#just watch his screen just flash random errors before going dark

[austarus]

HR Wells x Reader Hidden Among The Fairy Lights (Part 1 of 3)

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to its rightful owner.

*Just taking a small break from my Crisis of Infinite Wells reader insert series. Plus, I miss HR and I’m still baffled how they always dismiss him and Harry and all the Wells as if they mean nothing to the audiences. They mean just as much as Barry and Cisco and Iris. A reminder, the beginning dialogue is from the HR scene in 3x05.

Word Count: 4389

Part 2  Part 3

“You were named Entrepreneur of the Decade by “Tech Magazine”?” Cisco read off the monitor, arms folded as he maintained a look of doubt on his features. Iris sat on a chair; one leg crossed over the other as she rested her head against the palm of her hand. Barry stood right behind where his love sat, glancing from the screen back to the Wells doppelganger and crossed his arms like his best friend. Caitlin leaned against the main Cortex desk with both hands on her hips and a tired expression on her face. Wally hung back a bit on the other end of the main monitor desk. 

You were at the main desk, sitting back with your hands folded in your lap. With pursed lips, you would glance down at your fingers ever so often at this supposed trial. He lied to us, but so did Harry when he first came to Earth-1 and he didn’t turn out as bad. Just prickly at times and soft in others. When this meeting was called to confront HR, you had decided in your head that you’d want the full story from HR before judging his course of action to lie to you all.

“That's right,” HR confirm with a drumstick pointed at his entire resume, eyes avoiding your gaze. He had calmed his breathing, but when his eyes met yours, he felt the tension climb within himself. He hadn’t wanted you of all people to find out like this. If only my charade had gone on for a few more weeks, I would probably have entrusted my truth to you. You had been the one cutie on the Team to not look at him oddly, especially when he made minor errors during his charade. A voice at the back of his mind told him that you had probably already figured out that HR wasn’t who he proclaimed that he was, but then again, you hadn’t questioned him. So, he left it at that… until the team called for him to fess up.

“Is any of what's on here true?”

“All of it.” With a pocketed hand, HR waved a drumstick to the screen for emphasis. His electric blue eyes caught you looking off to the side. HR didn’t need to know what you were thinking to hazard a guess of what you thought of him right now. What everyone thought of him when they learned his truth.

“How? You can barely turn on a computer.” Barry quipped up, nodding his head towards a random computer.

“There are two parts to every idea. There is the inception and the execution. I provide the former.”

“So, you come up with the ideas?” Iris clarified while Barry kept a dubious look on his face directed at the dark-haired doppelganger.

“Yeah, I don't know how to implement them. I'm the idea man.”

“So, you didn't actually solve the cryptogram that we sent you?” Caitlin asked, knowing that she had already answered her own question.

“No, that was my partner at STAR Labs on my Earth. I'm the face of the company.” HR responded making a photograph gesture of his face before fiddling with his drumsticks once more. Caitlin gave him an incredulous look at his response. You moved your gaze up, taking a peek to the rest of the contents on the screen before looking back at HR. The drumstick fiddling had caught your attention more than once since his arrival here and you’re more than convinced that HR does it when he’s nervous. Especially when he’s been caught red-handed. “I'm more of the inspiration behind the company. Then I was exposed.” His tone had softened, glancing at you from the peripheral before dipping his head down. Your heart caught in your throat at his dejected body language. Iris and Barry locked gazes with each other before listening HR’s continuation. “Well, people thought that I was something that I... I guess I wasn't. Anyway, it... it kind of all fell apart for me.” HR let out a little breath, before continuing. Your heart fell a bit at the amount of hurt that had been laced with his voice. “But then I got your message. My partner brought me your message. I realized he's bringing me an opportunity to come to this Earth to write this book.” HR’s face gradually lit up as he finished, a true novelist articulating his emotions through his words and gestures.

“So many planets in the multiverse,” Cisco mused in disbelief to himself while everyone glanced to one another, “and we happen to pick the one Wells who's not a scientist.” You made eye contact with Caitlin, who shook her head while you did a subtle shrug of the shoulders.

“You're right. I wasn't completely honest with you- with all of you.” HR took a seat as he spoke, rolling a bit closer. HR let out a breath, swinging the drumstick around. He couldn’t look at you in fear of what he might find. “I feel badly about that. I regret that. But let me ask you a question, has there been none amongst you that has ever shaded the truth for what you believe to be the greater good?” He’s right, we all try to hide our demons, our own terrible truths from hurting others. Barry from telling Iris that he was the Flash, Cisco when he first found out he was a meta, and so on. I’m no different either.

“It sounds to me like you're a con man.” Wally interjected in the silence. Murmurs of agreement rang out through the members of Team Flash while you only raised a confused eyebrow at Wally’s conclusion. Then I guess we’re all con men? I mean, we’ve all kept the truth from each other before. You kept your comments to yourself as you watched the others and HR. You already had your verdict, setting your chin in the palm of your hand as you rested your elbow on the cool surface of the desk.

HR got up towards Cisco, readily defending himself, “Was I a con man when I showed San Francisco here how to track the beast using car alarms? Was I a con man when I showed him how to fashion a rope using carbon fiber?” You held in a snicker when he referred to Cisco as ‘San Francisco’. I guess that’s one thing we have in common with his Earth.

“I came up with those ideas!”

“You were prompted by my suggestions.”

“Oh?” Cisco shook his head slightly at HR.

“That is how ideas work! People, you need a muse! I can be your muse,” HR pointed to himself, hoping to any higher power that the Team would accept that role for him to at least do. You gave him a soft smile at his suggestion.

“What about stopping all the metas on your Earth?” Wally asked, gesturing to the doppelganger before taking a step forward. Barry and Wally exchanged looks before shaking their heads at one another as HR started speaking.

“More of an advisory role for me, but I was there. I remembered how we- you don’t think that's something? Let me present you with a scenario. You're confronted with something, a threat that you've never seen before. You don't know how to stop it. Who does?” He pointed his drumstick towards himself. The novelist needed them to reconsider whatever decision that they already had. To reconsider booting him off this Earth and to give him a chance. “That's value to you. Let me prove my worth to you. If I fail, I will pfft right back to my Earth, but if I succeed, I will have succeeded not just in redeeming myself but also… will have done some good with my life,” he quickly mumbled the latter part, feeling sheepishly embarrassed, maybe even humiliated by the last statement, but if this is the way to go for redemption then it was certainly worth trying for.

“You know, you're lucky we're pretty big on redemption and doing good here,” Barry spoke on behalf of the team, gesturing to you all with a hand, “so I think you can- I don't know stay for a few weeks, try to prove yourself, but if not, fyoo, back to your Earth.” You watched with a quizzical look as Caitlin left the room. Must be the exhaustion from today. I hope she’s alright.

“Thank you,” HR sighed in relief, clapping his hands together in thanks towards Barry. He couldn’t help the fact that his eyes took a quick glimpse of you. He told himself he wasn’t sure why anymore; he had been exposed as a fraud once more. You wouldn’t want anything to do with him. Simple as that.

“Hey,” Cisco had stopped HR with a pointed look and finger, “no more repackaging.”

“Word is bond.”

“That- just- no more of that.” Wally and Cisco started heading out from the Cortex.

“All right, HR,” Barry and Iris were the last pair to go, bidding their ‘goodnights’. You had gotten up with them, knowing there was nothing else left to say, but to go home for the night to rest up for any more of the new timeline metas. Walking halfway through the corridor towards the elevator and trailing behind the West-Allen Gold Standard, a thought stopped you. Maybe… he just needs someone to teach him- You weren’t able to finish the thought as your feet silently carried you back to the Cortex. There HR sat with his back towards you, a drumstick in hand and his other hand rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at the screen that held his resume and qualifications. While he was given a chance, you knew that he would have to effectively and efficiently find a way to prove himself before his time ran out.

“Word is bond, that’s a cute saying,” you softly spoke out, leaning against the metal frame of the Cortex entrance. HR let out a little “ah!” at the suddenness of your voice, accidentally throwing one of his drumsticks backwards. It sailed back towards your general area. You giggled at the reaction, picking up the instrument piece and handing it over to him when he had turned around. HR had let out a word of relief with a hand over his heart when he realized it was you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

“For a little birdy, you sure do know how to be as silent and sneaky as a snail.” His cheeks felt warm when he heard you giggle; a bright smile had graced your features when you approached him. HR hoped you wouldn’t notice.

“Don’t you mean a mouse?”

“Snails can be silent.”

“I know, but the saying is ‘silent as a mouse’.” You pulled up a chair to sit beside him. The now dimmed lights of the Cortex had eased your headaches. “I guess that’s just another comparison between our Earths.”

HR looked at you oddly, running his fingers over both drumsticks that he held in one hand, “It doesn’t bother you?”

“Hm? What would?”

“How- How I say words and phrases differently? Do things differently from the people here on Earth-1?”

“I just think that makes you really unique,” you shrugged your shoulders a bit, giving him a soft grin. HR felt the heat returning to his cheeks again and now spread up to his ears. No one has really called him unique, certainly not in a good way either.

“But the others think its peculiar, just too much.”

“Well, I think it’s cool that there’s some form of variation from our Earth’s. Give the others some time, they’ll get used to you, I promise.” You secretly prided yourself with the ability to give people of various backgrounds and characters the benefit of the doubt. Open-mindedness as well as kind acts can go a long way, after all.

A deep chuckle left HR’s lips and you felt something jump in your stomach. HR glanced up to the monitor before looking back at you. “I’m guessing you’re not here just to chatter-chitter, huh.”

“You’re right, I’m not.” You folded your hands together in your lap, intertwining you fingers as you crossed one leg over the other. Almost looking business-like. “I have a proposition for you, HR.”

“Oh really?” The novelist quirked an eyebrow at you, he sat back to match your body language as if the both of you were associates discussing a business transaction.

“Yes sir, but you have to keep this a secret between us, ok? Word is bond?”

A smile laced itself onto HR’s ruggedly handsome features at your iteration of his Earth’s phrase. You swore the room lit up a little bit at his smile. “Word is bond.”

You nibbled on your bottom lip, choosing your words wisely before speaking up again. “… I also want something in return.”

“Naturally, an eye for an eye, but it’ll depend on the prize that you want. What’s your proposition, little birdy?”

“I want to help you realize your worth and value to the team. You know, find a way for you to be helpful with the time that you have here. And starting with teaching you the basics of turning on a computer.”

“At what cost?”

“Three questions.” You simply held up three fingers.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’d need to answer a total of three questions that I could have at any point of your stay here. No resisting and no shading of the truth. No avoidance, either. Just the honest to God truth.”

“…” HR remained silent, contemplating your proposition and the costs. Wondering your true intentions and if you would be the type of person to betray him. Like so many others have in my life. HR took one took at your smug-ish face before a sigh left his mouth. Your smile had twisted into a grin.

“Well?”

“Do you promise on your soul not to blackmail me?”

“Word is bond,” you repeated gingerly. HR reluctantly agreed with raspy voice, blue eyes holding some form of trust in you.

A cheeky laugh left your lips as HR relaxed a bit in his seat, sort of contemplating what he had just gotten himself into as he watched you stand up from your seat. You offered a hand to him, that grin on your face turning into a slightly mischievous one as your other hand had held your tablet close to your chest.

“Let’s get started.”

***

The next few weeks you would hang out with HR, teaching him the basics of scanning the city for metas, understanding the basics of how a computer works, and so on. He really had been putting in a lot of effort, asking to take notes which you thought was sweet, even if some of the others didn’t welcome it at the time. HR had gone to the extent of re-reading old meta case files that the team had stored and would go on coffee runs every morning just to make sure the team was awake for the next meta sent by Alchemy. You found out about the files one morning when you found him in his pre-caffeinated sleep state in the Cortex with the files littering the computer screens. You had gotten a spare blanket and draped it over him so he wouldn’t be cold.

It wasn’t until you heard some yelling and soft curse words being thrown around from within the Cortex, that your feet picked up their pace from where you were in the corridor. You tilted your head, standing at the door-frame as you can sense the frustration emitting from Cisco towards HR. Caitlin was rubbing her temples while Barry was just running a hand through his hair as he tried to keep his irritation off his face.

“Good afternoon?” Your greeting was more in the form of a question as you knocked on the metal door-frame to alert the others of your attention. Barry and Caitlin had breathed a sigh of relief at your presence, sending you gracious smiles towards you. Cisco had shut his eyes, massaging his temples. “I brought homemade goods?” You held up the bag that had been filled with sugar cookies, sweet berry tarts, and brownies.” A small smile was on your face, glancing at everyone before setting the goods down. HR lowered his drumsticks and internally felt at ease that you had come at just the right time before Cisco’s berating would soon turn even nastier. With swift feet, the author left the room, probably going to make a new cup of coffee that he’s gotten so attached to.

“Finally, someone sensible around here,” Cisco grumbled to himself, making his way to where you placed the goods in hopes that delicate pastries from your hands would calm his spiked-up mood. “Please keep him out of the labs today,” the mechanical genius leaned into you, holding up a brownie.

“He’s just trying to help, Cisco,” You whispered back to Cisco, giving your friend a side-glance.

“I know, but we really have a lead on all these husks, and we don’t want him distracting us from that,” Cisco stated almost desperately. “Please, just this once.”

“You’re lucky that I’m a good friend.”

“Yes, I am. And,” Cisco pulled out a paper from his pocket, handing it over to you, “I have a list for you.” You gave him a quizzical look as you took the paper and unfolded it, to which Cisco spoke again. “We’re going to need a few items for the break room and from Star City, mainly Felicity.”

“Why can’t Barry speed over to get these?”

“Because CCPD, specifically Barry’s new partner, needs him to be on time whenever they call or else, he gets reported to Sighn. Again.” Caitlin spoke up, taking a sip from her cup of lemonade.

Barry sheepishly looked over at you, a tart half-eaten in his mouth as he waved at you with a cookie in hand. “Uh huh,” you rolled your eyes, not really liking doing errand work, but at least you get to see Felicity again, “just do me a favor, don’t touch my algorithms.”

“No promises. Oh, and one more thing.”

“Yes, San Francisco?”

“Don’t call me that.” He rolled his eyes. “Make sure you crazy kids don’t stay out for too long,” Cisco winked at you, hinting towards something he and Caitlin had confronted you about earlier that week. Barry looked confused as ever, mumbling out a huh ‘huh?’ with his mouth still full. The blood rushed to your cheeks before you flipped him off, earning a cheeky look from your friends who just smirked at your reaction. You left the room, throwing Cisco one more pointed look about your coding and algorithms before striding to the breakroom to find HR, who’s probably sulking with his heavily caffeinated cup of coffee.

***

“Hey HR,” you entered the breakroom, spotting the broad back of the dark-haired doppelganger, “why don’t you come run some errands with me?”

HR was silent for a moment; the only sound was the clinking of the coffeemaker as it began to hibernate once more. “Did they want me out of the labs today?” You heard the hurt in his voice as he finished brewing his perfect blend, turning around with a dejected expression. You nodded a bit as you looked down, taking a step closer towards him and resting a hand on his forearm. You squeezed it slightly, feeling incapable of lying to him about… anything really. His shoulders fell, shaking his head as he pulled away from your warm touch.

“Give them some time to cool off,” You spoke softly in a low tone. “In the meantime, we’ve got a few places to visit. And I’m definitely going to need a strong hand.”

HR chuckled a bit, holding his cup of java close to him. “I’m sure you can handle it on your own. You’re a strong, independent, and intelligent female.” His comments made the blood rush to your cheeks. You gently took a hold of his free hand, feeling stubbornness wash over you.

“Yes, but I want your help. I want you to come out with me today.” You pouted at him. The both of you stared at each other. “And I’m not going to take no for an answer.” You poked his shoulder as you stated that.

“…”

“…”

You smiled widely when he sighed in defeat, rolling his eyes slightly before setting his coffee down. You both knew his answer. HR couldn’t deny the amount of light that he saw twinkle in your eyes at how he gave in. He liked to think it was because he agreed to accompany you today, but… He pushed his thoughts aside as you giddily pulled him along as you grabbed one of his dark jackets that he had left on one of the couches. He hastily snatched up his drumsticks as well.

“Where are we going, little birdy?”

“We, my dear bookworm, are going to visit an old friend in Star City.”

***

After finishing up with Felicity in the Arrow Cave, you and HR bid her goodbye with the materials that Cisco had noted down for you, but not before she pulled you close and whispered “Go get’em tiger” in your ear, pushing you in HR’s general direction which caused you to stumble forward with pink cheeks. Said man looked confused at the exchange, you stuttered out that it was nothing. Felicity and HR had gotten along well enough, causing something to stir slightly inside you. But you shook those feelings away. Felicity sent Cisco a quick text message once the two of you left, feeling happy for her close friend, who sadly remains oblivious to the signs of love. HR seems like a nice enough guy, not as shady as Eobard Thawne. I just hope he doesn’t break her like all the other guys she’s been with before. Even Felicity had noticed the way HR had looked at you. The genius hacker pursed her lips and went back to monitoring the city. 

He does have to admit that leaving the labs today was a good change in scenery. HR didn’t feel as cooped up as he initially did. Leaving Star City, a thought came to you as you and HR entered downtown Central City. Cisco had also given you a grocery list to complete since him and a certain speedster were always running out of things to eat in the breakroom. I swear they have bottomless pits in their stomachs. A literal void of absolute emptiness that’ll never be satisfied. And how many freaking things do we need to buy??? HR and you had both agreed to drop off the tech pieces at the Labs for Cisco before completing the errand run. 

“HR?”

“Yes, little birdy?”

“Why do you always call me ‘little birdy’?”

“Is that the first question you wish to use?” He perked an eyebrow up at you. I feel like a Djinn about to grant three wishes to the one who released me from my lamp prison.

“… No.”

“Then I guess, my secrets shall remain in the depths of my being.” HR watched a pout form on your face, and he had to force himself to look away. Clearing his throat, HR asked, “Where to next?” HR made sure the leather backpack of tech Cisco needed was securely on his back.

“Apparently, we have to do the Team’s grocery shopping today,” you sighed in annoyance, running a hand through your locks. Checking the time on your phone, you chewed on the inside of your cheek. “I was hoping to at least have some time today to drop by CSMC.”

The CSMC? HR furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What do you do exactly?”

“Me? Well I’m a Computer Scientist, guess you figured out that part from my expertise with computers.” You laughed a little at yourself, not noticing the graying of the clouds. “Felicity’s two years my senior back in grad school, she taught me all the ropes in coding and hacking. When I finally graduated, we both had big dreams for the future, one of mine was to fund an establishing tutoring program to encourage more girls into careers involving computer science, robotics, and mathematics.” HR grinned at the notion, readjusting the strap of the backpack. “Felicity soon joined me in my endeavors with advocating for younger girls while pursuing her own and ever since then we’ve been visiting CSMC when we can.  Society is changing and people are beginning to understand that these fields aren’t just for men, but for all people of various backgrounds. Central City and Star City work in collaboration to keep the centers running.”

HR was a bit speechless, the capability of your thoughtfulness seemed to know no bounds. “I shouldn’t have expected any less from someone as intellectually gifted as you.”

You glanced up at the taller man, a slightly humorous look on your face, “HR, I’m not smart. I just try to work really hard. I finished school at the bottom of my class actually. Hell, Cisco catches my mistakes still. It’s a miracle that I even got hired at STAR Labs. I’m not perfect really.”

“But you’re good enough that you’re able to work wonders with Team Flash. Saving lives, disabling villainous security systems. You really are an incredible soul.” I can’t do any of that…

I bet you’re incredible too, you just don’t know it yet. You pursed your lips smiling up at him, one that he returned before nudging you with his elbow. You giggled and nudged him back before walking in silence once more. “I think I know what I want to ask for my first question.” HR quirked a pesky eyebrow at you, his smile turning into a wry smirk. He pocketed his hands as you both seemed to lose track of time.

“What was your life like back on Earth-19?”

HR felt his blood freeze in his veins at your question. HR had stopped, causing you to stop as you found yourselves a few blocks away from STAR Labs. *The truth would come out sooner or later. A haunting voice echoed at the back of his mind, mentally presenting his nighttime demons that revealed themselves in his dreams. All of it.

[visander]

A Bit of Space

(Malec, tw: hurt/injury + vomiting, 25k) | (read on ao3)

Alec and Magnus are the sole survivors after their spaceship crashes on an uninhabited planet. They have no way to contact anyone to let them know they’re still alive but somehow, they make it work. In the end, all they really need is each other.

This artwork was created for the @malecdiscordserver Mini Bang 2020. 

This fic is also available in a wonderful completed podfic here, created by @accal1a (ao3). 

Special thanks to @the-prophet-lemonade (ao3) for beta reading this fic and pretty much making it as nice as it is now. 

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. 

Podfic Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. 

Chapter One Preview:

Magnus threw his head back with a soft sigh and kicked his feet off the side of his desk. Instantly, he was spinning. There were locks on the bottom of their chairs to stop the ship’s movement from throwing them out of their seats when they were trying to work but Magnus liked to keep his unlocked for moments like this. He didn’t get motion sick, unlike some of his unfortunate companions and, sometimes, the glare of the monitors became too much and he needed to get away. 

So, he tilted his head back as he spun in his chair and stared up at the white metal ceiling that kept the void of space at bay. After a moment, Magnus planted his feet and found himself face to face with the data he’d been looking at before. He skimmed the screen once more, like some epiphany he hadn’t thought of would magically jump out at him from the numbers. It didn’t and so, Magnus tilted his head back and spun once again. It was a little childish but Magnus didn’t really care. It gave him a chance to think.

He was trying to analyze the atmospheric composition of the planet they were orbiting. It wasn’t their destination or even a point of interest for them but they were stuck here for a while and honestly, Magnus had nothing better to do in the meantime. 

Their destination was still far off, a planet a few lightyears away that they were dropping off some supplies to but there was an error with their communications system. It was protocol to stop if the ship lost communication. So here they were, drifting aimlessly around a planet Magnus had decided to check out to quell his boredom somewhat. 

The thing was, the data Magnus had gotten back from the scan was… puzzling to say the least. He could see the thick cloud cover from his window, obscuring any chance he had to actually look at the surface of the planet he was analyzing. He wondered what it looked like on the surface and that wonder was the whole reason Magnus had decided to look into the planet in the first place. 

He thought it might be an acidic, dry planet like venus or maybe, he’d found a planet with a deep icy ocean like Europa. Discovery was always the part of Magnus’ job that excited him most and he wouldn’t be discovering much on this trip. He was coming to take scans and analyze soil, which was charming in it’s own way but it still wasn’t the grand discovery Magnus had dreamed of in school.

Besides, it might be useful information at some point. There was no information they could get that wouldn’t be useful to someone, somewhere but the report hadn’t come back showing anything Magnus expected at all. The planet was mostly carbon. He’d expected the atmosphere to be mainly sulfur dioxide, but it wasn’t. 

Magnus scanned over the readings once more but he wasn’t even sure why he was thinking about it so hard. There was no other conclusion to come to.

The clouds were made of water. Even more surprising than that, the atmosphere was full of nitrogen and oxygen. In all their years of searching, no planet that seemed this… inhabitable had ever been found. Even the planet they were headed to on this supply run - a planet that  would someday house humans - was not as inhabitable as these scans were telling him this random planet was.

Still, Magnus paused. He’d look like an idiot if he went and told everyone and it turned out his data was inaccurate. There was something wrong with their ship. Their communications were down, but maybe that wasn’t their only problem. He’d redo the scans, he decided suddenly. 

He’d redo them and, if they came back the same, maybe then he’d get excited. It wasn’t like he could send any data back home right now anyway and he really had nothing better to do. Before he had this to occupy him, Magnus had been spinning in circles trying not to go insane. 

Magnus clicked a few buttons. He saved the data and scheduled another probe to head out but this time, he set it for a longer scan; it wasn’t like they had anywhere to be. Magnus had just enough time to hit the button and close his screen down before Alexander Lightwood walked through the door into the observation deck. 

Alec was their head of communications and their captain. This whole mess was on him and he walked with his shoulders tense enough to show it. Even his lips were pressed in a tight thin line, something he only did when he was thinking too hard or once, when he’d told Magnus he had a headache. It was clear he was not having a lovely day.

Magnus spun to face him, quirking an eyebrow in his direction. “No luck?” he called, knowing what the answer was before Alec spoke. Magnus would have heard if they’d managed to establish communication again and besides, Alec’s unhappy face told Magnus all he needed to know.

Alec shook his head. “Our antenna is broken,” he stated mournfully as he flopped backwards onto one of the couches pressed against the wall. 

“It’s broken?” Magnus asked. 

Alec nodded, moving to brush back his dark messy hair. It looked like he hadn’t slept the night before or even bothered to look in a mirror. “We must’ve hit something. It looks like our fuel tank is damaged too but it’s just the backup fuel, so it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Unless something happens and we need our backup fuel,” Magnus cut in, frowning. They could use solar energy if they were really stuck but they’d have to be close enough to a viable star for that to work. It wasn’t exactly the most reliable backup plan.

“I tried to have the Angel fix it but it didn’t work,” Alec continued. “The damage is too severe. We’re going to have to go fix it ourselves.” 

The Angel was their ship. It was a grand piece of new aged technology, full of everything they needed. There were only ten of them on board, half of them there to keep the ship running, the other half there to manage the supplies they were dropping off and then Magnus, who’d come to poke at dirt when they landed but the Angel took care of them all. There wasn’t much the Angel couldn’t do but, apparently, they’d finally pushed it too far. 

“Can we fix it?” Magnus asked after a moment. Alec didn’t sound incredibly sure of himself and that alone was worrying. Alec was always sure of himself. 

Frowning, Alec nodded slowly. “Yeah.” They lapsed into silence for a beat before Alec added, “I think so and if we can’t, we just abandon the mission and head back.” He took a deep breath. “Our ship is fine. We’re okay. If we can’t get the antenna working, we just go back.” 

Magnus nodded. “Right,” he agreed easily. He knew it wasn’t as simple as Alec made it sound to ‘go back’. With their communications down, they’d have a hard time with navigation. The ship drove itself based on data they got from home. They had emergency maps and had coordinated for incidents like this, of course, but the thought of manually directing the ship back to Earth was not something Magnus was going to volunteer for. “Who’s going out to fix it?” he asked instead of voicing any of that.

“Andrew and Maia. I was going to go myself but they told me they had it,” Alec said, frowning as he shifted to pick a little anxious at his fingers. Magnus had never seen Alec do that before but he’d also never seen Alec this stressed out, or ashamed. Magnus knew he felt guilty he wasn’t going out there to fix it himself but he had a crew for a reason.

Besides, Magnus could see why they told Alec they had it under control. Alec looked like he was ready to drop. Magnus stared at him for a moment before he rose to his feet. 

“Come on, let’s go have a bite to eat,” he announced as Alec hesitantly looked up and then stood to follow him. “Maybe, we’ll get a drink in you and send you off to bed.” 

Alec huffed a soft laugh as he stood up but Magnus wasn’t kidding. It looked like Alec was long overdue for a drink. They didn’t have much alcohol on board, and what little they did have was mostly saved for birthdays and holidays but if anyone was deserving of a drink just because, it was Alec. 

“I’m serious,” Magnus insisted as he led Alec towards the kitchen. “You’re having a drink.”

Alec didn’t protest too much. 

Magnus wandered back to the observation deck after he knew Alec was safely tucked into bed. Magnus doubted that Alec would sleep long enough to wake up feeling refreshed, but at least he had convinced him to get some rest. That alone was a feat to behold. Their captain seemed convinced if he wasn’t driving himself into the ground, he wasn’t doing enough. 

Magnus peered out the windows as he walked by to see if he could spot Andrew or Maia out there near the antenna. He thought he saw a flash of one of their boots before they disappeared out of sight again, leaving Magnus with nothing to watch. Sighing, Magnus went to sit down.

Normally, Magnus would take a moment like this to call Catarina or Ragnor on Earth, but he hadn’t been able to speak to them in days now. No one had spoken to anyone in days. They were completely and utterly off the grid and that was a lot of the reason Magnus found his down time so unbearable. He wanted to tell Ragnor what was happening. He wanted to hear whatever snarky remarks he’d have to say about it.

Magnus wondered if his friends had been told there was something wrong with their ship and that’s why he wasn’t talking to them. He wondered if they hadn’t been told anything at all. If mission control was trying to keep this quiet, they might not have said a word. Magnus wondered if Catarina and Ragnor were sitting somewhere, making furious phone calls in an attempt to find out why Magnus hadn’t called them in days.  

Both of them would too. Magnus could imagine Ragnor barking at some poor intern for not putting him through to someone more superior, yelling his way up the chain of command until he was hung up on, just to call again.

Magnus wondered if Alec’s family was worried. Magnus was pretty sure that Alec mentioned having siblings. He’d seen Alec video chatting with a girl who looked a lot like him, at least. 

