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vanchlo · 4 years

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Green Eyes

*Thanks so much for reading! c: There are now several parts you can read here: 2 3 4

I’m so happy to share that I won a fiction writing award for this short story through my college’s art journal! c:

Blurb Synopsis: You had been subbing for Mr. Styles for the last couple of months, but you’ve yet to meet him. The notes you leave for each other have sparked a friendship, leading you to want more, and you wonder if he does too.

Genre: Teacher Harry, lots of fluff, friendship, and maybe even some romance? ;)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 5.5k words

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: Green Eyes by Coldplay (click to listen)

His shelves were full of F. Scott Fitzgerald, Rumi, and Charles Bukowski. His desk was covered in scribbled Post-It notes, Bit-O-Honey wrappers, and empty mugs of tea.

This is what you noticed the first few times you subbed in his classroom.

These were the only details you knew about the man whose face you’ve never seen. As you gradually began to substitute for his high school English classes more and more, you learned about him more. This was due to his students, and his personal belongings.

What he didn’t and didn’t like: all the way from no fringes on a notebook paper, no red pen ever because that was his grading color, no using the word ‘can’t’ in his class, and students can eat all the snacks they want as long as the trash goes in the bin where it belongs.

The CDs in a stack on the shelf told you which ones he actually listened to because they were the ones that were on top and without dust.

You learned that the pristine book on his desk was never the one he was reading. No, it was the weathered and used copy beside his mug with dog-eared pages and penciled notes.

His drawers told you another story with their contents: boxes of teas ranging from peach to vanilla macaron, journals filled to the brim with words, adult coloring books with tv show themes, and books on Van Gogh and Monet hinting at his artsy background. His students slowly warmed up to you, and through them, so did he.

At this point, you’d only been subbing for Mr. Styles the last five months, racking up around two and a half weeks worth of subbed days. He always left precise and concise lesson plans for you. The books were where he said they’d be. The webpages he mentioned were bookmarked on his desktop. The teacher copy of the textbook and current group book were on his desk. At the beginning, his desk looked like a professional organizer had gotten their hands on it. Slowly, as you came to sub more for him, it grew messier, albeit you kept it tidy during your appearances. As the first few months passed and you became one of the few subs in his room, you started to find notes. They weren’t just any notes. They were more than the straight forward sub notes for the day’s agenda. No, they weren’t that simple. You can still remember the first one you found on a Post-It note - it went like this:

Y/N, peanut butter on your waffles or syrup?

It took you by surprise, but nonetheless, you answered his call. Each time, you’d find a contrasting pen color and scrawl your answer underneath his. Then leaving it somewhere he would find it the next day. They were one-liners at the beginning, and always interesting. Walking to his classroom from your car on those mornings, you’d fill with excitement at the anticipation of finding the next one. Sometimes it took you the entire day to find where he had hidden them.

In the closet.

In a nook in a drawer.

Under the chair.

On the backside of one of his books.

Hidden in plain sight amongst his current choice of notes and lists.

They never failed to spark a smile on your lips, whether it was quirky, confused, astounded or humored.

Guitar or piano?

FRIENDS or The Simpsons?

Vanilla or Chocolate?

Would you rather become a superhero or a wizard?

The Beatles or the Rolling Stones?

Slowly, the questions became more personal, and more than just ‘this or that.’ His questions became longer, and so did your answers.

What was the moment that made you decide to become a teacher?

Is Donny a good student for you, or is he lying to me about that?

What color are your eyes?

What book/film do you believe had the largest impact on you while growing up?

What is the one meal you always order at a restaurant?

Do you have a family?

Should I splurge and buy a new desk chair?

What book should I buy for my classroom you think I need to have? Why?

Why don’t you have a classroom of your own?

When is your birthday?

Star Wars or Lord of the Rings?

They were never a chore for you, or tedious. No, they were fun and you felt as if you saw a little sliver of who he really was with each note. After a while, you started to write and leave your own notes for him to answer. At first, many of them were similar to ones he had left you, because you wanted to hear his responses, too.

The newest one stares back at you, his half-cursive registering in your eyes.

What’s your favorite part about subbing in my classroom? Don’t say the students, that’s what everybody says.

Giggling to yourself, you reach over to his Pink Floyd mug to pull out a green pen. You take a moment to think of your answer. This time you found the note peeking out from behind the smart whiteboard. The sounds of the end of a school day tickle at your ears as you scribble down your answer. Pressing it to an open square of wood on his desk, you turn back to the royal blue pad of Post-Its. Peeling one off, the green pen hovers over the paper, but you can’t get yourself to write the question you’ve been wanting to know all along.

He didn’t have a Facebook, or an Instagram.

The high school doesn’t have a wall of staff pictures like others you’ve subbed at do.

It’s late winter, so yearbooks are still a ways off.

For all you know, you could have seen him here before in the halls when you subbed in another classroom.

Exhaling, you press the pen to the paper before you can convince yourself to stop. Unlike the many times before when your fears got the best of you.

What do you look like?

With a proud but nervous smile you stick it to the desk, layering the first note on top. It sticks to your lips as you bend down to reach your hand into your bag. The glossy bag greets your hand, and you pull it out to set down beside the note.

A small bag of Bit-O-Honeys.

Looking up, your eyes scan the empty classroom. Few footsteps, voices, and lockers slamming trickle in from the halls. You suddenly realize that this is the same view he sees, these are the same sounds he hears, and the same place he sits in every day. Well, when he’s not away on personal days, sick days, on holiday, and at workshops, hence your appearances. The thought knits something together inside of you, making you feel just that bit more closer to him. Something that’s been slowly happening over time since you first stepped foot in his classroom.

One of the first things that did this was the posters scattered across his walls. A poster from the 2013 remake of The Great Gatsby, The Beatles’ Abbey Road album cover, a cartoon of William Shakespeare, a unifying print of Keith Haring’s art, and several posters of quotes from famous books - To Kill A Mockingbird, the Kite Runner, Of Mice and Men, The Life of Pi, and even The Hunger Games. It delighted you watching him add some of them to the walls since your time here, and you’ve been itching to purchase him one as a gift. You’re unsure of what he would like though, and the fear of failure has held you back from doing so.

A bleep! catches your attention. Casting your eyes to the dormant desktop screen, you wiggle the mouse. A red circle has appeared on the title of a tab opened to your professional email. Clicking over to it from a YouTube video he had you show the class, you find you have a new message. At the sight of who sent it, your heart skips a beat: harry.styles@isd . . . . . . .

Hi. I reckon you’re still sitting at my desk this moment, now that’s a funny thought. I wanted to ask you a question while I remembered. I have to go out of town on Friday for a funeral. Believe me, I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to, but these things are a must. I apologize for it being short notice, but I thought I’d ask you if you would like to take it before I posted it to the sub database. Please let me know either way by tonight, so it has a few days to sit on the website to be claimed. Also, I wanted to say thanks for everything you do. My students really love you, and it makes me wonder what I’m missing. Enjoy your night!

Sincerely,

Harry Styles

“Keep your face always toward the sunshine - and shadows will fall behind you. - WW”

A smile warms your cheeks as you finish reading his words, and the familiar poem that ends every email of his. You quickly type up a response to him, agreeing to take the job on Friday, thanking him for thinking of you. A new email appears in your inbox shortly after from another colleague, which occupies you before you lose yourself in your thoughts again.

Perhaps your favorite addition in his classroom is the Fender acoustic sitting on a stand in the corner. Of course, you’ve yet to see it move in the last five months. The stories his students have told you in a way have given it legs of its own in your mind. Much like the little notes you’ve been leaving for each other, something you dread ever ending.

It was a Wednesday. You’re convinced that Mrs. Watson’s Pre-Calc class is surely the bane of your existence. You keep cursing yourself for taking sub assignments for math classes. Seeing that you’re terrible at the subject, you vowed you’d never take one of her assignments again, but you have to pay the bills somehow. You found your respite in the cozy staff lounge. Couches lined two of the walls, along with an arrangement of tables on the other side of the room.

As you walk in, you see that one of the ancient history teachers has nodded off again on the plaid couch. Otherwise, the room is empty, and all to yourself. If that didn’t make you happy before, the assortment of food on the counter definitely does.

Voices float in through the open door as the plastic lid to the cupcakes opens with a pop!

“Ah, looks like ya got tha last chocolate one. I was savin’ that one fer me,” a voice comments from behind you. Turning, you find a tall man in his late 20’s walking towards you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you can have it,” you volunteer, holding the blue-iced cupcake out for his taking.

His blush lips curl up with an amused smile. Dimples fall neatly into his cheeks covered with thick stubble. Its deep brown color matches that of the short quiffed curls atop his head. Misty green eyes stare back at you in the middle of his round, but sharp face. “‘m only joking. Go ahead and have it. I already had one earlier. They’re quite good actually, but I dunno ‘bout tha vanilla. Never really cared fer tha flavoir when it comes t’ cake and ice cream,” he comments, passing you to stop at the nearby sink.

“Yeah, I like to forget vanilla exists half of the time,” you remark, peeling away the paper liner of the cupcake.

Leaning against the counter, you watch as his ringed hand grabs a red coffee mug from the cabinet. “So do I. ‘s ratha boring, if I do say so meself.”

Nodding to yourself, a silence follows your words. The sweetness of the cupcake is shocking when you take a bite. It makes you wonder how you devoured these sugar bombs as a child. A few beeps and a hum from the microwave echo throughout the room as you check your phone.

“Y’know, I haven’t seen ya here at tha school befo’. Are ya new dis year or a sub?” he asks, bringing your eyes back to his lean figure. He pulls a yellow square packet from his tight-fitting black slats, a blush button-down tucked into its waist.

“I started subbing here this year,” you answer before taking another bite of the cupcake. Half of it consists of the sickeningly sweet frosting that makes your teeth ache.

“Mmmm I see. How d’ya like it so far? Are ya a new teacher, ‘s that why yer subbin’?”

“Yeah, I went back to school kinda late in the game after doing something else. I figure I’d sub for a little bit for some experience, because what’s another year of waiting by this time?” you comment, observing how he fiddles with his black tie while searching in the refrigerator.

“Well, congratulations. ‘s a big step t’ go back t’ school fer sumthin’ ya love. ‘s a good profession, I reckon. I’ve been teaching fer 7 years, and here at dis school fer 5. Sumtimes schools even hire subs they’ve had when a position opens, so keep yer eyes open,” he tells you, turning to you with a smile, a yogurt in his hand.

“Thank you,” you say sincerely, returning the smile. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“Sure thing. I know it helped loads when I was a newbie. ‘ll see ya around, I gotta get back t’ class befo’ me students do first. Have a good one!”

Walking towards you with the steaming cup of tea in his hands, he pats your arm with his other hand on the way out. Nodding at your ‘thank you’, a small ‘you’re welcome’ falls from his lips before the door closes behind him. Eating the last bite you can muster of the cupcake, you toss its remains in the bin. A thought worms its way into your mind as you sit down at the table.

Wow, I wonder who that guy was? And is he married, because shit, he was handsome.

The smell of orange essential oil greets you when you stepped foot into his classroom the next time. The state of his desk made you frown, and made you want to scratch the itch to clean it. You resisted it and didn’t, and that thought was taken away when his students began to find their desks.

Another day of 7 classes came and went. 2 classes of Introduction to Creative Writing. 3 classes of American Literature. 2 classes of World Literature. Amusing YouTube videos broke up the monotony of your day, and those of his students. The lesson notes he left for you had become more concise as the months have passed, and as you learned from each other. The same couldn’t be said for the dish of Bit-O-Honeys on his desk that he’s kept stocked for your appearances. You’re just glad he’s put the bag you left for him to good use. All throughout your day you had been looking for his newest note, but this time it wasn’t in any of his usual spots. After correcting some quizzes from today, you finally found it in the bottom left-hand drawer of his mahogany desk. Stuck to a tall can of Coke, your favorite drink of choice.

I’m sorry it’s warm, although I’m not sure how you like to drink it. I just find warm soda to be rather nasty. The answer to your question is I have green eyes, brown hair, I’m rather tall, and I like to dress up. Is that good enough for you? Now, what do you look like, love?

Your insides melt at the sight of his answer, but then you groan at the vagueness of it. Off the top of your head, you know there are at least 10 male teachers here at this school with brown hair, maybe more. Maybe even with green eyes, too, and you know that because you’ve seen them in the staff lounge or in the halls. The thought only grows worse when you lose count of how many teachers there are here at this school. Let’s just say, there’s a lot. Yeah, that sure helps a whole lot. Annoyed, you pluck a pen from the green mug and answer his question with as little detail as possible. Two can play at this game, you think to yourself as you sigh.

If you could have a jam session with any musician, dead or alive, who would it be?

Sticking the new note where its corner peeks out from under his tabletop calendar, your eyes return to the Coke. It’s undeniable, you feel a little less perturbed at him just at the sight of it. Only a little bit, that is. Sure, you’ve subbed for a countless number of teachers at this school, and more so in this school district. A few of them are even friends or relatives of yours, but you’d never connected with one before like you have with Harry. You just wish more than anything you could find out what he looks like and what he’s really like. Continuing to take his sub jobs doesn’t really help with that. It only drives you crazier wanting to know the other side of this fascinating human being.

There he was, snoring on the couch again, tv remote in hand. The weather channel is playing, surprising you very little. Snickering, you yank open the door to the black refrigerator. After retrieving your striped black and blue lunchbox, you place the container of leftovers in the microwave. A laugh is heard over your shoulder, and when you turn, you find Green Eyes from the other day.

Tittering as the door closes behind him, he says, “No fail, John ‘s always passed out on dat couch, I swear.”

“I know, it’s every time I’m here. Maybe he should just retire already so he can take his naps at home. Then maybe we could watch something on the tv for once,” you comment, shaking your head. Unpacking your lunch box, you take out a clementine, vanilla yogurt, and silverware.

“Nah, he loves it too much. I don’t see him leavin’ anytime soon,” he remarks, walking past you to search the shelves of the fridge. “What’re we having’ t’day? Couldn’t find any cupcakes dis time?”

“No, those ones were too sweet anyways. They gave me a stomachache,” you complain with a grimace. The beeeeep! of the microwave interrupts your thoughts.

“Mmmm, I dunno, I thought they were pretty good.” Rubbing his tummy, he pulls a breathy laugh from your lips.

Your steaming container of leftovers almost burns your hands, and you dread trying to eat it within the next 10 minutes. Setting up for a lesson in Mr. Harrison’s classroom was a pain, making you wonder why you take any sub jobs besides Harry’s anymore.

“No free food fer us t’day,” he pouts beside you, closing the fridge door before venturing to the vending machine in the corner. Your eyes drift to his outfit choice today - a white button-down topped with a buttoned vest the shade of ochre, all tucked into brown slacks.

“That’s why you pack a lunch. I thought you’d know the drill by now, since you said you’ve been teaching for a while.”

“I do, but sumtimes I forget. Yer already ahead o’ me with dat part, love,” he who doesn’t have a name answers with a short laugh. Sliding a leather wallet from his pocket, you see him type in a number before you sit down at the table. “Who are ya subbin’ fer t’day then?”

“I’m on the west side in the Science wing for Harrison. Bloody Bio.”

“Ugh, I neva cared fer science. Where were ya a few weeks ago when I last saw ya?” he questions, sliding out a chair across from you. An assortment of vending machine food hits the table with a slap - peanut M&M’s, a nutrigrain bar, and a bag of Sun Chips.

“Upstairs in Watson’s Maths class. Remind me to never sub for her again, because I can’t understand Pre-Calc for the life of me. I never could in high school so I don’t know why I thought I could know,” you chuckle. A warmth fills your cheeks at the sight of his lips spreading into an amused smile.

“Yeah, I neva cared fer Maths meself eitha. Numbas neva made a bit o’ sense t’ me, words were always betta,” he explains. You nod along with his words, your mouth occupied with a bite of spaghetti and meatballs. “What subject would ya like t’ teach once tha year’s ova an’ ya go searchin’ fer a job o’ yer own?”

“Um, probably something in English since that’s my focus area. Dabbling in History has been fun, though. I enjoy learning about it myself, and I always have a better time subbing in either of those classes,” you reveal.

“I see,” he replies, his head going up and down. The crinkling of the granola bar wrapper fills the silence between you before he takes a bite. Crumbs pepper his chin, but he wipes them away from his thin beard. “How often d’ya sub here then?”

“I’d say probably 3 days a week typically, but some weeks are 4. Otherwise, I sometimes sub for a friend or somebody I know over at the middle school.”

“Ah, so yer license is sumthin’ like 8 - 12, ‘s it?” he inquires, picking up the black mug you hadn’t noticed he had.

“Yeah, I thought that would give me a good range for those grades. With my experience now, I think I’d like to stay at the high school level though,” you continue, twirling you fork around in the noodles covered in tomato sauce. Crossing your legs, the satiny fabric of your black dress pants moves with you.

“We could always use anotha good teacher here. Ya neva know what’ll happen,” he smiles, standing to his feet with his snacks held in his large hand. Returning his smile, he adds his mug to that hand, patting your back once on his way out. “See ya next time, love. Keep yer head up, it’ll get betta.”

“Thanks,” you automatically respond with. When you go to say his name, you’re lost for words, because you suddenly remember you’ve never gotten it. Now, he’s already too far away to ask for it.

Shrugging your shoulders, you stab a meatball with your fork, wondering when the next time will be that you’ll see him again. Because, he sure is nice to look at, and he’s nicer to you than anybody else here.

Stevie Nicks or John Lennon, it’s a tough call. Okay, I’m doing two questions from now on, because you ask such good ones :( Who would you jam with then? Question #2: What was the last concert you went to?

This time, you found the Post-It before the school day even started. It was on the seat of his chair, making you think he wanted you to find it right away. You’re thinking maybe he remembered one of the last times you complained about how hard he had made it. Sometimes you worry about how excited you get to look for these each time you sub in his classroom, but then you remember it’s only once every few weeks.

That can’t hurt, can it?

That day the hallways were louder than they usually were after school. You attributed that to the boys’ semifinals basketball game set to be played tonight in the gymnasium. The school’s home team against a nearby rival school. Students couldn’t stop talking about it all day, and many of them shared they’d be sticking around after school to attend. Checking your watch, you note that you should have enough time to stop at home to eat dinner before coming back for it. Even though you hadn’t even known about it before today.

The Sufjan Stevens song floating from his desktop fills the room as you get out books for tomorrow. Your hands are full with copies of The Kite Runner, making you feel grateful again to Harry- Mr. Styles for picking a decent classic for the class to read. Although you’d only read it a few years ago yourself, and it broke your heart, you’re excited to sub next time to help his World Lit class with it.

“Oh hey, be careful there, yer gonna slip and fall with all o’ those,” somebody says from behind you, distracting you from your mission of bringing the pile of books from the closet to a desk.

Don’t I know that voice? Turning your eyes to the doorway, you find Green Eyes walk in with a coat slung over his arm. Wait a second.

“I-I’m fine,” you stutter, but your actions that follow negate your words. Your eyes run over his familiar features, and slowly the puzzle pieces start to click in your head. Harry? A thought bomb explodes in your head, and the books tumble from your arms. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Yer okay,” he murmurs, stopping in front of you. Kneeling down, you both begin to pick up the books, stacking them on top of each other. “Thanks for gettin’ me set up fer t’morrow though. I appreciate it.”

“Mmmhmm,” is all you can say, because any words that want to come out can’t get past the lump in your throat. One that’s there because of the realization you just had.

Green Eyes and Harry are the same person.

How did I not figure this out sooner?

“So, ya must be Y/N, huh?” he giggles, his head bent down as he helps you pick up the books.

“Y-Yeah, surprise,” you admit, and your laugh soon joins his. Before you know it, the both of you can’t stop laughing.

“Here,” you hear him say. Looking up, you find him standing in front of you holding his hand out for you to take. A cozy looking maroon sweater covers his upper half, and blue jeans don the rest. “Fancy meetin’ you here,” he jokes in between laughs.

“You’re right about that,” you answer, taking his hand. He helps you to your feet where you smooth down the violet skirt of your dress. “I can’t believe I didn’t connect the dots.”

“Yer not tha only one, love,” Harry comments, bending over to grab a stack of books. He begins to set one on each desk as he walks down the aisles of them. “But I s’pose there wasn’t any way t’ know.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t find you on Facebook,” you confess, cursing yourself for the slip up a few seconds later. Lifting your head from the book you just set on a desk, you find his amused eyes on you across the room.

“Ah, so ya were stalkin’ me, were ya?” he smirks, his delightful laugh following his words.

“No, I wasn’t! You’re just one of the only colleagues I’ve subbed for who I’ve never met, or like don’t know what they look like.”

Your small stack soon disappears and when you return to the pile at the back of the room, he does too.

“So, what d’ya think? Are ya disappointed then?”

“No,” you say automatically, lifting your eyes to his green ones that land on you. His cheeks lined with a thick, neat beard crease with dimples as he smiles at you.

“Neither am I . . . . Ms. Vance Joy fan,” he returns, holding your gaze. The sincerity in his words gets under your skin, going straight to your heart. The sarcastic joke inside of them makes you giggle.

Clearing your throat, you look away with what you’re sure are blushing cheeks. Most likely, an entire blushing face. “What are you doing here, anyways, if you were gone for the day?”

“I can’t miss me boys’ big game, a few o’ me students are on tha team. I thought I’d catch up on sum emails and grading befo’hand, but didn’t know ya’d still be here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just leaving, anyways,” you mutter, your movements stilling.

“I didn’t mean it dat way, love. ‘m glad we finally met, it was about time, anyways,” Harry insists, and you nod before continuing to place a book at each desk. “Hey wait, you said you were short and all plain in yer note. No, yer not, ya fibber.”

“Oh like your description was any more accurate,” you scoff lightheartedly, setting down a book before grabbing another from your dwindling stack.

His rich laugh meets your ears, and you can’t resist looking over to him. “Ya didn’t give yerself enough credit, ya know,” he almost coos, and you swear your heart melted into a puddle right then and there. That’s if it hadn’t done so already when you realized he’s Green Eyes. Swoon.

It’s hard to hold back the excitement curling at the edge of your lips. Soon, you run out of books again and when you take a peek at him, so has he.

“Were ya gonna go?” he questions, and you deal him one when you look at him confused. “T’ tha game, I mean.”

Your body feels like jello, and that any move you make would be sloppy. Embarrassing. That’s the last thing you want to look like in front of him. With his dazzling smile, adorably dimpled cheeks, and the cozy vibes he’s giving off. Not to mention, the clean citrus scent wafting off of him. A smell you certainly would be okay with smelling for hours on end. If only.

“Well bloody Rob around tha corner bailed on me, so I have an extra ticket now. Would ya like t’ join me? I was thinkin’ o’ grabbin’ a sub from ‘round tha corner befo’. Concession food ‘s always too expensive, and never worth tha lines at halftime,” Harry suggests, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. One corner of his mouth climbs up his cheek, making you feel like maybe you’re not alone in these jumbled feelings. Or in the fun you’ve had carrying on this blind relationship with him.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun. Maybe we could get to know each other a little better than the few words Post-It notes can hold.”

Slowly, the other corner of his lips curls upwards, making the dimple fall into his cheek once again. Nodding, his lips split into a full-fledged smile, singing with a chuckle. “I’d really like that,” he reveals before venturing to the door and shutting off the light. Extending an arm, he waves a hand towards himself.

“Hold on, let me get my things.”

“No rush. ’s not like ‘ve waited seven months fer dis or anythin’,” he quips. By now, you’re certain your face resembles a tomato. You hope that in the muted light, perhaps he won’t notice.

Hurriedly, you slip on your light coat and drape your bag over your shoulder. Your eyes catch something as you’re tucking your phone in your pocket. Grabbing one last thing, you turn to find him watching you from the lit doorway.

“What?” he wonders aloud, still with that smile etched onto his face. One you’re fairly sure you could get used to seeing.

“Here,” you tell him, placing the Post-It note in his palm. His fingers dotted with dark hairs brush against you, just for a second longer than need be.

“Ah, can’t forget dis now. Important stuff here.”

“Indeed,” you note, stifling a laugh as the sarcasm floats in the air.

You observe his eyes flit across the paper holding your cursive as your steps echo down the empty hallway.

“Hmmm, funny. It says ‘would you like to meet up sometime’ on here,” Harry reads, casting his twinkling eyes to you. Green eyes. “I was jus’ ‘bout t’ ask ya tha same thing on me next note. But I had sumthin’ that woulda took tha cake fer sure.”

“What’s that?” you remark, wondering how that could be. Those thoughts fly out the window when you feel his arm come around your shoulder. A squeal sounds inside of your head, but hey, at least that’s far less embarrassing than doing it out loud.

“I was gonna tell ya dat Tracy across tha hall from me ‘s leavin’ afta dis year, and I may have recommended a certain sumbody t’ tha principal t’ replace her,” Harry hums, a knowing glint dancing in his eyes as they hover over you. “What d’ya say t’ bein’ colleagues instead o’ bein’ me sub?”

“I think I could get used to that,” you answer, letting your smile take over your entire face.

“So could I, love. So could I.”

455 notes · View notes

ask-hunterxhunter · 4 years

Note

Have you ever wonder what each of the main four would be like as yandere? Sorry, I’m just soo curious.😋

Gon

No onethat has met Gon would ever think he can become a yandere… Him? A yandere?Impossible. He’s such a dear person and has a certain innocence that appears tohave remained even when he got older. Besides, he has morals. Certainly this alsoprevents him from developing this sort of sick obsession as well, right? And ifhe ever did, he would realize this issue and seek a way of healthy dealing withit, right?

Wrong in all accounts.

Regardlessof how you two met (if he approached you after a brief meeting and wanted tobecome your friend, you just crossed paths, so on) or for how long you’ve beenfriends, you feel you can trust him with all your heart. It’s not so different fromhow it tends to be with other people Gon has befriended. After all, he is akind man, he is gentle and sweet. Heck, even if you didn’t want to befriend himwhen you two met, he has that special way of getting in someone’s heart. In theend, you’re glad you’re friends!

And becauseof this, chances are you won’t realize what is going on until it is too late.

Gon’sfeelings for you will start innocently enough and even he might notnotice them at first. He just knows that he enjoys being with you! You’re niceand fun! Yes, of course, he likes you, I mean, you’re friends… So, it’s alsonatural that he starts to feel bad when you’re not there… It’s natural that heworries… He… He needs you. Of course he doesn’t like the way that personlooked at you, it was outright staring! There are many dangerous peoplein the world, he knows, he met quite a few. He is just being a good friend and lookingout for you! There is nothing wrong with that…

He justdoesn’t want to fail with you like once failed with Kite.

Gon’sbehaviour starts to change in response to his feelings increasing… It is slow,it is insidious, but a few signals start to pile up. The way he places his arm aroundyour shoulders. The way he stares at people who are a little too friendly withyou. It doesn’t get to the point of being suffocating, but there is somethingthat just feels wrong about his presence… And you don’t want to considerthis, even feeling ashamed of such impressions. For crying out loud, this is Gon!Your friend! You shouldn’t feel like this about him, ever!

Actually,yes. Yes, you should.

His feelingsbecome so intense that he can’t be unaware of them forever (not that itwould’ve been of much help anyway). He may just see you laughing with someoneelse… And then he thinks how you could get involved with someone someday. How youcan leave him someday. And the mere thought is more than he can bear.

And theidea of losing you in one way leads to another. Regardless of what happened afterwards,Gon never forgot when he failed to help Kite. And it was one of those things aperson may never fully get over. No matter in what way, the idea of losing youincites more than mere fear in him. He… He can’t take it… No. No. NO!You can’t leave him, you just can’t!

Speakingof Kite, if you get hurt, this will likely be also the moment when he goes overthe edge (if he hasn’t already).

If you’realready together, that’s when things go overboard. If he hasn’t realized hisfeelings yet, that’s the moment when it hits him: This must be love, right? Thedesire to be with you all times, to protect you from all harm and to be theonly one to see your smile… Isn’t this what people call love? The moment thethought crosses his mind, he realizes that this is what he is feeling. And you…You must love him as well, right? You’ve spent so many good times together, surelyyou love him. And if you don’t, you can. Someday.

How Gondecides to deal with this depends on how things are between the two of you atthe moment. He may just go ahead and confess, or he may jump straight to the next“solution” (extreme likely to happen if you got injured somehow, which, in theworld of Hunter is easy to happen). Even your reaction to his confession is, inthe end, unimportant. You accepting Gon and starting to date him, no matter evenwhen, won’t soothe his obsession or make things easier. The only thing itwill do will be giving you a window to his actual mental state. The uncertaintyyou felt before was your instinct reacting and if you date Gon, his obsessionwill slowly become more obvious until it finally reaches a crucial point.

He won’t everbe violent, but there will always be something in the sweetness of his voice.In how “protective” he acts… He doesn’t outright forbid you from seeing yourold friends, but he seems to prefer to be there when you meet them… He neverseems to ask for more than you’re willing to do/give, he is never abusive, but…There is still something that makes you unsure. Things being said underneaththe spoken words and done underneath the acts. It’s almost imperceptible and whileit can last, eventually, you can’t fool yourself by saying this is normal.Or that you’re completely comfortable in this relationship.

And by thistime, it is too late.

It has always been too late, ever since Gon fell in love with you.

His senseof protection regarding those he cares about is very high and, while this tendsto be a great thing in a friend, it is another matter when obsession is addedto the mix. Because he wants to keep you safe… And with him. It’s a dangerousworld, after all.

