#ive realized that I’ve been masking so hard to not bring anyone down or cause problems and yet I still messed things up

[yoongjoong]

.. hmm

[niksixx]

Close to Perfect

Requested: My idea 

Pairing: The Dirt!Nikki Sixx x Fem!Reader 

Description: Your baby’s father doesn’t show up to the birth of your son, so Nikki takes his place. 

A/N: As always, your support is incredible. Reblog, comment, add tags <3 

Y/B/N: Your baby’s name

*Picture is NOT mine. Found on google. Credit to the owner.* 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a room filled with three other people that are comforting you and doing all they can to make you feel safe, you’ve never felt more alone and afraid. Sweat slicks every crevice of your body as you try to focus on the nurses hooking you up to machines and not the bone crushing contractions you’ve been feeling for an hour.

Your due date wasn’t quite near, but your baby boy wanted to make his appearance to the world a bit earlier. Your water had broke suddenly in the kitchen as you were preparing dinner, almost dropping the butter knife as the liquid trickled down your thighs. In a panic, you called the only person you could think of in that moment: Your son’s father.

As he chose not to be in your son’s life, it shouldn’t have surprised you that he refused to bring you to the hospital either. Begging and pleading as the contractions grew more frequent and painful did nothing but cause him to hang up the phone.

The only other option at that time was to call a cab, tipping generously at the end as the cab driver had to deal with your moans and whimpers from the backseat. Luckily there was a nurse with a wheelchair waiting for you at the entrance to the hospital.

As the nurses finish adjusting the IV, you wiggle around in the bed to try and find a comfortable position. A growl erupts from your belly, and instead of being graced with substance, you’re presented with ice chips.

While the contractions were growing more painful, you still weren’t fully dilated enough to start pushing. You opted for the epidural, promising to yourself that your next pregnancy would be all natural.

After the nurses left to wait on other patients, the solemn reality hit you. You were about to become a first time mother, and you were going to have to do it alone.

Calling your child’s father was useless. He’d never show up. He didn’t care enough about the life he helped create, and you refused to believe that you even needed him there. You could do this just fine on your own.

And then the epidural had worn off and as you reached ten centimeters dilation, it was time to finally push. But as the nurses and obstetrician were helping you adjust for labor, your cell phone chimed next to you.

With a stretch, you clicked the speaker, hoping to make the phone call quick as you were only minutes away from your first push. “Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N. You know that Def Leppard cutoff shirt I always wear?”

The doctor gives you a quizzical look. “Uh, Miss--.”

“Yeah, I do,” Trying to mask the groan of pain, you bite down hard on your lip. The intensity of the contractions is only growing stronger now, and you’re not sure how long you can last. “Listen, Nikki, now isn’t really a good time.”

“Wait, don’t hang up! I just need to know if I left it at your house last week. I can’t find it anywhere and Mick swears he didn’t steal it.”

Again, the doctor shoots you a look, one more annoyed this time. “Ma’am, we really need to--.”

“Nikki, I’m literally in the hospital about to give birth. Can the shirt wait?”

There’s a sharp breath on the other end after a long pause. Aside from your baby’s father, Nikki was the first person who had known about your pregnancy. You’d grown up together, and even visited Nikki and his band a few times while they were busy touring the world and playing music for anyone that’d listen.  “Right now?”

You nod. “Right now.”

He hesitates before asking the question he already knows the answer to. “Is he there?”

“No, Nikki. My water broke earlier and I called him to ask if he could bring me to the hospital. He hung up and I called a cab. Unfortunately, your shirt isn’t my main priority right now,” You laugh in good nature. Part of you is hurt, though. How could anyone neglect their responsibilities as a parent? How could anyone, any man, deny their child?

Neither one of you signed up for this life. The baby’s father had made it his priority to remind you that your child was merely an accident, and therefore he owed no responsibility for a child he never wanted.

Nikki had been more than a friend throughout your pregnancy. Caring for others was in his nature, apparently, but when it came to you, it felt different. He took care of you in ways he didn’t need to. Helping you bathe. Picking up food to ease your cravings. Holding you as you cried in his arms. He had always gone above and beyond for you even when he didn’t need to.

“I can be there in fifteen minutes,” There’s commotion on the other end of the line, most likely Nikki panicking to find his shoes and keys. Fifteen minutes isn’t ideal, and your doctor is certainly in a mood now as he stares at you with a blank expression, eyebrows pulled together. Another contraction hits and you grip the sides of your thighs tightly. “Y/N, I’m on my way. Don’t have that baby without me.”

~~~

Nikki is by your side shortly after your first push. Seeing him wide eyed and a bit frazzled eases your pain, and you’re glad he’s there now. You didn’t realize how much you needed his support.

“I’m here, I’m here,” He kisses your forehead quickly, reaching one arm around the pillow to cradle your head, other hand clasped tightly in yours. “Let’s have a baby, okay?”

You nod and focus on the doctor as he commands you to push. Unfortunately for the epidural wearing off, you feel every shred of pain. Sucking in a breath you push again and again, sweat beading your body as every ounce of energy is slowly being drained from your body.

“Baby’s crowning.”

Nikki gazes back at you, his look one of pure adoration. “You’re doing so good. Only a few more pushes okay? You can do this.”

His words make it feel possible. Your lips are dry so you lick them once before adjusting your grip on Nikki’s hand. “I can do this.”

“Ready, Y/N? And one...two...three…”

An ear splitting cry erupts throughout the room, and the weight is lifted off your shoulders as your squirming baby boy is placed on your chest. The blood and gunk on his tiny body isn’t even worth cringing over as you hold him against you. Tears course down your cheeks and drip off your chin, but Nikki is there beside you wiping them away, all the while completely mesmerized by your strength.

As much as you don’t want to let him go, you hand off your son to the nurses for a quick bath. Head against the pillow, your body is overcome with extreme fatigue. A hand comes up to your forehead, pushing the hair off your sweaty skin.

“I did it,” Pride swells in your chest. The morning sickness, the constant cravings, the heartburn, the back pain, everything was worth it. “I did it.”

And even pride swirls in Nikki’s heart. The road to your son’s birth hadn’t been smooth sailing. There were many bumps in the road, and Nikki knew more than anyone how much you had doubted yourself, your abilities to raise a child alone. But if anyone could overcome the adversity life threw at them, it was you. And you’d do it with passion and grace. “I’m so proud of you.”

~~~

Wrapped tightly in a white blanket, your baby boy is fast asleep against your chest. Your jealousy thickens as you observe his sweet little face sleeping so peacefully against your chest.

Almost as if he can hear your thoughts, Nikki pipes up from the chair by the window. “Are you tired? Do you want me to hold him?”

You’d have forever to hold your little boy, so you gingerly hand him over to an excited Nikki. After helping him reposition his arms to support the baby boy’s head, your own head sinks into the pillow, eyes fluttering shut.

“Hi, Y/B/N. It’s me, Uncle Nikki. I’ve been friends with your mother for a while now, and I want you to know that you have the best mommy in the world.” Your eyes fly open as quick as they had closed, and the sight in front of you warms your heart. Pressing a delicate kiss to your son’s head, Nikki holds him close. “Somedays, she’s going to struggle though. And when she does, I want you to know that I’m always going to look after her. She can do this alone,” Emotion clouds Nikki’s voice. “But I want her to know she doesn't have to.”