Magnus remembered because he’d ducked into the call to say hello and, as he’d walked away, he’d heard the girl whistle and tell Alec to shoot his shot. Magnus didn’t think he was supposed to hear that.

Truthfully, Alec wouldn’t have to shoot much of a shot to get him, but there were fraternisation laws for a reason. It was inappropriate. No romantic involvement while deployed. No hooking up. Magnus couldn’t imagine their captain as someone who would break that rule, but maybe, when they all hit the ground again, Magnus would give Alec his number.

Despite being stuck with Alec for as long as he had been, Magnus wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little better in a different environment where Alec wasn’t always in charge of him - not that Magnus minded other people being in charge. Magnus would love some alone time with him and to take him out for dinner that wasn’t freeze dried. He wondered if Alec liked Italian food. 

God, Magnus would have killed for a fresh bread stick, a nice candle light dinner, perhaps Alexander Lightwood stretched out on a platter for him. Really, Magnus would have killed to go on a date with anyone at all. He didn’t want to think about how long it had been since he’d kissed someone or how long it would be before he had the chance again.

With nothing better to do, Magnus let himself dream.

Continue reading Chapter One here or read on ao3 here. 

[gaiyofanfiction]

Twisted Karnival - Chapter 1

Stray Kids x Reader

Horror/Thriller/Drama

Twisted Circus!AU

A/N: Here’s chapter 1! We’ve gotten great feedback so far, please let us know what you think of this part! Theresa is a genius! Enjoy! ~Liz

Warnings: Mentions of seduction and kidnapping. Possibly more in the future. We also write for 0t9, so Woojin is going to be in this series.

Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction and in no way represents the idols of Stray kids or JYP.

~~~

[Prologue]

[Before Reading, check out the profile boards for each member HERE.]

~~~

Waking up the next morning, you remembered it was the day of the carnival. Sighing, you ruffled your hair, yawning slightly as your head fell back against the pillow. Your eyes burned against the rays of sunshine beaming through your window. You groaned, rolling over and covering your face. As your body slowly fell back at ease, you were startled by a loud buzzing noise. You lunged forward, nearly falling out of bed to reach your phone to silence it.

“H...hello?”

“Hey! Are you awake?!” Your friend asked excitedly.

You groaned slightly, shuffling your hair around. “I am now. What’s up?” “Tonight is that new event that cute guy invited us to!”

You rubbed your face, glancing at the dark ticket resting on the dresser. “Yeah. Unfortunately, I remembered.”

“Yeah! So I thought we could go pick up some cute outfits before the show to impress someone tonight.”

You sighed loudly, falling back against the bed. “You mean so YOU can impress someone tonight.”

Your friend lightly giggled into the phone. “I will be there in an hour so we have enough time to prepare!” She quickly hung up, leaving you in a sense of pure silence. 

You slowly sat up in bed, rubbing the side of your face as your eyes locked onto the black ticket once more. You turned your head, quickly reopening your phone. You typed the words 'Twisted Carnival' into the search engine, leaving you with zero results. “Hmm?” You quickly moved from the bed grabbing the ticket. "Oh, it's with a 'K'." You mumbled and corrected your error retyping the search. Your screen flooded over with a few photos of the Karnival’s performers. 

Your jaw drops at the photos of the many god-like boys gracing your screen. “Wow… did they just hire a bunch of models or…?” You closed the tab, opening a new one as you tried to find more information about the show.

Sadly, you found nothing but the same photos. “What the…? You would think that something like this would have a website… or a review? Something?” You rolled your eyes placing the ticket and phone back down.

You look at the ticking clock, noticing your friend will be here in less than 45 minutes. You stand up and stretch your arms. "Well, better hit the shower before I'm dragged all over the place."

~~~

"God, I feel so under dressed compared to you." You mumble as you and your friend walk down the path to the carnival.

Your friend giggles and twirls in her brand new short, long sleeved black dress with thigh high boots. "Oh stop it, Y/N. You look hot! I have no doubt you'll catch the eye of someone."

You look down at your black ripped skinny jeans, the holes revealing the fishnet stockings worn underneath. Pulling at the short black crop top covering the top portion of your body, you grumble. "Why are we wearing these? It's not like were going to a club."

Your friend hooks her arm with yours, pulling you along faster. "Who cares what we wear! We look hot and that orange haired boy is going to flip!"

Before you could respond, you hear the faint carnival music grow louder. Finally, you see the big top tent and the bright lights of the carnival. Your eyes grow wide, in awe at the beautiful sight of the layout in front of you. Your friend squeals excitedly and grabs your arm, pulling you into a run straight to the front gate.

"Well, well, well. Looks like you two beauties were able to make it." 

A familiar voice spoke up behind you. The two of you turn to see the orange haired boy from earlier with a smirk on his face. His eyes roam down your body, drinking in your appearance.

"And might I say, you look… delicious."

Your friend doesn't notice that Felix's statement and eyes were solely directed towards you. She giggles and bows her head politely. "Why thank you…"

"Ah, how boorish of me. I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Felix." He bows once more, right hand to his chest and his left arm out in greeting. He raises his head, sending a subtle wink in your direction, his smirk remaining.

You hold up your black ticket, waving it in the air. "So, um, who do we give this to?"

Felix takes a few steps towards you and snatches the ticket from your hand. "I'll take that, my sweet. But I need to stamp your hand in return." He holds up a stamp and gently takes your hand, pressing it to the backside. As soon as his hand touched yours, a shiver ran down your spine. You look from the stamp up to his eyes. That's when you notice a quick flash of light emitting from his eyes. But before you could react, it disappeared.

He walks over to your friend and also stamps the back of her hand. You didn't see a flash in his eyes this time, however, so you shrug, thinking it was a trick of the light. She squeals and shows you her hand excitedly.

"Ah, Y/N, look! They have little rose stamps for admission!"

You look down at your hand, noticing the stamp was not a rose, but a top hat. You quirked a brow, wondering why yours was different. You were about to ask about it but your friend interrupts you.

"Mr. Felix, would you be so kind as to show me where the restrooms are? I would like to freshen up before the show."

Felix bows his head and grins. "I would be delighted, beautiful." He holds out his hand for your friend to take.

"Y/N, I'll be right back. Don't wander off!"

"Indeed, my dear." Felix turns his head, side eyeing you. "We wouldn't want something to...happen to you."

Standing there, you watch your friend and Felix walk away in slight shock. You sigh, slightly annoyed that your friend would leave you on your own to go off with some random man you just met. Looking around, you notice the hustle and bustle of the carnival. The workers running the food tents and game stands, the parents chasing after their screaming children. It was all a little overwhelming, to say the least.

You walk off to the side of the fair grounds to get away from the commotion of the event, imagining it to be quieter. But that's when you notice a faint humming sound coming from behind the big top tent. You peek your head around and notice a faint glow coming from a smaller tent around the back. Your curiosity got the better of you as you make your way to the buzzing of the glowing light, like a moth to a flame. You reach your hand out slowly, wanting to open the tent flap.

"Excuse me, doll, can I help you?"

You jump upon hearing a new voice, jerking your hand back into your body. Turning your head you see a gorgeous, brown haired man step out from behind the tent you were previously interested in. Your jaw hangs open at the beauty before you.

"I-I.. U-Um…"

The man chuckles and tilts his head. "See something you like, doll?" He gives you the once over, biting his lip. He takes a step towards you, causing you to take a single step back. A hard object blocks your path and you turn your head to see another gorgeous man, this one with jet black hair. You squeak and stumble away, now facing both men.

The one who you bumped into laughs and gives you a crazy look. "Well, who do we have here, Hyunjin?"

The brunette, Hyunjin, lets out a low guttered growl. "I'm not exactly sure, Jisung. But she sure is a cute little thing." His eyes wander down to your stamped hand, his brow raising at the picture of the top hat.

Jisung's eyes follow Hyunjin's, also noticing the picture of the top hat. His eyes grow excited as he bounces on his heels. "Oh oh oh! You're a guest? You're going to just love the show, sweet thing!" His eyes linger on your body, licking his lips. "My sweet, little, innocent-"

"Jisung! Hyunjin! What are you two doing? Get back to work!"

The two boys snap to attention at hearing the voice of their Ringleader. Chan stands behind them, his arms crossed and his eyes flashing red. Jisung and Hyunjin nod and shuffle back into the tent, but not without giving you one more glance. Chan rolls his eyes and turns his attention onto you.

"Now now, what are you doing here, beautiful? It's dangerous for a guest to be wandering around behind the scenes of this camp."

You snap out of your daze and bow your head in apology. "I-I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to. I got, um… lost."

"My dear, call me Chan. I'm the ringleader here at this camp." He takes off his top hat and bows his head in a similar fashion Felix did. He glances down at your stamp, noticing the top hat. A smirk plays at his lips but tries to contain his pleasure. "And I would be delighted to guide you back out to the center of the grounds, my dear." 

You hesitated for a moment glancing down at Chan’s out extended hand. You slowly stepped forward, placing your hand in his palm without thinking, a shiver running down your spine at the contact. Another smirk rolled across Chan’s lips as he gazed back over the top hat. He walked you back to the main grounds where you friend was practically drooling over Felix. 

“Ahh y/n where were y-” Your friend paused looking over the tall handsome man by your side.

You slowly moved towards her, turning back to see Chan bowing politely. “It was a pleasure, but I must prepare.” You nervously raised your hand in response, quickly bowing yourself. “T...thank you.” You quickly rose your head up. Chan’s head was cocked to the side as another smirk laid rest over his lips. “Again, it was my pleasure.” He chuckled slightly making his leave. 

“Well, I should get going to ladies. Please, enjoy the show.” Felix smirked, biting his lower lip as he followed after Chan.

Your friend puts her hands on your shoulders and shakes you. "Who the heck was that?!"

"Woah," you grab her arms, getting her to stop shaking you. "That was Chan. I guess he's the ringleader of this weird place?"

Her mouth drops open in shock but soon collects herself enough to squeal. "Oh my GOD, you captured the eyes of the ringleader?! My girl has got game!" You laugh awkwardly, knowing that's not exactly what happened.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls! Please, make your way to the big top tent, where in ten minutes you will be sure to witness the most amazing acts you have ever seen!"

The loudspeaker blasts through the fair grounds, making the guests all chatter in excitement. Your friend grabs your wrist and pulls you into the crowd that was surging towards the big top tent.

Unbeknownst to you, two pairs of eyes follow your movements, anticipating what's about to come.

[sodone-withlife]

glass is fragile

Criminal Minds Fic Part Two

| PART 1 | PART 2 |

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: implied character death

Notes: cross-posted on Ao3. this is the result of a random idea I had because while I love Hotchniss, I love the idea of the two meeting in college and keeping in contact with Hotch being an overprotective brother

fortuna vitrea est; tum cum splendet frangitur  (fortune is glass; just when it gleams brightest it shatters) - Publilius Syrus

“I’ve got five names on the bottom of the list Prentiss gave us,” Morgan said, walking towards the case board. “Luke Renault, Lawrence Riley, Lyla Rafferty, Lyle Rogers, Landon Raines.”

“All with the initials L.R.” Seaver pointed out.

“The CIA uses cryptograms like that to assign non-official cover agents working the same case,” Hotch remarked.

“So do other foreign countries,” Morgan added. “These last five names are covers—spies,” he said, pointing at the document.

“Wait,” Garcia said, taking the document. “No, this isn’t right,” she said, pointing at the page. “Do you see this space? That shouldn’t be here.”

“Could it be a formatting error?” Reid asked.

“No, this is a spreadsheet template,” Garcia answered. “Formatting doesn’t allow for this, there’s a missing name on here.”

“It’s another spy whose cover is L.R.” Hotch said quietly, looking to the elevator and mentally preparing to give the looming long-winded explanation.

“‘Lauren Reynolds is dead,’” Reid said aloud behind him.

“What?” Hotch turned around in shock, having not heard that name spoken aloud in years.

“‘Lauren Reynolds is dead,’” Reid repeated, “Prentiss said that on a phone call seventeen days ago, but her intonation wasn’t surprise or grief, it was like a mantra, like she was reminding herself.”

As Reid continued talking, Hotch pulled out his phone and dialed her number, hoping like hell his hunch about what she's doing is just that—a hunch.

“If Prentiss is the last name on that list, she’s on Doyle’s list, too,” Seaver said.

Hotch followed the sound of a ringtone to Emily’s desk and opened the first drawer. “Guys,” he cut into the team’s discussion, holding the gun and badge she’d left behind out for them to see.

“She left her badge and gun? Why would she do that?” Morgan asked, confused. Hotch placed them back down and grabbed his other phone, pulling up his messages.

<< It’s T, isn’t it.

>>He’s going after us, he’s threatened the others.

<<Blackbird.

<<Where are you?

<<What are you doing?

>>I’m sorry.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Reid turned back to the others, uncomprehending. “Why run? We’re her family, we can help.”

“Doyle’s killing families,” Rossi pointed out in realization. “She’s not married, not close to relatives—”

“Last night, Doyle verbally threatened to kill us,” Hotch said, looking up as his worry for Emily’s safety returned in full force.

“How do you know that?” Morgan asked suspiciously. In response, Hotch held out his phone and played the recording Emily had sent over last night.

“Aaron, Doyle mentioned all of us except you. Why?” Rossi asked, noting the distinct lack of any threat directed at the unit chief. Hotch didn’t answer, looking out through the glass doors towards the elevators. The others followed his line of sight.

“JJ?” Garcia stood up and dashed over to the long-missed blonde, who was standing in the doorway.

“I’ve called the State Department for permission to have someone come over and shed light on Emily’s past. Officially, I can’t tell you anything,” Hotch told the profilers who were staring in shock, “but JJ can.”

~~~

“Okay, so I talked to a friend from Langley, he couldn’t give me Emily’s full CIA history, but he could give me this,” JJ said, turning to the TV screen. “She assumed the identity of Lauren Reynolds as part of a special task force called JTF-12.”

“I heard about them,” Rossi remarked, “They were profiling terrorists, weren’t they?”

“Yeah,” JJ answered. “Assembled after 9/11, CIA and Western agencies contributed their ‘best and brightest’.”

“But serial killers and terrorists have different personality traits,” Seaver pointed out.

“How does Doyle fit in?” Reid asked.

“He was their last case,” JJ said, “and now the JTF is on his hit list.”

“Jeremy Wolff was victim number one, from Germany’s BND,” she began, focusing on the pictures on the screen. “Sean McAlister at Interpol was the second and was the one who brought the JTF in on Doyle. He was murdered last week in Brussels with his wife and daughter,” JJ said softly, flicking a brief look at Hotch, who had squashed down his reaction.

“Tsia Mosely of France’s DCRI—she got engaged to Jeremy earlier this year and fled here when he died,” JJ continued and sent another look at Hotch, who took a breath and steeled himself for the barrage of accusations and questions he was sure to get.

His picture appeared on the screen.

“Hotch?” They turned to look at him in confused shock.

“It wasn’t my prerogative to tell you,” he moved around the table and took the remote from JJ, looking at the other profilers. “None of you had the clearance for this, and there wasn’t time between the numerous phone calls I had to make in order to get JJ back here.”

“I understand you have questions, but we need to focus on Emily,” he said firmly, turning to the screen. “Clyde Easter of the British SIS was the leader. I’ve talked to him over the phone twice and he was in DC last I heard, but I haven’t been able to get a hold of him since Tsia’s murder.”

“You were involved in the Doyle case?” Rossi asked. Are you safe? went unasked but was heard by everyone.

“I’m well aware of the danger I am in,” Hotch said, “but if I’m right, he’s going to be too fixated on Emily to care much about me, though I’ve had precautions in place since we first found out he escaped.”

“Did you ever make any arrests? Maybe that’s why he’s after you?”

“No, the host countries always took care of that and we just moved onto the next case. Given the shadowy nature of terrorist cells, we were mostly involved in infiltration.”

“Who was undercover on Doyle?” Reid asked.

“Emily,” JJ answered.“She posed as another weapons dealer and met him in Boston to get intel on Valhalla.” JJ paused, looking at Hotch apprehensively.

He took over, knowing what she was hung up on. “The recon we did on Doyle included a background on all of his previous romantic relationships, and… ” he trailed off, hesitating, “she’s exactly his type.”

~~~

“Prissy, where the hell are you?”

“Oh, is that worry that I hear, Iceman?”

“Blackbird’s in Boston, isn’t she.”

“Is that a question?”

~~~

“Emily walked into a trap,” Garcia said shakily, pointing at the screen. “It looks like Doyle got into the SUV, but from this angle, you can see that he didn’t, which I wish Boston PD would have told me before I started watching it.” She looked at the others apologetically. “Sorry again for the screaming.”

“She threw a flash-bang grenade into a car,” Morgan said incredulously. “She’s lucky the three people inside didn’t die. Is anybody else bothered by that?”

“Well, three bad guys,” Rossi pointed out.

“Illegal as it is, when you’re dealing with the likes of Doyle, who has nothing to lose,” Hotch said softly, staring into space, “you have to be as ruthless as he is and act the same way.”

“So how did Doyle know she was waiting for him?” Rossi asked.

“Well, the mole must have told him, right?” JJ suggested. “The same guy who’s been feeding Doyle the contractors and agents?”

“And our best suspect was just arrested with a suitcase full of cash,” Seaver said.

“Let me take care of Prissy—Clyde,” Hotch amended when the nickname garnered him strange looks. “The rest of you focus on Doyle’s location.”

“I hate to be the one to ask this,” Garcia hesitantly spoke up, looking to Hotch. “But how long does Emily have?”

He remained silent for a moment. “Doyle saved her for last because she is his stressor—she had an intimate connection with him,” Hotch blew out a breath and focused his gaze on the analyst. “He’ll take his time.”

A horrified silence fell over the group. He stood up, unable to bear the heavy tension and fear, and walked into the jet’s bathroom. He leaned on the counter for support and took a few deep breaths, trying not to spiral into a panic.

“How long have you known Emily?” Rossi asked quietly, having followed behind him.

“Fall of ‘89,” he answered, feeling faint amusement at the older man’s surprise. “Yale; I was an ambitious law school student while she was a goth sophomore student. We saw each other again when I did some work for the Ambassador, then again when JTF was formed. Clyde always referred to me as the overprotective big brother even though she’s a year older than me.”

“Did you know about Emily and…?” Rossi trailed off, unsure as to how he should phrase the question.

“I had my suspicions,” Hotch admitted. “I wasn’t there to see her after she was extracted, but I talked to her afterward, and something was definitely different.”

~~~

“October 2006. ‘In closing, I have never worked with a finer agent than Emily Prentiss. Her skill at analyzing and predicting terrorist behavior is unparalleled.’ Signed, name redacted,” Hotch looked up at the Englishman. “I knew something was off when I read her personnel file those years ago. Buzz words, the like—you sold her to the bureau just like you sold Doyle to the North Koreans.”

Clyde remained silent as Hotch continued to stare at him. “It takes a skilled sociopath to betray his team and the cause he held dear for self-preservation.”

He leaned forward, expression dark. “If anything happens to Emily, I swear I will destroy you, our past history be damned.”

Finally shifting in his spot, Clyde sent an appraising look over Hotch. “You were the best,” he said, “but you’re slipping. I’m disappointed.”

Hotch looked at him dispassionately. “My team and I will get Doyle with or without you. Pack lightly—Guantanamo gets humid.”

He turned away as Clyde chuckled behind him. “Nice try,” the Englishman said, “but I’m curious. If I’m the sociopath, then I should feel no empathy, correct?”

“Oh, you’re not the sociopath,” Hotch corrected him, turning around at the doorway. “Doyle is.”

He carefully looked Clyde up and down. “Weren’t you a better profiler?”

~~~

“Did you know Jeremy sold the list to Doyle?” Hotch asked, sitting across from Clyde.

“I had my suspicions,” Clyde admitted casually.

“So when you got to DC, you couldn’t trust Tsia, either. Emily and I read your doubt as duplicity,” Hotch said, leaning forward. “Emily is in trouble, and you need to help me brief the team on the original profile so we can combine that with who he is now as a serial killer.”

“Aaron, you know that Doyle is going to escape from one of your American prisons as easily as he did in North Korea,” Clyde retorted. “There is no catching that man, you have to put a bullet in his brain yourself.” He looked at Hotch seriously. “You, as an FBI agent, took an oath to protect the laws of your country. Can you break your oath, Agent Hotchner?”

Hotch shook his head, understanding his intent and opting for a different answer.

“I can take one.”

There was a knock on the door, which opened to show JJ. “The British consul’s here,” she told the men.

“Could you tell him I’ll be right out?” Clyde requested, not looking away from Hotch. “I’m consulting with the BAU on a case.”

~~~

The profilers stood around quickly set up table and case boards in the Boston field office, Clyde and Hotch at the head of the table.

“Ian Doyle is a power-assertive psychopath. Highly controlling and very explosive when something doesn’t go as planned,” Clyde informed them.

“Okay, so how does this fit in with who he is as a family annihilator?” Seaver asked.

“And Prentiss’ role in it,” Rossi added.

“Annihilators have a romanticized view of who their family is,” Reid suggested.

“Actually,” Hotch interrupted, “he was an orphan.”

“Well, they think of family as their possession until some law shatters that and starts them killing,” Morgan offered.

“Doyle was never married,” Clyde said.

“Children?” Rossi asked.

“No.”

“You run your profile that he carried out his murders with surgical-like precision,” Reid interjected, holding out a photo of the dead child.

“Yeah.”

“With no collateral damage,” Morgan continued, which Clyde and Hotch confirmed.

Rossi looked up, an idea coming to him. “Perhaps this child was a surrogate for one he had.”

“Say Doyle had a child and you didn’t know about it,” Seaver suggested hypothetically, turning to Clyde. “Is it possible that Prentiss did?”

“Then why would she keep it from me?” Clyde asked as if the idea was inconceivable. Hotch raised an eyebrow and let out a scoff, earning himself a look from the Englishman.

“First name Declan,” Hotch told Garcia, ignoring Clyde. “Adoptive guardian Louise Jones, Doyle’s housekeeper. Emily moved them here to Boston eight years ago and she told me she made sure they’re safe. Anything beyond that, a last name, I don’t know.”

“Declan and his mother went missing seven years ago,” Garcia said, typing rapidly. “Bodies were never found… wait, what’s this?” Multiple pictures popped up on her screen. “God, someone took pictures of them being shot,” she said, horrified.

“Is there an address?” Hotch demanded.

“That looks like a warehouse,” Garcia said as she entered in the specifiers. “It’s gotta be big enough to house a small army. That’s weapons, supplies, let’s see, which means it has its own perimeter…” she trailed off, hitting enter. “1518 Adams Street,” she read from her screen.

“Hold on, look at the photos,” Reid interjected, taking a closer look at the screen.

“It’s black clothing and a hand, Reid,” Morgan said, confused.

“No, look at the fingernails,” he corrected, pointing to the screen.

Garcia let out a gasp as she realized what Reid was talking about. “Oh my god.”

~~~

“Agent Prentiss is the only friendly in the building,” Hotch briefed the listening agents, ballistics vest on. “Rescuing her is our primary objective.”

“Our only advantage here is stealth,” Morgan said. “Once they know we’re on site, there’s nothing to stop them from killing her, so we keep it quiet until we get to her… ”

~~~

“Cut the power.”

~~~

“I got her!”

~~~

“Come on, stay with me!”

~~~

“She never made it off the table.”

~~~

“You really didn’t have to do this.”

“She’s my friend, and so are you. I want to protect her and make sure you don’t fall under this weight.”

~~~

<< Stay safe

>>You too

~~~

“Prissy, where are you hiding out right now?”

“Good to hear from you too, Iceman. The Golden City. oh, and I know she’s alive.”

“Glad to hear your habits haven’t changed a bit.”

~~~

“How are you doing?”

“The others aren’t as mad as I expected.”

“Red tape, writing up report after report for bureaucrat after bureaucrat, they’re more perceptive than you give them credit for. However, I don’t believe I asked about them, I believe I asked after you.”

“I think cleaning up this mess while trying to go about life with an international criminal potentially out for my blood is a fitting punishment for my failings.”

~~~

“I get it. We’re a family, and it’s important that families talk, and holding it in will just make this sick, sad feeling of awfulness more awful,” Garcia said, “right?”

Hotch allowed himself a brief upturn of his lips at her rambling before sobering up. “Internalizing does make it worse,” he agreed.

“I’ll talk, but I don’t want to talk about her being gone,” Garcia said softly. “Can I talk about how she made me smile?”

A pang shot through Hotch’s heart at her hopeful question as he thought back on the close relationship the women had with each other.

“Of course.”

~~~

“The last time I was on a couch like this was when my father left,” Reid mused quietly. “They all thought I needed to talk, but developmentally I wasn’t guided by conscience—I could only reveal what my mother and my teachers told me was acceptable.”

“You told them exactly what they wanted to hear,” Hotch summed up, not showing just how much that hit home. “You don’t have to do that here. Yell, curse at me, whatever you need to do.”

The genius swallowed. “It’s just unfair that she’s gone,” he said, barely holding back tears. “It’s like if we can’t keep each other safe, then why are we even doing any of this?”

Hotch remained silent as Reid continued. “It’s… sometimes I think maybe—maybe Gideon was right, you know. Maybe…” he trailed off, staring into space. “Maybe it’s just not worth it.”

~~~

Morgan sighed, leaning back on the couch. “So I came in here to do what? Talk about losing Emily?” He shook his head when he received no answer. “Strauss put you up to this?”

“The assessment’s routine,” Hotch finally said. “I asked her to let me do it rather than bring in somebody from the outside. Thought it might be preferred, even with my role in this mess.”

“So let me guess—it’s about the five stages of grief,” Morgan let out a breath. “You want to figure out where we all are.”

Hotch looked at him expectantly, remaining silent, much to Morgan’s annoyance.

“All right,” Morgan said, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. “Denial. I’m fine, this can’t be happening to me—well it didn’t happen to me, did it?” he started. “So that rules that out. What else is there—bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. Well, obviously, I haven’t accepted it, otherwise I wouldn’t be in here,” he looked at Hotch. “So where does that leave me?”

“Angry.”

“Angry,” he repeated. “Yeah. Yeah, sometimes I feel like I want to quit my job and spend my time chasing down the son of a bitch who killed Emily. You’re damn right I’m angry,” he declared, anger pouring out of every word before he deflated.

“Sixty seconds,” Morgan breathed out, shaking his head in self-recrimination. “If I had gotten there sixty seconds earlier, Emily might still be with us.”

“Derek, you know that you did everything you could—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I did everything I could. We all did. I know,” he snapped. “What, that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“You protected each other for years, don’t expect this to go away anytime soon,” Hotch told him.

“This what? This—this guilt?”

“Just because you were the last one there doesn’t mean that you could affect the outcome,” Hotch said. “We all wish we had that kind of control.”

“So what do we do, we just chalk it up to fate?” Morgan looked at Hotch incredulously. “What, I can’t blame anybody? What, this is the will of God? No. I do blame somebody, I blame Doyle.”

At a loss, Hotch remained silent, hiding the guilt that threatened to swallow him in the face of Morgan’s grief.

“Hotch, what am I supposed to do?” Morgan finally asked, voice breaking. “I lost my friend right in front of me, and I’m supposed to go on like nothing happened?” He shook his head, taking in a shuddering breath. “You know, we—we come in here, and we talk to you,” he turned to Hotch and asked, “Where do you go?”

Hotch glanced down as Morgan continued, “Where are you with all this?”

“Same place as you,” the unit chief looked back up, a mutual understanding passing between them. “Wishing she was here.”

~~~

“There are benefits to meeting after hours,” Rossi commented, raising his glass of scotch and taking a drink.

Hotch looked down at his own glass. “You know everybody’s feeling it, and nobody wants to talk about it.”

“It’s too soon, Aaron. You know that better than anyone,” the older profiler sent him a look. “And, uh, doesn’t Strauss usually run these assessments?”

“There was no way that was going to happen,” Hotch said firmly to Rossi’s brief chuckle.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” he said, as Hotch took a long drink out of his own glass. “And I also know that you grieve privately. But,” Rossi paused, looking at him solemnly, “you’ve been through more than any of us in a very short time. How are you holding up?”

“I’m all right,” Hotch repeated three words that had become a mantra, briefly glancing at Rossi. “I think it’s an ongoing process,” he said, thinking about the mess he was buried under after the events of the past year.

“This is not my assessment,” he looked at Rossi in reproach, “I’m supposed to be asking how you’re doing.”

A corner of Rossi’s lips briefly tilted up before he looked back down as he thought about what to say. “I’ve always had trouble letting people in,” he began slowly and shook his head. “But this is different. I guess I’ve come to realize… I’m more married to this team than I ever was to three ex-wives.” They shared a brief moment of amusement as his quip.

“It’s been a hard year,” Hotch finally said quietly. “We’ll get through it.”

