#i still remember when my mom and bio dad thought i was lying to them about losing my glasses when i was FUCKING 9-10. they thought i

[angered-box]

yknow realizing my family was super fucking mean to me for no reason before i turned 18

[rbfclassy]

STILL IN LOVE! #6 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

You laid on Kento’s chest, staring at the wall as his fingers traced patterns on your skin. You took a deep breath in, snuggling into him more and shut your eyes. The last few days you’ve been thinking about your argument with Toji, thinking about your kids. It always made your stomach twist in knots thinking about it because all that you could remember were the bad times. Everything good you guys had started to diminish from your memory. Even when you weren’t together, you two still couldn’t properly be there for your kids. From the first arguments to the last, you’d always remember the look on their faces when things got loud.

“Hey, you okay?” Kento asked, caressing your back. You’d think this man is psychic with the way he could tell something was always wrong with you.

“Just thinking,” you replied.

“Good things or bad things?” He questioned, looking down at you.

“About the kids, my family.” Another deep breath filled your lungs as you sat up. You couldn’t get a moments rest when it felt like your world was crumbling slowly in front of you.

“Sweetheart,” he cupped your cheek, “you’re a great mom to them. Just because you’ve had a couple bumps in the road doesn’t mean a thing,” he reassured.

“I know, but,” you looked at him, “Toji.” That name was all you had to say to Kento to make his smile drop.

“What about him?” He asked, sitting up.

“From the moment the arguments started and the divorced happened, it affected the kids so much. It still is and I’m scared it won’t change. He’s a good dad, he loves them so much, but me and him can never get level with each other,” you explained.

“Why do you think that is?” His brows knitted together. He rubbed the pad of thumb across your knuckles, an attempt to soothe you. It was a hard pill to swallow, but you knew why you and Toji could never come to a compromise. It was clear there was still something there. The feelings, the attraction. It was hard to let go of that relationship aspect and focus on the co parenting aspect.

“I’m not sure,” you responded.

“Talk to him about it, see if he knows.” He shrugged. “I know you’re probably thinking it’ll just end in another fight, but it’s worth a shot.”

You sighed, running your hands down your face. “It will end in another fight, trust me. I’ve been through enough—”

“Ah, shit.” Kento looked down at his phone.

“What?” You asked, puzzled.

“Work,” he sighed. “I gotta get going, sweetheart.” He planted a quick kiss on your cheek before getting out of bed.

“Wait, I thought you said you had a day off?” You looked up at him as he put his shirt on.

“Yeah, I know, but, it’s work. Not much I can do,” he chuckled.

“You said the same thing yesterday when it was supposed to be your day off.” Your brows furrowed.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I gotta go.” He planted another kiss on your cheek and cheek walked out the bedroom with his coat in hand. You sat there on the bed, watching him disappear. The front door open and shutting seconds after, leaving you in silence. Lying back down on the bed, you reached to the empty side. Guilt consumed you when images of Toji lying beside you flashed before your eyes instead of Kento. Quickly, you retracted your hand and turned the other way, pulling the blankets over your body.

“Mmm, daddy this ice cream is so good!” Naya licked her lips, trying to get the excess ice cream around her mouth.

“Yeah?” Toji chuckled, grabbing a napkin. “It’s my favorite.” He wiped her mouth.

“It’s my favorite too! Can I have more please?” She smiled up at him, a smile he could never say no to.

“Of course, baby girl.” He gave her another spoonful, watching her eyes light up when she got a fudge brownie piece. “How’s your ice cream, Megs?” Toji asked.

“Pretty good. Should’ve gotten gummy bears.” He slightly frowned, stabbing at contents in the cup.

Toji decided it would be nice to take the kids out for a while after what happened. The last few days everyone was in a bad mood, grouchy and exhausted. He hoped getting ice cream would help bring out their smiles again, even if it was winter time. He was trying his hardest to keep it together for his kids, for you as well. He thinks about you more than he likes to admit. How could he not when two of your kids are sitting in front of him? He can’t explain why he still feels the way he does about you, but he knows it’s genuine. But he’s also aware he deserves to see you happy with someone that isn’t him. He let your marriage fall apart, risking everything he’s ever cared about.

Toji also hates to admit that he thinks about your new boyfriend a lot too. He doesn’t know the guys name or what he even looks like, but he knows you wouldn’t just go for anyone. Late at night he stays up and thinks about all the things you’re doing with your new boyfriend that you did with him and jealously building up in his heart. He thinks about the way he used to make you smile and laugh and wonders if your new boyfriend is doing the same. He thinks about if he’s holding you at night, touching you, kissing you. Toji thinks about a lot of things, but the main thing that sits at the back of his mind is does he know where your heart truly lies?

That night, Toji saw it in your eyes. You almost gave into him like you did many times before. He knows it’s wrong, but he wants you back so badly. He craves you so badly. He knows you like the back of his hand, and he knows that you think about him too. Whether that be in love or hate, he knows he’s still on your mind. It’s wrong for him to want you to himself, to want all of your attention after he’s tried to rid himself of it so many times by trying to find you in other women. He was wrong to think anyone could replace you.

He doesn’t care about the arguments, about the fights, you’ll both work on that. You could scream at him, hit him, call him names, and though it would hurt, he’d still love you as much as he did before. You were his woman.

“Dad, can we get mom some ice cream before you bring us back?” Megumi asked.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” He pulled the money out of his pocket, handing it to him.

“I know her favorite! I wanna buy it!” Naya tried reaching for the money.

“You’re too little, Ny-ny!” Megumi walked away towards the front counter.

“Mmmm, so mean,” she whined, folding her arms across her chest.

“It’s okay, peanut, next time you can get mommy something else.” He pinched her cheek. “Now wipe that look off your face,” he laughed.

“Mommy, mommy!” You heard Naya’s voice as you unlocked the door. She stood there with a big grin, staring up at you. You bent kneeled to her height and she jumped in your arms. “Hi!”

“Hi, baby. Have fun?” You asked, standing up straight with her on your hip.

“I did, we got ice cream and I tried daddy’s favorite and now it’s my favorite!” She nodded.

“Oh, really?” You quirked a brow. “I thought your favorite was cookies and cream?”

“Not anymore.” She shook her head. “Now it’s chocolate fudge brownie.”

“Chocolate fudge brownie, wow, you are advancing your tastebuds, baby girl,” you chuckled, earning a giggle from her. “Go put your things away, okay?” You put her down as Megumi came walking up from the car, Toji behind him.

“Hi, mom.” He gave you the smallest smile.

“Hi, sweety.” You kissed the top of his head. “Who’s that for?” You asked, looking at the half melted ice cream in his hand.

���For you. I asked dad if I could get you one and he gave me the money. It’s your favorite,” he answered.

“Awe, thank you!” You gave him another kiss and hug. “Put it in the freezer for later.” He walked past you and into the house. “Thanks for the ice cream.” You cleared your throat, looking at Toji.

“Yeah, no problem,” he plainly responded. “I want to apologize for the other day. I stepped out of line.”

“It’s fine.” You pulled at the hem of your shirt, playing with the fabric. That feeling began to settle in again the longer you stayed out here with him—feeling like it was only you two in the world. Each stolen glance a showcase of your nervousness. You were thinking about what Kento had said, to take a chance and speak with him about finding a leveling plane for you two. You wanted you and Toji as parents to work out so bad, you were tired of past problems getting in the way of what came first, but at the same time you were afraid that it was going to end up how it always did. Wherever his head was at in this dynamic was different from where yours was. “Do you think we can talk?”

“About?” He stuffed his hands in his sweater pocket, cheeks red from the cold air.

“The kids. About us as parents. I want us to find a level playing field,” you explained.

“Only if we don’t have to do it in this cold,” he chuckled.

“Right,” you laughed along with him, “sorry, come in.” You walked back into the house with him following behind you. He shut the door, removing his coat. It felt like forever ago since the last time Toji was inside your house. “I’m just gonna get the kids ready for bed and then we can talk, okay?” You stood there only a few feet from him.

“Take your time, mama.” The nickname slipped out, another habit he was trying to break, but you didn’t seem to mind. He watched you walk away down the hall. Everything inside of him was screaming not to fuck it up this time, not to say something that would cause a war. It was about your kids, about you guys as parents, a conversation that was long overdue. Hopefully, it’ll show improvement in rebuilding your family.

series masterlist

tag list (comment to be added):

@sweetpo1son @lovebittenbyevans @ryumurin @he4rts444mi @cherrypieyourface @lemonintrovert01 @ladysi0 @avanly @chilichopsticks @tananaxx @akusrider @irlbungee @my-anime-garden @hnm-mika @antiholdinghandsclub @yharnam-prophet @crankyarchives @nnnancyr @kenqki @ebiharachan @dollcest @whoreforjjkmen @yoyio90 @jaegergirl @r0seandth0rns @blankwashed @ittomain1 @3rdmonday @5seos @weird0o0 @1-800-choke-that-ho @s-j320 @viisgrave @mayajadewrites @jhiyoon @fisherman-boat

[ng-scanlations]

Bloody Roar 2 V-Jump book bio: Shina

Two souls intertwining

“Hey, hey, dad. Um… y’know, I…. have something to ask you.” “What is it Jeanne?” “Well, my real dad and mom are in heaven right?” “Ah, yes that’s right. What’s the matter? Have you been feeling lonely?” “Mm mmh, I’m fine! Cause I’ve got you dad. Err… anyway, that’s not what I was talking about. What I mean to ask is… dad, I was wondering how you found me. Yeah, that’s it.” “You mean the first time you and I met each other? How terrible, have you really forgotten?” “-I didn’t forget! But… y’know, … uhhh…. yeah ok, sorry…” “No need to apologize. You were so little back then; it can’t be helped that you don’t remember. Besides, your question isn’t entirely accurate. It wasn’t that I found you, it was more like you found me.” “Eh?! That can’t be true! I mean, I was super tiny then right? I couldn’t’ve done something like that! Dad, you gotta be lying.” “I wouldn’t lie to you. Without your parents around, you were left in the care of the church. You really don’t remember do you?” “Hmm��. uhh….” “You were quite the rascal you know. You didn’t pray, you ate your food with your hands, you rode the next door neighbor’s dog like a horse and pulled on its fur. You also didn’t listen to the priest and sisters at all, and when they tried to punish you after having been so exasperated, you’d kick up a huge fuss gnashing your teeth and scratching at them….. Well, I wonder if you still have those bad behaviors even now.” “N-no way! …. So, dad, you didn’t like me then…”

“There was nothing to like or dislike. Like I said, you were the one who found me. I just happened to be visiting the church that day and you jumped onto me all of a sudden you know. I was surprised but the priest even more so. You, who never let anyone, not even the people you were around everyday, get close to you, had come face-to-face with me in a tight hug. The sisters hurriedly tried to pull you off, but you clung too tightly for us to be separated. ‘Let her do what she wants.’ I pleaded. I thought that eventually you would get tired and let go… I underestimated your stubbornness. Not only did you not let go after such a long time, but you also started to doze off into a sound sleep. The priest must have felt there was something going on between us; he said he wanted to consult with me regarding your future. And so, with you still biting and clinging to me, it was decided that we would leave the church together.” “…. Must’ve been annoying huh….” “Jeanne, you haven’t been listening. Not a day has gone by since that day where you have been a nuisance to me. About your parents, what we just talked about…. I’ve told you the whole truth. And do you know why? It’s because I don’t want to be the kind of father who lies and hides things from his daughter. What parent wouldn’t be happy to be hugged by their own child? Ever since that day, I have been the happiest father in the world.” “Really?” “What did I just say? I would never lie to my daughter.” “…..….. Well then…” “What is it?” “Well then, see ya next time. Oh, can I have a big hug? With you dad. Y’know, just like the first time we met!” “Hmm, what’s going on here I wonder… This young lady seems to have gained a considerable amount of weight recently for a 7-year-old, hasn’t she?” “Ooohhhh, you’re such a jerk dad!”

[millylotus]

Another Void & Gold Post!

I'm going to cure Elaine & Doug of this weird Joker bullshit if it kills me & I'm making it a whole thing about why they're so difficult to cure

---

Duke has been trying for years to both find & cure his parents, but for some reason nothing can fix them. All the other victims have made some recovery but they just wont.

His mom is doing the worst, she barely responds to outside stimuli, the only noise she makes are giggles & laughs. He can't even look her in the eyes anymore, they've gone so dull, lost that luster that Duke remembers her for.

His dad is a bit better, he reacts to more aggressive stimuli, always asking for help for his wife, begging for someone to look for his son. Asking for his sister & her family, sometimes even his long dead parents. His desperation & pain make it so hard for Duke to sit there & listen to him speak.

Duke just wants his parents back, but nothing seems to be working. He was almost going to resign himself to this being all they could be when some new information came up.

Bruce had been looking into the "why" & he stumbled upon it. There was something inherently different about Elaine's very being, she was human yes but a different kind then what would be normal on this Earth. Doug by close association with her had taken on a few of those traits.

So the theory of Elaine not being from this dimension was brought up as very feasible. There where of course some difficulties across the board.

Duke getting desperate to find some kind of information about his mother before she came to Gotham. And the only person who could have possibly known her is Gnomon, her ex [husband?] & Duke's bio dad.

So Duke's sitting in the visitation room of a meta-human prison staring down Gnomon, who looks like he doesn't give much of fuck.

---

G: So you've finally come to visit, finally come to ask about me? D: Yeah no, I just wanted to ask about mom, not exactly here for your sob story. G *sighs*: Yes of course, Elaine must have kept some things from you. Especially considering how ill equipt you where when fighting me. Did she not want to talk about her past with you, even now that you know about me? D: More like she couldn't. G *eyebrow raise* D *deep breath*: Mom & Dad have been thoroughly Jokerized for a couple years now. Everyone else has made a proper recovery but they haven't. The doctors have come to the conclusion that something is fundamentally different about mom. We think it's dimensional. And you're the only person who knew her before she showed up in Gotham, so you'd know the best. *tense silence* G *mumbling*: Well you're not wrong. G: Elaine & I aren't, under a technicality, from this world. D: So you can guess what's wrong with them? G: Not with any accuracy, not unless & I see it up close. D *groan*: You aren't even set up for parole yet, & I'm not letting you out. G: Child it was never about anyone letting me out. It was always about when you & Elaine would muster up the courage to come talk to me. I can leave whenever I want. And if what you say is true, then you're Mother & Douglas are on a bit of time crunch at the moment. *D glares at G, who is smirking* D: I don't like this. G: I'm not about to hurt you Duke, I've done all I wanted on the getting your attention front. D: How do I know you're not lying G *serious*: Elaine was my first friend & love, you are my son, and you both deeply care for Douglas. Any harm I may cause to either of you three or anyone else you care for, for that matter, would only grant me your ire. And I do not want that. D *sighs*: I'll see what I can do.

---

So science, not my strong suit, but a small passion of mine. Still not going to go in amazingly thought out depth of it

Gnomon is able to pinpoint the reason Elaine & Doug are taking so long is because the Joker venom used on them had traces of Nth metal

An off shoot of Elaine & Gnomon's previous home dimension of The Sphere/The Collective, so their immune systems where having a hard time differentiating between the invading Nth metal & Elaine's own energy

As is it has been a long while since Elaine had rejuvenated any of her powers

The simple fix was to reintroduce Elaine's energy still within The Collective

A whole adventure to The Sphere happens as a sort of Father-Son bonding trip for Gnomon & Duke. Something that I'll probably have fun hashing out later in another post. But in the end they get back, synthesis the cure & get it to Elaine & Doug!

Elaine snaps out of it first, quickly followed by Doug, a tearful reunion between child & parents ensues

Jay's there by his family, also getting hugs & tears

Bruce explains some of what's been going on

Gnomon's off in hall being a bit awkward

And that's how Elaine & Doug are healed! Hip-hip hooray :D!

[direwolfrules]

I just need to get this down somewhere. I need to vent, or to find validation, or have someone outside of all this know. I can’t afford therapy, I can’t talk to my family about this because they’re part of the problem, and I can’t talk to my friends about this because how do I tell my few irl friends this. This might be why I don’t have many irl friends, can’t exactly form personal connections if you’re worried they’ll find out this. I am drowning, and I need someone to know why.

Idk, trigger warning for abuse, suicidal thoughts, probably more stuff

First thing you need to know walking in is I’m the expendable one in my generation. I, quite simply, do not matter as much as everyone else. I’d say I’m the scapegoat but that would require them to think about me enough to blame me for the failures and flaws of others. My parents try to support me, but there’s been this thing, since I was very little, where my older brother needed them more. He had gotten diagnosed with ADHD, speech problems, and motor coordination issues before I was out of diapers. Our local public school was shit for kids with IEPs so my parents always had to fight for him.

And there was definitely some unintentional favoritism there. I don’t think my mom even realizes that I noticed this, I don’t think this was even a conscious thought in her head, but the last time I was in therapy (a half-decent BetterHelp online therapist because that’s all we could afford) my brother was in therapy with an expensive anxiety specialist that he constantly lied to and chose not to use the techniques he was given. We had to tighten our belts a bit and my mom asked me if I was done with therapy yet. I was not. I had just stopped using the thought of killing myself as a self-soothing method. I hadn’t even gotten to the whole closeted bisexual whose dad frequently makes homophobic jokes thing (I’m not out to him, but I’m scared to come out because “what if my dad doesn’t love me anymore?”). But I said I was, because my particular brand of Recession Trauma is feeling guilty for any amount of money spent on me, especially when bills need to be paid. The possibility of my brother ending his highly expensive lying sessions never came up.

And in their quest to protect my brother, I kinda fell by the wayside. Or worse, had to help bail him out of his own messes. My own ADHD was very obvious in hindsight, but since I was a girl and got good grades I was just “lazy”. Got yelled at so many times for not focusing when I simply couldn’t. My mom, she used to set up the stove timer and there was an unspecified punishment if I didn’t finish my assignment by the time the timer went off. All that did was teach me how to turn off and set the stove timer. Anyway, I remember being in third grade, and I had aced a math test on a subject that was giving me particular trouble. I was so excited, and instead of congratulating me or telling me she was proud, my mom told me to not say anything in front of my brother because he had trouble with math. That happened a lot, but the third grade incident really stands out in my memory because that’s the first time I realized that it wasn’t right. And I remember when he started college, he’d have over a week to do his homework for his biology class. Instead he usually started it 10 o’clock at night, two hours before it was due. I was expected to help him because I took AP Bio. I went to my mom once, and I said I couldn’t do it anymore, he was waiting till the last minute and I was losing sleep and time for my own assignments. I got yelled at for being selfish for a good ten minutes until she finally processed what I said beyond “I can’t keep helping him”. I didn’t get an apology, and she told my brother he had to start his assignments earlier. I was still expected to help him, though he thought I had to do the homework for him. I would give him all the information he needed to write up his response, and he wouldn’t do a thing. My mom didn’t fight me when I told her I was done this time, after I showed her the paper where I had done the punnet square for him— twice— and he still didn’t answer the question.

My brother is insanely controlling. If my mom and dad do anything, like go to their staff parties, he becomes passive aggressive. He’s written letters and e-mails to my mom’s principle and vice-principal more than once demanding she not be given procession opportunities because “she’s needed at home”. Once, my mom got called for jury duty, got selected, and my brother wrote a letter to the judge claiming she lied about not knowing anyone who was a victim of sexual assault. She was lucky the judge was so understanding when she said my brother’s got issues.

My brother likes to hit us. My parents, and me. It started as just my parents, started when he was younger and just never stopped. With me, it started when I finally got big enough to get in between him and whichever of our folks he was trying to hit. Or maybe it started when I was five, and he slammed the flip lid of the car cupholder down on my arm because he was mad at our parents but couldn’t hit them. He was eight.

Once, I tripped and landed chest first on a tree root. Couldn’t breathe deeply for a week. I mention this, because once I got in between my brother and my mother, and he kicked me hard enough that I couldn’t breathe properly for a month and a half. This was after I blocked a punch and a thrown phone aimed at my mother’s head. Before I could get back up to defend her again, he twisted her arm. That’s a favorite move of his, twisting a limb in two opposite directions. This was all because my mom asked him how he did in his elective class that semester (he failed cause he never went and only did the exams, none of the rest of the assignments).

When asked about it later, dad trying to play peacekeeper, he had the nerve to say we deserved it. Also called us miserable bitches. And spat at us, but he couldn’t aim for shit and wound up spitting on himself.

Once, when our dad asked him to please do the dishes, he worked himself into a rage and threw our disabled cat at him. He missed dad, but hit the internet router.

One time he decided he didn’t want to go to the orthodontist so he ran out of the office, waited for my mom to follow him, and charged her from halfway down the block. He knocked her down, hard.

He hits us, shoves us to the ground, throws things, kicks, attempts to break our limbs, for anything from minor inconveniences (ie. asking a 24 year old to empty his room’s trash can) to minor arguments (ie. the time my dad asked him to please get off the instagram live and go to sleep because it was 2 am and he was keeping everyone up). For the instagram live incident he slammed my dad’s arm and leg in the door of his room (separately, he did it twice in succession) and bit a chunk out of his finger. My dad has a scar from this.

There’s one incident though, that really drives home how I will never matter as much as my abuser. We were home alone, our parents having left for work and I didn’t have to leave for college for a bit. My brother was “washing” the dishes. I put washing in quotes because he wasn’t using dish soap. Wasn’t even using the sponge, just barely rinsing them and then dunking them, sometimes still covered in visible food residue, into the drying rack. I said, “Hey, (Brother’s Name), you should use dish soap, especially with the egg dried on those dishes. It’ll make your life easier”. I said it quietly and calmly, even friendly, with no condescension or anything that could be taken as such in my tone. I made sure of it. I had to stay at the kitchen counter next to him for a minute because I was looking for my ADHD meds. I could hear him working himself up, but I just kinda hoped I wasn’t actually hearing it. And then he slapped my arm.

I tried to stay calm, because he feeds off of the negative reactions he gets, he uses them to justify further slaps. I tried to keep my face and tone neutral, and I truly don’t know how well I did because I was just that scared and angry. I asked him “Why did you do that?”. He tried to slap me in the face.

I say tried because I managed to partially block it. My glasses got knocked hard against the side of my head and my right arm hurt like a mother fucker, but he didn’t get my face. If he had, I probably would have banged my head against the cabinet next to me.

He went for another slap and I shoved him back. He has over half a foot on me and a lot more muscle mass, and I have a bad shoulder, so it wasn’t very far. And here’s where things get all fuzzy, flashes of memory shit. I remember he reached out to the side for something. I don’t remember what he was reaching for, but I remember thinking that he was gonna kill me. With how our kitchen is laid out, he could have been reaching toward the knives, the pots and pans, or the half-full pot of hot coffee. I don’t remember which of these he was reaching for. I just remember he was reaching for one of them.

So, I choked him. I don’t know why that was my reaction, but it was. Maybe it was because I couldn’t actually win in a fight against him. I think I didn’t go for the eyes because he could bite me. I let go the second he stopped reaching for whatever he was reaching for, I remember that much. And I remember trying to run for my phone and the door, out of the house. He grabbed my left arm before I could leave the kitchen and started doing the twisting thing. So I choked him again. This repeated twice more. I know he kicked me at one point. Every time I disengaged I told him some variation of “go to your room, get away from me, stop hitting me”. Every time he tried to hurt me again.

Finally, he was on the floor. I think that was after he kicked me, he over balanced and slid down. He may have kicked me twice, cause I remember both my stomach and chest were bruised, but he could only have hit one at a time. He began this fake crying routine. I mean obviously fake crying, the kind that only works on our narcissist grandma and other morons. And I remember, when I wasn’t rushing to reassure him or apologize to him for defending myself, he stopped and looked at me with such hatred. It was like a scene from a fucking movie, or a novel or some bullshit. Like those scenes of serial killers where they drop their fake emotional act when they realize the cop or whoever isn’t buying it. It didn’t register as anything more than “he’s pulling his bullshit” when he did it, but looking back it gives me the fucking chills. That look fuels more of my fear of him killing me one day than his reaching toward the knives and heavy metal objects.

He lunged for me again, and I put my foot on his neck. I don’t regret it, or any of the choking. It was the only way physically I could control the fight, and I don’t think I ever aimed to kill him. I think he’d be dead if I had. I just wanted him to stop hurting me.

I don’t know what I said differently that last time I let him up. I don’t know if I did say anything differently. I just know he ran up to his room. And I know I called my mom, and I ran out of the house. I know I called my grandparents, and I waited by the curb for them to pick me up.

My uncle came, with my grandmother. They’re two little narcissist peas in a pod, with my uncle being my narc grandma’s precious little golden child. I should probably mention that my brother is also one of her golden children. He’s descended from my grandmother and has a penis, of course he’s her favorite.

I got in my uncle’s car and my hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t buckle the seatbelt. I was sobbing uncontrollably, telling them what happened. My uncle stayed outside with me to try and calm me down. My grandmother went inside to calm down my brother. I just knew, I knew when she walked into that house she’d somehow find a way to absolve my brother of any responsibility.

And she did, by making up this fiction about my dad being an abusive monster. I just stayed silent so I would be able to get away from the house, because the incidents she was recounting weren’t actually between my dad and brother but my uncle and his autistic son. I know, because they happened in front of me. The only details changed were the actual perpetrator and victim. If I said anything, I could have lost my ride away from the worse hell of the two. My grandmother tried to get me to come back inside and talk things out. I started primal fear type shrieking that I couldn’t go back in there. I couldn’t. My uncle got her to stop insisting.

Finally we left for my grandparents’ house, and I had to listen to an entire car ride of my grandmother crying over her poor little grandson. Because he was the real victim here.

My mom called me, she was on her way home, and she asked me if I wanted her to come to directly to me or if she could go to my brother first and calm him down. She started making her case for going to my brother first and I just tuned her out. I think that’s when it finally started to sink in, that I will never be the priority between the two of us. I think I told her to go to him first. She clearly wanted to. Even though I just really wanted my mom.

She finally came to see me and immediately told me how sorry my brother was. I didn’t care. He said sorry before, he never meant it. She asked me how I was, what happened. The “how are you” question was a little stupid, considering I had several ice packs on me. My brother wasn’t even bruised. Not even around his neck, which is probably the biggest evidence that I wasn’t trying to kill him.

I was in a lot of pain, and my ribs fucking hurt so bad I wasn’t breathing right, again, so I said I wanted to go to urgent care. She kept trying to convince me otherwise. And then my grandfather, who until that point had been the only adult in my family to never make me feel lesser, like I didn’t matter less, said “If you go to urgent care they’ll call the cops and your brother will get arrested”. Because that was the priority. And I just, like, shut down my emotions for a bit because I couldn’t deal with those at the moment and agreed to go home.

My mom asked me if I wanted to go to my college class, cause she could take me to the train station. She got annoyed when I said no, to which I said I didn’t think I could safely ride the train in my condition. She was still annoyed, so I told her I hadn’t had a chance to take my meds before the incident happened. She still tried to get me to go in, to which I finally said that if I go in with bruises like I had my two closest classmates were going to ask me what happened, and I might just tell them the truth. That got her to stop.

My brother, over the next several days, tried to buy my forgiveness with fucking Starbucks pink drinks. I can’t sit down with my back to the door, and I feel intense anxiety if someone stands next to or behind me when I’m sitting, but sure, fucking Starbucks means everything is okay!

I am terrified of my brother. I’m terrified he’s going to kill me one day. I’m terrified that, even in that horrible circumstance, my family will still defend him. I have nightmares about him. I also hate him. For all the bullshit he puts us all through, and all that he isn’t. We don’t have a good sibling relationship, because I spent most of my life feeling unsafe in his presence. And I can’t talk to anyone about this, because life sucks.

And he only does the physical abuse and the controlling routine to us. His girlfriend, friends, teachers, he’s perfectly charming toward them. Friendly, supportive. I don’t think anyone would believe me if I said Mister Personality was a violent abuser. And that scares me too.

