#me instantly. i wasn’t even in a car. i was in the safety of my room

[fizzytoo]

i need to see someone about this driving anxiety. it’s starting to get worse and it’s really effecting my life

[rinhaler]

We Groove and We Dance

CHAPTER SUMMARY: After Megumi destroyed your art coursework, you decide to skip class the following day and start fresh. But Yuuji invites you to a paint party you can't resist. Hopefully nothing goes wrong!

boyfriend!yuuji itadori x f!reader x bully!megumi fushiguro

WARNINGS : 18+, dubcon/noncon, consensual dry humping, bullying, fingering, drugging, choking, degradation, bladder failure (NOT piss kink), vomiting, marking??? clubbing, choking.

WORDS : 5.7k

notes : damn megumi's kind of a dick huh asdfghjhgf

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You didn’t dare utter a word when you got into Yuuji’s car. It was just as well, really, because he kept blathering on about his class. Apparently one of his classmates took a huge fall while jumping hurdles. It was embarrassing for the boy, but hilarious for all of those who witnessed.

Normally you’d be laughing with Yuuji. His laugh is so contagious, and his smile is the type that could make you smile too, no matter how upset or angry you were. But not today. Today your heart is thumping, if not for the music Yuuji is blaring in the car, you’re certain he would have heard the sound of your vital organ pounding against your ribcage. Your eyes are hollow. All you could do was face forward out of the front window and hope to get home as soon as possible. You keep replaying the moment that made you temporarily mute over and over in your mind. That wasn’t you. You’ve never felt that way before. Pure, unadulterated hatred. The way you destroyed Megumi’s sketchbook wasn’t normal. The insane laughter that followed wasn’t normal either. It’s like he broke you. Is that his plan?

Is Megumi Fushiguro trying to break you?

The first word you spoke to Yuuji since you stepped into his car was a sharp ‘no!’ after he asked if you wanted to get a McDonald’s before you headed home.

All you want is the comfort and safety of your house. You want to lock yourself away and forget every single thing that happened today.

As soon as you step foot inside, you slam the door behind you and lock it instantly. Your boyfriend turns to face you with a raised brow, he knows something is going on and he isn’t the type to ignore his intuition. But instead of questioning you, he pulls you closer to him by your wrist and gently kissed at your neck. His sweet lips were tickling you and even in your terrified state you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Do you wanna talk about it baby?” he asks you.

“I don’t think I should…” you whimper, nuzzling yourself into his chest.

He squeezes you tighter, closer to his body. Repeatedly smothering the crown of your head in quick, loving kisses.

“Do you wanna sit on my face while you talk about it?” he teases, kissing you again as he waited for your answer. You’re pretty sure it was a joke, but you know how much Yuuji loves eating you out, so if you actually wanted to do that, he’d be more than happy to oblige. You softly push him away and fake-punch his arm.

“Not today.” you speak, turning away from him to go into your bedroom.

What you do want, is a nap.

You don’t even have the energy to put any pyjamas on. After getting yourself down to your panties and bare chest, you collapse on top of your mattress and curl into a ball. Yuuji follows you into the bedroom, he didn’t pressure you to talk, but he rests his hand on your shoulder as your body rises and falls while you sob silently.

“I hate seeing you like this, try and get some sleep. Okay?” he tells you, you can’t answer with words. But you nod in agreement. “Do you want me to get you anything?” he wonders. You shake your head in response. He leans over to kiss your cheek. He stays with you for a while, until he's sure you’ve drifted off. It didn’t take too long for the pressure of the day and your crying to knock you out into a heavy nap.

You needed this.

You really needed this.

Three hours.

You napped for three hours.

You wake up at 8pm, confused and agitated. You were slightly irritated that Yuuji didn’t wake you, because you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight now that you’ve slept to such a ridiculous time. When you get out of bed, you pull on one of Yuuji’s old t-shirts and leave your room to find him.

But you can’t be mad.

You couldn’t be mad at him after you told him you didn’t need anything, but he went to the store anyway. He was sitting comfortably on the sofa, eyes drooped, clearly bored of whatever he is watching on the TV. In front of him is a spread-out selection of chocolate, crisps, biscuits and gummy sweets. His eyes widen when he notices you, and that trademark smile of his sprawls across his face.

“I didn’t know what to get, so I got all of your favourites.” he tells you as he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Tears began to prick at your eyes. It had been a hard, draining day. And yet, even without telling him a single thing he managed to brighten your mood. “I rented The Shining too, it’s your favourite right?”

“Right.” you earnestly smile, completely touched that he went to so much effort for you.

“Even though you get scared every single time we’ve watched it together.” he taunts playfully, he begins to pat the space beside him on the sofa inviting you to sit down.

“Don’t poke fun, it’s not my fault Jack Nicholson is such a convincing actor! He’s amazing and—”

“Yeah yeah, save it for the movie princess. You can do your own commentary you’ve seen it so many times.” he interrupts before you could finish your sentence. He was right though. You could talk about the film the entire time about what you like about it and little tidbits you knew.

And he’d let you.

He’d let you and he’d smile while you did it.

The amount of snacks you consumed is criminal. You actually think you might die or explode at any minute. Yuuji ate even more than you did, and you couldn’t believe he was fine. You don’t know where he puts it, you’d be impressed if you didn’t feel so violently sick from over consumption. The movie ends, but you couldn’t be bothered to move from your cosy spot. You’d gotten yourself comfortable, nestled into Yuuji’s chest while he held an arm around you.

A squeal rips from your chest as Yuuji picks you up in his arms bridal style. You forget how strong he is. The way he holds you makes you feel like you weigh nothing at all. It was disappointing that he didn’t carry you all of the way to bed. Instead, he dropped you off in the bathroom. He wetted your toothbrush for you and put on some toothpaste before he did the same for himself. You were grateful, because of the lack of energy you had you knew you wouldn’t have done it otherwise. You’re looking at each other as you brush in the mirror above the sink. Foam forming in both of your mouths. After you both spit, he pokes harshly at your chest. You pull the fabric assuming he means you dribbled a bit. But when you’re at your most vulnerable he takes the opportunity to lift his finger and flick your nose. You try to begin playfighting with him; but he instantly grabs your wrists and throws you over his shoulder.

“Nice try.” he laughs.

Yuuji opens the bedroom window as far as it’ll go before turning on the fan he bought for the room. The heat is unbearable, and the fact you were both full of food wasn’t helping matters either. He lay on his back while you turn away from him facing the window. He slips a hand up the back of your shirt and began to delicately trace with his fingers, knowing the tickling sensation helps you sleep.

You pluck up the courage to tell Yuuji an idea you’ve had before you drift off to sleep for the night.

“I’m not going to uni tomorrow.” you tell him bluntly.

There’s an uncomfortable silence. It’s a beat of silence that’s somehow filled with a boisterous amount of noise that makes your stomach churn. There’s not a word spoken. But you can hear the irritation in your boyfriend’s throat as he coughs to clear it. You can feel the way his relaxed face tenses and contracts as a scowl forms. It’s impossible to miss the furrowing of his brows, the squinting of his eyes or the clenching of his teeth.

“Fushiguro said something to you, didn’t he?” he almost grunts.

It's so easy to love Yuuji. It's so easy to be hopelessly in love with him, because he just knows you. It’s not even been a year since you began dating but he can read you like a book. You should have known, really, because he’s always like this. He knows how to read between the lines and know exactly what you mean. Anyone else would assume you were just skipping, taking some personal time off to be lazy and lounge around. But not Yuuji. Because he really knows you. He knows that you don’t take time off unless you absolutely have to. He had to battle with you to stay home around Christmas time when you caught a winter cold.

So what other reason would you want to stay home other than Megumi Fushiguro?

“Tell me what he said.” he demands. You could feel him burning holes into the back of your head as he awaits an answer.

“He didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me. Don’t cover for him. You need to tell me, now.” he says as his volume increased. It scares you a little. He’s never been angry with you before, so he’s never had any reason to raise his voice or yell. But you know he isn’t angry with you, he’s angry at him.

“Please. Yuuji please I don’t want to talk about it. I promise he didn’t do anything I just,” you pause, feeling the tears well in your eyes again while you thought about it. You couldn’t stand Megumi. You couldn’t stand that he was making you lie to your boyfriend for the first time ever. It wasn’t like you were planning on keeping it to yourself forever. You just needed a plan. You needed time to think. “It wasn’t his fault, really, it was mine. He was showing me some ink and I spilled it all over my sketchbook and ruined everything. I’m just a little stressed since I’m gonna have to start all over. I just… I need tomorrow to myself to try and make a new body of work.”

He's silent again. You can hear him breathing heavily, he’d wound himself up thinking about Megumi upsetting you. He's trying to steel himself so he doesn’t snap. His resolve and agitation crumble when you rolled over to face him. Your big teary doe eyes staring up at him so innocently, he couldn’t stay mad when you were like this.

“I know you’re lying to me.” he speaks.

“’m not!”

“Stop it,” he snaps a little, shutting his eyes to compose himself again. “I’m not gonna pressure you to talk to me. If you’re hellbent on covering for him that’s on you. Take the day off, I’ll keep out of his way. But please, please baby, talk to me and tell the truth when you’re ready.” he tells you.

It broke your heart a little when he rolled away from you. In the nine months you’ve been together, he’s never forgotten to kiss you goodnight. He wasn’t forgetting to do it now. He wasn’t kissing you on purpose.

He really is mad at you.

“… Yuuji, I love you.”

“I love you.”

It still stung how your night ended with Yuuji. It was killing you knowing that you really had upset him and made him so cross with you.

You wake up at 6am, your jagged sleep from your ill-timed nap made you groggy and exhausted. When your eyes open, you turn to see Yuuji with his arm wrapped around your waist. Like he couldn’t resist you.

You free yourself from his hold, leaving the bedroom and heading for the kitchen to get yourself some breakfast. You didn’t have the energy to find something to watch while you scarf down your cereal, so you turn on the first morning breakfast show you came across. You don’t care about a single thing they're talking about; it's like white noise while you crunch away.

You wash your bowl when you finished, instantly finding a new sketchbook in the cupboard you bought for your next project. You’d have to remember to buy another new one for next semester. You're exhausted, completely drained and miserable. Anything you produce will probably pale in comparison to your original book, but there's no time to waste and you need a head start on your absent day.

Yuuji got up two hours later. Lazily wandering around as he dresses himself and gathers everything he needs for his class. He says a quick goodbye before grabbing onto the door handle to leave.

“Don’t I get a kiss?” you ask. You feel absolutely pathetic. You never thought you’d be the type of girl to be so needy and crave validation from your partner. But he’s never been like this with you before. He’s always been so affectionate and loving with you, so this new side of him made you insecure and uncomfortable.

But ever the perfect boyfriend, he approaches you to give you the kiss you so desperately desire. It's quick with not much passion behind it. He gives you a half-hearted smile before getting up to leave again.

“I love you.” you tell him.

He halts his actions when he hears your voice break. Tears threatening to break free from your eyes yet again. He comes back closer to you, giving you a romantic, passionate kiss against your yearning lips. Yuuji pulls away to kiss your forehead, before looking intently into your sodden eyes.

“Baby. I love you. So. Much.” he insists, it's all he needs to say to reassure you. Your heart pounds as the tears break free from your eyes. It's a relief. He waves goodbye before he finally leaves.

You have the whole entire day to yourself. And you're spending every single hour from now until bedtime painting and getting your sketchbook up to scratch. And now that Yuuji isn’t mad (or at least as mad) at you anymore, you feel confident you can do this.

When 2pm comes around, you feel ravenous. The hunger pangs you’ve been furiously trying to ignore are becoming unbearable. You ordered takeout so that you wouldn’t have to waste time cooking that you could be spending painting. You were working up to the very last minute until the doorbell rang. You hold your paintbrush between your teeth as you answer, warranting a very awkward look from the delivery boy. You kick the door closed with the back of your foot, instantly diving into the pizza box to satiate your starvation.

You moan loudly as soon as the dough and cheese combination hit your tongue, the taste makes you consider whether you prefer the flavour of the food or sex with your boyfriend.

It's a consideration you’d be keeping to yourself.

– ping –

You just about die when the notification comes through on your phone. It's only a text from Yuuji. You open it quickly, it's a link to a Facebook event. It was bright and colourful, quite contrasting to the club it was associated with.

PAINT PARTY @ INDEPENDENT

­You scroll down to see that Yuuji has added both of your names to the guest list.

YUUJI: I know ur busy with ur coursework, but maybe? It’s tonight only. x

You don’t reply instantly. It’s been a while since you’ve been to Independent, or Indie as it’s more commonly known amongst students. It’s your favourite club. It’s a little dingy but it’s huge and the drinks are cheap. It’s favoured amongst students since the first and second floors have different vibes. The main room downstairs plays old school R&B and hip-hop, whereas upstairs has a smaller room that plays indie music. They have a special blue and pink drink you can’t get anywhere else. You know a girl who has the signature drink tattooed on her body, so she gets free entry for life. Your phone pings again when you take a little while to reply.

YUUJI: We don’t have to go. But it’s been a while since we went, and we always have fun! x

YOU: No ur right. Lets go!! xx🥰

It’s embarrassing to be honest, how quickly your determined resolve crumbles. You internally mock yourself as you get ready for the paint party.

'I’m gonna work all day until bedtime.' Pfft.

You decide to slick your hair back, it’s glamourous and easy which is best since it’ll likely be covered in paint before the nights out.

You hear the door slam and Yuuji instantly rushes towards the bathroom. He slams the door after himself, but rushes instantly back out to come and greet you.

“Hi,” he kisses your cheek, panting from being so energetic around the house. “this came for you, looks like it’s from your parents.” he tells you, dropping a letter in front of you before rushing back to the bathroom.

Your vision drops to the letter in front of you. It’s got your mother’s dainty elegant handwriting on the front and your stomach churns as you flip to see a gorgeous pink wax seal with your family crest on the front.

Not today. This is a problem for tomorrow me.

Once you’ve finished with your hair, you apply a quick helping of gloss and other finishing touches to your makeup. You opt to don a pair of old jeans and a plain white t-shirt. You’re not willing to sacrifice your gorgeous wardrobe for the sake of a paint party. Part of you worries that you’ll look out of place and like you haven’t made an effort, but you’re sure everyone else attending will likely have had the same idea.

Yuuji steps out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist and abs glistening from the water trickling down his body. Your heart is pounding. He looks good enough to eat and he smirks when he clocks that you’re ogling him. You get out of your dressing table seat and approach him. He’s wise to you though, because as soon as you reach to unravel his towel, he grabs your wrist and tuts.

“I just showered princess.”

“But—”

“You’re so cute when you’re needy. Are you wet? Look at ya, squirming around like that f’me.” he continues to tease, pushing you backwards so you fall backwards onto the bed with him on top of you. Both of your hands are pinned above your head with one of his. Your chest is heaving. You need him. And you need him now.

You start to grind on his thigh slowly, trying to ease the tension building between your thighs. A cheeky grin finds it’s way on his face as he’s amused by how desperate you’re acting, your cunt longing to feel him inside of you. He starts to move his thigh to help you, but stops as soon as he starts, knowing that you shouldn’t

“Please, Yuuji please. Just a quickie, I’ll do the work.” you beg pitifully, bucking your hips quicker so you gain some more friction against your core.

“No baby. Maybe when we get home,” he said with a wicked smile on his face, “we always have great drunk sex, don’t we?”

There’s a line outside of the club as you step out of the cab. But that is the line for people who came to the club without putting their names on the Facebook guest list. Yuuji takes your hand as he guides you up to the stamp lady sitting in the booth, telling her both of your names. He’s such a gentleman, he even pays the fee for the pair of you to get in. She instantly finds you both and stamps your hands so you can go inside. Your eyes glimmer as both yours and Yuji’s white t-shirts illuminate under the UV lights once you get inside.

He noticed you were feeling a little insecure over your outfit choice, so he copied you.

White t-shirt and jeans.

You needn’t have worried though, your suspicions were correct. Everyone else in the club seems to have a similar idea to dress simpler rather than going all out. Some people were dressed more scantily than others, but it was all in good fun.

There are members of staff on the balconies above your head. They have enormous plastic guns in their hands that they're shooting down into the crowd. The bright colours make instant contact with you and your boyfriend, and he turns to face you when he hears you squeal and laugh over the pounding bass.

“Let’s get a drink.” he shouts in your ear so that you could hear him. You nod as you let him lead you through the crowd and to the bar.

The bar area is a lot more deserted. There are a few groups sitting in booths and others on bar stools waiting for their drinks. You order the pink and blue special, while Yuuji opted to get himself a bottle of beer.

You’re sure he’ll be switching to pints later as the night goes on.

You notice an odd-looking boy with black hair approach your partner. He taps him on the shoulder, but Yuuji doesn’t notice. You tap him instead, and when he faces you, you nod in the direction of the boy.

“Junpei!” your boyfriend exclaims as he engulfs his friend in a hug. They exchange pleasantries and Yuuji introduces you to his friend. “I didn’t think this was your thing Junpei, nice to see ya.” he smiles happily.

“I got invited and saw your name on the guest list and thought why not! It’s been a while.” he explains.

You’re told that they were friends in high school, but Junpei went to a different university to study psychology. You stand up to leave, telling Yuuji you need the bathroom.

“I’ll come with you.” he says as he stands up to follow you, but you stop him.

“I’ll be fine Yuuji! Junpei, keep him out of trouble while I’m gone.” you joke, making everyone smile hard enough to form apples in their cheeks.

You wade through the crowds again, getting doused in paint as you do. All of the colours and mess are so pretty, the people in the crowd look amazing and it’s making you so giddy to be part of such an electric atmosphere.

When you reach the top of the stairs, your heart stops as you see a familiar head of uncontrollable black hair outside of the toilets. You’re instantly regretting not telling Yuuji to accompany you.

It’s Fushiguro.

He’s got a girl pinned against the wall, his face is covering hers, but you can hear her moaning. You realise outside of his pretty exterior he has no class or manners, which you probably should have known sooner. But seeing him publicly finger a girl outside of some club toilets is the icing on the cake.

She’s insatiable, her fingers don’t know where to settle. You see them travel through his hair, on his arm, his waist. She’s got to be faking it. She’s being impossibly loud and irritating. You attempt to back away slowly, before he can notice you. But the fraction of a second he decides to observe his surroundings, he sees you. He whispers something in the girls ear before she rushes away down the other side of the corridor. He sticks his two fingers in his mouth and sensually sucks the strangers juices as he approaches you. You try to turn and run but he’s faster than you. Grabbing your wrist with his free hand and slamming you against the wall.

He hikes up your leg to rest on his hip, and he’s grinding into you with his face burrowed into your neck. Your voice has been stolen from you and you’re frozen once again. You know he’s not trying to seduce you or fuck you. He’s putting on a show for everyone standing close by. Because while people will think you’re a ravenous young couple dry humping in public, while people will think he’s kissing your neck, he’s whispering obscenities in your ear.

“I missed you in class today.” he begins, his left hand travelling to settle on your raised hip. “That was a clever fucking present you left in my sketchbook sweetheart.” he grimaces, clearly losing his cool as he relives the discovery of his ruined art.

“I’m sorr—”

“Shut. Up.” he spits, silencing you completely. “I had you down for a pussy. I didn’t think you’d fight back, and it was only fair after all. An eye for an eye.” he tells you a little more calmly. You’re still terrified. He smiles menacingly when he can feel you trembling under his grip.

“Please let go.” you whimper.

He rests his forehead against yours, his eyes are filled with malice. They’re bloodshot and furious. His smile bares almost every single tooth in his mouth as each corner stretches as close to his ears as possible. He moves both of his hands, wrapping each of them around your neck. And squeezes tight.

“I don’t like playing fair. You cunt. Did you really think I was going to let you get away with that?” he snaps. You were clawing at his hands, but it did no good. Tears began to stream down your face from the lack of oxygen, desperately trying to take some in.

“I can’t- breathe, Meg- umi- can’t,” you struggle, hoping he’d take pity on you. His jaw bubbles slightly as he held eye contact with you, and let you go with a flourish.

You fell to the ground, taking in screeching inhales as you held your tremoring fingers around your swollen throat. Without looking you could already feel the black and blue blemishes discolouring your sensitive neck. He looms over your defenceless frame as you try to recover.

He isn’t smiling.

He isn’t angry.

If not for what he just did, he’d just be Megumi the moody new boy. It was alarming to you how quickly he could turn it on and off. He turns his back to you and heads down the opposite end of the corridor. You take your opportunity to scurry to your feet and rush back to your boyfriend.

The time was creeping up to 2:30am. You managed to calm down before you joined with Yuuji and Junpei so he didn’t suspect a thing.

It's calmer with him, you know you're safe with his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he converses with Junpei and his friends. Your group alternates between going to the dancefloor and getting covered in paint and hanging out in the bar area and enjoying your drinks. Whenever you need the bathroom after your encounter with Megumi you ask Yuuji to escort you. He was a little drunk, but not too out of it to look after you.

Your sides were splitting from laughter while hanging out with Yuuji and his friends all evening. Their humour and the combination of flowing alcohol is almost enough to take your mind off being attacked.

It felt good to forget.

So, you keep drinking more… and more… and more…

“I never thought we’d see the day miss perfect gets drunk.” a friendly feminine voice speaks from the bar stool behind you.

When you turn to face the source, it’s two of your classmates. In particular, the Megumi fan club. You’ve never seen them in a club setting before, it was understandable that they didn’t think you had this side to you. It's almost embarrassing trying to formulate a response for them, you're hiccupping and slurring your words like a fool. But they're bubbly and joyous and make you feel good, you feel welcome in their little group.

You're surprised however since they seemed furious that you dared to befriend their dear Megumi.

“My friend just texted me from the dancefloor, did you know Gojo is here?” you hear Junpei speak from the other side of you. Itadori yells loudly in excitement as you turn to face them. “Shall we go see him?” Junpei follows up.

“Nah,” he tells the group as he squeezes you tighter. “I’ll see him if he comes to get a drink.”

“Y-Yuuji,” you hiccup, “don’t stay because of me, go and see your friend!” you command, not wanting to spoil his evening.

“I’m not leaving you.” he speaks plainly.

“We’ll look after her.” your classmates speak.

You both turn your attention to the girls who were grinning from ear to ear. You smile back at the offer, their smiles feel sincere and you feel safe to stick with them all night while your boyfriend reunites with his friend. But you turn your body back to look at him to gauge his reaction. He’s so loving and protective, you aren’t sure he’s be willing to risk leaving you while you're drunk with two people he doesn’t know.

“Are they friends of yours?” Yuuji asks. You nod quickly.

“They’re in my class.” you almost bark at him in your intoxicated state. He gives them a look. He’s assessing them carefully; you can see the cogs whirring in his mind as he’s debating whether he trusts them enough to leave you in their care.

“Okay,” he speaks before kissing you on the forehead. He looks deeply into your eyes, almost begging you to pay attention and pleading that you’ll process what he’s telling you. “I’ll only be in the room next door. Come and find me if you need me.” he says, a serious look etched on his features.

“I- duh, I will.” You respond almost mockingly. He knows you don’t mean it, you’ve had one too many pink and blue pints.

“Please take care of her. I won’t be long.” he tells them.

You wave goodbye, but you don’t even get the chance to watch him leave as your friends spin your stool around to face the bar. ‘Shots!’ They both scream, ordering a round. They also order you another pink and blue pint to accompany the one you hadn’t finished. You're all laughing and joking. It's nice to bond with more people on your art course, you usually just keep to yourself and do your work, but you're always friendly and approachable whenever anyone speaks to you.

The girls ask you so many questions, taking a genuine interest in you. It's hard to answer in your drunken state of mind, but you do your best. You all connect over stories of your lives. Things like ex-boyfriends and vacation stories, all of which made you laugh and smile. The drinks keep flowing and there's no sign of your boyfriend returning. You're worried he’d panic if you left your spot, but when you all agree that you need a bathroom trip you couldn’t resist.

When you all stand up from the stools, the girls stand on either side of you and take one of your hands. It's so sweet, so you won’t lose each other in the crowd as you try to find your way.

You feel so dizzy, so sick and uncomfortable, you aren’t even sure how you're standing up.

Thankfully your new friends manage to pull you up the stairs and to the girls bathroom. When you enter, the three of you make a beeline for the famed ‘twin toilets’ the girls toilets were known for. It's a cubicle that's double the size of the others, so there's room for a plus one or a plus two for a toilet trip. The blonde girl sat down first, but she was just sitting on the lid. She didn’t pull her panties down to pee, it was like she was just taking a load off her feet.

“How long does it take to work?” the redhead asks her friend while she lords above her.

You lost your balance and fell on your backside. Both of your legs were stretched out in front of you while your back rests on the cubicle wall. Your head slouches forward and you can’t keep your eyes open while you try to focus on not puking.