So, if hehas to throw you in a cage to keep you safe, well, so be it.

Well, ofcourse it won’t be a cage. That would be too cruel! He has a nice little house,all prepared, just for you. Why he is doing this? Silly, because he loves you.And you don’t have to cry, he will take good care of you, he promises! He cangive you anything you want, so you won’t ever wish for anything! Food, clothes.He’ll even give you books and games, so you won’t be bored when he is not athome! See, he can make you happy! And keep you safe! All you have to do is staywith him.

Everygood quality can become a negative if twisted enough and this is the case withGon. Everything about him becomes a nightmare: His innocence blinds himto how what he is doing is messed up. His protectiveness becomes a cage beyondthe house he put you in. His sweetness is poisonous.

And oneof the worst things of all? Gon won’t ever realize that he’s become a monster.

Killua

WhileKillua is a tsundere and might prefer to have a certain degree of control overhis emotions, it doesn’t mean they are lacking in intensity. But still, (andhis training to be a “perfect assassin” might come in play here as well), hewill be able to keep his feelings hidden for a while, even though he will becomeaware of them very early on. And while there is nothing wrong with an intenselove, it is a serious problem when it crosses the line.

He willprobably already know you for a while before a deeper interest is born (maybehe met you while travelling with Gon, maybe you crossed paths somewhere andbecame friends, etc). Whether or not he will confess right away will depend on certaincircumstances: It might happen if you’re travelling together (or at least seeingeach other often), if his emotions take a longer time to become more disturbing,so on. You might even notice it (or at least in some level) soon if you’re perceptiveenough. The way he blushes, the way he compliments you and tries to act as ifit’s nothing…

His love is likely to start pure and perhaps might even remain genuine as hedescents into yandere-ism (which can be a rare occurrence when dealing with yanderes),but this doesn’t imply control over the darker impulses… Oh, he may tryat first, remind himself of his own family and how those thoughts are not healthy…

Thingswill seem normal for a while, regardless if you become a couple or not. It’sfun to be with him, he is a nice guy… But meanwhile, Killua’s natural feelings ofcare and protectiveness are slowly gaining more obsessive undertones. Heworries about you being hurt. About Illumi finding out about you (whateverhappens then, he doubts it would be good). About his parents using you… And whilenormally Killua would indeed worry about such things, the problem hereis, again, his state of mind.

The problemhere is the darkness consuming his heart.

Thoughtsof (over) protectiveness return, along with others that are quite dark. As hisfeelings cross the lines towards obsession, his mind somehow follows. Many ofthose impulses will soon appear to be fairly logical and, as unpleasant as theycan be, a necessary evil in order to keep you safe. And with him.

Becausein the end, that’s all that matters to Killua. And while a part of him mightrealize how unhealthy this is, he won’t be able to fight it, even if he tries.

Once hereaches a certain point, nothing else matters. Whether you’re in a relationshipor not (with him or not), whether you notice the small signals ofobsession in his behaviour (like with Gon, you might feel bad for thinking heis becoming unsettling or even be hesitant to draw a line), there is little tobe done. In the end, if you don’t find some excuse to go away for a long, longtime (and if this might not work since Killua would have no issue with followingyou – once he falls in love, he falls hard), you’re all but already caged.

He willfind a way to keep you with him. If he has to threaten your family, so be it.If he has to destroy your previous life, so be it. If he has to place a goddamncollar around your neck, so be it. On this point, let it be noted that Killuawon’t need a house to keep you in, preferring to… “Persuade” you to travel withhim and Alluka. It will be easy to “convince” you with some veiled threats towardsyour family or anyone you care about. It’s not something he likes to do, but ifit means keeping you with him… Once you realize you two are meant for eachother, it will be alright.

If you’re hoping this means you’ll have a chance of escaping someday, you’re mistaken. Thereis a reason why Killua was picked to be the Zolcyk heir instead of Illumi and,in certain areas, he is as good as his brother. He has means of keeping youwith him, without needing to resort to a physical chain (though he won’t beagainst it, should you prove it necessary). Even when you think you have a chance,he will be there. His reactions may vary from treating your attempt like agame, as if you’re just some adorable little kitty, to being upset or evenangered. He loves you. He is just doing what is best for you.

You maycry. You may beg. You may point out how he’s hurting you and how this can’t becalled “love” anymore… But by this time, Killua will believe that you’re justnervous and doesn’t know any better. It isn’t just a matter of keeping yousafe: He knows everything about you, what you like, what you hate. He understandsyou better than anyone else, you are perfect for each other and he won’t letanyone hurt you.

He justwishes you would understand this…

But you will.You will have time… And he will do whatever he can in order to keep you safefrom anyone, including yourself. Even if you cry now, there will come a daywhen you’ll understand and realize how much he loves you. And that you actuallylove him as well. He knows you do.

Those arethings Killua will be telling himself a lot. Even in the chance a part of himstill recognizes he is being cruel to you, he won’t be able to stop himself anymore,his feelings far too strong for him to fight against.

It seemsthat he is more of a Zoldyck that he ever wished to be…

Kurapika

Among the“main four”, Kurapika is easily one of the best when it comes down to keep hisfeelings hidden, for the most part. As such, if you don’t spend a long timewith him or aren’t incredibly perceptive, you might not notice when he startsto fall in love with you. Sadly, this also means you might have trouble seeinghim becoming a yandere towards you, while with some other characters, there mightbe at least some subtle signs…

BecauseKurapika takes time allowing people to get close to him, the development of hisinterest and eventual change into yandere might take a while and you might not evenknow that he is in love with you when he takes some drastic action tokeep you with him. Even being already together will do little to prevent hislove from crossing a line (the most it will do will buy you a little extratime), but once it does, you’re in serious trouble.

One ofthe “main roots” of this development (if we can use such terms) is in his desire to protect you and his trauma of losing his clan. He knows you can takecare of yourself, but the fear of seeing you hurt is still present (like withmost yanderes, seeing you seriously hurt might be what sets him off) and while,in any other scenario, he would find a way to deal with it healthily, this isn’tthe case here.

In hismind, he needs to keep you safe, no matter what. He can’t bear to lose someonehe cares about again, let alone someone he loves.

Asmentioned, you might not even know he was even in love with you until he callsyou over and confesses… Or better saying it, reveals how obsessed he is. And ifyou’re dating him already, what you’ll see when he “decides to take better careof you” is how twisted he can be. In a way or another, there is nothing you cando at this point. You just need to look in his eyes to know it… Even if you trybegging or fighting, Kurapika will merely look upset for a moment before makingsure you understand you won’t be leaving, you can’t change hismind and, most important, you can’t win against him.

Please, don’tcry. It’s for your own good. He loves you, he won’t do anything to hurtyou! He is just doing this so no one will harm you, try to understand.

Due tohis work, he might prefer to find a way to keep you with him rather thanleaving you in a house somewhere (and he has quite a few means to make sure youwon’t leave, trust me), to the point others will easily assume you’re eitherpartners or a real couple, working together. Those comments often make thecorners of Kurapika’s lips twitch in an almost smile (this pleases his greatly,because, in a way, he thinks this is not that much of a stretch. Why, in a way,it’s actually true, isn’t it?) while you always feel like you could puke as youwant to scream how he is keeping you against his will.

Not that thiswould help. You could say that to the Zodiac, to Cheadle, hell, even to Leorio,Gon and Killua and still, somehow, Kurapika would find a way to twistthe situation and nothing would be done. And although he sincerely believes heloves you and is doing what is best, this doesn’t mean he won’t find a way topunish you if you test his patience too much. If you keep this up, he may haveto come up with a more drastic way to ensure you behave.

Remember,this isn’t the Kurapika you know: This is someone lost to obsession.

When you’re“working”, Kurapika keeps his “professional” stance, but you always notice hissmall glances, the way he brushes his hand against yours at times… He may evenkiss your cheek at times. To bystanders, those small gestures always seem caringand gentle. To you, they feel like being brushed with needles. They are remindersthat you’re his and for you to not try anything funny (even Kurapika’s intentionsare not like that… Well… Not completely).

Thingsdon’t get better when you’re alone.

Whilemany yanderes cross the line way into sexual abuse, it’s hard to say if itwould be the case with Kurapika (well, any of the main four) or at what levelof obsession, he would need to be for that to happen (if it did, Kurapika would completelybelieve this is love, that he is merely showing you how much he loves you and helpingyou to settle in your new life together). However, even if he doesn’t everreach that point, it doesn’t mean things are that much better or that he leavesyou alone: He insists you sleep in the same bed as him, he frequently holds youclose… And those displays of affection are absolutely sickening for how wrongthey feel.

You can begand cry as much as you want, it won’t change anything. It breaks his heart, butKurapika rationalizes how this is for your own good. Oh, dear, he knows this isnot ideal, but once he gets rid of the Spiders (and anyone who might be athreat to your relationship), everything will be better, he promises. Like Killua,Kurapika might retain enough sanity to be aware of how his actions are hurting you,but at the same time, he will be at that point when he can’t fight against it…Or merely doesn’t care anymore, telling himself this is just for now and,eventually, you’ll come to accept him and love him back.

He willkeep you safe, no matter what.

Leorio

When youthink of Leorio, the Leorio everyone knows, that kind man who cares so much forhis friends, whom you can trust to always help them and think about the man hebecomes when he turns into a yandere, it’s like comparing two people whosedifferences are frightening and whose similarities make the time you have tospend together all the more painful.

It doesn’teven matter how you crossed paths, if he fell in love as soon as he met you or aftera while, if you two are in a relationship or not, though with the former, youmay have a few indications… Not that they will make much of a difference. First,because they will be very subtle. Leorio is not the type who’ll go into ajealous fit over nothing or be controlling. Second, because he’ll do his bestto apologize if he realizes he upset you or was irrational. Of course, norelationship is perfect, but in any case, you won’t have any reason to think youmight be dating/friends with a dangerous person.

If onlyyou knew…

And whileit’s obvious he’ll act soon if you’re not with him, don’t think that already beingin a relationship with him will prevent this, either.

As Leorio’sfeelings increase in intensity (and not in a good way), he starts to struggleto control certain impulses, at least at first, before his mind starts torationalize them, to the point they feel completely natural. He can’t help but toworry about you, especially if you’re involved in a dangerous job or when he hasto leave you due to his work. Even if he knows you can take care of yourself (makeno mistake, he is aware of your strength), he can’t help it. No more than hecan help how much he wants to be with you always…

And if you’renot together, the idea of you being with someone else starts to burn him… Yes,he thought it was alright, that as long as you’re happy, that’s all thatmatters, but… It’s not so. It’s not okay. His entire being seems to be on firewhen he thinks about it and he closes his fists so hard that his nails cut hispalms.

Well,that’s how love it, right? He loves you and when you love someone, you want tobe with them and make sure they are happy. It’s only natural… And you’re such agreat person, so many cruel things could happen to you… But you don’t have toworry. You don’t have to ever be sad. He can take care of you! He loves you somuch, surely he can make you happy!

And, asmentioned, even if you’re already in a relationship with him, it won’t matter inthe end. Feelings of this nature are not going to be hidden for long, not withLeorio. But by the time you’re forced to face them, it will be too late.

Don’tbother protesting: Leorio will make sure you understand you’re his. As much ashe wants your acceptance, it’s something that he knows he will have with time.

Leoriomight be contrary to threatening your loved ones, but it doesn’t mean he won’tdo so, should he consider it necessary (after all, the pain of those we careabout is always efficient to ensure “cooperation”)… Of course, he actually has other resources available you wouldn’t expect before resorting to this. And hewill make sure you have no loopholes, no opportunities, no chances of ever leavinghim, so even when you’re out in public, you’re still under his control.

Not thathe would ever allow you to go anywhere without him.

As caringas Leorio can be, crying won’t help you. It will break his heart to see yourtears, no doubt, but he considers them a necessary evil. They’ll only make himhold you close, whispering sickening words of comfort and of how much he lovesyou. Arguing that this isn’t love will only make him twist your words. He doeslove you and someday you’ll understand this. Trying to fight back willupset him and also be of little result. Leorio might not seem the most powerfulman around, but you’ll be surprised if you try to use force (and depending onhow he uses against you as a means to control you, you might decide it’s notworth the risk).

Escaping?Impossible.

Perhaps,one of the worst things, is how Leorio somehow keeps being his usual selfenough for you to remember who he is (or you thought he was), what you likedabout him and the good times you had together. The way he acts as if this is anormal relationship doesn’t help it.

But atthe same time, you can’t fool yourself. You don’t need to push much to see thatglint in his eyes, hinting to what he believes to be love (and might be, butcertainly not the healthy kind) and every time he holds you close, as gentle ashe is, you feel as if you’re being hurt. Even if you cry that he is abusingyou, Leorio will just ask how he’s abusing you. Come now, dear, has he ever hurtyou or forced himself upon you? All he is doing is to make sure you’re safe.

As soonas you accept your new life, you’ll see how happy you can be! After all, you’lllearn to love him in time.

It’s notlike you have much of a choice, now, is there?

#hxh headcanon #headcanon #hunter x hunter #main four #yandere #gon #kurapika #killua #leorio #god what have I done with those angels?#Not sorry actually #hxh

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gingkinnie · 4 years

Note

Please write an essay if you are willing and able! Interested to hear your thoughts!

okay so this will definitely be controversial and i want to hear people’s thoughts on this because i don’t have the same experiences with my parents as other people do so i can’t comment on the effects ging has had on gon, but i do think ging didn’t do any of it on purpose. first, i am basing this on the head canon (that i fully believe is true now) that ging used the pregnancy rock to have gon, so he doesn’t actually have a mother. because of this, i’m assuming ging didn’t really want a kid, but instead wanted to test out the card (and we all know what happened next LMAO). he was around 19 at the time if i’m not mistaken which is very young to have a kid, at least from my point of view. he kept gon for 2 years i think???? but then he probably realized it would be irresponsible to travel around and do the dangerous things he wanted to if he brought a 2 year old child with him so he gave him up to mito who he knew would care for him. personally, i think this was the best choice he could’ve made, but it did leave gon wondering why he wasn’t good enough to keep which makes me really sad, but i truly don’t think that was gings intention. again, he was around 21 and still had a career he wanted to pursue that wouldn’t allow him to take care of a child. yes that maybe selfish but i think he knew it would’ve been worse if he took gon with him.

okay the next thing is the part about him setting up a bunch of obstacles for gon in order to find him. now this i’m a little unsure of (i’d have to rewatch some of it) but i genuinely think he wanted gon to see greed island because he thought it was sick as hell and he took gon there when he was a little baby boy. i don’t think he really thought of the consequences of putting all this pressure on gon - he probably just wanted him to win because he made it while he was there (and on top of that gon is his son and he probably expected gon to have the same adventurous spirit as he did). i do agree it was shitty for him to take gon and killua to kite but that was because he is canonically too anxious to meet new people.

this also ties into the election arc where many people have problems with him (and rightfully so). the big problem was the fact that he never visited gon when he was on his deathbed. yeah that’s a pretty shitty thing to do but he genuinely had faith that gon would survive, meaning he was planning on seeing gon after that. it’s not like he was saying “lmao well i guess he’s dead.” IM NOT SAYING HE SHOULDNT HAVE VISITED HIM!!! he definitely should have but he knew he wasn’t going to die which makes it a little better i guess?

the next problem people have with him is that he wasn’t really excited to see gon when he burst into the election room thingy. we have to realize that this man did not even want to see gon when he brought ONE other person with him because he was too anxious and shy. let alone in front of HUNDREDS of people!! he was probably shaking in his knee high dollar store boots. i really don’t think he was embarrassed of gon, it was more so that he was embarrassed in general because he was the center of attention. he then told gon to meet him on the world tree which is essentially a spot that would be isolated from other people. they had a lil talk which made me so happy and now ging calls him all the time which is so cute?? and gon thinks of him as his “cool uncle” which i think is way more fitting and relieves a lot of pressure from both gon and ging.

PLEASE feel free to disagree with me!! i am clearly very biased because i really like gings character and i mostly consume pariging content so i’m not as deep into gon lore if that makes sense. i’m fully aware that a lot of gings actions have negatively affected gon in irreversible ways, but the point i’m trying to make is that he never purposely tried to damage gon like that and i honestly believe he’s realized what he did and tried to make up for it by talking with him on the tree and calling him all the time:)

#i didn’t proofread this so take it as you will #please don’t cancel me i’m just really ging biased rn #a lot of this is speculation too so you can totally disagree with me i wont be mad LMAO #also i don’t mean to offend anyone by this🥺#i will take it down if someone asks me too #ging #ging freecss #hxh

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sunflowersunshinevol6 · 4 years

Text

My Way

Chapter Two

Warnings: mentions of violence, phobia, mentions of child neglect, mentions of substance abuse, kidnapping

Harry pulled off onto a dirt road, the sky was crimson and orange as the sun went down. It had been three days since the gas station, three days of constant driving. And while she had managed to grasp sleep here and there, Harry drove on. She didn't know how he stayed awake, but he had managed.

Clara felt her anxieties clawing at her, ready to drag her beneath the surface, she was filthy, her hair, oily and greasy, it smelled like sweat. Her teeth hadn't been brushed and she could feel the germs, literally smell the overall, overwhelming stench of her body. She was disgusting.

Harry parked in a wooded area, back away from the road. Clara looked at him wearily as he unbuckled and hopped out of the van. She watched him trudge around to her door and throw it open.

“Get out. Come on.” Clara fumbled with her seat belt, moving as quickly as she could, but not quick enough for him. He grabbed her hand and yanked her from the seat, she stumbled, but he caught her with ease, setting her steady on her feet.

“Y-you said you wouldn't hurt me.” Clara whimpered. She backed away, as he opened the back sliding door. He hopped up into the van, turning to look at her.

"No. We're gonna sleep. C’mere.” He knelt, extending his hands out. Clara peaked around him to see a dirty old mattress covered in rumpled blankets and sheets. A tingling sensation made it's way up her spine, as her anxiety wrapped it's ugly hands around her throat. She began to hyperventilate.

“Clara?” Harry asked, concern lacing his words. He jumped down and came to her. Unsure of what else to do, he took her hands in his. His nails were dirty. She screams internally, unused to touch by others. “Clara look at me. Breathe. What's wrong?” he placed a hand on her cheek, making her stomach lurch. She couldn't shake it off. “Look at me.” He said again, she tilted her head to look at his face. He was breathing in an exaggerated fashion, trying to help her. And as cheesy as she always thought that was, she found it endearing now.

They hadn't been this close before, and as she tried to slow down her breathing she studied him. Really studied him for the first time.

He didn't have his cap on and she saw he had thick brown,curly hair, it fell down over his eyebrows and curled below his ears. freckles on his face seemed to dance in the fading sunlight. Tattoos covering his neck in black ink, down his chest and over his arms. She wondered just how many he had. as her breathing steadied, she stared at him in awe. He was kinda…..beautiful.

“You ok?” he asked, stepping back, giving her her space again. She shook her head.

“I can't sleep on that.” She mumbled, blush rising to her cheeks.

“what?” he glanced back, “why not?”

“Germs. A-and…..”

“And?”

“I've never slept with a man before….” He raised an eyebrow, she didn't explain what she meant.

“Okay,” he said annoyed, dragging a hand over his face. “you're like, the worst hostage ever,” he chuckled.

“I'm still a hostage?”

“What else would you be?” She shrugged.

“I don't know…..just doesn't feel like a hostage situation anymore.” It hadn't since the first day. They spent hours at a time cooped up together in the car. They weren't friends, but they weren't enemies either. It was a weird in between.

“Let's get something straight.” Harry stepped back up to her, he crowded her space, making her feel small. “You're not free. Not yet. My family says you can go I'll take you home. You try to run, and I will hurt you Clara,” his voice was low, his eyes serious, “and don't get me wrong. You're all right. You seem like a good kid. So don't give me a reason to hurt you. I don't want to.”

“I-Im sorry,” she whimpered. “I guess I got used to-”

“Don't get used to me. This situation is temporary. You'll be back in your cushy old life soon enough.” He turned, slamming the van door shut. “Get in.” He was in a bad mood.

“Where are we going?”

“The laundromat.”

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

The ride is quiet. Clara can feel the tension rolling off of Harry. She didn't know what exactly set him off, maybe her anxiety about germs? Whatever it was, she couldn't blame him. She knew she was a handful.

The parking lot is empty, save for Harry's van and one other car, a little further down the way. The fluorescent bright lights shine brightly from within the building. Harry reaches behind his seat, pulling two baseball caps out, and hands one to Clara.

“Put this on. Keep your head down and don't tell anyone who you are.

Understand?” She nodded. He tugged the cap over his head and opened the door. Clara followed suit, watching him yank open the rear door and start pulling out the blankets and sheets. He stopped, looking over his shoulder. “You gonna help?” he asked.

As much as she didn't want to make him mad, she couldn't do it, “no.” She said quietly. Harry just huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Such a fucking princess.” The words stung. There were a thousand other reasons she should be crying at this moment in time, but instead she's hurt and on the verge of tears cuz he thinks she's some spoiled brat. “Can you at least open the door for me?” She turns without a word to hold the door for him

It's quiet, except for the machines and a tv that's playing the news. Great. Clara thought. She went to the bathroom and grabbed some paper towels, taking them with her towards the table she had first seen, while Harry loads the blankets and sheets. She wiped down the table meticulously, making sure to catch, what looked like a soda stain, that had been left there.

Harry fell into the chair across from her. She could tell he was completely exhausted, and this made her feel bad. Why couldn't she be normal? That was all she wanted. Nothing else. Just to be normal, and not have people look at her like she was a freak.

“Mysophobia.” Clara said suddenly. Harry grunted, his eyes were closed, head in hand, but he acknowledged her.

“What's that?” he asked.

“Fear of germs basically….When I was a kid my dad died, and my mom started abusing pain medication as a way to cope. Instead of taking care of me she laid on the couch a lot or in bed, high as a kite. The house was always dirty, flies and gnats were everywhere and mice poop was all over the place too. It was really dirty and disgusting.” She takes a quick glance to see Harry looking at her with tired eyes. “The school reported my mom to children services, I got taken away while she went to rehab. I stayed with my best friend and his family for a little while. Until my mom got better….That’s when she met Marcus, he's a great guy, and he really helped her. By that time I had already started going to therapy for my anxieties and he was very supportive. He’s a good guy. I kept everything under control until my senior year of high school….” She trailed off, lost in thought, no longer caring if he was paying attention. She just needed to tell someone. Someone other than her psychobabble shrink. “I’d never been in a relationship, so when I met Leah I really fell for her. Hard….I had always considered myself straight, until I met her, she changed everything for me, and we loved each other a lot. She helped me tell my mom I was Bi. She didn't care that I was a clean freak. She saw me for me and she loved every bit of me.” Clara smiled, thinking of her former girlfriend fondly. Leah had been so beautiful, and strong and brave, everything she wasn't. “She brought something out of me, I didn't even know was there, she helped me become outgoing and confident. I felt like I could conquer the world, with her by my side….but then...Alex Collins came to our school.” She closed her eyes and shuddered, even his name still gave her chills. “He latched onto me right away, and had tried very hard to get me to break up with Leah to be with him. He started stalking me and wouldn't leave either of us alone...he didn't stop, it continued all the way up through senior year,” Clara felt a lump in her throat, it was growing, and she had to blink back her tears, “he killed her. He killed Leah. Shot her right in front of everybody.” She couldn't keep the tears from falling now. “he just walked up as we were entering the school, put the gun to her head and pulled the trigger….I….I was standing right next to her, her blood was all over everywhere. And he looked me in the eyes and said ‘you did this. This is your fault.’....he still hasn't been caught. He's been on the run for two years. And I….i've been even more messed up, ever since….” Clara finished quickly, not sure if he was even listening anymore. Just to be able to talk made her feel a new sense of relief.

“Why are you telling me this?” Harry's voice isn't annoyed or angry. There is sympathy layered beneath his words, so Clara looked up. Harry's face was blank, he stared at his hands in his lap.

“I just didn't want you to really believe I'm a spoiled Princess….Im the furthest thing from it.”

“My opinion shouldn't matter to you.”

“But you're the only one in a hundred mile radius I know. So it does.”

“Jesus Clara, you don't know me.” She flinched at the way he snapped. I am your captor,” he whispered the word. “This isn't a vacation. I'm not your friend and I don't need to hear your life story.”

“B-but I thought-”

“Whatever you thought is wrong. Look,” he leaned forward. “I'll do what I can to to keep my family from killing you, but whatever they decide I have to do. And as fucked up as your life has been you couldn't handle mine for a minute, You don't have the stomach for it. This isn't destiny or fate it's a temporary crossing of paths. So don't trust me. Don't get used to me. Just don't. Just keep your head down and mouth shut.” Clara was on the verge of tears again.

“But the sheets-”

“If washing some fucking sheets, keeps you compliant I'll do it. Nothing more.” He stood, wiping his hands on his pants. “Don't mistake me for a good guy. I'm not.” Clara sniffed, unable to stop the tears. Harry sighed, annoyance subsiding, he ran his hand through his hair. “I'm going to the bathroom. Don't move.”

Clara sat in stunned silence for a moment, truly processing the last three days for the first time. Harry was only being nice to keep her docile. Keep her from trying to run or find help. He only conversed with her in the van when she initiated conversation, meaning he really didn't care, probably didn't even like her as a person. She must be one fucked up girl if even an admitted serial killer didn't like her.

She looked towards the bathroom, if she was that much of an inconvenience to him she would just leave then. She flung the hat off her head and walked to the door without a second thought about it.

She had no idea where she was. It was dark out now, the sun long gone and a cool wind was blowing, leaving goose bumps on her arms. She shivered slightly, taking a deep breath and trying not to panic.

“Okay,” she muttered, “Look for help. A police man, mom with kids, anybody.” She scanned the street to see it mostly empty, most people were inside the shops and restaurants, escaping the first chills of autumn. Clara decided to walk towards a Subway down the road, passing by the same alley of the laundromat and the building beside it.

“Hello pretty.” before she could even get halfway down the sidewalk, arms burst forward from the dark alley, one dirty, smelly hand clamped over her mouth, the other wrapped around her waist, dragging her further back into the darkness. “You're mine,” a ragged voice chuckled against her ear. Clara gagged as alcohol and cigarette breath wafted into her face. Panic seized her as she was drug further into the darkness of the alley.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #solo harry #hs fandom #imagine harry styles #hs imagine #hs fanfic #hs2 #hs1

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cupidmarwani-archive · 5 years

Text

Do My Hands Deceive Me (3/5)

Ethan does intend to come back. He showers, gets ready for bed. But when he returns to the bedroom, Crockett is already asleep, and it feels wrong to crawl into bed with a passed out, drugged up young man who clearly has issues with boundaries. He’s more determined than ever to figure out what happened to cause this. Clearly, there was something wrong in his past, something that traumatized him and pushed him toward this pseudo-adulthood so dependant on the approval of strangers and pain masked as intimacy. Ethan has to call it what it is- self harm.

In the morning, Crockett is back to normal, or whatever semblance of it he holds. Alive and kicking, a little hungover, and determined to pretend that the day before never happened.

“I don’t drink wine,” he says firmly, despite having downed a handful of glasses. “And I would never do coke in a public restroom. I have standards.”

But something has changed, when Ethan looks closely. He keeps catching Crockett watching him, not with the usual mischievous look, but with something like curiosity, admiration. It’s different on his face, but beautiful. Oh, so beautiful, just as every part of him. In spite of the changes, however, he’s still Crockett, and Ethan is hardly surprised when he starts stripping in front of him in the middle of the backyard to go skinny dipping. It’s in character.

He does, from the lawn chair pulled into the shade, admire the way Crockett looks doing lazy laps in the cold water. His muscles aren’t well defined, but they’re kept, and the water can only distort so much of his rich brown skin. There are no tan lines to suggest Crockett has ever entertained a bathing suit when coming to his pool or perhaps sunbathing on this very chair. It would be a very Crockett thing to do, Ethan decides.

For a couple hours, he just watches Crockett swim. And then they watch movies inside, Crockett smoking a joint to the audio of the breakfast club. A movie star in his own right. The day is boring, compared to the last two, and ends with Crockett locking himself in his room- right next to Ethan’s- and loudly doing something unmistakably illicit. It’s too easy to picture him touching himself and tilting his head back, lips parted. Each moan carries through the plaster when Ethan’s this close to the wall, and he isn’t trying to listen, but it’s inescapable.

He winds up palming himself through his clothes too. It feels wrong, somehow. But he can’t stop, and Crockett only gets louder with each passing moment. Ethan imagines what it would be like to be the one touching him, to be intimately close as Crockett makes those sounds. To be someone who has sex with him, but not a bastard who beats him and leaves him bruised- rather someone who cares for him as Crockett deserves, and makes him feel good. Cared for. Adored.

The next three days are a cycle of the first. Clubbing. Rough sex that Ethan has to hear. Late breakfast. Shopping. Lazy day in and showing off his body like a provocation. And the three after that, just the same. It’s a cartoon, a repetition so predictable that it leaves Ethan almost bored, save for the third night which always brings Crockett making all sorts of beautiful noises, none the wiser to the way Ethan stifles his own in his pillow in response.

