sure I have no idea," Willow immediately rebutted, being the difficult one as usual. "But if you have sins to confess, be my guest and go right ahead."

“Oh, give it a rest,” Kali half-chuckled. She took a deep breath. “I’ll go first. My name is Kali Belladonna, and yes, I let my daughter use my body as her own personal Fleshlight.”

Willow was the only one who gasped. However, Theia did look surprised - not disgusted or alarmed, just surprised - and took a step forward. “You did? I… really?”

“Yep. Raven, you missed out.”

Now it was her turn to laugh as she folded her arms over her chest. She wasn’t nearly as comfortable with this conversation as Kali; not even close. But the cat was out of the bag, so she saw no sense in doing a lot of posturing at this juncture. “Nah. Yang lays good pipe plenty - but you knew that.”

“Oh, I most certainly do,” she breathed.

“This… this is crazy,” Theia was going on. “I- well, um… I just didn’t think any of us would go that far. But I’m certainly not passing judgment on either of you, it’s… they are consenting adults, technically.”

Kali’s smile was wolfish. “Trying to pretend that you didn’t have the same party over in your corner, Nikos?”

“What? I… I can’t say I know… what you mean.” She flinched back when Kali’s finger flicked out and swiped over the splotch on her glasses. “H-hey! What are you doing?!”

The latter was more in reference to the way she popped the finger into her mouth afterward. She smacked her lips noisily before nodding and saying, “Yep, that is most certainly cum. Not bad, either; I hope you went down on Pyrrha or it would have been a real waste.”

“U-um…” Even with the rave lighting, Raven could tell Theia was blushing up a storm.

“Bingo.” Then she turned to Willow, who raised her eyebrows. “You may as well admit it now. I understand why you wouldn’t, but honestly, no one here is going to hold it over your head when we’ve all fallen into the same trap.”

Raven was nodding along, but then she grunted, “Wait, I thought ‘trap’ was offensive or whatever. Neon said - or was it you, Theia?”

“I meant ‘incest trap’, not that kind of trap,” Kali laughed. But the other three had fallen silent. After a moment or two, she demanded, “What? Why am I talking to scarecrows?”

“You really said it,” Willow breathed.

“Oh, is that all? Yes, incest. So what? It’s taboo mostly because of genetics and the chance of birth defects - a percentage which is a lot smaller than most people think, actually. But we’re all old ladies now. If our daughters wanted to get us knocked up, well, that would really be an uphill challenge. And I think a couple of you are already on the pill.”

Raven cleared her throat. “For uh, regulatory purposes. Fuck periods. I’m about this close to asking the doc to get the ice cream scoop, anyway.” Willow shuddered at that one, too; good. Let the little priss have to confront concepts and coarse language she normally thought were beneath her.

“I’m potentially still fertile,” Theia admitted quietly. “But carrying a child to term would be hazardous, either way - and I doubt it will be an issue.”

“Do… do you hear yourself?!” Willow hissed. “You’re talking about your child’s child! This isn’t Alabama - you cannot, under any circumstances!”

“Kinda makes me want to outta spite,” Raven muttered under her breath, and Kali laughed.

After a few breaths, Willow sighed, “Fine.” She glanced toward the middle of the room, where all of the girls were assembled now. The outrage in her face slowly faded, leaving her looking drained and forlorn. “Fine, you win. We’re all the worst kinds of sluts imaginable. And abusive; this is abuse, it has to be.”

“I never said any of that, Schnee. Just that we might as well fess up, since I’m sure as soon as we go over there…”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I was thinking about. And I wasn’t going to deny it and try to insinuate they’re lying; I just… I can’t let this information get out. I really can’t do that to either of my girls, especially Weiss.”

Kali shrugged. "I can respect that. The question is… now what?"

All four women had to take a moment to reflect on that. Debauched as it may have been that each and every one of them had done something not only illegal, but immoral in the eyes of just about everyone on the planet, they also each knew individually that it had been so easy to let happen, and so natural… maybe only thanks to the chemicals, but also there had likely been something beneath the surface all along. Either way, what was done was done, and they could either panic and lament their lot in life, or…

“Now we love our girls. That’s it.”

“But we love them too much, ” Willow growled under her breath. “I know you were so comfortable with Neon, Raven, but… come on, you can’t really mean it’s ‘fine’ that we keep doing this with them .”

Raven shrugged. “Then don’t keep doing it. I mean, I’m not sure if that's right, either. If you can’t handle the idea of doing the nasty with them from here on, then you should own that. Make the hard choice.”

“But talk to them,” Kali put in, wiping her lips with a napkin. “I’m certainly going to discuss with Blake if she wants to do this again. My guess is ‘yes’; I may as well tell you all that Blake and I already shared a mutual attraction before tonight, since I already told Raven.”

Theia’s brow furrowed. “How… long before?”

“A few years. And if not for our new best friend, Salem, we probably would have kept right on nursing secret crushes forever. I’m not sure if I’m ‘grateful’ exactly, but…”

As surprising as it was, Willow was the one to say, “I can’t imagine, Kali. I’m so sorry. The frustration must have been unbearable, knowing you could never… I’m so sorry,” she repeated earnestly.

Kali shrugged as she speared a cocktail weenie on a toothpick - but Raven could see a shadow within her eyes, even in spite of the lighting. “It worked out in the end. We just have to figure out where we’re going from here.”

“I guess we talk to them,” Theia agreed softly. “I’m… I don’t want to go as far as Kali, saying that I would lean toward… maintaining something this sinful. But the connection I felt with Pyrrha, over in that corner?”

All four of them let out a happy sigh. Clearly, not one of them failed to appreciate what happened to them; they were all varying levels of regretful or scared for the future, but the actual act, the emotional and physical bonding, had brought them so much closer to their girls than they could have ever dared imagine.

In some cases, even revealed that they might have found a soulmate bond. Raven didn’t think she quite felt that way about Yang, but maybe she wouldn’t rule out another session like that. She would have to see what they felt like in the morning. The sex itself had been mind-blowing, but that wasn’t the same as thinking further romps were a good idea, or that they were “in love”. Besides…

Even though they had barely done anything, her mind still kept drifting back to Neon. That poor thing. She had really, genuinely liked her, even if it was a little weird how similar she and Yang were in a few ways; not body type, other than that one notable area, or life goals, but they were playful, fun, upbeat girls. Maybe she was being greedy, but she wanted to see where things might lead if she looked her up again. Maybe nowhere - maybe they were too different. Still, curiosity lingered.

“So alright, I guess I’ll just… go see how they’re doing,” Raven started, clearing her throat. In the back of her mind, she knew she was most nervous about talking to Blake and Yang at the same time, since she had just been with both of them; Ruby not so much, since clearly her crush was aimed more in her big sister’s direction. Plus, she had barely touched her in comparison.

“How they're doing in what way?” Kali playfully asked. “But no, no, I think you’re right; one representative, since Ruby masterminded this whole situation and didn’t lay out that part of her plan yet. We don’t want to immediately intrude.”

Clearing her throat, Raven said, “Doesn’t have to be me.”

“No reason it shouldn’t,” Willow sighed shakily. “My God, I can’t believe this is my life now… it’s literally quite insane.”

“A little,” Kali admitted, giving Raven a slight push in the small of her back. The instinct to turn around and deck her was strong. “Let us know; either give a shout, or just come back.”

“Right. Can do.”

A few steps later and Raven had to question if she was telling the truth. Could she do this? The girls were coming into better focus, and they were all standing around and laughing as they chatted. Her eyes strayed down and saw a few erections; some of them had faded. She wondered why she always looked there first… but then again, after that stage show’s big finale, it was only natural.

“Oh, hey, Aunt Raven!” Of course it was Ruby who piped up first. She ran over and hugged her, poking her in the hip; she was sated enough to mostly ignore it. Mostly. “Hiiii!”

“Hey,” Blake said with a sly smirk. Now that got to her a lot more.

“Cut that out,” Yang laughed as she playfully slugged her on the shoulder. The brunette chuckled, but her eyes lingered on Yang afterward; Kali seemed to be quite correct in her assessment. “Hey, Mom. You coming to see if we already hashed shit out?”

“Pretty much,” she sighed as Ruby released her. She left her arm looped around the girl’s trim back, content with the unexpected warmth and closeness. “We kinda did the same. So… I guess you all know?”

“Yeah,” Weiss scoffed. “I can’t believe Pyrrha got further with Theiaki than I did. What is that?! Am I not literally adorable? I feel… snubbed. That’s it, snubbed!”

“You can stop using that nickname, if you please,” Pyrrha sighed awkwardly. Not that Raven really was following that part, but she figured it was important.

“So we mostly resolved everything,” Blake said in a deadpan.

“Everything’s cool!” Ruby piped up. “I mean, we figured out pretty quick that we all did the thing with all the mommies. It’s, um… weird, yeah, but I think we all had a good time? Right?”

Yang cleared her throat. “I, uh, yeah. But I sure wasn’t expecting that surprise attack, sis!”

“Awww,” Ruby purred with a playful, catlike smirk. “You’re just sore that you didn’t expect me to try it, and I got the- HEY!”

The girl giggled hard as Yang snagged her in a headlock, giving her a noogie with the knuckles of her other fist. Except for the fact that they were nude and both in various states of arousal, it would have been quite an endearing family scene. She glanced over to see Blake watching them with a bittersweet smile.

“Hey,” she whispered, leading her away a couple of feet. Blake followed obediently, watching her face with rapt attention.

“Yes?”

“I know this is gonna sound… hypocritical, probably. Or just stupid. But I gotta ask, you and your mom… before today… did anything ever…?”

When the girl caught on to what Raven meant, she closed her eyes and nodded for a second. “Right. No, no, nothing happened between us. We just… creeped on each other a little. I mean, it was gross for both of us to do, I know that. But we couldn’t help it; I wanted her my whole life, and when she found that out, it made her want the same thing. But nobody hurt anybody, I swear.”

“Okay, good,” she sighed. “Like I said, we’re all still in a weird place, but that’s a whole other kind of bad. Just wanted to double check.”

“Aww, are you looking out for me?” She curled around her - and Raven had to fight down a reaction. That had been quite enough for one night. But Blake didn’t push any more than that; just kissed her cheek and whispered, “Thank you. Honestly, just because it’s not necessary doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate that you would.”

Raven smiled a little. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if she had another visit from Kali's daughter in the future - even if she had her hands full with her own. “Sure. I mean, I’d trust Bellad- Kali, but not over your word.”

“Mm, makes sense. So what did y-HEY!”

“What are you guys talkin’ about?” Yang giggled as she embraced both of them. Raven grimaced slightly but couldn’t help the snort of mild bemusement.

“None of your business. That’s why we’re over here, Yang.”

Raven sighed, trying not to think about all that arousal digging into her through her clothing. Yes, she knew it was thanks to miracle pills that kept them from deflating for a few hours, but that didn’t make it feel any less intriguing. “Alright, alright, enough of this weird group hug.”

“Fiiiine,” Yang drawled out, sticking her tongue out at them. “Imma go see what Kali’s up to, then. See ya!”

“H-hey, no!” But Blake’s protest fell on deaf ears. She sighed and muttered, “Mom really liked her dick. I’m kinda worried.”

“That she’ll take your place?”

Amber eyes blinking, they snapped to Raven’s face as she said, “Huh?”

“It’s obvious you’re crazy about my girl. And she likes you, too. Say something.”

“Well…” She fidgeted for a moment before sighing in defeat, looking out over the rest of the room at nowhere in particular. “I don’t know if it’s worth it. I’ve always… you know, for Mom. And I’m still the same way. Would it really be fair to ask Yang out? I know I love her, and want to be with her, a lot, but… I can’t say for sure if it’s more than my own mother. That’s really messed up.”

Shrugging, she said, “Hey, I let Yang pound me into the wall a minute ago.” She noticed a little twitch from below but didn’t let her eyes glance down at it. “Tonight’s been crazy. But if you and her hit it off, I mean… I could think of worse girls. Easy. You deserve to be happy and all.”

That only made Blake smile again - a real, wide one, even though the girl so infrequently looked that happy. “Thanks, Raven. I’m… honestly, you’re a real catch, too. Still my type.”

“Ain’t my girl supposed to be your type?”

“I can have more than one,” she said airily as she walked back toward the group, letting Raven watch her ass sway. The girl was a natural on the catwalk. Shaking off the arousal that was trying to come back, Raven followed.

“Come on, settle this!” Weiss immediately demanded of her.

“Huh?”

Pyrrha’s sigh was very heavily put-upon, but her tone was still polite when she explained, “Weiss is wondering which of us has the better johnson. I’ve been trying to tell her it’s irrelevant; we’re both beautiful in our own-”

“Yeah, yeah yeah,” Weiss interrupted, stepping closer and putting her hands on her hips so she could more easily jut her pelvis forward. Her decently-sized dick was fully erect yet again, which she had so boldly drawn attention to. “Mine, right? It might not be huge but it’s flawless!”

“I don’t want to enter this contest,” the taller girl laughed nervously.

“Of course you don’t! You aren’t even hard!”

Finally, Pyrrha frowned at her. “I have reached orgasm three times today, you know.”

Laughing openly, Raven said, “Leave me outta this. I’ve touched more dick tonight than Batman has in a lifetime. Not really sure how I’d judge that, anyway.”

“Pleasant mouthfeel?”

They all turned to see Winter had rejoined them. Her cock was ramrod straight as was her posture, but at least it was mostly hidden by her garment, which she had put back on - unlike the other girls, who were mostly nude. Raven was still having trouble fighting down those urges, thanks to having so many pretty girls with pretty peckers surrounding her. What a ridiculous situation.

“O-oh, Winter,” Weiss breathed, instantly more anxious.

“I went to check on our time. We have about thirty minutes to vacate before someone is sent in.” Then she turned to look at Raven. “Ignore my little sister’s pushiness. You don’t have to settle some kind of silly pissing contest; Pyrrha and Weiss both have perfectly serviceable equipment.”

“Roger, roger,” Raven said with a salute. “You oughtta try to get into the military; you already sound like an officer. We could have used a few good women like you out there.”

“Tell that to the military - and my mother,” she grumbled. “But perhaps I’ll try again.”

“Maybe you could help, Aunt Raven,” Ruby hissed, bouncing excitedly.

“Maybe I could. My old C.O. could probably put in a good word.”

“Good word for who?” Willow asked with a sigh as the rest of the group joined them. She was glad to see Yang wasn’t hanging all over Kali, but they were standing together; probably awkward for poor Blake. Or a dream come true, one or the other.

“For your oldest,” Raven told her immediately. She noticed Theia sneaking quietly around the back of the group to put her hand on Weiss’s shoulder, whispering something to her; it was sweet, even if she couldn’t hear any words. “Trying to get her into the military.”

Willow frowned at Winter. “I thought we already talked about how dangerous it is. Especially for a girl like you!”

“I want to serve our country,” she sighed irritably. “I understand you don’t think I should because of my ‘degeneracy’, but that doesn’t change my desire. I think I could have a truly meaningful career there.”

“It’s not about your- do you really not understand that I used that as an excuse?”

“What?”

Glancing over at Weiss briefly - and frowning when she saw Theia backing off instantly as if burned, she took a step toward the taller of her daughters. “Yes, I didn’t approve of your choice back then. I’m still… learning. But I took one look at how effeminate you were, and thought the army would eat you alive! I didn’t want them to haze my child to death before she even got the chance to see active combat! And I didn’t want you to see active combat, either!”

Winter’s face did soften marginally. “Mother, I can appreciate you wanting to protect me. I really can. It just isn’t your place to make that decision for me.”

“Yes, well, I… I suppose you’re right. But do you really have to risk your life like that?”

“Absolutely. I truly believe I do, if the opportunity is open to me. But perhaps I can put in for the reserves or something,” she finally relented, rolling her neck slightly. “Suppose we do have some lost time to make up for, and I can’t do that if I’m deployed overseas.”

“Great.” Raven clapped her hands loudly enough to get everyone’s attention. Weiss and Ruby jumped. “Looks like we got all this sewn up.”

Kali cleared her throat. “Now remember - no one outside this room is to know what transpired here. They wouldn’t understand. Everyone in here is guilty of the ‘crime’ of incest; it’s a really dubious legal issue. Just because I doubt any of you would press charges doesn’t mean we should start parading around with a banner declaring-”

“We’re all motherfuckers,” Yang finished for her with a nod. Blake snorted.

“That… wasn’t how I would have put it, but yes. Exactly.” Glancing at Raven, she went on, “Whatever happens between you when you go back to your homes is up to you; I can’t begin to predict that, and won’t tell you how to live. But this situation was unique. We had substances in our systems that removed our inhibitions. If you want to call it a fluke and move on, then that’s fine. If not… then good luck.”

As she began to move toward the door, it was Weiss who said, “Wait, wait - what does this mean? We’re done?”

“Hm? Oh - yes, I suppose it does. We’ve already… well, we’ve all finished is what I’m trying to say.”

“Uh… not really?” She gestured between her legs. “I don’t want to go out there like this!”

“Then you shouldn’t have taken the side job,” Winter reprimanded her, making the younger sister cringe and grimace. “They explained how this would work and you all went along with it; honestly, it’s a little surprising you can still be aroused after multiple climaxes.”

"I-I'm sorry, Winter. We just usually have waited until the condition goes away before leaving, that's all."

"Hey, most of us are still pretty hard," Blake said reasonably. "Not just the ones who came more than once. Give Weiss a break."

The silver-haired girl smiled with gratitude. "Thank you, Shadow. Yes, it's absolutely the drug; I'm almost never this aroused to begin with, let alone it keep coming back after I already climaxed! I suppose I just thought when we took care of it that would be that, though our training made it pretty clear that isn't always true…"

"Well, do you want to take care of it again?" her sister asked her with a smirk. "Go on, we'll watch."

"Oh, we could do some more practicing!" Ruby piped up, bounding over to the squirming Weiss and snagging her by the arm. "I'm still pretty stiff, too!"

Weiss was definitely blushing by now. "H-hey! Don't be a pest, you are presuming an awful lot!"

"Ohhhh, you're right - we could take turns in the back door, I guess. I tried it on Yang just now and I think I did pretty good! Right, Yang?"

Blake and Kali were staring at Yang just as much as Raven was, though the latter was the only one smirking. The poor blonde was grimacing and laughing in a would-be casual way before hissing, "Ruby, do you gotta tell the whole damn room?!"

Most of them laughed. Not Ruby, of course, who looked chagrined - or Raven. She didn't want to tease her daughter too much, since their tentative rekindled relationship was too new to test in that way. At least, not too often.

"So do all of you want to use the rest of this time to seek out yet another climax?" Winter asked. "I'm fine as is. I'll probably get more tips for the rest of the night in this state."

"Not I," Pyrrha answered with a heavy sigh, staring down at her soft package. "Though I’m glad, because it’s already in enough pain as it is. Perhaps if I ice it…"

Raven shook her head and laughed, pretending not to notice the way Ruby was quietly leading Weiss off into the corner. She noticed Willow's brow furrow, so she helped to distract her by throwing an arm around her shoulders. "I really think the best thing for all of us would be to get out of this room. A lot of crazy shit just happened and somehow, we all don't hate each other. Why risk it by trying to prolong the magic?"

Kali was already nodding before she even finished. "Yes, I agree. Though my libido is telling me I should play a little more, common sense says this has run its course."

Those golden eyes of hers had been focused on Yang the entire time. The poor blonde let out a nervous laugh and scratched the back of her head, her unfortunately still rock hard anatomy refusing to deflate even though it was sore and its owner unwilling.

"Leave the girls alone, Belladonna," Theia sighed. "They're entitled to a break."

"I said nothing, I did nothing." But since her eyes didn't move away, Yang finally gulped and blushed a tiny bit more. Kali's smile widened even more. "Aww, she's sweet. And a lot of fun - I can't blame Rosebud for being unable to resist her tight little ass. But I suppose you're right; we really must be going."

As the rest of them began to filter out through the door, save for a couple of notable exceptions that had hidden themselves away in a corner somewhere, Raven took a look around the dimly lit room. For some reason, she had this bizarre feeling she would miss this place. Why? They barely had a chance to get to know it. Then again, a lot had happened in a very short period of time.

"Ugh, wow, Rubes is so eager," Yang was commenting as they strolled toward the door, hands laced together behind her head and elbows up and out. That was more like the girl she knew. "Went right for my booty hole, and now she's gonna do the same to Weiss. Didn't figure her for such a sex fiend."

"She's not, I don't think," Raven said thoughtfully. "I mean… I'm no genius, but I'd lay odds she just likes being close to the people she cares about. This is just the latest bonding activity - and like any kid that age, she goes for it full throttle."

With a light chuckle that melted Raven's heart, she replied, "Yeah! That's my sis!" Then she grimaced. "My sis who fucked me. Man… tomorrow I'm gonna think this was really cringe, but right now I'm vibing, y'know?"

"Uhhhhh, sure." She didn't want to admit how much of the younger generation's slang she didn't quite understand.

"You let her fuck you while you fucked your mom," Blake said with a sly smile. "I'd be more worried if you didn't think it was weird at all."

"Hey, you fucked your mom, too!"

"We both fucked my mom. Face it, she's just really hot and kind of a slut."

Blake grimaced and glanced guiltily over at her mother immediately after making that comment, but Kali just smirked and said, "And don't you girls forget it."

“What am I, chopped liver?” Raven scoffed.

“Oh - no, no, you’re hot, too,” Blake immediately reassured her, turning a little awkward. “I was just… nevermind.”

“You’re fine,” Kali reassured her with a half-smirk. “Raven’s just a little grumpier than usual. Funny, since she shouldn’t be after all that ‘stress relief’...”

While Raven was trying to come up with a rebuttal to that, Yang bounded over and hugged Blake from behind. “Don’t be such a sourpuss! I mean, we all had a good time, right? Our moms don’t care that you said that stuff, they’re tough ladies.”

However, Blake was squirming all over the place in Yang’s grip. “H-hey! Watch where you’re putting that thing!”

“Huh? Oh - this here? Come on, it's not like we haven't done stuff like this before.” She rolled her hips a little, making her dark-haired coworker groan - and her mostly-hard cock twitch a little bit closer to fully erect again. “Wow, you’re really into it. Almost would think you want me to pump you full, Blakey.”

“She probably does,” Kali said before Blake could protest - earning her a scandalised gasp and a look of dismay. Yep, Raven knew that look; she definitely wanted to be with Yang. Just couldn’t bring herself to admit as much. “You’re quite a good lay, Yang - I already know you can handle that tempting back door.”

“She can WHAT?!” Raven burst out. Kali had gone that far with her kid?!

“So why don’t you take these last twenty-ish minutes and show Blake what you’ve learned? Think of it as more… ‘practice’. You should ask, of course, but…”

Yang looked bewildered, though also vaguely nervous. It did take a moment, but she finally turned and tried to look at the side of her friend’s face. “Blake? I mean, I am pretty hard and all, but we don’t… have to do anything like that. I don’t even know if you’re into all that, back there.”

“Well… Salem already trained me, remember? And it was… fun. Intense, and a little painful at points, but I think I liked it. I just would rather have done it with someone I know and trust.”

“Liiiiike me?” Yang said with a big grin. But instead of laughing, Blake looked down and away, biting her lip, and Yang's grin faltered. “Not with me?”

“Especially with you,” Kali said - for her daughter. Again, Blake glared daggers in her mother’s direction, but the older Belladonna only shrugged with a wan smile.

“That right? Awww, Shadow, you got a crush on me?” Yang giggled.

“Wha- shut up! God, let me go, fuck this! I’m going to go shower!”

But Yang didn’t let go. After a second or two, she turned Blake in her arms until she was grabbing her by the shoulders, staring intently into her face. It got a little uncomfortable; she was breathing hard, trying not to look down at how close their bodies were. Raven couldn’t look away; she was too curious how this might turn out.

Finally, Yang breathed, “Whoa…”

“Leave me alone.”

“No, Blake, I was… I didn’t think…” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “For real, I thought there’d be no way you were into me. I-it was just a joke, because… because I th-”

“It’s fine.”

Yang shook her head so hard her golden locks bounced all over the place. “It’s not fine. Dude, I really like you, and… if you have a crush on me, I mean, I just don’t know why you would. I’m a girl like you are, and you like your mom and all that, right? I’m nothin’ like Kali.”

That got Blake out of her spiral at last, and she looked up earnestly. “So what? I can have more than one type. Pretty much MILFs, and uh, and… you.”

“What, blonde half-asian chicks?” she cackled.

“No. Just you, Yang.”

“Huh.” It seemed to be finally catching up to her - and Raven felt a tug at her elbow. As she allowed Kali to drag her toward the exit, she just barely heard her daughter breathing, “Holy shit. Are you fucking serious?!”

“You’re such a dork,” Blake said with a nervous chuckle just before the door swung shut.

Now that they were back in the hallway in the back of the main club, Raven grunted in annoyance. “Why’d you drag us outta there? I wanted to see if the kids actually made a love connection.”

“Because it wasn’t for us to see,” Kali said reasonably, though her smile was snarky. “I mean, they wouldn’t have stopped us, I’m sure. But I think… we’ve robbed them of all sorts of other varieties of privacy tonight. Let them have this one little moment of sweetness all to themselves.”

“Well… I guess they deserve that. Hope they don’t screw it all up and pussyfoot around, though.”

“You’ve talked about pussies enough for one night.” That was Willow's voice. Raven looked over to see she and Theia had waited on them to catch up. In the somewhat brighter lighting of the hallway, it was really obvious how disheveled all of them were; Raven prayed silently that there wouldn’t be a police raid or they were never going to be able to convince a single soul they hadn’t done what they did.

“Guess I’ll pick up where I left off next time,” she shot back snarkily.

“Droll.”

Shaking her head, Theia looked off toward the room they just removed themselves from. “Can you believe that all really happened? It feels like a dream… and yet I can feel things that tell me it certainly was not.”

“Silky things inside your body?” Kali purred. The other two made a face while Raven facepalmed. “Mm, but I understand. We really should find that Salem and tell her she can’t simply use chemical substances like that without incurring potential health risks; she’s lucky the four of us and all of those girls are in peak health or who knows what could have happened.”

“But she did tell us to be careful what we wished for.” Theia pushed her glasses further up her nose; the vague smear from the splotch of cum was still there, but no longer quite as recognisable. “Something tells me… she knew. She knew what we were to her girls and let this happen anyway.”

Raven felt her lip curling. “What kind of sadistic old bitch…?”

Even as she spoke, she glanced over - and there she was. The dark madam herself. She was standing at the door at the very far end of the hallway, watching them with detached interest - though the prodigious bulge in the front of her dress said it might not have been nearly as detached after all. Noticing Raven was watching, Salem flashed her a wicked, knowing smile, tossed a small package in their direction, then backed through the door and out of sight.

Raven goggled after her as she caught the thing out of the air, dumbstruck for a moment. The bitch absolutely knew. She knew they were related to the dancers, and still spiked their beverages. Why? What could possibly make her want to do something like that to not one, but four families? Sadism? Just wicked curiosity? Gritting her teeth, Raven took a step down the hall, ready to throw that far door open and give her a piece of her mind-

It seemed they wouldn’t get to confront her, after all. A very tall, muscular woman with her dark hair up in a short ponytail strode up to them from another side room with her meaty hands on her hips. “You lost?”

“Hel- lo,” Kali muttered very quietly, clearly still under the influence. Raven elbowed her for good measure. "What's your name?"

"Elm. And I asked you a question."

“We, um…” Willow stumbled. If Raven had to guess, it was probably that the socialite suddenly realised they were about to admit to sleeping with their own children. “We were looking for the bathroom.”

“Well, it’s not back here. Get movin’.”

“Will… you be dancing anytime soon?” Kali asked, eyes raking all over this formidable woman’s tanned physique. Her outfit was white capris and a small jacket over a one-piece bathing suit, all tones of white and grey. Plus the usual clear heels. The seam was a little too prominent on the pants, which meant they were likely tear-away.

“Kali!” Theia hissed, trying to help drag her away. But Elm was already chuckling and relaxing - if only the tiniest bit. Seemed now she had written them off as horny and overeager clientele.

“In about fifteen. Maybe I’ll see you out there.”

“Maybe y-” Another yank. “Maybe another time, when I don’t have these killjoys with me!” Elm’s laughter followed them all the way back out into the club proper. Raven had a feeling Kali's promise wasn't an idle one.

The mothers didn’t say much as they spilled out into the night. Even while dropping by the bar for some glasses of much-needed aphrodisiac-free water before leaving, they kept to their own thoughts, mulling over everything that had transformed a simple night into something that most likely broke the history books.

Was Raven happy about this? She wasn’t sure. Yang seemed fine - and that all but completely convinced her that she was, that nothing was wrong. But she knew that might not be the case. She had crossed a line with her own flesh and blood and could never take that back; now it would be up to both of them to see how they felt in the near future. But seeing that her daughter could so easily joke about it immediately afterward, that it didn’t stop her from expressing her feelings for Kali’s girl, really did warm her heart. So she decided that for now, she would view it as a very bizarre one-time experience that helped strengthen her newfound bond with her estranged offspring and leave it at that.

If in the future, they revisited this… well, she would deal with that when the time came.

"What is that, anyway?"

"Huh?" Raven followed Kali's eyes and saw she was staring at the small package in her hand. "Oh. Forgot about it already. Here…"

Once they had managed to tear the tape holding it closed, they discovered its contents were a note card and… a hard drive. Willow reached in to pluck the card free and read it for the group aloud.

"Huh. 'We always ensure satisfaction'. What on earth…?"

"The footage." When they all looked in her direction, Kali shrugged and explained, "It's the security footage they promised we would get the only copy of. Just ripped the hard drive out and gave it to us. Now I suppose we should be looking into a really powerful magnet to ensure it is destroyed in a way that a hammer can't quite accomplish."

“Club fucking Futopia,” Willow finally grunted as she stuffed the card back into the box and turned to move closer to the curb. Raven stowed the box in the inner pocket of her jacket as she switched it out for her cigarettes. "They truly don't miss a trick, do they?"

“Nope,” Raven sighed as she lit up, figuring she might as well as long as they were waiting for the driver to pull around. Theia edged away slightly from the smoke, as usual.

“I still can’t believe both of my babies are in there. And they seem to be doing fine. That’s… a statistical impossibility.”

“Yep. Pretty wild shit.”

Kali held two fingers out toward Raven, and she passed the cigarette over with no complaint. No reason to worry about swapping spit at this point; they had already shared a lot more than that tonight. “Thanks. I could use one after all those big O’s.”

“I bet,” Raven chortled while her friend smoked. After all they had been through, she was starting to appreciate Kali the most out of all of her POTluck friends; she was no-nonsense, even if she was too playful and lewd sometimes. Better than Priss and Prude.

“I… I think I have to confess to you girls…” When they turned to give her their attention, Theia cleared her throat. “I know it’s very unorthodox, but I keep trying to convince myself I’m not actually in love with Pyrrha. She’s my daughter, it's not right - it shouldn't be possible! Yet I know these feelings, I know how deep and real they are when they are the truth. I feel for her so close to the way I did with Peleus… I think I’m going to tell her. Not that she won’t already know.”

Willow was goggling at her, but luckily, Kali was able to answer first. “I know exactly how you feel. And well, after testing the waters… I could let myself feel that way about Blake, to a lesser degree. But she has Yang and I have Ghira; we can just… be two ships passing in the night. And that’s perfectly fine.”

“Ah. Well… yes, of course.”

“But that doesn’t have to be what happens with you and Pyrrha. Again, I can’t recommend you go putting an announcement in the paper, but you should hold on when you get love, and let go when you give it. Words of wisdom to live by.”

The blushing Theia was just starting to smile gratefully when Willow burst out, “You’re all insane. I certainly can’t delude myself into thinking I could have a relationship with Weiss and Winter - not that kind. Mostly because they deserve far better than their demented old mother who would follow them to a strip club and then fornicate with them! It’s… I can’t believe I let that happen, drugs or no drugs!”

“Hey, don’t discredit them completely,” Kali warned mildly.

“I know, I know. But… I did really enjoy getting to bond with them in that way. Perhaps never again, but for just tonight…” Her grumpy expression faded to one of warmth. “Winter’s talking to me again. I… started to give up hope, after so long…”

It was Kali who wrapped a hand around Willow’s shoulder, and she reached up to grip it hard, lip wobbling. She didn’t cry; just very nearly so. But it was still such a strong emotional display that Raven had to turn away, not wanting to let the emotions have a chance to take root and prompt her own tears.

It was lucky she did. While her head was turned, she saw a thin figure dart from the side of the club several yards along, tearing down the street on rollerblades. Raven’s crimson eyes flicked over toward the street when they were distracted by a city bus pulling away, completely uncaring of the hand waving at it to stop. The figure halted and started gasping for breath with her hands on her knees, then stared up toward the departing bus-

And it was Neon. The girl was Neon, though she now had her hair styled in two cone-shaped buns instead of the big puffy pigtails, and a white jacket thrown on over her top. The rollerblades really should have tipped her off, of course, but she had been too surprised by the whole thing to start guessing if it was someone she had already met.

“Raven, are you listening to this?!” Willow suddenly demanded.

“What? Oh… no, I musta missed it.”

Pointing, she said, “Tell Kali that she has no right to call my Weiss a ‘cute little slut’! I think that word is getting tossed around far too casually this evening for my-”

“Yeah, uh, don’t do that thing. I gotta go.”

“GO?!” Willow asked incredulously as Raven took off jogging over the pavement toward the bus stop. “We’re waiting for Clive! Get back here!”

The shouts quickly faded behind her, and it wasn't too much longer before she sank down on the bench next to Neon. The girl had her head in her hands and looked the picture of someone who couldn’t believe her life was so full of terrible luck. When she felt the weight of another person shifting her seat slightly, she glanced up, then back away- then suddenly jumped and did a double-take.

“MOMMY! I mean, sorry, Mommy- SORRY! Uh… oh God.” She facepalmed hard, letting out a long, floaty groan. “Jesus H. Christ, I’m so dumb, I can’t believe I’m still calling you that out here.”

“Raven,” she provided, just in case.

“R-right! What are you doing here? Catching the bus?”

“Maybe.” At least she didn’t lie. She took out her cigarettes and lit a new one, since Kali still had her first. “Smoke?”

Neon considered, then just pulled her knees up onto the bench. Raven marvelled that she could balance those wheels there without them slipping off, but once she had her arms around her knees that was probably easier. “Thanks, but it’s cool. I don’t… need anything! You’re good!”

“Wasn’t trying to set you up in a new condo, girl. Just offering a cig.”

“I know. Just, um… I get a lot of the pity lines, guys trying to ‘save’ me from working at a strip club. Sometimes a smoke or a ride home is where it starts. Kinda gets old.”

So her joke had been closer to the mark than she thought. As Raven puffed, she thought about what she had debated earlier. “Sorry to kind of bail on you in there.”

“Nah, it’s all good. I, uh…” Still clearly nervous, she said, “Ace explained. Sunbeam’s your kid, huh?”

Caught a little off guard, she finally said, “Yeah. Yeah, she’s my girl. We were just trying to make sure nobody was-”

“Y-you don’t have to tell me or anything. I guess… I knew you were older, but I tried to tell myself it wasn’t a big deal? But I’m literally like, the same age as your ‘little girl’. Obviously you’re not gonna wanna fuck with a baby.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” she told her with a light laugh that didn’t really reach her eyes. “I’m just being dumb.”

“Wait, wait. No… I thought…” Clearing her throat, she pushed herself not to be so guarded with her feelings. Very difficult for the war-hardened bitch she was. “I thought you were just messing around in there. We had a good time. But I didn’t expect you’d be interested after tonight, or… anything.”

Neon’s expression turned melancholy. “Yeah, I get that. Just some waitress in a strip club throwing herself at you; probably thought I was begging for tips.”

“Well, not exactly. I knew… you acted more into it than just that. But out of all your customers, why should I be the one who means something? I don’t really have much goin’ for me.”

“Are you kidding?” she burst out, turning to look at her more directly. “You’re so fucking hot. I mean, like, gotta love a guy who can pound my ass like there’s no tomorrow, but you are so gorgeous. And I liked how you kinda took care of me. Like, it was just for tonight; I’m not completely deluded. Still, hey, it was nice, chilling on your lap and letting you hold me, and… I mean, forget it, I’m just dumb. And gay; dumb and gay.”

Before she even finished, Raven was already shaking her head. “Nah. I felt just like you did. I mean… I’m not good at this stuff anymore. But you didn’t do anything wrong, you didn’t feel anything wrong. It’s fine.”

Neon was quiet for a moment. Then she finally chuckled very softly, eyes sad. “You don’t wanna ask me out.”

“What?”

“I mean, you were gonna. I’m just saying, like, why would you? Cuz it felt nice to have me in your lap? That’s not much of a reason, huh? But like, I’m super flattered you’d even think about it, so like, count this as a win!”