“Please… please guys I need to—”

You were interrupted with the feeling of warmth travelling through your jeans. You were unable to feel embarrassed as you knew what was happening. But your mind is so completely and utterly fucked you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough.

“Oh my god, it’s working. Did you just piss yourself? Ew…” the blonde asks and giggles, her friend joining in.

You're about to speak, to defend yourself. It was their fault for not letting you go first. But while you try to find the words, vomit escapes you instead. It covered your chin and white t-shirt. You're a pathetic drunken mess covered in paint, pee and sick. The girls were in hysterics at your misfortune.

“Fucking gross. That’s so nasty,” the redhead exclaims, still cackling. “That pill Megumi told us to slip in her drink was really strong, huh.” she muses to her partner in crime as they look down at you.

You lose all ability to be coherent or focused. So, with the final blow of that earth shattering sentence, your eyes close and you fell backwards onto the sticky club toilet floor.

You don’t remember anything after that. You don’t remember the girls cutting open your t-shirt and writing bitch on your chest in blood-red lipstick. You don’t remember them leaving you and shutting the door carefully behind them so no one would notice you. You don’t remember the kind woman who did notice you, helping you up. You don’t remember that same woman and her other friend carrying you through the club while you repeatedly babbled musings of

'Yuuji… Yuuji… Yuuji…'

You don’t remember finally finding him, and him crying out in heartbreak as he saw your miserable beaten frame in the arms of those women. You don’t remember him taking you home in Gojo’s car, the designated driver of his own group he was out partying with.

You don’t remember sleeping for 45 hours straight.

© 2021 fuwushiguro | © 2023 rinhaler

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Safety Measure

A/N- i’m sure i’ve mentioned it beforehand but i live in the midwest and a few weeks ago we were basically in a polar vortex AGAIN 😂 the highs for almost two weeks straight didn’t go over -5 and i nearly got stuck at my boyfriends a handful of times so i got this little idea 🥰

Summary- During a surprise snow storm, Eddie promises to keep you safe.

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @esme-viridian @munsonology @gvf23 @wheels-of-despair

Word Count- 1.2k

Your yawn was Eddie’s first hint that it might’ve been time for you to go home.

He adored getting to spend time with you, and this time was no different. A relaxing movie night at the trailer, pajamas, a comfy blanket, and enough snacks to feed at least eight people was exactly what you needed with this kind of weather.

It had snowed plenty during these harsh winters, and you had been checking the forecasts all day long just to make sure it would be safe when you left. Eddie even promised to drive you home if you weren’t comfortable driving while the roads were still icy. But you kept assuring him that everything would be alright, it was only supposed to snow around an inch or two during the day, by the time it was dark out you would be alright.

Oh, how you wished the weatherman was right.

You reluctantly grabbed your things and bundled up for a quick walk out to your car, still wanting to stay nice and warm in Eddie’s arms on the couch, but you still had a curfew wether you liked it or not.

“You’re sure you can’t stay a little longer?” He pleaded.

“I’m sure,” You said defeatedly, “i want to stay later, i really do, but you know i have to be home by 11.”

“Alright, fine. At least let me walk you to your car?”

“Of course! But bundle up first, i know it’s right outside but i don’t want you freezing.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and rummaged through the coat rack next to the door for his winter things, quickly slipping on his jacket and hat, along with a pair of gloves. He stepped into his boots next to the door and gave you a quick kiss onto your forehead,

“Ready?”

“Yeah…” You said, upset, putting a little smile onto Eddie’s face as he turned the knob on the front door.

Almost instantly, a wave of freezing cold air hit you both, your eyes squinting as the icy snow hit your faces as you stepped out onto the porch. You could barely see five feet in front of you, and when you turned your head you couldn’t even see your car parked in the gravel driveway in front of the trailer.

Eddie quickly stepped back into the trailer and held tightly onto your arm, bringing you back inside with him. Your nose and cheeks were already burning from the quick temperature change, even after only being outside for no more than 60 seconds.

“There’s no way i’m letting you go out in that, you have to stay here.”

“I can’t! I have my curfew and i need to get home-“

“(y/n).” Eddie said sternly. “It’s freezing out, we can barely see five feet in front of us, and that’s not snow, that’s ice that was coming down. There’s no possible way you can get home safely, even if you only drive 5 miles an hour and have your brights on. I’m not sending you out there like that, i want you here where i know you’ll be safe and i’m sure your parents will understand. I’m going to call them and tell them you’re staying here.”

You sighed and took another quick glance outside. He was right. It wasn’t safe for you to be out there driving in that kind of weather, and you were sure your parents would understand if you had to stay the night. You looked back to him and nodded,

“Alright, but let me talk to them. And you’re sure Wayne is alright with me staying the night?”

“Of course he is! You’ve stayed over before (y/n), he doesn’t care. He said he’d call once he was off work but i’m pretty sure with the weather he’s going to catch a ride with a buddy and stay somewhere close by and just come back in the morning. He’s worse than me when it comes to things like this.”

You giggled, shrugging off your coat and handing it back to Eddie for him to hang up before moving to the phone, dialing your home phone number and waiting for someone to pick up. You felt relief when you heard that little ‘click’ of the handset on the other end,

“Hello?” Your mom. Thank god.

“Hey mom, me and Eddie just tried to leave but the weather is horrid right now.”

“I know hon, i was just about to give you a call, i know me and your dad have been strict on your curfew but we’ll let it slide tonight. We don’t want you on those roads.”

“Thanks. I’ll give you a call tomorrow morning before i leave.”

“Yes you will. Be safe and stay warm, ok? Love you sweetheart.”

“Love you too!” You set the phone back onto the receiver and turned to Eddie again, who had already changed himself back into the sweater he keeps saved for those really cold nights in the trailer, “They said they agree it’s best if i stay here.”

“I would hope so, what kind of parents would want you out in weather like that?”

You shrugged and peeked outside through the breaks in the blinds, seeing the dark white that was cascading over everything in sight. Snowstorms were nothing new in the midwest. It wouldn’t be winter if there wasn’t at least one that screwed everyone over.

But there was something different about this one. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on, but it gave you such an unsettling feeling.

Like you were a kid again, not able to see a thing past your front porch because of how severe the snow was outside, just a vast sea of grey that seemed like it would ever end.

You jumped as Eddie put his hand to your shoulder,

“Everything alright babe?”

“Yeah.” You said plainly, but Eddie knew you too well to let that get past him.

“Don’t lie to me.” Eddie smiled and placed his hands onto your shoulders, guiding you away from the window and back to the couch, “You’ll be alright, i promise. This place has stood through storms that you couldn’t imagine. And don’t worry about the power or anything like that, we’ve got tons of candles just in case and i’d be more than happy to read to you to pass the time.”

You smiled softly up to him, knowing that it wasn’t the trailer that would keep you safe, Eddie would keep you safe. He always kept his promises and if that meant he had to brave this storm too then that’s exactly what he would do.

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him and he slowly moved himself to sit next to you on the couch, pulling you closely into him and gently kissing your temple as he dragged the throw blanket you had been using before over your bodies.

“Don’t thank me, it’s my job to keep you safe and comfortable. I wouldn’t be a very good boyfriend if i didn’t promise to make sure you were ok.”

You leaned your head up to gently peck his lips, settling into him as he reached for the remote on the coffee table, turning the TV back on. You snuggled into his warmth as you were settled on the couch, and though you wanted to stay up you couldn’t help but close your eyes and take in this moment.

You didn’t care about the cold weather outside, all you were worried about was keeping each other warm through the night.

But that wouldn’t be too hard.

[idontplaytrack]

You & I

Janis ‘Imi’ike x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort. quarrelling, coarse language

In which reader’s home life is a mess and she would always run to Janis for comfort and safety.

Requested? Yes / No

p.s. I dunno if y’all are expecting a long one but its a pretty short one, I’m sorry😬

“I told you, I don’t care what you think- I go to work, and you’re at home so the chores are your problem.” Your Dad yells, his voice making your breath hitch. You tried to tune it out and just continued shoving whatever you could into your backpack, periodically glancing at your phone to see if Janis has responded to your text asking if you could go over.

“What the hell does she do all day?!” You heard vaguely. Screwing your eyes shut, you continued hearing, “She goes to school two, three days a week barely a few hours a day. You can’t ask her to help out?! It’s all on me?!”

With tears pricking at your eyes, you forcefully zipped up your backpack, grabbed your phone and made a mad dash down the stairs and straight to the front door. Nothing else was more important than getting out of that house before they could stop you, and before things got worse and stuff gets thrown everywhere. It was a goddamn blessing that Janis lived just 10 minutes away from you, so you could walk there. She calls you while you were on your way there, but she’s already responded to your earlier text that you could be over there anytime. You didn’t pick up, though. You were trying as hard as you could not to breakdown while in public.

Finally arriving at Janis’s you stood in front of her door, pressing the doorbell as you breath became laboured and the dreaded lump in your throat makes its presence known rudely.

“y/n.” Janis answered the door, knowing it was you. “Come on in, darling. I texted you to ask you to wait for me but you didn’t reply so I guessed that you were already on your way.”

The reason for your visit was almost instantly given away by the disheveled look of yours bulky backpack on your shoulder. She takes the backpack from you and led you to sit down. You did so, following her lead as you desperately attempted to blink your tears away. Janis wasn’t big on hugs but she saw you about to cry, she engulfs you in a hug without any hesitation, rubbing your back and telling you that you were okay. That’s never worked out well for you- you’ve always burst into tears when she says that.

Maybe it was because you knew you were truly safe here, physically and emotionally.

“Did they hit you, baby?” She asks quietly.

“No.” You choked on a sob.

She slowly broke away from the hug after a minute or so, analysing your arms and legs. “Babe, what’s the deal with that redness on your thigh?”

You looked at where she was pointing at, realising what she meant. “I was rushing around my room to pack my stuff into my bag, in a hurry. Bumped into a corner of my desk and it broke the skin.”

“You didn’t feel that?” Janis asks, worried.

“I didn’t. Until you pointed it out.” You winced.

She nodded, “Alright. I’m gonna go get the stuff to help you clean that up and a bandaid.”

You weren’t sure why, but once she even started to stand up, you started crying, telling her to stay with you. “Honey, it’s okay. I’m just going to get the first-aid kit. You’re bleeding.” Janis’ words were direct but not harsh. A small sigh falls from her lips as she took you by the hand to go grab the necessary items together with her. She wasn't mad at you and typically, you'd know that. But currently, you were so on the edge from what happened at home that every little thing could make you sob and have a meltdown.

————

As she dabbed the cotton pad with antiseptic on your wound to get it clean, you seethed, barely able to keep still as tears threatened to prick your eyes. "I'm sorry, baby. I know, it stings but I don't want it to get infected." She continues to do so while talking at you, as though a tactic to distract you and get you to focus on her instead. Did it work? Barely.

She carefully places a bandaid over the cleaned cut and told you she was going to throw away the trash in her hands. Now that you were a little bit calmer than before, you let her walk away alone. It didn't even take her a minute and you could see her, but in your mind, you know you just simply could not be alone until you felt completely safe and normalcy returns for you.

She asks you what you wanted to do but you didn't know. Nothing was on your mind. She asks if she could put her arms around you and hug you, knowing that sometimes, you didn't like that. But this time, you agreed to it. "Okay."

"Okay." Janis said back, gently wrapping her arms around you to hold you as she sat together with you on the couch. "Do you want the TV on or off?"

"It's fine, leave it on. You were probably watching something before I came over." You say, snuggling against her chest.

“Rewatching. Charmed.” She smiled a little, “You wanna watch with me?”

“So you can tell me I look like one of the sisters again?” You joked.

“Maybe.” She grins.

“Come on, you know you like the show. Stop denying it.” She giggled, reaching for the remote to press play.

“Which one’s your favourite?” You asked mindlessly, not intending on focusing on the show.

“Baby, I’ve told you this- Phoebe Halliwell was my gay awakening.” Janis replies.

“Really? I thought it was Prue.”

“Maybe her too.” Janis hugs you tighter, “So you were listening.”

“Of course I was.”

Unknowingly, you were at ease, no longer struggling to breathe or on the verge of tears. “I like Prue.” You mentioned casually.

“Oh, yeah?” She looks at you, brushing the hair out of your face as she presses a kiss on your lips, “Maybe I should give you a little treat some time and dress up like her.”

You chuckled, kissing her in reciprocation. “Thanks. For cheering me up. And…everything, really.”

“Anytime, darling.”

[camaro-and-smokes]

Get Out of My Dreams, Get into My Car

Chapter 7: You Got It

Notes: Moodboard by the lovely @a-redharlequin 💜

Summary: Billy had already given Steve an hour-long lecture about the basics, taught Steve to wax his board, and assured that they wouldn’t even have to catch waves today. Unless Steve specifically wanted. Steve didn’t. But he might still try it though if it got Billy's attention.

Read on AO3 >>

:::::::::::::::

On the next morning, Steve was waiting for Billy in their living room wearing his new wetsuit.

“You can swim, can you?” Billy asked Steve with a smirk, pulling the zipper of his own wetsuit closed as he passed Steve on his way to his board.

“I was the captain of the swimming team in high school and a lifeguard at the community pool for two summers. I can swim,” Steve huffed mock-offended, holding his board up. Though, yes, while he was a strong swimmer, The Pacific ocean was a whole another beast than Lake Michigan where he’d spend his childhood summers.

“Just checking,” Billy chuckled, and patted Steve on the shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get started,” he continued and walked out into the sunshine from their living room.

The day was glorious; warm breeze ensured the heat of the sun wasn’t too much and kept the waves small. People were gathered on the beach, seagulls were screeching in the distance.

It wasn’t even midday yet, but Steve had decided not to risk it with his pale skin and had covered every area that wasn’t protected by the wetsuit as much sunscreen as he could. His nose was white with the excess, but better to be careful than sorry.

Billy had already given Steve an hour-long lecture about the basics, taught Steve to wax his board, and assured that they wouldn’t even have to catch waves today. Unless Steve specifically wanted.

Steve didn’t.

He’d tried to keep a brave face throughout, but the closer they got to getting into the water, the more nervous he became. When they were practicing the pop-up on the beach, he couldn’t keep it in anymore. He sat down on the board and looked at Billy, who was on his own board displaying the right position. “Listen, Billy…”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think…this is for me.”

“How so?” Billy asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“All this…safety and technique and…”

Steve hadn’t expected Billy’s smile to be so gentle. “You have practiced new skills before, haven’t you?”

“Yeah…”

“So, you know you gotta do the thing in order to master it. Right?”

Steve chewed his cheek.

“Hey. You said you wanted to try this. This was your idea. But we don’t have to do this. I’m not forcing you to do anything.”

Steve had half hoped Billy would’ve at least sounded annoyed. But of course he didn’t. He was a professional instructor, no matter what. “Yeah, I know.”

Billy sat down on his own board and wrapped his arms loosely around his knees. “I was happy when I saw you in all that gear when I came home the other day. It felt like…” He shook his head and smiled. “It felt like you wanted to try something new and fun, something I liked and…I got really excited. Everyone here knows how to surf and how amazing it is. It felt great you wanted to learn, too.” He paused, looking at the sand, and then looked back up at Steve. “And I thought it would be great to have a hobby we could do together.”

Steve instantly felt like shit. He knew why he was being such a chicken. He was already so far outside his comfort zone, trying this, and, in addition, finally having Billy’s undivided attention. It was all exactly what he’d wanted. Maybe he hadn’t realized how easy it would get it and now he was like a fish out of water. Suddenly, he hoped that he’d have the chance to call Robin and ask her for assurance that he was doing the right thing.

“We’re this far already,” Billy pleaded. “Why not go a bit further and get into the water? Just try staying on the board and paddle a little? No need to even try the pop-up.”

Steve couldn’t help smiling. “You sound like you’ve taught kids at some point.”

“I have. Still do.”

Steve realized that this was something he, even after two months of living with Billy, had no idea of. “Really?”

Billy nodded with a wide smile. “Yeah. Every Saturday morning.”

Steve’s stomach dropped. “You…turned down kids to teach me instead?”

“No, they were gone before you got up. They come in at sunrise, we ride some waves, I give them pointers, and then they’re gone around nine. And it’s not a paying gig. They’re kids from foster care. Argyle’s shop did a fundraiser that got these kids here. He provides the gear, and I donated my time in order to get them into it.”

The way Billy’s face lit up when he spoke about the kids made something fuzzy swell in Steve’s chest. “You’ve actually managed to get them to come here at that hour?”

“The time wasn’t my idea. The kids want to come here the moment they wake up. And since I live here on the beach, it’s not a problem. I salute the foster parents who make it happen.”

Steve bit his lip and nodded. This was a whole new aspect to Billy, and he liked it. A lot. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

The smile that spread across Billy’s face alone was worth a try, at least.

Billy was glad the mention of the kids got Steve to at least give the real deal a try. He led them into thigh-high water with Steve’s board. “Okay, we’ll just try paddling. Nothing more.”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve replied, sitting onto the board that Billy held in place, and laid down.

The waves were small, but big enough to go over the board and directly on his face. He tried paddling, but the waves kept pushing back, and he lost his balance from the first wave that hit him, making him fall into the water. He tried again, with the same result. “How do you stay on this thing?”

“I told you, you gotta start paddling at once if you don’t want to get overthrown by these baby-waves,” Billy said and came to help again. “Go on, try again. I’ll keep you steady so that you get the idea.”

Steve laid down on the board once again, facing the open ocean and the waves that were coming at him lazily.

Billy took a deep breath, knowing he would have to touch Steve, but this time without an excuse, and grabbed the board from both sides, his other arm over Steve’s legs. “Okay, now start paddling,” he said as he gently pushed the board through the first wave, then the second while Steve paddled with his both hands and propelled the board forward. When they got through the first three waves, Billy let go. “Now you got it!”

The board glided through the small waves, up and down, through one and down again. Steve couldn’t help smiling. This was amazing, and he wasn’t yet even actually surfing. He turned his head to shout to Billy how great this was, but that, of course, distracted him. A slightly bigger wave made him lose his balance, plunging him into the turquoise. He was rolling in the water and took a gulp of the saltwater, of course inhaling it. Panicking, he got disoriented for a while until a firm hand caught his arm and pulled him above the surface. He started coughing immediately.

“Hey, you’re okay,” Billy said and rubbed Steve’s back. “You’re on the surface.”

“Mayb—maybe we’re…” Steve started, but he had to halt to cough more water from his lungs. “…done for today,” he finally wheezed.

“Yeah, I agree,” Billy replied with a smile, giving Steve’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and taking the board, leading them back to the beach.

Steve sat down on the side of the wooden terrace of the bungalow to take a proper breath and have his heartbeat slow down a little.

Billy pushed Steve’s board to stand in the sand. Before sitting next to Steve, he opened his wetsuit, pushing the top part of it to hang on his hips.

Steve made a point of not looking.

“Hey, that can happen to anyone,” Billy said, pushing his hair back from his face with his hand. “I’ve taken a dive like that more times than I can count.”

“I have sand everywhere,” Steve muttered.

Billy let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, probably.”

“You ever thought you might drown when surfing?”

“Not drowning, no, not really. Though worried about being bitten by a shark once, yes.”

“Oh god,” Steve moaned and buried his face in his hands. “I’d forgotten those.”

“Hey,” Billy said, patting Steve’s shoulder. “That was one time. One, and I’ve surfed my whole life—apart those few years in Hawkins. It’s not as frequent as it’s made to be. More of bad luck. If you get bitten, that is.”

“I don’t know if I can try again.”

“Maybe now is not the best moment to decide that. You being shocked and all.”

Steve glanced at Billy, who was looking back at with a kind smile. “I bet you’re great with the kids.”

Billy’s smile widened. “You should come a watch sometime. The kids are amazing.”

Steve smiled a little. “Maybe I will.”

“Wanna get rid of all the sand?”

“Preferably.”

“You gotta take off the suit out here on the terrace and let it dry. Then you can just shake it all out. If you bring it in wet, there’s sand everywhere inside too. I prefer keeping the sand here on the beach.”

“Sure, I’ll do that. Would you bring me a towel?”

“Yeah.”

When Billy went back out with the towel and a bottle of water for the both of them, Steve had removed the top of the wetsuit and was looking at the surfers that were riding waves further on the beach.

Billy swallowed. He didn’t remember Steve having that much chest hair in high-school. He didn’t care for that much hair on his men, but on Steve…He was willing to make an exception.

“I’m proud that you tried,” he said to Steve as he gave him the towel.

Steve took it, now smiling a little. “Yeah. Well, I had to,” he said as he wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out of the wetsuit. “You kept pestering me about it. I really had no choice.”

“Me? Pestering? Never,” Billy said with a smirk, mock-offended.

Steve was smiling, too, and Billy knew there was something happening between them, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what. Steve had bought everything he’d need for surfing, just like that, and asking nothing from him. No tips, what kind of board to get…Honestly, it would’ve made more sense for Steve to ask him to borrow a suit and a board from him for the first few tries rather than just buy his own out of the blue. But Steve had surprised him with this whole thing, suddenly wanting to try and having all the gear…So, either he had really gotten the idea of try surfing stuck to Steve’s mind or…Billy didn’t want to let himself go there, but he knew he already had; Steve wanted to try something Billy loved to get to know him better.

Billy looked as Steve downed the entire water bottle in one swig. Steve fit on the beach. The wind blew his hair all over, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was tall and fit, and sure, maybe he was a little pale, but that would be fixed if he wanted to get on the board again. And besides, the moles he was dotted with, they stood out better like this. Billy found himself thinking he wanted to touch them, to examine them one by one, trail them with his finger, find all the constellations hidden in them.

He felt hope in his heart for the first time, even though he knew it was dangerous. From all his previous experience, he’d learned that hope was a recipe for a disaster. But Steve, he surely wouldn’t do that to him? Break his heart?

When Steve finished his water, he glanced at Billy and caught him staring. Billy’s soft gaze made something warm bloomed in his chest. “What?” he asked, smiling.

Billy smiled back. “Nothing. Just thought you fit on the beach.”

“I do?”

Billy nodded, folding his arms over his chest. “Maybe you’re a bit too pale to fit in properly, but we can fix that.”

“I’m still not sure if I want to get back on the board.”

“That’s okay. You can stay on land and watch. Work on your tan instead.”

Steve laughed. “Sure.”

They looked at the other surfers for a moment again. Steve felt that he’d accomplished something even if the try had ended in a disaster. Though, he also felt stupid, even though he knew no one could handle something like this on the first try. But he’d fallen off, rolled in sand, and inhaled salt water right in front of Billy, which made it extra humiliating. He hadn’t wanted to mess up that badly.

“Don’t worry about the fall,” Billy said, as if he’d heard Steve’s thoughts. “You tried, and that is enough as itself.”

Yeah, Steve was proud about that, of trying. And that Billy acknowledged it. He’d done what he set out to do; to get Billy’s attention. This was a good start.

“Hey, go ahead and take a shower. I can take one after you. Won’t hog all the hot water from you,” Billy said, winking, and took Steve’s wetsuit and hung it to the hook next to the terrace door.

“Well, that’s a first,” Steve said with a short laugh as he walked inside.

[eclecticwriting]

My hubby wrote this today and I had to share it:

I Wished I Was A Snake

This morning when I arrived at the train station to start my commute into work, I noticed a couple of construction workers and a few commuters watching and taking pictures of something in the parking lot.

I was on the train platform and couldn’t immediately see what the stir was. Then the workers parted, and I saw they were huddled around a beautiful black snake. It was maybe 2 to 3 feet long and was trying to cross the lot to escape the hot, noisy construction and get to the cool, quiet woods on the far side.

One of the construction workers appeared to be kicking at it with his foot, which instantly annoyed me, until I realized he was trying to hurry it along to safety.

I managed to catch just snippets of the conversation. The guy hurrying the snake said something about being from Georgia where killing that kind of snake was illegal. He seemed to have a fondness for the creature.

As the train was late, myself and a few others on the platform started to get invested in the little drama. As the snake slowly made it halfway across the lot and we all watched with horror each time a car entered. But the construction works weren’t having it. The gentlemen surrounded the snake, warned cars away, shepherded it.

Protected it.

I found my stress level up as it made its journey, for some reason now fully invested in some stupid snake that didn’t really matter. But the idea of it being crushed to death by a distracted commuter in an SUV who probably wouldn’t have cared had they even noticed it filled me with distress. And, oddly, a beat of nascent rage.

Presently the snake got to the other side of the lot and slowly disappeared into the woods. As it did, the benevolent construction workers smiled at each other and started their day. I exhaled a sigh of relief, as did others around me.

For some reason, at that moment in this fractured, angry world, the welfare of that one little snake mattered to us. It wasn’t off to hurt anyone. It wasn’t going to run a scam, tell lies or cause strife. It was simply doing what we all want to do: escape a life of danger and disharmony in favor of a life of peace and safety. Isn’t that what we all want?

