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#it is strange to me that Sharon cares so much about her work but isn’t bothered by the way Steve speaks to her
daydreamerdrew · 4 months
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Tales of Suspense (1959) #94
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All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Max (4x18)
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“I'm not Max's sister.”
It feels strange to say it. Max was her family, blood or no blood. 
“I know,” Agent Scully says from behind her. Sharon can’t see her, but she can feel her gaze boring into her back. She hates being stuck in this place; it makes her feel crazier than she is. “We're not quite sure why you lied to us though, Sharon. Or what else you might be lying about.”
Sharon Graffia isn’t a liar. She’d only done what she needed to in order for people to believe her. All she’s ever wanted was someone to believe her.
She’d found that person in Max. But he’s gone now.
Sharon turns to look at the agent as the petite redhead makes her way around the hospital bed, approaching her slowly. “Doesn't matter anymore.” 
“Yes, it does,” Agent Scully says. “If you know something, anything about what Max was doing, about what he was carrying on that plane– it could matter a lot.”
“To who?” She finds it hard to believe anyone actually cares what she has to say. What Max had to say. So many people have been asking her questions, and not a single one of them has believed her anyway.
This agent probably won’t believe her, either. It’s the other one she needs right now, the one Max always talked about.
“To Max,” Agent Scully says gently. 
“I can't.” 
“Why not?”
Sharon’s eyes are wide. She never intended for this to go so far. “Because I could be in big, big trouble.”
Agent Scully looks at her with concern. She reaches out to switch a light on, and Sharon knows that regardless of what the agent believes, the truth is all over her skin, scattered across the side of her face like stars. 
“Max had those same blisters,” Agent Scully says. “You both were exposed to something, Sharon. What was it?”
She doesn’t know how much to reveal. “It was something I stole.”
“From whom?” There’s something about the way Agent Scully is asking the question that makes Sharon think she already knows the answers. And as it turns out, she does. “Max was trying to find physical evidence to prove his abduction stories were true. You worked as an aeronautical systems engineer. You stole something from your employer, didn't you? Something radioactive.”
“Only because I believed in Max.”
“What was it?”
She has to tell someone, she has to. Oh, please believe me.
“Max said it was alien technology. It was three interlocking parts. We divided it into sections. I had one part. Max had another on board that flight. But they were taken from us.”
“There was a third part. What happened to it?”
She hesitates. Perhaps she’s said too much already. But Agent Scully knows more than she’s let on as well. Does she believe?
“Sharon, I need your help. There are dozens of families that need answers, including Max’s.” She pauses, perhaps only now realizing Sharon is Max’s only family. “What you tell me could help bring the truth to light. Isn’t that what Max would have wanted?”
Sharon shakes her head. It hurts to answer. “You don’t understand. How could you? He was my best friend. And now he’s dead. For nothing.”
“I do understand. My friend was shot and killed,” Agent Scully said. Sharon looks up, surprised. “By the same men who are trying to dishonor Max’s memory.”
Sharon knows that so many lives have been lost. She doesn’t understand how it had happened, exactly, but it has something to do with what Max was carrying on that plane. It has something to do with what she’d delivered to him. And for this, she feels an overwhelming amount of guilt.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, with a shuddering sob she can no longer hold in. “None of this was supposed to happen.”
Agent Scully places a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Why did you lie about who you are?” she asks again.
“Because Max trusted you,” she says. “You and Agent Mulder. At least, that’s what he told me. I thought that if you knew how much he trusted me, that maybe… you might, too.”
“I want to trust you, Sharon. But you have to give me something.”
“I wasn’t always like this, you know,” Sharon says, sniffling. “I used to be respected in my field. But then… they came. And after that, everything was different.”
“You mean… your abduction experiences?” the agent asks carefully. 
Sharon nods. “It was interfering with my work. My mind, my sanity. Everyone thought I was crazy except Max.” She smiles, remembering the day they met. It was at the facility, in the cafeteria; they’d served spaghetti for lunch. Sharon had asked about the UFO on Max’s baseball cap. “It was the first time someone believed me. Really believed me.” She looks up at Agent Scully. “You have no idea how much that meant to me.”
Agent Scully smiles a bit wistfully. “I think that you and I have more in common than you realize,” she says quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“Agent Mulder and Max are a lot alike. I noticed when we first met him, the similarities.” Scully leans forward. “I didn’t know Max as well as you did, but I do know Mulder, and I know I’d hate to see him remembered in a way that dishonors who I knew him to be. So help us, Sharon. Help us to honor Max. You’re the only one who can.”
Sharon takes a deep breath. “If I tell you where to find it, will you help me get out of here?” She looks around the tiny room. She just wants to go home. “I’m not crazy, Agent Scully.”
The redheaded agent smiles, and places her hand on top of Sharon’s.
“I don’t think you’re crazy, Sharon,” she says. “I just think you need someone who will listen.”
Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own!
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nightingaelic · 3 years
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Reactions to a vampire courier? Companions plus Benny, Ulysses, Graham, House, Caesar, and Yes Man. (sorry if that's too many :x)
TW: Blood (maybe obviously)
Also I don't normally feel some type of way about AUs but the idea of Joshua Graham encountering a vampire courier is giving me shivers
The courier was a little... strange. Not in any way that stood out to the average wastelander just by looking at them, everyone in the Mojave had their quirks and the courier was no exception. Hell, you get shot in the head and come back, you're bound to have a screw or two loose. They were unquestionably a night owl, but so were half the people on the Strip, who only started to wake up after the sun had gone down and the slot machines were singing their loudest. They usually had bags under their bloodshot eyes, but every caravan driver from here to the Hub was short on sleep.
On the other hand, the courier had some habits that were a little beyond surface-level eccentricities. For one, no one had ever seen them eating, not once. Even when the King laid out a spread of pre-war snacks and liquor or when the buffet at the Tops was refreshed, they politely declined and took a swig from the canteen that they never offered to anyone else. They were also rather odd about bathrooms, insisting that anyone accompanying them remain outside on watch and let no one else through the door until they were finished. But the undeniable moment of oddity came one night in October, when their companion rounded a corner in Freeside after a trip to the Atomic Wrangler and discovered the courier behind a rusted dumpster, holding a man against a brick wall with their teeth buried in his neck.
The courier drew back at the interruption, blood smeared across their face. "I'm not- it's not what- he- oh, fuck."
Arcade Gannon: Arcade stared open-mouthed for a moment, before snapping violently back into the present. "Is he dead?"
"Umm..." The courier glanced at the man they were holding, whose head was lolling against the bricks. "Yes? Mostly."
With no patient to resuscitate, Arcade rounded on them. "Six, what in the ever-loving fuck are you doing?"
The courier tried to wipe away the blood that was dribbling from their chin, but they only succeeded in spreading it up their jawline. "Well, I, um, I was trying to..."
Whatever excuse they were searching for eluded them, so they dropped the pretense. "I was feeding, Arcade."
"Feeding? What, like some kind of-" Arcade's eyes widened and he cut his sentence off early in realization. "No. No way. That's not- vampires aren't real!"
That earned him a look of intense skepticism. "Arcade, we've fought off plant monsters and rattlesnake-coyote hybrids together. I have a gun in my pack that lets me teleport."
"Oh, okay, so you have some kind of iron deficiency and you're delusional." Arcade laughed, the sound high and harsh in the quiet alley. "Great. Fuck."
Craig Boone: Rather than engage in an abandoned alley, Boone immediately backtracked to a busier street. He was unsurprised when the courier didn't follow him: Even in Freeside, someone covered in blood was sure to be noticed and questioned.
Boone left town that night and made for Novac. He was pretty sure the courier would follow him, but he didn't know where else to go. At least he knew they were coming. A few people in Novac asked about where he'd been, what the courier was up to, but eventually they stopped asking.
A couple of weeks went by. Boone was on the night shift again when the door into the dinosaur swung open to reveal the courier. He'd heard someone coming, their feet on the stairs, and he already had his gun pointed in their face. "We will never work together again," he said, before they could open their mouth.
"Boone, can you just-"
"I don't want an explanation." Boone shook his head. "I don't need one. I already did you a favor, leaving New Vegas without putting you back in your grave. This is over."
The courier took a deep breath. "71."
"What?"
"71. I've killed 71 Legion soldiers and left their bodies empty under the Mojave sky." They looked down and shuffled their feet. "I've tasted their fear. They're more scared of me than the Burned Man, now."
Boone studied them. Ever so slowly, he lowered his gun.
Lily Bowen: "Put him down, dearie," Lily chastised them. "You're playing too roughly with that man. And watch your language around your grandma!"
The courier looked down at their victim, at their torn throat and limp limbs. "He tried to mug me, Lily. It wasn't pretty."
"He looks like he's had enough," Lily insisted. "Set him down. Gently."
With a sigh, the courier obliged and lowered the man to the ground. "I'm sorry, Lily. I should have told you earlier. I don't mean to be rude when I turn down your cooking, I just... I can't seem to..."
"Hush, now." Lily produced her enormous handkerchief and gathered the courier up in her arms, dabbing at the blood on their face with a corner of the cloth. "You've gotten it all over yourself, haven't you? We can clean that right up, but it looks like Grandma's going to have to do a load of laundry. You made the mess, so you get to help."
Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul swallowed nervously, something he'd noticed he was increasingly doing around the courier. "You know, we get murciélagos down in Arizona that do the same thing. They won't leave the brahmin alone."
The courier took in his anxious stance and sighed. "Raul, I'm not going to hurt you. Prometo. It's okay."
"Sure boss, but I don't think the hair on the back of my neck is going down anytime soon." Raul smiled, but it was more of a grimace. "Or it wouldn't, if I still had any. Como..?"
"No clue." The courier shrugged and held their hands up, letting the corpse they'd been holding slide to the ground. "I think it had something to do with me surviving Benny's best attempts to do me in, but a bullet is a bullet and I don't remember if I was like this before, or..."
"Or only after." Raul chuckled. "Jesucristo, and here I am thinking I'll outlive you like most everyone else I've known."
"Yep."
"Should I start calling you el chupacabra?"
The courier grinned, a bloody smile with sharp teeth.
Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Fuck," Cass echoed, scrambling to pull her shotgun from its holster. "Knew I had too much, can't even- who are you and what've you done with the courier? Some kind of cannibal, wearing their skin? Alien? Shapeshifter? I'll blow a hole in your liver to match mine!"
"Whoa, Cass, it's me, it's me!" The courier dropped the man they were holding and held their blood-stained hands up. "Same old Six, just... maybe I wasn't straight with you about why I don't order anything at bars."
"Goddamn right you weren't straight with me!" Cass gestured at the body on the ground with the barrel of her gun. "Who's the fucker on the floor and why are you two pints in on him?"
"Just trying to get my drink on," the courier muttered.
Cass repaid this facetiousness with a jab of her shotgun, and they raised their hands higher. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! You tell me, how do you tactfully tell someone that you're a creature of the night and you need to drink blood to survive?"
"Creature of the night? You're fucking loopy." Cass' eyes narrowed. "There's plenty of critters in the Mojave that only come out when it's dark, but most of them don't tear into..."
She trailed off into curses when she realized she was wrong. The courier smiled hesitantly and lowered their hands an inch. "Hey. Let me chuck this failed mugger in the dumpster and we can talk about it like a pair of civilized folks?"
Veronica Santangelo: Veronica squeaked and fell back a few steps, banging her elbow against the edge of the dumpster. A jolt of confused pain shot up her arm, and the Scribe couldn't help giggling harshly at the sudden assault on her funny bone.
"Not- laughing... at murder," she managed to get out between hisses of pain. "Oh, for the love of... right, you're not getting out of explaining what you are, exactly, just because I'm indis-indisposed!"
The courier couldn't help laughing at the squirming Scribe, but they did their best to stifle it. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I um... I guess I don't really know... what I am?"
"There's books!" Veronica burst out, pointing at the courier and their victim wildly. "I've seen them, in old libraries. Creatures that feed on blood, only come out at night, don't show up in... in mirrors, of course, no wonder you're weird about bathrooms, I should test... Dracula! That's it, you're a Dracula!"
"A Dracula?" The courier held their hands up, as if seeing them anew. "Never heard of them. Are they... bad?"
"Well, traditionally, yes." Veronica made a face and rubbed her elbow. "Black cloaks, sleeping in coffins, seducing and manipulating everyone around them... and people don't like it when you take their blood, in my experience."
"Whose blood have you taken?"
"This isn't about me, Six!"
ED-E: The eyebot bobbed wildly and made noises of concern, blips and blats and a flat burst of trumpets from some old jazz tune.
"I was hungry," the courier protested. "And this asshole pulled a knife on me and wanted all of my caps. Probably more than that, if we're being honest. He wasn't doing the world any good, but he did me some, for sure."
ED-E flipped between old clips of a Silver Shroud radio show. "Well, isn't this a deep, dark <static> secret? <static> In a situation such as this, the best anyone can do is <static> try to control it!" The robot added some more concerned beeps for good measure.
"I'm trying," the courier said with a sigh, looking down at the dead man they were holding. "You know I wouldn't hurt some random person, ED-E. Not if I could help it. The Mojave's full of bad people, enough to keep me going if I'm careful."
Rex: The hair on Rex's spine stood up, and he let out a long, low growl. The courier froze for a moment, before realizing that he was growling not at them but at the man they were holding.
"He's dead, Rex," they reassured the cyberdog, lowering the corpse to the floor for inspection.
Rex sniffed the body over, taking in the copper scent of his blood and the Freeside stink on his clothes. He sniffed the courier too, each of their hands they held out to him and the thick headiness of adrenaline. He whined and wagged his tail twice.
"Good boy," the courier said, straightening up. "It's about time I turned in, anyway. Let's dump this guy and split."
Benny Gecko: Benny crossed his arms. "You know, Six, if you're dead set on getting your kicks in Freeside every now and then, you might want to ease up on the passions with the next greaser you snag. This one's torn all to pieces."
"I wasn't- what kind of-" The courier dropped the man they were holding and sputtered. "Christ, only you could make a midnight murder awkward, Benny."
"Murder?" Benny raised his eyebrows and looked from side to side theatrically. "Who said anything about a murder? All I saw was some dreamboat and the best apple butterer of New Vegas playing back alley bingo, officer."
The courier's eyes narrowed. "Not gonna rat me out? Tell the King or somebody that I'm..."
"What, taking a page out of the White Glove Society's book?" Benny held his hands up. "None of my business. Well, if you ever come for me with that look in your eyes, though, that'll be a different story."
"Not much you'd be able to do," the courier pointed out. "You already tried and failed to kill me once."
Ulysses: Rather than react like any normal wastelander might've upon encountering someone attacking a man with their teeth, Ulysses just stood there, taking the scene in. "Heard tales of a tribe like you. East, farther east than even I've walked... a coven hiding in tunnels, emerging only when their hungers grow too strong to ignore, strong enough to pull blood from the veins of the world around them."
"Well, I don't hide in tunnels." The courier grimaced and heaved their victim up over their shoulder, depositing them unceremoniously in the dumpster. "Unless some disgruntled Frumentarius sends me out to hunt mutants under Hopeville."
"Perhaps you have more in common with those predators than I assumed," Ulysses admitted. "But then, your path has always run red. Blood of the Old World, blood of the new, blood of the Bull and the Bear..."
The courier rolled their eyes as they peeled off their red-stained coat and tossed it in the dumpster as well. "Don't talk to me about blood. I know you've seen just as much as me, but it doesn't mean the same thing when I look at it."
Ulysses cracked a hint of a smile. "You see life where I see death. Two sides, courier."
"Yeah, yeah. If you're not going to try to kill me, come on. You can wax poetic and lecture me about which road I'm walking while I take a shower."
Joshua Graham: "A creature far from God," Graham said in his most reproachful tone. "Forever damned for the souls of the innocent they've taken from the earth. Aren't we a pair, courier."
"You can fuck right off with that attitude." The courier dropped the man they were holding and wiped their hands on their coat. "He tried to kill me first. For some caps."
"The crimes of others do not absolve you of your own sins, courier," Graham continued, leisurely retrieving his gun from its holster. He held it up in the muted neon light that filtered through the alley, turning the weapon this way and that. "Though I confess I am also looking for absolution in this way."
"Are you going to kill me?" the courier asked, eyeing the gun as well.
"I've no doubt it would leave this world better than when you walked it," Graham replied. "But my own opinions are not enough to seal your fate. Perhaps we should find this man's family and hear their feelings on the matter."
The courier took a step forward, then another, until their chest was right up against the pistol's muzzle, pressed against the fabric of their shirt. "Go ahead. Try."
And though Joshua Graham was sorely tempted to pull the trigger, though the courier made no move to stop him, something in their eyes... some faraway pain, older than the desert itself, fresh as the blood on the ground, stayed his hand.
He lowered the gun, chastised, and the courier walked away.
Robert House: The Securitron that bore Robert House's face on its screen leveled a minigun at the courier. "Whoa!" the courier protested, dropping their victim and putting their hands out. "Can't we talk about this?"
"And what have we to discuss?" House sounded absolutely disgusted. "I believe you're familiar with my contract with the White Glove Society. If they wish to continue their current prosperity in New Vegas, cannibalism is strictly forbidden. You are subject to the same terms and conditions, as one of my employees."
"Terms and condi- hold on, hold on, you never asked me whether I was a cannibal," the courier replied. "Are you talking about that document you had me sign, way back when I agreed to help you fight the NCR and the Legion?"
"The very same."
"How is that fair? That thing was over 200 pages long, I didn't grow up in the 21st century, I don't have a degree in... okay, okay." The courier waved their hands. "Cannibalism is a no-go. This isn't cannibalism, this is vampirism."
"Which falls under the definition of cannibalism," House replied, his annoyed tone still detectable over the sound of the minigun spinning up. "Section 3.65, subsection F. Next time, read the fine print."
Caesar: The Legion's great leader pivoted in an instant from surprise to quiet anger. "Clean yourself up, courier. I expect to see you in my quarters within the hour."
He turned and left the alley swiftly, letting his powerful stride and swinging cloak cover his shaken confidence. The people of Freeside cowered as he passed, shrinking into the shadows as he made his way back to the Strip, but the fear in their eyes was not enough to erase the image of the courier bent over in bloodlust, holding their victim in total subjugation.
The courier found him on the top floor of the Lucky 38, gazing out over the city he had conquered and named his Rome. "Leave us," Caesar bid his Praetorian Guard. They bowed and departed the room without question.
"You asked to see me," the courier said nervously, shifting their weight from foot to foot. They had changed clothes, and no trace of blood remained on them.
"I did." Caesar beckoned them to the window next to him. They stood in silence for a moment, watching the lights wink below.
"I'm a well-read man, courier," Caesar said finally. "I know the legends of the Old World, and I recognize the marks of one of their nightmares in you. I order you to tell me the truth: Do you fit the full definition of the creature they called 'vampire,' or do you simply mimic the things to add to your fearsome affect?"
The courier didn't answer right away. When they did, their voice was soft. "I pretend to be nothing. I am what I am."
"And everything that comes with it?" Caesar pressed. "Darkness, the blood of the innocent, eternity?"
"Yes."
Caesar turned to face them fully. "Then I, Almighty Caesar, command you to make me as you are."
Yes Man: "Now that's a twist I didn't see coming!" Yes Man said, his happy tone only slightly tempered with uncertainty. "Boy, am I glad I don't have a circulatory system right now!"
The courier shushed the Securitron and looked around the alley surreptitiously. "Yes Man, I swear to god, if you blow my cover I'm disassembling you."
"As I've told you before, I can't technically die!" Yes Man reassured them. "And I certainly wouldn't want to endanger you and your hobbies, but my volume mixer is tied to my enthusiasm simulator and I can't adjust it! You'll just have to hope any passersby aren't interested in following my friendly voice into an alley!"
"Then go back to the Lucky 38 and we'll talk later," the courier insisted, through gritted teeth.
"I technically never left! But if you mean this Securitron, sure thing!" Yes Man zoomed away on his single wheel, whistling the whole way back to the casino where the rest of his consciousness was housed. He kept whistling as he ran probability algorithms, only pausing when the courier returned after a few hours and crossed their arms in front of his main screen.
"Hi there!" he said joyfully. "I've just been cross-checking Mr. House's records on noteworthy disappearances in the Strip, and I've flagged eight of them as potentially being connected to you! I don't want to assume your intentions, but if you don't want to be found out, I've developed a plan for choosing your next victims that will help you remain undetected in New Vegas for 184 years! Give or take a few!"
The courier put their head in their hand and sighed.
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hi!! do you have any good insecure/low self esteem Sherlock fics? thank you!
Hi Nonny!
AHHHH I’ve too many to count; I did a list back in 2019 that combined the both of them, but I get asked so often for one or the other that I think it’s time to make separate lists, and to do that requires me to re-tag a tonne of fics, so for now, I will give you all the ones I have tagged; I apologize if I’ve missed any, but I’m going through them slowly <3 Enjoy!!
INSECURE / AWKWARD SHERLOCK Pt. 2
See also: Insecure / Awkward John or Sherlock (Jan 2019)
The Four Incidents by TheGirlWithRedHair22 (K+, 1,064 w., 1 Ch. || S1 Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, John Whump, Accident, John POV, Hand Holding, Worried Sherlock, Sherlock’s Self Esteem) – The first time John was present when someone insulted Sherlock, he brushed it off as a strange coincidence.
Together is What we Have, Together Protects Us by Phantom of the Black Pearl (K+, 1,566 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, Friendship / Platonic or Slash, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Sherlock, Worried Sherlock, Slice of Life) – After a case one evening in the flat Sherlock voices a concern that causes the pair to consider why they've chosen to stick together after all that's happened.
Like Euphoria and Scotch by FinAmour (M, 1,856 w., 1 Ch. || Five and One, Alcohol / Drinking, POV Second Person Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock’s Imagination, Armchair Sex, Fluff, Happy Ending) – 5 different ways it all could have gone + the one way it actually works itself out.
Five Times Sherlock gave John a Pebble and One Time John Returned the Gesture by grimmfairy (NR, 1,895 w., 1 Ch. || Love Confessions, Fluff, Penguins and Pebbles, Nervous / Pining Sherlock, Oblivious John) – Sherlock isn't good with words, so he decides to tell John his feelings the way penguins do, by bringing him pebbles with different meanings. John catches on.
The Imminent Danger of a Tumblr-Night by Loveismyrevolution (T, 2,135 w., 1 Ch. || Tumblr Fics, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock is Out of His Depth, Humour, Fluff, Pining Sherlock, Military Kink, POV Sherlock) – Sherlock gets into trouble when he pretends to know all about John's favourite social media site - tumblr. To save face he seeks help from one of the bloggers and gains more answers than he had aimed for.
Work On Your Balance by speculate (K+, 2,448 w., 1 Ch. || Embarrassed Sherlock, “For A Case”, Skating, Fluff, Friendship, Humour) – In which John is actually pretty good at ice skating, Sherlock's not and insists it's all for a case , and Lestrade is pretty amused by it all.
The Many Faces of Concern by sdrawkcabemdaer5 (K+, 2,473 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Angsty Fluff, John Whump, Mildly Clueless Sherlock) – John is injured on a case, leading to some surprising reactions and discoveries about their friendship.
