#is panicking in the backseat along with steven

[hai-nae]

astral projection thoughts for mcu mk from awhile ago

[tuffduff]

More Than Okay (Izzy Stradlin x Reader)

Pairing: Izzy Stradlin x Reader

Words: 1,537

Request: @that-80s-chick​ :Hi I was wondering if you could please write something with Izzy Stradlin where maybe he’s self conscious about himself (maybe his nose idk) and he doesn’t think he’s good enough for you but you assure him that he’s perfect and you love him just the way he is 😊 also I love your writing so much!!

A/N: Thank you for requesting love!! As Elton John once said, the bitch is back. Hello friends, if you write you know inspiration strikes at random. I’m so happy I could get this out to you guys because I really loved the prompt and Izzy is just such a cutie. Sorry for the long wait for this one, I really do appreciate every request y’all send and I’m working on others now. 🖤🖤🖤

Taglist: @ubernoxa​ @the--blackdahlia​ @reigns420​ @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker​ 🤍

“Izzy, c’mon, what’s the deal, man? We’re gonna be late.” Axl called from where you stood next to him by the front door of the band’s shared apartment. You were there because, well, when were you not by their side? But also, your extra car came in handy.

“I’m coming, alright? Chill.” Izzy replied, coming from around the corner with his head down. “Since when do you care about being late, anyways?”

“We’ve got a lot of shit to do today.” Axl retorted back. You figured the general crabbiness had something to do with the fact that it was 9 am.

“How many photoshoots have we done anyways; don’t they have enough shit of us...” you heard Izzy mutter. You waited for him to follow behind Axl but he gestured for you to go first, still keeping his head down low and not even looking at you. That wasn’t normal, but you decided not to make too much of an observation about it.

“Alright, who’s riding with me and who’s riding with Duff?” You asked, now standing with all of them outside.

“I call shotgun with Duff!” Slash declared. Steven hit his arm and latched onto Slash as he jetted towards Duff’s vehicle, getting dragged all the way.

“No, hey—you got shotgun last time!” Steven whined, the both of them now shoving at each other outside the passenger door.

“Get in the back, Steven,” Axl ordered, already opening the back door to Duff’s car. Steven was still whining while Slash triumphantly grinned and took his spot. “Sorry, Izzy, we’re all full over here.” Axl said, glancing at Izzy who was trailing behind him.

“Uh, guys? I’ve got a whole car.” You pointed out.

“I’d rather ride with you.” Duff said, his eyes locked on Slash swatting at Steven in the backseat. “Hey, Izzy, I thought you said you were riding with Y/N?” You sent Duff a look. He was the only one in the group that had picked up on your fondness for the rhythm guitarist and would often subtly try and get the two of you together.

For some reason, Izzy froze and appeared almost panicked. “No, I didn’t.” He argued. Ouch. It felt like a piece of your heart shattered, along with your self-esteem.

“C’mon, you’re gonna hurt her feelings.” Duff insisted. Now, he abandoned Duff’s car and almost reluctantly walked over to yours. You frowned quizzically at him when he reached for the back door.

“You know I don’t bite, right?” You joked lightly. He hesitated and ducked his head low again.

“I just, uh, like the extra room.” He replied, but climbed in next to you in the front.

Izzy continued to remain silent once you got on the road behind Duff. It was completely and entirely out of the norm; Izzy always preferred being around you, even out of all of his bandmates. At restaurants, he’d sit next to you. Watching movies together, he’d be next to you on the couch, or even on the floor. He’d share lyrics he had written with you, or a drink of his coke. Sometimes, you’d find him at your door when he wanted to get away from the band.

Yet now, you were getting a cold shoulder out of left field. The longer the silence grew, the more you felt crushed by Izzy’s apparent disdain at being stuck with you. With every mile, you glanced over at him, hoping for some kind of spark of conversation, but he remained glued to the window.

“You can pick what we listen to,” you tried offering cheerfully. Izzy didn’t move. You wondered if he even heard you before realizing you could have heard a pen drop in the stony silence between you. No, he was practically ignoring you.

“No, it’s cool.” He muttered. You adjusted your grip on the steering wheel uncomfortably.

“Izzy, is everything alright?” You finally asked at the next stoplight, turning to stare at him. He repositioned himself in the seat, as though he were uncomfortable with your gaze. “Can you maybe act like I exist?” You caught the sight of a frown on his face.

“Everything’s fine, Y/N.” He replied, his voice strained. “Really.”

“You’re lying.”

“The light’s green.” The car honking behind you confirmed just as much. You turned back forward, the obvious tension in the air unsettling you to no end.

When you pulled up the photoshoot location, a brick building downtown, you turned to Izzy determinedly.

“I’m sorry if...maybe did something to upset you. I just hope you know I’m here if you need someone to talk to.” You told him, trying not to allow your own hurt to leak into your voice.

“What? No, no, Y/N...” Izzy said quickly, his voice softening immediately. The shift in his demeanor made you feel a little better and now you waited patiently as he sighed and leaned his head back against the seat. “It’s just...these photoshoots, you know? I hate ‘em.”

“Well, I can understand that.” You soothed, your heart pounding as you considered your next words. “But I mean, I’m sure you make it easy on these photographers.” He glanced over at you in confusion.

“What do you mean?” You felt your face growing hot and you were already regretting the path you steered the conversation.

“Just that...well, I mean, look at you.” He snorted a little at your words and pulled down the mirror on the visor.

“Yeah, fucking tell me about it.” He muttered quietly, before proceeding to pull more of his hair over his eyes and face. “I just feel uncomfortable the whole time. It’s easy for Axl or the other guys, but...”

“Why do you feel uncomfortable?” Izzy’s eyes flashed at your question and had him once again turning to stare out the window.

“It’s dumb. I just remember the last time we did one of these and looking at the pictures afterwards and noticing, just, how much I hate my nose, and just, the expressions I make…”

“What?” You demanded.

“…and having your here today makes things worse...”

“Worse?” You asked, now almost growing offended.

“Well, yeah, because now you’re gonna be there and watching and I already feel uncomfortable as it is, but having you there in front of me...”

“But I think you’re perfect.” You blurted out before you could catch yourself. Izzy whipped his head towards you and it was now your turn to avoid his gaze and study the fabric of your jeans instead. After a long moment, you heard him scoff. Instantly your stomach dropped and you waited for the rejection.

