#just a few minutes ago i was wondering how michael and lindsay were taking the news

[monarchisms]

[madamebaggio]

Notes! IMPORTANT INFORMATION:

I don’t know how many of the non-latins here will get this reference, but I’m sure Brazilians -such as myself -and if there’s any Mexican around will. I can’t say about other Latin countries, or any of our northern neighbors and everybody that’s beyond that…

Have you guys ever heard about the Mexican band RBD? That’s a good way to start this conversation.

Back in 2004 (if I’m not mistaken) there was this Mexican telenovela called “Rebelde”. It was a remake of an Argetinian telenovela (“Rebelde Way”), and it told the story of a bunch of rich kids in a boarding school. Well, not all the kids were rich, but you get the idea.

From the telenovela came the band (RBD), which had six members, who also played characters in the telenovela.

I was 14 at the time and I was absolutely mad over it. It was great, cheesy and corny in the best possible way. I have many fond memories of the telenovela and great regret that I never got the chance to see RBD playing live.

Anyway, the band broke up around 2009, but many fans still love them (maybe it’s just us Brazilians, we have a hard time letting go of stuff…)

Recently their albums finally were made available on Spotify and it got me thinking and…Well, this is the result.

I’m not saying that this is what happened to the actors after the band/telenovela was over. It was just another crazy idea that popped into my mind and wouldn’t let go until I wrote it down.

So… Yeah.

***

Chapter 1

Arthur was passing by Catia’s room when he heard it.

“You’re such a hooligan.”

He knew the voice, he knew where that sentence came from. Before he even noticed what he was doing, he’d pushed Catia’s door open and caught her watching TV.

He saw himself on the screen, much younger -God, so much younger -talking to the pretty redhead.

“And you’re a brat. So what?”

“I didn’t know you liked this show.” He said, startling Catia.

“Arthur!” She paused the scene, and turned to him. “I’m sorry. Did you…”

“I didn’t know they had that on Netflix.” He spoke before she could finish her sentence.

“Oh.” She looked at the TV like it was guilty of something. “They put it on it last week.”

Arthur hummed his understanding.

He didn’t really mind seeing himself as Michael Rivers, the poor student at High Tower Academy. It’d actually been his first role in TV, many years ago. The show (which was cringely called ‘Rebel Way’) was about an exclusive boarding school, and he was the underdog who fell in love with a rich girl.

Oh yes… They also sang. They made it cool before High School Musical came along. The show wasn’t actually a musical, but his character and a few friends were part of a band in it and in ‘real life’.

The show lasted three seasons -their time at the Academy -and the band still lasted two years after that.

“I can turn it off if you want.” Catia offered quietly.

Arthur shook his head. “No. It’s okay, Catia. You can watch it; I just didn’t know you liked the show.”

“It’s fun in a silly way.” She confessed with a giggle.

Arthur chuckled. “I know. I’m not embarrassed by it or anything.”

He left Catia to her show, and tried not to think about his time spent on it.

His mobile rang; it was Bedivere, his agent.

“Olenna Tyrell called me.” Bedivere told him without preamble. “She wants to talk to you.”

Fuck.

***

Sansa sat there as the hairdresser fixed her hair for the shooting. George was an artist, and he was making amazing curls on her hair.

Brienne was sitting on the couch nearby, checking her phone as they prepared and Sansa was talking about a new restaurant with George.

His new assistant kept throwing nervous glances towards Sansa, and the woman wondered when she’d get the courage to ask what was on her mind.

“Oh Seven, Lindsay. Just ask her already.” George told the girl, rolling his eyes when her fidgeting got on his nerves.

“I’m sorry!” Lindsay blushed terribly. “I didn’t want to bother you, Miss Stark.”

Sansa gave the girl a gentle smile. “It’s fine, Lindsay. What did you want to ask me?”

Lindsay bit her lower lip, clearly worried about saying what she had on her mind. However, she seemed to find her courage.

“I… I’m a big fan of Rebel Way.” She finally said. “I know it’s been a long time and all… But your character, Mia, was my first fashion icon.”

Sansa chuckled. “I’m glad to hear that. I loved her clothes.”

Lindsay seemed excited by it. “I made a uniform by myself when I was eleven.”

“Which uniform?” Sansa asked. “I liked the one in the first season better.”

“Me too!”

“Sansa.” Brienne cut in gently. “It’s a call for you. You might want to take it.”

Sansa frowned, wary of Brienne’s tone, but took the phone her agent was offering her.

“Sansa speaking.”

“Hey, Stark.” Margaery’s sugary sweet voice called from the other side. “We need to talk.”

***

Margaery knew Sansa wouldn’t be happy with the idea, but she’d promised her grandmother she’d do this for her.

Olenna was the only person that could get Margaery to do absolutely anything. She’d hide a body for her grandmother.

It took some convincing, but Sansa eventually accepted coming to the meeting. A part of Marge had wanted to hide some things from Sansa -like who was going to be there -but she knew it was unfair. They’d been friends for a really long time, and Marge wouldn’t risk it just to make her task easier.

She was in a peculiar position: on one hand, she was really happy with her life now, on the other, she genuinely thought that her grandmother’s idea was a good one.

When Marge entered the cast of Rebel Way, she was supposed to be the star of the show. Her grandmother was producing the whole thing, so it was a given.

She hadn’t liked Sansa at first, because it was clear that she’d get a lot of attention too. Their characters -Mia and Rosalie -were rivals for a big part of the show -they only became friends at the end of the second season. 

Marge and Sansa managed to become friends much earlier. Probably because Marge started dating Sansa’s brother, and Robb wanted them to get along.

It was very difficult to say ‘no’ to Robb Stark.

Which reminded Marge…

He’d be there as well.

Oh hell…

***

With the years, people stopped recognizing Robb as Daniel Cross from Rebel Way. He’d been way younger then, and now he had a beard so most people didn’t recognize him.

Some of the old fans still could, and he never changed his name; but generally he lived a pretty normal life.

“Mr. Cross.”

Some people were just fuckers. “Can I help you, Jon?” He glared at his long-time friend.

“Sansa’s on the phone.” Jon informed him, offering his own mobile. “She said she needs to talk to you and your phone is turned off.”

Robb frowned. Sansa was supposed to be in Madrid for a photoshoot. Why would she be calling him in the middle of the day?

Robb’s phone was dead, and he’d forgotten to recharge it, but if Sansa had called Jon looking for him, it should be serious.

Right?

“Hey, princess.” Robb said softly as he picked the phone. Jon waved at him, before leaving the room so they could talk.

“Hello, Robb.” Her voice was warm. “Do you have a minute?”

“For you? Always. Is something wrong?”

There was a pause. “Not exactly.”

“This doesn’t sound promising. What happened?”

“Margaery called me.” She sighed. “Olenna wants to meet with us.”

“What does Her Majesty want with us?”

Sansa took another long pause. “It’s about the show. Margaery just wouldn’t say what exactly.”

Oh shit. Robb did the math quickly in his head. He was almost certain that the show was about to reach its 15th anniversary. If he was correct, this couldn’t be just a coincidence.

“I really hope this isn’t a revival.” Robb joked softly. Lord, no!

“I don’t think it’s about the show, to be honest. I think it’s about the band.”

Robb cursed under his breath. “If it’s about the band…”

“They’re all going to be there.” Sansa finished for him.

“Shit. I’m going to call Theon.”

“That’s why I called you.” She confessed.

Robb sighed. “Thank you for the heads up.”

“Just be ready when you get the royal call.”

Robb snorted.

***

“Thank you for coming, Theon.”

Theon shook the hand of the man. “It’s always my pleasure, Tom.”

“You bring a lot of comfort to those kids. You make them realise it’s possible.”

Theon gave Tom a vague smile. “I’m glad to be of help.”

He waved and started leaving the room. Theon had mixed feelings when he heard things like this. On one hand, he was very proud of himself; it hadn’t been easy to get sober and remain sober. On the other hand… He didn’t feel like a good example, like he was someone any of those people should aspire to be like.

Yes, he’d been sober for almost seven years now, but it had been one hell of a messy journey.

When he reached the parking lot, he was shocked to see Robb there, leaning casually against his car.

“What’s up, Stark?” He called.

Robb looked at him and grinned. “Hey, Greyjoy.” They hugged it out. “Listen… Have you checked your phone?”

Theon was immediately wary. “No. I turn it off during meetings.”

“Right…” Robb cleared his throat. “So you’ll probably have some missed calls.”

“Robb, you didn’t come here to play the answering machine to me. What the fuck is going on?”

“Olenna is calling all of us.” Robb admitted. “Called Sansa, then me… And probably you.”

“Why?”

“Sansa thinks she wants to get the band back.”

“Why?” Theon repeated, this time disconcerted.

“I have no clue, but we’re getting close to the show’s anniversary.”

“Oh shit.” Theon grumbled. “I knew there was something weird going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“You should start checking Twitter.” Theon told him dryly. “Last week they put the show on Netflix. ‘Rebel Way’ is trending.”

Robb groaned. “Now what?”

“I’ll be honest… I want to know what the Queen wants.” Theon confessed. “Let’s see if I have a message waiting for me.”

***

“Have you heard? Sansa Stark is going to be exclusively with Versace this year.”

Maggie ignored the gossiping assistants and tried not to sigh.

She couldn’t escape Sansa’s name, since they were basically in the same industry, but it was never easy to hear it thrown around so casually.

Fashion Week was almost upon them, and people had often questioned the lack of interaction between the two former band mates.

Maggie was used to people asking her why Sansa -one of the highest paid models in the world -never worked with Maggie -the rising star of the fashion world.

Maggie wished she had a simple answer to that. She normally said that their schedules never worked out, and she knew Sansa had answered the same a few times.

The truth was Maggie resented Sansa a bit. She didn’t hate the model or whatever some people thought, she just…

Those years working together hadn’t been easy on Maggie. That was it. She wasn’t ready to just get back to it.

Her phone rang and when she picked it up, she saw a strange number calling. She ignored the call and was ready to put it away when it rang again, and Arthur’s name flashed on the screen.

“Hello, Arthur.” She said as she answered it.

“Oh you answered, great.” Arthur let out a relieved sigh. “Listen, Olenna Tyrell is going to call you. I’m calling first to warn you: she wants a meeting.”

“Oh. Slow down.” She asked, her head spinning. “What meeting?”

“A meeting with all of us; the whole band.”

Maggie had to sit down. “You can’t be serious.”

“I talked to her myself a few hours ago.” He told her. “The old witch wouldn’t tell me exactly what’s on her mind, but if she wants to see us all…”

“Are you sure she wants to meet with all of us at the same time?” Maggie pressed, desperate for a negative answer.

“She said that. ‘Get the kids back together’.” Arthur copied -poorly- Olenna’s voice. “Bedivere thinks it’s about the songs, but I think it isn’t that simple.”

“It never is.” Maggie grumbled, massaging her temples.

“Listen, if you don’t want to go, I’ll stand by you.” Arthur said, and she knew he meant it. “We don’t owe her anything.”

“Well, technically…”

“No ‘technically’, Maggie. We don’t need to do this.”

Maggie sighed. No, they didn’t, but she needed to. Some things had to be discussed, some problems had to be solved, and this was the only way she’d get some closure.

She needed to face the music -and the band.

[spookyboogie3]

MY FAVORITE AH MOMENTS W/O R*an H*yw**d

Also keep in mind some of these moments i picked Bitch Face r*an may have been present for but this aint about his stupid ass. 

The straw bit on Off Topic

Fiona and Trevor’s “Look at us” “Look at us” “Look at us” in TTT

Drunk Jeremy inhaling helium, followed by Jack and Trevor on Off Topic

“Krusty KrAYAYAB!!!” TTT

Jeremy trying to slam his face through a table, followed by Michael doing the same thing

“my god…… the munchdew” “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” Minecraft: Skyfactory

Actually all of Simple Farmer Geoff from Skyfactory

Whatever those sounds were that Jack was making in the beginning of GTA video

Alfredo screaming as he continues to fall down a steep tube in a GTA race

DESTROYING THEIR OFFICE DEAR LORD

“How did he drown though?” “UNDERWATER, MATT!”

Anytime Fiona starts to RAGE in TTT (bonus if others join in)

The time Gav was the phantom in TTT and he kept dying and being brought back and Jack spitting water and then trying to catch it

Alfredo’s Magoo moments in Minecraft

Geoff laughing in the background of a video hes not in

Lindsay fucking around with Chef Mike on Harecore Minigolf

Lindsay fucking around in general

Gavin and Fiona playing Animal Crossing and laughing at the stupidest shit

The Fish Tempura incident on Wheel of Fortune

Lindsay’s reasoning for why her and Michael should have 4 kids

Geoff’s fucking ad reads (my favorite is 23&Me)

The whole thing during Push the Button where everyone especially Michael gets mad at Fiona because she said the best candy to get while trick or treating was lollipops

Matt’s fucking desk in the corner of the room

Anytime Millie is in a video

Everyone falling off the pink ladder during TTT and dying repeatedly because of it

Alfredo “the two-time champ” Diaz dying very early in YDYD 3

Gavin and Michael fucking up almost every game they play on Play Pals

RAY OR NO and then RAY OR NAY on Off Topic

Reddit Roasts Geoff

Gavin asking if someone could kill 20 cows with their bare hands and the proceeding so say he could rip out a cow’s veins by reaching into its neck

Ify’s narration during Let’s Roll Ave Caesar

The internet losing its shit when Jeremy shaved his head years ago

“We need a knife” Gavin comes back with a hammer

Griffin chain sawing the Off Topic table up

“How do I put the boat in the water??” “Right click you animal”

As of 2020, 8 years of playing Minecraft, certain people still do not know how to play the basics of this fucking game.

Honestly it took over 200 episodes for some of them to figure out how the compass worked. You know after they decided that the sun was setting in the wrong direction. (this was in 2016??)

Flynt coal still is a joke they make

So is Day 2

Whatever happened in that GTA lets play where someone called a mugger or a hit on someone and the game glitched and 50 guys showed up and lined up on the street below from where they were playing

Anytime Gavin gets mugged, it’s an old running gag but it’s a classic

The time a mugger fucking started driving the fire truck away after mugging Gavin with Michael and Jeremy still in the truck thinking the other is driving and it takes them like 2 minutes to realize what happened while Gavin’s yelling “come back”

They got a water jug and immediately started water boarding each other

“It pinged and went dingle”

“Hey Trey-Boi” “Hey Gay-Boi” Immediately realizes what he has said

Jeremy’s website puns

(OLD) Ray jerking off in the corner during a let’s play

(OLD) the world in Minecraft never loading and everyone screaming about as Geoff says its fine for him

Jeremy’s “I AM MONSTER TRUCK”

Jack taking AH to Disney…��in Minecraft

On Twitter, Gavin asked about recommendations for a computer mouse and Fiona starts sending him pictures of actual mice.

“Its not ghey, if its on the moon”

Literally anything Fiona does as Po

Jeremy saying the heterosexual flag is boring

UNO THE MOVIE!

Geoff fucking cackling the whole time.

“here’s looking at you kid”

the video was almost 3 hours long

“you know what my favorite color is? blue” “oh really? You know what my favorite hand is? Yours

They all want it to end but no one wants to lose and so they fuck each other and that prolongs the game. Also they put on more rules, so they just keep getting more cards if they don’t have a card to match the previous

Alfredo saying he won’t participate in ghost hunter because he knows what happens to people of color in horror movies

Fiona walking in on Off Topic with a protein shake and Gavin asks if shes drinking milk and she says without missing a beat “ah no that’s cum” and everyone laughed not expecting the answer

(OLD) “SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKER” *falls in hole*

(OLD) Ray and Gav running in a panel dressed as X-Ray and Vav and Ray running the whole way around the room before he got to the stage

Duck taping Jeremy to the wall

(OLD) All of Minecraft Episode 3 Plan G (This was the very first AH video I watch and why I know who they are)

Geoff and Gav creating Achievement City and giving everyone houses just to prank Jack into burning house down with lava.

Ray’s house is a dirt block with no furniture and single torch

Geoff’s giant ass house next to Ray’s tiny house

Jack tries to destroy everything with lava throughout the episode

“lets be honest, I realistically didn’t lose anything”

Michael stealing art from Gav’s house “NOO! I want nice things”

The sign to Michael’s says “Awaiting Approval, Awaiting Approval, Awaiting Approval” he runs into house and say “I’m home”

Ray also steals this sign at some point

Plan G – The failsafe.

“Oh whats this? Is this a button? Whats this? (pushes button) Yeah it was a button”

“Did you push the button?”

“Yeah”

“okay”

“wh-what does it do?”

“uh…”

Cue Achievement City beginning to explode as Michael starts screaming

Rays reaction “NO, MY SHITTY HOUSE JUST GOT EVEN SHITTIER!”