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE DNI

HAVE AGE IN BIO

OTHERWISE YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

warnings: verbal/written abuse, swearing, snape, possible unhealthy coping mechanisms, friends not being able to count on friends

AN: this is going to be long. I’ll have something different and more cheerful up for tomorrow. Promise.

my hand trembled as I signed the letter. It wouldn’t be received well anyway, having an owl delivering anything never was, but it was for my sanity this year. Having one holiday where I felt at ease and at home. If it went well, if I liked how it felt, I’d keep staying. Or at least for as long as I could. five years had gone by so fast and I knew the next two would as well but by then I could join the wizarding world for good and I never had to look back. It would hurt to leave the only place I could call home but hogwarts would always be there. I was good at charms and maybe I could try to get a teaching position when I graduated. But I had two years to figure that out.

It took two days for a response. I was glad to have been a muggle born in that moment. I distinctly remember the howler that sirius black got. The way his mothers voice filled the hall. The way he couldn’t do anything to stop it. All because he had done the same thing I was doing now. And the fact my muggle parents wanted nothing to do with magic meant that if the letter got too bad I could simply stop reading and that would be that. I swallowed as sirius sat down next to me before gently putting a hand on my leg.

“that their response?” I nodded. “Want me to read it first?” I shook my head. “Want me to stay here just in case?” I nodded again. Sirius squeezed my leg and reached across the table for a cinnamon roll. “I’ll be right here then.” He started eating as I unfolded the letter. ‘Dear (Y/N),

Who the fuck do you think you are? Spending Christmas at that school instead of at home where you belong? What the hell do you think you are trying to prove? They send students home for a reason but I guess you failed at even that. Stay if you want but don’t expect there to be any gifts if you do. And don’t expect them to be here when you come back at the end of the year. If we let you back. Why we didn’t kick you out when you got that damn letter is still a mystery. If you stay the holidays, let that headmaster know you will require a new place to stay and money but you know what he’ll suggest in order to earn it. if you don’t you’re dumber than we thought and that’s saying something. And if you even think about using your magic to continue to attend that school, we will be taking it up with the proper authorities.

Remind your teachers that we need to talk to them about your poor work ethics and that they are supposed to let us know when your grades are slipping. We can only assume that being the lying bitch you are you never told them. I guess you’re magic isn’t worth anything if you can’t do something as simple as remember to ask for help. Do so or we will be paying a visit to the school to inform them ourselves. The same with the headmaster. Write back to us right away, the correct way, telling us you have done as you are told and include the information we have asked for. If not, well let’s just say you aren’t going to like the consequences. You’re lucky we haven’t pull you out of that damn school. Yet. We’ll be waiting for you at kings cross in a week. mom and dad’

It felt like my throat was closing up as I folded the letter back up. Sirius glanced at me before going back to what he deemed his breakfast.

“everything ok?“ his hand was back on my leg.

“no.” I choked out. Sirius removed his hand and waited for me to put the letter in it. He flicked it open and read it.

“oh shit.” He forgot about his breakfast As his eyes scanned over the contents of the letter. “(Y/N), I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” My shoulder shook with the effort to keep my emotions in check. Sirius slipped his arm over them as I made to get up. I looked at his Face in fear before submitting to his care. “I’m staying this year. So is remus And Peter. We’ll keep an eye on you.” I shook my head.

“and potter?” I scoffed. Sirius bit his lip. Remus had joined us as we stared each other down. I glanced at his face before shaking my head again. “Right. What protection can you offer me from your own friend Sirius? face it the only reason we get along is because magic or not some families are shit. If James had his way we wouldn’t have anything else in common. So thanks but no thanks. I’ll figure it out on my own.” I took my letter back, angry tears burning my eyes as I stood up and fled the great hall. In my mind there was only one place to go. the potions classroom. James potter wouldnt dare set foot down there unless he had to and the slytherins wouldn’t bother me if they thought that I was just trying to better myself in a class everyone had trouble with. I brushed past students heading to breakfast as I repeated the contents of the letter in my head. Tears started to spill just as I reached the dungeons. Slytherins looked at me curiously as I pushed past them before I finally found the door I was looking for. Without looking up, I reached for the handle. I jumped back when my hand brushed another.

“sorry.” We both breathed out. My eyes met with the dark brown eyes of Severus snape.

“Severus. Sorry. I… sorry.” I shook my head as I quickly wiped at some of the tears.

“(Y/N)? Are you ok?” He reached towards me gently as I kept wiping tears away. My laugh was shaky as I realized I didn’t even think of the one slytherin that wouldn’t even question why a gryffindor was practicing potions let alone why I was. Severus looked at me with a worried expression before he gently grabbed my wrist. “No you’re not. Come on. I know somewhere we can go. You have a free period right?” I nodded as he gently tugged Me along. “So do I. We can stay there until the next.“ I followed him blindly as he led me past the throngs of students, up to the third floor and down an abandoned corridor. We passed and empty wall once. Twice. Three times before a door appeared. Despite all I had just been through, my eyes widened in shock and my head whipped over to look at Severus. “Cool right?” I nodded as he pushed through the door and we entered a room that could only be described as a combination of the gruff indie and slytherin common rooms. I put my bag down by the door and Severus set his down on the other side.

“what is this place?” I asked as I looked around. The fireplace roared to life and Severus led the way over to it. Just like in the gryffindor common room, there was a cubby where we could sit and that seemed to be the plan. “It’s incredible. Does it always look like this?” I wiped my eyes again and Severus smiled at the sudden inquisitiveness that I was displaying.

“It’s called the room of requirement. It changes to whatever the person needs. Right now we need something comforting. So it created this room.“ Severus raised a brow at the red and gold decorations in the room but waved a hand at them. “You feel most comfortable in the gryffindor common room and I feel most comfortable in the slytherin common room so they combined.“ I nodded as Severus sat down next to the fire. I joined him and turned So I was staring at the fire.

“comfortable.“ I nodded. ”definitely something I need right now.“ I sighed as Severus put his hand on my shoulder, a stark contrast to Sirius with his hand on my leg. Less territorial. more careful. Less confident. More….friendly.

“do you want to talk about why you were running crying to the potions room?” My shoulders fell in despair. I half heartedly held up the folded letter that was still clasped in my hand. “This?” I nodded as I returned my focus to the fire, not wanting to see one of the few people I could call a friend finally finding out what my family was like. I mentally scoffed. As if I could actually call the marauders my friends. Severus on the other hand. Maybe I could call him my friend. Which did admittedly cause a few issues with our houses but talent recognized talent and stuck together. “What are you going to do?” His voice snapped me out of my trance. I tore my eyes away from the fire to look at him. There was genuine concern and worry in his eyes. And he was normally so good at hiding his emotions.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged before shifting in my seat. “I don’t think they really mean it. But then again sometimes,” I trailed off. Severus reached for my hand. “Sometimes they are. And i can’t tell.“ I held onto his hand like it was a lifeline. “If I stay, I have no where to go. Or I might have never come back here.” Severus squeezed my hand again. “If I go home, I might not come back. or I might not have a place to go.” Severus nodded before looking at the letter in his other hand.

“i have an idea.” He said after a pause. “What if you told them you were going to use the holidays to work on your skills? Get extra help from the professors? They couldn’t say no to that.“ I blinked at him in surprise. “And I’m sure you could get mcgonagall to fake a letter. Slughorn too. Maybe even flickwit. If not I can forge his. Then send them home say once a week or every two weeks. I’m sure we could even get dumbledore in on it if they so wished.” There was a beat of silence. I threw myself at Severus and hugged him tight, much to his surprise. His arms wrapped around to keep us upright and quickly tightened.

“Severus! That’s brilliant!” My voice was muffled by his shoulder. “I don’t know how you came up with that but it’s perfect!” Severus tightened his grip before rubbing my back. “The best part is I get to stay here and do whatever I want with them none the wiser! thank you!”

“you’re welcome.” Severus‘s quiet baritone seemed to vibrate through me. I pulled back enough to look him in the eye.

”I mean it Severus. I’m really thankful.“ he nodded before we separated and continued to enjoy the comfort of the fire.

“what are you going to do about potter?” His question cut through the comfortable silence. I made a face. “Oh come on. I know he’s as much a problem for you as he is me. Even with you hanging around with the other three.“ I rolled my eyes and nodded.

“you’re right. Even if I don’t want to admit it.“ I gently pushed his shoulder with mine. Severus smiled as I kept leaning against him. “I don’t know yet. I guess I’ll just deal with him when it comes time to.” There was a beat of silence. “you’re staying too right?” Severus nodded as he leaned his head against mine.

“yeah. Which puts me in the same spot as you.” I nodded in agreement. “Except I don’t have the other three to come pick up the pieces afterwards.”

“don’t say that. Cuz they don’t.“ I bit out harshly. “All they do is ignore what he had just done and try to make me forget that he does it.“ there was a silence that settled over us then. I took a deep breath before turning to look at him, making Severus lift his head up. “what I was going to suggest was we spend more time in here. We can work on whatever we need to and practice or just come here to read. Enjoy each other’s company as it were.“ Severus nodded. “It has the added perk of avoiding James potter as well.“

“that actually sounds lovely.” Severus agreed before looking into the fire. “Probably will be the best holidays I’ve ever had.” I nodded in agreement.

“so it’s settled. I’ll send you an owl at breakfast if we’re going to meet up and it’ll have a list of things I need to work on and any supplies we’ll need. Then we meet up in the corridor and find the room for the day.“ Severus nodded and we shook on it. I saw his watch peeking out from his shirtsleeve. “Oh shit. We have to go. Ten minutes before first period is over. We can just beat the masses back down to the dungeons in time for potions.” Severus checked his watch himself as i tossed the letter into the fire. We collected our belongings. Just before we left, I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “seriously Severus. Thank you.” I got a glimpse of his pale pink cheeks before the door appeared and we exited the room. Trying to lighten the mood, I hitched my bag up my shoulder. “Race ya to the dungeons.” I tagged his shoulder and took off down the hall. I just missed the eye roll Severus sent my way as he started down the hall, calling after me.

[mychemicalimagines]

Can’t Stop Lovin’ You-Dean Winchester-Chap 4

Summary: Dean Winchester and Michaela ‘Mickey’ Storm have been friends for as long as they can remember. When they were 4 years old, Dean’s mom and Mickey’s parents were killed. Since then, John Winchester took his kids and Mickey around the states, hunting the Supernatural. 22 years later, it’s just Dean and Mickey against the world, both the natural and the supernatural. John goes missing after a hunting trip goes awry while Sam’s away at college, set on being a lawyer. This is Dean and Mickey’s story as they embark on a trip to find the one man they know as Dad. Saving People. Hunting Things. The Family Business.

Series Warning: Language, Fluff, Love, Smut, Death, Blood, Violence, Supernatural, Paranormal, Established Relationship. If I forgot any, all the warnings from the show apply to this series as well.

Words: 15,448

A/N: I hope you guys are still enjoying this!! Another long chapter for you! please comment your thoughts! We love knowing what you think!! How’s Mickey’s relationship with the boys? You like it?:]

Divider belongs to writeyourmindaway

To be tagged: Comment, Message Me, Submit an Ask or Tag Yourself in My Bio!

Phantom Traveler

Third Person POV

A week and a half after helping the Barr family, the Winchester clan found their way to Pennsylvania after killing monsters along the way. Small cases, nothing too big for them. Well, with how long they’ve been hunting, nothing is too big at this point. The next, relatively big case for them starts early one December morning. 

Dean, Mickey and Sam were forced to share a room, not that they minded. They’re family. Plus, the happy couple already had their own room in the last motel. Mickey is laying in her shared bed on her back, softly snoring with her hair flowing around her due to her not putting it up before going to sleep. 

Her face is toward her right arm which is under her pillow, keeping her body comfy as it stretches just slightly. Her wonderful boyfriend is lying on his stomach next to her. His left knee is bent upward, mentally wanting to be close to her as they sleep as well as his left arm as it’s draped over her stomach. Her own left arm is holding onto his wrist softly, subconsciously holding him near. 

The sheets and blanket they were covered with fell down sometime throughout the night, revealing their bodies to the motel room. Usually when they have a room to themselves, they’re only in their underwear but since they’re sharing with the youngest Winchester again, they decided to cover up just a little. 

Dean’s in his normal black boxer briefs but he’s decided to keep on his black t-shirt. Mickey, not wanting Sam to see her goods, has on one of Dean’s flannels as well as a pair of shorts she was forced to buy due to a case being at a gym. They’re comfortable and aren’t too short but the eldest Winchester loves seeing them on her.

The sound of keys jingling and metal entering the lock alerts the sleeping male in the room. His eyes snap opening, looking toward his girlfriend to see her fast asleep, face turned away from him. The door opens and Dean gently removes his arm from her stomach, quickly but quietly moving to under his pillow.

A shadow is shown through the divider between the door and the bed, casting over the couple. Dean’s fingers curl around the handle of the knife he keeps hidden under every pillow he lays his head down on. As the door closes with a small slam, Mickey rolls over to her stomach, now facing away from him, almost copying his earlier position. 

After making sure his girlfriend is okay, he quickly looks over his shoulder as the shadow walks around the divider.

“Morning sunshine.” Sam says, carrying a small cardboard drink carrier and a paper bag.

Dean, still groggy from his sleep, groans and looks toward the clock on the side table, which happens to be turned away from him, his fingers uncurling from the weapon in his grasp.

“What time is it?” He looks back toward his younger brother. 

“Uh, it’s about five forty-five.” The younger Winchester says, glancing toward the window at the small light coming in. 

“In the morning?” Mickey grumbles, rubbing her face against the pillow.

“Yep.” Sam lets out a soft, amused chuckle at his brother’s girlfriend.

“Five more minutes.” She mumbles into the not so fluffy pillow.

A soft smile tugs on Dean’s lips as he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, before glancing back up at his brother. 

“Where does the day go?” 

Knowing that Dean’s not exactly expecting an actual answer to his question, Sam just smirks and shrugs. The eldest Winchester sits up slightly, propping himself up, resting his body on his right elbow, now fully looking at his younger brother, with one hand resting on Mickey’s lower back.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” He asks, voice still full of sleep.

“Yeah, I grabbed a couple of hours.” Sam shrugs, glancing at the coffees in his hand.

“Liar.” Dean says, smacking his girlfriend on the ass causing her to grunt into her pillow before he scoots his body to the end of the bed to sit. “‘Cause I was up at three and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial.”

“Hey, what can I say?” Sam says, shrugging once again as he holds up the items he bought as he ignores their actions. “It’s riveting TV.”

“When was the last time you got a good night’s sleep?” The eldest Winchester asks as he rests his elbows on his knees. 

“I don’t know, a little while, I guess. It’s not a big deal.” He says, nonchalantly. 

“Yeah, it is.” Mickey mumbles into her pillow.

Dean gestures to his girlfriend, silently agreeing with her.

“Look, I appreciate your guys’ concern…”

“Oh, I’m not concerned about you.” He cuts his brother off. “It’s your job to keep our asses alive so I need you sharp.”

Sam sighs slightly, knowing he’s completely right. Knowing she’s not going to get anymore sleep, Mickey rubs her face against her pillow before rolling to her back and sitting up. The Winchesters look at her as she rubs her eyes with the palm of her hands, resting her back against the gray headboard behind her. 

She crosses her legs after putting her pillow in her lap and looks up at her best friend.

“Are you still having nightmares about Jess?” She asks softly, aware that it’s a hard subject for him.

He lets out a small breath through his nose before walking over to the bed he was trying to sleep in before.

“Yeah.” He sits down, glancing at her as he holds out the cardboard holder, allowing her to grab her coffee. “But it’s not just her. It’s everything. I just forgot, you know? This job. Man, it gets to you.”

“You can’t let it.” Dean says, standing up to move to the side of the bed to sit in front of Mickey’s legs before grabbing his own drink. “You can’t bring it home like that.”

“So what?” Sam asks, raising an eyebrow. “All this it…never keeps you up at night?”

Dean shakes his head, sneaking a glance at Mickey. She’s the only reason he’s really able to get any actual sleep at night. Looking back at his younger brother, he shakes his head a little more.

“Never?” Sam raises his brow even more, tilting his head, and giving his brother a look of utter disbelief. “You’re never afraid?”

“No. Not really.” He confirms.

Rather than actually say anything in response, Sam just leans forward, gently putting his hand on Mickey’s shoulder, and reaches underneath Dean’s pillow. He pulls out the rather large hunting knife Dean had gone for earlier when the door opened. Continuing to stare at his brother in disbelief, the evidence clearly in his hand, the former law student shakes his head a little. 

Dean lets out a soft grunt and rolls his eyes. Quickly, but safely, snatching the knife back, he sets it to him.

“That’s not fear. That is…” He starts.

“Precaution.” Mickey speaks up.

Sam sighs. “All right. Whatever. I’m too tired to argue.” 

Before any of the three of them can say another word, Dean’s phone starts ringing. Mickey grabs it off the nightstand and opens it, handing it to her boyfriend, who doesn’t even bother to look at the number before he answers it.

“Hello?”

On the other end of the phone call, in his office, an older man speaks up.

“Dean? It’s uh Jerry Panowski. You, your girl, and your dad helped me out a couple years back.” 

Dean’s eyes widen slightly as he recalls that particular hunt. “Oh, right. Yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It’s not back, is it?”

Mickey quickly looks up at him, waiting, hoping that that evil creature isn’t back. She remembers she broke a few fingers…as well as a few things that happened and she definitely doesn’t want to fight that damn thing again.

“No. No. Thank god, no.” Jerry quickly reassures the young Hunter. “But, it’s something else, and…uh, I think it could be a lot worse.”

Dean’s brows furrow. “What is it?”

“Can we talk in person?” Jerry half begs.

Mickey immediately puts her coffee on the side table after hearing the older man’s plea through the phone and turns, uncrossing her legs. The brothers glance at one another, before the eldest agrees, hanging up soon after. The female stands up and walks along the carpet to her bag, grabbing a fresh pair of pants as well as a shirt.

They watch her walk to the bathroom and look at one another again, the youngest more confused than the older. 

“She okay?” Sam asks, glancing back toward the bathroom. 

“Sammy, you woke her up at six am.” Dean says before taking a drink of his coffee. “She’s even less of a morning person than I am.”

“I know that. I’ve known that for years. But, I don’t know. It seems like it’s more than that. Her whole mood just changed when you said ‘poltergeist’. You never told me that you and dad hunted one together.”

Dean mumbles. “Nothing to tell, Sam. Just let it go.”

“How can you tell me to let it go, Dean? Something happened on that hunt, and it’s obviously messed with Mickey.”

“I said let it go, Sam. Don’t bring it up again.” 

Glancing up at the bathroom door to make sure it’s still closed, he looks back at his younger brother. 

“And don’t you dare mention it to her. You and I both know that there are certain hunts that we don’t talk about for us. And this is one of the few that Mickey doesn’t talk about. So drop it.” Dean’s tone is just barely above a soft growl.

Before Sam can respond, the bathroom door opens and Mickey walks out. She doesn’t acknowledge the guys as she makes her way back to her duffle bag, packing it up. When she’s done, she looks up at them.

“What are you waiting for? We have a case. Let’s go.”

Sam opens his mouth to speak but Dean sends him a slight glare, forcing him to shut it before they both stand up. Sam tries to hide his eye rolling as he walks over to his own bag, picking it up and taking it into the bathroom. The eldest walks over to the love of his life and wraps his arms around her, kissing her nose. 

All the tension she was holding immediately falls away as she blushes, wrapping her own arms around him.

“I see you kept my shirt on, instead of changing into one of your own. I know it makes you feel safe, baby. And you know how hot I think it is.”

Letting out a soft giggle, she drops her head against his shoulder. “Stop being a flirt, Winchester and get dressed.”

Dean laughs softly and kisses the top of her head, tightening his arms around her. 

“One thing first.” He whispers.

Lifting her head, Mickey looks up at him, quizzically. He just gives her a lazy smirk and brings his hands up, gently cupping her cheeks, rubbing the skin just under her eyes with the pads of his thumbs. Leaning down, he presses his lips against hers in a soft, sweet, loving, and reassuring kiss. One that he smiles into as he feels her return it.

“I love you, Mick, and I’ll always protect you. This is going to be different this time. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” He whispers, his lips just barely touching hers after he pulls from the kiss slightly, resting his forehead against hers.

“But…last time…”

“Shhh, baby.” He gently quiets her fear. “This isn’t like last time. I was stupid. I was a jerk and I said things I’ll spend the rest of my life - however long it may be - kicking myself in the ass for. I almost lost you for good, and I’m never letting that happen again. You’re stuck with me.”

Mickey’s arms tighten around his waist and she nods softly, looking down a little. Dean, keeping his palms against her cheeks, softly nudges her, getting her to look back up at him. He places a long, soft kiss to forehead.

“I’ve got you, baby.”

Hearing the bathroom door click as it starts to open, they step back, away from each other. Neither of them wants Sam to see them like this, this vulnerable. Dean lets out a quiet cough and picks up his bag as Sam walks out of the bathroom. Mickey grabs the keys to their beloved Impala and her bag.

“You boys better hurry. I’ll be in the car.” She says, sending a playful look toward her favorite males before walking toward the door.

Dean bites his lip softly, watching her walk away, never breaking his eye contact with her ass until she walks around the divider. He glances up at his brother who raises an eyebrow as he shakes his head slightly.

“Dude, you’ve been together for ten years. Don’t you ever stop?”

“Stop what?” The eldest brother smirks, walking to the bathroom.

Sam sighs to himself, wondering how in the world his female best friend is still with him. Not even 15 minutes later, Mickey looks up from her spot in the front seat as Dean slides in behind the wheel and Sam fits his tall, lanky ass into the backseat after slamming the trunk shut with their few belongings in the world back there.

As soon as the engine of the beautiful, classic American muscle car turns over, and Dean backs up out of the parking spot, Mickey scoots closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder as she looks over the map, figuring out the best route to get to where they need to go. Sam just sits in the backseat, a little unsure of what to do since he doesn’t have any research or knowledge about what kind of case they could possibly be walking into.

It doesn’t take them too long to get to the other side of Pennsylvania, especially with the female running the map. Dean gives Jerry a quick call, informing him of their arrival. He meets them outside before escorting them into the hangar of the airport.

“Thanks for making the trip so quick.” Jerry says, glancing up at Sam, as he walks with the tallest member of the group. “I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean, Mickey, and your dad really helped me out.”

Sam nods, trying to stick to being professional and not wanting to talk about his dad. “Yeah. He told me. It was a poltergeist?”

“Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie.” A man says, walking near their small group.

“Hey, nobody’s talking to you. Keep walking.” Jerry glares at him before glancing back at the youngest Winchester as he lowers his voice. “Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something…” He glances at the couple behind him. “If it wasn’t for you two and your dad, I probably wouldn’t be alive.”

Dean immediately grabs Mickey’s hand, making sure to squeeze it softly, not wanting her to get upset again. She squeezes back, forcing her feelings down to her stomach as her and Dean both smirk at Sam, following Jerry’s words. The younger Winchester discreetly rolls his eyes at the couple, knowing their being cocky.

He’s still curious about what happened. By the way Dean was talking earlier and the way Jerry is telling the story, the timeline isn’t adding up much. 

“Your dad said you were off at college, is that right?” The older man asks, glancing back at him.

“Yeah, I was.” He answers, putting his hands in his pockets, not wanting to reveal what actually happened. “I’m…taking some time off.”

“Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.”

Dean gives Sam a knowing, sort of ‘I told you so’ kind of look as the younger man looks a little baffled, although he does his best to hide it. 

“He did?” 

“Yeah, you bet he did.” Jerry says, smiling softly, before glancing over at Dean and Mickey. “Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn’t. How’s he doing, anyway?”

Dean glances down at his girlfriend, not really knowing what to say.

“He’s uh…” Mickey starts, glancing up.

“Wrapped up in a job right now.” He finishes.

“Well, we’re missing the old man, but we get Sam.” Jerry says, turning around to walk backward as he gestures to the taller Winchester. “Even trade, huh?”

Dean chuckles softly, smirking at his brother. 

“No, not by a long shot.” Sam says, smiling softly at his words.

Jerry turns back around and points to his office. “I got something I want you guys to hear…”

They enter the room, the older man quickly walking to his desk to sit down. Dean grabs a chair from a nearby table and pulls it over, allowing his girlfriend to sit between him and his brother. Sam rests his elbows on the arms of the chairs, holding his right fist with his left hand. Mickey crosses her legs, her right ankle relaxing against her left knee. 

Dean eases into his seat, leaning back as Jerry grabs a CD from a drawer in his desk.

“I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley.” He says, opening the disc drive and placing the CD inside. “Normally I wouldn’t have access to this. It’s the cockpit voice recorder for the United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.”

Almost immediately static is heard through his computer speakers as well as a loud blaring alarm. 

“Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485 - immediate instruction help! United Britannia 2485, I copy your message - May be experiencing some mechanical failure…”

Straightaway the voices and airplane noises cut out and a loud moaning is heard, almost like a cougar roaring. The Winchester glances at one another as Mickey tilts her head, wondering what that sound could be when static is heard again before the audio completely cuts out.  

“Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they’re saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why.” He sighs, looking down at his desk for a second. “Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He’s a good friend of mine. Chuck is…uh…well, he’s pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.”

“You don’t think it was?” Sam speaks up.

“No, I don’t.” He shakes his head. 

“Jerry, we’re gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors.” Mickey says, counting on her fingers. 

“And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?” Dean speaks up, cutting her off as he rests his arm on the back of his girlfriend’s chair.

“The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage…guys, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I’ve got that kind of clearance.”

The oldest Winchester frowns slightly before nodding. “No problem.”

A few hours later, Sam and Mickey are leaning against the passenger side of the Impala, talking away outside a Copy Jack store, waiting for the eldest Winchester to finish his current job. Sam furrows his brow as he debates on whether or not to ask Mickey if she’s alright, or what exactly went down the last time they were in this town. 

Just as he’s about to, after having  finally exhausted all his mental debating with himself, he doesn’t get the chance. When the door opens, they look up just as Dean steps out, a large smile on his face. A woman that was walking past the window of the store, almost runs into him. He glances down to make sure the door doesn’t hit her as he lets go, allowing her to walk in.

“Hey.” She grins, giving him her best flirty smile.

“Hi.” He nods, looking back up toward his brother and girlfriend as he begins to walk again.

“You’ve been in there forever.” Sam complains, holding his arms out.

Dean holds up three ID cards, fanning them out slightly. 

“You can’t rush perfection.” He says before holding out the top card to his brother.

“Homeland Security?” He asks, taking his own card as Dean grins. “That’s pretty illegal, even for us.”

Mickey takes her card from her boyfriend as she speaks. “It’s something new!”

“Exactly!” Dean says, opening the back door for her. “People haven’t seen it a thousand times.”

Sam shakes his head and gets into the passenger seat. Mickey gets into the back seat and Dean closes the door behind her before walking around the trunk of the car to get into the driver's seat. When he gets comfortable, he looks toward his younger brother who has his laptop between them.

“Alright, so what did you guys get?” He asks.

“Well, there’s definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder.” He answers, bringing up the recording he and Mickey were working on earlier.

“Yeah?”

“Listen.” He says, pressing the spacebar.

The recording plays but instead of the pilot speaking, he hears a deep rumbling noise before a scratch voice is heard.

“No survivors!”

Dean raises an eyebrow, staring at the laptop, turning slightly to the side. 

“‘No survivors’? What’s that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.”

“We have no idea.” Mickey says, leaning on the seat in front of her.

“So, what are you guys thinking? A haunted flight?” He glances at her.

“There’s a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers.” Sam begins.

“Mhmm.” Dean nods, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.

“Remember flight 401?” His girlfriend asks, glancing between them.

“Right.” He nods again. “The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights.”

Mickey softly mutters. “And people wonder why I don’t like to fly.”