I felt at peace in that moment and my life felt a little bit lighter. The late train finally arrived, and I climbed aboard with a little inner smile.

And for one brief moment, I wished I was a snake.

_ R. Hayes

[band--psycho]

Chibs Telford x Reader-Stuck With You

The next story for my Christmas Writing Challenge, requested by the amazing @munsinner

I hope you all enjoy this!💛

Prompt-What do you mean we're stuck here?!

Warnings - Smut (18+)

“What do you mean we’re stuck here?” Y/n asked, frustration lacing her voice. 

She was sat in a broken down car, with the last man she wanted to be with, Chibs fucking Telford. Of all the people in the world, she had to be stuck in a car with him. 

She didn’t use the word hate often, but she definitely hated him. Most people hate the first person to break their heart and Chibs did that. 

He might've as well just torn her heart out of her chest and stomped on it. 

She was twenty, when she fell for the Scotsman of the Sons of Anarchy motorcycle group. No one knew about their relationship; it was a secret that they both kept, mainly because they didn’t want other people to have an opinion on their relationship. 

She was twenty-one when he broke her heart. She couldn’t bear being around him, watching him flirt with other women as though she didn’t exist, so when a job opportunity in New York came up, she took it without hesitation.

That was four years ago, and yet still when she saw him her heart ached. 

A small scoff left Chibs’ lips. He didn’t particularly want to be stuck in a car with Y/n either. Being stuck in a car with the women he was head over heels for but could never have, wasn’t exactly a great thing for him. 

But he wanted to see her again, he missed her…that’s why he agreed to collect her from the hotel she was staying in while Jax and the others sorted out some slightly difficult business while Gemma and Tara got things sorted for the Christmas party. Gemma and Clay didn’t know Y/n was coming to the Christmas party, it was a surprise her and Jax had sorted out. 

He knew she hated him. 

He broke her heart. 

Though inbreaking her heart, he also broke his own, because he did love Y/n Teller. Even to this day. 

But he had to end their relationship. For her safety and the clubs, all because of Jimmy O. 

He’d taken an interest in Y/n and managed to spot the feelings Chibs had for her..,,of course Chibs could’ve told the club about his and Y/ns relationship, told them about the threat Jimmy O had made to him, so that they could keep her safe…but he knew that the club needed Jimmy O, so he ended his relationship with Y/n. 

“I mean, we’re stuck here,” he replied, his voice  softer than hers but an evident sense of irritation.

“You’re a mechanic, can’t you fix it?” Y/n scoffed. 

Chibs shook his head, “I could try if I had any of the tools, but oddly enough Lass, I didn’t expect to be breaking down,”

‘This can’t be happening’ Y/n thought to herself, as a frustrated sigh left her lips as she looked at her phone; no service. 

She opened the car door, the sharp chill in the air making her regret her decision to leave the warmth of the car almost instantly and it certainly made her regret her clothing choices of a thin jumper dress and heeled boots; but she’d rather freeze than stay in the car with him for a moment longer. All she had to do was walk far enough to get a signal on her phone, then she could call a taxi, get away from Chibs and get to the party to see her family. 

So she started walking. 

“Y/n where are you going?” Chibs questioned as he also exited the car. 

She ignored him and just kept walking.

“Y/n, just stop,” 

Again, Y/n ignored him, until her steps were halted when she felt his fingers wrap around her wrist. 

For a split second, she felt her heart flutter as though it had never been broken…then all the memories came washing back over her as she attempted to recoil from him. 

“Why are you doing this? Acting like you give a shit about me?” Y/n asked, her voice barely above a whisper; she couldn’t understand him. He broke her heart and then acted like she didn’t even exist, and yet in his eyes, Y/n thought he saw genuine care for her. 

And that not only confused her but angered her as well. 

“Because I do give a shit about ye,” he answered, squeezing her wrist slightly. 

“Don’t-“

“I love ya, Y/n”

“No you don’t, and I don’t love you,” 

Chibs knew she was lying, even after all these years, she was still a terrible liar. 

He didn’t know what came over him, but he knew that nothing he said, she’d believe. 

So he pulled her towards him and placed his lips on hers before she had a chance to say anything.

Y/n wanted to pull away from the kiss and slap him, before walking away from him.

But she didn’t, instead she found herself melting into the kiss. 

Her hands tangled into his silvering hair, while his hands moved to her waist.

Quickly the kiss became heated. Full of desire and longing but also anger and hurt. 

Soon enough and without breaking the kiss, Y/n's back was pressed up against the car.

“I hate you,” Y/n mumbled against his lips, trying to ignore how aroused he’d made her, just from a kiss. While also trying to ignore his erection which was pressing against her and how much she wanted his dick in her mouth. 

A low chuckle left Chibs’ lips as one of his hands lifted reached down to under her dress. His hand gently slipped past the thin material of her panties, his thumb began to rub small circles on her clit while one of his fingers slipped insideher dampening pussy. 

“Is that why ye’re already soaked, love?” He cooed in her ear, hearing  a small moan leave her lips at his words. 

Y/n wanted to argue with him; to stop him from doing what he was doing; but despite the anger that was boiling in her veins, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him to stop. 

The last time she’d felt pleasure like this was the last time they’d slept together; sure she’d slept with a few guys when she was in New York, but none of them had made her feel this good, and she knew he hadn’t even really started yet. 

He slowly pumped his finger in and out of her dripping pussy for what felt like hours to Y/n, but in reality it was only a few torturous minutes; he watched with a smirk on his while Y/n attempted to hold back her moans. 

“Don’t hold back on me, love, let me hear ye,”

As he said those he added another finger inside of her, eliciting a loud moan from her lips. 

God he’d almost forgotten how much he loved it when she made that sound. 

He knew she was close; he could tell by how quick her breathing was and how her hips were bucking against him, she was near enough bouncing on his fingers.

For a few seconds, his fingers paused their movements, though his thumb still continued to rub her overly sensitive clit. 

Then he continued. Faster. Hitting her g-spot each and every time.

“Cum,” he whispered softly against her lips, before connecting their lips once again, swallowing the moan that came from Y/n as Y/n's euphoric orgasm ripped through her body. 

It was safe to say her panties were soaked as was Chibs’ hand. 

“Tell me to stop,” he muttered; pressing his forehead against hers; his dry hand moving to her face, caressing her cheek. 

She looked up at him with questionable eyes; she didn’t want him to stop. She should’ve. She hated him. That’s what she kept telling herself anyway, but the truth was she still loved him. 