“Are you...was that a joke?” He asked.

“No.” You said, feeling your eyebrows pull together as you looked up. For the first time the whole car ride, the both of you shared the same gaze, unguarded and vulnerable. “I mean, I do think that. I don’t think there’s a single thing wrong with you.” Izzy continued to stare at you for a long moment, unmoving and just blinking, lost in thought.

“I thought Duff was joking.” You felt your mouth drop.

“He told?” Izzy chuckled a little.

“All this time I thought there was no way you could be interested in me.” Summoning up just about every last bit of your courage, you reached out to brush the back of your fingers against his cheek, swiping the hair from his eyes. He even let you tuck some of the strands behind his ears.

“I’ve always been very interested in you.” You murmured, smiling. “I really care about you Izzy, and I mean it. I love everything about you.”

“I love you.” Izzy blurted out, taking you by surprise. A gentle blush colored his cheeks and his eyes grew wide. “Shit—I mean, I meant to say I-I love everything about you too...”

“Well, now that you said it first, I’m pretty sure I love you too.” you teased him, making him chuckle. Izzy reached his hand up to grab the hand you still had resting against his cheek and hold in his own. He pressed his lips against your fingers, but the moment was interrupted at the sound of knocking on your window. The rest of the band was peering in.

“Aww! Yes!” Steven cooed, making a heart with his hands together.

“Did you tell him?” Duff asked, sounding like a nosy mom more than ever.

“Are you guys about to fuck?” Slash asked even more obnoxiously, peering into the car. You threw open the door, causing them all to stumble backwards and Izzy to laugh.

“Yes, and no.” You said, sending a look to Slash in particular.

“Yeah, of course not; they’re just gonna do it ten minutes from now in the bathroom.” Axl teased. You rolled your eyes and shook your head as they began laughing and felt an arm go around your shoulder as Izzy came up beside you.

“You guys never know when to shut up.” He told his bandmates, before looking down at you as if to check. His eyes, now clearly visible, were asking you silently, is this okay? You grinned up at him and kissed his cheek before you snuck your arm behind his back to confirm, yes. It was more than okay.

[txylorwrjtes]

(1.5) Bloody Mary: Part one

“Urban Legends”

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warning(s): Angst

Summary: Y/N and the brothers investigate what seems to be the legend of “Bloody Mary” come to life. The brothers learn that Y/N is hiding a little more to them than what they’ve already learned.

Word count: 4,178

Previous post || Supernatural rewrite S01 masterlist

While likes are appreciated, feedback is what keeps me writing.

It was morning time, the sun peaked through the glass windows and into the solarium of the Halliwell manor. You sat cross legged on the floor with the little boy you adored, Wyatt as you both played with his little toy trucks and army men, while Chris sat in his play pen, holding onto the stuffed bear you had gifted to him on his very first birthday.

You let out a small laugh as Wyatt pretended to make his army man shoot yours, and you let it fall to the ground as if it were really dead. The two of you were having a good time, but as your stomach was beginning to growl, you knew it was time to eat some breakfast.

“I’m hungry, kiddo.” You told him, reaching your hand out to ruffle up his hair a bit. “How about you? Would you like some cereal?” Wyatt didn’t say anything, he just nodded his head to answer your question. “Alright, I’ll take that as an answer this time, but next time, you need to use your words.” You said in a playful tone of voice. You gave him a smile, leaning over and pressed a kiss to his head before pushing yourself up to your feet.

You were making your way to the kitchen, but you found yourself stopping in your tracks when you heard a familiar voice. “Oh, Y/N, I’d love to have some cereal.” You held your breath as your body tensed up in a panic. The voice you were hearing was full of pure hatred and it was directed to you. You nervously gulped as you turned on your heels to see who you were suspecting all along. It was Wyatt and Chris’ future selves, but they weren’t the sweet and innocent boys you knew and loved, they were evil. Both of them had longer hair, and were wearing black clothes while their expressions were turned to an angered one. “Who are you to tell me what to do?”

“Wyatt..” You spoke his name in a soft tone of voice, as your eyes trailed over to his little brother, who was now inching closer.

“That’s right, Y/N.” Chris said, “It’s us and we’re evil now, all thanks to you leaving us behind after our family died.”

“You have no idea the damage that did to us as we grew up,” Wyatt practically spit out his words, his tone hardened. “Grandpa was a complete wreck, he wasn’t able to protect us from the demons who got to us. Not like you would’ve been able to. You should’ve been there, Y/N, you should’ve stayed!”

“I-I’m sorry.” You stuttered out those words, but Wyatt wasn’t having that.