Sam, not hearing her, just nods along. Dean reaches into the backseat and gently rubs his thumb over her arm. Just like her, he doesn’t like flying one bit. Afterall, there’s a reason his beloved 1967 Chevy Impala has as many miles as she does, and why he has absolutely zero frequent flier miles. Sam, staying focused on the case at hand, just keeps on trucking with possibilities of what they could be dealing with.

“Maybe we got a similar deal.” He suggests.

“All right.” Dean nods. “So, survivors…which one do you want to talk to first?”

Sam gently grabs the pieces of paper from Mickey as she holds them out and takes a look at the list of passengers that survived. “Third on the list, Max Jaffey.”

“Why him?” Mickey looks up, wondering why Sam might not want to talk to either the first or second person on that list.

“Well,” Sam glances up. “For one, he’s from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did.”

Dean raises a brow. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, I spoke to his mother.”

Mickey looks just as confused as her boyfriend does as Sam’s words. What on Earth could having talked to Max’s mom triggered inside Sam’s brain to make him think, no, be so confident that Max has to have seen something weird. 

“And she told me where to find him.” He finishes, glancing up at his brother. 

Rather than asking where they can find this survivor, Mickey sneaks a quick kiss to the back of Dean’s hand before he moves it back to the front and places it on the steering wheel. She leans back against the seat and looks out the window as Dean starts to drive, following Sam’s directions. During the drive, she does her best not to focus on the events that happened last time she was in this town, but rather tries her best to keep her mind on the case.

It doesn’t take long for Dean to reach the destination that is Max Jaffey’s residence. As he parks the Impala in front of the gate to a rather large building, Mickey looks up at the giant sign outside her car window. Her eyes widen a little and her brow furrows as she reads ‘Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital’.

So, this is why Sam was so confident in believing that Mr. Jaffey had to have seen something weird. Otherwise, there would be no reason for him to be in a psychiatric hospital. Knowing all too well that if she or Dean were to ever describe some of the supernatural things they’ve experienced on their hunts, that they too would be locked up in a place like this, never to breathe a breath of fresh air again for the rest of their lives.

Not because it didn’t happen, or because they’re making it up, but rather because she knows that the average person, a civilian, would never believe them. That they would rather deem Mickey, Dean, and any other hunter or survivor of a supernatural event as crazy than open their minds to a possibility of something more being out there. 

Taking in a deep gulp of air and letting out a quiet, shaky breath, Mickey gives herself a moment to get herself together before getting out of the backseat of the Impala. She runs her hands down the front of her shirt, smoothing out any wrinkles before reaching back inside the car and grabbing a few things that she also has on her when she’s about to interview a victim in any one of their cases.

After getting the clearance they needed from their brand new IDs to speak to the man, Mickey, Sam and Dean all walk with Max across the gardens of the hospital. The survivor had gotten hurt during the crash and is now walking with a cane. The female of the group has her usual notepad, ready to write down any information she may catch during their conversation.

“I don’t understand.” Max says, glancing to his right at her. “I already spoke with Homeland Security.” 

“Right.” Dean speaks up, causing the younger male to look at him. “Some new information has come up. So if you could just answer a couple questions.”

He nods slightly, limping across the grass. 

“Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything…unusual?” Sam speaks up, putting his hands in his jean pockets. 

“Like what?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Strange lights, weird noises, maybe.” Mickey lists. “Voice.”

Max tenses slightly, before shaking his head. “No, nothing.”

The group stop at an empty table, Dean making sure to pull out Mickey’s chair for her before taking his own next to the young man.

“Mr. Joffey” He begins but Max cuts him off.

“Jaffey.” He corrects him.

“Jaffey.” Dean nods, rectifying himself. “You checked yourself in here, right?”

The young man nods, still not understanding why they’re here.

“Can I ask why?”

“I was a little stressed.” He says, attitude lacing his voice. “I survived a plane crash.”

“Uh huh. And that’s what terrified you?” Dean asks, raising an eyebrow. “That’s what you were afraid of?”

“I…I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Knowing they’re not going to get anywhere with being nice, Dean presses even more.

“See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what.” He gestures to his brother and his girlfriend.

“No. No, I was…delusional. Seeing things.” Max answers, shaking his head slightly.

The older Winchester scoffs softly before glancing up at his family.

“He was seeing things.” He looks past his girlfriend to roll his eyes.

“It’s okay.” Mickey speaks up, softening her voice as she lays down her pen. “Just tell us what you thought you saw, please.”

Max sighs and rubs his forehead. “There was…this…man. And, he had these…eyes. These, uh, black eyes. And I saw him…or I thought I saw him…”

He pauses for a moment causing Dean to speak.

“What?”

“He opened the emergency exit. But that’s…” He looks at Mickey. “That’s impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There’s something like two tons of pressure on that door.”

“Yeah.” Dean nods, glancing at his brother.

“This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly?” Sam asks, looking back at the young man.

“It would look like something like a mirage?” Mickey asks, grabbing her pen again to write down her notes.

“What are you, nuts?” Max asks, glancing between the two. 

Her eyebrow furrows as the younger Winchester tilts his head. They’re not the ones in the hospital, even though they should be from the shit they’ve seen. And it’s clear that based on that one question from Sam and Max’s response that he clearly thinks they do too, despite him being the patient. Not them.

“He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me.” He says, finally giving them some kind of answer. 

Dean and Mickey’s eyes meet, confusion written all over their faces when they look toward Sam, who is equally confused. There is no way that a normal human could physically open the door on an airplane in the middle of a flight.

After looking at the list of passengers, they found exactly who was sitting in front of Max Jaffey. Dean pulls his car up to a normal looking house with large bushes covering the front yard.

“George Phelps, seat 20C.” Mickey says, looking away from the pieces of paper she printed out.

The three Winchesters exit the vehicle as Dean starts speaking.

“Man, I don’t care how strong you are. Even Yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight.” He leans on the top of the car.

“Not if you’re human.” Sam says, leaning against his car door. “But maybe this guy George was something else. Some kind of creature, maybe, in human form.”

“Sammy, I don’t think that’s what a creature’s lair looks like.” Mickey says, leaning against Dean slightly, tilting her head towards the typical American dream style home before them.

After flashing their badges to Mrs. Phelps, she ushers them into the home. She brings out two chairs for the boys, allowing the female to sit on the couch with her, her notepad in hand. It’s silent for a moment when Sam notices a picture frame on the coffee table between them. Not caring if he can touch it or not, he picks it up and looks at the photo.

“This is your late husband?”

“Yes, that was my George.” She nods, sadness lacing her voice.

“And you said he was a…dentist?” Dean asks, making sure he has the right information.

“Mhm. He was headed to a convention in Denver.” She explains, looking up at them. “Do you know that he was petrified to fly?” Her voice cracks slightly as she shakes her head. “For him to go like that…”

Dean and Mickey share an understanding look across the table. Sam doesn’t seem to notice or care, his mind solely on the case.

“How long were you married?” He asks.

“Thirteen years.” The new widow answers.

Sam nods softly. “In all that time, did you ever notice anything…” He pauses for a moment. “Strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?”

Mrs. Phelps furrows her brow, thinking. “Well, uh, he had acid reflux, if that’s what you mean.”

The Winchester brothers share a look with each other, before Dean glances at Mickey. All three of them know that acid reflux is not the type of ‘anything out of the ordinary’ thing that they’re concerned with. It’s clear to them that even if George had been some kind of supernatural being disguised as a human, then his wife of nearly a decade and a half had no idea.

Mickey nods slightly, not wanting to alarm the widow and writes it down in her notepad. After talking for a few more minutes, the Winchester trio walk out of the lovely home.

“I mean it goes without saying. It just doesn’t make any sense.” Sam glances at his brother. 

“A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified.” Dean says, stopping near the bushes of the home. “You know what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage.”

The younger Winchester nods softly, knowing he’s right. 

“Okay, but if we’re gonna go that route, we better look the part.”

Dean raises an eyebrow, wondering what his brother means.

Dean immediately regrets his decision. He and Sam walk out of a ‘MORT’S for Style’ store, dressed in fancy black suits with white button ups underneath, their normal clothes in bags. The youngest Winchester adjusts his collar as his brother tries to fix his jacket.

“Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers.” He complains.

“No, you don’t.” Sam shakes his head with a grin. “You look more like a…seventh-grader at his first dance.”

“Sam, at my first dance, I didn’t even wear this!” He sighs and looks down at his clothes again. “I hate this thing.”

“Hey, you want into that warehouse or not?”

Dean rolls his eyes and starts walking to his car when he hears heels clicking behind him. He glances over his shoulder and his eyes widen at the sight. Mickey walks toward them, wearing her own kind of ‘professional wear’ but since she is a woman, she looks a little different. She’s wearing a blueish blazer that matches her skirt to a T with her own white button-up underneath it.  

 For once, instead of her normal converse, she’s wearing thick heeled pumps, showing off her newly painted toe nails. The shoes make her slightly taller but both Winchesters are still quite a bit taller than her, especially the youngest brother.

She never wears anything like this so Dean is practically drooling. She grins at his expression as she stops before them. 

“What?” She glances down at her outfit. 

“Pinch me so I’m not dreaming.” He teases.

Mickey lets out a soft laugh as she reaches forward to pinch his arm.

“Ow!” He rubs the spot. 

Laughing, she shakes her head. “Still thinking you’re dreaming?”

“Nope!”

“Why’d you think you were dreaming?”

He just gives her a goofy grin. “Sometimes I still can’t believe that I’ve got a smoking hot babe like you as my girlfriend, so…”

Mickey laughs and shakes her head. “You’re such a dork, Dean Winchester.”

Her boyfriend just grins. “Hey! I think I’m adorable. And, I’m your adorable dork!”

Taking a step closer to him, she gently grabs the lapels of his suit jacket and whispers in his ear, agreeing with him. Dean’s hands make their way to rest on her hips and gently tugs her a little closer.

“Seriously, though, baby. You are everything for a man’s dreams. And those heels?” He smirks with a soft groan. “I got ideas for you and them.”

Sam shakes his head at the couple, mumbling how he wants his own motel room and gets into the Impala, not wanting to deal with any more of their flirting. After sharing a quick kiss full of love, Dean, once again, opens the back door for her but this time, he puts his hand out.

“Milady.” He grins.

She rolls her eyes with her own smile and takes his hand, allowing him to help her into the backseat. He closes the door behind her and bites his lip as he walks around the car. He takes a breath to hold back the thoughts he was having before getting into the driver’s seat. He starts up his precious car and pulls away from the curb, making sure to check behind him.

Dean pulls up to the storage warehouse after Sam calls Jerry, getting its exact location. Each Winchester gets out of the car, walking into the building, Mickey’s shoes clicking as she walks. The security guard looks up from his computer, unsure why the three of them are standing in front of him. The Winchester Trio pull out their badges, flashing them to the man. 

Mickey is thankful right now she remembered to remind them to switch out an old ID to the new one. The man doesn’t question them before nodding at their badges. He presses the button causing a small buzzer to go off, unlocking the door. Dean nods, gesturing to the door for Mickey to walk in front of him. She turns and proceeds toward the door, putting her badge in her pocket. The security guard leans forward in his seat slightly, watching her strut. 

He smirks, watching her ass move but jumps when a hand is slammed on the counter in front of him. He looks up to see Sam glaring down at him slightly. The guard quickly looks back down at his computer before the younger Winchester follows his brother and best friend. Dean glances back at him as they walk down the hallway.

“What was that?” He raises an eyebrow.

“He was staring at her…behind.” He says, shaking his head.

“Oh.” Dean says, nodding at his words. “It is a nice behind…but only I can look at it.”

He turns to walk back through the door but Sam puts his arm out, stopping him.

“We don’t have time for this.” He stares down at his brother.

Before the older Winchester can say anything, Mickey speaks up, already at the door they need to go through.

“Boys! You coming?”

Dean mumbles to himself before turning around and jogging toward her. She opens the door, walking through first, looking around at the wreckage before her, heels still clicking against the floor. Inside the large room is the plane, or at least, what’s left of it. The wreckage is completely taken apart and lined up on carts and shelves to match where it would’ve been in the fully intact plane.

With all the markers strategically placed next to various pieces and parts, it still looks like a crime scene. As the trio walks around the wreckage, both Dean and Mickey pull out similar devices with earbuds attached to them. The two of them put the earbuds to their respective devices in their ears.

Sam watches them, confused. “What are those?”

“It’s an EMF meter.” Dean glances up, like it should be obvious. “Reads electromagnetic frequencies.”

The younger Winchester rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is. But why does that one - no both of them - look like busted-up Walkman's?”

“Cause that’s what I made them out of.” Dean grins.

“They’re homemade.” Mickey pipes in.

Rolling his eyes again, Sam mutters something to himself. They begin to walk down a path that was made, Mickey on the left, Dean on the right. They meet in the middle when the two lovers of the group run their EMF meters over a piece of the wreckage at the same time. The piece they scan over has a thin layer of yellow dust on it, and both of their meters get an audible spike.

“Check out the emergency door handle.” The older Winchester says to Sam, putting his EMF into his pocket.

Mickey reaches forward to touch the dust but Dean gently moves her hand out of the way. 

“We don’t know what this is and I don’t want you touching it until we do.” He says, his tone soft and caring, turning back to the door. 

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, watching as he scratches at the dust. 

“There’s only one way to find out.” Sam says, pulling his knife out of his pocket. 

He flips it open and begins to scratch some of the dust into a baggie he brought in with him. After he’s finished, they walk toward the back door, hearing loud footsteps coming down the hallway. The door closes behind them and they walk along some storage containers, glancing around the corner. 

Not seeing anyone, they walk out casually, not wanting to alert anyone of their presence. An alarm starts blaring and their eyes widen. Mickey begins running in her heels toward the gated exit, the boys following close behind her. Dean takes off his jacket and tosses it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence. 

He kneels down on the ground, lacing his fingers together so his girlfriend can have a boost up. Sam, not caring about the barbed wire, uses the metal at the bottom to boost himself up. He climbs over and turns toward the gate, with his arms open. Mickey uses Dean’s shoulders as well as his laced fingers to jump up slightly, grabbing onto the top of the gate, making sure not to touch the wires.

She then grabs onto the part of the gate that her boyfriend’s jacket is laying on and swings her leg over the jacket, knowing Sam isn’t going to peek under her skirt. When she swings her other leg over, she jumps down into her best friend’s waiting arms. He gently lowers her down to the ground as Dean climbs over the fence. 

He then jumps up and grabs his jacket, smiling to himself.

“Well, these monkey suits do come in handy!” 

He then takes Mickey’s hand and runs toward his car, Sam following close behind them. They get into the car and immediately pull out of the parking lot, not wanting to get caught. When they’re back on the normal road, Sam turns around and looks at Mickey as she takes off her heels.

“I have a quick question…” He says, causing her to look up. “How the hell did you run in those?”

“They’re shoes, Sam.” She raises an eyebrow, pretending not to know what he’s talking about.

“But they’re heels. In the 22 years that I’ve known you, I’ve never once seen you in heels so how the hell do you run in them?”

Dean rolls his eyes, sighing softly. “Go ahead and tell him.”

Sam raises an eyebrow, glancing between them. Mickey drops the confusion act and giggles.

“Alright, about a year ago, Dean decided to bet me a hundred dollars that I couldn’t run faster than him. I told him I could do it even in heels because he’s slow. He didn’t believe me.” She smirks. “A few days later, dad heard about the bet and decided it was time to test the theory so the next day we went out, got me a cheap pair of heels. I tested them out, learned to walk in them before we had our race. Ten minutes later, I was a hundred dollars richer and Dean was pouting in that very driver’s seat. Dad couldn’t stop laughing his ass off, ‘cause he knew that Dean would lose.”

 Sam looks toward his older brother, a small smirk on his lips. 

“She beat you in heels?”

“Shut up, dude. She’s fast.” He smacks him in the chest slightly.

The younger Winchester laughs and shakes his head, turning back in his seat. 

“It’s a woman’s special superpower, Sammy. Never underestimate a woman in heels.” Mickey smirks, giggling.

He continues to laugh as he catches sight of his brother, mumbling to himself. Something about ‘superpower.’ and ‘cheater.’ 

“Dean, she can’t be that fast. She’s right. You’re just that slow.” 

His head snaps toward his brother, still keeping an eye on the road.

“If you think otherwise, you race with her then!” He gestures to him slightly.

“Oh, no. I’m not…”

“Oh, yes you are, Sammy.” Mickey leans forward in her seat. “If you think I’m not ‘that fast’, you have to race me then.”

“You’re fas…”

“Nope. That’s it.” Dean shakes his head. “You’re racing her when this case is over.”

“And when I win…” She says with emphasis on the I. “I get the front seat for a whole month.”

Sam sighs and shakes his head. “Fine but if I win, y’all can’t be all sickly cute and flirty for a month.”

“Deal!” Mickey says, putting her hand out for him to shake.

He nods slightly and shakes it, knowing he’s going to win the race…or at least he hopes so. He’s fairly confident in himself since he’s got the longest legs out of the three of them, so surely that’ll give him the advantage he needs to beat her in this race. Dean pulls into the hangar parking lot, putting it in park as he looks at his younger brother.

“I hope you know what you’re getting into.”

“You’re the one that is making me do this. But I’m going to win so…”

Dean chuckles and shakes his head. “I said the same thing to dad, and I lost.”

He rolls his eyes. “But I’m not you, Dean.”

Sam then gets out of the car, finishing the conversation as he unties his tie, allowing it to drape around his neck. He looks like an exhausted man getting home from the office after a long day. Mickey giggles to herself as she ties her converse, before leaning forward, over the back of the front seat.

“Just let him dream, Dean. Little Sammy will just have to realize the hard way he won’t always win.” She teases. “He may be taller and younger, but he’ll never underestimate a woman in heels again.”

“Well, darlin’, I’m putting all my money on you. I’m not making the same mistake twice.” He chuckles before leaning back to kiss her cheek as he opens his door. 

The happy couple exit the car at the same time, Mickey being back to her normal height. He wraps his arm around her waist, using his other hand to loosen his tie as they walk into the building. The trio ignores everyone as they strut through the hangar, knowing exactly where to go. Jerry sees them through his office window and opens his door, allowing them to come in.

“What did you get?” He asks.

Sam holds up the baggie, silently informing the man. Jerry takes the baggie and raises an eyebrow. 

He suddenly gets an idea and walks to the other side of his office, grabbing his microscope. He hooks it up to his computer screen and grabs a small slab. Gently pouring the dust onto it, he slides it under the lense, and takes a look at the yellow dust. Sam sits in a chair in front of the desk, watching the older man as Dean and Mickey stand beside him, the older Winchester putting his hand on his hip.

Jerry’s brow furrows as he realizes what the substance is.

“Huh.” He starts. “This stuff is covered in sulfur.”

Sam glances at him. “You’re sure?”

Jerry nods and takes a step back from the microscope. “Take a look for yourself.”

Almost as soon as he steps away, to give the guys a chance to look at the dust, a series of banging sounds from outside of his office echoes around the small room.

“You effin’ piece of crap!” A man hollers from outside.

Jerry shakes his head as he gives the trio an apologetic look.

“If you folks will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire.” 

Dean snickers a little once Jerry’s out of the room and takes a step towards the microscope, peeking at the specimen under scrutiny. Mickey glances down at the computer screen, staring at it for a moment.

“Hmm. You know, there’s not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue…”

“Demonic possession?” Sam questions, saying the first thing that comes to mind.

“It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch.” Dean offers up.

“Especially in the middle of the flight.” Mickey agrees.

Sam nods. “If the guy was possessed, it’s possible.”

“This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup.” Dean looks up at the other two. “I mean, it’s one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?”

“You ever heard of something like this before?” 

Sharing a glance with his girlfriend, Dean shakes his head. Even what they went through with the poltergeist last time they were here is nothing compared to what’s being suggested right now.

“Never.” He admits, putting his hands on his hips again.

The next afternoon, the trio of Winchesters are in full research mode. The night before, they stopped off at the library and grabbed all the books they could about demons and demonic possession. Throughout the night and most of the day, they have printed and/or ripped out photos as well as articles and taped them to the walls, hoping to get some kind of idea behind what their new case is about. 

 Mickey is lying on the couch of their new shared hotel room with her feet bent in the air, reading one of the books while Dean sits on his brother’s bed, reading off another book he put on their bed. Sam studies the computer screen in front of him, researching, and voicing some of his thoughts.

“So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right?” He glances up briefly before looking back at the screen. “I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it.”

“Yeah…” Dean starts. “But none of them describe anything like this.”

“Well, that’s not exactly true.” Mickey says, kicking her feet slightly, never looking up from her book as she turns the page. “You see, according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease.”

“And this one causes plane crashes?” He shivers a little, uncomfortable at the thought, as he stands up. “All right. So, what? We have a demon that’s evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?”

“Yeah. You know, who knows how many planes it’s brought down before this one?” Sam looks up at them.

Dean snorts and turns towards Mickey, walking over to her, and rubs one of her ankles absentmindedly as he glances at her book.

“What?” Sam says, turning towards his brother.

“I don’t know, man. This isn’t our normal gig.” Dean looks up at him. “I mean, demons, they don’t want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake.” He rubs the back of his head with his other hand. “This is big. And I wish Dad was here.”

Sam nods slightly. “Yeah, me too.”

Dean’s cell phone rings, cutting off all their thoughts. He sighs and pulls it out of his pocket, flipping it open as he continues to rub Mickey’s ankle.

“Hello?”

“Dean, it’s Jerry.” He hears.

“Oh, hey, Jerry.” He says, alerting his family of who is on the phone.

“My pilot friend…” He sighs, tearing up slightly. “Chuck Lambert is dead.”

“Wha- Jerry, I’m sorry. What happened?” 

The sound of sadness causes Mickey and Sam to look up from their respective articles, curious of what happened.

“He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago. The plane went down.”

“Where’d this happen?”

“About sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth.”

Dean snorts softly. “I’ll try to ignore the irony in that.”

“I’m sorry?” Jerry asks, confused.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, despite the other man not being able to see. “Jerry, hang in there, all right? We’ll catch up with you soon.”

With that, Dean flips his phone shut, effectively hanging up the phone call and shoves the device in his pocket. Mickey quickly sits up, watching her boyfriend. Sam raises a brow, gently closing his laptop.

“Another crash?” He asks.

“Yeah.” Dean nods. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” Mickey asks as she stands.

“Nazareth.”

All three of them shake their heads, noticing how ironic it is that that’s where the plane went down and now that they all know they’re dealing with demons.

After stopping by Nazareth and gathering more evidence with their new Homeland Security badges, they rush back to Jerry. He puts the dust they found on the steering wheel under the microscope and takes a look through the lens. He sighs and stands straight, looking up at Dean who is standing next to him. 

“Sulfur?” He asks, causing Jerry to nod. “Well, that’s great. Alright, that’s two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.”

The older Winchester turns to his brother who is sitting at Jerry’s desk, during his computer. Mickey is leaning down toward the computer, resting her arm on the back of Sam’s chair as well as the desk below her.

“With all due respect to Chuck, if that’s the case, that would be the good news.” Sam says, gesturing to Jerry.

“What’s the bad news?” Dean raises an eyebrow.

“Chuck’s plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight.” Mickey answers, biting the side of her lip. “And so did flight 2485.”

  “Forty minutes? What does that mean?” Jerry asks, confused, and looking between them.

“It’s biblical numerology.” Dean starts. “You know Noah’s ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death.”

“I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down forty minutes in.” Sam adds.

“Any survivors?” He asks, glancing down at his brother.

“No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason.” Sam shakes his head.

“On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?” She glances up at her boyfriend.

“No survivors.” Dean repeats the chilling message and thinks, sighing as realization hits him. “It’s going after all the survivors. It’s trying to finish the job.”

The trio rush out to the car, knowing exactly where their next stop is going to be. The older Winchester immediately starts driving as Mickey gives Sam one of the papers that listed the survivors. About halfway through their drive, she closes her phone and sighs as she leans her head back.

“Really?” Sam says into his own cell phone. “Well, thank you for taking our survey. And if you do plan to fly, please don’t forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks.”

He hangs up and turns in his seat to look at his best friend and brother, individually.

“Alright, that takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They’re not flying anytime soon.”

“So our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda Walker.” Mickey scoots forward in her seat to lean against the front bench, her piece of paper between the brothers. “Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight pm. It’s her first night back on the job.”

“That sounds like our luck.” Dean sighs, glancing at them before looking back out the windshield. 

“Dean, this is a four-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel.” Sam says, shaking his head. 

The older Winchester ignores him and glances back at his girlfriend. 

“Call Amanda’s cell phone again, see if we can’t head her off at the pass.”

“I already left her three voice messages.” She answers. “She must have turned her cell phone off.”

He bites his lip as his little brother speaks up again.

“God, we’re never gonna make it.”

“We’ll make it. Babe, sit back.” Dean says, glancing at the rearview mirror.

She raises an eyebrow and sits back, leaning back against the leather seats. Her boyfriend looks in his rearview again before pressing hard down on the petal, speeding down the road.

Dean, Sam and Mickey all run through the front gates of the airport, rushing straight to the Departure Board. After a second, the youngest Winchester points up at the TV above them.

“Right there. They’re boarding in thirty minutes.”

“Okay. We still have some cards to play.” Dean says, putting his hands on his hips before looking around. “We need to find a phone.”

Mickey follows behind them, watching as her boyfriend picks up the white courtesy phone. She stands beside him and leans forward so she can hear everything that is being said on the other side. He moves closer to her as he feels her hand on his lower back.

“Airport Services.” He hears.

“Hi. Gate 13.” He says, glancing around.

“Who are you calling, sir?”

“I’m trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She’s a flight attendant on flight…” He glances at his girlfriend who tells him using her fingers. “Um, flight 4-2-4.”

Not even a second later, they hear the PA announcement over the speakers. 

“Amanda Walker, Amanda Walker, you have a phone call. White courtesy phone, gate 13.”

“Come on.” Dean whispers, hoping she answers.

“This is Amanda Walker.” He hears.

He throws out a celebratory fist before speaking.

“Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital.” He starts, causing his two companions to raise an eyebrow. “We have a Karen Walker here.”

“Karen?” Amanda asks, concern clearly in her voice.

“Nothing serious. Just a minor car accident, but she was injured so..”

“Wa-wait.” She cuts him off, remembering something. “That’s impossible. I just got off the phone with her.”

“You what?” Dean says, his stomach dropping slightly.

“Five minutes ago. She’s at her house, cramming for a final.” She states. “Who is this?”

“Uh, well…There must be some mistake…”

Sam moves around Dean to try and hear what’s going on but he moves, turning more toward his girlfriend. 

“And how would you even know I was here?” She pauses. “Is this one of Vince’s friends?”

An idea pops into the older Winchester’s head before he nods slightly, knowing she can’t see him.

“Guilty as charged.”

“Wow, this is unbelievable.” She sighs.

“He’s really sorry.” He says, going with his plan, still not having any idea who Vince is.

“Well, you tell him to mind his own business and stay out of my life, okay?”

“Yes, but…he really needs to see you tonight, so…” 

“No, I’m sorry. It’s too late.”

Dean sighs to himself before looking at Mickey who puts her fists up to her eyes, pretending to be crying. The oldest Winchester immediately gets what she means and starts speaking again.

“Don’t be like that. Come on. The guy’s a mess. Really. It’s pathetic.” 

“Really?” Amanda asks, her voice saddening. 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“Look, I’ve got to go. Um…tell him to call me when I land.” She says before hanging up.

“No! Wait! Amanda! Amanda!” Dean shouts slightly, hoping she’s still on the phone but he hangs up. “Damn it! So close!”

Sam puts his hands on his hips before sighing. 

“Alright, it’s time for plan B. We’re getting on that plane.”

“What?” Mickey says, looking at her best friend.

“Woah, woah, now just hold on a second.” Dean says, his eyes widening. 

“Guys, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board and if we’re right…” Sam lowers his voice as he glances around. “That plane is gonna crash.”