“Tell me to stop, otherwise I’m gonna bend ye over the hood of this car and fuck ye,”

~~~~~~

He bent her over and fucked her over the hood of the car; he also made her cum two more times when they got back in the car; and now they were cuddled up in the backseat with a spare blanket Chibs had in the trunk of his car. 

Neither of them had really said anything to each other since they got cuddled up under the blanket, even though both of their minds were racing with things to say to one another. 

“Why did you do it?” Y/n asked quietly, anxiously playing with her fingers, trying desperately to keep herself together. 

Chibs knew what she was talking about. 

So he explained it, all of it, everything that Jimmy O had told him, the threats he made against her and the club. 

To say Y/n was shocked would’ve been an understatement; but she was also still angry at him. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

The tone of her voice, clearly showing her anger. 

“Ye would’ve stayed,” he sighed, his hand rubbing her arm soothingly, in an attempt to calm her anger. 

“Of course I would’ve stayed, I love you,” 

She only realised what she’d said when she saw how Chibs’ eyes softened.  

“So where do we go from here, love?” He questioned, wondering what her admission meant. If it changed anything between them or if there was no possible way for them to go back to how they once were. 

Truth was, Y/n didn’t know. 

She loved him. But she didn’t know if she could trust him with her heart again, even though she somewhat understood the reason he didn’t tell her. It still hurt that he kept the truth from her. 

“I love you, Filip,” she began, placing her hand over his, “but even after all this, we can’t just jump back in to what we were,”

He pressed a soft kiss on the top of her head, “I know,” 

It was going to be a long road; for both of them. But both of them were willing to try and again; because the truth was, they’d both been miserable without each other. 

“Think we’re gonna be late to the Christmas party,” Chibs chuckled as Y/n nestled into his chest. 

“I’m sure someone will come and find us,” Y/n said; and as if in cue they both heard a motorcycle engine relatively close by and they both frantically got dressed before getting found by Tig who was on his motorcycle and Jax, who pulled up beside them in Gemma’s car.

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @i-just-read-stuff @05supernatural20 @heyitskat101 @beeroses @skyofficialxx @sassymox @jitterbugs927 @rebelwrites @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @xbreezymeadowsx @munsonx @may85 @lady-writes-flanagan @little-diable @beth-gallagher22 @oskea93 @lexondeck @thexhostess @tempt-ress @choochoo284 @bl3333h @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @devilishducky97 @meteora-fc @the-mayan-queen @rosieposie0624 @withmyteeth @thekaelicobain @elliewigginton20 @chibsgirl143 @chibsytelford @samanthaofanarchy @itscheybaby @bookworm1767 @missbee1095 @xxemberlights @igotmajordaddyissues @stillbreathin

[kteezy997]

My Boy // T.C.

Plot: y/n sees Bones and All with Timmy for the first time and has a hard time recovering.

Warnings: sad reader, BONES AND ALL SPOILERS, reader being scared, major fluff and smut mixed together, breast play,mention of cum, Timmy sucking reader’s breast as he goes to sleep

Author’s note: Maybe don’t read this if you haven’t seen Bones and All yet!

(I mean it’s also a book so the story is already out there but if you haven’t experienced the movie, you can read this fic later (;)

Walking out of the theater, y/n was visibly stoic. She wasn't showing much emotion, and she was almost completely quiet, except for small talk with people Timothée had introduced her to. Finally, they got into the car to be driven home and he gave her a look of great concern as they were now alone.

"Y/n, are you okay, baby? Something's wrong, what's going on?" He put his hand on her hair, tucking a small piece behind her ear. She was definitely sad, and relieved to not have to act fine in front of so many people anymore. "I'm just... upset, I guess." "You didn't like the movie?" "No, honey, of course that's not it. The film was…a masterpiece.”

"What then; was it me being with Taylor? You didn't like seeing me with someone else?" "No, no it's fine. You're an actor, that's just part of it." Timmy then took ahold of her hand on her lap, "Okay then, just please tell me what's wrong, I don't like seeing you like this."

"That’s just it, Timmy." "What is?" he frowned. "I don't like seeing you be sad either. And you suffered so much in this movie. I know it’s just acting, but I still hate seeing my boy like that.” her voice broke as she continued on and she teared up, "And the ending…I mean, I read the book of course, but nothing could have prepared me for that-" her breath got caught in her throat as she began to sob.

"Okay, hey, hey, come here." Timmy cooed, pulling her into his arms. She cried into his chest, just letting it all out. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I should have prepared you better for it. It is really heavy. The book was tough, but to see it acted out on a great big screen is totally different.” He grabbed her face delicately with both hands and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry you’re so upset, baby. I love you so much.” He took her hand in his once again, intertwining their fingers together this time.

“I don’t even wanna see you cry, but seeing you dying Timmy…it was too much..” she shook her head, tears continued to fall onto her cheeks and down the bridge of her nose. “Oh, my sweet girl.” He pulled her onto his lap, not caring about proper vehicle safety, and put his forehead on hers.

“It was just a movie, darling. I’m right here, with you.” He held her hand tighter, “I’m not going anywhere.” Timmy then kissed y/n softly on the lips. He wiped her tears away. She exhaled deeply, “I know it’s probably stupid, and I’m just being a baby.” “No, honey, you’re not either of those things. Not at all.” he assured her with a smile.

Later that night, or early the next morning rather, Timmy had gotten out of bed. Y/n was awoken as she had felt the movement and the emptiness in the bed when he was gone. It wasn’t uncommon for one of them to wake up when the other went to the bathroom in the middle of the night. They were just that in sync with one another.

Y/n had turned on her side and closed her eyes. Her back was to Timmy when he returned to bed. He moved his body flush against hers under the covers. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder through her T-shirt and put his hand on her side. “Mm, Timmy.” she cooed.

Timmy smirked to himself, and snuck his hand under her shirt, instantly palming her breast. “Hey, Mr. Handsy.” she giggled, grabbing his hand. “Sorry.” he pouted, then he nuzzled his face into her neck. He left little apologizing kisses on her skin. “I should have been more respectful.”

“It’s okay, sweet boy. You can touch me wherever you want to.” she stated, letting go of his hand. “Oh?” he said, moving his hand back to her breasts, “Here okay?” “Yes, baby.” He hummed contentedly, and continued to massage her breasts. He ran his fingertips over the swell of them and rubbed her nipples, making her whimper.

“Feel good, Princess?” “Yes. I love it.” she moaned, biting her lip. Timmy softly pinched his fingers on her nipple, then was a little rough with the other and she gasped in response. His hand left her breasts, and he slid his palm down her smooth tummy and his fingers dipped into her panties.

As he slid his fingers into her folds, he said, “So wet, baby.” He left a wet kiss on her cheek. “Lay on your back for me, my love.” He removed his hand from her momentarily and sat up. Y/n did as she was told and lay flat on her back. Timmy took ahold of her legs, parting them and resting them on either side of his hips.

Timmy held his cock in his hand, letting the tip come into sensual contact with her clit. Her breathing became uneven with anticipation. Her toes curled as he slowly rubbed the head of his cock along her opening. She moaned, softly bucking her hips. She felt adrenaline running down her body and hitting right at the spot where she needed his cock to be.

“Fuck me, Timothée. I want you to fuck me.” “As you wish.” he said simply. With one thrust, he was inside her, pushing in as deeply as he could. She gasped loudly, and moaned as he retracted. He pulled his cock out completely, then pushed into her again, feeling her tight clenching around him with every inch.

“God, so fucking good.” he huffed. He grabbed her by the hips. He found a rhythmic pace to make her moan and arch her back, not too slow, not too fast. He used her shirt to grab onto as an anchor, then thought it’d be better to just push her shirt up to free her breasts. They both knew it was a necessity during sex for him to see her breasts; or to touch them or put his mouth on them.

Timmy palmed and squeezed her breasts and somehow even with the distraction of her tits, he was able to thrust faster. There was more friction between their bodies, more harsh, wet sounds filling the air. “Yes, yes, Timmy! I’m so close, baby. Just like that, baby.” she whimpered her sweet praises to him, lulling the both of them into their sweet releases.

He coated her belly with small streams of his cum and left the room to quickly get a cloth to wipe her clean. He cleaned her thoroughly, and they cozied up back into bed. She closed her eyes once again, feeling ultra relaxed after their love session. She felt the warmth of Timmy’s body on her backside. “I love you, baby.” she said, resting against him. “I love you too, Princess.”

But just a few minutes later, she felt Timmy’s fingers, which were cool to the touch, trailing up her shirt, across her warm skin. He pushed her shirt up, bunching the fabric up and out of the way. Her nipple hardened almost instantly as it was exposed to the cool air of their bedroom. She moaned instinctively at the sensation.

She then felt him shifting a little bit, and he moved downward slightly. The next thing she knew, Timmy’s warm mouth wrapped around her nipple. He closed his eyes, relaxing against her body comfortably. He started sucking ever so softly, barely applying any pressure to her nipple. It was just enough to be latched on to her.

“Lover.” she whispered with a tired smile. Gently, she placing her hand on his silky curls. He responded with a tiny, muffled moan of his own. His hand rested on her rib cage and it was clear that he was content, and he intended to sleep this way. Y/n carefully pulled the covers back over them, cautious to not sheath his face at all. Then, she went back to idly petting his hair and shut her eyes for the final time that early morning.

She went to sleep feeling butterflies swirling in her stomach, just thinking about Timmy and how much they loved each other. He knew now, after seeing Bones and All, how terrified she was of losing him. Therefore, he fell into one of his little habits to let her know that he was there. It was just for them, no one else would ever know of his endearing suckle on her breast as they slept. It was one of his many ways of showing his love to her, and she felt loved every time he did it.

[elejah4ever]

The next parts of my theory.

Elena had a major impact on Elijah due to her unknowingly being the reason why he didn’t give Klaus and Rebekah what they wanted for the first time ever, the hybrid wanted a doppelgänger to break his curse and the latter wanted revenge for Elena’s actions towards her, Elijah broke his word for the first time since he wasn’t around to protect her even though he used his family’s sacred vow on Elena which is also something he’s never done before.

Elijah’s scared of how intense his feelings are for Elena since acknowledging them means admitting them which would lead to any and all enemies of his and his family, not to mention Katherine’s enemies since almost everyone even her best friends confused the two except Elijah who would know instantly since he’s known Katherine for 500 years before he knew Elena, using her against him. That’s why he kept her at a distance, so she’d be safe. He’d rather her be happy with someone else who wasn’t him than her being chased down forever. Him using his family’s sacred vow in the letter he wrote her is the biggest clue of his feelings while also using that as an excuse to be around her more without anyone asking questions since his word and his family’s sacred vow are the two things he tries not to break.

His love for Elena would mean the possibility of him losing her and that’s something he can't afford to do, but they can't stay away from each other for long. He knew it was Elena and not Katherine which is why he took the opportunity when it was there for you to take. Not to mention the fact that they are drawn to each other like magnets, but tries to stay away because he likes to be in control and him being afraid of his own feelings for her is new territory for him after losing two previous love interests since Tatia and Celeste both died. He never let anyone know his family history and yet, he told her when he’s known her for months at the time. He doesn’t want to lose her which is why he’s distancing himself from her when that is the worst thing he could do. Elena is the doppelganger and people have already come after her. She's safer with him than she is with Stefan and Damon.

Elena's just as in love with him as he is with her because she always goes to him for safety, she kept the letter until she turned off her emotions unless she secretly still has it and just said that to see what his reaction would be, she knew he’d save her, she kept trusting him with her family and she wanted to tell him Esther's plan, but couldn't because Esther and Finn were standing within ear shot and the former probably would have k1lled her if she did tell him.

After Elena leaves, Elijah has a flashback about Katherine who says, “true love isn’t real unless it’s returned” before she asks him if he agrees. He says that he doesn’t believe in love-I think it’s possibly because of Tatia and her death-before Katherine asks him that if people cease to believe in love then why would they want to live?!?! I also noticed he says that caring for another doppelgänger is a common mistake he’s told and that he won’t make it again-which I believe is a lie from the look on his face-AFTER he has the flashback of himself and Katherine that I previously mentioned-shortly after Elena comes back and DURING that scene he has another flashback of Klaus telling him that love is a weakness!!!!!!!! I like to think that when he had the flashback of himself and Katherine is when he realized that he’s in love with Elena. The flashback of him and Klaus about how love is a weakness tells me that Elijah decided to push his feelings for Elena away and ignore them, partially because of Klaus.

I believe he fell in love with her when they were in the car, he wonders if and hopes she feels the same way when he remembers what Katherine said about true love not being real unless it’s returned before he just says fuck it due to Klaus saying love is a weakness.

She probably fell in love with him since the day they met, but didn’t realize it until she got his letter.

[indigosunsetao3]

A Reason To Try

Chapter 4 - New Directive

Masterlist of Chapters

Warnings: 18+ - No minors Please read the tags on AO3 for any of your triggers

Alex Keller X Original FMC 5.8k words - AO3 Link

Madeline was able to get the gist of the one side of the conversation she could hear from Alex and her blood ran cold. They weren’t going to take them with them. After all of this, they were going to be left behind. She should have just stayed home, stayed holed up in the apartment like she wanted to do to begin with. Now they were out there in the middle of nowhere and there was no way she could get back to the apartment now. Their car was busted, she could smell smoke, and they were just going to be left to fend for themselves.

“I’m not leaving them behind,” Alex said smoothly back to Graves over the comms as he looked over at Madeline in the passenger seat for a second. He didn’t even need to think about it. He had said he’d get them to safety and he was going to make sure he kept that vow.

“Then don’t Keller. We can do it without you.” Graves answered back.

“Price is this your directive?” Alex asked into the mic, ignoring Graves. He found the hangar; it wasn’t hard to miss since it was the only one with lights on and multiple cars. Sliding a bit on the ice he squealed the car to a stop, jolting in his seat against the seatbelt at the sudden movement. “Stay here,” Alex said to Madeline who was already unbuckling her seatbelt.

“So you can ditch us? I don’t think so,” Madeline snapped as she got the belt off and let the buckle crack against the window in her haste. “I’ll be right back E, just need to sort a few things out,” she said turning back to look at him and Everett just nodded. He was exhausted, all of the fight and fear drained from him. She turned the volume up on the radio a few degrees for good measure; he didn’t need to hear them all yelling if it came to that.

“I’m not ditching you,” Alex answered as he watched her come around the car to walk alongside him. She looked fierce and determined, even if she was terrified. “I would have done that back in downtown Boston if that was my plan,” he snapped, wondering if she really thought that lowly of him after all this.

“I don’t know you,” Madeline said as she stomped next to him, her eyes roving over him as if sizing him up for good measure. “You brought us here because it was convenient and you needed the car. But when we’re no longer an easy task then what?” She knew how these things could go. How many times had she been left behind by the ‘good guy’ in her life. Too many.

“Listen, if I-“ Alex started determined to defend himself but then stopped. Graves had walked over in their little tiff and was staring at them with his head slightly cocked, an amused look on his face, and hand holding a pistol at his side. Alex instantly grabbed Madeline’s wrist and yanked her to a hard stop before she got too close to the guy and his small band of Shadows. She shook him off about to snap at him when she caught why Alex had stopped her.

“Get back in the car,” Graves greeted while raising his gun to point right at Madeline who shot her hands in the air. Alex didn’t budge, didn’t even flinch, because Graves was not the first or last person that would threaten him with a loaded weapon. “This is my directive, this is my operation,” he said answering Alex’s last question before glancing at Price with a smirk. Price looked highly unimpressed but outnumbered by the other Shadows there wasn’t much he could do. “Either you come with us now Keller, or you get back in that fucking car.” He shrugged, “or I can shoot you both for holding me up. I’m not picky.”

“What the fuck Graves?” Alex asked as he stared at the man. He saw Graves flip the safety off as he continued to point it at Madeline and Alex subtly sidestepped to get in the line of fire.

If Madeline had any sense she would have cowered and gone right back to the car. But she stood her ground, legs shaking and feeling like she was going to faint as she stared at the man pointing a gun at her. She wasn’t going to risk Everett’s safety because this guy was seemingly on a power trip based on everyone else’s reactions to him. This must be the guy that Alex had said kept his Shadows on a string like puppets. She opened her mouth to say something but Alex blocked her eyeline, his broad shoulders stepping in the way of the barrel aimed at her. Maybe it was a good thing she kept her snark to herself.

“We aren’t risking ourselves for two people, not on a mission this big. We don’t get this potential cure it’s over for everyone.” Graves shrugged, “I’m not making you come along. If you want to stay here and play the white knight for her like you did for Farah,” he smirked, “be my guest. But you have ten seconds to make a choice before I make it for you.”

“Leave me your keys and a few guns,” Alex said to Price as he looked over at him, ignoring Graves and his taunts. The asshole liked being the center of attention and he wasn’t about to give him that satisfaction. “I’ll get them to the CDC,” he stated and Price nodded.

“Always so chivalrous,” Graves taunted. “I’ll be sure to let Farah know that you ignored her orders too.” He laughed at Alex’s glare before turning around, rotating his free hand in the air in a circle. “Round up boys. We’re leaving.”

“You can’t be serious. We can’t drive through this, we barely got here!” Madeline said feeling rage boiling up in her as she stomped up to Alex’s back, knocking her shoulder into his as she moved to walk around him.  “You’re leaving us to die!” Madeline yelled loudly at the man called Graves who didn’t even bother to look back as he climbed into the plane.

“He’s been known to do that,” Alex answered flatly as he looked at Price and Ghost who were walking over.

“We have to go with him,” Price said quietly as he handed the keys over. “You know what he’s done in the past, I’m not letting him go unattended.” His eyes darted over to Madeline and she stared right back at him, not even flinching as the guy in the skull mask crossed his arms and assessed her.

“I get it,” Alex answered as he took the keys to one of the large SUVs; a Tahoe. “Probably take us a few days to get there,” he explained as Madeline continued to look between them all like they were insane. “How much can you leave me?”

“Full crate,” Gaz answered as he walked over. “You’ll need to get gas though,” he stated as he looked over his shoulder as the plane whirred to life. “Soap is already on making sure they don’t leave us all behind.” He paused and smirked, “or maybe strangling Graves, not sure.”

“He’d deserve it,” Madeline seethed as she looked at the pilot through the front window of the plane as they flipped switches. “Any of you pilots? Just shoot him and take it,” she reasoned. She had never been one to advocate for murder but for Everett, she found it wasn’t fully off the table. "He doesn't even know where they are, didn't even bother to ask," she tapped her foot impatiently wondering if she could use that as a bargaining chip to get on the plane. "I talked to my sister on the phone, they're hiding in a school." She wasn't going to risk her sister she decided a second later.

“Just the occasional helo,” the one with the skull mask said which elicited a chuckle from the man in a baseball cap. “We need them even if we don’t want them,” he tacked on, “otherwise I would.”

"A school?" Price interjected quickly looking at Madeline. "Last I knew they were at a local hospital."

"Yeah, well I'm willing to bet sick people also went to the same hospital," Madeline answered crossing her arms mirroring Ghost's body language. "She said it's the biggest building in the town nearest the airfield. Don't tell that asshole," she gestured with a jerk of her chin, "he'll probably push you out of the plane if he thinks you aren't of use."

Price chuckled and cut his eyes at the man in the skull mask before nodding. "Noted. Still in Parupa?" And when Madeleine quietly said yes he let it drop.

“Go,” Alex said after a second to the team, his eyes flicking over Madeline’s face which was twisted with anger as she pointedly looked away from all of them at the plane. “Get to them before it's too late. I’ve got this, I’ll see you in a few days,” he finished. When Price clapped him on the arm, they all nodded at one another before the three of them jogged back to the plane.

He wasn’t going to ask any of them to stay behind, even if he could use the help. For all that Graves was this mission was much more important and they all knew it. Alex also knew they could use him as an extra set of hands but wasn’t going to leave Madeline and Everett to fend for themselves after he dragged them out there. And not especially when her sister, who could potentially put a stop to all of this, was depending on him to keep her family alive.

“Alex, are you crazy? We need to get on that plane,” Madeline said as the other men got out of earshot. “If we just get on…they wouldn’t-” she stepped toward the plane as if she were going to march over and demand they let them on. Alex grabbed the hood of her jacket swiftly, she really was like wrangling a temperamental child, which stopped her. She twisted to get him to let go but he held fast and she whirled on him. “At least send Everett,” she demanded, “he can’t do this with us. He’s six, how are we supposed to do this with a child?” She gestured at the car where Everett was still settled in.

“You heard him, they are going right for your sister. They aren’t stopping and honestly, they need to get to her as fast as possible after that phone call you had with her.” Alex stated as he stared at her in the car headlights. The look of fear on Madeline’s face at the reminder of what her sister was going through was enough to make his gut twist in guilt. “It should be a relative straight shot to Atlanta if we leave now before everything can be blockaded.” He added trying to change the subject a bit.

The plane roared as it began to move forward and Madeline pushed her hair off her face as it blew this way and that as she watched it taxi. Their ticket out of Boston was slowly rolling away right before her eyes and there was nothing she could do about it. She sighed before twisting away from Alex defeated, the fight draining out of her as fast as it had come on. She was tired, so tired, and couldn’t even begin to fathom what was lying ahead of them if getting out of Boston had been this bad so early. She watched Alex for a second as he let his hand fall to his side before she walked back toward the car to where Everett was waiting to tell him plans were changing. Again.

Alex watched her go before heading to one of the SUVs, hitting the key fob to figure out which one it was. Opening the trunk, he pulled a crate of weapons toward him and began to take stock of what was left behind. It was a decent amount thankfully. An M-16, plenty of bullets, a few grenades, flares, rounds for his pistol, and even another set of pistols. He had a feeling that Gaz may have slipped a few extra things in there for him when he realized what was happening; knowing Alex wasn’t going to just ditch Madeline and Everett. Just like when he hadn’t left Farah in her moment of need.  Well, the first time. The thought of her alone in this right now sent a jolt of regret down his spine as he slammed the trunk shut and pocketed the keys.

“I know it’s cold bud,” Madeline answered Everett’s quiet complaint as she stared at the contraption of his booster seat. There were straps that led to nowhere, buckles, a button, and even a crank handle. She had no idea how any of this worked, Josephine had set this up and they had never needed to remove it.

“Ready?” Alex asked as he walked over, slinging his M-16 over his shoulder as Madeline struggled with the booster seat to get it out. Everett was standing next to the car, his hand holding on tight to the door handle as if Madeline had given him instruction to hold still and not leave.

“I can’t get his seat,” Madeline answered frustrated as she shook the stupid thing and tugged harder before shoving it away from her with a frustrated grunt. She glared at it before grabbing at it again and tugging hard at the straps that held it onto the base. It didn’t budge and she almost screamed in frustration; not necessarily at the seat but with everything else that was happening. The seat was going to be the final straw.

“Hang on,” Alex said, realizing Madeline was about to lose it. He quickly grabbed her hips and pulled her out from the car, tugging a little harder as she held fast to the seat as if she’d drag it out with her. “Let me give it a shot. Take a breather,” he said as Madeline slapped at his hands to get him to let go. He did swiftly and put his hands up innocently as she straightened herself. “Go to the SUV,” he instructed as he looked down at her and she grabbed Everett’s hand. “I’ll be there in a second.”

Madeline huffed as she took Everett’s hand and headed toward the Tahoe, scooping up the duffle and backpack that she had unceremoniously tossed out of the car moments before. Everett had barely reacted when she told him they weren’t getting on the plane but were instead driving. He just blinked quietly at her which concerned her more, she would have preferred another breakdown even if it broke her heart compared to the silence. He didn’t even laugh at her as she yelled in frustration like he normally did when she had her little tantrums that Josephine had akin to E’s toddler tantrums; something he found highly entertaining.

Alex was muttering to himself as he followed the seatbelt lines to see if he could figure out where it hooked when he heard the snarl. It was quiet, almost lost on the wind, but he definitely heard it. He paused in his work and looked through the back window across the way from him and he saw the movement in the shadows. Slipping back out of the car he hustled back into a crouching position, slipping his M-16 back over his arm and bracing the butt against his shoulder. He looked over to the SUV where Madeline was still half in, helping Everett get up and loading the bags, she was oblivious.

“Get in the car!” Alex yelled as he saw one move around the side of the hangar. It would get there before he could. He aimed down his sights but he didn’t have the shot, it was stumbling as it ran and he knew his yell had caught the attention of the one he had spotted before. He couldn’t wait. Slamming the door shut, trying to make more noise to draw them to him, he began running for the SUV. It wasn’t far but he could hear the slapping of footsteps following him. These things were fast, too fast.

Madeline snapped her eyes up at Alex’s yell and it took her a second to figure out what he was yelling about before she saw it. There was one on the other side of the SUV in the hangar and she could see more moving up the airfield. They must have been drawn by the sound of the plane in the relative silence of the area. She didn’t hesitate, she climbed right in the backseat with Everett and slammed the door shut before looking at Alex running right for the car.

“Shit,” Madeline whined as she saw two of them right on Alex’s tail. He was going to need to dive in if he was going to avoid them, even just stopping to open the door could be the difference between life and death for him. She didn’t want to open the door by Everett because there was one still close in the hangar but she couldn’t just leave Alex either. Making a split-second decision she scrambled over the center console, her legs flailing as she hauled herself up. The bottoms of her wet shoes from the melted ice and snow slipped on the leather but she finally made it and she flopped on her stomach on the seat. Frantically she pulled on the door handle, fumbling with the lock before flinging the door open and hustling backwards to get out of the way.

Alex grabbed the SUV door as it opened and jumped in, throwing his gun at Madeline ahead of him before slamming the door quick and fast enough that he almost trapped his hand in it. The things collided with the metal less than a second later and the Tahoe rocked to the side a bit at the hard impact. He was panting as he stared at the window as two of them scrabbled and clawed at the glass, foaming blood from their mouth as they shrieked. Pushing his foot on the brake he hit the push start and the engine roared to life and the headlights lit up more of them running right at them.

“Put on your seatbelt,” Madeline instructed Everett as she righted herself in the passenger seat, holding the gun that was much too heavy in her hands. Her nephew hadn’t even screamed at the things attacking but instead looked at her puzzled for a second. He was obviously still waiting for his seat, never riding in the car without it before. Madeline gestured for him to hurry up before he reached for the belt and buckled himself in after fumbling with it for a second. She nodded at Alex who was looking at her before he hit the gas and they began moving.

There were a decent amount of the things running up the runway and Madeline stared as they flew past them, the V-8 engine roaring as they went back out the way they had come in. Josephine’s car was still sitting where they left it, the engine still running and lights on which drew the attention of some. They descended on it like ants and a few were ripping at the seats and things inside in an angry frenzy as if they were hunting for someone hiding inside.

“Thanks for getting the door,” Alex said after they turned back on the road before gesturing at the gun Madeline was still holding. Her hands were holding it tightly, though the look on her face portrayed unfamiliarity and a tinge of fear of it. “You can set that on the floorboard behind you,” he instructed and she stared at him, eyes darting to Everett who was sitting there. “Safety’s on,” he said with a small grin before holding his hand out to her to take it instead.

“I wasn’t going to leave you to fend for yourself,” Madeline answered simply as she hefted the gun over to him. She watched as he shifted it up one handed, despite the weight, and lifted it back behind their seats without taking his eyes off the road and set it on the floor. She peered behind her seat at the floorboard for a second before looking up at Everett who was leaning against his seatbelt to look at the gun at his feet. His legs were too short to touch the floor but it was still too close for her comfort as she pointed at Everett to sit back in his seat. “Don’t touch it,” she warned as he stared at her. “Lean back and try to get some sleep, we’ll be in the car for a bit.”