Something in the atmosphere changes. The man in front of you cradling your son as if he were his own had transformed before your eyes. Your heart had always held a soft spot for Nikki, and growing up it wasn’t uncommon for adults to assume you were romantically involved. You’d always denied a relationship between you and Nikki, but as you stare at him softly singing a lullaby to your son, the possibility of you and Nikki entertaining something more than friendship rose to the surface.

“And there’s something I never want you to forget, little one,” Nikki speaks to your son, but his eyes, so full of something that can’t be described as anything other than longing, are zeroed in on your face. “Your mother, even with all her flaws, her quirks, and her insecurities, she’s as close to perfect as one can get. And to be loved by her is something out of a dream.”

[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML Fic: Nathalie’s Gift Part 1

She sat up in the middle of the night.

She took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the darkness. She knew it was late, likely an hour or two away from sunrise.

She examined her surroundings until she saw him. There he was, sleeping in the chair at the end of the room. Gabriel Agreste, her boss, her ally, and the one she had fallen for, was asleep in a chair several feet away.

Ever since the defeat of the guardian and the plan to use Chloé to get the miraculous, she had been far too weak to be as mobile as she was in the past. Gabriel had set her up in his quarters, despite the mansion having dozens of rooms. He had reasoned that Adrien would never walk into his room without permission, so that it would never become apparent how her condition was deteriorating.

His logic wasn't entirely unfounded. She was constantly teetering towards the brink. Overuse of the once broken peacock miraculous has left her bedridden most days. Despite the miraculous no longer having such a negative effect now, she knew the damage was already done. 

Yet he hasn't discarded her, was it out of loyalty that he felt the need to care for her despite being more of a burden? Did he perhaps start to feel something more for her as this whole debacle went on.

The later of which was unlikely, she knew better than anyone that Gabriel was far too loyal to his wife to entertain such a notion. So long as he believed there was a chance of bringing her back, he wont stop. She could never be Emilie Agreste, the love of his life and mother of Adrien. She was Nathalie Sancoeur, trusted assistant, and partner in crime. 

She forced herself out of bed. Moving quietly as to not awaken the sleeping mogul.

She snagged her tablet, and the peacock miraculous that was next to it.

She moved to the office and sat in the office chair. Perhaps she could get some work done while she was awake. And should she feel the need to speak to someone, the blue bird Kwami would be a fitting companion.

She started looking through work but her mind kept wandering to one thought

So long as Emilie could be brought back, he could never love me. I could never replace her.

She coughed.

“Not that it matters, I am on borrowed time as it is.” She commented to herself.

She stopped herself as she let her own comment sink in.

She was on borrowed time.

With how she was now, how much time did she have, a few months? A year? Maybe a decade if she really tried to take care of herself. But it wasn't like she was sick with a normal illness. But would Gabriel be able to get the miraculous? Even with everything they had, Ladybug and Chat noir always seemed to best them at every turn. At the rate things were going, she would likely end up in a glass coffin as well, and if Gabriel fails...

In that moment of worry. An idea that could fix everything slipped into her brain.

It was a long shot sure, there was a possibility that everything will backfire. But she needed to do it.

She exited out of her work and went into the security feed using her tablet. She disabled the secret camera hidden in the lair below.

She started making a few preparations.

_______________________________________________________________________

Gabriel awoke to his phone’s sudden vibrating.

He quickly shook himself and looked at his phone.

“The alarm was tripped. Someone damaged Emilie’s chamber!”

The fashion mogul rushed out of the room. His thoughts were firing through his brain a mile a minute.

Who found the lair? Was it one of the heroes? A spy? Who would dare desecrate my beloved wife’s container?

The fashion mogul made his way to the secret elevator.

A purple Kwami emerged from the pocket of the rushing fashion designer.

“Is something wrong master?”

“It appears there is an intruder in the secret sanctum.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“Im going to show them the error of their ways. Nooru, Dark wings rise.”

Gabriel transformed into the villainous hawkmoth, His face covered by a silver mask, and is candy cane color scheme replaced with a purple suit. 

He was armed and ready to fight should. 

As the elevator reaches the bottom. Hawkmoth dashes out as soon as it opens.

He would strike quick, and take care of the intruder before they realized who they were facing.

As he approached, he stopped dead in his tracks. As he noticed someone standing infront of the Glass container.

“Hello?” The figure called out. Her voice having a familiar tone that caught the butterfly villain off guard.

As his rage diminished, he felt his vision clear and noticed the shattered glass on the floor, along with the glass container that was now broken.

“It... It can't be...” Hawkmoth’s words escaped as he realized who was standing in front of him.

“Can you tell me where I am? I woke up in this... thing over hear. Im not entirely sure what’s going on.”

“Emilie... is that you?” Hawkmoth questioned, unsure if this was a dream, or if by some miracle the love of his life was indeed back from the abyss.

“How do you know my name Mr. Masked man?”

“Nooru, dark wings fall.”

The blond woman watched as the costumed stranger revealed himself.

“Gabriel? Is that you?”

A tear spilled from his eyes as he rushed to her. 

“You're here. How is... How is this possible?”

“I... I dont...” She started to stumble as she walked towards him. Her vision was starting to fade and the world was spinning.  

Gabriel quickly moved to catch her as she suddenly fell.

He felt his heart panic, but he could hear her breathing. She was simply sleeping.

“Perhaps it would be best to take her out of her.”

Gabriel walked to the elevator, his wife in his arms, asleep yet very alive. 

His mind had 1000 questions, but in this moment, he didn't care. He was holding the woman he loved in his arms again, and thats all that mattered.

___________________________________________________________________

“Gabriel!” She cried out as she woke up.

Sunlight was beaming from the window, it was clear it had been bright out for sometime.

She felt sheets underneath her. What she expected was a hard floor in a weird sanctum but now she felt the comfort of a room that felt familiar.

She heard the door open and looked to see her husband carrying a tray.

“Oh good, you're awake.” He spoke with soft relief.

She looked at the tray.

“Are those.”

“Lemon tea cookies. Your favorite.”

She smiled at him as he brought the tray to her bedside. Allowing her to snag a bite of one of them.

“So good!” She said as she finished her first cookie. “I feel like I haven't eaten in years!”

Gabriel’s expression faltered. She could see the pained expression as she said that.

“Gabriel... how long was I gone?” Her question verbally stabbed him.

He took a moment to process the curious expression on his wife’s face as she continued eating the tray of treats.

He looked down at his hands.

“A year and 6 months.”

She gulped down her cookie hard at the revelation.

“Wow... I've been gone for so long... Adrien must be taller then... ADRIEN!”

Emilie grabbed her husband by the collar.

“Where is Adrien?!”

“He’s at school” Gabriel answered.

Emilie blinked.

“School? You mean he is no longer being homeschooled?”

“He still has some lessons, but he was insistent on trying to go to school like other children his age. It was more ideal for him to go out than for him to be stuck here most hours of the day.”

Emilie processed that information.

“I see, I am surprised you said yes. You always said you hated public schooling.”

“I still believe the school systems are... inferior, but Adrien’s grades haven't faltered according to Nathalie. So I don't bother intervening.”

“My boy has grown up so much since Ive been gone. Wait, is he dating yet? Please tell me I didn’t miss his first crush!”

“Emilie, I am sure that you didnt miss anything. You and Adrien can catch up once you are rested and he is back from school.”

Emilie took a deep breathe.

“Okay, You're right. It will be nice to hear everything from him.”

She looked around the room a bit and noticed the vase full of roses.