A little disbelieving at how direct this dancer could be, Raven took a breath before responding, “What if I wanna find out for myself?”

“Huh?”

“What if… I was likin’ how close we got, but tried to talk myself outta it? Then I overheard Wi- Ace say you were really into me. So now…”

“Omi gawd,” she blurted, covering her face with both hands. “What a dick! Like, no cap, I hate that bitch, she’s always in everybody’s shit! Doesn’t she know how to mind her own goddamn business?!”

Backpedalling awkwardly, Raven said, “No skin off my nose if you’re not interested. Just putting it out there.” Then she went back to her cigarette, trying not to pout like a stupid lovestruck teenager. And she didn’t, but the desire remained. Why did she have to let herself get caught up in all this bullshit? Her lonely little life was just fine. It made her almost regret trying to reconnect with Yang. Almost.

Then Neon reached over to lay a hand on her forearm. Raven looked up to see a bleary look in her eyes.

“Okay.”

“What? Okay, what?”

“Okay, we can go out!” Slowly, her lips began to split into a smile. “Like, I still don’t think you really wanna date me, but hey, might as well try, right? Could be fun for a while, anyway. And you’re probably a fantastic fuck, like, you’re so buff. I don’t know how you get that kinda definition.”

Raven couldn’t help a rueful smile of her own as she puffed on the cigarette. She was elated - and surprised by her elation. She barely knew Neon! Still, it had been long enough since she found a man who was capable of handling her that she was willing to give her newfound bisexuality another test drive.

“Oh, workin’ out. I trained every day in basic, while I was deployed… just kept it up, I guess. Plus I work with my hands.”

“Nice! I mean, I’m all about it; pick me up and throw me down, right?!” She laughed as if this were a really obvious joke to make, even though the reference was lost on Raven.

"Right, right. I mean, you sure you wanna do this? Could be fun, but you'll probably wind up hating how grumpy I am sometimes."

Neon curled her arms around Raven's bicep and leaned her head against her shoulder. "Nahhhhh. I'll probably love it. I've always wanted to see what it's like with a chick, but none of them ever floated my boat before you came along, Mommy."

Another shiver thanks to that very loaded word. "Mmhh."

"So like, what was the deal with you and your kid and all that? I heard you guys paid for the full package, but obviously you didn't go in there and fuck your own children!"

Raven instantly started hacking up a lung. Naturally, she would be interested in the most forward, filter-free woman in the entire establishment. No way. She absolutely could not tell her about any of that, but she also was too half-drunk and drained from multiple orgasms to come up with a readymade excuse. Her lips flapped a little before she hastily took another drag, even though her throat still burned from before.

“Wait, whoa.” Neon leaned a little closer and squinted. “You didn’t… did you? Oh my GOD.”

“Y-yeah, well, we were all hopped up on some kind of wacky weed your boss gave us!” Raven quickly grunted, hoping somehow it would make it less weird. “Wasn’t supposed to happen!”

“What the FUCK?!” But to her shock, the girl started laughing. “That’s so CRAZY! What’s that like? Keeping it in the family - damn, I thought that was like, not a real thing people did, but you walk in and-”

“SHH!”

Still giggling, she bumped her shoulder against Raven’s. “Hey, it’s none of my business or whatever. But I thought you weren’t here to get laid.”

“I wasn’t! It was just supposed to…” No sense in putting on airs anymore. She heaved a heavy sigh and leaned back against the bench. “We came here to see if Willow’s damn kid worked here. Dumb fucking Willow. We just didn’t expect to find all our kids, and for them to start wavin’ their dicks around while we were tripping on Spanish Fly.”

“Uhh… I mean, it is a strip club…”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Neon frowned at her and laid a hand on her arm. “Hey, I’m not really that grossed out. Like, it’s your business, I guess. You fucked your kid for some reason, and not gonna lie, that’s sus. But you’ve also been really cool to me, and I know Sunbeam’s cool; she gets mad at me because I don’t know when to shut up but I like her. So I mean, you do you, I guess.”

Raven arched an eyebrow as she turned to look at her properly again. “You mean that, huh? You don’t think I’m some kinda monster for gettin’ too familiar with family?”

“What? No way! I mean, if she was actually a kid, then yeah, I’d sell you out in a heartbeat and hope you're in jail for a long time. But she’s a grown ass woman. You’re just a… more grown ass woman,” she giggled, though it was a bit more subdued than usual.

“Ugh. I feel like I oughtta cut my clit off.”

“OW!”

Raven shrugged and fidgeted as she watched her companion for the moment. Neon definitely was quieter now, looking out across the not-so-busy street. She nudged her and said, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing. Just… wondering if I should get outta your way. If you have a thing with Sunbeam, like, I’m nobody to you. Why would I make everything messy? So I should move on.”

“What?” She sat up a little straighter. “I mean, we haven’t even gone out yet. You and me, not me and- that’s…” She took a breath, trying to settle her nerves so she wouldn't get angry purely because she was frustrated. “I’m not datin’ my daughter. I mean, I’m trying to be a mom to her for once in her life - sucking at it, obviously. So I’ll be seein’ her, but not seein’ her. That make sense?”

A little glum and quiet now, she said, “Well sure, but I mean, if you can have your girl as part of your life, and she’s got a huge dick and you already get along and shit, then what’s the point of me?”

Oh no. Neon was sad. The girl was doing a pretty good job of covering it with that carefree attitude, but Raven couldn’t pretend she didn’t notice. So she reached out and pulled her into a firm, gentle hug - and she did stiffen at first, but it didn’t take her long to melt into the embrace, wrapping her arms around Raven.

“You’re cute and you’re fun. Don’t have to have a point beyond that, really, but the rest’s up to you, kiddo. Just… don’t say shit like that about yourself. You ain't pointless - not even close.”

“O-oh,” she breathed, voice finally cracking slightly. “Um, yeah, I guess. Thank you, Mommy.”

This time, there was no teasing tone to the word; just earnest gratitude. That made Raven feel even weirder but she endured - for Neon’s sake. Because she deserved to have someone accept her for who she was the same way she had done for the weird, incestuous old woman who had just wandered into her life.

Raven didn’t know how long they had been hugging when the car horn interrupted their reverie. She jerked away and looked over, expecting a cop car for some reason - well, for good reason. But instead, it was the Schnee family limo, there to pick her up and whisk her back to her normal life.

“What are you DOING?!” Willow called through the barely-rolled-down window.

“Forgive her!” Kali called out. “She had her empathy gland removed!”

Shaking her head with a rueful grin, she turned back to Neon - to see she was extricating herself from the embrace. “Hey- wait, where you goin’?”

“Gotta dip,” she sighed with a shrug and a smile. “I missed my bus, so now I’m skating all the way home. Don’t worry, I do it all the time; it’s how I keep this trap body!”

“But…” Raven suppressed the instinct to call out to her, to chase someone. It left her too vulnerable. Though she did stand and clear her throat, deciding that doing nothing was wrong for this situation; she had to step up. “Alright, I won’t keep ya. But it’s been, uh… I liked meeting you. Helped make tonight fun, and… well, maybe we’ll bump into each other again sometime. Hope so, anyway.”

Neon watched her for a moment, head tilted as if with the weight of her curiosity. “You’re sure I didn’t just annoy the piss outta you?”

“Yeah. You didn’t annoy me.” Raven smiled a little. "You or your little cocktail weenie."

“Huh. Okay. You got a phone?”

“What? Oh… sure.” It took her a couple of tries to fumble it out of her pocket, but she finally got it to happen.

“Cool.” She unlocked it - Raven had never bothered to set a code or anything, all she had to do was swipe - and started tapping away. Finally tired of not knowing what was going on, she angled her head just enough so she could see Neon was putting her number in the contacts.

“Oh.”

“Yup! Here you go.” She handed it back, cheeks aglow. “If you wake up tomorrow and decide, like, I wasn’t the worst mistake ever, then give me a call. You’re a cutie and if you really don’t wanna yeet me off a cliff, then I could hook up with you sometime.”

Taking the phone gingerly, she put it into her pocket with a slight smile. “Alright, awesome. I know… I’ve been pretty weird all night, but I guess you didn’t mind.”

“Nah, not that weird. I’ve met so many creeps who just go ‘lemme get dat dick’ right out of the gate, so like, it’s completely refreshing that you actually talked to me. Plus your whole vibe is…” Instead of finishing the sentence, Neon fanned her face with one hand as she began to skate backward. “WHOO! Muy caliente and shit!”

Finally, Raven cracked a real smile. "Yeah? I still got it, huh?" She had thought similar about Yang, but didn't want to think about that just now.

"Oh yeah. Don't forget me!" Neon blew a kiss, waggled her fingers cheerfully, then turned to speed off down the street.

And Raven watched her go. She cursed herself for having ridden there with Willow so she couldn't offer Neon a ride; it wasn't her place. But the argument that they might drink at the club was convincing enough to get her into a chauffer-driven limousine.

At least all was not lost. Smiling to herself, she fidgeted with her phone in her pocket and crossed the sidewalk to open the door.

"About time," Willow grumbled, scooting to make sure she was out of the way. "Were you setting up your next visit to this gaudy brothel?"

"Sit on it, Malph," she grumbled right back.

"Oh, come on," Kali laughed softly. "Willow would be Malph? She's probably Potsy if she's any of them. Theia's too straight-laced to be anybody but Richie; I'm Malph."

That at least brought back Raven's smile. "And I'm the Fonz? I'm not jumping my bike over any amount of cars or sharks, I don't care what it's for."

"You're talking about a television program," Willow sighed in annoyance as the limo pulled away from the curb. Theia didn't say anything, she just looked vaguely put out. "For a moment, I thought you had both lost your minds."

"And you think we're uncultured," Kali said in an exaggerated imitation of Willow's snooty voice. She even examined her fingernails.

"I told you to stop doing that!"

Theia chuckled and asked, "So why were you talking to Neon? Did you find enough courage to ask to see her again?"

"Uhh…" Raven grimaced, sincerely hoping they couldn't tell she was blushing in the dark interior of the limo.

"Well?" Kali needled.

"Not exactly." She was slightly touched at the way they all looked a little disappointed. Maybe they did genuinely care about her happiness. "Neon really is the one with the balls. She gave me her number."

Instantly, their expressions boomeranged to excited - even Willow seemed pleased. "Thank goodness!" Theia breathed.

"Yeah, at least one of you figured it out," Kali laughed. "I wish you the best."

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled - even though their good humor was catching, and her smile kept growing despite her best efforts to kill it where it sprouted. "So what did I miss?"

"Not much," Willow admitted with a small smile. At least she wasn't a frigid bitch all the time. "We've just been trying to figure out what to do about this whole situation. Mostly, we're going to tell no one but keep seeing where it leads with our daughters. With one exception."

When they all turned to look at Theia, the diminutive ginger flushed scarlet. A moment later, she whispered, "Well… I suppose I did already admit it… but aren't I making a huge mistake?"

"You are in love , girl," Kali laughed. "Whether or not it's a 'good idea' to enter into a relationship like that with Pyrrha is… academic. But love is not an academic topic. I might be the odd one out, but I say if you two really have that kind of connection, then you are the only two who can decide if it's what's best for your lives."

"Really?" she asked in a desperate rush. "I know you certainly won't judge about the… physical aspect, but… this is so much more. I feel bad that I don't feel bad; I'm just so happy…"

As she started to cry, Willow sighed. "That seems to be the feeling du jour. I hate myself, and yet…”

“And yet,” Kali agreed with a small smile and a nod. Raven knew they were all thinking about their little girls and how good it had ended up being, in spite of how reprehensible the idea was.

“So! Are we coming back to that fine establishment again in the near future?”

The four of them all looked between each other, a smarmy, playful smile on all their shared features. Then Raven chuckled as she nodded.

“Fuck no.”

“Agreed,” Theia breathed in relief. “This is already more adventure than I ever expected to have to endure in my entire life! I couldn’t handle anything worse.”

“Pussies,” Kali cackled. For whatever reason, she was looking fondly at her phone when she added, “But I also wouldn’t dream of forcing you to go back; it was… a lot. At least we’ll always have our memories.”

Willow even laughed weakly herself. “Thank God. It was… well, it turned out to be fun, as terrifying as it started. But no more, for the rest of my life.”

“Then I’m glad we agree,” their de facto leader sighed as she leaned back, draping her arms over the back of the leather seat. “These MILFs are done with Club Futopia forever.”

But as Raven Branwen glanced back through the window at the glowing speck in the distance that was the setting for their biggest, most wonderful mistakes, she couldn’t completely suppress the feeling they had spoken too soon. The club would beckon again someday. Whether or not they survived was up to fate and chance - and the mercy of some very zealous, very girthy girls.

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

The End…? (Probably Not)

Stay tuned for BONUS CHAPTER

#the housewives hit club futopia #rwby modern au #rwby smut #rwby fanfiction #rwbyremnants

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heyitsjay03 · 4 years

Text

Fighting for Tomorrow

Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I still haven’t raised enough cash to own AOT, so I... don’t... own... it. For now

Reiner x Fem!Reader, eventual Captain Levi x Fem!Reader, Sasha x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 9.3k!!!

TW: gore/blood/violence/death, adult language/swearing, loss/grief

AN: It is finally time to get into the juicy stuff >:) Or... at least hint towards it lmao. The real juicy stuff happens later BUT it’s still a juicy one today folks!

You can read parts one, two, and three just by tapping the lovely numbers!

I can’t see.

I can’t move.

Move, _________. You have to move.

I try moving my hand. I just want to lift it. Small steps.

It twitches upwards.

Swallowing, I try to open my mouth.

...nothing.

Move, dammit. You have to move.

I can feel myself pushing through the darkness surrounding me. It’s thick and heavy and something is sucking me back down into it. Tendrils wrap around my arms and legs as I push on, dragging me back down.

I have to move. Sasha, Armin, Eren, Mikasa, Reiner- everyone. I need to find them.

Slowly, my tongue lifts and presses up against the back of my lips. They part, sticking together slightly as my tongue pushes through.

“...awake,” I whisper. My eyes peel open. Everything’s blurry and hazy as I stare up at the sky, ceiling, whatever is above me. “Awake.” I say again, firmer and a bit louder.

“_________?”

Footsteps hurry over to me and I feel myself being lifted up. Someone hovers over me. Fingers brush my face, delicate and soft. Blinking slowly, my vision is cleared up.

“Hey there, softie,” I say quietly.

Reiner scoffs, tears pricking the edges of his eyes. I smile softly, letting my eyes slide to the others surrounding me. Connie, Jean, Sasha, Bertholdt, Marco. “Seems… like most… of the gang… is here,” I mutter, sitting up.

“You should take it easy,” Reiner mumbles, rubbing my shoulders. “You lost a lot of blood.”

“I’m alright,” I say gently, running my fingers over the bandages wrapped around my entire torso. My shirt’s gone- cut up to get to my wounds, I’m sure.

“Have you guys seen Armin? Or Eren?” I ask, looking up to them. The group goes silent and rigid. My stomach churns as I look at each of their faces. “...what’s happened?” I ask quietly, my hands shaking at my sides.

“...we’ve only found Armin,” Connie answers, “And he hasn’t said anything.”

“Where is he?” I ask, getting to my feet. The group protests, urging me to sit down. “Where is he?” I ask, more firm with my words as I stand up straight.

Sasha points across the rooftop. Armin’s head is lowered, his fists gripping his hair. I take a step forward and stumble. Reiner catches me before I hit the tiles and I laugh softly. “...for some reason, this reminds me of something,” I mumble as we walk across the roof.

“You scared me,” he says, “They said that you lost too much blood- I thought-”

“I’m here,” I smile. “I’m here and I’m walking and I’m breathing. There’s nothing to worry about right now.”

Reiner nods. “Just… don’t do that again,” he says firmly, “You understand me?”

“Yessir.”

We stop just a few steps away from Armin. I tap Reiner’s forearm- silently telling him I can go on by myself. Slowly, I walk up to Armin. “...Armin.” I call softly, placing my hand on his shoulder.

He looks up at me. Shadows make his eyes look like empty caves, all barren and dark. “..._________,” he whispers. Tears brim in his eyes and his whole body shakes.

“Where’s the rest of your squad, kid?”

The trembling in his body causes the tiles beneath him to clink together. His fists in his hair tighten and I can see his jaw clench. Tears are now pouring down his face- hot and fast. “Armin, are you hurt-”

“Mikasa!”

My eyes turn to the whirring above us and hear footsteps running on the tiles above us. Placing a hand on his shoulder, I smile. “Mikasa’s here. Do you…” I trail off, staring at his eyes.

They’re even wider, filled with fear. Genuine and pure fear.

“Armin, what is wrong?” I ask, kneeling back down in front of him.

“_________! Armin!” Mikasa calls, running to us. “Are you okay?”

“Just a bit of a nasty scratch,” I hum, smiling as I take her into a hug. “But I’m okay.”

Mikasa nods and looks down at Armin. “Armin, are you…?”

Armin starts to choke, heaving every breath like he couldn’t get it in fast enough. I reach out to touch his shoulder but he ducks away, his head snapping up to look us in the eyes. “We… the Cadets of Squad 34… Thomas Wagner, Nick Tius… Millius Zerumiski… Mina Carolina- Eren Yeager! These five carried out their duty and put up a heroic fight!”

“Armin… What are you-” I’m cut off by the look he gives me. I shake my head. “No… No.”

“I… I’m so sorry.”

“No, no,” I shake my head, getting to my feet. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” A wail rips out of my lips, branching from the very pit of my stomach and stemming into every vein inside of me. My hands clutch my chest, gripping the bandages wrapped around me.

Tears choke me at the base of my throat, only allowing mangled sobs out. He’s dead. The kid I looked out for, watched over like he was blood- he’s dead and I didn’t stop it. I broke my promise. I lied to Carla.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

My baby brother is dead.

Another scream shreds through me, echoing around the buildings.

And all at once, everything stops- the pain, the screaming, the crying. It just. Stops.

My eyes are fixated on the sky. Cloudy and grey. Unblinkingly, I stare at the sky.

Wake up.

_________.

Wake. Up.

It’s time to wake up.

--.--

My eyes shoot open.

I’m back in my old house in Shiganshina. Something’s cooking in the oven. It smells like some pastry- I can’t put my finger on the exact one. My hands tremble as I stare at them. There’s no scarring, no bruising. Just perfect, smooth skin and long nails- not bitten or torn off from the constant anxiety.

It’s so warm and soft and gentle- like the days before…

Before what? Nothing’s happened. I’m home and the wedding’s tomorrow. The ceremony is planned out just like it has been. I’ll be married and the debt will be paid off. And a few days after that, I have that appointment to go to with Mister Becker and his family.

Something tugs at the very base of my being, urging me to remember something.

What was it?

Something was supposed to happen today... right?

A knock resounds around the kitchen. I freeze, staring at the door. Another knock. Slowly, I get to my feet and open the door. Three kids. My three kids. Mikasa, all tucked away behind her scarf as she gives me a short- still warm but short- hug. Armin, already eagerly shoving a new book into my hands and opening it to his favorite page. And then-

It’s Eren. His black hair is plastered to his face with blood and sweat and dirt. His body shakes and there’s a gaping hole where one of his eyes is supposed to be.

“You let this happen to me,” he says quietly, his eye wide and unblinking.

“I would… I would never let this happen to you,” I whisper, shaking my head.

Eren looks down at himself. My eyes follow his gaze. Red starts to seep into the middle of his shirt, blossoming outwards and growing in intensity. Slowly, Eren looks back up at me.

“Yes,” he says quietly, “you did.”

Without another word, he crumples to the floor in a puddle of his own blood. I scream, running towards him but something shackles itself around my arms and legs- holding me in place. My body thrashes in its hold. One arm manages to tear out and I reach for him. His eye closes as my fingers graze his forearm.

As I’m pulled back I can hear his voice.

“You let this happen.”

--.--

“..._________!” Sasha’s in front of me, gripping me at the shoulders and shaking me. Her eyebrow furrowed, she stares into my eyes with concern. “_________!”

“I… I’m… I’m here,” I whisper, grabbing her wrists. “I can hear you.”

“We’re gonna take back HQ,” she says, helping me to my feet.

Nodding, I follow her to the edge of the roof in silence. Something grabs my wrist and tugs me back. The familiar warmth and solidity of Reiner’s chest almost brings me to my senses.

Almost.

“_________, you’ve lost too much blood for this,” he says, “If you’re going, you’re letting me carry you.”

A smile creeps onto my face as my arms snake around his neck. Lips brushing together, I can feel his gaze- concerned and harsh. “...I love you,” I whisper, pressing my lips to his.

“...but no.”

And I fall.

The wind flutters through my hair, running up my skin. My fingers click the triggers and I’m shot through the clouds. Various clicks and whirs follow after me. Annie, Bertholdt, Jean, Reiner, Sasha, Connie- they swing and arch at my sides.

“Listen, _________-” he says, arching back upwards. “I need t’tell you something.”

I nod in acknowledgment, shifting a bit in my harness as the leather digs into my side slightly.

It’s not a harsh pain, something I can’t take but… It should hurt a lot more than it does. If they weren’t exaggerating the amount of blood I lost, I should be in much more pain than I am. And I shouldn’t even be able to stand- much less walk and use ODM gear.

Adrenaline. That’s what it is. Adrenaline and delusion. Even as I’m physically here, physically present and seeing and hearing and feeling- I can feel myself slipping.

The grip on my controllers is tight but the grip on my reality is faltering.

Rei groans, “This isn’t something I can just say-”

“If you’re going to say something, just say it!” I snap, rolling my body beneath my bandages. I can’t take this cushioning bullshit.

I can see him sigh and take a deep breath in. “_________, listen… I’m the-”

“Titan!” Connie yells. My eyes dart to my left.

“Three meter!” I call out as my eyes land on the smaller Titan weaving through the alleyway. “Avoid it! We don’t have enough gas!”

The group on my left starts to break off into two different directions- even further left and slipping just behind me. “Make sure no one falls behind,” I call, eyes darting to Reiner beside me.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Reiner, please,” I say just loud enough for him to hear. “I can’t lose anyone else.”

“Then send Jean- or Annie, _________!” He snaps. Frustration is blatant on his face- all trenches in his skin.

“I’m choosing you because I know you’ll make it back to me.”

The trenches leave his face; his eyes soften. Slowly, he nods. “...okay. Just…”

“I know- be safe.”

“And make it back to me.”

“I will… I love you.”

“I love you, too, forest girl.”

--.--

“Brace!” I scream as the wires of my gear launch into either side of the window. Wind whips around me as I curl into myself, waiting to burst through the glass. My body collides with the windowpane- sending shards cutting into the exposed skin around the bandages.

I let out a long huff of breath as I slam against the floor. “Shit…” I mutter, gripping my side. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“_________!” Jean hurries over, helping me to my feet. “You al-”

“Ask me if I’m okay again and I will not hesitate to cut your nose off,” I hiss. My eyes turn to the rest of the windows- all intact. “...are we the-?”

I’m cut off as figures hurl themselves through the windows, shattering glass flying in different directions. Jean and I wrap ourselves around each other to protect each other from the shards. Boots slam against the floorboards as more and more cadets pour inside.

As we pull apart, I give Jean a smile and ruffle his hair. “Thanks, kid.”

“Sure thing, Mom.”

My name is called and I run to its source. Reiner’s arm wrap around me, tucking me into his chest. “You’re okay,” I breathe out as I run my hand up and down his chest. I pull away and look up at him. He’s staring at me with those gorgeous eyes, a small smile on his lips. “You made it back to me,” I whisper, laying my hand against his face and rubbing his cheek with my thumb.

“And you are letting me check your wound,” he says firmly, laying his hand over mine. “That’s an order.”

“I’m higher up than you,” I laugh softly. “Got a whole squad ‘nd everything.”

“I’m going by Top Ten rules,” he teases. Reiner’s hand slides down mine and wraps around my wrist. “Now… Let’s go.”

--.--

We sit in the darkened storage room- away from the prying eyes of the others. Reiner’s hands are soft and gentle as they unwrap the bandages around me. The two of us are silent in waiting. Nervously, I twirl the ring around my finger. It’s covered in blood and I can barely see the glint of the moonstone beneath it but… That’s fixable. I can always clean it.

As the last of the bandage is pulled away, Reiner hands me his jacket. I drape it across my bare chest and wait for his reaction to the wound. “...how is it?” I whisper. The maneuvers I was doing on ODM and bursting through glass should’ve torn it more or something.

Reiner ‘tsk’s his tongue. “...maybe not.”

“‘Maybe not’ what?” I ask, looking slightly over my shoulder. The movement sends a single shock of pain up from the wound. I hiss and go back to facing the wall opposite us.

“I just… I thought something but maybe not,” he mumbles, fingers prodding the sore muscles around my wound.

“What did you think, Rei?” I ask, worriedly spinning my ring around my finger again.

“I thought... maybe it was infected or maybe it was deeper than we thought before.” Reiner says gently, “But it’s not. It’s actually a bit shallow. I think most of the blood we found wasn’t yours.”

“And no signs of infection?” I ask, eyebrows furrowing together.

“No, darling,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the back of my head. “You’re gonna be okay.”

I instantly relax under his touch. There’s no reason he would lie to me- not about this… not about anything. I know I can trust my bumbling mountain man.

Taking a deep inhale in, I close my eyes and feel his fingers slide up along my spine and back down towards the wound. “...you’ll need to stitch me up,” I murmur as my skin tingles in the wakes of his fingers. “See if you can push the edges of the wound together with some pressure.”

“You’ll need to lay down… Here, hand me your jacket.” I grab the blood-stained jacket off the floor and hand it to him. The fabric rustles around a bit for a moment. “Now, lay back,” Reiner says quietly, one hand snaking up to the base of my neck while the other holds me at the base of my back. A goofy smile plays his lips as he hovers over me. Pink dusts his cheeks as the hand at my back reaches up and brushes hair from my face.

“Hi there, Doctor Braun,” I coo, kissing the inside of his palm.

“My favorite patient,” he hums. “...now, c’mon, let’s get you on your side.”

Slowly, I roll over onto my right side and tuck the jacket beneath my head, crossing my arms over my exposed chest. His hand clamps down on the wound and a jolt of pain runs up my spine. “I can’t get the edges to stay together.”

“And the edges- they’re jagged?”

“...yeah.”

“Stitch me up, Doctor Braun.”

“On it, Miss Braus.” Reiner rustles around through the medpack behind me. His fingers ghost my skin, swiping my hair from my neck before placing a kiss there. “This may sting,” he whispers in my ear before pulling away. I take a deep breath in and feel him pierce the top layer of skin, weaving the jagged ends together.

“Not so bad,” I mumble, wincing only slightly as he strikes a particularly sore area.

“Always was a tough one,” Reiner laughs quietly. “Makes no sense as to why you fell for me.”

“I think it was your way with words,” I hum, remembering that night in the woods. “Or maybe your way with kids.”

Reiner scoffs a laugh. “Really? You? Falling for someone based on how good they are with kids?”

I laugh, “Yeah, I know… What a softie I’ve turned out to be.”

“...I mean… Over half the squad calls you ‘Mom’... and the other half calls you ‘Nurse Kickass’.”

“...you’re joking.”

“Nope.”

“Yes, you are- don’t play with me.”

“Ask Marco when we get back,” he laughs, “I’m telling you- I wouldn’t make that up.”

“Alright, fine, I will… Also, what did you want to tell me earlier? Before I sent you to make sure no one gets left behind?”

Reiner’s hands still against my skin. The air around us goes stale. “I just… I don’t know how to say this.”

I turn to look over my shoulder. His eyes are wide, unblinking- gaze turned down towards the floor. “Hey…” I whisper, pressing a hand to his cheek and smiling gently. “Are you okay?”

Slowly, his eyes peel from the floor. As he looks up at me, I can see the haze of unfamiliarity clouding his eyes. Even his skin flinches under my touch.

“...Reiner, are you okay?”

“W-who…?” His eyebrows furrowing, he places his hands on mine shakily.

“Reiner, please- you’re scaring me,” I mumble, my eyes searching his for any trace of warmth, of recognition, of him.

And then all at once, the haze is gone.

A smile crosses his lips. Reiner leans into my touch, “What’s wrong?”

“You were… You were acting strange…” I mutter, “Are you okay? Did you see something out there?”

Reiner coughs a heartless laugh. “...yeah… It wasn’t pretty… I guess I’m just…”

“Tsk…,” I sigh, “After this, we’re going for a swim in our lake, okay? Just me ‘nd you. We need it and you deserve it.”

Reiner hums in appreciation. “Sounds like a plan, Miss Braus.”

“Good… Now, Doc- can you stitch me up before some idiot stumbles in on me half-naked?”

“I’ll get right on that,” he says as I lay back on my side. “How’re you holding up?”

“...Franz is dead.”

“I heard,” Reiner mumbles as he tugs the needle through my skin. “Was he-”

“Yeah,” I whisper, “Bitten in half.”

“Shit…”

“Hanna- she wouldn’t leave him… she just kept… she kept trying to bring him back with CPR. It was… it was like… it was like she couldn’t accept it. That she wouldn’t, Rei.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he says gently, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck.

Tears slide down my face as I remember the fear in her eyes, the frantic way her hands trembled. “...I left her,” I whisper, twirling the ring around my finger as a desperate attempt to bring me back to reality. “I left her behind and there were Titans coming- Reiner, what if she-”

“You can’t think like that.��

“Reiner, she wanted our help and we just-”

“You survived. There wasn’t another choice... You were low on gas, you were severely wounded, she was trying to bring half a dead body back to life- you couldn’t have done anything.”

I’m silent now as I take a deep breath in.

He’s right. Hanna was gone. There was nothing I could do.

“...all done.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, hand snaking over my waist to entwine with his. “For everything.”

“Of course,” he says quietly.

“I mean it, Rei. For everything.”

“I know, darling,” Reiner chuckles as he kisses my neck again. He lowers his voice as he speaks into my ear. “Now… as much as I love seeing you without a bra on, I’m also waiting for some asshole to walk in here and see what’s mine.”

I laugh and sit up, “Possessive today, aren’t we?”

“I thought you died when you collapsed on the roof- I have a right to be overly protective today.”

--.--

“...it’s… fighting… them?” I ask, eyes flicking between Jean, Armin, and Mikasa. “The Titan…? Is fighting the other… Titans.”

“I know it sounds insane,” Jean blurts, “I didn’t believe them either- but I saw it. It was fighting them.”

“You’re sure it’s not like… territory defense or competing for food?”

Armin shakes his head. “It didn’t have an interest in us at all. It was just focused on fighting-”

“And killing,” Mikasa cuts in.

“And killing… the other Titans.”

I laugh in disbelief, running a hand through my hair. Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any weirder. “Armin, do you think we can… ‘use’ it somehow?”

Armin nods hesitantly, “I don’t think it has an interest in us so… maybe?”

I sigh. “We can discuss that later… More urgent matters, right?” I ask, gesturing to the room of nervous Cadets. “You ready to tell us your plan?”

“It’s not as much a plan as it is an idea-” Armin starts.

“It’s more than anyone else has,” I mutter, “So get going.”

Armin nods once, leading the rest of us to a schematic sprawled out on the stone floor. The rest of us huddle around him- smooshing together to peek over his shoulder. I can hear the others murmuring to each other. Doubts. Concerns. But also awe. Awe in how the small, quiet blond kid from Shiganshina could have a strategy so well thought-out.

As he’s explaining, his soft blue eyes dart to me and to Mikasa for reassurance. And we give it to him. Armin continues- still unsteady but quickly gaining confidence. As he finishes, he runs a hand through his hair. “...we’ll be needing the seven most athletic for this to work.”

My lips part, ready to offer up my services.

I’m cut off. Six speak at once, all the same word. ‘No’.

“You’re wounded,” Mikasa states, gesturing down to the bandages that wrap and cover my torso. “Those bandages won’t allow for much movement, either. It doesn’t matter if you are one of those seven- we need this to be perfect.”

“_________,” Armin says quietly, “I… I wanted you in the lift. Even if you weren’t injured. You’re a great leader. These people trust you.”

A chill runs down my spine. People trust me? With their lives? What have I done to deserve that? Being a Squad Leader- it was more of a title. It didn’t mean much but this? These people don’t have to trust me. They just… do?

“...I… Okay… Okay… I can… I can do that.”

“Are we sure this is the way to go?” Armin asks.

“Time’s running out and no one else has a plan,” Marco mumbles as he looks down at the schematic. “Let’s just suck it up and do it.”

--.--

Breathe in. Look down the sights. Breathe out. Breathe in. Adjust angle. Breathe out.

Footsteps march closer.

Thud.

...Thud.

…...Thud.

Heartbeat or footsteps- can’t tell.

Who cares, just focus.

Breathe in. Adjust and tighten grip. Breathe out. “Steady,” I whisper as the others around me whimper. “Wait for my signal.”

Thud.

...Thud.

Rush of wind.

The Titan looks at us, dead-eyed and not blinking. Its breathing floods into the lift and pushes me back just a bit. Adjusting my stance, I tighten my grip on the gun in my hands. “...steady…” I mumble as the Titan approaches.

The man just below me trembles horribly. The gun rattling around in his quaking hands, he lets out a single whimper. “Steady your gun, soldier,” I snap, “You aren’t the only one that’s terrified.”

The man nods, frantically adjusting his grip as the Titan gets even closer to us. “Marco…” I call softly, not taking my eyes off the Titan in front of me. “...what’s your count?”

I can hear him swallow. “...three.”

Another Titan slides into the corners of my vision. “That’s five…”

“One more here,” Marco says, the shudder evident in his voice.

The Titan in front of me looms closer. Its eyes are fixated on me, staring right into me. Shudders are now running rampant through my skin. Taking a deep breath, I steady my hands as my legs fidget beneath me. The Titan’s eye comes to look up the barrel up at me. The lens of its eye scrapes against my gun.

“Seven,” someone hisses next to me.

Something shifts in the darkness. I risk a quick glance to my left at the shape. The last Titan. “...too far,” I mumble, rolling my shoulder back and staring at the Titan just at the end of my gun. “Wait for it to get closer.”

“_________, the others are-”

“If we miss, we’re all screwed,” I snap, “...wait for my signal.”

More footsteps stumbling closer. “...Freckles,” I whisper, not taking my eyes off the Titans in front of me. “How far off?”

“...gun’s length.”

“Ready…,” my hands tighten around my gun. “Fire!” I scream, pulling the trigger back. All at once, guns explode as a single unit and the lift is jostled. The Titans stagger about, clutching their eyes and groaning in pain. Whirs come from the ceiling- glints of blades in the shadows just behind the Titans.

One by one, the bodies fall.

Except two.

“...Sasha and Connie missed!”

My body kicks up- that jolt from earlier back again. My hands are on the last blades I have and I’m over the lift, jumping out to the Titan in front of me. I can see Sasha stumbling backwards, staring up at the Titan before her. “Sasha, get out of there!” I scream, pulling the blades out of their containers. “Run!”

Landing on the Titan’s neck, I plant my foot on the back of its head and lift the blades above my head. I bring them down, slashing through its nape. The slab of skin slides off the Titan in red ooze. The other Titan falls as well, Annie and Mikasa jumping down from its shoulders.

Something moist branches out from my side- a dull pain stemming from my back.

Shit.

Must have popped some stitches.

The Titan’s body shudders beneath me as it collides with the floor. “Sasha,” I mutter, waving her to me. Eyes wide, she takes hesitant steps towards me. “Today!” I snap, clutching my side as my words create more pain from my wound.

Sasha hurries over. “...I… I… I failed!” she screams, hands flying to her hair and tugging. “I failed in front of everybody!”

“Shh,” I mumble, placing my free hand on her shoulder. “You can’t beat yourself up about it. There’ll be other times to prove yourself.”

“But-!”

“I am begging you to please just… Shut the hell up about this for a second,” I wince, the pain steadily becoming more intense. “Just… help me walk. I need more stitches.”

--.--

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Reiner mutters, stitching up my back again.

“What should I have done, huh?” I ask as I tuck my arms tighter around myself. “Let her die?”

“Annie and Mikasa-”

“She’s my sister. It doesn’t matter who else can help- I’m always going to be there for her.”

“I know and that’s what the problem is!” Reiner hisses, his voice raising slightly. Sighing, he lowers his voice back down to a strained mutter. “You put everyone- especially her- above yourself. It’s going to get you killed.”

“...I just…” I shudder- from the cold or from the realisation, I can’t tell. Tears prick my eyes. I shut them and tuck my body into itself even more. “I’m… I’m so terrified of losing her, Reiner… Of losing any of you. I… I already lost Eren. And Hanna. And Franz. And Carla and Grisha and… I’d do anything to keep anything from happening to you.”

The needle clatters into the medkit. I can hear Reiner sigh behind me. Slowly, his warmth gets closer and he snakes his arms around my body, tucking me into him. “I understand,” he says quietly as his head rests on top of mine. “But just… try. Try to be more careful. I… I don’t know what I’d do without you. What any of us would do without you but… I’d lose my mind without you...”