Not something funny but something VERY IMPORTANT. AH admitting that they all fucked up and how shitty their behavior was when dealing with harassment in the fanbase. People were racist, sexist, homophobic, misogynistic, and just downright horrible to a lot of the employees at RT and AH. This came up after Mica Burton left the company and talked about it publicly and how nothing was done about it. Fiona who also experiences these same things, along with Lindsay and other employees, but Fiona took the charge on the Off Topic talking about people can’t continue to get away with that behavior. She got to sound off her feelings to a group of white men who all respected her and LISTENED to what was saying and how she felt. She cried; Geoff cried. They all want to do more, so this doesn’t happen in the future and they’re not tolerating the racist and horrible comments. AH taking a mature moment to talk about how they failed to stop these comments and Geoff was right when he said the company has a long way to go.

 Outside of AH each member has more to them than just all of the comedy and laughs and dumb shit they do

Geoff helped found Roosterteeth and Achievement Hunter. He has a beautiful daughter in Millie who is awesome in her own right. He’s a recovering alcoholic. Currently doing F**k Face podcasts. Was in the fucking army. Takes accountability for every mistake he makes.  

Jack also helped start Achievement Hunter. He does so much work for charity. His twitter is full of things to help people go vote. He’s like the dad to AH, especially Fiona. He’s happily married to his wife Caiti.

Michael was an electrician and has a lot of handy man experience. He made a few videos online about him raging at games and that got the attention of RT. He’s currently married to Lindsay who he met because of RT. They have two kids together.

Gavin is an expert at high speed filmmaking and know how use and edit footage from a slow-motion camera. He has worked on actual films. One of the creators of the Slow Mo Guys. Worked his ass off to get to work for RT. Currently dating model and cosplayer Meg Turney

Lindsay flips between being the mom of the group and a complete chaos queen and we all love her for it. She started as an editor for the RT podcast and then AH stuff. She is an incredible voice actor, most known for Ruby Rose (RWBY), Space Kid (Camp Camp), Hilda (Xray & Vav) just to name a few. She also has a degree in finance

Jeremy started as a fan who made videos on the community page. He took over Ray’s place after Ray left to do Twitch full time. He is a self-published author and a skilled rapper and singer. He’s currently married to his wife, Kat.

Matt also started as a fan making videos on the community page. He actually interacted and made stuff for the guys in really early Minecraft episodes. Seriously this guy is like king of Minecraft. He has a degree in electrical engineering. He also has pretty decent singing voice.

Trevor is THE BOSS. Has a degree in aero-space engineering and is getting paid to babysit AH. Currently dating Barbara Dunkelman, RTs queen of puns.

Alfredo worked at IGN before RT and is a well-known streamer. He is the best when it comes to first person shooter games. He and Trevor look so similar.

Fiona. Po. Her majesty. Host of This Just Internet. A Twitch streamer. Baby of the bunch. Grew up in Europe. Her and Gav act like a pair of siblings. She has stated and showed time and time again she will fight for people to have safe spaces for anyone who needs them.

Ify, our new guy. He is wonderful and I want to stay forever. He’s a comedian, a writer, and an actor. Co hosts F-ing Around with Fiona. Has his own film podcast, Who Shot Ya? I look forward to more content with him in it, cause everything he’s been in so far has been great.

 Were all hurting but well make it through this

We have all these wonderful moments and a lot more that I didn’t list and this incredible team of personalities with their own accomplishments and achievements. Not to mention old team members who were also great additions and the entire crew behind the scenes editing and making videos look the best that they can.

 Here’s to Achievement Hunter and to this community. We need to be here for each other in times like these.

@theonyxranger gave me the idea for this based on their own post they made about the fans giving their favorite moments without bitch face and there were just too many. Oop. 

[storiessandstudiess]

Love, actually.

PART ONE OF ???

Prompt: "I escaped my family- that's the reason why I'm here in the first place. I can't just join a new one.".

Pairing: Michael Bluth x reader

Bold sentences: narrator

Warnings: comedy,angst and fluff, but mostly comedy

You see that sad girl sitting on that park bench? That's Y/N Y/L/N, she just broke up with someone she would have described as the "man of her dreams" to her mother. But she hasn't talked to her in a while and if she did speak to her mother she would have told her that leaving him was the best decision.

Y/N who leans back and looks over the beach of Newport Beach:"I made a huge mistake.".

Two weeks ago Y/N had met a man called Michael Bluth after she moved in into the building next to the building of his company.

Michael walks down the street while he talks into the phone:"No mother, we talked this through he's not only your grandson, he's also my son he won't take part in this stupid-".

He let's out a frustrated sigh:"Why don't you simply ask Buster? I thinks he'd be happy to help.".

"Buster is being really difficult these days, his behavior is far from what I taught him.",she says, her voice being clearly louder in the end, so her youngest son was able to her her dissatisfaction.

"You taught him to behave a certain way?",

Michael asks confused and stops as he sees how a beautiful woman carries a big brown cardboard box into a building.

"I'm sorry Mom, but I have to go.".

"Michael, don't you dare hang up."

But he did hang up on her.

"Hey.",Michael said and the woman with the y/h/c hair turned around to look at him. When her eyes meet his a smile appears on her lips.

"Oh hey.".

She was even more prettier up close.

"I'm sorry, this might seem weird but I was just walking down that street.",he points behind him:"and I'm working in the building over there. I saw you and I am wondering if you need any help." .

The woman looks at him for a second before she nods her head:"That would be great, thank you.".

"My name is Michael by the way.".

"I'm Y/N.".

And while Michael takes a box into his hands and helps her bring them inside her apartment one by one he is confused why a beautiful woman like her would be all alone.

"Well...this might sound weird.",she says and scratches the back of her head as she sits down on the couch:"But I moved here from New York City- to escape my family.".

This didn't sound weird at all.

"So this is like a brand new start for you?",he asks and the woman runs a hand through her hair as she sighs.

"Exactly. Now I as my first stop I need to find myself a job.".

And without thinking about it for even a solid minute Michael just says...

"You could work for my company.", He exclaims and the woman stares at him as her expressions soften:"We actually need a new assistant."

After Kitty and Michael's sister Lindsay he didn't have a proper assistant for his company and he was honestly in need of someone who could help him out

"I can't do that.",she answers her voice is barely more than a whispers.

"Why?".

But she didn't have an answer for that. She just looks at him for a few seconds before she shakes her head:"That would be wonderful, Michael. Thank you so much.".

And so Michael found himself a new assistant and ten minutes later he was already showing her around in the office.

"And that's your desk.", Michael says and Y/N sits down on the chair, he leans forward and pushes some buttons on the telephone while he explains how to use it.

The woman, who is even more attractive really really up close smiles at him and he can't help himself but to stare at her lips.

"See, it's no magic-".

"Did someone say magic?".

Michael did, but right now he just wishes he didn't.

Gob, Michael's brother suddenly appears out of purple smoke infront the desk Y/N is sitting at and she starts coughing violently.

"Gob what the hell- Y/N are you okay?",Michael looks at his brother angrily before he turns his full attention to his new assistant:"Should I get you some water?",he asks but leaves before she even has the chance to answer.

As he gives Y/N the bottle he looks at her apologetic:"I am so sorry for my brother. He can be a pain in the ass sometimes. What do you think? Let's escape this office and go for a coffee?".

Soon, both were at the beach and Michael tried to find the courage to ask her out.

Because the woman infront of him was not only kind but also funny and responsible.

"So...Y/N....",he says as he looks at her:"Tell me more about your family.".

But the woman only shakes her head:"They're... Well for the past decade I had to take care of basically everything and everyone in my family. I had controlling parents and obnoxious siblings. I just couldn't do it anymore, you know. I just had enough at some point and I never want to have anything to do with any family drama again."

As soon as the last sentence leaves her mouth his face expressions widen.

Next time on ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT

Michael who's crush on his assistant is growing with each day tries to find a way to make his family disappear or if that doesn't work out he will try to still change Y/N's mind on the topic family.

Buster and Lucille are still having a fight over Buster's new girlfriend, which turns out to be the daughter of Lucille's old high school rival.

And George Michael still hasn't figured out what to do with his crush on his cousin Maeby.

[aflawedfashion]

The MVPs of season 5’s first half were Michael Cera and Alia Shawkat, who’ve developed into distinctively soulful, effortlessly hilarious young actors. They’re both still a treat to watch, even when the material isn’t so good. 

My thoughts exactly. When I started the second half of season 5, it took a lot of effort not to fast forward to their scenes because after the first half, they were the only reason I was tuning in the day it was released. I wish the show hadn’t taken so much focus away from them in the second half.

I’ve always enjoyed those characters, but they really impressed me in the first half by growing their strange dynamic while remaining one of the best, most genuine relationships in the show years after we last saw them. The only two members of that family that really felt like a family were the kissing cousins. 

The actors returned to their roles and found the chemistry between them like no time had passed. It’s not often that actors come back to a rebooted show with the ability to play the characters better than when they left, but they did. Alia Shawkat nailed Maeby’s over the top character, and Michael Cera played her calm but equally strange counterpart perfectly.

I know George Michael and Maeby were making out in the background in the end. I know that says a lot about where they stand, and I was happy with where they ended up, but it would have added A LOT to show something meaningful between them (in a way that fit their characters, of course - no need to go sappy romcom on me). And honestly that’s all I wanted. One good George Michael/Maeby scene to end the show, and it would have had me.

But, the ending was fine. It didn’t jump the shark. I don’t really know what to say about it. I was over some of these plot lines, but I didn’t want to be left hanging wondering what happened with Fake Block at the end of this season. I would have groaned in frustration if they hadn’t ended that. And they did. They resolved those plot lines they started 400 years ago.

And I’m glad we saw Lindsay one more time - I was worried we’d never see her again, so it was a pleasant surprise.

But I mostly just feel a whole lot of nothing about it. I could dig into critiquing it, but it is what it is. It’s a show from a different era coming to an end long after it started and still feels like it’s in that era. I’m not going to talk about the GOB storyline... I was almost watching around it for fear of how cringy it could turn out.

And the thing is... after watching so many series finales that wrecked me with how much I hate some/all of the decisions, this show earns points for just not fucking it all up. Honestly, I don’t need another finale that goes too hard and fucks everything up. It could have been better, but it feels over now.

And, as I said when I started this post, I was watching for George Michael and Maeby, so my biggest take away is that I’m glad they didn’t fuck them up. It was a wasted opportunity not to use them to their full potential in these last episodes, but the show didn’t ruin their characters, so that’s something. 

I still just want a series of 10 minutes webisodes around George Michael and Maeby’s random adventures more than anything else. 

And that’s my initial reaction. I just finished this episode a few minutes ago, so my opinions haven’t fully formed, but that’s how I feel about the ending right now. 

[ragehappysecretsanta]

Date Night Interrupted

Author: http://canadiantardis.tumblr.com/

Recipient: http://meganna2525.tumblr.com

Summary: Lindsay is taken on the worst day possible - date night with her partners - but she trusts them to know how to save her before anything bad happens.

Warnings: Teen rating, swearing, mild violence, polyamory (Mavinseg), pregnancy, FAHC AU

Word Count: 5568

Date Night Interrupted

Lindsay grunted at the right hook to her cheek, her head whipping to the side from the force, but still she couldn’t help but laugh, even as she felt the blood fill her mouth and drip from her lips from her teeth biting her tongue.

Some upstart crew thought they had the jump on the Fakes, thinking if they ‘took the weakest link’ of the wild bunch that was Lindsay and her partners, they’d be able to demand turf and dealers as method of payment for ransom. Yeah, sure, she had been easy to kidnap on her way home from the cat shelter she volunteered at every other day, and it stung her pride how they thought so lowly of her, but she knew something they would soon learn if they survived the lesson.

“Stupid bitch.” The punk who had punched her muttered angrily, turning away from the redhead in disgust.

Lindsay just laughed in response, baring her blood-stained teeth at his back as he walked out of the ‘torture’ room she was stuck in. Personally, she found it lackluster and had no flavour like Ryan had made his torture chambers to look. This room was bare except for the bolted chair, a couple lights imbedded into the ceiling that shown the dark gray walls easily, and a plain as hell metal door that was the only entrance or exit out of the room.

Now that she was alone for the first time since waking up with that god-awful headache from the struggle she had against the upstarts – which she remembered being from her head being smashed into the pavement until she had lost consciousness – she took stock over her new injuries. Cuts and scrapes along her arms and palms from the struggle – with a few exceptions as the cats had been extra playful during her volunteering time – the back of her head most likely split open as her hair felt like it was sticking to her, and her face felt like a giant bruise from the ridiculously unnecessary beatings they gave her to rough her up before they sent any evidence that they had taken her. Her chest and stomach weren’t badly beaten, which was lucky – or about as lucky as a kidnapped felon could get – for her and the three-and-a-half-month fetus inside her.

Lindsay also took the time to look over the state of her clothes, and was sad that her pretty fading-red dress and leggings were both torn, neck hole stretched, and the front edges were frayed to hell. She couldn’t blame the cats she had been taking care of for the multiple small holes and stretched fabric from this morning, they wouldn’t do this much damage at their worst.

She wasn’t sure where her purse was, which had her ASP pistol – which she has lovingly named Ruby after she got it painted a beautiful red – and phone, among other stuff. She guessed it was either with the punks or back on the street where she had been taken.

She realized a little late that the blood dripping from her lip was falling onto the dress and she groaned in annoyance. It was going to take forever to get the stain out, even longer if she wasn’t rescued within the hour.

“Come on. This was supposed to be Date Night.” She grumbled to herself quietly. Because of the damn upstarts, who knew when she and her lovers were going to have another one. “Son of a fucking bitch.”

** 4 Hours Later **

Lindsay was normally late to Date Nights when they happened on days she volunteered at the cat shelter on the outskirts of Los Santos named Kate Shelly. Because a member of the Fake AH Crew was a regular volunteer at the shelter, the place had become a safe haven for cats, the workers and other volunteers were granted complete protection/immunity, and the place never got heavily taxed or had to struggle to stay afloat.

Oftentimes – meaning every other month or so – Gavin would join Lindsay to visit the cute little fuzzballs, and he had today, but had to leave early at the request of the Lads needing his computer skills for something.

He had kissed Lindsay on the temple – her mouth and most of her face was covered by a long-haired calico she had been cooing into –  and put a hand to her belly before leaving, promising to see her at their apartment this evening. She had given a muffled response, laughing at the kitten in her hands as it mewed in complaint.

Now, several hours later, Gavin and the other two lounged around their living area, Michael picking at his shirtsleeves idly, leaning against the other man comfortably.

“When did she say she finished?” Meg asked from her spot on the recliner, playing with her skirts in boredom.

Michael pulled out his phone before he answered. “‘I promise I’ll be done in an hour.’ Sent three fucking hours ago. She always does this, Jesus Christ!”

“But Micoo, the kitties!” Gavin protested in defense for his fellow cat lover in her absence. “She might have forgotten the time again because of ‘em. C’mon, we just need to call her and talk her ear off until she gets here.”

Michael huffed in mild annoyance, but not the anger he played up for the public, and tossed his phone at Meg. “You do it this time, Turney. I got kicked-puppy eyes for a month straight after the last time.”

“Fine, fine, I don’t need your phone to call her, Mikey.” She tossed the phone back to him before she grabbed her own phone and went about calling Lindsay’s number, flipping her hair away from her ear to hear properly.

There was a brief silence before they all heard the faint sound of the phone being answered before Meg laid it on thick. “Have you forgotten again, babe?” She stuck her bottom lip out like Lindsay would be able to physically see it. “You know we’ve been wanting to see this movie for weeks.”

Gavin and Michael just barely heard an incoherent reply but saw Meg stiffen, her back straightening and feet planting on the floor, her eyes bright and staring at nothing to listen intently. Michael almost asked what was going on but seemed to think better of it. Both men were attentive to their girlfriend’s reactions, aware something wasn’t right.

“Wow.” She barked a laugh, venom lacing her tone. “How fucking stupid are you? You know what’s going to happen to you because of your little gamble?” There was an answer but Meg cut it off. “I’ll cut off your balls and stuff them down your throats. Unless of course, you’ve realized the errors of your ways and let my beautiful girlfriend go on her way and maybe she’ll forget your ugly-ass mugs and we’ll let you live your pathetically short lives in peace.”

Meg’s face grew red with anger, her free hand digging nails into the armrest and her jaw clenched. Whatever she heard as an answer to her threat didn’t go the way she wanted, before she dropped her phone, the two men hearing the end call beep coming from her phone.

