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liveandlearn-kg · 3 years

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Live and Learn

Prologue - Act 2/3

Read on Archive of Our Own!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31463474/chapters/79061071#workskin

Previous Act: https://liveandlearn-kg.tumblr.com/post/652459405063995392/live-and-learn

Chapter Content Warnings: N/A

CHAPTER BELOW CUT:

Despite our initial impressions, the two of us thought we would eventually find something of note that would explain where we are or why we’re here. However, the more we explored, the more we realized just how vast the land was. Loop-de-loops to run across, log bridges to cross, beautiful waterfalls that painted over a baby blue sky, and platforms that were both grounded and floating in the sky. The grass that was striped with different shades of green seemed to go on and on, seemingly only stopped by checkerboard dirt walls that held the grass on top of it. To say the place was expansive would have been underestimating it, as the land before us seemed to loop forever.

“I wonder when this’ll end?” Tails wonders aloud, as we roamed the landscape. I couldn’t help but agree with his question silently, not having an answer.

The land felt fake, but real at the same time. We hadn’t known where we were, everything was just too unfamiliar.

It was only seconds later we heard a new, feminine voice come out from above us, “You might not wanna step there fox boy.” it says.

However, the warning was too late, as Tails took one step forward, before stopping where he was to look up towards wherever the voice came from. The ground beneath him began to shake, before giving out and crumbling into dust in seemingly one second. The fox cries out in surprise, scrambling for the edge as the dirt seemed to disappear into nothingness. I run over in panic and grab his hand, pulling him up to safe ground. He panted, holding onto my own hand in a vice grip as he caught his breath, only letting go when he seemingly composed himself again.

“Told ya’ so,” the voice comments, causing Tails and I to look up again. There, on a platform above us was a white bat sitting with her legs both crossed and hanging off it. She had a cat-like smirk on her face, before jumping down from her perch in front of us. “Look down there,” she states, pointing to where the pit was.

The two of us look back to where the platform was, and I couldn’t have been more thankful I had stepped in even more. “Oh.” I state, not finding the right words to say. Tails seemed to be in the same boat, shocked at what was once below him. There was a pit filled with sharp, iron spikes that seemed to be able to puncture anything.

“Yeahhh this place is loaded with death traps like that, you might wanna watch your step.” the bat says as though this was a casual thing. She puts a hand on her hip, “Anyways,” she starts, putting emphasis on the n, “Hi strangers, I’m gonna assume you don’t happen to know where we are?” she asks.

As he hid his second tail around the first one, Tails shook his head, “Sorry.”

She shrugs, “Eh, it was worth a shot. So beside that, I’m just gonna assume you’re Ultimates like everyone else.”

That got an eyebrow raise from me, “So there’s more of us here?”

“Yep” she confirmed, popping the p as she glanced at her surroundings, before turning her head back to us. “What’re your guys’ names?”

I started first, pointing towards myself with a proud thumb, “They call me Sonic the Hedgehog! But Blue Blur, and Fastest Thing Alive are common nicknames for myself if you prefer those. I’m what the news refers to as the Ultimate Trackstar.” I brag.

Tails leads off of me, “And I’m the Ultimate Mechanic. My nickname is Tails.”

The bat nods, “Ah, I see who’s the more modest of you two,” she snarks, “After those two tails of yours right?” Tails looks surprised, before giving a sort of dejected look. She adds on, “Yeah you don’t do a good job of hiding them. But relax, they’re pretty neat. Just don’t try hiding them anymore, it looks silly when you do.”

“Oh… Okay…” Tails simply replies, folding his hears while looking embarrassed.

“Now, with that out of the way,” the bat starts, “You can call me Rouge the Bat. Like you two, I’m an Ultimate, the Ultimate Phantom Thief to be precise,” she states casually with a mischievous smirk.

“A PHANTOM THIEF?!” I cry in surprise.

Tails seemed to be taken aback by her response too, “Rouge the Bat?! As in THE person behind the heist of the Illusion Sapphire?!” Illusion Sapphire?

Rouge merely smirks, “The one and only,” she replies with a wink in our direction. I begin to scold myself internally for not being familiar with all these accomplishments or faces, just a consequence of deciding to not familiarize myself with the daily news.

“What’s a thief like yourself doing here?” I ask, trying to push aside the fact that I didn’t know this… accomplishment of hers, raising an eyebrow at her.

Rouge waves me off with a single hand with pursed lips, “Relax kid, it’s not like I steal from anyone. Besides if I had an answer I’d tell you, but like everyone else I can’t tell ya a single thing I know. I was just inspecting my jewel collection and then suddenly I fainted and I woke up here,” she explains, putting a hand on her hip and looking off to the side. “Just like you guys, am I right?”

I slowly nod, “Yes…? How did you know?” I could tell my eyebrow wasn’t going down anytime soon, as her behavior made me question her more and more.

The bat shrugs, “It’s the common trend. You two haven’t met anyone else here besides yourselves, so it makes sense you wouldn’t know. Everyone else has recounted similar experiences. They just have different beginnings, so I’m just assuming its nearly the same for everyone.”

Tails nods, “I see…” he trails off, looking to the side. He appeared to be thinking deeply about something. Both Rouge and I raised an eyebrow, but we didn’t say a thing.

I look towards Rouge, thinking back to her ultimate. “So you really are a great thief, huh?”

She nods, “You’d be surprised at just what kinda security I can weave through to get what I want. Luckily for you, it’s something I could never catch you all with. I’m only after jewels, so you don’t have to worry about anything. Unless you have one…” she explains, giving a mischievous smirk with her eyes sparkling at the mere thought of gems.

I cringe, “Nah, it’s not that I’m worried about being stolen from, it’s just the morality of it.”

She shrugs, “Suit yourself.”

“Anyways, you all should follow me. I’ve been scouting this place for other people before taking them back to this one spot. Everyone else should be there.” Rouge explains, motioning back behind her.

Tails looks in the direction she pointed towards, “So there are more people here besides us?” he asks, making a curious expression.

She nods, “Yeah, including us there’s 18 people in total so far, and given a trend I assume you’re the last of them.”

“What trend?” I ask.

Rouge just jumps in the air, flapping her wings and taking flight, “Follow with me and find out!” she yelled, causing Tails and I to look between us. I just gave him a shrug. She began to fly towards the direction she motioned towards. We took off in a run to follow her closely, being lead to where everyone else was, hopefully.

It took a while, after being suffocated in nothing but an ocean of green and brown. After a while though, we were greeted with a new splash of color, a splash of many colors actually. We met so many different faces of many different shapes.

“I have two more!” Rouge called, waving the group over. Everyone turned towards us, taking a look to see who it was. Rouge flew down and landed next to the group, “If everyone here is an Ultimate in the news then, they should be the last ones.”

“Everyone’s an Ultimate?” I asked, walking up to everyone else.

“Yeah, and if there’s eighteen known Ultimates then we’re probably the only eighteen people here,” explains a pink hedgehog. I nod, making a mental note about the number of ultimates. I admittedly didn’t knowing just how many there were, just that there were a lot. I look over a Tails who was by my side, making a nod that seemed to indicate whatever he was thinking about was confirmed.

Suddenly a little rabbit in an orange dress weaved out of the crowd, pulling a large purple cat in a belt by the hand. They ran up to Tails and me with hope in their eyes, “Um! Excuse me!” she called in a soft voice, “Have you seen a chao with a red bow tie or a frog with a tail?” she asked. “They were with us when we fainted and they never leave our side, but we haven’t seen them here. So we’re really worried…”

Tails frowns and scratches his head, “I’m sorry, but we haven’t seen anything like them since we woke up here. Just Rouge and you guys.”

The rabbit and cat share a dejected look, “Ah… okay…” the rabbit simply stated with a sigh.

“Froggy…” the cat mutters,

The pink hedgehog runs up to the two with a sympathetic look on her face, “Hey it’s okay, if anything it just means they’re probably away from here. When we get out we’ll go looking where you fainted, I’m sure they’re just as worried as you are,” she reassured with a gentle voice. The rabbit and cat merely nod. She then turned to us with a hand outstretched, “Hey, we haven’t introduced ourselves yet. I am Amy Rose, the Ultimate Fortune Teller. I assume you two are Sonic the Hedgehog and Miles Prower, the Ultimate Track Star and Ultimate Mechanic respectively.”

I look at Tails who was wearing a flustered look on his place, “Your name is Miles Prower?”

He began to knead his second tail and look off to the side, “Y-yeah. It’s embarrassing, I know. Miles Per Hour and all that haha... “ he explained, trying to give his best grin despite his obvious embarrassment.

I shake my head, “Yeah I can see why you would prefer a nickname over that,” I simply state, “Would you prefer me to still call you Tails?” I ask. Tails just nods as a sign of affirmation, not saying a word. I then turn to Amy, who had a questioning look on her face, “Anyways, yeah that’s us. But Miles prefers Tails over his actual name.”

Amy nods, giving Tails a thumbs up, “Tails, gotcha. I’m sure everyone else is willing to call you that, I don’t see why people wouldn’t be willing to,” she says. She looks back over at the crowd, who don’t voice any objections. She then turns back to the rabbit and the cat, “Why don’t we all introduce ourselves to them individually, to familiarize ourselves with each other, before we discuss the situation at hand. Let’s start with you two.”

The rabbit nodded with an “Mhm!” She slapped her cheeks with both her hands gently twice, before introducing herself, “Hello Mr. Sonic, Mr. Tails, my name is Cream the Rabbit, I’m the Ultimate Pet Sitter,” she said with a gentle voice, bowing her head. “It’s nice to meet you!”

The cat then continued off of her, “And I am Big the Cat. I am the Ultimate Fisherman.” He looked at us with an almost dead look in his eyes, but that didn’t really bother me. He seemed nice enough for the most part.

After Big was a silver hedgehog with sparkling, excited eyes. He waved excitedly, “Me next! My name is Silver the Hedgehog! They call me the Ultimate Psychic! It’s nice to meet you two.”

Another purple cat in a purple dress with a ponytail then followed up on him, noticeably more aloof than him, “My name is Blaze the Cat. Despite the inaccuracy of the title I’ve been assigned, I am what the public calls the Ultimate Pyrotechnician.”

We looked over towards Rouge, who was now next to a black and red hedgehog who had his arms crossed, and the big robot who seemed to constantly be glaring at us. She noticed the two of us were looking in her direction, as she then elbowed the hedgehog gently, “C’mon Shadow, introduce yourself,” she nudged slightly.

The hedgehog, who I assumed to be named Shadow, grunted. He looked up at the two of us, “The names’ Shadow the Hedgehog, and I am the Ultimate Life Form.” My eyes widened a bit, given how I was within the vicinity of THE Ultimate Life Form. I had only heard about him through word of mouth, and he seemed more like an idea than an actual person. But… here he is! It’s surprising to even here an Ultimate Life Form even exists.