“We’re going to need gas before long,” Alex said quietly as Madeline turned back in her seat again to face front. Everett had leaned his head up against the car window and was staring out into the dark, his eyes growing heavier with every second. “Gaz said it low and looking at the gauge we’re at a quarter of a tank. I don’t want to get on backroads and run out. We need to avoid main roads for a bit,” he continued as Madeline pointed to where he needed to go next.

“There’s a 7-Eleven not far,” she stated looking back at Everett again whose eyes had finally shut. “I could use some water and he’s going to be hungry before long,” she reasoned just as her stomach gave a growl. “I guess me too,” she sighed and rubbed her stomach a bit.

“It needs to be in and out,” Alex said as he darted around a few slow cars, “I don’t want to get caught up in the mess as everyone starts raiding and trying to get supplies. Plus, crowds will just draw their attention,” he continued as he flipped the radio on low to see if there was anything else besides the emergency broadcast. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before the radios cut out altogether.

“My sister had a stack of cash stockpiled away,” Madeline explained, “I put it in her backpack. She’s, well, we used to poke fun at her preparing for the end of the world. I guess her line of work it sometimes felt like it, but I never thought it would happen,” she sighed running a hand through her hair which was a knotted mess from being whipped around in the wind. “We can just pay cash, get in and out. I don’t even know if I have my purse anymore, to be honest,” she sighed thinking about where she had last seen it.

“If there is even an attendant,” Alex said as he saw a sign for the convenience store. “Don’t linger around. I’ll fill up, you go get food and anything else you think we may need. If there is no one around just leave what you think is good. Or just walk out for that matter.” At the look on Madeline’s face, he shrugged, “I doubt anyone is going to arrest you for lifting some gatorades and gas station snacks. They’ve got other things to worry about.”

“I...well, fair,” Madeline conceded as they turned down the road that had the gas station and a few fast-food restaurants. The restaurants were still closed at this hour but the 7-Eleven was lit up brightly and Madeline saw another car there filling up their tank and two extra cans as well. “Do you have any of those?” She asked as she pointed at one of the red gas cans as Alex checked which side to park the car on to fill up.

“No,” he answered, “see if they have any inside. Wouldn’t be a bad idea to get an extra can or two.” He peered at the store, looking for any signs of distress, or those things, but everything seemed well. It was empty save for the other car and Alex climbed out first, careful to make direct eye contact with the man filling up so they were both aware of one another. And also noting they were both armed.

“I need to pee,” Everett piped up suddenly from the backseat and Madeline sighed. She knew he just wanted to go in the store and hustle her for some candy. But if he peed now, they wouldn’t have to stop for a while. “Please,” he whined as he undid his seatbelt.

“Fine,” Madeline said quickly as she watched Alex flip through his wallet and slip a card into the pump to start. He was leaning casually against the side of the car but she caught that his right hand was resting just above where his pistol sat strapped to his leg. “In and out. No playing,” she instructed as Everett rolled his eyes at her, “I mean it E. You go in, you go pee and you come right back out here to Alex.”

Everett opened the door and Alex’s head shot up as he saw the kid climb out before Madeline came around and held her hand out to him.

“Hang on,” Alex said as he pushed up from the car. “This isn’t a fun shopping trip,” he said as he looked at Everett who tugged on Madeline’s arm.

“I’m aware. He needs the bathroom,” Madeline said as Everett swung her arm impatiently “I’m going to let him go in and send him right back out to you,” she explained before giving a step as Everett tugged again.

“Give me a second and I’ll take him,” Alex reasoned as he stared at the gas pump. He still had a bit to go before it was full. He didn’t much like Madeline going in alone as it was, even if it was faster if they worked in tandem. Sending Everett with her was a whole other risk of security if something happened.

“I can go to the bathroom on my own,” Everett said impatiently.

“That’s not the issue,” Alex answered.

“We’ll be fine. Finish up here, I’ll send him out with a gas can,” Madeline offered as she looked around. Things were still quiet and the driver of the other car a row over was loading up one of his gas cans into his trunk. Soon it would just be them there. “I’ll be quick.”

Alex huffed; he didn’t like it but arguing was wasting time. He nodded once and watched them cross the small parking lot and head inside the store. He glanced at his watch on his wrist and decided they would get three minutes before he walked in there himself. Hanging his hand back down by his side he turned to look at the gas pump numbers steadily climbing.

“Go,” Madeline said as she came back out of the women’s bathroom, checking to make sure it was empty. Everett had protested wanting to use the men’s but Madeline put her foot down at that. He went in with a grumble and she turned around and walked to the closest aisle with the handbasket she had scooped up to start grabbing things. She was just putting things in the basket without paying attention, not really caring what it was just that it was some type of easy food. She peered around for the attendant and didn’t see one which made her uneasy but it was possible they were just in the back room or something.

Turning down another aisle Madeline glanced up at the rounded mirror on the ceiling to make sure she could still see the bathroom door as she browsed. She grabbed up some pain medication, her head was still pounding, and also decided that Pepto also wasn’t a bad idea with all this junk food. A few other little things like hygiene products, hand sanitizer, and even a map off an endcap hanger were tossed in the basket by the time Everett walked out shaking his hands. He didn’t like using the air dryers and she was guessing there weren’t any paper towels.

“Right out to Alex,” Madeline instructed as she pointed to the door, snatching up a gas can in the car section they passed. Everett nodded before grabbing something he wanted from the front counter, a bag of Skittles, and holding them to her. She sighed and tossed it in the basket before watching him walk toward the automatic doors and out to the parking lot. Alex was watching him, he made brief eye contact with Madeline and nodded and she turned back into the store to continue.

“Thanks,” Alex said as Everett handed the can to him before he opened the door for the kid. He indicated for Everett to climb in and gave him a small boost with how high the step up was. “Did she say how long she’d be?” Alex asked as he watched Everett climb to the very back row to sprawl out and lay down.

“No, she had a lot in the basket though,” Everett answered as he yawned and stretched out a bit. “How far are we going?”

“Long ways,” Alex answered as the pump finally clicked off. It was a wonder anyone could afford to fill these things on the regular. He shifted the pump to fill the gas can now before glancing over his shoulder to do another area sweep. The guy that was filling up the other car was gone and Alex whirled to see where he had gotten off to. “Damn it,” Alex muttered as he looked at Everett who was settled in. “Stay in the car,” he ordered pointing at the kid who nodded at him. He slammed the door shut and locked it before jogging toward the store.

Madeline was grabbing drinks in the back when the sound of the automatic door opened again. She turned to see who it was but didn’t spot anyone. She threw a few more gatorades in the basket, a few iced coffees, and some plain water when she heard steps approaching. She figured it was Alex and she opened her mouth to tell him she was almost done when she realized it was not him. It was the guy they had seen filling up his car, he was eyeing her as he opened a cooler to grab a drink himself. Not wanting to linger Madeline shut her mouth and turned away, heading back up toward the front. But he shut the cooler door and followed her.

Shifting tactics, sure she was being paranoid, Madeline ventured back to the personal hygiene aisle. She stopped specifically in front of the feminine products. He followed a bit too close for comfort and she dared to dart her eyes over to him as she blindly grabbed things and threw them in the basket. He was staring and she realized he had blocked her way out of the aisle unless she went further back into the store, further away from the store exit.

“Can I help you?” Madeline finally asked as she turned to face him fully. She had learned in her years growing up that men did not like being confronted by people they were leering at. Eye contact made them extremely uncomfortable when a woman stood up for themselves. “Wife need pads?” She asked holding up a pack sarcastically before tossing it into her basket. “Tampons?” She nudged a box as the guy stepped closer.

“I want what you have,” the guy answered simply as he shifted his jacket back to show the gun in his waistband. “All of it. The gas, the SUV, your guy’s guns,” he smirked. “You can come along to, leave the kid though.”

Alex was in the store and he paused at the rain mat looking around to see if he could see Madeline. There was no one working at the counter and he paused as he heard voices then a very strained voice call out his name. Alex felt his stomach drop a bit as he unholstered his pistol and looked for the mirrors to see if he could find her quickly as he walked.

Madeline had gambled that the second time the doors had opened that evening it was Alex coming in now. She knew she had been gone too long and he was hopefully coming to corral her back to the car. If it was someone else that was with this guy she knew she was screwed. Condoms and pregnancy tests were not ideal self-defense items.

“I’ll be staying with my nephew in our SUV,” Madeline answered a bit louder than needed. “And my guy,” she said sarcastically, “is our military escort. I would suggest you rethink what you are demanding.” Her eyes darted up to the mirror and she saw Alex headed her way, he was two aisles away. He had his pistol raised and ready but met her eyes in the reflection with a small nod. “Go back out to your car, and take these with you,” she snapped before throwing a package of pH wipes at the guy to distract him so he would instinctively reach out and catch them being thrown at his face. He did. Taking the diversion, Madeline darted down the back of the aisle and she heard the guy snarl and attempt to come after her.

“I wouldn’t try it,” Alex answered as he came up behind the guy. His voice was even and calm but he purposely flipped the safety off on his pistol so the click could be heard. The man had reached for his own gun but stopped as he turned around with his hands slightly raised looking at Alex. “We’re leaving,” he glanced at Madeline who was at the other end of the aisle behind the edge peering at him. He nodded his head toward the door and she listened without hesitation. She went right toward the door, not even pausing to drop money on the counter.

“You come out that door in less than a minute I will drop you,” Alex warned the guy as he stared him down. “I won’t miss either,” he tacked on and when the guy nodded Alex lowered his gun a fraction of an inch. “Don’t-“ Alex warned as the man went for the pistol in his waistband.

Madeline heard Alex say 'don't' followed by three gunshots in rapid succession. She flinched and whirled back around to go into the store, having been almost out the door.

"Alex?!" Madeline yelled out as she doubled back to find him, dread filling her as only silence met her ears.

[puckness]

my singing monsters high school au fanfic

uhm. in a my singing monsters server where we have a highschool au, wanted to write a story or fanfic about it so here it is

“AAAHHHH!! What the HELL did you do to my hair?” Cried Galvana. “Chill out! All I did was put my own twist on it, you don’t have to make a big deal out of it.” “A big deal? Seriously Attmoz, I look like a divorced man!” Galvana wasn’t necessarily wrong, her hair ruffled and messy just like Attmoz. “You know I can’t go to school looking like this! Unlike you I have a representation, and a good one at that.” “Oh, a good one? Little Miss goes to the office almost everyday has a favorable representation?” Argued Attmoz, his school didn’t exactly portray him accurately after multiple instances of forgetting he was even a student. “Psshh, I mean popularity dork. My name is known and remembered by literally everyone in Big Bl-""You know they only remember you for being an absolute nightmare to deal with right? I could counter what you’re saying by stating that no one remembers me, which is still technically positive since they don’t view me in a negative light.” Galvana fell silent, she was angry that Attmoz was right. He doesn’t put effort into anything at all except trying to prove her wrong! “Whatever, you better fix my hair though! I’m not stepping foot in the building until you make me look refreshed and not like a slob.” Attmoz didn’t want to succumb, but knowing that Galvana could strike him at any moment eventually made him give in.

Once Attmoz cooperated they got into his car, which was messy and crusty. Galvana had helped him clean it just two days ago, how did it get this bad in that short time span? “Attmoz you have got to be kidding me. When I clean my room it’s clean for at least 2 weeks! Have you got a raccoon living here or something because what do you even do to get it this disgusting?” She gagged, holding up a wrapper that she had seemed to forget when she was cleaning. “You call this bad? You should see my drawers, but it seems like you’re too short to even reach them.” Attmoz chuckled, emphasizing on the word short. Galvana grunted angrily, she was always like this towards her older brother. This time it was more prominent how annoyed she was with him, Attmoz wanted to make it worse to tease her but decided to drop it after he noticed the time. They got to their school quicker than expected, maybe it’s because Attmoz had broken multiple speed limits without being caught. He pulled to the front of Galvana’s school and dropped her off, sending her into school with a teasing snicker before pulling into his highschool’s parking lot.

The moment Galvana saw her brother exit the school’s premises she ran inside almost instantly, ignoring the safety patrol’s team calls and rushing to her locker. She typed in her code and opened it violently, almost taking the whole locker off of its hinges. Galvana looked into the mirror nailed into the door of the locker, grabbing a spray out of her bag and spraying it onto her hair while brushing it swiftly. “Aww.. did mom not have enough time to do your hair today? Or does she just not care for you?” Spoke a voice behind her, Galvana turned around and saw no one. Then she looked down, it was Plixie. “You have no room to talk imp. At least my mother still lives in the same house as me.” Plixie gasped sharply, he was about to make a comeback when the bell rang, he gave her the death stare and flew away like a mosquito drawn to blood. Galvana quickly slammed her locker and sped walk to her class, still spraying and caressing her hair.

She opened her class’s door with a powerful kick, sitting down at the first empty spot and finally finishing fixing her hair. There were a lot of overlapping voices throughout the whole classroom, Scaratar and Loodvigg were talking in the back as usual while Blassoom was infodumping about ecosystems to Hornacle. Galvana usually had someone to talk to, but ever since Vhamp had skipped a grade she found herself bored; even if she did have other friends she enjoyed talking to Vhamp the most and missed them.

She looked up from her desk and noticed the teacher wasn’t in the classroom, her gaze fell on the doorframe and Galvana hurriedly got up and walked to the door. She stared at the doorknob for a few seconds before twisting it with force, exiting the classroom and sprinting to her school's front doors.

BBB Middle School’s safety patrol team was working on securing the doors until a sudden flash had gone through their way. They didn’t care enough to worry about it, soon locking the doors and going to their class. Galvana scurried her way to the highschool which was next to the middle school’s building, she knew her way in. She unhinged a window and crawled into the first floor, looking for a gold and blue pipe organ. Galvana wandered around the various hallways and doors before finally finding Vhamp, she almost immediately threw herself onto them. “Vhamp!! Hi! How are you doing? Is Attmoz messing with you? How are classes?” Galvana asked frantically, she had been acting like she hadn't seen Vhamp in several years! “Oh. Hello, I’m doing nice. Uh. I don’t know who Attmoz is and classes are fine.” Vhamp generally sounded uninterested in what she had asked, but that’s how they always sounded. “Great!! I don’t usually uh, ask for favors but could you hide me somewhere? It’s boring in middle school..” “You asked me that on Friday.” “Did not, but please? It’s really dull without you vhampsie..” Galvana’s tone confused Vhamp, it almost sounded like she was joking when she wasn’t. Vhamp eventually ceased and brought her to their class, trying their best to hide her in their open back.

“Ugghhh… I hate math, they should’ve stopped at fractions!” wailed out a familiar voice, their tone snobbish and complaining. Galvana didn’t want to think who it was, but when Vhamp had rolled into the room it was who she had suspected. Her older brother, Attmoz. “Its okay Moz’, it’ll pass eventually!” “...Yeah, I guess you’re right, Glaish. Though math is still a horri… GALVANA?” Attmoz quickly rose from his slouched resting position, springing to his feet instantaneously and started squinting his one eye. “Attmoz? Eww, god how does your look change so quickly? You look absolutely rancid!” Galvana spoke strongly, she genuinely sounded disgusted. “Oh, is he not supposed to look like that? He has always looked like this arriving at school, every single day for every 180 days of school.” Vhamp said, unfazed until they saw Galvana’s infuriated face. “So… Every. Single. Day. He comes to school looking like this huh…? Even when I spend more time on his ‘delicate’ and ‘elegant’ hair than I do on my whole look..”

Galvana was obviously trying to hide her impatience for Attmoz, it not working with Attmoz visibly sweating. Attmoz was 2 years older than her, but she could very well strike him into a pile of ash at any given time. “Nono, look you’ve got it all wrong sis! It’s actually becau…because of a phenomenon of my species! You see, we’re known to always look like this, no matter how hard we try! You’ve just gotta believe me dudette.." Attmoz’s resonance was convincing to Glaishur and Vhamp, but Galvana didn’t buy it. "It’s not your species' fault. I swear Attmoz when we get home I am going t-” The school’s speakers blared their loud seemingly hissing noise, a few mic taps later and the grown voice on the other end had finally spoken. “Galvana Celestialia to the principal’s office. Now.” Galvana froze for a few seconds before letting out a loud, exasperated groan. She freed herself from Vhamp’s back and groggily walked out of the door, trying to distract herself from Attmoz’s obnoxious giggling behind her.

When she got into the hallway she looked to her left, then her right and repeated this process several times before finally making a run for it; crawling out of the same window and back into the middle school through another window. Galvana darted towards her class in a blur, bursting the door open with an electrical force so hard she almost fell to the floor. Her teacher was undaunted, so Galvana sat in the seat she was originally in and slumped over her desk, rapidly panting.

“Hey.. are you okay? You seemed to run into our classroom more hastily than usual, did they finally catch you?” Galvana fixated her glare towards the voice, which was Blassoom. They had seemed to try to keep it low, their voice a mere whisper from the teacher’s. “Yuupp.. That principal’s got a way with their voice because damn their voice was harsh.” Galvana tried to make her voice sound unserious, although it didn’t work since Blassoom still looked fairly concerned. “Oh.. Do you know what monster they could be? Ooh, maybe Candelavra! They’re portrayed to be feisty right?” “Hm.. maybe. I’ll ask my brother to look in it, thanks for asking by the way.” “No problem, just tell me if you feel down okay? Our greenhouse has a wide range of comforting and welcoming monsters! They both nodded in agreement and turned back to the teacher, who had seemed to be lost in their words and only paid attention to the board. Galvana let out an overexaggerated sigh, Mondays were the worst, what else could possibly be in store for her?

[amtrak12]

Fanfic Meta: First Draft vs Final Draft w/ Examples (2/2)

Part 2 of my meta post on first draft vs final draft using Chapter 10 of my Lucifer fic “Can We Keep Her” as an example. Part 1 can be found here.

Scene is below the cut. Bolded text is a part I wanted to specifically reference in my commentary at the end. The text was not bolded in the published version.

Despite her repeated reassurances this morning, Chloe was late returning for lunch. Thankfully, Rory didn’t notice. Her stomach had declared lunch two hours earlier, and so, full and happy, she played with Trixie’s old toys, unconcerned with who was and wasn’t there. When Chloe did finally arrive, she rushed off the elevator looking stressed and tossing out a dozen apologies for each step she took.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, we had a last minute interview that, of course, could only be scheduled over the guy’s lunch break, never mind my own.”

Lucifer felt a pang of jealousy that she’d interviewed another suspect without him, a pang that deepened when the Detective’s gaze skirted right past him to search for the infant.

“Rory? I’m back — whoa….” Chloe spotted the large blanket fort that had taken over his living room. “You two have been busy.”

“The infant doesn’t have an off switch,” Lucifer dryly replied. His sarcasm was upstaged by said infant crawling out of the fort and squealing at Chloe.

“Mommy!”

Chloe grinned. “Monkey!” She dropped to her knees as Rory sprinted over to tackle her in a big hug. “Ohhh, I’ve missed you so much!” She squeezed Rory tightly. “Have you been having fun with Daddy?”

“With Lucifer,” he instantly corrected her. “Get her to say my name.”

“Right, sorry.” The Detective glanced up at him with more of an eye roll than an apology.

Rory giggled. “He’s silly.”

“Oh, just so silly,” Chloe agreed in that tooth-achingly sugary voice.

Lucifer wanted to argue. Better yet, he wanted to rage and vent. Between the two of them, couldn’t Chloe tell he was the one in distress? Certainly not the pampered infant. But before he could even utter an indignant ‘excuse me’, he realized how fruitless it would be. The Detective’s attention was focused exclusively on Rory. In fact, she looked relieved to see the girl which made matters so much worse.

Had he been too quick to believe her when she’d said she’d still trusted him? Was she not stressed over work but over the infant’s safety after leaving the girl in his care? But there was no interrogation, no pointed questions, no checking the infant over for injury. Chloe and the girl simply chatted the way Chloe would chat with her daughter after a school day. Nothing more, nothing less.

The revelation hit him like the reluctant understanding of the damned. Chloe really had missed the infant this morning. That’s why she was so relieved to see her now. She wasn’t patronizing the girl. She’d truly, honestly missed her.

As baffling as that was (Lucifer was quite sure he would never, ever miss the girl and wished she would disappear from the face of the earth right now), a second, more unsettling, thought slithered into his mind right behind it. Someone else should be missing Rory, too. If — as impossible as it was — his father hadn’t made the girl after all… if Rory was actually his daughter… then somewhere out there she had a mother. Someone who had taken care of Rory before the girl was dropped on his doorstep, someone who must have loved her very much given how healthy and spoiled the girl was. Was she worrying about Rory at this very minute?

Lucifer tried to shove the thought away, but it clung to him as tightly as the infant’s sticky, pinching hands.

“Oh, guess what?” Rory announced. “I got a new car seat.”

“You did?” Chloe said.

“Yeah, it’s almost as good as ours,” the girl said. “But it’s orange so it’s also better.”

“You got an orange car seat?”

“It has orange straps,” Lucifer clarified. “But she still had to play Goldilocks with the dozen other models at the store before she decided the orange one was the best.”

Chloe grinned like the infant’s fussiness was a delightful discovery.

“You’re picky, aren’t you?” she teased the girl.

Rory giggled at the tone and, far too proudly, replied, “Thank you!”

The Detective laughed and stood up with the girl in her arms. “Have you eaten lunch yet? Are you hungry?”

All smiles evaporated as Rory fell into a serious pout. “No, I haven’t eaten at all.”

“Liar!” Lucifer said with a scowl. He told Chloe, “She ate a peanut butter and banana sandwich the second we got home. She insisted on it.”

“Well, maybe she’s still hungry,” Chloe said.

“Well, maybe she shouldn’t have her thrown her plate of snacks on the floor,” Lucifer countered.

Chloe frowned, but, infuriatingly, it was his actions she questioned, not the three year old’s. “How many snacks did you give her?”

“One of each just like the Urchin suggested,” Lucifer said. “She declared fudge-striped cookies was the winner before she’d even sampled half of them. Then, when I wouldn’t hand over the rest of the package like she requested, she got pissy with me and flipped her plate right off the table.”

Chloe bit back a smirk. “Wow, that is so much funnier when it’s not my kid.” She turned to the infant and said, “Rory, we don’t throw things to get our way. That’s not how it works, okay?”

The manipulative infant curled sadly into Chloe’s shoulder. “But I cleaned it up.”

“After I made you! And I still had to go back over it myself,” Lucifer said. To Chloe, he added, “She’s terrible with a broom.”

For some frustrating reason, Chloe’s smirk grew. “Wow, look at you doling out sandwiches and punishments.”

“Because I’m the Devil.”

“So, you make peanut butter and banana sandwiches?” Chloe teased.

“So, I punish people!” Lucifer finally snapped. “That’s my job! I’m not a bloody father!”

The teasing slipped off the Detective’s face, but it did nothing to appease his anger. Then, the damn infant opened her mouth to make a fool of him once again.

“I think Daddy needs a nap.”

The corner of Chloe’s lips twitched upwards again, and Lucifer slammed his hands down on the bar.

“That’s it, I’ve changed my mind.” He glared at Rory. “Feel free to go out on the balcony any time you like, infant — in fact, please, let’s head out there now. Maybe you’ll tumble over the railing and I won’t have to see you anymore.

He marched off to the balcony. For the first time in days, he unlocked the doors and stepped outside. A blast of dry wind hit him and grabbed him by the chest. It felt like he hadn’t been outside — truly outside — in days either. Stepping out to run errands with the infant didn’t count. Lucifer needed space to breathe, space to be free. The penthouse wasn’t safe anymore, not with the infant around. It didn’t belong to him. Nothing belonged to him lately. Not his relationship with the Detective, not his home, not even his own bloody body now that his wings were back. It was all Dad’s, Dad’s, Dad’s.

He glared up into the cloudless sky. “You’re probably laughing it up right now, aren’t you, Dad?” The urge to throw or punch swept over him, but there was nothing around to hit. “Fuck!”

Chloe walked out onto the balcony, and Lucifer cursed again.

“Oh, perfect. What’s the lecture this time, Detective? Don’t curse in front of the infant? Don’t raise your voice?”

“I’m just checking on you,” Chloe said calmly.

“Right,” Lucifer scoffed. “You left the infant alone, you know.”

“She’s picking up her toys so we can eat lunch in the blanket fort.”

The damn brat really was picking up. Lucifer could see her through the window. He didn’t know why he was surprised by that. Of course, she would be cleaning up; the infant always listened to what Chloe said. In fact, Chloe should just take the girl to live with her since they got along so well. She could have two daughters, and he could go back to having none. It would suit him just fine.

He shook his head and stared out over the balcony railing.

“Lucifer, what happened?” Chloe asked. “Has Rory been acting out? Did she cause trouble during your therapy appointment?”

“Oh, she certainly did that,” he said. “The little worm broke Linda and made her completely useless to me again. And then she accused me of not listening!”

Chloe frowned. “Rory or Linda?”

“Rory,” Lucifer snapped. “Who do you think has been driving me up the wall all day? It’s all Rory, Rory, Rory!”

In a neutral tone, Chloe said, “Yeah, three year olds are a lot of work.”

“Work I’m not supposed to be doing, because she’s not supposed to be here!” Lucifer said. “Dr. Linda couldn’t wrap her head around it. Kept asking me how a baby angel happened, like I have all the answers. Well, guess what, Detective? I don’t! I don’t have any bloody idea how or why there’s a baby angel walking around on Earth. You know who probably does? My Father!” He turned and shouted up at the sky. “But of course, you won’t share that answer with us, will you, Dad? Because when do you ever do that?”

“Lucifer—“

“You’ll just sit up there, watching from on high, judging us as we all fuck up whatever plans you made.” He gave a wild laugh. “Or worse, we’re all playing right into your hands again. Is that what this? Another game?”

“Lucifer!”

The heat of Chloe’s hand on his arm froze the breath in his throat. He looked back at her, still shaking with too much rage.

“Stop,” Chloe said. “There’s no point in yelling at your Father. He’s not here right now.”

“Exactly why I’m yelling at Him!” Lucifer said. “He’s screwing with my head again, and I’m bloody sick of it!”

“Rory is the one who’s here right now.”

“But she isn’t supposed to be!” Lucifer argued. “Baby angels don’t exist. Fact. End of story.”

“And yet she does! And she’s inside, right now“

“She’s a mutant,” Lucifer said. “Or an experiment or a mistake that my Father—“

“Stop it!” Chloe cut in. “Stop trying to explain it when we don’t have an explanation.”

Lucifer threw his hands up in the air. “News flash, Detective, that’s exactly what everyone is doing! Every single person including you keep insisting that she’s my daughter. Well, what makes that explanation any more true than mine?”

The frustration slipped from Chloe’s face. The argument halted.

“You’re right.”

“What?”

“We are all jumping to conclusions,” Chloe said. “None of us actually know what’s true.”

Was she really agreeing with him? That was… disorienting.

“So… Rory’s not my daughter now?” he asked. “We’re going to stop assuming she is?”

“We’re going to stop assuming anything,” Chloe said, “and instead treat this like one of our cases.”

Lucifer’s confusion deepened. “The infant hasn’t murdered anyone. She’s just annoying.”

Chloe replied, “No, not treating it like a murder. I mean just in general. If this was a case, then we would need to back up and start gathering evidence with an open mind instead of only looking for the evidence that fits our theory.”

“Your theory is impossible!”

“Every theory for Rory’s existence sounds impossible,” Chloe argued back. “God creating a toddler angel for the first time in all of history? That sounds ridiculous.”

Petulantly, Lucifer said, “It could’ve been my mother.”

“Which is as equally impossible as an angel having a child, by the sounds of it,” Chloe said. “So, we should stop looking for what is or isn’t possible and instead focus on figuring out what explanation best fits the evidence.”

Oh, he did not like where she was going with this. The only evidence they had right now was Rory’s white wings and the DNA results.

“But that just brings us back to me being her father.”

Chloe nodded. “So, we pursue the lead.”

“That’s not a lead. It’s slander,” Lucifer said, but the Detective ignored him.

“If you’re really Rory’s father, then that means she has a mother,” Chloe said. “A human mother right here on Earth that we can track down.”

“If there is a mother to track down.”

“I know, but we have try.” Chloe asked him, “You don’t happen to have a little black book somewhere listing everyone you slept with about 4 years ago, do you?”

He didn’t. But he could easily make one. Lucifer didn’t forget a face, but in this moment, he wished he could.

“It’s a long list,” he warned, on the needle-thin chance the Detective would balk at pursuing this line of investigation.

