#i leave at 9 and work for an hour mostly doing cleaning in the lab because it takes two people to do most other things

[snarkfamily]

Okay I need to get this off my chest even though I think all my followers are bots haha. I will release it to the void so it gets out of my head!

But imagine: in Season 5, they’re battling Vecna and various demo-creatures and Steve is trying to protect his kids, and ends up dying. And a small part of him is relieved, but mostly he’s worried because they need all the manpower they can get, and he knows that Dustin and Robin especially will be devastated.

But then his eyes open, and his body doesn’t hurt, and he can hear birds really clearly, and his eyes focus without squinting, and he thinks “hey, maybe I got into heaven after all?” Except he’s in his bedroom, as it hasn’t been for a long time, and he figures out it’s actually 1981, two months before he starts freshman year. After hours or maybe days of screaming and panic attacks and searing grief, the knowledge that his friends don’t know him and will never know him the way they used to has settled in, and he resolves to make a plan. He still has two years before the shit hits the fan, but El is in the lab and he wants to get her out asap.

The problem is that he’s never been the ideas guy, he’s always been told he’s stupid, and he can’t go to anyone he normally would because they don’t KNOW him anymore, and his kids are only 9! And he briefly wishes that someone else was sent back, someone smarter, but he wouldn’t really wish this anguish on anyone else. And really, if he had parents who were present and cared, like the others, he would probably be committed for the way he was acting, so probably for the better.

He ultimately decides that the best thing to do is deal with the lab right away, so no one gets hurt. He knows Hopper won’t believe him, and what is a small-town cop supposed to do against the lab anyway? But then he remembers Murray Bauman, and thinks “yeah, that guy can take down an evil government organization no problem.” So he’s feeling pretty good about the plan until he realizes that Murray will probably ignore him or shoot him on the off chance he takes him seriously. Then inspiration strikes when he’s doing a grocery run and is gazing longingly across the produce at the Sinclair family. Little Erica appears to be negotiating with her mother about vegetables, and Steve thinks “yes! WWED?!”

So he takes the money his family leaves him, takes a bus to Illinois, and shows up to Murray’s gate. When Murray laughs him off, Steve tells him that there’s a note on his kitchen table outlining where he’s going, and that if he goes missing, Murray is to blame. There’s a silence that Steve chooses to interpret as encouraging, so he keeps going, telling Murray every fact about him that Steve knows: weapons he uses, aliases he has, conspiracies he believes, languages he speaks. Murray finally responds with a baffled “kid… who are you?” And lets Steve in.

Once in the house, Steve’s opening line is “do you think the government could fuck up enough to accidentally cross dimensions?” And Murray is somehow a mix of amused and horrified and confused, but yes, actually, the government COULD fuck up that much. Steve tells him all about the lab, and when Murray believes him, he adds the time travel and the whole history. Murray lets him spend the night and then they go to Hawkins the next day.

Hopper gets involved, and together they gather enough evidence to shut down the lab for good. The adults don’t let Steve do any fighting, even though he complains that he’s been through it all. They argue that even if his brain remembers, his body is a clean slate, and it should stay that way. They want to protect him the best they can. He’s in charge of getting El out, and he manages to convince Hopper to foster her. Over the planning stages, the adults figure out that Steve’s parents neglect him, so they work out a plan where Murray moves into the Hawkins’ trailer park so that he can foster Steve.

As the Upside Down situation gets resolved and it gets closer to school, Steve feels less and less like a 19 year old and more like a 14 year old. His old life feels more like remembering the plot of a movie, and he chafes less under the rules Murray makes for him. By the time school starts, he gets to make friends with Eddie as equals, not with an age imbalance, he just remembers who is important to him. And if he has his bisexual awakening 5 years earlier than the previous timeline, then it’s a good thing his father figure is much more accepting than the Harringtons would have been. To befriend his kids, he puts up babysitting fliers and actually loves babysitting for any kids, not just the Party. He becomes just as inseparable with Robin when she gets to high school the next year, and Nancy and Jonathan are good friends without the added awkwardness of dating. He even gets to know Barb, who it turns out is the perfect match for Robin.

[dilfcherricola]

Trying not to resent my roommate/coworker for things that are not in faer control but damn if the things aren’t making my life harder

[leafs-lover]

Too Far Gone - Part Thirty

Series Masterlist

A/N: Sorry for taking a million years, the next part is mostly written. Hopefully I can find a somewhat normal posting schedule moving forward

Warnings: Swearing, smut (18+), a little drinking. I think that's it

Word Count: 9100

To say Auston was mad would have been an understatement. He might have been even more enraged than Tia was after their fight in Scottsdale. The only difference is, Auston didn’t avoid her.

He could have been petty, asked to drop Taylour at daycare instead of her apartment, or he could have asked Mitch to come with him and be the one to take Taylour from the car to Tia’s apartment. But he didn’t.

Instead, he would knock on her door, even though he had a key and would wait for Tia to let him in. Once inside he always kept his shoes on and barely left the entryway. He would tell her about their time together, tell her a funny or interesting story of their time together, tell her about any issues. He would update her on his potty training, and on his letters – the newest skill he was trying to conquer. He could almost write his name but was struggling with the ‘Y.’ He’d call Taylour over for a hug goodbye and he would leave, not spending a second more than necessary.

Tia felt an immense amount of guilt. Every time Auston came over she told herself that she was going to apologize. She tried to think about what she was going to say, what words matched the situation, but nothing did. She felt sick to her stomach lying in bed at night with her eyes closed, she kept seeing his face, could hear him pleading with her to be honest.

The more she thought about what happened, the more regret she felt and the harder it was for her to find the words to say. Her heart ached for him, she never imagined she’d hurt Auston, and at this point she had lost count of how many times. She found her world filling with darkness, slowly, but every day there was a little bit more than the day prior. The only way to slow the pain engulfing her world was to not think about what had happened, and the only way to do that was to not let her mind turn off.

When Auston had Taylour, Tia went to her placement, then she would go to the club. She actually studied for her summer courses and found herself weeks ahead in the course work. Sometimes she would watch a movie with Becks or have a girl’s night. When she didn’t have Taylour, her schedule was packed.

When she had Taylour, she tried to stay busy with him. They went to the park, to the zoo, played with his blocks, read stories, worked on his numbers and letters. But as much of a distraction her toddler could be, there were moments when he was quiet, busy watching TV or playing with his toys. He also fell asleep by 9 every night and Tia feared the thoughts that came with sleep.

So she didn’t.

She had cleaned behind her stove, windexed every window, and cleaned her entire fridge. She went through her closet and Taylour’s, donating clothes that no longer fit. Sketchbooks and pencil crayons littered her table, fabric swatches stacked in the middle. She spent hours with her glasses pressed to her nose, working on a sketch. The same sketch she worked on the day before, and the day before that. The lack of sleep and constant movement lead to a complete shutdown of all her creative prowess. She is blocked, completely and utterly blocked.

“Mommy! Mommy,” Taylour tugs on her jacket sleeve. “Mommy look, it’s a puppy.,” he explains giving her wrist another tug, attempting to pull her towards the chocolate lab with a bright red vest.

It felt like thirty years had gone by as they stepped out of the bowling alley and into the stick Toronto air filled with car horns and rushing crowds. Having cleaned everything, twice, Tia was in need of a way to turn off her mind, and that was bowling. They played three games and Taylour won them all. Not actually, Tia had to roll multiple gutter balls and even ‘accidentally’ rolled on Taylour’s turn without him knowing to help bump his score.

“Yeah, I see that,” Tia replies. Approaching the intersection, the owner turns towards Tia and Taylour, who is eagerly trying to get closer.

“I pet the puppy.” Taylour doesn’t ask, he informs her.

“No Taylour,” Tia bends down to eye level and stops Taylour from getting any closer. His wide and beady brown eyes turn to look at her, the furrowing of his brows not long after.

“Why?” he whines, not pulling his gaze away from the well-trained dog sitting patiently at the intersection who is unphased by the interaction.

“Because you have to ask before you pet somebodies’ dog,” Tia starts to explain. “But you see the red vest the dog is wearing?”

“Yes Mommy," he nods enthusiastically.

Gently tilting his chin, Tia forces his eyes away from the dog and to her. Keeping her voice soft she continues trying to explain this to him. “Okay, well that vest means the dog is working.”

“Working?” His eyes dart to Tia then back to the dog then back to Tia. “How is it working?”

“Well, there is lots of things that dogs can do. Sometimes they help people who can’t see very well get to places safely, sometimes the dog will help to keep a person safe and healthy,” she tries to keep her explanation as basic as possible to avoid confusion. “But when a puppy has a red vest, it means they are busy working, and you can’t pet them.”

“Oh,” his entire face falls. His bottom lip instantly starts to quiver and tears brim in his eyes. Tia’s heart breaks even though she can’t quite tell if these are fake or real tears. “But I want to pet the puppy,” he points to the dog. The light changes and the owner and the dog step onto the street, making their way through the intersection. “Mommy, the puppy!” he sniffles, a small heave in his chest.

The tears are real, his entire face looking like a cabinet of broken china.

Sighing, Tia pulls him into her chest and picks him up. “I know bud.”

“I want a puppy mommy,” Taylour whines against her, nuzzling his head into the crook of her neck.

His cries become louder and sobs heavier. Tia softly places a kiss to his temple and runs her hand up and down his back. She hates when he cries, but she especially hates when it’s something that she can fix. The fact is, Tia would love to get Taylour a pet. There is a cat at his daycare, and Taylour always comes home with funny stories about Frankie. He has the urge to pet every dog he meets, and Tia has to constantly remind him they need to ask first, and then explain why it’s okay when some owners say no. Her whole life she wanted a dog and one day Taylour will have a pet. If she’s being honest, he will likely have a four-legged sibling before any human ones, but now isn’t the time.

“I know you do Taylour,” Tia stops walking. She bounces him in her arms to force his face off her shoulder, his cheeks are puffy and eyes bloodshot. Brushing away his tears, she lets out a deep and heavy exhale. “One day, when you’re a bit older we’ll get you a puppy okay?”

“Promise?” his voice cracks, the streetlights glistening off his tear-stained eyes.

“I promise,” she smiles at him.

Carrying him down the street, his head found her shoulder again and his feet swung at her sides. Through the passing cars and groups walking by on the sidewalk, Tia heard the occasional sniffle in her ear. Eventually she felt his entire body lean into hers and by the time they stepped into the elevator he was asleep.

She took him to bed and removed all his sticky clothes, replacing them with his Toronto Maple Leafs pyjamas. Once tucked in, Tia returned to her table and felt overwhelmed as the incomplete and disastrous sketches stared back at her. She tried tweaking a couple, using one as inspiration and re-doing it. She re-did it again. And again. And again.

It was after 2am when Tia finally forced herself away from the table. She had accomplished nothing, but exhaustion had finally exceeded her frustration in the situation. Brushing her teeth and changing into pajama’s, she walked out of her room towards Taylour’s, wanting to place one final kiss to him before bed. She found him tucked under his blanket, a few stuffed animals wedged into the corner of the bed, sound asleep, mouth wide open while occupying the entire space like a starfish. She walked in and adjusted Geoffery to be closer to his chest and pulled the blankets back up his body. Leaning down she placed a soft kiss to his forehead and was met with a soft, sleep filled murmur.

It’s such a simple thing, something she has done every night with him. But when she pulled away, Tia didn’t expect her throat to tighten or heart to palpitate the way it did. She had spent years staring at the wooden engraved name plate hanging above Taylour’s bed, or rather, the necklace dangling from it. The necklace Auston gifted her many years ago. Every night for two and a half years it loomed over his bed, and it never impacted her. But this time it was different, and she can’t explain it.

“Daddy!” Taylour runs over to him and jumps up, into his arms.

“Hiya!” he playfully tosses him up before pulling him in for a hug. “What are you doing?”

“I’m colouring,” he wraps his arms around Auston’s neck and places a kiss to his cheek. “Want to see my picture?”

“Of course I do.” Keeping his shoes on, Auston carries Taylour into the kitchen. He carries Taylour past Tia and mutters a hello under his breath, one that she barely picks up on while frustratedly tapping her pencil against the table. Scouring the mess of papers, sketches and fabric, Auston finds the scribbled mess of colours that is Taylour’s picture.

“Wow, look at this…” Auston trails off, looking at it. There is an obvious sun at the top of the page, and what he assumes is grass and maybe some flowers at the bottom. It’s the brown circular blob with red splotches that have him stumped. Normally his pictures have stick figures, and Auston will ask ‘is this you?’ to which Taylour will smile and nod, and then explain what exactly he is doing in the picture.

I’m skating

I’m at the park

We’re at the zoo

Auston has countless pictures, all of Taylour cataloguing something they actually did together. In this case he has absolutely no idea. There are no stick figures, no discernible shape or noticeable activity needed to determine what the picture is to be. It is only a messy blob.

“It’s a dog,” Tia tells him under her breath. She didn’t even look up from her sketchbook but could tell he was struggling.

“What a cool dog!” Auston encourages him.

“Mhm, I saw it yesterday,” Taylour smiles, with a big enthusiastic nod. “Mommy said we are getting a dog.”

“Noooo!” Tia is very quick in her response and forces her eyes up to Taylour. “I said when you’re older we can get a dog.”

“But I want a dog now,” Taylour pouts.

**

Tia continued to distract herself. She went to work that night.

She wore a new matching emerald green set that was tight, really tight, accentuating her breasts and every curve. Her brown hair was perfectly styled with loose beachy curls and her makeup was dark with contrasting bright red lips. She grinded her hips down and flirted with multiple men. She faked her smiles and her laughs. She danced, on the stage and in private rooms. She did it until after 3am even though she has to be up at 7 to get ready for her internship. She knows it isn’t sustainable to live like this, but she also knows she can’t stop.

After sleeping for less than three hours, Tia woke up late. Her kitchen was a mess of dishes from the meal she hastily prepared after work. There was no coffee because she forgot to buy some, breakfast was out of the question. Barely enough time to brush her hair, she managed to pull it into a loose pony behind her head, hopeful it looked purposefully messy, and not just messy.

Barreling into the coffee shop seeking some form fuel for the day, she barely even realized the body on the other side of the glass door. She almost knocked him off balance, the majority of the piping hot coffee spilling on his hand. “Oh my god,” Tia’s eyes go wide. “I am so sorry.”

Shaking his hand out, a few drops of coffee fall to the floor. “It’s okay,” he sounds empathetic.

“No, it’s not.” Tia hastily rushes over to the napkins and pulls a generous handful from the dispenser and hands them to him, “I am the worst.”

“It’s just coffee Tia,” he laughs dismissively. Taking the napkins, he begins to wipe his hands dry. Confusion hits quickly. Her gaze draws up the tight shirt that outlines every dip and curve of his hard chest towards his face, and her face begins to stabilize. Just as she starts to process the person in front of her, he speaks again. “Thomas, I’m Camille’s friend.”

“We met at graduation,” Tia smiles. “I remember.”

They hold the others gaze for a moment, eyes flicking over the others face. They both fall silent, his eyes pinned to hers as everything begins to slow around them. “Can I buy you another coffee? Replace the one I spilt.” Tia is the one to pull herself from the tingling silence that embodies them.

“No,” he quickly replies, shaking his head.

“I have to make it up to you,” dropping her gaze she focusses on the large brown stain on his stomach. “Oh, your shirt!”

“I own a washing machine,” he jokes. “Let me take you to dinner.”

The offer catches Tia off guard and her voice trembles as she tries to keep her composure. “I spill coffee on you, and you’re going to repay me by taking me to dinner?”

“You’re paying me back with conversation,” he offers.

There are a million reasons to say no. Countless other obligations already occupy her time and by agreeing she would have to pull her time from elsewhere, but where? On top of that, she doesn’t have the best record as of late with men. It could be said those issues are with Auston, and not men in general, it also could be argued things weren’t going well in that department before Auston wandered back into her life (and even before he first entered it in Zurich). Add in that she is barely holding her head above water; dating isn’t something she should be doing.

Opening her mouth to politely decline, he smiles at her, a wide genuine smile, unlike anything Tia has ever seen, and her heart flutters in response.

“Yeah, how about tomorrow?” she hands him her phone.

**

“You’re going on a date?” Becks blinks at her, trying to keep up with her friend’s behaviour.

“Yeah. Do you not think I should be?”

“No, I do,” Becks quickly replies. “You were very adamant on not dating not too long ago.”

“I think the policy should have been no Auston,” Tia explains.

“That’s a good policy,” Becks grins. “So, tell me about him, where’d you meet? When? What’s his name?” Shifting closer, Becks eagerly pulls her leg up onto the couch and brings her wine to her lips.

“It’s actually Camille’s friend, Thomas,” Tia replies, chuckling at her friend’s eagerness.

“Oh.” It’s not supposed to come out full of shock mixed with a tinge of disappointment.

Prior to their graduation Becks and Emily discussed setting Tia up with someone. Everything with Auston was done and in the past (or so they thought) and they thought a change might be good for her, even if nothing serious transpired. Becks mentioned it to Camille, who immediately responded by pulling out her phone and opening up some pictures of her friends. One by one they went through those pictures and Camille provided some information on them. When one with Thomas popped up, his physical appearance instantly screamed Tia, but Camille breezed by him with a simple ‘they wouldn’t be a good fit' and Becks left it at that.

“Oh?” Tia quirks her eyebrow, sensing her friend’s reservations. “Is there something wrong with him?”

“No,” Becks shakes her head. “Remember how I wanted to set you up with someone, one of Camille’s friends but you said no?” Tia nods, taking a slow sip of wine. “It was with Thomas’s friend, Trevor.”

“Is there something wrong with Thomas?” Tia asks.

“No, Camille just knows Trevor more. Want me to get Camille to ask around about him?”

“No,” Tia shakes her head. Knowing all the lies on the internet, and the assumptions someone could make about her, Tia wants to go into this date with a clear unbiased opinion of who he is. “But you can help me decide what to wear.”

It took two hours with a lot of back and forth, but they decided on what she should wear. A pair of perfectly tailored black pants, paired with a burgundy crop top, the long sheer sleeves providing her relief from the warm summer temperatures and a flirty open back to showcase her sun-kissed skin.

Tia was nervous, almost as much as her first date with Auston. Stepping into her ankle boots the thought of cancelling crossed her mind when the trilling sound of her ringtone cut through the air, almost knocking the wind from her lungs.

“Hey,” a flustered Tia breathes out as the call connects. “Everything okay?”

“Hey.” Auston freezes when he notices the light layer of makeup on her face and loose curls to her chocolate brown hair. She looks good is his immediate thought, but when did she not?

“Auston,” Tia is firmer, calling attention to him. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he shakes his head, trailing off again. “Yeah, he uh, he missed you, just wanted to say goodnight.”

“Of course,” Tia smiles. Adjusting into the couch, Auston moves the camera to focus on Taylour.

“Hi Mommy,” Taylour’s voice is heavy and full of sleep.

“Hi Taylour,” she continues to smile. “I miss you.”

“I miss you mommy,” he whines, lower lip quivering ever so slightly. She can see the redness in his eyes, but the puffiness of his cheeks tells her he has been crying. “You sing to me?”

“Of course baby,” Tia smiles. “Hush, little baby, don't say a word, Mama’s gonna buy you a…” Tia trails off, letting Taylour complete the sentence, a tradition they long have held.

“Puppy,” he smirks, tears lingering on the surface of his pupils.

“Hush, little baby, don't say a word, Momma’s gonna buy you a puppy,” Tia chuckles but continues to sing. “And if that puppy won't bark, Momma’s gonna buy you a…”

“Kitty.” Both Auston and Tia laugh lightly.

“It’s supposed to rhyme with bark,” Auston grins and pokes his side, bringing a sheepish smile to his face.

Part way through the song Taylour stopped filling in the blanks and Tia continued on with it. His eyes closed and he curled up closer to Auston, by the end his breathing had evened out and sleep had overcome him.

Even if it was over a screen, it was the first time in a while Auston spent a significant amount of time around Tia, and everything he had been trying so hard to forget came rushing back. The lullaby sung horribly out of tune brought back all the reasons he wanted to have a family with Tia in the first place, and why it hurt so much that she didn’t want it back. He remembered their conversations late at night about kids, how Tia wanted a big family because she never had siblings, and Auston just agreed because the size of their family didn’t really matter to him, so long as he had her. He remembered their conversations on baby names, and how she nixed almost every boy name he came up with but that they both fell in love with Maddison and knew that would be their daughter’s name one day.

He remembered thinking of Maddison, the brunette brown eyed girl with more sass than either one of them could handle. He remembered thinking of them all curled on the bed on Christmas Eve, watching a marathon of Christmas movies while in matching pyjamas. He saw them picking out nursery colours and planning vacations. He saw the engagement ring he was going to buy her, and her in a white dress.

That stupid lullaby brought all of that back, but her appearance sent him into a tailspin. Was she going to work? She couldn’t be. Every time he saw her leaving or coming home from work she was dressed comfortably, a hoodie and leggings. If she got ready at home her makeup was heavier and hair more dramatic than what she currently has, and if she was getting ready at work her face would basically be a blank canvas.

He walked out into the hall and left the door open a crack, allowing light from the hall to filter in. He walked to the couch and kept seeing Tia and the subtle make-up she was wearing. Not her over the top, fake lashes and thick, dark wings, but the kind of makeup that is meant to captivate her natural features. He noticed the shimmer of her shirt and it caught his attention, because it was seductive and left her partially exposed. Not enough to wear on the stage, but also way more than she would ever wear to go to work.

She isn’t going to work.

It’s the only conclusion, and it is possible she is going out with friends, but Auston has a sinking feeling it’s meant for a date.

It shouldn’t bother him knowing Tia is going on a date. But it does.

And that night, while Taylour slept down the hall, Auston did something he had been holding off on doing. There was a sliver of hope Auston had been clinging to, that Tia would admit what she had been hiding behind. That she would admit to her true feelings, and they would have an open and honest conversation. He held on to the hope of her.

This date is proof that won’t be happening, and he misjudged the situation. He unlocked his phone and used Fred’s referral to send in an application for Raya. Knowing his application could take weeks to be approved, Auston re-opened those Instagram DM’s he had yet to respond. He talked with Katie, Michelle and Betty. They all seemed nice, and if Auston didn’t have Taylour one of them would have been in his bed that night. Instead, he just sent a few messages and chatted a little, trying to gauge if he wanted to take things further with any of them. Trying to get the image of Tia out of his head.

**

“Wow,” Thomas lets his eyes run down her then brings her in for a hug outside the restaurant. “You look ravishing,” he hesitantly places a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Thank you,” her cheeks match the colour of her top. “You look nice too.”

“I look like garbage next to you,” he laughs.

Opening the heavy door, he put his hand on her back and guides her to the hostess podium. There his hand remained while he gave the name for the reservation, and as they walked through the restaurant to their table, only removing it to tuck her chair in.

It started awkward, both looking to the other and down to the menu, back up then back down. By the time the wine had been poured and salads brought out, they had started on the basics. Where they were from, majors and hobbies.

“So, you grew up in a military household?” Thomas asks, reaching out to bring a piece of lettuce on his fork to his mouth.

“Yeah, we moved around, a lot, new cities every couple years,” she picks up her wine and peers over the glass to him.

“That must have been tough.”

Tia shrugs, not exactly wanting to delve into the details surrounding her relationship with her dad. “My dad did what he could to help make it easier on me, he became my best friend for a while because he was the only person I would know at first.”

Thomas smiles at her and sets down the fork. Bringing the napkin up to his face he wipes the sides of his mouth. “What about your mom? You close with her?”

Tia’s entire body freezes. She hasn’t thought about Kylie since she hysterically showed up on Auston’s door months ago. Energy, so much energy has been put towards not thinking about her, because Tia knows once she doesn’t deserve a second thought.

She doesn’t lie awake at night staring blankly at the ceiling wondering about that pool in the backyard, and if it means she has kids, because who buys a house with a pool in Toronto if they don’t have kids? She doesn’t think about Kylie’s life over the last 22 years, and if she ever thought about Tia or regretted walking away. She doesn’t think about what her reaction would have been to the letters her father sent every year, or the terrible excuse she could have for doing what she did. She certainly doesn’t wonder if Kylie read the article, and if she did read it, if she realized it was her daughter.

She may think about it a little.

“I never met her.” She puts her glass back onto the table a little harder than intended. “You work for RBC?”

“Yes. I’m an accounts manager there,” he instantly accepts the conversation change, noticing the change in her demeanor.

“What’s that like?”

“It’s what you would imagine working at a corporate bank to be,” Thomas grins, making Tia smile.

“You have a beautiful smile.”

With that admission, Tia felt her walls fall at a faster pace. As they continued to talk, chisels and hammers went to work, pulling out the bricks one by one. They talked about his family, her schooling. It was easy and comfortable, but it was also slow.

An hour later their cups were empty, and plates cleared away, the bill had been paid and they collected their belongings. Stepping out onto the Toronto streets to take Tia home, his hand slipped into hers. There was a light breeze rolling off the lake, but it did little to fight the building July heat.

“So,” they slowly walk down the sidewalk. “My friend has a stand-up show Tuesday, want to come?”

“I have plans.” Her plans involve a 2 ½ year old and probably watching Moana for the 15th time this month, but she can’t tell him that. She has learned most twenty-something year old’s run the second they learn about Taylour, and if she wants any sort of future with them, she should wait to tell them.

“You can’t reschedule? It’s her only show.”

“No, sorry.”

“Dinner Wednesday?” he asks.

“I have plans,” she replies, noticing the grimace of his face.

“Monday?”

“I –“

“Have plans?” Thomas nods, letting out a hefty sigh. “It’s okay, I get it.”

“It’s not that,” Tia gulps and takes a deep shaky breath. Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk she turns to face him. “I have a son and I share custody with his father. I could get a babysitter, but I already leave him at daycare while I go to my internship. The evenings are really my only time with him.”

“You have a kid?” he hesitantly asks.

“Yes,” she clicks her teeth and nods. Pulling out her phone she shows him her lock screen. “His name is Taylour and he’s 2 ½.”

Tia expects the generic, over used response most men give. The ‘oh that’s great’ or ‘I love kids’ followed by a fake smile and an uncomfortable silence. It’s the response she has received from every first or second date she has been on since giving birth. The response that doesn’t lead to another date.

“Tell me about him,” Thomas smiles warmly, completely catching Tia off guard.

“Uh well,” her cheeks flush at his reaction, “he is an energetic wild toddler who thinks he can do everything without help. He loves dinosaurs, cars, and anything related to Paw Patrol. One second he is doing something that drives me absolutely insane and the next he is curling in my lap telling me he loves me.”

Tia continued to tell Thomas about Taylour for the next two blocks. He listened and nodded, asking questions when appropriate and laughed and some of the stories she shared.

“He sounds really sweet; I hope one day I get to meet him," he says when Tia finally stops talking about him.

Tia just smiles. Men always said they thought her having a kid was awesome and they moved on from that topic. Not Thomas.  He was genuinely interested. He was thinking of a future, seeing her again. Nobody ever wanted much of a future with her once they found out about Taylour, but he wanted Taylour in his. Falling silent she processes this, the idea that somebody wants to be involved in Taylour’s life and not just hers.

“Obviously when you’re ready,” Thomas quickly adds when he notices Tia is lost in her own world. “My mom was a single mom, she dated a couple people but the only one I met was Chris, my stepdad. I know how it is, I don’t expect to meet him now or any time soon. Whenever you’re ready.” 

Tia let out a breath and smiles once again. “I knew you didn’t mean right now. I haven’t gone on many dates, when they hear about Taylour, they lose all interest in me. I guess…” trailing off Tia sighs before continuing, “it’s nice that someone is actually interested in him because he is everything to me.”

“I’m sorry every other guy didn’t care to learn more about him, but it worked out in my favour,” Thomas once again smiles down at her.

“I can do tomorrow or Thursday,” she offers.

“Tomorrow and Thursday it is.”

Thomas walked her to her building, the streetlight hitting the side of his cheek. There was a moment, a hesitation, where Thomas leaned back on his heels waiting for Tia’s next move. Tia, not really being the type to sleep with someone after a first date knew she would not be inviting him inside.

With a polite smile, she peered up at him, “I had a great time.”

“Me too,” he takes a small step forward, keeping his chocolate brown eyes glued on her lips. Slowly leaning down until his lips ghosted over hers, he gently presses a chaste kiss against her. It was soft and brief, and he pulled away with a dark grin.

“Have a good night Tia.”

“You too.”

Tia wasn’t left with butterflies. Yes, she had a good time, but she didn’t have the overwhelming urge to pull his face down and trap him for a longer, more passionate kiss as she did with Auston after their first date.

Stepping off the elevator, she didn’t go home, she had to talk to someone while it was fresh in her head. Using the spare key Becks and Claire left under the door mat, she placed her shoes off to the side and tiptoed down the dark hallway to her friend’s door, a soft blue glow illuminating the crack under the doorway.

She was tucked under five blankets, her laptop was sitting on the computer chair she had wheeled beside her bed to use as a makeshift table, Brooklyn Nine Nine softly playing through the speakers. The sound of the door slowly creaking open startled Becks. She practically jumped out of her skin when she saw a silhouette appear in her doorway.

“Hi,” Tia whispers.

“Jesus Tia,” she brings her hand up to her chest, gasping over the thumping of her heart. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”

“I wanted to tell you about my date,” Tia gently closes the door and sets her purse on Beck’s hand-me-down dresser. Opening the third drawer she pulls out a t-shirt and pair of shorts.

“You could have text me or something first,” Becks begins to sink back into the blankets.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Tia winks before turning her back to her and pulling off her shirt.

“What if Camille was here?” Becks laughs and shifts closer to the wall to create space for her.

“Her shoes weren’t at the door,” Tia shrugs. Running a brush through her hair she walks over to the bed and crawls in. “Oh, it’s so warm.”

“Because I warmed it for you,” Becks mutters, not enjoying the cool unused portion of the bed she now occupies. “How was your date?”

“It was good,” Tia shuts the laptop and flips onto her back, staring through the darkness to the ceiling fan that slowly circles above them.

“You scared the shit out of me to tell me it was good?” Becks unenthusiastically nudges her.

“I told him about Taylour.”

“So, it was really good then?” Becks asks knowing that Tia likes to wait a bit to tell people about him.

“I guess,” her face grimaces, processing the date.

“What’s wrong with him?” Becks doesn’t have time to ease into it.

“He’s nice, he’s funny, he genuinely seems interested in Taylour, has an actual job and doesn’t live in his mom’s basement.”

“Seems like he has it all,” she aggressively fluffs the pillow.

“Yeah.”

“Tia,” Becks groans, not letting the room fill with silence. “It’s late, I’m tired, just spill.”

Tia just laughs, Becks was never pleasant being awoken abruptly, or earlier than normal. Or just being woken up in general. If Becks was sleeping it was just better to let her sleep. “I don’t know…he just...I guess-“

“Tia, fuck.” Bitterness is dripping off every word.

“He isn’t Auston,” Tia blurts out. Shock almost knocks the breath out of her lungs. She didn’t realize she had been subconsciously comparing them.