“Oh, fresh roses. Gabe-y you cheesy romantic.”

Gabriel felt his cheeks go pink.

“It was... the room needed some color in it.”

“Much like those red pants you insist on wearing.”

“They are fashionable.”

“If you were in charge of candyland perhaps.”

Emilie loved to tease him about is fashion calls.

“Who is the fashion designer here?” He said with a mock stern tone.

“Speaking of fashion, that costume that you were wearing. That didn’t look like the peacock miraculous.”

Gabriel’s tone shifted to genuinely serious. He figured the time would come to answer that question.

“It is the butterfly miraculous. After your...departure. Nathalie and I investigated the temple where you and I had found the peacock miraculous. We discovered a new miraculous, one that wasn't damaged.”

Gabriel felt a twinge mentioning Nathalie. When he had rushed to bring Emilie up here, he felt guilt and relief that his assistant wasn't in the bed. He would have quite a difficult time explaining that one, even if nothing happened.

“So with that miraculous you were trying to find a way to bring me back.”

“It was a means to an end.”

Emilie processed the information she was told.

“Gabriel, I want you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“No more miraculous. None.”

Gabriel blinked.

“But...”

“Those jewels are nothing but trouble. It has only caused our family suffering and pain.”

Gabriel was surprised by the claim, but he knew she was correct. The miraculous have been quite the curse on the family, despite the powers they gave.

“It will take time for me to stop using it outright, there is a... situation with how I’ve been using it. Your sudden appearance and the disappearance of Hawkmoth might be suspicious.”

Emilie looked at Gabriel intensely.

“Hawkmoth? Gabriel what did you do?”

“Well... in order to try an bring you back, the butterfly miraculous wasn't going to be able to accomplish that goal. So the only way I could bring you back with certainty was to attain the ladybug and Cat miraculous.”

The former actress listened as her husband explained how he became a super villain for the sake of getting the jewels.

“Unbelievable.”

“I admit, explaining it makes it sound a lot worse than it actually is. I planned to fix any damage caused once I got the jewels”

“And what if people found out your identity!? You would have been thrown in prison and left our son an Orphan!” Emilie pointed her finger in his chest.

“It was the only way I could think of to attain the miraculous. How else would I have been able to confirm the miraculous were in Paris?”

Emilie was ready to let him have it. But she felt herself calm down. She had to admit, in a weird way, it was quite romantic. Something out of a tragic romance novel.

“I should be angrier with you, but I know if the situation was reversed and I had a way of bringing you back, I would have likely tried the same thing, albeit in a smarter way.”

Gabriel felt a bit of relief seeing his wife not so cross with him.

“So we figure out how to orchestrate your ‘Defeat’ and then we say good bye to the miraculous for good.”

“We will plan it out when you are completely better. Though this does raise the question. How are you back?”

Emilie pauses, she tries to think back.

Protect the Agreste family... no matter what.

She heard that phrase echoing in her head. But she couldn't figure out why. Who said that to her. Why is everything so fuzzy?

“I don't know... I remember hearing glass shatter, and a flash of blue. But the next thing I remember was... seeing you.

Gabriel looks at her, he could tell from her eyes she was telling the truth.

“I will look into that later. In the meantime, you should rest. I will check on you in a few hours.”

He moves the empty tray from the bed.

“Wait.”

Gabriel stopped.

“Get Adrien here. I want to see him now.”

“Dear, he is in school. It will dismiss in a few hours. Besides you should rest.”

Emilie got up from the bed.

“Nonsense. Ive been resting long enough. I am sure Adrien can miss a few hours of school. I want to see my baby boy.”

Gabriel wanted to find some way to dismiss her request, but he knew he couldn't say no to her. She was far to headstrong and determined... and man did he miss her.

“Okay, I will have his driver go an pick him up.”

“You aren't going to pick him up yourself?”

“Emilie I have work to do. Besides that is why we have...”

“You can take some time off to bond with your son. Seriously, you need to stop putting up walls Gabe-y.”

Gabriel took a calming breath to compose himself.

“Very well. But do use this time to rest.”

She moves to kiss her husband.

“I promise.”

Gabriel’s expression turned into a soft smile.

“I will be back with our son shortly.”

Gabriel left the room to go pick up Adrien.

Emilie smiled as she moved to vase of roses. She picked on up and sniffed it.

The rose in her hand began wilting and shriveled up.

She looked in the mirror.

“Everything went perfectly.”

______________________________________________________________________

End of part one

(Should I continue? Let me know your thoughts)

[xsay10x]

I'll be my own Inquirer

Why so incapable of contemplating this constantly unstable mental state put up with it for a taste of what it feels to be understood for once but is it worth the risk I really need to think this through why I'm reluctant

to share my ideals and opinions tell people what my thoughts are open up with my consciences but cant quite make a coherent sentences so I just hide keep everything inside make sure nothing can come in from the outside because i don't care to confide in the ones who saw something good in me

Wow.. oh! really? what a pussy you see what I mean who talks about their feelings you just need to vibe bro it's not that complex just go with the flow let go stop holding on to the to the shortest rope with the least likelyhood of success

Success what is success dress up for attention have the latest model and nicest brand surrounding yourself with distractions procrastinating instead of contemplating how to be the best you that you want to be

But am I changing for me? or for what I was programmed to be just waiting for directions like the rest of humanity

Stop and take a hit just smile and laugh shut up and start relaxing your attitude is really taxing

How is it, that you can be relaxing while others are slaving away to pay their bills mountains that came from hills

Nah man here just take some more pills I'm not here for this shit

You ain't real enough for this shit just a cog in a machine a dog on a leash careful not to bite the one who feeds

Following orders and deeds obligated to represent reputations neglecting their just vessel a tool being used to confuse the masses they think their the consumers being programmed frequent frequencys colors and pretty flashing lights

Designed to have you mindlessly sitting on the couch smiling neglecting your brain till you go insane till you open of your pouch of pain meds now your addicted but not affected cause your drugs did their job of robbing you of your cognitive thinking now your a cog no need to thrive a bee in hive serve your queen that's not obscene

I'm not trying to instigate these situations I hate but I can't pretend that I dont spectate and sit alone think hold what wait try a lil harder to file my thoughts thought hard about it I feel myself departing no longer hanging I the branch I've hanging on for way to long

I cant let me lose myself cuz I'm all I got I don't care what i was taught I'm not on the clock

Still so unsure what the game plan is but I'm getting more uncomfortable with uncertainty

Let myself stay close to home dont get lost all on my own but still complete that dont mean I want to compete

It's not hard to see that I'm socially inept. I'm begrudgingly accepting the fact that I don't mix with society cuz a part of me has always wanted to blend in but in my own way

Cant even keep track of these days constant reruns don't need the attention I dont want to be in your silly little club or a taste of the sweet life I dont ever want to be a wife

I want stay true to me but when I'm obstructing my own sight its really hard to see who I actually want to be

I went to wander and roam free think for myself try to make it on own but now I'm lost in this labyrinth that is everything I fear everything i hold dear lost in mind and seem to find this part of be that seems to be missing

I'm no longer okay please stay away

I've created a tailored hell just for to sink further into insanity no I don't need help. I'll do it by myself just go away

Or you'll have hell to pay I'm I'm toxic but not just cause I'm sick of all this shit of adjusting and trusting for them to not care what I think

But they dont have to but I'm of hearing bitching from someone whose so insignificant that try to be something superior to me