“Get Ryan or Geoff on the phone.” She commanded in a hard voice, making Michael and Gavin scramble for their respective phones and call their friends, looking to Meg for instructions. “Tell them a bunch of assholes took Lindsay for ransom. Gunna need a lot of manpower to find her before we go guns blazing.”

The young men nodded and took off to different parts of the apartment as the people they called answered in various states of curiosity and confusion, before they slowly took an angry tone as they listened to the two explain what they knew.

“Did they say their crew name?” Ryan asked Gavin in a growl.

“Hang on, I’ll ask.” He replied, pulling his phone away from his mouth to speak to Meg. “Did they mention a crew name or anything?”

“No, but the man who spoke to me had a nasally voice, like this.” She spoke as if she had a stuffed nose. “Must have been an upstart crew. Look around the path Lindsay normally takes home from the shelter for more, ‘cause I don’t know.”

Gavin nodded and repeated everything to the Vagabond over the line.

“Alright. Thanks. I’ll make sure to save some bloodshed for you three.” He promised.

“Thanks, Rye-bread. Hear back soon?”

“Yeah, course. Oh, hey, sorry Date Night’s cancelled again.” His tone had gotten softer just before hanging up.

Gavin sighed, nodding to air as he put down his phone.

“Geoff’s rallying the troops, and they’ll start searching in a couple minutes.” Michael said a minute later, striding back towards Meg and Gavin, looking down at his button-up and dark jeans and shrugged. “So much for Date Night.”

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

Although this wasn’t the first time Lindsay had been captured by a rival gang, this was the first time she was captured because of her relationship with Gavin, Meg, and Michael, and while she was pregnant.

The four were known by and large in the underworld as being the strongest team in the Fake AH Crew, what with Michael and Meg’s killer streaks and Gavin’s unbelievable technological abilities and smarts. But – and it was somewhat her own fault in this – Lindsay’s strength was never known to anyone outside the Crew.

She could tell this was why the upstarts thought they could cut down the strongest team by taking her.

As she waited in the barren, boring torture room, Lindsay thought it would be best if she tried to doze to pass the time, wondering how long it’ll be before her trio rescued her ass. She wondered if they’d be able to find her with or without help, before her eyes slipped shut and the next thing she knew her neck was leant to one side rather uncomfortably and the light had been turned off.

With a loud groan, she brought her head back up and tilted it to the other side, wincing in discomfort as she tried to fix the crick in her neck. She rotated her head as best she could, ignoring the discomfort, when she heard the distinctively loud footfalls coming towards her room, and she winced again when the lights turned back on, assaulting her eyes suddenly.

The same punk as before entered with a grin. Lindsay’s eyebrow rose.

“With a smile like that, you don’t look nearly as stupid as you really are.” She said, mocking cheer, hoping to push some of the man’s buttons.

The grin grew forced for a moment before it relaxed, much to Lindsay’s disappointment. “With a face like that, you don’t look nearly as much of a whore as you really are.” The punk replied with just as much false cheer in his voice as she had.

“What do you want.” Her face went flat as her tone got monotone.

“Nothing. Just wanted to let you know your lovers have been informed of your predicament. My men said that other slut was downright furious when we didn’t agree to her command to let you free.”

“Stupid decision, then.” Lindsay replied, her mind buzzing. If they knew she was taken, they could possibly be able to track the phone and find them in no time flat.

It seemed something in her expression changed to show her thoughts as the upstart chuckled lowly. Her eyes narrowed at him, demanding an answer to what he thought was so funny.

“If you thought we would keep anything of yours that could be traced back here, you really are stupid. We weren’t born yesterday, bitch.”

“No, if you were born yesterday, you’d already be smarter than you are.” Lindsay retorted, but she began to worry. She knew there were other ways of finding where she had been taken, but those ways took so much longer than Gavin hacking and tracing a source. She could only hope the upstart crew had contacted her lovers nearby so they could be in the ballpark of where she was.

“So, what now?” She asked, leaning her head back with a look of boredom on her face. “Do we play the waiting game until they come here?”

The punk’s grin grew. “We’re going to be playing a little game of cat and mouse with those three, until we get every little bit of information out of you, or until they agree to our terms. You see, our bases are connected to the railway, with the only ways in or out through the train tracks.”

“You really think you’ll be able to hide from the Fakes?” Lindsay let out of a bark of laughter, feeling dried blood crack and flake on her chin. “They’ll find me and you’ll have a few hundred bullets in the head and I’ll only have been roughed up.”

“How much do you want to bet on that?” The punk leered.

“I’ll bet your pathetic life on it.”

“How about something on you, bitch. If they don’t come get you by midnight tonight, you answer one question a friend of mine will ask. If they do, as you said, I’ll be dead.” His grin was stereotypically villainous.

Lindsay bared her teeth again in answer, leaning her head back against the headrest.

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

They heard from Ryan first, just as the three entered the Fake Penthouse where they could hear orders being told by Geoff to someone on the phone. Only the Inner Circle and B-Team were allowed in the Penthouse that doubled as Geoff’s main home and the Fake’s more casual base of operations.

Gavin’s phone rang with the opening notes of Sleeping At Last’s ‘Saturn’ before he heard Ryan’s voice muffled by his mask.

“You at the penthouse yet? Need you in the sights right about now.” He grumbled, way too forward, much like how he got when the Vagabond was around.

Gavin nodded, slipping away from his loves to head to his ‘Room’ where his tech was. “Just got in. Computers’ll take a minute before I can get in, found anything yet, Vaga?”

“Yes.” He could hear the eye-roll through the mask and line at the nickname, which was the entire reason Gavin still calls him that. “Traces of blood that are long-dried on a sidewalk about a forth of the way away from the shelter. Quiet street, only a couple bugged places and barely any buildings this way.”

“Alright. Which street?” Gavin asked, his computers up and running and he was already looking through cameras to hopefully find the right one.

“Along the shoulder of the highway. Still considered the main street, but it’s mostly road.” Vagabond informed, rattling off coordinates until Gavin found him in the cameras.

“Ah, gotcha. Okay, checking through the stream. Anything else you got?” Gavin asked offhand as he traced back from the camera.

“Only the blood, I think it was either from a headwound or some area that bleeds a lot from a small wound. Also, a hairclip.”

“Her cat ear hairclip?” He questioned, slowing down his search as he saw Lindsay enter the camera’s view, several hours earlier. He frowned. Lindsay had texted saying she was still in the shelter an hour after this timestamp.

“Yeah, the little black and yellow ear things.” Ryan’s voice came through with a quiet chuckle. “Though I still say it’s a bowclip, not cat ears.”

“You know Lindsay. When she gets something in her head, she sticks with it.” Gavin said without really paying attention, watching the video a couple times before an angry bird trill escaped. “These mofos did something to the stream. They must’ve known about the bugged places and took them down for just long enough to take Linds.”

“Fuck. Okay.” Ryan’s voice slipped back into Vagabond’s. “What do you have?”

“Lindsay appears for a full three seconds before the stream cuts forward a full two minutes later, with only the clip and blood visible, but really small and grainy because of the shite quality. Guessing they did something to turn off the video feed or something.” He continued to mutter. “But it doesn’t make sense, the timestamp says 3:02, but she was still at the shelter at 4…”

“… Gavin, you hadn’t thought about the possibility the assholes were the ones texting you with her phone? It’s the only logical explanation.”

“Shit… She’s been missing longer than we thought. Shit, shit, shit. R-Vagabond, are there any tracks from the vehicle they used? Any sort of tracks? It rained just that morning over there. Streets should still have a bit of moisture to show tracks.”

“This is a busy street, Gavin.”

“Well, what the hell do you suggest, Vagabond?” Gavin snapped, worry pooling in his guts. They had been wrong by about four hours. Leads were already getting cold in his mind, irrational fear clouding his thoughts with the regret that he should have stayed with Lindsay.

“First off, calm the fuck down, Free. Hope isn’t lost. Check other cameras along this street. They can’t have been smart enough to cover their tracks completely. Check earlier in this feed for the car. No one ever thinks about these things, only the current, more important parts.”

Gavin nodded and followed the orders mechanically, distantly hearing his door opening and just knew it was Meg by the faint draft of her cheap perfume she decided to try for the date. She said nothing, but her presence washed over him like a physical aura, reminding him how to feel calm.

Her fingers brushed through his hair and he felt his mind clear enough to focus on the task at hand.

“Okay, yeah, you’re right. Hang on, I’ll dig what I can get.”

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

Lindsay was given a wall clock to watch tick away the time until the stupid bet was called off. She wouldn’t say it aloud, but she was glad to hear something other than her breath when the upstarts left her alone. At least it was a familiar noise that set her at ease, knowing the punks weren’t anywhere near her for the time being.

But, in the same vein, her worry grew with every minute that passed. She watched at it turned to 11pm, and there was still no sign of her rescue.

As it inched closer to midnight, the punk appeared again with a smug smile that Lindsay furiously wanted to deck. He didn’t even say a fucking thing while they waited and watched the time tick by.

“Would you look at that? They aren’t here.” The clock barely struck midnight when the upstart started talking, wheeling around to face her.

Lindsay simply glared at him, knowing he was going to try to get information out of her, but she wouldn’t even for a stupid bet like this. She may not have a lot of power in her situation, but she was going to keep the one thing they wanted close to her heart.

“I believe you lost a pointless bet.” He continued, moving to tower over her, a move she had seen countless punks do to look scarier than they were. If her legs hadn’t been tied to the chair legs, she would have busted his nuts. The only people allowed that close to her was her friends and lovers, not upstart punks who kidnap her.

“If it was pointless, then it should be void.” Lindsay replied, her glare hard.

“No, it was still a real bet, missy. So, how did that bet go? Your people don’t show up, you give us…?” He gave a smirk, dramatically thinking hard. “Oh, that’s right, you answer a question honestly that a friend of mine will ask.”

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

The upstart’s ‘friend’ gave off the same vibe Lindsay got when she first met the Vagabond. Cold, weird, impassive. But at the same time, he was nothing like the Vagabond, or Ryan even. He wore a pressed suit, and acted like he was professional assassin or something. This crew was pulling all the levers to look like a cliché gang.

Neither had spoken a single word since the ‘friend’ had entered the room. The upstart had left long ago. Lindsay had raised an eyebrow at the guy briefly, waiting for him to speak first, and now they were in a long silence that felt neither awkward nor comfortable.

Finally, after ten minutes of silence, Lindsay broke the silence with a witty remark. “So, you know that saying, a picture lasts longer? Yeah, might want to take a picture then.” She ends with a sarcastic smile, trying to egg the suited guy on.

But it didn’t seem to be her day. The man blinked a couple times but still wouldn’t respond. Lindsay was getting fed up with this treatment.

“Okay, what’s the question you want me to answer?” She demanded.

This got a reaction out of him. He straightened, and in a tone that was equally as cold, weird and impassive as his body language, he finally spoke. “What are the real names of Rimmy Tim and Vagabond?”

Lindsay had thought she was ready for any question they would try to get out of her, but this one surprised her. They weren’t looking for locations, but names… Oh.

“Why would you want to know?” She asked, playing dumb and hoping to stall for time to think. Like hell would she give their actual names, but she wasn’t sure if they knew Ryan and Jeremy’s names already and were just testing to see if she were telling the truth. After all, if they did some close digging – and had someone like Gavin on the team – they’d be able to figure out their names. “And what does that have to do with getting territory and dealers for your upstart crew?”

It was like the man went on mute again. Not a peep came from him. He was more robot than person, and the familiar vibe the Vagabond gave off ended. This guy was nothing like him.

“Sorry, buddy. I’m not telling you jack shit. You could search everything on me and still not find the Fakes real names.” And it was true, all the contacts were nicknames or codenames each member used the most, just in case she lost her phone or got caught, like now.

“I would rather not have to hurt you further.” The man said. “Unlike my coworkers, I do not have a death wish. But a job is a job.”

“Listen, buddy. Doesn’t matter what you do to me. Everyone in this base is still dead when the Fakes find out where I am. And that’ll include you.” Lindsay held no sympathy to the assassin man. If he didn’t want to hurt someone, he wouldn’t, job or no. “My crew don’t take too kindly to members being kidnapped for ransom.”

“Just tell me the names of Rimmy Tim and Vagabond, and you will not be hurt any more than you are, Miss Rose.” The man ordered, stepping forward and grabbing a large chunk of her hair, making her cry out as he pulled, causing the split skin on the back of her head to reopen.

“I’d never rat out my friends.” She replied with gritted teeth, her eyes narrowed into slits from pain and anger.

They stared at each other for a full minute in silence, a contest of wills, when they heard the distant sounds of gunfire. Immediately the man let go of Lindsay, real emotion showing on his face. He was scared.

Lindsay grinned, laughing loudly. She could practically hear her lovers coming for her. “I told you assholes. I fucking told you.” She bared her teeth again at the man. “Never mess with the Fakes.”

They heard running before the upstart punk burst through the door, his eyes wild. He went right up to Lindsay and punched her painfully hard across the cheek, making her bite her tongue again. “You fucking bitch! How did they find us?!”

She laughed in response, blood bubbling down her lips. “We’re the Fake AH Crew, bitch.”

The upstart growled, turning to the other man. “Untie her and follow me. We have to move her before they find us.”

The sounds of gunfire were getting steadily closer, and Lindsay couldn’t help but find the entire thing fucking hilarious. She laughed as the man untied her from the bolted chair, laughed as they took her out of the room and she saw the rest of the base, which was equally as drab and boring and clichédly villain’s lair as the torture chamber.

She continued to laugh until the upstart turned back and gut-punched her, and her entire being froze with sudden fear for the still-developing baby inside her.

“Shut the fuck up.” The upstart snapped, turning back to continue walking when he dropped with a spray of blood.

Standing at the entrance of a corridor stood wonderful, beautiful, gorgeous Meg, her face dark and thunderously pissed off. Lindsay began to think she saw the punch and had the same fear as she had. She pointed her rose gold gun at the other man with a sneer.

“Let her go and die, or die.” Her tone was laced with hate. “I’d rather not let my beautiful girlfriend get sprayed by filthy blood like yours.”

The man hesitated for a second before he stepped away from Lindsay, his gun dropping to the floor as his hands went up without complaint. He had a calm expression on his face, as if he accepted his fate.

Staying out of the line of sight, Lindsay found her legs shaking as she quickly crossed over, barely wincing at the sound of Meg’s gun shooting before she wrapped her arms tightly around her girlfriend, laughing a little more genuinely than before, and both pretended they couldn’t feel the damp cheeks on the other. Just because kidnappings weren’t a rare occurrence didn’t mean they no longer felt fear for/as the victim.

They stayed for a moment wrapped around each other before Meg let go first, tapping her ear to connect with the others. “I got her. Heading out now.” She looked to Lindsay briefly with a question on her face that she understood easily. Lindsay nodded and her girlfriend ordered no survivors.

No one angered the Fakes and lived long to tell the tale.

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

It had been exactly as the Vagabond had said, the idiots forgot to cover them arriving and taking down the cameras along the way to their hideout, though it took much longer than Gavin would have liked.

All the same, when he found where the van had stopped at, it was an easy thing to track through poorly defended camera streams. He told Geoff and Michael first, and then stayed behind to be their eagle eye.

He didn’t like staying behind when it was Lindsay they were getting back, and he was a good shot – better when he was pissed off for some reason – but he understood the others would need help finding their way around the base.

Gavin watched as the Fakes burst into the base, keeping an eye out for any idiot who had the bright idea to flank his friends and lovers, and while he wasn’t there, he felt a surge of glee at each asshole the others shot down.

He was the first to hear Meg after she got to Lindsay, and then seconds later saw the footage of the two walking close together – whether Lindsay was hurt badly or just needed help walking, Gavin couldn’t tell – towards the nearest exit he told Meg to go to. He saw Michael roar and launch himself at the enemies. No survivors. Michael and the Vagabond were going to fulfill that order with glee, Gavin could easily see that.

Gavin wanted to head off and wait for Meg and Lindsay to return to the penthouse, knowing Michael was going to take a while, but had to keep an eye on the other Fakes so none were overwhelmed. Just in case. He told them where the enemies hid, or where they were trying to flee. If he had a more normal conscience, the sight of his friends murdering fleeing gang members would have sat uncomfortably with him, but he relished in it. They hurt Lindsay. They were not going to be given mercy. The Fakes weren’t the top dogs in Los Santos for being nice ormerciful all the time.

The entire massacre took about half an hour in total, and by that time, Meg and Lindsay had returned, with Caleb looking over her injuries. Gavin was just ending the communications and heading out of his ‘Room’ towards the infirmary when he heard Lindsay ask about the likelihood of punch to the stomach killing a baby.