“Isn’t that the goal in dating other people. To find someone that isn’t Auston?” Becks offers.

Tia falls silent for a bit. It’s not that he isn’t Auston, it’s that she doesn’t feel the way she felt with Auston. She feels stronger for Thomas than most of the men she has dated, but he pales in comparison to how Auston made her feel. But can anyone compare to him? Or maybe she is more guarded now than before and once Thomas breaks through those walls it will be different?

“Yeah, I guess.” Pushing up on her elbow Tia places a kiss to Becks’ forehead, only being met by a faint murmur as she says, “goodnight babe.”

The next morning Tia did nothing. She ventured home when Becks left for work, and for the first time in weeks she didn’t have Taylour or her internship. She Facetimed with Emily and told her about her date and then again with Abby, telling them of her hesitations, that something appears to be missing. Everyone told her not to judge Thomas after one date, to give him a fair chance. That ‘not Auston’ could be good for her.

Her FaceTime went off around 3 and it was Taylour wanting to tell her of a puppies he saw at the arena. Normally he loses interest in FaceTime within five minutes, this time there was twenty minutes of him talking about Tyler Seguin’s dogs that he met while Auston was training.

Mommy the puppies gave me a kiss.

The puppy was funny.

The puppy went skating.

I want a puppy mommy.

He has three puppies mommy.

The puppy…the puppy…the puppy. Everything was about the puppies. It was twenty minutes of the puppy.

“Can we get a puppy mommy?” Taylour’s eyes were glowing by this point.

“Not now, Mommy is still busy with school. When you’re older.”

“Aw,” he pouts. Standing off to the side Auston can’t help but crack a smile at Taylour’s persistence. “Can you get a puppy Daddy?” Taylour whips his head to him.

Auston’s smile falls and one slowly builds on Tia’s face, thankful she isn’t the only one being pestered by this. “Uhm,” he hesitates a bit. Auston has had dogs throughout his entire life, and he see’s himself having one at some point. It’s already hard enough managing a child while single and playing in the NHL, he doesn’t exactly have the time to train a dog. “Not right now, when you’re older.”

“But I am older,” he crosses his arms over his chest. “I am this much older, he holds up four fingers for them to see. The two of them smirk at each other through the screen, a small chuckle spilling from Tia’s lips. While it has only been two days, he is two days older than when he last asked.

Tia was even more anxious when she disconnected from the call with Taylour over Thomas’s excitement to meet him. Yes, he is nice, saying all the right things at all the right times, but is there a future with him? She has found herself in this situation before. The thought of cancelling her second date and cutting her losses crossed her mind, but instead she turned to her one friend who has the best chance of understanding her predicament.

“Your heart isn’t what it used to be,” Sarah tells her after listening to Tia explain the situation. “Before Taylour you could date anyone, fall blindly in love and only you were at risk. It’s different now because of Taylour, you could argue it’s as if your heart was reprogrammed after his birth, and you can’t let people in the way you used to.” Tia sits silently and just nods along, carefully listening to everything her friend says. “Say Taylour was Thomas’ kid and you met Auston and went on a first date with him, you don’t know if you would have let him in like you did years ago. Your heart is guarded because it’s been conditioned to think of Taylour first and you second. I’m not saying you won’t find someone and love them the way you did Auston, just that the path may not be as easy as before.”

After the call existential dread overwhelmed her. She didn’t like the idea that she may not love someone the way she did Auston, or that it could take months before she even considers letting Thomas in. What if Thomas is the person that she could be happy and have a forever with, but her own personal hurdles prevent that from happening and he walks away?

Tia decided that wasn’t going to happen. She was going to lean into Thomas, or at the very least the idea of what Thomas could be. Wearing a tight black dress that stops above her knees, Tia styled her hair perfectly into a halo around the back of her head, loose curls falling below. Needing to bring forth a little confidence, she painted her nails black and stained her lips bright red. She looked absolutely radiant.

“Sorry about that,” Thomas unlocks the door to his apartment. “I’m not normally a messy eater.”

“It’s hot and ice cream melts fast,” Tia grins, stepping into his apartment.

“Let me change and then we can go to mini putt.” Thomas walked down the hall to his room.

Tia lingered briefly in the basic entryway. A few pairs of sneakers were placed in the plain black shoe rack, and on what should be the coat rack there was a small collection of ball caps - a plain navy blue, a black Nike hat and a Raptors cap. The sound of drawers opening and closing faintly trickled from the bedroom as Tia took a few steps in the hall and poked her head into the first room she found. There was dark floor to ceiling maple bookshelves flanking the window, filled with multiple books, a few sports trophies and a picture of the rugby team. The other wall had a similar toned wooden desk, with only a lamp and framed picture of his family in the corner. It’s what hangs above the desk that catches her eye. The framed blue jersey, white lettering with a signature, his signature, etched perfectly into the 4.

“I won that at a golf tournament last fall,” Thomas explains of the jersey when he sees her staring. “Had the longest drive that day.”

“Oh nice,” her voice cracks, eyes still lingering on the jersey. She spent so much of the dinner trying to focus her attention to Thomas and the potential he brings she hadn’t once compared him to Auston, and to this point it had been going well.

“Mhm. I’m not even much of a golfer, just had a good game that day. You ready?” He acts so cavalier about it, not recognizing the significance this particular jersey has. Or maybe he does know how Auston Matthews is tethered to her, but he isn’t letting it show.

“We could…we could stay in if you want,” Tia offers. Turning her body so her ex-boyfriend’s jersey doesn’t lurk over them, she bats her eyes up at him and playfully draws a finger over his chest.

She watches his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as his eyes dart over her face. “Yeah?” He grins when she nods in response.

Grabbing her face in his hands he steps closer and ducks down. Without any hesitation he presses his lips to hers in a kiss that starts soft. She smiles into it and lets him guide her down the hall to his bedroom, never taking his lips off hers. Once her knees hit the bed, she falls onto the mattress, his body quickly landing on top.

Tia doesn’t know if it’s because her mind is playing tricks on her after seeing Auston’s jersey proudly displayed on the wall, but every time her eyes close his face is there. Every time Thomas presses his lips harder against hers, she is brought back to their first date in Zurich, and when his breathing gets heavier, hot and heavy in her ear, she is brought back to that hotel room in Helsinki where they first had sex.

It also could be that Thomas can’t quite find what he is looking for. His fingers have been thrusting inside of her for over fifteen minutes and Tia is no closer than when they started. His tongue brushed by it, but the angle quickly changed, his fingers hit it once or twice but pulled back and changed the speed. It’s clear this isn’t going to get her there.

“Thomas,” Tia breathes, tugging him up her body.

“You like that?” his mouth is on her neck; hot and wet kisses being peppered to her skin.

“Yeah,” she lies, forcing out a moan.

Rolling his hips, his now hardened dick presses right into her thigh. His breath is hot against her ear as he works to free himself from the dark denim. The sound his cock makes slapping against his stomach rips a chill through her. Bringing the foil to his lips, he tears it open with his teeth and slides the condom over his length, and Tia manages a quick peak.

While not as long as Auston, Thomas is thick. Incredibly thick. And every part of her tenses up when his tip prods at her entrance.

“You good?”

She bites her bottom lip. “Yes.”

Following the confirmation, he enters her, both of them moaning as he splits her folds and buries himself deep inside. “You okay?” he asks, noting a slight grimace hit her face.

“Yes,” she breathes out, blinking away the sight of Auston in her mind. “So good.

He begins to move inside her. Following a few slow pumps, he reaches down and grabs the back of her thigh, hooking it over his hip. Growling through a curse word, the pace quickens to fast and deep. It feels good. He feels good, building a rhythm that’s draws out her pleasure. Every time he hits her aching clit, Auston’s jersey is pressed further from her mind, every curse word uttered in her ear pushes his face out, until it’s just her and Thomas in that bed.

Arching her back as the early indications of release begins to consume her, Thomas’s thrusts become shallow and scattered. When she scratches her nails along his back Thomas hit his peak, and spills everything he has into the condom and collapses on her, moments before Tia has the chance to reach hers.

Catching his breath Thomas pops his head up and Tia forces a smile to her face. “That was awesome.” Not letting her reply, he presses his lips to hers and locks her in a fiery kiss as he softens inside of her.

Tia waits until Thomas pulls out and padded over to the bathroom to clean up before she let disappointment cross her face. Letting out a heavy exhale Tia stares up at the ceiling feeling partially responsible, it was her mind that wouldn’t turn off after all.

“Mommy!” Taylour squeals, running to her.

“Hi baby!” Tia instantly picks him up for a big bug, his head falling onto her shoulder.

“I missed you mommy!” Taylour gives her a big kiss to the cheek.

“Oh, I missed you too.” She kisses his cheek “So much.” She places another, and another, and another and pokes his side eliciting a loud squeal from him.

“How was your weekend?” she asks when he stops giggling in her arms.

“Good, I went swimming and on the swings.”

“Wow.”

“I made you a picture!” He proudly proclaims.

“You did?”

“Mhm,” he dramatically nods, dimples growing wider.

Setting the small bag on the counter, Auston unzips it and hands the picture to Taylour, who hands it to Tia. “Wow, look at this,” she smiles at him.

“I gotta get going,” Auston leans down and places a kiss to Taylour’s cheek. Barely lingering a second longer than he needed to, it still felt like a millennium. The tread of his steps fades, and he tugs the door open.

“Can we have ‘za for dinner?” Taylour’s face is glowing.

Pretending to think it over, she shakes her head. “No,” she responds. “We’re having chicken and rice.”

“I want za,” Taylour pouts. He tried to get pizza out of Auston for every dinner, and every time he said no. He thought he would have better luck with his mom.

“How about we have chicken and rice for dinner, but, I make you a milkshake to go with it?”

“Chocolate?” he asks excitedly, cheering when Tia nods her head yes.

Auston left Tia’s went to dinner with Mitch. They talked about Taylour and the upcoming season, a dog Mitch and Steph are getting in the next few weeks. Mitch didn’t ask how everything was with Tia since leaving Vegas because he knew it was bad.

He left dinner and was home at 8, and at 9 in walked Betty. Auston told her to dress comfortable, that they would watch a movie and hang out. He wore grey track pants with a Gucci sweater, a pair of comfortable slippers around a thick pair of socks.

Betty showed up in a tiiiight, strapless dress that stopped inches above her knees. Sandy blonde air held perfectly in place after a thick dousing of hairspray dark eye shadow swept across the lid, a perfectly drawn on wing with fake lashes. Auston tried not to think much of it. She looked good, amazing even, but it definitely was a lot for what was only ‘Netflix and chill’ on a Sunday night.

‘As long as she’s comfortable’ he thought to himself.

“Do you want to go out?” Betty looks up from her phone towards him, “my friend just told me about this band-“

“Yeah, I’m not really in mood to go out,” Auston shrugs her off.

“Okay,” she replies perkily, turning back towards the TV.

Not even ten minutes later her phone chimes again. “Want to go to the Green Room? There is some event, and a bunch of my friends are there.”

Auston fights to not let his eyes roll. The risk of inviting a girl over he has never met is, he has no idea what to expect. Fred has told him some horror stories of the girls he’s met over the years, but also told him that sometimes you find a couple girls that work. The ones that understand it’s not a relationship, just two people having fun and enjoying the others company. Betty falls under the former. The kind of girl purely there for him and the notoriety that accompanies him. She isn’t just sleeping with him because he is Auston Matthews, she wants the world to know she is sleeping with Auston Matthews.

“I think I’m just feeling a night in, but if you want to go-“

“Oh, no,” she quickly flashes her pearly whites. “I just thought you might want to go out, but we can stay in.”

Turning back towards the TV yet again, Betty shifts to be closer to Auston and rests her head on his shoulder. Auston just shakes his head. Everything about their interaction so far annoyed him, but he still found Betty in his bed.

“She deserves an award,” that thought rang through Auston’s mind.

The loud moaning, constant fluttering of her eyes, whining and whimpering, it was abundantly obvious 90% of it was fake. Not to say he didn’t hit the mark with his mouth, but this was extra. Showcasing her flexibility, ‘years of yoga’ she called it earlier in the night, one leg was over his broad shoulder as she raked her nails along his biceps.

Moaning. Again.

She wasn’t even that good, too focused on the sounds she made and the expressions on her face than anything else. Her body barely moved, and only did at the wrong times. Auston did most of the work, and even then, it wasn’t working. She wasn’t working.

At this point he just wants it to be done and for her to leave. If he enjoyed her company from before he might have been more inclined to see her again, but there is zero chance he will ever speak to her again. There are two other women in his inbox that both had plans tonight, and a pending application to Raya. He just has to make it through tonight and he can focus his attention on finding someone else to better occupy his time.

Pulling out he throws her leg back onto the mattress, “turn over,” he orders.

Smearing her face to the mattress, no longer willing to watch her fake facial expressions, he swiftly re-enters her. Cursing when he bottoms out, Auston barely takes time to enjoy the feeling starting a fast and feverish pace.

“Unh,” she moans out after every thrust.

Hitting harder and deeper, her entire body writhes under him and she grabs handfuls of his duvet for stability. The sound of their bodies smacking together finally muffles her sounds right as her body collapses and clenches around him, warmth spilling around his length and leaving a pool on the bed. Following a few more shallow thrusts he spills his hot white release into the condom.

He barely waits a second before he dropped her hips and slid out. Returning from the bathroom he opens a drawer and finds a clean pair of boxers and tosses a towel beside her breathless body. Walking down the hall to get some water he walks back to see her in the same spot as before.

“Hi,” she smiles weakly at him, mascara slightly smeared down her cheeks. Rolling onto her side, her naked breathless body is on display as she pats the mattress, “come cuddle.”

Walking around the room, Auston collects her clothes and sets them in a pile on the corner of the bed. “You can’t stay. I have my kid tomorrow morning.” He doesn’t even feel bad using Taylour to lie, he just needs her to leave.

“You have a kid?” It’s obvious she already knows. Even if she didn’t see the picture of Taylour on his side table or the toys that are neatly shoved to the corner of his living room, it’s wildly apparent she knows who he is. He has zero doubt she saw the article, and that one of the countless pictures he saw her taking in his living room will appear on her Instagram page by them time she steps into the elevator.

“Yes.”

“How old is he?”

“Two. And he’ll be here very early in the morning.” His tone gets firmer, struggling to disguise his impatience.

It took a bit, but Betty got dressed. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a drink and lingered at his island. She tried to make small talk, asking him more questions about Taylour. She tried to sound engaged, but her enthusiasm was even faker than her bedroom performance. It took forty-five minutes, but Betty was finally at the door putting on her shoes.

“I had fun,” she zips up her boot and stands upright.

“Me too,” he can’t even look her in the eyes.

“We should do this again, in a few days when you don’t have your kid,” she steps closer to Auston and grabs a handful of his shirt.

“I’m going back to Arizona for a bit, but if I have time,” Auston trails off, unable to even finish the lie.

“Have a good night,” she rises on her tippy toes to brush her lips to Auston’s, him barely returning the kiss.

“You too.”

‘Never in the history of time has someone taken this long to leave’ Auston thinks, trying his hardest to not roll his eyes.

“Have a good time with Tyler tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” he clicks his tongue. Reaching around her, he opens the door to the hall, “get home safe.”

The second she backed up into the hall Auston quickly shut the door and locked it, not wanting her to have the chance to return.

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[peterrparrkerr]

Hit mad falls in love with target - read on ao3

*-*

Peter waved frantically at Tony when he walked into the lab, eyes glued to a computer screen.

"Tony, quick! Look!" He demanded, nearly vibrating in his chair.

Tony made his way over, hands clasped behind his back as he leaned over Peter's shoulder.

"Isn't it awesome?" The young man asked, waving his hands around.

"What am I looking at?" Tony asked.

"Its cancer," Peter said. He points to different colored lines in the graph, all jagged and fluctuating. "This is breast cancer, and this one is pancreatic, skin, lung."

Tony hums as Peter continues to list each colored line as a different form of cancer.

"I was able to isolate the individual cells from everything else, and- look, look!"

Peter snatches Tony by the shirt sleeve and tugs him from one monitor to the one on the other side of the lab. He taps his fingers on the screen, bouncing on his heels.

"These are the cells after being treated with non-radioactive therapy," Peter said, looking up at Tony. "The number of cancer cells is cut in half within a week!"

Peter then drags Tony across the lab again, babbling excitedly as he does so. "Do you know what this means? This means we can start human testing! And we can market the treatment for practically nothing!"

He shows Tony a live feed of the treatment in action from a TV monitor.

"Think about the possibilities," Peter grinned. "Anyone can get treated, no matter their financial standing. And the treatment isn't as harmful as chemo or radiation. It doesn't attack the body as a whole, it isolates the cancer cells and leaves the rest of the body alone.

"No more hair loss or side effects. And we could cut remission in half too," Peter said. "Just think, this time next year, we could start selling to hospitals all over the world."

Tony smiles down at the younger man. He had known within the first day of meeting Peter that he wouldn't be able to follow through. He's glad he hadn't.

"Have you told anybody else?" He asks casually.

"Ned knows," Peter said. "And Bruce, but they were here when it happened."

"Where are they now?"

Peter gives Tony a wry smile, still too excited about his treatment working.

"I sent them home a couple hours ago," he said. "We've all been awake for almost three days, so I'm sure they've gone to bed already."

"You should be in bed too, don't you think?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.

Peter waves him off, shaking his head as he goes to his work desk. "I'll sleep later," he said, pulling his lab coat off and draping it over the chair.

He's dressed in his usual outfit; comfortable pants and a button up.

"Plus, I knew you'd make your rounds around this time, and I wanted to tell you," Peter said with a grin, grabbing his personal items.

That was part of Tony's cover. A janitor for the building Peter worked for. Hes wearing a navy blue jump suit, though he's left the cart out in the hallway.

"I'll walk you to your car," Tony hums, leading the way out. When he'd first started this, he'd offered his company to get closer to Peter -to find his vulnerabilities.

Now though, he does it because he's protecting the young scientist.

He'd skipped out with 45 thousand dollars paid to kill the boy, but as the days had gone on, and Peter had grown comfortable with him, Tony realized he couldn't steal him from the world.

Peter was incredible. He worked tirelessly to find a cure for cancer. He's already created a new insulin for diabetes that he's made available to everyone for only $10 a month -something not many other medical professionals liked.

Peter was making enemies left and right, and Tony decided to make it his job to keep him breathing. If not for the rest of his life, then for as long as it takes for the young scientist to see an end to cancer.

The boy wasn't getting much in terms of money for his creations. In fact, from what Tony's come to learn, the boy doesn't own a car, and rents an apartment with his aunt. 

He sees enough to live paycheck to paycheck and this new treatment won't do much to better his life, but he's not concerned with money. He wants to make Healthcare more effective and affordable.

Tony's got morals. Enough of them to know when a hit is a bad investment. That didn't stop him from taking his payment anyway.

The two make it to the car park. Its dark, the overhead lights buzzing annoyingly. Its empty, save for a couple cars belonging to a few of the security guards, and the car Peter shares with his aunt.

It's an older model, grey paint chipping and metal beneath rusting near the wheels. Peter talks animatedly beside him, lands flailing in front of him.

Tony glances around them, scowling as he takes in the familiar cement structure.

"Wait," Tony says, just as Peter's pulling the keys from his pocket. They're a couple feet away from the car, and the hairs on Tony's arms and neck stand on end.

"What is it?" Peter asked curiously, reaching for the door handle.

It's just as Peter grips the handle that Tony sees the wire connected to the metal lock on the other side of the glass.

Tony is quick to react, grabbing Peter by the arms and wrenching him away from the door.

Peter yelps in surprise, but its cut out by the sound of a small explosion. Tony braces for the blast of air that knocks the two off their feet, and grits his teeth at the heat that follows.

Peter's pressed against the cement, Tony weighing down on him. His ears ring, but he quickly gets to his feet, unzipping his jumpsuit and grabbing the .9 mm from the waistband of his jeans.

The car is ablaze, crackle-popping and sizzling. Its just the cab thats on fire, but Tony knows its only a matter of seconds before the flames reach the engine and the fuel line.

Tony looks around him, trying to find the culprit -though he knows from experience that the man won't be here.

He grabs Peter by the armpits and pulls him to his feet. Blood smears against his forehead and jaw. His hands and arms are scraped up and Tony can tell his knees are busted too, but it doesn't look like anything damaging.

"We gotta go," Tony urges, already half dragging the younger back towards the building.

"You-you have a gun," Peter gapes, stumbling after Tony, arm in the older's hard grip. "Why do you have a gun?"

Tony reaches the door for the stairwell.

"I'm a hired gun," Tony said, glancing up, then down, gun following his eyeline before pushing Peter towards the stairs going up.

"I thought you were a janitor," Peter gasped, climbing the stairs and swaying. Tony places his free hand on Peter's lower back.

"Thats just a front," Tony confessed. "We got to get you out of here."

"Someone blew up my car," Peter said, panting as they continue up to the first floor. "Aunt May is gonna kill me."

"Not if Buck doesn't kill you first," Tony grunted, pulling Peter out of the stairwell and into the main lobby.

Tony's car is around the side of the building, but its open to attack. Tony can't keep Peter trapped inside the building though, so he risks it.

Their feet slap loudly on the asphalt as they run for the nondescript black SUV Tony had taken to driving.

He checks around the vehicle, under and inside before issuing Peter into the back seat.

Tires screech as Tony peels out of the parking lot.

"What- whats happening? Tony, what- why do-"

"Someones trying to kill you, Peter," Tony said, blowing past the guard tower at the exit of the parking lot.

"But why?" Peter asked dumbly, voice slurring slightly as more blood turns the side of his face crimson.

"I'll answer all your questions when we're safe," Tony promised, eyes frantically shifting from the area ahead of him to the rear view mirror.

Peter must really be feeling the effects of his head slamming into the concrete, because he doesn't protest.

"Lay down," Tony orders, merging into traffic and slowing down. "Lay low until I say."

Peter does -Tony thinks mostly because of his head injury. Tony relaxes a little, knowing the scientist won't be gunned down in the back seat.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere safe," Tony answered, keeping an eye behind him.

He doesn't see a tail, but he takes a round-about way to his safe house, just outside of Queens.

When they get to the small cabin, Tony checks the building before helping Peter inside.

"I think I have a concussion," Peter mumbles, swaying on his feet as Tony guides him to the kitchen chair.

"I don't doubt it," Tony agrees, setting his gun down on the table beside Peter's elbow before grabbing the first aid kit.

He pulls another chair over in front of the young scientist and opens the red box.

"Let me see your hands," Tony orders. Peter does, palms up. Tony begins to clean them and his arms.

"Tony," Peter says, breaking the silence. Tony doesn't say anything. He reaches up to clean the blood from the side of Peter's cheek.

"Is your name actually Tony?"

Tony makes eye contact before nodding.

"And you're a hired gun?" Peter asks, slightly breathless. "Like, like a hitman?"

"Yes," Tony answers, reaching the cut on Peter's hairline. Peter winces, but doesn't pull away.

"You kill people for a living?"

"Yes."

It takes Peter a couple seconds, but it seems to hit him. Hes bolting to his feet, the chair clattering behind him.

Tony leans back into the chair, watching as Peter begins to pace.

"What- Tony, you have to tell me whats going on," Peter demands, hand on his head. Tony knows from experience that pacing tends to help the scientist expell excess energy.

"I will," Tony nods. Peter continues his pacing. Back and forth beside the kitchen counter.

"Why- why are people trying to kill me?" He demanded. "Who blew up my car?"

Tony sets the paper towels down on the table, knowing Peter won't sit still for him to properly tend to him.

"The one who blew up your car is another hitman," Tony said. "Goes by the name Winter Soldier."

"You called him Buck," Peter said, pointing an accusatory finger at Tony, eyes narrowed.

"I did," Tony nodded. "Hitmen tend to run in the same circles, though we don't always like each other. Bucky was probably hired to finish the job."

"Finish the job," Peter repeated dumbly. "I'm the job?"

Tony nods, once more letting Peter process. He knew Peter would figure it out without Tony's help. He was smart.

"Finish the job means someone already tried to- to kill me," Peter said, panting as he continued to pace. The wound at his hairline is bleeding sluggishly, dripping down his temple and towards his jaw.

Peter wipes at it without thought, smearing blood against his cheek. He pauses to look down at his hand, fingers glistening in red.

He touches his forehead again, as if remembering he's still injured, then turns to Tony, accusation and fear in his Bambi brown eyes.

"You," he said softly, in disbelief. "You were hired to kill me, weren't you."

"I was," Tony nodded.

"But you haven't," Peter said. Tony can practically see the gears turning behind his eyes. "And, and now whoever hired you hired the Winter Soldier."

Tony only nods. Peter takes a shuddering inhale and has to grip the counter with a bloody hand to stabilize himself.

"I'm- I'm- who- who would want to-to kill me?!"

"The payment was anonymous," Tony said. "Thats how it works. But whoever it is is threatened by you."

Peter looks at Tony incredulously. "Me? Why me? I'm the least threatening person -like- ever!"

"You've cost Big Pharma millions with your insulin," Tony said. "You've patented it, so they can't take it and upcharge the way they've been doing. And if your treatment for cancer is a success, you'd be costing them even more."

Peter takes a moment to process that before he nods. "Right, yeah. I knew I was going to make a lot of people mad about that, but. But I never expected anyone to actually try to kill me."

"Money is a powerful motive," Tony said, a little too much experience leaking into his tone.

Peter hears it, because he stops his pacing, shoulders dropping. Exhaustion seems to pull him towards the floor like an anvil tied to his spine.

He sways a little, and Tony's about to offer him the chair again, but he moves to it willingly. When he sits, their knees are barely touching, and he blinks dazedly at his bloody hand.

Tony grabs a clean rag and leans forward to clean up the blood from Peter's head. The younger lets him, still processing and no doubt sluggish from the concussion.

"Why didn't you?" Peter asked after Tony had taped gauze to his hairline. It was patchy and poorly done, but it would help.

"Why didn't I what," Tony hummed, using an alcoholic wet wipe to clean the remaining blood from Peter's hands. The boy winces at the burn to his scraped palms.

"Kill me," he said, swallowing thickly. "You had plenty of opportunity."

Tony sighed, setting the wipes down before leaning forward and looking Peter in the eye.

"Because I believe in the work you're doing," he said honestly. "And I'm going to make sure you finish it."

Peter blinks once, twice, before breaking eye contact and sighing, body eating to melt into the chair as the air leaves his lungs.

"Come on," Tony said, standing up and slipping the gun into the waistband of his pants. Then offering his hand. "This place is safe. Theres a bed you can sleep in."

"I shouldn't sleep with a concussion," Peter said weakly, taking Tony's offered hand anyway.

"Its mild, I'm sure you'll be fine," Tony mused, heading deeper into the cabin to the bedroom.

The bedroom isn't anything special. A twin bed in the corner, a four drawer dresser and a blackout curtain.

Peter climbs onto the bed, not bothering with the covers or taking his shoes off. Tony thinks its best he sleep with them on anyway, in case Bucky finds them.

Tony moves to leave, grabbing the handle, and Peter bolts upright again, eyes wide.

"You're okay," Tony promises. "I'll be right outside."

Peter gives the barest shake of his head. "Stay here, please," he says softly.

Tony nods, shutting the door and turning off the light before making his way to the side of the bed. Theres an old step stool there, and he sits down at the head of the bed.

Peter lays back down, body too tense to ever fall asleep. Tony keeps his ears attuned to any noise that could alert him to Bucky, or anyone else, gun sitting perfectly stop on his knee, finger off the trigger, but ready at a moments notice.

"Tony?"

"Yes, Peter."

Peter shuffles around, and Tony turns his head just in time to feel pillow soft lips connect with the corner of his mouth.

He can't help but smirk as Peter settles back down. "Thanks for not killing me."

Tony chuckles at that, leaning his head against the wall. "I may be a hitman, but I've got morals," he says into the dark room. "Besides, nobody likes cancer."

Peter laughs tiredly at that before reaching his hand out and grabbing Tony's. Their fingers interlock, and Tony doesn't really know which one of them initiated it.

"You're going to be okay," Tony continued. "I wont let anyone hurt you. You're safe with me."

"I know."

[aliendes]

Natural Borns - Chapter Four

Banner made by @thebannershop​

Series info/genre: Angst, fluff, (possible) smut NSFW due to darker themes

Pairings: ot7 x fem reader (eventual)

Warnings: mentions of sadness, indecent thoughts? maybe, if you squint. it gets a little steamy, I suppose, but mostly just fluffy sadness, if that’s a thing. This series will have different trigger warnings listed for each chapter (if there are any), but as a whole, this series will include violence, mentions of depression & other mental illnesses, cursing, abuse, drugs/alcohol, some shitty medical descriptions because i am NOT a doctor, self-esteem issues, fluff, and possible smut in future chapters (but that’s undecided). i will add more warnings/tags in the future if there are any.

Description: In the year 2613, over half of the world’s population are what scientists consider ‘designer babies’. YN is a small town girl who is a true natural born, someone born naturally without he help of a lab or gene splicing. Her DNA is greatly sought after, but what is she willing to do to protect it?

Word count: 8k~ (whoops so sorry. if you like longer chapters like this, let me know!)

A/N: *deep breath* ok here is chapter 4. things are starting to heat up, but i cut this chapter in two because it was like over 12k long.... i go back to work tomorrow, so updates may start slowing down, but i’m hoping to post updates every Sunday night. i was feeling a little bit bogged down last week, not seeing as much influx with chapter three than i have with the other chapters. if you enjoy reading, please reblog so others can see it, too. thank you, as always. xx - Des

Updated: 8/9/2020

But the second he took one look at you, standing outside, wet and bloody, saw the look in your big beautiful eyes as he so heartlessly demanded things from you, he knew he stood no chance. 

Yoongi sat in his makeshift office on an old torn recliner they found in the warehouse. Surprisingly, the warehouse had been decently furnished when they found it. Granted, it was all old, worn furniture, but furniture nonetheless. The building was incredibly old, but it was also very large and had a lot of empty rooms on two levels. The entire place was made out of concrete, meaning it hasn’t seen much weathering over the years. It was a place they could call home for now. 

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and stared at his beloved laptop in front of him. He wasn’t trying to think about you, no, in fact, he wanted nothing more than to erase the memory of you. Try all he might, his thoughts kept wandering back to the scared, small girl he saw earlier tonight. He let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes, letting his head loll back. 

The blonde man was snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of footsteps outside his door. He picked his head up and spun around in his seat right as Hoseok came through the doorway. 

“Hey,” Hoseok said, leaning against the doorframe, “I heard they found her.” His tone was indifferent, not happy, nor sad. Hoseok didn’t really have an opinion on you yet, voicing to Namjoon he didn’t really mind either way if they found you or not.

“Have you seen her yet?” Yoongi asked the red head knowing he hadn’t, as his demeanor would’ve changed the moment he did.

Hoseok shook his head, confirming Yoongi’s suspicions. “Good,” was all Yoongi said in response.