“I know…”

“Okay, so we’re getting on that plane. We need to find that demon and exorcize it. I’ll get the tickets. You guys get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever will make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes.”

Dean and Mickey glance at one another before looking back at the youngest Winchester with anxiety all over their faces.

“Are you guys okay?” He asks, glancing between them.

“No. Not really.” She answers, messing with her hands, anxiously.

“We…We kinda have this problem with uh…” Dean says, gesturing to the rest of the airport.

“Flying?” Sam raises an eyebrow.

“It’s never really been an issue till now.” Mickey mumbles.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Do we look like we’re joking?” Dean says, pointing to his girlfriend who looks like she’s going to pass out. “Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam.”

“Alright, uh…” He says. “I’ll go.”

“What?” Mickey’s head snaps up.

“I’ll do this one on my own.” He shrugs.

“What are you, nuts? You said it yourself…” Dean lowers his voice. “The plane’s gonna crash.”

“Dean, we can do it together, one of you can come with me, or I can do this one by myself. I’m not seeing a fourth option here.” Sam throws his arms out slightly.

“Really?!” He sighs and looks at his girlfriend. “Come on.”

Sam turns and rushes to the ticket booth as the couple walk outside to the Impala. Dean opens the trunk as Mickey begins to pace behind him.

“Dean…” She starts. “I know we’ve done some stupid, reckless shit in the past...but honestly? This has to take the cake. Out of all the cases and hunts we’ve done, the lives we’ve led, this is the most dangerous.”

Glancing over his shoulder at her, he raises a brow, but nods softly, agreeing with her. Running a hand through her hair, messing it up slightly, Mickey lets out a deep sigh.

“Before every case, we’re always prepared that it may be the last, that anything can happen. But, it’s not something that we help speed along. If something comes up where we end up trapped or something, it’s what happens. It’s not something that we just willingly put ourselves into. We don’t willingly get on literal flying death traps knowing that it’s going to crash.”

Standing straight and turning to face her, Dean leans against the back end of the Impala. Stretching his arms out, he gently curls his fingers around her wrist during one of her passes in front of him, pausing her pacing. He gives a gentle tug and pulls her towards him before wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her close.

Even though he’s panicking on the inside, knowing that everything she’s just mentioned is absolutely true, he’s doing his best to stay calm for her. Plus, having her in his arms has always helped steady his nerves. He places a gentle kiss on her forehead before looking in her beautiful eyes, feeling his heartbeat slow down just a little.

“I know, baby. I know. And you know as well as I do that if we had any other way of getting rid of this demon before it can hurt anyone else, neither of us would be getting on that plane. But at the same time, we can’t just let Sammy go up by himself.” He reasons.

Mickey nods softly and leans against him, doing her best to try to relax in his arms. Her fingers curl into the fabric at the bottom of his t-shirt and she holds onto it tightly.

“Planes are dangerous enough as is with just people.” She whispers. “What happened four years ago is proof enough.”

Dean nods softly, holding her close. He knows exactly what she’s talking about. That day. The one day that the entire country just stopped everything and stared, watching and listening in horror. Either at the sight in front of them or the live, breaking news clips that filled every tv screen and radio in the nation. 

The day that shook even the most optimistic citizen and brought fear into the guts of the most fearless. It was the day that the promise of safety and freedom in America was destroyed. Nothing has ever been the same since. And what happened that fateful September day is one of the reasons neither Dean or Mickey feel comfortable getting onto a plane.

“And now we’re adding murderous demons to the mix.” He adds, his tone soft and serious as he speaks the rest of her unspoken thoughts from earlier.

Nodding softly against his chest, Mickey wraps her other arm around him, clinging tightly to him. Dean tightens his arms around her, holding her as close as he possibly can, and lets out a deep, shaky sigh.

“And we can’t even bring our usual weapons as protection, because of that.” He shakes his head a little.

“Not even the holy water?” She asks, glancing up at him.

“Especially not the holy water.”

Mickey thinks for a moment before her eyes widen. “If we can’t bring the holy water, maybe we can make our own?”

Tilting his head to the side, he raises a brow. “What are you thinking, babe?”

“We still have the rosary beads, right? That we got for the last time we were in this area?”

“Yeah? They’re in with the rock salt?”

“What if we say that blessing thing the pastor said when we dealt with the poltergeist? And add the beads into a cup of water that we bless? Then we can have holy water?”

Dean thinks it over for a moment before he grins from ear to ear, letting his dimples show a little. He kisses her quickly and passionately.

“You, baby, are a damn genius!” He breathes after pulling from the kiss. 

Mickey giggles with a soft blush covering her cheeks as she looks up at him. He shoots her a wink before turning back to the trunk of the Impala, looking into it before shaking his head softly and lifts the top to the hidden weapons compartment. Mickey reaches up and rubs his shoulder softly before shaking her head too. 

“I know. I don’t want to leave them behind either.” She starts.

“But we have to.” Dean finishes.

Mickey nods softly and they both suck in a deep, hesitant, shaky breath before the pair of lovers divest themselves of their weapons. Every single one of them. Making sure that each one is in its respective and proper place, Dean sighs before lowering the top to the hidden area and closes the trunk, locking it.

“I feel naked.” He mutters, glancing up at her as he shoves the keys deep into his pocket.

“Me too.” Mickey agrees with him.

A playful smirk tugs on her boyfriend’s lips as he tilts his head, watching her, giving her a onceover with his eyes, mentally undressing her. Catching his look, Mickey lets out a soft laugh and shakes her head playfully, gently smacking his chest.

“Well, seeing as I know something that will definitely calm you down, or at least keep you from panicking,” She starts, teasing him as she starts to walk away. “Just picture me naked!”

Dean, Mickey and Sam are sitting in their seats, with the eldest looking through the safety card. Mickey loops her arm under his and almost has a death grip on his forearm, which at this point he’s happily accepting. Just knowing she’s right there is helping him but he can’t help but be freaked out. He, his brother and his girlfriend could die because of this damn demon on one of the things he and she are scared of.

An airplane.

Even after their conversation at the Impala, he’s terrified. So if letting her dig her nails into his arm will calm her down, he’s allowing it. 

“Just try to relax.” Sam whispers, glancing down at Mickey.

“Just try to shut up.” Dean snaps slightly at his brother, knowing he’s feeling the exact same.

The plane begins to move and his eyes widen. He puts the safety card back into the seat slot in front of him and he leans back as far as he can go in his chair. He reaches over and grabs onto the hand Mickey’s gripping his arm with, holding tightly. She brings her left arm up and grabs onto his, now using both hands to hold onto him. 

The plane takes off and every rumble and sound gives Dean the uneasy feeling in his cut. When the airplane is in the air, the wheels begin to retract, making a loud ‘reeeee’ noise, causing the couple to look at one another. Sam smirks at them before staring straight, not wanting to be caught. Needing another way to calm down, he closes his eyes and squeezes.

After a second, he opens his eyes and begins to hum one of his favorite songs. ‘Some Kind of Monster’. Mickey, realizing what he’s doing, lays her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes tightly. Sam raises an eyebrow and leans toward them when he hears a noise.

“You’re humming Metallica?”

“Calms us down.” He says, staring forward. 

“Look, guys, I get you’re nervous, but you gotta stay focused.” He says, watching him.

Mickey nods slightly, slowly opening her eyes as Dean says ‘okay.’

“I mean, we got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down, or whoever it’s possessing anyway, and perform a full-on exorcism.” Sam continues.

“Yeah, on a crowded plane. That’s gonna be easy.” Dean says, lowering his voice to a growl without meaning to.

“Just take it one step at a time, alright? Now, who is it possessing?”

“It’s usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness.” Mickey whispers, taking her head off her boyfriend's shoulder. “You know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress.”

“Well, this is Amanda’s first flight after the crash. If I were her, I’d be pretty messed up.” He shrugs slightly.

Mickey looks to the right, seeing a flight attendant walking past, looking at all the passengers. She elbows her boyfriend slightly, causing him to look at her. He follows her eyeline to his right.  He sits up a little more, realizing what she wants. 

“Excuse me.” He speaks up, causing her to turn toward them. “Are you Amanda?”

“No, I’m not.” She fake smiles at them, wanting them to leave her alone even though they’ve been on the plane for a few minutes.

“Oh, my mistake.” He says before looking at his girlfriend and brother. 

He waits till she leaves before looking over his shoulder to see another woman in the back of the plane.

“Alright. Well, that’s got to be Amanda back there, so I’ll go talk to her and uh…I’ll get a read on her mental state.”

“What if she’s already possessed?” Sam points out.

“There’s ways to test that.” He says, letting go of Mickey’s arm. 

He leans forward and reaches into the bag he and she packed before. He pulls out a bottle of water with a generic label on it. 

“I brought Holy Water.”

“No.” Sam says, grabbing the bottle from his brother, putting it in his jacket so no one sees. “Where’d you even get that?”

Dean shrugs and mutters. “Snuck a bottle from the little gift shop after security. Mickey blessed it. It went from being regular water to holy water. Kind of like the whole Jesus turning water into wine. We just made it into demon poison.”

“I can’t believe you two.” Sam shakes his head. “I think we can go more subtle.”

“If she’s possessed, she’ll flinch at the name of God.” Mickey mumbles, looking between the Winchesters, partially glaring at Sam for dismissing her idea so quickly.

“Oh, nice.” Dean says, knowing she’s right and liking the ideas she’s had, despite her nerves being through the roof. 

He unbuckles his seatbelt as she lets go of his arm. She quickly loops her arm around Sam’s in the exact manner she did with Dean, needing some kind of stability since he’s gonna leave his seat. She accidentally digs her nails into his arm, much like she did with her boyfriend.

“Ow!” Sam whispers, looking down at her.

“Sorry.” She mumbles, loosening her grip. 

“It’s okay. Just…be careful.” He says, using his left hand to grab hers, holding to calm her down.

Dean watches the exchange, happy that his brother is helping her before standing up.

“Hey.” the youngest Winchester says, capturing his attention. “Say it in Latin.”

“I know.” He says, turning away to walk down the aisle.

“Hey!” Sam repeats, forcing him to walk back and look at him. 

“What?!”

“Uh, in Latin, it’s Cristo”

“Dude, I know! I’m not an idiot.” He snaps slightly. 

He turns around again, leaving his brother and girlfriend alone. The plane starts to shake slightly and he grabs onto a few chairs, not wanting to fall over. When the shaking stops, he hits an empty seat with his fist before walking to Amanda. Mickey looks up at Sam, a terrified look on her face.

“What was that?”

“Turbulence.” He answers, rubbing her hand slightly before turning a page in John’s journal, finding what he needs.

“Sam?” She whispers.

“Yeah?” He looks down at her.

“I want you to know that I love you and you’re my favorite little brother…” She mumbles, staring at the seat in front of her. 

“I love you too, Mick, but nothing is going to happen to you, me or Dean. We’ll exercise this demon then go get you a nice, juicy burger. How does that sound?” He asks, rubbing her hand again. 

“Extra bacon?” She looks up at him. 

“Sure.” He smiles slightly, trying to keep her mind off the plane. “But wait, how am I your favorite little brother?”

“You’re the one I grew up with so I need some kind of brother to consider having.” She answers, slowly calming down.

“What about Dean?” He smirks.

“Uhhh, no.” She smiles for the first time. “I love him way differently and have for years.”

Before Sam can answer, Dean plops down into his normal seat, quickly buckling up as he speaks.

“Well, she’s got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet.” 

He immediately grab’s Mickey’s knee, needing her comfort right now. Honestly, he’s more surprised that the survivor of an actual plane crash is as calm as she is, whereas he and Mickey are still anxious balls of nerves.

“You said Cristo?” Sam asks.

“Yeah.” He nods as his girlfriend lets go of his brother’s arm, latching on to him again. “There’s no demon in her. There’s no demon getting in her.”

“So, if it’s on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere.” Mickey says, looking around the plane slightly.

The plane begins to shake again, causing the couple to grip onto each other and the seats.

“Come on!” Dean whispers loudly. “That can’t be normal.”

“Hey, it’s just a little turbulence.” Sam says, trying to calm them down again.

“Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating us like we’re fucking four.” Dean growls, keeping his voice low.

“You need to calm down.”

“Well, I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” He tries again.

“Dude, stow the touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap, it’s not helping.” The older Winchester says, finally losing his cool.

“Listen, if you guys are panicked, you’re wide open to demonic possession so you need to calm yourselves down. Right now.” He says, sternly.

Mickey immediately takes in a death and lets it out, nice and slow. Albeit, a little shaky, but she’s trying. Dean sighs and follows her direction, knowing his brother’s right. When both of them run out of breath, Sam speaks up again.

“Good, now, when you were in the back, I found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work. The Rituale Romanum.” 

“What do we have to do?” Mickey asks, leaning toward him, never letting Dean’s arm go.

“It’s two parts.” He answers. “The first part expels the demon from the victim’s body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful.”

“More powerful? How?” Dean says, eyes widening.

“Well, it doesn’t need to possess someone anymore. It can just wreak havoc on its own.”

“Oh. And why is that a good thing?” Mickey asks, looking up at the younger male. “Wouldn’t that just make it more dangerous?”

“Well, because the second part sends the bastard back to hell once and for all.” He glances at them.

“First things first…” She starts.

“We got to find it.” Dean finishes, glancing around before reaching into his bag again.

He grabs his homemade EMF meter and puts the headphones in his ears. For the next ten minutes, he’s walking up and down the aisles of seats, hoping to get some kind of reading but all he’s receiving is odd looks. He sighs to himself before jumping when Sam claps him on the shoulder.

“Don’t do that!” He snaps slightly.

“Anything?” Sam asks, ignoring his statement.

“No, nothing. How much time we got?” He looks up.

“Fifteen minutes.” He answers, biting the inside of his lip. “Maybe we missed somebody.”

“Maybe the thing’s just not on the plane.” Dean shrugs, part of him strongly hoping that for once he might be that lucky.

“You believe that?”

“Well, I will if you will.” He answers with hope in his voice. “Wait, where’s Mickey?”

“She’s trying to memorize the Latin from dad’s journal…”

Before Sam can finish, he notices his brother’s head snapping up and the red lights glow on his EMF.

“What? What is it?” He follows his brother’s eyes.

The copilot smiles at them slightly as he exits the bathroom before opening the door into the cockpit. 

“Cristo.” Dean says, watching the man. 

The copilot slowly turns around to face them, eyes completely black. He grins slightly before walking into the cockpit, closing the door behind them. The brothers glance at one another before rushing down the aisle to their favorite female.

“Come on. We need to see Amanda.” Sam says, gently taking the book from her hands.

“Okay, but I only started reading the first part…I found the second part first.”

“That’s fine but we need to go now.” Sam says before glancing at his brother. “She’s not gonna believe this.”

“Twelve minutes, guys.” Dean reminds them.

Sighing softly, Mickey unbuckles her seatbelt for the first time, despite the indicator saying it was safe to unbuckle went off shortly after the plane left the ground. She holds her hand out to Dean who gently curls his fingers around her trembling ones. Keeping a tight grip on his hand, she steps out into the aisle, following the boys.

When they reach the back, Amanda turns around, hearing their footsteps. 

“Oh, hi.” She says, recognizing the eldest Winchester. “Flights not too bumpy for you, I hope.”

“Actually, that’s kind of what we need to talk to you about.” Dean says, taking a small breath as his brother closes the curtain behind them.

“Um, okay. What can I do for you?”

“Okay, this is gonna sound nuts but we just don’t have time for the whole ‘the truth is out there’ speech right now…” He starts but his brother cuts him off. 

“Alright, look, we know you were on flight 2485.”

The smile on Amanda’s face immediately disappears.

“Who are you guys?”

“Now, we’ve spoken to some of the other survivors.” Sam continues, ignoring her question. “We know something brought down that plane and it wasn’t a mechanical failure.”

“We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again.” Mickey speaks up, her voice slightly shaky. “Here. Now.”

“I’m sorry. I-I’m very busy. I have to go back…”

She tries to brush past the couple but Dean gently pushes her back with his hand that is not squeezing his girlfriends. 

“Woah, woah, wait a second. We’re not going to hurt you, okay? But listen to me…The pilot in 2485, Chuck Lambert. He’s dead.”

Her eyes widen before she rubs her face. 

“What? Chuck is dead?”

“He died in a plane crash.” Mickey says, biting her lip, not wanting to scare her anymore than they have.

“Now, that’s two plane crashes in two months.” Dean continues. “That doesn’t strike you as strange?”

Amanda opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

“Look, there was something wrong with 2485.” Sam says. “Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn’t, but there’s something wrong with this flight too.”

“Amanda, you have to believe us.” Dean continues.

“On…on 2485…” She starts and sighs. “There was this man. He…had these eyes…”

“Yes. That’s exactly what we're talking about.” Mickey nods at her words.

“I don’t understand, what are you asking me to do?” She glances between the trio.

“The copilot, we need you to bring him back here.” Dean answers.

“Why? What does he have to do with anything?” She asks, confused.

“Don’t have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?”

“How am I supposed to go into the cockpit and get the copilot?”

“Do whatever it takes.” Sam says, glancing at his watch. “Tell him there’s something broken back here. Whatever will get him out of that cockpit.”

“Do you know that I could lose my job if you…”

Dean cuts her off. “Well you’re gonna lose a lot more if you don’t help us out.”

Amanda hesitates but nods, realizing just what he means by saying what else she could lose. She steps around the couple before walking down the aisle. The brother’s watch through the curtain as she knocks on the cockpit door. When the copilot exits the cockpit, they close the curtain again. Sam pulls out the holy water he stole from his brother and the journal.

He hands the journal to Mickey who immediately opens up to the correct page. A second later, the copilot enters through the curtain, not seeing the Winchesters.

“What’s the problem?”

Dean immediately punches him in the face, knocking him to the floor. He rushes over and pins him down while he’s disoriented and puts duct tape over his mouth. 

“Wait! What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him.” Amanda says, stepping away from the family.

“We are gonna talk to him.” Dean says, taking the holy water from his brother as he kneels down beside him.

He pours some of it on his chest, confirming that Mickey indeed blessed it correctly because it starts to sizzle into the man's shirt, causing three holes to be burned into him.

“What’s wrong with him?” Amanda asks, slightly freaking out from watching the scene before her.

“We need you to calm down.” Mickey says, putting her hand on the woman's arm. “We need you outside the curtain.”

  She knows she’s kinda being a hypocrite right now but she doesn't want the demon to exit the man before them and move into her. 

“I don’t under…I…”

“Don’t let anybody in, okay? Can you do that, Amanda?” The female honorary Winchester asks.

She opens her mouth slightly before nodding. She exits the curtain and closes it behind her, sitting in the empty chair to the side, watching around the aisles.

“Okay, Mick, you need to start. I don’t know how much longer I can hold him!” Dean glances back at her before putting his attention on the copilot below him.

“Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite domino…”

The demon possessed man breaks free briefly and hits both males until Dean manages to subdue him again. Mickey picks up where she left off but the copilot kicks his leg out, forcing her to fall to her butt, dropping the book beside her. He then knocks Dean off of him again, before he pulls the duct tape off his mouth to grab onto Sam’s collar.

“I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming!” He growls at the younger Winchester, taunting him. “Even now, she’s burning.”

Dean recovers and hits the man as Sam glares down at him.

“Mick!”

The younger Winchester turns around and grabs the book, continuing where she left off. He finishes the first part before setting the book to the side and helps his brother pin the demonic man to the airplane floor. The demon, determined to stop their endeavors any way he can, kicks the book away, sending it skidding along the aisle, and away from the small group.

“I got him.” Sam grunts, using all of his body weight to keep the demon restrained.

Suddenly the man’s head jerks back and a black smoke exits his mouth and chest before going into the vent above their heads.

“Where’d it go?” Sam asks, glancing around.

“It’s in the plane.” Mickey answers, looking up toward the vent.

“Hurry up. We got to finish it.” Dean says, standing up.

He takes his girlfriend’s hand to help her when the plane abruptly dips and heaves violently. The couple is forced into the corner next to the emergency exit as everyone, including them, screams loudly. Dean wraps his arm around her, holding her as he grabs onto the wall. Sam whips around and notices the book is missing. 

He crawls through the curtain and spots it in the middle of the aisle but it moves under the chairs. Papers and cups are flying through the air as he crawls. He struggles to grab the book but he’s not letting anything stop him. Mickey grabs Dean’s shirt, holding on as tightly as she can, still screaming.

“Dean? I wanna go home!”

“Me too!” He screams, knowing she means the Impala, holding her as close as he possibly can before screaming again as the plane seems to dip down more.

After a second, Sam manages to grab the book. He sits up in the aisle and yells out the rest of the exorcism. As his words piece the chaotic air in the cabin of the plane, a bright electrical charge runs throughout the entire metal deathtrap they’re all in. The plane finally levels out when the last electric charge hisses off the metal.

All around them, complete strangers ask one another if they’re okay. The life threatening situation they just experienced had brought them all closer, even if they had never met each other prior to boarding the plane. Loved ones hold those dear to them close, thankful to have another minute with them.

Mickey pants slightly, still having the death grip on her boyfriend's shirt. 

“Are…Are you alright?” He asks, looking down at her, his own breath in pants.

“No…” She mumbles, finally opening her eyes again.

It takes them both a minute to calm down but they finally stand straight. He wraps his arms around her waist, escorting her to the curtain, wanting to get back to their seats. Dean peeks through first, catching sight of his brother standing up from the ground where he was kneeling. They make eye contact and the eldest of the trio shakes his head, regretting the decision to come, but he’s glad to have finished the case.

When the pilot got his clearance, he was able to turn around and go back to the airport. After everyone was escorted off, different passengers were pulled to talk to uniformed agents. Some were talking to paramedics, FBI and FAA. An FAA official was talking to the copilot that the trio was forced to manhandle but he doesn’t remember anything.

“I don’t  know. I was walking through the airport, then it all goes black. I don’t even remember getting on the plane.” He said from his temporary wheelchair.

The trio stands to the side, after already being questioned to watch Amanda talk to an agent. Mickey leans against her boyfriend, happy that it’s all over with and that they solved the case. 

“Anything else?” The FBI agent asks her, glancing down at his notepad.

The flight attendant shakes her head, “No, that’s all.”

Glancing up at the trio she smiles softly before mouthing ‘Thank you’. They nod at her, straight smiles on their faces. Dean pats his girlfriend on the hip before glancing up at his brother.

“Let’s get out of here.”

The couple turns around and starts walking to the exit but the eldest notices something’s wrong with his little brother.

“You okay?”

“Guys, it knew about Jessica.” He stops in his tracks to turn toward them.

Dean sighs softly before looking up at him.

“Sam, these things…they…they read minds. They lie alright?”

“Yeah.” He answers, biting his cheek.

“He wanted to get your mind off the case so he brought up the one thing that would hurt you.” Mickey elaborates. 

The youngest Winchester nods softly and turns around, finally walking through the door. Jerry, who heard about what happened on the radio, waves from the Impala, surprising them. As they approach, he smiles softly.

“Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do.” He says, putting his hand out for Dean to shake. “A lot of people could have been killed.”

The older Winchester shakes his hand, nodding at his words. He shakes Mickey’s hand, giving hers a little pat with his other hand, remembering what happened years ago. She leans forward and gently kisses his cheek before smiling.

“It was nice to see you, Jerry.” 

“You too, Mickey.” He smiles before turning to the youngest Winchester. “Your dad’s gonna be real proud.”

“We’ll see you around, Jerry.” Sam says, shaking the older man's hand.

Jerry smiles and turns around as the eldest Winchester escorts his girlfriend to the back seat. Just as he walks around the hood, he calls out to the older man.

“You know, Jerry.” The older man turns around as Dean leans against the top of the car. “I meant to ask you, how did you get my cell phone number, anyway? I’ve only had it for like six months.”

“Your dad gave it to me.”

Sam and Mickey’s head snap up at the sentence, wondering when the hell he got in contact with the man. 

“What?” The youngest asks.

“When did you talk to him?” Mickey asks, tilting her head slightly.

“I mean, I didn’t exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you guys a call.” He answers before waving again. “Thanks again, guys.”

He walks away and Sam turns around to look at his family, a stern look on his face. The three of them finally get into the car and Dean drives to the other side of the airport, parking near the access building where they would have to leave the parking lot. Not being able to wait any longer, the eldest Winchester sibling parks and gets out of the car. 

Sam follows his lead, opening the back door for Mickey, knowing she would want to hear as well. The male Winchesters jump up and sit on the trunk of the car, with the female leaning against her boyfriend’s chest.

“This doesn’t make any sense, man.” Sam speaks up as Dean dials their father’s phone number. “I’ve called Dad’s number like 50 times. It’s been out of service.”

When he presses the green button on his phone, it immediately goes to voicemail, showing that the Winchester has turned off his phone. Dean presses his cell phone to his ear, leaning toward his brother as the message starts. 

“This is John Winchester. I can’t be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean, 785-555-0179. If he doesn’t answer, call my daughter, Mickey, she’ll be with him. 758-555-0379. They can help you.”

Sam huffs and rolls his eyes as he shakes his head, clearly pissed off with his father once again. As usual, he’s rattled off another order, and Sam knows that neither Dean or Mickey would dare disobey it. He also knows that that’s something John freaking Winchester was definitely counting on and planning when he left that message as his voicemail. 

He expected his own kids to keep on doing what they’re done since they were young, without question, while he’s off doing God knows what in God knows where with God knows who. Sam honestly would not be surprised if his dad really was off on some drinking binge, knowing that it was not an uncommon occurrence in their childhoods.

Yanking open the passenger side door of the Impala, Sam grunts and slams it shut after getting inside. Mickey shakes her head as she looks up at Dean. 

“He’s pissed.” She mutters.

Dean nods, shaking his head as he watches Sam in the car. “He just doesn’t understand dad.”

“Neither do we, Dean, but at least there is one thing we know now, for certain.”

Dean tilts his head to the side as his eyes meet hers. Wrapping his arms around her and holding her close, he lets out a soft sigh at his brother’s reaction to John’s voicemail. 

“And what’s that?” He asks, his tone soft, frazzled, and completely exhausted.

Reaching up to gently place her palm against his cheek. “We know Dad’s alive. And we have proof that within at least the last 72 hours, he’s still alive, and still coherent enough to leave that message for others. To lead them to us. And, if he’s doing that, then we still have to hold onto what little bit of hope we have of finding him soon. It’s just another breadcrumb on the trail to getting back to him.”

[laurentspup]

Friends... Is that what we are? (Lamen AU) Part 7.5

Masterlist

Author’s note: 

Hey it’s been so long since I updated this! It still takes a lot of me to think of dialogue and edit the messages, so this isn’t new content. It is, however, what really happened in part 7 (when Damen went to Laurent’s house and read him a book, and kissed his forehead). I always thought this was better in paragraphs than soc med format, so here it is. I actually drafted this before part 7 and I finished it now! 

I hope you all enjoy this new chapter and I promise I will be back with a new update soon. I just have to get used to driving (just passed my license a month ago), college (it’s my last year), and work (first year in person). 

Okay that was a lot, now onto this chapter full of sweetness and pining.

Part 7.5

It’s past midnight, but Laurent still has a big smile on his face since his call with Damen. It has been a few hours after Damen simply talked about his day, about his brother, about the yacht his parents bought because they had too much money and nothing more to spend it on, anything he could think of. Laurent was more than happy to sit there and listen to his voice. He liked the man too much to do anything else about it.

He is currently studying for his upcoming biology exam on Tuesday. It’s not too bad of an exam, but there are endless terms, endless body functions, and he hates that all he can do is memorize everything. It’s not learning but it does result in an A. His phone buzzes beside him, and welcoming any distraction, he picks it up to see a text from Damen. He’s downstairs.

