#like it literally took an emergency room visit to convince my mom to let me drop out and even then I had to spend months playing catch up b

[nappingpaperclip]

does anyone else feel like they’ve never been not stressed out??

like idk…I’ve been chronically stressed since I became conscious. I grew up in an incredibly stressful environment. ever since I moved out I’ve been stressed about school or work or housing or just finding food . There is always something. I’ve never had a break from stress that lasted longer than a day or two. does anyone else relate? what am I supposed to do about this

[jacobbyart]

title: let the gears turn ship: steve harrington/eddie munson tags: dustin hender POV, coming out, carr accidents, fluff. light-hearted, found family words: 2,539 summary: a small vehicular accident was all it took for dustin to figure out why steve harrington has been off his dating game lately.

The pain on Dustin’s arm was more of a dull throbbing now. He was doped up on painkillers, more than what was necessary in his opinion. A broken arm was the least he had suffered in his life, both physical and emotional scars included. He didn’t complain to the nurses though, not after they kindly let him borrow their desk telephone that rang on and on in his ear. He grumbled under his breath when no one answered, and one of the nurses shot him a raised eyebrow.

“Brothers,” Dustin said with a roll of his eyes. “So unpredictable.”

The nurse shook her head and then returned to her paperwork.

Dustin punched in the number again. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon—”

“Thank you for calling Family Video. This is Steve speaking. How may—”

“I need you to pick me up.”

“Hello to you too,” Steve replied in his non-customer service voice. He could practically hear him sharing a look with Robin. Dustin knew the drill by now. It was like clockwork really, except for the fact that Steve was still playing coy around who should be the girl of his dreams if his former relationship with Nancy and his non-relationship with literally every other girl they had come across were anything to go by. Maybe it was a new tactic Steve was trying out. Either way, Dustin is yet to fully understand.

“I need you to come pick me up,” he repeated.

“Winter break has us packed, dude.” There was shuffling on the other side. Dustin could hear Robin in the background. “Thought you were having your new best friend drive you around today?”

“I’m at the hospital, Steve.”

Silence. Then, a flat, “what?”

“I need a ride home.”

“Wha—how—Dustin.” Steve sputtered in the receiver, his voice getting louder and louder that Dustin had to hold the phone away from his ear. “Dustin,” he said again.

“You know I can’t call my mom, Steve. She’ll have a heart attack.”

“What happened?”

“Is that really important right now?”

The same nurse from before cleared her throat. It wasn’t his fault Steve was acting like a blubbering fool. A sense of urgency was more than warranted.

“Where’s Munson?”

“It wasn’t his fault, Steve. The roads were icy and—”

“Where’s Munson, Dustin?”

“He’s here. Emergency room. He needs to stay the night, but he’s not dying or anything.”

Another bout of silence. Has Steve hung up the phone? Even his breathing wasn’t audible anymore.

“You there? Steve?”

“I’m on my way.” Steve hung up the phone.

Dustin thanked the nurses for the telephone with one of his toothy smiles. He skedaddled back to the waiting area and sat on an empty plastic chair nearest the exit.

Spending even a day of his winter break in anything that resembled an institution was a day spent badly. Hospitals especially. He had had far too many visits during his childhood and even during recent years—what with injuries from saving Hawkins and all—that he wasn’t exactly uncomfortable being in one. He was used to them, in fact, but he wasn’t fond of them. There were D&D campaigns to hold and arcades to raid after all. Now with Eddie incapacitated, a lot of their plans were going to be put on hold.

There was a more pressing issue: Steve was going to take in the brunt of the work again, driving around a bunch of kids. Dustin knew he would get away with it. He had Steve’s work schedule, and he can certainly plan around that. Steve was just going to have to sacrifice a few more of his dates.

So Dustin waited. He was already thinking of what to tell his mother and what to say to Steve to convince them both that he was fine and he still deserved to head to the arcade before the break ends.

It took Steve about ten minutes to drive to the hospital, even though Dustin knew for a fact that Family Video was more than ten minutes away. Luckily, Steve didn’t suffer the same fate as Dustin and Eddie, but that was a lecture for another day.

Dustin rose from his seat, expecting Steve to not even enter the building, but their bodies almost clash by the entrance. “Hey, Steve, we gotta go.”

“Stay here.” Steve spared him one glance before he continued to power walk towards the reception desk.

“What—Steve!” Dustin groaned before turning on his heel. Steve was already speaking to the same nurse that seemed to hate Dustin’s guts when he caught up with him. She was Steve’s type, Dustin now realized. He rolled his eyes despite his own furious attempts at getting Steve a date. Now was simply not the time.

“It’s through that hallway,” the nurse told Steve.

Steve murmured a thanks and then sped off in the direction she showed him.

“Dude,” Dustin said as he caught the sleeve of Steve’s jacket. “Where are you going?”

“I told you to wait, Henderson.” Steve didn’t even look at him this time. He pulled his arm free of Dustin’s grip. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, fuck that, Steve. Are you…” Dustin followed him into the narrow corridor he had just come through after his cast was set. “Are you seriously going to berate Eddie for this? It wasn’t his fault. The roads were icy and then there was snow—”

“How about I berate you, see how you like that.”

“You don’t even know what berate means, do you?”

Steve paused and then heaved a sigh. He turned around and grabbed Dustin by the shoulders into a loose one-arm hug. Dustin could hear how fast his heart was beating. “I am glad you’re safe. You just had me worried, alright?”

“It’s just a broken arm. We’ve been through so much worse.”

“I know, I know.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. “I just need to talk to Eddie, okay? A few minutes, tops. I promise I won’t… berate an injured man.” He let go of Dustin then but kept a hand on his shoulder. “And I do know what berate means, thank you very much.”

“You never fail to surprise me, Steve,” Dustin said, deadpan. Then, he shook his head. “I’m coming with.”

“No, you stay here.”

“The doctor’s not gonna let you in. I, on the other hand, know her well.”

Steve raised an eyebrow but let it slide.

“And anyway, I can totally put in a good word for you if that’s your thing—”

“You can totally do nothing.”

“I’m just saying.”

Another pained expression passed Steve’s face. “Just stay here.”

“Yeah, I really don’t trust you, dude.”

“Ouch.” Steve put a hand on his hip. “Fuck you, Henderson.”

“Yeah, whatever, Steve.” Dustin urged Steve with a frantic motion of his free hand towards the emergency room. “I know you don’t like each other but it wasn’t his fault.”

Another sigh. “I know, Dustin. Is he alright?”

“Concussion, I think. And a fractured rib. Maybe two. He might have to stay longer depending on his condition.”

Steve nodded then pushed the door cautiously.

The emergency room was crowded, but not particularly busy. The doctors and nurses inside were taking their leisurely pace getting around the different patients. Claire, the same doctor that saw Eddie and Dustin earlier in the day, was the first to see them. Dustin offered a small wave.

“What can I help you with, Dusty?” Claire asked.

“We just have a few questions to ask Eddie.”

“And who’s this?”

Dustin patted Steve’s stomach and chuckled. “My other babysitter. Not that I need it, then again I have my arm in a cast.”

Claire laughed back. “Don’t take too long. Other patients don’t like it when I play favorites.” She winked.

With a toothy smile, Dustin chanced a look at Steve. His gaze was far away, trained towards Eddie’s wild mop of hair.

Eddie was staring at the ceiling. One of his wrists was in a cast and a few stitches were visible on his cheek, even from afar, though his face was blank. Tired, mostly, but no indication that he was in pain. Then, he spotted Dustin. More importantly, he spotted Steve, and that sent a myriad of emotions over Eddie’s face that Dustin couldn’t comprehend what he could be feeling. Eddie pouted, in the end, his bottom lip jutting out completely and uncharacteristically.

Dustin winced. He knew letting Steve in here was a bad idea. He knew Steve could be over-protective and even a little jealous, whether he meant all those rants from the past or not. Maybe Dustin should’ve reminded Steve that he and Eddie served very different purposes in his life, but that both of them are obliged to drive him places. One of them just needed to be more careful about it than the other.

And he loved them both equally. Even if they did start a hospital brawl that’s gonna end with the three of them getting banned from one of the few medical institutions in Hawkins for life.

Eddie’s mouth was agape when they reached him, only for Steve to calmly draw the curtains around them to a close.

“Harrington,” Eddie called out, but Steve pretended not to hear.

Dustin took his hat off intending to cover his own two eyes as Steve approached Eddie, his hands balled into his fists. His frown deepened and he swallowed as he stood before Eddie raising his unfurled hands over him.

“I can’t look.”

But Dustin did because it was difficult to look away when his first instinct was to separate them both with his entire body. Except Steve didn’t hit Eddie, nor did he give him a good talking to. Instead, he was pulling Eddie’s head close to his stomach, his thumb caressing Eddie’s jaw as his shoulders shook.

“Hey, you’re gonna undo my stitches.”

Dustin stood in shock. “You’re not friends,” was all he could manage to say.

Eddie put a finger to his lips and winked at Dustin, and he was all but convinced he dreamed the entire day. Eddie motioned for Steve to come closer, and he whispered something in his ear Dustin tried his damnedest to decipher, but he was still reeling from the fact Eddie and Steve were hugging. That they were more than acquaintances at all.

When they separated, Steve sniffled. He kept a hand on Eddie’s shoulder as he sat on one of the chairs strewn about their space.

“You guys aren’t friends,” Dustin repeated, this time in a whisper. He sat on the foot of Eddie’s bed and faced them both.

Steve crossed his arms in frustration and Eddie was trying to disguise a smile, but failing spectacularly at it.

“You’re friends?” Dustin said.

“Are you gonna stop gaping like a fish?” Steve asked.

“What the fuck, guys?”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“I was gonna call,” Eddie told Steve. “Promise.”

“Did it not occur to you that Dustin would be asking me for a ride back home?”

“It did but it wasn’t like I could tell him to keep this a secret as if it wasn’t painfully obvious that we got in a car accident.”

“I told you to change your wheels.”

“And I will now! I swear.”

“No, you are not driving for the next two months at least.”

There was that pout again, and Dustin was sure the gears in his head were finally working.

It wasn’t always that Dustin was the one out of the loop regarding anything. He could even argue that he had never been out of the loop ever his entire life. Especially when it involved his—granted, more unconventional—best friend. It just wasn’t possible for something to go over Dustin’s head where Steve was concerned, because Dustin was the smart one, and Steve was the strong one that got a lot of brain injuries.

So he couldn’t blame himself that it didn’t immediately dawn on him that he could be missing something more at that moment. Sue him for thinking that he and Steve never kept secrets from each other. Hell, when he met Suzie, the first thing Dustin ever did was write Steve a letter and he sent it the very same day.

“So this is why you’ve been so off your game.” Dustin was still whispering, but it was getting harsher and harsher with every word.

“No game if you’re not playing, dude,” Steve replied.

“We were gonna tell you, bud.” At least Eddie had the decency to look sheepish. “We just couldn’t find the right time.”

Steve held a hand up before Dustin could get another word in. “Whatever you need to say, it can wait until we’re in the car.”

Dustin scoffed.

“You will still be getting a ride with Steve, right, Dustin?” The unasked question was clear between the lines.

“I’m not—” He put a stop to his undignified squealing by slapping a hand over his mouth. “I’m not… against this,” he said, low, “I don’t care that you’re both dating guys. It’s just that…”

“What?”

“Each other? That’s so lame.”

“Again, ouch.” Steve finally smiled, one that reached his eyes. He stood and then pointed a cursory glance at Dustin then turned his attention back to Eddie. He placed careful hands on Eddie’s jaw, mindful of the stitches and the bruises, before laying a kiss on top of Eddie’s head.

Once again, Dustin couldn’t look away.

Even when Eddie inclined his head up to capture Steve’s lips. It was gross, like watching his two brothers kiss, and he should really stop thinking about that right now.

“Call me so I can pick you up, okay?”

Eddie nodded.

“Seriously, Eds. Call me or I’ll crash my own car.”

“Jesus Christ. Make sure he doesn’t do that,” Eddie told Dustin.

“Sure, I guess?”

They exit the hospital with no fanfare. Steve didn’t speak to him the entire walk to his car, and Dustin was too wrapped up in his head to form anything coherent, while mobile, while nursing a broken arm in an uncomfortable cast.

“So,” Steve said as they got in. “Got a lot to think about, Henderson?”

“I’m not an asshole, Steve.”

“I know.”

“But Eddie?”

“I thought you liked Eddie.”

“And I thought you didn’t like him, so when—how—”

“Questions later. I’m still not over the fact that you got in a car crash.”

“Fine,” Dustin said. “But if I’d known that you liked guys and had incredibly low standards…”

Steve laughed. “Are you gonna give the same speech to Eddie?”

“Totally, dude.”

“Sorry we didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s fine, Steve. I’m sorry this was forced out of you. Stupid car crash.” Dustin watched as they drove towards the icy roads. Steve stayed below his usual speed. “I guess you’re gonna have to drive me and Eddie around to the arcade now.”

“Fat chance, Henderson. You and Eddie will be staying put till spring. Got that? Or I won’t help you out with Claudia.”

Dustin sighed and mentally said hello to an entire break spent at home. Dustin’s got a lot to think about, alright, but for now, he should really figure out what he was going to say to his mom.

[outerbankies]

new light part 4: underneath the moonlight — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

summary: you and rafe meet the parents (properly) and go to midsummers together, but not everyone is as smitten with your relationship as you two are.

pairing: rafe x kook reader

warnings: drinking, swearing

a/n: say hello to a few characters (tw: ward) i have had yet to feature thus far 🤗 more of y/n being besties with kelce (and topper this time—our fave obx himbo) there’s a lil drama in this part y’all... into the thick of it. thanks for all the feedback 💖not canon rafe

my writing

yeah if you give me just one night, to meet you underneath the moonlight

You’re startled awake by a loud knock on your bedroom door. You’re squished between 6 feet and 3 inches worth of boy and the pink wall your bed is pushed up against. Rafe always insisted on laying on your outer side, closest to the door of your bedroom. Which means you often woke up pressed into the wall, your neck sometimes aching from the awkward angle. Not to mention Wilbur always taking up the space at your feet, Rafe usually nudging him into your space so he could stretch out.

Rafe stirs also, making sleepy noises and stretching his legs where they hang off the end of your bed. He grumbles and smacks his lips together a few times, your hand instinctively coming to rub along his jaw. His eyes flutter open as the sun streams in through your window, illuminating the hint of golden stubble on his chin. You’d only slept over together a few times, since you were both staying with your parents for the summer, so it’s always nice to wake up with your boy in your bed.

Oh fuck. Your boy is in your bed.

Rafe's eyes widen at the same time as yours.

“Oh shit, we fell asleep?” he whispers, head whipping around your room.

“Fuck, you have to hide right now,” you whisper, stumbling through your thoughts sleepily.

Another knock sounds from the door.

You extract yourself from your spot between Rafe and the wall, his hands guiding you by your hips as you tumble over him.

“Just, fuck, just like—get under the covers or something. God, I hope it’s not my dad,” you whisper.

“Me too,” he says, slinking into the gap between your bed and the wall as best he can, covering his face with a pillow.

You check that he’s concealed enough, turning to open the door just the slightest bit. Dylan stands in the crack.

“We have brunch at the Club in an hour, mom wanted me to ask if you invited Rafe,” he peers around you, gaze moving to behind your shoulder. “Or I could just ask him myself. Sup, Rafe?”

“Shut the fuck up, Dyl,” you whisper-shout. “Where are mom and dad? Can he sneak out the back? And don’t lie to me, or I’ll tell them about Hilton Head.”

“God, calm down. Dad’s in the garage and mom’s getting ready. Just have him go now.”

“Thanks,” you say, all but slamming the door in his face. You turn around and press your back against the door, letting out a shaky breath.

The covers rustle, and Rafe springs out of your bed to gather his things while Wilbur watches him. He always starts pouting when he notices that Rafe is putting on his hat or shoes, signs that he’s about to leave.

“We are so dead.”

“You don’t think he’ll say anything, do you? I don’t think I can sit at brunch with your dad in an hour if he knows I slept in your bed last night.”

“Not if he’s smart,” you sigh. “Want me to walk you out?”

“No, I got it. Just keep Willy in here. I’ll text you when I make it out alive. If you don’t hear from me, just assume your father murdered me,” he jokes, leaning down to give you a kiss after he slips his shoes on. “See you back here in an hour?”

“Yes, please be early. And clean shaven.”

“Yes ma’am. And don’t insult me,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Nervous?”

“Not nearly as nervous as I will be if I get caught, sweetheart. Gotta go so I have time to shower—and shave. See you in a bit.”

He gives you one last kiss before he departs, and you move to the window with Wilbur to watch him slink across the backyard, arms crossed and a fond grin on your face. He turns and blows you one last kiss before he disappears around the side of your house.

—

“Y/n, can I speak to you for a second?”

Your dad’s voice comes from his study as you pass by, checking yourself over in the entryway mirror one more time. Rafe should be here any minute.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Come sit,” he says, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. You feel the hair stand up on the back of your neck. Your dad only invited you to talk in his study if it was something serious. The last time he did was when he told you he was going to take away your Range Rover if you didn’t pull your Bs up to As your freshman year of college. You’ve had a 4.0 ever since.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. Just wanted to talk about the new boyfriend.”

“What about him?”

“I always knew of him while the two of you were growing up. But I talked to him a bit back during Dylan’s grad week.”

As an unruly teenager and the rightful heir to his father's business, everyone in the Outer Banks knew about Rafe and his antics. Good or bad. You could even recall your mom gossiping to your dad, words passed on from Rose, about some of his more... notable incidences.

“Y-yeah, he's...” you trail off, searching for the right words to describe Rafe these days.

“Seems like a good kid,” your dad supplies.

“What did you guys talk about?”

“Business, mostly. His future and whatnot.”

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, I just wonder... are you sure about this one? When you were kids, that boy was always causing trouble. And you know your mother and I were always so proud of how you stayed in line.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But Rafe’s not a boy anymore. Just give him a chance.”

“I will,” your dad says, slapping his knees to stand up. “But I'm also gonna give him a hard time.”

“Dad, please.”

“It’s my job. Your mom gets to freak out about Dylan moving out, and I get to handle scaring every man who gets to look at you.”

The doorbell rings.

“Please. I am literally begging.”

Your dad draws a fake halo around his head, and you just roll your eyes.

The morning gets off to an even more embarrassing start as soon as Rafe crosses the threshold into your house. Wilbur jumps into his arms immediately, all ninety pounds of him, and your mom’s eyes widen.

“My goodness, he’s usually so hesitant around strangers!”

Dylan chokes on a laugh, and if you weren’t across the room you’d have elbowed him in the ribs.

“Oh, I’ve walked Wilbur by Tanneyhill before.”

“Yeah, I-I love Willy. Mrs. Y/l/n, it’s so nice to see you again,” Rafe says, effortlessly following your lead after Wilbur scampers out of his hold. He shakes your mom’s hand politely. Your dad sidles up to her then, fixing Rafe with a stare harder than you’d prefer. “Mr. Y/l/n, you as well. Thanks again, to both of you, for inviting me.”

“Good to see you, Rafe,” your dad says, a strong hand clamping onto his shoulder. “Dylan, come say hi.”

Dylan’s grin is devilish, and you're just watching on in pure horror at this point. “How have you been, Rafe? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

—

Rafe’s grinning ear to ear, hand firm on your thigh, all of the windows in his truck rolled down. He even popped the sun roof, letting you blast your playlist all the way down the road.

“Okay—I just... did that go well?”

“You did great, Rafe.”

Despite Dylan's best efforts to embarrass you two, brunch had gone really well. Your dad took a second to let his guard down, unlike your mother who was immediately gushing over him. You could practically see the wheels in her head turning, the wedding colors she'd picked for you. And your dad came around quick enough once Rafe brought up Formula 1.

Your boyfriend looks so relieved, hand even coming to feel the air pass through his fingers as he hangs his arm out the window, hand on your thigh coming back up to steady the wheel. He taps on it excitedly.

“Lowkey, feel like I nailed it, baby.”

“Okay,” you giggle, leaning over to peck his check. You pull him in with a soft hand to the other side of his face. “Let’s not get too big for our britches.”

“Oh, I’m a parent-meeting expert now. Might go into consulting.”

“You’ve perfected the sport?” you joke.

“No, no. That’s—I’ve never actually met parents before,” he admits.

“No way?”

“Way? Have you?” he asks, slight edge seeping into his tone as he pulls up to the stoplight outside of your favorite coffee spot.

“Uh... once. We weren’t even really dating yet, but they came to visit and he like, ambushed me with them at dinner. They were kinda hippies, though.”

“Yeah?” His tone is clipped as he parks his truck.

“Yeah, some guy from my comparative literature class sophomore year,” you sigh. “But, you’re the first to meet my parents.”

“Mm,” he hums, fingers tapping on your knee. That satisfies him. He gathers one of your hands in his. “You coming in?”

“Will you just get me a latte? Kinda wanna call my mom and debrief.”

He laughs, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll give you a minute, sweetheart. Oat milk?”

—

Your original plans to meet the Camerons fell through, a last minute staging emergency arising when you were all supposed to go for dinner. You’d tried not to look down while Rafe attempted in earnest to cheer you up, telling you how pretty you looked while you took out your earrings and let your hair down. He'd kissed the crown of your hair and apologized profusely, promising they would love you when they finally got to meet you.

“M’not upset.”

“Okay.” His hand stroked your back through the thick cotton of one of his old water polo sweatshirts he’d let you borrow for the night.

“I’m just really nervous about meeting them. You might’ve set the bar a little too high with my parents.”

“You just have a great family.”

“I don’t know,” you said when you finally cracked a smile. “Made it pretty far on your first try.”

“Don’t worry. They’re going to love you, sweetheart.”

You let him kiss your cheek, your forehead, your nose and chin.

“Hope so.”

“Know so.”

And Rafe had somehow convinced your father to let you go to Midsummers with his family, promising to join up for pictures and greetings later. Your dad had willingly let him, to your surprise.

The event was a big deal to Figure 8 patriarchs and matriarchs alike, always trying to outdo the other in every way, all while feigning some sense of island camaraderie. But when Rafe had set aside time at brunch to specifically ask your family for their permission to accompany you to the event, they’d been hard pressed to say no. Your family immediately accepted Rafe as your boyfriend, any lingering hesitations about his character drowned out by the equal chances of your personal happiness and the heightening of their social and business profiles.

But he’d still come to your house to pick you up, ready to greet your parents in the foyer once again.

He takes one look at you in that blush pink dress, hair, makeup and jewelry all done up this time around, daisy flower crown in place, and flicks his eyes around his surroundings. Your father and Dylan were nowhere in sight, and your mother was busy fixing her earrings in the hall. He takes to your side immediately, a kiss to the side of your head followed by his lips pressing against your ear. “I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

With the high from those words, you ride in his truck to Midsummers, nerves never dissipating no matter how many reassurances he speaks across the summer air streaming in through the vehicle. “Remember, they’re gonna love you.”

He helps you down from his truck so you can focus on keeping your dress off the ground, assuring you for the fiftieth time that Rose is going to like your headpiece.

“Miss Y/l/n, how lovely to see you again you at last,” Ward sighs, sounding somewhat fond. “Rafe’s been talking my ear off about this, meeting you again even though we’ve already met. Sorry we couldn’t make it work earlier.”

“No worries, Mr. Cameron. Thank you so much for inviting me to tag along with your family at Midsummers. You as well, Mrs. Cameron. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you! And of course,” Rose says, bringing you in for a hug, one you definitely were not expecting.“You’re out in California, aren’t you?”

“Yes, home for the summer.”

“That’s a long way from here,” Ward says. His eyes flicker to Rafe. “Long way from Georgia. Shorter, but still a long way.”

“Dad, c’mon,” Rafe cuts in, and you can feel his hand gripping the back of your dress:

“He’s just stating the obvious, Rafe,” Rose intervenes.

“Yeah, it is far,” you agree. Rafe’s head whips around back to you.

“We’re figuring it out,” he says. To anyone else in the vicinity, he probably sounds confident and self assured. But you know Rafe, and you can look into his eyes and see that he’s not. That if he weren’t in front of his entire family, trying earnestly to impress his father, he’d have said: ‘we’re gonna figure it out, right?’

“I’m sure things will work out the way they’re meant to,” Ward says after a lapse in conversation. “One way or another.”

“Let’s get some photos so we can all enter and the two of you can run off,” Rose says immediately after, giving neither of you the time to say anything else.

You do your best to shake off Ward’s comment as the four of you join up with the Cameron daughters, plus Sarah’s boyfriend, John B. After posing for what felt like hours, the photographer asks you and John B to hop out so they can take some family pictures, the two of you swiping up a couple of Old Fashioneds from the bar. You have to assure Rafe twice that you’ll be okay for ten minutes on your own.

“First time meeting Ward?” Sarah’s boyfriend asks, leaned up against the bar like he owns the place.

“Er—of course not,” you say, like it’s obvious. But of course John B knew nothing about Figure 8 social circles. “Just the first time as Rafe’s girlfriend.”

“Yeah, you look nervous,” he admits, chuckling when your mouth drops open. “It’s not too obvious, I just know because—been in your shoes.”

You should be insulted that the teenager compares his and Sarah’s relationship with yours and Rafe’s, but you know he isn’t being malicious. You see nothing but kindness in his eyes. And it’s nice to have somewhat of a teammate in this situation, the two of you standing by while one of the most powerful families in Kildare poses together in their finest outfits.

Rafe looks hot in his grey suit, especially with the pocket square he’d agonized over for weeks before you gifted him one that was hand sewn from the extra material where your dress had been hemmed. Monogrammed, of course.

You’d decided to go with his initials, since it was going to him after all. But your stomach gets fluttery if you think about the expression on his face when he’d received it, telling you that you should’ve put yours on it instead. “That way everyone will know I’m yours.”

Turning back to John B, you can’t imagine how he must have felt the first time he was invited into all of this. It intimidated even you, and you’re pretty sure John B was friends with the boy who delivered your family’s groceries every week.

“Any tips?”

“You’re way better off than I was, first of all,” he laughs. “But he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one. He cares too much about this appearance of a perfect family to make digs in front of an audience.”

You nod. “That’s actually really good advice, John B.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, kook.” He clinks his glass against yours, promptly throwing the entire drink back as you watch and laugh. “That’s another tip. Drink whenever you can.”

“I’m familiar with that one.”

It's intimidating entering the event, a little after everyone else has arrived. Rafe told you that was by design—the Camerons could never be earlier than fashionably late. You always assumed you and Rafe were raised with similar pedigrees, but you're barely through the doors of the event before you realize that's not entirely true. Up until the last millisecond, Rose is fussing with Sarah and Wheezie's gowns, the older daughter making eye contact with you and rolling her eyes at her step-mother's antics. And Ward brushes Rafe's shoulders off more times than you can count, straightening his bow tie for him repeatedly. Rafe just places his hand on your back, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “You ready?”

You smile up at him, but your nerves are firmly settled in at this point. What you reply isn’t completely true. “Of course.”

—

You take John B’s advice, of course, and choose Kelce as your designated drinking buddy for the night. He was hard to keep up with, but you threw your inhibitions to the wind after you got meeting the Camerons out of the way. Plus, Rafe had more business to attend to than he’d let on, and you were getting pretty bored. Not too long ago he would’ve been right beside the rest of you, causing trouble and borderline embarrassing all of your parents. It was weird to see him walking around, shaking hands and rubbing elbows. He’d invited you into a few conversations, you trying your hardest not to simply watch him in awe.

You’re engaged in some strange dance battle with Kelce when he stacks his drink into yours, both empties at this point. “Your turn to get a round.”

“Boo,” you sigh, throwing your head back. “What d’you want?”

“Surprise me.”

“Aye aye.”

You’re turning on a shaky high heel, and you have to give yourself a little mental pep talk to straighten up. Of course you can, though.

“What can I get you, miss?” the barkeep asks.

“Vodka press, Tito’s, and a Jack and coke. Double Jack. Actually—single. Thanks,” you murmur, trying to fish a ten out of your clutch.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the tip for this one,” a voice says next to you. Ward Cameron is sidling up next to you, sliding a fifty across the counter. Your eyes widen at the tip, trying not to be embarrassed as the bartender sets the drinks down in front of you.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Cameron.”

“Ah, call me Ward.” He flicks his eyes back to the bartender, who quickly pockets the tip and makes himself scarce to give the two of you some privacy. You can’t help but think of John B’s warning: ‘he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one.’ There’s no point in even trying seek out Rafe, you knowing full well you’re expected to stay rooted to the spot until Ward dismisses you. “Having a good time?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “It’s always fun to come back out here for this.”

“So, California to Georgia,” he whistles. “That’s probably a five hour flight, at least.”

“Yeah, um,” you take a minute to make sure your flower crown is perfectly in place. “It’s actually two.”

“Excuse me?”

“Two flights. From his school to mine. Rafe checked, he said there’s nothing direct,” you clarify.

Ward let’s out an indifferent chuckle. “Of course he did.”

Your eyebrow furrows because you don’t know what to say, turning to look at where your drinks are starting to melt. Kelce would be wondering where you are by now if he wasn’t three sheets to the wind. And where the hell was Rafe?

“Y/n, as far as I can tell, you are a nice girl. I just need to make sure we’re on the same page about one thing.”

Your heartbeat that hadn’t really settled since Ward approached you is picking up again, and you really wish Rafe had been the least bit more concerned about where you were at this moment.

“Um, I-I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“I'm don’t know how serious you two are, Y/n, but I know my son. He's clearly very invested in pursuing you.”

Your resolve crumbles a little at that, your heart warming, thinking about Ward noticing something like that.

“But Rafe needs to be committed to finishing this degree so he can come home and start learning the ropes next year. And in four years, Sarah will do the same. Then Louisa after her.”

“Wow, that’s so lucky for you—that they all want to go into the family business,” you praise, not really knowing what else to say. It must be the wrong thing, because Ward just quirks an eyebrow.

“In this family, our business will always come first. Before anything and anyone else. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

You swallow, catching on to where this is going for the first time. You still go for playing dumb.

“Ward, I really don't think I understand.”

“But you do, don't you? You know Rafe. He’s a bit emotional, he’s a ‘feeler,’” Ward says sarcastically, putting it in air quotes. All of the niceties you experienced earlier when you first greeted Rafe’s family were long gone. You can only gather that it was all an act for Rafe’s benefit. But you know the only option is to sit there and take it. “He thinks with his heart, never enough with his head. Sarah, for example—when it’s time for her to cut that pogue lose, which it will be soon enough, I know she will. Whether it’s my decision or her’s. I can count on that, because she’s just like me in that respect; she knows we have to make sacrifices. But Rafe—I don’t think I can make that same assumption about him.”

“Ward, with all due respect, Rafe is really focused on the business.”

“You're correct, and I’ve worked hard to get him there. Which is why I can't have him spending his senior year of college, when he should be buckled down, traveling back and forth from California and getting distracted from his future by some girl.”

“Mr. Cameron, I would never—”

“You know that it’s true. I can tell you’re bright. You come from a great family.” It’s a compliment and an insult all at once. He likes you because of your father’s business and your mother’s social status, not because of what you do for Rafe, or what you have to show for yourself. He continues like it was nothing but the highest praise. “But right now, you are across the country from him, and I can bet he’s determined to make that work, no matter what it takes. Which I obviously can’t have,” Ward sighs. “It’s just not the right time. You can understand that, can't you?”

You nod numbly and pick up your drinks, hoping he’ll get the signal to wrap this up soon. You’re at the point where you can’t listen to this anymore, liquid courage re-flooding your veins.

“I’m not asking you to stay away from him, because you’re both adults,” Ward says, stopping you with a hand on your shoulder. “But I’m asking you to think long and hard about what’s best for the both of you. Rafe already knows what’s expected of him. He’s always known.”

You look back towards the crowd under the gazebo, able to make out John B of all people. He sees you talking to Ward, shooting you the most subtle thumbs up he can muster. He has no idea. You don’t take the chance to nod at him, turning back to the bar.

“Say the two of you let it go for the school year,” Ward bulldozes, taking a step closer to you. “And you end up back here too, great. But even then Rafe’s going to be working all the time, the longest hours he ever will in his life. For the next few years, Y/n. You’re so young—are you really going to tie yourself down to a commitment like that? What about your future?”

In a tone you hope comes across as confident, you say, “I really appreciate your concern, Ward.”

Ward's perfectly white teeth are pulling into an even more perfect grin, and the sight makes you sick.

“Great. I'm glad we had this talk.” He pats you on the back, leaving first before you get the chance to.

You just shuffle through the crowd numbly, not even reacting when someone steps on your toe, taking it all in stride as you seek the comfort of your friends once again.

You were foolish to think Ward would warm up to you immediately, or at all. You had been way too confident in yourself, especially after witnessing the wear working for his father had on Rafe. ‘He’s not an easy man to please.’ How could you be so naive, thinking you could coast by on your charm?

You’re a few feet away when you notice that Topper had joined up with Kelce again, as had your boyfriend. He’s joking with them, amused at the way Topper is clearly almost done tolerating Kelce’s drunken antics, but you stand and watch for a bit as he scans the crowd, gaze flickering toward the bar you’d just been at. You realize he’s looking for you when he finally spots you, his face relaxing as the two of you make eye contact.

“There you are.” He pulls you in close, kissing your forehead. You want to cry. “Where’d you run off to? One of those for me?”

He’s gesturing to the drinks you’re holding, reaching for the darker of the two. But Kelce is swooping in, snatching it out of your hold quickly. “Nope,” he pops the ‘p.’ “This one’s all mine. Sorry Cameron. Thanks Y/n/n.”

Rafe just rolls his eyes at the two of you, eyes lingering on your face when he notices your fallen expression. He sets your other drink down on the high top table you’re all standing next to, pulling you in by your hips. “You okay?”

If you had a choice right now, about how to proceed with telling or not telling Rafe about what had just happened, your instincts compel you to bypass the decision process altogether; you paint a careful smile on your face, shaking your head slightly. “Yeah, all good. Just zoned out for a sec.”

He isn’t convinced. “Tired?”

“Maybe a little. Kinda drunk. Are we leaving soon?” you ask, melting into him. It’s a lot easier to handle his tone of voice when you don’t have to look him directly in the eye.

“I vote yes,” Topper says, gesturing towards Kelce, who is somehow sucking down his new drink at an alarming pace while continuing to dance to the oldies tunes they play at these things. “Like, right now. Rafe, you’re hanging back right?”

You look back up at your boyfriend in confusion. “You’re not coming with us?”

He bite his lip in contemplation, looking around the party. The twinkly lights reflect off of his pupils, making him look starry-eyed as he surveys the crowd. A sea of opportunities to prove himself to his father. Rafe looks resolved when he turns back to you.

“Well... I was gonna stay, wrap up some stuff,” he explains. His eyes flicker across your face, still not pleased with your expression. “But that’s okay, I’m good to go now.”

“No, Rafe,” you say immediately. You take a deep breath, rolling back your shoulders and painting on a smile that comes easily with years of experience at parties like this. “Stay, I’ll go ahead. How long will you be?”

“An hour, tops. Will you take her?” Rafe looks hesitant, still taking your green light anyway, already slowly extracting himself from your hold, Topper rolling his eyes but nodding and beginning to corral Kelce toward the exit.

“I can’t believe you’re making me babysit two of them.”

“Don’t let her drink too much.”

“Hey,” you protest, pushing him in his chest half heartedly. The push barely does anything, only proving your impaired motor skills further. Or that you're dating a tree. “What are you, a cop?”

“I’m your boyfriend, actually.”

“Really? When did that happen?” you decide to play along, picking up your drink again.

“‘Bout a month ago, Y/l/n,” he says softly. He can see right through you, can tell you're putting on a show for all of your friends but you're still not okay. You have to break eye contact.

“Hmm, for some reason I thought you were just this guy from middle school.”

“At least this time nobody spilled on your dress,” he teases half-heartedly, and the memory only hurts you more. “Not sure I’d wanna sacrifice this one.”

“Can you—you guys are the worst. Focus. We need to go now, before Kelce gets his entire family blacklisted from the club. You coming or not, Y/n/n?” Topper begs.

You’re nodding, leaning up to give Rafe one last kiss before you leave. He holds you close to him with a firm hand on your back, voice dropping to a whisper right next to your ear. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

The lump in your throat is growing, but you push through, lowering yourself back down to your feet as soon as you can. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Focus on the rest of your night.”

Rafe still looks unsure, his hand resting on the nape of your neck as he kisses your forehead. “Y/n—”

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” you finally admit. Rafe nods curtly, can tell you’re not going to let him leave with you right now. But he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know that if you pull him away from his responsibilities right after that talk you had with Ward, it’s going to spell disaster for the two of you.

“Just some business stuff, alright?” he assures you. “I’ll see you soon. Forty-five minutes.”

“Promise?” you murmur, fiddling with his pocket square. He smiles down at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Promise. You look so pretty. Half an hour. Now go.”

Topper’s guiding you towards the parking lot with a polite hand on your back, but you have to watch Rafe as you leave. You watch him approach his dad, who gives him a smile and a pat on the back. Rafe preens under his gaze.

But Ward must have been watching you two from afar because his gaze is flickering back to you, and he fixes you with a hard stare. He raises his eyebrows, bringing his drink to his lips. Taking a leisurely sip, hint of a smirk on his face. You can practically hear his thoughts: ‘Rafe chose to stay here with me, with the business, and sent you off with his friends.’ It’s everything in you to not let the tears that have been building on your waterline spill over. But your friend isn’t easily fooled.

“Y’alright, Y/n?” Topper says from beside you, trusting Kelce enough to walk on his own as you all near the parking lot. He moves to follow your gaze but you stop him, quickening your pace towards his gray Jeep. “Did something happen?”

“Ward Cameron happened.”

———

tags: @moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids

[n0wornever]

Best Friends Who Kiss? - Luke Patterson x Reader

“Can you make one where I’m best friends with Luke and everyone else (But little does Luke know I actually love him, everyone else can see it, but him.) I’ve liked him almost all my life...”

(This is the least amount of dialogue I’ve written in awhile, but with the way that it was requested, this style just felt right. let me know if you hate this style?)

It started out at recess in 2nd grade. She sat on the swings alone when he approached her, sitting in the adjacent seat. She looked up and smiled at him, and he, toothless and all, introduced himself to her.

“I’m Luke.” 

After that, she was there through all of his fights with his mom, all of the ego-driven fights he had with Bobby over creative rights to their band's music, and the heartbreak over girls she barely knew. He was there through for her through all the trauma that came with her dad’s anger issues, her lackluster love life stories, and her frustration stemming from her art and her lack of confidence.

The rest was history. Quite literally after the accident. There was one thing that was for certain, that Y/N’s feelings for Luke stayed the same in life and death. His were a little less clear. After entering the world of 2020, they met Julie and she saw a spark in him that she had missed, even when he was playing with Bobby and the boys.

Luke started playing the guitar and singing back up vocals for Julie with the band, and the fire in his eyes was rekindled. Sometimes she sat in on rehearsals, but most of the time Luke was so preoccupied he didn’t even really speak to her the entire time she was there.

She started leaving a little earlier every day before rehearsal ended, making her way back to the park where they met in hopes that he’d join her. He never did, but she’d sit in the swing for a while and think about him and different moments between them.

Like the time when they were 11 and they were riding bikes when Luke fell and broke his arm in two places. She remembered him pointing to her in the emergency room and demanding that she was in the room with him, otherwise, he wouldn’t go in. He got his way and she sat next to him for hours during the stay.

Or when they were 14 and Luke had his first real date that ended in disaster. He showed up on her front porch that night because he just “wanted to hear her voice” and tell her all about the tragic events. That was the night that he told her that he didn’t think anyone would ever get him the way she did. She remembered her heart fluttering at those words.

Nothing ever happened between them though, and she was convinced now that even when her emotions got the best of her, Luke’s feelings were always platonic. She watched him sway and sing with Julie with this look of admiration she hadn’t ever seen before. Their voices and energies blending so seamlessly. Julie was so kind she couldn’t even find it in her heart to get angry at her. After they visited the nightclub the day of Julie’s performance she was certain that she had to make a decision. Caleb had an offer that wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be better than wallowing in self-pity every single day and masquerading as a part of a group that didn’t even recognize when she left. 

She knew the boys could fight it, but she wasn’t even sure she wanted to at this point. So tonight, she was going to do it. She was going to meet up with Caleb and accept his offer.

She grabbed her coat that was left behind in the garage when she saw one of Luke’s old flannels spread out on the couch. She grabbed it, placing it over her body before putting on her jacket. She looked around the room once more before poofing out the of the room.

The boys reentered the space after a late-night exploring, hyped on adrenaline. He spun around, looking for a nightlight or a slight lull of music that would let him know that Y/N was home. When he saw neither he began to pace around the room.

Alex stopped him in his tracks, looking at him with wide eyes “Woah, Luke chill what is going on?”