Hoseok gave him a puzzled look, cocking his head to the side. A bright grin started to take over his face as he took in the disgruntled look on Yoongi’s. “Are you letting her get under your skin that quickly, Yoongs?” He asked the older man in a teasing voice. “Is that why you’re hiding away while they fix her up?”

Yoongi’s blonde head snapped up at Hoseok’s words. “What do you mean ‘fix her up’?”

Hoseok’s smile started to slowly fade from his face, leaving a knowing smirk in its place. “She was pretty banged up from what Jungkook said. Poor boy was distraught when he came running into my room earlier.” Hoseok watched Yoongi’s face closely as his lips pursed into a thin line and he tried to act as if he didn’t care about you. Hoseok could see right through him.

Yoongi tried to keep his breathing steady and stared Hoseok right in the eye. “Who cares,” he shrugged as he turned back around in his chair and started typing away at his laptop. 

“Who cares?” Hoseok asked rhetorically, “I think you do.” The red head walked over to Yoongi’s chair and put his hands on the back of it, pulling it down a bit so he could look into Yoongi’s eyes. He raised a questioning brow at the hacker, waiting for some kind of response.

“I don’t care about her,” he scoffed, “I don’t even know her.” Yoongi looked away from Hoseok as he spoke, knowing his closest friends would be able to see his lie. He didn’t want it to be a lie, what he was saying he wanted wholeheartedly to be true, but he knew it wasn’t. Why did he care about you? He really didn’t know you. But as Hoseok chuckled and walked away from the chair with a breathy ‘yeah right’, Yoongi’s thoughts just drifted to you.

“Please stay still,” Jin pleaded with you for the third time. You were currently laying on what you assumed was his bed while he took a look at all your wounds. He was looking at your bruised, and possibly fractured, according to him, ribs. It was painful and you weren’t sure how he expected you to stay completely still. 

You had been laying here for the last twenty minutes, staring up at the ceiling, going over your conversation with Namjoon prior to letting Jin take a look at your wounds. You had learned that the five of them had been staying here for the last three weeks. They stumbled upon the place when exploring the surrounding forest. It was devoid of life, but a lot of furniture and supplies had been left from workers or from kids who threw parties here in the past. They made it into a base of sorts, where they could live and work. Work, you learned, was mostly Yoongi trying to hack into Big Hit’s, and other companies, systems, while Namjoon dealt with contacting people and said companies to get more information. Apparently, they had found out about you through Jimin, who had overheard some of the lab techs talking about a female natural born living on the outskirts of Seoul. You still weren’t certain what exactly made you all ‘special’, but Namjoon had said it had something to do with the markers in your DNA that made you desirable to these designer baby companies.

Namjoon had also told you that they were planning on going to Big Hit soon, in hopes of getting Jimin and Taehyung out. As they helped you limp to Jin’s room, he told you that he and Jungkook were going to help Yoongi and Hoseok with the planning tonight, and told you to get some rest.

When you first got to Jin’s room, you were pleasantly surprised by the cleanliness of it. For an old warehouse, they really tried to make it feel homey. Seokjin’s room was small and looked like it used to be some kind of office or file room. There was a small double mattress in the corner, which you were currently laying on, a small desk on the opposite side of the room, a small wooden end table, and a couple of backpacks and duffle bags laying about. While everything in the room looked old and worn down, it still smelled nice. It smelled like Jin, like pine and soap. Speaking of soap…

“Hey - how do you guys have lights and running water here?” You were curious, previous experiences made you think this place was totally abandoned. 

Jin looked up from poking at your ribs, “Oh - Yoongi. He was able to get the electric and water companies to turn stuff on under a fake name,” he trailed off after noticing the apprehensive look on your face, “I know it’s not the most ethical way to go about things, but we don’t really have much of a choice right now.” The solemn look on his face told you that he regretted their actions, but truly had no other choice. 

You nodded at his answer and jumped a bit when he went back to putting cream on your ribcage. “Please - stay still YN.”

“Sorry, sorry. It just hurts,” you groaned out and he finished his work. Jin let out a short sigh before pulling your shirt back down your torso. He picked up one of your hands and started to unravel the bandages to clean and rebandage it. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll try to be quick,” he gave you a quick smile and gently ran the back of his knuckles along your bicep. You tried to ignore the way his action made you feel, he was just trying to comfort you, right? He was a caring person, and he probably just felt bad seeing you in pain. That’s what you told yourself anyway.

You went back to staring at the ceiling, biting the inside of your cheek and Jin disinfected your cuts and scrapes. The feeling of his hands on you leaving you confused. 

Once Seokjin had finished tending to your wounds, he gave you an old t-shirt and some sweatpants to change into before giving you a little privacy. After you had changed, you hobbled back over to the mattress and sat down. You stared around his room for a moment, finally letting the events of the day sink in.

You inhaled a deep breath as you thought back to everything that had happened. In just a few short hours, you had met these strange men who took you out to a forest and made you question your entire existence, witnessed your father make some kind of deal or exchange with a man who was likely trying to take you away, and ran away from your life, your family, and your friends. You didn’t even know who you could trust anymore, aside from probably Mina and Woo, but who knew when, or if, you would ever see them again. The thought alone made tears prick at the back of your eyes. You looked up to the ceiling to try and stop the hot tears from falling, to no avail. What were you getting yourself into?

As you felt a tear roll down your cheek, you heard a knock at the heavy door of Jin’s room. Quickly, you wiped the back of your hand at your face with a sniffle, before telling whoever was knocking to come in. 

To your surprise, it was Jungkook who walked through the door, not Jin or Namjoon like you had expected. You blinked owlishly up at him for a moment as he shut the door and ventured into the room. He took a few steps in your direction, hands behind his back, and looked even more shy than you had seen him earlier. 

“H-hey, noona?” He timidly asked, eyes locked on the floor.

Your eyes softened at his hesitancy. You made a sound of affirmation, urging him to continue speaking. Slowly he brought his hands from behind him back and extended them in your direction. He was holding a water bottle and a container of what looked like pain relievers. “Jin-hyung wanted me to tell you to take two of these,” he started, walking towards you with his hands outstretched like he was feeding a tiger, “and to drink the whole bottle.” 

You gave Jungkook a small smile as you took his offering. He seemed so sweet in that moment, you couldn’t stop yourself, “Jungkook?” Your voice made the poor boy jump a little, but he relaxed as soon as he saw your smile. His big doe eyes somehow got slightly bigger as he nodded his head at you. “How old are you?” You asked him, head cocked to the side.

“Twenty two,” he said easily. He’s only a year younger than you, it was odd to you he was so timid, almost childlike at times. You hummed in approval. You truly did want to get to know these men, and Jungkook seemed like such a sweet guy. He was shy, but you could tell he had a kind soul. You wondered what had happened to him to make him so quiet. You hoped you would find out with time. You had a sort of affinity toward him. Maybe it was because he had literally carried you through a forest without so much as a complaint. You weren’t entirely sure. 

The boy hesitated for a moment before turning around to walk out of the room. Just as he was about to reach the doorknob, he stopped and turned around to face you. “Noona?” His voice was so small, you almost asked him to repeat himself. Instead, you made a noncommittal noise, urging him to continue. “How old are you?” You wanted to coo at how cute Jungkook looked right now. Cheeks rosy, head slightly cocked to the side, eyes wide with mirth, almost like he was thankful for a reason to speak to you. 

You gave the boy a bright smile before answering, “Twenty three.”

Jungkook stared at you for just a second longer, before nodding once and leaving the room.

“Who the fuck is Pearl?” 

Hoseok shrugged his shoulders, not even looking up from the game he was playing on his phone. 

“Are you even listening to me Hobi?” Yoongi was aggravated, to say the least. Namjoon, Seokjin, and Jungkook brought you to their base last night and he hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep. Namjoon brought him your phone, asking him to remove data from it so it couldn’t be tracked. He did so immediately, but the damn thing was burning a whole in the back of his head while he tried to sleep on the old, black leather couch in his room. Eventually, he got up from tossing and turning, and decided - against his better judgement - to look through the device. He knew it was wrong, knew it was a huge invasion of privacy, but he didn’t particularly care for you. Besides, he was curious, who could blame him?

The red head, currently sitting upside down on Yoongi’s couch, just huffed in response. Yoongi just rolled his eyes and spun around in the old, squeaky rolling chair. He had your phone open on his desk. It was early in the morning now, he figured you and the rest of the boys, aside from Hoseok, were probably still asleep. Hoseok tended to be an extremely early riser, yet still went to bed late at night. Yoongi never understood how he had so much energy with so little sleep.

Yoongi had already looked through your apps and photos. You didn’t have any social media that he could tell. Your apps were incredibly boring, just a few games and a notepad app that he found some of your notes on. Mostly things like grocery lists and dreams that you had. Nothing too interesting. Your photos weren’t very exciting either, mostly pictures of trees and fruit. You had some photos of your mom and dad and a couple of animals he assumed were yours. You seemed to live a pretty boring life, based on what was on your phone. The cynical side of him wanted to tell himself this meant you were a boring person, but he knew that was an unfair assumption.

The last thing Yoongi decided to snoop through, were your text messages. While he hadn’t found much there, aside from conversations with your mom, dad, and a group chat with someone named “Mina” and “Woo”, he did notice how everyone seemed to refer to you as ‘Pearl’. Aside from when your mother called you by your name yesterday, you were almost always referred to as Pearl. This piqued Yoongi’s interest, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe this was evidence as to why the others shouldn’t trust you? It’s a simple nickname, but Yoongi was suspicious of you from the beginning. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he knew he was looking for reasons to hate you, to make the others hate you. 

Yoongi nearly jumped straight out of his skin when the door to his room was swung open with such ferocity it slammed into the wall. Hoseok jumped straight up from the couch and Yoongi nearly fell out of his chair at the noise. “Jesus kid!” Yoongi yelled as he righted himself.

Jungkook had the graciousness to look ashamed as he entered the elder’s room. “Sorry hyung, I- I didn’t mean to,” he murmured without meeting the eyes of his older friends. 

Hoseok sighed and relaxed a bit before pushing a hand through his bright locks and announcing he was going to ‘find something better to do’. Jungkook nodded at him as he left and took Hoseok’s previous spot on the couch. Yoongi surveyed Jungkook as he sat down. He looked tired, like really tired. He could see the small bags forming under the youngest’s eyes, a purple tint to his nearly perfect skin. Yoongi also noticed how skinny the kid was looking these days. He narrowed his eyes at the boy, “You doing ok, kid?”

Jungkook lowered his head into his hands and rested them on his knees, shaking his head back and forth slightly, “No hyung. I- I miss them,” Yoongi could hear the tears that were threatening to fall. He always did have a soft spot for Jungkook. He rose from his seat and sat down gingerly next to Kook on the couch, making the leather creaked beneath him, and slung his arm around the dark haired boy.

“I know, I miss them too. We all do,” he bagan, running a soothing hand up and down Jungkook’s upper arm, “we will get them back, Jungkook. I promise.” Jungkook lifted his head and looked at his hyung, eyes glazed over. He believed him, he really did, he just missed his best friends. 

Jungkook nodded his head as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Yoongi thumbed at the younger’s lip sweetly, prompting him to release it. He knew Jungkook’s stress, he understood it. He missed the twins too, and he was working his hardest to get them back. Soon. He could feel it. 

Last night had gone about as well as you thought it would. After Jungkook left you alone, Jin never returned to his room. You took the painkillers they offered you, but you thought for sure someone would be back to check on you, and you didn’t feel comfortable enough to wander around the place. You also felt a little bad for taking Jin’s bed when he had been so gracious to you. So after a while of waiting - and mentally hoping - for someone to walk in, you tried your hardest to fall asleep, to no avail. You tossed and turned in Jin’s small bed for what felt like hours, but you didn’t really know how long it had been. There was no clock in the room, you didn’t have your phone, and there were no windows. You guessed you finally fell asleep sometime in the early morning and had a very short, fitful rest before Jin was coming in to wake you.

“YN?” You heard Seokjin’s soft voice from the doorway. You blearily blinked away sleep as you tried to fully regain consciousness. As you rolled over in bed to face the door, you saw Jin standing there with a plate of something that smelled absolutely delicious. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were, but your stomach was beginning to rumble at the sight of food. You remembered the last time you ate anything was yesterday morning at breakfast.

Jin walked a little further into the room and sat down at the edge of the bed. He wanted to laugh at how entranced you were by the food in his hands, and at the erratic way your hair was sticking up. “Hungry?” He asked, arm outstretched towards you with the plate. You let out a small yawn and reached your arms above your head with a small pout. The large t-shirt you were wearing - Jin’s t-shirt - rode up slightly as you stretched and Jin thought you had to be the cutest thing he’s ever seen. As you finished your much needed stretch, you nodded your head with one eye open, taking the plate. 

“Thank you, I’m so hungry,” you mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. Jin’s plump lips upturned into a bright smile as you started to eat a piece of toast from the plate. “You’re able to cook here?”

“There’s a small kitchen,” Jin nodded as he spoke, “it looks like it was an old staff lounge or something? We aren’t entirely sure what this building used to be, but it seemed like some people used to live here. There were beds, couches, even an old television when we got here.”

Now, feeling a little more awake, you nodded along with Jin, “Where do you get the food?” 

Seokjin didn’t even miss a beat before answering, happy you were coming out of your shell a bit, “I go to the market at least once a week,” he smiled, “I take Jungkook with me sometimes…” he started to trail off a bit, looking away from your eyes, almost like he was embarrassed. “That’s actually how we found you.”

You stopped chewing, mid-bite of scrambled egg, “Found me?” You mumbled, mouth full. 

Jin nodded, looking bashful, “Jimin told us he overheard people at the lab talking about a girl, a natural born living in this town. We honestly didn’t think we would find you here,” Seokijn rubbed the back of his neck as he continued, still avoiding your gaze, “We came out here and found this warehouse, it ended up being perfect for us to stay in,” as he continued his eyes finally met yours, he mentally noted how cute you looked, cheeks puffed out with food staring at him, “we needed food, so me and Jungkook went to the market. When I saw you, I knew.”

Your stomach was doing flips at Seokjin’s admission, and you weren’t entirely sure why. They were harmless words, maybe even a little reassuring. They weren’t stalking you, they happened to stumble upon you. So you weren’t sure why you were suddenly feeling so shy. His words almost sounded like a love confession you would hear in a blockbuster movie about soulmates. You could feel your cheeks heat slightly as you finally swallowed the eggs. “What do you mean, you knew? I don’t remember seeing you, or talking to you,” you prodded for some more information.

For a moment, Jin just stared into your eyes, and you thought he wasn’t going to answer you. Then, his plush lips parted as he quietly murmured, “Well, YN, you’re breathtakingly beautiful. I hope you know that,” he never broke eye contact as he uttered his next words, “and now that I’ve gotten to know you more, I can say you have a beautiful soul, too.” You were reeling. Were you the female lead of this made for TV movie your head conjured up?

You stared back at Seokjin with wide, glazed eyes, lips slightly parted in shock. No one has ever said anything like that to you, aside from Mina telling you how beautiful you were and how jealous she was of your skin. Jin was gazing at you as if you were the only person in the world, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel incredible. You were high on his attention, you loved the way your stomach was erupting with butterflies. 

You were still seated on his bed, legs crossed and hands sitting in your lap, food forgotten next to you. Seokjin was still staring intently into your eyes, with an intensity you’ve never felt before. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted his hand and went to lightly brush his knuckles against your cheek bone. The action made you flush, eyes closing at the soft feeling of his hand. Just as you were leaning into his touch, a soft smile on his lips, the door to his room opened, causing both of you to jump backwards, eyes shooting towards the person intruding on such an intimate moment. 

“Jin,” Namjoon looked slightly embarrassed, cheeks pink realizing what he walked into, “we need you in Yoongi’s room.” He bowed his head once at you both before turning on his heels and walking away. 

Seokjin cleared his throat and you found it endearing how his neck and ears were turning a beet red. “S-sorry,” he sputtered out, “I - I’ll be back in a little bit?” He sounded unsure as he scrubbed a hand down his face. You gave him a small smile and nodded, a little sad at the loss of companionship you were just starting to get used to. You couldn’t quite place the emotion you were feeling, but you knew it was nothing like the platonic friendship you felt for Woo or Mina. Jin stood up from his bed, making his way towards, before giving you some parting words, “I’ll have Jungkook come show you where the showers are.” 

After your encounter with Jin this morning, you were reeling from the onslaught of emotions you were feeling. You weren’t given much time to think too much about it though, because once you finished your breakfast, Jungkook came to give you a short, and rather quiet, tour of the building. 

Like Seokjim promised, Jungkook showed you where the one bathroom was located, which looked more like a gym locker room than a bathroom. There were shower stalls, benches, and a couple of toilets and sinks along with a wall of lockers. It looked to be a changing room for employees of the mill. Jungkook had brought with him your black linen pants, washed by Jin according to him, and another large t-shirt. He didn’t want to admit it was his this time, and blushed fiercely as he handed them over to you, along with a clean towel.

Jungkook kindly showed you how to work the showers, helping you turn one on because of your hands. He also sweetly helped unwrap your hands and feet so you could properly shower and clean the cuts and scrapes. After he was done, he turned away, telling you he would wait on the benches for you to finish. As he was retreating, you reached out your hand to grab his forearm, “Wait - I- I can’t really lift my arms up,” you mumbled, warily looking up into his wide deer-in-headlights eyes, “can- can you help me?” You’ve never been shy about your body or nudity, but something about Jungkook seeing you nearly naked, made you feel like a shy teenager again. 

You thought Jungkook was about to spontaneously combust the way he was staring at you. His shoulders were squared and nearly meeting his ears, lips pursed into a tight line, and eyes the size of dinner plates. You almost laughed at his expression, but then remembered how awkward this situation was for the both of you.

“I- I - ye- yes,” Jungkook was a stuttering mess, but wanted to offer you his help regardless. He felt like he was on fire with the way his cheeks and neck were heating. Slowly, you retracted your hand from his forearm when you felt like he wasn’t about to bolt out of the room. Jungkook carefully reached for the hem and your shirt and you turned around so your back was facing him to make this all less embarrassing. The boy audibly gulped as he slowly pulled your shirt upwards removing it from your head first, pushing it towards your front. He stepped closer to you so there was barely an inch of space between your now bare back and his front. Reaching his arms around you, he gripped the shirt and slid it down your arms, removing it from you completely. His fingers ever so slightly brushed the skin on your arms and made a shiver run up your spine. Jungkook didn’t miss the way you let out a strangled breath, almost inaudible.

 He needed to cool off, quickly. 

You quietly thanked him, quickly covering your breasts with your arms, as he turned away still holding Jin’s shirt and made his way out of the bathroom without another word. 

After your much needed shower you struggled to dress yourself, but you would rather cut off your own arm than go through the embarrassment of finding Jungkook to help you again. Once you were finally decent, you found Jungkook sitting on the benches outside of the shower room, just like he said he would be. He has visibly calmed down, now wearing a calm expression. When he noticed you walk into the room, he gave you a small smile. “Feel better?” 

You nodded enthusiastically, happy to feel clean again.

Next, Jungkook showed you the small kitchen that Jin spoke of earlier. It was more like a kitchenette, almost like an employee break room. It had a tiny refrigerator, cabinets that were filled with dry goods, a sink, and one electric burner. The building was so old, you were shocked to see the kitchen in such great condition. At the shocked look on your face, Jungkook told you that Jin really loved to cook and worked really hard to clean it up and keep it that way. Your face flushed at the reminder of the older man who was making your heart feel things just this morning. The thought of him caring so much about his kitchen, moving about in here cooking the delicious food you ate for breakfast, made your stomach twist in a pleasant way. 

The last place Jungkook showed you was a mostly empty room on the second floor of the building. He told you that they didn’t use the second story much, considering the state of disrepair of the place, they didn’t want to risk getting hurt up here. But this room, Jungkook told you, was his favorite place to hang out. It was a rectangular concrete room that had a large expanse of windows on the far  wall. Some of the windows were broken, allowing the breeze from outside to enter. In front of the windows sat a small tan sofa that looked like it had seen better days. Jungkook led you over to the windows, and you quickly realized why he liked this room so much. 

You could see the entire quarry from up here. It was beautiful. At the bottom of the quarry was water that took on an incredible aquamarine color, turning almost green in the sunlight. The water was completely still, no disruptions on the surface, making it look serene. Along the bank of water, there were lush, green bushes and trees swaying slightly in the wind. On the other side of the quarry, you could see a small patch of yellow and purple flowering plants. Along the steep sides of the cliffs, you could see the smooth surface of exposed marble. Over the years, the marble has become weathered and looked smooth to the touch. The late morning sun, high in the sky, was reflecting off of the stone in a way that made it sparkle. It was an incredible sight, and you were surprised you’d never seen it like this before, having been out here in the past. 

As you stood there, taking in the breathtaking scenery, Jungkook was taking in you. You had a look of mirth in your eyes, and he mentally patted himself on the back for bringing you up here. He took in your side profile, admiring your sharp features that looked as if they were carved from the very marble you were currently staring at. He loved the way your soft lips were forming a small pout, eyes focused on the sight in front of you. He didn’t realize he was grinning at you, until you turned around with a look of shock on your face.

A grin spread across your face as you saw Jungkook’s smile for the first time. It reminded you of a bunny, large front teeth on display for you to admire. You stood there for a moment, smiling at each other before you both started giggling. “Thank you for showing me this, Jungkook,” you crooned once the laughter had subsided. He just smiled at you in return before looking back out towards the quarry. You stayed in a comfortable silence after that, before Jungkook deemed it time to head back downstairs. 

Downstairs, Jungkook led you to a room that was right in the middle of the long hallway that contained all the other rooms. “This is Yoongi-hyung’s room,” he cautioned, hand on the door, “don’t worry, Joon-hyung told him to be nice,” he rushed out, seeing the fearful look on your pretty features. 

You were still uncertain, but nodded at Jungkook anyways, prompting him to open the door. Jungkook waited patiently for you to enter the room on your own with no pressure from him. You peeked around the corner to find the occupants of the room all staring right at you. You purse your lips into a tight line and avert your gaze to your newfound safe harbor, Seokjin, who was sitting on a black leather couch. His eyes softened at your uncomfortable look before scooting over to make room for you on the couch, patting the seat next to him, inviting you over. You hesitantly walked over and plopped down on the soft cushion.

Jin rubbed a large hand on your shoulder briefly to calm you down before placing both hands in his lap. As you felt yourself relax a bit, you took in your surroundings. Jungkook was still standing near the door, leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He looked oddly stoic, shedding the shy persona he usually wore. The room was fairly large, or at least, larger than the rest of the rooms you’ve been in. Against the right wall was the black leather couch you and Jin were currently sat on, and to your right against the far wall were two arm chairs, one of which was occupied by Namjoon. Sat in a desk chair in front of what looked like an old corporate desk, was Yoongi, with multiple laptops and devices sprawled out in front of him. Leaning against the wall behind Yoongi was another man, one you didn’t recognize, but you assumed was Hoseok. He was staring intently at you. His expression was unreadable, not cold, but not welcoming either. He looked intense with bright red hair, a sharp jawline that looked like it could cut diamonds, dressed in all black. He was a little intimidating and not at all like the golden retriever type boy Namjoon had described to you last night.

As you took in the men around the room, you hadn’t noticed Yoongi and Namjoon discussing a possible plan to break the twins out of Big Hit. “Jimin said there might be a window of time where no one is around,” Yoongi scoffed, “but you remember what happened last time he said that.”

Namjoon nodded his head. Now you were listening intently to their conversation, as were the other men in the room. “We need to trust Jimin, Yoongs. He’s the one inside there, he sees what’s going on, we don’t,” Namjoon sighed, running his hands over his knees, apparently a self-soothing mechanism, “if you think you can get in and knock out the cameras, we might as well give it a shot. We will make sure we’re better prepared this time.” Namjoon seemed defeated. You weren’t sure what happened ‘last time’, but it didn’t sound good.

“It doesn’t matter how prepared we are, he was wrong about the window last time. By two hours. If he’s wrong again we could get caught, or killed,” Yoongi snapped, anger apparent in his eyes, “I’m not willing to risk you guys again.”

“What about her?” This time, it was the redhead who spoke. You hadn’t noticed his eyes on you throughout the entire conversation, assessing you.

“No!” Both Jin and Jungkook barked at the same time, making you jump in your seat. Jin set a soothing hand on your shoulder as you looked at him, and then at Hoseok with wide eyes. Jin shook his head aggressively before looking at Yoongi and Hoseok, “No way. She’s never been there, she would have no idea what to do. You’re not willing to risk one of us, but willing to risk her?” He snarled, you haven’t seen him angry before, and you were positive you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger. 

Over by the door, Jungkook had uncrossed his arms and was walking towards Yoongi’s desk. “You can’t send her in there, hyung,” he started, placing both hands palm down on the desk, “please.”

Yoongi looked up at the maknae with soft eyes before pursing his lips and sighing through his nose. Behind him, Hoseok raised his hands in surrender, “It was just a suggestion,” he sighed out passively, “we’ve all lived there at some point or another, they would recognize us immediately, just like last time.”

“They know her too. Hyunwoo has been scouting her for months, according to Jimin. We can’t let her go in there.” It was Namjoon who was being the voice of reason this time, causing both Jin and Jungkook to let out a collective sigh of relief. The five men continued to argue while you got lost in your thoughts. Hoseok wanted you to navigate Big Hit? Alone? You mulled it over in your head for a minute, remembering Yoongi’s words. If he was able to hack the cameras, they wouldn’t be able to see you, right? You felt so grateful towards Jin and Namjoon, and even Jungkook, for helping you, you wanted to contribute in some way. You wanted to help them, ease their pain at the loss of their friends.

With this thought in mind, you spoke up, “I could do it…” you trailed off, voice quiet. All five of the men’s heads snapped towards you, most with looks of disbelief on their faces. Even Hoseok hadn’t expected you to agree, he was testing you, to see how you would react. Yoongi looked at you curiously, waiting for your next words. He couldn’t deny the clench in his heart at Seokjin’s words. No, he wasn’t willing to risk you, but if you were offering... “I mean.. I want to help,” you hesitated, looking between Jin and Jungkook who were now looking angrily at you. You shrunk in on yourself a bit, awaiting their response. 

“Then it’s settled,” Yoongi remarked. He was trying hard to contain the fear he felt at allowing you to enter Big Hit alone. He knew it was dangerous, and he really wanted to not care about your well-being, but try as he might, he was terrified of allowing you to do this. He assumed he hid it well though, because everyone bar Hoseok was looking at him with incredulousness. 

“No way,” Seokjin spoke first, his tone leaving nothing up for discussion, “this conversation is over.” Jin stood up abruptly, looking directly at Namjoon, “You aren’t ok with this, are you?” The look in his eye was intense, and Namjoon could feel it. He could feel the emotions Jin felt towards you, that he was going to do whatever it took to protect you. Namjoon would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel the same way.

Namjoon let out a short sigh and closed his eyes before setting his gaze on Yoongi, “We can figure this out without involving YN.” 

“You heard her,” Yoongi growled, “she’s willing to risk her life. Who am I to tell her no?”

From there, the argument got even more heated, Jungkook even getting involved at one point. You were starting to feel uncomfortably hot in this cramped space. You understood both sides. You wanted to help, but you also knew that whatever you were volunteering yourself to do was dangerous. You needed air.

Suddenly, you stood up from the sofa announcing to the others that you ‘needed space’ and bolted out the door. Jungkook turned to run after you, but Hoseok, who was now standing next to the youngest, put his hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Let me go Hobi-hyung, I need to make sure YN is ok,” Jungkook rushed out, turning to the elder.

“Let her go, Kookie. This is probably a lot for her,” Hoseok told the boy, who looked like his heart was breaking at his words, “She’ll be ok, give her time.”

In your haste to remove yourself from the situation, you missed the look of absolute devastation on Jin’s face. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to do anything to repay them. He didn’t want you to feel like you owed them. He couldn’t believe how strongly he felt for you after only one day, longing for your presence next to him, now that it was suddenly gone. He could see that Jungkook - and to some extent, Namjoon - felt similarly. 

Namjoon’s heavy sigh could be heard by everyone in the room, even over the loud chatter between the boys, as he slowly rose from his seat. As he made his way over to the door, he looked over his shoulder at the hacker. “Fix this.” His words held a finality that made Yoongi gulp. The blonde had a stoic outer shell that was hard to crack, but no one in this building could deny Namjoon was the one in charge, the one they wouldn’t defy. Yoongi nodded, biting the inside his cheek to hold back his retorts as Namjoon left the room. 

After you burst out of Yoongi’s room earlier, you ran towards the big metal door that led outside the warehouse. You didn’t really want to go home, you were way too scared of what might be waiting for you there, but you did need some fresh air and some time to process everything that has happened to you since yesterday. 

You made your way down the long winding path that led back to the fork in the path at the edge of the forest. You were thankful Jungkook had found you a pair of slippers earlier and you were no longer barefoot. You passed the broken fence blocking the dirt road down to the quarry and carefully hiked down until you were at the embankment and sat on the edge of the water. It really was beautiful and now that you were up close, you could see how clear the water was. It looked like liquid gemstones, barely rippling in the slight breeze. The marble looked so pretty up close, nearly snow white with swirls and lines of grey. It was calming out here. You took a few deep breaths, inhaling the scent of the water and the trees. 

You have never done well with crowds of people. Not that five men were a crowd by any means, but you weren’t used to being around more than a couple of people at a time. Growing up, you had severe anxiety, especially while at school, and it carried over to adulthood. You also haven’t had many chances to socialize as an adult, outside of Mina and Woo. Being thrown into a situation with five men, two of whom you don’t think even want you around, is a lot. It’s only been twenty four hours and you’re already starting to regret leaving your home. You thought about your mom, and the huge breakfasts and dinners she would make for you and your father. Your father, who you didn’t know if you could even trust anymore. You’ve lived your whole life putting all your trust in your parents, as one should. But now you were questioning everything. Were they aware of your genetic rarity? Did they know about Big Hit all along? You had so many unanswered questions that you would probably never have answers to unless you went home.

Your mind wandered to Mina and Woo. How you weren’t sure if you would ever get to see them again. You were worried about them, worried that they would look for you and find themselves in some kind of trouble. They were your only friends growing up, and you didn’t even get to properly say goodbye to them. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt something wet and warm drop into your lap. You were wearing the pants that you got dressed in yesterday morning before what could’ve been your last breakfast with your family. At that thought, the dam within you broke and the tears started flowing. 

While staring at your damaged hands, you were reminded of Seokjin, and his caring nature. The tall, broad shouldered man who has shown you nothing but kindness. He was so gentle with you, like no one ever has been before. He made your heart flutter and your mind blank when he spoke to you. You thought back to how angry he had been with his own friends, over you, a girl he just met. He was defending you, and it made you feel like you were tearing a family apart. You didn’t want to bring him, or anyone else for that matter, any pain or harm. But then you thought back to how nice his large hand had felt against the delicate skin of your face this morning, and how his words had made you blush with fondness. You’ve never loved someone outside of your family, never even had a crush before. You weren’t sure how to define what you felt for Seokjin, but it felt good. 