“It would vary on the assault, and if it was a recurring assault. You’ll have to see another doctor and see if they can check on the baby’s health to make sure it’s going to be okay.” Caleb replied. “But if that baby gets anything from you, it’ll be your luck.”

Gavin entered the infirmary soon after Caleb spoke, causing the three to look at him. The girls relaxed instantly and Meg went to kiss him on the cheek.

“What’s this about baby killing?” Gavin asked.

“The upstarts tried to rough me up a bit, including punching me in the stomach.” Lindsay’s hand rubbed her stomach slowly. “I wanna make sure it’s going to be okay.”

“Shit… It’ll be fine. Like Caleb said, you’ve got the strangest luck in the world, and that baby is going to get it too. I’m sure of it, love.” He assured, heading over to her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her softly.

The three stayed in Caleb’s infirmary until the rest arrived, splashed in dried blood and small bits of other stuff. Ryan looked like he was just in a Viking attack with how red his mask looked, but other than various superficial wounds, no one had been badly hurt. Michael went straight to Lindsay and kissed her deeply, and Gavin could tell their girls were happy to see him again.

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

As with any rescue mission, there was a long recovering period the victim and the closer loved ones went through before getting back to normal. This time was a little more stressful because of the fetus’s life was at stake for a good week before it was confirmed nothing was wrong, and the baby was still on track to be a healthy pregnancy.

After that scare was over, recovering from the kidnapping was spent with her partners near constantly. Gavin stayed with her when they went to the shelter, with even Meg accompanying them at times to see the two entertain the cats or help around the front desk.

At home, the other three were almost choking Lindsay with affection, but it was nice. There were more soft kisses, more laying across her lap like a pillow, more playing with her hair. They had to be careful with her hair though, because of the stitches from the split skin at the back of her head. It would take another few weeks before the scarring would be the only reminder of this particular kidnapping.

About a month and a half after the kidnapping and rescue, the four were getting ready for Date Night again. Lindsay chose the day so she wouldn’t be busy with kitties, and the others planned around the day. The guys wore button down shirts, and Meg wore jeans and a deep V-neck blouse. Lindsay herself wore a dress and leggings again, as jeans wouldn’t be comfortable while pregnant.

“Oh, you look lovely, babe.” Meg said when Lindsay got out of the bathroom in her dress, twirling her finger to ask her to spin the dress, kissing her sweetly on the lips. “You ready?”

“Yeah, are the guys ready?”

“We’ve been ready for a fucking hour!” They heard Michael shout from the entryway with staged anger. “Hurry up before we leave your slow asses behind and go dancing by ourselves.”

“We’re coming, we’re coming. Jeez, assholes.” Lindsay shouted back with a smile, laughing when Meg quietly made a ‘that’s what she said’ joke as they headed towards the boys.

Each of the four had a certain quality about them that made them dangerous to enemies. Michael and Meg were killers, deadly shots and explosions were they’re favourite methods. Gavin was incredibly smart and the best hacker in Los Santos. But Lindsay’s strength was different.

Lindsay was the luckiest person in the weirdest way possible. She could be shooting at an angle and hit a target dead centre by accident, and then trip over her own feet the next second. She was lucky enough to not be with one person, but three of the most ruthless and beautiful people she ever had the pleasure of knowing, and in only three months, they were all going to be raising the luckiest child in the world.

As they headed out of their apartment, Lindsay wrapped her arms around Gavin and Michael’s waists and held them close to her, Meg walking ahead of them with the gentle evening breeze blowing her hair behind her as she moved.

It was nice, returning to normalcy and having Date Nights again, and Lindsay could never regret how her life got to this very moment in time.

[adscititious-cacoethes]

Petrichor (7/12)

Pairing: Eventual Trevor C./Reader; other background relationships Chapter: 7 of 12 Warnings: Swearing, TALKS ABOUT BLOOD/DRINKING BLOOD (nothing graphic), Sneaky Suspicious Lindsay, Fae stuff, More Pining, the closest thing to non-danger-related angst I’ll ever write, Trevvvvvooorrrr, vampires and werewolves and things that go bump in the night (PG-13) Word Counts: Chapter: 3,547 Total: 26,134 A/N: New day, new part! Just as a notice for all, this is one of the chapters where the warnings are actually important. If you’re concerned, please contact me and I can explain to you what exactly goes down so that you can decide if you’re comfortable with it. I promise there’s nothing graphic though!  Reminder that this has a bunch of supernatural-y stuff, and also that this would not have seen the light of day (pun intended), if it weren’t for @chefgeofframsay. P.S. - Feedback would be cool P. P. S. - sorry if any chapters end kind of weird, this was written as one long thing and then I decided to break it up.  Previous|Next

The next few days went by in a blur, nothing particularly out of the ordinary happening. Jeremy continued to ask questions and make comments regarding his new-found knowledge to just about everyone (“Ryan, can you really fly?” “I can’t, personally, but I know a guy who can.” “Is it Trevor?” “No.”), and although he texted you quite a bit, you only saw Trevor once, for a few hours on Thursday afternoon.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I have to go do some stuff for Geoff the next couple days, follow some leads from a few of your dad’s cases, but don’t worry, Lindsay and the guys will take care of you.” He had said, putting his hand on your shoulder and smiling that warm, toothy smile at you.

You had resisted the urge to hug him.

You regretted that.

So now a week had gone by since you first met Geoff & Co. (you refused to call them AH, even in your head, until you figured out what that meant…which would involve asking, but you didn’t feel like that was something you could ask), and it was Sunday, and you were staring up at your bedroom ceiling, trying and failing not to think about Trevor, while Lindsay and Michael sat on your couch in the living room. It was Lindsay’s turn tonight, technically, but since she and Michael are together – something you discovered by accident, but made sense in retrospect – Michael had asked if you minded hosting one more for the night, and you didn’t think you could’ve refused him, even if you wanted to.

There was a soft knock on your open door, and you lifted your head to see Lindsay in the doorway, a soft smile on her face.

“Hey there.” She said, and you grunted in response, waving her in lazily with one hand. You had dropped your illusion, so she could see your wings shimmering around you – everyone except for Jeremy had seen your wings, now, because you’d taken to the fuck it attitude and dropping your illusion as soon as you were safely in your apartment every night. Jeremy had asked not to see them until he got to the book about fae, stating that he wanted to understand before experiencing, which was something that you could appreciate.

“Sup, Lindsay?” You asked, your voice softer than you would’ve liked.

“Nothing. Can I come in?” She asked, and you sat up, nodding.

“Of course you can.” You had grown to really like Lindsay, the valkyrie seeming to understand the weirdness of your situation better than the boys, who seemed to be treating this like just another job, and you like just another friend (which is was, and you hoped that you were, respectively).

Lindsay shut the door behind her softly and sat down next to you on the bed.

“Just got a call from Geoff, Trevor will be back tomorrow, so hopefully this big rotation thing can stop and you’ll get some semblance of normalcy back. He didn’t find anything, which is good, ‘cause that means we’ve narrowed it down to five potential people that could be targeting you and your family. Well, your family through you.” She said, patting your thigh and smiling.

“That’s good,” You said, and you couldn’t tell if you were talking about the Trevor thing or the what Trevor found thing (spoilers: you could tell, and it was the former). You and Lindsay sat there for a moment in silence, and then something registered in your brain, “wait, why will the quote-unquote ‘big rotation thing’ stop?”

Lindsay chuckled, “Well, I mean at least one other person will come to Books and More Books every day, just because of all the customers and the multiple floors, and whatever, but you won’t have to wonder who’s going to be staying with you every night.”

“Yeah, but why would it be Trevor?” You caught the edge of Lindsay’s sly smile before she schooled her face into something more neutral.

“You two seem to get along well, is all.” She said, but you could tell she was holding something back. You debated with yourself whether or not to call her out on it (aka ask her timidly because you didn’t want to upset her) for a few silent moments, ultimately sighing inwardly and deciding against it.

“Alright. Thanks, Lindsay.” You finally muttered, knocking your shoulder against hers gently.

The two of you sat together for a couple more minutes, Lindsay humming to herself and you debating whether or not to tell Lindsay about your crush.

Because it was that – a crush. You admit it. You thought Trevor was handsome, and you knew he could handle himself, and he was funny and super nice and considerate. He kept sending you funny gifs and videos of dogs, especially when he knew that you were up late at the store. He kept popping up in your dreams. You’d taken to only reading books about and/or by vampires for the past week or so, because even though you knew a lot about vampires, Trevor made you want to have it all fresh on your mind.

Maybe it was a little more than a crush.

Lindsay shifted on the bed, and feeling her move jolted you out of your thoughts.

“I think he’s cute.” You blurted out, the words out of your mouth before you had even registered you were saying them, and once you did, your hand smacked over your mouth. Lindsay just stood up and smiled at you.

“I know.” She said, winking at you and then leaving the room, closing the door behind her to leave you alone with your thoughts for a little bit longer before you finally drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you texted Trevor ‘good morning’ in the morning, right after you texted your mom, and he had responded immediately, saying that he was almost back in town. By the time Jeremy and Gavin had arrived at the store – around eleven – you had begun to get anxious. You had just met Trevor a little over a week ago, now, and then he was gone for a little over three days, and you had just told Lindsay you thought he was cute which was pretty much a confession of love – what if you had imagined it all? What if you were just perceiving the situation (that Trevor was nice and cute and liked your company) the way you were because that’s what you wanted?

You were so wrapped up in your own harrowing freight-train of thought that Gavin had to tug on your shirtsleeve because you were hovering a couple inches off the ground.

“Trevor just got back, he texted me,” Jeremy told you at lunch – today Blaine’s mom had come by and brought enough wings for about twenty people, “he told me to tell you. He has to debrief with Geoff and Lindsay, said he’ll be over soon as he can.” This new information just made you more anxious.

Jeremy must’ve noticed (hell, probably even Blaine noticed and you have to literally hit him on the head to get him to be even the slightest bit observant), because even though you knew he was only about halfway through the important parts of More than Just a Pretty Voice: All About Sirens, but after lunch he had pulled out The Ultimate Guide to Fae: Seelie Edition and began to read from it, instead, probing you with questions every ten minutes or so.

“You’re allergic to iron?” Jeremy nearly shouted in disbelief, shoving his book under your nose. The two of you were on the second floor, Blaine manning the register for a while, because there were quite a few non-human customers that had been asking for assistance and while Blaine stocked the shelves and cleaned the place as much as you did, he didn’t know what books were best for specific needs and types of information.

“Ah, I see you’ve reached the ‘weaknesses’ subsection of the Characteristics chapter,” You said lightly, nodding as you spoke, “yes, Jeremy, I’m allergic to iron. There’s none in my blood, that’s why my blood is blue, because there’s no iron to interact with the oxygen.”

“How do you live? There’s iron everywhere! Silver is easier to get around, and it’s not like I can’t touch it, it doesn’t burn me, but iron?” Jeremy was on the edge of his seat, literally, talking a mile a minute.

“It’s not that hard to get around, Jeremy. And it’s okay if I touch it, it just makes me itchy, like poison ivy or a bug bite.” You explained patiently.

“Damn. Still, though. Does that mean you can’t eat food with iron in it?” He asked.

You shook your head, “When you’re around while I’m eating, does it look like I have dietary restrictions? My body just doesn’t absorb it, it goes right through me, so to speak. I’m sure I’d develop a stomach ache if I only ate iron-rich foods all the time, but for the most part, it just does the same thing as everything else your body can’t process: come out the other end.”

Jeremy made a face at that, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden turn for the worst his interest had taken. He settled back down for a little bit after that, falling silent for a little bit while you helped a customer decide between phoenix books about puberty and adolescence for their son. Once you were done, however, Jeremy was piping up again.

“What kind of wings do you have? Sorry if that’s a rude question, haven’t gotten to the etiquette part yet.”

“Leafy, the long thin kind, not the fat oak- or maple-looking kind.” You responded, knowing exactly what chart he was currently looking at.

“Like this?” He asked, pointing, and sure enough, a drawing of a set of wings that looked a lot like yours was right under his finger. Both the forewing and the hindwing were rather thin in width, the hindwing having a squiggly sort of “leafy” edge to it. The forewings had straighter lines but still rounded at the top and the outer margin had a little bit of a wave to it, like the hindwing. And, true to the wings you knew were on your back but currently invisible, the ones in the book were semi-opaque, glossy, and opalescent in color.

“Yup, just like that. Not exact – wings are like fingerprints – but basically the same.” You agreed before grabbing a duster and cleaning off some shelves to keep yourself busy. Trevor hung in the back of your mind the whole time.

By the time dinner rolled around, you were less anxious about your brain “inflating” Trevor, so to speak, and more anxious (or was it disappointed?) about whether he was going to be there at all. Dinner was leftover wings from lunch, which Blaine had to walk across the street to his apartment to heat up. You didn’t even bother lifting your head from the book you were only half-reading when you heard the door open and the bell chime. Jeremy, however, basically jumped out of his chair, and that combined with Blaine’s call of “Guess who I found?” forced your curiosity to get the better of you.

Lifting your head, you were just in time to see Trevor appear from between the aisles of books. He looked a little worse for wear, with dark shadows under his eyes and a bit of a hunch to his shoulders, and you wondered just how much sleep he’d gotten (you knew vampires didn’t need that much sleep, but they still needed, yanno, sleep).

Beyond the part of you that was suddenly much more concerned about exactly what stuff Trevor had been doing for Geoff more than you had been previously, was the part that was getting all flustered and butterfly-filled from seeing Trevor again.

“Hey, guys!” Trevor said, smiling wide, but the corners were tight. You refrained from using your Sight to see if he needed to feed, because that felt intrusive and you weren’t sure if you could hold back a comment about it.

“Hey, [Y/N]. How are you?” Trevor asked, fingertips resting on the countertop.

“I’m okay, how are you?” You countered, setting your elbows on the counter and resting your head on your hands. You were vaguely aware that Jeremy, Gavin, and Blaine were still there, but they seemed to be talking to each other so you felt a little less bad about ignoring them in favor of talking to Trevor.

“I’m tired, if I’m honest, but I’m okay.” He assured you, tilting his head a little. You spent a couple minutes staring at each other before Gavin dropped a plate full of wings between the two of you.

“Eat up, now, c’mon.” He said, gently shoving both of you one the arm.

You giggled and grabbed a wing, glancing at Trevor, who did the same.

“[Y/N], I’ll close up tonight, go home.” Blaine said a couple hours later.

“Yeah, get going, you kids. We’ve got this.” Jeremy added before you could protest, pointing his finger back and forth at you and Trevor.

You both put up a protest, but Trevor’s was half-hearted and tired and you, honestly, knew that Blaine was more than capable of closing up – he’d done it dozens upon dozens of times, before, so you didn’t really have a solid argument.

“Just tell me when you’re done and home safe, alright?” You asked Blaine, glancing over at Gavin and Jeremy, too, for good measure. Blaine gave a salute, contorting his face into a ridiculous expression.

“Yes ma’am!” He said, and you giggled, grabbing your things and following Trevor out the door.

One relatively quiet drive later, and you and Trevor were standing in your kitchen, Trevor on his phone while you fed Gus. You looked up and, unable to resist any longer, you blinked a little bit and focused. Sure enough, Trevor’s aura had darkened considerably, the edges being almost black.

That was not good.

You couldn’t help but be a bit angry at Geoff – if Trevor had been in a meeting with Geoff before coming down to Books and More Books, Geoff surely would’ve noticed, and should have felt obligated to make Trevor feed before sending him over.

“Okay,” You said, sighing as you leaned against the counter and capped the fish food container, “what do you prefer?”

“Hmm?” Trevor asked, instantly looking up from his phone and setting it on the table when you spoke.

“What do you prefer? I have the Sight, Trevor. I don’t want to pry into your life, but what I See is concerning.” You watched as Trevor’s smile dropped as you spoke, and your stomach turned to lead. Did you step too far?

“I don’t – it’s hard when it’s cold.” Trevor admitted, finally, bowing his head and then glancing up at you through his lashes, and you instantly felt a little better.

Okay, didn’t step too far.

“There’s a bar a couple blocks away. Mica – she’s my friend – is friends with the owner. They can do fresh and warm.” You purposely left out the word – blood – because Trevor left it out, and you felt like something was new here, like the two of you were treading on thin ice, and you ignored that the obvious response to that metaphor was for you to use your wings and float away.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea if we go to a Blood Bar. Because I’m not leaving you alone, and it’s not a good idea for you to go to a Blood Bar.” Trevor gazed at you, something a little thick in his voice, and you shook your head.