Laurent runs to his window to check if it’s true. Damen, knowing exactly what Laurent does every time he surprises Laurent with a visit, is looking up at him, waving. Damen’s at Laurent’s door. He isn’t supposed to be home yet, back in this city, but here he is, glowing under the porch light, gorgeous in his hoodie, and everything Laurent ever wanted. He’s speaking but Laurent, shaking his head with a look of disbelief, can’t hear him. 

“Wait one sec.” He whispers with a gesture and turns around to go downstairs in a hurry. Before opening the door, he fixes his hair and assumes a relaxed position, as if his heart isn’t pounding miles a minute at the prospect of Damen outside his house, at midnight. As if this doesn’t happen almost everyday.

Once he’s face to face with Damen’s kind eyes, with the smile that can only be read as extremely happy to see him, his heart hammers harder in his chest.

“What are you doing here?” Laurent breathlessly asks him with wide eyes, confusion and excitement evident on his face, try as he might to mask it.

Damen is also breathless, though Laurent can’t think of any reason why.

“I missed you.”

It’s a punch to all the right places in Laurent’s heart. It’s something he can never say to Damen out loud, but he feels it all the same, right down to his bones. It’s something he didn’t know Damen had the nerve to say out loud to him. 

“I mean-” Damen begins and Laurent’s face twitches. Damen must have caught it because he stops. “I mean yeah. I missed you so I drove back since there’s nothing to do at my parent’s anymore. And I got you this.”

Laurent doesn’t see the Target plastic bag in Damen’s hand until he lifts it. 

“It’s from my mom. She insisted I give you a home-cooked meal since she knows you’re mostly alone nowadays. She doesn’t stop hinting at my dad that she wants to go on a European tour too, see Paris- what? Why are you smiling?”

Laurent doesn’t know he’s smiling. He tries to school his expression even though it’s too late.

“Nothing. You’re here. No- it’s just- I don’t know what I’m saying. Come in.” He quickly says the sentences after the other, making Damen laugh and his cheeks flush. “Shut up.”

“I wasn’t saying anything!” Damen enters behind him, shaking with happiness. 

Laurent leads him to the kitchen, so he can put the food in the fridge. It’s too late to eat right now and he has a few more chapters to read.

Damen gives him the plastic bag and sits on the stool by the island. He stares at Laurent as he unpacks the tupperwares, then puts it in the fridge. A comfortable silence surrounds them, but Laurent is too conscious of Damen’s stare. It’s as if he can hear the dangerous somersaults Laurent’s heart was doing. 

“You still studying tonight?” 

“Yeah. Bio’s kicking my ass.”

“I’ll stay up with you. Nik’s not home yet, anyway. He visited his parents too since he was there already.”

“You don’t have to stay up.”

“No, I want-”

“But you can stay.”

“Well, I’m staying up and you can’t stop me.” Damen is right in front of Laurent's face when he turns to face him. He steps back quickly. “Cool?”

“Do whatever you want.” Laurent replies, heart in his throat, rushing to leave the kitchen and get to his room before Damen sees his face turn dangerously red. 

**

Laurent’s head is bent, back to Damen, busy reading the last chapter for his exam. Nothing is entering his brain anymore, but he has to read all of these at least two times to store it in his brain until his test. He’s been yawning since the third paragraph, and he has a massive headache which began in the previous chapter. 

It has been two hours since Laurent started studying and let Damen just be in the background. He would hear Damen’s little laughs, gasps, or groans at whatever game he was playing on his phone. He feels Damen’s gaze on his back, conscious of him being conscious of his every move. It was a normal routine for them at three am, but somehow, today, it was more. 

Laurent yawns again. This chapter about the reproductive system is very intriguing, but exasperating. He would rather do it himself than read about it. If only the man currently on his bed knew how much he has been thinking about him and this. He sighs at the idea, then hears Damen shuffle on his bed.

“I think you need to take a break.”

“Be quiet. I’m studying.”

“Take a break, Laurent. You’ve been reading nonstop for two hours. I got so bored I started counting how much you’re yawning. It's thirty-seven by the way.”

“That’s weird. Stop staring at me while I’m studying.”

“But I like looking at you all concentrated.” 

Laurent ignores him. “Just shut up. I have five more pages to go.”

Damen stands up and takes Laurent’s book. He holds it up above his head. Laurent rolls his eyes but doesn’t stand up.

“Give it back to me right now.” He crosses his arms like a stubborn child.

“Nope. You can try to grab it though.” The real stubborn child says.

“Just because you’re half a foot taller than me, doesn’t mean I can’t reach it.”

“Bet.” 

“I’m not in the mood for your games, Damen.”

“I’m not playing. Take a break.”

“Dude, I wanna sleep too. Just let me finish.”

“Dude?” Damen says, offended. Laurent ignores his tone again. He stares at Damen with eyebrows raised, trying to be intimidating, knowing well that it won’t work on Damen. “Fine. If you go to bed I’ll give it back to you. Even if you look super sleepy.”

“I’m not sleepy.” Just as Laurent finishes the last word, he yawns. 

Damen raises his eyebrows at him. “Thirty-eight.”

“Ha ha. Give me back the book.”

“When you go to bed.”

“I’m not falling for that.”

Damen falls back on Laurent’s bed. Maybe if he offered something else, Laurent might say yes. Maybe Laurent is just tired. 

“You gotta get this book one way or another.” Damen shrugs. 

Laurent stubbornly stays on his chair, staring daggers at Damen. What the hell is his problem? He didn’t ask him to stay up with him, he told him not to!

Laurent watches Damen flip through the book, knowing he hates it because he’s going to lose his spot. Still, he notices how Damen's index finger remains on the page he’s reading. It’s sweet, but Damen still sucks for making him take a break.

“Ugh.” Annoyed, Laurent stands and goes beside his bed. “I’m here. Hand it back.” 

“I have an idea.” Damen answers, not looking at him.

“Damen.” Laurent says, getting more aggravated by the second.

“Look, your eyes are so tired right now.”

“You’re not looking at me, and I can’t see my own eyes.”

Damen ignores him. “Did you even sleep last night?”

Laurent flushes when he remembers the reason why he hasn't slept well at all yet. It’s because of this annoying, clueless brute lying on his bed and he doesn’t even know! All the hours he spends pining for him, yet this is all that ever happens to them. 

“See? You haven’t.” Damen answers, interpreting Laurent’s expression as guilt and embarrassment. “Lie down right now and close your eyes.”

“Stop telling me what to do. I have to finish studying.” 

Laurent can just take the book, but he knows Damen will pull him and force him to lie down. God, if only Damen is going to do that for other reasons, he’d have done it the moment Damen told him to go to bed.

“I’ll read it to you.” 

“You’re going to what?” Laurent asks, genuinely taken aback.

“I'm gonna read to you while you rest your eyes. Saves time. You rest while you still learn. It’s a win-win.” Damen looks at him and smiles expectantly.

“That’s stupid, Damen. It’s five pages long. And it won’t go into my brain.” Laurent is exasperated. He’s losing patience. Hell, he doesn’t even know why he’s still keeping up this conversation. He could kick out Damen anytime. This is his house.

“Yes it would. You take in everything you hear fast.” Laurent opens his mouth to spit a vicious remark but Damen talks first. “Just let me help you. Please.”

Laurent closes his eyes, trying so hard, even though he doesn’t know why, to keep calm. He equally hates and loves Damen for making him take a break and for offering to read five pages of the reproductive system. He grits his teeth because he’s going to say yes, and he’s going to hear Damen talk about sex and sex parts without knowing what it will do to Laurent.

“You’re so annoying.” Laurent sits on the bed. Damen scoots to give him space with a wide smile on his face. “Why can’t I say no to you?” 

“It’s because secretly you really like me.”

He wants to strangle Damen. He wishes he could shake him and look him in the eye and scream “YES I FUCKING DO. DO YOU LIKE ME BACK, ASSHOLE?” Fuck him. It’s true. It’s so true, but Laurent is never going to admit that… first.

“Just read. Annoying prick.” He mumbles and makes himself comfortable on the bed. He makes sure there’s at least a foot gap between him and the idiot beside him.

“You can come closer. I don't bite.” Damen says, staring at Laurent with that glint in his eye, patting the space next to him.

“So fucking bossy.” Laurent says angrily and still scoots over. He’ll get over feeling Damen’s warmth and not being in his arms instead. “If I sleep, you better wake me up or I'm killing you.” 

He huffs as his head hits the soft pillow and his eyes close. It feels good. He thinks he hasn’t closed his eyes to blink in the past hours. 

“Can’t kill me if you’re sleeping.” Damen answers with confidence, settling back on the bed. Laurent feels him move until their shoulders touch, despite the purposeful one inch gap that Laurent left so this won’t happen. Now, he’s really annoyed and conflicted. But he doesn’t move away.

“Give me back the book.” 

“Kidding!”

“Just start.”

“So fucking bossy.” Damen teases. 

Laurent opens his eyes, ready to smack Damen or kick him out or maybe kiss him too, but he opens the book and starts reading loudly. “The penis is part of the male reproductive system. See Damen’s for ref-”

“I’m pretty sure it doesn't say your-” Laurent cuts him off.

“Shh, I’m reading.”

“Read properly, then. And I’m on the top of that page, first paragraph.”

Damen hushes him again. Laurent rolls his eyes but stays quiet. When Damen begins once more, he reads what Laurent told him to. Laurent feels his heart leap at that, desperate to reach out to Damen, put his head on his shoulder and listen from there. But he keeps his hands to himself. 

As Damen reads about functions of the reproductive organs, Laurent soaks in his voice and his warmth. Maybe, this isn’t such a bad idea. He can actually focus better. His eyes don’t hurt as much now, and he can picture the words that Damen reads. His deep voice compels him to listen, and it tugs at his heartstrings at the same time. He can’t even fathom how amazing it is to have Damen read a Biology book to him. 

This can’t be just a friendly gesture, Laurent’s brain nags at him. But he quickly kicks all thoughts of more because he knows Damen. Damen has probably done this with all of his friends. He’s just a nice guy who brings Laurent food and makes him take a break and reads his book for him, and Laurent just happens to like him. There’s nothing more.

He listens to Damen flip to the next page, and shuts off the part of his brain that continues to pine for the man beside him. He’ll take this right now and he’ll think about the repercussions tomorrow. Right now, he’ll let himself feel the warmth and comfort of Damen. Right now, he’ll listen to Damen’s voice, soothing him like a lullaby.

**

Laurent opens his eyes. It’s not dark, his lights are left on, and there’s an unfamiliar warmth beside him, something he’s unaccustomed to when he wakes alone. His head is on a harder surface, not on a pillow but- 

He shifts his eyes to the left and sees Damen's clothed chest. The chest his head is resting on right now. The chest his head rested on while he slept. The chest that’s steadily falling and rising. 

He slept and somehow, he ended up on Damen’s chest. He asked to be woken up if he slept, but he should have never trusted Damen. 

Damen, annoying, clueless Damen, whose clothed chest is under his head right now. 

He wants to move away, badly, but also, he can't. Because he wants to be here too, badly. 

Physically, there were no obstacles stopping Laurent from moving away. Damen’s arms aren’t even enveloping him. Somehow, he slept without touching Laurent, probably because he knows Laurent doesn’t like to be touched without permission. God, why is Damen so?

For a few moments, he imagines this is real. That Damen is his to sleep on, to cuddle with. That if Damen wakes right now, he’ll kiss Laurent sleepily, a lazy smile spreading across his face. So he stays for a few seconds, tempted to move his arm on top of Damen's torso and snuggle closer. He wants this to be what they are. But it’s not.

Before Laurent could do anything that he can’t explain to Damen without spilling his heart open, he sighs and prepares to move away. He no longer wants to hurt and delude himself further. He doesn’t want to think of this as a mistake, but it is. Damen doesn’t feel the same way he does. Damen is his best friend and he should stay that way. 

He moves back a little, but Damen shifts. He abruptly stops moving for a second to not wake him, but Damen puts his arms on top of him and brings him closer. 

“Don’t go.” A sleepy voice whispers as a kiss is pressed on Laurent’s forehead.

Laurent freezes. He must still be dreaming. There’s no way in hell or heaven that Damen just kissed him on the forehead, asleep or not. He swallows, too afraid to look up and find out if Damen did this on purpose or in his dream. In this position, Laurent’s head is even closer to Damen’s clothed chest and he can hear his steady heartbeat, can see the rise and fall of his chest, and can determine Damen isn’t awake at all. 

Laurent is going crazy. That’s it. He needs to leave, right now, but he can't move anymore. What the fuck is Damen doing to him? What the fuck is he dreaming about? Why can’t he just tell Laurent now that he likes him too, that nothing is ever simply friendly between them?

Once more, he tries to leave the embrace but Damen hugs him tighter. 

“Don’t go.” Damen whispers again. “Laurent, I love you.”

Laurent cannot move, cannot breathe, cannot close his eyes. He’s sure now. He’s the one dreaming.  

[terrortalesv]

Starting a family

@tr85n asked for prompt #99 from that list, with Pam/Benson.

Human AU where Stella is the bio child of both of them.

Pam chews on a pen absently as she wanders into the breakroom to join her coworkers, who had already started their lunch break about ten minutes prior. Instantly, the smell of tuna and mayo hits her nose and makes her gag.

She steps out again and runs to the bathroom to splash some water on her face. Leaning against the washbasin for a few seconds, she waits to see if the feeling will pass or get worse, sighing with relief when it goes away. Weird. What is going on lately? she thinks.

Pam looks at herself in the mirror again and leaves the bathroom.

When she returns, her colleagues welcome her back with strange stares. Fortunately, they are all no longer eating, so the food, including the dreaded tuna, is gone, though she swears some vague smells still linger. She tries to ignore it, and sits down.

“Uhh, yes?” Pam looks around at the group while she takes her salad from the fridge beside her.

“Pam? Is everything okay? You seem a little… off today,” Stefan takes the seat right next to her. His tone is sincere, maybe even a little worried, the giggle as he snatches a piece of tomato from her bowl decidedly less so. Pam tosses a glare his way.

She shoves a forkful of leaves into her mouth before speaking, “I don’t know, it’s really weird.” And then she rattles off the various things she’s been dealing with as of late. She describes the mood swings, the fatigue, the constant hunger, the nausea.

By the end of her spiel, Stefan and her other closest coworker, Tobias, are giving each other a strange look, as if they’re in on a secret, a piece of the puzzle that they want to reveal but aren’t exactly allowed to.

“Ohhh. I know what’s going on here,” Tobias says smugly. The other man chuckles.

Pam looks at him and puts more salad in her mouth, not bothering to ask him to elaborate. She knows he will regardless.

“Obviously somebody’s pregnant,” Tobias leans over the table, close to her face, and says in a loud whisper.

“Ooooooohhh! Uh-oh!” Stefan teases.

Pam’s eyes widen and she almost chokes on some cracked pepper. After a few brief seconds, she comes to her senses.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so. It’s probably just that bug that’s been going around,” she tells them, and continues eating.

“Actually, yeah, maybe it is,” one of their older colleagues chimes in as he gets up to leave the breakroom.

“Psh, yeah. Whatever you say,” Tobias teases. He rolls his eyes and then he and his friend exit the room to go back to work, leaving Pam alone.

She sighs into her salad bowl and stabs at the remaining leaves with her fork. “Pregnant? Yeah, really funny, guys. No way,” she laughs to herself, but those strange symptoms linger in the back of her mind and she begins to have doubts.

No, but we haven’t even been trying. Besides, I’m way past that age anyway, right? Obviously it’s just a coincidence and they were messing with me. Yeah. You’re not pregnant, Pam, stop thinking about that.

She doesn’t stop thinking about it. She spends most of the next few hours thinking about it, convincing herself she’s not pregnant, that that was just a stupid joke those guys were telling, and then doubting herself.

She continues like this for a while, until she steps into one room to check on the equipment and sees something that catches her eye. She remembers their boss telling them about this thing, a super new, super high-tech machine that allows the user to see inside anything. She remembers her telling them about how this device was not only better than a standard x-ray machine, but safer.

Pam thinks for a moment. I mean, I already know I’m not pregnant. But what’s the harm in just having a little look-see, right?

She checks to see if there’s anyone watching her and closes the blinds just in case someone might walk by. Breathing a sigh, Pam presses some buttons on the device, listens as it whirs to life, and steps behind it.

She has to wait a few minutes before an image appears on the whiteboard to her right. All the usual things are there, nothing seems amiss. That is, until she shifts her eyes to her lower belly area, where a tiny, strange shape sits. 

Her heart sinks and the nausea returns with a vengeance. She looks away from the screen, breathing heavily. Whatever it is, upon first glance it looks unlike anything that would ordinarily be inside a healthy human body. Pam swallows, although the dryness in her mouth doesn’t so easily allow it.

What is that? Some kind of weird mass in my stomach. Oh, no. It can’t be. Is this how I’m going to die? I should’ve caught this so much sooner, it’s probably way too late to deal with it now. But maybe I should book in with a doctor anyway, see if they can—

She shakes her head. Slowly she comes to her senses, though her heart rate and breathing take longer to return to normal.

“It’s okay, Pam. You’re not dying. At least not yet. Let’s just take a better look at this thing and then make our assumptions,” she tells herself.

She cautiously cranes her neck to look at the board again and takes more notice of the shape. One part of it is much larger, and the other has four small… things sticking out from it. She swears she sees a tiny human in that shape, as strange as it sounds, with the big head and teeny-tiny limbs. Wait.

Hand over face, Pam slowly steps away from the machine and turns it off. The picture is still projected on the wall. She stares wordlessly, eyes wide, hands slipping down to her belly. She’s unsure if she should be concerned or happy.

A million thoughts race through her mind at once, not daring to leave her alone for even a second, as much as she tries to ignore them. She wanders the halls of the vast laboratory, pretending to work whenever someone else is nearby, but spends the remainder of the work day too distracted to actually do anything.

How am I going to tell Benson? How is he going to react? Does he even want to be a dad? He seems perfectly content with just the pets. And what about me? Am I even cut out to be a mom? The animals are kind of a handful already, how are we possibly going to deal with a kid?

When Pam arrives home, she walks past the throng of cats that greet her at the door, enters their bedroom and flops down on the bed, exhausted.

She tells herself she’s only going to lie down for an hour, but wakes up several hours later to the sound of her husband setting the table for dinner. Groggily, she gets up and stumbles out to the kitchen.

Benson’s head snaps up at the sound of her footsteps and he smiles at her. She loves that smile, so much so that it causes all her worries to fade away. But not for very long.

“Hey! Sleep well?” He puts an arm around her and kisses her on the cheek.

“Yeah,” Pam offers him a tired smile and sits down at her usual chair. Benson quickly follows, tucking her chair in for her and then sitting down himself. He scoops up some pesto linguine and plops it onto both of their plates, then grabs a piece of garlic bread and takes a bite out of it. Pam tries her best to eat as much as she can, but her mind is still elsewhere. Benson notices.

“Pam, honey? You okay? You don’t look like yourself tonight,” Benson reaches a hand across the table to grab hers and gently caresses the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Um, oh, I…” she sighs, turning her hand over to give his a squeeze, “can I tell you something?” Her heart races and she sips from a glass of water in an attempt to ease her dry mouth. Now’s as good a time as any, I suppose. Who knows, maybe putting it out there and telling him will help calm my nerves.

“Yeah, of course,” her husband looks her in the eye with a smile, voice as calm and comforting as he can possibly make it. He takes another bite of bread.

“I…” she has to clear her throat, “I’m pregnant.”

Pam watches Benson’s face. He takes a moment to process her words, then his expression goes blank and he coughs up some crumbs. A strange combination of concern and surprise paints his pale, bearded face. Slowly, a large grin appears and the tips of his ears turn pink. Pam swears she’s never seen him look so in love.

“Oh, my god… Are you for real? We’re gonna be parents? I’m gonna be a dad?” Benson whispers, almost a squeal.

“Benson? You okay?”

He wipes that tear from his eye before answering, “Yeah! Yeah, I’m great.” He gets up from his chair, seemingly completely forgetting about the food on his plate, and kneels in front of her. He gently wraps his arms around her and presses his fleshy, weathered cheek against her belly.

“We’re having a bay-bee,” he says, in a high-pitched, sing-song voice that Pam has never heard before, even after all these years.

Later that night, as they’re lying in bed facing each other, Benson gives Pam a kiss on the nose and whispers, “I’m so excited.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

‘I know, you keep saying that,” she giggles.

“Well, I can’t help it. We’re having a baby. Together. Don’t you think that’s… the best?” He moves some hair out of her eye with a finger.

Pam can only respond with a tired “mm-hmm” as she closes her eyes. Benson carefully presses a cold, calloused hand to her belly and she shivers.

“Sorry,” he tilts his head toward where his hand is sitting, “we’re so excited to meet you, baby.”

“You know it can’t hear yet, dad.”

“Dad…” just from the tone of his voice, Pam can tell Benson likes the sound of that.

[soccerbites]

tea party mademoiselle, JJ Maybank

masterlist in bio

a.n: i posted this a few months back so if you think it's familiar that's probably why :) english is not my first language so i apologize in advance for any mistake.

words count: 2,1k

warnings: maybe a little cursing??? but i think not.

(not my gif if it's yours please tell me so i can give you credits)

You woke up by someone jumping in your bed and instantly remembered the promised you had made the night before your mum about taking care of your little sister that day. She had to do double shifts at work, meaning she would be out from seven a.m until around nine p.m.

"Lena stop" you told the five years old girl and she obeyed to your order, sitting next to you where you were laying.

After looking at your phone and noticing it was almost nine a.m you asked her if she wanted to have breakfast, to what she replied with a yes, filled with excitement because she loved your french toasts.

While you two were enjoying the flavorsome food you had prepare, your phone started buzzing and the name of JJ appeared on the screen, you answered the call.

"pretty girl" your friend said through the speaker.

"how you doing gorgeous?" you decided to follow his little game that after all the years of friendship was a completely normal thing between you two, flirting all the time was like the signature of your personal bond, making everyone think JJ and you were involved in something more personal and intimate; which was not close at all from reality.

"our plans for today still on your agenda?" JJ asked, you could tell he was eating due to the weird way he was talking and also your friends had this bad habit of chewing really loud and it made you go insane, but it didn't matter when you recalled on how you were supposed to pick him up and spend the day at the beach together.

"oh shit-" you started but he interrupted you.

"i knew you would forget traitor ass bitch" he didn't sound mad, in fact he was laughing.

"i'm so so sorry Jay" you began talking with your hand on your forehead while the little monster in front of you was watching you, "my mom is doing double shift at work today and i promised to take care of Lena, i'm so so sorry".

"wait, you are with Lena right now?"

"yes, she is looking at me right now, in a malicious way, sometimes she scares the hell out of me" JJ laughed at what you said.

"put me on speaker i wanna talk to her" you could feel how he was smiling on the other line, JJ loved Lena and she loved him, your sister even told you once how she had a crush on him, even though she pissed you off most of the time, it was adorable.

"k", you pulled the phone away from your ear and pressed the button, "someone wants to talk to you" you said to her and then placed the electronic gadget between you two so both could hear him.

"hi princess!" your friend greeted Lena and you saw how her were flooded with joy when she distinguished JJ's voice, "you ok over there?" he asked after a few seconds without any answer, your little sister was shocked.

"Lena! say something to him!" you laughed at her priceless reaction.

"i can't, i'm nervous" she 'whispered' but you knew very well that he had heard her.

"why?" you asked Lena just to mess with the poor little girl.

"he is too cute! you know i like him" her face was close to be red as a tomato, "you talk to him! he is your boyfriend!".

"you know he is not my boyfriend silly kid!" she looked at you deadly in the eyes, "fine fine, i'll talk to him" you brought your phone closer to you but the speaker was still on, "Lena can't talk right now JJ" you glanced at her, she was pointing at the bathroom, "She's on the bathroom right now" with a smile on her face she pulled her thumbs up, indicating you were doing alright.

How the fuck a five years old can be like that?

"oow, that's too bad! i wanted to ask her if she would like that i come over and play with you guys!" JJ and you knew exactly what you were doing, and both loved it.

"shit man" your sister opened her eyes wide open and started moving her head up and down very fast and drastically, "but, i'm sure she would love that you came" you said after getting her message.

" i don't know, i think she hates me-" JJ couldn't finish talking 'cause Lena yelled.

"NO JJ I LOVE YOU PLEASE COME TO MY HOUSE" you held back a laugh.

"oh Lena, there you are!" she was sitting on the floor with her hands over her mouth, not believing what she had just screamed, drama queen just like you, "if you ask me like that i can't say no, i'll be there by midday with food to eat".

"see you Jay"

"see you girls" he hang up and you smiled at your sister who's mouth was wide open.

Waiting for JJ was life-threatening when Lena didn't stop running around the house while howling around the house "JJ is coming here! JJ is going to play with me!", at the beginning was funny and sweet, but after almost two hours of hearing it you wanted to kill her cold-blooded style.

The knock on your door sounded like angels melody entering your ears, your little sister ran towards the door and when you arrived there she had already opened it and let JJ get inside.

"Lena! what if it was a murderer?" you complained for her actions, but she just ignored you and turned to face JJ.

"JJ you have to promise me one thing" she spoke as one of her fingers got close to JJ's face, "you will play with me and not just kiss my sister!" she said extremely serious about it.

"it will be hard not to 'cause she looks beautiful today but i promise you i will not" the blonde expressed as he handed you a greasy brown bag, which you assumed contained the food he said he was going to bring, and winked at you, making you roll your eyes,

"i knew it! JJ is your boyfriend! you were lying to my Y/N!" your dramatic and innocent sister yelled at you.

"No kid, he is messing with you, we are just friends" you replied to her laughing it off.

"I WANT JJ TO BE YOUR BOYFRIEND!" Lena started crying an ran to her room.

"five years old and she's already a drama queen just like her big sis" your best friend scoffed.

"go after her you blondie king" you ordered while setting the table to eat.

"why me? she's your sister" JJ complained

"because she loves YOU way more than she loves ME, besides, you started this, you fix it" you said as placing glasses for the three of you.

JJ used his beauty features to persuade Lena to eat.

Lunch went by fast, lots of laughs and jokes included. The golden boy and you love to mess with your little sister.

You were playing UNO in the living when suddenly the tiny monster stood up full of excitement.

"I have an idea!" she happily said.

"what is it princess?" JJ asked, his angelic blue eyes were focused on the cards held by his hands, thinking about which one throw and deciding over a plus two, thing that made you lift your middle finger and picked up two from the little mountain over the table.

"we're going to bake cookies!" the boy and you looked up to her with a frown on your faces.

"why?" you asked.

"why not?" JJ replied, it was pretty obvious he just wanted to piss you off.

The three of you followed an easy recipe your mom always made on weekends. When you finally introduced the tray filled with the raw cookies the kitchen was a mess, flour everywhere and some cookie dough was sprayed all over the mount kitchen from when JJ picked you up and spun you around.

Five minutes before they were done you told them to go and play or something like that, giving you time to make some coffee and clean a little bit.

You walked into the living room and what you found was the most amazingly cute thing you had seen in your short life. JJ and Lena were sitting in the floor around the little table you were playing cards, unless that now it was filled with plastic mugs and plates. Your little sister had her Rapunzel dress on and the blonde boy was wearing a silver crown with fake amethysts on it and around his neck a pink and purple boa. You decided to appreciate the scenario for a few more seconds, JJ was faking drinking from his cup and Lena was saying something to him that you couldn't hear because you were to immersed into how great your best friends was with kids.

"what are you two beautiful kids doing?" you asked while walking towards them.

"it's a tea party mademoiselle you have to talk properly" JJ scold you.

"oh! i'm so sorry! it was very inconsiderate of me! i brought some tasty cookies to share with you" Your sister gave you a similar boa to the one that JJ was wearing but yours was electric blue and your crown was actually a flowers one.

It was almost seven p.m and after lots of begs and promises you gave up and let Lena and JJ do your make up.

The little girl went running to her bedroom to find her 'products' as she called them and you took advantage of being alone with JJ and told him what you had thought about earlier.