Nothing Left Untouched by ForeverShippingJohnlock (K+, 2,617 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Romance, Bed Sharing, Oblivious Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Grumpy John, Fluff and Cuddles) – Sherlock rearranges the flat. So what if John's bedroom is now a research library. It's not like John needs a bedroom, he can share with Sherlock. They're friends and John has obviously slept in close quarters with men before and it's not like Sherlock sleeps much anyway. It'll be fine.
Closeted by Sexxica (E, 2,762 w., 1 Ch. || Trapped in a Closet, Panicking Sherlock, Hand Jobs, Coming in Pants, Awkward Conversations, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Fluffy Ending) – An improvised hiding spot and a bit of accidental voyeurism leave John and Sherlock in an awkward position.
Reversed by whitchry9 (K+, 3,072 w., 6 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Medical Anomalies, John Gets Shot) – The man pointed his gun at John's chest, right at his heart, and shot.' Wherein John is shot, and Sherlock is the one panicking.
Study in Sherlock by chappysmom (K+, 3,790 w., 1 Ch. || ASiP, Friendship, Introspection, Anxious Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Caring Sherlock, Stroppy Sherlock) – Sherlock's thoughts and feelings during A Study in Pink. What DID he think of John, and why was he being so NICE?
Date Night by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 4,451 w., 1 Ch. || Anxious / Worried Sherlock, Caring John, Schmoopy Fluff, Fidget Cube, Baking / Cooking, Date Night, Established Relationship, POV Sherlock Holmes, Understanding John, Grumpy Sherlock, John’s Bum, Kisses, Hugs, Domestic Fluff, Touching, Hair Petting, Light Humour) – It's John and Sherlock's first Date Night as an official couple and Sherlock needs it to be PERFECT. Mrs Hudson helps. Part 7 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection
Sherlock and John Go Clubbing by wendymarlowe (E, 4,716 w., 3 Ch. || Clubbing, Dirty Talk, Dancing, Coming Untouched, Coming in Pants, Bi John, For a Case, Friends to Lovers, Flirting, Sherlock is Lost for Words, Sexy John, Mutual Pining, Possessive John, Floor Sex/Hand Job/Frottage) – John pinched the bridge of his nose - even for Sherlock, this was a new level of no bloody boundaries. “You want me to go with you to a gay club, wait around twiddling my thumbs while I let you get pawed by a criminal, then out-flirt him and talk you into coming home with me instead?” Part 32 of John and Sherlock's Kinky First Times
Applied Linguistics by what_alchemy (M, 4,837 w., 1 Ch. || Possessive / Anxious Sherlock, Introspection, Bed Sharing, Past John Whump, Est. Rel., Marriage Proposal, Sherlock Loves John So Much, Word Play) – “He wants to shake John by the shoulders, wants to open his mouth and swallow John whole. Wants to marry him.” Sherlock searches for the right words.
Sleeping next to you by Salambo06 (E, 5,018 w, 2 Ch. || ASiB Fic, Bed Sharing, Frottage, Mutual Masturbation, Rimming, Anal, First Kiss/Time, POV Sherlock) – Based on an Anonymous Prompt: "So, that scene from ASiB when Mrs H has been attacked by the American CIA guy & John, Sherlock & she are in Mrs H's kitchen when John says "She’ll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight. We need to look after her." to which Sherlock replies with "no". John of course suggested that because he cares about her safety, but maybe he also did it cause he /wanted/ that to happen. What if they finally agreed on letting her have John's or Sherlock's bed & J&S sleep in the same one?" Part 12 of Tumblr Collection
Nothing So Sweet by alexxphoenix42 (E, 5,275 w., 1 Ch. || Shopkeeper AU || Beekeeping, Sussex, Alternate First Meeting, Awkward First Time Sex, Self-Consciousness / Body Insecurity, Fluff, Hand Jobs) – In an alternate universe, Sherlock is busy keeping to himself, tending his bees, and selling lovely jars of honey when a soldier limps into his life quite unexpectedly. Part 1 of The Sweetest Things
My First, My Only, and My Forever by vintagelilacs (E, 6,220 w., 1 Ch. || Post-ASiB, Virgin Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock’s Bum, John’s Scar, Sherlock POV, Body Worship, Fingering, Bottomlock, Promise of Forever / Proposals, Misunderstanding, First Kiss/Time, Loss of Virginity, Virginity Kink, Seduction) – Sherlock narrowed his eyes. He was missing a vital piece of data, he was sure. John had been looking at him oddly ever since they left Buckingham Palace, and the ensuing incident with Irene Adler had only exacerbated his erratic behaviour. What was it? Why would he care that Sherlock was a virgin? There was nothing reminiscent of mockery or pity in his gaze. And then it hit him. John Watson was aroused.
Time on my hands by Mildredandbobbin (M, 7,179 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S3, One Night Stands, Mutual Pining, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Sexual Exploration / Discovery, Desperation, Body Worship) – Virginity’s a construct, a concept—what does losing one’s virginity entail for a gay man anyway? Sherlock wants to fill that particular gap in his knowledge but John won’t, can’t, never will assist and there’s only so much desperately unspoken pining even Sherlock can take.
The Very Unlikely Existence of a Flightless Bird in a Tuxedo by cwb (E, 8,829 w., 1 Ch. || Poetry, Penguins / Animals / Zoos, First Kiss / Time, Blow / Hand Jobs, Sleepy Cuddles, Endearments, Friendship / Love, Adorable / Sleepy Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock Can’t Say Penguin) – A case at the zoo reveals something John finds cute about Sherlock. A conversation ensues, and so does happy endings.
Always the sun by Rose de Sharon (K+, 12,377 w., 3 Ch. || Song Fic, Alternate Post-TGG, Friendship/Bromance, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection / Reflection, Injury Recovery, Obsessive / Protective Sherlock, Nightmares, John’s Past, Bed Sharing / Cuddles) – Sherlock ponders about how much his life has changed since John has become his flatmate.
Understanding by rizandace (T, 13,268 w., 15 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Worried Sherlock, John Whump Then Sherlock Whump) – Sherlock's hiding something about his newest case, and John wants answers. Set post-TGG. Friendship fic, mostly, with brief entrances from Harry and Lestrade just for fun.
On The Fence by BeautifulFiction (T, 13,770 w., 1 Ch. || Fencing, Case Fic, First Kiss, Insecure John, Pining John, Hug, Greg Finds Out) – The murder of the King's College fencing champion leads to revelations about Sherlock's past. Will it be the point that tips them from friends to lovers, or will they remain on the fence?
Pattern Behaviour by SilentAuror (E, 14,835 w., 1 Ch. || POV First Person Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Introspection, Stroppy Sherlock, Light Humour, Friendship, John Takes Care of Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Wall Kisses, Fluffy Angst, Happy Ending) – Sherlock doesn't even know why he resents John's dates so much. Until the day he does know. Slight angst, unrequited feelings (but don't let that scare you off!)
The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names, Panic Attack) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.
A Silver Sixpence by _doodle (NC-17, 16,400 w., 2 Ch. || LJ Fic || For a Case / Case Fic, Fake Relationship, Humour, Romance, Marriage Proposal, Awkward Idiots, Cuddling, Touching, Kissing, Love Confessions, Bed Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fake Until It’s Not, Schmoop and Fluff, Bottomlock) – “John, we need to get married. It’s for a case, not any romantic notions on my part pertaining to our partnership,” Sherlock said, with brutal honesty, and without even looking up.
Hope for Heroes by Richefic (K+, 16,887 w., 5  Ch. || Post-TGG Fic, Introspection / Flashbacks, Friendship/Epic Bromance, Hurt/Comfort, Worried/Anxious Sherlock, Sherlock Admires John, BAMF John, John Deduces, Fancy Party, John’s Self Esteem, Domestics) – In the final moments of "The Great Game" Holmes hopes he will have the chance to tell his flatmate that he was wrong. Heroes do exist after all and the one in front of him is called Dr John Watson.
Between Friends by SilentAuror (E, 18,036 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3, Alternating POV, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Abduction, Awkward Situations / Miscommunications, Porn With Feels, Blowjobs, Pining, Unrequited, Angst With Happy Ending) – Sherlock gets abducted. As John discovers him tied up naked in an empty storage facility and comes to rescue him, Sherlock's body has an unfortunate reaction which triggers a series of events. John is convinced that everything will be fine as long as they never discuss it. Sherlock isn't as sure...
Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...
A Quiet Life by DiscordantWords (M, 25,176 w., 6 Ch. || Post S4, Retirement, POV Sherlock, Awkwardness, Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Minor Character Death, Questionable Parenting Choices, Non-Linear Narrative, 20 Year Old Rosie, Meddling Mycroft, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Angst, Sherlock Whump) – There had been three days of silence and a funeral. Sherlock had the terrible feeling that whatever happened next would depend, entirely, on him.
Rupert Street by WritingOutLoud (M, 27,262 w., 9 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting || Case Fic, Sexuality, Demisexual Sherlock, Drugging, Smart John, Sherlock Has Internalized Biphobia, Fluff, Angst with Happy Ending, Gay Bar, Flirting, John Manipulates Sherlock to Eat, John Deduces, Arguments, Kidnapping/Torture, Hospitalization, John Whump) – Discharged from the war with nothing but the clothes on his back and a realisation of his bisexuality, John Watson has to learn who he’s become. He can’t afford London on an army pension, but the city is the only friend he has. In an effort to understand his newfound queer identity, he heads to a bar one night, where he stumbles across a mysterious stranger who turns his life upside down. ‘I dug around inside myself, and I'm not quite sure what I found, but it was beautiful and terrifying all at the same time.’
The Wisteria Tree by SilentAuror (E, 29,773 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Emotional Love Making, Amnesia/Memory Loss, Sherlock Loves John So Much, Sherlock POV, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, First Times, Hurt/Comfort, Est. Rel., Retirement) – Sherlock wakes up from a month-long coma only to discover that he has no memory of the previous six years to his own shock as well as John's...
A Home for Us by sussexbound (M, 30,581 w., 12 Ch. || Scars, Bedsharing, Grief, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation, Heavy Emotions, Clingy Sherlock, Hallucinations, Disassociation, Emotional Turmoil) – He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.
Deck the Halls by itsalwaysyou_jw (T, 31,018 w., 24 Ch. || Advent Fic / Multiple One-Shots, Assorted Tags) – One Johnlock ficlet for every day leading up to Christmas. Who is ready for pining, first kisses, established Johnlock, and everything in between? This collection of stand-alone ficlets will have it all.
The Winter Garden by Callie4180 (T, 31,213 w., 13 Ch. || Post-S4, Retirement, Christmas, Slow Burn, Grown-Up Rosie, Parenthood, Rosie’s Cat, Angst with Happy Ending, Holidays, Beekeeping, Magical Realism, Sherlock POV, Sherlock’s Violin, Future Fic, Sussex, Honey, Magical Healing Honey, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Scar, First Kiss, Touching) – As Sherlock nears the end of his career, he's given the gift of a cottage in Sussex. The honey from the beehives out back is amazing. Almost...magical.
a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w., 26 Ch. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock, Frottage, Nightmares, Sleepy Sherlock, Marriage Proposal, Humour, Fluff, Dancing, Cooking, Happy Ending) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of
carrying up his morning tea by darcylindbergh (E, 34,504 w., 5 Ch. || Post S3, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Wakes/Funerals, Estranged John, Pining Sherlock, Depression/Insecurity, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain/Injury, Reconciliation, Awkwardness, Loneliness, Scars, Angst With Happy Ending) – His fingers tremble as he dials and he can’t force them steady. Familiar number, even though he hasn’t used it in two years. He isn’t even sure he should be calling it now, but she’d asked. She’d made him promise.
Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, Sherlock Has a Boyfriend) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.
The Unfinished Letters by SilentAuror (E, 37,391 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3 / S3 / HLV Fix it, Angst with Happy Ending, Romance, Infidelity, Depression, Case Fic, POV Third Person Sherlock, Love Confessions, Pining Sherlock, Letters) – A fire at Baker Street leads John to read something he was never intended to see: a notebook of half-written, unfinished letters Sherlock wrote during his time away...
(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea by DiscordantWords (M, 39,968 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It || Grief / Mourning, Victor Trevor, Friendship, Sherlock is Not Okay, Nightmares/Flashbacks/Panic Attacks, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John Comes Home) – Baker Street is very much the same. Only different. And Sherlock is just trying not to drown.
Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.
Never Change a Running System by Lorelei_Lee (E, 54,246 w., 18 Ch. || Pre-TRF, Romance, Humour, Drama, Sex Toys, Anal, Rimming, Masturbation, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Public Sex, First Kiss / Time, Virgin Sherlock / Loss of Virginity, Accidental Voyeurism, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Experiments, Naive Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Straight With an Exception John, Hand Jobs) – Sherlock discovers his sexuality – with far-reaching consequences for John.
A Goose Quill Dipped in Venom by Polyphony (M, 52,748 w., 16 Ch. || Celebrity John AU || Alternate First Meeting, TV Host John, Supermodel Mary, Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Case Fic, First Kiss/Time, Meddling Mycroft, Drug Abuse, Doctor John, PDA, Deductions, POV Sherlock, Toplock, Sexual Tension, Angry/Rough Sex, Hopeful Ending, Asperger’s Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, is called in to a very ordinary although brutal murder. Something is badly out of tune with the whole scenario and Sherlock finds himself becoming more and more obsessed with the crime - and also with the victim.
A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (E, 55,536 w., 16 Ch. || Astronauts AU || Mars Exploration / Space Travel, Slow Burn, Shy Sherlock, Scientist Sherlock / Biomed Engineer John, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, UST, Angst with Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Zero-G Sex) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because...new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters? Gonna be a wild ride... prepare for blast off. Part 1 of SpaceBois go to Space
The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w., 21 Ch. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate's nose buried in your hair. Whilst you're in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine
One Little Change by jadztone (E, 58,312 w., 12 Ch. || ASiB Divergence, Fake Relationship, Bed Sharing, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bi John / Gay Demisexual Sherlock, Switchlock, Alternating POV, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Case Fic, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Love Making, Butt Plugs, Cuddles) – Our story begins right after John and Sherlock's first meeting with Irene Adler in September. It splits off into an AU that imagines them taking a case where they act as bait to hook a killer targeting closeted gays in secret relationships. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, many things happen that have our boys wondering if maybe they have a chance with each other. Then Irene fakes her death on Christmas Eve, and things get a lot more complicated - especially since they still have a killer to catch.
The Burning by SrebrnaFH (M, 60,658 w., 24 Ch. || Reverse Reichenbach, Suicide, Depression, Hurt Sherlock / John, Separation, BAMF John, Good Big Brother Mycroft, Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Fake Character Death, Rescue Mission, Reconciliation / Reunion, Hospitalization, Marriage Proposal, Illnesses, Physical Therapy, Happily Ever After) – Something went very, very wrong. John had seemed, if not happy, then reasonably content with his life. Sherlock had never predicted something like THIS might have happened. Not in his worst nightmares. He was the lousiest friend ever, apparently. At least Mycroft found him something to occupy his mind with, so that he didn't have to go back to 221B and stare at the walls and the chair, where John Watson would never sit again.
Being John Watson-ish by elwinglyre (E, 69,902 w., 17 Ch. || Bodysnatcher AU || Author John, Cranky Sherlock, Angst, Sexual Tension, First Kiss / Time, Falling in Love, BAMF John, Past Soldier John, Feelings, Inside Someone’s Brain, Shy Sherlock, Sherlock Loves John, POV Sherlock, Switchlock, Slow Burn, Internal Dialogue, Mental Turmoil) – When consulting detective Sherlock Holmes steps on one toe too many at a crime scene, he's consigned to a desk job in an archaic office on the seventh-and-a-half floor of the New Scotland Yard. It’s in this bleak office that Sherlock discovers a portal into the mind of renowned author John Watson. Grander than his mind palace, this new wonderland affords Sherlock new vistas of experimentation. To learn more about the mystery behind the portal, Sherlock seeks out and befriends Watson. But then it all goes wrong when others find the secret portal door—including the man whose brain he visits.
Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?
Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”  
The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Sussex, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Background Case Fic) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series
The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w., 36 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate Future AU || Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky Sherlock, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Oral Sex, Case Fic, Emotional Love Making, Bath Time Fun) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It's 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn't need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.
The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton  (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic / Meta Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Demisexual Sherlock, Holmes Family, John Whump, Gay Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Drug Addiction, Parenting, TFP is a Nightmare, Virgin Sherlock, Slow Burn, Minor Character Death, Switchlock, John’s Past, Sherlock’s Past, Eurus, Love Confessions) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own.
Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.
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Steve Rogers is a Monster
Yeah, that’s a hell of a title, isn’t it? Strap in, it only gets worse from here. 
(click here if you’d prefer to read this on AO3)
Forewarning, if you enjoyed the epilogue for Endgame, this particular essay is not for you - and no, I am not bashing the Steve/Peggy shippers, you are beautiful human beings who make the fandom brighter and I’m happy that at least someone in this fandom got the ending they wanted.
Additional warning: if you expect this to be another Civil War debate, you will also be disappointed. There has never been a measurement invented that can adequately describe how much I loathe the verbal dick measuring contest that seems to pass for human interaction between Tony Stark and Steve Rogers in this franchise. It’s not funny or entertaining - it’s exhausting, uncomfortable, and frankly it’s rather lazy writing.
This is about the very specific way that the epilogue in Endgame completely changed the way the character of Steve Rogers can be interpreted, and I don’t just mean the very illogical and contradictory way that time travel is explained, both in the movie itself and the fact that the writers and directors have two completely different views on how that worked out. 
I mean that the choice made by Steve Rogers in the very last minutes of that movie alters the way I view each and every one of his actions starting from The First Avenger and that alteration is exactly what I want to talk about, because whether you view it as deserving or not, what Steve does at the conclusion of Endgame was the most selfish thing humanly possible. Time is a thief, but somehow Steve managed to steal even more than Time.
Side note here: I understand that I am a completely biased Stucky shipper, a friend to Barnes and Noble, a Starbucks aficionado - sorry. Anyway, I’ve always believed that Steve and Bucky were destined blah blah blah, but I was never expecting a Stucky ending. Disney wasn’t going to do that, and I knew that, I wasn’t bothered that Steve and Bucky weren’t doing the smoochies by the end. But Bucky’s facial expression during those last minutes was gut-wrenching. Like...I have no idea what kind of cues the script and directors gave him, but in the future, please don’t ask Sebastian Stan to look sad unless you want soul-crushing devastation. It’s not Seb’s fault, his features are just arranged that way - but the fact that the editing staff allowed Sam to be sad though elated to be entrusted with the Shield and Bucky looked like his soul was being physically torn out of his body was an… interesting choice. 
Other side note: if you’re writing about time travel, I’m begging y’all to get your facts straight. Or just don’t write about time travel. It almost always sounds better on paper than it does on screen and it means that you’ve opened doors to more questions than you’ve probably got the answers for. I know this was about trying to set up the idea of the multiverse, I get that, but there were better and less messy ways to do that, and I know that because I’ve done it before. @Marvel: Let me write you a six-way orgy you fucking cowards~
By going back in time, Steve robbed Peggy of the future that would have been hers - not only that, he’s robbed her of even the chance of making the choice between those futures, because you honestly could not tell me with a straight face that Steve told her the complete truth of what he had done and she would be okay with him alternating the very course of the future. It doesn’t help his case that he has a history of not disclosing truths that he knows will be painful or inconvenient for other people in his life.
He robbed his loved ones - Sam, Bucky, Wanda - of the years they would have spent with him. Sure, he ‘came back’ after Peggy passed away, but they are adults in the prime of youth who knew him sixty years ago in his own time and he is an old, old man who has lived an entire life completely separated from them. He is practically a stranger with a name they know, but a history that no longer belongs to any of them - not even his oldest friend. They have him back, but judging from his age, they’ll be lucky to get even ten more years with him. Assuming of course, that any of them can stand to speak to him - I certainly couldn’t blame them if they tell him to go to hell and take his dad jokes with him. 
Steve has stolen away their friend and dropped off an elderly and dying near-stranger in his place, and this is treated by the writing (and the majority of the acting) as a wild and unexpected but not tragic event. 
Is it really that unexpected, though?
I recall seeing a Game of Thrones essay on Daenerys across my dash (I’m sorry, love, I don’t recall who you are since it’s not a fandom I’m in, but if someone knows who wrote that, please post the link!) which detailed how her ending in the series was foreshadowed many times by her penchant for bloody killings and her habit of surrounding herself with her own fawning friends.
Months after reading that, I had the thought: though Steve is never really shown thinking about Peggy after Civil War, except in a few scattered scenes in Endgame, was this foreshadowed? Whether you believe that his actions are justified or not, what Steve does is still, in the end, selfish at its very heart, and Steve Rogers is not a selfish person. 
Oh no, my dear friends and readers. Because taking this action has solidified and clarified Steve Rogers as the biggest and most selfish asshole in this whole universe.
Steve does not do the right thing, Steve does the thing that will most make him feel better. The fact that this often happens to be the right thing in the end is more the result of happy coincidence than any special sort of moral authority that the man holds. 
Rescuing Bucky Barnes and his fellow captives in a prisoner of war camp from being experimented on by an insane Nazi eugenicist? That was not a moral stand, that was endangering himself, Peggy Carter, and Howard Stark because he couldn’t handle the reality of his best friend being killed in war.
Sacrificing himself by putting the Valkyrie down in the Arctic Circle? That was not about sparing human lives, that was about Steve seeing his friend die right in front of him and not being able to deal with the grief. There were ways he could’ve prevented the plane from killing people without killing himself.
Trying to make Bucky remember who he was? And later on, saving him from the government agencies who wanted to hunt him down? Although, arguably, that last one is also just good common sense - Steve was already shown that government agencies could and were corrupted by HYDRA and he’d also seen how dangerous the Winter Soldier could be when unleashed. 
Steve did, I think, truly believe that this was the right thing to do, but it was also about keeping his connection - his very last, since Peggy had descended into dementia caused by Alzheimer’s before she ultimately died - to a past that for him, was only months or years ago, rather than decades. In some ways, this is completely understandable - Bucky might be the very last person left alive who truly knows who the real Steve Rogers is, because the rest of these people only know Captain America and we are consistently shown through multiple movies how uncomfortable this makes him.
This gets...considerably less and less understandable as we are shown Steve’s growing relationships with Natasha, Sam, Wanda - even Sharon, though she barely gets any screen time and they share the most awkward kiss I’ve ever seen - and indeed, what might be the most uncomfortable kiss in cinema history.
Side Note 3: This is made even more awkward by the director’s choice to have two of Steve’s friends watching them the whole time - seriously, who even does that? Why would you make them do that? Only sociopaths make out with their friends staring at them like that. It’s so fucking creepy - and don’t even get me fucking started on the fact that she’s also apparently his own niece. AHHHHH!
But we are shown, over and over again, that Steve is capable of building close meaningful relationships with people in the present. They don’t know his whole history, but they do know Steve Rogers rather than Captain America and they care about him deeply. 