“Yeah, we will,” Rossi agreed, lifting his glass in a toast. “Emily and Haley.”

Hotch raised his own, the two lapsing into heavy silence.

~~~

I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I’m sorry I’m sorrysorrysorry—

He threw the blanket off himself and got up from where he was laying on the couch to walk over to his desk, glancing out into the dark bullpen as he went. He sat down and started going through the stack of unfinished reports in an attempt to ward off the thoughts that have plagued him since that painful day two months ago.

I’ve failed you, Blackbird.

I hope you’re safe out there.

~~~

“Believe me, everyone who tried to save him that day isn’t going to forget. It’s the day they failed. They’ll ask themselves what they could have done—could they have gotten there sooner? They’ll heal, but it’s going to take time. They’ll move on, but they won’t forget.”

~~~

“Over the next few weeks, each of you is going to be asked if you’d like to stay with the unit,” Hotch informed them.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Reid asked, confused.

“There are other options for you out there,” Hotch answered. “And while I want the unit to stay together, I understand completely if you want to see what the alternatives are. Morgan, there’s renewed interest in you from the New York office.”

Morgan looked surprised. “Nobody’s called me.”

“They will.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to go,” he said slowly.

“Oh, I know,” Hotch said evenly.

“Are you staying here?” Seaver asked Hotch.

“It’s my intention to,” but we’ll have to see what happens with Doyle. He felt Rossi’s eyes land on him, knowing that the man would have caught his careful word choice.

Either way, there’s a high chance I’m going to be overseas soon.

~~~

“Has he ever left before us?”

“He technically isn’t leaving—he’s still in danger and doesn’t have the luxury of going into hiding, so he’s been rotating through the Academy dorms.”

“Jack?”

“He’s been staying with the Brooks family. Hotch implemented as many security measures as he could and has been visiting as often as he can.”

~~~

“Hotchner.”

“Hey, it’s me,” Morgan’s voice came over the phone. “How’s it going out there?”

“Got to Pakistan a few days ago, so far long days, some territorial issues to work out, nothing surprising,” Hotch answered, straining to hear Morgan over the helicopters whirring overhead. “How’s everything there?”

“Hotch, we found Declan Doyle.”

“What?”

“Listen, I knew finding the kid was the only way I could find Doyle,” Hotch was silent, mind immediately straying to the potential ramifications. “I know what you’re thinking, man.”

“Is Declan safe?” he finally settled on asking.

“Yeah, he is for now. I’ve had surveillance at his house and his school for a few weeks.”

“Morgan, I didn’t authorize this—”

“I know you didn’t, Hotch, but listen to me. I think Doyle may have found Declan, too.”

Hotch shook his head. “All right, I’m coming back.”

“You want me to wait?” Morgan asked incredulously.

“Morgan, fixated on his son as he may be, Doyle is still incredibly smart and meticulous,” Hotch reminded. “You make sure you have eyes on Doyle from all angles. If you take him alive, keep him under constant surveillance and limit his contact with other people, even if they’re our own.”

~~~

“Prissy, Doyle’s in custody and under constant watch. You can come out of whatever hole you’ve crawled into.”

“Dare I ask how you got to him?”

“I’m still in Pakistan, I didn’t do anything. The team took care of it.”

~~~

<<Time to come back, Blackbird.

>>You got V?

<<Looking for his K.

>>I just got a call from K’s caretaker. What happened?

>>Iceman.

<<K disappeared

~~~

“Welcome back, sir.”

“Thank you,” Hotch turned around to see the brightly-dressed analyst hurrying towards him with a folder under her arm. “What have you got?”

“A top-ten list of Doyle’s enemies.”

“Anybody recently in the States?” he looked through, recognizing the names.

“Richard Gerace’s been here a few weeks,” she answered. “He’s a low-level gun-runner who angrily crossed paths with Doyle. I caught an image of him on the surveillance camera at Declan’s house and confirmed it was him through a scar on his neck. Have you come across him before?” Garcia asked, referring to his time with JTF.

“I don’t think so,” Hotch shook his head. “Get me everything you can on Gerace.”

“Yeah,” Garcia hesitated, “what I just told you is everything I’ve got.” Hotch nodded and briskly walked around her out of the conference room.

He made his way to where they were holding Doyle and walked up to the window next to Rossi.

“Well, that’s a good look,” Rossi commented on his beard. Hotch allowed a brief smile to appear on his face while he texted Morgan, who was inside with Doyle. “How was the desert?”

“Hot,” Hotch replied shortly, still able to feel sand in his combat boots and the sun beating down on his back.

“Doyle’s here, so have you seen Jack yet?”

“No, Jessica took him on a road trip, they’re at Hershey Park right now,” Hotch said, still occupied with his messaging.

“Well, he’ll love that beard,” Rossi looked over at him.

“Yeah, we skyped every day,” Hotch said dryly, looking back at the older man. “He’s not a fan.”

~~~

>>C just called to check in. On the way right now.

<<See you in a bit

>>If I survive the others

<<Blackbird, I made this decision, I am responsible for this. It’s my burden to bear, but I’d do it all over again if it means having you alive.

<<Oh, and J came back fourteen weeks ago. As a profiler, now.

>>What? And you’re just telling me this now?

<<Didn’t find out until I got somewhere with secure service, and that was a week ago.

<<We’ve really missed you.

~~~

“Welcome back,” Morgan greeted Hotch.

“Thanks,” Hotch said, steeling himself. “Everybody, have a seat.”

The profilers looked at him strangely. “Why?” Morgan asked. “What’s going on? Everything all right?”

“Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team,” Hotch crossed his arms. “As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle, but the doctors were able to stabilize her and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.”

He continued on, watching as different emotions appeared on the teams’ faces as they realized what he was saying. “I called Clyde and we met with the brass while she was being flown over, and it was decided that her identity was strictly need-to-know, and she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. Given the danger Doyle posed, she was reassigned to Paris, where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”

“She’s alive?” Garcia asked, hopeful shock clear in her voice. Hotch’s silence spoke volumes.

“But we buried her,” Reid said, uncomprehending.

Hotch looked directly at Morgan. “As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision, and if anyone has any issues, they should be directed towards me.”

“Any issues?” Morgan repeated in angry incredulity. “Yeah, I got issues,” he trailed off when he noticed the others looking behind him.

“Oh my god,” Garcia breathed, tears rolling down her face at the sight of Emily Prentiss in the doorway. She stood up and rushed over, enveloping the woman in a careful hug, as if she were going to disappear.

“I am so sorry,” Emily said, as the analyst let go of her so Reid could take her place. “I really am. Not a day went by that I didn’t want to…” she trailed off, catching sight of Morgan’s expression. “Really, I—” she approached him, hoping he’ll understand, “you didn’t deserve that, and I’m so sorry.”

She leaned in, hugging him tightly as Morgan slowly returned the hug through his shock. They stayed like that for a few moments before she backed away and turned to the others. “There’s so much I want to tell you guys, and I will, I promise, but right now I really need to know what’s going on with Declan,” she said, walking to stand next to Hotch and JJ.

“Emily, was there a man living at the house?” Reid pushed forward to ask.

“Yes, my friend Tom Koehler, he was raising Declan as his own.”

“Where is he?” JJ asked from the side.

“I never saw him go in or out of that house,” Garcia told her.

“He was on assignment overseas,” Emily said.

“But he’s all right?” JJ checked.

“Yes,” Emily confirmed, “He’s on his way back now. He got a call from Declan, he called me, and Hotch texted me just moments later telling me you had Doyle in custody.”

“And because of Tom’s line of work, that’s why you enrolled Declan in a boarding school,” Hotch said.

“I made sure that he, Louise, and I were the only ones allowed to take him off campus.”

“Louise took him home last night because he was sick,” Reid told her.

“Food poisoning,” Hotch interjected.

“Yeah, a few of the kids had it, apparently, so whoever did this got to him on campus. They knew they only had one chance.”

“Current suspect is Richard Gerace,” JJ said, “he’s the most recent arrival into the states. We’ve been tracking his progress through the city, but we came up empty.”

“We know it’s him because he has the scar,” Garcia added.

“That doesn’t make sense, Gerace gave up on Doyle a long time ago,” Emily stated.

Rossi spoke up, “He said you were the only one who knew Gerace.”

“Which is why I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have the balls to pull this off,” she said. “There was no forced entry at the house?”

“I had two agents working security,” Morgan said.

“We think Gerace and his partner pose as the next shift, and one of the agents was a woman,” Reid told her.

Emily’s response came quick. “She’s the alpha.”

“So we’re looking for a woman who’s getting back at Doyle,” JJ summarized.

“Well, our suspect list just got a whole lot longer,” Hotch remarked, exchanging a sardonic look with Emily, who nodded in agreement.

~~~

“Is Strauss still there?” Hotch asked over the phone, striding outside towards the parked SUVs.

“She is.”

“We need full support.”

“Doyle said McDermott’s family imported weapons to a private airfield in Maryland,” Emily said.

“Close?”

“Largo.”

“All right, send me the coordinates. Oh, and Emily?” Hotch added.

“Yeah?”

“It’s good to have you back, Blackbird.”

~~~

“Hotch, are we really going to do this?” Morgan’s voice came over his earpiece.