"JJ" you called him and he looked at you, "you are great with kids, you will be an awesome dad" on his face appeared the biggest smile of them all, you knew how much what you were saying meant to him due to everything he had gone through with his dad. He told you multiple times before how he was afraid of ending up being like his dad, but after today you were sure there was no way the pretty boy that was in front of you ended up that way.

"Thank you Y/N it means that you think of me that way" you smiled to him, almost letting an i love you slip from your mouth.

"WHO'S READY FOR THIS?!" Lena screamed.

"Let's get to it" you said, still looking at JJ.

"And JJ" he turned his head, now facing the girl, "i'm doing your make up too"

"Of course you are princess! i want to be as beautiful as Y/N is!"

The whole day was just perfect, you had no words to describe how happy and delighted you felt.

When your mum arrived JJ left. Lena told her everything and she was amazed with the boy, it was a side of him that no one, not even you had seen before and it was a lovely one.

You were turning off the lights of your room when someone entered your room, your mom.

"i do not really know what is happening between you and JJ but, from what you guys told me he was the best today" she smiled at you "so i would reconsider the 'no pogue on pogue macking' rule you told me about and finally leave the just friends aside, it's pretty obvious you two like and love each other in other ways than that" she closed the door without giving you the chance to answer.

The screen of your phone lighted up when you got a text from the boy.

- i was thinking about what you said about me being a good dad, you will be an awesome mom too, but i don't want to have kids if it's not with you, whatcha say?

You were shocked by what he was saying.

- i'm pretty sure that for that to happen there are lots of steps ahead ;)

- like what?

- idk, asking me out first? a kiss?

- my precious Y/N would you do me the honor of going tea partying again? this time just the two of us.

- i'll be delighted JJ Maybank

- and what about letting me kiss you at that tea party?

-it'd be a little inappropriate but i might give in

-god you have no idea of how happy you make me pretty girl.

- you too golden boy

[epiphany-of-a-madwoman]

Daylight | Edward Cullen x Stark!OC

Chapter 1 | Hard Time Adjusting

"You gotta step into the daylight and let it go"

Summary: Delphina Stark, to be frank, is tired. After the events of the Accords are done and half of the Avengers are now considered fugitives, she moves from bustling New York to live with her mom in Forks, Washington. Wielding a sarcastic attitude and crippling self-deprecating humor, she somehow gets wrapped up in the supernatural world.

Word Count: ~4k

Note: Click here for the Masterlist for this series ♡ || Link for my tag list in my Bio ♡

Cold and rain, something so typical of this place, yet Delphina can’t help but scowl as she stares out the car window. The lush green trees from the forest that surround them zip past them, becoming nothing but blurs in shades of green and brown. Her forehead rests against the cool glass, the window fogging up wherever her warm breath hits. If she was seven years old, she’d excitedly draw little pictures on the window, writing witty things that only she laughed at, but she’s not seven anymore. Instead of bouncing in her seat, talking animatedly about everything to anyone who listens, she just sits in the car, barely moving an inch, as silent as a statue. Quiet music pours from the sterosystem of the car, an acoustic guitar and a smooth male voice easing the silence. Occasionally her mom sings along, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the song. 

Delphina looks over at her, taking in her brown hair that’s been cut to her shoulders. Her eyes trace over her mom’s pale complection, a stark contrast to Delphina’s sunkissed skin. Her brown eyes focus on the road in front of them, a small smile resting on her lips. Her gaze moves back to the window, a small sigh leaving her mouth, creating a large cloud of fog on the glass.

Forks, Washington; easily one of the dreariest places Delphina has had the privilege of visiting. Rain always pours from the sky, threatening to drown the town and sweep it away until it’s nothing more than Atlantis. On the off chance the rain ceases, a thick overcast covers the sky, blocking out any chance of sunlight shining down on the city, bathing everything in it’s warm glow. And on the especially rare days where there is no rain but only clear skies, blue is tinged with grey and the sun is dim, not as bright as the summer days in New York. The town is small, with a population of only around 3,000 people, which means the high school can only have one hundred students, two hundred tops.

“School starts tomorrow. Are you excited?” her mom, Anna asks from the driver’s side of the car. It’s been two hours since the plane hit Seattle, an hour of that time spent in the car. They didn’t exchange anything more than small talk and pleasantries in the airport, Delphina too lost in her own little world, dreaming of grand adventures far from here.

“About as excited as I’ll ever be,” she mutters, taking a sip of her soda. It’s awkward and tense, Delphina not having anything to say and her mom not knowing what to say. It feels like a lifetime since Delphina last visited, wearing two pigtails and bright summer dresses she’d inevitably ruin, only ten and causing a storm. But she doesn’t wear pigtails anymore, nor overly bright summer dresses she’d ruin, but still causes a storm everywhere she goes.

“What classes are you excited for?” she continues to prod, either not realizing how disconnected her daughter is or maybe she did and doesn’t care. 

“The one with the books and the paper. Don’t even get me started on the ones involving pens and pencils. I’m getting giddy just thinking about it,” she says. A sardonic smile forms on Delphina’s face as her eyes continue to trace random shapes in the green-blue sky. Her mom reaches across the dash and smacks her arm lightly, the sound off beat with the music playing. 

“Don’t get smart with me, young lady.”

“Can’t help it, have you met my dad?” Delphina replies. 

“Unfortunately.” her mom replies while rolling her eyes. Delphina simply snorts but says nothing else. 

“You were the one that procreated with him,” she mutters, glancing at her mom from the corner of her eyes. 

“Yeah and now I’ve got to deal with you,” Anna says, a smile creeping onto her lips that are painted a soft pink.

“Lucky you.”

The silence surrounds them for a few moments, the sound of rain pattering against the car piercing through it. Delphina slips her hand into the pocket of her sweatshirt, feeling the smooth surface of the flip phone. She runs her finger over its smooth surface, feeling the indent from glass to plastic. And it’s comforting, knowing Nat is only a phone call away, ready to swoop in if Delphina needs her. But more than that, it’s a piece of her home as she’s being thrown into the wolf den.

“You’re hair’s blonde,” her mom says, glancing at her briefly before returning her gaze to the winding road. Delphina touches the tips of her bleached hair, a light silver that she decided on after the abysmal mess Season 8 of Game of Thrones ended up being. 

“Yeah, thought it’d look better,” Delphina says, dropping the strands of hair, watching as they limply fell, lying past her shoulders. She remembers lounging out in the main room, watching Game of Thrones with the TV on full blast, if only for the stern reprimanding she knew Steve would give her. And whenever he was on Earth, Thor would sit on one of the couches, enthusiastically watching it with her, despite not knowing what was happening. He’d cheer when Delphina did and get mad with her, even if he didn’t know why he should be upset when Daenerys burned King’s Landing. 

The rest of the car ride is spent in silence, the minutes dragging on until they reach the house, her new house. When they stop in the driveway, her mom turns off the car and the two of them get out and begin the slow process of unloading the things Delphina brought onto the plane. Her furniture and boxes already arrived two days prior, courtesy of her dad and expedited shipping. The process of unpacking is tedious and annoying, Delphina growing unreasonably frustrated with each passing moment. Her room here is much smaller than her room at the Compound so it’s like playing Tetris trying to fit her furniture. Delphina never liked Tetris. Eventually, she gives up, hearing the sounds of the front door opening and shutting, the old house shaking from the force, a second later unfamiliar voices filtering through the house. 

Quietly, Delphina walks downstairs, the soft sound of feet touching the carpet the only sound she makes. It sounds like two voices - a man and a woman. Upon reaching the landing of the stairs, she sees  two people standing in the living room with her mom. The girl looks around Delphina’s age, with mousy brown hair and a pale complexion that makes her mom look like a middle aged woman who fell asleep in a tanning bed. The man next to her is much older, probably her dad. He’s wearing a police officer uniform with short brown hair and a mustache that looks like something straight out of an 80s boy band. 

“Delphina! I was just about to call you. Come in come in, I want you to meet some people.” her mom exclaims, the smile on her face a touch too wide. The two people look over at Delphina as she apprehensively walks further into the room until she stands next to her mom, directly across from the girl.  

“This is Charlie Swan and his daughter Bella,” both of them smile at Delphina, the girl nodding when her mom says her name.

“Hey,” Delphina says, feeling the gaze of her mom that oozes with sugary sweetness, hiding daggers in them, silently demanding that Delphina play nice, if only for the next few minutes. 

“Hey,” the girl, Bella, mimics. “You’re going to Fork High, right?”

“Not like there's any other high school,” Delphina says. Her mom digs her elbow into

Delphina’s side, subtle enough their guests don't notice, but firm enough to get her point across. Bella’s expression falls the tiniest bit, glancing at her dad and Delphina’s mom before moving her gaze back to her, and Delphina feels a small amount of guilt set in.

‘Must be Capsicle’s influence finally rubbing off on me.’

“Sorry, yes, I’ll be at Forks,” Delphina says, painting the most charming smile she can force on her lips. And Bella’s smile returns, nodding her head again as she opens her hand, pointing it towards Delphina.

“Me too, I can pick you up tomorrow, if you’d like?” she continued. Delphina opens her mouth to decline, not wanting to interact with anyone more than necessary--.

“She’d love to.” her mom interjects smiling at Delphina, her voice too chirper to be normal. Delphina gifts her with a scathing glare, not enjoying her mom strong-arming her into making friends. “It might be good for you to have some friends your own age.” her mom says in a defensive tone. This elicited an eye roll from Delphina but she didn’t argue and a laugh from Charlie that he quickly covers up with a cough when she looks over at him. 

“Yeah, Bella could introduce you to her friends at school, they’re… interesting.” Charlie says. At the end of his sentence, he starts scratching the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. The tension in the room between Delphina and her mom is palpable, so thick you could taste it.

“That’s a great idea! Now, I do believe Bella was kind enough to bake us some brownies, so let’s go eat dinner and devour those,” her mom exclaims, bustling towards the kitchen area.

Internally, Delphina groans as she drags her feet towards the dining room. She would give her left foot away if it meant she could be back at the Compound, locked away in her dad’s lab as she tinkers with anything and everything. Instead she has to endure as her mom plays host, pretending to not notice the wary looks both Bella and Charlie give her, like she’s a ticking bomb seconds away from exploding if either of them say or do the wrong thing.

                                                   o0o0o0o

After the most awkward dinner ever, Charlie and Bella leave their house, Bella telling Delphina she’ll be back at 7:30 am to pick her up. After helping her mom clean up, placing dishes in the sink and quickly wiping down the table, Delphina rushes up to her room, ready to go to sleep. She gets undressed and throws on some cotton pajamas, running through her skincare routine before eventually settling in bed, scrolling through her IPad mindlessly, doing anything and everything to avoid any headlines that involve the Avengers. A few moments later, her mom knocks on her doorway, standing in the hallway. She’s out of her clothes and in a sleep shirt and old leggings, wet hair dripping on the carpet with a bare face. 

“Goodnight,” she says. 

“Night mom,” Delphina says, not looking up from her screen. 

“Del, I’m glad you’re here.” her mom says after a moment of silence. 

“Yeah, I missed you,” she mutters, briefly meeting her mom’s gaze before her eyes flit back to the bright screen, enraptured by the cat video playing. She sighs and then another moment of silence passes before once again, it’s broken by her mom. 

“Look,  I understand this must be difficult with everything that’s happened in the past month --” her mom begins. Delphina’s mind snaps to the present upon hearing the words, already where the conversation is heading and not liking it.

“I’m gonna make like Kanye, and cut you off. I don’t want to talk about it,” she says, holding up one perfectly manicured hand.

“I’m serious Delphina, I know you were close with all of them, and now most of them are wanted criminals --” her mom pushes through like a charging boar going headfirst, seemingly unbothered by Delphina’s attempt at shutting down the conversation. 

“And I’m serious when I say I don’t want to talk about it.” Her voice grows louder, completely smothering the words her mom said. She presses down on the lock button, her IPad turning off with a quiet click. She haphazardly tosses it to the other side of the bed, bouncing a few times before it settles in its spot. 

“Ignoring it isn’t going to solve anything,” Anna continues to argue, looking at her daughter with wide, pleading eyes. 

“And neither is this conversation,” Delphina says, throwing the plush duvet over herself, cocooning herself in it’s warm embrace, willing her mom and her prying question away.

“I don’t want to start this right now Del. Just know I love you.” and with that, her mom closes the door behind her, her footsteps slowly disappearing. 

Delphina lays motionless for hours, staring at the same spot in the wall, her mind a chaotic storm, sweeping away any sense and logic. Eventually sleep overcomes her, lulling her into it’s warm embrace, the memories fading away until all she dreams about is happier times. 

                                                    o0o0o0o

FORKS HIGH Home of the Spartans.

The wood sign in the grass displaying the high school name, like everything else in this town, is old and worn, the words nearly too faded to read. The school building itself is no exception. The brick building is larger than Delphina anticipated, different than the pictures she painted in her mind. The design is similar to the stereotypical school, the kind in all the kids cartoons. Bella’s orange truck pulls into a parking spot, near a white van with a group of people surrounding it. Her eyes scan over them, watching the three boys rambunctiously talk to each, pushing one another around, feeding into the small town stereotypes Delphina built up. The group turn to face the truck once Bella cuts the engine, the truck spitting loudly before finally shutting down. And Delphina has to force the scowl that’s forming on her face away, unwilling to further the rich girl stereotype, even if she perfectly fits into it most days. 

“Hey, Bella! Who’s that with you?” a blonde guy in a letterman jacket and jeans says to Bella as she opens the car door, Delphina following suit. 

“Hey Mike, this is Delphina, she’s new here,” Bella replied, gesturing towards Delphina’s general direction with her hand. The group immediately turn their attention to Delphina, watching her like scavenger birds about to feast upon a freshly rotted corpse. 

Gross.  

“Delphina eh? Interesting name, I’m Mike,” the guy - Mike - says, walking towards her with his hand outstretched. 

“Don’t touch me,” she says, effortlessly side stepping him and turning towards Bella. “I’ll see you later, I’ve got to get my schedule.”

“Wait aren’t you Tony Stark’s daughter!?” a girl in the group exclaims, her voice grating against Delphina’s eardrums. 

She doesn’t give them a response or any indication she hears the question, quickly walking away from the group. She adjusts her backpack and messes with the bracelet on her wrist, the metal is cold and smooth to the touch, bringing her out of her thoughts momentarily. 

Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. 

She wills herself to keep moving forward rather than fleeing like she wanted to, especially since everyone’s gaze is on her. She can see in their faces, the tilt of confusion, eyes alight as they recognize the daughter of Iron Man himself. The closer she gets to the steps that lead up to the school, the more people notice her. And despite the airs of arrogance she puts on, Delphina hates people looking at her, especially when they look at her like a tiny new toy to play with.  And for a brief moment, she considers convincing her mom to let her do online school rather than deal with any people. Or maybe she could run off into the woods surrounding the school, never to be seen again as she lives in solitude for the rest of her days.

Eventually she reaches the top of the steps, moving in the school building that brings a much-needed warmth to her chilled body. Her eyes scan the entrance, trying to see past all the people moving around, chatting loudly with one another. More students are inside, near lockers and other spots, seemingly enjoying the cold as much as Delphina did. She darts towards the wooden door to her left, the sign hanging over it reading OFFICE.

Entering the room, it’s relatively small with a few chairs pushed up against the wall. They face towards the counter that the front desk woman is sitting behind. And further behind her is another door that most likely leads to the office of the principal and the assistant principal. The woman behind the desk looks to be in her late 40s, with fine blonde hair, nearly as pale as her skin, that’s cropped short. She wears a pair of stereotypical receptionist glasses set on the bridge of her nose as she eyes Delphina with a look of interest. Thick red lipstick coats her thin, wrinkly lips, some of it smudging onto her face. 

“How can I help you today sweetie?” she asks, lowering her gaze slightly to get a better look. Her eyes burned through Delphina for a few moments, trying to determine if she knows her from somewhere. Delphina moves forward until she stands close enough to the counter that she can touch it and smell the strong floral perfume the woman wears.

“Hi, I’m Delphina Stark. I’m here to pick up my schedule,” she says. With those magical words, Delphina watches the woman’s eyes widen a fraction in surprise before she manages to semi collect herself. But she’s sitting up a bit straighter, her lips stretching into a grin that is a hair wider than a few minutes before.

It looks like the notoriety of her last name has reached everyone in little old Forks. 

“Oh of course! I’ll get that right for you, Ms. Stark,” the woman says, rolling her chair away and opening a filing cabinet. She rummages around for a few moments, before finding her target. She rolls back to where Delphina is waiting and places the sheet of paper on the counter, her long acrylic nails tapping against the countertop. Bright red, a bold color, yet so stereotypical for a secretary. “Here you go, dear.” 

“Thanks,” she mutters, turning to leave the room as soon as possible. Looking down at the paper, she reads her first class of the day, Biology. Glancing down at the map in her hands, Delphina begins following the vague directions, hoping to get there before class starts.

‘God knows I don’t need the attention.’

                                                     o0o0o0o

The bell rings loudly in the hall, piercing through any ambient noises and causes any lingering students to rush off. With a slur of curse words, Delphina rushes towards the door, that if the map is correct, should lead to her Biology class. Her footsteps pound against the glossy linoleum floors as she closes the distance between her and the door. She stops in front of the door, smoothing down her sweater and jeans, adjusting her backpack, and smooths her hair. With a final deep breath, Delphina opens the door, entering the classroom. 

The chattering that previously filled the room ceases once Delphina enters the room. The teacher, Mr. Molina is standing near his desk and currently faces Delphina, some papers in hand along with a pen. He smiles widely at her, in an attempt to ease her anxiety, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he does. Each of her steps in the room is magnified 100x, the students watching her like a hawk. 

“Hello, Delphina I assume?” he asks, meeting her halfway, clicking his pen on.

“Yeah, that’s me,” she says, handing him the paper the front desk lady gave her. He quickly scribbles his signature and hands the paper back to Delphina. He turns towards his desk and grabs a book before turning back to her.

“Alright Delphina Stark, welcome to Biology! Here’s this book for you --” he says as he hands her the Biology textbook. “I’ve got a seat for you, right over there,” he continues, pointing to the only empty seat in the room. 

“Thanks,” she mutters, making her way down the rows of seats towards her new lab partner. 

When her eyes land on him, Delphina nearly forgets how to breathe properly, needing to make an effort to inhale and exhale. He looks perfect, like a sculpture from Ancient Greece with a beauty that could put actual gods to shame. His skin is porcelain pale, nearly glowing in the dingy classroom lighting. His copper hair is messy, like he runs his hands through it a million times a day, framing golden eyes that look like glittering gold. He’s boyish in appearance with a blank expression resting on his perfect face, clearly already bored with the class. An unopened notebook along with a pen is the only possession he seems to have with him. 

 His gaze moves up to Delphina, gold meeting blue for only a second, but it’s enough to electrify her, as he moves his eyes back to his desk, fist clenching at his sides ever so slightly. And despite Delphina’s best interest, her heart stutters for a moment, her mouth getting drier the longer she looks at him.

Like in a trance, she moved towards the table, her eyes moving from her mysterious lab partner, to the back wall, back to him, then back to the wall. She finally arrives at the table, pulling out the chair and sitting in it. The chair scrapes against the floor, pulling attention back to Delphina, but they quickly lose interest as the Mr. Molino starts to speak, droning on about onions or something. 

“Hey,” she says, not expecting a reply, if his sullen expression is anything to go by.

And she doesn’t receive one. The entire class passes by and he manages to not utter a single word to Delphina, doesn’t even breathe in her direction. 

As soon as the bell rings, signifying that class is over, the guy shoots out the classroom, disappearing from view before Delphina could even blink, leaving her mildly disgruntled, confusion clouding her thoughts.

“Hey, New York!” the voice of Mike breaks her out of her thoughts. “Why don’t you let me walk you to class?” 

And as she grabs her books and bag, she groans, doing everything in her power to dodge Mike while inflicting minimal injuries to him, not wanting to be sent home on her first day of school.

                                                    o0o0o0o

Tags: 

@stuckupstucky​ 

[cristinablackthornkingson]

Shadowhunters Short Story #69 Brothers are what best friends can never be.

Crossposted to my AO3, link in my bio.

It is a stormy March evening in Devon, 2013, when 15 year old Kit Herondale is pulled from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps entering the kitchen.

Kit lifts his head from where he was resting it against the wall his chair is against, and opens his eyes to see a tired but joyous looking Jem standing a few feet away from him, smiling ear to ear.

“Jem.” Kit scrambles to sit up, setting his mug down on the table beside him. “I-Is everything okay? Are Tessa and the baby okay?” He anxiously asks. Tessa went into labor about 6 hours ago, and Kit hasn’t heard much from she or Jem since. They came into the kitchen a couple of hours ago, with Magnus, so Tessa could get some herbal tea that she said is meant to help labor move faster and be less painful, but since then he hasn’t heard anything. 

“Yes everything is absolutely fine, would you like to come meet your sister?” Jem asks in a tone of joy, still beaming with delight. He is so utterly in love with his baby girl, it almost hurts. 

Kit nods eagerly, having been looking forward to this moment for almost nine months. 

Jem gestures for Kit to follow him. As they walk, Jem turns to Kit with a look of confusion on his face. 

“Oh yes I meant to ask you, who were you talking to earlier? Just after Tess, Magnus and I left the kitchen to go upstairs so Tessa could rest.” He asks, remembering hearing Kit’s voice, low and quiet in the kitchen, while Jem helped Tessa up the stairs. 

Kit blanches, remembering the conversation he had with Livvy’s ghost, just hours ago. He could tell Jem the truth, but then he’d probably worry and feel like he has to contact Emma to check that everything is okay, and that would distract him from Tessa and the baby.

“Oh um, no one important, I was on the phone with someone I went to school with, we’re not close or anything, just... called them because I was bored.” Kit shrugs, easily coming up with a lie, that seems to satisfy Jem. 

“Oh, well I’m glad to hear you have friends and are talking to them!” 

A few seconds later Jem leads him into the main bedroom, Jem and Tessa’s room. Jem lets Kit step ahead of him, while he closes the door.

The first thing Kit notices is how nice and warm and cozy the room is, thanks to the fireplace against the wall across from the bed, that’s been lit. The second thing he notices, is Tessa sitting propped up in bed with a mountain of pillows behind her, her hair is disheveled and thrown into a messy bun at the back of her head. She’s wearing a dusty pink hospital gown, that is open at the top, showing a tiny little body curled up against Tessa’s chest, wearing only a diaper and a hat, with a blanket covering her back. Peeking out from the little hat are wisps of curling dark hair. 

When she hears the door close, Tessa looks up and her face lights up when she sees Kit and Jem, a warm smile coming across her face. 

“Hi sweetheart.” Tessa quietly says in a hoarse voice. “I missed you, come meet your baby sister.” 

Carefully, Kit walks the few feet to the bed and lowers himself into a chair by Tessa’s side.

“Hold your arms out, one under the other like you’re making a cradle with your arms.” Tessa calmly says. It takes a few minutes of fumbling and help from Tessa, but soon Kit gets his arms in the right position. Tessa carefully lifts the baby out from inside her gown, wrapping the blanket around her expertly, before carefully laying her in Kit’s arms. 

The minute the baby is in his arms, Kit feels an unexplainable overwhelming rush of love, he already loved her before she was born, but looking at her now it’s like falling in love with her all over again. He chokes back tears as his eyes well up and his throat tightens. 

“Hi.” He quietly says in a tight voice. “Hi baby sister, I love you.” He briefly looks up from the baby’s face and asks “What’s her name?” 

Jem and Tessa share a smile, and Jem slips his hand into hers. 

“Wilhelmina Yiqiang Ke Carstairs, Mina for short.” Tessa softly says.

“What does Yiqaing mean?” Kit curiously asks, unfamiliar with Mandarin. 

“It means ‘Remembrance’ we chose it for those we’ve lost but will always remember, Will, Lucie, Jamie, Rosemary.” Jem gently says, hoping that this won’t upset Kit in anyway.

“I....” Kit trails off, unsure of how to feel about his baby sister in part being named for his mother, who he has absolutely no memories of. When he thinks about it though, he realizes it’s a beautiful gesture and a perfect way to make sure his mom is never forgotten. “I think she would have liked that.” He finishes, earning warm smiles from Jem and Tessa. 

“We think so too, love, we think so too.”

Kit looks back down at his baby sister, Mina, who has now blinked her eyes open to reveal big dark brown eyes just like Jem. She and Kit stare at eachother in fascination for a few seconds, before Mina wriggles her little arm free from her blankets and reaches up to grab onto Kit’s thumb, making him laugh and have to wipe at tears of joy. 

“It’s like she’s holding my hand.” He laughs, liking the idea of Mina feeling safe with him and wanting to hold his hand. He’ll be a great big brother to her, and always protect her and keep her safe. 

“Of course she is, she’s a very clever young lady and knows already just what a fantastic big brother she has.” Tessa says in a warm tone, making Kit’s heart flutter with delight. 

Kit holds Mina for a few more minutes, just looking at her in awe, taking in everything about her. Everything is totally calm and peaceful in the room, until Mina starts to fuss which in seconds turns into full on wails, breaking Kit’s heart right in two and making him panic. 

“Oh no! Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to make her cry, I’m sorry!” Kit says in an alarmed and panicked tone, desperately trying to sush Mina and calm her with light bouncing. 

“It's alright love.” Tessa calmly says, placing a calming hand on Kit’s arm. “You didn’t do anything wrong she’s just hungry, here let me take her.” Tessa reaches over and carefully lifts Mina into her own arms. She single handedly and quickly adjusts her gown before guiding Mina to her chest, helping her to latch on.

As Tessa nurses Mina, Kit flushes and awkwardly tries to find somewhere to look. He has nothing against breastfeeding of course, he doesn’t care if someone does it in front of him, but it’s a bit different when it’s Tessa, the woman who took him in and promised to love and raise him for the rest of his life, the only mother he has. 

Jem immediately notices how embarrassed and awkward Kit feels and decides to intervene. 

“Kit.” He says. “Do you want to join me downstairs for dinner? Magnus left enough food for us for the next week or so.” Kit immediately nods. 

“Yes please!”

“Alright let's go, see you later my loves.” Jem softly says, stroking Mina’s hair and giving Tessa a quick peck on the lips. 

“See you later.” Tessa replies, watching fondly as Jem and Kit leave the room, Jem telling Kit awful dad jokes and making him laugh, which makes Tessa’s heart lift. Once the boys are gone, she looks back down at Mina and smiles softly “We’re very lucky to have them Mina, aren’t we?” 

The next day, at around 10:00 A.M. there is a light knock at Tessa and Jem’s bedroom door. 

“Come in!” Jem calls, keeping a careful eye on Church, who has cautiously approached Mina, lying in Tessa’s arms, and is clearly trying to decide what he thinks of the new baby.

The door opens and Kit steps in, looking sheepish. 

“Hello love.” Tessa beams, delighted to see Kit. 

“Everything okay son?” Jem asks in a worried tone, afraid that maybe something is wrong with Kit. 

“Oh yeah everything’s fine I just....” Kit clears his throat. “I um... I was just wondering if you need any help with Mina or anything, I’m not doing anything so... I thought I’d come see if you need some help.” He nervously tells them, afraid that they’ll say no and send him off to be on his own all day while they bond with Mina. He really wants to spend some time with Jem, Tessa and Mina but will they want to spend time with him?

“That would be lovely Kit, thank you.” Jem warmly says. Kit’s shoulders sag in relief and he starts to relax again.

“You can come over here and hold Mina for a while if you like, I’m going to have my first postpartum shower which can take anywhere from 10 minutes to about an hour.” Tessa lightly says, remembering her first postpartum baths after James and Lucie were born. She had been terrified of getting out of bed at all after James was born, nevermind bathing, but Jem was waiting right outside if she needed any medical assistance and Will was with her, while Charlotte and Henry watched Jamie.