He looked up at his friend with tears raising in his eyes “Where is Y/N, you don’t think she went back to talk to Caleb, do you?”

Alex shook his head, squeezing his bandmate’s shoulders “Breath, we have no clue if that’s where she went, let’s not go all doomsday before we think about our options.

Luke nodded, trying to swallow with the knot in his throat. “She loves the beach…but it scares her to be alone there at night, even as a ghost.” He thought about it some more “She loves that record shop on 3rd…but she….wait.”

He stopped and looked at all of his friends in the dim light that sent a spotlight into the center of the room. “You guys stay here, I think I know where she is.” He left the room in a snap, transporting himself to a familiar swingset. There she sat on the swing, twirling the chains above her until she let them go and spun around quickly. A light smile fell onto her face but fell quickly as she landed at a standstill.

He was slow in his movements, inching quietly into the woodchips and sitting down without making a sound. She heard the jingling of the chains next to her and looked over panicked.

“Hey,” he said quietly, watching her face settle as her eyes met his

“Hi,” She gave him a weak smile before diverting her gaze to the stars. 

“Please tell me that you’re here nostalgia's sake and not because you’re thinking about what I think you are…” He started, pumping his legs back and forth to bring himself into the air.

“I…I don’t know.” 

He slowed, slamming his feet to the ground before facing her “You’re really just going to up and leave me, after all these years? You didn’t think I deserved an explanation? At least a goodbye? Y/N, I thought we knew each other better than that”

She sighed, leaning against the cold metal as she let tears softly fall down her cheeks. She finally makes eye contact with him again, shaking her head at him.

“Like you’d even notice I was gone, Luke.”

He was silent.

“Don’t get me wrong, I really like Julie and I think that she has made you a better musician… but you’ve replaced me and don’t even try to deny it. Reggie and Alex even forget that I live in the garage too half of the time. I’m like a ghost among ghosts, who even knew that was possible?!” 

Her eyes fixed on the ground below her, she wanted to hear what he had to say. As he took a breath in, she shrunk a bit waiting for the worst.

“I….had no idea that you felt that way. I am, such an idiot. I haven’t even bothered to check in on you recently. Y/N I am so sorry.” She could hear his voice breaking and didn’t even need to look up to know that he was crying.

“It’s okay.”

He scoffed “Obviously it’s not fine when my best friend decides that disappearing into the night is a better option than being around me.”

She looked back up at him, shaking her head “That’s not what I meant Luke.” He stood up and walked over to her swing, standing in front of her. He leaned forward, inches away from her face. She felt her heart race at the proximity and the look in his eyes.

“Remember that night that I told you that you’re the only one who gets me?” She nodded, holding his gaze. “I meant that.”

She let the left side of her mouth raise a bit into a half-smile. Looking into his glossy eyes she got lost in so many times before, she didn’t know what to say. He didn’t wait for her to respond before continuing “I’m sorry I made you feel less than the most important person in my life because you are.”

She tried to speak but stopped her “Let me finish,” She nodded, letting him go on.

“I care about you so much, Y/N, and the fact that you even had to consider if that was true…it…” His voice shook a little as he took a breath in “It hurts a lot more than I could have ever expected.”

He got down on both knees in front of her to get at eye level. She bit down on her bottom lip as she looked at him, backlit by the moonlight and the street-lamps.

“I love you, Y/N.” 

She wiped her tears onto her sleeve before responding “I love you too, Luke” He grinned at her, grabbing her cheeks into his hands and leaning in to kiss her lips. The kiss was soft and sweet and short, but it was enough to make her feel like it was a summer day on this cold autumn night. When they pulled away, he leaned his forehead against hers.

“Please come home with me, please stay.”

She looked into his eyes, feeling his thumbs rub her cheeks ever so slightly. She nodded. He smiled through his tears, standing up and extended his hand toward her. She took it and rose to meet him. They interlocked their hands and walked the long way home. 

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Tag list: @xplrreylo, @lovesanimals, @anythingandeverythingfandom, @crybabyddl, @oswin05, @joshy-obx, @lukeys-giggle, @bumbleberry-pie @kiss-themoongoodbye, @anythingandeverythingfandoms, @marinettepotterandplagg, @lolychu, @bathtimejish, @dasexydevitt13@musicconversedance ,@txrii, @bestdressedandstressed, @daisiesforlacey​ @carleywhittaker @epikskool

[obsidianfr3sk]

through the aching shell

Hello!!! After a practically two months without posting anything (not because I was feeling down or anything, school was just making me go crazy), I finally finished the thrid part of the shell series I’m writing with my mother and dear friend Dawn ( @honey-hippie-harper​), where we explore the angsty and depressing parts of Hugh and Simon’s relationship, because we’re crazy and we like to make it everyone’s problem. 

The last two parts (which you can find here and here, and should read in that order for you to understand this one) were from Simon’s POV, but this time I decided to take some creative liberties and write it from Hugh’s POV, since this is basically my own birthday present (yeah, people, I’m 18 years old now, I’m so grown up *emoji with cool glasses*) and I have a permit to do whatever I want (? so I decided to write about Adrian starting his criminal life (?), the Council fighting like my mental ilnesses do at 2AM, and how Georgie’s death affected her loved ones, but especially Hugh, since, like Dawn said, we firmly believe they were best friends and he didn’t grieve her in a healthy way:’) 

This ended up being... a lot longer than I expected (literally 67 word pages). And also a lot more depressing. I want to give a pretty important trigger warning for suicidal ideation, especially for the last scenes. Please, if you read, proceed with caution and take care of yourself. 

On other important news (?), I didn’t feel like killing people today, so I took this canon divergence post my moms did of how Callum and Winston survived the arena, and decided they were going to survive. I don’t think it’s super obvious because of how I wrote the scene, but I just wanted to let you know, so you can be happy with me about it. 

And what else? Well, I think that’s it:’) thank, Dawnie, for letting me continue this, I feel honored you let me form part of it skldhfjksdjhskd and I’m tagging @healing-winston-pratt and @the-wee-woo-girl in this, because I know you really like the shell series and want to know what happens next! Thanks to you too for your nice comments, I love you so much, my friends <3 and I hope you love this part too as much as I love writing it.

It wasn't until several minutes passed after he heard Simon going upstairs that Hugh realized he had been sitting on the ground during all this time.

He held onto the kitchen counter and stood up with difficulty. As soon as he saw his own hand, he noticed it had small silver drops all over it, and they reminded him of the coffee sometimes they accidentally spilled when they grabbed their respective cups before heading out of the house.

They also reminded him of blood.

In fact, they were awfully similar to blood.

He passed his sleeve over it to clean it. Not only did that refuse to work, but now he also had a gray stain on his uniform

Fuck.

But before he could come up with something to do about it, Simon started walking downstairs, slower and clumsier than before, while struggling with some heavy object. He stayed completely still for a couple of seconds, deliberating about what he was supposed to do.

Should he go to see what was going on?

Should he go help him?

Should he go and ask him to stay for the last time?

He was fast enough to turn his back on Simon when he showed up on the kitchen door hiding the trail of chrome he had left with his body

During the ten seconds Simon stayed there, staring at him, Hugh kept his eyes on his hands, flatly refusing to look back at him because if he did, he would meet her eyes too.

And he wasn't willing to go through that again in front of Simon.

In front of anyone, really.

He should have never allowed his emotions to come out in such a grotesque and explosive way. He thought he had learned to keep his anger, but the last time he had snapped like that was as recent as Genissa's Clark threat, after he couldn't stand how the rest of the Renegades were looking at the Council—

How they were looking at him.

It had been a slip. A pretty serious slip and that should not have happened again. Much less in the magnitude with which it had just happened a few moments ago, with Simon.

Simon.

Of all people, it had been Simon.

The man who irradiated the the most powerful beam of kindness without even saying a single word. The one who was able to talk people out of their evil ways because he was convinced goodness was a crucial part of human nature and no one was beyond repair. The person he thought about each time the fire of his anger started to emerge in his throat, and whose smile, eyes, and voice were enough for Hugh to be able to control him.

But today it hadn’t.

It hadn't been enough.

Simon hadn't been able to make it better.

The fire had gotten out of his control, and now, there was nothing left but ashes.

Ashes of anger that now was reduced to shame.

When Hugh turned around, Simon was closing the door on his way out.

***

He stayed leaning against the kitchen bar for a good four hours before he received the first message asking him where he was.

It was from Tamaya.

She said they needed to talk.

About what? She didn’t specify. But it was probably about how they left her alone for hours when it was supposed to be just during their lunch break.

While he texted her he would be there in a minute, he couldn’t help but look at his sleeves, and immediately knew, he couldn’t go there wearing those clothes, so he went through the small closet where they kept their clean superhero suits in case they needed to change after a mission or something. When he opened the closet and realized it was empty, he remembered Simon had taken them to the Headquarters, because he thought it was better to keep them there, since it was where they were most of the time.

Hugh clenched his fists and, before he could make a hole through the wall or something, he sighed and decided to take a shower first.

Tamaya would be fine if he disappeared a couple of hours more.

Maybe Tamaya could bring him one…

But Tamaya was in charge of the Headquarters, so she was pretty busy at the moment. Evander would take hours to get there and ask for explanations he didn’t want to give him, and… to be honest, he wasn’t quite sure if he was in the right state of mind to ask Kasumi to do him a favor.

“If Adrian wants to see me—”

Then, he remembered Adrian.

He was still at the hospital with Max. And if his mental clock was correct, he needed to be with his team in exactly an hour so they could start patrolling.

After showering, he put on some civilian clothes and grabbed the keys he had left on the entrance table.

Simon’s keys weren’t there though.

He had taken his own car.

***

Adrian wasn’t at the waiting room like he had said he would, but that didn’t surprise Hugh. No, what actually surprised him was how empty the whole hospital looked. No nurse was attending the front desk, and the few doctors he could see were either running to get to the next patient or whispering something to their coworkers. When he started wandering through the hospital, looking for a familiar face he recognized from the ones who were involved in Max’s case to ask them if he had seen Adrian (and if he could pay a quick visit to Max to kiss him goodnight because he probably wouldn’t be able to go to the hospital again before his bedtime), he noticed a group of nurses consoling a crying one a couple of meters from there.

He didn’t recognize her from anywhere, so he didn’t even bother to ask her anything.

Also… what the hell, he could pay a quick visit to Max without asking for their permission first. He was Captain Chromium, even if he wasn’t wearing his uniform at that moment, but most importantly, he was Max’s dad. He wasn’t going to stay there and wait for them to get their shit together and start doing their job.

After taking the elevator to get to the floor where Max’s room was, he noticed two doctors standing right beside the door, arguing in a low voice. They didn’t even realize Hugh was there until he was right in front of them, about to ask them if they could move to let him enter the room.

One of them interrupted what the other was saying and immediately tried to stop Hugh.

“I’m sorry, sir, you cannot be here, it’s a quarantine—” when she made contact with him, she and the other doctor’s expressions changed completely.

He had seen the same face a thousand times after people realized who they were talking to.

In other circumstances, he would have tried to be nice about it, but at that moment, he didn’t have any energy left to tell them about his intentions.

He needed to kiss Max goodnight. And then, he needed to look for Adrian.

So when he carefully pushed them aside and walked into the room, he didn’t feel any guilt for acting like that.

What he did feel, was his blood freezing the instant his eyes laid on Max’s bed and saw it was completely empty.

The small smile he had just put on his face to greet his kid immediately disappeared.

“Where—”

“Your sons have left this hospital, Mr. Everhart,” the doctor blurted out. “Together.”

But that wasn’t what Hugh was going to ask.

“Doctor— Where’s my husband?”

I need to see my husband.

***

According to what the doctors told him while they took him to one of their offices, Adrian and Max had escaped the hospital forty minutes before Hugh arrived. They knew it had been that way since one of the nurses saw them and tried to stop them, but they somehow made her faint for a couple of minutes, and when she was able to turn on the alarm, they were already gone. The doctors who were in Max’s room when he arrived were the ones who found the note Adrian had left, a note where he assured Max was fine, with his brother, and that the Renegades had nothing to worry about.

But Hugh was worried. He was so worried he couldn’t even yell at the staff for being so negligent and letting a teenager and a kid— two kids, go under their noses. He was so worried, that when Simon barged into the office, also wearing his civilian clothes, he didn’t run to hug him like he had been craving all that time he had to sit down and think about the horrible things that may be happening to his sons in those instants, while he heard the doctors doing their absolute best not to look like complete idiots in front of him and failing miserably; instead, he stayed quiet and let him ask all the questions he wanted to ask, doing his best not to look at him, not even out of the corner of his eye.

The last straw for him was when, by accident, the crying nurse (who apparently worked in the maternity ward) entered, and broke again as soon as she saw them, assuring them that she would never let them get to the roof if she had known their true intentions.

He heard roof and he heard intentions. And he immediately came to the realization, that even though the doctors had told him the whole staff was looking for them everywhere, no one told him if they had already looked for them...

If they had already looked for them outside the building.

After murmuring some words to the nurse, Simon got out of there, running like a crazy man through the hospital, being followed by the two doctors, trying to stop him, so he wouldn’t make a scene in front of the other patients.

And Hugh, who immediately felt uncomfortable as soon as they left him alone with the sobbing woman, stood up and followed the sounds of the doctors' pleas.

He knew where Simon was going.

When he got there, Simon was leaning over the roof, while the doctors stayed under the door frame, with mortified faces.

Seconds later (which felt like hours), he stumbled back from the edge of the roof and sat down on the floor, sighing with relief.

It was more than enough for him to feel able to breathe normally again.

“Mr. Everhart—” the doctor said. “I think you should call your son.”

He agreed and let him know with a nod of his head. Then, he asked something about if they wanted to go to the office again, but Simon answered before him and told the doctor it was fine. Then, his co-worker grabbed him by the arm and told them they were going to give them their space. That time, none of them answered her. So they left without saying anything else.

It wasn’t like it mattered to him anyway. At that moment, the only one he wanted to hear was Simon’s voice.

Simon’s voice yelling at him. Crying. Cursing. It didn’t matter in what tone he was talking as long as he was able to hear him say his name.

Say something.

Anything.

Simon kept his head low but pointed at Hugh’s bracelet.

Call Adrian.

The bracelet rang on the other side of the line, and the more it did, and the more silent Simon stayed, the more Hugh’s worry started to vanish.

The wind took away the ashes of his anger, and let the fire start again.

As soon as Adrian picked up, he put him on speaker.

But he didn’t let him talk.

“Where is he?” he barked through the phone. “Adrian, what have you done?”

Simon slowly stood up, stumbling a little, and Adrian clicked his tongue. “So… you got the note?”

Oh, my—

“Yes, we got the note!” he yelled. “What’s going on? Where’s Max?”

“He’s somewhere safe,” Adrian responded immediately. “Trust me.”

He almost snorted. “Trust you? What does that even—”

Suddenly, Simon grabbed him by the arm and brought the bracelet closer to his face. “Adrian, we do trust you.” And he quickly added: “And we trust Max.”

Trust.

“But this is serious,” Simon continued. “We need to know where he is. You of all people should understand how dangerous it is for him to be alone out in the world.”

“He is not alone,” Adrian argued. “No other prodigies will be at risk, and he’s comfortable and secure, maybe even happy, which is more than we could ever say about putting him back in that quarantine.”

Simon opened his mouth but he couldn’t find any words to say. His grip started to get loose little by little until he let him go completely.

He couldn’t take his eyes away from Simon’s hands.

He wanted to hold them so bad.

“How did you even manage to get him out of the hospital?” Hugh asked Adrian. “Did you find the Vitality Charm?”

“No, Dad. But I— I borrowed one of the hazmat suits from HQ and put Max into it,” he explained. “The barrier protected me from his powers long enough to get him to where we needed to go.”

That was enough for Simon to come back to reality. Just that this time, he just got closer to the bracelet; he didn’t touch him at all. “A hazmat suit? And no one noticed a ten-year-old kid wandering down the corridors in a hazmat suit?” just after saying that sentence, he subtly gasped and groaned. “Invisibility. Right. You know, I forget that he has that one, too.”

For a second, Hugh thought he was talking to him. But when Adrian answered, he knew Simon was not. “You did give it to him, so technically, it’s kind of like you helped him escape.”

“Don’t get smart,” he snapped. “And he didn’t need to escape. He’s not a prisoner!”

“Wasn’t he?”

He didn’t wait for them to answer him. It was a rhetorical question.

Not like Hugh knew how he would answer that question.

“Look, I know you guys love him,” Adrian continued, “but I’m not letting you put him back in that quarantine, end of story. For now, he’s safe where he is until we find a more permanent solution.”

Simon turned away, covering his mouth with his hand, and looking at the sky.

Adrian— Adrian didn’t sound like his usual self.  In fact, if he wanted to be completely honest with himself, the way his son was behaving reminded him a lot of a younger Adrian, who was just a little bit older than Max, entering into what would soon become his teen years, and liked to think all his parents did was making his life a living hell. Like when he asked Hugh to let him go to that Renegades Camp that was supposed to be only for the kids who were living in orphanages funded by the Council, or when he wanted Simon to get him a couple of new sneakers; in both situations, he received no for an answer, and proceeded to make a huge deal out of it, asking them why were they always trying to isolate him from other kids, or if they were poor again and would have to share a piece of bread between the three of them, like when they lived at Simon’s house.

Both of those situations were tantrums that Hugh could let slide. He let Adrian go to the camp that year (after a lot of consideration) and bought him the sneakers he wanted as his birthday present, even getting a little mad at Simon for not getting them when Adrian asked him to since it wasn’t like they didn’t have the money or something.

Even he could understand those situations were… things all kids went through at that age. It was a phase that Adrian outgrew.  

But that— that was not a phase.

That was not even a tantrum.

It was reckless and stupid, and dangerous.

And he was putting Max in danger. He was making Simon as worried as he had never seen him worried before.

And it was something Hugh could not let slide.

Not this time.

“No, Adrian,” Hugh said, “you are going to tell us where he is right this minute, so we can get him back to the hospital and make sure—”

But Adrian knew how to play that game too.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he interrupted. “For now, I’m late for a team meeting. Okay, guys? Love you, bye!”

And he hanged up.

And he didn't give them a chance to tell him they love him too.

But even if he had, Hugh knew he wouldn't say it back.

Just like that morning when they visited Nova at Cragmoor.

Before Hugh could even move, Simon left the roof, leaving him alone with those words echoing inside his head.

Trust me.

Hugh remembered he had trusted her. And, in a way, she had trusted him too.

And that was when everything started going downhill.

***

There was nothing Hugh could do at the hospital anymore. He encountered the doctors that had been informing them about the whole situation, and when he started telling them everything was fine and that they were able to locate their kids, they told them Mr. Westwood had already been there and notified them. They also promised everyone in the hospital was going to keep Max’s condition a secret and assure him no information was going to be leaked to the media to keep him safe. Hugh thanked them, but honestly, it was the least they could do.

When he went to the hospital’s parking lot, he looked for Simon’s car. Since he didn’t find it, he assumed he had gone to Kasumi’s house.

Hugh was going to return to Headquarters. To distract himself.

He entered through one of the back doors, so no one from the patrol units or the janitorial team saw him in his civilian clothes. He was lucky not to walk into someone while going through the corridors, but he didn’t feel safe until he entered his office and closed the door behind him.

And that feeling lasted… five seconds.

Because when he turned on the lights, Tamaya was sitting on top of his desk, with her legs crossed and drumming her fingers against the dark wood.

“Shit, Tamaya, why are you in my office?” he asked her with a hand on his chest.

She didn’t seem a little ashamed when she heard him scream. She didn’t even flinch.

“Shit, Hugh, why are you not in your office?” she asked him back.

She knew he didn’t like when people copied his exact words.

“Get off my desk,” he ordered her while walking towards it and sitting in his swivel leather chair. “You look super creepy waiting for me in the dark. Next time send a text”

Tamaya acted like she didn’t hear him. “I did,” she growled. “I did and you told me you were going to be here in a matter of minutes. What the hell happened there? What the hell was so important it made you think it was appropriate to leave me hanging here?”

Hugh opened one of the drawers (the bigger one) and found his uniform inside a plastic bag. It had a purple sticky note, and in permanent black sharpie, Simon had written his name with his wonderful, horrible calligraphy and drawn small hearts around it.

Hugh turned it into a small ball and threw it in the trash.

“Evander was here,” he reminded her as if she didn’t already know it. “I didn’t leave you hanging.”

“Evander doesn’t count. He’s asleep right now, actually.”

In Headquarters, they had a couple of rooms filled with beds, in case the patrol units needed to rest after a particularly long shift or wanted to take a nap before patrolling. For some reason, Evander liked to rest there, and if no one else was there, he even locked the door so no one was able to come in. Hugh thought it was very selfish of him to do that, but Evander assured him it was actually pretty comfortable (as if that was the problem he had with it) and Simon always told Hugh to let it go since it was something Evander only did after he finished his shift or was about to be up all night, just like the patrol units.

But he wasn’t going to let it go now. He decided that after putting on his uniform, he was going to kick the door down, grab him by the ankles, and throw him out of the bed.

Hugh closed the drawer. “Hey, I’m going to change my clothes, so—”

His lips sealed just as Tamaya put a hand on his shoulder.

Not like “I’m with you”.

More like…

“Move and I’m going to kick your ass.”

Hugh didn’t want to get his ass kicked that day.

“Answer. My. Question.” And she said it again. “What the fuck was so important it made you think it was appropriate to leave me hanging here?”

He tried to think of an excuse not to tell Tamaya the truth.

But, honestly, there wasn’t one. She was going to know all about it sooner or later.

“Max disappeared from the hospital.”

Tamaya let go of his shoulder and gasped. “What?—”

“Don’t worry,” he quickly added, “he’s fine, Adrian took him. Can I change now?” She sighed and then, she nodded. “Thanks. Hold the fort.”

Tamaya walked to the door and locked it, just to make sure no one was going to enter and see Captain Chromium, their boss, just wearing his underwear and trying to get into those tight leggings everyone had told him looked ridiculous since the moment he turned them into a crucial part of his superhero gear (and personality), but he kept wearing and will keep wearing until the day he died.

Hugh was going to hold on to that small piece of dignity he had left as if his life depended on it, because, maybe, just maybe, it kind of did.

So… one way to do it, was to make sure no one entered while he changed his clothes.

Tamaya could stay though. It would be stupid to put on an act of false modesty when Tamaya had seen all of them naked at some point in their lifes. However, the main difference between her and Evander, who had also seen everyone naked, was that Tamaya just remained quiet and closed the door almost as soon as she had opened it, while Evander started screaming so loud, that if they had had neighbors, they would have heard him say he had seen boobies (or a pee-pee, depending on the case) (he also hated the word pee pee thanks to that.)

Tamaya, respectful as she was, kept her eyes fixated on the ceiling. “So that’s why you were dressed up like that,” she mumbled. “I wouldn't change my clothes if my son went missing, either.”

That hadn’t exactly been the line of events, but what Tamaya didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. “How dare you. I have an incredibly good sense of fashion.”

Hugh was wearing a t-shirt, a hoodie, and ratty jeans.

In his defense, he hadn't done laundry that week.

That wasn’t a great defense, but still.

“Yeah, sure,” she scoffed. “When you entered, I thought you were an intruder and was about to get all defensive and shit.”

“Well, you’re not the only one—” he put his civilian clothes in the plastic bag “—When I went to the hospital, no one really recognized me at first either.”

Tamaya slightly smiled and then crossed her arms against her chest. “What do you mean Adrian took him?” she asked.

He stopped what he was doing for a couple of seconds. “I mean that,” he finally said. “He took him. Adrian got Max out of the hospital, took him somewhere else, and refused to tell us where he is.”

“And where’s Adrian now?”

“Patrolling with his team.”

Patrolling with his team.

As if he hadn’t kidnapped his brother and put in danger dozens of prodigies in the process.

As if he hadn’t worried them as if he had done before, because apparently, he was still too young and immature to comprehend that Max’s situation was something neither of them wished for, but at the same time, was a lot more complicated than he thought it was.

As if nothing had happened.

Tamaya stayed in complete silence until he sat down and remembered, he didn’t bring the boots that he wore with the superhero suit.

Great.

Those shoes didn’t even match the leggings.

“And what did you tell him?”

“Nothing. He didn’t give me the chance.”

Maybe if he stayed behind his desk until he finished his responsibilities of the day, no one would notice. And he could always exit through the backdoor.

“That kid. He wasn’t like that— Adrian had never done something like this before. I’m— I’m honestly shocked by his behavior.”

“You tell me.”

But he didn’t want to. Yet. He didn’t want to go to his house.

Not like that.

Not alone.

“What are you going to tell Adrian?”

And Adrian.

Alone, and with Adrian.

“What am I going to tell him?”

Tamaya nodded, and a wave of possible answers flooded his head.

Adrian, you’re in big trouble.

Adrian, you’re grounded for the rest of your life.

Adrian, please tell me where Max is, I’m begging you.

Adrian, grow up.

Adrian, your dad is not coming back for a very long time.

Adrian.

Adrian.

Your mom—

“Nothing.”

Because there is nothing that could be said.

Tamaya raised her eyebrows. “Nothing?” she doubtfully asked.

“Nothing.”

“You can’t say nothing to him,” she objected, incredulous. “That’s just not healthy.”

Hugh pretended he was going through the pages of a document someone had left for him on his desk. As if he could read those tiny letters without his glasses.

As if he couldn’t go years without talking to people.

Or about them.

“Hugh. Hugh, are you lis—”

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Huh?”

When he realized he was rolling his eyes, it was too late to stop. He just kept talking and hoped Tamaya didn’t gouge them out. “You told me before you needed to talk to me,” he explained.

“No, I said we needed to talk,” she corrected him pointing at him with a finger. She was wearing black nail polish.

You see? You remember perfectly.

“Well, in case you were wondering—” he opened the document and started reading it “—I’m listening. What’s the situation?”

Tamaya didn’t have time to react to his words. If she was going to scream, start talking about what she (she, because Hugh didn’t want to), or genuinely gouge his eyes out, no one, probably not even Tamaya herself, would ever know.

A loud banging, stifled voices, and a very familiar yell interrupted them all of the sudden.

“DAD!”

Hugh grasped tightly the pages of the document, while Tamaya grunted loudly and opened the door, her wings extended and bristly.

“WHAT?!”

The loud banging and stifled voices went silent. But the familiar yell didn’t fear Tamaya.

Because he was that reckless.

“Dad.”

Tamaya’s wings relaxed and she moved aside, letting Hugh see Adrian, still in his Renegade uniform, a little bit sweaty and dirty, like every time he came back from patrol. His team was sweaty and dirty too, but none of them had the same expression Adrian’s face had.

He seemed weird. Different.

He would dare to say he looked hopeful.

And the moments where they just stayed staring at each other, probably waiting for the other to make the first move, Hugh couldn’t figure out the reason why.  

***

Innocent.

She was innocent.

According to the Renegades, Nova Jean McLain was innocent.

They came to that resolution an hour and a half later.

When Adrian first told him Nova was innocent, he couldn’t understand what he was talking about, but Tamaya took control of the situation and immediately told Hugh to wake Evander up at the same time she told Adrian’s team to follow her.

Hugh didn’t kick the door down, but he did grab him by the ankles and made him wake up screaming.

Evander walked beside him, wearing a Blacklight t-shirt people sold at Cosmopolis Park and asking him questions about what was going on, but Hugh insisted he waited until the rest of them arrived because it was a delicate situation.

Extremely delicate.

So delicate, Hugh thought it would break like a roof made of glass and the sharp pieces would rain all over their heads, cutting their bodies like a piece of rotten fruit.

At the meeting room, Tamaya was talking to Kasumi over the phone they kept there in case of an emergency, and Adrian was gathered with his team. He was the only one who had bothered to pretend that he wasn’t worried at all because Oscar Silva and Ruby Tucker couldn’t stop throwing glances at each other, and Danna Bell shook her head every once in a while, saying something that sounded like “You’re making a mistake. You all are making a mistake.”

Oddly enough, he hoped she was right. He hoped Adrian and everyone who believed him was just making a mistake, so things wouldn’t get more complicated than they already were.

That was not going to look good for them.

Kasumi and Simon arrived ten minutes after Tamaya hung up the phone. Neither of them were wearing their uniforms or bothering to look at Hugh. Actually, Kasumi walked directly towards Tamaya to apparently ask her something (and Evander followed her because he was Evander), while Simon immediately went over Adrian, turned around the spinning chair he was sitting on, and hugged him, without caring a single bit about embarrassing in front of his team.

Adrian hugged him back. But then, he pulled him away to tell him he knew for a fact Nightmare was not Nova, but instead, Narcissa Cronin, Gene Cronin’s granddaughter.

Simon remained calm, and rubbing Adrian’s arms, told him that was a pretty serious accusation.

“But tell us all about it.”

And Adrian did. He and his team told them all about it.

Mostly him though.

He told them about them encountering Narcissa Cronin and that she explained her evil plans to them, in extreme detail. She planted evidence to make Nova seem guilty because, after the parade, she wanted to get the Renegades off her back, and Nova was the perfect person to incriminate for her crimes. She considered it her revenge against the Renegades for not doing anything when Ingrid Thompson shot the only family she had left, but after hearing a rumor of her execution, she realized she didn’t want Nova to die in the hands of the Renegades.

Not because she cared about her. She just had principles.

Or those were the words Adrian used, that made him question himself if he wanted to see her dead.

Because even when he gave Frostbite— or, Genissa Clark, permission to be the one to execute her, he still didn’t know if he did because he was sure it was the right thing…

Or because he was scared.

Which still— didn’t answer his question.  

Do you really want to see Nova McLain dead?

He wasn’t sure about it.

Tamaya, on the other hand, was.

She didn’t want to see Nova McLain dead.

And apparently, neither did Kasumi and Simon, because as soon as Adrian finished telling his side of the story, they immediately started talking about removing all charges that had been filed against her to get her out of Cragmoor as soon as possible. Evander tried to interrupt them and insisted that maybe they needed to hear the rest of the team (who had barely spoken through the entire conversation), as well as to go to the scene to look for clues. Danna Bell agreed with him and tried to take the word, but Tamaya stated they didn’t need to hear anything else, because the more they stayed there, listening, the more time an innocent girl stayed in prison. When Evander tried to argue again, Tamaya looked at Hugh, silently asking him to support her.

The five members of the Council knew the glass roof they had been standing under for God knows how much time, had shattered completely.  

The least Hugh could do was use his entire body to try to protect them from it.

So he agreed with Tamaya, and said, out loud, that Nova McLain was free of all charges.

Tucker and Silva smiled as soon as they heard him say that, and Bell just sighed. Adrian let out a “Yes!” under his breath and turned around to say, “Thank you.”

Evander just rolled his eyes and started playing with a pencil he found there, but Tamaya and Kasumi smiled at him, and Simon said, “No, Adrian, thank you.”

Before leaving the room with the rest of his team, Adrian cast a glance at Hugh.

But Hugh pretended he didn’t realize until Danna Bell told Adrian to keep going and he obeyed.

***

The Council stayed in the meeting room for a little while, to put all the cards on the table and make sure they understood each of the steps they had to take to get Nova McLain out of Cragmoor. Evander and Hugh were the only ones who didn’t participate in the conversation at all, but while Evander was doing it because he knew anything he had to say was going to be completely ignored and was mad about it, Hugh didn’t do it because he couldn’t take his eyes away from Simon.

Even if Simon wasn’t looking at him at all.

He talked with his hands. A lot. When they were teens, he remembered Simon constantly kept his hands in his pockets, especially when they were in public, so he wouldn’t draw any kind of attention to himself, and only dared to do it when he was at his house or very excited or sad about something. But now that he was an adult, he gesticulated even more, even during the most serious of conversations, with no shame at all. Hugh always had thought it was an adorable quirk of his, and being able to see him grow and embrace that part of himself (and get emotional when Kasumi pointed out Adrian was starting to talk with his hands too) felt like something very personal to him.

Every single thing that had to do with Simon felt so personal to him.

He wasn’t his other half. Hugh had once said that to him, and Simon confessed he found that “compliment” pretty problematic, and he couldn’t help but agree to him.  

Simon was more than that. It was something so much more important, so much, that the way he scratched his beard, raised his eyebrows, and looked at the ceiling to try to remember the word he wanted to say, made him realize how much he missed him already.

He missed him already; and he was right there, inches away from him.

Home.

Simon was his home.

And his house wouldn’t feel like it if he arrived there without him.

So when Tamaya dismissed all of them, he decided to make something about it.

That night, he would go back to his house with Simon— or he was not going back at all.

Adrian was leaning against the wall, waiting for them while playing with his keys. His team was nowhere to be seen, which was completely understandable considering how late  it was. As soon as he saw them walking through the door, he started to walk towards them, almost ignoring how Evander accidentally pushed him while trying to get out of there as soon as possible.

Then, he asked, “Are we going home now?”

And even if he was looking at Hugh when he said that, Hugh, instead of answering him, turned to see Simon. Not only because he knew that if he opened his mouth, the only thing that would come out of it would be… something not very nice about what he thought about Adrian’s behavior over the last hours; but also because, at that point, it all depended on what Simon had to say about it.

Even if he didn’t know it.

Simon.

Are we going home now, Simon?

But instead of answering the question, Simon smiled at him, and rubbing Adrian’s arms, told him, “I think Tamaya’s going to drop you at the house. You could do that, right?”

Tamaya and Kasumi were standing behind them. “Yeah, of course, I can.”

“Are you going to carry me in your arms and take me for a flight?”

“Funny. What about if you carry me, huh?”

“I can.”

“I cannot allow it though. It wouldn’t be very feminist of me.” Adrian laughed at her joke, and she pretended to act all cocky about it, brushing off her shoulders and trying not to smile. “Let’s go. Kasumi—”

“It’s all right. I arrived with Simon, my car’s here.”

Tamaya told her it was all right and then pointed at the elevator to tell Adrian they needed to get going. Both women started walking beside him, being slowly, but closely followed by Simon, letting Hugh standing where he was, probably waiting for him to follow them or—

Or maybe not.

But Hugh didn’t want to follow them.

He just wanted him.

“Simon—”

Adrian didn’t stop; the adults, however, did.

He was so happy, so relieved to see Simon turn around when he called his name, he didn’t even care that Tamaya and Kasumi also did it, with an expression on their faces he couldn’t tell what they meant.

That was enough for him to blur out his question.

“Can we talk?”

Simon slightly opened his mouth, but before saying anything, he turned to see his friends, for a reason Hugh didn’t understand (and didn’t bother to think about it).

Adrian called for the elevator, and realized, everyone was literally just standing there, without moving, and all their eyes were fixated on Simon. “Um… guys?”

Tamaya was the first one to come back to reality. “Wait for me in the car, Adrian, I’ll be there in a minute.”

He didn’t give it too much thought and nodded.

Simon still hadn’t said anything when Adrian left in the elevator. But now that his presence was gone, Hugh felt enough courage and serenity to— beg, he guessed.

“Please. Can we talk?”

Please. Please, please, please—

“Yes,” Simon said. “Yes, we can talk.”

He smiled. Just a little bit. Because Simon didn’t move towards him after he accepted. Instead, he stayed right where he was, as if he was in a line to get something from a store and if he moved, he was going to lose his place and the thing he had been waiting for hours to get.

After waiting for a good ten awkward seconds for Kasumi and Tamaya to keep walking, he realized they had no intention of doing so. And also, he realized that he didn’t want to talk with them either. Not at that moment.

At that moment, the only thing, the only person that mattered, was Simon.

“Could we… maybe go somewhere else more private?” he mumbled while scratching his eyebrow and trying not to make eye contact with any of the girls.

Simon clicked his tongue and glanced at Tamaya and Kasumi. “I’ll be back in a second.”

Or not.

The few instants they were walking towards the meeting room, Hugh looked at Simon’s hands, wondering when it would be the right moment to sneakily touch them, like he did when he was in love with him but still didn’t know it.

But Simon had his hands deep inside his pockets.

The only light that came into the room was the light of the few lightbulbs that illuminated the corridor; they turned off the majority of them during the night, not only because there weren't that many people around, but also to save electricity. Hugh entered first and Simon didn’t completely close the door behind him, only enough for no one to be able to see what they were doing in case some other Renegade was around there and walked past the room.

After that, Simon closed his eyes, grabbed tons of air, and then let it all go with a sigh. When he finally looked him in the eyes, Hugh realized it was the first time he did that after their fight in the kitchen.

And he realized all of that had happened in one day.

What a day. He bet they would remember it for the rest of their lives.

He hoped they wouldn’t. He hoped, and he hoped, even if his rational part told him it was not going to happen because memories didn’t work that way at all, but he kept hoping anyway, and started searching for the correct combination of words he needed for Simon to also forget about that day.

Hugh was willing to ignore everything they had gone through during that day. He would take Simon’s silence, words, and indifference, put it all inside a box, and then throw it at the back of his memories and never be opened again, if Simon was willing to do the same for Hugh’s cries, screams, and feelings.

He was even willing to let Simon stay mad at him for the rest of the night if that was what he needed. Yes, he could handle a night like that. He could be the one to stare at Simon’s back, for Simon to take a break from staring at his almost all the time they got into bed. He would do anything for him.

And he just wanted him to do one thing: to ignore everything that had just happened.

Forever.

While his mind was still trying to come up with how he was going to put all those thoughts into words, he caressed Simon’s cheek to buy himself a couple of extra seconds. But when Simon tensed and clenched his jaw, instead of tilting his head a little bit and putting his own hand over his, like he did every time Hugh touched his face like that, he knew there was nothing he couldn’t let more time go by.

Suddenly, his eyes were fixated on Simon’s lips. The same small, bitten, and dry lips he had contemplated for so many years, they felt like his own, and tasted like peppermint, a little bit of coffee, and sometimes even lavender.

When Simon opened them to speak, Hugh went from having absolutely no clue of what to do, to being absolutely sure of what he needed to do.

So he just did it.

He just placed his lips on top of Simon’s and kissed him.

At first, Simon didn't break the kiss. Instead, he went with the flow and kissed him back, as if he had been craving that kiss for months.

And he probably did. It was just that Hugh, suddenly, didn't.

Like. He thought he had. But now that he was there, with one hand holding Simon's head, and Simon's about to touch his hips, he started to feel like there was something very wrong with that situation.

But he was desperate. He wanted him back. He wanted him back and if that meant kissing him when he didn't feel like it, he was going to do it.

He would do everything for Simon.

He would never give up on him.

He just really wanted him to know that.

And really wanted to know if Simon hadn't given up on him either.

Simon kissed him one last time, raised his hands, put them on Hugh’s chest—

And pushed him away.

He pushed him away so suddenly, he tripped on his own feet and hit his head against the wall.

It didn't hurt though.

Still, the only thing he could answer to that, with Simon staring at him, realization dawning on his face, was a really fake:

“Ouch.”

Suddenly, Simon snapped. “What the fuck was that? Hugh, what the fuck was that?” he insisted. “Did you— do you really think that treating me as if I were a— a fucking animal, you're going to get something from me? Where do you think I have my brain? Huh? Where!?”

Hugh didn't respond. And Simon wasn't taking it. “Where?! Answer me! Where, where, where—”

Simon raised his hands above his head, and started pulling his own hair, hid his face with his arms, and just— broke down.

In a million pieces.

That was enough to make him flinch.

He preferred he pushed him again. Hell, Simon could slap him for kissing him without telling him he was going to do it first, and it would be much better than watching him suffer like that.

“Where, where—” he cried “—Stars, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for pushing you, it was— are you— I'm so sorry, lo—” and let out a loud sob.

Hugh kept gazing at his crying husband for a while.

“Do you really think that low of me?”

And kept pulling his hair. And his face remained hidden. His cries only became louder and louder, and Hugh didn't dare to move, much less to touch him, because even if he wanted with all his might to hold him and grabbed him by the wrists so he didn't continue hurting himself, he knew it would be useless.

Everything was useless.

“Stop that,” he finally dared to say.

He didn't say “No, I don't.”

He didn't say “Of course I don't think badly of you.”

He didn't even say he loved him.

He told him to stop.

Stop what?

“No, you stop!” Simon shrieked. “Stop whatever the hell you're doing, stop it. You're hurting me.”

Hurting.

You're hurting me.

He looked at his hands. Fortunately, they were completely dry and have not a single drop of chromium coming out of them.

But they felt as if they were on fire. And heavy.

Is that how they were supposed to feel when they were hurting someone?

And if they felt this heavy, and this hot, and this horrible, in how much heavy, hot, horrible pain could the other person be?

No, really: in how much?

How could you explain pain to someone who couldn't feel it?

“Why?”

And like an idiot, he asked back, “Why what?”

Simon removed his arms from his face and looked him dead in the eye for what he knew would be the last in time.

“Why do you have to make everything worse, Hugh?”

Hugh didn’t answer his question, and Simon didn’t answer his either.

A question he never got the chance to ask but was at the back of his mind.

Have you given up on me yet?

