#i think i heard it was because people were harassing thomas or some shit and it's like we really can't have shit in this fandom

[where-are-the-spooky-gays-2]

Remus could like actually have a pole..I mean..

E X A C T L Y!!! We were so robbed when those pics got deleted!!!

[lilfellasblog]

Tolerable

Summary: Virgil's been accepted by Thomas and the famILY, even after they found out his secret. But will this be too much for them to handle? Or: Virgil has endometriosis, thinks he has to hide it, and that works out as well for him as you think it will.

A/N: If you liked this, please reblog. It is the only way to help this fic reach a wider audience.

TW: Past bullying and harassment mentioned, endometriosis, menstruation, this is a sick!fic, painful cramps, unsympathetic dark sides.

Word Count: 2351

AO3 here!

Fic Masterlist here!

Virgil groaned and curled into himself. Not for the first time, he cursed the Mindscape’s sick sense of humor for not only making him the only trans Side, but also for giving him the period from hell. After researching his symptoms and checking in the Subconscious (he tried not to think about how he could see everything in there), he had discovered he had endometriosis. It certainly explained what he’d been experiencing. He didn’t even want to think about the number of tampons and pads he burned through. Alternating ibuprofen and acetaminophen could only take the edge off so much. The websites he visited suggested some, ahem, all-natural pain remedies, but Virgil was the opposite of in the mood when he was on his period. He felt tired and dizzy and light-headed and nauseous, and he always seemed to get migraines at the same time of his period because apparently God hated him personally.

He ground a fist into his lower abdomen during a particularly painful cramp that felt like his internal organs were ripping each other in half, and kept it there until the pain subsided somewhat. He wasn’t sure why, but pressing his knuckles into the spot where he felt the most pain seemed to help lessen the severity of that particular wave.

Virgil sighed, trying to figure out if he wanted to ask the others for help. He was exhausted, having dealt with this for a day already on his own. They’d all accepted him, including Thomas (thank fuck), but he didn’t know if they wanted to deal with everything that came with him being a trans guy. Yet, now that they knew, even though he’s dealt with this on his own before, being alone feels even harder.

What if they’re grossed out? They weren’t grossed out by me being trans, they seemed sad whenever I had even asked, but this is… yeah. I don’t know, I don’t want to push it. Just as he finished that thought, an excruciating pain ripped through him. He bit his knuckle and held his breath to keep from crying out.

“Virgil? You okay in there buddy? You missed breakfast, so I brought some up if you want any,” Patton offered through the door.

Virgil had to breathe through his nose to battle his nausea at the thought of breakfast food. “Thanks Pat. I’m good, just not feeling too well. I’ll be fine in a bit.” It’ll be manageable in a few days.

“Oh honey, I’m sorry to hear that! Is there anything I can do? Would soup help?”

Actually… “Yeah, I think I might be able to handle soup.”

“One bowl of soup, coming right up!”

“Thanks Pat.”

“Anytime!”

Despite his pain, Virgil smiled fondly. He’s too good for me. Before, if he’d shown any indication that he was on his period, the consequences would be more pain, some kind of humiliation, and a nightmare sequence courtesy of Remus that always lasted so long he’d bleed over.

Virgil rode out the waves of pain, unable to concentrate enough to follow Buzzfeed Unsolved, until Patton knocked on his door again.

“Virge? I have your soup,” Patton called quietly.

“Alri-” Virgil’s voice cut off as he was bowled over by a powerful tearing sensation that left him seeing stars.

“Virgil? You okay in there? Are you hurt?” Patton called, much more loudly this time.

Shitshitshit, I can’t let him see me, he’ll know I’m in pain and he’ll ask why and then I’ll have to tell him.

“I’m worried you’re hurt or unconscious, can you answer me?”

Virgil took a few deep breaths. “I’m here,” he croaked out.

“Oh honey, you sound like you’re in so much pain! Are you okay?!”

Since he wasn’t holding his breath, a pained keen left him against his will.

“I’m coming in.”

Fuck.

Virgil tried to uncurl his body, but he couldn’t find the willpower to counter the pain. As soon as Patton caught sight of him, he quickly set the bowl of soup (with crackers and cheese, Virgil noticed) on the nightstand and rushed over.

“It’s okay, I’m here. What’s wrong? You look and sound like you’re in so much pain!”

The worst of it passed, and Virgil managed to relax his body a bit. “I’m okay, I’m… kind of used to it.”

Patton’s expression darkened. “Did they hurt you again?” he asked, voice nearly a growl.

“No, nothing like that!” Virgil quickly promised. Patton sagged in relief.

“Thank goodness.” Patton frowned. “This has happened before? Do you have a stomach bug?”

Virgil thought about lying for a brief moment, but was too scared of accidentally summoning Janus to risk it. “No…”

He cursed when Patton’s puppy dog eyes came in full-force. “Is it something bad?”

Just as Virgil was about to hedge around the answer, he felt a telltale dampness. “Uh, nothing dangerous for us since we’re Sides, but I do need to go to the bathroom.”

Patton immediately scooted aside. “Okay! I’ll be here when you get back,” he reassured.

Shit. “Thanks.”

Virgil uncurled himself from his position on the bed, then carefully made his way to the bathroom. He cleaned himself up since he had bled over a bit, changed out his pad and tampon. Just as he was about to flush away the bloody water and toilet paper, there was urgent knocking at the door.

“Virgil, are you okay?!”

Virgil was a little annoyed, but knew to rein himself in. “Yeah Pat, I’m good, just about to wash my hands.”

“Sweetie, are you sure? There’s blood on the bed.”

OH FUCK.

“Um, I’ll be out a in a minute.”

Think think think think THINK!! Okay, what can I tell him? I could just fudge the truth a little bit, but that might be too close to a lie. I could just tell him I don’t want to tell him, but he’d be so sad that I don’t trust him and he deserves better than that. Shiiiiiiiiiiit.

Realizing he’d been staring into space, he dried his hands, then went out to face the music.

Patton was studying the comforter that had gotten stained, and looked up and smiled at Virgil as he emerged. “Hey Virge, I was just gonna wash this for you, is that okay?”

Virgil could feel another wave coming on. “Yeah, but you don’t have to.” Let me lie down so I don’t double over in front of you.

Patton waved him off. “Nonsense, you’re sick and I wanna help!”

SHIT. “Okay, I can help get it off.”

“Sure!”

Virgil frantically tugged at the comforter, while Patton calmly gathered it up in his arms. As soon as the comforter was off the bed, Virgil laid down and curled up, hopefully in a way that made it look like he was just lying down.

“Virgil, can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer!”

Virgil assessed Patton. Patton was looking nervous himself, biting his lip and eyes averting themselves.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Patton took a deep breath. “Well, I know you’re in a lot of pain, you’re not feeling well, you said it’s happened before, and there’s blood that you don’t seem too worried about.” He fidgeted uncomfortably, trying to figure out how to ask. “Is there anything I can do to help with… this?”

Virgil sighed. Of course he’d figure it out. “Honestly, the soup is more than what I usually get-”

“What?!” Patton cried.

Oops.

“Um, usually I just kinda deal with it on my own?”

Virgil kicked himself for the devastated look on Patton’s face. “Oh Virge…”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind dealing with it by myself!”

“I know, but you shouldn’t have to! And you don’t have to anymore!” Patton declared. “You’re in so much pain, is that normal? Is there anything we can do to help?”

“Normal for me, yeah, and I don’t think so.”

“Normal for you? Why just you, are you in more pain than other people who get periods?”

Way to put it on the nose Patton. “I-”

“What’s this regarding?” Logan asked as he walked in.

Patton didn’t close the door, shit!! “Nothing!”

“Patton seemed to be implying that you’re in a great deal of pain-”

“WHO DARES HARM YOU?!” Roman thundered, sword already drawn.

GODAMMIT. “NO ONE. Okay, Jesus Christ. Look, I’m fine, I’ve just got the period from hell. I’m sorry you guys found out, I didn’t mean to, I’m fine dealing with this on my own, I know it’s weird and-” Virgil cut himself off at the sorrowful looks he was getting. He sighed. These guys aren’t the Dark Sides, they probably don’t think it’s weird and gross and something I’m doing to them on purpose. “Sorry. Just, I have this thing that makes this harder, I can’t think of the name because I can’t think during this, and I’m fine. I’m just miserable for a week and then it’s manageable. This is better treatment than I usually get, and now I can at least get food. Just ignore me.” Virgil cursed God as another devastating cramp chose that specific moment to be an asshole. He held his breath, but couldn’t stop from curling in on himself. Concerned Patton noises could be heard, and Logan was trying to encourage Virgil to breathe. Roman just stood there, feeling helpless.

Once it passed, Virgil unclenched and took a few breaths. “Sorry,” he panted.

“Please do not apologize. Average menstrual cramps-” Virgil winced. “-have been shown to be at a similar pain level as a heart attack, and it sounds like you experience more severe cramping. If you wish to be left alone, then we will respect that,” Logan stated, agreements coming from each of the other Sides. “But there is still the concern of unusual pain. Do you require pain medication?”

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah, it helps me not lose my mind, but it can only do so much. I’m on the max dose for ibuprofen and tylenol right now, and I’m alternating them.”

Logan frowned. “This is your pain level even with medication?”

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah, it’s this thing that starts with an “e”… shit, what is it…”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up. “Endometriosis?”

“Yeah!” Virgil squinted. “How the hell did you know that?”

“I’m Thomas’ center of knowledge. Gracious, Virgil…” Logan trailed off. “Has a TENS unit ever proven helpful?”

“A what?”

Logan straightened up. “A TENS unit administers small electrical pulses to pain points or trigger points via electrodes placed on the skin. Research, as well as personal anecdotes, have shown them to be effective in combating menstrual pain. Would you like me to conjure one for you?”

Whatever, worst thing that might happen is it could hurt worse for a few seconds. “Sure, why not.”

Logan closed his eyes, and a few seconds later a rectangular device with a bunch of wires coming out of it appeared. “Would you like me to apply the electrodes, or would you like to?”

The thought of someone touching his bare skin, especially where he was in so much pain, still scared him, even though he knew these weren’t the Dark Sides. “I can put it on.”

No one said anything as Virgil rolled over to his side and placed the electrodes where Logan instructed. He turned back over, blushing slightly and feeling weird. He could feel another bad one coming on, and he hoped that this would work. Logan handed Virgil the unit.

“There are a few levels of electricity. Since this is your first time, it’s recommended you start at 1 and see if you need to increase from there.”

Before the next bastard cramp could come to do its damage, Virgil just nodded and turned on the device, bracing himself for electrocution pain. Instead, the cramps was… not as bad? It still hurt like a motherfucker, but it wasn’t as godawful as it could be. He cranked it up a few more dials, and the pain dimmed to a level he couldn’t remember ever feeling.

His eyes widened as he uncurled and sat up, jaw slack. The pain was still there, and he could still tell that his muscles were freaking the fuck out, but the pain was down so much he could almost ignore it.

So Logan just made my life about a thousand times better. How do I let him know?

“What kind of bullshit wizard magic is this?” Nice, REAL kind of you to say after Logan literally changed your life.

Logan just did his proud little smirk of his and drew his shoulders back. “No magic involved, merely science, and,” he adjusted one side of his glasses. “logic.”

Virgil sighed, still light-headed and dizzy, but the amount of relief that flooded his body without the pain was helping him feel so much better.

Logan frowned. “If you’ll excuse me, Thomas requires my help with a business e-mail.”

Virgil looked out through Thomas’ eyes and Sanders what the HELL. “Yeah, you’d better go deal with that.”

Patton waved his hand over the bowl of soup to warm it. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Virgil fidgeted. “Not to be a stereotype, but I’m currently willing to commit homicide for chocolate.”

In the next moment, Virgil found his lap full of his favorite dark chocolate-sea salt-almond bars.

“I should probably go too, make sure Thomathy gets the tone of the e-mail right,” Patton said regretfully.

Virgil waved him off. “No worries, go do your thing.”

“I’ll keep our brave knight company!” Roman declared.

Patton said goodbye and sank out. Roman and Virgil stared at each other.

Roman broke first. “Soooo, friendo…”

Virgil sighed, putting Roman out of his misery. “I don’t usually feel like being a people, but this TENS unit thing is really helping. I’d be down to play some video games after lunch.”

“Sounds wonderful! I’ll get the game set up!” Roman sank out with his usual flair.

Virgil snorted and shook his head. Thank god for TENS units.

He flushed as he thought to himself, Thank god for famILY.

[astralaffairs]

think of it as like an au or something, but I'm just curious to see how president thom would react to seeing someone forcing themselves on mc at like a state dinner if they're not together, i feel like he'd try to stand up for her but also it'd be kinda sus of the president standing up for some press figure who's been talking shit abt him

i love this concept omg. i got an ask similar to this a while back, so i’ve been sitting on a lot of ideas for it. tbh thomas would hardly be able to restrain himself from fucking throttling whoever’s harassing mc, but he isn’t gonna refrain from stepping in. anyway, his standing up for her then makes the media hail him as a feminist icon for like the next 3 weeks

this broke my heart to write tho lowkey </3

-----

"You're… you're Y/N L/N, aren't you? With the Washington Post?"

Y/N had been sour all night. Her feet were cramping in her heels, the tag on her dress was starting to itch, and worst of all, her editor had forced her to take the invite Alex had extended her to the state dinner. She’d had no plans of interacting with the Jefferson administration — in fact, her plan had been to stay as far from them as possible so that she could focus on work, but she mentioned the state dinner offhandedly to a coworker, another had overheard, and the next thing she knew, her boss had found out.

Moreover, she was fairly certain that Thom– no, President Jefferson had only invited Alex to antagonize him, so it was no wonder he didn’t want to go. However, when he gave her the invite, she protested that, since it wasn’t addressed to her, she couldn’t go, and she certainly couldn’t go without him, but both Alex and her editor had insisted it’d be fine. There would be enough people present that she’d slip under the radar, so what was the harm?

And slip under the radar she did. As Vice President and Second Lady, James and Dolley were unattainable company for the evening; they were busy with the heads of PACs, with senators, with members of the State Department. The latter group included Lafayette — he’d been promoted not long after President Jefferson took office, which ruled him, too, out of her options for who she could hang out with. He was off wooing foreign diplomats.

So, there she was, standing alone at the side of the room with her expensive champagne (there was an open bar, thank god) and the small-but-growing pile of business cards she’d collected throughout the night.

At least, she was alone until the anonymous man in question approached her. She turned to him with her eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m Y/N,” she said, surprised that she’d been recognized. “I’m not with the Post, anymore, though.”

“Of course. My mistake,” he apologized, and when he extended to her a hand to shake, she stuffed her newly-acquired business cards back into her purse “I’m Richard Lestrade. I work in the Department of Defense.”

“Nice to meet you.” She had little interest in chatting with him, but she politely shook his hand. “What can I do for you?”

He laughed softly, but it made Y/N raise an eyebrow. “I don’t have some kind of agenda. I just recognized you from your time as a news analyst and thought I’d come introduce myself.”

“Of course.”

She only responded so as to placate him, and she thought that how curt her reply was would deter him from trying to strike up a conversation. She met his eyes with an expectant eyebrow raised as she took another sip from her champagne.

“So how’d you get an invite here tonight?” he asked after a moment. “I mean, I was invited because I work for him, working on naval strategy and all, so it’s just a perk of the job, but I’m surprised to see you. With how much you’ve done to keep President Jefferson from being elected, I wouldn’t think you’d end up on the guest list for state dinners.”

She shrugged. “Alexander Hamilton invited me, actually.”

“Secretary Hamilton was invited? Really?” At that, the disbelief in Richard’s expression was almost patronizing. “Wow, I didn’t hear that he and President Jefferson had buried the hatchet. I always thought they were rivals, or even enemies.”

“Oh, make no mistake, they hate each other,” she said coolly.

“So why would Secretary Hamilton be invited?”

“So Jefferson could rub it in his face that he won the election.” She shrugged, turning back to face the room before them, but Richard seemed surprised.

“No, no, he wouldn’t be that petty,” he scoffed, but his tone was condescending, as though her theory had absolutely no foundation. “He’s the president. I think he has higher priorities than antagonizing someone who’s old news.”

Y/N resisted rolling her eyes at his calling Alex ‘old news,’ as though Richard was somehow a higher calibre of invitee to the state dinner. “You underestimate how catty politicians are. Jefferson included.”

“President Jefferson,” he corrected her, and she gave him a sidelong glance, eyeing him warily.

“Sure.”

“But anyway, I suppose I’m glad President Jefferson invited Hamilton, if it means you’re here, too.”  Richard raised his glass to her as though in tribute, and she was sure the smile she offered him came off as more of a grimace. She had little appreciation for his heavy-handed advance.

“That’s nice of you to say,” she replied mildly before draining the remainder of her glass. She turned to him with a nonchalant, nearly-blank expression. “And as great as it’s been to meet you, I think I have to run. I’m heading out soon and need to say a few goodbyes.” Truthfully, she had no intention of leaving. Her editor would have her head if he found out she cut bait so early in the night, and if she fled before Jefferson addressed the entire room, she wouldn’t be able to provide her boss with the synopsis of the presidential address. She only wanted to leave that conversation.

“You’re leaving so early? Why’s that?”

She shrugged. “I suppose the Jefferson Administration isn’t really my scene. I’ll see you around, Mr. Lestrade.”

“Please, it’s Richard,” he corrected her. “But you should stay longer. If you leave now, you’ll miss President Jefferson’s address.”

What was it with this guy and using Jefferson’s full title? “Please, consider for a moment that missing it may be entirely the point,” she said dryly, and Richard gave a light laugh.

“Oh, please. I’m sure that even a democrat like you can appreciate a good speech.” ‘Even a democrat like her’? What was that supposed to mean? “As a journalist, this should be right up your alley.”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to find the transcript online in a few hours. I’ll survive.”

“It’ll have a much greater impact in person,” he countered, and she sighed. “So, please, stay. Can I get you a drink? What are you drinking?”

“Thanks, but I’m okay,” she said. As though she was about to let a man she’d met only minutes before handle her drink. That would be a recipe for disaster. “I really should get going.”

“No, wait,” he protested, and when she began walking away from him anyway, he caught her by the arm, pulled her back. She turned back to him with an expectant expression, trying to quell the anger building in her chest. “You can’t leave yet; dinner hasn’t even been served.”

“I can fend for myself on that front,” she assured him, and although her teeth were clenched, she plastered on a smile. “So if you’d kindly let go of my arm, I’m going to be on my way.”

“I was hoping to get to know you, actually.” He released her, but her immediately marching off toward the center of the room caught him off guard. “No, wait!” She stifled a groan when she heard him hurrying after her, and as he came to a stop in front of her, blocking her path, she narrowed her eyes. “Come on, Y/N. Come sit down with me and some of my friends; it’ll be a nice time, okay? I’m a nice guy.” He wore a hopeful smile, apparently convinced of his words as she folded her arms.

“I’m sure you are, but I need to get back to my table to retrieve my coat,” she said apologetically. Her anger didn’t show on her face, thankfully. “So I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“Oh, sure you can; you’re just being stubborn,” he insisted. He took a step forward toward Y/N, and she took a step back. “Now, I know we’re from opposite parties, and all, but I’ve been a fan of your reporting for a long time, and I’d really appreciate it if you just came and sat down with us for a few minutes. You and I have a lot in common. I have a feeling we’d hit it off.”

The coy smile he wore made her want to grimace, and when he added a wink, she did grimace, visibly. “This is nice and all, but I’m not really interested.”

“Sure, because you don’t know me yet,” Richard countered, and he took another step toward her, grabbing her by the elbow as he came to stand next to her. Y/N could feel her heart pounding as he forcibly turned her, pointed out his table. “Let’s go. We’re sitting right over there.”

“No, really, I’d rather not,” she repeated, and as she tried to pull her arm away from his grip, he pulled her toward him with an arm around her waist — it was then she realized she couldn’t do nearly anything about it without making a scene. And given her history, a scene was the last thing she wanted. “Please let go of me.”

“You don’t have to stay long; I’m not asking much.” It was then that he began leading her toward the table, and as she stumbled alongside him, panic was rising in her chest. She was looking around for some way out, some familiar face — Dolley, Lafayette, someone — but nobody appeared. “Just have a seat. Let me get you a drink.”

And there he was, repeating his offer. No matter who it was, the insistence on drinking with her would make her wary, but this man already had worry building in her throat, so the feeling only compounded with his words. “I don’t want to come with you. Get your hands off of me.” He didn’t stop, though, and she finally had to dig in her heels, trying to pull back from him. She knew he was stronger than her, but her resistance to him dragging her along certainly grabbed his attention. Richard frowned.

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a–”

“‘M fairly sure I heard her tellin’ you to let go of her.” The voice was stern, and it made both her and Richard freeze, and for entirely different reasons. Y/N would’ve been able to recognize it anywhere, the southern drawl, the lazy enunciation, and her pulse was then spiking for an entirely different reason. Richard turned immediately toward the sound, releasing her, but Y/N stayed put.

“Mr. President,” Richard said breathlessly, his eyes wide. “It’s an honor to meet you; I–”

“What’s your name?”

“Richard Lestrade, sir.” He sounded excited to have courted Jefferson’s attention, apparently oblivious to the undertone of anger in his voice. Y/N recognized it clearly, though, too clearly, and it made her sick to her stomach. She resented the familiarity.

“D’you work here, Mr. Lestrade?”

“I work for the Department of Defense, sir. I’m a naval strategist. Graduated top of my class from the US Naval Academy; I actually helped plan the–”

“I don’t remember askin’ for your resume.” Then, the annoyance Jefferson exuded was clear, unmistakable in his snarky interjection. Y/N had to purse her lips to keep herself from laughing, especially as she glanced over at Richard and found him pale as a ghost.

“Of course not, sir. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizin’ to, now,” Jefferson said frankly, and Y/N didn’t see him watching her until she reluctantly turned, glancing between him and Lestrade. “Ms. Y/N L/N, correct?” he asked, and she nearly winced.

“Yes, that’s me.” Her strained smile was fooling nobody, but when he saw it, Jefferson’s composure didn’t waver.

“Did I hear you tellin’ Mr. Lestrade not to touch you?”

When he addressed her, she forced herself to shake her nerves, he jumbled emotions, off for the time being, and she pushed her shoulders back, presenting a front of confidence.

“You did, as a matter of fact.” She looked up tentatively to meet his eyes — and she immediately wished she hadn’t. While his expression exuded nonchalance, his casual authority over the situation, she knew him well enough to recognize the concern in his eyes: his forehead was creased almost imperceptibly, one eyebrow was quirked up, and one corner of his mouth twitched down. Her jaw tensed as she swallowed her heartache.

She was grateful that he then turned back to Richard. “Care to explain yourself, Mr. Lestrade?”

The interaction had stirred a bit of a crowd around them by then; the others in their immediate vicinity had ended their conversations at once upon hearing the confrontation, but the hush seemed to be spreading further across the room, and Richard was glancing left and right as he gaped at Jefferson. “Oh, no, it was just a misunderstanding. Look–”

“I’m not sure it was,” Jefferson cut him off, and his tone was biting. “Forgive me if this is too presumptuous, but I don’t think there’s anything unclear about a woman tellin’ you to take your hands off of her.”

“We were just chatting.”

“That wasn’t what it looked like,” Jefferson said, folding his arms. “From where I was standin’, it seemed like you grabbed a woman against her will, and you refused to let go. ‘S that accurate, Ms. L/N?”

She wished desperately that he’d stop addressing her. Her throat went dry as he all but admitted he’d been watching her, and she could only nod, unable to find her voice. Thankfully, he took that as enough of an answer.

“I never meant to hurt Y/N, sir. Honestly, I’m so sorry if I did–” Richard turned to Y/N. “I’m so sorry if I hurt you, but my intention wasn’t–”

“You blatantly ignored me telling you to stop,” she said. His speaking to Y/N once again made her blood boil, and she couldn’t help but snap at him, despite how lightly she felt herself to be treading in present company. “Don’t pretend like this was some unfortunate accident.”

Lestrade went from gaping at Jefferson to gaping at her, then. “I… I’m sorry, again, but come on, you know I was just trying to be friendly,” he defended, and she rolled her eyes, getting tired of his excuse. The edge of aggression in his tone made her take a wary step away from him, though. “I invited you to–”

“You said you work for the Department of Defense, correct?” Jefferson cut him off, diverting his attention from Y/N, and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, silently thanking him for bailing her out.

“Yes, sir.” Lestrade offered a weak smile, but his fear was obvious in how he was holding himself. Jefferson regarded him with an air of disgust, looking him up and down.

“Well, you don’t anymore.” Y/N’s eyes widened at the declaration, but President Jefferson paid her no mind. “ I’ll be in touch with your supervisor to have you dismissed.”

“What?” Lestrade asked, “but, sir, that’s my job. I need to–”

“Not anymore, it isn’t.” President Jefferson’s words were firm. “Now, please, I’d like to ask you to leave now so it isn’t necessary for me to have you shown out with a security detail.”

Lestrade froze, and for a moment, Y/N expected him to protest, but when he saw all the people around them watching him, anticipating his next move, he turned on his heel, flushing bright red, and started toward the exit. Y/N and Jefferson were both scowling as they watched him leave.

However, it wasn’t long before Jefferson turned to Y/N, although she hadn’t turned back to face him.

“Are you alright, Ms. L/N?” he asked mildly, and she was sure her surprise pertaining to the whole situation was written across her face when she met his gaze. She nodded hesitantly. “I’d appreciate hearin’ you say it.”

“I’m just fine,” she assured him, voice shaky, and his tense shoulders relaxed, although he didn’t look fully convinced. “But thanks for your concern, really, Thom– sorry, Secretary– I mean, President Jefferson.”

She saw the corners of his lips twitch up when she almost called him Thomas.

"Of course. Let me know if there's anything I can do." His words were wary, careful not to cross any lines or to impose upon her, but she smiled.

"I think that firing Mr. Lestrade on sight was quite enough," she said, and when a grin split Thomas’s– President Jefferson's worried expression, her stomach turned; her smile was strained. Everything about him felt too familiar, painfully familiar.

"Fair enough,” he acquiesced. At how ill-at-ease she appeared, though, his smile wavered. “Hope I didn't go overboard."

She shrugged. "He deserved it."

Thomas Jefferson laughed, and the sound was as warm as she remembered it being. She hadn’t heard it in person in nearly three years, and for her to have come across him so suddenly, it was jarring. She was quite sure she was going to be sick.

“I s’pose you’re right.” By then, those around them had begun to disperse, so after glancing left and right, he took a step closer to her, furrowed his brow, and every muscle in her body tensed. Yet, she didn’t move away. His voice was soft, gentle when he asked. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, swallowing hard. “Don’t you have some politicians to get back to?”

He pursed his lips, and she was sure the tense grief in her expression wasn’t hidden as well as she’d have liked it to be. “I guess so,” he finally said, but he didn’t move, looking her over, and his voice was quiet when he said, “‘S good to see you, though. You look good.”

“Yeah, you too,” was all she could manage in response. He gave her a sad smile, nodded, and the silence between them stretched on Just as she thought he was about to turn, head back to where he’d been previously, he stopped himself.

“Will I see you around?”

The hope in his voice made her throat tighten, and she took a deep, shaky breath. She shook her head, and her voice nearly broke when she answered, “I don’t think you will.”

[achliegh]

Golden

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Beta: @the-most-slyterin-hufflepuff & @punkkkboi

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death/suicide, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Chapter 7:

Fast!

Bar Playlist: Youtube, Spotify

Fishing In the Dark

“Okay Logan, we are going to be on Peanut together. Sound good?” Leo held a kiss dazed Logan’s face in his hands as they spent the last hour convincing Logan to go on the trail ride with them. Kissing him until he couldn’t focus on his fear was seeming to work the best. Finn got in on it too before he had gotten on his own horse, along with most of the team. Celeste and Dumo decided to stay behind and help Judy clean up.

Leading a still dazed Logan over to Peanut he helps him up, Leo following soon after. Hands under Logan's arms holding the reins. Lo was leaning back into Leo’s chest and only noticed they were on a living vehicle when said vehicle started moving to join the others.

Leo rubbed a soothing hand over his side to let him know he was okay. Finn and Clay trotted over to Leo and Logan with a smile on their faces. There was a brown Burmese cat that was lazily stretched across Leroy’s rear behind Clay.

“It’s about time! From what I’ve heard Logan is pretty good at riding, should transfer over to equine.” Clay winks and Logan smacks Leo’s arm as he tries to hide his laugh. “Just know that Leo tells me everything… even stuff I don’t want to know. But I do the same with him.” Clay shrugs and turns around going over to Thomas, Noelle and Reg, the cat just fully relaxed as Leroy bumped it around.

“How long have you had him?” Thomas vaguely gestures to Clay and his posse.

“About 4 years, found him in the woods eating a rabbit.” Clay smiles at him as they ride side by side down the trail Leo and Logan were leading. Jerry, a little song bird that loves to ride with Leo anytime he goes down the trail perching himself on the rim of Leo’s hat.

“Wha- I thought horses were herbivores!” Clay looks up at a confused Thomas and raises an eyebrow, then it clicks.

“Oooohhhh, you think Leroy is a HE! Nope, she’s a mare! Had her since I was 9 years old. Tina is a man though, fathers all the kitties around the farm.” Smiling his million dollar smile at him. “I also have a sand boa named William-”

“Snakespear?” Clay blinks a few times and laughs nodding.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Maybe to some of us who… maybe still browse Tumblr on occasion.” Thomas winks at him causing Clay's face to heat up, swallowing the happy feelings that he knows he can’t have. He smiles back and trots ahead to be next to Logan and Leo.

Logan was gripping Leo’s wrist the entire trail ride, Finn was so distracted at one point Kuny let go of a tree branch and it smacked him across the face because he didn’t listen when he was told to duck.

It was a nice relaxing ride through the countryside, nothing fancy, just an easy going adventure. Everyone made it back to the pasture in one piece, thank god, everyone was hopping off and unsaddling the horses.

Leo got off Peanut first just for a moment, in that moment he watched Logan completely freak out when Peanut took three steps to the left to graze. Hiding his smiling by sucking his lips in between his teeth, walking over to Lo he helped him off of the horse. Logan was clinging to Leo like a koala, and tight enough it was hard for Leo to breath.

“You okay?” Leo put a hand under Logan’s booty to support him and ran his other hand through his soft curls. Hoping he felt safe now.

“I am now.” Logan looks up at him and smiles before lightly nipping at his jaw. Leo laughs a little and nods a thank you to Reg who is un saddling Peanut. Leading everyone inside to relax until they go out later tonight. Walking into the entrance hall and kicking off his boots all while holding Logan still.

“I thought these were school pictures!” Jackson, or Nado as the team calls him, points to the bunches of framed photos of Leo. “Are these… mugshots!?” He laughs in disbelief. The rest of the team starts to examine the pictures more closely. Some pictures had Leo with bruises or blood, some had him smiling with a middle finger up or peace signs, others had him looking annoyed. His younger one from when he was like 12 -13 years old were of him looking scared or crying.

