#i can Feel the hunger but regrettably that sometimes Does Not Help

[aphel1on]

need someone to do this 2 me why is lunch so HARDD

[redhoodieone]

Don’t Tell Me Part 8

A/N: And…here’s Part 8! I kind of thought it would have taken longer for me to post it, but I guess the inspiration was coming to me like visions, so I finished it in no time! There will be an epilogue as a Part 9 (with smut!) if anyone is interested in it. I did get teary eyed writing this, and I hope you all enjoy it!

Warnings: Language.

Don’t Tell Me Part 8

3 Months Later

Y/N’s Point of View 

I’m having a hard time climbing out of bed. After feeling queasy last night, I just want to lie in bed, watch an old renaissance Disney movie, eat whatever I’m craving, and just rub my baby bump, and talk to the little boy I’m carrying.

I’m definitely in the mood for tacos.

The thought of giving birth to a baby boy who will surely look and most likely act like Jason terrifies me. We haven’t spoken since that morning I left, but I know he watches me every day and every night, because I know his eyes are the ones who follow my every move. I can always sense Jason’s protectiveness. His shadow resembles a guardian angel’s sometimes, especially when I feel more alone than ever. My apartment door opens and closes. “Y/LN! I come bringing food that I believe will satisfy your cravings!” Damian calls out. I grin wildly, and I climb out of bed to greet Damian in the kitchen. He holds up a sophisticated looking lunch carrier, and hands me a sandwich. “It’s healthy, Y/LN. It’s a tuna fish sandwich with pickles inside. Pennyworth and I want to make sure you’re eating well since my nephew needs to be developed greatly if he is to fight alongside me one day. You only have three months left of pregnancy, and do not forget our class tonight at the clinic. But returning to my original point, I will not tolerate a weak nephew, and I-” The second I taste it, my mouth waters with my gag reflex kicking in. It’s disgusting! It smells awful! “Oh my God!” I cry out. Covering my mouth, I run to the kitchen trash can, and I throw away the sandwich as I puke up the food my cravings do not accept. Damian signs regretfully. “I’m truly sorry, Y/N. I-I didn’t think tuna fish and pickles were in your ‘bad food’ list. Perhaps something else will satisfy your hunger. Does anything come to mind? Just tell me now and I’ll go fetch it for you.” I groan miserably and end up on the couch. Damian follows me, and he sits beside me where he rubs my swollen belly. “You know Y/LN, despite this child belonging to Todd, I am quite grateful you were impregnated. I was always treated unfairly as a small child in our family, and now that there is a much younger male coming into our family, I can finally be viewed as an equal amongst Grayson, Todd, and Drake. And even if you’re raising this child as a single parent, I will gladly and willingly assist you if you acquire any help necessary. With my knowledge and skills, I can help raise this child to exceed all great expectations,” Damian reassures me. I smile, even when Jason’s brought up, it just reminds me of how he’s not here and how he’ll probably never be around to see our son. “Have you thought of names, Y/LN? If I may suggest, name the child after me. Damian is a true warrior’s name. After all, if the child is going to be raised with me around, my name can rub off on him and he will surely look up to me. I will be the most fit role model, and I will never let you two down,” Damian continues. I notice I’m getting sleepy again. Between my sick stomach, growing worries of being a single parent, and missing Jason more than anything, my body and mind’s stresses me to the point where I’m lying on the couch. Damian takes notice, and he reaches for the throw blanket nearby and covers me. He kicks off his shoes, sits up, and holds my legs in his lap. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Please do not worry or be sad. You’re not alone, and I will make sure you and the child will be taken care of. I promise Todd that, as well.” I fall asleep to Damian’s soothing words, and with the comfort of his hand caressing my big bump.

Tim’s point of view

 Waking to complete silence is almost foreign to me. I’ve become used to beeping sounds from my computers, tablets, anything electronic, really. The curtains are pulled back, and the sunlight brightens the dark room I’ve called my own Batcave since I was Robin. I rub my eyes, and I force myself to get up to shower. Ever since the family saved me, I’ve become a patient in this home. Bruce has made it his mission to rehabilitate me, Alfred counsels me from time to time, Dick exercises and trains with me, and even Superman has brought me to the Watchtower to work with him on cases and missions; just to keep me busy. I suppose I’m getting better, and the guilt I feel every day is enough for me to want to get better. I haven’t even seen or spoken to Y/N or Jason since that morning I heard she left. They’re probably happy together now, and who can blame them? I wasn’t enough for Y/N, and I’m more than positive Jason hates me more than he’s ever hated me before. It’s almost the afternoon. It’s time to meditate. I sit cross legged on the yoga mat Barbara gave me, and I close my eyes. Breathing in. Breathing out. Relaxing every muscle in his tense body. Releasing all the harsh breaths. Tim finds himself in good silence. He imagines all his demons and guilt will be put to rest, but he even doubts anyone else will forgive him and move on. “Mind some company?” Jason’s voice startles Tim. After his initial shock, Tim motions for Jason to sit beside him. Jason looks worn out. A stubble is growing on his strong jawline, there are bags underneath his eyes, and he looks exhausted and weak. Tim for once in his life, felt that he looked better than Jason for once. The little comment in his head warns him to not get carried away with comparing himself to his brother. The two Batboys sit side by side on the purple yoga mat. Tim knows from Bruce’s advice that the only way he can move on from all of this is to face his problems, make amends, forgive himself, and look forward. Easier said than done. Tim keeps his eyes open, as his gaze stays on the bamboo plant growing in an emerald colored vase. Jason finds where Tim’s staring, and does the same. “You hate me, don’t you?” Jason asks. His voice is low, and there’s guilt in him. “I can’t hate you, when I already hate myself,” Tim whispers, only enough for Jason to hear him. Jason scoffs. “Why do you hate yourself? You were infected by Joker’s secret microchip in the back of your neck. If anything, you’re a fucking victim. As for me, I’m the reason why Y/N cheated on you.” “Look,” Tim’s voice breaks for a second. He’s in the verge of crying, but the last thing he wants is to cry in front of Jason fucking Todd. “I do take full responsibility and I’m already accepting the consequences of my actions for what I did to Y/N, but it doesn’t excuse everything I’ve done. I could have killed her and the baby. And as for our relationship, it was doomed since the beginning it started. W-what happened between Y/N and I, it was both of our mistakes. You’re not exactly a reason, Jason.” “What do you mean?” Jason sobs. He’s clearly not caring anymore if anyone sees him cry. He must be in so much pain, and he’s at the point where he’s releasing his feelings out just so he won’t blow up on anyone. Tim exhales, and focuses on his older brother. Just seeing Jason cry makes Tim realize, the problems are affecting everyone. And the only way to solve them is to address them, forgive themselves, and move forward. “I know I shouldn’t have dated Y/N. I-I guess I was just desperate enough to date a gorgeous, smart, kind, and funny girl just so everyone would see me as...cool. It’s really lame, I know. But being the shortest and younger brother compared to you and Dick, it really takes a toll on you from time to time. I mean, Dick had beautiful women like Barbara and Kori, and you had Isabelle and Artemis. The only girl I dated was Stephanie, and she just used me to be Batgirl at that time. And for once, just seeing Y/N take an interest in me...that made me feel really cool like you and Dick. So, that’s my problem. I got into a relationship just to be cool, and I didn’t even take her feelings seriously,” Tim confesses. He begins to cry, unable to contain himself just to get through this. Jason rubs Tim’s back with support and comfort. “And the thing is...I don’t think I was even ready for a relationship. I’m not ready to be dating, engaged, or even having sexual relations with someone, when I’m not even comfortable with myself. And just admitting this and hearing it now just makes me seem more pathetic than anything. Huh?” Jason shakes his head. “No Tim, you’re not pathetic. The fact that you can tell the truth makes you stronger than you think. You’re brave enough to admit it, and here I am...a fucking coward who can’t even talk to the woman he’s in love with,” Jason says softly. “I’m fucking pathetic.” “I know you love Y/N, and I know she loves you. But I don’t know why you’re still here when you should be with her when she needs you the most.” “I need to be here for you because you’re my brother, Tim. I can’t just leave you and be with her after everything that has happened,” Jason says regrettably. “She doesn’t even want me around.” “After everything that has happened, Jason, I just...I just want things to go back to normal. I just want us to be brothers and friends again. I want to go back to creating more gadgets, and sort through the files in the cave that are probably not alphabetized or even organized. And even if Y/N and I don’t love each other the way we thought we did, I just want us to love each other as friends, because at the end of the day, she was a good friend to me and I rather have her in my life than not in it at all,” Tim admits. “Just don’t tell me about your sex life with her, and I’ll be good. I swear.” “You really mean all that?” Jason asks softly. He chuckles at the last part Tim says. Tim’s baby blue eyes tear up. He nods his head and hugs his brother. The two embrace each other and forgive each other the way they need to just so they can move forward. Together. “I’m sorry, Tim. I’m so sorry for everything,” Jason apologizes sincerely. “I’m sorry too, Jay. I just...I just want things to get better. I want to feel better,” Tim chokes out. “You will, Tim. You will. We all will.” Tim pulls away and wipes his tears away. “And Jason?” “Yeah Tim?” Jason responds; rubbing his own eyes. “Please tell me Damian isn’t going to influence your son. We don’t need a second Damian.” Jason laughs, for the first time in three long months. “I sure hope not. If he does, then I hope we’ll be ready for war at the Manor.”

Y/N’s Point of View

 I must have been asleep for a long time; a long nap to be exact. I wake to a hungry stomach, and with Damian’s head beside mine. He’s lying in front of me, with my back against the couch. We must have been really exhausted to sleep for four-five hours. This pregnancy has been very difficult, very frightening, but a learning and tiring experience. I’m so hungry right now. I glance down and smile how Damian is fast asleep. His face is close to mine, as we are sharing the same pillow. As I’m bundled in a blanket, he’s sleeping without one; since he figures I need it more than him. His mouth is in a pouting form, and his dark hair that was once spiked is now messy and wavy from the nap. Damian’s a good kid. Maybe a little rough around the edges, but he’s grown up to be someone good. I really hope my son will be the same, too. “Damian,” I whisper. I gently shake his arm. Damian awakens in panic. He sits up and looks all around us. “Y/N? What’s the matter? Is something wrong with the child?” he asks worriedly. “No, no of course not. I’m sorry to make you think something’s wrong, but I’m just hungry,” I say. “Okay, then I shall get us some food. Do you have anything in mind?” Damian asks, rubbing the sleepiness from his piercing green eyes. A knock on the door alarms us. Damian is the first to move to the door. He peers through the keyhole, and groans in protest. “Y/N, you should go hide. I wasn’t aware imbeciles would be harassing us at this hour,” Damian says in annoyance. “Damian, you little shit! Open this fucking door right now, or I’m going to rip out your spine from your body and shove it so far up your ass, you’ll be shitting out bones for a year!” Jason yells furiously through the door. “You better believe him, demon spawn. He’s taking off his gloves right now,” Tim’s voice is heard from behind the door, too. “If you believe you can speak to me like that Todd, then I’ll just ask the Joker for a spare crowbar and I can reenact your little, pathetic torture session and make sure Father’s late to save you again!” Damian retorts enraged. “Why you fucking little-” I quickly get up and push Damian aside, before Jason can finish his next deadly threat. The second I open the front door, there stands Jason and Tim. The way all our eyes meet is the second I stop breathing. After only three months of not seeing either of them, it’s like seeing them again for the first time. Like the first time at Bat Burger. I look to Jason and see how he’s standing tall, but his head is lowered as if he knows he shouldn’t be here. He’s dressed in dark pants with his red hoodie. His hair is messy, and his alluring blue eyes show all the trouble and guilt he’s been dealing with since I left. Tim looks well since everything that has happened. He’s dressed in his dress pants and a blue polo shirt. He looks refreshed and healthy, and a small positive smile is on his face. It makes me feel a little better just seeing him smile. “Hi Y/N,” Tim greets me softly first. “Can we talk? All three of us?” “Why?” I ask nervously. What could they possibly have to say to me, except ‘we hate you and want you dead’ or something? “Please...” Jason’s voice cracks. He must be afraid I’ll say no and turn him away. It kills me to see him so distraught. “It will help us,” Tim vows politely. “I promise.” Damian scoffs. He stands in front of me with his arms crossed. “Only five minutes you fools, because Y/N is pregnant, and she doesn’t require any more stress or pressure. We must keep the child happy, healthy, and loved,” Damian says seriously. “Since when did you become a baby expert?” Tim asks him. “Since the day I vowed to assist and care for Y/N and her son since the child will need a strong role model to protect her. And I believe I meet all of the requirements, and I am best suited for the job,” Damian explains. Jason rolls his eyes. He then steps forward and comes closer to me. After three months of not seeing each other (except for him following me around), he sees how much I’ve changed. The baby bump is bigger, and I have three months left to go before our son is born. “You look beautiful,” Jason whispers to me. “Thank you,” I reply, not even sure what to say at the moment. Tim strolls over to me. He slowly reaches out for my hand, and he holds it gently. I squeeze his hand to let him know I trust him. “Let’s talk first, because after we’re done, I think Jason has a lot to say,” Tim says, as he leads us to my balcony to talk. The second the sliding door closes, we’re facing each other. The silence is comfortable for a while, until I realize we have to speak for us to fix our problems. “Sometimes I wish we didn’t have to say anything. Like, the silence is enough for us to know what we’re thinking. Wouldn’t it make life easier?” I ask, breaking the ice slowly but surely. “If life was easy, then life wouldn’t be worth living, now would it?” Tim asks. “That’s right, I forget how you firmly believe problems and bad things make life worth living,” I say with a laugh. I look over at him. “It’s like, life isn’t real unless you suffer sometimes. Just like if you don’t experience pain, then you’re not really alive.” “It’s about the journey, Y/N. We’re human. We’re supposed to feel happiness, sadness, embarrassment, pain, joy, fear, love, and loss. Because if none of those things existed, then what is our true purpose to live? How do we get to our destination? What is the point in living?” Tim asks me seriously. “And if we couldn’t speak, then how can we differentiate voices and that wouldn’t make life fun. I believe speaking is more fun than communicating in minds.” He’s always been passionate about philosophy. That’s always been Tim’s secret. “I get it, Tim. God, you’re so stubborn,” I tease playfully. I reach across to shove him away but he doesn’t even move. “Then don’t question my philosophical opinions.” “Next time I won’t,” I agree. We fall back into a silence until Tim glances at me. “I already know we’re not going to be together. I know we can’t be together. And to be perfectly honest, I think it’s for the best, Y/N. I...entered this relationship with other goals in mind. I was only dating you because for the first time in my life, I felt and truly believed I was like Dick and Jason. I felt so cool being a hero with a beautiful girl like you. I realize now that I can’t be in a relationship because I have to learn to love myself, and be comfortable in my own skin, before I can love anyone else. I wasn’t honest with you, and I’m really sorry about that. Even if we’re not in love with each other, I really love you as a friend, and I hope we can still be friends,” Tim confesses. He takes a deep breath, and he feels the heavy weight being lifted off his shoulders. “I want us to be how we were in the beginning. Close friends who can call each other late at night just to about our crazy dreams. Close friends who pig out on Friday nights and watch stupid movies. Close friends who are there to pick each other up whenever we fall. That’s what I want the most.” I smile, even feeling relieved because Tim’s friendship is what I want the most, too. “I want that too, Tim. I want it more than anything, and I’m still sorry I cheated on you. I should have never done that,” I apologize. Tears fall from my eyes because I hope he can forgive me. Tim’s eyes tear up as well. “And I’m sorry about everything else. Kidnapping you, putting a microchip in your neck, and for trying to kill you...and your baby...” Tim cries a lot harder now. “You weren’t yourself. It’s okay, Tim. The baby and I are just fine,” I reassure him softly. “I know, but it kills me to know I almost did. How about we just...move forward? Whatever happened back then, it’s all behind us. If we keep bringing up the past, then the past isn’t really behind us. I know we all did things we’re not proud of and have done things that are not right. I...want to be a better person. I even want to take better care of myself, and as long as you and Jason are next to me, then this family can get through anything,” Tim says, and with a small smile, he hugs me. I hug him back. I can feel Tim’s tears falling down his shirt, where my head is pressed against. We cry. We hug. We decide as friends to move forward. “Moving forward?” Tim whispers in my ear. “Moving forward.” And we take that first step together.

