#his body parts. and it’s like. jays always buried his own emotions & hurt so he can better protect his gang

[itsalwaysforyou]

just remembered a wip i had which was jay at uni meeting normal people and desperately trying to act cool and normal whilst internally screaming about being in a whole new place with all new people and not having his gang with him

[supersilversleuth]

Your Words Aren’t Real (So Why Do They Hurt So Much?) by SuperSilverSpy

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Fandoms: DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Dick Grayson & Batfamily members, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Stephanie Brown, Dick Grayson & Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown, Tim Drake, Hurt Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson-centric, Dick Grayson Whump, Whump, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, I seem to be doing a lot of that these days…, Whumptober 2021, Mind Control, fear toxin, Hallucinations, anyway, Angst, SuperSilverSpy, SilverGrayson, SilverWhump, Taunting, Insults, ”who did this to you?”

Summary:

“Sometimes I wish you were my father, but I know you could never be. Bruce will always be my real father. You were just an inadequate stand-in.”

Dick choked, barely noticing the swift kick to his ribs before he was already stumbling back, ducking around Steph’s fist as he fought to regain his balance.

“You were a terrible brother,” said the voices of Jason and Tim. “All you ever did with me was make mistakes.”

OR Mind Control with a heaping of Angst

No. 3 - STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT… taunting | insults | “Who did this to you?”

Series:

Part 3 of 2021 Most Whumperful Time of the Year - Dick Grayson-centric

Language: English Words: 1,645 Chapters: 1/1

Nightwing awoke in a warehouse, surrounded by Batman, Red Hood, Robin, Spoiler, and Red Robin. They were all passed out on the ground, strange devices wrapped around their heads. They seemed relatively unharmed, not a bruise or laceration or twisted limb in sight.  He sighed in relief.

Looking around, Dick noted the absence of visible hostiles. He turned to Robin, who was closest to him and inspected the device around boy’s head; whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.  He felt along the smooth metal, searching (or feeling) for a way to remove it.

A moment later, several ding! sounds echoed in the warehouse, emitting from the head devices. Damian’s eyes opened, glowing a vibrant yellow. Dick backed up as the rest of his family began to rise around him. He knew mind control when he saw it, though that didn’t stop him from asking, “Uh…guys? You still in there?”

Their faces remained  expressionless as they turned threateningly towards him.

“Guess not,” he answered himself. “Looks like it’s just another exciting day in the life of the great and eternally stressed out Nightwing.”

He’d probably have to come up with yet another insightful and compelling speech to snap them out of it, par for the course for him at this point. Oh but how he wished it wasn’t. Every single time somebody in his family got brainwashed, or mind-controlled, or possessed (all of which happened way more often than it should), he was pretty much always the one to talk them down, or get beaten up and nearly killed for his efforts. It had reached a point where he wondered if Bruce was actively trying to get one of Dick’s siblings to accidentally kill him.

Well, at least one thing was different this time—he was facing off against five family members at once, instead of one, or two, or his entire f***ing team. But that was a story for another day.

Maybe, he could actually fight close to his full capability against them, without too much fear of hurting them. He didn’t have to knock them out or sedate them after all, he just needed to damage those device things around their heads.

Hood lunged at him first, guns drawn. Dick dodged, wrenching one of the man’s guns away with a grunt. He threw it across the room, knowing it did nothing for him in close quarters combat wherein he was attempting not to hurt, kill, or maim any of his would-be killers. There was no time for him to contemplate Jason’s likely reaction to the discovery of his ruined gun that would surely come later. Batman was already springing into action, fists swinging through the air in an unnaturally aimed-to-kill way.

Dick flipped around, dodging attacks from the two. He needed to bide his time, wait for the right opportunity to strike. He tried to electrocute them to short-circuit their metal head-band device things, but it didn’t really seem to do anything. He did, however, manage to get in a good hit to Jason’s head, which disoriented the man—and likely the person in control of him. Bruce went down next, Dick slipping the man’s belt out from around his waist in a move no one else in the world knew, and throwing a flash bomb in his face.

Pocketting what he could from the belt before tossing that too away (the emergency beacon didn’t work), he turned to face his new opponents. Spoiler and Robin, the short little duo wreaking havoc to his right, with Bruce and Jason getting back up on his left.

Whoever was controlling his family wasn’t the best at it, though forcing them to attempt murder against their own instincts was a feat in itself.

“You failed me,” said two very familiar voices in unison. It was Bruce and Damian.

Dick was so startled he almost didn’t manage to dodge the sneak attack Red Robin was attempting from behind.

“You failed the mission, our mission, you’ve failed the family I’ve given you, and the city I put in your responsibility.” It was just Bruce now, speaking blankly, words flowing out with no restraint.

Dick swallowed, but forced himself to ignore the man, ignore the words. It was probably just a program to detect negative emotion associated with thoughts of Nightwing and force the mind-controlled victim to...to say the thoughts out loud. Logically, he knew this.

Logic couldn’t prepare him for what came next.

“Sometimes I wish you were my father, but I know you could never be. Bruce will always be my real father. You were just an inadequate stand-in.”

Dick choked, barely noticing the swift kick to his ribs before he was already stumbling back, ducking around Steph’s fist as he fought to regain his balance.

“You were a terrible brother,” said the voices of Jason and Tim. “All you ever did with me was make mistakes.”

His vision had blurred at some point in time, he wasn’t sure when. A fist slammed into his jaw, a bow staff swiped at his feet. Purple flashed in the corner of his vision as his wrist was brutally snapped. Dick opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“They say never meet your heroes. I guess they were right then, hmmm? Except you were never my hero, and yet you still managed to disappoint me anyway.” Steph’s tone was sharp and biting as she jammed a shuriken into his shoulder.

Dick pushed her away, doing a messy backflip to land on Bruce, using what little momentum he had to push off towards Jason, tackling him for the umpteenth time.

“You were unfit to be a mentor, just look at you now. And the students become the masters…” said the scathing voices of Dami, Steph, and Tim. Laughter echoed in his ears, sounding cruelly amused. No, this wasn’t them, they would never say such things…

“Oh it’s all true,” said a voice from behind him, Jay’s voice. “What is it, Goldie, can’t handle the pressure?”

Dick tried in vain to block the voices out, focusing just long enough to knock the device around Tim’s head askew.

The boy fell to the ground, reality mixing with fantasy as Tim’s eyes looked up at him, cold and lifeless, as blood pooled around Tim’s twisted body, as if he’d fallen… Corpse-pale lips parted, harsh words spilling out onto unforgiving ground, “You think I’m just like you, but you’re wrong. I’m better. You couldn’t beat me if you tried. I’m too pure, somehow untainted by your doomed soul, even after all this time.”

Crazed laughter echoed in Dick’s ears, even as he blinked and saw Tim as he actually was, lying unconscious—and alive, on the ground.

“Look at that, failing to protect those you love most? You’re worthless to them, and to me. I should never have taken you in.” The words were growled in a familiar deep register, and yet...the tone was unusually cruel—

Dick found himself sprawled on the ground, back still smarting from where he’d been kicked. He struggled to his good hand and knees, only to hear the sound of a gun cocking. He looked up. Jason stood above him, Steph and Damian on either side.

“Tt, Grayson, always so pathetic.” For a moment, Dami seemed to be wearing an older version of his uniform, from when he was still Dick’s Robin…

Steph tossed her hair back, giggling, and Dick saw her in a different costume, that of Robin, and then it changed to Batgirl. Gah, he was so confused.

She wasn’t. “You’re not going to make it this time around. How does it feel knowing we’d all be glad? You’ve hurt us more than helped us, Dick. It’s time you’ve faced that fact.”

Jason smirked down at him. “Any last words? We all know you don’t deserve them, but, well,” he smirked, “I’m feeling charitable today.”

Dick lunged upward, body tensed as if to tackle, arms outstretched as if to hug. Dick himself wasn’t quite sure what it was meant to be, what he wanted anymore…

Bang!

The gun went off, bullet burying itself in Dick’s side.

Three pairs of feet began to kick at his prone body from all sides. He curled in on himself, clutching desperately at the bullet wound, mind hazy with blood loss and something...else… A scraping noise, close to his ear. Dick barely registered it through the pain of the systematic blows raining down. Another pair of feet entered his vision, Bruce’s Batman boots. Dick panicked, using one hand to staunch the blood flow while the other went to his neck, to where he instinctively knew the real problem was. There was a device, attached to his neck, like a mini version of what the others had, but missing a few parts. He yanked it off, and immediately, he heard the thumps of his hopefully just unconscious family members falling to the ground.

Dick squinted at the device, as he felt himself joining them in the land of darkness. A familiar scarecrow label stared back at him, Jervis Tetch craftsmanship was practically written all over the thing as well…

—

Jason woke, groggy and disoriented. He found himself amongst other bats, all lying on the floor in a circle like some kind of crazy sorcerer spell gone wrong. The others were slowly waking, blinking and shaking their heads as if to clear the fog away. And in the middle of it all, at the center of their little coming-back-to-the-land-of-the-living circle, lay Dick Grayson, covered in blood, close to passing out.

The guy was nearly unrecognizable, but Jason would recognize that ridiculous hairstyle anywhere. Scrambling over to his brother’s side, Jason ignored the way the room spun, placing a hand on Dick’s shoulder and looking down at the man, brow pinched in concern.

“Dickie?” he asked, “Who did this to you?”

[stressedoutcanary]

Hold On - Jason Todd x Batgirl!Reader [PART 2]

WORD COUNT :- 2.3k

Warnings ⚠️: I don't even know if there are any...Swearing maybe?, mentions of kidnappings, actual kidnapping oh and also violence and angst :)

A/N 😋: I got lost while writing this so judge accordingly people. Also forgive me for any mistakes. I TRIED.

Part 1 , Part 3

•°•°•°•°

“JASON STOP!!!!!”, your voice echoed in the silent warehouse.

Jason stopped in his tracks as soon as he heard your voice, his mind was brimming with thoughts, questions and worst of all, emotions.

“Well, well, well, look who crawled out of her little cave”, He said smugly as he finally turned around to face you. The voice was his, you’d recognize that voice anywhere but it felt cold, devoid of emotions, hearing him like that sent a shiver up your spine. You could feel your determination slipping.

Even though you had your cowl on, Jason could still see how much his rampage was hurting you but he couldn’t stop now, not when all he had left to do was to capture Joker, beat the living shit out of that asshole and show Bruce how much of a failure Batman’s moral compass really is.

“Well? Got nothing to say now?... Why am I not surprised?”, Jason scoffed.

You took a deep breath, you were breaking down inside but you sure as hell weren’t going to let that stop you. You spoke, voice barely above a whisper,  “Jason...Jay...Stop all this...Please, come home, come back to the--”

“Manor? Home? Did you hit your head (Y/N)? Why in the hell would I ever go back to a place where NOBODY GAVE A DAMN ABOUT ME, WHERE HE REPLACED ME AS IF I MEANT NOTHING?!”, Jason didn’t want to lose control of himself, not in front of you. So with visible effort he calmed himself down, took a step forward and gave you a deadpan look.

“You all left me”

Your blood boiled at that statement.

“How dare you?! We lost you! We mourned for you! I mourned for you!”

Tears welled up in your eyes, listening to him you wondered whether he truly believed the words actually coming out of his own mouth.

“The Jason I knew was a roughed up street boy who still cared when many didn't, who called Bruce out every step of the way, who had this ridiculous favoritism for bread, who had the guts to take out a tire from the fricking Batmobile”, despite the dreadful situation you smiled remembering those sweet memories.

You looked him in the eye, pleading in a way, and you spoke softly, “The Jason I knew was The Robin to my Batgirl. This-this is just not who you are Jay, not really...So can you just stop?”

He looked unfazed by your words and cocked his head to the side.

“Princess, the only way you can stop me is if you fight me, knock me down real hard, make sure that I won't get back up again. Tell me Batgirl, can you do it? Do you actually have what it takes?”, he waited for an answer he knew wasn’t coming. As expected, all he was met with was silence.

Long, Painful Silence.

With that Jason knew what he had to do, he put on his red helmet and swung out of the nearest window, you couldn't stop him, for all your big talk, you just couldn't. He was right you failed him.

•°•°

You jumped awake with a start, bolting upright and immediately regretting your subconscious decision, the throbbing pain made you clutch the back of your head with your palm and you closed your eyes again to achieve some semblance of reality as a way of grounding yourself.

‘It was just a dream (Y/N)…just...a...dream’

You tried to lie to yourself knowing deep down that it was a memory, something you have already lived through, something you regret everyday. You swallowed the lump in your throat. It felt dry and your whole body was sore. You really should've called in early and then maybe Dick would've been the one stuck in this crapy situation and not you.

Pushing past your perplexed state you got up and took in your surroundings, there were vines hanging from the open roof, a LOT of flowers and some Venus flytraps by the corner. It wouldn’t even take being a detective to figure out where you were; The Botanical Gardens.

“How the hell did I end up here”, you muttered under your breath. This was getting out of hands.

“See Pammy I told ya Girl-Bat would rise and shine by now”

“I can see that Harls”

‘Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, just great, is nobody in Arkham these days’

The duo descended down from the open roof through one of the vines and stood in front of you. Harley looked as happy as a 10 year old about to get their favorite toy and Ivy seemed to be interested in anything and everything that did not concern you. Classic.

“Why the hell did you both kidnap me?”

You jumped forward and grabbed Harley by the collar of her dress, in retrospect it wasn't the best move but it's not like you were thinking straight at the time anyway.

A vine wrapped itself around your waist and you were tugged back by such force that you were sure there was gonna be a big bruise there tomorrow. You skidded across the floor and finally stopped when your back connected with a bench. You were just too drained to fight back so instead you just crawled up and sat on the bench with a grunt.

‘Not fighting my way out of this one so for once let’s try talking’

“Whoa, should ya really be this obnoxious when ya got a concussion?”, Harley burst your thought bubble as she looked you over.

“Wait, Did you just call me obnoxious?!”

“But don'tcha worry I am a doctor and I got a PhD”

“In psychology!”

“I will fix ya in no time”

“Are you even listening to me?”

Just like that you saw Harley leave the room to go get some medical supplies, or well at least you thought that that's what she was going to do, you turned your face towards Ivy hoping that she can fill in the blanks.

“So you both finally done babbling? And here I thought it was never going to end.”, She looked at you from where she was petting her plant, and made her way over to you, something about her seemed genuine. You got the feeling that whatever she had to say, it won't be a lie.

“Try and not mind what Harley does, she's just happy to make new friends for girls night.” She sighed before continuing, “As for your question, last night we were near the Gotham Central Park when we saw a masked man dragging your unconscious body out of a building and into a van parked in the alley, so we kil-- we took care of him and brought you here”, She shrugged as if that explains why the Poison Ivy just saved your life.

"Wait that means Red isn't here", you whispered more to yourself than to others.

“Pam is Red!”, Harley said cheerfully as she came back out nowhere with a bunch of boxes which would've made you very uneasy if your mind wasn't already preoccupied.

“What Harley means to say is that if you are trying to ask about that gun loving leather jacket vigilante who wears a red helmet, then no we don't know where he is”

Her words sunk in and yesterday's memories flashed in your mind, your eyes widened under your mask as the realization hit you like a bus.

The missing people, the creepy mannequins, the medical journals regarding surgeries, the weirdo in the white mask instead of a face, the poster of some Pretty Dolls parlor; Now it all makes sense!

“Pyg!”

"Huh?", the women in front of you almost jumped at your sudden revelation.

“Lazlo Valentin aka Professor Pyg that's the son of a bitch who is behind all this mess, he's the one who has got Red Hood And it's all my fault! Now, He might be dead already! I should've known, I-I should've figured it out quicker, I should've done something, DAMN IT!!”, you buried you face in your hands due to the building frustration within you.

“Don't be like that”, you heard Harley's voice as a hand was placed on your shoulder, she sat down on the bench next to you, you turned your head and eyed her warily, seeing nothing but concern.

“Don't give up. Clearly this Hoodie person means a lot to ya so you get off your ass and go get him, don't you Bat People always find a way”, you looked at her for a moment, then jumped up on your feet.

“Can't believe I am saying this but you are right Harley, I need go and I will find a way to save him, but before leaving I wanna know something”, you looked Ivy in the eyes as you worded your next sentence, “Why save me?”

“It was just my way of replaying you for saving Harls from that clown once”, instead of elaborating Ivy just crossed her hands over her chest waiting for you to leave. You gave her a warm smile, something they are not used to seeing, from a bat of all people.

“Thank you Pamela”

With that you were out of that detour and onto finding the path leading up to Jason.

•°•°

Somehow you reached the safe house without running into some kind of trouble, with how your day has been going, you were completely expecting something else to go wrong. Thankfully it didn't. You took out a spare comms unit, keys for your bike and some aspirin to dull the headache.

Soon you were whizzing past vehicles at full speed triying to contact anyone available at the moment.

“Come on pick up, pick up, pick up! What's the meaning of giving us an emergency button when no one picks the damn thing up”, you spoke into a dead line, wishing you could just bang your head against a wall, on second thought not a good idea.

Two minutes later the call was finally picked up and a screen appeared on the dash of your bike, it was from the batcave and you could see Dick, Damian and Bruce in sitting in front of the computer, Tim was connected from what you assumed to be the titans tower. However Dick was the first one to pop the question.

“(Y/N) what's the emergency? Are you okay? We haven't heard from you since last night”

“Look no time to explain. Jason's been taken by Pyg and I need you guys to give me a location. Now”, you said gritting your teeth as you narrowly missed a truck for the second time this evening.

“Todd's captured? *tt* his incompetence precedes that of Drake”, Damian's snarky remark made Tim snap his head up.

“Hey!”

“Boys”, Bruce's stern voice made them quiet enough for the time being, “Batgirl you are injured and your emotions can compromise the whole rescue, go back to the safe house and let us handle this”, Bruce ended the transmission and it made you angry.

'He said that they are going to handle it, that means they know where he is, so now all I have to do is to get Dick to spill it out'

You dialed Dick back, hoping he would understand what you are trying to do.

“I know why you specifically choose to call me back and No I am not letting you go head first into danger without any of us with you especially when you are compromised”, Dick's tone was stern but laced with concern.

“Dick the last time Bruce said he will handle it, Jason died, look I know what he is trying to say, I get him, I can't blame him for wanting to look after me but you have to understand I have to be the one to get him back”

“Why?!”

“Because I can't lose him again! The last thing that I said to him was that I might never forgive him! Never forgive him for something that's not even his fault! You are my only hope at getting him back, please don't take that away from me, please”, you pleaded with him as you slowed down the bike to a stop.

The line was silent for a while, the thought about saying more to him crossed your mind; what you are feeling about Jason, how much he matters to you, how you've failed him more than once, but ultimately decided against it and instead you just waited for his reply.

You deflated as soon as you realized that the line was cut but the ping of a notification caught your attention; The map to the possible location of Jason.

“Dick Grayson, you big softie”, you smirked, your bike roared as you made your way on to the free way heading fast towards the Gotham outskirts.

Meanwhile at Professor Pyg's 'supervillain headquarters' :

Jason slowly woke up, assessing the situation he quickly came to the conclusion that he messed up and now he is tied up to what seems like dentist's chair.

“Great, there has got to be a new record I've set in this family for messing up and getting kidnapped”, Jason muttered under his breath, he tried to tug at his restraints to get free but it turned out to be fruitless. A blinding light was switch on above him and he grunted due to the intensity.

“Man, what is up with you people and light?! Turn it off already!”, Jason said as he tried to adjust his eyes accordingly, when he came to, he was met with his captor himself.

Jason just stared at the man in front, moving towards him, wearing a pig mask and holding a butcher knife. He has seen enough crazy but this guy might just rival the Joker himself.

“Pyg know you broken. Pyg make you perfect”

“WHAT THE F--”

°•°•°•°•

(I like to think I am funny)

Cute little extra note: Yes it is the second time I'm leaving you guys hanging and NOPE I do not regret my decision.

Tagging: @ladyperceval

[youryanderedaddy]

Two-time

  I have a birthday today and this is my present to you, guys... it’s softer than usual, kinda messy, but I hope you enjoy it dot dot 

tw: mentions of sex, emotional manipulation?, non-consensual touching, possessive / obsessive behavior, reader has a dating trauma oops, angst, lots of crying :(

   It felt nice. His big warm hands on your skin, his skilled finders touching and digging deep on your most sensitive spots. His tongue on your neck and his palm resting between your soft thighs. Stroking your hear, whispering threats of a good time into your ear. You liked it. You liked the pleasure and the attention, the sweet words, the compliments - everything the handsome young man provided for you. Even the little routine you two had fallen into was nice, you didn't mind the way he woke up earlier and served you breakfast in bed, cuddling close to your naked body, radiating heat under the white puffy sheets. And today wasn't supposed to be any different.

 "Good morning, sleepyhead." Joe smiled upon seeing you yawn, stretching your sore muscles, your hair all messy and tangled, your eyes shining bright with energy. A beam of light ran trough your face, lighting it up, and you grinned cheerfully as you took the plate in your lap. The man sat next to you, staring while you ate in silence. His hand wrapped in your silky locks, massaging your scalp. You slowly leaned into the gentle touch, resting your head on your lover's shoulder.

 "I've been thinking about asking you something for a while now." He spoke out quietly, watching your chest rise and fall with every peaceful breath you took. You were so beautiful laying in his embrace, serene and angelic like a child. "Would you move in with me?" Jay added after a while. This was the moment he had been waiting for since the day he met you for the first time and it made his heart beat faster than ever, the butterflies already racing trough his clenched stomach in manic circles. "It would make me really happy to have you here with me." He admitted softly, tightening his grip on your shoulders, pulling you even closer.

 His words honestly surprised you. Some deep subconscious part of you waited, dreaded this moment, while the other hoped it would never come. But it was obvious, now that you thought of it - every relationship had layers and levels and it was only natural for yours to reach a new higher one. And just how much this scared you, forcing shivers down your back, suddenly breaking in cold sweat. Some things never changed in the end. People did nothing but push for more of you, never satisfied with what you had already given them. But you wanted to believe that Jay was different - he was a cool guy, always sweet and goofy, slow to anger, an understanding person and a great listener. You couldn't ruin another great thing because of an annoying misunderstanding yet again.

 "I am flattered." You started off carefully, your voice slightly colder than before as you drew away from the warm hug to look the man in the eyes. You needed to hold your ground without losing decency, no matter how tense the conversation was going to be. "You are one of my closest friends and you are an amazing lover." You reached out to pull away a lock of dark hair covering his forehead and tucked it behind his ear. You felt like a monster for what you were about to say, but it needed to be done. Otherwise you'd be lying not only to him, but to yourself as well. "But I am not ready for a relationship right now." You inhaled slowly, noticing how the light withdrew from Jay's pretty blue eyes. "Please, don't take it personally. I told you since the beginning that I am not one for commitment." You smiled softly at him, wiping away the traitorous little tear running down his red cheek. "We have fun, don't we?" You whispered under your breath, playing with the man's fingers, drawing circles on his palm to calm him down. "Isn't that enough?" Your lover finally raised his head to look you straight in the eyes, his all dark, icy, filled with sorrow and betrayal.