“Yeah, they are all my mugshots from when I was, I think, 12 to this year. The Sheriff doesn't like us at all, arrests Clay and I for random reasons and even if, like when we were younger we would call the cops because someone vandalized the gate to the ranch and tried to break in. I got arrested for a false call. I was 14 I think. The cops are definitely not afraid to use force with us either… I hope he fucking leaves us alone while y’all are down visiting.” Leo is looking at his first mugshot ever of him sobbing at 12 years old. The week of his birthday, someone threw a rock through a window at a shop and blamed him.

“Is this your sister?” Timmy points to a mugshot of Eloise from last year and Reg bursts out laughing, Clay snorts and Leo looks confused.

“That’s my mom…”

Hours later, the drunk trio had already left for the bar to get a table and to talk to some of their friends they haven’t seen since the beginning of summer. The team was in their little ranch hand house getting ready, the speakers in the house all blaring Fast! By Sueco the Child because they know… they know there will be nothing but yeehaw music to assault and molest their ears tonight.

Thomas was pulling his grey shirt over his head, smoothing the fabric down as Noelle chills in her sweatpants and his t-shirt. People who didn’t want to go out are going over to Clay’s house to learn a bunch of mixed drink recipes and to talk shit. It was mostly the girls who didn’t feel comfortable getting harassed by middle aged men with beer guts, Dumo and Celeste who have become close friends with Judy overnight, and people who didn’t like going out in general. Like Olli, Adam, Timmy, and Sergei.

“We should talk to him.” Thomas sits down next to her and wraps an arm around her shoulders, kissing her forehead. Looking at the ceiling all he can think about is how easy they got along with Clay. How his smile and Noelle together made his heart speed up. When they both turned to look at him earlier he thought he was going to have a heart attack.

“I think you need to talk to him first, this is something new for you. To like a man. I- I’m not going to lie the thought of Clay and you separately give me the same feelings, but you two together. It makes me feel the happiest I’ve ever felt. Do you maybe want to talk to Lo or Finn before we talk to Clay? To make sure this isn’t just us… I don’t know, using Clay in a way we don’t mean to?”

“Yeah, I think that's a good idea. But when can we get them away from Leo long enough to talk to them?” Looking at his watch and hearing all the thumping down the stairs he gives her one last kiss before standing up and stretching.

“You could try to corner one of them tonight?” She smiles at him and winks at him as he shakes his head. “Have a good time tonight, Babe.”

“You too.” He heads out the bedroom down and down the stairs. He was riding with James and Coops to the Bar but maybe he would try to switch and ride with Finn and Logan.

“Red-ay!” James slings his arm around his shoulders and ruffles his hair. He thinks for a moment, then sees Finn swinging the keys to his rental car on his finger as Logan is on the ground struggling to yank his boots on. He was wearing heavy combat boots to dance around at a ‘Honkey-Tonk’ as Leo calls it. Seems like a bad idea.

“Actually I think I’m gonna tag along with Finn and Logan.” He smiles at James who shrugs and slaps his back before running off. Walking over to Finn, he looks down at Logan and gives Finn an ‘is he serious?’ look.

“He doesn’t want to be called short by all the hot cowboys and these are the tallest shoes he owns.” Sighing he looks back at Logan who is laying flat on the ground out of breath from fighting with his shoes. Reaching out he helps him up. “What’s up?”

“I’m gonna ride with you if that's fine.”

“Sounds good, let's go.” Finn skips to the car while Thomas and Logan walk side by side. Getting in the car, Thomas was squished into the backseat. As soon as the doors close he is asking questions.

“How did you guys know?”

“Know what?” Logan looks back at him as Finn starts the car. Thomas looks out his window watching the other cars pull out and start driving towards the gate.

“Know that three was the perfect number for you…” He looks back at them and sees them share a look for a moment, having a silent conversation before Logan climbs into the back with Thomas.

“It took us a long time to figure out, but we knew that Leo was for us because we could barely function as a couple without him. Like we could do it but, it just wouldn’t be the same. There was always something missing after we both started getting feelings for him.” Logan sighs a little. “It's hard to explain but it was like there was always a perfect Leo sized gap wherever we went. Once we both realized we wanted him, and he wanted us… it was a no brainer to ask him to be with us.”

“It’s definitely a feeling of loss when they leave and it's just you two together. So maybe it will cement your feelings when you get away from that person for a while. If they are the main topic of conversation when it's just you and Noelle… maybe three is the perfect number for you as well.” Finn smiles at him as he drives past the gate and follows the google map to the bar.

“What if we have already had time without them and.. We- I don’t know, we want to talk to them but I’m scared because.” He gulps and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. “Because I’ve never felt this way towards a guy before.” Finn blinks a couple of times and Logan nods, making a noise of understanding.

“ It’s a scary feeling at first, I freaked out for a long time until I finally met Finn. Then I freaked out even more and actually tried to leave the Frat. Then I finally let myself fall and I fell fast and in the stupidest way.” He laughs a little remembering when he realized he was in love with Finn. “Basically Finn had this mini basketball hoop in our dorm room the first year we had to share a room. Second semester I finally gave in to my desire for him. We had sex, honestly it was terrible because neither of us had any fucking clue what we were doing. But after, this bitch!” He starts laughing as Finn starts getting red on the tips of his ears from embarrassment. “He got up after like two minutes of cuddling because he had so much energy and started playing basketball! I was curled up in my duvet watching him with a sore ass, and a stupid smile… That's when I knew he was for me.” Smiling at Finn, just absolutely in love he turns to look at Thomas who is still laughing a little.

“I think I realized I liked… This person after they sent me a video of them playing a harmonica really annoyingly and another person in the car threw it out the window and he pulled another one out of his pocket.” Snickering, he smiles at them. “Thanks for not freaking out on me, Noelle told me to talk to you guys because she also really really likes Clay.” He realizes he just said the name he was trying to avoid and looks at them a little worried.

“It was pretty obvious how she was flirting with him all afternoon, and you just kind of watched and looked like a little puppy following them around.” Logan moves out of the way as Thomas tries to smack his arm and puts his hands up in surrender. “Sorry! Sorry! I meant like the big strong manly man you are.” Laughing, Finn pulls into a parking spot in front of the bar and shuts the car off.

Walking into the bar the smell of sweat and beer washed over them, making them scowl for a moment. They spot Reg talking to a blonde girl with a red cowgirl hat on. Leo and Clay are already hustling a game of pool with some people who look about the same age as them. The team made their way to the tab Reg was at and got comfortable. Ordering drinks and listening to music. Leo and Clay stopped by after losing $100 on the pool game. Chatting for a few moments when suddenly a sound like bagpipes came over the speakers.

Thomas watched as Clay's face completely lit up, dragging Leo out onto the dance floor. Everyone got into orderly lines and started stepping and dancing to the song all the same. It was mesmerizing. Thomas would be lying if he said he didn’t watch Clay completely lose himself in the music and didn’t have to take a drink to cure his cottonmouth. Especially when those goldish lights would land on them.

Making them even brighter than before, the lights giving Clay’s skin a bronze glow. When Clay pulled his tank top out of the waistband of his jeans, he choked on his beer. Patting his back Finn was chuckling as he watched Leo dance.

He moved so easily, like it was second nature, the dance didn’t look hard but Finn was known to have two left feet off the ice. The lights were amazing, making Leo’s hair poking out from under his hat look like gold leaf.

He was beautiful.

It was obvious that Leo and Clay were platonic soulmates, they mirrored every move perfectly. They had fun and acted like they were the only ones on the floor and whipping their heads back and forth to the beat of the music made Clay kick Leo by accident and he would just laugh.

Once the song was over Logan, Leo, Sirius, Thomas and Clay all went to smoke outside. Sirius and Thomas were out there to get some fresh air while Logan and Leo traded a cig back and forth. Clay puffed on his own and closed his eyes looking up to the sky. Hearing Footloose come on over the speakers Logan and Leo rushed inside because that was one song Logan actually knew how to dance to.

Leo joined him on the floor and would laugh but catch him anytime he would stumble with his boots. He would end up spinning Logan back into place and singing off key from behind him.

Reg was watching his friends as he spoke with Kuny about the wildly different styles of boots and hats people were wearing when a panicked looking Clayton came up to him. Grabbing his arm and walking towards the one dark lit corner of the bar and kicking a couple who was making out, out of the corner. He turns to Reg. Watching someone behind Reg walk towards the door and leave.

“You alright?”

“Thomas just kissed me…” Looking at him with wide eyes looking so lost, Reg grabs his arm to make sure he doesn’t bolt. “He kissed me and he has a girlfriend Reg! I- I’m not a homewrecker I swear!”

“Whoa whoa, hey Clay. Look at me.” Clay makes eye contact with him and starts to relax. “Thomas isn’t the type of person to just kiss someone out of nowhere, and I bet he is going to tell Noelle right away. It’s okay.”

“But Reg, I really like them… like in the way Leo likes both Logan AND Finn. I don’t want to lose them. I just figured it out the other night. I was never going to act on it because, its pretty fucking rare, but now Thomas did and- and what do I do!”

“How about we go and sit down for a couple of songs? Maybe dancing might help you out because it always seems to relax you. Okay?” Clay nods and follows Reg back to the table, after a few fidgeting moments he goes to the bar and orders a couple of shots and takes them all in a matter of seconds. Taking a deep breath he starts to relax. He feels a familiar hand run from his shoulder to his hip.

Ashley.

“Long time no see, huh.” She smiles a sly smile at him and leans her back on the bar. She was wearing a low spaghetti strap tank top and painted on blue jeans with red boots that look like Clay’s. He swallows a little. She did look good, and he was getting to be just drunk enough to be horny.

“What do you want?” She catches him looking at her boobs and smirks; he flushes red and turns around to also lean his back on the bar, looking out to the dance floor where some of the team has joined Leo in dancing to Hillbilly Bone by Trace Adkins. He looked at the table and noticed Reg staring directly at him.

“I just wanted to say hi, looks like you’ve really been taking care of yourself.” She feels his arm that he unintentionally flexes and she squeezes his muscle. He looks at Reg one last time, making his decision, he looks back at her and nods towards the door.

He leaves with her.

“Are you fucking kidding me.” Reg watches him leave. Absolutely shocked. He gets up from the table and walks onto the floor, walking over to Leo he taps his shoulder. Leaning down so Reg can talk into his ear, Reg tells Leo exactly what happened.

Looking up and around the bar he can’t spot Clay anywhere, he excuses himself from the group and walks outside with Reg. Seeing Clay’s truck is still there they walk over to it and knock on the window before looking in. Empty. They left.

“Fuck. I’m texting Judy.” Leo does exactly that.

Leo, having taken a few drinks to calm down, lets himself relax. He was at a bar with his friends and boyfriends, he could have a little bit of fun. They all decided they were leaving in an hour anyway.

So when Fishing in the dark by The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band starts he grabs Finn and pulls him close swaying to the beat of the music as he mumbles the words into his neck, still stressing about Clay leaving like that. Holding Finn as close to him as he could he let himself just forget about anything but the man in direct contact with his body.

Once the song had finished he stood there still holding Finn for an extra couple of moments, letting Finn kiss the top of his head, his hat being on Logan’s head who was sitting at the table because his feet hurt. They eventually pull apart and start back towards the table.

“Oh fucking Christ!” Leo sighs as he notices who has taken his chair at the table. Ashley’s brother and the Sheriff’s son. David. He walks over and stands next to the chair. “What the hell are you doing over here?”

“I’m socializing with some new people, you didn’t bring them. Why would they want anything to do with you?” He laughs and his lackeys on the other side of the chair also laugh and slap his shoulder.

“Actually they did come here with me.” He crosses his arms and the rest of the team is looking a little uncomfortable and confused. “So if you and your shithead friends would oh so kindly leave. I would appreciate it.” Narrowing his eyes David stands up in a way that is sizing Leo up. Leo raises an unimpressed brow because David is a good five inches shorter than him and a scrawny man.

“Do they know you’re a fucking faggot? That you’re a cockslut? A fairy?”

“Why do you think we are here?” James pipes up and the three idiots across the table look at him in shock.

“You’re a whore, I could never!” David looking back at Leo and jabbing a finger in his chest. Looking David up and down slowly with a cringed face he nods.

“Yeah, you couldn’t. Now, I believe I asked y'all to leave.” Leo points with his thumb behind him.

“You’re dad would be so proud.” Leo grabs him by the collar of his shirt and aggressively pulls him closer to him with a look of pure fury on his face.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“I said. you’re disgusting dad-” Leo is pulled away from David by Sirius.

“At least my dad wasn’t a murder!”

“AT LEAST MY DAD DIDN’T KILL HIMSELF!” Leo stops fighting against Sirius’ grip and calmly gets away from him, storming out the doors, kicking them open and walking towards his truck. Kicking rocks up and trying his best to hold himself together. Getting into his truck he slams the door and grips the steering wheel, pressing his forehead against the hot plastic and squeezing his eyes shut as tight as he can.

Minutes later Finn and Logan crawl into the truck in silence. Leo goes to apologize but they hush him and just give him understanding smiles and both of them cup one of his cheeks. He was so close to crying but he just couldn’t. Not in front of them, the people who are supposed to see him at his best.

Once they get home everyone goes to their rooms and Leo walks down behind the barn to the pond.

He spends the night by himself under his dad’s tree.

[goulets]

Heartland

Chapter: 3/8 Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson Additional Characters: Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne, Colin Wilkes, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, Duke Thomas Rating: T (for now) Case Fic / Kid Fic a03 link

The library has its benefits: no harassment from over-familiar family members, no Dick sexually frustrating him within an inch of his life, and, if he’s willing to be a little sentimental, he kind of does want to show it to the baby. She’s too young to appreciate it, probably, but it stirs something in him to share it with her all the same. He’s heard it’s never too early to get kids into reading - his parents sure as hell never tried, but Jason had read anything he could get his hands on, once he learned how. It had saved him, back then. Maybe it can do the same for her one day.

“Could’ve sworn Bruce had a Dr. Seuss anthology somewhere in here,” he says to her, combing over the shelves with his eyes. “Guess not. You up for something more sophisticated?”

She grunts, squeezing his shirt in her fist. “Alright,” he agrees, pulling Twelfth Night off the shelf. “Shakespeare it is. You’ve got taste, kid.”

***

(dick)

Venice is a nightclub that has gone by many names during its Gotham tenure, and just as many owners. Dick has been undercover here at least twice, back when the club was catering to the wealthier patrons of Little Italy. The current management clearly hasn’t bothered with maintaining that exclusivity - the building is now shabby and outdated, even for this neighborhood. One thing that hasn’t changed, though, is the real draw of Venice, which is the illegal casino in the back rooms beyond the VIP lounge. Through all the club’s owners, the casino has always been run by the Falcones, and always frequented by the city’s most morally flexible elected officials. In the past four nights that Dick’s been staking the place out, he’s seen five judges, two city council members, and even the new police commissioner slipping out the back door into the alley, stinking of gin and cigar smoke and patting their coat pockets with an air of satisfaction. It’s good intel to have, Barbara’s told him. Always helpful to keep the files updated on who’s being bought and by whom. None of that really makes him feel better about the fact that he’s been staking this place out for four nights and still hasn’t managed to pin down their actual target.

It’s embarrassing, is what it is. He’s Nightwing, for God’s sake. He’s taken down whole Russian mobs in Bludhaven, and now he’s being completely eluded by a third-string Falcone no one’s even heard of.

Oracle had ID’d the doer of the Torres/Howard murders in a matter of hours, true to her word, and the ballistics had predictably matched up with a few other murders that the police never bothered investigating. Susanna “Susie” Falcone, a second cousin once removed with a rap sheet that puts many of her relatives to shame. Her name must still have some pull in political circles, because she’s only done time once, in spite of being indicted almost a dozen times. Gotta love good old fashioned judicial corruption, Jason had said. No one had been able to argue, looking at the number of charges dismissed.

All in all, it was supposed to be a fairly simple tag-and-bag. Once they’d found her place of work - officially, the Venice nightclub, unofficially, the family casino - he’d been tasked to track her, question her, and then turn her in to the police. He’d chosen his stakeout perch well, on a hotel roof high above the alley, he’d followed her, unseen, and so far, she’s given him the slip every freaking time. The woman has vanished through every doorway from here to Robinson Park, as only the most enterprising criminal can. Were this a different kind of case, Dick might have been impressed.

Instead, he’s annoyed, and having to compromise - his vantage point is lower, closer but more exposed in the thin shadows of a third story construction platform right above the alley. He can see the door to the club without any difficulty, but the moment he moves, he’ll be open to attack.

He’ll just have to move fast. Fortunately, that’s what he’s best at.

There’s a soft motion behind him, almost quiet enough to escape his notice entirely. It’s Jason - Dick hadn’t expected him to actually turn up. No doubt he’s here to make sure they finally succeed in catching their mark tonight, but he’s been so adamant about not leaving Danielle with anyone except Dick that it’s still a surprise to see him. What’s equally surprising to Dick is that he was apparently hoping Jason would show, if the relief he feels at seeing him is anything to go by.

It’s a nice moment of solidarity, until Jason opens his mouth. “So, fourth night’s a charm, huh?”

Dick bristles. “What happened to not leaving the baby?” he retorts.

Jason bristles back, but doesn’t rise to the bait. It’s a little wrongfooting - a reminder that things are changing between them. Dick is used to the veneer of antagonism that hangs over his relationship with Jason, the unresolved tension they both pretend not to notice. They’d gotten into a pretty good groove when he was acting as Batman, staying out of each others’ way for the most part, and working together when necessary. Dick’s pretty sure Jason doesn’t actually harbor any murderous feelings towards him, just like he doesn’t actually hate Bruce, no matter what he says.

“The girls and Alfred ganged up on me,” Jason says, leaning back against the scaffolding. “Whatever. I needed to get the hell out of there anyways. I don’t know how you stand being around them all so much.”

Dick laughs. “They’re not as interested in me,” he admits. “I’m not the cool sibling.”

Jason doesn’t respond right away. It's hard for Dick to tell, when he’s wearing the helmet, but he thinks Jason is probably waiting to see if Dick is joking. It’s another way things have shifted between them - Jason’s holding back, not jumping straight to lashing out, like he used to. It should be a good thing - it is a good thing, but it’s throwing him off balance all the same. He feels like he's spent most of the past several days looking for Jason, even when Jason is right in front of him. He’s used to trying to find the Jason he knows - or knew - the Jason who was taken away from him. Now there’s a new Jason, a Jason he’s still getting to know. Dick can’t choose between them, can’t decide which one he wants to find every time he looks at him. Maybe that’s why he can’t seem to find his one lousy mafia shooter.

“Looks like the cops are covering up the ballistics report on Reynolds,” Jason says, after a moment. “Go figure.”

Dick frowns. “Just Reynolds?”

Jason grunts. “Hold on. What.”

Dick turns to look at him.

“Did you burp her?”

Oh, Dick realizes, he’s on the comm. Someone back at the Manor must have pinged him on a private line.

“Then get Alfred to do it.”

It’s curious that the ballistics on Cy Reynolds’ murder are the ones being suppressed, Dick thinks. He was the only one killed with a submachine gun - the bullets from most of the other crime scenes had come from a standard Beretta APX, and the object of his stakeout, Susie Falcone, had used a Glock on Danielle’s parents. The Glock matched a few other shootings, the Beretta matched none. None of that is particularly noteworthy - after all, Susie is a criminal, and Beretta shell casings are a dime a dozen at any mob shooting.

“Fine. I’ll check back in five. If you asswipes don’t pick up, I’m coming back there.” Jason makes an aggravated noise in the back of his throat, which Dick takes to mean he’s hung up.

“Everything OK?”

“Just peachy. By some cosmic fucking joke, I’m the only person in the family who can get the baby to take a damn bottle. I told her they just need to burp her, but I guess that’s too complicated a task for a family of genius detectives,” Jason grumbles. “I knew I shouldn’t have left her. Shit.”

“Jay, relax. She’s fine.” Dick can’t help but grin at him. It’s honestly sweet, the way Jason and the baby have gotten attached to each other. Dick likes to think he’s her second favorite, but it’s pretty hard to tell. No matter who’s holding her, she’s always looking at Jason, and Jason never stops looking at her.

“It’s fucking cold out here,” Jason says mulishly.

Dick raises an eyebrow. “I noticed. It’s April, not August. If you really want to go back, I’m not gonna stop you.”

“I don’t…” Jason sighs. “Look, I’m here, okay? You bungled this grade school op three nights in a row, so congrats, you triggered the bat buddy system. If I leave and you fuck it up again, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Dick supposes it’s his turn not to rise to the bait. “Fair enough,” he says easily, turning around to face the alleyway again. “What were you saying about the ballistics on Reynolds?”

“Oh, Oracle ran the bullets through Interpol. Turns out our ill-fated gang boss was offed by one of Carmine Falcone’s personal weapons. The record’s been scrubbed from US databases, but Babs had a hunch.” Jason sounds impressed.

“Been scrubbed meaning...there was a record,” Dick follows, “and some people might still remember, if they saw the bullets. Hence the coverup.”

“Yup. Hence the coverup.”

“Could explain what the commissioner was doing here the other night,” Dick muses.

Jason snorts derisively. “See, this is what I hate about the mafia. They’re so goddamn predictable. Kill the competition, pay off the cops, around and around forever. It’s so pedestrian.”

Dick laughs. “You’d rather deal with Clayface?”

“Fuck yes I would. Clayface has flair, you know? Anybody can be a mobster, shit.”

Jason has started shifting with agitation, or maybe impatience. Either way, their vantage spot isn’t hidden enough for him to be moving around. “Get low if you’re gonna be twitchy,” Dick tells him. “Or if you’re gonna have a cigarette, but I’d really rather you didn’t.”

“Lucky for you I quit then,” Jason says, crouching down next to him. “I’m not jonesing, I’m just fucking cold.”

“We could huddle together for warmth,” Dick jokes, grinning unabashedly when Jason’s helmet fixes him with a death glare. “Wait, you quit smoking? When?”

“When I started taking care of a baby, obviously.” Jason goes still, suddenly. “Is that her?”

The door to the alleyway opens, and they both tense - but it’s just a man, a bodyguard, by the looks of him. Close-cropped blonde hair, early 40s, used to throwing his weight around. Feeling there’s something familiar about him, Dick nudges Jason and motions for him to take a photo. Jason starts almost imperceptibly at the contact, but follows suit. They both hold perfectly still in the shadows as the man looks around, glances in a cursory way along the rooftops, and then sets off down the alley towards the street.

“I know him,” Jason mutters. “From Tim’s case files - he was with Intergang.”

Dick doesn’t say anything about Jason calling Tim by name, but it’s a welcome development. “Looks like he switched sides, if he’s hanging out here.”

“Wonderful,” Jason says. “All right, I’m gonna check on the kid again.”

Dick represses the urge to give him a shoulder squeeze, or ruffle his hair. It’d probably result in him getting shoved off the platform, but Jason’s being so....not different, because Dick’s always known that this Jason was still in him, somewhere. Always hoped, anyways. When Jason had been younger and acted like this, surly with his words but tender with his actions, Dick had always thought of him as cute. It’s like that now, too, except it’s not just cute, because Jason has several inches and at least two weight classes on him. It’s cute in a different way, an adult way. It’s cute in a way that makes Dick want to push harder against Jason’s armor, to catch as many glimpses of that side of him as he can. If he thinks about it too long, it’s cute in a way that makes him want, recklessly.

“Red Hood to Batgirl,” Jason says. He’s calling on the family line this time. “Give me an update.”

“You’re seriously a helicopter parent, you know that, Hood?” Steph laughs in Dick’s ear. “We figured it out. Well...Black Bat figured it out.”

Jason’s shoulders sag a little in relief. Cute, Dick thinks, involuntarily. He needs to get a grip. “About fucking time.”

“She prefers being propped up,” Cass says. “It helps her swallow.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you earlier. And she likes her back straight.”

“You said none of that, actually,” Steph says. “You just told us to support her head. Which we have been, thank you very much.”

“You have her now?”

“Robin has her.”

Dick and Jason look at each other. Jason says, “What the fuck?”

“Right?” Steph sounds amused. “I was surprised too....his friend is here, that ginger kid? He’s the one that took her from the orphanage, right?”

“Batgirl, I swear to god, if anything happens to her - ”

“Oh, calm down, jeez,” Steph groans. “They’re being supervised, okay? It’s honestly precious, you would agree with me if you could see it. I’ll text the pictures to N.”

“Please do,” Dick says. Speaking of cute, in a way that’s much safer to think about.

“Go do your job now,” Cass tells them. “We’re handling it.”

“Yeah, what she said. Batgirls out.”

“Feel better?” Dick asks, after a moment.

“Don’t ask me that,” Jason grouses. “And show me those pictures when you get them.”

Dick grins. “Sure, Jay.”

“Ugh.”

Dick decides to change the subject, before Jason gets too antsy and tries to bail. “So how do you want to play this, when Susie shows?”

Jason points to a dumpster halfway down the alley. “We wait until she’s there. I’ll get the club door, put a taser on it to stop her getting back in or anyone else from coming out. You cut her off before she gets to the street, and we question her on the backside of the dumpster. I’ll take line of sight, since I’m packing.”

Dick nods. “So is she.”

“So is every goon in those back rooms, sure. That’s why we lock their asses in.”

“And if they come out the front?”

Jason spins a gun in his hand. “Rubber bullets do the job just fine if you know how to aim. Let me worry about the backup.”

Another thing that’s changed about Jason - or that hasn’t changed, depending on how far back Dick looks. He uses rubber bullets now, whenever he’s working a case with one of them. Supposedly it’s a stipulation from Bruce, but Jason didn’t use lethal force on the couple cases he and Dick worked together, either, back when Dick was wearing the cowl. Dick thinks Bruce just gave him an excuse - whatever bloodlust Jason was fueled by when he first came back to Gotham has long since dried up. There are still things that set him off - Barbara had informed them about a dead rapist in the Narrows just last month - but Bruce hadn’t even commented on it, besides the barest acknowledgment. Dick thinks he might be the only one that actually cares when Jason kills someone, anymore. And what’s really disturbing is that he’s not actually sure how much he cares. For instance, he knows Jason has a third gun, holstered under his jacket, loaded with live ammo. He could call Jason out on it, insist he ditch it or at the very least unload it.

He says nothing. Let me worry about the backup. If this mission ends in a massacre, Dick will only have himself to blame.

The door opens again, and out steps Susie Falcone.

She immediately looks around, staying still in the doorway for a minute or more. Dick is pretty sure she hasn’t seen him following her, but he’s familiar with the sensation of being watched. He and Jason both shrink further into the shadows, waiting for her to make a move.

The whole process takes about six seconds. The moment she gets a few paces into the alley, they drop down. Jason electrifies the door handle, and Dick outmaneuvers her easily, slapping his police-issue cuffs on her and kicking her gun aside, then spinning her into the wall behind the dumpster. She hits it with a grunt. By the time she’s glaring at him, Jason is at his side again.

“Nightwing and Red Hood?” she says. “Damn. Didn’t expect to see you fellas out here.”

She doesn’t seem scared of them. Dick guesses they’ll have backup coming their way soon.

“Hey, what do you know,” Jason says conversationally, picking up the gun and emptying the clip in one swift motion. “Nightwing, I do believe this is our Glock.”

“Not mine,” Susie objects. “Picked it up off the club floor.”

“Come on, Susie, you’re smarter than that.” Jason crosses his arms. “Look, I can appreciate a sensible weapon. The Berettas the rest of your family favors? Too flashy for me. I loved Sopranos as much as the next guy, but come on.”

Dick suppresses a laugh. “Thought you were a Sig man,” he says in an undertone. He hadn’t expected Jason to take the lead, but it’s working. Susie looks agitated at the mention of her family.

“Wow, stalker. Remind me to move safe houses,” Jason quips back. “Aw, look, she slipped your cuffs.”

There’s a taser in Susie’s newly freed hand, and Dick quickly sidesteps it, twists it out of her wrist and sends it clattering down the cobblestones of the alley. Jason sweeps her legs out from under her and knocks her down flat, maybe a little harder than Dick would’ve. Thankfully, she goes down without a fight.

“Let’s try this again,” Dick says, kneeling next to her and zip-tying her wrists. If he wasn’t sure before, he is now - she was expecting them. They won’t be alone for long. He throws a couple smoke pellets down to the ends of the alley, and clips a nearly invisible wireless mic to the shoelaces of her boot under the guise of patting her down.

“You’re obviously not surprised to see us, so just tell us what we want to know,” Jason tells her, squatting down. “I’ll be honest, I don’t really give a shit that you shot Big Mouth, but what did Linda Torres ever do to you?”

“Let me up,” Susie snarls.

“No. Talk, or I’ll give you a taste of that taser you tried to pull on us.”

“Hood,” Dick hisses.

“See? He knows I’ll do it. Save yourself the grief, Susie.” Jason points the barrel of his gun lazily at her temple.

Susie narrows her eyes. “Fine. The two of them robbed me, last September. Dumb motherfuckers didn’t know who they were messing with. But I let them live because the bitch was pregnant.”

Jason makes a noise of disbelief. “Oh, sure. You’re a real bleeding heart, is that it?”

“Like you’re any better,” Susie fires back.

“You said you waited on Linda because she was pregnant,” Dick says. “Why’d you wait to kill Big Mouth?”

Susie’s mouth twists. “Guess I just felt like it.” Dick doesn’t need to see the tension in her shoulders to know she’s lying.

“Strike two.” Jason clicks the safety off. “Who put the hits out?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Susie answers. “I’m dead if I talk, so pistol whip me if you want to. Here’s the God’s honest truth: I really didn’t need a reason to kill those assholes. I was out for ‘em anyways. But I’m not crazy enough to kill a baby, all right? I don’t need shit like that on my conscience.”

“Keep talking,” Jason growls. Dick hears the whoop of a siren a few blocks off. “Where’s the baby now?”

“Somewhere safe, I swear. If anybody comes for her, it won’t be me.”

Susie still thinks Danielle’s at the orphanage, then. That’s good for them, but potentially bad for all the other kids, Colin included. These guys clearly have no problem killing children, even if Susie won’t do it.

The sirens are getting closer. Someone inside must’ve called the cops. Dick motions to Jason, indicating they need to wrap things up.

“Who is coming for her,” Jason barks, every line of his body a threat. “You’ve got five seconds.”

“You don’t.” Susie looks triumphant. They can hear the shouts of police from behind the smoke. “But don’t worry, boys. You’ll find out who really runs this town soon enough.”

“Hood,” Dick mutters. “We need to go, cops in this neighborhood aren’t cape-friendly.”

Jason stands, visibly enraged, and for a moment Dick thinks he’ll shoot Susie anyways. He’s prepared to move - but then Jason pulls out his grapple, fires, and flies up onto the roof.

“Talk about a bleeding heart,” Susie says to Dick. “He have kids or something?”

Dick doesn’t like her tone of voice at all. She’s too relaxed, too unconcerned about being under arrest. She won’t stay in long.

“It’s Nightwing! Get your hands up!”

Dick obliges, ready to pull his escrima sticks.

Three police officers come through the smoke, weapons drawn. “You better have a damn good reason for being this far out of Bludhaven,” one of them shouts at Dick.

