#lizzie would in fact murder me before the first fight even began

[helloalycia]

overstepping [one] // jane banner (Wind River)

summary: after getting several voicemails from your colleague and best friend with her asking for your backup, you attempt to call her back, only to get no answer.

warning/s: mentions of rape, murder and injuries.

author’s note: this is a two parter because i finally watched Wind River and it broke my heart but also lizzie was v cute and i felt the need to write this, hope you like it x

part two | masterlist | wattpad

"C'mon, work you stupid phone," I complained for the millionth time, before standing on the chair to get a better signal.

When I saw the bars in the corner of the screen increase, a grin appeared on my lips. I loved my parents, but the fact that they lived in a remote cabin in Tennessee with zero signal was not my favourite thing.

When the bars remained, my phone decided to actually be helpful and receive all the messages, calls and voicemails I missed. I did a brief flick through, noticing nothing was too important that couldn't wait for me to return to work. As an FBI agent, I rarely got time off. And now that I had taken a two month vacation to spend with my parents, I was adamant on enjoying it, even if I was missing work a smidge.

Next were the calls, which I noticed were mostly from my colleague and close friend, Jane Banner. I furrowed my brows, realising she'd left me several voicemails, too, which was strange since she knew I was on a break from work. What could be so important?

I sighed, glancing down at my uncomfortable position standing on the chair and leaning above the wardrobe. It was the only place in the house with decent signal and the only other place that wasn’t in the middle of nowhere was twenty minutes out. Telling myself I'd just listen to one voicemail to make sure everything was okay, I played the earliest message.

"Hey, Y/N. I'm sorry, I know you're on a break, but I just had to talk to you," it began, and Jane sounded troubled. "I was in Vegas, as you know, but I've been called out to a reservation in Wyoming where this poor girl was–" She paused, releasing a shaky breath. "She was raped and left to die out in the cold. I thought I could send in another team to take a look – y'know, usual protocol. But the coroner won't rule it a homicide and you know what that means."

I swallowed hard, knowing exactly what that meant. If it wasn't ruled a homicide, no backup would come and we had to move onto the next case. But if this girl was raped and left to die, the rapist was still out there and wasn't getting caught by the FBI.

"I can't just leave it and go," Jane continued quietly, with that recognisable passion for her job evident in her voice. "I have to do what I can. But I... I can't do this alone. It's not like other cases, Y/N. It's different out here. And there's only so much their police department can do. I know you're on a break, but I was hoping that, maybe, you could come out here and help me? It's the Wind River Indian Reservation. That's it, I guess. Bye."

The message ended and I found myself chewing on my lower lip anxiously, unable to think about anything other than Jane now. She'd worried me with that one voicemail alone – I couldn't imagine what the others said.

She was usually so good at dealing with cases, but this seemed different. She sounded shaken up, attempting to put on a brave face by the sounds of it. What was so different about this case? She didn't need me. She was capable.

Curiosity got the better of me and I played the second message, ignoring the discomfort in my arms as I stretched to maintain the signal. It was left a day after the first one.

"Hey, so I just remembered that you said you don't get much signal up there with your parents," she began apologetically. "I don't mean to– shit, it's so cold..." There was a pause, a noise in the background, then she continued, "Sorry, just turning up the heating. Anyway, I was saying. I don't mean to intrude on your break. I just– I'm hoping you'll find signal and hear this because I could really use your help. I think we've got a lead on who may have done it. It was hectic today. Really could've used that backup."

She chuckled dryly at her attempt at a joke, but all I felt was guilt. She sounded exhausted within a day of being there.

"I hope you get this," she finished with a sigh. "I should go. Got a busy day tomorrow. Hope you're doing okay. Bye."

I wasted no time in playing the next message. Three days into her case.

"I don't know why I keep sending these," she began with a hoarse voice, and my heart clenched at the sound of it. "You clearly aren't getting them in time. But it's easier talking to you like this than not at all."

It went quiet, so quiet that I thought she may have finished and forgot to hang up. But then she spoke up again, a whimper escaping her lips.

"It's so hard," she admitted. "We've covered worse cases, but this one... everything about it makes me uncomfortable. Something doesn't feel right. I've got a lead – we think it might be the boyfriend who did it and we're gonna see him tomorrow. But I don't know."

I frowned, squeezing my phone tightly because I didn't recognise the girl speaking as my friend. This girl sounded broken and I wondered what she could have discovered that made her like this.

"I've got the police department with me for backup," she said with a sniffle. "And Cory, he's a hunter whose been helping me with the case. They're all gonna be with me tomorrow. But I wish you were here, too. You always make things easier."

The lump in my throat wouldn't disappear no matter how many times I swallowed it. She made things easier, too. Always. And all I wanted to was be by her side and be there for her like she always was for me.

"Sorry about this," she said with a watery laugh, and I could imagine the embarrassed smile on her face as she did. "I sound like such an idiot. Never mind these messages. Just enjoy your break. I shouldn't be worrying you like this. See you when you get back."

The message ended and I checked to see if there were anymore, but to my disappointment, there wasn't. That message was from a few days ago and she hadn't sent anything since which was concerning in itself.

Trying not to panic for no reason, I called Jane. Hopefully everything was okay and I was being stupid. She was a fully-trained FBI agent. She could take care of herself. Right?

The call rang and rang, but nobody picked up. One missed call. No biggie. She probably heard it and couldn't find her phone or something. So, I tried again.

More ringing and no answer. Okay, no big deal. Just try again.

Another call and no answer. The chewing on my lip became more intense. Why the hell wasn't she picking up? Was she still working the case?

I waited an hour, trying again at ten minute intervals, unable to fight my concern. But there was no answer every time and I realised that I couldn't sit and wait for her to call back. Not after how she sounded in those voicemails.

No, I had to go there. She needed backup.

—

Wyoming was way colder than I could have prepared for.

I mean, technically, I prepared for nothing. I bid my parents a goodbye, threw some random clothes in a bag and caught the next plane over there. I tried for Jane's phone constantly, knowing she was never one to ignore me for this long, but there was no point. She wasn't answering, which could only mean so much.

When I reached the reservation, I had no idea where anything was or what I was looking for exactly. I just knew that as soon as the taxi dropped me off in the centre of town, I didn't know where to go.

There were a lot of locals hanging around, so my first port of call was to ask them if they'd seen Jane around – or Agent Banner, as she may have introduced herself. I showed them a picture of her on my phone, described her with vivid detail, but they just stared at me like I was crazy. I was starting to believe I was at one point, until I stopped by the convenience store.

As worried as I was for Jane's whereabouts, the chill in my bones was real. Especially my hands, which I was certain would fall off any minute. So, I decided to buy some gloves and also ask the cashier if he'd seen Jane around or heard anything of her. Whilst I was doing that, a customer caught my attention, probably having overheard my conversation.

"Did you say Jane Banner?" he asked with a quirked brow, interrupting my purchase. "The FBI lady, right?"

I nodded quickly, facing him. "Yes, that's her! D'you know where she is?"

He nodded casually. "Yeah, she's in the hospital. That big shootout that happened a few days ago, right?"

My stomach dropped. "The what?"

"The shootout," he repeated, not aware of the concern in my face. "At the drill site. A bunch of officers were killed and the FBI lady was one of the only one left standing." He tutted as he shook his head. "Very lucky that one."

A shootout? The hospital? Only one left standing? No wonder she hadn't been answering her calls.

"Can you– do you–" I stopped, clearing my throat and trying to stop freaking out. "Which hospital?"

After getting the address from him, I caught a taxi to the only hospital in town and prayed to God that Jane was okay. The one thing she'd asked for was backup and I couldn't even give her that. If I'd just looked at my messages sooner... fuck.

Getting past the front desk and to Jane's room was no issue at all. A quick flash of my FBI badge was enough for the receptionist to give me the details and wave me through. My heart was constricting in my chest the longer it took. What if it was really bad? What if that customer's intel was outdated and Jane was– no. I couldn't afford to think like that.

Upon finding Jane's room, I spotted an older man leaving through the door, being careful to close it behind him. I didn't recognise him at all.

"Excuse me," I called, earning his attention. "Is that Jane Banner's room you just came from?"

He seemed surprised, glancing over his shoulder to make sure I was speaking to him, before nodding. "Yes. Sorry, who are you?"

I pulled my badge from my pocket and showed him, though I doubted anyone would take me seriously when my eyes were watering at thought of Jane being severely injured.

"I'm her friend," I said, swallowing down the lump in my throat before lowering my badge.

"Oh, you're the backup that didn't come," he said with realisation.

My eyes flickered to the floor guiltily. He wasn't exactly wrong.

"I didn't mean it like that," he added quickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

I shook my head, lifting my eyes to meet his. "It's okay. I should've... I should've been here." It went quiet as he didn't know what to say, so I looked to him halfheartedly. "I assume you're from the police department, one of the ones who helped Jane."

"Not exactly," he said, before putting out his hand for me to shake. "Name's Cory. I'm a hunter by trade."

Returning his handshake, I recalled Jane's voicemail. "Oh, yeah, she mentioned you... thank you for helping her out."

When I couldn’t, I added in my head.

He offered me a small smile and I couldn't find it in myself to return it. I must have looked like shit, since he gave me a pitiful gaze.

"You want me to catch you up before you go in?" he asked, nodding to Jane's door. "She's okay by the way."

I nodded, sucking up a breath. My nerves were eating away at me the longer I didn't see Jane – half of me was terrified of what I'd find, and the other half was afraid she'd be upset or angry because I left her to it, even when she pleaded for my help.

Cory and I took a seat down the hall and he proceeded to explain about the case and how they found the guy who raped that poor girl. The shootout was the worst bit, making me shiver with discomfort. Apparently, Jane had gotten blasted with a shotgun, puncturing her torso and neck despite the vest she wore. All of the officers with her were killed and by the sounds of it, Jane almost was, too. But Cory managed to take out the criminals and the rapist himself. When he was finished telling me, I had no words.

"She's a bit shaken up, but her surgery went well," Cory reassured with a short nod. "Does she know you're coming?"

I shook my head, voice thick with emotion. "She wouldn't answer her phone. I guess I know why now."

Cory nodded, rubbing the back of his neck before sparing me a consoling glance. "She talked about you a lot. I think it'll cheer her up seeing you. You should go."

My eyes met his, teary and stinging with unshed tears. "Thank you so much."

He shrugged bashfully, but he didn't realise all that he'd done. I gave him a small, tight smile before standing up with a sigh. No point dwelling anymore – I had to see her.

Pushing my selfish feelings aside, I sucked it up and approached Jane's room. She would either want to punch me or not, but either way, I had to see if she was okay. And so, when I opened the door slightly, heart racing in my chest, said heart jumped in my throat at the sight of her.

She was laying on the bed with wires stuck in her and, only from what I could see, bandages were covering the side of her neck. I thought she was sleeping at first, but then her head tilted towards the door curiously, and bright blue eyes widened with disbelief.

"Y/N?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "What are you– how did you get here?"

I closed the door behind me and hesitantly approached her bedside, unable to stop my eyes from soaking in the sight of her. She looked so feeble and vulnerable and unlike how I saw her last. Then, Cory's words came back to me and I began to imagine the worst scenario of her getting shot, blood seeping from her wounds, the life draining from her eyes...

"Y/N," she called, and I looked to her startlingly, hoping I didn't look as troubled as I felt.

"Sorry," I said, clearing my throat. "I, er– the messages. Voicemail. I heard them and tried calling you back, but..."

She pursed her lips, exhaling with a wince and looking up at the ceiling, as if suddenly remembering she left messages in the first place.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," I said quietly, guilt seeping back in.

"No, no, don't be," she said, and I just about noticed the pink dusting her cheeks. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have interrupted your vacation like that. I know you said you wanted a break and–"

"Jane, no, don't even say that," I cut her off, reaching for her hand in an instant. She looked my way, eyes flickering between mine nervously. I squeezed her hand gently and said, "I should have been here. You needed me and I– I didn't come. Maybe if I had, this could have ended differently."

She tried to smile, but I could see the discomfort in her eyes. "It's not that bad, honestly. It just looks bad."

I pressed my lips together, eyes falling to the bandage on her neck. Even though it was big and covered her wound, I could still make out the bruising around it from the impact of the shell. I didn't imagine the torso wound looking any different, and that thought alone made me regret leaving her alone. It was very much as bad as it looked; I knew that and she knew that.

Her lips trembled as she avoided my eyes, her own tearing up. I pushed away my guilt momentarily and changed the subject.

"So, I met Cory. He seems like a great guy."

She didn't say anything as she seemed lost in thought. Either that or she was trying not to cry in front of me. I hoped it wasn't the latter, since the last thing I wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable.

"You know," I said, when she wouldn't speak, "I'm pretty sure I told you to stay safe before I left for my vacation."

At my poor attempt to lighten the mood, she cracked a small, tight smile, but a smile nonetheless, and my racing heart slowed down momentarily.

"I'm glad you're okay," I said, now that I had her attention again, and she looked my way with a softened expression. "Kind of okay. But you know... okay."

Thankfully, she knew what I meant and her hand tightened around mine.

"I'm glad you came," she returned, and I couldn't look away even if I tried. She was always able to trap me with a single gaze.

With a tug of her hand, she motioned for me to sit on the edge of her bed, so I did. And then she began to ask me about my vacation, what I'd been up to this past month, how my parents were... basically anything and everything except for the case. And it was understandable, since she was reminded of it all the time. If I could be a form of escapism for her, so be it. It was the least I could do.

We spoke for hours until the nurse came in to let me know visiting hours were over and I'd have to come back tomorrow. With a regretful sigh, I got up from my seat on her bedside and stretched my limbs.

"Where are you staying?" she asked, a slight frown on her lips.

I smiled awkwardly, realising I didn't think that far ahead. "I'm not gonna lie, I don't know. I came straight here. There's gotta be a hotel or something in this town, right?"

She nodded and flicked her hand to the shelves on the other side of the room. "You should stay in my room in the inn. Key's in my bag over there."

"Oh, I don't have to do that–"

"Y/N, it's not like I'm going to be staying there anytime soon," she cut me off, smiling halfheartedly. "Please."

I chewed on my lip and nodded, giving in. When I grabbed her keys from her bag, I stopped by her bedside and gave her a supportive smile.

"I'll back first thing in the morning, if you don't mind," I said, and she finally gave me a smile that reached her eyes.

"I'd like that."

I nodded, resting a hand on hers and squeezing comfortingly. "Goodnight."

—

Though I knew Jane was okay, I still couldn't stop myself from thinking about her all night. The sight of her wounds and the broken expression on her face was enough to keep me awake. And the guilt that came with it all... why couldn't I have just picked up my damn phone?

As promised, I returned to Jane's hospital room the next morning, this time bringing some breakfast snacks from the hospital cafeteria since I knew the food would be much better than whatever they were serving her. Judging by the content expression on her face when I gave it to her, I was right.

When she finished eating, she was able to sit up slightly and move over on her bed, urging for me to join her and watch some TV with her. There was no way I was going to turn down that offer, so I slid next to her and kept a packet of sliced apples between us as we watched whatever was playing on the TV.

About halfway through watching, she spoke up randomly, taking me by surprise.

"When are you leaving?"

I tore my gaze from the screen and realised she was staring at me with intense green eyes.

"When you're well enough to," I answered truthfully.