The robot then went after Shadow, stating his name and title.. well, robotically. “I AM E-123 OMEGA, THE ULTIMATE MACHINE, AND THE ULTIMATE E-SERIES ROBOT.” I look over at Tails, who seemed to be a bit nervous at the sight of Omega, but I figured I’d ask him later when we weren’t in the middle of something else. Like now.

A red wolf then waved in our direction shyly with a hand behind his back. He had a large pair of red glasses resting on his muzzle and a utility belt of sorts placed across his chest. “Hi, I’m Gadget the Wolf. You can call me Gadget though. I’m the Ultimate Gunman, but I don’t actually shoot people so don’t worry. I just do sports, think of the shooting events from the Olympics,” he explained almost frantically.

A red armadillo then raised his hand above the crowd, making himself known to us. “We’ll go next!” He announced. He had a friendly and warm smile, obviously attempting to maintain a non-threatening appearance. Close by his side was a yellow flying squirrel wearing a baby blue scarf and a pair of goggles in the same shade. He was noticeably more excitable just by a quick look, wearing a big, unapologetic grin. “The name’s Mighty the Armadillo, and the news calls me the Ultimate Wayfarer. Hope we can be friends!”

The squirrel next to him nodded, “Yeah, what he said!” he continued, before before going off on his own introduction. “Ray the Flying Squirrel, you can call me Ray. I’m the Ultimate Navigator AND Mighty’s partner.”

Tails nodded, giving a slight chuckle, “Well, you do seem to be very close from what the news would say about you two.” The squirrel nodded eagerly, with Mighty giving a light chuckle at his friend.

A green hawk grunted, letting out an “ahem”, making himself known and drawing all eyes onto him. He had a prideful look on his face that was near sly. If I had to say anything from first glance, it was that he probably thought he was the most important thing in the world. “The name’s Jet the Hawk. I’m the Ultimate Racer, a title which I officially won at the World Grand Prix.” He announced with a smug grin as he cracked his knuckles, “And if I had to guess, I’m the only one here with an official title.”

As much as I wanted to challenge that, the rest of us just kinda ignored him, as a strange group of three just moved on from Jet’s bragging. The hawk let out a sound of surprise at the rest of us just kinda said ‘cool.’ A crocodile pointed at himself with pride beaming from him, “I’m Vector the Crocodile, the Ultimate Detective-“

A purple chameleon led off of him, posing by raising two fingers to his face and looking down. “I am Espio the Chameleon, Ultimate Ninja-“

A bee then flew up behind the three, pumping an excited fist up, “AND I’M CHARMY BEE! ULTIMATE ASSISTANT!”

The three then posed in unison, with the three of them quickly lining up uniformly. Vector raised an “ok” sign of sorts with a wink, with Charmy jumping onto his shoulder with a thumbs up, and Espio leaned up onto the crocodile, crossing his arms. “The three of us make up the Chaotix! We leave no case unsolved, so long as you pay the right price,” Vector stated.

I couldn’t help but hold a giggle back. There was an air of chaotic silliness to them, not helped by the wacky personalities emanating from them after just a mere introduction. I could tell I wasn’t the only one who wanted to laugh, given the hawk’s wide eyes and shut beak. Tails nudged me in the shoulder, telling me everything he wanted to say. I immediately attempted to compose myself, and it worked for the most part, but I still couldn’t help but let out a small huff of laughter.

There was one last person among the crowd who I had yet to pin a name too. Tails and I looked over at a red echidna with purple eyes, who had an aloof look to him. He noticed the two of us were looking at him with an expectant look, before nodding. “Knuckles the Echidna, Ultimate Treasure Hunter.” He stated simply, giving everything we really needed to know.

I made a mental note of all names and talents, figuring they’d be useful for later down the line. If not to talk with them, at least for conversation starters to look like I made an active choice to keep up with whatever the public was raving about nowadays. It wasn’t as though I had a dislike for it, far from it, I just wasn’t interested in it for the most part. I just wanted to do my thing, ya know?

Amy nodded, before turning back to us. “Well, that’s all of us. Eighteen Ultimates, eighteen people. Now…” she said, tapping her chin as she lowered her glance into a thinking look, “Do you two have any chance of knowing where we are? Why we’re here?” She asked, looking back with a somewhat hopeful look in her eyes.

Tails shook his head, “Sorry, but no. In fact we were hoping you all would have some form knowledge of something like that.”

Amy gave Tails a regretful look, shaking her head. “Sorry, not even Vector knows a thing.”

Vector nodded, “She’s right. The only clue we have is our identities and what’s on us, but that’s about it. Everyone else gave their own testimonies, but they’re all similar. We all were doing our own thing before being knocked out, suddenly waking up in this weird field.”

“‘What’s on you’…?” Tails repeated with an inquiring voice.

“Those of us who had them on us at the time, such as Amy and Espio, woke up with weapons on them.” Knuckles answered as though it was a matter of a fact, “You wouldn’t happen to have any on you two, would you?” the echidna asked.

The orange fox then waved his hands frantically, “No no not at all!” He answered, before then looking to the side, “That is concerning though… why would we wake up with weapons on us…?” He whispered to himself.

Jet snorted, “You’re telling me. We all black out n’ then wake up in this new place with death traps littered all over, some of us having weapons too! It’s as though this place was made to kill us.” A couple let out noises of agreement, and I couldn’t help but follow them.

I tsked, muttering a ‘damn’. To myself. But then a lightbulb went off in my head, “But this is an open field, right?” I asked.

Mighty confirmed my question, “As far as we know, yeah.”

“Well couldn’t I just run to find the nearest town to figure out where we are? I could probably find info and get us outta here quickly!” I explained. Wow Sonic, why hadn’t you thought about this sooner! I made my mark, raising one leg, ready to take off-

“That’s not gonna work.” A raspy voice interrupted, I look up to who made themself known, seeing it come from a certain black and red hedgehog. “I already tried that, but the place loops.” He stated as a matter of fact.

I shrug, I didn’t believe him for a second. “How could it loop? The place has to end at some point.”

Silver then interjected, “Yeah, it shouldn't be possible. I think Sonic should try it out, it wouldn’t take very long.”

Shadow didn’t argue with that, placing a hand on his hip, “You’re asking the wrong guy, I don’t know how it’s possible, but that’s how it is. You can try running in a straight line if you want, but it’ll give you the same results as it did me.”

I took him up on his offer, “You don’t have to ask me twice!” I started, before taking off with a streak of blue and the wind following close by.

I felt the wind blow through my quills as I ran as fast as I felt, knowing the world around me would be a blur no matter how fast I ran. However, the more I ran, the brown and green would continue. And despite the blurred look around me, I could swear some locations felt as though I had seen them earlier before. All before I was met with a familiar crowd of colors and faces. I pressed my foot roughly on the ground, coming to a screeching halt.

“Holy shit he’s right.” I simply state with wide eyes. “I ran straight, I swear I made no turns, and yet I ended back here.” The crowd gasped.

Shadow just gave me a look that simply just told me, ‘told ya so’, with as much of a gloomy look you could have with that expression.

Cream let out a cry of terror, “D-does this mean we’re trapped?” She asked with a shaky voice. A twinge of fear ran down my spine, as it suddenly hit me what Jet pointed out earlier. What he said couldn’t have been true, absolutely not.

Amy quickly came to the rabbit’s side, getting on her knees, “No, we’ll be out of here eventually,” she comforted, to the best of her abilities anyways.

“Well how would we?” called out Jet with a hint of annoyance paired with panic in his voice, “cuz as far as I’m aware, we’re stuck here with a bunch of death traps and weapons!”

Mighty inched closer to Ray, with a protective look on his face, and Tails’ tails stiffened. Amy furrowed her expression, and was about to disprove him, but the squirrel interjected before the pink hedgehog could say a thing. “But that can't be true! What kind of person would do such a thing?”

Rouge, on the other hand, sides with the green hawk. “Hate to agree with Jet, but he’s right. It’s almost as if the only way to escape from this place is through death.”

“Well there has to be some other way out!” yelled Gadget. “We’re stuck in a looping plane but SOMEONE has to know where we are!”

“But you guys said we are the only Ultimates, so we have to be the only people here!” pointed out Knuckles, who was now wearing a more worked up look on his voice.

“THE ECHIDNA WOULD BE CORRECT. ALL SEVENTEEN ORGANIC LIFE FORMS DETECTED WITHIN THE VICINITY ARE PRESENT.” confirmed Omega.

“Well then why are we here?” asked Espio, “Someone obviously brought us to this place so someone has to know.”

“Well I have a lot to say to the person who brought us here…” announced Knuckles, who was now riled up.

“But-“ Charmy started, before he was interrupted suddenly by a new voice that rang out from seemingly nowhere.

“And we are here to answer that!” it said, causing me to go into a sort of defensive position as I wildly looked for a source by moving only my head. My gloves were clenched and my knees were bent. And I could tell others were alert too, as this voice only added to the widespread fear between us all.

A stage seemed to grow from the ground, manifesting from seemingly nowhere and nothing. It was made of wood, and had a set of beams standing up from the sides, carrying yet another beam on top that carried a red curtain. Our entire group let out gasps of surprise rang out, with cries of “How?” and “How is that possible?” echoing among the crowd.

We weren’t able to revel in our disbelief though, as from the stage a little robot popped out with confetti and streamers surrounding it. Right as it was about to land, the robot began to float, refusing to make contact with the ground. I let out a hiss though, as I got an eyeful of what this robot was.

The thing was a stubby one, that’s for sure. It was painted black and white, one side lighter, the other darker. The way I’m describing it doesn’t seem so bad at first. But what if I told you it had two heads. One side an orb, and one side a cube. The orb was painted all black, and had glowing red eyes, whereas the cube was white, and had cyan eyes that would glow just like the orb’s. Sure it isn’t horrifying, but it’s the least bit creepy.

I could tell others agreed with me too, as Cream let out a yell of surprise and looked away, as Mighty simply noted under his breath, “Well isn’t that creepy.” Tails’ ears seemed to stretch slightly as they stood up high, and even Shadow had wide eyes.

The orb started first, “Welcome to Green Hill Zone!”

“I am Orbot-“

“-and I’m Cubot!”

“And together we make Monobot! We’ll be your host for the game!”

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lokisasylum · 3 years

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Check In Tag!

Tagged by : @parkandblues (thanks, hun 🦋)

1. Why did you choose your url?

“lokisasylum”... I think i’ve explained this a lot, but “Loki” is a nickname I was given since my school days because I was a hardcore trickster & would get away with anything and everything. I also recall being VERY persuasive when caught until I got off the hook. While “Asylum” comes from an album by Disturbed (one of the bests I own).