***

Hugh didn't come out of the meeting room until he was sure no one else was around. Until the elevator had gone and came back four times, and until his head felt so dizzy, he would faint if he didn't sit down.

He looked around, making sure nobody saw him, went to his office, and put a lock in the door. Hugh didn't want anyone to interrupt him. He had a lot of paperwork to do if he wanted to get Nova out of Cragmoor as soon as the sun came out.

***

It wasn’t the first time he had slept at his office. It had never been because he wanted to, but because he absolutely had to. Somedays, he would have so many responsibilities, that his normal working hours were not enough for him to finish them all. It was a little uncomfortable since the desk wasn’t the best place one could sleep on, and sometimes he didn’t have the energy to get up and go to Max’s quarantine room, to at least have the opportunity to sleep on a bed and an excuse to have a little more time with him.

Those nights, when he had to put his head on the desk and use his arms as a pillow, he would wake up and realized someone had put a blanket over his shoulders. And he always knew that someone had been Simon because the blanket smelled a little bit like him.

Even if Max’s quarantine area hadn’t been destroyed and he could go there to sleep, he wouldn’t have done it. Max wouldn’t be there. It wouldn’t be the same with him moving like he was possessed by a demon and kicking him in his sleep.

Which was something also Simon did.

The day Nova was released from prison, Simon stayed at Kasumi’s house. She didn’t comment anything about it and Tamaya had been the one who told him that the reason he didn’t come to work was that he had a headache. Hugh never asked her about it, but she informed him anyways. For some reason, he pretended not to be very concerned about it and just mumbled he hoped he felt better tomorrow.

When he woke up, after his second night of sleeping on his desk, he considered the crazy idea Kasumi and Evander had told him of getting sofas for each one of his offices; idea that he had brushed off because he thought they would only waste space, but now regretted he hadn’t listened to.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have an extra uniform for that day, so he just prayed the one he was wearing was clean enough for nobody to notice he hadn’t changed his clothes that morning, put on a lot of deodorant and cologne to hide the fact he hadn’t showered, and went out through one of the back doors, just to enter again a couple of minutes later through the front door, pretending he had just arrived from home and hadn’t stayed there all night.

As soon as he entered, he told Sampson if he could please notify him when Nova arrived at Headquarters. He didn’t ask for an explanation as to why he wanted that, but accepted anyway, clearly excited for having her back with them.

Hugh wasn’t… excited. Or happy, for that matter. Not that he wasn’t happy that she wasn't locked up anymore— of course he was happy she wasn’t locked up anymore.

What he was feeling reminded him more of when Simon, Evander, and he were playing a game they liked to call “Tag, you’re straight”, that consisted of the three of them throwing balls against a random wall at the same time, and then doing their best to dodge them while pushing the others so they get hit. Then, whoever got hit, would be smacked on the back of his head, and the other two would yell “Tag, you’re straight!”. It was a game he really liked and they kept playing even when they weren’t teens anymore, since in their family, bullying Evander was a great bonding activity, and “Tag, you’re straight” was the perfect opportunity to do so, especially because, as far as everyone knew, Evander was, in fact, straight, so that made everything ten times funnier when he got hit by a ball and got mad about it.

And yes, everything was fun and laughs, until Hugh broke a window, and a very angry Tamaya practically kicked the door down to ask them what the fuck had happened, yelling at the three of them for a good two or five minutes.

Even if Hugh had been the one who broke the window, everyone (even Kasumi, who was in the bathroom when the whole thing happened) helped clean up the mess and got cardboard to cover what now would be considered a hole in the wall, so the cold wind and dust wouldn't get in the house. It seemed like Tamaya had gotten a lot out of her system after yelling at them, because she chuckled at the jokes Evander and Simon made about the situation, saying that Hugh’s new power was turning straight everyone (and everything) he touched and that now the window was “one of them”. Hugh wanted to laugh too, but at the same time, he could only ask himself how she was going to react when she arrived home and realized what he had done.

And of course he wanted her to come home, as he always wanted every time she got out, to make sure she was still safe and sound, and so they could tell each other about their day and what they had done while the other wasn’t around. But now, he was also worried. And ashamed.

It was a combination of happiness, expectation, worry, and shame.

And he didn’t like it one bit.

So when Sampson let him know, after a while, Nova McLain was there, what he really heard, was Simon’s voice telling him she had arrived.

He knew it wasn’t the same person. But it felt pretty similar.

He made sure he didn’t look like a dead body before going to the first floor while making mental notes of what he was going to say to Nova.

Her situation had always been one that was pretty delicate, but now it had taken a new turn. A simple “I’m sorry”, with only those words, wouldn’t be enough for her, because it wouldn’t be enough for him either. He knew how Cragmoor was.

Hugh wanted— needed her to feel as if she belonged to the Renegades. Because, yeah, she did, but he knew that when she was back in her cell, she probably didn’t feel that way, and if he let this one slide, it would become a problem sooner or later.

Probably much more sooner than later.

It wasn’t like he was going to lie to her face or something; he just was going to point in the right direction. For her.

When the elevator doors finally opened, he spotted Nova surrounded by Adrian’s team (but no Adrian in sight). Silva and Tucker were smiling at her and touching her, but Bell, who was used to keep her hands to herself when it came to physical touch, just stayed there, watching her friends greet her without actually participating in the conversation that was happening in front of her. Actually, she was the first one to leave Nova alone after Silva said something about going out to eat (and Hugh could clearly listen to him because Silva didn’t know how to keep his voice down, so when he went to their house, he could hear everything he said to Adrian, even the most embarrassing parts), an invitation Nova rejected, even after they insisted her to got with them. Hugh decided to take that as an opportunity to talk to her.

Nova was a Renegade.

And the Renegades didn’t turn their backs on each other.

The feeling that he had just thought something pretty hypocrite started to creep at the back of his mind, when someone very small bumped against his chest, and before he could mumble a mechanic apology and keep walking, he realized that very small someone was Nova.

He had to think fast.

“Oops, sorry, Nova.”

He could call her Nova, right? Insomnia felt way too formal. And McLain seemed a little bit aggressive. Plus, she was Adrian’s girlfriend— or that was the last thing he had known about the topic. If they had broken up, Hugh would have probably received a memo or something. He didn't have Max or Simon with him to ask them about what they knew about it. They probably would tell him to go ask Adrian directly though, and that was something Hugh was not willing to do because he was still not talking to Adrian.

“Uh… hi,” Nova stammered.

Then, being completely aware he could break her hand’s bones if he grabbed her too hard, gave her a handshake as carefully as he could.

But still solid enough to show her he was being serious.

“I asked Sampson to let me know when you came in. I wanted to be one of the first to welcome you back to the team.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

He released her hand and stopped smiling.

The conversation couldn’t die there. He needed more.  

“And I wanted to offer you a formal apology for this abysmal misunderstanding,” he added. “I’m ashamed to think how we treated you, as one of our own, when your loyalty and dedication has been so unwavering. It’s just…” What was the word? “all this turmoil that’s been going on lately, you know? The parade, Cosmopolis Park, the attack on headquarters, Ace Anarchy… sometimes I feel like we’re jumping through hoops set on fire, and every one of them is a little bit smaller. If we don’t keep ahead of all the threats and dangers, then one of these days, the whole thing will go up in flames.”

That was a good analogy. And he had just come up with that one.

Apparently, Nova thought it had been a good analogy too, because she chuckled and said, “Well, good thing you’re invincible, at least.”

“Yeah, I might be,” he shrugged, “but there are people I care about that don’t have that luxury, and I’m just doing what I can to protect them. I hope you understand that we did what we had to do, given the circumstances.”

The circumstances, he thought.

Nova had people she loved. Adrian had mentioned she had an uncle before, as far as he could remember. She had proved to be pretty passionate about the things she cared about, and he bet that she would do anything to protect the only family she had left.

The circumstances didn’t matter. They never mattered as long as the people one loved were safe.

She would understand.

She had to understand.

And fortunately, she did.

“Of course,” Nova answered, with a smile on her lips.

“Good.” Good. Everything was working out as he wanted to. “Because you are a part of the Renegades family now,” and he added, feeling a little too inspired, “and it’s important to me and all the Council that everyone here feels like they’re being treated fairly.  That they are part of this team.”

You’re a Renegade, Nova.

And the Renegades don’t turn their backs on each other.

And as if Nova had listened to his thoughts, she lifted her chin and said, “I don’t blame you and the Council for what happened. You were given information and you had to act on it. I understand why you did what you did. But—”

Hugh had to use all his might not to growl or roll his eyes as soon as he heard that word.

He couldn’t appear too relieved because something was always going to get in the way.

“—I was surprised by the whole execution thing.”

Me too.

Honestly, me too.

“Yes…” he agreed, “it’s unfortunate that we… Well, I hate to think about what you went through.” Then, just to make sure the point was cleared, he quickly said, “But I am so glad it’s all worked out.”

Isn't it?

“Yes, it worked out for me, thankfully,” she answered, putting a lot of emphasis on “for me”, by slowing her voice “But I have to admit that I’d always wanted to believe the Renegades were, well, above capital punishment. To end someone’s life, giving them no possible chance for restitution, and to do it without even offering a fair trial, it seems—” she frowned and put her index finger in the space between her nose and her lips “—how do I say this? A little villainous.”

As soon as Hugh heard that, he chuckled.

Because telling her to stop talking back to him and go to her room was not an option, and he didn’t know what else to do.

“To be fair,” he mentioned, “we did believe you were Nightmare, and Nightmare did try to kill me.”

But most importantly, she tried to kill Max. And should probably go for Adrian and Simon next, if they didn’t stop her soon. Something he should be making sure they did, but couldn’t leave the conversation, because Nova still had a lot to say about the matter.

“I’m aware of that,” Nova agreed “but… don’t you think she would at least deserve another chance?”

During the whole conversation, he had tried to stay as impassive as possible, only showing the right amount of emotion on his features for him to be able to get his point across. However, he didn’t do a good job on that specific moment, because Nova’s tone quickly changed.

“Or, maybe not Nightmare, specifically,” she withdrew. “But think about it. I was in that prison—wrongfully, yes—but it still gave me time to think about my life and my choices, and to decide that, if I ever got out of there, I would do things differently. The Renegades have to be willing to look beyond the mistakes of the past and understand that people can change.” Nova shook her head. “And I’m not talking about the execution, either. I know you’ll never forgive Ace Anarchy for what he did, and maybe you’ll never forgive Nightmare, either—”

At least we can agree on that.

And the only reason they could agree on that, was because Hugh was hearing her words as if she were talking to him underwater, and instead of focusing on what she was saying, he could only focus on her gestures, her hands, and, for some reason, her eyes.

But weirdly enough, he only did it when she wasn’t looking in his.

“—But there are dozens of prodigies on that island, some who have been there for more than a decade. And yet—” she raised her finger “—we have no systems in place to see if they really are as dangerous as we think they are. To see if they deserve the punishment they’re receiving. Maybe some of them want to become useful citizens in this world;” she shrugged, “maybe some of them deserve that. But you want to strip their powers from them, without even giving them a chance to explain why they did the things they did or how they’ve changed in the years since. Many of them are still being persecuted for crimes they committed in the Age of Anarchy…” Nova clicked her tongue before asking, “I mean, didn’t you do anything during that time that you’re not proud of?”

Nova asking him something so directly made him realize his jaw had been clenched during the whole conversation with no apparent reason at all. Then, a lot of things he wasn’t proud of doing during the Age of Anarchy started to come to his mind, and he had to stop his brain from doing that, because if the memories kept running, they were going to get to a point of no return, and no one would like what they were going to see.

Because when he first did, something broke inside of him.

No. It didn’t break.

It died.

Something died.

“We did what we had to do to stop the villain gangs, to bring order and peace,” he answered. “We would do it again if we had to.”

He would do it again. Most of it.

Only most of it.

She arched an eyebrow. “Even if that meant doing things that you wouldn’t allow today as part of the Code Authority?”

He clenched his jaw again and pinched his lips, only that this time, he knew exactly why he had done it.

“Maybe some of those prisoners did things that were… justified, in some way,” Nova continued. “Maybe they stole things because there were no jobs back then. Maybe they fought against authority because authority abused and ostracized people like them. Maybe they would choose differently now, if we only gave them a chance.”

Give them another chance. Chances.

Nova seemed to be really interested in chances. But Hugh had learned that the world didn’t always give second chances to people, not even to those who deserve it the most, and the sooner Nova learned that, the less the world would hurt her.

He had to stop her right there before realization hit her in the face.

When his kids were little and did something wrong, he (or Simon) would kneel in front of them and make it clear why their behavior was wrong, so they knew exactly the reason they were being grounded. Now, Nova was not his kid, and especially, she wasn't exactly a kid anymore. But she was still young, and if he could do something to protect her, he would do it.

He couldn’t apply the same technique he applied with Adrian and Max. However, he could definitely show her the right path and hope she knew, it was for her own good.

And, again, she would understand.

She had to understand.

“Nova… I can tell you’re passionate about this,” he started, and clearly noticed how her jaw tensed too, “but… you have to understand that the people in that prison aren’t like you. You were innocent. You shouldn’t have been there in the first place. While they are criminals and villains, practically savages some of them.”

But to his surprise—

Nova didn’t.

“How do you know?” she spatted. “How many of them have you talked to recently? Or for that matter, how many of them ever received a fair trial?”

Hugh sighed and took a look at his surroundings. There were a lot of Renegades around them, pretending to be on their own thing, but clearly listening to the entire conversation for who knows how long.

He couldn't scream at them. Not again.

Nova, on the other hand, was also looking around but didn't appear as angry as Hugh was.

Maybe because she couldn't understand the severity of the conversation they were having.

“What are you suggesting?” he asked her, lowering his voice. Nova returned his attention to him. “That we postpone the Agent N reveal until we can… what, interview them?” then, he added, scoffing, “Or should we devote our resources to gathering evidence from ten years ago, all so we can prove what we already know? They are villains,” Hugh reminded her.

And in response, she reminded him, “I’m not a villain. But that wasn’t going to stop you from executing me.”

Hugh didn't doubt Nova's innocence. At least, not anymore. But, when she said it that way, she sounded so convincing and so sure of her words, that he wondered why he had thought she was Nightmare in the first place.

“And no,” Nova continued, “I’m not suggesting you postpone the reveal for a while, I’m suggesting you postpone it indefinitely.”

He stepped back, feeling shocked by the determination in her voice.

And her audacity.

That audacity.

Simon always said that one shouldn't be quick to judge other people's actions because there was always a reason why they were acting like that. Within those words (and Simon, always Simon) in mind, Hugh thought that there had to be a reason behind her audacity, and it couldn't be the one he was starting to think it was.

Nova didn't flinch at his reaction and continued to talk as confidently as before. “In fact, I think you should destroy Agent N. All of it. Along with any possibility that it could ever be re-created.”

Maybe it was resentment.

Maybe those were her ideas about good and bad.

Maybe it was that she was scared of losing her powers herself.

So he went with that, and recited the exact words he had been thinking about since Genissa Clark had been neutralized, and that he had been saying to each Renegade that expressed that very same concern. “If this is about what happened to Frostbite and her team, it’s important for everyone to know that we are working to ensure the safety of all Renegades—”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Nova interrupted him violently. “This isn’t about the patrol units or figuring out how to defend ourselves more efficiently or any of that” she clenched her fist, closed her eyes, and exclaimed, “The world doesn’t revolve around the Renegades!”

Suddenly, a shadow rose and turned into the familiar silhouette of the man who had used the exact same words years before Nova entered into his life.  

Hugh (and the rest of the world) would’ve been able to recognize his face on any occasion. At first, the only thing that made him less afraid of him was the knowledge that, at least, he didn't know how his face looked like, because he always hid it behind a mask and that made him have something to use against him that couldn't be used against Hugh.

Now, he knew how his face looked.

Now they could be… considered equals.

Even if Hugh had promised himself he would never let the power corrupt him the same way it had corrupted him.

He was better than him.

He would always be better than him.

But since no one could be better than him, Ace Anarchy's silhouette looked at him, raised an eyebrow,  and echoed, “The world doesn’t revolve around the Renegades. And the sooner Captain Chromium learns that, the less the world is going to hurt him and his cause.”

She shook her hands a little, but her eyes didn't open, and the shadow didn't disappear. “Isn’t it our responsibility to bridge the gaps between people?” she asked, more calmly than before. “To recognize that we all have to live in this world together? We need to start seeing other prodigies, not as villains, but as—” she blinked twice “—well, other human beings, who maybe aren’t so different from us after all. I want to believe that we can close this divide between us, but… Agent N isn’t the answer.”

Ace out his hands over Nova's shoulders.

“But that’s all the Anarchists have to say about the matter.”

And when their gazes locked, it hit him.

Someone was looking at him through Nova's eyes, and he immediately knew who it was because he recognized the feeling from when he looked at Adrian's and for those seconds he dared to do it, he didn't see his son, but her.

Through her eyes, he could see, for the split of a second, the man who had tried to stop Ace Anarchy even before they knew exactly how to do it. He saw the man who felt as if he had been a coward during all those years for staying by the Anarchist’s side, but in reality, was one of the best ones out of the bunch, because in the end, he had been able to have the courage to do what was right.

And she said that one cannot be brave who has no fear.

He wanted to get close to her. He wanted to kneel, grab her by the shoulders, and take a closer look at her, just to be completely sure he wasn't going crazy, because it for sure sounded crazy and maybe Hugh was indeed a little bit crazy, but he was also desperate enough to do all of those things he was thinking about just to get an answer once and for all.

But Ace's hands were still on her shoulders.

And she seemed so far.

And he feared it would happen again. Like when he saw Adrian's eyes, looking for her, just to realize she wasn't really there.

The Artino girl wasn't there either.

All the Artinos had been killed during that same night and nothing was going to bring them back.

“I know this is coming from a place of good intentions,” he stated. “I don’t expect you to understand the challenges facing our world of the difficult decision we’ve had to make, but I can assure you that none of our decisions have been made lightly.”

None of them.

Not a single one.

“I know that, but—”

“Everything the Council has done these past years has been in service to the people of this world who need our help, for protection and justice. I’m afraid this isn’t up for debate, Nova. Our decision regarding Agent N, and the fate of those villains, has already been decided.” But before Nova McLain could object, he sentenced, “And our decision is final.”

He turned his back on her before she could do it, and pretended he didn't notice she kept following him with her eyes until the elevator doors closed, and he leaned his back against the wall, doing his best not to start hyperventilating.

She didn't turn your back on you.

She didn't fail you.

She died.

She just died.

***

He stayed the rest of the morning inside his office after that, without (luckily) no one entering his office to ask him about anything. Not even Evander did it, and he had this horrible habit of just bursting into their offices to pretend he needed to seriously talk about something to ignore his own responsibilities. Hugh hated when he did that, so when he heard someone knocking on his door, he was ready to yell at Evander to get the hell out of his office, as if he were a seventeen-years-old teenager again, saying, “EVANDER, GET OUT OF MY ROOM!” (only that this time, Evander wouldn’t be able to answer him with “WE SHARE THE ROOM, YOU CAPTAIN CU-”)

But Hugh didn’t have to yell anything, because it wasn’t Evander. It was Tamaya.

And whoever dared to yell at Tamaya could consider themselves a dead man.

“I’m going to get some take out for lunch,” she said, leaning against the door frame, “you want me to bring you something?”

Tamaya was the one who went out to get the others lunch each time they needed because she was able to fly to the coffee shop and get there a lot faster than any of them could. She didn’t seem to have a problem with it, even though she did have a lot of problems with a lot of things, and people taking advantage of her powers were one of them.

Maybe she liked to feel useful. Or maybe something she just needed to get out of there every once in a while.

“No, I’m fine,” he answered her.

“Oh, you brought something to eat then.”

“Of course.”

Tamaya wasn’t convinced by that answer.

“What did you bring?” she asked.

Without hesitation, Hugh opened one of his desk’s drawers. Fortunately, there was a can of soda that he didn’t know how had arrived there, but he was glad it did.

He took it out and showed it to her, pretending to be super proud of himself or something, and Tamaya rolled her eyes. “Well— if you don’t want anything, I won’t bring you anything.”

“That’s literally how things are supposed to work.”

She was about to leave when she remembered something. “Oh, by the way— Kasumi wants us to have lunch together.”

Hugh couldn’t help but growl. “Why?”

“Because she says so,” she answered him. “So take your… soda, and meet us at the dining room in half an hour.”

Hugh just went back to what he was doing and told her he was going to be there. Tamaya didn’t say anything else.

The Council didn’t eat at the cafeteria with the rest of the staff. They had a private dining room on the same floor their offices were. The cleaning staff never went there, because the six of them took turns to mop and sweep, and the main unspoken rule was “If you spill it, you clean it”. It was like when they lived all together in one house and had to work as a team to keep it clean, which Kasumi said was nice and brought her nice memories, but most of the time, Hugh thought it was a pain in the ass, since, obviously, sometimes people didn’t respect the unspoken rule, probably because they knew that someone else would be the one who would clean it anyways.

Just like when they lived together.

Only that, now, that someone was Hugh.

The dining room was mainly used by him and Simon. Sometimes Adrian went there to have lunch with them, but lately, he preferred to do it with his team. It wasn’t very common for the Council to eat together, because each one had their own schedule. He didn’t know why Kasumi suddenly wanted to do it and he thought it was a little bit annoying she didn’t take into consideration that maybe the rest of them had other things to do, but at the same time, couldn’t find a good reason for him to say no.

When the half an hour Tamaya said went by, he walked to the dining room and saw Kasumi for the first time that day.

She didn’t greet him or anything. Evander was with her, chattering about something that he didn’t comprehend, and didn’t want to know about, so he sat down on one of the chairs and completely ignored their conversation until Tamaya appeared uncomfortably sitting down in the chair beside him.

She didn’t bring him anything. Anything at all.

And, well… yes, Hugh had told her he didn’t want anything; but he always told her he didn’t want anything and she brought him something anyway. When one of them forgot their lunch, Tamaya bought them a sandwich or a sushi roll and basically stayed there until they finished the whole thing, and since Hugh was the one who forgot about his basic human needs the most, he had a lot of recent memories of Tamaya watching him eat, like a mother making sure her kid eat all his vegetables (which turned even more accurate when Hugh informed her he didn’t like green peppers and she told him to grow the fuck up and eat the damn thing.)

The next thing he knew, was that everyone was sitting at the table, eating their respective lunch in complete silence. Tamaya had bought a gyro, Kasumi was having a bowl of rice and pasta salad she had brought from home and was drinking a white milky beverage that Evander got for her when he went to the taco stand Oscar Silva and Adrian had told him about.

“You know how many calories are on those things?” Hugh asked Evander.

Evander looked at him and pointed at the soda he was drinking. “Is that all you’re having for lunch?”

He remained silenced for a little. “No…”

Tamaya rolled her eyes and Evander scoffed. “Evander, chips and soda do not count as lunch, eat grapes, grapes are the chips of nature,” he said in a ridiculous voice that intended to sound like Hugh’s (and didn’t). Kasumi snorted and tried to hide it by drinking some of her weird water/milk, but wasn’t able to. “Come on, Kasumi, make the Hugh voice,” Evander told her.

Don’t you dare.

Kasumi didn’t dare.

“Maybe later, Vandy,” she said, with a serious face. “Maybe later.”

“Come on!” he insisted, after taking a sip of his drink (the same he brought Kasumi). “Zoomie, you make a pretty good imitation of Hugh.”

Tamaya nodded. It was true; Kasumi was pretty good at imitating voices. He just wasn’t in the mood to hear them make fun of him.

Luckily, Kasumi wasn’t in the mood for that either. “Evander, I said no.”

Her voice was so severe and chilling, that Evander understood immediately. Tamaya asked him for a napkin, and the whole dining room fell silent again.

And it was also like when they lived together.

It hadn’t always been like that though.

“You know, this is the first time in, like, five years, I don't have any paperwork to fill,” Evander announced.

Literally nobody asked.

“Well, I do have tons of paperwork waiting for me on my desk,” Tamaya said, “I wouldn’t mind sharing it with you.”

“That’s low, dude, I’m telling—” he frowned and looked around “—Wait… where’s Simon?”

And with that simple question, the room’s silence turned into a completely different type of silence.

One that he could not only feel, but also touch. One that made his vision blurry, a lump in his throat, and his eyes water. One that it was more like a fog than silence.

One that he could tell came from an imaginary fire that was so dangerous, he always shared a look with someone to make sure they were also aware of the situation they were in.

Only that this time, he didn’t share a look with anyone.

Tamaya and Kasumi did though.

And then, they turned to see Hugh.

But he didn’t turn to see them back.

“He wasn’t feeling well,” Kasumi said. “So… he stayed home.”

Evander arched his eyebrows. “Huh. Again?—” he turned to see Hugh “—Does he have a cold?”

“Evander—” Tamaya said.

“What? Dude, I’m literally just asking.”

“Well, don’t ask,” Hugh blurted out. “It’s not of your business.”

“But—”

“Not of your business,” then, he echoed, mockingly, “Dude.”

It’s not of anyone’s business.

He pretended he finished his soda and threw it in the can that was beside the water cooler close to the door. Even though the rest of them had just started eating, he saw no point in staying there longer than he already had. He had done enough by just being there for a while.

And he had other things to do.

Hugh excused himself and stood up. Neither Kasumi nor Tamaya said anything to him and just kept eating their lunches, probably because they already knew there was nothing that could be said.

But Evander didn’t know that.

So, before Hugh walked through the door, he said loud and clear:

“Someone didn’t get it last night.”

Kasumi got all pale and Tamaya started choking with her gyro. When they were able to recover from the initial shock, they cast an expecting and preoccupied glance at Hugh, waiting for his reaction for what felt like hours, and not seconds.

It took him a lot of time to process those words. He considered himself someone who reacted pretty quickly to everything, but the words Evander said to him were like freezing water, or a blow to the face, or…

Those things that would never be able to hurt him, but for some reason, if they were cold or powerful enough, would disorient him for a couple of seconds, before he would be able to get back up again and do something about it.

So at that moment, the only way he could react was asking him:

“What did you say to me?”

Evander raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I said you didn’t get it. You know”

But everyone pretended to not know what he was talking about.

Seeing they didn't react the way he expected them to, he frowned and clicked his tongue. “You didn’t tap that ass. You didn’t do the PP. He didn’t rub your silver spe—”

Kasumi got all red. “Evander—”

“I’m explaining it to him, I’m explaining it to him,” he told her as if trying to calm her down. “Let me finish the last one, I’ve been wanting to say that joke for months.”

Tamaya left her gyro on the plate and massaged her temple. “Evander, seriously, shut the fu—”

“Wait, no, I got this—” he chuckled, put his elbows on the table, closed his eyes “—Your hubby didn’t make love to you last night?” And then, after opening his eyes again, he added, “Darling.”

And with that, Hugh lost his head.

He went there.

He really went there, and the worst part was, he probably didn't even realize that.

He closed the door violently and screamed, “THAT'S IT.”

He threw himself at Evander before he could process what was happening. But Tamaya and Kasumi were a lot faster than him, and swiftly got in between the two of them, Tamaya grabbing Hugh by the shoulders and pulling him back, and Kasumi pushing Evander out of his way.

“BRO, WHAT THE—”

“I SAID IT’S NOT OF YOUR BUSINESS,” he yelled. “IT’S NOT OF ANYONE’S BUSINESS”

Tamaya and Kasumi finally managed to put them behind each of them, creating a weird barrier between the two. And even if they were almost as tall as the two of them were, they still weren't tall enough to completely block each other from the other's view. Hugh could perfectly see Evander paralyzed by his reaction, almost tripping with his own feet because of how much Kasumi kept pushing him and having to hold all of his weight on a chair to not fall backward.

But that still wasn't enough to stop him from shitting on him.

“WHAT’S YOUR DAMAGE!? DID YOU FALL OFF THE BED!? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.”

“Evander, lower your voice,” Kasumi urged him, “people will hear you.”

“Tell him to lower his voice!” he answered pointing at Hugh with the palm of his hand. “He started it! HE’S THE ONE WHO'S ACTING LIKE A FUCKING LUNATIC!”

Kasumi didn't agree with him directly. Instead, she turned around, looked at him from head to toe, slightly closing her eyes and pressing her lips, and before she even opened her mouth, he already knew he didn't want to listen to anything she had to say.

She hadn't listened to him first.

But now she was going to.

Everyone there was going to hear him.

“Hugh, I think—”

“Why did you tell him?” he asked.

Evander frowned even more. “Huh? Tell me what?”

But Kasumi barely moved.

“Why did you have to run to Evander and tell him about my personal life?” he kept asking her. “No, the real question is,” he scoffed, “why do you feel the necessity to get in my personal life, Kasumi?!”

Now it was Evander the one who carefully pushed Kasumi aside and put her behind him, but before he could scream at him or punch him in the face, knowing perfectly well that wouldn't do anything, Tamaya put his whole arm in front of him, giving him a deathly look, and Kasumi slightly touched his shoulder, completely poker-faced.

And for some reason that made him even angrier.

She had no right to act like she was the sane one in the situation.

“It’s not only your personal life,” she explained to him in a calm voice. “It’s also Simon’s. And I’m not getting into your personal life, he was the one who told us what was going on.”

“Us,” he echoed.

Tamaya let her arms down to her sides. “Yeah. Us. He told us everything.”

Evander didn't take her distraction as an opportunity to punch Hugh. “Everything?” he asked instead.

“Everything,” Hugh repeated.

But he wasn't answering Evander's question.

“Yeah, that’s great,” he said, faking a smile. “That’s fucking great. He went with you and talked shit about me behind my back.” The words were coming out of his mouth before he could question them, “What a great fucking husband he—”

“Do not finish that sentence,” Kasumi ordered him, giving a step forward. “He wasn’t talking shit about you, he was worried. Simon was worried sick about you. He is worried sick about you.”

“Why— why is he worried about him?”

Everyone ignored him one more time.

Hugh crossed his arms. “Well, he doesn’t seem like it.”

Tamaya massaged her temple one more time and sighed. “Maybe if you—”

“Maybe if I do what?” he interrupted. “Should I make the first move? I already tried it, and it didn’t work.” He tried to scoff one more time, but what came out of him sounded more like a growl. “You should know; Simon must have told you.”

“When—”

“Yes, he did,” Kasumi answered, shameless. She crossed her arms too and frowned. “That wasn’t right, Hugh.”

What do you know?

You weren’t there.

No one was there.

“No, everything was going fine.” He clenched his fists. “Look, I don’t know what Simon made you think, but we were fine.”

“Not kissing your husband for weeks and then trying to do it just to avoid talking with him about the issue doesn’t sound fine to me.”

Evander gasped. “Wait, you actually haven’t been getting it—”

Hugh laughed out loud, and even he could notice he sounded like an absolute maniac. “You too? You too are going to pull that card on me?” he questioned her. “I do kiss him, and I do hug him, and we do have sex, and I shouldn’t be telling you any of these things, because these are private details of my life you shouldn’t know about! My private life is completely okay.”

Tamaya took him by surprise.

“But are you okay?”

Her voice sounded so soft, so calm, and so genuinely concerned, that he didn’t dare to lie to her, or to even look at her when he answered:

“Again. Not of your business.”

After that, Tamaya was herself again. “Hugh, listen—”

And Hugh managed to get the courage to lift his face. “No, you lis—”

The entire room went dark before Hugh could finish talking. A pair of blinding white lights started shining right in front of him, and, even with his eyes slightly closed, he could tell they were coming out of Evander’s fists.

The spotlight wasn’t on him at that moment. So he decided to steal it.

Classic Blacklight.

Classic Evander Wade throwing a fucking fit when the world dared not to revolve around him for a minute.

After making sure he had grabbed everyone's attention, he opened his hands again and the tiny balls of lights returned to their light bulbs. But his face was still clouded by a strange darkness that even made Kasumi flinch and move backward towards Tamaya.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked, clenching his teeth and glaring at the three of them. “What the hell are you even talking about?—” and then, he turned to see him “—Why does everyone seem to know what the fucking problem is except me!?”

“…and she left me here!

ME!”

Him.

It was always him.

It hadn’t been enough for Evander that their lives practically had to revolve around him during all his childhood and teenage years. He now wanted them to stop their discussion and tell him what was going on as if they couldn’t have their own problems without him feeling he was entitled to know every single detail about it.

And hadn’t that been how that whole fight had started in the first place?

He hadn’t been able to control Tamaya and Kasumi finding out about what was going on because Simon had told him. But Hugh wasn’t Simon, and he was sure as hell he didn’t feel comfortable at all sharing that part of his life with him.

He wouldn’t understand. He would pretend he did for a couple of minutes, and then would use it against him on the first opportunity he had that would benefit him one way or another.

He knew Evander. He knew he was capable of that, and more.

“I think you should leave,” he told him.

His expression hardened. “I think you should answer my question.”

“I told you to leave!”

Hugh raised his arm to point at the door—

And Evander grabbed him by the wrist.

Kasumi’s eyes widened and Tamaya’s face contorted while her wings bristled, alerting her of the danger.

Hugh knew Evander was taller than him. At first, all of them made a lot of jokes about how it was Hugh’s worst fear and that he wasn’t allowed to stand beside him at any moment so nobody noticed it. But every one of those comments stayed like that.

Jokes.

Not only because, well, they were. But also because, inside his head, Hugh always saw Evander as shorter than him, probably because he had gotten used to the idea of things being that way, and he wasn’t in the mood for other detail of his life changing again, it didn’t matter how small it may seem.

Yet, now he couldn’t keep pretending he didn’t see what was right in front of him.

He could tell his hands were getting warmer and warmer, to a point that if he had normal skin and his suit wasn’t covering his arm, he would start to feel as if they were burning him, and Evander didn’t appear to have any intentions of letting him go.

As if he wanted to burn him to death.

He kept staring at each other, with a vein popping out of his neck. The corners of his lips curved up, but before it could turn into a grin, it disappeared, and instead of laughing, he ordered, “Don’t you talk to me like that.”

“Me.

She left me here, guys.

She left.”

“Evander, that’s enough,” Tamaya said, with a calm, but terrifying tone. “Let him go.”

But Evander only grasped him tighter.

Her fingers shone with the electricity they carried. “Let. Him. Go.”

He glanced at Tamaya, then at Kasumi, and finally, he returned his attention to Hugh, waiting.

Waiting for him to say it.

“She left.”

“Let me go.”

Evander pressed his lips together and lost his grip until his arm fell, and he sat down again.

“And for the record—” Kasumi’s voice said, “—Don’t talk to any of us like that.”

Hugh turned his back at them and took off one of his gloves as fast and discreetly as he could. He heard Kasumi asking something to Evander but she said it in such a low voice that the only thing he could actually listen was Evander’s childhood nickname, which Kasumi always used and Hugh didn’t because it felt so personal to both of them he didn’t dare to interfere with that.

His hands were dry. And he forced his eyes to stay that way too because he could sense them getting wet at the thought of Evander really believing Hugh was going to hit him.

He heard Tamaya’s footsteps getting closer to him, and he rapidly put his glove back on and turned to see them again, scoffing. “So, that’s what today is about? You collectively decided all you were going to do was contradict me?”

Tamaya stepped back the steps she took and scoffed too. “Sounds familiar?” she asked. Hugh couldn’t ask her at first what she was talking about. “You can’t ask us to blindly follow you b and get mad when we decide not to do it. Especially when the things you’re doing are—” she looked for the right words “—not right.”

Kasumi straightened her back and nodded, agreeing with Tamaya. Evander tilted his head to one side while raising one eyebrow, and Hugh fought the impulse of doing it too.

“What?” he asked instead. “Tamaya, what are—”

“I’m talking about the fucking execution of Nova McLain,” she blurred out. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

Evander growled and put his feet on the table, leaning in the chair he was sat on. He was so confused by Tamaya’s reaction he didn’t even bother to take the time to tell Evander to sit like an adult for once in his life.

“What does that have anything to do with what we’re discussing right now?” he exclaimed.

“It has everything to do with what we’re discussing right now!” she answered. “You, and you—” she pointed at Evander, and Evander pointed at himself, confused “—decided that, since you were too afraid of a spoiled girl ‘ruining’—” she made quotes in the air “—our reputation we were going to let her kill, in front the entire city, a child. A child, guys! A child who probably had parents who worried about her, just like you, Hugh, worry about your kids, or you, Evander, will worry about yours when they are born. Would you like them to be publicly executed without a proper trial just because the adults that were supposed to protect them, acted as the children in the situation?”

But before Hugh could tell her his kids would never act like Nightmare, more than comfortable with the idea of pretending as if the whole Max and Adrian situation hadn't happened, he heard it again.

But this time it was not a quiet chuckle.

This time, Evander was shamelessly chucking so loud, it almost sounded like a burst of laughter.

Tamaya was talking about Nova McLain’s situation and Evander was chuckling.

“Child?” he asked, trying to contain his laughs. “Nightmare is not a child. Children do not do the things she did. Children don’t try to overthrow—” he turned his hands into fists and glanced up to the ceiling for a couple of seconds, and then added, to no one in particular “—Children do not try to kill other children. She wouldn’t have tried to kill Max, or Adrian, or his team if she were truly a child because she would see herself in them. That’s just how things work.”

Inside his head, maybe.

But Evander had a lot of things inside his head and most of them were so twisted Hugh couldn’t tell what he truly believed and what he did not.

“Genissa Clark is nineteen,” Tamaya reminded him. “And Nightmare, as far as we know, it’s sixteen. They’re still children.”

Evander rolled his eyes, smirking for a microsecond. “Age doesn’t matter. What matters is this—” he tapped his temple “—the head.”

Out twisted and merciless heads.

“If they act like adults, they deserve to be treated as adults.”

“No,” Kasumi said, playing with her fingers. “No, they don’t deserve that. They don’t deserve anything that happened to them. Children…” she raised her head “children are never to blame.”

But, instead of looking back at her, Evander rolled his eyes once more and crossed his arms.

Like the child he still was even if he always acted he was not.

“They may not be kids anymore, but, stars, you’re acting like one,” Hugh quipped.

He immediately put his feet on the floor and his jaw clenched. “I’m no longer nine years old, Hugh.”

Yes.

Yes, you are.

You’ve done nothing to prove me wrong.

Hugh didn’t have the opportunity to say anything though, because Kasumi put herself between Hugh and Evander once again, with her hands in her hips, and clearly said, “I wasn’t going to attend the execution.”

He froze. “You what?”

“Neither was I,” seconded Tamaya.

Hugh gazed at them, without being able to recognize their faces behind that proud expression they had all over them. “Why the fuck not?”

Kasumi scowled and rubbed the fingers of her right hand as if she wanted to snap them but didn’t, closing her eyes and keeping her head low. Tamaya instantly noticed that, and after throwing a quick attentive glance at her, her eyes bared into him.

“Because it was a monstrous and villainous thing to do,” she answered, barely opening her lips. “And the Renegades are not that.” She put her hand on her chest. “I’m not a villain, and I’m sure as hell I’m not a monster either. And I’ve spent too much time hating myself to let you or anyone allow those toxic thoughts to win.”

He looked over Tamaya’s shoulder to have a clearer vision of Kasumi. “And you? You agree with this?”

“Leave her her alo—”

“Yes, I agree,” Kasumi answered, without opening her eyes.

That was enough for him.

“So— are you insinuating I am a monster and a villain?” and he put his hand on his chest, the same way Tamaya had just done.

Kasumi stopped rubbing her fingers and saw him out of the corner of her eye.

“Take it as you want to take it,” Tamaya declared, crossing her arms. “I’m not surprised you’re trying to make it about yourself.”

“You know what? Yes!” he barked. “This is about me! I’m the one who's getting totally dragged right now, I’m the one you're criticizing, and I’m the one who’s getting attacked by all of you!” and he pointed at the three of them. “So yeah, this is about me, Tamaya, not about you!”

As soon as he said it, he knew what was coming next. He knew what Tamaya was going to do. She was going to spread her wings, close her fists, and get a lighting bolt for her to throw at him. Then, she would get so close to him, he would see the anger glowing in her eyes, and she would proceed to yell at Hugh for five minutes nonstop, and when Kasumi or Evander was able to make her keep quiet for an instant, he would start yelling back at her, and they would get trapped in an endless cycle, where neither of them knew when to shut their mouths and give up.

And he knew it because there had been times where the only thing the two of them did was fight, and yell, and try to silence the other by making sure one’s screams were louder than the other’s.

However, Tamaya didn’t do any of that.

Tamaya’s mouth fell open and was unable to say a single word while she stepped back, and leaned against the table because she wasn’t able to sit in a chair without feeling extremely uncomfortable.

Her silence was worse than her screaming.

He needed to fill the silence in one way or another.