“I can do that.”

Reiner presses his lips to that spot just under my ear. “Thank you.”

A small smile graces my lips as I turn to look at him. He’s got that shine in his eyes again. All gentle and soft as his hand wipes away the tears on my face. “...there,” Reiner hums, “All better.”

“You’re so soft,” I tease, pressing my lips against his.

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffs a laugh, “Pop another stitch and-”

“You’ll punish me?” I finish, my eyes sliding over to him- half hidden beneath my lashes and lids. A coy smile graces my lips as I look up at him.

Reiner’s face turns bright red. Words fail to stumble out past his lips as they open and close. “U-uh…”

“It’s so easy,” I roll my eyes and reach into the medkit, taking out the roll of bandages. “Hurry up and wrap me up before your brain fizzles out.”

--.--

“Mikasa!” I call, launching up onto the roof beside her. Armin, Reiner, Jean, Annie, and Bertholdt follow me. “What’re you-”

“That Titan…” she mumbles, gesturing to the scene before us. The rampaging Titan from earlier- it’s pinned up against a building, thrashing and roaring as other Titans tear into its stomach. Handfuls of flesh are ripped from its torso, shoved into eager mouths. “If we could’ve unraveled the secrets of that Titan… I thought maybe we might find a way to get out of this situation.”

“I agree,” Reiner states from behind me. “If the bastard gets himself torn to shreds, we’ll never learn a thing... let’s drive the Titans around it away and keep it alive.”

“Are you crazy, Reiner?!” Jean snaps, “We finally have a way to get out of this place and you want to risk it all for a Titan?”

“What if there’s a possibility that Titan becomes our ally?” Annie suggests, her words cold as she stares straight at me.

“‘Ally’?! Are you insane?” Jean scoffs and turns to me. “Tell them, Mo- _________! They’re insane!”

I swallow, eyebrows drawn together as I look from the Titan to Reiner. “I… I dunno about this, Rei. It’s… It’s a Titan. Whether or not it’ll attack us is still up in the air.”

“Think about it,” Annie continues, her eyes still on me with a somehow even greater focus. “Wouldn’t that be a more powerful weapon than any cannon we have?” She tilts her head to the Titan as it tries to shove one of the others off of itself.

“...it did manage to fight off more than a few on its own,” I mumble, “Maybe…” I stop and groan, running a hand through my hair. “Maybe we can-”

The Titan roars. The ground beneath us quakes as it pushes through the others eating away at its stomach, running for another Titan walking just in front of HQ. The Titan’s arms are ripped from its body as it continues charging. Its maw opens and, with another loud roar, the rampaging Titan sinks its teeth into the other’s neck.

We all watch in stunned silence as it flips the Titan back and forth, shaking it until the neck rips and the body is flung down the street. It’s like… A wolf breaking its prey’s neck. Deliberate and precise. Not an accident.

Murder.

“...I guess not,” I mumble, watching as the Titan stands up straight and lets out another roar.

“Save it, my ass,” Jean says, chuckling breathlessly.

“Do you think-”

I’m cut off as the Titan falls to the floor. After the collision, it stays still. Not breathing. Not moving. Nothing.

“...guess it doesn’t have anything left,” Jean says, walking to the other side of the roof. “C’mon… haven’t you seen enough?”

I peel my eyes away, starting to turn when Mikasa’s hand shoots out and grabs my arm. I turn to face her. Her eyes are stuck on the Titan, mouth open slightly. “What’s wrong?” I ask, turning back towards the Titan.

And I see it.

In the smoke. The nape of the Titan’s neck. Something stirs in the skin before bursting through. The muscle and bones are quickly evaporating, disappearing around it.

Around him.

--.--

“I just…” I mumble, staring at the plate of untouched bread in front of me. “I don’t understand…”

“He’s still Eren,” Annie states. “Does any of this change that?”

“I guess not?” I groan, running hands through my hair and letting my head hit the table. “I dunno…”

“It’s Eren,” she presses. “The same kid you protect like he’s your kid. You just gonna give that up because he’s a Titan?”

I go quiet. She’s not wrong- even if he is a Titan, he’s still Eren. He’s the same little boy I’ve been looking after. It’s just…

Titans- they’re destructive and ugly and filthy- abominations. How could Eren be like… them? Hunger-crazed, carnivorous beasts that steal and destroy and murder so many of our comrades, so many of our families? And now Eren is one of them? He’s just…

“...I don’t. Know.” I mumble, staring up at Annie. Her eyes are still as they focus on me. I can tell she wants an explanation.

Sighing, I sit back up. “Look... Our whole lives we’ve been taught to hate Titans... Shiganshina and Wall Maria? They taught us to fear them. The last three years, we’ve been taught to fight them… It’s a little hard to come to terms with the fact that my kid is the very thing I was told to fear and to fight.”

Reiner’s hand slides to rest on my lower back. “And no one is expecting you to leave that behind. Annie’s just… feelin’ ya out.”

I nod, giving her a small smile. The corner of her lips curve upwards in return. Turning to Reiner, I press my lips to his cheek. “I should… I should go check on my sister…” I whisper.

Reiner nods and lets me get up. A throbbing pain starts to resound through my head. Another stress headache. Fantastic. My fingers rub circles in my temple as I walk to where Sasha sits.

“...hey…” I say quietly, sitting down beside her. “How ya feelin’?”

Sasha only groans in response. Her hands are clutching her stomach, her face pale. She looks like shit.

And so I tell her.

“You look like shit,” I scoff, “You need’a take one?”

Sasha’s eyes flick over to me as I smirk, staring out at the street. She lets out a breath and nudges me. “...shut up…”

“I’m serious! If you need t’go, go. No judgement here.”

“You’re bein’ gross.”

“I was a doctor’s assistant,” I laugh, “Gross was normal for me.”

The two of us laugh quietly before it quickly dies down into concerned silence. “...but seriously,” I mumble, turning to look at her, “Are you okay?”

She can’t even look at me. Her whole body trembles. Sasha’s eyes brim up with tears and her jaw clenches as she lurches forward. “I… I… I submitted! To a Titan!”

“And?”

Her eyes fly back to me. “Whaddya mean ‘and’?! I submitted to a Titan! I failed my squad- they were countin’ on me and I-!”

“We all survived,” I cut in, “And yeah- we were lucky to all survive but that doesn’t change the fact that we did survive... So why are you so freaked out about the fact that you messed up if everyone still survived?”

“Because my comrades… they can’t trust me anymore and they-”

“They’re better off alive without trust in you than dead with trust in you, first off. And second, look around!” I laugh, gesturing to the bustling street filled with soldiers and cadets alike.

“These people are just happy to be alive… Your little screw up? ...it’s not on their minds right now- it may be later but that just means you have to earn that trust back. Prove yourself or... keep freaking out about it and screw up even worse next time.”

Sasha shoots me a glare. I shrug. She sighs, arms coming undone from around her waist. “...how’re you holdin’ up?”

“...well… I got a horrible headache, my back feels like shit, three’a my kids are bein’ questioned by the Garrison because one of them is a Titan, and…” I trail off, my sarcasm dying on my lips.

Flashes of memories with Hanna and Franz play in my vision. Teaching Hanna how to wrap wounds in the lamplight. Giving Franz advice on how to impress Hanna- and giving him bad advice to mess with him. Talking to Hanna about seeing the outside world and breathing real air. Franz teaching me how to open windows from the outside, so I could sneak in and out whenever. Hanna excitedly asking how Reiner and my first date had gone.

And then Franz, laying in a pool of his own blood and bitten in half. Hanna’s eyes- wide and trembling and filled with betrayal- staring at me as she screams for me to help. Just the look she had… gods… It was like… It was like she was drowning and all she wanted was for someone to snatch her arm and pull her out but…

But I left her there.

“..._________?”

I take a shaky, deep breath in and force a crumbling smile. “...and I led half my squad to their deaths.” My smile trembles and falters as my eyes turn to the sky. Breathing wavering, a cold laugh passes my lips. “I sent them to die and I didn’t even go back to help them.”

“You’re wounded,” Sasha says quietly, her fingers gently resting against the bandages beneath my Cadets jacket.

“That’s not good enough,” I sniff, still staring up at the cloudless sky. “That’s not nearly good enough… I went to HQ- I was just behind Jean. I could’ve-”

“Died,” Sasha states firmly, “You could’ve died. You were bleeding out- you passed out. You needed stitches and couldn’t even walk without Reiner or me or Jean! So don’t say ‘you could’ve saved them’ because…”

Sasha trails off. I turn to face her. Tears are streaming down her face and her fists are clenched in her lap. “B… Because… Because you couldn’t have. Because you would’ve died and left me here. Alone... Again.”

Her words cut into me like blades.

All this time, she told me she blamed Tobias for taking me away. But I never realised… I didn’t even think… I didn’t know she was…

“Sasha, I-” the words get caught in my throat as I look at her. My baby sister. All teary-eyed and breathing raggedly. Because of me. Because I left her alone with our parents, starving and burdened with so much responsibility. Because I left her alone after caring for her and looking out for her for her whole life- just up and left one night.

I wasn’t even able to see her- for three years, she had to imagine us meeting through letters and daydreams.

And I was prepared to do it again. Forever.

What have I done?

I swallow thickly and take Sasha’s hand. Gripping it tightly, I look into her eyes as tears flow from mine. “Sasha, look at me,” I mutter, “...I… promise I’m never gonna leave you again. Ever. I’ll always be with you… by your side.”

Sasha’s eyes widen slightly before her grip around my hand tightens. “I won’t leave you, either. I’ll stay with you.”

Smiling, I wrap my arms around her. My fingers run up and down her back as I press my lips to her temple. “I promise,” I whisper softly.

“I promise, too.”

--.--

“...if I’m going to die in this mass suicide, I want to at least…” I trail off, watching my finger trail down the leather strap across his chest.

Reiner chuckles, his fingers sliding up my neck and lifting my chin. “At least what?”

Heat rushes into my face as I stare up at him. The lamplight flickers onto our bodies as we lean against a stone wall. And it makes him so much more handsome. Chiseled and perfect- like a god, I swear it. He could be a god and I wouldn't be surprised. And yet… Here he is… Staring at me like I’m the one that hung the sun in the sky.

“Why the hell did you choose me?” I blurt. My eyes widen as I realise what I’d said. Even my fingers touch my lips- as if they were shocked by my outburst.

Reiner’s eyebrows furrow over his golden eyes. “Are you kidding?”

Gnawing on the inside of my lower lip, I shake my head. “...you…,” I laugh, rolling my eyes at myself. “I used to always think you had a thing for Christa. Or Annie.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “...you’re serious?”

I scoff, punching his chest slightly. “We’re about to go back into Hell itself and you think I’m joking?”

Reiner shrugs. “Always did have a strange sense of humor.”

“Yeah and you still chose me so why?”

He sighs, looking up towards the ceiling. “I guess it was…,” Reiner trails off and sighs again. “It wasn’t just one thing.”

“I’d hope not.”

He rolls his eyes, hands sliding down my sides. “...I think it was how gentle you could be,” he mumbles, “And then how… fiery you could get a few moments later.”

“...you’re joking.”

Reiner scoffs and shakes his head. “Nope. You wanted seriousness so you’re gettin’ it.”

I groan, laughing as I let my head hit his chest. “I can’t believe you fell for my mood swings.”

“...and your hands… and your lips… and those eyes.”

Blush creeps back into my cheeks and I press my face further into his chest. “...you’re such a sap.”

“Oh, gods-,” Reiner groans and laughs. “And your ass. Gods, your ass.”

I pull away and slap his chest. Giggling slightly, I peek around the corner of the wall. Everyone’s still gathered in the street. Garrison soldiers weave around the perimeter of the group, barking orders at trembling Cadets.

“...your boobs aren’t bad, either.”

“‘Aren’t bad’?” I scoff, shaking my head as I feel his hand rest at the base of my back. “I have excellent boobs, thank you.”

Reiner’s lips press up against my temple. “Then you'll have to remind me after all this.”

“...if we make it,” I whisper.

“When we make it.”

--.--

“I’m spending humanity’s last days with my family!” Someone screams over the clammer of the soldiers. People push past me, hurrying away from the walls. A murmur of panic spread through the crowd as more and more start to pull away.

Deserters.

“...gods,” I mutter, eyes glued on a soldier as she screams and tears out of the crowd with her hands clutching her hair. “Can you believe these people, Sasha?” I scoff, turning to face her.

She’s sheet-white and staring at the floor. Beads of sweat snake out of her hairline and down her face. “Sasha?” I call softly. “You okay?”

She doesn’t even look at me. Her eyes are stuck on the floor, fists clenched at her sides. I place my hand on her shoulder gently. As I touch her, Sasha’s body reacts. Her eyes shoot up from the ground, darting from me to the others leaving. Mouth opening and closing, she turns to the others and looks back at me.

“...let’s go.”

“What?”

“...let’s go. Let’s go home. And see Ma and Pa and go walk in our woods,” she says, grabbing my shoulders. Her eyes are flicking between mine, wild and wide. “Please, _________. Let’s just go.”

I pull away slightly, only for her grip to get tighter. “Don’t you want to see them?” She asks, shaking me slightly. “Don’t you want Reiner to meet them?”

I can’t lie.

It’s tempting- to leave here and go see Mom and Dad. To have Reiner meet them. To be safe and to have a safe life.

But that’s not what I really want.

I want justice. I want eternal peace, not peace for just a few days.

And I gave my heart to this. To the Corps. To fight Titans. I won’t- I can’t- take that back. I want to fight. Gods, I need to fight.

“..._________,” Sasha says quietly. Her eyes are locked on mine.

They look just like Hanna’s.

...I promised her, too. I said I’d never leave her but I can’t… I can’t leave.

“I… I can’t,” I shake my head and pull out of her touch. “Stay with me.”

Sasha shakes her head, sweat and tears streaming down her face. “...I thought you promised.”

“I did!” I snap, “But this?! This is… I’m not abandoning my values-!”

“This is me!” She yells back, “I’m your sister!”

“I know that!” I stop and sigh, running a hand through my hair. “I just… This is what we signed up for. To fight for humanity.”

“To die for it,” she snarls, shaking her head.

“So I’ll die!” I scream, fists clenched as I stare up at her. My muscles twitch and squirm beneath the tightness of my skin. “I will die before rolling over and allowing Mom and Dad to see what it’s like- to have your house destroyed, to have your family torn away from you… To have the last few memories of what life was like when it was simple and young snatched away from you,”

I shake my head. “And I’m not letting Mom or Dad or anyone go through that. Because that… is what I signed up for. To protect them,” I point towards the town. “And to fight them.” I add, pointing towards the wall towering over us.

Sasha opens her mouth, only to be cut off by the voice from the wall.

“Anyone that leaves shall be pardoned!”

...what?

“Those who have lived and seen the horrors of Titans shall not be required to do so again! They must leave!”

The crowd starts to stir even more. More and more soldiers pull away from the group, running down the street away from the wall. Heart beating in my ears, I freeze. Sasha tugs on my sleeve and urges me to go with her. My eyes flick over the crowd.

Where is he? Where is Reiner?

“...As should those who want their parents, siblings, friends, and lovers to witness the same horror!”

I watch as Sasha’s eyes glaze over. It’s the same look the Scouts had when they came back that day, when I took Eren and Armin and Mikasa to go see them return. All wide and open like windows. So clear you can see their memories on their lenses.

“...Ma… Pa…” she whispers, her eyebrows coming together.

The General continues, all background noise as I stare at Sasha. “Love,” I whisper, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes slide up to me, all watery and glazed. “I’ll fight beside you.” My fingers brush a strand of hair out of her face. “I’ll always fight with you.”

Slowly, Sasha’s mouth closes. I can see her swallow as she stands up straight. “...for Ma and Pa,” she whispers, grabbing my wrist.

“For Ma and Pa,” I smile, “and for our future.”

--.--

I press my blade to my lips, breathing in shakily. My back is pressed up against a wall, I stare at the sunlight pouring in from the windows on either side of me. I risk another inhale.

I don’t know where it is.

I don’t know where my squad is.

I don’t know where I can go.

My whole body trembles, shaking the ODM gear at my sides. Footsteps shake the walls and floor beneath me. A quiet scream leaves my lips as the footsteps get closer. My hand slaps over my mouth as I continue to whimper.

If I’m not already whimpering like a brat loud enough, my heartbeat is loud enough to give me away.

I’m going to die alone.

Without seeing the outside world.

A shadow looms, blocking the sunlight streaming in from the windows.

The Abnormal chased me and my squad down. Sasha and the others should be back at the wall. I was just behind them, making sure no one got left behind.

Dammit.

I hiss, looking down at my leg. The fabric of my pants is torn from the impact. The son of a bitch got my wires- dragging me down and slamming me onto the rooftop. I slid off the side and shot myself into the windows upstairs. The Abnormal barely missed grabbing me as I dragged myself downstairs.

I thought it left after that.

Gods, why didn’t it leave?

The shadow keeps moving, footsteps echoing down the street as it walks away.

A breath leaves my lungs.

With trembling fingers, I reach out and touch the largest wound in my thigh. A jagged piece of the tiles from the roof sinks into my skin- a deep red pouring down my leg onto the floor. My fingers tug on it slightly. It squelches, sending jolts of pain through my body.

My head slams up against the wall, my jaw clenching as a hiss of breath snakes through my teeth.

I can’t run with this.

I slam my head against the wall again.

Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit!

I look back down at my leg.

Even if I could somehow fix the wound on my thigh, the area around my ankle is swelling and turning a faint shade of purple.

Goddammit.

Footsteps thud just outside of the building again. Sunlight disappears- drunk up like water and replaced with ink-like darkness. Dust trickles down from the ceiling above me and I can hear the Abnormal shifting through the debris upstairs.

Why does it want me so badly?

There are others outside- and the group on the wall. Why does it keep coming back to find me?

Something drags along the ceiling, more dust following its trail. The Abnormal’s footsteps trudge away once again.

...is it… looking for something?

I shake my head.

Who gives a shit? I just need to get out of here, not debate the intelligence of Titans.

I look around the room I’m in. It looks like an abandoned store- emptied of food and stands overturned. Wood and glass litter the floor around me. Shredded pieces of rope hang from the ceiling across the room.

...I have an idea.

I press up against the wall, pushing myself to my feet with my good leg. My right leg relaxes slightly, letting my foot touch the floor. A small pain shoots up from my ankle, circling the wound on my leg. My eyes flick up to the ropes swinging just across the room.

I have to do this if I want to see them again.

With each lopsided step, pain shoots through my body and my muscles scream at me to stop. My hands reach out and tug the rope down from the ceiling. It comes down and my body falls to the floor with it. Hissing in pain, I grab three pieces of wood and place one piece on either side of my ankle. Tucking the other under the arch of my foot, I tie the rope around my ankle and under my foot, bringing it back up to tie just under my knee.

It’s crude but it’ll do.

The wound in my thigh sends another jolt of searing pain through me. Sighing, I run a hand through my hair. “...think, _________,” I whisper, eyes flicking around the room.

They settle on a ripped banner hanging above the door. Faded, dusty letters spell out ‘F RM R’ MAR T’. It looks like it’s made out of something like a tarp. Not good for bandages.

But good enough for a tourniquet.

I get back to my feet, clutching the area surrounding my weeping gash. I stumble towards the banner and tug on the hanging section. It doesn’t budge. I try again, letting my body lean back as my hand grips it.

It rips and I’m sent backwards, landing on my back. “Gods,” I mutter, rolling onto my side. “When I get back… I’m gonna… take a nice... hot bath… with candles… and tea…,” I continue, wrapping the banner around my leg. “And then- when I’m all healed… I’m gonna… have some mindblowing se-”

Something crashes through the front door. Debris goes flying from the gaping hole, slicing my face as they speed by.

My eyes open. Body frozen, I stare at the giant hand just centimeters from my foot. It starts to move, snaking back out into the street. I scramble backwards and tie the banner around my thigh.

It’s time to go.

I get to my feet, inching around the corner back into the main part of the store. There has to be another exit.

Something passes by the windows.

My eyes catch it as I move further away from the hole in the entrance.

Through the dirt-stained glass, two eyes staring back at me.

My blood stills and everything goes by so fast.

Another hand punches through the walls in front of me. It reaches towards me and grabs my good ankle, pulling me back into the street. Kicking and screaming, I reach down and grab my blade, bringing it down on the fingers wrapped around my body.

The fingers fall away and I fall backward, hitting the cobblestone street with a huff. The Abnormal- its hand steaming from the bleeding stumps- turns to look at me.

My legs push me back, flailing and scraping against the stone as they try to get me the hell out of here. My back scraping against the stone, I scream and tighten my grip on my sword.

If I go down, I’m going down with a fight.

“Get away from me!” I scream as the Abnormal’s other hand grabs me by the torso and lifts me in the air.

Oh gods… this is it, isn’t it?

“Let go!” I yell again, thrashing as the grip around me tightens. “You let me go, now!”

Sasha. Eren. Mikasa, Armin. Reiner. Jean and Connie. Was that the last time I’ll ever see them?

I’m lifted even higher until I’m at eye-level with the Abnormal. My eyes lock with its own. A chill runs down my spine as I do. Such a deep shade of brown they look like black pools of water. And I’m so terrified I’ll drown in them.

“Put me down,” I say quietly.

It’s weird. All those days and nights in the woods with my dad and with Sasha. The animal we were hunting- the deer, the squirrel, whatever- it would always lock eyes with me. I never thought much of it but…

I understand now what it’s like.

To stare at the thing that’s going to kill you. To plead with your eyes.

And to be engulfed in darkness.

...right?

But we stand in the street, staring at each other. It’s frozen. I stare at it and it stares back.

...shouldn’t I be dead already?

Slowly, it lowers me. My feet touch the ground and the hand pulls away. It straightens back up and keeps its eyes on me.

They changed.

Its eyes.

They were… they were brown before, weren’t they?

They shine an almost neon red now- glowing and piercing in the sunlight.

What the hell is going on?

The eyes are glazed over, staring blankly at me. My fingers dance along my blades, ready to fight if this is some… trick? I don’t know- I’m just ready.

But it just sits there. Waiting. Watching.

“...get the hell out of here!” I yell, waving my blade above my head.

It turns around.

Did it just-

Listen?

It walks away from me, leaving me alone in the street.

I shake my head. No, no… It didn’t listen. It’s an Abnormal. Maybe it just…

I don’t need a reason. I’m free and I can get the hell out of here.

----------

You can read parts one, two, and three just by tapping the lovely numbers!

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years

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I’m Always Curious Part Twenty Three

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕 Also some of y’all have asked when they’re gonna frickle-frackle and they definitely did during the last chapter but since this fic is rated T, I can only allude to it 👀 Which is why I mentioned what I mentioned about the gif in the note. Read the notes, y’all! Warnings: Uuuuh none Summary: I had gone stock-still when I’d realized we weren’t on the Enterprise.

I had only had the pleasure of meeting Admiral Cornwell over holograms and viewscreens. Slight though she was, I found her incredibly imposing. Of course, it probably didn’t help that I was severely under prepared. I had expected to beam up to the Enterprise for a holo-conference, and here I was on the Admiral’s personal craft, out of uniform, delinquent because my communicator was off.

I had gone stock-still when I’d realized we weren’t on the Enterprise, but Una poked me hard in the back, spurring me into stepping forward and introducing myself after the Admiral had done the same.

“What-- What can I do for you, Admiral?” I asked, clasping my hands behind my back. “I’m sending you on a special assignment to Larilia.” “What about the attaché? Is it really so bad that I need to be on-world?” “I understand that you believe the situation there is not dire based on the conversation we had earlier this week, but it has grown exponentially worse since we spoke last. I’ll brief you on our way, but I assured the Co-Chancellors that you would be there within the solar day.” My stomach churned uneasily. “Admiral, with respect, I did not negotiate their deescalation alone. Captain Pike and I worked on it together, I’m not adept at steering these conversations alone.” Cornwell arched a critical brow at me. “Well you're not being sent to put a stop to an eighty-year-old conflict this time. And according to the logs retrieved from the initial Larilian negotiations, as well as testimony given by both Pike and the Co-Chancellors, you recommended the de-escalation of Willfall.” “I was trying to divert Spargo from doing anything else dickish.” Where I cringed at my phrasing, Cornwell’s lips quirked in amusement. “It also shows on your records that you attended intensives for Diplomacy, Interspecies Protocol, Leadership - Basic, and Intergalactic Relations the last time you were at the Academy," She added. Why was all of my hard work the last time we had leave coming back to bite me? “...Well there weren’t any intensives on Klingon Poetry,” I joked. No one laughed. “I’ll give you time to beam down to the Enterprise, gather some things. But we need to be quick about this,” Cornwell said. I swallowed thickly, nodding a little. -- Packing was a flurry. I was trying to anticipate what I’d need while on Larilia, which surely couldn’t be much, right? I hadn’t seen anything but my guest quarters and the conference room the last time I’d been there. Una had beamed back down to Novisis after a firm (but warm) pat on the arm.

By the time I was back aboard the Cornwell’s captain’s yacht, my bag beside the chair and sitting in the co-pilot’s seat, nerves were beginning to settle in my stomach. My communicator beeping snapped me out of it, and I frowned. Who-- Oh. “Excuse me,” I muttered, standing and rounding the co-pilot’s seat. I hurried down the hall, back to the cargo room before I flicked it open. “You’re on a ship to Larilia?” Chris sounded almost dazed as his voice crackled through. “I’m sorry,” I groaned, leaning back against the wall, “I meant to comm before but I had to pack fast-- Cornwell promised the Chancellors I’d be there before the day’s out.” There was a moment of quiet on the other end of the communicator, and I waited, heart thumping in my ribs. “...Guess you’re gonna be a little longer than half an hour, then,” He finally said. I cracked a small smile, lowering myself to sit on a bench. “Maybe forty-five minutes,” I conceded. Chris chuckled tiredly. “I’m sorry,” I added. “It’s alright.” “Do you know where the Enterprise is heading to next?” “Our orders from command are sending us to the Pergamum Nebula.” “The Pergamum?” I repeated, brow furrowing as I leaned back against the wall of the ship; that was on the opposite end of the Beta quadrant than Larilia, “Well… As far as we know, there isn’t much out there. You wouldn’t need me anyway.” “And if we’re wrong?” “You’ve got Thaleh and Pal.” “I know.” We went quiet for a few moments. “So,” I peered down the hall to see if Cornwell was coming looking for me, “What do you think you’ll do with your last day of leave?” “Una said that there are a fair few holochambers around. I’ve been meaning to give them a go.” “You ought to. There are some really great flight sims. Could relive some of your test-piloting.” “That a fact?” “Uh-huh. I used to spend hours on them.” “I might just give that a shot, then,” Chris conceded, “Let me know what you get to Larilia.” “Sure. Let me know when you’re headed for the Pergamum?” “I will. We’ll figure out getting you back to the Enterprise.” “I’ve gotta do my job on Larilia first,” I reminded Chris, smiling. “You feel alright about that?” Chris asked. “...Yeah,” I answered after a moment. “Wanna try that again?” I laughed a little bit, tipping my head back, “It’s fine,” I shook my head, though he couldn’t see me, “I’m just-- I think I’ll feel better once I’m there, you know, see what I’m really dealing with.” “If you need me, I’m a call away.” “I know,” I murmured, resting my head back against the wall again, “I should get back to Cornwell.” “Alright. Be careful out there.” “You be careful,” I teased. “Yes ma’am. Pike out.”

I closed my communicator, looking down at it for a few moments. As badly as I wanted to remain in that warm exchange, as badly as I wanted to be back in bed with him, I couldn’t be there. I was on my way to Larilia, with an unfamiliar Admiral to a diplomatically tense situation.

Tag list: @angels-pie ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo ; @how-am-i-serpose-to-know ; @onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles ; @inmyowncorner ; @tardis-23 ; @2manyfandoms-solittletime ; @paintballkid711 ; @katrynec

#I'm Always Curious #captain pike x reader #Captain Pike/Reader #Captain Pike Imagine #Captain Pike x You #Captain Pike/You #christopher pike x reader #christopher pike/reader #christopher pike imagine #Christopher Pike x You #Christopher Pike/You

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spc4eva · 4 years

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Star-Burned: Chapter One

Ok, honestly, I couldn’t stop myself.

So this is my first reader insert. I am hella nervous. There will be no Y/N included, but pet names (and nicknames) given out by Paz that will act as Y/N. Additionally, feel free to imagine yourself in the shoes of the character, but I am going to include a few features that she has - to include very, VERY Merida curly red hair. Honestly, I'm gonna treat her more like an OC, but since it's a reader insert - imagine yourselves how you want QUEEN.

There's gonna be smut. But plot. I promise.

Summary: A Mandalorian crash lands on your planet with severe injuries. You're a moisture farmer who's handy. It's been a long time since you've had company other than your massiff, Jumbles. You take the Mandalorian in because you're a bleeding heart, not realizing what danger you've put yourself in. But the Mandalorian doesn't forget and he's more than willing to repay his debt and protect you.

Word Count: 5,398

Rating: M (18+) explicit sex scenes

| Chapter Two |

Cross Posted on AO3

Someone had crash landed.

Which, for this quiet hovel a planet, was the most action you'd seen in foreverrrr. Maybe ever to be honest. You were used to dealing with Jawas, the occasional drifter, and patching up your moisture farm as best as possible. Was honest work, pretty lonely since your folks had passed away, but it was all you had. Not entirely of course, there was the local wiley massiff that you'd feed scraps and talk to, as if it were a kindred soul, eying you with those beady little eyes before salivating over its disconcertingly large maw. Yeah, you should have been worried that it might've been sizing you up in case you didn't come out with a meal for it, but at least you did have a blaster. Would've been a sad day to have to put Jumbles down - yes, that's what you had named it. For no particular reason other than it had spontaneously fallen out of your mouth and the creature seemed to listen to it.

So when Jumbles trotted up with its spines quivering, baying and leaping around, you half expected it was going to lead you to another rotting womp rat corpse. What you were not expecting was to see smoke peeling from between the canyon walls, dark and sulfuric. Your years patching the farm up, making repairs to any scraps you had laying around - to include droids at times - had made you rather handy. You had to be when the nearest town was a two day ride on your speederbike. Self sufficiency was necessary, because it cost credits to get fuel and to ride out that far. Additionally, you had to plan for it... months ahead.

Jumbles sprinted ahead, wagging a tailless rump before glancing back at you with bounce in his paws. Follow. Come quick.

Now that you had an idea of what it was, your strides lengthened until you were chasing after the massiff. Between the terracotta walls and around a bend, until you were face to face with a crashed starship that had smoke rolling off the main engines. You winced at the carnage, a good portion of the hull smashed inward and splattered open, storage containers and supplies dashing the sand like organs splayed from a chest wound.

Jumbles woofed, approaching the wreckage.

"Not a good idea, boy," you started to say. Even if it was a dangerous wild creature, you still worried about it and this mess was still smoking. Who knew if it was about to explode, there could be fuel leaks in tandem with hanging wires and-

Jumbles went inside the ship.

"Ah!" Your legs churned after it. Even if you had to drag the massiff out of the carnage, you would. Jawas would find it soon enough and have their way with the supplies. Could be a good amount of things to take, but even if you were friends with Jawas, you didn't really like picking the bones of others.

Wires snapped and hissed like tiny snakes around your ear, threatening to singe your barely restricted hair as you ducked. The ship was in an abysmal condition, but the upper echelons of the craft were still intact... Warped, but intact. Your mechanic eyes began discerning the issues, locating the biggest issues first, which was-

Jumbles barked, your neck snapping fast enough that you thought you pulled a muscle. Palming your neck, you trailed forward and saw what... no, who the canine was standing over. Maybe he thought it was a droid. Hell, you thought it was a droid for a moment until you bent down to get a better look and saw that it was breathing. Jumbles yipped again and you blinked, realizing that the massive armored creature was a living person and looked hurt.

"Hey," you started, poking into the man's shoulder where the blue steel didn't meet. "Hey, you need to get up. This ship might go-" Maker, he felt like metal underneath all those layers. Could be a droid then and you were just wasting your time. "C'mon get up!" But you couldn't leave someone here to die on their ship as it leaked fuel and ignited itself. You rarely saw people as it was and what if the last person you ever saw with this guy and you let him become a toasted human inside his armor?

Hooking your fingers into the pauldrons of the armor, you made a valiant attempt at trying to drag the figure out of the ship. He didn't budge. Face down, unconscious, and weighing an absolute ton. Your heart was pumping by now and panic made your hands shake as you desperately glanced around for a solution. Just... anything, a repulsor lift, a speeder... a speeder? Jolting to your feet, you spotted the storage area, having been thrown haphazardly around like a pinball during the crash landing, but still intact.

Now, the issue would be getting this man onto the speeder. You couldn't even drag him, how in the Maker's name were you going to hoist him over? You brought the speeder over and chewed your lip at your plight, hopelessly glancing from bike to fallen warrior.

"Hey," you tried again, hoping that maybe you'd get an answer this time. "Hey, c'mon are you in there?" You knocked on the helmet as if it were a door, your knuckles screaming in immediate protest. That was the least of your worries, because a hand flew out, grabbed your ankle, and ripped you off your feet. Back smacking on the steel floor, you groaned as the metal giant finally stirred. Despite the brazen display of insane speed, the figure was barely able to move more than a few centimeters... but he was alive, so he had that going for him. "Maker-" Scrambling back to your feet, you gave him another look over. "If you can hear me, I'm going to try and get you on your feet. I need your help though, can't pick you up myself."

You positioned yourself around him, finding his arm and slinging it around your shoulders before popping a squat. Now, you weren't very big or very strong. Just strong enough to lift things when you needed to, but you had lifts to do the heavier jobs back on the farm. Your knees quaked as you tested the pressure before sucking in a greedy breath. "Alright, one, two, three-" Exploding upward - or making an attempt to explode upward - you made it about a foot and a half before your calves died on you and your back buckled forward. "AH!" It didn't feel good, the absolute loss of control over your body as you expected to fly face first into the side of the speeder. Unfortunately for you, you didn't have a helmet protecting your face.

But it never came and you chanced opening an eye to look. The man was trying to stand, alleviating a brief amount of pressure as you widen your eyes. Swallowing the huge lump in your throat, you quickly thrust him forward and unceremoniously onto the bike. He grunted, but didn't manage any words before lolling, stomach first, onto the seat.

There would be no comfortable way to ride this bike, you saw that now as you tried to shove him over the tail a little better, squeezing yourself tightly into the thrusters, almost off the seat entirely as you kicked it into gear and backed out through the massive tear in the hull. Jumbles ran along dopily as you very carefully - at almost a gruelling pace - brought the bike through the ravine and up the ride toward your moisture farm. Now came the second issue.

Getting him inside.

"We have to walk again," you warned him, the light of day revealing the color of the man's armor - a deep ocean (or from pictures you’d seen of oceans) blue accent with marigold yellow. Didn't quite strike you when you were panicking, but you saw it now as the haze of strife cleared. A Mandalorian. You had pulled a kriffing Mandalorian from the wreckage of his ship. Fuck. That ship definitely had carbon scarring on it - indicative of a dogfight.

Too fucking late now.

"6PO can you get the lift?" You shouted for the protocol droid, an old rusted out piece of crap that you'd reprogrammed to help around the house. There was too much for you to do with just your own hands. The droid could manage the more mundane tasks, but still made a piss pour cup of caf.

The droid stuttered out - having never learned to talk properly - gave you a blank look, and then started waddling toward the work shed where the lift would be.

"Alright, mando, can you hear me?" you bent over, turning his helmet so that the visor was sort of looking up toward you. "Your ship crashed. Where are you hurt? I can't see that much with all that armor on." Part of you was asking this so you could tend his wounds and then send him packing. "6PO?" you raised your voice irritably, Maker that droid was always slow right when you needed it to be fast.

"W-where?" Finally he spoke, his strangled voice translated through the modulator in his helmet, breathy and in pain.

You told him the planet, pretty backwater and without much activity. There was a spaceport on the other side of the planet, but nowhere near where he was now. Finally, 6PO came over with the lift, cocking its head as you sighed. "About bloody time," you grumble, dragging the lift up and devoting your attention to your charge once again. "Gotta get up again."

This time the Mandalorian was more receptive, putting weight on his legs as you eased him onto the lift, which sagged until his weight. By the way he was cradling his abdomen you were guessing there was some sort of trauma there, but it was hard to tell. You weren't a medic, you weren't even pretending to be as you brought him into your home and slipped him onto your bed since it was the biggest one in the house. But what you did have was bacta, because if something happened to you where you crushed an arm or broke a bone, you needed to be able to fix it. Wasn't often that you had to use the concentrated shots, but it was always better to keep one on hand (even if it cost a fuckton of credits for it). Better to spend the money than die with it in your pocket.

Should you use it on the Mandalorian? That was the question, wincing as he drew rattled breaths in the bed, holding the shot in your palm as you really considered how many credits you had spent on this last year.