Why cant we see that were equally capable of maintaining a stable mindset but I know it just goes right over my headset manically depressed or just obsessed trying to breaking away when something's

Telling me I need to stay to find that there will always be pain clean up another blood stain refrain from buying a fresh blade

At a masquerade ball try to find my way but feeling more like im looking in fun house mirrors facing the fears I have of myself

Won't stop complicating everything thing I'm saying can't stop arguing with my self is there really a war going on in my head can't stand the hours I set here laying in bed waiting patiently silently debating constantly switching the side I stand on till I fall find myself laying in bed awake again

Not know how I left myself drifting so long

Being shifty but letting things slip out of control and I don't think I'm holding on to anything but my problems can't keep my promises

I just want to find the common denominator to all this mental labor. But I trapped myself within these these conflicting thoughts

the way I'm feeling can't say just what I'm thinking cant help how far I'm falling

I wont reach out for help... I don't need your help. I dont want your help I just run away from everything right now

Why are all my thoughts consistently conflicting wont stop contradicting what I try to put my mind too

Always finding new ways to contribute to the progression of humanity

I won't stop obsessing I can't bring myself to comply even if I have to lie

Whenever I stand up tall try to make myself different from you all but the universe is so much bigger than us all we don't realize how far we're actually falling

It gets me wondering to where I just sit alone pondering the possibilities of so many diverse realities

The perspectives of everyone. are enough to confuse anyone

Making you feel so discombobulated used to think everyone else was assimilated

Yet it still feels like ive been searching for so long feel my patience slowly slipping away

As my path remain unclear forced myself to stay say I was okay not knowing what that means to me

I fell away blindly moving to go forward into life I thought wanted still struggling to grow up and deal what I've been through not knowing what seems right I dont know how much longer I can stay fight

Wanted so bad to hold onto the mistakes I've learned from but I fell down a rabbit hole everything pulling me back into the habits I want to let go of

I don't know how to move forward I want to go but part of me won't budge

I need a nudge feel free to judge me but who am i judging really why am i comparing all of these people? because I wont let myself see when in comes down to it the only one that i got through it all is me and I need to focus on myself cuz I'm all I have for the long haul but I'm still not ready at all

afraid to receive affection or look at my own reflection not willing to stop and check my agenda hoping to get enough high that it will distract me from my health and keep me from falling into this paradox I call myself

I just have to keep deceiving myself so I cant trick everyone and so I Don't forget to smile and constantly contradict and contort so that they cant see me decaying and semi consciously constraining what im actually thinking because its wrong to think about all the bullshit the majority's put up with an If you can't help but think about it

Just pretend like your okay because that's how you run in the human race

Still can't help ask why I alive? Who is this mask? I'll follow their lead finish the task neglect what need

To fuel the fire that seeds my Insanity

Because I am alright I'm doing fine

I'll say that I'm okay so I dont bare the shame of running away

[casino-lights]

The Worst First Date... Ever

A Deputy/Pratt oneshot I’ve been wanting to write for a while now. Warnings apply for strong language, some sexual content, and secondhand embarrassment. Two of the three are Staci’s fault. Which two? You be the judge.

Pratt was acting up again one day in late spring, when the mud on the roads was fender-deep and the sun gave everyone red arms and pinched faces. Hudson was about ready to strangle him as he popped his nicotine gum to the rhythm of the oldies on the radio. Medina could tune it out - it’s classic Pratt, she told herself, hates the quiet so he fills it in the most annoying way he can think of - but once he started banking paperclips off her back, she had to take a stand.

“Pratt!”

“What? It’s target practice.”

“Stop doing that.”

His lips curled up in a grin and he held his hands up innocently. But the glint of a silver paperclip pinched between his thumb and forefinger was not promising, and Medina only glared at him.

“Staci Pratt, I will tell your mother.”

His mouth fell open in an O of surprise, but the smirk quickly returned. As soon as she went back to her paperwork, he bounced the paperclip straight off the back of her head.

“¡Deja de hacer eso!”

He started laughing and dropped his last paperclip into the jar on his desk. “Aww, no eres divertido.”

“Cabrón.”

“Guys!” Hudson snapped, pinching the bridge of her nose. “If you’re gonna insult each other, do it in English.”

Medina quickly apologized, then jabbed her finger at Pratt. “You… you… horse-face.”

He nearly choked on his gum. “Horse-face? Horse-face? You can call me an asshole in Spanish but the best you got in English is horse-face?”

“I don’t like swearing in English,” she said with a pout. “It’s dirty.”

“Shit, Sasha,” he chuckled as he stood up and stretched his arms. “You are so fucking cute.”

“Sure, you say that now.”

“Oh, my god, guys, I am begging you,” Hudson looked at Medina desperately. “Please, please flirt somewhere else. I just ate.”

Pratt disappeared into the closet where they kept personal effects, and both Hudson and Medina gave a sigh of relief as they returned to their work. Sasha was patiently filling out release papers for one Charlemagne Victor Boshaw IV when the W turned into a wild scribble as a pair of hands suddenly clasped her shoulders and a muffled voice called “neigh!” into her ear.

Since poor Sasha’s fight or flight instincts always defaulted to fight, she whirled around and swung a closed fist toward Pratt, who recoiled in shock as her hand connected with the rubber snout of his horse mask.

He tugged it off, cackling, and smoothed his hair back as Sasha stood up to face him - not like she properly could with their foot-tall height difference.

Luckily for Pratt, she laughed too, and she yanked the mask away from him. “Why do we even have this?”

“Dunno,” he confessed. “Just saw it in the closet this morning.”

Hudson, her head in her hands, mumbled wearily, “Came from a 390 they found out by Rae-Rae’s. Some jackass was trying to scare Boomer again.”

Pratt’s face twisted into a disgusted expression. “He puked, didn’t he?”

“Yep.”

Medina dropped the mask and wiped her hands on Pratt’s shoulder. “Ew. Drunk puke.”

“Really brings people together.” Pratt took her hands in his and pulled her toward the door. “C’mon, I wanna show you something.”

Reluctantly, she followed him, though she had to quicken her pace to keep up with his gangly legs, and he led her round the back of the station.

“Pratt, what—”

“Just do what I do.” He clambered up atop a parked cruiser, then the electrical shed, before finally scaling the roof. “The view up here is awesome.”

“We have mountains, y’know,” said Sasha as she struggled up the shed. “Why don’t you—oof—just look… oh, wow.” Her eyes widened as she reached the roof and could finally take in the sun setting between the mountains in the distance. “It’s beautiful. I never even noticed.”

“Yeah, see? I told you.” Pratt looked insufferably smug. “It’s ‘cause of that big, shitty billboard down there. It blocks the view from the road.”

“How did you even find this?”

“Joey complained about me smoking by the door - which is where everyone takes their smoke breaks, but whatever - so I came out back, but then she complained about me smoking by her car, so I figured, fuck it, if I can’t smoke on the ground, I’ll smoke on the roof.” He glanced down at her with a gleam in his eye. “Twenty bucks she starts complaining about the smoke coming through the vents or something.”

Sasha folded her arms and narrowed her eyes crossly. “I thought you quit.”

“I’ve quit like, six times. Never sticks. Doesn’t matter. This is nice.” He rolled one of his shoulders and swallowed nervously. “Look, uh… sorry I’m a dick sometimes.”