 "No." He replied sternly, roughly grabbing your arm. In the next moment the man pushed you onto your back, pinning your hands over your head. His face was twisted in pain and his teeth were pressed together, making his features appear harsh and sharp. Jay placed a small kiss on your collarbone before moving up, biting and licking the sensitive skin along the way until there was formed an ugly bloody mark. He didn’t stop at that - soon your whole neck was covered in hickeys, some bright red, some blue and some even turning purple. “I want you to be mine.” The man stated, his cheeks now wet with tears. His expression was desperate, his gaze hiding so much adoration and yearning. “I need you.” He kept going, burying his head in the curve of your neck while holding your body down. You couldn’t move and you had no idea what to say. In the end your friend was just like every other person in your life - greedy and obsessed with having you. You had so many dreams and hopes for the future, yet he wanted to lock you down because of his own selfish desires. 

 “If you don’t let me go this instant you will never see me again.” You stated in cold monotone voice, glaring at him with hatred. You couldn’t help it as you felt lost and hurt by the sudden switch in the man’s cheerful attitude. You tried to push him off, hoping that the whole act was one big distasteful joke, but to no avail. His strong body remained motionless, towering over you, and despite being very familiar with this position due to the countless nights of shared intimacy, this time it felt suffocating, frightening even. “Let me go!” You finally shouted, starting to get scared for your safety. At the moment you wanted nothing more than to go back home, lay down and forget this whole fiasco of a morning. 

 Jay quickly pressed his lips over yours, shutting you up before you could say anything else and hurt his feelings even more. His heart was already aching, bleeding, torn to million pieces scattered over the floor. The kiss was rough, hungry, devoid of any tenderness or consideration for your own feelings. It was wet and invasive, salty with the tears you were both shedding, nothing like the sweet seals of love you used to share in the past. 

 “I can’t live without you.” The man whispered, stroking your hair softly. He looked so miserable and broken down, yet he never loosened his grip on you. “One day you will understand exactly how I feel about you, beloved.”

[karihighman]

Witness - Upstead AU

PART 2: BECOMING YOUR FRIEND WAS A CHOICE

After the longest night of her life, Hailey just wanted to sleep. The problem? It was 6AM in the morning, and her roommate, Vanessa, was already at work. Vanessa works at the recreational center nearby Hailey’s family’s bakery. She grew up in the foster care system, and worked odd jobs to put herself through college. She has a social work degree, and plans to open her own community center. That’s where Hailey met her, was in college. Point being, Vanessa was always up before the sun, and would get home in the early evenings. Meanwhile, Hailey takes her classes during the day, and on her off days, she spends it working the afternoon and night shifts at the bakery. Her parents need a break, and honestly, she needed a break from them.

Her parents were great, helped Hailey with her tuition, and were in her life for all the major moments. But, her parents’ relationship? That was another story. Her dad was abusive towards her mom, her brothers, and herself when they were younger. The physical abuse didn’t happen anymore, but it didn’t stop her father from berating her mother, or his sons and daughter. It only happened sometimes, when he would get really plastered.

If his sports team lost, if he lost his job, you name it, it usually ended up in the same tragic way.

Hailey was drawn out of her own thoughts by the pulling back of the hospital curtain. The last thing she remembered was meeting Jay, and by that time, it was either 1 or 2 in the morning. So, at least she’d gotten a few hours of sleep. Why it was still at Chicago Med, she didn’t know. But, she assumed the redheaded doctor that entered her room could answer that question.

“Hailey Upton, good to see you awake! I’m Will Halstead, and I’ll be reviewing your discharge information with you.”

Hailey furrowed her brows. Did he just say Halstead? Or was she hallucinating? “Did you say Halstead?” She asked him.

Will’s mouth quirked into a lopsided smile. “Yes, I did. I’m assuming you met my younger brother, Jay, a few hours earlier.”

Hailey nodded, remembering the very attractive detective she had spoken to. “Yeah, I did.”

“He was the one that told me you had fallen asleep mid conversation, so we figured it was okay to let you sleep given what you’d been through.”

Hailey’s mouth dropped open a bit. She fell asleep? While talking to Jay? Well that’s just great. “Oh. Well, if you see him, could you please tell him I’m sorry about that. I had been working a full shift, and had a full day of classes the day before. I’d barely logged 4 hours the night before, so I was on “this is my fourth coffee” mode.”

Will was maneuvering around her as she offered up an apology. He shined a bright light in her eyes to check her vision, which jarred Hailey a little. She blinked to get the spots out of her eyes, but tried to listen to what he was saying as he put the blood pressure cuff on her arm.

“Hm?” She hummed as he put all his materials down.

“I just said we’re done. You just need to sign this paper, and you’ll be on your way.”

“Oh,” Hailey faltered. “Yeah, okay. Um, I’ll just need to call a cab or an Uber since my roommate’s at work already. And, well, my car is back at the bakery…” She wasn’t meaning to spill her guts to Dr. Will Halstead, she was just talking out loud.

Her head snapped up as Will snapped his fingers. “Well, I happen to know someone that’s very willing to give you a ride back home. Plus, you can apologize on the way to your apartment.”

Hailey barely mastered an “Um” when she was met with those damn green eyes again.

Jay stood next to his brother, which 1) allowed Hailey to see the resemblance between them and 2) allowed Hailey to pay attention to tiny details about him. Like the smattering of freckles across his face, or how he always kept his hands in his pockets. His eyes were kind, and his smile was soft as he gave her a small wave.

She couldn’t help but smile back. “Hey, Jay.”

“Hi Hailey,” he replied. “I figured since we didn’t get to finish our chat earlier, that I’d offer you a lift home so we could.” He shrugged his shoulders awkwardly, like he didn’t really do this often.

Neither did Hailey, but what other option did she have?

“Uh, sure, thank you. Just let me grab my stuff and we can go.”

Jay nodded, and Hailey hopped off the table she fell asleep on, and onto the ground to pick up her purse. She zipped up her jacket, and she was fine to go. She noticed on their way out of the hospital, that Jay was wearing normal clothes. Usually the police officers she saw wore navy and/or light blue uniforms. She did however, see a glimmer of a badge on his belt, only because he fished his keys out of his back pocket.

She had the dumbest thought in the world as they exited the doors and Jay pointed them to his truck. Where did he keep his gun?

She smiled to herself and ducked her head down before Jay could catch her and then ask her what she was smiling about. She ran a couple fingers over her lips before stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets as they stood in front of his black GMC truck.

“And here I thought you’d be driving one of those white patrol cars I see roaming neighborhoods,” she told him, cracking a smile so he knew she was only kidding. Somewhat, anyhow. Truth be told, he was nothing she thought a cop to be. The ones that showed up at her doorstep all those years ago….they were blunt, harsh, and intimidating. Older guys shoving her and her brothers out, others holding their parents back.

It was a lot to handle at 12 years old. Her brothers were 14 and 15 at the time, so they looked out for her. But even they couldn’t comprehend why their parents were being talked to separately, or why their mom looked like she’d been crying, and why their father looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. They’d been fine all of those nights….or so she thought. Sure, there were some screams from a loud argument, or a harsh word exchanged here or there, but she thought all adults fought at some point. People in general fought, right? War, politics, etc. People can hurt other people. It may have been a harsh reality for a twelve year old to hold onto, but, hey, she wasn’t like most girls. Never had been. Never planned on being either.

—————

Jay couldn’t help himself. On the 20 minute drive from Med to Hailey’s apartment, he’d keep checking on her out of the corner of his eye. Once or twice, both of his eyes would flutter in her direction, to which he’d offer her a general smile. He’d breathe a quiet sigh of relief when she’d return it tenfold.

She had a really pretty smile. No, he thought to himself. He’d used pretty before already. Call it detectives intuition, or maybe it was just because he’d grown up studying people and how they behaved since his own family dynamic was pretty screwy – but regardless, he knew people like Hailey had stories buried beneath the surface.

He could tell by the tension she held in her face and body. How her jaw clenched ever so slightly, or how her hands would fidget in the same patterns every couple minutes. And of course, her tell of running a hand through her hair.

Complex, would be the word he’d use to describe that behavior. Mysterious would be the term he’d use to describe the enigma that was Hailey Anne Upton (he’d peaked at Will’s chart for a second, sue him). But, her smile? Gorgeous. Yeah, that was the one.

He almost contemplated asking her about herself, so he could get to know the woman wrapped up in so many proverbial layers. But, her voice cracked through his illusion. “This is me right here.”

Jay was pulled up to the curb of a quaint apartment complex, with a few units, he assumed on either side, even though he only saw the front. The white building’s homes each had their own bright orange doors, which he found funny given the classic white paint job.

Then he noticed the orange tiled letters and numbers that made up the street address of the complex. 185 Vinton Street. They were – you guessed it – bright orange. He frowned, not out of sadness, but out of…oddness? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the emotion. He was just….observing things. Like the way Hailey idled in the passenger seat for a few moments while he had gotten out.

“You alright?”

He tapped lightly on her window. She pointed down to the lock, and he could’ve – and should’ve – smacked himself silly for not unlocking it. Nice going moron. He grimaced, hoping his eyes conveyed a sheepish apology as he rectified the error. Her lips had twisted into a semi smile as she got out. She seemed to be smiling at herself, but she looked at him before looking back down to her feet.

“Um, thanks for the ride back. And I am sorry about falling asleep last night. Or should I say this morning.”

Jay leaned against his truck. “That’s okay, really. You needed some rest. Not many people see things like that. I mean, I do, but that’s because it’s my job. You’re…I mean, I don’t know much about you, but like you said – you’re a future psychologist – you’re not a cop.”

Hailey pulled her bottom lip inbetween her teeth. “Yeah, right.” She paused for a second, before asking: “Is that the last thing we talked about?”

“Um, no. No, the last thing we talked about, or should I say, I was talking to you about, was: golf. Which I found ironic that you fell asleep during the middle of the conversation, as you had just got done saying how you loved it, despite your roommate Vanessa making fun of you for it.”

Hailey shook her head as she walked to stand across from him, so she could lean her shoulder against his truck too. “Gotcha. Well, if you’d like, we can finish that conversation? I have coffee inside,” she offered, mentally smacking herself for how lame that invite was.

“Uh, sure, that is if you don’t mind. I could use some coffee right now.”

Hailey motioned for Jay to follow her up, and they entered her apartment. She thanked the lord that she was the neater between herself and Vanessa, so their apartment wasn’t a total disaster area. Vanessa’s room, however, was a completely different story. But that was partially because her boyfriend Kevin would sometimes stay over, and his stuff was left there too.

Hailey had told Vanessa she could always move in with Kevin, or find a place of her own, but she insisted that she and Hailey would be roommates until both of them had boyfriends. Hailey rolled her eyes at that ridiculous rule, but was secretly glad. She loved having Vanessa around.

“Welcome,” she said, raising her arms out as if to display the small space to him. “Um, you can sit wherever. I’ve just gotta change my clothes real quick, then I’ll put a pot on.”

Jay was admiring the photos that littered their living room area. Vanessa and Hailey had both taken photography as one of their electives, so black and white photos from a class project decorated their place.

He turned his head toward her as she spoke though. “Okay, thanks.”

Hailey quickly nodded before hurrying back to her room to throw something other than her jogging sweats and hoodie on. Sometimes she’d wear old clothes if she was going to be working in the back of the bakery, because flour + nice clothes = total mess.

She pulled on some jeans and a plain white tee shirt that she tucked in, before tossing her hair into a messy ponytail. Better, she thought to herself as she looked in the mirror.

She walked back out to see Jay camped out on her couch. The kicker? Now he was the one asleep. She literally had to bite her tongue to keep from bursting out in laughter. It was cute, seeing him all nestled up like he’d meant to do that all along or something. His elbow propped his head up a little against his hand, and the lower half of his legs were hanging off the edge. She was honestly surprised he didn’t take up the whole couch, given that he had to be at least 6 feet tall.

Vanessa’s boyfriend Kevin, after all, was like 6’4. That was pretty much all she knew about Kevin though, as she’d only seen him in passing. Thankfully, he’d been clothed, as had Vanessa, or else Hailey would’ve had to move out for sure. Vanessa had joked to her one night after Kevin dipped out that there’d be a day where Hailey would be the one sneaking a boy back to their apartment. Hailey had rolled her eyes, and told Vanessa to keep dreaming. But now, as she watched the slow rise and fall of Jay’s chest against his light grey fitted shirt and unzipped jacket, she realized she did in fact, have a boy over.

She let out a puff of air, feeling silly for just standing there like a moron. She didn’t know if she should wake him or not. She didn’t know what times cops had to be at work. All she knew was she didn’t have to be at work until noon, and it was only….she looked across the way to her microwave clock. 7AM. Cool, cool. She ran a hand through her hair again, before deciding to brew the coffee she’d promised him. Hey, even if he was asleep, didn’t mean Hailey didn’t need the coffee just as much as Jay did.

So, she bounded over to her kitchenette and put on some coffee. She leaned against the counter, pulling her phone out to check her messages.

One from Vanessa, which read: SORRY I COULDNT COME GET U THIS AM. DID U MAKE IT HOME OK??

Hailey typed a response. YES I DID, V. DONT WORRY.

She watched the three bubbles pop up on her screen. K. AND UR OKAY RIGHT?

YES :) TALK TO YOU LATER VANESSA.

She flipped her phone off before going to fix herself something to eat. Her grumbling stomach gave her hunger away. She was making eggs and bacon when she heard a mumble from her sofa. She’d honestly forgot Jay was there, he was that quiet.

“Mmm,” she thinks he “said.”

“It’s okay Jay, this time you were the one that fell asleep,” Hailey called over her shoulder. “I knew you’d wake up sometime though, so I figured you deserved some rest too.”

She was plating a portion of food for herself when she saw him emerge from the couch. He was headed for the coffee, but hey, the rest of her food wasn’t going to eat itself. “And you’re welcome to the rest of the food there,” she offered as casually as she could as she sat down.

Jay had been filling up a coffee mug when he turned his head up to look at her from across the way. “Oh, no, that’s okay, Hailey. I–“

“Seriously, Jay. I don’t mind. Besides, it’s the least I can do after falling asleep on you–“ she felt her cheeks heat up at the only semi-innocent implication that created. “–I mean, y’know, during our conversation, not to mention you taking me– giving me a ride home.”

Jay set down his cup, but he didn’t argue. He grabbed some food and made his way over to where she was sitting. They sat in silence for a few minutes, simply drinking their coffee and eating their food.

Hailey was the first one that spoke. “So, what exactly were we talking about when we were talking golf?”

“Ummm,” Jay mumbled as he finished a bite of eggs. “I think we were onto what is better: a club or a putter for a shorthand shot on the green.”

They answered simultaneously: “putter.” They smiled at each other.

“Huh, I never thought I’d meet another golf aficionado,” Hailey said as she bit into a piece of bacon.

Jay shook his head as he swallowed another bit of coffee. “Neither did I. I mean, my brother and I golfed sometimes…before he went off to med school and I joined the service. But, since then, neither of us have really had the time for it.”

Hailey pouted. “Aw, well that’s no fun. I think everyone should have something that they enjoy in their day. Like for me, it’s photography. Well, I really like still life’s. My roommate, Vanessa, she likes the live-action type of shots. But me? I like capturing a single, seemingly minute, moment of time.”

She realized she’d completely glossed over possibly the most important part of what Jay told her. Nice work, Hailey. “So, you were in the military?”

“Yep. Rangers, 75th Battalion.”

“Wow,” she mused, very impressed. She’d never known someone in the military before. Her older brother Andy almost joined the Navy, but it was only his backup plan if he didn’t make it into law school. But, when he got in to Harvard Law, he couldn’t pass it up. “That’s incredible. I, well, I mean, thank you,” her foot should’ve met her mouth a few words ago when she saw his eyebrows raise. “Thank you for your service.” She clarified, hoping her face was not as red as a tomato right now, or else she could just die of embarrassment.

Her pinky graced her cheek as she ran a hand through her hair once more. Nope, all good. Phew.

“Thanks,” he said gently. “Most people want war stories, or dangerous tales because they think it’s like it is in the movies.”

Hailey frowned. She was no movie buff, but even she knew nothing was like it was on TV or film. No way. She knew that after she watched her first princess movie. A prince would sweep the girl off her feet and away from danger. But, no one came to save her from her own hell. So, she’d given up on the whole idea of fairytales; honestly, she’d given up on the idea that life was going to give her anything. That’s why she worked damn hard to get where she was.

“Oh, no, I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like over there for you. I know what that kind of impact veterans can have when they come back from war. It’s a lot.”

Jay nodded, actually feeling thankful that someone understood that. “Exactly.”

Hailey offered him a smile, but he could tell it was tinged with sadness. Or maybe like she had something to share too.

“So, what about you? I mean, as I’m sure you guessed, I jumped from the army to the police, but what made you want to become a psychologist?”

“Um,” Hailey did her same nervous habit of running her hand through her hair. Shit, well that she wasn’t expecting. Most people liked to talk about themselves, or didn’t care to hear about psychology, of all things. Guys, Hailey, not people. She and Vanessa could talk classwork all day.

“I’ve just always been interested in helping people. And I’ve always been good at reading people, I guess. Like how they act, or interact with other people. People always think that their eyes or their lips give away what their intentions are, but actually, it’s their body language.”

Jay’s head tilted. “Is that right?”

Hailey vehemently nodded her head. “Yessir.”

Jay narrowed his eyes slightly. “Well then, Dr. Upton, what am I saying? Or what are you getting from me?” A small smirk played on his lips, and Hailey had yet another moronic thought of wanting to kiss it off of him.

She tilted her head a bit too, as her eyes studied him. One of her brows arched as she noticed his movement underneath her gaze. She clicked her tongue against her cheek.

“Well,” she began, unfolding her hands. “You’re sitting straight up, which indicates a polite demeanor. You’re holding eye contact, which means you’re not afraid of the truth. Your hands underneath your legs show that you’re carrying something, or have a lot on your mind or on your plate, as they say.” She debated on throwing him a bone with the last one. “And your feet are pointed at me while we’re talking, which means you’re genuinely interested in what I have to say.”

She could help but break into a grin when he did. “I appreciate it, by the way.”

He had opened his mouth to say something in return, when their moment was interrupted by the sound of a phone. Hailey had hers on vibrate in her pocket, so she knew it wasn’t hers, as this was an actual ring. “I think that’s you,” she said to Jay.

“Oh,” he mumbled, fumbling for it in his pocket. “Sorry. It’s work.”

She flitted her hand off, indicating that he could take the call. She busied herself by taking their plates and mugs to her sink, washing them off, and placing them on her drying rack. She’d just begun to turn around when she almost ran smack into Jay. Not that she would’ve minded…that much. She was 99.9% sure he was perfect, in every way. From the way his shirt pulled across his pecs, to the way his broad shoulders took up a doorway, but weren’t overpowering in the least.

“Uh,” she awkwardly sputtered. She really needed a new vocabulary. “Sorry,” she squeaked, not daring to look up into his green eyes. They were standing so close together that she felt his breath hit her cheek though. And that was about all she could handle right now, without her legs giving way, that is. Hell, she even held onto her counter for support. Subtly, of course.

“I, sorry. I have to go. My sergeant said we got pod footage of the guy that killed Crawford.” He was about to break apart from her, when Hailey heard a sharp intake of air. “Actually, um, we might need you down at the district.” He finally said. His voice was so smooth and low it reminded Hailey of rich milk chocolate, and she felt like she needed to sit down before she either A) kissed him or B) grabbed a giant Hershey bar from her secret stash.

“Oh, okay,” she replied stupidly. Duh, Hailey, major duh. “So I guess I’m riding yo– I mean, riding with you.”  Yep, if she could melt into a puddle on the floor, right then would’ve been the perfect time to do it.

“Looks like it,” he said as he finally put some distance between them.

Hailey oddly felt at ease with that. She just hoped she’d still feel that way once she was there.

___________________________________________________________

TAGGING: @ruzek-halstead (requested)  um, let me know somehow if anyone else wants to be tagged? i’ve never done tagging on my fics before lol. hope you like this second part. part 3 will be the last installment. but it’ll be good, don’t worry! ;) 

[northpen]

the long jade night (preview)

an: despite having another multi-chapter in the works, i’ve been secretly working on a mini-sequel to Meet Again. the final result will be a one-shot, but i’ve finally finished the first part, so i’ve decided to post it as a preview here!

(slight warning: this preview is more than 3k words long).

*

JADE | QUIET

The story broke a year after their return as ninja.

Cole tugged on the sails of Destiny's Bounty, turning them northwest. The wind was strong; it wouldn't take long to reach their destination. What awaited them, he wasn't entirely sure. He only knew that its prospect filled him with dread.

The laws of chronology dictated that Cole was 3129 years-old. In appearance, he looked no older than twenty-one. He had lived through thirty-one lifetimes. Some were happy, some were sad, but most were lonely. Until now, he had long since accepted the latter as a permanent symptom of agelessness. It wasn't very often that he got to live his days surrounded by friends.

It crushed his heart to know this was the last time it would ever happen.

"I knew her once, didn't I?" said a robotic voice from behind.

He tied down the ropes and turned around. Adorned by his white ninja robes, Zane stood stiffly on the wooden deck. There was a familiar sadness in his eyes, the kind that came around whenever he encountered something he could no longer remember. It pained Cole to witness. They had promised to continue their lives as ninja to create new memories, not mourn the ones they had lost.

It would get easier over time, he assumed. In Jamanakai, they would no longer be surrounded by reminders of the lives they had once shared together. They would both heal in the village's snowy landscape. And then they would prosper.

"We barely knew her," Cole replied. His memories of her before her death were faint, a vague recollection in lieu of anything concrete. "Lloyd and Nya knew her better. We were trapped in another dimension when she ruled with Garmadon. By the time we came back, she was gone. It's a little worrying."

Zane tilted his head to the side. "Worrying?"

Memories of sifting through the ruins of a fallen building crawled across his consciousness like spiders, pinning the visuals just behind his eyes. Chunks of grey brick. Dirt. Shattered glass. He lifted the treasures beneath them with shaky hands.

A strand of pin-straight white hair, now soaked in blood and coated with dust.

"I knew the others well when we approached them. They were different, but the same in all the ways that mattered. Their souls hadn't changed at all," he said. He clenched his fist to keep his hand from shaking. "I feel like I'm going into this blind. The Jade Princess was never one of my closest friends."

Zane hummed. "Then why help her?"

His decision to return to Ninjago City was impossible to rationalize. Despite initial false appearances, Harumi had always been an enemy to them. She had lied to them, taunted them, tried to kill them—and yet, she drew such deep feelings of sympathy from him. There was no way for him to answer the why without going into abstract emotions that made no sense to anyone but himself.

"I can't explain it," he finally responded. "I just feel this is something I have to do."

Zane came forward and placed a comforting cold hand on Cole's shoulder. "If you believe so, we will stand behind you."

Cole nodded and swallowed thickly. Right now, it wasn't Zane or the other ninja that worried him. It was Borg Industries and what they would do when they realized he'd betrayed them.