Kit laughs as he takes a seat on the bed next to Tessa, and she lowers Mina into his arms when he is settled back against the pillows. 

“Did it hurt?” Kit curiously asks, looking up at Tessa. 

“Giving birth?” She asks. Kit nods. “It did, like hell, all 3 times, but it’s more than worth it, just like what we went through to find you and going through the adoption process is worth it, to have my babies.” Tessa fondly says, brushing Kit’s hair out of his eyes.

Shortly after he moved to Devon with Tessa and Jem, they approached him about legally adopting him, assuring him he can keep his surname and doesn’t have to take the name Carstairs if he doesn’t want to, but they would very much like to legally and officially adopt him. Kit thought about it for a while before agreeing, the process is long and stressful and still not fully complete, but it’s more than worth it to Tessa and Jem, to have their Kit. 

Kit smiles and blushes and Tessa kisses his cheek before ducking to kiss Mina on the cheek too. “I love you.” 

Tessa then stands up, grabs her towel, bathrobe and toiletries bag and heads into the ensuite bathroom for her shower. 

“I was looking through social media yesterday, after you set me up on Facebook so I can stay in touch with Emma easier. I saw this group on there for new fathers, and decided to join, thinking it would be full of advice and tips on how to care for baby and handle your anxieties and take care of your partner if you have one, stuff like that. Instead I found the most awful people complaining about their wives and babies, mostly talking about how seeing their wife give birth and seeing her postpartum has totally turned them off and they feel cheated, one phrase I saw over and over again was ‘It’s like watching your favorite pub burn down’.

I just cannot believe how disrespectful and horrendous these men are, their wives have just gone through 9 months of pregnancy followed by labroing and giving birth, and all they can do is whine and complain that 2 weeks postpartum she hasn’t lost the weight she gained and is still wearing pajamas or comfy clothes most days.

I don’t understand it, I delivered James, I delivered Lucie and I delivered Mina, I was Tessa’s primary caregiver when she was pregnant with James and when she was pregnant with Lucie, I’ve been by her side every second of this pregnancy and I’ve seen her postpartum 3 times now, and to me she always seems even more glorious and beautiful after having a baby, because she’s just gone through so, so much to bring a whole new life into this world, she’s just grown an entire other person, she’s like a goddess. 

I don’t understand it, how can anyone say those things about their wives? I couldn’t love Tessa more, whether she’s pregnant or not, whether she’s just had a baby or not. I just... I don’t understand it.” 

Kit is totally unsure of what to say after Jem finishes talking. He totally agrees with him, that the way some men talk about their wives after she’s given birth is absolutely disgusting, but he doesn’t know what to say to Jem. 

“I... uh... I agree?” He tries, not wanting to just ignore Jem. Jem turns to him and smiles softly, before reaching over and ruffling his hair affectionately. 

“Sorry Kit, I didn’t mean to rant to you, it’s just when I was young, when someone had just given birth, they took weeks, even months, to bond with the baby and heal from the birth, there were no expectations to ‘bounce back’ or anything, I’m just still trying to adjust to modern life and modern people. But at least I have you eh? You keep me up to date.”  

“I try, it’s my life mission to get you to stop saying ‘Order it offline’.” Kit grins. Jem chuckles. 

“You’re a good boy my Kit, I’m so glad you’re here with us.”

About 20 minutes later Tessa comes out of the bathroom in a clean pair of pyjamas, her yellow bathrobe thrown on over her pink pajamas, and her wait hair tied into a bun at the back of her head. 

“You made it!” Kit cheers, grinning at Tessa as she sits next to him on the bed. She grins and kisses his cheek. 

“That I did, and now it’s miss Mina’s turn to get changed, your Uncle Magnus gave us the most adorable clothes for you Mina, and I can’t wait to see you in them.” Tessa coos, taking Mina as Kit carefully passes her to her, before laying her down on the bed, just in front of her.

From the basket on the floor beside her, Tessa takes out a plain pink baby-gro/onsie, that has a hood, and pockets at the front. 

“That’s pretty tame for Magnus’ standards.” Kit notes. 

“I know, I think Alec picked this one out and it’s just so adorable!” Tesa exclaims, beginning to unbutton the yellow onsie with pink flowers that Mina is currently wearing. 

Kit watches in fascination as Tessa carefully and expertly slips Mina’s tiny arms out of her onsie and does the same with her legs. He can’t help but be fascinated by how small and tiny and delicate Mina is. She’s the smallest person he’s ever met, and so fragile too, he would be terrified if he were in Tessa’s position.

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll accidentally hurt her or break her, because she’s so small and delicate?” Kit asks Tessa, who laughs lightly as she starts to put the new onsie on Mina.

“I was when I had Jamie, Will and I both, but after having James and then Lucie and then helping out with my grandchildren and many, many other little ones, I’ve become an expert in handling delicate little babies.” Tessa explains. She then lifts a freshly dressed Mina up (once again shocking Kit with her confidence) and holds her so they’re face to face. Tessa’s smile grows and she leans in to kiss Mina’s cheek. “There we go, pretty baby! The sweetest, cutest baby in the world, huh?” 

“You should take a family photo with the kids Tess, the same way you took a photo of you and Jamie after he was born, and then you Jamie and Lucie after Lucie was born.” Jem suggests, knowing how much having pictures to remember these moments by, means a lot to Tessa.

“Oh yes that sounds like a lovely idea! Is it okay with you, Kit?” Tessa asks, laying a hand on his arm. Kit finds it kind of hard to believe that Tessa wants to take a picture with him, he still finds it hard to believe that she loves him as if he’s her own, and Jem does too, but he’s not about to say no.

“Sure, sounds like a good idea.” Kit agrees.

A few minutes later, after a bit of fussing from Mina, Jem snaps a series of pictures of Tessa, Kit and Mina. In the picture Tessa is sitting up in bed with Mina cradled in one arm, and the other around Kit, who is leaning into her and smiling shyly. It’s definitely one of Jem’s favorite pictures.

“It’s perfect.” Tessa says when Jem shows her the photo. “We’ll get it framed and hung up beside the pictures of me and Lucie and Jamie, as soon as we can.” 

“Sounds perfect.” Jem agrees. “I better go make a start on breakfast, I’ll bring you up a tray of course, love. Kit would you like to stay in here and have breakfast with us?” Jem asks. Kit nods, there’s nothing he’d love more, actually. 

“Yes please.” He says, settling back against the pillows, beside Tessa and Mina, feeling truly safe, and loved and happy for one of the first times in his life.

*1 YEAR LATER* 

It is a hot and humid day in March of 2014, when Jem, Tessa, Kit and Mina step out of the portal and onto the streets of Shanghai, just outside the Ke House, where they will be staying for the duration of their first family vacation. 

They’ve been planning this trip since Mina was 6 months old, and agreed that the best time to come would be just after Mina’s first birthday, she would be able to handle the heat and humidity better now as a one year old, than she would have done as a much smaller baby, and Kit is truly settled and content with them now and feels comfortable enough to go on vacation. 

“Is this where you lived before you moved to London, dad?” Kit curiously asks, having taken to calling Jem and Tessa mom and dad over the last few months, which they both love. 

“For a year or so, I was born here, lived here till I was about 1 and then my parents were put in charge of running the Institute which is where I lived until I went to London.” Jem informs him. 

“Cool.” Kit says, looking up at the building in front of him, in awe. 

“Come on, let's go find our rooms and get settled in, then I’ll introduce you to everyone.” Jem says, as Tessa sets a wriggling Mina down. 

“Mina.” Kit says with a sly grin. “Wanna race?” Mina has been walking since she was 9 months old, and now loves to run everywhere, especially when she gets to race Kit who of course always lets her win. 

“Uh-hu!” Mina nods enthusiastically. 

“Okay come on let's go, or I’m gonna get the biggest room!” Kit declares, taking off at a slow pace so that Mina can easily pass him by.

Jem chuckles and kisses Tessa’s cheek before going ahead of Kit to lead the way. 

As Jem shows Kit and Mina where they’ll be staying, Tessa goes ahead to her and Jem’s room, the same room they always stay in when they visit here. 

One of the first things she does is take one of her bags into the bathroom to unpack her toiletries. When she opens the bag, the first thing she sees is the pink box containing the pregnancy test she packed. 

For the last few weeks she’s been feeling sick and tired all the time, and has been having some issues with her powers, all the symptoms she had when pregnant with Mina. She had meant to take a test before they came to Shanghai, but she was so busy with Mina’s first birthday she totally forgot, until this morning when she was packing the last bits and pieces and found the pregnancy test she had bought a few weeks ago but never taken, so she decided to throw into the bag and take it here in Shanghai. 

Tessa nervously bites her lip and looks over her shoulder to make sure Jem or anyone isn’t nearby. When she’s satisfied she’s alone, she closes the door, opens the pregnancy test and takes the few minutes required, to take the pregnancy test. 

Three minutes later her phone beeps to let her know it’s time to look at the test, and so on shaky legs she pushes herself up from her seat on the edge of the bathtub, and walks over to the sink. She takes a deep breath before picking the test up and looking it. 

‘YES+’

Tessa can’t help but let out a stifled sob of delight, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. She and Jem weren’t trying, but they weren’t trying to prevent a pregnancy either, they decided to leave it up to nature, they agreed they would be thrilled if they had another baby now, but would also be okay with not having another one just yet. 

Tessa quickly finds Jem standing outside the room that’s going to be Kit’s, supervising he and Mina as they unpack (well more like Kit occasionally takes something out of his suitcase, then gets distracted by Mina and doesn’t unpack anything else for 20 minutes.) 

“How are you 3 getting on?” Tessa asks Jem, coming up to stand at his side. 

“Not too bad, though I think I might have to seperate the kids in order to get anything done, they distract eachother.” Jem laughs, his heart swelling with love as he watches Kit laughing while carrying Mina around on his back. He then turns to smile at Tessa and softly says “I can’t believe how amazing the last year has been, I couldn’t have asked for a better first year of fatherhood, I’ve loved every second.”

Tessa grins knowingly. 

“Well that’s good.” She says, holding up the positive pregnancy test for Jem to see. “Because in about 8 months, we get to do it all again.” 

[alarawriting]

Writeober #4: Loud

The children were playing. It was toy hour, so they had out Legos, and dolls, and wooden trains, all that sort of thing. Quiet, by the standards of an orphanage. A couple of Eights were reading, an activity they preferred to playing with toys. Children’s babble filled the air, but not the shrieks they made when they played outside.

And then Jayden started screaming, almost painfully loudly. “I want my mommy! I want my mommy!”

Laurie ran to him and gathered him into her arms. “Oh, Jayden, I know,” she said, rocking him. “I know, honey, I know. But she’s not here.”

Jayden was a Four who had just been surrendered a few weeks ago. “Where is she? I want to see her! I want my mommy!” He thrashed in Laurie’s arms, but the limiter prevented him from exerting any more strength than a normal four-year-old child.

“Sweetie, I’m so sorry. But this is your home now, and any day now, a new mommy or daddy might come through that door and see you and say ‘What a beautiful, wonderful little boy! We want him for our own little boy!’ and take you to a new home with them, and they’ll be your mommy or daddy.”

“I don’t want a new mommy! I’ll kick the new mommy!” Jayden howled. “I want my mommy!”

“I know, sweetie,” Laurie said, sadly. It was all she could say. It was all she could say to any of them.

Several others started crying for their own mommies and daddies. Basil, who’d been in the back working on the finances, came out to help, and the other childcare workers moved around the playroom, soothing children. In her mind, Laurie damned to hell the men and women who’d abandoned these children. How could they do that? How could anyone do that to a child?

But humans weren’t designed to have children who never aged, who lived 40-50 years and grew more knowledgeable but never substantially more mature. Laurie loved the Calvin children desperately, and wanted to save all of them, and if she had been queen of the world she would have made their continued manufacture illegal and had everyone involved in creating and marketing them arrested. There shouldn’t be any more Calvin children coming into the world; it was far too terrible a place for them.

At that, it was better than it had been when Laurie was younger. In her freshman year at college, her roommate Kathy had recruited her in a panic to help her save her little brother, an Eight. Like most families who bought them, Kathy’s had gotten a Calvin child when they’d had no children of their own, but then Kathy’s dad had undergone an experimental fertility treatment, and for him, it had worked. Turned out down the road to cause prostate and testicular cancer, but he’d managed to get his wife pregnant with a healthy baby.

Kathy’s brother had fallen in love with the new baby, playing with her and cooing at her and taking care of her, even learning to change diapers and feed her a bottle. So her parents had kept him, for the help he gave them with her. By the time Kathy was old enough that they didn’t need him to watch her anymore, she’d been so attached to him they hadn’t been able to get rid of him. He’d been Kathy’s older brother that she looked up to, and then her peer that she played with, and then the little brother she protected.

In those days the Calvin Corporation had only leased Calvin Children; you couldn’t buy them. It was intended as a measure to protect the children from abuse, but it almost guaranteed that if parents had their own child, or grew tired of a child who never aged, or were tight on money and needed to cut costs, they would stop leasing, returning the Calvin child to the corporation… where their memories would be wiped, and they’d either be sent on to a new home, or destroyed if they couldn’t be leased. So Kathy’s parents had waited until she was out of the house, at college, and then returned her brother to the corporation. If her brother hadn’t been a model with an internal cell phone antenna, and been able to call Kathy for help, she’d have lost him forever.

As it was, Kathy and Laurie and Basil had had to drive five hundred miles and jump through flaming hoops to get little David back before the mindwipe. As college students without money, they didn’t have the funds to lease him; Kathy pretended to be her mom, got the contract re-activated, and then Basil jailbroke David, replacing his internal antenna with a new one that wouldn’t report his whereabouts to the Calvin Corporation, allowing them to effectively “steal” him. And even then, he’d had to dye his hair, alter his skin tone, and wear glasses he didn’t need and put a thick sole insert in one of his shoes to throw off his gait so recognition software couldn’t find him.

It hadn’t been until ten years later that Kathy, Laurie, Basil and their friends had won the court case that made it possible to purchase Calvin children outright, and with depreciation, and Kathy working at a law firm, and Basil’s IT job, they’d had the funds to buy him, so he’d be safe. He lived with Kathy and Kathy’s girlfriend Imani, and took care of his niece and nephew when Kathy and Imani were at work. They were currently three and five. David was an Eight. Eventually they’d catch up to him and go past him, again, but Kathy owned him outright and loved him tremendously. He was a happy Eight.

The world was full of Calvin children who were not happy.

Parents leased-to-own their children because that was the model Calvin Corporation was currently pushing, with the court order that required them to make full ownership not only available but affordable to their customers. And then, either they had a biological child – most men in the developed world weren’t fertile, but there were plenty of men from all around the world who still had sperm and were selling it, and many men would eventually give in and agree to let their wives buy some so she could have a bio-child at least – or they simply grew tired of a child that never aged. Calvin Children ranged in age from Threes to Tens, but whatever they were, they would be that forever… or at least until their internal battery ran down and their bodies wore out.

(Once, Laurie had gone to visit a brand new care home, for Calvin Children dying of old age. She had never been back. As heartbreaking as it was to deal with children who’d been abandoned by their parents, it was so, so much worse to see those children dealing with their own growing exhaustion and slow decline into death.)

And now, there was a new model of Calvin Child, who could grow older. Their brains were modular, and could be removed from their bodies and put into a new body a year older, every year, updating their firmware in the process to grow more mature – which was costly, but many people were willing to pay. Even if they needed to skip some years, they wanted a child who could grow to adulthood, to take over the family business or help work on a farm or go to college and make something of themselves. No one knew what would happen to the legal framework that allowed people to own Calvin Children once they were “adults”; the fact that Calvin children were chattel didn’t usually conflict with people’s understanding of what adults were allowed to do to their own children. You weren’t allowed to abuse a Calvin child any more than a “real” child, and in general parents of “real” children were allowed to do anything to them that wasn’t abusive.

The only thing you were allowed to do with a Calvin child that you couldn’t do with an organic child was abandon them. People who couldn’t or wouldn’t take care of their Calvin child anymore could return them to the corporation, who would still mind-wipe them and resell them, or, if the thought of their child forgetting everything about them didn’t sit well and they didn’t want to take the risk that the corporation would decide their child was too worn out to resell as used and destroy it, they surrendered them at homes like the one Laurie and Basil ran, where Calvin children would be cared for until an adoptive parent could be found.

Before the new models came out, it wasn’t hard to find adoptive parents. Laurie and Basil charged a pittance for an adoptee, not even enough to cover their costs, mostly because people took better care of things they’d paid for than things that were free. Plenty of people who wanted a Calvin child were happy to give a home to a used one for far less than they’d have paid for a new child, or a used one from Calvin Corp directly. But now that the new models were out… everyone who wanted a Calvin child wanted the kind who could grow up. Laurie had, in desperation, waived the fee, to get someone, anyone in the door to love these children, but no one who could pass the background check had done so in a month.

It burned that she felt like she was lying to Jayden, that maybe there wouldn’t be a new parent for him, that there almost certainly wouldn’t be one in a little while like she was saying. But Jayden was a Four. He wouldn’t understand or appreciate brutal honesty; he needed hope to keep him going. Laurie wasn’t going to lie to him and pretend the mother he remembered, the one he’d spent six years with since his original purchase, would ever come back. But she would try to make him happy, or at least content, to bide his time here until a parent came for him… even if one never did.

Jayden’s sobs wound down. Older children, Eights and Nines and Tens, programmed with an incredibly powerful drive to care for and protect younger children, had reached out to the little ones that Jayden’s outburst had set off, and soothed them, despite their own hearts breaking because their own parents had abandoned them, and they were old enough to know their own parents were never coming back.

“How come she left me here?” Jayden asked, no longer crying, but the streaks of tears still all over his face. They cried, they ate, they pooped, they slept; in all regards but one, Calvin children were virtually indistinguishable from organic children. But it was that one regard – the fact that they’d never grow up – that caused all the problems. “Was I bad?”

“Oh, no, Jayden. You’re a wonderful little boy. It was nothing you did, okay? Nothing you did or could ever do. Your mommy just ran out of money and she couldn’t take care of you anymore.” This was a lie. Jayden’s mother had just been sick of having a four-year-old child for six years. Laurie would never tell any of the children something like that, though.

“I miss her.”

“I know you do. And I know that even if you get a new mommy or daddy to love you and take care of you, you’ll never forget your first mommy, and you’ll always miss her. But there will be a new mommy or daddy someday, and they will love you even more than your first mommy did.” Laurie made prospective parents watch videos of children having meltdowns like Jayden just did, sobbing and begging for their parents to come back, and then impressed on them that this was a lifelong commitment. You were signing on to take care of a Calvin child until you died or they did. Parents who expressed horror or pity or empathic pain for the abandoned children were much more likely to go home with a new member of the family than parents who seemed to shrug it off. Laurie wanted these children to find new homes, but she wanted them to be forever homes, with parents who would never abandon them again.

Laurie stood up. “Now, I think it’s snacktime, kids. Who wants a snack?”

“Me! Me! I want a snack!” children who’d been crying five minutes earlier chorused.  

“All right! Everyone take your seats!”

Children were resilient. Even Calvin children. If she couldn’t give them their own mothers, Laurie would be the best mother figure to them she could be. She’d adopt them herself, but there were so many children who needed help, and a mother with too many children was no different from a child care worker in the attention and love she could give each one. Better to be the mother figure of the orphanage and take care of all of them as best she could.

[jupitermelichios]

Smallville S2E23: Exodus

Nothing happens in this episode and then everything happens. Pacing!

Also Lex gets married off screen becuase the writers are wildly misled about which characters their audience is invested in.

Credit to Tom Welling, for 2002 that is some pretty decent screaming at nothing in the hope that it will make sense once the CGI is added in.

So we open with Jor-El speaking to Clark, giving the standard ‘reject the puny humans and join with me’ kryptonian bullshit, and as part of that he makes projections of Lana and the Kents, and a) he made the Lana projection significantly shorter than Kristen Kruek, and b) instead of just turning off the projection when he’s done with it he uses an effect I can only describe as ‘I don’t feel so good Mr El’

Okay on the one hand angry cupboard sex doctor is 100% justified in being angry at Lex admitting he broke into her office at the beginning of the season, but god damn it their relationship was one of the only compelling things in this fucking show!

Two horses. Lana has two horses again. Did she retrieve the one she left in the graveyard in the first episode?! Did she retrieve one of the many many others that fell into plot holes and disappeared between seasons? Although one of them is piebald, and I’m certain we’ve never seen a piebald horse before, so maybe she went and bought one to replace the last eight she abandoned

Oh god, they just made it really explicit the only person Lex has to take relationship advice from is professional sex pest Clark Kent, no wonder he fucked shit up with angry cupboard sex doctor.

Lionel and Clark are completely alone, in an underground cave, and Lionel still feels the need to whisper all his lines, just for the drama of it. God I love Lionel Luthor.

Oh wow, Chloe is wearing a pale pink Cheongsam over flared jeans, which is the single most 2000 thing I have even seen in my life.

So Jor-El is A Lot in this, and his idea of a compelling argument for why Clark should renounce his human family and take over the world is to levitate Clark and burn the superman logo into his chest with lazers, right across his nipples. Which is certainly an arguement.

Ugh I hate that I’m rooting for Lex and angry cupboard sex doctor even though I know Lex is going do a full villain heel-turn any time now, but I’m so fucking invested at this point and there is literally nothing else in this barren wasteland of a show for me to care about, so fuck it, I’m rooting for them anyway

In order to get both Clark’s shiny new superman scar and Pete’s face into shot at the same time, that shot was framed like Pete is thinking about licking Clark’s nipples, which was a Choice

Pete is 100% going to grow up to be the kind of asshole who writes op eds about how anyone can own property if they just try because he inherited a house at sixteen and got a 6 figure salary thanks to nepotism and if lazy poor people tried harder they could do the same

“There’s something I have to do, I can’t tell you what just know it’s for our future” then followed up a “I just want to remember this moment”. I’m assuming Lana now thinks Clark is going on a killing spree, because that’s the kind of thing people only say in movies before they go on killing sprees and/or hand themselves over to the bad guys to be murdered, and tragically Clark cannot be murdered yet because no one evil knows about the kryptonite thing

I hate Jonathan Kent so much but also I am so invested in Lex getting father figures so this whole Jonathan giving him a Kent family traditional wedding gift thing has me very torn

Jesus fuck I hate Chloe Sullivan. She’s apparently shocked and betrayed that Clark IS INTO LANA. We are two fucking seasons into this sickening bullshit and instead of just being sad that the dude she likes is dating someone else, she’s furious and screaming at him that he betrayed her trust. By fancying the person he’s been consistently into since he was like 3 years old

FFS Lex’s fucking wedding happens off screen so we can spend more time on Clark’s absolute fucking bullshit. Oh, and Clark missed his best friend’s wedding. The wedding at which he was supposed to be best man. Because he’s the absolute worst person in the world

So in literally less than 30 seconds with almost no build up, Clark blew up his entire house in an attempt to murder the tech-ghost of his dead bio-dad, nearly killed his parents in a car crash, and caused his mom to have a miscarriage. The rest of the episode is filler with a tiny bit of relationship drama. You know, like a well paced episode of TV!

On that theme, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THE POINT OF THE PREGNANCY SUBPLOT?!!!!!! It’s taken up so much fucking time in this season and the pay off was meaningless. Martha could have had a concussion and it would have achieved the exact same thing without the need for that complete culdesac of a subplot!

So after we skip the wedding entirely, because it’s not like we’ve had five or six episodes build up, we cut to Lex and angry cupboard sex doctor on their private jet drinking champagne on their way to the honey moon, and firstly the editing implies this is happening at the same time as the house blowing up and holy shit I think that might be a record for the quickest wedding ever (and apparently they didn’t bother with a reception), and secondly it’s framed like she’s poisoned Lex and I have absolutely no fucking idea why she would do that

Okay so after the weird “I’m going to do something terrible but it’s for us” dialogue Lana turns up to find Clark standing in the exploded ruins of his house. And then he tells her he did this. And at no point does it occur to her that Clark was clearly making explosives in the basement. I mean, he wasn’t doing that, but literally all evidence points to that. But she’s just like ‘no clark, how could you possibly have caused a massive explosion that’s not a thing humans can do’

So Chloe’s teamed up with Lionel because she’s sad about the shock reveal that when Clark said he fancied Lana he wasn’t lying, and just in case we didn’t realise this was a villain heel-turn, they’ve dressed her in all black, with twice as much make-up as normal, and also made her hair all spikey in a style we haven’t seen since the red kryptonite episode. Subtlety!

Holy shit we’re getting a drug addiction subplot. Why the fuck are we getting a drug addiction subplot?! Who on the writing staff thought they were competent enough to handle that, because whoever it was was so very very wrong

Okay time out, how the fuck tall is Kristen Kruek?! Because over the course of this episode she’s been the same height as Tom Welling, taller than him, barely come up his his nipples, and about a head shorter. I need answers, right the fuck now!

So Clark just dosed himself up on red kryptonite, stole a motobike, and noped the fuck out of the show. Is it too much to hope that he doesn’t come back and the show just continues on without him because I would honestly be so up for that. Chloe and Lana could go back to being cute sisters instead of fighting over a man barely worth spitting for never mind throwing hands with your best friend, the Kents could adopt Lex and then when he’s had some father-son bonding time Lex could then have Jonathan quietly murdered, Martha could marry Lionel… There’s literally no downsides to cutting Clark out of the show.

Okay so apparently angry cupboard sex doctor drugged Lex, waited until the plane was in the air and then she and the pilots fucking parachute jumped out the plane leaving Lex to crash into the ocean and die and like, him stealing medical files from her was fucked up, but I really don’t feel like it was fucked up enough to warrant going full Bane!

[raywritesthings]

Bird in a Storm 4/17

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Tommy Merlyn, John Diggle, Joanna de la Vega, Quentin Lance, Frank Pike, Felicity Smoak Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: The confrontation between the Hood and SWAT on the roof of the Winick Building goes differently, altering the course of Laurel’s career, relationships and efforts to save her city forever, the shockwaves of such an altered path making themselves felt throughout her family and friends. *Can be read on my AO3, link is in bio*

Joanna couldn’t believe it when she first got the news. But the multiple texts from her coworkers at CNRI proved its veracity: Laurel was being forced out.

She headed over to her friend’s apartment and was let in by a surly Tommy Merlyn.

“You wouldn’t be here to talk some sense into her, would you?”

“I’m here to support my friend.” Joanna headed past him into the sitting room where Laurel looked up from her laptop.

“Hey. I guess you heard.”

“Yeah. Are you okay?” She’d meant to come by even earlier to see her after that whole incident with her injury, but they’d had family in visiting still. It didn’t keep her from feeling guilty for not being there when Laurel clearly needed someone.

She shrugged. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“Just your career,” Tommy reminded them all as he passed by on his way back to the bedrooms. The door shut hard behind him.

Joanna hid a wince and took the spot next to Laurel on the couch. “Where have you been looking?”

“Everywhere?” Laurel shifted so she could look at the cover letter her friend was drafting. “It’s a little hard when I can’t talk much about my only place of employment or use them as a reference.”

“I guess your reputation of taking down corporate big shots isn’t too helpful when applying for corporate law.”

“No, it is not.”

Joanna shook her head. This was so unfair and everyone knew it. “You want me to talk to Eric?”

Laurel shook her head. “It won’t do any good. He’s under the thumb of CNRI’s backers.”

“And those backers want you to starve?”

“They want to see the Hood punished. Since they can’t do that, I guess I’m the next best thing.”

“But you’re more than just a connection to the Hood. If you hadn’t been helping me solve my brother’s murder, nobody would even know you’ve worked with him. None of this would’ve happened.” Joanna hung her head.

“I wouldn’t take it back if it meant not exposing the truth about your brother’s death. Or saving the chief. Those were good things.”

Before Joanna could answer, the bedroom door opened again and Tommy stopped in the sitting room. “I’m heading out.”