Side Note 4: Notice that I don’t count Tony Stark among those people - despite this strangely persistent narrative that the various writers and directors tried to sell to the audience, Tony and Steve were not friends. They were never friends. They were colleagues at best, but these were two men who neither liked nor understood each other very well, but had to work together. And sometimes that’s okay, too. (Oh dear, I just gave the Stony fans a fit too, didn’t I? Sorry, guys. Enemies to Lovers is a great trope, I support you!)
But let’s set aside Steve’s gross betrayal of the people who loved him. We’ll also ignore the question of whether the motive for these good actions has tainted the actions themselves. Because even without questioning these, the conclusion of this story arc still transforms Steve into the biggest monster this franchise has. 
The very fundamental way that the writers and directors can’t agree on how the time travel mechanics in their own story work mean that Steve has just done one of two things and they range from shady and very questionable to absolutely fucking horrific. 
The first, that he’s created his own alternate universe to exist in, is morally dubious at best. Even the people who support this theory and liked the ending seem to feel that it wasn’t necessarily a ten out of ten on the moral goodness spectrum. They’ll say things like ‘he deserved to have his happy ending’. Even that phrasing seems to acknowledge that doing this was the opposite of the right thing. It just considers doing the wrong thing as being justified rather than horrifying. 
But let’s examine this first idea for a minute - even this, the more innocent of the two implications, means that rather than really processing his grief or dealing with the repeated tragedies and losses that have occured in his life, even as he was running group therapy sessions and grief counseling, Steve Rogers chose to escape his current life by creating an alternate universe that specifically allows he himself to live out his own fucking fantasies of the way his life should have turned out. 
That, in case you are not aware, is wildly fucked up. I thought I was playing pretty fast and loose with Steve’s characterization when I turned him into an extremely polite serial killer but as it turns out, I clearly just wasn’t setting the bar high enough, because that’s somehow even more fucked up than being an undercover child soldier with a small sadistic streak. 
Hm, and now I feel I should have been more creative there...
The second, and even more horrifying option, is that this older Steve Rogers has been in this world the whole time, watching as things unfolded just as we’ve seen over the past decade, taking ‘the slow way’ through time. 
Side Note 5: I do kind of understand why you would do it this way, because that’s really cool and shocking when you say that! Until you think about it for longer than three seconds and suddenly you realize…
Everything that has happened here, every tragedy and downfall these people experienced, happened because Steve Rogers lived his happily ever after with his beautiful wife and did absolutely nothing to stop it. He got to fuck Peggy Carter and watched as his wife built an empire of intelligence networks, knowing that her efforts were completely in vain because her agency was rotten to the core and he never told her.
Every horrifying act committed by HYDRA under the guise of SHIELD was permitted through Steve Rogers’ negligence. And that’s just the wider big-picture worldview, large and shocking, but not personal. 
What about the people that Steve claims to actually care about? 
This means that Steve lived his whole life in contentment with his wife and children while his best friend was physically and psychologically tortured for over seventy years and just...let that go. 
He allowed one friend to murder another in the nineties, when the Winter Soldier was sent after Howard and Maria Stark. Then their child was being advised by a greedy self-interested warmonger who paid terrorists to drag him off to be tortured and slaughtered, and Steve did nothing about that, either. 
Bruce Banner was exploited, experimented on, and made into a monster against his will in the failed pursuit of recreating what was done to Steve, resulting in billions of dollars in damage and dozens or even hundreds of lives lost, and Steve allowed that to happen, too. 
Like Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanov was physically and psychologically tortured for others to use her as a living weapon - except that this was probably happening to her since early childhood, and a man her future self loved and trusted implicitly did nothing to save her from this upbringing. 
The Maximoff twins are shown to have not wealthy but loving parents who are murdered in front of them and they both endure days of laying in the rubble of their ruined apartment, wondering if the bomb in their living room would go off and kill them. Later, they are taken in by HYDRA, experimented on, and recruited as child soldiers to the cause when they show signs of having supernatural powers. They start a series of events that result in the destruction of a major city and the loss of what is probably thousands of lives. Pietro is murdered while trying to help the Avengers to stop this, and Wanda suffers the loss of the very last living person she loved. None of these things seem to have bothered Future Steve. 
Steve “I can’t sit on the sidelines when I see a situation go sideways” Rogers, planted himself on that fucking sideline and observed for nearly eighty years as friends, colleagues, and his own wife were lied to, brainwashed, tortured, vilified, and hunted down like animals.
And then there Steve Rogers himself - not the Endgame Steve Rogers, the Steve Rogers who brought down a Nazi plane and will lie beneath the ice for seventy years while everything he knows disappear (mostly) innocent of these horrors, the life he would’ve lived stolen from him by a stranger with his name and his face from another universe.
What I’m saying here is that if you consider this idea for any amount of time, it took Steve Rogers less than ten minutes to become the most evil and disturbing figure in the entire MCU, only (not really tho) contested by Thanos himself. 
Gross and poorly reasoned libertarian ethics aside, Thanos genuinely believes that he did what he did for the sake of the entire population. It’s made fairly explicitly clear that Steve didn’t do this for anyone but himself. 
Call me crazy, but if everyone you know needs to suffer and multiple planet-wide devestations have to happen in order for you to get your happy ending, you might be the bad guy. 
Maybe I’m just old-fashioned?
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maladjusted-nerd · 3 years
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Starsky and Hutch’s Girlfriends (and Their Hair Color)
[PBS announcer voice] This post is brought to you by the time I was reading The Ollie Report for Bounty Hunter and came across the memorable line: “Again, Starsky is drawn to the dark-haired girl, Hutch to the blonde. Exogamists they are not.”
These are the two ladies in question, respectively:
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I thought of this quote a lot as I continued watching the show, because it was quite often relevant. But then I got to Starsky’s Lady, and suddenly Hutch’s date wasn’t a blonde! I began to wonder about the quote, and the truth of the sentiment behind it (which is by no means specific to that one blog). Did Hutch really tend to go for the blondes, and Starsky for the dark-haired women?
So like any sane person, I decided to spend a billion hours of my life making a long-ass photo-heavy meta post that hopefully someone will care about. If anyone actually finds this information interesting or useful I will be happy, buuut I guess if nothing else it gives us an excuse to look at a bunch of pretty ladies.
How did I decided who’s here: I started with the list of women from the Canon Compendium’s Girlfriends and Dates page, added anyone whom I felt the boys made a “concerted effort” to flirt with, and then threw out a few people I didn’t think belonged. I tried my hardest to be objective, but making this list was by no means an exact science and several times it really just boiled down to “do I personally believe she should be on here” so like people will have different opinions on that and it’s fine! Spice of life or whatever.
As for the actual contents of the list: I will state each woman’s name and the episode she’s in. (If she doesn’t have a name she’s listed as Jane Doe. This is a cop show, after all.) I will state her hair color-- for Reasons and also My Sanity the only options are “blonde” or “darkhaired” (not blonde), but hair color is fucking weird and sometimes it was a guess so feel free to think otherwise. I will also state the reason that she’s here, aka the nature of her relationship with Hutch or Starsky (or both)-- so spoiler warning for pretty much everything, I guess.
Also fair warning that sometimes I was too lazy to get a good picture, or it was just actually impossible (newsflash: discos have bad lighting). Rip to any women I may have made look bad, you’re all beautiful queens and I love you.
Pre-Show
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Vanessa (Hutchinson Murder One)- Darkhaired. Hutch’s late ex-wife and all-around terrible person.
Laura Kanen (Deckwatch)- Blonde. Hutch’s ex-girlfriend.
Helen Davidson (Lady Blue)- Blonde. Starsky’s late ex-girlfriend.
Kathy Marshall (Fatal Charm)- Darkhaired. A stewardess friend of theirs; it’s never said she’s an ex BUT she kisses Hutch square on the mouth in greeting and is Starsky’s date for dinner/disco. And she dances with both of them. Good enough for me!
Season 1
Hutch
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Jeannie Walton (The Fix)- Blonde. His girlfriend at the start of the episode but not by the end! (Rip king)
Molly (Pariah)- Darkhaired. Stewardess friend/one-night stand? Something like that. Also his date at the end.
Jane Doe (Deadly Imposter)- Blonde. His date at the party.
Abigail Crabtree (Deadly Imposter to Vendetta)- Blonde. The only girlfriend we see in several episodes!! (The only girlfriend that lasts several episodes, whoops.)
Starsky
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Jane Doe (Pariah)- Blonde. His date at the end.
Jane Doe (Deadly Imposter)- Darkhaired. His date at the party.
Amy (The Hostages)- Darkhaired. She works at a café that he’s going to for a second time, to let her know he’s ~available.
Sharman Crane (Running)- Darkhaired. They had a semester of woodshop together in junior high and then they kind of fall in love while he’s helping her dry out.
Season 2
Hutch
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Abby (Deadly Imposter to Vendetta)- Still blonde. Miraculously still his girlfriend. (Until she isn’t.)
Gillian Ingram (Gillian)- Blonde. His now-late girlfriend who fucking deserved better.
Jane Doe (Gillian)- Blonde. Lady at the bowling alley that Starsky discreetly tries to set him up with.
Christine (Starsky’s Lady)- Darkhaired. His date of the episode.
Starsky
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Vicky (The Las Vegas Strangler)- Darkhaired. They don’t really get a chance to go on an official date but they kiss a bunch and he’s really sweet on her and it’s cute.
Andrea (Vendetta)- Darkhaired. His picnic date.
Nancy Rogers (Gillian)- Darkhaired. His bowling date.
Terry Roberts (Starsky’s Lady)- Darkhaired. His now-late girlfriend who, like Gillian, also fucking deserved better.
Laura Stevens (The Velvet Jungle)- Blonde. They’re on a date at the end, but it should also be noted they meet when she accidentally knocks him into a dumpster. You know, like the start of any good romance.
Sharon Freemont (Starsky and Hutch Are Guilty)- Blonde. His evil lawyer girlfriend. (Not that he knows she’s evil.)
Both
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Jane and Bobette (The Vampire)- Jane is the blonde on the right, Bobette is the darker blonde on the left. Starsky and Hutch mix up their names so it’s hard to tell which girl they actually like better, and also they’re twins so like does it even really matter?
Officer Sally Hagen (The Specialist)- Darkhaired. Starsky kisses up her arm in her first scene (someone please file a workplace harassment suit against him), and then at the end he and Hutch keep wrapping their arms around her waist. But she does get to flip both of them over her shoulder, so it kinda evens out.
Season 3
Hutch
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Dianna Harmon (Fatal Charm)- Darkhaired. His possessive, violent nurse girlfriend. (You can really pick ‘em, Hutchinson.)
Dr. Judith Kaufman (The Plague)- Darkhaired. He tries so hard, but twas not meant to be.
Molly Bristol (The Collector)- Darkhaired. His girlfriend du jour.
Anna Akhanatova (A Body Worth Guarding)- Blonde. He’s technically her bodyguard and then they spend like two whole days making out. Good for them.
Mary (Class in Crime)- Blonde. His fishing date.
Starsky
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Jane Doe (Murder on Playboy Island)- Darkhaired. Undercover agent he flirts with at the bar.
Rosey Malone (I Love You Rosey Malone)- Blonde. The entire plot revolves around him falling in love with her and it really doesn’t end well.
Jane Doe (The Collector)- Darkhaired. His date at their late-night deli party. (Bonus Starsky in the picture, hi Starsky!)
Sharon Carstairs (The Heavyweight)- Blonde. Their canoodling on his couch gets interrupted by Important Case Matters, and she winds up getting re-engaged to her ex-fiancé (ex-ex-fiancé?). Rip to a king.
Rachel (Class in Crime)- Darkhaired. His fishing date.
Caitlin (Class in Crime)- Her hair almost has a red tint but it’s otherwise undefinable. Car saleslady/one-night stand.
K.C. McBride (Quadromania)- Blonde. They have a nice taxi date (although he’s been sleep deprived all episode, poor boy, and falls asleep).
Both
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Christine Phelps (The Heroes)- Blonde. She makes them lose all their braincells, it’s painful to witness. This episode hopes you will forget the actress was Gillian last season.
Julie McDermott (The Action)- Blonde. Starsky wins the kerfuffle for her but Hutch definitely makes a good go of it.
Lisa Kendricks (Foxy Lady)- Blonde. They drool and fight over her for half an episode like they did with Christine and it’s embarrassing.
Season 4
Hutch
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Paula (Photo Finish)- Darkhaired. He’s like her date at the party, and also the end.
Kate Larrabee (Cover Girl)- Darkhaired. An old friend of his. It starts out just as a comfort thing but they quickly become very friendly.
Marlene (Starsky’s Brother)- Darkhaired. Starsky steals her from Nicky as a Big Brother Power Move but Hutch winds up with her at the bar.
Marianne Owens (Ballad for a Blue Lady)- Darkhaired. I don’t really know what’s going on here but there’s Something (and there’s a lot of parallels with Rosey Malone, so).
Starsky
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Sergeant Lizzie Thorpe (Discomania)- Blonde. Technically Hutch talks with her more, but Starsky does most of the flirting.
Jane Doe (Discomania)- Darkhaired. He spends literally five minutes dancing with her. Is it relevant to the case? No. Does he care? Also no.
Emily Harrison (Blindfold)- Darkhaired. He accidentally blinds her during a case so he starts hanging out with her out of guilt but I feel like he also kinda falls in love; they kiss at one point anyway.
Marcie Fletcher (Photo Finish)- Blonde. His photographer girlfriend.
Officer Dee O’Reilly (Strange Justice)- Blonde. His meter maid girlfriend. They have a date at the end!
Jane Doe (Dandruff)- Darkhaired. He’s making out with her at the beginning.
Detective Joan Meredith (Black and Blue)- Darkhaired. It’s Heavily implied they slept together. (Side note love u Meredith!)
Melinda Rogers (The Groupie)- Blonde. He has a date with her at the end. (Yeah she slept with Hutch, but he was undercover and proceeds to lowkey rebuff her in the tag, so I’m not counting it.)
Katie (Starsky’s Brother)- Blonde. His date at the nightclub.
Both
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Allison May/Laura Anderson (Targets Without a Badge parts 2 & 3)- Darkhaired. They both try to court her before Starsky realizes she’s his childhood friend (although they do make another go of it in the tag).
Kira (Starsky vs Hutch)- Blonde. Starsky’s girlfriend, although she says she’s also in love with Hutch so then they sleep together which Starsky is NOT thrilled about and it’s a very ugly mess.
Totals:
Hutch:
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Pre-show: 3 (1 blonde, 2 dark)   Season 1: 4 (3 blonde, 1 dark)   Season 2: 6 (4 blonde, 2 dark)   Season 3: 8 (5 blonde, 3 dark)   Season 4: 6 (1 blonde, 5 dark) Overall: 26 (13 blonde, 13 dark)
(If the math looks weird, it’s cause Abigail counts for both seasons she’s in but only once overall.)
Starsky:
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Pre-show: 2 (1 blonde, 1 dark)   Season 1: 4 (1 blonde, 3 dark)   Season 2: 8 (3 blonde, 5 dark)   Season 3: 10 (6 blonde, 3 dark, 1 ??)   Season 4: 11 (6 blonde, 5 dark) Overall: 35 (17 blonde, 17 dark, 1 ??)
(Thirty-five?? Calm the fuck down, Starsky.)
  In conclusion:
“Exogamists, they are not” might have been true back at the end of season 1 when it was said, but it’s certainly not true by season 4/the end of the series. Hutch now seems to favor dark-haired women, and Starsky’s about half and half, although they both wind up with an equal split overall.
Do with that information what you will; I’m outta here.
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amyscascadingtabs · 4 years
Text
when all your heroes get tired (i’ll be something better yet)
She realizes Jake and Amy have never gotten to keep anything about their relationship secret; not their pining, not becoming a couple, not getting engaged, or even trying for a baby. She supposes they deserve to keep something to themselves for once, even if they’re worthless at it.
Or, Rosa has always been strangely involved in Jake and Amy's relationship, and the two of them becoming parents doesn't appear to change this.
read on ao3 ✨
...
“You’re really not going to drink that?”
Amy gives the glass of Shaw’s finest - and only - charbonnay a look like she's worried it will bite her.
They’re having a celebration, Holt has announced, to one month without Madeline Wuntch. Then he’d seemed teary by those words, telling the squad it was also to honor her memory. No one’s certain what's going on, but no one minds the free alcohol either.
Except, it seems, Amy.
 “I’m driving.”
“Don't you and Jake always take an Uber home?”
“We’re trying to save money.”
“For what?”
“Fertility treatments are expensive,” she says, too quickly and too comfortably. “I don't want to talk about it, Rosa.”
  Rosa knows she’s being rude, but she can't help it. She had to be sure. She’s both a detective and a master of secret-keeping, skilled enough to sense from fifty feet away when someone else is guarding them, and she's had a feeling about this particular secret for weeks.
  She’d give herself credit, but it’s not like it’s been difficult to figure out. Amy literally told Rosa the day after she and Jake decided to start trying, whispering the words to her with a giddy smile as soon as they were alone in the break room. It became public knowledge rather quickly, and it’s not like the couple was working hard on keeping it a secret when they got wasted during Hitchcock’s wedding, high-fived after Amy’s drunken toast, and proceeded to try and fuck in the guinea pig-closet.
(Honestly? Rosa was impressed.)
  They took a break from it shortly after that. Then, Amy started eating some kind of hormonal stimulation medication and morphed into one of the most emotional, irritable Amy-s Rosa had ever seen. Then she got weird.
  It started with her and Jake avoiding Shaw’s. Sometimes Jake would show up to have a drink or two with Charles, but he'd never stay longer than half an hour. Terry asked about it once, joking that he wondered whether Amy just didn't like the squad anymore, at which point Jake laughed nervously and changed the topic.
Now, Rosa’s noticed that Amy’s coffee intake has gone down from three or four cups a day to one and a half at max. She makes a point of sitting as far away from Boyle and his lunches as possible. She’s begun to seem distant, always slightly distracted in conversation, and she gravitates towards Jake even more than usual. Several times now, Rosa’s found them in a corner of the corridor, whispering together and stopping the moment they notice her.
  So yeah, she’s figured their secret out alright, and no, she doesn’t believe they’re planning to adopt a monitor lizard and that’s why Jake was searching baby names on his computer the other day.
  What Rosa doesn’t understand is why Amy doesn’t tell her. She can keep a secret. She was the one who bought every kind of pregnancy test she could find in the bodega when Amy was freaking out at the manhunt, and the one who listened when she finally admitted that trying to conceive was starting to stress her out. If Amy can share something so personal with her, venting her little heart out over a drink in a lone corner of Shaw’s late one evening, Rosa doesn't get why she can't share this.
  “So you're doing the treatments, then?”
“I just said I don't want to talk about it,” Amy snaps, then sighs and leans her head in one hand. “Sorry. Tired.”
“You’ve taken a bunch of days off recently, haven't you?”
“I had a family emergency,” she says, and Rosa knows she's lying through her teeth. No one ever uses that line when they're really having a family emergency. “Hey, why are you interrogating me?”
“Just making conversation,” Rosa shrugs. If Amy can lie, so can she. “You want a soda or something instead?”
“I’m good. Thanks for the gesture, though.” She lifts the wine glass in her hand, still looking at it warily. “I’ll just... give this to Jake. Talk to you later?”
“Sure. Later.”
Amy gives her a careful smile, sliding off the barstool and heading towards the table where Jake has joined Terry, Sharon, and the Captain. Rosa watches as Jake makes space for her, his whole demeanor lighting up when he sees her. She places the glass next to his beer, whispering something underneath her breath, and Jake nods before taking it from her and swallowing half of it in quick sips. It’s not even subtle, Rosa thinks.
  She's just about to wonder where Charles is and why he isn’t in that same booth asking overly invasive questions when he joins her on the same barstool Amy just left.
“Hey, Ro-ro.” He must’ve had a few drinks already, she deduces from the nickname.
“I’ve told you never to call me that unless you want your tires slashed.”
Charles ignores her. “You're noticing it too, right? With Amy?”
“You mean her acting even weirder than normal? Yep. Pretty sure everyone’s noticed.”
An elated grin appears on Charles’ face, so wide it shows his teeth. Rosa scrunches her nose. “I think I know why.”
“It’s really not hard to guess.”
“That's not why I know!” The shrill, drunken voice earns them a confused glance from Jake, and Rosa shoots Charles a warning glare to make him lower his volume. “Sorry,” he whispers. “It's just - I woke up one night, and I knew.”
“That you're unhealthily obsessed with your best friend's marriage and it's creepy?”
“Pfft. No. I already knew that. I woke up, and I could feel it. Amy’s -”
“Pregnant, yeah. We all figured it out.”
“I can sense it, Rosa.” He gives her a serious nod, the eye contact almost unnerving. “This is not about some groundless guess, some circumstantial evidence… this is real.”
“... yeah. So?”
“So? So! We have to tell them we know! I don't understand why they're keeping this to themselves!”
  Rosa bites her lip. She knows where Charles is coming from. She was thinking it too, watching her best friend get nervous just from holding a glass of wine and scrambling to come up with a fake excuse to avoid it. She doesn't get why this has to be a secret. Everybody knows they've been trying, and it's so obvious something is up that even Hitchcock and Scully seem to be taking notice at this point. She could walk over to that table right now and tell Jake and Amy she knows, everyone knows, and they don’t have to pretend or keep this a secret when everyone is happy for their sake.
And yet Rosa stays where she is, because while she laughs at their futile attempts of keeping it on the down-low, she knows why.
  It feels like it’s never going to happen at this point, Amy had whispered to her just two months ago. Like it’s not meant to be.
That’s bullshit, Rosa replied, but Amy shook her head.
  She knows this has been a long journey for Jake and Amy. She also knows the fear that comes with gaining something you’ve spent a long time fighting for, then worrying that the universe is messing with you, and you’ll wake up tomorrow finding it was all a dream. There’s a reason Rosa’s kept nearly all her relationships secret until her partners have been begging to meet the squad, and it goes beyond her just being a private person.
  She realizes Jake and Amy have never gotten to keep anything about their relationship secret; not their pining, not becoming a couple, not getting engaged, or even trying for a baby. She supposes they deserve to keep something to themselves for once, even if they’re worthless at it.
  “We can’t tell them we know,” she decides. Charles opens his mouth to protest, but Rosa hushes him.
“But -”
“Nope, Boyle. Look, I get that it's obvious, but it's their choice. Just because you told everyone the moment you decided to adopt doesn't mean Jake has to tell every perp he arrests that he's going to be a dad.”
Charles looks down at his shoes and swallows the last of his free wine. “I just want to celebrate with them. Seven years I’ve waited for this - ”
“You’ll get to celebrate with them. They can't keep it a secret forever. Maybe they're just waiting until the twelve-week mark or something.” Rosa takes a swig of her whiskey. “It can't be that much longer anyway. She's going to start showing at some point, right? Makes no sense to hide it from us after that. I mean, what’s she going to do? Wear a hazmat suit?”
Charles sighs. “Yeah, yeah. You're right.”