“You said that so many times before, but if you were sorry, you would’ve come back!” His voice rose at you, you opened your mouth to say you were sorry again, that you were sorry for everything, but both of the boys weren’t going to let that happen as fireballs formed in their hands.

~~~

You let out a terrified gasp and bolted awake when you felt someone shake you back to a conscious state. “Sweetheart, wake up!” Dean shouted at you, a worried expression was etched along his face when your eyes met his.

You began controlling your breathing as you looked around at your surroundings, trying to figure out where you were before you looked back at your boyfriend. "I take it I was having a nightmare?” You asked, although you already knew the answer.

“Yeah, another one.” Dean said, dropping himself back into his seat and focusing on the neighborhood that he parked in for the next case all of you would be working on. “First, Sam’s having nightmares about Jessica and now you?”

“Hey, at least I got some sleep.” Sam tried to tell his brother after what he pointed out, you realized he had woken up from a nightmare of his own..

“Yeah, you know, sooner or later, we’re gonna talk about these nightmares you both keep having.” Dean said, but you just ignored his comment, focusing your attention on something else.

“Are we here?” You asked, turning your head around to look at the police station behind you.

“Yup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio.” Dean said, focusing his attention on a pad of papers that he was writing on.

Sam picked up the newspaper full of obituaries, looking at the one of Steven Shoemaker. Steven’s cause of the death was a stroke, but the death seemed a bit suspicious, as his eyes seemed to have exploded. “So, what do you think really happened to this guy?” Sam questioned, reading the small biography on the man.

“That’s what we’re gonna find out.” Dean explained, leaning into the backseat and throwing down his belongings next to you before sitting back normally in his seat. “Let’s go.” He order, opening up the front door and stepping outside. You and Sam followed behind, him into the building and headed down a long hallway until you camp up to a door that had a black sign above it, letting you all know it was the morgue.

You stepped inside first, examining the place see it was filled with empty office desks until you saw a bald man dressed in scrubs sitting at a desk, reading what looked to be a very large book. Dean smiled at the man as they greeted each, he looked up from his book and gave all of you glances.

“Can I help you?” He asked, lifting his head up from the palm of his hand.

You looked over at the boys, hoping they could come up with a lie on the spot. Sam had a slight panicked look, but Dean was quick to speak. “Yeah, we’re the…med students.” He said, nodding his head.

“Sorry?” The man asked, dropping his arm to the desk.

“Oh, Doctor Fliglavitch didn’t tell you?” Dean asked, pointing at the desk that you passed earlier. “We talked to him on the phone. We’re from Ohio State. He’s supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It’s for our paper.”

But the man wasn’t buying it, he polity smiled. “Well, I’m sorry, he’s at lunch.” He explained, looking at the three of you with suspicion.

You turned your head to look at Dean, wondering what he was going to say next. He looked at you and Sam, as if you were going to jump in, but you didn’t dare to speak. “Well, he said, uh…” He turned to look at the man again and smiled. “Oh, well, you know, it doesn’t matter. You don’t mind showing ups the body, do you?”

“Sorry, I can’t.” The man simply said. “Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him, if you want.”

“An hour?” Dean pretend to think about it as he looked at you and Sam. “We got to be heading back to Columbus by then.” He turned his head and gave the guy a pleading look. “Look man, this paper’s like half our grade, so if you don’t mind helping us out?”

“Oh, look man. No.” The man said, giving Dean a blank stare.

Dean sarcastically smiled, turning around as he mumbled underneath his breath. “I’m gonna hit him in his face, I swear."

Sam stepped in front of his brother and smiled at the man as he took out his wallet. You watched as he pulled out a hundred dollars in twenties and threw it down on the desk. The man was a bit taken back by Sam’s actions, but he picked it up and grinned at three of you. "Follow me.” He ordered, getting up from his seat and heading to the morgue.

As Sam stepped forward to follow the man, Dean grabbed him by his jacket sleeve, yanking him back and turning him around to face the two of you. “Dude, I earned that money.” Dean argued in a whispered tone. Sam just scoffed.

“You won it in a poker game.” Sam reminded his older brother, rolling his eyes as Dean looked at him like it meant something special to him.

You all headed back, seeing that the man had rubber gloves and a white apron on and had pulled out the body, which had a white sheet placed on top of it.

“Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding.” Sam said, looking down at the man and then the body.

“More than that.” He explained, lifting off the sheet so all of you could see the body. “They practically liquified.” You couldn’t help but lean over slightly to examine.

“Any sign of struggle, maybe somebody did it to him?” Dean asked, turning his attention to focus on the corner after staring at the body for a long period of time.

“Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone.” He explained.

“What’s the official cause of death?” You asked, taking your gaze away from the body.

The corner shrugged. “Doc’s not sure. He’s thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm.” He looked down at the body, cracking a joke. “Something burst up in there, that’s for sure.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, giving the corner a curious look.

“Intense cerebral bleeding.” The corner explained, looking at the three of you before glancing down at the body. “This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“But the eyes? What would cause something like that?” Sam wondered, you couldn’t help but stare down at the body again.

“Capillaries can burst. I see a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims.” The corner went on, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah, you ever see exploding eyeballs?” Dean asked, looking up from the body and at the corner again.

“That’s a first for me.” The corner admitted, smiling as he looked up at the three of you. “But, hey, I’m not the doctor.”

“Do you think we could take a look at that police report?” you asked. “You know, for our paper?”

The corner looked at you with a sly smirk. “I’m not really supposed to show you that.” He pondered on the thought, his eyes dropping to Sam. The youngest Winchester rolled his eyes, shoving a hand inside his pocket and pulled out his wallet to pay the man again.

~~~

After looking around at the information, the three of you headed back out to the staircase. You didn’t know if this was just a freak accident, or if it was something more.

“Might not be one of ours.” Sam pondered on the thought, walking in sync with his brother downstairs. “Might just be some freak medical thing.”

“How many times in Dad’s long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?” Dean asked.

Sam sighed, turning around to take another staircase. “Uh, almost never.” He admitted.