"I need to take a look. Can I remove your armor?" Very carefully you approached like a womp rat before a nexu, almost afraid that one of the very many weapons on his belt might soon be tilted toward you. Of course you knew the stories about Mandalorians and having a behemoth one in your modest home didn't make you feel much better. But he was still a person.

"Not... not the helmet," he grunted eventually.

Everything but the helmet. Alright, that could work. You didn't know how armor worked, so removing the armor was a shitshow of fumbling, your fingers catching buckles, pinching flesh, and other times was fastened so tightly that you had to put some weight into getting the kriffing things off. Took the better part of an hour, but you managed to remove the armor - aside from the helmet - and leave the Mandalorian in just his flight suit and boots. Now this next part felt a bit intrusive, but you convinced yourself that this was in for the better health of the mando.

Unbuttoning the top of the flight suit, you started to peel it down, a rush of heat playing across your cheeks as you revealed the muscular and well hewn figure of the ailing man beneath the beskar. You looked a little too long, but doubted the fellow was even conscious enough to catch your ogling. Biting your lips, you pushed the undershirt up and took your medical scanner to the constellation of bruising against his ribcage. Oh, it didn't look good and the scanner came back with a result that made your legs weak, but not in a good way.

"You've got three broken ribs, lacerations to your spleen and kidneys--" ok you didn't know medical stuff, but the device was blinking indicating that he needed treatment immediately or face going sepsis. Your brain nearly exploded with panic as you tripped over your own feet and sprinted for the bacta infusion, which jumped between your nervous, sweaty hands. "Th-this isn't g-gonna feel good," you stammered, uncapping the three pronged syringe. Maker you hated looking at it, the thing looked like a torture device.

Or go sepsis---

You shanked him with the infusion, pushing the plunger down, expecting him to recoil in pain. Actually, he didn't, which made your head turn slowly and a cascade of fiery curls follow as you just stared, in more distress than the severely wounded mando. "I-I will leave you to rest."

---

The infusion had been enough to stave off sepsis and repair the Mandalorian's organs, but he was still recovering from the broken bones. From your readings, the bacta had set them back into place, but he required more time to naturally heal the rest. What that meant was that you had suddenly become his caretaker, which consisted of feeding and helping him over to the fresher because he couldn't take his full weight on his injured side. For a Mandalorian, you didn't think he was that mean or callous. If anything, he was pretty gracious that you'd put the effort into struggling to get him back to your ranch.

But work didn't stop. In fact, you still had to run the farm while periodically checking in on the Mandalorian. Despite it, you tried not to seem bone weary when he asked for him. Wasn't his fault. If anything, it was your fault for helping him in the first place. He did answer a few questions, rumbling in a deep voice that sounded like thunder hinting at lightning on the horizon.

"What's your name?" "You can call me Paz."

"Why did you crash land?" "I was shot down."

"Why though?" "Made some Imps upset."

"So you can't take your helmet off?" "Not in front of anything living."

"Oh so, it's fine if they're dead." "I try not to remove it unless I'm alone."

"Why is it blue?" "Why is what blue?"

"Your armor? Why choose blue?" "It's my favorite color."

“Mine’s gold. Kind of like the yellow there on your armor.” “Your what?” “My favorite color.”

"You think those Imps are going to come looking for you?" "My ship crash landed, so I doubt it."

That ship, you had actually gone back to one afternoon to cordoned off from the Jawas. You knew them and decided that you liked the Mandalorian enough you weren't going to let his belongings get looted. Since it was close to your farm, laying claim to it - by Jawa code - was not difficult. You left them signs in their tongue, warding them off, before finding yourself taken aback that the thing hadn't exploded while you were gone. It needed a lot of work and probably a proper spaceport where it could be hoisted up and repaired from underneath.

Your stupid bleeding heart meant that you went and fixed a few wires in your spare time, soldering them off, and cleaning up the worst of the wreckage. The engines would take more time, but they weren't too dissimilar from what you'd worked on in other vehicles, including your speeder and tractor. Peeling open a few holobooks, you would hum yourself to sleep at night in your childhood bedroom, blinking away sleep as you contemplated how else you might help this... Paz. Being generous was not forlorn to you. You'd helped drifters passing through, offered to lodge them up for the night, fill their bellies before sending them off... This planet wasn't that bad aside from the arid landscape and mischievous Jawas.

Not like you had to worry about raiders or skugs. So your tenderheartedness hadn't come to bite you in the ass yet and aside from wanting a replacement to the bacta shot, you weren't expecting payment. It was called being a good human being and you pride yourself on the fact that you'd done something so nice. Plus, the added bonus was you didn't only have Jumbles to talk to. Now there was a living, breathing person who could hold conversation with you. Course, wasn't really to his will, but you tried not to pester him too much even though you were incredibly curious about what he did. Plus he seemed to get bored being pent up in that room.

"Tranyc," he'd taken to calling you that in some mysterious language you didn't know, as you hummed into the bedroom after knocking, carrying fresh caf and breakfast. Weeks had passed and he was almost well enough. "I think I might be able to walk on my own. Do you mind-"

Mind keeping an eye out for him? You nod, setting the tray down on the nightstand before preparing yourself. Now, you were a master of helping the blue Mandalorian on his feet, keenly aware of where you fit and could support him from without being crumpled like tin foil. He threw his legs over the bed, testing his feet on the floor as you stood guard, poised like a goalie ready to catch the ball in front of a net before the big shot was made. Admittedly, you were a little too silly for your own good, but being on your own for so long had done that. You would talk to yourself, make funny gestures, and do ridiculous things just to chase away the loneliness. Those mannerisms hadn’t really faded in light of your new acquaintance.

Paz pushed off the bed and stood there, towering over you at full height. You relaxed, glad to see that he was able to hold his own, but also sad about that. A pit welled in your belly, the realization that these few weeks had brought you a lot of happiness in having the company of another. And... you kind of liked him. Not in a companionable sort of way. No, you thought he was attractive --- from his voice, to his sturdy body, to the calm manner he'd talk to you. Despite all the stories you'd heard about Mandalorians, he was very warm and patient. Even if there was no face to place with all of that, attraction was more than just appearances, wasn't it? Then again, you'd been shocked by your sudden arousal on the first day of his arrival after just brushing his muscular chest.

Living alone didn't help your touch-starved addled brain.

And then he took a step forward and your spine jolted, darting forward as he winced for his side and wobbled. "Ah-hee!" a strange noise came out of your mouth as you tried to stop the tower of a man from tumbling and honestly, he tried too. But the result was still a mess of limbs, and you tried to take the brunt of the fall, cushioning him so that he didn't hurt his ribs again. Maker, that was your first mistake, thinking that you could take the weight of his body.

All air was crushed from your lungs, vision spinning as you made impact with the carpet. And it wasn't coming afterward, your throat bobbing but the pressure on your ribcage still too much that you were suffocating and unable to see at the same time. "Maker!" it wasn't your voice, but at the sound of it, the air whooshed back into your lungs and you sputtered hoarsely as someone sat you up. Not someone. There was only one other person on this farm. "Tranyc? Hey, can you hear me?"

"Y-yup!" you squeaked, the frayed edges of your vision swimming hazily back into focus as you saw that Paz was sitting on the floor with you, propping your semi-noodley form up. "A-are you ok?"

He sighed, the noise crackling out of his helmet as you trembled, sensation returning to your muscles. "I nearly crushed you. What were you thinking?"

"T-trying t-to he-help," you stammer, taking big gulps of air in between each word. Now you could feel a bit better, rolling your neck as you took account of what had happened. You had jumped to his side before he fell, taking the brunt of the fall directly on top of you. Not very smart at all. Then, he'd turned, picked you up and you were --- you were on his lap. "Wha--" Lancing like wildfire across a dry field of brush, blush erupted up your neck and face. "I-I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? I fell on you," Paz pointed out, his helmet tilting to the side as your ears began buzzing. "Are you certain you're ok? I nearly flattened you."

"C-couldn't b-b-be be-better," your tongue was betraying you, thick and clumsy as you pushed against his chest -- oh Maker, the chest without the armor and only the flight suit. You could feel the grooves of his strong pectoral muscles beneath, the color on your face heightening to as bright a red as your hair. "I should... I should leave you to eat. Breakfast is on the ta-table."

You got to your feet, the weak wobbly limbs shaking, but not because you had been used as a pillowy landing for the Mandalorian. No, a heat radiated around your tummy and laddled lower into the abyss between your legs. A very, infrequently ventured area that had been visited once or twice by drifters, but never for much longer than an evening. Anyways, the Mandalorian wouldn't be interested in anything like that. You were just being hormonal and touch-starved. A little alone time could help you with that, right?

Pushing back your mop of hair, you trotted into the kitchen, glanced at the time and then rolled over onto the couch from behind. You flopped onto the cushions, hair flying everywhere again before you stared blankly at the ceiling, wishing you weren't so terribly horny right now after just grazing a man's chest. How pitiful was that? You were an adult, had been for a good amount of years, and all it took was a deep voice and strong body to make you lose all sense of yourself?

A soft whimper parted your mouth, the ache so desperate and painful that you gripped the fabric of your coveralls over your crotch and pressed into the sensation. Well, he couldn't walk anyways and you were the only one who lived in the house, so there was no risk in just relaxing here, was there? Despite it, you grabbed the nearby blanket and kicked off your overalls, returning a hand to the ailing point between your thighs.

Cheeks flushed, neck cocked against the arm rest, you spun circles on the fabric, your pads picking up the wetness through the material. Maker, you were absolutely dripping, soaking through your panties, and making your fingers tacky. Hooking underneath the textile, you run your fingers along the warmth, licking your lips and closing your eyes -- the first thing coming to mind being Paz. The mystery of the man beneath, the muscular pillars of his body, the golden blonde curls against his broad chest.

Your fingers move up to the bundle of nerves so desperate for attention, nearly screaming at you as you finally lavish attention. His voice, the deep rumble and attentiveness as you talk from where you sit in that chair beside the bed -- your bed. He was sleeping in your bed. Would it smell like him after? Would you ever wash the damn blankets after he left? Probably not. Edging yourself closer, you imagined his thick fingers plunging into your heat, reaching up into your molten core and--

"Tracyn?"

You nearly fell off the couch, clutching onto your sex for dear life as you froze. Your whole body vibrated, muscles stiffening as you fought off the white hot surge of an orgasm. How the fuck had he gotten out of the room?

Tufts of your long hair were sticking out from the couch. No matter how far you slumped down, tried to hide beneath the edge of the blanket, your fucking hair was a blinding curly beacon and fluffing out as an admission of betrayal.

You couldn't hold your breath any longer, the guttural whine hitching as the orgasm pittered into a woefully unsatisfying leap -- like a bird that had flung itself over a cliff with a broken wing, somewhat flying before it plummeted to the earth below. He came around the couch, still clutching his side, and paused. Now, the blanket was in the way, but your coveralls were crumpled on the floor and your face was deliciously flushed.

Oh, stars you looked awful. You absolutely knew how dirty you felt by assuming that he'd not walk out and find you, hand slicked with your own wetness and too embarrassed to move.

"What are you- Did I hurt you?" he asked, reaching down to snare the blanket away.

"N-no!" you gripped it with your free hand, but half of it was pulled away to reveal the outside of your bare leg, and the arm that was still hiding down there.

"Were you...?" his helmet tilted as you both just remained where you were for a beat. Heart racing like fathiers on a track in Canto Bight, your lower lip trembled in shame, waiting for him to throw the blanket back over and return to the room. He was walking. He could just leave and let you wallow in your own miserable chagrin -- drown in it at this point... "Did you finish?"

"W-what?" you squeaked, face managing to deepen another shade of crimson.

"Did you finish, mesh'la?" he repeated, sitting down on the couch by your feet, a tanned palm tracing the top of the foot. His skin was calloused, rough, and sandpapery. The foreign sensation made you shudder in his grasp, but it wasn't unpleasant. In fact, you liked the way his hand slowly coasted your calf in a soothing manner. "All alone on this big farm. Not another soul aside from Jumbles."

True, not another soul. You gave a quivering nod in agreement as his hand reached to graze the back of your knee. Still so gentle, with no insistency or malice.

"Doing everything all on your own. The farm, helping me, taking care of yourself," his hand moved higher, framing the outside of your lower thigh, which caused you to jump. "You haven't once asked me for anything. No repayment or deal despite using that bacta... Couldn't have been cheap. This is just a moisture farm, you're not raking in credits..." He paused, grazing your upper thigh now, daring to push the blanket over a bit more. "For weeks now... Helping me... Did you finish?"

You had, but it hadn't been any good. Your stupid head bobs anyways, sending a few curls tumbling into your face.

"Maybe-" he was drawing his hand back, the warmth of his scratchy fingers receding and you actually whined because of it, his helmet tilting back up to look at you. "Maybe," he was stronger now. "I can repay you a little for all you've done."

Maker, not a word came out of your mouth, you were nearly gnawing on the blanket from how nervous you were, but also from how much your core began aching again.

"Do you want me to, mesh'la? I won't touch you unless you want it. I don't want to overstay my welcome, I just thought that-" he trailed off and you wondered what he had thought. Had you been so obvious about liking him? You didn't think so, you thought you had been your usually, dorky but polite self.

"I want you to," you insisted, releasing the blanket so that the rest could slip off and pool on the floor. You still had your shirt on, but you were nude from the hips down, fronds of hair curling over your mound that matched the drapes. This felt oddly... exposing, even if it was only the lower half. And the fact you couldn't read him didn't help, just a blank mask of a face that was drinking you in and you had no idea if he liked or disliked what he saw. What if you were not at all what he had been hoping for? What if he didn't like what he saw?

He groaned, his palm returning to your leg, sliding up and burning a blistering wake of fire before he curved into your hip and jerked you toward him. "Oh, mesh'la," he moaned. "A desert gemstone hidden in these canyons. How did I get so lucky? Of all the planets and places-" he touched you down there, the very sensation of hands not your own making you jolt and your neck tense. Fuck --- it really had been a long time. "Wh-when the last time... have you ever... ?"

"A fe-ew ye-ears now," you admitted as his fingers scissor up between your folds. "Be-been on m-my ow-own for si-six. N-not ma-any t-t-travelers."

"So wet," he muttered, bringing the slick up and pinning two fingers on your aching bud. Back stiffening, you bucket at the sensation, grounded by his other palm pressing into the hollow of your hip. You were halfway tugged onto his lap as he watched on with fascination, the curve of your left leg hooked against his hip. "What were you thinking of? Before I found you?"

You blush deeper, if that were at all possible, turning your face away from him as he continued to draw lazy circles on your clit. "Y-you."

His groans again, a growing hardness against your leg -- a hardness for you. It's hard to decide what is more startling -- the fact that Paz is here getting you off or that he's aroused by the fact that you'd been playing with yourself while envisioning him. "I'll take care of you. You deserve it mesh'la. After everything you've done for me. I'll make you feel good," he promised, increasing his pace, dipping in his ring and pinkie finger while he continued to oscillate against your bundle of nerves. His fingers stretched you, just as thick and delicious as you'd imagined -- no, it was better than you imagined because it was real. Pumping into you gently, reaching so much deeper than your own small fingers can. "Tight. Maker, you're so tight."

Squirming on the couch, you grabbed onto the cushioned as he pleasured you, coaxing you toward the end of days, making you see stars beneath your closed eyelids. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, a warbled cry strangled completely as your legs locked out and walls tightened to vice grip his fingers.

"Cum on me, mesh'la. Let it all out, come on," he encouraged, his fingers quickening over your clit, your soul absolutely rending as you as ecstasy drowns your senses, your muscles clench, and the scenery of the house falls away. You're floating, physical body panning away from you as you bliss out and disconnect from your breathing and deflating heart rate. You'd never had an orgasm this heart stopping, so utterly piercing that you couldn't even tell where you were anymore.

Finally, you blinked out of your stupor, expecting to be left laying cock legged and messy, but instead you're in bed. Your actual bed, not the twin one that you had been sleeping in the past few weeks. Rolling your head to the side, you didn't see him, but you heard him in the adjoining fresher. You had underwear back on and a pair of pajama bottoms.

What the heck was happening? Did it matter? You just hoped it wasn't ending anytime soon.

#paz vizla x you #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x you #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #paz vizsla x fem!reader #paz vizsla smut #smut with plot #smut with feelings #star-burned

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ithebookhoarder · 3 years

Text

Chapter 19: In Sickness and in Health (The Gangster’s Daughter)

Description: Life for Tommy Shelby was pretty ordinary; all he ever had to worry about were his family, their business and the Blinders. Nothing more, nothing less. Well, that was until his ‘daughter’, a twelve-year-old girl called Evelyn Westmore, was thrown into his life, dredging up feelings and things from the past he’d done very well to forget.

Also available on AO3:

Warnings: Original Character(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Explicit Language, Gangsters, Period Typical Attitudes, Parent Tommy Shelby, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent.

Masterlist:

----

The next morning was when Evie finally learned the definition of a hangover. A real hangover. Like, Arthur after a night at the Garrison hangover.

She had barely been conscious a minute before she realised her head was pounding. It was as if someone was driving a hammer into her skull over and over again.

She didn’t dare open her eyes, knowing instantly the pain was going to be too much.

“Fuck,” she whined, pushing her face into her pillow, wondering if by some miracle she could go back to sleep. Of course, it was clear that wasn’t going to happen. Not when she also currently felt like she was suffering from the worst case of sea sickness known to human kind. It made her stomach churn uneasily, and she could feel her whole body shaking.

Evie groaned, weakly turning over to try and sit up in bed. She knew for a fact that her hair was most likely a hell of mess, and the fact her breath felt like acid left her heavily confused.

She honestly had no idea what the hell had happened to her, or why the hell she felt the way she did. It was as if someone had scrubbed her mind so clean it was raw. There was a huge chunk of time missing from her mind from the night before.

What the hell happened?

With a sigh, she peeled back the covers and began to brave her way down to the kitchen below.

Tommy, needless to say, was waiting in the main room, a paper spread out in front of him and a cup of tea in hand. John was also in the kitchen, Arthur beside him as they scoffed their way through the food in front of them - courtesy of Polly.

The woman truly was an angel.

Her father glanced up as he heard Evie enter, only to start laughing at her miserable face. He was enjoying this; she could tell. If she’d had any strength she’d probably have tried to wipe that smile off his face. But she didn’t. She merely shuffled in, sat in the nearest chair and let out a small moan at the fresh smell of food in the air.

“Why do I have bulls stamping on my brain?”

“Because you thought it was a smart idea to challenge Johnny boy here, to a pissing contest,” Tommy remarked calmly, hiding his grin behind his paper. It was clear from his windswept hair and the smell of soot about him he’d been up sometime, already venturing out into the city. How he got the resilience, Evie could never explain.

“What?”

“Which I won, by the way,” John protested, looking unfairly healthy as he helped himself to his breakfast. The smell alone was enough to make Evie want to empty her stomach everywhere.

“But she gave an admirable attempt,” Arthur heckled. “Worthy of the Shelby name I’d say. Almost drank a bottle of her own before she keeled over. Not bad for a slip of a thing.”

Evie groaned, dropping her face down into her hands. “I hate you all.”

“So you don’t want some hot coffee then?” Polly chuckled, placing the cup down in front of her. “Drink that. It’ll help.”

Evie took her at her word, all but downing the steaming drink, praying it helped in some way. “Why do you all drink so much if this how you feel afterwards?”

“You learn your limits,” her father chided. “You build up an immunity too.”

“Clearly I didn’t inherit your Shelby skill.”

“No, but you have determination,” Tommy chuckled. “Clearly you’ve had good teachers.”

“Or bad influences,” Polly countered, turning to glare at her nephews.

“One day, she’ll look back on this and laugh.”

“Not anytime soon, by the looks of her.”

Evie groaned all over again. “I’m right here. You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not - actually, better yet, why doesn’t everyone whisper?”

“PARDON?”

Evie was half way out of her seat and ready to murder Arthur in a heartbeat. It was only Polly’s warning glare that stopped her. That, and the sudden nausea caused by moving so fast.

“Sit down,” her aunt scoffed, placing a plain piece of buttered toast in front of her. “Eat that and then go back to bed. You’ll feel better. I promise. This lot will be gone soon.”

“Sooner the better,” Evie grumbled half heartedly, even though she didn’t mean it. Still, John clearly got the hint and took that as his cue to excuse himself from the meal.

“Right,” John grinned, donning his cap. “I’m off to the garage. Be back in a bit, yeah? Meeting Lizzie so she can cook.” The others nodded, murmuring various acknowledgements as he slipped out into the street.

“I have business too,” Arthur grinned, rising from his seat and patting Evie’s shoulder as he did so. “Just sleep it off, ey? And don’t drink anything Polly gives you. You’d rather die on your own terms than have one of her miracle cures.”

“Oi!”

Arthur sniggered, leaping out of the doorway as Polly rose to slap the smile off of his face. Still, Evie took his word for it. She loved her aunt but she had a suspicion Arthur knew what he was on about. Especially judging by the slightly queazy look on her father’s face.

“The bloody cheek.”

“Leave him, Pol,” Tommy soothed. “He isn’t worth it."

“I wish I’d let Evie rip his throat out now.”

“Oh, there’s still time. Maybe later.”

Evie chuckled under breath. She’d hold him to that. For now, though, she was content to simply make her way through the plate of buttered toast and endless mugs of coffee Polly put before her. “Thank you,” she beamed, watching as Polly kissed her head before helping herself to her own breakfast.

That was how they stayed for the next half hour or so. Once they’d finished, Evie took the plates and went to wash up as a gesture of her gratitude. It also left her father and Polly alone, both of whom had been shooting odd looks at one another to the point where Evie almost wanted to call them out on it.

If they had something to say, they should just say it… unless they didn’t want her to hear?

So, she gave them space, washing dishes and listening to their soft voices echoing through the open doorway.

Evie didn’t need to hear more than the words ‘talk’ and ‘Lizzie’ to know what this was about. It had only been days since John had told her he was thinking of asking Lizzie to marry him. Evie still didn’t know how she felt about it, even though she wanted John happy and she liked Lizzie well enough. However, by the sounds of it, she didn’t have to worry about it any longer.

“Fuck,” Pol muttered. “You gonna tell him? Or am I?”

“I will.”

“Tell him what?” Evie asked slowly.

She couldn’t help it any longer. Her curiosity was greater than her fear of being scolded for eavesdropping. Besides, it was hardly like this conversation was that private. Else, they’d have taken it to the offices on the other side of the shop floor if they hadn’t want to be overheard.

She simply stepped into the doorway and waited for an answer.

Tommy sighed. He blew out a thin stream of smoke and looked at Pol. The look between them was enough for them to understand one another.

Polly blinked. “That leopards never change their spots.”

Just like that, Evie felt even sicker - something she hadn’t thought possible. It didn’t take a genius to work out what Polly was referring to. Part of her hoped she was wrong though, that her father and aunt hadn’t conspired to break John’s heart.

She watched her father go and turned back towards the stairs. All she wanted now was to crawl into bed and sleep the remainder of the headache away. “Fuck.”

It appeared she wasn’t the only one who would be suffering that day.

--------

Thankfully, after a hot bath, plenty of coffee and a long sleep, Evie felt almost as good as new. She didn’t even mind the fact her father decided to wake her the following morning, ripping open the curtains and letting the morning sunshine burst into the room.

“Rise and shine, Evelyn.”

Evie groaned, pulling the pillow over her head in a vain attempt to block his voice out. “What’s the smile for?”

“Get dressed and you’ll find out.”

As if the shock of seeing her father in her room wasn’t enough to peak her interest, his proposition definitely did the trick. Evie was alert instantly. She couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d woken her up, let alone in such an odd mood.

She tried not to laugh as he tugged the covers off of her, doing his best as she clung on for dear life. Playful Tommy was rare. She half expected a cold bucket of water over the head or for him to be banging pans together instead.

“Dad,” Evie whined, surrendering and sitting upright. “What the hell is going on?”

“As I say, get dressed and come downstairs. We’ve got somewhere to be,” her father explained, gesturing to the dresser in the corner of the room.

To her utter surprise, a dress was already laid out and waiting for her - a beautiful sky blue dress, but one she’d never seen before.

Had he bought it for her?

“Polly picked it our for you so don’t keep her waiting,” he continued, as if sensing her questions. However, he gave her no more opportunities to ask them as he turned and left her to get ready for the absurd day ahead of them.

Evie couldn’t even begin to process it all. What had just happened? Was she still dreaming?

She managed to pry herself from her bed and wander over towards the dress. A single touch of the silky fabric was enough to prove this wasn’t a dream. This was very very real… and very expensive.

“Damn it, Pol,” she sniggered, reminding herself to talk to her aunt about wasting money on her like this. Whilst she absolutely adored the garment in front of her, she also knew they couldn’t really afford it.

Nevertheless, she’d learned a long time ago when to pick a battle with the Shelby family and when to simply go along with their wishes. This was definitely one of those times to go with the latter option. So, she stripped herself of her nightclothes and began to get ready for the day, washing away the sleep from her eyes in the washbasin and tidying her hair as best she could.

A few minutes more and she was ready. One final look in the mirror confirmed as much.

She slipped on her shoes and grabbed her coat, hurrying downstairs as fast as she was able. If her father was as excited as he’d seemed about today then she knew better than to keep him waiting. Even if she was nervous about what lay ahead, Evie couldn’t help but be a little excited too. However, as she hurried into the parlour, she was surprised to see it empty.

Her father was no where to be seen.

“What the hell?” she whispered.

That was when the door opened. That was when the last two people she’d expected to come strolling through together, did just that, grinning ear to ear.

“Polly what on earth is going o-” Evie began. She stopped, however, the moment she laid eyes on the woman next to her. “Ada?”

Like that, she was upon her, hurling herself at her aunt in disbelief. The heavily pregnant woman didn’t mind though, laughing as she cradled her back, peppering kisses to her cheeks.

“Oh my god. I’m glad to see you.”

“I missed you too,” Ada whispered. “It’s been too long.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Tommy invited her,” Polly smirked, visibly touched by the scene. “Family should be together on days like this one. We have a one day truce, thank god. I love a good wedding.”

“A wedding?”

She wasn’t the only one confused. Ada looked as bewildered as she felt. However, Evie finally took a moment to properly examine the moment. It was then she realised they were all dressed impeccably, with fine dresses and coats. Polly even had a hat on, something she saved for church or special occasions. How Evie had missed it was beyond her. Clearly, she was getting rusty.

“Apparently.”

“Whose?”

“I thought it was obvious,” Polly chuckled. “So, shall we go? Otherwise we’ll miss the bloody thing… I never thought I’d see the day John Shelby re-married. To a Lee of all things.”

Wait.

John.

This was John’s wedding?

To a Lee girl?

Not Lizzie?

Evie blinked. She froze and stared at the woman in disbelief. “You’re fucking joking? Right?”

Both Ada and Polly shook their heads. “It was your father’s idea,” Polly explained, adjusting her hat in the mirror before opening the door and ushering them towards the car. “It was a deal proposed by the Lees. Tommy agreed on John’s behalf. Kill two birds with one stone.”

Evie had a suspicion someone would be killed if that really was the case. “Does John know?”

“They’ll have told him by now.”

“Fuck. Now I see why they all left together.”

It took an army to make a Shelby do something they didn’t want to do. John especially. Evie felt bad at the thought. What if he didn’t want this? Why was her family forcing him into this? Was it too late to stop it?

Then again, her father loved his family more than life itself. He wouldn’t do it if he didn’t have John’s approval or hadn’t meticulously thought this whole thing out. Had he even met the bride to be?

Evie sighed. Why were Shelby weddings always so complicated? At least this one wasn’t in secret, a fact she was grateful for as she turned to her aunt and took her hand. The fact she was here beside her already made her feel ten times better.

“Freddie not with you?”

Ada shook her head. “No, but it’s alright. I’m… I’m glad to see everyone.”

“We’re glad to see you too,” Polly hummed, kissing both Ada and Evie’s cheeks. “Now. Stop nattering and get in. We have a wedding to get to and I don’t want to miss this for the world.”

The girls didn’t need to be told twice. They knew an order when they heard it. They had a wedding to get to after all. John’s wedding… God help them all.

---------

The ceremony was brief but pleasant. Even her father and Ada seemed to be getting on, grinning and teasing one another as Jonny completed the ritual, standing in front of the crowd gathered in the shipping yard the Lees currently called home.

Evie had never been to a gypsy wedding before. Not one like this, with so much colour and excitement for what was usually quite a somber ceremony according to the church she was used to. Yes, Esme - her newest relative - was wearing white as she made her way down the aisle, but that was pretty much where the resemblance ended. After all, when had church ever involved the use of a knife before? … or real blood?

Evie had clearly been going to the wrong services.

“That’s the mingling of the two bloods. Where two families become one family,” Jonny explained, grinning ear to ear as Esme and John clasped hands together. The look on their faces said it all. “I now pronounce you, man and wife! Go on John, kiss the bride, will you?”

The cheer was instantaneous, as were the celebrations that followed.

Evie was quick to hug and congratulate John and his new bride. To her relief, he seemed happy - excited even, and who could blame him? Esme was gorgeous. After a few moments of talking, Evie had also deduced that she was wild and almost as much of a true gypsy as Polly. She was also kind, witty and clever - she had to be if Tommy had accepted her to join their family, their side of this now resolved conflict. He wouldn’t have accepted just anyone and yet again, they were all forced to have faith he knew what he was doing.

That didn’t mean Evie had to hold it against Esme. No matter how she’d joined the Shelby clan, she was a Shelby nonetheless and Evie knew better than most how daunting it was to join such a clan as this.

“Congratulations,” she smiled once more, kissing John’s cheek and nodding at his bride. “Be good to one another.”

“We will be.”

“And welcome to the family, Esme.”

“Thank you,” she nodded, grinning as John slid his arm about her waist and held her close.

Evie took that as her cue to leave the newly weds to it. As it was, one of the younger Lee boys had decided to take advantage of the fact she was currently by herself, lingering by the now raging dance floor.

He was quick to stand beside her, taking her hand and shoot her a teasing grin. “Fancy a dance?”

Evie automatically went to decline, but changed her mind. He was handsome and the night was young. “Why not?” she shrugged. It was a night of peace and celebration after all. “Just don’t blame me if I stand on your toes.”

With that, she let him grab her other hand and spin her into the crowd. She didn’t know the steps, if there even were any, nor did she know the song the band were singing. All she knew, was that she felt weightless, skipping about with her partner.

“I’m Antony,” he grinned, bellowing to be heard over the violin and drumbeats.

“Evelyn!”

“Pleasure to meet you, Evelyn Shelby!”

Give it five more minutes, and several broken toes, and she’d see if he still felt that way after all.

------

Just because the light soon disappeared, didn’t mean the celebrations did. In fact, as candles and lanterns were lit, so too were everyones spirits; There were drinks being poured, games of cards being won, and at one point - gunshots and fireworks.

It was official, Evie loved weddings. Particularly, Shelby weddings.

She also liked dancing and was not looking to stop anytime soon. She’d danced with multiple partners, making her way around the floor before finally ending up beside her aunt. For a pregnant woman, Ada was doing rather well at keeping up.

To be honest, if Evie was having fun, then Ada was on a whole other level. It was almost hysterical watching as her aunt spun and cheered and staggered about the place. After weeks, months even, without her, she was glad to have her back and making mischief with her.

“Fuck. I missed dancing!”

“That’s not dancing!”

“It is!” she protested, snagging Evie’s arm and spinning her around and around. “I should know. I taught you, didn’t I?”

Evie erupted into laughter at the memory. “I think we broke Polly’s vase when you tried to dip me!”

“And her clock with that lift!”

Both girls erupted into further laughter, tears trickling down their cheeks. All Evie could see was the memory of her aunt Polly’s face as she’d come into the kitchen to find Ada lifting Evie over her head, surrounded by broken china and glass.

“God! I’ve missed you,” Evie whined, hugging Ada close as her emotions over took her for a second. Her aunt didn’t seem to mind though as she hugged her back tightly.

“I’ve missed you too. We should never go this long without speaking ever again.”

“Fine by me. After the baby’s born, we should go dancing together.”

“Fuck yes!”

As if proving her enthusiasm for the idea, Ada began to twirl all over again, faster and more manically than before. Apparently it was enough to worry her family. Arthur was by their side in an instant.

“Come on, Ada. Enough now. Enough,” he tried, to no avail. He went to reach for her, only for her to spin away faster. “Ada.”

Even Tommy was coming over from his seat, sighing as he approached. That was enough to knock the smile from Evie’s face, especially as she noticed Polly’s concerned expression. What did they expect? Ada had always enjoyed living vicariously and she’d been locked away for weeks.

“Ada,” her father coaxed, addressing her like some spooked animal. “Come on, have a rest. Sit down now.”

“Come and look, Esme! Look at the family you’ve joined!” Ada bellowed in reply. “Come look at the man who runs it, who picks his brother’s wives for them!”

Evie turned, an apology already on her lips as John and Esme were startled from their own celebrations. She could see John was about to say something less than nice to his drunk, pregnant sister.

“He hunts his own sister down like a rat, and tried to kill his own brother-in-law!”

“Ada, that’s enough!” Arthur urged, as both Polly and Tommy closed in.

“Now, he won’t even let me have a fucking dance!-”

“Ada!”

“-Not even at a fucking wedding,” she seethed, glaring at Tommy whilst Polly tried to wrap her arms around her niece and guide her to a chair.

“Sit her down,” John pleaded.

Jesus. Every Shelby was involved now. Only Finn appeared to be missing and he was too busy playing with the Lee children to care. Else, he’d have found it hilarious.

“Calm down, Ada. Calm down.”

However, Ada’s face was anything but calm. In fact, it looked horrified. Polly only had to glance down to know why.

“Holy shit.” She sighed. “Water. Right.”

“Bloody hell Ada,” Arthur groaned. “You do pick your times.”

“Her water’s broke!”

“I didn’t plan this!”

“Right we need to move.”

“Get off me, Tom.”

Everyone erupted into chaos. Evie lost track of who was talking or even in charge of the scene. She simply followed, excitement and panic coursing through her as she took Ada’s hand and squeezed.

“Evie?”

“I’m right here,” she promised, helping towards the waiting car. “I swore it at the beginning and I meant it. You’ll always have me. I’m not going anywhere. Not until we have a screaming baby in your arms.”

-----------

Screaming.

So much screaming.

It was official - Evie was never having a baby.

“It hurts!”

“I know,” Polly cooed, manoeuvring the sheets about as she peered up from her position between Ada’s parted legs. “If it didn’t it wouldn’t be called labour.”

“I want Freddie!”

“Ada-”

“Please!” she sobbed, laying her sweaty head back against Evie’s chest. Despite Polly’s warning Evie had chosen to stay. She wasn’t going anywhere. Even if she knew nothing about delivering a baby, she knew all about loving and supporting her family. She and Ada had been there for each other time and time again.

Nothing had changed, just because Ada was married.

“You can do this,” Evie whispered, kissing her aunt’s damp brow. “Freddie’s on his way. You heard Polly. Dad’s given his word. Freddie can come. He’ll be here any second.”

“So will this little one,” Polly urged as Ada yelped again, a contraction cutting off the conversation. “Keep going. That’s right. Push.”

And to her credit, she did. Ada pushed, screaming and crushing Evie’s hand in the process. Yet, Evie wouldn’t have had it any other way. Her heart was racing as within the span of mere minutes she heard the soft cries of a baby.

Ada’s baby.

“Oh my god,” she whimpered, hugging Ada tightly as she tried to catch her breath. Polly and Esme were doing their part, cleaning and tidying everything below before presenting the baby to its mother. “You did it, Ada. You did it.” “I did,” she giggled, almost deliriously. She looked like she could have slept for weeks.

“Ada. Congratulations, darling. It’s a boy.” Polly’s voice broke them from their celebration as they turned their eyes downward to the cloth wrapped bundle now being passed their way. Soft, tiny fingers poking out were all Evie could see as she gaped at her new cousin.

She wanted to cry. Damn it, Ada and Polly actually were crying, as was the baby. It was a room of crying people. All shedding happy tears though.

“A baby boy,” Ada whispered, staring at the bundle in her arms.

Then they heard it.

The door banging below.

“Ada! Come on! Open up!”

“Freddie,” Ada whimpered, exhausted eyes turning to the hall. She didn’t even have to ask. Polly was already half way down the stairs. The already perfect moment would now be complete, as would their family now that the father had arrived. Just in time too.

He would get to meet his son.

Evie couldn’t have been happier for Ada, grinning as she heard Freddie’s frantic footsteps approaching. The look on his face as he burst into the room was awestruck.

Then again, seeing his wife, beaming ear to ear, cradling their newborn in her arms tended to have that affect on a person.

“It’s a boy, Freddie,” Ada whispered.