  He gives Jake and Amy a longing look. Jake has his arm around Amy now, and she’s resting her head on his shoulder, eyes closed like she’s moments from falling asleep. Jake whispers something to her, lips brushing against her forehead, and she blinks before mumbling something back. Small, tender gestures of affection, the kind that would drive Rosa crazy if it was anyone else, but ones she’s gotten used to with them. After the stress and lack of romance Amy described to her during the months they were trying, it even makes her happy to see.
  It must be making Charles happy, too, because he’s tearing up.
“Anyway,” he says before Rosa can tell him to stop crying. “I’m going to go vent about this over the phone to Genevieve so I don’t go crazy. Good talk, Ro-ro.”
“Don’t”, she warns him, but he’s already halfway out the door.
  Jake and Amy stand up only a minute after, grabbing their jackets and saying their goodbyes. Amy meets eyes with Rosa for a second, mouthing a quick bye, and Rosa nods in return. She watches them as they make their way out of the bar, arms still around each other, and hides a smile when she sees Jake’s hand rest softly against Amy’s stomach through her sweater. It's only a second before Amy moves it away, looking around in fear that someone will have noticed, but it’s enough for Rosa to know.
She might be a good detective, but Jake and Amy also happen to be the world’s worst secret-keepers.
          ...
 There was more than one reason as to why Rosa Diaz dropped out of medical school, but right now, as she’s flipping through the pages of the very detailed and very graphic book she found on Jake’s desk, she can only remember the one.
  It was the second day on her final rotation in third year - obstetrics and gynecology - and for some reason, her supervisor thought it’d be a useful and educational experience for her to be part of a birth. She wouldn't have to do anything, just observe and learn. Not one to complain, Rosa had accepted, put on her gloves, and entered the delivery room with a forced upbeat smile on her face.
  At the end of the day, that smile had since long been wiped off, as had what felt like a bucket of blood, goo, and other equally gross, slimy stuff. Also, Rosa had dropped out of medical school.
She’d observed during surgeries, been puked on by sick and screaming children, and once met a patient with a broken arm where the bone was sticking out, but childbirth had been the final straw. Three years of medical school and thousands of dollars in student debt went down the drain. She applied to business school in hopes of making up the money and told herself she hadn’t been that crazy about med school in the end. Having to put on a smile and be polite to needy patients wasn’t her thing anyway, and at least in business school, people were upfront about being jerks.
  Sixteen years had passed since the day Rosa almost threw up from watching the so-called miracle of life. Tonight, it seemed she was about to unwillingly witness it again.
  A drawn-out, pained moan brings Rosa back to reality, where Amy has since long given up all attempts of hiding her contractions. She glances at her watch, grimacing as she realizes it's the third contraction in five minutes coming to an end. Amy's started leaning with her elbows on the pool table for the duration of them, muttering a creative string of curses in mixed English and Spanish, and it might have looked funny if it wasn't seeming like this baby was about to be born in the break room.
  “Fuck this shit,” Amy mumbles, and Rosa can only agree. “Fuck everything about this. This wasn't how it was supposed to - fuck.” She goes down on her elbows again, swaying from side to side. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Well worded.”
“Shut up.”
“They're getting worse?”
“Mm-hmm.”
All traces of the confident sergeant that insisted she didn’t need to go to the hospital, who’s spent the blackout answering every offer to help with a razor-sharp remark about how they could help her best by following her orders, seem to have disappeared. When Amy exhales, Rosa can see tears in her eyes, a reserved expression of panic amid the frustration.
“This wasn’t how it was supposed to be,” she repeats as she sits down on the well-stained couch. “Look. I wasn’t even that picky, okay? I didn’t need a super wholesome and peaceful dream experience or anything. As long as everything went well, the baby was okay and I was okay. But I wanted a hospital,” she sniffles. “And I wanted Jake there. I didn’t think that was too much to a-aa…”
She leans against the side of the couch this time, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth through another contraction. Rosa feels helpless. It’s not a feeling she has often, and it’s not one she's a fan of. She reaches out to gently pat Amy’s back, but it feels awkward, so she stops.
  “It wasn’t too much to ask,” she says. “But you’re not going to make it to the hospital. So we're going to need another plan.”
“The firefighters.” Amy blushes. “I know we hate them, but…”
“They’re basically a bunch of glorified EMTs who sleep in bunk beds. Meaning, they can deliver a baby in an emergency.”
Amy nods, drawing a shaky breath and rubbing her hand against the top of her stomach. “I don’t want to do this to him, Rosa.”
“What do you mean?”
“What if this doesn’t go well? What if he won’t be okay? What if something happens and it’s my fault because I couldn’t go to the hospital? What if this makes me a terrible mom?”
Amy’s eyes are wide and she’s chewing on her lip, and Rosa thinks she would start braiding her hair if it wasn't already in a messy ponytail. Most of her worries sound like straight-up insanity to Rosa’s ears, but she supposes that wouldn’t be the right thing to tell Amy at this moment.
“You think you’re the first woman ever to give birth outside of a hospital?” She asks instead. “Because you’re not. That baby’s going to be fine. He’ll probably plop right out onto the floor -”
“Oh my god, don't let him touch the floor!”
“Fine. No floor. Whatever. But you can do this.” She stares right back at Amy and channels all the persuasion she has inside of her. “Okay?”
Amy hiccups. “I don’t like it.”
“Yeah, well, neither do I.”
  Amy groans and stands up to lean against the pool table again, doing the same rhythmic swaying with her hips. A uniformed officer gives her a curious look as he walks past.
“It’s what we’re doing, though. So get it together.” Rosa regrets it the moment she says it and Amy freezes. For a split second, Rosa wonders if she’s going to punch her, or at the very least yell something, but Amy just looks surprised before letting out a noise sounding vaguely like a cackle.
“Did you just tell me to get it together?”
“No. Yes. Maybe.” Rosa shakes her head. “Just - stay here while I go get a firefighter. Try not to give birth while I’m gone.”
  Three firefighters are still hanging around the bullpen, drinking coffee from paper cups and laughing at some anecdote. Rosa scrunches her nose at them from a distance. She wonders why she didn't force Amy into a car to the hospital hours ago, but it's too late now. No matter how much she hates the fire department and how humiliating she finds it to have to ask for their help twice in one day, she loves her friend just that little bit more. Marginally, but still more.
In an ideal world, Rosa would have wished a luxurious birthing suite with a wide range of pain relief, some nerdy relaxing music like the Harry Potter soundtrack, skillful doctors, and Jake there for her best friend to go through something as terrible as labor with - but since none of that seems to be in the realm of possibility anymore, the least she can do is make sure there’s some kind of a medical professional there. She owes Amy that much.
  Rosa grabs the arm of the firefighter standing closest to her. He’s short but muscular with a beard that reminds her of a childhood best friend’s stay-at-home dad, giving out a caring and reliable energy in the midst of the precinct’s inferno. He feels safe, and although Rosa’s never given birth herself, she imagines that’s a valuable trait for the situation.
“Need any help?” Even his smile is like taken out of a pamphlet for parent cooperatives and terrace-houses with collective barbeques.
“I do. Have you ever delivered a baby before?”
“Oh, that's a funny story!” He chuckles. “I’ve actually delivered three. They're great stories, you should hear -”
“Cool, cool, cool, don't have time, don't care. Wanna deliver a fourth? Like, tonight? Right now?”
Without waiting for a reply, she drags him to the break room.
  Judging from the strained expression and eyes clenched shut, Amy’s in the middle of a contraction when they return.
“I found a firefighter.” Rosa points to their new companion. “This is, uhm -”
“Curt.”
“Huh. Anyway, he's delivered three babies before, and they're all fine. Well, I think. He can help. Right?”
“Absolutely!” Curt nods. “You’re Amy, right? Tell me where we're at.”
“Contractions at one to one and a half minute apart, lasting about thirty to forty seconds,” Rosa fills in for her friend, pointing to her watch.
“Can you talk through them?” Curt looks to Amy, who shakes her head with her lips pressed together before exhaling.
“Not anymore. There's -” She screws up her face. “Ouf. Pressure.”
“Pressure like you need to push?” Curt’s voice is calm, even though Rosa can't for the life of her understand how. Amy nods shortly.
Rosa stares at her. “Are you sure?”
Amy stares back with a death glare, and Rosa holds up her hands in retreat.
“Okay, not going to question you on that. Cool.”
“Well, that answers my question,” says Curt, the most cheerful one in the room by far. “I’ll get my emergency kit and we'll make some space on the couch. Let's do this!”
  “I'm scared,” Amy whispers once they're alone again. Her timid voice is a sharp contrast to her earlier groans and screams. Rosa looks at her and sees the same Amy she comforted during long nights when Jake was in Florida, the Amy that shines through every time her husband's in danger again, no matter how hard she tries to suppress it. Rosa's never been great at comforting, but she could never leave her best friend like this. That instinct is just enough to overpower some of her hate for the situation.
“I know,” she says, stroking away a few pearls of sweat from Amy’s forehead. “But you’re going to be okay.”
“You really think so?”
She nods, and it seems to be a relief to Amy, who manages a tentative smile in return. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
  In the end, it’s probably Hitchcock and Scully - and maybe Lieutenant Peanut Butter - who end up being the most unlikely heroes of the day, but when the ambulance finally arrives to relieve her of her duties, Rosa’s still pretty damn proud of herself.
  If only Dr. Mervin could have seen me now, she thinks as she burns the afterbirth-covered outfit, remembering the snarky supervisor who had simply nodded and shut the office door in her face when Rosa told her she would be dropping out.
  She’s never, ever, delivering a baby again, though.
        ...
        Rosa’s not crazy, so she waits a few days after Jake and Amy come home from the hospital before she asks to visit.
Even then, she’s careful. She remembers how militant Gina was with her minimal-visitors policy after Iggy was born, how she demanded everyone who came brought food and offered to clean up because she ‘sure as hell wasn’t doing any of that crap five days after pushing a living human out of her vagina’, and the last thing she wants is to be a nuisance to two new parents who are probably exhausted as is.
  Mac is a week old the day Rosa texts Jake and Amy to ask if she can come over. She assures them that it's okay if they're too tired, that she can bring food if they want, but it's only ten minutes before Amy's replied Not necessary, you're always welcome and Jake's added Mac misses his auntie Ro-Ro. The nickname makes her touched, and she wonders briefly who she's become.
  She brings food anyway, a hearty chicken stew made from a family recipe, plus a batch of oatmeal cookies; she’s got manners, and, well, she's not an animal.
  It's Jake who opens. He looks surprised to see her, even though they were just texting hours ago.
“Hey, Diaz.” He can't have washed his hair in a while. It looks crazy, curls and tufts sticking up in random patterns, it doesn't look like he's shaved and his outfit seems taken from the days when they worked that apartment murder that drove them both insane. At least he’s wearing pants this time. Sweatpants, but Rosa supposes he's got an excuse.
“Amy's in the bedroom with Mac,” he explains before she can ask. “They were napping, but I just heard him start crying and instantly go quiet again, so now I’m guessing they’re nursing. They’ll be out soon.”
“It’s fine,” she assures him. “I came to see you, too.”
  She’d expected their apartment to be way messier, but it looks surprisingly neat. The dining table has been taken over by flowers and greeting cards, there are bottles drying next to the sink and a baby swing next to the armchair, but the space is still tidy. Rosa’s impressed, and a little worried about Amy.
“I brought food,” she says, putting the first container on the kitchen counter.
“Oh my god, you did? I’m sure it's even edible!” Jake lights up. “Charles has given us loads too, but, y’know. I love him, but he's Charles, and anything he cooks is also… Charles.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Yeah.” He gives the chicken stew a closer look, poking at the plastic lid. “This looks great. Thanks, Rosa.”
“You're welcome.”
He smiles, a yawn following suit that he makes no effort to hide. Rosa feels bad for him, but it looks pretty funny, like his mouth is about to stretch into an abyss before he's done.
“Tired?”
“I’ll be real with you, I have not slept in a while. You want coffee?”
“Dude, it's 8 p.m.”
“Excellent observation, Diaz. Would you mind explaining that to my son?” Something in his expression changes when he says the word son. There’s a pride in his voice as he pronounces it, weighing the syllable like he can’t get enough. “I love him more than anything, but wow, he’s a shit sleeper. You want tea instead?” Jake's already digging in a cabinet. “We have, uhm… Earl Grey, lemon, and something called lactation tea. Maybe you don’t want that.” He sniffs the jar. “Smells pretty good, though. Don’t knock it ‘til you try it?”
“Lemon’s fine. Oh, and I’ve got cookies, too.”
“Who are you?”
  “I gotta say, I thought your place would be chaos.” They’ve brought their cups to the couch, where Jake is already on his third cookie and getting crumbs all over the blue flannel. “I’m impressed.”
“Well, my wife is a superhero.” Rosa raises a brow, and he quickly adds, “fine, I’ve done most of this, just so she doesn’t have to stress over it. And my mom was here yesterday. The first thing still stands, though.”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks for being there with her,” he says, and the gravity in his tone takes her by surprise.
“I did nothing,” she mumbles. “You would have done a much better job. Maybe she would have even listened to you if you’d told her to go to the hospital.”
“I wouldn’t be so certain about that. She can be pretty…”
“Obstinate?”
“I was going to say determined, but sure. Sometimes.” Jake shakes his head. “I say that with love. Anyway, I’m glad it was you. Can you imagine if it had been Charles? She might have killed the man, which would have put such a damper on the whole night, don’t you think? Nah. You were great.”
He meets her eyes again as he says it, and Rosa looks away. She’s rarely one to appreciate flattery, but after the intensity of the situation and the slight guilt she felt afterward over not being the source of calm medical school taught her she should be - some of it’s welcomed.
“Sorry your son had to be delivered by a firefighter.”
“Yeah, that’s tragic, isn’t it?” Jake laughs. “But you helped, too. That’s a pretty cool story to tell Mac about his aunt Rosa one day. I know you hated it, but thank you for staying with her.”
“I wouldn’t have left her.”
“I know.”
  Neither of them says anything else in response. She can tell what he means anyway, and knows he can do the same with her. She forgets, sometimes, how long she’s known him; longer than she’s known anyone else at the precinct. She still remembers the goofy student who was restless in a classroom but always sharp as a knife during practical training, the guy she met her first day at the Academy and immediately took a liking to; not just because he seemed like the type who didn’t care about her past or personal life, but also because he was passionate. About Die Hard, taking down bad guys, and about making the people around him feel better, not that he would have confessed the last part.
  She still remembers one morning during their second month of the Academy, when she’d arrived at training red-eyed after a bad fight with her boyfriend at the time. Without asking what had happened, Jake spent the entire day pointing out every detail he thought had a chance of making her snicker, and by the end of the day, she’d forgotten about the fight. He’s still the same, she thinks. A few years older, more emotionally mature, and less insistent on dying a heroic death while saving the city from a terrorist attack - but the thoughtfulness and the need to make sure the people he loves are safe and taken care of remains the same.
  Rosa hears steps in the hallway, accompanied by what sounds like the shy whining Arlo does when he’s hiding after doing something naughty, and looks up to see Amy. She’s holding Mac against her chest and stroking his back through the baby pink blanket, but he’s still fussing a little. Jake jumps up faster than Rosa knew the man could move, and she watches as the couple exchanges the infant between their arms with so much carefulness. They look practiced, but in a way where they don’t trust it about themselves, where the confidence doesn’t yet match the skill.
“Diaper change?” Jake asks, and Amy nods. “Amazing. Dad duty calls,” he grins, disappearing with Mac to the nursery.
“You make him do all the diaper changes?” Rosa asks as Amy joins her on the couch.
“Almost. I did the hard work, he’s gotta catch up.” She reaches for Jake’s cup, swallowing the last of the lukewarm coffee. “And he offers.”
  Amy looks far more exhausted now than when Rosa last saw her in the hospital, the bags under her eyes not even hidden by makeup and her ponytail frizzy. She's wearing sweatpants again and the same flannel and shirt-combo as Jake, only hers is pink and not blue. Rosa wonders if their coordination is intentional or simple habit.
“So… how are you doing?”
It's not a question she asks often, but this time, she cares about the answer.
“I’m so tired,” Amy fires back the second Rosa finishes her sentence, like she's been bursting to complain over it. “Sore. Crying at everything. We’re just trying to figure it out.” She sighs, and then she gets a smile on her lips. “But it’s good. He's objectively the best, most wonderful baby ever.”
“Worth it?”
“Yeah, but that was never a question.”
  Jake returns from the diaper change with Mac, who still doesn't quite seem content where he squirms in his father's arms, instantly gaining Amy's attention.
“Clean baby, still not happy,” Jake reports. “Maybe he didn't finish eating?”
“Could be,” Amy says, stretching out her arms to take him. “I’ll see if he's still hungry. You can go take a shower if you want. I’ve got Rosa.”
“Do I need to shower?”
“Yes, babe, you do.”
Jake grimaces, but he's off to the bathroom as soon as Amy returns her focus to the baby in her arms. Mac’s turning his whole body against her chest like it couldn't be clearer what he's after, and Amy sighs as she starts unbuttoning the flannel.
“You don't mind, right?”
“Why would I mind? You're feeding your baby,” Rosa shrugs. “I’ve seen a lot worse, if you remember. I think I can handle accidentally catching a glimpse of your boob.”
Amy blushes. “Guess you’ve got a point.”
  It takes them a minute, Amy talking to her son in a low, soothing voice as he keeps tensing and fussing before he catches on. Rosa looks away, wanting to give them some privacy, but she can hear the moment Mac starts suckling and the sigh of relief that follows from Amy.
“There you go,” she says. “We just need to relax, and we’re good.”
  There’s a tenderness even to the way she speaks to him, like love is packed into each word. Rosa thinks of the way Amy hid her pregnancy for months in fear that something would go wrong, and how scared she was that giving birth under less than ideal circumstances would somehow make her a bad mom. She doesn’t seem as scared anymore. Rather, there’s an air of quiet confidence over her when she’s holding him, and it’s moving to see.
“Slow down, McClane,” she whispers, thumb stroking over his cheek. “I know you’re hungry, but if you keep going like that, you’re going to puke, okay? We’ve been through this.”
“I’m proud of you,” the words spill out of Rosa, and Amy blinks.
“You’re proud of me?”
“Yeah, I’m proud of you.” A shy smile flutters across Amy’s lips. “But if you ever have another kid, I’m not going near you a month before you’re due, okay? I’ll transfer precincts or something. Never again.”
Amy laughs, but Rosa just stares at her, and she goes silent. “Got it. Cool. That’s fair.”
  “Do you want to hold him?” The question takes Rosa by surprise. Mac has finished eating and burped Amy in the face - babies are charming - and seems content again with his head on Amy’s shoulder. “He’s clean and wearing clothes.”
“Uhm, yeah.” Rosa tries to remember when she last held a baby. It was probably Iggy, but Gina’s daughter is three years old now, and she hasn’t wanted to cuddle with Rosa for at least two. “Okay.”
  Her heart is beating fast as she holds out her arms and Amy gently transfers him to them, but then he’s there, and it’s not as scary. Mac looks up at her with his big, brown eyes, like he's trying to figure out who this new person is that's holding him, but he doesn't seem too bothered by the change.
“Hi,” says Rosa, tracing one of the rainbows on his onesie. “We’ve met before.”
The fact that she saw this baby be born is something she most of all wants to forget. She won't for a second pretend he looked cute then, all purple and slimy and half-Cuban Jimmy Neutron-like, but now she can actually distinguish some of his features. Dark hair that won’t quite lie flat, a pointy little nose, the sweetest round cheeks, and a curious expression when she meets his eyes with equal focus. There’s some resemblance to both of his parents, something she imagines Charles has probably talked their ears off about already, but he looks like himself, too.
  Mac opens his mouth like he’s trying to communicate, and Rosa makes the same face back at him. He closes it, pursing his lips, and she mimics him again. He’s pretty cool, she decides, as long as she doesn’t think about how fragile he is or how soft his head is. He’s this unscarred and innocent, brand new little person with his whole life ahead of him to be filled with successes and mistakes, heartbreaks and dreams, and now that he’s not seconds-out of a womb anymore, Rosa can’t deny that he’s adorable.
“He’s perfect, right?” Amy’s voice is just above a whisper.
“He’s so cute, it’s fucked up.”
Amy laughs. “It is fucked up,” she nods, and then she gets a far more serious look in her eyes. “Thanks again for being there. I know you hated it, but... I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“It wasn’t a big deal,” Rosa finds herself lying, but Amy shakes her head.
“No, it was. I’m happy it was you.”
She thinks of Jake’s comment earlier, that Amy might have killed Charles if he’d been the one to try and coach her through contractions, and smirks. “It was worth it.”
Amy smiles. “Auntie Ro-Ro.”
“I get to say that. You don’t get to say that. It’s different.”
“Fine. Can I take a picture of you two? Just to have for him? I won’t ever show it to anyone else, I promise.”
“Sure.” Mac’s started moving a little in her arms again, scrunching his face and looking worried, but he’s not crying, so Rosa raises him slightly anyway and angles him so Amy can get a better picture.
“Adorable,” she says, about to snap the first shot, and right then Mac squirms and spits up. Right over Rosa’s leather jacket. Then he smiles, like everything just became so much better.
“Oh no!” Amy peeps, reaching for a washcloth. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I’ll take him off your hands if you want -”
“It’s fine,” she hurries to say. “It wipes off.”
“Are you -”
“I said it’s fine.” Rosa gives her a look, as if to say don’t you dare take this baby from me.
Amy looks nervous, but she takes a couple of pictures anyway. Rosa thinks that they’re probably from her bad side, but she doesn’t care to protest. It’s for Mac, anyway, and maybe a little bit for Amy and Jake. She can look ugly in a couple of iPhone pictures if it means she gets to hold this perfect baby for a few minutes more.
“So cute.” Amy sounds teary as she looks at the pictures before putting her phone away, and then it's as if she's been reading Rosa’s mind, because she asks,
“Are you okay to hold him for five minutes? Just while I go to the bathroom?”
“Yeah, I’ve got this.”
  Rosa has got this, at first. Mac has gripped her index finger and is holding on tight to it while she tickles his chin, boops his nose, and even sticks out her tongue to entertain him. He seems happy, watching her with the same wide eyes and intense eye contact, but then, something suddenly comes over him. He scrunches his forehead, making a face like a sad kitten, and the next second he’s crying.
  It takes Rosa by surprise. She's got no idea what to do with a crying baby - she's always just given them back to the parents - but Jake’s nowhere to be seen and breaking into the bathroom to place a screaming baby in Amy’s arms seems rude, although she definitely considers it. Rosa stands up instead, swaying from side to side while bouncing on the heels of her feet.
“Shh, shh,” she tries, to no effect. “It's okay.”
Mac lets out another wail like something is making him well and truly heartbroken, and the sound tugs at her heartstrings.