She looked down to her hands. "You don't have to stay with me. You can go."

I studied her profile, knowing it was the wrong time to appreciate how stunning she looked even when she was makeup-free, sporting a bed head and tired.

"Do you want me to go?" I asked softly, afraid I may have overstepped.

She was quick to shake her head slightly, finally lifting her gaze to meet mine with glossy ones. "No."

I nodded, trying very hard not to smile, cleared my throat and grabbed her hand. "Then I'm not leaving. I'll be right here until you get better and I can take you home."

A ragged breath escaped her lips as she nodded in response. We both looked back to the TV and I noticed she didn't let go of my hand, her fingers warm to the touch and giving me goosebumps at the contact. But I wouldn't have had it any other way.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

i am once again using Tumblr to market my own book because i don’t know actual real marketing strategies

hello again, it’s me, Lizzie, the girl who wrote a horror book set on a cruise ship (not published yet, but very soon)! the last post i made about this got a surprising amount of recognition, so i am once again marketing that way! it’ll be this time, i offer y’all an actual part of the book! this is when the plot REALLY kicks off, so i felt like it was the best piece to share to try and get your attention. enjoy!

———

At first, Violet thought she was screaming, and then she realized that it was the woman standing to her far left. Captain Marion stared blankly down at all of them, the tip of the bolt protruding out of his right eyeball, blood drizzling down his face in streams like tears, half-mumbling and half-slurring on his words as his brain shut down. Then, he fell lifelessly and revealed the archer wearing a rabbit mask standing in the doorway behind him.

Pandemonium broke out in an instant. People screeched like banshees in fear, while others dashed for the doors, stampeding over each other as they attempted to flee, and a select few just stood rigid in shock at the murder they had witnessed.

Violet was a part of the last group.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t run. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t escape. It was like her entire body was riddled with sleep paralysis all over again, restricting her from doing anything except stand there and stare helplessly, but unlike sleep paralysis, she was completely awake; this was real, not a twisted figment of her imagination. And because of this, she got to watch as nine more figures emerged from the doorway and stood on the ledge. Among them was the person wearing the mask made of tongues.

The com overhead suddenly crackled and came to life. Something began to play out of it.

Seven short rings. One long ring.

It was the general emergency signal.

“This is your captain speaking,” spoke a voice from the speaker, swimming up through the sirens that slowly came to a halt. It was slick and smoky, like something Lucifer would sound like. There was a laugh. “Oh wait! He’s dead.”

Everyone, even the most panicked-looking people, stopped moving to listen. They were all frozen as the voice laughed once more.

“I’m sure you’re all very, very scared and confused, and I, Cronus, the new King of the Sea, am here to provide an explanation,” the voice said. “You are all going to die. Blunt, I know, but I’m afraid there’s no other way to put it, and why bother sugarcoating your demise? At least you’ll be prepared for the inevitable.

Now, before you spend your last moments alive putting up detective walls trying to figure out why this is happening, just know that it’s nothing personal. None of us have anything against any of you. We have nothing against cruise ships, either, this one is actually very nice, so pat yourselves on the back for this vacation destination because it is killer! Pun intended. It’s just that some people are evil for the sake of being evil. We don’t need a reason to kill you all other than the fact that we want to.

Think of it like this: you don’t need a reason to go drinking, you just like doing it. It’s the same way we like gutting your bodies like pigs in a slaughterhouse. It could be considered a hobby in a way!”

Violet felt like she couldn’t breathe as she listened to this Cronus maniac speak. Her chest tightened until she thought she was going to asphyxiate, and it scared her further when she realized that suffocating because she was hyperventilating in terror was a much better fate than whatever these people had in store for all of them.

“You may fight back all you’d like. In fact, I highly advise you to do so because it would be very entertaining,” Cronus went on. “You may cry, you may hide, you may kill yourselves, you may pray. Do whatever you need to do in your final hours.” He laughed as he spoke his next words, “But I can’t promise you that the last option will be very effective in times like these.”

Cronus’s laughter seemed to ricochet all throughout Violet’s head, echoing over and over and over even after he stopped laughing.

Her eyes slowly slid up to the ledge where the ten figures were standing. Each of them was wearing a mask and wielding a different weapon. A rabbit mask and a crossbow; a deer skull and a pair of hatchets; a clown mask and a shotgun; a burlap cow mask and a pitchfork; a lamb mask and a sickle; a BDSM dog mask and a baseball bat full of nails; a pig mask and a machete; a comedy mask and some kind of large gun; a gas mask and an ice pick; and the tongue mask and the hedge clippers. And they all looked ready to kill them.

“You can hate me if you’d like. If it makes you feel better, go right ahead. If I were in your place, I’d hate me, too. But I hold the keys to this kingdom, and you are all mere cattle that must be slaughtered to feed the masses. An example must be made.

My soul is not tainted. My mind is not mental. I don’t want peace or tranquility or reasoning. My inner self does not require equanimity. I am but a man with a metal pole and a thirst for blood. And you are all just the unfortunate sacrifices to quench my thirst. Wrong place, wrong time, I suppose.

No one really knows anyone. Look around the room you’re in, wherever you may be in this vessel, and take in the people you see. The stranger to your left, your partner you’ve been married to for twenty-five years, your best friend, your child. How well do you really know them? You only know them as well as they let you know them. Allow that thought to let you become detached and disconnected from them and everyone else. Tonight, only your life matters if you want to survive longer than the others. Of course, in the end, it won’t matter because we’re going to get you, but feel free to throw your husband in the line of fire or push your kid down to be chopped up into pieces as you take the time to flee. In this Kingdom, it is kill or be killed. Don’t waste your time making petty connections with other fleshy vessels that are just made to die. Soon, you will see what monsters you all truly are once it comes down to survival.”

Violet couldn’t help but obey his words, sliding her gaze around the ballroom, and she realized that several people were doing the same thing. She met the eyes of many different people, and they all held the same expression: terror.

For a moment, she wondered how fast they could run, if she could outrun them, if they were worth sacrificing to get away from this madness.

“Against this all, I do understand how scared you all must be. Fear truly is a fickle thing. But I don’t think it’s the fear of being brutally killed that’s what’s shaking you all. I think it’s the fear that you’re going to die and there’s going to be no evidence that you ever lived at all. Once the people who knew you fade away, you will be nothing to nobody. None of this will affect anything, so does it even really matter that you’re about to be killed? Sure, some people will be sad once they hear about it, but then they’ll die, too, or they’ll forget about your existence, and you will truly be nothing but the distant memory in the back of someone’s mind. You do not matter.”

Tears ran down Violet’s cheeks. She barely managed to glance around again and saw that several other people were crying, too.

“It’s almost time. Don’t bother calling for help; we’ve cut off all communications. The lifeboats have been cut down, too. None of you will be getting away. Nobody is coming to get you.”

Through her haze of tears, Violet noticed the person in the comedy mask was fiddling with their gun. Reloading for something, maybe?

“Don’t hold your breath. Just breathe in deep. Come hell or high water, I will make sure people know I was here,” Cronus chuckled deeply. “But I can’t say the same thing for all of you.”

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Promises Not Kept Part 6

Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.

Part 6: Tommy defends Leah. Polly (drunkenly) defends women all around the world 

(gif isn’t mine)

           Beth handed Leah a porcelain teacup with gold accents around the rim. Steam rose from the chamomile tea, the scent relaxing just enough for Leah to take a deep breath.

           “Thank you.” She whispered and wrapped her hands around the warm cup.

           Beth sat down across from her. “Can you tell me what’s going on or…” She had been born and raised in Birmingham. As a young girl, she had been warned about the Shelby boys. Especially when they came back from the war and began to gain power.

           “If I knew I would tell you.” She pursed her lips together and held the tea close to her chest. Leah wasn’t sure she wanted to tell Beth about what she used to do in London. But past history aside, she didn’t know what she could tell her about Tommy. What could she say if she didn’t even know what was going on? Was she involved with him or was it just a fling? Despite the anxiety of Rosetta’s men at her apartment, Lizzie’s words still echoed in her brain. A man like Tommy wasn’t someone who enjoyed settling down into a subdued lifestyle. He made the choice to continue this dangerous streak of his. There was something about it that he enjoyed or the reward was worth the consequences. Or perhaps he was simply too far gone to get his head out from under the water.

           Leah had no inkling and she had a feeling she might never understand. So did she just leave it? Pretend she didn’t have feelings for the man who practically rescued her from her own despair? He put an end to her self-destructive tendencies and told her she was deserving of much more. Could she really shake the memories of how softly he touched her?

           “I can’t tell you what to do,” Beth said steadily. “But I can warn you that if you do interact with him…you’ll most likely pay a price. I mean Grace…”

           “I know about Grace.” She interrupted her. Leah didn’t want to hear about Grace. She didn’t want to hear people blame Tommy for her death. Maybe it could be argued that she died because of him, but Leah knew that he never intended that to happen. “He’s not callous.”

           “He’s a murderer.” Beth retorted. She leaned forward and touched Leah’s knee. “It’s a cycle, Lee, and I think he knows he’ll end up dead one of these days because of it. But until then, I don’t want you to be a victim of the Peaky Blinders.” She thought about all the young men in Birmingham who either crossed the gangsters’ paths and paid the price, or the ones who decided it was better to join them and got caught in the cross-fires.

           Leah set her tea cup down and nodded slowly. “I understand your concern. You’re not the first one to warn me.” She informed her friend. “And I doubt you’ll be the last. But Beth, I don’t know what to tell you. My life, for the last few years, has been nothing but hell. After I lost Jonah I thought I’d never recover. But since I’ve met him…” Her eyes lowered. The things she accomplished in Birmingham listed off in her mind. She knew that night; she would be warm in a comfortable bed in her very own flat. She wouldn’t have to entertain a stranger, sell her body to make ends meet. There would be no marks on her skin the next morning from clients who abused their power over her. She wouldn’t have to pick up the pieces of her dignity every time she walked home from the hotel, the dawn rising behind her. Her self-esteem was building when before, it had only be crushed every single time she forced herself to act the part of an expensive whore. She remembered how Tommy held her close at that crucial turning point in London. When he promised to take her away from that cycle of misery, promised her everything and more. Promised to take care of her like he had told Jonah he would.

           “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Beth’s voice was gentle with sympathy. She could only warn the woman of the potential, or in her eyes, inevitable dangers. Whatever Tommy had done had obviously affected her to the point she wouldn’t change her mind.

           Leah swallowed her tears and nodded. “Thank you.”

~~~~~~~~`

           “You lads looking for someone?” Tommy introduced his presence on the street. A few smart passersby turned around to avoid the scene altogether. It was never a good sign when all three Shelby men were striding down the street like soldiers entering a battle. With John and Arthur flanking him, Tommy looked positively menacing.

           The three men turned to address him. “Waiting for a mate, ain’t none of your fucking business.” Andrew spat a bit of tobacco onto the sidewalk.

           John smiled smugly and cracked his knuckles. He liked when people underestimated his brother. It was entertaining and usually meant they would be dealing out some punishments. No one spoke to Thomas Shelby like that in the streets of Birmingham.

           Andrew’s cohorts looked uneasy. “That’s Tommy Shelby, let’s just go.” The youngest one decided it was too much to risk over a girl who defected from Rosetta’s harem of Midland girls.

           But Andrew didn’t see the danger in front of him. “I ain’t afraid of some gypsies.” He scoffed.

           Tommy slipped off his cap. He gripped it tightly in his hand and waited for a beat. Rosetta’s enforcer was a good bit taller than Tommy but that didn’t deter him. The bigger they were, the harder they fell.

           And he did fall. A mangled scream left his mouth only moments after taunting the Blinder. His hands clutched over his last good eye, which had been slashed. Those who were willing to challenge the Shelbys in their own domain would receive their signature attack.

           Blood seeped through Andrew’s fingers and dripped down his arm. He fell to his knees first before Tommy delivered a jaw-breaking punch and sent him to the ground.

           Tommy’s ears rang with the familiar static noise that filled his brain when he flipped a switch. That switch that allowed him to crush a man’s very soul while looking him dead in the eyes. It was such an intense state of adrenaline that he couldn’t register the world around him. The numbness he felt on the daily was enhanced, allowing him to detach from the ruthless force he was inflicting. Every sensation was dulled. He didn’t notice his brothers subduing the other two men. He didn’t feel his teeth accidentally bite down on his own lip during the struggle. He couldn’t feel Andrew’s warm blood coating his hands as he grabbed the man’s collar.

           The man was still shrieking in pain and fear while the last bit of vision he had left was slipping away.

           Tommy pressed down on his throat to shut him up and keep him still. He leaned close, not disturbed by the blood. “You go back to Rosetta,” He breathed heavily from the anger that was fueling his strength. His voice was just barely above a deep, hissing whisper. “You tell her that if she even tries to harm Leah, she’ll have the Peaky Blinders to deal with.” He released his hold and stood up. Arthur had one of the men in a headlock while John had the other man on the ground, a foot pressing against his chest.

           “Get him out of here.” He instructed Andrew’s colleagues. “If you come back here you’ll end up in the morgue.” He threatened and nodded for his brothers to release the men. He turned and dug in his pockets for a cigarette. The blood coating his hands stained his coat but he didn’t notice. He hardly even noticed his lip was opened up during the fight as it stained the cigarette red when he took the first drag. It would take a bit before the ringing in his ears died down.

~~~~~~~~~~

           Beth was standing by the windows, anxiously watching the street. She wasn’t keen on having the Peaky Blinders around her home and shop but she didn’t want to kick out Leah either.

           Not too long after Leah’s call, Beth spotted Tommy walking towards the storefront. His brothers had gone back to the betting shop so he was alone.

           “Leah…” She turned to the woman who hadn’t moved from the couch the entire time.

           Without a word, Leah stood and went downstairs. Beth didn’t follow but stayed by the window to keep an eye on them.

           Tommy tossed his cigarette to the ground when Leah came out. Concern etched her brow. “You’re hurt.” She whispered.

           He only shook his head. “No, isn’t my blood.” He assumed she was talking about his shirt, which had been spotted red.

           Leah, in fact, was trying to ignore that fact. She didn’t want to know what Tommy had done but she hoped he had gotten the men to leave her alone. “No, your lip.” She approached him and pulled out a handkerchief from her skirt pocket. “You’re bleeding.”

           He touched his chin where a trail of blood had trickled from his lip. “Oh…”

           “It’s not too bad.” She carefully dabbed at the blood and cut.

           His blue eyes were fixed on hers, the aftermath of the fight was starting to die down. The numbness subsided and he could finally feel her gentle touch. Maybe that was the only thing he would ever feel again. When she moved her hand back, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. He didn’t want her to let go.

           So she didn’t. She used her free hand to touch his cheek and pocketed the stained handkerchief. The pads of her fingertips subtly rubbed over his cheekbone. He leaned into her touch, grateful for its sobering effect.

           “The woman in your house this morning…”

           Tommy sighed because he knew exactly what was coming. His assistant had gotten to her first, which was probably why she had left before seeing him that morning. “Lizzie.” He nodded. “What did she say to you?”          

           “She warned me about you.” She answered honestly. “She said you’d get tired of me eventually. Told me not to waste my time because I would only end up hurt.”

           His eyes studied her face. She didn’t seem uneasy if anything she was longing for honesty. “Are you worried?”