“Why won’t you listen to me anymore?” he asked the rest. “Why don't you respect me, or my privacy, or my decisions? Do you think it’s easy? Do you think it’s easy to have this weight on my shoulders?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “No, it’s not. But I man up, I shut my mouth, and do it, you know why? Because we stopped playing superheroes a long time ago, and now we’re governors, and I don’t want us to fail, which is something the Anarchists would love to see—” he extended his arms, like pointing at the rest of the world, when in reality, he was just pointing at the small room that seemed even smaller than before “—Tell me, do you want us to fail?”

This time, he did want an answer. He did give them the time to respond, but they didn’t take it. Tamaya stayed in complete silence, Kasumi started rubbing her fingers again, and Evander just turned redder and redder with each word he said.

“Do you want us to fail?!” he insisted. “DO YOU?!”

Still, no answers.

“You don’t, do you?! YOU DON’T!”

Silence.

Silence and Kasumi covering her ear with her fists.

“YOU DON’T! So—” he pointed at Evander, “—man up—” at Tamaya, “shut your mouth—” at Kasumi, “and listen to me!” And finally, at himself. “Because I am your leader! I AM YOUR CAPTAIN! AND YOU’LL DO AS I SAY!”

His yelling immediately was cut short by the sound of the tap of the water turning on savagely and the screeching sound of Kasumi asking:

“WELL, WHO MADE YOU CAPTAIN?!”

The water in the room started to go crazy. Not only the taps had opened, but also her drink was spilled all over the floor, small drops started to float around them, and the water inside the cooler became a strange swirl, that with each passing second just turned faster and faster.

And Kasumi was crying.

Or something like that.

It was water. They seemed like tears, but they were actually water that was coming out of her eyes, without any emotions in them. Her face, which at this point was soaked, didn’t change at all, as if it had changed if she were really crying.

Still, Hugh felt it like a slap across his face.

Evander was the first one to react. “Kasumi—”

“WHO MADE YOU OUR LEADER?!” she rasped. “WHO, HUGH?” and she grabbed him by the shoulders “WHO?”

The floor started to flood. Tamaya got on the table and moved her eyes from one side of the room to the other, trying to process what was going on in front of her, while Evander stood up in the chair he was sitting on. “Kasumi Hasegawa—”

“IT WAS US!” she answered, letting go of him and stepping back. “IT WAS US AND WE CAN TAKE YOU OFF THAT POSITION AS EASY AS WE PUT YOU THERE! SO CUT. THE. CRAP!”

“Zoomie!”

The cooler felt down on its side. If Tamaya hadn’t moved slightly to the left, it would have hit one of her wings. The sound of the heavy metallic object crashing against the floor was enough to make everyone in the room go quiet, and their eyes fixated on the water that was coming out of it.

Like blood in an open wound.

He was the last one to come back to reality, after the water started to disappear right in front of his eyes, and realized Kasumi was manipulating it to form a small wave that she dropped in the sink.

She closed the taps and sighed.

“You’re… you’re not acting like a leader right now,” she mumbled, leaning against the sink without looking at him. “You’re… you’re acting like… like—”

“Like what?” he asked.

As if he wanted to hear the answer to it.

“I don’t know— You’re just…” Kasumi turned around and the water running down her face was actual tears this time. There was no sadness clouding her features that was able to hide that fact. “You’re just not my friend.”

She looked at her own feet while walking towards her the things that remained on the floor. Tamaya grabbed the plastic cup of water she had been drinking from, and even though she took it (because Kasumi liked to reuse those things) she didn’t say thank you or acknowledge her gesture, and instead, kept talking to Hugh.

“We’re not your sidekicks. We’re not even your coworkers or your employees. We are your family. We are all a family. But somehow— you forgot it.”

She grabbed her small fabric bag and started to put all her things in there, with the rest of them quietly watching her, without daring to get close.

“I’m going to ask the three of you, but especially you, Hugh, to leave me alone.”

Before Kasumi left the room, Evander got down from the chair and rushed to her. She stopped in her tracks and pressed her bag against her chest. A small tear started to come out of the corner of her eye and her lower lip trembled. He extended his hand to wipe away her tears, and Hugh suddenly felt the urge to look away.

Until Kasumi stepped back, rubbed her eyes with one hand, and mumbled: “I said the three of you. Please, respect my decision, Evander.”

Kasumi walked out of the room, without closing the door behind her. Evander followed her, but stopped right under the door frame, grabbing to it. He glanced at Tamaya, and she, almost imperceptibly, shook her head saying no to something he was silently asking her.

His eyes didn’t well up. Instead, after a blink, they turned to see Hugh, burning and glimmering an emotion he could not describe as something else but hate.

His eyes were burning and glimmering with hate.

And his words too.

“This is all your fault.”

He walked in the opposite direction Kasumi went.

I know.

This is all my fault.

“Kasumi was right, you know?”

Tamaya was the only one remaining.

“You have acted like the biggest idiot that has ever existed,” she continued. “I don’t know how you’re going to fix this and I don’t know how you’re going to fix yourself.” Her expression dulled and she slightly bent down to try to look him in the eye. “But we are your family. And you are ours.”

Hugh ignored her attempts to make eye contact and felt his hands getting moist and hot under his gloves.

But he couldn’t decide if tell her or not, because Tamaya sighed, grabbed the rest of her lunch, and without turning to see him, sentenced:

“Talk to us when you start acting like it.”

And just like that, Hugh was left alone in an empty room, again.

***

Everything had started two months ago.

It wasn’t like there weren’t somedays where they didn’t have sex. After all, they were part of the Renegades Council. The days were long, and there were occasions when they just arrived at the house and went directly to bed, without eating dinner or anything.

Despite that, they had managed to keep a certain schedule. And if he wanted to be completely honest, those days when he could have a little time alone with Simon were the best.

Until they weren’t.

“What’s going on?” Simon asked suddenly.

“Huh?”

“What’s going on?” Simon asked again.

He wasn’t mad at all. He was genuinely concerned.

It was… adorable. So Simon.

“Everything all right?”

Hugh knew something was wrong. But he felt a little bit embarrassed about backing down with something he had started.

Which was… weird.

Because nothing was embarrassing with Simon.

“Hugh—”

“I think I’m no longer in the mood to keep going,” he blurred out.

Simon’s eyes widened. He licked his lips, like he did every time he was analyzing a situation, and smirked. “You aren’t in the mood? You? You, Hugh Everhart, aren't in the mood for sex?”

Hugh couldn’t laugh at the stupid face he had made. “No.”

Luckily, Simon noticed that. “Oh. All right. Well, don’t worry, love. It’s okay.”

“I’m so—”

“No, don’t be sorry,” he interrupted him, using the same tone Hugh used all the time when they were younger to tell Simon not to be sorry. “There’s no need to apologize.” He ran his hand through his hair and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “I’m just— going to the bathroom—” he grabbed the pile of clothes he had left on the nightstand “—I won’t take long.”

Hugh couldn’t tell if he took long or not. He just put on his clothes again too and got under the covers. He didn’t even turn around when Simon asked him, “Do you wanna be the little spoon tonight?”

He was never the little spoon. But he accepted anyway.

There were a lot of other nights that ended up that way. Nights that Hugh started something just to follow the schedule, things that they never finished because Simon always noticed something was wrong and said they should stop. Then, he kissed him, told him there was nothing to be sorry about, went to the bathroom to change, and went back to be the big spoon.

Until one day, Hugh fell asleep in a position that didn’t allow Simon to cuddle with him. Or at least he pretended to fall asleep to avoid any questions as if why he didn’t want to cuddle that night.

He couldn’t avoid any questions the next morning though.

When he went downstairs to have breakfast, Simon was waiting for him in the kitchen.

“Glad you’re here so early,” Simon said. “We need to talk.”

It was Saturday. Simon was wearing his cotton rob and had prepared an avocado toast and a cup of coffee.

Just the mere fact of him drinking coffee, plus the “We need to talk” phrase, was a bad sign. Not only because Simon got really anxious when he didn’t control how much coffee he drank, but also because the last time he had told him they needed to talk, was when he found some not very family-friendly videos on the family’s computer and thought that it would be better if he asked Hugh if they were his first because he didn’t want to accidentally introduce Adrian to that kind of… audiovisuals.

Stars…

That day had been one of the worst days of his life. And Hugh had fought a civil war. The bar for “bad days” was pretty high, but Adrian still managed to go higher than that.

“What did he do now?”

“Oh, God, no— Adrian’s clean. He’s still sleeping, actually,” Simon responded, completely aware of what Hugh was talking about. “But that’s why I want to talk to you before he comes.”

Hugh felt a little bit less tense. A little bit.

He took the coffee pot and started pouring it on the first cup he found. “What do you wanna talk about?”

Simon drummed the fingers of his right hand on the bar and scratched his beard with his left hand, staring at his unfinished breakfast. “Love… are you having problems?”

“Problems?” he scoffed. “What kind of problems?”

“Oh, you know… problems… down there.”

He lost focus and he poured the coffee on his hand. “Shit—”

“Look, it’s just that I think it’s kind… strange what has been going on these last days,” Simon said without noticing the whole coffee situation. “We— we had a schedule, and now we don’t, and I’m not mad at all, I just want to know if there’s something more to it.”

Hugh left the coffee pot where it belonged and Simon kept talking.

“You should— we should go to see a doctor,” he whispered. “I know you have never had an appointment with a doctor before, but we could… I don’t know, ask around, until you find one that makes you feel comfortable.”

And he would have probably kept talking if he hadn’t interrupted.

“It’s more common than you may think, you know,” he assured him. “And there’s nothing wrong with it. Everyone once in a while has— you know, some kind difficulties, or it hurts, or—”

“No.”

Simon suddenly went silent. “No what?”

“Nothing hurts,” he answered. “I literally cannot feel pain, remember?”

“Oh, no, I mean, of course I remember,” Simon mumbled. “It was— it was just an expression.”

Hugh frowned. “I’ve never heard that expression before.”

Neither of them said anything for an uncomfortable amount of time, while Hugh stirred his coffee with a plastic spoon and Simon pretended he was really focused on his breakfast.

“You didn’t answer my question though,” he said after a while. “Are you having any kind of problems?”

Hugh gave him the same answer. “No.”

“All right. I believe you. And I trust you. You know I’ll always trust you, don’t you?”

When Simon said he trusted him, Hugh usually responded to him saying he trusted him back. But this time, he said, “As you should.”

At that moment, Adrian walked into the dining room, letting them know their conversation had come to an end.

Hurting.

What a strange word.

He couldn’t comprehend it. And he’d never liked things that he couldn’t comprehend.

Nevertheless, even if he had lived his whole life hating things he couldn’t comprehend, now he didn’t understand why he felt so attacked by the way Simon formulated his question. The rational part of him knew he had no intention of making him angry, but his emotional side got angry at him anyway. He got so angry, he dedicated the rest of the day to ignore him.

And things didn’t change after that conversation. They just got worse.

So much worse.

Hugh didn’t even bother anymore to make the first move. He slept turning his back on Simon, so he could make clear he didn’t want to be touched at that moment. But sometimes, Simon didn’t understand (or pretended he didn’t understand) his signals, and asked him in a thousand different ways if that was going to be the night everything was going back to normal.

“How are you feeling, love? Are you better now?”

“How about we try something new today?”

“Hugh, are you awake?”

“Hugh, love, please… answer me”

But Hugh never answered him. Not with anything else but “Fine”, “Other day”, “No”, or just silence. Because sometimes silence counted as an answer.

And sometimes it was the loudest of sounds.

He was already ready for bed. He had brushed his teeth, had put on his pajamas, and had gone downstairs to make sure Adrian was still breathing, being especially careful not to wake him up.

Fifteen minutes had passed since that, and he was still standing up next to the bed, without feeling like getting in yet.

Then, he realized they hadn’t made the bed since the day of the fight. The coverlet was almost touching the ground and the pillows were everywhere except where they were supposed to be. He felt a strange energy going through his body, that ordered him to get closer and start making the bed.

No one liked to sleep on an unmade bed anyways.

However, the moment he started doing that, he made the mistake of graving Simon’s pillow. And Simon’s pillow made the mistake of smelling just like him, and the smell of mint, fabric softener, hit and the citrus body lotion he used was so intense, it made him feel, even if it was for a couple of seconds as if Simon were there.

That feeling lasted, at least, five seconds. And when he tried to smile, he started crying.

Because that pillow wasn’t Simon. Because Simon was not there.

Because Simon had left. He really left.

Without letting go of the pillow, he sat on the cold and hard floor. His elbows accidentally hit the nightstand he had next to his side of the bed, making the lamp and the couple of glasses he never returned to the kitchen tremble a little, but he wouldn’t have cared less if they fell to the floor and broken.

It wasn’t like they could cut him or anything.

He smelled the pillow one more time, and it was more than enough to make Simon’s ghost appear a couple of feet away from him, with empty eyes and a serious face, asking the same questions over and over again.

Why don’t you ever touch me anymore?

Why am I always invisible to you, even when I’m not?

Why are you so fucking cold all the time?

Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?!

“Because I don't even know what is wrong with me,” he finally answered.

Simon’s ghost didn’t ask what he meant. After all, even if he did and Hugh answered him, he wouldn’t have understood.

In fact, he knew Simon hoped he never would.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t attracted to Simon anymore. No, it was not that. For him, Simon was the most perfect man he had ever seen in his whole life. He loved his voice, soft like velvet. He loved his hands touching his skin. He loved his eyes that looked at him with adoration, and he loved his body, toned and covered in body hair, that used to make Simon feel self-conscious, but that Hugh had always found really appealing and he made sure to remind him that in every opportunity he had.

Simon had not a single flaw because he was perfect for him.

But when the darkness filled the room and he stretched out his hand to touch him…

It was like something fell upon him. Something so heavy and so big, he couldn’t get rid of it, not even using his powers at their maximum capacities. It didn’t let him move, it didn’t let him speak, and the only thing he could do was to soldier on, praying to a God he wasn’t sure it existed, asking him to please take that weight off him when the sun came out because if he didn’t do it, Hugh would have been capable of staying there for the rest of his days.

Completely still. Without any strength to move his head or change into a more comfortable position. Letting his body get all dusty as if he were part of one of those sets of furniture that they kept in the guest’s rooms that were never used because no one visited them, other than the rest of the Council.

Now, he didn’t know if it was God the one that took that weight off him, but he did know that as soon as the sun started to come out, the weight became lighter and lighter until it finally disappeared and Hugh was able to move again. He dusted off his whole body, prepared to go to the Headquarters, and put on his best face to convince others (and himself) that he wasn’t tired at all.

It had been a long time since the last time Hugh was able to sleep comfortably. He would say it was something that affected him even before his whole… situation with Simon. It had been going on for years. Adrian was still a kid when it all started.

“You should pop some pills or something,” Evander told Hugh when he dared to look a little bit more tired than normal. “You know— to help you sleep.” He clicked his tongue. “After the Day of Triumph, I began to take some sleeping pills, and they helped me a lot.” But before Hugh could ask him why he needed to take sleeping pills, Evander grabbed the folder where the documents he had asked him for and walked to the door, not without patting him on the shoulder first. “Maybe they can help you too.”

There was no need to say Hugh didn’t listen to him. Not only because Evander’s advice wasn’t always the best advice someone could receive, but also because there was something about taking pills he didn’t like at all.

Besides that, it wasn’t like Hugh could take any pill he wanted. They needed to have a strong effect or he would have to take more than one at a time. And Simon already needed to take pills to help him control his anxiety and went to therapy every two weeks.

He hated to say it, but it was a lot of money. It was not worthy. Simon had it worse than him, he needed those pills and those therapy sessions.

Hugh didn’t.

So, yeah, he didn’t listen to Evander. Neither did he listen to Kasumi when she gave him the same recommendation, and couldn’t contain his laugh when she suggested he should do some yoga. He also got into a big fight with Tamaya when she pointed out something was wrong with him, even though the reason that made her think that was that Hugh had broken one of the cupboard doors and was going around looking for something to eat without noticing at all he had destroyed his perfectly designed kitchen.

As time went by, going to sleep became like playing Russian roulette. He never knew if that night he was going to be able to go to sleep or not, but it wasn't like sleeping made a huge difference because each morning he woke up feeling tired anyway.

Probably, the only difference between sleeping or not, was that when he didn’t, when he stayed up all night, all he could see were ghosts.

During his childhood years, Adrian developed a huge fear of ghosts. Adrian was afraid of so many things Hugh couldn’t name each and every one of them, but he did know ghosts were very high on the list. He woke up in the middle of the night all the time, and the most common excuse he gave for his behavior, was that he was afraid the ghosts of the people who were murdered in that house would suddenly start hunting him.

Hugh didn’t believe in ghosts and he didn’t think Adrian should do it either. But when he started to see his own ghosts, he stopped complaining each time Adrian woke him up, asking him, “Daddy, can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Of course, he didn’t see the same ghosts Adrian thought he saw. Hugh’s ghosts were completely different.

Sometimes, it was a man, who despite his young age, he appeared to have lived a thousand years. He had deep circles under his blue eyes and the saddest smile it had ever existed. Occasionally, he was accompanied by a woman, with long and dark hair, who carried in her arms a chubby and loud baby that cried each time she felt her mom wasn’t close enough to her. And most of the times, they also brought with them a little girl, that got between the sheets at the same time Adrian did, and that each time he got closer to Hugh to ask him if he could cuddle him until he fell asleep, he felt as if he were hugging the dead body of that tormented soul, asking him why he didn’t arrive on time.

Hugh didn’t like other people’s kids. Especially if those kids liked to meddle in his business.  

So one of those nights, he locked the door. That way, no ghost was going to enter his room.

And neither would Adrian.

That night, he was starting to kind of fall asleep, after spending hours looking at the window, when he heard a couple of small hands trying to open the bedroom’s door. For a second, they stopped, trying to process why it wasn’t opening as it should. Then, they tried again. When they failed a third time, Adrian started bawling.

Simon woke up immediately.

But Hugh wasn't surprised at all.

“Adrian…” he mumbled. “Adrian, hold on, I’m coming!”

He removed the covers so quickly, he punched Hugh on the face, waking him up completely. He tried to open the door the same way Adrian previously did, but the panic he was feeling at that moment didn’t allow him to process why the door wasn’t opening, and just made his anxiety levels go to the roof.

“Hugh… Hugh, the door,” he mumbled. “The door’s— the door’s not opening, help.”

But he didn’t help.

Not because he didn’t want to. He wanted to help him. He wanted to tell him to calm down, and that the door was just locked.

But there was something on the sound of Adrian’s cries and the way Simon called his name that made the weight on his chest start to choke him.

Really choke him.

“Hugh! The door, please.”

“DADDY! DADDY, LET ME IN, DADDY, LET ME IN!”

“Aren’t you listening to me?! Wake up! Wake up and help me, Hugh!”

“LET ME IN, DADDY, PLEASE!”

“Hold on just a second, darling,” Simon squeezed. “Hold on just a second— HUGH, FOR FUCK’S SAKE, COME HERE AND HELP ME!”

“DA— DADDY, PLE— AAAAH!”

First, he heard something getting violently hit. Then, complete silence. And finally, Adrian started crying again.

When Simon turned on the lights, Hugh was able to turn around to see what was happening.

Apparently, Simon had kicked the door down, and Adrian had been fast enough to get away from it before it punched him in the face...

Bit he still got hit on the forehead pretty hard.

“Oh, Adrian, dar—”

“DADDY! POPS HIT ME! HE HIT ME!”

“DARLING, I SWEAR IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, FORGIVE ME!”

Hugh rubbed his eyes, annoyed at the sudden change of light in the room. He noticed Adrian was wearing the blue pajamas Kasumi had brought him during his ninth birthday and was holding the Baby Indomitable blanket.

The blanket she had made for him.

Simon kneeled in front of Adrian and grabbed him by the cheeks. “We need to take him to the hospital,” he said. His eyes were all watery and his voice broke. “We need to take him to the hospital,” he repeated with more emphasis. When Hugh didn’t respond, his worried expression turned into one of pure angriness. “Fuck, Hugh, why did you lock the door? WHY DID YOU LOCK THE FUCKING DOOR, HUH? WHY?”

For some reason, the weight that was suffocating him decided that was a good moment to let go of his throat for a second, just for him to give Simon a reason why. And the only thing that came out of his mouth was:

“Adrian is too old to be sleeping with us every night.”

Adrian started bawling again, and Simon realized going to the hospital was going to take too much time, so he took his son in his arms, and went downstairs to call Tamaya’s husband, Owen, the only doctor they truly trusted.

When Simon got out of the room, he didn’t turn off the lights. Hugh got up to do that, but in the end, decided it would be more appropriate to go with his husband and kid, in case they needed anything.

In the kitchen, Simon was holding Adrian with one arm and holding the phone next to his ear with the other. After a long wait, he hung up, ready to start yelling and punching the first thing (or person) he saw.

Luckily, the first one who noticed Hugh was there, was Adrian.

He had a big bump on his forehead.

“Give him to me,” Hugh whispered. Simon (who was dialing the phone one more time) doubted for a second but finally accepted. “How are you feeling?”

“My head hurts,” Adrian whispered.

There it was again. That word.

He sat him on the kitchen bar. “Of course it does, buddy. Do you want some juice?”

Adrian nodded. “Can I have apple juice?” he shyly asked.

Hugh looked for it inside the fridge. “We only have strawberry juice,” he said.

“I like strawberry juice too.”

“Good.”

He took two strawberry juice cartons and gave him one. At that moment, Simon pointed at the phone with a hopeful and scared expression, and said, “Tamaya, I almost ripped Adrian’s head off, I need your husband.”

While a really confused Tamaya asked Simon what the hell did he mean with almost ripping Adrian’s head off, Hugh sat down on one of the stools, right in front of his son. He had his legs crossed and was drinking his juice, moving his head as if he were listening to a happy melody.

“... and accidently hit him with the door,” Simon said to the phone. For his change of tone, Hugh could tell he was talking to Owen too (he knew Tamaya well enough to know she was still listening to everything that was going on after putting the phone on speaker). “No, he didn’t lose consciousness, he just… cried a lot… he’s—um, actually kind of hungry right now. Yeah, he’s… he’s drinking some juice. Um… let’s see— Adrian, darling.” Adrian turned around to see him. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Um… Sunday.”

“Great job—” he returned his attention to the call “—He doesn't seem disoriented either.”

Hugh paid a little bit more attention to the nasty bump Adrian had on his head. He didn’t dare to touch it for fear of hurting him more, but a part of him remembered having seen someone wrapping a bag of frozen peas on an old cloth and putting it on the injured area.

So he did that too. He just changed the bag of frozen peas with the strawberry juice carton.

“Can I drink that one too?” Adrian asked, chuckling slightly.  

Hugh smiled at him. “No, you can’t. Too much sugar.”

And when Adrian laughed again, he remembered where he had learned that piece of medical advice.

And he stopped smiling.

“Ice? Just… just ice?” Simon asked Owen, incredulous. His gaze met Hugh’s. “It seems like… Hugh already did that. Are you sure that’s all he needs? And can he go to sleep? Sure? He’s not gonna— no, but… Tamaya, please, let the doctor speak— ok, there’s no need to talk to me like that, I’m sensitive, all right? When you hit your kid with a door, you'll understand my concern.”

After Owen and Tamaya were able to calm Simon down, he hung up the phone. “Well, Adrian, Owen says you’re fine,” he said a little bit less shaken up than before. “And Tamaya is not invited to next week’s party.” Adrian chuckled again. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Simon carried Adrian all the way to his room. Hugh followed them closely, and stayed at the door, listening to his son asking his dad if they could sleep with him that night.

“You’re not too old to sleep with me anyways,” he assured.

Simon looked at Hugh, but he was so far away, he couldn’t tell what he was trying to communicate with his eyes.

If he was trying to communicate anything at all.

There was nothing Simon could say though; it still didn’t seem right for him to sleep in the same bed as Adrian that night.

After all, he had been the one that locked him out of his room when he needed him the most. Adrian was asking for his dad (or “daddy”, like he called him at that age), and he had not reacted immediately after hearing his first cries.

And to make matters worse, he hadn't bought apple juice, even if he knew it was Adrian’s favorite.

Hugh felt like the worst parent on the planet.

Simon was the one who stayed with Adrian that night. Hugh told him the three of them wouldn’t fit in the same bed anyway. Adrian wasn’t that convinced by that answer, but as soon as Simon kissed the top of his head, he seemed a lot happier than before.

He wasn’t able to sleep that night. Not because it was the first time in forever he slept on a bed all by himself, not at all.

It was actually the opposite.

Because from that moment on, two things happened: first, each time Adrian woke up in the middle of the night and went to their bedroom, Simon grabbed him by the hand and together went back to Adrian’s room, where Simon slept on the same bed as his son, and Adrian cried until he fell asleep. And second, after that night, a new ghost joined in. It was no longer the man with blue eyes, or the mother and her loud baby, nor it was the little girl who made too many questions for her own good.

It was her, whose smile could light up the darkest of rooms. Her, whose laugh he heard everywhere, without actually hearing it. Her, who sometimes made him think was seeing her through their son’s eyes, and her who, when no one else was there for him, hugged him from behind and assured him everything was going to work out at the end of the day because there was no force on the universe that was able to take down Lady Indomitable and Captain Chromium.

But she had been wrong.

Like the night after that mission.

It probably had been an unimportant mission, because Hugh could no longer remember what it was about. He just remembered he had planned it and it had failed. They were not able to get what they wanted and the bad guys won. Also, all the members of the team had gotten hurt in some way or another. For example, Simon was left temporarily deaf on one ear after a big explosion and his right hand had first degree burns. Kasumi had been able to avoid getting burned by using her powers to make a kind of water dome around her, but she still got her knees all scraped when she tried to run and fell, and when he said scraped, he meant really scraped. Tamaya wanted to electrocute one of those guys by herself when they tried to take Evander by grabbing him by the leg in a way she didn’t like at all, and even if she did leave all of them unconscious, both still got deep cuts on their hands and arms.

When they arrived, the house became a hospital, where she was the one and the only doctor, because she didn’t get hurt that much and was able to move around without bleeding to death or something.

Hugh also helped her take care of everyone’s injuries (and to calm down Simon when he started panicking about the whole “I CANNOT LIVE MY LIFE ONLY HEARING WITH ONE EAR” thing.) But he wasn’t as good as a doctor as she was, even if he was the designated nurse when one of them got sick of something that may be contagious. That’s why he limited himself to passing her the bandages, towels, and anything she needed, without complaining or giving his unsolicited advice like he constantly did with everyone except her.

After they were finished attending everyone, they decided to go to sleep. Hugh didn’t feel like sleeping that night though, so he went to the roof, thinking he was probably going to stay there until the morning came, to be able to get in bed again and pretend like he had been there the whole night.

However, someone did notice he was gone.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

She was flying a couple of inches above the ground and was wearing her pajamas and a little blanket as a cape, to cover herself from the cold wind.

With one hand, she was holding a bag of frozen peas wrapped in an old rag and put it on the small bump she had got when she got hit during that night’s mission.

Hugh just nodded, and she sat beside him, sighing.

They stayed in complete silence, and when he was about to ask her if he could help her with anything, she asked him:

“Where does it hurt, Hugh?”

“What?”

“Where does it hurt?” she asked again.

“No, I heard you the first time,” he answered. “It’s just—”

Just what?

But Georgie didn’t ask him that.

“I know it may not… physically hurt,” she explained herself after realizing he was not going to finish that sentence, leaving the bag of frozen peas on her lap. “But I also know there are a lot of ways someone can be hurting, and those wounds that are on the inside, are as important as the wounds we can see on the outside—” she grabbed his hand, and gently took him by the cheek to make sure he saw her in the eyes.

He would recognize those eyes everywhere.

“Why does it matter?” he asked her softly.

“Because… you’re very strong, Hugh,” she answered caressing his cheek. “Very, very strong. But maybe, if you tell me exactly what’s going on inside your head, we can find a way to cure your pain together. Because we’re in this together. You don’t have to do it alone. Not again. Not ever again.”

She closed her eyes, and he pressed his forehead against hers, looking at their hands, holding each other like their life depended on it.

“So tell me… where does it hurt?”

He didn’t answer the question; but he remembered it was the first time in forever he cried in front of someone who wasn’t Simon. He wasn’t even sure why he was crying and his memories about that moment were blurry as if it had been a dream. What he did remember very vividly was that she didn’t judge him at all or made him like his feelings didn’t matter. On the contrary, she stayed there as long as he needed, crying with him, until he was able to calm down again, and asked her if she wanted to go back inside. She didn’t think twice and accepted. After returning the frozen peas to the freezer, they pushed together the two couches they had in the living room, covered themselves with the small blanket she had brought with her and cuddled until they fell asleep.

From that moment on, it became more common for them to cuddle together. She was always cuddling with everyone, even with Tamaya and Simon, who were the ones with more difficulties accepting physical affection from others. But not even them could refuse her hugs, and her kisses, and her not so uncommon tickles, which Evander and Kasumi loved. Hugh couldn’t help but notice though, he was the one she hugged, kissed and tickled the most, even after she had Adrian and had to share her love with one person more, that probably needed it more than him.

And he loved to be her favorite.

Well— her second favorite. Adrian went first.

He just wished he had hugged her, kissed her, and tickled her more. She was always the one who looked for him, but he rarely looked for her to show her physical affection.

Hugh didn’t look for her at all. Not even when she disappeared.

He didn’t even know why.

He didn’t know anything.

But he did know that she had been wrong when she told him he was strong.

If he were truly strong, he would have protected her, like he had promised her he would do thousands and thousands of times.

If he were truly strong, he would have been the one that was there when the Artinos needed the Renegades, and he would have stopped the hitman Ace Anarchy sent to end them.

If he were truly strong and death had come after him the same way it came after her, he would have survived the fall.

Because he always did.

Because it was not possible for him to get hurt.

It was not her fault she hadn’t survived though. She wasn’t built that way. While Hugh was made mostly of chromium, Georgia Rawles was made of flesh, bones, blood, but mainly, she was made of love, and sometimes, love could be indestructible, but other times, it could also be fragile.

Very fragile.

It didn’t matter how strong she was.

Oh, because she was strong. She was really strong. She had the kind of strength his superpowers couldn’t give him, and that was the one that was going to change the world they lived in.

Georgia Rawles was so strong, she kept her cool when things were going to hell.

Georgia Rawles was so strong, she raised a child in the middle of a world ruled by anarchy, and was the best mother that child could ask for.

Georgia Rawles was so strong, she became the face people saw when they thought about hope, and didn’t let her beautiful heart to be changed by the obstacles life threw at her, no matter how horrible they were.

And it hadn’t been her fault she died. She didn’t fail anyone, not even the Artinos.

No. The one who had failed the Artinos, the one who had failed her, had been Hugh.

He should have been the one who died that night. He should be dead and buried, and she should be there, alive, with her son and her family, living in the world she had made a better place.

A world he didn’t feel he deserved.

Suddenly, a couple of familiar white boots appeared a couple of inches in front of him. He tried to convince himself not to look up, but his curiosity was bigger than his fear, even if he already knew who it was because she appeared every night after the door incident. It was Georgie’s ghost, just that this time, she was holding Simon’s hand. Her golden cape had not a single drop of blood and looked like new. She was wearing her whole superhero uniform but without her mask, so he had a clear view of her whole face. She let go of Simon for a second, and tried to walk towards Hugh, without taking her eyes away from him.

She didn’t even have to talk to let him know what she was trying to say.

Georgie was trying to remember him the good things his world had. He had raised two brilliant and kind sons who were his pride and joy, even when they weren’t in their best behavior. He had a friend who felt like an older sister, that fiercely loved him and the rest and had always done even when she was still learning how to love herself for the good, chaotic, intelligent, and beautiful person she was. He had another friend who, on the other hand, felt like a younger sister, and whose gestures, voice, and movements were like the calm before the storm, but when it came the time to defend others or defend herself, she became the storm itself, ready to drown whoever dare to treat her in a way that didn’t fit the respect she deserved. He also had a friend, who felt like a little brother, that he had seen grow up since he was a kid that had to get on his tiptoes to high five him, and the memory of his smile, his laugh, and his jokes that sometimes seemed to be hidden behind that strange villainous mask he wore was enough for him not to hate him, even if he hated Hugh.

He had… or had had a husband too. A husband that made him feel like he was at home each time he saw him. A husband who laughed at all his jokes, even when they weren’t that funny, and made him fall in love with him all over again each time he opened that smart mouth of his. A husband whose personality, humor, and body perfectly fit his, because if Hugh had been made for someone, it had been for him. A husband who always chose him, above anything else, but when it came to the point Hugh had failed him so many times, he had no other option but to choose himself.

And it wasn’t like Hugh could blame him. Simon deserved to be happy. Simon deserved each and all of the good things that this world had to offer to him, even if one of those things wasn’t Hugh.

Suddenly, Georgie extended her hand towards him, but when she was about to touch him, an invisible and polarized wall suddenly got in her way.

It was the first time Hugh actually saw it.

It was something grey, hollow, and invisible, that was coming out of him like the chrome that was dripping from his fingers at that very moment.

But Georgie, being Georgie, didn't flinch when she saw that wall. Instead, she flew over his head to try to get in that way. Hugh was following her with his gaze and realized at the same time as her, that thing was not a simple wall that had the sole purpose of making him get away from the people he loved.

That thing, that grey, hollow, and invisible thing, was a shell that impeded the people he loved to get closer to Hugh.

And Georgie was stubborn. Probably as much or more stubborn that Hugh was, even if she constantly was acting as if she weren’t. First, she proved her luck by kicking the shell into letting her in. Then, she used all the force in her body to try to crack it open. She got so desperate that started using her fists, punching and screaming his name, calling him “darling”, and imploring him to hold on a little longer.

The thing was… the thing was he didn’t want her to do that.

He didn’t know what she was feeling, but each time she kicked, she punched and she screamed, Hugh felt like his body was hurting. Not from the outside in, like he had heard physical pain felt, but from inside out; it was a pain that didn’t limit itself to his chest area, and went through all his body. He felt it in his legs, his face, and his arms, and gave him the sudden need to scratch it away. However, the aching shell was pretty similar to the real world, in the sense that when he did it, when he scratched his body in order to make the pain stop some way or another, his skin, and therefore his pain, didn’t react to it. It was as if he hadn’t even moved or made the most minimal effort to help himself.

Please, Georgie.

Please stop.

Please, please...

Please.

Just give up.

So Georgie fell to her knees, leaving bloody marks of her hands all over the shell. The small body of a girl grabbed her by the arm as if she wanted to hug her the same way Adrian hugged Hugh when he had a nightmare. A woman put her hand on her shoulder and quickly soothed her baby before she even started crying. Then, the man of the family wrapped his arms around the four of them, with a fearful but determined expression, that only brave people like him had.

She had heard him. She had given up on him.

The same way Simon, who didn’t stop watching the whole scene, had.

The same way he himself had.

Georgie tried to make him understand one last time.

You live in a beautiful world.

But she was wrong again.

Not about the part of the world being beautiful; it was about the part of her thinking Hugh didn’t already know that.

He did know the world he lived in was beautiful because the people who were part of it made it that way.

However, each time a happy moment occurred or a tragedy knocked at the door, it was as if Hugh wasn’t able to experience the happiness or the sadness that he was supposed to feel. When they cried, they laughed, or they yelled at him, their sobs, their smiles, and their screams felt real, but when he tried to imitate them, he felt like something that had come out from another planet pretending to be a human. Even those tears he was crying now, were more of a way his mind had found to fill the hole he had on his chest, while it waited for that weight to come and take its place.

Not like it was going to matter though. When the sun came up, all those imaginary ghosts will disappear. All the tears he had cried will dry, and all the aching he had felt will turn into the deepest of numbness.

He laid his head on the floor and grasped Simon's pillow tightly.

The next morning, he would feel no pain, in the same way, he would feel no comfort because that was part of being born with the powers he had.

But was there any point in living if you couldn’t feel anything?

***

The answer to that question was about to come to him when he was standing in the Arena, actually tearing up, after both sides of the battle had suddenly ceased fire.

He wasn’t able to see his family in the middle of the chaos, but for some reason, that didn’t scare him at all. The five of them were competent and strong, and they probably were also looking for him, so it was a matter of time and keep looking for them.

Also, this chaos— this chaos was nothing compared to what the Age of Anarchy had been.

He had been alive during the Age of Anarchy. He had experienced on first hand the horrors and the violence of it and had felt like there was no alternative but to roll with it, even if it was painful, horrible, and made him feel hopeless and small.

But then, he met them.

He met them, and the five of them were so full of light that they turned him into light too. The six got together and were able to bring hope into a world that had already given up on people like them, and constantly told them to do the same.

But what they didn’t know was that their secret was not to give up on each other.

They never gave up on each other, not even when one of those lights was gone.

Maybe she never really went anywhere. Maybe she had always been there. Maybe she was on their monthly dinners, in the internal jokes they still shared after all these years, and in the small gestures that reminded them they still love each other and they were still all in this together.

And she would have loved to see them like that.

She had been right about him being strong. But that wasn’t going to be the reason why he was going to be able to end with this chaos and why the Renegades were going to win in the end one more time. He was going to win because she was right when she said he was not only strong, but he was also vibrant, wonderful, valid, and most importantly, he was right. He was right that this world was worth protecting because life was full of moments and people that he would have never met if he weren’t alive to do it in the first place.

Hugh was alive. He was alive and he still could do something about it, to fix what was in his power to fix, and one of those things was himself and the mistakes he had made. There was nothing wrong with accepting what he had done wrong and in becoming a better person, not for others, but for himself.

There was nothing wrong with being alive.

He asked himself again.

Is there any point in living if you can’t feel anything?

But the answer slipped through his fingers. Because he was about to say it out loud, when something grabbed him and dragged him out of that dream, woke him up, and made him realize he was trapped inside a nightmare.

The helmet fell off Callum Treadwell's hands, and he fell on his back, covering his wound and trying to stop the hemorrhage.

He didn’t even bother to try to stop them when they grabbed Ace Anarchy’s helmet. He also didn’t tremble when they assured all of them had fought bravely, but now it was time for them to know fear, and he barely moved as he saw them turned into a phantom creature and soared like a bird of prey while he made his way to his master to give him the key to gaining back all the power he had previously lost.

Instead, he looked at Wonder, who now was with Nightmare, and then looked at his own boots, who also had the blood of numerous people he probably didn’t know.  

Or he did.

Maybe it was his family’s blood.

With the thought in mind, he started searching for their faces in a crowd full of people looking for their loved ones while trying not to get killed in the process. He didn’t have a lot of time to do it though, because as soon as he thought he had seen Simon, the sound of shackles springing loudly reached his ears, followed by the same voice saying:

“Master of Anarchy, rise again, and let us watch them fall.”

As soon as Ace Anarchy started to float upward, the arena began to shake. His powers grabbed each piece of the structure they could find and were used against the few Renegades who were still trying to fight back. The stand he had been gazing at was yanked up from the floor, and Ace Anarchy hurled it at where he was standing.

He threw himself on the ground to dodge it, and then, he turned to see Ace, who was already gazing at him with a condescending grin on his face.

He hadn’t tried to kill him. But he hoped he had.

Actually, he hoped Ace Anarchy killed him right there, and that he did it fast.

Because that would be a lot much easier than whatever the hell he was supposed to do at that moment.

A pair of white boots tripped with Hugh’s body. He had to blink twice to make sure what he was seeing wasn’t a hallucination brought on by stress before turning to look at them and recognize Evander’s black superhero suit. At first, he thought he was going to say something like “Get up!” or “The fuck you’re doing on the ground?!” or a mixture of both, but instead, he just kicked the silver spear in his direction.

Hugh instantly grasped it. Evander gave him a small nod with the head before running towards Ace, and watching him getting closer and closer to him made something inside of Hugh move, giving him the strength he needed to get on his feet again and follow him.

As soon as he saw him throw a blinding strobe into Ace’s face, he knew what Evander wanted him to do.

Hugh took advantage of those few instants Ace gave them when he ducked his head and hurled his weapon at him.

Ace dodged it. Just for a few inches.

Hugh made eye contact with him.

Kill me.

Please.

Please.

Kill me. Right now.

And as if he had heard him, a grin appeared on his lips.

He directed the chains that had been used to contain the prisoners at what he thought it was him, and his whole body shriveled at the idea of their cold touch of the metal being the last thing his skin touched.

But Hugh had been wrong, and the chains wrapped Evander's torso and gagged his mouth.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to get on his knees and beg him to spare Evander's life. He wanted to go feral, throw himself at him, and kill him in a way that made sure he dragged both of them directly to the hell he had been told by Ace he was going to when he died, just to make sure he wouldn't hurt anyone else when he was no longer there to protect ones who were left. He wouldn't care that it wasn't heroic of him to ask his worst enemy to end his life on the verge of tears and with a broken voice because it would be even less heroic of him to let the younger member of his family die this way.

He couldn't bear to let another person die instead of him. He couldn't.

He wouldn't be able to take it.

He wasn't strong enough.

Hugh glanced at Evander one last time, to let him know everything would be fine and that he was going to be the one who took his place. But when he realized Evander hadn't taken his eyes away from him, and terror had overtaken his entire face, the words, the begging, and the crying stayed in his throat, now completely unable to come out.