Then you thought about Namjoon, the well spoken and intelligent man who was the reason you were brought in with welcoming arms. From what you’ve gathered, he was the one who pushed to find you, to make sure they did something to stop Big Hit from getting to you. You were thankful for him, and you didn’t want to put him in a position where he had to choose you or his brothers. He cared for them deeply, you could see that clearly. 

Jungkook was mysterious to you. He seemed so shy and timid, yet he was so angry with Yoongi earlier in defense of you. He had shown you one of the most beautiful places you’ve ever witnessed before, and given you one of the most precious smiles you’ve ever seen. You wanted to learn more about him, get to know him, be his friend. You felt drawn to the boy and wanted to protect him. It was odd, you’ve never felt an instinct to take care of someone else before, aside from maybe your cat. You wondered if that was how Seokjin felt towards the rest of them, the thought causing your heart to clench, emphatic towards him.  

The red haired man, Hoseok, was the one you knew the least about. It felt like he didn’t really like you, but he was so hard to read. You remembered what Namjoon said about him being excitable and friendly, but you had yet to experience it yourself. As much as you felt unwelcomed by him and Yoongi, you still felt inclined to get to know him better, a pull to him, much like the others. You couldn’t explain these feelings, and they were confusing you.

The last man of the group, the blonde. Yoongi. He definitely didn’t want you here, and definitely made you feel unwelcome. But could you blame him? You weren’t mad at him. No. You understood completely how he felt. You were a stranger, disposable, and you weren’t his friend. He had no reason to care about you. None of them did. You mentally berated yourself for allowing your mind to conjure up the idea that they owe you anything, that you deserved their care and affection. 

As you sat and cried silently to yourself, you let the dark thoughts take over your mind. Were you some kind of charity case to Namjoon? Like he felt the need to save someone who was like him and that’s all you meant to them? Maybe they felt sorry for you, and that’s why they were treating you so kindly. Seokjin acted caring towards everyone, why were you anything special? You were acting crazy, it’s only been a day with these men and you’re already feeling such a strong pull to them. You need to get a hold of yourself. You continued to sit there, on the edge of the water, shoulders hunched as you cried silently. As the day went on, and the sun started to set beyond the hills, your mind was plagued with the thoughts that this was all a horrible, horrible idea. 

To be continued….

A/N: if you made it this far, first of all, THANK YOU! If you want to be added to the taglist, make sure you’re following me and send me an ask. if you enjoy the series consider reblogging so it can reach more readers. i’m feeling a little down about writing right now, so i’m trying to make sure to update next sunday. we will be meeting the twins in the next couple chapters, depending on how long they get, and you will be getting some steamy scenes between YN and (a) boy shortly. much love 

xx Des

taglist:  @minifruity​  @mrcleanheichou @arantxaglz​ @chim-possible​ 

copyright 2020 aliendes

[fractallogic]

here are Some Thoughts™ that are mostly reminders of things I got done since 4 PM, since I feel like I haven't done shit today other than sit on the couch:

1. I did not have dice in my mailbox today. in fact, I only got the mail that USPS said they were mailing to me yesterday. sigh.

2. I am REALLY happy to say that Butch Turtle is well lit for the first time in a very long time. he has his warm light, which I fucked up and knocked over and broke a few days ago and needed to get a whole new lamp for because the bottom of the bulb is stuck in the socket, and he also has his UV light for Shell Health (which I replaced ??? ago, but the lamp didn't work, so I had to get a new lamp, which I got right before I moved so I didn't do anything, and then it still didn't work, so I needed to get a new bulb, which I hadn't done until today, and it turned out the previous lamp worked all along, which meant I got a dud bulb, which SUCKS because now I can't return it because god only knows where that receipt and packaging are and they are EXPENSIVE at ~$25 each)

3. I finally filled out the authorization to release medical records to the new doctor, and hopefully they get it before my appointment next thursday

4. I also found a new practice right next to my house (basically) that gets very good reviews and is also taking new patients, in case I can't make it clear to the previous doc that she made me feel bad about myself and her team fucked up and was rude to me instead of apologizing for their mistake

5. I also requested study credits for next term so that I can run participants through the human subjects pool. the deadline to request is sunday(?), so cutting it close, as usual

6. This means I have some extra motivation to finish up the pilot study and my stuff for the main study, since I think the credits can be reallocated to someone else if I don't use them by like, week 5 or something

7. today should be a full shower day because my hair is kind of gross, but I am also kind of tired and don't want to. but I also feel better after I wash my hair and it doesn't actually take that much effort.

8. goal for tomorrow is to buy next year's health insurance, put the final touches on the contract critique for this one kid I've been working on for literally three weeks because I can't just fucking sit down and do it, read through my student's statement of purpose, do one pomodoro of work on another contract, and do two pomodoros of work on the book. I'm pretty sure that's going to amount to about two hours of work. I'm telling that to my brain right now because before I sit down to do it I'll feel like it's the worst thing in the world, but when I actually get started, I'll feel MUCH better about it and be able to power through a lot

9. also we must wash the dishes on the counter tomorrow. we have to. we have no clean pots and we want to make puttanesca sauce, and also no counter space to do fucking anything.

10. this weekend it would be nice if we returned the cans and bottles to the recycling thing by the grocery store. we need to get groceries and plan the meals for next week anyway, so do it then. (puttanesca recipe makes four servings, so we don't really even have to plan much or get many groceries.)

11. don't forget to go to campus on Monday for the undergrad event. also don't forget about the lab gathering on Monday night. also don't forget to send New Collaborator your grant.

12. my neighbor asked me to spend a few hours hanging out with her partner's elderly cat while they're away on a ~romantic mountain retreat~ (or sth) this weekend, but hasn't gotten me a key to their place and they leave tomorrow. I feel concerned for the cat.

13. I am going to get in bed before midnight tonight because my revenge bedtime procrastination hasn't even been interesting lately, and if I continue getting up at 8 AM after sleeping enough, there actually is enough time in the day to a) work, b) wash dishes, c) take a walk, d) make dinner, and e) play video games in a very comfortable, non-rushed kind of way without having to also stay up late to do any of them

14. don't let the SAD win. fuck you, SAD. I know it's dark outside. I don't care. sitting on the couch doesn't help.

[pizza-soup]

Sorry I've been missing in action.

Long story short I got very injured at the labs, but I've been making a fast recovery. For the more detailed, graphic version, you can read below. Warning: Mention of hospital, blood, car accident.

As I mentioned, I got really injured at work beginning on February 21 at around 9 PM. It was during a routine check at some of the sites, one in particular needed our higher clearance because there had been a breach at a fence that past week, so I, and two other guards went to check out any tampering of the fence again. They say it might be vandals but a lot of them say it was some kind of large animal. The road to those sites are a single path through the woods, lit with a few lights, no curves, just a flat road with a hill on one side. It hadn't snowed that week either, so no fear of ice or anything. It was just a routine jeep trek.

It happened so fast. Our vehicle was knocked over, I'm not even sure how, but we were rolling in the dark down a hill, hitting trees. I remember the shouting, holding fast, and the glass. I remember crawling toward a tree and trying to sit up against it or maybe I was put there by the other guard, Dolores, I remember her telling me to stay awake. I asked her if I was dreaming. It didn't feel real. I asked what was happening to me because I couldn't move right, everything felt so slow and muffled. I passed out by the time they got us into the medical ward. I don't remember them putting me in a gown or putting in an IV. I woke up later, I buzzed the call button out of fear and pain. My whole left side was throbbing. A nurse was relieved I finally came to. She gave me pain meds and called the doctor in.

I was told there had been an accident, that much I already knew, but no one was killed, just injured. I lost a lot of blood, my uniform was soaked in it and they had to cut it off me. Part of the metal from the door frame folded in and pieced my left shoulder and I had minor cuts on my hands and arms from the glass. My blood pressure dropped so low they were scared my heart might've stopped. I was given blood, hooked up to a lot of things and I would have to stay under watch for a few days. There was a lot of tests they needed to do to figure out just how bad my injuries were.

For the next few days I was just sleeping, I couldn't sit up without feeling dizzy. I had to lay semi flat, my blood pressure was still very low. My left side was still throbbing and the stitches itched. A lot of bruises developed from being tossed around like I was, mostly on my arms because I was shielding my face and head. My minor glass cuts stung while batheing. Nurses came in every few hours to check my vitals, help me use the restroom, shower, help me eat, ect. I got so tired from the smallest things. I couldn't call anyone, my phone was in my locker. I finally got someone to help me call my brother to tell him what happened. My brother was naturally scared, he thought something happened to me and he was sad to know he was right. He wanted to see me, but he couldn't, I was in the medical ward on lab property. He wanted to call our mom to tell her but I told him to wait, there was a possibility that I might be transferred to a local hospital where they can visit me, and I didn't want her panicking and trying to drive up here in bad weather. It's best she waited til things cleared up.

After the first week I was transferred to a local hospital after getting a bunch of tests done. No brain trauma, no broken bones, no blood sugar issues or thyroid problems. I could sit up in bed by then and eat on my own. I still couldn't walk very well without feeling really dizzy, again, low blood pressure. A lot of minor bruises were fading away. I never had my anemia officially confirmed, but they confirmed it and had me take daily iron and placed on a blood building diet in the new hospital. I was tested for covid, I came out clear.

My brother and mom visited me daily, and the other doctor said I was recovering really quickly, that gave us a lot of hope. I could be out of there by a few days, though my blood pressure was worrying her. Seems it wasn't so much the blood loss, but that it might have been an underlying condition already linked to my untreated anemia. She would get the in-house dietitian to include a bit more natural sea salt to my iron rich diet, as well as tell me what I should eat at home and that I need to drink a lot more water than I normally did. This is a problem I've had for awhile, I forget to drink enough water. The doctor warned me I better remedy that immediately especially with low BP. My mom was already taking notes. She really wanted to just take me home already. I really liked her being there, I'm not that shy about my body, but I honestly felt better having my mom bathe me and comb my hair instead of strangers doing that. She was also a lot more gentle around my stitches and bruises.

Eventually I did come home, I still needed a lot of rest and help getting out of bed. I had to fight the urge to clean house, help with groceries, ect. I'm so used to being self sufficient. I felt so frustrated that just walking around the room would tire me out, when I'd hike for miles just a few months ago. I was tired of sleeping and sitting down. But there wasn't much else I could do. I did a lot of origami, my bro got me a coloring book, I watched a lot of movies, took my iron -which is nasty btw-, ate meals that were saltier than I normally would prepare but my taste buds would have to adjust. I was happy my new diet included a lot of fish though.

I did have some close calls. I really thought I could stand up in the shower instead of sitting, and wound up calling for my mom to help me up after collapsing. I collapsed again when I was trying to cook dinner for myself. My face, according to my mom, was drained of color and my breathing was shallow. I felt so dizzy and nauseated. She nearly wanted to call the hospital again. My bro said I was pushing myself too hard and I always had a problem with not asking for help. That I needed to learn to stop being so damn stubborn and rest. To anyone else, that sounds harsh, but he knows me way too well, probably better than our mom. I do have that problem, I do push myself too much. After that, I decided to be more patient with myself. I was sick and might be sick for awhile.

This week I'm doing a lot better. I can do my daily things now, I even went to get groceries and take a little walk to the river. But I can't over do it, I can't stand up or walk for too long, and I can't lift anything heavy, otherwise I get bouts of dizziness and need to sit down. The pain isn't as bad on my back anymore though it's still very sore, my arms, especially my left side, have a dull pain. I can't sleep on my back and left side, only my right and on my stomach. A lot of the cuts on the back of my arms and hands have scabbed over, minor bruises are gone but major ones on my shoulder and neck are still pretty dark and tender. I'm still finding glue spots on my chest and stomach from the medical tape and the EKG patches they put on me, but a bit of lotion is taking it off. My stitching, according to my mom, is definitely going to leave a pretty bad scar above my shoulder blade, but it's fine. My body has a lot of scars here and there from close calls, but I consider them ' Marks of Life'. They're proof I survived and thrived.

It'll take time for me to really feel like I'm back to normal. My mom refuses to go back home until I make a full recovery. She hasn't tended to me like this for a long time, mainly because I rarely get sick. I trait from my dad's side. We don't get colds or flus for years, no history of cancer, heart issues or diabetes, and his family usually remain active to their elderly years, not to mention our graceful aging. My dad used to say it was our native blood, we're just built tougher. The only thing that could kill us is getting injured like this. God, he'd be so worried about me though. I remember how he'd fuss over me when I skinned my knee as a child or got my allergies. If he was alive, he'd probably refuse to let me do anything out of bed, but then that's exactly what I should be doing anyway.

I got a report on the other guards health yesterday. Dolores and Elijah. She was the least hurt out of all of us, just a dislocated arm, mild whiplash, and some really bad glass cuts on her chest and arms, she's home recovering with her husband and kids. Elijah was the driver and got knocked unconscious with a bad concussion, his entire left arm was sliced by glass and metal, he lost a lot of blood like me and is recovering just as slow as I am. He opted to stay in the lab medical ward because he doubts his roommate can care for him at home, he's on a lot of pain meds, so he sounded distant on the phone. I think out of all of us, he's going to take the most time to recover. I told him I'd pray for him and if he wants, I can visit. He appreciated that a lot. I thanked Dolores for helping us that night, she was the one trying her best to keep us alive and sent the distress signal on our ARK devices so they could find us in the dark. Without her, I think we would've bled to death.

God, it feels like a distant nightmare. I still can't figure out how we were knocked off the road like that. Something hit us out there and it was strong. I felt the impact in the backseat, but I didn't see it. Dolores says it looked like a bear, but bears aren't that strong. Eli says he saw horns, so maybe a bison. Bison are that strong, especially against a little jeep. The incident is still under investigation. The lab is also very concerned about how this happened. It's possible the same thing that hit us, has been tampering with the fence.

One less thing to worry about is the hospital bill, the accident happened on lab grounds, everything is taken care of through them, probably because they don't want to get sued. They are giving us another two weeks before we report back in to the doctor for another round of tests and physical tests, as well as check to see if my stitches were still secure. Our return to work solely depends on our results, we may not be able to come back until late April. They really want to be sure we're okay. Because I'm an 'Ophanim' aka Tier 3 guard, I'll also be given a mental test before being hooked back into Selene. They just want to be sure there's no cognition issues and I can sync properly to her. I may have to do a refresher since I've been away for so long, but I'll worry about that when it comes.

Well, if you read this far, thanks. I hope I didn't scare you all too much. I am doing a lot a better though, I promise. I'm getting stronger everyday, though activity on this blog will be slow. Send me some prayers, good vibes, whatever. I'd really appreciate anything. Hope you've had a good month, better than mine hopefully.

[leo-gold-hotchner]

The Sinner -5

Sorry for the late post! But, I’m sure it’s gonna be cliche.. as everyone expected. 

I’m not good at any language, including English. I even struggle with English as you can see from my writing. So I’d be very appreciated if you all tell me there’s any weird sentences. And thanks Google for information on Korean and staff.. The code is based on a historical secret code, didn’t invent it. Too stupid to invent something like those. 

Ordinary part 1 coming soon... yeah can’t wait to post it, but I got 9 assignments which are due next Tues so might sometime to post either fic

Criminal Minds BAU x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 6k

Warning: Description of blood, death, mutilation, torture, swearing etc.

Previous parts: 1 2 3 4

                                                -BAU-

“It is dark under the lamp.” – Korean Proverb 

José tried to pull his arms, but it was useless, the rope only dug into his skin further. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He knew they were dead; they all got an order from the Superbia to lay low for a while after Smith and Olson got killed. This wasn’t Ira, this was the murderer who killed his fellow five members. And he never expected to be this one. 

“José, José, José. You’re shaking. Are you that scared?” 

“You know not only them, but the FBI gonna catch you.” He spat angrily to hide his fear. “I’m part of the Police just like you. They’ll know I’m missing and they’ll know it was you.” He however wasn’t sure how long the FBI gonna take to find the lead. 

“No, the FBI gonna catch me when I let them. Now I have you, I only need to get two more.” 

José frowned despite the pain in every corner of his body, his brain subconsciously calculated the important figures in the organisation. Excluding him, only three members were left. The three members who maintain the organisation and hidden from every other member. 

“Let me tell you as a last gift, José. How can I know who you are? Because Nick was Invidia, dear friend.” The 911 operator looked shocked. “Too bad I can’t really throw you into the snake pit.” Shrugged with a mocking smile, chatting happily.

“F/N, please I, I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me.” José begged pitifully. José’s breath quickened as he smelled burned steel in the dark room. His initial thought was F/N L/N was mad. If F/N was responsible for every murder of the members, then it meant Nick L/N was also killed by his spouse. Mad enough to kill the loved one. 

“Apologise to my Nick when you see him afterlife,” F/N hissed and coldly ironed the man’s skin. As the skin burned, his scream and smell filled the room. His logical thoughts quickly dissipated. 

                                               -BAU-

6th Day 

Prentiss entered the office and touched Reid’s cheek with warm coffee. Reid blinked in surprise and whirled around to see the older woman staring at him. 

“Emily, when did you come in?” 

“Now?” Prentiss handed the coffee to the younger agent who graciously took it. 

“Did you even sleep last night?” It was 8:35 in the morning, no other was present except Reid. She looked over the secret code on the white board. 

“A bit,” Reid shrugged casually. 

“I’m surprised you’re here but Hotch’s not.” 

Right then, Hotch entered the office with two sandwich bags in his hands, raising his brows at Reid’s back and Prentiss. Before he could announce his return, Reid opened his mouth no knowing the Unit Chief had returned. Prentiss tried to stop Reid but he went on, and soon she gave up, just amused as much as Hotch who had a small quirking smile on his lips. 

“He was here. He came exactly,” Reid looked over the clock on the wall, “2 hours 23 minutes 35 seconds ago. Don’t tell him, but I think he gave up solving the code with me. I’m surprised even Hotch has something to give up.” The younger man laughed, though Prentiss smirked with a little shake. 

“No, I was getting breakfast.” Hotch’s deep voice made Reid jump. The genius glared at the brunette who was now laughing merrily. “And this,” he put down the bag and a yellow folder on the table. “I went to the forensic lab in case if they finished the drug test.” 

“It’s not even 9, but they finished?” Reid looked surprised. 

“Apparently, he was threatened to finish the test by this morning by his boss.” Hotch drily explained, remembering the forensic scientist who introduced himself as ‘Eric McKinnon’ grumbling about L/F made him stay whole night. 

Reid picked up the folder and looked through the drugs that were found in the Kim’s household. “Oxycodone, Ketamine, Fentanyl…” He read through the a few lists, his finger moving fast on the paper. “They’re all regulated strictly in the hospital for their substance. If Andersson obtained these drugs from her workplace, she must’ve had help to avoid any detection. We need to search for everyone in the hospital, the drug company, even the delivery service.” 

Prentiss looked at the photo of Kim, then the code, then the photo of Andersson. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, who wrote the code?” 

“Hm?” Reid immediately stopped explanation of drugs to Hotch who was just absent-mindedly nodding as he read through the file. “I believe it was Kim, I compared his writings from notes in his study. Why?” 

“Have you been trying to decipher in English?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Maybe try Korean. Kim has Korean heritage, he might’ve used Korean as base language.” 

“But, I don’t know Korean,” Reid nearly pouted, “you can help me, though.” 

“I don’t speak Korean.” Prentiss furrowed her brows. “I just know a few words. My Russian is much better than Korean.” 

“Reid, I know you can at least learn Korean in a day to decipher the code.” Hotch closed the file. “We’ll find someone who can speak Korean after you decipher the code.” 

Reid and Prentiss watched their Unit Chief leave the room. Reid grabbed the sandwich bag from the table. “Where’re JJ, Rossi and Morgan?” 

“JJ’s coming, and Rossi and Morgan went out to see Dalal for more information.” Prentiss replied as she read through the toxicology file. 

Reid sighed. “Say good luck to me, Emily.” 

“Good luck, boy genius.” 

                                               -BAU-

It was early in the morning for Jack, but Hotch wanted to hear his son’s voice before he goes to school. His feature softened as he listened to his son, for a brief moment forgetting all about the case he was investigating. He put down his phone, looking up at the gloomy sky. Snow fall last night, would there be another snow? Jack wanted to make a snowman with him, he hoped he could finish this case soon and go back to his son. 

The BAU Unit Chief re-entered the station, before he could move aside a person with a large box collided with him. “Fuck,” the person swore as the box swayed dangerously. But the person balanced and stopped from falling. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.” 

“It’s alright, Doctor L/N.” Hotch replied pleasantly as he recognised the voice. 

L/N put down the box and looked at Hotch, mouth forming a little o with a startled look. “Agent Hotchner, I’m so sorry.” 

“Do you need a hand?” Hotch’s eyes scanned the large box on the scientist’s hands. “Thanks, but no. I’m just cleaning my staff in the lab. Were you looking for something?” 

“I, well, you seem to close with your colleagues. Do you know if anyone who could speak Korean? Or even legal translators?” 

“You’ve been working with him this whole time,” the scientist laughed a little. “Leon can speak Korean fluently. Though, why?” 

“We may need his skill,” Hotch replied ambiguously. 

“You shouldn’t trust anyone else, but you can trust Leo, Agent.” As if knowing the reason of Hotch’s ambiguity, L/N smiled with mysterious sadness. “He’s the sort of guy who stands up for any injustice. Even if that’s his friends.” 

Before he could ask what the scientist was implying, Hotch was surprised to see sudden burning hatred in the Forensic’s eyes. An authoritative voice greeted the BAU Unit Chief from his behind. It was a brief moment but Hotch didn’t miss the homicidal glare towards the owner of the voice from the scientist. The agent turned and saw Captain Robertson. His posture was screaming authority with his stoic face, his eyes boring into Hotch’s. Despite Hotch turned away from the Forensic, he could just feel hatred radiating from the scientist. He wondered what wrong the Captain did to the forensic scientist to earn this much of hatred. 

“Agent Hotchner,” Robertson called Hotch in a quiet voice. The Captain was here to demand something, Hotch thought as he quickly analysed the Captain’s posture. “Could I have a quick word?” Robertson was trying to show he had the upper hand than Hotch, a perfect alpha male who was being territorial. 

Hotch didn’t know if the Captain was either blatantly ignoring the scientist or didn’t notice hatred in the scientist’s eyes at all. “Of course.” Hotch replied mildly to insinuate he wasn’t here to challenge the Captain’s authority. Though Hotch would do anything if anything happens to his team. 

Pleased at Hotch’s willingness to talk, Robertson finally gave his attention towards the forensic scientist who wasn’t hiding hate at all. “Doctor L/N.” Finally the man acknowledged the forensic scientist who only looked at the Captain with a cold stare. “I didn’t get any resigning letter.” He said as he looked down at the box. 

“I’ll file something later,” L/N sarcastically said as lifting the box once again, leaving quickly. 

                                               -BAU-

“L/N’s been like that since I couldn’t do anything for Nick’s death.” Robertson explained, but Hotch had an impression that Robertson just said that to avert Hotch’s attention to somewhere else. 

Even though it was morning, the station bustled with officers and civilians. As the men walked through the aisle, several officers greeted the Captain. Hotch could easily see the Captain was being respected by his subordinates. 

Hotch entered Robertson’s office. There were several golden trophies and photos on the shelves. The photos were mostly about himself, but a few were with a woman. Everything was clean and in order except the table. The table was messy with files and papers, pens were laid everywhere. The Captain leaned on the table, crossing his arms as if he was hiding the messy table from the agent. 

“I heard you asked Lee not to talk about this case with the media.” 

“I did. I don’t want the UnSub to hide away.” 

“Reporters will know about this anytime soon. Do you even have the lead to the killer?” Robertson squinted his eyes. 

“To be frank, no, we don’t have any solid lead.” 

“Dammit.” The Captain suddenly banged the table and started to pace, but Hotch didn’t even blink. “I don’t want this bastard in my community. When you find this bastard, I want you to kill on that spot when you see the chance. I’ll order my men too.” 

“That’s not how I work.” Hotch frowned at the Captain’s growing anxiety. 

“This person killed six people, Agent!” Robertson jabbed the table with his finger as he yelled each word. “The bastard’s fucking crazy. I don’t want any more death from this bastard, do you hear me?” Robertson glared at the FBI agent who didn’t avoid the Captain’s fiery stare. 

Hotch finally broke the silence as Robertson’s breath slowly calmed from his anger. “I’ll do what I can do, Captain.” 

“Good.” 

Hotch exhaled deeply as he left the Captain’s office. Robertson didn’t know he made a mistake. It was a moment of anger and he lost the control. The Captain would, eventually, realise his mistake and might do something to sabotage the investigation. 

“Detective, I need your help,” Hotch called Lee as soon as he saw the detective walked in with a half-eaten sandwich. 

                                               -BAU-

Morgan and Rossi decided to visit and talk to Nurse Dalal once again before lunch. Time does fly fast these days. 

“Do you see what I see?” Rossi asked Morgan as they arrived in front of the hospital. 

“Let’s hope they don’t know about the Seven Sins.” The younger man descended from the SUV after shaking his head a little seeing a broadcasting car. “It’s kinda sad people are finally giving attention after someone in status is dead.” 

“Yes, that’s unfortunate.” 

They entered the hospital building, not seeing any reporter as they went to the same receptionist in the hall. She recognised the agents and greeted them friendlier than the day before. “If you’re here for Nurse Dalal again, she’s not here.” 

“Do you know where she might be?” 

Rossi and Morgan exited the hospital and Morgan clicked the key and both men hopped on the black SUV. Dalal was on leave for a month, apparently Dalal told her colleagues she felt unwell just after the FBI agents visited her and asked for leave. 

“Hey, baby girl,” Morgan smiled broadly as he called his best mate, Garcia. 

“Well, well, well, isn’t this my sweet chocolate thunder? How can I be service today?” Garcia asked in a friendly seductive tone. 

“We need Aria Dalal’s address, she works as a nurse at the Jefferson Hospital.” Not even a minute, Garcia produced the address and Morgan started the SUV and set the navigation. 

“Is that all? You’ve been awfully less demanding recently,” she whined. 

“Yeah, sorry about that, sweet girl. But if you want to keep listen to my voice how can I not comply to your wish?” 

“Can we please go without any double entendre here?” Rossi rolled his eyes from the passenger seat. 

“I guess we need to protect Rossi’s innocence, Penelope,” Morgan barked a loud laugh along with Garcia’s merry laugh. 

 “Children,” Rossi shook his head, but the tips of his lips were up softly. “Can you look for her past? She might’ve known Andersson if she was hiding something.” 

“Alrighto! Give me a sec and I’ll call the others too.” 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, boy genius, you’re also connected with Morgan and Rossi.” Garcia chirped happily. “Now I’ve found something about Andersson and Dalal here. They were friends. It’s hidden, a private post, but I found a photo of Andersson and Dalal together, apparently, they’ve known each other since high school. And Dalal actually worked at the Bethesda Hospital but she transferred here five years ago.” 

“Did she have Andersson as a referee when she transferred?” 

“I’m not sure about that, sweet boy. There’s not much on their SNS, so I can’t find more about their past other than they’ve known each other since high school.” 

“Thanks, baby girl.” 

                                               -BAU-

While Prentiss and JJ were going through case files and photos once again, Reid jot down numbers and Korean on a white board. Under the Korean vowels and consonants, numbers were written with red marker. 

“Would the UnSub operate at own house or other base?” JJ asked as her finger tapped the papers. 

“Can be both,” Prentiss replied. “Remember Joe Smith in Milwaukee? He killed women in his basement in the middle of resident area. No one heard women screaming. I’m just surprised the UnSub might be only one person doing all these killings.” 

“Articulate, intelligent, logical, flexible in time, and anger. With growing anger how one can’t even make a mistake?” 

“Maybe the UnSub is used to clean the mess even if they made a mistake? Like works in similar industry, cleaning.” Prentiss shrugged. 

“Or knows what to clean to look like someone else did it.” JJ and Prentiss locked their eyes as their eyes widened at the possible idea. 

Before the female agents could discuss more about their theory, the door opened and Lee and Hotch entered. Lee looked a bit dishevelled with his sandwich in his hand while Hotch looked very professional comparing to the detective. 

“I see something unusually familiar.” Lee stared at the white board full of messy Korean writings. “I didn’t know joining the FBI requires learning different languages.” 

“Usually they don’t,” Prentiss chuckled. 

“We need some help in Korean, I heard you were great with the language.” Hotch shortly explained what the forensic scientist told him about Lee’s skill. The Unit Chief didn’t miss the glance between JJ and Prentiss when he mentioned the forensic scientist. “Reid.” The young man, however, didn’t answer his boss. “Reid!” Hotch called the younger agent louder than before but Reid was still in his mind, his eyes glued on the white board, his mouth silently moving as his brain working fast. “Spencer!” Reid squeaked in surprise and whirled around, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Hotch?” He looked at the side where JJ was standing who was not hiding her amused smile from him. “JJ, when you did come here?” 

“Ur, like two hours ago?” JJ laughed and she held her hand out towards Prentiss. “I told you he didn’t notice I was even here.” 

“Dammit, I was sure he’d notice you at least if not Hotch.” Prentiss handed 20 bucks to the blonde. 

Hotch thought to reprimand his team because it usually doesn’t leave good impression to authorities when they bet on something. Even though Lee had been friendly towards the BAU as if he knew them all this time, it doesn’t change they have professionalism to manage on behalf of both BAU and FBI. But he saw a genuine smile on the detective and stopped himself from scolding his team. Though, he definitely will talk about this to the team on the plane on way home. 

“Detective Lee can speak Korean. I need to make a call, I’ll return soon.” Hotch nodded to his team and exited the office. As Hotch exited the office, he could sense Captain Robertson’s piercing eyes on him which he pretended he didn’t notice. 

 “So, what are you trying to achieve?” Lee asked friendly. Looking at the Korean consonants and vowels. 

“I tried to decipher the secret code on the Kim’s note in English, but I couldn’t. So, Emily here thought maybe he made the code based on Korean. I think I’m nearly there, but I don’t think it’s even a word even though I can make a syllable.” 

Lee popped the blue marker silently and wrote down Korean consonants and vowels again on the board, but in different order unlike Reid wrote. “Korean consonants and vowels have their own orders too, like Alphabets. And there’re more tensed consonants and vowels. I’m not sure how to call that.” 

“Consonants are tensed, you’re right. Although, for vowels, Korean vowels are categorised in monophthongs and diphthongs rather than tensed.” Reid interjected. He further explained as soon as he saw a confused look on the detective. “As you can see from their prefixes, monophthong is a single vowel that has one sound, and diphthong has two sounds in a syllable. For English it’s hard to categorise monophthongs and diphthongs because there are many varieties in English language.” 

“Right,” Lee nodded, though anyone could see he didn’t understand one bit what Reid said except the doctor himself. “Anyway, this is the order generally used in Korea.” Obviously, his writing was neater than Reid’s whereas Reid’s was more like writing of geometry. “Here.” 