“Where are your parents?” She asks him then, like he's not wondering the same thing. “I’m sorry, Mac, I don’t know what to do -”
An idea hits her. Babies like music, right? She could sing to him. Babies probably don’t like aggressive German rap, but that’s fine, Rosa knows other songs, somewhere down deep -
“The itsy bitsy spider, went up the water spout,” she sings the first song that pops into her head. “Down came the rain and washed the spider out…”
  She's not prepared for it to work, but then, as suddenly as the screaming started, Mac calms down again. He lets out the sweetest snuffling noise, and then he goes quiet.
“Out came the sun, and washed up all the rain, and the itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again…”
Rosa doesn't dare stop. She keeps rocking and singing, rocking and singing, all the while staring at this baby who has such a grip on her somehow. When did a baby last make her sing? He's still staring at her with wide eyes, and she doesn’t want him to start crying again, so she sings the song from the top.
“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout..”
  When she finishes the song for the second time, Mac’s closed his eyes and is slowly waving a tiny fist, so she holds it in her hand and lets his grip close around her thumb.
“If you ever get an enemy in the future,” she whispers, “you text me, okay? I’ll beat them up for you.”
“Aww.” Rosa flinches, noticing Jake a few feet away. “You guys are adorable. How are things going?”
“He started crying, so I, uh, sang to him? He's fine now. I think.”
“Yeah, I heard the singing.” Jake steps closer to her so she can slide Mac over to his arms. “Truly beautiful.”
“Never tell anyone about this.”
He winks. “Our secret.”
Mac lets out another whimper, and Rosa tenses, but Jake just lifts him so he's resting against his chest, like a little frog with his head resting on Jake’s shoulder. Then he pops the pacifier he was holding into Mac’s mouth, and as if through a stroke of magic, the baby relaxes. Jake buries his nose in Mac’s hair and kisses the top of his head, and Rosa can't hide a smile.
  He looks so grown up like this, so in love as he holds his son. She’s proud of him.
  Amy returns from the bathroom with a stressed-out look in her eyes, but once she sees Mac with Jake, it melts right off her. She stands on the tip of her toes, kissing Mac’s cheeks first and then Jake’s.
Rosa feels like she’s lurking, spying on this intimate family moment, but then she remembers she literally saw this kid be born. This family has nestled its way into her life from the very beginning. She’s earned the right to be here.
  She still excuses herself after a moment, but she doesn’t leave before she’s stolen a final dose of baby snuggles. How this baby has got her so wrapped around his tiny little finger already is a mystery, but at the same time, it makes all the sense in the world.
“Be nice to your parents,” she whispers to Mac as he gets a final turn in her arms. “They’re a little crazy, I know, but they really love you a lot. So do I,” she adds, under her breath, “but don’t tell anyone I said that.”
Mac blinks, like he understands.
  ~
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naferty · 4 years
Text
Happy b-lated Birthday, @summerpipedream! Sorry I couldn’t get this out sooner. That gaming system yo. 
Here’s some Avac Stony, but really it’s Nat trying to figure out the Stony happening under her nose and the shenanigans that follow. 
~~~
Natasha has a suspicion. A suspicion of suspicions. A suspicion that revolves around one Steve Rogers - aka Captain America. 
Natasha suspects that Steve is dating someone. 
While that in itself doesn’t sound huge since everyone dates or try to date, because it’s Steve Rogers it means everything. Nat has been trying to set the guy up on dates for a while now and the list of people interested in him isn’t short. So she has a lot to work with and he has a lot to choose from, but she’s careful to separate those genuine to those who want something of gain in dating Captain America. 
Nat considers Steve a friend. After months together in the academy, partnering in classes and sparring in their free time, she likes to think they’re pretty close. As much as a spy and America’s sweetheart can be. Which is bordering on best friend territory for her, meaning she has a duty to Steve to make sure he gets a date, maybe even a girlfriend out of it. 
She has tried. Every other day per Steve’s request she has tried getting him dates. Ranging from classmates to SHIELD personnel and even some villains attacking the Academy. No dice. Steve has stubbornly refused to even consider them, when before he thought about it briefly before shaking his head. 
Even Sharon Carter got the boot, who Natasha had been sure Steve was trying to ‘get sweet on.’ The two blonds talked, ate and even went to Club A together once way back when Sharon first arrived, but before Natasha could even suggest he ask her out the supersoldier flat out said “No, she’s just a very good friend.” After that, she didn’t see the two as close and wondered if her curiosity meddled in their relationship. 
Natasha to this day remains baffled. All the signs pointed to the two dating at some point, but Steve just had to throw a wrench into all that (or maybe that had been Natasha’s own fault for jumping the gun?). 
The star-spangled bastard. Making everything more complicated than it should be. 
So now here is Natasha. Suggesting the new blood who just arrived to the Academy and Steve denying her before she could finish saying the new student’s name. 
“I’m not interested in asking Carol out. Besides, I’m pretty sure she’s already seeing someone,” he says without looking up from his book.
“How are you sure?” Natasha hasn’t even heard the possibility of Captain Marvel taken. How could Steve?
“Call it a hunch.” 
“And if your hunch is wrong?” 
“Trust me, it’s not wrong with this. I ask Carol out, I’ll end up punch on the nose.” 
A thought struck her. “Since when is Captain Marvel Carol to you? We just recruited her yesterday. I haven’t even seen the both of you together.” 
The fingers tapping over the cover of the book freeze. Got him. Steve isn’t prepared for that question but he quickly recovers. The fingers resume their tapping. “We got together after class. Strictly as friends.” 
Natasha smells a lie. “A date?” 
“No, not a date.” He corrects. A little too quickly if you ask her. “Only friends.”
“But it could lead to a date?” 
“Natasha,” Steve finally looks up. She’s clearly pushed him a little too much as evident by his very impressive frown. “There’s nothing going on between us. Carol and I are just friends. Nothing more. Nothing less. Drop it, and please stop trying to set me up with people. I’m not interested.” 
Natasha takes in the words and her mind goes into overdrive. Steve isn’t interested? Outright just asked her to stop finding dates for him? When before Steve would just entertain her and go along with it until it eventually ended with him saying no. 
Now, he wants her to plain stop and is even getting defensive about it. 
Either Natasha pushed some buttons she shouldn’t have, Steve has reached his limit and is tired of her constant meddling or America’s sweetheart is already dating someone. 
“Are you dating someone?” she blurts, automatically assuming the latter. It’s more fun than the first two. 
She makes the right choice, as Steve’s mouth falls open, unprepared for it, and maybe a little panicked that she’s on the right track. She’s going to assume it’s that. 
He clears his throat. “No, I’m not dating anyone.” 
Natasha Romanov, the human lie detector, is out to play. “What’s her name?” 
“Noone.”
“Strange name.” 
“You asked.” 
“Can you describe her?”
“There’s no one to describe.” 
“Is she tall or short? Blond, brunette, or mail order?”
He shakes his head and stops, insulted. “Really?” 
“Does she go to the Academy?” 
“No.”
“Is she a hero we haven’t recruited yet?”
“No.”
“Is she from Earth?”
“No.” 
“Is she old?” 
“What? No!” 
“Just checking. I don’t know if you’re into that.” 
“Will you stop already. No, I’m not dating anyone.” 
She gets a little frustrated. The man is good. She can only catch him lying about not dating anyone, but everything else he’s telling the truth. She doesn’t understand. “Do you have a girlfriend?” 
“I don’t have a girlfriend, Nat. Stop asking already.” Annoyed now, but still not a lie. Steve looks away, back to his book. His sign that he’s very done with this conversation. Natasha isn’t. 
He’s lying about not dating someone but he’s not lying about having a girlfriend. She takes in all this information. It starts clicking together. Pieces fitting perfectly. The reason he’s fooling her lie detector skills.
Because he’s telling the truth. 
It’s not a girlfriend. 
It’s a boy. Friend. A boyfriend! 
The imaginary girlfriend doesn’t go to this school, or is a hero, or is from Earth. She’s not real. 
But the boyfriend is. 
“Are you dating anyone?” she tries again. Start over. Find the clues that’ll lead to the answer. 
“No,” Steve answers automatically. He’s lying, but he’s also not paying attention anymore. 
She goes for another tactic. Someone not focused can be easily duped. “Is it someone from the Academy?” 
“No.” 
A lie. Perfect. She has him. “Have we recruited them yet?” 
“No.” 
Another lie. “Are they from Earth?” 
“No.” 
Lie three. They’re from Earth. They’re here. They’re a boy. “Are they a hero?”
“No.” 
A hero then. “Is it Sam?” 
He sighs. “No.” 
A truth. So not Sam, and if she knows Steve he’ll hang out with his boyfriend every chance he gets. So, someone he’s seen with often. “Is it Thor?” 
“No.” 
“Is it Bruce?”
“No.” 
“Is it Clint?” 
“No.” 
“Is it Bucky?” 
“No.” 
That last one is meant to be sarcastic. She’s dating Bucky, but she’s also getting frustrated. Who else hangs out with this stubborn man? 
Something moves in her line of vision. A person. Looking their way. Getting closer. Her eyes widen. No, it couldn’t be. 
“Is it… Tony?” 
“No.” 
That’s a lie. 
“Holy shit,” she blurts. “You’re dating Tony.” 
Steve looks up. He’s trying to be neutral but Nat sees it in his eyes. He’s flustered. “No, I’m not dating Tony.” 
“You are!” 
“I’m not!” 
“You’re dating Tony?” 
He throws his hands up. “I’m not dating Tony. We’re just friends. Tony is just a friend.” 
“Oh,” comes a voice from behind Steve. 
Steve whirls in his seat, looking at the very man. “Tony!”
“You asshole,” Tony says, offended. He turns and starts walking away, shooting Steve a dirty look. 
Steve gets up, panicking. “Tony, wait!” 
Natasha looks on in shock. Her mouth almost touching the floor. Steve runs to catch up with Tony, leaving his book and Natasha in shock. 
She certainly didn’t expect that. 
She follows after them. She’s going to fix the little mess she made, but after that, she’s beating the two up for keeping this secret from her. 
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schrijverr · 3 years
Text
What Your Heart Says
When they’re hunting a spirit that targets kids after they’ve fought with their moms, Sam realizes why he could have been a target and all Dean has done for him.
On AO3.
Ships: none
Warnings: suicide mention.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam and Dean were working a case. Three children had dropped dead, all bruised necks, all inexpiable.So, the Winchesters had rolled into town and started asking around.
They had made their way to a party in the neighborhood under the pretense that they were new in town. The parents were split, with the dads talking around the barbecue and the moms sitting and talking around the picnic table. Dean said: “Dude, the only thing that’ll make this okay if I get to talk to the hot moms.”
“You are terrible, but sure,” Sam rolled his eyes, “Remember, we have a kid, but he’s with his grandparents.”
“Yeah, yeah, and his name is Bobby,” Dean said, “I know.”
Then he was off to the table, politely introducing himself: “Hi, I’m Dean. My partner, Sam, and I are new here and we thought we’d introduce ourselves.”
The women introduced themselves as well and looked over at Sam, who was introducing himself to the men and asking around there. Linda asked: “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about the game with the boys?”
“Nah, Sam has always been more into that stuff than me,” Dean shrugged. “But don’t mind me, what were you all talking about it?”
“Oh, you know,” Karen said, “the kids.”
Dean nodded: “Ahh, of course, do you all have kids?”
The five women nodded and Dean decided that this was a great ice-breaker to them, so he brought up their fictional child: “How sweet. Me and Sammy over there have a little guy as well, although he’s not so little anymore. They’re growing up more and more everyday, am I right?”
The women seemed temporarily shocked by that revelation, but Linda picked up the conversation again: “Totally, so what’s his name and how old is he?”
“Bobby, he’s ten already.” Dean said.
“How cute,” Sharon fawned. “My Jane is five now, but it sometimes feels like my little girl is maturing more and more.”
Dean had come over to flirt a bit with the women, but now he let himself be comforted by stories about little Sammy, remade for suburban ears. He had shared Sams first school play and his cute Halloween outfits, when an opportunity arose to bring up the attacks. Linda said: “Maybe Ronald and Bobby would like to play sometime. He could come over tomorrow if you want to.”
Easily Dean lied: “That seems like a lovely idea, but with the recent deaths… We’ve been pretty scared of bringing Bobby here, so he’s been staying with his grandparents in Sioux Falls.”
A quiet fell over the table, but soon Dean had weaseled out of the women that all three of the kids had been fighting with their moms the night it had happened and that all the moms swore they had heard a strange laugh-like noise the day after.
Once he had the information he made a bit more small talk. He was in the middle of telling them about the Science Fair Sam had won in fifth grade when Sam came to get him. They said their goodbyes and left.
“What did you talk about with ‘the boys’?” Dean grinned.
Sam pushed him away and said: “Shut up! We talked about football, I don’t even know anything about football. What did you talk about, Deanna?”
“Hey, don’t use my amazing jokes against me,” Dean huffed, he got an eyeroll back, but he went on to answer: “But if you must know, we talked about the kids and complained about our men.”
“You complained about me?” Sam said indignantly.
Dean grinned and said: “Yeah, seems like a lot of men struggle with snoring and bed hogging.”
“Dude.”
Dean just laughed at Sam.
“Tell me you at least got some information out of them, because the dads knew nothing. One hadn’t even heard about the deaths.”
“Well, the moms were a bit more informed and talkative. Seems like all the vics had a fight with their moms the night of their deaths and all of them had heard laughing the day after, like someone was laughing at their pain.”
“Good job, now let’s get out of here and do some research.”
“You don’t have to sound so excited.”
Deans comment was ignored.
~
“So get this,” Sam started out his speech while walking over with his laptop, “apparently a girl killed herself a few years ago, by hanging herself.”
“The bruises.”
“Precisely, she did after she had a fight with her mom. She had been struggling for a while with mental health issues and this was the last straw. According to the police she had done it to get back at her mom, to make her feel guilty about what she had said, she even recorded herself laughing and left that for her mom to find the next day.”
“Sounds like she’s our ghost,” Dean agreed.
“Sounds like it, but there’s a problem.”
“When isn’t there a problem?” Dean complained. “Why can’t there just a be a clean easy salt ‘n burn?”
“Because that isn’t how our life is, man,” Sam said. “Anyway, it doesn’t state where she is buried and there are three big cemeteries in this town, so we’ll have to search every one if we want to find her bones.”
“Ugh, why does a town need three cemeteries? It’s not even that big,” Dean complained again.
“They have a catholic one, a protestant one and a public one,” Sam answered. “Lots of towns have that, so stop complaining.”
“I’m not complaining,” Dean replied indignantly.
“Yes you are. You always do,” Sam sighed
“No, I don’t,” Dean pouted.
“Yes, you- You know what, I’m not playing your childish games,” Sam was starting to get frustrated.
“Oh, yeah of course, now I’m childish. I’m sick of it, why can’t you just let me have my fun. I’m never harming anyone, so why do you care?” Dean said with an angry tone.
“Because your fun consist of annoying me to death or drinking yourself to death. One is nerve grating and the other makes me worry,” Sam bitched
“Oh, god, I’m not talking about that now. Leave me and my drinking alone. It’s nothing,” Dean huffed.
“it’s not not-” Sam began, but Dean cut him off: “We have three cemeteries to search better get started now. Lets go.”
Then he stalked out of the door, a silently fuming Sam following behind him.
~
“She has to be here, otherwise we’re fucked,” it was the first time the silence had been broken since they’dleft the motel.
Sam nodded tightly and went back to looking at the headstones. They were at the public cemetery and they had already searched the other two entirely with no luck.
Dean was about to call out to Sam that he had found it, when she appeared in front of the younger Winchester. He screamed as she put her hands around his neck and leaned in to whisper something. She didn’t get to say anything, however, because Dean shot her with a round of salt.
They quickly made a salt circle around the grave and caught their breath. Dean said: “You dig, I’ll keep her busy.”
“No, man, I know you’ve hurt your knee on the last hunt. You shouldn’t be running. I’ll take her on, you dig,” Sam said.
“No, Sam, don’t-” Dean didn’t finish, because Sam was already out the salt circle yelling for the spirit to come get him. Dean started digging after a moment of hesitation as he sighed to himself: “Stupid frigging kid.”
~
Sam had manged to run from the spirit for most of the night, but right now he was pinned down by her. He knew Dean was almost done, but he hoped his brother would hurry, because he was slowly suffocating.
The spirit cackled and whispered in his ear: “I’ll make him regret it. He will regret every word he said.”
Sam chocked out: “Why are you…targeting me? I don’t, ugh, I don’t have a…mom.”
The spirit looked confused for a second, then she whispered: “That’s not what your heart says.”
Then she went up in flames, screaming all the way.
Dean immediately yelled: “Are you okay?”
Dazed Sam sat up and rubbed his neck as he yelled back: “I’m fine, I think.”
“You think?” Deans voice sounded concerned as he hurried over to Sam to check him over.
Sam felt his hands run over his head and hissed a bit when they hit the bump on the back of his head. Dean forced him to look down and inspected the small head wound closer, when he was satisfied with what he found he let go of Sams head and said: “It doesn’t look that bad, but if you feel dizzy or disoriented you have to tell me.”
“No, no, I feel fine,” Sam reassured him. “It’s just what the spirit said that is bothering me.”
“She talked to you?” Dean said with a frown, then he asked: “What did she say?”
Sam hesitated before saying: “She said she’d made him regret it, every word he said.”
“Who the fuck is he?” Dean groused.
Sam thought about it and suddenly it clicked into place. The spirit wasn’t attacking just mothers, but also people who were seen as mothers, he remembered the girl had been adopted. He had argued with Dean just that day, Dean who had cared for him his entire life, who had talked to other mothers about his kid. Dean who had been there at school plays, who had been there when Sam was sick, who made him lunch and taught him how to tie his shoes. Dean who had tucked him in at night and told him not to worry about the monsters under the bed. His brother, who had taken on the roll of mother.
Tears filled Sams eyes with the realization and he felt the need to hug Dean, so he pulled his brother into a tight hug. Dean seemed shocked for a moment, his hands in the air for a second before he slowly wrapped them around Sams tall frame. Confused yet softly and with a gentle tone, he asked: “Whoa, hey, what brought this on?”
“You,” Sam managed to push out between the silent sobs.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, buddy, don’t cry, it’s okay,” Dean hushed, carding his hands through Sams hair on autopilot.
After a while Sam had managed to calm down. Dean wiped away the tears staining his cheeks and asked: “Wanna tell what made you cry like that?”
“You always cared for me, raised me and I never, I never even thanked you,” Sam hiccuped. “You gave up so much for me and I ran away. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Then he started crying again.
Dean didn’t react, he was sitting there, wide eyes with his boy crying in his arms and he was just playing Sams words over and over in his head. Sam was sorry. Sorry for not thanking him. The absurdity of the thought snapped Dean out of his daze.
He gently grabbed Sams chin and made him lock eyes with him. Then he said in the most caring voice Sam had heard in years: “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, alright? You haven’t done anything wrong. Raising you was never something I didn’t want to do. And although I hated – hate – it, I get why you had to get away, just for a while. It’s okay, no need to apologize.”
Then he let go of Sammys chin and pulled him into a tighter hug as the younger boy murmured: “Doesn’t make it alright,” into his shirt.
After a few more seconds of hugging Sam pulled away and Dean let him. When they were sitting opposite to each other in the empty graveyard in the middle of the night, tears still wet on their faces, they shared a look and burst out laughing. Dean chuckled: “This is ridiculous.”
Sam nodded and let himself be pulled up by Dean. Dean cracked his back and said: “If you’re still feeling guilty you can close the grave as a thanks.”
Sam rolled his eyes, but started to shovel the dirt back into the still smoking hole.
When the last dirt was thrown on the grave Dean broke the comfortable silence: “I’m guessing it was the ghost who pushed you to your conclusion.” Sam nodded and unsure Dean asked: “What did she say?”
Sam thought about it for a second, then he said: “First she told me she’d make him, meaning you, regret everything you’ve said, which made me confused. So I asked her why she was attacking me, because I didn’t have a mom. Then she gave me with such a perplexed look and said ‘That’s not what your heart says’ and then she died, again.”
Dean chocked up a bit and looked away. He swallowed heavily and tried to casually say: “And that made you connect me to being a parental figure, how?”
“I went over her MO, she was adopted so it didn’t have to be a mother by blood and we did fight today. SoI just thought why it would be you and then I thought about our youth and it just suddenly all clicked somehow,” Sam confessed, then he smirked and added: “And it was mom, not parental figure.”
Dean shot him a glare and said: “I’m not some chick, dude.”
“If that’s wanna tell yourself, sure.” Sam said, still smirking.
“Bitch!”
And just like that his brother was back.
Sam smiled.
“Jerk.”
~~
A/N:
I found this on my computer and had forgotten about it completely. I do hope, I could cheer someone up with this :D
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takurotan · 3 years
Text
FEH Book V, Chapter 9 Echoes of Truth
Part 1: Rightful Place MID_SCENARIO_OPENING: Reghin: NGYAAH! A m-monster! I'm too young to be eaten! ...Huh? Oh. It's just a bird, I guess. Maybe heading off to the Tower of Niðavellir alone wasn't a great idea after all… I'm not sure I can make it all the way by myself… No! I can't get discouraged now! My country and my brothers need me more than ever! The foothills should be on the other side of this forest. If I just keep going this way, I should get there soon! I'll just have to do my best! FighterAX_M: ...inn… ...Reg...inn... Reghin: ...Huh? Wh-who's there? I can hear your voice, but I can't see anyone! Are you...over this way?
MID_SCENARIO_MAP_BEGIN: Sharon: Phew... This is exhausting! And the Tower of Niðavellir is higher still? This slope is so steep... Alfons: We'll make it, Sharena... There, look. You can see it now, over there. That is our goal, the Tower of Niðavellir… Though it's incredible that Reginn managed to climb this mountain on her own... Anna: Right. I thought we would catch up to her right away. It's strange… And since we know the tower is guarded, it's almost unthinkable that she'd attempt this by herself. Alfons: We've seen no sign of battle thus far, so we can only assume she is still somewhere ahead of us. Anna: I suppose you're right. All we can do is trust she's safe and keep heading toward the tower.
MID_SCENARIO_MAP_END: Sharon: There she is! Princess Reginn! Reghin: Oh, you...you followed me!? Anna: Of course we did! You don't have to do this alone. Reghin: I-I'm sorry. It's just...I've caused you all so much trouble already… I wanted to take care of this one thing myself... I just thought I'd— Sharon: After everything we've been through together?! Alfons: This isn't a problem that concerns you alone, or even just Niðavellir, for that matter. You don't need to take it on all by yourself. You can trust us to help you. Dagr: After spending all this time together, I've started to think of you like my little sister, Reginn. Let your Big Sis help you out! Nott: ...As the proper elder sister here, if you need someone you can count on, your best choice is me. Anna: Princess Reginn, you are a valued member of our Order of Heroes, and in light of that… I will not accept you going on any dangerous missions by yourself from here on! Reghin: ...Thank you. All of you… You...you're all so wonderful! *sniff* You're going to make me cry! Nott: All that said, you have done rather well climbing this mountain on your own, haven't you? Reghin: *sniff* ...Oh, that's right! I heard this strange voice, and I followed after it... I hardly even noticed the climb! Alfons: A strange voice? We didn't hear anything like that... Reghin: Oh... Really? Hmm... Maybe I was imagining things!