“‘Sometimes’ is a good start,” she said. Still, she uncrossed her arms and smiled warmly at him. “But you’re forgiven. For now.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and chewed his lower lip before inhaling deeply. “I was wondering if, um… maybe… sometime… do you wanna go get some… err, I mean, maybe you’d like to do… something? With me?”

“Staci Pratt, are you asking me on a date?”

“I… guess?” At her unimpressed look, he cleared his throat and said, more confidently, “Yes, I am. I’d like to go on a date with you.”

She reached for his hand and he gave it gladly, despite his sweating palms and trembling fingers. “Staci, I would love to go on a date with you. What did you have in mind?”

“What did I—” Realization dawned on his face and his expression morphed into shock. “Fuck. I mean… I, uh, I didn’t actually… plan that far ahead. I kinda thought you’d say no.”

Sasha giggled and squeezed his hand. “How about a picnic?”

“Great! Yes. I love picnics. Definitely my first choice.”

“I know this great little spot out past Nick Rye’s place.”

He grinned - more relieved than teasing. “I’ll swing by and pick you up. You still live right outside Falls End, right?”

She nods.

“Good, okay. Good. Eight tomorrow night?”

“Six. I wanna catch the sunset.”

He wasn’t off his shift until seven-thirty. But the lady said six, and God help anyone who said Staci Pratt wouldn’t bend over backward for a lady. “Six it is.” He figured the last hour and half wouldn’t matter. Nothing happened in Hope County, anyway.

He was very, very wrong.

From the get-go, Sasha knew something was up. Sure, Staci combed his hair and - for once - didn’t smell of cigarettes, which was a glorious feat in itself, but he was still wearing his uniform, radio and all, while she sported a sundress with purple polka dots. Not exactly on the same page. Not to mention the fact that he showed up in his patrol car. Something was definitely wrong.

Awkwardly, he shuffled his feet as he stood outside her door. “So, um… I forgot to mention this, but I’m kinda… sorta… still working. Until eight.”

“Staci!”

“It’s okay!” He held up his hands placatingly, one bearing a bottle of sweet rosé. “It’s okay. I made sure I was released from office shit and I did all my paperwork early—”

“You gave it to Joey, didn’t you?”

“I… gave her a couple pages.”

“A couple?”

“…Twenty-nine.”

“Staci!” Sasha nearly slammed the door on him right then. But heaven help her, he was so, so cute.

“It’s not a big deal! All I have to do is keep the radio on, okay?” He reached for her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “Nothing ever fucking happens around here, anyway. I promise, Sasha, nothing is going to ruin this for us.”

“I just… I thought we weren’t going to bring work into this.”

“We’re not.” His voice was lower, softer, and his eyes were sincere. “I like you, Sasha. I like you a lot. I want this to go well.”

She drew herself toward him and laced their fingers together. “I like you too, Staci, I just don’t want to mess anything up for you. If you have to work, you should work.”

“Ah, Whitehorse loves me. I’m safe.”

She snorted loudly and he made a face in response. 

“Just get in the car, papi.”

He saluted her sloppily. “Yes, ma’am, Miss Medina, ma’am.”

They hadn’t even touched their sandwiches before their hands were wandering, sprawled out on a blanket decorated with rocket ships as the sun blinked below the horizon. God, he’d wanted to kiss her so badly since he first laid eyes on her, with her rich, silk skin and her soft hair and her perfect, perfect lips and here he was, fumbling his way through it, as she smiled into each kiss. Probably laughing at him on the inside, he figured. Dammit, Staci, keep it together…

She had one of her hands on his thigh, positioned oh so precariously, and the other on his chest and she was so, so into this. He kissed hard, and he kissed a lot, and everyone else she’d ever been with - a generous sample size of two women and one other man - was nervous and shy. She’d expected Staci to be the same way, but ooh, he was fierce, and it lit something up in her body she’d never, ever felt before. Sasha, honey, take it slow…

Her fingers unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt and brushed his collarbone, and he moaned. It reverberated within her mouth and she gasped, and they had a sweet-hot back and forth of sultry noises that led to him on his back with her lips on his neck. She left bruising kisses all across his skin, and her weight on his chest was sending heatwaves through him, and he doesn’t remember his work cargos ever being this tight—

His eyes close on their own as she sucks on the delicate skin between his neck and his clavicle. “Oh, fuck, fuck, yes, God, you’re so fucking good at this.”

She laughed softly, seductively, and then…

Someone else laughed, too. A couple someones, actually.

Sasha pulled away abruptly, brow furrowed, and Staci pushed himself up on his elbows as the radio on his shoulder hummed with the chuckles of everyone else on duty. He stared at Sasha in horror for a split second before he scrambled for the switches, and the feedback screeched through the air with his vicious curses as he flicked the radio off, then on again and off for good in his panic.

Sasha was absolutely speechless, but she forced words anyway. “I… Staci, I… I’m so—”

“Don’t,” he snapped, his face buried in his hands. “Just fucking don’t.”

“I’m sorry,” she finished. She knelt before him, hand on his knee, and reached for his face. 

He almost pulled away, but he dropped his hands and let her touch him gently. “They’re gonna be laughing at me for-fucking-ever,” he muttered miserably. “I’m never fucking living this down.”

“Staci, it’ll be alright.” Sasha had no idea how, but faith had to be enough, right? “They-they probably don’t even know you’re with me.”

He shook his head bitterly. “The fuck they don’t! I told everyone I know I was going out with you. Everyone.”

On one hand, she was certainly flattered. On the other… uh-oh. This time, she couldn’t even think of anything to say. She just tucked his hair behind his ear and rubbed his knee until he drew himself away from her.

His radio light flickered on and he rolled his eyes. “Fuck. I’m fucked. I can’t just not answer it.”

Sasha checked her watch. 7:48.

“Fuck.” Staci sighed and turned the radio back on. “Pratt here. Unfortunately.”

It was Joey Hudson. With any luck, she’d be kind—

“Hey, love machine, you got something coming.”

—Or not.

“Fuck off, Hudson—”

“No, Pratt, I’m serious. Some asshole stole a ton of engine parts from Nick Rye’s hangar and they’re driving right past you.”

“Oh, shit. I’m on it.” He clambered to his feet and nearly tripped on the blanket. “Shit. Shit!” He turned to Sasha, looking so apologetic she didn’t even know it was humanly possible, and he gestured hopelessly at the abandoned picnic. “Sasha, I’m so sorry, I don’t… should I—”

“No, Staci, you go on. I can deal with this. You go get the bad guy.”

“I—should I take you with me? You’re not walking all the way back—”

She interrupted him again. “Yes, I am. You need your car.”

“But you - you’re in heels. I’m so fucking sorry, Sasha, I’m—”

“Stop it, Stace, it’s okay. I’ll be okay. Now go! You’ll lose ‘em!”

He backtracked to his patrol car, looking desperately from the blanket to her and back again until she waved her hands frantically.

“Go!”

He peeled out, and Sasha could only imagine him taking down a thief with his bruised neck and half-open shirt and lipstick-stained cheeks. All she could do was take off her shoes and pinch them in one hand while she tucked the blanket under her arm and carried the picnic basket in the other.

Staci was right. He was the laughingstock of the entire Hope County Sheriff’s Department for a month. Maybe more. They stopped counting after the seventeenth time they were together in a room and someone moaned in a falsetto, started snickering, or made a filthy remark - usually in Sasha’s direction. It made Staci furious every time, but after the second fistfight, Whitehorse put him on notice and he started avoiding Sasha altogether.