We head back inside after spending an hour out on the balcony. Tim and I spot Jason and Damian sitting in the living room, far away from each other. Damian’s seated in the middle of the couch, with Jason seated in my recliner chair.

“That was an hour, Drake. I precisely said five minutes,” Damian snaps. Jason stands up the moment I walk into the living room. “We’re okay, Jason,” Tim informs him. Jason nods his head and rubs the back of his neck anxiously. “Maybe we should...” he begins and then stops. “I don’t want to talk right now. Can’t we just...take things slow and go from there when we’re comfortable and things aren’t confusing?” I ask, silently hoping he agrees with me. I can’t be worried right now. I can’t stress over the situation of us. I have to think about our baby. “Yes, we can do that,” Jason agrees, and nods his head. Even with our new agreement, it doesn’t take too long for Jason to realize we’re okay. He rushes to me and hugs me; not too tightly to hurt the baby, though. The way our bodies are pressed against each other, I finally feel safe and at home. Jason barely pulls away from me and I take a daring chance to stand on my tippy toes to kiss him. The way our lips brush up against each other reignites the fire between us once more. The fireworks shoot throughout my body to my sensitive but pleasurable core. He can feel it too. The second our mouths open, Jason slips his tongue into my mouth and we once again, savor each other’s kisses and taste. “Okay, you are both expecting a child already. Do you really want to put another child inside Y/N at this moment?” Damian asks with serious concern. But then he smirks. “Perhaps a niece this time. Get going on it, Todd. You should still have some good swimmers.” Tim chuckles. “Come on, Damian. Let’s give them a little privacy.” “I already know how babies are created, Drake. I do not need another lecture.” “Okay, how about we go back to the Manor and Google porn?” Tim suggests. “We can watch videos and critique them. I used to do that with Dick and Jason way back then.” Damian exhales, and glances back at Y/N and Jason making out. “Well, why not? It’s better than getting the live show here. And besides, Drake. Grayson has Gordon, Todd has Y/LN, and we only have each other,” Damian points out. Tim and Damian...friends? “Somebody please help me.”

[fortunefavorstheway]

Fortuna Chapters 1 & 2

AO3 link

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12k+

Din/OC

Din wakes up with a cold, he’s out of medicine, and the closest shops are sold out. He seeks out a blind healer living in the mountains and ends up getting more than he bargained for. Meanwhile, the Child makes absolutely sure the helmet stays on while Dad’s sleeping.

Long buildup of caretaking and fluff, ends with masturbation

When the Mandalorian woke up with a sore throat, his first instinct was to ignore it like always.

His developing paternal instincts swiftly squashed that first instinct. The sore throat did not go away after a meal and a couple of hours, so it wasn't fatigue. As he coughed from the growing itch in his throat and felt his face warm up, he knew that the first priority was to make sure the Child didn't catch anything, followed by getting well as soon as possible.

Din peered into the crate that currently served as the kid's cradle. Nestled among the blankets, he was still fast asleep, one hand outside the covers rising and falling on his chest as he breathed slowly and evenly. Smiling, he resisted the urge to get any closer in his present condition, and returned to the lower level. Opening his med-pack, he groaned when he saw the only medication available was a single dose of painkillers rattling around. He considered swallowing some bacta gel instead, but if there were unintended side effects there'd be no one left to take care of the kid. He wondered if he should save the painkillers for the kid, but dismissed it; it was too high of a dose of too strong a medicine for his ad'ika. He sighed and regretted it as it nearly became a cough. His carelessness had left his clan vulnerable to a simple cold, and he should've restocked sooner, but credits and discretion had both been scarce since they'd begun their journey to seek out the Jedi.

He tightened his fists with resolve, but weariness weighed down his limbs. He took the painkiller with water and then set about disinfecting everything on the ship, starting with his own clothes and armor. His limbs felt less tired as the painkiller did its work, but his skin was still warm with sweat. It only got worse as he slipped back into his clothes and armor, but if it meant the Child was safe from his sickness, he'd gladly endure the discomfort.

Weapons were last. He had finished disinfecting them and was about to begin regular maintenance when he heard the Child fussing. "Ad'ika," he croaked, hoarser than he anticipated. He grabbed some food and water and returned to the crate, where the Child was sitting up and holding his arms out, cooing with urgency. Din was more than happy to oblige.

"Ahh," the Child whined, pushing at the helmet. Ever since Din had made the adoption vow and revealed his face to the Child, the Child had grown used to him having his helmet off when they were alone.

"Not now ad'ika," Din said, sniffing as his nose stuffed up. "I'm sick and I don't want you to catch it."

The Child stopped pushing at the helmet, but didn't remove his hands entirely. His ears drooped in concern and he tilted his head before leaning against Din's chest. Something about Din's breathing must've been off, because the way the Child's brow furrowed was almost funny for how out of place it was on the face of a baby. The Child straightened and his ears perked as he held up his hands and reached towards his father.

"No!" Din said, startling the Child. "It's too much to ask for something as small as this." The Child's ears drooped once again and he pouted, eyes shining as he whimpered protests. Din sighed, and this time he couldn't stop it from turning into a cough. Once his body settled, he gently took the Child's hands in his own and then held him close as the Child had his breakfast. Once that was done, he continued to hold the Child close to him as he went up to the cockpit to navigate.

His throat wasn't as sore as earlier, so he felt comfortable talking to the Child as usual. "We're gonna need to re-stock on some medical supplies and refuel the ship. We're far from Imperial presence out here so we can go somewhere industrial, but even then, we'd better stick to somewhere that has a lower population density," he said, bringing up the map. The Child relaxed at this familiar routine, bouncing side to side in his embrace, and giving a small cheer as Din unscrewed the ball and handed it to him. He kept giving commentary as he went through each planet. "Too backwater, we won't be able to restock here... terrain is too dangerous and there's a strong criminal presence, so our ship would get scrapped immediately... this one would be perfect if we had enough fuel to get there..." On and on it went, and Din felt a steady fuzz taking over his brain. The next planet he checked, however, gave him pause. "Lisera." He selected it and read through the specs. "Mostly mountains, but they've got a small trade center in this valley that's away from any active volcanoes or earthquake zones," he leaned back into his chair and set the coordinates. "I'd say it's our best bet, what do you think ad'ika?"

"Eh!" the Child agreed.

-----

"I'm sorry, but we're out of medicine."

It was a mixed blessing that the cold and painkiller dulled his senses, or else Din might've done something truly regrettable right then and there. Instead, he said, "When will you restock?"

"I don't know. None of the other vendors have any stock either," the vendor forced a sympathetic smile. "You arrived at a bad time I'm afraid. A trade dispute higher up in this territory meant certain goods are a lot scarcer, and most of the residents here stocked up in case. Had you arrived one week earlier-"

"It's fine," Din said. It was something out of both of their controls, but that didn't make it any less frustrating. He'd hoped to get everything done in one stop, and the idea of having to spend more credits for fuel just to find medicine was making his stomach churn. At that, a coughing fit surged through him, and he struggled to keep his hold on the Child. The Child, in turn, drummed on his chest in a state of alarm, anxious to do something, anything that would help his father feel better.

The vendor winced at the Mandalorian's current state, then said, "If I may make a suggestion, Mandalorian," she turned her head towards the mountains. "There's a healer, Silla, who lives up in the mountains. She sometimes comes down here to sell some medicine and herbs, but in your circumstances it'd be faster to seek her out."

Din cleared his throat. "How much will it cost?"

The vendor frowned. "I've never been a patient of hers, but I've heard she's generous and willing to barter services. I will caution you however," she dropped her voice low, "I've also heard rumors that she has mystical powers. For a blind woman, even for a regular person, her diagnoses are inhumanly accurate, and they say similar things about how powerful the stuff she brews is."

Din considered this, his free hand cradling his child's head closer to his chest. If this woman was a sorceress, maybe he had a lead on finding the Child's kind. "Has anything bad ever happened to any of her patients?"

The vendor shook her head. "I've witnessed the occasional arguments when she comes down to trade, but otherwise no. It might just be that she's a stranger on this planet, and people talk." Sensing the Mandalorian's next question, the vendor said, "She arrived a few standard months ago on a cargo ship and almost immediately went for the mountains."

A freelancer who likely wanted to stay hidden. Din would have to be on his guard. "Thank you. Where in the mountains does she live?"

"Follow the path and you'll eventually find her. You'll know you're getting close from the smell," the vendor said. "A piece of advice: Under no circumstances are you to stray from the marked path, unless you want to be eaten, lost, or crushed." The vendor glanced up at the sky, where the sun was high enough to cast short shadows on the ground. "If you start now, you should be able to find her before nightfall."

Din nodded his thanks, and turned to start his way up the mountain.

-----

It was only until the town was out of sight that Din felt the painkiller begin to wear off. He wasn't aware of any pain or discomfort while he was moving, but the moment he stopped to catch his breath, fatigue seized his body and the sweat soaking his clothes felt heavier than his armor. He wished he could set his child down to give his arm a rest, but if they were this far and he still hadn't found the healer, then he couldn't afford to walk any slower. He switched which arm was holding whenever he began to feel tired, but the frequency of his switches was increasing. The Child, normally so curious about every new sight, was unusually subdued, as if sensing his father's distress. Every once in a while Din caught his child raising his hands, only to gently grasp and lightly squeeze them in his own in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

His throat felt parched and hot, but when he took a sip from his canteen he coughed at how scratchy it felt. How bad was it that it would hurt to drink plain water? The Child reached for the canteen, and Din almost gave it to him on reflex before he stopped. He needed to disinfect it first, and he fumbled around his pockets for where he would keep the alcohol wipes, only to come up empty. He wanted to grind his teeth at how stupidly unprepared he was, but that would only worsen his headache. The Child whimpered and a faint rumble came from his belly, so Din put his canteen back and grabbed the bottle of ration bar mush he prepared when they both had to be away from the ship. The Child wrinkled his nose at the familiar smell, but Din didn't have the energy to argue, simply pushing the tip of the bottle at his child's mouth until the infant's hunger won out and he began drinking from the bottle.

The sun was still up, but much closer to the horizon than when Din had first started. He stared at the railings on the mountain path above him, tempted to scale them to save time, but aside from the vendor's stern warning and the wire nets that held back rocks, there was no way he could do it with in his sweating, aching condition. His limbs were burning as he kept climbing and climbing but he still couldn't see any signs of the healer. The vendor had said he'd smell it when he was near, but as the snot dripping from his nose was making that difficult. Every drop that slid down his upper lip seemed to replace his fatigue with sheer rage and frustration, but all he could do was keep climbing, even as the inside of his helmet smelled more and more like raw bantha meat. The child soon fell asleep, and was wrapped in a makeshift carrier from Din's cape.

Din wanted to feel relieved as the sun began to set and the air cooled, but once it was too dark, Din would need to make camp for the night and delay medical treatment, and being exposed to the elements, even in his armor, wouldn't help any. The Child stirred and shivered but didn't wake, and Din found the resolve to walk still a few more steps. How could he protect his son if he was sick like this?

The sun was touching the horizon when Din smelled it, even through the congestion. It was a spicy smell that reminded him of the food the tribe served, and his nose itched at its presence. He picked up the pace and Din could've cried when he saw a light in the distance. Energy rushing to his limbs with the knowledge that his destination was in sight, he found himself in a flat clearing where the healer had set up camp. Past a single light where the path first entered the clearing, there was a large tent. Next to it there was a low line with clothes and a high line with plants, fish, and meat hung to dry. The fireplace wasn't going right now, but a black kettle hung over it.

His body was begging for sleep now that Din had paused, but not yet. He went up to the tent and knocked on the front panel, but nobody answered. "Hello?" he called out in a cracked voice, hoping he was loud enough to be heard but not too loud to wake his child. Still no response. He stepped into the tent and his heart dropped upon seeing it empty. There were shelves of glass bottles and various instruments strewn about, but Din didn't have the energy to focus on those right now. Instead, his eyes turned to the bedding on the floor, and he felt himself floating towards it as he his strength dwindled to nothing. Even if the healer was out, having a comfortable place to sleep after such a long journey would do for the night.

This, of course, was the moment the Child chose to wake up, and Din sighed long and low when those adorable green ears perked up. The Child did not fuss or cry, but turned his head outwards and began reaching for something out there. At this, Din stilled, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. We're being watched. Much as it ached to do so, he switched on the thermal tracking. There were no footprints in the tent except the ones he'd made, so he stepped outside. Scanning the ground, he still found nothing. As he remembered how Cara had jumped from above, he barely picked up the sound of wood creaking above the clearing. He whipped his head up towards and got his hand on his blaster, confirming a humanoid heat signature up in the trees. The tightening in his chest triggered another coughing fit, and with the sudden dizziness from his head movement Din struggled to keep his balance. The Child cried as he fell, though he managed to roll so his child did not get crushed underneath.

The figure climbed down from the trees, and after he switched off thermal vision he struggled to keep his eyes open as they approached. They were dressed in white robes and knelt before him. "Can you stand?" a soft, low voice asked. Another coughing fit and he strained to get his legs to straighten, but soon he was leaning on the healer as she led him back into the tent. He set his rifle to the side while she laid him on the bed and gently shushed the Child. "Your guardian needs rest. You can stay with him, but I'll need you to move." The Child barely paid attention to her, clinging to Din's chest with all his might, whimpering in distress.

As the darkness overtook his vision, Din murmured, "Helmet... stays on." Clutching his child's hands to his chest and weakly patting his back, Din's eyelids fell shut and he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

-----

If this one insisted on keeping his helmet on, then he was more likely a true Mandalorian than a mercenary simply wearing the shell of one. Silla wondered if instead it might be an urgent need to keep a criminal identity secret, until she knelt down to pick the child off of his guardian and a pendant brushed against her gloved fingertips. The Child cried out and seized the pendant, putting it in their mouth while their other hand clung to his guardian's chest. "Ah, it's yours then." Holding out her hand, she asked, "May I hold it for a short while? I want to know it's shape." When the child's answering noise was full of caution, she added, "You can hold it, and I'll let it go after a few seconds. I can tell that it's important to you." She smiled warmly, and after a moment's hesitation, the child removed the pendant from their mouth and held it out to Silla. Brushing her fingertips on the metal, her smile broadened when she recognized the shape. "A mythosaur skull. So you are a Mandalorian too?" When the child cooed in the affirmative, she let go of the pendant and brushed a hand along their head, feeling the light hair on top of thick, but soft skin, with their ears being the softest of all. "I must say, you are the most adorable Mandalorian I've ever met." The child giggled as she stroked their ears, but soon became distressed again when she held their waist to lift them away from their father.

"Now now, I need to change his shirt for a dry one so he can sleep comfortably tonight," Silla said. The child's weak whine said that letting go was out of the question. "Why don't you sit where his helmet is? I'll be moving him around a lot, and it might come loose. Can you help me make sure it stays on?" She moved her hand to the bottom of the helmet as if to take it off, at which the child gave a high-pitched shriek and launched themself onto the helmet, growling as menacingly as he could but to Silla's ears sounding like a tookit. "That's a start. Can he breathe like that?" The child went silent, slid down so they were laying on the pillow and clinging to the side of the helmet, the sounds they made softer than the earlier growls, but that nonetheless told the healer that they were watching her. Silla smiled. "Wonderful. You're such a good child."

The cape, boots, gloves, and pauldrons were the easiest and removed first, and Silla smiled when she felt the raised sigil on the right pauldron. A mudhorn skull? The bandolier and cuirass would be a challenge. She had to dig for the straps both on his shoulders and sides, and to remove them completely, she had to lift his shoulders up while keeping his head and neck steady, no small feat even if the child weren't clinging to his helmet as if both their lives depended on it. She unzipped his armorweave jacket and pulled his arms out of it, and finally reached the damp undershirt. Silla wrinkled her nose at the scent of disinfectant mixed with musk, and remembered her sisters complaining about how dirty "boy clean" was. She managed to move his arms and get them out just as she'd done with the armorweave outer layer, but now she had to slip it over his helmet.