MID_SCENARIO_ENDING_IMAGE: EvBg_NisaverilCastle MID_SCENARIO_ENDING: Fafnir : ... Otr: Brother! You're all right! I thought… Weren't you taken captive by Askr?! ...I'm so glad to see you! You had me worried. I never thought you would invade Askr while I was away. And Reginn... Unbelievable! How dare she side with Askr and aid them in capturing you! She is no sister of mine... No, not anymore. Don't you agree, Brother? Fafnir: What endless yammering… SILENCE! Askr... The gate, it... What's on the other side?! ...Damn it! Otr: Brother... Have you...remembered something? What is it? Fafnir: ...Hm. I've noticed you've been fixated on Askr recently, haven't you, Ótr? ...What do you know? Otr: M-me? ...I-I don't know anything! What do you mean, Brother? Fafnir: Don't play the fool with me. Do you think your sneaking around with Eitri has gone unnoticed?! Hhng— Gyaahh! My...head! Otr: Brother, try to calm yourself! You mustn't try to force your memories to return. Fafnir: It is more than my memory that's wrong... My strength is far beyond that of others… Sometimes, it is too much for even me to control... I have this thirst for destruction that I cannot satisfy… When...when did I become this?! Hrrk! Guhhh... Otr: You haven't changed, Brother… That strength is what made you king, and king by right! You need not worry. I'm here with you. I won't abandon you like Reginn has, that traitorous, conniving... Fafnir: Mmrrgh... H-huh? ...Wh-what is this? Otr: Ah, there you are... Are you back with me now? You're likely exhausted after having escaped Askr... You lost consciousness for a moment. Fafnir: Ah, that's right... That woman, Loki… She appeared to me in Askr, and… Ótr, begin preparing to invade a new target. Otr: ...O-of course! What target? Fafnir: The Emblian Empire.
Part 2: Merry Diviner MID_SCENARIO_MAP_BEGIN_BGM: BGM_EVENT_PLAIN_01 MID_SCENARIO_MAP_BEGIN: Orochi: Queen Mikoto...please watch over me...
Part 3: Rulebreaker Mage MID_SCENARIO_MAP_BEGIN: Nyx: I took countless lives in my foolish youth. For that, I was cursed with this unaging body...
MID_SCENARIO_MAP_END: Sharon: Finally! We made it! Now, to get that gate open. Hmmm-MMPH— Huh… Alfons: This is no time for playing around, Sharena. Sharon: I'm not playing around! The gate won't budge! Anna: But there's no lock... Strange. Reghin: Oh no! That's right... I'm sorry… This gate can only be opened by those from Niðavellir's royal line. Alfons: So we have no way to get past the gate? Reghin: I'm afraid not... I wish I knew of any other way to open it… If we can't get past it, we'll be unable to investigate whatever it is my brothers are up to… SUMMON_STONE_FLASH| Sharon: H-huh?! ...I-it just opened! Reghin: Yes! This is amazing... The kings of ages past must be watching over us! Thank you, Your Majesties! Anna: Convenient... That certainly saves us some trouble! Let's hurry through before the kings change their minds. Alfons: Right! Let's get going! Er...what's wrong, Kiran? What's that you found? Oh! That looks like...
MID_SCENARIO_ENDING: _ Eitri: The gate...is open. Heh... Heh heh heh… AH-HAHAHAHAAAHH! So this is how things are, is it?! How dare you, Ótr… The divine dragon has not abandoned Niðavellir yet. You will not be allowed to simply do whatever you please...
Part 4: Wily Warrior MID_SCENARIO_OPENING: Reghin: Hmmm... Where is... Huh! Alfons: What is it, Princess Reginn? Reghin: Well, this is where the king would have come to perform the formal rites of ascension to the throne. The rite involves climbing from the bottom of the mountain to the tower and placing a treasure on the altar… But...I don't see Fáfnir's treasure here anywhere. Anna: Did Fáfnir...not perform the rite? Reghin: He did! Well, he took a treasure and climbed this mountain… Sharon: But he went alone, right? Reghin: W-well, of course, but not becau— Alfons: Is this the treasure he carried? Reghin: Th-that's it! ...Why do you have it, Prince Alfonse? Where did you find it?! Alfons: It was on the ground out as we approached the tower. It seems to have been thrown into the thicket. It was Kiran who found it. Reghin: But...why would— He said he gave his treasure as an offering! Nott: He was unable to open the gate, in all likelihood. Blocked from making his offering, he tossed it aside. Dagr: Then...what does that mean for us? Alfons: You mentioned that only the royal line is able to enter the tower, right, Princess Reginn?How does the tower recognize someone as king? Reghin: To be claim the throne, you need to have the Crown of the Dvergar and be born of Niðavellir… Nott: He bore the crown. Which can mean only that he is not born of Niðavellir. Is that not the case? Alfons: It's possible... As I understand it, Fáfnir lost all of his memories. Reghin: Th-then...just who IS my brother? And where did he come from? Alfons: As of now, we have no way of knowing. Anna: It's possible even he doesn't know anything about his past life… But if the fact that he's not born of this realm were to become widely known, he could be deposed. It's likely that is the reason why he didn't tell anyone... Reghin: Aha! And maybe Ótr knows the truth... Alfons: Right. He probably found the treasure as well, and threw it into the thicket himself. Dagr: That's all great, but… the only thing this tells us is that he isn't from Niðavellir, right? Nott: We've gained insight into our foe. It is a step in the right direction. Sharon: What step comes next then? Do we pursue Ótr and Eitri? Alfons: Hmmm... Making our way back down the mountain will be dangerous after dark—we should hurry.
MID_SCENARIO_MAP_BEGIN: Charlotte: I'll make you my extra-special lunch!
MID_SCENARIO_MAP_END: FighterAX_M: ...Reginn... Reghin: Wh-who's there? You were the one who called out to me at the foot of the mountain, weren't you... FighterAX_M: You have done well, child of our blood... Wrest the crown from the heretic... Return it to rightful hands... Reghin: The...heretic? Do you mean Fáfnir? But...but I— Sharon: Princess Reginn? Who are you talking to? Reghin: H-huh? You can't hear it? Sharon: H-hear what? ...I'm not falling for this trick again! Anyway, I came to tell you it's nearly time to go. Reghin: Right... Of course.
Part 5: Sensitive Soul MID_SCENARIO_MAP_BEGIN: Benoit: I like animals. They aren't scared of me.
MID_SCENARIO_MAP_END: Dagr: How many of these guys are there?! They just keep coming! Nott: They must have arrived while we were investigating the tower. Anna: Their reinforcements seem almost endless! If we don't retreat now... Alfons: Stay focused, everyone! When we have an opening to get clear, take it!
MID_SCENARIO_ENDING: Sharon: Enemies! Wait—who's that?! Alfons: That lance-work... It couldn't be! Bruno: ... Alfons: Zacharias! Where did you come from? Sharon: Are you here to help us? Wow! What incredible timing! Bruno: ...That is not why I'm here. If anything, I've come to ask for your help. Niðavellir's army... Fáfnir has invaded the Emblian Empire. Alfons: What? He escaped from Askr?! I-is Princess Veronica all right?! Bruno: She's managed to hold them off somehow, but it's only a matter of time before she's overwhelmed. I'm well aware we are in no position to ask favors of you, but... Please, help Veronica. Help my sister. Alfons: Zacharias, you've been away, so you may not know this, but… Despite her initial aggression toward Askr, Veronica has cooperated with us on many an occasion. We will respond as we would if any ally were in trouble. We will not abandon her to Niðavellir… Everyone—Embla is in need! We must hurry to their aid!
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nightingaelic · 3 years
Note
Not a good idea, maybe, but still... NV Followers' reaction to how the Courier tells the follower that sometimes all their adventures seem like a kind of deathbed dream to them (a bullet in the head after all...)
Just know, anon, that I am strongly resisting the urge to go full Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara with every single one of these reactions.
"Maybe this is all just... me." The courier waved their hand through the scorching air, tracing the shimmering line of the horizon that sang false promises of water. "A mirage. An oasis in the desert that I can't quite reach, but my eyes keep telling me is there if I just walk far enough."
Their hand went to the scar on their forehead. "I don't know. The things I've seen, since Goodsprings... if I told them to half the people in the Mojave, they'd toss me in the same shack as No-bark. HELIOS One? The Burned Man, in the crispy flesh? Jason Bright and his followers? Hell, the Sierra Madre? How do I know I didn't actually bite the dust in that graveyard, and all of this is the work of the bullet Benny put in my noggin?"
Arcade Gannon: "I guess there isn't a very convincing way I can answer that question," Arcade admitted. "But the fact that I know exactly how close you came to dying could be some evidence to the contrary. I doubt you were walking around with much medical knowledge about cranial vulnus sclopetarium prior to encountering it firsthand."
The courier looked somewhat interested, so the researcher continued hesitantly. "Did that doctor who checked you out not explain what happened to your brain? It's honestly a miracle that you're still walking around."
"I might've been a little preoccupied with the shock of being awake," the courier admitted. "Here, show me."
They guided Arcade's hand to the wound site, which he felt gingerly, trying not to awaken any pain. "Okay, close, very close range, left side... trajectory was too high, so it missed the speech center... probably sustained the most damage in the frontal and parietal lobes... well that tracks, that would affect problem-solving skills and spatial relationships..."
"Arcade?"
"Mm-hm?"
The courier grinned. "Just keep talking to me in Latin and I'll stop caring whether I'm dead or not. It sounds nice."
Arcade blushed.
Craig Boone: "Mmm." Boone pondered the thought, but immediately felt the shadow of guilt fall over his shoulders. Had any of his targets felt that way as they lay dying? Had Carla? He tried to shake the feeling off before it reached his face.
The courier, for their part, didn't notice, or at least knew enough to pretend not to notice. "That snake Benny was using a handgun, too, and who knows what caliber," they said, looking off into the distance.
"Low," Boone offered.
"Come again?"
"The bullet," Boone clarified. "It's still in your head. Slow and small caliber, if you're not already dead from it."
"But I could already be dead from it."
"Nah."
The courier looked as though they wanted to probe further, but Boone straightened his sunglasses and walked past them, signaling that the conversation was over. Headshot wounds, hypotheticals, they weren't his strong suit, but he did know one thing: The orders he had followed and the lives he had ended were far too real to be the figment of some Mojave wastelander's imagination.
Lily Bowen: "Come now, dearie, you're giving your imagination too much credit." Lily patted the courier lightly on the shoulder. Well, as lightly as a nightkin could. "Grandma's seen many strange things too, ever since she left the vault behind."
The courier smiled. "Stranger than the ones I've seen? Like what?"
Lily made an ugly face. "I saw many things when working for the Master. Golden geckos in Klamath. Ghosts in Baja. The Master himself, with his brain in the computers and the computers in his brain."
"Eugh." The courier mimicked the face Lily was making. "One of those, huh? Always seemed unsanitary to me."
"Good things too," Lily went on wistfully. "I saw Marcus' first city, when it was big and full of people. Humans, but also super mutants, ghouls. How I would have liked to take Becky and Jimmy there."
Her voice faltered a little, remembering the grandchildren that had been lost, left behind long ago. The courier reached out and took her hand. "I'm here, Lily."
After the memory passed, Lily returned to her smiling self. "You are, pumpkin. We're here together."
Raul Alfonso Tejada: "I know how you feel, boss." Raul sighed. "There are plenty of things in my past that I can't help but question the authenticity of. All I can say is that after a while, you stop asking and just go along for the ride."
"Right." The courier crossed their arms. "I suppose it's not that different a mindset from becoming a ghoul. Time stretching on in front of you, no clear end in sight, no expectation there will ever be one."
"Eh." Raul shrugged. "That might just be a mindset of mine. I stopped worrying about dying a long time ago. Or maybe I was looking for it, but never managed to find it. Either way, time doesn't bother me the way it used to."
"But it still does?"
"Sí. Now I worry more that I'll forget the crazy things I've seen altogether, or that they don't mean anything."
The young courier looked like they weren't quite ready to ponder that possibility. They stood together in silence for a while, watching the horizon's haze.
"Should we keep going?" the courier finally asked, shouldering their pack.
"Desde luego."
Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Sometimes I wonder the same thing," Cass replied with a nod. "Well, not the exact same thing, but somethin' similar. Plenty of times in my life, I've woken up in someone else's bed or on the floor of a bar and wondered if I actually survived the fight I was in the night before, or if I finally drank enough to make my heart stop. It's a strange feeling, but then someone douses me in water or slaps me too hard on the ass and the pain of the wakin' world creeps back in, little by little."
"Do you slap them back?" the courier joked, chuckling.
"Them and the world," Cass confirmed. "I always figured if I'd actually died in my sleep, why bother makin' up some desert full of sadness and sunburns to fill my time? Had enough of that in life, so I can't see my mind keepin' it around. Much rather conjure up a house by the beach somewhere, with a basement full of caps and enough booze to last me 'til the bombs fall again."
The courier eyed her mischievously. "Maybe you're in hell."
Cass held her canteen up. "Well then. To bein' stuck in hell with a true friend."
She drank, long and deep, and the courier retrieved their canteen to do the same.
Veronica Santangelo: "Oh, Six." Veronica's face filled with sympathy. "Is that really what you think about, when you're trying to sleep at night in the casino and Cass is snoring in the bed next to you?"
The courier blinked. "Cass snores?"
"How have you not noticed?" Veronica pulled her power fist off and flexed her fingers, re-stimulating her circulation as best she could. "Arcade said he wanted to trade with me, after Boone had his second night terror incident, but he changed his mind again after one night of her racket. At this point, I'm used to it. When she's not around, I have trouble sleeping, can you believe that? Brotherhood bunks really prepared me for the Lucky 38."
"No, I hadn't noticed." The courier sat down on a nearby rock and stretched their legs out. "I guess I haven't been there much, lately."
Veronica sat down next to them. "You know, the more often you're gone having adventures around the desert, the more crazy things you're going to see. People who rest on their laurels and stick to the Strip don't lie awake wondering if they actually died back when they choked on those buffalo gourd seeds at The Gourmand."
"Touché."
ED-E: The eyebot let out a few beeps of disagreement and rolled from side to side in mid-air, indicating as best it could that in its experience, being shot in the dome was a good method for scrambling circuitry but was actually terrible for fusing new connections. The courier laughed and reached out to rub the robot's side. "Thanks, buddy. Maybe I'm right, or maybe reality is just a weird place."
ED-E beeped its satisfaction and bounced forward as if chasing the mirage. The courier trailed after the eyebot, their giggles blowing out with the wind into the desert for all to hear.
Rex: The old cyberdog whined and licked its companion's hand, uncertain what they were asking. Any dreams the canine had were good ones, long runs over grassy plains and prey that was always a hair too slow. Life with the courier was good too, but full of many more dangers than a savannah dotted with rabbits and deer. The courier scratched the dog on his ruff affectionately, before continuing over the hot sand toward their destination. Rex followed behind, happy and panting.
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raleigh-ocean · 4 years
Text
ashes to ashes | part 2
words: 2,063
summary: Natasha got assigned the task of making an ex-Hydra spy operative for S.H.I.E.L.D, but since the beginning she wasn’t sure if she was going to be of any help. Maybe with time she would change her mind, but from now on the only thing she wanted was to get over with this is as soon as possible.
taglist: @messuhp​
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If Natasha knew that was all she needed to make you stop having murderous tentatives, she would had resorted to it way sooner.
Two weeks and a half had passed since both her and Sharon were assigned with you, but trying to train with you was still...like a death trap. They didn't do much but get more and more bruised after you started to get stronger again, but the rage you seemed to hold inside never faded, making up for the energy lost. Whatever they made you go through, it seemed like it wasn't enough at all, because your only response to it was to fight instead of learn what they had in store for you.
The talking part wasn't at its best, but watching you open up little by little was a relief. Wanda was the one that made you talk the most words out of everyone, and most of them were when none could see you two exchange it. That didn't help at all to the 'not be confined to your quarters' part, because what Maria wanted of you was to...be part of team, not isolate yourself more. 
Sharon was always the brain of the duo, Natasha going more for the tedious part that it was the physical one. But after Wanda had pointed out how much you seemed to stare out of the window and that you were always kept inside, something in their minds clicked.
How could you progress when you were kept more like an animal of some sort, instead of giving you a bit more liberties around? Maria had also pointed out that you still were in a grey area of possibly ran away, which was one of the motives behind not letting you go further than the common areas nor being alone there. Were they willing to take the risk of leaving you in the open? If something went wrong they would have to literally run for their lives.
So they, in their most idiotic momentum, decided that they were willing to take that if it meant having a chance on completing their task…
...a chance with a safety belt, which was Wanda.
And now, after three hours, Natasha couldn't help but smile in relief. Maybe the deep sigh of relief was also because she was trying to recover from running like mad for thirty minutes, Sharon relieving her in the probably fortieth lap you did around the main yard.
"Doesn't she tire herself out?" Wanda was still in her pajamas, because she had refused to change clothes in retaliation when Natasha had woke her up that early in her day off, a blanket around her while sitting on one of the benches. "I don't know how you two do it, honestly, I would have thrown up after five laps."
Watching how you left Sharon behind easily helped Natasha to try and gather some strength. Oh, of course they weren't doing so well, but they were better at hiding their true tiredness than anyone else. She had actually thrown up behind some bushes at the twenty-fifth lap and Sharon was limping while running at this point. But you kept running around as if you barely had started to do so, as if somehow just being out gave you more and more energy...or, as Natasha hoped, got you to burn all the rage that seemed to get in the way of your thinking.
"She's been trained to follow anyone through any possible terrain for who knows how long and who knows in which condition," she finally let out after downing half bottle of water. "I think this feels like a normal day for her."
Natasha knew Wanda wanted to say something back at that, whether a question or an addition, but held back in order to just watch how you passed Sharon by her right for the second time. 
That was enough for Sharon to just give up and go lie down in front of the other two women, too exhausted to say or do anything else but exist there. But you kept running, as if you didn't care about your two guards giving up. And as much as Natasha could see...you were happy? So she didn’t stop you, just decided to sit by Sharon’s side to watch you burn away all those feelings that were making you not go forward.
Until you finally stopped dead in your tracks, as if you had a switch in your back. 
Wanda was the first one to react at that, not by moving, but by smiling you as if nothing dangerous could happen.
"Are you tired?" she was polite and you could hear in her voice that she was asking genuinely, seeing how she patted the spot in her left. "Come sit here, I'm sure your legs are burning at this point."
"I... I'm fine I think," you were slightly tired, you couldn't deny that, but nothing five minutes resting didn't fix. Taking a sit by Wanda's side, you looked at Natasha and Sharon, who were trying to sit up to look at you with curious yet cautious eyes. "Are we going to spar today or do I have to go back to…?"
Maybe it was because those were the first phrases you spoke directly to them, taking out the groans and growls, but Natasha managed to discern finally the distress in your voice when you didn't finish the final question.
"No," she was quick to answer, making you look directly at her and making her notice how your features didn't hardened for once, only looking at her like a curious child. "Nothing of going back to your room."
"Then?" your voice felt strange, almost eager for having something more to do. 
"Let's just enjoy one day of you not wanting to kill us," this time was Sharon who talked, giving up on trying to sit and just resting in her back again in the ground. "Tomorrow we can start with the actual retraining."
“How do you know this isn’t part of my plan…?” your voice went softer and you were sure you had their eyes on you without having to check, only looking at how peaceful the place was. “That I didn’t make you two spend all your energies, enough for me to take you out in a blink, after hurting miss Maximoff easily as using the blanket she has on right now,” you looked at your hands, the lie rolling in your tongue easily while you sensed how Wanda moved a bit away from you. “And then walk off the grounds as if I was a mere visitor?”
For what it seemed a forever and some more, the three other women were trying to discern if you were being totally serious, taking in count you got really specific while explaining. But then Natasha chuckled loudly, snapping Wanda and Sharon out of the serious air you put them in, and you couldn’t help but follow.
Soon you were holding your stomach because of it, taking it out of proportion but Natasha kept laughing with you and...it felt right for some reason. Right to be there, so far away from where you were raised, trained and sent to missions; right to have switched sides, to see a better future than end up dying somewhere no one would care about; right to finally see some light at the end of the tunnel you lived for all your life.
“If I wanted to do something to any of you, I wouldn’t have wait this long,” you were trying to stop laughing and you managed after closing your eyes really hard, holding your breath and all. “I was joking.”
You never said sorry, that much Natasha could say, but your words were full of the joke you just pulled. And that was enough for her to stand up, gathering some of the energies she had back to try and help Sharon to do the same.
“I do get those jokes, but these two don’t,” you looked at how Natasha pulled up her hair again, redoing her ponytail and giving you a stare that you couldn’t decipher. “Maybe try to smile a bit before throwing them so casually, agent L/N.”
The word ‘agent’ felt strange not only in her tongue, but in your ears, and it made you blink twice trying to get it to sound fine enough in your mind. Will you really learn to be an agent? For you, that meant to be part of a team rather than being alone like you always were, and that would probably be the hardest thing you ever try to do. But for some reason you were starting to believe that it wasn’t so crazy to think that you’ll become one. 
At least, as long as you had those three women around you...and, smiling to yourself, the rest of their strange team once you got along with all of them.
“That I can do, agent Romanoff...but I can’t promise them to be good,” you said, standing up as well and getting in between the three of them. You still were under supervision, which meant that you had to move in between your ‘guards’ when you weren’t in a controlled space. “I think I would scare people more than reassure them.”
“I saw your smile, you aren’t that bad,” Wanda tried to say, wrapping herself better in the blanket. 
Hearing you talk more was like music to Natasha’s ears. This was a bigger step than having you stop acting as if you were about to murder them all in cold blood. And Sharon seemed to agree with her, seeing how she gave her a surprised look, so they kept hearing you talk with Wanda here and there until you all were inside the compound again. Natasha didn’t like that you stopped the second you four put a foot in the living room, but she stopped herself from pushing you since the last thing she wanted was to make you go back to your prior mood and-
“Doctor Banner, are you sure about eating those cereals? I think there are better options.”
Yeah, now she got why you said your smile would scare people off. 
Overall watching how Bruce pushed away his bowl of cereal and started running towards his lab gave it away, but also Wanda’s laugh when you turned around all confused because of both their reactions. Natasha was sure that you didn’t mean to sound or look that terrifying but you were and, well, now she had more work to do, because if you pulled one of those in the middle of an undercover mission...you all would be screwed for sure.
“Come on, let’s have that training round you wanted, L/N,” she still wasn’t sure of using your first name, so Natasha resorted to call you by your last name. “Maybe afterwards we can work on some basic files while having dinner.”
And Nat would have laugh for sure just by how panicked Sharon looked at that, but the only thing she managed to get out of her system was a soft smirk when she laid her eyes on you.
You weren’t smiling, but Natasha could see what Wanda was referring to not long ago. It was like your whole body language changed, something close to a spark shining in your eyes along the softest tug in the left corner of your mouth before it went away. 