“Exactly.” Dean said, turning to look at his brother with a smirk. You rolled your eyes, squeezing in between the brothers and looked at both of them. “Let’s go talk to the daughter next, I have a feeling she might know more.”

~~~

When you arrived at the Shoemaker household, you stepped inside the front door that was wide open. Your eyes gazed around the home to see a handful of people spread around the place, dressed in black clothing and handkerchiefs in their hands to dry their eyes. You politely smiled at faces that gave you either curious looks or glares. You heard Dean make a comment, just staring at the people dressed in black formal clothing.

You shoved your hands inside your pockets and followed behind through the home until you made your way into the backyard. The three of you approached a group of four girls, you noticed the daughters were sitting next to one another, being comforted by their friends.

“You must be Donna, right?” Dean politely asked, looking down at the girl with the short hair.

“Yeah.” She answered, looking at him.

“Hi, uh, we’re really sorry.” Sam spoke up. “I’m Sam, this is Dean, and that’s his girlfriend, Y/N. We worked with your dad.”

Donna turned her head to the left to look at her friend, a look of confusion spread across her face when she glanced back at Sam. “You did?” She asked in a shocked tone.

“Yeah, this whole thing.” Dean said, shaking his head. “I mean, a stroke.”

“I don’t think she wants to talk about this right now.” Her friend spoke up, giving Dean a dirty look.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” Donna mumbled, turning head to look at her friend.

Dean decided to speak up again. “Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?” He asked, Donna shook her head no.

That’s when her little sister turned around and looked at Donna. “That’s because it wasn’t a stroke.” She admitted, you turned your attention onto her, wondering what she was talking about.

“Lily, don’t say that.” Donna whispered.

“What?” You couldn’t help but ask.

Donna looked at you and politely smiled, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, she’s just upset.”

“It happened because of me.” Lily kept going on, trying to blame herself.

“Sweetie, don’t say that.” Donna whispered, looking down at her sister with a soft expression.

You walked over and bent down so you were at eye level with the youngest Shoemaker. “Lily, why would you say something like that?” You asked.

She looked down at her feet and sighed. “Right before he died, I said it.” She admitted, looking at you.

“You said what?” You questioned, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror. She took his eyes, that’s what she does.” She explained, you glanced over your shoulder to see the brothers had a grim look spread across their faces. They didn’t seem to be buying the story, and neither was Donna. You didn’t know what to think, you’ve heard of Bloody Mary before and all of the things you’ve seen had you believing in the legend, but this wasn’t how it went.

“That’s not why Dad died. This isn’t your fault.” Donna cut in, she grabbed her sister’s hand and softly squeezed it.

“I think your sister’s right, Lily.” You said. “There’s no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn’t say it, did he?”

She glanced down at the ground before looking at you. “No, I don’t think so.” She said.

You got back up and smiled at the four girls, excusing yourselves to leave them be. The three of you walked back into the house and snuck upstairs to take a look at the bathroom where Steven died. You followed behind Sam and Dean as they approached a closed door and stopped. Sam slowly opened it, seeing that it lead to the bathroom, you glanced down at the floor and winced at when you saw that blood stains were left on the tiled floor.

“The Bloody Mary legend.” Sam said, eyes glancing around the bathroom. “Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?”

Dean shook his head. “Not that I know of.” He said, stepping inside the room and turning on the light.

Sam bent down and ran his fingers over the blood stains. “I mean, everywhere else, all over the country, kids have played Blood Mary.” He said, now standing up and heading inside. “And as far as we know, nobody dies from it.”

“Yeah, well, maybe everywhere it’s just a story, but here it’s actually happening here.” Dean said, turning around so he could look at you.

“Do you think this is the place where the legend began?” You asked, watching as Dean stepped to the mirror and opened it up, to take a peek at the medicine cabinet. “But according to the legend, the person who says-” You noticed the mirror was pointing at you, so you slammed it shut in case this were true and continued. “The person who says ‘You Know What’ gets it, but here?”

“Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah. Never heard anything like that one before. ” He said, looking at you as you nodded your head. “Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror. And the daughter’s right. The way the legend goes,” Dean’s eyes glanced at the mirror before looking back at you and Sam. “'You Know Who’ scratches your eyes out.”

“It’s still worth checking into.” Sam thought out loud, looking at the two of you for an answer.

Suddenly you heard footsteps echo off the wooden floors outside in the hall, you all gave each other panicked looks as Sam dashed to see who it was, he stopped at the doorway when he saw it was the friend from earlier. She stopped and placed a hand on the wall.

“What are you doing up here?” She asked, looking at the three of you with suspicion.

You looked at the boys, hoping they could make up a story. “We…” Dean looked at his brother for a second before turning his attention on the girl. “We had to go to the bathroom.”

“Who are you?” She pressed, looking at Dean.

“Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna’s Dad.” Dean explained, taking a quick glance at the two of you.

“He was a day trader or something, he worked by himself.” She said.

“No, I know, I meant…” Dean tried to make up another lie, stuttering out an excuse, but he wasn’t quick enough.

“And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that?” She asked as a smile spread across her lips when all of you stood quiet. “So you tell me what’s going on or I start screaming.”

You rolled your eyes at her threat. “All right. All right.” You said, throwing up a hand so Dean couldn’t say something stupid. “We think something happened to Donna’s dad.”

“Yeah, a stroke.” She snapped, you clenched your jaw.

“You might want to open up a medical book sometime, Blondie. That’s not the sign of a typical stroke. We think it might be something else.” You said, giving her a glare.

“Like what?” She asked, her eyes jumping to the bathroom floor before looking back at Sam.

“Honestly, we don’t know yet.” Sam explained. “But we don’t want it to happen again to anyone else. That’s the truth.”

“So if you’re gonna scream, go right ahead.” Dean said, nodding his head at her.

She was quiet for a few moments, rethinking her decisions. “Who are you, cops?” She questioned.

The three of you looked at one another. “Something like that.” You said, shrugging your shoulders.

“Tell you what, here.” Sam dug inside his pocket, pulling out a pen and piece of paper to scribble something down. “If you think of anything, you and your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary, just give us a call.”

Sam handed her the piece of paper as he walked by, you and Dean followed, leaving her alone to stare at the piece of paper.

~~~

“All right, say Bloody Mary is really haunting this town. There’s gonna be some sort of proof, right?” Dean asked, heading inside the local library as you and Sam followed. “A local woman who died nasty.”

“Yeah, but a legend this widespread, it’s hard.” Sam theorized. “I mean, there’s like fifty different versions of who is actually is. Once story says she’s a witch, another say’s she’s a mutilated bride. There’s a lot more.”

“So what are we supposed to be looking for?” Dean asked.

“Well, every version’s got a few things in common.” You spoke up, walking faster so you could stand next to Dean on his left side. “It’s always a woman named Mary and she always dies in front of a mirror.”

“So we’ve got to search local newspapers, public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary that fits the bill.” Sam said, stopping when you all got into the room where the computers and shelves of different books surrounded you.

“Well, that sounds annoying.” Dean remarked, looking around at the place.