Ace flicked his fingers.

And in a blink, Evander wasn't looking at him anymore.

His scream didn't sound like him. It made his throat hurt and his entire body feel cold.

No.

No, no, no, no.

It was supposed to be him.

He was the one who should be dead right now.

And why wasn't he dead then?

Why were Evander and Georgie dead— and Hugh wasn't?

A pair of knees fell to the ground beside him. He turned around, mechanically, and he saw Kasumi, whose mouth was slightly open and her face had grown pale. Suddenly, instead of breaking down and crying like he thought she was about to do, she made her hands into fists, her jaw clenched, and after a blink, her eyes had turned into the bluest of blues he had ever seen.

Her scream was so guttural and so full of pain, she didn’t sound like her. Kasumi had never been able to make a wave that big out of nowhere in just one second and she had never used her powers with so much hate drawn all over her face full of tears that she didn’t seem to realize she was crying.

But with a simple flick of his wrist, Ace flipped the entire platform and created a barrier that protected him from the wave, breaking it and flooding the arena. Kasumi quickly tried to control the water to protect Evander’s corpse; he took advantage of that distraction to throw the platform at her.

And the only thing Kasumi could do was cry out and raise her arms to defend herself from the crushing weight that now was on top of her.

She didn’t even try to move or to run away. But he didn’t know if it was because it all happened so fast she didn’t have the time to do it—

Or because she simply didn’t want to.

Hugh looked up to the sky, searching for Tamaya. He expected to find her flying, keeping her distance, throwing bolts at her enemies, and when they were able to make eye contact, he would yell her name and ask her for help.

Not for him though.

For them. For Kasumi and Evander. Because each second that passed with Kasumi still under that platform, paralyzed and alone, and with Evander still at the mercy of whoever that passed and that could trip with him or kicked him, was a second that they were being—

Hurt.

But Hugh didn’t see her. She wasn’t anywhere he expected to find her, and he did his best to scan the whole sky, even if the little smoke that still remained in the area made it difficult for him to see.

Then, a dark thought clouded his mind.

Tamaya wasn’t reckless. Not anymore. She wouldn’t risk her life by staying on the ground, and she would know that the best way she would be able to help the rest of them was if she flew and got closer only in case they needed her help.

If she had stayed in the sky, she would have been able to see Evander blinding Ace with his powers. She would have seen Kasumi breaking down and her wave would have touched her wings. She would have known they needed her help long before Hugh did.

Then why wasn’t she there?

Why couldn’t he bring himself to lower his head and look for her in the ground?

Why was he so… numb?

Suddenly, Ace’s roar filled his ears. The villain had a knife buried on his left side, and when he tried to hit whoever had stabbed him, he wasn’t able to find them.

It wasn’t possible that someone had thrown a knife at him since the attack had clearly been from behind. And no one would be fast enough to get out of Ace’s reach and disappear before he realized he had been hurt.

Disappear.

And it was as if he could see him again. He was able to see him standing behind Ace, piercing him with his gaze, ready to push him, made him hit his face against the ground, and kill him himself. He could see his face—the face he had kissed thousands of times— contorted in anger even before his presence was revealed by Honey Harper, who screeched almost as if asking for his husband’s head, and sent every one of the creatures she had control over in his direction.

Simon cried in pain and, after flickering a couple of seconds, he curled into a ball, to protect his body from the bee’s dangerous stings.

An eerie beam of light flew over his head and made Honey Harper fall into a row of plastic chairs. Her bees suddenly lost interest in Simon and flew towards her, hearing their queen calling for someone’s name. When he looked around for whoever had attacked her, he recognized the Sentinel’s armor and noticed how he slowly lowered his arm, as if he couldn’t believe he had just shot someone right in the chest from that distance.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Leroy Flinn tossing a couple of Renegades who were about to attack him and running towards his ally to check on her as if he were one more of her bees who blindly followed her command. Ace watched the scene as the same time Hugh did, but instead of asking Cyanide if she was fine, or even trying to pretend he cared for her, he used his powers to pull his back out of his knife.

He pulled the knife out of his back, probably because he was too full of himself to realize that he could bleed to death if he did that.

Simon knew that. He would have done it himself if he only had time.

Simon knew a lot of things.

And Hugh saw in his eyes that he knew Ace was aiming at his throat when he threw his own weapon at him.

But before the knife touched any inch of Simon’s skin, a swarm of monarch butterflies covered him and Danna Bell used her forearm to knock it from the air.

The Renegades who were still on condition to fight started using their powers at maximum capacity to try to stop Ace Anarchy. Hugh began to walk around with his head low, looking for his weapon because that was the only thing the dark fog that made his body feel dizzy and his thoughts fuzzy allowed him to do.

Look for it.

Look for it, grab it, get up, and fight.

The spear was nowhere to be found. And Hugh didn’t feel like fighting anymore.

He wanted to lay on the floor. He wanted to lay on the floor with Tamaya, with Kasumi, and with Evander, close his eyes, and try to remember how he felt when they were kids and all of them slept together in the same giant bed. He would try to imagine the sound of their breaths and suffocate the yelling, the crying, and the screeching, to at least feel like he was falling asleep before someone came and finished the job for —not for Ace— but for him.

And if no one did, at least Hugh knew what he was going to do next.

His knees began to tremble and his feet refused to keep going. He saw the Silver Spear a couple of meters behind Ace. Maybe if he was able to get across those barriers Ace had built around him with his powers, he could use it.

He had never tried to use it to see if it could physically hurt him in a way that could potentially kill him.

But he could try.

Immediately after that, he noticed someone’s gaze was fixated on him. He looked at Ace but just at that moment, he was struck by a bolt of smoke, distracting himself by his own coughing.

Two hands covered with black gloves slightly touched his weapon and made it move towards him.

The same hands he had been wanting to hold for so long.

The same hands that belonged to the same person who hadn’t stopped looking at him after all this time.

Simon probably didn’t even notice what he did. When Hugh looked back at him, he wasn’t paying attention to him anymore; instead, he was trying his best not to keep slipping on the muddy ground while he stumbled his way out of there.

Simon was slipping through his fingers once again.

The difference was that this time when the Sentinel landed beside a kneeling Simon, hurt and full with stings on his face and neck, he knew he couldn’t let watching him go away be the last thing he did in his life.

Hugh didn’t like running after people when they decided to go because he would never want anyone to do it if it were him.

After all, leaving took a lot of strength. Someone following him would only make it so much harder.

And being the one who followed and was rejected at the end, was even worse.

But some people were worth following. Just one time. Just to make sure they really wanted to leave, or if they wanted to stay just as hard as one wanted them to.

Just so each other knew they haven’t given up on each other yet.

Because he would never give up on Simon; not even when Hugh had already given up on himself.

When he kneeled beside him, he just threw a glance at the Sentinel to try to figure out his intentions, but immediately centered all his attention on Simon.

The hell with the Sentinel.

“Simon, what happened?” he asked him, with his voice trembling as much as the ground did. “What’s wrong?”

And Simon—

Simon answered him.

“At least one of those hornets must have had Agent N—” their gazes met “—I’ve been neutralized.”

He bit his lips and lowered his head, almost as if he were apologizing for something.

But Hugh didn’t want him to apologize. He wasn’t the one who needed to do it.

That Simon was still his Simon. With or without powers.

Hugh put his arm around Simon. “We need to get you out of here. Can you stand?”

He expected Simon to flinch at his touch and ask him to get away from him as soon as he touched. What he didn’t expect was for him to completely ignore his question and his arm around him, and instead, ask him, “Have you seen Adrian?”

Hugh immediately tried to remember if he had seen him during the fight. But, to his horror, the last time he had seen Adrian had been the night he and his team discovered Nightmare’s true identity because he had been avoiding him during the last days.

Those things now seemed insignificant and petty compared with what was happening now.

First, he only shook his head, and while he helped him to get up, Simon’s eyes started to fill with tears. “We’ll find him,” he assured him. “He’s strong. He has to be fine.”

And it was a threat to the universe.

Simon tried to give a step, but his legs couldn’t hold the weight of his body, and he almost fell again. Hugh instinctively held him tighter. “I’m okay,” Simon quickly said, waving his hand. “It’s just…”

It’s just—

Hugh wanted to ask him: “It’s just what?”

But she hadn’t asked him that question. So he didn’t ask Simon either.

He did want an answer though.

And Simon was so good, he gave it to him.

“My whole body feels like it’s burning up from the inside out. Whatever venom those wasps have—”

Simon groaned and Hugh heard his words echoing in his mind.

Feeling.

At least you’re feeling.

You’re feeling, and that’s what matters.

Hugh tried to speak, but the Sentinel interrupted him before he could even say a word.

“Here, let me take him.” He frowned, and the Sentinel added, “You need to stop Ace Anarchy.”

He contemplated the Sentinel's armor, about to tell him to move and let him take his husband out of there.

Hugh didn't need to do anything.

The only thing he needed to do was to get Simon away from danger as quickly as possible.

But he would be lying.

Because deep in his heart, he knew he had to stop Ace Anarchy before he did anything else.

Not because he wanted to. It was because he had to.

That was the way it had always been.

He would like to hate the Sentinel for making that remark, but as soon as his eyes met with his helmet, he realized he had become one of those insignificant and petty things he couldn't believe had taken so much of his time.

And he had also saved Max.

Without him, Adrian wouldn't have had a little brother to kidnap, Hugh wouldn't have had two sons to worry about, and probably, a husband for the Anarchist to hurt.

“Thank you.”

He meant it.

He really meant it.

If the Sentinel smiled or felt something when he heard those words, he didn't show it. He moved towards them to help Simon put his weight on him, but as soon as he got close, he flinched and held Hugh tighter.

A lot more tighter.

With all his might.

Hugh looked him dead in the eye, and Simon did it too.

He would never forget how soft, yet determined, his voice sounded when he said those three words to him.

It was a plea and it was an order.

It was a question and it was an answer.

They were full of vulnerability and they were full of strength.

It was the first words he had really said to him in a long time but might as well become the last ones.

Simon said, “Don't get killed.”

Two realizations came to him at the same time.

The first one was that Simon's lips were slightly open after he said that.

And the second one was that he couldn't die yet.

Not because of the world. Not even because he was sure he wanted to keep living.

He needed to live because he had to find Tamaya to tell her he was sorry, even if he had to look for her on the ground. Because he needed to help Kasumi, ask her to forgive him too, and assure her she had been right all along. Because he needed to fulfill the silent promise he had made to Evander since the day he appeared on their life's door and protect him one last time.

He needed to see Max, hug him, and get him ready for bed.

He needed to talk to Adrian again and tell him he loved him, without him having to be the first one to do so.

And he needed to hold, touch, but above all, kiss the love of his life one more time, and make sure he would never again think Hugh didn't love him until his last breath, and that his last thoughts were all about him.

So he not only needed to live.

He had to live.

Just one last time, he had to live.

He had done it before; he would do it again.

“I'd like to see him try.”

***

The last thing Hugh saw before falling, was Adrian’s face.

And he looked small. Very small. And completely terrified.

He looked so terrified, that the few seconds he was falling, he could only think about all the horrible things Adrian and Max must be feeling, and not actually about what he was feeling.

But as soon as he realized that, he hit the ground.

At first, he did his best not to give up and stay awake for as long as possible. But he started wondering what Georgie felt when she fell from the sky. If she had looked like a shooting star. And he wondered if it was really her the one who appeared in front of him, wearing a golden cape. If it was really her when she held his face in her hands, caressing his cheeks without saying a single word, and kissed his forehead before getting up again and starting flying, and flying until he couldn’t see her anymore.

He also wondered if she would have been woken up by the pain had she survived the fall, just like he eventually did. If she would have also felt the instant relief everyone felt when they came to the realization that they were alive, just to immediately be followed up by guilt. Or what Georgie would have thought if she had stayed a little longer, just to ask him that one last time.

Where does it hurt?

Hugh would have told her the truth. Because of course he would have told her the truth. He would never lie to her. Not even when all he had done for the last ten years, had been lying to himself.

Everywhere.

It hurts everywhere.

She didn’t ask him anything though.

Not that he was mad at her for not doing so.

He just wondered what she would have thought.

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

some original nonsense

“I’m so glad I get to be here for this,” Eve practically flung herself onto the couch, bouncing slightly before settling. She’d just gotten dropped off after rehearsal and was miraculously still teeming with energy. 

Clara pursed her lips, an obvious attempt to cover up a smile. They’d spent the day helping Eli and Ann track down paperwork and somewhere between the borough hall and stopping at the deli for lunch had been seen by Oliver’s parents. Who forced him to introduce them to Clara and insisted she come for dinner. Ann managed to talk her way out of it by vague statements of “being with her family right now” that had the McNally’s cooing in understanding. Clara couldn’t manage the same without raising too many questions. At least not that quickly. 

So, she’d spent the evening at the farmhouse and then had herself talked into spending the night. The whole experience was odd, Clara settling somewhere between her true sharp self and the doe-eyed charming he’s seen her present herself as. Oliver had the sense that it was strange for her too and that Clara was navigating uncharted waters as she ate his mom’s chicken alfredo. 

But after dinner his parents retreated to the office that used to be the dining room, claiming to be going over paperwork but probably watching House Hunters or something. Leaving the living room to “the kids” which fit when Eve came barging in. 

“I was so worried you would be gone when I got home,” she told Clara, having latched on to the older girl a few days before. 

“I was somehow convinced to spend the night.” Clara narrowed her eyes, brows drawn low as she tried to puzzle out exactly how that had happened. It made her freckles scrunch up into an indistinguishable blur. 

Eve nodded sagely and began wrapping herself up in one of the afghans from over the back of the couch. “Yeah, they do that. It’s a weird quirk of being the ‘cool parents.’” Oliver knew by her tone that she was using air quotes but from the cocoon his sister had made herself it was hard to tell. 

Oliver finished tweaking the playlist he’d made, deciding to kill as many birds with one stone as possible, and pressed play. Rising from his crouch next to their entertainment center to go sit on the couch on Clara’s other side. The music began to play through the living room’s speakers and Eve giggled madly. 

Clara turned to give him the most suspicious look he’d ever seen, and that was saying a lot based on the past week’s events. “I know this song. Maybe. It sounds familiar.” 

Shaking his head, Oliver barely managed to contain his laughter. “Nope.”

The lyrics started and the look of baffled confusion that overcame Clara was the best thing he’d ever witnessed. She froze, shook her head slightly, narrowed her eyes, and then finally turned to him in betrayal. “When did this happen? I was just in Constantinople... When was I in Constantinople?” 

Eve squeaked, high and long as she inhaled. Unable to hold in her own laughter any longer. Oliver managed to remain silent though he was shaking and his stomach ached at the strain. 

“This isn’t funny,” Clara insisted. Her glare wasn’t that harsh though so Oliver didn’t relent. “Oliver!” she scolded. “It’s not funny!” 

“No, it’s hilarious,” he said between gasps of breath. “And it only gets better.” 

~

“Russia’s favorite love machine?” Clara looked like she was going to be sick. “I mean, I might have actually met Rasputin but honestly he was disgusting. And smelt terrible.” 

It was Oliver’s turn to look on in horror. “Of all the things you managed to miss, you met Rasputin?” 

“Possibly,” Clara said sheepishly. “It could’ve just been a drunk.” 

One day, Oliver would stop being shocked by things Clara said. But apparently not today. 

“Ok,” Eve interrupted, “but thoughts on the song?” 

“It’s... good?” 

The look of pure offense Eve gave her made Oliver want to whither and he was mostly immune at that point. Eve took a deep breath, seeming to recenter herself. “It’s a certified bop, Clara.” 

~

“Ok, I’m not an idiot. I know about the Battle of Waterloo. And I’ve read Les Misérables.” Clara was unimpressed by Abba. 

“You actually read Les Mis?” Eve clearly had her own priorities. 

Oliver might not really be into theater but Eve was and he managed to pick some things up. “Ok, hold on.” He tried to do some quick math, but just asking Clara would really be easier. “When did you just... stop following cultural events?” 

She shrugged. “I don’t know, some point after the second Great War?” 

Eve and Oliver shared a look, leaning forward so that they could do so. Eve’s expression said that either Oliver handle this or she would. And also, what the heck was he planning? 

“Ok, so World War II, not second Great War. Where did you even get that one?” he tried to be gentle. But honestly, what the heck?

Clara wrinkled her nose. “I’ve outlasted entire civilizations, Oliver,” she hissed. “Cut me some slack for forgetting some terms. English isn’t even my second or third language. And you people keep changing it.” 

Oliver lifted his hand in defense. “Ok, ok. Point taken. Still, did you not pay attention to the Broadway or West End theater scenes in the 1980s?” 

“No?” Clara turned to see if Eve might be any help. Her slightly manic look meant that probably not. 

“So, you didn’t know that Les Mis is a musical?” She gasped. 

Clara slowly shook her head. 

“Ollie!” Eve screeched, but he was already standing, going to shift through the many DVDs Eve had of various performances. 

~

“Bed,” their mom said, emerging from the office. Their dad had already headed upstairs sometime during One Day More and she was currently in her pajamas. 

Eve tilted her head up, shaking off the hand that Mom was combing through her hair. “But, it’s not over!” she whined. The drums of the finale refrain of Do You Hear the People Sing were starting up meaning that it would be over very shortly. 

“And you’ve seen it a million times and have school tomorrow. Bed,” she countered. 

“Clara’s never even seen Phantom!” Eve tried to counter, which they’d discovered when Eve began rambling about actors sometime during ABC Cafe. Oliver loved his sister, he hated that he knew the names of every song in Les Mis. 

“Clara can stay up and watch it with Oliver then. Or just visit another day,” Mom glanced to Oliver with an almost apologetic tilt to her smile. 

“I can come back,” Clara offered softly. The effect was immediate. Eve and his mom both had twin smiles of pure glee. Much like Ann a few years earlier, Oliver’s friend had been officially deemed another extension of the family. Well neither girl seemed to mind so far. 

Eve launched herself onto Clara in a hug, throwing her blankets to the floor and startling the blonde. Over Eve’s shoulder, he could see Clara’s pale eyes widen and it looked like she was trying very hard not to let her shock get the best of her. They’d managed to keep his parents in the dark about the whole “technically dead” bit but Eve passing right through Clara would kind of ruin the careful charade. 

“I’ll wait until next time for Phantom,” Oliver made it sound like a chore, but he knew Eve would be pissed not to be included. And the whole experience would be more enjoyable for Clara because the two girls had talked through the entirety of Les Mis about the characters and changes from the book. He was positive watching Phantom of the Opera would be the same. 

“You’re not a terrible human,” Eve said by way of thanks. 

Oliver shrugged and their mom rolled her eyes. She started ushering Eve towards the stairs as she said her goodnights. When it became clear that Eve was still occupied squeezing the unneeded air from Clara’s lungs, she gave up. “Don’t stay up too late you two. And Eve, your butt better be in bed by the time those credits stop.” 

Clara laughed and finally began to peel Eve’s arms off her. “You should listen to your mother,” she said kindly. 

“I’m going, I’m going.” 

“If you don’t leave now I will introduce Clara to Drunk Space Pirate without you,” Oliver threatened. 

Eve gasped and leapt to her feet. “You wouldn’t.” 

“I would.” 

The two stared each other down as Eve began backing towards the stairs, almost stumbling over the coffee table in the process. “I knew you like The Mechanisms.” 

Oliver smirked. “Space operas, Eve.” 

His sister huffed and ran upstairs. Clara started laughing softly. “What was that about?” 

“I’ll explain later. I think the novelty of being a ghost would be ruined if I became one too, which would happen if I explained without Eve.” 

“Your sister does seem capable of murder,” Clara agreed. 

“I feel like all the women in my life are?” 

“Yes.” 

Oliver started cracking up at that. Clara joined him. It felt cathartic in light of... everything. Then they remembered that the rest of the house had been going to sleep so they tried to hush each other. Only to laugh more. 

Finally, they sobered and Oliver went to go get his laptop. “Do you know literally anything about the band Nirvana?” 

Clara blinked. “Do you enjoy asking questions you know the answer to?” 

Barking a short laugh, Oliver came back over to sit next to her again. “Ok, fair. But I’m going to play an ironic critic of how people respond to the lead singer’s death for you now.” 

“Why?” Clara asked incredulously. 

“I really just want to see what someone so totally removed from the situation thinks of this song.” Oliver shrugged. 

“You are very strange.” 

“And you shouldn’t throw stones.”

[timelock97]

Love Without A Name

Chapter Ten: Pictures Emerge

Word Count: 4118

Masterlist

Warnings: Language and Anxiety

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

The next two months moved in a blur. Tom and I bought a place together, moved in, and I had started a new job not far from it. The flat was actually in the same building as the original.

"We are still neighbors, Haz!"Tom laughs as he carries in a box from the hallway inside the new flat.

Harrison groans, setting down his load as I tag along behind him,"You two could have, I don't know, found a different building?"

"But if we had done that then this would have been ten times worse!" Tom smirks, setting down his box labeled 'Kitchen' on the island.

"And think about it Haz," I hum, lifting myself on the counter to sit, "now if you two hang out, when you're sick of him you can just send his ass home."

Harrison laughs and gives me a high five while Tom whines out a, "Heeeeeeey."

The place was pretty spacious, leaving two bedrooms left to be furnished in the future when my family, or Tom's friends, decided to come visit. (Or we decided we wanted to maybe start trying for kids.) The master bedroom was a lot bigger, and included a master bath which Tom and I enjoyed having. We did eventually get a bigger bed, but only after did it became less occupied, especially since the pet beds had been set up.

It took some time for Tom and I to figure out what our style was together. But it was nice to be able to decorate and furnish the place the way we wanted it; which ended up just being cozy and homey (with lots of colorful pieces to displace the black and white furniture). The walls were slowly starting to become decorated in photos from the wedding and our honeymoon, as well as pictures of our family and friends. It had really started to become a home.

"You three need to come and visit," I whine as I pull the phone further from my face where I was laying on the couch.

"When we have time, and money." Mae smiles, Joyce nodding behind her.

"Yeah, who do you think we are?" Celine teases, shifting in the background.

"Uh, duh, my best friends; but anyways, Tom and I are officially moved into the apartment now, and I started my new job last week." I hum, thinking about the small clinic not far down the road.

"I heard!" Mae laughs, Joyce suddenly laughing in the background. "Mom was talking to yours and said you two had almost burned down the apartment, twice I think."

I sheepishly smile before holding up three fingers, causing the girls to erupt with laughter and call out my name. "Okay, it's not my fault. We like to have music playing in the apartment and well, a few times it's a nice slow song and Tom wants to slow dance so we do and we got distracted." I giggle, shaking my head softly. "On the plus side, the owner of the pizza place knows our order by heart."

The girls are laughing so hard that Celine actually falls of her couch. "You literally are living the dream, (Y/N)." When she finally makes her way back on the couch she motions for me, "You never did give us a tour!"

"Yes! We wanna see the house!" Joyce yells, Mae's eyes falling wide at her excitement.

I stand, giggling at them before I begin to walk around the apartment, telling them about all the different places, narrating from behind the camera. In the process of this, Tom had actually come home and was just watching from behind me as I talked about the master bedroom. He eventually laughed at me, asking what I was doing, which go the response of "I'm giving a house tour!"

He leans on the door frame, arms folded over his chest, "Over Skype?"

"Yup!" I giggle, pointing the camera at him, "Look, it's my husband!" a chorus of 'hellos' come from the speaker.

"Hello, ladies!" He laughs, waving before walking out of the room, but not before adding, "You're a strange one, darling."

"You married me, that's your own fault." I call back, moving into the hallway again to show off the extra, empty rooms, "Stuck with me forever."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, my love."

I smile, the girls cooing about how cute we are. Eventually I end the call and join him in the kitchen. I wrap my arms around his waist and lay my head down on his back. "How was your meeting?"

"Good," he sighs, placing his hands on top of mine, "we discussed when filming would start." There is a slight pause before he adds, "going to be earlier than expected."

"How soon?" I mumble, squeezing him closer to me.

He takes in a deep breath, almost as if he is braving for the worst before muttering out, "Two weeks."

"For how long?"

"About a month and a half," he takes one of my hands in his, lacing them together, "then I'll be back in London for the rest of shooting." The tone in his voice tells me that he is worried about how I'll react; but, it's his job, nothing I could do about it.

"Not bad," I hum, squeezing him before letting go to wander over to the fridge. I stand in front of it, deciding on out of everything in the fridge, what I could make and begin to pull it out. The only problem, Tom picks everything that I take out and keeps returning them to the fridge. "You're being very counterproductive, Tommy. I need to cook dinner," I laugh.

He smirks, "Well, if you would have asked I would have told you that I ordered take-out and that you didn't need to cook dinner." He sasses, causing me to hum in response tugging me into his arms. "It should be here in a few minutes." He smiles, leaning down to pepper my face in soft kisses, making me giggle.

I move away from him slightly, noticing the slight pout on his lips, "So since we have some time to kill, can I tell you some stories from today?" Tom smiles and nods as I begin to ramble on about some of the more entertaining things that had happened at the clinic; of course, not exposing any of the kids' personal information to him while doing so. While I ramble, Tom nods along and hums in all the right places, but I can tell he really has no clue about what I am talking about.

"You're cute when you talk about all this smart stuff that I cannot even fathom." He chuckles, leaning on the counter and shaking his head.

"Cute enough to convince you to help me build something for one of my kids to help with his treatment?" I bat my eyes at him, causing a laugh to fall from his lips.

"I'd love to help you, lovey." He nods, leaning down to kiss me, but is interrupted by the buzzer going off. He sighs, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead before untangling himself from me, "Get a movie and drinks while I get the food?"

"I got it." I smile, moving back to the fridge, "Beer?"

"Please," he calls as he makes his way over to the front door, leaving it cracked as he heads to the lobby.

I walk around the kitchen, refilling my water bottle before heading to the living room. Tessa and Phoebe are sleeping in the large dog bed, snuggled together. I smile and snap a picture, which I have plenty of already, before I switch on the t.v. and scroll through Netflix. I settle for the Princess Bride, simply because we had planned to watch it last time but ended up watching Infinity War because we wanted to count and talk about the funny scenes; and so Tom could shield my face and yell so I didn't hear Peter's dusting scene ('Because I can't get enough of that laugh, my love!'). I smile when he returns with the take-out bags and sets it down on the coffee table.

"Princess Bride, nice. Go ahead and play it, lovey."

"As you wish," I giggle noticing Tom's lips turn up in the corners.

"Isn't that supposed to be the prince's line-"

"Technically, he is a servant boy-"

"He's her prince charming-"

"I know, baby," I giggle, catching his face in my hands. "And you're mine."

Tom rolls his eyes but leans in and captures my lips in a kiss, "That was cheesy, (Y/N)."

"It was supposed to be." I mutter into his mouth before pulling away and settling into his side. "Food?"

"Yup, only the best take-out for the best last-minute-improvised date-"

"So this is a date?" I giggle, looking up at him.

Tom looks up at the ceiling and playfully groans, "I'm trying to be romantic!" He whines, making me laugh.

"I'm sorry, I just love teasing you. And I love you, sooo..."

"I love you too." He mutters, kissing my nose. We look at each other for a few minutes until we realize that we missed the first ten minutes of the movie.

"Will you rewind that?" I laugh as he leans away to grab the remote.

"As you wish," he mutters while wiggling his eyebrows at me, causing me to laugh behind him. Oh was a perfect, last-minute-improvised date.

~

"Okay, what are you thinking we do for supper?" I ask, Paddy walking beside me, phone pressed firmly into his hand.

"Uh, something with chicken...?" He looks over at me as I grab a cart, pursing his lips slightly. "Also, can we grab something that I can take for lunch for the summer program?"

"Yeah, if you have anything in mind, go grab it. I'm thinking chicken stir-fry, that okay?"

"Like what you made the night you and Tom first moved in? Yes, please."

I laugh, ruffling his hair as I point him in the direction of a few other things I would need for the upcoming week. He smiles as he takes his part of the list and wonders down the familiar aisles. I mutter ingredients under my breath and stand in front of a display of veggies, pulling my hair out of its ponytail and letting it fall again, massaging my scalp to get the roots to stop tingling before grabbing peppers and onions. As I walk to go get wild rice and chicken, Paddy runs over and places a few things in the cart, only to dart off again to grab something else.

The sound of my phone going off in my backpack causes me to knit my eyebrows together in confusion. I swing it in front of me before pulling out my cell phone, Hazel's name and number illuminating the screen. I smile as I answer, "Hazel! How are you?"

"I'm good!" Hazel's voice chirps from the receiver. "How has everything been?"

"Good," I hum, stopping as I grab a loaf of bread, only to grab another. "Tom's working, I'm working, and we got and moved into the flat." I let out a content sigh, "Everything is just really good."

"I'm glad! I was just calling to check in, make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, doing really well. I'm just shopping with Paddy, he's staying the week with me cause his folks are on vacation and the twins are doing projects out of the country."

"So not alone, that's good."

"Yeah," I laugh, noticing Paddy standing in the magazine aisle, holding one in his hand.

"Oh, sorry to cut this short! A client just walked in, I didn't realize it was that close to time. Have a good day!"

"You too!" I smile, hanging up before maneuvering the cart into the aisle and over to Paddy. "You find everything you needed, Pads?"

"Uh, almost, but I noticed this." He hands me the magazine. It's a common gossip magazine. Except, one of the bubbles has the caption, 'Marvel Actor, Tom Holland, spotted on vacation with potential girlfriend?' the picture was blurry, but I could tell that it had been taken while Tom and I had been at the airport in Florida. "Do you think we should tell Tom?"

I nod, but only take a quick picture of the article and front page before replacing it on the shelf. "I'll call him while we make dinner." Paddy nods, quipping out a quick 'I'm going to grab one last thing,' before running off again. I get in line and begin to unload my cart, noticing a few teens looking at the magazine, whispering. Once Paddy is back at my side, I nudge him further into the line, "Can you unpack the front?" He only nods, glancing in the direction of the giggling girls. Thankfully the two of us make it out of the store without any questions and walk the few blocks back to the apartment.

While Paddy goes to sit in the living room to sit with Tess and Phoebe, I unpack and start cooking. Once I had everything set up, I grab my laptop and make sure Skype is set up before texting him and seeing if he was busy.

-----

Spooderman<3

Just taking a break

I would love to hear from you

My Princess

I'm hoping you can skype?

It's important

Spooderman<3

Of course

-----

I text him the pictures before starting the call, hoping he has his computer too. And from the way he has his head tilted down when he answers, tells me, thankfully, he does. "Hi, baby."

His head snaps up, giving me a bright smile. "Hey, lovey. Are you okay? I just got those pictures."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Uh, Paddy found them while we were at the market, so I wanted to make sure you knew."

"I'll call my agent and see if there is any way to clear it up; it should be up to us to tell everyone, not some tabloid."

I nod at him, moving the laptop to the other counter so I can go back to cooking. "Okay, do you think I should worry about it at all?"

"No, no one should bother you, and if they do call Harrison or Tuwaine. They can come get you and tell my fans that you are a friend of ours until I get back and we can talk more about it." He shakes his head, his hands falling back to his phone. "I'm going to call my agent really quick, it shouldn't take too long."

I let out a hum as I continue cooking, Tom placing his phone to his ear. As he talks, I can tell he is annoyed, noting the way that he repeats 'There really is nothing that can be done?' back into the speaker. I move out of frame to wash the veggies while Tom continues to talk quietly. Finally, I can hear him hang-up, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Baby, its fine. We'll be okay." I tell him, noticing him shake his head.

"I just don't want it to escalate while I am away." His hand going to his hair as he pushes it out of his face, "My fans can be a bit much."

"I'll be fine, like you said I can just call the boys. Actually," I lean into the frame, giving Tom a bright smile. "Guess who is sitting in our living room right now?"

Tom lets out a hum, placing a hand over his mouth in 'deep' thought. "Well, I know it's not Sam or Harry; maybe my Mum?"

"Nope," I giggle, only for Tom's eyes to go wide and he lets out a loud laugh.

"Uh, (Y/N)?" I turn and start to giggle at Paddy, who is leaned slightly forward so Phoebe won't fall off his shoulders where she is perched. "I need help, I think she is stuck."

"Oh Phoebes, you sure have gotten yourself into a pickle, huh?" I walk over and help the cat declaw herself from Paddy's shoulder.

"So I am going to make a second attempt and say it was Paddy in our living room." Tom teases once Paddy is free.

He walks over and places himself on the counter across from the stove, smiling at his brother. "Mum and Dad are on holiday, so (Y/N) and I are hanging out."

"Having fun?"

Paddy nods, going into a long, in depth explanation of what we had done the past few days.

When Nikki had asked if he could stay, I panicked. However, it was only because Tom and I hadn't set up the other rooms. Nikki assured me that he would be fine, but after an afternoon of checking some second hand shops (because I still wasn't comfortable shopping for big things without Tom, cause it's a lot more from his paycheck than mine); we found a nice bedroom set. Tom's parents were so thankful, especially since he had some summer programs that he wanted to attend. But, we were family now, and family meant that we helped each other out.

I smile watching the two of them interact. Tom nodding and telling Paddy about things that were happening on his end as well; but, it didn't take long for someone to pop their head into Tom's trailer to tell him he had to be back on set.

"I have to go, you be good, Pads. And, love?" Tom looks at me with an expression that screams a lot more than just 'I love you'; it says 'I'm worried', 'I miss you', 'I want to be home', and 'God, I just need to hold you'.

"Yes, Tom?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He leans closer to the screen, "Please call someone if something happens, okay? I want you safe."

"I will, you stay safe too."

He smiles before giving us both one last wave, ending the call; the black screen reminding me that I had a lot of time till he would really be home.

I stretch my arms over my head before clapping my hands and look at the youngest Holland. "You know, if you help me, this'll be done a lot sooner-"

He hops off the counter, moving toward the sink ready to wash his hands, "How can I help?" ~

I was up most of the night. I could feel the anxiety creeping in my chest, like when you know you have a test the next day that you wish you would have studied a little harder for but you didn't and now it's too late. I got up several times during the night, the last straw being at three forty-seven in the morning. There was no way I was going to fully fall asleep, so I got up and decided to make myself a cup of tea. While the kettle was getting hot, I began looking up any other articles about Tom and I on the internet.

Stories about the blurry photos of Tom and I were surfacing everywhere. Eventually, I turned on my Instagram and started to scroll through the explore page, finding a few fan pages with the blurry photo as well; but besides that nothing. I let out a sigh of relief, only to jump at the sound of the kettle going off. I quickly make the cup before retreating to the couch, turning on Netflix, where I eventually fell asleep.

It wasn't until Tessa nudged my hand and lapped a couple kisses to my face did I wake up an hour later. I sigh, rolling off the couch and slipping my feet into a pair of shoes, which in my half-asleep state, I was unsure if they were mine or Tom's. Once Tessa was taken care of, I prep breakfast and let Tess into Paddy's room to wake him.

"It's too early," he whines as Tessa laps at his face.

"Well, I have to get to work, and your thing doesn't start for a few more hours." I state, getting ready to walk away, but not before adding, "I'm making breakfast." I can hear him groan again, but with the creak of the mattress as well. I smile, making my way down the hall to finish cooking.

Paddy gives me a quick hug before walking up the street to his friend's house as the two of us leave the flat. "I'll text you when I get there; you want me at the clinic after or to head to the flat?"

"Only head to the flat if someone is willing to drop you off," he scoffs as I continue, "I know, I know. You're old enough to do things on your own but for my paranoid mind-"

"I'll keep you in the loop, promise." He nods, pulling his backpack straps away from his body as he walks backwards. "I'll see you; love you, (Y/N)!"

"Love you too, Pads!" I giggle, turning the opposite way and walking to work. The whole way I check around my surroundings. Once I am in the parking lot I notice a car sitting in the far end of it. I raise an eyebrow at it before entering, calling out a quick 'good morning' to the Wilma working at the front. She smiles at me as I pass to set my stuff in the group office before checking my caseload for the day. Today will be a good day, I remind myself.

When I finally make it home, Harrison and Paddy are sat comfortably on the couch eating pizza. "Hey, boys," I hum, rubbing the top of Paddy's head before hugging Haz over the back of the couch, "Thank you, I appreciate this-"

"Not a problem, also, Tom filled me in on your situation."

"Well, I'm glad for that-"

Paddy cuts me off, mouth still full of cheesy goodness, "And I told him that you are on edge because of it-"

"Thanks, Paddy." I roll my eyes as I walk into the kitchen and grab a slice of pizza before making my way down the hallway and change out of my scrubs. Finally in comfy clothes, I return to the kitchen and grab another piece before jumping on the couch with the boys to watch the movie with them.

As the night gets later, Harrison helps me clean up while Paddy gets ready for bed. Harrison watches me as I move, and he notices the way I keep glancing at my phone. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just-" I cut myself off to rub my hand down my face, "Worried. I don't know."

"You shouldn't have to, but we are here if you need anything, I swear."

"And I hope you know that I really appreciate that."

Harrison smiles, carefully tugging me into his arms to hug me. It's comforting, and it reminds me of my brothers. I should call them soon, I miss them. I squeeze him a little tighter before letting him go. He lets out a small sigh before stating that he should probably head back to his flat, he had to be up early the next morning. I walked him out, locking the door behind him since he had taken the liberty earlier to take Tess out for her 'before bed wee'.

Paddy comes back to the living room to say goodnight, hugging me tightly before making his way down the hall, Phoebe hot on his heels. I rub my hands over my face as I scroll through my phone, checking my usual apps before bed.

While back on the explore page on Instagram, I notice a new picture. No, several new pictures.  Most were far away, but I could one-hundred percent tell it was us; especially the ones from Disney. I bite my lip as I read the caption of a cluster of photos. They were when Tom and I were at Epcot, most likely in Germany because he had a beer in hand that in one of the pictures I took a sip from.

Thought I was crazy, but now that I have seen the pictures on People Magazine, I can 100% confirm that @tomholland2013 had to have been on a vacation with his secret girlfriend.

I shake my head before deciding to close out of the app and head to bed. I grab one of Tom's sweaters off the dresser where it had been thrown weeks ago, and pull it under the covers with me. I nuzzle my face into the fabric and send a little prayer to whoever is listening to help me sleep.

Just let me sleep, and I can pretend that everything is okay.

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

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! Reblog and comment! I hope this upcoming week you have the best time.

@revenantwriting | @bellagrayson-wayne | @jackiehollanderr | @snowxbarryxendgame | @let-me-luve-you | @mybitchborky | @linnyalou | @fanficscuziranout​ | @literallytrashhhhhh | @akweenbitch | @marveltomjunkie | @infinitycaprogers

[chicgeekgirl89]

Beer Run

A/N: I just had to you guys. I HAD TO.

“Just go get beer from the bar baby. It’s closer than the store baby. Please baby?” Deeks mimicked Kensi’s voice as he used his keys to unlock the door of the bar.

They’d come home to find the house devoid of food and drink of any kind. It had been Kensi’s week to shop and it should have been her responsibility to go out and forage for dinner and beer, but she’d smiled at him and whispered some things in his ear and here he was at 11:00 pm on a Sunday night, stealing beer from his own bar.

He opened the back door and was surprised to find the all the lights still on. “Seriously Mama?” he grumbled as he walked into the back room. “How hard is it to turn off the lights when you leave? It’s literally on the closing checklist. I swear I should have hired some college student, at least they’d be cheaper.”

There was a thump from the dining room. Deeks froze, his hand going automatically to his hip, which was void of his duty weapon because Kensi had relieved him of it, along with a few other items of clothing, while she was convincing him to come down here.

He looked around and grabbed a bottle of tequila, realized how much it cost, and put it back, grabbing a cheaper bottle instead. There was another thump as he crept toward the door. Where the hell was Callen? What good was it to have a special agent sleeping over your bar if he didn’t show up in an emergency?

Taking a deep breath he shoved the kitchen door open and burst into the dining room. “All right! Show me your hands!” he yelled.

There was an extremely loud thump and a squeal from behind the pool table. “Nice and slow,” Deeks yelled as a head began appearing over the edge. “That’s—MAMA?!”

“Martin?” His mother’s face was flushed, her hair tousled.

“Mama, what the he—ARKADY?!” he yelped as a second face popped up.

“Hello Martin.” Arkady buttoned his shirt and helped Roberta to her feet. “Is nice to see you this evening.”

“Wha—“ Deeks stared at the two of them, trying to make his brain catch up. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Well, dear, I was just, closing up the bar…” Roberta began, still trying to fix her hair.

“From on top of the pool table?!” Deeks cried.

“Arkady came over to talk about karaoke night,” Roberta said calmly.

“Karaoke night? What karaoke night? We don’t have karaoke night.”

“Well that’s why we were talking about it. Arkady had the idea to start one. I think it would be a great moneymaker for the bar, a draw for the younger crowd.”