When you walked by her, instead of keep walking towards the training room you stopped again dead in your tracks. That was something more she had noticed about you, your ability to stop and restart without missing a beat. She couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at your sudden stop, waiting for you to say whatever was making you chew your lower lip for a mere second, and then you asked the next thing nonchalantly, as if you were asking about the weather.
“Can I have a knife this time? I miss training with my knives.”
Oh, yeah, Natasha was tired, beat up even, but she was still smart enough to shake her head in negation and not give you your weapon of choice and mastery…
...but maybe if you asked her again in a couple more weeks, she would at least considere lend you a stick.
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medeafive · 3 years
Text
Blood and Stone - 25
Masterpost
"Are you sure?" Clint asks as she makes her bed. "I can come with you."
Natasha snorts, fluffing up the pillow she won't sleep on soon, or ever. "No thanks. Don't need you fighting with Bobbi every day."
"I'm serious," Clint insists, playing with an arrow at his belt.
"So am I," Natasha replies, holding her belly. "Nothing you can do. It's gonna be fine, don't worry."
Clint pulls a face, clearly disagreeing but biting his tongue. "I'll pray for you. Seriously."
He hasn't prayed since he fled the war, as far as she knows, so she smiles at him sadly. "Thank you. Really."
There's nothing more to say after that. The room's largely empty. Not like she ever had much personal possessions anyway. She looks around, weird floating feeling. It's true, she's in between, removed from the world of hunting but not yet in… she doesn't know yet. Motherhood? A strange thought. She hasn't really thought about what this is going to be . If it's going to be at all.
Downstairs, everyone is waiting in the lobby, blinds pulled for James' sake. The bags are already in the car, as far as she knows. Pepper hugs her, a tear in the corner of her eye. “You’re going to be fine, Nat. We’re all going to be fine.”
Sharon hugs her next and by the time it’s Sam’s turn, Natasha herself is teary-eyed. She might just never see them again. “I’ll see you soon,” Sam mutters into her hair.
“I hope it’ll go well,” Bruce says. “Bobbi will look after you.”
“Oh, come on,” Tony says. “Like this would take you down. You, of all people.”
Clint is gritting his teeth, muscles of his jaw working. It looks aggressive but she knows he’s just trying not to show his emotions. “Stay strong. Don’t give up.”
“You’ll be back soon,” Fury says. “Can’t lose my best tracker.”
James is the last in line and she can’t really look at him, after the fight yesterday. It is what it is. As Bobbi said, the rest is between her and God, if that guy’s even out there somewhere. The only thing left to believe in is herself. James steps forward and kisses her forehead with his cold lips. It is what it is. She notices everyone else looking uncomfortable or looking away. “Good luck, Natalia. Good luck.”
That’s what it comes down to in the end, isn’t it? Sheer dumb luck. Life and death, happiness and misery, stability and societal collapse from a vampire epidemic. Nobody is ever really in control. Certainly not James and her. And she knows it's all downhill from here, whatever happens, James will always be a vampire, Schmidt will be out there until they kill him, she will always be on the run until she's dead or undead. It's all fleeting, unstoppable, out of control, and only getting worse. She smiles at him, thinking she might never see him again. "I'll be fine."
"Your stuff's in the truck," Bobbi remarks, staring at the claws against Natasha's red hair. "It's all ready to leave."
The silence is tense and uncomfortable. "We'll call you," Pepper hurries to say. "At least that much."
Natasha spots an unusually bulky figure in the background, hunching slightly, too heavy for his own liking. Looks like Steve's up. "Hey, you. I know you don't remember me but… You'll figure it out. I hope they take care of you."
"Sure will," Sharon mutters, blushing pink.
Natasha squeezes James' hand, still cold- well, that's just how it is, and it doesn't really matter. The baby kicks slightly and her mouth drops open but it's not that bad. She lets go, takes Bobbi's arm and lets herself be led outside.
It's really a small truck more than a car, plenty of space in the back, rusty but actually not in all that bad shape. Not like the Soviet car industry. Bobbi leads her to the passenger side.
"Morse?"
They both turn their heads. Fury is standing outside, beckoning. "Come over, I got something for you."
"Just a sec," Bobbi replies, helping Natasha up into the truck. "You okay?"
Natasha breathes heavily at the slight exertion, holding her belly. At least she didn't burn in the sunlight. "Yeah. It's fine."
"Just a second then, be right back." Bobbi walks to the back of the truck. Natasha closes her eyes, heart drumming in her ears. Oh, she's really not doing well. Stairs are hard, even when it's just one step. She hopes this is over soon. Little over a week now. Also, she hasn't been out in the daylight in what feels like years and it's awfully bright. Somebody opens the door at the back of the truck.
"Oh. Oh, I see."
"I think you're going to find that very useful."
"Sure thing. Where'd'ya get this beauty?"
"Had it for a while. Don't tell the others."
"Won't, boss."
"Well. Do your best."
The doors are slammed shut again. "Will do. Good luck with the vampires."
Bobbi comes around, climbing into the driver's seat. "What did he give you?" Natasha asks.
Bobbi grins, starting the car. "Oh, I'll tell you sometime later."
  They drive for about an hour and a half, or maybe two. It's really been forever that Natasha was outside the city, in broad daylight no less. And she's so exhausted that she nods off several times, only to be rattled awake by a bump in the road.
It's quite deserted. The vampires may have hit the big cities the hardest but the countryside wasn't exactly spared. Most of all, people do not trust each other anymore and they avoid congregating, as if that would attract the monsters. In some ways, it does. Only about half of the fields are actually being farmed.
The house is half tucked away into a little forest, built out of broad wood planks, many gables. Bobbi tells her to wait, climbing out alone. Natasha leans forward, trying to get a better view. Not a person in sight, let alone another house. This is quite literally the end of the road.
However, before Bobbi reaches the house, a woman appears between the trees, rifle slung around her shoulder. She's rather tall, though not as tall as Bobbi, brown hair, and rather not up for a chat. Thick brown coat with what looks like fox fur around the neck. Bobbi raises her hands as she approaches her, though the woman shows no signs of reaching for a weapon.
The baby kicks hard and Natasha groans, slumping over, holding her belly for fear that it'll break. She wonders whether Tony meant that literally, with the baby breaking through her stomach and crawling out, or just- the tight skin holds for now and that’s all she’s going to think about.
The two women are still exchanging tense words. Natasha notices their host has binoculars around her neck, as if she just came back from the hunt. Animal hunt. Probably the only way to get food around here. Thinking about meat makes-
The baby kicks again, this time longer, even harder, and Natasha gasps and bends over, slumping onto the dashboard, moaning in pain as her belly's pushed out from inside repeatedly. She can almost feel the shape. The car door is being opened. "Hey, are you okay? Come on, let's get you inside so you can lay down."
She can't breathe. "Is she okay?" the other voice asks.
"Under the given circumstances," Bobbi replies, unfastening her seatbelt and reaching around. "But I'm gonna need a hand."
  Natasha can't remember or imagine how they got from the car to her lying on a couch, under a blanket, with a hot bowl of soup. The kicking has subsided for now but she still feels the soreness from the last time.
The house is quite dark inside with all the wood and so few windows. There are antlers on the walls, stuffed pheasants, at least one set of vampire fangs. Trophies. A shudder goes down her spine, despite the warm blanket and the chimney fire. The cold winter wind rattles the tiny windows, cuts around the edges, trying to claw its way in. The room is lit solely with candles, probably no electricity in the house.
“Hey.”
The brown-haired woman is sitting behind a big wooden table, face bright against the wooden wall, candle light dancing over her skin. There’s meat on the table, cooked meat. Natasha’s belly contracts almost painfully. Bobbi is nowhere to be seen.
“You’re Russian, aren’t you,” the woman remarks.
Natasha snorts, staring at the ceiling that’s so dark she can’t really see it. “Is that the first thing you ask?”
The woman shrugs, opening a flask of liquor with a biting smell escaping immediately. “I don’t mind.”
She sounds Czech which means she most likely speaks Russian but, like Pepper, clearly does not want to. “Where’s Bobbi?”
“Toilet’s outside,” the woman replies briefly, taking a sip from the flask. “You hungry?”
The smell of the meat is overwhelming, to a degree it shouldn’t be. Natasha tucks the blanket up to her chin. “Yeah.”
The woman makes her way out from behind the table, bumping into it or the bench several times. The rifle is hanging on the wall behind the door, as Natasha notices. The vampire fangs are right over the fireplace. “You killed a vampire?”
The woman nods, grabbing the plate with the meat and sitting down on the couch table, also made of heavy wood, holding out the plate. “You mind?”
The meat is cooked but it still smells of blood. Natasha can’t resist grabbing a piece with her bare hands and stuffing it in her mouth, shaking her head. She’s a hunter. She’s always been a hunter. She- She needs to devour all of this bloody meat right now.
The woman merely raises an eyebrow as Natasha rips the plate from her hands and starts wolfing it down, barely taking the time to chew, tasting the flesh, the blood, the dead life of it. She inhales it so fast that she gags, coughs, spits it out and shoves it in her mouth again, unable to stop. When she’s done, the plate entirely empty, fingers greasy and dirty, she leans back, exhausted. The woman is still watching her quietly. Natasha clears her throat, uncomfortable. “Do you live here alone?”
The woman shrugs, not moving otherwise. “Less people to worry about.”
She feels that. “I’m Natasha.”
“Maria,” the woman replies. “Maria Kopecká.”
The door opens, cold rush of air, then closes quickly behind Bobbi who’s stamping her feet to get rid of the mud. “Phew. Gotta say, taking a dump outside in the dark is quite the adrenaline boost.”
The woman- Maria gets up and pours water from a bucket into a big bowl. “Here. To wash your hands.”
“Thanks.” Bobbi rolls her sleeves up, looking towards Natasha. “Hey. Feeling better?”
She must have grease around her mouth, probably, with how fast she was devouring the meat. Embarrassing. She wipes it with the back of her hand quickly, which is not exactly clean either. “Mhm. Yeah.”
Bobbi dips her hands in the water, then grabs the bar of soap. “I see you already got something to eat.”
Maria makes her way around to the back of the hut, opening a cupboard. “She’s quite hungry. I’ll open a can.”
Her stomach growls at the mention of more food. “She needs to eat a lot,” Bobbi remarks. drying her hands off. “I hope you’re stocked.”
Maria huffs, pulling a can opener from a drawer. “Always.”
Bobbi turns, crossing her arms. “So, how do you know Fury, if I may ask?”
The can opener cuts through the metal deftly. “Work,” Maria replies. “Before.”
“Oh, I see.” Bobbi’s eyes drift to the vampire fangs over the fireplace, placed prominently. “Do lots of vampires come by here?”
“Few,” Maria states, grabbing a pot and pouring the content of the can into it. “Last one I shot was two months ago.”
“Huh.” Bobbi walks over to the couch, making space for her to narrowly sit, reaching for Natasha’s wrist. “Let me take your pulse.”
It feels rather quick but she’ll let Bobbi decide. Maria hangs the pot over the fireplace. It smells of sour tomatoes. The fiery light accentuates the harsh lines of her face. Bobbi checks her watch. "Mhm. Better give you a dose. Have you tried getting up?"
Her fingers are really greasy. "No."
"How did you come to be with that vampire thing?" Maria asks, peering out through the window.
Well, that. "I'm going to inject another dose," Bobbi announces, letting go of her wrist and getting up.
Natasha clears her throat, tucking the greasy hands under the blanket. "Just… just how anyone else comes to be with child."
Maria turns around, seeming unconvinced. "Really."
It would be great if she could disappear into the couch never to be seen again. "Gimme your arm, darling," Bobbi asks, sitting down on the couch table.
"And what's that?" Maria asks, crossing her arms.
"Vampire blood," Bobbi replies, looking for a vein. "Not from that guy. It helps with cell regeneration, healing and strength and… I really don't know how it works, but it works."
"You're a weird bunch," Maria remarks, crouching down in front of the fireplace and stirring the pot.
Natasha gets the empty feeling in her arm as the vampire blood floods in. "Do we really have everything here? No offense, but Fury said it would have more… equipment."
Maria straightens, walking across the room and pulling open a floor hatch Natasha hadn't noticed. "Oh, don't worry, it's all downstairs."
"Electricity, too?" Bobbi asks.
"There's a generator outside," Maria explains, peering down. "I don't run it usually because it might attract vampires, but it should work."
"Let's hope it does," Bobbi says. "Not that I haven't worked under candlelight but it'd be better if I didn't have to."
"It'll work," Maria states.
Bobbi sighs. "Okay. So, Nat, I… we haven't talked about this yet but I would like to induce early."
Natasha is too tired for this. "What does that mean?"
"Induce birth," Bobbi adds. "Basically, you take a pill and then the contractions start. I'd check again that the baby is big enough but I think it already is."
"Why, though?" Natasha asks. "Why not wait?"
"Every day of pregnancy brings more risk," Bobbi replies. "And the birth will be easier if the baby is not that big yet, so less complications. And we might just not have the time, depending on whatever else happens."
"And you're sure that's not bad for the baby?" Natasha questions.
Bobbi snorts. "Trust me, that thing has the most solid vitals I've ever seen."
"I wouldn't worry about that thing ," Maria interjects, holding the hatch open. "So, do you want to go down or can I close it?"
"I'll check it out," Bobbi replies, standing. "Natasha, just stay here for now."
Maria holds the hatch open dutifully and hands her a candle. "You need my help down there?"
"Should be fine," Bobbi replies, carefully climbing down the creaking wood. "Is that- oh."
"The hatch opens from inside," Maria states and closes it promptly.
The food over the fireplace smells quite strongly, tomato and something like pasta. Maria crosses over and stirs it again. "So. You fucked a vampire."
When Natasha doesn't reply immediately, Maria adds: "Or did a vampire fuck you?"
Natasha sighs. Jesus Christ. Why is all of this so complicated? "No, no, I… I fucked a vampire."
"Huh." Maria pulls her sleeves over her hands and lifts the pot off the fire. "Why?"
"I liked him," Natasha replies, immediately worrying about the past tense that came out so naturally. Why does it matter to her so much? Maybe she's never going to see him again, and… she's already lost so much, and there's nothing he can do to really change her situation, and she's doing this for herself anyway, they're not going to be a family - but she hasn't worried about dying since she got to know him, knew he wouldn't let anything happen to her- at least until she turned out pregnant. Does she really love the monster because he's strong enough to protect her?
Maria is watching her attentively, not clear whether she said anything or not. Natasha rubs her eyes demonstratively. "Sorry. I'm very tired."
"You can sleep on the couch," Maria states. "I usually sleep on the bench. Or on the floor."
Natasha nods, closing her eyes and crawling further under the blanket until she's lying almost flat, pretending to be already out. Bobbi is doing something downstairs, though it's very hard to hear, and Maria starts eating out of the pot, by the sound of it. The wind is very loud once it's silent.
After some time, the hatch creaks open and Bobbi climbs up again. "Good equipment, I gotta say."
She walks right past Natasha, even stops to look. Maria is quiet. "I thought that was for her."
"She wanted to sleep."
"Oh well. Let's not let it go to waste, then."
Bobbi finally walks away and Natasha can breathe normally again. The floor creaks, and the bench creaks. Everything in this house is dead and alive at the same time.
"So, all this stuff… is that from when you worked with Fury? It's not exactly new."
"Yes."
"Huh. So you're a doctor?"
"No."
"There was someone else?"
"Not… everyone is still here."
"Oh, I see. Emigration or vampires?"
"Both."
"I actually immigrated pre-vampires. Because everyone else emigrated."
Maria laughs, barely distinguishable from the rattling wind. "Bad choice, if you ask me."
"Oh, well. It's certainly very folksy, with the antlers and all."
"Rusty beyond repair."
"You're quite pessimistic. I thought there was quite a spirit of… I mean, after the stagnation of the 70s and 80s, and with Havel… of course, that was before the vampires."
"I think you're the one with the rosy eyes."
"The rosy glasses, yeah! It's probably nostalgia on my part, really."
"Nostalgia is fair. We had barely gotten back to where we were… and now this, of course. Best to resign to it."
"You certainly seem to have adapted to it. In your own way."
Maria snorts. "I'm not going to run around trying to stop something that cannot be stopped, fix something that cannot be fixed. Get my hopes up and have them crushed."
"That's absolutely fine. I mean, you're still helping us."
"Ah, well. I owe someone a favor."
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houseisekai · 3 years
Text
House Isekai: Shadowbringers -Interlude 1
House Isekai Shadowbringers AU Masterlist Here
Interlude: Konosuba Gang
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Directly after the events of Act 1: Finale...
As House Isekai moves to Derdriu after escaping Church Forces at Garreg Mach, they decide to camp for the night and rest before continuing their journey.
Finally having a moment of calm, Sitri decides to speak with one of the very first members of House Isekai...
[No Greater Sorrow - Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers OST]
Sara stopped the group and turned around to do a quick head count.
All the students were accounted for. Blue Lions and Black Eagles not too far behind.
...Then there was Lahabrea and Sothis, keeping an extremely far distance from everyone. She was hoping they’d keep it that way.
(Sara) “Campin’ here tonight boys and girls. Wouldn’t do us good to get ambushed when we’re exhausted.”
Everyone nodded and moved into the woods nearby and cleaned up a spot.
(Ainz) “We will create protection spells in case anyone is watching.”
(Futaba) “Leave scanning the area to me and Fuuka!”
(Mitsuru) “Understood. Us Persona users will secure the area then.”
(Akira) “Roger. Let’s get going.”
(Dimitri) “Suppose we can make the area comfortable to sleep in then.”
(Edelgard) “Seems fine to me.”
(Megumi) “ We will help as well.”
(Kazuma) “Guess we’ll get a fire goin’.”
Everyone had their assigned roles and got quickly to work.
The Phantom Thieves hopped into the trees and disappeared into the night as S.E.E.S, Class VII followed on foot.
The Denizens of Nazarick began casting spells and aiming it above the campsite.
Lahabrea and Sothis set their own mini camp away from everyone.
Sitri noticed Lahabrea staring at her, then quickly looking away.
(Sharon) “Miss Sitri?”
Sitri turned around and saw Sharon with her smile as Doomguy laid Byleth gently on the floor and began patrolling the area.
(Sharon) “Would you like to get some rest?”
(Sitri) “As much as I would, I don’t like everyone doing work as I do nothing. I will go help Kazuma and the others with the fire.”
She took one last look at Byleth before Sharon bowed at her.
(Sharon) “Rest assured, Byleth will be in good hands.”
(Sitri) “Thank you, Sharon.”
Sharon went back to Byleth and took out some strange device and looked over him. Knowing she was not being any help by standing, she went after Kazuma.
...
(Megumin) “Hm...You know I just realized I can’t really see at all.”
(Aqua) “I can see just fine.”
(Kazuma) “Then hurry up and find some good firewood, would ya? Place is creepin’ me out.”
(Darkness) “If there are beasts here, I will intercept it!”
(Kazuma) “Listen we are NOT getting killed because you want to fuel your sick feti-”
Snap!
(Megumin) “W-WHO’S THERE?!”
Aqua turned around reaching for her staff before easing up.
(Aqua) “Oh, hi Sitri.”
(Sitri) “H-Hello...”
Sitri brought up a torch and looked at the four.
(Sitri) “Would you like some help?”
(Kazuma) “Sure. Though, shouldn’t you be resting?”
(Sitri) “I could ask the same for everyone. You all have been working and fighting tirelessly.”
(Darkness) “Hah, this is nothing, Mrs. Eisner! Byleth took us through worse!”
(Kazuma) “Pah, bullshit! He never trained us for all out war!”
(Megumin) “Kazuma! S-Sorry Mrs. Sitri, he can’t really control his language.”
Sitri couldn’t help but laugh.
(Sitri) “It’s quite fine. Jeralt wasn’t exactly the type of person to filter himself either.”
As she walked over to the group she began thinking to herself.
(Megumin) “If...I can say something, Sitri. We all knew Jeralt during our year at the Academy. He was a good man, and a good father. He talked about you almost every other day.”
(Darkness) “Indeed. I wish he was here to see you now.”
(Kazuma) “You uh...have our condolences.”
(Sitri) “...Thank you. It brings me some level of peace to know how he was...”
She looked up at the night sky longingly.
(Sitri) “Just like all those years ago...”
(Aqua) “By the way, why did you follow us out here of all people? Any reason?”
(Sitri) “No, not particularly. I’ve just had a few questions I’ve been wanting to ask.”
(Kazuma) “Hm? ‘Bout what?”
(Sitri) “Well, I think that floating girl to start. Everyone called her Sothis, but if I recall correctly Sothis was an all divine goddess.”
(Aqua) “Psh, divine my butt! She’s a little gremlin!”
Aqua had a smirk on her face, which confused Sitri.
(Sitri) “Gremlin?”
(Kazuma) “Eh, don’t mind the useless goddess here. She started a lotta bullshit between then two.”
(Aqua) “DID NOT!”
(Megumin) “A-Anyways, we don’t know the true story ourselves. But...from what I heard from other members of House Isekai, she was a true friend.”
(Kazuma) “Not was, IS, a good friend.”
(Sitri) “I’m not sure I understand then. You all seemed so hostile to her.”
(Aqua) “It...may not make any sense but she isn’t OUR Sothis. The Sothis we knew infused herself into Byleth during the encounter with Jeralt’s killers.”
(Kazuma) “Though that’s a story you need to hear from your son and not us. Anyways, only a select few of us could see her during the Academy. We didn’t know the true nature of her, but all we know is that she was with Byleth when it all began. Preeetty sure we were the first ones to meet her actually.”
(Sitri) “You were the first to arrive in Fodlan? Oh, by the way I think I may have found some wood.”
(Aqua) “Yeah, first us, Class VII, then Megumi, then everyone started pouring in.”
(Darkness) “Hm...No, too damp. It wouldn’t light properly. And yes, we were. The four of us were in Kazuma’s mansion when we suddenly found ourselves flung into a battle at Remire Village. It was there we rescued Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude alongside Byleth and Jeralt.”
(Sitri) “So he became a mercenary like his father...”
(Megumin) “Very good one at that! When we first met him, he didn’t seem to have too much emotion. Though overtime he became a great teacher!”
Sitri smiled as she continued looking.
(Sitri) “...Thank you for taking care of him.”
(Darkness) “If anything, I feel like that we should thank you, Sitri. We don’t know the full story, but you sacrificed yourself so that your child could live.”
(Sitri) “It’s something any mother would do for her child. Though I can safely say I had no intention of...being resurrected, I am happy to see my son alive and well.”
Her smile quickly faded when she started to think again.
(Sitri) “But...Why did Lahabrea resurrect me? He appears to be my son but-”
(Kazuma) “Frankly, I think we should be careful of that asshole. I don’t know what’s going on with him exactly, but I KNOW he doesn’t have our best interest at heart.”
(Aqua) “Right? Plus she resurrected her using some dark magic! That can NOT end up being good!”
(Sitri) “...”
Minato walked past them, not even facing their direction.
(Minato) “Could try and NOT talk like Sitri isn’t even there.”
(Kazuma) “Oh piss off, Arisato. Like you’re one to give me a lecture about manners.”
(Minato) “Hmph.”