“Sure do!” Dick calls back. “Arrested a murderer for you, no need to thank me!”

“Shut up,” a different officer retorts. “Keep your hands up, pretty boy.”

“Oh, fuck this,” Jason mutters over the comm. “I’m throwing you an escape, we’ll recon on the library roof. Stop being so goddamn chatty.”

One smoke pellet later, Dick is three rooftops away and flying. He gets to the library before Jason, exhilarated as ever from a good run.

Jason drops down next to him after a minute or so, laughing when he gets a look at Dick’s smile. “Running from the cops still does it for you, huh?”

Dick elbows him, momentarily forgetting to keep his distance. “Doesn’t it for you?”

Surprisingly, Jason doesn’t move away. “Usually they’re shooting at me, so.”

Dick leans closer, testing. “So…yes?”

“You’re so annoying,” Jason says, but he lets Dick nudge his shoulder, bump their arms together. He’s so solid, Dick thinks. So big. More like Bruce than any of them.

“So, how fast do you think she’ll get out?” he asks, when Jason stays quiet.

“Fucking tomorrow, probably,” Jason sighs. “Next week if we’re lucky.”

“Sounds like she didn’t know about Danielle, at least.”

“She’s not the problem,” Jason says, shrugging Dick off and standing back up. “Falcones will blow up the whole orphanage if they get wind of it. We need to put them down first.”

“We need to find out who’s in charge,” Dick agrees. “I planted a mic on her shoe. In the laces. Hopefully she won’t find it for a few days.”

“Good thinking,” Jason nods. “You gonna keep patrolling?”

“Might as well,” Dick says, standing up next to him and stretching his arms over his head. “I’m still stiff from that stakeout, I need to move.”

Jason’s gone quiet again. Dick thinks he hears his breath catch, but the helmet muffles it enough that it could be a yawn.

“You’re going back to the manor?”

Jason groans. “Fuck my life, yes.”

“You miss her, huh.” Cute, his brain chants.

Jason doesn’t answer, but Dick has a feeling he’s getting the stink-eye.

“I miss her too,” Dick offers. “It’s okay.”

Jason sighs. “Dick…”

“It’s a good thing, Jay. You care about her! We all do,” Dick adds, seeing the rigidity in Jason’s posture. “I mean, you’re practically her parent right now. Of course you miss her.”

“...Don’t say it like that.” Jason’s voice is low, almost pained, and Dick knows he pushed too far. “Like…like I have a right to, okay, just. Don’t.”

“Jason, wait,” Dick starts, but he doesn’t get to finish. Without a backward glance, Jason fires off a line to the neighboring building, and then he’s gone.

***

(tim)

The docks are quiet, unsettlingly so, as Tim prowls around the towers of shipping containers, keeping to the deep shadows they cast along the chipped pavement. It’s overcast, so there’s no moonlight to expose him, but it’s also too dark to see which of the trucks and campers parked all over are occupied, which ones might suddenly turn their headlights on him and catch him out.

One truck in particular - an innocuous looking Isuzu with a stunningly weaponized interior, is the object of his search. The driver, Felipe, is one of Tim’s best informants within Intergang - or had been, prior to the upheaval. Tim’s reasonably sure that Felipe is too lowly a grunt to make an example of, but still, he’s concerned that he hasn’t heard from him in a few days.

As it turns out, he needn’t have worried. He finds Felipe a hundred yard away from his truck, taking a piss off the wharf. He lets himself into the passenger side of the truck, and immediately notes that it is packed. There’s hardly a spare inch in the back, and Tim has a tough time even getting into the passenger seat with all the bags, clothes, and blankets stuffed into it. He pushes the majority of it to the floor, and waits.

Felipe comes back a few moments later. He opens the door and starts, eyes going wide when he sees Tim, but Tim puts his finger to his lips and motions for Felipe to get in so they can talk.

“Red Robin,” Felipe says, once the door is closed. He looks even more shaken than usual. “What the fuck, man?”

Tim crosses his arms. “You tell me, Felipe. You’ve been dodging my calls for days, and now I find out you’re skipping town?”

“I ditched that phone, man. Boss Reynolds had my number in there, you know? Ditched it as soon as I heard about him. I wasn’t trying to ghost you, honest.”

“Relax,” Tim tells him. “I’m not mad. I’d dodge me, too. Just tell me what happened, and I’ll shadow you out of town. Make sure you’re not followed.”

“Shit, man,” Felipe sighs. “Okay, look. There’s shit I can’t tell you, not if I ever want to hench again. You gotta figure that all out yourself, yeah?”

Tim shrugs. “Fine.”

Felipe swallows. “It started last week when Boss Reynolds met with somebody - I don’t know his name, God as my witness, but from what I heard, ‘cause I was unloading some of that funky alien tech, and you know Boss Reynolds wanted to supervise that personally - anyways, this guy in a suit took a meeting with him, and it sounded like he was offering Boss Reynolds a job. Said he had a new operation, bigger than Intergang, bigger than anything Gotham’s seen in a while.”

“Did Reynolds believe him?”

“Nah, he told him to get lost. They had some words, and then everybody started pulling guns, and I went back to the ship so I didn’t get fuckin’ shot, but I didn’t hear anything after that. Next thing I saw, Boss Reynolds was calling his son up and telling him to demo some building down by the old boardwalk - a hotel, maybe. Guess he wanted to expand that way, I don’t know.”

“That was the old Falcone hotel,” Tim says, mostly just to see Felipe’s reaction. He isn’t disappointed - Felipe goes pale, and his eyes flash to the rosary hanging off his rearview mirror. Tim likes Felipe as an informant because he’s nosy, shockingly competent for a henchman, and because he really likes to gossip. He’s never held back on Tim before this.

“Few days later, one of ours, this merc named Tiberius, comes down to the warehouse and says he’s got something to show us. Takes out a fat fuckin’ folder full of pictures…man, it was some sick shit. Boss Reynolds, his wife, Reynolds Jr, and every fuckin’ guy under him. Kids, man. He just passed it around, made everyone look at it. Then he says, we can either be in the folder, or we can come meet the new boss.”

Felipe takes a shaky breath. “Obviously I go with Tiberius, like everyone else. I heard a couple guys stayed on the ship that was docked, thinking they’d wait ‘em out, but the new boss blew it up. Says we’re not in the tech business anymore, and anyone caught trying to smuggle it is gonna get tied to it and tossed in the harbor. You can imagine my concerns,” he says, gesturing to his truck. Tim estimates half or more of the weapons in it are salvaged from alien junk. Roy Harper would have a field day with the setup this guy’s made for himself.

“So that’s why you’re bailing,” Tim says, understanding. He can hardly blame the guy. “Why not just hide the truck somewhere?”

“Well…I did think about that,” Felipe admits. “Tiberius made us a pretty sweet pitch, once we went along with him. Not gonna lie, I was tempted. Tech is my thing, you know, but I can make a gun out of pretty much anything. I could see the possibilities, is what I’m saying, but that was before we met the new boss.”

Tim nods encouragingly. This is what he’s been waiting to hear.

“Listen, Red Robin - I know we’ve had our differences, but I respect you, man, you know that. You’ve been good to me, so I’m gonna give you some advice here. Stay the hell away from the new boss. Like, don’t even get involved. I’ve been henching for a while, and I’ve seen some messed up shit, but they are crazy. Está loca, you feel me? I’ve seen the hit list, and you’re right at the top of it. You and all the other capes. Half of Arkham, too. And they’re connected, like you wouldn’t believe. Shit, I’m already saying too much, man. You see the position I’m in here?”

“I do, Felipe,” Tim tells him. He hands over a stack of hundred dollar bills, their agreed-upon rate for information. “Where are you going?”

“You’re crazy too, if you think I’m telling you that,” Felipe scoffs.

Tim wasn’t expecting a straight answer anyways. “Fair enough. You heading out now?”

“Soon as you get the hell outta my car, yeah. You said you’d shadow me out?”

“I will,” Tim says. “From a distance. If you don’t see me, it means you’re clear to cross the bridge.”

“All right,” Felipe nods. “In that case, I hope I never see your ass again.”

Tim laughs, and climbs out of the truck.

He finds his own way out of the shipyard, pulls a bike out of a safe house, and catches up with Felipe’s GPS signal halfway to the Fashion District. Once he’s sure there’s no immediate threat, he calls Barbara.

“Red Robin to Oracle. I’m uploading a recording to the server.”

Barbara is in his ear at once. “You met with your informant?”

“He wouldn’t give me a name, but he let a couple things slip.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” she says.

“First, he flinched hard when I brought up the Falcone name.”

“Confirms what we already know,” Barbara says. “Good. There’s more?”

“There’s more.” Tim tries not to gloat. This is, after all, a serious situation. “He was being cagey about mentioning the leader’s gender, so I was already suspicious, but then said ‘está loca’ when he was trying to warn me.”

Barbara whistles. “Well,” she says, sounding satisfied. “That’ll certainly narrow it down.”

“Yep,” Tim says grimly. “Looks like the new head of the Falcone family is a woman.”

***

(jason)

When Jason was Robin, the library had always been his favorite room in the Manor. It had spoken easily to his idea of what wealth was - rich people had fancy cars, sure, and maybe pools and expensive wardrobes, but wealthy people had art collections, and gardens, and libraries. Jason had spent hours upon hours browsing the shelves, reading anything he could wrap his brain around (and plenty of things he couldn’t), suggesting additions to Alfred, and avoiding his schoolwork in favor of learning about more interesting things, like string theory, or cryptology, or chemical warfare.

That was then.

Now, the library is the only place he can get a minute of peace from the constant barrage of his obnoxious, nosy, boundaryless family members. They’ve been characteristically persistent in their curiosity about him, and about Danielle, who is now Dani, courtesy of Stephanie. This is a nickname family, she’d said, and Jason hadn’t known how to disagree. So now she’s Dani, and Jason is family, and that apparently means he is no longer entitled to any privacy, or personal space for that matter. The only person who hasn’t barged in on him is Bruce, which is almost worse, in a way, because it’s one thing when nobody seeks him out, and it’s quite another when everyone does and then Bruce...doesn’t. Not that he wants Bruce to come up and bother him, God. But he’s in the man’s house, he’s hearing him on the comm constantly either on patrol or down in the cave, and all the other Bat brats and even Alfred are buzzing around him like flies. It’s too much - it feels like before, except for Bruce’s conspicuous absence reminding him that it’s not.

Sharing a bathroom with Dick is another before experience that Jason didn’t need a repeat of. In some ways, it was worse when he was Robin - stripping and showering after patrol in the cave with Dick a few feet away from him is a memory he really wouldn’t have minded leaving back in the Pit - and in other ways, it’s worse now, because Dick is always freaking around. There’s no reprieve, he’s not flitting off to the Titans every week like he used to be. Jason hasn’t gone half a day without Dick getting in his space, drawing up close to him and making that earnest eye contact he’s so annoyingly good at; sometimes wet, sometimes half-naked, sometimes both. And what can Jason do? He’s not going to leave Dani, and he needs Dick to be there so he can get some sleep every once in a while, or patrol, or shower. It’s actually been pretty helpful to have him around, in that regard, but if he has to see the guy walking around with bedhead and nothing but a pair of boxer briefs on one more time, he’s going to fucking explode.

So, the library has its benefits: no harassment from over-familiar family members, no Dick sexually frustrating him within an inch of his life, and, if he’s willing to be a little sentimental, he kind of does want to show it to Dani. She’s too young to appreciate it, probably, but it stirs something in him to share it with her all the same. He’s heard it’s never too early to get kids into reading - his parents sure as hell never tried, but Jason had read anything he could get his hands on, once he learned how. It had saved him, back then. Maybe it can do the same for Dani one day.

“Could’ve sworn Bruce had a Dr. Seuss anthology somewhere in here,” he says to her, combing over the shelves with his eyes. “Guess not. You up for something more sophisticated?”

She grunts, squeezing his shirt in her fist. “Alright,” he agrees, pulling Twelfth Night off the shelf. “Shakespeare it is. You’ve got taste, kid.”

He wonders, not for the first time, what exactly he thinks he’s doing, playing at this whole parenting thing. The rational part of his brain knows that this is a case, that Dani is a victim, that Jason is protecting her because it’s his job. The emotional part of his brain has gone completely off the goddamn rails. Case in point: he’s here with her in the library, prepping her for early literacy like some kind of Crest Hill soccer mom wannabe. Like he’ll even be in her life when she starts doing her ABCs - God willing, she’ll be as far away from him as possible by the time that happens.

It’s fucking hard to think about. He never thought he’d get this attached to a person who can’t even burp on their own. It’s been over a week, and he still struggles with putting her down, with stepping away from her, even when he knows he’s coming right back. Steph and Damian have been wanting to hold her all the time, and Jason knows that they’re capable, knows he has no claim over Dani, doesn’t even mind either of them all that much under normal circumstances, and still, he can’t help feeling like something has reached inside and gripped at his heart every time he passes her over. Which is ridiculous, because she’s not his, he has no more claim over her than any other schmuck off the street. She’s just a kid with unbelievably bad luck, and he’s the idiot who followed Dick up the stairs instead of booking it out the door like a sensible person.

He settles down with her on the couch, propping her up on a couple of pillows, giving her foot a little squeeze. She squeals, smiling at him, and stuffs her fingers in her mouth. God, Jason didn’t know he could feel the way he feels whenever she smiles at him. It’s gonna kill him when he has to give her up.

“If music be the food of love, play on,” he reads, walking his fingers up her leg. “Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken, and so die.”

Dani watches him, chewing happily on her fingers. “‘O, it came over my ear like the sweet sound that breathes upon a bank of violets.’ That’s you, you know.” He pokes her in the cheek, grinning. If music be the food of love…but hell, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this. Especially when she’s all calm and engaging, the precious few minutes that he’s learned to appreciate in between finishing eating and being tired and cranky, when all she wants to do is look around at things, and all Jason wants to do, ever, is look at her.

The door to the library opens, and Jason goes from content to murderous in a fraction of a second. “What the fuck is it now,” he hisses, expecting Damian or maybe Tim, coming to nag him some more, and instead sees Damian’s friend Colin, who looks horrified to have intruded on him. Jason immediately feels like the world’s biggest ass.

“Sorry,” Colin whispers, mortified, and Jason waves a hand apologetically.

“My bad, I didn’t know it was you. Come in, it’s fine. She’s awake, you don’t need to whisper.”

Colin looks unsure, but soon nods and steps into the library, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Once inside, he dawdles by the nearest bookshelf, clearly at a loss. Jason probably should’ve just let him back out, because this is awkward. Should he keep reading to Dani? Talk to Colin? Ask him why he looks like someone just kicked him and stole his dog?

“You good?” he ventures, figuring he ought to at least attempt to be the adult in the room.

Colin glances at him over his shoulder, smiling tentatively. “Yeah, just bored. Damian’s sleeping, we had a rough patrol last night.”

“We?” Jason repeats, stunned. Bruce isn’t an exemplar of child welfare practices, sure, but letting Damian take other kids on crime-busting playdates? What the hell?

“Oh, I guess you don’t know,” Colin frowns. “I’m….uh, it’s probably easier if I just show you.”

He slides his jacket off, threadbare t-shirt hanging off his skinny frame. Jason tenses, not sure what to expect. When Colin’s arm starts to expand, his eyes widen. By the time his fist is as big around as Jason’s thigh, he thinks his eyebrows have probably disappeared into his hairline.

“Oh.” Jason has no idea how he’s supposed to react to this. Is Colin a meta? He’s pretty sure he would know if Colin was a meta. “How…?”

“Scarecrow,” Colin explains. Jason’s heart sinks. “He experimented on me with synthetic Venom. Batman saved me.”

Dani fusses, twisting her body and scrunching her face up. Jason sympathizes - this conversation is giving him gas, too. “Shit,” he says. Not the most articulate way of expressing his condolences, but Colin’s friends with Damian, so tact can’t be of great importance to him. “I didn’t know.”

Dani starts to cry, and Colin takes a couple steps forward, putting Jason’s hackles up at once. Stop it, he tells himself sternly. He might have fallen down a few pegs, but he’s not pathetic enough to square up against an abused fifth grader. He picks her up, rubbing her back, and then glances over at Colin. The kid’s gone shy, looking down at a point somewhere between Jason’s legs and the floor. Jason feels all the hostility bleed out of him, and he sighs.

“You can sit down.” He gestures to the couch, trying to sound nonthreatening. Dani burps, mouths at his shirt, and then gurgles and kicks her legs again. She leans back against his hold to stare at Colin, and Colin’s face splits into a huge grin. He tucks himself down into the cushions, keeping plenty of space between them, but Jason can sense from the inclination of his body that he wants to be closer. Well, if anyone has a right to be close to Dani, it’s the kid who rescued her in the first place.

“Here,” he offers, turning Dani around in his arms. His heart clenches, and he clamps down on his desire to flee. “You can hold her for a minute, if you want to. She likes you.”

Colin looks at him, eyes shining. “Really?”

Jason nods. “Go ahead. Honestly, you probably know a lot more about this shit than I do.”

Colin takes Dani from him carefully, smiling at her and laughing when she reaches forward to grab at his jacket zipper. A few seconds later, it’s in her mouth, along with most of her fist.

“Should I…?” Colin looks at Jason hesitantly.

“I mean…she’s had worse things in her mouth,” Jason tells him. A ringing endorsement of his child-minding abilities right there. “It’s fine, right? That’s how they build an immune system, or whatever.”

“Well, Alfred washed this for me last night,” Colin admits, looking embarrassed. “So it shouldn’t be too gross.”

Jason leans back against the couch cushions, crossing his arms. “Getting all the perks, huh?”

Colin shrugs, casting his eyes down again. “I like it here.”

Considering where Colin grew up, Jason supposes he can’t blame the kid. Still, he’s not quite wrapping his head around this sweet, genuinely nice kid being buddies with Damian. The demon brat isn’t exactly known for his winning personality, and Jason only knows vaguely how the two of them met, but what he’s heard doesn’t strike him as being particularly conducive to forging the lasting bonds of friendship.

Curiosity gets the better of him, and he decides to just ask. “Why’d you call Damian, the night you found her?”

Colin looks surprised. “I...don’t know,” he says, slowly. “I didn’t know who else to call? Damian’s my best friend, and he always knows what to do.”

Jason can’t keep the skeptical look off his face.

“And if he doesn’t, Bat….Bruce, I mean, definitely always knows what to do.”

Jason scrubs a hand over his face. Time to change the fucking subject. “How’d you two get hooked up, anyways?”

Dani turns her head to look at him, still eating Colin’s zipper. Sometimes, Jason gets the bizarre feeling that she can somehow tell when he’s about to blow a gasket. It’s probably a coincidence - she moves around a lot, and Jason has anger issues that flare up every ten minutes, so there’s bound to be some crossover - but it works, because it takes the fight right out of him every time.

“We worked a case together,” Colin says, holding Dani a little more securely against him. “About a year ago, I guess. Kids were disappearing from my orphanage, and from the shelters. I don’t think you were around.”

“I wasn’t,” Jason shakes his head. He and Roy had been busting a trafficking ring in Ibiza, and it had taken Jason over a month to get all the major players. “I heard about it a little, from Dick.”

Dick hadn’t given him too many details at the time - Jason had chalked it up to him having a few other things on his mind, but as Colin fills in the gaps, he starts to suspect Dick just didn’t want him going on a rampage. Which he absolutely would have - he still wants to, God. God. All those poor kids, just a stone’s throw from his old neighborhood. And of course the police had done jack shit - Zsasz is practically Black Mask’s pet, he probably paid them off to look the other way, not that most of them need the excuse - and Bruce was gone, and Jason was gone, and Dick was in over his head, and - fuck, it should never have fallen to Damian and Colin.

He waits for the fury to subside a little, not trusting what will come out of his mouth. Dani hums around her fist, blinking at him, and it helps. “Jesus,” he says, finally. “This fucking town.”

Colin’s mouth twists a little. “Yeah. But you were Robin, right? You probably saw worse things.”

Did he? Jason doesn’t remember. He doubts it, though. He can’t imagine he would’ve been satisfied with Bruce’s way of dealing with it.

“I wouldn’t have pulled my stroke, when I was Robin,” he muses. “Probably why Bruce never gave me a sword.”

No, Jason would’ve bisected the fucker. It still has appeal, though he thinks he would lean towards his favorite Sig rifle if he was taking care of it today. Headshots for the henchmen - anyone who signs on to that kind of operation, even in the most menial capacity, doesn’t deserve to breathe. Kneecaps and crotch shots for the spectators, to make sure they couldn’t get away. Gut shots for the kid-wranglers. And Zsasz....it’s tempting to want to draw it out, but Jason can feel the desire leaving him the longer he thinks about it. His imaginative tortures fade into a simple headshot, and even that isn’t satisfying. Fuck. He just can’t seem to hold onto his rage lately, even when he wants to. It’s all being replaced by some kind of anxiety, some kind of tenderness that aches, burning deep into him every time Dani looks at him, or touches him. Every time he thinks of her. Every time he feels Dick watching him with her, all warmth and affection.

Colin bounces her a little, making her laugh. Jason feels his revenge fantasy slip away.

“What’re you reading her?” Colin nods to the book still laying open in Jason’s lap.

Jason looks at it. “Oh, Twelfth Night. Shakespeare,” he adds, recalling that Colin is eleven, and likely not perusing great literature in his free time. “Figure it’s never too early to start her on the classics.”

Colin grins. “That’s cool,” he says. “Does she like it?”

“Beats me,” Jason shrugs.

“Read some?”

Jason raises his eyebrows.

Colin flushes. “Um. I mean, if you want…”

He decides to humor him. What the hell. “Sure, why not. ‘O spirit of love! How quick and fresh art thou, that, notwithstanding in thy capacity, receiveth as the sea.’”

Dani yawns widely, relinquishing her fist in a long string of drool. Jason laughs, and so does Colin. “Maybe jumping the gun a little,” he admits. “I don’t really know what kids are into these days.”

“Me either,” Colin says. “I think she liked it, though. See, she’s just sleepy.”

Jason feels a lump forming in his throat, and swallows hard against it.

“What does it mean? The part you were reading,” Colin asks.

“Um.” Jason doesn’t really know, he’s not exactly a literary scholar, but he’s always liked to work Shakespeare out on his own, finding meaning in the wordplay and running the metaphors through his mind until they line up in a satisfactory way. He doesn’t know if his interpretation is correct, exactly, but: “So this Duke, a guy called Orsino, is saying that he doesn’t want to be in love anymore. He’s talking about love and how everyone thinks it’s this wonderful thing, but the truth is that it actually just makes people miserable.”

Jason pauses, feeling like he just showed way too much of his hand. “Basically, he’s just complaining,” he finishes, uneasy.

Glancing at Colin out of the corner of his eye, he’s relieved to see that he’s occupied with Dani, and not paying attention to Jason at all. Thank fuck. If it’d been anyone else in the house sitting there, he’d be in for some horrible armchair psychology session, and he’d have to book it out the window and not return for several months.

“I think she wants you,” Colin says, as Dani ramps up her fussing. Jason takes her gratefully, holds her to his chest as she rubs her eyes and grumbles her displeasure at being passed around.

“All right, I hear you,” Jason murmurs, gently tugging her fists away from her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, come on. It’s not so bad.” Like he’s one to talk.

And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, ever since pursue me, he thinks, rocking her tiny body into a comfortable position. Colin was only holding her for ten, maybe fifteen minutes, and Jason was sitting less than five feet away, but he missed her. God, what is happening to him?

“Damian didn’t want to bring her here, at first,” Colin says quietly. “But I think he’s glad that we did. He really likes her, you know.”

Jason doesn’t quite know how to feel about that. It’s sweet, on some level. And he’s well aware that Damian likes her, going by the amount of time he spends hovering in the hallway outside Jason’s room, not to mention the increasingly expensive toys that keep showing up among her things.

He looks down at her, dozing off. “Well, she’s pretty easy to like.”

Colin nods, looking pleased.

“Damian, on the other hand....”

Colin grins. “He’s not so bad.”

He’s really not. Like hell Jason will ever tell him that, though. “You have bizarre taste, kid.”

Colin blushes, hard, and Jason blinks. Well. That’s interesting, isn’t it? Or it will be, in a few years. He makes a note to ask Dick about it, later.

“Are you gonna adopt her?” Colin asks, bringing Jason’s amused thoughts to a screeching halt.

Automatically, he says, “No way.”

Colin looks wounded. “Why not?”

“Because I can’t,” Jason replies. “I’m the last person who should be a parent, trust me.”

“Doesn’t look that way to me.”

Doesn’t feel that way either - the thought floats up, unbidden, uninvited. He can’t. “She deserves better,” Jason says, heavily. “Even if….even I could handle it. She deserves better than this family.”

“But your family is - ”

“A death sentence.” He’s being harsh, but if Colin’s gonna be hanging around, he’ll find out for himself soon enough. “It’s fucking cursed, look. I couldn’t do that to any kid, especially her. You should get out too, while you still can.”

Colin looks angry, which surprises him. His hands are balled into fists, and Jason sees a tremor in them, a bulging that immediately sets off alarm bells in his head.

“Kid,” he says sharply. “Colin. If you’re gonna hulk out, take it outside. Alfred will have an honest-to-God stroke if you do it in here.”

A few deep breaths later, Colin looks normal again. “Sorry.” His voice is hoarse. “You’re wrong, though.”

Jason’s temper flares. “No offense, but I think I would know better than you,” he snaps. Dani grumbles sleepily in his arms, and he sighs out in frustration. “Trust me, okay? She’s better off. It never ends well, not in this family. I’m proof of that.”

But Colin shakes his head. “You don’t know,” he says. “My mom said the same thing, when she dropped me off at the orphanage. She gave the nuns a letter - she said I’d be better off with them than with her.”

Jason stills.

“It didn’t matter,” Colin continues. “Scarecrow still got me. Victor Zsasz still got me. Maybe they would have gotten me with her, too. Maybe I wouldn’t have been that much better off with her, but at least I would’ve been with her.” He sniffles, and Jason holds Dani a little tighter.

“I know she loved me.” His voice cracks. “I just wish...I wish I could’ve stayed with her. I wish she would have known that I never would’ve been better off away from her.”

He looks absolutely miserable, pitched forward and rubbing hard at his eyes. Jason is reminded painfully of how young Colin is, closer to Dani’s age than his own. He remembers being Colin’s age and younger, thinking the same thoughts about his own mother. How fiercely he’d guarded her, chased away the cops and the social workers, doing everything in his power not to be separated from her. Not that it mattered, in the end.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Colin, I’m sorry. For the record, I actually kind of get where you’re coming from.”

Colin looks up at him.

“Wish I didn’t, but. That’s life.”

“You should adopt her,” Colin says again, softly.

Jason shakes his head. “Colin…”

“You’ll think about it.”

He exhales. “Sure, I’ll think about it.” Like he’ll be able to think about anything else after this.

“She needs you,” Colin insists stubbornly.

Jason doesn’t reply. He knows on some level Colin is right - Dani does need him right now. She needs someone, at least, someone who can take care of her and protect her. Someone who isn’t afraid to shed blood to keep her safe. Jason doesn’t relish the thought, but he’s certain this won’t end tidily. Mob cases never do. It’ll be messy, and bloody, and Bruce will have a shit fit, and Dick probably will too, and Jason will go back to Crime Alley and Dani will get shipped off to Witness Protection or something, and damn, does that hurt to think about.

He looks over at Colin, still hunched over on himself, vulnerability written into every line of his posture. He’s desperately in need of a hug, or some kind of affection, validation, maybe. Or that’s just Jason projecting, who the fuck knows. If Dick was here, he would know exactly what to do for him. Jason’s at a loss, unable to separate his young self from the damaged kid sitting next to him.

He adjusts his hold on Dani carefully, laying her down flat along his arm, while he works out what to say. Finally, he settles on, “Damian’s lucky to have you.”

Colin sits up a little straighter. He looks like he’s waiting for more, but he’s shit out of luck, because Jason has no idea what else he needs to hear. No idea what he could say that wouldn’t be completely insincere, anyways. We can be your family, Colin. Like hell. Bruce has enough kids lined up waiting to die for him, he’s not about to encourage another one to be turned into cannon fodder for the man’s principles.

“Uh, yeah,” Jason says, after a moment. “That’s all I got.”

Colin smiles wanly. “Thanks, anyways.”

Jason snorts. “Sure.”

“Can I hug you?”

Jason stares. “Can you…what? Me?”

“I won’t if you don’t want me to,” Colin adds, averting his eyes.

Jason can’t even remember the last time someone hugged him. He thinks Roy might’ve, some eight or nine months ago, after they’d narrowly survived a warehouse explosion. Jason’s whole body had been ringing from the blast, so he doesn’t exactly remember the sensation of it. And before that…?

He imagines Dick’s reaction, if he was here. He’d be disappointed in Jason, that’s for sure. Really, Jay? You can’t hug a child? It’s a fair argument, he has to admit. Jason’s fucked up personal space issues don’t really apply to children, or babies, clearly. Colin’s obviously attention-starved, and Jason’s already holding one kid. What’s another, really.

“Okay,” he relents. “Hit me.”

There’s a shuffling motion next to him, and then Colin is hugging his free arm, leaning his head against Jason’s shoulder. Jason can’t quite contain his surprise - it’s weird, as expected, but it’s not dramatically increasing his desire to bolt through the nearest exit like he’d thought it would. It’s a little funny, actually. He’s pretty sure both Bruce and Damian would lose their shit if they could see him right now. Dick, too, most likely, but to his credit, it would be a happy kind of shit-losing. Damian would probably try to gut him.

Are there cameras in the library? Jason can’t remember. He kind of hopes there aren’t, because if anyone else sees this, he will absolutely never live it down.

***

(dick)

“Wait, I think that’s him.” Dick leans forward to peer at Tim’s screen. He points to the familiar looking figure. “That guy. Do you have a clearer shot?”

Tim skips a few photos ahead, and zooms in. “Him?”

“Yes. That’s the guy. Jason said he recognized him from your surveillance files. He was at the club the night we caught Susie Falcone.”

“The fourth night, was it?” Tim asks, innocently.

“Don’t be mean, Timmy.”

“Just clarifying,” Tim grins. Dick raises an eyebrow. “Okay, okay. I don’t have a ton of intel on this guy, he’s really slippery. According to my informant, he goes by Tiberius - some kind of mercenary, Greek or Albanian national. I doubt that’s his real name.”

Dick nods, studying the photographs. Tim continues, “He came over with Intergang as an enforcer, I think. Might’ve been Reynolds’ personal bodyguard.”

“Could explain how Reynolds got taken out,” Dick says thoughtfully. “He’s on the Falcones’ payroll now, but he’s not family. Might be an easy target.”

Tim opens his mouth, about to reply, when there’s a choked-off sound of fury from the Batcave below them.

“Was that Damian? He’s up already?” Dick asks, glancing down towards Bruce’s computer. He hops over the ramp to see what the fuss is about. Tim follows close behind.

“Everything okay?” Dick asks, approaching the wall of screens. There’s nothing that jumps out at him as being particularly alarming; Bruce is looking at DNA analyses, and Damian is looking at the Manor surveillance, tapping furiously at his ear.