2. Any sideblogs? If you have them name them and why you have them?

Yep, @arsenicbutterfly which is like an aesthethic/anime/cyberpunk/steampunk/grunge blog, and I also have @lokirasengan-fc which I originally created with the intention of moving all my fanart/artwork (also promote my Society6 & Redbubble shops) to in order to separate my main blog for BTS news/post and that one for artwork but none of my mutuals really followed me on it so its basically a dead blog >_>

3. How long have you’ve been on tumblr?

I think since 2010 which is the same year the (Disturbed) “Asylum” album came out.

4. Do you have a queue tag?

I don’t know, never really thought about it.

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

Hmm... I remember 2009-2010 to be a very chaotic years.

- the Death Note fandom went up in flames due to the MILLIONS of cases of cyber bullying (some ending in s**cide). I remember being part of this RP group within the fandom that I ended up quitting when I got admitted into Graduate School and because 2 of the oldest members ended up being actual PSYCHOS. (Which is why I also quitted roleplaying)

- Deviantart was rumored to either be shutting down or heading into a worse fate since they started censoring Mature Art/Literature/Fanfics (I remember all the artists who had their 20something chaptered fics and comics OBLITERATED off the site without a reason). So many people left DA for other blogs and I remember thinking the same, that I needed to migrate elsewhere. I tried 2 new social medias that eventually disappeared with less than a year of existence and then there was tumblr with had apparently been created for that very purpose (as a refuge for artists & people in general who were disappointed or got screwed over by the system). Which is funny because tumblr ended up the same way...

I still kept both my DA accounts active and I still post ALL of my artwork/photography there.

6. Why did you choose your icon?

I usually changed my icon frequently, but this recent/current icon is special to me, because it was made as a tattoo design for my Jikook Vampire fic (Forever, You Said) of a butterfly trapped between a Full Moon/New Moon. Its a matching tattoo between jikook (Jimin’s is a yellow butterfly inside a new moon, while JK’s is a blue butterfly inside a full moon). Meant to symbolize how both existed in the same timeline separated by two worlds with Jimin being a vampire and Jungkook being human, but their lives got intertwined since their first meeting.

7. Why did you choose your header?

[I legit had to go back and check what my header was ‘cause i forgot]

Because I mean... Its Park Motherfucking Jimin.

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

Like... this month? I think its the post about BTS as Flower Spirits from the HYBE museum.

9. How many mutuals do you have?

Few but I love them (same)

10. How many followers do you have?

635... damn, when did that happened?? WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?!

11. How many people do you follow?

Like 14ish? Most of them were fanartists I really admired, but sadly most of them aren’t active or left for Twitter cause people kept coming to tumblr to steal their art and post it on twitter/instagram. So they moved to twitter in order to have some “control” over their works, but now people steal their art from Twitter and come to post it on Tumblr 🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️

And this is why I still post most of my art on Deviantart.

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

I... I dunno, have I? Oo

13. How often do you use tumblr each day?

24hrs/7 days a week, I never really log out of tumblr. So I just wake up, eat breakfast/lunch (whatever’s available at 11am), do chores around the house, make sure my fam’s healthy, fed and comfy before I jump back into tumblr where I kill off most of the day and night. If I’m not here I’m on deviantart or Ao3.

14. Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? Who won?

I usually avoid going to other blogs to argue per se because most of these blogs that shitpost for the sake of creating conflict are very young and very ignorant. They never see reason/logic even when you slap ‘em across the face with receipts. So I don’t bother.

HOWEVER, ain’t afraid to calling people out through my own posts from time to time without the need to name names. If it fits, it ships and if you offended that’s a YOU problem.

15. How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

I avoid them as much as possible. I’m like Taehyung on that note, I’m the type of person that if you try to force me to do something and I see no benefit (for me) in it? I won’t do it.

16. Do you like tag games?

Yes, they’re fun and break the monotony.

17. Do you like ask games?

I do... but no one ever interacts with me for them 🙃

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Eehh.. maybe @utopiajeon , @debrenner , @aikimei

19. Do I have a crush on a mutual?

I mean I love them and think they’re awesome people, but I also think of them as the children I don’t plan on having in the future. LOL

20. Tags?

@utopiajeon @doctorcerberus @i-like-plain-rice @corkytheguar anyone who wants to do it!🌸

#tag #tag game #tag meme #for fun #mutuals

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spnreactions · 4 years

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15x15: Gimme Shelter

Alright guys! It’s time!

Just a heads up, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, these posts usually come out later in the day, because even if I watch it live, I tend to do my reactions live, but then write up the full review later. In case you were wondering why the posts don’t usually come right away.

Anyways! Let’s get down to it!

Oof. Yep. We’re definitely on the serious track now, with a then like this.

Also, I didn’t say this before, but I really love the “then” and “now” openings for this season. It’s beautiful with the Impala like that. <3

Oof. Interesting flashback to Jack breaking out of the Ma’lak Box.

...ew. Maybe it doesn’t taste as gross as it looks, but it looks gross.

Jesus girls, chill.

Okay, I already like the pastor.

I’m watching live this week, and I’m in a FB group that’s commenting as we watch, and someone just pointed out that the pastor is Dr. Sexy MD!! Man I love when actors return like that.

Ope. Connor’s gonna die. Poor kid. He seemed nice.

...that teddy bear definitely wasn’t there when he was walking over before, but okay.

UMMMMM...TALKING TEDDY!

NO THANK YOU!!!

I HAVE A DOLL THING!!! NOT COOL!!!

Hmmm...gotta be honest, I’m not sure how I’m feeling about Cohen’s directing on this one. :/

It had a talking teddy bear. I bet it is.

Darkness. Nice pun.

“He’s not that funny.” XD XD

Dean you just want to go to Atlantic City whether Amara’s there or not don’t even deny it. XD

Cas’s confused face will always be one of the cutest things ever. <3

I love the way they’re all walking down the hallway together. It’s such a simple thing, but I like the way they’re positioned and everything. Point: Matt Cohen.

SCENE FROM THE PROMO!

Sure they can.

“She and I used to have a thing” DEAN!! XD XD

HIIIII JACK!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Dude, let me tell you, I am so ready for some quality Cas and Jack content.

I love all the different reactions here. Dean is trying to get Cas and Jack out of the house, which Jack is super excited about, and Cas is very not into. XD

...wait, did they not tell him about Mrs. Butters? Or did they just not mention her name?

Cas looking at Sam like “help me out here” and Sam being like “sorry but no”. XD

Oh come on Cas. Look how excited Jack is! I love how enthusiastic he gets over every hunt. It’s adorable and I love him. (Yeah you’re gonna be hearing that a lot. XD)

Cas is like “you’re kidding me right?”

“Highway to Heaven” XD XD

THE SCENE!!

MY BABY IS SO EXCITED I LOVE HIS LITTLE SMILE AHHHH!!!!

No matter how Cas is against going to deal with something so small fry when they’re in the middle of something so huge, he will still smile affectionately at his son, because he loves him. <3 <3 <3

“Blue’s a good color on you.” XD XD <3 <3

“Agent Swift.” XD XD XD XD

“Agent Lovato.” I’M DEAD THESE TWO ARE THE BEST!!! XD XD XD XD

HE’S HOLDING HIS BADGE UPSIDE DOWN JUST LIKE CAS DID ON HIS FIRST HUNT I’M DEAD!! XD XD XD <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

A BABY YODA REFERENCE?! This show oh my god. XD XD XD

“I just graduated from CSI.” JACK OH MY GOD YOU ADORABLE LITTLE BEAN!!! XD XD <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Okay, I love watching Cas and Jack together, and I love watching them go on a hunt, but guys, could you at least TRY to be subtle? “Did you find tiny bags with chicken bones? Smell any sulfur? Feel cold?” Like, NO you two. XD XD

The cop lady is just like “what the heck is wrong with these two?”

Oh. “Liar” isn’t a seven deadly sin thing. Maybe I was wrong about that.

“For my stepson, Ronald.” JACK!! XD XD XD <3 <3 <3 I love him so much oh my god.

For someone who’s new to hunting, that was actually an awesome cover. <3 <3

Wait...speakers? Maybe it isn’t something supernatural after all?

“Almost demonic.” Okay so that was a little more subtle.

Okay Cohen, I take back what I said about your directing. That was a good shot of the stop sign.

I love the way Jack’s sitting in the back of the truck. <3 <3

Learning from Sam. <3 <3 <3��

Cas, there is no such thing as too many cats. His face when he says that though. XD

THAT ENTIRE SEQUENCE ABOUT PARENT/GUARDIAN PERMISSION I’M DYING HOLY FRICK!!! XD XD XD XD <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

That was both the cutest and funniest thing ever and I just...I LOVE THEM AHHHH!!! <3 <3 <3 <3

I feel like Cas is upset though. Like, he’s extra frustrated with the whole Amara and God thing. Not that I blame him of course. He’s just got a certain...coldness to him in this episode. But I like how it disappears whenever he’s talking to Jack. <3 <3 Good acting on Misha’s part.

For example, that little soft smile when he looks over at Jack logging in to the social media account is so sweet and so cute and so undeniably fatherly. <3 <3

Okay, gotta be honest: British demon? Totally hot.

"Why is he talking like that?” he whispers, very loudly in a way that the party he is speaking of can definitely hear him. XD XD <3 <3

“Because Zack has style.”

WAIT!!!

He’s not ACTUALLY British??!!

Oh my god that shouldn’t have made me laugh, but it TOTALLY did.

AND he made the “Highway to Heaven” reference just like Dean did!

I love this demon holy frick. XD XD

Cas’s and Jack’s confused expressions at his sudden change. XD

“I would watch that show.” XD XD

How this show manages to introduce a new character, however brief, and give him so much personality when we’re six episodes from the end is beyond my understanding, but man, it is one of the many reasons I love this show. <3

Ha! “Demons are get, humans are just crazy” ring a bell?

Ha! Of course Rowena has that philosophy. God I miss her.

“You’re a deviant soul corrupted by Hell.” Ah, Cas, ever quick with the logical wit. XD

Cas’s “and we’re done”. XD

Zack is so desperate.

And now, Zack is all of us during COVID. XD

I love Zack. Take him with you. XD <3

Oof. Too true, Cas. Too true.

Awww...Jack.

AWWW! Cas!!! Knowing his son wanted to be busy and help people. I LOVE THEM!!!

THOSE SMILES AT EACH OTHER OH MY GOD SO CUTE!!! <3 <3 <3

She’s gonna steal the money.

Yep. Classy lady. *eye roll*

Ope. And now she’s gonna die.

AHHHH!!

OKAY I TAKE THAT BACK!! BRING THE TEDDY BEAR BACK!! SCARY MASK IS WORSE!!!

My mom and I both screamed jesus christ.

“Focused.” Interesting phrasing, but okay.

I like the way this phone call is happening. The back and forth is cool, and I like their easy talk with each other.

Dean can’t just give straight advice. Ever. “Drink the Kool-Aid and sign up.” XD

Oof. Jesus.