(Sitri) “Um...Pardon my rude manners but are you all always this...um...-”
(Kazuma) “Dysfunctional?”
(Aqua) “Aggressive?”
(Darkness) “Violent?”
(Megumin) “Insane?”
(Sitri) “...Well I was going to use nicer words, but considering our first meeting was launching my body into the air and strangling each other-”
(Megumin) “Yeah, most of the time.”
(Kazuma) “House Isekai says you get used to it after a while.”
(Sitri) “I...suppose that’s true. I guess it’s not entirely set in since I’ve only awoken just a few days ago.”
(Aqua) “Alright, these ought to be good. Everyone got something?”
Everyone held up some wood and started to walk back to camp.
(Kazuma) “Oh hey, you finally weren’t useless.”
(Aqua) “Shut up, NEET.”
Sitri looked puzzlingly at them. She could tell they cared about each other, but why were they so...mean?
As they continued to walk, they saw Lahabrea sleeping underneath a tree nearby the camp with Sothis nowhere to be found.
(Aqua) “I got a real bad feeling about him...”
(Kazuma) “I’ve noticed him staring at us, including Sothis while we were walkin down the road.”
(Sitri) “Perhaps there’s a reason he looks like my son?”
(Megumin) “It better be a good one. We haven’t had the best experience with impersonators if you haven’t noticed.”
(Darkness) “Not to mention your resurrection appears to play a key role in all of this as well...”
Sitri looked at her hands and furrowed her brow.
(Sitri) “...Am I?”
(Kazuma) “Well, once we get to Derdriu and meet up with Claude I suppose we’ll get our answer. No use bustin our brains trying to figure shit out so early.”
(Aqua) “Oh hey, you finally said something intelligent-”
(Kazuma) “Fuck off.”
Sitri giggled.
(Sitri) “I guess you were right, you do get used to this.”
(Darkness) “That was....alarmingly fast.”
(Megumin) “Oof, whatever I’m exhausted. Let’s hit the hay yeah?”
(Sitri) “Oh um...”
The four turned around and faced Sitri, eyebrow raised.
(Sitri) “Thank you for taking care of my son.”
[This Beautiful Cruel World - Attack On Titan OST]
They all smiled and raised their arms in unison.
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Without another word, the four went to their spot to sleep.
Sitri smiled and was about to sleep when suddenly a pain flashed in her head.
“…I can’t believe I’m missing her.”  
“...do me one favor in case I go down for good this time? Protect everyone else. You’re the only one I can rely on for that.”    
“Do not hesitate to call upon me or the others should the need arise. We will take care of you in these times…”   
“Edelgard, what did you do…?!”
Sitri shook her head once the pain was gone.
(Sitri) “What was that...?”
She looked at the four who were setting up their beds, yelling at each other with profanity.
There was no way they had said all those things at her once.
...So why did their voices sound clear as day, and what was going on?
Her eyes glazed over to Byleth, who was finally put to rest with Megumi, Sara, and some of the other staff and House Reps looking over him.
She then turned to Lahabrea and frowned again.
(Sitri) “What have you started, my son...?”
INTERLUDE: END
Your dream is where your heart is
It’s something more fragile than life itself
No matter how many times you throw it away, you still find it
So rest in peace now
Your wish is violated by your pulsing urge
and as much as you forget about it, you recall it again
In this beautiful and cruel world
We only ask “why” we’re still alive…
Ah, what are we going to protect
with our strength and weakness? If reason no longer exists
TO BE CONTINUED IN:
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benisasoftboi · 3 years
Text
Unorganised thoughts on Trails of Cold Steel II:
they still haven’t told me why it’s Class VII
So I liked this WAY more than CS1, thumbs up
I am annoyed that the only new location was Ymir (WHAT A COINCIDENCE that all the important places in the war were specifically ones Rean had been to already)
I just really wanna go to Parm idk
Bless Anton for showing up right at the end and giving me just enough AP to make A0
(fav Anton and Ricky subplot yet, god I love those guys)
I LOVED how tactile all the reunions were! I love it when fictional characters hug it makes me happy
I found it extremely funny that the final boss straight up tells the characters ‘hey, there’s literally no point to fighting me, you’ll gain nothing except closure I guess’ like that’s VERY on the nose and meta for a final boss
The game does have some real ending fatigue though, I don’t think we needed the epilogue
I did like the final boss though - up until that point, I had become so good at using my Dream Team of Rean, Elliot, Machias and Jusis (or Nuke-sis, as I call him, for his insane levels of arts damage output) that everything had got kinda dull for me. But final boss was actually a challenge, I had to think rather than just using the strategy that had worked on everything else
Which was Rean delays, Elliot heals/deals arts damage, Jusis drops arts nukes, and Machias does miscellaneous support/uses his link ability to keep Jusis’s EP topped up
Oh yeah I had them linked through pretty much the whole game and they hated it and it was super funny
So OH MAN, in their linked victory battle ending screen thing, Jusis goes ‘not bad, you actually held your own for once’
And it’s a little muffled, so the first time I heard it I swear I thought Machias responded with ‘you know what you can hold? Your damn top!’ and I dropped my controller. Had to go out of my way to win another battle with a link attack because no, no way-
He
Um
He said ‘tongue’
Anyway, characters!
Rean: Immediately upon starting up the game I found Ride Along Estelle in my DLC inventory and equipped it in the hopes that it would inspire Rean to be a better protagonist. It... kinda worked? I don’t hate him anymore, and I was pretty hyped to learn he was Osbourne’s son
And then Lloyd showed up immediately afterwards and I was like ‘oh wait here’s a protagonist I actually LOVE, nvm bye Rean lol’
Alisa: I literally never use Alisa unless the game makes me lol she was there and I don’t hate her but also I cannot remember a single interesting thing she did. Even during her one bit of plot relevance she was overshadowed by Angelica it’s hilarious that the marketing makes her out to be the deteuragonist 
Elliot: A GOOD BOY who served me incredibly well with his off the charts healing crafts, I can’t believe I started CS1 not liking him much and thinking him useless. I love the little dance he does in his idle animation
Laura: I still like Laura, I wish she was more plot relevant. I don’t feel strongly about her, but she’s always a welcome addition to any scene
Machias: Unpopular opinion probably but I really like him, even if his outfit in this game was awful. So are his alt outfits. Fashion disaster. I bought him contact lenses from a shady highway business man because he looks better without glasses. I made him ludicrously bulky, if he’d just had some kind of taunt craft to protect Jusis (squishy mage) with he’d be a perfect tank
I’m a fan of him in a ‘this is my trash son’ kind of way lol
Emma: Uhhh kinda boring which is impressive since she’s actually important and pseudo-related to Vita and all. Btw I guessed she was a witch in chapter goddamn three of CS1 after reading the folklore book, and I find it extremely wild that it’s either a dragged out, foregone conclusion if you have read the book, OR witches even existing is completely out of nowhere if you haven’t
Jusis: My favourite, because I’m basic. But like, he’s seriously the most interesting of the guys, and I made him Rean’s best friend (only one I got to rank 7 with lol). And his bonding event in Bareahard was so gooood!
I find it incredibly funny that he insists he and Machias aren’t friends because 1. Yes you are and 2. Do you even have any other non-Rean friends, guy? You literally never hang out with anyone else unless it’s plot related
Still low key ship it. Enjoy that Rean does too, apparently. Still reeling over their Trial Chest’s quote
His second S-Craft is ridiculous looking
Fie: Most interesting girl, love how she just doesn’t get flustered ever, funniest character, best girl in the game, what the HELL was that outfit
Gaius: I keep forgetting Gaius exists lol. I don’t dislike him, but he’s not very interesting to me. He’s Zin, or Noel
Millium: Man do I want to know more about Millium. Her whole thing about learning to cry... so sad and SO fascinating. What is the deal with her and Altina?!?
Sara: I hated Sara at the start of CS1. Now I adore her. God she’s just the best. Please let her interact with Schera please please please Falcom
Towa: Cutest! She’s so cute and I still love her and I did her final event even though she is TOO GOOD for Rean! She got to be a captain! I love her!
As for more minor characters - still think Angie’s great, just wish she wasn’t kinda creepy about her love of girls, deeply dislike that the game ship teases her and GEORGE, who I still otherwise find inoffensive but also, you know, male, Alfin is great, Toval is great too and I still can’t get over him being Toby, stop teasing Claire with Rean let there be one woman who isn’t into him please, oh good Sharon’s here and they don’t do that with her and she’s awesome also can’t believe I used to not like her, more Olivier always please, same with Mueller, Celine is Morgana from P5 except better in every conceivable way, Crow :(, all the Ouroboros lot are great as always, and Elise is easily my least favourite character in this franchise and can get in the sun for all I care 
I read a transcript of the drama CD and hey Rean’s dad can also get in the sun for saying that his adopted son isn’t good enough to marry his biological daughter like where do you even start-
I love that I’ve gone from reacting to Ouroboros appearances like ‘oh shit oh no’ to going ‘oh shit it’s these fucking clowns (affectionate) again’
Still love Beryl. Also love Lambert
When they mentioned ‘Mueller’s friend’ I thought it would be Julia and I was so excited and then so disappointed that it was Neithardt who I still don’t like
Elliot’s dad looks ridiculous riding on top of that tank
I loved riding the bike around SO MUCH, even if it took me a while to get a hang of the controls  
Aurelia Le Guin is just Edelgard Fire Emblem, right? And Bardias is Claude? Except I guess this game came first, so like, other way around
Man I loved flying around on the Courageous. Also I FINALLY got a map, all I wanted in CS1 was to see a map of the country 
However, Act 1 was definitely my favourite part - the sequence where the kids have to sneak through the railway lines under the bridge to get to Garrelia is one of my favourite parts of this entire series. I kind of wanted the whole game to just be this group of teenagers trying to lay low and survive a civil war while also travelling and helping out from place to place
I uh... I want JRPG Life is Strange 2
Why is there a snowboarding minigame. I mean, I loved it, but... why is it there?
I still really miss the old battle orbment designs from Sky. The ARCUSs just aren’t as cool :(
I watched the secret Black Records scene on YouTube and I am so happy to finally have an explanation for Rosine, it was really bothering me that she seemed so out of place at a military academy
I’m very very hype to play CS3 based on the spoilers I have for who will be making appearances...
:D
Seriously why is everything in these games azure though just say blue-
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madame-airlock · 4 years
Note
Hey there! I was rewatching The Closer and stumbled upon episode 10 in season 7... and there is this scene when Brenda walks toward the interrogation room and the suspect is about to shoot her but Buzz saves her... I was wondering... are you up rewriting this with Sharon and Andy? Thank youuuuu 💜
Hi! Thanks for sending this 💜 It wasn’t easy rewriting the scene but I tried my best. Let me know if it’s okay :D Just a general disclaimer: I have absolutely no idea how the mind works. Every person, I imagine, has a different reaction to traumatic experiences. This is what I imagined although I’m not 100% sure it fits Sharon. I study linguistics, not psychology so this won’t be accurate, but hey... artistic licence. Enough with me. The story is under the cut (if it works), I hope you’ll enjoy it. The part in italics is a flashback. Some of the stuff in here is OOC, but it’s the beauty of fanfiction, isn’t it? Story also available on ffnet and ao3
It all happened so fast that it took Sharon a few minutes to understand what was going on. One moment, she was about to open the door to the interrogation room, the next she was lying behind a desk, with Andy's arms around her, while everyone around them had their guns out. Slowly the details of what had happened came back to her.
"Chief, if you don't mind, I'm going to ask your suspect a few questions." Said Sharon. Chief Johnson nodded and told her it wasn't a problem, so Sharon picked up the case file she had been reading and headed to the interrogation room.
Around the corner, Andy opened the door to Electronics and walked in. "Hey Buzz…" The words died in his throat when he saw their suspect, alone in the interrogation room, pointing a gun at the door. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sharon, and realised she was walking towards that room. 
She stopped in front of the door, and opened the case file again to check a couple details she couldn't seem to remember. As she read, she reached down to open the door. She pushed the door handle and in that moment a gunshot exploded and a bullet broke the door. At the same time, a pair of arms went around her and dragged her to the side, and behind a desk.
There was a lot of commotion around them. People had their guns drawn, and she heard screaming and shouting. "Hey, everything's okay. You're safe" said Andy, who was looking around to assess the situation, while still shielding her from the shooter.
Soon most of the noise died out, the suspect was handcuffed and his gun taken away. Andy finally looked down and saw her. She looked shaken, but he knew from experience that it would take her a few minutes to realise what had happened, because of the adrenaline. "Hey, Sharon, are you… oh shit." He looked up and yelled "I need a medic here! She's hurt"
Sharon looked up at him and said "I'm not hurt" Her voice was shaky, and it was only after he said that, that she started to feel the pain in her arm. The blazer was ruined. It was torn and blood has soaked the material around the wound. "Oh..."
Andy rose to his feet and helped her up. He team ran over to them, their worry growing as they noticed Sharon clutching her bloody arm. Before anyone could speak, Andy looked over at the chief and said "I'm going to take the Captain in the break room, away from here. When the paramedics arrived send them there, please"
The chief reassured him that she would and told them to go. Sharon still hadn't spoken, and she was looking around, shocked.
Andy helped her to take off her blazer, trying to be as gentle as he could, and helped her sit down. He closed the blinds, so people outside wouldn't look in and say down next to her. “Babe" Andy whispered "I…" When words failed him, he simply kissed her forehead and moved a little closer. "I almost lost you" he whispered.
It was so strange to see Sharon like that. She wasn’t speaking, and she looked like she was in a trance. Andy was wondering if part of it was also her trying to be strong at work even in a situation such as that one. All he knew was that he was worried. Tears were threatening to fall, so he stood up, went to grab a clean cloth they had in the break room, soaked it in warm water and started to clean up her bloodied arm.
"Andy…" she whispered. In that moment the door opened and the paramedics walked in. The wound didn't look too bad, it was a scratch, really, but it could have been much worse. She could have been on her way to a hospital, or in a body bag. He stayed by her side as they cleaned up the wound, stitching it up and helping her with a sling, kissing her forehead when she would wince in pain. "It's almost over, you'll be okay" he whispered.
A little after the paramedics left, Provenza opened the break room door and asked Andy to go out of the room for a second. "What?" he asked, already hating the idea that he wasn't with Sharon." Flynn, take her home. I'll deal with the chief. If she asks I can explain. I'll tell her to give you a couple days off. Now go, take her home and stay with her"
Andy was surprised to say the least. When Provenza had found out about their relationship a few months before, he had thrown a tantrum at Andy's house while Sharon was there, but had at least kept it quiet at work. Apparently he had come to his senses and realised that he and Sharon loved each other, that it wasn't just a fling. "Thanks, old man. I appreciate it." He said
"Sharon, babe, we're going home" Andy said. He took off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders, trying to cover the wound and the tank top she had been wearing under the blazer. Before they left the break room, Sharon looked at him with tears in his eyes and begged "Can you stay with me tonight, please?"  Andy cupped her cheek and kissed her softly. "Of course", he replied with a smile.
Together they walked out and went to the murder room to retrieve their things. They ran into then chief and Andy told her to find Provenza. That he could explain.
Once they got to the car, Andy helped Sharon in and started driving to the condo and as they got closer, she broke down. He held out his hand for her and she grabbed it as if it was the only thing keeping her sane. "Oh god Andy" she muttered before she started to cry and shake. He parked the car in her spot and leaned over to hold her as she started to weep. "Let's go upstairs, Sharon" he whispered after a few minutes. 
He held her hand as they went upstairs, keeping her close. Luckily it was the middle of the afternoon and no-one was in the corridors. He quickly opened the door to her apartment and they went in. As the door closed, it was as if everything that has happened came crashing down. Sharon started sobbing, and all Andy could do was hold her in his arms and gently caress her back in a soothing way, to help her calm down.
She could barely breathe. Her knuckles were white and her hand hurt from holding the back of his shirt so tightly but she couldn't let go. She had almost died. If it hadn't been for Andy, she'd be in a body bag. "Babe, why don't we go sit down?" he asked. Instead of the couch Sharon headed for the bedroom. They laid down together and Andy wrapped himself around her, to hold her tightly to him, but still careful of her injured arm.
As she sobbed and he held her, Andy realised that if he hadn't seen her, if he hadn't walked in the break room, she wouldn't be there in his arms. He kept telling himself to be strong. He couldn't break down. Sharon would probably tell him he didn't have to be strong for her, that he too had every right to cry, to let it out, but he just couldn’t. Andy tightened the hold on her and kissed her hair. He whispered "It's okay babe. Let it out. You're safe now, you're home", and kept repeating it over and over.
It took her almost an hour, but Sharon eventually managed to calm down. She wasn't sobbing anymore. There were still some tears rolling down her cheeks, and her eyes were puffy, but her breathing was back to normal and she had loosened the hold on him. All Andy had done was reassure her and kiss her forehead. He had held her and told her that he loved her. Eventually she fell asleep, exhausted. Andy held her for a little longer and he kept stroking her hair. Gently, as not to wake her, he rolled her over so she could be comfortable, and got up from the bed to grab a blanket. He decided to lay down a few more minutes with her, mostly to reassure himself that she was there, safe, but then after a kiss and an “I love you” he got up from the bed.
When Sharon woke almost an hour later, she found a glass of water, some aspirin and a note on the bed side table.
I know you probably have a headache after all that crying. Take these and stay in bed. I needed to go to a meeting and I'll be back as soon as I can. I’ll bring dinner as well. Can't wait to cuddle you some more, sweetheart.
Love you, Your favourite sexy lieutenant, 
Andy
Sharon smiled at the note and the gesture. She sat up in bed and took the aspirin, before walking to the living room to retrieve her bag and her phone.  There were some missing texts and calls, mostly from her team and, surprisingly, Major Crimes. People checking on her and sending her her best wishes.
She was still replying to all the texts when she heard the key turn in the door and saw Andy walk in.  "Hey sweetheart" he said with a smile, when he noticed she was there. Sharon walked to him, stood on her tiptoes and pulled his head down, so she could kiss him. "Thank you for staying with me. I love you so much" she murmured against his lips, and kissed him again.
Andy hugged her and said "I'm glad you're okay. I have dinner with me. Why don't we sit?" To his surprise, Sharon ignored her own rule of no eating on the couch unless it's a game night so they could be closer. The mood was definitely better than before. While the experience would probably haunt them for a while more, at least now they could relax and enjoy the other's company.
After dinner they decided to cuddle on the couch while they watched a movie. Sharon was curled up next to him, and she had her head on his shoulder.  The only noise was from the TV, all around it was quiet. The peaceful atmosphere was broken by the ringing on Andy's phone. He groaned when he saw the chief's name pop up, but accepted the call. "Flynn." He simply said.
"Lieutenant sorry to bother you. I was just wondering how the Captain is doing" asked Brenda. Andy was surprised, but replied "She's better now. Uh, Chief, did Provenza…" he trailed off but luckily she understood "Don't worry, Lieutenant. He informed me of everything. The two of you are off until Monday. Rest, go to a meeting if you need to, and take care of her, okay?" He thanked her and ended the call.
Sharon was looking at him, expecting him to tell her he needed to leave, but he reassured her he was there to stay and told her what the chief had said. "Can we go to bed now?" She asked. Andy smiled at her and answered "Sure babe"
They held hands as they went to the bedroom. Andy helped her undress, and once they were down to their underwear, they snuggled under the blankets and held each other. It was unusual for them to sleep like that. Sharon would always wear at least an old tshirt, but both needed to feel as close as possible to the other, and apparently skin to skin was the best way for both. Sharon kissed him again, and thanked him for saving her life, for staying with her, and for holding her. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, Andrew Flynn, but I'm happy to have you in my life. I love you so much" she said.
That night they kissed a little longer and held each other a little tighter than usual, both eternally grateful to be there in each other's arms at the end of the day.
The next few days were mostly uneventful. They stayed home, ordered food and spent a lot of time together. Sharon encouraged Andy to go to meetings if he needed them, and when he'd come back, he'd always bring her something sweet from her favourite bakery. Her arm was healing well, but she'd had to put it in a sling for a few more days.
On Monday, Sharon woke up when Andy started showering her with kissed on her shoulder, neck and cheek. "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty. I have breakfast here for you" He helped her sit up and offered her a tray with coffee and a bowl with some cut up fruit and ice cream. Not her usual breakfast, but he'd been treating her like a queen for the past few days, and that apparently included ice cream at 7am. Not that she was complaining.
"Ready to go back?" He asked. Sharon nodded and finished her breakfast quickly so she could get ready.
An hour later, they were in the car, headed for the PAB. Andy noticed that she had tensed up as he pulled in the parking lot. "Hey, I'm here with you. You're safe, it's going to be okay" he said, taking her hand and kissing her quickly. They held hands as they rode up in the elevator, and Sharon stayed close to him. Only when the door opened to let other people in they untangled their fingers, but still remained side by side.
As they stepped off on the Major Crimes floor, Sharon had to stop for a moment to catch her breath and calm down. Ignoring where they were, and her rule of no PDA at work, Andy kissed her and took her hand, to lead her to the murder room.  His presence was helping her a lot, especially when they had to walk past that interrogation room. She moved closer to his side, and her nails almost broke the skin of his arm, but Andy didn't care. He whispered "it's okay, sweetheart. No one is there" and helped her walk past the door.
When they arrived in the murder room, Sharon was shocked to see Welcome back Captain written in huge letters on the white board, surrounded by doodles of balloons and confetti.  Someone, probably Provenza, had even drawn a Wicked witch with her arm in a sling.  The team all went to say hello to her.
Sharon's eyes were shining with tears. These guys had even bought a cake and flowers to celebrate her return. Never before she had felt more welcomed, accepted, respected and hell, even loved, like the people in that room. Most days they couldn't see eye to eye, but they all knew that, no matter the division she came from, she was still one of theirs, and it was a miracle she was still there.
Andy suspected that Provenza had told the entire team, not only the chief, what the nature of their relationship was, but frankly, he couldn't care less.
They celebrated for a little while, and all made sure to ask her how she was, and told her they were there if she needed anything. "Ma'am. We have something for you" Julio said as their little party was coming to an end. "Our favourite attorney, Gavin, told us that the blazer you had on the other day was your favourite and we're sorry that it was ruined. We decided to do something for you, with his help"
He handed her a bag and she opened it with shaky hands. Sharon gasped when she realised that they'd bought her a new blazer, just like the other one. She wiped away the tears, and Andy hugged her once again.
"Thank you, thank you all. This means a lot to me" she said. Her voice was trembling with emotion. "Don't think that this won't stop me from watching you like a hawk though" she chuckled, and the team laughed with her.
"Right, everyone, back to work. The wicked witch has turned soft. We better take advantage of the situation" exclaimed Provenza, taking the attention off of the Captain, who was starting to get a little uncomfortable. She mouthed a thank you and he nodded slightly.
Sharon went to sit at her temporary desk which, over the weekend, had been moved next to Andy's, with a happy smile on her face. Despite ecerything they'd put her through in the past few weeks, they were a bunch of good people, and a great team. When she shared the thought with Andy, he squeezed her hand and said "Of course love. We protect our own, and you're part of this team"
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