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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

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Somebody I Used To Know

Summary: Months into the end of the world, the reader helps out a mysterious man she’s never seen before. He asks her to meet up with him where she learns she used to know him better than anyone...

Pairing: Endverse!Dean x reader

Square: Endverse!Dean

Word Count: 2,800ish

Warnings: language, slight danger, angst, eventual fluff

A/N: Written for @spndeanbingo

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The Croat hit the pavement hard, the guy on the ground looking back at you as he got to his feet. You turned your gun on him, the man staring as you both heard the echoes of running in the distance.

“Either shoot me and get it over with or let’s go,” he said. You lowered your gun and took off running, the man catching up quickly. He went with you down the street before he started to veer off to the left.

“You won’t make it,” you said, going to the other side of the street and opening your jeep door. You spotted the truck in the distance that was probably his. He looked at it and then you and you sighed. You drove over and he hopped on the step up, grabbing onto the top rack. You drove over to the truck and he climbed off, quickly getting in as you both saw a swarm of Croats fill the street.

“Highway 12. Mile marker 108. One hour,” he called out through his window before he took off the other direction. You headed West and drove out of town, finding a quiet parking lot to sit and think in.

Going to meet a stranger by yourself was fifteen kinds of stupid. Even if you were packing. It could have been a trap for your gear or your jeep. Or you. You reached into your glovebox and took out a map, finding the spot the guy had wanted to meet. It wasn’t a very good ambush point, not much cover around on an open stretch of highway.

He was the first person you’d seen in months that didn’t want to actively kill you though which was something. At the very least, if it went bad, you could take his belongings. There was bound to be something useful in there.

One Hour Later

“I didn’t know if you’d come,” said the man as you stepped out of your jeep. You were the only two vehicles around and the swampy fields on either side didn’t make for a good hiding spot.

“Wasn’t so sure myself,” you said, your hand resting on your thigh holster, his matching you as he straightened up from where he leaned on his truck.

“You had my back,” he said.

“You looked like you were in trouble,” you said.

“I was. Still am,” he said with a shrug. He moved his hand away from his gun and crossed his arms. “Judging by your ride and the gear I saw in there, you’re on your own too.”

“Who says I’m on my own?”

He looked around and smirked, kicking at the ground.

“I’m Dean. Dean Winchester.”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, giving him a nod. “What do you want Dean Winchester?”

“A blueberry pie with a dollop of whip cream on top,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Shit, I miss pie.”

“I’m going now,” you said, a hand on your door already before he started to walk over. He was slow when he approached your jeep, holding up his hands. “I saved you. It’s no big deal.”

“Do you...do you want to come with me?” he asked.

“Where?”

“It’s kinda far,” he said. You undid the clip on the top of your holster, Dean taking a step back. “I’m not going to hurt you. It’d be a bit hypocritical of me considering you saved my life an hour ago.”

“You don’t trust strangers. Didn’t you learn that in apocalypse 101?” you said.

“You are as sarcastic as ever,” he said, a dry laugh escaping him. Your gun was out and by your side now. “There was a time when you would have died for me.”

“You going Croat on me?” you asked, cocking your gun and raising it up. He shook his head but dropped his hands down. “Up if you don’t want a hole in your shoulder.”

“Y/N…” he sighed but he did hold his hands up again.

“Turn around.”

“January 30th you woke up in Phoenix, Arizona in hospital room 45A at Mercy General with a burn on your lower right back, selective memory loss of the previous ten years and a tattoo on your hip of a star in a ring of fire.”

You swallowed and reached around your back, feeling the scar there. He slowly moved his right hand down and grabbed the back of his jacket and shirt, yanking them up to show his back.

“I got one too, sweetheart,” he said, dropping the clothes over his scar.

“Who the fuck are you?” you said as turned back to face you.

“I was your husband. Soulmate too. It’s not a burn scar. Our bond was literally physically there once after something happened and it left a lasting impression. It’s a long story,” he said as you raised your eyebrows. “Yeah. I know I sound nuts. But how else would I know that crap?”

“Prove that-” you said before he tugged his shirt collar aside and revealed a tattoo just like your own. “Who are you?”

“Dean Winchester. You’re Y/N Winchester. It’s been a while since you’ve been called that is all,” he said.

“I’m not married. I work at Starbucks and I tend bar. I-”

“Your father died when you were thirteen. Everyone told you it was a burglary gone wrong but that never sat right with you. When you were eighteen, you confronted your mom about it. She walked out and called you to meet later on that night. She never showed. Three days later, you got a story she was attacked by a rogue grizzly while hiking. Any of this ringing a bell?”

“I never told anyone I thought my dad didn’t die in that house,” you said.

“You told me about five years ago.”

“What’s something else I’ve never told anyone?”

“You know your mom killed your dad but you don’t remember why.”

“It’s creepy that you know that,” you said, looking him up and down.

“Your amnesia was related to something...specific. It’s more like memories were wiped clean of certain things. You can remember the past few years. They feel bland is all, right?”

“Are you like this too?” you asked.

“No. I’m the one that had your memory wiped,” he said. Your eyes narrowed and he tilted his head back. “I’m not going to answer why and I’m not telling you what’s gone. If shit weren’t bad, I’d never have come back.”

“What do you mean come back?” you asked.

“Well, when the shit hit the fan and the literal end of the world started, I went looking for you.”

“Why?”

“Cause I’m your husband, dumbass,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“Well if I’m not insane and what you said is true, I think the relationship ended when you wiped my memory, don’t you think?” you said. “I was out screwing a guy two months after I got out of the hospital.”

He dropped his gaze down, taking a deep breath before he forced his head up.

“Shit. You really do love me,” you said.

“Yeah. I do,” he said.

“I was kinda lying about the screwing thing. I wanted to see your reaction,” you said.

“Don’t do that again,” he said but you saw the flash of relief on his face. “I know it sounds crazier than Croat crazy.”

“Yeah. All evidence points to you telling the truth though,” you said.

“Will you come with me? We can go someplace safe. Take your own ride if it makes you feel more comfortable,” he said.

“Fine. But I don’t care if you do love me. You do something shady, I’m gonna shoot you,” you said.

“Funny. You shot me the night we met. Just like old times,” he said. You blinked a few times and he shrugged. “Good on gas?”

“Half a tank,” you said.

“Top off,” he said, walking over to the back of his truck. He opened the trunk and grabbed a gas can. He set it down on the road and walked back to his driver’s side door. “If we head out now we can get there by night.”

“Alright. Lead the way.”

Eight Hours Later

“Where the fuck am I…” you said to yourself as you drove up a dirt road. You saw Dean stop ahead of you and get out of his truck. He opened up a garage door and hopped back in before he pulled inside. He stepped out and waved you to park behind him. You were hesitant to but part of you trusted him somewhere deep down. You took a breath and pulled in. He locked up the garage as you got out and looked around. “What is this place?”

“It’s where I live. You used to live here too,” he said. You turned your head around and spotted a nice muscle car parked in the corner. “Baby’s not much for an all terrain vehicle unfortunately.”

“I like it,” you said.

“You always did,” he said. “I haven’t been here in a while so hopeful it’s not too much of a mess.”

“Lead the way,” you said.

“You want me to get your bag for you?” he asked. You shook your head and crossed your arms.

“Let’s see how this goes first,” you said. He nodded and went down a short flight of stairs, opening a door. You followed after, finding yourself in a set of hallways.

“Y/N?” said a voice behind you. You spun around with your gun out, aiming straight at a giant of a man, his hands up. “Shit, it’s Sam. Don’t shoot me.”

“She doesn’t know who you are,” said Dean. “Y/N, this is Sam. He’s my little brother.”

“Anybody else live here I should know about?” you said, lowering your gun, not yet returning it to it’s holster.

“Our friends, Cas and Jack, do sometimes but they’re not in. They’re out working on something,” said Dean. “Just us here.”

“Fine,” you said. You put your gun away, Sam dropping his hands to his sides.

“I’ll uh, show you around,” said Dean. “Sammy, maybe you can get my stuff from my truck for me?”

“Sure. Y/N, good to see you,” said Sam as he headed up into the garage.

“Y/N,” said Dean when you stared after him. “Let’s check out where you can keep your stuff, okay?”

“After you.”

“How you doing?” you heard Sam ask Dean later on in the night as you roamed the halls. You paused around a corner and heard a sigh from the other side.

“Surprised you’re not telling me I told you so,” said Dean. “You told me how wiping her memories was one of the lowest things I’ve ever done.”

“It wasn’t your choice to make. But I understand why you did it. I should never have said that,” said Sam.

“You were right. I’m lucky she’s even alive. If I hadn’t done that, she would have been so much safer when the world went to shit.”

“You can’t predict the future, Dean,” said Sam. “You were trying to protect her.”

“It all still went bad,” said Dean. “All I did was make her more vulnerable. I don’t know what to do.”

“You could tell her the truth.”

“She’ll think I’m nuts.”

“She seems to believe the you wiping her memories part. If she can believe that, she can probably handle the rest. Think about it. Croats are real. A year ago people would have thought this was insane. The way I see it, you’ve been out there a long, long time looking for her. If you want her to stay, you have got to tell her everything,” said Sam.

“What if she wants to leave then? It’s safe here,” said Dean.

“You have to respect her right to choose. You took that from her last time. Let her have it now,” said Sam.

“I know,” said Dean quietly. “It’s just...I know I hurt her when I did that. I could live with it though because she didn’t know. She was starting to have a good normal life. Then this happened and I hurt her for nothing. I made it worse. When I tell her, all I’m going to end up doing is hurt her again. She doesn’t deserve that. She never did.”

“Dean. The only problem you ever had when it came to Y/N was you loved her. It’s fine to want to protect her. But sometimes, you have to let people you love get hurt. You can’t protect them from everything. When that happens, they want you there to help them heal. You owe her the truth, De...and to cut yourself a break. You wanted better for her. There’s nothing wrong with that. Let her pick what better is though. It’s her life, not yours.”

“I’ll talk to her in the morning. We had a long day,” said Dean. “Thanks.”

“Night,” said Sam. You quickly headed back towards the room you were staying in. You heard Dean go past in the hall outside and round the corner, a door shutting in the distance. A few minutes later you wandered over to his room and knocked on the wood.

“Yeah?” he said. You pushed it open and saw him sitting on the edge of the bed in a shirt and pair of boxers. “Do you need something, Y/N?”

“I sort of heard you and Sam just now,” you said. He nodded and looked down to his lap. “I don’t know you anymore. I don’t know what we used to talk about or how we used to. I don’t know why you did what you did. But I do know I felt something the second I saw you. I know that you made a mistake and I know you did it to protect me. I know I’ll forgive you for it too.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because you tried to help me. I won’t be mad at you for that,” you said.

“I took away your memories and I don’t think I can get them back,” he said.

“I guess you’re just gonna have to get me to fall in love with you a second time then,” you said. He stared at you and you stepped inside, sitting beside him. “You did it once. It shouldn’t be too hard the second.”

“You don’t even know me and you’re still...you,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I think it’s my choice, Dean.”

“But why? I thought you didn’t trust me.”

“You love me. You went looking all that way for me to make sure I was safe, in the middle of the end of the world. You don’t do that for people you don’t care about,” you said.

“If you change your mind, it’s okay. I understand,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. You took one of the hands in his lap and held it, Dean turning his head. “Don’t count on it though.”

“Alright,” he said as he ran his thumb over your skin. “It’s late. You should head to bed. I’m sure you haven’t slept on a mattress in a long time.”

“I haven’t,” you said. You leaned back and shut your eyes. “Feels good.”

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” he said. “I know I’m a stranger.”

“I know. I want to if that’s alright,” you said. He hummed and lay back himself. “I like that picture over there. On your dresser.”

He was quiet and you opened your eyelids, glancing over at him as he looked at you.

“We look happy,” you said.

“We were,” he said.

“Maybe someday we can get back to that,” you said. You smiled and he returned it. “Thanks for coming to make sure I was okay.”

“Always, sweetheart. Always.”

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#spndeanbingo #spn #supernatural #dean x reader #endverse dean #au #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years

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The Last Toll

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 3865

Part One; Part Two

Summary: Trying to protect the boys from having to witness your death, you leave the bunker to die alone. Dean and Sam desperately try to find you before time runs out.

Notes: Here it is. The final part in this trilogy of twists and lots of angst. I am super proud of how this series turned out and I hope you guys enjoyed the ride. As always, let me know what you think! (But hey, keep an eye out in the future for possible continuations)

Warnings: Death, gore, sacrifice, lots of angst and tears

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

Monday 6:00 A.M.

You had exactly 18 hours left on Earth. 18 hours until a big invisible dog carries you in its mouth down to the eternal Big House. After arguing with Dean last night, it was finally hitting you. You were going to hell. An endless circle of torment that you had no escape from. Beside you, Dean turned over, still fast asleep. You smiled to yourself. You were going for him.

Carefully lifting the blanket, you silently got out of the bed. You grabbed some clothes and stuffed them into your bag. It would be easier to change in the car. You couldn’t risk waking anyone up.

You snuck out into the kitchen, quickly ducking behind the wall when you saw a trench coat laid over one of the chairs, it’s owner flipping through a book. Why can’t angels take naps? You tiptoed towards the entrance, making as little noise as possible.

“You won’t get far.” Cas scolded, not even looking up from his cookbook. You sighed heavily. Busted.

“I can’t stay.” You stepped into the kitchen, putting your bag on the table. “I’ve put them through enough. I have to do this alone.”

“You know what Dean would say?” Cas inquired. You hated when he tried to guilt trip you. “He would say,” the angel lowered his voice to impersonate your boyfriend, “‘You’re one of us. And none of us goes down alone.’ Don’t you want to be with the people who love you? With the man you love so much you sold your soul?” It was odd to hear him speak so emotionally. You could feel tears welling, but you forced them back. If you cried one more time, you’d scream.

“I got to see him one last time. I got to see those eyes bright with life again. I got to kiss him again.” He looked ready to rebuttal so you stopped him. “This isn’t the first time this has happened, Cas. I can’t make Sam watch that again. And Dean…” You sighed, “The only thing that would come from them being there when the bitch comes is more trauma for them to carry around.” You put a hand on his shoulder, urging him to understand. “Let their last memory of me be a good one.” Cas was silent for a moment.

“Alright.” You exhaled a breath of relief. You knew he would understand. Cas stood and grabbed his trench coat. “But I’m driving.” Your relief was replaced with frustration.

“Cas, no-”

“Spare the Winchesters if that’s really what you want. There may not be a way out of this, but you will not go alone.” He was using his angel voice and there was no fighting him on this one. With a huff, you conceded.

“Fine, but I am picking the music.”

9:34 A.M.

You’d kept your phone on silent, ignoring all of the calls you had anticipated. If you heard his voice, you would make Cas turn the car around. You did, however, try and read the avalanche of text messages you were receiving from both brothers.

Don’t do this.

You don’t have to face this on your own.

Please baby, answer the phone.

One of Sam’s messages in particular sent a pang of guilt through your heart.

Dean’s going nuts over here. We both are. Please just come home. If only to say goodbye.

“Regretting your decision?” Cas wondered gruffly. You shot him a look and turned on the radio. Cas changed the channel quickly as ‘Highway to Hell’ played, muttering that it was inappropriate given the circumstances. Instead, he found a station playing Night Ranger’s ‘Sister Christian’. You felt that ache in your chest come back.

“Now what?” Cas read your expression.

“Nothing, it’s just this song.” You had to laugh at how sentimental you were being. “Dean played it all the time when we first became a couple. He liked to joke that he was the ‘Mr. Right’ I’d been so desperately looking for.” The memory made you smile and you imagined being in the impala with Dean singing from the driver’s side.

“Motoring!” He would belt. “What’s your price for flight? You’ve got him in your sight. And driving through the night.” You would both sing the guitar part and laugh.

“Y/N… Y/N.” Cas broke you out of the memory, seeing the sadness in your eyes. You hadn’t even realized that he had stopped the car. “I figured you would want some coffee.” You looked out the window and saw the gas station he had parked in front of.

“You’re a saint, Cas,” You exclaimed, the grumbling in your stomach finally getting your attention. The angle looked very confused.

“Y/N, I can’t be a saint. I’m an angel.”

“It’s just an expression.” You laughed, opening the car door. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Cas knew that if you were anything like your boyfriend, you’d pursue the aisle for some pre-packaged junk food for a while before checking out. Which gave him about ten minutes to return a very angry call.

“Where are you? Is she with you? What the hell Cas?” Dean yelled into the receiver. Sam sat at the table, still trying to find you, but you must have turned the tracker on your phone off.

“She’s okay, Dean.”

“Bring her back. Now.”

“I can’t. She’ll run if she thinks I’m taking her to you.” Cas explained, keeping an eye on you as you moved through the candies. “We’re stopped at a gas station in Topeka.”

“Where are you headed?”

“She won’t say.” Cas sighed. “She just tells me what turns to make and what roads to follow. Although, she did mention something about ‘seeing the old place again’, whatever that means.” Cas watched you pay for your items and head for the exit. “I’ve got to go.”

“Cas, wait!” Dean said, but the line was already dead. “Damn it!” He tossed the phone across the table. Sam caught it before it could slide off.

“He wouldn’t tell you?”

“He doesn’t know!” The older Winchester exclaimed in frustration. “He said Y/N is just telling him as they go. The only clue she’s given him is ‘seeing the old place again.’”

“Did he say where they were stopped at least?”

“Some gas station in Topeka, so they could be heading anywhere.” Dean paced back and forth. He should have known you would pull something like this. You thought you were protecting him by facing this alone. Hell, you’d been doing it since you were a kid. Dean stopped suddenly.

“What is it?” Sam asked and his brother grabbed the keys to his car.

“I know where she’s going.”

2:14 P.M.

You hadn’t seen the house in about twenty years. Then, it was a family home- bikes left on the lawn, your mother’s tulips overtaking the garden, your terrible chalk drawings covering the driveway. Now, the wood was rotting and a tall chain link fence surrounded the premises.

“What are we doing here?” Cas wondered, turning off the truck as you hopped out. The bottle of anger liquid practically glowed in the afternoon sun. You took a swig.

“This, my friend, is where I grew up.” You surveyed the house and nodded. “And it’s where I want to die.” You tucked the bottle in your bag and climbed the fence, landing on the other side with a dramatic flare. Cas let out an exasperated sigh.

“What happened here?” He asked, reading all of the ‘Condemned Building’, ‘Do Not Enter’ signs. He followed you over the fence, clumsily tumbling onto the other side.

“When I was fifteen, my brother came home from college for the weekend. Only, it wasn’t my brother.” The old wounds didn’t hurt as much anymore, but being here again certainly made them sting a little. “It was a shifter. Now, my parents were hunters before they had us, so they figured out something was wrong…just not fast enough.” It all felt so far away now. “After he killed them, he came after me. Somehow, I got the upper hand and sent a silver kitchen knife through his heart. That’s how I started hunting.” Cas put a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” You just shrugged sadly.

“It was a long time ago.” You were able to pick the lock on the front door, the smell of mold and dirt filling your nostrils. Home sweet home.

Somehow, the kitchen table was still standing and the sliding glass door leading to the back porch was intact. Your father always used to joke that it was bulletproof. The last time you were in this room, you stabbed a creature that looked like your big brother. And that was shockingly the least complicated your life had been in twenty years.

“Make yourself at home Cas. I’ve got about,” You looked down at your watch, “nine hours and forty minutes until I become a chew toy and I’m going to spend it reminiscing and getting very, very drunk.” Cas gave you a look of disdain. “Hey, I didn’t ask you to be here.”

“You are handling your impending damnation remarkably well.” He sat down in a creaky chair as you started to empty out your bag.

“I’m not going to spend my last few hours cowering in the corner, Cas.” You opened the small tin box that you had brought. “I can’t fight what’s going to happen to me. The most I can do is stay here, away from Sam and Dean, and wait.” You repeated it over and over in your head as if you could convince yourself. Every bone in your body wanted to fight. It’s just who you were. You survived. But now, you were staring down the gaping mouth of hell for the man who taught you to live.

4:36 P.M.

You may have had a three hour head start to St. Louis, but Cas couldn’t drive like Dean could. Both brothers continued their attempts to call you but it was still to now avail. It didn’t matter. They knew where to find you.

The exact address of your childhood home was not hard to find. Your parent’s deaths were well publicized so Sam just followed the trail of articles. Sure enough, Cas’ truck was parked in front of the condemned building.

“Why would she pick this place?” Sam asked, taking in the sad sight.

“This is where it all started for her.” Dean answered somberly. “It’s where she wants it to end.”

Inside, a half empty bottle of Jack sat beside the pile of photographs you had been looking through. You told Cas dozens of stories, some through laughter, some tears, and some both. With music playing from your phone, you didn’t hear the new set of footprints until the Winchesters were standing in front of you. You jumped up from the table, the alcohol in your system making you dizzy.

“You told them!” You cast an accusing glare at the angel beside you.

“This isn’t what you want.” He replied in a quiet voice. You turned your panicked face back to the brothers. Sam’s expression held a sad understanding, but you couldn’t read Dean’s. He stepped towards you.