           She nodded slowly and moved her fingers to graze down his jawline. “For you? Yeah.” Her voice was quiet through her admission. “Maybe I’m naïve for thinking you felt the same way as I did.”

           He shook his head and let his fingers loosen around her wrist, letting her go. She didn’t move her hand even when he released her. “You’re not.”

           “How do you know for sure?”

           “Because through everything I’ve been through, I feel much better with you.” He explained genuinely.

           Leah bit her lip. “I want to know what kind of man you really are. I don’t want to keep hearing about what other people think of you. You tell me who you really are and I’ll do the same. I just need to know that I can trust you.” Because she had lost the last man she truly trusted. And she wasn’t foolish enough to blindly trust the next person who came along.

           “I can prove that to you,” Tommy said with confidence. He knew there wouldn’t be anything he could do to harm her. Not when she knew exactly what he felt like. She knew what it felt to be numb. Neither of them wanted that anymore.

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

           When Tommy entered the dress shop, Beth was with a client. The woman was the wife of one of his men. He tipped his hat to her before slipping it off.

           “Afternoon, Mr. Shelby.” She greeted politely.

           Beth wasn’t as welcoming. She was still highly suspicious of the Shelby. In her opinion, he had no right to her delicate friend. She didn’t know just how much Leah had fared. “She’s in the back.” Despite her doubts, she couldn’t tell him to piss off.

           Tommy nodded and walked to the back storage room. It was a narrow hall stacked almost to the ceiling with fabric bolts and broken sewing machines. The man was so stealthy in his movements that he startled Leah.

           “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that!” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Gave me a fright.”

           He smiled and he held his hands up in apology. “Thought you heard me.”

           She liked seeing him smile. Especially because he smiled when she turned around and his eyes settled on her face. At that moment he wasn’t the terrifying gangster that everyone else saw. He was just a man who was happy to see someone he was developing feelings for. These feelings were blossoming very slowly and tentatively. He was afraid of them for more than one reason, too many to count in fact, but he didn’t often shy away from things that scared him.

           “While you’re here, can you hold this steady for me?” She dragged a rickety chair towards him.

           “Sure.” He set his cap and newspaper aside to hold the back of the chair. Leah picked up her long skirt and stepped up onto the chair to reach a bolt of red satin. The aging wood creaked and he was concerned over a very loose looking leg. But it held up just fine and she stepped down without incident.

           Her hair swept past him and he caught a whiff of her perfume. It was so alluring he lost his train of thought and the reason he was there.

           “Up to no good today?” Her teasing reminded him he did have a purpose for being there. He wasn’t just there to see her, although that wasn’t a bad excuse either.

           “I wouldn’t bring trouble to you.” He replied with deep fondness etched into his usually intense tone. “I’ve come to tell you I’ll be off to Warwickshire tomorrow. Be gone for the next few days.”

           Leah tucked the bolt of fabric underneath her arm. “Little holiday?”

           “You could say that.” He shrugged and leaned his shoulder against a nearby shelf. “Going hunting with me brothers.” He didn’t tell her about the letter he received from America about his father. His brothers didn’t even know yet so he didn’t think it was right to tell her before he told them.

           “That should be fun.” It was nice to know he’d be away from business for a few days. Especially doing something that he enjoyed.

           “You could come along.” He offered. “Get out of Birmingham for a bit. You’d get to meet Charlie.”

           She sighed softly. “That does sound lovely, but I have to work.”

           “Soon though.” He stepped closer to her. The space getting smaller in the cramped room. “You’ll be safe with me gone?” He asked and brushed a few stray wisps of hair from her face.

           “I’ll be alright.” While Tommy was thinking of every possible thing that could go wrong, Leah was only thinking about how she would miss him.

           “I’ll leave the number to Arrow House.” He let his hand cup her cheek. His eyes were soft on her. “Call if you need anything.”

           “What if I just want to hear your voice?” A playful smile formed on her lips.

           “Then you know who to ask for.” He replied with a chuckle.

           “I’ll miss you.” The words surprised her even as they left her own mouth. But she let them remain between them without correcting herself.

           “Only be a couple of days, maybe less. Be back before you know it, eh?” He tilted his head down slightly to be at her eye line.

           Leah hadn’t realized how much she missed the way he looked at her. The way the ice in his iris melted significantly. “When you come back, can we spend time together?”

           “You want to?” Tommy had a lot on his mind. Things with the Russians were getting more intense. He intended on creating a plan that afternoon and setting it into motion as soon as he was able to.

           Her nod was a little timid. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.” She admitted. “Beth thinks I’ve got my head in the clouds.”

           “That such a bad thing?” The corner of his lips quirked up. At least he wasn’t the only one who was getting distracted by the relationship.

           “S’pose not. Unless I’m being led along like a fool.”

           Tommy shook his head and tilted his head to kiss her. He figured the gesture was better. He could talk his way out of any situation but he had trouble with deciding exactly what to say to Leah. It was much easier to show her physically than to have to trip over words like a schoolboy.

           Leah kissed him back, focused on how gentle he was. One hand lightly touched her waist, his other hand combed through her hair, his long fingers slipping through her curls.

           He was about to take the fabric from her hand and deepen the kiss but they were interrupted.

           “Leah, did you find that red satin?” Beth called from the front of the store. “Want me to help you find it?”

           Leah pulled back from Tommy. “Yeah, I found it!” She replied and gave him an apologetic look. “Have fun on your holiday, yeah? Try to relax.”

           There was no promising that he could ever relax. That was something he was notably terrible at. “Give me a ring when you can.” He slipped on his cap again and reached into the inside of his coat to pull out his cigarette case.

           “Okay.” She pecked his cheek and slipped by him.

           Tommy’s hand slipped past the telegram about his father’s death. He sighed and went out the back exit of the shop.

~~~~~~~~~~~

           Later that same day, there hadn’t been much activity in the store. Beth and Leah chatted idly but the conversation of Tommy never came up. In fact they both avoided it as well as they could.

           The door finally opened and Georgia, a woman who worked as a typist a few shops down, entered. “What're you still doing here? Didn’t you two hear?”

           “Hear 'bout what?” Beth looked up from her ledger at the counter.

           “Jessie Eden’s having a rally. All the women at the wire cutting factory’ve walked out.”

           “Really?” Leah raised an eyebrow. She was well aware of the women’s rights activists who often held rallies for better working conditions. They were active in London and sometimes Leah would linger in the back of the affairs just to listen in. But there was no chance she could ever participate. The Midland girls, or the ones at the brothel, could never demand better conditions. Either Rosetta would put them out on the street or have her henchmen bully them into submission. But it was lovely to think about getting respect as a human being.

           “All the women in Birmingham are going down to the Bull Ring,” Georgia said. "Going to make a statement about the equal rights we fucking deserve."

           Beth looked unsure. “S’just us two, we don’t have any men to complain about.” She and Leah chuckled.

           “Then come and show support for your fellow woman,” Georgia replied with a hand on her hip. “Not all of us can be as lucky as you lot.”

           “If all the women are there then they won’t be coming to get dresses.” Leah pointed out.

           Beth smiled. “That’s a good point. Alright, let’s go support our fellow woman.”

~~~~~~~~~

           Indeed, it seemed every woman in Birmingham had shown up to the rally. Already, there was a buzz of activity. At the center of the crowd, an older woman was standing on the back of a truck, shouting to the women.

           “Oh dear.” Beth sighed. “That’s Tommy Shelby’s aunt.” She pointed to the woman.

           “Up there?” Leah stood on her tiptoes to see over the crowd of women. “She seems passionate.”

           Polly was yelling about a revolution, adding in curses every other word. She certainly spoke like a Shelby. But Leah wasn't sure that Shelbys were so actively public. They seemed to work behind the scenes to get what they wanted.

           “She seems drunk as shit.” Beth shook her head and laughed. “Wonder what Jessie’s thinking 'bout what she's going on 'bout.”

           “They seem to agree.” The women were calling out things that needed to change and how they agreed with Polly. "I think they really like her."

           Beth grinned and shook her head. “Well, I’m glad we can get out for fresh air. Just glad we don’t have to deal with men in our own fucking shop. I’d hate to answer to some wanker who doesn’t know anything.”

           Leah laughed and linked arms with her friend. “Maybe you should be up there yelling.”