Freddie simply blinked. His smile grew as he took the invitation, approaching slowly before perching on the stool next to them. Evie was quick to move aside, allowing him to take her place as he reached over and took the bundle for himself.

One look was all it took.

He was in love.

“It’s a beautiful baby boy,” he gaped, much to everyone’s amusement. Polly even wiped her eyes hastily, as if trying to hide her tears of joy. “There you go. Welcome to the world, son. Welcome to the world.”

His tone was of wonder and of euphoria as he stared down at the boy in his arms. Who knew what he was thinking.

Was that how her father would have looked, had he been there for her birth? Would he have stared at her like she was his entire world? Evie gulped at the thought. It was stupid to think of such things, but she couldn’t help it. A small part was jealous as she witnessed the tender tableau before her.

The truth was, her mother had probably been alone. Who had she had as a friend to hold her hand or assist with the birth? Maybe their neighbours? They were always kind to them, looking out for the small family. Still, it wouldn’t have been like this, that much Evie was sure of. Not full of love and support.

Her mother had had her reasons, Evie knew that. It just didn’t make witnessing what they could have had any less painful.

“What are you going to call him?”

“Karl,” Ada grinned, answering Esme’s question. “After Karl Marx.”

“Who?”

“Bloody hell,” Polly sniggered. “Karl’s a lovely name, Ada.”

A lovely name for a lovely boy. Evie was about to say as much when there was yet another knock at the door. Well, knock probably wasn’t the right word, not when the door rattled under the weight of their visitor’s fist.

“Police! Open up!”

Everyone froze. No one knew what to do.

The Police? The Police were here? Why? How?

“Oh god,” Evie choked, reaching instinctively for Ada and taking her hand. She also watched as Polly was quick to snatch Karl out of his father’s arms and placed him securely back with his mother.

That was all they had time for as the door burst open down below. Everything that followed for the next five minutes was pure pandemonium. Evie didn’t even know where to look. She lost track with the sudden surge of bodies in the house, all arguing and brawling, dragging Freddie outside with them.

Esme was vicious in her attempts to defend her new family. Polly too, was screaming blue murder as she tried and failed to stop them. She was also gone, storming out mere moments after the Police had left.

No one needed to ask to know where she was headed, or whom she intended to see. “I’m gonna set this right,” she’d rambled, kissing a now hysterical Ada as she left.

How? How could anyone make this right? Evie didn’t know how it could have gone wrong. No one knew Freddie was here. Her father had given his word. He wouldn’t have lied to them… not today… not even he was that callous.

Right?

Evie wished she could be sure. However, she had bigger concerns than her father’s integrity to worry about; Ada was already pushing herself up, onto her feet, and trying to reach for her forgotten coat and shoes.

“I need to go home.”

“No,” Esme pleaded, trying to force her to sit back down by the fire. “You just gave birth. You need to rest.”

“What I need is my husband,” Ada sobbed. “I need to be out of this house!”

Evie took that as her cue to intervene, before her aunt did any damage to herself or anyone else in the room. “I’ll take you home, ok?” she offered, reaching for her arm. “We’ll take the car. Save you walking.”

“But-”

Whilst well intentioned, the look Evie passed Esme told her it was hopeless. She’d soon learn Shelby women did only what they wanted, when they wanted. Everyone else could be damned. Right now, Ada cared about one thing and one thing only: keeping herself and her baby safe. That meant getting as far from Shelby territory as possible.

“Tell Polly where we’ve gone if she comes back, ok?” Evie stated, nodding at Esme.

To her credit, Esme didn’t argue. She hurried to gather Ada’s things, helping Evie to assist her aunt and new-born cousin into the back of the waiting car. She even offered to accompany them.

“I know about babies and what needs doing now,” she explained, hopping into the passenger’s seat. “I’ll be more use to you there than sitting on my ass here.”

Evie and Ada were visibly grateful for her company; They were going to need all the help they could get.

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

It was hours before either Evie or Esme returned. In fact, the sun was already beginning to rise as Evie rounded the corner of Watery Lane, the engine humming as it bounced across the cobbles. Whilst she much preferred riding to driving, she’d learned all the same during the war. When there hadn’t been any men to drive anywhere.

Like riding, she loved the solitude and freedom driving offered. She only wished she could turn the car around and drive away from it all… anywhere else… anywhere but here would have been good enough for her.

Her rage had been steadily building with every moment that had passed since Freddie had been taken. By now, she was shaking as she controlled the urge to march inside her house and shoot the lot of them.

Instead, she ground to a halt, slamming the car door harder than necessary and barging her way into Watery Lane.

She’d hardly made it in the door before Polly was upon her, wide eyed and panicked.

“Is she-?”

“She’s alright, Pol,” Evie soothed, glad to see the immediate relief in Polly’s eyes. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t be hurrying back to Ada the moment she could, to check on her for herself. “She’s sleeping. I made sure she ate and kept an eye on her. Esme did too. She’s there to help with feeding and stuff when the baby wakes. Ada just needs sleep.”

Her aunt’s face relaxed at the news, but her skin was still too pale. “She shouldn’t be alone. Not now.”

“She didn’t have much choice,” Evie spat, her eyes following to the guilty party. The one who had made this divide. “Isn’t that right, Dad?”

She hadn’t even acknowledged the others in the room until that point, but now her stare was ice cold as she focused on them.

She snapped.

She grabbed the nearest item - a teapot of all things - and hurled it at his head. Luckily, Tommy dodged, meaning it shattered harmlessly against the wall. But the look of disbelief on his face was accurate enough.

“Oi!” he warned, hurrying to reach her before she could throw something else. Had John not wrapped his arms around her, she probably would have. There were several teacups she had always hated in particular, lying within reach in an open invitation. “Listen to me! I didn’t do this.”

“Then who did?” Evie bellowed.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t-? Bullshit.”

Evie spat at him, breaking free of John and pushing him off of her.

“Pack it in!” he begged, rolling his eyes. “Tommy wouldn’t do this.”

Whether they believed him or not didn’t matter. Evie knew in her heart they’d been betrayed. If not by her father then who was it? Who was she supposed to believe had this kind of information, other than family?

“First you dictated John’s life. Now theirs? Is there anyone you won’t control?”

“Evie-”

“Don’t,” she seethed, panting from the exertion. “Don’t touch me. If you had anything to do with this,” she warned, “then I’ll never speak to you again. Ever.”

“It wasn’t me!”

“Promise?”

“Promise! On your mother’s life.”

A stray tear escaped Evie’s eye as she turned and stormed back across to Polly. Such an oath had to be honoured until it was proven otherwise. But that didn’t mean Evie had to like it. So, she choose to leave her father where he stood: on shaky ground.

16 notes · View notes

slytherinbarnes · 4 years

Text

Sub Rosa [42]

xiii. join or die

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: a lil angst, a lil drugging for safe passage.

Summary: the search for Luna begins, and you and Bellamy share a moment.

a/n: HELLO FRIENDS I AM ALIVE AND I AM BACK! WHICH MEANS SUB ROSA IS BACK TOO! so sorry I missed wednesday’s upload, but ya girl had no power or internet or 4g so there was literally nothing I could do. please read and enjoy number 42! we are nearing the end of s3, can you believe it?! anyways, I love u all you lil moons, and I hope you’re well! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

Bellamy maneuvers the rover through the woods as fast he dares, adjusting course every now and then according to the map in Octavia’s hands.

This ride is one of the quiet ones, everyone tense with the idea that you might fail to find Luna, and fail to save your people. You turn and glance back at Clarke, who is sitting behind Bellamy, next to Jasper, turning the Flame over and over between her fingers. You can't tell what she’s thinking, but you’re sure it’s about Lexa, her expression sad and worried.

Octavia spends much of the ride looking out of the small window on the back door, making sure Bellamy is following her directions. Bellamy sits wrapped up in quiet intensity, eyes locked only on the road around you. Jasper keeps checking the map and worrying over the distance, a fact that he reminds you of now. “It's been an hour since we passed the airplane wreckage. Seeing as we're using a map without any distances, it could be days before we reach the village.”

Bellamy’s gaze never leaves the road as he offers, “At least we know we're going in the right direction.”

“We're running out of daylight. We should stop in the sun and recharge the battery.”

You glance out the window at the rain that has been falling since the funeral last night, the clouds blocking any light from the sun. You mutter, “What sun?”

Clarke backs you up. “We keep going until it dies.”

Octavia turns away from the back, glancing at Clarke and correcting her. “We keep going until we get to Luna.”

Jasper gazes down at the map again, before looking over at Octavia. “What do you think she's gonna say when we show up asking to put an AI in her head?”

“Lincoln said she helps those that are in trouble. She'll help us too.”

Bellamy abruptly slams on the breaks, trying to avoid a fallen tree in your path, and the rover slides along the wet ground for a second before lurching to a stop. The move jostles all of you inside, and you brace yourself against the door the best you can, trying to prevent your head from slamming into the dashboard of the vehicle.

You all gaze out the windshield at the tree, and Jasper mumbles, “You think she can help us find a better map?”

“We'll backtrack. Find somewhere where the trees aren't so-”

Bellamy is cut off by the sound of the back door opening, and you all turn just in time to see Octavia jump from the back, grabbing her pack and heading into the trees. You glance over at him and sigh, “Guess we're going on foot.”

You all bail out after her, grabbing your things, the rain chilling you to the bone as soon as you step out into it. Octavia takes off running and Clarke takes off behind her, the rest of you struggling to catch up until they abruptly stop and Octavia yells, “You hear that?”

You all freeze in place, listening hard over the sound of the rain, and as soon as you hear it, Clarke turns back to meet your gaze. You both answer, “Water.”

Octavia takes off again with Clarke right behind her, and their excitement reaches you, pushing you into movement. You follow behind them, ignoring Bellamy’s cry at your retreating figures, “Eyes sharp, they could be hostile.”

Octavia reaches the top of the hill, and turns to offer you and Clarke a hand as she yells back to her brother, “They're not hostile. Put the guns down!”

You all follow her as she leads you to a rushing river, the water churning harshly within it. She runs alongside the river, until it takes you to the edge of the forest, the woods opening up on a small shoreline and a large body of water. Octavia stops at the edge of the woods, eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of the village. “Where's the village?”

But there’s nothing there, other than a small circle of stacked rocks, and water that stretches far beyond what your eyes can see. Octavia pulls out Lincoln’s notebook, checking the map, and you all crowd around her to see. She lifts her fingers to a drawing near the lower right hand corner of the notebook, the sketch matching the stacked rocks nearby on the shore. She whispers, “No, it can't be.”

She runs over to the rocks, following the line of the shore, and you all follow, stopping when you reach the center of the circle.

“It isn't a village. It's just a bunch of rocks.”

Clarke whispers, “She's gone.”

Jasper looks between you, confused. “What do we do now?”

None of you say anything, just as unsure as the person next to you. Your eyes fall on Bellamy, but his gaze is locked on something behind you. You turn and look, seeing that Octavia has now wandered to the edge of the shore. She drops to her knees, looks up at the sky, and lets out a long, drawn out cry of frustration. You all watch her, feeling the same way.

Octavia returns back to the group shortly, giving out instructions on what you need for a fire. She sends you and Bellamy out for firewood, which Clarke stacks, and her and Jasper work on starting the actual fire. As you and Bellamy return with two armfuls of wood and set them down beside Clarke, you watch Octavia get a spark on her kindling. She carefully transfers it over to Clarke’s wood pile, and blows on the sparks until they grow into a flame. You look down at her, impressed, and Clarke nods in satisfaction. “Good. Okay, it'll be dark soon. We need to talk about what we're gonna do.”

Octavia is the first to answer. “We wait until first light, then we split up and search the shore in both directions.”

“I agree. Lincoln wouldn't have put this spot on the map unless it was important.” Bellamy reaches down to grab Lincoln’s notebook to look over the map, but as his fingers close around it, Octavia knocks it out of his hand and snaps, “Don't touch that!”

You and Bellamy exchange a look before he kneels beside Octavia, whispering, “Come on, O. How long?”

“I don't know, I can't even look at you. Because every time I do, I see Pike putting that gun to Lincoln's head. I hear the gunshot. I see him fall.”

You feel the heavy weight of grief as the memory flashes through your head, but you quickly shake it away as Bellamy counters, “I didn't kill Lincoln.”

“No, but he is dead because of you!”

Bellamy stands, and you can tell he’s upset, his body immediately tense. You all look away from the feuding siblings, trying to pretend you can't hear every word they’re exchanging. “I came to you, but you didn't take my help. If you had just trusted me I'd-”

Bellamy cuts himself off when Octavia breaks a stick and turns away from him, letting him know that she’s no longer interested in the conversation. He turns and walks off sadly, and you stand to follow him, but you pause in your tracks when the fire flashes green. You turn to look at it, Octavia and Clarke doing the same, before you all turn to look at Jasper. “What did you just do?”

“Nothing.” He shrugs, then lifts a small branch. “I just threw these in the fire.”

You see a look of recognition pass over Octavia’s face before she frantically grabs the notebook, and you ask, “What is it?”

She pulls the notebook open to the map, and pulls out a small plant pressed between the pages. She looks at it for a second, before tossing it into the fire, making it glow green again. You all exchange an excited look and laugh, mostly in shock, as Octavia mutters, “Signal fire. He was trying to tell us that this is how we contact Luna.”

Jasper stands from his spot, “I'll get more.”

You glance over at Bellamy, who is now further down the shoreline, looking out at the water, before looking back to your twin. You nod his way and she nods in return, before jogging off behind Jasper, “I’ll help!”

You trudge along the shoreline towards your boyfriend, your boots sinking into the wet sand slightly, making you stumble at times. He doesn’t look up as you approach, just looks out at the water and the darkening sky above it.

You come to a stop beside him, following his gaze to the rapidly setting sun, aided by the cover of the rain clouds. You stand in silence for a long while, until he whispers, “I've lost her.”

If you there were any more space between you, you wouldn't have heard the words. You turn towards him, already shaking your head. “Give her time, Bellamy. There may be blood on your hands, but it's not Lincoln's.”

He turns to look at you now, and you can see tears glinting in his eyes. “Some of it is.”

“You didn't want that to happen, and you tried to stop it.” You glance back at the fire, seeking out Octavia, who is still throwing branches into the fire, before turning back to him. “Octavia will forgive you eventually. The question is, will you forgive yourself?”

“Forgiveness is hard for us.”

You reach out for him, remembering the night that Dax tried to kill him. “If you need forgiveness to forgive yourself, I’ll give that to you. You’re forgiven, Bellamy, for everything. And if I have to tell you this everyday until you forgive yourself and stop feeling guilty, then I will. Because you’ve made mistakes, but that’s not who you are. We’ve all done terrible things for the people that we love, but those things don't define us.”

He nods, and the tears finally spill over and fall down his cheeks. He surprises you by pulling you into a hug, one of the first instances of affection he's allowed himself since you found him chained up in the cave. As his face is buried into the crook of your neck, he whispers, “Tell me about the stars.”

The request sends a rush of emotion running through you, the words unsaid in the last few weeks, despite the chaos that has been warring in Bellamy’s mind. As you pull away to tell him, you sense movement to your left, in the water, and you turn to glance that way. Bellamy does the same, and both of you share a look of alarm at the sight of people coming out of the water, weapons trained on you. Bellamy reaches for his gun and you reach for your knife, but neither of your hands make it to your weapons because you are both pulled to the ground by unseen forces behind you.

They bind and gag you both, before pulling you to your feet and leading you over to the others. A small group runs ahead into the clearing, lifting their weapons towards Octavia, Clarke, and Jasper, and they all scramble to their feet as Octavia lifts her hands in surrender and yells, “No, no, it's okay.”

You and Bellamy are pushed into the clearing and knocked down to your knees, and Clarke looks over at you in panic. You nod your head, letting her know you're okay, just as one of the Grounders steps closer to Octavia. “Chon yu bilaik? Hakom yu don flag raun?”

Who are you? You’re able to translate his first question, but not his second. Luckily, Octavia’s answer gives you a good idea of what he was asking. “Ai laik Okteivia kom Skaikru en ai gaf gouthru klir.”

I am Octavia of the Sky People, and I seek safe passage. That’s when you realize, he must be asking why you signaled. As soon as the Grounder realizes you’re Skaikru, he switches to English. “Skaikru, bringers of death. Why should we give you safe passage?”

“Lincoln. He sent us.”

Even in death, his name holds power, because the man freezes in place before turning to the two Grounders behind you and Bellamy. “Ban emo gaga we, en lus ‘mo meika au.”

You don’t need to translate the words, because they immediately free your hands and pull you both to your feet. You both pull your gags from your mouths, and Bellamy turns to Octavia, quickly whispering, “What's going on?”

“I don't know.”

The man reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small pouch full of vials. He passes one to each of you, the cloudy yellow liquid swirling within the bottle as Clarke asks, “What is that?”

“Safe passage.”

Jasper gives the man an inquisitive look. “What does it do?”

He says nothing, just passes the bottle to Jasper, who takes it. Octavia uncaps the bottle and immediately pours it down her throat as Bellamy protests, “Octavia, wait!”

“I trust Lincoln.”

The Grounder looks at the rest of you. “If only she drinks, only she goes.”

Jasper glances over at the rest of you. “See you on the other side.”

And then he swallows the contents of his bottle. Clarke comes to stand at your side, all of you looking between each other when Ocatvia suddenly drops to the ground, out cold. Jasper mutters, “Oh crap.” And then he is the next to fall.

You, Bellamy, and Clarke all look between each other and your two fallen friends as the Grounder watches you. “Last chance.”

The warning is enough to put you in gear, and you look between your lover and your twin. “Together?”

You uncap your bottle and they follow suit, both whispering, “Together.”

You all swallow the liquid, and you wince slightly as the bitter liquid washes over your tongue and down your throat. You lower yourself to the ground, tugging the other two down with you, all of you staring at each other, waiting to slip under. Clarke is the first to fall back, her eyelids fluttering before she hits the ground. You turn and look at Bellamy, your vision closing in around you, watching as his eyelids flutter too. You both fall back at the same time, reaching out for each other as the world grows black.

You wake up feeling warm.

Your eyelids feel heavy as you pry them open, and you realize the warmth is from being pressed between Clarke and Bellamy’s sleeping bodies. They wake up at the same time, and you can hear Jasper and Octavia stirring nearby.

Your head feels heavy as you look around, trying to gather your bearings, unable to tell anything other than the fact you’re in some sort of rusty metal box, and sunlight is streaming in through various holes around you. You pull yourself to a sitting position, watching as the others do the same, and Bellamy rasps, “Where the hell are we?”

Octavia reaches back, looking for her weapon. “My sword's gone.”

Your eyes fall on the empty holster on your thigh, and you mutter, “My knife is too.”

Clarke digs in her jacket, pulling out the box for the Flame, sliding the lid back to ensure that it’s still there. You see her sag with relief, so you know it’s still in place, and she tucks it back inside her jacket. Octavia starts to pound on the walls, panicking, and a second later, a door at the end of the box swings open, letting in a flood of bright sunlight.

You all have to lift your hands to shield your eyes, watching as a backlit figure walks inside the space, towards you. As she gets closer and you can get a good look at her, her curly hair and smooth skin, fabric billowing around her from the soft breeze that accompanies her, Octavia simply states, “Luna.”

Luna looks between all of you, before her eyes stop on Octavia. “Where’s Lincoln?”

“Lincoln’s dead.”

Clarke adds, “Lincoln said that you would help us.”

Her head cocks to the side. “Did he?”

“Luna, you're the last of your kind. The last nightblood.”

A faraway look passes over her face. “So Lexa is dead as well.”

“Her spirit has chosen you to become the next Commander. Titus entrusted me with the Flame to give to you.”

Luna answers Clarke slowly, as if she’s speaking to a child. “Then he should have told you that I left my conclave, swearing to never kill again.”

“You don't have to kill. To lead is your birthright, how you lead is your choice.”

She reaches into her jacket, pulling out the container for the Flame. She slides the lid back, revealing it to Luna. “I recognize the sacred symbol, but what is that?”

Clarke pulls the Flame out of its container, holding it in her hand, trying to pass it to Luna. “This is the Flame. It holds the spirits of the Commanders. Of Lexa. Will you take it and become the next Commander?”

“No.” She closes Clarke’s fingers over the Flame, before turning and leaving the box, walking out into the bright sunshine.

You all exchange a worried look before running after her, yelling, “Wait!”

As you step out into the sun, you have to blink against it a few times, allowing your eyes to adjust. When they do, you finally see why the sun is so bright. Because it is reflected off the water around you, the ocean, stretching out on all sides of you. You spin in place, looking out at the horizon, searching for land, but finding nothing other than bright blue waves.

You see the others at your side, doing the same, all of you in awe of your surroundings. You glance back at the box that was holding you prisoner, recognizing it as a symbol from the past: a shipping container. Upon further inspection of the structure all around you, you realize where you are. You turn to the others, voice full of awe, as you tell them, “It’s an oil rig. Luna’s clan lives on an oil rig.”

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #the 100 fanfiction #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader

69 notes · View notes

concussed-to-pieces · 4 years

Text

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Four

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Hey there my broskis! I figured I would start backing this up over here as well, cross-posting from my AO3. The chapters got somewhat restructured, so there may be some retreaded ground. Hopefully this will also give me a bit of incentive to actually finish this tale ;-;

Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Paladin Danse, pride of the Brotherhood of Steel, found himself incredibly nervous as he watched Backhand suit up for the first time. She gave him no real reason to be, of course, climbing into her power armor with veteran grace. She had forgone their jumpsuit in favor of her Vault suit so she was short a few of the securing clips, but it was her call. She did put on a hood though, stating that she wasn’t a fan of getting chunks of her hair ripped out by the helmet.

Danse barely hid his grin at the way she shook herself all over once she was in the suit, metal clanking loudly as pieces fell into place. “What do you think, Knight Vega?” He asked cautiously.

“I think I’m gonna’ have a lot of fun with this.” Backhand sounded like she was smiling.

Proctor Ingram sighed. “Yeah yeah, just try not to fuck up your actuators. Damn kids and your Prydwen jumps.”

Danse flipped his helmet and smoothly clicked it into place in his suit’s gorget, then blinked in confusion at the HUD. “Proctor, did you change the-”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry Danse. The yellow HUD makes me queasy.” Ingram apologized. Danse sighed, bringing up the internal options screen and readjusting the HUD color back to the warm amber he preferred. “Don’t be that way, Paladin, I have to look at a million of these helmets every day.”

“What? How do you change the…oh, I got it.” Backhand paused, obviously fiddling with the HUD in her own suit. “ Purple .” She said firmly.

Danse tried to mask his chuckle by clearing his throat, but the look Ingram shot him told him the attempt was unsuccessful. “Well, uh, I think it’s about time we begin our maneuvers.” He said hurriedly.

“You two take as long as you need. Bring Brandis back safe. Backhand, remember what I told you.” Ingram said sternly, saluting the two of them.

Backhand nodded solemnly, returning the salute. “Ad Victoriam, Proctor Ingram.” Danse saluted as well, curious about Ingram's mysterious statement.

Maxson hadn’t cleared them for vertibird transport to a general location. Danse could see why to an extent, the elder probably needed all the aerial support he could get while they sent out scouts to find more clues about the Institute. The reason Maxson had given was...still logical, but a little different.

“ With you on foot, there will be less warning for Brandis. ” Arthur had said in his briefing, arms behind his back as always. “ If he is alive, we don’t know what shape he’ll be in mentally. Use extreme caution. If you fear for your lives, do not hesitate to kill him .” He glared at Danse when he said that and Danse had swallowed hard.

Do not hesitate. Do not hesitate like you did with Cutler, Paladin.

Danse let Backhand set a pace she was comfortable with once they were on the ground and he followed her lead, the paladin silent as they marched. His thoughts churned and roiled, scratching to escape his head in a frenzy of uncertainty. He almost didn’t notice Backhand skipping , aside from how ridiculously loud her sabatons were on the remains of the road. “Knight Vega, what on earth .”

“ Finally! I’ve been trying to ask you something for five minutes. Figured I would opt for a different approach.” She laughed, knuckling his shoulder with her gauntlet. “After we find Paladin Brandis, I have-”

“ If we find Paladin Brandis.” Danse corrected her grimly.

Backhand paused, tilting her head to the side. “Sir?”

“I said, if we find Brandis. There’s no guarantee that he’s alive after all this time. It’s entirely possible that we’re simply on a remains retrieval detail.” Danse warned her.

Backhand shook her head after a moment. “Paladin, you really think I don’t know that? Damn.” She grumbled. “You’d rather find him alive, right? That’s the hope?” Danse nodded reluctantly. Brandis was an incredibly skilled survivalist, a respected squadron leader and free thinker of the highest caliber. He would be a phenomenal asset to the Brotherhood if…

If he was still alive.

“I apologize for my pessimistic outlook.” Danse said after a moment. “I have not had…exceptional luck when it comes to search and rescue details.”

“Hey, first time for everything.” He was almost positive that she was grinning at him under her helmet. “You’ve got me here. You can't say the homeland doesn't take care of their own; I’m practically the embodiment of a four-leaf clover.”

“We can hope.” Danse murmured, half to himself. “You certainly came through previously.”

“Maybe I’m your good luck charm.”

The notion that he had outlived his men because of luck left a bitter taste in Danse’s mouth and he fell silent once more. She at least seemed to understand not to poke him and simply carried on down the road at an easily-managed pace.

Danse couldn’t decide whether he personally wanted to find Brandis or not. On the one hand, of course he was a valuable asset. But on the other, Brandis had a penchant for… noticing things. Arthur had butted heads with the older man numerous times, usually over what Maxson labeled ‘ trivial issues ’.

And Danse still hadn’t forgotten the nasty rumors he’d heard about the real reason for Recon Squadron Artemis being sent to scout the Commonwealth…

“ Brandis overreaches, connects well with young recruits. The elder fears his influence. ”

“ Brandis was sent to die and you know it! ”

The atmosphere in the barracks had turned ugly fast when Arthur had dropped the tidbit that the Brotherhood lost contact with Squadron Artemis almost immediately upon their arrival in the Commonwealth.

Aspirants got into shouting matches; several scuffles broke out. Danse ended up wading through the midst of a pitched fistfight, throwing one knight over his shoulder and pinning the other beneath his arm momentarily.

“ This is behavior unbecoming of a soldier, knights! ” He had shouted over the ruckus. “ Stop the childish antics, use your brains and think! ” His voice carried in the cramped bunk room, and due to his massive height he was easily visible through the swirling hurricane of young men and women. “ Paladin Brandis would be ashamed of every one of you for losing sight of what is truly important in the Brotherhood! Your brothers and sisters are all you have in the world, you cannot set into them at the first sign of trouble! ”

“ Elder Maxson wanted Paladin Brandis to die! ” One brave scribe cried. “ That’s why he sent him! ”

“ He is the elder and you will show him the respect he deserves! ” Danse admonished the young man. “ I will not tolerate this insubordination! ”

“ You’re only on his side because you’re fucking him! ” The knight over his shoulder yelled furiously, beating his fists against Danse’s shoulder blade.

The entirety of the barracks went dead quiet and Danse was certain his face must have been an ungodly shade of purple from his insinuation. “ What did you just say, Knight? ”

The young man slowed to a stop, and then suddenly burst into tears. Danse set him down on his feet and the knight stood in front of him, his shoulders hunched. “ I ap-pologize, Palad-d-din Danse sir. ” He had hiccupped, saluting him without looking up.

“ Knight, you cannot lash out with harsh words or actions just because something isn’t going your way. ” Danse had known he was letting him off too easy, but the young knight was still weeping. “ You will go to Knight-Captain Cade in the morning. He is…far better at managing situations like these than I am. I fear I will do nothing but cause more damage. ”

“ Paladin Danse, have they told you anything about Paladin Brandis? Anything at all? ” A tiny squire had piped up from the door, her hair already braided for sleep.

Danse shook his head regretfully. “ All I know is what you’ve already been told. I have no other information at this time .”

“ Will…will you tell us if you learn anything new? ” She had continued hesitantly, glancing up at the aspirant holding her hand for confirmation. Murmuring rippled through the crowd, all eyes on Danse as he stood there silent, stoic. The knight's words echoed in his mind over and over, on his side, on his side...

“ You have my word as a Brotherhood paladin, Squire .”

It had been a simple thing to promise then. Almost negligibly simple. Danse shook his head, trying to disperse the memories. This rumination would get him nowhere. Thank goodness he had Knight Vega with him, at least she could keep an eye out for threats while he wandered down his proverbial Memory Lane.

Speaking of Knight Vega…

Danse swung his head around, perplexed. She had just been here, it wasn’t exactly like she could sneak in all that plating. He spotted her finally as he came over the next rise in the road. She appeared to be speaking to a civilian, the ragged-looking man gesturing wildly off to the side.

“…idea how many of them there are in the facility?” Backhand was asking.

“Usually we only see three to five, b-but sometimes there’s loads more! Hounds too! Please, General, if you can spare the men, we really need your help.” The man begged.

General? Danse thought with confusion. Why is he calling her General?

“Currently, we’re focusing our efforts on rebuilding Fort Independence…er, I mean, the Castle. We have mobile cells but they are few and far between. I will send word that-” Backhand was cut off by the man shaking his head rapidly.

“I knew it, I knew you would refuse! That’s how it always is! Say anything about super mutants and everyone pusses out!” The man shook his fist in Backhand’s impassive face. “I had hoped that you of all people would be able to help us, but I guess I was wrong.” He spat, “should have known better than to trust things would be alright with your group back on the playing field.”

Danse had heard enough, practically stomping down the road towards the man yelling at his charge. “Civilian, I suggest you watch your tone.” He uttered the words curtly, his eyes narrowed behind his visor.

The man huffed out a breath at him, obviously unimpressed. “So you have a bodyguard now, General?”

“Hardly.” Backhand replied dryly.

Danse got the feeling he had just been insulted, but he brushed it off. “Where is the nest of vermin?” He queried instead, making a considerable effort to try and keep his tone neutral. “You mentioned super mutants.”

“They’re in Weston. The pre-war water treatment plant. Are… you’re going to help?” The man asked uncertainly.

“There are other, more important matters that currently take priority, civilian. When we have the time, we will investigate. Now I would advise you to be on your way before I have to assist you in making the choice of departure.” Danse ordered, his laser rifle not quite at the ready, but high enough that to the untrained eye it would look like he was poised to strike.

The man grumbled something under his breath and then announced, “I'd better see you later, General. Oberland would be a good spot to spiff up, y'know, but it's so close to Weston no one will touch it.”

“Thank you, Rob. Hey, tell your wife I said hello. I hope your little one is doing well.” Backhand's face had gone strangely soft.

For some reason, the man's shoulders relaxed. “She is, she's doing really good. Her mom is teachin' her everything that she knows. She's wicked smart for her age.” He bragged.

“No doubt there. Take care of yourself, and tell people to steer clear until we can get to Weston.” Backhand gave the man a nod in reply to the tip of his hat. “Thanks for helping.” She said out of the corner of her mouth to Danse, who straightened up.

“I don’t recall doing anything helpful, Knight Vega.” He was startled when she knocked her pauldron against his own in a playful gesture.

“Rob loves to puff himself up and talk about how no one’s ever done anything for him ever. It’s harmless, but he’ll drag on for ages unless you nip it in the bud.” She grinned at him. “Thanks for going on the offensive and heading him off at the pass. Lots of people are like him out here. When the Minutemen disbanded, it meant that the simple people had to take the full load of raider assaults and super mutant attacks. Still plenty of distrust for me and my crew.”

“Your ‘crew’?” Danse echoed, thoroughly confused. Why did he call her General? What is she talking about?

Backhand just nodded, putting her helmet back on. “You want to take point? You were kind of spacing out back there, Paladin. Might help you get centered. Run down the list of objectives?” She suggested.

“I must be worse than I thought if you noticed my thousand-yard stare.” Danse realized it was a sarcastic quip the second after the words left his mouth, and he felt horribly awkward.

That is, until there was an undignified guffaw from the knight. She clunked her whole forearm against his own in a makeshift nudge, still snickering. “How incredibly rude of you, Paladin! I’ve got bad eyesight, but it’s still there. Kinda’. Didn’t need twenty-twenty to see that you were deep in thought.”

“Knight Vega, I appreciate your attention to detail. And…” Danse hesitated, biting his lip. “And thank you for… humoring my wandering mind.”

“I’m not humoring anything. You’ve been through a lot recently and you’ve had no breathing room at all. You’re allowed to have time to process.” When she put it like that ...

Danse made a noise of acknowledgement. Backhand cleared her throat, stepping aside and letting him go ahead of her.

…

Do me a favor and try to limit his time on board this rustbucket, okay? I don't know what's going on and it's not my place to ask. But Danse is a good man and he shouldn't be getting jerked around, Elder or no.

Ingram's words spurred Backhand to speak up. “Paladin Danse, sir?” When he turned to face her, she wished that he wasn’t wearing his helmet. “Sir, I meant what I said before.”

“What?”

“When I said I was available if you needed someone to talk to. I’m serious. It’ll all be off the record, just between us. The only person I report to is you.” Backhand said firmly.

“And the elder.” Danse reminded her, his voice soft.

“Nope.” Backhand grinned, trying to lighten his obviously bleak mood. “Just you. You might answer to the elder, but I don’t.”

“That’s tantamount to treason, Knight.”

“He’s not a sovereign , for--”

“Elder Maxson’s orders are law in this chapter of the Brotherhood, Knight Vega.” Danse sounded like he was repeating the words from memory, clearly used to defending the young elder. “I suggest you cease your needlessly-flippant flouting of Brotherhood practices.”

Backhand knew she was on thin ice. “Of course, sir. I apologize. Forgive me my misstep.” She saluted loosely. “My previous military experiences were a little more lax. When out on patrol we spoke to each other and our superiors as equals. It was common to poke fun at the higher-ups, as well.”

“I wouldn’t begrudge you a joke or two, but not at the expense of the elder.” Danse replied tersely. “He works exceptionally hard to keep everything in line and running smoothly. I will not tolerate any disrespect towards him.”

“Understood, Paladin.” Her suspicion only thickened at Danse’s rebuke. What is Maxson doing to him? Normally, soldiers gleefully took the opportunity to joke about their superiors. But Danse was acting like it was a cardinal sin to so much as tease about the young elder. No wonder Ingram had told her to take her time. Danse was obviously kept on an incredibly short leash. The longer he was away from Maxson, the better.

They continued down the road in silence for nearly an hour before Danse finally sighed heavily. “Knight Vega, I must apologize again. You were not raised in the Brotherhood, it’s not as if you would know any better. My shortness of temper is unrelated to you.”

“It’s okay. You’re worried about Brandis, right?” Backhand asked. “A little scared, a little hopeful?”

“For being a relic of a bygone age, you are remarkably perceptive.” Backhand sputtered a little at being called a relic but Danse carried on gravely, “I am concerned about the state Brandis may be in when we reach him. If he is mentally compromised…dealing with a man who was Brotherhood but has lost his senses is not a task I take lightly.” He turned to her. “The younger recruits love Brandis. He was a father figure to a multitude of them.”

“You promised them you would bring him back.” She realized. Danse didn’t reply immediately, instead focusing his attention to the road in front of them.

“I could not feasibly promise anything.” He muttered, quiet enough that she was unsure if she was supposed to hear him. “It was not within my power to promise.”

“But you did anyway. On that slim hope that Brandis was alive and in one piece.” Backhand’s heart ached as she thought of the paladin trying to decide what to tell a group of young recruits, a group of kids .

“…Yes, Knight. I did.” Danse admitted after a long pause. “My motivations are irrelevant. I lied to children, because I…I cannot see the little ones as soldiers. They begged for news of Brandis and I had nothing to offer them except my word as a paladin.”

“That’s okay.” Backhand said simply. “We’re going to find him.”

“I suppose we are.” Danse sounded a little surprised. His shoulders straightened up. “One way or another.”

The asphalt had dissolved into nothing a mile back, leaving the two of them to continue trekking through the wilderness on the remains of the flattened earth that was once a road. Backhand was used to the booby-trapped state of everything at this point, so she didn’t even bat an eyelash when she heard the warning beep of a landmine.

Danse on the other hand stopped dead, helmet swinging rapidly back and forth as he tried to locate the mine before it went off. “Wait, Knight Vega-!” He began as she knelt, trailing off when he realized that she had deactivated the landmine. “Oh.”

“Impromptu bomb squad.” Backhand replied by way of explanation, tucking the salvaged mine into her satchel. “I got pretty good at working in gauntlets.”

His worry was touching all the same, the paladin letting out an awkward chuckle. “Hell, maybe you are lucky.” He shifted his weight nervously, pauldrons clattering in the relative stillness. “I should have known better than to think Brandis would make it easy. There’s a reason that old codger lived through everything.”

“You can either think I'm lucky, or you can just attribute it to the Sarge's bandanna like I usually do.” Backhand grinned, flexing her fingers experimentally. “Keep your eyes open for more and point them out if you see ‘em. These gauntlets are way better than the ones in my old suit. The mines won’t know what hit them.”