“You have to leave.” You ordered, backing away as he got closer. “I don’t want you here for this. Get back in the impala and leave.” You backed into the corner and Dean towered over you. “Please, Dean.” His eyes searched yours and knew. He pulled you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

You didn’t fight him. You let him hold onto you as your body started to shake. It was another one of your selfish reasons for leaving. If he wasn’t here, if you couldn’t look at his face, you could pretend that you weren’t scared. Now he was here and all of that tough-girl bullcrap was gone.

“I’m right here baby.” He kissed your forehead, taking all of your stress and putting it on his shoulders. You would carry this together.

“Why did you leave?” Sam asked gently. You turned, Dean keeping his arms around you from behind.

“Because you shouldn’t have to see this, Sam. You watched it happen to your brother, I couldn’t make you watch it again. Neither of you should be put through this.” Dean lightly kissed your shoulder.

“You can’t do this alone.” He whispered.

“I had Cas.” You smirked. The three of you laughed, Cas even cracking a smile.

“Why don’t I go to a restaurant with quick service and get food?” Cas suggested.

“Fast food. It’s called fast food.” Dean snickered into your shoulder. You elbowed him.

“That would be great.”

The sound of a clock chiming startled all of you, Dean instinctively pushing you behind him. Sam sighed.

“It’s okay, It’s only five.” You were all so on edge that it felt later. The clock echoed still, connecting a memory in your mind.

“No way.” You broke away from Dean and found the living room. You must not have heard it earlier because of the music. Sure enough, the gigantic Grandfather clock was still ticking. “I can’t believe it still works.” You mused, running your fingers over the dust covered glass. “My dad loved this thing. He never let us play around it because he was scared that my brother and I would break it.” By some cruel irony, it lasted longer than he did.

10:29 P.M.

With stomachs full of fries and mediocre burgers, you had climbed up onto the roof- which was surprisingly still sturdy- to look at the stars. Five hours passed in a blink and you were all getting anxious. Sam and Cas were inside, giving you and Dean time alone.

“I want you to have this.” You began, talking over the music playing from your phone. You handed him the small tin that you kept all your pictures in. Dean raised a brow and you playfully rolled your eyes. “And no, there’s no playboy material in there so you can wipe that smirk off your face.” Dean chuckled and draped around your shoulders to pull you closer.

He opened the box and spilled the contents into his lap. The first image made him laugh. It was of you and Sam, fast asleep on a motel sofa, your head on his shoulder and half of his body dangling over the arm of the couch. Someone- aka Dean- had drawn mustaches on your faces.

“I forgot about this.” Dean put each photo back in the box as he looked at them. Some were from when you were a kid, but most were from your time with them. He paused at one in particular. It was of you hugging him from behind as he worked under the hood of the impala, both of you laughing at something he had said. You were at Bobby’s. Ellen had taken it.

“Damn,” Dean muttered, putting the picture on top of the others. You knew what he was thinking. He’d lost so many people. His parents, Bobby, Ellen and Jo, and countless others. Now he would have to add you to the list.

“When it comes, I’ll need to borrow your gun.” You said suddenly. He gave you a strange look, taking a second to understand. “I figured it would be a better way to go than becoming dog food.” Dean winced. This was not a subject he wanted to address. A part of him still had hope.

“Maybe there’s still a way.”

“Dean,” You sighed, “there would need to be an act of God or the gates of hell closing.” You had a little less than an hour now. Dean’s eyes lit up and he shifted to face you.

“That’s it. That’s how we can fight this.”

“Dean, what are you talking about?”

“When Sam was completing the trails, he was able to kill a hellhound with an angel blade. We can kill it.” His voice had a new sense of determination.

“Dean, there would just be more.” You scoffed. He couldn’t be serious.

“So we kill them!” He said it as if it was simple. “It’ll at least buy us more time to undo the deal.”

“Dean…” You looked at him like he was crazy, but the new found hope on his face made it impossible to rebuke.

“It’ll work.” He said, more to himself than to you. “It has to work.” You both fell silent, listening to the music. You almost laughed. Led Zeppelin’s ‘Stairway to Heaven’. You sang along in your head.

“And it’s whispered that soon, if we call the tune then the piper will lead us to reason. And a new day will dawn for those who stand long and the forests will echo with laughter.”

Surely, somebody up there was laughing. Whoever God was, he sure had a twisted sense of humor.

11:57 P.M.

“We need to get inside.” Dean announced, grabbing the tin and putting it in his jacket pocket. “It’ll be easier to corner the bitch so we can kill it.”

You both climbed down into the back yard. Sam and Cas were waiting, already filled in on the plan. Neither were overly confident, but if there was a chance, they were willing to try.

“You ready?” Sam asked. You gulped and gave the three of them a solemn nod. Each man filed inside, weapons at the ready. As soon as Dean was in, you slid the glass door shut, jamming a metal bar in between the door and the wall.

“Y/N!” Dean yelled, trying to force it open. “Y/N, what are you doing?” The door wouldn’t budge. “Let me out!”

You put your hand against the glass, palm splayed out where Dean’s fist pounded. You gave him a small, sad smile.

“It’s okay.” You mouthed. His hand flattened against yours. “It’s going to be okay.” You exchanged a glance with Sam and he gave you a wordless promise. He would make sure his brother would get through this. You locked your eyes with Dean’s. You never got tired of those emerald irises. Knowing that you put the life back in those perfect green eyes would give you enough courage to face what came next.

You closed your eyes, feeling a lone tear slide down your cheek.

12:00 A.M.

This time, the clock’s chiming didn’t make you jump. The howl did. Both Sam and Dean were desperately trying to get the door open, but Cas knew that this was what you wanted. He turned away.

“Damn it, Y/N! Open the door!” Dean shouted again, hitting the glass as hard as he could. You spoke just loud enough for them to hear you.

“I love you.” You opened your eyes only to find the heartbreak in his. “I love all of you.” You cried out as a set of claws dug deeply into your calf, yanking you backwards onto the concrete.

“No!” Dean screamed. He pulled so hard that the handle of the door snapped off. Sam was frozen now, neither brother able to tear their eyes away.

You tried to hold back your screams, but it was useless. The hellhound flipped you onto your back, claws ripping through your shoulder like paper. Your shrieks were loud enough to fill the kitchen.

“Baby, please.” Dean cried, his efforts in trying to break the glass merely giving him bruises. He was forced to watch the invisible beast create claw marks along your arms and chest. He felt every tear as if it were happening to him all over again. A pool of blood started to pour out beneath you.

Your most agonizing scream came when you felt the dog’s jaws clamp around your side. You looked up at the men above you. Dean’s face was stained with tears, as was his brother’s. They both looked so anguished, so shattered. So you remembered last night. You remembered their laughing faces and off-key singing. You remembered Sam’s comforting embrace and his knowing smile. You remembered the taste of Dean’s lips and the feeling of his body tangled with yours. You remembered their eyes in the sunset, sparkling and alive. And you smiled. Your boys.

“Y/N! No!” Dean screamed in horror as a chunk of your flesh was violently torn away. You stopped moving. “Y/N!” The last toll of the clock echoed throughout the entire house and the old Grandfather clock stopped ticking.

Sam pushed his brother to the side and fired his gun at the glass until it shattered. Dean bolted through, not caring if he got cut. The hound was gone, leaving only carnage in its wake. He fell to his knees.

“Y/N?” His voice was quiet now, hoarse from screaming. Your eyes stared blankly up at the stars, blood splattered across your face. He cradled your head in his hand. “Don’t do this to be, baby. Don’t do this to me.” He pulled you into his lap. “Come on sweetheart, don’t make me lose you too. Please.”

Sam’s chest tightened, watching his brother break down. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw Dean cry this hard. Cas had vanished, so it was just the two of them now. After a moment, Sam let out a heavy sigh.

“Why don’t you head out the car? I’ll clean up.”

“No.” Dean growled, head jerking up to look at him. “I have to do this.” Dean straightened and he scooped your body up into his arms. Blood rushed down his clothes like rain, seeping through to his skin. It would stain him for the rest of his life. He pressed a kiss to your forehead one last time and gently closed your eyes.

And she’s buying a stairway to Heaven.

Tuesday 8:33 A.M.

The ride back to the bunker was silent. Even when they got back, Sam knew better than to say anything. Dean went to take a shower, shoving the small tin to the back of his drawer. Sam poured himself a drink. He looked out on an empty library and lifted his glass, as if he were toasting you.

Dean turned the water to a scalding temperature, feeling it burn as it rinsed off the sticky crimson liquid that covered his chest and arms. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw your smile going blank as the hellhound tore away your skin. And all he could hear was that stupid clock. Before he even realized it, his hand punched the tiled wall over and over again until it cracked, his knuckles splitting open and oozing blood. He didn’t even feel it. He didn’t feel anything.

It was dark, but you could still see the blade hanging above you, glistening menacingly. Spiked restraints pierced your wrists, holding you down on the table.

“Sam? Cas? Anybody!” You cried. There was no hiding the terror in your voice. The saw screeched to life and slowly lowered down towards you. “Help me! Somebody please!” You struggled, only making the spikes dig further into your skin. There was no escaping this. Your screams filled the darkness. “Dean!”

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone

The Deal Series: @writeroutoftime

#gore warning #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #castiel #supernatural imagines #winchester takeover #october #jensen ackles #Jared Padalecki #to be continued?

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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: Black Dog - part two Word count: ±2250 words Episode summary: When Sam gets an anonymous phone call with information about his father, Dean receives a text message with coordinates to different location. The brothers clash and split up, one following orders, the other trusting his instincts. Meanwhile, in the wilderness of Cascade Range, Washington State, Zoë loses grip on a personal case and is forced to confront her demons. Without back up, this might very well turn out to be her final hunt. Part two summary: After successfully wrapping up a werewolf case in Waco, Texas, the boys are on their way again. However, an unexpected phone call might just result in a change of course. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Swearing, smoking, weaponry. Descriptions of torture and murder. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Descriptions of suicidal thoughts and tendencies, depression, panic attacks, hallucinations. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09 & @deanwanddamons. Thanks, girls!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E03 “Black Dog” Masterlist

Waco, Texas November 30th, 2005 - Present Day

“Get your motor runnin’. Head out on the highway! Lookin’ for adventure, and whatever comes our way.”

It’s early morning in sunny Texas as the black Chevrolet Impala shoots down Interstate 35, just outside the city of Waco. The temperatures are still cool at this hour, but the orange sun that’s rising in the East will change that within hours. It is exceptionally warm for this time of the year, even for this far south.

Dean has his window rolled down and joins Steppenwolf’s lead singer John Kay on the vocals. The hunt was pretty straight forward; after a day of traveling and three more to track the creature, the hunters were able to make the kill. He feels ten times better than he did five days ago, the night he got pulled out of the water without a pulse. But the rest, time and a high dose of antibiotics did him good. Deep breaths aren’t much trouble anymore and the cough is as good as gone. Even the sprint to tackle the werewolf didn’t set his lungs on fire. He’s off pain medication, slept horizontally for the first time in days, and is behind the wheel of his Baby; Dean feels good as new. His way of celebrating is by belting out every word of the legendary rock classic Born To Be Wild.

“Yeah, Darlin’, go and make it happen. Take the world in a love embrace. Fire all of your guns at once and explode into space.”

His brother, who is huddled in the corner of the door and the front seat, opens his eyes slightly and glares at his sibling through the drowsiness. He’s not sure what’s more surprising, Dean’s unbelievably good mood or the fact that he’s able to hit the notes.

“Like a true nature’s child, we were born, born to be wild. We can climb so high, I never wanna die!” Dean sings as he drums on the wheel.

“Dude, I’m trying to sleep,” Sam complains. “Turn that shit down, will you?” Dean looks aside, as if his brother just said something vile. Did he just call Steppenwolf shit? The oldest of the two shakes his head; I tried so hard to raise him right.

Instead of honoring Sam’s request, Dean lets go of the steering wheel and plays the solo on his air guitar. Startled, the passenger reaches to take control in order to keep the car steady, after which he eyes his brother. As he does, Dean turns the volume button clockwise and sings along again. “Born to be wi-i-ild!” he cries out. “Seriously?” The youngest of the two shoots a look of annoyance at the driver. “Ah, c’mon, Sammy. Why can’t a guy have a little fun?” Dean replies. “It’s Sam,” his brother reminds him. “And for one, because I barely slept last night, and secondly, because it’s seven thirty in the morning.” “So? You’re usually the one who’s all chirpy at the crack of dawn. This way we have the whole day ahead, y’know. Make some use of it,” Dean quips.

Sam lifts one eyebrow and observes the driver for a few seconds. Is this truly coming from his brother, who is anything but a morning person? Bullshit, he thinks to himself. “That’s the best you could come up with?” he confronts. Right at that moment, AC/DC’s Stiff Upper Lip starts playing on the radio channel and Dean can’t help but to shout out when he recognizes the introduction. “Man, I love this song!” Sam shakes his head. All that his brother is doing is avoiding the topic of conversation. “And Erin didn’t mind you leaving before the alarm?”

Dean looks aside, thinking of the gorgeous brunette he picked up at a bar last night during their celebratory drink. “Not sure, she was still asleep when I left,” he admits. The younger Winchester scoffs. “That’s just mean.” “It ain’t my style to hang around too long, you know that,” Dean reminds his brother, defending his actions. “Why the hell are you in such a hurry? We don’t have a lead on Dad, we don’t have a lead on any case at all. Yet you dragged me out of the motel room at 6 AM to hit the road,” Sam questions.

His brother shrugs and fails to answer the question. Instead, he mouths the lyrics of the song while cheerily banging his head to the beat. “Dean!” Sam shouts, trying to get his brother to focus. “What?!” Dean bounces back, getting somewhat annoyed with his brother’s persistence. “I just wanna get to Hillsboro to pick up that lock so I can finally fix the trunk, that’s all.”

The passenger rolls his eyes at the lame excuse. “That’s not the reason, Dean. And you know it.” Dean lays his hand on top of the wheel and shakes his head. “You’re seeing things that ain’t there, know that?” “Funny, though, apparently you know that I’m talking about Zoë, without me even mentioning her,” the youngest returns with an attitude. “And do you honestly think I didn’t notice that you’re driving north?” “We’re in Texas, Sam. I can’t exactly go South without crossing any fucking borders,” Dean argues. “Not to mention that ‘north’ is a lot of square miles in this country. How the hell would we possibly be able to find her?” “I don’t know, man…” Sam stares up the road ahead, but then looks aside. ��But you did think of it then.”

Dean sighs, realizing his slip of the tongue. Okay, so maybe he did, but he isn’t going to admit that. “You are the one who keeps calling her every day. You’re full on stalking her, no wonder she doesn’t pick up.” “I hope to God that’s the reason,” Sam responds, worried. “She’s probably just neck deep in a case,” the driver brings to mind. “Zoë’s a good hunter, she knows her shit. Why would you think she’s in trouble?” “I don’t know, just the way she took off. Like she wasn’t expecting to see us again,” Sam recalls. “You mean that she was nice?” the oldest rephrases. “Look, if she’s in trouble or not, we’d be searching for a needle in a very big haystack. For now -” He turns on his blinker and exits the highway, “- I’m gonna patch up my Baby.”

Ten minutes later, they pull over on 526 West Elm Street in Hillsboro. It’s a quiet lane on the outer side of the city, on which a little auto shop called Ronny’s Garage and Wrecker Services is situated. It’s not a big place, just a shed, from which the Stars and Stripes flag flutter playfully. A big Chevrolet truck is parked in front of the lawn, and several wreckages fill the large yard behind the house. On the other side of the sober home next to the shed, there’s a small gas station.

Dean cuts the engine and gets out of the car. A largely built man with big sideburns and a slight limp in his walk shows up from under the garage door and moves into the sun. Whipping his hands clean with a dirty cloth, he smiles at the sight of the ‘67 Impala. The oldest of the two Winchester brothers walks up the driveway. “Ronny Davis!” Dean grins as he approaches him. “Man, it’s good to see ya.” “Long time, no see, Winchester,” the big man says, embracing the hunter.

Dean pats him on the back and restores the space between them. It has been a while. Last time he saw the brawny guy was at a shady diner in Tampa, where he and John helped Ron out on a Djinn case. It must have been four years ago, at least. Sam just left for college around that time. “How’s your old man?” he wonders. “He’s alright,” Dean says, keeping up appearances. “Workin’ another case.”

It’s not a lie. Well, technically it’s not. He will leave out the part where his father is missing, though. Not telling the truth to the old friend is not something he’s comfortable with, but he will do anything to make sure his father’s work isn’t jeopardized. Sam was eager to reach out to other hunters in order to find him and although Dean wants to track him down just as well, he prefers to keep this in the family, letting sleeping dogs lie. Who knows who, or what, might be listening in. They will find Dad, when he wants to be found.

The two men enter the garage, where a 62’ Lincoln Continental lays on the operating table with a bared engine bay. While Dean nods at the car with appreciating eyes, Ronny turns around to observe the youngest Winchester for a moment, who gets out of the car. “I see Sam is back in action.” “Yeah, dragged his ass back into the game,” Dean replies with a trace of regret in his voice. “He’s an excellent hunter. We can use a few good men like him,” Ronny says. “Especially now that one of the very best was sent on early retirement.” Dean chuckles at his comment and glances down. “How are you, by the way?” Ron pulls up the pant leg of his overhaul, revealing the bionic prosthetic. “It doesn’t even hurt a bit,” he jokes. “Ruguru took it right off, knee and all.” “I’m sorry, man,” Dean sighs, his sympathetic eyes meeting Ronny’s. “It’s quite alright, actually,” he assures, smiling at the ground. “I mean, I still have holy water on my nightstand and a sixgun by the door, but instead of killing monsters I fix cars now. Life could be worse.”

Dean can’t help but to agree on that. A small prick of jealousy pierces his heart, because deep down, he wouldn’t mind living the ordinary life. Sure, he has embraced hunting, or at least acts like he has. He finds fulfillment in the job, saving people who are in need and ridding the world of evil, but it comes with great sacrifice. Who knows, maybe when they finally find the son of a bitch that killed his mother, he can lay down his weapons. Some day.

The former hunter has walked to his workbench on which a dissected transmission box lays bare. “So, what brings you here?” “Passing through, just wrapped up a case in Waco,” Dean tells him. “Some scumbag tried to break into the trunk, though. The lock is busted, couldn’t fix it. And since you have six and a half a Chevy in your backyard, I figured you’d be the guy who could help me out.” “I actually dismantled a 69’ Caprice last week, same lock as the ‘67.” He moves a few boxes around, snuffling through the thousands of parts. In this organized chaos Ron is able to find what he’s looking for and pulls the lock plus keys from a drawer. “Let’s get to work,” Dean suggests, contented.

As the mechanics take a look at the Impala, Sam wanders off. Not going anywhere in particular, the youngest Winchester strolls down the crooked sidewalk, taking in his surroundings. None of the lawns in the neighborhood are taken care of, no one made the effort to water the grass. The houses seem neglected, paint is coming off the wooden frames and weeds growing through the tiles.

With a sigh he takes out his phone. Scrolling through the list of last outgoing calls, Zoë shows on the display over and over again. Dean’s right; he is stalking her. Despite that thought, he presses the green button and puts his new Blackberry against his ear, since the last one perished in the lake in Paragould.

“This is the voicemail of Zoë Sullivan. You can leave a message after the--”

Annoyed, Sam hangs up and walks on. As he enters the small shop by the gas station, a bell rings. A middle aged woman behind the counter looks up and greets him politely. He gives her a nod and takes a few candy bars from the selves, since there is no healthy alternative in stock to choose from. So much for breakfast, but at least this will save them from starvation. “That will be $ 3,60, sir,” the lady informs while she puts the bars in a plastic bag. He passes her a five dollar bill and takes the bag and his change. As she wishes him a nice day, he leaves. The sun almost blinds him, still hanging low, but shining brightly already. Sam narrows his eyes and starts to make his way back to the garage, when his phone rings. A bit startled, he hastily takes out his phone, hoping it’s Zoë, but the caller ID isn’t identified on the display. While wondering who it could be, he answers. “This is Sam.” “Sam Winchester?”

A bit stunned, the young hunter looks back at his display to make sure the woman on the other end of the line isn’t Zoë. The voice coming through is different, softer, with a slightly dissimilar accent. Sam digs deep down his memory, but he doesn’t recognize the person on the phone. “Who is this?” he asks, still cautious. “I have some information for you.” Whoever she is, she got his attention. Sam tries to not sound too curious as he responds. “What kind of information?” A short silence follows before the girl answers, but when she does, her words bring his heart and mind to a full stop.

“I know where your father is.”

There you have it, the first chapter of the new episode “Black Dog”. I hope I got your attention! Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read part three here

#Dean Winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester fanfiction #Dean x OFC #Sam x OFC #Supernatural OFC series #Supernatural series #Dean Winchester series #Sam Winchester series #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Zoë Sullivan #Supernatural fanfiction #SPN #SPN fanfiction #Supernatural: the Sullivan Series #STSS #1x03 black dog #Kate Huntington

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metaphorical-love-for-a-car · 4 years

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Sunshine After Rain-- Connor (RK800) x Reader (Part 2)

Summary; After the death of your little brother, Cole, your dad hated androids. He blamed them for Cole's death. Hank couldn't stand to be around them. How the hell are you supposed to tell him that your soulmate is an android?