“No one leaves here,” Hotch said firmly into his mic, keeping a careful eye on the proceedings.

~~~

“Iceman.”

“Blackbird,” Hotch returned as Emily approached him at the side of the conference room, having escaped the others’ excitement at her return. He looked her up and down, taking in the welcome sight before pulling her into a tight hug. The others fell silent, watching them clutch to each other like a lifeline in an embrace that spoke of a deep familiarity.

“You did all that you could,” she told him quietly, as their grip on each other loosened slightly, “thank you.”

A few traitorous tears slipped out of his eyes, which he had squeezed shut. Hotch kept his head at the crook of her neck, taking in the familiar warmth that reassured him of her presence.

“It’s so good to see you.”

[theolddarkmachine]

Dead Space- You’ve Got Red on You (An Interlude)

It starts the day the hero falls. Crashing in a blaze of glory of twisted metal and burning ozone, he leaves a scar on the Earth that changes everything.

And Keith sees it all.

Chapter 5 of 11

Tags: attempted Horror Elements, Zombies, Violence and Gore, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending i swear

Also on AO3

A/N: Now I just wanna watch Shaun of the Dead lol

******************************

“This is your captain speaking,” a voice says over the intercom, filled with confidence and mirth. It causes Shiro to roll his eyes, quickening his pace down the short hall between the living space and the stairs up towards the cockpit.

“Matt,” Shiro warns as he takes the steps two at a time, his frame cresting over the top of the stairs in time to see the junior science officer lean forward toward the mic to speak again. Shoulders going tight at the sound of his name, he spins in the seat, hands up in surrender and a wide smile stretched across his lips.

“Oh, hey man, fancy seeing you here,” he says cheerily. “You hear that random announcement on the com? Weird right? Wonder who would ever do such a thing.”

Even as Shiro shakes his head, he can’t help the way his own mouth stretches around a toothy grin.

“How many times do me and Commander Holt have to tell you to not mess with anything in the cockpit?” He says, painting his tone an authoritative color as he drops himself into the seat beside Matt. Gaze lingering on his friend’s smile, a sharp pang of melancholy pinches at the center of his chest.

It’s a longing sort of pain, almost as if he misses him, even though he’s right there in front of him.

A bright sound of shock drops from the ‘o’ shape of Matt’s mouth as he clutches at the center of his chest.

“Dost mine ears deceive me? Are you accusing me of messing around?” Matt huffs, barely able to bite back the laugh that hangs at the end of his words. Eyebrow twitching upward in silent answer, Shiro watches as Matt tilts his head back and laughs in earnest.

“Alright, alright, it was me, officer,” he says around his boisterous mirth, holding his wrists together and offering them out to Shiro, “take me to the brig.”

Rolling his eyes heavenward, he pushes Matt’s hands away.

“Just don’t mess with any of the comm settings,” Shiro says lowly, turning toward the screen before him and quickly tapping his way into the encrypted system. The calm grey of the screen gives way to a blue before an error flashes briefly across the screen. Angry and red, it blinks quickly before disappearing, replaced instead by the 3D scans of the areas listed for exploration that day.

“Did you see that?” Shiro breathes, leaning himself closer to the screen as if it might bring the warning back to life.

“Absolved of my crimes by the golden boy,” Matt prattles on cheerfully, ignoring Shiro’s question as he leans an elbow on the metallic surface before him. Pressing his cheek into his open palm, gaze still set on Shiro.

“Very funny,” he replies drily, eyes leaving the screen long enough to see the way Matt is watching him closely. Even with his cheery tone, his mouth is downturned into a deep frown. It’s almost unnatural, the way it juxtaposes the bright nature of his voice. His question about the error message dries on his tongue as a chill dances along his spine.

“What?” Shiro hears himself ask instead, attention frozen on the brunette as he watches his brows pull together in confusion.

After a moment’s hesitation, he slowly shakes his head.

“I just miss you, man,” Matt says lowly, gaze never leaving him. Sharp shards slide through his veins, filling him with stinging unease as red flashes at the corner of his eye. Turning back toward the screen, he’s met by the tepid blue of the maps.

“What?” Shiro asks again, this time under his breath.

“Matt, how many times do I have to tell you to not touch the comms,” a voice, calm and fond, says behind them as they’re joined by their third colleague. Spinning his chair to face the entrance, Shiro’s gaze finds the older man’s frame as he breaches the threshold of the cockpit.

Commander Samuel Holt.

While also his commanding officer, Sam was so much more than that. He had been there when Shiro had entered the Garrison with stars in his eyes and head higher than the clouds.

Sam had been there for him a few years later when he’d gotten the call that his grandfather had passed, helping keep him together when he was hellbent on falling apart.

The older man had even been there for him when the Garrison had threatened to pull the plug on any involvement Shiro might have in any further expeditions because of his disease.

Sam Holt was more than just a military official, a mentor, or even a friend. He had been a light at the end of a long stretch of dark tunnel, one that had helped Shiro keep his head up even in the toughest of times.

Another sharp pang seizes his lungs as Sam’s gaze flicks to him quickly as he offers him a small smile and tilt of his chin.

“But dad,” Matt starts, exaggerated petulance laced between his words before he’s cut off.

“It’s commander during work hours, kiddo,” Sam says, earning a loud moan as his son pushes himself higher in his seat and gives a weak salute.

“Yes, sir,” he bites out with a snarking smile.

It’s so blasé, and mundane, a singular moment in a lifetime of father-son moments that Shiro has grown oh so familiar with over the years of family dinner with the Holts. Yet it still pierces between his ribs, pointed directly at the meat of his heart as it slides cleanly through.

“How are we looking this morning, Shiro?” Sam asks, leaving his son’s statement hanging in the air as he drops down into the seat on the other side of Shiro. Slowly swiveling his chair to face him, Shiro notes the reflection of the screen in his glasses.

“We’re looking good, sir,” Shiro starts, words drying up on his tongue as the reflection turns a bloody red, painting Sam’s eyes black. His own eyes widening at the sight, Shiro whips his head to the screen, only to see the 3D map still standing proud and untouched before him.

“Shiro?” Sam’s voice is a worried hush as he speaks his name, turning it into a question.

“I think the system may be on the fritz, sir,” Shiro answers slowly, eyes searching the different lines of the map for any form of answer before turning his attention back to Sam. “There’s an error message that keeps popping up, but it disappears almost as soon as it shows up.”

Something dark twists across Sam’s, marring his usually kind features with a look of flashing anger that makes Shiro’s blood go cold. It only lasts for a second, the shadow that darkens his face tempering into cool amusement almost as quickly as it came.

Chuckling low, he just shakes his head and turns his attention away.

“Sounds like someone hasn’t been getting much sleep,” Sam says, fingers flying across the keyboard before him to log himself into the system.

“No, sir, I don’t think that’s it, I think—”

“Matt, have you heard from your sister recently?” Sam asks ignoring Shiro as he speaks over him toward his son.

It’s a dismissal if he’s ever heard one.

A thick layer of foreboding tickles at the back of his throat as he tries to keep his focus on the screen before him.

“Since she last reported in about Bae Bae being an unholy terror?” Matt answers him, leaning back in his chair and splaying his long legs in front of him before dropping his head back to stare up at the ceiling.

The lights above them flicker then, bathing the cockpit in darkness for the length of a breath.

“Did you guys see that?” Shiro asks, sitting straighter in his seat and looking around the room. He feels the pulse of his heart amplified through him, and tastes the metallic tang of panic.

Sam laughs lowly.

“That damned dog,” he says fondly, fingers still clicking loudly at the keyboard as if Shiro hadn’t spoken at all.

The lights flicker again, the darkness stretching a brief moment longer before coming back to life.

“Matt?” Shiro questions, turning toward his friend as his heart thuds painfully in his throat. Sweat coats his palms, leaving them slick as his hands curl into fists in a vain attempt to ground himself.

“Mom and Katie say they love you,” Matt replies, tone bored as he prattles off the contents of his sister’s last transmission.

Bloody red flashes, large and all encompassing, on every screen before them, painting the cockpit a sick shade as Shiro feels his pulse stall before picking up in triple time. Ever so slowly, he turns his attention to the one in front of him.

The error message blinks once, twice, a third time. Each time to the same beat of his heart, urging it quicker and quicker as the message stays on the screen.

“What?” He hears himself say, his single word lost to the stretch of silence around him. It lays heavy and thick over him, pressing down into his skin and leaving him petrified in his seat.

“They say they love you too, Shiro,” Matt finally says, his voice twisting and snarling in a way that makes him shudder. Slowly, Shiro turns to face him just in time to see his friend’s head snap up to stare at him.

His eyes are dull, the honey color clouded by something altogether inhuman as he stares right through him.

Jolting upright, Shiro slams his hands down on the metal before him as he pushes himself out of his chair.

“What the fuck is going on?” He yells, snapping his attention back and forth between the Holts that flank his sides.

A silence freezes the cockpit as even the low hum of the air system fades into nothingness. Twin stares bore deep into Shiro’s core as he manages one last look between the two men before the lights cut, leaving him in darkness.

A light feeling fills his stomach, leaving him feeling weightless in the heavy black. Lost to the helpless feeling of floating, he struggles to move and feel for anything that might help ground him, but he never seems to reach anything. He’s lost to the unending depths of dark space, and his breath rushes from him in sharp gasps that still don’t manage to reach his ears.

Panic, bright like lightning, chokes him as he reaches, reaches, reaches for something. Anything.

Please, he thinks, as his lungs burn.

Please.

The lights come back to life, leaving his sight a bright white.

“What—” Shiro starts, blinking the spots out of his vision quickly only to be met by both Holts standing just in front of him.

Black veins snake and twist under their nearly translucent skin, and their eyes are clouded, grey and lifeless as they stare directly at him. Sam’s neck is caught at an impossible angle, the knob of his spine poking up against the skin as his head hangs to the side. Frozen beneath their dead stares, Shiro watches as Matt’s cracked, flaking lips slowly pull into a too wide smile that reveals teeth stained crimson.

The scream of metal twisting and tearing pierces through the hull, and Shiro jolts awake.

Chest heaving rapidly with the quickness of his breath, his eyes darts wildly around the room. It’s dark, but not in the same unnatural way of his dream. A bare light still manages to peek through the sheet hanging across the door, turning the night darkened room a solemn grey in opposition to the unending black that had stained his eyelids in his dream.

Working to settle his breathing back into something closer to normal, Shiro lets himself feel the thin mattress beneath his frame, and the threadbare sheets that tickle at his back where his shirt has ridden up.

They were both a minor luxury they were afforded due to his compliance with Katie’s— Pidge now, he reminds himself— request of blood samples. At the time, he had just been thankful that they finally had a spot to rest that wasn’t the desert floor, but now he’s even more so as the soft, worn surfaces help pull him entirely from the nightmare.

Breath slowly evening, Shiro sits up and lets his gaze find the sleeping form at his side. The soft, grey light from the hall touches Keith’s features, casting him with a peaceful look that he hasn’t seen since he’d returned.

Finally, he thinks to himself as he times his breathing with Keith’s.

Letting out a low sigh, Shiro turns his gaze from the man at his side, sliding it down to the gloved hands in his lap. The same, soft grey light filters across his palms, giving his eyes just enough illumination as he slowly pulls the leather back from his left hand.

Black veins, swollen and painful, stand stark against the pallid, deathly color of his skin.

Swallowing down the bile that sears at the back of his throat, he pulls the glove back down, hiding the truth with worn leather before leaning his back against the cool wall at the head of the bed.

Taking a deep breath, Shiro settles in for a sleepless night.

********************

[amydancepants-peralta]

6, 11, or 24 from cliche prompts :)

Hi there, Anon!  First off I’m very sorry that it has taken me so long to come up with a response to this one.  I just couldn’t figure it out.  🤦🏼‍♀️  But here we have it:  Cliche Post Prompt #6 - Jolting awake after a nightmare and being comforted. (Big thanks to @fezzle and @b99peraltiago for your help with this one!)

Set during s4, ‘Crime and Punishment’ - the night before Jake’s conviction.

save tonight (fight the break of dawn)

When it all began, Amy’s fortnightly trip to the local library had felt just like all the others.  

She had raised her hand in greeting to the librarian as she passed (a woman named Moira, who was not her favourite to be honest - Adriana was far more precise with her book stacking skills), fighting back a blush as she walked past the private study room: aka, the room that she and Jake had occupied for the evening during his six month anniversary surprise for her.  Every time she passed it, Amy was reminded of the steamy kisses they had shared that evening (and okay yes, maybe some other stuff happened, but that was a secret between the two of them and the books in that room, okay?!).  

Her legs carried her quickly over to the literary classics, knowing that her heart craved the celebrated words of some of her favourite authors, and before long she was breathing in the familiar scent of tales older than time.  Then, a noticeable error caused her to take pause.  

For there, in between the Tolstoy and the Tolkien, sat a novel where title was not visible, but the author’s name was - and it clearly started with an F.  Dammit, Moira.  With a shake of her head Amy moved to grab and move the offending item, before she noticed that the author next to this book started with an I.  Beside that, an author with a G.  Then another G, back to an I, ending inexplicably in an S.  And she couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something about the combination of those letters that filled her with a sense of dread.  

Her fingers dug into the curved spine of the novels, grabbing all six and pulling them away from the shelf, only to discover a brightly coloured map of Florida pasted to the shelf behind.  

Vandalism in the literary section?  

What on earth was going on? 

She realised that it was all a dream when the buzzing of a neon sign finally broke through the silence.  Swivelling in place, Amy read Welcome to the Slaughterhouse, random letters flickering like a stammering heartbeat.  Beneath the sign a prized pig, its hooves still covered in slop, paced the library floor.  She moved towards it, and it cantered off with an exaggerated squeal.  Her head began to shake as the disorientation washed over her.  None of this was logical.  And this was not the library she knew and loved.  

A scratching feeling in her skin made her look down at her arm, and Amy blinked in confusion at her left hand holding a pen, writing Flaxton Hill all over her other forearm.  Her fingers flexed as they dropped the instrument, pen fading into the background before it ever hit the floor.  Yeah.  Definitely a dream.  

The lights above her began to dance before dimming completely, the welcome sign casting a red haze over the room and Amy feels her chest tightening, head shaking again as she’s suddenly overcome with the need to find her way out of this dream before it turns into a nightmare.  

Jake’s voice cuts through the pounding sound of her heartbeat.  “Ames.”

Her hands are still gripping the books she removed from the shelf and she turns to her left, where she thought the sound came from, but he isn’t there.  The fluorescent bulbs above her switch from low to high again and she blinks, holding the books against her forehead as she shelters herself from the light, trying desperately to ground herself.

“Babe.”  His voice calls out again, and Amy drops the novels without a second thought, pages falling open at her feet as she twists to the right.  Jake’s there, smiling behind the book shelves, his face so perfectly calm that she can feel herself relax, finally safe in the knowledge that he is here - that whatever this place was, they were in it together.

She realises that this dream is actually a nightmare when she reaches for Jake, arm stretching out across the shelves, fingertips barely touching before the spines of the books turn black, multiples merging into thick lines, dark in colour and metallic in texture as the shelves squeeze closer together, settling with a clang that reverberates across the building.  Their hands snatch away from the middle as a bitter coldness fills the air; overhead lights switching off completely - the neon sign turning the room a palpably ominous red, and in a matter of seconds there are thick black bars separating her from the love of her life.  

She runs along the former bookshelves, calling out his name as the bars grow longer, library extending until there is no end in sight, and no matter how hard she tries, she just. can’t. get to him.

“It’s okay, babe,” he tells her, running along beside her, and she looks at him as though he’s crazy because it’s not okay, because how could it be okay?, and there are diamonds falling from the ceiling and the strange smell of Blue Rad-Berry slushie taking over her senses and absolutely nothing makes sense anymore.  

He calls her name one last time, and she feels his hand on her shoulder - which is impossible, because he’s still on the other side of those bars, and she lets out a gasp, squeezing her eyes shut as everything fades to black.

Her heart is somewhere up in her throat when she opens her eyes again, pushing herself up from the mattress as her lungs fight to regain control in the darkness.  She can feel Jake’s hand on her back, warm and comforting, stroking her gently through her (his) old academy shirt, and she times her breaths to match his movement - up and down, in and out.  

His voice, soft and yet so loud in the darkness, is laced with concern.  “You okay, Ames?”

Amy turns slightly, chin resting on her shoulder, and she nods, giving him a smile that she’s not sure he can see through the darkness.  His eyes shine through the dark, edges crinkling as he smiles back, and she reaches back for his hand, gripping it tightly when it leaves her back.  Her palm is clammy, her body still covered in the cold sweat that had washed over her body while she fought her way out of the terror, but he only squeezes harder.

She had been seven years old when the night terrors began.  With her parents stepping out for a long overdue date night, her older brothers had been designated in charge for the evening, and had promptly set up a horror movie in the basement.  Relegating her to her bedroom, with the declaration that she was Too Young to be watching such movies, both Miguel and Tony had been naive enough to believe that their younger sister would stay in her room like her brothers.  For even then, Amy Santiago wasn’t interested in somebody else telling her what she could and could not see.  

So under the cover of darkness, she had pushed the basement door open, settling herself onto the highest section of the staircase that still afforded her a view of the television, and began watching what would turn out to be the most terrifying movie of her life.

She sat frozen, glued to the steps as the image of a clown with razor sharp teeth flashed onto the screen, and as a yellow raincoat disappeared down a drain she had let out a scream - the loudest, sharpest scream ever uttered: loud enough that within two minutes their neighbours were banging on the front door, absolutely certain that something sinister had befallen one of the Santiago children.

Two things had resulted from that night - her brothers were banished from all future babysitting duties (from which birthed a grudge that Tony would hold against his sister for years to come), and Amy began experiencing increasingly vivid nightmares.  Within weeks, there was a well-worn path between her bedroom and her parents, the solace of Victor and Camila’s arms proving to be the only balm to soothe her pounding heart from the terrors in her mind.

As she grew older, the haunting imagery would change - red balloons floating ominously in the background would turn into tests with red marks of failure on them; hideous monsters with gnashing teeth taking the shape of disappointed superiors and brothers excelling in fields that she could not master.  By the time she was nearing the end of high school, the imagery of her senior portrait moving from the piano to the far end of the staircase was enough to keep her awake at night, hands shaking as they gripped the duvet tighter around her, never quite warm enough when the thought of failure struck true fear into her heart.

Living a life based on rules and structure had provided some relief - for if everything had a set procedure, the danger didn’t have a chance to break through.  Slowly but surely, the more Amy stuck to the rules, the more the night terrors seemed to fade.  And with it, came a life built on order and discipline.  

And then, along came Jake.  And suddenly the straight and narrow didn’t seem so appealing.  

There had been a part of her that had expected the nightmares to return when she starting dating him - when the rules began to bend, and the sharp edges of her future plans began to soften.  Instead, she slept peacefully: sometimes dreaming of sweeter moments between the two of them, other times simply content to feel his presence next to her.  Truth be told, the terrors continued to stay far away until Jake was in Witsec - when the cold and otherwise empty sheets would wrap around her feet, gripping her to the mattress as horrifying images of Jake in endlessly dangerous situations in unknown locations attacked her repeatedly.  Towards the end of their separation, pillows that only smelled faintly of him were pulled closer as the hours of sleep grew lesser, and after his return, and her screams would keep them awake, she’d had to explain it all. 

But even as she told him of her fears - even as she described the imagery her mind would play in a loop, Amy found herself feeling less and less afraid of them.  And as the weeks wore on, and the confusing period of readjustment that resulted from Jake returning to her life played itself out, the terrors began to fade, and Jake vowed to her that she would never need to worry about them again.

Yet here they were, on the eve of his final court hearing, and Amy could feel the flames of fear begin to flicker again.  Because even with the knowledge that Matthew Langdon was safely tucked into a Safe House downtown, resting ahead of his surprise testimony in the morning, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Hawkins’ reign of terror was far from over.

Letting out an exhausted sigh as her breathing finally slows down, Amy flops back down onto the mattress, body turning towards Jake’s as their hands separate.  He runs a hand across his face in a half-hearted attempt to wipe away the tiredness, and studies her carefully when he’s done.  “You sure you’re okay now, babe?”

Amy looks across at him, at this man that had transitioned from annoying coworker to best friend to boyfriend so seamlessly that she struggles to remember a time when his hand didn’t belong in hers, and she nods.

“I’m so sorry for waking you,” she whispers.

One side of his mouth lifts up into an almost convincing smile.  “You didn’t.  I was already awake.”  She waits, knowing by now that sometimes Jake just needs a little more time to find the right words.  Instead, he shrugs.  “Couldn’t sleep.”  

She can feel a thousand unsaid words hanging above them.

Her left hand stretches the short distance, resting against his bicep before running along the dip in his arm.  “We’re going to prove your innocence, Jake.  Tomorrow.  This is all going to be over.”

He nods his head slowly, and as her eyes acclimate better to the darkness, she notices the puffiness around his eyes, and realises with a sinking heart that he had been crying.  “I just …”  His breath comes out in a shudder, and she scoots closer until her forehead is resting against his.  “I don’t want to lose this.”  

They’d made love earlier that evening, neither of them willing to voice the reason behind their passionate kisses, not ready to acknowledge that this wasn’t the same as all the others - that this might be the last time, for a long time, or maybe ever.  And while she’d thrown on his old academy shirt afterwards, because Always Cold Amy was a nickname that she could not shake, their legs had remained bare underneath the blanket, and she wraps hers completely around him now, pulling herself closer until there was nowhere else to go.  

“I know,” she whispers, pulling away slightly so that she can run her thumb along his brow bone, graduating to his forehead to rub away the lines of worry.  “But you’re not going to, Jake.  I meant what I said in the car.  Whatever happens tomorrow.  I’ll wait for you.”

Jake shakes his head, wrapping his right arm around her waist.  His touch is warm, and always welcome.  “It could be 15 years, Ames.  Or more.  I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking me.  I’m telling you.”  His moves his other hand out from under the pillow, seeking hers in return, and not for the first time she imagines a ring adorning his finger.  “You’re the love of my life, Jake Peralta.  I would wait an eternity for you.”  Their fingers intertwine, and she squeezes gently.  She knew that even with their best laid plans, there was a good possibility that tomorrow wouldn’t turn out the way they hoped.  And if there was anything he needed to know, it was this.  “Even if the next time we’re together I’m 75 years old, you’ve got cataracts and my boobs are down to my knees, I would still marry the heck out of you.  I will love you forever, Jake.”

The notion of forever had been something they had tiptoed around at the beginning of their relationship.  While both of them knew (pretty quickly, actually) that what they had together was far greater than anything either had known before, there was still an irrational fear that if one spoke to soon, they would spook the other, and ruin their greatest chance at happiness.  

It had taken four weeks in a prison in Texas, and six months playing pretend in Florida, before forever was the only thing on their mind.  

The change had been subtle, but permanent, and while The Question hadn’t been asked, they both knew what the answer would be.  They were, after all, each other’s soulmates.  (And the first time he’d whispered that word to her, curled up on the couch with the world on mute around them, her heart had landed somewhere amongst the stars.)      

He blinks, and in the close proximity Amy watches a tear escape, pulling her back to the present.  It slides along the edge of his nose uninterrupted, and in a moment Amy realises that no matter what terrifying things might enter her dreams, she could simply banish them with the flutter of her eyelids.  But for Jake, all of his worst fears were coming true right in front of him, and no matter how hard he blinked, they didn’t seem to be going away.  

Shuffling impossibly closer, Amy pulls him in for a kiss, the type of kiss that she can only hope conveys how much he means to him - how certain she is that he is the only one for her, and that regardless of whatever happens tomorrow, they will get through it together.  Because no matter the problem, the love they have for each other is always going to be the answer.  

“I love you so much, Ames.  And … I’m so sorry that I’m putting you through this.”  His voice is shaky, the fear and despair evident, and she’s overcome with the need to just hold him close until everything wrong simply melted away.  

“I love you too, Jake.  But you don’t need to apologise for this.  No path in life is ever smooth, and this is just another bump in our road.”  She says it loud, as clearly as she can, in case it becomes a memory he clings to.  And then a sly grin crosses her face.  “Apologies in advance for the saggy boobs, though.  I know how much you’re a fan of them.”  She whispers, still in close proximity, and his laughter breaks through the silence.  

“I’m a big fan of you, Ames.  I love you so much.  And I love you even more for making a joke about your boobs right now.  You are literally the perfect woman.”  His smile is bright, though brief, and his hand rests against the small of her back when he pulls her in for another kiss.  

The worry is still there on his face when he pulls away, and Amy knows that’s to be expected.  But the only thing uncertain about their future is when it will begin.  They will put on a false bravado in the morning, announce their surprise witness and hope for the best - and ultimately, that is all they can do.

She runs her hand through his hair, sighing contentedly when Jake drops his head to her chest, grip still firm around her waist.  It isn’t long before his breathing is slow and deep, a sure-fire sign of him sleeping, and she follows his lead, fingers still curling around his strands.  

He would be gone by tomorrow afternoon, and with him he takes her heart, but even as she cries herself to sleep in their too-large-for-one bed, Amy knows that there could be no nightmares that evening.  Her greatest terror, after all, had already come to life.  

And she was going to fight like hell to prove it wrong.  

[ambrosiaswhispers]

Snowed-In Like A Hallmark Movie

AU - the characters in an another world. I think Karen and Frank sound solid, but I'm not so sure about Jessica and Trish. Just a fun holiday piece. Nothing serious at all.

So stop me if you heard this one before... two people, who aren't big on Christmas rent a cabin in the mountains to get out of the city, but the cabin's been double booked with two people looking to enjoy the holiday. Fluffy-silly Hallmark level of the snowed-in troupe. AO3 Link: Here

Snowed-In Like A Hallmark Movie

The truck lurched as the right side tires dropped into a pothole and Jessica’s head slammed against the glass. “Geeze Castle, are you trying to give me a freaking concussion?”

Frank shook his head, “Didn’t even realize you were sleepin’, Jones. Might as well stay awake we’ll be at this place in about five minutes.”

“Finally; even with the drive, I think this is the best plan you’ve had in a long time.” She squinted as she looked out the window. “How much snow did they get up here?”

“About two feet or so and we’re supposed to get another two before tomorrow night. So once we get to this cabin we’re gonna be stuck there for a few days.”

“Music to my ears. If we can’t get out then no one can get in. It’ll be nice not to have to deal with all the holiday horseshit.” Jessica stretched in her seat. “As long as you brought the booze that’s all I need.”

“I got your back, Jones, don’t sweat it.” He corrected the truck as it fishtailed slightly. “No one going in or out in this shit-storm.”

“Is there any cell service up here?” She snagged her coffee cup and sipped from it, the bitter black liquid warming her a bit.

He chuckled, “Guy who owns it said as long as there’s power there’s decent wifi. So you’ll be able to chat with your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Jessica growled, “I just play that damn word game with her that Micro’s wife got us all playing. And what the hell does it matter? She just started the damn chat thing with me first, because of the stupid name I picked.”

“You could have let the app pick you a name.”

“It did and it was, Hero6934, no thank you. I just typed WhiskeyOverWine and it was completely random she started playing with me. And she started chatting with me, not the other way around.”

“But you’ve been chattin’ her up for three months. You being social voluntarily… that says something.” He sipped from his own coffee cup.

“Says that you’re too damn nosey. Stay out of it.”

“Alright, alright, easy does it.” He shoved her shoulder. “You do you, Jones, just trying to help you get some Christmas cheer.”

“The only cheer I need is in liquid form and you’re one to talk; you’re celibate as a monk.”

He grunted and corrected the truck again.

“Thought that would shut you up.” She lifted her coffee cup, “Here’s to a quiet no BS Christmas.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

.:.

“Oh my god those smell amazing. How did you have time to make cookie batter and get them in the oven in the forty minutes I was in the tub?” Trish walker was toweling her hair as she walked into the cabin’s kitchen, where Karen Page was pulling a cookie sheet from the oven.

The other blond laughed, “I didn’t; Rosie from accounting found out that I was going on this trip and made me cookie dough for my secret Santa gift. It was in the cooler. How’s the tub?”

“A gift from God.” Trish pulled the open bottle of wine from the fridge and motioned to Karen’s glass, “You want me to top you off?���

“Please.” Karen smiled and looked at the living room, “You think the tree’s too much?”

“No! This is exactly the Christmas I’ve wanted since I was a little girl: a big tree that I got to decorate myself, all the snow outside, the music, and a good friend to watch cheesy holiday movies with.” Trish beamed at her friend, “I still can’t believe Ellison let you off the hook.”

“I kept bringing him stories about how the holidays are nothing but profiteering markers for big corporations. After the fifth one, I got the, ‘Karen, I’ll give you this holiday off if when you come back your off your moral high horse’ speech.” She laughed as Trish’s phone chirped out and she picked it up.

“Can I see it?” Trish held out her hand.

Karen unlocked the screen, “We agreed that I have your phone and you have mine so we actually enjoy this weekend. I just need to make sure it isn’t…” Karen snickered as she teased, “It’s your Words-With-Friends friend.”

“Give it over.” Trish dashed around the kitchen island and snagged the phone away from Karen. “Looks like she had the same holiday plans we did, spending the weekend in a cabin with her friend to get out of the city.”

Karen sipped from her wine glass, “You should have invited her. I could have stayed in the city; this could have been your own little cheesy holiday movie.”

“Stop. You’re absolutely ridiculous. I don’t even really know her or if she’d be interested in me or if I’d be interested in her if we were face to face.” Trish bit her lip as she looked at her phone playing her word and typed a message to the other player.

Karen bumped her with her hip, “Lip bite.”

“Huh?”

“You bite your lip like that when you’re interested in someone and you do it every time you answer her.” Karen teased, “I couldn’t write a twist of fate better. You hit pick a random opponent and get the reverse name of your WineOverWhiskey name and then she’s sarcastic as hell when you chatted her up. It’s like a classic cheesy holiday movie… Oh like You’ve Got Mail!”

“We’re so not watching that one.” Trish handed her phone back to Karen, “I don’t know what your thing is with Meg Ryan.”

“She’s my girl-crush. Everyone has one. Yours just happens to have an unknown face.” Karen opened the fridge, “I don’t feel like cooking past finish up those gingerbread cookies. You want to crackers and cheese it tonight?”

“Yes. As long as there’s more wine.”

“I brought ten bottles of wine and fifth of whiskey in case we want to get crazy. I’m planning on being, at minimum, moderately buzzed most of this weekend.” Karen shooed Trish away from the kitchen, “Pick a movie. I’ll get it around while I finish the cookies.”