“That’s not a problem. Let me just call Mica, yeah? They deliver. Or, at least, they will if she asks them to.�� You insisted, resisting the urge to slide your hands across the table to cover his own, or place a hand on his arm, or anything, because although Trevor was still Trevor, he was hungry, and while you knew that without any iron, the blood in your veins did little to nothing for vampires, and while deep down, you knew Trevor wouldn’t hurt you, the way Trevor was standing – shoulders hunch forward, back bent, head low, elbows locked – made you think that Trevor wasn’t sure if Trevor wouldn’t hurt you.

A phone call and about twenty minutes later, and Mica herself was buzzed in and standing on your doorstep. Trevor darted for the door before you could even get up off the couch, and while he didn’t hide you like Michael and Ryan would, he was very clearly, very purposely in the way of anyone who may be on the other side of the door.

“Hey there! You must be the famous Trevor. I’m Mica, here’s your stuff, hot off the press.” She handed an insulated lunch bag to Trevor, who took it from her with a nod.

“Nice to meet you too.” He said, offering a smile. Mica craned her neck around his lanky frame and threw up finger guns in your direction.

“Hey [Y/N], Kovic says hi!” She said to you, and you scoffed a little, but not in a necessarily bad way.

“Thanks for helping, Mica. This was the easiest solution, so I appreciate you pausing whatever you were doing for us.” You couldn’t not notice the way that Trevor stiffened a little at the word “us,” but tried to ignore it.

“Anything for you, girl, you know.” She said, saying her goodbyes and striding back down the hall with a wave. As soon as the door was closed and locked, Trevor took three long strides into the kitchen.

“Do you –” You cut yourself off, then started again, and you could hear how timid you sounded, “Do you want me to leave?”

Trevor whipped up to look at you, eyes wide, “Oh, [Y/N], if it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to stay, you can go to bed, I don’t mind.”

“Well I don’t mind, it’s not uncomfortable, I just wasn’t sure if it – I don’t know, I know some people are weird about it. I didn’t know if you were…particular, or whatever.” You reassured, following him into the kitchen and placing a hand on the counter, again resisting the urge to reach out and physically touch him to try and provide comfort, for as much as you wanted to, you were too worried about him, about making sure he was okay, to try anything new or different.

“Okay. Why don’t I put some of this in a mug and then we can watch some TV or something?” Trevor offered, smiling uncertainly at you, which you immediately responded with a beaming grin of your own.

The whole thing made you feel weird, and as you walked over to the couch and settled down, logging into Netflix, you couldn’t help but realize that you weren’t afraid of Trevor, however much your instincts were sort-of, kind-of telling you that you should. Trevor was settling beside you a few moments later, and while the smell of blood wasn’t your favorite, you made painfully sure not to let it show, and when you could see the tips of little white fangs poking out over Trevor’s bottom lip as he took a sip, you didn’t stare, instead just shifting your gaze over to the television, where you were debating what kind of show you wanted to watch. You ultimately decided on a home-buying show, confident that the ability to make fun of and/or yell at the people on the show would dissolve the weirdness in the room. And it did, episodes passed, Trevor got up to wash out his mug and came back with two steaming cups of tea (you took yours gratefully), and sooner than you would’ve liked, you could feel your eyes drooping. It didn’t help that now that Trevor had fed, he was a nice just-below-room-temperature, and every time your shoulders brushed or your knees knocked together felt really, really nice on your skin, especially after hanging out near Jeremy all day, who radiated heat like a campfire.

“Getting sleepy?” Trevor asked quietly, a hint of teasing in his voice, and you scrunched your eyes shut for a second and rubbed them to try to gain focus back.

“Nah.” You lied, but it was punctured by a yawn, making both you and Trevor laugh.

“C’mon, we should go to bed, it’s late.” Trevor insisted, pushing gently at your shoulder, and you squashed down the little flutter in your heart at the way Trevor said we instead of you.

You begrudgingly rose to your feet, “Fine, fine. I changed the sheets on the air mattress this morning, but if you need extra blankets, they’re in the closet in the hall, and you can take pillows from the couch and the chairs if you need more of those.” You told him as you half-walked, half-floated to your room, Trevor’s cool hands on your shoulders pushing you along.

“Got it, thanks, [Y/N]. Goodnight.” He said, smiling at you and shutting your bedroom door behind him. You quickly changed and flopped down on your bed, asleep the moment your head hit your pillow.

[minorillusions]

Man and Machine

Geoff didn’t want anything more than a quiet life after the great AI conflict. It’s a shame that he and his crew are about to find a little more than they bargained for on a supposedly routine scrapping run.

Part 1

Warning: Crude language

In the vastness of space, in the spaces between stars, a ship rockets though the void, undisturbed. The stars do not mind it’s passing, the planets do not notice it go by. Billions of tiny lights wink in the distance, the product of explosions larger than the mind could comprehend. Truly, the universe is a vast and wild expanse. Looking out the window of the tiny ship, driving restlessly through the dark abyss, stood a man. The man gazed at the galaxies outside, turning a thought over and over in his head.

Space was fucking boring.

He rubbed his chin, wondering why the company had even bothered to install windows on this ship. He hadn’t needed to be reminded of the vast expanse of space every waking moment. The man took a sip of cold coffee, rubbing his tattooed arm and muttering under his breath about the waste in perfectly good glass.

The ship’s intercom crackled to life with an ear-piercing whistle and a man’s voice blared out into the dim cafeteria “Geoff, where are you? We are beginning our approach now; you’re needed on the bridge.”

With a groan, he sat up, pressing a button on his wrist contact and holding it closer to his mouth. “I’m coming, Jack. Did you have to announce it to the whole ship?” He set down his coffee with a crack onto the counter next to him and stood stretching for a moment. “A man can’t even enjoy his morning coffee in peace”

A beep came from his earpiece, then Jack’s voice rang in his head as headed for the door, striding down the dingy corridor. “It’s one in the afternoon, earth-time, the rest of the ship’s been up for hours. And that’s the third time I’ve called you, don’t blame me if your contact is on mute. This is important.”

“It’s a job.” Geoff quipped back, irked by his chief officer’s attitude. “I’m on my way.”

Upon arrival to the ship’s underbelly, Geoff was greeted by the sight of half the crew milling around, watching on the big screen as the ship approached her target. A heavily damaged freighter took up most of the view, pockmarked with debris. Trevor was at the hull, skillfully navigating through the array of junk that lay suspended between the Huntress and the wreck. The man muttered, elbowing his way to the front of the bridge.

Jack stood by the main screen, checking numbers off Lindsay’s station computer. When he saw Geoff enter, he motioned him over to have a look.

“The distress signal’s weak, but she was right: it’s still there.” He motioned vaguely to the computer. “Do we have a backup plan?”

Geoff swore under his breath. “Company told me that the government lost track of this ship three months after the crash, almost a decade ago. Jones, why the fuck are we hearing this signal now?”

The read haired woman was intent in studying her screen. “The remaining beacons show that the strength of the signal was drastically cut after those months. If this is the same signal, it wouldn’t have been powerful enough to broadcast that far. Something modified it after the crash.” She turned to look at the captain. “It’s possible something – or someone – survived.”

Geoff swore again, running a hand through his hair. After a moment’s silence, he realized that the rest of the crew behind him had stopped murmuring and were looking at Jack, Lindsay, and himself.

He sighed and turned to Jack. “Go standard docking procedure. If it’s the class M that was on the portfolio, we should be close to its ship bay anyways. I’ll take a small crew and check to see if there’s anything inside before we start scrapping.” He didn’t wait for the bearded man to nod before he turned towards the gathered crew, peering for faces he knew would be there. “Michael! Jeremy! Get dressed and pack some rounds. We don’t want any nasty surprises. Gavin, I want you along too.” He added, as he noticed a blond, hawk nosed man trying to sneak out of the room.

Gavin threw up his hands and turned around to face the captain, a sour expression on his face. “Why me? Why not Andy?”

“Because Andy didn’t give anyone first degree burns last week.” Geoff shot back angrily. He looked back to his chief officer. “You, Lindsay, and Steffie are to keep this place in order while we’re gone, okay?”

Jack nodded, “We’ll keep you informed as soon as we know more about the ship. Matt’s pulling up some drawings from the archives now.”

Geoff was already striding from the room, collecting glances as he went. Goddamn crew members; he’d never had to deal with so many people before. At just under thirty it was starting to feel a little too much like a circus. While he was grateful to be out from under the eyes of the government, he almost wished for the military discipline that came with it. Some people would certainly benefit from it.

Thirty minutes later, he and his away crew were assembled by the docking bay doors. All four of them wore the standard, clunky pressure suits. Despite the official Company report detailing a sealed interior, Jack and Geoff had both agreed the extra precaution was worth the risk for the hydrogen cells they could recover. In a pinch, the suits would provide them with several minutes of oxygen and would serve as rudimentary protection from the sharp scrap of the ship. Jeremy had dyed his a horrifying mixture of purple and orange to prevent anyone else from stealing it. He stood relaxed to Geoff left, bouncing a little on his toes as they waited to see if the ship’s docking bay had airflow. Michael too, seemed relaxed, holding his gun loosely, and making faces at Gavin, who was sullenly hovering behind the bunch.

“I’m still not happy with this” the blond man complained, fiddling with the controls on his suit. “I don’t even know how to scout”

“It’s easy” Jeremy said, turning around. “First, you yell real loudly to see if anyone’s there. Then, when someone says yes…” he mimed firing his gun like a shot gun at the far wall, complete with his own gunfire noises.

Gavin squirmed as Michael let off a loud laugh. “Yeah, I hate scouting too, all this blood and viscera on my nice pressure suit.” he smirked, throwing his sleeve up to the British man. On the arm of his suit, there was a dark, chunky stain that Geoff knew to be rust and oil from a previous scrapping run.

“Quiet” Geoff muttered halfheartedly as Gavin gagged, pushing Michael’s arm away from his face. “I think I heard the air lock”

A few seconds later an alarm sounded, letting the crew know that they were locked into an airtight port. Still grinning, Michael pushed the release button on the door.

The bay they stepped into was massive; several stories tall and large enough to hold their entire vessel inside. Through the darkness, Geoff could make out shipping containers sitting open, and various scrap laying in disorganized heaps all over the floor. Several of the containers lay on their side, covered with dust and material thrown from the ceiling. A large, yawning doorway lay open on the opposite side, leading further into the ship. Gavin dutifully clicked on his suit’s chest lamp and started forward. Jeremy wasn’t far behind, checking the atmospheric readings on his wrist contact.

“21% oxygen, no sign of dangerous gasses or radiation. Gravity appears to be functioning too. We good to remove masks, el Capitan?”

Geoff made an affirmative grunting noise, unlatching his own and turning on his suit’s light. Carefully, the four made their way to the corridor, stepping over tangles of wire and scrap.

“What the fuck do you think happened here?” Michael said, shining his light onto an I beam that was twisted almost beyond recognition. “Dinosaur attack?”

“Nah, no tracks.” Jeremy responded, looking down at the ground. “In fact, no tracks at all.” With a scuff of his shoe, he released a thick layer of dust. “No one’s been doing the house keeping” He turned to Geoff, who was already peering around the bay’s interior doorway to the corridor beyond. “Are we sure Lindsay’s right about that signal?”

“She hasn’t been wrong yet.” Geoff said, stepping into the hallway. His light bounced off the dull interior, highlighting a collapsed section of ship in one direction. “There’s a reason the company hired her.” Touching his wrist, he brought his contact closer to his mouth. “What am I looking at here, Jack?”

“It looks like a load of rubble” Jack crackled loudly through the team’s ear pieces. Geoff rolled his eyes as the chief officer continued.

“Beyond there is the collapsed section of the ship. Most of that is open to space, so try not to break it. This side of the hull is the only section that made it through the crash, so if there is someone still setting off that signal, they’ll be here.” After a second, light shown out of the end of Geoff contact, and he angled it onto a wall. The flat surface revealed a basic layout of the ship where several sections had been scribbled over in red. “This is a map Matt made for you, using the old schematic we were given. He thinks he’s got the open corridors right, but we can’t be sure until we explore. He specifically wanted you to check out the large room on the other end, said it had separate climate controls that someone desperate might have sealed off. Other than that, he wanted to say good luck in fighting the aliens.”

“Roger that.” Geoff said mildly. “It’s only a few holes down. We’ll check back in when we get closer.” With that he cut the communication. As an afterthought, he kept the map up to examine it, trying to memorize the paths within.

Gavin crouched closer to the wall, examining the image. “Aliens, Matt’s mental. Do you think any of them would want to live here?” Gavin went to trace the map with a finger, and then jolted upright as if he’d been hit by something.

“What?” Geoff asked, watching. Gavin began to attack the wall, his fingers prying at the paneling.

“Have you lost your mind?” Michael asked, folding his arms and watching the lanky man struggle. After a minute, the panel pulled off the wall with a bang, exposing switches and wiring. Gavin reached his arm inside, fishing around.

Geoff turned off the map as Michael turned to Jeremy, who shrugged. The three of them watched as Gavin extracted a long cable from the insides of the ship. After fiddling with it for a moment, he tied it to another, and a dim light above them hallway flickered on. Slowly, other lights came to life further down the hallway, like a great sleeping monster opening its eyes. The lights were old and dim, but they were enough that Geoff could see Gavin grinning like an idiot, holding up his creation.

“Found the emergency lights!” he said, scrambling to his feet. “Figured with the gravity still on, this old clunker still had a bit of juice.” He dusted off his hands, then turned off his suit lamp. Geoff shook his head and motioned for the rest of the crew to turn off their lights as well. No sense in wasting precious battery life. He started down the hallway, counting doorways. His hired henchmen followed behind, Gavin still struck with a stupid smile.  

Eight hallways over and half an hour later, they came to a heavy metal door that Geoff was certain marked the big room. He had forgotten how vast the freight carriers were, and Jeremy had insisted on checking every open room in between for signs of life. They had gone through most of the underbelly of the ship, but the upper levels were untouched. Matt had warned them through Jack that they might not be as well sealed as the lower half. Considering that the underside was the most likely to support life, the entire ship was remarkably undisturbed. The only sounds were the footsteps of the salvage crew and the footprints they left behind in the dust.

“This is it, lads.” Geoff said, scanning the door for Jack back on the Huntress. He tapped on his contact, trying to instruct the ship’s crew to get ready to salvage. “After this, we can call it a day. Maybe go back and get some lunch.”

Gavin groaned and sank down against a wall. “It had bloody better be, my feet are killing me.”

Jeremy walked up and rapped politely on the door. When there was no response from the other side, he tried the handle, confirming it was locked. Jeremy looked back at the crew, then turned and put all his weight into it; leaning back and straining. A minute of struggle passed before he relented, panting. “I think it’s locked.” He said, leaning against the wall.

“No shit.” Michael said with a grin, hefting his weapon onto his shoulder. “Move.”

A hot blast of plasma erupted past Jeremy’s surprised head before Geoff could protest. It impacted with such a force that the ship foundations shook, its metal walls groaning under the abuse. Michael was thrown backwards by the recoil as Jeremy threw himself to one side, shielding his face from the heat with his arms. For a minute, they were all deafened as the roar of the gun echoed down the hallway. Then, with a quiet metallic ping and a great cloud of dust, the door fell off its hinges.

Gavin gave a nervous laugh as Geoff stormed up to Michael and grabbed the weapon from his hands. “What the fuck, Jones?” He coughed, getting up in the man’s face. “That was dangerous!”

Michael raised his hands in an innocent gesture, coughing a bit himself from the acrid metallic smell that hung in the air.

“You could have killed us! You could have killed whoever was inside!” Geoff continued, as Michael began to defend himself.

Jeremy walked carefully up to the doorway as they argued, peeking his head around the smoldering frame. “Well, it’s good that no one’s in here then.”

After a last glare at Michael, Geoff followed the purple and orange suited man into the room, gripping Michael’s weapon in an angry fist. The chamber was nearly packed with wires, plastic enclosures, and screens displayed on high ceilinged walls. Every cable and wire connecting the various pieces wound into a waist-high cylinder in the center of the room. A red emergency light flickered overhead, dimly contrasted by the lights from the hallway. On the far wall, warning lights flashed on several unbroken screens.

It appeared to be the computer hub of the ship, maybe even the communications hub. Whatever it’s purpose, the technology was years behind even the Huntress. Still scrapable and still a find. This was a good room to hit on their return trip. Stepping carefully over the dusty wires on the floor, Geoff stomped his way over to the screen. One of the warnings read “DANGER: Low Battery Power” while the other informed him that the door had been disconnected. He tapped on the screen, but had no response. The computer system had been off for years, why was there still a display?

Gavin stuck his head into the room. “No one here? Does that mean we can go back to the ship?”

He waltzed inside, nearly tripping himself on the tangled floor. In avoiding one stack of wires, his feet found a box of hardware next to the display wall. Geoff turned to see the tall man yelp, grabbing at the center terminal to steady himself. The second his fingers touched the top of the terminal, Gavin gasped in shock, going still.