Warnings; swearing, terrible writing

Word Count; 3.2k

Notes;

Part One

Your mind felt heavy. How could your soulmate possibly be an android? There was no way you could tell Hank, not at the moment, at least. You glanced over at him. He was sitting at his desk, pouting over whatever Fowler just told him. You knocked on the captain's office door. Fowler looked up from his paperwork and motioned for you to enter. "I gotta get some air. I'll be back at some point this afternoon." You started to leave, but he called you back in.

"Actually, I'm gonna need you to stick around. An AX400 attacked its owner and kidnapped the guy's daughter. It was spotted down in the Raven Dale district." He reached into a bin and pulled out a sealed bag containing a pink sweater. "I want you to go down there with Hank and Connor to help them track down the kid. Her dad brought this by this morning." You carefully took the bag and examined it. "You'll be able to get some air in the Raven Dale district, right?" You sighed, nodding.

As you walked out of Fowler's office, you saw Hank shove Connor against a wall. Hank yelled at Connor to stop pissing him off. Another officer politely got Hank's attention back to the case at hand. "Hey, dad, Fowler wants me to tag along to see if I can help track the kid down." You called out, catching up to his retreating form.

"Good, I'll have someone to help me keep that plastic bastard in check." You rolled your eyes.

"I'm sure he's not that bad." Hank shot you a disgusted look.

"You've obviously hardly been around the thing. It's fucking annoying."

To save time, the three of you rode together in Hank's car. No one said a word. Awkward silence reigned until Hank started blasting heavy metal. Every once in a while, you would accidentally make eye contact with Connor in the rearview mirror, but you would both quickly look away. You tried to keep you attention on your dog and the case, but your mind kept roaming to the incident with Connor. Sure, he was pretty handsome, but how would a relationship with an android even work? You shook your head in an attempt to clear all the thoughts that were cluttering your mind.

As soon as the car stopped, you clamored out. Hank raised a brow at you but didn't say anything. He walked over to another officer, and the two started questioning the nearby witness. You attached the leash to your dog's collar and led it out of the car. A hand wrapped around your arm, and color exploded before your eyes. You gasped, turning to face Connor. "I do not understand what is happening every time we make contact. My programing is unable to process the circumstances. I feel it is best to remind you, (y/n), that I am an android. I am not a living being capable of having a soulmate." You pulled away from his grip.

"I never said you were," you retorted. Connor nodded.

"I am glad we can agree on that." You rolled your eyes and snatched the evidence bag from the car. Hank walked over to the two of you. He and Connor started talking about deviants having emotions. You opened the bag and carefully pulled out a corner of the soft fabric, holding it out to your dog's direction. It sniffed the sweater before turning its nose to the air.

"It's been raining a lot. Hopefully we can still track it down." Hank crossed his arms, watching the dog sniff around. The dog barked, leading you across the street. You pushed open a gate, allowing your dog to investigate a broken down car. It then made its way to a hole in a chainlink fence separating the lot from an abandoned house. The dog barked again, pawing at the fence. "We got a lead!" You called out. You got down on your knees and crawled through the hole. Moments later, Connor was following suit.

Hank and the other officers used bolt cutters to remove the lock on the front gate. Your dog tugged on its leash, trying to go towards the house. You looked at Connor and nodded. He went in front of you and knocked on the door. "Anybody home?" He shouted. The two of your waited a moment. You could hear shuffling inside. Connor swung the door open and marched inside. You stood in the doorway. Your eyes scanned the area, and your hand hovered over the pistol in your belt. Connor approached the damaged android that was sitting at a table in the middle of the room. The other android, Ralph, swore that he had not seen anyone. Your dog sniffed the floor then snorted. You loosened the leash, allowing the dog to follow the scent trail. You slowly crept closer to the staircase while Connor looked around the main threshold.

Without warning, Ralph leapt from the table and grabbed you. His arms tightened around you. You hardly breathe, let alone move from his grasp. He yelled at the AX400 to run. Your dog snarled and barked wildly. "Down!" You shouted at the animal. The last thing you needed was for it to attack one of the androids or the little girl. The dog laid on the ground as commanded but continued to snarl at Ralph. Connor pulled Ralph away from him, shoving Ralph to the ground. Hank jogged into the house.

"What the hell is going on?"

"It's here. Call it in!" Connor shouted before dashing out the door. You picked up the leash and went to follow him, but Hank blocked your path.

"Are you okay? You've been acting weird all morning."

"Dad, I'm fine. Shouldn't we focus on the task at hand?" You huffed, moving around him. You ran out of the house. Another officer told you what direction they went. "Then why the hell are you just standing here?" you muttered, dashing down the sidewalk. You dodged civilians as you thundered down the street with your dog at your side. You saw an officer dash down an alleyway and followed. He aimed his gun at the deviant, but Connor stopped him from shooting. You all watched as the deviant and the little girl slid down to the highway. Hank came up from behind, clearly out of breath.

"Oh, fuck. That's insane."

"There's no way they'll make it across alive." Connor started to scale the fence, but Hank pulled him back down. They started arguing about whether he should go after them or not. Connor decided to ignore Hank and continue to climb the fence. You reached up and grabbed his arm. He looked down into your eyes. "Come on, Connor. We don't need you getting destroyed again. It'll just slow down the investigation,” you tried to reason. He looked out onto the highway, and you followed his gaze. You watched the different colored vehicles zip down the road. You glanced back up at him. "Connor, please, just get down from there. We found them once, I'm sure we'll be able to find them again." Connor blinked slowly.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY

He slowly climbed back down, and you removed your hand from his arm, sighing as the color drained from your vision.

You and Hank started walking back to the car. "How the hell did you do that?" he inquired with raised brows. You shot him a confused look. Hank scoffed. "How did you get it to listen to you? The damn thing seems to never hear a word I say." You shrugged.

"I don't know. Probably because of my charming personality, which is something you seem to lack." You playfully elbowed his side. Hank gave an exasperated laugh.

"Oh yeah, very funny." He stopped, putting a hand over his stomach. "I'm starving. We should grab a bite before heading back to the station." You smiled, already knowing where he was thinking about going.

"Hell yeah!" You climbed in the backseat, letting Connor sit shotgun. Hank turned up the music as soon as the engine sputtered to life. You gasped and gently shook Hank's shoulder. "Dad, play Killer Queen!" Hank rolled his eyes at your childish antics but complied, reaching up to adjust the stereo. You smiled and sang along to the music that was blasting from the old car's speakers. You poked Hank's shoulder until he finally started to sing too. "Connor, join in! You're the only one not singing." He stared at you with furrowed brows. "Quit being a party pooper and sing!" He turned his gaze to Hank, who just shrugged.

"Might as well give in Connor, they'll just keep buggin' ya until you do." Connor sighed. He mouthed along to the words. You lightly thumped his temple.

"That's not singing," you teased. Connor rolled his eyes and finally joined in. The three of you sang without a care in the world. It took him a while to warm up, but Connor eventually started singing as loud as you. "She's a killer queen! Gunpowder, gelatin dynamite with a laser beam-- guaranteed to blow your mind!"

"I swear, sometimes you act like you're still a child," Hank said as he parked the car. When he climbed out, you leaned forward to look at Connor. He was smiling.

"See, wasn't that fun?" He slightly tilted his head with a hum.

"Yes, I suppose it was." You smiled back at him before climbing out of the car. Connor stared at his lap. His brows knitted together. He wasn't supposed to develop emotions. He wasn't supposed to have a soulmate. He's an android, not a living being. He wouldn't let himself become a deviant.

You caught up with Hank at the counter of the little food truck. Although it wasn't the healthiest of choices, Chicken Feed made one damn good burger. You weren't too hungry, so you just ordered some tater tots and a soda. The owner, Gary, was a good friend of Hank's. He usually didn't charge either of you for your food, which you were very grateful for. As the two of you waited for your orders, Connor came to stand beside Hank. "Look, you don't have to follow me around look a poodle," he huffed. Connor tried to apologize to Hank, which made him laugh. You thanked Gary when he handed over your food. You followed Hank over to one of the tall tables nearby, and Connor followed behind you. The android made a snarky comment about how you both shouldn't eat your meals because it was unhealthy. Hank shrugged and continued to eat his burger, while you threw a tater tot at Connor.

"Unlike you, we only live once. So I will continue to eat whatever the hell I want." Hank snorted, and Connor looked slightly offended by the fact that you threw a tater tot at him. There were a few brief moments of silence before Connor spoke again.

"Is there anything you'd like to know about me?" Hank wrinkled his nose.

"Hell no.. Well, yeah, why did they make you look so goofy and give you that weird voice?" You laughed aloud but quickly covered your mouth to stifle your giggles. Hank looked slightly proud at his joke while Connor just raised a brow. He then explained that he was specifically designed to work harmoniously with humans. Hank nodded, as if he understood. "Well, they fucked up." You snorted.

"Leave him alone, dad. You're not the best looking either." Hank scoffed and rolled his eyes. A wide smile crossed your face.

"Don't you fucking dare say it."

"You're giving him grief about having a weird voice when you're the one that sounds like Mr. Krabs from SpongeBob!" you said in between laughs. Hank nudged you with his elbow, and you retaliated by throwing a tater tot at him. Connor cleared his throat and suggested that they reconvene by discussing the deviant cases. You sipped on your soda as they talked. You were only half paying attention, glancing at the two in between bites.

"Adapting to human unpredictability is one of my key features," he said with a wink. You started choking on your drink. Hank looked at you quizzically. You grimaced and cleared your throat. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

"Sorry, it went down the wrong way." You coughed before popping the last tater tot into your mouth.

Connor started to blink rapidly. His LED indicator flashed. He alerted the two that he had just received information concerning a deviant case not far from their current location. Connor suggested that they go investigate once you two finished your meals. With that, he turned on his heel and headed back to the car. Hank turned to face you. "So, what was all that about?" You feigned confusion, and he just raised a brow at you, waiting for you to answer.

"Nothing, dad. Like I said earlier, I'm fine." Hank hummed and sipped on his drink, clearly not believing you. You rolled your eyes and threw your trash in a nearby trashcan. "Well, since you've got another case, I guess I'll be sticking around a little while longer."

You followed Hank out of the elevator. Casting a glance over your shoulder, you saw Connor still standing in the elevator with his eyes closed. "What is he doing?" You looked over at Hank. He threw his hands up.

"I don't understand half the things he does. Hey, Connor!" The android opened his eyes to see the two of you staring at him. "Did you run out of batteries or what?" He apologized, stating that he was making a report to CyberLife. You raised your brows in awe.

"You can do that just by closing your eyes?" Connor nodded. "That's so cool! I wish I could do that. It would make paperwork hella easier." Hank snorted.

"You got that right." He started walking down the hall, and you motioned for Connor to follow. Hank grumbled about having to investigate a strange noise. Connor walked around the hall, analyzing everything. You squinted at a large pile of feathers near the apartment door.

"That's a lot of feathers. I wonder if the deviant has a pet bird or two."

Connor knocked on the door but received no answer. He looked to you and Hank, and you just shrugged in response. He knocked louder. Still no answer. He knocked one last time, announcing that they were with the Detroit Police Department. A loud crash sounded from the other side. Within seconds, Hank had his gun out and was standing in front of you. "You two, stay behind me." You pulled out your own weapon. Connor swept you behind himself.

"Connor, I can take care of myself ya know," you muttered.

"I can be replaced, and as you pointed out earlier, you only live once. Having someone injured could be detrimental to the investigation."

"Fine," you huffed. Hank kicked the door in. He led the way inside the apartment, making sure that no one was hiding around a corner before entering a room.

The three of you separated into different rooms. You walked into the living room. You frowned as pigeons flew all around the room upon your entrance. You made sure to watch your step, not wanting to get shit all over your shoes. A large drawing on one of the walls caught your eye. You made your way to it and traced its details with your finger. Connor came to stand beside you. He seemed more interested in an urban farm poster than the drawings. He peeled back the poster, discovering a hole in the wall that was hiding a journal. Connor pulled it out and flipped through the pages. You leaned over to look at it and furrowed your brows. "Do you have a program that can decode it?" Connor tucked the journal in a pocket inside his jacket.

"No, it's indecipherable." You hummed, turning to face the closet next to you. You swung open the doors and screeched. Hank and Connor swirled around to face you. You swung your arms wildly as a flock of pigeons flew out of the closet.

"Fucking rats with wings!" you hissed. Hank's laughter filled the air as you scowled at him. Even Connor seemed amused. "You would've screamed too if they were coming for you!" You turned to Connor. "If you don't wipe that smug smile off your face, I'm gonna shove a pigeon in your face." He tilted his head.

"How can I wipe away a facial expression?"

"You have so much to learn about slang," you sighed. The three of you continued to search around the small apartment. Hank would randomly make a smartass comment about the pigeons just to annoy you, and you would retaliate by flipping him off.

Without warning, someone fell from the ceiling and knocked Connor over. When the deviant ran out of the apartment, Hank shouted something about chasing it. Connor was the first to dash out of the door, and you attempted to keep up until they stared doing parkour type shit. You and Hank gaped at the two androids as they started jumping on to moving trains. The two of you somehow managed to find another way around and made it to the greenhouses. The deviant ran into Hank, and he fell over the ledge. Everything seemed to go in slow motion. Your heart skipped a beat as you lunged forward in attempt to help pull him back to safety. Connor was stuck between chasing after the deviant or helping you. "Connor, get your ass over here and help me!" You shouted, cutting through his analysis.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY.

He clinched his jaw as he stepped forward. Connor reached over and helped you pull Hank back onto the roof. You sighed in relief. Hank got to his feet and ranted about how they would have caught it if it wasn't for him.

"Dad, don't say that. It'll be okay. We know what it looks like, and I'm sure we'll be able to track it down again. Right, Connor?" The android nodded.

"It wasn't your fault, Lieutenant. I should've been faster."

"Both of you need to quit being so hard on yourselves. We did good today." Hank nodded and started walking back through the greenhouses.

You gently grabbed Connor's arm to stop him. When he turned to face you, you wrapped your arms around him in an embrace. He stiffened, unsure of what to do. Connor's LED flashed yellow until it settled on blue as he returned the embrace. "I know your main goal is to complete your mission with capturing deviants, but I just.." You paused, sighing. "I just wanted to thank you for what you did back there." You pulled away from the embrace, but kept a hand on his arm so you could see the color in his eyes. "My dad's the only family I have left. I would go batshit crazy if something bad happened to him and there was something that could've been done to prevent it." Connor's eyes softened as he looked over your facial features. He went to move his hand but hesitated. He took a breath before reaching up to touch a strand of your (h/l), (h/c) hair.

"Of course, (y/n)."

Hank turned around and saw the two of you. At first he scowled, but then he saw how gentle Connor was with you. He hummed, deep in thought. Hank turned on his heel and continued walking.

~*~*~

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shemakesmusic-uk · 4 years

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TRACK BY TRACK BREAKDOWN: Daddy's Country Gold LP by Melissa Carper

Singer-songwriter and upright bassist Melissa Carper has released her new album Daddy's Country Gold today.

Carper’s refreshingly unique style calls to mind greats like Kitty Wells, Billie Holiday, and Loretta Lynn, beautifully conveyed in the grooves of the album’s 12 sparkling gems. Carper enlisted fellow bassist Dennis Crouch (The Time Jumpers) and producer/engineer Andrija Tokic (Alabama Shakes, Margo Price) to co-produce the album and bring her dream to life. Recorded live to tape at Tokic’s analog studio wonderland The Bomb Shelter in Nashville, the album features Crouch (bass), Chris Scruggs (guitar, steel guitar), Jeff Taylor (piano, organ, accordion), Matty Meyer (drums, percussion), Billy Contreras (fiddle), with guest appearances from Brennen Leigh, Sierra Ferrell, and legendary pedal steel maestro Lloyd Green.

Daddy’s Country Gold is a collection of glittering Carper originals of the country, western swing, and jazz variety. From the first notes of album opener 'Makin’Memories,' to the whimsical 'Would You Like To Get Some Goats,' and the heart-wrenching tenderness of album closer 'The Stars Are Aligned,' this lifetime of work, experience, and wanderlust culminates in a beautiful portrait of heartfelt music, written by a road-lovin’ gal who has lived these songs and spent her life playing music for folks that still love the real thing.

We asked Melissa to breakdown Daddy's Country Gold track-by-track to give us more insight into what the songs on the LP are about. Read it below.

Makin' Memories

Most of my songs' inspirations will come just from a beginning phrase or idea and then they will take off from that. With 'Makin' Memories,' the inspiration came from a conversation I was having with a friend, they were joking about 'Makin' memories and keepin' your memories.' I thought it was funny and a good song idea. The first line came to me, 'I'm makin' memories I'd like to remember.' I always have a hard time remembering people's names, especially getting introduced to so many folks at shows and traveling all around, so thus 'Larry and Steve.' Then, of course, there is the whole idea of not remembering what happened when you have had too much to drink, something I may have done a time or two. This is just a fun, lighthearted song that hopefully makes people chuckle. I love Frank Sinatra and this song happened to take on a bit of that Sinatra flair.

I Almost Forgot About You

The idea for 'I Almost Forgot About You' came from a weekend in which I had a very good time and had managed to forget about a love interest that I had been obsessing about. When I got back home that phrase came to me, 'I Almost Forgot About You,' and I realized I had a song there. I just kind of tied in the various lost loves of my life to come up with the rest. The bridge for this song came later and sort of magically. I primarily write without an instrument in hand and develop the words and melody first and then I sit down and figure out the chords after. This bridge I am particularly happy with the spaces and the way the phrasing waits. It came to me that way, and in fact, this entire song had a nice easy flow with the way it all came. I like it when that happens, feels like you are getting help from the universe.

Back When

A lot of my songs are based on my real-life experiences, and with 'Back When,' every single word of that was lived and true. I started writing it a bit after a break up while longing for the relationship I once had with someone, that is--the beginning of the relationship when we were in love and everything was wonderful. It was written with a hopeful desire that things could be as they once were, and though that never happened, I feel like this song does have that hopeful air that maybe 'back when' could happen again, for any relationship that has lost that spark.

Old Fashioned Gal

'Old Fashioned Gal' was inspired by spending some time in the beautiful country of West Virginia. I did receive help from a West Virginian on the names of flowers and such. Before writing it, I had been listening on Sirius radio to a station with old jazz tunes--if I remember correctly--while driving back from a long tour with the Carper Family. Usually, if I listen to a certain style over and over, the next thing I write will have that influence. Like I do with most of my songs, I developed the melody and lyrics first in my head and then sat down to find the chords on guitar. It ended up having a surprising amount of chord changes in the chorus and changing in odd spots rhythmically, but that's what the melody dictated and I like the way it twists and turns and throws you a bit off-balance there in the chorus.

You're Still My Love

'You're Still My Love' is just a sad love song and written from real-life experience. I had been listening to Jolie Holland before I wrote this one and I think it affected the embellishments in the melody. Also, I think Patsy Cline came out, probably from listening so much to Patsy in my childhood. This one wrote itself real quick and I remember camping and sleeping in the back of my van while writing it.

Would You Like to Get Some Goats?

When I wrote 'Would You Like to Get Some Goats' I had a girlfriend at the time whose dream was to have a goat farm. I had fun with double-entendre and metaphors in this one. And it kind of likens the commitment of getting goats with the commitment of marriage. I have heard goats are quite a commitment but they sure are cute when they are little babies.

My Old Chevy Van

'My Old Chevy Van' is an emotional song for me. I inherited my family's 1991 Chevy Van and had been driving it for six years or so when I moved from Arkansas to Austin, Texas in 2009. I drove it around Texas for a year or two and then felt like it was time to sell it as maintenance was getting expensive and it got terrible gas mileage. I had lived in the van at various times, having a traveling lifestyle, and then there were all the memories it held from childhood. At the time of writing the song, both my mom and dad had already passed on. I had no idea when I sold this van how sad I would be because it had such a connection to them. I still wish I had not sold it and just kept it around as a guest house. The seats in back folded out to be a bed and it was quite comfortable to ride in with the luxury bucket seats. I named her 'Barbie' because the pink and purple paint job reminded me of my Barbie van I had growing up. I had been listening to Hazel Dickens a bunch when I wrote 'My Old Chevy Van' and I feel that was influential. This song needed a bridge and my old bandmate, Jan Bell (who knew Barbie), helped me find some lyrical ideas that fit just perfectly for the bridge.

Arkansas Hills

I wrote 'Arkansas Hills' when I was driving back from a Christmas trip to Wisconsin. I started writing it around St. Louis and I did not have a smartphone to give me directions. I had probably scribbled some directions down or was looking at a map and I remember telling myself out loud a few times, so I would remember the highways, '44 West out of St. Louis to 65 South,' and then I thought to myself well that's a nice start to a traveling song. So I started writing it while I was driving down the road, and had it pretty much finished by the time I was pulling into 'my little log cabin' in Arkansas--except I didn't really live in a log cabin, but it sounds good in the song. Donna Farar of Mountain View, Arkansas helped me write a fourth verse, which I felt the song needed. Donna wrote all the lyrics to Willie's big hit 'The Last Thing I Needed the First Thing This Morning' and she actually lives in the middle of the woods in Arkansas in a cabin, so I felt that enlisting her help was a perfect choice.