The previous evening, the police had sent a memo to the Bounty's communications system. A sixteen year-old girl, adopted only a few years ago into a wealthy family, had slit her adopted parents' throats and hidden away somewhere in Ninjago City. Afraid she would hurt other people, the police had requested the aid of the ninja in her retrieval. Of course, they had accepted immediately. But they had their own ulterior motives.

The story was too familiar for Cole to ignore. Even without her name, he knew this was the work of the Quiet One. Harumi was well and alive and Lloyd's desperate gamble had more widespread effects than initially thought.

Last night, he'd dreamt of the building's wreckage. When he'd awoken that morning, he'd remembered the testimony from a family who claimed that Emperor Garmadon's right-hand had played a personal role in their survival. After lunch, he'd made his final decision about what he would do when he reached Ninjago City.

He would find Princess Harumi. And then, he would let her go before any of the police's nindroids could take her away to the Kryptarium.

The police didn't know she was a reincarnation. Cole planned to use their secret connection to his advantage.

It was a risky move. A treacherous one. But he believed in her potential for redemption, and to him, that was enough reason to put himself back into danger again.

He just hoped that she wasn't beyond saving.

The city came into view during sunset. Its dark skyscrapers disrupted the soft pinks and oranges of the horizon; metaphorical spikes that cut into the delicate skin of nature and made it bleed heat and waste. Buildings stretched on for miles upon miles, an endless jungle of concrete and metal that had consumed much of the west coast in its expansion. They spoke to him in nonverbal tongues and made their demands ever so clear: We may trip, we may stumble, but we will never fall. What makes you so certain you can undermine us and win?

He could not answer their question. Doubt bloomed in his belly as the Bounty flew closer to Ninjago City. To help Harumi, the ninja would need to defy the police, Borg Industries, and the government of Ninjago itself—this was a gamble that threatened them with major institutional backlash. If they failed, they would spend the rest of their lives on the run. Nindroid agents would stalk them to the smallest of rural villages. Drones would shoot down the sails of the Bounty in the dead of night. Any reprieve they had found in their year of liberty would be lost to the threat of imprisonment.

They would become enemies of the state. Dangerous to the public. Wanted.

Hunted.

Autopilot kicked in and the Bounty lurched forward. They had begun their descent into the city.

Cole held his breath in a bid to slow his racing heart. Somewhere in the city, hidden away in an abandoned home or a dark alleyway, awaited the last reincarnation for him to encounter. Like Nya, had Harumi figured out she was a reincarnation on her own? Had she stolen her memories back just as Morro did? When they came face-to-face, would she recognize him as someone from their shared past, or only as a stranger from the present future?

The Bounty's thrusters roared as it lowered over the football field that acted as their temporary landing pad. When he looked over the edge of the deck, he could see many trucks and police cars in the parking lot next to the field. It seemed like the Commissioner was in a hurry to move things along.

The deck below his feet shook as the Bounty stuck its landing. Below deck, it was Zane alone who controlled the Bounty's motions. Nya would be in her room, getting ready to come upstairs. Out of all the ninja, she was the only one Borg and the police really trusted. Zane's memory loss and control by Nadakhan had spooked them, the other ninja were nobodies in their eyes, and Cole was a little too rebellious to be seen as someone they could depend on. Nya was their stable link that was about to be treacherously severed.

The hatch opened beside him. Nya's head poked out, and Cole offered his hand to help her climb the rest of the way out. She wore her gi and knee armour, but her hood rested at her shoulders. When she got to her feet, she took one look at Cole and rolled her eyes.

"If you want them to trust you—" she reached forward and yanked down Cole's hood "—you can't make it seem like you're trying to hide from them. I know you're a good liar. Put your acting skills to use."

The autumn air stung his cheeks. "You remember the code?"

She gave him a knowing smile. "If something is wrong, I say 'piano'. If something is disastrously wrong, I say 'Ronin'."

He put a finger to his ear and pushed down. "You guys hear that?"

"Yes, dad. We all heard," retorted Kai's voice over the channel. "Connecting to line five. Have fun."

Line five, the emergency line. The ninja were aware that for such a high level investigation, their usual communications channels wouldn't be safe. The police would want to work in conjunction with the ninja, so it was wise to assume that their voice channels would be secretly listened into by police forces. Line five was unique because unlike their other lines, it couldn't be listened into. Or at least, not until the police realized what they were doing.

Buried inside of Zane's original hardware was a transceiver for basic communications. It was this transceiver, as Nya and Jay had explained to him, that allowed Zane to hear sounds as well as emit them. "When you talk to him, the transceiver converts your words into radio signals he can receive," Jay had told him. "He digests them in a human manner, forms his response, and then transmits it back in audio waves perceivable by you. It seems complicated, but it's not really. Just think of him as a living walkie-talkie." It was this transceiver they were manipulating for line five. Instead of relaying their communications through the Bounty, they now had a much more personal short-range radio tower: Zane.

Line five routed its communications through Zane's personal transceiver. As long as they were within a few kilometres of each other, line five would transmit their words on a secure channel that could only be used by those with access to Zane's body. Thanks to Nya's purge of Zane from the system after the Nadakhan takeover, that number had been reduced down to a comfortable six.

To reduce suspicion, they would only use it in dire emergencies. The codeword piano, spoken over the main channel, meant one of the ninja needed help. Ronin meant that the police were growing suspicious and the ninja needed saving. A call for help over line five meant that evacuation was likely in order. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. They were being so careful—if all went according to plan, Harumi would be on the Bounty by the end of the night while they flew her to the moderate safety of the countryside.

At the edge of the deck, Cole wrapped an arm around Nya's torso and used airjitzu to float them safely to the ground. They crossed the grass and passed through a gate, where the parking lot awaited them on the other side. The Commissioner and several detectives were gathered beside a police van next to the parking lot entrance.

The Commissioner stretched out his arms in welcome. "Oh, how great it is to see you again, Miss Nya. Let me tell you, the current head of security is nowhere close to as good as you were."

She shook his hand politely. "You need to keep hiring reincarnated ninja. We're pretty special, you know."

The Commissioner laughed and offered his hand to Cole. "Is it safe to assume neither of the original ninja would be interested in the position?"

"Way too stressful for me," Cole replied with a smile. He hoped it didn't look too forced. "We're both pretty dead set on retirement, but who knows? Maybe we'll get bored after a few centuries and Zane will want to help out in the city again."

The Commissioner's thick moustache twitched as he smiled. "Then I look forward to your boredom."

"We're not doing the debriefing here, are we?" Nya cut in. "We should get moving. Or did we all forget there's a dangerous murderer on the loose?"

A nindroid opened the police van's side door. The Commissioner gestured to its interior.

"Of course. Climb in."

Throughout all of his years as a ninja, Cole had only visited the police headquarters a handful of times. His memory painted it as a crowded place, each floor in the tall building packed wall-to-wall with nindroid officers and human detectives. He recalled shouting and phones ringing, a place that was always loud and always busy. Tonight, it was eerily empty.

"Please excuse our appearance," the Commissioner said as he led them through the vacant halls. "Just about every capable employee we have is searching for the suspect. It's a very high priority mission for us."

All for one person, Cole thought. It occurred to him that they might not have received the full story in the transmission to the Bounty. What had Harumi done to warrant such a reaction?

Nya shared a glance with Cole. A year of masks had taught them to read each other's eyes well. In the darkest parts of her brown eyes, hidden by their feigned impartiality, was an expression of sincere worry. He was certain they were both thinking the same thing: with every cop in the city on the case, this was going to be a lot harder than originally anticipated.

The debriefing was held in a small conference room on the fourth floor. A sleek wooden table stretched across the room, its top covered in scattered paperwork and discarded takeout coffee cups. At the end of the table, three human silhouettes watched a 24-hour news station being projected onto the wall.

"Before we continue into the next story, a reminder to stay indoors if possible for the night," the anchor said to the camera. A photo of Harumi was displayed in a box next to her head. "The suspect is still at large and considered to be dangerous by the police. While the Commissioner has not yet signalled an intent to move the city into lockdown—"

"You look very busy," the Commissioner commented loudly. "Can any of you explain to me why public funds are being spent so you can watch TV?"

One of the detectives waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Yeah, yeah. We were just waiting for you to get here."

The lazy, deep drawl of his voice froze Cole in place. In the flickering light of the projector, he caught glimpses of the detective's personal features. Puffy, gelled-up hair. Trimmed eyebrows. A cleft chin. A smile that seemed to stretch a little too wide.

Really, Cole should have expected his return by this point.

Dareth turned to face them completely. "How are the ninja doing, anyways? Still okay after ditching us for a year?"

"We're doing fine, thank you," Nya said. Her hand touched his arm. She would take the lead from here. "Are you the detectives we're working with?"

"More or less," Dareth responded. "I'm the only mystery-solver here. The other two are just intelligence."

The female detective to Dareth's left slapped his arm. "I haven't spent ten years undercover for you to write me off as intelligence," she complained. She leaned forward on the table and winked. Her clumpy mascara brought attention to the sharp look in her eye. "The name's Violet. Nice to meet you."

The last intelligence took this as his queue to face the ninja as well. This was a face Cole was more excited to see.

He adjusted his glasses. His wheelchair squeaked as a result of the movement. "Cyrus," he said simply.

Nya flashed Cole a look, asking for confirmation. He nodded. Yep, it was the same one.

"This will be your team for the rest of the mission," the Commissioner said. He gestured to the chairs at the table. "Why don't you take a seat? I think it's about time we got on with the debriefing."

"Of course," Nya said. Cole moved to follow her to the chairs, but the Commissioner stopped him with a firm hand to his chest. "Not you. I need you to stay up."

Cole swallowed nervously. "Why?"

In lieu of answering his question, the Commissioner moved to the front of the room. The projector flashed erratically over his body. He lifted an arm to Cole, gesturing for him to come closer.

Nya gave Cole a small nod. It was safe to go forward.

The projector hurt his eyes. He looked into the dark corners of the room as the Commissioner clapped a large hand onto his back.

"As I'm sure you all know, the black ninja here is blessed with memories stretching all the way back to the unleashing of the Great Devourer," the Commissioner began. The hand on his back was more forceful than comforting, an idle threat that scared him more than Morro ever did. "Tonight, your debriefing won't be done by me. I think it's only fair that we let the expert take the lead."

Cole snapped his head to face the Commissioner. "I don't follow."

A laugh. It was a little mocking, a little sarcastic.

It was one Cole couldn't trust.

"Why don't you tell us what you know about the Jade Princess?" His hand trailed up his back, fingers dancing along the nape of his neck. "Judging by the presence of our friend Nya here, I'm sure this isn't your first time dealing with a reincarnation."

Just like that, the plan burned. The police knew Harumi was a reincarnation. The ninja's only advantage was gone.

If Cole had planned on stowing her away and then playing stupid, this was now completely impossible. They would expect him to know everything. If he couldn't locate her hideout, they would at the very least expect him to locate her corpse. Even after all these years, he could remember her original death bed in perfect clarity.

The Commissioner knew that Harumi's hours were numbered. With a case this serious, there was no way Cole would be allowed to operate without supervision. He had two choices: turn in Harumi to the police, or once again find her broken among the rubble.

His status as the only ninja with memories was being weaponized against him. There was no easy way for him to liberate Harumi and remain on the good graces of the law at the same time.

Well, it was a good thing he didn't work alone. It wasn't like the Commissioner could keep track of six fully-trained ninja at once.

"Harumi wasn't a friend," Cole said. He willed his voice to be forceful, channelling the ninja leader inside of him. "She was a monster. A dangerous, evil monster. My only regret is that I never got to take a swing at her myself."

A finger tapped Cole's neck. "You must remember more than that."

Cole found comfort in Nya's quietly terrified eyes. Her hand was balled into a fist below the table, and she seemed ready to spring from the chair at a moment's notice. She must have reached all the same conclusions as him.

The faint hum of the earpiece in his ear inspired his next words.

"Well, she was always a little closed off on the Bounty. But I do remember her being really, really good at the piano."

--

thanks for reading! i’m going to try to have this finished soon <3

[miss-choco-chips]

Soul Shards Au Headcanons

Dunno if this already exists, but if not, here it is.

Tim Drake Soul Shards au.

—-.—–

Okay I wanted to write about this, but really, between Twisted Soulmates and Put a Ring on it, and *finals* (I’m halfway through hell, I have to keep going), I just can’t. But this wouldn’t leave me alone, so here.

Au where everyone is born hugging a shiny small orb, which encompasses their soul. To anyone else, the orb is solid, like diamond perfectly polished. But to the owner, it changes as they see fit, from rock solid to malleable. Commonly, mothers, fathers and close relatives will gift their kids with little pieces of their own souls, shaping them to be little rings, necklaces, headsets, etc. Kids are discouraged from giving soul shards to anyone other than their relatives until they grow up a bit, but some still give bits and pieces to their best friends. The bit of soul given away always carries the feeling the person who gave it has for the person receiving it, so kids always carry their mother’s love, their father’s pride, their aunts or uncles fondness, etc.

Now, into the  headcannons. Please keep in mind I wrote this in one go so it’s not edited. Probably full of mistakes.

Tim’s parents were always careful with their souls, carrying them on little pouches or leather bags. They are full and perfectly unscathed. Jack’s soul was a little more reduced, since he gave bits and pieces of himself to his own parents when he was a little kid, but Janet’s is whole.

They never gave him a piece of themselves, Janet firmly against the act altogether, Jack following on her example.

Little Timmy always watched his classmates on kindergarten running around, shinny shards of soul decorating them, radiating a love he never felt on his own skin.

Fast forward the night the Graysons fell, little Tim went back home and made a little necklace for the boy that flew for him and gave him a hug so warm he likes to think it’s what being gifted a soul feels like.

He never really gets around to giving it to him though. It sits on a wooden box in a hidey hole under Tim’s bed, along with his most precious Batman and Robin photos.

He once tries to give his parents soul shards (a wonderfully made ring and headset for dad and mom respectively). His mother is outraged, to the point to slap him. Then, for maybe the second or third time in his life, she hugs him.

“-You stupid boy. Don’t give your soul away so easily, or you’ll have none left for yourself. And what do you think will happen to you, if you are soulless?”

 He never tries again.

Tim once falls from a high spot, where he was perched taking pictures of the second Robin. His hero saves him, gives him an earful, and they become friends (Robin drops in before or after patrol to make sure Tim listened to his warnings and stopped sneaking out at night. Tim kept doing it, but was sneakier about it and Robin, despite being suspicious, has no proof that the kid disobeyed).

Tim gives Robin/Jason a soul shard once, a little birdarang he craved after the one Jason gifted him, but shiny blue like his soul. It’s filled with awe, respect, shyness, adoration and what would equal as a crush if Tim were socially adept enough to recognize it. Jason is a stuttering mess for weeks, keeps the birdarang with himself at all times, right next to the soulshard Bruce gave him, and never takes it off. He plans on giving Tim something back, but is unsure as to what. Earing? The kid needed a little pre teen rebellion…

He never gets around to doing it.

He’s clutching Tim’s birdarang when he dies. Bruce doesn’t know who gave it to Jay, and is too overwhelmed with grief to investigate. He just buries Jason with it.

After Tim becomes Robin, he finally gathers enough courage to give Dick his soulshard. He explains how much Dick meant to him growing up, but that Dick doesn’t need to give anything back. They’ve just officially met not long ago, after all. Dick promises to give him something soon, though.

He doesn’t. Other things are more important. IT’ll happen when it happens, he figures. No rush.

Bruce gets a watch and Alfred a tie pin, but Bruce refuses to give anyone else a piece of himself, less of all Tim. He’s sure his soul is poisoned or something (He gave some to his parents, they died. Dick, he left. Jason, he died. Clark and Diana, they were superhuman, they don’t count. Alfred… well, Alfred is always the exception), and won’t allow his darkness to touch the boy (OH BOY IS HE WRONG). But because he doesn’t want Tim to feel like Bruce has a personal problem with him (*epic fail on his part*), instead of calmly explaining his reasoning, he also forbids Alfred from giving Tim a soul shard (That shit’s gonna explode on his face).

Tim goes around to giving bits and pieces to his friends, too. Doesn’t really expect any back though, used as he is to giving and never receiving.

He gives Steph a locket, when she tells him she’s pregnant, so she can keep a picture of the baby if she wants (or anything else if she doesn’t), even after giving him or her away. Steph doesn’t reciprocate since pregnant women are advised against molding and sharding their souls, in case it hurts the baby’s soul development. Then she ‘dies’, and after she comes back Tim is angry at her, and there’s never a right moment for her to give him a shard.

Cass… well, Cass is so touched when Tim gifts her a soul-made compass that always points towards the Manor (“So you can always find your way back home”), but her father has damaged her soul by throwing it around and dropping it a lot, on top of his emotional and physical abuse, and it’s just too bruised for her to give any away, though she promises herself she will the moment it’s healthy enough.

Tim’s team… God, his team. By this time, Tim is kinda concerned, because he gave too much recently and his soul is looking kinda… malnourished? small? He can’t really put a finger on it, and he’s worried his parents will notice, so he doesn’t give his team a shard at first.

It’s after his parents die (buried with the soul pieces Tim made for them, even if they never wanted to wear them) that he thinks ‘fuck it’ and, while hanging out with Kon and Bart, gatters courage and asks them what would they like.

After being reassured that he wants to do it, Kon shyly asks for an earing (of course he does) and Bart for a ring (kinda like his grandfather’s? few other things would stay on him at the speed he runs, too). They wished they could give back, but Kon, as a clone and alien, was created with a soul no one can touch, like a phantom light following him around, and Bart already told them how everyone in the future was born with theirs inside their bodies.

He sees the soul-made birdarang again, and that’s what cues him on the fact that Jason Todd came back to life. It’s colour had changed from blue to red, the only reason he recognized it was the tiny R he carved on the middle. He sees it close and personal when his former hero tries to gut him.

He gives Cassie a bracelet on Kon’s funeral. Turns around and leaves before she can say anything about it.

Tim lays in bed at night and remembers his mother’s words (“You stupid boy.”), and wonders what, indeed, is the danger of going soulless. He doesn’t know if it’s possible. His soul has shrunk, that’s obvious, but, thinking back on all the pieces he gave away, he should have run out of it a long time ago.

Bruce dies. Everyone whose soul he gave to are the ones that carry his casket. Damian and Tim are sitting on the front rows, but their lack of deep blue soulshards is telling.

Not too long after, Dick gives Damian a little Robin sky blue brooch, to fasten the cape of his new uniform with. Tim wears black and red, not a hint of shiny soul on him. He leaves Gotham and looks for Bruce.

Ra’s is the first person ever to inquire about his shocking lack of soulmade gifts. To wonder about the bruised state of his soul.

“The Pit could heal it, restore it to it’s former grandness” “I’ve seen what it did to the bit of my soul I gave to Jason… no thank you.” “You’ve given far too much. It’s state is sad enough a hundred cynics wouldn’t be able to describe it without bawling” “It wasn’t a matter of give, it was a lack of take. And it’s not like giving it away is the only abuse my soul had to endure.”

He brings Bruce back, but he’s so tired. His soul hasn’t been growing back on itself like it did the first few times he took from it.

The love he felt when someone smiled at his soul shards was what feed his soul, he realizes. It’s past malnourished at this point.

If he had enough soul left, maybe he’d have cared.

The final straw is Damian, of fucking course. He doesn’t even remember what the argument was about, even five minutes after it had ended. He simply didn’t care anymore. Something about Wayne Enterprises, the right heir, the blood son…

Tim blinks blankly at Damian, hand reaching inside his pocket, looking for the now tiny, ping pong ball- sized piece of soul. The last he had left.

Silently, he stopped Damian’s rant short by taking the gesturing teen’s hand mid air and holding it open, dropping the remains of his soul in it, and closing the now still fingers around it.

“There. Now you truly have everything that was mine. Happy?”

He turns away, and leaves. Damian stays behind, heart hammering away in his chest, clutching the tiny (too tiny) soul.

In different places, different people feel a sudden heat from the pieces of Tim’s soul they carry with them. Steph, Cass, Bruce, Kon, Bart, Dick, Jason, Alfred, Cassie… they all look for theirs.

The soul is now mostly red with flecks of black, very little of the icy blue remains. It’s a bleeding soul.

A dying soul.

“And what do you think will happen to you, if you are soulless?” Sorry, mom.

Apparently, decides Tim, dragging his hoodie over his head to hide his features as he boards the plane, you stop caring.

—–.—–

Did I make you cry? I made myself cry. Was gonna give this a happy ending but I HAVE TO STUDY, FUCKING FINALS.

[i-write-sometimes-blog]

Cold Eyes (Dark Rey x Reader) [Part 10]

Summary: A softer part of Rey comes out as she feels the loneliness you had been putting her on. All the parts.

Words: 1,747

A/N: hi, I've been a bit inactive recently but don't worry I still writing. Hope this can help you to survive this difficult times. Enjoy!

Quick steps followed behind you as you left the training room and you heard Rey calling you. The lump stuck in your throat for just the smallest memory of the nightmares.

"Y/N, wait!" She said.

"What?" You turned around trying not to break.

"Your dream is wrong" she told you as she got dangerously closer. You met her gaze "I could never hurt you. I wouldn't." she said.

Was she really serious? After all she had done, all the pain she had brought you and your loved ones?. The thought of all the things she had done filled your body with rage as you let out a humorless chuckle.

"I don't think you notice, Rey but you already had" you told her "you've hurt me more than anyone has ever had. Not to mention you tried to kill me more than once."

"Didn't have to be that way, Y/N and you know it" she added "but you forced me to”

I don’t want to hear this anymore” you said done with arguing with her because most of the times it ended in one of you crying away. So you turned on your heels to get back to your room.

“Don’t go” you heard her said as you felt her hand grabbing your wrist .

“Let me ask you something” you said as you glanced at her again, the question had been stuck in your mind for a time now, always wanting to know for sure if there was still something good inside this woman whose soft hand was stopping you from runaway. “Do you even feel any remorse for what you did to all that people? to me?”

She stared at you for a long moment before she looked away, incapable to hold your gaze any longer.

“It was necessary” she murmured “all of it.”

“Taking millions of lifes was necessary? Destroy their home was necessary?” you paused for a moment looking for her eyes “You call that necessary?”

“It was” she said without looking at you. So she did feel something, though you couldn’t tell what but if she wouldn’t she would be looking at you, she was clearly hiding those feelings call it guilt, shame or maybe regret, whatever but she had it and that was a bit reconfortating, knowing she was not a cold hearted killer.

“Y/N, you think you will be able to forgive me someday? I can’t take the loneliness anymore. I want things between us to be like in the past” she raised her voice again not her eyes fixed on you as you saw her features softened.

A thick sigh left your lips.

“I can’t” you told her and she nodded accepting your answer “not now. You’ve done terrible things, Rey to innocent people and there’s no way you can change that.” you thought for a moment, maybe this was a chance to make her see reason. “But you can prevent more people to die, you can stop this chaos, you’re their leader just give the order…”

“No!” she cut you off “No, this can’t stop now that we're so close to win, many planets had surrender already, this galaxy is ours” she changed her grip on your wrist to your hand “Look how far we’ve come, Y/N.” she said smiling.