Laurel set her laptop aside and stood. “Okay. Did you want me to wait on dinner?”

“I’ll eat while I’m out.” He gave a curt nod to Joanna, then turned and headed to the front door.

Laurel wavered on the balls of her feet. “Have a good day,” she called just before the door shut.

“Does he really have to start at the club that early?”

“His hours are what he wants them to be. And right now, he does not want to be here.” Laurel sighed and dropped back down into her spot. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe… maybe you just take the deal. It’d make things a lot easier for you and your relationship,” she pointed out. It was the practical choice. The safe one. But she knew Laurel was rarely interested in safe or practical.

Her friend looked at her. “Jo, you know as well as I do what lying about the Hood would look like to our clients.”

She grimaced. That was a hard point to refute. Laurel was good at what she did precisely because of the trust she garnered in their clients. They really believed she was willing to put everything on the line in the name of justice. The time had come to prove she was.

“There is one thing about CNRI,” Laurel told her. “Thea. Anastasia has agreed to become her temporary sponsor, but when you go back to work, I’d really appreciate it if you could take over. I feel like Thea could learn a lot from you.”

She felt herself smile. “Yes, of course. Actually, on one condition.” Laurel frowned, but Joanna wasn’t worried. “If you ever need anything, you let me know. A reference, food — my mom misses cooking for a group.”

“I don’t think things are that drastic yet,” Laurel was quick to say.

“You never know. It isn’t exactly cheap to live in this town. Except in the Glades.”

“Yeah,” Laurel agreed quietly. “Thank you for the offer, Jo. Really.”

“I’m your friend, Laurel. It’s what we do. I’m gonna miss you when I go back.”

“You’ll do fine without me.”

“I don’t know. I don’t love the odds,” Joanna told her. Laurel pulled her in for a hug.

“Me neither. But we have to keep fighting.”

She nodded into Laurel’s shoulder. Then she pulled back. “So, jobs. You try the DA’s office yet?”

“Yeah, I think Kate Spencer is my least biggest fan at the moment.”

Joanna couldn’t help a snort. “Yeah. That figures.”

Laurel joined her in laughter. Sometimes that was all you could do.

---

It had taken him practically begging for Laurel to finally come see him at the station. She wouldn’t go to his home, and he knew he still wasn’t welcome in hers. That was assuming it was hers for much longer, the way she was going.

“I don’t get it. I really don’t. They don’t wanna let you go. Nobody wants to see you leave CNRI. You’re the best they got!” He paced back and forth in the space between table and wall of the interrogation room he’d commandeered to try and talk some sense into his daughter. “Why would you throw that away?”

“Because if I agreed to what they’re asking, I wouldn’t be the best anymore. I’d just prove to be susceptible to coercion.”

“Coercion to help control a criminal. That’s not coercion, that’s- that’s cooperating with law enforcement!”

“A lot of people in the Glades see that as the same thing,” she stated while looking straight at him.

“Hey now,” he said, raising a warning finger. “I’m not saying this department is perfect, but you gotta have order in a society. This Hood guy, he’s disrupting that.”

“If it was already so broken, maybe it needed disrupted,” she argued.

Quentin could feel his frustration mounting despite his promise to himself not to get angry with her today. The investors at CNRI were pushing the issue because he’d pushed it first — but there wouldn’t be an issue if she’d just see reason!

They were interrupted by a quick rap on the door and the desk sergeant poking his head in.

“Detective, there’s a woman at the desk asking — well, she called you Laurel Lance’s father,” the sergeant amended with a glance Laurel’s way. “I think she might really be looking for you, Miss.”

Laurel took a step forward, but he said, “Send her back here.”

The desk sergeant left and returned a few minutes later with an older woman with dark skin whose face lit up when she saw his daughter.

“Well, Miss Lance!”

“Hello, Mrs. Ross.” Laurel embraced the other woman, and Quentin tried to remember if she’d been a client or family of one.

“I heard through the grapevine you’d been fired. It’s a disgrace, and after everything you’ve done for that office!”

“Thank you,” His daughter said, a small smile gracing her lips.

“You find some other work yet?”

“Not just yet. Most of the law firms in this city aren’t too keen to attach my name to themselves at the moment.”

“I thought so. Well, they’re all a bunch of thieves anyway. So listen, if you need something to keep you afloat, I’ve been asking around. My neighbor’s aunt has this friend, she’s got a flower shop on Wells and 17th Street, and she’s been looking for a helper for a while now. Arthritis getting bad in her fingers.”

“Oh,” said Laurel. She glanced his way, uncertain. “I’ll have to stop by and introduce myself.”

“Mm-hm. It’s honest work, which beats most things. Gotta put the food on the table.” She looked to him as if expecting to share a grin. Quentin’s lips didn’t even twitch.

Mrs. Ross dropped her gaze to her purse, which she rifled around in. “Here, I wrote the address down for you. You show up anytime and just tell her I sent you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Ross.” Laurel hugged her again. “It means a lot.”

“Well, we all gotta help each other, cause them upstairs never will.” She darted a look in Quentin’s direction and stepped back. “You take care, now.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Mrs. Ross left the room, and the silence in her wake was deafening. Laurel looked down at the paper in her hands, which was really just a way of avoiding looking at him.

“A florist?” He finally asked. “That’s what you’re gonna be now?”

Laurel grimaced. “Has to beat retail, right?”

“Laurel, honey, just be reasonable, alright? No vigilante is worth this much no matter what he’s done.”

“And what am I worth?” Laurel asked. “My word, my integrity. That’s what’s on the line here just as much as his reputation. If your boss asked you to lie about some case just because it would make a few CEOs happy, would you do it, dad?”

If he answered truthfully, it wouldn’t make everything right again. Except: “Lying about a case is a lot different than saying a criminal’s a criminal.”

Laurel shook her head before walking to the door. “The next time you wonder why residents in the Glades don’t trust the cops? Remember that.”

She left without letting him respond. It never helped that the both of them always wanted the last word.

“Detective?”

“What?” He snapped. Kelton just blinked at him, and he sighed. “What was it?”

“The incident report was filed for the, uh, Winick Building use of force.”

He straightened up right away. If he couldn’t save Laurel from her own reckless decisions, he could at least nail the idiot who had hurt her that night. “Well?”

“The rubber bullet came from Officer Daily’s weapon.”

“Daily.” Something had always seemed off about that one. He hadn’t even been one of Quentin’s first picks that night, just volunteered because he was on shift. Probably one of those gun-happy nuts who thought the job was more about shooting people than about keeping the peace. Quentin never minded knocking one of those guys down a peg. “Good work, Kelton.”

He left the interview room and headed to Frank’s office where he rapped on the door. It took a few minutes for his superior to open it.

“Got a minute?”

“I suppose,” Frank Pike sighed. “It’s either now or later with you anyway.”

He showed him in, though Quentin remained standing. “You see the incident report?”

“Well? What’s gonna happen to Daily?”

Frank brought his hands together in a gesture that rarely meant good news. “That’s up to Captain Stein’s decision. From what I understand, there will be no disciplinary action.”

Quentin thought he felt his eyes bug out. “What do you mean, no disciplinary action? The man shot a civilian!”

“It’s a difficult situation, Quentin, one you probably should have thought of before you made your daughter a person of interest to the Taskforce,” Frank pointed out none-too-gently. “Daily believed he was shooting at the vigilante. He has expressed no ill intent towards Laurel or any other civilians since. Laurel didn’t even press charges.”

“And you’re lucky she didn’t since it would’ve exposed us being caught in another lie,” he snarked. “Look, if Stein wants to let the whole thing go, that’s his prerogative. But Daily was under my command that night, so I’ll decide—”

“You won’t go near Daily,” Pike said, standing from his desk. “You won’t speak to him, won’t touch him. It’s a huge conflict of interest, Quentin, one that could see you in front of an ethics committee if Stein decided to pursue the matter.”

Quentin stood there a minute, hardly daring to believe it. Far from threatening him, Frank was trying to protect him, and from his own superior. But he was also protecting an officer who had demonstrated gross misconduct. “You know this isn’t right, though.”

“I know what my orders are. I’m telling you what yours are now. Are we understood?”

Quentin looked down, his jaw working for a moment or so. “Sure.” Then he left the office.

Back at his desk, he checked the incident report. Nowhere in it did it actually confirm that Laurel had been struck by Daily’s bullet; it simply made note that Daily’s gun had been returned with one bullet missing. The official record would never hold him accountable and, apparently, neither would any of them.

Why nobody trusted the cops indeed.

---

It had been a long evening of arguing with the contractors yet again. Tommy had been hoping to be done with that long ago, but thanks to the fire last month, they were still in the building process. It didn’t help matters that Oliver tended to disappear as soon as he turned his back for more than a few minutes. He was just glad to be heading home for one night.

Tommy entered the apartment, frowning as he took in the stripped-down sight of it.

“Laurel?”

“Hey.” She came in from the bedroom, a notepad in one hand and a box under her other arm. It looked to have some of her court suits folded up inside.

“What’s going on?”

“I started an account to sell some extra things for rent this month. Since CNRI is a nonprofit that struggles to stay open as it is, they don’t exactly have severance packages.”

“You’re auctioning off your belongings,” he stated flatly.

“They’re clothes, Tommy, not precious heirlooms.”

“And what about next month’s rent? What’ll you have to give up, then?” Even if Laurel let him cover all of it, they’d barely make it along with food and other expenses. He was too proud to ask Oliver for a raise, especially so soon, and it shouldn’t be necessary. None of this was necessary, but Laurel was stubborn enough to go ahead with it anyway.

She seemed to sense his irritation, for it was apologetic eyes she turned on him. “Next month I’m hoping to be out of here. The landlord already said he’s happy to waive the fee for breaking the lease. I think he’ll be glad to have less attacks.” When he didn’t even crack a smile, Laurel started playing with the hem of her sweater. “I’m taking a job at a flower shop for now. So we’ll have to start looking for something in a cheaper neighborhood.”

A flower shop. That was the next grand step in this plan of hers.

He couldn’t believe this. All this time, he’d seen Laurel as something of an unattainable ideal, with some faults perhaps, but nothing in comparison to his own. While he’d been drinking and sleeping through life, she had followed a path to success. And all of that she was willing to give up for the sake of some killer who had decided to make her a centerpiece for his crazed vendetta on the city. He couldn’t just stand by and watch that happen.

Tommy had been trying to make himself better for her, but it seemed clear to him now that the problems in this relationship weren’t just with him.

“Yeah,” he said at last. “Yeah, we will. But separately.”

“What do you mean?”

He gathered a breath. “I thought I wanted this. You. But I was wrong.”

He walked back towards the bedroom. Laurel set her box down and followed him, her eyes widening as she found him pulling clothes out of the drawer — the drawer he had fought tooth and nail to get only a month ago.

“Tommy, talk to me.”

“Why should I? You haven’t been talking to me. Not about meeting up with the Hood, not about the decisions you’re making with your career, the apartment.”

“My career is my choice,” she argued, yet her shoulders slumped as she added, “But I shouldn’t have lied to you about meeting the Hood. I know that, Tommy. And we can still make this work—”

“Just answer me this,” he said, turning back to her as he shut the drawer. “Would you give up everything you’re giving up right now for me?”

Laurel’s head gave a minute shake. “Why would I need to?”

“Exactly. You wouldn’t, because I would never ask you to. But you’re giving it up for him.”

She frowned. “Tommy, this is about what’s best for the city. Not the Hood.”

“It’s about him for me, Laurel,” he stated. “I’m not stupid. You’re committed to him in a way you’re just not to me. I don’t know why, or what this lunatic has that keeps you so loyal to him.”

“He’s—”

Tommy held up a hand. “I don’t really care anymore. I can’t keep caring when you’re ignoring what’s best for you to keep him going. I’m done, Laurel.”

“Tommy, please.” She followed him back out to the front room. “I need you.”

“If you needed me, you wouldn’t have gone to him in the first place.”

Tommy shut the door behind him. He squeezed his eyes shut to hold back the stinging and the tears, and he walked forward to the elevator. Laurel’s crying grew quieter in his ears the further he got away, but not his mind.

He paused in the elevator, his eyes on the apartment door. Then his phone buzzed in his pocket with a news alert.

Hood attacks Queen family matriarch at QC

Tommy’s eyes narrowed, and he hit the close door button. The Hood was an enemy to the people he cared about, whether they could see it for themselves or not.

---

John worked frantically to restart Oliver’s heart. He didn’t know what had gone wrong, but the machine kept up its flat, dead tone.

At least until Felicity Smoak fixed the wires. It was with relief that he realized there was actually nothing wrong with Oliver. His friend was just resting and recovering.

He and Felicity talked while they waited for Oliver to wake up. John could tell she was searching for some kind of reason to stay and accept what was happening, what she now knew. He did his best to explain his own rationale for helping a vigilante.

But at an extremely late hour, the door upstairs opened, revealing a miserable sight.

John stood up straight. “Laurel? Something wrong?”

“Um, hi, John.” The woman’s eyes were red-rimmed, and her voice came out quiet and a little hoarse. She must have been crying a while.

But when her eyes widened upon spotting Oliver on the table, it was any guess as to the reason. “Oliver. Is he okay? What happened?”

Laurel rushed down to their friend’s side, her hand reaching to take his where it hung limply at his side.

“He took a bullet. Should be okay with time,” John told her.

“It was his mother,” Felicity added.

Laurel looked up sharply. “Mrs. Queen?”

John nodded. “We got some intel that she might know something about his father’s list. He tried asking her about it as himself, but she wouldn’t answer. So then he gave it a try as the Hood.”

“And Mrs. Queen gave a try at putting the Hood down,” Felicity remarked.

“She must’ve panicked. If she’d had any idea,” Laurel said. John just stayed quiet. He knew Laurel didn’t have quite as large a blind spot for the Queen matriarch as Oliver did, but she had grown up knowing the woman. It would likely take some time for her to adjust to the idea that Moira Queen wasn’t all she pretended to be.

Laurel wiped her eyes on her sleeve and turned to Felicity. “Um, sorry. I’m Laurel.”

“I know. I saw you on the news a few weeks ago,” Felicity said. “I’m Felicity. I work at Queen Consolidated, which apparently includes doing odd jobs for vigilantes.” She considered Laurel for a moment. “So you really have known who he is. I was wondering.”

“Just for the last month,” Laurel said.

“Did you need something when you came down here, Laurel?” John asked.

“Oh. Yeah, I was hoping to have a look through Ollie’s list. But it can wait.” She returned her gaze to the man’s prone form.

It was another hour before Oliver stirred. His eyes opened and his hand clenched around Laurel’s. John watched her bite back a gasp.

“Ollie, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

“Laurel?” Oliver’s eyes opened and he looked around at the three of them. His grip eased, and then he was pushing himself up to sitting with one arm.

“Easy there. Try not to aggravate your shoulder,” John advised. “You’ve been out most of the night.”

“What happened?”

“Uh, well, I got you to your secret basement like you asked, John patched you up, I hacked the SCPD database to have them dispose of your DNA sample collected at the crime scene, and then Laurel showed up,” Felicity summarized in one breath.

Oliver turned back to Laurel. “Are you okay?”

She looked ready to laugh in disbelief. “I’m fine. You’re the one with a shoulder wound worse than mine was. How are you going to hide this from your family?”

“I’ll manage.”

“Did you want to see the list now, Laurel?” John asked.

Laurel nodded and stepped back from Oliver’s table. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Why do you need the list?” Oliver asked, frowning as she walked away.

“I wanted to make sure which landlords are on it and which aren’t.” She kept her eyes on the pages she was scanning as she continued, “I’m, um, probably moving to the Glades.”

“What?” Oliver slid off the table and winced as the impact reached his shoulder, but he shook it off. “Laurel, the Glades aren’t safe.”

“Yes, but they’re what I can afford. The only work I’ve found is at a florist’s shop, and if I can walk there instead of using public transit, that’ll save me money, too.”

“That the shop on Wells and 17th?” John asked. He’d noticed the help wanted sign in its window a few times as he’d passed by.

“Uh-huh.”

“Laurel, you’re not a florist,” Oliver said. “You’re a lawyer.”

“Well, there aren’t any law offices that want me. Wish I’d known that before I paid all that money to get the degree,” she remarked. John could see the effort she was going through to keep things light. He still didn’t know what had had her so upset when she arrived. “Okay, so none of the Nickel properties are worth looking into…”

Oliver shook his head. “Those offices will reconsider with time. Look, if you’re that tight for money, I’ll just raise Tommy’s salary so you have more time to look or you can work here with him—”

“Tommy broke up with me,” Laurel stated bluntly, at last looking up from the list. Her mouth pulled down in a terribly sad frown. 

Oliver froze. “He left you?”

“He packed his things and walked out tonight.”

“Because of everything that’s happening.” Oliver looked down for a long moment. “I’ll tell him the truth.”

John’s eyes widened, though before he could speak up Laurel was already replying with common sense.

“No, you can’t. He hates the Hood worse than ever, Ollie. There’s no telling how he’d react.” She heaved a sigh. “And it wouldn’t fix the rest of the problems we’ve had. I gave a relationship with Tommy a shot because I was tired of constantly having to turn him down. And I liked it, but — it’s over now. He can’t agree with my choices, and I can’t force him to.”

There was a heavy silence after those words. John noticed Felicity was busying herself by the table with the newer computers she’d set up, and he had a feeling the woman was desperate to be anywhere but here.

“I can still get you a job. Maybe not at the club, but Queen Consolidated. I’m sure we could find something for you,” Oliver offered.

“After the Hood attacked their CEO?”

John looked down. He could see where this was going, and it didn’t lead to any of Laurel’s problems having an easy fix. That was going to be partly on him since he’d been behind the push to send the Hood after Mrs. Queen, and all for no new information, as it was turning out.

“Oliver, if you want people to believe your cover for not being the Hood, for not even liking him, you can’t have anything to do with me.”

Oliver’s face took on a look of alarm as he started towards her. “Laurel—”

She set the list down and took a step back. “Your mother’s just been attacked by a man you’ve been claiming is insane. If I continue believing in the Hood — which I will, since I know you never meant to hurt your own mother — it would be impossible for you to keep being my friend. We can’t have contact, at least not in public.”

Words were failing Oliver. Combined with his shoulder wound, the man looked absolutely broken. He and the rest of them could only watch as Laurel made her way to the stairs.

“I’m sorry. It was nice meeting you,” she added to Felicity. For one moment, she stared at Oliver with eyes that practically ached. Then she looked down and climbed the staircase, the door closing with finality behind her.

“Well,” Felicity said eventually. “I think I’ll be heading home myself. I’ve got an early morning.” She reached for her coat and started for the door.

“Felicity,” Oliver said quietly. The woman paused. “Thank you for everything you did tonight. I understand it was a lot to bring you in on so quickly.”

“Yeah.” She fiddled with her keys. “Not that I’m not grateful you felt you could finally trust me with the truth about all this. But just, no offense, from where I’m standing, being associated with you seems to destroy a person’s life.”

Oliver stayed silent, not even attempting to argue against that assessment.

“So I’m not going to tell the police about you, and I will work with you to find Walter. But that’s it, and after that we’re done.”

Oliver gave a slow nod. “That’s fine.”

“Okay. Well, goodnight. I’m glad you didn’t die.” She, too, headed up the stairs and at of the foundry.

A very heavy, very uncomfortable silence fell once it was just the two of them. John knew it was up to him to try and bridge it. “Oliver, I’m sorry things worked out like this.”

“What is this like, Diggle?” Oliver asked. “A disaster? Because that’s how it seems to me.”

“You couldn’t have known Tommy was going to call things quits. And that relationship needed to run its course without you anyway.”

“But it’s not without me, John.” Oliver’s look was absolutely guilt-stricken. “Tommy was jealous of the Hood. And with him gone, and her and Lance not speaking, and now this, she’s totally on her own. I did that.”

“A lot of that was Laurel’s choices, too,” he pointed out quietly.

“I forced her into them. I should have realized the danger I was putting her in. The risks. Now it’s too late. But I’m not taking them with anyone else.” Oliver pulled on a sweatshirt, then took two steps towards John, getting right into his space.

“My mother — any of my loved ones, are off limits. For good this time.”

He’d known it was coming, and there was little he could say without them coming to blows over it. And without any more information about this Undertaking, he had no real leverage.

Oliver turned and stormed from the base. John sighed, then got to work finishing cleaning up.

To think things had somehow only gotten worse even after Oliver had been shot.

[theravencawsatmidnight]

Bittersweet Events Pt. 7🗡♥️

A/N. This is loooooong my bad i was on a roll with this. Stain in a pony tail umf—-

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Bonus bio!

Shifuku Akaguro

Hair. Blond

Age. 5

Likes: Dragging her dad to the park and teasing Spinner. Hero shows. Acrobatics.

Quirk . Petrify

She can make people pass out if she licks/taste their blood . Her gaze can make people bleed from their eyes and caugh up blood.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Shifuku was still un easy about her quirk. After Stain had explained to her that she could not take the mask off she changed ..She was not her happy energenic self anymore . Stain caught her a couple times with her mask off staring in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes would be bloodshot and her tears wiould be red. He tried not to scold her, he really did. But it was getting to him. He had no idea what to do to cheer her up. It was a .. similar quirk to his but more advanced. Stain’s quirk could paralize people when he tasted their blood. And his gaze could paralize people. Shifuku’s quirk could make people pass out if she tasted their blood , and her gaze could also paralize people but it made their eyes bleed too and caugh up blood. He decided to call her quirk Petrify.

He had to think of something , he loved seeing her smile . It reminded him of Suki. Spinner suggested maybe taking her shopping to get new clothes. Stain thought on it for awhile. He had money , the landlord paid him whenever he scared off a villain. It made him feel like a Hero and he did not like it. He was a retired villain now with a daughter. So he had to deal with it. Maybe shopping would be okay . Getting her out of the complex would be good for her too. He was home schooling her so she did not leave much unless she begged him to take her to the park. He saw that it was taking a toll on her . He often found her peaking out the window at the kids every morning . Watching them go to school.

How exactly would he even set that up? Just casually walk into the school and say ‘hi im Hero Killer Stain i want to enroll my daughter’. He had no idea what to do. He was nervous how the other kids would treat her. How the teachers and parents would treat her. Her quirk may be new but its already dangerous. But at the same time she needed the socialization with kids her age. Suki would want her in school.. and happy.

It had been five years since he retired. The reaction from the villains and the Pros was.. interesting. A few villains wanted to know why . He told a select few. Only true villains. Deku figured it out and thats how the Pros found out. His retirement was all over the news too. It was a breath of relief for the public , but some did not believe he was actually retired. Eventually everyone would know why. And that was what worried Stain the most.

Stain was on the couch watching the news with Shifuku next to him looking at her mask. It was Stain’s mask . He offered to get her a pretty one thinking it would help but she liked his , just not her quirk. She tugged his shirt and Stain looked down at her seeing her blood shot eyes. He put the mask back on her and pulled her on his lap.

“Papa ?”

“Yes my little gaze killer?”

“Can we .. go to the park?”

“Ya know Spinner suggested i take you shopping. Wanna do that too?”

She smiled a bit and touched her mask. “It will be okay?”

“Yes Shifuku. You just need to remember this mask never comes off.”

“Because.. it would hurt people.”

“Yes Shifuku. Youre quirk is amazing. I know you dont believe me but a lot of villains would like to have youre quirk.”

“....would mama like it though..”

Red tears fell down her face and Stain clung to her squeezing tight. What was he saying? Villains would love her quirk? He decided years ago that.. if she wanted to... be a Hero he would support it. Shifuku never mentioned that she wanted to be a villain. He often found her watching Hero shows with Spinner . And Suki... Suki would love her no matter what.

“Shifuku.. mom would love it. Because its just like mine. Youre mother loved my quirk because uh well... uh.. it was unique. Yeah. And my gaze did not effect her”

“It didint Papa?”

He held her close standing up walking to the door opening it. “Nope. She pulled my mask off one day and nothing happened. “ he put her down and pulled a hair tie out of his pocket putting his hair in a ponytail. Shifuku grabbed his hand wiping her face on it .

“ okay.. ill try Papa.”

He brought her outside and gave any passerbys a dirty look. He had given up on a disguise about a year ago. Its hard to mistake someone with no nose. He still kept the tape on his face though , he liked it. And since Shifuku had his mask now he had to make another one. He also retired his costume and wore dad clothes everyday. Spinner teased him about it sometimes and Stain would go change into sweatpants and a sleeveless hoodie . But that did not mean be didint keep a couple knives on him. Today though he had on a black long sleeve and ripped black jeans with bleach stains on them . He replaced his spike boots for regular heavy black combat boots.

Stain decided to go to the store first. Shifuku held his hand with both of hers whenever they went out. No one bothered them obviously but every now and then a villain would say hi or wave. Shifuku figured out Stain was a Villain fast. She also found a documentary about him on tv . Spinner was asleep instead of watching her when she found it. Stain was furious but what could he really do.

They made it to the clothing store and Stain looked over at the clerk. She jumped putting her hands up . Stain rolled his eyes looking down. “Pick out a couple things. Shirts, pants.”

Shifuku looked all around then up at Stain asking him for a dress. His eyes got wide . Thats too much he thought. She is growing up too fast.

“Just one.” He said

She smiled a bit tugging him farther into the store to get a better look at the clothes. Stain glanced back over at the clerk too see that she was calm now. Infact she looked like she was happy. He rolled his eyes looking back down at Shifuku . She had a couple shirts and a pair of pants and a blood red dress.

“Matches the mask” he teased.

Shifuku blushed handing him the clothes and Stain went to check out. The clerk was a little timid, not everyday you see a S rank villain buying a dress for his daughter.

“Uhm..we have a rewards.. program..” she said folding the clothes.

“A what?” He asked

She jumped putting the clothes in the bag . “Its a little.. tag we scan it and you get points for sales and deals..”

“Uhm .. sure”

Stain had a pink tag attached to his keychain now.

Shifuku tugged Stain out of the store dragging him to the park now . He let her , he didint mind. Suki did the same thing whenever she made him go out forva date night. Those were always interesting. It was always fast food and sitting in Suki’s car. Sometimes Stain would go in to get the food. That was interesting. And funny to Suki.

Stain sat down on the bench and Shifuku ran off to the play scape. He leaned into the bench looking the bag over . It was pink all over with flowers. No one else was at the park except for another parent and their kid who was on the swings. He could not make out who the parent was , they were too far away. The kid jumped off the swing floating to the play scape. The parent freaked out following with their hands up. Stain reckognized the voice and got up running to his daughter.

The kid landed next to Shifuku and introduced themselves.

“Names Ura Midoriya, Hi!” She held her hand out.

Shifuku touched her mask all over making sure it was still on before she held her hand out. Ura shook it fast and Shifuku started to levitate. Stain grabbed her setting her back down. The parent came over too.

“Sorry!!! She just got her.... quirk. Stain?” Asked Deku

“Deku...” Stain said under his breath.

“Deku? Youre Deku!! “ Shifuku beamed. “Youre so cool!!!”

“Right?!? Dad is so cool!!” Ura agreed.

Deku tried to get his daughter to stop and Stain pulled Shifuku back to him making her look up.

“Papa?”

Deku looked over at Shifuku then Stain a couple times , so he wasint lying..

“Uhm.. Chi..Chizome . Nice to see you.” Deku said as calmly as he could.

“Likewise..” Stain added.

“Uhm well Ura its getting late .” He turned her and she slipped outta his arms to wave at Shifuku.

“Bye!!! Can we play again? “ she asked

Stain was about to say no but he felt Shifuku leave his grip on her. He watched her wave back with a smile on her face.

“Im sure we can set something up.” Stain said

Deku was dumbfounded right now. The Hero Killer Stain... setting up a playdate.

“Oh oh okay! Sure yeah we can do that! Now cmon Ura” he waved taking her away and Shifuku jumped excited.

“Do you want to go to school Shifuku...” he asked looking down at her.

“Yes! Yes please!!!”

He sighed heavilly. “Alright.”