"Can you help me?" she asked the child, moving her hand to the side where they were holding on. The child made a chirp, then got up and shuffled to the top of the helmet, where a slight movement and light pressure told Silla that it would be safe to remove the shirt now. It was a struggle to stretch it over and Silla winced when she heard some threads snap, but they managed to get the undershirt off while keeping the helmet in place. Throughout all of this movement the patient didn't even stir, to both Silla's relief and alarm as she recognized the signs of acute fatigue. He must've been determined to make the climb from the town to her tent, and given how tightly his child clung to him, she had to admire his dedication.

"Good job, thank you," she told the child. The child replied with a happy coo and reached up for the undershirt. "Ah, no, this needs to be cleaned," Silla said, tossing the shirt into her laundry basket. "How about the cape your father carried you here with?" Placing the blanket over the Mandalorian and wrapping the child in his cape, the first order of business was checking her patient's vitals. His skin was cool and but the monitor read his temperature as high, so his fever hadn't broken yet, and the sweat was likely from his hike. Otherwise, his signs were within normal limits.

After she wiped down her monitor with disinfectant, Silla grabbed a clean, dry towel and uncovered her patient, gently patting away all the sweat. Now that he'd been stripped of his armor, it allowed her to take him in more clearly. Though people knew of her as the blind healer, that wasn't entirely accurate. She could no longer see the surface details like most others, but she could see the energy, the Force even, that pulsed throughout the universe. She could see the disruptions in people where their bodies held pain and tension, and she could see when their souls were red with malice, no matter how soft their spoken words tried to hide it. Experience had taught her that it was easier to explain her observations using her other refined senses, because if she told others about her special sight, they were more likely to pry into vulnerable areas.

When she had first heard the ship fly overhead, she had finished her chores as quickly as possible and then climbed to her tree stand to observe in case it was a brigand. She was relieved at first to see a weary grey soul wander into her camp, but the bundle he carried made her pause. She had seen children before, and no matter what the state of their souls were in, the colors were intense. Mostly white, but when a child had red in their souls, it was like a firework, as intense as it was impermanent. The intensity of the white in this child's soul, however, was brighter than she had ever seen in any living creature, and it made her cautious. White could mean innocence instead of goodness, and neither of those were the same as harmless, so it wasn't until the Mandalorian had fallen to his knees and she heard the child cry out for his father that she felt it safe to descend.

As she continued moving the towel over her patient, her eyes turned to the beacon of light wrapped up in his father's cape, their hold on the helmet more like a comfort-seeking embrace than a protective cling. Her patient's energy was muted, as expected of someone who was ill, but it was unmistakably white. Even when he had reached for his weapon, no red had tainted his soul, his faded energy instead surging with brightness for a brief moment. There were several disruptions that she noted now, injuries and aches that he'd likely powered through to keep providing for his son, not knowing that he was putting the both of them in long-term jeopardy. As she placed her gloved hand directly onto his skin, the extent of his injuries and neglect became clear, and that was just on his torso. Still, he had a solid foundation, a body that had been trained well and experienced a lot of combat. Perhaps with some persuasion, after he recovered from his illness he could do some maintenance. The Mandalorian groaned and Silla flinched, realizing she'd held her hand to his bare torso far longer than necessary She finished patting him dry and got up, throwing the towel into the basket to join his sweaty shirt, and got a cloth patient robe from her supplies. She slipped his arms through the sleeves, and finally, she covered him back up with the blanket.

"Child," she whispered, "I have another bed for you to sleep in." The child's soul flared with oncoming refusal, so she continued. "You might get sick if you sleep near your father tonight, and your father would be upset if that were to happen."

The child made a noise of reluctant understanding, and Silla wondered how old the child was for them to be so intelligent and yet so quiet. "If you stay healthy, it would make him happy, and he'll get better faster." She knelt down and patted an area a few feet from where the Mandalorian was sleeping. "It would be dangerous to sleep on top of him, but I can put a bed for you here so you can sleep close to him. What do you think?"

The child tilted their head in consideration of this offer, then let go of the helmet, giving it a solemn pat before waddling over to where Silla was kneeling. They opened their mouth to say something, only for their stomach to rumble. Whatever the child wanted to say turned into pained whimpers.

Silla smiled. "Of course I can make you dinner. Food is medicine too, you know."

-----

The sound of wind and the soft light through his helmet made Din momentarily panic when he woke up, but the smell of spice and cooking food brought back his memory of the day before. The fact that he could even smell at all through his helmet was a relief, though now he was stuck with one nostril that could breathe fine while the other one was completely blocked. He sat up and found his body feeling lighter, his skin no longer a steaming hot prison, and he briefly froze when he saw that his shirt had been changed for a robe that was open at the back. His helmet was still on, and the rest of his clothes and armor were placed neatly at the foot of his bed. And the kid? A basket sat near the pillow, and Din looked inside and found his child sleeping on top of a folded blanket, wrapped in his cape. He reached a hand out to stroke his head but stopped when he saw his bare hands. Not yet.

Now that he had the energy to keep his balance and his eyes open, he got a good look around the tent. Opposite of him and the kid was a hammock with a fur throw inside. Around the perimeter were bags filled with various plants likely harvested from the mountain. In the center of the tent was a firepit that had been dug into the ground, filled with sand, and lined with stone. A large steel pot was boiling above a steady fire, and smaller pots of clay and steel cooked on top of a grill over a separate fire in the corner of the pit. Around the pit was a dense woven wire barrier, and Din blinked. Had that been there yesterday?

At the wall farthest from the door was a hovercraft. Drawers and shelves folded out of it and on the shelves were various glass jars containing what looked like dried herbs, cooking spices, and other medicinal materials. A table was laid out on top of it all, cooking and medical utensils strewn about on faded white cloth. His lip quirked when he noticed a snake submerged in a dark liquid in one of the larger glass bottles. Would it catch the kid’s eye and stomach?

The crunch of footsteps on earth accompanied by the tock tock of a walking stick approached the tent and Silla stepped through the entrance carrying a few bags. She paused, her head first turning towards the Mandalorian, and then towards the basket. “Good morning,” she whispered.

The Mandalorian nodded, then he remembered. “Good morning,” he whispered back.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he said. “Lighter. I can breathe easier but-” As if on cue, his body was shaken with coughs, his ribs straining as he struggled to keep them quiet. His mouth and nose filled with phlegm, and he sucked swallowed it back in with a grimace.

Silla nodded. “I’m going to prepare breakfast and some other medicines. We can discuss further treatment and payment while you...” She paused, her mouth hanging open as she remembered. “You can eat while I take care of a few things around the campsite, and when you’re done, call for me and we’ll talk.”

“Okay.” With a nod, Silla set her bags down below her hammock and switched her leather gloves for rubber ones. She took some clean towels out of a basket and lifted the smaller pots from the fire pit, then returned to scoop some hot water from the large pot into a small saucepan. She brought everything over to her hovercraft workstation, and soon the tent was filled with the ambient sounds of cooking: pouring liquid, sliding drawers, the clink of metal against glass, and chopping.

While Silla focused on her work, Din’s eyes focused on her, gathering as much detail as he could now that his vision was no longer clouded by fever or fatigue. Loose-fitting pants were tucked into dark leather boots, and over that she wore a long tunic that was tied at waist and had a hood. Her hair was completely wrapped in a scarf that sat tight and high on her head, and a blindfold that covered her eyes and eyebrows tucked into the scarf. Except for the black blindfold, all of the cloth covering her body was light gray. It matched her pale skin, and it was here that Din drifted from observation to guesswork. She looked young, but the quiet confidence in her stance, the way she spoke, and the way she moved reminded him of someone closer to Omera’s age. Right now, he was most impressed with how quickly she chopped the vegetables and flung them into a pot with a flick of her knife. Soon, she was scooping the food into small bowls and laying out two trays, one for him and one for the Child. She brought both of them over to the bed, setting it down near the basket where the Child still slept, while she knelt on the floor.

“I advise you to finish as much as you can. You were suffering from acute fatigue when you collapsed here last night, and everything here is meant to restore your strength and clear your airways as much as possible,” she gestured to the tray. There was meat and vegetable stew that was red with spice, rice porridge, a mug of tea, and a spoonful of dark syrup. “The two things that are non-negotiable are the syrup and the tea. The syrup will taste awful, but it’ll expel the mucus in your lungs and help soothe your throat. That will make it easier to drink the tea, which has a medicine dissolved in it that should help you breathe through both nostrils again.” She brought out a box of tissues and a large metal thermos. “Here’s more water if you need it. What questions or concerns do you have?”

Din eyed the syrup dubiously, vague memories of his illnesses as a foundling and even vaguer memories of his illnesses as a youngling and of the bitter, sickly sweet medicines he had no choice but to take. Surely he could maintain a poker face now, but just to be sure, he asked, “You said they're going to clear my nose and throat?” Silla nodded in response. “How much coughing and sneezing will they trigger?”

The corner of Silla’s mouth quirked upward. “Even outside, I’m going to know if you don’t take the medicine as directed,” she said. She straightened, realizing his concern. “Your child has been sleeping soundly since I put him to bed last night. The tissues can help muffle your cough. That said, do you want me to move him to the other side of the tent so he can continue sleeping?”

Din sighed as he considered it. The viciously protective part of him did not want to be separated from his child more than necessary. The pragmatic part of him said that if the Child woke up while his helmet was off, there was no way he could hold and comfort the kid without potentially infecting him. “Other side of the tent, not under the hammock,” he said. “Just in case.”

If Silla was insulted by the implication, she didn’t show it, instead smiling as she turned to gently pick up the basket and slowly stood from her kneeling position. With steady, fluid steps she brought the basket where Din had requested. Reaching into her tunic, she brought out a metal ball the size of a fist, and Din stiffened as she set it near the child. Then he heard the turn of a mechanical key, and as a soft metallic tune played throughout the tent, his shoulders relaxed. Silla’s went back to her workstation, rummaged through the drawers, and brought a few towels and a spray bottle back to Din. “I imagine you’ll want to clean your helmet after all that it’s absorbed for the past half day or so. This disinfectant can also be used on your hands before you eat,” she set them down. “You can leave your trash on the tray. What else will you need?”

“You’ve done more than enough,” Din said. “Thank you.”

Silla’s smile this time flashed a small bit of teeth, and he found himself weakly returning one of his own. “I’ll be right outside. Call me if you need anything,” she said. Once she ducked out of the tent, he checked to make sure the cover on his window was secure, and he waited until he heard the sound of carving wood to finally, finally take the helmet off.

Just being able to breathe in fresh air that wasn’t saturated with his own snot was clearing his head already, and first he sprayed as much disinfectant as he felt comfortable with inside his helmet on the more-than-off chance the unexpected happened. Setting it aside, he blew his nose and lightly coughed into a tissue to clear himself as much as possible for what was to come next. After spraying his hands, he picked up the large spoon with the syrup, grimacing at the sickly bittersweet smell of it as he brought it up to his mouth. Before he could psyche himself out any further, he stuck the whole thing in his mouth and swallowed. A burst of bitter cold hit Din’s chest and tongue as his face squashed painfully, and he managed to grab a tissue as a series of violent coughs burst out of his lungs. Over the rattling noise of his own body, he could’ve sworn he heard Silla murmur, “Ah, there it is” with an amused smile in her voice. Then, as the syrup aftertaste lingered on his tongue, he swallowed and found that the scratchiness was all gone. When he took an experimental breath in through his mouth, he found it didn’t trigger a cough either, not even an itch in his throat. Glancing over at the basket, he listened for any signs of the kid stirring, but after a minute of silence, Din sighed and got to work on the rest of his meal.

After the punch of the syrup, the tea was nothing. What bitterness the medicine had was blended with a spicy sweetness and a citrus flavor that reminded him of shig. Pouring himself more hot water, he dipped the syrup spoon into the mug to make sure he got all of it, then when he finished that cup he poured another one to wash out the aftertastel. The warmth traveled to his head and chest, and once the tingling hit his nose, he was a lot better prepared for the sneezes that followed. Afterwards, he was able to fully breathe through both nostrils, and with his renewed energy he found himself more ravenous than he expected. He tried to savor the porridge and the stew as the first non-ration meal he’d eaten in ages, but they quickly vanished from their bowls and he poured himself another cup of water to wash it all down.

The sigh Din released this time was one of satisfaction. He soaked one of the towels he’d been given in hot water, using it to scrub his teeth and his face. He was overdue for a shave, but that could wait until he got back to the ship. At the quiet he realized that the music box had stopped playing a while back, and he listened again for any signs that the kid was awake. Still silent.

Well, it was time for breakfast anyway, but before he could wake the kid, he needed to get dressed. Din gently nudged an arm out the tent window, making sure the flap stayed mostly shut. “Silla, could I have my shirt back?” he called out.

“Of course. One moment.” She went away from the tent and he heard the sound of rope twisting and the flutter of fabric, and then Silla came to the window and placed the shirt in his hand.

“Thank you.” It smelled fresh and he sighed at how cool it was when he slipped back on, but he didn’t linger on the feeling long as he closed his jacket and got his armor and boots on. After he got his gloves on, he gave his helmet one last wipedown with a damp, still hot towel. A deep breath, filling his clear airways with one last gulp of the mountain air, and Din slipped it back over his head.

He picked up the tray with the kid’s food and went over to the basket. The Child was stirring a bit, bunching up the cape in his hands and chewing on a corner, his eyes still closed as he made some soft smacking noises. Din smiled, reaching in running a finger gently over the kid’s forehead and cheeks, and at that, the Child woke up. “Ah,” he cooed, reaching up to be held, still clutching the cape in his hands. Din happily complied, and the Child patted his helmet and chest, as if sensing his renewed spirits.

“Yeah, I’m better now,” Din said. “Still gonna keep this on even when we’re alone just to be safe, okay?” The kid pouted a bit, but the sight and smell of breakfast brought back his good mood immediately. Din got a bit of porridge into the spoon, but the kid ignored it and grabbed the bowl, gulping it down. He made quick work of the stew too, and all Din had left to do was wipe at the kid’s chin to make sure his clothes didn’t get too dirty. “Slow down, or you’ll choke,” he said

To which his ad’ika only gave an indignant “Hrmph!” and tilted the bowl almost upside down to get the last few drops of stew. Another wet towel to wipe down the Child’s face and scrub his teeth, and Din called out to Silla that he was ready for her. He could’ve done so earlier, but he wanted to relish some quiet time with his child a bit more, and he dreaded what the cost of medical treatment including a night’s stay and breakfast would be.

“I heard your purse when I put you to bed last night, and I imagine you’re in financial straits at the moment,” Silla said, not unkindly. “In such cases, the payment I ask is that you help me make my rounds around the mountain this morning. If you wish to stay for lunch, you will accompany me into town while l take care of business there. If you wish to stay another night, I will lead you back up the mountain--I can do it even after sunset--and you will help me with anything that remains.”

Bartering services. Just as the vendor had said. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Silla smiled, then continued, “I mentioned further treatment before breakfast. While your cold should definitely be gone by the end of the day, your body is under a great deal of stress. Without proper rest, you’ll continue to be vulnerable to illness and your recovery times will be longer than if you were healthy. When do you need to leave Lisera?”

Din wanted to say “after the morning rounds”, but he thought about it. He was unlikely to find room, board, and medical care for this kind of a bargain anywhere else that he could reach with his remaining fuel and credits he had left. There wasn’t any significant criminal activity that he’d observed, let alone Imperial presence, and since he kept the kid close to him, he’d be prepared for any rogue bounty hunters. For long term gain, he could afford to stay for a few days. He looked at Silla’s face, an enigmatic smile gracing her lips, and for a moment he felt a chill, as if she could see right through his helmet and into his mind. Was this why the others thought her a witch? He wanted to observe a while longer before he brought up the subject. No need for her to think his kid was anything but his kid.