“Please just let go, Rey” you murmured.

Rey scanned your face, a bit of disappointment in her own, even a bit of pain lying on her eyes that stared at you for a few moments.

“Okay” she said as she finally let go of your hand and doubtful she turned around.

***

As the days went by you found yourself out of Mustafar, taking a breath of fresh air for the first time in a while walking down the ship, you wished you were there for other reason than this but you couldn’t change it. Soon you heard the blasters hitting through the air, distant screams and you saw the smoke rising over the flames.

This poor planet dared to resist the First Order, this small planet you didn’t even know its name were fighting for its freedom against the stormtroopers running along the streets, people without experience in battle but with a purpose and hope.

“Y/N” Rey’s voice dragged you out of your thoughts. “You are ready” she told you handing you a lightsaber. “Do not fail me, you know what happens if you try to escape so don't do it” she said in a dangerous tone as flashes of red and yellow lighted her eyes.

“Yes, Master” you murmured insecure as you took the weapon in your hands, by the corner of your eyes you saw her doubting before she finally left your side and disappeared through the buildings with her two sabers already turned on.

You rushed down the almost empty street of this planet, dodging some blasters from time to time.

Until you ran into a group of natives that shoot immediately at you. Easily you unarmed them with a gesture from your hand making them ran out of fear, except for a kid, he ran directly to you determined to protect his home but before he even could reach you, you knock him to the ground with a move and pointed your red saber at him. This was wrong, Rey was using you as a weapon, another trooper but more powerful. She was using you to kill for her, she trained you for that and deep down you knew it but you weren't gonna kill a child nor anyone else for her.

The kid looked at you, he was not even fifteen, he looked so scared of you with the saber pointed at him humming softly.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry, I'm not going to kill you" you told him as you turned off the weapon "I'm gonna drop it, okay?" You added as you slowly placed it in the ground. "I'm Y/N" you said "I need you to tell your friends to hide, run as fast as you can, save yourself young boy"

He stared at you still frightened lying on the ground. He spoke then a language you've never heard before, a pleading tone in his voice as he told you something you couldn't understand.

"I don't get it, kid" you told him but he kept saying those words, even yelled. As the steps came closer you knew what he was trying to say. You looked over your shoulder to find dark helmets a few feet away from you. Death troopers.

"Run" you told the kid that finally understood you and got lost in the ruins of the city.

You reached out for your saber igniting it as soon as you held it on your hand standing ready in front of them.

They soon the five of them pointed their blasters at you not intimidated by your light sword. Firing they stayed on their places as you circulated your saber to dodge them changing the direction of some of their shoots and soon one of them was down.

Swinging your saber you jumped above them landing behind them as you quickly buried your weapon in the back of one of the black uniforms.

"That's all you have?" You joked as you kept fighting against them.

Then there was a small rock flying through the air that hit a helmet. You followed that direction it came from and found the kid throwing rocks at them.

"Boy, no!" You screamed but he didn't move, he kept throwing rocks at them and the troopers turned to him, one of them that seemed to be the leader grabbed the poor child by his dusty clothes and pointed at his head

You rushed to the one that was closer to you and punched the weapon off his hands.

"Put that thing down or the kid dies" you heard the modulated voice from the helmet that held the boy. And you obeyed, rising your hands.

"Let him go" you begged "it's an order" you said, maybe being Rey's appreciate would help you out of this or at least to save the boy, like in Mustafar where every single stormtrooper knew who you were.

"We don't follow orders from a traitor" said a female voice behind the helmet before punching you in the face making you dizzy for a moment, then a new knock came slamming into your belly and then another one and another. You could feel the pain all over your body, you tasted the blood in your mouth from the several times the strong trooper hit you.

Suddenly the hum of a saber made you raise your glance catching Rey pulling her sabers across the trooper that held the boy before the black uniform slammed lifeless on the ground. Immediately she took the other one and finally she killed the woman that had knock you.

"Y/N, are you okay?" You heard Rey asking you as you felt her arms wrapping around your aching body. "Y/N" she repeated. Your gaze met her face filled with pure concerned.

"Yeah" you murmured "yeah, I'm fine"

"Somebody is going to pay for this" she hissed.

“They already have, Rey” you added, finally realizing she was holding you close to her secure on her embrace, the first time you’ve been this close to her in a very long time and then you realized she saved your life though you disobeyed her orders. And for a brief moment you allowed yourself to enjoy her closiness

“I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again, Y/N” she murmured as she tightened her grip around your body “and that’s a promise”

She move away, not letting go completely out of you, she glanced at you with worried eyes, real emotions painting her face. So strong and yet so vulnerable in front of you, before she finally lose her grip on you and got back a bit serious again.

“Get back to the ship, Y/N” she said “I still have work to do, I’ll meet you there” she said turning back as she turned on her sabers again that illuminated her face with a red light.

“Rey” you called making her stop and look over her shoulder, she stared at you. “Thank you” you said and for a moment you saw the shadow of a smile cracking her lips as her features softened, letting you see that kind girl you met in the Resistance a long time ago.

“Anytime”

Tagging: @cpt-bolter , @elvencantation , @jay-birf03 , @x-a-gay-disaster-x , @sheogasms , @hstoria , @iamafangirl-fightme, @leilei-draws , @hayley-the-comet

(In case you want to be tagged for specific things, just let me know)

[addicted-to-dc]

Survivor- Jason Todd/Red Hood X Reader

Hey, guys, I’m really hesitant to post this fic so I might take this down after a couple of days. I try to keep my account free from actual smut, but I wanted to try something. Anyway, please leave feedback if you want me to keep this. 

Warning: Angst, mentions of murder and torture, drug use, swearing, horrible smut. 18+ only!!!

Word Count: 2,733

You didn’t think that your body would shake as much as your hands did, making your heart race and every sense blurred. Even if your body reacted this way, your goal was finally complete. Your life had no meaning after this even if you could live it out if you wanted. He was finally dead, bleeding out on the floor as his laughs and cackles faded away. Joker was finally dead, and you weren’t sure if you could take another breath. The adrenaline you had when you stabbed him was gone, leaving you without any energy to even move away from him. The knife was still in his chest, completely embedded into his torso. You could only stare as the blood seeped through his shirt and onto the floor, spilling onto the concrete floor.

You didn’t know how you survived, or how you were able to do it, but it was finally done. After the countless years of physical and emotional torture, you were finally free from his constant control. Finally collapsing onto the ground, a smile grew on your face. First, you exhaled a chuckle. Soon enough you were laughing loudly, tears falling down your face as everything crumbled down on you: The clown was dead. Your laughs evolved into sobs, pain radiating all over your body. Time continued on as you found the strength to stand up, smearing his and your blood all over the wall beside you. You left the room and instantly got lost in the building, losing your bearings after every turn and corner. By some miracle you were able to finally find stairs leading upward. Your legs and lungs burned as you ascended them, the metal cold on your bare feet. A lone metal door was at the top, the only thing that was separating you from your freedom.

With all of the strength you had you unlatched its lock, pulling it open as the light outside blinded you. Holding out your hand, you pushed forward and finally exited your personal hell. You did not expect your feet to touch grass, but you welcomed the foreign feeling. Taking in a deep breath, you forced yourself to keep moving despite the pain. You didn’t know where you were, but you were damned if you thought you weren’t going to find anyone.

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

You hadn’t thought about that day in awhile, not since you left your old life behind for a new one. Your story had been a popular one, but you couldn’t stand the constant questions from the press and everyone around you. It was too much and they knew it, but that didn’t stop them. They had asked about every scar, burn, and bruise that had marred your flesh, bringing back the thought of him. After a few months of freedom you realized that you could never kill him, his voices inside of your head reminded you up until now. You were finally able to move on, but of course it didn’t last long. Someone knocked on your door, the sound was enough to make you freeze. Gulping, you grabbed your bat and slowly approached the door, your tight grip already hurting your skin. Looking through the peephole, you instantly opened the door, but slightly.

“What do you want?” you asked quietly, staring at the man.

“I came to check on you, (Y/N),” Bruce replied, giving you a small smile. “May I come in?”

You nodded, opening the door. As soon as he was in and out of the way you closed the door, locking it before letting out a shaky breath. Your bat was forgotten next to the door as you walked into the living room, taking a seat on your couch as Bruce did the same.

“How’s everyone?” you asked, pulling a pillow into your grasp.

“(Y/N)...”

“What? I can’t ask about my brothers now?” you asked, your hands starting to shake.

“You can, but that’s not why I’m here,” he admitted, reaching into his jacket to grasp a folded photo before handing it to you.

Taking it, you looked at him confusedly before opening the picture. Your heart sank at the sight. It was a picture of the Red Hood, making you instantly realize why he was here. Your stomach dropped, nausea overpowering you as you pushed yourself away from the couch. Stumbling to the kitchen, you opened a cabinet and pulled out a small air mask. Placing it against your face, you greedily sucked in the air, your body instantly calming down as you placed it onto the counter.

“No,” you stated shakily. “I am not going back there, I can’t.”

He sighed behind you, “You’ve been here for two years, (Y/N), everyone misses you.”

“They sure missed me when you had my funeral,” you spat, clutching the counter top. “I can’t, Bruce, I need more time. It’s too much.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as your anger faded away. He placed a hand on your shoulder, making you tense. You removed his hand and turned around, meeting his eyes.

“I need to deal with this my own way,” you said, clenching your jaw. “I know he’s the one who found me after I escaped, and the only other time that I saw him was that day…”

You gulped, remembering how easy it was to just let go, to just fall. It was freeing, but he had found you just like he had before. It was like he was always watching, always waiting for you to do something stupid.

“I haven’t seen him since,” you stated, walking past Bruce. “I don’t know what is happening back in Gotham, but I don’t want any part of it. I have something great here, and I don’t want to give it up that easily.”

“Okay,” he nodded, “but you call me if you need anything.”

You watched as he opened the door, hesitating as he stood over the threshold. He looked back at you, giving you a solemn look.

“Goodbye, (Y/N).”

He stepped out and shut the door, leaving you alone once again. You don’t know how long you stood there, waiting for his car to leave the driveway. Letting out a shaky sigh, you screamed and went to punch the wall, but froze when you heard someone clear their throat.

“I won’t fix that,” he muttered, quickly walking over to you and pulling you against him. “Nice act, you could have fooled me.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t search the place,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around him.

“You know he wouldn’t,” he retorted, his grip on you tightening. “He wouldn’t do that to you, not in what state he thinks you are in.”

You ran your fingers along his bare back, making him shiver. He did the same, but his warmth just made you push yourself against him even more. He groaned at the feeling, making a smile creep onto your face. Dragging your hands down once more, you grasped the band of his sweatpants and pulled it, letting it snap against him. That made him growl, and Gods you’d be lying to yourself if that didn’t spur something in you. Laughing, you resumed tracing your fingers along his back, listening to his heartbeat as your anger dissipated.

“He’s bound to find out, Jay,” you sighed, feeling his hands stop their movements.

“No, he’ll find out when we let him,” he said coolly, his hands moving again. “Not until we finally show him what it takes to protect Gotham.”

His hands trailed down, grasping your ass before gripping your thighs. Lifting you up, you wrapped your arms around his neck as you stared into his eyes. He had a barely healed scar running down his face, you remember when you gave it to him. Removing one of your hands, you traced over the scar, reminding yourself why you were doing this. You were doing this for Jason, for the people of Gotham, for Gotham herself. He nuzzled into your hand, his green eyes piercing yours as his lips finally met yours. Groaning, he carried you to your bedroom and placed you on the bed, his weight remaining on top of you as you pulled him closer. Your body felt like it was on fire, and Jay’s body made it hotter.

Removing his lips, he kissed your cheek before descending to your neck, sucking on your skin, “Tell me you’re with me.”

His hands traveled down, grasping your shirt before ripping it off of you. Gasping, your words were caught in your throat as he buried his face into your chest.

“Tell me,” he mumbled, placing sloppy kisses as he waited for your response.

“I’m with you, Jay,” you sighed, tightly gripping his shirt. “Always.”

You could feel his grin as he resumed his descent, dragging his fingers along his sides as you shivered in anticipation, “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Hooking his fingers around your shorts, he slowly dragged them down, barely touching your skin as he watched your response. You could only watch as he did this, your heart beating out of your chest as he finally tossed the article of clothing somewhere in the room. He kissed your stomach, making sure he left no scar alone until he was where you needed him to be. You could feel his hot breath near your core, teasing you one last time before dragging his tongue from your entrance to your clit. Gasping, your hand reached down to grasp his red locks, trying to pull him closer. He chuckled, the vibrations making you go wild. Releasing the first moan of the night, you ground against his mouth before your movements were halted by his hands on your hips.

“Jay,” you moaned, grasping the bed sheet.

Your moans only fueled his fire, using everything he knew about your body against you. You would never get used to this… having Jason back with you. The way he worshiped your body without saying a word was just how you remembered, but the raw emotion you both felt had changed. You weren’t just teens fooling around in the Manor anymore, that ship had sailed long ago.

“Fuck,” you muttered, your mouth falling open as he slid in a finger.

He added another, licking just the right spot as he dragged his fingers against your g-spot. Screaming, you felt like you couldn’t take anymore. The pleasure was too much, but he kept licking and massaging your nerves. You felt the familiar pressure, practically vibrating as you melted at his touch. Your whole body was on edge, muscles twitching as everything exploded. You couldn’t stop yourself from squeezing his head with your thighs, your toes curling as he continued to guide you through your orgasm. You could only hear your heartbeat and your panting, moaning as he gave you one last lick before removing his fingers. You groaned as he sucked on them, licking his lips before removing himself from you. You nearly whined at the loss, but stopped when he took off his shirt and slid his sweatpants down.

“You like what you see?” he asked, kicking the pants aside as he climbed back on top of you.

Laughing, you moaned as he ground on your sensitive core, “Always, Jason, always.”

Grasping his face, you pulled him in for another kiss, taking your time as the two of you explored each others’ mouths. He flipped the two of you over, allowing you to kneel above his hips. Gripping your waist, he pulled you back until he was flush with the backboard. He captured your lips with his, groaning as you sunk down on him.

“Holy shit,” he moaned, his eyes rolling back as you enveloped him.

You both remained still for a few moments, savoring the feeling of each other. Your hands drifted around his chest, slowly moving upward to grasp his shoulders. You consumed his lips, too addicted his touch to leave them by their lonesome.

“When will we go back?” you asked in between kisses, gasping when he shifted underneath you.

His lips drifted towards your neck, grinning, “At the end of the week.”

You sighed, dragging your nails along his thighs as you heard his answer, “Well, we better make the best of our last free moments.”

He hissed into your neck, dragging his teeth against your skin, “I can’t argue with that, angel.”

You shifted, running your hands into his hair before gripping it. Leaning forward, you slowly started to ride him, relishing in every push and pull you felt inside of you. He grasped your calves, allowing you to have more leverage against him. Soon you fell into your rhythm, your hips moving back and forth as moans escaped from the two of you. Skin slapping against skin, you felt his hands leave your calves only to resurface on your hips. Attaching your lips to his, you groaned as he took control, using your hips against you as he thrust into you. Your slow pace long forgotten, you relaxed and enjoyed the ride. Thrust after thrust, you fell apart as he hit the right spot over and over, making your whole body convulse. He continued his pace, grinding against you as your high brought his own.

“Fuck!” you moaned, riding out your climax. “Jason!”

Sagging against him, you closed your eyes and sighed, burrowing yourself into his chest. Kissing his chest, you wrapped your arms around him, listening to his heartbeat as his breathing slowed. You felt him loosen his grip on your hips, rubbing them before tracing up your spine. Shivering, you let out a laugh and tried to move away from his hand, moaning as you accidentally ground on him. He laughed before wrapping his arms around you, massaging your back as you recovered.

“(Y/N),” he began, hesitating for a moment, “you’re sure you want to do this, especially with me?”

“Without a doubt,” you replied, removing your head from his chest. “I was done, Jason, done with life itself after that day… but our plan for Gotham changed that, you changed that.”

He smiled, letting out the breath he was holding, “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“And I you,” you said, twirling a finger around his white streak. “You gave me purpose, Jay, something I never thought I would have again. We are the cure to Gotham’s disease, she needs us. Together we’re unstoppable.”

“Yes, yes we will,” he agreed, a smirk crawling onto his features.

You pushed yourself off of him, groaning at the loss. Grabbing a robe, you quickly slid it on and stood up, wrapping it around yourself as you stared into the adjacent room. Jason grunted as he removed himself from the bed, quickly moving beside you. Wrapping his hands around your waist, he followed your eyes, smirking at the sight of your suit.

“I can’t wait to see his empire burn,” he muttered, his grip tightening.

“From the ashes a new Gotham will be born,” you said, a smirk growing on your face. “Speaking of… did you get it?”

You watched as he entered the room, noticing that he placed his sweatpants back on. He opened a drawer, pulling out a syringe and small bottle. Your body shivered at the sight. Jay chuckled at your reaction, guiding you back to the bed. You watched as he sucked the green liquid into the needle, pulling one side of your robe down. Closing your eyes, you bite your lip as the needle pierced your upper arm. The dull pain instantly went away, your breathing quickened as you felt your body warm itself. You didn’t notice him removing the needle, only focusing on how good it felt to have it running through your veins. Opening your eyes, you watched as the rest of your remaining scars melted into your skin, disappearing from view. He kissed your shoulder, rubbing where the needle once was.

“Where was it this time?” you asked breathlessly, getting lost in the feeling of the Pit’s effects.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” he answered. “This Pit was undiscovered, only we know about it.”

“Good,” you muttered, sighing when you couldn’t feel it anymore. “Are there anymore scars?”

He glanced at you, “None that I can see.”

His hands drifted to the knot you tied, laughing when you smacked it away.

“Uh uh, we’ve got some things to prepare for,” you scolded, playfully smacking his shoulder. “God, that felt good.”

“Well, you know there’s more where that came from.”

[bubblepop-32]

If Bruce was De-aged and the only one who could make him stop screaming is Jason. (Part 2)

Bruce gets de-aged, but his memories aren’t as young (but not as old) as what they’re supposed to be. And he desperately needs Jason.

I wanted to read de-aged Bruce with our man Jay but I literally can’t find any ;A; So I sacrificed sleep and wrote this. 

There’s going to be good ol’ fluff and bonding between Jason and small Bruce, but there’s also going to be angst and suffering, and more angst. And swearing (mostly from Jay) 