Twelve days on the job, four cycles in, Ethan starts to wonder if this is part of the perpetual game Crockett seems to be playing. They’ll be going clubbing today, for Crockett to get wasted and bring someone home, different each time. Ethan wonders how he lives like this. It has to get boring after a while, stale. The teasing continues, the easy stripping like Ethan’s eyes aren’t there, but other than that, it’s just sad. Someone reliving the same three days in hopes of something changing, which it never does.

Today they’ll be going clubbing, and of course, Crockett decides he needs Ethan’s opinions on what to wear as he stands naked. This time, Ethan spares occasional glances at his body. It’s hard not to. The way his happy trail darkens at his waist and melts into neatly trimmed curls, how he’s soft but still thick and alluring. Ethan’s never been too interested in men but Crockett… but Crockett. There’s no other way to explain it.

“What do you think of these?” Crockett asks, holding up a pair of velvet-looking skinny jeans. “Maybe with my ‘BABE’ shirt?”

“Up to you, you look good in everything.”

“You flirt,” Crockett says in fake shock. “Are you trying to get in my pants?”

“Not particularly.”

Nonetheless, Crockett laughs to himself and gets dressed. Jockstrap, pants, socks, converse, shirt. A ritual to the way he dresses. Always presenting himself the same, always wearing the same type of underwear when he goes clubbing as if it matters. Maybe it does, to the men he brings home. Ethan wouldn’t know.

They go to the club. Crockett dances. He gets pinned against the wall by a man with a lot of piercings and moans as a hand goes down his pants. It’s unmistakable what they’re doing, and as if that isn’t bad enough, Crockett catches Ethan’s eye. Stares at him as he ruts into the tattooed palm. All the way until his eyes flutter shut as he comes in his jeans. And then back to the dance, back to the same repetition there always is, and Ethan watches with too much pain because he knows how this ends. It ends with Crockett dazed and abused in bed, shivering and out of it, promising he’s alright but still bruised when he comes to the club next and hits the repeat button.

Until something deviates from the pattern, just like Crockett getting fucked against the wall. Someone has their arm around Crockett, who can barely hold himself upright. It’s much worse than he usually gets this early in the night. And they’re pulling Crockett out of sight, looking around as if to make sure no one is watching.

Ethan is watching.

He gets up and follows, hand poised at his side in fear, and silently prays that everything will be alright. But that hope dwindles as Crockett is pulled out a back door. He’s certain now, something is wrong. Really wrong.

In the alley, Crockett’s legs keep giving out beneath him, and the man with him meets Ethan’s eyes with a calm, cold gaze. Not intoxicated. Bad news.

“I’m just taking him home,” the man lies. “Everything’s good here.”

“Let go of him.”

Crockett, for his part, giggles and sways. Ethan searches for a visible weapon, a threat. He can handle this with his bare fists if need be, but he needs to know what he’s up against first. Who’s ready to hurt Crockett, badly.

“I need you to let go of him.”

Ethan puts his hand on his gun. Ready to draw it, but not to fire- not when Crockett would be too easy to strike as well. And he’d rather die than ever see a bullet pierce someone so innocent, so worth loving. Someone frail and fragile as Crockett is in this moment.

“Last chance to back off,” the man says.

He won’t back down. Not when there’s something so important to do. Ethan pulls his gun, but not before the other man does the same. Cold metal, gleaming bright, dangerous in its glow in the dark alley. And the worst thing he can imagine at this moment is Crockett dying.

Ethan is hesitant to fire, but the other man has no such qualms. It echoes, the sound painful before the shot. He aims. He prays. And another shot, the other man collapsing in a spray of blood, slow motion.

Somehow he winds up on the ground, cold. Staring up at the sky, dull and light-polluted. He hurts.

But Crockett is here, looking down at him with wide eyes and unsure hands. Something is wrong, but at least that man isn’t dragging Crockett away anymore. It’s the two of them, and he’s tired. Sleep would be welcome. But something tells him he shouldn’t. Maybe it’s Crockett, who has wet hands when he cups Ethan’s face. God, but the pain is overwhelming. His chest hurts. He can’t breathe.

“Call 911,” Ethan gets out, and hopes Crockett listens. It’s hard to tell if he will, when he’s high as a kite and probably drugged by the man who was attempting to abduct him. He hurts. He hurts. He hurts. Ethan wonders if he’s dying. “Help me…”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

He can’t breathe, let alone speak, but he’s still here, staring up at Crockett’s frightened face until sirens attack his ears and Crockett’s face vanishes from sight. He’s alone but can’t voice it. Without Crockett in his line of sight, he doesn’t know how to make sure he’s safe, especially after everything that just happened to him.

And that’s the last thing he can think about, because something covers his face, and he’s dead to the world.

@proceduralpassion @sextonsharpwinhalstead @ebug2002 @bipeteypie

#charcel #fic #mine #mhd!fic

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extravagantliar · 5 years

Note

'It seems that all my bridges have been burnt’

lost into the abyss // meme cache // tongue-tied, kites, & when the night is over

It is so infrequent that Dorian wakes him up, so uncommon that he forgets that Dorian is one of two people in the very vast world that is able to push through the do-not-disturb that is applied to his phone and more recently applied to his life.

The phone call is brief, seldom do they last more than a few moments, sometimes they are life checks and others are reminders on when and where Varric needs to meet him, but this one at three am is neither of those. It is simpler, four words that are not slurred but mucked and baited in some kind of disparity:

‘Come and get me.’

The call ends with an affirmation and Varric struggling to pull himself together. Dressing and ordering a car as the minutes seem to knit themselves together as he shakes the throws of sleep from his bones, stretching and throwing his bag over his shoulder. It’s not the briefness that worries him, for they always seem like this -- but rarely are they on the cusp of four am, rarely are they in the midsts of sorrow. They are better at staving off each other’s depressions and holding fast through each other’s anxieties for these last few years of friendship have been peppered with jobs, universities, deaths, funerals, and families.

Both had been cast out of the wide circle of their immediate family, some fences had broken in the wake of their changes, both had come off the coattails of some sort of relationship. Their friendship had been much needed, especially when they had dipped out of AA and gone to play cards instead, finding a new way to be accountable and to never go too far down the neck of a bottle again. A different kind of plan, a different type of church, a different sort of accountability.

Saddled in the back of a blacked-out sedan, all of these memories swell and come crashing too as the worst fills the space between, blotching out whatever good could also be waiting.

But it’s nearing four -- and he’s heard that voice before. So when he lands in front of Dorian’s office he takes the steps in twos, waving to security and signing himself into the lab, before readying himself to check his bag at the security counter, yet he’s waved back, overnight staff willing to break from protocol and simply show him to the imposing door, plastered with a name, title, and letters he barely recognises, swirled around Dorian’s name.

He refuses to knock, that’s not how they live their lives, they intrude on each other's spaces, pushing their way into the darkness and into the cramped spaces that they often place themselves in. The door lets out an unholy squeak, enough of a knock in its own right. “I’m here.”

“Ah good. I was wondering what took you so long, you only live ten minutes from here.”

“The clubs are letting out right now, I got stuck in UberPool traffic, why are you here so late?” He refuses to be led awry, to have the conversation migrate away from those sad words, the early morning ( or late at night ) call that had pulled him from his only restful sleep this week. It was a sacrifice, but one willing to be made for this man who he held in such warm and strange regards, their kinship or relationship teetering on the unknown and unfamiliar.

Dorian is a mess, but even then he’s picturesque. He’s always worn his emotions with grace, in such that many could be envious of the elegance in some times of strife, but in others, he could almost bubble over everything daring to spill out, and Varric doesn’t know which this is. He’s far too calm for the later but is now too dishevelled for the former. “Hard drive failure, I had to re-upload some data afterwards.” A snipped remark, a tell to leave it be. To drop it, but Varric won’t, that’s never been their style.

His bag ends up in chair across from him, and his thumb finds the plate of his phone, and it springs to life, opening his last used app and it takes one moment to dismiss the car that was on the way. “You know, you can lie to your techs and the security guys --- maybe to a couple of our friends too, but you don’t just wake me up to walk you home at four am because your hard drive failed.”

Words are almost too stern, and they leave the room far too soon. It’s a deafening kind of quiet, peppered with the clicks and buzzes of a computer trying to do something, and he’s now too familiar with this kind of quiet with Bartrand it tended to become angry, stewing and souring in the air, yet it never spoils it just stagnates and is almost doleful. “Tell me.” It is begging, as much as Varric will allow himself to do, enough that he leaves his bag, his phone and moves to Dorian’s side --- finding him amidst the papers and journals, a hand just for him, a shoulder just for him, a room, a world of understanding just for them.

In a world that had dared to be so unkind, they had found each other and forged something entirely new. They’re side to side, Varric’s hand finding the plane of Dorian’s shoulder and Dorian daring to lean into the contact.

“Oh, you know --- It seems that all my bridges have been burnt. Family, family friends and such.” Loss. There is no need to pry further, for they have both been stung by unkeen and unkind family, ousting them for reasons more and more inane than before, and part of him wonders if Dorian’s father had dared to show himself again, but with this, he doesn’t pry, not this.

Their one unspoken rule.

“You couldn’t burn mine.” It’s whispered to Dorian, only to him, for there are words he rarely states aloud, and those come uncomfortably close to love. It’s what he feels, and he’s unsure of what it means or what kind it is, but he doesn’t question any of that. He’s here, moving without thought, in front of him, hands on his face and there is a sadness in his eyes, and he knows it. It’s that lonely kind, the one that begs you to lose yourself to a binge and undo all of the good that has been done in your world. “Hey, look at me, you can’t burn mine.”

It’s met with a laugh; wet and full of emotion. “I could try.”

“You won’t and you can’t.”

Because there is something unspoken here, something that connects me and you.

Thumb brushes something unmentionable and linked to grief away. “Don’t do that, you’ll ruin your makeup.”

“Did that earlier, gods I’m a wreck, I’m sure I look it.” There is an effort to brush his hands aside, to move him away, but Varric keeps him there, keeps him looking at him.

And he’s met back with a puzzled expression, almost bemused, but ever so thankful. “You look fine, you always do.” It pulls a laugh from the man, still almost slouched in the chair, and Varric dares, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head, whispering words to soothe an aching soul, words he’s heard Dorian say to him, they pass them back and forth, offering a hand to hold, allowing a soul to grieve and mend on its own time --- but never allowed to wallow. So they cling to each other, arms snaking around his waist. A stolen moment of whatever this is, whatever they are, whoever they become.

So they can carry on.

“C'mon. Let’s go home.”

#I DON'T KNOW MAAAAAAN #cw sad #lmao lmao its me #bornpariah

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scatter-shotx · 5 years

Text

Hold On;

Come back I still want you—come back I still need you;

Have you ever had that pain, that pain that you can’t place in any particular location—only the fact that it hurts. Hurts to think, hurts to breath, hurts to feel. That festering sensation was what lingered in the pit of Nancy Wheeler’s abdomen. “Nancy?” It was the soft unsure voice of Dustin Henderson. Numb. Nancy Wheeler was completely and utterly…numb. “You’re wrong.” Nancy replied, her facial expression unchanging as she stared at the concrete outside of her doorstep. “You’re wrong.” She repeated, her voice a tad bit more shaky this time around—was she trying to convince herself or Dustin? “Nanc, I’m not. Steve was shot…I even had even called the police to double check on the obituary…Steve died.” It was winter now, yet…the doorknob was hot beneath her touch, while the entirety of her body was freezing. “You’re…wrong…” She whispered out as she felt her glossy aquatic hues focus more intently at the tips of Dustin’s sneakers. “Nanc…it’s okay.” Dustin brought his hands to her arms and held them as he silently begged for her to look at him, to make sure Nancy Wheeler understood. Nanc, it’s okay…it’s okay. Those were the last words she heard from Steve. God…the look on his face, the way the breeze gently pushed around his iconic locks of hair, and that undeniable look of pain etched all over his face. “NoOoooOo….” Nancy sobbed out as she felt her lips trembling, tears that she tried to hold back, falling effortlessly from her eyes as she felt a sob that was summoned in her chest. “Nanc….” I love you Nancy… Why? Why didn’t she fight harder for him to stay? Why didn’t she fight to make him realize how much she loved him, how much she still needed him? Dustin had watched as the shocked expression was left on Nancy’s face as snow blew in the doorway of her home, over her lap as she looked down at her hand to see his class ring still lingering on her finger—it was the only thing that she had left of him. A year and a half—a year and a half wondering where he was, if he was dead or not. “Steve….” She mourned him as she felt the air suck out from her lungs to where she couldn’t breathe, her heart splintering apart as she felt Dustin hugging the Oldest Wheeler child. “Baby no…” Nancy was begging, begging Steve as if he were there, begging him to stay. But he didn’t, he never stayed and he never came back. Later that evening… It was stupid. Believe me, Nancy knew how stupid that it was. But regardless of that stupidity…Nancy Wheeler used this so she could remember, so she could feel. Sitting down on her toilet, Nancy tucked her chin against her knee as her left hand pulled her big toe and her second toe apart, and from there Nancy used her right hand to guide a syringe and needle towards her foot. Looking at how the needle glistened, the light caught her eye and she could have sworn that the blinding light brought an image of Steve. “No…No…” She demanded to herself that she wasn’t going to cry, not anymore, not anymore tonight. Taking in a deep breath, Nancy pushed the needle into the skin between her toes and her heart skipped a beat as she pushed the liquid into her body. A breath. One breath and she felt that pain beginning to reside from her body, melting away as she felt the stinging cold of the toilet against her bare skin. Removing the needle, Nancy tossed it down onto the bathroom trash the plastic clattering as she sniffed hard, taking a few seconds before moving to stand up. As she stood up, she caught the reflection of herself, puffy red eyes, blemished skin, red nose, chapped lips. Blinking back tears, Nancy closed her eyes as she realized that she wasn’t going to win that battle. Holding onto the sink, she felt her heart begin to slow down. “It’s bullshit…” Nancy sobbed out as she realized that even in the darkness of her closed eyes—all that she could see was Steve Harrington, memories reeling through her mind as she felt her skin begin to relax around her body. /“You don’t love me?” / The floor rose up to meet her and Nancy Wheeler had now found herself on the bathroom floor, but instead of indulging in the euphoria of the drug, reliving the best memories of Steve, she couldn’t help but linger on everything she did wrong—everything… It was almost like she could feel his warmth, see him, feel him, smell him. “I still need you Steve…” She whispered out as it echoed through her head, the words he would have never heard Nancy say as he boarded that bus. “Steve…come back…” That day It was bright, too bright in fact—thank god for sunglasses. Next to her was her brother Will, and on the other side of her, her mother Karen. Thank god for sunglasses, because if anyone were to see her eyes right now, they’d realize that she was flying higher than a kite at the moment. Her feet and fingers were covered in boots and gloves, and that was a blessing because all of the needle pricks were no doubt going to catch the eye of several inquisitive folks. The funeral was something that was something almost in a different dimension for Nancy, how she wished it could have been different; if it had been her in that casket. Her right hand had been gripped tightly by her mother who had been watching as Nancy spiraled into a depression after Steve had left. But upon hearing that Steve was killed, Karen knew that every fiber of her daughter’s being was screaming in pain. But here she was, stoic, unmoving. People had been up to see Steve several times, and Nancy had yet to see him. “C’mon honey.” Karen noted as she gestured towards the casket that no doubt held the Late Steve Harrington.“Do you realize that this is a nightmare mother?” Nancy questioned which caused an awkward expression on Karen’s face. “This is a god-damn nightmare. Steve Harrington is dead. I still love him. I never stopped…loving him. So officially Nancy Wheeler is in love with a dead-man.” Nancy stated as she moved to stand up. “I couldn’t get him to stay, and if I hadn’t been so immature, if I would have been stronger, if I wouldn’t have been such a bitch, if I weren’t such bull-shit. Steve would be alive right now, I’d be happy, I would have made him happy. So this is a god-damn nightmare.” Nancy hissed out as she took her steps forward towards the casket and it was then that she had smelled it. Four puffs of Farah Fawcett spray. Nancy tugged off her sunglasses—she had to look at him with her own eyes. “Steve…” She whispered out as she felt the world around her melting away and all she could see was him. “Baby, I don’t know how…to be this world without you…I’m so sorry Steve…I’m so sorry…” Nancy’s voice shuddered as she put her fingers to run through his hair and rest on his cheek. “I love you…Come back, I need you Steve…” She begged the corpse in front of her, her heart aching so much it nearly threatened to burst out of her chest. “Come back…I’ll make it right this time…I promise…just…” Nancy couldn’t hold back the tears as she fell onto her knees in front of his casket. “Come back…I’m sorry…” She soon felt the hands of Dustin on her shoulders as he held her tightly as her body raked sob after sob. How could she say goodbye to someone she hadn’t seen in a year and half? Her first love? The love of her life? Steve Harrington? You couldn’t…she just couldn’t say good-bye. No doubt tonight, she'd jump off of the cliff and into icy cold waters--hoping it's freezing grips would claim her. There was no point...not anymore. x Sadness, depression, emotions that clouded the air and kept those that attended in tears. The funeral wasn’t huge by any means. Ironic for someone who had the title of king in Highschool. One might think the world all over would have come by to pay their respects to the man, but that just wasn’t meant to be. Instead what stood was a small group of friends and family that supported and cherished Steve Harrington over the years. His parents said their peace, a few of his highschool friends that kept in touch, but mostly the air truly saddened when Dustin stepped up to say a few words about Steve. Speaking of their time together, speaking of Steve’s deepest darkest secret and how it helped change his life, the Farah Fawcett spray. The advice the two shared, the good times, if ever there was someone Dustin could call a best friend it was Steve. Most at that funeral shared a similar opinion and experience with Steve. While he might not have been the easiest guy to get along with at times, it was his heart that drew so many in and his heart that made it an honor to know him. But it was the aftermath of the funeral, the last few moments everyone had with Steve before he was to be taken away, that was when the petite blonde walked up toward the podium where she hoped she’d find Nancy Wheeler. It was unmistakable, like Dustin, she’d be the one in a strong sense of pain. “Nancy, Nancy Wheeler…” The shaky voice from the blonde spoke, hoping to get her attention. Her bright green eyes looked back at Nancy, smudged from the make up that was compromised thanks to the tears she just wiped from her face. “Hi I’m…well my names Denise and I was, a friend of Steve’s. He uh…” She said with an inevitable lump welling in her throat. Trying to speak, such a simple action that became as complicated as decoding a rubix cube or Russian code at this point. “I’m sorry.” She said clearing her throat some before she spoke again. “Steve was a good friend to me. He helped me during some dark times and made sure I had what I needed to help take care of my little boy. He was a good guy, someone I owed so much too. The least I could have done was try to make him happy, try to make him smile, but no matter what I did I could never get him to smile. I thought maybe it was just a dark mysterious thing about him, but I found out there were two things that always brought that smile out of him. When he mentioned Dustin over there…” She said pointing his way, the same Dustin who spoke with Steve’s parents. “And especially when he mentioned you. He always spoke about you, always spoke wonders. God, everytime he mentioned the name Nancy Wheeler, his eyes lit up like it was the fourth of July.” She said with a chuckle at the thought. “You were truly someone special in his life. And I…well.” Dear Nance, So, you know I was never good at writing. Heck the last time I tried I made a stupid sports analogy to try and compare to my family. God just thinking back on it, how did you not laugh in my face? It was so stupid. Heh, but I guess that’s you right? Nancy Wheeler always seeing the best in people even when they don’t see it themselves. Well here goes, I’m going to give this a try so if I sound dumb along the way, please bare with me. I’m sorry that I left like I did that day. My heart and my mind weren’t exactly agreeing on what they wanted and I…I panicked. I left because my heart wanted you, wanted you as more than a friend. But my mind raced and kept going back to all the moments with us. To the stupid thing I did when I accused you of cheating on me with Jonathan. To the fight we had about Barb, to the fight we had before I left. It just kept replaying all the bad moments we had and it nagged at me, telling me it was just doomed to happen again. I was confused and like an idiot, I ran. Tommy might have been an asshole, but he was always right about one thing, whenever something felt like it was too much to handle I…I ran. And I ran again when I should have stood up and been a man, stood up and talked to you. Instead of calling you, instead of talking to you I ran over here to Wisconsin and stationed myself off. It wasn’t fair to you Nance, it was selfish of me and I never should have done it. Well, I’m done being an idiot. I’ve been working at this mechanic shop and I managed to get enough money saved up to buy a one way ticket back home. I just need to pick up this check at the end of the week and I’ll be set. In the meantime I’m writing you this letter to give you a heads up. I’ll take any slaps, any yelling, anything you have to throw at me. If it means I’ll get to see the beautiful Nancy Wheeler again then so be it. This time, I’m not giving up on us. I’m on my way to the post office right now to mail this out. I’m coming home Nance, because I love you and I truly believe in us. I’ll see you soon. Love Steve

Hold On by Chord Overstreet is the muse for the bundle of angst

#stranger things rp #stancy #steve x nancy #nancy wheeler #angst #au

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jordan202 · 6 years

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My Boys Drabbles: Just a Feeling (Part 3)

Hey guys, like promised here goes part three. Owen is finally face to face to with ex again. Sorry about taking so long to post it!

Previous chapters are HERE.

My Boys Drabbles – Just a Feeling (Part Three)

“Beth. It’s really you.”

Owen took his time recovering from the shock of unexpectedly bumping into his ex-fiancé. Seeing her after all those years was already surprising enough, but to find out she now taught his youngest sons felt like his past had decided to suddenly play all kinds of tricky games with him.

Beth stood up with a dignified expression on her face that seemed much more neutral and contained than Owen could ever associate with her. And somewhere in between processing all those thoughts and impressions, his mind also registered that while he felt absolutely stunned to be facing her, the teacher on the other hand didn’t seem really that surprised to casually run into him after over a decade of not seeing each other.

When met by nothing other than a quick inspection, Owen felt compelled to break the uncomfortable silence. In the past, he’d usually had a hard time getting Beth to stop talking and not the other way around.

“I... I had no idea you were a teacher here,” he confessed looking into her eyes and trying to understand what her distant expression meant. From what he could remember, Beth had always been receptive and kind whenever they saw each other after months apart and even though everything was different now, her silence was still strange.

Owen couldn’t quite expect her to smile and excitedly greet him now, but her total lack of reaction confused him. He knew years had passed and people grew and changed, but the image he’d carried of Beth during all that time had been the one of an idealistic, excited, naive young woman who was perhaps too optimistic and too much of a dreamer for her own good. Nonetheless, despite her lack of maturity, Beth had always had a good, decent heart. So it felt odd for him to face her right now and be met with an indifferent expression rather than a smile.

“I worked in Medina Elementary. It wasn’t until very recently that I took a position here,” she explained with a more polite approach.

“That’s good,” Owen swallowed hard, unsure of what else to say. He’d never really imagined what it would be like seeing her after so many years but if he had, his mind probably would have come up with something a lot different from what he was experiencing. “I hope you like the new job.”

“I do,” Beth said matter-of-factly.

“This is a great school,” Owen added, hoping the awkwardness of their interaction wouldn’t last very long.

“Yes, it is.”

The surgeon nodded, suddenly met by the uncomfortable silence again.

“It might be just an impression, but...” his voice trailed off as he looked for the best way to phrase what was conflicting him. “I kind of have the feeling that I am completely surprised to see you but you don’t look at all that surprised to see me.”

Beth gently furrowed her eyebrows as she looked at the twins standing next to them and then back at Owen.

“The first thing I got when I arrived at school was a list with all my students,” she looked at the man standing in front of her with a dumbstruck expression, as if what he was saying made no sense. “Hunt is not a rare name but it isn’t all that common either. And really, Owen? Just look at them,” Beth added, slightly shaking her head from side to side as if she couldn’t believe he was doubting that, “did you really think I wouldn’t recognize your sons the minute I first laid eyes on them?”

Owen opened up his mouth to refute her, but after realizing Beth was right, he decided not to say anything. Of all his children, Danny and Robbie were by far the ones who resembled him the most, not only in facial features but also in physical structure and maybe even in the way they spoke.

“Yeah, I guess you have a point.”

“Ms. Whitman, do you know my Dad?” Robbie interrupted their conversation, just as curious as his twin brother about the interaction between both adults.

“As a matter of fact, I do, Robbie,” Beth turned her head to face the child and her expression softened immediately, going from neutral to warm and receptive. “We met a long time ago, before you were even born.”

“Really?” Danny’s eyes widened with curiosity as he entered the conversation.

“Yes, but today your Dad is here for our meeting and he wants to hear about the two of you,” the teacher sneakily changed the focus of the conversation, knowing that as the normal six-year-olds Danny and Robbie were, they would definitely want to talk about themselves if offered a chance. “Is their mother joining us or can we start?” she asked with her best professional tone as she turned her head from the boys to their father.

“Uh, she can’t make it,” Owen replied, still disconcerted by the way Beth’s expressions would quickly change depending on whether she was talking to the kids or facing him. “She is stuck at work, so...”

“It’s alright,” Beth assured him with practicality. “I just want to update you on Danny’s and Robbie’s progress over the last trimester. We’ve had a remarkable...”

As his ex-fiancé and current sons’ teacher went on to give him a full report on how the twins were adapting to the transition from kindergarten to first grade, a much more impartial topic, Owen slowly made himself more at ease. Since he’d been caught so off guard, it had been hard at first to process anything out of that surprising encounter.

It was true that in the past he and Beth hadn’t had the easiest breakup. In fact, now he thought about it, the trauma surgeon became well aware that he’d probably been a real jerk to her at the time they had parted ways.

Not only had he taken too long to let Beth know he didn’t reciprocate her feelings and wishes, Owen had also failed to inform her he’d been back from a war zone once he made it to Seattle, even though deep down he knew she was deeply worried about him, to the point of praying for his well-being every night. Owen knew that the reason why he’d done it was because back then, he’d been caught up with a lot more than he could handle, including a serious mental condition. It had been easier to simply sweep his dirt under the rug and pretend he could start over with a clean slate rather than having to deal with what had actually happened to him.

Life had put Cristina Yang on his way and coincidence or not, she was exactly what he wanted but didn’t need in a woman at the time. Unlike Beth, Cristina was very comfortable with not knowing details and not asking any questions. And his unwillingness to face what happened to him in Iraq had been one of the reasons Owen had avoided Beth upon his return.

Even though he knew he wasn’t in love with her anymore, after their breakup Owen was pretty sure that she would have done everything within her power to try and help him if she so much as thought he was that damaged from the war. She would probably want to salvage their relationship too. The only problem at the time was that Owen wasn’t open to receiving that kind of help.

Or perhaps deep down he had a feeling that Beth was never meant to be the one with whom he could share his pain and trust his heart. Owen supposed that was true because now that he was older, had lived through things and knew better, he was sure that back then he couldn’t have connected to anyone else in the way he connected to his wife now, regardless of what he’d lived or been through at the time. It wasn’t so much about the experiences but rather how comfortable he felt to share with a particular person or not.

As Owen’s mind drifted back and forth in thoughts about the past and present, Beth’s voice broke the silence.

“So... we are done here, I guess,” she wrapped the conversation with a smile, playfully giving Danny an affectionate squeeze on his belly that made the boy chuckle and look at her with adoration in his eyes. “Can you boys please go pick up your backpacks and get the crayons you used back in the proper box? We want to keep the room tidy for tomorrow.”

“Yes, Ms. Whitman,” Robbie and Danny replied in unison.

Owen waited until the kids were out of their hearing range after noticing how Beth remained still, watching from a distance as his sons strictly followed her instructions.

“So...” Owen put both his hands in his pant pockets, drawing her attention with his voice. “You’re still excellent with kids, I see,” he commented awkwardly, unsure of how she would react at his attempt at small talk. Even though it had been years, Owen still felt awful about the way he had treated her, mostly because he had never really apologized for it. “Not that it surprises me, of course,” Owen added. “How many do you have now? Five, six?” he asked with a lighthearted tone, knowing that just like him, Beth had always wanted a big family.

Owen could swear he identified a trace of sadness in her gaze as she turned her head at him to reply.

“Eighteen,” she shrugged, apparently trying to look like she was okay with the joke but Owen knew her well enough to see that the question – and mostly the answer – bothered her.

The trauma surgeon quickly understood that eighteen was the number of children in his sons’ first grade class. And if Beth had given that as a reply, apparently regarding her beloved students as her children, it could only mean she didn’t have any kids of her own.

The realization took Owen by surprise but he didn’t have the courage to ask why she had changed her plans – or maybe why they had failed to happen? It was probably not his place to ask, anyway.

“Danny and Robbie talk about their siblings all the time,” Beth commented as she crouched down to pick up a pencil from the floor, making Owen wonder how she’d even spotted the object underneath a student’s desk in the first place. “Just yesterday they were talking about how you were flying kites with them over the weekend… They are obviously happy kids,” Beth gazed at the boys from a distance with a lingering smile. Owen saw the contrast between that and the shadow of sadness he could swear she was trying hard to conceal. “You got the whole package, didn’t you?” the teacher asked as she got up with the pencil in hand at the same time a gloomy shadow darkened her usually lively eyes. “Not that I am surprised, it is what you always wanted, I guess… What we both did.”

“Beth...”

“No, Owen, don’t,” Beth interrupted him before the surgeon could even start. She could precisely predict what he was about to do, and after taking years to recover from their unilateral decision to end their engagement, she wasn’t interested in hearing what he had to say anymore.

“I know we have both moved on and it probably doesn’t matter anymore… What’s in the past is in the past,” Owen repeated the sentence he seemed to be telling himself quite a lot lately. “But I’d just like to apologize for the way things ended between us,” he added the most considerately and kindly he could.