Trish ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass, “She might not even like women like that. Like… I mean… you know what I mean.”

“Maybe you should ask.” Karen set the cheese on the cutting board and started looking for a knife. “What could hurt to ask? Then you’d know at least, or is that what you’re afraid of? Her being interested.” She accepted the knife that Trish found in one of the drawers.

“It would just be complicated.” Trish took a long gulp of her wine, “If she was interested and if something started I’m in the spotlight for something that I don’t feel like I am. I can read the headlines now: former child-star now a lesbian. I don’t want to be the representation of something I’m not.”

“What do you consider yourself?” Karen started looking for a plate to put the food on.

Trish opened the crackers, “I’ve had good, meaningful relationships with men, so I guess…I mean I’m attracted to the connection that I feel to her not her gender. I feel more bisexual then anything and…” She sighed and finished off her glass of wine, purposefully ignoring Karen’s smirk. “There’s not a lot of media personalities that are openly bisexual, which means I’d be a representative for a group of people and I don’t think I’m good…”

Karen hugged Trish suddenly, cutting off her potentially self-destructive rant, “I think a successful child-actress turned self-made radio personality in New York is a great personality for people to look up to. The only person you really have to worry about is your mother.”

“Don’t remind me.” Trish groaned, before hugging her friend back. “Thank you, Karen, really.”

“No problem. Now go pick a movie, I put in my Netflix login while you were soaking.”

Trish refilled her wine glass and grabbed the remote, noting the last show in the queue with a snort.

“What now?” Karen opened the box of crackers. “I’m sorry it’s not all national geographic docs and rom-coms.”

“Oh it’s not that, it’s the fact that Sense8 is the last thing you watched, again.”

Karen rinsed off the knife before putting in the sink, “I like Wolfgang.”

“You and your murder-cupcakes.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve got a type, Karen, and it’s dark and dangerous with that heart of gold.”

“Listen…” Karen trailed off as lights flashed in the driveway.

“What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s here.”

.:.

“No I don’t want a fucking refund. I want to be the only person in this cabin that I paid for in advance! You double booked it, ‘cause the Barbie twins batted their eyelashes and it’s bullshit.” Jessica was snarling into the phone as Frank winced, glancing back at the unimpressed blonds.

He cleared his throat, “Sorry, she doesn’t really deal with…with um…”

“Human error? A simple mistake? Because we paid in advance for this cabin as well and over the phone, so the eyelashes were not a factor.” Karen folded her arms over her chest.

Frank chuckled and ignored the look Jones shot him as she stomped out onto the porch, slamming the door behind her. “Sorry, we’re getting off on the wrong foot here. She’s Jessica Jones and I’m Frank Castle.”

The other blond offered her hand first, “I’m Trish Walker and this is Karen Page. We really had no idea that you and your girlfriend…”

“Whoa, No. Jones and I are partners. We work at a security firm together.” He corrected quickly.

“Security firm?” Karen questioned.

“Yes, Ma’am. Anvil Security based out of Manhattan.” He pulled the stocking cap off his head. “I think I can talk her into leaving, but the road up here was rough. Anyway, I could trouble you for a cup of coffee.”

“I can start a pot.” Trish offered, making her way into the kitchen.

“Appreciate it.” He nodded to Trish.

Karen shook her head, “Why don’t you relax for a bit? Warm up at least while it’s brewing.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” He stomped off his boots before unlacing them.

“What branch?”

“Hmm?”

“What branch of the military did you serve in? You’re ‘Ma’am’ is too second nature and you don’t sound southern, so you’ve got to be ex-military.” She was glad she sounded casual because the black t-shirt he was wearing was practically painted on him.

“Guilty as charged. I was in the Marines, but I guess I should have known better then try to get something by the woman who wrote ‘Everyday Heroes’.” He hung up his coat on one of the free hooks on the wall.

Karen felt herself blush; damn-it she was not a high schooler; she was grown adult woman with an apartment in New York and a regular column in a successful paper. “You’ve read my work?”

“Loyal subscriber to The Bulletin, Miss Page.” He had this half-smile and she was sure that if he’d been wearing a ball cap he would have tipped it at her.

Maybe she did have a thing for manners? Karen offered her hand to him. “Karen’s fine.”

“Karen then.” He shook her hand back and hers felt embarrassingly small, cool, and dainty in comparison to the heat and calluses of his larger one. “Jones, is gonna be damned embarrassed when she gets back in here and figures out who you are, Miss Walker.” He craned his neck to catch Trish’s eye.

“Oh, Trish is fine, Frank. But why would she be embarrassed?” Trish arched her eyebrow.

“Outburst aside. She’s quite a fan of your Trish Talk show. We listen to it every day, she’s very insistent about it.” He sniffed the air and glanced around the open room. “Sorry about interrupting your Christmas together.”

“Oh, we’re just ducking all our media personality responsibilities together. Karen and I have been best friends since college.” Trish volunteered quickly as Karen shot her a look at that would have sent comic book villains running for the hills.

“Could you excuse us, Frank?” Karen grabbed Trish’s arm and dragged her into the hallway. “What are you doing?!?” She hissed at her friend.

“I wasn’t doing anything.” Trish smirked and failed miserably to feign innocence. “Oh come on he’s so your type: dark, dangerous, and military manners. You practically drooled when he called you Miss Page.”

“I did not.” Karen snipped back.

Trish rolled her eyes, “Let’s just be friendly. They aren’t gonna be here long. But for god-sakes get his number.”

“Cause he strikes me as such a phone guy.”

“I bet he could give good phone with that low gravel he’s got.” Trish quickstepped her way back into the kitchen with Karen hot on her heels. “So Frank, how about a drink before that coffee?” Trish asked as Jessica let herself back into the cabin, “You strike me as a whiskey over wine kinda guy.”

Jessica’s eyes widened and Frank shot his partner a look before he answered Trish, “Much as it would be appreciated. Best not since we’re gonna be driving back I have a feeling.”

“We’re not going anywhere.” Jessica was still eying Trish cautiously as she explained. “He’s refunding both of us, but we’re not going anywhere. The storm closed the road. We’re here until Monday, at least.” She shoved her hands in her pockets, “So I guess we’re…” She looked around the cabin, “I just need somewhere to lay down.”

“Jones.” Frank clipped.

“What? I’m freaking tired and the whole point of this weekend was to rest. I just want a bottle of my whiskey and a bed.” Jessica rubbed her temples.

“Well, there are three bedrooms. Trish and I can share and you two can have the other two.” Karen volunteered.

“Sure.” “No.” Jessica and Frank responded respectively. Frank seemed to recover quicker, “I’m not putting either of you ladies out of a bed. I can sleep out here on the couch, no trouble.”

Karen was going to protest, but Jessica cut her off, “Good plan; I’m gonna grab my stuff. I’m assuming one of the rooms is empty.” She marched out the door.

“I’ll go help her. Sorry, I think I woke her up from her nap too soon.” He smirked at Karen who let out a little laugh as he slipped on his boots and coat to help his friend.

“Maybe he could bunk with you.” Trish bumped Karen with her hip.

“You need to get yourself laid and stop worrying about me.” Karen huffed.

.:.

Frank walked around the back of the truck and caught Jessica’s arm, “Can you cool down some?”

She took a swig from a bottle of whiskey and sighed, “Yeah. It’s like Martha Stewart’s living room in there. I just wanted to get away from all the artificial holiday cheer shit.”

“For what it’s worth, I think those two actually have the Christmas spirit.”

“Spirits is more like it. I saw two empty bottles of wine.”

He snatched the fifth from her and took a swig, “Then they should be your kind of company, even if they are wine over whiskey kinda girls.”

“Caught that huh?” Jessica made a face.

“I did. Coincidence?” He offered.

She pulled her bag out of the back of the truck and yanked the cooler to the edge of the tailgate. “This ain’t Hallmark, Castle. That whole meeting-by-fate shit doesn’t happen.”

Frank shouldered his bag and helped her with the cooler. “Let’s throw this on the back porch. That’ll keep the alcohol cold enough and I’ll get the food inside while you take a nap.”

“Shut-it.” They stumbled in the deepening snow, “You know that Karen’s kinda cute.”

He stopped dead in his tracks so suddenly that it jerked Jessica back towards him since they were at either end of the cooler. “There a point to that statement?”

“She’s your type.”

“Oh is she now? You know my type.”

“I do.” Jessica cocked her eyebrow at him, “Doe-eyes, take no shit, and legs for days, hell if she’s pro-gun, I’ll bet you an even hundred you don’t sleep on the couch alone.”

He grunted, “I shoulda told them you were my girlfriend.”

Jessica laughed out loud, “You couldn’t handle me in the sack, Castle.”

“Keep it moving, Jones. You need to finish your damn nap so you can act civil.”

“You need to get laid, man.” She barked out a laugh as she started walking again.

.:.

Karen was sitting on the couch with Frank, since Trish had decided, very vocally, that she wanted the recliner. She was going to kill her friend for this later. Jessica had retreated upstairs with a bottle of whiskey and her bag over her shoulder stating that a shower, half of that bottle, and a nap were her plans for the night. The snow was still coming down heavy, in fact, Frank had gone out and shoveled the patio earlier and brought in firewood, but his footprints were hardly visible now. “The Holiday” was just finishing up and if the romantic comedy bothered Frank he didn’t say anything, but he had started a pot of chili on the stove and Karen felt her stomach growl as the smell of it filled the air. She should have slowed down on the wine, she was buzzed and wine always wound her up. Trish’s phone went off in her pocket and she pulled it out, glancing at it before tossing it to her friend.

Frank said nothing, but shot Karen a questioning look, “I have her phone and she has mine, it’s so we don’t work over this weekend.”

“But she gets it back…” Frank started to stay something, but Trish leaped up from the recliner and raced up the stairs without a word to either of the pair sitting on the couch. “Did I miss something?”

Karen was still looking behind the couch, “I have no idea. It was just an alert from this word game she’s been playing. She’s been chatting with this other player…”

“Whiskey over wine.” Frank offered.

Karen turned back to Frank sharply, “How did you know that?”

He let out a real laugh, a genuine one, and it made Karen smile. He had a good laugh. “That’s Jessica’s screen name.”

Karen slapped her hands over her mouth. “You’re kidding me!”

“Nope. Been telling her to try and meet up with that girl for weeks.” He pushed off the couch and went to check the chili.

Karen scrambled up behind him. “So Jessica is…” She motioned with her hands, it felt so inappropriate to question someone’s sexuality without them being present.

“Never really asked, but I know that she actually smiles when she’s chatting with your friend and she doesn’t do that too often.” Frank stirred the chili and tasted it, before offering the spoon to Karen, “Whatcha think?”

It was beyond good, Karen nodded to him. “It’s great. Did you learn to cook when you were in the service?”

“I was married once before.” He opened the cupboard and pulled down a pair of bowls.

“It didn’t work out?” Karen watched him dish out the chili, handing her a bowl and glancing around for utensils, “Drawer to the left of the sink.”

“Thank you.” He was quiet. He handed her a spoon wordlessly and took a bite of his own chili before admitting softly, “Lost her and the rest of my family to a drunk driver a few years ago.”

“Oh Frank, I’m so sorry.” Before she could stop herself she covered his hand with hers.

He shrugged, “It is what it is. I miss them every day, but can’t quit living not how life works. Sorry, an awful somber thing to bring up around this time of year.”

“I’m a good listener.” She offered.

“Bet you are.” He grabbed a beer out of the fridge.

“Can I have one of those?” She requested.

Frank pulled out a second bottle and popped the caps off, before handing her one, “Not a wine girl either?”

“It’ll do in a pinch.” She smiled taking a drink. “Truth be told Trish likes wine more than I do, but fewer bottles to pack if we stuck with wine.”

“I can drink to that.” He clinked his bottle to hers and they settled into a comfortable silence as they ate their chili. “Wonder how they’re getting along up there.”

Karen nearly snorted out the drink of beer she’d just taken. “You’re terrible.”

He shrugged, “Been accused of that a time or two. Let’s find another movie to torture me with.”

“You should pick the next one, less torture for you that way.”

“Fair enough. I’ll go outside, grab a couple more logs for the fire. You wanna grab us another pair of beers for after we finish these?” He shouldered his coat on and slipped back into his boots.

“Okay.” Karen popped the caps off the pair of beers and sat down on the couch scrolling through the holiday movie selections. She was just thinking Frank had been gone too long when the back door opened again. “I was starting to think you froze… holy shit! Frank?”

“It’s nothing; log slipped and hit me in the head, just a little blood.” He set the logs by the fireplace and slumped down on the couch.

“There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom, hang on.” Karen retrieved it and sat on the couch next to Frank, turning his chin so they were facing each other.

“It’s fi..”

“Just let me help.” Karen hushed him, wiping the alcohol pad over the cut and Frank winced. “Why is it that all the tough guys don’t mind the pain of injury, but whine about the treatment?”

His dark brown eyes were fixed on her as she worked. “It’s the adrenalin. Don’t feel it until after.” He smirked up at her. “That and we like the sympathy from a pretty girl.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Not if it’s not working.” He traced the side of her face with his finger, “I’m a bit out of practice.”

“I think you’re doing fine. The blood was a little extreme, I think being snowed in, in a cabin was enough.” She shifted and set the used cleaning pad on top of the first aid kit. She let Frank frame the side of her face with his hand and turn her back to face him. She was too buzzed for this, but she couldn't bring herself to care. There was something about the nervousness of his flirtation that made it even more irresistible.

“All part of the master plan, Miss Page.” He pulled her to him but paused for a moment waiting for her nod, before he claimed her mouth.

Claimed was an understatement. He tasted like chili and beer and heat…How does someone taste like heat? He cupped the back of her head deepened their kiss as she gripped at his forearms. She pulled herself over his lap and moaned into his mouth, he was already hard under her. His hands were strong, even if they were shaking a bit as he slipped them under her top, growling as he found her bare flesh.

“How are you so damn soft? We should…I mean I should…” He stuttered as his mouth found her neck and his free hand massaged down the line of her spine.

“My bedroom’s on the other side of the living room.”  She breathed out into his hair. She barely finished her sentence when he stood up with her like she weighed nothing. She tightened her legs around his middle and moaned as he bumped her back into the door.

“Sorry.” He apologized.

“I’m good. Just don’t stop.” She pleaded as he fumbled the door opened and slammed it closed behind them.

.:.

Jessica was on her back in the very soft bed, hair braided, but still wet from her shower. She took a long draw from her bottle of whiskey. Content to let Frank entertain the other two downstairs, especially since she’d made an asshole of herself in front of something she actually respected. Trish Walker was prettier in person then she was in her pictures and it made Jessica’s hands twitch. She wasn’t this girl, she didn’t pine, ever. If she wanted to get laid, she went and found someone, scratched that itch and moved on, she didn’t ache for tall blonds with sparkling eyes and joyful laughs.

She groaned and picked up her phone, noticing that her favorite player and taken her turn. The embedded chat message:

WineOverWhiskey: I think you’re gonna have to concede this one. I’ve got it in the bag. If I’m slow to respond, I actually did go away for the weekend with my friend and the receptions not the greatest.

WhiskeyOverWine: I’m in the same boat. That cabin I rented with my partner from work is in the middle of a blizzard and just my luck it’s double booked with a pair of blonds who are all holiday happy like you. Craziest thing one of them is Trish from Trish Talk.

She played her word, but this game was a lost cause there was no way that she was gonna pull off a comeback from this deficit. She closed her eyes and had just started to relax when her door went flying open.

“You ever heard of knocking?” Jessica threw a blanket over her bare legs since she was just in a t-shirt and underwear.

“Is this you?” Trish’s eyes were wild as she held her own phone to Jessica’s face.

Jessica blinked focusing on the screen, “Is what m…holy shit!” She was staring the text she’d just sent. Her dark eyes darted from the screen the blond, who was clearly as surprised as she was.

“You didn’t know this was me?”

Jessica put her hands on her hips, “How could I possibly know that was you?!? And for the record I don’t even know you, we just met. Could you turn around so I could put on some damn pants?”

“Right sorry.” Trish turned her back to the other woman and listened to Jessica rustle through her bag. “You know we’ve been talking for months.”

“Texts are just texts. Anyone can make stuff up on the internet.” She grumbled.

Trish pocketed her phone and fidgeted with her hands. “I wasn’t making any of that stuff up. Were you?”

“No. I’m not really a make shit up kinda person. What you see, er read I guess; is what you get.” Jessica zipped her jeans and flopped back on the bed. “You’re good.”

“Sorry about barging in. The situation just took me off guard; it’s kinda unbelievable when you think about it. What are the odds?” Trish turned around and looked around the comfortable little room. “Us both ending up here at the same time.”

Jessica shifted her legs on the bed, “You can sit if you want.” She took a long swig from her whiskey suddenly feeling like she needed it.

“Thanks. So you run away from the holiday and get stuck with me, who is all happy about it.” Trish sat down on the foot of the bed and picked absent-mindedly at the quilt on the bed.

“You’re not so bad.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but if you start singing carols I’m gonna walk out on the porch and voluntarily freeze to death.” Jessica snorted.

Trish arched her eyebrow, “You don’t strike me as the suicidal type.”

Jessica chuckled, “I’m not, but don’t ask my liver, it’ll tell you a different story. This the one I was telling you about, the one that’s got honey in it.” She offered the bottle to Trish. “If you don’t mind my germs.”

“I don’t.” Trish uncorked the bottle and took a drink coughing slightly. “That’s strong.”

“It’s decent.”

“Remind me to have Karen write your eulogy when your liver calls it quits.” Trish chuckled.

Jessica took another drink from the bottle, “You know all of my secrets.”

“Oh do I?” The blond wondered aloud.

“All the ones that matter.” Jessica glanced up and found Trish staring at her it made her warm all over and she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. So she started to ramble and she didn’t normally ramble, but it was just… “I mean I don’t talk a lot, don’t really have a lot to say normally, and I’m not a feelings person. That touchy-feely crap is a bunch of bullshit, not that I don’t feel anything and I enjoyed chatting with you. I don’t normally connect with people and it’s weird to say we have a connection because we’ve never been in the same room until a few hours ago. I just don’t want you to feel like you need…”

Trish was suddenly in her space pressing her lips to hers, soft and chase, just enough to stop her runaway mouth. “I like you too.”

Jessica huffed, but she kissed her back but wasn’t quite sure what to do with her hands until Trish tangled her hands in Jessica’s dark hair and deepened the kiss. It was different kissing her, the other woman was soft, but she had a faint bite from whiskey on her tongue. Despite the oddity and suddenness of all of this, it felt good, it felt like this was how it was supposed to be. Oh god, she was turning into a sap from a couple of kisses; fuck her sideways.

There was a bang and both women jumped. Jessica snickered, “That’s Castle; him and your friend must be getting along.”

Trish felt her cheeks get hot, “Really?”

“Educated guess that he’s a wall guy.” Jessica rolled her eyes.

“What about you? What kind of gal are you?” Trish bit down on her lip.

“I mean you’ve already got me in bed.”

.:.

“How is it that I’m the only one who knows how to cook out of the four of us?” Frank questioned as he fried the eggs in the pan.

Jessica snorted from the couch where she was sitting with Trish leaning against her, “Trying to imply it’s woman’s work?”

“No Jones, I’m saying that by the law of averages more than one of us should know how to cook.” He smiled at Karen, who was perched on the kitchen island clutching a coffee cup. She held it out to him and he took a sip before handing it back. “How do you survive on a daily basis?”

“Takeout.” Came the answer from the three women.

He shook his head and went back to what he was doing. He glanced up at Jones who was absent-mindedly running her finger down Trish’s arm as the two watched the sappy holiday movie.

“What are you thinking?” Karen questioned drawing his attention back to her.

He clicked off the stove and moved into her space, a smile on his face as he stole a kiss from her. “Merry Christmas, Miss Page.”

She rolled her eyes but kissed him back. “Merry Christmas, Frank.”

“No sex in the kitchen, I’m gonna eat in there later,” Jessica warned.

“Jess!”

[funkymeihem-fiction]

Hot Headed, Cold Hearted (Chapter 1)

(This is my new sequel to the now-completed A-Mei-Zing Outback Adventures, found here

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8457571/chapters/19376416

Thanks for reading! Hope you’re ready for more MEIHEM!)

“Agent 20151107, Mei-Ling Zhou, please report to the briefing room.”

Athena’s soothing voice chimed from her communicator, just as Mei had stuffed an overly large mouthful of egg tart into her jaws. Of course. She coughed and sputtered as she tried to swallow, patting her chest roughly to try and force it all down. “Hhfk!”

Athena’s icon blinked before speaking again, “Miss Zhou, you appear to be choking. Mercy is nearby, if you require-”

“No!” She rasped, clearing her throat before speaking more clearly. “No, I’m fine. Sorry about that. Is it an emergency?”

“It was not specified as such and Winston has indicated that you will be very pleased with the news, as it is regarding your science division. Please report to briefing when you are able, but I believe you have time to finish your egg tart in a less vigorous manner.”

Mei was already pushing her tray away from her, said egg tart still mostly uneaten along with the rest of the meal she had barely just started. “Thank you, Athena, but this can wait! Oh, could you message Jamison and let him know I can’t meet him for lunch because of my meeting, he’s probably already on his way here? Tell him I’m sorry, too!”

“I will contact Agent Junkrat now and let Winston know you are on your way. Good day, Miss Zhou.”

The icon went dark, and Mei dumped her meal into the bin on her way out the door, her snowflake pin swaying cheerfully as she bustled out of the cafeteria and started to make her way through the main base. If it was any sort of news regarding the science team, she wanted to hear it right away. True, her science team only consisted of herself, Winston, Bastion, and a rotating handful of lower-ranking agents, but she was still willing to do whatever it took to get things started off the right way. After her disastrous mission into the Outback, Winston was finally starting to grant her the time and resources to get their division off the ground, but Overwatch business had kept getting in the way. But if he finally had good news for her…maybe today would be the day!

“Miss Zhou, there is a reply message from Agent Junkrat.” Athena’s icon lit up again. “He…wishes to relay his understanding of the delayed lunch date, as well as good tidings and good luck to you, but his phrasing is littered with curses and very colorful language. Would you like me to relay the exact message to you?”

“Oh. No thanks, the nice thought is enough.” She pushed open the door to the briefing room, where Winston was already waiting for her. He sat in the main command chair, the only one that had been tailored for a genetically-altered gorilla, and his features were lit up by the only source of light in the room, the enormous main monitor where a soft pulsing ray of light in the center meant Athena was listening. With a little polite bow of her head, she hurried over towards the seat next to him, unable to keep the smile off her face. “Ni hao, Winston! I came as soon as I could.”

He nodded to her, glasses glinting vivid white-blue in the light of the monitor. “Good afternoon, Mei. I know you’d hate to be kept waiting, so we’ll just jump into things. Although to start…it’s happened again.”

“Is it Bastion?” she sighed.

“Indeed. Athena’s been keeping track of things ever since I first noticed it, but it hasn’t stopped. For several months now, every time it’s presented with a map, it keeps marking that one location over and over again.” He nodded up to the main screen, which flashed up a world map before zooming in to North America, then to Canada, then to a northern quadrant of Canada, and then zoomed in a final time to show a satellite picture of the mountain forests. “I sent it a map of Numbani, it sent me back the coordinates in Canada. I ask it to review its last maneuvers from the battle in Annecy, it sent me the reviews, but also that same location. Over and over. The first few times I thought it was an error, but it’s far too consistent. Athena’s even been able to isolate it to almost a direct latitude and longitude.”

She nodded, writing this down in her tablet. “Whenever I pulled up a topical map, it was always trying to point to Canada as well. But I’ll admit I didn’t think much of it until you pointed it out. So, what does it mean? Is that why you called me in?”

“So far it doesn’t seem to be directing us to…anything? Just a patch of Canadian wilderness. The closest civilization is a town called Tentpeg, but that’s hundreds of miles away. It’s still possible all this is some sort of mistake or error but…I’ve got a feeling we need to check things out, just to be sure.”

“That makes sense,” she agreed.

“I don’t want this information spread amongst the team, I can’t stress that enough. Torbjorn, Zarya, Junkrat, and a number of other agents already do not have the most positive view of our omnic relations inclusion act. And I don’t want to deal with any fallout if they suspect one of our robotic allies might be…er, questionable. But I haven’t made any headway at all into E-54 unit’s motives. All translation programs I’ve run have been inconclusive or denied.” He drummed at another collection of buttons on the control board, and both scientists adjusted their glasses at the same time as lines upon lines of indecipherable numbers and letters scrolled across the monitors. “Nothing makes sense here. Either it doesn’t know its own reasoning, or it’s not telling us something.”

Mei frowned, brows furrowing. “That can’t be right? Is Bastion even capable of subterfuge? I don’t like that idea at all, it seems so friendly…”

“I’m not certain subterfuge would be the right word. According to Torbjorn, our particular E-54 is already something of an anomaly. He designed its original blueprints and even he can’t figure out why this one seems so keen on this target location, any more than he can figure out why it restarted itself after being shut down, its reluctance towards aggression, or why it befriends birds and random wildlife. Physical diagnostics are all fine despite its age, but in short, we have no idea why it is the way it is.”

“Have you tried just asking it what it wants there?”

“On multiple occasions. Usually I’ll get a tilted head or a series of tones that don’t seem to mean anything. I’ve asked Zenyatta and our other omnic colleagues for their opinions on the matter, but none of them have anything in their program archives about this location, or any idea as to why such an old mobile defense unit would want to go there. And their questioning their fellow omnic yielded no new results.” Winston leaned back in his chair, folding both his hands and feet and drumming their digits thoughtfully. “I’ll admit I’m baffled.”

She rummaged about in her bag, pulling out her tablet and setting it on the table between them. With a few quick motions of her fingertips, she pulled up a view of the area once more. Just like before, it was a featureless sea of white, gray, and green, no different from any tract of the northern forests that stretched for miles upon miles across the Canadian wilderness. She couldn’t see anything suspicious at all no matter how she looked at it, not even a lewdly shaped boulder for Junkrat to pick out and giggle at later. There was nothing but trees, rocks, and snow. “I don’t suppose you have any different satellites that might have picked up anything?”

“I was actually hoping you might notice something I didn’t,” he admitted. “I would wait for the weather to clear up and send in a few search drones but after looking into the matter a little more…this is something of a developing emergency.” The screen flashed, and pictures began opening one after the other, staying on screen for only a few moments before another replaced it. For several long moments it continued, and he watched as the climatologist’s expression became more and more grim. “Those are all missing persons reports from the last thirty-odd years, from the various towns nearest the location, hundreds of miles away. I’m sure you notice the connection.”

She continued watching the pictures scroll past; serial numbers and figures with metal features, some with ocular lights, some without, mostly humanoid shaped, others not resembling humans at all, but all with the ‘MISSING’ text stamped across them. With a strange little noise that wasn’t quite a sigh, she breathed out, steepling her fingers in front of her as the number of victims grew. “…They’re all omnics.”

The gorilla nodded his shaggy head slowly. “All omnics, for over thirty years. I looked into the ongoing investigations but their only guesses were an anti-omnic terrorist still at large, or some form of virus, though that seems unlikely. Local law enforcement seems to know even less than we do…And with our Bastion unit seeming to have a connection to this, and its location being in the frozen north, it seemed almost eerily well-tailored for our new science team’s first official mission. I’m sending you both there on a scouting assignment to find whatever is at this location and report back when and if you find anything. I’ve already put in the orders for your supplies and cleared your schedules. You’ll move out tomorrow.”

To his surprise, Mei only smiled at his abrupt orders, cheeks dimpling happily. “Oh, this is going to be so exciting!” She blinked, then coughed a little. “I mean…Not the missing omnics, that’s horrible. But our first science team mission together! I’m certain we can be of help. Are you going to be coming along?”

“Er…I would like to, honestly I would. But Comman- ahem, Soldier 76 is insistent that Talon is planning something with how quiet it’s been lately, and Ana agrees with him. I need to remain here and continue overseeing our teams from the command central, including yours and Bastion’s new mission. In fact, I’d better get back to that. I’ll send the rest of the details to you by the end of the day. Once you reach the target location, I want you to contact us immediately with whatever you find, and then we’ll field more agents if needed. So…” He grinned, revealing a jaw full of large pointed teeth, “Get moving, Agent Zhou. Go get ready to uh, what is it you say? Science the heck out of things?”

She nodded quickly, even offering a comical little salute to her ape friend, before darting in to give him a very brief little hug on one arm. “I’m sorry you can’t come with us, but I’ll look around and see if we can find anything. Maybe Bastion will have more to offer once we’re on-site, too? I still wonder what it wants there?”

A hand that was easily the size of her entire torso very gently patted her back before nudging her gently towards the door. “Time for your science team to find out. Go check over your equipment and I’ll send you time of departure for tomorrow.”

And with that, he turned back to his screen and Mei hurried from the control room to let him return to his duties. When the door was closed, she pumped both gloved fists and hissed a low “Yes!” before breaking into a run towards her dorms, pulling out her tablet and already pulling up her charts and maps. She felt strangely elated, and then also a little guilty about being so elated. She shouldn’t feel happy at all with the ongoing tragedy of so many missing omnics, which may or may not have had ties to this mysterious wilderness locale, or that the once-trusted Bastion unit might be holding secrets from them…but she was going out! She was going out on an actual science mission, specifically for the science team, and one that seemed to have true importance. Winston was giving the science division actual work. No more babysitting the backlines or watching weather reports, this sounded like her team could really do some good if they could make any headway into this mystery, something important, something that might-

She turned a corner, still running, and slammed face-first into a solid wall of massive muscle and fat. With a squeaking noise of startled pain, she bounced back and landed hard on her rear on the floor. Roadhog seemed equally as startled, masked head tilting down at her before slowly offering out one enormous gloved hand.

“Mei! What the hell, Roadie, you’ve caused a bingle again! What’d I tell you about blind corners, mate?” Junkrat appeared behind his larger partner, lifting up one of his arms to get past him before hobbling behind the stunned Mei, lifting her up to her feet and going to wipe at a droplet of blood just below her nose. His attempts ended up scrubbing soot above her lip and giving her a black mustache-looking mark, so he licked his filthy thumb with a slurping noise of his long tongue and went to try and clean it away yet again. “Aw, love, lemme get that for ya!”

She managed to come to her senses just before his thumb touched her, pushing the sticky saliva-covered appendage away just in time, wiping the black mark away on her own. She rubbed at her nose, seeming satisfied that at least it wasn’t broken. It would hardly do to start off a mission with a broken nose, especially in such a silly way. “Sorry! Sorry about that. Are you okay, Roadhog?”

Roadhog hesitated, then looked down at himself as if to inspect for any damage where the much tinier woman had bounced right off him. After a long moment he rumbled a low, “…Mm.”

With an almost suspicious tilt of his head, the tips of his singed hair still burning from an apparent practice session on the fields, Junkrat squinted down at her, leaning down to her level to inspect her once more. “We were just looking for you. What’s the trouble, babe? Not much like you, runnin’ through the halls like your arse is on fire. I mean, usually it’s my arse what’s on fire, but what’s got you dashing?”

“I’m so sorry about that, I should have been more careful. I was just in such a hurry because I have to get ready! Winston’s sending us out on a mission tomorrow and I’ve got a lot to do. Oh, this is so exciting! I’d better get back to it, so-” She gave a quick, polite little bow of her head and then went to edge past Roadhog’s wide form, as the huge junker turned sideways to allow her past him. Squeezing through them both, she slowed her pace to less of a run and more of a jog. But when she heard footsteps behind her, she glanced back. The junkers were following her down the hall.