It's Better if You Never Know

'It's Better if You Never Know' is one of my more recent songs and it was inspired simply by a conversation with songwriters in Nashville at a table in a bar. Once I had moved to Nashville and began co-writing with some folks, I realized you can get a song idea at almost anytime if you are paying attention, just listening to a good phrase someone might say. In this instance, someone said 'It's Better if You Never Know' and someone else said that sounds like a good song. I started trying to write it the next day. I'm getting better at writing songs that don't necessarily have a link to me personally, however, I do believe when a song has that personal link it can have an extra emotional feeling that is conveyed to the listener.

I'm Musing You

'I'm Musing You' came about while I was driving down the road on a road trip. I hadn't written a song in a while and was thinking about how I have often used the same muse or muses to create a song, by thinking back on old times. I thought to myself 'I need a new muse, I need to stop delving back into these old times.' And there was the song.

Many Moons Ago

With 'Many Moons Ago,' a musician friend of mine used that phrase, many moons ago, and I thought wow I like that, people don't use that phrase much anymore, so I decided to write a song with the phrase. I had been listening to a Delmore Brothers tape over and over in my truck and, though I don't even remember the specific song, I know that something from that tape inspired the melody to 'Many Moons Ago.' Often times I will not know what I am copying or if I am copying something, but there is just something present in my consciousness that brings about a certain style or melody. This song doesn't have many lyrics, but I like the simple message it conveys that time does heal and growth occurs and you move on even when you feel you are dealing with something you can never get over.

The Stars Are Aligned

'The Stars Are Aligned' just came from the romantic feeling of a new relationship with a soulmate you have been waiting for. It flowed out just naturally from that first phrase, the 'Stars Are Aligned.' I love the way this one lends itself to a string section in the background, almost Disney princess-like, and I am so pleased with the lovely string parts on this recording. The string parts were written by my girlfriend and first-class fiddler, Rebecca Patek.

Photo credit: Aisha Golliher

#melissa carper #daddy's country gold #track by track breakdown

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kazbrkker · 4 years

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Chapter 10: The Price of War

Chapter summary: The events of Highway of Death told from Alex's perspective. Alexis' real name is finally uncovered, and one of her captors' identity is also revealed. (3327 words)

Warnings: Hadir's betrayal, character death, flashbacks of almost death.

"Come on, stay with me!" an unfamiliar voice bounced around her head.

Was Alexis dreaming again?

Alexis was definitely dreaming again. Which was how she knew this was reality. Because she knew when she balanced over the thin line between life and death, she would dream. Sometimes she dreamt of hungover mornings and coffee runs with Maddox and the crew, inhumane circuit laps with Mactavish and Price, or the countless times Alex talked her ears off with the desire for another tattoo.

The pain that ached all over her body, accompanied by the abnormal brush of coldness told her it was time. Time to meet your maker.

She heard this joke once, and this sure as hell was the punchline.

"...keep squeezing... hand–"

Hadir? Was... was she really dreaming? This couldn't be real.

Worse were the dreams conjured by fear. The ones that took her right back to St.Petersburg to stare down the shimmering flames. The feeling of raw flesh after endless interrogations. And the reminder of wearing her blood like a second skin. It was she never left that tiny jail cell.

Alexis remembered the crackling of the flames. It was all that filled her ears. Her captors were missing. She was in the middle of nowhere.

The fire blazed a slow path straight for her like she was the final goal to reach. It tore down wooden crates, engulfed the flimsy curtains and went straight for her. Like the fire had a mind of its own and knew it wanted her.

This was it, the end of her legacy. Her stories were etched in flesh, and her book would be the grey stone in Arlington.

The salty tears streaming down her bruised eyes should have hurt, but didn't. The roaring fire snuffed out most of the oxygen and thinned the air. Her head was growing heavier by the seconds, eventually resting it against the grimy walls.

There are worse ways to go, she tried convincing herself.

When she started to drift away, she summoned enough energy to raise a fingertip over the wall—finding her name carved into the stones. Her real name.

Maybe, hopefully, somebody would remember her.

Her dreams manifested into her sleep over time. When she dreamt of St.Petersburg, she'd wake up with her mouth gaped wipe, like she paused mid-scream. Her fingers would tremble and she'd force herself to give in to her shaking legs and remain seated. She'd whisper to herself that it was only a dream. It'll stop.

Until it didn't.

Today, with her back on the ground, eyes rolled back, Alexis dreamt again.

The worst wasn't knowing she was going to die—that was the price of war. She had long made peace with the Grim Reaper. It was knowing she finally had something to live for.

Maybe this time her dream wouldn't stop.

━━━━━━

FIVE HOURS EARLIER:

29 October 2019, 0730 "Alex" CIA with Urzik militia Darus, Urzikstan

Alex hopped off the truck, inwardly expressing gratitude that after hours, they'd finally arrived at their destination. Though the aura of a village filled with rubble and dust in its silence put him off.

Ribbons of the early sun had already splashed across cerulean blue canvas. Behind him, Alexis blew a low whistle. He turned around to discover her standing in the middle of the elevated road—looking heavenward.

"What a view. Exactly the one I pictured–" Alexis marvelled.

Alia stopped her, "You picture your death?"

"Of course. You'd be surprised how disappointing death can be."

Alex kept a blank face despite feeling his heart drop. Apparently his cold shoulder treatment was starting to draw attention—evident when Farah arched an inquisitive brow beside him.

He returned with a shrug, still nursing his anger. He was pissed to be kept in the dark about Alexis' mysterious call. Her standoffish behaviour was from an all too familiar playbook that Alexis always operated out of—the masterful art of dodging.

It was exactly what happened after St.Petersburg. Which was why Alex had to intervene before it took a turn for the worse.

"You're out of it. Anything I should know?"

"What should you know?"

Answer a question with a question.

"If you want to lie to my face, go ahead. But I won't stand here and pretend to believe you."

"For CIA, you have no idea how to deal with women." Farah nudged him up the flight of stairs.

Only then did Alex realised he was spacing out. Although that couldn't stop him from thinking about how the early sun practically bathed Alexis with a halo. "Or... I know exactly what I'm doing," he smirked, climbing two steps at a time.

Farah smacked his arm, "Ah, don't play the game, play the man. I believe that's what you Americans call it." In combat, Farah was all expressionless and cold, but when the commander was out of the field, sometimes she allowed a certain amount of lightness to grace her smiles. They bumped fists with a knowing grin.

"Zip it," behind them, Alexis knocked Alia's head loudly, "Don't even think about dying."

"They'll have their hands full with her up there," Farah mused.

He heard Alia's terrible attempt at whispering—asking Alexis what he pictured for his deathbed. The cunning young lady certainly deserved an ovation. In more ways than one, Alia really was the splitting image of a young Alexis. Another loud whisper came from the young girl. "What do you mean he's not angry! You must be blind."

Alex recalled that one particular vacation in Bali that birthed this conversation. Just the two of them laying on the beach, free of woes and war. Three years felt like a lifetime ago.

"Throw me out of a helicopter, shoot me out a canon. I want my corpse to rain from the sky."

"Go out with a bang?" Alexis sipped on her frozen margarita, laying on a beach chair unbothered by the world. "That is very you."

Surely that sounded like an exaggeration. But if Alex had it his way, he would. Unfortunately, there was already a plot in Arlington reserved for him.

"Something like a sky burial," Alexis answered for him. Flashes of her chocolate hair loose on her shoulders and sunburnt cheeks left his mind. Alex felt her eyes burn into his back. "He's... weird."

"I heard that."

Several wobbly ledges later, they reached the vantage point that overlooked the highway, Hadir passed them two custom made sniper rifles. A larger than usual smile appeared on Alexis as she geeked at the custom rifle. It was almost comical—her jumping around while donning a ridiculous head gauze. While Hadir's impressive rifle put her in a good mood, Alex suspected it was Hadir, Farah and Alia responsible for this lighter shell of Alex.

He missed this version of her—not haunted by demons of her past. Trust it to be Urzikstan to draw out this side of her again. He'd do anything to make this Alexis stay.

"I'd watch that recoil, Lexi."

Alexis flashed a smile, pushing past him, "And I'd worry about your shots, babe. Trajectory is a bastard in this wind."

He set into a prone position right beside her, getting into tune with the new rifle. Then, Alexis cleared her throat loudly, winking into her sniper scope.

"Say, this cold shoulder treatment is getting a little old..."

A second later, she fired a clean shot into a watermelon 600 yards away. Hadir rejoiced in his native language, "Your fruit killing skills are remarkable, Alexis!"

"Don't I know it," Alexis winked. He sensed her scheming face before she even wore it, "Alex, since we're out here swatting flies, what do you say to a friendly competition?"

That interested him, "What's the catch?"

"No catch," she shrugged. "One minute. Whoever shoots the most is the winner. And the loser..." There was a glint in her eyes, "Has to do anything the winner says."

His eyes landed briefly on her grinning lips before he agreed.

The playing field was set: plastic bottles, some rotten fruits and crates. His index finger rested snuggly on the trigger, head lowered to dial into the scope.

"Okay! One minute starts..." Farah paused, "Now!"

Pulling the trigger was an unconscious effort by now, a steady exhale later and in between heartbeats, he fired. Right off the bat, he shot through one plastic bottle nested across the highway. Beside him, Alexis missed her shot, mumbling about how the recoil was too strong.

"Is the prize not enticing enough?" he mused, aiming for his second trophy.

"Only if you lose," her airy laughter made it hard to suppress another smile.

Within fifty seconds, it was a tie. It came down to the final plastic bottle. It was difficult to line a shot with the sun glaring right at him. Still, Alex kept his shoulders levelled and spoke with confidence, "Any last words?"

"You first."

Exhale.

Shoot.

Heart hammering in his chest, they watched collectively as the single bullet tore through the plastic bottle, leaving a gaping hole in its wake.

"And that's how it's done!"

Alex tilted back to reach Hadir's high-fives. "My brother, your biggest fan," Farah smiled.

For someone who lost a bet, she didn't play the role. With a charming smile, Alexis' fingers snaked the curve of his wrist. Alex pretended she didn't just jolt him awake with a simple touch, "So. What am I supposed to do?"

"I know just the thing," a brash grin slipped back onto Alex's face, thinking how he had more luck than skills. Or maybe it was an added motivator.

━━━━━━

Everything went wrong quick and fast.

When Price radioed with news, they expected the Wolf to scramble their way. What they didn't expect was Barkov's company.

Alexis split from the group, taking main overwatch at the next building beside them. Her injuries worried him. But their promise to inexplicably trust each other in the field triumphed his concerns. An enemy sniper across the highway was picking Farah's army off one by one. And Alexis... "Dropped his ass!"

That's my girl.

Winking into his own scope, he burst the tires off a suicide truck with a single shot. The one upside about this shit show was that Barkov's army helped clean up the Wolf's men for them.

He dodged back into cover just in time when a bullet whizzed past him. Shit, they found him. Farah panicked, "We need help! Where is Captain Price?"

"Won't make it in time! We need a Hail Mary for these fuckers!" Alexis shouted over the crossfire.

He spared a quick glance to check on her. In the blinding sunlight, her hair turned into a colour that reminded him of bitter tea. Several stray pieces of hair stuck against her sweaty neck. Alexis was still holding her weight, but it was obvious she was growing weary.

But no amount of energy could change the fact that they'd be boxed in by the enemies soon. And Farah and Hadir had too much honour in their cause to retreat. Alexis was right, they needed an ultimatum.

"I've got more firepower in the truck! Alexis, cover us! And Alex, follow me!" Hadir nudged him. Alex left the rifle at his nest and dropped down the ladder to follow Hadir.

"Hadir! Please tell me you have a big enough stone!" Alexis yelled past the gunfires.

"The biggest, sister! They won't know what hit them!" He followed Hadir in and out of different houses.

Without warning, a spray of bullets burst through the battlefield. Alex didn't think much of it until Farah yelled Alexis' name in a state of manic. His first instinct was to charge back in their direction, but Hadir kept a death grip on his forearm, reminding him they only had a small window to make this work.

This better fucking work, Alex thought. Dying on the Highway of Death would be too prophetic.

"My truck is full of explosives, very powerful explosives, it's time to use them! Open the tailgate, quickly! I'll cover us! Open it, Alex!"

The truck held canisters of– "Russian gas?" The entire time Alexis and he spent looking for leads of the stolen gas...

Hadir stole them?

"Yes! And now we send it back to them!"

It was too late. The tremors of an explosion, the screamings. They were lucky not to be swept in the explosion radius, but from the green gas that now terrorised the air, that was the least of Alex's worries. Soldiers irregardless friend or foe, doubled over to cough their lungs out. Blood sprayed ruthlessly in the air before they collapsed.

"You said we needed a big enough stone. This is it, Alexis!"

"No... No no no! Not like this–" Her sentence cut off.

Alex was on autopilot at this point, blindly following Hadir back into a house. Only Farah yelled through the comms, but it was radio silence from Alexis.

Please be okay. Although the raw coughs outside the bunker made him feel foolish for harbouring hope.

The gas worked quick, already blurring his vision. His head spun wildly and his throat scratched. The deadweight of his combat vest alone was enough to make him flop like a raggedy doll. His weakness fed his panic. Alex held onto the bunker's walls with every bit of strength still inside him.

Alexis, he recited over and over again. Alexandra Ward.

Bring her home.

Find her. Find her. Find her.

If Alex hoped the incantation could hold power for him, he was greatly mistaken. One step forward, he crumpled down the floor like an abandoned puppet.

"Hadir–" Alex's vision floated in and out, unable to see Hadir. He briefly registered a new weight over his face. A gas mask. Alex slurred through his words, "Alexis... Find..."

He fought against losing consciousness, not knowing when Farah ended up in the bunker, but only knew she was alone. "Alexis!" he weakly tried their comms again.

Fuck, stay the fuck awake. Not like this.

He channelled all the remaining energy he had, however little. He didn't stop, not even when his breathing slowed, his vision now appearing in phases, or his urge to vomit his guts out. Frantic, he reached for anything he could get his hands on–

His fingers flexed, not even able to feel the texture of leather of his gloves. All he could do was that, and blink to keep himself awake. Hadir was mumbling incoherently about something, not wearing even an ounce of regret from the mere silvers of sight Alex peeked through.

Hadir ran out the door like a coward. Some part of him prayed for the shred of Hadir's humanity to find Alexis.

Alex swore he saw the sun outside melt away, turning his world blue in twilight. His last thoughts were about a certain Bali sky.

━━━━━━

The buzzing of a helicopter shocked him awake. Alex shot up immediately, realising they were still in the bunker. It was deadly quiet, too quiet. Then he realised it was just his blocked hearing.

His world still swirled on its own axis when Price and Kyle came running in. Staring blankly when Price shouted something he didn't understand.

Alexis. The fog in his brain cleared. He kneeled his way over to the unconscious women who laid beside him. Using all his might, he propped her into his lap, fear-stricken when blood stained his hands.

Where did that come from? He hurriedly wiped the molten blood off her head, finding the opened stitches to be the root source.

"Holy shit, captain," Kyle deadpanned, a face full of dread, "This is bad."

Price wasted no time before scooping Alexis up and away to the helicopter.

Alex was thankful for Price who supported the weight he most definitely couldn't: the weight of Alexis dying in his arms.

━━━━━━

It must have been only a few hours of solitude Alex had since they returned to base. Laswell sent all of them to medical immediately—and Alex answered with a clean bill of health. He might be out of the woods, but his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

An unmistakable voice roared outside his ward, followed by someone yelling. He cursed loudly when his eyes snapped open. Did everything have to be white and smell of ammonia?

When his door swung open, he immediately shoved his trembling hands into the sanctuary of the hospital gown's pockets. In his doorway, his glazy vision told him someone was propped up by two other figures. Once his vision finally registered who she was, he bolted over. Much like him, she had an IV drip in toll.

Alex caught her by the waist when she faltered. "Farah," he gave her a once-over, "They cleared you?"

The commander nodded, stepping into his room with feeble steps. Although Alex suspected Farah's ashen face wasn't the result of the toxic gas. He passed her the tray of hot porridge that sat idly on his table.

His hands dropped when Farah eyed it in concern. He cleared his throat, jerking his head to the tray. As expected, Farah rejected it too.

"I'm sorry, Farah," he started, tracing the IV needle embedded in his forearm. For strange reasons, it calmed him. "Hadir..."

"Is my brother," Farah said sharply, "I should have known..." Alex rushed to her defence, but Farah raised her voice in both sadness and anger, "No Alex, I should have known. It is my job as his sister. Hadir was losing faith in the militia, but I pretended not to see it."

Alex averted his sight away. Unsure what to say to comfort Farah. He couldn't begin to understand, nor did he want to pretend he could. Farah rubbed an exasperated hand over her face, "Hadir killed most of my men. And..." Her voice wavered, eyes shining brighter under the blinding fluorescent lights.

"Alia," he said on her behalf.

How did everything go sideways so fast? Five hours ago, all of them were squeezed in the back of a truck, wind in their hair and laughter in their words. Alexis had promised Alia to a hamburger after this shitty war passed, because the war-torn girl had never seen one, let alone tasted one.

"Hadir will pay." Again, Alex remained silent. What could be worse than hunting your own brother? "And if Alexis... doesn't make it..."

Alex sighed, still rubbing circles around his IV. Farah's words all but gutted him.

Alexis tried going back for Alia, which prolonged her exposure. Her open wounds sent her condition from dangerous to life-threatening. The ringing in Alex's ears was so loud but he managed to hear something about chlorine poisoning.

Alex tiredly pressed his palm against his eyes, trying to force the memory of Alexis' rigid body out of his mind but only received another vision of her intubated with an oxygen ventilator. "The Cipro and antitoxin are a wild shot. They're more worried about the fluid in her lungs."

To Alex's surprise, Farah picked up the bowl of porridge to eat. The smallest of smiles tugged across her lips and somehow it made Alex feel much better. "I have no doubt she'll wake in a few hours. She's a tough one."

Alex remained silent.

"Maybe we should try dangling that forsaken ration pack she loves," Farah tried to joke, but her tone felt otherwise. A few seconds later, she continued, "Alexis survived worse. She will pull through."

Was Farah talking about St.Petersburg? It almost slipped his mind that she was the reason for Alexis' safe return. Well, her and... Hadir.

Hadir's betrayal would break Alexis... If Alia's death wouldn't.

Maybe guilt encouraged Farah to supplement the gaps in Alex's understanding, but she explained everything. From the burning house, Alexis' threatening to leave, to how she delivered Alexis safely to St.Petersburg. Whatever Alex knew was from the mission report, the gruesome details blacked out for clearance. The way she described Alexis' injuries induced nausea in him again.

But something else Farah said intrigued him. "A few weeks after Alexis left, the mercenaries returned to Urzikstan. Demanding blood for the American, they said."

Alex leaned out of his chair upon hearing this. It was a piece of the puzzle the rescue task force was couldn't collect. Even the joint task force of JSOC, CIA and SAS ran up cold leads as to who was behind the kidnapping.

"One of the men mentioned a name, Gaia."

‧͙⁺˚*·༓

a/n: alexandra... ward!!!!!!! her name is strictly need-to-know so we gotta thank alex for his pov lmao. & i'm pretty sure her injury counter is through the roof rn. but cheers to me for beating up my characters lol.

alia though... i'm absolutely gutted over this.

taglist: @shigarakiluvbot @wanderlustgiant @captain-pikas-world (wanna be tagged? lmk!)

#call of duty x oc #call of duty x reader #alex modern warfare #alex cod #echo 3-1 #john price #captain price #kyle garrick #farah karim #hadir karim #kate laswell #oc: alexis #ysrwrites: kl #killer instinct #modern warfare #fanfiction

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rora-s · 3 years

Text

The Derivative Chapter 13: I Know

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 12

“Well I didn’t exactly have a lot of options” I argued, hopping out of the car.

“Maybe not but that sounds like an odd one for a snack” Alan stated getting out and grabbing the grocery bag in the back seat.

“Ugh you sound like my mother” I grumbled as we headed toward the house.

“Greetings friends” we turned at the call to see Larry walking up the drive.

“Oh Larry what brings you here?” Alan greeted.

“Well I was looking for Charles with the intention of spurring him into action on some of the math he promised me” the man explained.

“Hey Larry you haven’t heard anything about my acceptance at CalSci yet have you?” I asked as we headed to the front door.

“I’m afraid not but rest assured me and your uncle are keeping our ears to the metaphorical ground for any word from the admission board” Larry replied.

I let off groan “I hate waiting”

“Don’t worry, I'm sure they’ll accept you. You’re a great student” Alan assured me.

“Well who knows I mean the school does get similar applications from young gifted applicants each year so” the physicist ended his statement with a shrug.