As soon as Reid received the marker from the older man, Reid quickly inspected the new order written by Lee. The other three waited for Reid to act and the younger man soon wrote 2-digit numbers starting with 11 on the first consonants. “I tried various digits, but I think 2-digit numbers are the most plausible code. If you used 1-digit you can’t even make a proper syllable.” Reid rambled as if he read the others’ mind about why 2-digit numbers. “But if you break the numbers into 2-digit numbers and substitute with consonants and vowels,” he used 223415301738 as the first example, breaking into 22, 34, 15, 30, 17, and 38 for others to read. Then with a red marker, he wrote ㅌ, ㅗ, ㅁ, ㅏ, ㅅ, and ㅡ above the broken numbers. “I don’t know what the word mean, of course I can look for dictionary but even for me that’ll take some time to memorise the whole dictionary.” Reid looked at the detective expectantly. “Well, does it mean something?” 

“Yeah, could you decipher other codes too?” Detective stared at the white board, his eyes widened with surprise. 

“What is it?” JJ asked curiously. 

“It’s a name. But, it’s just a given name.” 

“Maybe other codes under that numbers are surnames?” Prentiss suggested. 

“Here, this code was under the L with that codes.” Reid pointed the deciphered codes. 

The Detective read carefully without voicing. “Sorry, in Korean it’s hard to say if that’s L or R in English. But I believe it’s a full name of a man. Thomas Wellington or Werrington. It’s either of ’em.” 

With the cue, Reid immediately started to decipher other numbered codes with silent encouraging from the Detective, JJ looked for if any Thomas Wellington or Werrington were on any files or victims’ associates. And Prentiss quickly dialled the best technical analyst in the world. 

                                              -BAU-

Rossi ended the call from Hotch which Morgan looked at the older man curiously. “You gonna tell me what that was about?” 

“Not yet,” Rossi replied smugly. Morgan rolled his eyes holding his hands in the air. But the younger man didn’t see a concerned look on Rossi. 

They entered a small apartment where Aria Dalal was living. They stopped in front of the green door that had golden house number on the middle of the door. Rossi knocked on the green door but frowned as there were no response at all. It was quiet as if no one was in the other side of the door. Both men looked at each other worriedly, and Rossi knocked again. 

“Ms. Dalal? This is David Rossi from the FBI. We talked yesterday at the hospital.” 

Morgan gestured if he’d break the door as usual, but before Rossi could say anything the door slightly opened but chained. Only her voice was the evident that someone was inside the apartment. “I don’t know anything,” her voice was trembling despite she was trying to conceal her fear from the agents. “Just, please leave me alone.” Even without profiling, anyone could see she was distressed and scared. 

“We can help you, Aria,” Rossi told her gently. “It’s only me and other FBI agent, Derek Morgan. You also saw him yesterday.” 

“No woman?” Dalal asked with a timid voice. 

Rossi raised his brows at Morgan who mirrored the veteran profiler. “No, no woman here.” 

“Show me your credentials.” Rossi and Morgan showed their identifications through the small gap. “Okay, just be quick.” The door shut and opened again after a click. 

The agents entered the cosy looking apartment, but most of things were in mess. A couple of suitcases were laying in the living area, her staff messily pushed into the suitcases. “I don’t know anything about Marian.” 

“Ma’am, we know you two were close since high school.” Morgan told her politely to calm her down. Unlike controlled herself from last time, she was in verge of panicking. Before Morgan could talk more, his phone echoed in the small apartment, making Dalal jump with paled face. “I’m sorry for startling you, excuse me.” Morgan went to a corner to answer his call. 

“You’re scared of Marian’s killer, aren’t you?” Rossi asked directly side glancing at the younger agent. “You know why Marian got killed, Aria. We’re here to catch who killed your friend.”

“She, she was my best friend,” Dalal hugged herself, finally admitting. “She told me to run if something ever happens to her.” Rossi was sure they were more than just friends. 

“Yeah, will take her with us,” Morgan finished his call before he glanced the distressed nurse. “Ma’am, we need you come with us to the station.” He told the nurse who widened her eyes in fear. Rossi asked the younger man a silent question. “The secret code Kim wrote, they cracked it. All those codes are a list of names. And your name was on the front page of the list.”

Despite she was surprised at first, she just nodded. “Was there a name called Wellington?” 

“I’m not sure about that, is that person involved in this?” 

“I,” Dalal shifted uncomfortably. 

“You can tell us anything, Aria,” Rossi said kindly, “we’re not here to judge you. Just to find who did this to Marian.” 

“You know what?” Dalal shook her head defeated. “I’ve thought over and over again since last night, and I think this is my last chance.” Morgan and Rossi frowned. There was no indication that she’d commit suicide, did she hide something underneath? She was just scared of something and then she just flipped her attitude, as if she gave up everything. 

“We can help you, if someone is after you, the FBI can protect you.” 

“No, you can’t. They’ll find me even if I run away to other states. That’s what Tristan told me when Marian asked me to do this with her. Telling me I shouldn’t be involved if I wanted to live long, but I wanted to be with Marian just like we were in high school.” She bit her nails. “Just before I go with you, can I tell you here what I know? I’ll tell everything again if I have to at the station.” 

“If you’re comfortable with it.” They shouldn’t. They shold’ve taken her to the interrogation room and record everything but she wanted to release everything before anything. In case anything happens to her. 

“Thank you.” For the first time, Dalal gave them a little smile. “I’m more like an associate with the organisation. I don’t know the name of the organisation or even has one, and both Tristan and Marian were in kind of higher rank.” Morgan and Rossi nodded, but inside they were bewildered at the proof of an organisation actually existed. “There’re many people like me, they’re probably the list Tristan wrote. He was the one who managed associates whereas Marian trafficked the drugs from the hospital. I wasn’t told about other members, but they told me there were several.” 

“They told you everything they knew?” The agents wondered why they told such important things to Dalal who wasn’t an important figure in the organisation. 

“Mostly,” Dalal shrugged. “Maybe I was their insurance, I don’t know. What I’m trying to say is there are assassins in this organisation. Marian told me they were called Ira, I don’t know what it means. They can kill whoever they’re asked to. Several days ago, Tristan and Marian came to see me secretly. They told me they were being hunted by the leader himself.” 

“So you think it was this Ira who killed both Tristan and Marian?” 

“Yes, who else? The leader must’ve wanted to hide his track and killing everyone who’s involved. Marian said they were female. She never told me how she knew, but she was so sure of that.” 

“Is that why you asked if there was a woman?” She nodded. “Even if there was, it would’ve been a federal agent.” 

“You don’t know that,” she snapped at the younger agent. “Anyone can be this assassin. Even you’re not fully protected from them.” 

                                             -BAU-

All BAU and Lee were looking at the nurse through the one-way glass window who was with Rossi in the interrogation room. Aria Dalal asked for Rossi to be the agent to question her and they’d gone through the same conversation they had in her apartment. Unlike before she seemed to be relaxed than before but still devastated. She, however, perhaps finally convinced herself that the BAU can help her to ease her anxiety. 

“How do you know Wellington?” Rossi asked Dalal with curiosity. “We knew each other, because…” she paused a bit, “I was Marian’s sexual partner whereas Wellington was Tristan’s. I didn’t see him since he moved to another city or something,” she shook her head. “Then, then, Marian came to see me, told me I have to run if something happens to her.” 

Before he leaves the room, Rossi offered if she wanted some food or drink. She smiled a little towards the older man saying she didn’t have any appetite. Rossi returned and joined the team, leaving the nurse in the room alone. 

“Wellington is one of the first names on the list along with Dalal.” Reid said as soon as Rossi entered. “Thomas Wellington was one of the lawyers worked at the Kim’s law firm.” 

“Was?” Morgan raised brows. 

“Wellington moved to another firm, but he died from a car accident three days ago. Just a day after Lewis was killed,” replied Reid, “Not only Wellington, some of people from the Kim’s journal have been dying by accidents since Smith and Olson died.” 

“Not a coincidence is there?” Rossi sighed deeply. “If this Ira, the wrath, is our UnSub, why didn’t they take the list with them? Dalal said it was Kim’s responsibility to manage the associates. They would’ve known Kim had a list of names. I think the UnSub is a third person, not involved in the organisation directly at least.” 

“So, we have to catch this UnSub, Ira, and the ringleader?” Lee blanched. “We don’t have evidence that it was Ira who killed these people on the list.” 

“We don’t know what to look for these Ira, but our UnSub knows who they are.” Hotch said quietly as he stared at the nurse who was keep staring down at the table. “We only have a bit of lead to UnSub only. And we have to act fast.” 

                                             -BAU-

“Hey, Hotch,” JJ called the Unit Chief as soon as the team returned to the operation room. “Emily and I didn’t have any chance to talk this, but we might have some theory who might the UnSub is, if the UnSub is part of the Force.” 

“If they’re maybe they can be one of the forensics.” Prentiss nodded. 

The team didn’t miss something flashed on Hotch’s usual stoic face. He glanced back and saw the Captain was calling in his office with his personal phone. Robertson looked up and both men looked into their eyes, neither avoiding. Hotch moved away as Lee entered the office with paled face, gulping. 

“Dalal’s dead.” 

“What?” Morgan nearly yelled incredulously. 

Hotch was the first to sprint to the room where the nurse sprawled on the table, her eyes and mouth wide open. There was a half-eaten sandwich and coffee on the ground. Poison. 

“Who brought the food?” Hotch demanded, refraining himself from snarling at the officer next to him. 

“I, I did, sir,” the young officer stammered. “There was a woman, she said she got an order to deliver the food to, to, her.” 

“Did you ask who ordered?” Rossi asked, and Hotch didn’t know his mentor and others were behind him. 

“Yes, yes,” the young officer nodded hastily, “she said it was ordered by Agent Hotchner.” The faces of BAU darkened. 

“Where is she? What does she look like?” Hotch growled. 

“She just left, she was wearing a blue cap, a, a red hoodie.” The description was too vague to find the woman. “Pretty, Asian…,” he mumbled as Hotch’s eyes hardened. Morgan asked if he knew where the food is from and the officer shook his head, looking afraid to meet Hotch’s eyes. 

Hotch bolted out from the station, leaving his team who called his name behind. The sky was already darkened, the winter Moon looking down at him. He shouldn’t have run like that, he should’ve stayed with his team. But Hotch looked for the mysterious woman, pushing people aside in the vast city. It was looking for a needle in a haystack, but he had to find the woman. 

His phone buzzed, it was his long time mentor. “Are you out of your mind?” Rossi’s angry voice rang Hotch’s ear. “Where’re you?” Rossi had the right to be angry at him after he told what happened between him and the Captain. 

“I’ll be there, don’t come for me,” his eyes didn’t miss a woman with similar clothes staring at him from the other end of the street. Was she smiling at him? Taunting him? He knew it was a trap. “Rossi, remember what I said, call Garcia if I don’t call you back in ten minutes.” He grabbed his gun and followed the woman to a dark alley. Just so typical and cliché. 

                                             -BAU-

The old profiler nearly threw his phone as the call ended. If he waited for ten minutes for Hotch to call, he was stupid. He wasn’t going to wait. Rossi quickly called Garcia, ignoring worried questions from the younger profilers about Hotch. 

“Penelope here, how can I help you this time?” A cheerful voice answered the call. 

“Garcia, listen carefully,” Rossi lowered his voice, “wait, just listen don’t say anything.” He said quickly to everyone, muting the call as soon as he saw Captain Robertson walking towards the BAU’s temporary office room. 

Robertson opened the door without a knock and observed the room, especially the boards before his eyes meet with the BAU’s. “I heard what happened, where is Agent Hotchner?” 

“He went to after the person who poisoned Dalal. He’s coming back soon.” Rossi replied before anyone could, he could see the younger profilers seething, especially Morgan at the Captain’s insinuation. 

“How can you be sure he’s coming back?” 

“What do you mean by that?” Morgan clenched his teeth, not liking one bit where this was going. 

“The food that was ordered by Agent Hotchner himself killed a witness and now he’s not here. How can you be sure he didn’t run away after killing that poor woman?” 

“I assure you, Captain. Aaron Hotchner is not that kind of person. He’ll return and we’ll find who is responsible for this. Please don’t accuse him of such thing.” Rossi’s voice was calm. But it was calm before the storm. 

“I’ll call FBI and ask for investigation on both this case and the BAU,” the Captain’s eyes glowed dangerously. And Rossi saw a flickering light of victory in his eyes. Rossi wouldn’t let this man ruin his best friend’s life and reputation.

“24 hours, just give us 24 hours. We’ll get your UnSub and prove Agent Hotchner isn’t involved in this.” 

Robertson’s weighed his option, his eyes boring into Rossi’s. “We also have a missing officer and don’t have hands to help the FBI if they come now. I’ll give you only one day to prove and bring the responsible person in front of me, Agent.” 

“That’s all I ask.” Rossi nodded, and Robertson left the office, his smug smile hidden from shadow. 

“Dammit, what was that about?” Morgan smacked the table with his fist. 

“We were called to be chess pawns in the first place.” Rossi’s grip on the back of a chair tightened, his knuckles turning white. He unmuted the call, instantly Garcia’s panicked voice assaulting the BAU. “Penelope, calm down. Hotch already prepared if anything happens to him.” 

“He prepared for this?” Prentiss asked the older man incredulously. 

“This morning, he told me Captain Robertson is involved with this organisation, and he was sure Robertson would plan something. We just never expected he’d act this fast to set a trap like this.” 

“And you didn’t tell us?” Reid frowned, hurt by the two agents’ distrust in them. 

“We did it to protect all of you. What’s done is done. For now, we need to focus on Hotch and find the UnSub, and who killed Dalal.” 

“He isn’t answering,” Morgan swore under his breath. 

“How did he prepare? How can we know he’s safe?” JJ emphasised the last question. Hotch had already gone through so much and she didn’t want Hotch to suffer more. She didn’t want anything happens to him, especially Jack. The boy adored his father, he’ll be devastated. 

“Garcia, could you track his phone?” 

“Give me a second.” Rossi hoped nothing happened to his friend. He didn’t have to become a bait, damn it. 

“Oh no, no, no, no.” Garcia shrieked. 

“Pen, what is it?” Prentiss urged her friend biting her nails, fear creeping everyone. 

“He was moving, and his phone just turned off.” 

                                            -BAU-

As expected, the woman was standing in the middle of the no through small alley. No one was in the alley except him and her. Even the sound of bustling city didn’t reach this deep narrow alley, as if the alley was another world. With only wind howling, pale moonlight creeping above them, her smile looked ominous even to Hotch. 

“Who are you.” 

“Agent Hotchner, you should’ven’t followed me.” Her accent was a bit foreign but not too rough. 

“You’ll come with me and tell who you are and who orders you.” 

“I thought you already knew?” She said in mocking surprise. “I mean, that’s why he told us to help you leave the living world.” She pulled out a small folding knife and started to spin it. “Well, not exactly kill you.”

She used ‘us’, did she have a partner or other members of organisation? He was lackless, yes, but he didn’t want to lose another lead. If anything happens to him, Rossi would be there to solve the case and lead the team. 

“Well, well, Agent Hotchner.” 

The familiar voice. He turned, widened eyes, he heard JJ and Prentiss’ theory just a few minutes ago. Off guard, his head soon smacked with something blunt that was heavy and hard. He dropped his gun, falling, his conscious slowly drifting away from shock and pain. Even with blurring sight, he could clearly see and hear the familiar face and the voice. Don’t trust anyone. That’s what you said.

@evans-dejong

[nocturnegyser]

Feral Angel

Warren x reader (Racc)

this is my real first time writing anything like this at all so its going to be really crappy and flawed... so please be mean

TW: Mentions death

(y/n) has always been kinda feral growing up, having her fathers raccoon mutation giving her raccoon ears and tail and ability to hear and smell things like a raccoon and even the signature raccoon black mask you see every raccoon born with, her mother being human no one knows where her reality manipulation comes from, perhaps she accidentally grew another mutation?

After an accident with some boys she got in a fight with causing her to discover her reality manipulation power, her brother hesitantly sent her to Xaviers School for the Gifted, with a heavy heart and bag packed, (y/n) bid her brother adieu.

Her first step in, (y/n) is immediately greeted by Hank McCoy

“Hello, you must be (y/n) (y/l/n), I’m Hank McCoy, I am a teacher here and will be giving you your orientation tomorrow but for today I hope you have a relatively easy time settling in-“

(y/n) is immediately mesmerized by his fluffy blue furry face, in the middle of him explaining everything she immediately just pets his face and immediately Hank grabs (y/n)’s hands

“Please don’t do that.. ever again..”

“Oh ok sorry ._.”

“Well anyways for now I will hand you over to another one of our members here, Ororo, she will be showing you your way to your room”

Hank then passed (y/n) along to Ororo to show her to her room.

“This your first time living away from home?” asked Ororo trying to be friendly with (y/n)

“Oh! Uh, yea.. kinda.. I would travel with my brother a lot when I was younger so I lived in a van for a little bit but that was fun”

“You ever live apart from your brother?”

“No...” answered (y/n) a little nervously

“Well this place can be as homely as you make it to be” Ororo assures her

Finally coming up on (y/n)’s new room for the next 3 years or so Ororo opens the door to reveal her new room, her boxes she had sent a week earlier were sitting in the corner ready for her to unpack

“I know it can be intimidating here at first but you’ll soon come to adjust to life here.” Ororo reassured (y/n)... again

Ororo left (y/n) to unpack and settle in for her first night, she noticed she wasn’t sharing her room with anyone

Great, away from home and alone, this is already shaping to be a great new life...

Not even touching one of her packed boxes a baseball crashes through her window

“WHAT THE F*CK!!” (y/n) immediately exclaimed

She ran up to the window dodging the broken glass on the floor even though she was barefoot, looking for who threw the baseball

She immediately saw him, tall, broad, intimidating, and metal wings. He was the only one with a bat and the only one looking in her direction, he immediately ran inside, presumably heading to her room. 7 minutes later the tall metal winged angel shows up at her door

“Aww jeez.. sorry ‘bout that, here, I’ll take my ball back... and I’ll tell someone u need a new window..”

“DUDE WATCH WHERE THE HELL YOU’RE AIMING WITH THAT THING, YOU’RE LUCKY I WASN’T STANDING IN FRONT OF MY WINDOW OR ELSE ONE OF US WOULD NOT BE STANDING RIGHT NOW!!” (y/n) angrily yelled at the angel boy

“Dude! I said I was sorry! Just give me back my ball ok?”

“UGH, fine take your stupid ball and watch where you’re aiming next time, GOD!”

Angrily, (y/n) slammed her door in the angel boys face.

“Man who the hell- UGH!”

Not even a full hour here and my window is shattered and there’s glass all over my floor! This is ALREADY shapping up to be a GREAT TIME

Meanwhile on the other side of the door

“Ugh! I said sorry!” angel boy grumbled walking away

(y/n) sweeps up the broken glass on the floor and throws a blanket over her broken window

———

Having unpacked 3 of her 5 boxes, (y/n) decides to call it a night and decided to finish tomorrow considering her classes start on tuesday and it was saturday

“Whew! Well the glass is cleaned up, window is... handled.. for now, 60% of my stuff is unpacked-”

A loud growl emitted from (y/n)’s small raccoon stomach

“well... guess i should go eat something then.. what time is it?.. 9:30??!? Jeez where does all my time go??”

Realizing how tired she is, she slowly makes her way to the dorm kitchen and hears someone already in there

Who is in here at 9:37 at night?.... besides me

She turns the corner and see’s who exactly is in the kitchen at 9:37 at night, angel boy

He turns around the second (y/n) enters the kitchen and both lock eyes immediately and both go “Ugh.”Neither saying anything, (y/n) begins making herself a pb and j and chips

“....”

“....”

“You mind passing me a knife?” (y/n) hesitantly asked noticing he was standing in front of the silverware drawer

Both staring each other dead in the eyes, angel boy slowly moved from in front of the silverware drawer not passing her a knife. Ugh, still maintaining eye contacts and squinting both giving each other death stares (y/n) slowly grabs a knife from the drawer

“Thanks.. a lot”

“Don’t mention it”

Continuing making her sandwich neither still talking

“So... I told the repair guy you needed a new window and he said he’ll be able to put a new one in on Monday”

“That’s the earliest??”

“No, the earliest was tomorrow but you were being a dick”

“God, you know, for an angel you’re an asshole you know that”

“I’m not an angel”

“Explains the wings and attitude”

Both still at each other’s throats, (y/n) realized she was not making anything better so she decided to try and de-escalate the situation

“Well anyways... I’m (y/n) (y/l/n)” (y/n) said holding out her hand for a handshake

“Warren Worthington” shaking her hand

“So... can you talk to raccoons? or find cool shit in dumpsters?”

“No and dumpster diving isn’t my mutation, I can hear and smell things like a raccoon can and just recently discovered I also have reality manipulation.”

“Reality manipulating raccoon girl huh? that must be a combo everyone’s surprised to hear”

“I don’t tell everyone, unlike you, I can hide my mutation”

“Why do you want to hide your mutation, and how do you hide your eye mask?”

“To avoid problems with people, and i use concealer”

“What kind of problems?”

“The bad kind”

“Why don’t you just fight them?”

Jesus who is this guy, an investigator??

“For an angel boy you sure ask a lot of questions”

“Not an angel”

“You’re right.. for a pigeon you ask a lot of questions”

“And for a trash panda you have a lot of snide remarks”

Again at each other’s throats, both finish their food and go to bed

“Jesus what a first day away from home, I’ll have to ask that repair guy if he can still give me a new window tomorrow” (y/n) said to herself in the comfort of her own room... alone..

One day down... countless more to go...

———

After her orientation with Hank, (y/n) decided to take a stroll through the mansion to familiarize herself even more with the mansion more

(y/n) glossed through the library, sped through the classrooms, peeked in the chemistry lab, she had already been at the kitchen and her hallway, she didn’t feel the need to check out the other hallways. She did however want to checkout the attic since the basement was essentially off limits to students.

Finally making it to the attic, she took a liking to the relaxing atmosphere. I could get used to the atmosphere up here, she thought to herself

(y/n) staring the window, taking a moment to herself to think. The hatch on the floor then opening up “Oh.. I’m sorry I didn’t realize anyone would be up here..,” (y/n) looked over to see Warren

“Oh, no it’s fine, I’ll leave if you wanna be up here... alone” (y/n) offered, “No no I’ll just find some place else to-“

“Well it’s not like I own the attic”(y/n) joked trying to let Warren stay upstairs

“Uh.. yeah ok, I guess” Warren slowly making his way back up the ladder “I just come up here to read sometimes”

“What do you read?” (y/n) asked trying to spark some small talk

“Mostly Cult of Raven or Stephen King”

“Stephen Kings that guy who wrote that one story about that hotel right with those twins in the hallways saying ‘Come play with us,’ right?”

“The shining?”

“Is that what it’s called?”

“Yea”

“Then yes”

“You don’t read Stephen?” Warren asked engaging in the small talk

“I don’t read a whole lot in general” (y/n) admitted “Got any recommendations?”

Warren pulling out ‘Monkeys Paw’, handing it to (y/n)

“What’s this about” she asked curiosly

“Basically the term ‘you get what you wish for’ taken to the extreme”

“Ah, okay” (y/n) the. beginning to read along with Warren

———

Not even a full 3 minutes passed before Peter came running up to the attic hiding from someone

(y/n) and Warren both looking at him confused, “What the bell? Peter? What’re-“ Peter cutting him off

“Ok ok ok promise not to say anything to Jean?” Peter begged

“What?”(y/n) asked “Well let’s just say I accidentally ticked Jean off,” then hearing Jean yelling from under the attic

“WHERE ARE YOU PETER, I KNOW YOU BROKE MY VASE OF LILY’S!!” Peter scared then sneaking out the nook window onto the roof as a quick escape

Jean then making her way up to the attic, “Where is he,” her eyes practically red, both pointing at the window, Warren trying to open it realizing Peter jammed it unable to open it “Welp.. guess I should go get him off the roof... again” Warren then making his way down the latter to outside

Jean still standing there, her hand in her hip her other on her forehead, noticing (y/n) just awkwardly sitting there, “Sorry about that, the boys here can be a bit much...”

“huh?”

“Warren, he got here not long before you did, he’s still trying to adjust himself, it’s nice to see you two being nice to each other”

“Well it’s not like it’s that hard to get along with him, I realized that once I took a step back to not argue with him, his nice guy act could use a little work though” (y/n) sheepishly admitted

“You’d be surprised who all he does the ‘nice guy’ act for around here”

“Lemme guess, half the girls here, right?”

“Like I said, you’d be surprised”

Jean then left (y/n) to go find Peter and ultimately reprimand him

———

You’d be surprised? Who all? What’s that supposed to mean? (y/n) thought to herself in her room

Hearing a knocking at her door, (y/n) goes to answer it, she opens the door to see Jubilee

“Oh ok, so you’re (y/n) (y/l/n), right?”

“Uh.. yes, and you are?...”

“Jubilation Lee, but you can just call me Jubilee or just Jube’s”

“Right, and what exactly can I do for you?”

“Oh right, Peter asked me to ask you if you wanted to go to the movies with us later seeing as how you’re the newest addition to the crew”

“The crew?”

“Yea! I mean you’re new here and we figured you’d maybe want some friends”

The concept of friendship was not entirely new to (y/n) but it definitely wasn’t familiar

“Uh, well yea sure, I guess, I’m not exactly busy until Tuesday so..”

“Perfect! I’ll text you the details and add you to our group chat if you want”

“Uh, yeah sure ok” (y/n) shrugged and exchanged numbers

“Great! well we were thinking about seeing- *GASP* You have an electric guitar??!” Jubilee instantly distracted

“Yea, her name is bender, because it’s a fender so it’s a fender.. bender” (y/n) joked letting Jubilee come in

“Oh that is perfect, are you in a band?”

“No, I dreamt about it but it never happened hehe”

“I might know a few people who wouldn’t mind joining a rock, more on that later, but we were thinking about seeing that new horror flick that’s in theaters right now at around 6-ish”

it was 4:37

“It’s going to be me and my friends Jean, Scott, and Warren”

“Warren??”

“Yea, you meet him?”

Meeting Warren was a bit of an understatement at this point

“Yes, we met” (y/n) as exhausted as she sounded of him

“Great! Well I hope you two got along because we were thinking of seating arrangements and now that you’re on board, you’re gonna be next to Warren”

“Does it have to be next to warren?”

“What’s wrong? you don’t like him?”

“Well...” (y/n) paused to think that maybe actually getting to know Warren some more wouldn’t kill either of them

“Well?”

“Ok, yea, next to Warren it is” (y/n) said with a determined look

“Ok great, if I’m being honest, asking you to the movies was actually Warrens idea, he just wanted me to say it was Peter, not sure why”

Warren wanted her to ask me? Why not ask me himself?

“You’d be surprised who all he does the ‘nice guy’ act for around here”

Could that be what Jean meant?

“Well I’ll see you around 6 at the garage, see you then! Oh and nice meeting you”

“Yeah you too” closing her door puzzling what it all meant together

Eventually 6 was drawing close so (y/n) rushed getting ready and got to the garage super early and decided just to wait there for everyone

Warren then came walking through the door

“Oh, you’re here early”

“You too” she replied playfully trying to be friendly

“So...” (y/n) began “You watch the trailer for this movie yet?”

“No not yet, supposedly it’s good though from what I’ve heard so far”

“Nice, I didn’t watch a whole lot of horror growing up”

“Too scary for you?”

“No, my brother who raised me didn’t think of them as a proficient use of time, so we didn’t watch them a lot”

“Oh wow, I used to watch them all the time with my mom”

“Aww, I never knew either of my parents” (y/n) immediately regretted just blurting that out nonchalantly

“Oh...” Warren said a little shocked that she admitted something so personal

“Yea.. Well.. I’m sorry that probably sounded problematic but I swear it’s not what all it sounds like but...” (y/n) explained almost stammering

The rest of the group finally walking in

“I call shotgun!” Jean exclaimed as she rushed to the front seat

(y/n), Warren and Jubilee all sat in the back, (y/n) never have been in a car with friends she stayed quiet ‘cause she didn’t know what to talk about but was listening to the other’s conversations, she looked up at Warren who was sitting in the middle and (y/n) on his left, she noticed he was just looking dead ahead with stone cold eyes

Dang, he must not be all that interested in anything I guess...

Jean overheard what both were thinking and took more interest as to what Warren was thinking about, wonder what that could be?

The group finally arrived at the movies and all hop out and start making their way to front doors, this being the first time (y/n) was out in public not hiding her ears, tail or eyes, she was understandabley nervous and a little fidgety, she felt a million eyes on her and immediately wanted to run into the forested area behind the movie theater

It’s ok you know, people around here are not more accepting of mutants considering they live right next to a whole mansion full of them

Do you always talk to people in their own heads???

It’s better to think of just people taking amazement in your mutation then them just judging you

Yea well easy for you, you can hide your mutation, I mean... I can too but i didn’t wear my hat it didn’t go with my outfit

Jean giving (y/n) a motherly smile trying reassure everything’s fine

“Ahh fudge!!” Jubilee exclamed at the sight of the theater not showing the movie they wanted to see

“Mann! what’re we supposed to do now? This took a lot of convincing Charles!” Jubilee explained

The group went silent thinking about something to do

“I kinda wanna check out the music shop” (y/n) suggested

“I wanna go to forever 21,” said Jubilee

“Me and Scott’ll be at the party” Jean dragging Scott along and the rest of the group all going their own ways too

Waking in the music shop, (y/n) couldn’t figure one thing

So... why exactly did Warren decide to tag along with me?

“What exactly were you thinking on getting here?” Warren asked

“I was thinking about investing in some new strings, and maybe that new blink 182 album..”

“You play?”

“Yeah”

“You in a band?”

“No... I wanted to but no one wanted to start one with a reality manipulating raccoon girl I guess” (y/n) said jokingly

“Heh, any cool inspirations?”

“My dad for starters”

“He played?”

“Yea, I watched old videos of him on stage and he could shred” a little bashfulness rosiness in (y/n)’s cheeks

“I take it you want to carry on the legacy?”

“Something like that, I mostly picked it up ‘cause I thought it looked cool and I didn’t have to spend money buying a new guitar”

“You’re using your dads”

“Yea, he named it Bender”

“Like from Futurama?”

“Maybe, but the main reason being is because it’s a Fender, so it’s a Fender BENDER” she joked nudging Warren seeing if he got the joke

“Clever, think you’re going to start a band?”

“If I can find any players here”

“I know my way around a drum kit, if that helps”

“No way! Do you have a kit?”

“No, I’m sure the music program at the school has one though”

“Hopefully”

“What kinda music do you like?”

“Mostly punk and alternative, you?”

“Metallica and Queen”

“Oh nice, I don’t necessarily hate classic rock, but I definitely prefer punk”

“It definitely suits you”

“Haha and what’s that supposed to mean?” (y/n) poking fun at Warrens statement, almost flirting

“Uh- well I mean it’s just very chaotic and from the time I’ve known you, you give off that controlled chaos kinda vibe”

“Controlled chaos ay? Well your vibe... I definitely gotta say is very Controlled rage”

“Must be why we go together” Warren immediately regretting spurting that out

“You think we go together?”