Clearly Dean wasn’t talk about the Amara thing.

Wait, this was over a two-day timeline? Huh. Okay then.

Dean that doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect you stop.

“Messengers of God’s Destruction”.

No, but did any of us?

“Least this time it’s not you or me.” Yeah, yet.

That look Sam gives him means he had the same thought I did.

Okay sorry, I am super not religious, and the God speak makes me want to barf.

HA! JACK! XD

See, this is why you have to give straight advice, Dean. I know that’s hard for you, being your chaotic bi self and all, but angels tend to take things literally, bud. XD

Jack you dork. XD <3

Geez girl. Be nice.

Jack whispering again to try to be sneaky I love him. <3

So that’s a yes then.

Jesus. She’s a b***h. I don’t like her.

That little head nod OMG!! <3 <3

I LOVE THE CAS AND JACK TEAM UP THEY’RE SO CUTE!! <3 <3

Oh. That was a sweet hug.

My Mom: It’s him. It’s the pastor. He’s the bad guy.

Oh! Greed! So this is a seven deadly sins thing!

Ummm....that’s a little weird. Maybe this is as monster after all, with the tech working like that?

But if it was a monster, why is she set up like that?

Okay no, I take that back. I watch Criminal Minds, and this totally looks like something a serial killer would do. Especially the timer thing.

“The new guy’s hot.” MEEEEE. That girl is me. XD <3 <3 <3

EVERY. SINGLE. THING. JACK. DOES. IS. SO. STINKING. ADORABLE. <3 <3 <3 <3

Boyfriend and girlfriend, I’m guessing?

Awww...baby. :(

Awww...Jack. :( :(

Okay but, like, we’ve learned now, right? Don’t give her your whole story please and thank you.

Oh okay. That’s okay.

This girl is...off. Is it the acting, or is the character actually weird? I honestly can’t tell.

Oof. Daddy issues alert.

“I have more dads than most.” AWWW!!! XD XD XD <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Wait baby no, you’re not letting them down stop that. :( :( :(

Ew. “Put your trust in God, not people.” Now I hate her. Trust me honey, the last person Jack--or anybody, for that matter--should be putting his faith in is God.

Oh okay then.

Ha! I love Cas’s subtle little sass with the “faith-based community”.

Oh. A.V. and tech. TV screen. Bingo.

Yeah I don’t think it’s the pastor. He seems too innocent.

...except he’s definitely not getting any father-of-the-year awards. But what else is new with this show.

“It’s complicated.” What are you talking about?? Just say yes, Cas.

Awww...soft side of Cas. <3

Yeah no. It’s not the pastor. There’s no way. It must be that Brother Rudy dude.

Ha! Awkward. XD

That’s actually really nice. I like that idea, having a church community (sorry--faith-based community) helping other people like that. It’s sweet.

Oh. Connor was gay. That honestly totally makes sense. Poor guy. :(

I’m glad the pastor was accepting of him though! <3 <3

Awww...that’s a good line. “A saint is a sinner who keeps trying.”

I really hope it’s not the pastor. I like him.

My Mom: Wait, have we just never seen them put gas in the car before? I had no idea it was behind the license plate!

I’m thinking back and I didn’t know that either, so this must be the first time we’ve actually seen them, like, open it, and that’s HILARIOUS to me. XD

OOOOH WAIT!! This is where they see Amara, according to the promo photos!!

Oh heeeey girl.

Wow she looks really pretty with that snow in her hair.

She...she...smelled them?

“You have a very distinctive musk.” “Thank you.” ARE THESE TWO STILL PINING FOR EACH OTHER? XD XD XD

I like this Amara. She’s fun.

My family and I always make kielbasa with our pierogis (I had no idea that that was how that was spelled, btw), so pierogis without the kielbasa feels wrong. XD

Jensen’s facial expressions say so much all the time and I love it. XD

Oh boy.

NOOOOOO!

WHAT IS IT WITH SUPERNATURAL AND FINGERS ON THIS SHOW JESUS!!

Okay, WHO is the timer for?? Like, is it just some form of slow torture?? Because it’s not like it’s being shown to anyone other than her.

Ooh. I like that he’s listing off all of the different names for God. Good pastor. Please don’t be a bad guy.

HIS FAMOUS “hello” OH MY GOD I LOVE HIM SO MUUUUUUUUCH!!! <3 <3 <3 <3

...oof. Ummm....

Awww.... Poor baby. :( :( :(

AWWW!! Dad Cas to the rescue!! <3 <3 <3

Jack looking at his dad omg. <3 <3

I already like this speech from Cas. I can tell it’s gonna be good.

“I guess I found a family.” <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

JACK’S LITTLE SMILE!!!

“And I became a father.” THERE IT IS!!! THERE. IT. IS!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

THE WAY JACK LOOKS AT HIM AFTER HE SAYS THAT AHHHH!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

AWWWW!!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

GOOD SPEECH CAS!!! GOOD SPEECH!!! WAY TO MAKE YOUR SON FEEL BETTER!!! <3 <3 <3 <3

Awww...I really like this pastor. <3

FRIIIICK.

Oh sh**. There’s the time for everyone else.

JESUS!!!

Yeah okay. This is 100% a human being’s doing. A monster wouldn’t bother.

Jack running over to turn it off right away. Ever the hero. <3 <3

The pastor seemed too surprised to have done it, which, for me, puts pastor in the clear. Thank goodness.

True, but also he sucks, so help us out Amara.

Okay, I’m sorry, but quick side note. Everyone keeps saying he’s “very nearly done”, but when Dean looked in the telescope, he didn’t see anything. I thought that meant he was done. Unless it only reaches so far? I guess it probably only reaches so far in terms of other dimensions.

Sure there is.

“Our pal Jack.” That’s such a weird thing to hear him say, but okay. XD

Also I’m not sure how I feel about them telling Amara about Jack. Like, I like her, and I feel like she’s gonna help, but what if she doesn’t? She could, whether intentionally or unintentionally, wind up seeing Chuck and mentioning Jack to him, and if she does, that ruins the whole plan. But, on the other hand, I guess they have to earn her trust, and keeping details from her would definitely make that harder. But I still don’t like it. It puts my baby in danger. Again. But anyways.

Oh. Just like that?

“I get he’s your brother” Dean says oh so casually, as if he hasn’t literally moved heaven and hell to protect and save his own brother.

“Squirrely weirdo” XD XD

Oh. The Big Bang. New theory. I like it. XD

Sure he can.

Ummm...yeah, Amara. You’re a fool. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. Maybe he cares about you a little, but definitely not as much as you’re giving him credit for. Not right now anyways.

Wait...she actually said no? No way. I thought they were gonna be able to convince her. Guess my initial theory was wrong... What does that mean though? Like...what now?

Jack’s gonna come slamming through that door, according to the promo.

Called it!

Wait...why did Jack slam through it while Cas is just...casually standing there? You’re an angel, Castiel. XD

“Lust” It is based on “Seven”! I love it!

Welp...guess it’s not him.

Wait, so we are walking away with a no? That never happens to us!

THERE we go. Go get her Dean.

Is it just me, or has Sam been, like, really not involved this episode?? Jared’s had, like, six lines. XD

OH! Okay, the “then” makes sense now.

Oof. You tell her, Dean.

That she sucks. That’s what she wanted. Because she does.

Wait NO WAY! That’s what I said! Kind of, anyways.

Woooow. That’s actually pretty messed up, Amara. But it makes sense for why Mary was such a terrible character and why I hated her so much. She is only human. A sucky human, too.

Is it, though?

“That you could finally start to accept your life.” Okay, that’s actually kind of cool, and that’s awesome on the writers’ part for adding in that explanation of why everything went the way it did. Nice.

But also, that’s pretty messed up Amara.

Oooh. We’re about to get some awesome Jensen acting, aren’t we?

Jensen’s trying not to cry face is so incredible wow.

Awww....poor Dean.

Jesus Amara. A little sympathy?

OOF. I love that quiet fury that Dean has.

OOH! He got her!

YES DEAN!!! TELL HER!

“Well now who’s living in a dreamworld?” ...ouch. But true.

...oh boy. That was a bold-faced lie. But so brilliantly told, Dean.

After ALL THAT, you’re going to THINK ABOUT IT? Really??!!

But hey! I KNEW IT!! BEAUTIIFUL acting moment on Jensen’s part!! AWESOME scene. <3 <3 <3 <3

Oh! It’s the girl. I’m calling it.

Yep. Daughter.

I KNEW SHE WAS BEING WEIRD!

See?! Super religious people are crazy!!

Go Cas and Jack go!

Ope. Cas is gonna heal, and Jack is gonna attack. Go boys go!

Cas is gonna heal in front of all those people oof.

Girl has ISSUES.

Wow, this girl is WAAAAY too religious. Chill.

Yeah, cause you need help.

HEY!!! NOT COOL SYLVIA!!!

Oof. Yeah nice try, but that’s not gonna work.

I love how Jack just takes it and then heals all bada** like “yeah sorry but no”, but then he still looks up with the kindest and most innocent expression and I love it. <3

Meanwhile Cas is like “yeah I’m not having any of this.” XD XD

Does...does he always have to say sleep when he does it? Cause he didn’t used to, and for some reason, that was hilarious. XD

Jack’s little nod. So cute. <3 <3

Fixed her fingers, but couldn’t wash the blood off. XD

Yeah ummm...how you gonna explain that one, Cas?

At least pastor dude seems nice. And, like, being the good kind of religious, he’ll probably be totally cool with the angel thing.

Wait, pastor dude is still processing this when morning hits? Okay then.

“Not a very good one.” WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! You are literally the BEST angel, thank you very much.

Man that girl is MESSED UP.

And Jack still feels sorry for her, my baby. :( <3 <3

Ah. Nothing like your daughter becoming a murderer for you to finally step into a proper role of fatherhood.

WAIT A SECOND! IT’S ZACK!!

Dude waaait. What does that mean?? That’s, like, a really random thing. Does that mean she’s gonna come back? Or that Zack is gonna come back? I’m not sure what that means. That seems so random! I DEMAND ANSWERS SUPERNATURAL!

The way Cas looks at Jack after the pastor says that about looking after her better. Cas I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you’re the best father Jack could’ve asked for, okay?

Awww! Cas and Jack talk time!! <3 <3

Cas is trying so hard to help him I love him. <3

NO YOU DON’T STOP!! THIS IS WHAT FAMILY IS FOR!! WHHHHYYY are all you Winchesters like this.

Wait. WAIT! He was hiding something?! I hate it when Sam’s right.

Wait WHAT?!

HOLD ON!!!

NOOOOO NO NO NO NO NO!!! NO! JACK NO!!! That is NOT ALLOWED!!!

HOLD ON A SECOND!!! NO!!! THAT IS NOT WHAT I WAS EXPECTING WTF??!!!