“Affirmative, Knight Vega.”

With both of them on guard, their progress was slowed somewhat. But they found three more mines thanks to their diligence, and Backhand carefully deactivated every one before the timer ran out. She was so focused on scanning the ground that she almost walked into Danse’s back when the paladin stopped in the middle of the path. “Danse?” Inwardly, she cursed herself for not addressing him properly.

Danse didn’t even seem to notice though, his attention fixed on a bunker built into the side of the shallow valley they were in. “Recon bunker Theta…of course .” He hissed like he was talking to himself. “How could I have forgotten?”

“Is this the place?” Backhand asked, peering over his shoulder warily. The armored man nodded, already striding towards the door of the bunker.

“It must be.”

…

There was a terminal affixed to the outer concrete of the building and the paladin wasted little time painstakingly manipulating his huge gauntlets to press the correct keys on the keyboard. There was a loud clunk! when the lock on the door disengaged, but the door itself remained shut tight. Danse swore under his breath, firmly rapping his knuckles on the metal door. “Paladin Brandis!” He called. “Can you hear me, sir?”

“Paladin Danse? Are you sure you should-” Backhand started to ask, sounding nervous.

“ Quiet , Vega.” Danse ordered brusquely. To her credit, she immediately fell silent. He could still hear her shifting back and forth behind him though, and he wondered what on earth could have her so antsy. Surely it couldn’t be that she was worried about what Brandis might do? “ Paladin Brandis! If you’re in there-”

“Uh, D-Danse, I don’t think you should be so loud.”

“Vega, he will not hear me otherwise.” Danse, losing his limited patience, hammered his fist on the door. “ Brandis! ”

He heard a flurry of motion behind the door. “Who’s out there? How did you get that keycode? Never mind, never mind, just go away! I’m not letting you in here!”

Danse’s throat tightened at the elderly officer’s voice. “Paladin Brandis, sir! It’s me, Pal--"

In his distress over finding Brandis, Danse had forgotten to be wary of his surroundings. Heavy footsteps shook the ground and Backhand’s cry of surprise was the only warning he had, the paladin halfway through turning around when he was thrown against the door of the bunker by a thunderous blow from a behemoth’s improvised club. His shoulder protested violently at the rough treatment but Danse shrugged off the pain. He was so used to getting pummeled by the inside of his armor, he practically anticipated the bruises. He raised his head and got a good eyeful of the ugly brute inches from his face.

Suddenly he couldn’t breathe. There was a dull roaring in his ears, static pounding at his temples like a hammer while he stared at the creature and it stared right through him. Bloody spittle foamed around its mouth, eyes wide and pupils nothing but pinpricks. Nostrils flared to take in his scent.

This thing was once human . Danse felt sick to his stomach.

“ Paladin! ” Backhand yelled, firing a glancing shot off the beast’s shoulder that made it rear back. She was giving him time again, Danse realized dimly, his body refusing to cooperate as he remembered Dawes’ horrific death at the hands of a super mutant, remembered Cutler, Cutler like a punch to the face. And this mutant was a behemoth .

His laser rifle, unnamed as of yet, shook in one slack, trembling hand.

Backhand flanked the massive creature to end up back at his side, her pauldron clanking into his own. “Paladin!” She barked and Danse instantly straightened up, his grip snapping tight on his gun.

“Ma’am!”

“Attack the enemy, soldier!” She sounded almost like Krieg, all righteous authority and fury inches from detonation.

An order, an order. Danse felt his body refocus on the here and now, banishing the horrific images of Dawes’ demise for later contemplation. “Yes ma’am!” He replied automatically, pulling the trigger and spraying laser shots into the behemoth’s massive chest. Backhand slung Righteous Authority back out of the way to dangle from its strap, her shotgun in her hands now. Danse was so used to the comparatively quiet report of laser weaponry that he actually flinched when she fired the shotgun. The drum-fed gun bolted to life at her touch, heavy slugs making the behemoth pause.

“ Eat hot lead, freak! ” Backhand shouted over the weapon, her words punctuating her shots. Danse got the feeling that pairing her with a Fat Man would make her nigh unstoppable.

Behind him, he heard something swing open. The door to the bunker! Brandis! “Knight Vega, maintain this position!” He demanded, not bothering to look back.

“A paladin…?” Brandis’ voice had an unfamiliar tremor in it.

“ Now , Vega!” Danse snapped.

“Sir, yes sir!” Backhand replied quickly, sliding into place where he had been a second ago. Her power armor frame filled the doorway as well as his had, and Danse brandished his rifle. The behemoth brayed deafeningly loud, seeming perturbed that its prey refused to cooperate.

“Not today, you giant freak!” Danse announced firmly.

…

Backhand had barely caught a glimpse of a worn face with an unkempt beard peering around the side of the doorway before she moved herself in front of the opening. She braced her shotgun against her plating and continued to hammer away at the behemoth, shell after shell ripping the creature’s thick hide.

Danse kept up his own attack, a seemingly endless stream of mutant-related verbal abuse pouring from him in time with his laser shots. Backhand almost wished she could hear him clearer, certain that he was swearing a blue streak that could put Sergeant Cathan to shame.

That club swept low, knocked Danse’s legs out from beneath him. The paladin landed on his back with a grunt of pain and the behemoth (in a surprising show of intelligence) picked up one of the nearby boulders and dropped it onto Danse’s chest. Danse gritted out an infuriated curse and started struggling to lift the boulder, actuators in his armor shrieking under the strain when the behemoth started pushing down on the rock. Clearly it was either trying to crack Danse’s armor or crush the paladin inside it.

“Shut the door.” Backhand said calmly. There was the sound of fidgeting behind her. “It’s going to be alright. Just shut the door.”

At the loud clunk! of the door closing, the behemoth looked up from Danse. Backhand barely had a moment to inhale before she was snatched up by a massive hand, the creature roaring triumphantly.

“Knight Vega!” Danse shouted, the paladin still trying to shift the massive rock enough to get free.

Backhand squirmed desperately in the beast’s grip, arms pinned to her sides and her shotgun pointed towards the ground. Well kid, you gave it a good try . She pumped her trigger out of desperation, not sure if she even had any shells left, and blew a hole through the behemoth’s foot. The gargantuan mutant howled in pain, flinging her through the air when it toppled over. She hit the ground hard enough to lose consciousness briefly, her head slamming against the inside of the helmet.

When she blinked her eyes open again, all she could see was a power armor sabaton inches from her face. There was a muffled report to her right and super mutant skull fragments and brain tissue abruptly sprayed across her helmet visor. “ Tango down .” Danse snarled.

“Jesus.” Backhand muttered, her gauntlet clanking loudly against her helmet. “What a hit.”

“Are you injured, Knight?” Danse sounded like his teeth were clenched.

“Blacked out for a second is all. You alright?”

“That’s irrelevant. We need to see to Paladin Brandis.” Danse said sharply.

“It’s been so long since I’ve heard my name.” Said a quivering voice. “I imagine I’m hallucinating at this point. Going mad from seclusion.”

“It’s Danse, sir, Paladin Danse. Don’t you recognize me?” Danse asked, and Backhand was sure she wasn’t supposed to hear the uncertainty in his tone.

Danse pulled her to her feet and she took in the sight of the elderly man in badly-worn combat armor across from them. He was studying Danse hard, his eyes widening when Danse unfastened his helmet and took it off. “ Danse? You…is it really you?” Brandis asked, his voice still shaking. “Oh my God, is it true?”

“It’s me, sir.” Danse replied stiffly. “Knight Vega and I were tasked with reacquiring you. Elder Maxson-”

“Maxson? It’s his fault that I’m even…my squadron…” Brandis’ words grew disjointed, choked with emotion.

“ The elder believes that you are still a valuable asset to the war effort, Paladin Brandis.” If Danse had been stiff before, he was outright stony now.

Brandis, entertainingly, waved off Danse’s chastising attitude. “Yes yes, praise be to the elder. I suppose it’s you two that I ought to be thanking, though. After all, you’re the ones who risked life and limb to come find me.”

“It was Knight Vega’s first assignment as a member of the Brotherhood. She was honored beyond measure.”

“I don’t suppose she can talk , can she?” Brandis asked dryly. Backhand decided that she liked Brandis. “Why all this trouble for me, though? And so suddenly? I’ve been sending distress signals for years , Danse.”

“It was only through sheer luck and our acquisition of Knight Vega’s skillset that we even managed to signal the Brotherhood for support.” Danse replied curtly. “Over half of Recon Squad Gladius is dead, their lives claimed in the line of duty. Much like your own squadron.”

“Oh, Danse.” Brandis said helplessly. “It’s such a heavy burden to carry. Their lives…and Astlin , I know you were so fond of her.”

“She was a good soldier. Best marksman I ever knew.” Danse gritted out.

“I’ll bet she was an even better friend.” Backhand said tentatively.

“She died with honor.”

“I don’t doubt it.” What the hell was going on? Danse sounded livid , the set of his shoulders visibly tense even through the power armor. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

“Danse, what does the Brotherhood even expect to get out of me? I’m too old, I’ve…I’ve been away for too long.” Brandis floundered.

“Elder Max-”

“ Fuck Arthur, Danse!” Brandis exploded. “I’m asking you . What do you believe that the Brotherhood can get out of me?”

“Intimate knowledge of the Commonwealth.” Danse snapped. “You’re a survivor, Brandis, and your skills could be indispensable to our troops.”

“There’s nothing I could teach that the locals couldn’t Danse, you and Maxson know that.”

“Yes, and you’re not a filthy local. You’re Brotherhood.”

“Am I?” Brandis mused, glancing towards Backhand. “And I’ll assume that Knight Vega is one of the so-called ‘ filthy locals ’?”

Danse paused, his hand still up in the air in the beginning of an irritated gesture. Backhand barely kept her snort in check. “Knight Vega is a…special case.” He said finally.

“Typical Brotherhood. You’re filthy, you’re garbage, you’re nothing . And then, you’re a special case if you’re useful. Sound familiar, Danse?” Brandis grumbled. “Sleep with one eye open, Vega. Maxson is a little boy in a much larger man’s battle coat.”

“Paladin!” Danse barked. “There is no need for this insubordinate behavior in front of my ward!”

Brandis drew himself up to his full height (which, next to Danse in full armor, wasn’t exactly intimidating ) and jabbed his index finger into the larger paladin’s breastplate. “Don’t you dare speak to me about insubordination, Danse.” He hissed, his green eyes snapping with fury. “My squadron is dead because of Arthur and you still want to play Lancelot?”

“The Brotherhood will honor their memory.” Danse intoned dully.

“I’ll honor your memory if you keep this up, you damn fool.” Brandis growled. “No, no , I won’t go back to that madman. Better that I stay in isolation.”

“I’m relatively certain that you staying here isn’t an option.” Backhand interjected. “Look, if the elder is as tricky as you say, he’s not going to let you live out your days in peace. You’re Brotherhood, or you were once, and you know too much. It was the same with the army.” Danse looked horrified and Backhand hurried to finish, sure that her opening wouldn’t last. “You should be as close to him as possible, if anything. Make it more difficult for him to do something shady by keeping an eye on him.”

“Knight Vega! ” Danse sputtered indignantly.

But Brandis was nodding his head, looking intently at her. “Take that helmet off, Vega. I make it a point to know my allies.”

“Yes sir.” Backhand undid the helm and pulled it over her head, tucking it under her arm as an afterthought. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

“You’re bleeding, Knight Vega.” Brandis pointed out after she saluted him and Danse fairly pounced on her, a huge finger looped through the pauldron on her shoulder jerking her around to face him. His gauntlet grazed her temple and she winced, grimacing when the metal returned brick-red.

“Just a scrape. I’ll be fine.” She insisted.

“I’m certain you will, Knight. How long have you been in Danse’s care?” Brandis asked genteelly.

“Ah, about t…two, three days?” Backhand answered cautiously.

“But Danse said that-”

“Knight Vega did not immediately accept the offer. I imagine that our ranks did not strike her as particularly impressive.” Danse cut Brandis off, his tone incredibly bitter.

“It wasn’t that. I had other obligations to deal with.” Backhand corrected him, trying to be gentle. “You guys were in a worse situation than most, but my responsibilities took me elsewhere.”

“True, I did not…I apologize, Knight Vega. That was unnecessarily harsh of me.” Danse admitted after a second.

“Be still my heart. You got him to apologize! Never thought I’d see the day.” Brandis said with a hint of faked bewilderment. Backhand decided to keep the fact that Danse had apologized to her three times in the same day to herself. “Alright Danse, I’ll return to that rustbucket . But only because Knight Vega makes an excellent point.”

“Shall I signal us a vertibird?” Danse asked, his hands clenched tightly at his sides.

“ Ha! And let Maxson get the drop on me? No, no, it’ll be better for me to show up on foot, alone. Provided you two have been discreet, this place will still serve its purpose as a fallback point. I’ll meander for a few days and then make my way…hmm.” Brandis’ eyes rested on Backhand.

“Can I loan you my suit for your journey if you won’t accept an escort?” Backhand offered, following his train of thought. “My combat armor is functional and on standby. May I loan him my power armor, Paladin Danse sir?” She knew she was spreading it on thick, but Danse was obviously a stickler for protocol. “He is a senior ranking officer, and I…I mean if I’m with you, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” It couldn’t hurt to flatter him a bit.

Danse’s face pinked up endearingly and he cleared his throat. “I don’t see why not. If you hope to arrive safely Brandis, this is the least we can do. I would prefer, of course, to accompany you sir. But it’s your decision.”

“How gracious of you to permit an old man his preferences.” Brandis replied dryly. Backhand couldn’t stifle her hiccup of laughter and Danse ‘ harrumph ’ed, obviously embarrassed by her behavior.

“Knight Vega and I will busy ourselves with other tasks in the Commonwealth until you make your return to the Brotherhood, Paladin.” Danse said sternly. “You realize that my knight cannot return without her armor and empty-handed.”

“Understood, Danse.”

Backhand fought the excited leap in her chest at the way Danse referred to her as ‘his’ knight, choosing instead to extract herself from her power armor and start strapping on her heavy combat gear. It’s only because he’s sponsoring you. Don’t be ridiculous , she scolded herself while she donned her breastplate and greaves.

“My thanks, Knight Vega. When you return, I’ll see that your armor is waiting in the bay for you.” Paladin Brandis promised, a heavy hand landing on her shoulder. “As well as a frazzled Maxson, if I play my cards right.” The old man grinned, his eyes still sad. “You two can help yourselves to anything in the bunker. I’ve collected some odds and ends over the years, so if you see something you need it’s yours.”

“Much obliged, sir.” Backhand said gratefully, struggling to recall what Preston had asked her to pick up in her travels. Well, we can always use more aluminum ...

Part Five

#fallout 4 #fallout four #paladin danse #paladin danse x sole survivor #paladin danse/sole survivor #paladin danse x f!sole #fallout #bethesda #video games #BOS #brotherhood of steel #enjoy!

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teacupfulofstarshine · 5 years

Text

LOVELY, DARK, AND DEEP: CHAPTER 7

cw: cursing, panic attack, anger, nonsexual nudity, extremely dubious/lacking morals, nonspecific mentions of unethical experimentation/vivisection, threats of violence towards loved ones, past child abandonment, nonspecific death threat mention, non-specific mention of human experimentation

chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // chapter 6 // read it on ao3!

word count: 7821

Logan cannot stop staring at his legs.

They’re so strange.

He pokes them with his finger, and then he pokes them again. And then he pokes them again, just for good measure, because what the fuck. They’re long and strange and the same color as his arms, which is weird, and instead of fins they end in weird, flat hands with small, flat, useless fingers, which is weirder. He can wiggle them if he really tries, but he doesn’t have anywhere near the same range of motion as he does with his hands.

He hates it.

Virgil quickly dumps his brother into the tank and hurries off, presumably to get his father and the other human, and Roman quickly pushes up above the edge of the tank. “Logan?! Are you okay?!”

Logan is shaking. “Roman, what’s happening to me?! Why am I like this?! I look like a human , I don’t understand - what’s happening?!”

“Sharkbait, hey, hey, breathe, it’s okay!” Roman reaches out and grips his hands tightly. “Sharkbait, you’re gonna be okay. I’m here, I’m right here and so’s Dad. The humans are bringing Dad right now, he’ll know what’s happening, he’ll sort all this out and you’ll be fine. You’ll be fine , okay?”

“What if this is permanent?! What if I never get my tail back?! What if I have to stay on land forever?!” Roman’s eyes blow wide with horror, and Logan feels his chest begin to tighten and seize up.

“That - no, that’s not going to happen, Lo,” Roman says. “We’re going to save you. We’re going to bring you back to us. We’re not losing you. We’re not, do you hear me?”

He sounds completely convinced. Logan isn’t convinced at all, but seeing his brother’s conviction still reassures him. He grabs at his brother’s hands, trying desperately to hold on to this little piece of his family. “I . . . I -!”

“Hey, shhhhhh, don’t worry. I’m here, I’m here. Dad’s coming, and I’m here. It’s gonna be okay.” Roman leans up to press his soaking forehead against Logan’s newly dry one, and Logan leans into the soft touch. “I’m here. You’re our pod, Sharkbait. Even if the human legs are permanent, we’re not gonna just ditch you. You’re my brother. You and Dad are the only family that I have left anymore.”

“You and Dad are the only family I have ever had,” Logan says. He can feel a strange type of water on his cheeks, and when he touches his face he realizes that he’s leaking too, just like Virgil had been earlier.

“We’re not abandoning you.”

Something clatters in the hallway, and he whirls around. Roman’s spines stiffen and flare out defensively, and Logan tries to prepare himself to flood the room with electricity before realizing with a sudden sinking feeling that he no longer has his electricity. He’s completely defenseless if he gets attacked right now.

He thanks the Seven Mother Goddesses when he realizes that it’s just Virgil and the other human, coming with his dad in one of those little mobile oceans. They slide the mobile ocean to a halt next to Roman’s tank, and Patton launches himself in with a splash before reaching up to touch Logan’s hand.

“Dad . . .” Logan says. He hates the way his voice trembles. “Dad, I . . . wh . . . what’s happening to me?”

Oh, guppy, his dad says. I never wanted you to find out this way.

“Wh - what? What do you mean, find out this way, Dad? What am I supposed to find out?”

“Um, would someone care to fill us in, please?” Virgil asks. Roman starts to translate for them, but everything that isn’t his dad’s voice fades away to static buzz in Logan’s ears.

You weren’t born a mer. Not like Roman was, guppy. Haven’t you ever wondered why you only have one set of these? His dad’s gills flare out as he breathes, and Logan’s vision begins to blur.

“Wh . . . what?”

You were born as a human. You had a normal human life with normal human parents and a normal human family. But you were killed at sea, and your body was thrown into the ocean. It must have been a full moon, and the Seven Mother Goddesses must have taken pity on you and transformed you into a mer. It is rare, but I have heard of it happening. I had thought that you would spend your whole life in the ocean, and never know of your true origin, but it did not turn out that way.

“I . . . I used to be . . . a what?”

Roman’s eyes are wide, jaw slack. “You . . . Sharkbait, Dad says . . . he says . . . you were a . . . a human . . .”

“What?” Virgil whispers, eyes wide. “That . . . what?”

Logan stares at his father. The water rippling above his face creates a distortion, but Logan swears that his father looks sad. Regretful.

I am so sorry, guppy. When we found you, you were miserable. I knew that telling you what you had lost would only make you more so. I did not want that for you. I have never wanted that for you. For either of you .

Logan runs his free hand down his leg again. It’s one of the weirdest physical sensations he’s ever encountered. “I . . . I used to be . . . human?”

Not for centuries, guppy. You have been mer for far longer than you were ever human.

Roman stares at him with an unreadable expression in his eyes. Logan reaches for his brother, and Roman hesitates for just a moment before reaching back to take his hand.

That moment is enough to break Logan’s heart.

“Are - will you kick me out of your pod now?” he says, not even daring to refer to it as his pod. “Since I am not a real -”

A loud, furious screech rises up from the tank where his father is, and Logan gasps when he sees all of the little lights on the edges of his fins begin to flare so brightly he can’t bear to look. Roman shields his eyes, and Logan notices the two humans ducking down. Thomas throws his body over Virgil’s protectively, and the water in the tank begins to churn.

DO NOT EVER PRESUME TO UTTER SUCH BLASPHEMIES AGAINST ME AGAIN, his father thunders, water surging up around him in a column as he rises up. YOU ARE MY SON, AND ANYONE WHO TELLS YOU OTHERWISE WILL FACE AN UNTIMELY END AT MY HANDS. The captured stars that illuminate the room begin to flicker, and Logan hears the humans whimper.

“Dad! Dad, you have to calm down!” Logan shouts. “Please!”

The figure in the column turns its glowing eyes on him, and Logan reaches a hand up. He doesn’t know if he can still speak his native tongue in this fragile human body, but he’s sure as hell going to try.

“Dad! Please!” His voice is harsh and grating, and when he tries to speak his words all come out mangled and broken. “No fight! Stop! Please!”

The water hovers in the air for only a moment more before abruptly falling back into the tank. His father coils around the bottom of the tank, regretful. I am sorry, guppy. I did not mean to get so . . . out of sorts.

“It’s alright, Dad,” Logan says.

You and your brother are my pod. You are my guppies. I have known you since you were no bigger than my fin. I will not allow anything to threaten or harm you. You will always be a part of my pod, no matter what happens.

“Are you alright?” Thomas asks, still crouched protectively over Virgil. “Logan, is your dad okay?”

“Yes, Thomas, he is.”

Apologize to him for me?

“He apologizes for terrifying you. It was not his intention. He simply gets . . . protective.”

“Understandable,” Thomas shrugs. “I get the same way around my protege here.”

“Doc!” Virgil hisses, face rapidly turning that strange red color humans sometimes turn. Logan notices that Virgil refuses to look at him, and he frowns. It feels as though his heart has been replaced with a sea urchin.

“Are you upset with me, Virgil?” he says.

Virgil blinks. “What? Why would you think that?”

“You are not looking at me. You have not looked at me since I gained these human appendages. Have I angered you in some way? I do not understand, but I apologize for whatever I have done to -”

“No!” Virgil yelps. “God - no, Lo, I’m not mad at you,” he says. “I’m not mad, I promise. I’m sorry, I’m not mad, I just - you - you’re not wearing any clothes.”

“What is ‘clothes’?” Roman asks. Virgil tugs at the coverings he wears. “Logan hasn’t worn those since he’s been here! None of us have!”

“Yeah, but you guys aren’t - your lower halves - I -”

Logan blinks. “You are referring to my exposed genitalia?”

Virgil turns even redder and makes a very strange squeaking noise, burying his face in his hands. “Yes! You need to put some clothes on, Jesus Christ, where were you even hiding that?!”

“We have an area in our -”

“It was a rhetorical question and I very much do not want to know the answer!” Virgil shrieks.

“I’ll get you some clothes,” Thomas says. “Virgil, can you -”

“I will go get the clothing!” Virgil says immediately, standing up and staring very fixedly at the floor. “I will get the clothing. I will go now.”

“Get him a pair of my sweatpants and a t-shirt, okay?” Virgil nods, hurrying out of the lab as fast as Logan has ever seen him move. Logan squints after him as he goes. “Are you okay, Logan?”

“I find that my vision is somewhat impaired,” Logan says. “I do not like this.” Thomas makes one of those strange human thinking noises and peers at Logan closely. Logan does his best not to flinch away from Thomas, peering back at him. Roman growls at Thomas’s proximity to Logan, but Logan doesn’t protest.

“You had electroreception to help you see, right?”

“That is correct.”

“You don’t have it anymore, do you?”

“I do not currently have access to my electricity.” Thomas makes another thinking noise and pulls a small white object from his pocket. It looks like the thing that Virgil makes his draws on, but when Thomas produces his stick he doesn’t make draws. He makes interesting-looking squiggles on the white thing.

“I wonder if glasses would help you,” Thomas says. “We’ll have to explore that later, depending on how long you’re human like this.” Logan looks at his dad as a sudden burst of terror spikes through his chest. He hadn’t considered that this might last.

“How - how long will I be like this, Dad?” he asks. Roman is staring at their father with a terrified anger painted openly across his face. “Will this be permanent? Will I have to stay here without you?”

“Never,” Roman snarls, spines ruffling and standing on end. “I don’t care if you have legs forever, there’s no way I’m leaving you here with these humans! You’re not a human, you’re my brother!” Logan looks at his Dad, refusing to look anywhere else. He wants to hear the answer more than anything. He never wants to hear the answer.

It has been a long time since I encountered a human-mer that changed frequently, his father says wearily. My memory of those times is fading now. Logan forgets, sometimes, how old their father is. But if my memories are correct, you will retain this form irreversibly for a full day and night. After that, you will regrow your tail and gills when you touch the water of the sea. Once you fully dry, your legs will return.

“What did he say?” Thomas asks gently. Logan feels something wet on his face, and lifts his hand up to feel it. “Are you okay? You’re crying.”

“Is that what this is?” Logan asks. His voice sounds thick and far away, distant to his own ears. “I . . . I am leaking?”

“You’re crying,” Thomas says. “It’s what humans do when we have so much emotion we don’t know how to express it properly. You’ll be alright.” He gently touches Logan’s shoulder, and such a simple gesture should send sparks shooting through Logan as though he’s accidentally shocked himself, but it does. “What did your dad say?”

“I - I will have these legs for a full day and night. After that, touching seawater will allow me to regrow my tail, and drying completely will allow me to grow legs again.” Thomas smiles, broad and happy, flashing his teeth as he squeezes his shoulder.

“That’s amazing! So you’ll be able to rejoin your family and go home once your injuries heal, that’s good!”

“What’s good?” Virgil calls, hurrying down the stairs with a bundle of strange objects in his arms. Thomas takes them from him, shaking them out and laying them over one of the nearby tables.

“Logan’s gonna have his legs for a day, and then he’ll get his tail when he touches salt water. Once he completely dries off, he’ll get his legs back.” Virgil smiles at that, cheeks still pink, and Logan has to stop himself from reaching out to touch him.

“That’s good. I’m glad he’ll get his tail back. But for now, we should get him into some clothes.”

“Agreed. Logan, can you stand up?” Logan blinks at Thomas.

“Can I . . . what?”

Thomas gestures to the way he and Virgil are currently positioned. “Stand up, like this. Can you do that?” Logan tilts his head, frowning at the humans. They both move so easily through the air, the way that he and Roman and their dad move through the water. Logan’s never tried to do anything like that before - he’s never had legs before, no reason to think he would ever have them. But now that he has them, now that he’s stuck with them for at least the foreseeable future, doesn’t he owe it to himself to at least try?

Something presses close in the back of his mind, sliding into the front and winding its way around his train of thought like an eel, like a tangled piece of seaweed, like the tentacles of an enormous squid: if he grows legs again and learns to use them properly, there is potential to come and visit these humans again, to visit Virgil again, and he cannot shake the way his entire body lights up with electric fire at the thought of regular visits and Virgil teaching him to make more draws and Virgil’s smile and Virgil’s quiet, stifled laughter and Virgil’s everything -

Logan’s not used to having two appendages below the waist. He’s used to just his tail, which moves all at once in a smooth, fluid motion. When he tries to turn, he’s shocked to see that the leg on the right moves, but the one on the left does not. There’s a painful tugging sensation between them when he spreads them too far apart, so he carefully moves his other leg. They swing over the edge of the table, dangling the way his tail sometimes does, and experimentally leans forward.

The weird hands at the end of his legs touch the ground, and Logan frowns at the sensation. It’s cold, smooth stone - no, not stone, something else, something hard and smooth but decidedly not stone, something human-made - and he shivers a little. He’s unsure how to proceed until Thomas sits down next to him.

“You’ve never stood up before, have you?”

“I have never had legs before, to my knowledge. I mean . . . I must have had them when I was a human, but . . . but I do not remember that time.”

“Not at all?” Virgil asks. He’s looking in Logan’s direction now, although his eyes appear to be fixated somewhere above Logan’s head. “Nothing of your human life?”

“No,” Logan says softly. “I have no memories of my human life. I did not even know I had a human life, before recently.” Virgil makes a noise that might be sad, might be angry, might be confused, might be a million different things. Before Logan can even blink, Virgil is standing in front of him, holding his hands out, eyes staring straight into Logan’s.

“Here,” he says softly.

“Here what?”

“Here, take my hands. I’ll help you.”

Logan hesitates for only a moment before reaching up and placing his hands into Virgil’s. His hands are broad and warm, and there are rough patches around his fingers and the parts of his hand where they connect, but they’re also soft and comforting. He squeezes Logan’s hands and smiles gently at him. “You’re gonna be alright,” he says softly. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you fall and get hurt. Well, more than you already are, anyway.” Virgil huffs out a soft laugh and takes a step backward, pulling Logan along.

Logan manages to stand for a few precious, wobbly seconds, holding Virgil’s hands tightly all the while, before wobbling and pitching forward. Virgil surges toward him, and Logan closes his eyes to brace himself for an imminent collision with the floor.

Instead, his face presses into something soft and warm and still strong, and arms wrap around him, and he hears Virgil make a soft, almost wounded noise. “Gotcha!” Logan opens his eyes to find himself slumped against Virgil, having all but collapsed into him, and Virgil’s arms are wound around him tightly. Logan looks up, and Virgil’s face is close, closer than it’s ever been. His eyes are bright and wide, and his little brown face scales (what had Virgil called them? Freckles?) are prominent against the pink of his cheeks, and his mouth is open in a soft little pink round shape that Logan wants more than anything to touch.

They stare at each other for a time that could be forever or fantastically short. Suddenly, Virgil’s face jumps from pretty pink to burning red, and he begins to sputter. Logan blinks at him, and then he realizes what Virgil has noticed. Virgil’s position is changed now that he’s caught Logan, now that he’s holding Logan, and his hands are dangerously close to Logan’s exposed genitalia.

Virgil pushes forward, shifting Logan’s body along with his own, and Logan lets him without resistance. He lets himself be maneuvered into a standing position, and even though Virgil has returned to not looking at him, he keeps Logan’s hands tightly in his own. “Let’s get some clothes on you before we try walking, okay?”

Logan nods, letting Virgil change and adjust his positioning to keep him steady. Thomas hands something to Virgil, who reaches out and carefully pushes it over Logan’s head. “Here we go . . . let me help you, let me move your arms. This way, through this hole . . . careful, I don’t wanna get your head stuck . . .”

Before Logan knows what’s happening, the clothes has been securely pulled around the upper half of his body. Thomas holds the other clothes, crumpling them up strangely and wrapping a hand around Logan’s leg. “Lift . . . here, through here . . . good, now put that one down, you’re gonna lift the other one . . . whoa, don’t lose your balance now, Virgil, catch him -! There we go, you’re all suited up! Just gotta pull these up, aaaaaand . . . done!”

Logan pulls at the clothes around him. The one over his chest is loose and baggy, and the ones around his new legs pool around the strange flat hands. “What are these?” Logan asks. Virgil touches the clothes over his chest.

“This is a shirt.” His hand travels down to point to the one around his legs. “These are called pants.”

“Oh - thank you, but I - I meant, what are these?” Logan lifts his leg and carefully wiggles the flat hand on the end of it. Virgil tilts his head, leaning down to poke it.

“Your feet?”

“A feet?”

Virgil laughs, and Logan wants to hear that sound forever. “Feet is plural. You have two feet, one foot on each leg.”

“They look like flat hands,” Logan says honestly. “And the fingers are more terrible than my other ones.” Virgil laughs more, one hand coming up to cover his eyes.

“Those are called toes, Logan, they don’t have the dexterity of your fingers. They’re mostly there to help you balance while you walk.”

“I do not know how to do that.”

“What, balance?”

“No. Walk.” Virgil smiles at him, soft as sunshine filtering through the warm spring water.

“I can teach you, if you’re interested. I know you won’t have legs for very long, but -”

“I am,” Logan blurts out. “Interested. Very much so. I dislike being immobile in any context. Would you be so kind as to teach me?”

Virgil smiles, and Logan wants to see that sight forever. “Of course, Logan.”

*~*~*~*~*

“You can see here, ma’am, that our section D nets have been overwhelmingly productive this month. We have acquired many fine specimens and -”

“What of your progress in locating net 17-C?”

“We . . . have not yet located it, ma’am.”

“And are you still trying to locate net 17-C?”

“I . . .”

The scientist quails under the icy weight of her stare. “You do understand that when I specifically request something done, it is because I consider it to be of the highest priority, do you not?”

“I do, ma’am.”

“And you do understand that I am in control, not only of your gainful employment, your livelihood, but also your very life at this present moment.”

“I - I do, ma’am.”

“You have a husband and a young daughter at home, do you not?” She stares at him, and he does his very best not to flinch. He swallows, hard.

“That - that I do.”

“Such a shame, wouldn’t it be, if they were to receive a call that you were never again to come home?”

“It - it certainly would, m - ma’am.”

“Then I suggest you divert all available resources to locating net 17-C. I will not let whatever it captured escape me a second time. I want that net found and I want whatever it captured in my labs as soon as possible, or I will have to make a very unpleasant phone call - well, unpleasant for you, at the very least.”

The scientist nods, swallowing, and watches her walk away, shoes clicking against the floor. He downs what’s left of his morning coffee and pulls up his screen again, combing through drone footage by hand.

She makes her way back to her office, where her secretary waits with a tablet in her hand. “I tire of constantly reminding them their priorities,” she sighs, slumping onto the couch. The secretary smiles sympathetically, pulling up a screen with a string of ominous red text.

“Would you like me to terminate him, ma’am?”

“No, not yet. For all his incompetence, he is a decent scientist, and I do not feel like searching for a replacement. Besides, now that he has been reminded of his proper task, I have hopes that he will perform as expected.”

“Would you like me to update you on the progress of our experiments in the labs, or would you prefer that I continue to monitor the search for net 17-C?”

“There will likely not be news of net 17-C for a while, since I had to kickstart the research myself. Inform me of the progress on my experiments.”

“Of course, ma’am. Let me pull up the data. Which experiment would you prefer to receive an update for first?”

“Oh . . . how is the toxicity of that jelly-pufferfish hybrid coming along? Any promising results?”

“Efficacy appears to have increased by twenty percent since implementing the use of CRISPR technology you recommended, ma’am. You were correct, as always. The final round of animal testing is scheduled for later this week. Is this acceptable, or should we push it forward?”

“Hmmm . . . that timeline is acceptable, for now. Am I correct in assuming that plans are already underway for human trials?”

“I have reached out to the usual suppliers with our demands, ma’am. Still waiting for response.”

“How long?”

“Approximately twelve hours. I anticipate a response before twenty-four.”

“Satisfactory. If you do not receive one within that time frame, you may begin to initiate appropriate measures. On to the next.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The secretary dutifully runs through four or five more experiments in progress, most of which are still in the midst of animal testing, and a few experiments revolving around live specimens in captivity. “That just brings us to the results of the weather analysis you requested.”

“Ah, yes.” She sits up, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “The weather patterns from the night that net 17-C was disrupted. Have you tracked the tidal movement?”

“I have, ma’am.”

“Accounting for wind and wave conditions?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What have you found?” Her eyes burn with the intensity of a supernova, and it is only through experience and practice that the secretary does not flinch under such a sight. She only swipes across the tablet to pull up a map of the shoreline and turns it around.

“With the greatest possible degree of scientific certainty, we believe that this area is the most likely place for net 17-C to have washed up.” Red slashes denote a stretch of beach around three miles long. She hums, poking at the tablet in the secretary’s hand.

“I trust you have done the cursory research? Who owns the property?”

“I encountered a brief legal snafu, but it was nothing I could not overcome. If I am not mistaken, the results should be coming in riiiiiiiight . . . now.” The tablet dings, and the secretary turns it around to inspect the property report she has received. She is unable to control her disgusted expression.

“What? You seem distressed.”

“It appears, ma’am, that the property in question, as well as all surrounding areas, is under the direct ownership of one Doctor Thomas Sanders.” She scowls, reaching to the bun in her hair and pulling out a hairpin. With precision efficiency, she whirls around and throws it towards the far wall. It impales itself neatly in the center of a cluster of small holes.

“That man has been a thorn in my side for far too long,” she snarls. “What with his insistence on preservation and rehabilitation and other such nonsense. The earth is at our disposal! Do we not have the right - nay, the responsibility - as scientists to advance human progress? If other creatures must suffer, they lack the cognizance to understand that they are sacrificed for the greater good. Humanity above all must progress.”

“Do you think he found net 17-C?” the secretary asks carefully.

And whatever it caught, she doesn’t say.

“It is possible. I know that he beachcombs with that brainwashed doctoral student he keeps on a leash after storms. It’s pathetic. The larger your heart, the smaller your brain. How that man acquired a doctorate will forever remain a mystery to me.”

“Would you like me to increase drone patrols near that section of ocean?”