“Well- I meant like- I guess- I-“ Warren now blushing

He’s so cute flustered, to think he blushes so easily

(y/n) immediately realizing something

Wait.. I’ve never seen him blush but neither has anyone else... ahh I’m sure that doesn’t mean anything... right?...

“Yea well.. I’m gonna go buy these strings then” (y/n) said blushing a little bit

Both got a text from the rest of the group saying they’re ready to go home now that it’s 8:35

“Well guess we should meet up with everyone..” Warren pointing out the obvious and dodging eye contact

“Yea...”(y/n) agreeing also dodging eye contact both blushing

———

Finally getting back to the mansion (y/n), Jean, and Jubilee all make their way back to their rooms

Scott noticing Warren watching (y/n) walk away “You two have fun at the music shop?”

“Yea, didn’t know she played guitar” Warren said a little cheerfully.

“Someones sounding a little less murdery than usual”

“Shut up...”

———

A/N: I’m sorry if this sucked but it’s my first fanfic...

[doc-pickles]

i won’t hesitate (for you) chapter seven

Jo is happy, at least she feels like she is. When someone from her past shows up, will her and her daughter's world ever go back to normal? Or will things change for good?

(this chapter is dedicated to @odd-birds-and-booksellers because every time i was stuck on a plot point she helped me out and got my brain thinking again. this chapter LITERALLY would not have been finished without her.)

There was an alarm blaring somewhere, loud and annoying and drilling into Alex’s sleep deprived mind. It took him a minute to realize that the alarm was his phone, alerting him to the fact that he needed to get up and round on his patients. He had slept in an on call room, preferring the silence it offered to Izzie yelling at him once again for something he had no control over. He reached for his phone, shutting the alarm off and staring at the screen for a moment.

June 9.

A groan left Alex as he fell back onto the bed, eyes shutting as he attempted to stop his mind from reeling. But he couldn’t, not really. Because no matter how hard he tried, she never left his mind. It had been seven long months without Jo and Alex still couldn’t stop his mind from drifting to his wife. Ex wife.

He reached for his wallet that he had tucked into his lab coat, fingers brushing the worn leather as he opened it up. Alex reached behind his credit cards and drivers license to the worn piece of paper he found himself looking at so often. 

She was smiling, that genuine no bullshit smile that he loved to see so much. And her dress, he feels as if he’s memorized the places it clings so easily to her. If he concentrates hard enough, he can almost feel her hands pressing into his shoulders as they shared their first kiss as husband and wife.

How in the hell did they go from that to where they are now in just two short years?

+

“I have to go back to Kansas.”

The coffee cup in Jo’s hand slips, falling ungracefully into the kitchen sink and shattering as the ceramic meets the metal with a loud thud. 

“Jesus Christ, Jo! What the hell,” Alex exclaimed as he moved to clean the mess of the shattered cup. “If you would’ve let me finish, I could’ve told you that it’s not for long and I’m coming right back home.”

Jo can feel her breathing return to normal again, her eyes looking from the sink up to Alex. He stopped what he was doing, hands settling onto Jo’s shoulders as he fixed her with an affectionate stare. 

“I have to go back and sort out a bunch of legal things. My name is still on my apartment, my car is out there, and,” Alex sighs, eyes flashing with anger momentarily. “And I’m still on all the paperwork for Izzie’s kids. Plus I kinda just… walked outta my job.”

“I know, I get it, it just makes me nauseous thinking about it,” Jo wasn’t lying, her stomach was violently churning at the thought of Alex leaving her and Harper. So much so that she had to push down the urge to vomit with a heavy gulp. “But, I get that you have to go. As long as you come back home to us then I have zero complaints.”

Leaning down to kiss Jo, Alex realized how incredibly lucky he was to have someone who was so understanding. A part of him ached at that realization, knowing that she would have understood him wanting to go to Kansas three years ago if he had explained the situation to her. 

“I’m heading out tomorrow morning and I’ll call you everyday,” Alex pulled Jo into him, one hand rubbing back slowly. “I swear Jo, I’m not leaving you two again. Now you want a parting gift or what?”

Alex raised his eyebrows, his free hand coming down to grab Jo’s ass with a chuckle. Jo leaned into him easily, lips coming up to ghost across his neck momentarily. Harper was at a sleepover with Meredith’s kids, something that her parents were eternally grateful for. 

“Mmm I do think we’ve settled into things now,” a devilish grin appeared on Jo’s face as she pulled back from Alex and tugged on the collar of his shirt. “This is our first night alone in the whole two months since you’ve been home. I think that’s a good excuse to celebrate.”

Alex swooped down, lips capturing Jo’s as her hands began to explore his chest, pulling at his shirt desperately. They had both stayed true to Jo’s request and hadn’t had sex since their elevator tryst, but the mounting sexual tension between them had grown increasingly hard to ignore the past week. Jo broke apart from Alex, hands ridding him of his shirt as she pushed him gently towards their bed.

“Oh you have no idea how hard I’m gonna celebrate this,” Alex grinned as Jo sat herself on top of him, hands roaming up his bare chest. “I forgot how much I missed this.”

+

Jo woke up the next morning to a quiet loft. Harper wasn’t home yet and Alex had left a note and a cup of coffee out for Jo before he left for the airport. She snuggled further down in the blankets of their bed, hands reaching out for Alex’s pillow. She missed him already, her anxieties already taking over her mind as she tried to close her eyes and focus on something else. 

Harper… Harper and Alex… Alex and Izzie’s kids… Alex and Izzie… Alex… Alex…  Alex… 

Jo couldn’t help it, her anxiety overwhelmed her body and she raced to the bathroom, overcome with the urge to vomit. Head leaning against the cool porcelain, Jo let last night’s dinner come up easily. 

“Oh god,” Jo groaned, picking her head up from the toilet bowl as she heard an incessant knocking at the loft door. “It’s open!”

Excited giggles and talking could be heard in the living room now, alerting Jo to the fact that Meredith had brought Harper back from her sleepover. Jo threw her head back towards the toilet bowl, groaning as she continued to vomit. A quiet knock sounded on the bathroom door, Meredith’s head peeking in a moment later.

“Wow you look like crap.” “Thank you, just what I wanted to hear,” Jo sighed, flushing the toilet and standing to brush her teeth. “I’m just a little anxious about Alex being in Kansas, that’s all.” Meredith nodded, watching silently as Jo rinsed her mouth out. She had known her friend long enough to realize that something else was going on, something that maybe even Jo didn’t see.

“Hey when you and Alex… you know defiled that elevator, did you use protection,” Meredith mused, watching carefully as Jo paused, then kept moving as if Meredith’s words didn’t affect her. “You dirty whore!” “Meredith! Jeez my kid is out there,” Jo turned to Meredith, hands resting on her hips as she rolled her eyes. “I am absolutely not pregnant if that’s what you’re implying. I think I would know if I was.”

Meredith let her line of questioning fall silent, but Jo’s mind kept reeling. Her and Alex hadn’t used protection when they had hooked up in the elevator… twice… Nevertheless, Jo was confident that she wasn’t pregnant. Her slight weight gain and her anxious vomiting were just normal everyday things she’d deal with at a different time. 

+

( Alex is italics , Jo is normal)

“Hey babe. How’ve my girls been?”

“Stress eating, mostly. And I’ve been stress vomiting too so that’s fun. The tiny human is perfectly fine though, besides standing by the door and yelling ‘Daddy’ at the top of her lungs. Can you tell we’re totally fine with you being gone?”

“Maybe you should take a break, babe. Take the day off and recharge. I don’t want you going crazy.”

“I’m fine, I just wanna make a grilled cheese and then take a three hour nap. Seriously don’t worry about me, you have enough crazy to deal with there.” 

“You’re telling me, Izzie is livid that I’m trying to take my name off of the kids' papers. You know, the kids that aren’t mine. My lawyer is not taking any of her shit though, he’s been a godsend. Should have all this wrapped up by Friday afternoon and I’ll be home with you bright and early Saturday morning.” 

“Good because I miss you. A lot. More than I probably should for only having you back for two months.”

“I am pretty missable. I was just checking in between meetings, I’ll call you tomorrow okay?”

“And I’m heading into the ER for what should be a fun day. Stay safe out there in the wild west. I love you.”

“I love you too. Give Harps kisses from me.” 

  Jo hung up with a sigh, storing her phone in her locker and moving towards the ER where she was working for the day. The distraction that the chaotic area of the hospital provided was much needed after the stress she had been under the past few days. Running to the trauma bay, Jo was immediately greeted by Owen and an awaiting ambulance. 

“32 year old passenger from a multi car MVC pileup. She’s got deep lacerations on her chest from the seat belt, hypotensive in the field but stable by the time we brought her in. She’s also 28 weeks pregnant.”

“Karev, assess her injuries but don’t do anything until we get OB down here,” Owen directed Jo, who nodded and began to work on the woman in front of her. “Stabilize her, I’m going to check on the other victims.”

“I’m Doctor Karev, I’m gonna take care of you today,” Jo stared down at the woman in front of her, the woman's blue eyes staring up at her in fear. She brushed her hand through the woman’s auburn hair, hoping to comfort her just a little. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Kacey James,” her voice was hoarse, but Kacey was doing her best to communicate with Jo. “Is my son okay? Is Landon okay?”

The woman’s voice was frantic as she looked at Jo, her eyes full of unshed tears that made Jo tear up herself. For an expecting mother, the most terrifying thought was their baby not being okay while sitting inside of them. To think about the fact that their baby might die while they are their responsibility and theirs alone… well Jo had her fair number of moments when she had worried about Harper before she was born. 

“I’m waiting for our OB to come down and tell us for sure but,” Jo pulled her stethoscope from around her neck to listen carefully for a fetal heartbeat. “I can hear a steady heartbeat. It’s not a guarantee, but it’s a good sign.”

A sigh left Kacey, her uninjured hand coming up to cradle her bump. Jo watched the woman in front of her with a pang of tenderness, understanding exactly how this stranger felt. She thought, for a moment, that any mother could understand what Kacey was feeling.

A stray hand fell to Jo’s stomach, her fingers brushing across her scrub top. Maybe Meredith had some strong points, maybe the reason that Jo felt so strongly for Kacey’s situation was because she too was carrying a child within her. She quickly brushed the feeling away, knowing that if she really was pregnant some higher power within her would know and tell her. 

“Kacey, I’m going to make sure that you and Landon are perfectly okay,” Jo moved her hand back up to Kacey’s hair, stroking it with a smile as she leaned down to speak with her patient. “You’re going to be just fine.”

+

After setting her daughter down in her crib, Jo collapsed on her bed. Yesterday had been long and hard and without Alex by her side she felt helpless to her circumstances. Kacey had made it through the long surgery Jo and Carina had tag teamed to take care of a perfed bowel and some minor lacerations, comforting Jo minorly. Jackson would have to go back in to repair some of the deeper wounds, but they wanted to let Kacey and Landon rest before they put her under again. 

As her thoughts began to overwhelm her, Jo’s phone chose that moment to ring, Jo getting up and slipping out onto the balcony as she answered Alex’s phone call with a small smile.

  “Hey there stranger. How’s Kansas?” “Dry and boring and lonely. You two doing any better?”

“We’re hanging in. Harper painted a very nice picture yesterday entirely with green paint. Mom on the other hand had a car crash victim who was almost 30 weeks pregnant. That was rough.”

“Are they okay? Mom and baby made it out right?”

“Yeah they’re fine it was just a lot. I have tomorrow off though so we’re going to try and do something fun.”

“Why don’t you go down to Pike’s Place and have lunch at that place you like. You and Harps can go shopping after. You know, a girls day or whatever they call it.”

“You’re making some very good points. Everything with the apartment go okay today?”

“Yeah, the landlord was very understanding and I was able to get rid of all the junk in the apartment pretty easily. I shipped a couple things back home, but the boxes are giant so don’t you dare try and move them yourself.”

“I promise I won’t, I’m too tired to do anything anyways.”

“Yeah what's with that? You said you took a nap today. You never take naps.”

“I’m fine, I just miss you. You’d think after being just Harper and I for so long that I would be used to not having you here. But I don’t think I ever really got used to it.”

“I’ll be home in two days and then you’ll get sick of me. Go on and get in bed, you sound exhausted and I can tell your mind is working harder than it should be. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

+

“Did you find out yet?”

“Jesus Christ Link! You can’t sneak up on me like that.”

Jo turned on her heel, hand coming up to smack Link’s chest. He had been her first call after hanging up with Alex four days ago and he had been a pain in her ass ever since. 

“I’m asking sensible questions. Alex texted me today, he never does that! He’s worried! Your not-husband comes homes tomorrow morning and you still haven’t peed on a damn stick,” Link raised an eyebrow at Jo, holding his hands out as if to ask what her hold up was. “You two are finally happy, you’ve got a daughter and you’re literally looking at houses to buy. Why won’t you pee, Jo? What are you hiding?”

The reasons that Link laid out were exactly why Jo didn’t want to confirm what she had been thinking. They were the same reasons that she had waited almost two months to take a test when she was pregnant with Harper. She was scared out of her mind, worried that if she took a test now that Alex wouldn’t come home and she’d be in the same position she had been in three years ago. 

Deep down she knew, she knew without a doubt that any stick she peed on would turn blue and any blood test she took would show elevated hCG levels. And part of her wanted that, she wanted another baby with Alex so badly. 

But with him being gone for the week and her already growing anxiety, Jo’s heart didn’t have it in her to see the results of a pregnancy test. The anxious woman who spent nine months crying over the father of her baby being gone did not want to face a world where that could be a reality again. 

Because last time she had taken a pregnancy test, Jo had had to face the reality of her husband leaving her through a damn letter. 

Because when she had laid in her hospital bed, staring at her daughter, she was alone and she was scared.

Because for all she had gone through in her life, Jo didn’t think she could survive going through all of that alone again. 

“I have my reasons, Atticus ,” Jo’s voice had a bite to it as she began to walk away from her friend. “Goodbye! Give Amelia my love! And thanks for taking my kid tonight, you’re the best!”

+

Two hours after her run in with Link, Jo found herself lounging across her couch, binging reality TV and eating popcorn. She was dead on her feet, body exhausted after the stressful week she had. She was thankful for the peace and quiet without Harper, but she desperately missed her and Alex. Jo was about to call Link just so she could bring Harper home and cuddle her when her phone rang. A smile lit up Jo’s face as she realized Alex was the one calling her. 

  “Hello Doctor Karev.”

“Hello to you too Doctor Karev. How are you?”

“I’m okay, just got home. Link and Amelia offered to take Harper for the night which I am super thankful for. I need a break, you were right. But I miss her and you, it’s too quiet here.”

“I’m always right. Hey, I got some bad news. My flights got all switched around so I won’t be home tomorrow morning after all.” 

“Oh god, please don’t tell me you’re staying in Kansas, Alex.”

“Jesus Christ no, I’d sooner jump in front of a car.”

“Good good. Okay now that I don’t think I’m going to puke, are you going to tell me when you’re coming back?”

  “Right about now,” Jo turned towards the door of the loft, relief coursing through her body as she saw Alex standing in front of her. 

“Oh thank god,” Jo breathed out, launching herself up from the couch and into Alex’s arms. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you.”

Alex wrapped his arms around Jo easily, happy to see her given the rocky week they had both had. After having Izzie yell at him, his former boss give him an earful for the way he exited, and seeing the kids he had considered his own used as pawns in his escape from Kansas, he was more than happy to be back in Seattle.

“Probably about as happy as I am to see you,” Alex leaned back and kissed Jo soundly, one hand coming up to stroke her cheek. “You look like hell. I’m only saying it because I care. Which reminds me, I got you something.” Jo watched in confusion as Alex rooted around in his suitcase, finally pulling out a brown bag and handing it to Jo. She opened it curiously, heart beginning to pound again as she looked at what was inside. 

“I could tell just from your phone calls, it’s kinda my job,” Alex shrugged, hands slipping into his pockets. “Have you already taken a test?” Looking from Alex down to the bag of pregnancy tests, Jo felt tears welling up in her eyes. The emotions she had been holding back were finally overflowing as Jo shook her head, eyes meeting Alex’s finally.

“I was so scared,” Jo cried as she let her shoulders fall, feeling her anxiety over the situation melt away now that Alex was standing in front of her. “I’m sorry, I just… I was so nervous that things would play out like they did last time and I couldn’t put myself through that this time because I really want this.”

Alex moved forward, bringing Jo back into his embrace. He hated that he was the reason she was feeling this way, that he had made her feel so helpless when he left. More than that though he was relieved to hear that she wanted this just as much as he did because it meant that maybe he hadn’t entirely screwed things up. 

“I love you, Jo. I love you so much and I’ve fucked up and I know you told me not to make any promises this time but,” Alex sighed, eyes meeting Jo with sincerity. “I am not leaving you. I’m not leaving Harper. I’m not leaving Seattle ever again unless you’re by my side, I swear on my life. And if you are pregnant, then I’ll be right by your side for the whole damn thing. You’re not getting rid of me Josephine Karev.” 

Alex’s words stopped the frantic beating of Jo’s heart and let her relax into his arms, eyes closing as she held him as close as she could. He was right, Jo had told Alex not to make her any more promises because she didn’t want to get hurt again. But after the hell they had been through, after the hell she had walked alone, Jo’s rough heart had grown soft and the words he spoke now comforted her. 

“I’m pregnant, I don’t need to take a test to tell me that,” Jo looked up to Alex, a small grin on her face. “But I’ll take one to humor you, since you didn’t get to be here last time.”

Alex pressed a long, sweet kiss on Jo’s lips, one hand gently drifting down to palm her stomach. The tender act made Jo melt, another small reassurance that things were much different than they had been three years ago. A reminder that this time, things would be okay.

[stories-sometimes]

Party Blues

Peter Parker x Reader

Set post Homecoming, but pre Infinity War. Characters aged up to 18.

Summary: Peter saves a friend after she gets into some trouble with a guy at a party.

Warnings: Drug misuse, attempted sexual assault

Word Count: 3053

Masterlist

He was sitting at the back of the chemistry class, secretly working on an upgraded version of the web fluid, one that would work better with all the new technology in his suit. He’d been there for a while before the class started, easier to hide his work. Unbeknown to him someone else walked in early.

“Boo!” She startled him, causing him to drop the test tube back into the drawer, he cringed knowing how long it would take him to clean that up later. “Sorry about that,” she said, clearly having heard the smashed glass. “You just seemed so distracted and I thought that scaring you  would be the best ‘earth to Peter’ thing to do.” She rambled. Peter couldn’t help but smile at her, she was the most gorgeous girl he’d ever had the pleasure of setting his eyes on. Despite all the popularity and attention that followed her since high school began she’d always held onto her lifelong friendship with him. “So, what were you working on?”

“End-of-year project.” He quickly lied, “but I want to keep it a secret, surprise everyone.” She nodded her head, still slightly suspicious. Soon other students trickled in, including the new kid Aaron. He was the guy all the girls had their eyes on. The typical bad boy, the kind no one’s mother would approve but people would do anything to catch his eye even for a second. He was more often found smoking behind the school building than caught in a classroom. Yet here he was, in the chemistry lab, early. It was immediately obvious to Peter why he’d arrived at this time, she was in this class, and she was the one he tried to pursue. 

“Hey.” He said to her, flashing his signature, dazzling smile. She seemed mostly unfazed by this, unlike many people’s reactions to him, still she joined into his conversation.

“Hey, look at you, actually in a lesson. This is called a classroom by the way, wasn’t sure if you knew.” She joked, he chuckled softly, eyes roaming over her.

“Yeah, thought I check out what all the fuss was about. Haven’t figured it out yet, but maybe I’ll stay by your side and you could fill me in.” He continued to flirt.

“Well I can at least promise you’ll learn something. There’s a free space next to me and Peter, there’s meant to be a seating plan but I think sir will be too focused on the fact that you’re here to really care.”

“Sounds good to me.” Aaron agreed, slinging his bag on the empty desk space.

“You know Peter right.” She said, dragging to brunette into the conversation, previously he’d just been listening in, attempting to drown out the painfully clear flirting. Suddenly he felt more alert, always ready to chat with her. He smiled at Aaron but was quickly ignores, the soft smiles he was giving her turned to the harsher gaze he usually received from the popular kids - this caused him to shrink back down. However, that look soon turned more malicious.

“Penis Parker, I’ve heard of you.” He laughed cruelly. She turned and lightly hit Aaron on the chest as a warning.

“Glad to know that’s my reputation.” Peter mumbled.

“You really think that’s funny.” She scolded him.

“Kinda.” She simply rolled her eyes at him. “Alright, alright I’m sorry, I was being immature. Hi Peter, nice to meet you.” He greeted Peter, face remaining approachable until she looked away, then it dropped back to his original expression.

That was how the rest of the lesson went, Aaron flirted, she’d try to include Peter in the chat and he’d quickly get shut down. Well that was how lots of conversations with her and one of her friends went for Peter. Luckily for him, this lesson (and school day) was soon over and he would go on his patrol, forget about his problems in his real life for a while. The bell blared out and students poured out of the classroom.

“Hey, wanna walk home with me?” She asked Peter before he could escape the room. They’d grown up living on the same floor of their apartment block, neither families had much money so the two of them shared a far amount of their possessions with one another, putting together their small collections of toys when they had play dates when they were younger. Even now Peter swore every so often he’d see her wearing one of his old sweatshirts. In middle school they would sit for hours studying together so they could get in Midtown, then ate pizzas and marathoned Star Wars to celebrate when they did. Over that summer Peter witnessed first hand her transformation. He’d always thought she was pretty, now he saw her as completely and utterly stunning. She’d found some hidden away thrift store in a forgotten corner of Queens and got a job there, ditched her old tops and awkward fitting jeans for a more fashionable wardrobe. She easily made new friends in high school, whereas Peter remained on the shadows, only really having Ned as a friend. Still she didn’t completely abandon him, she’d still sit and study, or join in some overly nerdy hangout with Peter and Ned.

“Well, I was..” Peter began to answer her.

“Come on, we haven’t hung out together in ages.” She said, her eyes practically begged him. And there was no way he could say no to that, patrolling could wait.

“Alright fine, you’ve convinced me.” He replied, pretending to accept reluctantly. She pulled Peter in for a tight hug and he felt his cheeks burn.

“Thank God, I feel like I barely get to see you anymore.” They walked home, reminiscing about old memories, eventually they reached their floor. “You going to Flash’s party tonight?” She asked. Peter began to debate in his head, on the one hand it would be good for him to relax a bit, and she obviously wanted him to go, but on the other hand, he’d have to patrol, plus it was Flash throwing the party.

“I’m not sure if I can, I’ve got the Stark Internship.” Peter settled on.

“Really, it feels like that’s all you’re doing. Do you actually have to go tonight?”

“Well, not exactly,” he stuttered out, she raised her eyebrow, “but they might need me.” Peter said, avoiding eye contact with her, too worried he’d give in instantly.

“Can’t you come for a bit, bail if they actually need you.” She replied, “It’ll be fun, have a drink or two, let loose, I can get you a lift there. I promise I’ll save you a dance.” At that his head perked up excitedly, she really had him wrapped around her finger. 

“Okay I’ll come.” She grinned at him, the same annoyingly cute yet smug look she always pull when she got her way. 

“I’ll meet you in your apartment at 9.” She kissed him on the cheek before turning to enter her own apartment. Peter stood outside with a dopey grin on his face, starstruck for a while.

A few hours later Peter heard a knock at his door. May answered it, leaving Peter alone to mentally prepare himself for a little longer.

“Hey sweetie, I haven’t seen you ages.” He heard May say from the lounge.

“I know, Peter’s just been so busy with the internship he hasn’t had any time to hang out.”

“Tell me about it, it’s like that damn internship is all he does nowadays.” Peter joined the two of them, his jaw dropping at the sight of her. The outfit was casual enough, just very tight, showing off every curve. He tried to suppress the dirtier thoughts before coughing to gain the two women’s attention. “There you are, so how are you getting to the party?”

“My friend Aaron’s giving us a lift.” She responded.

“Alright them,” May turned to address Peter, “I’m visiting Sue tonight, so I won’t be back until lunchtime tomorrow, just text me to let me know you’re home safe.”

“I will.” Peter nodded, letting May pull him in for a hug.

“And good luck with her.” My whispered to him, giving a shocked Peter a sly wink as she moved away.

“You ready?” She asked.

“Yeah.” He quickly took it. She lead him downstairs and out to Aaron’s car. She slipped into the passenger seat leaving Peter alone in the back.

“Didn’t think he’d actually show.” Aaron said upon seeing Peter, his disdain clear.

“Well he did, now be nice.” She warned him. Finally they arrived at the party, she offered Peter her arm as they walked into the party. It wasn’t long before she was whisked away by some blonde girl from their English class. And that’s what Peter had feared, she tries to spend time with him, but it was hard not to get distracted by the flood of people grabbing her attention.

“Back off Parker.” He heard Aaron snarl in his ear. Instinctively Peter shrank away from his  voice, sliding to the back of the room to avoid the popular group forming in the centre of the room. He grabbed a drink from the kitchen before settling on a coach, watching Aaron’s arm wrapped around her, full of jealousy. He remained seated there until he heard his phone buzz, alerting him of a robbery a couple of blocks down from here. Luckily for Peter, he had his suit on underneath his clothes. He took off, feeling Aaron’s eyes following him, he could sense the arrogant look on his face.

It was an easy enough to stop, it was obvious they were novice thieves. Soon enough they were stopped and the police were on the scene and could take over. Peter thought about just going home, dropping her a text pretending he’d felt ill, needed to go home. However he decided to go back to the party, holding out hope for that dance. Once he got there me was meet with the disappointing sight of Aaron passing her a drink, the two were sat outside, in a more secluded place of the party. He was still in his suit, stuck to the house wall. Peter knew it was wrong, creepy even, he should leave her alone to enjoy a night with a guy Peter thought she liked. But he didn’t, he couldn’t, he felt both physically and emotionally stuck in that position on the bricks. She started to grow drowsier as she finished her drink, that sparked Peter’s concern. He watched Aaron lean down to kiss her. Peter stayed there, trusting that guy less and less every second.

“No, I feel weird, I can’t do this right now.” Peter heard her whimper whilst weakly attempting to shrug him off, “Aaron stop, something’s not right.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, just relax.” The boy said as he moved his hand under her shirt. That was when Peter snapped. He shot out a web, attaching itself to Aaron’s wrist and forcibly removing him from her. “What the hell, what’s your problem.” Aaron shouted.

“What’s my fucking problem,” Peter screamed back, more furiously then he could ever remember being, “She said stop you piece of shit.” He saw red, not in control of the punches he was sending the boy’s way. He trapped Aaron in webs, tipping them off the authorities. As soon as he’d done that he ran over to check on her. She was quickly losing consciousness.

“Hey, hey, come on you need to stay awake. I need to get you home.”

“No I can’t go, I need to find Peter, he can help me.” She slurred out her words. He felt slightly guilty at the swell of pride at the mention of his name.

“I know you want to find your friend,” Peter said, trying to keep his identity secret, “but you need to go home.”

“Can you take me to Peter’s? Please Spiderman.” She mumbled, eyelids feeling increasingly more heavy.

“Yeah I’ll take you to Peter’s.” She smiled. Peter held tightly to her tired body as he swung back to his apartment. “Peter’s in the apartment, I’ll just go get him.” He said, setting her down on the couch, running into his room to change out of his suit as fast as possible. He grabbed a couple items of his clothing for her as well before carrying her back into his room. “Hey, how are you feeling?” He asked, back to being her friend rather than Spiderman.

“Heavy, I can’t move properly.” Peter grew madder, Aaron had fucking drugged her.

“You’re gonna be okay, I promise, can you change yourself?” Peter asked, holding up the pile he pulled from his closet.

“No, can you help me?” She shook her head, sinking further into the bed. Peter blushed at the thought, nodding slowly as he began to undress her. He tried to be as respectful, avoiding looking at her the best he could when she was half-dressed. She looked so small and vulnerable, curled up on the coach in too big clothes, dazed, completely out of it at this point. 

“Goodnight.” He whispered as he wrapped a blanket over her body.

“Stay.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t want to be alone.” She teared up slightly. That broke Peter, watching someone he cared about so much in this position. He curled up next to her, placing his arm over her sleeping body, almost as his way of protecting her from anymore hardships she’d have to face from this world. He slipped into slumber soon after he knew she was resting safely. Morning rolled around and Peter was up before her, he moved into the kitchen, grabbing water and aspirin in case she needed it, as well as started to scramble at few eggs for breakfast. She woke feeling tense when she felt she wasn’t in her own bed. Her memory of last night was foggy at best, the last thing she remembered was going outside for a drink with Aaron, then it was all a blur from then on out. She relaxed when she saw it was Peter’s room, she’d probably just slept over in his room like they did when he was younger. ‘But what if they hooked up?’ She thought to herself panicking slightly, not that she’d mind much, she’s done much worse drunk. However if they did hook up she’d liked to have remembered it. Slowly she dragged herself out of the bed, her limbs felt heavier than usual. She brushed it off, walking into the kitchen.

“Morning.” She greeted him hoarsely.

“Hey, how you feeling?” Peter responded sounding concerned as he offered her the painkiller.

“Not great, think I drank too much.” She tried to joke. “Did we, you know … last night?” She asked awkwardly, unsure how to bring up the topic.

“No, no.” He reassured her, “how much do you remember from last night?”

“I don’t know, I went outside for a drink with Aaron,” She didn’t miss how Peter’s jaw clenched at the mention of his name, “then it’s kinda hazy after that. Why, do you know what happened?”

Peter sighed before starting, “Aaron slipped something into your drink, tried to sleep with you.”

“What?”

“He drugged you, didn’t care when you told him to stop, luckily someone stepped in before he could get too far.” His voice getting angrier by the minute. Her heart dropped to her stomach, why had she trusted him?

“God I feel so stupid, my gut told me he was bad and I just ignored it.”

“No, no, this is not your fault. You were trying to be friendly and he took advantage of that. You are not to blame in this, this is all on that asshole.” Still she looked crestfallen. 

“Yeah I know.” She sighed, moving closer towards Peter, seeking comfort in his arms. He hugged her tightly, stroking her hair as she let out a few sobs. “I’m sorry.” She sniffled, wiping away the tears.

“Stop, it’s fine.” She let out a smile.

“I know, it’s just, I can’t believe that happened. I knew he wasn’t the best guy in the world, but I didn’t think he was that bad.”

“I’m gonna make sure he doesn’t get away with this.”

“You sure, the police aren’t always reliable. His family’s rich, they can fix all his nasty little problems.” She spat out.

“I’ve got some pull with some pretty powerful people.” She cocked her head to the side, an adorable sign of confusion on her part, “I’ve been doing well with the Stark Internship, I could probably pull a favour Mr Stark.”