Wait wait wait. A bomb?? Like, just like S11?? Because no. No no no. We’re not doing this again. JACK YOU ARE NOT GONNA DIE WTF??!!

THIS THROWS ALL OF MY THEORIES OUT THE WINDOW NOOOO!!! IT CAN’T BE JACK!!! I REFUSE!!! :’( :’( :’( :’( :’(

WE JUST GOT YOU BACK!!! WE CAN’T LOSE YOU AGAIN!!! :’( :’( :’( :’( :’( :’( :’(

Cas’s face is all of my emotional screeching right now.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN “Don’t tell Sam and Dean.” ARE YOU KIDDING ME JACK??!! THESE ARE YOUR DADS!! THEY NEED TO KNOW!!! YOU CAN’T DO THIS!!! CAS WON’T LET YOU!!!

JACK NOOOO!!! STOP IT WITH ALL OF YOUR GUILT! GOD you’re such a Winchester!! NO!! DEAN BAKED YOU A DANG BIRTHDAY CAKE FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!! YOU DON’T NEED TO DIE FOR HIM TO FORGIVE YOU!!!

I’M HAVING SUCH A HARD TIME TYPING RIGHT NOW WTF IS THIS SCENE??!! :’( :’( :’( :’( :’( :’(

Me too, Cas!!!

SEE JACK??!! YOU CAN’T!!

NO! WHAT IS THAT?!

NO!! STOP IT!!! STOP IT YOU STUPID IDIOT NO!!! YOU CANNOT SACRIFICE YOURSELF LIKE THIS!!! THEY WON’T LET YOU!!!

Cas tell Sam and Dean. Please.

Oh WAIT! We have, like, two minutes left craaap. This is the scene from the promo. Cas is gonna say Sam and Dean need to know something and then it’s gonna end. I’m calling it right now.

YES CAS!! GO CAS GO!! SAVE YOUR SON!!!

Yep. Here it is. It’s gonna cut off.

GODDA**IT!! I HATE IT WHEN I’M RIGHT!!!

WHY YOU GOTTA DO ME LIKE THAT SUPERNATURAL??!! You can’t just...DROP A BOMB like that and then NOT RESOLVE IT GOD DA**IT!! SCREW YOU WRITERS!!!

AHHHHH!!! I NEED NEXT WEEK RIGHT NOW!!! AHHHHH!!! THIS IS SO NOT OKAY!!!!

If I deny it ever happened, then it didn’t happen, right? Jack and Cas solved the case, Sam and Dean got Amara’s help, and they all went home and had family dinner, okay? New ending. There we go. Problem solved. Because NO!

Well...f**k. I guess it’s review time?? But JESUS CHRIST!!! Okay, okay, I need a minute. Please hold.

(Several Hours Later)

Okay. I’m back. Let me start with something kind of amusing. Several minutes after the episode ended, while I was still trying to process everything, this interaction happened:

Me, breathing heavily and dying inside: Mom, you do not seem as distressed about this as I am.

My Mom: I am never as distressed as you are about anything in this show. It’s impossible for me to reach that level of distress. I don’t know how you do it.

So...if you didn’t already realize how emotionally connected to this show I am, now you do. XD

That said, let’s get down to it.

God, there is soooo much to unpack with that episode, and even crazier, it honestly all comes from that last five minutes. Let me start with this:

I really enjoyed this episode! It can’t quite beat last week’s episode--but, honestly, I don’t know if any of the other episodes will be able to, except for maybe the finale--but it was good! I had a few qualms about Matt Cohen’s directing, but he definitely had some strong moments, so it wasn’t bad. And, admittedly, at first, I felt like the pacing of the episode was kind of slow, and switching back and forth between the Winchesters and Cas and Jack felt kind of choppy for a bit, but as the episode played out, I realized why. This was a full-on set-up episode. While last week gave us a chance to be silly with the boys and see some beautiful family bonding, this was the one that set us up for what’s sure to be heavy and plot-filled coming up. (And yes, I know next week’s episode is much more of a monster-of-the-week, but 15x17 is when things will likely really get down to it, so I’m sure there’ll still be some important plot stuff next week--especially since we need a resolution to the Cas and Dean talk). Between the boys having to find and trick Amara, and Cas and Jack bonding and working with each other again, plus that big reveal at the end, it’s setting up the next string of episodes to be fast-paced and intense as they finally start to take on God.

With that said, I really loved being able to see Jack and Cas together again. It’s been so long since we’ve seen them really spend time together and bond, and watching them play off each other and be father and son was adorable and hilarious. Plus, I just love Jack with every fiber of my being, so that makes everything better. XD <3

I also really loved Dean’s interactions with Amara. I mentioned this already, but that scene, where he’s talking about Mary...that was some INCREDIBLE acting on Jensen’s part. He’s always been really good at that subtle rage, especially when it’s also filled with sadness, and this scene was no different. And I’m glad that they did finally get Amara on board; however, I’m a little concerned with what she’s going to do when she finds out he lied. Especially after how worried she seemed to be. AND SPEAKING OF LYING!!

THOSE LAST FIVE MINUTES! HOLY SHIT!!

Okay, so I’ve had some time to think about this and talk it out with some people, so I’m just gonna roll with the thoughts as they go through my brain. First of all, that is a big no a thousand times over. Jack, you cannot die. Second of all, that reveal was very well done on the writer’s part. After such a nonchalant episode--in terms of pace, that is--to have that in the last five minutes, AND to end with that cliffhanger, was a beautiful way to keep us fans guessing, invested, and wanting more. But also, SCREW YOU!

That said, as freaked out as I was--and honestly, I’m still pretty worried--I really don’t think Jack’s going to die. There’s no way. Initially, my theory left Cas and Jack standing at the end of all of this. After CW said that thing about one of the main characters not surviving to the end, I thought it was gonna be Dean, but I can also see how it could be both Sam and Dean. However, in any case, Cas and Jack, in my various theories, always end up on top. So Jack saying he’s going to die in order to kill Chuck and Amara TOTALLY threw me. BUT! After talking it through with someone else, I seriously doubt it’s going to happen.

First of all, Cas is about to go look for another way, and, as we’ve seen in the past, they always find another way. After all, this is the Winchesters (and yes, Cas counts, obviously).

Second of all, they’re telling us this five episodes before the end, but Jack is, supposedly, completing his final ritual in 15x17. That leaves three episodes of unaccounted time, and if Jack is really going to die to kill Chuck and Amara, there’s no way they can stretch that over three episodes. Therefore, his dads are bound to stop it. To FURTHER that, 15x17 has Jack and Dean heading out together to complete Jack’s final ritual while Sam and Cas stay behind, which means that, once Jack does whatever he’s supposed to do, Dean is bound to find out what Billie’s true intentions are, and I’m convinced that he’s not going to be okay with it. Because here’s the thing. Between Sam and Dean, Jack is the one that Dean still needs the most forgiveness from. And, kind of like what happened in Last Holiday, the second Dean realizes Jack is in actual danger, he’s not going to let anything happen to him. And I’m hoping that the resulting protectiveness will give Dean the chance to tell Jack that he does forgive him, which will hopefully release some of Jack’s guilt complex and give them the ability to find another way.

THIRD of all, (and I mentioned this in my reactions), this whole “becoming the bomb to kill the cosmic entities” is an exact mirror of what Dean tried to do in S11, and we saw how that went. But the thing is, why would the writers play the exact same storyline again unless they were intending to parallel it and connect it to Jack and Dean’s relationship now? When Dean didn’t detonate in S11, he got his mom back, but then Jack killed her. Now, Jack is ready to detonate himself as a bomb because of having killed Mary, and Dean’s bound to stop him, especially after that conversation with Amara. Maybe this is all wishful thinking, but I really, sincerely feel like (and hope) that Jack isn’t going to make that sacrifice. Because, on top of all of that, while I love the family that is Team Free Will 2.0, this show still is, as it always has been, about Sam and Dean, and, as such, it should end with them too. So the odds of Jack being the “be all end all” without Sam and Dean’s help? Super slim.

So, to sum that up, as worried as I am about my baby, I really really really think (and god I hope I’m right) that that’s not the way this story will end. There has to be more to it.

With all of that addressed, let’s talk about WHATEVER it is that Cas is about to tell Dean. For me, there are two things it could be:

First, there’s the obvious answer based on the episode itself. Cas is about to tell Dean that Jack has to die in order to kill Chuck and Amara. However, I don’t think that’s it, because that seems too easy and unrealistic. If Cas tells Dean that now, then why would Dean take him to do his final ritual in 15x17 (I guess this is what happens when you read too much promotional material lol)? And even if he does, the next episode seems to be very Sam and Dean centric, and Cas dropping a bomb like that would not allow for a Sam and Dean centric episode, at least not when it’s putting their whole big mission in a different light. Plus, on top of all of that, that Cas and Jack conversation is an exact parallel of the conversation the two of them had about Cas making his deal with the Empty back in Season 14. Cas told Jack not to tell Sam and Dean, and Jack never did, even though his life is at risk. So Cas telling Sam and Dean about Jack now, knowing that Jack kept that secret for him, might break a certain level of trust between the two of them, and I don’t think Cas would do that. Which brings me to my second and, in my opinion, more likely theory.

Cas is about to tell Dean about his deal with the Empty. While this would also be a huge bomb to drop in the middle of this big fight, and in the middle of all this chaos, it technically doesn’t directly correlate with their fight with Chuck. However, if something does happen to Cas, that’s something that Sam and Dean do need to know, because it’ll affect how they handle things and what they do, in a lot of ways. At the same time, I feel like, if Cas is gonna do a whole “go it alone” thing, it’s important that he tells them before he leaves, because there’s no telling what could happen, to any of them, when they’re not all together, and being as open as possible before separating like that tends to be a good idea. It seems like Cas might finally be learning.

That said, I could be wrong all around. It could be neither of those things. It could be both of those things. Honestly, there’s no way to know for sure until we get to next week. However, after a crazy ending like that, I am definitely looking forward to seeing what Supernatural has in store for us next.

My Rating: 8/10

#my review #my reactions #spn #season 15 #spn season 15 #spn spoilers #15x15 #gimme shelter #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #cas and jack #sam and dean #spn 15x15 #spn reactions #ratings #personal

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apptg554 · 3 years

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Friends First Approach To Dating

Is Bumble For Friends Or Dating

Dating is fun and all, but group dates are in again these days, too, especially with all the group dating apps out there. Not only do group dates take away from the pressure of one-on-one dates, but they’re also fun. Several brains are better than one, right? You may think you know all the local hot spots, but once you start a group chat in an app, you’ll soon realize the possibilities are endless. Plus, plenty can be social and not date-y, if that’s more your thing.