The next time they worked together, he was flying a helicopter into the heart of Joseph Seed’s compound with a United States Marshal in the back. 

And still, the first thing Hudson said when they all piled in was: “Hey, love machine.”

[awritesfanfics]

Return of the Hounds Pt. 1

I’ve literally been so busy I started this right after I watch TFP and I haven’t been able to finish it until like now. So here it is, I just had to get it off my chest. Part 1 of 2!

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Word Count: 2,632

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“Boring!”

“You haven't even let me finish!” “It's twins. Solved it last night while you were at the pub.” “But it's never twins, you said it yourself it's never twins!” “Well this time it is.” He ripped the knives out of the wallpaper and returned to start over. “Well that's it then.” You said, defeated. “What?” He whipped around, unconsciously aiming a dagger at you. You threw your hands up in front of your face and grimaced. You wanted to believe he wouldn't throw it at you, but with Sherlock you could never be sure. He looked confused at your reaction until he followed your line of sight. “Sorry,” he said, lowering the weapon. “What do you mean that's it then? You're trying to tell me you can't find a case? In all of London there's nothing for me?” “I'm not your secretary,” you said narrowing your eyes. “But no, nothing left that you want. We've been here for three days, Sherlock. I've read through everything.” “Three days? No, no it can't- oh, that's why John brought the paper in.” “Paper comes on Tuesday though? We've been at it since Wednesday.” “He only brings it in if it's been out there for more than 56 hours. He doesn't even realize but OCD is a very efficient time keeper.” You shook off his deduction. Not important. “So you want me to look outside of London then?” “What? Yes, yes anywhere, look in the bloody- “ “States? Oh, wow, there's plenty to keep you busy here.” The US crime news page seemed to go on forever. Hate crimes seemed to saturate the list, but those were obvious. Sherlock needed a challenge if you wanted to keep him out of your hair for a while.

“Here's one. Has to deal with the president.” He threw a knife at the wall and groaned. “No no, he's an idiot. Next!” Crack. A second knife splintered the wall. “Doctors puzzled at rare amnesia cases?” You searched the article. “Here it is again. 4 dead in connection with unknown amnesia virus.” “Patients manic in their last moments, extensive internal bleeding.” “Amnesia virus contained to one-“  you laughed and shook your head. “What?” He asked, skimming the article from over your shoulder. “Did the press ever get hold of what happened at Baskerville?” You turned to look at him. “No, Mycroft kept it quiet, no one knew.” “So no one found out that it was finished? That anyone found out what was happening?” He cocked his head and furrowed his brow. “Amnesia virus contained to one Indiana hospital. Liberty hospital on lockdown after outbreak of unknown disease take 5 lives, infects 9 more.” Sherlock smiled. “Perfect!” He stabbed the third knife into the arm of your chair, slicing the woven sleeve of your sweater. “We need to get you a damn case, I don't have many sweaters left and I'm not risking losing an arm.” “What exactly has he been doing?” John leaned in and asked quietly, to not disturb the working genius. “I like to think he's been packing, but it doesn't take 13,000 steps in a 50 foot flat to pack for a trip to America. You ready then?” He nodded, glancing over at the luggage by the door.

“I'll grab mine.” “Yea, cab should be ready soon.” He glanced down at his watch. “We're going to be late, Sherlock, what the hell are you doing in there?” He walked out with a small day bag and his face buried in his cell phone, nearly walking right into John. “What have you been doing in there?” Mrs. Hudson said frowning. “Sounded like you were running a marathon. Gonna wear a hole in my rug if you don't get a change of scenery.” A smile snuck onto her lips as Sherlock gave her a tight squeeze goodbye. She gave you a hug as you collected your luggage. “Keep him safe, will you dear?” “I'll try my best,” You giggled as you walked out of the flat. You loaded your luggage into the cab and squeezed in beside Sherlock. “Heathrow, please.” Once you boarded your flight, you settled in. You decided confidently that'd you'd try to take a nap, after sitting through not one, but three of the documentaries provided by the airline. There were seven hours left on the flight; maybe there'd be something better on later. You put in your headphones and, thankfully, started dozing off right away. Your head bobbed gently against the back of your chair, your breathing slowed, and your music drowned out the roaring of the engines. Light turbulence nudged you awake. You brought your watch close to your tired eyes to read the time. 3 hours left. “I slept for 4 hours? On a plane? Well I was surprisingly comfortable…” Your cheeks turned red. You must've rested your head on Sherlock’s shoulder without knowing. You wanted to move softly, so he didn't notice anything, but when you tried, you felt pressure holding you down. His breathing was soft. He must've fallen asleep on you, too. The cabin was dark, the music played softly in your ears. You were the most comfortable you've been in years, and you fell back to sleep. Sherlock stirred gently as the plane began its descent. You followed suit, clearing your throat and turning your head to the open window to your right. Your eyes squinted as you greeted the bright blue sky and the growing buildings below. “So how exactly are we going to get into this hospital to get the information we need?” John asked, munching on an order of French fries. “I mean, it's on lockdown, we can’t exactly just walk in.” “Well, the story did say the only people who seemed to get infected were those prone to seizures, didn't it? They thought it had something to do with the medicine.” Sherlock nodded, cocking his head. “Don't panic.” You whispered to the two. Suddenly, you froze. Your eyes seemed to gloss over as you locked your muscles and threw yourself from your chair. You seized on the floor, voluntary spasms shaking your entire body. Sherlock and John followed along beautifully. “Oh my god, oh my God!” John yelled as Sherlock called an ambulance. “Is anyone here a doctor, my God what the hell is happening to her?!” He exclaimed, drawing the attention of at least two dozen onlookers. A woman rushed to your side. “I'm a doctor. Everyone stand back. She needs space and air. She's having a seizure. No one touch her. Do you know her?” “Yes, yes she's my best friend. She's never done this before!” The woman held him back. “She’s fine, she'll be fine, you friend is calling an ambulance. We just have to wait until then.” The EMTs arrived quicker than anticipated. By then, you were fine, but John insisted on them taking you in anyway, since the fit was “totally out of the blue, unpredicted, and terrifying if it were to happen again.” They agreed, and loaded you into the ambulance. “Where are we going? Which hospital?” You asked “weakly”. “Miami Valley, mam.” “Why not Liberty Regional?” “Well, that’s about 45 minutes away.” “Huh. Good to know.” You sat up in the gurney and gave a swift kick, sending the EMT flying back. “Sherlock, the driver!” You ordered. “Get some scrubs on, Doctor Watson. We have a long ride ahead of us.” Sherlock sent the driver tumbling out of the cabin and took his place. You pulled up a map to Liberty Regional for him and sped off.

“Well that didn't go exactly as I planned. When was the last time you didn't pull the doctor card?” He shrugged. “All worked out though.”