“Gavin?” Michael asked, taking a step forward. The emergency lights began to dim as Gavin stood frozen at the terminal. Then, without even so much as a warning, he collapsed onto the floor.

“Gavin!” Geoff shouted as he lurched forward. The lights from the hallway cut out as he stepped towards the man, and he stumbled, suddenly blind.

A dozen alarms in the room began blaring. Geoff dropped Michael’s weapon, fumbling for his suit light. Every screen in the room blazed to life, filling with strings of code before becoming displays of numbers and figures. In the half light of the computers, he found Gavin with his foot and knelt. He was just able to see Michael picking his way around the doorway, bewildered.

A great whirring began from the center terminal, a sound that froze the captain in his tracks. It sounded like decades old plasma cannons warming to life. Jeremy stepped forward, panicked, trying to find his way back through the mess to the door. The sound quickly grew, deafening even the alarms.

“Get out!” Geoff shouted to Jeremy, grabbing Gavin’s shoulder, shaking him. “That’s not friendly! Let’s go!” Jeremy didn’t seem to be able to hear him, and stood dumbfounded between the doorway and his companion on the ground. The whirring behind them intensified, ascending to a deafening tonal roar.

Geoff opened his mouth to shout again, preparing to lift Gavin off the floor, when everything stopped. The alarm sounds dimmed as they shut off, one by one, and the vibration at the center of the room became a low, steady hum. A red light blinked on slowly in the center of the pedestal. Geoff froze, wondering if the weapon’s system had finished its activation.

For a second, the room was still. Then with a loud click, a smaller segment burst from the column, a half circle, filled with the same blinking red light. Jeremy quickly drew his weapon, leveling it at the column. The red light continued to blink, it’s rate slowly getting faster as the man looked over at Geoff and his fallen crewmate. Geoff saw his intention and dragged Gavin out of the line of fire. With his freehand Geoff covered his face, fully aware of Jeremy turning back to the pedestal.

With one eye, Jeremy took aim as the machine began to hum again, the red light blinking intensely. His finger danced on the trigger.

“STOP”

The shout filled the room, echoing down the corridor. Jeremy, gun still raised, looked around. Geoff had hoisted Gavin into a slouched position against one of the wall consoles, looking around before touching his ear piece.

“Jack?” He called. There was nothing but static on the other end. “Jack, we found a weapon and we need evacs now.”

The raised column continued humming away in the center, the red light continued to blink.

“Stop. Please. I mean you no harm.” The voice said again, low, quick, and trembling. “Please don’t shoot.” It seemed to come from all directions at once, as if someone was speaking on an intercom system.

Jeremy lowered his weapon, confused. There was an audible sigh. “Thank you.”

“Who is this? Jack?” Geoff pressed his earpiece, but there was only static on the other end of the line. “What happened?”

“He restarted the communications display.” The surrounding voice said, more slowly this time. “I don’t know how, but it’s working again. I haven’t spoken to anyone in years, please don’t shoot it” The voice seemed to be coming from a slightly distorted speaker hanging on one wall, along with a dusty camera lens peering into the room. “My name’s Ryan – did - did you hear the signal? Are you here to rescue me?”

There was silence in the room as the crew all looked at each other. Geoff ran his hand through his hair, letting out the breath he was holding. His heart still pounding at the near annihilation he thought he was facing moments prior, his mind was having issues comprehending the situation. This wasn’t supposed to be a rescue mission, he thought, looking around at his crew. Lindsay had assured him that the signal had been a fault, that this scrap mission would be an in and out. He wondered what this man had done to survive over a decade in a broken ship. Gavin moaned against the wall, coming to.

“Hello?” The voice came again, the old intercom crackling. His voice sounded so hopeful, and so desperate.

“Ryan, this is Geoff Ramsey, captain of the Huntress docked in your bay.” Geoff said, making a split decision. “We heard your signal earlier, and we came here to find you.”

Not knowing where to look, he said to the red light on the pedestal, ignoring the incredulous look on Michael’s face. “Can you direct us to your location from here?”  

He motioned to Jeremy, and the man helped him support Gavin between them, standing him up. Gavin tried to protest, but his face was pale. He looked too weak to stand on his own, his arms hanging listlessly at his sides.

“I can.” Ryan said with a shaky sort of confidence. “Thank you, thank you so much. You don’t know how happy I am to talk to someone again.”

“Save your breath until after we get you out” Geoff mumbled, looking around at the dilapidated room while half carrying, half dragging Gavin to the doorway.  “One of our crewmates was injured when your communications array can back on - we’re going to help him back to our ship and take one of our medics to locate you. We might be out of contact for a little bit, but we will be back to find you.”

This is crazy. Geoff thought, kicking Michael’s weapon over to him with a warning in his eye. At least his crew should be prepared for this to go south.

Don’t do anything stupid, he mouthed at the curly haired man. Michael grinned, picking up the plasma rifle and mock saluting. Geoff rolled his eyes.

“If you have any technical skill, I can probably talk you through attaching any of your communicator devices to the hub.” Ryan proposed eagerly, “I’d prefer not to lose contact; you’re the first voices I’ve heard in a long time.”

Geoff huffed at this, but Jeremy perked up. “I can help with that; I was a technical engineer not too long ago.” He looked up at the captain, who sighed and nodded, shouldering most of Gavin’s weight as the colorful man ducked back into the room. Michael quickly buckled his weapon across his back and went to help Geoff carry Gavin down the hallway.

Jeremy was already too busy to watch them go, pulling off his wrist contact and following Ryan’s instructions to mount it onto an input panels across the room. After many long minutes of cursing and finagling, he successfully hooked his contact to the panel. Jeremy stood back, admiring his work, when Ryan’s voice came in through his ear piece.  “Nice work! I’ve gotten contact with your ships computer now, sorry about destroying your tech.”

“Aw, it’s nothing.” Jeremy waved a hand, still looking proudly at the wall. “I haven’t worked with such old technology in ages, it’s surprising it survived all this time.” He rubbed his now bare wrist absent mindedly. “Besides, there are more spare contacts back at the ship I can use.”

“Your basic communications are fascinating.” Ryan said, awed. “How long has it been since this ship crashed?”

Jeremy faded a bit. “Geoff said it’s been about 12 years since anyone’s been here.” Ryan was quiet, so he continued. “Have you been alone all of this time?”

“Yes.” The simple reply had a weight to it. Jeremy changed the subject.

“Where are you from? Colony, I mean.”

“No colony, I’m from Earth.”

“Oh wow, really? It’s rare to meet someone from Terra Firma these days.” Jeremy went over and sat on the pedestal, tapping at the red light there. “Got anyone swinging for you back home? I just got hitched last summer, before coming all the way out here.” He smiled absentmindedly at the ring on his finger, wondering where Kat was at this moment.

Ryan sighed. “I had a wife, and three beautiful children back on Earth. It’s not something I try to think about.”

“Jeremy!” A call down the hallway had him running for the door, only to peek out and see Geoff and Michael, returning alongside a woman with long, brown hair.

“Over here, Meg!” He waved an arm, and then explained to Ryan in his earpiece. “She’s a biologist, but the closest to a doctor we’ve got on this hunk of junk. I hope you’re not injured.”

“I hope I’m not either.” Ryan joked. Jeremy didn’t have time to respond before Geoff was back, setting down a box of scrappers tools.

“Alright, let’s make this quick. With these, I’ve got access everywhere. Pliers, hammers, explosives…” he counted on his fingers. “… well, in any case, we’ve got it.” He looked down at the pedestal, where he assumed there was some sort of microphone. “You still with us, Ryan?”

“Yeah” he replied, directly into Geoff’s earpiece. Geoff jumped, startled, causing Jeremy to break into giggles.

“You little shit.” Geoff mouthed, turning back to the center of the room. “Nice to see you guys got some work done.”

“We can hear him too, Geoff.” Jack’s voice said in his ear. It did sound a lot like Ryan’s. “We’ve got the whole ship working on this too. We’ll find him.”

“Good” the captain said, “I want to get this job finished. Ryan, are you ready?”

“You bet. You’ll want to turn right outside of this room into the hall.”

For nearly an hour, they followed Ryan’s directions across all levels of the ship, trekking up and down hallways and working around crumbled, destroyed hallways. The rest of the hull was almost as damaged as the docking bay, and several times Jack had to navigate them around blockages or suggested other paths. Twice, they had to cross a space that had not been sealed properly, dealing with little oxygen and low gravity. Throughout everything, Ryan remained patient, though Geoff could hear something in his voice getting more anxious by the passing second.

Finally, after an hour and a half, he warned them that they were getting close.

“It’s just around this next corner. There’s a closed door, third on the left.” He said tersely. Geoff found the appropriate door, wiggling the handle.

“It’s locked.”

“I know. I figured with all your tools, you’d have some way to get it open” Ryan replied sarcastically, but his voice was nervous.

With a sigh, Geoff set to work. It wasn’t the first door they’d had to pick today, but he briefly wondered how the man had survived in a locked room for over a decade. It took him two long minutes and a set of sturdy pliers before he heard the inner lock give way. With a little shoulder muscle from Michael, he heard a crack as the mechanism broke. Unceremoniously, he shoved it open, stepping into the large space inside.

Geoff was disoriented for a split second, looking curiously around the room. When he realized why, he stood in the doorway, dumbfounded. Meg stepped up behind him to peer into the chamber.

“It’s the same room” she muttered, confused.

She stepped past Geoff inside, looking around. The door on the other side of the room stood open, blown from its hinges. The same wires and cables snaked around the room to the pillar in the middle, a red light blinking on top. Unlike the rest of the freighter, footprints and scuffs disturbed the dust on the floor. Michael lifted his foot and checked the sole of his suit to match them, confirming they were the same prints from earlier. Jeremy walked across the room, examining his contact still wired into an input panel along one wall.

“Ryan, is this the right place?” he asked, looking again at the mess of computer parts strewn haphazardly.

There was no response from his earpiece. Meg tried again, holding her mouth closer to her wrist, thinking that perhaps he couldn’t hear them over the low hum of the communications array. “Ryan, are you alright? It’s possible you got confused, we had to turn around quite a bit, and you’ve been alone here for a while…”

“It’s the right place.” Came the short response.

Jeremy looked around, just as befuddled as the rest of the crew. “But we were just here, Ryan. Unless you’re a ghost, this isn’t can’t be where you’ve been hiding” His joke fell flat in the room as Geoff opened his mouth to argue with the man on the speaker.

Ryan stopped him before he could make any sound. “Look inside the communications tower”

Everyone stood around, unsure. “The tower?” Meg tried to confirm, examining the smooth pillar in the center of the room. The small red dome on top still blinked in a slow, rhythmic fashion, matching the pulse of several other warning lights in the room. Ryan did not respond. Geoff radioed Jack, and they talked quietly as Michael walked around the room, his weapon held lightly in his hand.

No one spoke again until Jack broke through the rest of the crew’s earpieces, interrupting Geoff’s comment. “Can someone check the damn pedestal?”

Meg walked up to the cylinder, searching around the base. For a minute, there was nothing except cold plastic, then her fingers met the base of a small latch. She glanced over her shoulder at Geoff and the others, who watched silently. Carefully, she undid the latch and opened the pedestal.

Inside, the wires and cables that entered it from the base split, connecting the thousands of small ports. Metal boxes and electronic parts clung to the inner sides. Below all of this, a larger box covered in shielding sat. From inside of it, Meg could almost see lights pulsing. Geoff saw the confused expression on her face and walked over, looking over her shoulder at the tangle of parts.

“Are we missing something, Ryan? Is this some sort of prank?” He asked angrily into his earpiece. “Where are you?”

The silence in the room seemed to last a decade, before a small voice came over their earpieces.

“That is me.” Ryan said quietly. There was static again for a long moment. “In there.”

Geoff wracked his brain, trying to tie the concepts together. Was it a secret passageway? Some sort of door control? As he fumbled for an explanation, Meg gave a small gasp.

“You’re the ship’s AI” Meg breathed, suddenly recognizing the larger box inside the column. She brushed aside a few wires, trying to get a better look.

“Hey, don’t touch that!” Geoff swatted her hand away, looking furious. He looked around the room. “Come on Ryan, where are you really? I’m tired and hungry and I’d rather get moving on decommissioning this ship!”

“Ryan is a nickname. My designation is R-gamma-alpha-eta. I’ve been in hibernation for 11 years, 8 months, and 29 days, since the last crewmember on board perished, per your ships date.” Ryan continued. “I’m sorry to lead you around like that, but I needed to make sure I could trust you to not blow me apart. I can’t jump ship without my main hardware.”

“Like fuck you can!” Geoff spat, looking down at the pedestal. “If you’re an AI, you’re not going anywhere. AI are unpredictable and dangerous. If you think I’m… if you think we are taking an illegal software experiment off this junker you have another thing coming.” He opened his mouth to say more when Jeremy piped in from the back of the room.

“Ryan, you said you had a wife and kids. If you’re really a computer program, are they like, other computers? Little computerettes?” He made a motion with his hands to indicate smaller computer, looking into the camera in the corner of the room.

Ryan sighed. “It’s… difficult to explain without knowing the theory behind the LPC AI programs. I am based on a real person; his memories, his emotions. The Ryan I am based on had a family once, that I remember fondly.” The voice explained.

“Bullshit.” Geoff huffed, turning around. “It’s a computer, Jeremy, they don’t have emotions.” He looked at the rest of the team. “We’re leaving. For all I care about, this mission was a bust. I’ve had enough of listening to a hard drive with delusions of grandeur.” He walked over to Jeremy and grabbed the man’s weapon. “You should have been wiped a decade ago with the rest of them.”

He took a step towards the pedestal. The instant he started moving, all the lights in the ship dimmed, fading quickly to black. Every light on the displays flickered out, until the only pinpoint was the faint red glow inside the pedestal. All noise stopped, leaving only the faint hum of the tower.

The AI’s voice boomed into the silence. “Take me with you, Geoff.” It said into the darkness. “Your ship is the only chance I’ve got, and I can’t let you leave without at least a promise to think about it.” There was a small pause before Ryan’s voice continued. “I’m connected to your main computer, thanks to one of your crewmembers. You seem like nice people, and I wouldn’t want something unfortunate to happen to you and your crew.”

Geoff looked over to Jeremy in the dark with a look of disbelief as Jack burst through his earpiece a moment later. “Geoff, all of our lights and axillary systems are offline. Requesting status. Lindsay reports that the scrapping vessel is also dead in the water, though communications appear to function, please advise.”

He pushed his earpiece, speaking quickly. “We have a bit of a situation here, standby.”

Geoff disconnected as Meg spoke up. “You’re holding us hostage?”

“No, I’m not some sort of monster.” Ryan said, sounding offended. “I just want you to talk it over with your crew. They’re the ones that determine if I can hitch a ride or not. I want a chance to convince you that I’m not here to harm any of you, without anyone shooting me first.”

No one in the room made a sound. For several long seconds the only noise was the gentle hum of the hardware inside the tower. The voice made a deflated noise, almost like a sigh. “I’m not swaying you, am I?”

Slowly, the emergency lights flickered back into existence. Geoff stole a glance at his companions faces; some looking at the box in awe, others in fear. Meg was staring directly at him with narrowed eyes.  He didn’t know why, but her gaze unnerved him. He lowered his weapon slowly, thinking. Most of the crew would follow his lead on this – at least half had fought in the wars. And if the AI wasn’t lying, he could leave it here, and let the government take care of this mess. That thought appealed to him greatly. He turned to leave, sighing and activating his contact.

“Jack, make arrangements in the dining room, we need to have an emergency meeting.”

 The Huntress was not made for its entire crew to be seated in one room. Geoff turned the corner and found himself blocked by a wall of people that had jammed themselves into the doorway. With a grunt, he waited as Trevor and Andy pressed themselves against the wall to let him and his crew by. Geoff squeezed his way over to the kitchenette area as the talking in the room slowed, pouring himself the dregs of the slightly burned coffee. Steffie had to hand him the pot over the heads of the other engineers, looking bemused.

All eyes were on him as he shuffled over to the large table that had been pulled back from the wall. Michael had already taken the seat Lindsay had saved for him among the glares of everyone who had to stand, including Jeremy, who had been shoved behind some of the taller mechanics. Jack had saved a seat for Geoff as well, which he took gratefully, unscrewing a flask from inside his jacket and pouring a generous amount into his cup.

He took a long sip, savoring the expectant look of everyone in the room, before he cleared his throat and spoke.