And, no two social/group dating apps are quite the same. After all, in general, there seem to be dating apps catered to everyone — adventure-seekers and travelers (like MeetMeOutside), ones where heterosexual women need to make the first move (like Bumble), and even ones for beard-lovers (like Bristlr), to name a few — and such is the case when it comes to group social outings, too.

Some only give you a limited amount of time, like 24 hours, to make plans while others coordinate the date for you — all you need to do is show up. Simple enough, huh? And others even include your first round of drinks. Sign. Me. Up.

Here are some social/group dating apps you need to try — so you can no longer make excuses that there’s no one around to go out with.

Check out Bustle's 'Save The Date' and other videos on Facebook and the Bustle app across Apple TV, Roku, and Amazon Fire TV.

1. Tinder Social

Now, you can go on group dates and outings via Tinder Social. Looking for a fun night out? Just create a group (which looks a lot like a group text) and an activity to do, like hitting up that new bar in Midtown. Even though you can only be in one group at a time, it’s NBD — your group expires at noon the next day anyway.

It’s perfect for making last-minute plans tonight. Plus, you can go back and forth in your settings between being on Tinder solely to date, one-on-one, and Tinder Social. Or, if you’re like me and are already coupled up, you and your bae can go on Tinder just for the social aspect.

2. Squad

With Squad, you pick up to five Facebook friends to be part of your “squad,” which you can switch up anytime. Plus, you can also have multiple squads. You create a group name and tagline, the latter meaning your goal — going to such-and-such bar tonight or a Mets game this weekend. Then, check out other squads and let the swiping left or right begin. Once you match with another squad, you have 24 hours to message and make plans. Oh, and instead of a bio, you describe yourself via three emojis (and you can still write a bio if you so choose) — which is awesome and so 2016.

3. Grouper

With Grouper, you anonymously pick out friends-of-friends to meet IRL. If you mutually match, the app plans a “Grouper” for you — drinks between their friends and your friends. Plus, there is no messaging when you use Grouper. None! The app does all the work for you: time, place, and coordinating with everyone involved. The best part? It’s about friends meeting up with friends. “Dating” does not even have to be part of it, though if you do find you have a love connection with a friend-of-a-friend, it’s pretty great (like having a letter of recommendation, of sorts).

4. CLIQ

Let’s say you and a couple friends want to meet some new people IRL. Just log onto CLIQ and then you can match with another group of friends. First, you’ll choose some topics you’re interested in. Then, the app will take it from there and send you “Goodies” based on your interests and suggest places for you to check out. Via “Huddle,” you can also chat with members of your CLIQ privately. With the app, CLIQs can also choose not to be private and post status updates, pics, videos, and location posts, so followers can see what you have going on and where.

5. Entourage

First, choose one or two friends and start a group with them. Then, the app suggests nearby groups to you and you can “like” or “pass.” When you and another group match, you can start up a group chat. Then, let the planning-to-meet-IRL begin. The only downside? Currently, Entourage is only available in New York City, Los Angeles, Chicago, and San Francisco, but let’s be optimistic that it’ll expand to more cities soon enough.

6. Cheers

Cheers, formerly known as Who’s That, is a social app that connects you to people at over 30 Boston-area bars. The company recently rebranded and also formed a partnership with Absolut Elyx, Absolut’s new luxury vodka — and continues to have a partnership with Fireball Whiskey, as well. With the app, you create a group with friends and swipe through other groups going out in your city. When you see people you want to get drinks with, tap “Cheers.” Like other swiping apps, you get a match when there’s mutual interest. Then, “Pick a Place” in the conversation to meet for drinks. Your concierge will make a reservation and you’ll get the first round of drinks free. Yep, free. So easy. (Though I hope it expands to other cities, too.)

Images: Fotolia, Tinder, Squad, Grouper, CLIQ, Entourage, Cheers

Whether you’re looking for true love or a quick hookup, dating apps have become the go-to for finding what you’re craving. But what about friends? After using Tinder and OKCupid for dating, I was actually more interested in finding new pals and I figured I could keep using the same tools but with a different purpose.

I’m open to love but not looking for it. I’m taking a very chill approach to new relationships these days, preferring to let the right connection come to me rather than chasing it. That said, I’ve always found dating apps really interesting and I love dating, so even though I’m not looking for romance, I still enjoy that aspect of it. Why not keep the parts of dating I enjoy and use the same approach to simply find cool people to hang with?

I’m upfront about it. I state in my profile that I’m looking for friendship so it’s clear to anyone perusing my stats what I’m open to. I also make sure to talk about it explicitly before I meet anyone in person. A dating site isn’t the typical place for people to find platonic connections, so I make sure I’m upfront about it. I have no interest in leading people on.

Friendship is more important to me than partnership. Don’t get me wrong, I love being in a relationship, but the older I get, the more I realize that a solid network of good friends is much more important. I want to have a community of amazing people around me more than I want to find “The One.” I’ve spent way too much time giving up my friendships for the sake of whichever relationship I was in at the time. Now it’s time to start putting friendship first.

An online connection doesn’t mean a real-life romance. Even if I meet someone online who I think could be an incredible partner, you never know until you’ve actually met them. I’ve met a few guys who, on paper and from our messages, seemed like real keepers, only to find there was no chemistry in real life. In those situations, I was open to keeping them as friends rather than scrapping all that potential because the spark of romance wasn’t there.

Friends First Approach To Dating

Not everyone has the same idea. Unfortunately, some people aren’t into it. Some of those dudes just dropped off the face of the earth when they realized I wasn’t interested romantically. I get it, they were looking for something specific and I just wasn’t on board. To me though, it just seems like a shame to shut off the possibility of platonic connection just because I wasn’t DTF.

It’s hit and miss. Just like searching for real-life romance through a screen doesn’t guarantee a connection, neither does looking for friends. I love dating because it’s an opportunity to meet an entirely new human being and friendship dating is no different. That said, some people just do not fit together and there’s a lot of time spent awkwardly sipping coffee over a forced conversation, calculating how many minutes until I can politely exit the interaction.

I’ve had some weird dates come out of it. Even if I say on my profile that I’m looking for friends, and even if that’s explicitly stated before we meet, there are still some people who equate dating apps with, well, dating. On the one hand, that’s totally fair enough. On the other hand, we’re all adults here and we (hopefully) all understand the concept of consent. When one of us is looking for friendship and the other is only interested in hooking up, nobody wins.

If we can use apps for romance, why not for friendship? We’re living in a world that is steadily becoming more and more digitized and if we can use technology to find our soulmates, why can’t we do the same to find friends? There’s an app for that, right? The social stigma around online dating has pretty much disappeared, but when I tell people I find friends online, I still get some funny looks.

Is Bumble For Friends Or Dating

The tech world is catching on. For a hot minute, Tinder launched a version of the app created for exactly this purpose. Unfortunately, the idea tanked, probably because as a hook-up app, it’s not particularly geared towards meaningful connections. Nevertheless, there are a bunch of other apps that are designed for exactly that market if, like me, you’re not opposed to finding cool people through the power of the internet.

“Sponsored: The best dating/relationships advice on the web. Check out Relationship Hero a site where highly trained relationship coaches get you, get your situation, and help you accomplish what you want. They help you through complicated and difficult love situations like deciphering mixed signals, getting over a breakup, or anything else you’re worried about. You immediately connect with an awesome gecoach o”n text or over the phone in minutes. Just click here…

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savannahadelinemaddock · 4 years

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JOB2005

Andy receives a piece of news from Duffy in regards to the case involving his son. He gets a little heated and unfortunately it does not go well in the beginning.

Things do work themselves out though.

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

Savannah was startled when she heard Andy slam the backdoor as he came into the house. Quickly getting up from where she sat in their home office, she found him looking around.

“Andy, what are you..”

“Where’s Jake?”

“He’s in his room. What’s wrong?” She had barely gotten her question out when he had headed up the stairs. “Andy, what’s wrong?!”

She was too late though as Andy had already barged into Jake’s room.

“Did you write a story about being Ben’s killer?” He asked looking at their son.

“Dad…”

“Did you do it, Jake?” Andy asked again. Savannah stood in the doorway watching the two of them react to one another. Even she knew trying to stop Andy in this moment wouldn’t matter.

“Andy, can you please explain what you’re talking about so I can mediate?” She asked, finally moving into the room.

“Our son may have written a fictional story on some cutter fiction website about being Ben’s killer!” Andy answered, not daring to look away from Jake. “Did you do it?”

“No!” Jake answered looking at him. “I swear I didn’t! I mean yeah I wished the guy would leave me alone but I would never!”

Savannah could see the honest fear on Jake’s face as his father’s sudden outburst. This was why Jake had never been in a courtroom while they’d been working a trial. They didn’t have angry outbursts in the house for a reason.

“Andy, how do they know it was Jake?” She asked, looking at him.

“Username was JOB2005.” He answered by turning to look at her.

“Did the ISP for the story lead back to our house? To any of our computers?” She continued with her questions, looking at him. She was the defense lawyer busily working to talk her fuming husband down.

“Duffy said they’re running it right now.”

“Then lay off our child until you have answers. Jake didn’t write it. He just told you he didn’t write it. You do not get to be angry with him for writing it when there is no proof other than the username to tell you it was him.” She could see Andy’s shoulders relax as she spoke. “Now, apologize to our son.”

Jake looked at her, knowing that this was stressful for both of them as much as it was for him. But he had never seen his father blow up like this.

“I’m sorry, buddy.” Andy sighed, moving to sit next to him on the bed. “I shouldn’t have… I know you’ve told us everything and I shouldn’t have burst in here like that.”

Jake kept a small distance between them, still slightly scared of his father.

“I just want to be able to protect you, Jake. Ever since you were a baby, that’s all I’ve wanted. I see daily what the world can spit out in people. I know because of my dad. And you know that. I am sorry, bud. I really am.” He was staring at the floor, trying to control himself. “I just.. Duffy said the username and I couldn’t…”

“I didn’t write it. I promise. Even if I did, you and mom taught me well enough. Vent it to a sheet of paper in handwriting then burn it.” Jake answered looking at him. “I promise I didn’t write it. I wouldn’t even know what website that is.”

It was later that evening when they were starting to fix dinner that Duffy showed up, knocking on the backdoor. Savannah was busily showing Jake how to do something when Andy let her in.

“What’s the news?”

“The internet connection was here. But his laptop nor phone matched where it was posted from according to the website’s log history.” Duffy smiled, coming in. “And Savannah invited me to stay for dinner so I’m taking her up on it.”

“You’re always welcome here, Duf.” She answered over her shoulder as she turned back to help Jake.

Andy nodded, still not okay after the earlier outburst with Jake. He hadn’t exactly wanted to be close to him.

“What’s wrong, Andy?” Duffy asked, looking at him. “I figure you would be happy about that answer.”

“I had an outburst with Jake when I got home from you telling me after we searched the phone.” Andy sighed, shaking his head. “Jake’s not… He’s keeping his distance right now. This just makes me look more like the asshole.”