“Todd!” he hisses. “What do you think you’re doing? Colin is my friend!”

“Robin,” Oracle’s voice comes through the speaker. “No names on the comms. And Hood isn’t wearing his earpiece, so you’ll have to tell him in person.” She sounds amused. “Oracle out.”

Damian swears.

“Holy shit,” Tim says faintly. “Look at them.”

The screen that all the Manor surveillance feeds run to is showing just one room - the library, of all places, but Dick vaguely recalls it being some kind of sanctuary to Jason, years and years ago. It makes sense that he’d end up back there, and it makes sense that he’d have Dani with him. What Dick doesn’t expect to see is little Colin Wilkes, all five feet and change of him, snuggled up to Jason’s side and hugging him, wrapped around his arm like a gangly koala. Dick can’t help but notice that Jason’s bicep is about as big around as Colin’s head, which is certainly...something. He’s not quite ready to classify how he feels about that, so he refocuses on the hug itself, which is nothing short of charming.

Damian grinds his teeth audibly. “It’s still going.”

“Oh, man.” Dick can’t help the grin he feels creeping up the sides of his face. “Bruce, are you seeing this?”

“I am,” Bruce says, stiffly. He looks like he’s in pain. Dick fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“What’s wrong with you? Look how sweet they are!” he exclaims, gesturing. It’s adorable.

“It is not sweet,” Damian snarls, whirling on him. “Todd is a corruptive influence, and Colin is young and impressionable! Where is your concern for him?”

Tim coughs, and it sounds a little bit like “jealous”. Surprisingly, this does not diffuse Damian’s indignation.

“I don’t get it,” Dick says, stepping between them quickly to block Damian’s spinning kick. “I thought you and Jason were fine, Damian. You’ve been spending enough time in our - in his room lately. Where’s this coming from?”

“Incredibly, I don’t feel as concerned about Todd recruiting an infant onto the path of lawlessness,” Damian retorts. “Colin lacks paternal guidance in his life, as you know. Todd clearly senses it.”

“Jason is very paternal these days,” Tim agrees.

“I’m pretty sure it’s just a hug,” Dick says in exasperation. “No one’s recruiting anyone, Damian. And look, it’s over. Your friend is just a hugger, that’s all.”

“I must agree with Master Richard,” Alfred says from behind them. “Having been the recipient of many such embraces from young Master Colin myself.”

“See? I’ve gotten hugs from him too,” Dick tells Damian. “And I know you have, so don’t bother denying it. He’s probably gearing up the courage to get one from Bruce one of these days.”

Bruce looks slightly alarmed by the prospect. “He is?”

Damian looks conflicted. “He is?”

Dick casts his eyes heavenward. “Colin, I’m so sorry.”

Before he can say anything else, the Cave door opens below them, and Duke’s bike comes shooting in, whipping around into its parking spot in a move that would send Dick flying over the handlebars. Bruce takes about half a second to look impressed, and then clears the main screen to pull up their intel on the Falcone case.

“What’s up, guys,” Duke calls, pulling off his helmet and jogging up the steps. “I’ve got news. Where’s Jason?”

“Being hugged, in the library,” Dick tells him. “You just missed it.”

Duke looks nonplussed. “Damn. Wait, that’s not some kind of weird euphemism, is it? If it is, I don’t want to know.”

“It most certainly is not,” Damian says venomously.

“Cool. I tried to get him on the comm, but he didn’t respond. Should I go get him? He’ll want to hear this.”

“Damian will get him,” Bruce says.

Damian is…already on the elevator. Dick spares a thought for Jason. At least he’s holding Dani, so Damian won’t attack him outright.

“Your news?” Bruce prompts.

“Right,” Duke nods. “I’ve been all over City Hall records, and spent yesterday afternoon getting intel in the East End. I’ve got names and faces of most of the major players in this. They’re trying hard to front some distant nephew of Carmine Falcone as the head of the whole operation, but it wasn’t quite adding up. You said the new Falcone boss is a woman, right?” he asks Tim.

Tim nods affirmatively.

Duke looks triumphant. “Then I know who she is.”

***

[98prilla]

To The Dead

Next

Previous

AO3

...

He was trying.

 He really, really was, trying.

 But he couldn’t get Roman’s words out of his head.

 And he’d heard the others, talking to the air, talking to him, they probably thought he didn’t, but he’d always been good at lurking in shadows, in pretending to not exist, he wasn’t surprised, he was able to mask his presence well enough no one could sense him near.

 He’d heard Patton and Janus’s pleas. He’d heard Logan’s well reasoned arguments. He’d heard Roman’s apologies. He knew Roman was blaming himself, that it was tearing all of them up inside, but the thing was, Roman was right.

 There were too many things, that could go wrong. Too many ways he could hurt them, too many ways he could destroy them, and he refused, he refused to drag them into his self-destructive spiral.  

 So, he stuck to the shadows, where no one could find him. He hid in the corners and under the couches and under the beds. He didn’t use his room, not since then they’d know where he was, and he stayed away as much as he could. He was exhausted and unfocused and half even deader than he already was, but he couldn’t let himself rest or he’d fizzle into view.

 The closest he’d gotten was that night, with Patton. Everyone else had already been in their own rooms, and he felt guilty, Patton was staying out there for him, after all, and the least he could do is make sure he was comfortable. And now Patton’s words were rattling around in his skull, too, fighting against Roman’s, and he felt torn in two entirely different directions.

 Maybe that’s why he found himself here, lurking in the shadows of Patton’s room, melted into the ones in the corner of the room. He heard the door open, and he took a deep breath as Patton came in, flopping face first onto the bed, slightly alarmed to hear sniffling emerging from the pillow his face was shoved into.  

 Slowly, he emerged from the wall, his inky, tarlike form slowly forming into something more solid, something that almost felt right, though it had been so long since he’d been anything other than a blob of darkness or a splotch of shadow. But as his form settles, it feels more and more… right.

 “Pa… Patton?” He asked, voice rusty and hoarse, barely above a whisper, but it’s enough. Patton gasped, shooting upwards, and all at once Patton’s eyes were on him.

 “Virgil!” he flinched back at the volume, form already destabilizing, it was harder to hold now, that he hadn’t in months. “sorry, sorry. I’m just… I’m glad to see you, kiddo. We've been worried.” He said softer, wanting to lunge, pull Virgil into a hug, but knowing he'd run if he did.

 “so-rry. I-" he flinched, a strange feeling coming over him, an almost nausea, almost vertigo, and he found himself on the ground, gasping as cold washed over him.

 “Virgil!” he could tell Patton had yelled his name several times, but he couldn’t seem to hear right, the world was blurring and going fuzzy. Not just the world, he was blurring, his form bleeding away like a water color painting. He felt Patton's hand on his arm, trying to say something, then the world shifted out from under him, Patton's hand swiping through empty air as he vanished.

…

He stumbled hard, shoulder ramming into the wall, as he heaved in several deep breaths, trying to keep from full out panicking.

 He felt weird. Solid. His body had weight, his form wasn’t flickering, he was leaning against the wall, but it wasn’t their wall. The house, he was in the house.

 His breath sped again, remembering, shaking, crying, pulling at his hair as he screamed into a pillow, His words echoing in his head, he hasn’t been back here, not in the living room, since then, since he'd done it. He could feel the shadows darkening, starting to move of their own accord, starting to whisper.

 “What the fwuh?” His eyes snapped open at the question, frantically taking in the scene.

 Staring at him were two guys, both wearing twin expressions of shock and fear. Around his feet was a star in a circle outlined in chalk, a candle at each nexus.

 “Summoning circle? What amateur fucking shit is this? Watched full metal alchemist a few too many times?” He choked out, biting sarcasm masking his fear and panic, trying to get the shifting tendrils of shadow slowly climbing the wall under control, succeeding in at least halting their growth.

 “We… we were trying to summon Patton.” The shorter one said. He huffed, vision spinning.

 “Well good job, dipshit, you summoned the literal opposite of that ray of sunshine. Now get me out of here!” He demanded, teeth grit against the strange cold seeping into his bones, the dark tiredness starting to fill him.

 “Um. We don’t actually know how.” The taller one admitted sheepishly.

 “Who are you, anyway? We only knew Patton and Roman.”

 “Uh, no. You don’t get to interrogate me after practically kidnapping me.”

 “Kidnapping… you showed up!” the short one, who seemed to have an attitude.

 “oh yes, because I looove getting dragged to the physical plane of existence and talking to two idiots who think the funnest thing to do is harass people who probably don’t want to have memories of their recent demise brought back to the surface!” He shouted, breathing picking up again, hands clenched into fists, shadows wavering and breaking over the room, though he kept it in enough it didn’t attack, claws and glowing eyes and teeth ready to bite.

 “You’re… Virgil, aren’t you?” He flinched back at that, shaking harder. “Oh shit, dude, I’m-"

 “What? Sorry? Yeah, me too, now let me out!” he snarled, eyes flashing dark voids of shadow, his shadows writhing, and he found he had the anger to control them, and he hissed as one swiped through the chalk, releasing him from its hold as he struggled to stay standing, the circle giving him a truly physical form, draining his own energy to do so.

 “We aren’t fucking toys. We’re people. We all died horrifically, at our hand or at others'. So next time, leave me the hell alone.” He snapped, his shadows encasing him as the solidness faded from his limbs, as his form fell to shreds, as the last of his energy was sucked from him, realizing the circle draining him dry, the crackling electric backlash of breaking the spell hit him full force, sending him reeling.

…

He fell, unceremoniously, crashing down from the ceiling and landing hard on the floor, crying out at the pain that shot through him, his vision flickering. He felt cold, icily cold, exhausted, drained, empty, barely, barely there.

 “-il…-ear me? Virgil!” Roman’s panicked voice cut through his haze, though he found he couldn't answer, couldn't even nod. He was so purely exhausted, he was barely staying together at all. “Oh, love… it’s ok, I’ve got you.” He felt Janus lifting him up, and realized he must have landed in the living room. He thought he should be worried about that, for some reason, but his mind was already hazing over with fog. “Logan! Patton!” He called, the spirits appearing after a moment, any reprimand at being disturbed vanishing as Logan took in the state of Virgil, unconscious and form flickering, not the usual black, but a soft, faded gray. The same kind of gray that he’d seen on the others, on himself, when the wraith was draining them of their soul’s essence. Something had very badly damaged Virgil.

 “What happened?” he demanded, trying to be steady, to keep Patton beside him from panicking.

 “I don’t know. He… he showed up, in my room, then vanished, like he got pulled away, I tried to hold on, but I fell right through him!”

 “Then he fell from the ceiling and crashed to the ground.” Roman finished, lacking his usual bravado.

 “Lo, is he-“

 “No, he’s not fading. Whatever started the drain has stopped, he’s stable, if very weak. An attempt at summoning, if I had to guess. Likely, they didn’t use anything to power the spell itself, so it used Virgil himself. He’s lucky he was able to break out, as he must have, for it to hit him this hard. Otherwise…” Logan trailed off, unwilling to finish that sentence, knowing from the silence the others knew his meaning.

 “He was going to talk to me.” Patton said softly, tucking back a strand of Virgil’s hair, who didn’t seem to register the motion at all, lying still and pale as stone.

 “He still may. He just needs to rest and recuperate, Patton. He will be all right.” Logan reassured, resting a hand on Patton’s shoulder for a moment, before turning away, trying to hide his fondness behind a frown. “Though we should figure out what exactly they did, and stop them from doing it again.”

 No one noticed the green eyes glowing in the corner, alight with anger, at the state of his friend, because Virgil was a friend, whether he liked it or not. It was long past time the humans take notice of him, after all, and this would be a much needed… learning opportunity.

…

“well that could have gone better.” Thomas muttered, shivering slightly. The darkly moving shadows had vanished along with the ghost, the circle now smudged beyond recognition, the icy cold temperature of the room slowly returning to normal.

 “No kidding. How’d you know that one’s name?” Joan asked, still staring at the spot he'd vanished.

 “He… the real estate agent. He had to tell me, the previous tenant, Virgil… died, here. To suicide.” Joan let out a low breath, collapsing back onto the couch, grabbing a pillow to hug to their chest.

 “shit. No wonder he wasn’t happy to be here.”

 “It looked like it was hurting him.” Thomas murmured, remembering how Virgil was clinging to the wall, barely staying upright.

 “That's what happens when you do your research through google search, you silly billies.” They both stared at the glowing green eyes floating above them, the slow Cheshire grin forming out of nothingness to accompany it. “Someone gets hurt.” The voice growled, and suddenly it wasn’t a single pair of eyes, it was thousands, a towering mass of writhing tentacles and blindingly black light, a cavernous maw and a million gnashing, reeking tooth beaked mouths screaming.

 They both gasped for air as the vision vanished just as quick as it came, a few mere seconds, a glance at the clock revealed, though it had felt like they had been trapped with that Lovecraftian creation for hours. Thomas could still feel the vibrations of the clacking beaks, hear the echoes of distant screams, and he could tell from Joan’s horrified expression, they had seen it too.

 “I’m not exactly a fan, of people hurting my friends. Especially when they can’t do much in way of defense or… retaliation-“

 “We didn’t mean to!” Thomas blurted, before the sinister presence could throw them into another nightmare. “We didn’t… we didn’t mean to hurt anyone. We just… Patton seemed lonely. So we were trying to find a way to actually see him, and… and we obviously didn’t do it right. And I’m sorry, for hurting him… Virgil.” He finished, a frown on his lips, thinking of the pain on the ghost’s face. “Is he… is he ok?” He asked, heart pounding a thousand beats a second, terror racing through him.

 “Well, well, well, isn’t that interesting. The human has a conscience.” The voice echoed from every direction, bouncing around the room in the most disorienting pattern, one moment directly in his ear, the next all the way in the kitchen, the next above them near the ceiling, those green eyes and grin always in the corner of their eyes, always vanishing as soon as they turned to look.

 “And what about you, short stack? Got anything to say for yourself, before I decide what to do with the two of you?” Joan gulped, holding the pillow tighter, knuckles white.

 “Uh. He was right. Virgil. It’s not… we shouldn’t treat this like a game. You’re people. Not entertainment. But we do really want to get to know you all… to help, if we can. Even though we’re generally pretty shitty at showing it, that’s what we were trying to do. Help.” They managed, wincing as a dark chuckle rang through the room.  

 “Help, huh?” They yelped as they felt something cold wrap around their ankles, suddenly yanking them off the couch, dragging them across the floor, across the kitchen, to the basement door. Blinking their vision clear, adrenaline racing, they both practically held their breath as they watched a shimmering outline form, cringing as it was filled in with bones, then veins and arteries, pulsating flesh and decaying organs, finally a layer of skin growing over it all, putting a face to that Cheshire grin, the electric green eyes, as the being towered over them, smile wild and manic, eyes ablaze, a morningstar resting over his shoulder, his outfit some weird mix of sparkling satin and menacing velvet. They both flinched back as he leaned down, examining them, before extending a hand.

 “Seems like you two can use all the help you can get. Now, if you’re gonna go full in on this, you gotta learn the basics, and if you abuse what I teach you…”

 They shivered, seeing crimson blood splash across their hands, teeth ripping into their jugulars, shadowy creatures clawing them to shreds, screaming though no one else could hear, unable to move their bodies as inch by inch, their skin was stripped from their flesh, ants eating them from the inside out.

 “And it’ll be twice as bad if you harm any of them ever again. There won’t be anywhere you can hide, that I won’t find you, and believe me, it’ll be a pleasure.” Their vision cleared, the images wiped away like fog on a bathroom mirror, forgotten nearly instantly, though the feeling of dread and terror lingered. “So. You in, or are you pussies?” Joan snorted despite themselves, earning an eye roll from Thomas, and a slight upturn of the lips from the being, though he still glared daggers at them. Thomas took a deep breath, accepting the outstretched hand, surprised as he made contact, and it helped pull him to his feet, solid, though it didn’t feel quite… real. Joan followed suit a moment later.

 “Ok. I want to learn.” He answered solemnly, Joan nodding in agreement, gaze serious in a way it rarely was.

 “Me too. If we’re gonna be the crazy ghost house people, we might as well really go for it.”

 “It’s been a while, since I had such willing students. Oh, this’ll be fun!” He clapped, eyes swirling, teeth slightly too sharp.

 “So… when do we start?” Joan asked, and Remus tsked.

 “Patience. I have to get back before they wonder where I’ve went, and you have to start living like a normal person and not staying up until two scrolling tumblr!”

 “What does that have to do with ghost summoning?”

 “Nothing, just good life advice. Take from me, who’s never actually been alive!” Thomas and Joan exchanged a puzzled look.

 “Aren’t you a ghost?” He cackled, a wild, howling sound, that sent shivers down their spines, as he wiped away tears from his eyes, floating on his back in midair.

 “Oh, sweet summer children, you naive innocent fools, you’re lucky I’m in a good mood, otherwise it would be so very easy to break you. No, no, no, I’m not a ghost at all. I am a poltergeist!” He declared, suddenly close to Thomas’s face, gently booping his nose, those swirling eyes far too close for comfort as they stared into his. “And you may call me Remus.”

[aniray]

Where You Least Expect It...

Here's the first part of my 5 part story.

It's Tommy x Lizzie. A Modern Surrogacy AU

~*~

“I’m so nervous, Thomas.”

Tommy looked over a Grace. Her golden hair was falling a bit out of the neat ponytail she had put it in that morning. She was fidgeting with the brochure from the clinic. If she twisted it anymore, Tommy was sure the thing would tear apart. But he didn’t say anything. He simply reached over and pulled the brochure out of her hand.

“Thanks,” she sighed. But two seconds later she was running her fingers along her brow. “God, Thomas, we tried so hard. And we’ve spent so much on all of this. Should we have gone with adoption?” They had had this same conversation the night before, and last week, and two months ago. But the answer was always the same. Grace sat up straighter, her head lifting a bit in determination. “No, this is what I want for us. A baby that’s at least part you, even if it can’t be part me as well.”

It had taken Grace a long time to accept the doctors’ verdict that she wouldn’t have children. After months and months of hormone treatments and strict dieting and far too many nights of his wife crying herself to sleep, Grace had let go of the idea of carrying her own child. And then there were even more months of trying to harvest her eggs. But when none of them were viable, Tommy had to step in before depression stole Grace away from him.

So they had turned to surrogacy. It wasn’t quite what Grace had wanted- having to use another woman’s egg as well as her body. But it was the closest to what Grace wanted and could actually get. So Tommy had gone to information seminars. He had read up on the different agencies. And when Grace had picked a place and a girl, Tommy didn’t voice his own worries. This was what Grace needed and he needed her, so this was what they would do.

The GPS told Tommy to take the next turn. But he’d already memorized how to reach the facility. Planning was what he did when he was unsure about things. Take control wherever he could had always been his way, but even more so since this whole fertility process had started. Polly was annoyed about it. Arthur was pulling at the leash. And John had gone and fucked his way into early fatherhood.

Something Grace wouldn’t admit she was hurt and bitter about.

Another turn and the facility came into view. It was nothing special, just a plain brick building. But it was clean and highly recommended. And mostly it was discreet- something Tommy had insisted on even if Grace hadn’t been concerned. Business was doing well and that always brought people who would rather Tommy or his loved ones not be breathing.

Pulling into a parking spot, Tommy turned the car off and turned to face Grace. “You ready?” He watched the emotions flit across her face. It was something not many people got to see. Grace had been raised to keep her emotions to herself. And then she had worked as a financial security investigator. Succeeding in that world meant not letting CEOs and their like see you anything other than calm and in control.  So for her to show her fear and her anxiousness with him was just another thing to prove that they were supposed to be together.

“I don’t know. I just- I shouldn’t be nervous. It’s all been arranged. The papers have been signed.” She turned to look at him and Tommy felt a twinge in his chest at the tears in her eyes. “Its not even me who has to do anything. You’re the one about to…you know.” Tommy smiled. Always so proper.  “But what if we do it and she changes her mind? Or you change your mind? What if-“

“I’m not changing my mind. She won’t change hers, either. And even if she does, this baby will be a Shelby. That’s why we got a lawyer for all of this, remember?” Tommy tucked a few strands of her hair back up into her ponytail. “Now, come on. It would look a bit bad if we were late because we took too long in the parking lot.”

Grace gave him a smile- the one that always seemed to make his world a bit brighter. “You’re right. I’m ready.” With a quick nod, Tommy got out of the car and went around to open the passenger door. Grace didn’t hesitate. She got out and took his hand as he closed the door. She was calm and strong and beautiful walking beside him.

And he’d be damned if this all went to shit.

~*~

The clinic was cold.

It always was, but today it bothered Lizzie a little bit more than the other times she’d come. They had her sitting in a small conference room, waiting for the couple she’d agreed to carry for- the Shelbys. Grace and Thomas Shelby. Wealthy, and from what Lizzie had heard from a staff member, trying this before settling for adoption. She didn’t like that word- settling. It reminded her of too many decisions she’d made in her life. 

But that wasn’t really the point, was it? No, the point was, she was sitting in a cold room about to meet the people she’d be dealing with for the next ten months more or less. And she still wasn’t sure this was what she wanted. You already signed the damn papers, Lizzie. The thought didn’t make her feel any more ready for this. But she was a bit desperate.

Ryan, the asshole, had harassed her for years before she finally quit working for him. She had dealt with enough men putting their hands on her in her life. That’s why she had left her home town, club work and waitressing all behind her. And now she was leaving Ryan and his too small office and his too rough hands behind her, too.

“Don’t think about him. He doesn’t deserve it.” Standing up from the seat she was in, Lizzie paced the room. Everything was so…bright. The walls were white with framed pieces of abstract art to break up the monotony. The windows were frosted to let light in while keeping everything inside private. But stuck in the room alone Lizzie just felt like she had stepped into some Sci-fi horror movie. “Get a grip. It’s not that bad.”

She had just made her way to the far side of the room for the thirteenth time when she heard voices. Quickly, Lizzie went back to the seat she’d started in. Her heart was pounding suddenly. Her palms were sweating. This was it- there was no going back after those doors opened. A knock came half a second before the door opened. Dr. Stone came in with one of the office assistants right behind her.

And then she saw her- a well-dressed woman with her blond hair up in a high ponytail. This was the woman who would be raising the baby Lizzie was going to have. She looked so elegant. It made Lizzie a little self-conscious, honestly. But then a man stepped into the room and shut the door. He wore a very nice suit- obviously tailored for him. His expression was neutral, but Lizzie had a feeling it was an intimidation tactic more than lack of interest. She eyed the way he stood and realized that behind his respectable appearance, this man was dangerous.

Suddenly self-consciousness was replaced by trepidation. But Lizzie forced herself to smile. Dr. Stone motioned for the Shelby’s to take a seat and Lizzie watched as Thomas pulled out Grace’s chair for her. The two shared a quick smile and Lizzie looked away. It was barely anything, but it had felt intimate. She turned her attention to Dr. Stone. The woman stood at the head of the table as the assistant passed out three folders.

“Alright, let’s get started. First off, Ms. Stark,” she said turning to face Lizzie, “This is Thomas and Grace Shelby. They are the couple that we felt would be best for you.” Then she turned to the Shelbys. “Mr. and Mrs. Shelby, this is Elizabeth Stark. She will be your surrogate. We have done an extensive background check on both parties, the results of which are in your folders. The contract you signed is included as well, for your records.”

Lizzie shifted a bit in her seat at the mention of background checks. She’d told them about her past, she had agreed to the check, but it still made her nervous knowing these fancy people would see her entire life laid out on paper.  Mr. Shelby lifted his head and caught Lizzie’s eye. She forced herself to be still and focus back in on what Dr. Stone was saying. “We have already collected Lizzie’s ovum and it is ready for fertilization. That process will happen today after we collect Mr. Shelby’s sperm. At the end of this I’ll have the three of you sign a document stating that we went over all of this. And then in about three to five days Ms. Stark will come back in to have the embryos implanted.”

It all sounded so clinical. She’d known that, of course. She’d done the homework and all the reading. She’d even gone to see a lawyer about what rights she did and didn’t have during the pregnancy. But sitting there in that white room with the frosted windows, Lizzie couldn’t help feeling… Honestly she didn’t know what she was feeling. She heard Dr. Stone ask if there were any questions and she shook her head. She knew what happened next.

“Alright then. Mr. Shelby you can follow Erin and she’ll take you to a private room. A nurse will give you instructions.” Lizzie felt an absurd bubble of laughter rising. The idea of a nurse having to tell a man how to handle himself seemed a bit hilarious for some reason. But she bit her tongue and kept her head down until the man was out of the room. “Now that it’s just us ladies,” Dr. Stone continued, “I think it would be good for you ladies to discuss things. I’ve found that the women have the hardest time figuring out their roles in each other’s lives during this process. So I’ll leave you two to chat.”

Then she was gone, and Lizzie was alone with Grace.

~*~

She’s pretty.

It was the first thing that had entered into Grace’s head as she walked into the conference room. The second was that this baby wouldn’t have any features that could be ‘from’ Grace. She hadn’t really thought about it before, but perhaps subconsciously she had assumed the clinic would find a blond woman. Or at least someone with the same eye color that Grace had. But no, instead here was this green eyed, raven-haired, beauty.

A sliver of insecurity had threatened to rise when she saw Elizabeth Stark. Thomas had always preferred dark-haired women. It was something that his family never seemed to let her forget. And every woman who had ever impressed Thomas, especially in business, had dark hair. Most times it didn’t bother her- this obvious inclination her husband had. Most of the time she simply reminded his family that she, and not these others, had been the one Thomas married. But today- the day she felt so lacking as a wife and a woman- all she could see was dark hair.

Of course, Thomas barely glanced at Ms. Stark. Grace knew that he had no interest in the woman. And to be fair, the woman kept her focus on Dr. Stone.  But insecurity was not logical. So when Dr. Stone had left them alone to ‘chat’ Grace found herself trying desperately to keep all of the anxiety she felt from showing.

“So,” the other woman started. “Is there anything you want to ask me?” Grace fixed her eyes on the woman across from her. Her voice was soft, but her speech was more like Thomas’ when he was tired. Opening the folder, Grace skimmed the neatly printed words until she found what she was looking for. ‘Place of Birth: Small Heath, Birmingham.’  She preferred to be called Lizzie, the paper said. “I have a few for you, if that’s alright?”

Again Grace met Lizzie’s eyes. “Of course. What don’t you understand?” She could hear it- the ice that had crept into her voice. It was the tone she used in boardrooms and closed-door meetings with men who had too much power. And Lizzie didn’t like it. But for some reason Grace couldn’t bring herself to regret her tone.

“It says in the contract that I’ll be living in your guest house during the pregnancy.” Lizzie paused for a moment and Grace wondered if it was to collect her thoughts or to keep from running out of the room. “But it also said that if, once we met properly, either party wanted to renegotiate that…”

Grace arched a brow. “Are you suggesting that we let you live somewhere separate from us?” And she hated that she could hear her mother in her own voice. But it was a ridiculous idea. Surely Ms. Stark could see that. An incredulous smile came to Grace’s lips. “How would we know if something happened? This is not your child, Ms. Stark. This is mine and my husband’s child. Why would we allow a stranger to just go off with our baby?”

A flash of defiance showed in Lizzie’s eyes. She had sat up straighter in her chair, leaning forward a bit. “I understand your concern. But what exactly do you think I’m going to be doing at my place? Snorting blow and having orgies?” Grace’s nose crinkled at the mental image. “Listen, Mrs. Shelby, I’ll come by and visit every day. You’ll be at every appointment. But I don’t think it would be good to live so close together. I don’t want to get attached.”

She was trying to manipulate her. Grace could hear it. She could see it. But it didn’t make Lizzie’s point any less valid. And the last thing Grace needed was for Lizzie to decide that she wanted to fight for custody of this baby. Still, the idea of her not being just a walk across the lawn from her child… “No. I’m sorry, but no. Not this early. Maybe toward the third trimester-“

“I’ll be huge and tired and it’ll be too much trouble to move by then.”

But Grace didn’t back down. She couldn’t- not with this. She stared the other woman down, neither willing to give up their positions. But Grace had years of experience getting her way. And Lizzie Stark was not going to change that. “We��ll hire movers. You’ll never lift a finger except to get into the car when everything is finished.”

Lizzie lifted her chin and Grace prepared herself to fight whatever argument came next. Only one never came. Lizzie nodded slowly and leaned back in her seat. “Alright. No later than the start of the third trimester.” Then she stood up and walked out of the room.  Grace sat at the table, heart pounding. She gave up too easily. She had put Grace on the backfoot, as Thomas would say, and she didn’t like it.

Mostly she wondered if she’d just ruined a chance at getting through this in peace.

~*~

Grace was alone when Tommy got back. And she was upset. He could tell by the stiffness of her shoulders and the tilt of her head as she stood at one of the windows. He had seen the doctor on his way back to the little conference room. She told him that Grace and the woman- Ms. Stark- were having a chat. It had sounded friendly enough, but still he’d picked up his pace. And now he was glad he had.

“What happened?”

Grace turned from the window to face him and Tommy could see the fear she’d pushed away was back. “I just-“ Grace took a deep breath. “I think I’ve started something. Between me and the surrogate.” Tommy tilted his head in confusion. Grace’s shoulders slumped and Tommy watched her blink back tears. “She wanted to stay at her own place. Simple enough, right? And I said no. No, Tommy, don’t look like that. I told her ‘no’ the way my mother told you she wouldn’t be able to come to the wedding.”

Tommy winced at that. Mrs. Burgess has made no effort to hide how much she hated Tommy and his family and the fact that he had married her daughter. She hadn’t come to the wedding. And when she announced as much, she had been cold and disdainful and the most well-spoken bitch that Tommy had ever dealt with. And now Grace was telling him she’d treated the surrogate that way?

“Alright. So you were a bit cold to her. Why? We said it would be fine if she didn’t live with us. It’s in the contract that living arrangements were negotiable.” He hadn’t wanted to have any new people on their property- not even in the guest house. And Grace hadn’t seemed so set on it either. “I read the file, there’s nothing in there that says she shouldn’t be on her own.”

Grace rolled her eyes in exasperation. It was something she didn’t do often. “I know, Thomas. But I just hate the idea of her having our baby so far from us. I mean, we don’t know her. What if she smokes? What if she drinks and the baby is born with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome.” Tommy held in a sigh. He knew Grace- she didn’t think any of those things would happen. She was just nervous and trying to keep as much control as possible. It was something he’d done far too often to not see the signs.

Coming around the table, Tommy set his hands on Grace’s shoulders. “Stop. I didn’t want her at the house to begin with. But you agreed, if she wanted to stay at her own place she could.” His arms went around his wife and Tommy held her tight. “We’ve got her number. We’ll call, invite her to lunch one day. You can apologize-“ Grace scoffed and Tommy shook his head with a smile. “You can apologize and then the three of us can figure out the living situation. No big deal. Alright?”

He pulled back to see Grace’s face. Her lips were set in a pout and her eyes were red-rimmed, but she was still beautiful. “Yes, that’s fine.” She lifted up and gave him a quick kiss. “Thank you for calming me down. Thank you for all of this. I love you, you know?”