I let out a breath still very anxious about the whole thing “thank you for that Larry” Gramps muttered with an annoyed edge as he opened the front door. “Hey Charlie”

We headed into the house to see Charlie sitting at the table looking over some papers with a woman. “Hey, this is officer Morris of the California Highway patrol” the professor introduced the woman who smiled. Then he gestured to us “this is my father, my niece, and Dr. Fleinhardt”

“Oh, please don’t tell me you got another speeding ticket?” Alan joked.

“Actually your son’s helping me with an accident investigation” Officer Morris explained rising from her seat to shake my grandfather’s hand and then Larry’s, then mine “we’re trying to figure out what caused it.”

“I didn’t know you were consulting for the CHP. Are you?” Alan inquired.

“Don’s case” Charlie clarified.

“Oh so this is why he ditched me here instead of taking me to the movies on his day off like he promised” I spoke with a slight edging looking at the documents laid out on the table.

“Yeah? What sort of accident involved the FBI?” Larry questioned.

“Prison bus crash” Morris informed.

“The one I saw on the news.” Gramps inferred. “The bus with the escaped convicts? Don is working on that, huh?” Alan muttered the last bit as he sat down the grocery bag.

“Yeah. Why?” Charlie questioned most likely sensing the same change in Alan’s demeanor as I had.

“Oh nothing” Alan brushed the matter off as Larry took a seat at the table “it’s just that your brother was working on fugitive recovery once for a while, uh, anyway” he shook his head.

“Appears to be basic Newtonian mechanics” Larry observed “the stuff of first-year engineering students. Now why are these elementary equations so captured your imagination?”

“Well, the confluence of so many unrelated factors coming together at a given point in time” Charlie explained “it’s actually quite a fascinating approach to Bayesian inference as applied to the analysis of time series data.”

“Yeah well as far as I know anytime an accident happens it’s because somebody made a mistake” Alan declared. “Am I right?”

“Actually most car crashes happen because of one overestimating their own ability, to make a turn or get through a light. Willing choices that’s why the common public word accident is a misnomer and reports call them crashes.” I informed absently then paused as all the adults’ eyes shifted to me “I read it once” I shrugged.

“This coming from the girl who doesn’t even have a license” Alan pointed out and I shot him a glare.

“Either way that’s what we’re trying to figure out.” Morris spoke up “whether there was a mistake and what it was”

“The answer’s not that simple” Charlie voiced as Alan pulled out his sandwich and went to open a beer I reached around him to grab my sandwich from the bag. “I mean, coincidences are a mathematical reality. Statistically unlikely events can and often do occur. Just look at the genesis of our planet.”

“Well now, I agree that the factors that brought about life on earth were statistically unlikely” Larry mused “but given the vastness of the cosmos, the limitless possibilities for matter and energy. I’m with Einstein on this. There are no accidents.”

____________

“I can understand the fascination of kinematic equations when working alongside an attractive female police officer” Larry voiced as we watched Charlie set up his little reenactment. “But, all the lawn equipment?”

“What you said about the confluence of the cosmos triggered a thought” Charlie explained “Abby you’re sitting in the road” he muttered shoeing me away so he could set down a skateboard. I scooted over to the side of the path.

“Ah, note to self: Never talk quantum theory again.” Larry voiced.

“The initial velocity of the bus barely exceeds that of the flatbed.” Charlie elaborated “the gap between them closing slowly, approximately two feet per second.” he moved the wheel barrel up.

“And then along comes the skateboard?” Larry questioned.

“That’s right, the pick up truck” Uncle C confirmed “the pick up truck pulls along the right side of the bus” he demonstrated with the skateboard’s movement. “Its velocity is 13 miles per hour greater than that of the bus. Now at this point the gap between the bus and the flatbed truck is at least..” he paused reaching for the paper in the wheelbarrow.

“84 feet” I supplied having seen the paper.

“Okay, that’s ample enough room for the pickup to safely maneuver in front of the bus” Larry declared.

“However” Charlie objected, continuing to manipulate the lawn equipment “the gap suddenly closed. The pickup veers in front of the bus forcing the bus to maneuver and hit the guardrail which causes it to torque and flip onto its side” I tilted my head as Charlie turned the wheelbarrow over.

“How did that gap close so quickly between the bus and the flatbed?” Larry inquired.

“Acceleration or deceleration” I voiced.

“Precisely.” Charlie nodded “two possibilities. One, the bus greatly increased its velocity.”

“No no no” Larry dissuaded that idea “given the mass of the bus, that’s extremely unlikely.”

I craned my neck as I saw Don’s car pulling up to the house. “Or two, the flatbed truck reduced its speed at the critical moment, causing the pickup to veer in front of the bus.”

“That’s it” Larry determined with the snap of his fingers “the flatbed slowed down”

“That’s right,” Charlie agreed.

“And that doesn’t mean anything good” I muttered letting out a breath.

“It would also mean” Larry mused.

“A Markov chain” Charlie finished the thought.

“Exactly” Larry muttered.

“Gentlemen and lady” Don greeted us as he walked up “what’s all this?” he looked over the reenactment.

“Just trying to make sense of something that doesn’t make sense” Charlie explained.

“Thought that’s what you do best,” Don sighed. “What, uh, what’s the problem?”

“Well, apparently, that seed spreader” Larry voiced.

Don gave a confused look and Charlie quickly jumped in “t-the flatbed truck”

“What- what about it?” Don inquired.

“The crash wasn’t an accident” Charlie informed. “Don, it was staged.”

“You’re sure?” Don pressed.

“Mathematically certain” I declared Don shot me a look “it’s lawn equipment and simple math please don’t lecture me on not helping”

Don sighed “fine later” he grumbled then turned to Charlie “think you can work up a model to show at the office?”

“That’s an easy matter of imputing these findings into a computer simulation” Charlie explained.

“Maybe the cute CHP lady officer can help you” I teased my uncle.

“Cute CHP lady officer?” Don questioned turning to his brother who shot me an annoyed look.

“It’s not like that,” Charlie objected.

“Sure Charles, sure” Larry murmured and we all shared a laugh at the mathematician's expense.

________________

3rd POV.

“All these different events and factors from the initial velocity of the bus to its final torque” Charlie explained to Don and Agent Cooper “all of these create what’s called a Markov Chain.”

“What kind of Chain?” Cooper questioned.

“Markov. A sequence of random values where the probabilities at any given time depend on the values at a previous time.” Charlie attempted to elaborate “the controlling factor in a Markov chain is called the transitional probability. Now in this case the bus reaches a certain point in the road just as the truck blocks the lane, just as the pickup cuts off the bus.” the professor gestured to his diagram.

“Which tells you it wasn't an accident?” Don asked with minor confusion.

“Bayesian statistics and the Chapman-Kolmogorov equation tell me that.” Charlie clarified.

“Are you sure you’re his brother?” Billy joked to Don.

“Yeah, you think he’s freaky smart you should meet my kid” Don replied off handedly focusing on Charlie and missing the double take Cooper gave him.

“If the flatbed truck had maintained its initial velocity, well then the pickup should have enough space to roam freely past the bus safely.” Charlie continued “but it didn’t.” he pressed a button going to the next image “the truck slowed down just as the right moment just as the pickup timed its move, forcing the bus to veer violently and overturn.”

“So the pickup driver and the flatbed guy are in on it,” Don deduced.

“Only the gardener’s missing” Cooper muttered.

“Let’s go find that truck driver” Don declared getting up and Billy following after him. “Good job Charlie thanks”

Don and Cooper exited the meeting room and headed through the bullpen. “So uh that comment about you having a kid that serious?” Billy asked as they paused by Don’s desk so he could grab his jacket.

Don let off a breath, his brain somehow just realizing that his former partner would have no way of knowing about Abby appearing in Don’s life a little less than a year ago. “Uh yeah um kind of a long story but uh you remember that girl from college I mentioned Janice Calvin?” Don asked as they headed toward the elevator.

“Yeah the one left you a note and went back home?” Cooper recalled.

“Yeah, well, turns out she was pregnant. And what will be a year ago soon I got this knock on my door from a social worker telling me she died and left a kid behind. And my name’s on the birth certificate” Don explained.

Cooper let off a breath “that’s crazy man.”

“You’re telling me” Don muttered as they entered the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. “Still it’s been good having her in my life you know? Her name’s Abby and she just tested out of highschool as a sophomore applied to college for next semester”

“Really?” Cooper nodded then a slight smirk came to his features “so out of all these geniuses in your family how the heck did you end up like this?”

“Ah” Don scoffed, giving his friend a shove as the doors opened and they headed out chuckling.

__________

Abby POV.

“Why am I here?” I muttered in annoyance.

“Because I find this interesting,” Alan whispered back.

“That explains why you’re here, not why I am” I grumbled turning the page of my book.

“Well, if you’d quiet down you might just learn something” Alan suggested. I sighed and looked up at Uncle Charlie who was standing in front of a black baord that read “Math for Non-Mathematicians''

“Most people believe that they can trust their instincts” Uncle C explained “however, math suggests that our instincts aren’t always correct” he bent down and picked up a couple big white boards and big red X’s off the ground. “We’re gonna play a little game.” he declared, setting out the white cards on stands “I want you all to pretend that we’re on a game show, and I’m your cheesy game show host. And behind one of these cards is a brand new automobile.” he added a joking deepness to his voice at that last line that elicited some laughs from the audience of the class “and behind the other two are goats. Yeah, goats.” I rolled my eyes and turned back to my story.”I’m going to need a volunteer” I glanced up making sure my uncle wasn’t thinking of choosing me as a couple hands went up “come on, more of you than that. Come on.” he encouraged, receiving a couple laughs in response “Julie” he finally selected. “Why don’t you pick one of these cards? Remembering of course the object is to win the car, not the goat.”

“I’ll take the one in the middle” Julie chose.

“She takes the middle card” Charlie declared, sticking an X to the card. “And what are the chances that that card is the winning card?”

“One in three” Julie answered.

“Three choices, one car. Right?” Charlie clarified “one in three, it’s simple enough, right? Now, here’s where the game’s gonna take a turn. I’m going to reveal to you one of the cards that you did not choose” he reached to the card on the right and flipped it around to reveal a goat “So, we have two cards yet to be revealed. Now, knowing what you know, do you want to switch your choice? Or more importantly for the purposes of this class, does it matter? Will switching your choice improve your chances of winning?”

“Yes switch it” I muttered under my breath going back to my book. Alan gave me a side look.

“Well no. because now, two cards it’s 50/50, right?” Julie replied to the teacher.

“How many people agree with her?” Charlie asked.

“Don’t raise your hand” I mumbled sarcastically, turning the page of my book. Inevitable people did though most of the class in fact Alan looked around surprised.

“That’s what your instinct tells you, but you’d be wrong.” Charlie explained. “Switching your cards at this point actually doubles your chances of winning the car.”

“How?” Julie questioned.

“Well, since we started out with two goats,” Charlie explained “it’s more likely that your first choice was a goat. What are the odds of choosing the goats?”

“Two out of three” Julie answered.

“Right. So it’s more likely that this is a goat, less likely that it’s a car” the professor gestured to the center card “and it’s more likely that this card is a car” he pointed to the card on the left. “See switching your choice gives you a two-out-of-three chance of winning the car, rather than the one-out-of-three chance that we all began with.” he revealed the left card as the car to make his point. “Vroom vroom” he joked making the class chuckle. “You won a car, Julie. Congratulations.'' Then Uncle Charlie paused his eyes drifting to the back of the room before he checked his watch. “I think. Yeah, yeah, we’re out of time.” I looked back to see Don standing in the back of the room with another man who I could assume was another agent. “So uh, go home make some of these for yourselves. Put together some reasonable “n” samples, and uh.. Yeah see what happens. I’ll see you all next week. thanks.”

The students began to disperse and Alan followed my line of sight to Don and the other agent. He got up and I followed him back to the two men. “Hey Dad, what are you two doing here?”

“Oh I like coming whenever Charlie gives one of these math-for-dummies lectures. It’s the only time I actually understand what he’s talking about” Gramps explained “plus this one needed to get out of the house I couldn’t stand anymore anxious pacing about this acceptance letter”

“Hey I wasn’t pacing” I objected adjusting my backpack on my shoulders “much”

“This is Billy Cooper” Don introduced the man next to him. “He’s an agent I work with.”

“Hi” Alan greeted him with a hand shake “we’ve met before, haven’t we?”

“oh, yeah.” Don murmured “I couldn’t remember”

“You worked a case with Don out here once?” Alan guessed.

“Back in the day, yes, sir” Agent Cooper confirmed and glanced between me and my Grandfather.

“Donnie, can I talk to you for a minute?” Alan requested.

“Yeah, sure.” Don agreed and looked to Billy “just give me a second” him and Alan shuffled out of the room.

Agent Cooper turned to me “you must be Abby then” he inquired and I nodded “uh so your uh old man mentioned that you were some kind of genius like your Uncle” he gestured vaguely to where Charlie was packing up his stuff from class.

“Um yeah I have a decent IQ and an Advanced Eidetic Memory” I explained shifting on my feet.

“What’s that mean?” the agent asked.

“I have near perfect visual memory recall especially when I read” I explained gesturing to the book in my hand.

“Cool” Cooper nodded and glanced out the doorway to where Don and Alan were still talking.

“So you work with my dad?” I inquired blinking as the last word came out of my mouth easier than I thought.

“Yup” Cooper smiled “me and Don actually used to be partners back in the day when he worked fugitive recovery. Made a great team”

I smiled slightly “that’s cool”

“Hey agent Cooper” Charlie cut in as he came over to greet the agent.

________ 3rd POV.

Don walked with his father out of the room and into the courtyard outside. “Um- wh-what are you doing? What’s going on?” Alan asked, turning to Don once they were out of earshot.

“What are you talking about?” Don asked, confused.

“Well, I- I haven’t seen you for days. Not since you dropped Abby off.” Alan pointed out.

“I’m working,” Don explained.

“Yeah, I know, Charlie told me.” Alan informed “Are you going back to manhunting now?”

“Oh, I see. Dad, come on” Don sighed in annoyance. “Don’t. This is one case.”

“I seem to recall your saying that about only one case once before,” Alan pointed out, “but, if you remember, they were not good days for you, or for me. I mean, we didn’t hear from you for weeks. We didn’t even know where the hell you were.”

“Dad-” Don tried to interject but failed.

“You do realize that uh, chasing after someone you could be running away from yourself at the same time” Alan stated. “And now you’re a father Donnie, you have a daughter in there that relies on you and you have a responsibility to her. Have you even talked to her the last couple days?”

“Yes dad, of course I have'' Don finally interjected agitated. Then he sighed “contrary to what you might think I don’t plan to abandon her”

Before Alan could respond to that statement or before Don could process the emotions it set forth Charlie was joining them with Abby and Billy right behind him. Don looked at Abby for a moment as Charlie greeted them and asked Alan about his lecture.

Sometimes it was easy for him to forget she was a kid with how her brain worked and how stubbornly independent she could be. However, with her duct taped and sharpied shoes and ratty backpack she wouldn’t let him buy her replacements for, fading freckles and various superhero and tv show related t-shirts. She really was every bit the teenager her age dictated. A teenager who Don knew needed her father.

____________

“Hey” Don called walking up as Coop was loading up his car “So you’re out of here?”

“Heading to Phoenix.” Billy sighed “meth tweaker I been chasing.”

“No chance we could get you to stick around?” Don asked helping him with the bags “maybe put in for a position around here?”

“What, and settle down?” Billy chuckled.

“Hey, it’s not bad Coop, I gotta tell you.” Don advised leaning on the car.

“You don’t miss it?” Cooper inquired.

“No. Not really, no” Don shook his head.

“The rush you get when you’re hauling his ass in,” Coop tempted “your fugitive’s a couple hours ahead of you and you’re closing ground.”

“Alright, maybe a little,” Don conceded. “Hey, but not being in touch with my family, not being able to talk to anybody, I don’t miss that.” he took a deep breath “I don’t know, I think LA’s good for me.”

“Well” Coop sighed closing his trunk “plus you’re a dad now”

Don chuckled “yeah there’s that too”

“Listen that kid’s lucky to have you.” Billy told him “and if she’s anything like her old man she got a good future ahead of her”

“Thanks man” Don sighed as the two shook hands walking back toward the drivers side of the car “keep your head down, huh?”

“I’ll do that,” Billy nodded, getting in his car to leave.

___________

“You do realize watching out the window isn’t going to make him get here any sooner right?” Alan voiced.

Abby sighed and slid down to sit on the couch. “What’s taking so long,” she whined.

“Relax kid,” Don advised, taking a sip of his beer. “He’ll get here soon”

“Easy for you to say” Abby grumbled. Just then the door of the house opened and the trio sitting in the living room turned as Charlie walked in.

Abby bounced to her feet. “Do you have it? Do you have it?” she asked eagerly.

“Hello to you too” Charlie mumbled earning him a glare from his niece. “It’s right here” he held up the letter from the schools admissions office.

Abby took the letter and looked it over like it was some rare artifact. She let off a slow breath. “You want me to open it?” Don asked after a moment.

“No,” Abby objected then took a deep breath and tore the envelope open pulling out the paper inside.

The three men watched as her eyes scanned over it abnormally fast for the average person. Then another second before a large smile spread over her face.

“I got in” she whispered almost inaudibly then began to repeat it louder jumping up and down in joy “I got in! I got in! I got in!” she stopped and whisked over to where Don was sitting “Dad! Dad! Dad! Look! I even got a scholarship!”

“I can see that” Don murmured looking at the paper that was thrust into his hand “nice job kid”

“We knew you could do it,'' Alan encouraged with a smile.

“I’m going to go call Amita and tell her” Abby declared “this is awesome!” with that she ran from the room.

“Donnie, uh,” Alan spoke up after a moment “you are aware she just called you dad right? Without uh any snarky backdrop or anything”

Don smiled lightly eyes still on the acceptance letter “yeah I know”

Chapter 14 ->

#Don Eppes #alan eppes #Charlie Eppes #numb3rs #numb3rs season 1 #amita ramanujan #larry fleinhardt #david sinclair #terry lake #billy cooper #Episode Related #episode per chapter #abby calvin #fanfiction #Also posted on AO3 #also posted on quotev

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allicekitty13 · 4 years

Text

Sweet Home Texas- Chapter 1

Read Entire Story on Ao3

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When Alice returned to her hometown for her brother's wedding the last thing she expected was that Jasper would have forgotten her completely.

When Jasper was driving to his cousins wedding he didn't expect to run into a mysterious girl who knows him, but he doesn't remember her.

With five days before Alice leaves will Jasper be able to figure out who she is and remedy the biggest regret of his life?

Written for Jalice Week Day 7- YeeHaw

Wednesday

"I'm so fucking late." Alice thought to herself as she hunched over the hood of the car one-handed. Her height made this task difficult enough on its own, nevermind having to do it with one hand as the other held her phone as a torch. When the car pulled over behind her, she was tentatively hopeful, either someone would be able to help her get the piece of garbage car up and running, or she was about to be murdered.

"What seems to be the problem, little lady?" A voice called out in a thick Texan accent, one that she only kind of missed. Only on those days when she thought of him, she'd have to deal with that soon enough. For now, she really did need to get off the highway. She was flooded with relief as she turned around, though soon enough was apparently right now; a friendly face was more than she could hope for. "Jasper, thank GOD. I have no idea what's wrong with this thing. Think I could hitch a ride to town?"

Rather than look at him, she pulled out her phone, quickly ordering a tow truck to get the now useless car off the road. She hoped to high heaven that the phone screen didn't illuminate the blush she could feel setting into her cheeks. Turns out, being away for five years did not reduce the impact your high school crush had on you.

"My apologies, ma'am," She looked up at that, glad to know he was still polite as always. That man didn't have a mean bone in his body, one of the many things she found exceptionally attractive. "But I can't seem to recall having met you."

That caused her to roll her eyes, less happy to know he was still a jokester. "Hahaha, very funny, Jas. Seriously though, we're both super late, and the toe truck is already on its... way..." She looked up to a bashful apologetic smile; realization hit her, causing her to double over in laughter. "Holy shit, you really don't remember me, do you? That's too fucking funny."

"I'm sorry I don't, but if you'd let me buy you a drink, I'd love to catch up."

"Are... are you trying to flirt with me now?" It was too much; this was quite possibly the most hilarious thing to have ever happened to her. A devious grin spread across her face; she always had like playing games with him; why stop now. "Tell you what, when you can remember who I am, if you still want to ask me out, I'll go on a date with you."

"Do I get any hints?" As expected, he responded positively to the idea.

"Oh no, you have to figure it out on your own. Now help me into your ridiculously oversized truck... like you used to."

"Ma'am," He chuckled as he lifted her up, "I reckon that's a hint of sorts."

"It's whatever you want it to be, cowboy." She buckled up and pulled out her cell once again, tapping out a message to her soon to be sister in law. She explained the situation and begged her to inform all their friends to not tell Jasper her name. He had to figure this one out on his own.

Jasper tried questioning her the entire ride to the restaurant. She had quickly given him a set of ground rules; he couldn't ask her about her life before age twenty, her family, or how she knew anyone in town. So he asked about her line of work, hobbies, etc.

She responded by giving out as little information as possible, thinking that things would click as soon as they got to the restaurant. She was wrong.