Sherlock whipped through the ambulance dock, opening the back doors to help lower you out. “You can't be here, the whole place is on lockdown.” A nurse tried to shoo you away. “Your higher up seemed to tell us different.” John said sternly. “I called it in already. Said to take a look at her.” The woman was convinced. “She's had a seizure. She’s alright, just had a bit of a fright. First one, you know how that goes.” “If she's scared about that, she'll be petrified once she gets the bill.” The nurse laughed as she brought you in, taking you through the almost completely deserted halls. “Where is everyone?” You asked. Well, not to worry you, but there's been an outbreak of something, so we haven't been accepting new patients. In the process of evacuating them actually. It's contained to a few rooms, though. You'll be fine.” She wheeled you into a dim room and helped you onto the bed. “A doctor will be right in to talk to you. You shouldn't be here for too long.” As promised, a doctor and nurse, both masked walked in with a drip feed and clipboard, shutting the door behind him. The bag was labeled ‘SALINE 1.2 mg dos’. “Hello.” He said quietly from behind the mask. “I apologize, for this. I’d much rather be face to face-“ he said, moving uncomfortably close you “-but as you must’ve heard, there’s been a sort of outbreak here. We’re working very hard to keep everyone safe and prevent his from spreading.” Your blood ran cold. It was Culverton Smith. You hid your accent as best as you could to prevent any possibility of him catching on to your plan.

“Not doing too well of a job though are you? I heard it spread to what, 9 people now?”

He became noticeably agitated. He didn’t expect your response. That just meant he had to work quicker. He laughed it off. “That’s not exactly my area.”

“Well who’s is it? No one knows what caused it, so who’s in charge of it? Neurology? Virology? The janitors?” You cursed yourself in your mind. You’re slipping. You just couldn’t help it. You laughed to help lighten the tension, and he followed suit.

“So what I hear is, you've had a seizure?” He was anxious to change the subject. You nodded. “It was my first one, ever. No one in my family has them either.”

He motioned for a nurse to hook you up to the IV. You started to panic.

“Is this really necessary? I thought I’d just be coming in for a consultation, a checkup.”

“Oh no, sorry. You’ll need to stay overnight, maybe for about a week. We need to conduct some follow-up tests, you know, make sure you’re not infected.”

Your heart raced.

“You read the news, didn’t you? “Strange amnesia virus infects seizure patients.” This hospital isn’t accepting new patients. So how exactly did you get in here? Well by faking a seizure of course! You wanted to find out the cause, so you could help find a cure, didn’t you? Well, relax. I’ll tell you my little secret.” He dropped the mask and the fake accent. “Oh, I am sorry though, this saline that’s flooding your system right now, isn’t saline. It’s a memory inhibitor. Blocks new ones, kind of dissolves old ones too I’m afraid. Take notes, you won’t be able to remember any of this in the morning, if you even live that long.” He laughed again, standing up. “Well, this is lovely, but I’ve got another patient to tend to. And try not to scratch at the IV, leaves a nasty scar.” He returned the mask to his face, and he and the nurse disappeared out the door.

You looked around the room, your memory fading. Anxiety rose up within you, but you couldn’t remember why. You glanced down at your arm, the small needle stuck in your vein.

The IV. The IV. The IV. Those words reverberated in your mind, but you just couldn’t remember why.

Suddenly, Sherlock and John busted through the door, shutting it quietly and locking it behind them.

They were frantic, flying over to your side and bombarding you with questions about why you had an IV in, what the doctor said, and what was going on.

“Wait,” you quieted them, bringing your hands to your temples.

Sherlock and John shared a panicked glance before you decided.

“He said it was something to do with... Agh! I can't remember, it was something with seizure patients, but we knew that already!  uh…”

“I can't remember!” You cried. Your eyes frantically searched the familiar faces for a shred of a memory, something to remind you what was Culverton’s plan. Sherlock grabbed you by the shoulders and met your eyes, following them around the room.

“Can you remember anything?” He pressed, his face twisting in fear of the unthinkable.

You shook your head, then suddenly stopped. your eyes seemed to gloss over for a second, fixated on a distant point in the hallway. You came to, and pulled away from his grip, wiping your eyes and studying the men in front of you. “What are you talking about? Remember anything about what?” You replied, dryly.

The color drained from Sherlock’s face. He swallowed hard. His worst fear had come true. First it was Mary. Now you. He promised he'd keep you safe on any case the two of you went on. And now you were hours before dying, and there was nothing he could do about it without giving in to the one man Sherlock feared.

John stepped in, pushing Sherlock aside. “Yes, Ms. (Y/N), is it? Doctor Watson.” He shook your hand. “You have been sent here because of an accident you had.” He picked up a blank clipboard that rested at the bottom of your bed. “You fell off a ladder and hit your head? That could be the reason why you don't remember, blunt force trauma could lead to unconsciousness, memory loss. It's all very common and nothing to be worried about.” A look of relief crossed your face. “Let's just get a quick look at that. Would you mind leaning forward for me?” You obeyed, sitting up and leaning over. He brushed the hair off your shoulder and stabbed a syringe into your arm.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?! Who are you?! I'm going to call… security, and you'll… you'll be…. arrested… and lose…” Your shoulders fell limp and your head bobbed forward as you lost consciousness. Sherlock rushed to you, but John held him back.

“She'll be fine. Just a tranquilizer. It'll slow her heart rate, keep her in one spot for a while. But we have to work quickly.”

Sherlock nodded, backing away. A call rang in on the landline on the bedside table. With a deep breath, John answered.

“Hello?” He said, clearing his throat. He handed it over. An unsteady hand took it, greeted by a wicked laugh on the other end.

“What the hell is this?” Sherlock yelled through gritted teeth.

“Just a little game of mine. I heard you like games, Mr. Holmes.” His mind was clouded, but still useful. The accent was American, but fake. Crooked teeth interrupted the flow of speech. An echo, a beeping, a heart rate monitor.

Two heart rate monitors.

Three.

Seven.

The ICU.

A second voice piped up inaudibly in the background

“Oh, I'm afraid I have to go, Mr. Holmes. Someone needs my care.”

The distinct loading of a gun. A terrified plea. A single shot. A dull thump. John turned in the direction of the noise down the hall.

“Come get me, Mr. Holmes, before I win the game.” The laugh resumed before cancelling the call. Sherlock tore the phone from the table in audible frustration, shattering it against the far wall.

He turned and saw John, focused like a bloodhound on a scent, waiting for a command. “This way.” He urged.

The pair raced towards the sound, slamming the door behind them.

Part 2

[dylan-hague]

Chapter 27

Titans Tower, Jump City. March 3rd, 2018. 5:23 PM.

Kori sat on her bed, looking down at the tablet in her hands. She knew better than to go digging up old business, but still she sat and stared down at the photo on the screen. There in the photograph, looking back at her, was a much younger Tamaranean girl, her emerald eyes brimming with excitement. In her arms holding the camera was a black-haired boy in a green mask, with gloves and boots of the same color, and a red tunic, his yellow cape billowing behind them as they flew over the city below. Starfire and Robin had been inseparable when she arrived on Earth. She shouldn’t have been so naïve… she swiped left across the screen, and the photo moved aside for another one, which Dick had posted on his Facebook this morning… looking into the camera was a beautiful auburn-haired woman, glasses over her blue eyes, lying on her bed with one hand holding a book, the other resting on her round abdomen. “This is what home looks like,” the caption read.

Barbara Gordon. The Batgirl next door.

Don’t misunderstand, Kori loved Barbara dearly. She was caring, and she understood how hard it was for Kori after Dick left. But the romantic affections of a Tamaranean were not the same as those of a human. Humans had the capacity to find love in another if something caused an end to their connection with someone. But for a Tamaranean, that love was undying… once formed, it was nigh impossible to sever. She would always love Barbara… but she should always love Dick.