“Yes it would be very profitable for you,” Arkady broke in. “I would host evening and all the people would have so much fun. Brings in college students.”

“It’s really brilliant. There’s nothing like it in this neighborhood,” Roberta told him.

“Okay, yeah maybe we could table that for a staff meeting,” Deeks said. “Mama how do you even know Arkady?”

“Well Arkady comes in to visit your friend Callen who lives upstairs,” Roberta said. “And occasionally he stays for a drink. We started chatting and one thing led to another and…”

“Your mother is very interesting woman,” Arkady said with a bright smile. “She has many talents.”

Deeks’ head was spinning. “So you…the two of you you’re…together?”

“Well we don’t like to put labels on it,” Roberta said. “We’re just enjoying ourselves.”

“On my pool table,” Deeks said. “Oh god. I’m gonna be sick.”

“Federal agent!” The door to the upstairs crashed open and Callen appeared, gun drawn.

“Oh my god!” Roberta jumped as Arkady pulled her close.

“Do not shoot Callen!” Arkady said loudly, a hand outstretched as if that would stop a bullet. “It is only I, your good friend Arkady and bar manager Roberta.”

“Oh for the love of…now is when you decide to come down here?” Deeks asked.

“Arkady?” Callen holstered his weapon. “What’s going on?”

“Apparently, thanks to you, Arkady is…he’s…” Deeks couldn’t finish his sentence.

“Oh for god’s sake Martin, Arkady and I are just getting to know one another,” Roberta said with a roll of her eyes.

“ALL. OVER. MY. POOL TABLE,” Deeks said through gritted teeth.

“Oh,” Callen said, clearly wishing he’d stayed upstairs.

“Oh? That’s what you have to say?” Deeks rounded on him. “You’re the freaking bar security system. I let you live here so we don’t have this kind of problem!”

“You let me live here because I pay rent,” Callen pointed out.

  “Maybe we should just go home,” Roberta said.

“Oh no. No, no, no,” Deeks said. “No one is going anywhere until we talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Callen asked. “Roberta and Arkady are two consenting adults.”

“Not helping, you are not helping!” Deeks hissed at him.

“Martin, quite frankly it’s not your business who I’m seeing. I don’t know why we have to have this conversation every time I’m with someone new,” Roberta said.

“Okay first of all it’s my business because you’re my mom. Second of all it’s my business because you’re doing it IN MY BAR after hours!”

“All right, fine, we’ll see each other somewhere else. Will that make you happy?”

“No it will not! Mama you don’t know a single thing about Arkady!”

“Of course I do! He’s an excellent singer. Very fond of Russian vodka.” She looked at him fondly.

“Is only good kind of vodka. All other vodka is for weak men,” Arkady said.

“He’s also a very good dancer,” Roberta added. “And a good listener.”

“You are too kind,” Arkady said giving her a kiss.

“Okay, nope, no, enough of that.” Deeks pushed his way in between them. “You’ve reached your quota for tonight.”

“Well I think it’s very sweet,” Callen said. “You have my blessing.”

“No, what? No blessings! No good feelings of any kind!” Deeks said.

Arkady was beaming. “I knew I could count on best friend Callen!”

“I think that’s my cue,” Callen said. “Goodnight everyone.”

“And it’s our cue too,” Roberta said. “Goodnight Martin, I’ll see you on Tuesday. Arkady, you’ll come in to talk more about this brilliant karaoke idea?”

“Of course,” Arkady said. “My time is always available for you, lovely woman.”

“We should have you sing at the wedding,” Roberta said.

“It would be my honor,” Arkady said seriously.

They left arm in arm, still chatting away. Deeks looked around. What the hell had just happened?

 “What took you so long?” Kensi asked when Deeks finally walked in the door. She’d given up waiting for him in bed and had thrown on sweatpants so she could hang out with Monty on the couch. “Where’s the booze?”

 Deeks looked down at his empty hands. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Kensi raised her eyebrows. “You’re gone for an hour and you come back with…no beer?”

“I….” He sank down onto the couch and dropped his head into his hands.

Kensi sat up, now growing legitimately concerned. “Deeks? Baby. Hey! What’s going on?”

“Ardy,” he mumbled.

“What?” Kensi asked. “I can’t hear you.”

He raised his head. “Arkady.”

“Arkady?” Kensi shook her head in surprise. That definitely wasn’t a name she’d expected to hear tonight. “Huh?”

By the time he’d spilled out the entire story Kensi felt like she was going to burst from not laughing. She clapped a hand over her mouth and tried to hold it in. “How can you laugh about this?” he asked, aghast.

“Because it’s a little funny,” she said.

  “It is not funny! My mother is using my bar as some kind of sex palace! And Callen’s just letting it freaking happen!”

She couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I just wish I had been there,” she gasped. “Your face must have been priceless!”

He got to his feet in a huff. “Well thanks for the support.”

“Oh no, oh baby come on!” She followed him into the kitchen. “I’m sorry. It must have been very upsetting.”

“Yeah, a little bit.”

“Do you want to go have revenge sex on your mom’s couch to get back at them?”

“No.” He thought for a moment. “Maybe.”

She put her arms around his waist. “It’s going to be all right. It’s just going to take a little adjustment.”

“Adjustment to what?”

“Well,” she smiled and tenderly brushed his hair back from his face, “adjustment to the fact that Arkady is going to be your new daddy.”

He glared at her. “I hate you.”

“You don’t, you love me!” she yelled after him as he stalked from the room. She looked down at Monty. “He loves me. And his new daddy.”

[1d-sexualdesires]

Happy Halloween!

“Harry, is this even allowed?”

Or Harry is a prince, Y/N is a fairy, and he’s kind of in love with her.

There is a dimension to this world that many aren’t privy of seeing. A lot like Harry Potter’s wizarding world, there are portals or ways of getting to see the alternate existence. She lives in this world, she’s a fairy, all the females in her family were fairies and they had the fortune of working for royalty. Well, they technically made them royalty because out of all the people in the world who were bound to fairies, Anne’s family had always been one of the most gracious and kind. Some fairies had it bad, their masters were ruthless and exploitive, but that wasn’t the case for her family, ever. Fairies cannot change masters either, so once your family is bound to one you will be in each other’s lives forever, unless they turn you away, it’s a generational thing.

For example, Y/N’s great, great, great, great grandmother found Anne’s great, great, great grandfather in the woods one day. His horse had slid off the road and he was hurt, if he didn’t get out surely he would be eaten off by wolves. So she helped him, she mended his leg and sent him home. He came to look for her every chance he got because he wanted to say thank you, it was for a good year or so and she was just giving him really good fortune for his gratitude. He was emerging as a leader, but that didn’t change his gratefulness and humility, so she revealed herself to him once more and he took her home to his wife and kids and she just kept showing up and being helpful. The future generations are then taught that the fairy is like a nanny, she helps and has special abilities. Humans bond emotionally to them, like they would a friend and if the fairy feels the same affection, they can bind to their families. So, several generations later Y/N’s mum has started working at their palace, as her mom has retired from her duties.

“Hello darling, how are you today?” Anne greets as Y/N comes in with a tray of her breakfast.

“I am doing pretty well! How about you?” she asks as she sets everything down before her.

“I’m also doing well. Just getting busy preparing for this coronation.” She sighed and Y/N nodded.

“Gemma will be a great queen.” Y/N assured her.

“No doubt about that!” Anne smiled.

“Speaking of the coronation. Harry seems to have grown another foot in the last year,” she exaggerated, “could you please fit him and sew him a new suit for the ball when you have time?” She asked and Y/N nodded.

“Yes, of course I can. I was just going to draw up some menu samples for you and Gemma today.” Y/N said.

“Alright, let’s do that another time and just have you work on that suit. He is in desperate need for one. Don’t know what he was wearing off in university, you should see how ragged his clothes are.” Anne said, brows raised as if still surprised and Y/N just giggled.

“I’ll go do that.” She said heading out of the room.

“He’s at the stables!” She called out and so Y/N headed out there.

Her and Harry grew up together, just like Anne and her mom grew up together. So as kids they would play and got tutored together and went to the same schools, but since Y/N was a fairy and not everyone knew that, she tended to be a bit more of an outcast, but he was always very inclusive of her. So when he left to university and they lost some touch it was a bit sad, but he returned earlier in the summer with his Master’s degree and was back at the castle for good. But their friendship had been affected by the years.

“Harry?” Y/N called into the stable, when she wasn’t busy she would spend lots of time with the horses too, they were cute.

“I’m with Onyx!” He called out and she headed over to his horse’s pen, sure enough he was there, brushing her after their morning ride. That horse loved Harry, so much so that she got depressed when he was gone for a week, they had to transport her to a ranch near the city so that Harry could visit her. “Hey, Y/N.” He said looking up from Onyx.

“Hey.” She said, petting at Onyx’s muzzle gently, “Your mom said you need a new suit and I’m supposed to make it for you. When can you get fitted?” She asked.

“Like an hour? Need to shower and have some breakfast, m’starving.” He said and she smiled, her helpful nature shining through.

“Do you want something in particular, I can go prepare it?” She asked and he hummed.

“Yeah, I want one of those big breakfast plates from that diner in the village.”

“Oh, alright. Should I go get it?” She asked and he poked out from around Onyx.

“No, I can go. Give me twenty minutes and you can come and I’ll buy?” he said smiling and she shrugged.

“Deal.”

Alright.” He said, patting at Onyx’s back before hurrying out of the stable.

Y/N didn’t like Harry, she just thought he turned out rather attractive. I mean, his parents are beautiful people, obviously he would be attractive, but man as soon as he turned 18 he became as beautiful as an angel. She sighed, snapping her fingers and appeared in her bedroom where she freshened up, went to tell Anne she was off to breakfast with Harry, and that they’d fit him as soon as they got back.

Harry however, did like Y/N. He thought she was gorgeous and not having her be able to come to university was a pain for a long while. His liking towards her had diminished to a crush, but never fully went away. Some part of him was convinced that she had cast some spell on him. But she just seemed professional around him now, their friendship hadn’t been maintained. After being home for a few months he figured it was time to change that.

****

“This place I missed the most.” He said and she smiled, letting him take a sip of his coffee. “Remember, we would come here after school all the time?” He asked and Y/N nodded.

“Oh, I remember.” She said and he chuckled.

“So, you still seeing that Roger, fellow?” He asked and she shook her head.

“He wanted to get married already. I’m only 24, I’ll stop aging at 30… people aren’t as understanding anymore. I’m just not ready.”

“He didn’t know?” Harry said softly and she shook her head.

“I tried to tell him a few times… but it just never seemed to work out so I ended it.”

“Do you think you’ll ever get married?” He asked and she shrugged.

“Seems harder now and besides, I’ve got you guys. Practically a leech, but my magic tricks come in handy, no?” She said grinning and he nodded, smiling at her sweetly. She looked down into her mug, stirring slowly.

Harry took the moment to appreciate her, she was beautiful. Her eyes were crinkled at the corners from her smile and she looked so soft in her oversized sweater, he just wanted to stand up, slide into her side of the booth and hug her.

“Just out of curiosity,” he started, causing her to glance up, “can the bond between your family and mine, can it end? Or break?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yeah, fairies bond for life, even romantically. So if one day you just wanted to get rid of me you just need to tell me you don’t want me anymore.” She informed.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” She repeated and he nodded in understanding, “but don’t go getting any ideas, Harry.” She warned and he smiled.

“Trust me, I don’t want you gone ever.” He said genuinely. That made Y/N’s heart feel warm and full. Not even a minute later they had brought them their food and Harry impatiently scarfed it down.

****

“Hold still!”

“If you fucking poke me-”

“If you don’t hold still I guarantee you will get poked.” Y/N warned.

“Y/N, you’re making me nervous.” Harry said softly. She was currently fitting him into the pants for his new suit. Harry’s issue was that she was working on his inner thigh.

“Have I ever poked you or anyone in your family before?” She asked, bunching up the excess fabric.

“There’s a first time for everything!” He said looking down at her, and it really did something to him to see her kneeling, face level with his prick and her hands at his thigh. “Fuck me.” He mumbled because of that and she scoffed.

“Keep it up and I will poke you on purpose!” She warned and he bit his lip, he was really trying to stop his cock from budging up, “M’almost done.” She assured him, literally not even a minute later she was pressing herself back up to her feet and she inspected her work before looking to him. “How do they feel now? Not too tight?” She asked and he shook his head.

“They feel really good.” He nodded.

“Tighter fits look really nice on you, I must say. Also, burgundy is a very nice color on you.” She complimented and he smiled proudly.

“Thanks, I’m glad you dissuaded me from sticking to black. I like this a lot.” He said looking himself over in the three-face mirror as Y/N looked on.

“For the jacket, I’m going to add some beading, just at the cuff, it’ll be great!” She said and he nodded.

“I like that idea.” He said and she smiled.

“Good! I should be done with it later today, I’ll drop by for the final fitting?” She said and he nodded. “Now let me help you out of the pants.” She said, dropping to her knees once more.

“Y’know, s’good that you didn’t go into sewing, you’d have everyone out of business considering it only took you a few days to get a whole suit together.” He said and she rolled her eyes playfully.

“Right, it would be like cheating.” She said, humoring him. Soon he was off and she went back to doing what she did best.

****

It was unintentional. An accident, but before she could hear or see anything else she had snapped her fingers and appeared in her room.

“Oh my god…” she whispered, her hands flying up to her face, but closing her eyes only made it worse. She could see far more, her mind burning with images of him groaning, fist moving lethargically over himself as his head fell back. If she had just stayed still and not knocked over that lamp maybe he wouldn’t have noticed her and she could have just disappeared quietly. “Fuck, fuck…” she shook her head, trying to magically get rid of the images. But he was so pretty and his prick was big. Y/N was a virgin, but she had done other things, just not sex. Sex was sealing the deal with her partner for life, that’s just how it worked for fairies and it had been a while since Y/N had been with anyone, so the hunger was there. Suddenly there were knocks on her door and she knew exactly who it was. “Oh jeez…” she whined quietly, pacing for a few seconds.

“I know you’re in there, Y/N…” she heard Harry through the door.

“Just gi-gimme a sec!” She called out, draping his suit over an armchair and taking a deep breath before heading for the door and opening it up a smidge. “Yeah?” She asked, barely poking her head through.

“I’m sorry.” He said quickly and she glanced down, not necessarily at his lower area, but it was on the way and she could see that it was still fairly hard, she bit her lip, darting her eyes to the ground.

“No, I’m sorry. I assumed you weren’t in there when you didn’t respond.” She said, eyes darting to his hand and then finally up to his eyes and he was wearing a smug smirk all of a sudden.

“Oh my god.” He said softly, smirk still painted on his face and her eyes widened.

“What?”

“I turned you on.” He said confidently and she rolled her eyes.

“No, you didn’t I just can’t… unsee it. Also, who the hell wears noise-cancelling headphones when they’re getting themselves off and expecting someone!” She said shaking her head and he chuckled.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be so fast!” He defended.

“I was altering the suit, not making a new one, Harry…” she said shaking her head, eyes closed, the images still playing in her mind, her face was flushing pink.

“Could’ve been worse, could’ve been Gem or my mum. That would’ve been weird.” He said and she sighed.

“Are you done?” She asked and he shook his head.

“Need to try on my suit, no?” He asked.

“Maybe later when you’re not… you know?” She said, eyes not leaving his. She could feel the tension, his eyes fixing on her lips. She was flustered as hell and he loved it, if only she knew that having her on her knees, so close to his prick was what had him wanking off to some conjured up images of him, heavy and thick between her lips.

“I’d really like to try it on now, if you don’t mind.” He said, leaning on the doorframe, making it clear that he wasn’t going to go unless she really wanted him to disappear. Y/N wasn’t sure that she even wanted him to go, she had seen a lot.

“Harry…” she said warningly, he was looking at her with these hungry eyes and she could feel his energy changing to something heavier and more tense.

“Please, I really want to try it on now.” He said and she was weak and opened up further. He stepped in and gently leaned against the door, clicking it shut. She was only a few steps away from him, so he simply stretched his arms out and looped them around her waist, pulling her closer. She could feel him, stiff and warm against her hip, her eyes fluttering shut as he pressed her closer. “You’re fucking dripping for me aren’t you?” He whispered and she nodded shamelessly, looking up into his eyes. “Do you want me to do something about it, Y/N?” He asked her. Y/N looked completely torn; she should say no. He’s her boss basically, her friend. But she also wanted to say yes because he was beautiful and his hands were so big. She didn’t have to sleep with him, she could just get something else from him and return the favor.

“We can’t have sex.” She said quietly and he nodded in agreement, “and just this once, okay?” She asked, looking into his eyes.

“Okay, no sex and just this once.” He agreed. In a mere matter of seconds their lips collided and he getting comfy on the bed, sweats balled up at his ankles with Y/N kneeled between his legs as her soft hand wrapped around his cock, stroking gently, thumb rubbing at his sensitive tip.

“F-fuck, thas’real good.” He groaned when her lips wrapped around the head. His head rolled back as she sunk lower onto him, his fingers tangling into her hair, watching her cheeks hollowed out with the pressure of her sucking at his hard cock. “Oh fuck, keep going like that.” He muttered breathlessly, jolting a bit when her hand fondled his balls, “Yes, Y/N. M’gonna cum if you keep that up.” He warned. Her tongue was dipping into his slit, tasting his pre-cum and loving the headiness of it on her tongue. She picked up her pace and brought up her other hand to tug at the bottom half of his cock as she focused on stimulating the top half with her tongue. “Don’t stop, don’t stop.” He mewled as her tongue rubbed tirelessly against his slit and then sucked hard at him, one of her thumbs rubbed down the prominent vein that ran along his prick before picking up her speed and stroking him fast, “M’gonna cum, fuck!” He moaned to warn her, but she sank lower onto him and she felt his balls twitch in her hands and then he was bursting in her mouth and she was swallowing his mess down greedily. His eyes were screwed shut and his jaw slack, fingers tangled in her hair, gripping hard as he pressed his cock further into her mouth.

When he had finished she sucked at him so gently, his toes curling at the sensitivity and then she let her warm palm encircle him as he throbbed. Y/N pulled off and kissed at his thighs and his eyes fell shut once more when he felt her warm tongue lick at his balls before sucking one into her mouth gently. He hissed before it formed into a moan as she sucked a bit more, the sensitivity causing the action to be borderline painful, but it felt so good, his cock wanted to get hard for her all over again.

“Please.” He mewled. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to make him cum again or to stop.

He was sure she could coax another out of him. He was only a little disappointed when she pulled away from him and glanced up at him. He couldn’t wait to make her come, the look in her eyes told him that she was more than ready for him to reciprocate. “Best blowie I’ve ever had.” He mumbled, pulling her up off the ground and then smashing his lips into hers. He moaned at the taste of him on her tongue. He quickly was hovering over her, gently rubbing his fingers against the fabric of her knickers.

“Thanks for wearing a dress today.” He smirked and she moaned as he added pressure, really going at her clit.

“Please, Harry. I need t’cum.” She begged and he kissed her hard, relishing in the warmth of her mouth before pulling back.

“Okay, I’ll make you cum.” He said. He quickly removed her underwear and pushed her dress up to her tummy before letting his fingers slip past her folds until he felt where she was soaking for him and she moaned. Her head was thrown back, exposing her neck allowing him to kiss at the tender skin. “Do you want my fingers?” He asked and she nodded.

“Please, Harry. Need something inside.” She whimpered as he rubbed at her clit.

“I also want t’taste you. Bet you’re fucking delicious.” He mumbled against the column of her throat before kissing and nibbling at the little patch of skin.

“Both, please. Do both.” She begged and he smiled.

“Since you made me cum so fucking hard-”

“And I swallowed.” She added in a small voice and he hummed.

“That’s right. You were so fucking good for me. Such a good girl for me that I’ll give you both.” He decided and he kissed her lips hard for a few seconds and then pulled back.

“Thank you.” She whispered as he made his way down her body until he was level with her pussy.

“Fuck, you look so pretty all slick and ready fo’me.” He said and she moaned. She didn’t think she could be anymore turned on, but then he took her by the thighs and spread her open a little wider, pressing her knees up a bit until she felt his warm breath right on her skin. “Ready?” He asked and she groaned.

“Yes, please.”

Without another work he split her slips and opened up, the flat of his tongue pressed to her entrance and smeared up to her clit, when he sucked on the little bud, making her legs jolt. Her moans and whimpers were so pretty and delicate, she was trying to keep quiet. She was a bit successful until she felt his fingers rubbing against her arousal.

“Gonna go with two, okay?”

“Okay.” She mumbled. Her heart was pounding out of her chest at she felt his digits rubbing at her entrance.

“Gonna make you feel as good as you made me feel.” He assured her before licking at her clit again and then suddenly pushing his fingers into her.

“Mmm, Harry!” She whimpered, back arching as he curled them up and rubbed as he pushed them in and out at a moderate pace, her whimpers were louder when he’d push back in harshly. Her thighs were trembling because her was rubbing right onto her g-spot and the licks he was giving her clit had her seeing stars. She started squeezing around his fingers, her moans increasing in volume and frequency as the knot in her tummy started to become unbearable.

“You’re close aren’t you?” He asked and she nodded, “Good. Squeezing so fucking hard. Shit you’re so tight.” He groaned, replacing his tongue with his thumb on her clit and rubbing at her little button until her breath hitched and her hips chased his hand when it pulled away. He held her hips down with his free hand and pounded his fingers into her quickly as her cum coated his fingers, leaving them all warm and sticky. He was shuddered as he worked her through, little whimpers leaving her as his thumb slowly came to a halt. He swirled his fingers around as he slowly pulled them out, causing Y/N to moan and he grinned, loving as they came out shiny and sticky with her, and then sinking them into his mouth, humming at the taste, she sat up, watching him. Cheeks hollowed out and eyes closed as he cleaned his fingers off. “M’not done.” He said when she started moving towards the edge of her bed, “Need t’clean you up.” He said quietly, pushing her back a bit until she was leaning on her elbows, looking down at him, brow furrowed and lips in a pout as his tongue lapped against her folds greedily, then she felt him at her clit again, the sensitive little bud was throbbing against his warm tongue, the back and forth pattern suddenly halted with a rough suck that made one of her hands grip onto the curls on the top of his head.

“Be gentle.” She pleaded and he hummed against her, releasing her clit from the harsh suck and she was wet all over again, his chin was sticky with it and his lips swollen from French kissing her pretty little cunt. Suddenly he started licking at her clit in a very interesting pattern that had her legs trebling again. Her chest was heaving and she moaned his name as she came undone once more, then he lapped her up once again and finally moved back up to her, kissing her lips chastely.

“Satisfied, love?” He asked, patting at her swollen and sensitive pussy three times before pulling back to see Y/N nodded, her eyes closed and a smile set on her face. “The last orgasm, made you cum by spelling my name.” He grinned smugly and she giggled.

“Well it worked.” She whispered tiredly and he smiled, “Thanks. I really needed that.” She said.

“Yeah, me too. It’s a right shame it’s a one time thing.” He mumbled sadly.

*****

It was not a one time thing. Over the course of a few weeks Harry and Y/N had managed to fool around at least twice a week. He doesn’t think he could ever get tired of the way she made him come with her mouth. But also, there was this one time where he was working on his sister’s coronation speech and Y/N came in to bring him his dinner and he pulled her onto his lap and they dry humped until he had cum an unbelievable amount in his pants. There was also that time where she had been preparing breakfast and he ate her soaked little peach while she clung to the counter for dear life. But he’s not sure if either of those times beat the time where he took her into town because she needed to buy fabric and of course, on the way back they made a detour to a secluded spot and he finger fucked her until her little cunt was squirting cum for him.

Those are the things he thought of as he groaned and came hard all over his fist and onto the shower floor, the warm water washing away any evidence of his activities. Harry liked this part of Y/N, but it left part of him wondering about who she was now. Sure, they had been great friends in school, but then he left and they grew into adults and became different people. That’s what drove him into the kitchen as she had some dishes being washed magically as she chopped some potatoes.

“I can’t right now, Harry.” She said, not even having to look up to see if it was actually him. She had learned to read his presence. She was growing a fondness over him that was dangerous. She couldn’t less herself fall for him because then she’d want to sleep with him and her heart would be tethered to his forever and he might not even want her like that and that would break her.

“I wanted to know what your favorite song is.” he said and she sighed.

“Why?” She asked, finally looking up and he was wearing a lovely, dimpled smile.

“Because, I don’t really know much about you anymore except for the fact that I know were your g-spot is and I really don’t like that.” He said and she giggled around a scoff.

“Well, why do you need to know?” She inquired and he shrugged.

“Just want to know.” He said and she decided to humor him.

“Right now my favorite song is Wouldn’t It Be Nice. I watched 50 First Dates the other day and I can’t stop listening to it.” She said, focused on chopping the potatoes, too focused to see him smiling fondly at her.

“Good choice… song and film.” She hummed in acknowledgement, “And what about color? Mine is-”

“Pink.” She said and his brows arched, surprised she knew, “Mine is also pink.” She disclosed, smiling up at him.

“Pink is really pretty, just reminds me of the spring time and sunrises.” He said and she smiled.

“Yeah, it’s very cute.” She agreed and he smiled.

“Mmmm, what are some of your hobbies?” He asked and she glanced up.

“What’s this about?” She said and he walked further into the kitchen, grabbing a knife and cutting board and taking one of the bell peppers beside her.

“Told you, I want to get to know you better.” He said, “Now what are your hobbies? And how do you want these cut?” He asked, she was more than endeared. He was so charming and it was hard not to swoon in Harry’s presence, he just did things to people.

“Just dice’em. And uhhh… I like to cook, relaxes me a lot. I love to read as well, and uh… well no one knows this but I have an Etsy store an sell soaps, candles, and lipbalms. I love doing that.” She confessed and he smiled brightly at her.

“Ummm, you know how much I love candles right? When are you going to make me a lavender one?” He asked and she giggled.

“If you really want one I will make you one.” She said and he scoffed.

“Ummm, of course I want one!”

“Alright then, I’ll personally deliver it tomorrow.” She said and he was beaming.

“Alright then.” He repeated.

****

Harry’s mouth was dry, his heart was pounding erratically and his spirits were crushed because he wanted Y/N. He had started spending more time with her and he really was falling for her. He loved spending time with her and talking to her and he loved helping her make her soaps and candles and visiting with her mom. He had fallen for her, he wasn’t even sure what was going to come of it, but it was too late. His whole heart was hers for the taking, so hearing that Gemma’s pre-coronation ball would be when he was to meet a princess that he was supposed to wed he was upset.

“I thought since I’m technically second in line as of now I didn’t need to worry about this!” Harry exclaimed, he was angry.

“Darling, it doesn’t mater if you’re third or fourth in line, you need to marry someone who is going to help us out!” Anne reasoned and he groaned.

“You didn’t marry royal!” He argued and she sighed.

“Which is why your father and I had to annul, Harry. I got remarried, luckily to someone I was interested in after everything, you know that.”

“What if I don’t like her? What if she’s daft and scary-looking or crazy?” He asked and Anne rolled her eyes at his dramatic behavior.

“I can assure you, Harry, she’s pretty and smart and not crazy. I’ve met the girl myself and she’s lovely. She can’t wait to meet you next week.” Anne said and he just stormed out of her study. His heart felt heavy and it hurt to know that maybe having something, anything with Y/N would never be possible.  

Meanwhile, Y/N was working on the menu for the pre-coronation ball, but she felt off, upset even. Something was wrong, she could feel it, it was Harry. She had spent so much time with him and maybe she had gotten too careless, but she was falling for him. She yearned to be around him and she could feel everything he felt and when they were together it was a bliss like she’d never known. But right now something was wrong; the feeling grew heavier when he walked into the kitchen, anguish and betrayal written all over his face and she frowned.

“What is it?” She asked and he sighed, just walking up to her and kissing her with everything good he could muster up, masking some of the hurt they were both feeling now and alleviating it for a moment, until he pulled away his forehead resting on hers, his lips kissing the tip of her nose and then sighing.

“Nothing, just an argument with mum.” He said and she knew he was lying, but maybe he wasn’t ready to say.

“What can I do to make it better?” She asked and he sighed.

“Let’s go for a ride, yeah? Next week we’ll both be to our ears in coronation prep.” He said and she nodded. Taking his hand and snapping, both of them appearing in the stables. “I still think it’s cool you can do that.” He said smiling, feeling a lot more relaxed then when they were in the kitchen and she smiled.

“It is is pretty sick.” She agreed and let him prep the horses.

Y/N found that she could do a lot of things with Harry, not just teleport him. She could read his mind if she really concentrated, but she would never, that was private. It just happened once on accident when she was taking him in, he just looked so beautiful and she wanted to remember the moment forever, so she was focusing on every detail and then she heard it, clear as day. He was thinking about eating lunch, and then as if on cue he asked if she wanted to go have some lunch, she knew exactly what he was craving too. Y/N could also take some of his pain, and even protect him the way she could protect herself from harm. These were tell-tale signs of a forming bond. She was worried, because on an emotional level and physical to some degree, her heart was slowly becoming his. She wasn’t even sure if it was allowed, but it was happening and she hadn’t told anyone.

******

“We can’t have sex.” Y/N sighed tiredly and Harry huffed. He wanted her, wanted her so fucking bad it hurt. His heart ached to connect with her that way.

“Baby, I know, but I just want you so bad.” He whined, kissing her forehead.

“Me too, but we just can’t.” She groaned and he pouted.

“You know that I love you right? That you mean everything to me?” He asked and she nodded.

“I do too, believe me, Har. But we can’t, okay?” She said and he groaned.

“Why not?” He asked like a pouty child and she sighed, sitting up from his bed.

“My kind… we bond for life. We can only have sex with one person- trust me, I want to, so badly because I love you more than I can express, but if for some reason you don’t want me one day-”

“Impossible.” He interrupted and she sighed.

“This is serious, Harry. I will never love again, Harry. Already, I feel tethered to your heart, imagine a physical act of love and unity? I don’t know what I’d do if we did it and I couldn’t have you ever again.” She said sadly and that’s why he simply said ‘Okay, baby’. Because in a few days he would be meeting his future wife and as much as his heart wanted it to be Y/N, it wasn’t going to be her.

******

“You look incredible.” Y/N said as she finished zipping up Gemma’s ball gown. It was a champagne colored ball gown that was a beautiful, fitted, off the shoulder lace top, with rhinestones, crystals, and beading that became sparse as it transitioned into the blown up tulle and chiffon skirt.

“Thank you so much, I love it. It’s exactly what I hoped it would be.” She said looking to Y/N through the mirror.

“I’m glad.” She said and Gemma sighed, for a moment she saw a little pain in her eyes. Then a heavy feeling settled over her heart, something was wrong.

“Y/N, just know that we all love you, so, so much. We’re all so grateful for you.” She said and Y/N smiled, hiding the inner turmoil she was in because something was definitely wrong. Once Gemma was ready and her tiara was placed on her head Y/N left to get into her gown. She would be attending the ball as a family friend, Anne wouldn’t have it another way.

So while Y/N wanted to go all out and look beautiful for herself and for Harry, she chose to create something subtle and simple. She was more than surprised when Anne let her borrow her jewelry; she chose some antique garnet drop earrings set in silver, they were the perfect pop to her simple, silver colored silk gown, also off the shoulder, and a-line. She had never felt more beautiful in her life, but still something wasn’t right.

Although she was a guest, she was still busy and working, making sure everything was running smoothly. The servers were passing around her hors d’oeuvres and champagne flutes, so all seemed well and she decided to finally join the celebration. She looked around the room to find someone she knew and she spotted Harry. Y/N was about to make her way over when the crowd conveniently parted and she saw him speaking very animatedly to a gorgeous girl. Focusing hard on trying to read his expression she tuned in to his mind accidentally and her heart shattered when she heard the words: This is the woman I’m going to marry.

She wasn’t sure what to think, but all she could do was feel hurt; he said not even a week ago that he loved her. Maybe she stared a bit too long, but he looked over from his conversation partner for a moment and did a double take when he saw her, he smiled at her from a distance, not really able to look away once he noticed her. Y/N couldn’t really handle this, she couldn’t be here anymore. Her eyes were welling up with tears of sadness and betrayal and she turned around quickly and bumped into someone, he was tall. Taller than Harry and he smiled at her warmly and she returned the gesture out of politeness, but then he opened his mouth.

“Would you like to dance?”

****

Harry was hot. He was chatting with one of the most beautiful and intelligent girl’s he’s met in his life, a girl he’s supposed to marry, but can’t. He saw Y/N, and a minute later she’s pressed up against his mother’s adviser’s son, Aaron. He’s a right prick, a womanizer, a player… but there he is, swaying Y/N back and forth on the dance floor. If looks could kill he’d be dead. She’s smiling, she seems to be okay, but he can’t help but rudely excuse himself from the conversation with princess Clara is to go and tap on Aaron’s shoulder as the song comes to and end.

“May I cut in?” He asks and Aaron looks irritated, because he knows Harry doesn’t like him much and it seems that he’s sabotaging his chances with this girl on his arm, but he is the fucking prince and his father would have his head for refusing a royal, so he stomps off and Harry sweeps Y/N into his arms, swaying her gently as another song starts up. To his surprise and dismay, she’s silent. “Are you alright?” He finally asks.

“Why are you here?” She asks coldly, but softly, looking into his eyes.

“Aaron is a prick and you look breathtaking tonight.” He says simply and she huffs.

“This can’t happen… your mom is talking to your friend she seems upset. Well, they both do.” Y/N informed him as both Anne and the girl watched on and Y/N smiled softly at Anne, who returned her gesture before tuning to the girl. Probably informing the beautiful young woman that Y/N was just a good friend and she had nothing to worry about.

“I’m supposed to marry her.” He said suddenly and Y/N paused, causing him to stumble a bit and as he regained his balance she took off quickly, making her way to a secluded part of the room and snapping her fingers and she appeared in the one place she didn’t want to be, but couldn’t stop thinking about, his fucking room where he had told her that he loves her.

Harry groaned in irritation as she suddenly disappeared, she could be anywhere… he glanced back and hurried to his mother.

“Sorry, Clara, can I speak to my mother privately for a moment?” He smiled and she nodded, walking off as he pulled his mother to the edge of the room. “I can’t marry that girl.” He said and Anne sighed.

“Harry, you need to marry som-”

“She’s not into my kind, mum. She told me not even ten minutes into the conversation, we wouldn’t have kids, so no heirs. Her parents don’t know yet. I literally cannot marry her.” He informed and Anne looked a bit surprised.

“So, what are we going to do?” She asked and he bit his lip before deciding to be honest.

“Actually, I am so hopelessly in love with Y/N. I think- no, I know I want to marry her.” He said and Anne’s eyes grew wide as saucers at Harry’s confession.

“Um… she’s a beautiful and wonderful girl, Harry, but is that even possible?” She said skeptically and Harry shrugged.

“I’m pretty sure.” He said and Anne sighed.

“Think about it, we know her and trust her, if we could have kids they’d still be royals!” He argued and Anne shrugged.

“I don’t know, darling. I don’t know how this works. What happens when she stops aging and you get older and older?” She whispered and he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Don’t care, I love her. She’s everything I want and need, she’s my best friend.” He explained and Anne felt for him.

Gemma had luckily fallen in love with someone she could marry to keep the crown. Anne had fallen for Des, and despite their separation she had found someone Robin, who she also loved deeply the second time around and who also had some sort of importance and status acceptable for a queen. She wanted him to be happy… she sighed, her resolve breaking.

“Okay, yes. You can be with her; be with Y/N.” She said softly, squeezing his hands and he smiled.

“Thanks, mum.” He said hugging her tight before hurrying off to find her.

*****

“Y/N?” He called as he opened the for softly. He had checked the entire fucking kingdom (or so it felt like it), he thought she might be in his room, but didn’t really think she had any reason to be until he heard a sniffle and his eyes landed on a lump on the bed that seemed to be shimmering in the moonlight. She looks radiant and he hates knowing that he hurt her feelings, she didn’t let him finish. When he got closer he saw that she had those noise-cancelling headphones on from when they had their first run-in; her eyes were closed so he sat on the edge of the bed making her sit up so fast.

“Jeez, you scared me.” She said a bit too loudly before pulling the headphones off, she had been crying, her eyes were a bit glossy.

“You didn’t let me finish saying what I had to say.” He said and she sighed.

“I don’t want to hear it, I’d rather not. You told me you loved me and I love you too. I’m connecting to you in ways that you can’t imagine, so maybe just rip the bandaid off instead of  beating aroun-” he cut her off with his lips pressing to hers. The urge to just be there for him took over her hurt. Harry wasn’t a liar, maybe he had to do this, when she had calmed down he pulled back, pecking her lips once more before resting his forehead on hers.

“I won’t marry her. I talked to my mum about you. About us. Told her that I love you so much and that you’re my best friend and that I don’t want to live a single day without you.” He said and she bit her lip, trying to hold back an enormous smile.

“Harry, is that even allowed?”

“M’not done. I do want every single day with you and I on’t care if I look awful or like your grandad in the end! I just want you to be happy and if you’re happy with me and think you could be for the rest of our lives I would love to ask your parents for your hand in marriage.” He said and tears ere streaming down her face, hopefully good ones.

“You’re lucky my mascara is waterproof, she whispered.” Before kissing him hard. It was indescribable. Consciously making that decision to be with someone no matter what. Naturally their kiss started getting more heated, things were moving quickly. He was standing behind her, kissing at her shoulders as he worked on her dress’ zipper.  “Harry, if we do this-”

“I know. Trust me, I don’t think I’d ever want anyone else in my whole life besides you.” He assured her, pleasantly surprised that she was wearing some very cute lingerie.  

“Yes, I wore it for you.” She hummed  as he unhooked the strapless bra and let drop to the ground before pressing her barely-clothed ass to the bulge in this pants.                                         “I want you so bad.” He whispered in her ear, nibbling at the lobe while his hands squeezed her breasts and pinched at her nipples. If she wasn’t soaked for him before, she definitely was now.

“I want you too, please.” She moaned as he pinched down on her nipple rather hard, causing her to groan in a mix pain and pleasure.

Soon she was laying on the bed completely naked for him, needy and throbbing. Fairies’ bodies prepared for when they were going to bond with a partner. If their heart was in it, so was their body. This means she was a soaking and sticky mess for him, her endorphin and dopamine levels where through the roof, ensuring that the only thing felt on this, her first time, was pleasure. She had never felt such a primal hunger for someone in her life, she needed him to just get inside of her and make her his.

“Fuck, baby.” He moaned as his fingers dipped past her folds and stroked up to her clit, “Proper dripping for me.” He said lowly, rubbing at her clit gently, and pushing two fingers into her, but the sensitivity from her body’s state had her mewling and her back arching, already close to coming. “Are you gonna cum for me?” He asked and she nodded, breath hitching and legs trembling as he added more pressure and increased the speed of his fingers.

“Oh my- yes, that’s so good!” She whimpered, jaw falling slack and her eyes closing tight as she came undone, mumbling his name over and over. God, he was throbbing for her and couldn’t wait to stuff her full of his cock. He hovered over her, kissing her a few minutes as she calmed down, but she couldn’t because the feeling of his hard cock on her lower tummy was doing things to her. “Please, I want you in me. Need to feel you deep inside.” She begged as he rubbed his cock against her soaking folds. He was big, he didn’t want to ruin her first time, but she kept insisting it was okay, that it would be okay.

“Alright love, please tell me if you need me to stop.” He warned and she nodded, shuddering as he rubbed his head up against her clit and then back down to her weeping hole. He watched her attentively as he pressed the tip to her entrance, her eyes flew open and landed on him. His bottom lip was taken between his teeth, holding back a moan as he made shallow little thrusts against her.

“Please, Harry. I need you.” She whimpered and he glanced up to her, eyes begging him to just do it and so he pulled away and hovered over her as her hand guided him to her entrance and he just pushed back into the head, relishing in her arousal and how the new intrusion was causing her body to squeeze around him already. He just let his hips fall towards hers as he pushed all the way into her, making them both groan, her nails digging into his bum as he stilled until he felt his balls tap against her skin, “Oh my god.” She moaned, back arching at the feeling of fullness. Harry felt like he could cry from how incredibly tight she was around him, squeezing and so wet for him.

“You feel so fucking amazing, love. Are you good?” He asked and she nodded furiously.

“Please, move.” She pleaded and he followed her demands.

He thrust into her deep and slow, making love to her. This was a first for sure. His heart felt so full being connected to her this way. He wanted to just hold her so close she could hardly breath, he wished he could kiss her forever without taking a breathing break, he just wanted to be with her. He showed it to her with every thrust and encouraging word, kissing all over her face, moaning into her neck and loving the way she was reacting to this moment with him. God, the way his ego was bloating up at the sounds of her moaning his name and how good his big, thick prick felt inside of her, he was really over the moon.

He bent her legs at the knee and angled his thrust that way, giving it to her harder and faster, feeling her clenching hard around him. She was getting close, the wet sounds getting more prominent as their connection remained.