Walking into the restaurant, the first person to greet them was Jasper's little sister Charlotte.

"It's great to see you again!" The woman wrapped her up in a hug before turning to Jasper. "You're an absolute idiot. How could you not remember her? And after what you did..."

"What exactly did I do?" He looked at his sister with pleading eyes hoping she would bail him out like she usually did when he got in trouble.

"No, I'm not helping you this time, bro. You deserve it." With a flip of her hair, she left him standing there.

"What did you do?" He leaned down to whisper. "How does my sister already know about our deal?"

"I may or may not have asked the bride to inform her guests of our little arrangement. Or did you think I'd let you off that easy? You may not remember, but I am a formidable opponent, Mr. Whitlock."

"Game on, little lady." He smirked at her fondly, causing her heart to race, God she'd missed that look.

He looked as though he wanted to say something when Emmett came bounding up to the pair picking up Alice into a giant bear hug. He set her down before turning to Jasper. "Thanks for giving this one a ride, man. I keep telling her to replace that old car and get a truck."

"I'll die before anyone catches me driving one of those monstrosities you country boys think are so cool. By the way, your lift kit makes you look like a douchebag. Besides, that cars got sentimental value."

"You bought it off a farm for $300 five years ago. What sort of sentimental value could it possibly have child?"

"Okay, not a child. I'm twenty-five, so get that straight. You don't know the whole story behind how I got that car, so you can just move right along." Emmett laughed as he walked away, obliging the request to greet more of his guests. Meanwhile, Alice reflected on a memory.

"I think you've got it, Al." Jasper nodded approvingly from the passenger's seat. They had been cruising along backroads for weeks now. After she'd informed him, she didn't dive because she didn't know how; his immediate response had been to teach her. "Could probably go take the test tomorrow. I got time in the afternoon."

"I don't have anything to take it in, but at least now I can drive in an emergency. Like next time you or Emmet hurt yourselves actin' like idiots."

"I'll sell ya this one. $300, never use it anyway since I got the truck now. Just sits around collectin dust."

"Daddy's gonna kill me for gettin a license; I don't even wanna know how he'd react to my gettin a car."

"Keep it at my place then," He'd shrugged.

"Why are you so adamant about selling me this car." She questioned him.

"Don't worry about it." He looked away from her flustered, "It's yours whether you pay me or not, so get over it. Now drive us back to my place so I can take you home. It's gettin' late."

"You alright, Ma'am?" Jasper's voice in the present brought her back to reality.

"Yeah, just remembering something."

The rest of the dinner had gone off without a hitch; Jasper followed her around, waiting for someone to slip and give up her name. Alice greeted numerous friends from her childhood, and thankfully no one spoiled her game, many of them actually insulting Jasper's intelligence. She'd been a bit concerned Maria would give her away. Her former best friend had been so excited to introduce Alice to her fiance, a man from Washington named Riley, that she'd let out the first syllable of her name.

"So it starts with an A then." He'd smirked, thinking he was onto something.

As the night went on, Rosalie pulled her to the side, shooting Jasper one of her famous glares silently communicating, 'If you follow us, I will kill you.' She gave Alice a hug, informed her of what dates she needed to be where for bridesmaid duties, told her she thought the thing with Jasper was hilarious, and broke th

#jaliceweek20 #Jalice #alice cullen #jasper hale #YeeHaw

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shewantedtobeasecretgirl · 4 years

Text

10. Bathroom wall a.k.a. a queen bee, Prince in the shower and a backup Casanova (Part Two)

Finally, that Donna Summer song is over… Although disco is not my favorite genre, I have nothing against her generally but now… the part in which she’s repeating “Hot-hot-hot-hot stuuuuff” reminded me of the sound of the rototiller which would break down in every single winter and my grandpa would always have to try for hours and hours to breathe life into it in spring. And the music was also way too loud in comparison to the fact the clientele of this place consists mostly of exhausted truck drivers who only want to chill to Chris Rhea’s Road to Hell. If they wanted noise, they would go to a strip club to see Miss North Carolina ’86 dropping her clothes to something from AC/DC. Probably Highway to Hell. Variations on a theme. But probably this little dump doesn’t even have a proper strip club.

Luckily, this shabby roadhouse has a separate room for pool tables; it’s pretty hidden and easily approachable without being noticed. Not that I don’t like hanging out with the guys… okay, that’s also a part of it, we’ve been basically locked in a tour bus, concert venues and hotel rooms since last September. We’re each other’s company all the time, the only place where I can spend a few hours by myself is basically the ever-changing setting of my incoherent dreams. Only mentally, of course, since basically there’s always someone snoring around. And of course, they also keep showing up in random scenarios and with people they don’t even know but that’s the point of dreams, your brain forces you to put jigsaw puzzle pieces together that don’t match. Or they do, you just don’t know about it… Long story short, there’s no way to get rid of these dudes… Okay, it sounds as if they annoyed me… shit, they do annoy me more and more often and I hate this feeling. We’re basically friends; we wouldn’t be able to play in the same band if we didn’t get on well. But before we started touring, we’d all had our own circles including friends and colleagues, different hobbies, natural habitat… and music and the band had been only the intersection of them. We met when we had to do something as a band, we spent time together to write songs, rehearse, record… and in the remaining time, everybody lived their own life. That we don’t have anymore.

Usually, I try to not see only the dark side of this situation but now, I’m not feeling able to put on a smiley face. Maybe the fact that my whole digestive system is burning doesn’t help either… I bought a cola at the gas station next to the bar and smuggled it in under my jacket. That’s the only piece of advice of the doctor that is also useful under tour circumstances. I mean, I can’t just drop everything and lie down when the pains are coming, I can’t spend my evening sitting on the loo when I have to play a gig and who cares about diet when you can’t even eat or sleep on a regular basis? But cola is always there, no matter where I am. It’s the only thing that eases my nausea effectively and isn’t very conspicuous at the same time. And this one is as cold as ice, it feels good to press the bottle to my stomach as I’m crouching in fetal position in this armchair. Although the doctor probably wouldn’t approve, I spiked it with a few drops of rum. To be honest, they were bigger drops but I finally wanted to empty my flask. I decided to give up drinking spirits, beer makes me unpredictable enough and mixing drinks only fucks my digestion up too.

“Here you are, finally! I knew you were somewhere here too!”

So much for hiding…

“Hi, Karrie…”

“Man, you’re missing the best parts… some local chicks started courting the guys, they even got them to dance…”

“Awesome…”

“Mike, can you hear what I’m telling you? I said the guys were made to dance… I mean, the guys such as Jeff, Dave and Stone… and dance, like, moving the body rhythmically to the music… Although the girl who picked Stone had a difficult job…”

“Let me guess: she failed.” I remark in a bored voice and shake the bottle in small circles not to waste a drop of my drink.

“Mike? Is something wrong with you? Normally, you would basically drop everything and rush there to see the end of the scene but… yes, something’s wrong with you...” she answers her own question with a concerned face sinking down slowly onto the other armchair.

“I’m fine…” I mumble as I embrace my knees and lean my chin against them.

“Mike, I haven’t known you for a long time but I’m pretty sure that sitting alone curled up like a hedgehog is not your normal state. The pains, again, right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t like being taken for an idiot. Ninety percent of my job basically consists of watching every move of yours and trying to figure out your needs before you would even think about them. Do you think I haven’t noticed you’re suffering?”

I should have known. She usually stays in the background, doesn’t meddle in the business of the others but she’s all ears and eyes… she knows everything about us.

“All I know is that it must be something with your stomach or intestines… I don’t know exactly how serious it might be but it seems to be serious enough to be treated…” she goes on ignoring my stubborn silence. “Have you already seen a doctor? Have you already been diagnosed?”

I’ve seen several ones. I have a diagnosis. But I doubt she wants to hear the detailed description of my medical history, in particular the analysis of that delightful feeling when objects are being put up into your butthole.

“Do the others know about it?”

Oh, sure… like the inexhaustible source of Stone’s stupid anal jokes needed any feeding…No, thanks. And enlightening the others about the fact that pissing in the corner and running around naked aren’t the only sorts of accidents happening with me from time to time isn’t one of my top priorities either.

“Look, Mike, you’re an adult. Legally, leastways. I can’t tell you what to do and I’m finished with the heart-to-heart, I promise but… come on, all I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to feel ashamed and you can live a quality life whatever your problem is, for example Effie…”

“Effie?” I try not to sound like a maniac but I almost kick the table over as I jump back in regular sitting position. “You mean she…?”

“Hasn’t Judy mentioned it?”

“What?” I ask so far as I’m able to speak at all due to the lump in my throat that grew out of nothing of the mere mention of her name.

“She’s been waiting for new kidneys, or at least one new kidney for months. It’s pretty difficult to find a suitable donor for her… but she’s optimistic, as always. And also angry a bit but it only helped her move on.”

“May I ask… what happened to her? I mean, I understand if it’s not public or…” I try to form coherent sentences, which is not that easy at all after this shock therapy.

“It’s not a secret, it’s the result of medical mistakes.” she starts telling the whole story. The chain of her ordeals is more than simple misfortune, and honestly, as I’m trying to recall that compelling but still playful voice, it’s difficult to believe her life depends on permanent medical help. “…and that’s where we are now.” she finishes with a deeps sigh.

“Poor girl…”

“She’d cut your throat if she heard you. She hates being pitied and tries to keep her life in the normal track very hard, limits and obstacles have always annoyed her… but she’s not that kind of girl to whom you can explain that life can be complete without sky diving, rock climbing or space travel too.” she shrugs with a bittersweet smile.

“Does that mean she keeps going on with her studies and…”

“That’s the problem. She’s suspended her studies, gave up her student jobs but she’s already regretted it. And Annie, I mean, her mom is overconcerned and wants her to rest and stick around until the transplantation will have been carried out. And that’s one of the reasons why I recommended Judy as my replacement…”

“They need money…”

“Yup. But the point of my coming up with Effie’s case is to make you understand you’re not alone, having an illness is not a shame but I hate clichés so I rather shut up. I don’t want to lecture you, I would just feel guilty if I didn’t even try to talk about it with you.”

“I have already heard so much about her… do you have a picture of her or something? I’m curious… I mean, it’d be nice if I could connect a face to all those awesome stories…” I hear myself talking. Gaah, I don’t want seem to be pushy or a psycho stalker but I need to see her face.

“Uhmm, I used to keep a few family photos in my wallet, if you’re lucky I still have them…” she begins to rummage in her purse. “Ah, here it is. But no, that’s an old one.” she puts the picture back before I could take a look at it.

“NO, I WANT TO SEE IT.” I grab her forearm. “Please…?” I soften my voice seeing her puzzled expression. So much for avoiding deranged behavior.

“She was like seventeen when it was taken, it’s the yearbook photo from her senior year I guess.” she hands it to me.

I don’t know what I was expecting or if I was expecting anything at all but one thing I know: I wasn’t prepared for THIS. Judy mentioned she was blond and had blue eyes and normally, I would pair this combo with a Barbie-type girl in my imagination. But she’s everything but a Barbie-doll, her clear, shining, honest eyes stare into the camera with some cautiousness but if you examine her face carefully enough, you can discover hints of impishness playing around her lips and those tiny freckles around her nose and her skin that was still wearing the last kiss of late summer sun when the picture was taken… Jesus ‘Cready, you’re not a poet, you’re not even sane. Yes, I must have lost my mind, I’m hearing music in my head… “Drea-ea-ea-eam, dream, dream, dream…”

“Mike… Mike… Miiiike…” I find myself in the reality again when Karrie snaps a couple times with her fingers in front of my face. And I realize I didn’t grow a DJ in my mind, the song of Everly Brothers is actually playing in the bar.

“I take this now back, I found another one.” Karrie has to basically disentangle my clenched, grabby fingers from the photo but my eyes are still glued to the face in it, greedily collecting the tiniest details until it disappears in the wallet. “Here.” she pushes the other picture in front of me. “It’s from last year, I think, her hair is curlier here but that’s her natural look, she doesn’t have it straightened too often.”

The second photo gives that human tornado, that young woman clearly back whom I’ve imagined so many times since that very phone call and of whom now I know that she’s officially out of my league. It’s definitively confirmed, not that I had any chance to meet her in real life or at least talk to her again…

“You know what? You should consider talking with her about it. I think she’d understand it better than any of us.” Karrie remarks casually while sliding the pictures back into their place.

Oh. Yes. Sure. Why not call this angel to tell her I’m a disgusting pig who doesn’t have the slightest control over his metabolism, lets out disgusting sounds involuntarily and shits in his pants at least once in a week. Yes, that’s something I would totally chat with her about…

“It’s just an idea, I’m sure Judy would help you find a way to get in contact with her… of course, only if you want to…”

“Houston, we have a problem… Karrie… there’s a situation… we need you…” Scully basically falls into the room breathlessly.

“Jesus, what happened?” she jumps up terrified.

“It’s Judy… you should go after her…” he gasps pressing his hand against his right side. “I’ll tell you on the way…”

“Sorry Mike, we’ll talk about it later…” she shouts back on leaving.

At least my interrogation is over and I can spend some time alone since the others seem to be busy with that “situation”, whatever it is… Maybe I could practice pool tricks, I still haven’t given up my goal to beat Stone at least once in this lifetime. Even if we aren’t playing against each other, he keeps bothering me with his sarcastic comments and doesn’t let me try things in my own way, I can’t really improve my pool skills when he’s around.

After playing a few rounds against myself and winning, of course, I realize the pains have almost gone… It’s so weird, you immediately notice discomfort but you’re always unaware of the lack of it for a while, especially if you manage to direct your thoughts on something else. I guess I should look for the others, I hope Judy’s okay…

“Sorry” an unknown female voice addresses me with a short cough “have you got light?”

***

„So… what’s the plan?” Dave asks leaning on the counter with his elbows facing towards the tables.

“What plan?” I ask back positioning myself in the same way to be able to take a look around.

“For the evening… with the ladies.” he winks meaningfully.

“I don’t know… I guess we’re just hanging out. But why are you asking me? It is you and Jeff who are allowed to have any plans with any ladies… I have a beautiful girlfriend at home, remember…” I answer and I feel my lips pulling in a wide grin; I can’t help, I’ve developed this instant reaction that occurs whenever my gorgeous blondie is on my mind.

“How could I forget… you’d never miss an opportunity to rub this fact in our face. Anyway, Jeff doesn’t seem to be interested in them either, for obvious reasons…”

I squint at the pinball machine where the two second fiddles whose names I’m simply unable to recall are trying to break their personal records. I don’t really get why they think screaming helps them keep the ball on the play field but at least they prevent Jeff from falling asleep; he’s suppressing one yawn after another while stealing glances alternately at the basketball match on the TV screen and the table around which Scully, the slightly deranged leader of the girl bunch and our pocket-sized roadie are having an apparently deep conversation.

“He shouldn’t torture himself, his obvious reason doesn’t give a fuck about his awkward performance.”

“You can never know. Maybe she ignores intentionally that he’s ignoring her intentionally. But I guess you’re happy about it, the super professional band leader who’s against within-band hook-ups…”

“You know my opinion…” I shrug. “Just think about Fleetwood Mac and what happened to them.”

“Uhm, they became a world-famous top rock band?”

“You’re right! Come with me in the restroom, NOW!”

We both burst out in a dirty, tipsy laughter and it takes a few minutes until we calm down enough to be able to speak again.

“So, what are your plans?” I nudge him still shaking of warm-down snorts from time to time.

“I guess if the dynamics don’t change very quickly in the opposite direction, Jeff will vanish in less than ten minutes… and I’ll have to sacrifice myself and keep both chick entertained in the rest of the evening. But I don’t mind, they’re both cute.” Dave takes a sip of his beer wiggling his eyebrows satisfied.

“Both chick? What about… Caledonia?” I nod towards the black-haired alpha female of the trio.

“Her name is Claudia, geez man, you’re hopeless… but no, thanks, her behavior reminds me of that psycho woman in Fatal Attraction too much.” he frowns. “Stoney, be a man and do what you gotta do.”

“…which is…? Jesus, I’m not interested in any random girl I encounter and as you said, she’s totally insane, while we were dancing…”

“… while she was dancing…”

“… I felt as if I had been caught by a boa constrictor that was squeezing me tighter and tighter and I swear, it must have been an extended, super long version of Hot Stuff, I thought it would never end, like, it was at least three minutes longer than usual…” I go on since I’m not willing to react to his undisguised reference to my dance talent.

“Just go back to her, have a polite chat with her and say bye in half an hour… maybe I can keep Jeff here and you can use each other as excuse for leaving. I’ll be here and keep an eye on you and in case she gets out of control, I call the local herpers to catch her.” Dave presents his concept about the strategy I should follow.

“Herpers against herpes, it sounds like the name of some non-profit organization... Okay, approved but if I start yelling “red code”, you launch the rescue operation, that’s the signal.”

“Just go finally, the sooner you begin, the earlier you can get out of here.”

I grab my beer and walk to the small company around the table but as soon as I arrive, all its members fall suddenly silent.

“What’s up, Scully? Hi Claudia.” I greet them and get a dark look from the third person whom I’m trying to ignore to get away with the situation as simply as possible.

“Scully… what kind of name is that at all?” Claudia mutters listlessly; for some unknown reason her energetic behavior has gone; she’s playing with her hair bored leaning her face against her palm.

“There are some who call me… Tim.” Scully uses the occasion to crack a Monty Python joke.

“Tim the Enchanter.” I finish the quote basically swallowing the last syllable since I hear the other girl uttering the same words simultaneously.

“Is that some inside joke of yours?” Claudia mumbles unwillingly.

“Kind of.” I answer in the same style. “But his real name is Timothy, that’s the truth.”

“Anyway, these weird nicknames are pretty common in your crew. Scully… Stone… I wonder how you got this one.” she goes on in a monotonous voice. It’s strange, she doesn’t sound like someone who feels like having a conversation at all. Maybe she’s that depressed type of drunk.

“Guess what: from his parents.” the annoying little smartass answers instead of me raising one eyebrow.

“Oh, really? Your name is almost as bizarre as you.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck. I don’t mind if she spares me an uncomfortable talk and leaves me alone before I would ditch her but why is this turnaround?

“Judy, you promised you were going to play foosball with me! Come, the tables are finally free!” Scully jumps to his feet pulling his colleague by her hand.

“What? I didn’t promise anything, I…”

“Come on, you have a mind like a sieve, of course you did! We could invite the others too and you could teach us those mind-blowing tricks!” he drags her enthusiastically in the direction of the foosball tables; she seemingly protests a little but finally gives in and follows him reluctantly.

“Uhm… I hate to admit but she’s a first-class player.” I speak up with a sentence I didn’t want to say at all but the urge to break the awkward silence was strong enough that my mind forgot to look for better topics.

“Wow.”

Gosh, I’ll need anti-depressants, if she goes on like this.

“I everything okay?” I try to look in her eyes. “I mean… you seemed to have fun when you came over, you even danced… but now… I mean, if it’s a private thing, you don’t have to answer…”

“Stone… you are a really nice guy and all, handsome, actually funny but… I don’t think we would match.”

Thank God. But something I can’t explain makes me ask for the reason instead of confessing I’m not available anyway.

“Oh. I see. And… what makes you think we’re too different?”

“I don’t know… there are just so many antagonistic characteristics… For example, I don’t like animals. I mean, I just can’t get on well with them, I don’t even like watching documentaries on them.”

“I love them, I have a cat called Red and I love dogs too, my family has always had dogs. But I know there are people who feel strange when animals are around, I’m okay with that… what else?” I inquire; the suspicious feeling keeps telling me something’s not okay here, something’s FUCKIN’ not okay here. Maybe if I ask further questions, I get closer to the reason of her behavior.

“I don’t eat red meat at all.”

“Haha, then we have something in common. I have vegetarian phases from time to time and I’m right in the middle of one. I have nothing against meat but I only consume them at special occasions.”

“But that’s the point, I hate these special occasions!” she blurts out passionately. “And I loathe even the smell of beef, let alone touching it.”

“I repeat, I can live without it.” I laugh. “And… your concern about differences is really sweet but I have to tell you something: I have a girlfriend at home, we’ve been together for months so…”

“I know! And you’re so lucky to have someone who accepts you the way you are, even if your taste is everything but ordinary and…”

Let’s wait for a second… how does she know about Amber? And what’s this babbling about my quirky style? And what was this madness about animals and meat? My mind switches to replay mode and I try to recall the moments of the evening double-time… I see ourselves arriving, them coming to our table, us dancing to the fast-forward version of Hot Stuff, them disappearing in the restroom, them getting back from the restroom and joining Scully and J…STOP! Her. That. Little. Shit. It could be only her. She must have said something about me, something crazy shit, because that’s what she’s doing all the time, she tries to turn everybody against me and ruin my reputation and… Okay, first I have to get rid of Claudia, it’s not her fault, after all.

“Thanks for saying that, it’s very nice from you. And I’m sure, sooner or later you’ll find a guy who really fits you. I hope I didn’t hurt you but I don’t really like to talk about my private life. But I guess my friends enlightened you about the details to avoid misunderstandings…” I squint at her playing the gentle refusal routine. If my presumption is correct, it’ll turn out here and now.