But even that needle-thin chance was destroyed when Chloe simply shrugged. “Yeah, I remember how long your list of sexual partners was for eight weeks. I can estimate what a whole year is going to look like.” She turned thoughtful. “But we might not even need the full year if Rory knows what her birthday is. Have you tried asking her?”

“Even if she did, there’s no telling we can believe….” He trailed off as he glimpsed Rory through the balcony window. The girl had her face pressed up against the glass, mouth spread open, as she made distorted faces at them.

“Rory!” he barked. “Knock that off! You’re smudging the glass.”

The infant jumped back from the window. She tensed when Chloe looked over as well and clasped her hands behind her back to feign innocence.

But Chloe didn’t scold the girl. Instead, she wrinkled her nose with a conspiratorial smile and beckoned the girl outside. Rory brightened into a grin and ran for the door.

“Don’t actually let her out here!” Lucifer complained. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier.” But he was ignored. Rory excitedly ran onto the balcony, and Chloe picked her up to carry her on her hip.

“Hi, monkey. Did you finish cleaning up?”

The infant pointed at the city skyline behind Chloe’s shoulder and cooed, “Pretty.”

“Yeah, it is pretty,” Chloe said. “Lucifer has a really nice view, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Then, Rory’s face fell into a perfect mimicry of pitiful sadness. “Daddy, I broke a blanket.”

Lucifer had already grown accustomed to not understanding seventy-five percent of what the girl said, but this wasn’t fantastical imaginings or potential fortune telling. It was just run-of-the-mill infant nonsense.

“You broke a blanket,” he repeated. Nope, it didn’t make any more sense when he said it.

“Yeah, it fell down.”

He rolled his eyes. “So, you broke the blanket fort.”

“Aw, well we can fix that for you,” Chloe said. She kissed the girl’s cheek which earned her another grin. “Are you ready for your second lunch now?”

“Yeah! I’m so hungry.”

“Oh, you’re so hungry. You poor thing,” the Detective baby-talked to the girl.

Joy once again radiated from Chloe as she carried Rory inside. Lucifer’s mood, though, darkened. He understood why Chloe was so determined to find the girl’s mother, and it wasn’t to gather more evidence to explain the girl’s existence. No, Chloe saw a lost and helpless child who’d been abandoned, and she wanted to get justice for the girl.

But Lucifer wasn’t convinced it was the girl’s mother who should be punished.

------------

My Thoughts:

Okay, we see the difference here, right? The scene is certainly longer, yes. (2525 vs 1936 words) And while some of that is just the difference between how I write first drafts vs final drafts (again, *points to self* underwriter) — the main reason, the final draft is longer is simply because Lucifer has more to contribute to the story at this point in time. His version is meatier. There’s more going on. There’s more conflict -- which I did not expect, honestly. Like yes, he’s more conflicted about Rory at this point in time, but I didn’t realize he was going to snap in the middle there even though it fits into the larger picture of this chapter.

These things always seem obvious in retrospect, but my initial thought process was:

Ugh, my brain is tired from rewriting Linda’s scene for the fifth time. I have no idea what this last Chloe scene needs :/

Wait… should I maybe write this from Lucifer’s POV? Would that help me?

*plays with Lucifer’s POV in my head, considering the ways it shifts the scene until Lucifer gets frustrated and I realize “OH” there’s something here.*

And that’s when I rewrote it from Lucifer’s POV. I like strong emotions. Strong emotions typically mean I’m onto something. Strong emotions that don’t resolve themselves mean I’m missing something, and I definitely couldn’t resolve Lucifer’s frustration initially. I had the bit about Rory and the snacks, Chloe teasing Lucifer, and Lucifer snapping. I had him ranting on the balcony, and I knew it would still resolve with the decision to search for Rory’s birth mother (now decided in the scene and not already decided by Lucifer before the scene). But that transition from rant to resolution wasn’t there. I thought Chloe needed to talk him down somehow, and it just wasn’t working.

And then I found the pivot point which I’ve bolded above. Chloe doesn’t calm him down or make him see reason or convince him of anything. She’s the one who gives in. Lucifer’s making good points. Rory’s impossible, we can’t make assumptions — okay then why does everyone keep assuming she’s his daughter? And I already wanted to make the comparison to how they work their cases. I included that in the original draft. But this version is better. It’s not just suggested this time, it’s a solution to an argument. Lucifer’s conflict isn’t fully resolved still, but it’s not supposed to be at this point in the story. All this scene needed to do was move them to the next step of the plot (searching the wrong year for Rory’s birth mother). Both versions do that, but this one also supports Lucifer’s emotional journey.

It also still shows Chloe’s parental feelings for Rory, and probably shows them better than the first draft. 1) They are strong feelings, and like I said, I do find strong feelings easier to show through an outside perspective. And 2) Lucifer is very observant of Chloe and every little thing she does or says. He may not interpret them correctly, but he sees them. (Unrelated to this example scene, but this is also why I use his POV to show similarities between Rory’s and Chloe’s mannerisms and facial expressions. Chloe wouldn’t notice them because she doesn't see her own facial expressions on a daily basis -- but Lucifer does, and he'll notice when Rory makes some of the same expressions. So, I've had fun slipping those extra time travel/Chloe is Rory's mother clues into his POV.)

The final, big improvement: even more Rory cuteness. I love her making faces against the balcony window. I love the info about her throwing her plate because Lucifer wouldn’t give her more cookies. Saying “I broke a blanket” when she knocked over part of the blanket fort is way more ‘three year old’ than saying “fix it” when the TV show stops playing. And I absolutely adore her exaggerated play-acting to get her way. I’ve demonstrated that trait in previous chapters because it’s a fun clue to Rory’s origins that also doubles as a red herring for the characters. It seems like she inherited Lucifer’s charisma, but it’s actually the acting gene from Chloe’s side shining through. But I don’t just use it for the dramatic irony. A not-insignificant part of the time travel reveal is them realizing how they misinterpreted this specific clue and feeling like they should have realized Chloe was Rory’s mother so much earlier. So, the more chances I have to emphasize Rory’s acting skills, the better.

I think the only thing I lost when switching POVs was the info that Chloe wasn't late for lunch because she was interviewing a suspect (which is what Lucifer assumes). She was late because she was interviewing a family member of the victim (which Chloe knew and could share with the reader when it was in her POV). I wish I had still found a way to convey that info in Lucifer's POV, but it doesn't truly affect the plot. All that information does is confirm Chloe isn't making headway on this case which helps justify Pierce taking it away from her in Chapter 11. But that doesn't exactly need justification. Since this is a canon case, the reader already knows the second victim was never killed so Chloe is missing the connection to Lucifer that she would need to solve the case. And also Pierce doesn't take the case away from Chloe because she's being too slow at solving it. He takes it away from her to prevent her from solving it since murdering people Lucifer did favors for no longer serves his goals.

Final note, I believe there are still improvements I can make to this scene, however I'm posting this WIP on a set schedule and I just ran out of time. With all the rewrites Chapters 8 and 10 required, Lucifer's version of this final scene didn't get to incubate as long as I would like so I haven't quite worked out why it still feels a little choppy and how to fix it. I think the transition to the balcony needs work. I think there should probably be a more explicit agreement from Lucifer about searching for Rory's birth mother. Little things like that. The content is all there. The scene does it's job. It's just not quite as polished as I like my scenes to be before I publish them.

Still, I hope it demonstrated the difference between a first and final draft. I also hope my insights into why I wrote both versions the way I did were helpful, whether you're reading it the day I post it or years in the future. :)

If I find other examples or topics I want to talk through, I will certainly make posts about them. If you have specific writing meta topics you'd like to explore, feel free to ask me. I may not have proper answers because I'm just a fanfic writer. But also I've been writing/trying to write fanfic for like 20 years, so I do have some experience to pull from ;)

Oh and if you remember that large-ass table of meta links from LiveJournal, please for the love of the old school internet, can you send me the link or the wayback link or anything you might have? There was some good shit there :( Thank you!

[silver-rings-and-rabbits]

Open Heart 2 - Chapter 14

Returning to Normal

TW: This chapter references sexual assault

Rafael woke to the sound of birdsong. The room was light with the dawn and the outside world was quiet, except for the odd car driving past. Despite not sleeping until late, he felt better than he had in a long time though he suspected most of that was down to the fact Matthew was lying right beside him. Raf’s arm was dead where Matthew had been sleeping on it, but he didn’t care; if all Matthew needed was a long cuddle and a good night’s sleep, Raf would move heaven and earth to get him that.

The ringing of a phone interrupted the quiet. Matthew jerked, then scrambled out of bed to the dresser, where Raf had placed his belongings the night before when he showered. Rafael yelped as blood rushed back into his arm.

“’Ello?” Matthew said, blearily. “Oh, hi Sienna.”

Rafael reached over to turn on the bedside lamp, smiling as Matthew blinked in the sudden light. He was adorably confused and his hair was scruffy.

“Yeah, I’m OK. I went to Raf’s straight after the funeral.” Whatever Sienna said next made Matthew smile and blush. “Yeah we are.”

Rafael – still rubbing pins and needles out of his arm – pulled back the covers for Matthew to come back to bed. He did so, and instantly joined in rubbing his arm.

“Hang on…do you want to say hi?”

Matthew tapped the screen and held out the phone. Sienna’s voice came out the speakers: “Hi Raf!”

“Hi Sienna. Sorry I stole Matthew for the night.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I just wanted to check he was OK. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing alright now.” Raf squeezed closer to Matthew. “What about you?”

Sienna made a sound like she was trying not to cry. Matthew and Raf glanced at each other.

“Yesterday was hard,” Sienna sniffled. “But everyone says the worst is over so…I guess we just have to get through it.” She cleared her throat. “Jackie and Aurora are working today, Elijah and I have the day off. We were thinking about going to see Kyra later.”

“Do you need me to come home at all?” Matthew asked, uncertainly.

“No! God no, don’t hurry back on our account,” Sienna gasped. Raf felt slightly relieved. “You two should enjoy your day together, we’ll see you later. Sorry I called you in such a panic.”

“That’s OK. I’m sorry I didn’t text.”

The three of them said their goodbyes and Sienna hung up. Matthew placed the phone on the bedside table and turned to Raf, shifting enough to let him snuggle into his arms.

“Sorry about that,” he sighed. “Did it wake you?”

“No, I woke up a few minutes before. What time is it?”

“Just after seven. Do we have to get up?”

“Well, Vovó probably won’t be up for at least another hour…”

“Perfect. Is your arm OK?”

“Just a little numb, but it’s fine now.” He smiled. “You were worth it.”

Matthew chuckled and kissed Raf’s forehead. They didn’t say much else, just enjoying each other’s company in the sounds of the morning. Matthew loved how protective Raf's arms around him felt, but having Rafael curled into his chest turned out to be just as comforting. He kissed Raf again and smoothed his hair, hoping he could provide even a fraction of the sense of safety that Raf always brought him.

They stayed in that peaceful bubble until the minutes ticked over to 8AM when Raf stretched and smiled up at him.

“Are you hungry? Do you want breakfast?”

“That sounds great.”

Matthew noticed Raf moving cautiously as he got out of bed and changed into fresh clothes. He had spare clothes for Matthew to borrow; he was only a few inches taller than him after all.

Juliana’s door was still closed and Raf hesitated briefly before deciding not to wake her. It wasn’t just he and Matthew who’d been having sleep problems.

“What do you feel like?” Rafael asked as they entered the kitchen. “I don’t eat a huge amount at the moment, but Vovó always has a lot of food.”

“Woah.” Matthew had opened the fridge to find several stacks of egg boxes. Rafael chuckled.

“Dr Mirani suggested I up my protein and iron intake so Vovó went a bit overboard. You should see how much meat she has in the freezer.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Matthew said, reaching for a carton. “Scrambled eggs?”

“Sure.”

“Three eggs between us? What do you think?”

“That’s fine, we can always make more.”

Matthew went to break the eggs when Raf stopped him.

“Actually…can I cook? Vovó usually takes charge in the kitchen.”

“If you’d prefer.”

Matthew watched as Raf – still moving slowly and cautiously – broke and whisked three eggs in a bowl, then poured the mixture into a small pan.

“It’s not too much living with your grandma, is it?”

“No, no. She’s actually been very held-back. I think if she had her way, I’d be on 24/7 bedrest.” He smiled. “I have to remind her that I need to be regaining my independence, so if I get the chance to cook, I will.”

This was fine by Matthew, and he prepared toast and tea as Raf added small tomatoes and a selection of herbs to the pan. He kept glancing over at him, noticing how nice it was to see him just going about a mundane morning without the threat of him leaving, or someone else between them. Matthew wanted to hug him again…and then remembered he could.

“I forgot how affectionate you could sometimes get,” Rafael smiled, leaning back into Matthew’s touch as he hugged him from behind.

“Do you not like it? Because I can stop,” Matthew said, kissing Raf’s cheek. “Just say the word.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” Raf said, warmly. “I’m really happy to have you here.”

“Me too.”

Matthew squeezed him one more time and then let go for Raf to take the eggs off the heat and divide it between the toast slices. Taking their plates and mugs to the table, they sat down and clinked their mugs together before digging in. It tasted good, the herbs providing a burst of extra flavour, something Matthew had never thought to add to his own food when he cooked at home.

“Good morning you two.”

Juliana had just walked in, wrapped in a light purple dressing gown. She looked better than she had the night before and the two of them greeted her enthusiastically.

“Did you sleep OK?”

“Can we get you anything?”

“No, neither of you move,” She said, waving them off. “I can sort myself out. And yes, I slept quite well, thank you.” She started slicing up a grapefruit at the counter as Raf and Matthew finished their own breakfast. “By the way, Matthew, I put your clothes in the drier. I’ll run the iron over them and they’ll be good as new.”

“You don’t have to do that…”

“But I will.”

Raf squeezed Matthew’s hand under the table and whispered “Don’t fight it, she’s made up her mind.”

Juliana settled at the table and sprinkled sugar over her grapefruit.

“Will you be staying here for the rest of the day? Rafael’s parents will be coming over for dinner when they finish work. You’d be very welcome to join us.”

“That would be lovely, thanks,” Matthew said. “I should probably go back to roommates after though…can I visit again tomorrow?”

“Of course darling. You’re always welcome.”

She asked about his friends and the kind of work they did at the hospital, and when Matthew got to Bryce, Juliana laughed and said she had met him via video chat where he had flirted shamelessly and she had loved every minute.

“Do you have any plans today, Vovó?” Rafael asked.

“I had a haircut booked…and the car’s low on gas…I need to stock up some groceries too…”

“Good. You should go out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine. Do what you need to do. Catch up with some friends. You have a phone, we’ll call you if we need.”

Juliana’s ultimate faith in Matthew’s doctor skills prevailed and she agreed not to cancel her appointment. The boys went for a morning walk around the block, then started on a jigsaw puzzle on their return. Juliana joined in, between chapters of her book, until it was time to leave for her appointment.

Rafael sighed in relief when she left.

“That’s what I mean about her worrying over me too much. She already moved the haircut once since the attack, and she’s been avoiding taking the car where she can.”

“At least she’ll feel better having gone out and done it,” Matthew said. “Sometimes maintaining a normal routine is the best thing to do, for patients and carers. If Juliana feels better, you’ll feel better for her.”

“I know what you mean, you don’t need to explain,” Raf said, slightly amused. “You’re not supposed to be doctoring right now.”

“Tell that to Juliana,” Matthew teased.

The next couple of hours were fantastically normal. They worked on the thousand-piece puzzle until they got bored and moved to the couch, where Raf read a book whilst Matthew doodled in a spare notebook, and Raf eventually abandoned his reading to watch, fascinated, as Matthew effortlessly drew a cat sleeping in front of a fireplace.

“How’s Coco, by the way?” Matthew asked, remembering Raf’s old cat.

“She passed away over the summer.”

“Aaw, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s OK. She was very old. And we were with her at home.”

“Still, she was with you for so long…” Matthew said. He signed his drawing, then tore out the page and handed it to Raf. “You know you can always come over to play with Spooky if you need an animal companion.”

“Heh, thanks.”

They smiled at each other, then shared a slow, gentle kiss. Then another. Then another, picking up the pace. They kissed long and hard, until Raf was practically in Matthew’s lap. Raf’s hands ran along Matthew’s thighs as Matthew’s fingers tore through his hair. Excitement thrummed through Matthew’s body like electricity and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so keyed up.

“Wait,” Raf gasped. “Stop…”

“What’s wrong?!”

“I’m OK, I promise…just out of breath…Got a little dizzy…” Raf rested his head in the crook of Matthew’s neck. “Sorry…guess it’ll be a while before my stamina comes back.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Matthew said. “Do you want to go back to bed for a while?”

“…All those stairs…”

Matthew laughed, then scooted to one end of the couch and balanced a cushion in his lap.

“Alright, lie down on me.”

“You’re the best,” Raf said, happily, resting his head in Matthew’s lap. As Matthew’s hand gently combed through his hair, his heartbeat started to slow, and he did soon find himself drifting into a peaceful doze.

Matthew sat back against the couch, watching him sleep and listening to the Brazilian pop music drifting from the kitchen radio. He was starting to get pins and needles in his legs but he had no intention of disturbing Raf, not when Raf had held him through the night. Besides, he looked too peaceful where he was.

He started when he heard the key in the door but when Juliana came in carrying a grocery bag, she just smiled and told him not to move before unpacking groceries and making them both some coffee.

“How are you doing?” Matthew asked.

“Today has been the best I’ve been since he was attacked,” Juliana said, sounding weary. “I almost collapsed when I first heard…stayed with my son for a little while. Rafael never wants me to see him in hospital, but I never felt that he was safe until he was home. It helps, knowing he’s got you around,” she added, sipping her coffee. “I’m so glad you could be there for him. When I heard that Sora left him the way he did…”

Her eyes narrowed and something close to fury flashed across her face. Matthew had never seen that side of her; it was terrifying.

“Juliana…I want you to know that I care about Rafael so much…”

“I know you do, darling.” Juliana’s anger had gone, instantly replaced with her grandmotherly smile. “He cares a lot about you too. When he came home from walking with you yesterday, he was holding his head higher, and his smile…I haven’t seen him smile like that in months.” She looked at Matthew trustingly. “I’m so glad you two found each other again.”

****

That evening, Raf and Matthew were sat at the kitchen table, being entertained by Raf’s family. Juliana was chastising Pablo for getting in her way in the kitchen, and Natalia was telling them about a time after she and Pablo had just moved in together. They had invited his parents for dinner, but she accidentally spilled cooking oil onto his leg. By the time Raf’s grandparents turned up, Pablo was in the bathtub, spraying cool water onto his burns.

“Of course, Juliana knew how to treat a burn and Bernardo helped me clean up in the kitchen,” Natalia laughed. “I felt awful at the time though, I wanted to cry. I thought his family would never want to see me again after that.”

“And yet here you are,” Matthew grinned.

“Dad has so much leg hair I’m surprised the oil actually came into contact with his skin,” Rafael quipped.

“Ah, you’re just jealous,” Pablo laughed, joining them at the table.

Juliana served a large dish of stew, explaining to Matthew it was made with prawns, vegetables, tomatoes and onions. It smelled amazing and tasted even better.

“How’s your mom doing, Matthew?” Pablo asked. “We didn’t get to see her when she visited the hospital, will she be back soon?”

“She will,” Matthew nodded. “She’ll be here for a few days over Christmas.”

“I always host the whole family for Christmas,” Juliana said. “You’re both very welcome to join.”

“Really? It won’t be too much?”

“Of course not! There’ll always be room for you.”

“Mãe loves to host parties,” Pablo chuckled as Rafael slipped his hand into Matthew’s and squeezed it. “What were the holidays like at home for you?”

“Pretty quiet actually, just me and my mom. Sometimes my uncle as well,” Matthew said. “It was difficult for a long time after my sister died, but we got through it. It will be nice to have Mom around again this year.”

He’d worked through Christmas last year and, even though Edenbrook made the best of it, he had worried that Holly was lonely. He had called her after his shift and she told him she had volunteered in a soup kitchen before spending the afternoon and evening with her brother.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear about your sister.”

Matthew nodded, and told them a little about Casey. Even though it was still sad to think about, talking about her kept her memory alive.

Conversation passed on to a lighter topic as Raf talked about his cousin – who he had almost moved in with in Brazil – wanted to come and see him in Boston. There were a lot of friends and family asking after him, and he still hadn’t got round to seeing everyone. He admitted it was extremely heart-warming to have so much support. Natalia almost cried.

****

Pablo dropped Matthew at his apartment that night, with his freshly-pressed memorial clothes in a bag and another tin of leftover food which his roommates happily dug into. Elijah reported that Kyra was in good spirits and already bored of bedrest. Jackie then said she had noticed Elijah chatting with the young woman who had moved in to the apartment across the hall in the summer, and thought she could sense some low-key flirting. Elijah shook his head. Sienna went quiet for a minute, then said to Elijah that he should go for it.

“You can flirt back and see what happens.”

“I think I’ve spoken to Phoebe four times in two months!”

“First name basis, which is more than the rest of us have got!”

Elijah brushed off more questions, so Sienna brought out a tin of freshly-baked cookies she’d made that morning. Elijah took the cookies, but pointed out it would take more than that to get him to talk. As they ate cookies and teased each other, Matthew thought he knew what Raf meant when he mentioned heart-warming support.

It continued that way for the next week. Matthew lived in some kind of bubble, where he only needed to think about balancing time in his apartment and time in Juliana’s house. Sometimes he would take a batch of Sienna’s cooking when he visited, which went down well. One evening he got Sienna herself on video chat and she ended up spending quite a long time talking to Juliana, who took a shine to her. Friends and family members would come by to see Rafael and were eager to meet Matthew, who they’d apparently heard so much about. Matthew was so pleased to be back in Rafael’s life that he didn’t care about anything else. Even the two of them spending an afternoon doing nothing was exciting. He would have been happy for time to freeze.

But, although the weather would freeze, time didn’t. Matthew found himself alone in the apartment one morning when his phone rang with an unrecognised number.

“Uh…hello?”

“Dr Valentine?”

“Speaking.”

Matthew started pacing the living room. It couldn’t be anyone from Edenbrook. He wasn’t supposed to return until next week.

“Ah, good. My name is Patrick Coleman, I’m a lawyer.”

Matthew swallowed. If it was to do with the attack, he wasn’t sure how much he wanted to talk about. Especially over the phone.

“I’ll keep this short. I understand you witnessed an altercation between Esme Ortega and Garrett Thorne at Donahue’s Bar on June fifteenth?”

Matthew stopped pacing.

“I was. What’s going on?”

“I will be representing Dr Ortega in a hearing against Dr Thorne and I would like it if you could give a witness statement from that night. Dr Ortega would also like for you to be present at the hearing, if you can. Can you get to Edenbrook Hospital for 10AM on December the fifth?”

“Uh, sure. I mean, of course. I can do both of those things,” Matthew gulped. He had told Esme she could call him if she needed, but she hadn’t. He wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t needed his help for work – especially whilst working under Zaid – but he was a little surprised she hadn’t said a single word about this. What exactly had happened in the hospital whilst he had been off? He wasn’t sure to return to work until December tenth, but he could come back to support Esme…right?

He took down Mr Coleman’s details, then carefully tried Esme’s phone. She answered quickly.

“Hey. Guess Mr Coleman got in touch.”

“Yeah. And, uh, what the hell?” He shook his head. “Sorry, I just mean…what’s going on? What did I miss? I did not expect a lawyer telling me my intern was going to trial.”

“Yeah, it happened kinda fast. I got his surgical shunt booked, and then he started giving me these weird looks and making little digs. Said I was going to ‘get what was coming to me’ and some shit about…’girls like me’.” Her pause was long enough for Matthew to wonder what she wasn’t telling him. “It kept going on, right until he got prepped for surgery. Then, when Dr Emery came to check up on him after the surgery, the idiot was talking about it in his sleep. She got the full story out of me and then reported him to the board. Next thing I know, I’m meeting Mr Coleman and preparing for a hearing.”

“Holy crap,” Matthew breathed. “But…that’s good, right? He can finally face consequences for what he did.”

“Hmm. Except he has power, and money, and I’ve only been an intern for half a year, so who is the board more likely to listen to?”

“OK, you’re not wrong. But you’ve got Harper Emery on your side, and I can’t think of someone the board might respect more. Have you asked Dr Ramsey? He was at Donahue’s too.”

“Yeah, he’s leaving a statement. So are Zaid and Ines, and I’m asking Dr Varma and Dr Trinh.”

“Really? I didn’t think you guys were close.”

“We’re not, not really. But I did some investigating and he’s been rude to them too. Just comments about how women shouldn’t be doctors, but they were willing to help, and they’re all hoping to see him go down. Besides…I kinda need all the support I can get.”

Matthew smiled a little.

“You know I’m providing a statement, and I’ll be there to support you. I told you you’ll need a support system.”

“I didn’t think a hearing would count.”

“Neither did I.”

“Sorry to bring trouble for you, Dr Valentine.”

“We’re not at the hospital, you can call me Matthew. And you’re not bringing me trouble. Besides…I was referring to my first year.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t repeat what I’m about to tell you but…have you ever heard of Mrs Martinez?”

“That was you?!”

Matthew suddenly laughed. Of course she had heard hospital gossip.

“No way!” Esme was saying. “Like, a bunch of my intern class were talking about it and said they wished they could be there to see it. Did you really punch the board in the face?”

“Uh, no. But it probably would have been less painful for them."

****

On the morning of the tenth of December, Matthew was stood outside Edenbrook, dressed in a smart suit and a thick coat. There was something imposing about the building. It had once become something of a second home, which was odd for a hospital, but it was deeply familiar and allowed him to mostly forget his problems. Now it seemed too big, and the cloudy day made the glass too shadowy. He couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting up to the seventh floor where he knew the diagnostics office was…

“Dr Valentine?”

Matthew turned to see Esme, looking slightly awkward and stiff in her own suit, walking towards him.

“It’s good to see you, Esme. How are you doing?”

“God, I don’t know. Last night I felt kind of positive about it, but then I woke up this morning and didn’t know what to think.”

“You’ve done all you can do. Remember there are people here who believe you’ve done nothing wrong. And you know what? You haven’t done anything wrong.” He reached out and squeezed Esme’s shoulder. “You’re a good doctor. You deserve a good career. You’ll make it through today.”

Esme nodded and took a deep breath.

“Thanks. I have to wait for Mr Coleman, but you should probably go ahead.”

Matthew wished Esme luck as he left her in the parking lot and walked through the doors. The lights of the atrium were harsh, and the smell of clinical cleaning suddenly burned his nostrils in a way that it never had before. He glanced at the stairs, and then over to the emergency exit, and then over to the atrium doors. He relaxed a tiny bit when he spotted Jackie and Sienna. They waved him over without hesitation.

“I’m so glad you made it!” Sienna said, linking her arm through his. “Are you OK?”

“I’m fine,” Matthew said. “Esme needs me here, so I’m here.”

“At least this time you don’t have to say anything,” Jackie said. “If you’re ready, shall we go in?”

The three of them found seats in the third row. It was odd being back here, remembering  how nervous he felt to be standing at the podium facing a panel. But he had been facing the consequences of stealing medication for unauthorised use on a patient. Esme had done nothing wrong.

Other doctors were filing in – a lot of women – and then Thorne came down the steps accompanied by a man in a smart suit who must have been his lawyer. They sat on one side of the first row. Thorne had tried to make a good impression by wearing a smart suit of his own but he sat with an air of impatience, as if he were attending as a formality and expected to return to work immediately.

Esme entered after that, accompanied by presumably Mr Coleman. He was short and grey haired, but as they sat down he said something to Esme that made her shoulders relax. She glanced around at the doctors who were filling out the atrium, giving a tiny smile when she spotted Matthew a few rows back. He returned it, glad that he was here for her.

The medical board, including Chief Banerji, filled out their seats at the head of the room and called for silence for the hearing to begin.

“Thank you all for coming today. This hearing has been called to investigate reports of inappropriate conduct from Dr Garrett Thorne to Dr Esme Ortega, as well as a history of misconduct of a sexual nature.”

Naveen kept his face smooth as he spoke, but Matthew crossed his fingers that he was secretly on Esme’s side.

Naveen continued, “On June fifteenth, Dr Ortega was sat alone in Donahue’s Bar looking at her phone when Dr Thorne approached her. He attempted to initiate conversation with Dr Ortega, who was not receptive, and then placed his hand on her back. Dr Ortega slammed his hand on the table, breaking it, and in retaliation Dr Thorne pushed her to the floor. As she fell, Dr Ortega knocked into a table which resulted in a leg injury from the broken glass.”