“No, It won’t be so bad, as long as we…” Sam turned his head and frowned when he noticed all of the computers that were lined up had a white piece of paper that had OUT OF ORDER written on it. “Ha, I take it back. This will be very annoying.”

~~~

After finding enough materials, the three of you headed back to the motel to do some research. You started reading as soon as you sat down on the bed while Dean sat at the table. Sam laid on the bed closest to the door and shut his eyes for a few moments before he was passed out.

Halfway through the book, you let out a yawn. You tried your hardest to keep your eyes open for just a bit longer, but you couldn’t do it. You hadn’t been getting enough sleep the past few weeks, so it was no wonder you were tired. You put the book down right next to you and told Dean that you were going to take a ten minute nap, which he was fine with. But it turned into an hour.

So now he was left to do all the research by himself. Not that he minded, it was nice to see that you were finally getting some sleep. You looked so peaceful to him.. so gorgeous. Both you and Sam’s nightmares were getting out of control and when you had them, you and Sam could never wake up. Dean would spend five or so minutes trying to get either one of you back to consciousness again and the both of you would eventually wake up. But you, you always looked drained, as if the nightmares you were having always took a mental toll on you.

Dean glanced over to see that his brother had woken up when he heard the sound of gasping. His breathing was heavy as he tried to bring himself back to a normal state.

Why’d you let me fall asleep?“ Sam whispered, looking up at the ceiling.

"Cause I’m an awesome brother.” Dean muttered, looking over at Sam. “So, what did you dream about?”

“Lollipops and candy canes.” Sam sarcastically replied, turning his head to look at Dean. He just rolled his eyes. “You find anything?”

“Oh, besides a whole new level of frustration? No.” Dean said, slamming his book in annoyance. “I looked at everything. A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine, committed suicide in front of a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave. But, uh…no Mary.”

Sam sighed to himself, throwing himself back onto the pillow as he pondered. “Maybe we just haven’t found it yet.."

"I’ve been searching for strange deaths in the area, you know, eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There’s nothing.” Dean admitted. “Whatever’s happening here, maybe it just ain’t Mary.”

Before Sam could respond, his phone began to ring. He picked it up and looked down to see who was calling, but it was an unknown number. He answered anyway, pressing the phone against his ear and said hello.

You woke up at the noise, your eyes slowly fluttered open and you looked around the room to see that Sam was awake now, talking to someone on the phone as Dean was still in the same spot. You inhaled a deep breath as you sat up and brought your knees up to your chest as you wrapped your arms around them to hold them into place. You found yourself gazing at the wall on the other side of the room, your heart was feeling heavy inside of your chest as you thought about the nightmare you had again, the same one you had this morning before going into the morgue.

“Morning, sweetheart.“ Dean said after noticing you were now awake as he grabbed another book and flipped it open. He started to read over it, but when you didn’t respond, he looked back over at you to see that you were in some sort of trance, the expression on your face had fallen into a look of heartache. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

It took a minute until you finally looked back at Dean and noticed that he was giving you a look of concern. “Yeah.” You lied to him, bringing yourself back into reality as you apologized when you realized he did all of the work. "I’m sorry. You should have woken me up.”

He shook his head. “No, sweetheart, it’s fine. You needed the sleep."

You nodded your head, before looking at Sam as he got off the phone, he had a shocked expression, leaving you and Dean worried. "That was Charlie, Donna’s friend from earlier.” He explained. “Someone else died.”

~~~

You sat on the bench at the park next to Charlie as she cried, trying to explain how her friend passed away. “And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her- her eyes…they were gone.” She sniffed, looking at the three of you.

“I’m sorry.” Sam apologized.

“And she said it. I heard her say it.” Charlie admitted, the three of you looked at one another. “But it couldn’t be because of that. I’m insane, right?” She wanted reassurance from all of you, but you could only let out a sigh.

“No, you’re not insane.” You said, looking down at her.

“God, that makes me feel so much worse.” She mumbled as she looked down at the ground.

“Look,” Sam began, giving Charlie a look of sympathy. “We think something might be happening here, something that can’t be explained.”