Here’s >> Part 1 << (Visit me before u keep on going cos I was born first! D:<)

~~~

Jason rolled up at the looming front gates of the manor, feeling somewhat chilled after taking blasts of high winds as he sped through Gotham’s bare streets. Even with his thick gloves and high-grade clothes that are designed to keep the wind out, mother nature always has ways to intervene. The gates opened, opening their long metal arms to welcome him in.

He rode his bike up to the front door, where he hopped off and had a moment to think about what he was getting himself into. Do I really need to do this? He considers the events that could happen after Bruce returns to normal. He’ll probably banish Jason from ever setting foot in Gotham ever again, probably for seeing him in such a vulnerable state. He'll probably still hate him, even more so since Jason would be the reminder of both his failure and his recent embarrassment.

Ha. Why was he even here when everyone could’ve waited for Zatanna to do her magic and everything would be back to normal again. Zatanna could probably solve everything with her backward spells and her sheer black pantyhose and the black top hat.

So when the large, heavy grand doors opened to reveal Zatanna and Dick on the other side, he did a double take, which gave Dick the chance to speak first.

“I’ve heard that Prince Charmings always arrive fashionably late to parties… and well, I’m glad you’re here.” Dick flashes a small, tired smile that didn’t really stretch as far as his usual signature smiles.

“If this is a party, then this is the lamest one I’ve been at through my entire lives.” Jason fires back mirthlessly. He watches with spiteful satisfaction as Dick’s eyes widened the slightest bit as he processed what Jason said.

Jason’s eyes slid from Dick’s blue eyes to the ugly scab that was forming on his chin. Maybe it hurts for him to smile with the cut. He’s trying really hard to believe that it’s the cut rather than anything else.

Dick noticed the subtle change in eye contact but doesn’t choose to say anything more. He doesn’t want to scare Jason off before Bruce has a chance of letting Zatanna work her magic.

Jason lifts an eyebrow at Dick, clearly wanting answers. The quick glance Jason shot at Zatanna behind him proved to him that Jason was hoping for the same thing he was when he called her in.

“Zatanna’s magic isn’t working.” Dick supplies.

Jason’s entire frame heaved heavily for a moment as he took in a slow breath and exhaled deeply.

“Well…shit.” Jason murmurs. He was hoping that all this was fixed and he that wouldn’t need to hear such agonising screams ever again. He was hoping for a lot of things but none of them was coming true. I should better start hoping that this is dragged out for the longest time possible so that doesn’t come true either.

“I’ll explain the rest inside.” Dick steps to the side, allowing Jason a clear passageway into the house, but he doesn’t miss the reluctance in Jason’s stride as they made their way to the kitchen.

So far so good. Even better than what Dick thought it would turn out. He had imagined that he would have to go knocking on every one of Jason’s safehouses in Gotham, then try and drag him to the mansion.

Jason noticed something was odd the instant he stepped in, though soon realised that it was because Alfred wasn’t the one who opened the door to let him in. Even now, Alfred who was most definitely most attentive to offering ‘guests’ tea was not here to do so either. (Jason knows he’s not a regular, not anymore.)

Dick, now somewhat upholding Alfred’s spot as the butler, asked, “Do you want tea?”

“I want tea, but not yours. Alf’s going to murder you in your sleep if you touch his fine chinas.” Jason stepped between Dick and the glass display case, retrieving three cups with foreign gentleness.

“Damn, you just got rejected.” Zatanna mused as she moved to watch Jason handle tea leaves with care. But Dick seemed almost happy that Jason started brewing tea. Alfred seemed to have taught Jason a whole lot more things than either Dick or Bruce knew about because his muffins were second to the ones Alfred made. But that was all back then.

Soon enough, they were all gathered around the counter each with a cup of tea in hand. Silence enveloped as Jason took a sip, his gaze somewhat distant as he did. Dick took advantage of this moment to gather his thoughts, and how he was going to present everything to Jason.

He knows he has to ease the facts in as gently as possible. A shocked Jason can soon become a frustrated Jason, who will soon turn into an angry Jason. But Jason beat him to it.

“So, tell me that Bruce isn’t de-aged into some fucking ten year old and that phone call I got wasn’t real.” Jason eyed Dick, daring him to say ‘yes all this was just to prank your gullible ass.’

Dick sighed, blowing steam away from his tea. “Bruce is ten. He still is, and still will be unless we figure something out.”

“And, Jason, if what I think about this little situation with Bruce is correct, then you will play a huge role. Just to let you know, it’s not my magic that isn’t working,” at this, she sends Dick a look. “Bruce himself is the one who’s unconsciously refusing to let me to temporarily lock away his memories. Most of the memories anyway. I’ve sealed away what I can.”

“Wait, so you haven’t tried changing him back yet?” Jason growled, somewhat annoyed.

“I was getting to that. You see, space-time continuum must have been broken for Bruce to be ten years younger. In fact, I don’t think this is as simple as ‘de-aging.’ I’ve tapped into his energy signature and it’s slightly different from Bruce’s usual one.” Zatanna says, now clearly shedding new light onto the case since Dick’s face became even more contorted into confusion.

Jason gathered that this was the first time Dick was hearing this too. “You’re saying that time travel is involved in this shit and this Bruce is really him from long ago.”

“Yes, but the thing is, energy signatures remain the same no matter what age,” Zatanna adds as she tucks a dark lock of hair behind her ear. Dick’s face went a little paler and his dark eye bags seemed to have become even bigger. “Some exchange must’ve happened between this universe and another universe. Messing around the space-time continuum is a messy thing, and I’m guessing the memory mix-up is a result of it being ripped.”

Jason concentrated on the aroma of freshly brewed tea rather than on the shock that was about to be hitting him right about…now.

“That sounds like a…rather complicated deduction.” Was what managed to come out of Dick before he laced his fingers and pressed them to his lips.

“And that’s why I haven’t tried re-aging Bruce. The only thing I can do for him at the moment would be to lock away some of his memories, otherwise, he would practically break,” Zatanna concluded. “Whenever I tried to speak with him, he began screaming. He was screaming your name, Jason.”

Jason looked back at the reflection of him that rippled in the tea. “Still doesn’t explain why I’m here.” He murmured.

This time, Dick was the one who answered. “You’re the one who’ll be able to calm him down. I’ve tried, Zatanna’s tried, even Alfred’s tried.” He eyed Jason with his fervent blue eyes hooded behind his long, dark eyelashes. Jason’s eyes never left his tea. “But he keeps calling for you.”

A loud, pensive silence overtook them. The magician added something more in a smaller voice. “…I believe that there is a high possibility that this little Bruce, still has his parents back in his world.” That would be like rubbing salt into a bleeding wound, no doubt making all the memories that flooded into Bruce mind that much harsher and crueller.

That was another shock to Jason because if Bruce never lost his parents, Batman would never have come to be…and Jason would never have to be who he is. He might’ve been able to go to Uni, get a degree and not needing to cringe every time he sees a crowbar or bury bullets into heads.

He imagines standing in front of a mirror, seeing himself but standing straight, his shoulders light without burden. He imagines staring into calm blue eyes, like the ones he once had, and black hair brushing at just the tips of his lashes. No white. However, the image was nothing more than a mirage; a soft haze that would linger at the very back of his mind but never leave or step into the light.

If there was ever an even bigger shock, Jason felt betrayed by his own emotions. He fucking feel peeved about how he wasn’t angry about the fact that he was called here for reasons that are only based on theories or for Bruce.

Alfred’s paced footsteps arrived at the boundary between the kitchen and the hallway. “Master Jason, it is wonderful to see you here. I am glad to see that the chinaware has remained, for the moment, intact.”

Maybe the one thing he would miss if Bruce never became Batman would be Alfred. So something in his heart twinged when Jason saw Alfred standing by the doorway with the most forlornly expressed face Jason has ever seen him show. Jason feels the ache in his chest worsen as Alfred walks closer, allowing Jason to really pick up the subtle changes in the way his body glided across the open space. Alfred’s frame was slightly bent over, his back not as straight and his nose held just a little bit lower. As long as ‘Batman’ exists, Alfred’s ongoing exposure to all the suffering and the shit that goes on will never cease. Jason feels the anger inside of him being boiling once more – but he felt immediately because Jason was one extra thing Alfred had to deal with.

Jason loves the guy and he hates the things he’s done to the butler, taking years off his life for worrying over him when he didn’t need to. He’s done nothing to deserve his care.

“How’s Bruce?” Dick lifts his head and asks. The weariness they both shared seemed to have established a mutual sense of understanding. Dick knows that Alfred has personally stepped up to take the responsibility of taking care of Bruce – like he always has. Alfred understands that Dick feels useless about not being able to do anything, but he also understands that Dick understands that he’s doing what he can as best as he can.

“He has worn himself out to the point of exhaustion. I must say that it is for the best right now. I’ve removed all things that a young boy like him can break and throw. It was quite the feat to stop him from breaking multiple bones in his body.” Alfred’s expression melted into collected despondence. No one knows how he can pull off such conflicting emotions with calm professionalism. But then, people learn from experiences and this wasn’t the first time Alfred has seen something like this.

Dick could only imagine what Alfred had to struggle with when Dick rushed into the bat cave carrying a glassy-eyed Bruce who was swimming in the swaddles of his Batman costume. Dick thought that it was just shock and a terrible concussion.

He first called Damian down to the cave. Damian had a grey hoodie on with tight black jeans, with his growing fringe bobby-pinned back. That kid has been too busy acing school to get a haircut, much to Alfred’s constant reminders. Damian sarcastically commented on how delinquent-like DIck looked with the newly healing cut to the chin.

Dick briefed him over what had happened (though, leaving out how everything about how reckless he got). A villain wannabe, real name Jeremy Fritzleburg, or less commonly known as “the InventorDoc,” (Damian snorted at the name), de-aged Bruce (to which Damian snorted at again before an ear-shattering scream rang from somewhere within the cave – that was when they both knew something was wrong).

Dick told Damian to go check on Bruce whilst he called Tim and told him to come in as soon as he can. He wanted to get the broken pieces of whatever the InventorDoc invented to be analysed and hopefully understood so that they’ll be able to do something.

After more than ten minutes of pacing around, biting his thumb, he thought that calling in Zatanna would be a good option. His thoughts were confirmed when Damian came running back to him, eyes wide and undoubtedly shaken, but refused to admit what had shaken him so bad. He immediately dialled the famed magician, telling her the important point to convey the severity of the situation.

On the way to Bruce, Damian lagged slightly behind Dick.

“What’s wrong Dami?” Dick had asked but didn’t get a reply. It was only until Dick was nearing the place that Damian grabbed Dick’s arm.

“He doesn’t remember me.” Damian had whispered.

Dick paused abruptly, heart suddenly shuddering in his chest. “Go back up and wait for Timmy and Zatanna, yeah? I’ll…I’ll talk to him.”

Damian held on for a bit longer before letting go. He glanced up at Dick, “Father is barely able to talk in his state,” and then swiftly left.

Dick continued walking and swallowed thickly as he drew ever nearer. Soon, he was face to face with a small, fragile-looking Bruce writhing on the ground with blood trailing from his bloody hand and smearing onto the floor for he had dug his nails into his palms. Bruce’s skin was sheen with cold sweat. His small body trembled as he took in shallow, rattling breaths, but found that he lacked the ability to stand back up.

Dick rushed to help as Alfred must have disappeared to brew hot chocolate. Alfred would never leave Bruce alone like this, nor would Damian. Memories must’ve had rushed in sometime between Damian leaving and Dick arriving. Except Dick didn’t know that memories were what was putting Bruce through such an ordeal.

When Dick’s hand touched Bruce’s small shoulder blades, the child flinched and fell sidewards. Dick saw a face that resembled Bruces’s, but rounder, softer, younger but contorted by distress and fear. Bruce’s blue eyes were wide, his pupils dilated. Dick thought that it may actually be a new kind of toxin that could take the form of a ray. He doesn't know what he’s thinking anymore! Bruce was in a bad shape, and Damian was right. There was no way Dick could get through to the Bruce that was shaking in front of him. There was absolutely no flicker of recognition in Bruce’s eyes. To him, Dick was a stranger.

Dick had drawn his hand back, feeling unexpectedly hurt by Bruce’s reaction. He couldn’t really help that, despite telling him that it was unjustified to feel hurt when he shouldn’t be.

“Master Dick?” Alfred had called as he appeared with bandages.

At that, Bruce’s eyes intently bore into Dick’s face, cataloguing every detail, every bump and wrinkle. His wide eyes paused at the cut on his chin before shakily meeting Dick’s gaze.

“Dick?” The voice was small, shaken and weak, like a candle flame diminishing by the second. But a small flame of recognition was there.

“Y-Yeah that’s me, B.” Dick reached out to touch Bruce, but he still recoiled from his hand. Recognising Dick must’ve triggered something else in Bruce, because he clutched tightly at his own head and curled in on himself, letting out a pained groan.

Dick was torn between putting his hands on Bruce’s small back and not touching him at all, but chose to close it into a fist instead. “Tim will be here soon, ok? Hang in there.”

After several strenuous breaths of air, Bruce replied with something that froze Dick to the spot.

“W…who’s Tim? W-where’s…” Bruce’s eyebrows furrowed, creating crinkles in his youthful skin as he began recalling the one name that he wanted to say. “…Where’s Jason?”

“He’s not here.” Dick rushed back with a reply. Maybe Bruce just didn’t see Damian’s face properly. Dick thought that Bruce must have temporary amnesia due to the sudden changes done to his body. “But Tim, he’s your son. Lives on coffee, and Damian, he’s your current robin-”

Bruce seemed especially insistent about Jason, rather than about Tim or about Damian. “…not here?” This time his voice was slightly clearer but still as disjointed.

Cogs were turning in 10-year-old Bruce’s head as the memories started gushing in, turning so fast that they were burning. Pieces upon pieces of his memory rained down and he was drowning.

“Where’s Jason?!” Bruce was pleading now, eyes blown wide once again. He tried pushing himself up to search the cave with his sporadic gaze that was glowing with a feverish need to know where Jason was. Bruce’s breathing became hard and fast, which was quickly going to spiral into hyperventilation.

“Master Dick, it is not an apt time for you to be here.” Alfred shooed Dick gently out of the way so that he could as quickly and softly unfurl Bruce’s hand to bandage. “Master Bruce, you must control your breathing.”

Dick stumbled to stand up and back away. This…This wasn’t right. Something’s off. At that moment, the fear of not knowing what was affecting Bruce overtook him. He had to fix this. Otherwise, Bruce would never be the same and he wasn’t prepared for that.

Dick squeezed the mug of warm tea in his hands. Right now isn’t the time to think back. They need to think forward; think of ways to fix all this and make sure Bruce is going to be ok.

Jason placed down his empty cup of tea. It was still warm to the touch.

“Where is he right now?” Jason murmured dourly. Dick looked at Jason with a newfound sense of hope, despite how little it was.

--

I was going to end this a bit earlier, but I had to get Dick’s flashback in before I ended it. 

I have a headcanon (something where one as an individual, you think/want to be canon) that Jason’s eyes used to be blue, but turned aquary-green after he got tossed into the pit (despite the fact that he’s shown to have aquary eyes before he died - I sorta like the ‘change’ he undergoes pre to post-resurrection).

Maybe I’ll post the next part sometime :) been hella stressed cos of tests and due dates for my major work ,><,

Take care, fellow readers~

Next part: >> Part 3 << 

[talkoncornerswhitelightinblue]

Road to Eden

I posted this on AO3 and gifted it to two FriskeyHeads. This is my second outing on Whiskey Cavalier. I will be posting the first soon. :p

Will's entire body is still aching from the events of yesterday. He could barely stand up this morning and owed it to Jai keeping him awake at the witching hour. He manages to come to work; boosting the team's morale is his excuse. He promises himself that he will not complain how his muscles are sore because those kids they saved from that abandoned camp had been there far longer than he was, frightened and starving. But it is already the afternoon and with no mission to save the world, he wishes that, for the first time, he had stayed in bed. He is worried, though, because today is Wine Day with Frankie and he doesn't want to tell her that he wants a rain check. He likes drinking with her...and ice cream.

They have been together for quite some time now but they actually haven't done the deed yet. He wants to take it slow so as not to scare Frankie away. He knows what she is like so he is giving her time, to get to know her more and for her to adjust. Emma agrees with his decision because, as she told Ray a few weeks ago, she also ran away from almost everything due to the nature of her job at MI6. Emma is also apologetic for barging in on Will and Frankie's intimate moment back in Spain, when the latter confessed that she likes drinking with him. The Londoner agent has become his confidante in regards to his relationship with Frankie and he knows that Frankie also talks to her, and Susan, regarding Will. His thoughts are interrupted by Frankie knocking on his office door.

"Are you ready?" she asks.

Will smiles and answers, "Of course. Ready as always."

Frankie flashes him that million-dollar smile he really loves on her. She has become quite open with him since that night at his place, after France. Still not how open he wants her to be - she still has her secrets - but it's enough for now. She needs time and he's giving it to her and he knows that she appreciates it. He winces as he gets up from his chair. Damn muscles! Damn Kenner!

Frankie notices that Will winced. He is still aching from what happened yesterday. After the debrief and them parting ways at The Dead Drop, he went straight home. He did call her to tell her good night but she noticed that he was walking gingerly when he entered the bar's door this morning. She also noticed that he needs more sleep and wondered what kept him awake.

"You okay?"

Will looks up at her.

"Yeah, I'm good. Got my keys."

"You sure? You know we can schedule this another day."

"I'm sure. And it's Wine Day. You can't schedule it another day when you already set a specific day," Will reasons.

"Oh-kay," Frankie says, rolling her eyes.

Will knows she saw the way he moved today or she wouldn't have asked him to reschedule. He's a man of his words, so to speak, that he doesn't want to break their rules and honour their day. He's letting Frankie drive, though, to compensate.

"You're driving," he says as he tosses the keys in her direction.

Frankie's eyes light up. Will knows that she likes to be in control at times so he lets her and she enjoys it. It is also his way of letting her know that he's biding his time when he can get to know more of her and that he's careful in what he wants. Giving her time does come frequently in his thoughts. Time for Frankie is his friend.

They reached Will's apartment in half an hour and he notices that Frankie has gotten quite comfortable. He tries to get off his jacket but grunts because of his burning muscles.

"You sure you really want to do this?" Frankie asks again. "I'm getting a little bit concerned."

"I'm okay," Will lies but he knows that she sees right through it because she raises her eyebrows. "Fine. Yes, I still want to do this because it's our day. And yes, it hurts all over because of what happened yesterday and Jai keeping me awake this morning to bond."

"Jai kept you awake?" Frankie enquires.

"Yes. I wanted to sleep because I'm really exhausted and he put bugs in the apartment and put on that loud Bollywood music he really loves."

Frankie wants to laugh but she doesn't. She understands Will now, why he seemed so tired when he entered The Dead Drop's front door this morning. And she knows Jai; when he puts his heart on something, he will do it whether or not you're tired or even sick. It's actually his way of caring for people. She surmises that the bugs are still there, wherever Jai had put it, and wishes that he isn't listening. No one knows yet.

"Okay, old man," she begins. "Why don't we sit on the couch and I'll give you another massage."

Will gives her a small smile. He likes her touch. Her massages are comfort to him the same way that Frankie finds comfort in his touch whenever she feels down or even when she's tired. He allows Frankie to take charge in the kitchen as he goes to the couch to relax his tender muscles. Maybe he is an old man; unbeknownst to Frankie, he actually finds it adorable when she calls him that. Frankie doesn't like pet names but he considers her calling him an old man as one. His eyes are closed when Frankie sets the food and wine on the coffee table.

"Whiskey," she says, quietly. "Get up."

He opens one eye and tells her, "Ready?"

"Yes. I need my partner to be in tip-top shape, as usual."

He smiles knowingly at her, calling him her partner. She notices and rolls her eyes.

"You know what I mean."

But she grins when she says it. She knows perfectly well what Will means. She never intentionally meant it that way but it's who they are now. They don't acknowledge it publicly but privately, a lot of kisses and wine nights in each other's apartments happened since that mission. They haven't had sex yet and Frankie wonders why at times because she knows that Will must have wanted it. But she surmises that he is being careful, fearing that she might run away. She wants to but she's trying hard to hold on to this relationship because, even if Will annoys the hell out of her most of the time, she wants him very much. She has never felt anything like how she feels about Will since her parents died. She feels that all her emotions died with them but here comes this person who is extremely patient, caring, and loving, balancing her out. She never expected that there will be one of them out there.

She settles next to him on the couch and drinks from her glass. She presents him with ointment and motions to take off his shirt. At that, Will looks at her quizzically. She rolls her eyes again and sighs.

"How in the world can I apply ointment on your aching body," she starts. "When you don't want to take off your shirt in front of me?"

"Fine," he replies, cocking his eyebrows. "Don't blame me if you..."

"I'm sure I won't," she retorts. "I didn't even look at your ass yesterday."

"Right," Will counters as he takes off his shirt. Frankie's breath hitching doesn't go unnoticed. "See?"

"It's not..."

Frankie is at a loss for words. Will turns around and sees her looking at his left bicep. Frankie looks up at him, guilty.

"I'm not...it's not...I was just..."

Too guilty.

"It's okay," Will tells her. "I got it the day after we buried my brother."

He knows she was looking at his tattoo. He didn't know that she is actually fascinated by inked skin. The only time he remembers is when she was "admiring" that scumbag's tattoos and he thought she was pretending. That scumbag is the reason why they are together, though.

"Who is it?" she asks, lightly touching his arm with her fingers, admiring his tattoo.

"Saint Christopher," Will responds. "He's the patron saint of travellers. I figured, you know..."

He stops and Frankie studies him. He is open to everything but she knows even he has a hard time talking about his brother. She taps his shoulder and he glances at her. She tells him silently to lean back, to talk to her, the massage now forgotten. Maybe she can make the pain go away, both physical and emotional, if she allows him to just talk. He as a lot of questions but he follows her silent order.

"Tell me," Frankie instructs.

"Frankie," Will begins.

"Please," she continues. "I want to know."

Will looks at her, questioningly. Frankie wants to know his about his family matters and it's not like her at all. She usually doesn't want to know other people's stories, except perhaps Jai because of their history before Team Whiskey. She wants the product, not the story or in her own words, things she doesn't already know. But here she is, her own eyes boring into him for details.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"Never been so sure in my life," she responds, her hands on his inked shoulder. "Tell me," she repeats.

Will takes her hand on his and kisses it. She settles beside him, legs tucked. He goes on to tell her that the tattoo is a tribute to his fallen brother Kevin, a marine, who was killed in Afghanistan. After the funeral, he decided that he would join the military to serve the country. He has chosen Saint Christopher because his brother would travel to a peaceful place and he would be travelling the world for his country. He tells her that he feels safe with that inked on his skin because he feels that his brother is always with him, guiding him wherever he goes, near or far. He continues to tell her of his every adventure, including wanting to get another one in India, and all the while, Frankie sits there listening, her eyes never glazing over. He observes her reactions and she's genuinely listening to him. It touches him that she's doing this.

Frankie feels a tug at her heart. She realises that they're closely the same. She lost loved ones and he, too, lost his. She sees that he was close to Kevin and that him getting killed serving the country took a toll on him. But Will being Will soon turned his brother's death into inspiration. She admires him more and more everyday that they are together. She's getting to know him, why he is who he is, and she realises that she actually wants it. She wants Will to tell her everything, even if it annoys the bejesus out of her. It's not about bonding with him. For her, it's about having someone in her life who cares for her, and who she cares for, unconditionally.

"Is it a good thing or a bad thing?" she wants to know.

"A little of both," Will answers, smiling. "Keeps hope as a possibility in every single situation, whether good or bad."

They stare into each other's eyes, both lost in how green both pairs are. Without warning, Frankie leans in and kisses Will, pushing him back on the couch to his surprise. It's a possessive kiss and she has her hands on his bare chest as she straddles him. Will, still cognizant that he doesn't have his shirt on, gently pushes her away, fearing what might come next. He looks at her intently, challenging her to tell him what she wants to do.

"I want this," Frankie says, voicing out the very thing that Will is worried about. "I know you think that I'm going to run based on how you know me. I cannot promise you that I won't but I'm trying. But I want this."