As if sensing his thoughts, the kid wriggled out of his grasp, waddling towards the music box and giving it a light teething before holding it out to Silla. Her smile warmed as she wound it up again, and the Child squealed with delight before resuming his gnawing.

“Your child was such a good assistant, holding onto your helmet to make sure it didn’t come off last night,” Silla said. “You should feel proud.” The child stopped gnawing for a bit and glanced up at Din, ears perked.

“Yeah, I do,” he said, patting the kid’s head and earning a happy coo. “I’ll see how I feel after this morning.”

Silla nodded and then stood. “First order of business then,” she said. “Get some hot water from that big pot and clean these dishes.”

-----

The morning in the mountains felt as much like meditation as it did work. Din was reminded of those precious few weeks he’d spent on Sorgan as they hiked through the mountains, Silla bringing a wheeled cooler that had a tray on top for her to set some cloth bags. She wore her hood up to block the sun and had a multi-purpose shovel strapped to her back.

Silla had given him a bag padded with a small blanket so that he could carry the kid over his chest, but every time they stopped to forage for food the Child insisted on jumping out to help and explore. On one occasion Silla had stopped him from picking up a poisonous mushroom, and Din couldn’t help but ask, “How could you tell?”

Silla smiled. “I know where they grow,” she said, “and how they smell.” She then plucked a few blades of grass and folded them together to make throwing stars, and presented them to the child, tossing one in the air to demonstrate. The Child’s happy peals echoed throughout the mountain and it was all but impossible to get him back in the bag after that. He threw the stars on the path ahead and then dashed to retrieve them. Keeping up with the Child as he continued this cycle still let them make their way through the mountain at a steady pace.

After what happened with the mushrooms, however, Din picked up on something, and he walked closer to Silla to silently confirm it. Whenever she came to the next plant to harvest, he could see her turn her head first, then she would sniff to confirm her findings before she touched the plant. As they approached a riverbank, he could see some apples growing on the trees far overhead, and when he looked at her, he could see her craning her head as if to look at them too.

Once they were underneath one of the trees, Silla said, “I usually climb up there to harvest those, but I’ve already gotten the lower hanging ones and it’s becoming increasingly difficult.” She turned towards him. “Do you have anything with you that could get them down?”

Din shot his whipcord at one of the apples, only for it to go straight through, and the broken pieces fell to the ground with a soft splat. Silla smiled with a sigh. “Maybe that can make it easier for you to climb up there, but it’s not necessary.”

The Child had paused ahead on the trail, seeing that Dad and Soft One had stopped. Gathering his stars he shuffled back to where they were standing, and he looked up to see what they were looking at. Ah! He knew the round sweets that hung above them, and it sounded like Father and Soft One were confused about how to get them. He held his hands up, seeing where the sweets clung to the tree. To me! To me!

The branches above rustled and Silla’s mouth dropped as an apple fell, and she held out her hands to catch it. “That was… very lucky,” she said in a mystified voice. Turning towards the Child, she scooped him up in her arms. “Did you do this?” she asked, holding the apple to his mouth. The Child dropped the stars to grab the apple, then cried out for his fallen stars. Silla laughed and picked them up, tucking them into a fold in his hood. “Can you do that again?”

“I don’t think-” Din said, the Child held up a hand and this time an apple fell for his father to catch. It was one of the easiest things he’d ever done, since all he had to do was give a little twist and the fruit would fall on its own.

Din watched Silla closely for her reaction. Her smile looked genuine, but when she spoke next, her trembling voice betrayed her. “You really are such a precious one aren’t you?”

They were deep in the woods and likely had privacy, but Din did a quick scan of the area just in case. Once he confirmed they were alone, he said, “Silla, how much can you see with your eyes?”

She went still, then turned towards Din. “What do you mean?”

Din shared his observations with her, how her body language seemed to use sight first before her other senses, and how quickly she’d drawn the conclusion that it was the kid who’d made the apple fall. “I’ve never met a blind person who moves as you do,” he concluded.

“Hm. Makes me wonder how many blind people you’ve met,” Silla said, lightly bouncing the Child in her arms as the air grew tense. “I will say, you’ve made your observations a lot more politely than most.” She brought up her hand to run them across the black blindfold. “I don’t see in as much detail as most others,” she explained. “I mostly can see the shapes of things. As for how I concluded that your Child got that apple,” she took a deep breath and faced him, and he could see her internally calculating if it was worth the risk to tell him. Another deep breath breath, and she continued, “I can see the energy present in all living things, and sometimes in the non-living, though that’s more restricted. There are some who call this energy the Force.” She went on to list a few of the colors she could see and what they meant, and then she addressed the apple. “For a moment, the Force in the tree seemed to have sparked as a thread in a brilliant white like your Child’s tied itself to one of the apple stems. I couldn’t believe it, so I asked him to do it again, thinking I just imagined it. But that same thread and spark happened again, and this time I could see the way it came from his body.” She sighed, then smiled at the Child. “You, I must say, have the honors of being the most adorable Mandalorian and the most adorable Force-user I’ve ever met.” The Child’s ears wiggled at the praise.

“Can you teach him?” Din said with urgency. “I’ve been searching for a Jedi who can-”

“I’m no Jedi,” Silla interrupted, “and I’m afraid my use of the Force is limited.” She reached up to touch the blindfold again. “I wasn’t born this way, but after an… accident with a more powerful Force user, I wound up with this form of sight in exchange for the normal kind.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I cannot be the one to teach this child.”

Din wasn’t as disappointed by the news as he thought he’d be. It was the strongest lead he’d had in a while. “Even so, I could use someone like you as my crew,” he offered. Silla’s spine straightened in surprise, and she stopped bouncing the child. “I need someone to look after him while I run jobs, and with you could make sure we--especially him--stay healthy.” Her mouth had dropped open again and she remained silent. “The pay is… sporadic, but I can give you a cut of every job, and you’d have food and shelter.”

The silence stretched on and Din found himself wishing he could see her eyes to get more information of how she was feeling, and then he wondered if she could see his embarrassment and desperation. Her mouth snapped shut and she said in an even tone, “You’ve had to leave your son alone in your ship?”

He couldn’t stop himself from ducking his head. “I take him with me when I can, but most of the time it’s too dangerous,” he said. “The Empire is after him for what he can do, and it’s usually a choice between which one means he’s safer with.”

Her jaw tightened and Din braced himself for a more scolding of his parenting, but then Silla nodded. “Yes, yes I would gladly join your crew. I’ve seen-” she stopped, then hugged the Child close to her. “Just one thing. Could we leave tomorrow? I want to forage one last time on a different part of the mountain, so we can stock up.”

“Yes,” Din answered, and her face finally relaxed into a small smile.

-----

With the Child’s help, they gathered enough apples to fill a small bag, and soon after the Child nodded off from the most practice he’d gotten in a while. Just as well, because when they got close to the net that had been set up near the river bank, Din saw a buffet of amphibious and aquatic life that would’ve sent the kid into a feeding frenzy. Silla opened the cooler to reveal it was filled with water in three separate compartments, and the two of them gathered enough crayfish, crab, and fish to fill all compartments to half capacity each. Din reached down to seize a frog that fit in his palm, and when Silla saw, she said, “Oh, they don’t eat those here.”

“No, but he likes eating these raw,” he said, gesturing to the baby sleeping on his chest.

The corner of Silla’s mouth twitched. “I wouldn’t recommend it,” she said. “Unless he has an incredibly strong immune system, raw animals often contain parasites.” Din went frozen with dawning horror, and she continued, “If it’s any consolation, I don’t see any Force signatures of other lifeforms in his body. She glanced in the cooler. There weren’t any compartments remaining, but she grabbed a cloth bag and went to the shore. Finding a small, flat piece of driftwood floating in the water, she placed it inside the bag, then soaked the bag in water. “We can put the frogs in here, then put this bag in the same compartment as the fish. Once we get back to camp, we can cook them.” He admired her cleverness, and though the frogs burrowed deeper into the mud as the sun rose higher, they caught enough for a decent snack. They both dismantled the river net, and began the trip down the mountain.

Despite their greater burdens, the trip down the mountain was easier and their footsteps felt lighter than it had been the way up. Perhaps it was the figurative weight off their shoulders now that she knew about the Child and he knew about the source of her “mystic” eyes. Once they returned to camp, Silla retrieved the bag of frogs, removed the piece of wood, rinsed the bag with hot water from the center pot until the frogs inside stopped moving, then threw the frogs into a smaller pot filled with boiling water. She then separated some of everything else they’d gathered into bags and water-filled jars inside the tent. When Din noticed she left all the crabs and crayfish in the cooler, he asked about it.

“I’m allergic to shellfish,” she explained. “Would you like some later?”

“If it’s not too much trouble.” So she prepared a water jar just for the shellfish.

She loaded the bags with what remained onto the hovercraft shelves, then with a click of a button, everything folded back into the hovercraft as it came to life. By now, the frogs were done, so she scooped them back into their bag and gave it to Din. She showed Din where and how to secure the cooler, and they settled in as the hovercraft went the rest of the way to town. There was a red scanner in front that allowed it to self-drive, and once again, now that Din was still did he realize how much physical exertion he’d been doing. They were content to sit in silence, enjoying the ambient sounds and sights, surface or deeper, of the mountains.

As the town came back into view, the Child woke up, smacking his lips. When Din opened the bag to show the Child the boiled frogs, the Child responded with bulging eyes, high-pitched squeals, and clapping hands before he seized one and shoved it into his mouth. At the sound of him gulping it down whole, Silla laughed, and the Child giggled in return before shoving another one into his mouth. He made quick work of all the frogs, moping as he shook the bag upside down to no avail. He began to whimper and fidget in Din’s arms, and Din murmured apologies that those were all that they could find. Still the Child whimpered, and soon began to softly cry.

Silla spoke up. “He’s not hungry, he’s gassy,” she said. Din picked him up and patted his back, but still the Child continued to cry. “Here, let me try.” Din handed the Child over, and after a bit of bouncing, Silla struck his child’s back with a soft thud.

“HEY!” Din shouted, lunging for his son, only to stop when the Child belched loudly enough to echo. With a sigh, the Child nuzzled into Silla’s shoulder, peering over at his father with some concern.

“You do a firm strike with the heel of your palm right here,” she turned to gesture to a place off center left below his shoulders. “Children are tough, but I can understand your concern.” She handed the Child back to Din, who lightly placed the heel of his palm where she’d shown him. The Child turned and held his hand, patting it in reassurance.

“Sorry I yelled.”

“Don’t worry. It’s a parent’s prerogative to worry about their child.”

-----

Once the townsfolk found out that Silla was leaving Lisera tomorrow, they gave her well wishes and gifts to send her off, to the point where they soon gathered enough food gifts to take care of lunch. The harvest she brought with her sold out quickly, and soon all that was left was the bottle of what Din learned was snake wine. She brought it to a Sullustan technician at the spaceport where the Razor Crest was docked, and while she worked that out Din went to the Razor Crest so he could eat lunch and both he and his son could use the refresher. When they returned, Din caught the end of their conversation.

“-dy for you when you arrive tomorrow.”

“Thank you Jae,” Silla said. “Hope you and Hiung enjoy the wine.” She turned towards Din and smiled. “That’s everything! Shall we head back?”

“Yeah,” Din answered. “We should start preparing as soon as possible.”

“A Mandalorian huh? So you’re the one taking our witch away from us, and after we were all startin’ to get to be friends with her,” Jae said with a laugh. “You take care of her huh?”

“Yeah,” Din nodded. “I will.” As they left on the hovercraft and went back towards the mountain, Din asked, “What was that about?”

“Oh! Since I thought you’d be gone for awhile, in lieu of his usual payment, I asked Jae to run some diagnostics on this-” she patted the hovercraft, “right here, and he threw in an offer to craft some simple medical tools to make my new job easier.” She opened one of the food gift containers and found herself with a box of spicy noodles. “Ah, Mala knows these are my favorite.” The sound of slurping and chewing filled the air until the town was once again out of sight, and Silla sighed and sat back in satisfaction, her face red from the spice.

Din reached out to touch her face, and Silla stilled. “Wha-”

“You had some sauce on your cheek,” he said, wiping at it with his thumb.

“Ah, thank you,” she said, and her face turned redder where he’d touched her.

They rested for a bit when they got back to camp, and as the sun set, Silla set out a clay pot of rice to cook and then began packing away as much as she could while Din prepared dinner. The Child first resumed the throw-and-chase of his grass stars, but soon grew bored and climbed onto his father’s shoulder to watch him work. It had been a while since he’d cooked over an open flame, but as long as he paid attention to the food instead of the fire he was fine. In addition to a pot of soup he was making for all of them, he cleaned and stir fried the crab and crawfish for himself and cooked the fish in a separate skillet for Silla, tossing both of them with some vegetables. Silla came over to add some of the dried meat to the soup, then sighed at the smell of sizzling shellfish.

“Crab and shrimp used to be my favorite foods, but after I reached adulthood I suddenly developed an allergy,” she said with a laugh, rolling up the clotheslines. “I used to beg my family to let me have just a small bite but they refused.”

“I won’t be breaking tradition then,” he said, and she laughed again. She’d taken care of everything that was outside the tent, and he told her that dinner would be ready soon. Soon, the soup had simmered long enough, the meat was the right texture, and the rice was steaming and fluffy. He portioned out some of each dish for tomorrow’s breakfast, placing them inside the now dry and empty cooler. When he finished making the dinner trays, Silla took hers and stepped towards the entrance of the tent.

“I’ll go,” Din said, getting up with his plate and the Child’s, but Silla shook her head.

“You’re my guest for now, and I don’t want either you or son to be exposed to the cold,” she said. “Besides, I imagine after I fed him dinner yesterday while you were sleeping, the two of you might want to catch up.”

“I’m wearing armor, and he’s-”

Silla held up a hand and set down her tray. Walking over to her hammock, she pulled out the fur throw, which Din could now recognize as a wolf pelt. Wrapping it around her shoulders, Silla retrieved her tray. “As your host and healer, I insist that you eat inside,” she said. Without waiting for his response, she turned and left the tent.

-----

He hadn’t been as hungry as he’d been for lunch, though the Child took his portions with his usual gusto. Hesitatingly, Din brushed a bit of the crawfish against his ad’ika’s cheek and waited for a reaction. Nothing happened, but he decided to wait at least another day just in case. He’d have to ask Silla if she had the equipment and knowledge to run some tests. The thought of his kid having an allergic reaction, of hives and difficulty breathing, made him shudder. He was snapped out of his morbid thoughts when the Child reached up to pat his face, then reached for the shrimp. “Not yet, ad’ika. I’m not sure it’s safe yet. If it is, we’ll get you some more, okay?” His son pouted a bit, but didn’t protest. Once they’d finished dinner and brushed their teeth, Din got the helmet back on and called in Silla.

The dishes were cleaned and packed away in the hovercraft along with a few remaining bags, and the tent felt a lot larger to Din now that the only things left unpacked were the beds, the large water pot, the cooler, a basket of towels, and a bag of medical supplies. The Child settled into the basket-crib with Din’s cape as his blanket, and with a turn of the music box, he was soon fast asleep.

Silla smiled one of her warm smiles as she kneeled and peered into the basket, and Din wondered the Child looked like through her eyes. She’d said his soul was a brilliant white, but what did that look like when the Child was at peace, well fed, and happy? She then turned towards him, and Din felt her eyes scanning him.

“Were you caught in an explosion recently, or a similar sort of accident?” she asked. When Din answered in the affirmative, she explained, “I’ve noticed several disruptions in your energy along your neck, shoulders, and back. The most critical damage has been healed, but what remains can become an aggravating problem if left untreated. I can start now if you’d like.”

There was likely a reason she’d waited until the child was asleep to bring this up. “What kind of treatment?”

She retrieved the bag and brought out what looked like four pads hooked up to a small radio, along with a metal tray filled with smooth, flat stones the size of her palm. “I can loosen your muscles first with a small electric current, and then do a manual adjustment. I’ll need to apply the pads to bare skin in order for the current to do its job properly, but if you’d rather not, I can do the manual adjustment as long as your armor is removed.”