A daunting silence followed and Owen noticed as the face of the woman standing in front of him went through many transformations.

First she seemed surprised. Then confused. And finally, really angry.

“That’s it?” Beth scoffed, suddenly neglecting every progress she’d made in her journey to be resolved about her past. For a long time, she had tried every method possible for moving on: therapy, sports, yoga. Many years before she had finally convinced herself that she was over the heartbreak and if faced with Owen once again in her life, she would be able to simply ignore him because he couldn’t affect her anymore. Well, how wrong had she been, apparently. “You break up with me through an email, come back from the war and don’t say anything, then you get a job, start a relationship with someone else… And as if that’s not enough, you tell me to my face that my dad has cancer and walk away…” Beth summoned up the events from her perspective. “Years later that’s what I get?” for the first time that day, Owen could see a reaction on her face that seemed spontaneous instead of rehearsed whenever she looked at him. “A simple, generic apology? Are you actually serious?”

“Beth...” Owen took a long breath, suddenly regretting having gone there. He should have kept his mouth shut but something about his uncontrollable urge to come to terms with the people he’d let down had prompted him to say it.

“No,” she backed out raising her voice, for a moment forgetting they were inside a classroom and that she was at her workplace, in the company of two of her students. “Do you have any idea the pain you put me through that day?” the trauma surgeon didn’t have to ask her to know she was talking about the last time they’d seen each other. “You made me lose my ground, Owen,” her voice broke down a little as Beth struggled to contain her tears. “My ground!” she insisted, thinking back about how at the same time she had lost the man she had considered to be the love of her life and her father, the only parent she had. “I didn’t get a chance to take care of my dad because he didn’t tell me about it and I couldn’t take care of you either because you walked away. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to lose the two of you in the same month?”

“I...” Owen struggled with his words. It was the first time he was being confronted with that part of his past and when she put it like that, he couldn’t help feeling guiltier. “I was going through some stuff at the time and I didn’t realize what I was doing. I am sorry,” Owen replied in a lower tone, trying to keep their voices down not to draw attention from the boys who were already frowning as they collected crayons across the room and noticed how worked up their teacher seemed to be. “I get it if you can’t understand it and I respect it,” Owen said with honesty, feeling even worse for how he’d failed her. “I know it must be really painful for you to come here and have to teach my children after everything I put you through, so I also want you to know that I really appreciate how good you are with them...” the surgeon said, once again taking a peek at the boys. “And how much of a bigger person you are not to let our past interfere in the way you treat them.”

The teacher took a deep breath and closed her eyes, taking her time to open them again. It became obvious she was struggling to keep herself together and Owen censored himself for bringing up the subject.

“Owen...” Beth’s voice sounded hoarse as she tilted her head and looked at him, looking almost offended. “Danny and Robbie are wonderful kids and they have nothing to do with what happened between us,” she enforced, looking at them as she swallowed hard. Those boys and their stunning resemblance with the man she had built her dreams with once were a daily reminder of her failed past and everything Beth had set to accomplish but never did. “As you said, what’s in the past is in the past. Let’s just leave it there.”

“I really didn’t mean to make your life such a nightmare...” Owen said with a guilty conscience. At the time, it hadn’t been so obvious because he had been too caught up with his own traumas. But now, it made him feel extremely remorseful to realize that not only he’d broken Beth’s heart by leaving her, but he’d also done it around the same time he’d given her the worst news of her life after bluntly letting her know her father had cancer. At the time, Owen had grown sick of everyone hiding everything from her and he’d thought that she would be better off with the truth, no matter how hard it was.

So he’d disclosed to his ex-fiancé in the hospital waiting area that unbeknownst to her, her father had been battling cancer for a while now. And then Owen had walked out to never see Beth again until today.

By the time the older man had died, Beth had lost not one, but the two most important people in her life: her father and her fiancé.

The teacher was just about to once again suggest they dropped the subject when the twins finally came from across the room carrying their backpacks, silencing the adults’ apologies and once for all putting an end to that unexpectedly raw conversation.

On the short drive home, even though they had stopped to pick up the other kids, Owen was worried he might have to deal with a series of questions from the twins as to how he knew their teacher, but to his luck, they were too distracted with their siblings to bring up the subject.

But hours later though, by the time his wife got home, Danny didn’t waste any time sharing with his mother the news he’d learned earlier that day.

“How was everything with the school meeting?” Amelia asked at the same time she dropped her handbag on the counter, took off her jacket and approached the kids, giving them each a kiss on the head. “Did you meet the popular Ms. Whitman?” she asked with good mood as she looked up to meet her husband’s eyes.

Before Owen could reply, Danny intervened.

“She and Dad already knew each other, Mom,” the boy repeated what he’d learned earlier that day with a proud smile to be breaking the news, succeeding in getting his mother’s attention. “Ms. Whitman said she knew my dad from before I was even born!” he added with widened eyes, as if his father having a life prior to his birth was already shocking enough.

Amelia took in the information and looked back at her husband, using a confused expression rather than words to ask him to elaborate Danny’s revelation.

“I was going to tell you but Dan obviously beat me to it,” Owen said with a playful eye roll, knowing he really meant it. “I was surprised to find out like this, but it turns out the twins’ substitute teacher is Beth,” he unconsciously raised his eyebrows, expecting her response apprehensively as he whispered in addition, “as in, Beth Whitman. The woman I was engaged to before moving back here for good.”

As anticipated, Amelia was also taken by surprise with the information.

“Your ex-fiancé is their teacher?” she asked, thinking about the woman she’d heard about only a few times but never really met. Amelia looked at her husband almost apologetically, thinking about the couple of occasions in which she’d joked about the teacher’s manners and she talked like one of her students. “Is it the one you were going to marry when you were serving in Iraq?” she asked whispering back, unwilling to be heard from the kids considering she had no idea how much they had indeed been told.

“That one,” Owen replied tensely as he watched the twins go back to the toys they had been playing with prior to their mother’s arrival.

Over the years, Owen had shared so many of the most intimate things about his life and his past with his wife that he liked to think there wasn’t anything they couldn’t talk about. Surely some things were more difficult to discuss than others, and some topics Owen would much rather avoid if it could be helped, for various reasons.

It so happened that he wasn’t the least bit proud of the way he’d treated Beth in the past and talking about her only made Owen feel exposed in the worst way possible to perhaps the only person whose good opinion of him really mattered. So it was probably for the best not to dwell on that subject.

“Are you okay?” Amelia asked, mistaking his reservation for discomfort. Owen had been acting a little quieter than usual lately and she was starting to wonder if something was indeed off with him. “Did something happen?”

“No, it was just weird, that’s all,” Owen shook his head in denial, unwilling to stay trapped in his thoughts. “It’s past eight thirty already, I’ll get the kids upstairs to start their bedtime,” he proposed, crossing the distance between himself and his wife and giving her a kiss on the forehead. He’d already had dinner with the kids but had been waiting with them so that they could see Amelia for a while before going to sleep since she was working late that day. “There is a plate for you in the oven if you’re hungry.”

“I am starved,” Amelia confessed, already making her way to the kitchen. “I will catch up with you guys soon.”

The neurosurgeon had dinner and a shower at the same time Owen got the kids ready to bed. She then tucked Megan in, which didn’t take five minutes, and later spent nearly half an hour with Thomas lying on his bed as they read together until he finally fell asleep.

After giving the boy a kiss goodnight, Amelia proceeded to Lucas’ room. She made him promise he would turn off the TV after the anime he was watching was over and also got a hug and a kiss before finally turning off the lights in that bedroom.

That only left the twins’ room to go check and Amelia expected to find both boys already asleep. Nonetheless, she would go in to give them the kiss goodnight she always gave all her children.

To her surprise, she found out the bedside lamp was on and Owen was sitting between the children’s beds on a tiny stool that made him look even bigger than he already was. Even though he had his back turned to her, Amelia could tell he was reading the boys a bedtime story and she couldn’t help but stand against the doorframe and watch the scene from a distance with a smile on her face.

“Dad,” Danny’s voice echoed in the room as he contained a yawn right when his father finished reading a chapter of the story. “Did you misbehave?” he asked very seriously, but at the same time Owen noticed his son was looking at him with an empathetic, forgiving glance.

“Did I what?” Owen tilted his head to the side as he gently spoke back, confused by what Danny really meant.

“He meant when Ms. Whitman was your teacher,” Robbie offered some explanation to what was going on in the twins’ minds. “Were you in timeout a lot?”

Amelia had to contain a chuckle from where she was standing.

“No, buddy, that’s not what happened,” Owen calmly explained, smiling at the boys’ logic. “She is not old enough to have been my teacher. I knew her from before because she used to be my friend.”

Since Danny had asked if he’d misbehaved, it didn’t go unnoticed to Owen that the boys had assumed their teacher for some reason disapproved of their father. The additional question about him being sent to timeout corroborated that. They had probably picked up the animosity in the air, despite the adults’ effort to tone it down as much as they could. It made sense that the six year olds had related Beth’s attitude with misbehavior, the likely most common cause for the kids in their class to get frowned upon by their teacher.

Well, they weren’t totally in the wrong, Owen had to admit. Except that his past with Beth was more complicated than talking during class or forgetting to hand in his homework. It was true that he was going through the worst moment of his life at the time everything had happened but it didn’t make Owen feel any less awful for realizing now the pain she’d had to endure, something that at the time he couldn’t see very clearly exactly because of his own traumas.

“She’s not your friend anymore?” Danny asked with confusion and a glimpse of disappointment.

“I haven’t seen her in a long time,” Owen replied evasively. The details were too difficult to try to explain to two kids. “But what makes you think Dad might have misbehaved?” he asked Danny with a patient smile, leaning over to pull the covers on his son.

Owen noticed how the twins looked at each other, as if communicating in their own secret language before Robbie opened his mouth to answer the question that had been directed at his brother.

“Ms. Whitman seemed upset,” Robbie confessed, confirming Owen’s theory. “It was like…” the six-year-old hesitated, unsure of how to phrase what he wanted to say. “It was like Amanda when I told her that I can take care of Casper much better than she can,” the boy explained, referring to their class’s goldfish. “She can’t even reach the bottom of his tank, Dad,” he added, as if the argument absolutely proved his point.

“And Amanda was upset about what you said?” Owen raised his eyebrows with amusement, correctly supposing their sons were talking about a fellow first grader.

“She was! She didn’t want the strawberries mom put in my lunch box even though I said I would share them with her!” Robbie confided with outrage at what he apparently considered a big offense.

“I see,” Owen smiled at the dynamics of two six-year-olds innocently trying to socialize. “Maybe she just doesn’t like strawberries. How about you offer her some other kind of fruit next time?” he proposed with a playful smile. “Or even better, when grandma bakes a batch of chocolate brownies, maybe you can pack a big slice and take it to school for Amanda?”

“That’s a perfect idea, dad,” Robbie cheerfully agreed. “I bet she is going to love it!” he said with confidence. Everyone loved his grandma’s brownies.

“Maybe you can take some to Ms. Whitman too, Dad!” Danny promptly intervened, sharing his brother’s impression. “Maybe then she will like you again!”

Owen frowned, pensively. Apparently, he had reached the perfect conclusion by assuming the boys had picked up on some animosity in the air and figured that their teacher wasn’t all too pleased with their father.

“Ms. Whitman and I didn’t have a fight, Dan,” Owen said assuredly even though it wasn’t entirely true. “The only thing is that I hadn’t seen Ms. Whitman in many, many years,” he explained as he closed the book and placed it on the nightstand next to the lamp. “But it doesn’t change the fact she was a wonderful friend, and I know she is a wonderful teacher so I am glad you guys have her this year,” the surgeon added with a smile, knowing that his approval would mean a lot to the boys. Danny and Robbie liked the teacher very much and to have them so much as think their father might see her differently could conflict their heads. Owen was determined not to let that happen because his kids had nothing to do with his past and shouldn’t pay the price for his mistakes. “It’s late now, close your eyes, buddy,” he said, ruffling Robbie’s hair affectionately before pulling the covers to tighten them around his body.

Amelia chose that moment to make her presence noted and it was with smiles that she was welcomed in the room. After staying with the twins until they fell asleep, she was escorted by her husband back to the hallway.

“I am so tired I had to give my everything to resist calling it a night and just crashing on Danny’s bed with him,” Amelia confessed with a playful grin, putting both arms around herself and rubbing them to fight off the cold and exhaustion.

“Was your shift that bad? I thought you would come home after the surgery you paged me to,” Owen confessed with an understanding glance, pulling the covers on her side of the bed first so she could crawl in. After he got a positive nod in response and realized Amelia was too exhausted to elaborate an answer, he added, “I was kind of hoping we could start that show about the hostages trapped on an island on Netflix tonight,” he joined her in bed. Unlike his wife, Owen didn’t feel the least inclined to fall asleep. It had been happening quite often lately.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Amelia agreed with a yawn. “I actually should start drafting the paper for my new research but, nope, not gonna happen.”

“If I put on the show, you’re going to fall asleep five minutes into it,” Owen shook his head with playful disapproval as he turned on the TV with the remote anyway. After returning the object to his nightstand, he used his arm to capture his wife by the waist and pull her closer.

Amelia didn’t protest but rather sought the warmth of his embrace. She’d had a really long day with back-to-back surgeries and a lot of unexpected bureaucracy to deal within her department. The following days promised to be just as busy as she once again planned a new and complicated research within her department but at least for now she could enjoy the comfort of her husband’s familiar embrace and relax while he gently stroked her hair as she lay against him with her eyes closed hearing the sound of the TV on the background.

The neurosurgeon was nearly asleep when something her husband had said earlier that night came to her memory and she suddenly couldn’t put her mind at ease again.

“What was weird?”

Owen seemed very confused by her blunt question and Amelia instantly figured out that she hadn’t explained herself very well.

“When I arrived from work today… You said that running into your ex and finding out she is teaching Robbie and Danny was weird,” Amelia reminded him, slightly rolling her head to the side and opening her eyes to meet his gaze. “Why would you think that? It’s not a word you use very often.”

Owen seemed to think for a while before he opened his mouth to reply.

“I meant to say I didn’t see it coming, I guess,” he said with a low, patient tone of voice while looking straight into his wife’s eyes. Amelia still felt his fingers gently caressing her hair and that combined with the sincerity in his gaze as he maintained eye contact with her made her sure that Owen was being honest. “It just took me by surprise… I hadn’t seen her or heard from her in years.”

Amelia took her time processing his answer. It made absolute sense that Owen would be surprised with the news. But somehow, there seemed to be more to it. As if he wasn’t only surprised, but also shocked and intrigued.

“You don’t talk much about her,” Amelia mentioned the most casually she could. Robbie and Danny had obviously gotten the impression that their teacher was upset with their father, even though he’d denied it. Amelia could only wonder what that meant. “I mean, you never really told me what happened between the two of you.”

“There isn’t much to tell,” Owen said, hoping it wasn’t too obvious he was avoiding going deeper into that conversation or else it would only raise a flag for Amelia to ask further questions. He didn’t want to go into the subject because deep down, it ashamed him to admit to his wife how he’d treated his ex-fiancé in the past. Even though Owen supposed he had to cut himself some slack considering how unwell he’d been at the time, he still couldn’t come to terms with his realizations from that day. “We met when we really young and as we grew older, I got wiser and eventually I realized that she wasn’t the right woman for me, so we broke up,” he summed up, hoping Amelia’s tiredness would prevent her from asking further details.

Owen should suspect he wasn’t going to get away so easily, though.

“Why?” Amelia moved in his arms and gently turned her head up to maintain their eye contact. “I mean, how did you come to the conclusion she wasn’t the right one for you?”

Even though she was very serious about her question, Owen was determined to skip all those painful, unnecessary parts of his past that would probably only serve to disappoint Amelia nearly as much as he felt disappointed in himself for his past behavior.

“Because she wasn’t you,” Owen said with flattery as he possessively chucked her under the chin and stared into her eyes with a trace of playfulness before stealing a kiss from her lips.

Amelia saw right through him and his plot.

“Oh yeah?” she pretended to be on board with his game. “And are you so smart that you’ve reached that conclusion and broke up with her before you even met me?” she asked with a challenging smile.

“Exactly. I am glad you’re able to acknowledge how smart I am,” Owen brought his other hand to her face and caressed her, mesmerized by the way she looked at him and everything he saw in her eyes. “I was just killing time while waiting for you,” he added with a teasing voice.

Amelia laughed right through his exaggerated sentimentality and before she could grill him, her husband decided to share a little more.

“Okay, so… When I started dating Beth, I was this idealistic, fresh off college guy who saw the world much the same way she did,” he explained. Back then Owen hadn’t known many of the hard truths he later on had learned about life. “But then I went to war and it changed me. Beth stayed and she remained the same person. As you can see, it was only a matter of time before our perspectives collided,” he added, being as evasive as he could without being dishonest. “Especially when our relationship was already on the rocks because of the distance and everything... So that’s why it never had much of a future.”

When Owen took a deep breath and slowly let it out, Amelia wondered if she really should be pushing him to talk about that subject. She knew that even after all those years, talking about his deployments and what had happened during the time he’d been at war was still hard on her husband. If he had to relive all of those things to talk about his ex-fiancé, it was no wonder why he was avoiding the subject.

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up some hard memories. I know you don’t like talking about the war,” she considerately said.

Owen gave her a doubtful sideways glance, suspicious about the intention of her last statement considering how much in the past Amelia had used her power of persuasion to get him to talk about his time in service.

“Alright, I know I grill you about it, but only when it is for your own good!” she justified her manners, getting a playful glance in response.

“It wouldn’t be you if you didn’t,” Owen commented lightheartedly, although deep down he hoped the conversation about Beth was over.

Owen didn’t have to think about it for much longer because sooner after, Amelia finally gave in to exhaustion, quickly falling asleep next to him.

Knowing he wouldn’t be as lucky as his wife to successful rest and put his mind at ease, Owen was once again confronted by memories of his past and his misdoings.

From everything he’d learned that day, he had to admit that finding out Beth apparently hadn’t gotten married or had kids was by far what had blown his mind. Her vague answer about her life at present time and indirect admission that she didn’t have any kids was still conflicting Owen. He hadn’t seen a ring on her finger either and didn’t fully understand why that got to him.

He and Beth had spent apart the majority of the time they were a couple, mostly because Owen had been deployed. But that didn’t mean Owen hadn’t gotten to truly know Beth and what moved her.

During his life, he’d met all kinds of women. Some dreamed of being doctors, some wanted to be business owners, a few had no idea what they really wanted. And Owen knew that people’s dreams and goals changed overtime. But ever since he’d known Beth, the only thing she had ever truly wanted was to be a mom. So to find out she had made it this far in life without fulfilling that dream made Owen feel strangely sad, and to some degree, even accountable.

During the time they had been together, all Beth ever talked about was getting married, having kids and being a stay at home mom. And Owen knew that dream wasn’t just something she considered for herself but rather something she felt like defined her. Kind of like an ideal she based her entire life on, according to the teacher’s own admissions. And even though Owen knew it could very well have changed over the years, based on what he’d seen earlier that day, he had a bad feeling Beth’s life aspirations hadn’t really changed at all.

But soon enough, the surgeon wondered if that perhaps he was being too arrogant and giving himself too much importance.

What did he know, really? Maybe Beth had indeed tried. For all he knew, she could have met half a dozen guys after him and moved on with her life as he honestly wished she had. Beth could have even gotten married. Just because apparently it hadn’t worked out, it didn’t mean she hadn’t tried, he told himself.

But before Owen could control it, his gut feeling told him that it probably had not been like that. Beth was very selective. She wouldn’t be jumping from guy to guy looking for a Prince Charming. And she definitely wouldn’t marry the first guy that came along considering how much of a romantic, idealistic girl she had always been.

Up until now, Owen had never really given any thought about how much he’d affected Beth’s life by breaking up with her and leaving her alone to deal with her dying father. Maybe he was overestimating the importance of the role he had in her life but judging by how dependent Beth had been on him at the time and the spoiled, naïve and sheltered way with which she had been raised, it was only fair to assume that he’d put her through so much heartbreak that perhaps he’d played a bigger role into turning the woman into a cynical than he’d initially assumed.

You made me lose my ground, Beth had said. That wasn’t something a person who’d experienced a common heartbreak confessed. Her suffering had probably gone beyond that. And Owen knew he had a big load of responsibility for putting her through it.

It was absolutely true that he couldn’t have forced himself to love Beth in the way she wanted him to love her. Owen was in peace with that. But there were a lot of things he could have done differently.

He could have broken up with her earlier on when he’d first realized they didn’t want the same things instead of postponing it and unknowingly doing it in the worst possible moment… Just before her father got sick.

He could have called to check in on her after she’d learned the truth.

Hell, he could have at least asked about her father and offered help if she needed any kind of medical assistance…

It stung to realize this only now, but maybe for Beth, being engaged to him and getting married to him meant more than it did for the surgeon. Owen had failed to realize just how important their relationship was to her at the time. Perhaps he might have ruined her life more than he imagined, more than he’d ever considered himself capable to.

While drowning in his own guilt, Owen failed to realize that he hadn’t really been herself back then.

If he shared some of the thoughts that were torturing him with his wife, she would have rightfully pointed out that he had just been through something huge by the time everything unfolded. After going through perhaps his worst army deployment, Owen had not been in a condition to make any good decisions. In addition to that, he had already accepted that by the time he’d put an end to his relationship with Beth, he didn’t love her in the way she deserved. And frankly, even back then her presence in his life and constant badgering had already started to annoy him. He knew Beth did it with the best of intentions, but Owen just wouldn’t have put up with being questioned constantly and forced to confront his experiences in the Army, much less talking about them.

If Owen had stayed with Beth, he would never have given her the opportunity to help him, no matter how much she would have wanted to. Her attempts would increasingly irritate him, perhaps to the point where everything would backfire, causing more pain and heartbreak. Owen could be quite difficult when he was pushing people away and it was likely he could have hurt Beth even more if he’d forced himself to be around her.

Years later, it was easy to look at his past and judge himself after assuming he could have done better or tried harder. But truth was, Owen couldn’t have seen any of that at the time because he was struggling with his own demons and focusing too much on the outcome of his decisions to really see the bigger picture.

Exactly in the same way he was functioning right now.

Owen took another deep breath, trying to process everything. He couldn’t change his past and the way he’d hurt other people, no matter how much he wanted to. The burden weighing on his chest felt especially heavy after the truths he’d learned recently. Sometimes it was just too hard for him to forgive himself.

One look at the woman sleeping peacefully by his side made Owen want to try and see the silver lining. All his misdoings and mistakes, even the worst ones, had led him exactly to the life he was living right now. That was something he couldn’t take for granted. As he lay awake in bed, forcing himself to clear his mind of all those thoughts, Owen realized that he was sorry for many things. Some of his choices had been absolutely dreadful and if he could go back on them, he would.

But if there was something he wasn’t sorry about it was definitely the person lying next to him and everything they had built together. His family was by far the most important thing he had and it was his responsibility to take care of them and make sure they were okay.

Owen had hurt a lot of people on the course of his life but he would never forgive himself if he did the same to Amelia and the kids. Just the thought of it made him cringe, and the surgeon immediately closed his eyes rejecting the idea, more determined than ever to protect them from anyone and anything.

Even if that included himself.

#omelia #myboys #myboysfanfiction #owen hunt #amelia shepherd #omeliafics #omeliafanfiction #omeliafanfics #omeliafic #owen x amelia #amelia x owen #amenff

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runningwhump · 5 years

Text

This is Very Long and continues from this (also i promise I’ll make a masterpost of all of these soon)

anyway, here is 6367 words of Liam being stressed!

(content warnings for threats of harm to children but none are actually hurt or scared)

Liam must’ve passed out at some point, tied up in the boot. The road felt different. It wasn’t the pot-hole filled, run down roads of his hometown, they were smoother, newer. The car was definitely moving faster, or at least that’s what it sounded like. There were more cars around too, he could hear them racing beside them. So, definitely out of town. The furthest away he’d ever been before was the big town 40 minutes away to get a suit for a funeral.

He was so tired. It had only been about a month since he’d been taken, but it felt like a lifetime. It might as well have been, considering how different of a person he figured he must be. He was always accommodating to others, never really wanting to take up more space than necessary or promote himself in the place of others, a learned behaviour after living at his parents’ for so long. After moving out into his shitty flat, he had started to get more assertive, more likely to try and do something himself before asking for help but feeling less bad when he did need it. But throughout it all, if someone was trying to hurt him, he would stick up for himself. The rare confident moments he had was when someone tried to tear him down - Blake once described it as him being one of those cartoon trees that would only bend back so far before flicking up and flinging the character across the sea.

Now?

Now he wouldn’t even consider trying to fight back or even disobey. Even if Keanan was just… not insulting him, but just saying things he wouldn’t otherwise accept without a comeback - that he was precious, that he belonged to keanan, his ‘Little bird’, his canary. He felt weak for breaking so soon, although the logical part of his brain reminded him that he has been tortured near-daily for a month. Four weeks. And that was only an estimate judging by some of the things his captor had said, no real evidence. He didn’t even have a clock down there.

He didn’t even know where they were going. He would pretty easily break free, get someone to notice him, but what if when the cops pulled them over keanan hurt them? He didn’t exactly like cops but their families didn’t deserve whatever would be done to them. What if when he was taken out of the boot, they somehow found out what he was and handed him back? That would make everything so much worse, and if he could placate keanan by doing nothing then so be it. Maybe he could try and make a break for it when keanan opened the boot, if he wasn’t already in a house. It wouldn’t work, but maybe… no, it wasn’t worth it. The only thing that would happen would be keanan catching him, dragging him back where ever, and making it so he couldn’t ever run again. Liam shivered.

It was colder than when the car first started so he guessed it was getting to evening, but they were still driving, albeit slower. Were they getting close? Did Liam want them to get close? At least with being in the boot he knew he was safe, that Keanan wouldn’t come bursting in without warning and almost kill him.

Oh, oh no. he spoke too soon. The car had rolled to a stop.

He heard and felt Keanan’s door open, but no matter how hard he strained he couldn’t hear any other cars. This was it, then.

The boot was yanked open, and the sudden burst of light into the formerly pitch black boot bled through his hood. Liam could feel Keanan standing there, staring down at him. He was still shirtless, had been ever since the first week when his shirt had been destroyed, and he felt it now in the breeze slicing icily over his scars.

He was helped up to sitting on the edge of the bonnet, and Keanan removed his hood after opening the ties of his wrists. Liam tried not to look at him, unsure if it would be read as defiance or whatever, but keanan gripped his chin and forced him to. From what he could see around keanan’s face, the were along a rarely used dirt road, forest behind them, farms ahead. There was grass and little flowers in between the worn tire tracks, dandelions just starting to bloom.

Neither of them spoke. Keanan was just casting his gaze over Liam’s face and shivering body. It was only partly from cold - keanan was only ever quiet when he was planning something and Liam felt fear pickle over his skin along with Keanan’s gaze.

The older man’s longish, dirty-blond hair was down, one of the first times Liam had seen it like that, and it was whipping about his face with every strong gust of wind but he didn’t seem to notice as he sat down beside Liam. he tensed, waiting for something to happen, refusing to move. He must’ve looked like a mouse next to a cat.

“Liam, I’m going to trust you with something important.” he said, looking off into the field beyond them. Liam didn’t really know what to make of it. So far, keanan had only ever treated him as a pet, as something to play with every so often, not as a person with thoughts and the ability to be trusted. He wasn’t sure which he preferred at this point.

“We aren’t going to get where we’re going today. It’s already getting late, and I don’t want to drive down little country roads in the dark. So, I’m going to have you heal yourself so you have no visible marks, give you a shirt, put you in the passenger seat, and drive to a hotel.”

Ah. that’s why keanan was ‘trusting’ him. Trusting him not to run off or call for help. He would have to check into a hotel with his kidnapper, be surrounded by potential help, and let keanan keep him.

The man in question had turned to face Liam again, dead green-brown eyes turned questioning.

“Are you going to behave, or am I going to leave you in the car boot overnight?” he asked, not a little bit joking.

“I’ll behave” Liam answered, voice creaking from having not drunk anything all day. Keanan smiled in response, a sharp-toothed grin peeking from behind pale lips. He was going to enjoy this, Liam realised. Had he planned this from the beginning?

And where the hell were they going that was a two day drive away?

Keanan told him to start before getting up, and Liam did as he was told with only a minor sting of embarrassment. Ge decided to focus on this all being to protect others. If keanan spotted him trying to ask someone for help, and he certainly would if he tried, he would kill them. Liam didn’t want anyone else to get hurt.

As he was finishing healing the bruises around his wrists from his ropes being too tight, keanan came over with a plain white shirt and a pair of black jeans before turning away to give Liam at least a little privacy, which he was very thankful for. The jeans were identical to what he had kidnapped Liam in, which was disturbing to say the least. Liam’s own were blood-stained and unsalvageable, so he did really need new ones if they were going somewhere, but it creeped him out that they were just… a new pair of the same trousers and he couldn’t really word why. It was the same with the shirt, it was the exact correct size and almost the same as the one he’d been kidnapped in, although that made more sense as he could’ve looked at the label. Liam brushed it off as just something keanan did. It felt good to have clean clothes and a shirt, more secure. He hoped he was allowed to keep it when they got to wherever they were going.

Liam cleared his throat, and keanan started walking to his door without turning around, telling Liam to shut the boot and get in the front.