She gestures around the apartment and Will's whole body.

"I don't have my shirt on," Will cajoles.

"Will," Frankie insists, frustrated, putting her hands on either side of his face. "Stop annoying me. I told you I want to."

Will lunges up and kisses her back, passionately, possessively, all pain forgotten. The second his lips touched hers, Frankie sighs and is lost in the moment. She lets him take control and he takes it.

At The Dead Drop, Jai smiles to himself. His friend is opening up little by little and he likes it. He thanks all the Hindu gods - Shiva, Brahma, Vishnu, Krishna, all of them - for Will and shuts off his radio.

Clothes are scattered throughout Will's apartment the next morning and the smell of pancakes wafts in kitchen.

[soybeantree]

be careful what others wish for pt. 3

pairing: erm…ofc/mark, ofc/jinyoung, markjin…kind of parts: o1 | o2 | o3 genre/rating: LITERALCRACK! fluff. word count: 4.8k    a/n: so this is the sequel to this story here. not completely necessary to read the first story. basically bodies get swapped and craziness ensues. italics is spoken korean.

The stewardess came over the intercom to announce that the plane would be landing soon. Dee sat up and adjusted her chair, so it was in the full upright position. She couldn’t believe she would be back in Korea soon. Yugyeom had managed to get them on a flight that next day. So after a few hours of sleep, she and Mark had headed to the airport for their not so few hours of flying. She had tried to get some extra hours of sleep during the flight, but her brain was hyper aware of the fact that Mark Tuan’s soul sat right next to her.

He did not seem to have the same problem she had and slept like a baby through the whole flight. She supposed it was because he was used to life on a plane. She had only been on a handful of flights in her life and had yet to master the art of sleeping on a plane.

The stewardess came, startling Mark. He apologized and sat up adjusting his seat as well. “We’re here.” Dee nodded and glanced out the window. Lights spread out below them, illuminating the city. Mark leaned over her to look out as well, and Dee caught her breath at the closeness. She could tell her mind that the body was Jay’s a thousand times, but her brain still knew it was Mark. “How does it feel to be back?” Mark asked as he sat back in his chair. “Good.” She paused. “And strange. I never thought I’d make it back, so I’m happy that I have. But at the same time I wish the circumstances were different.” She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. Her emotions were a jumbled mess, and she couldn’t tell how she felt about any of this. She wanted to sit down with Jay in Jay’s body and talk everything out. “I’m excited you’re back because once we switch back, I can keep my promise.” Mark beamed. “What?” “Before you left, I told you the next time you came to Korea that we would spend the day together in our own bodies.” “Oh, right.” She had pushed the conversation to the back of her mind and tried to forget it. The lingering hope of his promise hurt too much because she was certain she would never make it back. Goosebumps covered her flesh at the mere idea of him fulfilling his promise, but she chose to ignore them. “Dee?” The girl glanced over at Mark, and the expression in his eyes captured her. “Why did you stop messaging me?” Dee froze, her mind going blank. She had hoped to avoid this question and this conversation and had thought she was safe when Mark failed to bring it up during their time together. For a month or so after the switch, she and Mark had messaged back and forth, meaningless things, asking about the weather, how they were adjusting after everything. The messages slowly died out. It had been months since the last time she had messaged him. “Life went on.” She lied. “I fell back into my old routine. Work became more hectic. Same for you, I’m guessing.” She forced herself to smile, to pretend, but her farce failed. Mark held her gaze, forcing her to look away. She blinked a couple times to keep herself from crying. It had to be time to land and leave this increasingly suffocating place. “Dee?” “What do you want me to say?” She faced him again. “Huh? You stopped messaging me too, Mark. Why was that? I’m sure it’s the same reason I stopped messaging you.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Everything that happened that day was ridiculous and impossible and neither of us had any control over it. We had to live through it together, but when that ridiculous situation ended, we both realized we had no place in each other’s lives. I couldn’t cling to some stupid fantasy of something happening between us. You didn’t need another fan girl, and it was already hard enough to say good-bye. I let it end there, and so did you.” Her eyes never left Mark’s, and for the first time, she was glad he was in her friend’s body. If she had to watch his true face fall the way Jay’s did, she would not have been able to handle it. The wheels touched down and the force threw them both forward, cutting off any response Mark might have had.

Sitting in the baggage check, Jay switched between watching the arrivals board and the doors which the new arrivals passed through. Jinyoung had accompanied her to the airport and sat beside her, a mask and sunglasses hiding his face. Jay sported both as well, ignoring the discomfort. She knew the importance of anonymity and had no desire to be mobbed by fans at the airport or cause a scene for Got7.

Jinyoung leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands under his chin. Jay watched him from the corner of her eye. As her mind drifted back to the conversation they had had before coming to the airport. She had spent most of the day locked up in Mark’s room because technically the idol didn’t have to be anywhere, and it was easier than pretending to be him. By the afternoon though, Jinyoung had decided that she needed to get out and eat. They had gone to a small restaurant a few streets down from Mark’s apartment. The conversation had been light and friendly until Jinyoung told her, “You’re Korean has gotten a lot better.” The statement had stood on the fence between a statement of fact and a question, and Jay had chosen to take it as a question. “Well, when you spend your days living in fear that one day you’ll wake up in a Taiwanese Kpop stars body, you tend to take precautions.” Her voice was supposed to have sounded carefree and upbeat, but exhaustion had seeped in. “You were afraid it would happen again?” She shrugged. “You never mentioned that before?” The before he referred to was the weeks following the incident.

After Mark gave her Jinyoung’s number, they had messaged back and forth. Mostly, the messages were Jay explaining what had happened, as she had promised she would, and Jinyoung asking questions about the incident. “I didn’t really talk about it with anybody. Not that I could. I doubt there are many people with similar experiences.” The conversation led her back to those early days. “What happened?” His voice was soft and soothing. Jay had leaned back in her chair. “I had nightmares those first couple weeks. I’d wake up in the middle of the night and have to go through a full body check before I could calm down and go back to sleep. After a while, I could just tell myself I was me, and it’d be okay. Then the nightmares came less frequently. They actually just stopped coming. I think I had my last one two months ago.” She had paused, searching through her memories. It really had only been a few months. “I suppose they’ll come back now though.” She sighed as her mind slowly returned to the present. Jinyoung nodded along, saying nothing as she shared the aftermath of her experience. “Mark didn’t go through anything similar?” She asked. A head shake answered the question. “If he did, he never said. Mark’s quiet.” “I can understand that. I didn’t really tell Dee any of this either.” “Really?” Brows rose. “I thought you two were closer.” “We’re probably too close.” Jay had chuckled. “But when it comes to things like this… I don’t know. I tend to keep things like this to myself until I’ve figured them out. I know I shouldn’t. That I should talk to others and lean on them for support but-” She had paused and glanced over at Jinyoung. His eyes had held her firmly in his gaze. All of his attention was hers. She had swallowed and looked away. “Anyways. We should probably getting going. It’s a bit of a drive and their plane will be landing soon.” Pushing herself up, she had started towards the doors, but Jinyoung didn’t follow. Glancing back, she found him still in his chair with his eyes still on her. She had blinked at him and motioned for him to follow, but he didn’t move. With a sigh, she had backtracked and come to stand over him. “Why aren’t you coming?” “You did this last time too.” “Did what?” Jinyoung had glanced up at her through his lashes, and Jay had had to tell Mark’s heart to chill. “When our conversations became more personal, you stopped talking. Why?” His voice had cut through her, and the look in his eyes had left her speechless. When she had stopped messaging Jinyoung, she had thought the idol would be relieved. Her messages had always been long ramblings. Meeting his eyes, she told him the truth. “I’m not stupid,Jinyoung.” “I never-” She had held up a hand to stop him. If he wanted the answer, he had to let her talk because if she stopped, she would never start again. She would bury everything so deep that even she couldn’t find it again. “As I was saying, I’m not stupid Jinyoung or naive. Yes, I’m loud and ridiculous and go off on weird tangents, and I know people think I can’t be serious, but I’m firmly rooted in reality. And the reality of this situation is that I have a huge crush on you. You’re my bias and have always been. For goodness sake, we’re in this whole mess because I made a stupid wish to spend the day with you. However, despite how I feel about you, I know that nothing is ever going to happen between us. Putting aside the fact that you’re an idol and I’m not and that we live in two completely different countries, you’re-” She paused as she searched for the right words. “You’re a crackling fire, Jinyoung, and I’m a firecracker. And I know that probably doesn’t make a lot of sense - like I said tangents - but it’s the truth. You deserve to be with someone calm and level headed who can offer you good advice and support. And I deserve… to probably spend my life with a goat because it’s the only thing louder and more obnoxious than me.” Jay had paused as she let her mind catch up with her mouth. “In the end though none of my reasons matter because even if I like you there’s no way that you could like me because of my aforementioned reason. So when we were talking and I found myself falling even harder for you, I put an end to it before I could embarrass myself or hurt myself.” Jinyoung said nothing when she finished her tirade for which she had been grateful. She hadn’t wanted him to make some half-assed attempt to make her feel better. Not that she really thought he would have. The idol was too straight forward for that. “We should get going.” She had walked off again, and this time, she hadn’t waited for him to follow.

Now they sat together in awkward silence as they waited for their friends to arrive. She was ready for this whole experience to be over, and if she had to pour concrete into that damn wishing well to ensure this would never happen again, she would.

The arrivals board flashed to show that Mark and Dee’s flight had landed, and Jay stood up and walked closer to the arrival doors. If Jinyoung followed her, she didn’t know. The first rush of people flooded through the doors, but Jay didn’t recognize herself or her best friend in the flow. She used every ounce of Mark’s height to her advantage as she stood on her tiptoes to scan over heads. “There they are.” They were the first words Jinyoung had uttered since their meal. Jay glanced to where his finger pointed, and nearly cried out with relief. Dee stood next to her body, glancing around. Rather than waving them over, Jay took off through the crowd. Her arms were around Dee before the girl new what happened. Her friend struggled against the hold and shoved her off. “What the he-” But realization dawned on her as her mind placed the body.  “You really shouldn’t just run up to me like that. I am in no way used to you in this body.” Jay chuckled before turning to Mark. “Do you think it’s okay if we hug?” Mark moved her head from side to side before smiling and nodding. She threw her arms around her body and nearly cried. “I’ve missed you so much.” She whispered. “I’ve missed you too, Jay.” “I wasn’t talking to you Mark. I was talking to my body.” Mark stiffened in her embrace, but she was done with the hug anyway. Pulling back, she scanned him from head to toe before circling him. “What are you doing?” Mark spun during her observations. “I’m making sure my body is still in good condition.” “What do you think I would have done to it?” The two continued to bicker as Jinyoung approached Dee and gave her a gentle hug. “Welcome back to Korea. I’m sorry for the reason though.” Crinkles peaked out from the sides of his sunglasses, hinting at a smile. Dee sighed and nodded. “Thank you. I hope Jay hasn’t been causing too much trouble.” Jinyoung stiffened but shook his head. Dee registered the reaction but chose to keep her silence. The two turned to watch their friends who were still bickering. “Were they like this last time, too?” “Worse actually.” Jinyoung side eyed Dee, and she laughed. “Just be grateful that they’re bickering with each other instead of ganging up on us. Last time, I swore I’d kill them both. They were so annoying. That being said I’m leaving them with you while I go get our luggage?” Jinyoung started a reply, but Dee gave him a quick pat on the shoulder before scurrying away. “Are you both satisfied that your bodies are fine?” The two broke away from their argument to stare at Jinyoung. Jay’s spirit dimmed while Mark’s blazed. He smiled and threw his arms around his friend. The sight left a dull ache in Jay’s chest. She felt like she was disassociating but didn’t know if that was completely accurate for the situation. Yes, she was having an out of body experience, but she was quite literally out of her body. She continued to watch her body interact with Jinyoung and the ache deepened. She believed what she had told Jinyoung, and the truth only made the situation more painful to watch. When Dee returned with the luggage, Jay nearly kissed the girl, and for a moment wondered if Dee would mind. In the end, she had settled for giving her friend another hug and picking up her suitcase while Dee carried her own. The two headed out, leaving the boys to trail behind them.

The four piled into a taxi and headed for the JYPE building where Yugyeom was hiding out. True to his word, he had remained in hiding since the revelation of his role in the switch. The taxi ride was dead silent as each of the four sat lost in their thoughts. When the taxi pulled up to the building, Jay paid the driver while Jinyoung and Mark unloaded the luggage. They entered the building and headed up to the practice room where BamBam was waiting for them.

As they entered the room, BamBam stood up from a couch and came to stand before them. His eyes shifted between the four. Jay and Mark waited patiently for the younger man to process, though both were ready to jump him for his phone. “You’re really Mark?” He pointed at Jay’s body. Mark nodded. “I can prove it.” There was a gleam in his eyes that sent a shiver through BamBam. He shook his head. “It’s still so weird.” The body switchers glared at him, and he chuckled. “I suppose it is weirder for you two. Here stand together so I can take a picture and send it to Yugyeom.” The two moved closer together, and after a shared glance, both lifted up their middle finger to the camera. BamBam snorted as he snapped the picture. His fingers flew across the screen as he sent off the message. His part complete, BamBam turned towards Dee who hovered near the door, her hands grasped in front of her. “Hello, Dee,” he moved to stand in front of her. “It’s nice to meet you in person… again. Though I don’t really remember meeting you the first time. I’m sorry. It was a very busy day.” “It’s okay I understand. I don’t really remember meeting you either. It was a crazy day for all of us.” She smiled. BamBam’s phone buzzed, and four pairs of eyes were on him as he pulled it from his back pocket. “Yugyeom wants to meet Mark on the roof alone. If anybody comes with Mark, he’ll leave.” BamBam’s eyes scanned the screen as he relayed the message. The four exchanged glances as they mulled over Yugyeom’s request. “If it’s what he wants, and it’ll end this wish then whatever.” Jay said as she plopped onto the couch. Dee joined her friend on the couch, giving her agreement to the request. “I can always kill Yugyeom later.” Jinyoung smiled. Mark nodded at each of them and started out the door. He stopped on the threshold and glanced over his shoulder at the assembled crew. “I think it would be odd if me as Jay walked around the building alone.” Three sets of eyes fixed on BamBam who had gone back to his phone. Feeling the pressure of their gaze, he glanced up and gave them a half-hearted smile. “Fine. I’ll go.” The two left and made their way up to the roof.

A fierce wind blew as they stepped out onto the rooftop, and Mark tucked Jay’s hair behind his ears, but the wind plucked it out again and threw it in his face. He would be very happy once he was back in his own body. While there were some perks to being Jay, he much preferred to be himself. “Yugyeom! Where are you?” He shouted over the wind. BamBam huddled behind him. The younger boy had come up without a Jacket, and the winter wind was not gentle. “Come out before BamBam freezes to death!” A rustling sounded over the wind, and the two turned to find Yugyeom coming out from behind the roof access. Mark motioned for him to come closer, and the boy took a few hesitant steps toward them. “Yugyeom, I would like to be back in my body before tomorrow.”

Closing the distance, Yugyeom glanced at the girl who said she was his hyung. “You’re really Mark?” “Do you remember back during our trainee days when you used to stay up late watching Dramas in the practice rooms instead of practicing, and one time an instructor caught you and you lied and said you were practicing with me and ended up calling me at 3 in the morning to cover for you?” Yugyeom blushed and nodded his head. “You said you owed me a favor. Now, you owe me two favors.” Yugyeom spluttered, but Mark raised a brow and thinned his lips. He knew how intimidating Jay could be. The younger boy quieted. “Okay, hyung.” He mumbled. “But how do I finish the wish.” “BamBam introduce us.” The shivering idol glanced between the two but nodded. “Yugyeom, this is Mark as a girl. Mark as a girl, this is Yugyeom.” Mark extended Jay’s hand which Yugyeom grasped, but Mark never felt the warmth of his touch. He lost all sense as his vision faded to black.

“Hyung!” “Hyung!” Two voices desperately screamed. The noise pounded against Jay’s already aching skull. She scrunched up her face and buried it deep in the warmth which embraced her. Arms held her tightly pressed to a chest. As she inhaled, she caught a heady scent of cologne. Sniffing again, she relaxed into the embrace, content to stay there forever if not for the shouting. “Can you please shut up?” She growled. The voices stopped, and she smiled. “You’re not hyung anymore are you?” Yugyeom. Her mind registered the voice, and slowly afterward, the question. Her eyes creaked open, and she found herself staring up at Yugyeom as he cradled her against his chest. The idol gazed down at her, his face the picture of confusion. She nodded in answer to his question. “Are you Jay?” She nodded again. “Are you going to kill me?” She nodded a third time. His Adam’s apple bobbed slowly. “Don’t worry.” She patted his face. “You get to run. I’m gonna kill you, but you get to run.” Yugyeom dropped her, and she flailed as she crashed to the ground. Pushing herself up, she found the rooftop lacked one Kim Yugyeom and that the door to the access shed was swinging. “Are you really going to kill him?” BamBam asked.   Jay stood up, brushed herself off, and rolled her head from left to right until she heard the satisfying pop. “Yes.” And she was off. Even with his head start and long legged stride, Yugyeom was no match for Jay’s fury filled sprint. She caught up to him as he sped down an empty hallway towards an exit. Pumping her legs, she pushed herself forward and leaped onto the maknae’s back. The force thrust him forward, and he stumbled over his legs as he tumbled back and crashed on the ground. Jay clung to him the whole way down even as her back hit the floor. Her legs were wrapped around his torso and her arms locked in a vice grip around his neck. “What the hell were you thinking?” Jay hissed as Yugyeom struggled against her hold. His nails dug into her arm, but she ignored the pain. “Do you think it’s fun to be in someone else’s body?” Gasps were his only response. And that’s how BamBam with the other three in tow found them. Dee rushed to the maknae’s rescue, but Jinyoung held up a hand. “We can leave them a little longer.” “I’m not letting my friend go to jail for murdering that idiot.” She pushed past his arm. “Jay let him go.” She threatened. Her friend immediately unclenched her arms and legs. Yugyeom gasped for air before collapsing back on Jay who lay beneath him panting. “You’re heavy.” She growled as she pushed him off. Whatever protest Yugyeom had was curbed by the threat in Jay’s eyes. Dee extended a hand, helping her friend up while BamBam attended to the idol. “I take it everyone is back in their respective bodies?” Dee glanced between the affected who both nodded. “Good.” She sighed and nearly collapsed from relief. “You’re scarier than Jinyoung.” Yugyeom rasped, rubbing at his throat. “Damn straight I am.”

“No, she’s not.” Jay and Jinyoung’s responses overlapped each other, and the two eyed the other. “I’m much scarier than you.” Jay taunted, flipping her hair back. Jinyoung snorted and smirked at her. “I am putting a stop to this before it starts. Mark and I have had a long day, and I just want to eat and go to sleep.” Dee said. The collective agreed.

Much to Dee’s chagrin all six went to dinner together. She had hoped for a quiet evening with just her and Jay to debrief on everything and allow her time to recover from her conversation with Mark. However, Yugyeom had insisted on taking them all out to dinner after Jinyoung had politely suggested the idea to him. Mark sat to her right, and the full force of his presence in his body left her breathless and dizzy. She had only been around Mark in his body for a few minutes the last time which had been flustering enough. Having his arm constantly brush against hers made concentration impossible. Jay seemed to have a similar problem. The normally boisterous girl sat mutely across from Dee with Jinyoung to her left. She huddled into herself avoiding all contact with the idol. Dee wished she had the same luxury, but with Yugyeom to her left, she was scrunched between the idols. A chair separated Jay from BamBam, and with the way Jay was eyeing it, Dee wouldn’t be surprised if her friend switched seats. “How did you two meet?” Yugyeom disrupted Dee’s attempt to catch her friend’s attention. She turned towards the younger man, and as she did her shoulder brushed Mark’s. With steadfast resolution, she ignored her physical reaction and answered the question. “We met in college. We lived across from each other in the dorms.” “And you’ve been friend’s ever since?” Yugyeom continued. Dee nodded. Through thick and thin, for better or worse, they had remained friends.

“How did you two get into Kpop?” BamBam asked, and immediately regretted. Jay came out of her stupor to glare the boy into remorse. “Why do you always do this to me?” He pouted.   “It’s not just you. She does it to me too.” Dee chuckled. “She did it to our manager too.” Mark added leaning forward on the table. “When I went to the airport last time to say goodbye he came with him, and Jay scared him so much he thought she was possessed by a demon.” Everyone chuckled at that while Jay blushed. “Well, after he screamed my ear off, he deserved it, and you two-” She pointed between BamBam and Yugyeom. “Deserve it for all the trouble you’ve caused.” The two in question bowed their heads and apologized for the thousandth time. “Jinyoung-hyung, has she ever glared at you?” Yugyeom asked, bouncing back from his scolding. Jinyoung sat back in his chair, so his gaze could encompass all of Jay. She stilled under his gaze, and Dee watched the two. Her friend should have been boasting about her ability to scare even the most stalwart of people, but under the idol’s gaze she was mute. Jinyoung’s eyes traced the outline of Jay’s face before coming to rest on her eyes. The pressure of his gaze became too much for Jay, and the girl raised her eyes to meet his. The whole interaction happened in seconds, and the others around the table missed it, but Dee filed it away for later. “No, she hasn’t, and I don’t think her glare would work on me.” A thin smile slipped across his lips. Dee waited for her friend’s rebuttal, but it never came. Instead her friend, shrugged her shoulders and sipped at her water. The reaction dropped the smile from Jinyoung’s face. Before anyone could say anything else, the food arrived. Mark grabbed Dee’s from the waiter and placed it in front of her before grabbing utensils from the center of the table and passing them to her. She thanked him and stared at the food. Earlier her stomach had been on the verge of eating itself, but now she found herself with no appetite. Mark didn’t seem to have the same problem. He wolfed down his food as he laughed and joked with his friends, explaining all the weird things that came along with being a girl.

Jay watched her friend pick at her food. She wanted to lunge across the table and shove the food in her mouth or at least hint to Mark that he should romantically feed her friend, but she did neither. Rather she watched her friend. Something had happened. That had been obvious since the ride from the airport, but the two had yet to have a moment alone to talk about it. “What do you two want to do while your here?” Yugyeom turned the conversation back to the girls. “Sleep.” Was Dee’s weary reply. Jay nodded with her, switching bodies was exhausting. “What about after that?” He asked around a mouthful of meat.

“Are we going to have time to do anything?” Dee questioned. “What time is our flight tomorrow?” The maknae blinked. “Tomorrow? You’re return flight isn’t until after the new year.” Dee’s jaw went slack. Jay just started laughing, a small delicate laugh with the potential to turn manic. Yugyeom’s eyes darted between the two as his mind raced to read the situation. “What? I thought you two would want to stay and celebrate the new year.” He whined, his lower lip jutting out. Dee sighed, the movement making her shoulder’s fall. “That was very thoughtful, Yugyeom. Jay and I have always wanted to spend the new year abroad. Thank you for providing us the opportunity.” Her words mollified the boy who smiled with relief. “This works out perfectly. Now, I can keep my promise.” Mark beamed down at Dee who paled at the prospect. Mark appeared oblivious to the girl’s reaction and re-joined his conversation with Jinyoung.

[werewolfdays]

snippet - A Painful Scare

Nadya doesn’t always leave an encounter unscathed... -

“Jayde, you gotta chill out.” Toby said as I paced back and forth in the middle of the safe house. 

I ignored him and continued to pace, keeping my eyes glued to the front door and occasionally going to look out the windows for my sister and Nadya. Or any suspicious behavior. The clock was ticking. If they didn’t show up soon, then something must have gone wrong. I hated leaving them, but I didn’t have much choice when we got ambushed. Splitting up was the best move we could’ve made. At least that’s what I kept telling myself to keep me from losing it. 

“Jayde,” Toby groaned at me, “Seriously, you’re starting to make me antsy. They’re fine.”

“You don’t know that.” I grumbled.

“Yes, I do. It’s Skye and Nadya, they can take care of themselves.” He said it with enough confidence that nearly made me believe him.

But my brain couldn’t stop running through worst case scenarios. “I know, but anything can happen.”