“Oh, the big monkey finally got you a mission of your own? I know you’d been wanting one. That’s ace, good on ya. Who’s going? Where you headed?” Junkrat loped after her, peg leg clacking noisily as his huge bodyguard’s boots thudded just behind him.

The question made her pause, giving time for the lanky young man to catch up with her and snake his long arms around her from behind, pulling her against his bare chest with a grin. Winston had told her to keep quiet about Bastion’s involvement or whatever this mission might have been. Trying to keep her voice casual and as non-suspicious as possible, she pretended to dig around for her tablet. “Oh! It’s…just a mission for the science team. It might not even be anything. Another agent and I are going to be flying out tomorrow to looking into a few strange things happening in Canada. It could be very boring, actually. That’s all. I mean, nothing really.” She gave a little nod, trying to make herself stop before it qualified as rambling. That should be a satisfactory answer, nothing was technically a lie.

There was a little answering giggle from his throat just above her, and his grip subtly tightened around her frame. When he spoke, Junkrat’s voice was just a little too soft, indicating he was already onto her. Damn. “Oh! Well, that’s a real shame, ain’t it? I mean, the monkey calling you in for an emergency meeting about a mission for your science team there, and it’s nothing at all? That’s downright rotten of him. Sooo, Canada, huh…Remind me who ya said you were heading out with?”

She winced inwardly. “It’s…just Bastion and me.”

Her words had just about the exact effect she’d been dreading, and he pulled his arms abruptly from around her as she turned to face him. His yellow eyes were wide and dangerously ablaze, and his nostrils flared when he hissed an angry reply. “What! No, no no, what the hell is that about! That hairy fucker better not be even thinking of sending you out alone with just that bot! Oh we are gonna have a chat, we are-”

“Don’t you say that about Winston!” she protested sharply, cutting him off and making him cringe back a bit. “And Bastion is a valued member of the science team and has been a model research assistant out in the field. Winston was going to come along, but he’s not able to so…It’s going to be all right with just the two of us. Like I said, we’re just looking into a few things, then we’ll be back. I know how you feel about…certain topics, but there’s no reason to get worked up.”

“Worked up! This ain’t even half worked up. You think I’m going to let my best girl go waltzing out into who-knows-what, alone with some weird malfunctioning bot and its freaky bird? That’s not even sending you out with a team, that’s just…” He sputtered, waving both arms. “Well that’s just crazy, and I know crazy when I see it!”

Mei sighed, giving an imploring look to Roadhog for some help. To her consternation, he was nodding along with his partner, and shrugged a little at her disappointed look. He shook his masked head, scratching at one side of his giant gut and pulling up his sagging pants with a grunt. “Don’t trust bots,” he said simply.

“Can’t trust ‘em at all, Roadie,” Junkrat agreed, before dropping to one knee and spreading out both long arms in a ta-da sort of display, posing in front of her. “Which is why…you need your favorite bodyguards! Yeah! We’ll protect you! Especially me, I’ll protect that body with my life, you know it. Sign us up, Snowflake. We’re going with you!” He jabbed Roadhog irritably in the side several times with the nearly blade-edge sharp angle of his elbow, before the much larger man grumbled and posed with him, one hand on his hip and the other giving her a thumbs up.

She rolled her eyes briefly, shaking her head at the ridiculous duo. “I appreciate the concern, I really do, but that’s totally unnecessary. This isn’t even a combat mission, it’s scientific recon. We might not find anything there at all, and there’s probably nothing to even protect me from. There’s really no reason for you to feel like you need to come along, I don’t need any bodyguards this time.”

“Well then it sounds like you won’t mind us coming along, if it’s just a pleasure tour and you won’t even need these guns!” Junkrat answered slyly, changing his pose so that he was flexing both skinny arms at her. “If you won’t take us as bodyguards, then we’ll just go along as…uh…scientific observers. Or just take us as your mates, with sparkling, scintillating conversation all for you. Who else are you going to talk to, the omnic only speaks in beep-boops? Come on, we handled everything the Outback had to throw at us, what’s wrong with bringing us with you just in case?”

Mei just gave him an exasperated look. “It’s just a scouting expedition! And you’d hate it in Canada!”

This was not something she’d expected to happen, and it had lessened her prior emotional high about getting her team’s first official orders. She should have simply given Junkrat a kiss goodbye before being on her way, without him ever knowing she was out on a mission with a bot. But then again…she’d been meaning to subtly try shifting the junkers’ stance on their omnic teammates. Not that she expected them to ever forgive or forget after everything she’d witnessed in the Outback, but if she could improve relations between her friends to at least a stiff formality instead of rabid hatred, it would be a step up. Plus, as much as she loathed to think of it, Bastion’s mysterious behaviors might warrant someone else coming along to keep an eye on things, or if anything related to the missing omnics popped up, or if something unlucky happened…and with her, something unlucky always happened. As insane as it sounded, it was starting to sound like an opportunity for both a better chance of understanding, and a pair of strong allies was always nice to have, just in case.

Well that and…having Junkrat around to keep her warm on a cold night wasn’t something to be entirely ignored, in a very unprofessional way…

“Well we can come along in an unofficial capacity, eh? Oh, I get it, this is about it being an expense thing? Money’s no object when it comes to you, lovey. How about we do this as a favor to you, pro bono? Hehehe, and then you and me, we can uh, we can pro-bone-o? Eeeeeeh?” His grin widened before he parted his teeth just enough to wiggle his tongue lewdly at her. This time both Mei and Roadhog sighed together, looking in opposite directions from the crude younger junker, who simply looked baffled that his smooth-talking hadn’t worked. “What? You get it?”

“I got it. Unfortunately. Listen…if you end up coming along with us- and that’s a big if, I haven’t decided on anything! If you end up coming with us, you’re going to have to accept that Bastion is an official member of my science division and we are going to be working together on this project. That means you’re going to have to be nice to it. No ifs, ands, or buts. If you can’t agree to being civil to your omnic teammates, I’ll have to decline you both. Can you be nice to it?”

Roadhog hummed unsurely through his mask’s filters, and Junkrat scowled as his expression twisted up to one side in a derisive sneer. “Define ‘nice’ when it comes to a bot? It’s not like it’s got feelings.”

Well, he was being extremely rude about it, but the fact that he was even asking meant he might be considering it. She held up a finger to his lips abruptly. “Bastion does have feelings, and I have rules about those feelings. It means being nice, and I know you know how to be nice. No blowing it up, no cursing at it, no insulting it, no trying to eat its bird, no doing anything mean. If you have to ask about it, it’s probably not nice. Before anything, I need a yes or a no. And if you say yes, I’m going to hold you to it in both a professional and personal way.” She placed both hands on her hips sternly. “That goes for both of you. So think it over before you say anything. I am not budging on this one.”

“Well damn, darl, tell us how you really feel,” Junkrat grumbled, scratching at his singed hair. He seemed to be mulling it over, exchanging several glances with Roadhog in their strange, often silent or one-sided communication that she still couldn’t always understand. “Arright, arright, we both promise we won’t hurt the bot.”

“Orrr?” she prompted.

“Or the bird. But if that thing goes berserk-”

“It won’t. It’s our friend,” she said, perhaps a little more firmly than she should have.

He lifted a bushy brow. “…Yeah, whatever you say, love. Look, promise you in a real official capacity that we won’t do any misbehaving unless we really need to. I’ll sign a contract if I gotta, even. But we’re with ya!”

Roadhog nodded above them with a low, “Mm.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, Jamison. You promised me. And you too, Roadhog. No joking. I’ll check things over with Winston and get everything ready. So, you two should go see to everything you want to bring with you. Now, sorry to run, but we’ve got a lot to do before tomorrow morning! Yídòng gèng kuài! Hurry hurry!” She left the junkers in the hallway and broke into another hurried gait, her head down and already tapping at her tablet and forgetting that she had already run into someone once today, doing that exact same thing.

From behind her, she heard a bewildered Junkrat wonder aloud, “Wait a minute, mate…Ain’t Canada really cold?”

[nsschaintale]

LINE 5: HOT TIMES IN HOTLAND

LINE 5: HOT TIMES IN HOTLAND

It was dark. But not as dark as it was when Hiro “died”. There was a faint spotlight that followed him as he made his way inside the lab, so there was some light that guided him. He could somewhat tell that there is a square trim along the bottom of the off-cream color wall and the light blue tiles on the floor. It was when he went in further that he spotted something glowing the opposite wall. He spotted a screen on a sort of large gray viewing console with some buttons and video controls.

Hiro: It's me...? (looks around) I don't see a camera thing anywhere... (moves around) I can't see... (almost trips on something) Agh! What was that? (stumbles forward) Awah! (hears a mechanical sound whirring) Huh?

The whirring sound came to a slow stop and a ding rang from ahead of him. Hiro could hear something opening and an odd skritching sound coming from the floor. Once the lights clicked on, he was able to see what made the noise. He spotted a yellow walking lizard with its front teeth poking out of its snout and wearing round full-frame glasses and a white lab coat. It seemed to be timid in nature, but she was quite shocked to see Hiro as he found out by her nasally voice.

Lizard (grabs her head): Oh. My god. (flails while looking around in a panic) I didn't expect you to show up so soon! I haven't showered, I'm barely dressed, it's all messy, and...

Hiro: Huh?

Lizard (faces Hiro): Umm... H-H-Hiya! I'm Dr. Alphys. I'm Asgore's royal scientist!

Asgore's royal scientist...?

Hiro: You're Dr. Alphys? (becomes cautious) Are you...

Alphys: Ah? B-B-But, ahh, I'm not one of the “bad guys”! Actually, since you stepped out of the Ruins, I've, um...been “observing” your journey through the console. Your fights... Your friendships... Everything!

Hiro: The camera... It was her? Wait.. (sweats a little) ..She saw everything?

Alphys: I was originally going to stop you, but...watching someone on the screen really makes you root for them. S-So, ahh, I want to help you!

Hiro: Help me?

Alphys (nods): Yep! Using my knowledge, I can guide you through Hotland! I know a way right to Asgore's castle, no problem!

Hiro: Really? Thanks! I don't wanna go to Asgore's castle...

Alphys (thinks): ….Well, actually, umm, there's just a tiny issue.

Hiro: Issue? Was that a sneeze, or..?

Alphys: A long time ago, I made a robot named Mettaton. Originally, I made him to be an entertainment robot. Um, you know, like a robotic TV star or something.

Hiro: Oh cool!

Alphys: Isn't it? Anyway, recently I decided to make him more useful. You know, just some small practical adjustments.

Hiro: Really? Like what?

Alphys: Like, um... (glances away nervously) Anti...anti-human combat features?

Hiro: What.

Alphys: Of c-course, when I saw you coming, I immediately decided... I have to remove those features!

Hiro: Oh. Yay!

Alphys: Unfortunately, I may have made teensy mistake while doing so. And, um....

Hiro: Hm?

Alphys (sweats nervously): Um...Now he's an unstoppable killing machine with a thirst for human blood?

Hiro: …..Whaaaat?

Alphys: Eheheheheheheh.....heh.

Hiro: Alphys...

Alphys: But, hmm, hopefully we won't run into him!

Hiro: I hope so, too.

Hiro and Alphys were about to move, a loud banging sound rang out. They both looked around in confusion while Alphys asked about the sound. Soon after, five more bangs occurred, one louder than the last.

Alphys: Oh no.

Hiro: What's that?

After Hiro asked that, a flash of light engulfed the area before the actual lights went out. Suddenly, a loud robotic male voice rang out joyfully.

???: OHHHH YES! WELCOME, BEAUTIES...

A moment later, a spotlight illuminated a rectangular box robot with his gloved hands clutching a microphone, the grid screen glowing yellow,  the linear speaker projecting his voice, his four dials pointing in various directions, and the single wheel that carried his boxy form. He was apparently the one that broke through the wall as Hiro and Alphys spotted the hole behind him.

??? (a red M flashes on his screen): …. TO TODAY'S QUIZ SHOW!!!

A large yellow-bordered black rectangular sign with the words “GAME SHOW” written in a whimsical red and pink letters descended from the ceiling along with a pair color strobe lights and a rain of confetti. Hiro was in awe while Alphys was worried.

Robot: OH BOY! I CAN ALREADY TELL IT'S GONNA BE A GREAT SHOW! EVERYONE GIVE A BIG HAND FOR OUR WONDERFUL CONTESTANT! (claps as confetti rained on Hiro)

Hiro: Whoa!

Robot: NEVER PLAYED BEFORE, GORGEOUS?

Hiro (shakes his head): No, I haven't!

Robot: NO PROBLEM! IT'S SIMPLE! THERE'S ONLY ONE RULE.

Hiro: Okay!

Robot: ANSWER CORRECTLY... (drum rolls) ….OR YOU DIE!!!

Hiro: Wait!?

Hiro was forced into a grayscale battle where Alphys is by the robot, whom he found out is Mettaton (THAT Mettaton!?!) on the opposite side of the field. To Hiro's dismay, Mettaton's body renders him invulnerable to attacks and this sudden change made him cry. He noticed a sign nearby saying “screaming is against the rules”.

Mettaton: LET'S START WITH AN EASY ONE! (moves over and a block of text and four choices by the green letters appear)

What's the prize for answering correctly?

A. Money

B. Mercy

C. New car

D. More questions

Hiro: Uh, um! (touches C) A car! (gets shocked) AAAGH?!!

Mettaton: OH SORRY, THAT WAS WRONG. NEXT QUESTION!

What's the king's full name?

A. Lord Fluffybuns

B. Fuzzy Pushover

C. Asgore Dreemurr

D. Dr. Friendship

Hiro (immediately flies to the C answer when he sees it): Asgore Dreemurr!

Mettaton; CORRECT! WHAT A TERRIFIC ANSWER!

Hiro: Yay! (sees Alphys give a thumb's up and does the same)

Mettaton: ENOUGH ABOUT YOU. LET'S TALK ABOUT ME!

What are robots made of?

A. Hopes & Dreams

B. Metal &Magic

C. Snips & Snails

D. Sugar & Spice

Hiro (hits the B answer): Metal and magic! I guess?

Mettaton: TOO EASY FOR YOU, HUH??? HERE'S ANOTHER EASY ONE FOR YOU!

The moment Hiro saw the next question, his mind went blank. All he read was something about two trains leaving their respective station at the same time. He only had seconds to spare when he noticed Alphys making a letter shape with her hands. It looked like a D. Unsure if she was trying to help him, Hiro went to the D answer quickly.

Hiro: Th-This answer! The thirty-two dot zero fifty-eight minutes one!

Mettaton: I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU GOT IT, BUT AMAZING! DON'T 'COUNT' ON YOUR VICTORY..

How many flies are in this jar?

A. 54

B. 53

C. 55

D. 52

The flies were moving too much for Hiro to really count, but Alphys helped him with the answer, so he went accordingly.

Hiro (hits the A answer): Uh, A? 54?

Mettaton: WONDERFUL! YOU GOT IT RIGHT!!

Hiro: Y-Yay!

Mettaton: LET'S PLAY MEMORY GAME. (reveals an image of half of a Froggit's head)

What monster is this?

A. Froggit

B. Whimsun

C. Moldsmal

D. Mettaton

Hiro: That's easy! (hits A) It's Froggit! (gets shocked) WHY!? (watches the image get bigger and showing Mettaton with Froggit's face) Wha...

Mettaton: BOY, THAT'S EMBARRASSING, HUH? BUT CAN YOU GET THIS ONE??

Would you smooch a ghost?

All of the answers show Heck Yeah. Hiro was at a loss at what to do, so he just picked a random answer.

Mettaton: GREAT ANSWER! I LOVE IT!!

Hiro: Errr....

Mettaton: HERE'S A SIMPLE ONE.

How many letters in the name Mettaton nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn......

Hiro despairingly watched as the letter N wrapped around the area and the number answers rapidly increase as it did so. He glanced over at Alphys and saw her make a C. At this point, he's unsure of this game and took whatever help he could get, so he answered C.

Mettaton: TIME TO BREAK OUT THE BIG GUNS!!

In the dating simulation video game “Mew Mew Kissy Cutie”, what is Mew Mew's favorite food?

Hiro: I don't-

Alphys (waves her hand excitedly): Oh! Oh! I know this one! IT'S SNAIL ICE CREAM! In the fourth chapter, everyone goes to the beach! And she buys ice cream for all of her friends!! But it's snail-flavored and she's the only one who wants it!! It's one of my favorite parts of the game because it's actually a very powerful message about friendship and... (realizes what she did; sweats) ….

Hiro (surprised): Uh.....what?

Mettaton: ALPHYS, ALPHYS, ALPHYS. YOU AREN'T HELPING OUR CONTESTANT, ARE YOU?

Alphys (shakes her head nervously): No-

Mettaton: OOOOH!! YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME. I'LL ASK A QUESTION YOU'LL BE SURE TO KNOW THE ANSWER TO!

Hiro: Uh oh...

Who does Dr. Alphys have a crush on?

A. Undyne

B. Asgore

C. The human

D. Don't know

Hiro was unsure at first, then he remembered his conversation with Undyne and chose A. He saw the flustered look on Alphys's face  as she tried to hide it while trembling in embarrassment and was unsure of why.

Mettaton: SEE ALPHYS? I TOLD YOU IT WAS OBVIOUS. EVEN THE HUMAN FIGURED OUT.

Hiro: Wait, what was? What did I do? Wait, Alphys likes Undyne?

Mettaton: YES, SHE SCRAWLS HER NAME IN THE MARGINS OF HER NOTES. SHE NAMES PROGRAMMING VARIABLES AFTER HER. SHE EVEN WRITES STORIES OF THEM TOGETHER...SHARING A DOMESTIC LIFE. PROBABILITY OF CRUSH: 101 PERCENT. MARGIN OF ERROR. ONE PERCENT.

Hiro: Eh? That doesn't sound so bad.

Mettaton: WELL WELL WELL. WITH DR. ALPHYS HELPING YOU, THE SHOW HAS NO DRAMATIC TENSION! WE CAN'T GO ON LIKE THIS!! BUT. BUT!! THIS WAS JUST THE PILOT EPISODE!!

Hiro: Really?

Mettaton: NEXT UP, MORE DRAMA! MORE ROMANCE!! MORE BLOODSHED!! UNTIL NEXT TIME, DARLINGS... (pulls his arms and wheel inside himself and rockets away, ending the “quiz show”)

As color returned to the area, Alphys and Hiro stood in silence, bewildered at what just occurred, especially in Hiro's case. It was a while before Alphys finally spoke up.

Alphys: …..Well, that was certainly something.

Hiro: I-It was...

Now that the lights are on, Hiro has a much better view of the area. He saw a large brown desk that's an absolute mess. Besides the PC monitor, keyboard, and tower, there are piles of written notes and empty bowls of whatever that was in them. There are two cups, one shaped like a lizard, and an action figure of a cat-eared female human. By the desk is a large grey refrigerator, and a large purple bag of dog food. Hiro hadn't seen a dog yet, so he figured it was elsewhere in the lab. Before he moved on, Alphys stopped him.

Alphys: Wait, wait!

Hiro (watches her run up to him; realizes she's a bit taller than him): Yeah?

Alphys: Let me give you my ph-phone number! Th-Then...m-maybe...If you need help, I could...

Hiro: No, it's okay! (takes his phone out of his pocket) Here it is! What's your number?

Alphys (surprised): Wh...Where'd you get that phone!? It's ANCIENT!

Hiro (hands her the phone): Eh? What's wrong with it?

Alphys: What's wrong with it? A lot! (looks over it and notices some things) It doesn't even have texting....

Hiro: It doesn't? I didn't know that.

Alphys: W-Wait a second, please!

Hiro watched as she walked off with his phone. Soon, he started hearing banging sounds, ringing sounds, drilling sounds, a random meow, and a shriek. He was beginning to become concerned about those noises, but Alphys returned with his phone fully upgraded. He saw that even the appearance changed. It looked more like one of those new smartphones he saw on the surface. It was mostly black with the corner and bottom side parts in lavender, a key chain hoop being on the left side, a spot where a camera lens is, and the top half has a screen and the bottom has a lavender keypad section.

Alphys: Here, I upgraded it for you! It can do texting, items, it's got a key chain, I even signed you up for the underground's No. 1 social network! Now we're officially friends! Ehehehe!

Hiro: Oh cool! Thanks, Alphys!

Alphys: N-No problem! Heheh..heh..

There was an awkward silence from Alphys as Hiro examined his newly upgraded phone. He hadn't noticed this until she finally spoke up.

Alphys: I'm going to the bathroom. (rushes off)

Hiro: Huh? (sees Alphys run inside the room she left earlier) Oh.

Hiro poked around further in his phone. It had the standard wallpaper on it, a few apps, his standard information, his old contacts, and the black panels are now projected from the camera lens on the back of his phone. He even spotted the words Dimensional Box A and B. He selected the first box and saw everything has in  the boxes he went to before.

Hiro: Oh wow! I can even get my stuff from those boxes anytime! (looks around at the area) Hmm, I want to look around.

Hiro was able to take a much closer look at everything in the lab. He recognized a puzzle that he saw in Snowdin on the computer, which reminded him of what Papyrus had said about it being made by Alphys, the notes looked like chicken scratch but they seemed to be a game guide, the figurine of the cat girl looked a little beat-up than he thought, the lizard teacup has soda in it, the refrigerator is filled with instant noodles and soda (which Hiro snuck a noodle package into his phone as a test), and the dog food bag is half-full. After finishing exploring the first floor, he saw that there's a second floor. As he headed there, he spotted Alphys's feet from under the door. He went past there and went up the escalator and saw more things to look at. Along the opposite side of the second floor is a conveyor belt much like the ones he's seen at an airport the one time he got on a plane for the first time. There are five tall orange bookshelves, each color-coded from left to right: red, blue, yellow, green, and light green. Hiro started with the light green one and saw that they were scientific books. A lot of them are dusty, which Hiro hoped it was normal dust. The green-filled bookshelf have books labeled “Human History” and Hiro pulled one out. He noticed that it was a comic of a giant robot fighting a beautiful alien princess.

Hiro: Eh? Hmm.. this looks cool. (read a few pages then puts it back) It's a comic book, but why is it called Human History? (goes to the yellow-filled bookshelf and sees VHSes and DVDs of various cartoons.; they're labeled “Human History”) What..? (goes to the blue-filled bookshelf) Human History... (pulls out a book and looks inside; sees two chefs with very little clothing flinging energy pancakes at each other) Uh...I don't remember that in History class.... (goes to the red-filled bookshelf and pulls out a book; it's a comic of a hideous android running to school with toast in its mouth, possibly running late; puts the book back) ...Aren't these just comics and cartoons? ...Was this the Human History Undyne was talking about? Huh...

Hiro pondered this until he saw a strange machine under a tool rack. It has two levers, one on each side, with a window to see some green stuff inside, the opening on top is full of what looks like grass and a long hose with some strange pink goop dripping into a bowl. By the machine is a dusty work station table. There's a power drill and a chainsaw on the table along with a long paper that has an upside-down heart pointing to a rightside-up one pointing to what looks like a body pointing to scribbled notes. Hanging over the table on the wall was a pink-scale landscape poster of a cat-eared human girl surrounded by hearts, winking, and making peace signs. Next to the table is a pink wardrobe full of dirty lab coats and a single clean dress, and next to that is an end table. It has a bulbless blue lamp with the shade having pink fishes on it and a stack of unopened letters from different monsters.

Hiro: Froggit, Snowy, Doggo.. Maybe she just got them?

Hiro soon spotted a large light blue cube under another landscape poster that has a heart and some strange symbols that maybe in another language. The box looks like some kind of invention. Hiro didn't see a bed anywhere, so he figured that may be it.

Hiro: How does she sleep on it? Hmm.

The end of the second floor has a poster on the wall before the down escalator. It was purple with the silhouette of Mettaton under a pink spotlight. It turned out to be a  promo poster of Mettaton's TV premiere. Hiro was not too fond of the robot's “quiz show”, but he noticed somethings on the flap.

Hiro: “Thank you for making my dreams come true.” Huh.

Feeling like he's seen everything he could, Hiro went downstairs and left the building out the opposite way. As he walked on, he heard a quick jingle from his phone and checked it. There was a notification showing that ALPHYS had updated her status.

just realized I didn't watch undyne fight the human v.v

Hiro: Eh? Oh, is that the  social network thing? She did sign me up.. (puts the phone in his pocket; hears it ring again) Eh?

well I know she's unbeatable i'll ask her abt it later ^.^

Hiro: All I did was run from Undyne. I don't know how she is in a real fight.. (hears the phone go off) Eh?

For now I gotta call up the human and guide them =^.^=

Hiro: ...Huh? Hmm. (walks further to the next area where there are two sets of conveyor belts connected to four pipes; flanking the sides are pipes blowing blue flames at times) It's those moving path things again. (sees the left conveyor moving ahead of him) This way. (steps onto it; sees the area go grayscale) Uwaa!

On the conveyor belt, Hiro met what looks like a little four-legged volcano. He found out its name is Vulkin and it just strolled up near him. He also read that the monster believe its lava can heal people. Even Hiro knows from his Science class that lava is too hot to touch, he's seen those videos. Hiro's other options here are Criticize, Encourage, and Hug.

Vulkin: You're hurt! I'll help!!

All of a sudden, two vortexes of flame ran up the sides of the area with large embers being flung out at him. He got hit at few times, but he made it through. As Vulkin made a smoke hoop and jumped through it, Hiro looked through his options, didn't want to criticize it, so he gave the Vulkin some encouragement.

Hiro: Hey, Vulkin! You're doing a great job!

Vulkin: Ahh! Ahh! Does my best!

The same firenadoes appear again and Hiro carefully dodged the embers. Afterwards, he watched the Vulkin parades around him proudly. Hiro decided to give Vulkin a hug, but that turned out to be a really bad idea and he had to deal with the firenadoes again. At least Vulkin was happy As soon as he was able to, Hiro spared the monster and was able to move on. As he stepped off the conveyor belt and headed up the path, his phone went off.

gonna call them in a minute!!! =^.^=

Hiro: Eh? She will? Huh.

Hiro found himself before more conveyor belts. Before he went to them, he heard the sound of an airplane flying nearby and the area went grayscale. Suddenly, a miniature airplane wearing a puffy hat with a large ribbon on it got in his way, not on purpose or anything. He checked his options and found Approach and Flirt.

Hiro: Again with Flirt? I'll just check it. (chooses Check) Eerrr... T..sun...der..plane? “Seems mean, but does it secretly likes you?” Wha...?

Tsunderplane: No way! Why would I like YOU?!

Tiny airplanes flew across the area, dropping bombs everywhere. Hiro had to fly all around to avoid the bombs and smoke. Afterwards, he saw Tsunderplane give a condescending barrel roll. He wasn't sure of what to do, so he decided to try and get close to the plane, catching the scent of an airport perfume counter. He thought of this because he remembered his mother browsing some at one point.

Tsunderplane: Eeeeh? H-Human..?

Hiro saw some small planes with a green aura around them flying by, He was able to touch the auras and as he did, he noticed some pink appearing on its...cheeks? The plane dismissively shook her nose at him. Hiro decided to try and complement Tsunderplane's features, like its cute winglets and its impressive wings.

Tsunderplane (blushing): Ah...Is that true..?

Hiro: Yeah! I like the movies and books you have, too!

Tsunderplane (blushing harder): Human...I... (looks away shyly)

Hiro and Tsunderplane chatted about the movies and books before he spared her. After that, he walked onto the triple conveyor belts and zigzagged his way up and along the pipes ahead. He made it to the next area where he can hear the whooshing sound of steam and cogs. This somehow fills him with determination as he touched the Save Star to update his latest location. Hiro saw that the location is called Magma Chamber, and before he could see what was ahead, his phone went off.

I HATE USING THE PHONE I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS LMAO ^.^

Hiro: Uuh... Okay...? (pockets his phone; sees various platforms with puffs of steam and glowing red arrows) What do these do? (steps on the platform closest to him, gets launched to the other area ahead) AAAAH!! (lands) Gaaah... (sees the area turn grayscale) AAH?

Hiro floated up to see a monster that looks like a walking rope coil with a flaming head and white sneakers similar to his. The monster is called Pyrope and the options presented are Cool Down, Heat Up, and Invite. Apparently, the Pyrope is never warm enough as it asked if it was cold. Before Hiro could say anything, there were bombs bouncing into the area. He was able to fly fast and far enough to avoid the explosions. Soon after the explosions ended, Hiro caught the scent of rope burn. He tried Invite, but the Pyrope said he was tied up. Hiro tried Heat Up and a thermostat appeared. He never really messed with things like that at home, but he figured it can't hurt. He started to turn it up a bit while noticing the Pyrope getting excited. Hiro also noticed the area was getting a little wavy.

Pyrope: Hot!! HOT!! Hotter! HOTTER!!

Hiro had to dodge the bombs again before turning up the heat again. Unfortunately, it was getting too hot, but Pyrope looks satisfied. Pyrope wanted it to be even hotter, and there were strings of rope that have some flames on the ropes. He couldn't figure out the ropes until the last few when he had to move through the flames. The area is sweltering and Hiro was feeling it. He did it again and he can barely see much because it's SOOOO hot. He dodged the bombs again and was able to spare Pyrope. The temperature dropped to normal (in Hotland terms) and Hiro ate one of his foods. As he was getting launched from platform to another, he got an update.

Omg ive had my claw over the last digit for 5 minutes

omg i'm just gonna do it

i'm just gonna call!!!!

Hiro: Err... Should I call her? I don't think she gave me her number... (gets launched to a spot before another area and gets a phone call) It's her! (answers) He-

Click!

Hiro: …..Uum... (looks at his phone) …. That was Alphys, right? Hmm.. (goes to the next area where he spots a series of pods shining blue and orange lights and gets a call) Hello!?

Alphys: Uuh! H-Hi, so, the blue lasers... Uhh! I mean, Alphys here! Hi!

Hiro: Hi, Alphys! I heard blue lasers...

Alphys: Y-Yeah, the blue lasers won't hurt you if you don't move!

Hiro: Like San's blue stop sign thing...

Alphys: O-Orange ones, um... Y-You have to be moving, and they... They won't, um... Move through those ones! (silent) Uuh, bye! (hangs up)

Hiro: Okay... (sees a notification pop up)

OMG I DID IT!!! claws haven't shook like that since undyne called me to ask about the weather... v.v

Hiro: There's weather here? Hmm.. there is the snow in Snowdin and the rain in Waterfall, so I guess that counts..? (puts his phone away and glances at the lasers) So... orange, move and blue, stop. Okay!

Hiro moved through the first two orange lasers and approached the blue laser. Upon hearing the phone go off, Hiro froze just short of the laser.

WAIT THERE'S NO WEATHER DOWN HERE WHY DID SHE CALL ME

Hiro: Gah! Phew...

Hiro moved forward a little before stopping as the blue laser went through him. He hurried past the orange one and stopped on the blue one. When it passed, he ran through the orange one, carefully went through two blue lasers, and walked through the last orange laser. He soon spotted a pillar with a red switch and pressed it, watching the lasers turn off.

Hiro: Phew, it's over.

Hiro continued into the next area before receiving another update.

Oh My God I Forgot to Tell THem Where To Go

A moment later, Hiro saw a picture appear on the screen with the words “CUte PIC OF ME RIGHT NOW ^.^”. It was of a garage can with several pink, glittery filters over it.

Hiro: ...Why did I get a picture of a trash can? Did Alphys send the wrong picture? Huh. (approaches a large area with more arrowed platforms; gets a phone call) Hello?

Alphys: A-A-Alphys here!!!! Th...The northern door will stay locked until you...s-solve the puzzles on the right and left! I...I think you sh-should g-g-go to the right first! (hangs up)

Hiro: ….Okay. (looks around) The right...

It took him a while to figure out the platforms, but he eventually got to the right side of the area. He entered an area where there's an entrance with an arrow pointing up across from two monsters sitting on the ledge. One is a green bovine-like monster wearing a blue business suit, white polo shirt, blue tie, and black glasses and shoes. The other is humanesque one covered in black flame and wearing a white glasses, white tanktop shirt, and green pants. He was holding a cup of what Hiro assumed was coffee by the way steam was wafting from it.

Green Bovine: The way to work is blocked, I had to catch Mettaton's show on my phone... The special effects were amazing today! The human almost looked REAL!

Hiro: Uh...yeah, that's neat... Wait, you two know Mettaton?

Black flame Monster: Mettaton? Yeah, he's the most popular star in the underground! His fan club probably has at least two..no, THREE dozen members!

Hiro: Huh...

By his experience with running into Mettaton, Hiro was less likely to join that fan club. Before he entered the room ahead, he got a status update from Alphys.

wonder if it would be unfun if I explained the puzzle...

Hiro: Hmm, can't be that bad. (walks into the room)

The room is large and dark with a large screen ahead that has a smaller square with six more smaller squares in that one, three on opposite sides  from top to bottom. Four of the six squares are white and two are black. There are two V-shaped arrows with the ends pointing at each other and the one closest to Hiro is yellow. He soon spotted a sheet on paper to the left of the split path that has instructions for the puzzle, a red bordered panel that looks to be the controls for the puzzle, and loitering in the right corner is a disembodied orange cat head wearing black sunglasses.

Hiro (reads the instructions on the paper): Shoot the opposing ship... Move the boxes to com..complete your..mission... Cool! (looks at the cat head) Creepy.... (walks up to it) Hello..

Cat Head (bouncing): The door leading through the area is closed? So I tried the puzzle? But I kept running out of ammo, and it kept restarting? And my two coworkers won't help? It's like they don't wanna go to work?

Hiro: Uh...I guess? (walks back to  the red panel and touches it) Must be those two I met earlier. Whoa! It lit up! (sees two red teardrop items with the pointed parts facing Hiro) I got two ammo? Hmm, okay! This is easy!

It wasn't easy. It took him some time before he figured out he had to move the black boxes use a bullet for a box before destroying the ship.

Hiro: Yeah!

Cat Head: Wow? You solved it? I'm impressed? You must be a total nerd?

Hiro: Than- Wait, what? He called me a nerd?!