He had to admire how she was able to say it with such a neutral expression and tone of voice, as if oblivious to the implications or, more likely, aware of the implications but experienced enough for it to not phase her. “So it’s massage therapy.”

“A little more intense,” she said. “Like with the medicine this morning, noise is expected, and in case your helmet has a setting to turn the mic off, I’d rather you didn’t, because if I hit a particularly painful spot, I’d rather know. If you’re in pain and tense up, that works against the treatment. However, it’s all up to you.” She set everything down and folded her hands in her lap.

Din considered it. She’d already undressed him once, the only difference was that this time he’d be conscious of it. The electric current seemed a bit suspicious, but in the unlikely (and it was highly unlikely, given how the kid approved of her) event that she tried something funny, he’d still have his blaster at his hip. “We can do it with the current. Give me a moment.” Silla nodded and closed the tray with the stones, latching it shut. Just like this morning, she gently picked up the Child in his basket and set it on the metal tray, then lifted them both and brought him over to the other side of the tent, out of the shadow of her hammock. She dropped the tray into the large metal pot in the center fire, then stirred the pot and stoked the flame while Din undressed. At some point, satisfied with the fire, she returned to the basket-crib to check on the Child, that smile returning to her face, and she reset the music box. She grabbed the pillow from her hammock and returned to the fire pit, sat facing away from Din, and then simply waited.

He finally got his undershirt off and he told her he was ready. She placed her pillow next to his in an inverted V-shape, and said, “On your stomach. I’ll do your back first.” He did so, and she adjusted the pillows so he could lie face down comfortably. His vision cut off, all he could focus on was the activity of her hands as she applied the pads to his back in a 2x2 grid. She switched on the machine, and the feeling of the electrical current going through him made him shiver. “I’m going to turn up the intensity. Let me know when to stop by raising your left hand.” He heard her turning a knob, and the tingling in near his left shoulder grew until it felt like someone was squeezing the muscle, at which point he raised his left hand. She repeated the process for all four pads, and Din couldn’t help but sigh at the surges that ran through him, squeezing and then relaxing his muscles like… like… 

“We’ll let that do its job for 10 minutes,” Silla said. She got out two towels and laid them over the pads, then stood and went back to the fire pit. He heard her slip on gloves and get the metal tray out of the pot, then she returned to his beside and he groaned as he felt the heat on top of towels, making the electric pulses feel even stronger as they both melted him. He barely registered her “Let me know if it’s too hot” as she covered him with the blanket, and for what feels like an eternity Din just shut his eyes as what feels like years of stress dissolved away with each electric pulse under the heat. He lost track of Silla’s footsteps, but at some point the music box stopped playing and he heard it wind up again.

The electric current stopped and Din shivered as Silla removed all the layers and pads, only to sigh when he felt one of the hot stones digging into his back. He groaned as she pressed it into him, hissed as the pain seemed to build as she dug into a pressure point, only for something to give an audible pop and he released a breath at the same time as she did. “There we go,” she murmured, a pleasant tingling sensation radiating throughout his back while she moved on to make another part of his body feel sour. When the stones had cooled down and it felt like his back muscles had been tenderized, he felt her hands on him. She pressed lightly, but everywhere she pressed made sent a small jolt through him, and he wondered if it was a lingering effect of the electric pads. In particular, when she pressed her hands into his lower back, he felt something travel up his spine to the base of his neck, and he swallowed a lump in his throat.

She asked him to flip over, and the whole process repeated on his chest. Now that Din was facing up, she took back her own pillow. The electric pulses went for longer as she needed time to reheat the stones and metal tray, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. Everything went about the same until it came time to apply the hot stones directly to him. Face up, he could see her sitting at the head of the bed, and when she leaned over, her chest hovered right above his face.

Din was now truly grateful for the Creed and how she respected it, because the only thing that would’ve made this silent torture worse was if she could see the expression on his face. The fact that she’d cured his cold this morning now felt like a curse as he could breathe in her scent with her so close to him, something that smelled like almost over-ripe fruit and steam. His eyes drifted to where he could see a shadow of a nipple poking through her robes and he clenched his teeth. He closed his eyes to rid himself of the temptation, but with that image in his mind, all he could focus on was the heat of her hands travelling and digging into the vulnerable parts of him, taking his pain and replacing it with a warmth that slowly pooled lower and lower. He could mask his groans as the result of the pressure from the stones, but he felt himself growing hard. This time when she set aside the stones and pressed her hands to him, every single touch seemed to send that electric jolt from straight to the base of his skull and then back down. He wasn’t aware of how much he was sweating until Silla shifted to the side of the bed and made small patting motions all over his torso with a dry towel. At that point, Din decided he would risk opening his eyes.

Her expression was neutral while Din focused on keeping his breathing steady. If she said anything about his breathing patterns, he could easily say he was making sure the cold wasn’t returning. She set aside the towel and reached for his undershirt, but paused. Her head turned towards Din, her brows furrowed in concern, and a frown on her face. The tent was silent save for his breathing, and then her brow relaxed and her lips parted a fraction of an inch.

Then Silla leaned down, close enough that he could feel her breath next to his ear, and whispered, “Just so you know, that is a completely normal physical response.” Din continued to focus on his breathing as if the denial made it more likely she meant something else. “While this-” she held up his shirt, “-is still off and your son sleeps, do you want me to take care of that?”

Din’s breathing stopped, and he wondered for a moment if he’d been poisoned and was hallucinating. That would explain why his throat suddenly felt tight. “You don’t-” he stammered. “You’re not-”

Silla’s mouth quirked into a cheeky smile. “There’s a euphemism where I grew up for whores,” she murmured, dark honey dripping into her voice. “Intimate healers. We were taught that for many, sex is as important as food, water, and sleep.” She gently lay herself next to him on the bed, and the hand that had been resting on his shoulder drifted downward. “Considering all the stress and anxiety that surrounds it… and you have been under so much stress already. I would gladly help you with it.” She paused at his stomach, tracing light circles that made his insides twist with heat. “If it’s payment you’re worried about,” she continued, fingers dancing tantalizingly close along his belt, “I’d say after all you’ve given me, you’ve more than earned it.” He seized her hand, squeezing it tightly in his own, holding it just above his belt. He could feel how soft it was, and he loosened his hold only slightly when she gave a small grunt of pain. Slowly, he steadied his breathing and he turned to look at her face. The way her mouth was parted promised warmth and comfort, and when his gaze drifted downward to see her breasts pressing into his side, he groaned before he could stop himself. “One word, yes or no, Mandalorian, and I will respect it,” she said, voice low and breathy.

He wanted, ached to give in, but the tremors in his limbs and the sight of her teeth in that small smile she was giving terrified him. If he gave in to what he wanted, he felt that this woman, this healer, would devour him with her devotion. That he felt scared at all filled him with self-loathing, and soon his mind was locked in a downward spiral. He kept a tight grip on her hand as he pulled it up, where he pressed it against his chest and relished the feel of it for just a while longer. A few more deep breaths, and he croaked, “No.”

And just like that, she lifted herself up, pulling her hand out of his grasp. She handed him his undershirt, and left his side, and while he got the undershirt over his helmet, he glanced over at the basket in case the kid had woken, relieved to hear only silence. He started when Silla appeared again at his side, which in turn caused her to flinch, but she simply handed him a cup of a sweet smelling beverage with a straw sticking out of it. “This tea should help you sleep tonight,” she said, the smile on her face small and tight. “Goodnight Mandalorian.” She rubbed the hand he’d gripped and returned to her hammock. Once she adjusted her bedding and zipped herself inside, silence filled the tent once more.

Din sipped the tea to the last drop and settled back on the bed, breathing deeply and forcing his eyes closed, but it was no use. His mind kept going back to how Silla pressed herself against him. One word, just one word. He tried to simply let the thoughts flow through him, but his body grew unbearably hot, and as he clenched his hand at the sense memories flooded, he knew he couldn’t hold out any longer.

Switching the mic in his helmet to off and grabbing a towel, he slipped off a glove and undid his pants, and shoved his hand inside, hissing at the sweet relief as he found himself as hard as a rock. He rubbed his thumb at the tip, pre-cum dripping into his hand that let him slip it over the rest of his length. He sighed as he squeezed up and down his length and he felt the calluses on his hands Silla’s hands were soft so soft suppose that she were the one doing this right now. She’d lick her lips and let out those breathy moans while she ran her hands up and down his dick, slipping her tunic off her shoulders to reveal those breasts- Din gasped at where his mind was going but he was lost to his own fantasy, pumping faster, his hand catching the tip with each stroke as if-she the tip in her mouth no it was too much she’d been kind too kind and generous with him but she pressed her breasts around the rest of him and how could he refuse. He imagined untangling her hair out of the scarf she wore, imagined that it was as pale as her skin as it flowed down and then he pulled at it then pushed her head down, made her take all of him, and she gasped and gagged around him but soon started moaning and he could hear her saying “Mndhh! Mndhh!” He let go of her head and she sucked hard on the tip, pressing her tongue at the spot that made his head spin. “Mando,” she gasped, a trail of spit going from his dick to her mouth. A smile spread over her face.

“Din…”

The burst of heat slammed into him and he gasped as he came, thick white ropes splattering onto his belly and the towel. He kept stroking for as much as he could, but the fantasy image began to fade along with the body heat. Before long, his head cleared, and he could feel his breathing return to normal. He absent-mindedly wiped himself off with the towel, thinking for a moment that he should toss it in the fire when he was done, before deciding on the less stupid idea of just hiding it on his person. Once done, his arm hung limply at his side. Din sighed at how his body felt like his own again, and he closed his eyes to welcome sleep.

In the dead silence of the tent, Din’s heart just about stopped when he heard Silla sigh and groan, and it didn’t start beating again until he heard the faint snoring that followed. He was beginning to regret offering her a place in his crew, but to rescind his offer after all the preparation and packing they’d done would be an act of complete cowardice.

Maybe once they were on the ship and some time had passed things would cool down, but even as Din considered such a chain of events, his instincts warned him that a professional relationship was not going to make this any easier.

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Sander Sides Fic Rec

I’ve been reading some awesome fics on AO3 and I’d thought I would share them with others on Tumblr to check ‘em out if you haven’t yet!

Growing up Parts of a Whole by @amydiddle-fanfiction - Side by Side; Piece by Piece. While Thomas grew his sides did too. Each one a different part of him and each one developing on their own time before they were allowed out to interact with the others. They all have their story on how they formed and became aware of themselves and they each played their part even before they manifested in the physical world for the first time.

Notes: Ever wondered what the Sides were like as children? Then this fantastic series of oneshots & short novellas is for you! The wordbuilding in this is wonderful and the characterizations are great. 

In a Tizzy by @coconut-cluster -  "Headcanon that Roman acts so confident that the others rarely ever think to compliment him. He’s not used to being complimented, so on those rare occasions where he is, he gets all quiet & blushy & flustered."

Notes: This one was based on a tumblr post that was going around awhile back by @peachy-pattoncake. Prepare to have your heart destroyed by angst and then reconstructed by fluff. Logan discovers that Roman acts unusually flustered after he compliments him and in true Logan fashion decides to test out a hypothesis on this.

A Little Bit Naughty by @princessdarth-vader​ - Logan's parents have called him some terrible things. The truth is, he's a genius, and they're the stupid ones. Logan is determined to get his own back, and soon discovers he has a special power. With the help of his closest friends and some helpful grown-ups, Logan must unearth a secret far larger than himself in order to right the atrocities committed against him and change his story for good. Strap in, folks. It's the Matilda! AU that no-one asked for

Notes: Regrettably I’ve never read the book or seen the musical for Matilda, but this AU is still awesome as heck to read, even if you’re coming into the story without knowing that context. It features kid!genius Logan, Emile as a friendly librarian, Thomas as Logan’s kindergarten teacher and Roman and Patton as fellow students. The characterizations in this are great--Logan and the others are clearly children but still retain their personalities.

Within Bounds by Immortalnite -  It was the middle of winter when all the crops across the kingdom failed. The Winter Solstice, in fact, though almost no one knew that.

Notes: This fantasy au only has two chapters out but definitely deserving of a lot more love. It features Roman as a prince last in line for the succession of the throne being tasked by his father to contact the Elves for a solution to the crops problem. The writing is beautiful and the worldbuilding is terrific.

More Fic Recs below the cut!

Space (All I think about is you and me) by @hahanoiwont​ - They're all together when Virgil spaces out for the first(?) time. After being accepted, Virgil is becoming less anxious. Unsurprisingly, he is anxious about it.

Notes: This is a wonderful fic with fantastic worldbuilding that hinges on a slight AU. This perhaps features my favorite characterizations for both Virgil and Deceit. It takes place shortly after Virgil is welcomed into the famILY and the author does a good job of showing how Virgil is still adjusting to the fact he doesn’t put up the scary bad guy persona anymore. Deceit, on the other hand, is morally grey in this story. Neither friend nor foe, though he does lean towards the sympathetic side. I think the author handles his character tastefully.This fic does feature the author’s dark!side OCs but like w/ the canon characters they’re written well As you can see from this paragraph-long comment, I really really enjoy this fic!

The Consequences of Sound by Acantha_Echo - Anxiety hurts Thomas. It's just what he does, what he has always done. It's not what he wants. He only wants to protect him but that is easier wished for than done.When the opportunity to prove himself opens up to him, he grabs it, for once not caring about the consequences.Things go downhill from there.The fall, rise, fall (and rise again) of Virgil.

Notes: This fic follows Virgil from Thomas’ childhood to the present-ish. The current chapter takes place on the timeline around Losing My Motivation and My Personality Q&A. It features manipulative!Deceit who claims to be Virgil’s “friend.” Man, this fic is REALLY GOOD. There will be parts where your heart is torn into pieces because of Virgil’s predicaments. Please go read it if you can.

Fanged Friend by Demon_Writer - It burned. It scorched. The longer he waited the more intense it grew. He's never woken up so early with so much hunger. His breaths were like sharp icicles coming up and down his windpipe. Damn. He’s never been this hungry before. Every shuffle of feet and breath directed towards him was unnaturally..... tempting. Virgil's fangs pricked at his tongue and his eyes narrowed, but his mind couldn't have been any foggier. Virgil's worried he might end up taking more than just blood. At this rate it can only escalate.

Notes: Hi friends! Do you love vampires? Because BOY DO I HAVE A STORY FOR YOU. What originally started out as an oneshot turned into a multi-chapter story with fascinating vampire lore and intriguing plot. It’s definitely one of my favorite fics to date!

Logan’s Room by @galacticallynonbinary​ - Logan Sanders knows everything. He has nothing new to learn. He's never talked to the other sides; there is nothing they could possibly teach him. But when they come knocking, his entire viewpoint comes into question

Notes: This is an oneshot, but it’s so wonderfully written that I had to include it in this fic rec! It’s just under 1k, but the characterizations are awesome and it’s based off the Mary’s Room thought experiment except with Logan and it’s great!

Written on Paper by @galacticallynonbinary​ - Logan is in charge of facts. They all come to him on small pieces of paper. Sometimes, they fly in on paper airplanes. The paper planes taunt him, and paper storms and paper avalanches make him worry for the other sides.Or: Idioms are real and incredibly distressing

Notes: Yes it’s another fic by galacticallynonbinary, and it also features Logan, but it’s such a clever fic I had to include it as well! I love how they take idioms and make them take on literal forms in the mindscape. This fic has a snowball effect where things become progressively worse and worse for Logan until the climax hits and I love how it keeps you on the edge of your seat.

Wings of Anxiety by Shadecrawler - Virgil normally kept his wings pressed tight against his back. He never let them out to stretch when he was outside his room. Yes, they got sore after a little while and yes, it rustled his feathers to the point that it took forever to groom them.But, he couldn’t take them out. He just couldn’t. Dark Sides didn’t have wings. Only Light Sides did.