When I looked over at him, I saw Toby clench his jaw and light a cigarette. Even with his confidence, he was still as worried about them as I was. Tick, tick, tick… 

It felt like an eternity. My own words were echoing in my head over and over. Anything can happen. I was about two seconds from going back out there to find them when both Toby and I sensed movement at the front door. My body tensed, preparing for the worst, getting ready to release my anxiety in a rage if I needed to. Toby moved to stand right beside me, ready to back me up. 

The door cracked open and the first one through was Skye. Relief washed over me, and I started to rush over to my sister to check if she was okay, but the look on her face made my steps falter. Skye’s guilty expression was silently begging me not to be mad. 

Before I could ask, Nadya stepped into the safe house. I felt like I could finally breathe, knowing that she was alive and here. But something was off. I noticed Nadya was holding her left arm in an odd way, her expression twisted in a pained grimace. Nadya’s weary gaze met mine and I could see her quickly try to bury whatever was wrong in a forced calm. My heart started to race.

Nadya held up a hand to placate me, “Jay, don’t freak out.”

I immediately went to her side, my eyes desperately scanning her body for any injuries. My stomach flipped when I smelled blood. Her blood. Unsure of where I could touch her, my hands gently and tentatively cupped her face. I was about to ask what happened when my line of sight caught it. Carefully turning Nadya’s body, the crossbow bolt sticking out of the back of her shoulder came into full view. 

“Shit...” Toby muttered behind me.

I felt a range of emotions in quick succession. First I felt sick. Thinking how much pain she must be in. How hard she must be working to try and hide it from me. Then I felt guilt. I allowed her to be hurt. Again. This wasn’t the first time Nadya could’ve been killed because of me. Lastly, I felt rage. Rage at myself. Rage at who did this to her. And rage at someone else besides me or her attacker. 

I glared at my sister, “What the hell is wrong with you!?” Skye balked in shame, but opened her mouth to argue. I wouldn’t let her. “I asked you to do one thing! Look after her!” 

“Jayde!” The surprising force of Nadya’s voice nearly made me flinch. “This isn’t her fault.” 

I shut my eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself as much as I could. When I opened them again, I looked at Nadya and the bolt in her shoulder. My chest ached at the sight of it. “What do I do? How do we fix you?” 

Nadya’s scolding glare lingered on me for another moment before she replied, “Get the first aid. We need to get it out.” She started towards one of the rooms. Skye and Toby rushed off to get supplies while I followed Nadya, putting an arm around her waist for support. Nadya made her way to a bed, sitting down and letting out a tired sigh. 

“You don’t want to do this in the bathroom?” I asked.

“No, I might pass out.” Nadya’s answer made my heart drop into my gut. “Can you get my jacket and shirt off? You’ll have to cut them.” 

“Yeah, okay.” I said, taking my pocket knife out. The blade ripped through the fabric, and even trying to be as careful as possible, my movements jostled the arrow enough to make her whimper. “I’m sorry.” I mumbled, helping her shrug off the ruined jacket and then started to work on her shirt. 

Nadya let out a tired half-chuckle, “Not really the way I like you ripping my clothes off.” She wasn’t really the type to joke during serious situations, which means that I must have looked as freaked out as I felt. 

“Don’t worry, when you’re all healed up we’ll get back to the way you like it.” Looking at her, I couldn’t bring myself to use an amused tone. 

Skye and Toby came into the room once Nadya’s bloody shirt was discarded. “Okay, how do we do this?” Skye asked.

“Well, you can’t just pull it out. The arrowhead is barbed.” Nadya huffed, and I got the sense I wasn’t going to like how this would be done. “We don’t really have the proper tools to cut it out either.”

“Then we need to take you to a hospital.” I decided.

“No, it’s too dangerous.” Nadya argued, “We can do it here, it just won’t be ideal.” Then her eyes locked with mine, “Or pretty.” 

“So, what do we do?” Skye chimed in again.

Nadya took a couple breaths before she answered. “You’re gonna have to force the bolt all the way through my shoulder.” 

“We’re taking her to a hospital.” I told the others, wanting nothing to do with that idea.

“Jayde, I can handle it.” Nadya said.

“No, we’re not doing this. We don’t have anything for the pain. You’d be awake for the whole thing.” I felt frightened tears begin to well up. 

But Nadya made up her mind. “We can get this done and over right now. If you take me to a hospital, we can all be put in danger. This is what I want.” 

Everything in me was screaming against this. “Nadya,” I shook my head at her.

“I promise you, I’m going to be okay.” She assured me.

I dragged my hands over my face, looking at Toby and Skye. They looked just as disturbed as I did. Skye couldn’t even look at me, not that I had time for that right now. Our options were limited, but I hated this. And I hated myself for letting this happen. My gaze found Nadya’s again and her expression was imploring me. 

“Fuck, okay.” I relented, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “I don’t think I can do it, though.”

“I’ll do it.” Skye offered.

Once I nodded, Skye and Toby started getting everything ready. Nadya moved to lie on her right side, and I knelt beside the bed. The relentless pounding in my chest started to pick up. I didn’t want to see this, but I couldn’t leave Nadya. She needed me. No matter how much it hurt to see her like this, being there for her was more important. It also made me realize how Nadya must feel whenever I get myself hurt. This was harder than being shot or stabbed. I would even prefer some of the tortures I endured for years to watching what comes next. 

“Skye, use gloves or something to grab the bolt. It’s silver.” Nadya said over her shoulder.

There weren’t any gloves, so Toby quickly grabbed Nadya’s tattered jacket and ripped off a sleeve, handing it to Skye. She took a few seconds to wrap it around her hand, protecting her skin from the burns that the silver would leave. Skye positioned herself on the bed behind Nadya and prepared to grab the arrow. 

I grabbed Nadya’s hand to get her full attention. “Hey, look at me.” Her usually warm brown eyes were shining with fear, “You squeeze my hand as hard as you need to, okay?” She nodded and I kissed her knuckles. When Nadya’s body started to tremble nervously, Toby came over, sitting at the foot of the bed and placing his hand on her leg to offer more support. 

Skye hesitated for a second more, “Do you want me to count to three?”

“No, just do it.” Nadya said quickly. 

The entire room fell into a tense silence. Skye lay a hand on Nadya’s arm for leverage and gripped the bolt with the other. Just that small amount of contact caused Nadya to suck in a pained breath and squeeze my hand. This was only the beginning of it. 

Once Skye started to push, Nadya couldn’t hold back an agonized cry. It was a sound that I’ve never heard her make and could’ve gone my entire life without missing. Her grip on my hand became a vice, I was surprised by her strength. Pushing the bolt through was more of a struggle than I was hoping for. Skye was still going, and Nadya began to writhe, her face twisted in agony. It was bad enough that tears started to fall and she was holding her breath for long moments at a time, releasing it in swift, shaky gasps. The arrowhead wasn’t even through her shoulder yet.

Nadya let out another gut-wrenching cry and I couldn’t take it. “Stop, stop!” I told Skye to get her to hold, “She needs a break.” 

“No!” Nadya groaned, “Keep going.” 

Skye looked as conflicted as I felt. She could tell how much pain Nadya was in too, but we all wanted this to be over, so after another beat of hesitation, she cursed and did as Nadya asked. 

As soon as Skye continued, Nadya started making tortured noises again that would echo in my head forever. I’ve never seen her in so much pain, and I felt incredibly helpless. All I could do was hold her hand and tell her it was going to be over soon. My mind was cursing out everything and anything that allowed this to happen to her. It should be me on the bed right now. I would do anything to switch places with her. 

Finally, the tip of the arrow pierced through the front of her shoulder. With more force, the entire arrowhead came through. Blood seeped through the exit wound and the smell of it almost made me physically sick. Skye grabbed the front of the bolt so she could pull instead of push. Getting the arrowhead through was the hard part. With a good tug, Skye pulled the bolt out completely and everyone in the room sighed in relief. 

Nadya’s breathing started to relax with the rest of her body and I brushed some strands of hair out of her face, wiping away her tears, “Worst part’s over, my love.” 

Skye got two alcohol swabs ready. “Sorry about this.” She said and pressed both to the entrance and exit wounds. Nadya tensed again, screaming in pain once more, but this was mercifully quicker. “Jayde, can you put pressure on the exit wound while I stitch the back up?” 

“Yeah.” I reluctantly let Nadya go to do what Skye instructed. Nadya looked too far gone to notice the absence of my hand anyway. I glanced over at Toby while Skye worked, “Get her some water.” He looked pale, but nodded and left the room. 

I watched Nadya. It seemed like she didn’t feel the stitches going in. Or if she did, she didn’t let on. Either way, Nadya’s suffering was mostly over and I let myself relax slightly. Her eyes were growing heavy, I knew she must be spent by now. “Hey, baby.” I said softly and her gaze weakly shifted to mine, “You did good. Why don’t you try and get some rest, alright?” 

Nadya barely managed to whisper an “Okay.” and shut her eyes as Skye finished treating her. 

A little while later, I was sitting on the bed with Nadya’s head in my lap, gently brushing my fingers through her hair while she slept. Hoping that I was soothing away some of the trauma she just went through. I still felt sick about it. And furious. But at least she was going to be okay. That’s what I needed to focus on. 

Toby and Skye stayed in the room with us, watching over Nadya too. Skye must have felt like everything calmed down enough to speak to me, “Jayde, I’m sorry.”

My anger flared up again, perhaps irrationally. “I asked you to watch her back, and you bring her to me with a bolt in it.” I said bitterly.

“I didn’t even see where it came from.” Skye explained, “As soon as she was hit, I got her out of there.”

“Well, that’s because you weren’t careful. Now, look at her.” I snapped, trying to keep my voice quiet so I wouldn’t wake Nadya. 

Toby interjected, “Jayde, you’re not being fair.”  

Skye’s green eyes burned. “You think I don’t feel shitty? She’s my pack too, Jayde, and as much of a sister to me as you are. I blame myself as much as you do.”  

Their words sank in as I took a long sigh. I knew Toby was right. And I knew Skye felt awful. When my anger settled a bit, the rational part of my brain surfaced. This wasn’t Skye’s fault. Deep down, I knew I didn’t actually blame her. She was just the closest thing I could lash out at. It was really myself that I was angry with. Nadya’s safety was one of the most important things to me. Whenever she was threatened, it made me go crazy. Made me throw rationality out the window. I knew that could be toxic. Right now it was hurting the people closest to me. I have never been so angry with Skye, and it was hardly warranted. If I couldn’t let go of this rage, the least I could do was direct it inwards where it belonged.

“I’m sorry.” I eventually told my sister. “I shouldn’t blame you… This isn’t your fault.” 

Skye looked genuinely surprised by my apology, “Really?”

“Look, I know I’m being an asshole. I can’t even fucking think when something happens to her,” My eyes drifted down to Nadya. I let myself be calmed by her steady breathing, the rhythmic thumping of her heart. “But that’s no excuse. It’s not on you.”

I felt guilty at how long it took Skye to process what I said. She wasn’t really expecting me to be so forgiving this easily. Maybe if it was anyone else besides Skye or Toby, I wouldn’t be. Nadya’s safety was non-negotiable, but their wellbeing was just as important to me. Even though Nadya was hurt, I was beyond grateful they were okay. I suppose I forgot about that in the stress of the moment. 

After a minute, Skye nodded gratefully at me. She didn’t seem to know what else to say so the room fell quiet again. Now that Nadya was taken care of, I started to think about our next move. I didn’t really like the idea of dragging Nadya around while she was healing. There weren’t many humans that I’ve spent time with, so I wasn’t sure how long it would take for her to fully heal. I just knew that it would be slower than us. This safe house was too close to where we got ambushed for me to be comfortable letting us stay here. Maybe we could go to one of the other ones. Or the Lodge. That was a long journey from here, though. Whatever choice I came to would have to be soon. 

I broke the silence, “I want her to rest a little longer, but we shouldn’t stay here.”  

“Where then?” Toby asked. 

“Another safe house, I think. We need a place where she can take some time to recover.”

Toby nodded in agreement. “I can call my dad. Ask for another location.” 

“Thank you.”  

Toby went off to make the call and I focused on Nadya again. The bandages were stained, but she didn’t bleed too badly. Her skin wasn’t too hot either, so no fever. Nadya knew how to properly take care of her wound, which would give her a good recovery. All in all, it could’ve been a lot worse. Still, this was a major fuck up on my part. I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done if anything worse had happened to her. Or if I lost her. I didn’t even want to think about the latter.

Nadya got a few hours of sleep. The rest of us were too anxious to get any rest. Toby’s father gave us the address for the closest safe house about five-hundred miles away from here. It was a little far, but I felt comfortable with the distance that we’d have from this area. We’d be as safe as we could be. Nadya would be safe.

I helped Nadya put a light sweater on while the others gathered some supplies from the safe house that we’d need and load it in the car. It was a struggle for her with her injured shoulder, but we managed to get it on with the minimal amount of pain.

“You’re not still mad at Skye, are you?” Nadya asked. 

“No, I’m not mad.” I answered, “I never should’ve been mad at her.” 

Nadya looked pleased that I admitted that, but also added, “Don’t blame yourself either.” 

I sighed. “Then who should I blame?” 

“How about the guy that shot me?” Nadya stood up, wincing as she moved her shoulder slightly. “You know, he was aiming for Skye.” 

“What?” Was Nadya implying that she took a crossbow bolt for Skye?

“If I didn’t step in the way, he could’ve killed her.” Nadya explained.

An internal struggle caused me to scoff humorlessly. Of course I didn’t want my sister to get hurt, but the fact that Nadya was willing to put herself in that much danger terrified me. “Nadya,” I started, unable to find words.

“Don’t worry, I’m not turning into you.” Nadya said gently, “Honestly… I thought he knew I was human. I didn’t think he would shoot.”

“Oh, Nadya…” I pulled her into an embrace, careful not to hurt her shoulder. “Thank you for protecting my sister. Even if you did give me a goddamn heart attack.” 

Nadya clutched me tightly with her good arm, “I’d do anything to protect you all.” 

“We would do the same for you.” I ignored the fact that her statement scared me, and leaned back so I could look at her, resting my hands against her cheeks. I never knew that the warmth of someone’s body could comfort me so much, but feeling the heat of her skin under my touch relieved every panic I felt today. I placed my lips on Nadya’s forehead in a prolonged peck as I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath so she would fill all of my senses. “Promise me you’ll be more careful.” I whispered once I rested my forehead against hers.

“Only if you promise me the same.” My eyes were still closed, but I heard the smile in her voice, like she already knew I wouldn’t promise that.

I can be full of surprises, though. “I promise.” 

Nadya’s lips met mine in a slow kiss. The gentle way her lips moved against mine calming me with every fluttered heart beat that drummed in my chest. My thumbs caressed her cheeks, but we didn’t deepen it. We just enjoyed the simplicity of each delicate stroke that our lips made. I could tell that Nadya was taking as much solace in these soft kisses as I was. I could feel her fear fade away with my own. For a blissful moment, everything faded away. 

When Nadya finally pulled back, she looked at me, her voice quiet as she said, “Liar.”

I let out a soft chuckle. “I’ll try not to be one.” 

“You guys ready to go?” Toby asked, poking his head into the room. 

I looked to Nadya and when she gave me a nod in confirmation, I glanced back at Toby. “We’re ready.”

[ariahearthockey]

Love Me, If You Will - Chapter 1

Prologue

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Fandom: Men’s Hockey RPF

Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin

Tags: 2017 NHL Playoffs, Concussion, Memory Loss, Medical Inaccuracies, Unexplained Medical Conditions, Alternate Reality, Time Travel (sort of), Pining, Fluff, Porn With Feelings, Happy Ending (sort of)

Soundtrack: Dancing On My Own - Calum Scott

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Chapter 1

Sidney wakes up with a weird feeling churning in his gut. His head is pounding, the room is spinning and the air is unseasonably cool for summer. The sky outside is still quite dark, sans the burst of deep orange brimming low on the horizon. He rolls over to his side and squints at the clock on the nightstand, and it confirms his suspicion. It is a little more than an hour before his alarm is supposed to go off and he groans in annoyance.

There is no way he can go back to sleep in the state he is in—with the nagging headache and all—but the idea of leaving the warmth of his bed seems really unappealing. He tries to recall if he has done anything stupid the night before like drinking his own weight in champagne to merit him such dire consequences, but he knew the answer is 'no'. The action can be justified easily since he has just won the Stanley Cup two years in a row, but he dislikes hangovers more than anything. So, like a petulant child, he buries his head deep in his pillow and pulls the cover over his head as an effort to will the pounding in his head to subside.

Then, he hears it. The noise of someone snoring, low and deep. It goes on for a little while before the bed moves, and a hand sneaks up around his waist and tugs him backwards. His back collides against a flat, sturdy chest and the warmth from it almost made him forget the one big question in his head. Has he brought someone home yesterday and totally forgot about it? Say it isn't so because no matter how many times he has done this, he still dreads the awkward morning after that is almost guaranteed when they are both much awake later, especially when he doesn't remember a thing about it.

He doesn't think he was that drunk, even if so, he is usually more careful about bringing his hookups back home. One blabber mouth could mean scandal and it is unlike him to have total blackout like that. But before he has the time to contemplate his actions or that of his alcohol tolerance, he is distracted by the bursts of warm breath against the back of his neck, soothing him and arousing him all at the same time. The sudden rush of blood in his body eases his headache a little and he hums quietly when he feels the soft press of lips against his nape, sucking and licking lazily until his skin feels tender.

And then there lies the most difficult dilemma. He contemplates if there should be a repeat of what he’s had yesterday—call it a refresh of memory or whatnot—or there should be some kind of resistance on his part before things get even more awkward. On one hand it seems like the right thing to do, not taking any more advantage of whoever that is in bed with him right now, because duh, he was raised to be a gentlemen. But on the other hand—where even the most chivalrous of a man would have a difficult time to resist—is the evident hard bulge that is currently digging into the crease of his ass. It feels huge to say the least, and he shudders just thinking about how delicious it will feel if he gets to ride it until he comes.

And then a groan comes from behind—all low and breathy—and it all but sends his blood rushing towards his own dick. His breathing picks up when the hand on his waist slips underneath the waistband of his sweats, and plays with the coarse hair near his crotch. His body grows hot and wired, and any thoughts of not wanting another go with this stranger is conveniently tossed out the window, together with his dignity as he spreads his thighs wider. The stranger seems to like it, and he groans that deep, throaty groan again. He has to bite down his own lips just so he doesn't make any more noise that could embarrassed himself further and relents himself to the soft touch of the very skilled fingers. But then, like sticking a stick into a spinning wheel, something in that voice makes his eyes shoot wide open, and when he realises why the voice sounded so familiar, he is more awake than being doused by a barrel of icy water.

"Mmm, Sid.."

A million warning alarms start to go off in his head at the same time. He knows that voice, he knows that accent and he knows it far too well for it to be real or for it to be moaning his name like that. He bounces away from the bed so quickly, it is an awe he doesn't trip over his own feet and fall flat on his face. Instead, he stands a few feet away from the bed, feeling absolutely flabbergasted and confused as hell.

"What the fuck! What are you do—uh—"

The rest of his sentence dies in his throat as he takes in the picture in front of him. Geno, naked as a jay bird, is stretched out on his bed, with a wonderfully tousled bed hair and a sleep-warm face. The lack of light in the room hides absolutely nothing at all and honestly, he isn't sure where to look, or if he should look. It is not to say that he has never seen Geno naked before, quite the contrary actually. With them being on the same team for a little more than a decade, he has had his fair share of Geno's nakedness in the locker room. But, to be perfectly fair, never has he thought he would be seeing it in a setting quite like this.

"Sid? Baby, why you leave? Is cold. Come back and I'm make you warm."

With that, he is officially more confused than he has ever been. He is almost 99.9% certain that he is in some kind of a dream. It would have been one hell of an elaborated dream, but only that will explain why Geno is calling him by sweet endearments or touching him intimately or fucking grinding his hard dick against his ass.

"G—Geno. What—what are you doing in—in my bed?" Sidney sputters through his line of question.

As baffled as he feels at the moment, he can't deny that Geno looks exceptionally good in his bed. When Geno raises his arms above his head and gives his body a good stretch, it makes his throat dry all of a sudden. There is so much of Geno on display—the long stretch of his pale body, the dark hair decorating his chest that trickles down to his abdomen and all those prominent lines when his muscles flex underneath the taut skin. And then there is the very impressive package that he felt against his ass not too long ago.

"I'm sleep. Of course I'm in bed." Geno says it like it is the most obvious thing in the world. And it is, except that it isn't.

"Well, yeah. But what are you doing sleeping in my bed? And why are you uh—," Sidney questions again with his hands waving frantically in the air, "—naked?"

"Huh? I'm always sleep naked. I'm tell you, is more comfortable and easy if want fuck." Geno replies with a confidence that will normally make him laugh but right then it just made him want to pull out his hair.

"Wh—what? Okay, Geno. Listen to me. You're in my bed, naked, and with me in it. And you and I uh—we almost—" Sidney is too embarrassed to finish that sentence but judging by the sly grin adorning Geno's face, he doesn't have to.

"Yeah, I'm know, baby. And if you come back, we continue. I'm blow you, then I'm fuck you."

Sidney feels his body going through a tornado of emotions because he is simultaneously shocked and turned on by what Geno said. He shifts on his feet, trying to hide his hardening dick tenting in his sweats. "Oh my god, Geno. How much have you got to drink yesterday?"

"Drink? No drink, Sid. You know I'm never drink before game day."

"What game day? We just won the cup, G. There is no more game until the summer's over or did you forget?

Geno seems to catch on onto the confusion now as he sits up on the bed and looks at Sidney, concern written all over his face. Sidney feels his cheeks heating when he catches himself tracking Geno's every movement—because Geno in his birthday suit is fucking too hard to ignore. He has neither the self control nor the time to chide himself for not able to tear his gaze away right now.

"Sid, you okay? Head hurt? Come lie down, take rest."

Sitting down sounds really good to him at that moment. After all he has gone through since he woke up, he really need to sit and give himself some time to gather his thoughts a little bit. But then, "I would but you're still very naked."

Geno holds up his hands in surrender before he pulls the sheets up to his waist (as if that will help) and pats his hand on the space beside him on the bed. Sidney resigns and goes to him, sitting himself just a few inches away from Geno. He doesn't make any more movement once he is seated, because he doesn't want to accidentally strip Geno of his cover or something equally as mortifying.

"Sid, you feel not good? Head okay?"

Sidney shrugs. "Yeah, no. It's fine. It hurts a little when I woke up, but it's fine now."

"Sid sure? 'Cause Vyas said keep watch for symptom."

Vyas, the head of their medical team, is one hell of an annoying bugger. "Yes, I'm sure, Geno. I have gone more than a month without any symptoms now. I'm fine."

Something in Geno's face tells him that he might have said something wrong—which he really isn't expecting at all. He basically just told Geno that he is symptom free for quite a long amount of time but Geno is looking at him as if that is a terrible news. Like, okay—his head still hurts a little but that is just the champagne's doing. Otherwise, he feels perfectly fine.

"Sid, Nisky crosscheck two days ago. Vyas say is concussion so maybe Sid confuse." Geno explains gently like he is afraid to startle a wounded animal.

"What? What are you talking about, G? We've beaten the Caps a while ago, eh? And we just won the fucking Cup."

"Sid." Geno begins as he scoots closer to Sidney and cups his hands to Sidney's face. "Sid, is okay. I'm know maybe you forget and Vyas say sometimes is normal. But Sid, we not finish round two yet."

Then the confusion starts to really set in because that is just not possible. Sidney remembers clearly that they were well pass his minor concussion and went on to defeat the Caps, then the Sens, and then fucking hoisted the Stanley Cup in Nashville after they shut the Preds out in game six. "Geno, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Today is game four, Sid. Sully say you take rest and then be ready for game five, remember?"

He knows that if he is smart, he should say 'yes' just so he won't attract more unnecessary attention that will surely leads to more unnecessary tests. But then, "No, Geno. We already took out the Caps and then we move on to play the Sens and beat them in double overtime and then the—wait. Geno, are you pranking me? Is this a prank? Shit, did Flower put you up to this? Oh my god, of course he did. I can't believe I actually fell for that. Good job, G. You got me. Ugh, Vegas's gonna have to choose some other goalie because I'm gonna fucking kill Flower!"

"Sid, wait. Okay, calm down. I'm promise is no prank. I'm kill Flower for you if he prank."

"What do you mean it's not—of course it's a prank. If this whole thing isn't a prank, then why do you keep telling me that we're playing the Caps today and more importantly, you waking up in my bed naked?"

"Um, because I'm live here?"