It was strange to sit next to him in the car. Here was this man, this monster, that had kidnapped and tortured him, that had convinced his only close friend that he was dead, that murdered for money and fun, was just sitting there, driving down a small road in the countryside with a random pop song playing quietly through the radio. He looked relaxed but his face was blank. The windows were all closed, so his hair just hung around his shoulders, messed up from the wind.

The car wasn’t even that nice - dark blue, scratched bumper, kind of dirty, not expensive; Just a normal car. The only thing strange about it was despite the old exterior, the seat coverings, foot-wells, the whole interior, looked completely new. Same with the inside of the boot when Liam had closed it and looked inside. It didn’t even smell like old or new car, just a strange and vaguely nauseating mix of both. Liam suddenly had a sick realisation as to why - had he shoved Blake in there? He was bleeding quite a lot, and blood covered seats wouldn’t be great if someone looked in the window. He wondered how often he had replaced them. Did he have to go to a specific place? Surely going to a normal garage with blood stains in a car would raise some questions.

Keanan merged onto the motorway, and Liam distracted himself by looking at the plants Lining the road and scanning for birds. He felt immature, but this was the first time he’d seen outside in too long and he didn’t want to waste it. Who knew how long would pass before this could happen again, if ever? What if he died before he ever went back outside? He shook his head slightly. There was no point thinking like that right now - what would happen would happen, and he would just have to deal with it. No point in looking to the future.

They passed a field, and Liam saw a kite hovering above and had to suppress the urge to point it out. Anytime he’d been in the front seat of a car, he’d been considerably safer, with someone he trusted. The last time had been with blake, driving out of town to watch a meteor shower. Blake always loved hearing about all the different things he spotted. Liam had to bite his tongue and turn his head further to the window - it would be bad if Keanan saw him trying not to cry.

Can’t think about the past, then, either.

Thankfully, keanan didn’t notice, and soon they were pulling onto a slip road to head to a service station with one of those chain hotels shoved in the corner. It was long past what could reasonably be called evening, but the hotel lobby was warm and brightly lit, and the tired but kind looking lady at the desk helpfully informed them that dinner was still being served, or they could order room service if they preferred. She shot Liam a kindly look, almost asking if he was ok. He assumed that she was worried because he was a young-looking guy traveling with a clearly unrelated man old enough to be his dad, so he did his best to send a reassuring smile back, desperate to keep her out of danger from the shark beside him. Keanan, for his part, pretended not to notice.

After being given the keys by the receptionist who still didn’t look convinced, Keanan threw an arm around Liam’s shoulder.

“Come on, kiddo. I think we could both use as early a night as we can get - thank you, jane.” he smiled. Liam was astounded, Keanan had mastered the voice of ‘kindly-but-over-enthusiastic-step-dad’. The receptionist - jane - looked relieved and Keanan’s arm around his shoulder was just a little too tight to be comfortable, so he smiled at his torturer and nodded a thanks to jane. He knew he was shaking, so he shoved his pale hands into his pockets as keanan led him to the room he’d been assigned.

It was immaculately clean, the sheets on both beds looking soft and inviting, but he stayed where he was after keanan let him go, waiting to be told which one would be his. The decor was a little outdated, purple fabric bed frames, a wooden board hiding LED lights hung on the wall behind them. 70’s style furniture made up two chairs and a desk with a shelving unit attached, a small kettle sitting on one of the shelves and some stock-photo esque flower paintings dotted around the walls. The beds were identical, separated by about a foot, one closer to the door to the hall and one nearer to the deep, net curtained window.

Keanan let out a self-satisfied humm, before setting his backpack on the bed closer to the door and gesturing for Liam to settle on the other bed.

“I’m going to get us some food and take a shower, feel free to wander around the room as you please, but don’t leave.” he explained as he picked up the phone on the table in between the beds. Liam didn’t really want to go any closer to keanan then he already was, so instead he sat on the white-painted windowsill. They were about three stories up, high enough that he doubted the window was able to open more than a few centimeters even if he thought he could jump without dying. It was too dark to see more than the headlights on the motorway just past the car park, but that was better than staring at a wall like he’d been doing for the past month. He lost himself in the passing of the cars, focusing on the movement rather than any depressing thoughts he would otherwise have.

He heard the shower start running, and was struck with the realisation that he was effectively alone and unrestrained in easy reach of help with none of the repercussions that existed while they were driving and someone had already tried to check if he was ok a few floors down.

He didn’t move and he wasn’t really sure why. He was scared, he supposed, but that had become his new normal so it kind of melded into the background. Thinking or trying to move from his seat on the windowsill brought it back in a tidal wave. But why? If he got out of the room, ran down to find jane and ask her to call the police she would, and keanan would be arrested. He probably hadn’t been reported missing because of the videos, blake was smarter than to risk that, but he could show his scars if he had to, and if he tried he could probably find the house.

But he stayed still.

If he failed, the consequences would be - well. They would be worse than anything he’s ever been put through done before, and would probably end with Liam dead. He had heard enough of keanan and Blakes conversation to know what keanan would do to his body if it came to that and he really wasn’t a fan.

Not to mention, his death would leave keanan free to take on more ‘jobs’ and hurt more people, and it would be entirely his fault. If he decided to keep someone else like he was doing with Liam he would never forgive himself.

Sighing, he drew his legs closer to himself. The room suddenly felt very cold. Liam looked up to the moon hanging low in the sky, just shy of full. He hoped blake was ok. They had left only a few hours after keanan drove off with him and, judging by the road signs he saw on the drive to the hotel, it had been around four hours since then. Was blake awake yet? If he wasn’t that would be bad, probably would mean he had a concussion, that he needed help. He could die out there. Hell, Keanan could’ve lied and killed him anyway…

Liam buried his head in his knees, pressing his eyes into them and tightening his arms. He couldn’t afford to think like that. What he had figured out over this journey was that he couldn’t let himself think of the past, the future, or blake. He should probably extent that list to include anyone not in his immediate vicinity too.

The shower shut off, and Liam raised his head to see keanan emerge from the room, damp hair swept back into a low ponytail, black sweatpants and a dark grey long sleeved top. It made a lot of sense, Liam had seen Keanan’s arms before and they certainly did not fit his current act - there were thin scars from what he assumed were knives, some thicker ones that he tentatively guessed were bullet grazes based on his TV show knowledge, and one on his left upper arm that was definitely a gunshot wound. There were scars on his hands too, mostly his knuckles, but people didn’t tend to look at hands in his experience.

“You can shower after we eat if you want. I have pajamas in the bag that should fit you.” keanan said. Pajamas. Keanan had bought him pajamas. This trip was getting more and more surreal as it went on, Liam was almost waiting to wake up.

A knock at the door had Keanan getting up and gestring with a semi-aggressive hand wave for Liam to do the same. He complied, and started moving the two water glasses off the desk in case keanan wanted to sit and eat.

Keanan grabbed the food without much conversation and closed the door gently. He set Liam’s plate down on the desk but retreated to his bed to eat his own, and Liam took it as a cue that he was ok to eat it wherever, so he made his way back to the windowsill.

Liam didn’t pay attention to the food, mainly focusing on keanan out the corner of his eye but he wasn’t going to lie, it was the best meal he’d had in a while. Keanan didn’t not feed him, but mostly it was just sandwichs or soup, occasionally an actual meal if he’d cooked too much for himself but it was always cold by the time he gave it to Liam, everything was cold down there.

here , on the other hand, directly above the radiator in clean clothes with a warm burger balanced on his lap, the plate warming through his jeans, was basically the height of summer. It was a welcome change. He wasn’t sure if it was just knowing that he was safe - keanan wasn’t going to hurt him in such a public place - or if it actually was just this warm. Was this normal room temperature? It felt weird to admit it to himself but he’d forgotten what that was. He finished the burger quickly, almost afraid it would disappearance he would wake up back in the cold.

He decided to take keanan’s offer of a shower after finishing and setting his plate down on the desk. The only ‘shower’ he’d had the last month was keanan aiming a freezing cold bucket of water at him and he wasn’t going to pass up the offer to get actually clean for once. Maybe that’s why jane had been so suspicious - He must look a wreck.

Oh, damn. He hasn’t looked at himself in a month, since this whole nightmare began… he wasn’t sure if he wanted to or not.

Taking a deep breath, Liam entered the bathroom, closed the door and turned to the mirror.

He was thinner than he had been, but not enough to look unhealthy, although he supposed he wouldn’t be sure until he took off his shirt. His skin however, was paler than it was even in midwinter to the point it looked sickly like bone. His hair looked thinner, in a way? If that’s something that can happen? He wasn’t sure, but the pale brown strands fell flat and greasy to just above his shoulders. His eyes were dull, dead green. He’d noticed that after a while, his magic had begun to glow less bright when he used it and he supposed it showed in his eyes. The necklace with the dead canary’s feathers still hung from his neck, and he reached up to touch it. He was trying so hard to keep it’s determination in mind but it was so hard. The poor thing had cried and cried for who knows how long for help and no-one came, no one but him cared, and now it was dead. Was that all his own cries were doing? Was there actually any point in holding out hope if he was only going to die like the bird? He sighed, and dropped his hand down. He didn’t want to think about anything like that anymore. Honestly, he didn��t want to have any thoughts at all anymore.

He removed his shirt with perpetually shaking hands, feeling vulnerable without it and with keanan being so close despite the locked door. His torso was now covered in scars where it had been mostly bare before, marks showing where he had begun to run out of magic but still having to heal himself, ends tapering off into his skin. He ran his hands over them softly, remembering what had caused them.

Knife.

Match.

Whip.

Bone.

He didn’t deserve this.

What had his life come to, that he had these scars? If you talked to anyone from his past, anyone at all they would never think him to have any scars that were not from him being stupid and falling down a hill or something, and now he had the marks of potentially endless torture marring his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out another shaky sigh, turning away from the mirror to continue to undress. He took his necklace off last, setting it gently on top of his folded clothes on the edge of the sink.

He was quick to figure out the shower, turning the dial to be wonderfully warm. Couldn’t he just stay here forever? It was nice, his hair was finally clean, and he wasn’t covered in a layer of basement grime and sweat anymore. He was safe here, he supposed. As long as he was in this building no harm would be done to him because he would make noise and someone would call for help.

Unless keanan gagged him.

What if he was just waiting for Liam o get out before hurting him again - What if keanan got bored of waiting? What if he came in while Liam was completely defenceless, without even clothes to hide his skin? He didn’t want to get out, but he was driving himself mad. He just wanted to put his one layer of defence back on.

He had already washed his hair so he jumped out of the shower, bundled himself up in the fluffy white towels and hurriedly dried himself off. He still had a few scabs that he hadn’t gotten around to healing but thankfully none of them opened as he dragged the fabric over them. Liam grabbed at his trousers and shirt, pulling them on before he was fully dry so they clung to his skin but he really didn’t care - he needed them on right now. He felt stupid for it, how frantic he was when the thin fabric provied literally no actual preotectiong - the fate of his last shit proved that much - but he felt mildly better for having them on. He stood staring at the necklace on the counter for a long time.

Liam picked up the thin leather cord gently, and kept staring at it. It suddenly felt like it weighed ten tonnes, dragging him down into reality. Keanan had killed the bird for no reason. Keanan was torturing Liam for nor reason, and he would kill him for no reason. The bird had cried for help and had still died. If that bird had an opportunity, it would’ve escaped.

If he ever had an opportunity, it was now.

At some point he had sat down on the floor, back against the cabinet with the handle pressing into his mid back. He was still holding the necklace carefully in his shaking hands, bright yellow feathers the only spot of colour aside from the blue-green of his veins. That bird had never gotten out alive, but maybe it could still get free through him.

Bringing the feathers close to his face, he whispered a vow into the filaments. He would escape, he wouldn’t stop trying, and he would get the little thing to safety.

With a breath and more stable hands, he tied the cord protectively around his neck. That little bird had always been singing its defiance, so neither would he. Just, maybe he would be a little quieter about it. He still didn’t want to get up though.

He would have to go back out eventually, but surely he could just sit here for a moment, be safe for a moment longer? He would have to plan where he went before he opened the door, how to skirt the edges of the room without keanan noticing before he could reach to windowsill again, then he could figure things out more -

“Liam? Are you ok?” came keanan’s voice through the door with a knock.

He swallowed thickly.

“Y, yeah - I’ll be out in a moment.”

Getting up took almost more effort than he could spare, walking to the door left him struggling for breath. He held onto the handle to catch his breath but he had to do it or keanan would get angry and he was going to escape and he couldn’t do that hurt. He turned it slowly, took another breath, and pulled the door open fully - only to see keanan standing with a smile directly in front of him.

He let out a sudden squeak and jumped backwards, eyes wide and hands up. Keanan just laughed, shook his head and padded back to his bed.

“I’m going to get some rest - I suggest you do the same.”

Liam was more focused on where keanan was than what he was doing, so when the room suddenly went pitch black he gasped sharply and made a noise he wasn’t going to describe as a whimper, followed by another small laugh from his captor.

Ok, ok. He just had to remember where the besk and chairs are, figure out where his bed it and get in as quickly as possible. Simple. Suddenly the image of a canary flying through a coal mine waved into his brain. Why did they do that again?

What if keanan didn’t get into bed? What if he was just waiting in the darkness, what if he’s somewhere that Liam will run into him - what if he never gets into his bed and just watches him?

Oh, right. They put canaries into the mine to hear them sing, and if they stopped it meant there was gas and they had died. Which is… fitting. And terrifying. But if he stayed right here in the doorway, keanan would definitely ask why. Deep breaths, go slow.

Liam planted his sweaty palms on the wall, at the height he was assuming the desk was at, and began to creep towards the other side of the room. Had keanan planned this? Liam swore he could feel his eyes burning into him and half thought that if he turned his head he would see two red laser sights peering from the dark. He stopped, shivered. Don’t think about it, don’t think about him. Just cross the room. He closed his eyes.

Had the wall been this long before?

His heart rate spiked as his overly sensitive fingers hit something and he sucked in a short breath in shock - just the wooden edge of the desk. Not a human. Keanan made no noise, which scared Liam more than anything else - was he trying to hide his position?

Just keep walking.

He tried to take another deep breath but found he couldn’t - the same fast feeling that made him throw his clothes on so fast had taken over again and he clutched the edge of the desk in a death grip, half worried he’d break his own fingers.

Just keep walking, just keep walking. Try to loosen your fingers, don’t get a splinter. His foot hit a chair leg and he almost fell in fear, but he stayed upright, stayed silent. Just keep walking, just keep memorising. He had to know the exact position of all of the furniture if he was getting out.

Edge of the desk. Onto the wall. Nothing to hold you up, just keep walking. The floor was different here, slightly bendy - potentially creaky.

A sudden noise from the darkness and Liam froze - was it breathing? A laugh? It was definitely a laugh but it sounded weird, not like His laugh, like…

Like a child’s laugh. Other side of the wall.

He forced his feet to move again, and when he eventually found a corner he almost cried in relief. That much closer. When his fingers curled over the to the windowsill he had to force himself to stay on the ground rather than jumping onto it to get as far away as he could. His fingers hummed with the texture of the wall but it hardly compared to the screaming of his mind to run, jump, get away!

He pulled back the covers and slid onto the bed. He kept his body above the covers despite the screaming to cover himself. This wouldn’t work otherwise. He pryed open his eyes, fear receding now they had adjusted. It was still dark but at least he could make out the edges of the furniture now. He could see flowing shapes in the darkness, his brain constructing figures to try and force some sense into him. He just hoped none of them were actually keanan.

After he thought enough time had passed for keanan to fall asleep, then he moved.

Quiet as he physically could, Liam climbed from his bed and crept close to the wall. The floors closer to walls and heavy furniture were always less likely to creak after all.

Silently, he made his way to the door. He wouldn’t be able to open it quietly so he would have to run as soon as he started, but it would be worth it. Someone could call the cops, someone could hide him. He would be safe as soon as he was behind a locked door. He reached the desk and swiftly passed it careful to avoid shifting a chair. So far so good. He didn’t know the exact location of the door handle, but it wouldn’t take much to find it. He was so close!

His fingers brushed the handle to the bathroom - only about a meter left and he was out.

One step, then another, quiet and slow, hands outstretched. He flinched back when they hit something - the door! He managed to curl his hand around the handle, and take as deep a breath.

Then two large hands landed on his shoulders

Shit.

Liam felt keanan shift his weight, now pressing down painfully on his bony shoulders, until his breath cursed his ear.

“My pretty little bird, what are you doing out of bed? It’s late…” he he asked, voice dripping fake confusion. He knew exactly what Liam was doing.

Suddenly, the hands were gone and keanan stood up fully.

“Liam, you’re free to leave if you wish. But i think i should tell you something before you make your decision - a choice made in ignorance is hardly ever a good thing, wouldn’t you agree?”

Keanan paused for breath, then turned Liam around with a firm hand.

The hand reached under his chin, tipping his head back to look at the slightly darker black shape directly in front of him. All keanan was in this moment was a blood-thisty shadow, like all his skin had run away and his soul was the only thing left showing.

“There’s a little family next door,” He intoned, “two young children - twins, I think - and two loving parents. I’d bet that I could get them screaming for death before the police could get here. Hurting children in front of their parents is a quick way to do it. they’ll give you anything, everything, if you stop hurting their precious little ones. Do you really think a locked door would stop me?” he continued with a small laugh.

“No one else could get in and they’d all be dead by the time the police managed to break down the door - I could probably take down a few of them as well…” He sounded contemplative, almost dreamy now and Liam though he might throw up.

“Now, you can keep trying to open that door my sweet, but I would keep my words in mind.

Liam swallowed thickly.

“They would arrest you, though. They would be your last - the last people you hurt.”

Keanan chuckled in response.

“Do you really think i’ve never been arrested before? We all have to start somewhere Liam and no one is perfect to begin with! They have never managed to keep me for more than six months so far. I’d come for you, as soon as I got out, then i would go after Blake, and i would make you watch as I killed him. After that, I would someone else entirely, and it would be your fault. For dying so quickly.”

Liam went blank. He had been so close to freedom, to going home. This was his chance and now it was ruined - what had tipped keanan off?

Keanan sighed and patted his shoulder, casing Liam the flinch back with a startled little noise.

“Go back to bed, dear.”

The walk back to his side of the room took no time at all compared to the walk to the door. What was going to happen to him for this when they got where they were going? He wrapped himself in the covers as tight as he could bare, hoping they would muffle his sobs. This had been his only chance, and he had blown it. Shit!

Liam didn’t sleep much that night but it seemed like only a few minutes before the sun was creeping through the net curtains and he heard keanan move. Liam stayed still even as he felt the tall man’s eyes bore through the fabric.

He yawned and rolled Liam over in his cocoon, forcing him to look at keanan.

“Get up, Liam. we still have a long drive today and i want to get there before noon.” he said as he stretched. “I’ll get us food as you get changed - oh, and wash your face. All your crying has made you look a mess.”

_______________

The time passed in a blur. Liam was exhausted, upset and scared - more so that what had been his recent life. He did as keanan had asked then sat on the edge of a chair waiting for him. The clock on the wall said 6:30am, the pamphlet on the desk said breakfast started at 6:00am. Keanan had left at around 6:15am. Liam just sat there watching the second hand tick, trying not to think. Keanan had locked the door when he left, but liam wouldn’t have tried. He could hear the two kids next door giggling and trying not to wake up their parents.

If he was ever going to escape he would have to be very far away from everyone else.

Keanan came back about five minutes later, and started packing up the few things he’d gotten out. Liam stayed still, so tense he may as well have been made of the same material as the chair. At 6:40 and five seconds, keanan tapped him on the shoulder and told him it was time to go.

There was no one at the reception desk when they went through the lobby.

There was no one in the car park apart from them.

Keanan put Liam in the passenger seat, rambling about how Liam was going to love the new house and ‘it was a shame he would only see one or two rooms of it, but there was so much to do and oh he did like a project’, and Liam tuned him out.

Keanan shut up at some point, and eventually pulled over.

The site was empty, a layby on a rarely used road, but Liam couldn’t see a house, but keanan got out anyway - had he said something when they arrived?

Keanan yanked open Liam’s door and dragged him from the seat, wrestling him out of the still done up seatbelt. Liam panicked and started flailing around, unsure of what was going on. A sharp crack had him on the floor with a grunt of pain, keanan split knuckled and bored above him.

He sighed.

“If your going to be rude and ignore me, you don’t get to be in the front seat. Your on thin ice after last night, my sweet so i would chose wisely”

Liam didn’t respond. He kept his face tired and dead, not that it took a lot of effort, and watched keanan clench his fists. Defiance may not be the best idea but it felt good and he needed that right now. The canary never did what keanan asked of it.

“Ok.” Said keanan with a sigh, hauling Liam to his feet. Liam made no move to help. The most defiance he could muster was non-cooperation.

Even as keanan opened the boot and shoved him in, the most he did was move his hand away from the slamming lid - to which keanan paused mid-slam, and glared.

Then it was back to darkness for who knows how long.

#my stuff #liam #keanan #fear #stress #emotional whump #beaten up #child abuse mention //#exaustion #whump #whump fic #whump drabble #I'm sorry that this has decided not to use the cut I put in #idk how to fix it bc it shows there is one when I go to edit the post???

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bluesakurablossom · 6 years

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Acceptance and New Friends

Emotions were running high and seemed like at any given moment Leo, Donnie, Raph and Mikey would be having an anxiety attack. Even after deciding to wanting to stay hidden from the rest of the human population after their latest mission, the NYPD and Chief Vincent had decided that they wanted to do something more for their heroic deed in defending their home and the world. They decided to give them one of the biggest wishes that any mutant could ever dream of. The gift of freedom. Yes they were given the opportunity to be able to walk the streets of New York above with other humans.

At first glance they seem very unsure about this whole thing, after all even though they had a bit of a rough start with the police after the whole Foot Ninja break in and were now on good terms, they seem hesitant on trying again fearing they would receive the same reaction. And trust them, they didn’t need to hear being called freaks or monsters again, the first time was already degrading enough. It took a lot of convincing from April, Casey, Vern and Rebecca to give this another chance, but after some time they decided they had nothing else left to lose and now took the risk.

It was so different being able to walk above and not feel like the need to hide all the time and you could just walk around like you were a normal person. It felt weird too, like being so open was a new strange feeling for each of them since they were so used to being in the shadows all those years of living underground and experiencing this seemed unreal. Never did they once think that this would be happening, not in a million years. Sure they had dreams of being able to be able to walk amongst humans but they never thought it would come true. Well here they are now in Central Park during a special harvest event with April and Casey with them. It was so gut wrenching at first that they almost bailed out and wanted to go back home, but all seemed to be going well so far. No one around them seemed bothered or scared or disgusted. Sure they did get a few looks but they were only smiles and curiosity. It seemed unreal almost like a dream, never did they think that they would ever get another smile from another human besides their own human friends.

Getting into the whole thing better now, they were chilling out underneath one of the biggest oak trees in the park while other families were around them chatting away. Talking themselves they noticed another family was coming into the park, a young woman with a little girl hand in hand with her mother came walking by them. Every time someone would walk by they feared the worst but each time it was the opposite and that’s just what this mother did. She gave them a smile with her little girl moving on ahead with a giggle.

They sighed heavy in relief, making April look at them concerned. “Guys you don’t need to be scared every time someone walks past, you are all okay”, she said

“It’s just a bit frightening you guys, I mean we have never done this before, I mean its not common finding walking talking turtles out and about with humans”, Donnie said “The odds are basically zero to zero”

“I know it is, I know it must be scary, but look around no one seems bothered by your appearance let alone every time someone walks by they give you a smile”, she said

“Yeah and if someone gives you a bad look just let me handle them, I will give them a whack with my hockey stick”, Casey said, flipping his hockey stick beside him making April look at him with a cocked eyebrow and slapped his arm, making him wince and rub his sore arm

It earned chuckles from everyone and decided to explore more while the others went back to conversation, Leo got from their spot under the tree and went towards the drink table and eyed immediately at the huge fruit punch bowl that sat in the middle. Using the ladle to get himself a small drink, he sighed with content feeling the fresh fruit liquid run down his throat. He looked around watching many families were content in doing their own activities and or talking with each other. He smiled when he saw little kids chasing each other around the pond and some were flying kites high up into the air. It made him look back to when he himself was that small with his brothers when they would play games like Buck Buck and exploring tunnels pretending to be brave ninja warrior battling sewer monsters. Unware to him he didn’t notice a little figure was walking past him, he sensed it and thought they went away but then he sensed someone came back and saw the little girl he saw earlier come walking up to him. “Hello there”, her voice sounding so gentle and sweet

He couldn’t help but smile at the very sight of her. She was so small compared to his figure, her dark blue jean jacket covered her purple dress that matched her brown cowgirl boots. Her blonde thin hair was held back into a half style ponytail and in her hands she had collected small flowers nearby. He knelt down on to his knee to come down to her level. “Well hello there to you too young lady”, his voice matching hers

“I have never seen you around here before”, she said, curiously “Are you new here?”

He chuckled softly. “Well I have been here a long time, just haven’t been around a lot of people”, he said

“Are you a turtle?”, she asked, looking at him, but that smile never left her face. He seemed quite surprised that she was interested in him, she didn’t look at ounce bit scared or nervous. Those sweet royal blue eyes were starting to melt his heart. Even for a young child her age, she seemed so calm in being in front of a giant reptile like himself, treating him like a neighbor welcoming someone into the neighborhood.

“Well yes I am, I know I may look a bit giant and different, but I am not scary as you think”, he said, trying to assure her that he wasn’t what he thought most people would think about him

She just continued to smile. “You are not scary, you are nice, I love turtles”, she said, as she stepped closer looking down at the flowers she picked earlier, taking a couple of daisies from the bunch

Gently reaching up she slid the flowers into the edge of his blue bandana before stepping back a bit. “Welcome”, she said

He felt his heart flutter at the thought of someone being so open and kind towards him as he felt the flowers were secured in his mask with his hand. Her smile never stopped and he couldn’t seem to have stopped either. Looking at her made him realize that maybe not all humans had thought the same that they were good ones out there like April and Casey and Vern and the police force. He knew that being himself that true acceptance would always come from being yourself, even though he had doubts that anyone else would actually accept him, having this young child accepting him seemed like a victory to him. “I see you have a made new friend honey”, a female voice spoke with happiness

The same young woman he saw with her, probably was the girl’s mother, come up to the two of them. “Yes mommy”, she said, looking up to her mother hugging her around her leg

He felt a bit of nervousness once more course through his system, a bit fearful of what might happen next. “I am sorry mam”, he said, standing up to his feet, feeling a bit weak in the knees

“Sorry for what? There is no need to be dear”, The woman only smiled at him shaking her head “My daughter is very open and friendly with everyone and I can see she was almost starting to make a flower crown for you”

She eyed the daises that she had put in his mask. First the young girl and now her mother were being so open and treating him like he was another person, seemed to have added on to the good feeling of acceptance. “Mommy do you think we can meet the others too that we walked past?”, The little girl looked over towards his family whom he looked over towards and smiles were plastered on their faces seeing the adorable sight that was in front of them.

“Its up to him sweetheart, you don’t mind do you? We would love to get to know you all”, She smiled towards Leo

Now they were wanting to get to know them better? Man this must be a dream, he felt like someone should pinch him awake. But this was real, happening right now. “O-of course yes, you can”, Leo stuttered “Oh I am Leo by the way”

“It’s certainly a pleasure meeting you Leo, I am Maryanne”, The lady, now known Maryanne said

“Come on Leo”, The little girl reached up her little hand towards him

She smiled up to him waiting for him to accept her invitation and he felt an even bigger smile come to his face as he gently reached to take her little hand into his giant one. It was so small and fragile that he was afraid that he might just hurt her, but she squeezed on to one of his fingers secured like she wasn’t going to let him go. He just wanted to melt inside. He then let the rest of his hand encase around her hand gently. “Her name is Ellie”, Maryanne said

He looked back down at her with the never stopping smile. “Hi Ellie”, he said, softly

She smiled more and she lead him over towards the rest of the family with her mother in tow beside the two of them. The two families were getting along great with each other. Talking most about their lives and even small topics on Ellie. They were laughing and enjoying themselves while enjoying drinks and small plates of food they had gotten from the harvest table. Ellie was placing flowers in Mikey’s mask while they both were laughing. “What do you think so far?”, he asked

“Needs more daisies that or carnations”, Ellie said, as she giggled placing a few more on the back of his head

“I still can’t believe that you managed to take down that alien ship, I thought for sure we were all goners, who knows what that could of done” Maryanne was looking intrigued of hearing their latest mission in taking down the Technodrome and sending it back to its dimension

“Trust us, it wasn’t easy, it was probably one of the hardest things we have ever done”, Donnie said, taking a sip of his ice tea “But something tells me it probably won’t be the last time we will deal with Kraang”

“You mean he might come back?”, Ellie asked, looking a bit worried looking up from finishing the flower crown. Leo looked towards her concerned and let his hand soothingly touch her shoulder giving it a gentle rub. “It might happen again honey, but we will make sure that nothing bad happens”, he said, making her smile return once more

“If he does, do you think I can help?”, she asked, sounding cheerful, and that made the turtles and her mother smile towards her offering. Leo chuckled softly and smiled. “We would love for you to help, but I am afraid that this one would be a little too dangerous for you sweetie”

“Oh okay”, she nodded in understanding

“Well I could give her a few lessons, she could probably take down the weapons”, Raph teased, with a smirk

“Yeah Raph if you were to being teaching her, she would be a body builder by the time she is ten”, Mikey joked earning a smack from his brother, which made Ellie giggle a little

“Hey can’t help I love working out so much”, He rolled his eyes a bit annoyed making everyone laugh. But there was some stares in the distance that were what they had feared all this time. A couple was standing off a few feet away and were alone. They were looking and whispering things that could easily been determined from their mouths, it seems like they were trying to make things very obvious of what they were saying. Maryanne seemed to notice that the boys were trying to make themselves look unnoticed and sinking down and that was making her seem upset very quickly. “I will be right back”, she said, sounding very stern

She didn’t sound happy at all, not like how she was during her talk. It sounded like she might just explode at any given moment. “Is there a problem here?”, Maryanne said, with her arms crossed over her chest

“You are actually talking with those creatures? In front of your child no less?”, the woman stated loud enough to where they could hear her

Ellie heard those words and noticed the boys were looking sad and she walked up quickly towards her mother who was still confronting the couple. “They are not just creatures, they are living breathing beings that have a lot of heart and purpose”, Maryanne said, with her tone growing more tense by the second

“How could you think that something like that can have heart or purpose?”, the man said, laughing at her response

“What are you saying?”, Ellie asked, standing beside her mother sounding upset herself

“Those turtle things are freaks honey and you shouldn’t be talking to freaks”, the woman said, sounding all sarcastically sweet towards her

But she didn’t buy that not for one second and an angry look came to her face. “You are mean, and you are bullying our new friends, they didn’t do anything to you and you are being very mean”, she said “I thought people were suppose to be nice to each other and not make fun of or be mean towards someone else, we treat people nicely!