“That is correct,” Mr Coleman confirmed. He stood and gave a character assessment for Esme: that she was a solitary person who preferred to stay in studying rather than socialising. This had been confirmed by the statements of Edenbrook staff – who didn’t find Esme to be particularly talkative, and was very direct in her speech, and she tended to drink alone if she was at Donahue’s – as well as statements received from old med school classmates – she had mostly kept to herself back then too.

When he was done, Dr Thorne’s lawyer – Mr Jason Acton – talked of how Thorne was a good, established doctor, who had many friends and contacts in all kinds of international hospitals, and who had a reputation amongst patients as being good at his job, with remarkably positive feedback from satisfied patients whose “lives had changed” following a plastic surgery procedure at his hand. Thorne looked infuriatingly smug as Mr Acton sat down. Naveen had a grave expression as he started reading through character assessments of Thorne from Edenbrook staff, and the smugness slowly ebbed away from Thorne’s face.

Most of the male doctors had written that Thorne was good at his job and he was either a good guy, entitled, obnoxious, or they didn’t know him well enough to comment. Female doctors had told a different story. Accusations ranged from sexist comments about how women shouldn’t be working, especially as doctors, to outright sexual harassment. The worst one was a resident from before Matthew’s time who wrote in detail about a residency that had been overshadowed by Thorne’s presence; he would corner her and make lewd comments, touched her inappropriately when no one was around and sometimes discretely when people were around, all the while making comments that he was an attending, she was a resident and nobody cared what she had to say. The woman had made passing her boards and leaving Edenbrook her number one priority.

This statement was met with sounds of disgust around the room and Naveen had to call for order, still maintaining his neutral expression. Then Esme was called up to speak.

“Dr Ortega, please describe in your own words what happened that night in Donahue’s.”

Esme licked her lips, her gaze darting round the room for a second before settling back to the panel.

“It was the night before I started my residency at Edenbrook. I wasn’t tired so decided to go to Donahue’s; I’d heard people raving about it. I went alone, and when I was there I didn’t speak with anyone except to order a drink. I was sitting at a table, drinking a beer, when this older doctor – Dr Thorne – approached. I didn’t look at him, but felt like I was being stared at. He started asking who I was and where I worked. And then he asked why I was alone and said he could change that.”

“And what did you say in response?”

“I just said ‘pass’.”

“What happened after that?”

“He called me uptight and said another drink would loosen me up. Then he touched my back…he started at the back of my shoulders and then slid his hand down.”

Esme couldn’t keep her scowl off her face. Naveen nodded, gravely.

She was asked more about her personal life, the panel probing into her dating life specifically, even though Esme didn’t have very much to tell. She wasn’t interested, she said. The idea of sex seemed uncomfortable and romance made her cringe. Matthew thought it must have been humiliating to have to answer those sorts of questions in front of a room full of people, all silently judging everything you do, but Esme stood firm. She remembered what Matthew had told her: she hadn’t done anything wrong. She spoke facts, just getting through the day. He was proud of her. The only time it got tense was when she was asked about her relationship with her parents. Esme just said she hadn’t spoken to them for a long time. The question wasn’t brought up again.

“We have these screenshots of messages sent on social media between you and one Dr Mitch Keller,” Naveen said, shuffling through some paper. “Perhaps you could clarify the meaning?”

Mitch had tracked down Esme’s pictogram and started messaging her with some cheesy pick-up lines. Sienna groaned.

“They were sent after my intern class had had a good work day. I wouldn’t have gone out with everyone but my resident offered to take my cases for me. I hadn’t gone out with my intern class before then, and I had barely spoken to Mitch since our first day. We all got some drinks and then when I got home, I found that he had messaged me through Picta.”

“Are these the messages you see here?”

“Yes. I thought he had got too drunk and it was pretty funny at first. But then it got slightly annoying, so I started phasing out the conversation in the hope he would get the message.”

“May I ask why you chose to ‘phase out’ the conversation?”

“We’d just had a good night out and I wasn’t sure if he was just being friendly. Like I said, I thought he was drunk and being too harsh might have ruined that.” She bit her lip. “I felt like I had started making some friends with the interns and didn’t want to ruin it straight away.”

Esme was dismissed and she sat down heavily beside Mr Coleman, who briefly touched her shoulder in reassurance.

“Poor girl,” Jackie muttered.

“Dammit Mitch,” Sienna sighed.

Thorne was then called up to describe his perspective on the situation, where he calmy described himself making polite conversation and nothing more than a friendly pat on the back, which was when he was attacked. In his shock, he had stumbled into Esme, accidentally pushing her down. Jackie gripped Sienna’s hand, trying to stay calm.

“Dr Thorne,” Naveen said. “We have received CCTV footage of the incident, provided by Reggie Hughes, owner of Donahue’s itself. Please tell us what you’re seeing.”

Thorne peered at the small screen of the tablet.

“Well…I’ve, uh, put my hand on her back, and she’s certainly broken it. I wore a brace for weeks. And then…I step towards her and…ah, yes, I tried to diffuse the situation but slipped.”

More muttering around the atrium, but no one could claim he was outright lying when no one else had seen the footage.

Harper’s jaw was set when she walked up to the witness stand. She stood tall and powerful, never one to be bullied into submission.

“Dr Emery, you recently performed a surgical shunt on Dr Thorne. What happened after that?”

“I went to the patients recovery room to monitor any indications of complications. I could see the anaesthetic was starting to wear off; he was stirring slightly. Then he started to speak and I heard the words ‘bitch made a fool out of me’. I asked what he meant by that, even though I didn’t expect an answer, but then he said ‘bitch broke my hand’. He was referring to when Dr Ortega broke his hand back in June.”

“Were you aware it was Dr Ortega at the time?”

“No, but I had heard rumours that one of the interns was in trouble already, so I asked around other plastic surgeons for what they knew. It didn’t take long to figure out it was Dr Ortega: she was the one who had diagnosed him, and for some reason he had been angry about that.”

“For some reason…?”

“Dr Thorne has historically hated interns, both medical and surgical. My guess is he couldn’t stand the fact one had proven him wrong.”

There was a splutter from Dr Thorne’s side of the room. Matthew smirked.

“Dr Emery, could you please tell us what happened after that?”

“I spoke with Dr Ortega privately and she told me that Dr Thorne had come on to her at Donahue’s. She said ‘pass’ and he put his hand on her back in a suggestive manner, which was when she slammed it into the table. She said that, in retaliation, he had pushed her down and she got cut on some broken glass. She then told me that, as she was booking in a surgical shunt, Dr Thorne had been making comments towards her that included describing Dr Ortega as, and I quote, ‘a stuck-up little bitch’ and ‘someone who needed to learn her place’. He also said no one refused him and he would always got what he wanted.”

Harper looked extremely uncomfortable as she recounted this last part, and Esme was sat with her head down, her hair parting to reveal the nape of her neck. Thorne kept his expression smooth when Matthew was called up to give his statement.

“Please describe how it is to work with Dr Ortega as her resident?” Naveen asked, after Matthew had described what he had seen at Donahue’s.

“She’s a good, smart doctor, and a fast learner. I can trust her to do her job well, and that she’ll page me when she needs.”

“And outside of work?”

“We don’t speak much outside of work. Dr Ortega prefers to keep to herself.”

Zaid was after Matthew, talking about how he noticed Esme took her work seriously and preferred studying to socialising. Ines agreed, adding that she had been a little concerned that Esme wouldn’t have the support she needed to start her career, but her outcomes spoke for itself; she could stand on her own two feet. Matthew was starting to feel a little optimistic for Esme, but there were still a few doctors siding with Thorne, keeping him on edge.

There was a tense silence as the panel discussed what they had heard, then Naveen stood and asked for Esme and Thorne, and their lawyers, to join them for a private discussion. They called for the hearing to resume in fifteen minutes.

“Damn, this is heavy,” Jackie groaned, sinking into her seat. “What do you think is going to happen?”

“I feel like it’s too close to tell,” Matthew said. “Honestly, I think Esme’s support has the edge, but…”

“Thorne has age, power, money and male-ness on his side?” Jackie said. “No offence, Matthew.”

“None taken.”

“He has to face consequences for this,” Sienna groaned. “Harper and Ethan are huge names in Edenbrook, and Dr Banerji’s fair. They have to see through his sliminess.”

“What do you think about Mitch messaging Esme?” Jackie asked.

“I guess I can’t do anything about it now, but he’d better have got the message that she’s not interested.” She shook her head firmly. “I can’t think too much about that right now.”

Matthew leaned over to her. “Are you OK?”

“…Not really. I’ll tell you later.”

“Sienna…”

“No, I mean it. If I think about it too much now, I’ll get mad.”

Worry balled in Matthew’s stomach, Jackie looked slightly suspicious, but they both dropped it. Jackie said she was going to stretch her legs, and came back with three cups of coffee as the panel returned. The room quietened instantly.

“Given what we have just heard, Mr Acton has advised that Dr Thorne would like to settle the matter.”

“Huh. He must have realised he was in more trouble than he thought and decided to quit while ahead,” Jackie muttered. Thorne was looking irritated, and Matthew was inclined to agree with Jackie.

“All things considered, the panel has voted in favour of Dr Ortega.”

Sudden applause burst through the auditorium as Esme sat back in her seat. Her shoulders had loosened and Mr Coleman gave her a quick smile. Matthew grinned, though he noticed Dr Cyrus and Dr Rosario looking slightly annoyed.

Naveen called for silence before carrying on with his speech.

“It has been agreed that Dr Thorne will settle with Dr Ortega and will be on suspension for six months.”

“Six months? That’s it?” Sienna groaned.

“That must have been his fancy lawyers talking. At least Naveen doesn’t look particularly happy about that bit,” Jackie sighed. “Still…a million bucks. Esme’s set for life.”

Matthew stayed in his seat as the auditorium started filing out. Thorne stormed out as soon as he could with Mr Acton hurrying after him. Esme gave Mr Coleman a firm handshake. The panel packed up and left. The auditorium was half empty when Matthew approached Esme, who was smiling.

“Are you alright?” he asked her. “It must have been rough to be up there.”

“To be honest, it was,” Esme said. “Especially when they were asking about my relationship history. But…I’m happy with this outcome. It would be great if Thorne was walking out the door forever, but I figured that was highly unlikely.”

“So, what happened in the intermission? You don’t have to tell me.”

“Thorne earns two million dollars a year – I know,” she added, when Matthew’s eyebrows shot up. “And apparently he has a bunch of investments, so Acton strongly suggested he settle with - get this - one million dollars."

"Holy crap!!"

"I know! Acton saw it as good enough for me to be satisfied, whilst remaining something Thorne could recover from. He was good at arguing about what a great surgeon he was and how Edenbrook literally couldn’t afford to lose him, so the panel argued for a while and then eventually agreed on the suspension.”

“I take it not all the panel were on your side?”

“Cyrus, Rosario and Lozoya were in favour of Thorne.”

“Lozoya? Seriously?”

“Yeah, she disappointed me too. But…honestly, a million dollars is life-changing…”

Matthew nodded towards the door.

“Wanna get out of here? My apartment’s in walking distance if you want to stop for a coffee.”

“That actually sounds good.”

Twenty minutes later, Matthew was safely back in his kitchen pouring out some coffee. Esme was admiring his apartment.

“What’s that big stain on the ceiling?”

“I don’t know. We’d rather not find out.” Matthew handed her a cup and she curled her fingers round it. “Anyway, enough about my apartment. Today was big.”

“I’m honestly just glad it’s over.”

She was biting her lip. Matthew waited. She would speak when she was ready.

“It’s just…”

“Yes?”

“When the panel were asking me about my sex life…that was gross.”

“Have you had…bad experiences or anything?”

“No, just that the idea of sex has always kind of creeped me out, regardless of who does it. Everyone seemed to be going at it in med school and no one seemed to understand why I didn’t like it. Honestly, I just wanted to study and talk about literally anything else. The idea that they would call me a liar…” she trailed off, uncharacteristically upset. As she blinked tears out of her eyes, Matthew reached out to gently touch her arm.

“I can imagine,” he said softly. “But, they did believe you. Over half the people in that room were on your side. And to top it off, you may not need to worry about money again.”

“I know,” Esme sniffed. She wiped her eyes. “God, it’s stupid. Seeing five doctors on the panel take my side was really uplifting…”

“Are you overwhelmed?” Matthew asked, and Esme nodded.

“I guess…certainly since the thing happened with my parents…I’ve learned not to get too close to people and they don’t seem to care…it’s nice to see that people will do the right thing.”

“It is.”

They were quiet for a few minutes as Esme slowly collected herself.

“Thanks for being here, Matthew,” she said. “You’re a cool resident. I’m glad you’re ok.”

“Me too. And you’re very welcome.” Sensing a calmer atmosphere, Matthew tried a question. “Have you any idea what you might do with that million dollars?”

“It doesn’t even seem real. I don’t want to think about it until it’s confirmed. I mean, I could pay off my med school debt.”

“Do that. Don’t take it lightly,” Matthew said. “I think I’ve still got about $90k.” It made his brain spin to think about, and he had to take several mouthfuls of coffee. He wasn’t sure it helped.

“…Matthew?”

“Sorry, did you say something?”

“I just wondered when you were returning to work properly.”

“Uh…the tenth.”

Now that Matthew thought about, the date had completely snuck up on him. He’d barely considered his return to work, too caught up in having Rafael back, their recovery, all the time he spent with his family. It already seemed like forever since he had last seen him, when it had only been a day. Reality started to dawn on him; back to the hospital for twelve hours a day without the comfort of Raf’s company. He would be alone in the hospital. Matthew placed his half-empty coffee cup on the table. He didn’t fancy it so much anymore.

He put on a brave face as he saw Esme out the door. She had a lot of thinking to do. Matthew wanted to do some less thinking, and he wanted to call Raf, but then he noticed Farley in the hallway.

“Uh…Matthew?”

“Er…hi, Farley.”

Matthew hovered awkwardly in the doorway. As landlords go, Farley wasn’t so bad. Apart from jacking up the price of an apartment at the last minute, he was lax about everything else: house parties until a certain curfew, a small pet as long as it didn’t cause too much damage and they would clean up after it. Not to mention that, apart from sending flowers, Farley had returned their rent for the month after the attack.

“Thanks for the flowers and everything.”

“No problem. I just figured it was the least I could do.” He reached up to scratch his ear. “Sounds awful, what you went through.”

“Where’d you get that rash?”

Farley’s sleeve had slipped down a bit to reveal a small circular rash on the inside of his wrist.

“Umm…it came up a few days ago I think. It doesn’t itch much or anything.”

Matthew continued staring at the rash. Maybe it was nothing, just something ordinary like a bug bite. But Matthew knew all too well how even the most non-descript things could turn at the drop of the hat.

“You should get it looked at soon,” he said, but Farley shook his head.

“I can’t. My insurance isn’t great and last month ended up being a bit tight. Car trouble and broken boilers and things. I can’t risk a massive medical bill.”

“Edenbrook has a free clinic…”

“Free examinations, not treatment. Can’t risk it.”

Matthew pictured the rash spreading slowly across Farley’s wrist. He pictured it changing colour, burning him, becoming infected and weeping pus.

“I could help with that,” he said, suddenly. Farley blinked at him,

Matthew swallowed as he realised where he was taking this conversation. Farley needed help. Matthew held the solution. It was why he became a doctor after all…and he couldn’t risk someone else suffering needlessly because of undue hesitation.

He steeled himself and looked Farley in the eye.

“I’m part of a team that has a little more freedom than the rest of the hospital. If you agree to come in with me today I could have my boss treat you pro bono. It won’t cost you a cent.”

“Wow…seriously?” Farley gaped. “I mean…I guess I’ve got nothing else on this afternoon so, what the hell, let’s do it.”

Farley sat in the living room as Matthew quickly changed into his standard work clothes. A new white coat had been sent to his apartment and it felt oddly stiff to wear. Once he was ready, he called Rafael.

“Hey Matthew! How did the hearing go?”

“Yeah, it ended pretty well. But I’m actually calling about something else.” He quickly explained he had an unexpected patient and needed to return to work a few days early. Raf was stunned and kept asking Matthew if he was sure.

“Look, Raf, all I’m sure about is that I have a patient who needs me and I can’t let him down. And maybe I’m not a hundred percent sure about going back today but there’s no guarantee I’ll be a hundred percent by the time my official start date rolls around.”

“OK, OK. Just…take care of yourself, alright? And call me again whenever you need.”

Matthew smiled. “I will.”

Tags: @sazanes @rafasgirl23415 @ceruleansnake0

[newspaper12]

A Voice for the Vax-Injured

Angela Wulbrecht, a nurse for the Vaccine Safety Research Foundation, discusses the consequences of COVID vaccinesIn a recent episode of "American Thought Leaders," host Jan Jekielek and Angela Wulbrecht discuss the devastating and sometimes deadly consequences of the COVID vaccines on certain recipients. A nurse for over two decades, Ms. Wulbrecht suffered a life-threatening response to the vaccine. Today, she works for the Vaccine Safety Research Foundation, where she advocates for injured patients. She also appears in the new documentary, “The Unseen Crisis.”Jan Jekielek: You're one of the stars of “The Unseen Crisis,” which is now screening at a New York City film festival. Let’s talk first about how you became a nurse.Angela Wulbrecht: My mom is from the Seychelles Islands off the east coast of Africa in the Indian Ocean. My father was American, and I was born in the United States. When I was 8 years old, my father and I were in a car accident. I survived with a fractured vertebra, but my dad was killed instantly, and I was rushed to a children's hospital. My mom wasn't in the States at the time. I was terrified and alone, and devastated by my dad’s death, but these nurses decorated my room with balloons and teddy bears, and loved me, and got me through the most tragic time of my life. So even then, I decided I wanted to become a nurse, to give back what they had given me—this incredible gift of love and compassion.

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My mom had no family in the United States. She decided to go home and be closer to her family, and we returned to the Seychelles. After high school, I went to nursing school in the United States. Once I graduated, I started working as a labor and delivery nurse. I loved helping women at one of the most beautiful times of their lives. Within a year, I pretty much was a charge nurse for the Department of Women, Infants, and Children.Mr. Jekielek: Let's fast-forward to when you worked in a hospital in Sonoma, California.Ms. Wulbrecht: When the pandemic hit, everything shut down. My daughter had to be homeschooled. I took it all really seriously. When the government told us this was bad, I believed them. When they said the vaccines were safe and effective, I believed them and rushed to get my vaccine. Within 12 minutes of getting it, I was on the ground.At first, I thought I was having an anaphylactic reaction. The paramedics took my vitals, which were extremely unstable. My blood pressure was so high I could have stroked out. I was taken by ambulance to the hospital.That was the first of five 911 calls and five hospitalizations. Those first weeks I was at the doctor's office every day if I wasn't in the hospital. I was fortunate because I was valued in the medical community where I worked. They were eager to take care of me. This was also early on when only medical staff could get the vaccine, so they did all sorts of tests to figure out what was going on. Three or four different cardiologists plus other doctors worked on me.I was still pro-vaccine. I looked at it as similar to giving penicillin to me, because I'm allergic to penicillin. So I was encouraging people to get it to protect each other.Mr. Jekielek: Then you appeared in the media.Ms. Wulbrecht: Kaiser News interviewed me to share my story. By that point, I’d started to learn of others getting injured and how they weren't being properly cared for. My goal in this interview was to highlight that. After the article hit other major newspapers, I started to realize thousands and thousands of other people were having vaccine reactions. People who were injured would ask online, “Are there any vaccine injuries out there?” My name would pop up, my number wasn’t blocked, and they could find me.Then I was invited, along with others, to speak to the CDC and the FDA . I was happy we could present our evidence to them.They listened, gave us their email, and told us we would have a follow-up meeting. We never heard back from them. I emailed multiple times but never heard from them.I thought, “If the CDC and the FDA won’t listen, the NIH will, because they’re doctors. We're in this together.”I sent Dr. Nath, the head of neurology at the NIH, my hospital credentials and asked for his help. He was wonderful. I emailed him cases of vaccine injuries, and he would reply right away.In one email, I asked him to look at data compiled by Steve Kirsch. His response was this generic email saying they didn’t treat vaccine injuries and that if I had further questions to look at the CDC website. That was the gist of it.At that point, I realized my perception of these people putting health and safety first hadn’t been true. Greed, money, and power came first.So I joined the VSRF team, founded by Steve Kirsch. It lit a fire in me. We were a team. None of us had a background in event planning and media, but we were passionate about caring for people.Mr. Jekielek: A silver lining of the whole recent madness is meeting some really principled people, which I'm grateful for.Ms. Wulbrecht: “The Unseen Crisis” filmed by Cindy of NTD News and The Epoch Times reveals who the vaccine injured are, and I hope doctors will watch it. The whole crew was wonderful. I felt like I was with family.If I'm never allowed to work in another hospital again for speaking out, for helping the helpless, that's okay. I went into this to do my duty and to protect patients first. I want help and compensation for all the vaccine injured. That's my goal.This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity. #Voice #VaxInjured A Voice for the Vax-Injured https://img.theepochtimes.com/assets/uploads/2023/10/16/id5510944-Angela-Wulbrecht-700x420.jpg Read the full article

[amarantine-amirite]

I Am Proto, Super Bowl Commercial Is My Motto

I hate in-class discussions. Every time I get verbal instructions, I have to ask someone to repeat the part where they said stuff about everything. More often than not, I have to ask them to write stuff down for me. It works until it doesn't, such as when you're doing discussions. But that's the way it's going to be.

Honestly, I feel like we shouldn't have to do them. We do them so much because our English teacher is so set on saving paper she loses sight of what's practical. We can't take notes during discussions, and we can only have at most one page of notes before tests/exams, and two note cards during readings. We can't use mobile devices for note-taking, nor can we record anything that goes on in class. Even the assignments are entirely discussion based because it's easier for the teacher to grade you based on how you behave in a discussion than it is for them to read an essay you've written off a screen.

"OK, everybody," the teacher began, "for this discussion, if you don't fill at least 15 minutes of air time, you fail." She walked around the class and sat on her desk. "Your topic is this: is Shakespeare a person or an army of monkeys with typewriters? Go"

"I'm going to need that in writing if you please," I asked the teacher. I couldn't tell whether she said 15 minutes or 50 minutes.

"Well, you can't," she said, looking at her phone.

I tipped my head to one side. "Why not?"

"It wastes paper," she said, still looking at her phone.

I got it, but I felt a pang of suspicion. If you tell someone, don't write that down, it wastes paper, it sounds like a socially acceptable way to tell someone that you don't want to have a paper trail. "Is there something you want to tell me?" I said as I narrowed my gaze.

"What do you mean?" the teacher responded. She tried to look like she wasn't insulted.

"I'm a teensy bit suspicious that you don't want to write this down because you don't want a paper trail."

The teacher glared at me. "Do you not trust me?" she asked, taking it way too personally.

"No, that's not it."

"Then why?" she demanded.

"I don't process spoken language too well because I'm on the spectrum, so I need written instructions."

"No," the teacher said, "you're just a bad listener, Elizabeth."

I shook my head. No part of that sentence is true. I'm a good listener, I just struggle to process speech. But that doesn't matter. I'm a bad listener because somebody probably doesn't want a paper trail.

The next day, I found out that she had gone behind my back and removed me from my piano recital. A few days later, my dad told me that Twisted Sister was there, looking for new talent. I soon realized that had I been there, I would have become the latest member of Twisted Sister. It made me feel even worse about missing my piano recital. I had worked hard, and not only did I not get a chance to reap the rewards of months of hard work, but I missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime. All because I can't process spoken language.

After Christmas, I made peace with it. Then Super Bowl Sunday rolled around. The wound reopened when my dad pointed to Twisted Sister playing at the Super Bowl halftime show and said, "Lizzy, this could have been you if you didn't screw up in English class so badly".

Missing out on being the newest member of Twisted Sister made me ask myself why it is so easy for everyone to write me off. Common sense would dictate that it's not me, they're too stupid to get me." Unfortunately, it's shockingly easy to miss out on terrific opportunities because other people are too stupid to understand I struggle to process speech.

The halftime show ended. A strange commercial with a cartoon superhero driving a sports car down the highway out in front of Mount Rushmore set to an awkward cover of "Safety Dance" by Men Without Hats came on the TV. "What is this, Super Why?" Dad asked.

I recognized it instantly: my Super Bowl commercial for Protegent antivirus and data protection software. "No, Dad," I said, "It's that Super Bowl ad that I made when I did AV club in the fall." The feeling that I was some kind of loser melted away. They aired something I made on National TV.

As Proto drove underneath the moose, the voice-over said, "When it comes to protecting your personal computer, only Protegent passes the moose test". Dad gestured to the TV and said, "That's not what the moose test is."

"Yeah, no it's not," I replied, "We were just really stuck."

Stuck was something of an understatement. It took some moron in my homeroom buying a moose head on the teacher's credit card during class for us to come up with the idea for the commercial that we ultimately used. Even now, I can't believe that we got our work out the door on time.

"Did the AV club really have you make a Super Bowl ad?" Dad asked incredulously.

I nodded and told Dad the long story about the Protegen Super Bowl ad. Protegent isn't too well-known outside of India, but the ads for it have become something of a minor internet meme worldwide because the mascot looks like the protagonist of the cartoon Super Why. Marketing-by-meme worked for a while, but now the magic's gone. Time to take more drastic action. Time to make a Super Bowl commercial. Yes, a Super Bowl commercial for something that there's no American market for.

Dad turned to me and asked, "Do people in America actually buy this software?"

"No". There's a good reason for it. I remember when we were storyboarding the ad, Priya told me that Protegent is useless and their tech support department scams people.

"Then why is there a Super Bowl commercial for it?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "because the people who make the software asked for one," I replied. Either Unistal doesn't know there's no demand for this product in America or they don't care.

"What were they thinking?" Dad replied.

"Nobody knows," I replied, "I guess that they saw the memes and thought the Protegent was popular in America. Point is, something I make ended up on National TV!"

The game came back on, Dad shushed me because nobody talks while football is on. I think we can file that ad under well, we just wasted 60 crore rupees.

@soprompt

[thezeekrecord]

c'est la vie

[index/summary]

A year and a half after the resonance cascade, Gordon had almost stopped wishing it had all just been a bad dream. It had taken some work to get to this point, emotionally; something his therapist referred to as “radical acceptance”, just letting the horrific event be what it was so he could move on rather than agonize over what could have been different. What if he’d refused to do the test, when Benry shoved his way into the chamber? What could he have said or done to convince Bubby and Benry that he wasn’t worth sacrificing to the military for their own safety, without even knowing that had been in their plans? What if this, what if that—what if he’d simply, by absolute chance, had his stupid fucking passport on him that morning he walked into work?

These were questions he mulled over less and less now, of course. The resonance cascade happened. He had one less arm, a lot more trauma, but also four new friends—even if he felt complicated about them, sometimes. At least Benry was dead; he wasn’t sure he’d be able to navigate those feelings with that lunatic around, making matters worse.

Gordon startled at the sound of a sudden shout from the back seat, followed by a dull thump against the back of his chair.

“Josh, don’t throw things at me, I’m driving.” Gordon reminded his son exhaustedly, looking into the rearview mirror to see him in his carseat. Quickly, he turned his gaze back to the road, turning on his low beams and squinting in an effort to see through the thick sheets of snow ahead. He should’ve left the house earlier, he lamented—if he left at the same time as Dr. Coomer and Bubby to meet up at the mysterious cabin Tommy and Darnold had invited them all to, he might not have gotten caught in this storm. Now, he was fighting for his life on a long winding road, driving at a snail’s pace out of an abundance of caution.

“Daddy!” Joshua whined from the back. “My gnome...!”

Gordon sighed deeply. “Is that what you threw at my chair?”

“No...”

Gordon recognized that tone of voice instantly. “That’s why you don’t throw your toys at me when we’re in the car, kid! I’m busy driving, I can’t get them for you. You’re just gonna have to wait ‘till we get there to get the gnome back.”

God, that gnome was weird, Gordon thought to himself as Joshua made frustrated noises. He wasn’t even entirely sure where he got it from—it just showed up into his life one day, and of course, his son just had to be obsessed with it. It seemed like it belonged more in some old person’s front garden than it did in the hands of a toddler, aside from a little button on its back that prompted pre-recorded lines to play from the speaker on its shoe. (Mysteriously, it didn’t even seem to have batteries, nor an end to the recorded lines it could say.) Gordon sighed again as Joshua’s frustrated sounds pitched up higher into a miserable wail.