"Oh, right. That's real funny, G. Ha-ha."

"Wait, Sid. You really not remember?"

"What don't I remember?"

The silence that stretches on after that makes him really uncomfortable. It is like the inevitable moment when the blood starts ringing in the ears just before someone is about to receive a monumentally bizarre news.

"Sid, we married. We married for five years."

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[shauds-archived]

Hi, I absolutely love your writing! Your fics on AO3 are amazing, Simplicity is one of my all time favorites. For the request prompts, would you do JaySteph+ tactile? Thank you so much ❤️ have a great day!

Thank you so much! I tried to write you something in the Simplicity verse, but it wasn’t working, so I just tried to match the tone instead.

Stephanie’s a pretty tactile person, and she’s decided that a certain ex-Robin could use some tactileness in his life. Which works out great, because she could use a certain ex-Robin in hers.

They’ve met before, of course, but that was always just fun comm chatter. The first time Jason meets her in person is that week Riddler decided to do a throwback to being an actual threat and set up a dozen or so deathtraps around the city. He’d agreed to give them a hand because deathtraps trumps pissing contest with Bruce, and it was nice for once to be handed intell instead of either beating it out of thugs or stealing it.

It’s not that she appears out of nowhere or anything, he sees her coming, it’s just that she doesn’t look either pissed or any more nervous than he’s used to having people around him. He just assumes she’s going to keep going to meet with one of the Bats huddled together on the far side of the cave and ignores her. Which is… well he thinks is a mistake when her arms wrap around his torso and he jumps like a cat facing off against a very large dog and drops the helmet he had tucked under his arm. A dog that’s warm and smells like vanilla and is squeezing him arm enough to feel through his body armor.

”You’re Jason huh?” She pulls back with a grin on her face before he can react further, squints up at him for a couple moments, studying him with her hands clasped in front of her, not reaching for any weapons. It takes her little over a second for her shoulders to hitch it a shrug he cant’s quite decipher, then hold out a hand. “I’m Steph.”

”Uh.” Jason blinks at the hand hovering between them, then turns to where the Bats are watching the exchange, and then back to her almost hopeful expression. She smiles at him and Jason works against the sudden heaviness in his arm to clap her hand in his own and give it one firm shake.

The smile morphs to a full on grin then and Jason almost wants to close his eyes for how bright it is. “Nice to meet ya.” He gently punches his shoulder when she walks by him and vanishes in the direction of the showers.

”Did she just hug me?” He asks no one in particular and indeterminable amount of time later. A couple of them erupt into chuckles, Jason’s still too dazed to figure out which and beat them down for it.

***

The next time it happens, Jason’s staking out a meet between the two little upstart gangs who’ve figured his old territory in Crime Alley is up for the taking. Killing them’s not the plan, but it won’t hurt to remind them what a good shot he is, then bankrupt them, make a real good example. He’s just waiting for the right moment to pull the trigger on this brand new, never before used, high-accuracy LA115A3 he found in his safe-house a couple days ago.

Talks are heating up, plenty of shouting, and he’s starting to worry he won’t have to do anything to break apart their little alliance when there’s the twang of a line pulling taut and he catches sight of an inky black cape dropping down behind him.

”Not gonna kill em.” He rolls his eyes, expecting Bruce. Instead, he only just manages to flick the safety on before he’s, knocked aside by the sheer unexpectedness more than the force off the half-assed tackle from behind. The tackle hug. He freezes up. So, not Bruce then.

”Hi Hood.” She tightens the hug minutely and presses her cheek against his helmet, then pulls back to squat down beside him. “So what’s the situation here?” She pulls out some binoculars.

”What are you doing?” The phantom feeling of her weight pressed against him strains his voice, but the modulator evens it out for him, and thank god for that. Makes it easier to not have to deal with it.

”Backup.” Her tongue pokes out from behind her glossy lips as she adjusts the zoom on her binoculars, then settles in to watch. “Perks of the whole teamwork thing.” She turns to offer him a grin. “Pretty great huh?”

Jason turns quickly back to his scope so he doesn’t have to look at her anymore. “Don’t need back up.” The shouting has died down and they wannabe crimelords are talking like human beings again, almost look like they’re going to come to some kind of an agreement, almost time for Jason to mess that up.

”Yeah you and every other Batboy.” She scoffs and scooches a little closer to him, close enough that, even though it’s probably all in his head, he can feel the warmth radiating off her.

He does his best to ignore the heat he feels creeping up his neck in response and tries to focus on his job.

***

It happens again, and again. Every time they cross paths, even if only for a few moments even if it’s in the middle of a smack down with a jumble of thugs, she will, without fail hug, or attempt to hug him. Jason checks his pockets, but never finds that they’ve been picked, he never finds that any trackers have been slipped onto any part of his body. She’s never taken advantage of his shock, either before or after to attack him. There is no logical or illogical reasoning he can find behind why she keeps doing this to him.

When he brings it up to Dick one time when they’re stuck in a small lifeboat together, escaping the a yacht that’s just gone up in smoke, and flames, all he gets is laughed at, and Dick gets thrown over the edge of the boat to swim himself to safety. Asshole.

The most confusing part of the whole thing is that, once he’s crossed off any potentially malicious intent, Jason finds he doesn’t mind. He comes to expect when his eyes catch sight of her, and he doesn’t look for paths of avoiding the contact.

“Hey there Jay.” She greets one night while Jason’s making use of the Batcomputer for some chemical analyses he doesn’t have the patience to do in his own right now. Her arms slink around his shoulders and stay there, as she rests her head on top of his. No one calls him Jay anymore and Jason feels warmth building in his chest that has only a little to do with her body heat. “You working on new drugs to build your empire on?”

Jason snorts and, without thinking about what he’s doing, he leans his head back to press against her collarbone. He should be offended, shouldn’t he? He’d be offended if any of the others made a joke like that. At least, he thinks he would. He doesn’t know right now. “Shh”, he presses a finger against her lips, “don’t tell the others.”

She laughs at him and drops her head to his shoulder, she’s resting it on her arms, but he can still feel the warmth, the cool puffs of her breaths against his neck. She smells more of vanilla tonight than usual, or maybe it’s just that she’s so close, and she’s not moving away this time. He spends more time in front of the computer that night that he’s planned on, but somehow, as long as she’s there, he keeps coming up with just one more thing he needs to use it for.

Even when that one more thing is this kitten video he absolutely has to watch, she insists, her lips very, very close to his. He could just… He shakes the thought off before it’s had a chance to fully form and quickly moves on to the next video.

”Hey,” she flicks his ear after a while and Jason turns to her, tries to make it look begrudging. “Everyone’s asleep, you wanna raid the kitchen?”

He glances at the computer and the muppets music video still playing on the screen, then lets his eyes linger on her. “Eh, what the hell.” He shrugs and only flinches a little when her arm links with his as though he needs to be lead upstairs.

***

The first time he actually returns her hug is another time he’s not really thinking, or maybe he’s thinking too hard. He’s sitting on the edge of the highest point of Wayne Tower, watching steam rise up off the styrofoam cup of soup he picked up off a street vendor as it twists it the wind, then dissipates into nothingness against the overcast skies, gone forever. It looks like it should be warm, but he barely feels it, not even when he can bring himself to sip on the salty liquid.

It’s not a day he wants to spend around them. When she shows up, this time without a word of greeting, just to sit down next to him and squeeze her way under his arms to tuck herself against his side, a huge part of him wants to push her away. To let out the all the anger and frustration and bucket loads of emotion he’s gotten so good at hiding behind sarcasm in the name of peace. The bigger part of him though, the part that’s exhausted by a night of phantom pains and laughter in his head; it’s like a black hole that sucks up the rest of everything else and leaves him too cold for the soup to work against.

That’s the part that drops the cup and turns to fold him over her, wrap his arms around her and press her head into the crook of his shoulder and just hold her, just absorb what little he can of the suns worth of warmth she has to offer.

”Why do you keep doing…?” His voice hitches and he stifles it by burying his face in her hair.

”You have a chronic hug deficiency, I like hugs.” Her voice is soft, but steady as her fingers brush against the pulse at his neck, then grip his jacket. “’Nd I like you. Works out.”

Jason tries to laugh, the only response he can think of, but it turns into a sob, and he’s hard pressed to make any other kind of sound for a while.

When he sees her again a week later, neither of them bring it up, but she does give a short, soft, happy squeal when he hugs her back.

***

”Jason.” Bruce says, he’d been about to pull his cowl over his head, but he pauses when Jason doesn’t immediately run off to get started on the job he said he’s help them with – installing some surveillance equipment in some dumbass’s crappy apartment.

”Relax, I got all night.” Jason’s resting against the computer console, slapping Bruce’s big chair in lazy circles while he watches the driveway, listening for the near silent engine of Batgirl’s bike.

”And you’d rather spend that night playing with the furniture than on a patrol.” Bruce still hasn’t put his cowl back on, is still watching Jason, his expression as close to confusion as Jason’s seen since he got back.

”Ya don’t want me here, all ya gotta do is…” he start’s kicking off from the console to approach Bruce.

”He’s waiting for his huuug.” Dick half sings, from where he’s busy restocking his dumb utility bracelets.

”Your what?” Bruce blinks, and now he really does look confused, his eyes darting uncertainly between Jason and Dick.”

”Shut up Dick.” Jason glares warningly when he sees the grinning idiot opening his idiot mouth to speak. Dick, the bastard just grins wider and Jason can already tell he’s going to have to physically stop him.

”Do you want…” Bruce drops the cowl to hang around his neck and awkwardly spreads his arms, “me to give you a…”

”NO!” Jason yells, backing away from the man so fast he almost trips and Dick almost doubles over in laughter. Now Jason knows the owner of at least one of the voices that had chuckled at him that first time, and as soon as he gets his head straight he’s going to…

”Aw, you waited for me.” Stephanie doesn’t appear from the driveway, but from the stairs that lead up to the manor. Jason’s arms close around her, and he doesn’t care so much about Dick’s laughter, doesn’t notice that it cuts off almost as soon as Jason pulls Stephanie close and she burrows into his jacket.

***

”So, I’ve been thinking.” Stephanie shows up at his current safehouse. He doesn’t know how she found it, but he’s stopped trying so hard to hide them, so he doesn’t wonder too hard, especially not when her hands link up behind his neck and she stands on the tips of her toes to get her eyes as level with his as she can.

”Sure ya should be doing that there Blondie?” Jason croaks out as soon as he can find his breath. She’s not in the batgirl suit, or in post-patrol/workout sweats. What she is wearing isn’t particularly fancy, just jeans and a very fluffy looking orange sweater, but it’s… nice. He doesn’t know if he should tell her that.

”You remember how I said you don’t get enough hugs?” She squints at him and tugs his head down just a little more. Jason shrugs in reply and finally let’s go of his doorframe. She cocks her head to the side. “And I also kinda said I liked you, and you didn’t really say anything back?”

”Yeah, you and like five people on this Earth.” He has to think a little to remember that particular conversation. “I’m not sure what…” wait. Jason frowns down at her, but the look she directs at him, eyes narrowed and her brows raised, her lips drawn into a straight line.

”Guess I shouldna used playground terminology on someone as dense as you, huh?” The expression melts away and he has barely a couple seconds to see the red flush across her cheeks before she ducks her head and hides it from sight.

Wait. “There’s no way you meant…” Her head snaps up and it’s Jason’s turn to duck his from her view. There’s really just no way, but he can still feel her watching him, and then her hand gently closes around his jaw and turns his eyes to meet hers.

Her expression is still incredibly serious when she says. “I’ve decided you don’t get enough kisses either, but I can’t exactly tell if you’re up for kisses.”She bites down on her lips and releases the hold her hand has on his neck, the warmth there almost immediately being replaced with an unpleasant chill. “Totally okay of you’re not though, you can still…

Before the traitorous parts of his brain make him reconsider, Jason holds her chin much the same way as she did his, he leans in to meet her lips with his. She lets out a surprised squeak, and Jason almost pulls back, but then her hands are linked up behind his head again and she’s pulling him even closer, and, well the traitorous parts of his brain kind of need oxygen to function well enough to betray him. Jason’s more that up for kisses.

***

Stephanie’s a very tactile person. It probably comes from growing up with a mom who was never quite able to give her much attention, and a father who’s attention Steph didn’t usually want, even if he were willing to give it out. Things are better now, sure, with Dad gone and Mom trying to catch up on the whole bonding thing. It’s great, but it’s a little late for it to impact Steph’s personality much right now. To reiterate, the many hugs and head pats and forehead kisses from Mom are great, Steph has no desire whatsoever to lessen their frequency. In fact, she’s determined to dole out as many hugs and head pats and forehead kisses of her own as humanely possible.

Which works out great, depending on whose side you’re looking at it from, because it’s her unprofessional, but still incredibly expert opinion that Jason hasn’t gotten enough hugs, and she’s in the perfect position to deliver them, along with all the head pats and forehead kisses and… various other forms of kisses he also doesn’t get enough of. And Jason, after a brief adjustment period, is more than happy to soak up all the attention like a touch-starved sponge and respond in kind.

See, it works out great… for Jason and Stephanie that is, for the Bats that have to deal with it just about every second the two of them are together? Not so much.

[queseraone]

Home: Chapter Ten

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As always, you can get yourself up to speed here

I don't wanna hurt you I don't wanna make you sway Like I know I've done before

—Sway (The Perishers)

Jay climbed out of the back of the taxi, heaving his bag over his shoulder as he paid the driver and bid him a good night. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked toward the front door, his nerves starting to get the better of him—maybe coming here was a huge mistake?

But Jay shook it off. Besides, he'd already fucked up enough that night, what was one more screw-up?

He pulled his right hand out out of his pocket, ignoring the shakiness as he raised his fist to knock on the door.

He knocked and he knocked and he knocked.

Just as he was about to give up and walk away, the outside light flicked on and the front door flew open.

"What the fuck?" Will demanded, his voice laced with sleep as he rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes. He glanced back inside at the clock on the wall, "It's three in the morning! What the hell are you doing here Jay? We just got Matthew down like twenty minutes ago."

"Fuck," Jay breathed out as his hand moved to run across his forehead. In the chaos of the evening, he had somehow forgotten that Will and Natalie had just brought their newest little boy home from the hospital. "I'm sorry Will. I just… I'll go."

"No, wait," Will sighed, sliding his fingers through his messy hair. "It's fine… wait, aren't you supposed to be at Ruzek's wedding right now?"

It was Jay's turn to sigh as he shifted his gaze up from his feet to look him in the eye. "I uh… I fucked up man."

At the sight of the pain in his brother's eyes, Will immediately reached out and grabbed Jay's arm, pulling him across the threshold. "Just keep it down, okay?" Will begged as he shut and locked the door behind them. "If the baby wakes up screaming I'm sending you in there to deal with him."

Jay nodded and followed him up the stairs to the guest bedroom. As he dropped his bag on the bed, Will leaned against the doorframe, unable to hold back his yawns.

"Look Jay, obviously I don't know what happened tonight but… it'll be okay."

"No," Jay admitted, kicking off his shoes and collapsing on the mattress. "It won't. Not this time. I've made too much of a mess of things… it's all just so… everything's so fucked up."

"You're exhausted man. You've had a long day. Why don't you get some sleep? I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning."

Jay nodded dejectedly in response, even though he knew his brother was wrong. There was no way he'd feel better in the morning—in fact, without the numbing effects of that night's whiskey, he knew he would feel even worse.

As soon as Will pulled the door shut and headed back to his own room, Jay stripped down to his boxers and flopped back onto the bed. He threaded his fingers behind his head as he reclined against the pillow, closing his eyes and preparing himself for a long night alone with his thoughts.

By some miracle—or more likely, thanks to the alcohol that was still coursing through his system—Jay fell asleep quickly, despite the storm raging within him. And somehow he managed to stay asleep, only waking when he felt the mattress bouncing beneath his exhausted body.

Peals of laughter broke through his cocoon of silence, "Uncle Jay!"

Jay tried to ignore his nephew—groaning and mumbling incoherently—but the little boy was persistent.

"Wake up, wake up!" Owen demanded, his voice growing louder and louder with each passing moment. "Come on Uncle J—" Owen started giggling wildly, interrupting himself as Jay grabbed him and started tickling his sides. He squirmed in his uncle's arms, nearly out of breath from laughter when Jay finally pulled him down to the mattress.

"Who's this little monster in my bed, huh?" Jay chuckled, stopping his tickling to snuggle Owen close and smother him with kisses.

"It's me, Owen!" the little boy shouted before breaking into another fit of giggles.

"Shhh, it's still sleep time buddy," Jay whispered, wrapping his arms around his nephew and trying to go back to sleep.

But it was too late.

The house was quickly filled with the loud wails of newborn Matthew, and within seconds, Jay's door was flung open and a very unhappy Will Halstead stalked into the room. "Jay, what the hell!"

"Um, little ears Will," Jay mumbled, motioning to the six-year-old that was currently snuggled up against his chest.

Will sighed, his expression softening at the mention of his son. "Owen buddy, it's really early. Remember your new baby brother is sleeping?"

"Yeah, and so was I…" Jay muttered under his breath.

"Sorry Daddy!" Owen jumped out of bed and padded across the room to stand at the door by Will.

"It's okay buddy. Why don't you go downstairs and put on a movie or something?" Will suggested.

"Can Uncle Jay come too?"

Jay reluctantly sat up and ran his hands through his hair. As much as he wanted to stay in bed and try to go back to sleep—preferably forever considering how much his head was aching—he just couldn't say no to his nephew. "Just give me a few minutes, okay bud?"

Owen grinned before running out of sight and undoubtedly heading down to the living room. Will laughed at his son's excitement before turning back to his brother. "You look like shit man."

"Wow, thanks Will. Not like you're walking around here looking like a damn supermodel or anything."

"If you're going to be hanging around my house, at least put a fucking shirt on dude." Will grabbed a t-shirt from Jay's open duffle bag on the floor and chucked it across the room at his brother.

Jay rolled his eyes, pulling the t-shirt over his head before dragging himself out of bed and throwing on a pair of sweatpants. "You enjoying the show?" He smirked when he saw that Will was still standing in the doorway, watching him.

"You're an idiot," Will stated matter-of-factly. He hesitated for a moment, then cleared his throat and continued, "So uh… what the hell happened to you last night?"

"I fucked up."

"Yeah, that's what you said last night when you were drunkenly pounding on my front door at three am. What did you do?"

Jay scrubbed his palms across his face, working up the courage to tell his brother just how much of a mess he had made.

"Jay?"

"I uh… Erin. She was… she was at the wedding and…" He swallowed hard, trying to muster up the courage to confess what had transpired, only to practically choke on the words. "I… uh… we…"

Fortunately for Jay, Will could read him like a book—he knew exactly what his brother was trying to say. "You didn't."

The pained look that washed across Jay's face was answer enough. He looked like he was going to throw up.

"But… what about Allie? Last week you were talking about proposing to her! And now—"

"What do you want me say Will?" Jay interrupted, unable to keep the frustration and anger out of his voice. "That you were right? There—I said it. You happy now? Go ahead, tell me you told me so, you know you want to."

Will's eyes widened as he held his hands up in defeat. "Relax. That's not what I want Jay. You know that. I just… I guess I'm just trying to understand here."

"Not sure what there is to understand—I cheated," Jay admitted, disgust evident in his voice. Somehow saying the words felt like a weight off his shoulders and a punch in the gut at the same time. He felt tears springing to his eyes again and quickly buried his face in his hands in an effort to hide his emotions from his brother. But it was a wasted effort; a moment later Will was standing in front of Jay, pulling him into his arms to try to comfort him. And then Jay just couldn't stop himself from crying. "I don't… I don't know what to do Will. Where do I go from here? What do I do? I should have fucking listened to you."

Will waited for Jay to stop trembling in his embrace before he responded. "I'm not going to lie to you man, you fucked up big time. But it's not like I'm in any position to judge. I wish I could tell you what to do but I can't—no one can answer that for you. You have to figure it out for yourself."

"But how?"

Of course Owen chose that very moment to come bursting into the room. "Uncle Jay! Uncle Jay!"

The Halstead brothers separated, both turning to acknowledge the excited little boy running right up to them.

"What's up bud?" Jay asked, wiping his eyes and plastering a smile across his face as he glanced down at Owen, who had now grabbed hold of his forearm.

"Come ooooooon!" Owen tugged on his uncle's arm and pulled him in the direction of the door. "We gotta watch Toy Story! To infinity and beyond!"

Jay couldn't help but laugh. Because even though Owen was the spitting image of his father—Natalie had pictures of Jeff scattered around the house—he had also managed to pick up a lot of Will's mannerisms. Like impatience, for one. "I'm sorry buddy, I'll be right down."

Owen gave him a slightly skeptical look before reluctantly turning and running back out of the bedroom and down the stairs, leaving the two adults alone again.

"I guess I better get down there before your kid gets any more wound up," Jay chuckled as he tidied up his stuff and moved to make the bed. He glanced up when he felt his brother's eyes on him. "What?"

"That's it? You're just fine now?" Will marvelled. "A second ago you were losing your shit and now you're going to go hang out with Owen like everything is normal?"

"Of course not. Nothing feels normal anymore. I'm not sure I even know what normal is at this point. But like you said, I have to figure it out for myself."

Will sighed. "You know I'm here for you, right?"

"Yeah… I know. I guess just need some time to think," Jay shrugged as he brushed by Will and headed down to the living room.

Jay pretended to watch the movie with Owen—he laughed at the right parts and cuddled his nephew close at some of the scarier moments—but the entire time his head was elsewhere, deep in thought. By the time the credits were rolling across the TV screen, he knew what he had to do.

He just had to hope he was making the right decision.

***

In reality, the ride from Hank's place to O'Hare probably took less than an hour, but it felt like an eternity to Erin. She had booked her red eye within the first five minutes of the drive—and then she was left with an almost deafening silence. As she sat alone in the back of the cab, she practically begged the cab driver to turn the radio on, unable to stand being alone with her thoughts for another second.

But as hard as she tried to lose herself in the familiar sights out the window and the eighties power ballad blasting from the speakers, she just couldn't escape it. She was drowning in her thoughts.

As awful and disgusting as she felt about coming between Jay and Allie, a small—and, perhaps, particularly horrible—part of her was glad it had happened. Neither of them had known that the last time they were together was actually the last time. There had never been any real closure to their time together; their relationship had simply ended as abruptly as it had started.

Over the last four years, Erin had occasionally allowed herself to think about Jay and what they had. Sure, it was borderline masochistic to dwell on the past that she had worked so hard to escape, but despite the overwhelming pain she felt, the happy memories were everything. What she wouldn't give for one more day with him. One more of those sly smiles he would flash across the bullpen. One more night swept up in his arms. One more of those magical kisses that made her lose herself in the best possible way.

Somehow Erin started to reason that it all made sense. After so many years, with so much left hanging between them, it was only natural that seeing each other again would have them getting lost in their memories, in their history, in each other.

But it was still a mistake. A horrible mistake.

Although she had let Hank comfort her back at the house, Erin couldn't bring herself to tell him what had happened at the wedding. It absolutely killed her to know that he had been right all along. Not that he would have thrown that in her face; Erin knew Hank would have supported her like he always had—she just didn't deserve his support.

Erin had known better than to come back to Chicago. She left to give Jay a chance at the happiness he deserved, a chance to build the life that she would just hold him back from. And she was right—he had Allie and she was normal and good and exactly what Jay needed.

And then like always, Erin ruined it. Like always, her presence only served to hurt the people she cared the most about.

When the cab pulled up to the departures terminal, Erin forced a smile when she paid the driver. As she walked through the doors and approached her gate, she knew once and for all what she needed to do.

This was it. This time, she was going to heed Hank's advice.

This time she truly wouldn't look back.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12672910/10/Home