“And we’re gonna stop it.” Dean interrupted, glancing at Charlie. “But we could use your help.”

~~~

Next part

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[kazosa]

Second Chances - Jeff x Reader: Chapter 16

Summary: Reader and Jeff work a project and become fast friends. The project ends and they go their separate ways, neither forgetting the other. With Hollywood being a small community, you two bump into one another either at events or projects, but there is always something keeping you apart. Will the obstacles ever end? Chapter 16 Summary: Reader and Jeff are working, but not together. Getting used to being “official” has been a little bumpy Warnings: language (as usual), angsty A/N: Please leave comments or let me know if you want to be tagged, etc Feedback is always welcome (it feeds the writing beast!) Word count: 2500(ish) Catch up here: Masterlist Tags: @jml509  @jasoncrouse  @yellatthetopofyourlungs  @bookchic20  @prettyepiic  @rizflo-blog  @curious-sub7  @backseat-negan  @warriorqueen1991

     As soon as “Hack” ended, you and Jeff did NOT go on a trip to visit his mom, instead, he began working on a movie called “Dead and Breakfast” at the beginning of the year. Jeff’s role wasn’t particularly big in the movie and you thought he may have finally seen the light about Marne. Thankfully, she did the hard part for him and retired a month after she got him the job.      Jeff was the kind of guy that wouldn’t tell you if something was bothering him. You thought he did it to spare you any worry. Who did he think he was kidding, anyway? Both of you had gotten so good at reading the other, sometimes you almost didn’t need to speak. You weren’t quite sure what it was that had crawled under his skin, but whatever it was had burrowed in. He’d been more than a little edgy the last two times he’d called. Unfortunately, while Jeff was working on “Dead and Breakfast,” you had to make a tough phone call to him.      “Jeff, I got a job,” you said, less than enthusiastic.      “Uh, that’s a good thing, quick, too. Why don’t you sound happy?” he asked.      Why is breaking bad news so much harder than good news? “It’s not in California. It’s kinda far away.”      “What, like New York or something?” he asked.      Ugh, he sounded busy… “No, it’s mostly going to be in Auckland, New Zealand,” you blurted out.      “Jesus Christ, (Y|N), are you fucking serious?” you’d definitely shocked him. “When does it start!?”      “Next week,” you mumbled.      “Did you just fucking say ‘next week’?!”      It was hard to tell if he was mad or not, he’d never directed any anger at you before.      “Jeff, I know it’s not the greatest timing, but we could use the money,” you tried to keep your tone even.      There was a long awkward pause between the two of you. Marne had just retired and he had been feeling the pressure. Money was a little tight for him and it was only going to get tighter if you didn’t pick up a job, too. You could hear him let out a heavy sigh.      “Are you going to come up before you leave?” he asked.      Jeff was filming up near San Jose. The drive alone would take at least 5 hours, if not more. Of course, you wanted to go, but you hadn’t talked to production yet to see if they could get your flight out of Sacramento instead of LA.      “I want to, I really do. I have to talk to Mr. Rami to see if I can leave from up there. They only just called me a little bit before I called you,” you told him. Why did you feel so guilty? “Do you WANT me to come up?”      Your relationship had gotten hard since you moved in with Jeff. It wasn’t a difficult move for you, but it was a big change to your usual nomadic life. Your show had finished and you uprooted your little life from Philly and moved it completely to LA. You sold your POS Blazer, returned the motorcycle to the place from where you were renting, and packed up your meager belongings. The furniture that was in your apartment came with the place. Your life had fit into a grand total of 10 large boxes and all of it had been shipped to LA. You were happy to be there, you loved Jeff, he still made you happy and you were always excited to see him and his goofy ways made you smile. You didn’t want to think he regretted having you move in, but there was definitely something about you being there that was upsetting for him.      You heard him sigh loudly, again. “Maybe you should just stay there.”      Never had such simple words cut so deeply. Your stomach gave an odd lurch and you were immediately nauseated, your stomach churning out the acid. Your heart was pounding out of your neck. He’d never not wanted to be near you before. You couldn’t stay away from each other, you never could, it had always been like that for you. Now, “officially” his live-in girlfriend, it had only taken a month and a half for him to want to kick you out, you were sure of it. Your mind went to your ten boxes and how quickly you could fill them and be out of his house.

Auckland, New Zealand      “What the hell am I doing?” you called over your shoulder at the director.      “You’re going to run to the right and once you get inside, you give the speech to ‘Kate’,” he told you.      You weren’t sure how they’d wrangled you into it, but they got you in front of the camera. He called action and you all took off to the right and went inside the set where the second crew was waiting to get the reaction shot and speech, at the end of which, you had to make a horrible face because the ‘boogeyman’ killed you.      “Cut! Print that one!” you heard Steven call out.      You got up off the floor where you had died and grinned like a fool. That was fun, a lot of fun.      “Alright, that’s a wrap for you, (Y|N),” Steve came over to tell you and walked you back outside. “That was good. Thanks for doing that, it really helped us out. You seriously never acted before?”      “Nah,” you said, “I was always too scared. But I watched other actors and read lines with them.”      He clapped you on the shoulder. “Well, that was good. Now go get cleaned up and come back. The PAs are running wild without you.” He smiled and pointed at Tyler, your newest, wet-behind-the-ears PA.      “Shit,” you said. He was carrying way too much equipment and about to lose it all in the mud. “Tyler, hold up!” you dashed over to him. “Dude, we have a hand cart special for carrying stuff like this, even in the mud.” You took some of the lighting cords from him, “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

     After helping Tyler, you needed to not only get the makeup off, you also needed to get out of the mud covered wardrobe. When Emily Deschanel, the lead actress, had seen you, she insisted you use her shower. The folks in the wardrobe trailer were not happy about the state in which they were returned, but no one else was going to wear them so they let you off the hook. A half hour later, you were back on set and ready to work, your trusty binder in hand.      You and that binder had been through a lot. Your dad had given it to you when you started your senior year of high school. You kept all of the production notes in it as well as a personal journal of significant events and learning experiences. There was a lull in the shoot and you weren’t needed immediately, so you found a chair to sit in and opened the binder to the letter you were writing to Jeff.      ‘Out in the boonies’ was a phrase that came to mind when you needed to describe this location. Cell service was virtually nonexistent. Your phone call with Jeff before you left for New Zealand hadn’t exactly ended very well. He was upset about something and wouldn’t say what it was. He told you to stay in LA and you thought for sure that he was going to ask you to pack up as soon as you got back. It had left you with a nearly constant upset stomach if you were left to think about it too long. Your star necklace was in its usual spot and you touched it thinking of his amazing smile, hoping that you hadn’t ruined anything with him.      “You okay?” a voice next to you asked.      “Huh?” you looked over to your right, it was Kripke, the screenwriter. “Oh, sorta. I didn’t leave things so great with my boyfriend when I left to come down here. Not sure I’ll still have a boyfriend when I get back.”      “That’s not good. Do you love him?” he asked.      You nodded, “Yeah, I do. Being with him is the best thing that ever happened to me.”      “What’s he like?” he wanted to know. “Short and nerdy?”      That made you chuckle. “Ha, no, not short.”      “Ah, TALL and nerdy,” he smiled.      “He’s tall, dark hair and eyes. He has a beard now for a movie and he’s got this little patch of gray hair on his chin. He’s a big guy, about 6’3”, he’s thick, but not fat. He’s a big goofball, everyone loves him, he takes care of me, always makes sure I’m okay. He loves his dog, his bike and me…” you were smiling, but it faded thinking of how you left Jeff. “Well, maybe not me anymore.”      