They talked about it once. Only once. Dick knew that Kori would always feel something for him, and it killed him to think about it. He felt responsible for what she was feeling, but what could he do? He wasn’t going to lead her on, and he knew that his heart belonged to Barbara. It hurt more than anything she’d ever felt before, but she smiled. She told him it was okay. That it wasn’t his fault. Barbara made him happy, and he made Barbara happy. They belonged together. Dick pulled her close, and Kori could still remember how cold his tears felt on her shoulder. He told her she was the best friend he ever had, that there would always be a place in his heart for her. There were days that she wondered if those words were true. But deep down, Kori knew that, while Dick Grayson was many things, he was not a liar. He and Barbara never once did anything to make her feel unwelcome. X'hal, the three of them spent last Christmas together, and it had been one of her fondest memories of the past year. They were so good… so loving. They would be wonderful parents to Tommy.

Tommy... Tommy was all set to arrive in a month. Dick kept on saying he hoped the boy had his mother’s red hair, that he’d come out looking just like her. But if anyone asked Barbara, she would just smile and say she wanted him to look like his father. Sometimes she would joke and say that she could feel the baby leaping around inside her, like a little acrobat. If he jumped like his daddy, odds are he’d look like him too. Personally, Kori agreed with Barbara.

While she was in Blüdhaven that Christmas, Barbara had come to her alone one night. She said that she and Dick understood how painful everything must have been. Dick didn’t want to bring it up, for fear of digging up any hurt Kori had buried, but he and Barbara wanted to ask her to be Tommy’s godmother. Kori couldn’t say yes fast enough; she would love Tommy with all her heart, she promised. And in a way, thinking about holding the little boy in her arms it made everything a little bit easier. Her own little bumgorf… Kori smiled. Dick always got this confused look on his face when she said anything in her native tongue.

As she let her mind drift back through memories of the early days of the Titans, she was quickly brought back to to the world around her by the sound of the front door alert going off. She slowly pulled herself off of her bed, and checked the console mounted in her wall to see who was trying to get inside.

Starfire let out a gasp as Raven appeared on the screen, hunched over and shaking profusely, covered in blood that, judging by her tattered uniform, was like lay her own, and a long trail of the red stuff on the ground behind her.

The older Titan flew as fast as she could through the Tower, and soon found herself joined by her students at the front door. She quickly entered the authorization code, and the doors slid open. Raven fell back through the doorway, her chest quickly rising and falling as she struggled to breathe.

“Raven!” Kori cried as she gathered the girl into her arms. “What happened to you? Where is Damian??”

“He…” the cloaked girl struggled to speak as her eyes drifted closed. “… someone took him…”

Undisclosed location. March 7th, 2018. 3:14 AM.

Damian woke screaming, lurching forward in a panic. He quickly found that unwise, however, as he immediately felt cold iron bands digging into his wrists. His eyes darted all around him, taking in as much information as they could in the dimly lot space he found himself in: cast iron bars stood in place of one wall, and he was chained to the opposite wall, which was made of brick and mortar, and covered in a thick coat of dust. He thought back to the last thing he could remember: he knew he’d been shot. He was just outside of Jump City, and he turned to Raven to ask…

Oh God… Raven.

A light peered out from down the corridor just as the thought occurred to him, and a man appeared on the other side of the bars. His face was hidden beneath a mask, but the scope mounted on his eye was a dead giveaway of his identity: Floyd Lawton.

“Oh, good. You finally woke up,” Deadshot mumbled. “You’ve been out for four days.”

Damian slumped over, hung upright by the chains on his wrists, dead silent.

“Look, kid, this ain’t anything personal…” the assassin went on. “And I hope you know I don’t kill kids. That’s a personal rule. I wouldn’t have shot you if I didn’t know you’d live. But for the price my client put on you? Well… sorry it had to hurt so bad. Bullet was filled with a tranquilizer, so you prob'ly passed out before the pain hit you.”

Damian raised his head, his eyes wide with fear.

“… I need the money for my baby girl. I hope you understand that.” Lawton’s voice showed a touch of sympathy as he spoke. “I know they’re gonna put you through it down here. But I have to take care of my daughter.” The hitman turned away from the bars and looked down at floor. “… my client should be here in a few weeks. I’m sorry it had to go down like this… I’ll be back in a few hours to feed ya. Sit tight, kid.” He started back down the hall, presumably towards the exit…

“… Raven.”

Lawton stopped, turning back to the boy chained up in the cell. “Say again?”

Damian looked into the glowing red scope, where he knew Deadshot could see him. “What… what did you do to my Raven…?”

Lawton grimaced underneath his mask. “Oh… the girl…” he let out a hefty sigh. “My client sent a squad with me to make sure the job got done. Once I put one in your chest, she pulled it right back out, and looks like she closed up the hole too. I…” He shook his head. “They were already on her by the time I came to grab you. Nobody could have lived through that kinda beatin’. I wasn’t gonna get into it, because they prob'ly woulda killed me too. I’m…” Lawton turned and walked back towards the exit. “I’m sorry.”

Damian’s whole body went completely numb. Raven was his silver lining. She was the woman he would hang up his cape for. She was the rain that washed the sins from his soul.

She was his life. She was his heart. She was his everything.

And now, she was dead.

Titans Tower, Jump City. March 11th, 2018. 1:34 AM.

“Jon…”

Raven squinted her eyes as the light flooded into her eyes. Judging by the IV needle she could feel in her arm, the constant beeping of her heart monitor, and the sight of a fresh change of clothes folded up on the mattress beside her, she put two and together to realize that she was back in the Tower Infirmary. Superboy sat unconscious in a chair by her bed, his favorite jacket pulled over his body like a blanket. As soon as she said his name, his eyes opened, and he jumped up to her bedside.

“Raven!” He whispered. “Thank goodness you’re awake! It’s been almost eight days, we were starting to worry that you might not get up…”

“Jon, listen to me.” Raven placed a hand on his to get his attention. “I need you to tell Kori I’m going back to Gotham.

Jon looked her worriedly. "R… Raven, I can’t let you do that. Not by yourself, and especially not right now. You were barely alive when you got back to the Tower, we can’t just–”

“Jon, I’m fine.” Raven sat up, using her magic to restore her strength as she pulled the IV from her arm. “But someone’s kidnapped Damian. I have to find him.”

“No! You don’t have to just run off on your own!” Jon gently placed a hand on Raven’s shoulder. “We’re a team, remember? Let us help you, and we can figure out where–”

“NO.” Raven grabbed Jon by both shoulders as she hopped down from the bed. “No… Jonathan, I have to do this alone… he’s my Damian. I have to take care of him.”

Jon looked into Raven’s eyes for a moment, then let out a sigh in defeat. “… Be careful. Bring him home safe.”

Raven wrapped her arms around Jon’s neck and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Jon. I promise, we’ll be back as soon as we can.”

Jon put his arms around her, squeezing her gently. “Just… don’t get hurt. You two are the best friends I’ve got.”

Raven stepped back, and changed into her fresh outfit as soon as Jon left the room. Once she was ready, she summoned up a portal and stepped into the Batcave, where Bruce and Carrie were waiting, ready to attack. As soon as they realized who she was, the both of them relaxed.

“Good to see you’re awake,” Batman said grimly, pulling the cowl off of his face. “I’ve already been scanning all of California for a signal from Damian’s tracker, but I haven’t found anything yet.”

Raven looked up at Bruce, recognizing Damian’s icy blue eyes staring back at her. “I don’t think he’s in California anymore. Search everywhere. Not just the country–everywhere.”