“I know. Now come on. We’ve got reservations for dinner.”

~*~

Four Days Later

Lizzie had just walked in the front door when her phone rang. Fishing it out of her pocket, her brows scrunched together as she looked at the unfamiliar number. It had been a long day. She had taken the day to go to the library and read up on what to expect during the first three months of pregnancy. It had been information overload. And then she had gone to the clinic for them to implant the embryos. It had been fairly easy, but now she couldn’t’ stop thinking about the fact that this was all real now. More real than it had been when it was just talk and paperwork.

So she wasn’t really in the mood for a bill collector or one of those scam calls telling her she’d won a free vacation to Aruba. So she tossed her phone on the sofa and made her way to the kitchen. There wasn’t much in it- rent came first these days. But that would change soon. The clinic had given her a check as she left from the Shelbys. It was to cover her food, rent, and utilities for the month- until it was confirmed that a baby would be showing up in approximately nine months.  

Standing at her mostly empty refrigerator, Lizzie pulled out the milk and a carton of strawberries. Turning to grab a glass from the cupboard, the sound of her ringtone came again. Setting the milk and berries on the counter she rushed back to the living room and snatched up her phone and answered. “Hello?”

“Is this Elizabeth Stark?” Lizzie tensed at the deep voice on the other end. It was the last voice she expected to hear. She pulled the phone from her ear and looked at the screen. The same number from a minute ago was on the display. Quickly she put the phone back to her ear. “Yes, this is she.”

There was a pause on the other end and she thought she heard someone else speaking in the background. “Good. This is Tommy Shelby. My wife and I were wondering if you’d like to join us for dinner one day this week.” Lizzie blinked, then blinked again. She hadn’t expected that. And she really couldn’t understand why Mrs. Shelby would want to see her. “Ms. Stark, are you there?” Mr. Shelby asked, a hint of impatience in his tone.

“Yes, sorry. I’m here. Um..” God, Lizzie, just fucking say no. Because she really didn’t want to see them before she’d gone back to the clinic. She wanted as much of her freedom as she could get before their lives became enmeshed. “Sure. I mean, that would be fine. Do you have a day in mind?” She hadn’t needed to read the file Dr. Stone had given her to know that the Shelbys had very busy lives. They might try to make it sound like this was all spur of the moment, but Lizzie knew better.

Another pause, then the click of someone typing. “Wednesday at six?” Lizzie got the feeling that she was not the one that question was being directed to. Not that it really mattered. She didn’t feel like she had much of a say in all of this anyway. Especially after how things had gone at the clinic with Grace. “So does six o’clock Wednesday work for you, Ms. Stark?”

“You can just call me Lizzie. And yes, that works fine. Where should I meet you?” She hoped it wasn’t anywhere too pricey. She didn’t want them to pay for her, but she also hated pretending she wasn’t hungry at places simply because she couldn’t afford more than water. So of course the place Mr. Shelby named was a fancy restaurant downtown. “Sounds good. See you then,” she replied, stomach twisting itself into knots.

“And Lizzie? Call me Tommy.”

Lizzie mumbled her assent and quickly got off the phone. She looked back at the screen, brain still processing the last…three minutes and twenty-six seconds. ‘Call me Tommy’ he’d said. Tommy- such an innocent sounding name. A name that made you think of little boys running after a ball or the shy kid in high-school who was always really sweet. But somehow when Mr. Shelby said it, all those thoughts disappeared. Instead you were left with that old school Mafia vibe. Darkness and danger wrapped up in every syllable.

“Great, Liz, just great. You’ve really stuck yourself with quite the pair, haven’t you?”

~*~

Tommy motioned for the waiter to bring him another whiskey.

So far dinner had been awful. Lizzie had arrived on time, dressed appropriately, if not quite up to the usual price standards for the place. She had been nervous, but tried to hide it. And Tommy had been sure that once they got settled at their table things would begin to smooth over.

He did not expect Grace to insult Lizzie’s dress. He didn’t expect to hear his wife- who had been completely apologetic before getting to the restaurant- turn into her mother the minute Lizzie arrived. And he didn’t expect to have to make small talk to cover the tension. He wasn’t good at small talk. It was always Grace who handled things like that when business required playing nice with people.

He’d given up two whiskeys ago. Instead he sat and watched as Grace ate her meal and Lizzie sipped at the lemonade she’d ordered. He’d told her he was paying- to order what she wanted. She’d refused. It’d been a while since Tommy had been broke. But not long enough that he forgot how fucking annoying it was to take handouts. So he didn’t push the issue.

But it had been almost an hour and the tension was starting to aggravate him. So, Tommy reached over and took Grace’s hand, ignoring his wife’s questioning look, before turning to Lizzie. “So, Lizzie, we asked you here because we wanted to get some things settled.” He felt Grace tense beside him while he watched Lizzie stiffen in her seat. Tommy didn’t miss the way her eyes slid to Grace for a moment. “I believe things may have gotten off to a bad start.”

“Yes,” Grace said, “I think there were misunderstandings on both sides.” There hadn’t been- not from what Grace had told Tommy. But he kept his thoughts to himself. “Ms. Stark, Lizzie, I hope you know that I wasn’t trying to force you into anything. I just feel so protective of my baby already.” Lizzie didn’t respond. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Lizzie reached for her glass and took a sip of her lemonade. Tommy could see her thinking. He knew she was trying to decide if Grace had meant what she said. Not that it really mattered. The papers were signed, she had gone to the clinic to have the embryos implanted. This was happening. But he didn’t want Grace upset. And he didn’t want to have to fight for custody of this baby. So he wanted the two women to play nicely.

Setting her glass back down Lizzie looked at Grace. “I’m glad you feel so protective. It’s nice, knowing that this baby will be taken care of. And I hope that we can get through this whole thing without any problems. So I will stay until the end of the second trimester.” She turned to Tommy. “But I still think it would be better if I stayed at my own place from the beginning. Like I told Mrs. Shelby, I’ll visit every day and you are going to be at the doctor’s appointments anyway. So I don’t see why I need to live on your property.”

“But,” Tommy turned to Grace. “As I explained to you, it’s a matter of safety and knowing what is happening with our child,” Grace said. “You obviously have financial issues. And in your background check it said that you’ve been in trouble a few times. I just need to know that you aren’t going to do anything that could harm my baby.”

Tommy stared at Grace. They had talked about this. They had gone over how things would go at the dinner. And she’d gone off course from the minute Lizzie arrived. He tossed back the rest of his whiskey and tried to think of a way to salvage this. But he could see it in his wife’s eyes- she’d dug in her heels. “Grace.” She turned to face him, eyes bright with defiance. “We agreed, yeah? We wouldn’t force anything.”

He felt Lizzie’s eyes on him. It made him uncomfortable- having someone see him and Grace like this. He didn’t like people seeing the inner workings of his marriage. But it couldn’t be helped. Not this time. “It’s fine. Alright? It’s fine. But I’m still going to need rent money. I’ll need to still have a place after this is all over with.” Tommy reluctantly looked away from Grace. The woman facing him had just as much defiance in her eyes as his wife, but her shoulders were slumped in defeat. It was an odd sight.

“Can you be ready to move by Wednesday after next?” It was two weeks, and Tommy didn’t think Grace would wait much longer. And he just wanted this whole thing to be over. He had business that needed his attention and he couldn’t referee between his wife and the surrogate. Lizzie tensed, but nodded. For the first time Tommy wondered just how bad off she was to be going through with all of this. “Movers will be at your apartment on the day, then.”

He saw the waiter and motioned for the bill.

~*~

“What the fuck was that?”

Grace winced. “I know. Thomas, I know. She just-“

“Just what? Showed up on time? Ordered a drink? Agreed to what you fucking wanted?” She bit her lip. She hated fighting with Tommy. It didn’t happen often. They understood each other too well for that, usually. But this whole thing was increasing Grace’s anxiety. “You were meant to apologize. The whole point was to smooth things over so we don’t have problems later.”

Grace felt a spike of fear at those words. It would be so easy for Ms. Stark to sue for custody. It would be so easy for her to terminate the contract- abort the baby. And Grace knew she wasn’t helping matters. If anything she was making things worse. But she couldn’t seem to help it. “I’m just scared, Thomas.”

Her husband looked over at her from the driver’s seat. But instead of the usual softness and love, Grace found Tommy’s face tight with annoyance and his eyes cooler than they’d been with her in a long time. “You can’t let that matter. You can’t let the fear get into your head and muck it up. We had a plan. You broke from the plan, Grace. And that- that shit that happened back there? That’ll be what fucks this whole thing up in the end.”

The rest of the drive was silent. It was excruciating, mainly because Grace knew Tommy was right. But that insecure part of her couldn’t let herself care. She couldn’t admit it, not to him. Not when he was defending that woman. It shouldn’t feel like this. None of this should feel the way it did. Grace should be happy. Tommy should be happy. They should be planning for a baby to arrive, not fighting over the woman who was carrying said baby.

But…She saw the way Lizzie had watched Thomas. Grace had seen something in her eyes that made her wonder. Something that made her want to hold him tighter, closer. And she’d seen the way Thomas had looked at Lizzie- there had been an understanding there. When Lizzie had only ordered lemonade, when she had politely declined to let Tommy pay for her meal- he’d looked at her like he recognized something in her. It was something Grace didn’t recognize and she hated it- that small thing that Thomas and this woman shared.

The car pulling to a stop brought Grace out of her troubling thoughts. They were home. The sun was just setting behind the house and it cast a golden glow over everything. It was beautiful- perfect. Thomas had picked it for her as a surprise and she had fallen in love with it immediately. And every time she returned, no matter how upset or scared or hurt she might be, seeing it always made Grace smile. But not this time.  This time her eyes went to the guest house to the left of the property- almost out of sight.

“She’s going to live there, Thomas. She’d going to be right there.” She felt her husband’s eyes on her. It wasn’t comforting like she had grown accustomed to. This time his gaze was too heavy. “It feels too close. But I can’t stand the idea of her being a step farther away. God, I wish…” But it didn’t matter what she wished. Her wishes hadn’t come true even after all the money and the medicine and the tears.

Thomas got out and walked around to the passenger’s side. He opened her door like always, and gave her his hand to help her out of the car. But the warmth of his hand was gone as soon as she was securely on her feet. He closed the door and went into the house- without her. The only other time he’d done that was the night Ada had gone missing. He’d run in to make calls- to find his baby sister.

This time he just didn’t want to be near his wife.

[lefaystrent]

Could you write a short story where Virgil is out at a store, Deceit and Remus spot him. Virgil is like F social interaction. Then is only rude because he really didn't feel like being noticed by people who recognize him. (Patton could be another costumer, Roman a cashier who is working there when not acting, Logan getting supplies for a science class at school)

A Storm Rolled into Town

Fandom: Thomas Sanders,Sanders Sides

Pairings: none

Summary: It’s not likeVirgil meant to become famous anyway. It just sorta happened. And now he’sshopping in some small-town mom-and-pop store on a weekday morning. Despitewearing the hood of his jacket up and perhaps looking the more conspicuous forit, he can sense that someone somewhere in this store is watching him.

Word Count: 2150

________________________________________________________________

Virgil Storm was born with eyes inthe back of his head.

Not literally. It was mostly justanxiety and paranoia working in tandem to create a 360° zone of caffeinated caution.A necessary skill when you became part of the famous crowd. All it took was onecrazy person with a knife screaming about how you’re meant to be together, andthen you’re fucking dead.

Not that Virgil had been assaultedby anyone.

Yet.

He has had experiences witha couple of stalkers before that were quickly handled. It’s amazing how whenmore than a handful of people know your name and can buy your merch, theirsense of entitlement turns you into a thing to be owned.

It’s not like Virgil meant tobecome famous anyway. It just sorta happened.

And now he’s shopping in some small-townmom-and-pop store on a weekday morning. He had to make a pit-stop on his longdrive back home to Florida. Sure, he could have gotten home faster if he’dridden in a plane. He could also set this store on fire or go jump in a lakewhile strapped to an anvil. Doesn’t mean he’s going to.

The point is, Virgil is very awareof how famous he is, and despite wearing the hood of his jacket up and perhapslooking the more conspicuous for it, he can sense that someone somewhere inthis store is watching him.

Virgil glances down the aislebehind him, but there’s nothing. Again.

He lets out a huff of air andcontinues to peruse the candy section. He’s got a craving for something sour,but he’s not looking to get accosted here.

He swipes up a packet of gummy wormsand goes around to the chip rack next. Virgil subtly peeks around the store,noting the two guys manning the register counter. They look young, maybe aroundtwenty. They’re more talking and laughing rather than working. Other than them,there’s this one nerdy looking guy in a tie and glasses over by the stationary.The store seems empty otherwise.

Virgil picks up a large bag of sourcream ‘n onion and nearly screams when there’s a mustached face poking out inthe space left behind.

“Boo!” the man says.

“Fuck off!” Virgil growls andthrows the chip bag right at the face.

A series of snickers come back fromthe candy aisle that Virgil had just vacated. Pissed off and heart racing, hewhips his head around to see some guy in a bowler hat.

“I do believe the phrase ‘got you’fits this scene well,” Bowler Hat says.

“You didn’t ‘get’ anything,” Virgilhisses.

“Oh? So you didn’t just jump likeyou’d seen a ghost?”

“He definitely jumped, Dee! He evenpeed his pants!” Mustached Man cackled, coming out from behind the chip rack.

“I didn’t—” Virgil went to defendhimself but found it pointless. These guys just seemed like assholes. “Justleave me alone.”

“Oh poo, have some fun would you?”

“Now Remus, let’s not annoy him toomuch. Wouldn’t want him to storm out.”

Storm.

He made it very clear that he knewVirgil’s last name. If the pointed pun didn’t say as much, the smarmy grin onBowler Hat’s face surely did.

Virgil tried not to show how muchthat got to him.

“So what? You know who I am. Bigdeal. Buzz off and let me shop in peace.” If these two kept harassing him orworse, Virgil could always threaten to call the cops. Then again, cops took afew minutes to respond, and it only took less than a second to die.

New plan. Virgil could throw downthe chip rack and then run for his life. And if that didn’t work, he carriedpepper spray on his person for a reason.

“What brings someone such asyourself to our neck of the woods?” Bowler Hat questioned, not leaving Virgilalone in the slightest.

Mustached Man jumped up beside hisfriend, leaning an arm against his shoulder to loudly whisper, “I bet he needsto hide a dead body!”

Virgil’s eye twitched. “Yeah,because that’s the only reasonable explanation, right?”

Mustached Man nodded in agreement. “Nothingelse to do around here.”

“It does get rather dull here,”Bowler Hat mused. He brushed his gloved fingers over his chin.

Seriously, who the hell were theseguys? And were they intentionally being low-key threatening? Perhaps not, butthat’s how they were coming across anyway.

“That’s nice.” Virgil smiled in away that showed his utter contempt. Better than showing his fear. “Now if you’redone bothering me, I’ve got things to buy.”

He would have liked something morethan just the gummy worms, but he no longer felt hungry enough to risk hislife.

Virgil walked away, his stepspicking up speed as he heard Mustached Man barking at him.

He was never stopping anywhere everagain.

________________________________________________________________

Roman sat at the register counter,bored out of his mind.

“Patton, my loyal companion. Remindme why we’re here again?”

“Because we get paid to be here.”

“Ah.” Roman nodded, eyes narrowedin deep understanding.

Then he slumped over with a whimperingwhine. His head banged against the countertop.

“Awww, cheer up Ro-Ro! We’ve only gota few more hours left of our shift!”

“My shackled soul is unmoved byyour comfort. They are but mere words in the face of unforgiving oppression.”

“…so what you’re saying is that youneed a pun, right? Or maybe a hug. A combination of the two? A pug. Oh!Doggy!”

Roman snorted as Patton’s train ofthought derailed. He sat up to stare at his coworker and long-time friend.

He snapped his fingers. “Focus,Puffball.”

“Oh, right,” Patton said,refocusing. His expression became determined. “Go on and get all the angst out,kiddo. I’m all ears.”

“Retail suuuuuucks,” Roman concluded.“My creative spirit yearns for a place I can spread my wings and thrive! I ammeant for bigger and better stages. You see this face? You hear this voice? Alltoo good to be squandered away in Backwoodsville, Tennessee.”

“We don’t live in Tennessee.”

“My point is that I am a work ofart, and yet I am left collecting dust in grandma’s attic. It is a crime! Theuniverse should give me a break already.”

From the stationary aisle, afamiliar voice contributed to the conversation, “Perhaps if you put nearly asmuch effort into publicizing yourself to the entertainment community instead ofwhining, you wouldn’t be stuck where you are now.”

Roman slammed a hand on thecounter. “No one asked you, Microsoft Nerd!”

Logan smirked and resumed hisshopping. They knew each other of course. It was hard not to recognize everyonewhen you worked in one of the only stores in town. Plus all three of them hadgone to high school together.

Patton patted Roman’s shoulder insympathy. “I think what Logan’s trying to say is that you’ve got loads of potentialand I’m sure someone’s going to notice one day.”

“That is not what I said at all,but go off I guess,” Logan stated.

Roman flipped him off. Somehow, despitehis back turned to him, Logan must have sensed it and returned the gesture rightback to him.

Patton swatted at Roman’s hands. “Don’tbe ugly!”

“That’s impossible for someone likeme.” Roman grinned.

Patton sighed. “What am I going todo with you?”

“Love me, of course.”

Patton giggled.

“Hi,” a clipped voice cut in. Romantore his attention away from the agony of his life to regard the customer athis counter.

Roman hopped up from his seat andshifted flawlessly into his customer service spiel. “Hello! Ready to check out?”

“Yeah,” the man nodded, his hoodfalling back a bit at the movement.

Roman smiled. He recognized thejacket brand and was about to compliment the customer’s taste.

Their eyes met briefly and Roman’sheart exploded.

Virgil Storm.

Virgil freaking Storm was standingat his register counter.

No. No it couldn’t—

HOLY SHIT!

“That’s it,” Virgil Storm said,tossing a pack of sour gummy worms onto the counter. He briefly glanced overhis shoulder as if to look for something. He wasn’t really paying attention toRoman, so he didn’t catch being ogled.

Oh god, Virgil Storm was standingat his register. No matter how many times Roman looked, Virgil Stormstood there, and all Roman could do was ogle him.

Roman suddenly found the candypacket very interesting.

If he kept his head down, nothingbad would happen, right?

“Uh . . . that’s it,” Virgil saidagain, and Roman realized that he’d been standing there frozen.

Willing his limbs to unthaw, Romanmechanically reached for the candy and ran it over the scanner. A beep sounded,and with a stiff arm, he punched for the total.

“Your total is . . . a number.”

“What?”

Roman couldn’t even look up farenough to check the screen. How could he? When one of his idols stood beforehim. He owned all of this man’s albums, for God’s sake!

“Yes,” Roman said, as if thatexplained everything.

“Okay . . .” Virgil said. Heshuffled, presumably getting his wallet out or something. Internally, Roman wasscreaming to Patton for help, but sadly his friend had never mastered telepathy.In fact, he had no idea what Patton was doing right now. He wasn’t sayinganything, that was for sure. Did he even recognize the celebrity in their storeright now?

“Here,” Virgil offered a five-dollarbill.

Roman blinked at it. Wasn’t VirgilStorm rich? Why was he using cash when he could use a card?

Carefully, lest he mess up andforever embarrass himself, Roman reached up and took the bill from him. Theirfingers weren’t even close to touching, but Roman still felt like he’d steppedon a live-wire, a shock racing through his system.

Roman had dreamed many a time ofcasually running into his idols. He imagined nearly daily of becoming likethem, of leaving his mark, of impressing those that he looked up to. He wouldbe suave and graceful and witty, a dazzling star in the making who would sweepthem off their feet.

Instead Roman hunched in on himselfand began to cry.

“Oh shit, are you okay?” VirgilStorm asked him, and that somehow made everything worse.

Roman covered his face with hishands and sniffled. “I’m just feeling a little emotional right now.”

How mortifying.

A hand rubbed at his back. “Sorry,he’s having a quarter-life crisis,” he heard Patton explain.

Roman threw up his arms,tear-streaked face be damned. “PATTON! That’s not why I’m crying.”

“It’s okay Ro, it happens to a lotof people. It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“I knew retail work was hell, butgeez,” Virgil commented.

Patton nodded in sympathy. “Hereally wants to be on Broadway someday.”

“Patton,” Roman gasped in admonishment.“You can’t just be telling V— telling people about my silly dreams.”

“Why’s it silly?” Patton asked. “You’reso talented! You’ll make it, I know you will. You’ve just gotta keep trying.”

This could not be happening rightnow. Roman wanted to curl up in the employee’s bathroom and die.

“Broadway, huh?” Virgil asked.

Screw going to the bathroom. Roman coulddie on the spot.

“Ridiculous, huh?” Roman tried tolaugh at himself. If he laughed at himself first, it’d hurt less when everyoneelse did.

Virgil shrugged. “Not really.Someone’s got to do it, right?”

Oh.

No rejection.

Just a practical sense of hope.

Someone’s got to do it, and thatcould be him.

Roman blushed and gazed down at hisfeet. “Thank you . . .”

“No problem. Just uh, feel better Iguess.”

It was clear Virgil found this situationawkward but was trying to be considerate. For that, Roman was extremely grateful.

“Dee! Remus! What are you doing inhere? You know you’re banned!” Patton hollered, moving around the counter. Hehad his stern face on and a broom in hand. The two troublemakers would do wellto run while they still could.

They watched Patton chase Dee andRemus off.

“Does that happen a lot?” Virgilasked Roman.

“Only about every other day.”

Virgil didn’t say anything, soRoman went ahead and finished the transaction.

“Here’s your change,” Roman saidmeekly, handing the correct amount back to him.

“Thanks,” Virgil said, pocketingthe money. He picked up his gummy worms yet hesitated.

“Something else?” Roman wondered.

Virgil scratched the back of hishead. “To be honest, I wanted to get more stuff. But those guys were beingcreepy . . . But they’re gone now, so . . . would it be weird if I went to getmore stuff?”

Roman’s lips twitched up into asmile. “You didn’t judge me, so I’m not going to judge you.”

Virgil smirked. “Thanks.”

___________________________________________

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[canvas-the-florist]

No Time Like the Present (3)

Pairing(s): Romantic Roceit, QPR Intrulogical, Sleepmas

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Swearing, harassment, assassination, neglectful parents (?), homophobia mention, fire

Summary: Roman and Virgil have a bonding moment, Dolos discovers something that shouldn't be as surprising as it is, and history gets a vibe check with hindsight.

-

Roman had only been awake for three minutes and he already knew it was too early. The stress had been getting to him, and on the long way to the palace, he had only gotten three hours of sleep in the past week. Usually, he’d sleep in and cuddle into Dolos, but that wasn’t really an option. Even when he’d do expeditions alone, Roman at least knew that his love was safe at home. This wasn’t exactly a good week for him as he knew the sun wasn’t even up yet.

He sighed dramatically and stood up to stretch. Deciding to spend his time wisely so everyone could leave the moment they woke up, he fed the horses, checked around the area for any trouble, and started the hunt for food. Now, they brought food, and Roman knew this, but he had been so bored lately now that his days had an extra six hours. So this meant, he’d roughly remember everything Patton has said about scavenging and try to mimic everything Virgil has done regarding hunting. It didn’t go to plan as he wished but at least he hasn’t gotten severely injured yet, as he was still recovering from that one asshole.

Unfortunately, his brain couldn’t help but drift to Dolos. What if they were all too late? What if he gets hurt in a way he never recovers? Is this how Dolos feels whenever Roman travels out of town? He travels a l o t and he had almost always had to get patched up by the end of it. The guilt started growing as he realized that he and his boyfriend had switched roles. A little ‘I told you so’ at the end of this entire fiasco was definitely in order and Roman would accept it gracefully. He breathed in to keep himself from freaking out. He and Dolos would both get out of this alive, and it’ll be okay. But why couldn’t he bring himself to believe it?

“What the fuck are you doing up so fucking early?”

“Shut up, Virgil, you’re going to wake up Patton and you know he’s a light sleeper,” Roman said huffing slightly at the end of his sentence. Even though he had been up for hours, it was still way too early for any actual communication. “Besides, I know you like sleeping in so what woke you?”

Virgil gave a small grin and shrugged, extending his arms to invite a hug. “I can sense anxiety from 20 feet away so I thought I’d comfort you.”

“Sounds fake but okay.” Roman scoffed, accepting the hug with a small laugh. “Though it is mighty suspicious that I have woken up before you, and you have shown on multiple accounts to not sleep like,,, at all.”

Virgil shoved Roman out of the hug and punched his shoulder. A little unnecessary, but that was what basically defined their friendship at that point. Some melodramatic bickering and practically acting like they hate each other even if they would kill for one another. Though, if this were to be brought up, the two would immediately argue this, as if it was something the world wasn’t allowed to know. Logan and Patton found it ridiculous but Remus found it hilarious that they can act so stupid. Eventually, the others woke up to the two lightly bantering. The sun was up at that point and it was decided they should PROBABLY leave to finish their plan.

“Guuuysss, our horses will probably kick us if we don’t get going!” Patton called.

Roman shook his head with a tired but genuine laugh; hopefully, that laugh would be shared with Dolos soon. He ran back to the campsite, ready to leave as soon as he could.

-

After Dolos was told the plan he was half-convinced it would work.

I mean if you heard any plans about overthrowing your current government with 30 or so people, you’d be skeptical too, right? You wouldn’t just believe everything off the bat. Remy and Magenta shared a house and gave Dolos the guest bed. They weren’t together nor would they ever which was totally fine and Dolos didn’t even ask or hint at something like that when Magenta told him. He was assuming that one of them or both were in separate relationships or so.

It was late at night or early morning and he still hadn’t slept. He was under the blankets, all warm and cozy, but actually getting rest? Who did you take him for? He hardly ever slept when Roman was on his trips, but actually having an adventure for himself? That shit is scary. Dolos sighed and turned to his hide to cradle a pillow in his arms. He hugged it close to his chest, forcing his eyes closed as he imagined that he was safe and sound at home with Roman and his plants. He was so sleep deprived he could almost feel his loved one’s arms around his waist.

Unfortunately, it only lasted about twenty minutes before the sun came up, forcing Dolos to get up as the light hit his pillow and face immediately. He frowned and rubbed his eyes. This wasn’t exactly what he had in mind as a vacation at any rate. First of all, he would’ve preferred to have his boyfriend.

While he walked out to the commons of the household he noticed the lack of everyone else. Did they get curtains for every room in the house but his? Classic. He was tired and more than 75% convinced that being cursed to turn half-snake made him cold-blooded as well.

Dolos wrapped his arms around himself, giving himself a small hug and warmth as he curled up in the recliner. Roman would probably tease him on how he can fit so perfectly wrapped in a ball on a chair. This caused him to accidentally drop one of his legs which he didn’t have the reaction time to pull up again. His foot hit the floor and Dolos hissed in pain, attempting not to wake anyone up.

“Well, this is going perfectly.” He muttered to himself angrily, slowly falling off of the chair and slumping to the ground. “Just absolutely splendid. No setbacks at all.”

“Saying synonyms to what you want to believe is true probably isn’t going to work, babe.” Dolos turned around and saw Remy, coffee and all. It’s like he couldn’t be seen without caffeine. He let an exaggerated sigh after taking in the fake that another person was awake, especially that person being Remy. He rolled his eyes in response. “Gurl, calm down, this is my house after all. Strange how I come here sometimes.”

He didn’t bother to respond verbally and slid slowly off of the chair onto the ground so Dolos wouldn’t have to look at his face. It was a bit childish but he was too sleep-deprived to care about that much. He just wanted to hug his boyfriend and let him know that he was alright. Hopefully, he wasn’t doing anything stupid… Ugh, the sooner he helped this ragtag team overthrow the king, the earlier he could get a new home with Roman. If it took actually cooperating with people, maybe the snake would consider it. He let out another sigh and stood up.

“So, what can I do to help your side of the rebellion?”

“About fucking time you gave some enthusiasm.”

-

Thomas tucked his pocket watch back into his jacket for about the fifth time before the queen came in. He was incredibly nervous because he had to actually talk to his father and without Joan around, he didn’t want to mess up and put anyone in jeopardy. Unfortunately for him, his mother had the pleasure of telling him that his father was too busy. Because of course, why would anyone want time with their son? He wasn’t salty at all thanks for asking.

With a sigh, Thomas decided that he was definitely sneaking out again to see Remy and hear about the plans. The more his father ignored him, the more he wanted to rebel. So, once night fell, he put on his cloak and peasant clothing to walk into the streets. It was nightfall at this point and he blended into the point he felt like he let out a breath he seemed to have held for an entire day. Even with being a prince, he never really thinks of himself as one. Yes, he’s grateful for his privilege but he tried not to expect everyone to treat him with that privilege.

It was a hazy afternoon and he opened the door, closing it behind him swiftly. The door closed louder than he thought it would and he heard a loud thud along with a long string of swears. It wasn’t a voice he recognized so he decided to assume it was that Deceit fellow. Even so, Thomas placed his hand on the hilt of his dagger and slowly walked to the living room to see a person on the floor, clutching their feet.

“Are you okay?”

“Perfectly peachy, this definitely isn’t the second time this happened to me today.” Ah, this person can possibly be a threat then. Too clumsy to be an actual criminal. “So are you that prince dude the coffee addicted bitch won’t stop talking about?”

Thomas shook his head. “First of all, no swearing. Second of all, yes, I think?”

“Of course. At least I know that you’re sort of trustworthy.” The man said, standing up and avoiding wincing. Thomas came to the realization that this was supposedly the masterful witch that could destroy the king? Hmmm, okayyy. “Anyways, dipstick, I heard the plan. It might suck ass but I think with a couple of knuckleheads like you, y’all have a chance.”

Without even digesting the sentence, one thing came to the prince’s mind. “Y’all? I have no idea what you’re saying to me.”

Deceit laughed and punched his shoulder, causing Thomas to grab it and yelp in alarm. He was just met with another snicker, which turned grim. “Look, sorry for punching your fragile noodle arms, but you need a better plan with more or fewer people. At this stage of planning, Y’ALL won’t be able to overthrow the king. I know Remy doesn’t want me to change the outline and I respect that, but sometimes force is a dumb fucking thing to do. Since you’re dating him or whatever, and probably smarter let’s be real, you need to tell him! We aren’t going to be able to go at night with clanky weapons and shit like that! You need a more cohesive plan!”

“Well, shit,” Thomas breathed.

“Swearing,” Deceit tutted with a smirk.

Thomas punched him, similar to how he was hit just earlier. Deceit fell from his force, accidentally setting his hair on fire. Both of them stared at each other for a moment. Neither of them noticed Remy had showed up until he poured his coffee on top of the fire. The two standing helped him stand up, as he was too shocked to react. He looked at his hands, managing to make a flame grow above his finger. Deceit blew it out and made eye contact with Remy.