“Are you gonna cum for me, princess?” He asked and she moaned, she was his princess now.

“Fuck, I am!” She mewled

“Come on baby, want to feel you making my cock sticky with your cum. Give it to me, princess.” He encouraged until her eyes rolled back and her legs tumbled around his body, soaking his prick with her cum, making the sounds of him thrusting into her louder and dirtier. She was seeing stars, she was tearing up and felt like she was floating in the clouds of pleasure, moaning his name, encouraging him to keep going, to fuck her until he couldn’t move anymore.

“Fuck, love. M’gonna cum.” He warned and she crossed her legs behind his hips as he fucked into her harder and deeper.

“Please,” she begged, “make me yours.” She whined and he moaned loudly at the idea.

“Want my cum deep inside you?” He asked and she nodded and moaned, begging him to please, cum inside her. “Fuck, s’gonna be a lot, fuck.” He said shakily feeling the knot in his tummy hastily slipping undone, he thrusted into her roughly and stilled deep inside of her as he filled her up, moaning at the feeling of her clenching hard around him, milking him for every drop. “Fuck, Y/N.” He moaned, buried in her neck until they were both panting messes of sloppy kisses and declarations of love. “You’re all mine, Y/N. My fucking princess forever.” He mumbled against her lips.

[hannahharrington]

CRYING IN EUROPE (postcards from italy)

I struggled with whether or not to post this; I still am, honestly, because it is very raw in every sense. This is something I wrote a year-minus-two-weeks-ago, holed up in an AirBNB in Rome, about losing my good friend Jaymee and the bizarreness of having the best and worst time of your life simultaneously. I did not look at it ever again until a few days ago. It wasn’t written to share with anyone, only because I needed to put thoughts down at the time. Any editing has been very minimal.

The last section I wrote yesterday.  

CRYING IN EUROPE (postcards from italy)

1. The first time is on the first day. I land at Heathrow only to find out the express train isn’t running because of the snowstorm and the tube is beyond fucked. I nearly cry out of frustration and jet lag exhaustion but I don’t. I end up emerging from Shepherd’s Bush Market half a mile from the hotel and have to drag my suitcase through blustery snow that whips me so hard in the face it makes tears leak out of the corners of my eyes.

2. The second time is the next morning, five minutes after I first find out you’re dead. I guess the first five minutes are a mix of me just having woken up, an hour before my alarm, still on New York time as I scroll idly through my phone messages only to see it blowing up with the news; and maybe shock can be used as an excuse, even though we all knew it was coming.

3. Over the Hilton London Kensington breakfast buffet for Hilton Honors Members. I’m telling Barry how I was supposed to see you before it happened. My voice cracks and eyes overflow with tears, and I’m apologizing and Barry is being so kind about it even though I can tell he’s not really sure what to do or say, which is okay because I don’t know either. It occurs to me later that in all the years we’ve known each other, this is the first time I’ve ever cried in front of him.

You said you were terminal, and released to home hospice care, and I told you I would fly to California if you wanted and read you mean celebrity blog comment sections, like how I did for you when you visited me in Brooklyn (I’ll never forget how we laughed until we cried like middle schoolers at a sleepover). I followed your lead in trying to blunt reality with a joke because that’s what you always did. The last thing you posted on any social media was a repost of our Facebook “Friendaversary”, saying how you were due for another one of my dramatic readings. I was going to buy a plane ticket when I got back from this trip. I was supposed to be there.

4. The first cigarette I smoke.

5. And the second, all while thinking about how terrible a person I am for smoking because you hated it and hated having cancer and hated that I would do something that could make me sick. You wanted me to stop, and if this were a movie I’d quit on the spot. But it isn’t and so instead I stand chain-smoking and hating myself.

6. In the shower.

7. We go see the Hamilton matinee hours after we find out, and it’s the cruelest twist of fate, experiencing this thing you loved so deeply and brought into my life and that we shared together. You’re the reason I saw it with everyone else at the matinee Obama attended. I lost the lottery, the lone one of all of us without a way in, and I was feeling a little sorry for myself and about to leave. I went to say goodbye to you, and immediately you pulled your Jaymee magic and got me a ticket at the literal last minute. And it really did feel like magic.

When you first saw it at the Public, I tried the lottery and lost, and I joked for you to go on without me, to die a million happy deaths. You said if I were being mugged and you were the only one who could save me, you’d still make me wait until after the show. I know if I skipped it you’d literally come back to life and kick my ass. But that doesn’t seem like a bad deal. I’d never see Hamilton again, I’d burn all of my playbills, even the one from the off-Broadway run I got signed by the original cast at the stage door. I’d tear the donut bag in half, the one we joked about being good luck, the one I had Lin-Manuel Miranda autograph. I’d do all of that if it gave me five more minutes with you.

I keep my shit together more or less until the second act. When Hamilton pleads to Washington with Why do we have to say goodbye?, I start crying and don’t stop until curtain call.

8. Right before I left on this trip, I threw together a playlist for my phone. The last song I added was Eva Cassidy’s cover of “Fields of Gold”, thinking it’d be pretty background soundtrack for train rides through lush, rolling Italian countryside. A year ago I went down one of my weird little Internet research rabbit holes and read all about Eva, her melanoma, how she died and her last performance, and wondered why there hadn’t been a movie made about that particular beautiful tragedy. After Hamilton I tell Barry I feel better, like it was an emotional release, but then the next afternoon we go to a pastry café and they play a jazz standard cover of “Fields of Gold” over the speakers and my chest seizes.

9. Friday night we’re supposed to meet up with Jen for dinner before she flies back to Philly. I’m sick to my stomach in the cab ride over to her hotel, and when we get to her room I drop my purse and hug her and don’t let go. That thing happens where I’m trying not to cry and it makes me cry harder and I can feel Jen crying too. We sit and Jen and Danielle talk about their travels and the whole time I feel on the verge of throwing up. Finally I say we need to talk about you, about what we’re going to do. Jen says June told her sometimes in Filipino culture they ask for donations for the family instead of flowers, so she’s not sure what’s preferred. I don’t know why I was expecting Jen to have more information, something to make me feel better, but nothing she tells me does. I take one of the Ativans my mom gave me for the plane ride because I can’t calm down. You said they gave you Ativan at the end. You said it helped. It helps me too.

I excuse myself from their room and get lost in the dimly lit maze of their hotel, until finally I find a side exit to the courtyard, and I light a cigarette and text my mom, who happens to be around. I try calling, but this stupid SIM card I got won’t let me connect to the US, so I wait until I’m back at the hotel and Barry is out at his show. The instructions to dial out don’t tell me the overseas rates, but I call my mom anyway, and spend twenty minutes on the phone with her sobbing like a child.

When we check out of the hotel, I’ll find out the call cost me over a hundred pounds, which probably with the obscene exchange rates approximates to three hundred dollars. I rationalize that’s what I would have paid out of pocket for an emergency therapy session anyway.

10. I find your aunt on Facebook and ask her what the family wants done. An hour later she messages me back to say flowers would be lovely. Your mother is beside herself with grief, she says. You were her best friend, she says.

It feels better to be doing something, to feel productive, so I make it my mission to organize the flowers for your memorial. The whole next day between sightseeing at Kensington Palace I’m looking up florists in San Mateo, figuring out who wants to contribute, making sure everyone is included. Bridget agrees to place the order. It’s midnight my time when I run downstairs for a smoke. Bridget and I are trading texts, trying to figure out what to write on the card. I’m not a writer, she says. You should do it, she says. I start crying because I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this. When I go to head back into the hotel, a British girl with blue hair sees me wiping at my eyes. She calls me love and asks if I’m okay. I’ve been in New York too long; my own public meltdowns don’t even embarrass me anymore. I’ve forgotten that the rest of the world doesn’t politely ignore you when you’re losing your shit on the sidewalk. I know how I must look, crying messily in my pajamas, walking around like an open wound just bleeding over everything.

I try to stop the tears long enough to assure her I’m fine, really, and when I stumble out the words that a friend of mine just passed away, she grabs me in a hug before the words finish getting out. She’s so nice that it makes me cry even more and I let her convince me to take the free cigarette she offers. She tells me she’s here with her gay husband and I joke through tears that I’m here with mine too. We stand and talk about Camden Market and the magic of New York at Christmastime, and when she’s satisfied I’m not a suicide risk she adds me as a friend on Facebook.

11. Things feel different in Venice. I start to feel like maybe I’ve hit the bottom of this, it’s only up from here, and even as I’m thinking it I know it’s delusional. I had the same feeling when my dad died, and I learned then that grief is not linear. There can be moments where it’s all temporarily bearable, only for a fresh wave of pain to knock you flat on your ass a minute later.

But for most of Venice I feel lighter, like the darkest clouds of the storm have passed. We get lost in the labyrinth of alleyways and eventually I duck into a Murano glass shop. Back in January when I went to Fort Myers, I took an Uber from the airport, and for the first time ever I had a woman driver. During the drive to the beach somehow the subject of this trip came up. I mentioned I’d be in Venice, and she told me how her day job was at an art gallery. They made jewelry from Murano glass, a Venetian technique. She made me promise to seek it out when I went.

The shop has all kinds of figurines, and in the back corner I discover these thimble-sized cows. Cows were your thing. Not just thing—borderline obsession. I still don’t know what it is about them you loved so much, but you did. When I was in Amsterdam I passed by an actual Cow Museum, snapped a photo of the storefront and sent it to you. You couldn’t believe I didn’t go inside. Now I’m here in Venice, looking at these little cows and thinking of you, and of course I have to get them. I scoop four of them into my palm and go to the cashier and whatever part of my heart that’s been healing over gets ripped open raw again. My throat burns too much for me to manage anything more than a cursory grazie as I watch him bundle them delicately in bubble wrap. It almost feels selfish to hurt this much, when there are people in this world who loved you longer and harder and better than I did. But I do.

12. In Florence Barry and I split up for the day. He runs off to the Duomo while I visit the Ambrogio market, the one the owner of our B&B tells me is for locals. I pick up random ingredients for my mother, whose burgeoning interest in the culinary arts still baffles me considering I subsisted on almost nothing but microwave dinners as a child, and two sweaters for myself. 

I’m back at our apartment-sized suite, arranging the packaged pasta and sun-dried tomatoes on the wooden table for an Instagram photo when I click some random button that takes me to my inbox.

There’s only one message in there and I realize it’s from you, from over two years ago. I click to see it’s a video taken in Marie’s Crisis. Some pitch perfect soprano sings bars from an unrecognizable show tune at the piano, and then you turn the camera to yourself, bobbing your head along with a coy smile. I can’t believe it. I click out accidentally and have to Google for instructions on how to find it again. The video is only fifteen seconds but I watch it ten times in a row and then put my head down on the table and cry until it hurts.

13. Bucket list items have a greater sense of urgency now than they used to. At the last minute I find a woman who agrees to take me to a horse farm in Tuscany. She meets me at the Piazza Cavalleggeri behind one of Florence’s countless gorgeous ancient basilicas and takes me to meet her business partner so he can drive. He’s an old guy who speaks zero English, and it becomes evident when he climbs into the driver’s seat that he has Tourette’s. Every ten seconds his tic makes him jerk the steering wheel so the whole car swerves. We lurch our way up narrow roads that wind up huge hills, endless greenery on all sides, the woman chattering happily about vineyards and olive trees as I brace myself in the backseat, positive the guy is going to tic us right into oncoming traffic and certain death. It rains on the way there, and the woman worries it’ll be too wet to ride, but sure enough we arrive and the sky clears up just long enough for me and two other American girls to go for an hour-long trek. It’s been ten years since I’ve been on a horse, and I’m nervous about it, but the second I’m in the saddle everything comes back to me. We ride through steep hills, surrounded by the kind of scenery that’s beyond picturesque. It’s so gorgeous it doesn’t look real, like an oil painting. For the first time in days I feel a weightless kind of happiness. I know as it’s happening that this is something I will remember for the rest of my life.

When the woman drops me back off in Florence, I trip over myself thanking her profusely, holding back tears because I don’t want to explain that that was maybe the most beautiful experience of my life and I’m so grateful that for three hours the Jaymee is dead, Jaymee is dead, Jaymee is dead track stopped spinning in my head.

14. Rome is a welcome change of pace. I like big, bustling, metropolitan cities; they make me feel comfortable. Safe. Even just through glimpses out the taxi window I can see Rome is bursting at the seams, vibrant and colorful and a startling clash of ancient and modern. Our driver asks where we’re from and I say New York. He laughs and tells us he doesn’t like America, but he likes New York.

On a tour of the Vatican museums, our guide shares all the juicy stories of how Raphael and Michelangelo loathed each other, and the illicit love between Antinous and Hadrian, and we marvel at the frescos on every wall and the breathtaking scope of the Sistine Chapel and the inside of St. Peter’s basilica.

I was skeptical as I always am of anything to do with organized religion, but you liked the new Pope. You thought he was progressive, refreshing. You’d joke all the time about your “Jesus problems”, how you struggled to reconcile your Catholicism with your personal politics.

Afterward Barry scurries off to scale the bell tower. I ask our guide if there’s anywhere in the basilica to light candles, like how you can do in St. Patrick’s. She tells me it’s not allowed—it’s too much of a hazard, especially after a crazy man declared himself the second coming of Jesus and attacked Michelangelo’s Pietà with a hammer, chipping off fifteen pieces in the mayhem, including Mary’s nose.

Instead of waiting for Barry outside in the square I retreat back into St. Peter’s, to the closed off chapel. The guard asks me if I will be praying. It forces me to confront what I’m really planning to do, and after a heartbeat of hesitation I stutter out a yes, slip through the parted curtains to the pews. I’ve never prayed in my life; I have no idea how to do it. I look to see how others around me kneel and try to imitate the stance, hands folded in front of me, knees against the padded rest. It all feels clumsy and awkward until suddenly it doesn’t. Suddenly I’m just crying. I watch my thick tears plop onto concrete and absently wonder how many people before me have spilled salt on these floors. Probably a lot.

I don’t know how to pray. In my head I’m just screaming please forgive me, and I don’t know if I’m saying it to God or to you. I guess I know now what Catholic guilt feels like.

I should’ve been there. I should’ve brought Schmackary’s cookies and the good luck donut bag and flown out to California and seen you. Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was? Why did you have to make your yes a joke? (A quip about doctor’s orders, it comes as no surprise you embraced the gallows humor.) Why couldn’t you be earnest? Why couldn’t just say I need you right now, I don’t have much time, please be here? Did you even know? Because I swear I didn’t. I thought I could wait. I thought you had more time. None of it fucking matters because I can’t forgive myself, not ever.

…And that’s it. That’s where I stopped writing. I didn’t cry on European soil again after that. Not because the last cry was cathartic or healing; it wasn’t. The healing would come later, long after my plane touched down again in New York. It happened in ways I can’t explain, slowly, until one day the thought of you didn’t automatically bring me to the brink of tears or knock the wind from me like a sucker punch to the gut, where the tenderness of loving memory ran parallel with the heartbreak rather than being subsumed by it. Eventually the day came where I could think of you and how you were and what we shared, not only of the ways I failed you. A year later and I still think of those too, sometimes. And there are still tears, sometimes.

I feel like I always had this idea that you go through The Worst Thing and life just evens out after that. My Worst Thing happened when I was in my teenage years and I was supposed to be in the clear afterwards. But life doesn’t work that way. There’s no plateau, no neat ever after. And every so often we break in ways where yes, you can scrape the pieces together and carry on, but you’re never made whole again. You’re never the person you used to be. You become a new version of yourself, mismatched and full of jagged lines, and you find a way to forge ahead.

In the immediate soul-crushing wake of the 2016 election, someone created a Subway Therapy project in the tunnel of the 14th Avenue station that stretches from Sixth to Seventh. I went to see it then, a modern day marvel: the long tiled wall papered with thousands of bright post-its, each full of encouragement and commiseration from fellow grief-sick New Yorkers. The sight was a life preserver in the sea of misery I’d floated in that entire week. I was not alone in the feeling, however singularly devastating it felt.

Countless others have been here. I am not the only one to have shed my tears on ancient chapel floors, unable to imagine I would ever feel okay again. Experts painstakingly restored the Pietà after the attack, but if you were to find your way behind the bulletproof glass and touch the Virgin Mary’s cheek, you would still feel hairline traces of their work, a difference of texture; if you were to peer close enough, you would see the faint lines on marble that belie its pristine repair. It was broken once. It could not be remade exactly as it was. It’s no less a masterpiece.

That day in the 14th Street station, I peeled off a blank post-it and wrote out an Abraham Lincoln quote I’d read once: Perfect relief is not possible, except with time. You cannot now realize that you will ever feel better… And yet this is a mistake. You are sure to be happy again.

Time buffers out the rough edges. It is the only thing that does.

[dolanleaked]

Thank God Ethan is okay...

Now that it has been a few weeks and I have had the time to get my thoughts and feelings in order, I am beyond happy that Ethan is okay. I’m happy he was able to walk away from an accident and continue life as normal. I literally cannot express how losing him would have felt. Being a fan of the twins for a few years now, I have found that they seem more like family than famous kids on the internet. I have found comfort and entertainment in watching them do crazy challenges and living their fearless, “dare-devil” lifestyle. I was drawn to these two boys because they reminded me so much of my brother.

Growing up, he was always able to find a rail to skate on, a platform do flips off of, or a dirt ramp to jump his dirtbike off of. Being the older sister, I was supposed to be braver and more daring. I got “double-dog dared” more times I can count, resulting in me visiting the Emergency Room a time or two.

Over the years, he got pretty good at riding a dirtbike, and finally convinced my mom to let him compete in motocross competitions. He was a perfectionist, so his technique and form were things he took pride in. The summer after he started competing, my brother was struck by another bike in the middle of a run. After completing a routine jump, the other rider lost control of his bike, hit my brother and threw him off his bike. He was not as lucky as Ethan. My brother died when I was 15 and he was 13, almost 14.

I know exactly how Grayson was feeling. As soon as I saw his tweet, I felt the emotions from 5 years ago take over my body. My stomach sunk and I wished I had a way to comfort G during a situation that I would never wish upon my worst enemy.

Had Ethan not been as lucky as he was, the trauma of losing another person who seems to be as close as family to me would have been unbearable. I know it sounds dramatic and annoying, but I find an indescribable comfort in seeing those two boys live lives that I imagine would be similar to how my brother would be. Nothing but Love for Ethan 💙, and I hope this acts as a learning experience, but doesn’t stop them from being “silly little goofballs”.

[erikandariel]

The Truth

[Notes from Ken: This is a sequel to How We Met. There’s actually typical G/t stuff in it! Near the end there’s an infodump(tm) that’s Ariel and Erik’s backstory. I’m sorry this story is so long. I’m hoping to write much! shorter! fic! now that I’ve finished this one. Enjoy!]

Length: 5,926 words

The summer after I met Ariel and Erik felt like it went by more quickly than any before. I had an internship in my hometown that made me feel exhausted once I got home. Ariel and I texted everyday and we’d Skype each other at least once a week. Erik was there for the first call, but apparently he usually had “business to attend to”—his words—so he rarely joined us. I tried asking Ariel what the heck he was doing, but all she’d say was that it was somehow related to their home country; which she continued to not tell me the name of. Then near the end of July Ariel had a surprise for me. “All three of us are going to Yellowstone National Park to celebrate the end of summer!” she announced during our web call. “If you want to of course!” Apparently at some point, I’d told her that I’d like to visit the park again at some point in my life and she decided to make that happen sooner rather than later. She somehow roped Erik into joining a group call to my mom and dad to get their blessing for the trip and they worked out the details. My friends would pay for our plane tickets, the rental car, our hotel room, and most of our food expenses. They would have paid for everything, but my parents insisted that they’d give me the money to pay for the rest of my food and to cover my entrance costs for any activities we did. If I wanted souvenirs I could get them myself with the money I earned from my summer job. At the beginning of my internship, I told my boss when my last day would be. I had worked it out so that I’d have a little over a week off between when I finished with them and moving back to college. Ariel took advantage of this, so the three of us would be fly out together the Saturday after I was done with my job and fly back the Sunday before my semester started. I was more than willing to go.

—

We only had three full days left of our week long celebration. I’d been enjoying the trip overall, but I was getting a bit antsy over Ariel and Erik basically taking care of everything? Normally I would have been totally cool with this, but they seemed to be looking out for me like I was some little kid who could get seriously injured at any moment. So instead of actually talking through this issue, I chose to assert myself by insisting I drive the next day right before we went to bed. It took a lot of convincing and pleading but eventually Erik sighed and handed me the keys. “Thank you!” I said and hugged him in excitement. When I met up at the airport, Ariel and I had immediately taken to regularly giving each other hugs. They were always a bit socially uncomfortable? My head came only to the middle of her chest. I still enjoyed them though because she felt so soft and warm. Erik, on the other hand, just didn’t seem to be the hugging type. After mine and Ariel’s greeting hug I asked him if he wanted one too and he politely declined. (And then quickly added that he was also glad to see me again.) Since then he’d never done the whole like non-verbal hug ask thing where you like hold out your arms to show you want a hug. So, I figured he just wasn’t into them and had left it at that until that specific night. And even though he’d started to gently hug me back, I started to pull away. “Sorry! Sorry!” I said quickly. I very purposefully looked not at him as blood rushed to my cheeks. “I should’ve asked!” Erik stopped my retreat with his right hand that was still on my back. “Yes you should have asked first,” he said. He sounded stern, but not angry. “However, we can hug right now if you want.” I let out a happy squeak as I catapulted myself into another hug. He snorted and gave me a soft, but awkward squeeze. Part of it was because the top of my head didn’t even reach his sternum. But, I think the weirdness of the hug came more from the fact that if he tried to hug me like a normal-sized person did, it would basically be like he was just giving himself a hug. So instead he had the ends of the fingers on one hand lightly curled around the top of my right shoulder and his other hand resting across the lower part of my shoulder blades. Like Ariel, his hug also felt warm in terms of temperature. However where as she was squishy and soft, he was literally a rock. Like there was some give, but not much. Before I could catch it, I let out a yawn. “I think someone’s tired,” Ariel teased. Erik started to push away but I closed my eyes, leaned my forehead into him, and let my arms drop to my sides. “Iz ‘kay. I’ll just sleep like this,” I said in a mock-tired voice. “I am fairly sure you can’t sleep standing up,” Erik said as he put both of his large hands on the front of my shoulders and gently shifted my weight off of him and onto my own feet. “I know that it doesn’t work for me at least.” I dramatically rolled my eyes before flopping backwards onto my bed, behind me. “Fiiine.” They both laughed. Since that got the reaction I had wanted, I flipped over and crawled underneath my sheets. “Night!” I said as I set the car keys on the night stand and took my glasses off. “Hey, I didn’t get my goodnight hug then!” Ariel pretended to whine. “Get over here then!” She bounced over and daintily sat down on the bed beside me. We both giggled as we tried to figure out how to give a side hug. “Night, Ken!” “G’night, Ariel!” We did one last squeeze before she moved to her and Erik’s bed, which was on the other side of the nightstand. I made my hands into a heart at Erik. “G’night, Erik!” With my glasses off I couldn’t actually tell for sure, but it looked like he gave me a heart hand back. “Sleep well, Ken.” “You too!” I replied and snuggled in for the night.

—

By 2 PM the next day, I regretted making such a fuss about wanting to drive. We’d been admiring a particularly large hot spring when there was a breeze that felt a lot colder than it should have on such a sunny day. I glanced in the direction the wind came from and groaned. The horizon was covered in dark, foreboding clouds and I thought I saw some small flashes of light in them. The forecast for the day hadn’t included rain so we’d left our coats at the hotel. Erik pointed out that if the storm did reach us, we didn’t know how long it would last so it would be a good idea to go back and get them. Of course we’d been on the complete other side of the park from where we were staying. Which meant it seemed to take forever to get back to our room. We checked to see if the storm was supposed to be severe but didn’t find anything, so we headed back out to where we’d been. At first there was just a light pitter-patter of drops landing on the windshield. I joked that we could have left the rental convertible’s top down, as both Erik and Ariel looked rather squished. But before we were half way back to the trail the rain changed to a raging downpour. The part of the main road we were on snaked along the edge of the valley most of the park laid in so there was no shoulder to pull onto. I turned the car’s emergency lights on and slowed to crawl, hoping there was a turn off nearby. Erik was my acting navigator and had already pulled out our paper map of the park. I started to look at him when suddenly the front end of the car jerked to the right; in the direction of the valley. I yanked the wheel to the left and slammed on the brakes but it was too late. We’d already gone over the edge of the cliff. I couldn’t do anything but wait. I could tell we were picking up speed and I hoped we smashed into something—a tree, a rock—anything to slow us down before we crashed into the valley floor. I heard Erik yell something and felt a stream of wind and rain, then noticed that the little sunlight there’d been get dimmer. It all seemed very far away though. But everything quickly came back into focus as we somehow jerked to a slow stop. Then, somehow, the car started to right itself from being almost vertical to horizontal. At the same time I felt my stomach drop like it would on carnival rides that quickly move up and down. Then everything in front of us lit up again but I was still frozen in my seat. Looking back through the windshield was a large face. Like it was taller than even Erik was; if Ariel stood on Erik’s shoulders, I think the head would still have been taller. And the colors weren’t right. The hair was a reddish-purple. The skin was a deep blue, except for the red lips and two sets of markings. One pair looked like a set of red, winged eyeliner that didn’t actually go on the eyelids. The other set was made of a line, thicker than my arm on either side of the nose and the same color as the first markings. And then there were the eyes. What should have been the whites of the eyes was a pale yellow and the irises where the same color as amber. At some point, Erik must have grabbed onto my upper arm as I was aware of him holding onto just a little too tightly. He was yelling something in his language and I realized he was yelling at the blue being in front of us. They cowled at him briefly before the large, golden eyes turned to me and their expression softened. Erik stopped shouting. “Ken, are you okay?” they asked, their voice rolling over me like thunder. But… it still sounded familiar. I quickly looked to where Ariel should have been sitting. Instead, the end of a large, blue finger with a nail that was almost as long as my forearm rested there, entering the car through an open back door. “Ariel?” I squeeked as I turned back around and shoved myself as far back into my seat as I could. I was suddenly aware of the other large fingers surrounding the car on the back an either side. It was as though the hand was holding up a small model car for its owner to admire. “Yes, Ken, it’s me,” my now large and blue friend replied. “You’re alright. You’re safe now.” “Ariel,” Erik growled beside me. “Set the car back on the road and get inside. Now.” She glared at him again but said, “Ken, I’m going to put you down now, so don’t drive away without me, kay?” I didn’t reply. I just kept the brake pedal pushed as far to the floor as I could, where it had been the entire time. Ariel switched to holding the car from above with her other hand. My stomach dropped again as she gently placed us on the far side of the road. Then before I had time to process really anything that had happened in the last few minutes, Ariel stood by her car door looking normal again. She looked like a long-haired cat that had been dunked completely underwater, but otherwise how I’d always known her. “Can I please come in, Ken?” she pleaded through the open door. “I promise we’ll explain everything.” I looked at Erik in suprise. They spent almost all their time together, of course he would know about Ariel. But the way in which he cautiously observed my face hinted that Ariel wasn’t the only one with a secret. I looked down at the steering wheel and slowly shook my head yes, feeling as though I didn’t really have a choice anymore. Erik finally let go of my arm. “Sorry,” he said in a soft voice. “If you want to, once the weather clears some you and I can exchange seats and I can drive us back to the hotel.” “Yeah,” I responded numbly. We waited with only the sound of the storm to fill the silence. Once we could clearly see the road again, he cleared his throat before opening his car door and stepping out. Refusing to look at either of them, I unbuckled and crawled over the cup holders to the front passenger seat, closed the door he’d left open, and clicked my new seat belt into place. It made me uncomfortable that the seat was still warm. Erik got in and wordlessly did the same before starting the car. I listlessly led us into the hotel. The front desk clerk made a joke about the rainstorm as both Ariel and Erik were still soaking wet. Ariel responded in kind and they asked if we wanted to bring any extra towels with us to our room. Erik said yes and I could tell both he and Ariel stopped walking in order to do so. I didn’t stop though. Neither of them went after me. Once in the room I didn’t bother taking my shoes or coat off. I just turned straight into suite’s bathroom and locked the door behind me. I turned the shower on. I wasn’t going to use it, but it just felt like the right thing to do. I moved the curtain so water wouldn’t splash all over the floor though. Then I kicked my shoes off, grabbed them, then stuffed myself under the sink and against the wall. There was a loud knock at the front door, a moment of silence and then it opened. A second later there was a tentative knock on the bathroom’s door. I responded by pulling my coat’s hood over my head and pretending to disappear. “Ken?” It was Ariel. My breath caught in my throat and the first few tears spilled onto my face. “Ken? When you’re done in their, can we please talk? I promise all we want to do is explain things to you and then you can decide what you want to do after that, okay? You can even go home early if you want; we’d buy you the ticket.” I didn’t move. I heard Erik say something to her before their footsteps went further into the bedroom. I heard them shuffling and moving things around for a few minutes. There was another knock on the bathroom door. “We will be in the lobby,” Erik said. He waited a moment, then I heard the front door open, footsteps  move into the hallway, and the door shutting again. I refused to move until I was somewhat certain they really had left the room. I tried to cry quietly until then too, but I gave up after a bit and sobbed in fits and starts. I still didn’t want to leave the safety of beneath the sink so I awkwardly felt around the counter above until I found the tissue box. I don’t know how full it was before I got a hold of it, but it was empty by the time I was cried out. I listened for movement before I left my safety spot. The bathroom was fully steamed up at this point. I felt bad for wasting so much water and turned the shower off. I took my jacket off and sat on the toilet lid to figure out if there was some way I could escape. As far as I knew, the only door that didn’t have a fire alarm attached was the one in the lobby so I couldn’t go out that way. We were on the second floor of the hotel with no features to hold onto nearby, so even if I did figure out someway to get through the window there was no way I was going to jump that far. I was afraid of what They might do if police or the fire department showed up to rescue me so no 911 calls. A bit of a similar thing if I called my parents. Also they were like 5 Midwest-sized states away so it would take too long to wait for them to get to me. Had this entire trip been some sort of plan to get me alone? But why? I’d never been a fan of the human-eating giant trope and besides, they’d had plenty of opportunities to do something like that before now. Like that afternoon! They could theoretically still try to kidnap me at some point. Did they plan on keeping me as some sort of pet? I groaned and put my head between my legs. All that succeeded in doing was making my head hurt from too much blood. There really wasn’t much I could do. And the bathroom was way too hot and humid and I was tired of staring at the tiled floor. I stood up and cautiously moved to the door. I unlocked it, waited, nothing happened. I opened the door less than an inch, waited, nothing. I opened it up halfway, put my glasses on, and peered into the other room. Erik and Ariel’s two large suitcases were up against the wall across from my door. On top of Ariel’s was a piece of paper and I could tell there was writing on it, but not what it said. Nothing else in the room seemed off so I slid out of my self-made sauna to take a closer look. I picked up her letter, but did yet another quick look around. It didn’t seem like any of my things had been moved, but the few things the other two had scattered around the room throughout the week were gone and I figured they must be in the suitcases next to me. I took a deep breath and read what Ariel had left me.

“Dear Ken, I’m so so sorry for scaring you today. But I’m even more sorry that my friend and I kept the truth about our real selves from you. We never meant to get this close to you; to anyone. I know that you must feel really scared, and that’s totally understandable! But please, just hear us out? You have our word that you get to decide what happens next! If you never want to go home right afterwords, we’ll buy your plane ticket electronically and you can take the rental car to the airport by yourself! If you never want to see or hear from us again you won’t! But please, please, can we talk? It would have to be in private of course and I’m really, really sorry for that. We know you aren’t comfortable around us anymore. It would just be in the hotel room. Erik and I will look and be the size you’ve always known us as. I know this is asking a lot, and I’m super duper sorry that we put you in this position. I have our cell phone with me when you’re ready. Ariel”

I sat down on my bed, pulled my phone out, and stared at it. I really did want to go home and never interact with them again. But that meant being alone with them. Shit, if they could change they’re size and what they looked like why couldn’t they just fucking shrink me if they wanted! But other than this one, very important thing, it seemed as though they’d never lied to me. They both made it a point to follow through with any promises they made. Until now, I’d trusted them. Although given the current situation I’d probably trusted more easily than I should have. “Heh, hindsight is 20/20,” I grumbled and pushed my glasses further up onto my nose. I unlocked my phone and opened the text app, “Okay. I’m ready.” I pressed send. And immediately realized I most definitely was not ready. I hurried over to the corner made by the top of my bed and the wall and threw my coat over myself. “I’m acting like a fucking rabbit,” I mumbled to myself, “I can’t see you so you can’t see me!” I stayed right where I was “hiding” and didn’t move. A minute or two later, there was a knock on the door. “Ken?” Ariel asked tentatively. I knew I should respond, but I didn’t want to. So I compromised and made a weird, unhappy groan-like noise. “Okay, we’re coming in then.” I listened as they came in and stopped at the end of my bed. “Oh… Ken!” Ariel sounded the most sad I’d ever heard her. I started crying again. “I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “No, no! You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for!” she said, her voice sounding closer to the floor than usual. I wondered if she was kneeling. “You’re scared and upset, and it’s our fault!” She was right but I felt terrible and hell if I knew if I really did feel bad for how I was treating them, or I just felt betrayed and just didn’t know how to react to it, or what the fuck. Thanks to my earlier cry fest, I really didn’t have much left in me and quited down quickly. “We can all stay where we are on the floor if you want,” Erik told me softly. It also sounded like he might be kneeling. “Whatever makes you most comfortable.” I groaned again. They didn’t say anything and I realized that wasn’t really a noise they could act on. I pulled my jacket off my face and stared at them. They were both kneeling on the ground. Ariel was a little ways past the end of my bed and leaning slightly in my direction. Erik was behind her with a hand resting on her back. “You changed clothes?” was the first thing I actually said to them. They glanced down at their outfits as though they were also surprised by this. “Well yes…” he said slowly. “It wouldn’t be right to make the hotel furniture wet.” “But you packed everything?” I tilted my head towards their suitcases. “Like I said, we didn’t want to get everything wet, and damp clothing is uncomfortable.” Despite his shirt being dry, he tugged on it as if to emphasize his point. “So you made all your stuff wet?” “Yes.” “Very logical.” I giggled despite how I felt. Erik and Ariel smiled slightly in response, but still mostly looked worried. I tried to diffuse the situation some more. “I think I should stop being squashed in corners, my feet are falling asleep.” I stretched out a foot and lightly tapped it on the floor. Apparently I was right. I wrinkled my nose, “Shit, I think they really are asleep.” “Do you want help standing up?” I could tell Ariel was holding herself back. “If one of you can fit over here. It’s kind of small.” Ariel started trying to scoot closer to me, “Huh, yeah. I’m going to get stuck like this.” Despite having pins and needles in my feet, I rolled forward on them so that I was on my hands and knees. My face ended up being only a foot away from hers, a lot closer than I expected. After a beat I just accepted it. “If Erik pulls I can help push you out.” She blinked, but then smiled. “I said I was going to get stuck, not that I am!” She backed up past the bed again. I used my bed to help me stand up, but quickly had to lean against the wall for support. Both she and Erik started moving towards me but I shood them away with my free hand. “I’m good! Just too much time on the floor so all the stuff in my head is going, vwoosh!” I tried to mime blood rushing from my head to the rest of my body. “Are you pretending to not be upset anymore?” Ariel asked, sounding worried. “Sort of, I think? But I’m also really bad at holding grudges so…” I shrugged. We were quiet for a moment. Erik spoke first, “Do you have a preference on how we do this? You can stand and we can sit or-” “Sit.” I realized that didn’t fully convey what I meant. “Like uh… can we all sit on one of the beds and I’m between you two and holding your hands and stuff?” Ariel offered me a hand and I latched on. She stepped out of the way so I could get to Erik. He slowly reached a hand out to me, obviously trying to gage my reaction I grabbed him as well before maneuvering us so we could all sit comfortably on the end of the bed. Before they started their explanation I brought their hands to my chest and kind of hugged them to me. “Okay. Now I’m actually ready.”

—

And holy shit was their story something I did not expect. As far as Erik could figure out from his research—which was one of the things he would do while Ariel and I voice chatted—the two of them were from another universe. Erik and Ariel weren’t even their real names. In their culture they’re given a special name by their community’s religious leader and only a select, trusted few ever learn what it is. So, when they’d needed to tell Ana and I what to call them, Ariel said the first pair of names that came to mind. Courtesy of a Disney movies binge. Ariel and Erik had been chosen by their community to fight “the lifeless ones”. They were these blob-looking entities—or maybe different parts of the same being—that drained the life force from any living thing they came in contact with. In their universe, it was easy to fight the lifeless ones. The largest ones only came up to their knees and as long as they used a weapon made from inorganic materials and didn’t let themselves get surrounded, all they had to do was whack or poke the blobs and they would disappear. At some point, their culture’s religious leaders all started having nightmares. Together, they realized they were visions of the lifeless ones obliterating a far off place—Earth. It wasn’t a place that could be reached by normal means though. They somehow knew that wasn’t even a place in their understanding of reality. And that was why the lifeless ones there were much more dangerous. Some were taller than the tallest trees and smallest ones were still as big as boulders. Their leaders realized the place they were seeing had no to fight back. They argued over whether or not to do something about it. They decided they needed to help in someway. Erik and Ariel weren’t sure how it came about exactly, but the leaders learned that they could send a pair of warriors to where the lifeless ones were wreaking havoc and stop them. They knew that whatever had changed the lifeless ones would have a similar affect on the warriors when they arrived. Somehow this only worked one way though. The warriors wouldn’t be able to come home. They chose Erik and Ariel. But no one had been able to figure out in what ways the trip would make them able to stand against the lifeless ones. Would they somehow be stronger? Faster? How would they deal with massive difference in size? As soon as my friends woke up on Earth, they learned the answer to the last question. Without using their abilities, they’re both much taller than Ariel was the afternoon we fell off the road. By a lot. Like your average person is comparable to less than a quarter inch compared to them tall. Over time they learned that they were also naturally invisible to creatures on Earth unless they wanted to be seen. They also could only interact with the lifeless ones unless they were visible and wanted to do something like carry a rock. They didn’t know for how long they fought the lifeless ones after they arrived. But it was long enough that the hoards they fought against became fewer in frequency in number. Eventually they came to have a feeling that their work was nearing it’s end. They started feeling tired in a way they hadn’t before. They wondered if it was the feeling that they’d die soon. They fought against it for as long as they could until one night, they both knew that when they went to sleep they’d never wake up. They said there good-byes to each other then laid down side-by-side under the star-dotted sky. They did wake up though, just not in the usual way. At first they were only aware of themselves individually. They knew who they were and that something was wrong. They couldn’t move, they couldn’t see, or hear, or even breath. Then slowly they felt life coming back to them. They realized the other was still there, beside them. As soon as they could, they sat up. They found themselves in an underground chamber that was actually large enough that they could stand up and lie down, but not much else. They heard small noises that sounded almost like singing, coming from the end of the hall where there head had been. And that’s when they met their first humans. (They’d seen humans around before, but never interacted with them.) Apparently while they’d been sleeping, a very small religion had started with my friends as their deities. The group’s theology even included the lifeless ones, except they were also a bit more like demons at times. They thought the lifeless ones could possess people and animals and that everything bad that happened was due to them. The group believed that the lifeless ones were too numerous again and that their only choice to save the world was to resurrect Erik and Ariel. My friends weren’t happy about this development. Unfortunately they didn’t have a choice but to spend the first few months with their tiny cult. They weren’t able to do much besides be visible to them and on occasion, physically interact with things—specifically food. They started feeling stronger and would test their powers on the rare occasions they were completely alone, just to be safe. When they felt ready they made their escape. It turned out there really was a dangerous amount of lifeless ones, especially given how much the human population had grown while they slept. Erik’s best guess is that they fell asleep at least 4,000 years ago. So yeah. A lot happened while they were out. With no idea on what else to do, they went back to fighting the lifeless ones. When they weren’t doing that, they started learning about modern life. I met them a few years after that. “Wait, okay,” I said at the end of their story. “So not counting the time you were passed out, how old are you guys?” “With the differences in how we measure time… we were around 25 years old when we first arrived on Earth…” Erik said. “But well…” “We don’t think we age,” Ariel finished. “Other than learning new things and normal day-to-day differences in our bodies, we haven’t changed. And it’s another one of those things that we just seem to know.” “Oh.” I said. “That’s going to be weird in a few years.” “You’re speaking as though we’ll be around then,” he said slowly. “Yeah, I guess.” “Please don’t think you have to make a decision now!” Ariel told me with panic in her voice. “You can take as long as you need to and of course you have every right to change your mind at any time!” “So one of the basic constraints of any healthy relationship,” I mused. “It is, isn’t it?” Ariel said after a moment. I squeezed her hand and she did so back. “Well my choice as of right now is that we should sleep. I’m too tired to make any important life-altering decisions after today. Also, what time is it?” We all looked around for a clock. “That one says it’s after 6 PM.” Ariel said, pointing to the one on the bedside table. I remembered cell phones existed and let go of her hand to pull mine out. “Sounds right,” I said. “My stomach also agrees.” “Do you want to eat by yourself tonight?” Erik asked. “No, we need a fun group activity,” I declared. “Let’s find somewhere that serves breakfast for supper!” We stood up and started getting ready to leave. I paused part way through putting on a shoe. “Wait, another question.” “Hmm-mm?” “So you guys don’t have a job and I’m guessing you didn’t get mountains of US dollars when you first got here, so how the fuck are you paying for everything?” I realized with horror what the answer was. “Credit card fraud.” I whispered. “No!” Ariel exclaimed. She looked and sounded as though I’d accused her of murdering a baby. “It’s an ability we discovered recently,” Erik said, also sounding perturbed that I’d accuse them of something so heinous. “We don’t know how it works, but once a month I will the credit card bill to be paid and it happens.” Suddenly he looked sheepish. “Although we only found that out after we obtained our card somewhat illegally.” I finished tying my shoe and stood up. I narrowed my eyes at him, “I know you’re telling the truth but that sounds like complete bullshit.” “I think most people would consider my friend and I even existing as ‘bullshit’.” He shrugged. “Okay, that’s fair,” I admitted. We finished getting our things together before I stopped us from going out the door. “’Nother question,” I explained and turned to try to look them both in the face. I hoped I looked serious. “You guys’ve never said I can’t tell anyone about you…?” Ariel bent over so her face was almost at my eye level. “That’s because we trust you, silly!” My heart fluttered. “Oh.” I looked up at Erik, and with a genuine smile, he nodded in agreement. “I- uh… thank you?” Not knowing what else to do, I spun back around to the door and opened it. “Breakfast for supper still good with ya’ll?” I asked over my shoulder. “If that’s what you want,” Ariel reassured me. I gave her a big smile and stepped out into the hallway. I didn’t know what I’d think about everything tomorrow. But I definitely knew that right then, I wanted to eat pancakes and sausage and ice cream with my two friends who were walking behind me.