“It can’t hurt. He doesn’t do enough deep-water research to notice them, as long as we are clever about it. Increase the frequency, and set up remote surveillance on his property. It’s fairly secluded, but we should be able to glean enough data if we’re careful.”

“And what sort of data are we looking for, ma’am?”

“I want the schedule of comings and goings from his house. If we can isolate times when the house is empty, it will allow us access to his laboratory. I am certain that if net 17-C truly did wash ashore on his property, Sanders will be attempting to rehabilitate whatever specimen we acquired. He is too soft for science.”

“Very good, ma’am.”

“I want you to set up the lab to receive new specimens.”

“Which lab, ma’am?”

“My personal lab. Whatever net 17-C managed to catch, it is clearly troublesome. It will require a firm hand to manage.”

The secretary is stunned, but doesn’t show it. “As you wish, ma’am. What type of specimen shall I prepare your lab for?”

“Anything in the sunfish to great white range. And prepare it for human containment as well.”

“Moving straight to human testing, ma’am?”

She grins, teeth flashing in the harsh afternoon sunlight. “Sanders stole something precious from me when he took net 17-C and whatever it contains. Let us see how well his soft heart reacts when he loses something precious to him, hmm?”

The secretary makes a note. “Shall I prepare the room for vivisection, ma’am?”

“Hmm . . . not yet. We shall hold off until we discover what exactly net 17-C caught. You are dismissed.”

“As you wish, ma’am.”

*~*~*~*~*

Virgil definitely feels much more comfortable now that Logan has clothing on. He also feels much more uncomfortable, because Logan and Roman are now fighting loudly. Patton is swimming around in his tank, fins swishing irritably, and the occasional grating melody floats up from the water, but neither merman seems to be listening.

“You seem to be doing just fine!” Roman snarls. All of his spines are standing straight up on end, and he looks like a sea urchin or a particularly enraged porcupine. Virgil would be laughing if he wasn’t completely terrified. “Not a care in the world about your precious fucking legs, is there?”

“I am just as upset over this as you are!” Logan snaps. He’s returned to sitting on the lab table, legs neatly folded underneath him (not without a significant amount of effort), and his hands are shaking as he balls them into fists. He’s staring in Roman’s direction, but his eyes are unfocused, probably due to his poor eyesight.

“Really? Because you certainly seem to be perfectly fine with the situation! You like the humans well enough to abandon your own pod for them?! Were you ever even part of this pod to begin with?!”

Logan’s spine stiffens, ramrod straight. Patton stops moving in his little tank. Virgil holds his breath and stands silent, making eye contact with an equally silent Thomas. “What?” Logan’s voice is so quiet that they can barely hear it, barely more than an exhale, but it echoes like a gunshot in the silence.

“You heard me,” Roman bites out viciously. “What would you know about pod? What do you know about family? Dad gave you everything and you’re willing to throw it away for - for these humans?! I guess it takes a human to know one, doesn’t it? You have a pod already, one that loves you more than anything , one that would have given up their own lives to get you back and then you abandon us for strangers?! How dare you?! How dare you give up on a pod that actually fucking wanted you?!”

There are tears streaming down Roman’s face; he grips the edge of the tank so hard that Virgil is legitimately concerned he’ll crack the glass. Water roars up from Patton’s tank in a coiled stream and smacks Roman’s head. The music picks up in tempo and volume, almost drowned by the harsh rasping undertones, and Virgil fights not to cover his ears.

Roman whirls around to stare at his father. “Dad, what the hell, what are you -”

A tail appears from Patton’s tank, light blue that shimmers rainbow beneath the fluorescent lights, and it slaps down against Roman. Virgil can’t stop himself from whimpering nervously when Roman’s agitated spines prick Patton. One spine even remains stuck in Patton’s tail when he pulls back, but he doesn’t seem bothered.

“How,” Logan says, “could you possibly interpret my curiosity and gratitude towards the humans who saved my life and my interest in a culture I know nothing about as abandonment? You have no idea how distraught I was when I realized where I had woken up! Just because these humans turned out to be relatively harmless does not mean that I do not still need my pod!” His voice is getting louder and higher and angrier, and he swallows hard before speaking again with a distinct tremor.

“I still need my big brother and my father, Roman. I was so happy when you and Dad came for me, I was so happy to know that my pod was going to protect me and bring me home. Are - are you telling me that . . . that I will not be able to return home with you after all? Are you kicking me out of -”

“NO!” The noise tears its way out of Roman’s throat, strangled and unnatural, and he grips his own hair so tightly he’s practically tearing it out. Logan reaches down hesitantly, gently touching Roman’s hands, and when his brother doesn’t react negatively he carefully disentangles Roman’s fingers from his hair.

“Roman,” Logan says softly. “I am right here. I will not leave you, Roman. I promise. I am sorry I scared you, but I will not abandon you. Not like they did.”

“Who?” Virgil asks softly. Roman’s spines ruffle again, but they soften enough for Logan to lean in and hug his brother. Roman pushes his face into the curve of Logan’s neck and shoulder, and a keening wail escapes the tight embrace. “Is he alright?”

“He will be,” Logan says softly, stroking his hand through Roman’s soaking wet hair. “And to answer your question, Roman has a . . . somewhat complicated past.”

“You don’t have to tell us anything that you don’t want to,” Thomas says. “You know that, right?” Logan nods, gently touching Roman’s shoulder.

“Roman? Thomas and Virgil are asking questions about the manner in which you found Patton when you were young. May I disclose this information?” Roman makes another sad noise, but he nods into Logan’s shoulder.

“Roman was born to a pod of mer with similar physiology to his own as far as coloring, build, size, detachable spines, and the like. Unlike them, however, Roman’s spines are poisonous. This is a rare trait, thought by his birth pod to be a curse from the Seven Mother Goddesses for some failing on the part of the guppy or the parents. Roman managed to successfully conceal his toxins for a while, but . . .”

“But not forever,” Virgil says softly. He rubs his left wrist, where a small rainbow-patterned bracelet is tightly tied. “Eventually, they found out. They always find out.” Thomas shoots him a concerned look out of the corner of his eye; Virgil steadfastly ignores it.

Logan nods quietly. “When Roman’s so-called ‘curse’ was discovered, his pod cast him out. They believed that getting rid of him would lift the curse the Seven Mother Goddesses had placed on them. All things considered, he was relatively lucky that his mother was the daughter of their pod leader.”

“She was? Does that make him some kind of prince or something?”

“No, but it did accord him a status and prestige that most mer do not have. The standard penalty for poisonous spines on a mer is death in Roman’s part of the ocean.”

“Death?”

“Indeed. Roman’s mother pleaded for leniency for her son, and Roman’s lucky to have received it. They abandoned him to fend for himself as a guppy. He was barely old enough to fend for himself, barely old enough to hunt and catch his own food, he - he was a guppy. He was just a guppy.” Logan’s voice shakes with anger as he speaks.

“How did he find Patton?”

“Dad was injured,” Roman rasps, face still hidden in Logan’s neck. “Humans on a boat. They - they fired a harpoon at him. It went through his chest, he - he couldn’t move to hunt. He was injured, he was dying, he . . .”

Patton rears up out of his tank, water surrounding his head and neck, and reaches out to touch Roman’s shoulder. Virgil can’t tear his eyes away from the pale starburst scar covering Patton’s chest. He’s littered with scars, some bigger than others, but the starburst on his chest is the most prominent, raised and ropey.

“I helped him,” Roman says. “I brought him food, I bandaged him up, I scared away as many predators as I could . . .”

Patton responds, squeezing his shoulder, before he sinks back into the tank. “When Dad recovered, he . . . he told me that he wanted me. I told him I was cursed, and he told me that . . . that I was special. That he wanted me. And he . . .”

Roman touches the band of light blue scales on his left bicep, the band that matches Logan’s arm and Patton’s tail. “He told me I belonged to him. That I was part of his pod now. Dad and Lo, they’re the only family I’ve known for centuries now. I love them. I . . . I can’t lose them. I can’t.”

“You will not lose me,” Logan says firmly. “I swear that I will not abandon you or Dad. I have never had a family before the two of you, and I never will again. You are so indescribably important to me that I cannot possibly begin to put into words how devastated I would be if I were to wake up and find out that you had abandoned me. I love you, Roman, and Dad.”

“I know that,” Roman rasps quietly. “I’m sorry I implied that you didn’t. I - I just - I was so -”

“I know,” Logan says. “I am not mad, Roman. Not anymore.”

“That’s why this whole thing happened,” Roman says. Virgil watches his hand curl into a fist on Logan’s back. “We were fighting, and I . . . made you mad at me, and that’s why you swam off. I . . . I can’t . . . I can’t wrap my head around losing you again, and having it be all my fault, again .”

“It was not your fault the first time,” Logan admonishes. “We were fighting because we can both be stubborn and hard-headed and unable to recognize the truth in the words of another. We are both to blame for the argument, but neither of us is to blame for what the humans did to me.”

Virgil’s gaze lingers on the freshly re-wrapped bandages covering what’s visible of Logan’s arms and legs and torso. When he’d grown legs, the wounds on his tail had transferred, and some of them had been reopened. Virgil had very deliberately not looked at Logan’s face when he cleaned the wounds.

“This is not your fault,” Logan says firmly, holding Roman tightly. “You are not to blame for what happened to me. I did not die, and I was not captured by humans who seek to exploit me. Thomas and Virgil rescued me.”

Roman turns his head from where it’s hidden in Logan’s shoulder to look at Virgil. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “For saving my brother’s life. For bringing him off the beach and wrapping his wounds and cleaning the poison from his body. He would have died if you hadn’t saved him. I - I know that I’ve been . . . less than happy to see you, to be in your little fake oceans. I’ve had . . . bad experiences with humans in the past, so many, with so many different humans. But I . . . you . . . thank you. You and Thomas both, but . . . but I understand that you were the one who found him first. That you’ve been talking him through all of this. Thank you.”

Virgil reaches a hand forward. Roman flinches a little, but he slowly takes Virgil’s hand. His hand is wet and scaled, but when Virgil squeezes he squeezes back.

“You’re welcome,” Virgil says.

“You’re welcome,” Thomas says. “And all three of you are more than welcome to stay here in our lab until we catch whoever it is that set the net. You’re welcome to go and hunt in the waters off our property, and you can bring it back here for Logan to eat or we can bring in fish to feed him.”

Patton’s voice floats through the air again. “We . . . we think we would like that,” Roman says softly. “Very much.”

“Roman,” Logan says. Roman turns to look up at his younger brother, and Logan quietly says, “I intend to return here, once I am fully healed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Virgil is different to any other human I’ve ever encountered. Thomas as well. They are . . . strange. Tolerable. I would like to learn more about human customs, and I think that they can teach me. I would like to practice using my legs, so that I can interact more efficiently with humans. They can teach me to blend in more efficiently.”

“You would willingly come back here?” Roman says. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Sharkbait, what if something happens to you?”

“I would never let that happen,” Virgil says. Thomas raises an eyebrow, and Virgil quickly amends his statement. “ We would never let that happen. Doc and I, we won’t let anything happen to your brother.”

Roman frowns. “I still don’t like this. I don’t like the idea of you coming back to the human world, especially after what happened to you. Dad, what do you think?” Patton is quiet for a moment, swishing around in his tank, but when his voice is audible again it sounds firm, determined.

“What?!”

“What?” Virgil asks. “What did he say?”

“He . . . agrees with me,” Logan says, eyes wide and stunned. “He thinks it is a good idea that I learn to stay here and blend in with the humans. It would be a good idea in case we need to know what is happening in the human world. And he . . . he thinks I am capable of making my own decisions.” Roman looks extremely upset, but Patton is still speaking. He sounds a little softer now.

“Dad says that if you are agreeable with it, he and Roman might also return to visit,” Logan says. “He wants to know more about humans as well, and he trusts the two of you since you took care of me and helped him find me again.”

“I’m not opposed to it,” Thomas says. “We can learn from each other - we teach you about humans, you teach us about mer. Roman, we could start with you.” Roman tenses up immediately.

“Me? What do you mean, me?”

“The poison in your spines,” Thomas says, He turns to Virgil, a familiar didactic twinkle in his eye. “Any speculations, Virgil?”

Virgil hums, stepping over to the whiteboard and pulling a marker from his pocket. “It could be Mendelian inheritance. Poison could be a recessive gene, something that only occurs under a very specific set of genetic circumstances.”

“What does that mean?” Roman says, sounding a little less suspicious than before.

“There’s something inside you called DNA,” Virgil says, drawing a very basic helix on the whiteboard. “It makes up your blood and your cells and stuff, and it’s basically the pattern that your body uses to make itself. Your parents had the potential for poisonous spines, and the majority of your birth pod probably had it, too.”

“But only I have poison,” Roman says. “Why is that?”

“Look at it this way,” Virgil says. “You need at least two copies of a certain sequence or pattern in order to have poison in your spines. Your parents each had one copy, and most of the other mer in your pod either had one copy or no copies. You were born with two copies, so you have poison.”

“So . . . I’m not cursed?” Roman sounds like a small child, painfully hopeful, eyes wide and flickering between doubt and happiness.

“No, you are not,” Virgil says firmly. “You are not cursed in the slightest.”

“I never believed that you were cursed,” Logan says firmly. “Your poison is a gift, just like my electricity. It makes you a more efficient predator and offers you more protection.” Roman rolls his eyes and scoffs, but he still hugs Logan more tightly.

“Would you permit us to study your spines?” Thomas asks Roman. “I want to analyze your poison.”

“Will it hurt?” Roman asks.

“No. Your spines are detachable, right? You can fire them at will?”

“I can.”

“All you would have to do is fire a spine or two, and we could analyze it. It doesn’t have to be right now, you can think about it, but I promise you that it wouldn’t hurt you anymore than firing your spines normally would.” Roman nods at him, and Patton speaks again.

“Dad says you are more than welcome to study him, if you wish, so long as you tell him what you are doing beforehand and ask his permission.”

“Same goes for me,” Roman says quickly.

“Of course,” Thomas says. “We would never perform any sort of science without your explicit consent. That’s not how we operate. We’re ethical scientists. I’d have you sign consent forms if, y’know, you knew how to write.”

Virgil laughs a little, but Roman and Logan seem genuinely reassures. Roman presses close to Logan with a soft noise before slithering back into the water and submerging both of his sets of gills again.

Logan shifts his attention to Virgil. “I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

“I would like to see what my face looks like. Is there a way in which that could be made possible? I have seen my face when I still had my tail, in reflections on the surface of the water, but I can no longer feel the scales on my face. I suspect that my appearance has changed in more ways than just my legs.”

“I can get a mirror,” Virgil says. “Wait here, okay?” He hurries to his bedroom and grabs the small mirror he uses to put on his eyeshadow before running back down to the laboratory. “This should work.”

Logan takes the mirror and holds it close to his face, squinting. “He’s definitely nearsighted,” Thomas mutters, poking at his phone screen. “I wonder if there’s anything we can do about that . . .”

Virgil is distracted by the soft happy noise that Logan makes, nose pressed so close to the mirror it’s almost touching. “Virgil! Look at my face! We match now!”

“What?” Logan looks up, eyes gleaming, and touches his cheek and nose. Where he’d previously had a mask-like band of dark blue scales (which Virgil suspects might double as electroreceptors), there is now a band of dense freckles. They thin on his forehead, clustering thickest under his eyes and splashed across the bridge of his nose.

“I have brown face scales just like you!” Logan’s joy is almost palpable, and his eyes are wide and sparkling. He is full of a pure, childlike wonder, and Virgil can’t stop the laughter bubbling up in his chest from flying through his throat and spilling into the air.

“They’re called freckles,” Virgil says happily, “and you’re right. We do match.”

“I am very happy that I match the first nice human I have ever met,” Logan says, grinning widely. Virgil can’t stop himself from smiling back, even with Thomas’s mocking facial expressions in the corner of his eye.

Yeah, he’s pretty damn happy about it, too.

#starshinewrites #lovely dark and deep #ldad #romantic analogical #sanders sides #platonic TLAMP

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echoes-of-the-clockwork · 4 years

Text

Book Three: Pestilence (Ignis x Reader) Chapter Twenty-Six

A/n: I want to apologize if this chapter feels like it ends abruptly. This is the last chapter for Pestilence and hopefully I didn't make it too bad. Love you all!!! ••••••••••••••••••••

"Iggy, get some rest," Gladio said. "I'll keep watch."

The strategist shook his head. "Morosely, I cannot seek slumber as the situation stands." He sat on a chair by the bed (Y/n) currently lied on. With his good eye, he examined her still lifeless, dull (e/c) eyes. Her body was freezing and there was no sign of a pulse. Her chest didn't rise and fall, signaling she wasn't breathing. Every now and then, he would lean forward and place his gloved hand against her cheek. His fingers caressed her deathly pale cheeks before trailing down to her neck to check for a pulse. The blood that tainted his gloves dried a little while ago.

The shield stood from his seat, passing by Noctis and Prompto, who were fast asleep. He placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. "I'll watch over her while you get some rest. You think she would let you lose sleep over her?"

Ignis sighed. "Yes, you're right." He stood up, feeling the exhaustion he'd been keeping at bay consume his entire being. "Awake me the moment she regains consciousness."

"Will do."

The tactician dragged his body over to one of the vacant beds and made himself comfortable. It only took him a few minutes to fall asleep.

Gladio returned to his seat once seeing Ignis was fast asleep. He crossed his arms, leaning against the back of the chair as his eyes were trained on the door. He tuned in to any little sound, wondering if it was an approaching enemy or something not worth his attention. He was just exhausted as the others, but he knew they needed to rest.

After an hour, Gladio felt his exhaustion catching up to him. It was becoming difficult for him to keep his eyes open. His eyelids were drooping, but he shook his head to stave off the temptation to fall asleep. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to stay up for much longer. His eyes slowly closed, but they shot open when he heard coughing. Looking over at the culprit, he stood up from his seat and approached them.

(Y/n), who hung off the side of the bed as she expelled the water trapped in her lungs, heard Gladio's footfalls and looked up at him. When she tried to speak to him, she broke out into another coughing fit. She placed a hand over her chest and noticed the dry blood on her clothes. "What...?"

The brute sat down in the chair by the bed. "Wanna hear the short or long version?"

"Short, please," she whispered with a raspy tone.

Gladio told her about War and what she'd done to free her from the dark entity. He disregarded the smaller details and only covered the major ones. He stared at her face and waited for a reaction, but he was flabbergasted when he didn't receive one. "You're taking this pretty well."

"Yes, well..." She glanced down at her blood-covered chest. "80 years of being a Horseman has numbed some of my emotions."

"Guess I should wake Iggy and tell him the good news." Gladio stood up and began walking toward the sleeping strategist.

(Y/n) stopped him before he could disturb Ignis. "Let him rest, Gladio." She pushed herself off the bed, her stride weak and delayed as she made her way across the room. "You also should get some rest."

"I'm not the one who had my chest ripped open," He retorts. "I'll be fine."

"You say that now, but this decision will come back to haunt you the moment we're forced into battle." She looked over her shoulder at him. "Must I induce a sleeping spell or are you willingly going to rest?"

Gladio was too exhausted to argue and sighed, holding his hands up in surrender. "Fine. You win."

"Good," she smiled feebly. She turned her gaze to the door, listening to the brute as he climbed into one of beds to rest. Once he had fallen asleep, she turned around and wandered over toward Ignis. Carefully, she reached out toward his face and caressed her fingers across the remains of the scar tainting the left side of his face. She could tell the remedy had worked, but it wasn't enough for it to completely heal.

Curious, (Y/n) used her healing ability to see if she could heal the remaining scar. As her hand was consumed by a pale green essence, she could feel the remedy's presence still lingering inside his body. She prayed to the Astrals that her magic would be enough to activate the residual particles and help heal him. She cleared her mind and focused on the scar, but it only took a few seconds for her magic to cease and her a wave of nausea to wash over her. Her healing incantation ceased as she pressed a hand against her aching head, closing her eyes. Just a small healing spell was enough to wear her out.

Pestilence opened her eyes and looked down at the scar. She sighed in frustration when seeing it only receded a couple inches. A frown found its way upon her face, walking away from Ignis and toward the mechanical door. It made a low 'hiss' as it opened. The Horseman glanced back at the four slumbering boys before exiting the room.

<----------<<<<<

Ignis was the first to awaken. When his eyes opened, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. His vision was clear as crystal. He could see everything. Lifting his hand to his face, he traced his fingers around his eyes. The scars were still there around his left eye, but they were slowly receding. He continued to look around, overjoyed his eyesight had returned to both eyes. However, he soon realized one person was missing from their party-(Y/n).

Pushing himself out of bed, Ignis got to his feet and scanned the room a second time for the Horseman. As he tried to think of where she could've gone, Noctis, Gladio, and Prompto woke up. The three noticed how the advisor was standing in the middle of the room with no cane in his grasp.

Prompto was the first to question him. "Iggy, can you...see?"

"As clear as day," he replied.

"Guess (Y/n)'s remedy really did work," Gladio commented. "Speaking of her, where the hell is she?"

Noctis glances over at the bed the Horseman once laid upon. Prompto did the same and asked, "Shouldn't we go look for her?"

Just as the question rolled off his tongue, the door slid open. Pestilence sauntered in with a heavy sigh. She froze when lifting her head and seeing all eyes were on her. "You all seem somewhat well-rested. Are you ready to venture forth in search of the Crystal?"

"Y'know, for someone who was dead earlier, you're pretty calm," Noctis said.

"Yes, well, it's not the first nor the last time it will happen."

"Where did you go?" Prompto wondered.

"I wandered a ways down the corridor in search of my staff. Morosely, I have yet to locate it," she answered.

"About that..." Noctis held out his hand and summoned the girl's staff. "I found it on the train." He gave it to her without hesitation.

(Y/n) took her staff from him. "Thank you, Noctis." She tapped the end of the staff against the floor, a ring of pale green light pulsating from it. The boys felt their injuries and weariness vanish after the ring dissipated. "Shall we proceed forth?"

"Let's get this over with," Noctis stated.

The five left the dormitory and continued their perilous search for the Crystal. As they fought against magiteks and daemons, Pestilence couldn't help but notice Ignis' movements were smooth and precise.

After their skirmish with enemies, she approached him. "Ignis, your eye sight... Has it returned in full?"

"It has," he responded, dispelling his daggers.

She sighed in relief with a smile. "Thank the Astrals..."

"This was no miracle from the Astrals but a marvel of your own doing, my dear. It is by your benevolent hands I am once again able to see."

"I am relieved the remedy worked in its entirety." She reaches up and traces the scars that remained around his left eye. "The scars will still need more time to heal. I could try a fourth treatment if you'd like once there's time."

Before Ignis could reply, a familiar sensation of dread washed over the Horseman. She stepped away from the strategist and placed a protective barrier around everyone. As the barrier was erected, the draugr she'd been hunting manifested from an inky puddle on the floor. Her eyes widen in horror when seeing it had mutated. It now had three heads and its body towered over them. An assortment of weapons protruded from its body and it was no longer limited to just swords. The stench of its rotten flesh caused her stomach to churn slightly.

Pestilence transformed her staff into a set of chakrams as she stepped out of the barrier. Facing the draugr, she watched as it yanked an axe and broadsword from its decaying flesh. Before it could swing its weapons, she tossed one of her chakrams and sliced off its hands. "You four must locate the Crystal. I shall deal with this monstrosity and rejoin you soon."

"You're really gonna fight that thing on your own?" Prompto asked, eyes glued to the monstrous corpse.

"Yes." She caught her chakram just as the draugr's hands regenerated and picked up its weapons. "There is no need to worry. I can handle this on my lonesome."

"Don't keep us waiting too long," Noctis said before he, Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis took off.

Pestilence kept her attention focused on the draugr. She watched its movements closely, dodging its attacks and searching for an opening in order to strike. Using her surroundings as an advantage, she managed to lure the draugr toward one of the thick metal walls. At the last second, she dodged the corpse's attack and looked back to see its weapons were lodged into the metal wall. She smirked once seeing her plan worked. Tossing both chakrams, she sliced off the draugr's arms and legs.

Acting quickly, Pestilence caught the chakrams and switched to her staff. She casted an ice spell and froze the draugr's appendages to prevent them from regenerating. The three-headed corpse cried out as its body fell to the floor.

Switching back to chakrams, (Y/n) leapt onto the draugr's body. She raised both crescent-shaped blades and focused her sight on its chest. As she went to slice into its flesh, a third arm sprouted from its side and grabbed her by the throat. She choked at the sudden pressure around her neck, her body being lifted up into the air.

Pestilence used her chakrams to slice off the draugr's arm. She fell to the floor and pried the hand off her neck. She tossed the appendage aside, hopping to her feet in order to attack the monster again. However, she became petrified when more arms and legs sprouted from its body. A black, tar-like substance dripped from its six eyes as it screeched out, yanking more weapons from its body to arm itself.

The draugr lunges forward and swung all its weapons at the Horseman. She managed to dodge all the weapons except for the javelin. It pierced her shoulder and pinned her to the floor, causing her to drop her chakrams in the process. She gritted her teeth and attempted to dislodge the javelin from her shoulder. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to due to the position she was in.

(Y/n), in haste, summoned her chakrams and sliced through the shaft of the javelin. Now sliced in half, she could easily remove the portion that was still embedded in her shoulder. She removed it just in time to dodge the draugr. Unbeknownst to the Horseman, she didn't realize the damage done to the floor from its previous attack.

When the draugr's second attack clashed against the floor because Pestilence dodged, it shattered. The floor disappeared from underneath both of them, causing them to fall.

(Y/n)'s eyes widen as she and her enemy fell. She felt as if her body was suspended in air due to how far they were falling. Wondering what she could do, she looked around desperately. Only one idea came to mind when her eyes landed on the draugr. She released one of her chakrams and latched onto its body, climbing towards its chest. It tried to grab her, but she ducked and quickly jammed her other chakram into its chest. It wailed out in pain, the curved blade slicing deeply.

Before Pestilence could destroy the draugr's heart, she and it slammed against the floor. She quickly regained her bearings and focused on its heart while it was stunned from the impact. Using both chakrams, she sliced deeper and deeper into its flesh in order to reach its heart. Once she did, she dealt the killing blow by slicing its heart in two. Her eyes never left the draugr's body as she listened to its dying wails and watched its form melt into a black puddle. She dispelled her chakrams with an exhausted sigh.

(Y/n) glances at her injured shoulder, watching it slowly mend. She rolled her shoulder once it was healed. Looking around the area, she saw nothing familiar and wasn't sure where she currently was inside Zegnautus Keep.

Before the Horseman could contemplate on her next move, she felt a familiar tug on her body. Seeing as the draugr was annihilated, she heeded the call of the summoning orb and teleported.

Arriving at where the others were inside Zegnautus Keep, Pestilence looked around and saw the devastated faces of Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis. Confused, she asked, "What happened?"

The advisor was seemingly the calmest out of the three and told her what happened with the Crystal, Noctis, and Ardyn. She listened closely when he mentioned how Noctis was absorbed into the Crystal and the disturbing nature Ardyn showed.

Once he finished explaining, she casted her gaze downward. She wasn't sure what to do or say to help them. She knew just how much Noctis meant to each and every one of them. Crossing her arms, she sighed, "We should leave. It's not safe here."

Ignis nodded in agreement. "A prompt exit should be our next maneuver."

"Let's get the hell outta here," Gladio said.

Prompto remained silent as he and the others searched for a way out of Zegnautus Keep. When they managed to do just that, they wondered how they'd escape the empire and head back to Lucis.

After hours of wondering how'd they get back to Lucis, they were approached by a familiar figure who landed in an imperial drop ship nearby. It was Aranea. With her help, they were able to fly back to Lucis.

Landing near Lestallum, (Y/n) watched the three boys walk away from each other. In their stead, she thanked the ex-mercenary. Once the drop ship was gone, her gaze fell upon the city. With a disheartened sigh, she casted her melancholic gaze toward the ground. "Darkness has attained victory this day, but it will not win the war."

<-----------<<<<<

Four years passed by. Darkness reigned over Eos and daemons ran rampant. The Four Horseman found themselves busy protecting the daemon king himself from his subordinates.

(Y/n), along with War, Death, Famine, and King Aeshema, was currently held up inside the castle within the Inner Sanctum. The daemon king's own castle was unsafe and the horsemen decided to bring him to their abode in the Inner Sanctum.

Finally having a peaceful moment, Death pulled Pestilence aside. The sable-haired girl eyed her sister with a questioning glance. "You should head back to Eos."

(Y/n) blinked in bewilderment. "What is the meaning of this, Death?"

"It's been four year since darkness consumed all and the daemons broke free from Hell to terrorize Eos. During those four years, you haven't once visited Ignis. Right now would be the perfect moment to see him. War, Famine, and I will keep a watch on His Majesty while you're gone. The three of us can handle protection duty for a while."

"It has been quite a while, hasn't it?" Pestilence murmured. "It would be nice to see him again."

"Then what're you waiting for?" Death smiled. "Go on! Even King Aeshema has given you permission to leave."

"I will be back soon."

With King Aeshema's blessing, (Y/n) returned to Eos. She arrived in Hammerhead and saw the large fence surrounding it. The bright lights kept the daemons at bay, allowing people to enter and leave Hammerhead as they pleased without the fear of being attacked.

She had no issues walking through the entrance that was guarded by hunters. Immediately, she searched for Ignis. When she couldn't find him, she asked one of the hunters and learned he'd be back shortly. To pass the time, she found herself prowling the perimeter of the fence. Eventually, she stopped as her eyes focused on the large daemons in the distance.

Pestilence's attention was drawn away from the daemons when hearing her name being called. Turning around, she smiled at the person who called out to her. "It has been quite some time, Ignis. You seem to be doing well." She analyzed his appearance and noted the many changes he's made in the past few years. "I've heard you've been rather busy during your time as a hunter. The daemons have proven to be a nuisance."

"They have, indeed," Ignis said. "Do pray tell what has had your attention these past few years, (Y/n)."

"Protection detail. The daemon king has been taken into the horsemen's custody for protection against his subordinates. He and my sisters await in the Inner Sanctum. It is the safest place for His Majesty at the moment." She placed a hand on her hip. "Pushing duties aside, I see the scars have healed well."

"Only because of your remedy." Ignis reaches out and took her hand in his. "I will never be able to express how grateful I am for what you've done, darling."

"Please, Ignis, you've thanked me enough." (Y/n) gazed into his emerald eyes and could see how exhausted he was. "You need to rest. Hunting daemons is an exhausting job."

The strategist released her hand and moved his own to her cheek. He gazed into her (e/c) eyes, reluctant to leave in fear she'd disappear if he were to sleep. "I desire to spend more time in your company."

She laughed after seeing the tint of worry in his eyes. Placing her hand over the one he had on her cheek, she offered him a gentle smile. "There's no need to be concerned. I shall be here when you wake."

"I shall hold you to your word."

The couple exchanged a sweet, loving kiss before parting ways. (Y/n) watched the door of the caravan close behind Ignis with a smile. "Sleep well, my love."

•••••••••••END••••••••••••

#ffxv x reader #ffxv #final fantasy xv x reader #final fantasy xv #ignis x reader #ignis scientia #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #Noctis Lucis Caelum

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el-gilliath · 4 years

Text

I Will Survive

Well damn, who would've thought something like this could happen at 4am (Norwegian time). So beware of any spelling errors, please and thank you.

As always, dedicated to my lovely @lsobelevans. I’m sorry it took me so damn long lol

BE AWARE of violence in this chapter. None graphic, but you do see aftermath

Ao3

He hasn’t stopped thinking about the kiss. Of Cowboy’s lips on his. Of his hands on his skin. Of the gorgeous hazel of his eyes. Of the face he can’t remember.

He realized quickly that Influence is probably the reason he can’t remember, it seems like something that is within her abilities. A part of him is glad, he doesn’t want to remember Cowboy’s face until he knows his name, and he does remember the feel of his gorgeous curls between his fingers. It felt good to run his hands through them, it’ll feel good when he gets to do it again.

After getting Cowboy out of the hands of the Russians, the bond, the connection, between them felt more profound. Kissing him made it even more so. Alex can feel it, in a way, the connection underneath his skin.

He also knows how dangerous it is, how many people who would love to use him as bait for Cowboy, should their tentative thing be known. Everyone and their mother has warned him about it, including Liz (who is very publicly dating Detective Max Evans and not Electrobuzz), Maria (who knows all the shit that happens in the vigilante world), and Kyle (that did not go over well). Even Arturo has given him the worried face and soft spanish proverbs, even though he doesn’t need them. None of them understands that being Jesse Manes’ youngest child has put him in the spotlight and kept him there for years.

No matter how much Jesse hates his son, he wouldn’t stand for anyone giving him the dishonor of taking his son. It’s the one thing he can count on more than anything when it comes to his dad, he doesn’t like dishonor. If nothing else, Alex will appreciate that about his dad, no matter how much shit he gets for it. It also means that he knows Jesse will come for him, even if it’s only for the glory of having rescued his son and not because of Alex himself.

Which is why he’s not afraid when he finds himself being dragged into a car as he leaves the Post on a Wednesday afternoon, Rosa screaming “No!” as his eyes meet hers when they take a hold of his arms and kick his legs out from under him so he can’t really resist. He just lets himself be dragged into the van, giving Rosa as much of a reassuring look as he can. He doesn’t want her to be afraid for him, even if he knows she probably will be.

He’s fairly sure he knows exactly where they’re taking him anyway.

The kidnappers throw him into the back of the way, screaming at him in broken english to sit down and shut up. They scream that if he makes any trouble they’ll kill him. Alex knows that they won’t, but he still nods, curling together like he’s frightened, like he’s cowering. He’s not, fear isn’t something he feels lightly anymore but he has to protect his leg. If they take that then he’s gonna have one hell of a harder time with everything. Thankfully the men only scowl at him behind ski-masks as they drive off. He closes his eyes, counting seconds and minutes to try to find out where they’re going, listening out for the murmuring that’s happening in the van with him.

He knows he’s right when the driver starts talking louder in russian, when they slow down after about 20minutes. They’re in the Russian compound. And he’s probably gonna meet Mr. Serkoff again, after getting the diamonds off of his hands. The diamonds he decidedly did not give his father.

He’s about to be in a bigger heap of trouble than he’s been in a while.

He’s roughly pulled from the car a few minutes after they stop, pushed ahead so quickly he barely has time to put his feet under him. His leg pulls in the wrong side of comfortable and he bites the inside of his cheek not to cry out. Instead he straightens himself, stands tall and walks into the lion's den. He ignores the pushing, he ignores the yelling. He’ll face this on his own terms, not on theirs.

He’s taken to a back office in the Diamond Storage and roughly shoved into a chair in front of a huge oak desk, where Serkoff is sitting watching his men’s rough handling with a bored look on his face. Anyone not good at reading faces wouldn’t see the underlying anger, the fury.

Alex Manes grew up with Jesse Manes. He’s seen more anger than he ever wants too.

“Mr. Manes.”

“Mr. Serkoff,” Alex replies. He makes sure his voice is calm, collected. He needs to stay strong. “I don’t think taking me right outside the Post was the smartest idea you ever had.”

“Perhaps not. But I doubt you are surprised to find yourself back here again.” The anger turns obvious, a snarl on the russians face. “You took my diamonds, Mr. Manes. And you did not deliver them to your father. He was not… pleased. And as a result, I am not pleased.”

Alex just looks at him. He hitches a brow slightly as if to say ‘get on with it’. He might not be the good little cop boy his father wants him to be, but that doesn’t mean he’s not capable. And right now he needs to be a Manes.

“He told me he never sent you to get the diamonds. That he would never.” The chilling grin is the first sign. “He told me to do whatever I wanted to you. He would rather find your corpse, than to find you alive.”

It breaks his heart, just a little, to hear that. But he also knows it’s not true.

“If you hadn’t taken me very publicly that would be true. But you did. My father might hate me, Mr. Serkoff, but he won’t stand for slights on his honor.” Alex’s top lip curls upwards in a parody of a smile. “Taking his son like that? His disabled son which the public thinks he loves? You can’t imagine the outrage.”

Something flickers in the burly Russians eyes. Almost like compassion. Almost like understanding. It disappears fast behind the mask of indifference.

“Give me my diamonds.”

“I don’t have them.”

Serkoff visibly bites his tongue, hard, most likely to stop himself from speaking too early. Alex understands him better than he wants to at that moment.

“Exactly how much does my father have on you, Mr. Serkoff,” Alex asks. The snort in response wasn’t what he expected.

“Your father has nothing on me, Mr. Manes. I deal with him because I want to, not because I have to.” Well shit. “And if you do not have my diamonds, I have no need of you.”

The knowledge that he means exactly what he’s saying churns inside Alex’s stomach. He has nothing to stop this, unless he gives up the diamonds. The problem is that he’s not lying, he doesn’t have them. But he does know where they are.

He also knows that giving them up would be the end.