Notes: I’m always a sucker for hurt/comfort and this fic definitely hits that sweet spot. Plus, I adore wing!au fics in general. Thomas is featured heavily in the second half of this two-shot and that’s always a plus!

A Letter from Me to You (For Better or Worse) by writing_regen - Fate may have some ideas on who we can be. Yet we are the only ones that can see it through. There is a disconnect between who we were born to be and who we become. That gap - that uncertainty, is where others can find room for exploitation.

Prince Logan has always felt out of place, even with his advisor Patton at his side. Roman, a tailor winding the streets in hopes of something greater won't let his dreams be crushed, even as Virgil tries to act as the only reliable voice of reason in his life. Around the corner hides another dark twisted tale of dreams, and it knows what it needs to get what it wants.

Notes: This is a brand new fic but I’m definitely excited to see where it goes! The author stated in their notes that it’s based off the Princess and Pauper. I already love the dynamics of Patton’s and Logan’s relationship in the first chapter--they’re childhood friends who’ve grown up together, with Patton being the one to drag Logan along for adventures.  

Redemption of a Prince by @anxious-baby-nightmare -  Roman feels as though his behavior is negatively impacting the rest of the group and tries to change himself for the better. But is that what everyone else thinks?

Notes: Hey do you love Roman “Princey” Sanders? Do you love angst? THEN THIS HERE IS THE FIC FOR YOU. Don’t worry, though it’s angst with a happy ending. This was a fun ride from start to finish, and I loved the author’s worldbuilding with the mechanics of the Imagination.

[callsignbaphomet]

RadAway

This has been sitting in my Docs since January 2016. Back into Fallout 4 so edited and fixed it as much as I could. Kinda---ok pretty cornny I guess.

He’d jumped into the water after him, Jelani knew it happened but he still couldn't believe it, he jumped into the water after him. He never goes near large bodies of water, nowhere near rivers, ponds, lakes, much less the shore. Just the thought of Libertalia made Angelus hyperventilate. He’d bite into mirelurk cakes and other mirelurk food with such ferocity you’d think he was eating it out of spite instead of hunger. If it had anything to do with large bodies of water or anything that lived in it Angelus would turn back in fear. So why did he jump into the water to help him?

 The mercenary stood by the front door and kept an eye out for Rayner’s arrival. It shouldn't have taken this long, when they spoke on the ham radio he told Jelani he was tending to some wounded settlers over at Coastal Cottage, another settlement Jelani thought of as too small, too exposed and too miserable to be considered a proper living quarter. Recent raider attacks proved him right.

 Rayner had given him his word that as soon as he was done with tending to the wounded he’d make his way over to them. For now all Jelani could do for Angelus was to keep him away from anything radioactive and to give him plenty of purified water. As cruel as it sounded it would've also been best if he avoided any food for the time being. In his delicate state even half a gram of radioactive intake could worsen his state and create further health problems.

 In the distance Jelani spotted Dagny patrolling the area, she usually did so with Maya by her side but Maya had stayed with Angelus to keep an eye on him. As soon as Jelani had gotten him to lay down in bed and placed a blanket over him Maya had jumped into bed with him and placed her head on his neck while keeping watch and trying her best to comfort him.

 “Hey, Dagny! C’mon, girl!” Jelani called out to the small night stalker who quickly turned her head towards him and ran to him as her tail wagged. That's what Jelani loved about Dagny, the world could end all over again and she’d still look at Jelani with a huge, goofy grin on her face and her tail would wag so fast the rattler at the end of her tail would sound more like a hum. He thought that as long as Dagny would smile, wag her tail and look up at him with those two big pretty eyes nothing could be as bad as it seemed.

 As Dagny ran towards Jelani he tapped his chest twice which prompted her to jump up so he could carry her. When the creature was caught Jelani hugged her tightly and walked into the barn. Once inside he set her down and she ran over to Maya who was still next to Angelus. Dagny stood on her hind legs and stretched her neck forward to sniff around the bed while wagging her tail and putting on a huge, goofy grin. This made Jelani feel slightly better; he hadn't shown any concern towards Angelus’ injuries, not because he didn't care, but because he didn't want to cause panic. A cool and reserved head in these situations proved better.

 “Hey, girl…” Angelus spoke with a raspy whisper as he slowly stretched his arm out to pet Dagny.

 “Down, Dagny. Leave ‘im alone.”

 “It’s fine...I’m okay.” Angelus said as he turned to Maya to pet her as well.

 “No, you're not.” Jelani walked over to the chair he'd placed close to the bed and sat down. He checked Angelus and was relieved to see his nose had stopped bleeding though his eyes were still bloodshot and watery. He placed his palm on his forehead but his fever hadn't lowered despite his best efforts to keep him cool.

 “It’s okay, sweetie.” Angelus reassured Maya who’d let out a quiet whimper. “I never even asked...are you okay?” The question had obviously been directed at Jelani.

 “I’m fine.”

 “Don't worry so much. I’ll be fine.” Angelus chuckled as he sat up on the bed. He clicked his tongue as he scratched behind both of Maya’s ears and smiled at the dog.

 Jelani wanted to say something or rather ask something. He knew Angelus was terrified of water and of anything that swam in it. Mirelurks were frightening but mirelurk kings terrified him to the bone, they were known for dragging their prey to the deeper ends of whatever lake or shore they lived in and pulled them down ultimately drowning their prey. When that mirelurk king had grabbed Jelani and pulled him under he thought he was done for. Just remembering the incident was terrifying enough to send a chill down his spine. The helpless feeling of kicking as much as he could only to keep going further down, watching the bubbles of air rapidly shooting up, fear of not knowing how much longer he could hold his breath, fear of swallowing irradiated water and the panic he felt when his chest began to burn. If it hadn't been for that one well-placed kick to the creature’s head he might have drowned. It was like a fuzzy memory buried in the back of his mind that seemed to have been too fast to process but Jelani knew it had been Angelus who ran down the dock to where he was and helped him out of the water before the aquatic beast could grab him again. It was hours later when Jelani managed to process the fact that Angelus had rushed to help him. He set aside his fear of water and aquatic creatures to help him despite having always joked that he would have Jelani’s back no matter what unless it involved water.

 Unfortunately the rescue almost ended in tragedy when the mirelurk swam back up and grabbed Angelus. In his panic he had quickly opened his mouth to shout and ingested a lot of irradiated water, water that also filled his lungs. When Jelani managed to finally kill the creature he’d pulled Angelus to the surface and between Maya and Dagny they got him to shore where Jelani managed to get him to start breathing again. But due to the high level of radiation in the water and how much of it got into Angelus he’d quickly began to show signs of radiation sickness. Luckily his nose and gums hadn't bled that much but as the hours went by Jelani grew worried over how much Angelus was slouching and breathing hard. He was worried about the fact that his skin kept getting paler by the minute. Why did he risk drowning? He’d let others die gruesome deaths before, why was Jelani an exception? Jelani had his suspicions, he’d been carefully watching Angelus’ behavior for the past two months and as careful as he was he’d sometimes slip and make it seem a bit obvious so that Jelani could notice. This past week his slip ups were frequent and careless. Maybe it was nothing at all but Jelani just couldn't let it go, he had to hear Angelus’ answer.

 “Can I ask you something?” Jelani broke the silence.

 “Mmmm what?”

 “Why did you jump into the water to help me? You hate water; you're scared to death of it.”

 Jelani looked at Angelus as he waited for an answer. He noticed he’d stopped scratching Maya’s ears and sat perfectly still, Jelani could even tell he’d stopped breathing for a few seconds.

 “I didn't want to--”

 “Hello? Jelani!”

 Before Angelus could answer Rayner had finally arrived. While Jelani was glad that he did his timing was terrible. He balled up his hands into a fist out of frustration and quickly stood up to open the door.

 Angelus noticed the reaction but was both relieved and annoyed at the interruption. He decided to not bring up the conversation again unless Jelani did, whether he was truthful or not was up for debate.

 “Hey, guys.” Rayner greeted as he walked into the barn and walked up to Angelus. His usual cheerful smile was plastered across his face as he stood in front of his patient. His cheerful disposition and happy smiles worked with children and most adults but Angelus was always reserved around doctors. He knew Rayner was legit and cared for his patients but he still couldn't help but feel nervous around him.

 “So what happened?”

 “Mirelurk king attacked us. Pulled him into the water and he almost drowned.” Jelani explained.

 “Swallowed a lot of water?”

 “Yeah.”

 “All right, what are the symptoms so far?”

 “Nose bled for a while, his gums were bloody, he threw up a couple times on our way here, gotten really pale, his eyes are watery and bloodshot, and he has a fever.”

 “Any blood in the vomit?”

 “I...didn't look in it.” Jelani regrettably admitted.

 “A little bit.” Angelus spoke up.

 “Okay, how long ago was he exposed to the water?”

 “Probably fourteen hours ago.”

 “Alrighty, lemme just take a look here for a sec. Open your mouth as wide as you can.” Rayner held Angelus’ mouth open but as soon as he looked inside he jerked back in surprise. “Oh, boy…”

 “What?” Jelani asked with a little more concern in his tone than he had intended.

 Angelus caught the tone and quickly looked to Jelani who’d taken a few steps toward him.

 “Gums are bleeding again. Sorry, Angelus, gonna have to go direct this time.” Rayner said as he looked through his medical bag.

 “What do you mean?”

 Rayner retrieved a large plastic bag with a white label on the surface with “RadAway” crudely written on it. The sickly orange colored liquid swished as Rayner placed the bag beside Angelus as he retrieved the other tools he needed. As he did he gave the boys instructions that they needed to follow if they wanted Angelus to recover.

 “Now, you're gonna need to stay with this on you all night long and I’m sorry to say there will be side effects. Mostly just a headache and stomach pain which shouldn't be too bad but just in case. Jelani?” Rayner turned to Jelani and handed him a syringe but before letting go of the chem he sternly gave more instructions, “This is only for extreme cases. It doesn't happen a lot but it does happen. Should the headache or stomach pain be very painful give him this.”

 “Got it.”

 “Leaving only one Med-X just in case.”

 “What the fuck do you mean by that, Doc?” Angelus bitterly said. He knew exactly what Rayner had meant but knowing full well that Rayner was not a combative person or one to be upfront he wanted to make him say what he had meant as a means to embarrass him and startle him from taking jabs at him. It hadn't been a jab but Angelus felt it had been.

 “I mean you have a problem and by the track marks on your arm it isn't a small problem though I am glad to see there aren't any fresh ones at all.”

 Angelus chuckled to masquerade the fact that his plan backfired and blew up in his face. Seems Rayner had taken his wife’s advice to grow a pair and not let “punks like that raider scumbag” push him around. Rayner was right about one thing, well, two things but Angelus was never one to admit even to himself that he had a long history of addiction problems. He couldn't remember the last time he’d shot up any Psycho or taken any Buffout, in fact, he had no real recollection of when exactly he had stopped aching for the next high. He thought back to last week and the week before that and the week before that and the only substance he had continued to use was alcohol and had taken up more smoking than he had before. He honestly had no idea when he’d stopped having the need to get high off chems though he certainly knew why he stopped.

 “Enough!” Jelani exclaimed as he turned to Rayner and then to Angelus. “So one shot of this only if the pain gets really bad.”

 “Yes.” Rayner nodded as he grabbed Angelus’ right hand, cleaned the top of it and began to insert a small thin needle into one of the veins. He’d asked Jelani to take the bag of RadAway and place it on the wall behind Angelus to keep the liquid flowing down. Without a proper stand Jelani had no choice but to tape the bag to the wall. He'd been careful not to press on it tightly so he used plenty of tape to avoid it falling off the wall since it would have to be there all night long.

 “That okay?” Jelani asked as he stood back to see the tape covered IV bag. Honestly speaking it looked crude and he was sure it would fall but he’d make sure it didn't.

 “Yeah, it's fine.” Rayner then turned to Angelus, “Please, please, please, do not remove the needle until every drop of that is gone. In fact, I’m gonna stay over at Coastal Cottage for the night to keep an eye on some of the wounded but I’ll drop by tomorrow to check up on you.”

 “It's ok, Ray.” Angelus waved him off with a small smile. He honestly didn't think of the situation was that severe.

 “Sure, Ray,” Jelani interjected, “We’ll sit tight here until he’s better.”

 “Ok, well, best head back before it gets dark. Remember, don't remove that needle at all. If the area starts to kinda itch its fine just lightly scratch it. No food yet only purified water and plenty of it if you have it. I got three bottles on me.”

 Angelus raised his left hand and shook his head, “Keep it. We got plenty stashed here.”

 “All right. So just be sure to not move around too much, keep an eye on that fever. It should go down after the fourth hour on the IV. If it doesn't don't panic, it just means we need to administer another dose. Uh, Jelani, take this,” Rayner handed Jelani a small bottle of pills labeled Rad-X, “One every hour. Just in case.”

 “Thanks, Ray. Need me to go back with you?” Jelani asked as he looked up and then back at the bottle of pills.

 “No, no, don't worry, someone from Coastal Cottage escorted me. Just keep an eye on him.”

 “How much do we owe you?”

 “Jesus, Jelani, what kinda doctor would I be if I charge people for medical help?”

 “A normal one?” Angelus chuckled as he leaned his head on the wall.

 “Ha, ha, look, I don't charge any that need my help whether it's a settler, mercenary or even a raider. We make our caps by other means just so I can do this. You guys know that.”

 “Well, thanks a lot, Ray. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

 “See ya, guys. Bye, Maya, bye, Dagny.”

 Jelani escorted Rayner out of the barn mostly to take a look at the escort he'd brought with him. She seemed hardy and able so Jelani didn't feel too bad about not escorting him back himself but Rayner was right, he needed to stay behind to keep an eye on Angelus in case he got worse. Before walking back in he took a single pill from the bottle of Rad-X that Rayner had given him. He thought it might’ve not been necessary but it was better to be safe. He’d be no use to Angelus if he got sick too.

 As he locked up the front door he remembered the question he asked Angelus but had been interrupted by Rayner. He still wanted to know what his answer was but he didn't want to seem desperate to know although he was. He recalled what Angelus had started to say and it seemed to make his suspicions all the stronger and if he was to be honest he did like how he was starting that answer. Maybe if he asked again the tension would cease, he’d been feeling the tension for some time now, suddenly interacting with him felt heavy on him. He was careful about what he said, he seemed to not be angered by Angelus at all, grand feat as most everyone seemed to anger Jelani easily and then there was that panic he felt when he saw Angelus wasn't breathing. When he'd dragged Angelus back to shore and he saw he wasn't breathing the same panic he felt when he’d seen his brother fall to his death hit him hard.

 Jelani often made it clear to everyone that he didn't care about anyone at all except for his brother Loke and the day he died he thought he’d never care about anyone again. But there he was hovering over his friend as he tried to resuscitate him while fighting off that familiar panic. Maybe Angelus was the exception to the rule? Whatever it was, it didn't explain the overwhelming relief he felt when he'd gotten Angelus to cough up the water in his lungs. Not to mention the attention he was giving him though he could argue that the attention was justified since he had almost drowned and was now sick from radiation exposure. But then again if Jelani didn't care at all about anyone he wouldn't have cared about why Angelus jumped into the water to help him.

 “How do you feel?” Jelani broke the silence as he walked up to Angelus.

 “Kinda groggy but okay I guess.”

 “You should get some sleep.”

 “Can't sleep, getting kinda hungry. You should get some rest though.”

 Jelani opened his mouth to say something but his words failed him. Why did he have to know Angelus’ answer? Why was it so important to him? Why was he hoping for a specific answer? One that he was so afraid to admit to. He could play it off as curiosity getting the better of him if the answer wasn't the one he was hoping for but it didn't sit well with him.

 “What?” Angelus asked while looking at Jelani.

 “What what?” Jelani stuttered as he shook his head.

 “You're standing there gawking at me. Fuck’s wrong with you?”

 “Nothing. Good night.” Jelani answered as he turned and quickly walked towards his bed but half way there he scuffed and turned around, “No, you know what? I gotta know. Why’d you do it?”

 “What does it matter?”