“So. I’m assuming Jack briefed everyone who wasn’t listening in on the comms.” He shot a look to Lindsay, who shrugged. “We’ve got a rouge AI which wants on this ship. Jack wants me to remind everyone that it’s a complex learning AI, considered by some to be intelligent beings. I’d like remind you that harboring an LPC AI is a fucking stupid idea and all kinds of illegal.” Geoff sighed, leaning back in his chair and taking another drink. “The answer’s simple, but I’ve been told you all have a say in this. Speak up now or hold your peace, yada yada, I’d like to get going as fast as possible.”

“We’re letting him on board, right?” Steffi said, sounding bored. Geoff nearly spit out his third gulp of coffee.

“What? That thing nearly killed me!” a voice squawked before Geoff could speak. Looking around, he saw Gavin leaning heavily on the corner of the counter, assisted now as Meg made her way over to him. “No way we’re letting it on board!”

“Gavin’s right,” Michael spoke up, crossing his arms. “We’ve all seen what these AI’s can do in the last war. They’ve killed billions of people. There’s a reason why it’s illegal to harbor them, a reason why we’re actively trying to wipe them from existence– they’re just programs bred to kill.”

“They’re programs made to act like people” An engineer, Mica, chimed in, “I studied them at University, they’re coded to have personalities and emotions.” She looked back at Michael. “We still don’t know what caused them all to go berserk like that, but LPC’s aren’t supposed to do anything a person wouldn’t. You can’t blame one program for the killing sprees of another.”

“Sure I can” Michael huffed, “I’m probably the most qualified in the room to blame it, actually. It’s just a program.”

“Michael, you heard him in the ship; he’s got memories and stuff.” Jeremy said, elbowing his way to the table. “We can’t just leave him here.”

“You know what else people can do, Jeremy? Lie.” Michael retorted. “If we bring it on, and we do something it doesn’t like, what’s to stop it from just opening the airlock? Or overloading the engines? Or killing us slowly with our own…”

“I’d like to stop you there.” A voice said, bouncing around the room. Several people looked confusedly at Jack, who looked towards the speaker on the wall, amazed. Geoff groaned.

“Sorry for interrupting; you were being a little rude, and I just wanted to clear some things up.” It continued, “I’ve already promised not to harm anyone on board, but no one seems to have mentioned that. And I do, in fact, consider myself a person – thanks for asking.”

“Is this Ryan?” Trevor asked, looking up at the intercom on the wall.

“Yep! In the flesh. Well, in the speaker, I suppose.” He mumbled, the system crackling as if to confirm his words. “If anyone has any questions, I can answer them.”

“You weren’t invited to thi–“ Michael started, but Lindsay cut him off.

“What are you doing on my coms system?” she demanded. “Are you the one that cut off ship systems earlier?”

“Yes, and I’m wired in, so to speak.” Ryan answered, sounding startled. “One of your crewmates helped me attach his communication system to mine, so that we could speak more freely on my ship. it was really quite simple to work it the other way.” There was a pause as Geoff looked to Jeremy, who also shrugged.

The AI continued. “I promise, I haven’t damaged any of your equipment other than alter a few permissions. I just needed a chance to speak for myself, and your captain here had no intention of letting me do so earlier.”

Lindsay nodded, as if this made sense. Geoff pushed his chair back and stood up, hushing the murmurs that had broken across the room.

“Okay, Ryan, answer me this: Why are you so eager to get off this freighter?” He asked to the air.

“You’re a computer, you’ve been hibernating for years. You don’t need anything to live besides electricity, which you seem to have enough of. Why should we let you on the Huntress?”

Everyone looked at the ship’s speakers expectantly. It gave an obliging crackled before Ryan’s voice “I want off because I have other purposes I could complete, instead of sitting on this ship in boredom. You’re right, I don’t need to eat or sleep or breath, but I am a living mind. I need stimulation. I’d happily navigate star jumps for you, piece of cake. I can upgrade at least three of the weapons programs on your ship, and fix your automatic pilot which looks like it’s been broken for a while. Your engineering crew, I can teach them how to use fuel and increase the efficiency of their repairs.” The system paused, as if taking a breath.

“I don’t have infinite electricity, as you suggest. The battery I’m running on was meant to sustain the crew of this entire freighter for a week, and I’ve been slowly draining it for the past 10 years. I’m conserving the best I can, but even hibernation is a draw I can’t afford forever. It’s almost to the level that, if your crewmates hadn’t woken me, I likely wouldn’t have had enough to power up.” Ryan’s voice sounded desperate again, slightly pleading. Geoff opened his mouth to respond, but the AI wasn’t finished.

“You were ready to risk your lives to take me on as a human; Does the fact that I am made of circuits bother you so much that you would leave me out here to die?” No one in the room responded.

“Please don’t leave me here.” The intercom begged, “I promise I mean no harm.”

As the speaker fell quiet, the people in the room looked at each other. A few began to whisper under their breath. Geoff stared silently at the wall, grinding his teeth. He knew, deep down, that AI’s were dangerous. This wasn’t a risk they should be taking.

“I think we should let him on.” Jack said, breaking the tension in the room. Geoff spun in his chair, looking at his chief officer like he’d grown a third arm.

“Jack, this is a computer program.”

“And it needs our help.” Steffie spoke up, the engineering crew behind her nodding. “We’d be more than happy to work on those repairs he suggested. He would definitely help the salvage of the freighter.”

“But what about what Michael said?” Lindsay asked, looking at her husband. “He could still be dangerous.”

“I could do all those things right now.” Ryan said, almost miserably. “I could, but I won’t. I’m not a killer, despite what you all already think of me.”

Silence again took over the room. After a minute, Ryan’s voice came back over the speaker. “I guess I’ll leave you to your choices them.” He said, “I won’t argue against whatever you decide. Thank you for the attention, at least.”

With a snap, the static of the intercom cut off. Lindsay tapped on her contact for a second, then nodded. “He’s not listening any more, at least as far as I can tell.”

“What were you thinking?” Geoff asked, turning to his first mate. “I can’t believe that that thing is any more than an illegal, manipulative, decommissioned sack of scrap that could cost us our lives! It could cost us our jobs! This ship, this crew…”

Jack gave him a hard look. “That thing, whatever it is, whatever you think it could do, is still a person, and we can’t just leave him out here. Worst comes to worst, we can drop him at the station, or chuck his hardware into space.” He gave a half smile, then looked to the rest of the crew crowded into the room. “Besides, it’s not really just our say, is it?”

Jack turned, addressing the crew. “You’ve all heard him now, and I know that you all are aware of what an unchecked AI can do. Geoff and I agreed earlier to put it to a vote, because it’s all of your lives stake here.” He looked once more at Geoff, who nodded tiredly, looking down at his empty cup.

“If you want to leave him here, raise your hand.” Jack said, looking around the room. Michael, one of the only people onboard who had personally fought the last wave of AI weapons, raised his hand. So did Geoff, Gavin, and a few of the mechanics. Most people looked away.

“And if you want to let him onboard?” This time, over half the crew raised their arms. Almost the entirety of engineering was for, including, to Jack’s surprise, Meg. Gavin was staring at her in disbelief.

“It’s settled then.” Jack said. Geoff grumbled from the table. The red-haired man didn’t look down at the captain this time, knowing the orders that needed to be in place. “That means decommissioning starts tomorrow. Mechanics, make sure you have your scrapper tools, we don’t want to leave things behind this time. Engineering, make sure your teams are set up to receive and load.” He looked over the room, scanning for the three people he saw voting enthusiastically in the second round.

“Meg, Mica, Jeremy – I want you three to work with Ryan on getting his hardware on board. Make sure you don’t leave anything, but don’t hook him fully to the ship until we say so.” Mica grinned, giving him a thumbs up before turning to Steffie talking what Jack assumed to be business plans for tomorrow. Jeremy just nodded. Meg, however, was too intent on talking to Gavin to give any confirmation, helping support him as he limped from the room.

Slowly, the other people filtered out, talking about the new development or the hard job ahead of them. After a few minutes, only he and Geoff remained, Geoff absent mindedly tracing a tattoo on his arm. Jack took a chair next to him, leaning back and sighing.

“This could be very bad for us.” Geoff remarked under his breath. “I don’t trust it.”

Jack nodded slowly. “We could have just sealed our own fates, I know. I don’t like it either.” He sighed. “Someone needed to say it though. This AI seems stable enough.”

Geoff stood, moving to place his mug on the counter. “I may not trust this thing Jack, but I trust your judgement.” Looking over from the counter, he met his chief officers gaze. “I just hope I don’t regret it.”

“Alrighty!” Jeremy said, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s see what we’ve got!”

Decommissioning day started with a rush. Their small crew had divided up into teams which roamed the ship like termites, tearing off anything Geoff had marked valuable. Jack had enlisted Ryan’s help in determining dangerous zones of the still habitable portions of the ship. The halls were lively with the sounds of deconstruction. The communications array where Ryan was stored was the only relatively calm area, mostly separated from the engine room where the more valuable scrap was housed.

Jeremy, Mica, and Meg were confined to the small room, disassembling whatever parts Ryan deemed essential for function. Jeremy carefully lifted the lid off the cylinder again, looking gleefully inside the tower.

“Hey, make sure you don’t touch any of those yet.” Ryan’s voice instructed over his earpiece. “Some of those are pretty vital, and if we don’t do this right it could be damaging.”

“Relax” Mica said, yanking cables from a wall tower on the other side of the room. “I’m always careful.” She looked down at the wires in her hand. “What were these for, again?”

“Those are intercom communications throughout the eastern freighter. Considering that bit is floating somewhere in space, I figured they’d be safe to pull.” Ryan said. “And, honestly, if it was me disassembling your head from your shoulders, you’d be a little nervous too.”

Mica laughed, coiling up the disembodied wires over her arm. “Good thing my head’s pretty well attached.” She threw her coil into a growing pile in the blown off doorway, among a cluster of monitors and various other hardware segments. “Hey Meg, can they do that now?”

Meg nodded absent mindedly, tapping her contact. “I think, but if you’re asking me, I’m not really a medical professional.” She paused, then looked up. “Ryan, do you have any medical knowledge?”

“Not much more than basic diagnostics and first aid.” He said regretfully over their earpieces. “I wasn’t designed for medical analysis, though a few of us were. I mainly handle long distance navigation and simulation calculations, which is how I ended up here.”

Jeremy opened his mouth to ask any number of questions when Gavin stuck his head in the room, looking around. When he spotted Meg he grinned, stepping carefully over the growing scrap pile.

“You wanted these?” he said, waving some scraps of paper in the air. She frowned, standing up and taking them from him.

“Well this is archaic. Who prints things anymore?” She asked, flipping through the sheets.

Gavin shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. “Dunno, that’s just how Company gave them to Geoff. All the valuable parts we can pick up.” He looked around, spotting the open cylinder.

“So this is what you look like” he said to the air, stepping closer and peering into the pedestal. “Thought you’d be a bit bigger.” The glowing box inside was some sort of plastic, its light almost pulsing below the mess of tangled wires.

“I’ve heard it’s not the size that counts” Ryan said dryly into his earpiece. “Aren’t you the one that was injured, earlier?”

“Yeah” Gavin replied, taking a glance at the rest of the room. Mica was pulling up another bunch of cables, while Jeremy messed around with the displays on the other side of the room, pulling off panels. “I’m fine, though, thanks for asking.” He said, turning up and looking at the camera that was in the corner of the room.

“Look, I feel as if we got started on the wrong foot.” Ryan said, “I don’t know what happened when you woke me up, but you shouldn’t have been able to get hurt.”

“Hey Ryan, what about these?” Jeremy called over, hoisting up two large black boxes with cables running from them. They were each about the size of a briefcase, but they were heavy enough that the man had problems picking them up.

“Those are backup memory storage” The AI responded, “I’d like to keep them with me, in case this shutdown doesn’t go as planned.”

“You’re shutting down?” Gavin asked, leaning over again and examining the glowing box at the center of the tower. “Isn’t that like, dying?”

“Does your ship computer break every time you reboot it?” Ryan retorted, “As long as this main drive doesn’t physically break, I’ll be fine. That brick you see in there is most of what I consider myself. It takes almost four of those other drives to save my essential functions, and it would be impossible to run them.”

“But it’s the size of a coffee can!” Gavin said, leaning over and inspecting the square canister with more interest.

“So is your brain, and you don’t see me making snide comments.”

Jeremy finished dragging the two cases to the doorway, into a small separate pile they had made for Ryan’s hardware. It was pitifully small compared to the scrap pile, but Ryan had insisted that he didn’t need much to function properly. Gavin took a moment to inspect the various equipment, listening to Ryan instruct Jeremy in disassembling the display module, before he turned to go back to the Huntress. He was probably missed by the engineering crew – they were preparing the reactors for hauling the extra weight. He headed for the doorway, stepping carefully over Mica’s sorted treasures.

“Hey Gavin, can you do me a favor?” Ryan asked as he turned to go, “There’s some switches down the hall that need to be disconnected – can you grab those before you go back to the Huntress?”

Gavin shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure. Let me know if you need anything else in here, Meg” he said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pressure suit and heading into the hallway. The emergency lights had been hooked up to the Huntress, and they shone much brighter than they had from his quick fix. He smirked at the memory.

“It’s in the next closet, to your left.” The AI said in his ear. Gavin nearly missed the handle, the door blending perfectly into the wall of the freighter. He pulled it open, to what looked like an abandoned broom closet, complete with a mop that looked like it had mummified in the dark of the ship.

“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to close the door – the electric panel’s right behind it. It’s the active cable in there, just flick the switch and pull it out”

With a click, the door sealed shut, leaving Gavin in darkness. His fingers brushed the panel, finding a latch and popping it open. Without even thinking about it, he flicked the switch, pulling the cable out and began wrapping it’s length around his hand.

“How did they ever find anything in here?” he muttered, bumping against the decrepit mop in the corner. “It’s so bloody dark.”

“I could ask you the same question” Ryan said over his earpiece. Gavin grunted, and then froze as he realized what the computer was talking about.

“You know, it’s funny how you managed to pick out the one active wire from a bundle of thirty, and in a dark, unfamiliar room no less.” The voice continued smoothly as Gavin reached for the door, yanking on the handle. It didn’t budge, and suddenly he was very afraid.

“What do you want, Ryan?” he said in the dark, jiggling the handle in some vain hope it would open. He fumbled with his wrist contact in the dark. “Jeremy? Geoff? Can you hear me?” Panic was slowly rising in his voice.

“They can’t hear you, Gavin: I’ve cut off your signal. Don’t worry, they can’t hear what I’m saying either.” The AI’s voice still did not sound concerned. Gavin rested a hand on the old mop, grasping for some sort of weapon, though there was nothing to fight.

“What are you, Gavin? I’ve downloaded your information from the ships computer, and, interestingly enough, there’s nothing older than fifteen years back. No birthplace, no family; nothing. It’s like you appeared out of thin air as a teenager. And then,” Ryan continued, “there’s the matter of my hardware. No matter what I told the others, there was not enough charge left in the system to power me out of sleep mode. You’ve got me stumped, there.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything” Gavin blurted, pulling on the door. “Let me out!”

“Of course. But if I can’t get it from you, I’ll have to start asking around.” Ryan purred. “I’m sure Jeremy would be curious to know. Michael too. Maybe I’ll make an announcement to the whole deck. Someone on the Huntress has to know something.” The door latch under Gavin’s fingers popped open with a slight click. The door opened under his touch, spilling a thin ribbon of light into the room. “But go ahead, Gavin – you’re free to go.”

Gavin stood holding the door, his breath held in his throat. He made no move to leave, looking out into the hall though the crack in the door. Slowly, he let it out, resting his head gently against the wall next to the door. Light noises came from down the hallway as other scrappers moved about the ship. This was his home, these his friends; he trusted them by now, but he had to wait for the right time. And letting an AI manipulate his words was not the way they should find out.

“Narcine.” He said finally, under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Narcine.” He said again, moving his mouth closer to his contact. He gritted his teeth. “That’s where I’m from. The facility.”

A pre-recorded whistle noise echoed through his earpiece, long and low in the quiet of the freighter closet. “That explains quite a bit, actually. Magnetics? Electrochemical recharge?”

Gavin nodded, before realizing the AI couldn’t see him without a camera. “Yeah.”

“This Company had enough to buy one of you?” Ryan asked, curious.

Gavin stood up straight, fire in his eyes. He glared into the empty hallway, wishing he could see the damn computer. “I’m not a chair Ryan! People can’t ‘buy’ me, I go where I want to!” he said angrily, wrenching the door open. He paced down the hall, heading back to the communications room. “And if you say anything like that to the others, I’ll tell them you just trapped me and threatened me in an airtight room,” he hissed into his contact.

He stormed back into the communications room right as Mica finished her last section of the cables, beaming up from her work. He threw the cable he’d wound around his arm into her large pile, fuming.