           “They’re good for fucking but not for thinking!” Beth hollered. They both burst into giggles and joined the women in demanding equal rights.

~~~~~~~~~~

           Beth decided not to open the shop up again after the rally. Leah went home with a smile on her face. She enjoyed the sense of freedom she got from being there. No longer was she a working girl who had no voice. Men didn’t keep her quiet night after night. They didn’t look at her like she was nothing more than an object to be used.

           As she passed through the door, the phone began to ring. Setting her things aside, Leah went to pick up the receiver. “Ward residence.”

           “Were you at the rally this afternoon?” Tommy sounded tired but not angry.

           “Beth and I went to watch.” She answered truthfully. “I can’t imagine anyone didn’t go, the Bull Ring was crowded. I saw your aunt.”

           He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, so I’ve heard.”

           “They all seemed to like her.” Leah couldn’t help but smile. Polly only got more worked up the longer she stood preaching.

           “She can be more pleasant when she’s drunk.”  

           She laughed softly. “Did you have fun hunting?”

           “Shot a stag, so I can’t complain.” He wished she were there with him. Arrow House always felt unbearably empty after Grace passed. It was a little easier the more Charlie grew. He ran circles around his nanny but was a sweet little boy who always wanted to be outside with the horses. He made the house feel a little fuller. But there was an obvious gap where a mother figure would usually inhabit.

           “Well, I’m glad you could get the time off.” She said softly.

           Tommy nodded absent-mindedly although he had thought about nothing but business the moment he arrived in Warwickshire. And now there was a Bentley parked outside in the drive and he had an idea who might be in his office. “Can I take you out tomorrow night?” He asked.

           “Sure. To the Garrison?”

           “I was thinking somewhere for dinner? Somewhere quieter.” He offered. “That way we could talk.”

           “I’d like that a lot.” Leah bit her lip as she smiled. “You can pick me up at my flat?”

           “I’ll see you then.” Tommy couldn’t ignore what he had to do for much longer. There was information he needed and he knew how he could get it. “Have a good night, Leah.”

           “You too, Tommy.”

           He slowly replaced the receiver and took a deep breath. With another breath, he straightened his shirt cuffs and entered his office.

           “I’m sorry I came unannounced.” Tatiana sat at Tommy’s desk, a playful look in her eyes.

           Something, perhaps dread, settled into Tommy’s stomach like a deadweight. He had a feeling he was going to do something he would regret.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​ @kimmietea​ @karmezii​

Tag list: @shelbyblinded​

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[montyrakusen]

Voices in the Wind, the Northern Isles of Shetland Part 3

I awoke one morning in someone else’s flat and I couldn’t remember how I got there. My friend, fellow art student, Ceri Herington Pritchard  https://ceripritchard.com/  decided we should go on an adventure.

"Let's go north" I said, and we did. We decided on Shetland, as it was as far north as we could think of going in the UK. It was October and cold, wintery, and Ceri let all the camping gas escape in Aberdeen before we had even got on the ferry. We didn’t have outdoor clothes like we have today. Ceri had a greatcoat and I had a tank driver's jacket, probably from the Korean war, that I’d stolen from the Combined Cadet Force at school.  

When we arrived in Lerwick we headed north striding out as fast as we could. They were building the Sullom Voe oil terminal and the flat barren wind-swept landscape was dotted with ex red London double decker buses ferrying workers to the construction site, the destination windows read, Moorgate, Archway, Liverpool Street Station and so forth. We walked in a huge cavernous world of clouds coming from Greenland rising in the west and falling in the east with the sun shining through, highlighting the ceiling of our world and at sunset looked like God had appeared. I fell in a bog then it rained and there was freezing fog then I fell in a bog again.

On the 5th of November we were probably two of Europe’s most northerly campers, at the most northerly point of Shetland, a place where giants fought over the love of a mermaid, near the remote island of Muckle Flugga. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muckle_Flugga

Miserable, with teeth chattering and wet feet, I wore all the clothes I possessed and had to get up at 3am to crack the ice off my tent. On another night because of a storm we slept in a cement store hut and upon waking covered in dust looked like ghosts. One night, camped on a windy beach we were kept awake by boulders rolling in the surf. It was always spine chillingly cold and was only relieved by whisky in friendly pubs that felt like someones front room and there was usually a fidler. These experiences only gave me a love for this beautiful and remote place in the middle of the North Sea.

Nowhere is more than a mile from the sea on Northern Shetland and it is almost tree-less. Small crofts are dotted here and there with flapping, coloured, washing drying on lines, fishing boats far out at sea and the smell of burning peat on the wind. In those days the place was littered with abandoned rusting vehicles and the sides of the roads were covered in empty beer cans with the smiling face of Venetia Stevenson looking up at us https://www.cannyscot.com/SweetheartStout.htm, people built walls from un-returnable beer barrels and crofts lay derelict. Later, I believe, a vicar ordered a ship to take all the scrap away. No matter what the weather there was always some hardy soul out in the landscape, a small moving dot in the distance digging the peat, driving the sheep, rowing a boat. If you listened carefully there were voices on the wind.

I loved this wonderful strange place and began to plan a photo documentary. I first returned and shot it in 35mm colour transparency with the hope of printing it up in Ciba Chrome of which I was a big fan. Unfortunately the processing lab put a scratch through every roll of film and in those days it was impossible to retouch.

Each year I would return, shooting medium format black and white first with Hasselblad and then later Rollie 6006/8 and I gradually built up a collection of images searching for the essence of the place. I became friends with people there, the local doctor from Mid Yell and some people who looked after otters. They recognised me in the pubs.

Some years I walked the islands, some years I took my blue Landrover with its home made stereo and two cassettes that I bought in Aberdeen, The Smiths, Meat is Murder and Elvis Costello, Almost Blue. I drove around in the simmer dim the grey evening light, eventually knowing both albums by heart. The RAF invited me to their mid-summer beach party, it never got dark and in the morning I was dive bombed by bonxsies, mad sea birds, as I staggered around the landscape looking for fresh water. I fell in a bog again.

I was befriended by people who fed me boiled ham and potatoes, plied me with drink and had me shoot shotguns at empty cans thrown in the air. “Just mind the sheep, lad”. Coming out of the most northerly pub at half past eleven at night with the sun still shining in my eyes I stepped onto a Norwegian Trawler and got caught up in a fight. We sat in the mess as they fought round and round on the tables and each time they came past we clutched our drinks to our chests.

The photography project ran out of steam, my life had changed, I was busy at work, until Lizzie encouraged me to finish it and we travelled back there together to see Up Helly Aa, the ceremonial burning of the Viking longship https://www.uphellyaa.org/ and to show my work in progress to Shetland Arts with a view to exhibiting it. We stayed in Mid Yell in the snow with 125mph winds full of ice. Huge squalls blew in from the ocean flying low, dropping ice into the waves. When we were in Lerwick we were guests of the head of the Jarl squad, the viking leader of Up Helly Aa, a tremendous honour.

In the early morning, whilst he slept, we secretly tried on his Viking gear. I always felt welcome there and people were kind. An exhibition was arranged in Lerwick, British Airways helped me fly it up and then it travelled all over Scotland. I was interviewed by a lovely lady with small round John Lennon Spectacles from Radio Shetland, only problem was I could hardly understand a word she said. The exhibition opening was very well attended from islands far and wide, made more impressive by the fact no one could get back home to their islands until the ferries restarted in the morning. I felt proud when they said I had shown their home to them in a different way.

Text edit: John Coombes Encouragement: Liz Rakusen

[cottonwren]

What’s my name, Mr Mosley?

Summary: Oswald Mosley forgets Ada’s name. She reminds him.

Word count: 1.5k

---

“You are aware that without a chaperone they’ll kick you out.” 

Ada’s skin crawled with his voice, with how fucking smug he sounded, with the fact that it was him. She looked at Jessie with a sigh and gestured behind her. “I’m going to sort this out, Jess, I’ll be right back. Look after my drink.” She handed Jessie her bag - her gun was concealed in her dress pocket, should anything actually happen.

“Mr Mosley, as I’m sure you’re aware, I am currently in the pub. I have been here for the past three hours, catching up with a friend who anyone can see is also a woman.” Ada told him, gesturing to Jessie behind her, who looked positively murderous. “As much as the sentiment is appreciated, I would like to get back to my friend.”

“I’m sure your brother wouldn’t like to hear you talk to me like this, Ada.” His voice was crooning and sickly sweet, painfully so. Ada could feel her bones rot, and knew it was bad for the baby.

“My name, Oswald, is Miss Shelby. You will do well to remember it.” She told him, getting more and more agitated, but keeping her cool. “First names are unprofessional, and I don’t want to know you in any other capacity than as my brother’s adviser.”

“I think you’ll find that we’ll get along incredibly well if you just talk to me - it doesn’t do a widow well to be hostile to pleasant gentlemen.” Mosley hummed, as if it were just a simple fact. “Your brother calls you dangerous, but I wonder if that’s just due to the lack of company.”

“It doesn’t do an uncastrated man well to come near me and talk not only about my deceased husband but my capabilities.” 

Mosley placed his hand on her forearm - her arms were crossed over her chest, shoulders bulking out. “I’m sorry, the death of your husband must have been hard on you. I overstepped the mark, dear Ada.”

“The death of my husband is none of your concern. Get your hand off of me otherwise you’ll end up without it.” Ada told him, grabbing his wrist with her hand after he hesitated to move and beginning to twist. 

She heard a pop and smiled, keeping him doubled over. “So, Mr Mosley. Let’s try this again. What’s my name?”

He began to try and struggle through the pain, and people began to look. They saw her face and turned away - she assumed it was Jessie she could hear telling the staff that she was the worst of the Shelby clan and it would be safer to have it just happen without interference. 

“What is my name, Mr Mosley?” Ada repeated, spitting on the back of his head. 

“Did you ju-Ah!” 

Ada began to twist further, wondering how far up the arm she could damage. She’d carry on until she got her reply, of course, but she wondered just how much she could do. Tommy would kill him anyway, once she got back to his. He would have to, realistically.

Plus, he always got overprotective of her. For once she didn’t mind.

“What is my name, Mr Mosley?” She hissed, issuing a kick to his shin. Her blood was boiling, and she knew she was giving him too much time to think of his next moves.

“Miss Shelby.” He gasped out, apparently weaker than Ada had assumed.

“Good. Now, you’re going to leave, and we’re never going to speak about this again, are we? Because you know that the fate that lies before you if you do is so much worse than anything you’ve experienced, don’t you?” Ada asked, her voice sadistic and just as sickly as his was. “And you’re not going to try and intimidate any women in pubs again, are you?”

“Let me go!” He shouted, now beginning to try and move, but ending up on the sticky wood floor. 

“Answer. Me.” Ada growled, her voice like gravel. She glared at him and then let him go, taking her gun out. “I’ll see you in the House of Commons, Mr Mosley.”

He left, and the pub fell into silence. Ada dropped back into her seat and downed her drink, shaking her free hand. “I swear to God, Jess. That vile pig.”

Jessie sighed, having bought herself some pork scratchings as she waited. “Look, Ade. As great as that would have felt, and as sadistic as you are, you need to go tell Tommy what you’ve done. It’ll come back to bite you in the arse, even you can see that coming, right?”

“Fuck. Yeah.” Ada groaned, laying her head on the table. “I’m normally the smart one, what have I done?”

“You protected yourself and your unborn child, and that’s reasonable. He was being vile.” Jessie reasoned, but Ada knew Jessie too well, and knew that she wouldn’t let bias give in. It was all the politics, she reckoned. “But you need to go see your brother. Like now. From what you’ve told me, it’s already serious.”

“Fucking hell, Jess! Fucking fuck.” Ada groaned, pounding the seat cushion of the booth. “Right, let’s go. I’ll drop you off at yours.”

“Do you not want me to come with you?”

“Jess, as much as I adore you, I wouldn’t subject you to me and Tommy at the same time.” Ada sighed, pulling on her coat. She had always gotten on with Tommy best for one main reason - they were almost identical. They were, before the war, only Ada was more twisted than all of them, and planned. He came back and they were on an even field, only Ada still believed in love and justice.

It was their contrast in morals that made them such an incredible team - Tommy having no morals, and Ada thinking economically when she bought vegetables. It was because of Ada’s morals that they knew how to fuck people up the most, how to truly traumatise should the occasion arise.

“That’s fair.” Jessie nodded, downing her drink and passing her her bag. “Let’s go then.”

Ada dropped Jessie off quite quickly and without any fuss, urgent to get to Arrow House. The more she thought, the more she panicked. As a general rule, Ada Shelby did not panic. She screamed, she fought, she harmed, but she did not panic. It was a waste of time.

Once she pulled up to Arrow house it was just turning midnight, and Ada knew that Lizzie would be pissed off at her for disturbing the house. Ada also knew that if she didn’t, Lizzie might wake up without a head. Tommy might thank her.

“Miss Shelby, I wasn’t aware you were coming.” Francis told her, her expression vacant and empty. Ada wondered if that was what happened when you had to wait on Tommy Shelby MP OBE hand and foot every day.

“I wasn’t, but there was an incident. I need to talk to Thomas. He will tell you that it can wait until the morning, but please could you tell him that Ada is panicking.” Ada smiled, walking in and hanging her coat up. 

“I will go talk to him, Miss Shelby.” She nodded, quickly scuttling off like a strange cross between a nun and a crab. Aquatic, but modest.

Within five minutes, Tommy was running down the stairs, a panicked look in his eyes. “Ada, what happened? Francis said you were panicking.”

“Mosley came to the bar Jessie and I were at and wouldn’t stop coming onto me, and then he brought up Freddie, and called me dear, so I started twisting his arm…”

There was a prolonged silence of anticipation between them, though Ada didn’t need say any more. They knew each other like clockwork.

“I dislocated his hand, spat on him and made him run out of the bar.” Ada admitted, running a hand through her hair. “Jessie made me come tell you. With what happened in the field, and what happened with Bonnie, I didn’t want to take any chances. Karl is with Polly for the night, he couldn’t be safer.”

“Fucking hell, Ade.” Tommy sat next to her on the sofa - he was wearing a jumper she had gotten him for his birthday as a joke. It was a silvery colour, and reminded Ada of him.

“Tell me you’d have done any different.” 

“I’d have done worse.” Tommy didn’t need to say it, because she knew it to be true. Even though she hated him half the time, she always knew that were she or Karl in trouble, he would be there with a machine gun.

“Maybe that would have been better. Now he’s just angry.”

Tommy looked at her for a second, the initial adrenaline of Ada being in a bad way subsiding now that she was right in front of him and very obviously what a Shelby could consider fine.“I know we’re both thinking that we kill him but I’d like you to convince me otherwise.” 

“He said that you wouldn’t like it if you heard me talking to him like that. I think killing him might do some good, he’s pretty shit.” Ada reasoned softly, dropping her head on his shoulder and kicking her shoes off. “What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to have to kill him eventually.” Tommy reasoned, an arm on the back of the sofa. It had been a while since he and Ada had even spoken without fighting or disagreeing.

“You’re going to kill everyone eventually, Tommy. We need an actual plan.” 

“We need to see if he’s actually backing off…”

“Tommy, I might be dangerous, but there is nothing more dangerous than a rejected fascist who stinks surprisingly of piss.”

“Piss?” He asked softly, surprised. 

“Yeah… not what I was expecting, really, Tom.”

“No, I wouldn’t either… there was an article about pheromones in the daily mail, you don’t think..?” Tommy grinned, almost beginning to laugh.

Ada burst into giggles, which turned into full on belly laughter. 

Charlie found them first in the morning and cuddled in with Tommy and Ada, only to be found by Francis half an hour later. 

She let them lie in.

[my-job-is-to-fangirl]

“You know disgrace isn’t that bad. Once you settle into it.”

SO. I was watching TV one day and as I was flipping the channels, I saw an ad for a new show, ‘American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace’. I was sold just on the fact that it said Versace, I love fashion; and crime, (if you know me, you know I love crime) and then I saw Darren Criss. That’s all. I had to watch it. I did a bit of research and found out that he was playing the killer, and I had no clue that Versace was assassinated. So I began watching it, and the premiere episode itself, I was hooked; I knew I’d be dedicated and watch religiously. My mom watched it with me too, because she also likes crime (at times, when I’m not forcing her to watch something like Hannibal while eating dinner).

Anyway, I missed the second episode itself <rolls eyes> So much for being ‘dedicated’. I went to my best friend’s house the day after the 5th episode aired, and I made her watch. She was hooked too, so we watched the first two episodes together. I realized then, that TV was censoring out some important scenes that added to the plot line, so I switched to watching online. But yes, bottom line, watch it online, make sure you have subs, or earphones on with the highest volume. None of the characters speak very loudly. I dont even know why this paragraph is here, I apologize.