“How dare you say that about them? They may not look like any of us but that doesn’t give you the damn right to judge on their appearance. I may have just met these young fellows, but believe me they have more humanity and more heart than any individual person would have on this whole population on this planet. You seem to have no understanding whatsoever about the need to stop about discrimination, maybe you both should learn something about it”, Maryanne’s tone was firm but seemed to be calm and not rising

“You are actually okay with this?”, she asked, in disbelief

“Not only am I am okay with I would support anyone for who they are so yes”, Maryanne said with a firm nod “Your words must be hurting them to the core, this is who they are, let them be who they are”

“They are good people, why be mean to someone you haven’t even met? If that’s who they are and makes them feel special, then its okay”, Ellie said “Its okay to me”

The boys were stunned seeing this mother and daughter duo standing up against this couple and what was said next really blew their minds. “Well then you are just disgusting, teaching your daughter all of this, talking to these monster things and thinking that its okay”, the woman scoffed

That seemed to set Maryanne off making her look beyond angry and before she could say anything Ellie stepped forward in front of her. “You stop that now! They are not things and they are not monsters! You are! Both of you! Leave them alone! They don’t deserve this! If you can’t say something nice don’t say nothing at all!”, she said, pointing at them angrily “I think you both should leave”

“What my daughter said, they have probably heard worse things just as this and we are not going to stand around and just let that happen, not while we are here, I think both need to leave and don’t come back! Now!”, Maryanne was glaring too with her hands on her daughters shoulders

“You both are a waste of time”, the man said, as he and the woman scoffed leaving them alone finally

“So are you”, Ellie said, quietly looking at them before walking away with her mother following behind her. Walking back to their friends they were at loss of words of what just went down. At this point they didn’t know what just happened, they were not sure who stunned them more, the couple dishing out on them or a mother and a young child defending them and throwing it back in their faces.

“Man you guys just let them have it”, Mikey said, completely stunned

“Oh believe me, I have had worse confrontations, some of them I have almost gone to blows”, Maryanne said, as she sat back down in her spot

“Why did you stick up for us like that?”, Raph asked, sounding a bit baffled from this. Any of them would think that someone ridiculing them would join them in the hurtful bandwagon, besides April and Casey and Vern but to see these two sticking up for them was beyond.

“I believe that no one should be judged upon regardless of how you look, what background you come from, what religion you believe in or what things you love to do, if its what makes you special and happy than that is all that matters”, she said, with her sweet tone returning back “I feel if anyone is to receive discrimination of any kind, you never know that could be me”

Her words of wisdom touched their hearts and it was making that window of opportunity to change the world’s view on them much larger and that they will be praised like the heroes that they should be. With getting over the whole incident, they enjoyed the feast together and even playing a fun game of football with even the girls joining in on the fun and watching a show of fireworks when it was getting darker out as the bright lights lit up the beautiful night. Soon the festival was drawing to an end and families one by one were starting to leave the park to head home. The boys along with their friends were about to head home along with Ellie and Maryanne heading back to their condo across the other side of the park after saying their goodbyes to each other. Leo was gathering up the blanket when he felt a tug on his pants leg making him look down to see his little friend with a smile and more flowers were in her hand. “Hey Ellie, we had a really fun time with you guys tonight”, he said

“We did too”, she said, with a bright smile “I had a lot of fun, I am sorry that those people were saying mean things about you guys”

Her smile turned slowly into a frown. “Oh there is nothing to be sorry about honey, its not the first time we have heard something familiar”, he said “You were a very brave young lady in telling them what you said”

“I was always told you have to be nice to everyone you meet”, she said “My daddy before he passed away told me that if you always be nice to everyone the kindness will be given back to you”

“Well I thank you very much for standing up to what’s right, its not often we get that from anyone”, he said

“Maybe people should get to know you before they say something mean, they will see what a nice turtle you are and your brothers too”, she said, with a smile returning to her face

He couldn’t help but smile. “You are wise beyond your years”, he said, softly

“I get that a lot”, she said, with a giggle making him chuckle as well

“Ellie darling, come on!”, Maryanne called out

“Coming Mama!”, Ellie called back, looking back towards her before looking back to him “Bye Leo, I hope we can see each other soon”

“I hope we can too, it was certainly a pleasure in meeting you Ellie”, he said, with a loving smile

She ran up to him and hugged him tight around his neck and her little hug made him a bit startled at first but he hugged her gently in return. It last a few moments before she pulled away but not before taking one more flower from the bunch, this time a little blue one that matched his mask and placed it where she put the daisies earlier that he still kept in with a smile. But what she did next he wasn’t expecting at all by placing her little hands on his cheeks and kissing his forehead and she ran off to join her mother as she smiled down to her. Leo felt a warm feeling come over his heart as he watched her join hands with her mother and she looked back giving him a wave. He waved softly back as they disappeared over the clearing. This trip out again from the shadows went better than he could of ever thought and knowing that there was good ones out there and ones that would stand up against others who are not so open and would judge that maybe that there was more and that maybe more and more people will come to accept them for who they are. Breathing living beings with pure hearts.

#tmnt 2016 #tmnt fanfiction

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yourstateofdreaming · 7 years

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#6. Red Room Girls. Not Helping.

Red Room Girls Series. Previous | Next

Summary: You have a normal life as a fan of Marvel, you have seen the movies and imagined scenarios in which you were a part of the Avengers, met Bucky, joked with Tony, trained with Natasha, but one day this dream comes true in the weirdest way.

Have you hit your head or something? Becuase you seem to be in the MCU, not just that…it could be that you have been all along.

You walked further inside the ship until you found the others, Hawkeye was trying to make Natasha speak while she kept her eyes fixed on something that was not there in front of her.

Y/N’s body felt weak, her mind tired after being stretched to max capacity in order to show her the vivid images of who knew how long ago. Everything around her moved and it was difficult to focus on what she was looking at. The Avengers were silent, even your friend Mari was sitting there with her eyes scanning the floor.

Placing your hand on the wall for support, you turned to find Tony, he was not there, you noticed that he was gone and remembered that bit of the movie.

“We have to help Stak!” You said in a raspy voice.

“He’s on his own on this one,” Hawkeye commented.

You grunted and bowed your head, taking in a deep breath before blinking and forcing yourself to pull your shit together.

“Mari.” You said. “I need a lift.”

Mari was not listening, you looked up and dragged your feet to her.

“Fine, be like that.” You muttered and ignored the others when they gave you curious fuelled looks.

Her belt was filled with different sort of small metallic containers, you remembered seeing her work on machines, not her her, but her; so you knew that she had a thing to help you fly out of there in time to be of some use for Tony.

Kneeling next to her, you cupped her face in your hands and gave her a little smile in an attempt at comforting her. You then turned to the belt around her waist and started touching the metallic containers, they had little letters on them and various shapes but all of them were small and in some way round; except of course for the ones meant for cutting.

You turned to her face when you found the one you thought was correct. It was a set of two small metal handles. Mari’s dark brown eyes looked down at you, clouded by the aftermath of Wanda’s act.

“I’ll be seeing you… later.” You grabbed the handles and straightened up.

Finding an exit you squeezed each handle in each hand, extending your arms in front of your body, and turned to the wide nothing beneath you. With a sigh, you pushed a small button with your left thumb and small pieces of metal burst out of the little handles, you watched in awe as a small structure developed and you had yourself a little kite to fly in.

You stepped forward and your foot did not fall, instead, you were lifted up into the air and you started flying, calling out for Tony to know where to find him.

You did not know that you were going to find yourself landing in front of the green guy…Hulk was acting odd, it looked as if he was fighting someone when there was nothing but scared civilians running around to get under cover. The policemen were trying to contain him, but of course, all of their attempts only encouraged the rage of the Hulk.

“Hey, Mr Stark?” You said, unsure of how to proceed.

Your little kite was back to its original form in the shape of handles and you put it on your belt for future emergencies.

“Stay put, keep the people away from him.” He instructed you through the earpiece.

“Yes, sir.”

You sprinted to the nearest car and helped get the people of the vehicle while you tried to keep an eye on Hulk, he was coming your way and that meant that these people – a woman and her two little girls – were in danger. You ran with them inside a building and watched as the police arrived in a large reinforced vehicle. A big piece of metal fell on the ground right in front of Hulk, there in the middle of the street; you looked up and saw more of those metal pieces aiming down as well. He was surrounded and after a moment he was contained inside a strong metal capsule.

In your arms, the youngest of the girls you had just pulled out of the street moved and you turned to give her back to her mother with a small smile on your face as if to apologise for the trouble caused.

Once you saw the capsule, you started walking toward it, moving your feet in slow motions and forgetting about anything else but to do your best to help avoid a big mess for Dr Banner. Once you were only a few meters away, you heard something from inside; a loud banging announced that Hulk was not having it.

The whole thing collapsed when the ground sunk and everybody else dropped to the ground, while you shrank in place and Hulk appeared a few moments later, surfacing somewhere else.

The police started shooting and Tony landed near his friend in an enormous suit.

“Can you keep him away from the public?” You asked with a hand on your earpiece.

“We’ll see.” He said.

You watched the Hulk throw Tony around against buildings, sending him off and destroying everything in his path. You felt your heart sink when you remembered what happened in the movie, Banner would be devastated after this; you had to help stop him.

Without any hesitation, you ran to the tall building a few streets from where you were standing, it was still a construction site, only a couple of the first floors were finished. Tony was already using an elevator as a weapon and you knew you did not have much time.

“Everybody leave!” You called for all people to get out of their cars before the building was destroyed.

It was not a perfect solution, but maybe the impact on Dr Banner would be less, somehow the idea played out well in your head and you attempted to do your part. The ones who heard you did not listen, they were too distracted by what was happening in another building. The Hulk was thrashing Iron Man and everyone was staring in awe.

“People! It is dangerous!” You tried to warn them.

Only some left their cars, but it was too late, the building was starting to create a huge cloud of dust as it got destroyed by Tony pushing Banner through it. In the ground, the commotion was beyond anything else you had ever seen.

There were people screaming, crying, others who ran away from the wreckage. The noise was deafening and the looks of the people who lived in this place spoke a thousand words. It was a complete mess, a tragedy. This was not something you apologise for, and only now did you understand the gravity of the situation. Banner had to be held accountable for all of this.

Through the sound of sirens you forced yourself to snap out of it and helped people who stumbled and fell, they were so shocked with the events that they would trip over their own feet. There was confusion on every face you glanced at, fear too. Looking down you realized that there was a grey layer of dust covering your body, evident by the black colour of your suit.

Turning to look over your shoulder, you spotted the Hulk, Banner, looking around in confusion and then at last in shame.

Tony did not give him a second to react with anger again, he punched him and left him out while you wondered what the point was in you being there when you could do nothing to stop anything from happening the way it did in the movie you watched. All you wanted to do was help Banner, do something so he did not leave Natasha in the end…and you achieved nothing. You felt your shoulders drop when you thought about it; you could not even lead more than a handful of people to safety! What in the hell were you doing there? What was the point?

“You don’t look too good, Y/N…” Tony commented from inside his suit.

You did not lift your head, still staring at your feet with worry.

While Tony went to explain everything to the army men who rushed to the site, you looked at Banner, he had already turned back into his human self and was now in serious need of some clothes. All you could find, once you force yourself to stop feeling bad for yourself, was a blanket provided by one of the soldiers.

You wrapped the thin blanket around Banner’s body and helped him sit up when he was ready to do so with tired eyes.

The damage was done and all you could do was stand behind Tony while Banner processed everything that had happened. You stood back, not wanting to be a nuisance for Tony while he spoke to the police. Nothing seemed to be arranged, you simply walked away and went back to the jet with conflicted feelings brewing in your chest. It was silent the whole way, even when you met the rest, it was still quiet.

Tony started the engines and soon enough you were flying away from there. You were flying in stealth mode, even Maria seemed down from the way she spoke to Tony on the monitor up front. Hawkeye was the only one who did not get Wanda’s treatment, so he was driving while everyone else was sitting apart from anyone else. Mari was standing in the corner, staring at the ground with what appeared to be a clenched jaw.

“Captain…” You reached for him in a soft voice.

He was looking down at the floor, deep in his thoughts. You felt as if you were bothering him, but you had to tell him.

“Miss Y/L/N.” He said after taking in a deep breath.

He looked up and you found his blue eyes focused on you. A small smile formed on your face, and you looked down to avoid showing it to him, although he had seen in.

“I think I have to talk to you.” You said in a serious tone, “it’s about…well, maybe it’s not the time…” You admitted.

“What is it?” He wondered, arching an eyebrow.

“You know…the things you saw…” You hesitated, “I think I should explain…”

Steve put his hand up and stopped you from continuing.

“You don’t have to.” He declared with authority.

“But-” You took a step forward.

“It wasn’t real!” He looked you in the eyes. “It wasn’t real, Y/N.”

You nodded like a child who got yelled at. Steve did not yell, but he made you feel like an idiot for trying to talk to him. You closed your eyes and let your shoulders drop as you backed away from the super soldier.

You felt a sharp pain go up your spine and kept still for a moment.

There was something wrong, you could feel it. Your head started to hurt and you thought it could not be good, it was not like a regular “I need to sleep” kind of a headache, it was something that started from your spine and spread little by little like a heartbeat that kept getting stronger.

You tried to let it pass, sitting down for a minute. The silence left you wondering, so you turned to your hands and watched the scars on them as they turned a bright pink. Concerned, you looked up to see if anyone was looking. As nobody paid attention, you leaned forward and brought your hands to your knees in order to push yourself up, but something different happened.

“I can’t!” You yelled at him.

Your hands were sore from the last injections but it did not matter as you looked up at him from the mat on your hands and knees. His dark blue eyes did not move and he did not show any emotion, as usual.

He did not speak much, he was there to train you only. That day’s beating had you spitting blood and struggling to control the pain on your side each time your lungs were filled with air.

“Get. Up.” He pronounced each word separately.

You turned your head to the side. It was too much and they knew it. The gym was closed for everyone else; it was only the two of you and a group of scientists sitting on the other side of the room, close enough to watch.

It hurt, but you pushed your leg forward and pushed yourself up. There was a small stain of blood at his feet. It was yours. And it stained your bottom lip as well.

He threw his arm in the air and you dodged, he was quick to throw a kick that landed on your arm. You were pushed back and had to roll on your hurt side when he punched the ground with his bionic arm. You threw yourself at him, capturing him and trying to hold his metal arm to keep him from using it.

Your body went limp, even though you were conscious. You dropped to your knees and heard a loud ringing in your ears, which you could not cover because your hands were on the ground, holding you up.

Thor was the first to notice, he turned around and frowned. It seemed to him as if Wanda’s powers had a different effect on you as they had had on him.

He lifted you up in the air, twisting his arm out of your reach and then dropped you on the floor. Unable to move due to the pain in your back, he launched his arm at your face and this time the cold metal arm hit you.

“Uh!” You gasped.

As if the images you were seeing where happening, you fell back.

You rolled to avoid the second blow, he read you easily and pushed you on your back again, dropping his fist on your face once more. You did not even want to cry, but you wanted to do something before he could kill you. If this went wrong, you would go back to the academy and you did not like the prospect.

“Y/N?” Tony turned around from the front of the jet.

Clint looked over his shoulder for a moment.

“Well,” one of the scientists begun, “this was a complete waste of time.” The man stood up.

The others looked annoyed, although you could not see this as you stared up at the pale face of your trainer, his dark hair fell above his shoulders, his expression calm as he stared down at you. People did not know, you two were friends; he was tough but if he was not you would never learn. Even then you knew that you had screwed up by going for his arm, it had been crazy and desperate. He would break your arm before you could dislocate his shoulder. You should have trusted yourself and aimed for the other one, if you dislocated it he would be distracted, he would be the one making mistakes and you could then fight his bionic arm. You thought about all of this, while the men in their chairs spoke about “the project”.

He stared at you without moving an inch, his eyes called for a silent reprimand. “You should have done better.” But you were after all, nothing but a ballerina.

“Kill her.”

Your eyes widened when you heard those two words and arched your back at the sensation of hands gripping your neck.

“Y/N!” Steve called in a stern voice.

The team gathered, everyone staring, thinking that they must have looked like that when they saw the images that put them in such horrible states. Tony and Clint knew that it was nothing like that.

“Everything okay back there?” Clint yelled over his shoulder, not knowing what was happening.

“She’s having a vision,” Steve announced.

“No.” Tony shook his head quickly.

You coughed and gasped for air although there was nothing holding you. All you could see was your friend, the only man you trusted, choking you. He squeezed with his strong arms and you wondered why it was taking so long, if he wanted to, he could close his bionic hand and snap your neck…but he didn’t.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” Tony looked down at you while Steve leaned down.

“She’s choking!” Steve looked at you without knowing what to do.

You felt your legs start to give out and your body starts to relax as your sight started to go black. In the last attempt, you reached up and touched his human arm. In an instant, the hands let go of you and you saw images of his life inside the academy. Everything came in a rush and backwards until you saw him, as if it was yourself, lying on a bed and being treated with an electric machine.

At last, you screamed and pealed your hand off of his arm. He looked down at you in confusion and you crawled back, getting away from him until your eyes started to close involuntarily.

Steve reached out to grab you by the shoulders as you had relaxed and did not look as if you were struggling to breathe anymore.

You blinked and looked at his hand, snapping it away with your elbow.

“Get away from me!” You yelled.

You jumped on your feet and hid away in the corner, hugging yourself and breathing heavily, shutting your hands into fists. Swallowing tears you found your gloves again and put them back on.

#Red Room Girls Series #red room girls #Avengers #avengers age of ultron #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #captain america #steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #steve x reader x bucky #your state of writing

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ask-hunterxhunter · 5 years

Note

Can you some hcs on how Kite, Pariston and Ging would react to a drunk s/o? I don't see a lot of content on these boyos

Kite

Well, it depends on how you become when you’re drunk and even the situation. I mean, if a tragedy just happened, no one would blame you, least of all Kite. And regardless of anything, he wouldn’t leave you to take care of yourself for any reason, but it will affect how he deals with you later. It won’t change how much he cares for you, but don’t expect him to enjoy seeing you drunk off your ass, or find you screaming, becoming aggressive or laughing loudly a cute sight. Actually, far, far from it.

If you become obnoxiously loud (or worse, violent) when you’re drunk, Kite will drag you out of the restaurant or bar as fast as he can. If you’re both at home, he will just take your drink away and try to calm you down (he might not be as bothered then). Yes, Kite may not care much for people’s opinions, but that isn’t the same as being without manners to the point of not caring whether or not you’re bothering others.

He will be gentle and patient while taking care of you (in his own way), especially later when the hangover hits you, but he won’t sugarcoat what happened. How upset he gets will be in proportion to how much the alcohol affected you and if you two were at a restaurant, he will tell you he can’t believe you made such a scene. And later, when you get better, Kite will still be sincere: That was embarrassing!

Let’s make it clear that he won’t argue or try to humiliate you for this, he just wants to make sure you realize that you need to pay attention to your alcohol tolerance. If you assure him you either weren’t aware of it (having never drank before, for example) or got carried away, he will let it go. Kite is the kind of person that tells you when you’re wrong or doing something too stupid. If you want someone who will always make excuses or justify your acts, pick another person.

Again, despite how stern he can be when saying those things, he won’t be hurtful and he is saying this more out of concern for you rather than anything else. It might not be pleasant, but isn’t it better to have someone who loves you enough to tell the truth?

In the event of you being a more sentimental or melancholic type of drunk, the kind that mutters about past wounds or something that saddens you, he will be a little unsure about what to do (maybe pat your back with an awkward “there, there?”). Make no mistake, behind that serious face that seems to be wondering why can’t you shut up or what on Earth you’re blabbering about, Kite will be vowing to never let you drink again if it makes you unhappy.

He will figure that the best thing to do is to hear you out… If it’s something serious, he will treat it accordingly (and be extra gentle in his care), but if you end up upset for something a bit more “innocent” (how stray dogs/cats deserve love too, how you broke your favourite pen, etc), he will just stare at you while trying to decide whether or not to be sincere (“You do know it’s just a pen, right?”)… Then again, in your current state, you might not even listen.

He might be a little put off (especially if what is upsetting you is… Well, simply stupid) and still try to point it out or just resign himself to take you home/to bed upon seeing you’re not listening to reason at the moment while trying to wonder how your mind works when you’re drunk (confused doesn’t begin to describe what he is feeling right now). If you give him some sad eyes, he will probably wonder how you’re able to be cute when you are so absolutely hammered.

If when drunk, you just slur the words and gets a bit of vertigo, well, this is hardly the worst reaction. Kite may wonder how he ended up carrying you out of wherever restaurant/bar/party you were at and why he is trying to keep a conversation with you, since your good reason has obviously left the building for the moment (which might be fun for those watching, honestly). Oh, he will have a “I told you you were drinking too much, you little idiot” ready for you next morning (which won’t be said without some affection as he kisses your forehead).

In the event of you starting saying things without thinking, as long as it doesn’t get rude, it can either be strangely cute (and you can end up embarrassing him in a sweet way) or hilarious (and Kite will make sure to remind you of what you said once you sober up). You’ve always wanted to brush his hair, it looks so soft? Cue a slight blush and he trying to hide it. You’re on a tirade why it doesn’t make sense that Spongebob lives inside a pineapple? He can’t wait for when he can tell you about this just to see your red face.

Except with the first case, which we’ve already said can get him bothered, Kite will take care of you once you’ve had too much until he can put you to bed. The next day, he will have a herbal tea that is perfect for hangovers and while he may scoff at you (“Of course you feel like shit, I’m surprised you remember how to talk”), but it will be with that tsundere-like affection of his and while he looks serious as ever, his gestures and how softly he talks are what truly express his feelings.

Pariston

How Pariston reacts to you being drunk depends more on how he feels about you rather than how the alcohol affects you. Even he is not the type to leave someone drunk somewhere without a care, but this is more out of his sense of property and because he doesn’t want to risk his influence/reputation should anything happen to you. If he has real feelings to you, you’re no better off: There might be some protective sense in there, but don’t think it is a great part of it. Remember, it’s Pariston we’re talking about here.

How you get when you’re drunk doesn’t matter so much as how he can take advantage of it. Every information matters, whether he sees you as a toy, someone he can use for his own pleasure (no matter how) or if he has some feelings for you, in which case, Pariston will still seek to manipulate you. So, in every case, it’s not a good idea to get drunk near him because you’ll be exposing yourself or becoming vulnerable in some way, even if you’re the aggressive type.

Speaking of which, if you get loud or aggressive, he might subtly provoke you (in a way that makes you focus on someone else, of course) in order to better observe your reaction or for the fun of it (if you’re at a work-related party, for example, he might do so just to see you get fired, be for his own amusement or to make you more emotionally dependent on him by later playing the shoulder you can cry on). Regardless, he will find something useful about your state no matter what (for example, if you suddenly start speaking about a friend or relative and you’re getting angry, he will poke those feelings in order to make you angrier with them). And if you get aggressive with him, he will have a way of preventing damage, just like he will have a way of convincing you to go home if things seem to be about to get out of hand.

If you remember what happened and get ashamed, Pariston will take care of you in a way that makes you feel like you owe him or again, to strengthen whatever bond he has with you by playing the nice guy and he has proven over and over how well he can fool people.

Oh, you’re sentimental or sad when drunk? All he has to do is offer some well-chosen kind words, some sympathy and there you go, spilling your heart’s secrets to him. Even if it’s something relatively simple and innocent, he will still remember it and find a way to use it and if not, well, just holding you as you cry and being all kind can work to make a part of you associate him with gentleness and care. If you end up telling of past wounds or deeper sorrows, of course, it is even better. Oh, Pariston will seem the kindest of souls, full of understanding… But beneath the act, he is coldly taking notes of whatever you’re saying. And if he sees you as a toy he can break, he’ll have some passive-aggressive words and backhanded insults to make you feel as if you have nothing or no one but him. Hmmm… How much can he twist his little toy until it breaks apart?

Even with reactions that might seem “useless” for him (such as merely getting a vertigo or speaking nonsense) are not the safest ones, per say. Pariston is a great manipulator, so even if you’re just talking about how Saturn must be jealous of Earth because of the Moon or whatever, Pariston will guide the conversation to a more “interesting” field. And since alcohol can make people talk without thinking, he can also get you to tell him things you wouldn’t otherwise. As I mentioned, it is simply not a good idea to get drunk near this man.

Not that you’d normally think so if you’re not aware of his true nature: He is such a great guy and he helps you get home, insisting on taking care of you. You might even fall asleep with him whispering lovely words and wake up to a breakfast or warm tea, Pariston giving you the sweetest of smiles… How can he be planning to use what happened when he is so caring? Well, dear, that is what he doing. And even while he is “caring” for you it isn’t as genuine as you might think. If he has feelings for you, there might be something real in there, but it won’t make his actions less manipulative.

Everything he might do, from the tea to the words, the smile, just anything, is planned based on what he knows about you and what might be more effective for his manipulation, regardless of what his true objectives are.

Ging

Oh, Ging… Ging and relationships are not exactly simple, but this sort of thing is not the most complicated aspect, at least. Despite the usual dismissiveness that Ging displays in certain situations (coughcoughGoninhospitalcoughcough), he isn’t like this all the time. Remember he can become enthusiastic with whatever arouses his interest. He isn’t the kind that will tell you to cut it out when you’re drunk unless it starts to bother him (directly, most likely), so if he thinks whatever is happening is fun, he might just sit back and enjoy the show (unless something happens and his interference becomes really necessary, but if some friend of yours is nearby to take charge of the situation, he might prefer to let them do so. This is especially true if your relationship isn’t absolutely firm and serious yet).

That’s not to say he will just sit back and enjoy whatever happens when you’re drunk (unless he is also too drunk to care). If you’re alone and you become loud and in an “impulsive” mode (not to say playful, in a way), he won’t be bothered if he deems it fun enough. He might even find it cute, depending on what you’re doing (like having a blinking contest with your pet bird or screaming at nothing) and also if you’re not usually so spontaneous (it’s a nice change, he might say). Besides, you’re both at home, alone, so there is no harm.

If you’re in public or you become aggressive rather than merely impulsive, that’s something else entirely. Hey, if you want to fight, he’ll fight you as soon as you sober up, but for now, would you just sit down and let him have his own drink in peace? He won’t try to calm you down or try to take your drinks away, he is not your father. If you’re old enough to drink, you should be old enough to watch your own limits. People aren’t going to take care of you forever in life, you know? Yes, if you expect him to be the sympathetic lover/friend who helps you when you cross your limit, prepare yourself for disappointment. What Ging might do is got your back while you puke in a vase.

On the note of being in public, Ging might watch you get drunk until you can barely stand and then sigh in exasperation as if he can’t believe he has to help you go home. This is likely going to make some people consider him a jerk (people who care about others do take care of them), but it is partly because certain responsibilities (of relationships) and Ging don’t go well together and also because he doesn’t want to seem like a sentimental fool (he might actually enjoy you leaning on him for support, especially if you’re saying something he considers kinda cute).

Things don’t get much better if you become sentimental or sad. He isn’t sure of how to offer comfort (let alone when you’re drunk), but while some people like Kite at least give it a try, Ging might just say that you shouldn’t ever drink again, that whatever happened is in the past and getting drunk won’t change it. He doesn’t mean to sound uncaring (at least not if he cares for you as more than a simple fling), but isn’t that the truth? Ging isn’t just good with people crying, he just isn’t, so he tries to get them to stop by pointing out something realistic. It doesn’t help that even the bartender ends up glaring daggers at him for how much he sucks at this (pour the whisky in the glass and mind your own business, boy).

Ging is more comfortable if you’re crying over something silly. That he can deal with, nodding and agreeing, yeah, sure, whatever you say. It is easy to either dismiss it as what it is (drunk’s ramblings) or to listen for sheer amusement. You might start crying because Bambi’s mother died for all of him, at least he can nod and pretend to care while trying to not smile because you’re pouting.