“He knows you love him, Andy. It’s just rough when you can’t take care of him and be the lawyer.” Duffy offered another smile as she gently squeezed Andy’s shoulder. “He’ll come around.”

“Hey Duffy!” Jake called, moving over to hug her. “Mom’s making her dad’s chicken piccata.”

“Oh god… You’re set on fattening anyone in this house up as much as you can, aren’t you, Sav?” Duffy asked, hugging Jake.

“Nah, just…. It’s either that or we order takeout and one of us has to go pick it up. I’d rather not be looked at like a sideshow freak.” She answered, looking over her shoulder at Duffy. “I’m glad you’re staying for dinner, by the way. With everyone…”

“Of course!” Duffy went over, spying the wine glass that was sitting next to Savannah. “You okay?” She asked quietly.

“Well enough. I thought for a second Andy was going to throttle Jake earlier.” She answered with a shrug.

“You defense lawyered him, didn’t you?” Duffy knew she was good at it. She’d been crossed by her too many times.

“Yep. And of course you come in with the truth that it didn’t come from one of our computers.” Savannah answered as she finished with what she was working on - the chicken - and moved to put it in the oven. “I knew it wasn’t. I know my son well enough.”

“You’ve taught him well enough.” Duffy smiled, shaking her head as she looked over to where Jake was playing with Theo in the living room. “He’s doing okay, right?”

“As well as can be expected. We’ve been seeing a family therapist once a week and he sees someone on his own as well.” She answered, taking a breath. “But today… Andy’s just not been okay since Joanna decided for us to see the genetic therapist. He had to go see his sperm donor.”

“God, that must have been rough.”

“I haven’t seen Andy feel so defeated since he lost his first case that first year we moved here.” Savannah knew it sucked for him. She had wanted to go do it herself but he’d put his foot down. “They’ll fix it. Give them a few hours and they’ll be fine.”

What Savannah wasn’t expecting is that it wasn’t going to be fine in a few hours. Jake had gone to bed without a word to them. She’d only discovered it after she’d gone up to see if he wanted ice cream. It had truly broken her heart at the thought that he was so upset over the accusation that he’d just chosen to go to bed. But she knew he needed his space from them - even if she hadn’t accused him of it. It was when she and Andy were getting ready for bed that they heard the knock on their door, making her curious as Andy opened the bedroom door to reveal a tear stain faced Jake.

“Baby boy, what’s wrong?” She asked looking over at him. Slowly she made her way over, wrapping him in her arms as he continued to sob. “Was it a bad dream?”

They both saw the soft nod as he clutched to her. Savannah slowly led him to the bed, pulling back the covers for him to crawl in.

“You can sleep with us tonight.” She said looking over at Andy. He nodded as Jake crawled into the bed. Theo came too of course, snuggling at the foot of the bed at Jake’s feet as Savannah finished her routine for the night.

Andy was hesitant as she disappeared into their bathroom, the sound of the water running as she brushed her teeth filling the room. He sat down on his side, checking his phone one more time before turning it on to ‘Do Not Disturb’ and sliding under the covers. Jake was still leaving a tiny bit of room between them as they laid there in bed waiting on Savannah.

“Bud… I hope you know I really am sorry about earlier today.” He looked over at Jake, knowing it must have made him feel like shit. “You’re already worried about things you shouldn’t have to worry about. And my blowing up like that wasn’t what you needed. It also wasn’t very appropriate of me either.”

“I know you’re trying to protect me, Dad…. I just… I haven’t lied to you either of you about this. I wasn’t there when Ben got killed. I gave you my knife because I was scared.” Jake answered curling himself into a ball in the sheets.

“I know, bud. And I can’t take away how I made you feel. But I promise, from here on out, I’ll ask you about it first before I start assuming things… because I really made an ass out of myself earlier today.”

“Yeah, you kind of did.” Jake laughed, looking up at Andy.

Savannah came out to find the both of them smiling as she headed over to her side of the bed. They were at least mending their relationship after Andy’s outburst that morning and she was happy that they had talked. Snuggling up behind Jake, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed the top of his head.

“Time for all good boys to go to sleep.” She whispered, squeezing him lightly before settling into her pillow.

And that was how the four of them spent the rest of the night, sleeping peacefully in their little cocoon where Jake was safe and home where he belonged and not even the world could change that.

#what should have happened | verse four #courtroom | drabble #job2005 #defendingjacob #defendingjacoboc #defending jacob #defending jacob oc

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ashthelightmare · 4 years

Text

A Survivor Is Dead

Jayers Fanfiction

Art - @hugs-and-stabbies

note: idk how to post writing prompts on here, forgive me for the ‘spam’ stabbies, i don’t mean to xD

Jake became use to the game of cat-and-mouse that the Entity trapped him in. No longer did he fear death, no longer did he fear the Entity. Jake’s been trapped for so long he knows the killers thought process, he knew how to beat the killers at their own game. Jake could tell the entity wasn't pleased.

Every trial was like any one he's done before. Trick the killers, help his teammates, survive. All of them were different yet the same, all but one. Herman Carter - or as the survivors call him - the doctor. After all, he was a doctor of the mind. Jake couldn't predict his movements, but he could predict what his motives are. So instead of tricking him, Jake teases him, not screaming while getting shocked by the doctors shockwaves.

Jake was no longer afraid, but having fun, and the Entity didn't like it.

Being in the entity's realm for so long, Jake started fancying someone. a 6'7", mechanic suit wearer, creepy stalker kinda guy. The guy who can lift someone without strain, the kinda guy who could attract anyone he wanted to (and the kinda guy who turns girls on just by stalking them). The infamous, Michael Myers.

Somehow, the stalking serial killer also took a liking to the sabotaging man. It could be because Jake puts up a pretty good fight, but let's be for real here, it's totally because of Myers obsession with Jake’s ass.

One trial definitely changed the game. the entity was tired of Jake’s lack of fear (which also rubbed off basically everyone else in the camp), so it decided a the next best thing to bring fear into the survivors.

It was like any other trial for Jake. the game with the Doctor. What a treat. Jake thought with a role of his eyes as he realized where he was, and who he was up against. Letting out a breath of air, Jake walked with his toolbox to the closest meat hook, which so happened to be to the left of him. Opening his box, he grabbed the tools he needed and got to work dismantling the hook.

halfway done, Jake's feet started to feel like pins were poking him. Groaning, Jake packed his tools, and ran. Giggling was heard behind him as the Doctor appeared from around the corner just in time to see Jake vault an open window. The Doctor was most definitely pleased. It was one of the killers favorite toys.

Yes, the doctor knew about Jake and Myers, and seeing as the Doctor could use Jake to get a reaction out of Myers, Herman started the chase.

Around the map Jake lead the Doctor, and as Nea tried to get Herman on her, it frustrated Jake greatly. He knew what the Doctor was up to, but there wasn't much to prevent it. When the Doctor wants something, he almost always gets it.

Jake saw his first pallet to use, but Herman being the sociopath he is, changed his predictions. Tracking Jakes movements, the Doctor send out a shockwave to Jake and successfully hit him. While Jake was stunned (but didn't scream), the Doctor took his swing through the pallet. Blood started to pour out of the wound. The hit caused Jake to scream in agony, which satisfied the mind doctor.

But it didn't stop there. Herman kept his eyes on Jake and didn't let up.

Jake tried to trick the Doctor into thinking he was gonna run around the corner to his left, into a small room with two exits, going two different ways. It obviously didn't work as the Doctor mind gamed Jake. Smacking Jake into dying stage, the Doctor took no time in picking Jake up and putting him on the meat hook. Screaming, Jake looked around to see if his friends were nearby. No. No they weren't. Rolling his eyes, Jake just hung from the already infected meat hook. Ugh, I'll have Claudette clean my wound. Jake thought as he scanned the area. Nothing but 4 walls and debris. Yep, your usual map.

Not long after she was sure the killer was gone, Meg had come around and lifted Jake off the hook. “Wow Jake, it intrigues me to see you, of all people, first on hook,” Meg snickers.

“Shut up and heal me,” Jake grumbles. Snickering harder, Meg treated Jake’s wounds to the best of her ability. “Have Claud look at this.”

“No shit.”

But before either could notice the shocks at their feet, the Doctor sends a shock wave to stop the duo from healing.

Meg stopped her healing and screamed while Jake just twitches. “Time to go!” Jake yells and he books it the opposite direction of the Doctor and Meg.

Jake prayed Herman started to chase Meg, but when is there such thing as luck with Jake? Never. Jake peeked behind him to see the one and only mental doctor. “Fuck off!” Jake threw the insult at the killer, but Herman didn’t mind, he just giggled at Jakes clear frustration.

Jake could see Meg try and get the Doctors attention, but he wasn’t letting up. Running to a pallet, he was about the throw it down (as the Doctor got close as the chase pursued), but before he could grab the wood pallet, Jake screams as he puts his hands on his head, hoping to soothe the pain. However, the Doctor took the chance to hit Jake back into the dying state. Instead of screaming, Jake let’s out a frustrated “fuck!”

Giggling and whipping the blood off his weapon, the Doctor rubbed his hands together to create a huge shock wave and bent down to Jakes head. “NO!” Jake screams as the Doctor sent election through Jakes head, completely frying the brain, killing him.

However, Jakes body didn’t disappear to indicate he was back at the camp fire. The Doctor got confused until there was blood coming from Jakes ears and eyes. If the Doctor could widen his eyes even more than they were already forced to, you would be able to see the genuine shock.

The Doctor killed a survivor. Not sacrificing the survivor, but actually killing. As in, the soul leaves the body and isn’t able to come back, killing.

How the fuck was he going to tell Michael?!

Picking the body up, Herman could feel how limp jakes body is. Oh shit. Did the Entity mean to do this? Did I accidentally really kill a survivor? An I going to get punished. The Doctor talked to himself as he walked to the exit, planning to go to the killer camp fire and survivor camp fire, not caring about the trial going on. There was one thing the Doctor was genuinely scared of, and it is the Entity.

Michael was just listening to Freddy and one of the Legion kids argue about something, like always, when he saw the doctor walking towards the killer group with something is both his arms, like he was carrying something.

Upon further inspection, Michael trips on his sitting log before even standing and full sprints at the maniac doctor. Now Michael wasn’t a guy for words but he was pissed.

Standing there, was the mind doctor, Herman Carter, holding a real, dead, body, who belonged to Michael. “What. Happened.” Michael said sternly, glaring at the doctor through his white mask.

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crashdevlin · 6 years

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Bottle- 15: Sausage With Peppers

Bottle Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version), I work in info from the comics (Like Hawkeye was married to Mockingbird and Red Skull had a disappointing daughter) and I took a few liberties with what the scepter could do (but not really because the Mind Stone was used to create the Twins so what I did is not that far-fetched). This is a lot more angst than I realized when I wrote it, but it’s compelling angst.