You and Kripke hadn’t gotten especially close, but he was one of the people you looked after and in the last month and a half, you’d gotten to know each other a little bit. When you’re on a production set, the friendships come fast or they don’t at all, sometimes there’s a slow and steady build-up but not often. You and Kripke got along well and you had an easy repartee. Having gone through so much with your family, you’d learned to be careful about how much you gave away of your personal life, it just wasn’t something you liked to talk about. Hell, you still hadn’t even told Jeff everything, and he knew you better than anyone.      “If you don’t mind my asking, what happened?” he was curious.      You took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I guess I panicked. I upset him by getting this job and going so far away. I also told him that his manager wasn’t doing him any favors. She kept sending him shit scripts. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great actor, but he deserves better. I think he also felt bad because I’d just moved in and he couldn’t take care of me as well as he wanted to. Men.”      “So, you know you both over-reacted?”      You nodded.      “Have you tried calling him at all? It’s been over a month since we got here. We’ll probably be here another month, (Y|N),” he said.      You nodded again. “I left a message when he was still on the movie and one since he got home a few weeks ago. I haven’t heard anything from him.”      You could feel Kripke studying you. A year. A year where you never went a day without talking to the other. It was now coming up on 6 weeks of not a word spoken. Your heart ached all the time. Tums was sending you thank-you notes for their bump in sales. Kripke made a little grunt sound, you felt a little bad for laying that all on him, but he was the one that asked.      “Call him, every day. Leave messages, tell him where to call. Guys are stubborn. You love him, right? Fight for that,” he said. He picked up his laptop and was about to leave, but he needed to say one more thing, “Call him now. Don’t wait.”      There was a phone in the room. Funny how something so small and insignificant can scare the hell out of you. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you needed to say, but there was really only one question you needed answered.      You got out your phone card and picked up the phone. It took forever to dial, punching in all of those numbers, but it finally started ringing. You had no idea what the time difference was, he could be anywhere, or sleeping, or with someone else.

Los Angeles

     It had been weeks since he’d talked to her. He hadn’t meant to be a dick when she let him know about her job, but everything came out all wrong. Somewhat impulsively, he’d asked her to move in with him. It was, really, the right thing to do, he didn’t like the thought of her not living with him when she wasn’t working. He just hadn’t considered the financial aspect of a second person living with him again. Later on, of course, he realized that she was paying for things on her own, and that made him feel even worse.      He had been stressed out about it when he spoke with her and didn’t know that she was paying for the household bills while he was away. She was going to be going to fucking New Zealand to do a movie. For him, it just highlighted the fact that he wasn’t working enough to support himself, let alone (Y|N), too. The thought of spending more money made him reconsider her visiting set before she left. He knew he’d hurt her feelings, but he thought it would be best.      She only called him one more time after that call to set, and to say it was a chilly call would be generous. She had told him that in New Zealand, cell service would be minimal and it would cost a fortune to call the States, so she probably wouldn’t call much. She had the house all taken care of and would be leaving the next day. She didn’t say ‘I love you’ and neither did he and he’d been kicking himself ever since. He’d missed at least one call from her and she hadn’t left a call back number because they were moving around a lot. He called her cell once, but it went straight to her voicemail.

     His film shoot had ended a month after you left for New Zealand and he would have been glad to be home, except you weren’t there. He’d thrown his bag in the laundry room and left it there. Bisou was running around checking all of the rooms and she came back to stare at him. When he didn’t say anything, Bisou barked at him.      “She’s not here, baby, she’s working,” he muttered.      Bisou let out a low ‘woof.’      “I know,” he said.      That had been weeks ago. Now he and Bisou were sitting on the patio. Jeff had a whisky and Bisou had a bone. The script he had brought out sat on the table untouched. At first, he wasn’t sure the sound he was hearing was the buzz in his ears, cicadas or the phone. In the off chance that it was the phone, he slowly got up and went to the door to confirm his guess. The tell-tale chime said he was right. He opened the door and went inside to the phone just around the corner.      He looked at the caller ID and didn’t recognize the number. It finally dawned on him that it was an international number.      He snatched up the receiver, “Hello?”      “Jeff?”

[the-plxce-to-be-archived-blog]

It was a surprise when Eleanor left Henry. He was abusive. He was horrible. He was violent. So it was a relief when Eleanor announced their divorce. Everyone sided with her. They separated rather quickly, and Eleanor moved away with her four kids.

She got back into dating, but every time they found out about the four children, they turned tail and ran. Didn’t give them a chance.

It hurt. A lot. John was only ten but he spent most of his time protecting his baby brother, sister and his older twin sister Henry Jr, Martha and Frances from Henry. It became John’s thing since he was little. He was a scared little kid really, wanting nothing more than to keep his family safe despite how small and young he himself was.

When Eleanor met Simon, John was understandably protective and suspicious. The ten year old spent his life as long as he could remember protecting his family from Henry, even stepping in when his father hit Eleanor once when he was eight. He won’t talk about what his father did, what his father said.

A few times Eleanor had gone on dates. Each time, the man found out about the children and turned tail and ran, didn’t want kids and decided that in a cruel way. Break-up texts and ‘I don’t want children’ said right to her face.

It was making Eleanor lose hope, but then she bumped into a man she liked from the get-go. A single father named Simon, working through a divorce and taking care of his twin sons Gilbert du Motier and Thomas. They just called Gilbert ‘Laf’.

Over the span of a few months, Simon and Eleanor grew close, worked through their divorces together with paperwork and emotional support.

It surprised them when he asked her out. It scared John when she said yes.

He didn’t let Simon in. Didn’t accept it - didn’t trust him. It fit well, Laf didn’t seem to like Eleanor much either. But Frances, Henry, Martha and Thomas? They seemed to like each other’s parent. John and Laf were the only ones pushing the other away.

John wasn’t sure why Laf did it. The boy seemed scared. Hid by his father when Eleanor was around. Didn’t speak to her. Cried when he was alone with her. Eleanor learned from Simon that their mother left them altogether after the divorce.

Laf wasn’t sure why John did it. The boy seemed terrified. Hid behind his mother when they were around. Won’t speak unless spoken to. Flinched when Thomas, Laf or Simon got too close to him. They learned from Eleanor that Henry was abusive.

Laf kept his distance. Thomas acted so rude and snobbish to the siblings, but sweet to Eleanor. Martha and Henry were exhilarated to have Simon around. Frances seemed happy that everyone was happy.

John wasn’t happy. He was good at faking it. Forced a small smile on his face when they looked at him. Put meaning to the phrase, “Sit still look pretty”.

No one knew how he was hurting inside, terrified Simon was going to either drop their mom altogether like the others or turn violent like Henry Sr. When John had just started getting a little used to Simon, he saw Laf once again scared of his mother. He sat him down, stated that they could share his mom. Laf didn’t want to.

John kept offering it occasionally, we could share her, she can be your mom too, she’s wonderful I promise. Laf refused each time. Once when John once again flinched away from Simon, glared at him as he kissed his mom, little nearly six year old Martha snapped at him herself, Simon’s so nice, he’s so good, you just aren’t giving him a chance, you suck.

For an adult, remarks like that would be funny. Something to laugh about later. For a child like him, it hurt. He stopped talking to Martha from there.

Five days of silence.

Three days, because that’s how long it took for John to get fed up and snap at Lafayette, why do you not like her? Is she not enough for you and your brother? She’s amazing, maybe we don’t need you. Maybe your mom didn’t need you either!