“You’d really do that for me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” She lay her head down on his chest, grinning slightly, whispering a ‘thank you’ into his shirt.

“I miss you.” She confessed.

“I’m here right now.” He said confused.

“No I mean hanging out together, sitting together at lunch. I feel like unless I come to you at school, you avoid me.”

“You know how it is with some of your friends, I’m not exactly their usual type. I wouldn’t be surprised if half of them didn’t know who I was. I want to talk to you, but every time I try to someone will butt me out of the conversation.”

“I don’t like lots of them, it’s just a little rude to tell ‘em to fuck off. But if I introduce you to the nice ones I’m sure you’d get along great.”

“I’d like that. I care about you a lot, like a crazy amount. And if that would make you happy, of course I’ll do it.” He said, trying to keep up the lighter mood.

“I think I met Spiderman last night. I vaguely remember his suit and being swung through the city.”

“Wow, he did drop you off here.”

“He was nice, reminded me of you.”

“Really.”

“Yeah, your always making sure I’m safe and happy. Whenever I’m with you I feel like I’m with someone amazing, being saved by a superhero.” Peter’s heart swelled, he was always insecure that people preferred his alter ego, that the only time he could be the hero he was when he had the mask on. But she helped Peter feel that he himself was worth enough. He didn’t need the suit.

“I love you Peter Parker.”

[queenmylovely]

The Law of Attraction i

Summary: John deacon x fem!reader. Your first week of classes with Professor Deacon.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: little bit of awkwardness, cussing (probably)

A/N: This is the first part of a probably miniseries or two-parter to fill the request I got. I just am incapable of not writing some backstory I guess. Side note: this takes place in the present but John is in his late 30′s. For you, anon, don’t worry, spicy things are coming soon! I hope you all enjoy, and any feedback including likes, replies, reblogs and asks are greatly appreciated! Requests are open!

Request: idk if you write for prof!deaky but like… i’d be so down for that. 

Part ii, Part iii*, Masterlist 

(look at this picture, what the fuck)

💥💥💥

In your junior year of university, you had finally decided on your major after switching between math and physics. You had definitively chosen electrical engineering. While you had enjoyed math and physics, they were much too focused on theoretical equations than on real-world objects, which is where you found most of your interest.

The problem solving and designing aspects of electrical engineering were what had appealed to you the most. You could plug input into equations and get the correct answers in your sleep, so creating was what would challenge you in the way you wanted to be.

Since you had taken all of the math and physics prerequisites already, you were able to jump straight into the engineering classes and labs right away in the fall of your junior year. When you had registered in the spring prior, you had wanted to keep two days empty so that you could have days free for your part-time job at the admin office. This had somehow ended up in you having five classes between three different professors. Two of the professors you had only one class each with, which meant you had three classes with the same professor. Your days off from classes had landed on Mondays and Fridays, which you thought would be good bookends to your pretty heavy Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Plus, the admin job would be good for starting and/or finishing homework when it was slow.

_____

The first Monday of the semester was spent getting a quick brief on your duties as administrative assistant. It seemed like it would be pretty simple; answering phones, putting appointments into the computer’s calendar, scheduling tours, and directing people to the correct offices around campus. They also said that you were free to do homework in your down time.

That Monday was pretty busy though, which was okay since you didn’t have any homework aside from printing out the syllabus. (Which you might have used the office printer to do.)

You had some pretty frantic-looking students asking questions about how to change their classes or where to find their professor’s office. Since you were a junior and had changed your major twice, you were pretty fluent with all of the forms and were able to answer their questions easily. You went home around 5:00, which, with the hour lunch, made for an eight hour day. Since you were taking 16 engineering credits, you felt pretty good with working 16 hour weeks.

Tuesday you started with a System Modeling and Control class that was 75 minutes long, and started at 9:00. The professor seemed nice, which was good, but you were more worried about the professor you had later that day since he was the one you had three classes with. Two of which were labs of no more than 25 students. First, though, you had an Electromagnetic Theory lecture with him on Tuesday and Thursdays.

The class was at 10:30, which meant you had fifteen minutes to walk down the hall from your first class. You figured you would at least get a good seat.

Walking from room 215, you counted the numbers on either side of the hall until you reached 220. The door was cracked open with a rubber door stop and you looked through the crack to see that it was empty. There must not have been a class in there yet. You pushed the door open and walked in, seeing there were actually a couple people there on the edges. The room was lecture style, but pretty small with only four rows with 10 seats each going up from the floor. There was a lectern in the middle of three blackboards that had been wiped completely clean. You nodded at the other students as they looked up at you, but chose to sit in the middle of the front row. Since you were probably getting a later start to electrical engineering than most, you wanted to be front and center to absorb as much information as possible. And perhaps you were a bit of a teacher’s pet at times.

You pulled out the fresh, three subject, college ruled, spiral notebook you had gotten for this course and a mechanical pencil. Labeling the first page “Electromagnetic Theory,” you then flipped the page and wrote the date. You also took out the syllabus for the class and skimmed over it again while you waited for the professor and the rest of the class to get there.

Students slowly trickled in, most opting for the edges of the room and a couple joining you in the front row, but still near the sides. Once it hit 20 past, the professor walked in. He was on the taller side, a man in his late thirties from what you could tell, with brown hair that was shorter on the sides and longer and kind of curly on top. He was pretty handsome, in kind of a dorky way. He was wearing a plaid button down shirt tucked into jeans with a black belt and dad sneakers. You giggled at that last part and found your eyes drifting to his left hand to see if there was a ring there. There wasn’t. You shook your head slightly at yourself. He was your professor, and your professor with who you will be spending over five hours a week, and a crush will not make it any easier to learn, you had to remind yourself.

Just before class started, a rush of ten students came in at once, and one finally filled the spot next to yours. The two of you said hi and exchanged names (hers was Sarah), and were starting to talk about majors until you heard a loud scraping sound. The class turned their heads to the front of the room to see the professor pushing the lectern all the way against the wall. He finished and faced forward, noticing that the class had its eyes on him.

“Well, since I’ve got your attention, I might as well start,” he said with a smile and the class chuckled. “As it says in your syllabus, I am Professor Deacon, but as I know some of you know by your familiar faces, I am often referred to as ‘Deaky,’” he said, putting air quotes around the nickname, which earned another laugh.

“You can call me whichever you prefer, because I really don’t care. Alright, so obviously this is the class for Electromagnetic Theory, so if you’re in the wrong room, go ahead and leave now, we won’t judge,” he paused for a second and when no one moved, continued. “Good, we can get started.”

That first class was spent going through the syllabus mostly, and outlining the type of assignments and materials everyone would need for the course. He had a pretty dry sense of humor, and cracked jokes throughout the class, which helped to put everyone at ease. That being said, it seemed like it would be a very technical and involved class, and the assignments would require a lot of time and were process-heavy. Professor Deacon highly encouraged using his office hours for help or to answer any questions, and you made sure to highlight when they were on your syllabus.

When the class came to an end and everyone was packing up, you chatted to Sarah about it.

“Have you had Professor Deacon before?” you asked her.

“Oh, yeah, I had him for Introduction to Electric Circuits my freshman year. He’s a nice guy, and not too tough a grader. Everyone does really call him Deaky, just so you know,” she answered with a smile.

You nodded, “Good to know.”

She left for her next class and you said goodbye to each other before you walked down to the front of the class where Professor Deacon was.

He was writing something down in a little agenda and you stood waiting for him to finish when he looked up and saw you. “Hello,” he said cheerfully.

“Hi. I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, extending your hand for a handshake. His hand met yours and shook it firmly, and you didn’t miss how warm it was against yours. “I just wanted to introduce myself because I’ll be in both of your labs tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s you. I had noticed that there was a student on all three of my rosters. Did I have a really good rating on ratemyprofessor?” he joked.

You laughed lightly and responded, “I couldn’t say. I just declared as Electrical Engineering at the end of last semester, so I have some catching up to do.”

“Really? Most people would have a lot of prereqs to get through first. What was your major before?” he asked warmly.

“Well, first it was math my freshman year and then it was physics last year,” you explained a bit sheepishly.

Professor Deacon didn’t seem to think there was anything unusual about changing your major three times however, and just smiled a toothy smile and said, “Ah, that makes sense. Well, welcome to the department, and I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Thank you. See you tomorrow,” you smiled back before turning around and walking out the door. You were relieved that the professor you would be seeing so much of this semester was nice, although weren’t sure you would be able to bring yourself to call him Deaky.

_____

The syllabus for the labs had said to only bring a folder, pen or pencil, and to wear at least short sleeves, long pants, and closed toed shoes, all of which you had to be willing to get dirty. As you got ready in the morning, you pulled on a faded pair of jeans, a shirt you had used in the past when painting, and your old pair of tennis shoes. You grabbed a jacket to wear over your clothes as you walked through campus and headed out with just a shoulder bag instead of the backpack you normally took to class.

You drove over to campus and parked in the engineering building’s parking lot. You had bought the parking pass for that building since three of your classes were in it, but hadn’t realized that the engineering labs were in a different building on the other side of campus until the day before. You sighed as you turned your car off, knowing you had close to a twenty minute walk, but put on your headphones, turned on some good music, and started walking over.

The building was old and the cinder blocks were painted white, though you could tell from where it was peeling that it had had many coats over the years of varying colors. You had heard from someone in your Computer Science class (which was an hour after your first with Professor Deacon on Tuesdays and Thursdays) that the building used to be the main Engineering building until the university got an endowment for the new, fancy one. Looking at the building, you thought that it must have been pretty cramped since there were only three large rooms and four little ones, which had since been turned into professors’ offices and what could be called the lobby with a check-in desk and no one behind it. There were two offices for the professors whose names you didn’t recognize and they were both of the left side of the building, opposite of the labs. The last one was on the right side, in between the furthest lab and the “lobby” itself, and had a nameplate labeled “John Deacon.”

Each of the lab rooms were designated for a different type of lab. Lab A was filled with cars and engines which you assumed was for mechanical or automotive engineering, Lab B was filled with drafting materials and models which you assumed was for civil engineering, and Lab C was filled with old computers and motors, which was exactly where you were supposed to be.

There were a couple people already in the room, milling about and chatting to each other. You were glad to see Sarah and went up to her to say hi. Looking around at everyone, the two of you laughed at how you all looked more like house painters than engineering students.

“I’m not entirely sure how our clothes would get dirty, but I guess it’s better safe than sorry,” she commented to you.

“I don’t know, maybe if we accidentally blow something up or it catches on fire, the smoot won’t ruin our clothes?” you guessed and the two of you laughed.

“I for one, wasn’t planning on any explosions, but I guess I know to keep a close eye on you now, Y/N,” said a voice from behind you on your right. Sarah and you whipped around to see Professor Deacon standing right there with a smirk on his face. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and Sarah had to hide her giggles behind her hand.

“I-I’m- that was just a joke,” you stammered out.

“Hmmm, I guess we’ll see,” Professor Deacon said, walking to where there was a chalkboard at the front of the lab. Before he turned completely away, though, he shot you a wink that eased your nerves about the joke you made, but for some reason sent a shock of adrenaline (or something else) through your body at the same time.

The rest of the lab went better. Professor Deacon started with introductions of everyone since it was a smaller class and people should definitely know each other by the end of the semester. He then went over the lab and safety procedures, congratulating everyone for their proper attire. He himself was wearing these old carpenter pants that looked straight out of a 90’s catalogue and an oversized t-shirt that seemed like it was a souvenir from Bali but had grease stains all over it. And he was wearing the same sneakers as the day before. You couldn’t help but think it was kinda cute that he wore the same sneakers all the time.

He also took everyone on a little tour of the lab building, starting with Lab A and B briefly and then a more indepth look at a room only accessible through the rear of the building. It was a storage/equipment room that housed a bunch of scrap metal, lumber, spare parts, abandoned student projects, and tools. Everything in there was for free use of students of all labs to work on their projects and the projects for the department. To a bunch of engineering students, it was a treasure trove.

Finally, he took everyone back to Lab C and pointed out all of the stations and larger equipment in the big room. After the tour, he had everyone do a little exercise with some of the tools to get acquainted with them. By the time everyone had completed the exercise, the two hours and forty-five had pretty much elapsed and Professor Deacon let everyone head out a little early.

Of course, since you were in his next lab that took place in 15 minutes, you stayed. And, it seemed that you were the only one in both of these labs, so you stood around awkwardly as everyone left. You were about to grab your phone from your pocket when you heard his voice.

“So you didn’t blow anything up, I’m relieved,” he teased from behind you.

You turned around to see him smirking yet again and laughed lightly before replying, “I mean, it’s only been the first part of the first day so I wouldn’t take your eyes off me just yet.”

There was a beat when both of you realized what that sounded like and you saw Professor Deacon’s ears get pink as you felt your neck heat up. Your eyes widened and you determinedly did not make eye contact.

Trying to relieve the tension, he cleared his throat and said, “Anyway, I’m sorry, but you’re about to have the same exact lab in 15 minutes. I would say you could leave but then you wouldn’t meet everyone else, and there are a couple different things that I talk about.”

You were glad that he changed the subject, and further tried to get things back to normal, “That’s okay. I’ll have a leg up on everyone when we try out the equipment.”

The two of you laughed, and you couldn’t help noticing what a nice laugh he had, “That’s the spirit. They’ll be baffled at your ability to use the air compressor slightly better than they can.”

“Hey, I was the best and fastest in the class just now. It might not have been a competition, but you know it’s true,” you said, still smiling, but pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“You’re very passionate. I like that in a… student,” he said, matching your intense gaze. Neither of you had time to think about his hesitation before saying “student” because a group of your classmates walked in at that moment.

Looking down at his watch, he noticed that it was only five minutes before class started, and he walked away, giving you a nod, to go grab the lab rules handouts.

You watched him walk away and sighed to yourself. It seemed the crush you were trying to fend off wasn’t going anywhere, and with all this time spent with him, was only continuing to grow.

💥💥💥

Taglist: @somekindof-cheese @gwilyoubemine @deacytits @supersonicfreddie @siriuslovesmarlene @bowiequeen @acdeaky @deakysgirl @sunflower-borhap-boys @deakyfordays @queensilveryrog @happy-at-home @ceruleanrainblues @briarrose26 @bensrhapsody @painkiller80 

I just kinda created this taglist so if you would like to be taken off or added, just send me a message or ask!

Reminder that my requests are open! If you would like something in a sort of one shot format/length or blurb, etc. send it in! I’ll write for any of the Borhap or Queen boys (Freddie only platonically), Lucy, Patrick Murray, Gardner Langway and adult!Tim Murphy or possibly any of the other characters these people have played if I know enough about them!

[sighingstarbeam]

Spies and Gods - Chapter 10

Summary: You and Loki head out on a night on the town. But you need to make a pit stop along the way.

Word Count: 3,245

A/N:  It's finally here! I'm finished with my classes and I have some time to write. With everything going on in the world right now, I'll try my best to upload more chapters, hopefully I can pry one out every week and get a schedule up and going. Thanks for the patience and stay safe!

Chapter 9 | Chapter 11

The next hour you debated if your decision was right. Your mind kept weighing the polar opposite options yet you put on your makeup as if you already made your choice. Every time you thought about going back to Loki’s room and calling the deal off you lingered to how you deserved a night out with your friends, even if Loki was in the background. On the other hand, when you thought about how much you wanted to leave the facility, what would happen if you got caught? New York was big, yes, and you never told anyone which nightclub you were going to specifically as there were hundreds just in the city alone, but if someone saw you leave and grew suspicious who’s to say what would happen? So many scenarios scattered in your brain. That person would rat you out to the team, they’d shun you for the rest of your life, Tony would kick you out immediately, he would second guess why he let you stay in the first place, which was something you never quite fully understood. If worse came to worse, you could always move back in with Lilly and Maya. But what if they thought you abandoned them? You didn’t mean to. In fact, you were forced to leave your current living situation. They wouldn’t lea- Before your headache could grow any larger, you heard a knock on your bathroom door. Your breath hitched when a familiar voice spoke up, “It’s me,” Tony said, “I’m sorry about before, but we really need you to do this. We’ll celebrate with a restaurant, your choice, just us two to get to know each other. Maybe Pepper. No, not Pepper.” You could practically hear his head rushing with what he was trying to spit out as he hesitated, “What I’m trying to say is we’re heading out. Don’t let Loki… Honestly don’t let him do anything but breathe and blink. Steve and his squad should be back tomorrow from their mission. Hang tight until then.” You didn’t say anything, you were processing the fact that Tony actually said the words “I’m sorry” to you. On top of that he wanted to take you out to dinner and have a real conversation. Not just the chats you have in the lab about his works, but about both of your lives, something you have secretly been yearning since day one. “O-Okay.” You stammered, careful not to burn yourself on the curling rod, “See you later.” Great, now you’ll feel some guilt for sneaking out. To be fair, it was Tony’s own fault for not letting you live your life. About an hour later you were dolled up in makeup and a form fitting maroon dress with off shoulder sleeves that Maya helped you pick out a few months back. It was already 8:00 and you promised you’d arrive at that time. You quickly texted Maya and Lilly that you were heading out and you had to “pick up a friend”. Speaking of which, you needed to tell Loki you were ready. Peeking your head out of your door, purse in hand, you checked the hall if anyone was around. Your heels clacked on the linoleum tile as you crossed the few feet to Loki’s door. You knocked sharply, waiting for him to emerge. A part of you wanted him to not answer, for him to end his own deal so you could have a reason to stay home. Or you could leave him alone and go by yourself and deal with the repercussions later. Well, somebody was listening and decided to pull a joke on you as Loki opened the door. You would’ve noticed him looking at you surprised by how you were dressed if it weren’t for the fact that you were too distracted by his attire. He went with his usual Asgardian wear of green, gold, and black leather outfitted with actual gold bands. “What are you wearing?” You asked. “What do you mean?” Loki questioned. “We’re going to a party in a club, not a renaissance fair.” Loki was taken aback from your comment, “I am dressed for a party. In Asgard this was standard attire for events our family held.” You rubbed the bridge of your nose out of frustration, “You’re on Earth now. You got to own something like a suit.” In almost an instant a shimmer of gold surrounded his head as a helmet with long horns manifested on Loki’s head, “How is this?” He mused. You crossed your arms, “If you can do that, you can illusion yourself human clothes.” Loki stared you down, then sighed rolling his eyes, knowing he wouldn’t win this situation. The golden shimmer surrounded him as he changed into the black suit he wore on the first day you saw him. “This should suffice, but know this; ” He leaned in, a little too close for comfort, before hissing his next words, “this night will not grant you permission to treat me like a cornered dog. Just because this is your planet does not give you access to order me whenever you please. I am a god in this realm- and for a moment your divine ruler.” You resisted the urge to step back from his proximity, for doing so would only pin you against the wall. Instead you stood your ground, trying to match the intensity of Loki’s glare. “If you say so. But if you do anything that raises any red flags while we’re out, I won’t hesitate to drag your ass back here early.” You pulled your phone out, it was a few minutes after you were supposed to meet up, plus you needed to pick up a gift. “We gotta go. Does the divine ruler want to stop for some fast food on the way?” You asked sarcastically. Loki’s manner transitioned from his intimidating look to amused as he let out a soft chuckle. 

___

Getting to the garage was a lot easier than you expected. With practically everyone gone nobody saw you and Loki made it to the rows of cars that were perfectly lined up. When you were first moving in Tony explained to you that most of the vehicles had keys hung up accordingly on a grid wall. Most of that conversation he mostly bragged that at least three-quarters of the cars belonged to him personally, which at least gave you a wide variety to choose from. “Got a preference?” You asked Loki, perusing the key selections. Loki looked back at the cars with a sour look, “Please tell me we are not driving any of those.” You were bemused at his remark, “What’s wrong with them? I mean, sure they’re a bit pretentious like that Ferrari- and those other two Ferrari's… but there are a few cool ones we could borrow.” You scanned the row, a black car caught your eye. “How about this Tesla? I heard they’re pretty cool.” Part of you knew that taking a car that glamorous would catch a few eyes, but if you were going to break the rules might as well go all the way in style. “Whatever you think is best.” Loki responded, “Personally I would never be caught dead in any of these, but if this is the only mode of transportation, then it will be adequate for the night.” No matter what you said to the man you could never seem to satisfy him, even if it was for a moment. You plucked the key from the slot and the two of you made your way to the sleek Tesla. Simultaneously you both entered the car. When you turned the key in the ignition you expected the screen in the dashboard to show different selections, except you were greeted by the display illuminating a video of a lit fireplace. A wave of warmth flooded the car as if the fire actually gave out heat from the heating system. The speakers blasted a funky tune of smooth jazz music, and without warning both yours and Loki’s seat reclined backwards. “Well well well, I didn’t realize this was your true intention for the night.” said Loki, showing off a wicked grin. “If you wanted to go a different route, we could have stayed upstairs.” “What? No! I didn’t-” Your face went beet red. You shot up away from the reclined seat when you tried to fiddle with the controls. After a few buttons pressed and smacks on the screens the fireplace video and heat turned off as well as the music. You readjusted your seat before selecting the maps to enter in the location of the club. God I hope they cleaned in here before we got here. You thought to yourself. “We’re never going to talk about this again.” You only heard a chuckle from the god next to you, your heart was beating out of your chest. Why was it doing that? Maybe it was because you were still in shock by the unexpected romance mode the car was set to. Yes, that was it.

___

Driving in downtown New York at night always brought a sense of surrealistic peace to you. The way the lights lit the structures in the distance, the ambiance, the shadows bent in contrast, everything melded together perfectly. You have only lived in New York for less than a year, but you would consider it to be one of the only few places you enjoyed residing in. After the incident in 2012, you fled as far as you could until you reached Maine. For a year it was your shelter, then Pennsylvania for six months, then Vermont for two years, and so on. You jumped from state to state in the northeast area for five years. For even longer you knew that Tony could be your biological father. At any time you could have gone to Stark Tower, to follow the only lead you had read once in a file years ago. Yet you didn’t. Instead you hid from the past of who you were and what you were forced to do. If it wasn’t for the voice in the back at your head screaming you would have left the country the second you had the chance. When you finally had enough of the voice there was only one remedy you knew that could soothe the coarse yells that have been echoing in your ears. The moment you stepped foot in front of the tower, the voice ceased. Now you wished there was another voice to tell you what to do now. Originally your plan was to leave the country, perhaps Paris, find a cozy cottage on the outskirts of town away from the population. Maybe get a cat or two, maybe a bird. The point was to finally be free and forget the past, to finally be alone. But there was a tug in a different direction. The direction that kept you with your friends, Maya and Lilly. A chance to be part of a family with the Avengers, who’s trust you have gained from most of the team the near two months you’ve been there. Even Bucky was slowly starting to initiate conversations with you. Even with the new, unexpected life that was thrown your way, making the decision to leave it behind or stick with it was a sea of voice in your mind. For tonight however, you were going to drown out the voices with liquor, loud EDM, and dancing. All of course while keeping an eye on the Asgardian prince. Speaking of which, you thought that he has most likely never been to an earthling party. “So…” you droned out, Loki’s gaze still out the window, “I’m sure you probably haven’t been to a club on Earth before, so I’m giving you a heads up that this is going to be different than whatever parties you’re used to.” Loki cocked an eyebrow, finally turning his head to you, “And what parties would that be?” “I don’t know. I thought it was more like royal stuff with balls and fancy dresses.” Considering he was a prince and the stories Thor told you about Asgard (not to mention Thor and Loki’s choice of fashion and speech), you only assumed Loki had only been to medieval like parties. Loki smirked, almost as if he was reminiscing about the memories, “We did have parties similar to those on Asgard. However I have observed and even participated in Midgardian-like events.” “Oh yeah? When was the last time you partied or to put it in simpler terms, ‘go out’?” Loki thought for a moment, “The most recent I recall was on Sakaar. True the ruler was a clueless sociopath who wanted everything his way, but he did throw marvelous events.” “He sounds like somebody I know.” You teased, not getting a very positive response from Loki. You changed the subject before an awkward silence could interfere, “We need to make a pit stop before we get to the club.” “What for?” “I didn’t have time to get my friend a gift.” It was only five minutes later when you got to the store Lilly loved. It was a small spiritual shop that sold crystals, candles, all sorts of things that Lilly had interest in. She’s a self-proclaimed witch, which didn’t bother you, except for certain incense she burned that filled the entire apartment, nearly setting the smoke alarm off. Hopefully they sold something that Lilly would like and didn’t have. You turned off the car and unbuckled when you noticed Loki wasn’t moving, “Come on, I’m not leaving you alone.” Loki gave an annoyed look, but quietly obeyed and exited the car. The store was small but had a lot of aisles to peruse. You and Loki definitely were out of place, with it’s dark wood floor and even darker concrete walls. Actually, with Loki’s black suit and demeanor he could fit right in. But you were only there for five minutes tops, not wanting to waste any more time. Going through each aisle you took note of what Lilly would enjoy. Most of the items you knew she already had, except for a few mugs that were cheesy like “Witch Please” or “Witches Be Crazy”. The first thing you needed to do was pick out a birthday card, which thankfully the store had a small display on the side. While reading through the cheesy ones, you settled on a card that had a cat on the cover, but had a thoughtful message on the inside. Looking over to Loki, you found him perplexed at not only the greeting cards, but the general atmosphere of the store. “So this friend, she actually is a witch?” “Yeah, but she doesn’t practice a lot of spells. She mostly does tarot cards and sage burnings.” You didn’t fully understand her lifestyle, but you respected it nonetheless. Loki furrowed his brows before continuing down the aisles. After finding Lilly’s card, you skimmed down the aisle until a book caught your eye. The title read: 101 Love Spells to Spice up Your Relationship. You picked up the book, examining the cover and flipped through a few of the pages, taking notice of the more sensual spells. You actually considered buying it as a joke, until a familiar voice rang in your ear. “I didn’t realize Midgard had spell books, especially of the sultry design.” You jumped from the sudden lack of personal space. Loki was leaning towards your ear, observing the book from your hand. “I’m not buying it.” You blurted, taking a step away that ended more like a shuffle, “I mean, this is just a gag book. I wasn’t actually considering it.” If only you had a mirror to prove to yourself your face was red. You tossed the book back onto the shelf with a thud. Next to it was another book, Spells For Self Care. Flipping through the pages this was the perfect book for Lilly. D.I.Y. organic face masks, spells to calm your mind, even some advice on how to deal with stressful energies. You tucked the book under your arm along with the card, “Let’s get out of here,” you said to Loki, determined for you and him to forget about the conversation prior. The two of you checked out the items along with a gift bag and some colorful tissue paper. You were in there a little over five minutes, but you would still make it to the club in time. The drive was short, but the silence made it feel longer. You didn’t know what to talk about to a literal demigod, and small talk wasn’t your forte in the first place. If it weren’t for the traffic you would speed just a bit faster to get to the club even sooner. What else could you talk about with Loki? So what’s your favorite color? Your hopes and dreams? If you had to marry, kill, or f- “Y/N?” Loki asked. “Hm?” You were so lost in thought you didn’t realize you arrived. “Oh, yeah I’m just looking for a spot.” You pulled into a parking garage a few blocks away. The only space you could squeeze into was on the third story, and just your luck the elevator was out of service, forcing the two of you to walk down the concrete stairs in your heels. When you finally made it to the front of the club, the line wasn’t extremely long, but you remembered Maya saying something about telling the bouncer your name and you were in Lilly’s party. So just as Maya said, the bouncer pulled away the velvet rope, but not before asking about Loki. “He’s with me.” You stated. The bouncer gave a questioning glare, but let him through as well. Before you opened the doors to the club itself, you pulled Loki aside in the lounge. “Before we go in, there are a few ground rules.” Loki rolled his eyes, “I thought we already settled those earlier.” “Yes and no. First off, you’re not allowed out of my sight. If I need to go to the bathroom, my friends are in charge of you. Second, don’t try anything funny. Thor told me you like to play tricks, but not tonight. Are we clear?” He grinned ear to ear, placing his hand on his chest, “I give you my word I will not play a trick on your friends.” “Great.” You nodded, averting your gaze, “And one question, do you think anybody will recognize you?” Loki’s grin slowly faded as he tilted his head, “What do you mean?” “Your reputation isn’t exactly… favorable. I don’t know how much you made the news.” “You didn’t know who I was when we first met.” He had a point, you were a bit busy escaping with your life from actual creatures. “Not many people cared to memorize this face. I’ve been here long enough and nobody bats an eye. Now I must ask you the same question.” You tilted your head this time, “I was told of your predicament. Are you sure no one will recognize you?” To be honest, you didn’t know. You’ve been really good about keeping out of trouble, and you haven’t seen any agents in years. “I’m sure we’ll both be fine.” Loki’s grin curved its way back in, “Great.” You sure as hell hoped you sounded convincing. Not just for him, but for yourself.

[milstrim]

Rise from the Ashes; Just to See You Again

Chapter 2: It’s a Girl!

Mary Fitzpatrick stared at him in disbelief, her brown eyes wide, looking as though everything she had ever known had been a lie. The woman glanced between him, Pepper, and the papers in front of them.

"You want it? You actually want the baby? Thi-this, I--really?!?" A smile was tugging at her lips, as if she was afraid to actually believe him. Her brown eyes were hopeful, before they turned a little doubtful, "This isn't some impulse decision, or a dare or something is it? Because you'll have to be there for it and--"

"--I-yes! I really want it, and that's a promise. I've put a lot of thought into it, Mary, this wasn't just some spur of the moment decision," he gave her a long stare, making sure she knew he was being sincere, "I'm in it for the long haul. This is my kid, and I'm willing to do right by them."

She was smiling in earnest now, her eyes brighter than before, before she seemingly reigned herself in and turned to look at the papers, which he passed over to her.

"In there is another NDA," Pepper started, listing what the woman would be signing, "A contract saying you are waving away your parental rights, that Tony has full legal control over decisions for the baby once it is born..." and on it on it went, making Tony even more glad she was there. Legal stuff always gave him a headache, but it was particularly bad when it involved his baby, he found, "...and of course we'll have to call in our lawyers, each of you needs a legal representative to go over these before anything is signed."

"Does that mean they'll get signed today or not?" Tony asked, turning to Pepper, who shook her head.

"Our lawyers are on standby, but I don't know about Ms. Fitzpatrick..." she trailed off, looking at the woman in question with a hint of doubt. Mary shook her head in response.

"I live in New York. I only flew out here to have a meeting with you and I honestly didn't think anything would get this far," she answered, "Should I call him or...?"

"I suppose," Pepper answered, "unless you want to go find a different lawyer."

"What's his name?" he asked, "I'll pay for his ticket and everything, I want him down here as soon as possible."

And he meant it. The man, Brian Torres, was in California and had arrived at his hotel room by 9:37, exactly 7 hours later. But until then, they had time to fill.

"Perfect," Pepper said, taking up the papers and putting them in a folder, "He'll be here tonight and we can go over everything tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow?" Tony exclaimed, impatient. Pepper shot him a look, exasperated.

"Yes, tomorrow," she turned to address Mary, "Feel free to let him know all expenses are covered. Hotel, plane tickets, transportation, everything."