“I think I’m actually a fucking witch then.” He looked up, imagining how Roman would react to this. “Well, that makes a lot more sense than being a pyromaniac as a child… Huh…”

-

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK! Roman stared at his broken sword. He was supposed to be the knight in shining armor for his love, not breaking the one thing he knew how to use properly. Hell, he couldn’t hold a bow right. This was his favorite sword too. He dropped his head on the horse's neck and sighed. Roman thought himself as an idiot at this moment.

“Yep, that sword looks done for.” Patton declared, patting Roman’s back in sympathy.

“Thanks, Patton,” He replied with a sigh.

“We could always gain possession of another sword. One in better shape.” Logan stated, picking up the pieces and stuffing them into his backpack. They couldn’t leave any traces of themselves behind, even if a broken blade was incredibly useless at the moment. “Furthermore, we have reached our destination. Erytol is two hours and three minutes away if we keep at this current pace without distraction.”

Virgil stretched his back and it cracked loudly. “Since when have we kept from being distracted?” He asked with a chuckle. “Besides, we’re going to have to wait until dark before we should even bother walking in. Even Patton got banned from this city, right?”

Patton nodded while Remus laughed at him. “I think I mentioned something about gay people? Weird because I don’t even have romantic attraction.”

The group sighed at the sound of homophobia. You know the city is bad when even Patton managed to get banned from it. Continuing on, they eventually decided to stop their conversation and travel as promptly as they could. They hid in their average cloaks and prepared for their least favorite city. Erytol. This place was annoying because it had the castle, which meant that more guards and stuff were stationed there. Yet, it was filled with lots of plans to overthrow the king, though a lot of them were never attempted or fell flat. This time it would be better. Because the gays were angry and wanted to fight.

And they were going to beat the shit out of their opponents.

-

When Dolos was a child, around seven years old, he wasn’t allowed outside. He was known as the destructive kid that would be a bad influence on yours. Dolos had once set fire to an entire house and his parents quickly moved away from that town. He wasn’t the son his father or mother could be proud of so he was taken out of the public eye. At least, that’s what he thought for the longest time.

Dolos had grown to despise his parents for being forced to hide. Sure, their intentions seemed good! Their child wouldn’t stop setting fires and at the time he was twelve, this was pushed aside as a wild boy with pyromania. So, he was feared. He had no friends or anything. Eventually, Dolos chilled out and learned to handle things on his own. He bandaged his own wounds and fought his own battles. When he WAS let out, his parents made him wear a hood over his head so the neighbors wouldn’t recognize him. But one day, he met someone that could be considered a friend. Remus.

He was a boy just a year older than himself. An unruly personality. Perhaps one comparable to a wild pyromaniac?

So, a friend! A friend that was a twin that could also be a friend! But, Dolos wasn’t supposed to be outside or talk to others. But… he finally had friends… Doesn’t that mean something? His parents should at least respect that, right? They didn’t. He was told to remain quiet and go home immediately. As Dolos was walking away in shame, he turned and saw confusion and hurt in Remus’s eyes. He softened and fought against his want to cry. If he wasn’t allowed to be friends, he would just have to break the rules.

Roman and Remus were kind. They didn’t ask questions when Dolos knocked on their window at one AM. Perhaps they were too tired or suspected something about his family life. Dolos had run away at age fourteen. He lived with Remus and Roman at their orphanage. It was a refuge for him. He was able to talk to other children and have friends! But not all were ups. The food was horrible and most of the kids were even worse. Dolos would go into his shared bedroom with bruises he would treat himself after treating Remus. Roman was the only one who evaded bullying, by appearing so confident, no one dared to mess with him.

No matter how strong the three got, it was agreed to run away after a year. They ended up in Klanbou, the self-declared “most dangerous city in the continent!” by its citizens. That’s when the three worked together smuggling pixie dust through cities, Remus and Dolos also taking up part-time assassins. They all took up code names to remain secret and eventually met a young man named Virgil under extremely unlucky circumstances. Dolos never mentioned his pyromania to anyone and always kept some form of water on him at all times. Not to keep him hydrated, but to hope it would all stop. Eventually, at least. He never considered himself to be a witch, he didn’t realize the qualifications of magic at the time.

At least, until he had turned 22, and encountered a drunk wizard when he was in the middle of working out his plan for a random politician. The wizard was attempting to flirt with Dolos and as he told him kindly to “Fuck off” and to leave him alone… The wizard got upset. And slapped him.

Dolos stood up to yell at the wizard only to find the left of his face in excruciating pain. He had fallen to the floor, feeling cold hard scales sprouting off his face. The wizard gave him one last kick before leaving the bar. Roman ran after him, leaving Dolos alone. And as he was, he heard the earl of the town ban him publicly. In front of almost the whole contents of Klanbou, the city of criminals. People yelled and called him a witch.

As he was about to be chased out, his eyes darken. “I’ll give you witch,” he hissed, touching the building. The pyromaniac tendencies must’ve kicked in because Dolos created fire without knowing how, and walked out with Roman helping to carry Dolos’s weight. If Klanbou wouldn’t hold them, they might as well give them a legitimate reason not to. And burning the bar seemed appropriate at the time. Though, this meant the two would need somewhere new to live, and a cottage in the woods sounded pretty nice.

taglist:  @azure-shard @bookwyrminspiration @snakeboicouldbegayer

[polygamyff]

38. Part 6

I feel like people are looking at me like some poor man on the streets, like I know I have changed because of my illness but do I really look like some poor man from the streets. I got a new charger for my phone and the Apple store assistants even gave me looks, so now I am back in another Uber to go and eat. I need to eat because I am feeling like shit right now and I left my tablets back at the home, I am just annoyed with her. Seeing the Uber pull up, making my way to the car “Maurice?” the guy said “yeah that is me” dragging open the door, sitting inside the car “Maurice Davenport” looking up, and the guy is staring at me in the rear-view mirror “that is me” he then turned in his front seat “you are the Maurice Davenport? Wait a minute, it is you. Your face, yes I see it. What happened? You been thrown out?” this guy is getting a one star from me already “thrown out where exactly?” I questioned “I seen you opened a hotel in Dubai, what happened to you? Like what?” this guy is annoying “you don’t know me, I don’t know you. Just drive” shaking my head “ok, I was just asking. No need to get annoyed” he turned back around “I am not annoyed, just not nice when someone is staring at you is it. Not nice to stare” this guy looks about in his early twenties “I mean I am picking up Maurice Davenport, I am just shocked to see this black businessman in my car and then I see that, I mean I am just saying” rolling my eyes “because I look like this? You know what, it’s true what they say. It can’t buy you health, I rather be broke so then I can see my daughter grow up but we all can’t have what we want” I wish I told that other driver to stay behind with me now, he didn’t even speak but this guy won’t shut up “that is deep, I am sorry. I didn’t know you was ill, on Instagram I only see the good times, you have a good life so I was just saying” now he can shut the fuck up and let me just sit in the car in peace.

I have been to this food place once before so I thought I would come here again, I mean I am dressed in sweat pants and hoodie so we shall see, it’s not a cheap corner place “thanks for harassing me” getting out of the car “I said I was sorry!?” he spat, closing the door shut and walking to the restaurant. I am just going to eat and then go back of course, but I am first of all being blamed for knowing about her dad when what the fuck you want me to do, pulling open the door. I am actually finding it funny, the looks I am getting. I need to really shave my beard and do my hair; my refusal is making me look like this and I continue to get these stares and judgemental looks. The waiter came over to me, he is looking at me like I walked into the wrong place “how can I help you?” how can he help me, he is supposed to ask me how many people “I want a table in the private room, for one” his eyes widened “erm, we erm take payment beforehand” I laughed “you don’t, I have been here before. Where is your owner, Andrew. Go on and get him” I will knock this waiter out, he is annoying me “sir, I will have to ask you to go” I don’t know if to laugh or cry about this, digging into my pocket “after this, you go and get me Andrew” getting my wallet out, opening my wallet and grabbing my black card, throwing at him “pick it up and get him” the waiter looked down “pick it up” they treat people like shit, this is wrong . He picked it up “you will never be able to get one of those, so go and get your owner” he took my card and went.

I know I look a mess, I am skinny as fuck but I am trying to get better here I mean I am walking around with a bruised fucking hand and it’s not good but still, I am being treated like dirt here. Here is the owner and the waiter, Andrew is running down the rows of tables “Maurice, oh my god. I am so sorry, this is Maurice Davenport, nice for you to come back” he got his hand out to me, shaking his hand “I heard, I am happy you are ok and with us still my friend” nodding my head “it’s ok, I think your worker assumed” his bitch ass “I am sorry, here you go. Your card, this is a billionaire. It’s on me, what you want is on me. You don’t charge him for anything, I will take you to the private room” nodding my head “next time don’t judge a book” walking by the waiter “do you want the usual? Would you like the finest wine?” Andrews asked, I chuckled “no, I am fine. I just want water please, I am in California so I thought I would come here to eat, I didn’t think I would be harassed like this” going through to the back room “I am sorry, he wasn’t aware. But I heard what happened to you, it’s awful but you’re here with us. Please sit down” he gestured “yeah, I have had a pretty bad time. Not eating and all that but I am trying my best to get back to normal, Andrew I need to charge my phone, can you do that for me?” placing the Apple bag on the table “yes I can, anything you eat is on me” nodding my head, he is really making it up to me.

Andrew sat with me to eat, it was nice of him “you know what, when he came into the office. He said this guy, he looks a real mess threw this at me and it says Maurice Davenport. I looked at the card and I goes oh my god, it’s him. Obviously, I heard what happened and how you were in hospital again. Even though I would come to your parties over here you barely come to my place to eat, so I rushed down. He wasn’t aware, I am sorry on his behalf” nodding my head “it’s fine, it’s a shame people get treated that way though. It’s not nice. I know I need too shave, but I think the beard gives me more face” I laughed “I just stopped eating because of everything, I was not good Andrew. I am not a big guy anyways; you know that, so the weight just fell off so quick and I become ever so skinny, but I am getting there. But the food was nice, I mean it was free for me” I laughed “anything for you, you are great guy and I am happy you came” getting my hand out to him “likewise, I will be back soon my friend. Thank you for charging my phone too” getting up from the chair “we need another party one day” shaking my head “the only party I will be doing now Andrew is my daughter’ party, that has really ended now. See what happens, keep in contact” least I have eaten now, I am not feeling as grumpy as I was before. Making my way out of the place, according to my phone my Uber should be here, I hope to god not another annoying driver because I can’t even deal. Pushing open the door stepping out of the place “woah” near hitting into someone “Maurice Davenport!” seeing the camera in his hand “uh god” walking around him, who the hell told these “Maurice, how are you feeling right now?” dragging open the car door “just drive” getting into the car, keeping my head low as I don’t want my face being shown.

I feel so numb inside, when I try and think back to the memories of me and my dad, he’s not even my dad now it’s like my brain has deleted them. I am hurt and confused but it finalises why he has been the way he is, why he went out of his way to treat me like some hoe, he really did. My daughter is trying to play with me, wants me to hug her and love her but I just can’t bring myself to do it even though I want her close to me “Robyn, come on now. Let me take her, she is getting upset” Leon got up from the seat, looking up at Leon “I am sorry friend, you know I haven’t got no parents, so be it. I am happier without” looking away from him “go to Leon” I said, Leon leaned in and took her from me “Robbie” my mom came back, she sat down across me “Leon can you find out where Maurice is? He is just walking around like he is not ill, he is walking around alone, just find out” shaking my head sighing out “he doesn’t know California, mom I just want to understand why did you not just tell me this before? I deserved to know earlier, why?” I need to know “because Robbie, you are a mother now. If Maurice turned to you and said to you he would take your daughter in as his own, we can just be a happy family. He held your hand when you gave birth, watch your daughter be born knowing full well she wasn’t his, wouldn’t your heart fall? Tell me this?” putting my head down “Thomas, watched you be born, held you, and held me. He promised a lot and then he let me down, at this very part. I didn’t think I would have needed to ever tell you because he was your dad, and he loved you. It’s scary how a man can just wake up and suddenly not want you, to look at you like shit” I understand where my mom is coming from, if Maurice did that then my heart would fall and would want my daughter to have him as a father, now I have my own daughter I do understand it “where are you? Robyn is asking” hearing Leon say, he’s been out for hours and he shouldn’t be but I am happy he has picked up “Maurice said do you want food?” Leon asked “tell him to come back” I said, I just want him in this home, I am much calmer now.

I am feeling much calmer, but it hurts me, just to know that it’s a lie. All of the pictures, the memories of us, it’s all lies “I feel like it makes it worse that he’s treated me with love and now with hate, if he treated me this way mom, I can only imagine how he was with you. I never knew you lost your womb, because of me?” my mom sighed out “I did, it was a terrible time, but I have you Robyn. This is what makes me happy, I have a beautiful grandchild, this makes me whole, but I didn’t need Thomas to remind me of how much I wasn’t a woman, he just didn’t like you not wanting him. It drove him crazy, then you fell pregnant. He adored Reign but he said, that is nothing to do with me, but I tried to make him feel better, but I don’t want you to think everything was fine because it wasn’t, the marriage had its downs. We argued behind closed doors, I think when you hit puberty, he was playing up then. I just wanted the best for you, you did get that Robbie” I nodded my head “I never knew any different, that was because I was loved by you both” taking in a deep breath “I just can’t believe it, I mean I can now. The way he has been with me but it’s just a weird feeling to feel. I am mourning the fact I won’t be able to have my dad to walk me down the aisle but I am feeling the hurt now, I feel like you suffered so much. You suffered because of me when mom if you bought me up without a dad it wouldn’t have changed with the love you gave me. You mean so much to me mom, I was a daddy’s girl but you, every time I came home, I always asked for you. You have made me who I am, you are such a good woman mom. He didn’t deserve you” my voice broke “I am so sad for you” wiping my tears that fell “I love you with my whole heart Robyn, I am so proud of you. And I want you to move to New York knowing none of this was your fault”  my mom’ voice broke “I love you so much Robbie” my mom reached her arms out and opened her hands, reaching over and holding her hands “I love you so much mom” I said back “look at us crying” I said “I am crying because I raised a beautiful girl with a humble heart, I am blessed” this woman is my whole heart, she means everything to me.

My mom made something for us to eat, something quick. I am not really into food right now; I just don’t feel like eating. I am still just sick to my stomach with all of this information “Leon thank you, for looking after Reign. You didn’t have too” I am just poking my pasta with my fork; I don’t even want to eat at all “so this man, I guess my dad. I don’t know, what is his name?” I asked “his name is Rell, we met through friends. Well I went to a house party” nodding my head slowly “your mom was a gangbanger, I seen you. You little hussy” my mom gasped “Leon! You stop that” I chuckled “so we met at a house party, erm yeah. He was so, I would say shy, but he would never say shy. I mean he was for the streets; he is the streets. Why would he be shy, but he was, so yeah. We met there. So, when you fell pregnant so quick, I laughed. I was calm about it because I was like my daughter is just me, but Thomas even more so blew a fit over it. The real Rell was a lovely humble man, he was funny. He was a gentleman to me; I was drunk, and he took me home. My home girls were just like don’t be going with him” Leon cackled “hussy!” Leon is making me laugh “I am not even lying, but I feel good to be free to say what I want, look at us laughing. I would have to apologise, fuck that man” Leon said, “you’re right, you usually apologise for saying things” I do agree with that “so how did you contact each other again?” I questioned “well the next morning, I was like I need to change over my bag because I took out my party bag, so I opened it and saw his number. I text him, there was that. I do have pictures of him” putting my hand up “I think I have heard enough; I am not ready for that” I don’t think I want to see him right now.

Closing the dishwasher door “this is crazy, where is he? Leon, call him again. It’s late!” I barked “wow, calm down. I will ring him again” I am not happy; I don’t want him walking around Cali like he knows this place. I don’t want it, he needs to come back home right now “oh he’s back, I heard the door close” Leon said “what? Where did you find that from” making my way out of the kitchen “what!?” I spat “I got her back” my eyes bulged out watching Maurice unleash Khaleesi “oh my god!” Khaleesi started jumping and barking before he let her go and she ran at me “oh my god, girl! You back? Oh my god, I missed you” catching Khaleesi grown self, she is so grown. I giggled as she couldn’t control herself, she is out here trying to lick me “oh my god! I missed you too, my baby. Oh wow!” putting her down on the floor, her tail is wagging so fast, she doesn’t know what to do with herself “where the hell have you been!?” I asked, crouching down to Khaleesi. She also sat, rubbing just under her chin “well I went back to the old house, looked at it. They have stripped all of it out, I was a little sad to see and then I called Malik, I said to him where is my dog. You kidnapped her, he said I didn’t and told me where he took her, she was in a shelter. And she was getting ready to be sold, I was like nah that is my dog, she knew me straight away, so I bought her back. I just went to eat something; I have been judged as a homeless man today so that is great but yeah. I did that. Now we got Khaleesi back” I am so happy she is back “I love you girl” hugging her “you got so big, but you still beautiful as ever” she looks so happy to be back “you going to move with me to New York, yes you are” Maurice cleared his throat “the home I got us, I probably think it’s not good for a dog. It’s seven floors and I just feel like she will get lost, I thought she could stay here with your mom. Keep her company, you know” pulling a face at Maurice “but I rather she be with us, she will be fine” I don’t want to abandon her again.

Getting up from my position “I am sorry about earlier; I was upset as you understand. I didn’t want you to go out” Maurice made his way over to me slowly “well I got harassed today, then the paparazzi took pictures of me. Because my skin is so flaky on my face, this medication is not working for me. I am burnt, look” looking at his face “no sun cream? You’re pasty as it is, Maurice the medication will get better, you just need to be more active in using creams I bought you” reaching up touching his face “well I had a shit time out there, do I look like a guy with no money?” I laughed “it’s just the unkept hair, you’re fine. I missed you” I really did miss him “I am sorry I went out; I just didn’t like to be spoken too like that. Are you ok? You’re eyes still look ever so sore though” wrapping my arms around his torso “it will take time, it’s just the more I hear about Thomas, the more I feel anger. He hurt my mom” Maurice rubbed my back “he is not a nice guy Robyn, I didn’t have my tablets though, they were not on me” moving back from the hug “Maurice, honestly. What on earth are you playing at? Let me get them” seriously, that man really knows how to grind my gears “you are back Maurice” my mom said, Khaleesi is following me everywhere now which is cute.

Maurice sat down next to me “I really missed you, like really missed you” wrapping my arms around his “you don’t understand how much I wish I never left to go out, it was terrible. I got treated like shit, is this what broke feels like. Leon, you can help me” looking over at Leon, he put a finger up at him “says the guy that gets sun burnt in California, pussy” I laughed resting my head on Maurice’ shoulder “I am a sensitive guy, the medication got me. Did Robyn see the pictures at all?” moving my head back “you seen it?” I asked him “yeah, you haven’t yet?” shaking my head “I am still feeling a lot of emotions about this, I still have lots of questions to ask yet” which I do, I just feel confused about a lot of it “I think you should see it, I am just saying but you will feel a type of way about it” furrowing my eyebrows thinking “I got you, Terry go and get them. If we are doing it, we are doing it today Robyn. We don’t got the time, we need to wedding shop quick. We need to make you a Davenport quick, he looks like you. You got his nose” I feel really sick right now “but like, it makes me sad. I don’t know, he’s not here. I feel like I am still losing in this” Maurice held my hand “you need to see the man that is your father so you can delete that pussy nigga from memory” my mom held the pictures out to Maurice facedown “are those the boo’d up pictures again?” Leon said “you both seen it?” I am the only one in this room “look at me” Maurice said, looking at Maurice in the eyes “you are a strong woman, if I didn’t think you could take it then I wouldn’t say this. I want you to see this, I want you to see the man that is your father. And it is sad because I wish he was here to see how beautifully happy his daughter is, I pray he in heaven accepting of me because honestly. A father’s love is wholesome, if this was Reign in this situation with a man that loved her, and she decided to be a surgeon just like you. I would be most accepting; I mean I wouldn’t be best please with the being married part but would I ever say my daughter is a whore? No, I would never. I just want you to know that this man, from what Terry told me. He was a good man, wrong place at the wrong time. Like my god, you a surgeon bae. This is wild to me, he would be so proud” Maurice is making me so emotional “you’re making me cry” my voice turned all high pitched “I just feel like he is speaking to me and I don’t even know him” I chuckled “because I want to make you whole, I feel like I am a father of a daughter and I can only imagine how he would feel” I love Maurice so much “Maurice got the whole room crying” Leon said “I am ready to look” I mumbled, Maurice let my hand go.

Maurice moved away from me a little, he turned the pictures away from me “so this is your mom and dad on Valentines day, your mom told me” he turned the picture towards me, I froze staring at this man next to my mom. Taking the picture from him, bringing the picture closer “he has my nose, you was right” I pointed out “this is so weird to me, I don’t know. He just-“ I paused “he’s just you” Leon finished for me “you got mom’ eyes but you got him in you Robyn” Leon said, I laughed not knowing what to feel, it’s a lot. Looking up from the picture “I wish I knew him” I said as a tear fell “you know what Robbie, you have. He’s just like Maurice, this is why I have always felt comfortable to speak to Maurice. His whole persona is like Rell’ and behind those closed doors the way he was with me, he was just like Maurice. And thank you Maurice, that speech really hit my heart. I want you to understand that, I love you so much and you were most wanted in my life, you know what. I lost him, but I have half him with me here and I made mistakes, I did, and it upsets me because I wish I did tell his family but I didn’t want the mess of it. I will always be here to answer your questions, I know you will have more to come” nodding my head, I will have more questions to come because, it’s a lot to take in.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: The Elephant in the Room ch.3 (baon)

Summary: Jeff has started working at the Embassy. He’s got a new job, a new car, and a new place to live. Now if only the rest of his life could fall into order, that’d be great. Any time now…any time at all…

Tags: Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Prejudice Against Monsters, Angst,  Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Past Suicidal Thoughts,  Mental Health Issues, Friendship

Notes: Red, you little cryptid, why can’t you ever let anything be easy? Then again, if Jeff was hoping for things to be straightforward, he picked the wrong brother. 

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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It was worth the long sit-down in the kid’s office, twiddling his thumbs in the dark as Red waited for the door to open. Worth it for that one moment to see Andy have to bite back a scream when he saw Red at his desk. Give the kid credit though, he didn’t piss himself, which had been known to happen. That was always funny as shit, but kinda annoying, because then Red had to wait around for whoever to change their pants. He was busy, for fuck’s sake, and there were plenty of other places he needed to lurk. Tell the truth, he’d been a little surprised to hear the kid was looking for him. Surprised and frankly intrigued. Andy’d only been working at the Embassy for a week, how much trouble could he have stumbled across already? And it was definitely trouble, no two shakes about it. No one came looking for Red because they wanted to share a kit kat, such a fucking pity. Jeff was still standing in the doorway, doorknob in hand, staring at Red like maybe he was expecting a pit to hell to open up beneath him and swallow him back down. Could happen someday, Red supposed, but today was not that day and he was gettin’ bored of waiting. “you can come in,” Red said magnanimously, gesturing him inside. “whatever diseases i got don’t transfer.” His grin widened as Jeff sat in the visitor’s chair rather than drop-kicking him out of the desk like his bro would’ve. Nervously little twerp, wasn’t he. But Red wasn’t much fooled by that; he’d seen Andy boy step up for the people he cared about, more than once. Kid had a soft soul, for sure, but a good one. Like Papyrus. Like Blue. This world could use a coupla those and it was up to souls like Red’s to keep the world from fucking them over. One more dinky scar on his was nothin’, but if Red had his way, Jeff’s was never gonna need so much as a band-aid.

Fucking liabilities. “Hi, um, it’s just,” Jeff stammered a bit and Red only looked at him, let him wriggle a little longer on the hook. He kept his approval under wraps when Jeff took a few breaths, calming himself, and said, “Earlier today, Stretch and I were downtown.” “uh huh,” Red slouched back in the chair, let his eye lights roll back. Looked like he was reading a teleprompter off the ceiling, but the truth was, Red kept all his info in the safest place Above or Below ground, all filed away neat and tidy in his own skull. “classic books, owned by thomas meyer, immigrated in 1965 with his folks. his pop owned the bookstore and thomas took it over a while back. does okay, the rare book gig helps keep him afloat. did even better when monsters popped up, they love books and ain’t so tied to amazon.” “What?” Jeff blinked at him in a mixture of surprise and awe, “I didn’t know any of that.” He looked a little too damn impressed by a little googling and a lot of patience, and fuck if this kid didn’t pick some bad role models. Shit on a shingle, if Red had a windowless van, Jeff would probably be climbing on in it hoping for some free damn ice cream, no self-preservation at all. His bro sure knew how to pick a liability, this kid was something else. “i know plenty,” Red tapped his gold tooth with one sharp-tipped finger. “so what about it? gimmie some news i can’t get from the paper.” “Well, it’s just that Thomas hired someone to replace me and he’s very…uncomfortable around Monsters.” Jeff was leaning forward, bracing his hands on the desk and probably didn’t even realize it. He looked like the lead detective in an eighties movie as he asked, “Why would someone who doesn’t like Monsters want to work somewhere that is friendly to them? Thomas even has one of those ‘Monsters Welcome’ stickers on his front door.” Wellie well well, now this was interesting. Course, Red already knew what the kid was talking about. Steven Baker, recent graduate of Ebott University. Garden-variety xenophobe, didn’t have any special plans scuttled away on his laptop or some raggedy notebook plastered with MAG stickers. He just needed a job and chose poorly, was all. Some people didn't adjust to Monsters too well and that was fine; Red pretty much didn't want those fuckers around anyway and so long as they stuck to the other side of town, wasn’t much his concern. But the ‘book haus’ reject, eh, that was all dull shit; Red had a lockdown on that info three days ago before that little fucker ever stepped behind the register. What was interestin’ him now was Andy. Here the kid was, bubbling with suspicions like a junior detective, and who did he Scooby Doo to? Not Edge, not Stretch, not even his boytoy. No, he brought that info right to Red, didn’t he, like a cat with a dead bird, eager to show off his prize. Yeah, Red was liking this. Aloud, Red said, “i know all about steve, did a background check when tommy boy hired him. we monitor all the businesses that have the official stickers.” “Oh,” Jeff slumped back into his chair and Red couldn’t help but be amused. Kid looked like he’d unmasked the bad guy and found that it was Old Man Jenkins again. He didn’t stay down though, sat up straight again and asked, “You monitor all the businesses? Why?” Curiosity, good, and even if Andy ain’t exactly ready to share friendship bracelets with Red, he wasn’t letting his nervousness keep him from asking. Red grudgingly pulled his estimation of the kid up another notch. “two reasons.” Red held up two bony fingers then folded one down. “one, to make sure they aren’t getting harassed and feel they need to take it down. monster-friendly business won’t stay that way if they’re afraid to go to their cars at night.” He folded down the second finger. “and two, to make sure they mean it. ‘bout the last thing i ever want to happen is some monster and their kiddies heading into a place expecting a warm welcome and instead leaving in a paper bag.” Jeff nodded slowly, cringing a little at the Red’s description. “Makes sense. I should’ve known you were already on it, guess I was being paranoid.” “no such thing,” Red countered. And wasn’t that a swig of sugar-syrup, the kid had faith in him. "you were right, it is off. that’s good instincts, kid. we’ll be keeping tabs on stevie, don’t you worry, make sure he stays on the right side of the line. you, now, you come tell me anytime you see something or someone who seems off, yeah? anytime. thinking you’re overreacting is how people get hurt, and some people in our company can’t take much of a hit, you get me?” “Yeah, I do,” Jeff said determinedly. Andy had some spine to him in there beneath all the meat. That was the fella who’d decked a stranger on the bus for harassing a Monster, yep. The door opening made him tense, but it was only Antwan, peering in through the crack. He pushed the door open further and stepped inside, “Hey, security said you were here.” Watching the kid light up when he caught sight of Antwan was gag-worthy, but Red managed to choke it down. Being around his bro, the honey bun, and their fucking PDA had helped him build up a tolerance. “Hi, yeah,” Jeff said, “Red and I were talking.” “yep," Red agreed. He wagged his foot lazily where it was propped on the desk. "we’re about done now. thanks for stopping by, sweetheart. see you around.” “Okay,” Jeff said easily, like this wasn’t his office, heh. Kid was a little too easy-going, but that could be fixed with a judicious amount of assholery. Or maybe he was still too distracted by his boytoy, to care because he was all hopeful eyes and sweet-talk when he asked Antwan, “See you tonight?” “Yeah, I’ll meet you at Blue’s,” Antwan said, distractedly. He was pretty busy trying to glare a hole into Red, not an uncommon reaction but not one he was used to from Antwan. His drinking buddy about had steam coming out of his ears and didn’t notice that Jeff’s smile faltered, fading out as he mumbled an agreement and left. Curiouser and curiouser, as some brat once said. “What the fuck are you up to?” Antwan asked bluntly, the second the door swung shut. “dunno what you mean,” Red went through his mental list of annoying vocal tones and went with breezy on this one, but truth was, he really didn’t. And he didn’t like that, not one fucking bit, he liked a clear idear of what was going on around him at all times, and if Antwan had a bug up his ass, Red wanted to know why it crawled up there and what kinda nest it was making. From Antwan’s glare, that bug was pretty far up there. “I mean, why are you calling my boyfriend pet names?” To have that piece of puzzle snap in so easily, Red almost busted out laughing. That was what had Antwan’s panties in a wad? “eh, i do that with everyone,” Red said lazily. He licked his teeth deliberately, running his tongue over each and every point as he enjoyed the rising fury in Antwan’s eyes. “aww, honey, what makes you think i’m interested in your personal meat bag?” “The knowledge that you fucked your way through Europe the last time you went traveling with the diplomats?” Antwan snapped. “I heard plenty about that!" “maybe i had some fun,” Red allowed, and gave him a wolfish grin. Unless Antwan was chatting it up with Sans, he hadn’t even heard the half of it. “dunno, i don’t see your name on andy boy. not a ring or maybe a pretty little collar. gotta say, that might be a good look for him—“ “Stop,” Antwan said, through gritted teeth. Pretty impressive the way wrenched himself back, all that hot anger dropping down the thermometer to icy calm. “Your brother is my best friend, he wouldn’t like it if we killed each other.” Red snorted. This was fun and all, but a slap upside the head with a little realism was probably due. “cute that you think there is any ‘other’ about it. dunno, doesn’t sound like you trust your boy.” “What?” Antwan looked pretty taken aback by that, which was a fine, fine thing. Cause if there was a chance this entertaining lil’ tantrum was about Antwan thinking Jeff was trying to get a late afternoon bone-on, he and Antwan were about to talk real close up, make no mistake about that. Jeff wasn't a cheat, Red had a little file tucked away in the back of his head with plenty of data proving that.