Same goes for other possible nonsensical ramblings. Honestly, you could just look at whatever you’re eating and start to toss the greens/vegetables/whatever you’re not fond of away while muttering “Fuck them, evil little things, pretending to be innocent” or any other insanity and he will be incredibly okay with this, maybe even (trying) to keep a conversation. Again, it is far more amusing and easy to deal with than you becoming serious under alcohol’s influence (actually, same goes if you become too flirty with him. It’s not that he minds if you’re both alone, but if you’re in public, please refrain from getting all lovey-dovey with him).

Just getting a vertigo or slow speech isn’t quite amusing in his opinion, but it’s also something he can deal with, so it’s a preferable scenario. It’s simple, really, all he has to do is to help you get home while making sure you don’t trip.

When it comes to care, Ging prefers to be practical. He is used to take care of himself, not of others. Here is the tea, the hangover medicine and if you don’t like the way you’re head is killing you, then don’t drink so much next time… Sounds as if he couldn’t care less, until you whimper at how much your head is hurting and for crying out loud, can’t he speak at a softer tone? Then Ging will just tell you to get back in bed and rest until you feel better… Oh, and… Well, you said you liked chocolate when you feel bad, so he got some for you. His care is not in his words, but in his actions (he might not be good with those, either, but at least he is trying).

#Kite #Kaito #Pariston #Ging #Ging Freecs #drunk s/o #drunk headcanon #Hunter x Hunter #hxh headcanon #headcanon #drunk

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missbemaeve · 5 years

Photo

▷ new year’s eve, nineteen-eighty-three

let’s watch the old year die with a fond goodbye, and our hopes as high as a kite ( let’s start the new year right ; bing crosby )

saturday, december thirty-first, nineteen-eighty-three

— fourteen hours to midnight —

‘run.’

sitting bolt upright, maeve’s chest rose and fell heavily with her breath. her hands were shaking as her eyes darted around the room as if she was searching for the source of her stress. when it became obvious that she was alone in her room and there was no imminent danger, she lowered herself down, her head hitting the pillow with a dull thump. ’it was a nightmare. just a nightmare. you’re safe. you’re home and you’re safe.’ resting a hand on her stomach, she counted her breaths as her hand rose and fell with it. the trembling took longer to subside and she pressed a hand against her forehead, staring up at the ceiling. the nightmares that plagued her normally had managed to worsen in the past month. they felt real. she could remember the strain in the arch of her feet as she ran, the stabbing twigs and rocks that dug in to the skin there. the warm blood that had cascaded from her nose was familiar as she forced herself harder than ever before for the sake of her own survival. the raw skin on her wrists and ankles from where she’d been held still felt mangled and bruised. her tattoo felt like a hot scratch from a cat’s claw that had dug deep and permanently left its mark. trying to soothe herself, she laid there for what felt like minutes but seemed to be an hour as the shadows from the sun gradually shifted through the window.

her hand grazed over her ribs as it traced up and down, counting the bumps and ridges. in the months she’d been with mary and robert, her form had filled out once more. the baby fat she’d lost in the lab as she slowly became more emaciated had returned with structure. her lithe limbs had toned, her jaw sharpening to a severe angle. she no longer looked like the little girl she occasionally still felt she was.

a muffled whispering from outside her door caused her to lean up, propping herself on her elbows, her head turning towards the door. trying hard to isolate any words was a struggle, “…surprise…maeve…day…” she made a face, it was mary’s soft voice outside of her room. there was a gentle knock before she heard her mom’s voice clearly, “maeve?”

“…yeah?” she sat up completely, watching as the knob of the door turned. at once, three people entered the room and maeve let out a genuine laugh. mary, robert, and samuel wore matching party hats. samuel who was practically vibrating with excitement nearly knocked a plate carrying pancakes from mary’s hands as he ducked under her arms and ran to maeve’s bed. robert helped to steady the plate and gave an amused, reproachful look to the eager boy.

“happy birthday, magpie!” he shouted, mid-jump to her. opening her arms for a hug, he launched himself to maeve from where he’d landed.

it was her birthday.

“thank you.” her sleepy voice was soft, flooded with emotion.

it had been years since she’d celebrated her birthday. days ran together in the laboratory and her parents, even when sober, didn’t care much for small celebrations. she’d only ever had mornings like these when she’d spent holidays with her grandparents. her grandmother and grandfather would knock on the door and wake her up with a sweet breakfast because they said it was the best way to start a new year— or in maeve’s case, end an old one. her grandma eileen would sing and her grandpa evan would scoop her in to a big hug, his booming laugh echoing throughout the house.

robert gave her a tight hug before mary kissed her temple gently and handed her the plate. she felt the tears welling in her eyes— she knew she’d cried more in the past two months than in the entire two years before. maybe it was because her body finally felt that it was safe to do so, maybe it was because she’d finally been through enough. using her sleeve, she wiped her cheeks off and sniffled, pushing herself to sit up straighter. “love you.” mary said softly rubbing a hand over her shoulder as robert hoisted samuel up to leave maeve alone.

“i love you too.” she cleared her throat and gave a grateful smile. accepting the fork samuel had thrust towards her, nearly menacing as his excitement coursed through him.

“eat and then come down.” robert ruffled her hair affectionately with the hand on the arm that wasn’t restraining the ball of energy that was his son. “we’ll give you gifts before the party—“

“you guys really didn’t have to—“ maeve shook her head before she was cut off.

“can’t hear you!” robert called, jogging out the door and jostling samuel all the way, his laughs filling and echoing down the hall.

“you’re our daughter, maeve. you only turn seventeen once so let us do this for you.” mary cupped her face and gave maeve a warm smile that made her heart swell a bit. her kind eyes framed with shallow lines from age looked in to maeve’s and the guilt subsided, even if just a bit.

“okay.” she swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded, awkward and unsure, before using the fork to cut off and bite in to a piece of pancake. “thank you.” she whispered softly.

“always. come down when you’re ready.” mary tucked her hair behind her ears and kissed the top of her head before leaving the room.

sitting the plate on top of her thighs, maeve used the fork to gingerly cut and spear pieces of pancake. her appetite waning, she sat the morning confection on her bedside table and laid back. she’d give herself some time before going downstairs to see her family— she wanted just a little while longer to be by herself before the day really began.

she was seventeen.

seventeen years. fifteen years that had been spent treading water and two that had been spent in captivity. now a new one was due to begin. for the first time, it was full of possibilities. it was in her control. there would be no neglectful parents, no scientists prodding at her veins or measuring her brain or conducting experiments at the expense of her body.

she finally felt in control.

at the helm of the boat, she feared that she may sink it but at least it would be of her own volition. at least it would be no one’s fault except her own and, all at once, she was terrified and maybe a little bit eager to see what it held.

— three hours to midnight —

maeve cautiously walked in to the living room with the sinking feeling that she were on her way to the gallows rather than to a party celebrating her existence. she came to stand by the punch bowl, her hands gently smoothing over the satin-y, wine red cloth that covered a table. glancing up, her eyes scanned over the crowd before dropping down to see her shaking hands. large parties weren’t exactly what she enjoyed but her parents insisted on celebrating her first birthday with them. seventeen years and this was her first, real birthday party— she felt sick. her nerves were on fire between the crowd and the attention and the inevitable heartbreak of the night. eyeing one of the polished, empty champagne coupes, maeve decisively picked it up and filled it with boozy, effervescent bubbles before taking a long drag of it.

seeing it mostly drained, she filled it up halfway before stepping back, sheepish. thankfully the only person who’d payed any attention was andrea peterson, who gazed at her friend with a knowing look as she took a conservative sip from her own drink. “are you alright?” her voice was just audible over the music that her father had carefully curated for the evening.

“i don’t know.” she sighed. she tapped her nails on the side of her class, watching the bubbles dance from the bottom of the glass to the top as the soft, staccato sound reached her ears. “i just wish today didn’t have to come.”

“but it’s your birthday—“ andie was swiftly cut off by maeve’s sharp glance that quickly softened out of guilt.

“i know.” she exhaled. taking another long sip of her champagne, she was grateful her parents allowed her drinking on this holiday. she suddenly noticed how warm her skin felt as it brushed against the black, satin dress that enrobed her form. while the neckline was shallow and covered what little cleavage maeve had, the back was more daring. it plunged below her shoulder blades before scooping back up to meet at the other sleeveless shoulder. at her waist rested a bow, its blackness blending in with the rest of the dress, where it flared out just past her hips and fell like a dark waterfall above her knees. it fit her like a glove— it may have been the most beautiful dress she’d ever worn. fashion was not a luxury typically afforded to those in captivity.

“nancy is coming tonight.” maeve swiftly changed subjects from her own well-being. “and i’m sure she’s bringing steve so—“ andie made a noise of protest that maeve stifled with only a glance and a cocked brow. “just ignore him. please? for me?” andie continued looking less than impressed until the defeat behind maeve’s eyes broke her.

“fine.” with a roll of her eyes, andie relented.

“thank you.” clinking andie’s glass with her own, maeve gave a small smile and took a sip.

over the past half an hour, maeve had watched a wide variety of people that she only half-knew fill in through the house and lazily move around the rooms. the opening front door called her to attention and she felt her blood and skin chill when she saw a familiar man closing the door behind him, careful not to allow much heat to escape. ‘does he have to be so considerate?’

fight or flight? fight or flight? fight or flight?

‘freeze.’ she swallowed, her heart pounding.

she knew james wouldn’t miss tonight. he’d been a driving force behind the decision to have a party along with her parents as he repeatedly told her that she deserved to be celebrated. nothing felt further from the truth at the moment. she could feel andie’s eyes burning in to her as she tilted her head back and swallowed the remaining drink before setting her glass down just a moment before james spotted her. andie opened her mouth to make a quip at her hasty ingestion of alchohol but quickly silenced herself when her eyes traced maeve’s line of sight.

maeve’s brows were drawn together, unsure of how to proceed. james raised his hand in a half-hearted wave and maeve did the same. both wore an identical expression hidden just beneath their small smiles: heartbreak. in only a few short strides, he made his way over to the girls. “hey.” his deep voice was as soft as the expression behind his eyes.

“hey.” maeve swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked up at him. she almost wished he wasn’t here. “thank you… for coming tonight.”

he wrapped his arms around her in a hug. her cheek pressed against his chest and she wished the circumstances were different. her fingers gripped in to the soft fabric of his black sports coat, her eyes squeezed shut as if she were trying to transport both of them away from here. he squeezed her gently and her arms tightened around him in response.

andie took a sip from her glass, averting her eyes from the intimate moment but unsure of her next course of action. maeve had thoroughly explained the situation to her and the two had gone through every viable option. every time that they worked through it, maeve came back to the same result. andie was well versed in the twisted dance that the two were doing. “hi james,” andie mumbled in greeting, her eyes staying low. “i’m gonna go over there.” she nodded to the other side of the house and without another word or waiting for a response, andie made a beeline for a small group of their acquaintances.

maeve and james remained in an embrace that she wished would last until the world imploded. reluctantly, she pulled away, smoothing down the wrinkles that had formed in the static-laden fabric before wringing her hands. she didn’t know what to do next.

“happy birthday.” as he spoke, james drew a small box from his pocket. it was adorned in the same paper as the gift he’d given her at christmas but was shaped just a little differently. unconsciously, her hand drifted to her chest where the locket rested, searing in to her skin. he offered it to her without another word.

she hesitates, the guilt rising. “you really didn’t need to bring me anything.” maeve shook her head, willing herself not to cry. she accepted the small gift as he continued to hold it out to her with no intention of taking it back.

“you only turn seventeen once.” he smiled sheepishly and pushed his hands back in to his pockets once she took the gift. he had to stop himself from reaching out to her.

“thank you.” she paused, things shouldn’t have felt so strained yet they did. trying to focus on anything aside from how she felt, she pushed away her emotions in favor of attempting to be a good hostess. “would you like a drink? i can get you one. we have champagne, soda, water, and punch although i’m not sure what’s in the punch.” she tucked a curl behind her ear, avoiding eye contact as she turned to busy herself with adjusting the tablecloth and brushing aside nonexistent lint. james’ habit of talking when things became uncomfortable had rubbed off on maeve.

“maeve…” he trailed off. watching maeve struggle to keep him at arm’s length sent a pain to his chest. reaching out, he took one of her cold hands in his own. maybe if he could just reach her, she’d stop. ‘maybe she’d change her mind.’ maeve knew there was so much more that he wanted to say to her— the way he said her name felt like the walls of a building crumbling around her, trapping her inside with no light and little air left to breathe.

“james.” she responded simply, whispering his name sadly like a prayer that she knew wouldn’t come true. he laced their fingers together and traced his eyes up her arm to land on her face. they’d gravitated closer as they spoke; he was close enough to count the light freckles that were peppered across her nose and cheeks. tilting his head down, he rested his forehead against her’s. maeve’s eyes drifted shut as she savored the feeling, his doing the same in response.

“do you want to talk?” he murmured, their lips only inches apart. to anyone else, they looked like an affectionate couple that couldn’t be torn apart, like they needed one another like they needed oxygen. that was true for now but they both knew that was no longer going to be after tonight. she could feel his warm breath on her lips and a shiver ran through her body; he was invading her senses and the thoughts in her mind were swirling like the snow flurries outside. if she moved just an inch, his lips would be on her’s— where they belonged and where she wanted them to stay. maeve wanted nothing more than for time to stop for everyone except them. in a vacuum, they could live and die; their lives could be spent tangled in the other’s.

the sound of the front door opening broke her from the trance. just before his lips could caress her’s, maeve turned her face to the side, james’ lips just barely touching the skin on her jaw. her breath came out in a shaking tremble. squeezing her eyes shut tighter to stop any tears in their track, she paused before they opened reluctantly, his following in suit. the interruption came in the form of alice and brendan, cameron and morgan, and steve and nancy entering the house in pairs, each’s presence only punctuated by a moment before the next’s appearance. stepping back, she squeezed his hand gently and forced away tears that threatened to appear. “i really do,” she made sure to look in to his eyes earnestly, not wanting him to think she was lying or avoiding the conversation that neither wanted to face. but perhaps she was? “but i can’t right now.” maeve spoke shakily, pressing her lips together in a flat line to hide the way they quivered, trying not to break.

“i know.” james exhaled, looking more broken than she felt as he nodded in understanding. he glanced over to everyone before his eyes came back to her, the beautiful coffee eyes that she knew so well. she could drown in them if he let her. maeve reached a hand up to rest on his cheek and his own came up to cover her’s. as if he wanted her to leave it there forever. or maybe he was memorizing the feeling like she had before. james closed his eyes to savor the feeling and maeve felt a pull in her stomach. she stood on her toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his scruff-covered cheek, inhaling his peppery, warm cologne before she stepped back. james gave a small nod and let her hand go with a soft squeeze, ending the tender moment despite neither of their wishes.

alice and brendan greeted her excitedly and james watched as maeve transformed before him. her back was straighter and her movements more natural, but her smile still didn’t quite reach her eyes. the same pang in his chest returned; he knew that she was burying her feelings in a lead vault that was deep underground in a place devoid of warmth or light and he didn’t know if she’d ever stop.

— two hours to midnight —

‘wool tights do nothing against the cold.’ maeve remarked to herself. she sat on the porch swing, just slightly out of the line of sight from those inside. her coat enveloped her in a layer of warmth and she burrowed down in to it slightly. pulling a thin cigarette from her pocket, maeve twirled it between the fingers of one hand, a lighter held limply in the other. she’d slipped them from her dad’s coat just a little while earlier. she didn’t know what possessed her to do it but she had done it anyway. maeve’s hand fell to her lap when she heard a voice come from the doorway.

“hey! i’ve been looking all over for you.” as andie took a seat beside maeve, she plucked the cigarette from her hand and gave her a reprimanding glare before breaking it in half and handing it back to maeve without a word on the subject— as much as andie wanted to support maeve through this spiral, she had to draw a line somewhere in the sand of her self-destructive nature. maeve rolled her eyes and shoved it back in to her pocket. while grateful andie was watching over her, she was still mildly indignant at the action. the champagne had long since worn off and left the dregs of sadness swimming in the shallow basin of her soul. crossing her arms, she rested her back against the cold, wrought iron. despondently, she looked out in to the dark blue night. “are you having a good time?” andie was hopeful maeve could still enjoy herself despite everything.

a snort broke through maeve’s stony exterior. they both knew she wouldn’t have even acknowledged the question had it come from anyone aside from her best friend.

“i know it’s rough.” andie said sympathetically as she wrapped her arms around the smaller brunette tightly. for a moment, they shared one another’s warmth in a comfortable silence. maeve closed her eyes, letting the quiet wash over her. the party, the guests. the gifts. the attention. it was all too much. after a few minutes, andie spoke again, carefully choosing her words. “i get that things blow right now. the circumstances suck…but, look on the bright side!” andie held maeve at arm’s-length, squaring her shoulders to look at her straight on. “it’s your birthday. this day only comes once a year. and this is probably the best birthday party, if not party, that i’ve ever been to.” andie gave her a small shake, grinning. maeve knew she was trying to distract her from the inevitable heartbreak of the night ahead.

in response, maeve forced a smile on to her face and tried to appease andie. “thank you.” her voice was soft.

“so, can you try to be happy? just for tonight?” maeve knew andie just wanted her to be happy but the words stabbed at her nonetheless. “tomorrow, we can go back to eating ice cream by the carton at benny’s, lamenting every person who has ever done us wrong. i promise.”

but she hadn’t been wronged— if anything, she was doing james wrong by hurting him in this way. she finally broke the silence after swimming in her thoughts, “i can try.” she exhaled, andie’s smile making her apprehensive. “but i make no promises.”

andie dropped her hands and rolled her eyes affectionately. she reached up to tousle her voluminous, blonde curls that seemed to have a mind of their own this evening. “is there anything that i can do to make you feel happy? just to smile right now?” andie sighed, watching as maeve stood and walked to the porch railing.

“i don’t know…” she tilted her head back, looking up to the sky like she was asking the blinking stars for answers, before considering her response. she turned on her heels, balancing gracefully on the stiletto’s edge as if she were a trained dancer. there was a pause as crickets and muffled pop music filled the air when a mischievous smirk found its way to maeve’s lips. “i mean, you can tell brett that you were the one to turn him in.” maeve tapped her nails on the porch railing behind her, an eyebrow cocked as if daring andie to defy her.

the blonde’s porcelain face flushed deeply and she looked around nervously to see if anyone had heard one of her deepest secrets. “maeve!” she hissed, “you know i can’t do that.” her jaw was clenched as if someone inside would be able to read her lips and deduce the conversation that the two girls were having.

maeve looked at her reproachfully and sighed. “you can.” she implored, staring at andie who avoided the burn of maeve’s brown eyes. “i know you don’t want to but i really think that you need to.” she crossed her arms, pursing her lips to the side, her eyes narrowing. “you guys have been on…what? three dates now?”

“they weren’t dates.” andie is curt, her eyes still everywhere aside from meeting maeve’s. the conversation felt personal and mildly embarrassing and maeve could tell she wanted it to be over.

“they what were they?” maeve shot back, her hands on her hips. a smile tingled on her lips as she anticipated andie’s response, fully aware that andie knew that maeve was right.

“just— two friends. hanging out. platonically.”

maeve rolled her eyes, “all of the kissing that you’ve told me about doesn’t sound too platonic.” the smile grew as she nearly forgot about her own problems for just a moment. when they came back to her, her face fell and she barely heard andie’s response.

“that’s irrelevant information.” shaking her head, andie looked down.

the electricity in the air shifted as maeve’s heart grew heavy once more. it had ebbed and flowed but it seemed that, lately, the tide didn’t seem to go out and she’d soon drown as it kept rising. “i’m just saying,” maeve’s voice cracked as she started before clearing her throat. “i’m just saying that i think it’s smarter if you just tell him now rather than later. save the drama.” she walked back to sit beside andie on the swing, crossing one leg over the other. “especially before you guys dive in to anything serious. it wouldn’t be right for either of you.”

her conviction grew out of her own relationship. what used to be beautiful, she now saw as a cautionary tale— one of deceit while reasoning that the lies weren’t maleficent. if james had known the target that was painted on maeve’s back, would he still have chosen her? would he have run in the opposite direction? maybe he could have been spared from the fallout that came from this inevitable implosion.

andie broke, finally looking over at maeve. seeing her broken expression, andie’s shoulders fell. “alright. alright, fine.” she acquiesced then paused. “but only because it’ll make you happy.”

“thank you.” maeve responded simply, reaching her hand over to give andie’s a light squeeze. she know andie wouldn’t do it— she wouldn’t jeopardize the possibility of a flourishing relationship. maeve couldn’t insist enough that she didn’t want andie to make the same mistake she had; to, in essence, build a relationship from the unstable foundation of a lie. “love you.” she said simply, almost absent-mindedly.

“love you too.” andie’s hand squeezed in response. while something was ending tonight, maeve was grateful she had andie. the sinking fear of andie’s safety still plagued maeve’s mind but she couldn’t lose two of the most important people in her life on the same night. she didn’t know if she could ever recover from that.

a red ferrari rumbled down the block, slowing to a stop beside the curb in front of maeve’s home. she had to refrain from rolling her eyes at the ostentatious sports car. she heard the car before she saw it and leaned over to andie, whispering, “speak of the devil.”

brett li, clad in slacks and a matching sports coat, stepped out of his car and sauntered to the porch where the best friends were sat. he was fully aware of the entrance he was making; maeve likened him to a peacock. flaunting his wares to get the hen.

“hi brett.” andie stood, suddenly acting shy. maeve watched on in amusement.

“hey, how are you?” he embraced the blonde, holding her close like he was protecting her from the bite of the cold wind.

as andie mumbled something in response, maeve rose with the intent of going inside. while she was happy for andie, seeing this burgeoning relationship as maeve’s came to an end hurt. brett let go and turned to maeve who stopped in her tracks. “hey, brett. thank you for coming.” she half-smiled politely. the two hadn’t exchanged many words but had been kind to one another— mostly for andie’s sake on both of their parts.

“hey. of course. happy birthday.” from his pocket, he produced a small box covered in gold, metallic paper and offered it to her. “it’s not much but i got you a little something.”

maeve accepted it, surprised. “oh, uh. brett, you didn’t have to do that.” she looked down at the gift in her hands. despite it being her birthday, she hadn’t actually expected anyone to bring her gifts, especially not brett li of all people. they were friendly but maeve would hardly call him a friend yet.

“and come empty-handed to a birthday party?” he chuckled, “i’m not that kind of guy. like i said, it’s nothing special. just something to celebrate.” he depreciated his actions and gave a small shrug.

“well, thank you. you’re too sweet.” she gave him a quick hug, standing on her toes like she had to with james. she stepped back, still holding the gift awkwardly.

brett turned and placed a hand on andie’s shoulder, “hey, i’m gonna go inside. want me to grab you a drink?” she watched as andie’s cheeks tinged red further from the boy than the cold.

“i’d love that, i’ll be right in.” giving brett a smile, andie’s eyes followed him as he walked in the door and through the throngs of people.

as soon as the tall boy was out of their visual field, maeve gave a short, sharp nudge to andie’s rib with her elbow, “oh, come on! now you have to tell him otherwise we’ll both look bad.” she glared at andie who looked away sheepishly. she realized that she may be the pot calling the kettle black as she pushed andie to spill her secret to the party involved in it while maeve remained silent, keeping many of her own. she hated the weight she bore and wouldn’t wish it on anyone— especially her best friend.

“okay, okay! fine! i will. jeez!” andie let out a laugh but maeve knew that as soon as andie saw the handsome, dark-haired athlete, she’d lose all intentions to tell him the truth. when andie thought maeve wasn’t looking, her eyes drifted longingly towards the doorway where brett’s silhouette had just been housed. “you’ll be okay if i go inside for a bit, won’t you?”

maeve nodded, taking a deep breath of the bracing air. it filled her chest and chilled her lungs deep within. “totally. i think…i need a moment for myself anyway.” a sad smile rested on her face and andie’s brows drew together, wishing there was more she could do aside from support maeve through her pain.

“alright, just find me if you need me. or i’ll find you later.” andie nodded before embracing maeve who responded half-heartedly to the tight hug that pushed the air from her lungs. maeve’s chin rested on andie’s shoulder where her senses were invaded by the familiar cotton candy body splash. this hug could have been for either of the two girls. “i love you so much, mae. things are gonna work out.” in truth, andie didn’t know if she was saying it because she believed it or because she needed it to be true. pulling away, andie’s hands trailed down maeve’s arms before giving a light squeeze when sad brown eyes met green. “it’s gonna be a good year. promise.”

bittersweet and heartbroken, maeve was only able to bring herself to give a whisper of a smile as she responded, “i love you too, andie.” in truth, she couldn’t make herself respond to the idea of things working out or the insistence that the year that lay ahead would be good— it hurt too much. with one last look, andie entered the house and shed her coat before carefully hanging it on the crowded coat rack and going on the hunt for brett.

maeve chewed on her lower lip as she turned the small gift over and over in her hand. if she did it anymore, she would tarnish the gold paper. it was nearly ninety minutes to midnight and each tick of the clock felt like years lost. she closed her eyes, tilting her head up, squaring her jaw, and swallowing the warm tears that rose. she couldn’t help but fear they’d freeze to her face out here while exposed to the elements. she felt sick, her stomach flipping like an olympic gymnast doing their floor routine. it was aggressive and unending. when she opened her eyes, the nausea passed and the snowy cold came back to her once more, her awareness piqued.

exhaling, maeve allowed herself to muffle her feelings. the familiar static numbness coursed through her body like a lazy current in the ocean as she concentrated on her goal. she was uncertain whether she could make it through the evening while feeling everything so deeply. the emotions dampened as if she’d insulated them under wet blankets. pasting a smile on to her face, maeve stood and walked through the front door with her shoulders back— out of the frying pan and in to the fire.

— one hour to midnight —

the sharp clinking of metal gently hitting glass easily broke the animated conversations that carried throughout the party. maeve looked up from where she sat with alice and brendan and saw her aunt and uncle— mom and dad— waiting for everyone to slowly quiet themselves so they could speak. maeve felt her face turn several deep shades of maroon when robert’s eyes found her, his roguish grin spread wide. in mary’s hand was a plate with a cupcake centered upon it. stuck ceremoniously in to the large swirl of frosting was a tapered, gold birthday candle. she’d begged them not to have a cake or make a fuss; maeve hadn’t even wanted gifts but they’d insisted on a true party.

“so, happy new year.” robert called out, everyone’s attention settling to him as a hush fell over the partygoers. his smile didn’t fade. “maeve didn’t want me to do this but what kind of dad doesn’t want to embarrass their daughter as publicly and loudly as possible.” her shoulders shook with a silent laugh, the blush going nowhere. “we really just wanted to say happy birthday, magpie.” he angled his glass towards her, his smile softening when he used the childhood nickname that he’d been the one to bestow upon her.

she felt tears spring to her eyes, her chest rising and falling with a sniffle. as a child, she’d always been a little daring and a fighter. she’d had to be when her parents left her so often to fend for herself. anything she was told that she couldn’t do, she took as a challenge. once when she’d been staying with mary and robert on a visit to indiana, robert had caught her as she threw herself from the top of the slide on a playground, insistent that she’d fly and be fine once she was in the air. he knew mary would smite him if he brought his niece home with stitches and bruises. she had sent them away while she was finishing dinner. a young maeve with a missing bottom tooth, two long braids, and dark freckles speckling her face had laughed and laughed as her uncle spun her around. once her feet had been set gently upon the ground, he’d commented that she was like the extremely intelligent, dive-bombing birds that he’d come across in asia. from then, it stuck. as they walked from the playground back to her aunt and uncle’s house, she’d begged him to tell her all about the birds. after dinner, he’d found the information about the bird in the encyclopedia and read it to her as she fell asleep. aside from robert, and by extension samuel, no one ever really called her magpie.

“we’re so glad you’re here and we love you.” there was so much more beneath those words than anyone else knew and she gave a teary-smile as they approached her. robert offered a hand for her to stand which she took, her embarrassment growing as all eyes from the party landed on her. a hundred eyes pointed in her direction and she felt her entire body grow warm. “happy birthday, maeve.” he raised his glass and all those who had glasses did the same, murmuring the words before sinking back their drinks.

mary held the cupcake up to her level and watched maeve affectionately. “make a wish!” she implored as maeve sniffled once more, still smiling at her aunt. she closed her eyes and allowed everything to fade away for a moment before her lips puckered and she blew a short, steady stream of air that extinguished the candle. brought from her reverie by the claps of her guests, she watched as the smoke curled and drifted away. mary offered the confection to her but maeve shook her head, opting to hug her tightly first before turning to robert and doing the same while mumbling her appreciation.

“thank you.” using the back of her finger, she brushed under her lashes, ensuring the tears hadn’t smudged the kohl liner down her face.