[a-touch-of-tmnt-blog]

You Weren’t What I Expected | A TMNT Fanfiction

This is a fan-fiction about four friends, Nadine, Beth, Krista and Chloe, who meet the Turtles and befriend them. As they grow closer together in friendship, and love, secrets about the girls start to emerge. Can everyone be trusted? 

Chapter One

Nadine POV:

For the first time in a long time, it was a calm night here in New York City. There was the usual sound of cars passing by and honking every now and then but there weren’t that many people on the streets walking to and from places. How would I know though, I’m in my apartment watching TV shows again while doing my homework. Typical high school night for me as usual.

“Nadine,it’s time for bed are you finished with your work yet?”a voice yelled from across the hall. My mom was about to come into my room but stopped herself as she got to my door.

“Not yet, let me finish this real quick and I’ll go to bed.” I said as I turn the volume on the TV down a bit. I hear her start to leave as she as she says something to my younger brother. I finish my homework, put everything away and head for bed. Then my phone starts to buzz.

I pick it up and see that I got a text message from Beth, my best friend, who is wondering if I can sneak out for a bit to talk. I text her back that I can’t and put my phone on the charger next to my bed. As I go to turn off the lights, I turn around and see a figure in my window. Before doing anything else, the figure opens the window and sticks her head in.

“You can’t huh?” Beth says quietly as she looks at her phone.

“What is it you need now? Boy drama again?” I sarcastically say a trying not to alert my mom that she’s here. Beth points her finger upwards as if to signal me to go to the roof with her. I roll my eyes and reluctantly grab my slippers and a jacket and head up the fire escape after her. I close my window slightly and head upwards.

“It’s not boy drama but it’s something really cool.” Beth says as she practically runs up the escape. As I get to the top and onto the roof of the building, Beth pulls out her phone and puts it in my face. I focus on it and it’s a picture of a dimly lit alley way with a huge figure standing just near the light.

 “Whoa what is that?” I say as I take the phone from her hand and zoom in on the image. You can’t make out what or who it might be, but it is huge.

“No clue but it doesn’t look like a normal person does it?” Beth asked as she pulled the phone closer to her to look at it as well. “I can make out what looks like a shell colored backpack and from what I can tell, three fingers.”

“Yeah but anyone could have three fingers from birth or like an accident.” I say to her as she gives me a look. “Your still hell bent on finding weird creatures for that contest, aren’t you?” I asked her after a moments silence. At our school, there is a contest to find the most abnormal thing in your neighborhood and the winner would get a cash money prize of 1,000 dollars.

“Yeah but I’m going to need a better photo of this person or thing and I want you to come and help me.” Beth says with her smile that could win awards. Literally, her smile sends shivers down my spine sometimes.

“Like right now?” I say to her almost panicking a bit.

“Yes tonight,” Beth starts to say “No not tonight, silly. You can spend the night at my house tomorrow and then we can go ‘monster hunting’ “She say as she puts it in air quotes.

“I’ll have to ask tomorrow but yeah fine I’ll help you.” I say to her as she pulls me into a hug. We head down the fire escape and I quietly enter my room and shut the window. I see Beth make it to the ally below and she waves behind her head before disappearing into the streets nearby. I take off my jacket and shoes and crawl into bed and fall asleep.

-Next Day-

“Nadine, wake up, you’re going to be late for school!” my mother shouted from the hallway. I opened my eyes and bolted out of bed. I looked at my phone and realized that I had slept through my alarm clock. Crap. I quickly get dressed for school and put my hair in a pony tail and grab my backpack.

“Morning!” I said as I quickly head into the kitchen where my mom and my little brother are already sitting down for breakfast. I put my stuff down and grab a plate of breakfast my mom had just finished making, eggs and toast with bacon.

“Stay up late last night?” my mom said as she gave me a look. I could tell she already knew that Beth popped by for a visit last night and I couldn’t deny it to her. I couldn’t tell her that Beth wanted to find some weird, possibly not real, creature in new York on a Friday night.

“Um well, Beth wanted to know if it’s alright if I spent the night at her house so that we can work on a project for science. We’re partners, and she needs all the help she can get.” I fib a bit to her. My mom knows that Beth is my friend but doesn’t like her actions. I don’t know why though because we never get into trouble.

“Well I have no problem with it, but I want you to text me when you get there and when you’re coming home in the morning. We have things to do tomorrow.” My mom says as we both sit down and eat our breakfast. There’s a long silent moment before my brother chimes in with putting his bacon on his lips like a mustache. My mom starts to smile at him and laugh a little. I chuckle a bit as I finish my breakfast, kiss my mom and brother goodbye, and head out the door.

“Yay this is going to be so much fun! I’m defiantly going to give you guys some credit when I win this photo contest!” Beth explains as we walk through the halls to our class.

“Guys? I thought it was just me and you?” I asked a bit baffled by what she said. Beth looks at me and does her awkward pose where she intertwines her fingers together and bites her lower lip. She does this when she wants to surprise someone or she’s embarrassed.

“I had asked Chloe and Krista if they wanted to tag along and Chloe said yes, haven’t heard from Krista.” Beth said as she looked at me. Chloe is our other friend who’s normally not into night adventures, but I guess Beth convinced her in some way. Krista, on the other hand, is more of a school mate who we used to hang out with in middle school, but don’t anymore for no reason at all.

“What makes you think that Krista is going to want to come over tonight if everything else we’ve done hasn’t worked out before?” I asked Beth as we enter our class and take our seats.

“I thought I’d give it a shot.” Beth explained, putting her backpack down and sitting in her seat. As the class started for the day, all I could think of was about my mother and why we had to be somewhere tomorrow. She could have easily just said that it involved my father and not this beat-around-the-bush gig. Before I knew it, it was already the next class period. I spent the rest of the day focusing on the school work at hand.

It finally got to the end of the day. Beth had texted Chloe and Krista that we would either meet at the train station or at her apartment, and gave them the address. Me and Beth on the other hand were ready to head out to her apartment. We started gossiping on our way to the train station about all the people would be shocked to see her photo be the winner of this contest. 

“Hey, Beth, Nadine, wait up!” shouted a voice behind us as we were about to board a train. It was Chloe and she was running to catch up to us. When she did, the train doors had closed, and she had barely made it.

“You know you could have texted me but it’s fine you’re here now.” Beth says excited as Chloe finally caught her breath. It took us about 30 minutes, from the train to walking, to get to Beth’s apartment. When we got there, it had looked like she spent most of last night making a giant blanket fort for us to stay in.

“Wow how long did it take for you to do this?” Chloe asked as she put her stuff down and took off her shoes at the door.

“Almost all night. By the way, my parents aren’t going to be home for the weekend so if you want and your parents allow, you can stay for a couple nights.” Beth added in as she went to the kitchen to grab our snacks she kept mentioning on the train ride up here. I put my stuff down and took my shoes off as well and crawled into the fort, with Chloe right behind.

“Wow there are fairy lights in here too!” Chloe said as she was more amazed than I was about the whole thing. Beth comes in and puts all sorts of snacks down and we spend the next half an hour talking and eating, mostly gossip though.

“From what I heard Angie hates me just because I happened to be partners with her boyfriend for biology, but she’s lucking out cause he’s really stupid.” Chloe said as she was laying down sideways. Me and Beth both chuckled at that fact.

“Yeah but at least you’re not Angie’s partner.” Beth added in as she took a bite of a chip. “I heard he’s planning on skipping class on presentation day because she’s so uptight.” Chloe and me both laughed a bit and then Beth pulled out her camera. “Smile you two!” she said.

“Really, you’re going to take our picture now.” I say as a smile forms on the corner of my mouth. Beth motions for me and Chloe to get closer and to strike a pose. We do so as the camera flashes into our eyes. She shows us on the camera and it’s good with the sheets and lights in the background and the two of us posing the same pose.

“Now that the warm-up is done, it’s time we head out and find this thing.” Beth says as she pulls up the photo from her phone to remind us of why we were here in the first place.

“Wait you were serious about that?!” Chloe said as she was panicking a bit.

“Of course, I was, do you honestly even know me to not be serious about a good shot?” Beth asked rhetorically to Chloe, who was now a little terrified of the situation. Just as I was about to chime in, I heard a noise come from outside. I crawl out of the tent and head towards the window where the sound was, and I see a bunch of thugs down below, knocking over trash cans and being loud in the alleyway below. Beth and Chloe heard the noise finally and came to the window as well.

“Purple Dragons, they always cause problems down here.” Beth says as she leans on the window seal with her right arm.

“Yeah well at least your dad isn’t one of them so count your blessings.” I mutter under my breath. I could tell Chloe was about to ask what I meant by that, but then we were interrupted by a woman’s scream in the alley below. From the angle we looked down, the thugs had found someone to harass.

“What should we do?” Chloe said as she stepped away from the window. Beth slowly pulled the window up without making a sound and stuck her head and her camera out with her. I quietly tried to signal her to come back in, but it was too late. She had turned off the flash and took their picture of their activity and came back inside. We viewed the photo and saw that the girl that was being harassed was Krista.

“We have to get her up here!” Beth said as she bolted for the door to go confront the guys. Me and Chloe followed behind, yelling at Beth that it’s not a clever idea and to call the cops instead. By the time we got down to the alleyway, the thugs were either unconscious or ran away, with Krista on the ground as well.

“Hey Krista, are you ok?” Chloe said as Krista was trying to stand.

“Yeah, I’m fine, stupid thugs.” Krista said as she stood up with Chloe’s help. “Did you see the size of those guys though?”

“You mean the thugs, yeah average height and there were a lot of them.” Beth said as she was about to usher us all inside in case they woke up or came back for more.

“No, not those wimps, I mean they guys that took them out.” Krista said. All of us stood there in shock and disbelief at what she said. There weren’t any other people in alley but the Purple Dragons and Krista. She rolled her eyes held out her hand for Beth’s phone. She pulled the phone from her pocket and Krista snatched it and pulled up the photo of the creature. “They looked like this but there was more than what is shown here.”

“Krista are you 100 percent sure you saw this tonight.” Beth asked, walking up to Krista and looking her in the eyes. Me and Chloe both held our breaths and looked at each other. As much as I love Beth, she can become a bit obsessive over certain things. Krista nodded her head and I could tell that a huge smile came onto Beth’s face. Beth took her phone from Krista and turned to me and Chloe.

“Let’s go find them.” She said holding her camera that was strapped around her neck in the sweetest and most sinister voice I’ve heard from her.

Note: this is just the first chapter so i wanted to introduce everyone before they meet the turtles and vice versa. The turtles will be in the next chapter so don’t freak out. I hope you enjoyed it. Next chapter will be out soon.

Also here is a link to what they look like if you’re curious [x]

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Resource Management, pt24

Word Count: 1897 Tags: @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @samaxraph99 @anotherotter  @outside-the-government @kingarthurscat @coyote-in-space @originalpottervengerlock @dolamrothianlady @curiositywillbethedeathofme @superheroesofbothuniverses @mtriestowrite @wanderingkat77

It was probably stupid to go home, not knowing if Garrett was going to want me back. I couldn’t see him needing me, but he was crazy enough to want to kill me, and it gave me pause. But I wanted clean clothes, and a shower, and something to eat. I wanted the comfort of my own home. I wanted to hold my passport in my hand, and know that if the world stayed completely upside down, I could escape home, into the forests of northern BC, and not worry about anyone coming after me. Of course, once again, I had no way into my apartment. Fortunately, once again, my super was a champ about letting me in. This time, however, he had more to say about my job.

“Did you even know, Annie? Sometimes the grunts don’t know,” he muttered.

“I had no idea, Bob.” It was true. I still didn’t have the details, but I’d known there was a HYDRA infiltration. But we’d never had the chance to figure out how deeply it went. Cecelia Banks was a genius.

“The grunts never know.” He patted me on the shoulder and pushed my door open.

“Thanks, Bob.”

“What are you going to do now?” He asked.

“Good question. I don’t know,” I admitted.

“You let me know if you need anything, sweetie. You’re a good tenant, and good people,” he rested his hand on my arm.

“Thanks, Bob.” I closed my door and went directly to the bathroom. I started running the tub, hot, and full of Epsom salts and bubbles, and poured myself a full tumbler of whiskey. I stripped down and dropped my clothes in the hamper before padding back to the tub, glass in hand. I slipped under the bubbles and sighed. I wasn’t able to let go of everything, but I released a fair amount of tension just letting the heat soak into me. I leaned my head against the tub surround and closed my eyes.

I must have nodded off. I heard a knock on my door, and realized my water had gone cold. I slipped out of the tub and into my bathrobe. I crept to the door as quietly as I could and peered out the peephole. There was no one there, at least, no one I could see. There was no way I was opening the door. I stepped away and went to get dressed.

I made myself a peanut butter sandwich and flopped down to turn on CNN. I wanted to know what all was going on. I kept the volume low, and heard a knock on my door again. This time I ignored it. I heard the door unlatch and open and dropped to the floor in front of my couch.

“Annie, it’s Bob. I have something for you,” he called. I crawled around the living room and came up behind my cracked open door. I peered through the peephole again to make sure he was alone. He was.

“Let me open the door, Bob.” I shut it and unlatched the chain to pull the door open. Bob stepped in, his grey work coat pulled closed. He pulled a gun and holster out and handed it to me.

“This is my service revolver, honey. I’ve been glued to the TV since that first flying ship came down. You need it more than I do.” He dug in his pockets and pulled out a couple of box of bullets.

“Bob, I can’t –“

“Way I see it, kiddo, you have to. You’re not the kind of girl to not be some kind of important. And if you aren’t with the terrorists, it means they’ll be looking for you. My money says you probably have some secrets tucked in your brain that someone would kill to keep quiet. Take the gun. You’re from the Midwest somewhere, right?” He interrupted.

“I’m from western Canada –“

“I’m pretty sure I have your mom’s address in St. Louis on your lease. I’ll forward anything important to you there,” he cut me off again with a wink. “You should really think about going home for a visit until this blows over.”

He shuffled back out the door and disappeared down the hallway. I felt sick. He’d worked for one of the agencies for years, and if he thought I should run, he was probably right. I went to start packing. I pulled out my backpack and carefully picked the stitching out of the big maple leaf badge. I only packed a couple of days worth of clothes, as I had lost my purse in the safe house somewhere, so had only the cash that was stuffed in the mason jar in the back of my baking cupboard to get me anywhere. And considering I’d already raided it once recently, there wasn’t much left. I changed into the same cargo pants and sweatshirt I’d worn the last time I’d be ‘on the run’, hoping for similar luck. It was a moment of weakness, but I really wanted Phil to sweep in and save the day. I wasn’t usually a Disney princess, but this time I really wanted to be rescued.

I grabbed a few things that I couldn’t live without, just in case I wouldn’t be coming back, and tucked them away in an inner pocket in my bag. I slipped my laptop into the padded back panel and zipped it closed. I took a final look around my apartment, mentally saying goodbye to my books. Everything else was replaceable, but the books would be a loss if I couldn’t return. I opened my desk to dig around for my passport, and couldn’t find it. I opened the next drawer and moved the papers in it around, but it wasn’t there either. I double checked the first drawer again and checked my night table. No passport. I knew it hadn’t been in my purse, I’d only used to it to replace the ID that had gone up in the first attack on the Triskelion, and clearly remembered putting it back in my desk. I pulled every single item out of both drawers, but my passport was gone. The small envelope that I kept my Canadian ID in was also missing. Someone was trying to trap me in the USA.

My heart started racing again. I had about forty bucks in cash and no identification. It was going to make a border crossing difficult. I could hear voices in the hall, and what sounded like the crackle of a radio. It stopped right outside my door. I slid everything back into my desk and peered out the peephole. A couple of guys carrying guns in black tactical gear were gesturing to one another. I backed away from the door and headed to the kitchen window. I looked out, but didn’t see anyone watching the window. Whoever they were, like Garrett, they were underestimating me. I slid my window open and hopped onto the fire escape. I climbed down to the alley and walked away from my building as calmly as I could. When I was sure I was clear, I sped up and didn’t look back until I was on the metro on the way toward the bus station.

It was dark in New York City when I got off the bus. I’d bought the ticket for the busiest place I could think of, where I had the best chance of blending into the crowd. It wasn’t until I was halfway there that I thought that I might be able to track down Tony Stark at the Avengers Tower.

I walked into the lobby of the building and approached the security desk.

“Can I help you?” The security guard was old, and his shoulders stooped forward a little. His silver hair was brushed straight back, and he had a big bushy mustache that reminded me of my granddad. I couldn’t help but smile at him.

“I need to see Mr. Stark.”

“It’s 10:30,” he put me off.

“If I know Tony, that means he should just be cranking the stereo in the lab,” I nodded. If he was here, I thought. The guard raised his eyebrows and looked down at the computer screen. He typed something in.

“He would have left a name if he was expecting anyone. There’s no list for tonight.” He shook his head.

“If you could just call up to him?” I implored.

“If you know Mr. Stark, like you say you do, you know he doesn’t like being bothered when he’s working,” the guard typed something else into the computer.

“I do know that,” I said, “but this is kind of an emergency.”

A tall redhead walked off the elevator towards us, talking on the phone.

“No, I’m telling you, this is a total mess. A building was literally destroyed by a helicarrier with one of our new proprietary engines in it, and I’m going to be doing damage control for days about why you have terrorists using your tech. So no, Tony, I am not coming back upstairs,” she sounded flustered, and the hair, coupled with the conversation, made me realize she was Pepper Potts. I wanted to reach out and grab her, but she looked over and saw me standing there and stopped.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Potts, I told her –“

“Who are you?” She interrupted the security guard. Tony was still on the other end of the phone, I could see the timer on the screen counting up airtime.

“Anna Ellis.” If I said it louder than I needed to, it was because I saw that the call was still live. Potts jerked her head away from the phone and glared at me.

“How do I know you’re Anna Ellis?” She demanded.

“Please, Ms. Potts. I don’t have any ID and I have three dollars and ninety-six cents left. I have nowhere else to go.” I wanted to sit down and cry.

“But how do I know you’re who you say you are?” She put the phone down on the counter between us and hit the speaker button. Tony didn’t say a word.

“Tony brought a bunch of art into my office a few weeks ago,” I started.

“Too easy.” They said it in unison.

“The Starry Night was fake, but the Sunflowers were real. The hideous art deco Iron Man print was the real focal point of the room though,” I continued. Potts shook her head, still not convinced.

“He added pages to my Thor scrapbook that wound up having some sort of computer chip embed in them that allowed him to hack the SHIELD servers and discover Agent Coulson was still alive,” I concluded. I had nothing else. Potts went pale.

“Phil Coulson?” She shrieked, “Tony, Phil is alive and you didn’t tell me?” If she’d been able to beat him through the phone, I think she would have. The elevator doors opened and Tony stepped out, then stepped back in. Potts spun around and stalked toward the mirrored doors, practically glowing red with rage.

“Pepper –“

“Oh no you –“

“Pepper, Annie needs me alive if I’m going to help her.” He cut her off and darted around her, pocketing the phone. I was so relieved on seeing him that I slumped down against the security desk and started to cry.

[chattyconnor]

What I’ve Learned About Truth and Responsibility

All the trigger warnings...this is going to be painful.

Today has been a jarring one. It’s been one of those days where you have to call on everything you’ve ever experienced and everything you’ve ever learned and still it’s not quite enough to carry you through the hurt. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out my message for this post, and it’s essentially about #truth. It’s about truth and understanding that at ANY POINT, you can choose to step off the train leading you in the wrong direction and find a path that leads you someplace that represents the person you truly are. 

Now, it’s important to recognize here that I’m not talking about truth at all costs in all forms in all matters. Everyone is allowed to have their secrets. Some things just aren’t the business of anyone else. But in gaming there is a concept known as AOE, or Area of Effect. Sometimes secrets can become a poison with a radius that extends far beyond your own heart and start to impact the people around you, the people you are supposed to love. And with my own son on the way, I now need to be very careful about the kind of poison I allow in my life.

I’ve recently been enlightened as to some secrets my family has been keeping. Some of that is my fault because for years I have kept my silence in the hopes that I would be sparing those I loved from pain. And that’s where the #responsibility part comes into play. Because it turns out the secrets I was keeping and the pain I thought...hoped...I was sparing people wasn’t my responsibility at all. All I was doing by staying silent was allowing pain to thrive and grow, both in my life and in the lives of those around me. But that is the case no more, as I have learned that the people who actually WERE responsible for mitigating that pain weren’t interested in doing that at all. Thus, today’s extraordinarily painful and somewhat shameful post. 

I was 9 or 10 the first time my father drunkenly crept into my room to molest me. We were stationed at Hickam AFB, Hawaii, I think he had just come back from the bowling alley, although I can’t really be sure. And as I woke up to him pressed against me I remember being confused. I remember trying to rationalize what was happening. I was always told how smart I was as a child, how impressed the adults had always been with me. So I remember thinking to myself “this must be a test...mom and dad must be testing me to see how I respond in emergency situations.” I was thinking of it like a fire drill, or knowing what to do when a stranger tries to get you to help them look for their lost dog. What do you do when the chips are down? But I was also paralyzed with fear. I couldn’t understand the things being done to me, let alone why it was happening. When it was over, I waited a little while, and then tiptoed into my parents room (I think I actually even crawled along the floor at one point) and woke my mom up. We went downstairs and I told her what my father had done to me. And she listened and cried and told me she was so sorry. I don’t remember much else about what was said that night, but I DO remember the next morning. I wanted to go to my best friend’s house just a couple of blocks away. I walked into my parents bedroom and saw them sitting on their bed having a very serious conversation. They looked at me and told me they were talking about last night. My dad said he was so sorry and nothing like that would ever happen again. I could see the struggle on my mom’s face. And, as a child, I looked at them and thought about our life. I told them it wasn’t important enough to break up our family over. Dad was an officer in the military and mom didn’t have a job that could support us...what were we going to do if she divorced him? I told them not to worry, that I was okay, and can I please go to my friend’s house? They let me go.

The next seven years were a living version of my own personal hell. The abuse wasn’t nightly or weekly...but it was often enough that I was afraid to sleep at night. It was often enough that I was startled awake every morning...or every time he snuck into my room. It was often enough that I was in my 20s before I could be naked, even living alone in my own apartment. It was often enough to be more than traumatic. And it didn’t stop until I finally moved out of the house at 17. He was rarely drunk when it happened, it was mostly just something he liked to do. A way to exercise his power. My mother was the one who was drunk. From Hawaii, to Germany, to Texas she crawled deeper and deeper into the bottle (or in her case, the can) and he took advantage of me by sexually abusing me whenever it seemed the mood struck. And every time it happened I was afraid that me telling her would be an excuse she would use to drink even more, so I stayed quiet. And every time it happened he apologized. He said it would never happen again. He promised I would never have to pay for college or worry about anything in my life, he would take care of it. He treated me like a whore. Once, he recorded his abuse of me, and when I noticed the camera and flipped it the bird (I was only 14 or 15 at the time so I felt like a real rebel) he let me feel like I was in charge by letting me destroy the tape. I didn’t know I was destroying the only evidence I know about. I was only worried about my mother and my little sister. Maybe I could keep her from drinking enough to kill herself, maybe I could keep my sister safe if his attention was focused on me. Maybe I could keep us out of a foster home. Maybe maybe maybe. I still had no idea none of that was my responsibility. I kept the truth from everyone so we would continue to look like the perfect family. Two successful parents with two charming little girls, one who excelled in her studies and one who excelled in sports. 

That’s where my sister comes in. With everything in the news about Larry Nassar, it’s easiest for me to explain that that was essentially what he was doing to her. She was a national level gymnast who trained so much that she home-schooled her freshman year of high school to maintain her training schedule. And she was always injured or sore. So my father, being the former athlete that he was, took it upon himself to “massage” her hurts. To abuse her too. Just like Nassar did to hundreds and hundreds of gymnasts. I didn’t find out about this until years after I moved out and still can’t accept the idea that it’s not my fault. I didn’t abuse her, but my silence allowed it to happen. To this day she tries to convince me that I’m not to blame...I just don’t really see it that way. 

I never wanted any of this to come to light, because my mother has been sober for years. I’ve been so proud of her, and it’s been important to me to not throw her off track. So I would continue to come home for breaks, they had a ball at my wedding, they had Thanksgiving just this last year in my new home. I told my husband years before we got married about what happened to me, and he chose to follow my lead and be civil to my parents for my sake. But it always confused me as to how she couldn’t see her husband suffers from what I now know is Narcissistic Personality Disorder (#NPD) and that she was a victim to him just like the rest of us were. And then today I learned the truth. I learned she’s known about this since about the time of her “recovery” six years ago. She watched my father and me argue at every visit, she watched me dance around issues being cryptic and never fully expressing myself...all the while knowing that this man she became “born-again” with was a lying hypocrite and a sex offender. What’s worse, I learned that while she may not have known the extent of the abuse against my sister, she would leave the room during her “massages”...no responsible mother who already knew her husband had sexually abused one of her daughters would ever do that. No loving mother would ever do that. I especially know that now as I am about 6 months away from becoming a mother myself. The worst part is, they didn’t even confess this to me...they told my little sister and let her bear the burden of knowing this information because they were too cowardly to come forward themselves. They once again passed the responsibility of parenting off to their children. And when my sister told me today she was as devastated as I was. 

My family has never been religious. Since people have so much disdain for the word atheist (and since very few people can actually wrap their heads around what that means) I like to refer to myself as a Secular Humanist. I believe in the power of people to help others and make change, and to make the most intelligent and compassionate decisions they can by having all of the information presented to them. So when my father and mother found their “path to God” I was fine with whatever made them happy. But when I found out he was leading a weekly bible study in his home, when I found out he was offering spiritual and life advice to his brothers and sister, my uncles and aunt, I had a harder and harder time staying quiet. How can this man, who sexually abused both of his children, be leading people through the wilderness? People who look to him as so full of wisdom and grace. People who see this retired #AirForce officer and his loving wife and successful grown daughters and assume he has some secret way of living that they don’t know. The two traits he hates the most in people are arrogance and dishonesty. Two traits he displays literally every day. And when he asked me a couple of days ago what he could do to help me heal I told him he could live a quiet life of truth. He could stop pushing his “wisdom” on people, or at least tell them who he really is. He then (and this is a classic #Narcissist move) proceeded to tell me why that was wrong. Why he couldn’t stop guiding others who were placed in his path, and that because he walks with God he basically doesn’t care what people on Earth think about him, as their opinion doesn’t matter in the end. That, combined with the knowledge that my mother has known for years what kind of man he truly is, has led me to the place I find myself now. 

I am now forced to decide when and if my son will ever meet his grandparents. I’m now forced to wonder if my extended family will continue to take the advice of a man who has held himself holier-than-all-of-us for so many years. (Seriously, how often can a person tell you how humble and changed they are before they brag themselves out of those descriptors?) But, on the plus side, I am free from the poisonous cloud of their secrets. I am free from the responsibility that was never supposed to be mine to begin with. I write this message for a number of reasons. One is in hopes that this aching in my heart will begin to subside. One is in some form of prayer that the people that look to him for guidance and wisdom will see him for the arrogant, predatory narcissist he truly is. And one is in the hopes that if anyone reading this is struggling with a secret that they’ve been too scared to share out of the fear of what it might do to others, that you realize how damaging keeping the secret can be. Damaging to you and to the people you love. I hope you realize that no ones health or sobriety is your responsibility and you can do nothing for people who aren’t willing to help themselves. No one is perfect, and no one should be able to cast stones, but I can no longer maintain my silence when the people I love are being swindled by a snake-oil salesman. To my extended family: a broken clock is right twice a day, and you deserve better. Or even if you think you don’t, you at least deserve to make the decisions as to where you get your nuggets of wisdom knowing as much of the information as I can give you. Combine that with everything else you know and do what’s best for you, like I didn’t for so so long.

The cycle ends here. The cycle ends with me. I love you.

[hushedhands]

Challenge 60

@cecilia02 Both of these sort of happened in here!

*First rebel attack after The One, and America having a panic attack

Looking back, America wasn't sure what she would have done if she and Maxon hadn't been in the same room when it happened. She'd only been Queen for six months, and most of her time was spent managing the Palace schedule and taking royal lessons from Silvia. Someday America hoped to have enough time left in her day to do something substantial with her new position. To help society by starting initiatives and championing causes or something. For now, she had no idea how she'd ever have time to do more than browse upholstery patterns and memorize names and faces of foreign dignitaries.

Maxon was thriving, though. He still felt uncertain from time to time, but he had a good rapport with his advisers now, and they really seemed to respect his progress over the past almost year since King Clarkson had died. That being said, America still wasn’t ready to attend many meetings with Maxon, and Maxon was far too busy to sit with her as she picked between various curtain samples.

So it truly was a miracle that Maxon and America were in the same room in the middle of a workday when it happened.

She'd come into his office to ask about his schedule for the weekend. She desperately missed May and Gerad and little Astra, and she wanted to invite them to the Palace for a picnic. She was hoping Maxon would be able to find the time to join them for a few minutes. Gerad adored Maxon, and if Kenna's husband made it to the picnic, too, then he and Maxon could spend some more time bonding. They were both very busy men, but the few times that they'd managed to socialize in the past had hinted at a very possible friendship in the future. America and Kenna very much wanted to encourage such a possibility.

Technically, it should have only taken a minute for America to ask her question, but Maxon just happened to be between meetings and America was really tired of memorizing the names and faces of the members of the German delegation, so she'd asked Maxon if she could avoid lessons for a few more minutes by hiding here with him. Well, what was he supposed to do?

Of course he invited his young wife to join him on one of the sofas in his office and of course he kissed her until his lips went numb and he was thoroughly dizzy from oxygen deprivation.

But that was when it happened.

The jolt of adrenaline that America got when the shrieks of the rebel alarm blared through Maxon’s office was not a thrilling, exciting kind of rush. This was a hands shaking, vomit-inducing kind of adrenaline spike. She had not heard that siren, except in her nightmares, since before her wedding. Since before Celeste had died and Maxon had been shot. She'd known, of course, that the rebels were still out there, but some small part of her had held at hope that maybe, just maybe, miraculously, they'd never return to the Palace.

"Maybe it's a false alarm." America's voice was nothing but a gasped whisper, her chest rising and falling sporadically, with no rhythm to her breaths.

“I hope… but whether it’s false or not-“ he didn't finish the thought, already half way to the secret panel behind his desk. Never having used the entrance to the stairwells in the King's office before, it took him a moment to find the latch. As soon as he did, he ushered America in and then closed the door behind him.

America wasn’t sure what she had expected. During her time in Maxon's Selection, it had been like a stampede of elephants stomping down to the main safe room. But now, it was only her and Maxon. The vast echo of their lonely footsteps would have been maddening enough, but the added sound of her own ragged breathing had her convinced that she was as good as dead.

“Ames?" Maxon paused at a landing, concerned.

America wanted to tell him that she was fine, but she wasn’t. And she physically couldn’t.

"I need you to breathe." Maxon begged.

She wanted to sarcastically wonder why she hadn’t thought of that sooner. Of course she was breathing as best she could.

Maxon, not sure what else to do, swept her into his strong arms and carried her the rest of the way down.

The guard standing sentry at the safe room looked unspeakably relieved to see them. He radioed a codeword that would tell the rest of the guards, including Aspen, that the monarchs were safe.

"Officer? Report?” Maxon commanded the young man.

He gulped, bowed, then shook his head. "No reports from outside yet." By outside, he meant the guards sweeping the Palace for threats.

Maxon scowled, "I want news the moment you hear it. I don't care about protocol, you open that door and tell me what the hell is going on the second you find out.”

"Y-Yes sir." the guard stammered. He'd just received a direct order from his king, but that order had been to break protocol. He looked miserable about his first ever interaction with his king.

America, still in Maxon’s arms, wheezed an especially labored breath and Maxon hurried into the enormous, empty royal safe room. The reinforced door was locked into place with an ominous ‘thunk'.

All America could think, besides how eminently she and Maxon were going to die, was of how desperately she wanted to be in the gardens right now. The afternoon air, the scent of the rosebushes by her favorite bench…

"I need you to match my breaths, America.”

"There's no air down here-‘'

"Yes, there is. There's lots and lots of it."

Now all America could think, besides how soon a rebel would be shooting through that door, was of how many flights of stairs underground they were.

Maxon sank to the concrete floor and positioned her so that her back was leaning against his chest.

"Breathe with me." he reminded her.

This time she was able to try. It took a long minute of him murmuring in her ear and breathing emphatically, chest rising and falling against her back, but the adrenaline surge subsided, her heartbeat began slowing, and she no longer felt like she'd just run a marathon.

"Will they kill us?" she managed pitifully.

“No. We've an entire army between us and them. How could they?” His words were definitive but his voice didn’t have the usual forcefulness.

"You know that they could." she muttered, vividly remembering the bullet flying through Celeste's head.

Maxon let out a huff of a breath, blowing a strand of her hair straight forward. They were both reliving the worst moment of their lives, but Maxon was the one who had been shot and nearly died. Maxon was the one who had lost both of his parents. So why was America the one who needed help remembering how to breathe?

She could feel control retuning to her body. She was sweating now, but her mind was clearing up, almost as if a fever had broken.

"Was there a threat report?" America asked simply, but she heard the accusation in her own tone of voice. Maxon had a bad habit of trying to hide threats from her, trying to 'protect' her. This was the first attack on the Palace since their marriage, but it wasn’t the first threat to their lives.

Maxon said, “No."

‘’Maxon?"

''What?" he whined. He didn't like the insinuation in her tone.

"Was there a threat report?”

“No!" this time he was defensive, "There was no­ intelligence whatsoever that an attack might be imminent.”

America leaned out of his arms and rotated to face him. The idea that they'd been caught off guard was worse than the idea of Maxon protect­ing her from bad news. Much worse.

America gulped, ''Then we need better intelligence.”

Maxon nodded gravely.

In the long, heavy silence that followed her statement, the room around them seemed to expand. Not literally, just their awareness of how massive this bunker, built for the royal family, truly was. How truly tiny, in comparison, the royal family now was.

Sitting here on the floor together, Maxon and America couldn't have felt more like lost children.

Maxon got to his feet and then pulled America up. They moved to a cot in the corner and sat together, minds numb with fear.

“I've lived through dozens of rebel attacks in my lifetime,” he reasoned, “and only one was ever bad enough to nearly kill me. Odds are, this one is not like that one. Statistically, this is one of the harmless ones.”

America didn't feel like pointing out that the northern rebels, who'd done everything they could to avoid hurting the royal family, weren’t attacking the Palace anymore. Now only the murderous southerners were left. His statistics wouldn't take that into account.

So, instead, she just nodded.

Maxon looked around at the big, empty space surrounding them. It was as if he wanted to fill it with his words. Fill it with his hopes. He said, "We won't die today. And your family is coming to visit this weekend. They're bringing the baby for us to cuddle. I’ll definitely be there for the picnic, by the way.”

America nodded, "Mom will ask me when I'm going to start giving her little grand-princes and princesses.” she rolled her eyes. Her mother truly astonished her sometimes. "I just... I married the Prince, didn’t I? I’m the Queen, for goodness’ sake! And she has the nerve—“

Maxon pressed a kiss to her knuckles, "Leave it to you, my Love, to rant and rave about your mother in the middle of a life-or-death rebel attack.”

America huffed a breath. She was just so grateful to have something else to think about, something other than if the guards upstairs were surviving the attack, that she'd happily let herself get carried away. ''I still feel like a daughter, is what I mean. Not really like a kid anymore... being Queen cured me of that pretty quickly. But certainly, I don't feel like I’m old enough for my mom to be pestering me for grandchildren! I mean, come on!"

This time she'd ranted just to see the enamored smirk on his lips as he watched her. She needed that smirk to keep her grounded through this emergency.

Maxon tore his eyes from hers to heave a sigh, running a hand through his hair, "We're in perfect agreement, Love. I’m barely managing being King right now, how could your mother expect me to be a decent father on top of that?”

America caught the operative words as if they’d been bold, underlined, and completely capitalized. ‘Decent Father'. Maxon didn't think he could be one.

“You will be a wonderful father, one of these days. And mom will be a wonderful grandmother, if I haven't banished her to the northernmost outpost in Whites by then."

Maxon smiled again, but it was strained. He looked around the room, “I don't want to bring any children down here, to this." he gestured to the empty cavern around them.

''Okay. We'll defeat the rebels, then have children.”

Maxon looked at her like she was being facile, ”America, there will always be someone who wants us to die.”

America looked down at her lap, "Then we’ll make the bunker nicer. Warmer, less... apocalyptic.”

“I can't imagine what would improve this place.” he frowned.

"Neither can I." America laid down and placed her head in his lap. "A chocolate fountain, maybe.”

Maxon snorted. "A movie screen.”

"On-demand puppy service.”

"Bowling lanes.”

"A surprise celebrity, different every time.”

He laughed and kissed her forehead, “It’s you, America. You're what makes this place... this life bearable.” he marveled at his realization.

"Good." was all she could think to say to his moving declaration. So simple. So heartfelt. So perfectly Maxon.

From the steps above, the door to the bunker hissed and opened. Aspen stood at the top. “All clear." he announced.

America slid out of Maxon's lap and stood as Maxon, too, got to his feet.

''There were rebels?" Maxon asked, still hoping that maybe, just maybe, it had all been a false alarm.

"Yes, sir. A dozen, at last count.”

"Guard fatalities?”

"None." Aspen seemed to swell with pride. “The new training regimen is working.”

"Good work, Commander." Maxon nodded. "Did we capture any rebels?”

''None." he deflated to his original size. ‘'They retreated quickly. It's like…”

''What?" America spoke up.

''I don't have proof." Aspen shook his head, unwilling to speculate.

“Your instincts are beyond reproach,” Maxon reminded him, “Speak.’'

''It was almost like they were testing us. Just learning what we'd do when provoked.”

Maxon nodded gravely, "So they'll be back, then.”

"And they'll have studied." Aspen agreed.

"Security meeting. Now.” Maxon commanded.

Aspen saluted, then turned to America. "Your mother is on the phone, beside herself.”

“What? What did I do this time?”

"New protocol. The unit at your mother's house secured your family when the rebel alarm was triggered here at the Palace. Mer, she's worried, not mad.”

America scrunched her nose. “…Oh.”

"I'll miss dinner, dealing with this,” Maxon kissed her lips, ”But wait for me on the balcony tonight?”

America nodded, kissed his lips in reply, and said, “Always."

When America returned to her office, Silvia was right there, waiting to get back to work as if nothing at all had happened. In the face of unspeakable danger, Silvia could always be counted on to completely ignore any threat beyond giving it an annoyed squint of her eyes. Once America had reassured her mother that she was alive, Silvia and America carried on, returning bravely to the work of memorizing photographs of the German diplomatic delegation.