Antwan didn't seem to notice, he only snapped out, "This isn’t about him, it’s about you. I know you too damn well. Leave him alone.” Well, this a slice of something different. He’d never much had anyone worried he was gonna seduce their honey away. Refreshing change, that. Sans was gonna laugh his ass off. “not much of a threat there.” Antwan’s smile was coldly humorless, whew, bet that went over real well in court, probably had a more’n few defendants pissing themselves. “No threats. I know better than to give you advance warning.” “better," Red let his grin widen, licked his teeth again deliberately, "could always make it a threesome.” Now that was a hell of a look. That was fifty shades of no, such a shame. Antwan only sputtered out, “I…what? No!” "pity," Red sighed. He kicked off of the desk and stood, groaning as he stretched with bone-popping force. "cool your jets, i ain’t trying anything with your boy, he had a security issue was all. ask him, he’ll tell ya. now that we've established that i’m not trying to poach, hit bricks.” Antwan only stared at him, visibly fuming, oh, yeah, he was plenty pissed, looked like he was trying to chew off his damn tongue. But Red was done playing nicey-nice for the day and it looked like Antwan was keeping cosplay as the fool aside for Andy. He turned on his heel, ready to storm back out the way he came and it was probably gonna lose him his drinking buddy, at least for a while, but Red couldn't help adding, sing-song sweet, "not trying yet, anyway." The door slamming told Red everything he needed to know about that. Red shook his head, started to pull out a cigar. He'd wait to light it when he got outside, no reason to stink up the kid's office, especially without his bro here to bitch and moan about it. Oh yeah, those two were meant to be. Just like the boss and Stretch, it was almost like a fucking aura around 'em, and Red didn't do Judgements anymore, but he'd never given up Seeing. He was never one to let a gift go to waste and he'd known fucking ages before his bro that he was meant to be with the honey bun. And just like those idiots, these two might need a little nudge in the right direction. That was fine. Red was pretty good when push came to shove.

~~*~~

tbc

[fandorkofeverything]

Red Dead Redemption 2: Doubts And Scars Chapter Fifteen: The Battle Of Shady Belle

First time not being Katherine’s P.O.V! Whooooo

 

So, it’s been like a month since I updated….. Whoops. Sorry about that, guys!

 

//Kieran’s P.O.V//

 

“She’ll be okay, Kieran. We’re going to find her. And we’re going to bring her home to you.” Lenny attempted to comfort me, as I had tears in my eyes, laying my head down. We were sitting at the table alone at the side of camp, near the river. At this time, no one harassed me. No one made fun of me. And no one physically abused me….. But I couldn’t enjoy it. Not with Raine missing.

 

“B-B-But what if she’s not….. She’s my little sister, Lenny….. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” The thought of Raine never coming back to me broke my heart. I lost my parents, my friends, my family, everything….. I couldn’t cope if I lost her too.

 

“I know….. I’ve seen the way you are with her. She adores you.”

 

“She doesn’t remember our parents….. But I do. They loved her. And they loved me. If they never got that goddamn disease, she’d be here right now…”

 

“If they never gotten that goddamn disease, I wouldn’t have met you.”

 

I raised my eyes to look at him in that sense. It wasn’t like anyone to actually be grateful for meeting me. Besides Katherine, nobody really gave a shit about me, other than Raine….. God, Raine….

 

“I feel like the worst brother in the world…”

 

“Well, don’t.” Lenny put his hand on mine. “It’s not your fault. Nobody could have predicted this. And let me tell you, when we were fighting at Braithwaite Manor; that was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.” I looked at him in disbelief. Nobody has ever called me brave before, let alone a member of the Van Der Linde Gang. “Let people say what they want to say about you. it’s people like me and Katherine that really count. Believe me, I know what it’s like to be mistreated.” I looked him in the eye, clearly confused.

 

“What’d you mean?” I asked the younger man and he sighed.

 

“Both my mother and father were slaves. My mother died of sickness. And my father was beaten to death by a drunken man. I killed the man when I was fifteen years old. Ever since then, I had been running on my own, until I met Dutch. Some days, I can’t even go into town without being ridiculed, even people not knowing I was an outlaw.” I nodded in understanding. It’s unfair. He shouldn’t have to be treated like that just for the color of his skin.

 

“Where I’m from….. Nobody is treated like that. We’re all treated equally. Men, women, blacks, whites, mixed of both. It doesn’t matter. All of us are treated as human beings. It doesn’t matter where you come from, it matters how you treat the rest of the town.” I confessed and Lenny gave a small smile.

 

“That sounds nice.”

 

“Dutch! We have a problem!” Karen’s voice caught our attention, we turned back to see Karen and Sadie, guns in-hand and aimed at two people. Arthur said one was called Milton, and he didn’t remember the other one’s name.

 

“Not a problem. Visitors. Good day fine people.” Milton walked into camp like he owned the place; Lenny and I exchanged a worried glance, and quickly made our way to the middle of camp, where Dutch, Hosea, Katherine and Arthur were discussing how to handle Raine’s kidnapping….. “Mr. Van Der Linde. Mr. Matthews, I presume. And that would make you…..” Katherine crossed her arms, clearly annoyed with the man.

 

“Jane Shelley.” Katherine told him, but the man scoffed, knowing it wasn’t her real name.

 

“Very well, Ms. Shelley. Ah, Mr. Morgan. How wonderful to see you again.” Milton faked a smile, looking to the girl and her father.

 

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Agent Moron?”

 

There was a lot of talk involved. Basically, Milton said if Dutch turned himself in, he’d let us all go free and live like human beings. All of us scoffed or rolled our eyes at that. No way. Not without Raine. And I know Arthur, Hosea and Katherine wouldn’t leave Dutch in the hands of those Pinkerton agents, despite their little spats.

 

When Dutch acted as if he was going to turn himself in, all of us acted, guns in hands. I may not be a gang member in the eyes of most, but I sure as hell am going to act like one. Like Lenny said; “Let people say what they want to say about you. it’s people like me and Katherine that really count.” And he’s right. I just need to prove my worth.

 

“I think your new friend should leave now, Dutch.” Ms. Grimshaw told him, and Dutch smiled.

 

“Gladly. Bill. John. Escort our guests out, will you?”

 

“Certainly, Dutch.” John told him and basically pushed them out. “Let’s go! Move it!”

 

“Dad. They know where we’re located. We have no choice but to move camps.” Katherine put in and Arthur agreed.

 

“She’s right, Dutch. If we don’t move now, we’ll be dead by sunset.” Hosea put in and everyone agreed.

 

“Arthur and I found a place near Saint Denis awhile back. Big house, with walls and a roof. Big enough for everyone.” Lenny put in and Dutch nodded.

 

“Good. Arthur, you and….” Dutch looked around, trying to decide who to send with Arthur, and his eyes landed on me. he smiled and nodded reassuringly. “You and Kieran will check this place out. The rest of you get packing!”

 

“You’re really gonna trust the O’Driscoll boy?!” I heard Bill yell, and someone smack him.

 

“His names’ Kieran, you idiot!” Sean exclaimed and I gave a small smile. At least a few people have my back.

 

I grabbed Branwen, making sure Spirit was tied so he wouldn’t run off. He’s been antsy ever since Raine got kidnapped.

 

“You okay, boah?” Arthur asked as we rode, and I exhaled sharply.

 

“Do I look okay? My baby sister was kidnapped, my only family I have left, and the first question you ask me since then is ‘are you okay?’” I asked, clearly annoyed.

 

“Right. You’ve made your point. Look, nobody takes a child to harm her. They took her to scare us.” Arthur tried to reassure me.

 

“Nonsense! She may be a child, but she is also a teenager! She knows very little of how cruel the world is out there because I protect her from it! Do you know what the O’Driscoll’s tried to do to her?!” I exclaimed, and Arthur went silent for a moment. “They tried to rape her! On multiple occasions! And I took the hit for her, because I’m the one who’s supposed to protect her! She pleaded with you to let me go because she knew what they did to me and was scared you were going to do the same!”

 

“I’m sorry, kid…. I never knew.”


“Yeah. Well, nobody was supposed to know.”

 

We arrived at the house, leaving Branwen and Splash a ways back.

 

“O’Driscolls…..” Arthur mumbled, looking at my past “gangmates” in anger. “What’d you say? We blow up that dynamite, or one of us go in there, faking an injury or something, then we attack?”

 

“They’ll recognize me right away….. So, if we do that, it’d have to be you.”

 

“Fair enough. So? What’s it gonna be?”

 

I hummed a bit a looked at the house. There were twenty, thirty O’Driscolls. If Arthur were to walk in on that and they started shooting right away, he’d be a goner.

 

“Shoot the dynamite; I think we’ll have better luck.” I told him and he took out his rifle, letting out a breath, and shot it, instantly killing ten of them.

 

“We’re gonna kill all of you!” Arthur yelled, pulling a trick with his gun, killing three. I shot two off to the side, and one in a headshot on the balcony.


We had pretty much cleared out everyone outside and Arthur went inside to see if there was anyone in there. I kept my hand on my gun, just in case. I then felt my gun smacked from my hand, and me on the ground, and someone on top of me.

 

“WHO ARE YOU?!” The voice screamed and I looked up. The familiarity of the Scottish accent, brown burly hair and amber eyes widened my senses.

 

“Malcolm?” I asked in disbelief. Malcolm gasped in shock.

 

“Kieran?” He asked letting me up immediately, giving me my gun back. “What are you doing here?”

 

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here? I thought you were gonna stay in Montana.” I asked.

 

“Yeah, well, life had other ideas….” Malcolm mumbled, putting away his gun and I did the same. “Anna and Wilde got really worried. Sent me to find you. Found this.” Malcolm took of his jacket, which was actually my old jacket. “I thought you were dead. Fell in with the O’Driscolls a few months ago. Talked of the traitor who joined The Van Der Linde gang….. Never in a  million years would I think it to be you.”

 

“I’m not a traitor….. You really have no idea what they’re capable of, Mac.” I told him and he furred his eyebrows.

 

“Where’s Sophia?” He asked and I sighed, wrapping my arms around myself.

 

“Raine….. She….. She got taken by Angelo Bronte.” I confessed and he gasped.

 

“What?! She’s what now? Fourteen? She’s still a child!” Malcolm expressed and I sighed.

 

“I know….”

 

“Kieran!” Arthur came out, gun in hand, pointing it at Malcolm.

 

“No, no, no! Arthur, it’s okay!” I stood in front of Malcolm, holding my hand out. “He’s a friend.”

 

“Friend?” He asked, gun still pointed.

 

“We knew each other from my hometown, we grew up together with our other two best friends, Wilde and Anna.” I told him and he looked between us but put the gun down.

 

“Fine. But any funny business….” Arthur made a cutting motion with his hands around his neck.

 

“Tell you what….” Malcolm looked around, seeing the dead O’Driscolls. “I like you already Arthur. And you have a lot of explain to do after you disappeared,” Malcolm pushed me in a teasing matter. “and I want to help you find Sophia. So, I’m gonna stick with you guys.”

 

“Really? You want to stay?” I asked and he nodded.


“Why not? I can also write to Montana and let Anna and Thomas know that you’re alive.”

 

“His names’ Wilde.” I corrected and he scoffed.

 

“Whatever.”

 

“Should I understand you two?” Arthur asked and I shook my head ‘no’

 

“Absolutely not.” We said in usion.

 

“Fine. You two clear out the bodies; I’ll go get the gang.” Arthur left on Splash and Malcolm eyed me.

 

“Gang?”

 

“Malcolm, do I have a story to tell you.”

 

“Indeed, you do. But we didn’t leave off on the best last words…. Did we?” He asked and I sighed.

 

“I know… And I’m sorry.” Malcolm walked up to me and wrapped me in his arms. Just like he used to before and ran his fingers through my hair. Just like he always used to do.

 

“Do they judge people for love?” He whispered to me and I shook my head.


“I don’t know.” I confessed, him then resting his forehead on mine. “Do you still care for me…. Even though I left?”

 

“If you were the most wanted person in the world, I would still care for you.” Malcolm told me and I smiled. I breathed in deeply and he kissed me on the lips, and I kissed him back.

 

“You know what they’ll think of us.” I told him once we pulled away from the kiss.

 

“Who?”

 

“Everyone…. People on the streets. In cities. Towns. They won’t approve.” I confessed, looking away.

 

“Fort Peck would.” Malcolm commented and I sighed and stepped away for a moment.

 

“I know….” I looked around and sighed. “We better get this place cleaned up.”

 

“I’ll get the people inside and help you outside when I’m done. Then you can tell me about the gang.”


I sighed and nodded. “Okay.”

 

I started dragging the bodies into the swamp and sighed. It’s really not fair. These times…. Are unfair to us.

If only we could change the world to be ours….

[plaguedparadox]

Anything You Want - Chapter Six

The Boss

There were times I regretted just waking up at all, usually there was no reason apart from feeling as if I needed more sleep but this time there was definitely a reason as the people around me started whispering things around me, my name being muttered and giggles following as the corporate sense of dread chilled my blood especially as the giggling voices near me quietened down, indicating the new head of the company’s presence behind me. My gaze meets Thomas’s but all he can do now is give me a good luck smile before he turns to work on his files. Once again in a short amount of time, a plethora of the word ‘shit’ chanted across my thoughts, my body shaking slightly as I worried about being fired. True, I had only made my new boss spill coffee on himself but in previous jobs, I had been fired for less.

With a gulp and a deep breath to try and calm my nerves, I turned to face the devil. My jaw dropped as I looked up at him, the smug look on his overly handsome face, his well-kempt hair with not a strand out of place, his fitted tailored suit hugging his body while his shirt seemed to be struggling to hold together as the buttons strained against the material, his dark eyes stared down at me with flickers of amusement running through them. His smile widened as he leaned down slightly, I could just about hear that small purring sound as I watched his sharp, slightly elongated canines scrape gently against his bottom lip. I gulped once again as I continued to look up at Daemon, cursing my luck as I did so.

“Well now, this is certainly something. Isn’t it, my dear~?” His voice purred, the sound covering up the actual purr. I felt a bit dizzy as I tried to think of something to say, but I’m pretty sure I only made myself look silly with my mouth opening and closing in shock. “You need to be more careful with where you’re going but don’t worry, I know it wasn’t your fault. I’ll talk to the culprit afterwards.” The man threw me a smirk and winked before walking over where I had been tripped up. Quickly, I turned to face my computer as to make sure I wasn’t harassed for watching the person get told off. Some office workers really were worse than kids. A few far too silent moments went by before the whole floor practically shook as Daemon’s furious voice flooded the room. I slid down slightly into my chair, knowing that I really was going to get it at lunch.

Silence filled the room again as Daemon finally had enough at yelling at the employee that dared to trip me over. Thomas and I met glances before we both turned to look in the direction, the person who tripped me was now on their way out of the room, sobbing their heart out. “Something tells me that we shouldn’t anger him.” I looked at him with a ‘really?’ look before making a joke about how his temper was hotter than the coffee that got spilt. The atmosphere in my section of the room now calm as the joke got some of the surrounding cubicles giggling or at least smiling.

Agonisingly slow, that’s how I’d describe my day. There wasn’t much in the way of files or spreadsheets being sent my way and most of it was basic email work with some of the lower floors. Nate caught my attention as he made his way over. “Shorty, you got a problem.” Confused, I ask him what’s wrong as I look over his now pale face. “Big boss wants to see you.” He mutters before offering to come with me on the way but I wave his offer away and mention to him and Thomas that I’ll see them tomorrow before nervously making my way to the elevator, I leaned against the side wall and gingerly pressed the top button for the first time since I joined the company.

Why does Dae need to see me? My thoughts questioned as the elevator slowly raised through the building. Nerves were slowly getting the better of me as I began to pace around, my nails landing between my teeth as I began to think of all the possibilities ranging from him firing me because he didn’t want to have me work for him while we lived together or even him demoting me to show me he wasn’t going to play favourites. Or worst of all, him bringing up the rejection and causing an argument over it despite us both being at work. All I wanted to do was finish anything up and go home, it was easier to deal with him there as there wasn’t the power difference. A shaky sigh left me as the elevator dinged and opened their doors straight into Daemon’s new office.

The office was in a modern black and white style, much like our apartment so it was clear that Daemon had done the decorating. The walls and floor were a pure white, the tiles on the floor were extremely well polished too making me more than glad I was wearing trousers at that moment. I looked to the very end of the extremely large room, Daemon was talking to the current secretary who was rather blatantly trying to flirt with him. She was bent over, hands on the arm of his chair and a huge grin on her face, the way she moved her body showed that she was trying to drag his attention lower to somewhere else on her body but fortunately, his eyes stayed purely on her face. In fact, he looked like he was a moment away from hitting her. My feet were quiet against the floor as I made my way over but I still caught the attention of my new boss and his inappropriately behaving secretary who gave me the stink eye. “You wanted to see me, Mr Morningstar?” I ask sweetly, looking between him and the woman who was seemingly trying to sit in his lap. I wanted nothing more than to rip her away from him and show her that she was never going to have him but I pushed those thoughts away and instead focused on what was going on at that moment.

Daemon, despite clearly not liking the woman’s advances, gestured for the woman to leave us alone while remaining as polite as possible in his own smooth way. Once alone the man’s shoulders dropped and an irritated look crossed his face. “God, I can’t stand women like that. One look at a guy they deem attractive and suddenly they’re throwing themselves at them… It’ll just get them killed.” He snarled before making his way around the desk so he was standing in front of me. “Luckily, with you, I don’t have to worry about that though. I served you myself on a silver platter and even then you didn’t take a bite. I’m sure a handsome stranger would have less luck.” It seemed as if it was meant to be a joke but the words made my stomach feel as if it dropped, my gaze falling to the floor as a subtle hint of accusation crept over. With a not-so-gentle tug, my head was pulled to look up by the chin, Daemon’s single finger refusing to let it drop back down. “Perhaps I should offer using a gold plate next time~”

Crimson was painted across my cheeks but the sinking sensation faded as I realised that he wasn’t hurt by my rejection, skip of the beat of my heart as he made it clear he wanted to keep trying. I shoot him a smile before asking if he needed anything.

My boss made his way back around his desk and picked up the coat that was laid on the back of his chair. “Just wanted to know if you wanted to head home with me, we live together after all.” I barely even noticed him scoop up his briefcase as he walked in front of me once again. I mention that my bag is downstairs and I felt a bit awkward collecting my things with my boss waiting for me but he barely seemed bothered by my words and calmly said: “I’ll wait in the parking lot then.” and then sent me on my way.

Nate was still standing by my desk once I got back but I was too nervous about spilling to them that I lived with the boss that I just collected my things and gave them a quick goodbye before rushing down to the first basement level which contained the parking lot. I didn’t realise how cold the basement was until I was down there, a shiver ran through me as I could feel the hair on my arms begin to stand. I quickly jogged around to find the boss’s car space as fast as I could so my body would stop begging for warmth.

About five minutes of wandering occurred before I found the right spot but I didn’t go anywhere near the familiar Merc as it rocked from side to side slowly. My guts felt as if they were being twisted and yanked out through a tiny hole, the pain nearly sweeping me off of my feet as I hoped that he hadn’t been swayed by the secretary but that was most likely true. I could feel my eyes well up with tears as I began to slowly walk away, my feet lazily carrying me as tried to work out if I was dreaming still. CRACK. SNAP. THUD. The sounds of something seemingly being ripped apart caught my attention, my head cautiously turning back to the Merc to see it now no longer rocking, not even slightly.

My head snapped back to staring ahead of me as I could hear one of the doors click. I slowly walked forward and made my head look side to side as if I was looking for the car despite clearly knowing where it was. I felt a presence behind me but I continued my faux search, only turning when I heard someone clear their throat. With a fake surprised expression I turned to look at my roommate standing in a shadowy area that the weak lights failed to reach, his eyebrow raised. “There you are! I’ve been wandering for a small bit now!”

The dark, cold parking lot even seemed to chill Daemon’s smile that was clearly meant to be warm and inviting but for some reason seemed dishonest. “I was wondering what was taking you so long. You walked passed my car it seems.” He murmured, his tongue flicking out and licking away the substance that was at the corner of his mouth, I could barely tell what it was before it was gone. The dark didn’t help. Gah, it’s so cold. My hands came up to wrap around my arms, rubbing them to try and fight away the icy air. A concerned look crossed his face before he ushered me over and into his car.

I had to try and stop myself from gagging at the smell that emanated from the car, sex and blood were probably a nice mixture to smell for some but it just made me feel sick. I quickly glanced into the rear view mirror to see nothing there which made me worry a bit, I had only heard one set of footsteps and the secretary had heels so it wasn’t as if her shoes would have made her steps quiet. My gaze fell over to Daemon who looked a lot calmer than before, his hair was even over his face again much like it was at home but it was messier than normal, his chest heaving ever so slightly. Was… Was he masturbating in here? It was the only thing I could think of that made sense. I asked about the odd sounds I heard shortly before I saw him. My question seemed to confuse him at first before he leaned back into his seat, his arm reaching across and behind him, to something that seemed to be in the footwell of the seat behind him.

A few grunts left his lips as he seemed to struggle for whatever he was trying to grab. “I… seemed to have snapped… something at the bottom of my seat. I don’t know what though, might as well just get this stupid thing replaced.” He shrugged, pulling his arm back after he had given up trying to get whatever he was reaching for. He sighed and muttered about having the car since shortly before him and I met before telling me to buckle up as he started the car up.

The journey home wasn’t as bad this time, Dae let out a few choice words for those who had cut him up or were driving in a way he thought was more than just subpar but he committed to the speed limit which was good for my heart. Once we had gotten back, and into our apartment, we both went to our bedrooms to change. I was more than just glad that he wasn’t made that I had rejected him and a bit part of me was thrilled that he hadn’t slept with someone else but I did feel a bit silly at getting jealous and hurt over just suspecting him of doing that. It wasn’t as if we were even together.

Awkwardly, my sweet tooth began to play up as I started to crave Devil’s food cake which was a favourite of mine, especially when my old friend used to make it. I doubt it was normal to feel weird about walking around my own apartment in my old boyfriend’s top but something told me that Daemon probably wouldn’t like it, I elected to ignore that something as my stomach begged for the chocolatey goodness it desired. So, with my stomach winning over my head, I ventured forth towards the kitchen, grabbing my cookbook from a shelf along the way.

The delicious aroma of chocolate surrounded me and filled the air, catching the attention of the other sweet lover that was my roommate who was now donning a baggy pair of jogging bottoms and a loose white top instead of his usual well fitted suit and somehow he looked just as attractive. Before he could ask what I was making I thrust the bowl of the deep brown cake batter towards him, exclaiming gleefully that he should try it. I wasn’t as good as my old friend when it came to baking but I was ecstatic to see it come together nicely. I waited with held breath as he lightly licked some of the sweet substance off of his finger, a pleased look washing over his face as he licked the rest off.

We both waited, watching the cake bake in the oven, like a pair of children with our butts on the floor and knees pulled up to our chins, arms wrapped around our legs. Shoulder to shoulder. For some reason, the wonderful smell made me hungry, in more than one way. My legs rubbed together slightly, my tongue ran over my top lip and my eyes flickered over to the very appealing man next to me. I thought back to the Merc rocking and how he must have really been having fun as he dealt with his own frustration and that made the current moisture problem in my once clean underwear a whole lot worse.

My eyes snapped away as I noticed him begin to look at me, embarrassed with the more than lustful thoughts running through my mind. I’m not going to bang my boss. I’m not going to bang my boss. I’m not going to bang my boss. I chanted internally to myself as I turned my attention back to the cake. The minutes slowly ticked by and the mess that was in my pyjama bottom became worse and worse with each annoying tick of the clock. A quiet groan left me before the timer on my phone finally decided to blare out, alerting me to the fact the cake should have had enough time in the heat.

Loud purring dragged my attention away from the now cooling cake, my head turning to look at the man making the sound to find him leaning against the island, a huge wolf-like grin on his face as a massive blush covered his cheeks. Seems like I’m not the only one feeling the heat. I could feel my own face flush as he made his way over to me, his arms curling around my waist and pulling me close. “So, will a gold platter work this time~?” His soft lips ghosted over mine as his fingers worked their way under the loose fabric of my oversized top, his fingers brushing lightly over my skin causing goosebumps to rise over my arms and coating my legs - but that wasn’t the only thing coating my legs.

A low mutter of his name left my lips but his lips covered mine, shushing me in a wonderfully passionate way. The kiss quickly transformed from slow and sweet to heavy and passionate, teeth and tongue crashing as our breaths became hot and mangled, my fingers tangled in his black locks and his were pressing roughly into my skin most likely bruising it. The raised bite mark on my neck tingled and burned but intense lust coursing through my veins and a single look from him had me ignoring it as I pulled him towards my room, a grin on my lips. I could barely concentrate as I felt his hot lips land on my skin, sending chills down my spine.

Eventually, piece by piece, our clothes were shed and landed on the floor. Fingers brushing and teasing some of the most sensitive areas we could think of, moans, groans and pleasure filled whimpers left us in bucket loads as we collapsed onto my bed, barely noticing the bouncing of our bodies as they became entangled and becoming one. Almost scorching hot skin pressed against each other in such amazing ways as we began to do one of the oldest and most intimate dances known to man. And I didn’t want to regret a moment of it. I barely even noticed that the strong smell of chocolate that followed us into the room.

[secretsofthemasquerade]

What the fuck is happening with V5, neonazis, and shits.

So, first, terminology. Everything I am going to be talking about here concerns the company White Wolf Publishing, which is the Swedish company created by Paradox Interactive for when they bought back the IP from CCP. 

This DOES NOT include Onyx Path (with whom I have grievances, but they are mostly a question of taste and some of their business practices I am somewhat disapprove of, but this has nothing to do with them), and their classical authors, whom have nothing to do in the thing. So don’t go about telling Richard Thomas he’s a Nazi asshole okay? They’re clean in this matter and their statement is genuine and honest, and their statement matches their actions and publications. This also does not involve By Night Studios. 

Basically, White Wolf Publishing (new version, the one in Sweden, owned by Paradox) has released a preview for V5 (corebook, which is due in three weeks), and they presented neo-nazis in a way that is controversial to say the least, in the clanspread Brujah for V5, which is in their V5 preview.

Some see it as "wwp trying to make neo nazis play their game", some are saying "lol sjw are being sensitive and ruining everything", some are saying "it's ok to explore dark themes but this is poorly worded and looks like they're glorifying it", and some are all censorship and stuff. 

The spectrum of answers are very wide, with assholes on both sides, and death threats being sent to everyone by everyone. Including OPP people who are completely out of the loop on this one (altho some may argue that since they’re licensing the IP from WWP that makes them a level of complicit/quiet acceptance; that argument can be heard, but I am pragmatic and I understand they don’t want their company and their livelihood to sink into oblivion because Ethics are superior to Food)

Here’s the catch. People aren’t pissed just about the Brujah issue, that places neo-nazis at the same level as any other character concept and definition of the Brujah, without an ounce of self awareness, and using terminologies that clearly appeal to gamer gaters (the use of terms such as “fourth wave feminists” and others...). They’re pissed and worried because this isn’t the first WWP offense, they have multiple times allowed themselves to poke towards such people, more or less willingly. 

There's been plenty of other signs by the WWP crew that they may be integrating alt-right and neo nazi elements in their games, not because they are saying they're a thing, but also somewhat inserting (willingly or not) some propaganda elements, not as a way to criticize them, but normalizing them or even misrepresenting them as "rebels with a cause" (aka Brujah, which makes little sense nowadays, current day neo nazis and alt rights are in positions of power and are very much accepted if not encouraged by our political systems, much to my screaming French ass). 

They somewhat normalize and even glorify them. Despite being a game about monsters (lol u know what vamps are?? have said many people on those threads), it isn’t a game about BEING a monster. It is a game about Dealing with It and their Humanity. 

WWP says it's to "acknowledge the state of the world today" but other elements such as dog whistle elements for neonazis, as well as the use of hate groups types of phrasings (euphemisms, like, clearly derogating terms like "fourth wave feminism" mocking tone like) are pushing non-straight non-white, non-male players out of their base. And oddly, almost everyone defending their edge-approach are.. yes, regular white dudes.

Add in their hiring of Zak S for their video game from February 2017 and the overall lack of research, + their apology / non apology / defense about all of these issues altogether up to now about the whole ordeal when people bring out the issues, and you've got a massive shitstorm of suspicion about whether they are actually openly welcoming neo-nazis and alt-righters into the games, especially when public comments made by WWP staff implies "they are very fine people” and “both extremes are horrible”, putting into equal footing antifascists and neonazis. That in and out of itself is suspicious, but arguable to some degree. Plenty of comments have been made both by the horrid fanbase, but also by WWP staff on the matter, as such they cannot really deny their hands being dirty (looking at you, MR-H and Ericsson, receipts are provided all over reddit and the FB threads from WWP but also from the VtM groups, including this one).

Just because they state they condemn racism, sexism and xenophobia, doesn’t mean that their writings and actions match those statements. They still sign “Blood and Souls,” their letters and posts, which is ODDLY similar to “Blood and Soil”, a known Neo-Nazi chant. The integration of 1 4 8 8 as a dice roll result may be completely meaningless and a sad occurrence, but there are SO MANY other occurrences that giving them the benefit of the doubt is hard. Especially when you add the fact that the lead dev has written books about nazis (so has done research, and when you research, 1488 comes up easily). 

I’m always willing to blame ignorance and stupidity over Malice, and I am doing it for V5 write-ups, but their apologies and defense instead of listening to our concerns takes away their credibility. Their reaction should have been to listen and fix it.

In Game, there is also a BIG BIG PROBLEM that the authors didn’t even research. The Alt Right and neonazis are NOT in a marginal position of protesters anymore. They are in power. They are very much allowed, encouraged, protected by the system, at least in most Western Societies. They are no Brujah hunting ground, they are great Ventrue targets! 

There’s a difference between allowing the themes be used and explored very darkly and grimly and glorifying them as a good thing (the little red book or Leni Riefenstahl’s movies), and doing the same but with careful research, expert consulting and making sure your intent is clear as a content creator (like the Handmaiden’s tale or 1984). You can’t objectively say that Wolfenstein is a game that approves of nazis despite being all about nazis, nor Far Cry 5 about wtf is going on in Far Cry 5, or that Just Cause approves of American Intervention in island nations or Latin American countries, or that Tropico approves of banana island dictatorships. Cartel Ciudad Juarez or many modern warfare games, on the other hand, do not manage this and are clearly not aware of what their game is saying (not unlike a RPG like Fatal... :p).

Then the article archived and linked above was made and shared, and that’s where all shit hit the fan. I do not believe the author is fully right about everything in the contents, especially when it comes to Zak S (who is an asshole by all means, but he is neither a gamer gater nor an alt righter), but there are solid elements that put together some of the various “uh” moments. The article has since been removed due to the harassment, death threats and worse. 

Oddly, Reddit is doing okay (x, x) but Twitter has also given us frowny things about upcoming W5...

Do I think they are openly and willingly trying to pull one past us? No. Do I think the WoD has brought in lots of neonazis as players and has been a problem since the 1990s? Yes, for Vampire and Werewolf for sure. (Werewolf in particular is plagued with them despite the Revised attempts at fixing certain things...). Do I believe the 20th anniversary edition were made to glorify those days? No. Not at all. Do I think Ericsson and co are neonazis? No. They’re not. Do I think WWP is trying to be edgy to cater to anti-sjw and unapologetic show offs? Yes. Do I think WWP wants to openly cater to neonazis? No, but they’re not doing anything to make a stance against them buying and using their games. If their idea of Mature Themes is punching down and glorifying monsters, they are wrong and we should let them know. If a mature theme is exploring the dark sides of the world in a thoughtful manner, having Horror as a key component of VTM, then yes, that is what we want, but it has to be presented properly and fine-tuned. Right now, it’s “oh, wouldn’t it be cool/grim if...?”. They need to consult experts. They need to hire sociologists. Psychologists. Game Theorists. They need to SEE what Chaosium has done with Call of Cthulhu. They need to 

I’m just also going to say that the two FB WWP threads are insane (here and here), full of fanboys and fangirls defending WWP and telling them they shouldn’t apologize, they even made a petition saying they did nothing wrong. I do not want to give up, and I do not want to let my voice be silenced by these assholes for a game I love and care about even if I am such a critic of it.