“always, honey.” mary smiled before she nodded towards the crowd, silently telling maeve to mingle while she and robert went to do the same.

taking a deep breath, maeve turned and let her eyes scan across the crowd. it was inadvertant but the guests were divided up by factions of maeve’s life. her best friends, her acquaintances from school, her parents’ friends from work, the parents of other teens in hawkins all stood apart, interacting within their own group as the night progressed, flowing together but never mixing like a slick of oil on top of water. she flitted around to each group, socializing; thanking the adults for attending and answering questions about how school was going or what she was going to do with the rest of her holiday break, laughing with her close and more distant friends from hawkins high school. it was exhausting.

excusing herself from another conversation, she swung by the drink table and picked up another coupe of champagne. maeve was finally alone with her thoughts and, for that, she was ungrateful for the time left to ruminate on her decisions— all she’d been able to focus on was the impending implosion of her relationship. drawn from her thoughts by a hand on the small of her back, she turned to see james. she was finally able to take him in for the first time since their awkward talk when he had arrived earlier; his broad shoulders easily filled out his coat, his large hand dwarfed the dainty champagne coupe.

“hey!” maeve gave a small smile which was returned in kind; her breath hitched in her lungs. she was grateful that james wasn’t angry, and that he’d even shown up tonight. she wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d chosen to stay home but she knew he would have never missed this.

“hey.” james nodded, dropping his hand from her. as it came to rest by his side, he awkwardly opened and closed it in to and from a fist multiple times. it was like he was trying to rewire his brain; what she wanted, he’d give her. if she didn’t want to be together, if she found someone else. if it was time or space or if she wanted the world, he’d give it to her if he could.

it wasn’t as if she could miss him; he was right in front of her but she felt like she was a million miles away. searching for something to talk about, maeve felt lost before she settled on observing what was tangible rather than how she felt. “so, you got some champagne?”

“yeah, your mom kind of shoved it in my hand after she caught me getting a glass of water.” running a hand through his shaggy hair, he chuckled and shrugged.

“yeah, she’s kind of big on celebratory things.” maeve took a long sip of her own drink, her eyes staying on him.

“i never would have guessed.” he deadpanned, looking around the bustling room, his eyes sparkling as they took in the decorations and food, the music and people that laughed and danced and talked about the past three hundred and sixty-five days. his eyes landed on maeve and he gave her a crooked smile, her favorite smile of his. she laughed softly in to her glass, looking down at her feet before looking back up to meet his eyes. clad in pumps, it was strange to be so much closer to james’ height despite him towering over her by six inches rather than the usual ten. between andie and her mother, maeve’s ankles hardly stood a chance when put up against the torture devices on her feet.

“do you—“

“i—“

the two both stopped, talking over one another. there was a moment of silence before they both laughed awkwardly. there was still a current of electricity that ran between the two. finishing her drink, maeve sat the glass down before she crossed her arms over her midsection. she gave him a small nod, “you first.”

“i was just going to ask...if you maybe wanted to dance?” he nodded towards the crowd of people gathered in the middle of the living room. the standish family’s normal furniture had been pushed aside to the walls to leave room for mingling throughout the evening. the upbeat music was pumping out through the speakers, filling the small space.

maeve drew her lower lip in, trapping it between her teeth. what would the repercussions be? what would andie say? what about her parents? would he think she changed her mind? before she could talk herself out of it, she nodded. it was like their last hurrah. as the bouncing drums from ‘modern love’ beat, james sat down his glass and offered his hand with a grin. maeve couldn’t help but respond in the same way as he pulled her to the middle of the room— it was her party after all. blushing as he twirled her out under his arm then pulled her close, maeve giggled when james began mouthing the words along with the song. tilting her head back, maeve laughed in full as they spun and swayed. her teased curls were ruffled from the motion and her cheeks had turned a merry shade of red from the laughter and excitement; he looked as thoroughly happy as maeve did, grinning down at her. when the song came to a close, it felt like things were okay. for just a moment, she allowed herself to forget the future.

as she took several deep breaths from the laughter and dancing, her smile gradually faded as she remembered where she was and what she was doing. under his palms, he felt maeve’s muscles tense and he gently rubbed her back with his thumbs trying to smooth out the knots; he would do anything for her not to leave right now. the two heard the telltale clicking and static as the vinyl switched to the next automatically. in the silence, he smiled down at her before tucking a curly tendril behind one of her ears; her small smile thanked him wordlessly.

a gentle, strumming acoustic guitar broke the silence and filled the air around them. the slow melody made maeve want to run; it felt far too intimate and she felt bare in front of him. more so than she wanted to run, she wanted to stay in his arms for as long as she could. as if james knew, and he always did, he pulled her closer. maeve delicately rested her head against his chest; she could feel his warmth radiating through his black shirt and coat. one of her arms crawled up his chest and came to rest on his shoulder like a slowly creeping vine. she felt him take the other in his hand. maeve pressed her eyes shut, forcing herself to breathe. in. out. in. out. in. out. she felt one of his hands span across her hip and his chin come to rest on top of her head.

‘if i should stay, i would only be in your way.’

as the soft warble of dolly parton’s lyrics came from the speakers, it felt like a knife had been stabbed in to maeve’s stomach. her insides clenched tightly and she was grateful that james couldn’t see her face. of all of the music her dad had chosen tonight, why this song? why right now? it was like she couldn’t get a break from the universe; she wanted to run but her feet carried her nowhere, opting instead to stand in james’ embrace and sway.

‘so i’ll go, but i know: i’ll think of you each step of the way.’

while the short chorus played, she heard james clear his throat, his hand on her hip gripping just a bit tighter than it had before. she could feel his touch burning in to her skin and had no want to soothe it. maeve was certain that if she were to look up and meet his eyes, she’s find the same tears that were stinging her own— like dark embers from a fire fading under water.

‘bittersweet memories, that’s all i am taking with me. goodbye, please don’t cry. we both know that i’m not what you need.’

maeve had thought those words with repetitious vigor over the past two weeks. ‘i’m not what you need. i’m sorry for hurting you but i am not what you need.’ when dolly began declaring she’d always love someone for a second time, maeve felt the dam holding her tears finally give way and break. a spot on his shirt gradually soaked through to his skin but she couldn’t force herself to stop; her shoulders shook gently with the sobs and she felt him pull her closer as if he could protect her from herself. maeve could feel all of the tension in his body while he struggled not to do the same. she felt cruel. she was the one who was choosing this and he was the one that was going to be left to deal with the aftermath. like a natural disaster, maeve felt like she left chaos in her wake wherever she went. james shouldn’t have to be the strong one, not this time, not when she had forced his hand.

‘i hope life treats you kind and i hope that you have all that you ever dreamed of. and i wish you joy and happiness, but above all of this, i wish you love.’

the spoken words pulled maeve from her thoughts and she finally brought herself to pull her head away from his chest and tilt her head back to meet his eyes.

‘and i will always love you.’

two broken people stared at one another and maeve felt her chest collapse. there was a beat before james dropped his forehead to rest against her’s. she squeezed her eyes shut once more, pained at the circumstances, pained at the devastation painted across his face. as the final chorus drew to an end, the two had stopped swaying all together. they stood still, tight in an embrace, in the sea of party guests. amidst all of the other couples, no one paid them any attention; they didn’t look like anyone special. by the end, it was hard to tell which tears came from whose eyes as they merged like tributaries to the sea while they allowed themselves to cry for what they were due to lose.

even when the song ended and another began, neither moved. maeve sniffled, opening her exhausted, stinging eyes finally. the chocolate irises were surrounded by redness but, when they found contact with each other, she noticed that james’ eyes looked no better than her’s felt. his hands came up to cup her face, gently brushing her tears away with his thumbs. she gave a silent sob as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before taking a step back, his hands ghosted over her shoulders and down her bare arms, their fingers brushing before he no longer touched her at all.

like a tide’s ebb, maeve felt the panic that had receded come to the surface once more and the walls felt like they were pushing in on her. “i need to— i’m going to get some water.” she nodded and stood straighter, brushing her hands over the skirt of her dress. “i’ll talk to you in just a bit.” she tried and failed to give some semblance of a smile and maeve felt her voice crack. ducking her head to avoid his eyes, she turned to leave the room. there was a clear path to the empty kitchen and maeve followed it, her breathing strained as she tried to keep herself pieced together in front of her guests.

nearly across the threshold, maeve felt a small hand dart out to take her’s. her stomach lurched as her head twisted to face the person quickly, their grip going slack when they noticed her apprehension. nancy wheeler’s straight, full brows were drawn together in worry, her eyes soft as she saw the redness in maeve’s eyes and face. “hey, are you alright?” a frown graced her delicately angled features. in her peripheral vision, she saw steve harrington shift his weight on his feet, clearly uncomfortable as he struggled to speak or stay quiet. he knew maeve and andie were best friends; she didn’t think there was a person in hawkins that was unaware of the fact. the history between the popular boy and the future valedictorian was icy at best and he, rightfully, didn’t know where he stood with the new girl in town.

she knew nancy in passing— they had class together, they’d worked together on projects and talked in the hall but the one thing that had bonded the two was something neither spoke about. the monster that had appeared in the byers’ home with steve, jonathan, james, nancy and herself was something that had not left a corner of her mind unoccupied since she saw it. “oh! i’m fine— i think i just got some glitter in my eye. or like an eyelash or something...” she struggled to give a small laugh, waving her off. she saw steve open his mouth and she cut him off before he even had a chance to speak, “thank you for asking though. you two should have some champagne.” maeve motioned to the general vicinity of the table, “i’ll see you later on.” she nodded, smiling softly before she hurried away. the exhaustion was all encompassing. she didn’t turn back as she ducked in to the breakfast nook. maeve knew if she turned back, she’d see the broken expression that james was wearing and it would never leave her mind.

he knew.

he knew this was going to be goodbye. she knew too. it was ending. tucked away from everyone else, she rested her back against the wallpapered wall and tilted her head skyward. it bumped against the wall but she ignored the dull ache; it was the least painful thing she’d experienced thus far tonight. her eyes drifted to the cat clock on the wall, its tail swinging and eyes shifting as each second ticked past; forty five minutes until midnight.

— half an hour to midnight —

from the kitchen which had gradually filled, maeve followed the wall to her parents’ room. removed from the party, she could hear the music muffled through the door and the joyful chatterings of those excited or inebriated. careful not to rumple the skirt of her dress, she lowered herself to the ground at the foot of the bed. the shadows from the single-lamp lit room fell across her face and she pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them tightly. the familiar position brought her comfort as she rested her forehead against her knees, taking several shuttering breaths and willing her tears to stop. when that didn’t work, maeve tilted her head back to the ceiling and closed her eyes as if she could use gravity and force the tears to retreat behind her eyes.

sprung from her thoughts, maeve heard the doorknob wiggle and she straightened, her legs falling flat to the floor as she braced herself on her hands. turning towards the door, she quickly did an inventory of anyone who could have come looking for her: her parents were entertaining their friends, andie was last seen speaking with cameron and morgan, and samuel was at the babysitter’s. that left one person. “james…i—“

when the door opened fully, her words stopped and hung in the air. a broad, stocky figure filled the space of the door and was backlit from the warm, yellow lights that bathed the rest of the party.

“shit, maeve. sorry.” brett li looked around, running a hand through his hair. “i was looking for the bathroom.” he finished awkwardly, avoiding her eyes as though he’d come across her in a state of indecency when the light from behind him finally illuminated her tearstreaked face.

using the back of her hand to blot at some tears, maeve shook her head. “no, that’s the door on the right.” her voice was steadier than she thought it would have been and she fought to dampen her emotions further.

“thanks.” he moved to take a step back but paused, contemplating whether or not to brooch the subject. “you okay?” being sensitive or friendly wasn’t exactly in brett’s wheelhouse but he would try for andie’s sake. maeve was her best friend— he’d been told enough times.

his question was met with a short snort and a roll of her eyes, “i’m doing fine.” he knew that she obviously wasn’t. maeve’s immediate response had always been to play defense when she was caught being vulnerable. there was something so stripping and scary that she wanted to push away.

“you don’t look fine.” brett shot back, tilting his head towards her.

maeve let out a huff, her eyes cutting back at him. “wow, brett. you sure know how to compliment a woman. or am only i that lucky?”

he crossed his arms, and leaned against the door jamb. he looked suave, the perfect picture of a cool guy from a teen film. “you know what i mean.” and she did. she knew exactly what he meant. the two sat in a stalemate for several moments before he stepped in to the room completely, coming to take a seat beside her, his long legs out straight in front of him. “what are you thinking about?”

she paused and looked over at him, hesitating. was she really going to bare her soul to brett li? looking down at her hands, she grimaced. “that stupid dolly parton song isn’t even a love song, you know? it’s on an album called ‘the best love songs of all time’ or some bullshit but it’s not a love song.” she continued, her quiet voice coming rapidly. “it’s about a breakup and not like one from every other country song where there’s a stupid pickup truck and someone’s baby got left behind. it’s about leaving someone— actually leaving them— because you know it’s what’s best for them even if it isn’t what you want to do. and it’s ridiculous to make it seem like it’s this happy, world-ending declaration of love because it’s obviously not. it just— it hurts to do something like that.” the words fell from maeve before she even knew what she was going to say. she exhaled and didn’t look up at him, almost wishing the floor would absorb her.

brett raised his eyebrows at everything that maeve had just allowed to overflow. “that…sounds like it’s personal.” there was a beat before he ventured to ask the same question as he had earlier in hopes that maybe she’d answer it truthfully this time. “are you okay?”

finally turning her head to look at him, she pressed her lips together and gave a small shrug after taking a deep breath. “no, i’m not okay.”

“do you want to talk about it?” he let his eyes drift over her face, a small frown coming to rest on it. “i’m actually a pretty good listener.” he spoke quietly, a small smile playing on the corner of his lips. he hadn’t been a great listener before andie but with the talkative girl, he’d quickly learned.

“i’m breaking up with james.” the words filled the silence of the room. it felt like she was drowning in them.

“i’m sorry.” brett’s response was short but sincere as he watched her shift uncomfortably with the situation. facing forward once more, he drummed his fingers on the floor, not wanting to force her to talk about what was happening. from what he’d seen, they were a cute couple. the older guy was wrapped around maeve’s finger and she showed more affection to him than he’d seen her with anyone else. even casual touches like a graze of a hand or a squeeze of an arm, they seldom parted when he’d seen them together around town.

“thank you.” she swallowed the lump in her throat, chipping off some nail polish from her thumb. “you know, you’re the only person that i’ve told that hasn’t asked me why.” maeve observed softly.

“i figure that, if you want me to know, you’ll tell me.” brett gave a small shrug. he, of all people, knew it sucked to have things that you’d rather keep private set free in to the world.

nodding, she gave a very small but grateful hint of a smile before looking back down. it was almost easier to talk about this with brett than with andie or alice or brendan. brett didn’t know her history with james; he was objective. she laced her fingers together, bringing them up to rest under her chin. “i guess, i’m afraid that somehow he’ll get hurt if we stay together. but if i end it now, maybe the only hurt he’s going to really feel is this.” she gestured with her hands as if the pain was in front of her, as if it was tangible. maybe it was?

brett looked away and gave a small nod of understanding before breaking the silence again, “well, that’s kind of bullshit.”

maeve leaned forward, rounding on him, her cheeks flushing in frustration. “excuse me?”

“i said that’s kind of bullshit.” he repeated, giving a nonchalant shrug. “people make their own choices and he’s choosing to be with you. why do you get to decide when, or if, he gets hurt?” maeve frowned, both at his words and their implication. andie had obviously not yet spoken to brett about what she’d done; if she had, maeve wondered, would brett still feel the same way? “look,” he exhaled, meeting her eyes again, “if it were me, i’d just want the truth. then i could decide what i want instead of someone else choosing for me.”

they both knew that he was making a valid point but maeve dug her heels in. “it’s just— it’s not that simple.”

“it’s always that simple.” brett retorted and turned to face her, their shoulders squared. “the truth always comes out sometime, maeve. trust me— i know first hand.” he softened as her face began to redden and her eyes turned glassy. brett may have been a jerk but he wasn’t a monster; he didn’t want maeve to cry alone in a room on her birthday. “why do you get to make that decision? is it just because you think you’re doing what’s best for the both of you?” the question was genuine, he wasn’t trying to push her to feel bad.

“i never said it was what’s best for me.” maeve shrugged, avoiding answering part of his question.

“the whole idea of self-preservation was wasted on you, wasn’t it?” his quip was rewarded with a wry smile.

they both knew there would be no more discussion on the topic as maeve let her walls build back up, fortified once more. “i’ll be fine. i’ve survived worse.” she took a deep breath, trying to regain some composure.

maeve could feel brett’s eyes on her and she cocked an eyebrow, waiting for him to say anything. his thousand-watt smile covered his face, “you know, you may scare everyone else but you don’t scare me.” he pointed out, teasingly.

“hurt my best friend and, i promise, i will.” maeve shot back quickly, and brett sat up a bit straighter. he wasn’t expecting that quick or sharp of a comeback but he laughed nonetheless and maeve joined him after a moment. this may have been the lightest she felt all evening. as they settled down, maeve kept her eyes on him as a small, genuine smile came to rest on her lips.

“what?” his brow was furrowed.

tilting her head to the side, she nodded slightly. “nothing. i just, i get it now.”

“get what?” he felt like there was a joke that he was missing out on.

“why andie is so smitten with you.” she rolled her eyes. while the cracks in the foundation of the relationship were apparent to those who knew the truth, maeve couldn’t help but feel happy for her best friend.

the normally self-certain boy’s cheeks flushed red as he stammered, “uh, i—“

maeve cut him off before he could make up some excuse or say something stupid, “just get back out there.” she shook her head as he stood. he offered her a hand, like an olive branch in a sign of peace, with a kind but not pitying smile. accepting it, brett pulled her to her feet and turned to exit when he was stopped by her voice. “thank you, for checking on me, brett.”

from over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth quirked up in to a smile and he nodded in response before he was gone. the door was closed and maeve was alone once more, she sat gently on top of the quilt covering her parents’ bed. she traced the stitching of her grandmother’s handiwork absentmindedly.

begrudgingly, maeve knew that he was right. she was making this decision for both of them like she was the only person who mattered, ‘james would never choose this for himself.’ but perhaps that is what made this a dangerous pas de deux. there was a push and pull while there was a force at work manipulating all of the movements and decisions that were to be made and it was something bigger than either of them. she was making this decision because james mattered— because she wanted him to have a chance at a normal life even if that wasn’t with her.

leaning over to read the small alarm clock, maeve noticed that there wasn’t much time left in the evening and her stomach plummeted once more. she couldn’t hide from her guests forever. standing, she made her way to the mirror and gently wiped her face. swiping some powder from a compact resting on her mom’s side of the dresser, she blotted over the tearstreaks down her cheeks and shook her head almost impreceptibly as she sighed. in the mirror, maeve watched as her tongue came out to gently wet her dry lips before she attempted a genuine smile that only looked a little heartbroken. it was as good as things were going to get, she was resigned to herself. rolling her shoulders back and gracefully exiting the room, maeve smiled and greeted guests she’d seldom seen all evening while silently praying that time would slow down for just a little while longer.

— minutes to midnight —

when she’d heard the joyous shout of five minutes until midnight, maeve had quickly slipped on her coat and out through the back door in the kitchen. answering questions or faking happiness that she couldn’t feel at the moment were the last things she wanted to do and the only way to avoid those were to be alone. as she exited in to the night, it looked as though she were running away. she hurried down the steps, buttoning her coat and fervidly checking over her shoulder to ensure she was escaping unseen or that she wasn’t being followed. carefully stepping on the mossy cobblestones that led from the back yard to the front of the house, she had hurried up the porch stairs and over to take a seat on the swing. bathed in stripes of a warm yellow light, she was just out of sight from prying eyes within. through the picture window, the party inside continued until the socializing was called to a halt by the patriarch of the standish family.

robert held his glass out in a gesture to toast as mary placed a record on the turn table and turned down the volume on the television showing ‘dick clark’s new year’s rockin’ eve.’

“hello, all! thank you for coming out tonight.” he nodded, looking around, a content smile on his face. “first, i want to toast to the new year. may it be better than the last!” a small chuckle bounced around the crowd as glasses rose to match his. “every year since we got together, mary and i put on this bing crosby song and dance in the new year together. so, everyone grab the person you want to spend next year with because it’s almost here.” he took a sip of his drink before giving a nod to mary who dropped the needle against the vinyl. the brassy horns swirled around the room and people paired off with one another, arms threading around waists and necks.

james houseman stood against the wall, the bottle of beer in his hand that he’d held for the past hour was empty but he held it still, not wanting to be plied with other alcohol. as he glanced around the room, he couldn’t find the warm eyes and curly hair he was looking for. maeve had been avoiding him all night; she hadn’t changed her mind but that didn’t stop him from wanting to spend the next, and every, year with her. a gentle movement through the window was caught his peripheral vision.

dropping her chin to her chest, maeve clenched her eyes shut. she knew it was time. exhaling sharply, she moved to stand. maeve hesitated a moment before she approached the door. it felt like the world around her tunneled; she saw the small windows on the top of the door before it opened as she reached for its golden handle.

in the frigid cold, the couple stood face to face and alone. as the jazzy swing of the song filled the air, he gave a sad smile down at maeve. “could i have this dance?”

her breath caught in her chest and she nodded wordlessly. taking his outstretched hand, he stepped out to be with her. they stood together as they had hours earlier when they’d danced for the first time that evening. resting her head against his chest, she closed her eyes. he knew it was the end just as well as she did.

in silence, they danced together for a moment until it was broken with the deep rumbles of his voice. “i know that…you haven’t changed your mind.”

“james…” she exhaled.

“but it’s okay, maeve.” he quickly stopped her, “it’s okay. i promise— if it’s what you want, then i’ll be okay.” maeve felt him nod, as if he were trying to convince himself of this. “you know, i— uh…” he trailed off and maeve waited. she knew he needed time and, that, he deserved. what he didn’t deserve was this pain she’d pushed upon him. when he spoke again, his voice was strained. “i’ve always heard that sometimes you need to let something go…and it will come back to you if it’s meant to be.”

warm tears streamed down maeve’s face as she pressed her forehead against his shoulder. her shuttering breath caused her to shake as his hand drifted up and down, silently counting the vertebrae of her spine through the thick wool of her coat. she was grateful that her face was hidden from his earnest eyes.

“i have to believe that.” james’ rich voice was low and determined, “i have to believe that, if you and i are meant to be like i think— no, like i know we are, then we’ll find our way back to eachother.” as she took a step back, he was finally able to see her. james eyes traced the planes of her face, taking in the familiar freckles and smooth skin, as he continued. “sometime, somewhere, i know we will.” his sad, small smile broke her heart in to more pieces than it had already shattered in to.

“james, i’m so sorry.” her voice broke, and she closed her eyes tightly tilting her head down before looking back up at him. maeve had felt pain before. she’d been ripped apart from the inside out, she’d been unsure if she’d survive but she had to make sure that he would be safe. she had to make sure that james would be safe no matter what she actually wanted. from the living room, they heard the loud countdown to the new year begin. she looked over to the window, watching the excited occupants before her head turned back to face him. “please kiss me.“

“nine!”

“just one last time.” she whispered.

“eight!”

“please?”

james’ face was pained as he gave a small nod. he stepped closer and leaned down to her as she rose on her toes to meet him. when their lips found one another’s, there was a new desperation that neither had felt before. the frantic, pent-up emotion of the past week came to fruition. both of her hands rested on his face, almost wishing that she could selfishly keep him here in this moment forever. the cheering from inside as the clock struck one barely roused them.

as a firework burst in the night, they broke apart. he hugged her to his body tightly and she did the same, trying to smother the sobs against his chest. she’d never felt lower.

booming explosions and screams from firecrackers filled the air, the upbeat music inside returned as people celebrated with a new found vigor. after several minutes, james took a step back, his hands coming to rest on her upper arms. the two watched the frenzied, colorful explosions as they rose in to the sky, shimmering and disappearing just as their relationship had.

his red eyes shone with unshed tears as he reached up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, uncovering her face. he pressed his lips gently against her forehead, murmuring, “happy new year, maeve standish.”

“happy new year, james houseman.” her voice cracked. his hand brushed down her shoulder to her hand, where their fingertips lingered for just a moment. james gave her a sad smile and hesitantly drew his hands back, tucking them in his pockets. he took a few steps backwards before he turned to head down the stairs and to his car.

‘we too have run around the slopes and picked the daisies fine, we’ve wondered many weary foot since auld lang syne.’

maeve silently prayed to whichever deity was listening for james not to turn back. not to look at her. not to ask her to change her mind because she knew she would— she wasn’t that strong.

‘for auld lang syne, my dear. for auld lang syne. we’ll take a cup of kindness yet for auld lang syne.’

numbly, she watched the familiar car roar to life before it slowly moved down the road, turning out of sight. maeve could feel the tears rise in her throat. hurrying inside, she ducked up the stairs towards her room. closing the door, she forcefully kicked off her shoes and ripped her dress off, leaving the shiny fabric in a crumpled heap on the ground. maeve pulled on her pajamas and collapsed on to her bed, finally allowing herself to cry without restraint. was this what it felt like to lose a piece of yourself?

— after midnight —

brett’s arms had seldom strayed from around andie all evening. the lightly tipsy girl’s flushed cheeks gave away that she enjoyed this intimacy far more than she let on to anyone. playing it cool was not in the vernacular of andrea peterson. curled together on the couch among some of their peers, andie turned her head partially toward’s brett as he murmured the time in her hair, “it’s one fourty-five.” her parents had given her two hours after midnight to come home safely; though andie may have been one of the most responsible teenagers in hawkins, she was still their only child that strived on structure.

andie tilted her head back and forth, her neck stiff from the angle at which she’d propped herself against his body. sitting up straight, she let out a soft sigh as her arms stretched high above her. brett leaned over and caught her cheek in a soft kiss and andie let out an uncharacteristically girlish giggle before she turned her head and allowed him to place a gentle peck upon her lips. the two teens were ignorant to the eyerolls of their peers and were lost in themselves. “okay, okay.” standing, andie looked around the party and a frown appeared on her face, a crease forming on her brow. “wait— have you seen maeve?”

“not since…shit. i don’t know. did you tell her happy new year?” brett stood as well, walking towards the rack on which their coats had been hung with care. he draped them across his arm and moved back towards andie who was still thinking intensely.

“i don’t remember.” guilt rose in andie and she walked around the familiar home, her frown deepening at every corner that she was unable to find maeve. “maybe she’s just getting ready for bed. i’ll be right back.” andie spoke, already ascending the stairs.

“tell her i said happy new year!” brett called after her, shrugging his own coat over his shoulders as he watched her turn the corner to the second floor.

andie walked up the stairs and turned to her right, an ornate ‘m’ sign on the door in front of her. beneath the wood, she saw a sliver of light still shining. her best friend was as introverted as they came; andie was certain that, even without the break up, maeve was likely exhausted from the evening and had taken to hiding out alone until the evening wound down. “mae?” her voice was soft as she used a knuckle to gently rap at the door. andie paused, waiting for the telltale shuffle of maeve coming to the door, and was greeted with silence. with a slightly louder knock and call of her name, andie worried her bottom lip at the lack of response. “maeve?” after waiting just a few seconds longer, andie let her hand come to rest on the clear acrylic knob, twisting it open.

in the corner of the room, the standing lamp continued lighting the area with a soft hum of the warm, yellow halogen bulb. her eyes landed on the bed where maeve was resting. while she’d changed in to a long sleeve nightgown that rested at her midthigh, her hair and makeup from the party were still intact. the pillow pressed against the side of maeve’s face as she laid diagonally across the bed, on her stomach, and over the covers. her arms embraced the pillow, smushing the sham, as if it were a life preserver and the only thing left to keep her afloat. ‘god, she sleeps like the dead.’ andie had a small smile and mused to herself; the two had previously had many sleepovers during which maeve would stay up far later than andie, taking in the evening and letting her mind wander, before sleeping well past andie’s internal alarm clock at seven in the morning, or seven thirty on weekends. taking a few steps closer with the intention of waking her, andie finally got a better look at her face and felt her chest collapse at the pain still on the girl’s face even in a state of unconsciousness.

maeve’s sleeping brain was not allowing her anything resembling a restful night of sleep. on repeat, she saw james driving away. she walked away from him after their dance. she kissed him one last time. she dreamed of running to him, running to his home and standing outside in the snowy darkness and apologizing but, through the frosted windowpane, he was deaf to her.

her tears had carried streaks of mascara down her face and soaked in to the pillow, leaving small black specks. the wine color she’d had on her lips was smudged in to the fabric. her hair which had been carefully curled and teased had matted and flattened. her cheeks and nose were still ruddy and her eyes, although closed, still seemed swollen from all of the tears that had been shed. “oh, mae…” andie’s soft voice trailed off, heartbroken for her best friend. she sighed and gently brushed a hand over her head, swiping stray hairs off of her forehead.

looking around, andie found a frilly, baby pink throw blanket that had been pushed far against the foot of the bed over the course of maeve’s descent to sleep. she slid it from under her ankles gently and, quietly, she unfolded it and draped it across maeve who burrowed further in to the new warmth that surrounded her. giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, andie quietly padded over to the lamp and turned the switch, allowing it to click off and enrobe them in darkness. she carefully walked to the door, taking caution not to step on any particularly creaky or loose boards. “happy new year, maeve.” andie said softly and gave her friend one last look, glad maeve was asleep because she’d refuse the pity that andie felt for her if she were conscious. “it’s gonna be a good year.” she repeated her promise from earlier, certain that if nothing else worked out for maeve over the next three hundred and sixty-five days, she’d always have andie with her. with the click of the closing door, maeve was left alone once more in the dark, quiet sanctuary of her bedroom.

style inspiration: x song inspiration: x

#your stranger things life challenge #story #ystlc

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