That guilt was horrible.

Two days, because that’s how long it took of John being shunned by his siblings, Laf and Thomas before he stuffed a spare shirt and spare pants in his backpack, grabbed his sketchbook and sneaked out the window of his room in the middle of the day as he hid in his bedroom.

He didn’t go too terribly far. He still wanted to keep an eye on his family, even if he wasn’t wanted around. But he walked for around two hours, exhausted by the time he finally found some abandoned building for a business that shut down years back.

He spent the rest of the day sobbing into his knees, feeling worse than ever. He was ten, how was he supposed to live alone? He didn’t have any of the necessary skills or money for this! But he couldn’t go back, not when they didn’t want him. If they couldn’t appreciate John looking out for them, they could handle themselves. John did not want a repeat of Henry.

When it hit five PM, Eleanor asked Martha to go get John, as he had yet to head downstairs. She went up for five minutes. She came back strangely quiet and alone. “Where’s John?” Eleanor asked with a raise of her eyebrow to her daughter.

There was a beat of silence that got everyone’s attention. Then Martha said something that quickly wiped that amused smile of Eleanor’s face, set a cold feeling in everyone’s chest, Eleanor feeling like she couldn’t hardly breathe in fear. “Jack’s gone.”

They immediately set out to look for him, Henry, Eleanor, Martha, Laf and Thomas staying home and Frances going with Simon to look around, to find her twin. It was stressful, terrifying for everyone. Fran was terrified for her brother, that much was clear. Where’s my brother? Are we going to find him, Simon? I don’t want anything to happen to Jacky!

Her words were spoken through occasional sobs as she gave in to crying, beyond worried about her twin as Simon drove them around the neighborhood. Martha started crying which caused Henry to start crying the moment the two left.

Thomas was being nice, trying to console them, ease their worries. Lafayette was silent, not saying a word. All they could do was anxiously wait.

Two hours passed. They returned. No sign of him. They called the police, reported John missing.

John hesitantly left his little shelter after two days had passed. He was hungry, scared and cold, but he was more scared to go home. He found himself sitting on a bench at a park in the middle of the day by then, not far from the building. An hour passed. A kind looking woman approached and took a seat beside him quietly. They watched the birds.

What’s your name, little one? John... But everyone calls me Jack... What are you doing out here alone? No answer. That’s okay. Everyone needs time away when they get stressed. My name’s Claire. That man over there by the tree? That’s my husband, Steven. John nodded along quietly, taking in the information. Talked to her for a while until this kind woman suddenly paused.

I thought you may like to see this. A piece of paper was set in his lap. He gazed down at it numbly. Felt his heart leap into his throat. There was a picture of him, beaming at the camera with Martha on his shoulders, Frances beside him holding Henry. John ‘Jack’ Laurens. Please call this number if you have any information regarding the missing child.

They miss me?

They sure do. What made you run?

... I snapped at Lafayette. Martha said I suck. I’m... I’m scared of Simon and Thomas, miss Claire.

Why are you scared?

M-My... My dad, Henry, he... He used to hit me. When I did wrong. When I spoke out of line. When I tried to protect my brother and sisters... I-I don’t want a repeat. I’m scared. I feel bad...

How about I take you home and we all talk about it together?

John went home with Claire and Steven. He sat nervously in the backseat, backpack clutched tight in his arms as he tried not to cry. Steven decided to reach back from the passenger seat and gently pat his leg. John appreciated the attempt at comfort.

When they opened the door, no one was expecting little John to be standing there. The three stepped inside. He barely had time to drop his backpack to catch Martha when she leaped at him, clutching tight, bawling against him. Henry whimpered until John sat beside him and held both of them.

Fran. Where’s Fran? Where is she? Frances, come down here! Why? You’ll have to come see, won’t you?

Frances came downstairs. Saw John. Martha moved away with Henry so Fran could tackle her brother and hug him tightly after her initial scream. She wouldn’t let go, and John didn’t want her to. They both started sobbing, clinging to each other. as she mumbled to him in Spanish. you’re so important, I love you so, so much, don’t leave me jack i don’t want to lose you.

i love you too, i won’t leave again. i’m sorry i didn’t think anyone cared i’m so sorry franny. They both got tight hugs from Eleanor, the little family holding tight to John and refusing to let go after those two terrifying, lonely days worried he would never return to them.

John was scared when Laf and Thomas approached him. Worried he wouldn’t be accepted back by them. Worried he’d ruined things for his mother. But then Thomas was hugging him, muttering about how it definitely did not mean he was worried or anything, even as his grip tightened when John whined. Lafayette cried, and John panicked once more thinking he’d fucked up before he admitted quietly to being glad John was home.

Simon may have been the most terrifying to John, approaching him slowly and crouching down, asking if it was alright that he hugged him. Asking if he was okay, if anyone hurt him. John started bawling then and there and hugged Simon tightly, whimpering and sniffling as the man hugged him right back, admitting to being scared he’d lost a son. He thinks of me as his son?

As everything was pulled forward, John was sat down in front of them all after an hour of clinging to each other and he felt a slight panic once more. It must have shown on his face, the tears burning his eyes, because suddenly Frances was at his side, holding his hand and kissing his cheek. Martha and Henry joined them on their laps. Thomas decided to sit at his other side with Lafayette by him.

It was calming. Knowing he wasn’t alone, looking up at the concerned faces of the four adults and suddenly everything came forth. Dad hit me when I did wrong or I talked back. I snapped at Lafayette because I thought he didn’t like mama and I was scared. Patsy got mad at me because I wasn’t accepting you and she said I suck and I panicked and I ran and I’m so sorry I’m sorryI’msorry-

It took him a moment to realize, to understand he’d just admitted to everything and it was easier than expected. The apologies kept coming for a moment until his mother gave him a kiss on the forehead and Simon hugged him once more. Eleanor and Steven made them a nice big dinner together. Eleanor baked cookies and let the kids each have one before dinner, the price is a kiss, right here, or a hug. She said teasingly, tapping her cheek. Martha, Henry, Frances, John and Thomas each gave her a kiss on the cheek. Lafayette gave her a shy hug and she gave him a kiss on the top of the head and two cookies.

When they all had dinner and went to bed that night, John sat Lafayette and Thomas down in his room and showed them sketches he’d been doing. His skill wasn’t the best seeing as he was only ten, but he was pretty good. He offered to draw the two of them together sometime. Swore to all his siblings before bed that he wouldn’t leave again, gave both Simon and his mother a kiss on the cheek.

Eleanor gave every single one of them a tight hug and stated simply how much she loved each one of them, from aunt Claire and uncle Steven to Lafayette and Thomas. Wanted her family to know she absolutely loved and treasured them. Didn’t want that fear of losing one of her boys again.

Steven got a handshake and Claire got a tight hug and an exceedingly grateful, thank you murmured to her when he pulled away. She hugged him once more before letting him go. As he curled up in bed, Frances decided to join him, the two curled up together holding hands.

Maybe being with Simon, Lafayette and Thomas wasn’t near as bad as he’d been thinking. The man was so kind to them, took care of them where Henry failed. Pieced them back together again where Henry shattered them. He could be honest with the man. He only wanted to help them, to show he loved them as his own family, and for once, John believed it.

He held Frances closer, kissed his twin’s forehead and whispered again to her, I promise I won’t leave again. I’m sorry I left in the first place. I love you so much, Franny... She held his hands tighter. He let himself drift off to sleep, warm and comfortable and not at all scared for the first time in a long time.

He takes care of me ‘cause he loves me. Piece by piece, he restored my faith that a man can be kind and a father could stay.