“Oh yes!” she jumps on my words immediately. “Judy told me everything. She cares about you a lot, she’s such a good friend!”

“She is.” A good friend of cheap tricks and pretended innocence. But she’ll pay for this. “Her problems are usually similar to mine so we are pretty much on the same wavelength.” Whatever it is, I throw the shit back at that viper. “But this is so awkward and I don’t want to waste your time so… I wish you all the best and good luck with guys!” I stand up already thinking about medieval methods of torment I would gladly try on that two-faced dwarf.

“Thanks… and be happy with that lucky girl!” she sends a saddish smile and I feel guilty for a second for leaving her alone right when she stopped playing the role of the tempting seductress. But while I’m walking to the foosball tables, my thoughts are going back to my unfinished business with that hypocrite, mean…

“No, Scully, the point is in the right angle, look, I don’t shoot the ball until… hey, Scully, you’re not even watching… oh.” she suddenly falls silent and flushes as she follows the gaze of the pale, petrified guitar tech in my direction as I arrive to them. He was obviously trying to save her ass but I don’t blame him, he hates fights, he probably feels being between two fires.

“You know what? I’m also dying to learn more about your little tricks.” I stop at the foosball table with folded arms.

“Oh my God, I love tricks.” Claudia’s enthusiastic friend chirps from the other side of the table. “What? I do love them!” she whines not decoding the strict face the third member of their bunch sends at her after nudging her to finally shut up.

“S-sure, I gladly show them to you too…” the manipulative little beast stutters.

“Face-to-face.” I cut her off in my coldest voice and I can basically hear how hard she just swallowed.

“Ugh… let’s look for Jeff and Dave.” Scully steers the two confused, reluctant friends of Claudia out of range basically tossing them towards the bar counter.

“So, what do you want to know?” she asks almost cheerfully; what an acting performance.

“Oh, I want to know a lot of things… if aliens exist… where the other half of my favorite pair of socks might be… what’s the equivalent of blushing at chameleons… why Claudia suddenly started treating me as if I was a leper…”

“They do. Probably in Jeff’s suitcase. You can’t embarrass a reptile. Maybe she has finally seen the light…” she lists her answers shrugging nonchalantly. “But I guess it’s a relief for you, so we’re happy now, huh?”

“It depends. I wonder if someone helped her out with some useful information about me…”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about… not that it matters as for the result…” she starts spinning the sticks in the table for no reason, since no one else is around, it’s probably just a pathetic excuse for avoiding eye contact.

“You know, I like to decide on my own with whom I want to spend my time.”

“Do you absolutely exclude the possibility of other people feeling the same way? What if she just didn’t enjoy your company?”

“That’s not impossible but the marvelous change in her behavior makes me think something happened either in the restroom or at the table… and guess what? You were there the whole time too.”

“Are you stalking me? Jesus, should I have reported what I was doing at the loo? And I’m even sitting at tables, holy shit, that’s a federal crime.”

“She herself told you on. I haven’t figured out yet what you told her but I know Scully like the back of my hand; he’s obviously trying to cover for you but keeping secret and acting aren’t his strengths. Sooo… you can play dumb but it’ll take me less than two minutes to get everything out of him.”

Her hands stop fidgeting in the second she realizes there’s no point in denying.

“If you’re convinced that much, then why are you asking me? Just execute me here and now…” she stretches out her arms playing the role of the innocent, targeted victim.

“Nah, you can’t get away with it so easily. I wanna know why you did what you did.” I stand in her way since I can see her eyes mapping the possible escapes.

“Why do you want to know why I did what you think I did?” she asks back still keeping the poker face. She still thinks she can win, unbelievable.

“Well… it’s just interesting. Jeff and Dave danced with those girls too but as far as I can see, their popularity hasn’t decreased, I wonder why…” I turn around for a second and nod towards our table where the guys are laughing hard at something with Scully and Claudia’s friends, Claudia seems to have been vanished in the meantime, though.

“Because they don’t have girlfriends...” she remarks earnestly staring at them, not even noticing she broke the character.

“So that’s it? That’s why you did it? You think I can’t even look at other girls since I’m not single?”

“You just shouldn’t. I mean, you found a girl who meets your special needs, you wouldn’t have such luck once again in this lifetime.” she sits back on the high horse again.

“What special needs?” I ask eagerly hoping I can finally put the whole picture together.

“I don’t know, four boobs, tiny brain, large bed, I guess…” she goes on with the bullshit.

“That’s you theory about my needs? Wonderful… So you think I would have cheated on my girlfriend without your machination?” I raise my voice.

“I didn’t say that…”

“Did I kiss her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Did I hug her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Did I grope her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Then what the fuck did I do that bothered your sensitive soul so much that you dared intervene in my business?” I lean over her making her back away.

“You laughed and…”

“What?” I scream. “You think me laughing with someone wearing skirt makes you entitled for shit-talking? You’re insane. You know what? You can play the self-proclaimed moral police of the crew or Seattle or the whole fuckin’ universe, I don’t give a fuck. Just leave. Me. Alone. Mind your own love life. Oh, wait? You don’t have one? Maybe that’s the problem?” I cover my mouth with my palm pretending shock.

“Screw you, Gossard.” she whispers hoarsely and tosses me away with her shoulder rushing past me.

***

I catch her at the entrance, in front of the building. Scully was right, she seems to be pretty upset.

“Shit, shit, SHIT!!!” she shouts emphasizing the last “shit” by kicking at full strength in the dumpster standing on the side of the road. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” she bounces with painful groans on one leg until she almost loses her balance and limps back to plop down onto the curb.

“I heard that Converse was planning to launch steel toe sneakers, first I thought the brand managers were tripping on something but seeing you it totally makes sense.” I remark as I take place next to her with the moves and in the pace of a seventy-year-old woman; this position is anything but comfortable for my permanently aching knee.

“Ha, very funny. I should have kicked him in the balls. With steel toe boots…” she mumbles taking her foot in her lap. “I hope I didn’t break my big toe.” she tries to make a diagnosis by palpation.

“If I’m not wrong, you’re talking about the genitalia of Stone Carpenter Gossard.”

To my biggest surprise, it’s not the anatomical term that catches her attention.

“What? Carpenter?” she asks snickering but she also wipes out an involuntary teardrop with the back of her hand from the corner of her eye in the meantime. Whatever happened, it must have actually hurt.

“Yes, that’s his middle name. But: you didn’t hear it from me. And, I know the temptation is huge but try to keep this information until you can use it with cool head.”

“I’m as cold as an icicle.” she sniffles bitterly.

“As a melting icicle.” I stop a next teardrop rolling down on her face with my thumb. “Come on, what happened?”

“Nothing. I’m just so sick of it. So sick of him.”

“What has he done?”

“You mean apart from getting addicted to oxygen twenty-something years ago?”

“Did he say something?” I ignore her sarcastic response.

She laces her arms around her knees and begins to examine her shoes.

“Did he do something?”

She insists on remaining silent and resists my interrogation pretending the patterns on her socks require all her attention.

“Or didn’t he say or do something? That’s the problem? Look, I don’t have to care about your childish quarrel. I just wanted to check if you’re okay since Scully was worried about you. But frankly, maybe too many people are already busy with trying to keep your war over sandbox toys under control.”

“You could finally decide on whose side you are…”

“Obviously on Stone’s. But it has practical reasons, Mike mentioned once he had drunk expired beer during a gig with his previous band and he’d vomited in the amplifier…” I try to ease the tension. “But Jesus, Judy, joke aside, I’m on nobody’s side, of course. I’m just trying to help but if I don’t know what happened, I can’t. And I’m helpless since believe or not, I know he’s a really great guy and I also know you’re an awesome chick and honestly, I have no clue why your arrival has turned him completely inside out.”

“So it’s my fault.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I’m just… so sick of him.”

“You’ve already said that.” I fish a tissue out of my pocket and hand her so that she doesn’t use her forearm to clean her nose.

“You know… he’s not the first smug prick I have to deal with, I met enough of them at Juilliard… but usually, I just ignored them.”

“Then why don’t you ignore him too?” I ask although I know there are several reasons that make this idea extremely difficult.

“I’m not in the position in which I could pretend he’s invisible. And inaudible. I mean, letting it slide sounds like a way that could be even effective, maybe he would get tired of torturing me after a while… but it’s not like high school bullying, I don’t have years to get rid of him, at least you have a glimmer of hope every year there that maybe the bullies find a new victim in the freshman class… But… despite what this whole situation looks like, this is the adult world. This is my job, the management is my employer and if the band is not satisfied with me, I’m going to be fired.”

“But they are satisfied with you…”

Her disbelieving expression makes me correct my sentence.

“They are not dissatisfied with you…”

“Stone is. And he’s the leader and main songwriter of the band so if it came to a dealbreaker… guess who would draw the short straw.”

“Who talks about a dealbreaker? At this point, you’re my trainee. You’re under my protection.”

“And you know what’s the most irritating part? That I’m trying, I’m really trying… I do everything to fulfil his wishes…”

“…which are often ridiculous, let’s be honest. I mean, he’s an immensely talented musician but he… all of them have to learn that being loud and raw isn’t the most important thing…”

“Exactly… I just want to turn up the volume until his monitor box explodes and then just shrug, like “you wanted this, fucker”.“ we both giggle recalling the awkward moments and the looks we exchanged at sound checks. “But what’s your strategy? How can you convince him?”

“Well… I don’t try to convince him with explicit arguments… somehow I learned how to make him believe that my suggestion was originally his idea.”

“Clever… but ah, I couldn’t make it… he disagrees with everything I come up with… it’s like an innate reflex at him.”

“Aaand you’ve just caught the point!” I snap with my fingers.

“…which is… that it’s a reflex and he can’t help it?” she frowns.

“No, the other thing you said… he disagrees with everything that comes from you.”

“…aaand…?” her hands circling around each other urge me for getting straight to the point. “Yes, I’m the problem, I know, there’s nothing new in that.”

“NO! And actually… I’d rather keep you in the dark about it. Namely, we’ve got a plan.”

Two plans actually, in case plan A doesn’t work…

“We? You and…?”

“Schmitty, Brett and Scully. None of them is particularly good at keeping secret but this time they are holding on, I’m very proud of them. But as far as I know you, you’d ruin everything if you knew the details.”

“I can’t wait… if it doesn’t involve a pair of dirty, stinky socks getting stuffed into Stone’s mouth, I’m not interested in it, anyway… whatever… sorry for being skeptical, the guy is smart, he smells plans and tricks from miles… and even if he doesn’t, he ruins your self-esteem and drives you into series of mistakes and then” she claps suddenly making me start ”he gets you and makes fun of you.”

“You don’t need to exaggerate, he’s not Satan itself…”

“Are you sure?” she narrows her eyes meaningfully. “I had finally gained some confidence by the time I graduated from Juilliard, I mean, I finally believed that being admitted and receiving a degree there meant I could really… achieve something… and now... I feel like I’m at the start again.”

“The situation is certainly out of your comfort zone… but you came from a different world… and his world is strange for you too and…”

“If it was only about this!” she cuts me off. “He’s mocking me permanently, at everything. Everything. Like in elementary school, he makes remarks about my look, my dresses…”

“But you mock him back!”

“… my love… life…” she goes on in a thinner voice. “Or… rather the lack of it. Rude remarks.”

Whoa, that’s new. Obviously, I’ve heard him cracking jokes about her innocent look and Jeff’s admiration for her that he rather disapproved than encouraged, by the way… but he hadn’t humiliated her publicly only for being single… I need a context.

“What did he say exactly?”

“He told me not to put my nose into other people’s business… and that I should to stay away from his private life and insulted me by saying I didn’t even have a love interest…” she recalls in a bored voice like she was reciting a textbook.

“That doesn’t make any sense… what happened before?” I inquire. Something tells me that’s only the second half of the story…

“We had sort of a… disagreement.”

“You don’t say…” I squint at her. “Come on, don’t make me pull everything out of you word by word!”

“Can I have a cigarette?” she asks out of the blue.

“But you don’t even smoke!” I protest.

“Do you want me to go on or not? Just give me a cigarette, please.”

“Oookaaay…” I hand her the pack with my lighter in it.

“So… there were those girls who showed up in the bar… they sat down to the guys’ table…” she begins as she hits the pack with her index finger a few times to set a cigarette free.

“Yes, I saw them, they even danced with them, it was hilarious!” I giggle. Honestly, not only the recall of the scene cracks me up, her fumbling with the lighter is hysterical too.

“One of them… Claudia… she hit on him. I mean, on Stone.” she utters with disgust as she succeeds in lighting the cigarette for about the sixteenth attempt.

“Oh yeah… she seemed pretty pushy.”

“Pushy is not the right term, she was just shameless! I encountered her in the restroom, she started asking questions about him, you know, if he’s single, what kind of girls he liked, stuff like that. And I… ahem… I told… ahem-ahem… I told her… ahem… I told he had a girlfriend ahem-ahem-ahem-ahem…”

Even the first drag drives her on the verge of choking.

“Are you sure you want to smoke it?”

“Yes, I am… ahem… I’m okay… I’m just… ahem. Okay. I think it’s over.” her breathing calms down finally. “So” she takes another drag, a perceptibly more cautious one “long story short, she didn’t even care… and that asshole didn’t even resist.”

“I didn’t see him reciprocating her approach… What should he have resisted?”

“Everything? OUCH!!!”

Due to her outraged hand moves, she managed to drop the ash onto her forearm.

“Okay, you give that to me…” I grab her by the wrist and take the cigarette between my own middle and index finger. “When you’re smoking, you have to ash it regularly to avoid accidents like this. It also burns while you’re talking, just sayin’…”

“Damn… but it’d feel really good to hold a cigarette in my hand while I’m flailing…” she whines still rubbing her forearm.”

“Here. But don’t even try to light it. We can pretend you’re smoking it. Go on.” I hand her a fresh cigarette and begin to puff the one I confiscated.

“And I got just… so angry! I mean, how can one be such a slut?” she gestures on with wider moves.

“Well, a lot of girls just want to have fun and…”

“No, I’m talking about him! He’s got a girlfriend… who must be beautiful and smart and perfect and… “

“Wait, you don’t know anything about her…”

“That’s true but guys like him obviously wouldn’t date any girl…”

I’m dying to know what she means by “guys like him” but maybe this is not the right moment to ask it straightforwardly…

“But he didn’t do anything particular with that girl…” I try to defend him effortlessly.

“Were you there too? Because I was. And trust me, without my intervention, a lot more would have happened…”

“Wait, your intervention?” I perk my head but receive no response. “Judy??? What did you do?”

“I… I might have said her a few things… about Stone…” she confesses with burning cheeks.

“Things like…???” I claim a detailed explanation. Maybe she’s not as innocent this time as I thought…

“I told her things about… what he likes…” she answers reluctantly.

“Like beer or dogs or disco music or what the hell? Tell me the whole fuckin’ story or I leave, I swear!” I flare out at her.

“Things… he likes in… bed…”

Oh. The idea of Judy disclosing Stone’s bedroom secrets sounds dangerous enough to make me choose my words wisely.

“But you… you don’t know what kind of sex he likes… do you?”

“Jesus, of course I don’t, I don’t even want to think about the fact that that freak has sex at all! Jesus… not even in my worst nightmares…” she rolls her eyes staring in front of her.

“But then… how did you know…”

“I… used my… imagination…” she sums up with a brief shrug.

I’ve never heard a more euphemistic synonym for lying. “I used my imagination…” Wicked woman.

“Oh my… and what was your intention with that?”

“To make her reconsider her choice… and to defend Stone from her… you know, I wanted to help him getting out of this situation, guys just never have the strength... I basically did him a favor!”

Of course, Judy helping Stone. I could even imagine it but strictly only after the arrival of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

“Thinking back about the beginning of our conversation, he couldn’t be particularly grateful for the helping hand…”

“Well, the thing is that the nature of our relationship sort of… influenced my word usage…”

“Judy, I’ve known you since your birth, you don’t need to use vague sentences… just tell what you told her finally!”

“I told her he liked watching animals, I might have mentioned mating animals. For example, watching David Attenborough video tapes before he…”

“I get it, I get it… but that’s not that extreme, thank God you didn’t say he liked animal porn in which people do it with animals…”

“Maybe I mentioned further preferences too… maybe I said something about him liking eating from the girl’s body…”

“That can even be hot, a lot of people are into it, that’s not that bad at all, Judy…” I snicker.

“…unusual food… like bloody steak with Worcestershire sauce… with knife and fork…”

I immediately stop giggling and freeze because I have the sinister feeling she still has something to confess.

“Uhm… I thought you were talking about potentially erotic food like strawberry and whipped cream but in case the girl likes steak too…”

“…and it’s possible I said things about his… performance too…”

“Oh, no.”

“I remember mentioning… he needs, uhm, special actions to become… motivated.” she fidgets with her shoelaces absent-mindedly, wrapping them around her index fingers.

“Okay, whatever, go ahead, I’m prepared.” I cover my eyes with my hands as if they could prevent me from visualizing her bizarre ideas.

“As far as I can recall… I claimed his main turn-on was watching the girl doing her business…”

“You mean doing the business? Like… pleasing… herself?” I ask back since don’t want to believe what I heard.

“I said doing her business… on the toilet…” she repeats with a miserably groan, reddening and avoiding my gaze.

“Judy… you know I’m always ready to defend you from anything or anybody but… it’s no wonder Stone attacked you again.”

“No wonder? He deserved it! After all that bitching…”

“He deserved it? Helping hand, of course… you basically humiliated him in front of a girl!” I scold her trying to keep a serious face, which is not easy at all.

“Do you think I went too far?” she asks innocently with sincere concern. For a second, she turns back into the ten-year-old version of herself who was scared of everything and everyone and it costs me a lot of restraint not to hug her. “Anyway… thinking back… it was so funny, you should have seen the girl’s face.”

I admit, this is the most hilarious shit I’ve heard in the last few years and Stone does deserve some payback from time to time but I don’t want to confirm her behavior. I’m sticking on my plan about getting them to make up or at least to normalize their relationship.

“Judy…” I begin with a deep sigh “Most guys are very sensitive as for their masculinity and sexual abilities, even if they are not typical machos. When they are joking about themselves – that’s okay, a guy with a healthy amount of self-irony is usually considered funny or even attractive. If another guy teases them with sexual topics – they just fire back, with words or their fist. But if it’s a girl who makes fun of their performance – they just freak out, they can’t hit you, they can’t assert they are sex gods either, their only way to defend themselves is attacking back verbally and they try to be at least as rude as you were. Or even ruder.”

“Oh, please, Karrie, I don’t need to be lectured on the psychology of men. He didn’t even know what I said exactly, he wasn’t there of course.”

“But it was you who said he’s smart, he probably figured out the point of it, the chick didn’t seem to be a rocket scientist and she probably didn’t even realize she got in the middle of your death match…”

“Or he was just taking shots in the dark and had luck. Scully was there and Stone was about to torment him so that he would tell him everything word by word… poor dude… So everything will turn out, anyway. By the way, Stone immediately thinking that I’m the potential reason of him being refused by a girl is insulting but also flattering at the same time…”

“Judy, I’ve never denied that it’s pretty difficult to bear Stone’s remarks without saying a word. But getting a taste of his own medicine only gets him fired up all the more, he always wants to have the last word, he’s simply just like that. And if you want to be the quicker one and make his jaw really drop, you have to get your shit together. But to be honest, I’d be happier if you’d keep your quarrels on the level of innocent teasing…”

“It was already everything but innocent in that very moment he heard my name for the first time. It didn’t depend on me, it’s all his fault and he has to face the music at least once his lifetime!” she declares determined.

I better activate plan A as fast as possible before someone gets killed.

***

I can’t wait this terrible day finally come to an end. I just want to take a shower and have some sleep… but I don’t even know how I could get myself to close my eyes, this place is a mess. What if cockroaches come out of their hideouts in the second I turn off the lights? But I’m so tired… what if I asked the driver to open the tour bus for me? Sleeping in the bunk bed sounds definitely safer… but what if he’s already sleeping? I don’t even know his room number and the reception desk was empty too; I don’t feel like looking for the staff in this haunted house. I better start with a shower, it always helps clear my mind. I’m so busy with my own thoughts that I basically bump into Beth in the hallway who’s walking sleepily towards their room; she must be coming from the shower judging from her wet hair.

“Already back here? It wasn’t a long evening…” she mutters in a tired voice.

“I’ve had enough of it. Is everything okay?” I examine her resigned face.

“Yes… uhm… Ed was typing lyrics the whole evening and then he passed out… so I had a shower and I’m about to go to bed too.” she rubs her eyes. “Carefully with the water tap, I almost scalded myself due to that crap. It’s better to wait at least thirty seconds before standing under the water and be careful when you try to change the temperature, there’s not much transition between ice cold and scalding hot, I had to mess around a lot until I could find the optimal level.”

“If I can’t work it out, I’ll just shower with cold water, that wouldn’t be the first time.” I wave.

“Ugh, if you’re a masochist…”

“It’s not the most pleasant thing I can imagine but at least it’s not dangerous either. It can be even refreshing sometimes.”