NOW, COMING TO THE ACTUAL SHOW. It was brilliant, I thought. Like, really. It is based on the book ‘Vulgar Favors’, which I really want to read now after watching the show. The gist of the show, in my words: The first shot is set on July 15, 1997. Gianni Versace is currently in his Miami house (mansion) and he goes out to buy some newspapers. The mansion faces the beach by the way, and the show was shot in the actual Versace home. As he goes back home, he is shot by a man (Darren Criss) and collapses at the gate of his house. A man (Antonio, his partner, played by Ricky Martin) comes out from the house and screams for help to the bystanders. Criss, who plays Andrew Cunanan (the killer, and part of, apparently, one of FBI’s biggest failed manhunts), is an unreliable narrator, to say the least, making up stories to tell each person that he meets throughout the episodes. The plot, as such, goes backwards, and shows all the other murders that Cunanan has committed, along with character backstories.

Thats the gist, and I have a lot to say about the show, so get some food or a beverage (no alcohol, kids) and sit if you want to actually read through this whole post :p

Okay, first off, the casting. I cannot cannot cannot get over the casting on this show. I will insert pictures to prove that the casting was impeccable and almost scarily, uncannily similar to the real people. I will talk about the casting as well as the characters themselves here.

Young Andrew- Darren Criss as the older Andrew- the real Andrew Cunanan

Edgar Ramirez as Versace- the real Gianni Versace (is this not freaky)

The real Donatella Versace- Penelope Cruz as Donatella

The real Antonio D’Amico- Ricky Martin as Antonio

I HAD TO INCLUDE THIS PICTURE BECAUSE LOOK.AT.THE.SIMILARITY.ITS.UNCANNY.

//// Andrew Cunanan is the main lead of the show, not Versace, as the title might suggest. But the reason for the show being named after Versace makes sense, because that’s the incident that finally brought Cunanan into proper notice, and what pushed him over the edge, maybe. Darren Criss, I cannot explain in words how good his acting was. His charm, his little dimples, his attire, the way he spoke, everything seemed to match 100% with the details given about the real Cunanan, as given by his family and friends.

His character, from the very first episode, is shown to be charming, intelligent (IQ of 147) and subtly at first, but then clearly- a prolific liar. He lies his way through things, he seems to have suffered from antisocial personality disorder, which according to what I read, causes the lack of empathy, which is exactly what Cunanan has. More on this later. He lies about his personality (he says in the first episode, ‘I tell people what they need to hear,’ insinuating that he told gay people he was gay, and straight people he was straight. He was, in fact, gay, and also an escort). He tells his friends, Lizzie and another guy (unnamed) in the first episode, how Versace invited him to his Opera show. This scene, set back in 1990, is explained further, as we see that in reality, Cunanan had faked an Italian background, just to talk to Versace. But he really did go to the Opera, and that night was what made Cunanan do what he did, which is explained in the last episode.

It’s also cool how they added some small details, to add to his character- he ends up eating in times of distress, or after a killing, or before a killing. He always tells people the same lies- this really stood out to me, because its hard for someone to keep up the same lies all the time. It was always that his father owned pineapple plantations in the Philippines, and that he was writing a book, and that he had a lot of money from all his clients. He also always tells people he is better with older men, and not people his age, which shows as the show progresses, how many older men he has as clients.

Cunanan essentially started his killings way before Versace, killing 4 other people. I get the feeling that the smallest of things were what triggered him to kill.

Jeff (Jeffrey) Trail, the first victim, was his close friend, and an ex- US Navy Officer. They got into a small fight, and Cunanan killed him with a hammer, in front of their mutual friend, and Cunanan’s ex-love interest, David Madson, who is the next victim.

David tells Cunanan that they cannot live a happy life together, not after what he did to Jeff, and Cunanan tells him ‘We could have been happy’, before shooting him. Cunanan really did love David though, which is clear till the very last episode.

Lee Miglin, the third victim, had probably the most horrific end. He was a 70+ year old famous architect, one of Cunanan’s clients, who tells him that their relationship cannot be real, and indirectly says that finance is the key point in their ‘relationship’, if thats even what it can be called. Cunanan, as revenge, or for whatever reason, gags Miglin’s face with duct tape, throws bags of cement on him and uses a hacksaw to kill him. He kills and leaves the body in the garage, after placing several gay pornographic magazines around him, to prove to the world that Miglin was not who he said he was. Possibly, I think, because Miglin says their relationship cannot be ‘real’ (because he was married to a very successful businesswoman), and Cunanan knows that the world doesn’t know the real Lee Miglin.

The fourth victim, William Reese, was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Cunanan kills him and takes his car to go to Miami. Cunanan is polite, even in the case of a killing. He asks Reese- ‘Is there a downstairs? Can I lock you in there?’ He may have hesitated for a moment, but makes his decision to shoot him once Reese tells him that he has a family that he would like to see again. Its possible that Cunanan made up his mind, because of his strange and strained childhood.

Gianni Versace, the final and the most famous victim. He, on the night of the Opera, tells Cunanan that they cannot be together, and that rejection finally pushed him to the edge.

What is so different, in a very strange way, is that you cant help but empathize for Andrew Cunanan. Yes, he was a serial killer, but some scenes honestly just b r o k e my heart. In one episode, where him and David are on the run, he sits in a cafe, listening to the live singer there, while David is in the bathroom. The woman sings about who will be home when you call, will you have someone to go home to; and Cunanan sits, in the middle of the cafe, and just silently cries. Another scene that made me want to punch something (out of sadness and anger both) is in the last episode, where, Cunanan, currently hiding from the police (after Versace’s murder), calls his estranged father from a payphone, and tells him that he is in trouble and that he needs help. He sobs while talking to his father, and the father promises him he’ll be there in 24 hours, and also tells him, ‘Men don’t cry, remember?’ By the time Cunanan goes to his hideout (a houseboat) after packing his bags, his father is giving an interview on tv, insisting that Cunanan isn’t gay, and can’t be. I wanted him dead. There are some scenes from his childhood, where the father (Modesto), treats Cunanan, the youngest of four siblings, like a Prince, and on the side, calls him out for ‘not being a man’. Modesto keeps calling him weak because Andrew cries. He blames him for being weak minded like his mother and calls him sissy, slaps him and says ‘be a man’ and repeatedly telling him, ‘you don’t have it in you’.

(sorry about the blurred face, I panicked)

Some iconic scenes of Andrew Cunanan- (THE FIRST 2 ARE LINKS PLEASE OPEN THEM) 1. Pump up the jam– Till 45 seconds. This scene is right after the murder of Jeff Trail, and you can see how he has no empathy. This is my all time favourite scene from the entire show, I think Criss is genius. 2. Gloria– Till 45 seconds. 3. All the scenes where he dances in parties and/or other places too

Lastly, there are two more iconic scenes I’d like to talk about. Last episode, he watched as the news channels talked about him being the only suspect in these murders on TV, and a bottle of champagne pops open while he’s watching. He laughs in shock, and ends up laughing his head off, clutching his stomach. I found that scene genius. And he eats dog food out of desperation in the last episode, because he is holed up in that house boat for days. It was so sad, but so real.

The last few minutes of the show have live coverage of the hunt for Cunanan, broadcasting live how the police is going into the house and everything, and the last thought that Cunanan has before he shoots himself is- ‘I’m so happy right now’, which is what he says to Versace the night of the Opera.

Now, lastly for my lecture on Cunanan, I think Darren Criss was genius, and I think he fit the role perfectly, and I’m not saying it just because I love Darren Criss (I love him, if you can’t tell already), but genuinely, he moulded and fit the character to a glove. I read a lot about the real Cunanan, and I think the show did complete justice to him. Ryan Murphy, thank you for this show.

NOW. THINGS OTHER THAN CUNANAN THAT I LOVED:

// The show dealt with real problems such as homophobia; as seen in the case of Antonio, Versace’s partner, who doesn’t get any understanding from the people, or even Donatella, about his love for Gianni; they lived together for 15 years but there is still no consideration for their relationship. The most harrowing scene is when the priest at Versace’s funeral service let’s everyone kiss his hands except Antonio. This leads Antonio to attempt committing suicide by overdosing on pills.

There is a scene in the last episode where Ronnie (one of Cunanan’s friends and fellow druggie), gives the police some statements. All his lines have a sinister undertone, and gave me goosebumps, showing the real situations back then in the 90’s.

“You were disgusted by him, long before he became disgusting. You’re so used to us lurking in the shadows, and, you know, most of us, we oblige. People like me, we just, we drift away. We get sick, nobody cares.”

Here, he is talking about how the police, and society in general, never cared for the homosexuals, and how they never gave them a second thought. He speaks for the entire LGBTQ+ community back then, I feel, when he says this, talking about how nobody cares about their condition. There is a scene in the beginning of the show where the FBI has flyers printed with Cunanan’s details, but doesn’t actually distribute them, because they think its unimportant. They also don’t listen to the local police officer, a woman, who insists that they check all the gay clubs around Miami, seeing as Cunanan was a gay prostitute, which the FBI dismisses. Turns out, that is where he goes most frequently, and the police could have caught him earlier, but didn’t. Versace and Antonio being partners is also treated as a huge deal, along with the fact that they had escorts frequently visit the house.

Ronnie also tells the police: “Andrew is not hiding, he’s trying to be seen.” This is one of truest things said on the show, among several others. Cunanan is desperate for attention, and doesn’t want to be hidden in the shadows, he wants the world to see him. Everything he does, he does in plain sight; he uses his real name and identity, never tries to hide it, almost as if he wants to be caught, and the world would know who he was. He always tries to be the center of attention, whether it was in school, college, or later in life. He uses his real name everywhere he goes, and in a pawn shop, he gave his ID, but the woman never paid attention, because the police never put out the notice for until after a week of the murder spree. There is also a scene at a party at a gay club, where amidst the loud music, a guy asks him what he does, and Cunanan replies, “I’m Andy. I’m a serial killer.” He also calls himself a stockbroker, and several other things. He reveals his entire name as well. The guy laughs it off, not knowing anything about manhunt, because it was still not out in the media.

He always wanted to be (and was voted in high school) ‘A name to be remembered by’.

// I loved how the show took its story backwards. The first episode began with the last killing, and each episode showed flashbacks with Cunanan’s older victims and their backstories, adding so much clarity to the plot. It was different, and something I’d never seen in any show before. It really left an impact, and made sure you didn’t miss the next episode, because you’ll have to watch it to know what happened earlier. I also loved how the last two episodes were when we found out about Cunanan’s childhood, showing us why and how he became what he was.

// The scenes with Modesto, Cunanan’s father, were so frustratingly good. I hated the character with all my heart, which was obviously the intention. There is a shot with Modesto telling Andrew about how his mom was sick, and he was the one who took care of him when he was growing up. At this point, Modesto gets Andrew a car. Andrew closes the car window and the moms reflection shows up, perhaps symbolic of how he cut her out from his life, piece by piece, memory by memory. I’ve inserted the screenshot of the scene here:

// Another character I loved was Mrs. Miglin. Her acting was so real. When Lee dies, she refuses to look at the body, or to hear anything that the police had to say. Whether she knows about him being gay is unknown to the viewers. Her reactions to the public wondering if she was even sad about her husbands death were brilliant. She always has a made-up face, looking calm and normal, and a few days after the death, she removes the makeup. If people see her makeup coming off when she cries, she wonders about their reactions, which is why she kept a cool, composed face until now. I found this entire sequence brilliant, showing how the media and the public generally portray and see celebrities, and never leave them alone in peace.

// Cunanan’s best friend, Lizzie, gives a statement on television, in the last episode, when he is in hiding. To me, these are the words that pushed him to surrender and kill himself. I think the fact that the words came from the only person who loved him in the entire world really made him realize how much trouble he was in, and that he saw no choice but to kill himself. This is what she says: “I know that the most important thing to you in the world is what others think of you.” This is so true, considering the fact that he always wanted the attention, and constantly wanted people to know things about him, and the fact that he needed to get feedback and know what people thought of his actions and his background.

He feeds lies to Versace as well, about him writing a book, and that he was going to publish it soon. Versace believes him, and tells him about how he needs to finish writing the book, and that he was sure it’d do well. Cunanan asks Versace if he could be his protege and help him out, but Versace declines politely, telling him he didn’t need any assistants right now. This also adds to Cunanan’s rage against Versace.

// You can see how Andrew got the compulsive lying. Modesto, in the last episode, while being interviewed about Andrew, lies on tv saying they discussed movie rights to his life story and that they’re talking to several studios about releasing it soon. He was also the one who taught Andrew to always be polite, and to be good mannered. It is shown in the last two episodes where Modesto gives him books about manners, and even sends him to a prep school.

Now, coming to small descriptions about the other characters. Small, I promise. Promiseeeeeeee.

Gianni and Donatella Versace- Both these characters were well rounded, and wonderful actors. Edgar Ramirez and Penelope Cruz did a brilliant job in portraying the Versace siblings. The fights, the affection, the remorse, the love, everything was so real.

Antonio D’Amico- Ricky Martin!!!! I also watched the show because I saw his name in the cast :p* His character was such a sad one. He was never accepted by society, as Gianni’s partner. Donatella hated him and said that he never gave Gianni anything, no family, no kids, nothing, and if he had, she would have had some respect for him. It was also speculated that he gave Versace HIV, which wasn’t true in the end. Antonio was really nice, because he really loved Gianni, and he proposes to him too, saying they should get married, and forget the world around them.

David Madson- Ohmygod, my poor heart. David was genuinely the sweetest guy, and it felt like he ignored the voices in his head saying bad things about Andrew, because he really liked him. It was almost as though he had Stockholm Syndrome when practically kidnapped by Cunanan. He had a chance to escape from the bathroom (in the cafe), but he chooses to come back, showing that maybe he still had a soft spot for Andrew. His childhood and youth was sad too, and the strained, but very happy relationship with his father plays in the back of his head when he is shot.

Jeff Trail- His character was also so so sad. He was gay and in the Navy, which was something that was unacceptable at the time. The Chief in the Navy gives out handbooks to all the officers about informing higher authorities if they knew that someone was gay. One night, Jeff is seen comforting another man; the next morning, the books are handed out as a warning. The man, after being beaten up, tells the Chief all the people that he knows are gay, and he mentions a man with a tattoo, meaning Jeff (no one knows). He tries to cut his tattoo off but stops because of the very apparent blood, and later tries to hang himself, but stops.

Lee Miglin- An old man, who is very well known for his architectural abilities, has some secrets. When his wife is out of town on business, he calls his escort, Cunanan. Explained above^^

Extra admiration for the young Andrew Cunanan, he was genius. He took on the smallest of details that Darren Criss had in his character; things like a small smile, a smug look, and the polite charm of someone who you would never have thought to be a psychopath.

‘What if you had a dream your whole life that you were someone special but no one believed it?’

// Andrew Cunanan //

Here are some very cool articles and videos that I found about the whole incident. 1. Facing death 2. Five lives cut short 3. Video (Who was Gianni Versace’s killer?)

Here are some screenshots I took from the show, that I liked.

These are both from the last episode, the one on the left is after he hears on the media that he is the only suspect, and the one on the right is of him eating dog food.

Sorry for the bad quality, but this is one of my favourite shots in the entire show.

// The entire show was shot beautifully, and the locations were shown in all their grandeur, especially the Versace mansion. The characters all looked the part, and certainly played the part. I found that adding subtle hints of symbolism in the episodes really made a difference.

Thats all :p* I hope everyone who reads this enjoys. I don’t even know if anyone will read this but I really wanted to talk about the show because it impacted me so much, and the characters really shone. Simply brilliant show. I would highly recommend it to everyone. There are a few scenes that are a little hard to watch, but you’ll get used to it. Bye now 😀

P.S. Darren Criss said this in a first look video I found, I think it encapsulates the entire show:

“Truth is, you know, fear and prejudice, unfortunately, is always in fashion.”

ACS2: The Assassination of Gianni Versace "You know disgrace isn't that bad. Once you settle into it." SO. I was watching TV one day and as I was flipping the channels, I saw an ad for a new show, 'American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace'.