“C’mon, Josh, I can’t stop every time you lose something.” Gordon told him, more pleading with him than anything else. “We’ll be there soon, okay? You’ll get the gnome back, and I’ll make you hot chocolate at the cabin. How’s that sound?”

Apparently, Joshua just wasn’t having it. Keeping his eyes firmly on the road, Gordon grumbled to himself a little as he leaned to the side, trying to reach behind his seat to see if the accursed ornament was at least easy to grab. Instead, he felt the sole of a tiny shoe connect harshly with his forearm.

“Hey! Don’t kick me, I’m trying to help!” Gordon scolded, making firm eye contact with his son in the rearview mirror to get his point across.

When Gordon looked at the road again, he wasn’t sure what exactly it was that was caught in his headlights—it was silhouetted through the snow, but it rivaled Gordon’s car in size. Gordon yelped as he hit the breaks, finding almost too late that his tires had no traction against the road. In the mere milliseconds where time almost seemed to slow down, Gordon wrenched the wheel to the side, the car sliding in an earnest effort to follow his direction. There was no time to feel relief when he narrowly avoided the thing by inches; the car barreled off the road, bumping harshly until it slammed to a stop in a ditch. Over the sound of broken glass settling, metal groaning, and the pounding of blood in Gordon’s ears, he heard the gnome’s muffled high-pitched voice underneath him, chirping out “You have failed the challenge!”

Breathing hard, Gordon fumbled to take his seatbelt off, clambering out of his seat to get into the back. “Josh? Josh, are you okay?” Gordon asked, putting a hand to Joshua’s chest and checking him over. Joshua whimpered as he put a little hand to where the seatbelt had dug into his skin a bit, but otherwise, he looked entirely unharmed. Gordon let out a deep breath, resting his forehead against the side of Joshua’s carseat.

“I’m sorry, bud.” Gordon said once he’d composed himself enough to speak again, his body feeling stiff and exhausted as he came down from the adrenaline rush. He reached underneath the driver’s seat, finding the ceramic gnome and placing it in Joshua’s lap.

Joshua immediately pressed the button on its back, prompting the gnome to say exactly what Gordon wanted to say in the moment: “Fuck!" Gordon couldn’t help an exasperated laugh. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and flipping it open. Luckily, he’d already programmed his friends’ numbers on speed dial—his hand was shaking too much to do much more than push the two buttons it took to dial Tommy. Settling back into the seat beside Joshua’s, Gordon pressed the phone to his ear, expecting to hear the dial tone. Instead, he was greeted by high pitched beeps, followed by an unsympathetic, "We’re sorry, the number you are trying to reach cannot be completed as dialed." Gordon looked at his phone, dread creeping up in his stomach as he found it read a simple no service at the top.

Flipping his phone shut and stuffing it back into his pocket, Gordon forced a deep breath in and out. “Okay.” He said on his breath out. “We’re alright. Just take stock, Gordon, we got this.”

After brief reassurances to himself, Gordon climbed out of the car, shutting the door firmly behind him to trap the warmth in for Joshua. The ditch he’d gotten them into wasn’t incredibly deep by any means, but the front of the car didn’t look good; he tried to pry the hood up to check on the engine—not that he knew much about cars—but it was stuck shut, too deformed from the crash to open. Wedging himself into the ditch and planting his palms firmly on the front of the car, he made an earnest, well-intentioned effort to push it out onto even ground; it didn’t take too long for him to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t going to manage that anytime soon. He circled the car a couple times, climbed back into the driver’s seat and made several attempts to get the car to restart, but it was becoming all too clear now: they were stuck.

“I wanna go!” Joshua complained from his seat, blissfully unaware of the situation they were in. Gordon dragged his palm down his face, trying his hardest to keep himself composed.

“Uhh—we can’t, bud. Not like this.” Gordon told him carefully, turning in his seat to look back at him. “The car’s broken. I, uhhh...I think we’re just gonna have to wait for a bit for someone to come help us.”

In a storm like this? Gordon’s anxiety demanded. Who in their right mind would be on the road right now? Well, besides him, of course. Getting himself and his vulnerable, young son stranded out in the middle of a snowstorm, with very little hope of rescue for God only knew how long— stupid, stupid, stupid.

Okay, Gordon reminded himself—radical acceptance. Don’t get caught in the past, just focus on solutions for now. With another steadying breath, he began collecting things he hoped would help. In this storm, he wasn’t too sure how easy it’d be for a passing car to see their wreck, so he climbed out and grabbed their things from the trunk, setting up his flashlights on the car to aim towards the road in the hopes they’d act as some sort of beacon. Settling into the backseat with Joshua again, he unrolled their blankets and pulled out their coats, anticipating the car to lose heat fast through the cracks in the windshield. In a desperate bid to keep Joshua content, despite their circumstances, Gordon pulled out one of Joshua’s favorite picture books, a lighter, and the bag of marshmallows. Joshua was thoroughly entertained by Gordon’s efforts to roast the marshmallows over his little lighter, and they ended their first hour alone with uncomfortably sticky hands.

“Come on.” Gordon murmured to himself as he peered out the back window, hoping to catch a glimpse of headlights on the road behind them. Still no service, either, no matter how many times he desperately checked his phone; he eventually had to turn it off to conserve battery. By the time the second hour dragged to an end, Gordon had taken Joshua out of his carseat to bundle him up in his coat, wrapping them both tight in their thickest blanket. Joshua’s face rested against the warmth of Gordon’s chest, their breath manifesting together as steam in the cold car.

Gordon glanced at his watch to confirm the end of their third hour, Joshua still fast asleep against him. The temperature was dropping fast; his face had started to feel numb a little while ago. Maybe if he was alone, he’d just grit his teeth and stick it out. The fact was, though, he had a toddler to worry about, and in the dark, freezing car with nothing else to do or think about, worrying was all he could do.

Careful not to lose too much heat from the blanket, Gordon pulled up his massive paper map he’d used to plot their course to the cabin, tracing his finger along the interstate they were on. As far as he could remember, it had been about an hour since they last stopped at a gas station for a bathroom break, and he’d only been driving 30 miles an hour once the snow started coming down hard.

“We’re probably here...about 20 miles to the next turn off, then, maybe...” Gordon muttered, trying to calculate exactly how stupid it would be to try and walk that. Lethally stupid, right?

With a defeated sigh, Gordon looked out the back window again, jolting at the sight of a light in the distance. He rushed to set Joshua down back in his carseat, freeing himself up to practically throw himself out of the car.

“I’ll be right back, Josh, stay put!” Gordon said as he slammed the door shut, hearing the gnome shout a few repeated yays. He grabbed the snow-covered flashlights he’d set out on his car, waving them around desperately like he was trying to direct an airplane for an emergency landing. “Hey! Hey, stop, please!” He shouted all the while, trudging through the snow to stand right up against the side of the road.

Gordon could have sobbed with relief as the car pulled to a stop in front of him. It was an old-looking pickup truck, rusted around the edges and smartly supplied with chains on the thick tires. Gordon stood on his toes to look at the person in the truck, who rolled down the window to talk to him. He looked close to Gordon’s age, maybe a bit older, with messy black hair and a five o’clock shadow. Gordon reveled in the blast of warmth he felt against his face as he leaned in closer to the truck.

“What’re you doing out in this storm?” The man asked with concern on his face.

“Listen, I crashed my car a couple hours ago, I got a three-year-old in there. It’s getting so cold, we really need some help.” Gordon told the man desperately, indicating back at his car. “Could you give us a ride to the next town? Anywhere warm and with a phone, then I can at least call my friends and keep my son warm.”

“Well, of course.” The man said, straining to reach the passenger door to open it up for Gordon. “My house isn’t that far off from here, stay with us as long as you need.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” Gordon said with a deep sigh of relief, leaving the passenger door open as he began to hurry back to his car. “Lemme get my kid, we’ll be right there!”

Gordon opened the door, finding Joshua stuffing his face with marshmallows. He didn’t have the wherewithal to scold him for it; he just scooped Joshua up in his arms, ready to drag himself back to the man’s truck.

“I want my gnome!” Joshua shouted with dismay, reaching out towards the gnome left on the seat.

“Josh—” Gordon tried to say, interrupted by Joshua shrieking in protest. “Fine! Fine. We’ll take the damn gnome.”

With Joshua and the garden gnome over half the size of his own son, Gordon stumbled back to the truck, climbing into the passenger seat and shutting the door behind him. Once settled, he pulled his seatbelt on and rubbed his hands up and down Joshua’s back with the hopes of warming him up faster.

“Seriously, man, thank you so much.” Gordon said as the truck lurched forward. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t come by.”

“Hey, it’s no problem. I’m glad I was out here to find you.” The man replied with a kind smile. “Means this whole outing wasn’t a total bust.”

“Yeah, what’re you doing out here yourself, anyway?” Gordon asked curiously. “If you live close by, surely you would’ve known about the snow already, right?”

“Yeah, well, one of my mom’s cows got out.” The man said, rubbing the back of his neck with a free hand. “Me and my brother have been out trying to find her. At this point, it’s too dangerous to keep looking, so I just hope my brother found her already before I did.”

Gordon opened his mouth to say something reassuring, pausing as an image of the road mere moments before crashing returned to his head with a vengeance. “A cow!” Gordon exclaimed, slapping his palm against the armrest. “Holy shit, maybe that’s what I almost hit!”

“You hit my cow?” The man questioned, looking at Gordon seriously.

“No, no, I didn’t! I said almost.” Gordon repeated, putting his hand up defensively. “I swerved to avoid it, that’s how we crashed in the first place. I was so caught up in the moment, I didn’t think to try and check what I almost hit.”

The man was quiet for a moment before he deflated a little. “Well, anyway, I’m glad you two are okay. Sorry, just worried about her and my brother, with all this snow...”

“That’s alright.” Gordon said. “You know—”

Gordon stopped as he recognized through his fatherly sixth sense what Joshua was gearing up to do. He’d lifted the gnome up a little, looking at the man in the driver’s seat. Gordon snatched the gnome out of Joshua’s hands.

“Joshua Freeman, I need you to understand that you literally have to stop throwing this gnome at people, especially if they’re driving.” Gordon said firmly, setting the gnome down out of his reach.

He must have bumped the button along the way to put it on the floor by his feet, because the gnome almost seemed to protest. “Stop! Put me back!” It cried as Joshua whined and reached for it desperately.

“You’ll get it back if you’re good.” Gordon promised, patting Joshua’s chest. He glanced at the man in the driver’s seat, getting a glimpse of a confused look in his eye before he turned back to the road. Gordon cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uhhh...what’s your name?”

“Emmet.” The man replied. “You?”

“Gordon.”

“...Huh.”

Gordon tilted his head at Emmet curiously. “What?”

Emmet shook his head and shrugged. “Nothing, nothing.” He mumbled to himself after that—Gordon wasn’t entirely sure what it was he said, but he swore he heard a quiet, “probably a coincidence...”

Gordon let it slide, though, not interested in questioning his savior for the evening. It didn’t take too long before Emmet was turning off the interstate onto what seemed to be a dirt road—not that Gordon could really tell due to the snow, all he knew was the terrain became less even—and soon enough, he saw the warm lights of a house. Emmet hopped out of the truck comfortably, indicating for Gordon to follow. Gordon nearly fell out of his seat, keeping close behind Emmet as he held Joshua (and, unfortunately, the gnome) to his chest. They had to be careful up the snow-covered wooden steps of the porch, but once they were inside, Gordon could feel nothing but pure relief. They stood in a sort of mini-foyer, where Emmet and his family kept their shoes and coats; a couple small steps separated the entrance of the house from their living room, which had old, grandma-looking couches with floral patterns. Emmet pulled his winter gear off, Gordon kicking his shoes off before setting Joshua down gently to unbundle him from all the layers he’d wrapped him up in.

“Mom?” Emmet called into the house. “He find her yet?”

“Oh, Emmet, you’re back!” A voice called from further inside. A woman appeared from around the corner, her long, wavy black hair matching Emmet’s. She had on a warm looking sweater and a long skirt, holding a kettle in her hand. “He just got back a few minutes ago, he’s putting her back in the barn now. Who’s this?”

“They crashed out there in all that snow.” Emmet explained as Gordon peeled off his own puffy coat and scarf. “I told ‘em they could stay here...”

“Well, of course!” Emmet’s mom said, smiling down at Joshua. “What’s your name?”

“Hot cho-cate!” Joshua demanded loudly as he began climbing up the steps into the living room.

Gordon snorted, scooping Joshua back up in his arms once they were freed of all their extra layers. “Sorry, sorry, I’ve been promising him hot chocolate all day once we got where were going...”

“Well, I can certainly get him some!” She said, turning away back into the kitchen.

“Oh, you don’t have to—I just really need a phone, is all...” Gordon said, keeping a firm grip on Joshua as he squirmed in his arms.

“Phone’s in the kitchen, here.” Emmet said, leading Gordon further inside. His mom was stood at the stove, already pouring something steaming into a mug. Emmet picked up a landline phone connected to the wall, sliding it across the counter towards Gordon. Gordon set the gnome down on the counter to free up a hand so he could pick up the receiver.

“I really can’t thank you enough, seriously.” Gordon said as he strained to remember Tommy’s phone number.

“No problem.” Emmet told him, looking anxiously at the back door.

Gordon opened his mouth, ready to ask Emmet a question, only to be interrupted by Tommy’s voice hardly a second later.

“Hello?” Tommy asked with a worried voice.

“Tommy! Hey.” Gordon greeted. “So, uhh, this storm—my car ate absolute shit, man. I don’t think we’re gonna make it out there for a good while.”

“I was—we were so worried, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy exclaimed. “The snow started coming down hard, and we hadn’t heard from you at all! We were starting to wonder if we should call someone...”

“Yeah, I guess you had good reason to worry.” Gordon told him with an exhausted laugh. “But we’re both okay. Someone picked us up, at least, so we’re not completely stranded.”

“That’s good.” Tommy said with a small sigh. “How far are you away from here?”

“I think probably only, like...an hour, hour and a half, if it weren’t snowing like this?” Gordon guessed. “Once the storm clears out, I guess we can figure out what to do from there.”

Gordon heard distant chatter on the other end, his friends clearly debating what to do.

“No, it’s too—these roads are too dangerous in a storm like this.” He could hear Tommy saying firmly. “I don’t know about—I guess I wouldn’t know your car, Dr. Coomer, but I know the 1995 Honda Civic isn’t recommended for snow like this. I wouldn’t guess your car is, either.”

“Yeah, hey, if you’re talking about coming and getting us, don’t even think about it.” Gordon said. “We’ve already got one crashed car between all of us, we don’t need another.”

“We’ll just...you should call us when the snow stops.” Tommy told Gordon. “Are you sure you’ll be okay until then?”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine.” Gordon said reassuringly. “Stay warm out there, okay? Don’t...”

Gordon paused at the sound of the back door opening, revealing a heavily bundled form covered in several layers of slightly frozen snow that cracked and slipped off the swishy fabric of the person’s coat, followed by a snow-covered border collie. They reminded Gordon of a couple of powdered donuts like this, or maybe a sled dog and their owner just coming back inside from an arduous journey. The dog stopped dead in its tracks, craning its neck and tilting its head a little as it looked at Gordon curiously; Gordon braced himself to be jumped on, but Emmet made a clicking noise with his tongue, and the dog immediately sat down. The mysterious person’s hood was up, obscuring their face from Gordon as they shook off the snow from their dark blue coat.

“Hey, how’re the cows?” Emmet asked, his casual voice betrayed by the way he anxiously drummed his fingers on the counter.

The voice that came out from under the mountain of snow stood by the back door made Gordon’s stomach drop. “Don’t try to milk ‘em now, man, all you’ll get is ice cream. Haha.”

Emmet let out a strained laugh as the receiver slipped out from Gordon’s hand. It clattered to the counter, finally catching the person’s attention; two gloved hands pulled the hood of the coat off, revealing a furred hunter’s hat that almost matched the color of the Black Mesa security guard helmets. Gordon couldn’t mistake those distinctive eyes, no matter how badly he wanted to disregard the person stood in front of him entirely.

“Benry?” Gordon shouted.

“Gordon?” Benry replied, looking exactly as shocked as Gordon felt.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Gordon demanded, turning his body slightly to hold Joshua away from Benry protectively.

“What do you mean? This is my house.” Benry said, furrowing his brow as he shucked off his coat and stepped in front of the dog, like he was creating a barrier between them. “The hell are you doing here, man?”

“Wh—I don’t—but...” Gordon struggled, finding himself at a loss for words for a moment. “Your house? But—no, no, that doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter whose house this is! I thought you were dead!”

“Uhh, yeah, that was real fuckin’ mean of you, by the way.” Benry said flatly. “I was trying to tell you shit, you didn’t even listen, you just killed me for like, no reason.”

Gordon laughed incredulously. “No reason? No reason? Dude, you were the one who like...Jesus, I don’t even know where to start! You caused so many problems, what the hell am I supposed to even say right now?”

“So this is Gordon?” Emmet’s mom asked, stepping around the counter to stand between Gordon and Benry.

“Christ, I knew it.” Emmet sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Figures this’d happen...”

“You knew it was him, and you still brought him here?” Benry asked, crossing his arms with an offended look.

“What was I supposed to do? He was stranded out there with a toddler, Ben.”

Benry grunted, looking down at the floor and kicking his boots off. “Man, I don’t even wanna see you right now...” He grumbled.

“You don’t wanna see me?” Gordon demanded. “I should be saying that to you! You tried to kill me!”

“You did kill me.” Benry pointed out bitterly.

“And on any other day, I’d kick you out of my house for killing my baby boy.” Emmet’s mom said, looking at Gordon with a firm expression. “But...I guess I can’t do that with a good conscience, with that storm...”

“Baby boy?" Gordon echoed with a baffled laugh. “Listen, I don’t think you even understand who—or what—this guy even is!”

“I understand perfectly well! He’s my son.” She replied, putting a hand to Benry’s shoulder. Benry looked away, muttering something under his breath as she did.

Gordon could only just stare at Benry in awe for a moment.

“Right...brother...” Gordon murmured, looking between Emmet and Benry. “So...this is your family?”

“Yeah, man.” Benry replied, picking at a stray thread on his hoodie. “Didn’t have anywhere to go after you killed me, so...”

Looking at Benry’s mom and brother, he couldn’t help but feel he wasn’t finding a strong resemblance—Emmet and his mother had a very similar, round face type and dark brown skin, contrasted by Benry’s slightly more gaunt look and paler skin. Maybe he was trying to pick this situation apart too much, though; it was possible he took after another parent much more, or perhaps he was adopted. It just felt surreal, after what he’d seen Benry become, to see him standing in a regular house with a seemingly regular family.

“Are-...are you not hearing this?” Gordon asked Benry’s mom earnestly. “He’s just openly admitting he came back to life after being killed, like—does this not concern you at all?”

“The only thing I’m concerned about is the fact that you killed him in the first place.” Benry’s mom said.

“I-...” Gordon shook his head before stopping. If this was his mom, what did that mean? He wondered. Was she some sort of alien or whatever Benry was, too? Was he in a house full of mysterious, humanoid creatures? He let out a quiet breath and turned back to the phone, still left on the counter. He picked up the receiver slowly and put it to his ear. “...Tommy? You still there?”

“Yeah, what’s happening over there, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asked.

“There’s, uh...” Gordon swallowed hard, his palm growing sweaty as he came to terms with what his situation very well may be. “There’s no way you can come get us, can you...?”

“I—we already said that the roads are too dangerous like this.” Tommy said. “Where are you right now? You said someone picked you up, right?”

“Uh...” Gordon didn’t know what to say, anymore. He’d clearly already agitated Benry and his family—he might as well be walking on hot coals, now. “Yeah. Yeah, someone picked us up. We’re in a house right now, so...no chance of freezing to death, for now...”

“Is there something wrong?” Tommy asked anxiously. “Should we call someone to—I mean, I don’t know who we’d call...”

“Just...stay here or whatever.” Benry interjected. Gordon turned to Benry, watching him stare at the floor with his arms still crossed. “Don’t gotta go make Tommy die on his way out here.”

Emmet sighed as he nodded in agreement. “Yeah. We don’t need anyone getting hurt over this.”

Gordon couldn’t help a grimace. So, what were his options? Risk his friends’ lives so they could come rescue him, risk his own and his son’s lives staying with these people who ranged from definitely to almost certainly not human, or risk his own and his son’s lives trying to rough it out in the snow to get somewhere safer? For however frustrated they all looked, though, at least Benry seemed to be on the same page for once, not wanting to talk to Gordon—maybe as long as he and Joshua laid low while they were here, they’d make it just long enough to meet up with the others.

“Fuck.” Gordon exhaled quietly before speaking into the phone again. “O-...okay. Yeah, Tommy, I guess I’ll see you later, once the storm dies down.”

“Okay, Mr. Freeman. You stay safe.”

Gordon gently hung up the phone, staring down at it for a few moments to avoid the inevitability of acknowledging Benry and his family again. Using his newly freed hand to pat Joshua, he looked up at them again, clearing his throat nervously.

“So, um...h-how long’s this storm supposed to last?” Gordon asked slowly.

Benry just eyed Gordon before walking away, Benry’s mom circling around the counter again to get back to the stove. Emmet didn’t look pleased to be left to talk to Gordon himself; where did he get off, acting like a victim here? Gordon wondered with frustration. As he opened his mouth to reply, Benry paused on the way to the staircase, turning back to look at the dog.

“C’mon.” He said, patting his thigh.

The dog looked to Benry before turning back to Gordon, letting out three low barks.

“Yeah, I know, I see him.” Benry replied flatly, as if he fully understood exactly what the dog was saying.

Emmet sighed, standing up straight and nodding at the dog. “Go ahead. Be nice.”

The dog quickly stood up, approaching to sniff Gordon cautiously. Gordon couldn’t help a small snicker, holding out his hand to allow her to smell before he gave her a cautious pat on the head.

“Is she okay with kids?” Gordon asked Emmet.

“Yeah, she loves them.” Emmet said, so Gordon set Joshua down, holding him by the shoulders as the dog sniffed him and Joshua pet her.

“That’s enough, Beef. C’mere.” Benry said suddenly, patting his thigh again.

Gordon couldn’t resist a snort as Benry walked away with the dog in tow. “Beef? Is that her name?”

“...Yeah. Benry picked it out.” Emmet said, brushing his fingers through his hair. “Anyway, as for the storm, it’s gonna be a huge pileup out there. To be honest with you, Gordon, I don’t think you’re gonna make it wherever you’re going for a while. Not from out here, anyway—these highways get plowed eventually, at least, but between that and the fact your car’s probably gonna get buried out there, it’s gonna be a hell of an effort to get out of here.”

“Fuck...” Gordon muttered again. “...Okay. Um...I-I’ll—we’ll just stay out of you guys’ way...”

Joshua gasped excitedly at the sound of a ceramic tap on the counter. Gordon followed Joshua’s gaze, finding Benry’s mom sliding a little mug of hot chocolate towards them.

“Oh. Shit, uhh—thanks.” Gordon said tentatively, picking the mug up to hand to Joshua. “What do we say, Josh?”

Joshua grasped the mug eagerly, trying to gulp it down, only to spill some on himself. He let out a surprised sound at the temperature, but at least it had sort of been sitting out for a minute, meaning it wasn’t dangerously hot. Gordon sighed, pulling the mug away.

“That’s why we’re careful with hot chocolate, dude.” Gordon scolded gently, pulling his sleeve down to wipe hot chocolate off his face. “Now you’re all sticky—well, stickier after the marshmallows, too. I could use you as a lint roller right now.”

“How old is he?” Benry’s mom asked as she handed him a damp paper towel.

“He just turned three.” Gordon replied, trying to keep the unease out of his voice as he cleaned Joshua’s face and hands off the best he could.

“What’s with the, uhhh...?” Emmet indicated vaguely at the gnome.

“I wish I could fucking tell you, man.” Gordon sighed, setting down the paper towel and returning the mug to Joshua. “Careful this time, okay?”

There was another brief awkward silence, Gordon occupying himself by making sure Joshua didn’t make a huge mess with the hot chocolate. He stole a sip for himself after a moment, eyes widening at the taste.

“Wow, this is some really good hot chocolate.” Gordon said with shock.

“Yeah, we use our own milk.” Emmet explained, nodding towards the back door that Benry had come in through.

“...Speaking of which, I’d better go check up on the cows.” Benry’s mom said, pulling her sleeves down and crossing her arms in preparation to head outside.

“Mom, c’mon, it’s too cold out, I’m sure Benry got them settled down just fine.” Emmet said, intercepting his mom before she could reach the door. “I don’t want you to get sick again...”

Gordon watched them curiously as Emmet ushered his mom towards the stairs, where she gave Gordon one last glance before she headed up. Emmet sighed, clapping his hands and rubbing them together.

“Well...I’d better show you where you guys can get settled in, too.” Emmet said, leading Gordon upstairs behind his mom.

The door at the very end of the hall was just barely closing by the time they reached the top; the door across from it was open already, Emmet leading them through it and turning on the light for them. There was a large, comfortable looking bed with a chair to the side, a bedside table, and an intricate, old-looking wardrobe. Gordon set Joshua down, letting him clamber excitedly up onto the bed.

“Um—thanks.” Gordon said, looking to Emmet. “For picking us up, and letting us stay. It’s just the absolute craziest coincidence you happen to be Benry’s brother. I don’t know what he’s told you about me, but...well, we’ll be outta here as soon as we can.”

Emmet sighed, running his fingers over the stubble on his chin and leaning against the doorframe. “It’s no problem, Gordon. I, uh...yeah. From what I hear from Benny, sounds like a lot happened to you guys. Just...”

Emmet paused, shaking his head and reaching for the doorhandle. “Bathroom’s down over there, across the hall. If you wanna take a bath or a shower to warm up, you’re welcome to.”

Gordon nodded, giving Emmet a quiet “thanks” as he left, shutting the door behind him. Gordon turned back to the room as Joshua flopped around on the bed. There were a few framed pictures on the walls; one showed Benry’s mom knelt down with a calf, another showing a couple more cows with their dog—somehow, Gordon found himself surprised to see actual, real photos of cows, as if he’d step out into their barn to find weird alien creatures they were simply trying to pass off as cows. Lastly, Gordon stopped at a small photo, showing Benry’s mom much younger than she was now with two kids. Gordon picked up the photo as he sat down on the edge of the bed. The older kid looked about ten, with long, wavy black hair and covered in dirt. The other child was probably about 6 or 7, wearing blue overalls and black hair pulled back in a ponytail, holding the hands of both family members tight. Logically, there was no mistaking who was who, but Gordon had to set the photo down before he thought about it too hard. Looking at it brought up too many questions.

It wasn’t very late, yet, but Gordon wished it was—he just wanted to put Joshua down to sleep, allowing him peace and quiet to watch the door vigilantly. Instead, Joshua was hyped up from the hot chocolate, and they were sitting on the bed across from each other playing a game they frequently revisited, where they took turns asking the gnome questions. Despite his reservations about the gnome, Gordon was usually eager to play this game when Joshua brought it up, hoping to find some sort of definitive proof for himself and his friends that this thing was more than just an average garden gnome.

“What’s your favorite...shape?” Joshua asked the gnome before pressing the button.

The gnome made some strange wheezing sounds before saying any actual words. “I’m hungry! You need to feed me or I will die!”

Gordon snorted, picking up the gnome for his turn. “What’s two plus three?”

“Stop! You are hurting my brain!”

Gordon and Joshua both laughed at that, Gordon jolting at a little clatter just outside their room. He stared at the shifting of shadows in the gap underneath their door; someone seemed to be walking away, having left something behind. After it was quiet enough for Gordon to decide they must be relatively alone again, he set the gnome aside and stood, opening the door just a little to peek out. As predicted, nobody was there. He looked down at the floor, finding a tray with a couple bowls of soup, some bread and crackers, more hot chocolate, and what looked like a pile of spare, folded clothes. Gordon picked everything up carefully, peering down the hall before closing the door quietly.

“Well...guess we get dinner after all.” Gordon said to Joshua, sitting on the edge of the bed and balancing the tray across his lap. It was truly a Herculean effort, getting a toddler to eat soup without spilling it all over someone’s guest bed—especially Joshua of all toddlers—but they managed to eat their dinner with minimal damage, and Gordon set the tray aside on the wardrobe. He unfolded the clothes next, finding adult-sized pajamas and even tiny, toddler-sized clothes—they might be a little big on Joshua, but at least they were clean. The tiny black t-shirt was worn and faded; it clearly used to have some screenprinted design on it, but was lost to time at this point.

Gordon caught himself holding the clothes close, considering taking Joshua to the bathroom Emmet had pointed out and getting warmed up with a bath, like he suggested. Emmet seemed nice enough, anyway—if it was just him, Gordon might not have felt so threatened in this house. Benry was still here, though, Gordon reminded himself. There was no way he was going to risk some kind of real life enactment of the shower scene from Psycho. He folded the pajamas back up and set them aside, pulling the covers on the bed down and urging Joshua to get comfortable. It took some effort to get Joshua to sleep, but once he was down, Gordon propped himself up comfortably on a pile of pillows and watched the door carefully.

[next]