“What if I could make you a deal?” Alex asks. Giving up the diamonds would be the end, but he can give him something different, something that might be worth more.

“And what kind of a deal would that be?”

“In exchange for me walking out of here, I could give you information. Information my dad probably doesn't want you to have.”

“And how would that benefit me?”

“When I take him down, I’ll keep your name out of it.” Alex takes a deep breath. “And in the end you’ll have your diamonds back.”

Serkoff looks at him in a way Alex is intimately familiar with, having grown up in the Manes household, like he’s a bug he wants to squash. But there’s also interest, a curiosity that Alex can’t help but feel hopeful about. If he can convince this burly russian that he can give him valuable information he might have a chance. It also means that his rig at the Pony will be brushing off the dust in a way he promised he wouldn’t do any more.

“Your offer is interesting,” Serkoff replies. “But you stole my diamonds, Mr. Manes. For that I cannot just let you leave.”

It’s the last thing he remembers as he’s hit in the head with a gun.

———

Pain. Harsh spoken russian words. The glint of a knife. Pain.

------

He wakes up, doesn’t know how much later, alone in a room. He’s on a bed, prosthetic still on. His head is pounding, his stomach is on fire, his hands filled with tiny cuts. It hurts, but he knew this was a possibility. It’s not like he hasn’t suffered worse before.

“Mr. Manes.”

He jumps, his heart hammering in his chest. His spatial awareness comes rushing back, recognizing the fact that the door’s been opened and that Serkoff is now in the room with him. He’s thankfully standing by the door, making no moves to come closer. It makes Alex’s heart settle a litte.

“Mr. Serkoff. Done beating me up?”

“Yes,” the russian replies, simple as that. Maybe it is. “Now tell me about the information you can give me.”

Alex swallows. “Will you let me go if I do?”

“I will. I could not let you go without some retaliation. My own people would think me weak if I did, but now I can. If you give me the information. From what my sources tell me, the youngest Manes is a very good hacker.” Serkoff grimaces. “I was also told hacking was how you lost your leg.”

“Yeah. It was. Doesn’t mean I’m not good at it.”

“On the contrary Mr. Manes, for you to have lost your leg you must have been very good, for someone to want to hurt you that much.”

“My dad is the reason I lost my leg, Mr. Serkoff.” Alex sighs, worn and tired. “Maybe now you understand why I want to stop him.”

Serkoff doesn’t say anything, but Alex recognizes the look in his eyes. It’s the look of someone who does understand, it makes the look in his eyes earlier make all the more sense. He knows exactly what Alex is talking about, probably better than Alex thinks he does.

“And you will keep me and my men out of it.”

“I will. I can’t keep the russian mob out of it completely, but I’ll try.”

“And I will get my diamonds?” Serkoff asks, and Alex just nods. His body is starting to shut down, in pain and aching. Talking is starting to become too much. “Good. I will get you a scapegoat, someone who should be taken down with your father. Now rest, your friend will be here soon.”

Alex opens his mouth to ask who said friend is, but he doesn’t have the chance before Serkoff nods sternly and walks out of the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Alex to his own thoughts. Alone, deep in the diamond storage with the russian mob. A friend coming soon.

He really hopes Cowboy or Influence didn’t get themselves involved.

Still he lays back down and rests. He probably doesn’t have to fight his way out but he still wants to get some strength back. Even if that strength is skin deep, allowing himself to rest so he can walk out on his own is enough. Serkoff and his men are not someone you want to appear weak in front of. Especially if he’s going to have somewhat of a working relationship with them.

He doesn’t know how much time passes as he rests, lost in his own thoughts of where he needs to move his rig (he can’t keep it at the Pony just in case someone traces it back to him), how he’s going to keep Arturo from finding out (he already knows how mad Arturo would be, after how frightened he was the last time) and who’s coming to get him (he’s going to kill whoever it is for walking voluntarily into the compound).

Which is why he startles (spatial awareness, come on) when the door bangs open.

“Hermano, you better be alive on that bed so that I can kill you myself.”

He huffs a laugh, of course it’s Rosa. A spitfire latina would be the only one crazy enough to come get him in the middle of the russian mob and threaten murder.

“I’m fine, Rosa. Just resting,” he answers, smiling in amusement as her glowering only increases. He’s still thankful for the way she stalks over and throws herself down on him, hugging him tightly.

“I was so scared when they took you,” she whispers as he hugs her back, mindful of his aches. “I even called Maria and you know I prefer when she comes to me.”

“I appreciate your sacrifice,” he whispers back. Even though they both know that Rosa’s burgeoning interest in Maria means they’ve called upon each other half a dozen times (if not more) since the night at the Pony. Though he’s pretty sure Rosa actually prefers it when Maria does come to her. And when she doesn’t have to call her to find someone else.

“You better. I’m in Maria’s debt now, I don’t like being in anyone's debt.”

“I know. But you can get a date out of it?”

“Vato, don’t you even-

“Okay! Okay” Alex interrupts her with a laugh that turns into a cough. “Thanks for coming.”

“When the Russian mob calls and tells you to come to their secret base to pick up your best friend, who they just kidnapped you kinda go,” Rosa answers, grumbling into his chest. Alex just holds her tighter, squeezing her in his version of a thanks. Something he knows she understands, none of them are big on talking about their feelings in high strung environments. “Speaking of the Russian mob…”

“Yeah, no, I’m not telling you here. Later, okay?

“Si,” Rosa replies. “But you better tell me.”

“I will. But we need to get going.”

Rosa nods and gets up, pulling Alex with her. Standing is painful, but he can put pressure on the prosthetic without problems, meaning Serkoss left it well enough alone. It helps him move out of his own power. He's grateful for that much at least.

They walk out of the compound easily after that. All the Russian men are gone, vanished from their vicinity. Alex knows, he uses all the tricks in his books to look for them, as they move out to where Rosa’s car is parked. He looks back one more time before he gets in, and catches Serkoff watching them. He nods, a gesture of respect Alex didn’t expect. Still, he nods back and gets into the car.

“Where too?”

He looks over at Rosa. “The Pony. I have some business to take care of.”

He’s never felt more relaxed putting his back to the bad man than he does when they drive out of the parking lot and set course for the Pony.

The car ride is quiet, something Alex is grateful for. It gives him a chance to rest some more, leaning back into the comfy seat of Rosa’s car and closing his eyes. He breathes deeply and evenly as he listens to Rosa’s ever present grumblings about traffic.

He nods off, just a little, waking again as he hears Rosa call Maria and tell them they’re coming. Good, he doesn’t need the hassle of scared Super’s today.

Which proves to be his famous last thought as they walk into the Pony and Cowboy is there. Frantic with worry. Alex watches him with a surprised look as he walks back and forth over the Pony floor, rambling to himself with his mask on, but hat off, not listening to a word Maria says. Maria meets his gaze with an exasperated look on her face, tilting her head slightly to where Influence, Electrobuzz and Kyle are arguing loudly amongst themselves. He watches them with an artificial detachment he wills into being. He can’t afford to care. Especially now that he has a job to do.

“Cowboy.” He speaks the word clearly, a bit louder than he usually would. He needs his attention.

He’s not expecting to get the attention of everyone. Even Liz appears from the back room, cursing up a storm when she sees his bruised face. And Liz cursing starts the rest of them, besides Maria who just watches him and Kyle who walks over to Alex and silently asks permission to check him out. Alex looks at him and Kyle backs away, knowing that it’ll have to wait. Their friendship might not be all good, but their communication still works perfectly.

“Stop!” Maria yells. Miraculously it works. “This is my bar, and this is Alex’s safe space. Let him fucking breathe.”

“DeLuca-”

“No,” Maria interrupts, sending a vicious look Cowboy’s way. Alex can’t help that a tiny particle of him appreciates the way she makes him flinch. “Alex, please let Kyle take you in the back and make sure you’re okay. Please.”

Alex watches her, the way they listen to her speak even as they shoot him glances and he’s so proud. So proud of her and the woman she’s become since her mother died, since she took over the Pony and started protecting the people that might need it the most and the least at the same time. Maria DeLuca is a savior, though he really hopes that one day she will let someone Rosa save her right back. No one deserves it more than her.

He nods at her, shooting Kyle a look as well before he walks towards the backroom. He can feel Cowboy watching him as he moves but he’ll worry about that later. Right now he needs to focus on something else.

“Does it hurt anywhere?” Kyle asks as he closes the door. Alex just shoots him a look. “I mean worse than anywhere else.”

“No.”

“How about your stomach?”

“No.”

“Your leg?”

“No.”

“Damnit, Alex!” Kyle yells, startling both of them. “Just… Just please answer me properly.”

Alex runs a hand through his hair, sighing deeply as he does. Time to treat Kyle like a doctor, and not an enemy. “My leg is fine, they didn’t touch it. Stomach is sore but seems fine. My head is killing me and my face is probably starting to get a real nice shiner. I’m fine, Kyle.”

“Only you would be kidnapped and beat up and say you’re fine,” Kyle mutters angrily and Alex can’t help but huff out a laugh. He has a point.

“You want me to apologize instead?”

“No. I just want you to stay safe.” Kyles gives him a look. “Within the range of safe at least.”

Alex rolls his eyes but doesn’t answer. Kyle knows him well enough to know that the Manes range of safety isn’t the same as everyone else's. Kyle snorts in derision at the eye roll but doesn’t say anything else either, preferring to finish looking Alex over in silence. Alex finds himself grateful for the familiarity and that they don’t need to talk. He might not have completely forgiven Kyle yet, but Kyle knowing what he needs and when to shut up helps. Maybe more than he thought it would, since it was Kyle opening his mouth that destroyed them the first time.

“Thank, Kyle,” he says, as Kyle moves back with a satisfied nod some minutes later.

“Any time,” Kyle replies as he packs away the nicely stocked first aid kit Maria has in the back room. “Want me to send in Cowboy?”

“No. I need to talk to Maria first.”

Kyle gives him a look of slight surprise, but nods before he goes through the door to the front of the pub. Alex waits until Maria joins him a minute later.

“You okay?” She asks, walking over to him and gently cupping his face in her hands. Her eyes are alight with worry, her frame tense in a way she usually isn’t.

“I’m fine, Maria. That was a necessary meeting.”

“Meeting? Alex, they kidnapped you!”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “But now I have an ally against my father.”

“Is that what this is about, your dad?” Maria asks.

“No. It’s about keeping them safe,” he answers, nodding towards the front of the bar. “Kyle, Liz, Rosa. Cowboy, your siblings. You.”

Maria huffs. “My secret siblings out there can take care of themselves, as can Cowboy, the rest of them and me. I’ve been the unofficial Super bar for years Alex, the police can’t take me down for shit.”

“They can if my rig is here. Especially if it’s in use.”

He sees it happen the second it dawns on her, the second she understands just why he’s calling it a meeting.

“You can’t do that. The last time you hacked you lost your leg,” she says with frightening calm. “If you do and your father finds out again you’ll lose your life!”

“I will. But this time I have the Russian mob at my back.”

She just stares at him, eyes wide and wild with indignation and a fair bit of the classical ‘are you crazy’ look. But there’s no question, she knows that he’s serious. She also knows she can’t talk him out of it, like she couldn’t the last time.

“You better be careful,” she says through clenched teeth when she finally does speak, marching over and laying a hard kiss on his forehead before she walks out without a word. Probably best, so neither of them starts to cry. Matia saw him at his worst after he lost his leg, he knows she has a right to be scared but he’ll be more careful this time. He has to be.

“Alex?” Cowboy asks as he walks through the door. He looks worried, scared even. “Can I come on?”

“Yeah, come in,” Alex replies. Cowboy comes in slowly. His hat and mask is on, but Alex doesn’t mind. He never minds, especially now that he has to do what he does.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replies. “The Russians are pretty pissed, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.

“Is this because-“

“No. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

Cowboy clearly doesn’t believe him, if the way he purses his lips is any indication. “Sure, I get stuck in their compound, you go in and use your name, and not two weeks later you get kidnapped and beaten up!”

“That was because-“

“And now you want to work with them? And hack for them when you lost your leg because of it the first time? How can you be so st-“

“Hey!” Alex interrupts. “You do not get to call me stupid, Cowboy. I got into trouble because of my dad, not because of you. It's my choice, not yours.”

He watches Cowboy bite his tongue, clenching his fists tightly in obvious annoyance. But he doesn’t say anything, breathing deeply for a few minutes before he relaxes his fists, his jaw following. Alex understands how he feels, he does, but Cowboy isn’t his keeper of any kind. He makes his own decisions.

“You don’t get to decide when you run around New York as a vigilante, protecting people left and right with no regards to yourself. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

He doesn’t expect Cowboy to kiss him. He just walks over, takes Alex’s face in his hands and kisses him. It’s sloppy, this side of too hard and feral, just a little bit painful to Alex’s bruised face. It’s perfect.

“Shit, I’m sorry. You’re hurt,” Cowboy says, pulling away.

Alex shakes his head, keeping him in place. “It’s perfect, please don't stop.”

Cowboy seems sceptical, but Alex doesn’t care. He pulls him back in, though he softens the kiss so it won’t hurt. Instead of hard it’s soft, instead of hurried it’s languid, instead of feral it’s tender. Painful turns way to heat, lazily curling up his spine and settling everywhere from his neck to his stomach. He sighs softly into the kiss, pulling Cowboy infinitely closer.

“Alex. As much as I love having your lips on mine, you’re hurt,” Cowboy says as he pulls back again. “And we both know Maria will kill us if we do anything in this backroom.”

Alex groans. “You pick now to be sensible?”

“I pick now to be scared of your best friend. I’m just… breaking. Not saying no.”

Alex sighs, nodding because he knows Cowboy is right. He also does have to remember that he doesn’t actually know who Cowboy is, yet.

“I need help, moving my rig back home. Will you help me?”

Cowboy gives him a long, hard look. It feels soul searching in many ways, but Alex endures it. For him. He’s admittedly surprised when Cowboy nods, but grateful.

———

He find another piece of paper hidden under his keyboard the next day, with the letter A.

#roswell new mexico #malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #my fic #fic:vigilante au #cowboy - michael guerin #hints of maria/rosa

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winter-turtle · 3 years

Text

House Of Wolves - Chapter 2 - Winterturtle - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

Tony being human disaster.

Chapter 2: Endeavors And Disasters

The moving came as a surprise to Peter. Stark just showed up a few hours after dropping him off in his cell and then took him here. Instead of the dull grey, the walls here were white, not to mention without stains of suspicious origin like when Peter’s family was forced to squat somewhere and there was an actual bathroom this time. The only downside was that there was no door, but it was still a whole separate room.

Privacy.

Peter kept thinking about the interrogation session ever since it ended. It’s been hours and he couldn’t figure out what had possessed him to reveal his name, but he saw no real harm in it.

For all the world knew, the Parker family’s been dead for years. There was nothing in their name; no bank accounts, no cards, no phone numbers, so they really couldn’t link anything to them. Not even his parents’ clients didn’t know their real names as there was always different name per client. Only codenames remained the same.

And hey! For all the Avengers knew, he could have taken an advantage of a missing family’s identity-

The door opened, pulling Peter out of his musing.

“What the- why are you on the floor?”

Peter lazily blinked. “The mattress is too soft. I feel like I’m about to sink,” he replied flatly to very concerned-looking Stark.

“Uh, yeah, right,” the man rubbed the back of his neck in the same manner like Peter did when he was about to get sensory overload, “we can get a harder mattress if that’s what you prefer. Just please don’t sleep on the floor.”

Funny. Peter was used to sleeping on the floor. Though he preferred sleeping curled in the corner, sticking to the ceiling. He wasn’t sure if his spider part was responsible for that particular habit, but he felt the safest there.

Unfortunately, the option to sleep on the ceiling was taken away from him.

“What do you want?” Peter asked, not getting up from his spot. It was time for breakfast and yet he didn’t see any plate in the man’s hands. So, that’s how it was gonna be. Interrogation without-

Stark pointed to the hall behind him with his thumb. “Breakfast. Let’s go.”

Wait, what?

Peter sat up, confused. “Where?”

“The magic place where food is usually prepared and eaten, also known as,” he drummed his fingers in the air in dramatic pause, “the kitchen.”

“Why?”

The mechanic threw his head back. “Do you want to eat or not?”

Peter did, so he obliged.

Expecting the familiar force to pull his wrists behind his back, Peter put on his best defiant face. But nothing happened. Instead, Stark motioned for him to leave the room. Peter did and still nothing happened.

Were the bracelets faulty or something?

“Well, are you coming?”

“Didn’t you forget something?”

“Hmm, nope, I don’t think so,” Stark said as he walked, not waiting for the boy.

“Why isn’t he concerned about leaving me unrestrained?”Peter thought, going for light jog to catch up, confusion painting his features.

Pleasant smell wafted through the air the closer they got to the kitchen. Peter’s expression shifted into badly concealed curiosity. He sniffed the air once, twice, concluding that whatever was being made there, it smelled good enough to make his mouth water.

They entered and Peter could swear he saw several flashes of shocked expressions coming from the Avenger seated at the table before Stark had the chance to announce their presence. Rogers, standing in front of the stove, was the first one to break out from the stupor. He plastered his typical patriotic smile on his face. “Good morning, Peter.”

Peter gave him an unimpressed look in return. Stark motioned with his hand at the table, his hand barely missing Peter’s back.

His instincts briefly took over, making him stiffen in anticipation of the pain and ready to fight.

Peter, shoulders falling in relief when no touch came, took the nearest free chair, which was between Wilson and Barton. Barnes was opposite of him, looking at him in the way that kind of reminded Peter of the looks Stark sometimes gave him. “What?” he snapped.

Barnes’ expression shifted, this time into one that Peter recognized. Guilt. “Nothing. Sorry,” he mumbled, quickly averting his gaze.

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Peter kept staring at the man until Rogers placed a plate in front of him. “Here you go.”

All words died on his tongue, his eyes comically wide when he looked down. He hoped nobody noticed, but holy shit.In front of him laid nicely stacked perfectly round pancakes. And those were no regular pancakes.

They were chocolate chip!

His mouth began to water even more. Peter was basically an acid when it came to sweets. Chocolate was a rarity in his life. He only got it for special occasions like his birthday or if he did exceptionally well on a mission, or when he managed to find enough loose coins on the streets.

Peter dug right in. The heavenly taste of the chocolate spread across the tongue, the fluffy texture making it feel like he was chewing on a cloud. Hands down, these were the best pancakes he’s ever eaten. Honestly, they were so good it could make him start to consider switching the sides.

Kidding. He would never betray his parents. But the pancakes were still good.

“Do you like them?” Rogers asked.

Peter’s head snapped up, his stuffed cheeks dusting pink once he registered amused looks of the Avengers. “Yeah,” he forced out around the food before swallowing, “they’re alright. Thanks, Rogers.” Because he got some manners after all.

The man winced. “Just call me Steve, son.”

“Sure thing. Let me try again then. Thanks, Call-Me-Steve.”

Barton snorted, choking on the food in the process. Romanov slapped his back while, her mutter of the word ‘dumbass’almost drowned out by others’ laughter.

“Ah, you little shit,” Stark said as he wiped a tear from his eye, “I like you. Want some more pancakes?”

Peter shrugged, but mentally cheered. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” And sooner than he thought, he made it through another plate. Then he was offered another refill and then one more.

But… there was something odd to the taste. Something Peter couldn’t quite place, but it made his mouth a bit tingly. In the end, he just wrote it off as not being used to that much sugar and who knew what kind of special and expensive ingredients they could afford to buy.

He was halfway through the fourth serving when the questions started.

“Damn, do you have a bottomless pit instead of your stomach or something?” Stark asked. “I swear I’ve never seen someone keeping up with Rogers and Barnes when it comes to eating.”

Peter briefly considered pros and cons of telling the truth. Last time he gave them a piece of information about himself, he got an upgrade in accommodation. Maybe he’ll get another upgrade after this? Well… it was worth a try. “No, just fast metabolism.”

“How much food do you need?” Romanov asked.

Peter snorted. “More than a single sandwich.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Rogers asked.

Peter straightened his back and put on his most serious expression. “Hi, I’m Captain America. Whether you’re a student, or a soldier, there’s one thing that will always give you an edge,” he paused, one corner of his mouth rising slightly, “a hot lunch. You don’t have to be injected with secret government super soldier serum to have strong bones and muscles. A well-balanced diet is one of the best ways to keep your body healthy. The food pyramid will help you find the balance,” he finished with a mock salute before shoving another piece of pancake into his mouth. “You didn’t ask.”

Rogers grimaced. “They still show those?”

“Don’t know,” Peter shrugged. “I never went to school, but they’re all on the internet. But listen to me, Call-Me-Steve, what I’m trying to say is: save your PSAs for someone else, ‘cuz they sure as hell won’t work on me.”

Barnes chuckled, nudging Roger with his elbow. “What did you get roped into?”

“Okay, but am I the only one who finds it weird that he has the whole thing memorized?” Rhodes piped in.

“No, but I have different question,” Barton said as he leaned towards Peter, looking at him intently. Peter braced himself. Here it was. The questioning.

“What did Tony do to make you talk in just one sitting?”

Peter blinked twice. That was… surprisingly petty. “He’s… annoying. Don’t take me wrong, you’re annoying too, but he’s special brand of annoying.”

“Geez, thanks kid. I take that as a compliment.”

“So, you did it to shut him up?”

“Yep.”

As it turned out, four plates were his limit. Peter released long, satisfied sigh. Wow. He didn’t remember the last time his stomach felt so full. He only got to eat that much before missions to ensure he was in top condition, which-

Peter frowned. Now come to think of it, he got no extra food before this mission.

“Kid… that’s called abuse.”

That was- no. No!

“…hurting their own children is not something normal parents do.”

There was no way they wanted to… get rid of him. No, they were just waiting for the right moment to strike.

“Same as they came for you in the past three weeks?”

Yeah, that had to be it. So, shoving away the statements that wormed their way under his skin and getting rid of that train of thoughts, Peter focused on the pleasant feeling of his full stomach.

It would be better if the strange tingling left though. It stubbornly lingered in his mouth even after two glasses of water. Oh well. He would trade the slight discomfort for full stomach anytime.

He was led back to his room when the Avengers started to clean the table. He didn’t mind, strangely.

Maybe… maybe they weren’t so bad after all.

Peter’s stomach churned. He wrote it off as being full after such a long time.

“See?” Tony held his head high, the proud feeling radiating off of him. “It worked.”

So early and he was already on a good track. The change of the room and good food – plus the new mattress, but that one had yet to arrive – were only the beginning. He just returned from the gym where he was putting everything that could be used as a weapon away. He assumed the kid would appreciate some physical activity after weeks of confinement.

“He wasn’t even his usual rude self! Well, for the most part. I think he was just cranky because he was hungry.”

“Don’t celebrate in advance,” Natasha warned, “or you’ll jinx it.”

“Me? Jinx it? Please,” Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m practically a lucky charm of this team. Seriously, what could go wrong?”

“Boss,” Friday’s voice came from the speaker, interrupting his boasting. “Peter has been throwing up for the past ten minutes.”

“You were saying?” Rhodey deadpanned after a moment of dead silence.

“Shut up.”

There was no sign of the kid or the pancakes when he opened the door to the kid’s room/cell. “Peter?” Tony called out. A dry heave coming from the bathroom prompted him to move.

The sight that greeted him made his expression fall instantly. The poor kid was hunched over the toilet, shaking like a leaf, his face pale and sweat plastering his messy curls to his forehead. “Oh, kiddo,” Tony said sadly. He kneeled next to the boy, placed his hand on Peter’s back and began to rub soothing circles on his back.

The kid tensed. “Don’t touch—” Another round of his stomach turning itself inside out cut off the threat.

Tony grimaced. Well, there were those pancakes. Reluctantly, he let go, hoping that his presence alone would be enough to provide at least some comfort. After what could have been three minutes, the heaving stopped.

“You assholes poisoned me,” the kid accused weakly.

“What? No, no, no,” Tony was quick to deny, “you were there with us, we all ate the same thing and we’re alright. There was no way someone poisoned you. Why would we ruin Cap’s famous chocolate chip and mint pancakes and made you sick?”

“Mint?! You- bleh.”

And the heaving was back. Honestly, Tony wondered how the kid managed to bring something up after he’s been praying to the porcelain goddess for so long. But… mint? “What’s up with mint?”

The sound of Clint smacking his forehead echoed in the small bathroom. “Spiders don’t like mint. Laura uses it to keep the little buggers out,” he added when the team sent him questioning looks. “And he ate four plates of those pancakes.”

“Leave,” the kid rasped out.

“Kid, I don’t think—”

“Leave!” Peter said more forcefully before he shoved his head into the toilet once more.

Tony, although reluctantly, stood up. “Okay.”

“Tones,” Rhodey let out soft protest.

“It’s no use now,” he mouthed. “Come on,” Tony said and ushered his teammates out, throwing concerned looks over his shoulder the whole time.

“I didn’t know he couldn’t eat mint,” Steve said once they were back in the hallway, his head bowed down.

“Neither did we, Steve,” Sam patted Steve’s shoulder, “neither did we.”

“I didn’t do that on purpose.”

“We know.”

Peter laid curled into a pathetic ball on the floor. The moment his stomach had nothing left to expel, he splashed his face with cold water and dragged himself as far away from the lingering smell as he could, which wasn’t exactly far. He rested his head on a pillow he’s pulled off the bed and he was here, breathing through waves of cramps.

Stupid.

He was so stupid, thinking that the group of heroes wasn’t that bad. Just look where that got him. His parents always said that he was too optimistic, too gullible and trusting. Ingesting mint used to be a punishment for him, although it’s been so long since there was a need to use it that he forgot how horrible it made him feel.

It was only when his stomach was painfully cramping that he realized that the tingly feeling in his mouth wasn’t because of the sugar, but because of the mint. It happened every time he brushed his teeth, though in much smaller extent, so he was used to it.

Peter released shaky breath, closed his eyes and buried his face further into the pillow. Sleep always helped, so that’s what he planned to do.

Unfortunately, the universe seemed to hate him because Stark walked in in that same moment, carrying a steaming bowl of something and an apologetic expression on his face.

“Hey,” he greeted softly.

“You again?”

Peter was tired. He wanted to rest. He didn’t have any energy left to argue with the billionaire.

“Kid, look. We had no idea this would happen, but I’m sorry anyway.” When Peter didn’t reply, he continued. “You said you have fast metabolism and there’s literally nothing in your stomach to give you energy. You’re also most likely dehydrated. So, here,” he said and approached the sad heap. “I got you home-made chicken broth to replenish those electrolytes and rehydrate you.”

“Electrolytes that you made me lose,” Peter gritted through his teeth. “Don’t want it.”

“Kid, please—”

Peter shot the man weak glare. “Go away.” Another wave of cramps hit his stomach, making him curl into even tighter ball, barely swallowing down a whimper.

If there was something the boy hated the most, it was showing weakness in front of an enemy.

He was aware of Stark’s eyes on him. The man sighed, then placed the ceramic bowl within Peter’s reach. “I will leave it here in case you change your mind.”

The lock clicked after that, leaving him alone at last. He dragged his eyes to the bowl and just watched the steam dance above it. It smelled great. But no, he couldn’t…

Or could he?

What if it was really just an accident? True, he never told them and he didn’t think they had any way of knowing either. So, maybe… just a sip… but he shouldn’t… was it really a good idea?

He hated these conflicting feelings.

Ah, to hell with it! If he threw up again, it’ll be his own damn fault this time.

Carefully, Peter uncurled himself, leaned his back on the wall, reached for the bowl and blew on it before taking a sip. The rich flavor combined with the warmth of the broth spreading through his body made him relax immediately and soothed his stomach.

When he deemed himself full enough, he put the bowl down, and curled back so he faced the bed. Watching the single forgotten dust bunny in the corner, he fell asleep.

Later, when Tony went to collect the almost empty bowl, he got on one knee and threw the blanket over Peter’s sleeping form. Watching the steady rise and fall of the kid’s chest, he carefully moved his hand towards the kid’s head and e began to run his fingers through the brown curls.

The action elicited a reaction, although not unpleasant.

The kid sighed in content and subconsciously leaned into the touch, making Tony smile. It was enough to givie him a confidence boost.

He could do it.

The day his stomach was turning inside out, Peter was left mostly alone. He slept through most of the day anyway, though when he woke up, he was confused about the blanket on him. He didn’t remember covering himself before falling asleep, which meant that someone, and he had a pretty good hunch who, did it for him. He found that weird.

Because why would anyone bother with making sure he was comfy? Back home, if he fell asleep without the blanket, he slept without the blanket. Simple as that.

Oddly, some part of him was… touched by the gesture. It was like something stirred in his soul. Something… something warm.

Sure, the thought of an enemy in the same room as him while he was vulnerable got him on edge, but at least he didn’t wake up cold.

The next day, he refused to leave the room. All attempts to coax him out fell flat. They were back to delivering the meals to him. Thankfully, there were no more sandwiches.

Yesterday, Stark brought him a book. Peter decided not to accept the gift/peace offering, but the boredom eventually won and he found himself reading it. He almost laughed when he spotted the knife on the book’s cover and actually barked out a laugh when he saw that the title.

Should they be giving him a book that was calledThe Knife Of Never Letting Go? Peter didn’t think so.

Though he quickly found himself rooting for Todd to get away from his hometown’s army and reach safety.

And now they were today, back at the coaxing.

“So, uh,” Stark squirmed under Peter gaze. It was strange to see otherwise confident man to act like this. “Do you want to go to the gym? To get some movement? Only if you feel up to it, that is.”

Peter, as much as he hated to admit it, didn’t think about the offer for too long. He would kill to get some actual movement. Those few squats and push-ups he could do in the privacy of the bathroom were nothing compared to his usual training regime. Plus, he didn’t want to get through the book too quickly since he wasn’t sure whether he would get another one.

“You’ll like it there,” Stark, obviously relieved, kept on babbling as he walked ahead of the boy.

Peter was baffled by the man’s decision of repeatedly exposing his back to him. It would be so easy to jump at him, even without his powers, and snap his neck and nobody would be able to do anything about it.

“I think you will be able to use the equipment our two super grandpas.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

But… Peter found himself not wanting to.

Why was Stark being so… so nice? There had to be some ulterior mo-

A sudden stabbing pain in his wrists had him stop dead in his tracks, tiny yelp escaping past his lips. Squinting, he brough his wrists up to his face to look at the bracelets.

A faint numbness began to spread from underneath them. A second later, a wave of lightheadedness washed over Peter’s whole body, making his limbs feel weak and his eyelids heavy in the process. He realized far too late what was happening.

“Oh, motherfu—”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence as his knees buckled. The world turned black just before he hit the floor.

“Come on, kiddo, open those Bambi eyes of yours,” Tony said as he frantically patted Peter’s cheek. How could he be so stupid?No, really. How? He was the one who designed the bracelets. He knew all about the functions included.

So just exactly how did he forget about the fail-safe?

The fail-safe that was specifically designed to inject quick acting sedatives into their wearer in case of an escape. Once they crossed a certain point – bam! It’s a night-night for at least an hour. More that enough time to collect the escapee.

“Man, how did you forget about the fail-safe?” Sam asked from where he was hovering over the duo on the ground, knowing he wouldn’t be much of an use in their current situation. He offered to spare with the kid in case he wanted to since Tony didn’t want neither super soldier sparring with now-average teen, though he doubted that Barnes would say yes if asked and fighting with Natasha could be interpreted wrongly after the horrific revelation.

“I don’t know, I just forgot,” Tony forced through his teeth before he resumed the patting. “Wakey-wakey, spider-baby, nap time’s over.” Lordy, he’s really done it now. Peter didn’t as much as stir.

Tony tapped Peter’s cheek a tad stronger. He hoped the action along with the kid’s fast metabolism will rouse him soon enough.

The minutes felt like the whole eternity, but finally, Peter began to stir.

“Pete? You with us?”

The kid looked painfully young as opened his bleary eyes, blinking several times to get rid of the hazy fog that was without a doubt shrouding his mind. “Wha…”

Tony’s shoulders fell with relieved exhale. “Oh, thank God. You okay?”

He didn’t know why he asked that. It was obvious that the kid was in fact not okay if his weak attempts to sit up were anything to go by. Tony put his hand on Peter’s back and gave him the boost, mindful to be as gentle as possible. One of the points to spark the change in the kid was to introduce him to a concept that not every touch had to be painful.

A concept that was no doubt alien to him.

“Don’t t—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t touch me, I know,” Tony said as he put his hands up in surrender, but remained in vicinity in case the kid toppled over.

The whole process kind of reminded him of helping an overturned turtle.

“What the hell was that?” Peter asked, some of his usual snappiness returning.

“It was an accident, I swear! This was legitimately my bad. I,” Tony inhaled, “forgot to disable the fail-safe. I’m sorry.”

“A lot of accidents seem to happen ‘round you.”

Tony shrugged, wincing in the process. “What can I say? I’m very accident prone.”

Peter weakly smiled, mischief sparking in his eyes. “For a genius, you sure are a dumbass.”

“Thanks,” Tony deadpanned, “Once again, I take that as a compliment. But look,” he lifted up his watch brought up the menu and with a few presses changed the functions, “now you can roam the building all you want.”

The kid rolled his eyes, clearly not believing him, before making an attempt to stand up. He didn’t get too far before he, as Tony predicted, toppled over; right into Tony’s waiting arms.

See? Like helping overturned turtle. Drunk overturned turtle, but turtle nonetheless.

“Take it easy,” Tony said gently.

Peter pushed him away. “I’m fine. Let’s go to the gym.”

Much to Peter’s annoyance, he was deemed unfit to do any exercise after he struggled to remain on his feet. The process of getting to the common room was tedious and slow, mostly because he refused to accept help from either of the men.

He did pretty well with the wall alone, thank you very much.

With the gym out of the question, the movie night he learned was planned for later got turned into movie marathon. The group of heroes were milling around, busy with final preparations, while Peter nestled himself into the corner of a L-shaped couch, his slouched posture and displeased look radiating clear ‘don’t approach me’ message.

“I think,” Rogers said as he was reading something from his notebook, “Star Wars. I’ve been meaning to cross it off my list for a while now.”

“Finally!” Wilson muttered.

Peter tuned out the rest of the argument about how Rogers always took forever to pick when it was his turn and Rogers defending himself until a bowl of something white but nicely smelling was placed on his lap. “What’s that?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Popcorn,” Romanov said as she sat down with her own bowl.

“People usually eat that while watching movies,” Barton explained, smirking slightly.

“Wait, you,” Barnes joined in, awkwardly casual, “know what movies are, right?”

Stark sat down next to him “Ignore those idiots. They’re just teasing.”

Peter scowled, and for some reason unknown to him, switched to defense immediately. “You know, you all sure expose your backs to me a lot. I don’t think you realize how easy it would be for me to snap either of your necks.”

“Would it really?” Romanov asked, watching him sharply.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Peter replied, matter-of-factly.

Heavy silence settled over the room, all eyes on Peter as he popped a piece of popcorn in his mouth, tiny smile pulling at his lips.

Stark exhaled, quiet and shaky. “Fri, play the movie.”

Peter’s smugness soon turned into wide-eyed wonder as the movie enthralled him. He leaned forward whenever a lightsaber appeared on the screen and held his breath when the rebels were making the trench runs on the Death Star. His disappointment when the credits rolled was short-lived though. He learned there were several other movies, and since they were doing a marathon, another one was put on.

They were halfway through the third, or sixth, movie when Peter’s head lolled forward. The impromptu nap had to mess with him more than he thought, but he couldn’t fall asleep yet! He had to see how the story ended. When his head felt too heavy, he leaned it on the headrest and through sheer willpower, he kept his eyes opened.

It was only when the final shot of celebrating rebels turned into final credits he left them fall shut.

Peter was out like a light in an instant.

“He looks so innocent when he’s like this,” Bucky whispered.

“Hmm,” Clint hummed, his eyes sad. “It’s hard to imagine that someone like him killed someone. Do you think he really did it?”

Steve shrugged. “He admitted to it, didn’t he?” He turned to Tony. “I think it’s time—”

“To get him to bed?” Tony cut him off, “Yeah, I agree.”

“Tony—”

“I’ve still got a little over a week, don’t I?” he snapped. “I didn’t take you for one to throw the towel in the ring when it came to someone. Not after Germany. Not after Siberia.”

Just as Tony expected, the reminder of the events made the man clam up. Call him a douche, but if playing dirty would get Steve off the kid’s back, then so be it!

Without another word, he bent down and carefully gathered sleeping spider-kid into his arms. Peter nuzzled himself closer and grabbed a fistful of Tony’s shirt, making tiny but involuntary smile appear on Tony’s face.

“Tones,” Rhodey grinned, “you’ve got a giant spider on you.”

Tony, grateful for the ice-breaker, rolled his eyes. “Hardy-har,” he said under his breath as he left the room.

#marvel fanfiction #tony stark #peter parker #villain peter parker #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #tw vomiting

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