[bamby0304]

The Hart: Chapter One

Summary:  When Lizzie was just a few months old, she lost her father. Fifteen years later she lost her mother, and then her sister. Now in her early twenties Lizzie spends her days and nights hunting things and saving people. When the Winchesters meet the bright eyed and bubbly blonde they don’t realise what they’re in for… and neither does she…

Part Twenty-Two: Unusual.

Masterlist

Warnings: Lil’ bit of violence.

Bamby

EPOV

I sat at the table in our hotel room, watching the spoon in my coffee. Seeing as I was alone- Dean was out getting food while Sam was at the morgue getting some info for the case- I was taking this time to practice. Practice what, you might ask? Telekinesis.

A few weeks had passed since we'd finished the case on Highway 41. A few weens had passed since the incident where the glass in my hand came out all on its own, like magic. A few days later I'd reached for the door handle of the Impala, only the door opened before I could touch it. After that it didn't take long for me to figure out what was happening to me, so I started looking into the ability to move things with the mind.

Times like this, when I was alone, I started to build control over my ability. I was able to move a few things every now and then, but I couldn't always do it. The whole thing was both frustrating and interesting. Not to mention scary.

I hadn't built up the confidence to tell Sam or Dean yet. I had no idea how they'd react. On one hand, I knew they wouldn't hate me. But at the same time, I knew something would change between us. Especially with Dean.

How could he treat me the same after? Why would he? It's not like he had an ability. It's not like he knew how it felt. I knew things would change between us, I just didn't know how.

At that moment, the spoon in my coffee slowly began to move, twitching at first before it began to stir at a steady pace.

"So, strong negative emotions seem to get you going. Pain and fear." I nodded to the spoon as if it could understand me. "Kinda wish you were a little more positive."

The front door suddenly opened.

I quickly reached for my cup, grabbing the spoon with one hand as the other lifted the mug off the table as I began to stir the drink with my hand instead of my mind. "You're back early." I smiled nervously as Dean walked into the room. Sam was right behind him. "So, what'd you find out?"

"The victim, Nate Mulligan, was a lawyer. He had claw and bite marks all over him. They're calling it an animal attack." Sam noted as he moved headed for the beds, taking a seat, neither of them noticing the fact I was nervous. "But his heart was missing."

"This lawyer guy the first heart-free corpse in town?" Dean asked, putting the food in the fridge before moving to his bag, which he grabbed and took to his bed.

"First man." I answered, relaxing a little. "While you guys were away I did some research. Apparently, over the past year, several women have gone missing. Their bodies washed up later in the bay, too deteriorated to come up with anything solid."

Dean dropped on to his bed as he looked to me. "But no hearts?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

"Yeah, the coroner told me about them. They were all Hookers working at Hunter's Point. Cops are trying to keep things under wrap, but they're looking for a serial killer." Sam added before he turned to me. "So, how'd you find out."

"The internet... and I may have gone out for a few minutes to get some extra sugar for the room. Which is when I bumped into a cop."

Sam grinned. "So, he just told you all about the case?"

"Flirting is a powerful weapon, my friend." Giving him a wink, I stood from my chair and headed over to the couch that was across from their beds. "Anyway, all the murders line up with the week leading up to the full moon each month."

"Which is this week, right?" Dean asked.

"Hence the lawyer." Sam nodded.

Dean actually smiled. "Awesome."

Sam gave a light chuckle. "Dean, could you be a bigger geek about this?"

I looked to each of the brothers, confused. "Why is he so excited?" I asked, placing my cup of coffee on to the small table next to me.

"Are you kidding?" Dean turned to me. "What about a human by day, a freak animal killing machine by moonlight, don't you understand? Werewolves are badass." He told me, excitement shining in his eyes. "We haven't seen one since we were kids."

"Okay, sparky, and you know what? After we kill it, we can go to Disneyland." Sam joked.

Ignoring him, Dean pulled out a small box from his bag. "You know what the best part about it is? We already know how to bring these suckers down." Opening the box, he pulled out a silver bullet. "One of these bad boys right to the heart." He grinned, putting the bullet away. "So, what's our next move?"

Sam shrugged. "Talk to the girl who found the body."

SPOV

"I don't understand, I already gave my statement." Madison said as she led us into her apartment.

"Right, yeah, well, we just need to verify a few things." I explained.

Sighing, she gestured to the guy sitting on her couch. "This is my neighbour, Glen. Glen, this is detective-"

"Landis." Dean finished for her. "This here is Detective Dante." He gave me a pat on the back before gesturing to Lizzie. "And Detective Francis."

Glen nodded. "Well, guess I'll leave you to it."

As he stepped up to Madison, she offered him a kind smile. "Okay. Thanks for the casserole."

"Oh, how thoughtful." Dean watched as Glen left.

Ignoring Dean, Glen kept his attention on Madison. "Just call if you need anything." With that, he left.

Once he was gone, Madison started to talk again. "He's sweet. He came over to check on me." She told us before gesturing to the dining table. "Have- Have a seat."

The four of us sat down, as I got to business. "You must be pretty shaken up. You were Nate Mulligan's assistant?"

"For two years, yeah." Madison nodded.

"So you knew all about him?" Dean asked.

"Probably knew more about him than he did. Nate was... he was nice."

I felt like Madison was holding out on us. "But?"

"Nothing really, I-" she shrugged. "You get a few scotches in him and he'd hit on anyone in a five-mile radius. You know the type."

When Dean gave a light chuckle I looked over to see him grinning at Madison, looking her up and down. It was clear what he was thinking. "Yeah. I do, actually." I nodded.

"Quite well." Lizzie added. Dean turned to us, offended. But before he could say anything, Lizzie went on. "So, do you know if Nate had any enemies?"

Madison looked confused. "What do you mean? It sure looked like an animal attack."

"We're just covering all the bases." Dean assured her. "Anyone that might've had a beef with him? Former client, an ex?"

I noticed his last suggestion got a reaction out of Madison. "What?" I asked.

She shook her head. "This is embarrassing, but my ex-boyfriend, Kurt-"

Dean cut her off. "Kurt have a last name?"

"Mueller." she answered, and then continued. "After we broke up, he went kind of nuts. He's... well, he's kinda been stalking me. He got it in his head that something was going on between Nate and I. He showed up at my office."

That sounded like he might be our guy. "What happened?"

"Kurt got into it with Nate, threw a punch before security grabbed him. I was lucky to keep my job."

Aggressive. Definitely a warning sign. Even when werewolves were in their human forms they could be overly aggressive and dangerous. Short fuses. If this guy was as violent as Madison was suggesting then he didn't just sound like our guy, I was pretty sure he was our guy.

Dean must have been thinking the same as I was. "When was the last time you saw Kurt?" he asked.

"A few night ago. Actually, the night Nate died. We were all grabbing drinks at this bar and Kurt showed up."

"And?" Dean pressed.

"Nothing. It was like he was watching me. Then he was gone. Tell you the truth... he scares me."

DPOV

As we headed back to the car, I looked to Sam and Liz. "So, what do you think?"

"Stalker ex-boyfriend? He hates the boss." Sam noted. "And he was there that night."

"You think he's out dog-faced boy?" I asked.

Sam shrugged. "Well, it's a theory."

Liz opened the back door to the car. "We've gone on a lot less."

I rested my arm on the roof of the car. "You feeling good enough to pay Kurt a visit tonight?"

It was a little odd. After the case on Highway 41, Liz had miraculously healed. Her headaches still came but they were nowhere near as bad as they had been. She was eating normally, sleeping a little better. Her humour had come back too, she was flirting again- with me and other guys. It was like nothing had happened. Despite that, I was still worried about her. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I was waiting for it to all come back and knock her down harder than it had before.

But she just gave me a cheeky smile. "Don't worry, Winchester. I can keep up." She winked before slipping into Baby.

EPOV

Dean picked the lock to Kurt's front door, opening it before he stepped into the apartment. Sam and I followed, closing the door behind us. We all split up to search the place for anything that might tell us if Kurt was our guy or not.

It was nice to be back to normal. Being able to stand without feeling like I was going to collapse. Not having to be worried about getting into a fight, but I was strong enough to hold my own. Being stuck at Bobby's, or in hotel rooms, it had been a killer. Sure, I'd gone on a few cases, but the guys hadn't wanted me to do much more than some research, and even then, it was minimal.

Things were back to normal now. We went to bars, and I could pick up and leave with anyone I wanted, knowing Sam and Dean didn't like it but they couldn't stop me. I was back on the couch too- which I honestly didn't mind. I felt guilty taking a bed from one of the guys. I was eating all the foods I loved, I was doing all the things I loved- the main one being hunting.

If I'd still been sick, there was no way the guys would let me go with them to a potential werewolf's apartment in the middle of the night when the werewolf could actually be a werewolf.

"Anything?" Sam asked.

I sighed, shaking my head. "I got nothing."

"Nothing but leftovers and a six pack." Dean answered, closing the fridge door.

"Check the freezer." Sam suggested. "Maybe there's some human hearts behind the Haagen-Dazs or something." He smirked, clearly joking. But Dean actually went to check anyway.

As he reached for the freezer door, a noise outside caught our attention. I pulled my gun out from the back of my pants as Dean and I headed for the back door. Dean slid it open and stepped out, looking around.

"Anything?" I asked.

He shook his head as he went to turn to me, only to stop. "Hold on..." Stepping closer to the edge of the balcony, he looked the wall of the building next to the balcony. "Come here."

Stepping out to join him, I looked to where he was pointing. Along the wall were long claw marks that ran all the way down. "So... are we thinking the neighbourhood cat did that, or a werewolf?"

Dean and I had gone back inside to keep looking around. We'd been at it for less than ten minutes before we heard a gunshot. The three of us were out of the apartment in an instant, running in the direction of the sound.

When we'd left the building and entered the alley way next to it, it hadn't taken long before we'd found a body of a police officer behind a dumpster.

Sam pulled out his phone. "I'll call 911."

As he did that, Dean moved the dumpster out of the way so he could crouch down by the body. Looking at it, there was no doubt he'd been killed by a werewolf. He heart was still in place, but there was claw marks all over him.

"I'd say Kurt's looking more and more like our Cujo." Dean noted.

Sam stepped back over to us, shifting on the spot nervously. "If he's out here, we better check on Madison."

I was not an idiot. She was a good-looking girl, and the brothers were both single. I knew they liked her. Or they were at least attracted to her. Honestly, I didn't have a problem with it. But if their attraction towards the woman messed with the case in anyway, then I would have a problem.

DPOV

Sam raised his hand and knocked on Madison's door before taking a step back to stand with Liz and I as we waited. A moment later a door opened, but it was the one behind us.

"What's going on?" Glen asked.

"Police business, Glen." Was all I was going to give him. This guy clearly liked Madison, and I was not going to let that get in the way of our investigation.

Madison's door opened then. She stood in the door way, dressed in her pyjamas, looking at Liz, Sam and I. "What is it?"

"Well, maybe we should talk privately?" Sam suggested, looking over at Glen.

"Yeah, of course." Madison nodded as she took a step to the side. "Please, come in." We all walked into her apartment before she closed the door and started for the kitchen. "I was just making some coffee, do you want some."

I offered her a smile. "I'd love a cup."

Liz just rolled her eyes before giving Madison a nod. "We'd all like some, thanks."

"Sure." Madison reached for some mugs before she began to pour the coffee into them.

"Has Kurt been here?" Sam asked.

"Not exactly."

That didn't really answer his question. In fact, it just made me ask my own, "What exactly does 'not exactly mean?"

"Well, he was outside last night. Just looking. Just looking at me." She told us, causing Sam and I to share a look as she handed Liz a mug. Noticing the look, she frowned. "Has he done something?"

Sam shrugged as she handed him a cup. "We're not really sure."

"It's probably nothing." I assured her. "But we just don't wanna take any chances. In fact, one of us should probably stay here with you, just in case he stops by. Where does he work?"

"He owns a body shop." She answered, giving me my mug.

"You mind grabbing that address for us?" I asked.

She nodded and walked out to go get it. Once she was gone, Sam turned to me. "All right. You and Lizzie go, I'll stay."

"Forget that. You go after the creepy ex. I'm gonna hang here with the hot chick." I grinned.

"Dude, why do you always get to hang with the girls?"

"Because I'm older." Was all I said before taking a drink from my coffee.

"No. Screw that." He took my mug, placing both his and mine onto the bench. "We're gonna settle this the old-fashioned way." Raising his hands, he got ready to play paper-scissors-rock.

Liz rolled her eyes. "How mature."

Shrugging, I lifted my own hands. At the same time we taped our fist into our other palm three times, on the third one we chose our 'weapon'. I picked scissors, he picked rock.

"Dean, always with the scissors." He looked so smug.

But I wasn't willing to give up so easily. "Shut up. Shut up. Two out of three."

Sighing, he raised his hands once more before we played again, only to get the same results.

"God!" I groaned.

He grinned. "Bundle up out there, all right?"

Liz actually laughed as she walked out of the kitchen, shaking her head.

SPOV

I sat at Madison's dining table, waiting for Dean and Lizzie to come back. As much as I had wanted to stay because I liked Madison, I wasn't entirely sure how I was supposed to make a move.

She walked over, placing some mail on the table. "Do you wanna sit on the couch?"

"No. No, no, I'm okay."

"It's more comfortable."

"I'm fine." I insisted.

"Okay." She shrugged before walking off. A moment later she came back, dumping a basket of laundry on to the table. All of the laundry happened to be her underwear.

"You know what?" I think I will sit on that couch." I nodded, getting up and moving over to the living room. The moment I sat, my phone began to ring.

"Let me guess. You're sitting on her couch like a stiff, trying to think of something to say."

Ignoring Dean, I concentrated on the case. "Did you find Kurt?"

"He hasn't been at work all week. But because I'm good, and I mean really, really good, I got a line on where he might be." He answered before I heard the sound of the Impala door close. "What she wearing?"

"Bye, Dean." With that, I hung up.

EPOV

So, Dean had found out where Kurt was... turns out it was a strip club.

Parked out the front, Dean looked at me as I watched the building. "You can stay in the car if you want."

"Ha! And let you go in there and get distracted?" I shook my head, opening the car door. "No. I'm coming."

He grinned. "Fine by me. Maybe you can show these girls a thing or two?"

I rolled my eyes, a grin of my own forming. "Keep dreaming, Winchester?"

Stepping up to me, he wrapped his arm around my waist as he whispered in my ear. "I'm about to enter a strip joint with the hottest chick in the city. My dreams are pretty much becoming a reality."

I laughed lightly at him, shaking my head as we continued for the front door of the club. With a nod to the bouncer, he let us walk right in with no problem. Once we stepped inside we were surrounded by pink and purple neon lights, excited men, women dressed in skimpy outfits and some kind of music I honestly had no care for.

Dean's face lit up. "Now this is what I'm talking about."

"Whatever." Shaking my head I gestured to the bar. "I'm getting a drink."

"Yeah, yeah." He nodded, not even looking at me.

Sighing, I walked off, heading over to the bar, knowing Dean's attention was going to be on nothing but the dancers.

SPOV

"Wait, so Kendall married Ethan's father just to get back at him?" I asked as Madison turned the TV off. We'd just spent the last hour watching some drama show, and I surprisingly found it interesting.

"Yep." She gave a short nod. "And now she's set to inherit all the casinos that were supposed to go to Ethan."

"What a bitch."

She laughed. "Admit it, you're hooked."

"No, no, no. I- I wouldn't say I'm hooked." I insisted as I leaned back in the couch. "You know... can I ask you a question? It's... it's a little personal."

"You've seen my entire underwear collection. Go ahead."

"Okay. Um, well, you're... you're clearly smart. I mean, you house is full of great books, you know, and you're independent."

"Uh-huh." She nodded.

"What were you doing with Kurt?"

She thought about it for a moment before answering. "I don't know. I mean, it's not like he introduced himself like, 'Hi, I'm possessive, controlling, and I punch people. Wanna be my girlfriend?'." She laughed.

I nodded, chuckling a little myself. "Yeah, well, I guess we all make mistakes."

"Yeah, well, mine's wanted by the police." She noted. "You wanna know why I stayed with him? Really? I was too insecure to leave."

"I find that hard to believe. I mean, you don't really seem like the type."

"Yeah, well, some stuff happened. My life changed. I changed for the better, I think."

"What happened?"

"Well, for one thing, I got mugged."

"And that's supposed to be a good thing?"

She laughed. "I know. It sounds strange. And don't get me wrong, it rattled me, but then it hit me... I could keep feeling sorry for myself or I could take control of my life. I chose the latter. First thing I did was tell Kurt he had to go."

"Smart move."

"Apparently. Everything else just opened up, blossomed. It's all been wonderful, really." When I just nodded, she shrugged. "What? Doesn't everybody think being a victim of violence is the best thing that ever happened to them?"

"Yeah, not so much." I couldn't wipe the smile off my face as I looked over at her. "You're, unusual."

"Unusual like, unusual?" she lifted her hand to point at her head to ask if I thought she was crazy.

"No. No, no. Unusual like... impressive."

"You think so?"

It was at that moment my phone began to ring. "Sorry." reaching into my pocket, I answered the phone. "Hey."

"We found him." It was Lizzie.

"Good. Don't take your eyes off him."