"Of course," the woman responded, her smile light, "I'll let him know,"

She stood up to leave, and Pepper followed suit, grabbing Mary's coat and bag for her. But Tony couldn't help but feel disappointed. He had planned on making a huge decision today, and he had basically done nothing. Tony stood up to show Mary to the lobby, and possibly even her car, but the urge to do something more was too strong to resist.

"How about you come by my house,"

Mary and Pepper both stopped, Mary looking surprised and a little confused while Pepper's face was masked with cool indifference.

"You can see where the kid'll grow up and we can throw around ideas. We could move you in temporarily while you're pregnant, so you can stay close by and all."

She tilted her head at that, thoughtful.

"That's not a bad idea, though I'll have to wait until I'm on maternity leave."

"Alright, then," he said, going to hold the door open for her, "I'm driving."

They managed to get to the parking lot, into his car, and completely off the property without Obadiah noticing them. Then again, Tony had told Pepper to keep him busy, and she was nothing if not perfect at her job.

Tony turned on the radio to some random 80's channel, keeping the volume low so they could talk easily. Mary made no move to talk though, and they were halfway to the mansion when he couldn't take the silence anymore.

"Have you thought of any names or is that going to just be a 'me' decision, cause' I've already been looking at some. Of course I don't know the baby's gender, but I was thinking about James or Jamie, though I don't know if James is too basic or not."

He rambled on, trying to hide how nervous all of it really made him feel. He felt mostly successful, which was probably due to his years of practice in front of the press. Mary smiled, apparently amused.

"It's a girl, if you were wondering," she told him, answering the question he hadn't asked aloud.

Tony's heart leaped in joy and he couldn't contain the goofy grin that spread over his face. A girl, a girl! He was going to have a girl. It made the situation feel even more real and Mary had to let him know that the light had turned green.

He didn't stop smiling the whole way back, throwing names back and forth, though he still wasn't satisfied with any of them. He might want to look at some old family names to see if any of them caught his eye.

"This way, Ms. Fitzpatrick," he directed Mary when he parked the car. She followed him inside, taking in the size and the view of the mansion with a pleased smile. She looked worried, however, when she saw the bar, her lips pursed.

"I'm getting rid of it. Going clean and getting rid of all the alcohol in the house."

"Good. And, um, the cliff seems rather dangerous,"

His heart jumped at that, caught between speeding up and stopping all together. His house overlooked a cliff, a fucking cliff.

"I'll get it fenced, and she shouldn't ever be by herself long enough to somehow fall off a cliff," he assured, making a mental note to ask Jarvis to have some people come over to build a fence, "Here, I'll show you to where you'll be staying."

Her room was down the next hallway over from his. Like his room, it had a nice view of the ocean and high tech lined the windows and walls, telling the temperature, news, blocking out lights and creating visuals of whatever she pleased. The tech was nice (obviously), but the room itself was a little plain, after all, it was only a guest room. Mary sat down on the bed, taking in the ginormous room.

"It's nice, Mr. Stark."

"Please, call me Tony."

"Then it's very nice, Tony. Where will the kid's room be?"

"It'll be across from mine. It hasn't been set up yet though, so there isn't much to see," he told her, shrugging.

"I'll take your word for it," she smiled, getting up. Immediately she gasped and doubled over, clutching her belly, Tony rushing to her side in an instant.

"What? What is it? Are you okay?"

"She kicked!" she exclaimed, grabbing his hands and placing them on her stomach. Tony let her, shocked into a stunned silence. After a moment he looked up at her in confusion, not feeling anything, "That was the first time she kicked!"

"I guess she tired herself out," Tony chuckled, standing up and putting his hands in his pockets, feeling awkward, and a little disappointed he didn't get to feel it. Mary seemed to realize his discomfort, and moved the conversation forward.

"What else were you thinking for names? Or godparents?"

"I've already got a godfather in mind, and I was going to look over some old family records for names."

"Have you got them with you?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Yeah?"

And that's how the two ended up, hours later, sitting on the floor combing through old books and photos of Tony's family history. They ordered takeout (and some pistachio ice cream for Mary, who was having cravings) and played a movie while they came up with baby names, Jarvis keeping track of their favorites. They looked at cribs and toys and more baby stuff than Tony had seen in his entire life. It wasn't until Pepper came in to ask him for a signature for some company thing did they realized how late it was, just past nine. Which, okay, wasn't actually late, but he hadn't expected for her to be over for so long. They'd been at his house since 3:45.

Tony offered for her to stay the night, but Mary insisted she'd rather go to the hotel, so he drove her back.

By the time he laid down in bed he was still too excited to go to bed, despite the fact that he'd worked in the lab for four hours after Mary left, and he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. So he had Jarvis download some parenting-guide books. They weren't anything super complex, just a lot of reading on basic baby needs and how to interact with them.

He shot his AI a dirty look, sure that Jarvis had picked some really simple books to dumb things down for him, but didn't say anything. It was a good start, really. Tony didn't know anything about kids, but he was about to learn. The man smiled again. It was a goofy grin that crinkled his eyes and seemed to lighten his entire being.

"It's a girl, J," he grinned aloud, even though the AI already knew that. Which he was sure to tell Tony, his tone full of sass. Tony fell asleep with that thought repeating, making promises to himself and his kid to be the best dad he could be. I promise:

I'll be there for her. She'll always be loved, and she'll know. I'll tell her everyday. I'll never hurt her, and I'll keep her safe from harm. I'll accept her, I'll love her.

God, he couldn't wait to meet his kid.

Previous Part  ///  Next Part

[spiders-n]

Tease Shirt

A headcannon struck when Z so graciously gifted us this image so I followed it straight to hell. 

Now on AO3

-----

Peter has been studying for his last final for what feels like years when his phone buzzes against the hard surface of the university library table.

MJ: Hey dork. I need a small favor.

Peter’s brow furrows.

Peter: Shoot.

MJ: I have been sexiled yet again

MJ: and while I would normally just kill time around campus for the next couple of hours I just finished my last final and I feel like if I don’t take a shower in the next 10 minutes I might not ever smell clean again. Would you mind if I came over and used your shower?

Peter couldn’t help the frown that slips onto his face. This is the 6th time MJ's been unable to get into her dorm since January because her roommate is having sex. She normally doesn't complain because she loves her roommate and is generally a huge supporter of any woman who actively claims their sexuality but she had let it slip to him once that she was beginning to feel like she spent more time avoiding her dorm than actually living in it. He doesn’t even need to think about it when he types out his response.

Peter: Of course, Em. You don’t have to ask, I made the extra key fob for a reason. I’m still studying for my Orgo Lab final but it’s all yours for as long as you need it. 🤓

Even though he was technically not allowed to, he’d taken his key fob apart in Mr. Stark’s shop and made duplicates for Ned and MJ to get into his building when it had become clear to them that his living arrangement in a newer dorm that gave each resident a private room and bathroom was, by far, the most agreeable place for the three of them to hang out.

MJ had used her’s a hundred times over the course of the last 9 months, Peter is sure, but there is something oddly intimate about letting her be there while he isn’t. When he'd typed his message, the only thing in his mind had been his memory of MJ during last semester's final season, exhausted and worn, and even Peter had to admit, looking a little worse for the wear. Now that he's paused long enough to push past that mental image and the immediate urge to fix it anyway he can, he thinks that perhaps saying "you don't have to ask" may have been a bit too much. He panics for a long moment, trying to remember what state he’d left his room in but eventually resigns his worries to the back burner when he remembers that MJ once saw him blow his nose with a sock and then proceed to leave the snot crusted sock on his bedside table for a week and has since managed to voluntarily and enthusiastically kiss him 59 times since (yes he’s counted). Either she was just as gone for him as he was for her or she had a serious lack of regard for the hygiene of others. 

He can't help the surge of excitement he always got when he and MJ crossed into any new territory in their relationship. He'd given her the key to his dorm as a friend and now she'd using it as his girlfriend and that felt very significant to him in a way he knew would make her fondly roll her eyes at him if he shared with her.  

MJ: omg I’m definitely taking a nap in ur bed and you can’t stop me!

MJ: also thank you

Peter squirms as he reads the first message and tries desperately not to think about MJ freshly out of the shower and in his bed.

He’s seen her just out of the shower twice in his life, and would be lying if he said they were anything less than moments that defined his teenage sexuality. The first time was when she accidentally got snowed in at May’s apartment one weekend in their junior year of high school. She'd stopped by the bring him his homework and decathlon flash cards after he'd missed school due spider-manning a little too hard the night before, and didn't get the chance to go home until Monday evening. That was the weekend she'd found out about him and also the weekend that he'd first realized that he was probably in love with her, a realization that came about largely because of how incredible she looked after her shower. He remembers the very confusing combination of feelings he’d felt when he’d seen May’s green stripped pajamas sticking to MJ’s still wet skin as she stumbled into Peter’s room from the steam-filled bathroom and shook out her hair from it’s bun. He’s still convinced that the whole scene happened in slow motion.

The second time was during their summer abroad after graduation. They were staying in a bunk bed laden Airbnb in south France with Ned and Betty and a couple other Midtown Tech graduates. Peter had been talking himself in and out of just finally asking her out all summer. They were practically already dating in that they spent most of their time together, wholeheartedly supported each other's hopes and dreams, and very routinely accompanied each other to various events that society required people to bring dates to. His only hang up was the unyielding fear that making things romantic would ruin the best friendship he'd ever had outside of Ned. That hang up was mostly stomped out when he saw her next that night. She’d stepped into the room in blue silk shorts and a matching tank top wearing, and Peter remembers this very clearly, absolutely no bra. She had water droplets sitting on her shoulders and arms as she wrestled her hair into a towel and she finally moved her body upright he could see the faintest sliver of exposed stomach resting just above the band of her shorts. It was, in Peter’s opinion, one of the most under appreciated Michelle Jones looks of all time. And Peter had very thoroughly appreciated it at least 4 times.

He glances back down at his Organic Chemistry text book from the screen of his phone, the page half hidden by the notes he’d been going over, and groans at the reality that he’s at least an hour away from an A on his final and more realistically two if he wants to walk in feeling really confident.

Peter takes a second to gather his will and silently reminds himself that even if he was with MJ in his room at that moment the most that was likely to happen would be some making out and co-napping since they hadn’t actually done anything more than that yet. His monkey brain then counters back at him that literally nothing in the world actually sounds as good to him in that moment than making out with MJ and then taking a nap and he’s back to grumpily looking down at his textbook.

It only takes a couple minutes of begrudging reading for him to actually gets caught up in the material and loose track of time for while. It's an hour after their original conversation that his phone buzzes and snaps him back into the real world.

MJ: How much longer do you think you’ll be studying? You should come nap with me.

And then the temptation to say fuck it and just chance getting a slightly less awesome grade in Orgo was back in full force. He takes a deep breath and pries himself away from the alluring thought of a warm bed and an even warmer MJ. 

Peter: The thought did cross my mind. I am probably another 45 minutes away from feeling very confident for this exam, though. Will you wait for me?

Peter hits send and forces his attention back to the material. Whatever the answer, the sooner he finishes studying the sooner he’ll be able to see her.

Five minutes later his phone buzzes and he flips it over to see that he has a Snapchat from MJ.

When he opens it his barely suppressed moan is caught in his throat. MJ is laying on his bed, hair twisted up into a towel, glasses on instead of her normal contacts, lips covered in his f a v o r i t e shimmery chapstick that tastes like mint, all of which would make Peter want to jump her bones even more than he normally does, but on top of all that she is very clearly wearing one of his shirts. One of his Stark Industries shirts.

He’s so overcome by the image that it disappears and he has to replay it again to read the text she’d left in small print over her shoulder.

“I’ll be here all night….” It read. At that Peter actually does moan at that. Out loud, and it turns a couple heads from near by tables. He doesn’t care though because this picture of a very cuddly and soft MJ in his fucking shirt literally waiting for him to get home is too suggestive for his over crowded brain to take. He closes his textbook with more force than is sticky necessary and shoves it into his backpack, scrambling to do the same to the highlighters and notebooks he’d spread around the table as well.

When he’s packed up he grabs his phone and texts MJ.

Peter: I’m coming home now

MJ’s response is almost instantaneous.

MJ: what happened to feeling really confidant for your Orgo exam?

Peter rolls his eyes and then grins. If she wants to play coy he can too.

Peter: it got really hard

He sends and then waits for her to open the message before typing again

Peter: to focus, I mean

MJ’s response lives in the gray dot dot dot at the bottom of Peter’s screen for what feels like ten years before she finally send it.

MJ: Maybe I can help you work it out…

And it’s the ellipsis at the end that forces him into action. Suddenly, before he can bully his brain into keeping up with his body, he’s out of the library and making his way steadily across campus to his dorm with the kind of speed that he normally only employs when he’s patrolling but he’s loathe to find a time that more desperately calls for such measures.

In the end, he learns two very important lessons.

The first is that there is nothing hotter than coming home to find your girlfriend spraying canned whipped cream directly into her mouth clad not only in your T-shirt but also in your boxers. And as he later finds out, absolutely nothing else.

The second is that you tend to test better when you take an exam after a post orgasm induced sleep. Who knew?

[lexiseigneur]

Part 2 Chapter 2: Out of the light, into the unknown

Lexi showered to rid herself of the stench of the city. Then she read, cozily tucked in her blankets. At some point, she fell asleep, her book forming a tent above her chest.

The slamming of a car door woke her. She frowned because this was not Quinlan. Whoever this was entered the house, and she jumped out of the bed and listened. Then because she did not want to meet that person in the confines of her bedroom, she flew toward the stairs and collided with him. Her brain was overwhelmed by dissonance.

This was clearly Quinlan. But it was not. She was screaming his name in her mind and the words sounded flat. They were not going anywhere. He could not hear her. The Bond was gone. His expression exacerbated her anxiety. Quinlan was as lost as she was.

“How?” she whispered.

She sighed when he touched her and his skin was rough and familiar. His arms around her were almost crushing.

“Are...are you hurt?” he asked.

“No. You?”

Lexi did not feel better that he was already looking for a solution. It only highlighted how clueless they both were. What good were two thousand years of experience in such a situation? He knew as much about the Bond as she did. And she knew very little.

“I am unharmed.”

“There...there must be a reason this is happening.”

Quinlan buried his face in her neck.

“We will fix this.”

His words were a little muffled and she wanted to cry because in the Bond, they always rang clear.

“There are only so many reasons the Bond can be disrupted,” she said. It was just another problem to solve. And together they had solved the impossible. They could do this. They had to.

“There is distance...” he said.

“Dense metals...”

He stood straight and alert.

“The jamming devices.”

“What? They don't work like that.”

“You deducted that we function on another plane...another frequency than the Strigoi. We could even perceive the original devices. Is it such a stretch someone might have modified them to produce this effect?”

“I really don't see how or why.”

Quinlan let go of her and drew his sword.

“With such interference, we are distracted… weaker. Perhaps whoever did this was not expecting my return to occur quite so early.”

It made sense. Lexi strained to listen to the sounds around the house. Mice, deer, birds, a few squirrels fighting nearby. No humans.

“I don't hear...”

“It does not mean they were not here. The range of the devices is limited, but they could be lying in wait on the edge of our perception.”

And with those words, he rushed outside and lifted his face to the breeze. Lexi imitated him and picked up irrelevant traces near the cars. Quinlan disappeared between the trees and she followed, hopeful. Had he detected something she had not? In those matters, he still had the advantage of his considerable experience.

Then he veered, one time then two then three and her hope died. He was not following a trail, his changes of direction appeared random.

After almost one hour, he stopped. His sword fell on dry leaves and his shoulders slumped. She could not feel him, but she was not completely blind.

“I don't know what to do,” he said.

His voice was hoarse and suddenly the possibility that the Bond might never be restored hit her.

“Quinlan…If we don’t find it...”

He winced. She took his hand and faced him. His eyes were fixated on a point on the ground, unseeing. Lexi knew that expression. He was looking for the silver place. If he unleashed his soul to surround her, its warmth didn’t reach her.

“I’m sorry, I failed. Please, try to find it,” he said still looking at the ground.

Lexi couldn’t bear his looking away. She reached for his face, caressed it, begging. Quinlan arms snapped around her. His hand dug into her hair, pressed her face against his chest.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

His heartbeat was familiar. Calming. Anchored by his familiar music, she plunged into herself.

Lexi opened her mind’s eyes, intact in that realm. She stood in the house that was her psyche. On her right, the plain wall used to be the entrance to a dark basement.

She faced the front door and ran to it. It was locked. So she pulled and kicked and even pleaded, but the door remained locked. Then she ran to the nearest window and pulled the curtains open.

There was no window, only another wall. She checked another curtain and met the same light green tapestry.

Lexi was the problem. The silver place was out of her reach, not Quinlan’s.

She opened her real eyes.

“I can't find it. I mean...it's blocking me. The door there is locked. I'm the one who changed. What did I do wrong?”

“You cannot be sure it's anything that you did. This is not something that ever existed before. We are wholly ignorant of its inner mechanisms.”

She mumbled how scared she was, but she wasn’t sure he could hear her.

“Lexi…I loved you without the Bond, and I will continue no matter what happens.”

She believed him but his absence in her head left a crippling abyss. For just a moment, she needed that pain to go away.

So she kissed him. In between those desperate kisses, she whispered words of love that now needed to be passed from lips to lips.

When they fell on the damp and uneven forest ground, she didn’t care. It only mattered that when he pressed himself inside her, the ache in her soul was forgotten.

After that moment, they continued kissing until her lips felt bruised, because that also dulled the emptiness.

They stayed on the rotting leaves, tucked inside Quinlan’s coat, until rain forced them back inside the house. Lexi wanted to drag him to bed and sleep. But Quinlan had other ideas.

He stood in the middle of the living room, dripping on the hardwood floors from the rain, seemingly lost in thought. Lexi knew better than to interrupt.

“The book might have answers,” he said and started toward the stairs.

She followed closely.

“What?”

“The Occido Lumen.”

She had not thought about it in years. Quinlan yanked open the metal trunk sitting in a corner of their bedroom and took out a wooden box. Inside the box, the pages of the Occido Lumen were bound together by string.

“I thought it was just a bunch of allegories and stories about Strigoi hunters.”

“When I translated it with the Professor and by myself, I focused on mentions of the Master and the Ancients. I only glazed over those that were not useful. But this would be the only place containing knowledge about our kind.”

The velum was yellowed by time but the illuminations still brightly colored. She recalled a conversation on their first encounter.

“There were others before you? You think they are mentioned in there?”

“I recall explanations about the silent voice of the Master. Perhaps we can find similar texts about the silent voice of the half-breeds.”

“They could have shared the Bond, if they met.”

“Indeed.”

He shed his harness and coat, dried himself and unbound the pages. Lexi did not have the desire to smile but it was close. If there were any clues to be found, Quinlan would have them sooner or later.

“Let's get to work,” he said.

Lexi assisted where she could. Mostly by waiting until the sun shone bright and high to take pictures of the hidden scriptures. As he studied the texts, she associated the pictures with their translations. She made three piles, one for the useless ones, another for the ambiguous ones and one for those whose content was unknown and possibly useful.

This took four days. When he was not working, she listened to his retelling of the contents he had just translated. That night they drank their lab-grown blood in front of a roaring fire.

“In the 9th century, a village on the coast of France became deserted in the span of three days. The author describes how strangers came with weapons and dug out the villagers from a nearby beach before killing them and burning their bodies. Those strangers never showed their faces as they wore hoods and masks.”

“Sun Hunters? Cleaning up the Master's mess?”

“So it seems.”

This story would join the pile of useless anecdotes.

“It highlights a particular point that has been nagging me,” said Quinlan. “The book is supposed to be a translation from Sumerian, from tablets found in Mesopotamia in the 16th century.”

“Yeah...unless whoever made the tablets was a time traveler, there is a problem there.”

“The author added much more than what the original texts contained. However, if I learned anything from my travels is that much is lost in translation.”

“You want the tablets?”

“I do. A primary source of information is always most valuable.”

“Where are they?”

“Destroyed by a French king when the author showed him those heretic writings.”

Lexi scowled. What was the point then?

“The Occido Lumen was also ordered destroyed,” he said and had a small grin. “One can surmise that whoever saved the book might also have saved the tablets.”

He seemed so convinced, she could not tarnish his excitement with her pessimism. Lexi could not afford to base her hopes on mere speculations.

“Where would we even begin to start looking for those things?”

“Where they should have been destroyed. In Paris.”

Her stomach dropped a little. She had not been back in that city since she had been human.

“Professor Morecci's connections could open doors in that milieu,” he said, finished his glass of blood and picked up the phone from the wall.

Lexi glanced at the time. It would be ten in the evening where she lived. Calling at this time might seem a little rude. But Morecci picked up after only two rings.

“Mr. Quinlan? How unexpected!”

This was followed by small talk that Quinlan generously indulged. Then he cut to the chase.

“I need help tracking a Mesopotamian tablet. It surfaced around 1667 in Paris and ordered destroyed.”

“That’s vague.”

“It might have last belonged to Madame de Montespan.”

“Now that’s better.”

“I’m sorry to say this but it is a matter of great urgency.”

“We are historians, for us there is no such thing as urgency.”

“Ciara, please.”

“Do you remember what we discussed last year?”

Quinlan rolled his eyes. This strange behavior would have amused Lexi in less problematic circumstances.

“Fine. I’ll do it. You drive a hard bargain.”

“Not really, you’re just unusually stubborn about very small things.”

“When would that be then?”

“I will let you know. Maybe Reykjavik.”

Quinlan sighed, wished her a good evening then hung up.

“What was that about?” asked Lexi as soon as he put the phone down.

“The professor has attempted to obtain my services as a speaker for those gatherings with her colleagues.”

“A conference, you mean? Why did you say no?”

“I am not a zoo animal.”

“They would come to hear you speak not to throw peanuts at you.”

Quinlan grunted and this time she could not help but laugh. It also dulled the emptiness.

***

The next day, they received a call from the curator of the Louvre Museum informing them they were welcome to examine their collection of Mesopotamian tablets. It was fortunate, since they were about to embark a plane bound for Paris. Quinlan had not considered the possibility of a refusal.

Inquisitive eyes followed them everywhere from the moment they entered the airport, until they sat in their first class chairs. They were blessed with a professional flight attendant who did not even flinch at their appearance. The other passengers ogled and whispered.

“Beverages?” she asked and leaned forward.

“No, thank you,” said Lexi.

Quinlan shook his head and the attendant walked on.

“You usually have a coffee at this point,” he remarked.

“I don't feel like it today.”

Several hours into the flight, two boys seating ahead of them still observed. Their heads poked from the sides of their seats and fascinated eyes followed Quinlan and Lexi's every move. Quinlan ignored them and focused on a troublesome passage of the Occido Lumen.

Signs of the author's madness were becoming more numerous. When he looked up, the boys still stared but much more quietly. A long and thing object protruded from the side of the seat in front of Lexi. It was an amalgam of straws, taped together into a lengthy stick. Its tip poked Lexi’s knee. She slept and didn’t notice. Quinlan sighed, and hailed the flight attendant. Intervening himself would likely involve the children screaming and crying. No need for this raucous.

The attendant confiscated the stick with stern warnings, and apologized quietly. Quinlan only wished for Lexi to rest. He hadn’t even notice when she had finally fell asleep.

Her hands twitched and her eyes moved rapidly, but he could not hear her dreams. It was tempting to lean back in his seat and let himself be submerged by their loss. Quinlan sat straighter and resumed his work. Self-pity did not solve problems.

Le Louvre had once been a royal palace built over the span of eight centuries. Quinlan had not visited Paris often across the centuries, merely a dozen times. But with each visit, he had witnessed the erection of yet another luxurious addition to the monumental palace.

Had this been travel for pleasure, Quinlan would have loved describing this remarkable endeavor to Lexi. At night, the city of light had not yet found itself. The streets were deserted, and it took lengthy negotiations for a taxi driver to take them to the museum. They stopped in front of the eastmost façade of the palace, an entrance exquisitely sculpted and divided by thirty-four columns. In the center, the large wooden doors opened and a tall black man ushered them inside.

“I am Jean-Pierre Abenon. Welcome to Paris.”

His accent was very thick. Quinlan shook his hand, much larger than his. When Lexi did the same, her tiny fingers were engulfed within his grip. When he spoke again, she had a vague smile. The historian took them to the secret and unseen parts of the buildings. There, beauty was replaced by the practical, with concrete and innumerable shelves. Under the Richelieu wing were stored the antique treasures not currently shown to the public.

“I took the liberty to start a little,” said Jean-Pierre as he rolled up his sleeves. “Here is a list of artifacts that could have belonged to Madame de Montespan.”

He gave them a binder containing a hundred pages. Each sheet represented one tablet and a summary of its history. Quinlan lifted a brow and exchanged a look with Lexi. She mouthed a quiet “wow”.

“Do you know Rabbi Avigdor Levy? He was a scholar executed by Louis XIV.”

“I’m afraid I don’t. How is he involved?”

“The tablets would have belonged to him beforehand. It doesn’t matter, your initial research is of tremendous help. Thank you.”

“Initial being the operative word. Please check what I gave you, and I will continue looking,” he said. He directed them to a desk with several uncomfortable chairs. Jean-Pierre trotted from shelf to shelf before returning to his computer. He repeated this dance over and over again with no sign of slowing. From time to time, he smiled to himself and printed another page.

Quinlan and Lexi poured over the considerable list. Those that were accompanied by a brief translation were easy to discard. None of them spoke of bloodsucking creatures. Most were bills, or simple letters. The desk was soon covered in neat piles arranged by Lexi.

“Here are the ones that are a definite no. Those are a maybe and those are really interesting.”

The first two nights they spent trimming away the tablets that were certainly useless. When they returned the third night, Jean-Pierre waved them in and positively ran toward the stairs leading to the basement. He babbled the entire way.

“I have found something that might be very useful to you! I’ve been sitting on that all day.”

“Jean-Pierre…when do you sleep?” asked Lexi.

“I had a few hours today. I don’t need much, never have. That’s why I work nights.”

“What have you found?” asked Quinlan.

“Trash. I found trash.”

“Excuse me?” said Quinlan.

Intrigued, they approached the desk on which a metallic chest rested. It was the size of a shoe box. Quinlan’s heart lept.

“Is that…?” asked Quinlan.

“It must certainly is.”

“Why did you call it trash?” asked Lexi.

“Well…”

Jean-Pierre put on gloves and carefully opened the chest. Lexi made a pathetic sound, and Quinlan wanted to scream in frustration. The chest was divided into six compartments filled with sand and loose stones. On closer inspection, letters that he now recognized as Sumerian were engraved on the largest fragments.

“Oh…I guess you wanted them intact…”

Jean-Pierre scratched the back of his head. There was a page tucked in the lid of the chest and Quinlan took it. The historian seemed to want to protest, then thought better of it. The paper stated the king had ordered the destruction of the Occido Lumen and six clay tablets.

Quinlan stared at the remnants, as though his gaze could reverse time and bring the pieces back together. He had been so convinced that the answer was there. That something in those strange etchings would bring back their home.

“That’s bad luck but you still have the seventh to work with.”

Both Dhampir turned to him as one, and Jean-Pierre startled.

“After you gave me the name of the person who possessed them before their destruction, I found proof he bought the tablets in 1606. It mentions seven tablets.”

“Where…”

Quinlan could not finish that sentence. Was it lost as well?

“The six tablets have peculiar compositions unique to the region where the clay was extracted. And there is only one other with the same composition…”

Jean-Pierre took a page still waiting in the tray of the printer.

“It’s in Cairo but it’s…weird.”

Under the picture of the tablet, there was a paragraph which included the word “gibberish”. The tablet was written in what appeared like Sumerian but besides the first line, nothing made sense.

“I don’t want to be touting my own horn but technically, I am the foremost specialist in the Sumerian language and this…”

He pointed at the page clutched in Quinlan’s hand.

“…is not it.”

“How is that possible?” asked Lexi.

“I’m not sure...Sumerian is not written like English or French, it’s closer to Japanese kanas. The symbols represent syllables. I see a pattern. It’s not random. But it doesn’t fit anything found in that region at that time, or even right now.”

His large smile was back.

“I like a challenge so…just give me time.”

“We don’t have time,” whispered Lexi.

“The tablet is 3000 years old, hardly news…” he said with a shrug.

Those historians. Quinlan closed his eyes and stopped himself from punching him. The man did not know, and he was helping.

“How long do you think this would take?” asked Quinlan.

Jean-Pierre’s gaze shifted from Lexi’s gloomy expression to Quinlan’s closed fists.

“It took decades to decipher Sumerian last time but…I have tools my predecessors didn’t have. If you hoped for an answer during your stay here huh…I’m sorry but that’s not realistic.”

***

During the flight back, Quinlan finished studying the Occido Lumen and found nothing of value. He did not tell Lexi. She rolled onto herself, staring at the carpeted floors. There was nothing else to do.

Lexi was sound asleep as Quinlan drove them to Greystone. When they arrived, she did not wake. Quinlan kissed her brow, where her stripes split toward her cheeks. Then he carried her inside and tucking her in bed. Exhausted, he hugged her, breathing in her loose hair then authorized himself to sleep.

He stood in a Parisian street, and carriages pulled by horses passed by him. When he looked down he did not wear the suit he expected but the rough cloth that had been his first garment. The sun did not burn. Another dream. Across the full street, Ancharia smiled.

“Mother?”

“One of them.”

She smiled and walked away. Quinlan’s mouth fell open and he forced himself to wake up. With a jerk, he opened his eyes and reached for Lexi’s shoulders.

He wanted to kick himself for being so unfathomably dense.

“Lexi…wake up.”

She grunted and buried her face in her pillow.

“II know what is happening. Why the Bond is gone.”

She turned to him.

“What?”

“We were wrong…we thought only three situations could cut off the Bond.”

“We know only three. What else?”

“How was I born, Lexi?”

She squinted, wiped her eyes and growled.

“I…Your mother was infected.”

“By the Master.”

“Yes? So?”

“Why would she flee? Why would she stay away from him? How did he not find her as she gave birth to me?”

“She was cut off from him,” Lexi murmured.

She shook her head.

“That can’t apply to us.”

Now Quinlan wished she would remain quiet for a moment, so he could listen.

“Quinlan? That doesn’t apply to us. We’re half-breeds. Hybrids are sterile. You never had children.”

“I never had a child with a human.”

“It doesn’t matter…the chromosomes they…they…”

Then she stuttered, unable to complete another sentence. Her heart knocked violently against her ribs.

“Lexi.”

She stopped mumbling and looked back at him. Her eyes were filling with tears. He had to control his own breathing as his heart felt too big for his chest. Quinlan pulled her close and waited until she quieted down. He had never wished for silence harder in his life.

“Lexi, listen.”

Together, they held their breath and focused. Quinlan cursed the house with its creaking bones, the wildlife scurrying about, and that damn wind.

…Oh.

Quinlan half choked. He held Lexi tighter and nuzzled her neck. She gasped because she had found it as well. It was tiny, less than a whisper, quieter than a mouse. A third heartbeat.