“What’s got you in a tizzy?” Meg asked, looking up from her check list. Jeremy turned around from talking to Ryan about which drives to shut off, looking at the man confusedly.

“And why the hell do you have a dead cat on that stick?” Jeremy asked, gesturing to the old mop Gavin still clutched in one hand.

“It’s just – I just – ” Gavin sputtered before making several unintelligible noises. He looked over to Meg, then managed to get out “Just have other things to do” before dropping the mop and ducking back out of the room. Meg and Mica looked at each other as Jeremy bust out laughing.

“What was that?!” Jeremy giggled, looking at the petrified mop. Meg shook her head, half amused.

“I should probably go after him.” She said, laying the papers to the side. “Ryan, are you good without me here? We’ve all got your procedures for rebooting back on the ship.”

“We’ll be fine” the AI said. “That seems important.”

The camera only blinked as Meg excused herself.

“Mica, Jeremy, are you okay with the instructions I’ve given you for the rest of disassembly?” Ryan asked.

The two technical engineers in the room looked at each other as Jeremy mentally listed the rest of the steps, ticking off fingers. “I think so?” he replied. Mica nodded in confirmation.

“This part of the process is too risky to leave myself on for. I wouldn’t want to hurt you by accident, like the other day.”

Mica shuddered. “Yeah, okay. I’d be fine with that. I’m not really far of loosing consciousness today.”

“Okay. Don’t let me down.” Ryan paused, considering. “Or more specifically, drop me.”

Jeremy laughed, kicking the broom aside and standing. “We won’t let Geoff throw you out of an airlock for no reason. We should probably wait until the Borovian Port to reboot you though, just in case he gets any funny ideas.”

“Noted.” Ryan said over the earpiece. “I suppose I’ll talk to you soon.”

When there was no complaint from the other two, he began the internal shut down process. He started with his link to the Huntress communication systems, knowing they wouldn’t do him much good until he rebooted. Ryan carefully saved what knowledge he’d gained of Gavin to examine once he’d been fully moved. The man might prove more of an asset than he knew. The various lights and displays flickered off one by one, the emergency lights and the atmospheric controls already hooked to the Huntress for the rest of the scrapping run.

Not for the first time, the AI wondered if this is what humans felt like going to sleep; shutting off his thousands of cameras and sensors, only have the data within himself to rely on. He had memories of sleeping, of course – but they tended to be fuzzy around the edges sometimes, not all quite there. The first time he noticed it, he had assumed his source had been corrupted, but the real Ryan had assured him that humans always remembered things like that. Biological processes were so inefficient.

As his sub processes blinked off, Ryan left himself one more reminder for his reawakening; and old video file of his namesake, right before he passed away almost 12 years ago.

Find the collection. Make this right.

He was certainly going to try.

  AFTERWORD: The file on Captain Ramsey’s desk

Company Report 318

Recipient: Geoff Ramsey, Captain

Ship Assignment: the Huntress

Destination: Damaged free floater, Class M Freighter. Name unknown.

Objective: Salvage and scrapping of ship remains, as well as disposal and trading upon arrival back at base

Main Materials for Salvage: Computer components, silicon stores, hydrogen cells

Summary: Reported freighter engine failure, 12 years previous. The cause of the crash was reportedly due to navigational error and asteroid impact. No survivors. Distress signal was originally reported up until 3 months after the crash, to which it faded. General vessel area was discovered by ship the Jovial Abode two months prior after a weak signal was found in the area. Republic of Commerce has given go ahead for scrapping mission. Origins and destination of the freighter are unknown and unconfirmed – it appears to be one of the million civilian ships that disappeared during the war.

History of the Area: Site is outskirts of the Battle for Borovia, final conflict in the AI struggle. The capture and eradication zone for the “Lopez” weapons AI is located 50 AU from the crash site. Because the conflict ended 3 months prior to the crash of the class-M, events might be related. Due to his personal history with the Borovian conflict, Michael Jones is suggested as mission personnel, as well as Lindsay Jones for similar history and excellent signal decrypting. Trevor Collins is recommended as well due to advanced debris navigation.

Mission Assignment: ASAP

Personal Notes: Geoff, this is the ship we talked about last week, and all our known knowledge about it. Out of everyone, you and your crew are the best adjusted to this mission. Attached to this document are itemized lists of suspected salvage parts, as well as an estimated layout for the freighter. The base on Borovia should be ready to help you load and unload as needed. Let us know if you need any help, and we’ll send out one of the other ships. Good luck.

Signed: Burnie Burns

End of Document.

[vferrw]

Sleepless Night

3:00 AM

The air in the room feels dry and I still can't sleep. I lay in bed blankly staring at the ceiling. The Autumn moon-light gives the darkness a blue hue. I shift my attention at the sound of a dog barking. Outside my window I see the architecturally similar suburban houses lined up with little to no breathing space between them. I wonder if the houses ever feel claustrophobic. I used to love living in this town when I was a kid. Maresville, Illinois. I was always fascinated by the uniform look of houses and familial feeling within cul-de-sacs. I basically grew up at the park down the street from my old house, which is also minutes away from the apartment I live in now. I wanted to stay close to home, but I also needed freedom away from my parents who didn’t really understand that twenty-year-olds need privacy too. I wonder if things would be different if I still lived at home.

It's been nearly three months since the last time I was able to sleep for more than three hours. The doctor said insomnia is the result of many things: anxiety, drinking too much coffee, or, the most common, psychological stress. It’s also the result of taking Amitriptyline, an antidepressant that they have me dosed up on. I guess being the only survivor of a car crash with three of your closest friends is a fair reason for this. I run my hand over the 5-inch scar on my shoulder and remember glimpses of that night.

5 months ago

“Anna, c’mon, I really don’t want to go out tonight,” I told my best friend while she slid into a romper in the back of her closet.

“It’s Audrey’s birthday, you have to go! The three of us literally grew up together, you can’t miss her 21st,” she pleaded and stumbled out of her closet, posing in front of me so as to ask if she looked alright.

I gave her two thumbs up and rolled my eyes.

“It’s supposed to storm today, if you guys plan on drinking you shouldn’t even be driving,” I said.

“You make a great point, Lindsay dear, BUT that just means we need you to be designated driver for the night,” she looked at me whilst burrowing her eyebrows in a sad face and pouting her upper lip, as if that would convince me.

It did.

I borrowed an over the shoulder top from her and threw on a pair of leggings. That was all the effort I’d be making in my appearance, since I didn’t really want to go. Around 7pm, Audrey arrived to Anna’s house with Connor, another one of our friends. The four of us were neighbors in childhood and never spent a summer without each other, so celebrating Audrey’s 21st together did seem like a rite of passage of sorts.

It was pouring outside by the time we left at 8pm, but the three of them pre-gamed so their spirits were high, while I was still very sober in the driver seat wishing I was home watching Wes Craven’s Freddy’s Nightmare.

  Present

The ten minutes that followed after that are still a blur.

I get up and out of bed and make my way to the kitchen of my one-bedroom apartment. The moon’s light prolongs its stay and finds itself wherever I go, casting shadows over the scuffed marble table, and making weird shapes out of the kitchen knife set that’s never touched. Jinx, my Black Labrador is sound asleep on the couch in the living room, a few steps away from the kitchen. After the car crash, my mom and doctor thought getting a dog may be therapeutic. I was never too fond of dogs, but having Jinx around makes me feel less alone. I drink my meds and make my way back to my room. I lay under the covers for a few more hours until it's time for the 9 AM psychology class that I don’t attend. I let the small TV in my room play a documentary about dreaming. I hear the static of it in the background of my consciousness. It’s saying something about being unable to read in your dreams when I feel sleep finally encompass my body.

 3:00 AM

Another sleepless night. As routine, I pour myself a glass of water and take my meds, but my eye catches a difference in the shadows. One of the kitchen knives is on the table. I grab it and reunite it with the other knives in the rack. Did I use it this morning? All I can hear is the humming noise of the ceiling fan as I stand in the shadows of my kitchen, lost in thought, completely still. I ordered take-out today, so I don’t think I used the knife. Or maybe I used it to open the take-out box. What did I even order?  

I reanimate at the sound of a loud thud from within my apartment. Startled, I nearly spill the glass of water all over the floor. Did that come from my room? I set the glass on the table and walk towards the noise. I swear if another raccoon came in through my window I’m bolting it shut. I slowly make my way down the hall and just as I’m about to open my bedroom door I hear another thud, behind me this time, in the living room. It sounds like someone dropping heavy textbooks onto the floor. I stay in front of my bedroom door and stare down the hallway that leads to the living room. I’m surprised Jinx hasn’t started barking.

My hands begin to tremble and immediately become swept with a feeling of anxiety. The part of me that loves horror films and has every Michael Myers movie memorized tells me to go back into my room and lock the door. But what if it’s raccoons and they get into my cookie stash. Fuck. I hesitantly walk towards the living room. I can feel my chest rise and fall as my breaths become shallower and shallower. I walk past my kitchen, turn the corner, and suddenly the house is silent. I don’t even hear the humming sound of the fan anymore, but everything looks normal. Outside I hear a dog barking, harmonized with the faint sound of rain hitting the side of the apartment.

Jinx is sleeping on the couch and my cookie stash seems to be in place. I walk over to Jinx to wake her, hoping she’ll sleep in my room tonight after getting worked up over nothing. The carpet feels wet under my bare feet. When my eyes adjust to the dimness, I make out a dark spot on the carpet, but I can’t tell what it is. Turning the light on reveals a dark blood stain. Blood? There’s no way that’s blood. I want to wake Jinx up, go to my room, and just sleep. God, I wish I could sleep. I call Jinx’s name. She doesn't flinch.

"Jinx!" I say excitedly, hoping she eagerly wakes up, but still nothing.

I stroke her head and realize her fur feels damp.

"Jinx?" I say, more sternly, wondering if she probably rolled around in her own piss. Do dogs get their period?

I take a closer look and notice a long deep cut along her side, hidden by the length of her jet black fur. I jump back. The gash is deep enough that if I pulled her skin apart I’d probably see the entanglement of her intestines. Someone sliced my dog open. The smell of rotten eggs fills the room. Who would do this? The door is locked and I live on the fifth floor. I'm dreaming. This is a dream. I can’t form a proper thought and I want to get away from the sight, but I stand frozen over my dead dog’s body. My body feels weak and drenched with restlessness and my eyes are heavily lined with tears that have yet to fall. My hands are shaking so much when I take out my phone. I can barely press the numbers on the screen.

"911 what's your emergency," a woman’s voice says.

"Yes, hi, my name is Lindsay. I live on 529 King Street, in Maresville. I think someone broke into my apartment," I say shakily.

"What makes you think that?" the woman asks.

"Well, my dog. I—uh—woke up to walk to my kitchen and I heard a loud thud, when I checked what it was I found my dog in the living room. She was stabbed," I say as the tears in my eyes finally flood my face and I hold back a sob.

"How—unfortunate," the woman says with a diabolical chuckle.

"Um, yes, it's very unfortunate. Could you please send someone over? I think someone may have broken in. I'm home alone so no one else could have done this,” I say irritated that she doesn’t sound the least bit concerned.

"Oh sweetie, you're never alone," the woman says slyly and suddenly the call goes out.

I let out a shriek and my knees hit the ground. It's nearly four in the morning, my dog is dead in the living room, and the police won't help me. I try calling again, but my phone signal goes out. I'll just walk to the police station and make a report. It's not too far of a walk, it’s only a few blocks down from the park. I quickly get dressed and throw on yesterday's jeans and my grey hoodie. As I’m about to head out the door, I receive a phone call from an unknown number.

“Hello?” I answer.

"We're all guilty of something, Lindsay," a man responds in a low agonizing voice. His voice sounds all too familiar and it becomes difficult to swallow.

“Connor?” my voice nearly breaks and the call drops allowing the sound of a prolonged beep ring in my ears.

I need to leave. I clumsily finish putting my shoes on, grab the house keys and run out of the door. I race down the swirled staircase and exit the building. It’s now storming and still dark outside, but its a strange type of darkness. Not the type that says it's time for bed, but the type of darkness that makes you feel uneasy. It's still and silent as I begin to walk south, away from my apartment building. All I can hear is the sound of my footsteps and rain hitting the ground. I try to remember where I'm going. I'm already three blocks down when the rain gets harder and makes it difficult to see what’s ahead of me.

The uniform houses become blurred in my peripheral vision and the air becomes cold. I approach the local park, and slow my pace to catch my breath. As I’m stopped, a car fiercely skids past me as if the driver has lost complete control. I hear a crash, followed by a thud, and notice there is smoke coming from further down. I run towards the smoke, and just as I approach the site of a streetlight fallen onto a crashed car, the car goes up in flames.

 5 Months Ago

           I feel my head throbbing as I lift it from the steering wheel. There’s blood running down the side of my head and there’s a sharp pain in my shoulder. I look to my right and Anna is knocked out over the dashboard.

           “Lindsay,” Connor coughs from the back. He has blood streaming out of his mouth and a gash on the side of his cheek. Audrey was tossed onto his lap.

           “I’m so sorry,” I start to cry. “I’m so sorry.

           Connor pulls Audrey off of his lap and sits her up, blood continues to drip from his face. Audrey’s eyes are wide open, but motionless. Her neck snapped upon impact. She’s dead.

           “I’m so sorry,” I continue to cry while I try to unbuckle my seatbelt.

           “I’m stuck, Lindsay,” Connor says through sobs. “I can’t get the seatbelt unbuckled.”

           I push my car door open, and it falls off as I do so. I join Connor’s side and try to unbuckle his seatbelt, but it won’t undo.

           “Try Anna,” he says, and I notice he’s starting to lose consciousness.

           “Stay awake, Connor. Please. I’m so sorry,” I say with his head in between my hands.

           “Anna,” he coughs.

           As I walk around the car to get to Anna’s side, the hood of the car catches fire, and within seconds the entire car bursts into an orange and yellow explosion. I get thrown a few feet away from the crash and everything goes dark.

 Present

The hood of the car is on fire and I run towards it to see if anyone is still inside. I open the passenger side door and can’t help but believe that my mind is playing tricks on me. I see Anna knocked out over the dashboard. All of them, as they were the night they died, are in the same positions that I last saw them in. Audrey’s head is hanging low, and Connor unconscious in the backseat with dry blood splattered across his neck. But who’s in the driver seat? I make my way around, and notice that the door is already broken off and the seat is empty. While I’m leaning over into the car searching for the driver, all three of the bodies snap their heads up with blood shot eyes and scratches lining their faces.

“Turn around!” they yell.

As I do so, I catch a glimpse of her before she knocks me out cold with a piece of scrap metal.

           I wake up to the beeping sounds of a heart monitor and a raging headache. My shoulder feels sharp with pain and my legs feel heavy. I’m in a hospital. My mom is sitting at the foot of the hospital bed.

           “Sweetie, how are you feeling” she says. I can only manage to let out a cough.

           “She took a hard hit, she may need a few minutes,” a woman says.

The doctor? I try to sit up, but my entire body aches.

“Oh, no Lindsay, lay down. You got hit pretty hard,” the doctor says.

Hit? I didn’t get hit. What happened to the car? Those kids, are they alright?

“Were you told exactly what happened?” my moms voice.

“Yes, the police officers said they got a call from someone who reported they hit a young girl, your daughter. It was an older woman, she said she was driving down the street past the old park.

“Your daughter just ran in front of the car. But, she claims that it looked like Lindsay was staring at something across the street before she ran,” the doctor said.

I let out another cough and find my voice.

“No,” another cough, “I saw someone hit the lamp post. There were four kids in the car, are they okay?” I say.

The room starts to spin, and the white from the ceiling suddenly looks like the tiles on the floor.

“Lindsay, honey, you got hit by a car, okay? There were no other kids, only the woman who hit you. Do you remember why you ran in front of the car?” the doctor says this as if I’m a five-year-old being asked to explain who stole the chalk from the chalkboard.

“I didn’t run in front of a car,” I say, “I saw a car with four teenagers crash into a lamp post. I tried to help them, but…I got distracted,” my voice trails off as I remember the faces of the passengers in the car.

Anna.

Audrey.

Connor.

“It’s okay, Lindsay. Get some rest,” the doctor says and she escorts my mom towards the door. “She’s clearly been through some trauma with the car crash she was in earlier this year. The drugs she was prescribed have side effects of insomnia and hallucinations.

“Your daughter may be experiences both of these side effects. We’ll have to keep her here longer to make sure she doesn’t harm herself,” I hear the doctor say to my mother.

Hallucinations? I think about the knife on my kitchen table. Did I put it there?

I stare at the hospital room ceiling and in my peripheral vision I see three familiar bloody faces standing over me.