“Oookay… as you want... And there are no hooks in the shower either, by the way. But no bugs there so far either… Good night!” she pats my shoulder with almost closed eyes and totters to their door.

As I unlock the door of our room, I reach in with one arm to turn on the light and wait for a few seconds before entering; I don’t want to see my little roommates running in the corners. I lift the blanket on my bed only to realize the bedclothes aren’t the cleanest and there’s no towel prepared for the guests. Thank goodness I didn’t listen to Effie when she tried to dissuade me from bringing my own one; she claimed hotels always offer towels and travel-size personal care products… So much for Effie’s assumptions. Of course I also brought my toiletry bag decorated with treble keys and musical notes containing small bottles of shower gel, body lotion, a tiny tube of toothpaste and… due to the foresight of Effie, my “emergency package” now includes also gratuitous amount of condoms that stare at me accusingly every time I unzip it. I decide to leave my clothes in the room since I don’t like when there’s no place where I could arrange them properly, I don’t want my sleeping shirt and boxers to get wet either. There’s no living soul here, no one would see me walking a few meters only wearing a towel…

But when I pull it out of my backpack, I realize there’s one thing I didn’t take into account: I brought a smaller towel to spare place for other clothes. As I wrap it around my body, I have to trick for a while until I can arrange it in a way that it covers both my chest and my backside at the same time. Since it’s not only narrow but also short, I can forget the ordinary method of walking, I can basically only waddle pressing both arms tight to my body without exposing anything. I try to exercise this ridiculous way of moving pacing back and forth between the two sides of the room a few times and I end up sitting back on the bed hesitating if I should dress up again. I’m at a public place, after all. But fuck it, I’m tired, I had tequila and this day can’t get any worse, anyway. I peek out to the hallway to make sure I won’t get unexpected company and I set off to cover the longest twenty meters in my life. In duckwalk. But my bravery pays off, I encounter no one so on entering the shower, I finally allow myself to relax.

I put the toiletry bag on the classroom chair in front of the sinks in the forefront and fish out the shower gel bottle. I leave my glasses on the bag and head towards the innermost compartments. I decide to hang my towel on the wall separating the opposite compartments and after turning on the water, immediately jump backwards to safe distance. Beth’s advice on the adjustment proves to be useful and a few minutes later, I’m already enjoying the pleasant, warm water. Of course I brought my favorite, rough sponge too, it always helps refresh my blood circulation.

I catch myself rubbing my body stronger and stronger as I involuntarily recall tonight’s events. What a prick. Of course he deserved everything, I don’t have to feel ashamed about anything. It was him who looked for trouble. His girlfriend would have felt terrible, if she’d seen that disgusting scene so I did the right thing. His huge ego just can’t accept, this time someone was smarter than him. It’s so pathetic when a man needs this cheap kind of confirmation to feel his masculinity ensured. But come on, Stone Gossard’s name referred in connection with manliness and masculinity is the most ridiculous idea in the world, he’s got the body and mind of a thirteen-year-old.

I turn off the water and spill a few drops of shower gel into my palm but as soon I touch my shoulder with it, I hear a noise. A squeaky noise. A squeaky noise of an opening door. Oh no. No, no, no. The smacking sound of slippers on the tiled floor leaves no doubts that I have a visitor and the lazy, shuffling steps are approaching. I pull in the corner and don’t even dare breathe, I’m shivering but not only of cold, shit, what if it’s a stranger? What if it’s a man? What if I make some noise only with my mere existence? I got trapped here naked and… The sound of steps ceases and the water starts running right in the shower cubicle next to mine. Luckily, the wall is high enough to hide me although I can’t check the other person without revealing my presence either. A few seconds have gone by when humming gets mixed into the sound of water… Oh shit, it’s a male voice. The humming slowly turns into singing and my blood runs cold when I realize: I know this nasal bleat.

“If you didn’t come to party, don’t bother knockin’ on my door…”

#pearl jam fanfiction #fanfiction #PearlJamfanfic #eddie vedder #stone gossard #MikeMcCready #jeff ament #dave abbruzzese

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belladonnaappreciation · 5 years

Text

Blake Belladonna and Myself.

Here’s the thing. I’m gonna tell you a bit about some semi dark times in my life. So, Trigger warnings are applied here for those that suffer or have suffered from Physical, Mental, Emotional, and Sexual abuse from a partner or parental figure. And hopefully that will shed some light on what I am going to say about my connection to my favorite RWBY character. Blake Belladonna.

When I was about two years old my parents divorced. My mother had met this man by the name of Robert Domin. They got married and as a two year old I was excited to have a dad again. Seeing as my actual dad was not allowed to see me at the time due to my mothers manipulative tactics and managing to get a stronger custody hold on us than she should have. So this man, Robert Domin, He seemed like the greatest father figure alive. I looked up to this man until I was about 5 years old. That man went from what I thought was a blessing..... to a wolf in sheeps clothing. My mother often had to work a tad later than he did. She worked at a bank and actually did an amazing job. So she was often stuck working later. Rob would get my brother in the shower and when he got out I was next. He would wait until he heard the water running, since we were 5 and 6 we had to leave the door open just in case something happened there was no chance of it being locked, after I had began getting in the shower he would creep into the room without saying anything and approach me. I don’t know the reason..... nor do I think I ever will...... But he would grab me by the arm and proceed to spank me as hard as he could several times. Now, spankings. Not the worst thing. But he would do it until I was unable to sit down without feeling like I had knives in my rear. (Attempted to say that as humorlessly as I could.But feel free to laugh at the other ways I could have said it.) And this went on for the next 4 and a half years. My mother never caught on because I would often hide the pain or just flat out run away to dress myself whenever she was home. Jump ahead to 10 year old me. Despite the traumas left behind by Robert I was excelling at school. I loved books and had actually begun the Harry Potter series.

I thoroughly enjoyed the series! I wanted to grow up to be as sassy as Snape, as Brave as Harry. and as Courageous as Harry. I had good friends and things were..... happy. Aside from the man I still had to come home to after school. Fortunately we moved to Jacksonville, Florida. He decided to divorce my mother because he did not want to move to Florida. I had thought that things were finally going my way. Until I found out my mom had been seeing a man by the name of Douglas Humphrey. Now here’s the trip. Amazing at first. He took us mudding in a big old truck and with a couple of four wheelers! It was awesome! We watched NASCAR together, we went and saw the 3rd spider-man movie in theaters together! But it didn’t last long. I had broken my foot while playing around with my brother but he had told me it wasn’t broken. To walk it off. My mother wanted me to go to the hospital but he wouldn’t let her take me. When she tried to leave anyways he got scary..... I spent 4 DAYS crawling around the house and limping with tears in my eyes at school. I kept telling everybody I was fine at school. But finally my mom had him take me to the hospital because it got to the point where I couldn't even walk on it without crying. The doctors took X-rays and found I had a break in between my big toe and what I call the index toe. I’m sure there’s a name for it but that’s what I call it. The doctors had to do whats called “resetting” because my food had actually partially healed. But it was very much so incorrect. They had to break my foot again. And this time it hurt worse. When I cried, as all kids would, He smacked me upside the head and told me to “Man up”. That was the first time he had hit me. And it.... gave me a feeling of impending doom. I was terrified that he was gonna turn out to be just like Rob. And I can say that I was wrong..... He was worse. Not only did he let his children walk all over us and do whatever they wanted to us. But he would punish my brother and I for retaliating. He would push us, choke us, he even held us while his children would hit us. He would physically abuse our own mother in front of us.He caused my mother and my Aunt to turn on each other..... I had to save my mothers life from my aunt. My brother managed to get her outside and I went and helped my mother up and locked her and myself in the bathroom..... She had a broken nose.... several cuts and gashes all over her face. Our living room was a literal bloody crime scene. It looked like somebody DIED in there. I had to lie to child protective services. I HAD TO DENY MYSELF AN ESCAPE FROM AN ABUSIVE ENVIRONMENT. Because if I had left.... I’m pretty sure he would have killed my mother.... I was thankfully removed from that situation and sent to live with my grandmother back home in Illinois. Then proceed the best years of my life. I finally met my best friend. Was the guy that a lot of people avoided. But those who did interact with me either loved me or hated me. And.... I felt normal. I FELT SAFE for once in my life.

Fast forward to age 19. I’ll keep this one a bit shorter. I was in a semi-broken home living with my mother once again. Except there wasn’t any man trying to hit me. Or abuse me. A guy who was a bit of an ass hole but relatively harmless none the less was there instead. I had two baby sisters who I love so very much and are my best friends to this day. My mother and I got into a fight about money and she kicked me out. I wound up living on the streets. I thankfully had a job. But would constantly be found couch surfing or sleeping either inside a McDonald, which I had to buy something every couple hours to not be kicked out, or I would be sleeping under a highway bridge near my job. I met a guy who was really sweet. He said he wanted to fix the injustices that had been done to me. Just to clarify I am Bi-sexual. But I avoid men romantically for reasons you are about to learn. He sought to right the wrongs and love me for me. He wanted to help me heal. My traumas. My scars. My past. He made me feel..... whole. To this day I can’t recall his last name. But his first name haunts me. ad I hadn’t realized just how much until I met a particular character in RWBY.

ADAM. The fall of beacon hurt. But the part that hurt the most wasn’t Ruby losing two friends. It wasn’t Penny. It wasn’t Pyrrah. It was Adam. Fucking. Taurus. I couldn’t recall previous mentions of his name from earlier in the show. But Blake catching sight of him as he butchered Yang at the end of Volume 3. The terror in Blake's eyes struck a very personal chord with me. I have seen Adam after he and I have gone our separate ways..... and it truly is that terrifying.

My heart sank. You could hear the despair filling her soul. And it hurt me. My anxiety was at a high and honestly..... Hearing her say his name..... Adam... It terrified me. Adam Taurus represented everything I HATED about my Adam. The lies.... manipulation..... the mental and emotional abuse. Admittedly I had written Blake off as the stereo typical moody, edgy, goth teen character. Because I had neglected to watch trailers for anyone except Ruby. I was certain Ruby Rose was going to be my favorite because she was fun and exciting and bad ass. But I would only be proven wrong in time.

Come Volume 6. Learning more about Blake’s past and her struggle with Adam. Her demons haunting her constantly. We all know why she ran. And why she feels the need to take on Adam alone. But you can see during their whole fight. She not fighting to beat him. She is NOT fighting to best her abuser. She is fighting to SURVIVE against someone she knows she could not beat on her own. But she still feels as though she HAS to try. Because this is HER battle. This is HER demon. She does not even register the idea of asking Yang for help. And this.... also hit home very hard. I have been struggling with my demons for years. Not letting anyone in to understand them. Until I met my current group of friends. one of which is here on tumblr. And she helped me realize why I love Blake so much. ( @songbirdforever ) Blake realizing she could let people in and help her with this fight.... It helped me open up more to the people I care about.

Much like when Blake is able to set her fears aside and show a resolve unlike anything she has put forward with Yang being there. She gains the will to fight her demon. Yang, her friend, being there. Even though Blake did not tell her she needed her. And that Blake did not WANT her to be there out of fear of Yang getting hurt. She didn’t have a choice. She knew Yang would never leave her until she knew she was safe.

Blake's Demon had already lashed out and maimed a loved one (Yang) once already. And seeing that same loved one face her demons with a resolve that she could not bring to muster up herself gave her a reason to stand firm. To stay her ground and tell him that she is not afraid anymore. Together. Blake and Yang kill Adam. Almost in mental synchronization they know what each other needs to succeed. This is a bond forged in fires that were kept by the demons of the past and fueled by scars.

This is why I love her so much. She has not only shown me that it’s okay to not be able to fight your demons on your own. That sometimes you lose the struggle and cave.... But whether you know it or not.... someone sees your struggle. And there is going to be that one person that will always be there for you whether you want them to be or not. In your darkest hour the person you need will find their way to you and help you fight these battles. The victim turned victor.

She has found someone she can confide in.... and someone who can help her heal. And it makes me so happy. In conclusion.... Blake's demons and my demons share a scary amount of beats. Including the point of us both being mentally and emotionally tortured by a man named Adam. A man who promised us safety and love. A man who betrayed us and only when we were all but destroyed did we manage to escape.

She found her Happiness. And I hope to one day be in the same light that she is. Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this. I hope this explains why I have absolutely nothing but love for Blake Belladonna and can even see myself in her. As well as my undying support for the bees. This post is.... a lot more personal than I ever thought I would have gotten on this sight. But I couldn’t fully express my love and identification of this character without telling you what I have. And if any of you ever need an ear... I am always here to listen. I love you all. And I want you all to know you have a friend in me. Now I end this post with a question: Is there a character in the world of remnant that you find yourself identifying with? Why? BONUS BLEP:

#RWBY #rwby7 #rwby spoilers #blakebelladonna belladonnaappreciation ifuckinglovethischaractersomuchyoudontevenknow #belladonnaappreciation #blep bumblb bumblebee thebees iloveyouall

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11/28/2020 DAB Transcript

Daniel 5:1-31, 2 Peter 2:1-22, Psalms 119:113-128, Proverbs 28:19-20

Today is the 28th day of November welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I’m Brian it is great to be here with you today as we bring another one of our weeks together to a close and then make the final push through the end of this month and into the next month, which is the last month of the year. But we’re here and we’re here now and our next step forward will lead us back into the book of Daniel. We’re reading from the New International Version this week. Daniel chapter 5.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word and once again we find ourselves closing down a week and looking forward. And once again in that practice, looking back, looking forward and being right here where we are, we get a glimpse of this thread of redemption that has always been a part of our story. You have always been here, and You are at work in our lives. Sometimes we want You to be at work in our lives and want some sort of instantaneous thing to happen when Your work in our lives is the work of transformation, of remaking us, of sanctifying us. And this is a process that takes place over time. And, so, we find ourselves at little places that mark time, like the end of a week or the beginning of a week and we take the time to acknowledge this, that things are happening. When we look back to the beginning of the year and we zoom forward until this present moment things are happening, You are at work in our lives. This is how it works. And, so, we open our hearts and say continue the work. Continue the good work that You have begun in us. Transform us so that our will, aligns with Your will, so that our desires are things that You desire. And, so, often when we say things like that it's about big things that we’re fighting, maybe lust, or greed, or envy, or whatever we’re fighting, but to have our desires be aligned with Your desires is that we look through the eyes of love at everyone that we encounter. Come Holy Spirit, help us to be Your image bearers on this earth we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base, it is the website, it’s where you find out what's going on around here.

And it's…I guess its officially Christmas time around here, the holiday shopping season, all of the stuff that goes into…into the season itself is upon us. And, so, it's the same here. I mentioned yesterday the Daily Audio Bible Shop is definitely full of items for the journey that we are on and there’s wonderful items there to give away and there’s wonderful items there to hold onto for yourself. And normally we have a Christmas box but with Covid and everything this year we decided it's better that we don't try to do that because it wasn't clear we could do it excellently. But we have the Daily Audio Bible ornament, the Christmas ornament that we make each year with the words of the year on in the year that it represents, and we’ve been doing that for a bunch years now and we didn’t want to not have that. So, we do. And it's just, make your own Christmas box this year. If you spend $40 or more in the Daily Audio Bible Shop, we will send you the 2020 Christmas ornament along with your order. So, check that out. That is going on right now while supplies last.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible in this season you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There’s a link on the homepage. If you’re using the app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner, or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement 877-942-4253 is number to dial or just hit the Hotline button in the app, it’s the little red button up at the top and you can share from there no matter where you are in the world.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Good morning everyone from Budapest this is John, John in Budapest and the many of the longtime listeners will know me as Paul in Barcelona. I know we all have our fun nick names and mine is rather boring, but Paul in Barcelona has moved to Budapest and taken his middle name of John as his nickname. So, I’m John and Budapest now. Okay? And doing quite well with my Hungarian by the way. So, you know, also if anyone wants to follow me on Facebook look for John Ransom in Budapest. So, John Ransom. So anyway, that’s not the cause of this message, the cause of this message is to just ask for special prayer for both Brian and Jill but also the entire staff during these very frenetic holiday season days. And I also want to kinda do a shout out for someone many of the new listeners will not know – SJ, SarahJane in Colorado in the DAB warehouse. And they’re gonna be going through just craziness starting from now. And, so, I just want us all to lift them up in prayer, you know, that they would have all the resources they need. They’re shipping out all those goodies to all of us and…but they’re…it’s not just what they do, it’s who they are. And they’re just pillars of the DAB from the very beginning. SJ has, you know, was in the UK, formerly organized some of the first European meetings. I could go on and on. So, we just pray for you. I also want to give a shout out to Victoria Soldier. Victoria I was praying for you this morning as I had breakfast with Abba and I just love your sweet spirit and your powerful prayers. Blind Tony and so so many others I send you much love and it’s a pleasure to be on the pod waves again with you. God bless.

Hey this is the Prodigal calling in. Just listened to the pain and the heartbreak of Terry the trucker. He’s back out in his truck again because of this plague and I just beg God to let the devil take his foot off…off Terry’s neck and give him some peace, he and his wife. They’ve been together 32 years, a lot longer than me and mine. And he needs some comfort. And only you Holy Spirit and the Lord Jesus Christ can give him that comfort. So, please God I beg that You…sorry I just worked out…You give him some peace, some release, some grace. Shine Your light on him. Let him rise up and get back in with his wife and with all the losses and everything lead as normal life as possible. We’re all challenged, we’re all plagued. It’s part of the human condition these days and it doesn’t look like it’s gonna get better for a while. So, please just…I beg You’d help everybody who calls in with cancer and MS and divorces and loneliness and depression. Unfortunately, I’ve had all those simultaneously and it sucks. So, Terry I know how you feel brother and it broke my heart dude. So, I’m praying for you. Always love to hear your calls. And you keep on drivin’ keep on truckin’ brother and God’s there with you. He’s riddin’ with you in the truck. He’ll heal ya. He’ll help ya. He’ll lift you up. Praying. And only …

This is I am Blessed from Canada and I don’t call in very often, but God is prompting me so often to call in and I don’t know why I don’t. So, in the midst of doing my dishes right now listening to the prayers I thought, “here it comes again. God’s prompting.” And I’m not gonna ignore this time. I just want to let God’s Yellow Flower know that you are in my heart, my thoughts, my prayers. Praying for Keith. Love you and can only imagine how difficult this is. You bring a smile to my face. The talk about the pounding of the concrete. I wonder whether that’s on Cordon Avenue or Pembina Highway or I don’t know I’ve driven by so much construction lately and I think of my other fellow Winnipeggers like Nave. Where you these days? And I’m just so thankful that there is community out there. And I think so often as I drive down, “I wonder if anyone out here is a DABber?” And it’s just such a big part of my life and I just thank you Brian for that. And I thank You Lord for everything for You have done and that You’ve called Brian to do and his faithfulness and for the faithfulness of others that call in. It’s just so valuable. Thank you, Jesus for these people.

Hey there Daily Audio Bible family this is John from Bethlehem Pennsylvania I hope you are doing awesome. I wanted to say first of all happy Thanksgiving to everybody it is Tuesday the 24th November, hard to believe. But happy Thanksgiving. Happy Thanksgiving week. There’s so much to be thankful for. Family if you would be so kind as to keep a couple people in mind for me. We’ve got a good friend her name’s Jill and she’s on our worship team for our church in Easton Pennsylvania and she’s having some complications after having surgery…and…with some infection. If you can keep Jill in mind, that God’s amazing power and healing and mighty touch would be on her for healing and wholeness and health and peace and comfort and bring her through that, I…I’d greatly appreciate it. And then, if you could keep Pastor Randy and Maribel Landis in mind as well, they…they tragically lost…they’re the senior pastors for our church, Life Church here in the Lehigh Valley in Pennsylvania…and they tragically lost their son Randall who’s in his 30s last week. Pastor Randy and Randal, his son were doing mission work in the Dominican and his son got a mosquito bite and tragically died two days later of dengue. So, it’s a tragic time as it is for so, so many. I love you guys and covet your prayers over all these folks in Jesus’ name. Thank you.

Hello, my dear Daily Audio Bible family. How are you? I am so thankful for you for the Hardin family, thankful for technology that we can go through the Bible together in community during this pandemic in this crazy year. I am so thankful for all of you who prayed for our coworker Barb. The surgery to remove the tumor that was behind her ear in her skull was a complete success. They didn’t think that they would get all of the tumor, but they did, 100%. Not only that, her nerves in her face all the things that she was concerned about were totally protected and she has complete use, function of her nerves. Thank you, Lord we are so grateful. Today Brian read the passage about spouses with…well…with Christians with unbelieving spouses. I want to pray for some of those people. Lord, I want to lift up Radiant Rachel to You and Joe and all of the people in our Daily Audio Bible community who love You and seek You, who worship You and whose spouses are not walking with You. Father, I just pray that You would do mighty work through these brothers and sisters of ours, that You would help them to be Jesus to their spouses and that You would be convicting the hearts of their unbelieving spouses so that they would see Your love and their sin and their need to…need to bend the knee before Your Father. Also, for our friends who are in that same boat Lord, please just touch the hearts of the spouses. Happy Thanksgiving Daily Audio Bible. Talk to you later. We love you.

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