"I won't. Not too sure about your brother." She sounded both annoyed and amused. Dean seemed to make her feel like that quite often. "Just calling to let you know. It's too loud in here to talk so I'm gonna go."

"Yeah, all right. Just be careful."

"Always, Sammy." I could hear the smile in her voice before she hung up.

EPOV

We were standing in the ally way outside of Kurt's apartment, I leaned against the wall next to Dean. "You seemed to have a lot of fun at the club tonight."

He grinned. "I don't know. Out of the two of us, you were getting more attention"

"What can I say? The ladies love me." I winked at him.

He chuckled, about to say something. But the sound of glass smashing had us both look up to Kurt's window, which was now broken and the lights were off.

"What the-"

Before Dean could finish, I was already running for the building.

Gun out, I kicked Kurt's front door open, knowing Dean was only a couple of steps behind me. Hurrying into the apartment, I quickly but carefully looked into every room as I made my way further and further inside. When I reached the dining room I came to a stop.

Kurt was lying on the ground, dead, someone kneeling over him.

As they turned I realised two things. One, it was the werewolf. Two, it was Madison. With that shocking news, I'd been too distracted to react as she lunged, growling, claws reaching for me.

"Liz!" Dean pushed me out of the way, causing Madison to throw him instead.

He flew through the air and hit his head as he collided with the wall. In a matter of moment he blacked out. Once he passed out Madison turned back to me.

I reached into my boot and pulled out my knife. I didn't care where I got her, I just knew I had to do some kind of damage.

As she lunged for me I swung my arm out, blade aimed at her. It sliced her arm, causing her to yell out in pain. She back handed me, pushing my head back into the coffee table. The force was so strong that in a matter of moments I fell unconscious just like Dean. The last thing I saw was Madison jump out the window.

SPOV

As I stood in the kitchen having a drink of water my phone began to ring. Pulling it from my pocket I looked to the caller ID before answering. "Dean, you guys okay?"

"We are, now that we're conscious. The werewolf knocked us out." He explained. "Sam, it's Madison."

"What?" That couldn't be right. Turning, I started for her bedroom.

"Yeah, awesome job of keeping an eye on her."

I looked into her room, seeing her in bed. "Dean, I've been here the whole time. She's in bed, asleep."

"Well, she wasn't an hour ago. Check her right arm below her elbow. Liz nicked her with a silver knife."

As I hung up Madison rolled over and woke up, smiling at me. "Morning." She sat up, holding the sheets to her. My eyes landed on the cut on her arm. Dean was right. She looked down at herself. "Where are my pyjamas?" Instead of answering I walked out of the room. "Sam? What's going on?" She followed me. "Where are you going?"

Reaching her front door, I locked it as I turned back to her. "I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you."

Bamby

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[montyrakusen]

Voices in the Wind, the Northern Isles of Shetland Part 2

I awoke one morning in someone else’s flat and I couldn’t remember how I got there. My friend, fellow art student, Ceri Herington Pritchard  https://ceripritchard.com/  decided we should go on an adventure.

"Let's go north" I said, and we did. We decided on Shetland, as it was as far north as we could think of going in the UK. It was October and cold, wintery, and Ceri let all the camping gas escape in Aberdeen before we had even got on the ferry. We didn’t have outdoor clothes like we have today. Ceri had a greatcoat and I had a tank driver's jacket, probably from the Korean war, that I’d stolen from the Combined Cadet Force at school.  

When we arrived in Lerwick we headed north striding out as fast as we could. They were building the Sullom Voe oil terminal and the flat barren wind-swept landscape was dotted with ex red London double decker buses ferrying workers to the construction site, the destination windows read, Moorgate, Archway, Liverpool Street Station and so forth. We walked in a huge cavernous world of clouds coming from Greenland rising in the west and falling in the east with the sun shining through, highlighting the ceiling of our world and at sunset looked like God had appeared. I fell in a bog then it rained and there was freezing fog then I fell in a bog again.

On the 5th of November we were probably two of Europe’s most northerly campers, at the most northerly point of Shetland, a place where giants fought over the love of a mermaid, near the remote island of Muckle Flugga. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muckle_Flugga

Miserable, with teeth chattering and wet feet, I wore all the clothes I possessed and had to get up at 3am to crack the ice off my tent. On another night because of a storm we slept in a cement store hut and upon waking covered in dust looked like ghosts. One night, camped on a windy beach we were kept awake by boulders rolling in the surf. It was always spine chillingly cold and was only relieved by whisky in friendly pubs that felt like someones front room and there was usually a fidler. These experiences only gave me a love for this beautiful and remote place in the middle of the North Sea.

Nowhere is more than a mile from the sea on Northern Shetland and it is almost tree-less. Small crofts are dotted here and there with flapping, coloured, washing drying on lines, fishing boats far out at sea and the smell of burning peat on the wind. In those days the place was littered with abandoned rusting vehicles and the sides of the roads were covered in empty beer cans with the smiling face of Venetia Stevenson looking up at us https://www.cannyscot.com/SweetheartStout.htm, people built walls from un-returnable beer barrels and crofts lay derelict. Later, I believe, a vicar ordered a ship to take all the scrap away. No matter what the weather there was always some hardy soul out in the landscape, a small moving dot in the distance digging the peat, driving the sheep, rowing a boat. If you listened carefully there were voices on the wind.

I loved this wonderful strange place and began to plan a photo documentary. I first returned and shot it in 35mm colour transparency with the hope of printing it up in Ciba Chrome of which I was a big fan. Unfortunately the processing lab put a scratch through every roll of film and in those days it was impossible to retouch.

Each year I would return, shooting medium format black and white first with Hasselblad and then later Rollie 6006/8 and I gradually built up a collection of images searching for the essence of the place. I became friends with people there, the local doctor from Mid Yell and some people who looked after otters. They recognised me in the pubs.

Some years I walked the islands, some years I took my blue Landrover with its home made stereo and two cassettes that I bought in Aberdeen, The Smiths, Meat is Murder and Elvis Costello, Almost Blue. I drove around in the simmer dim the grey evening light, eventually knowing both albums by heart. The RAF invited me to their mid-summer beach party, it never got dark and in the morning I was dive bombed by bonxsies, mad sea birds, as I staggered around the landscape looking for fresh water. I fell in a bog again.

I was befriended by people who fed me boiled ham and potatoes, plied me with drink and had me shoot shotguns at empty cans thrown in the air. “Just mind the sheep, lad”. Coming out of the most northerly pub at half past eleven at night with the sun still shining in my eyes I stepped onto a Norwegian Trawler and got caught up in a fight. We sat in the mess as they fought round and round on the tables and each time they came past we clutched our drinks to our chests.

The photography project ran out of steam, my life had changed, I was busy at work, until Lizzie encouraged me to finish it and we travelled back there together to see Up Helly Aa, the ceremonial burning of the Viking longship https://www.uphellyaa.org/ and to show my work in progress to Shetland Arts with a view to exhibiting it. We stayed in Mid Yell in the snow with 125mph winds full of ice. Huge squalls blew in from the ocean flying low, dropping ice into the waves. When we were in Lerwick we were guests of the head of the Jarl squad, the viking leader of Up Helly Aa, a tremendous honour.

In the early morning, whilst he slept, we secretly tried on his Viking gear. I always felt welcome there and people were kind. An exhibition was arranged in Lerwick, British Airways helped me fly it up and then it travelled all over Scotland. I was interviewed by a lovely lady with small round John Lennon Spectacles from Radio Shetland, only problem was I could hardly understand a word she said. The exhibition opening was very well attended from islands far and wide, made more impressive by the fact no one could get back home to their islands until the ferries restarted in the morning. I felt proud when they said I had shown their home to them in a different way.

Text edit: John Coombes Encouragement: Liz Rakusen

[montyrakusen]

Voices in the Wind, the Northern Isles of Shetland Part 1

I awoke one morning in someone else’s flat and I couldn’t remember how I got there. My friend, fellow art student, Ceri Herington Pritchard  https://ceripritchard.com/  decided we should go on an adventure.

"Let's go north" I said, and we did. We decided on Shetland, as it was as far north as we could think of going in the UK. It was October and cold, wintery, and Ceri let all the camping gas escape in Aberdeen before we had even got on the ferry. We didn’t have outdoor clothes like we have today. Ceri had a greatcoat and I had a tank driver's jacket, probably from the Korean war, that I’d stolen from the Combined Cadet Force at school.  

When we arrived in Lerwick we headed north striding out as fast as we could. They were building the Sullom Voe oil terminal and the flat barren wind-swept landscape was dotted with ex red London double decker buses ferrying workers to the construction site, the destination windows read, Moorgate, Archway, Liverpool Street Station and so forth. We walked in a huge cavernous world of clouds coming from Greenland rising in the west and falling in the east with the sun shining through, highlighting the ceiling of our world and at sunset looked like God had appeared. I fell in a bog then it rained and there was freezing fog then I fell in a bog again.

On the 5th of November we were probably two of Europe’s most northerly campers, at the most northerly point of Shetland, a place where giants fought over the love of a mermaid, near the remote island of Muckle Flugga. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muckle_Flugga

Miserable, with teeth chattering and wet feet, I wore all the clothes I possessed and had to get up at 3am to crack the ice off my tent. On another night because of a storm we slept in a cement store hut and upon waking covered in dust looked like ghosts. One night, camped on a windy beach we were kept awake by boulders rolling in the surf. It was always spine chillingly cold and was only relieved by whisky in friendly pubs that felt like someones front room and there was usually a fidler. These experiences only gave me a love for this beautiful and remote place in the middle of the North Sea.

Nowhere is more than a mile from the sea on Northern Shetland and it is almost tree-less. Small crofts are dotted here and there with flapping, coloured, washing drying on lines, fishing boats far out at sea and the smell of burning peat on the wind. In those days the place was littered with abandoned rusting vehicles and the sides of the roads were covered in empty beer cans with the smiling face of Venetia Stevenson looking up at us https://www.cannyscot.com/SweetheartStout.htm, people built walls from un-returnable beer barrels and crofts lay derelict. Later, I believe, a vicar ordered a ship to take all the scrap away. No matter what the weather there was always some hardy soul out in the landscape, a small moving dot in the distance digging the peat, driving the sheep, rowing a boat. If you listened carefully there were voices on the wind.

I loved this wonderful strange place and began to plan a photo documentary. I first returned and shot it in 35mm colour transparency with the hope of printing it up in Ciba Chrome of which I was a big fan. Unfortunately the processing lab put a scratch through every roll of film and in those days it was impossible to retouch.

Each year I would return, shooting medium format black and white first with Hasselblad and then later Rollie 6006/8 and I gradually built up a collection of images searching for the essence of the place. I became friends with people there, the local doctor from Mid Yell and some people who looked after otters. They recognised me in the pubs.

Some years I walked the islands, some years I took my blue Landrover with its home made stereo and two cassettes that I bought in Aberdeen, The Smiths, Meat is Murder and Elvis Costello, Almost Blue. I drove around in the simmer dim the grey evening light, eventually knowing both albums by heart. The RAF invited me to their mid-summer beach party, it never got dark and in the morning I was dive bombed by bonxsies, mad sea birds, as I staggered around the landscape looking for fresh water. I fell in a bog again.

I was befriended by people who fed me boiled ham and potatoes, plied me with drink and had me shoot shotguns at empty cans thrown in the air. “Just mind the sheep, lad”. Coming out of the most northerly pub at half past eleven at night with the sun still shining in my eyes I stepped onto a Norwegian Trawler and got caught up in a fight. We sat in the mess as they fought round and round on the tables and each time they came past we clutched our drinks to our chests.

The photography project ran out of steam, my life had changed, I was busy at work, until Lizzie encouraged me to finish it and we travelled back there together to see Up Helly Aa, the ceremonial burning of the Viking longship https://www.uphellyaa.org/ and to show my work in progress to Shetland Arts with a view to exhibiting it. We stayed in Mid Yell in the snow with 125mph winds full of ice. Huge squalls blew in from the ocean flying low, dropping ice into the waves. When we were in Lerwick we were guests of the head of the Jarl squad, the viking leader of Up Helly Aa, a tremendous honour.

In the early morning, whilst he slept, we secretly tried on his Viking gear. I always felt welcome there and people were kind. An exhibition was arranged in Lerwick, British Airways helped me fly it up and then it travelled all over Scotland. I was interviewed by a lovely lady with small round John Lennon Spectacles from Radio Shetland, only problem was I could hardly understand a word she said. The exhibition opening was very well attended from islands far and wide, made more impressive by the fact no one could get back home to their islands until the ferries restarted in the morning. I felt proud when they said I had shown their home to them in a different way.

Text edit: John Coombes Encouragement: Liz Rakusen

[bamby0304]

The Hart: Chapter One

Summary:  When Lizzie was just a few months old, she lost her father. Fifteen years later she lost her mother, and then her sister. Now in her early twenties Lizzie spends her days and nights hunting things and saving people. When the Winchesters meet the bright eyed and bubbly blonde they don’t realise what they’re in for… and neither does she…

Part Fourteen: Human

Masterlist

Warnings: Violence and death

Bamby

DPOV

Now out of the uniform and back in my normal clothes, I walked around the bank with Ron, moving into an office. "Check behind the desk." I told him as I headed for a door to another office.

I made it one, maybe two steps in, before I heard Ron slip on something. Rushing back in, I found him on the floor by a pile of shape-shifter skin.

He screamed and yelled, scrambling back. "What the hell is that?"

"Oh, great." sighing, I crouched down by the mess. "When it changes form, it sheds its old skin, so now it could be anybody."

"It's so weird." he picked a piece up, sniffing it. "It's robot skin is so lifelike."

"Okay, let's get something straight." I started, my patience gone. "It's not a mandroid. It's a shapeshifter."

"Shapeshifter?"

"Yeah." I gave a short nod. "It's human, more or less. Has human drives. In this case, it's money. But it generates its own skin. They can shape it to match someone else's features. Tall or short, male-"

"So it kills someone and takes their place?"

"Kills or doesn't, I don't think it matters." I answered as I started to search the desk.

"What are you doing?"

Picking up a letter opener, I looked it over and found an engraving that let me know it was made from silver. "Nice. You remember the old werewolf stories? Pretty much came from these guys. Silver is the only thing I've seen that hurts them." I told him, starting for the door. "Come on, Ronald."

As we walked through the halls of the bank, the sound of Ron chuckling had me stop and turn to him. "Are you nuts?"

He shook his head. "That's just it. I'm not nuts. I mean, I was so scared that I was losing my marbles. But this is real. I mean, I was right. Except for the mandroid thing. Thank you."

"Yeah, don't mention it." I continued for the vault again.

That's when the power shut off and the emergency light flicked on.

"Damn it. No, no, no."

"What? What is it?"

"They cut the power. It's their way of saying hi." I explained.

"Who?"

"The cops."

"The cops?"

"You weren't exactly a smooth criminal about this. You didn't even secure the security guard. He probably called them."

"I didn't think to-"

"Hang on, hang on, hang on. Let's just take a breath for a second, all right?" I sighed, looking to the high windows. "They probably got us surrounded. They cut the power to the cameras. No way of telling who the shape-shifter it. It's not looking good, Ron."

The last thing we needed was the cops to figure out Sam and I were here. I was still wanted for murder.

Liz was fine, as far as we knew. No one had seen her with us, so she was safe. But Sam? Everyone knew he was my brother, and never too far from me. So if either one of us were caught, things would not end well.

An unknown sound come from somewhere in the bank that wasn't by the vault.

I turned back to Ron again. "Did you here that?"

EPOV

"Has your brother always been so, um, wonderful?" Sherri- the woman who'd first started talking once we were locked up- hadn't stopped talking. It was irritating the hell out of me. "I mean, staring down that gun. And the way he played into that psycho's crazy head, telling him what he wanted to hear? He's like a real hero or something."

"Yeah." Sam smiled, entertaining her just to keep her calm. "Yeah."

The door began to open.

Sherri's face lit up at the sight of Dean. "Oh, my God. You saved us! You saved us!"

"Actually, I just found a few more." Dean shrugged. The gun in his hand did not go unnoticed. "Come on, everybody, let's go. Let's go." he ushered more people into the vault.

"What are you doing?"

Ignoring Sherri, Dean nodded to Sam and I. "Ronald and I need to talk to you two."

"Sure." I couldn't help a small grin slip on to my lips. The look on Sherri's face was enough for me to feel ten times better about the situation.

Walking out of the vault, right behind Sam, my eyes locked on to Dean.

After listening to Sherri go on and on. After watching him flirt with woman after woman. With every one-night stand he and I had with other people. After the taste I'd gotten a few weeks ago. After the frustrating attraction I'd been fighting off for months. I made a conscious decision right then and there. I wanted him and I was going to have him.