Hiro left the puzzle room and noticed the arrow above the entrance lit up. He thought nothing of it and left the area to the crossroad. He launched himself with the steam platforms to reach the left side and into the next area. He soon saw another one of those blue lasers from before spotting a pair of monsters hanging around the far end of the area away from the entrance. From the outfit which has a white longsleeved top, black collar, pink ribbon, black pleated skirt, white kneehigh socks (the green flame monster has ankle socks) and black shoes, they look like school girls. The one closet to the entrance is a purple monster with two pairs of horns, the top pair pointing up and bottom pair down, black eyes with red irises, and wearing a red baseball cap on her left horns and her foot on a red skateboard. The other monster is a green flame monster. Hiro thought about Grillby before he interrupted by a call from Alphys.

Alphys: Alphys! Here!

Hiro: Ah, hey, this laser's blue!

Alphys: Th-That laser seems totally impassible! B-B-But! As the Royal Scientist, I h-have some tricks up my sleeve! I'll h-hack into the Hotland laser database and take it out!

As soon as she hung up, the laser was shut off. He soon went over to the purple monster and talked to her.

Purple Monster: We were hanging out when suddenly, a buncha puzzles reactivated out of nowhere. This is a huge problem... It rules!They've GOTTA cancel school over this!

Hiro: Wish my school did, too...

Green Flame Monster: Finally! Someone turned off that laser! Now that we're free we can... Well, uh, I guess we'll just keep standing here.

When Hiro entered the room, the setup was similar to the previous room, except the box square is bigger and there were ten boxes. Again, it took him longer to figure out the black boxes before managing to open a path for the bullet.

Hiro: That was hard... Are they all like this...?

Hiro left the area and saw that the only place left was north, but he did remember seeing a branching path on the way to the laser row area, so he went back. Luckily he turned the lasers off and he was able to get to that other path. In the large area, there are three rock platforms with the center having a launch pad, a split conveyor path that meets in the center rounding from the outer platforms. On the platform on his right, Hiro spotted a flying pan and wanted to get it. He launched himself over, retrieved it and equipped it before returning to the crossroads where he did the box puzzles. He launched himself up and approached a large pair of dark blue doors with a flashing circular green light on each of them. When Hiro drew closer, the doors split open, letting him walk inside. He entered into the area and spotted another steam launch pad before receiving another update.

whatever!!! i'll just explain it!!!

Hiro: Explain what? (gets a call and answers) Hello?

Alphys: Uuuh, I think.. Umm... Hey! About the puzzles on the left and right...! They're a bit difficult to explain, but...

Hiro: Oh, those? I beat them!

Alphys: ...uuuh, you already s-solved them? Awesome! (hangs up)

Hiro: ….Thanks? (pockets his phone) Okay...

Hiro used the launch pads to hop his way to the other side and landed on a light blue path covered in a light-green polka-dots. He walked inside the area and it was pitch black with no light. He couldn't even see in front of him. A little light flashed in his pocket and he was able to take out his phone and answer it.

Alphys: H-Hey, it's kind of dark in there, isn't it?

Hiro: Yeah... It's too creepy in here...

Alphys: Don't worry! I'll hack into the light system and brighten it up!

As soon as the lights turned on, Hiro was able to see his surroundings, which turned out to be a kitchen. There's a small wall lamp next to a refrigerator that was by a long counter that has a carton of eggs, milk, and sugar, a large curtained window with a sky background, two small spice racks on the wall, a separate smaller counter with a microwave on top and a cupboard above that, and a stove right beside the counter. He found himself standing before a long island counter that has a green bottle of hand soap by the sink and a brown cutting board, a blue bowl, and utensils on it. There's also a section above that turned out to be green rafters of some sort. The floor was the same as the path that lead into the kitchen.

Hiro: It's a kitchen!

Alphys: Oh no.

Mettaton (appears from below wearing a tall chef's hat): OHHHH YES!!!

Hiro (almost drops his phone): AAAH!!

Mettaton: WELCOME, BEAUTIES, TO THE UNDERGROUND'S PREMIER COOKING SHOW!!!

(a rectangular black sign with falling sparkles and the pink cursive words “Cooking with a Killer Robot” appears for a while before vanishing)

Hiro: C-Cooking with a Killer Robot...?

Mettaton: PRE-HEAT YOUR OVENS, BECAUSE WE'VE GOT A VERY SPECIAL RECIPE FOR YOU TODAY! WE'RE GOING TO BE MAKING A CAKE!

Hiro: Ooh! Sounds fun! I hope...

Mettaton: MY LOVELY ASSISTANT HERE WILL GATHER THE INGREDIENTS. EVERYONE GIVE THEM A BIG HAND!!! (claps as his screen flickers in blue and green and confetti rained on Hiro) WE'LL NEED SUGAR, MILK, AND EGGS. GO FOR IT, SWEETHEART!

Hiro: Uuh, okay.

Hiro managed to get the items and carefully carry them to the island. He was going to wash his hands, but Mettaton told him that hand washing show was on Wednesdays.

Mettaton: PERFECT! GREAT JOB, BEAUTIFUL! WE'VE GOT ALL OF THE INGREDIENTS WE NEED TO BAKE THE CAKE! MILK...SUGAR...EGGS.....OH MY! WAIT A MAGNIFICENT MOMENT! HOW COULD I FORGET!!! WE'RE MISSING THE MOST IMPORTANT INGREDIENT!

Hiro: We are? What is it? (watches Mettaton pull out a chainsaw) Uuh...

Mettaton (revs the chainsaw): A HUMAN SOUL!!!!

Hiro felt so paralyzed in fear, he couldn't move. As Mettaton drew closer, a ringtone rang out. It wasn't coming from Hiro's phone but somewhere on Mettaton's body.

Mettaon: HELLO...? I'M KIND OF IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING HERE.

Alphys: W-Wait a second!!! Couldn't you make a...Couldn't you use a...Couldn't you make a substitution in the recipe?!

Mettaton: ...A SUBSTITUTION? YOU MEAN, USE A DIFFERENT, NON-HUMAN INGREDIENT? ...WHY?

Alphys: Uhh, what if someone's.......vegan?

Mettaton: ….VEGAN.

Alphys: Uh well I mean-

Mettaton: THAT'S A BRILLIANT IDEA, ALPHYS!!

Hiro: Thanks, Alphys!!

Mettaton: ACTUALLY, I HAPPEN TO HAVE AN OPTION RIGHT HERE!!! MTT-BRAND ALWAYS-CONVENIENT HUMAN-SOUL-FLAVOR-SUBSTITUTE! A CAN OF WHICH...IS JUST OVER ON THAT COUNTER!!! (points to the single counter that has a red can on it) WELL, DARLING? WHY DON'T YOU GO GET IT?

Hiro: Okay... (walks over to the counter; reaches for the can but sees the counter sink into the ground and shake) Wha? What's- (reaches again but jumps back when the counter top shoots up, watches the counter grow taller and taller) WHAAAAT!!!?

Mettaton: BY THE WAY, OUR SHOW RUNS A STRICT SCHEDULE. IF YOU CAN'T GET THE CAN IN THE NEXT ONE MINUTE...WE'LL JUST HAVE TO GO BACK TO THE ORIGINAL PLAN!!

Hiro: Oh no...

Mettaton: SO..BETTER START CLIMBING, BEAUTIFUL!!! (flies up)

Hiro: This is way bigger than Papyrus's sink! (gets a call) Alphys, help!

Alphys: Oh no!!! There's not enough time to climb up!

Hiro: What should I do?

Alphys: ….F-F-Fortunately, I might have a plan! When I was upgrading your phone, I added a few...features. You see that huge button that says...”JETPACK”?

Hiro (looks at his phone and find the button under the keypad): Uh, yeah? I thought that was the name of the phone... (presses it)

Alphys: Watch this!

(a light poured out of the phone and a large yellow and red object floated out of it, floating onto Hiro's back)

Hiro: Whoa, awesome!!

Alphys: There! You should have just enough fuel to reach the top! Now, get up there!!!

Hiro: Right! (feels the jet pack lift him up) Whee! (sees two rafters appear, the top is the goal marker and the bottom is a timer with a pepperoni pizza symbol; sees Mettaton) Uh oh...

Hiro had to dodge eggs, clouds of sugar, and waves of milk. He got hit a few times, but managed to reach the top with some seconds to spare.

Mettaton: MY, MY. IT SEEMS YOU'VE BESTED ME. BUT ONLY BECAUSE YOU HAD THE HELP OF THE BRILLIANT DOCTOR ALPHYS! OH, I LOATHE TO THINK OF WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED TO YOU WITHOUT HER!!! WELL, TOODLES!! (leaves then comes back) OH YES! ABOUT THE SUBSTITUTION...HAVEN'T YOU EVER SEEN A COOKING SHOW BEFORE? I ALREADY BAKED A CAKE AHEAD OF TIME!!!! SO FORGET IT!!! (flies away)

Hiro: Really? (floats down to the ground and gets a call) Alphys?

Alphys: Wow! We..we did it! We...we really did it!!! Great job out there, team!

Hiro: Yeah!

Alphys: W-Well, uh, anyway, let's keep heading forward!!! (hangs up)

Hiro: Hmm, but using that jet pack was so cool! (sees the counter reset to normal as the jet pack enters his phone) That can! I can finally- (tries to pick it up but it's glued to the table) …..Gah. (leaves the area and finds a Save Star and seeing an ominous structure in the distance; he gets a sense of determination from seeing it) I got a bad feeling about this... (gets a call) Alphys?

Alphys: S-See that building over there?

Hiro: Yeah.

Alphys: That's the Core. The source of all power for the underground. It converts geothermal energy into magical electricity, by...uhh, anyway, that's where we're going to go. In the Core is an elevator directly to Asgore's castle, and from there...you can go home. (hangs up)

Hiro: Asgore's castle... (glances at the building) I hope I can reach it... (enters the next area and finds a silver elevator with red lights and “R1” above the doors) Oh. (presses the button to open the doors and goes inside; sees the buttons “Left Floor 1” and “Right Floor 2”) Wait, Left? Not up or down?

Hiro tried the Left Floor 1 button, and arrived on the floor. He discovered that it took him back to before the laboratory and where the two Guards were blocking before. He went back to try the Right Floor 2 and spotted a small flame spirit across the way.

Flame Spirit: Heh, I'm Heats Flamesman. Remember my name!

Hiro: Okay.

Hiro went into the next area and spotted a Vulkin with a hot dog in the hole in its head, a floating bird wearing a pink dress and holding a hot dog in her talons, and Sans manning a stand that looks strikingly similar to his lookout posts. He noticed the snow on top of the roof and wondered if it was the same one and if it is, how he got it there or if it was built the same.

Hiro: Hi, Sans!

Sans: Hey buddy, what's up? Wanna buy a hot dog? It's only 30g.

Hiro: Yeah! (gives him 30g)

Sans: Thanks, kid. Here's your 'dog.

Hiro: Dog?

Sans: Yeah, 'dog. Apostrophe-dog. It's short for hot-dog.

Hiro: Oh. Oh! Did you find that room I wanted to show you?

Sans: The one back in Waterfall? Nah. I couldn't find that hallway either.

Hiro: Oh..

Sans: Hey, I'll keep looking. It does sound interesting.

Hiro: Okay.

Hiro said goodbye to Sans before entering the next area. He had gotten a few texts from Alphys (her “dinner with the girlfriend” pic is just the catgirl figurine and a bowl of instant noodles) along the path he walked including few from a “CoolSkeleton95”. Hiro immediately thought of Papyrus and sure enough, Papyrus posted a picture of himself wearing sunglasses and flexing in front of a mirror. Hiro noticed he had giant muscular biceps pasted on his arms and also wearing sunglasses. Hiro had a good laugh as he watched the banter between the two. Along the way, he ran into Tsuderplane and Vulkin. Tsunderplane apparently attacked NOT because it's jealous of Vulkin's attention towards him. He was expecting a similar battle, but was taken off guard by a large smiling cloud launching lightning bolts everywhere as well as small planes with green auras passing by. When Hiro dealt with Tsunderplane, it retreated to the far corner away from the battle. Vulkin reassured him that Tsunderplane getting smaller is intentional. Once sparing Vulkin, Hiro continued on. He went to the southern path and found a pink item in the room. Before he could go, he got a friend request from a NAPSTABLOOK22.

Hiro: Oh! Napstablook! Yeah, I'll do it. (presses Accept; gets a notification that it rejected itself) ….But I accepted... (shoves the phone in his pocket and grabs the apron; it's pink with a red heart and odd stains on it) Coulda used this in Mettaton's cooking show. I hope those stains are ketchup... (puts it on then leaves the area and goes to the next one, seeing a pair of conveyor belts and three steel pillars with a switch on each of them; gets a call) Hello?

Alphys: H...Hi...! It's Dr Alphys! This p-puzzle is kinda...um...timing-based. Y-You see those switches over there?

Hiro: Yeah?

Alphys: Y-You'll have to press all three of them within 3 seconds.

Hiro: 3 seconds? Why 3 seconds?

Alphys: I'll t-try to help you with the rhythm!

Hiro: Okay. (hangs up) Okay... (hits the first two then misses the third when startled by the phone) Aaah! (answers the phone)

Alphys: OK! Now press the third one!!!

Hiro: I can't! I missed it when you called!!

Alphys: ….......H-H-Hey! Looks like you!!! Only needed to press! Two of them!!!

Hiro: Wah... Al- (gets hung up on) -phys...

After the laser barrier was lifted, Hiro went to the area where he faced a large area of launch pads and platforms. He didn't have to absorb the design of the area before getting an update from Alphys:

that's the last time I help with a puzzle lmao

He soon got a call from her, telling him she'll be MIA while in the bathroom and being sure he could solve the puzzle himself, before hanging up. Hiro stared at the area with doubt before deciding to take a shot. And a shot he severely missed. It felt like it's been a half hour since he started. He kept messing up the directions, accidentally launching himself onto the conveyor belt at the bottom, getting led to the ledge on the top, and getting so close to solving it, but messing it up in the end. Just when he thought he couldn't figure it out, he decided to test the platforms. With what he figured out from those times he got close, he was able to get through the puzzle.

Hiro: FINALLY!! I can keep going. Let's go!

Hiro went into the next area where there’s a Save Star, a safe on a table, and a mouse hole. If a mouse hole is here, then the cheese would be in the safe. Like the one before, if the mouse will be able to break into the safe to get the cheese, then Hiro can break free of the underground. As he continued through a rafter-filled area, he was subjected to a text rant from Alphys about how terrible Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 2 is. Hiro didn't know what that was, but it was interesting to him how into it she was, or mostly how much she hated it. He was reading the text until a familiar tinny male voice called out to him from behind.

???: Hey! You! Stop!

Hiro (startled): Y-Yeah?! (sees the two Royal Guards that blocked the L1 elevator) Uh oh...

Rabbit Guard: We've, like, received an anonymous tip about a human wearing a striped shirt. They told us they were wandering around Hotland right now... I know, sounds scary, huh?

Hiro (nervous): Oh. Y-Yeah, really scary.

RG: Well, just stay chill. We'll bring you someplace safe, OK?

Hiro: Okay. (follows the guards; sees the dragon guard stop and stare (?) at him) Uh...

RG: ...Huh? What is it, bro? (glances at Hiro) The shirt they're wearing? ...Like, what about it?

Hiro (watches both of them turn to him): Uh oh.

RG: Bro... Are you thinkin? What I'm thinkin?

Hiro: I hope not...

RG: Bummer. This is, like... Mega embarrassing. We, like, actually totally have to kill you and stuff.

Hiro was internally screeching as the area went gray-scale, leaving him facing off against the two guards who are wielding a sword. Hiro checked on Royal Guard 1 (RG1) and saw the options Clean Armor and Whisper. He saw that the rabbit guard has shiny armor but his comrade didn't. He didn't have time to think as the battlefield narrowed and strange carrotlike items shot at him from both ends. Afterwards, Hiro saw RG1 polishing his face. He tried to polish RG1's armor, but found it slippery. RG1 didn't like that and RG2 (the dragon Guard) sighed heavily. Hiro noticed that the dragon guard was sweating and figured like Undyne, he probably can't handle the heat. Diamond sparkles suddenly shot at him, and he flew around dodging them. Hiro checked on RG2 and noticed his armor looked dirty, so he helped the guard clean his armor, not realizing that he's removing the dirt that kept the guard cool. Suddenly, a giant green shield appeared on the field and Hiro went to it, thinking it can help heal him despite the flying pan and apron he donned.

Hiro: Eh? Why's it turning colors?

RG2: Can't....take it.. armor...too....HOT!! (removes his chestplate) ..much better...

RG1 (sweating): ….

Hiro: He's sweating, too? But I can't touch his armor. (glances at both of them) Maybe I should try Whisper on the rabbit guy? (floats to RG1) Hey, you should talk to him.

RG1: I...I...

(Hiro floats away from them, but notices some of the carrot items were flying all over the place)

Hiro: That was weird.

RG1: D-Dude... I can't... I can't take this anymore! Not like this!!

Hiro: Huh?

RG1: Like. 02! I like... I like, LIKE you, bro! The way you fight...The way you talk... I love doing team attacks with you. I love standing here with you, bouncing and waving out weapons in sync...02... I, like, want to stay like this forever...

RG2: …..

Hiro: …..

RG1 (sweating): Uh...I mean, uh...Psyche! Gotcha, bro!!! Haha!

RG2: ...01.

RG1: Y-yeah, bro??

RG2: ….Do you want to....get some ice cream...with me...after this?

RG1: Sure, dude! Haha!

Hiro (watches the guards look at each other happily): I don't know what happened but yay? (gives a few little claps)

Once Hiro chose Spare (after having a split-second vision of one of the guards getting by “him” and shaking it off) and ended the battle, RG1 and RG2 left the area happily., leaving Hiro to continue on. Not without getting a text from Alphys.

oopswait how's the humnan doing

Top 10 Shows That Make You Forget To Do Your Frickin Job

Once that cleared up, Hiro went into the next area. Again, it was pitch black and again Alphys calls to help out.

Alphys: Okay, I'm back! A-Another dark room, huh?

Hiro: Yep.

Alphys: Don't worry! M-My hacking skills have got things covered!

(the lights cut on)

Alphys: Are you serious?

Back in Snowdin, Papyrus was cooking spaghetti while Sans was reading a book and writing in his notebook. Papyrus had the TV on as background noise while cooking when what looks like breaking news came on. The backdrop is a cityscape at night with the video screen bordered in a thick beige square with some dark brown line on the bottom getting thicker towards the bottom. Donning a neat red suit with a yellow tie is Mettaton,  sitting at a brown desk as the marquee of yellow words scrolled across the black bar at the bottom of the screen.

Sans (exasperated): Oh no...

Mettaton: OHHHHHH YESSSS!!!  GOOD EVENING, BEAUTIES AND GENTLEBEAUTIES! THIS IS METTATON, REPORTING LIVE FROM MTT NEWS!

Hiro (shock): EH!?

Mettaton: AN INTERESTING SITUATION HAS ARISEN IN EASTERN HOTLAND! FORTUNATELY, OUR CORRESPONDENT IS OUT THERE, REPORTING LIVE!

Hiro: What is th- Wait... (points at himself) ...Me?

Mettaton: BRAVE CORRESPONDENT! PLEASE FIND SOMETHING NEWSWORTHY TO REPORT! OUR TEN WONDERFUL VIEWERS ARE WAITING FOR YOU!!

Hiro: Uuh...okay. (wanders around; finds a basketball) Hey! It's a basketball!

Mettaton: BASKETBALL'S A BLAST, ISN'T IT, DARLING? TOO BAD YOU CAN'T PLAY WITH THE BALLS. THEY'RE MTT-BRAND FASHOIN BASKETBALLS. FOR WEARING, NOT PLAYING. YOU CAN'T GET RICH AND FAMOUS LIKE MOI WITHOUT BEAUTIFYING A FEW ORBS.

Hiro: Oh, that was what Papyrus was wearing before. I'm gonna look for more stuff. (wanders more; find that dog he saw before) Hey, it's you again!

Mettaton: WHAT A SENSANTIONAL OPPORTUNITY FOR A STORY! I CAN SEE THE HEADLINE NOW: “A DOG EXISTS SOMEWHERE.” FRANKLY, I'M BLOWN AWAY!

Hiro (pets the dog then wanders; finds a gift): It's a present!

Mettaton: OH MY! IT'S A PRESENT! AND IT'S ADDRESSED TO YOU, DARLING! AREN'T YOU JUST BURSTING WITH EXCITEMENT? WHAT COULD BE INSIDE? WELL, NO TIME LIKE THE “PRESENT TO FIND OUT!

Hiro: Huh? It's not my birthday, but okay! (wanders then finds a game with white letters and an odd white symbol on the cover) Is this a game?

Mettaton: OOH LA LA! THIS VIDEO GAME YOU FOUND...IS DYNAMITE!!! THOUGH I DON'T MAKE AN APPEARANCE IN IT UNTIL THREE-FOURTHS IN. BUT I LIKE THAT.

Hiro: Really?!

Mettaton: APPEARING FROM THE HEAVENS LIKE MANNA, SLAKING THE AUDIENCE'S HUNGER FOR GORGEOUS ROBOTS...

Hiro: What-

Mettaton: OOH! THAT'S METTATON!

Hiro: Uh...okay... (wanders around some more and finds a thick book with what looks like Mettaton on the cover) What's this book?

Mettaton: OH NO!!! THAT MOVIE SCRIPT!!! HOW'D??? THAT GET THERE???

Hiro: Someone dropped it here?

METTATON: IT'S A SUPER-JUICY SNEAK PREVIEW OF MY LATEST GUARANTEED-NOT-TO-BOMB FILM: METTATON THE MOVIE XXVIII...STARRING METTATON!

Hiro: Is that the title-

Mettaton: I'VE HEARD THAT LIKE THE FILMS, IT'S CONSISTS MOSTLY OF A SINGLE FOUR-HOUR SHOT OF ROSE PETALS SHOWERING ON MY RECLINING BODY. OOH!!! BUT THAT'S!!! NOT CONFINFIRMED!!

Hiro: That sounds-

Mettaton: YOU WOULDN'T (coughs aggressively) SPOIL MY MOVIE FOR EVERYONE WITH A PROMOTIONAL STORY, WOULD YOU?

Hiro: N-No...

Mettaton: PHEW!!! THAT WAS CLOSE!! YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A BUNCH OF FREE ADVERTISEMENT!!

Hiro (walks away from the book and finds a glass of water): What's this water doing here?

Mettaton: OH MY!!! ...IT'S A COMPLETELY NONDESCRIPT GLASS OF WATER. BUT ANYTHING CAN MAKE A GREAT STORY WITH ENOUGH SPIN! I'M HONORED TO BE IN THE PRESENCE OF SUCH SUCH A HUGE LUKEWARM WATER FAN, FOLKS!

Hiro: Um, I think I'm gonna report on the dog. I think it'll be a good story. (goes to the dog) I'm gonna report on the dog!

Mettaton: ATTENTION, VIEWERS! OUR CORRESPONDENT HAS FOUND...A DOG!

(sounds of an audience awwing occur)

Hiro: It is cute. (plays with the dog, but notices something odd with its tail) Eh?

Mettaton: THAT'S RIGHT, FOLKS! IT'S THE FEEL-GOOD STORY OF THE YEAR! LOOK AT ITS LITTLE EARS, TINY PAWS, FLUFFY TAIL.....WAIT A SECOND...THAT'S NOT A TAIL! THAT'S..A FUSE!

Hiro (sees the tip of the “tail” light on fire): Why is it on fire..?

Mettaton: THAT'S RIGHT... THAT DOG..IS A BOMB!

Hiro (jumps back): Aah!?

Mettaton: BUT DON'T PANIC! YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE REST OF THE ROOM YET!!!

The entire “studio” set went crashing down as Mettaton floated towards a set of coiling pipes that connect to the area Hiro was walking while looking at the items to report. The present has a bomb sphere in it, the movie script has the same kind of bomb in the middle of it, the game has several sticks of dynamite in it, and the basketball was actually a bomb made to look like it. Even the water was flashing strange colors...

Hiro: Uh oh...

Mettaton: OH MY! IT SEEMS EVERYTHING IN THIS AREA IS ACTUALLY A BOMB! THAT DOG'S A BOMB! THAT BASKETBALL'S A BOMB! EVEN MY WORDS ARE...!

Hiro (sees Mettaton's words fall off the text box and explode on the ground): Aaah! How did that-

Mettaton: BRAVE CORRESPONDENT...IF YOU DON'T DEFUSE ALL OF THE BOMBS.. (floats to a second area where a large pink bomb is sitting in front of a silver pillar) THIS BIG BOMB WILL BLOW YOU TO SMITHEREENS IN TWO MINUTES! THEN YOU WON'T BE REPORTING “LIVE” ANY LONGER! HOW TERRIBLE! HOW DISTURBING! OUR NINE VIEWERS ARE GOING TO LOVE WATCHING THIS! GOOD LUCK, DARLING!!

Hiro: Wasn't it ten before...? (answers a call) Alphys, HELP!!

Alphys: D-Don't worry! I installed a bomb-defusing program on your phone! Use the 'defuse' option when the bomb is in the DEFUSE ZONE! N-Now, go get 'em!

Hiro found an app called Debomb! and opened it, seeing a rectangle with the word DEFUSE and an arrow pointing down at it, all in green. He also saw the orange panels he often sees when in battles. He went up to the dog which was sleeping and held his phone up to scan it. The image of the dog was moving a lot on the screen, so Hiro chose Act and the Defuse Bomb option was available. He waited until the dog was in the zone before he hit the option, watching the dog wake up and seeing a confirmation.

Hiro: Got it!

Alphys: Great job! Keep heading around the room! Try to go for the one in the bottom-left next!

Hiro: Okay! (goes to the bottom-left and sees three lasers, two orange, one blue. Hiro managed to get through and finds the video game) Okay... (catches in the zone and defuses it) All right! Next! (finds the script sliding on the conveyor belt and catches it; defuses it) Got it! (find a launch platform and uses it, finding a present) There's one! (carefully catches it in the zone and defuses it) Almost missed it! (use the second platform and lands where the basketball bomb is bouncing around, scans it and misses it as it leaves the zone but get it the second time) That was close...

Alphys: Great job! Head for the center! I'm using, uh, EM fields to trap the glass of water there!

Hiro: Okay! (rushes to the center area and finds the water, scanning it) Okay... (misses once, but gets it the second time) Way too close!!

Mettaton (floats towards Hiro): WELL DONE, DARLING! YOU 'VE DEACTIVATED ALL OF THE BOMBS! IF YOU DIDN'T DEACTIVATE THEM, THE BIG BOMB WOULD HAVE EXPLODED IN TWO MINUTES. NOW IT WON'T EXPLODE IN TWO MINUTES! (screen flashes red) INSTEAD IT'LL EXPLODED IN TWO SECONDS! GOODBYE, DARLING!

Hiro (panicking): No!!

…...

(nothing happens)

Mettaton: AH. IT SEEMS THE BOMB ISN'T GOING OFF.

Hiro (answer a call): Alphys!

Alphys: That's b-because!!! While you were monologuing... I..! I f..fix...um..I ch-change..

Mettaton: OH NO. YOU DEACTIVATED THE BOMB WITH YOUR HACKING SKILLS.

Alphys: Yeah! That's what I did!

Mettaton: CURSES! IT SEEMS I'VE BEEN FOILED AGAIN! CURSE YOU, HUMAN! CURSE YOU, DR. ALPHYS, FOR HELPING SO MUCH! BUT I DON'T CURSE MY EIGHT WONDERFUL VIEWERS FOR TUNING IN!!!

Hiro: Wasn't it nine-

Mettaton: UNTIL NEXT TIME, DARLING! (flies away)

Alphys: W-Wow...W-We showed him, huh?

Hiro: Yep!

Alphys: ...H-Hey, I know I was kind of weird at first, but I really think I'm getting more...uh, more...m-more confident about guiding you! S-so don't worry about that b-big d-dumb robot... I-I'll protect you from him!

Hiro: Thanks, Alphys.

Alphys: Ehheheh...A-And if it really c-came down to it, we could just t-turn...(trails off)

Hiro: Huh?

Alphys: Um, nevermind. Later! (hangs up)

Hiro: ….

Hiro was a bit curious about what Alphys was about to say, but left it alone as he made his way towards a long path go north. He entered the next area and saw that the building of the Core is getting closer. He had realized that since he's getting closer to the area, the more worried he was getting in meeting Asgore. He's heard so many different versions of how Asgore's like, and he's not sure which one is right. As he was lost in his thoughts, a phone call jolted him out of them.

Hiro: Y-Yeah?

Alphys: Um...I noticed you've been kind of quiet... Are you w-worried about meeting Asgore...?

Hiro: How did she... Uuh...yeah...It's bothering me...

Alphys: ..W-Well, don't worry, okay? Th-The king is a really nice guy...

Hiro: Are you sure...?

Alphys: Yeah. I'm sure you can talk to him, and...w-with your human soul, you can pass through the barrier! S-So no worrying, OK? J-Just forget about it and smile.

Hiro: Okay... (hangs up)

Sighing, Hiro stood in his spot and stared at the distant building. He could feel a little bit of his determination waning, but if he's to leave this place, he'll need every bit of determination he can muster. He forced himself to move to the next area where another elevator is and enter it. He's already been to the other areas, so Left Floor 3 is the only option left. As he chooses the option and feels the elevator move, Hiro felt a slight feeling of dread growing in him.

TO BE CONTINUED

[visander]

A Bit of Space (1/6)

Alec and Magnus’ spaceship is having some problems. 

You can read this chapter on ao3 here or in podfic version here. Special thanks to @accal1a for creating the podfic and @the-prophet-lemonade for beta reading this chapter.

Chapter One:

Magnus threw his head back with a soft sigh and kicked his feet off the side of his desk. Instantly, he was spinning. There were locks on the bottom of their chairs to stop the ship’s movement from throwing them out of their seats when they were trying to work but Magnus liked to keep his unlocked for moments like this. He didn’t get motion sick, unlike some of his unfortunate companions and, sometimes, the glare of the monitors became too much and he needed to get away. 

So, he tilted his head back as he spun in his chair and stared up at the white metal ceiling that kept the void of space at bay. After a moment, Magnus planted his feet and found himself face to face with the data he’d been looking at before. He skimmed the screen once more, like some epiphany he hadn’t thought of would magically jump out at him from the numbers. It didn’t and so, Magnus tilted his head back and spun once again. It was a little childish but Magnus didn’t really care. Spinning gave him a chance to think.

He was trying to analyze the atmospheric composition of the planet they were orbiting. It wasn’t their true destination or even a point of interest for them but they were stuck here for a while and honestly, Magnus had nothing better to do in the meantime. 

Their destination was still far off, a planet a few lightyears away that they were dropping off some supplies to but there was an error with their communications system. It was protocol to stop if the ship lost communication. So here they were, drifting aimlessly around a planet Magnus had decided to check out to quell his boredom somewhat. 

The thing was, the data Magnus had gotten back from the scan was… puzzling to say the least. He could see the thick cloud cover from his window, obscuring any chance he had to actually look at the surface of the planet he was analyzing. He wondered what it looked like on the surface and that wonder was the whole reason Magnus had decided to look into the planet in the first place. 

He thought it might be an acidic, dry planet like venus or maybe, he’d found a planet with a deep icy ocean like Europa. Discovery was always the part of Magnus’ job that excited him most and he wouldn’t be discovering much on this trip. He was coming to take scans and analyze soil, which was charming in it’s own way but it still wasn’t the grand discovery Magnus had dreamed of in school.

Besides, it might be useful information at some point. There was no information they could get that wouldn’t be useful to someone, somewhere but the report hadn’t come back showing anything Magnus expected at all. He’d expected the atmosphere to be mainly sulfur dioxide, but it wasn’t. The planet was mostly carbon. 

Magnus scanned over the readings once more but he wasn’t even sure why he was thinking about it so hard. There was no other conclusion to come to.

The clouds were made of water. Even more surprising than that, the atmosphere was full of nitrogen and oxygen. In all their years of searching, no planet that seemed this… inhabitable had ever been found. Even the planet they were headed to on this supply run - a planet that  would someday house humans - was not as inhabitable as these scans were telling him this random planet was.

Still, Magnus paused. He’d look like an idiot if he went and told everyone and it turned out his data was inaccurate. There was something wrong with their ship. Their communications were down, but maybe that wasn’t their only problem. He’d redo the scans, he decided suddenly. 

He’d redo them and, if they came back the same, maybe then he’d get excited. It wasn’t like he could send any data back home right now anyway and he really had nothing better to do. Before he had this to occupy him, Magnus had been spinning in circles trying not to go insane. 

Magnus clicked a few buttons. He saved the data and scheduled another probe to head out but this time, he set it for a longer scan. It wasn’t like they had anywhere to be. Magnus had just enough time to hit the button and close his screen down before Alexander Lightwood walked through the door into the observation deck. 

Alec was their head of communications and their captain. This whole mess was on him and he walked with his shoulders tense enough to show it. Even his lips were pressed in a tight thin line, something he only did when he was thinking too hard or once, when he’d told Magnus he had a headache. It was clear he was not having a lovely day.

Magnus spun to face him, quirking an eyebrow in his direction. “No luck?” he called, knowing what the answer was before Alec spoke. Magnus would have heard if they’d managed to establish communication again and besides, Alec’s unhappy face told Magnus all he needed to know.

Alec shook his head. “Our antenna is broken,” he stated mournfully as he flopped backwards onto one of the couches pressed against the wall. 

“It’s broken?” Magnus asked. 

Alec nodded, moving to brush back his dark messy hair. It looked like he hadn’t slept the night before or even bothered to look in a mirror. “We must’ve hit something. It looks like our fuel tank is damaged too but it’s just the backup fuel, so it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Unless something happens and we need our backup fuel,” Magnus cut in, frowning. They could use solar energy if they were really stuck but they’d have to be close enough to a viable star for that to work. It wasn’t exactly the most reliable backup plan.

“I tried to have the Angel fix it but it didn’t work,” Alec continued. “The damage is too severe. We’re going to have to go fix it ourselves.” 

The Angel was their ship. It was a grand piece of new aged technology, full of everything they needed. There were only ten of them on board, half of them there to keep the ship running, the other half there to manage the supplies they were dropping off and then Magnus, who’d come to poke at dirt when they landed but the Angel took care of them all. There wasn’t much the Angel couldn’t do but, apparently, they’d finally pushed it too far. 

“Can we fix it?” Magnus asked after a moment. Alec didn’t sound incredibly sure of himself and that alone was worrying. Alec was always sure of himself.

Frowning, Alec nodded slowly. “Yeah.” They lapsed into silence for a beat before Alec added, “I think so and if we can’t, we just abandon the mission and head back.” He took a deep breath. “Our ship is fine. We’re okay. If we can’t get the antenna working, we just go back.” 

Magnus nodded. “Right,” he agreed easily. He knew it wasn’t as simple as Alec made it sound to ‘go back’. With their communications down, they’d have a hard time with navigation. The ship drove itself based on data they got from home. They had emergency maps and had coordinated for incidents like this, of course, but the thought of manually directing the ship back to Earth was not something Magnus was going to volunteer for. “Who’s going out to fix it?” he asked instead of voicing any of that.

“Andrew and Maia. I was going to go myself but they told me they had it,” Alec said, frowning as he shifted to pick a little anxiously at his fingers. Magnus had never seen Alec do that before but he’d also never seen Alec this stressed out, or ashamed. Magnus knew he felt guilty he wasn’t going out there to fix it himself but he had a crew for a reason.

Besides, Magnus could see why they told Alec they had it under control. Alec looked like he was ready to drop. Magnus stared at him for a moment before he rose to his feet. 

“Come on, let’s go have a bite to eat,” he announced as Alec hesitantly looked up and then stood to follow him. “Maybe, we’ll get a drink in you and send you off to bed.” 

Alec huffed a soft laugh as he stood up but Magnus wasn’t kidding. It looked like Alec was long overdue for a drink. They didn’t have much alcohol on board, and what little they did have was mostly saved for birthdays and holidays but if anyone was deserving of a drink just because, it was Alec. 

“I’m serious,” Magnus insisted as he led Alec towards the kitchen. “You’re having a drink.”

Alec didn’t protest too much.

Magnus wandered back to the observation deck after he knew Alec was safely tucked into bed. Magnus doubted that Alec would sleep long enough to wake up feeling refreshed, but at least he had convinced him to get some rest. That alone was a feat to behold. Their captain seemed convinced if he wasn’t driving himself into the ground, he wasn’t doing enough. 

Magnus peered out the windows as he walked by to see if he could spot Andrew or Maia near the antenna. He thought he saw a flash of one of their boots before they disappeared out of sight again, leaving Magnus with nothing to watch. Sighing, Magnus went to sit down.

Normally, Magnus would take a moment like this to call Catarina or Ragnor on Earth, but he hadn’t been able to speak to them in days now. No one had spoken to anyone in days. They were completely and utterly off the grid and that was a lot of the reason Magnus found his down time so unbearable. He wanted to tell Ragnor what was happening. He wanted to hear whatever snarky remarks he’d have to say about it.