Let me be very clear. The problem is -not- the inclusion of asshole character concepts in the write up, it is the WoD after all... The problem is that they are presenting them under a good, acceptable, apologetic light even. The problem isn’t exactly the content of the game, the problem is how little research and how little awareness they’ve had about their publication, and the responses that they have given when we have raised questions and concerns about these issues. The problem is Accidental Indoctrination. The problem is Propaganda Games. What are your mechanics saying? What are your actions saying? What is your game saying?

https://youtu.be/4jKsj345Jjw

https://youtu.be/UP4_bMhZ4gA

(Yes they’re video games but it’s he same thing)

And in opposition, extra credits did also an episode about the Shoah book for Wraith. https://youtu.be/EDEgXUqHL9Q

So, do we want great quality mature content, serious gaming material, or shock for shock value? Do we want This War of Mine, Papers Please, Dead of Winter, CupidVN, Spec Ops the Line, Bury Me My Love? Or do we want Hatred, DARK, WoD Preludes, Ciudad Juarez or even Dante’s inferno?

Games Matter.

Education Matters

We matter.

Tyvm

If you have any questions, they’re going to do an AMA on Twitch on July 13, here’s the info.

Let’s try and be numerous to voice our concerns. EDIT: Blood and Souls actually references Elric, it was my bad and I apologize for it, but you’ll understand that sometimes, when it sounds and moves like a horse, it’s hard to see it’s a zebra. Especially considering all past elements from the different eyebrow raising worth of edge for edge’s sake.

I still do not believe they’re deliberately calling neo-nazis but considering their AMA’s comments of people who just don’t want to be respectful and do basic research when treating mature content in an adult way, and be like “hell no, DARK STUFF, don’t steal my dark stuff!”, there’s honestly all the proof we need that that’s the kind of crowd they’ve accepted was using their games as entertainment. Jason’s answers were clear, and did not bite the whole “but what about antifaaaa”. I’m cautiously optimistic, and I’ve chosen, like many others, to keep publishing in the Vault to show them we can do better, and that it’s in the community’s best interest they listen.

They also confirmed Mark Rein Hagen was just a “consultant” and isn’t part of the team in anyway ;)

[hamilkilo]

Safe Haven

Prompt: as requested by ANONYMOUS: Polysquad fic where the reader is super sweet and cute and innocent and the squad loves her with all their hearts and they have to defend her against TJeff because he was very rude to her. I just need some more protective squad in my lie Pairing: Poly!Hamilsquad TW: derogatory names, slut shaming, fat shaming, bullying, sexual harassment, unwanted advances, cursing, violence, crying, mentions of panic attacks and hard of breathing, overprotective hamilsquad A/N: okay, I’m dipping into a personal experience that I’m hoping will work for this piece! Please, if someone treats you the way Thomas treats the reader, TELL SOMEONE! Get help! You deserve help! You deserve to feel safe! I love you so much! If you want me to tag something, please let me know! I want you to feel safe when reading my work! Please enjoy!! Word Count: 3053

You worked at your local coffee shoppe, fresh out of high school. You had graduated, and now you had all this extra free time over the summer and no money. The shoppe had just opened in the old town square they were trying to fix up, and because of your stellar personality and genuine kindness, you were hired on the spot. You actually liked your job. It was easy, and you loved talking to people! It’s where you actually met your boys, too! They were rowdy and loud, but they were so lively it made you laugh.

You did have bad days at your job, though. Sometimes, a boy from your old school would come by and hassle you. He’d always done it. He’d kick your stuff in class, call you names, the usual routine for bullies. You’d tried to get help, but the school staff was fairly useless. He would occasionally come by, tease you about your uniform. “I didn’t know they could make clothes for whales! How far we’ve come!” Ignorant, hurtful stuff like that. You’d never mentioned it to the boys. You didn’t want them to get involved. It wasn’t a big deal; it was just ridiculous high school stuff. You’d ignore him and give him your best customer service, and he’d eventually leave. Today, however, seemed to be different. For starters, the shoppe was about to close, and all the other workers had gone home. It was only you finishing up. Thomas came into the shoppe a little different. He was a little more surly. It was later at night, and considering he smelled like the floor of a bar, he was probably piss drunk. “Well, look who’s in off the street corner! It’s my favorite, little slut! Y/N, I wish I could say you look good, but it’s a sin to lie…” he grinned at you like a predator, and you dug your fingernails into your palm, but remained calm. “Can I get the Mud Puddle? I don’t know, you remind me of a little piggy, and it makes me thirsty for one of those.” He leaned on the counter and raked your body up and down when he ordered, not once meeting your eyes. You felt bare in front of him. Vulnerable. You bit your lip, but forced a smile and your sweet, customer service. He was a person after all, whether he treated you like one or not. And you really needed this job. “Can I get you anything else?” You forced through your fake smile. “Ah, look at you. Such a diligent whore. Well, maybe when you get off…” he leaned forward so that he was right next to your ear. You could feel his hair tickling your cheek, and it sent shivers down your spine. You could smell the liquor on his breath. “You could suck my dick.” He pulled away and grinned at you again. You had dropped your smile, and your face was red. You had a deep blush seeping down your neck. You wanted to throttle him, but you couldn’t. He was so much bigger than you. He slid a hundred dollar bill across the counter, but you couldn’t move. “Keep the change, Y/N,” he winked at you before he strode away to wait for his drink. You mechanically ran his bill, but you stared at the change in your hand. You’d just have to give it back. You were not a whore, and you definitely would not let him treat you like one. You made his drink, his words rolling through your mind like a dark tornado. You curled your fingers around the money, and you grabbed his drink in your hand. He had ordered the Mud Puddle hot, like some nerd. You did your best not to storm over to him. He had sat down at a table, and his eyes tracked your every movement. When you reached the table, you opened your fist and let the bills and change clatter into the table top. “I appreciate the tip, but I’m afraid I can’t accept it,” you murmured, eyes on the money. You couldn’t look him in the eye. “Y/N, really, take it.” You had gone to put his coffee on the table, but he had grabbed some money in his hand and was trying to hand it to you, and you were too awkward and embarrassed to pay attention, and he was too drunk to react, and now your skin was on fire! The coffee had spilled all over you, and the cup toppled to the floor. He had accidentally knocked it out of your hand. You let a few curse words tumble from your lips, your white shirt now blotchy and stained. “Shit, sorry!” You’d never heard Thomas apologize before. He must be shitfaced. You didn’t say anything, you rushed to the back room where there was a sink and dish towels. You began to splash cold water on your shirt. You hissed, your skin stinging from the burn. That coffee was really hot. Not McDonald’s coffee hot, but close. You felt tears welling in your eyes, but you bit your lip and repressed them. There was a hand on your shoulder, and to your disgust, it was Thomas. “Now you have to take the money, Y/N,” he slurred as he began to roughly stuff the bills down your shirt. You squealed and swatted his hands. “Don’t touch me!” Your voice wavered as you backed away. You didn’t want him anywhere near you. He made your skin crawl. “Come on, would a hug make it better?” He began to move towards you, reaching, and your heart began to race. “Don’t touch me! Leave me alone!” You cried, your voice a little stronger, as you backed out towards the till. He followed, not relenting. “Stop! Don’t touch me! Seriously!” Your voice was now a little harsher. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? Your back pressed against the counter of the till, and you were cornered. He gave you a lopsided grin before he pulled you into his arms. A shiver of disgust ran down your spine as his hands roamed, and he felt you up. You quickly pushed him away, but he still had you cornered. You had nowhere else to go. “Please, don’t,” you whispered, and your voice cracked. “Y/N!” You heard a voice shout, and you glanced over your shoulder to see your four boys rushing through the door. When they saw the predicament you were in, they froze, and Alex’s fists balled up. “So that’s it? That’s why you come home so late?” His voice was calm and collected. Never a good think from someone that spent their free time shouting. The real reason you came home late was because you had to stay late to clean up and sometimes cry after a visit from Thomas. He always had something mean to say, but he had never put his hands on you before. “I…” You couldn’t find your words. You didn’t want to tell them. It was your problem, not theirs. “I can’t believe you’re sleeping with the enemy,” Alex’s voice was cold. The others just looked on, not interrupting, just watching. “You always seemed a little too friendly-” That caused something in you to snap, and you began to cry. Thomas had always called you a whore, and you’d ignored him. But now, Alex? One of the loves of your life? He went on to say something else, but Laf was quick to stop him. “Enough. I want to ‘ear from 'er.” All eyes turned to you. You had turned to face them, and Thomas used the opportunity to squeeze your ass. Hot tears trailed down your cheeks. You were humiliated and losing your boys. Would they even believe you? The school didn’t. The teachers didn’t. No one ever stood up for you! And he never stopped! Your head hung low, your shoulders slumped, and your mind ran out of control. “Get away from me,” you whispered to him. You could feel him pressing against the back of you and it made you sick to your stomach. “GET AWAY FROM ME!” You were in hysterics. Too much was happening. You’d been nice for too long. Sometimes, you just can’t kill with kindness. “Y/N-” Laf began to say, but you had lost it. You shoved Thomas roughly before you hopped the counter. You knocked a plate of muffins off, causing glass and crumbs to fly. You slid to the floor, glancing from face to face. You finally looked at Alex, who was absolutely fuming. “I didn’t cheat. I swear, it’s not-” “It’s not what it looks like, right?” He mocked, and Herc put a hand on his shoulder, reminding him to be calm. “I-I…” you couldn’t breathe. “He… uh…” “She’s a whore! I know that, you know that! Have you seen the way this beached whale dresses? Fresh off the street corner chic! Probably gets her clothes out of the dumpster behind Weight Watchers! She’s a little full of herself if you ask me. How much do you guys pay her? Because apparently one hundred bucks is too cheap for a blowjob,” Thomas ranted, and you crumpled. You slumped down and hugged your chest. Now they knew. They knew all the horrible things Thomas would say to you. It was humiliating. You felt so small. “What the fuck did you just say?” Alex’s voice was low, and angry. He glanced at you. “Y/N, is this true?” “Are you asking if I’m a whore?” You wept, and suddenly, a pair of arms were around you. From the height and build, you knew it was Lafayette. He pulled you against his chest, and he gently stroked your hair. “He… he said stuff like that to me… e-every day, Laf… he…. he never leaves me alone,” you sobbed, clutching at his shirt and wheezing. You were on the brink of a panic attack. “Mon ange, why didn’t you tell us?” He whispered to you as he gripped you tighter. “B-because no one ever believes me… and… and today,” you paused to try to catch your breath, “I told him not to t-t-touch me…” you began sobbing even harder, “But he didn’t listen, Laf! And… and he violated me!” Your cries were animalistic as you wailed the last part. Laf pulled you closer to him as you buried your head into his chest and began weeping. “You son of a bitch!” Alex cried out, and shortly after that, you heard the sound of skin on skin. Someone had punched someone. Thomas cried out in pain, and there was more clamor and shouting. Laf had slowly pulled you away from the glass. He eased you both onto the floor where he held you in his lap. “Shhh, we believe you, ma belle. Je souhaite tu nous a dit… I wish you told us,” he whispered as he ruffled your hair. He had calmed you down enough to get you to come out of his shirt. You looked over through blurry tears to see Herc having to haul John and Alex off of a black, blue, and red Thomas before they killed him. “'Erc, I think we should get 'er 'ome and in bed,” Laf murmured as you still wheezed. ���I can’t… the shoppe…” you mumbled, taking in the mess. “We’ll take care of it and meet you back at the house,” John replied as he wiped blood from his split lip. Laf pulled you into his arms before he stood. He adjusted you so he could throw the keys to Herc before he fished yours out of your pocket. He carried you out of the shoppe and down the street to your car. He opened the door and gently eased you inside. He fastened the seatbelt over you before he got in on the driver’s side and buckled up. He started your car and slowly pulled out onto the road. “I’m sorry,” you finally whispered, able to breathe a little better. Laf looked over at you before looking back at the road. “For what? You 'ave done nothing wrong!” He reached out and took your hand in his. You were shaking from your panic, but he just gripped your trembling hand tighter. “I should’ve stood up for myself… I was just afraid… He had a bad rep at my school, and he’s been this way for so long… I just didn’t want to bother you, and now John has a split lip, and Alex is heartbroken, and all of this could’ve been avoided if I wasn’t so… so… 'friendly’.” You spat the word Thomas had used like a curse, fresh tears of anger welling in your eyes again. “Y/N, it’s not your fault. You told him to get away from you, we 'eard you, and he didn’t. You didn’t consent. You being kind did not elicit that! And, your kind 'eart is one of my favorite things about you, ma chérie,” he gushed, and you giggled. “I love 'ow kind you are. You are understanding of people, patient. Never think that that is a flaw. Kindness is not… 'ow you say? Ah, weakness!” He pulled into the driveway and parked before he shut the engine off and looked at you. He brushed away your tears with delicate, practiced fingers, and kissed you on the forehead. “You are beautiful…” you began to blush and look away, but he cupped your face and brought you back. “No, look at me. You are beautiful, sweet, kind, lovely, smart, funny, and perfect. We love you, d'accord? Je t'aime beaucoup. Tu es mon petit ange et je ne sorti pas. I love you, my small angel, and I’m not going anywhere. Okay? We aren’t going anywhere.” You sat like that for a few moments before he got out and led you into the house. You went into the closet and grabbed your pajamas while he rifled through the medicine cabinet for some burn cream. After you had changed, he unbuttoned the front of your pajama top and gingerly rubbed cream on the blotchy skin. You watched his face while he did so, and you closely admired his beauty. How did you get so lucky? You heard the garage door open, and the clatter of the boys coming in. “Y/N? Laf? We’re home!” Alex called, and Laf called a greeting back. They came into the bathroom, and Alex was quick to pull you into an embrace. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, truly I am. I’m an ass. I should never have doubted you, and I understand if you can’t even talk to me right now; I deserve it. I should’ve been there for you, but instead, I accused you. I made you cry, and I’m just so sorry,” his voice cracked as he pressed you against his chest. You wrapped your arms around him. “I forgive you. Don’t worry; I know it looked compromising…” Alex scoffed, “Don’t even make it seem remotely like your fault. I was out of line-” “It’s fine, really. I’m okay,” you reassured him. After a pause, you spoke again. “I’m getting burn cream all over you.” “That bastard burned you?!” Alex quickly pulled away from you and held you at arms length. There were obvious burns down your front. He gritted his teeth, and his hands tightened on your shoulders. “Lets go, John. I’m killing him!” He turned to grab John, but you grabbed his wrist. “It was an accident!” You explained quickly. “He didn’t mean to. We bumped into each other! He wasn’t trying to hurt me!” Alex stood there for a minute, an obvious debate happening in his mind. Then he sighed, “i still wanna kill him, though.” “I know,” you admitted, and he gave you a small smile. He pulled you against him again while Laf began to treat the split lip John had. Herc rubbed Laf’s shoulders from behind while he worked, and Alex whispered sweet nothings to you. After a while of standing in the bathroom, everyone had finally gotten ready to go to bed, and Herc dragged you with him. He fell back into bed, pulling you with him. You giggled as he pulled you up on his chest and put his arms around you. “I will never, ever let that creep put his hands on you, okay? I promise. You call me if he ever shows his face there again. Even if you’re driving on the other side of town and you see him, you call me. I’ll be there. I won’t let him near you, baby.” “Thank you,” you whispered as you grabbed his shoulder and squeezed affectionately. John crawled up next to you and trailed a hand up and down your thigh, not sexually, just affectionately. “Yeah, if he even thinks about breathing near you, call me, and I’ll come beat the shit out of him. I’m so sorry we didn’t earlier. He’s never coming near you again. We aren’t going anywhere. We’ll protect you, always. Just give us the word.” You turned to him, and he was looked up at you. He gave you a grin, which caused him to wince because of his lip. You leaned forward and gently kissed him. “I love you.” You whispered. Laf and Alex were the last ones to join. Alex crawled over and curled up on John before Laf threw an arm over them both and spooned his little spoons. “I’m serious, Y/N. If you need anything, no matter 'ow small, please, s'il vous plaît, tell us. We will be there, no questions asked. Nous t'aimons. We love you. We want to protect you,” Laf whispered as his eyes burned into yours in the dark. “I love you guys,” you whispered as your heart swelled. After no one believing or defending you for so long, you had a group of protectors. “We want you safe,” Alex murmured. The other boys hummed in agreement. You curled up on Herc’s broad chest as he softly stroked your back. You reached out and held Alex’s hand as John continued rubbing your leg. Laf’s hand found your hair, which he softly played with, and in a safe havens you drifted to sleep.

[romanoartsless]

Yeah so um I don’t know what to say so here’s an update

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Chapter 42

Thomas was minding his own business when an arm suddenly wrapped itself around his neck from behind. It took him aback at first until he looked to his side and saw a familiar blond. “Do you always have to make such… dramatic entrances?”

“Yes!” Crispin exclaimed. “When you purchase your friendship with Crispin Petrov, be sure to read the fine print. Spontaneous dramatic entrances are sure to be there.”

Thomas rolled his eyes, but smiled at the remark. “Any news about the competition?”

“Oh yeah, I think I heard someone say the king is raising the stakes or something.”

“Raising the stakes? What does that mean?”

“I think he’s making us report to him everyday or something. That’s what I heard my dad say when I was eavesdropping on him.”

This was not good. Only having to meet up with the king every week gave him time to both get what he needed done with Caterina, but also think up a good enough story to fool the king with. Daily meetings would throw this all off. “Do you know why?”

“Nah, I think that’s what he’s gonna talk to us about today.”

A pause in silence grew between them as Thomas pondered how he might sort this all out until- “Do you want to maybe hang out after this whole meetup thing? Go get drinks or something?”

“Huh?”

“Oh I was just thinking, for people who throw the label best friend around so freely, we barely ever spend any one on one time together anymore, you know, ‘cause we’re busy lately and stuff. I dunno… I thought it was a good idea, but if you-.”

“I’d love to go get drinks with you, Crispin.”

His face lit up at the reply. “Great!” he said, skipping a bit in front of Thomas. “And Gideon’s not crashing the party this time, understood?”

“Understood.”

* * *

Thomas didn’t want to interrupt the king to tell him he was here when he first walked in. He seemed distracted at the moment. He sat at his desk, holding a picture frame containing a collage of circular images of his own face. “I’ll find you,” Thomas swore he heard him whisper to himself, “I promise.”

“Sir?”

“Oh!” the king said, placing the frame back on his desk as he turned around. “Captain! Please, come in.”

Thomas sat down before him in on of the chairs set out. “Crispin told me you were… raising the stakes of the competition?”

“Yes! Yes. I imagine he also told you I wanted all of you in the competition to meet me every other day now.”

“Oh. He said it was everyday.”

“No, it’s every other day. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, good. But yes, the plan is every other day. However I will give all of you a handful of free days, but you must have an excuse.”

“May I ask why you’re raising the stakes?”

“... Personal reasons.”

Thomas didn’t bother to pry any further information out of him. “Now Thomas,” the king began again, “I’ve heard others have been slacking off in their search. You’re not one of those people are you?”

“No sir.” His face stayed blank even when images of Caterina flashed through his mind. Her hair. Her eyes. Her tattoos. Her smile that he wished he could witness one day.

“Captain?”

“Yes?”

“You looked a little distracted there.”

“Oh! Sorry about that.”

“Are you really sure you don’t slack off?”

“One hundred percent sure, sir.”

“Then what have you found so far?”

And Thomas lied straight to the king of Novak’s face. He ate up every line of how he went east and searched and searched to no avail. So much detail he put into these intricate lies that only a select few would think them false. No mention of Caterina. No mention of a search for a murderer.

The king’s deep brown eyes looked like they were on the verge of tears, but before they could spill down his cheeks, he sharply turned around in his seat. “You can go now, captain.”

* * *

About an hour later, Crispin sat at Thomas’s side and they made their way off to a nearby bar. Crispin made his usual snarky remarks as they did their stroll. “I’m just saying,” he joked, “everything in my life would make so much more sense if March Ranez was secretly my dad.”

“Crispin, the chances of you being the secret love child of your mother and March Ranez are just about as slim as the chances of me being the secret love child of my mother and the Wrie prime minister. I mean you have-.”

“I know, I know. I have my dad’s eyes, but like I wish March Ranez was secretly my dad. He’s a cool dude.”

Thomas rolled his eyes and the two of them kept walking. When they finally reached the bar, they sat down at the counter and ordered their drinks. A few hours into chatting, when he was a bit drunk, Crispin said, “You know, the last time I was at a bar, I stabbed a dude’s hand. I mean it was a few months ago, but like yeah, I did that.”

Thomas just about choked on the sip of his drink he was taking. “I’m sorry, you did what?!”

“Just, you know, stabbed some guy’s hand. Like bing bang boom one minute he doesn’t have a knife in his hand, the next he does. That simple.”

“I’m guessing you were blackout drunk when this all happened. Am I right?”

“Nope! I was completely sober!”

Thomas almost choked for a second time. “I know I’ll regret asking this, but why would you stab someone’s hand while you’re sober?”

“He was harassing this girl and, let me tell you, I couldn’t watch that go down so… stab stab stab! I mean it was only one stab, but you get the point. But like Thomas, you don’t understand-”

Crispin began to bang his fists on the table, but Thomas stopped him, saying, “Crispin, you’re drunk. You need to drink some water and calm down.”

“-how hot she was! She was so hot! Truth is, I haven’t been doing jack shit for this competition, I’ve just been hanging out with this girl like every week for the past few months. Like wow, she’s hot. And nice! Fuck, she’s so nice to me. And like sincere, I actually care about you, Crispin, nice and not, I secretly just want to get into your pants, nice. She’s just… wow! Like I kind of want to-.” And in that moment, Crispin took his hand and began to passionately kiss the back of it.

“No! Oh gods no!” Thomas exclaimed, pulling Crispin’s hand away from his face. “We’re in public! Can someone get him a glass of water?”

The bartender set down a glass of water in front of the blond, who chugged it like a shot. “Woo!” Crispin shouted. “You know, brown eyes are soooo beautiful. I could stare into brown eyes forever. Like wow! Hey everyone! I love brown eyes!!!”

“Thank you? But Crispin, you really need to calm down.”

“I’m not talking about your eyes, silly. I’m talking about her.” He was pointing at the wall all the bottles were shelved on.

“Crispin, you’re drunk. You need to drink some water, eat something.”

Thomas pushed the small bowl of nuts on the counter towards Crispin, who promptly poured them in his mouth and on himself. Again, the bartender set down a glass of water in front of Crispin, who took it down with ease. “Another round!”

“No! No. Crispin, I think we’ve had enough for tonight.”

“Noooo! Thomas, you’re no fun! I wanna drink and talk about girls!”

Thomas was practically dragging Crispin out of the bar at this point. “I’ll talk about girls with you if you cooperate with me and just walk to my house with me.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Alrighty!”

Crispin drunkenly skipped beside Thomas as they walked to the captain’s home. Once they got there, Thomas opened the door, Crispin ran in, and crashed onto the couch in the front room. “You said we could talk about girls.”

“Yes I did. Let me go get drinks.” And by drinks he meant water. “Are you ever going to tell me who this mysterious brown eyed girl is?”

“No! It’s a secret.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because I just don’t feel like telling anyone.”

Thomas sighed and asked, “Well then, how long have you had feelings for her?”

“What?! I don’t have feelings for anyone! Especially not her! We’re just friends!”

“Crispin, you were literally making out with your hand talking about this girl.”

“It was platonically!”

“I don’t think fantasizing about making out with someone is a platonic thing.”

“You just don’t understand the deepness of our bond, Thomas.”

“You must be a sentimental drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!”

“You’re wasted.”

“Fine then, Mr. Sober, tell me something about some girl in your life.”

“Well… um… there isn’t one.”

“I call bullshit. You hesitated.”

“Um…” Thomas couldn’t think of an answer to please Crispin, so, since the latter was intoxicated and would likely forget the entire conversation by morning, Thomas spat out the first name that came to mind. “Caterina.”

“Oh my gods, there really is someone! Tell me about her so I know she isn’t fake.”

Shit. “Well,” he said ad sat down on the couch next to Crispin who sat alert as can be, “her hair reminds me of midnight skies and every time I see the sunset and the sky goes dark it makes me think of her. And the way the moon glows against the sky reminds me of her skin. Her eyes are so dark and I just want them to consume me entirely when I look into them. And she’s so tall and regal and just-.” It scared him how easily this all came off his tongue.

“Thomas Arthur Dubroin. Holy fucking shit. Why isn’t everyone in Novak dropping their panties for you?! If someone said something like that about me, I’d marry them that second.”

“Thank you…?”

There was a pause before Crispin said, “I’m gonna hibernate  so your overly romantic ass better get off the couch unless you want me to use your lap as a pillow.”

Thomas chuckled and said, “No thank you,” before getting off the seat and heading up to his bedroom. But before he left entirely, he set a bucket beside Crispin for when the hangover would surely set in.

Chapter 43

It had been two weeks and Thomas hadn’t come back. Caterina had grown too used to his bi-weekly visits that not seeing him in that amount of time made her anxious. She’d sit by the door all day the days he was supposed to come, waiting. Some days she’d bring her sketchbook, others she’d just stare at the wall. “Dammit Dubroin,” she muffled under her breath, “where are you?”

She wondered if maybe he decided never to come back. He got her all the files she needed, why did she need him to come back? Why did she want him to come back? Why had her mind, for the past two weeks, been entirely clouded by thoughts of Thomas Arthur Dubroin? Is he ever coming back? Is he just going to abandon me without telling me why? Does he secretly hate me? Why do I miss him so much? Oh gods. Her stomach felt sick at any of the possible ideas that came to her mind.

Then, all of a sudden, the door come swinging open. Caterina half expected it to be the Crows, but got a pleasant surprise when she looked up into golden brown eyes. Before she even realized what she was doing, she jumped off the ground and wrapped her arms around Thomas’s neck. “Well hello to you, too, Caterina.”

She immediately pushed herself away from him, realizing what she had done. “Where the hell have you been for the past few weeks?”

“Back west. The king’s tightening our schedules a bunch and-.”

“Why didn’t you at least give me a heads up?”

“I regretted it the moment I realized what I did. Look, I’m sorry. I thought, at first, you’d be fine since you had all the files. Then I remembered… what happened to you and,” he reached out and grabbed her hand, his thumb drawing swirls on the top of her hand, “I’m sorry, Caterina.”

This time when she wrapped her arms around his neck, she was fully aware of what she was doing. When she pulled away from the embrace, it was much more gentle and only a way for her to be able to walk into her room. She turned around when she realized he wasn’t following her. “You coming?”

“Oh! Yeah.”

Thomas sat down onto his usual chair, awkwardly picking at his fingernails. “So,” Caterina said from across the room, on her bed, “do you care if I ask you something… personal?”

“Yeah, what is it?”

“Do you have any… unnatural-.”

“Physical attributes? No Caterina, I don’t think I’m your soul partner.”

“You’re the only explanation.”

“But I’m not. If it’s not me then I’m not the only explanation.”

“Do you think there’s a possible loophole?”

“No. I don’t think you would’ve fainted when you overused on magic a few weeks ago had I been your soul partner.”

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!”

Thomas chuckled from across the room. “Why are you laughing, Thomas?”

“Nothing, you just make me laugh.”

Caterina tried to hide it when her face flushed red. “Thank you.”

“Thank you? That’s very polite. Who is this new, more polite Caterina?”

“Friend Caterina. Before, that was acquaintance Caterina.”

“Friend? You consider us friends? I’m so honored.”

“As you should be?”

He laughed again. “And who might top tier Caterina be?”

“Crow Caterina, but you’ll never get to meet her.”

“That’s okay, I just want to meet Thomas Caterina.”

Caterina froze. She couldn’t hide her now ripe red face anymore. What made it worse was somewhere deep down inside her she hoped he’d have his own personal level one day, too. Next thing she knew, her mouth was moving without her thinking about it. “I know you got me all the files I wanted, but like… can you keep coming back?”

“Do you have a crush on me or something?”

“No!”

“There’s no need to get defensive, I’m just kidding. But yeah, I’ll come back.”

“I understand if you don’t want to- wait, you’ll come back?”

“Yeah. I mean I could say I’ll keep coming so the king thinks I haven’t found you, but in reality I just like you.”

“You like me?”

“I like you.”

“That’ll change soon.”

Three times. He’d laughed three times now. She hadn’t even meant to make him laugh, but he still did. The sound was what she wished her dreams consisted of. “Gods Caterina, you’re hilarious, I hope you know that.”

“So now you’re just gonna sit there and compliment me.”

“Yes, yes I am.”

“Please, go on.”

“Alright.”

Whenever he’d say something about her, she’d snark back with a reason why it wasn’t special. “If my grandmother weren’t such a petty bitch, my hair would’ve just been brown. It’s nothing special.”

“How do you know that?”

“How do you think I know that?”

His brown face went as red as it could for its complexion. “Well…”

A cackle fell out of her mouth. “Thomas Dubroin! Oh my god! Get your mind out of the gutter! I know because had brown hair. Sweet little Thomas has a dirty mind now doesn’t?”

“Shut up.”

Caterina began to mock him, sitting like he was and imitating his voice. “Shut up, Caterina. You’re calling me out for my dirty ass mind.”

A vulgar gesture came at her from Thomas. She returned the favor. “You’re what Novak needs, Caterina,” he said between chuckles.

“Ah yes, Novak needs the most wanted person in the whole country.”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean someone who doesn’t just sit around and mope around all day.”

The tone in her voice went serious. “But that is me. I do sit and mope. I cry myself to sleep at night and I hold grudges that’ll stick with me until the day I die. I am that person. I am weak.”

“No you’re not and quit telling yourself you are. A weak person doesn’t fight like you do. You wake up everyday and you fight through the day, trying to win. And some days you lose, but you tried. A weak person doesn’t try like you do.”

Her black eyes watered up, but she refused to let the tears fall, so they stayed in her eyes, blurring her vision. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don’t you just turn me in, get the throne? Why are you like this? Why are you nice to me? I’m practically blackmailing you so why are you nice to me?”

“A lot of reasons, Caterina. But the main one is I see myself in you, and when I was like you, I would’ve wanted a me.”

She didn’t hold back the tears anymore. When the flood ran down her cheeks, Thomas ran from the chair to the edge of the bed next to Caterina. As she cried into his shoulder, he petted the top of her head, letting out comforting hushes as he gently rocked her. “I don’t deserve you,” she mumbled through cries. “I really don’t.”