 “Goddamn it, answer the fucking question.”

 Angelus was surprised to say the least. He didn't think Jelani would bring up the subject again much less be so adamant about knowing why he did it. He honestly wanted to tell Jelani the truth but he was also terrified that he’d be overstepping his boundaries. If he didn't tell him the truth he knew he'd be frustrated and would eventually regret it but at least he’d still be able to have Jelani as a friend. If he told him the truth at least the tension would cease but there was also the chance that he'd push Jelani away or maybe nothing would happen.

 “You're my friend,” Angelus started as he lowered his gaze, disappointed in himself for not having the courage to tell Jelani the whole truth, “Actually, you're the only friend I have and I didn't want to lose you...”

 “Oh…” Jelani whispered. That was the answer he was afraid of, the answer he was hoping not to hear and yet there it was. It left a bad taste in his mouth but there was nothing he could do about it without making things complicated. He lowered his gaze and turned to go back to his own bed now that he had his answer, though he regretted ever bringing up the question in the first place.

 “And...because I’m in love with you.”

 Jelani stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes widened and second guessed what he heard. Had he really heard Angelus say that or was it wishful thinking that had gotten out of control? He slowly turned around while he tried to catch his breath, his mouth turned into a smile that stopped halfway as he tried to say something but he couldn't decide if he should laugh or say something to him. He walked back to Angelus who had remained perfectly still with his head down causing his hair to cover up most of his face. Jelani stood beside Angelus and tried as hard as he could to control his smile but the more he tried the wider his smile got so he gave up on trying to control it.

 “What did you say?”

 “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have said that.” Angelus swallowed hard as he tried to control his breathing and kept his head down as to avoid looking at Jelani who he guessed must have looked furious.

 “You’re what?” Jelani asked. He still had a wide smile on his face. He’d crouched down beside the bed and raised his right hand to tuck Angelus’ hair behind his ear to get a better look at his face. He grabbed his chin and lifted his face so Jelani could see him better.

 “I…” Angelus began but he trailed off as he shifted his eyes to the side to avoid looking at Jelani directly. Jelani seemed calm and bore a curious expression instead of anger like he had expected. This did catch him off guard but he was afraid to repeat what he had confessed to.

 “Seriously...what did you say?” Jelani repeated himself. He’d heard him the first time but he wanted to solidify what he heard. Not out of spite, anger or confusion but to make sure Angelus was sure of what he had said before Jelani could say anything to him.

 “I um...I’m...in love with you.” Angelus slowly turned his eyes away from Jelani’s and tried to turn his face away but Jelani still had a good grip on his chin.

 “No, no, look at me. You are?” Jelani let out a chuckle and smiled once more.

 “Yes.”

 Jelani chuckled again only this time he lowered his head and gently placed his forehead on Angelus’ arm, “God, at least you had the balls to say what I’ve been scared shitless to say for so long now.”

 “Come on, Haakonson, you ain't afraid of any---wait, what?” Angelus looked up at Jelani as soon as what he said registered. He stared at Jelani in disbelief of what he heard him say.

 “I love you too.”

 Before Angelus could speak again and Jelani would lose his nerve he looked up and kissed him. Angelus was caught by surprise at Jelani’s answer and reaction but he was also relieved that admitting he was in love with him hadn't been met with hostility as he thought it would be. Everything was still processing in his head and despite what Jelani had said and the fact that he was still kissing him Angelus pulled away and looked him in the eye.

 “I thought you'd be pissed off.”

 “No way, never. If I’d been a little braver I would've told you myself.”

 Jelani leaned in but as his lips brushed up against Angelus’ he backed up remembering he was still sick from radiation exposure and as much as he wanted to feel his lips on his once more he didn't want Jelani to get sick either. He quietly pointed to the RadAway clumsily taped to the wall. Jelani responded by rattling the bottle of Rad-X which he then placed back on the table next to the bed.

 ---

 “Oh, that's a load of shit.”

 “It’s true! That's all they talk about down at the harbor.”

 “Ain't nobody ever seen nothin’ in the shore except for mirelurks, much less a--a ghoul whale. Do they even know what a whale is? They're pulling your leg, Ray.”

 “Well, I guess so. Maybe they're just confusing it with debris or something else.”

 Rayner had kept his promise to check up on the mercenary and the raider first thing in the morning. He restocked his bag and asked Cyrus to escort him in case there was trouble.

 Cyrus was more than happy to go along with him; sitting still with a rifle behind a turret was not exactly something he looked forward to doing three days in a row. He preferred the open road or at the very least patrolling the area. The walk to the farm wasn't exceptionally long but he was grateful for the chance to stretch his legs. Along the way Cyrus and Rayner talked about the other settlements and newest developments from the Wasteland.

 Rayner had been glad it was Cyrus that volunteered, he had a habit of talking too much but through his ramblings Rayner found out good information like which settlements needed more medical help, which ones needed medical supplies and which ones had vendors wandering through them that sold medicine. With the recent attack medical supplies were low in Coastal Cottage but he had hoped one dose of RadAway would've been enough but he brought another bag just in case. Usually one did the trick but having swallowed a lot of contaminated water could be difficult to deal with. If he did need another dose he’d spend one more night in the small settlement to further check up on his patient and make sure he was back to his old self again though he admitted the Commonwealth felt more peaceful without that warhead running loose in it.

 As they came up on the dairy farm they spotted Maya and Dagny playing in the front but as soon as they spotted Rayner and Cyrus they quickly ran over to greet them.

 “Hi, girls!” Rayner greeted as he reached into his pocket and pulled out two small treats for each which they happily chewed on.

 “Do your thing, Doc. I’ll keep watch out here.”

 What Cyrus really meant was that he’d stay outside to play with the dog and the dog like critter and would prefer not to see any needles going into or out of any surface. That was fine by Rayner, Cyrus could watch out for trouble.

 “Hello?” Rayner called out as he opened the front door and carefully looked around. The first place he walked to was the sleeping bag next to the western wall where he’d seen Angelus the night before but it was empty and the RadAway was not taped to the wall.

 “Guys? Hey, everything alright?” For a minute he thought they’d left but he quickly remembered seeing Maya and Dagny playing outside. He called out again a little louder but was only met with silence. Rayner was beginning to worry and to call more frequently and louder until he finally got a response which happened to be Angelus peaking over the bed that was on the second floor.

 “Ugh, it's morning already? Gross.”

 “Go back to sleep, will ya?” Jelani groaned as he swung his right arm over Angelus and placed his head over Angelus’ who then smiled as he saw Rayner’s face turn bright red.

 “Oh, my god! I’m sorry, guys!” Rayner yelled as he quickly turned his gaze aside and placed his hand over his eyes in case neither of them had gotten dressed yet.

 The yelling prompted Cyrus to burst through the front door with his rifle at the ready and a steady gaze scanning the building. As soon as he saw Rayner he lowered his rifle and defenses, slightly turned his head, and looked up to see what made Rayner’s face turn as red as a ripe tato. He chuckled as he rested the rifle over his shoulder.

 “Guess the wife was right after all. I take it you're feelin’ right as a mole rat in a garden, ain't ya, sweetheart?”

 “Yes, he is.” Jelani laughed.

 “So I um...I can just head outside and--and wait for you guys to get dressed and--”

 “Relax, Proper Penny,” Angelus chuckled as he carefully sat up on the bed, “Even if we wanted to fever didn't go down till a little after midnight.”

 “So how do you feel?” Rayner asked as he walked up the stairs to check up on the raider.

 “Honestly? Starving but okay, I guess. So can I take this thing off?”

 “Let me see.” Rayner took a thermometer from his bag and placed it under Angelus’ tongue to make sure his fever was really gone.

 “Well?” Angelus asked.

 “Be patient. Takes a minute or two and we'd rather be sure. Jelani, you're not showing symptoms are you?”

 “I’m good, popped a few Rad-X last night.”

 They patiently waited for Rayner to check his temperature as Angelus leaned on Jelani. He honestly felt fine and had a lot more energy than he did the day before. He was thankful that he was no longer shivering from the cold and didn't feel like he would vomit every time he moved. After a minute Rayner removed the thermometer, looked at it and smiled.

 “Fever’s gone. Unfortunately for everyone in the Wasteland you've got a clean bill of health, McGrath. You can go back to being your usual terrible self.”

 “Hey, that's great.” Cyrus said as he tossed a small parcel full of caps towards Jelani. “You boys up for a little huntin’?”

 “Who’s the target?” Angelus enthusiastically asked as he turned to Cyrus.

 “We found out where those Gunners that hit us are hiding. My sources say they're in Salem, exactly where, I have no idea but they were spotted setting up a little nest there. Take ‘em all out and I’ll send one of my guys with some extra caps. What do you say?”

 “Babe?” Angelus turned to look at Jelani to see what he’d say. Angelus was obviously ready and willing to go. He needed the stimulation after two days of dragging his feet and sitting down while barely moving.

 Jelani on the other hand was concerned that Angelus would be pushing himself too hard. He could've easily died from the radiation sickness but as he looked at him he seemed fine and lively. They'd obviously get some food in them before moving out, clean themselves up and feed the dogs. He loved how excited Angelus seemed so he smiled at him, put the caps down on the bed and while still looking at Angelus he said, “They're as good as dead.”

[love-in-nature]

OUAD Chapter 59: Solas - Truth Through Wisdom

Full story on my AO3

When he entered the Fade part of him had hoped to find her waiting for him there, part of him had hoped she wouldn’t be.  This seemed to be much the way of it lately.  Emotions and desires torn, swirling inside of him like a whirlwind.  He still did not believe he was wrong for what he had asked.  He still believed she was wrong for not accepting what had to be done.  Yet, he wished he had not said what he had.  He wished he could get the image of the pain on her face out of his head.

In any case, it seemed she was not there and he doubted she would come.  He informed Sherlock of this when the spirit greeted him.  In truth, Solas wanted the reminder of her gone for the moment.  Not that this made any difference.  His thoughts still remained unwavering on her.

That was until Wisdom came.  He felt her before he saw her; they had, after all, been friends for a very very long time.  The moment she appeared he went to her and enveloped her in a hug.  Unused to such displays from him, she stiffened for a moment before she laughed in his ear.  Then her arms went around him and she gave him a hug back.

When he released her she smiled at him before she said in Elvhen, “Good to see you, my friend.”

It had been long since he had anyone converse with him in Elvhen.  The sensation of it warmed him. “And you.  I have missed you, I trust your rest was pleasant?”

“It was, though I wake to find much changed with you and the Fade.”  Her face softened,  “Tell me what has happened.  I have seen much but I wish to hear in your words.”

He took a deep breath and brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.  After a beat he started with his thoughts, the reasons he had seen Corypheus as his only option, the mistake of thinking that parasite would not survive it.  Then he told her of everything else up to this point.  Finally he told of her of his plans to fix the problem he had created.

He did not mention anything about Emma.  It was painful for him to speak of her at this time.  Besides that, his feelings in regards to her were intense and confusing to him.  The way she made him feel was unlike anything he had experienced before or ever expected.  She was unlike anything he expected.  One surprise after another.

“You left out what is troubling you most tonight.”

“I--” He swallowed and glanced away before saying quietly, “It should not be.”

Wisdom smiled at him and tilted her head a hint, “From what I have come to understand, she should not be.  At least not here.  Yet she is and it is.”  She paused before adding,  “I’d very much like to meet her.”

He could not help the hint of a smile on his own lips, “She said the same about you.”  Then the smile fell, “I am unsure if she will come here however.  We had a,” he paused a beat and glanced away from her, “disagreement.”

“A fight.”

Still unable to meet her eyes directly he said, “A disagreement.  She refused to see reason and I became,”  He paused again, looking for the wording then took a somewhat shaky breath, “I confess I lost my temper, I said something I should not have.”

“Perhaps I can help,”  She reached out her hand, “May I?”

She could simply seek it out herself if she wished but always polite, she never dug into his memories without permission.  It was one of the things he had always appreciated about her.  

Now he nodded before placing his hand in hers.  He watched her changing expression.  First the lips curved in a soft smirk, then the brows furrowed and the corners of her mouth turned down, and finally her eyebrows rose.  When she opened her eyes and released his hand there was a look of pity there.

“Solas.  You should not have done that.”

His fingers flexed, “I realize I should not have said what I did in the end but the rest... She should be able to see that what I asked was---”

“What you asked was for her to manipulate her best friend and the woman who saved her life.  Not only that but you asked this of her after she had given you pleasure.  Do you not see?  You took then you ordered.”

His heart skipped a beat, he felt his ears start to heat, “The timing was unfortunate but that does not change the fact that ideals cannot come before the greater good.  If we are to fix this then the mages must be the ones chosen, not the templars.  We sometimes must take regrettable actions, she is being naive.”

Wisdom smiled and shook her head once more, “She is being much like someone else I knew so many centuries ago.”

He frowned before snapping out, “We all must grow up.  Learn.”

“Tell me, my dear one, do you wish to force her to become what you have?  Do you want her to lose all trust.  To no longer have the soft warmth you treasure in her so.  You speak of her ideals now as though they are poison on your tongue but it is not always so, is it?”  

The words stung and made him pause.  Of course he did not wish for her to have to become like him.  He did not want to see that easy laugh of hers tucked away.  He did not want the light to be pushed from her, but things were complicated.  It would surely not have done so much damage if she had done what he had asked.

He opened his mouth to reply but Wisdom spoke first, “Are those very ideals not among the things that have made you fall in love with her?”

The words hit him with force.  In love with her.  

“I am not---”  

He was not.  It was not possible for him to be.  Love, real love, was not something most experienced.  It was a term thrown about to garner the chance of a good partnering, to raise your family up higher by working your way into someone’s bed.  Only once before had he thought himself in love, and the woman in love with him, he had been very wrong.

It had always been in the back of his mind that the reason he was so attached to Emma was because she was like him.  He had caught glimpses of guilt in her over some past event that he had no desire to pry into.  There was that sadness in her eyes sometimes that had so mirrored his own.  She was alone, apart from the world she found herself in, and she was a dreamer.  Connected to the Fade in a way that rivaled his own.

She was intelligent, curious, and eager.  When he taught her she hung on his words but was not submissive to him.  Indeed, despite the fact she had seen more of his power than others and was a full head smaller than he, she had no issues challenging him when she felt it was needed.  Even if it was not, in his opinion.

When he thought about it, the feelings he had felt towards the woman before had been nothing, minor pings compared to what Emma made him feel.  His thoughts were flooded with her, his skin ached for her touch, his eyes sought her out begging for even a glimpse to satiate his hunger for her, and his desire to be joined with her was so intense that it was painful at times.

She made him feel alive.  She made him want to live.  To have a life that was not possible.  She made him want even though he should not, even though it hurt.  Even though it could not be.

As he had been thinking, he had paced.  Now he found himself at the window seat where she liked to curl up.  The image of her there was vivid in his mind; her hair catching the sun like silken fire, her head bent, perhaps her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth as she focused, and her legs tucked up in some odd, often uncomfortable looking, manner.

He lowered himself to the seat.  As he did so his hands went to his lap and he found they were shaking.  His eyes watched them puzzled for a moment before he clasped them together, “I love her.”

“Yes.”  Wisdom moved within arm’s length of him her voice quiet and kind, “I believe you have for some time, dear one.”

He could not help the laugh that escaped him.  It had been many centuries since he had laughed so hard and suddenly.  The force of it causing tears to stream from his eyes.  He could not breath, his lungs gulped for air between the laughs but could not get enough.  It was all too much.

A hand touched his shoulder, “Hush, dearest.”

Her touch helped ground him once more, bringing him back to the room until he was able to quiet.  Once he had stopped his laughter he still felt a wetness rolling down his cheeks.  

When he spoke his voice was hoarse, “I have been given one of the greatest gifts the world can offer.  I have met my life-mate, the one that makes my spirit sing.”  He swallowed, “If I do not wish the gift destroyed, I must send it away.  Her away.”  He looked up to Wisdom, “How am I---”

The words were bitten back as the feeling of Emma’s fear shot through him, turning him inside out.  He stood so fast it made Wisdom jump back.  Emma’s emotions rolled through him in sickening waves combating with his own.  Wisdom looked at him, concern written on her brow, but she knew to wait.