"It shed its skin again. We don't know when. It could be in the halls, could be in the vault." Dean explained, and urgency in his voice.

"Great." Sam sighed. "You know, Dean, you are wanted by the police."

Dean grinned as if he were impressed or amused by that fact. "Yeah."

Sam shook his head. "So even if we find the damn thing, how the hell are we gonna get out of here?"

Dean's grin fell. "One problem at a time. All right, Liz and I will do a sweep of the whole place, find any stragglers. Once we get everyone together, we play a little game of Find the Freaks. So here." he pulled out two silver letter openers. "I found these for the two of you."

I shook my head, reaching into my bra and pulling out my own silver blade. "I'm already covered."

"You sneaky..." Dean was amused, a smirk playing on his lips. "That's why you threatened the guy who frisked you."

"No. I threatened him because I didn't want to be groped." I corrected him.

Turning back to Sam, he got back to business. "Now stay here, make sure Ronald doesn't hurt anybody. Help him manage the situation."

"Help him manage?" Sam was not happy. "Are you insane?"

Dean gave Ron two thumbs up to let him know everything was okay before he spoke to Sam again, his voice hushed. "Look, I know this isn't going the way we wanted."

"Understatement!"

"But if we let the cops in now, Ronald gets arrested, we get arrested." Dean gestured to himself and Sam. "The shifter gets away. Probably never find it again, okay?"

Instead of responding, Sam gestured to Ron.

Dean and I turned, seeing Ronald standing in the light coming in from outside.

"Ron." Dean called, getting his attention. "Out of the light."

"Seriously?" I'll repeat... Sam was not happy.

Shaking my head, I stepped forward. "Okay, so his plan wasn't the best. It's insane. But right now, it's what we've got to work with. So, please, just keep everyone safe and alive."

Looking from Dean to me, Sam slowly nodded. "Fine."

"All right. Let's go." Dean nudged me.

Before walking off, I offered Sam and gentle smile. "Thank you." as I began to follow Dean, I gave Ron and small wave- which he blushed at- before my attention was focused on the task at hand.

DPOV

Walking through the halls, Liz and I stayed out of the light, sticking the walls and shadows when we could, searching for any more people, while also looking for the shifter.

"Stay close."

"Sing me a new song." Liz rolled her eyes at me.

If someone asked me why I took her with me and not Sam, I would probably tell them it's because I knew Ron would be more cautious with someone he doesn't like and Sam would be able to handle any problem. But in reality, I knew things would have been fine if it was Liz watching the vault.

Truth is, I just enjoyed her company. Comments like that amused me. She laughed at most of my jokes. She was one surprise after another. She was a great hunter- one of the few Sam and I could actually work with.

Then there was the look she'd given me when she exited the vault. It was like something had clicked. She went from looking at me with slight uncertainty, to looking at me with determination. I wasn't sure what that meant, but I wanted to find out.

SPOV

I pulled open the vault door. "I'm gonna keep this open, get you folks some fresh air in there, all right. But no one leaves the vault."

As I finished my sentence, a phone began to ring.

"I don't understand." Sherri stepped up. "Why are you helping him?"

I gave her a short shrug. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Hello?" Ron answered the phone.

"I think I gotta get out of here." an elderly man spoke up from inside the vault. It was the security guard.

Shaking my head, I stood my ground. "Sir, I'm sorry but you gotta stay put."

"What? What do you mean, demands?" Ronald was speaking to the cops. Great.

"Ronald. Hang up."

"I'm not a bank robber."

The old man spoke again. "I gotta get out of here."

"Sir, you can't leave." I told him."

Ron wasn't hanging up the damn phone. "I'm a crime fighter, I guess."

"Ronald!" I snapped, patience running thin. This whole situation was getting out of hand fast.

He continued to ignore me. "No, I'm acting alone."

That's it. I stepped up to the phone and hung it up. "Ronald? The less the cops know, the better."

"Hey, I think this dude's having a heart attack." someone called form inside the vault.

"Great." I sighed. "Could be our guy, could be a trick."

"Are you just gonna let the man die?" the same person called again.

"No one's dying in here." I countered, snapping more than I probably should have. "Cover the door." I ordered Ron before picking up the phone and dialing the police.

Once I told them I was in the bank and needed to speak with an officer, they put me through to a guy. He'd been talking to Ron, so figured I wasn't a 'robber' and started asking me questions in the hopes I would help him.

"Can you tell me how many hostages this guys got?"

"Look, one could be having heart trouble. You need to send in a paramedic."

"Just stay calm, we'll have you out-"

"Just send in a paramedic, okay? Don't try anything else." I snapped, quickly adding, "Please." then I hung up.

"Paramedic?" the guy form inside the vault, helping the old man, spoke up again. "Guy don't have time, man."

"Listen, I'm sorry. Okay? I am." Ron started. "But nobody's getting out."

The man just shook his head at Ronald. "He's dying right in front of you!"

EPOV

Dean and I had searched nearly all the rooms, when he noticed something was wrong with the ceiling in one of them. One of the squares was out of place...

"Here, hold this." he handed me the torch. Grabbing a coat stand that sat in the corner, he then pushed it against the square.

I stepped a little closer, shining the torch into the small space he'd created, trying to see what was inside. It was a mistake I regret making.

With a harder push and shove, Dean moved something inside the roof which then fell through, landing on top of me, hard and heavy. I fell to the ground, the weight of whatever it was knocking my feet from under me.

"What the-" I cut myself short as I looked at the body on top of me. "Get it off!"

Dean acted quickly, lifting the body and rolling it off me. As he did, he rolled it so its face was up, revealing someone I recognised. This guy was naked, his throat cut, but I had no doubt in my mind that I'd seen him before, which meant we now knew who the shifter was.

"Dean... This guy is in the vault."

DPOV

I headed for while Liz walked up to the vault to make sure the guy was still in there.

"Hey, what's up?" Sam asked, confused. The look my face must have told him something was up.

"We found a body." I looked past Liz and Ronald, my eyes landing on the shifter. "It's the guy with the guard."

Sam nodded, turning to Ron. "You know, Ronald, he's right. We gotta get this man outside. Come on." he walked into the vault, grabbing the old man.

"Yeah, I'll help." the shifter offered.

Sam just shook his head. "Oh, I got him. It's cool. Thanks." he helped the old man out, heading for the bank's exit.

I stepped up to Liz, both of us standing in the vault doorway. "Hey, can we talk to you for a second?" I asked the shifter, needing to draw it out.

It scoffed. "You got the gun, man. I mean, whatever." it joined us out of the vault.

The next thing I knew, it lashed out at me, knocking the gun from my hand. It pushed Liz away, knocking her against the wall, and kicked me against the vault door. Then it was off, running away.

"Stop, come back here!" Ron ran after the shifter.

"Dean." Liz scrambled to her feet, offering me a hand. "Come on, we gotta go."

Once I was standing again, we hurried to catch up, needing to get to the shifter before it changes again. Things were already bad enough with the body count piling up. Any more dead people, and this was not going to end well. The cops thought I was a murdered, they probably start think Sam is too.

As we ran into the main room of the bank, we came to a stop as everything happened at once.

"Get down, now!" Sam yelled.

The sound of a gunshot went off.

Ron fell to the ground.

I grabbed Liz, pushing her into the corner and on the ground, behind a counter, keeping myself in front of her protectively as Ron bled to death right in front of us.

"Oh, my God." Liz was shaking.

"Don't look." I turned to her. "Elizabeth." I cupped her cheek, turning her face to look at me. "Don't look, okay. Just look at me."

She may be a hunter. She may have seen some horrible things, done some pretty messed up stuff herself. But reality could sometimes be more frightening than the crap we dealt with. Someone getting shot- a human getting shot by another human... It was like a slap to the face with ice-cold water. It made you realize how easy it is to actually die.

Sam came over to us, staying low and out of the light. "Here." he handed me the key to Ron's lock and chain on the front door. "Take care of the guard. I'm going after the shifter." he was gone before I could stop him.

Looking over my shoulder, my eyes landed on Ron before I turned back to Liz. "Stay here. I'll be right back." the moment she nodded, I headed over to Ronald's body, staying low and behind anything that would keep me out of the light. "Sorry, Ron. You did a real good job tracking this thing. You really did." reaching over, I grabbed his dropped gun before leaving him there.

"This will all be over soon." I assured the guard as I lead him to the door of the bank. "Everything's gonna be all right."

I could see lights flashing outside, police cars, the light of a helicopter... They had the whole shebang out for us.

As the old man pushed the door open, he called out to the cops. "Hey, don't shoot! Don't shoot, please."

As the officers cocked their guns, I pressed my gun against the old man's back. "No, no, no. Back up. Don't even think about it."

"Please don't shoot." the guard raised his hands.

Looking around now, I could see more. I could see the full extent of the trouble we were in.

More police than I could count. News reporters and civilians behind the police tape, a safe distance away. Cameras flashing, people yelling. Guns, riot gear. Snipers and S.W.A.T. It was worse than I first thought.

"Son of a bitch..."

Some officers started to move in, pulling my attention to them.

"I said get back, now!" I pushed at the old me. "Okay. Go, go."

The moment he was gone, I stepped back inside, closing the door behind me before rushing to close and chain up the next door.

"We are so screwed."

EPOV

Dean came rushing over to where I was still sitting in a corner. My shock was basically gone, I could have moved. But he'd told me to stay, so I had.

He held his phone to his ear. "What?" he paused before sighing, running a hand over his face. "God, it's like playing a shell game. It could be anybody, again."

"Dean?"

He looked down at me, getting to his knees as he continued to talk into the phone. "All right, you search every inch of this place. Liz and I will round everybody up." he said before hanging up the phone and turning to me. "Everyone got out of the vault, the shifter changed again, and I'm pretty sure my face is now all over the news."

"Shit."

He nodded. "Yeah, things aren't looking too good." his face softened slightly as he looked me over. "How about you? You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't have to-"

"I said, I'm fine, Dean." I insisted, getting to my feet. "Now, let's go. We've got work to do."

DPOV

Liz ushered the hostages back into the vault. "Everything's gonna be all right. This will all be over soon." she assured them as a phone began to ring.

I stepped up to it, answering it cautiously. "Yeah."

"This is Special Agent Victor Henriksen."

"Yeah, listen, I'm not really in the negotiating mood right now." I told him as Liz closed the vault door.

"Good, me neither. It's my job to bring you in. Alive's a bonus, but not necessary."

"Whoa, that's kinda harsh for a federal agent, don't you think?"

"Well, you're not the typical suspect, are you, Dean?" I froze as he went on. "I want you and Sam out here, unarmed. Or we come in. And yes, I know about Sam too. Bonnie to your Clyde."

I collected myself, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, well, that part's true. But how'd you even know we were here?"

"Go screw yourself. That's how I knew. It's become my job to know about you, Dean. I've been looking for you for weeks now. I know about the murder in St. Louis, the Houdini act you pulled in Baltimore. I know about the desecrations, the thefts. I know about you dad." that struck a nerve.

"You don't know crap about my dad."

"Ex-Marine, raised his kids on the road. Cheap motels, backwoods cabins. Real paramilitary survivalist type. I just can't get a handle on what type of whacko he was. White supremacist, Timmy McVaigh, tomato, tom-ar-to."

"You got no right talking about my dad like that." there was a grin on my face, but I was not amused. "He was a hero."

"Yeah. Right. Sure sounds like it. You have one hour to make a decision or we come through those doors, full automatic." he didn't wait for a response before hanging up.

I slammed the phone back into place.

"Dean?" turning to Liz I could see the concern in her eyes as she stepped closer to me. "Who was it? What did they say?"

All I could do was shake my head and sigh. "I am so screwed, Liz."

EPOV

"We got a bit of a problem outside." Dean spoke. I turned to see that he was talking to Sam, who'd just entered the room.

"We got a problem in here." Sam gestured to the vault door. "The shifter, it turned into Sherri. I found her body."

This piqued my interest. "Sherri? The woman who'd been going on about Dean?"

Sam simply nodded.

Not needing anything else said, I turned and opened the door to the vault. "Sherri? We're gonna let you go."

She looked at me confused. "What? Why me?"

"As a show of good faith to the feds." Dean answered from behind me. "Come on."

But she didn't move. Her eyes landed on the gun in Dean's hand and the silver blade sticking out of my pocket. "Ah... I think I'd rather stay here with the others." she stepped further into the vault.

I wasn't going to take no for an answer. "It's not an option, sweetheart."

Hesitating a moment longer, she eventually nodded and moved towards Dean and me. Once she was out, we closed the door to the vault, and grabbed her, following Sam as he led us to the body.

Sherri struggled against Dean's hold. "I thought you were letting me go."

Instead of answering, Dean turned her so she could face the body identical to hers which lay on the floor of an office dead.

After a moment, the fact she was looking at a dead body that looked like her seemed to register. She began to scream and struggle more, unable to look away from the body but desperately wanting to.

"Is that community theater or are you naturally like this?" Dean asked her, letting her arm go seeing as I stood in front of the only exit out of the room.

Sam pulled out the silver letter opener Dean had given him. "This is the last time you become anybody. Ever." he told her as he lifted his hand to stab her.

"No. Oh, God." she let out a sigh and fell.

"What the...?" I looked down at her confused.

Dean shrugged, looking from the dead Sherri to the unconscious one. Making up his mind, her crouched down by the unconscious one and lifted his own letter opener, ready to kill.

"Dean, wait." Sam stopped him. "What's the advantage of this plan? I mean, fainting now wouldn't help it survive." he had a good point.

Turning away from the fainted Sherri, Dean looked to the 'dead' Sherri. "Huh..." getting up, her moved over to the 'dead' Sherri and knelt by her.

A crash caught his and Sam's attention, causing them to look away, but I kept my attention on the body by Dean. That's when I could see it's chest moving ever so slightly. It was breathing.

"Dean!" I hurried over, pushing him out of the way just as the shifter went to grab him. As a result, it grabbed me instead, it's hand wrapping around my throat.

At the same time, the real Sherri woke up and began to scream. "Oh, God! Oh, God!"

Sam tried to deal with Sherri, while Dean moved to help me with the shifter. It threw me away and turned to him, grabbing his wrist before he could stab it. It kicked at him and rolled them over so it was on top.

Getting to my feet, I pulled out my blade and reached for the shifter's hair, pulling it back and lining up the point of my weapon to its throat. I was about an inch from getting it, when the thing turned, pushed me to the ground, and smashed my head against the ground all in a matter of seconds. Neither Dean or I had a chance to react.

Then it was up, making a break for it.

DPOV

Liz and I were looking for the shifter, sticking together as we walked around the bank. The thing could be anywhere. Hell, it could be anyone. It was fast, and strong. Things weren't looking too good.

The sound of someone heading our way had me look down a hall in time to see the ends of guns about to round the corner. The cops were inside.

Grabbing Liz, I rushed us to the next corner and pushed us behind it, using my body to cover hers as I listened out for the feds as they got closer.

Leaning closer, Liz whispered in my ear. "Follow me." she pulled me back and slipped her hand in mine before dashing into the shadows, taking us away from the cops.

Once we were at a safe distance, we slowed our pace a little, her hand slipping out of mine as we continued our search. Though now that we knew the feds were inside, we were going to have to be more careful.

"We should split up." she suggested.

I didn't even have to think about it. "No." reaching for a storage room door, I took a look inside. "This thing is strong, and fast. It'll be better if-"

The sound of a grunt had me turn to see Liz and the shifter fighting, and it wasn't looking good.

I jumped in, the two of us circling the shifter, throwing a punch when we could, trying to keep it on its toes to find an opening. The thing kicked out at Liz, pushed her against the wall. It took this as my chance and went to make a move.

As I went to punch it, it grabbed my arm, locking it between its side and arm as it's other hand went from my throat. I head-butted it a few times, keeping it at bay until it stumbled back and into Liz.

Liz was ready. She put the thing in a head lock before reaching around and stabbing it in the chest with her blade. Letting it go, she stepped away as the shifter's body fell to the ground, dead.

"Wow..." I looked her up and down.

She was a little out of breath as she wiped some sweat from her forehead. "Impressed?"

Grinning, I gave her a short nod. "You could say that."

"Like I've told you a million times, Winchester, I'm perfectly capable." reaching down, she pulled her blade out of the shifter's chest.

A flashlight turned on, aimed at us.

Liz and I both turned, ready to fight if we had to. But instead of a fed standing behind us, it was Sam... Dressed in a SWAT uniform while carrying two others on his shoulder.

"Here." he tossed the spare uniforms on the ground in front of us. "You're gonna need these."

EPOV

I slid into the back of the Impala, pulling of the SWAT helmet and mask I'd put on, dumping them on the floor by my feet. My body ached, my mind was reeling. I was covered in sweat. I hadn't slept since we started this case.

But despite all that, I was completely aware of the trouble we were now in. The feds had been after Dean before, now they were after Sam. It would only be a matter of time before they'd come looking for me too...

Dean shook his head. "We are so screwed."

Bamby

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