Magnus wondered if his friends had been told there was something wrong with their ship and that’s why he wasn’t talking to them. He wondered if they hadn’t been told anything at all. If mission control was trying to keep this quiet, they might not have said a word. Magnus wondered if Catarina and Ragnor were sitting somewhere, making furious phone calls in an attempt to find out why Magnus hadn’t called them in days.  

Both of them would too. Magnus could imagine Ragnor barking at some poor intern for not putting him through to someone more superior, yelling his way up the chain of command until he was hung up on, just to call again.

Magnus wondered if Alec’s family was worried. Magnus was pretty sure that Alec mentioned having siblings. He’d seen Alec video chatting with a girl who looked a lot like him, at least. 

Magnus remembered because he’d ducked into the call to say hello and, as he’d walked away, he’d heard the girl whistle and tell Alec to shoot his shot. Magnus didn’t think he was supposed to hear that.

Truthfully, Alec wouldn’t have to shoot much of a shot to get him, but there were fraternisation laws for a reason. It was inappropriate. No romantic involvement while deployed. No hooking up. Magnus couldn’t imagine their captain as someone who would break that rule, but maybe, when they all hit the ground again, Magnus would give Alec his number.

Despite being stuck with Alec for as long as he had been, Magnus wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little better in a different environment where Alec wasn’t always in charge of him - not that Magnus minded other people being in charge. Magnus wondered if Alec liked Italian food. He knew a lovely Italian restaurant.

God, Magnus would have killed for a fresh bread stick, a nice candle light dinner, perhaps Alexander Lightwood stretched out on a platter for him. Really, Magnus would have killed to go on a date with anyone at all. He didn’t want to think about how long it had been since he’d kissed someone or how long it would be before he had the chance again.

It paled in comparison to the real thing but Magnus let himself dream.

The communications system came back online as quickly as it had been lost. The signal was weak as hell. Clearly, they hadn’t been able to repair the antenna completely. They might not be able to make calls with it like this, but at the very least, they could send a message to base and let everyone know they weren’t dead.

‘We’re okay, stupid rock broke our antenna,’ Magnus imagined they’d write. ‘Keep the dock warm for us.’ 

Magnus moved to his desk and tried to pull up his private messages, hoping the weak signal could accomplish at least that. Despite how many times Magnus impatiently clicked it, the loading symbol spun and spun and spun. Magnus hadn’t ever seen it take this long to connect and for a moment, he was convinced it wouldn’t. 

Finally, the screen loaded, revealing a long list of unread messages. Magnus ignored the ones from base. He was sure Andrew would wake up Alec and they would contact mission control together. Instead, Magnus clicked on one of the new messages from Ragnor, finding the blurb of it alone far more interesting.

‘If you’re ignoring me to go flirt with your shipmates, I’m going to be pissed. Your friends are more important than your crush on your captain,’ he’d written, clearly annoyed that Magnus hadn’t answered his call. They had a routine of speaking nearly every night at the same time and the few times they hadn’t, Magnus had let him know why. 

Magnus frowned at the last sentence. He didn’t have a crush. Sure, Alec was cute and if he was interested, Magnus wouldn’t turn him down - but it wasn’t a crush. A crush was for kids. What Magnus had was more of a… vague appreciation for the man above him.

‘Call me back, asshole,’ Ragnor finished the message. 

Magnus clicked on the next one, which had come this morning. 

‘I’ve heard your ship is broken or something. For all the money they spent on that stupid thing, you’d think they could make one that wouldn’t break. I informed your commander of that when he called me and I don’t think he was very pleased. ‘Unavoidable’, my ass. If you die up there, rest assured I’ll sue every one of them. 

Call me back when you can. Cat is worried about you. Raphael even texted, not about you but the concern came through regardless.’

Magnus’ mouth flickered in a smile. He knew it wasn’t only Catarina and Raphael who were worried about him, no matter how much Ragnor might pretend. He hit reply. ‘We’re back online. Our antenna broke. The signal is still weak. I probably can’t make phone calls right now. We’re going to contact base and see what we’re doing. If we can’t fix the antenna completely we might be heading back early. 

Thanks for worrying about me,’ he added, unable to stop himself from rubbing it in a little bit. ‘But we’re okay. I’ll let you know what we’re doing later.’ Magnus went to hit send but something made him stop. He and Ragnor rarely said they loved each other. They did love each other but to say it out loud? 

It just wasn’t their style. Still, Magnus paused. 

‘I love you guys. Talk to you soon,’ he added at the end. He hit send before he could overthink it and write something even more sappy or erase any show of his feelings all together. Magnus sat and stared at the screen until the message finally sent and then he rose to his feet.

He could hear the whirl of Andrew and Maia entering the airlock. Magnus decided to be helpful and go wake Alec up before they had to. It had nothing to do with wanting to see Alec again or getting to see him tired and bleary-eyed, curled up in bed with his messy hair. 

That had nothing to do with it at all.

The ship was more damaged than they had originally thought. It was their backup fuel that was leaking, which was the only reassuring thing Andrew and Maia had to report. They would have been completely screwed if it was their back up tank and their primary tank, but the primary was fine. 

Luckily for them, they’d been able to write off that worry and add a new one. Andrew thought their ship might be leaking oxygen. Maia was almost positive it was. Apparently, the asteroid that had hit them was bigger than any of them had thought and the damage seemed to go far beyond their broken antenna. 

They couldn’t fly the Angel back if there was a leak. Now, they had to fix the hull of the ship and fix the leak if there was one. It was also a little concerning that their fuel was leaking. Alone, that wouldn’t be a big deal but paired with a potential oxygen leak… Well, Magnus knew that rocket fuel exploded when it came into contact with oxygen. 

Their two little problems combined could make a much bigger problem for them. 

Alec sent Maia to check their oxygen levels as the rest of the crew stood around, crammed into the communications center, waiting for a response from mission control. ‘Happy to hear from you - now, fix it,’ came the eventual reply. 

Magnus couldn’t help but roll his eyes. It was so great they had these brilliant minds back on Earth looking out for them. The crew really wouldn’t have thought of fixing it without them. Truly, they were blessed. 

Andrew pointed out that they had a roll of fiber mesh they could use to patch the hull and it probably would have been as simple as that if Maia hadn’t returned just then looking white in the face. They had all talked about the possibility that the ship was leaking but secretly, Magnus thought they’d all hoped it wouldn’t be. 

Everyone knew what Maia was about to say but still, Magnus held his breath.

“We’re leaking,” She announced. She was always quite frank, and while Magnus knew it was a serious situation, he couldn’t help but think that she could have said it with a bit more pizazz to soften the blow.

Magnus glanced to Alec, who suddenly looked like he was going to throw up. 

“It’s fine,” Magnus jumped in. “Someone update mission control.” He said, waving his hand vaguely towards the people on his left. “It’s fine,” He repeated. “We just have to patch the leak and make sure nothing gets inside.” Magnus looked around to everyone, before his eyes finally landed on Alec again. 

Slowly, Alec nodded but it didn’t look like he was completely there yet. “Right,” He said softly. He blinked for a moment and then he took in a deep breath, seeming to form a plan in his head as he did so. “Magnus is right. It’s fine. Send an update. Let’s start getting stuff together to patch the hull and find the leak.”

Alec fell silent for another second, his mind clearly racing through everything they had to do. “And someone go make sure our emergency supplies are in order, just in case,” he said finally. 

Magnus knew they would be, unless someone had been messing with them. They were on a spaceship; it wasn’t as if their supplies could disappear. There were no go bags they could grab and run with. Their emergency plan, should the entire ship fail, was to get to the living quarters on the port side of the ship, where their emergency supplies were hidden away, and hope they could detach from the ship before any massive system shutdown left them stranded - or worse, dead. But the living quarters would not sustain the crew for long - at that point, they would be stuck, floating, going nowhere, and hoping that whoever they could contact back home would be able to rescue them in time. 

It was a plan made to get them out alive as the absolute worst case scenario. When he had covered it in training, Magnus had thought there was no way they'd ever have to use it. Now, he just hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 

The crew stood there for a moment, silent as they absorbed Alec’s instructions before they all scrambled into action. Magnus went to check their emergency supplies, though he felt a little useless being given that task. 

Standing alone in the small room they’d deploy from should things go deeply south, Magnus realized that this was bad. Logically, he knew that it was, but fully grasping it was different. The crew could patch the hull and it could all be fine, but alone in the dark, Magnus let himself explore the possibility that things could also not go that way. 

Their slowly draining fuel could find it’s way in. It could explode. It could kill them all in an instant. Magnus tried not to dwell on it for too long. What else could he really do?

For a while after that, it seemed like things were turning in their favor. The emergency plan was unchanged, their supplies were fine and besides, it looked like they wouldn’t need to use them at all. Mission control had approved of Alec’s plan, thankfully, because the crew had already begun repairing the ship when they finally received another response back. Patching the hull was going okay, though they hadn’t found the specific spot where their oxygen was leaking from. 

All the fuel that had leaked into space wasn’t a problem for them and so far, it hadn’t managed to find it’s way inside. The tension on the ship eased slightly as the hours went on that nothing horrendously bad happened. Those that were certified to do spacewalks took turns working on the hull (Magnus, unfortunately, was not certified even though he’d been trained on how to do it ‘just in case’). For a while, all had seemed well.

It was stupid that they’d ever jumped to the worse case scenario and assumed the fuel would get in. It was a small leak they had. What were the odds that would happen? The ship was fixable. They were back online. Things were looking up. Besides, if something was going to go wrong, it would have already happened. 

Right?

Magnus was in the observation room when everything changed. He was sat in his chair, scrolling through his messages to see if Ragnor had replied when he heard a ferocious bang. 

Heard it, felt it - there was no real way to explain the explosion that shook through the entire ship and flooded the air with the stench of fire; Magnus felt it burning in his lungs with the first panicked breath he dragged in. All at once, every alarm the ship had was blaring. The lights went down a second later and all that was left was the glow of a distant star bouncing off the clouds of the planet they were orbiting, lighting the room in pale white, split only by the violent red flashes of the alarms overhead. 

Before Magnus could move, Alec burst into the room. His eyes were wide and panicked and Magnus could see clear on his face that he had absolutely no idea what to do. This was the worst possible case scenario. This was worse than anything they’d been trained for. 

Alec stared at him for a long, horrified moment, before he finally snapped, “Emergency protocol, go!” 

Magnus jumped to his feet but before he could even ask Alec which emergency protocol he was following, Alec was running. He ran past Magnus and as he ran, Magnus realized he was yelling, answering Magnus’ unspoken question: get to the emergency supplies and wait, in case they needed to close the airlocks and break away from the rest of the ship. But Alec wasn’t running towards the living quarters himself.

Alec was running towards the explosion and after a moment of hesitation, Magnus sprinted after him. Magnus caught up to him just as they hurled themselves around the corner at the end of the hallway and, for a second, Magnus couldn’t even understand what he was seeing. He could see the fire and dark black smoke but it wasn’t billowing out, like Magnus would have expected to see. It was all contained, trapped behind the heavy doors that led into the main living quarters and the rest of the ship. 

Magnus knew the doors locked automatically. The ship was going to contain the fire if it could and if that meant trapping their crew on the half of the ship they couldn’t escape from, so be it. 

Alec ran towards the door and Magnus wanted to stop him, but he couldn’t move. He stood frozen in the doorway as he stared at the situation in front of them. Magnus saw the layout of the ship in his head. What was behind them? The observation deck, the communications center and the command room that Alec had come running from. The port side living quarters were off to the left but there was no reason someone would have been in there. 

Their entire crew was behind that door, Magnus realized. Anyone else would have come running, like Alec had but no one had followed them. Everyone but him and Alec was trapped behind that door.

Alec reached the door as the realisation swept through Magnus. He rammed into it with the full force of his body, as if he could somehow burst through solid steel - but there was no chance of that happening. They both knew that door was locked and it was not going to open. Even the windows were made not to break under any conditions.

Regardless, Alec slammed into the door again and again. Magnus finally moved towards him and it was only as he got closer that he saw Alec’s arms were burnt from the contact. Magnus grabbed him and tried to pull him backwards, realizing then that the alarms were blaring something new:

‘Critical damage. Oxygen production offline. Initiate evacuation protocol. Critical damage-’

“We need to go!” Magnus yelled, pulling Alec backwards. 

“They’re in there!” Alec said desperately, struggling in vain against Magnus’ grasp. “They’re still in there!”

“They’re dead!” Magnus snapped. “They were all in there. They’re dead! We need to go, Alec!”

Alec turned to look at him and Magnus could see the tears burning in his eyes. Alec was their captain and Magnus knew he would gladly give up his life to save the crew but they were behind that door and Alec was not. There was nothing Alec could do now but try to save himself and Magnus. 

Alec nodded once and a tear fell down his cheek as his face hardened. He reached out and clasped Magnus’ hand tight in his own as they both started running. Magnus had held hands many times in his life but never like there. There was nothing romantic or caring in the touch. Alec was clutching his hand like he thought if he let go Magnus would disappear behind that locked door like everyone else. 

The rest happened very fast. They made it to the living quarters, all their emergency supplies stacked up against the walls, untouched.

Only this morning, someone had laughed at the mention of their emergency plan. “If you had to leave the rest of the ship, would you rather it be in an empty room or a nice living room with couches?” He thought it might have been Simon.

Magnus hadn’t truly considered it at the time. It was emergency protocol. Nothing they ever really expected to use, but as he and Alec skidded into the room and Magnus fell back against one of the couches, watching as Alec started closing the doors and stabbing at buttons on the control panel, he realized Simon had been right. 

This was much better than an empty escape pod filled only with supplies. This was their living room. Honestly, it was the worst of the two communal living spaces they had but Magnus had sat in here many times before and, for a second, he could pretend that nothing was wrong. He could pretend that everything was okay and they’d just come here to sit and talk like it was any other day. 

Suddenly, Magnus became aware that Alec must have finished whatever protocol it was he needed to go through to get the pod to detach because the Angel was speaking to them now, it’s crisp robotic voice telling them to find a sitting position until the red light on the control panel stopped flashing. 

Alec leaned back in his chair. Magnus expected to see relief on his face but all he saw was a blank, resigned expression. It almost looked like he was unfeeling but his eyes gave him away. Reflecting in the lights off the control panel, Magnus could see that his eyes were brimming with tears. 

Magnus wanted to get up and move to him. He wanted to speak. He didn’t even know what he planned on saying, what he could possibly say to make any of this any better but he didn’t get a chance to try and say anything at all because the moment the pod became completely detached from the ship, it was obvious that something was wrong. 

The Angel was speaking again but this time, Magnus couldn’t make out the words. He couldn’t hear anything because their ship was making an awful whirring sound that Magnus couldn’t even place. Magnus went flat against the back of his seat. Alec fell out of the chair he’d been sitting in, finding himself being flung towards the wall instead. 

Magnus’ stomach flipped. He felt weightless and he felt the air get sucked from his chest all at once. Falling, Magnus realized. He wasn’t weightless. They were falling. Fast. 

The last thing Magnus remembered was a horrible burning smell and the feeling of heat on his skin. He must have passed out then because he wasn’t aware of anything else until he woke up, covered in his own blood with Alec screaming.

Continue to Chapter Two - Masterpost. 

[bynkii]

Riding Random

AD(H)D Is Like nothing else

Okay, that’s a bit of a lazy subhead. Everything is like nothing else on some level. Everything we go through, as individuals, in groups is unique because we’re all different, and even the in repetition, there’s something new. (I have ten or more copies of certain songs by the same band, because each is in some way unique.)

AD(H)D is one of those…well, it’s one of the lesser brain issues I suppose. I mean, it doesn’t mean you can’t function, you don’t hear voices, it doesn’t really fuck up your life in the “living in a box by the river” kind of way. But that’s not the same as it not having a profound effect on your life and how you live it.

Firstly: I’m not a doctor. Of anything. Nothing here is based on research or interviews with doctors or scientists or counselors or experts. It’s based on my experience of over a half-century living with this issue. What I will say may in fact be scientifically dubious. I hope not blatantly inaccurate, I try to avoid that as a rule. Were my friend Mike writing this, there would be a stack of supporting evidence as big as your skull, with footnotes and endnotes and 8"x10" color glossies with notes on the back.

This is none of that. This is my attempt to kind of…well, not explain, but rather relate what it’s like being me. A guy with AD(H)D.

First, I’m not sure which version I have. I’m not sure it’s of any particular importance, at least not personally. Also, I’m not sure what it’s like to not have this. I’ve always been this way. So if I seem a tad one-sided, well, I’m also an only child. I can’t tell you what having siblings are like either.

I am sure, that for all the…well…shade (it’s as good a word as any) thrown at AD(H)D, that it’s not bullshit. I mean, I can see why it seems that way, especially given how many people use it as an excuse. “Oh, he has AD(H)D.”

Sigh.

You know, if y’all could stop doing that, I wouldn’t complain. It’s kind of annoying, using AD(H)D to get out of whatever it is you’re getting yourself or someone else out of. Because it’s not cool, it’s not fun. AD(H)D can be handy as hell, but not in that way.

I was born in 1967. I had no idea what AD(H)D even was until a TIME magazine article that happened to lay out every weird aspect of my mental world. In the mid 90s. So for almost 30 years, I thought I was, well, kind of a bubblehead.

AD(H)D is different for everyone. I suppose that’s true of any brain condition. For me…well, imagine being able to remember bizarre trivial details of shit that happened once, but literally forgetting that a gallon of milk exists. Not as a concept I mean, milk and jugs still exist, but that specific jug you just put down. You had it in your hand, you were pouring a glass of milk with it, you put it down and something distracted you, and now that shit has never existed. It’s gone. That jug has ceased to be. It is an ex-jug.

Even better, it sometimes does this while you are holding it and so your brain goes “well, I’m holding something, it must be an empty glass” and so you put the milk in the cabinet, and you will never know, nor remember doing this. It can get seriously weird sometimes. My son watched me crack six eggs, and very carefully throw the egg in the garbage and put the shell in the bowl because I was talking to him about something, and my brain decided I should go through the motions of making eggs, but hey, shell, egg, it’s the same shit, right?

I’m somewhat paranoid about getting Alzheimer’s, because honestly, I’m not sure anyone would be able to really tell until I was deep into it. Forgetting shit is so normal in my world.

Need someone to remember that 4 years ago, you said you like red hats? Done. Need someone to keep track of 53 things at once? Done. Need someone to sit in front of a log roll from an unhappy server without moving for hours until they put the errors together? Done.

Need someone to remember where the coffee mug they just put on the counter in front of them is? Yeah, that could be a problem.

This is frustrating as an adult. As a child, it’s worse. Back in the 70s, before there were “programs” and the like, no one was a “latchkey kid”. Your parents worked, and you came home and fended for yourself. Unless you forgot where you’d put your keys. Again. Then you hung out front of the apartment or house until your mom got home and gave you the look. That disappointed “maybe my son is actually mildly mentally disabled” look, because he’s now averaging losing a set of keys a week, and his keychains resemble gas station bathroom models.

You want to be trustworthy and reliable, but you forget random shit. Constantly. You have conversations you forget while you are talking. Not the subject, but the conversation as a thing.

It’s hard to talk to you because there’s no such thing as a non-sequiter in your world. That would imply there was some form of sequiter to begin with. There isn’t. One minute you’re talking about motorcycles and the next sentence it’s about genetics. You can talk all day, because you’re never talking about a single topic for any amount of time, you can’t.

Except when you can. Then it’s almost obsessive. To this day, I don’t read as much as I inhale. I’ll start reading and then it’s three hours later and I’ve finished the book and I have no idea why people are angry at me and oh…shit…there was a movie we were supposed to go to?

I’m sure there’s some vast range between SQUIRREL! and hyperfocus. But it’s pretty much a fucking mystery to me, I don’t think I’ve really ever seen it. I just fake it well.

Then there’s the overload. If I’m around too many things going on at once…wait, let me back up. So I have this thing where I track things. In a restaurant, for example, I can, within ten minutes tell you what’s on every screen I can see, which waiter/waitress is running what tables, the color of their shoes, that one is limping probably sprained her ankle, dude, what the fuck is up with your hair, the fourth table over needs to leave before that baby gets really cranky…

I have a friend, Low, who is a curious and awesome combination of strong and tiny. 5'-nothing and 160lbs of muscle. Her view on things is if she can climb it and sit on it, she does. It makes for the best pictures. In my case, if it moves, and I can see it, I’ll keep tabs on it. It’s kind of handy in IT.

But in the right situation, say, a casino…it’s not fun. Kansas City has a number of casinos, and my ex, Jenny, learned that I shouldn’t be on or near the gambling bits for too long, because after…an hour or so of being in a room with that many patterns of blinking lights and flashing and sounds and people and my brain trying to track all of it…well, I’d kind of kernel panic, and I’d have to sit somewhere for a few and stare at a wall, preferably a blank one while I rebooted.

If I’m aware of it, and now I am, I can manage it. But the first few times were a bit odd. “Bunghole, you’re just standing there.” “Yeah. I feel weird, can we find a quiet place to sit down?” After 20 minutes or so, I’d feel the normal draining back in, and then we’d go do whatever. But for a while, it was…not quite being unable to think as much as just not completely sure as to what is going on. You know the basics, but it doesn’t have the same meaning. Once, I was rear-ended on the Mass Pike. Had time to watch it happen. Blonde girl with a phone in one hand and a panicked look on her face standing on her brakes. Boom. For a few seconds, I remember staring, intently at my gearshift (car was a manual) and wonder just what the fuck it was, and how did any of this work. Then all of a sudden CLUTCH! That’s the CLUTCH! and the STICK and I KNOW ALL THE THINGS AGAIN AND HOLY FUCK WAS THAT SCARY.

But while it was happening, it wasn’t. It’s only as you start to recover that you realize shit is weird, yo, and then you get freaked out.

I have to say, I’m grateful as hell for things like email and task managers and calendaring. Because the act of having to enter my life into such things helps move whatever it is I’m entering out of the random overwritten bits of my memory into the bits that actually remember stuff. So things like Anylist help not for the obvious reasons, like remembering 45 things is hard, but for the bizarre reason that hey, I’m actually going to the grocery store and there are things I need to buy and they will be in Anylist.

Yes, I’ve forgotten to go to the store that was the only reason I’d left the house. What? Why? How? Beats me man. See, there was a dude walking down the street behind a woman who Was Not Having His Shit. Both were African-American, she was wearing a light purple, almost mauve top with darker purple pants and flat sandals, her hair had a dark red streak in the front, he was wearing a wifebeater, denim shorts, a black belt, his pants were slung low, he was wearing plaid boxers and hi-tops, and I have no idea why I remember this, or that he was around ten meters behind her, but forgot where I was supposed to go that day. Until I looked at my phone at the light and saw the Anylist notification and yep, going to Publix.

I don’t have some kind of on/off switch on this. I just try to create layers of competency that help me avoid the worst of it. I also have a lot of weird habits that are literally designed to get me through the day.

Again, I was almost 30 before I knew what was going on in terms of AD(H)D. That it was a thing, not just me being an idiot. Well, of course I thought I was some kind of idiot. What else would I think? There was no concept of anything else. Ritalin? What was that?

It wasn’t so much that AD(H)D made it okay. It just gave me something to work with. It made it a thing and not this amorphous, unknown, blob of suck. “Okay, so that’s what my brain does, and sometimes it’s handy, and most of the time it’s a goddamned pain in the ass, but at leat I can manage a thing. I can manage AD(H)D, I can’t manage being an idiot.”

It also has a lot to do with my coffee consumption. Because folks, I drink a shitload of coffee. To the point that it doesn’t make me piss any more than any other liquid would, nor does it wake me up. I mean, it can make me jittery, but that’s like bizarre amounts even for me. In truth, it calms me down, mellows me out, helps me sleep and what the fuck is is up with that?

Well, OH WAIT, before I get into that, it can also fuck with relationships. AD(H)D, not coffee. Like, you know those things they show you where you’re just with someone and you can like, do nothing but be with them? Yeah, see, AD(H)D fucks with that, because if I hug someone for too long, like my wife, or (in the past) girlfriends…I get twitchy. Like LETGOLETGOTHEREISSHITTHATISINFRONTOFMYEYESHOLYFUCKLOOKATTHEMICROWAVEANDTHEBUTTERFLYOUTSIDETHEWINDOW kind of twitchy.

It takes an enormous amount of effort to not always be the first one to end the hug. Kissing’s easier, because I’m doing something and also it tends to short-circuit huge swaths of my brain and I go all dur-hur-this-is-so-cooool. But quiet times are hard. Unless I’m in that fucked up hyperfocus, but then I’m not noticing the world around me, so it’s not technically the same thing.

It can make someone with AD(H)D seem…disinterested in people around them. Because we can’t not look at our phones or the TV screens or what have you. We can try to focus on one person, but if there’s enough going on, it becomes really hard.

That’s kind of frustrating, because there’s no good way to explain to someone you love that no, you are interesting to me. Really. I swear. But so are the ceiling fan’s pertubations or lack thereof. And the grain in the wood. And the way the bolts in the roof beams are set up, or the way the waitress is doing her job, or…shit…yeah, see, and then try to explain it to someone who cannot have any idea what you are talking about because they don’t have your brain chemistry, so you’re explaining a mezzosoprano to Helen Keller only you’ve got no hands. And you’re on the opposite side of the planet.

So anyway, coffee, or more specifically, caffeine.

the astute reader will start to feel this is written in a way to try to convey an understanding of what having AD(H)D feels like. it is a bit. This is why my “best” writing is emotional on some levels. The emotional aspect helps keep me focused. Just sitting down and writing, holy fuck, how does that work? So this is a bit more disjointed than usual. Don’t worry, I did do a couple of edit passes to make sure I didn’t leave out entire paragraphs I could swear I typed. Yeah, that happens.

The data on caffiene as a treatment in the scientific meaning for AD(H)D is at best slim. https://www.sciencebasedmedicine.org/caffeine-for-adhd/ has a decent overview. There is one interesting bit from the article though:

In a trial comparing amphetamines to 600mg caffeine daily, plus amphetamines, caffeine was reported to provide incremental benefit, but side effects were noted. That’s not surprising: 600mg is the caffeine in two Starbucks Grande-sized coffees. A double-blind crossover examination of caffeine, methylphenidate, and dextroamphetamine in 29 children concluded that while the two stimulants had meaningful effects, caffeine was indistinguishable from placebo. Overall — no strong signals of efficacy in the evidence.

First, while I’m sure that for Scott Gavura or a child, two Starbuck’s Grandes is a shitload of caffeine, for me, well, that’s…oh, I’m past that by 11am on a normal day. So clearly, I’m talking about a lot more caffeine here. Also, the article is aimed at giving coffee to kids.

I have found over the years that the amount of caffiene i consume does help. Could this be a placebo? Sure. But the one time I did talk to a doc about it, she said that for folks with AD(H)D, my level of coffee consumption was pretty normal. Or perhaps “common” would be the better word, and as long as it wasn’t making me jittery (it doesn’t) or causing me other problems, (nope), then there was no reason to worry. Well, watch the sugar and addons, (no worry there, I only drink it black) as lattes are not low-calorie refreshments.

So rather than Ritalin or Adderall, I do coffee. It seems to work, and there’s no adverse effects, no more than any other form of stimulant might have.

You know how when you look at your watch and you can’t remember what time it says? So you do it again, and you still can’t remember? Imagine that, only all the time with everything, unless you have elaborate things you do to work around it.

I’m surprised AD(H)D and OCD don’t go hand in hand. I’d not be surprised if AD(H)D and depression go hand and hand, especially in my generation, that shit sucks. (Edit: as it turns out, AD(H)D and depression do go together, as do AD(H)D and rejection hypersensitivity. So I was right I guess. Yey?)

It’s really weird when you know you have issues with procrastination, but not because you don’t want to do something. But because you start to do the thing and then you need to reference Wikipedia and it’s nine hours later but you know a lot about brain chemistry. And Serial Killers. Because Wikipedia is a maze of twisty passages…

The iPhone has had a definite affect on things. I’m still not sure good or bad, probably depends on the situation. Melissa (my wife) would be happy if I were better at not having it out. Having a career where I have to be a bit obsessive about email and similar doesn’t help. Also, it’s a device that can feed me multiple streams of ever-changing information. So it does kind of fit my brain well. A bit too well at times.

One thing though, and I really am only speaking for myself here: what I never want is people working around it. This isn’t like those fucking introvert lists (GOD no), or whatever where it’s a list of instructions on how to treat me or anyone with AD(H)D special. Fuck that. Because here’s the thing: if you let me win, what have I won?

When my son was…ten or so, we were playing “Pokemon Stadium” on our N64, and given I’d been playing videogames longer, better understanding of strategy & tactics, I won pretty easily. He was kind of upset at that, and intimated that I should let him win, since he was just a kid. I said: 

“Nope. Look, you’re right, it’s unfair for you right now. But, you can get better. You can raise your game, you can improve your skills, so one day, when, not if, but when you beat me, you’ll know you actually beat me. I didn’t let you win. I was doing my best to wax you, and you waxed my ass instead. It’ll be an honest, clean victory, and you won’t get enough of those in life as it is. I’m not going to cheat you out of even a minor one.”

Unsuprisingly, he did just that: he got better, and one fine day, he wasted me. Wasn’t even close, and folks, I was trying, but the skinny kid was not gonna have it that day. He starts jumping up and down and whooping, and then doing this weird, hilarious butt dance all the while chanting “I wonnnn, I wonnn”. Yeah, maybe it was kind of bad sportsmanship, but fuck that, he’d earned that dance.

At this stage, managing my AD(H)D is easier than it was, but there’s still a lot of surprisingly minor shit (for y’all) that I have to work harder at. And I’m not saying booby-trap the fucking road or anything. But this is my thing. My AD(H)D. It’s been a motherfucker all my life, so when I have some minor victory that you’d not even register, it means something. But if you “let me win” as it were by bending over to smooth all the bumps, what have I won? What have I gotten better at? Did I get better at managing my AD(H)D or did you do that for me? And if you’re going to own those victories, are you going to be around to own the losses? Because if you want one, best be ready for the other.

Also, I will let you do all the work for me. I’m lazy (sysadmins tend to be), and manipulative at times. If I think you’re willing to do all the work and I just have to collect the paycheck? Fuck yeah. More time for sleeping.

Don’t be a jerk, but don’t make things unrealistically easy. Just understand why I say “email me”, that it’s not me being a nerd, it’s just me working around my brain.

Also, Halestorm is awesome.