He focused.  It was like wading through thick sludge but he had to find the core of it.  Where she was and what was causing this.  When he did his heart skipped again then his teeth ground together and he sneered, “Andruil.”

The rage was over taking everything else now, even Emma’s emotions.  There was a guttural growl from somewhere deep in his gut and all his muscles strained against his skin ready to tear the threat apart.  Before he could leave Wisdom reached out and touched him.  The slightest brush of fingers on his arm but it was like static.  In his rage he had lost some of his control over his power and he could not bring himself to care.

“Solas, wait a moment.”  He glared at Wisdom opening his mouth to state his protest to the suggestion but she continued, “She must be able to care for herself.  You know this.  If you are always going to her aide then she will never learn her own strength.”

The truth in her words managed to pierce the slightest hole in the heat that had taken him over.  It was enough to make him rethink his methods, but not enough to make him stop completely.  If it had been a mere demon, perhaps he would have left it for Emma, but this was Andruil and it could not stand.

“I am sorry, I must go.”

Without waiting for her response he left.  In a matter of seconds he found himself in Andruil’s prison.  There was no way she could hurt him, there were precautions taken and they were still in different states of sorts.  

There was also no way for him to truly kill her at this time.  A moment of regret at this came over him when he saw her laying on her couch in rest.  It would have been so easy to tear her head off her shoulders before she woke, to feel her blood hot as it sprayed, to know that she would never take another breath.  On the other hand, that would be far too quick for one like her.

He reached out to his rune more so he could feel Emma better, some of her fear had subsided and been replaced by confusion, as well as anger.  His love.  Of course, she wouldn’t let Andruil walk all over her.  Some day that might get her into more trouble than she could handle, but he hoped to have her gone long before that.

Emma certainly would not be hurt tonight.  He reached out with his magic feeling for the gaps in Andruil’s cage, gaps he had known of but been too busy to do much about so long as she didn’t misbehave.  She had most definitely misbehaved now.  

As he found the gaps he sealed them.  A part of his mind remained trained on Emma and her emotions.  She was safe so he took his time knowing that what he did would be painful to Andruil.  He wondered how long the woman could hold out before she came back.

It took longer than he had thought.  She must have been very determined in her task because there was little doubt she was in horrific pain at the moment.  This was probably the only time he did not mind the thought that he caused hurt to someone.  Even found some level of enjoyment in it, if he were honest.

When she did come he felt her the moment she entered but she feigned sleep for longer.  Once she did open her eyes they were heavy lidded, “Hello flea bag.  It’s been so long, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You know why I am here.”

She stood, slow and languid, there was little doubt of the beauty of her form.  They were all beautiful on the outside.  Her hands traced a line up her dress to the shoulders before she pulled the dress off letting it pool at her feet.  

It did nothing for him and she knew it, but she enjoyed the game.  Her hand traced lazy lines along her curves and her breasts as she watched him, “This perhaps.”

“You know I have never been interested in that from you, despite your best efforts to change that fact, I assure you it remains the same.”  It did not matter how perfect that body may be by most standards, she disgusted him.   

Her upper lip curled showing one pointed canine as a new dress formed on her, “Ah yes, you have a toy for that now don’t you?  Some tight little human cunt to satiate your thirst.  Does she know she takes the cock of a god inside of her?  Does it make her wild with lust?”

He had to work to keep his calm.  The rage her words caused was simmering right under the surface, begging to be released.  He did not want her to win.

“When I saw her today I can understand some.  She is rather delicious looking.  I think I would take a bite myself.  Such a tough little creature, I would imagine that breaking her would be very satisfying.  That her screams---”

No longer able to contain it the rage came and with it a burst of magic that filled the space.  It smothered Andruil causing her to double over and forcing the air from her lungs.  He could not kill her but he could hurt her more.

“You will not go near her.  You will not speak to her or of her.  You will not even think of her.  If you do I promise you I will make you suffer.  You will suffer until this prison seems like it was a sanctuary.  Then, when you are completely broken, I will rip your head from your shoulders.”

When she spoke the voice was breathless and she had to work to force her body straight again, “You were always such a sweet talker, wolf.  Be careful or I might not be able to contain myself.  The things you do to me.”  Her hand went down her stomach to cover her womanhood.

He growled, “Stay. Away.”

Her smile grew showing all her teeth and she removed her hand from herself as she walked away from him, “I promise wolf, I will not touch your plaything.  How could I even if I wanted to?  You’ve got me housed in such a beautiful bird cage I can’t leave.”

She was too calm, it was too easy, far too easy.  He focused now throwing his magic out to search the whole cage closing the remaining gaps as he went.  When he had finished she was lounging on her couch watching him through heavy lidded eyes.

“Are you quite finished?  I imagine that tired you out, you aren’t your full self after all.  You’re still weak.  I can taste it.”  With the last words she let her tongue come out to lick slowly along her upper lip.

His fingers clenched once, “Not as weak as you, huntress.”

Now that he was satisfied all the gaps had been sealed he used the last of his energy to go back to his Fade home.  The moment he was back he fell to his knees, Wisdom caught him as he went down and knelt with him.

His stomach was hard and there was a bitter taste in his mouth as he spoke, “I am so weak still, this is becoming infuriating.”

“Hush now.  You will regain yourself but you can not over do in the meantime.  These things take time, as you well know.”

His jaw clenched, “A luxury I have precious little of.”

“Solas—“

“I appreciate your efforts but you can not help this.”  He took a deep sigh and managed to sit back on the floor as she set on her legs in front of him, “I need to get her home, now more than ever, because of me she has caught the attention of Andruil.  If something happened to her…”  Another sigh and his hands were shaking again.  He clenched his fists, “I am a fool, I should end it with her, I should have never started it.”

“You are being a fool but not for the reasons you think.”  Her hand came out to rest on top of one of his fists and he met her eyes, “You love her.  It is precious and should not be wasted.  Stop fighting this thing that should be embraced.  Love her.  Teach her.  Be with her and stop hating yourself so much you can not let yourself do so.  It is bad for you and for her.”

“Her life is in danger because of me.  If I had not—“

“And would she be safer without you?  If you had chosen to avoid her, to not teach her, would she truly be better off now?”  

He opened his mouth, shut it, then after a beat said in a barely audible voice, “There are other mages.”

“But none are you.  None could understand as you do.  None would be able to help her as you do.  You know this.  Stop being so stubborn you old fool.”

Wisdom was right.  Of course she was right.  

“I need to fix it with her but I do not know how to start.”

“Saying a simple apology would go a long way, I imagine.”

“It is not so simple and I am not sure an apology would cover everything.  I am also…”  His shoulders tightened and he looked down releasing a shuddering breath, “I am afraid.  I do not know if I go further what will happen.  I am afraid that if I continue when I must let her go it will shatter me completely; I can not afford that, for the People I must remain strong.”

“And if she did not go?”

His eyes snapped up to Wisdom’s once more, “She must.”

“What if she does not wish to?”

He shook his head as though expelling the words from his mind, “She must.”

Wisdom sighed, “In the end it is her decision, you must accept that.”

“She knows she must.”  He lifted his chin,  “She will make the right decision.”

“I did not question if she would make the right decision, dearest one.”  Wisdom sighed and stood, “I am simply saying the right decision may end up being a different one than the one you foresee.”

She gave him her hand to help him up and he took it as he said, “If she stays she will die.  I must do what I must and she must do what she must.  We are both on a path we can not stray from.  There is too much at stake.”

She released his hand, “I should have thought you would have become less stubborn with age, not more.”

He frowned, “I am being realistic not stubborn.”

“If you say so.”  She smiled at him but he was not sure if he liked this particular smile.  It was one you would give to indulge a child, “I believe it is well past the sun rising in the waking world.  We should talk more tomorrow.”

“I do not believe I have anything further to say on this topic.”

“Very well.  We will talk more of other things tomorrow and I shall let this one go, for now.” She gave a wink which was uncharacteristic for her and threw him for a moment.

He frowned, “I do not recall you being so troublesome when last we communicated.”

She laughed, “Perhaps it is that you are more troublesome not I.”  

He grumbled, “Doubtful.”  Then he took two steps forward and pulled her into another hug, “Until next we meet.”

She hugged him back giving him a squeeze before she released him, “Until next we meet, dear one.”

When he woke he was more exhausted than when he had gone to sleep.  Mentally.  Emotionally.  Physically.  

He set up, feeling a headache that had formed and now pounded insistent behind his eyes.  He lacked any magical strength at the moment to do anything about it.  What little he did manage today would need to be saved in case of a fight.

This was all unfortunate as he had much to do and to think on today.  Not the least of which was how to approach Emma.

Wisdom’s words played back in his mind, “And if she did not go?”

If she did not go he would be with her longer.  If she did not go he could love her as she was meant to be loved.  Every day he would treasure her until she had no more life.  Then she would pass on and he would be alone; it would still not be enough.  Even if nothing happened.  Even if she lived to be a hundred, it would not be enough for him.  It would still break him when he lost her.

Therein was the truth of it.  It would end either by what he had to do for the People, by the full truth of him and what he had done, by her being killed, by her dying of old age, or by her going back to her home and living a full happy life.

In the end he would lose her, it was simply a matter of how.

[rhnuzlocke]

Episode 22

Scene 11:

[Ren and Steven are sitting at his coffee table with a whole pile of food in front of them and their pokemon around them when there is a knock at the door. Ren goes to get it while Steven stays where he is. Ren opens the door to find Zinnia standing there and her face floods with relief.]

Ren: You really did come. I was starting to worry.

Zinnia: Sorry about that. I had to say some goodbyes.

Ren: No problem.

[Aster pokes her head around Zinnia’s legs, ears cocked and listening.]

Zinnia: Are you sure you want me here?

Ren: Absolutely. Come inside. Dinner’s ready.

Zinnia: [stepping inside and taking off her shoes] What about Stone?

[Aster follows suit by wiping her paws on the mat.]

Ren: Uh, he’s not thrilled that I invited you, but he’ll deal.

Zinnia: Oh boy.

Ren: Please just give him a chance. He’s a real sweetheart, I swear.

Zinnia: Anything for you, spitfire.

[Ren smiles and leads Zinnia into the living room. Steven looks up at them from his seat on the floor as they come in, but says nothing. An awkward silence hangs in the air for a moment as Steven and Zinnia stare each other down. Ren opens her mouth to break it, but Zinnia beats her to it.]

Zinnia: Thanks for having me over.

Steven: Just try not to destroy anything while you're here.

Zinnia: You know, I think your rock collection might be a threat to another dimension. Are you sure I can’t clear it out?

[Steven bristles and Ren throws both of them a reproachful look. Zinnia forces her face back to neutral and sits down opposite Steven between Kata and the sandslashes. Aster climbs into her lap and Zinnia starts serving herself. Everyone eats in silence for a while and Kata seems to be the only one truly enjoying herself. Ren watches as Zinnia cuts things into smaller chunks for her whismur who then shovels the food off of Zinnia’s plate and into her mouth with her ears. It is all too reminiscent of a parent eating with their child and Ren’s stomach knots up. Zinnia does not use the utensils much for herself, preferring to stuff smaller items in whole a rip meat from the bone with her teeth. This only worsens after the first few minutes until she is tearing through the food in front of her. Steven grimaces at the lack of table manners and Ren looks rather concerned at the level of hunger on display. Zinnia does not look up, but can probably feel the other two watching her.]

Zinnia: [to Steven between mouthfuls] Did you make all this?

Steven: Yes, though you can also thank my carbink.

Zinnia: It’s really good. I didn’t expect a wealthy guy like you to cook.

[Steven’s eyes narrow and Ren jumps in before he can make some equally snide remark.]

Ren: It surprised me too. He’s a lot better than I am.

[The rest of the meal proceeds in much the same fashion with Ren trying to head off fights between the other two. She is grateful when they are finally finished and Zinnia displays that she wasn’t brought up in a barn by helping to clear everything away. Afterwards, most of the pokemon go outside and Ren plops down in the middle of the couch. Zinnia sits down so that she can slouch on the arm of the couch and Aster hops up and climbs back into Zinnia’s lap. The whismur settles down for a nap as Steven comes back in and Steven goes straight for his liquor cabinet.]

Steven: [forced politeness] Can I get you anything to drink?

Ren: Can we have the liquid sunshine again?

Zinnia: The what now?

Ren: It’s a mixed drink he makes.

Steven: Regrettably I’m out of champagne.

Zinnia: Got any prosecco? That might work.

Steven: They are both sparkling white wines, but I wouldn’t say they’re interchangeable.

Zinnia: Well I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess the other ingredient for this drink is a liquor, in which case pairing it with something a little less sweet might work better.

Steven: Very well, I’ll give it a go. Would you like one too?

Zinnia: You like it? [Ren nods] Sure, Stone, I’ll try some. I’ve always got some of the late Mr. Kagari's fine imported bourbon if that doesn’t work out.

[Steven rolls his eyes as he opens a bottle of wine behind them. He comes back with three glasses and hands them off. Ren takes a sip as Steven sits down by the other arm of the couch, as far away from Zinnia as possible.]

Ren: Holy shit this might be even better.

[Steven grunts.]

Zinnia: I usually go for prosecco anyway. It’s often better than champagne in my opinion.

Ren: Really? But champagne always costs so much more.

Zinnia: Sometimes, things that are more expensive, are worse.

[Steven pulls a face and Zinnia almost smirks in saticfaction. She and Ren talk for a bit, but Steven remains quiet over on his end of the couch. Eventually Zinnia grows tired suffering his silent ire.]

Zinnia: Alright Stony, enough with the polite brooding. If you have something on your mind, just let it out.

Steven: Why did you do it?

Zinnia: I already told you.

Steven: Not all portals lead to the Distortion World. There is documentation in Alola of another type of—

Zinnia: Which have not been “substantiated by science” as you put it. And even supposing they were, why is your assumption that they lead to some empty dimension? Who’s to say there isn’t yet another world on the other side?

Steven: Most of the universe is empty space! There’s no reason to—

Zinnia: Actually, if we’re basing our evidence for these portals on native accounts of them, there is plenty of reason to believe there is a populated world on the other side. And how about you don’t lecture me on portals, Mr. Bachelor’s-in-Geology? I’m a physicist and I did my dissertation on travel between our world and the Distortion World. I’m well aware of the current work on spacetime anomalies.

Steven: None of which proves the portal generated by the dimensional shifter would have led to the Distortion World.

Zinnia: To suggest that a slightly altered method based entirely on work that had previously only led to portals between our world and the Distortion World might suddenly lead to an entirely different location in space is ridiculous. And I could spend the whole night explaining to you the myriad reasons why that’s true, but won’t because I’m not here to convince you and I’m sure as shit not here to absolve you of whatever kernel of guilt has your undies in a twist. I’m here because Ren asked me to be. You can go right ahead and think I’m some kind of crackpot psychopath if that makes you feel better. I don’t care.

Steven: Good. Because I think I’m entitled to be just a little angry that you think you have the right to make decisions for the entire planet!

Ren: ENOUGH! [Both of them are cowed into silence.] We are not doing this right now! This could be our last night alive and I’m not spending it listening to you two bicker about shit that doesn’t even matter anymore!

[Steven and Zinnia look down as Ren glares at each in turn. A moment later, Ren’s nav rings and she looks down at it.]

Ren: I have to take this. [She gets up but turns to face them, looking stern.] But you two better be friends by the time I get back. You have plenty in common. Get to know each other a little!

[Ren stomps out of the room followed by the last few pokemon except for Aster who stays behind. Steven and Zinnia glance at each other.]

Zinnia: So…

Steven: So…

[Steven sighs and Zinnia scratches absently at her whismur’s ear.]

Zinnia: We’re not gonna disappoint her, are we?

Steven: Hell no.

Zinnia: So we do agree on something.

Steven: Yes, we do.

Zinnia: Right… So how’d you get into training?