Summary: Cassandra Campbell is a Stark Industries lab tech with dubious genetics and a history with the new Director of SHIELD. She’s been working in New York since right before the Chitauri invasion. What does she have to do with Loki, and what will happen when he returns? Starts post TDW and continues to the end of AoU.

Pairing(s): Phil Coulson x OFC (Past), Loki x OFC (Non-con), Clint Barton x OFC, Steve Rogers x OFC

Word Count: 3539

Story Warnings: So many, worst (to me) are bolded. Younger woman/older man relationship,non-con, mutilation, torture, mind control, PTSD, depression, alcoholism, forced abortions, bad things (non-con) in a church, insomnia, memory manipulation, eventual consensual oral sex (female and male receiving),

Chapter Warnings: none

Cassie pulled the van into the parking lot of the Walmart and started at the building for a minute. "How is your first Avengers mission treating you, Joanna?" Loki's voice came from the passenger seat.

"You're not really there," she whispered, closing her eyes. She couldn't look at him, even a projection of him. After what she saw in Africa, she couldn't deal with that.

"True, but I am truly speaking to you. So easy to find when you open up your mind to me."

"I didn't do that. The witch did."

"Witch? I'll have to thank her, you've been practically begging to see me for hours."

Cassie shook her head. "No. This is not... I didn't call to you."

Loki laughed, a cruel sound that gripped her spine. "Joanna... it's perfectly understandable to miss me. With me, there is no doubt, just complete domination. You don't have to worry about who knows you're laying with whom. You don't have to worry about Stark's metal contraptions killing you. You just have to worry about me. And I was gentle last time."

"In Austria? Disguised as the priest who kept me from killing myself?"

"I wanted to see the fire in you! That place dulled you."

"That was the point! I didn't want to think, I didn't want to shine, I didn't want to blaze. I just wanted to be left alone to be. Just be. Exist without anyone paying any attention to me and somehow you and Clint both found me."

"You were suffocating in Austria. You were suffocating as Cassandra. You are still barely pulling air into your lungs. You long for the freedom Joanna thrives upon."

She looked to her right, finally allowing herself to look at him. His eyes looked green in this light. "Look, I'm not going to lie... it'd be useless to try that on you. I had fun with you. You let out a part of me that had been dying to breathe since SHIELD took me, and yes, consensual sex with a God is nothing to shake a stick at, but... I don't miss you. I don't want you. I don't even want to be around you. You killed my daughter."

"And gave you a son." He smiled softly and shook his head at her. "Do you know how I know you do want me around, free to see you as I please? You haven't told Thor what I did to Odin."

As the projection disappeared, Cassie looked at the instrument panel on the dash. Confusion washed over her. She'd found it amusing that the Allfather had been tricked by Loki and that Heimdall, who sees pretty much everything, hadn't seen it. She knew that she'd been too desperate to leave Playground when she woke up, but why hadn't she said anything since she'd been back? She hadn't forgotten: she just hadn't mentioned it. "Just means I'm nuts, not that I want you to drop in unannounced," she muttered, getting out of the van and walking toward the store.

"Talking to yourself already, Campbell? That's a sign of poor fortitude," a familiar voice said as she crossed the double doors.

She turned to the vending area and blanched at the sight of Nick Fury, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt and wearing dark sunglasses, drinking a Coke. "Director Fury."

"You aren't SHIELD and I ain't in charge anymore," he said, stepping toward her.

"I-I know, sir. I, uh, just thought... After the way I spoke to you last time... respect is due."

"You didn't say anything that wasn't true, Cassie. I am old and I have bad depth perception."

She couldn't help the smile that crossed her face at the use of her chosen name. "But you have so many years of spycraft under your belt."

"And you can carry Thor around as dead weight. Girl, you woulda kicked my ass."

Cassie smiled wider. "So, what are you doing here?"

"I figured Barton would bring you to the farmstead. Safe place, off the grid. I showed up right as you were pulling onto the main road, followed you. I came in here to get a drink while you argued with yourself in the van." Cassie looked down. "I know the Maximoff girl got you, made you see things. Loki?"

Tears came to her eyes as she just nodded, dumbly. Fury put his hand on her shoulder and waited for her to look at him. When she did, he smiled. "You're the only one who got hit by that chick and wasn't completely down for the count. Your teammates, who include the strongest woman I've ever met and a Viking God, had to extracted by you."

"Guess I have better fortitude than you think."

"Definitely better than you think. You know... Maria Hill sends me reports."

"About me?"

Fury nodded. "Among other things. She said you're putting a lot of effort in. You spend most of your free time training. Says you're ‘almost obsessional’ about being an asset."

"Just don't wanna get anyone killed because I can't handle myself in a combat situation. Fat lot of good I did against Ultron. Got shot in the back by one of Tony's legionnaires before I could touch him. Feel kinda useless."

"Useless?"

"What do I add? I mean, the Avengers already have a revved-up super soldier and an acrobatic weapons expert. I'm like a shitty knock-off version of both of them. I don't have anything..."

"You know, doubt is a perfectly normal, healthy thing, that you need to get the hell over, right now. This is not the time for it. Even if you were a shitty knock-off, you could put down some robots. You are more in control of yourself than some of the strongest-willed motherfuckers I have ever met, so pull your head up and move past whatever that witch made you see."

Cassie chuckled and turned, grabbing a hand basket as she headed further into store. "Wow."

"What?" Fury asked, keeping pace with her.

"No, it's just... I finally understand why you were in charge for so long."

"Why's that?"

"There is something oddly inspiring about a one-eyed man yelling at you to get your shit together." She stopped in front of the sausages and stared at them. "Guess I couldn't expect more than Johnsonville at a Wal-mart. Beer brats, I guess. And beer." She dropped three packs of sausages into the basket and walked toward the beer aisle. "So, how's Phil doing?"

"Don't think Barton would be very happy about you asking after your ex, do you?"

"You're kidding me." Cassie turned to him. "Hill knows about me and Clint?"

"Did you forget that you're working with spies? That you're sleeping with one? You remember what that entails."

"Oh, come on, Nick. It was totally different with Phil. We weren't trying to keep any secrets. It was the most honest relationship Phil had ever been in. He didn't have to hide anything from me. I mean, he did... some." She shook her head and grabbed a box of Guinness. "Clint and I just want something that's ours, you know? We don't want everyone talking and speculating and... being jealous."

"Jealous? You're talking about Steve?"

"I'm talking about Steve," she confirmed. "And Natalia and Phil. Also, there's a deep-seated fear that Mockingbird is still in love with him and she's gonna destroy me over this."

"Mockingbird? Natalia? You haven't just been studying your Ops manual, have you?"

"I started in on those SHIELD files while I was still in Austria. Everything I could learn would better my chances of evasion. Once I got back, it was more 'learn everything I can so that I can survive longer'." She started toward the bakery and stood in front of the racks. "Commercial American bakery's nuzing like Hohenheims bakery. Oh, vell." She grabbed several bags of rolls and headed for the registers.

"Are you coming back to the farm, Nick?"

"Yeah. I'll be right behind you. When you get inside, have the lovely Mrs. Barton send Stark to the barn."

"Yes, sir."

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

As Cassie walked across the grass toward the house, she smiled at Steve and Tony, who were chopping wood in the front. "Glad you're working up an appetite. I'm making lunch."

"Austrian diner food, right? Barton might've mentioned." Tony brought his ax down on one of the logs.

Cassie nodded and jogged inside, dropping the plastic bags on the counter. Clint was beside her almost immediately, he was freshly showered, smelled like a forest. "Hey, you made it back!"

"Today, even. Wanna help me cook?"

"Uncle Clint."

"Yeah, Li?" The little girl waited, a bit impatiently, for Clint to stop looking at Cassie. As soon as his eyes fell on the girl, she started to sign. Cassie watched it in her peripheral vision as she pulled a knife from a knife block and ran soap and water over it. "Yep... I think so... " Clint signed as he spoke his responses to her slightly fumbled sign language. The girl seemed frustrated with a word and resorted to signing each letter.

"Wait, who's Mary?" Cassie asked, slicing through the white onion she picked.

Clint turned to her with an eyebrow raised. "You know Sign?"

"Just the alphabet. There was an accident on 107, so traffic slowed enough for me to pull it up on my phone."

"And you learned ASL alpha in the few minutes you were stuck in traffic?"

"Like it's hard?"

"And now you're quoting Legally Blond at me?"

Cassie grabbed a red pepper and a green one from the fridge. "Never seen it."

He chuckled and turned to the girl. "Lila, we'll continue this conversation later, when there's no one around to eavesdrop."

"I weren't dropping no eaves, Mr. Barton, sir. I was just making lunch," she said, in her best Samwise Gamgee impression. Lila nodded and ran out of the room as Cassie started slicing the peppers. "It's a little early in the relationship for your family to be pushing us down the aisle, don't'cha think?" she asked, quietly.

"Eh, she wants a cousin. Thought you didn't Sign?"

"I caught the double Rs in 'marry', and she pointed at us. Not hard to follow."

"She likes you." Clint grabbed a slice of bell pepper from the cutting board and bit it in half. "And she knows I do, too. She just wants me to be happy, that's all."

"Uh-huh. Hey, Laura," Cassie called out. The brunette woman waddled in, hand secured over her belly. "Nick Fury is in your barn. He requests an audience with Mr. Stark, but Tony isn't one to just do what someone asks. Can you figure out a way to get Tony into the barn, please?"

"Yeah, I think I can do that," she said with a smile.

"Grab the sausages out of the bag for me and grab a pan, cast-iron if you have it, and a broiler pan."

"Broiler pan?"

"Every oven comes with one, Clint. Usually it's a two piece thing, slots in the top to catch drippings in the bottom."

"Oh, that thing. Gotcha," Clint said, digging into a low cabinet by the fridge to pull out a large roasting pan. He put it on the stove before pulling out a cast-iron skillet and handing it to her.

"Nice. Okay. Oil?"

"In the glass squeezy thing, there," Count said, pointing to the counter.

"So articulate, Hawk."

"What can I say?” He shrugged. “Obviously not much."

"Then, why do you talk so much?" Cassie said, clicking the burner on under the skillet.

"Hoping to say something to turn you red again. It's a good look."

"Ja, mein Vater seemed to think so."

"Ich finde dich süß when you mix up your languages. [I think you’re cute when you mix up your languages]” Cassie felt her cheeks heat up. "There's her color," he whispered, leaning into her.

Her eyes flicked towards the living room. "Back off, Hawk. This isn't the time," she said, pouring oil into the skillet. Clint leaned away again, but she could feel his eyes on her. "Put the sausages on the broiler pan. Single layer, like you know what you're doing," she said, grabbing the peppers and onions putting them into the skillet.

Cassie had the oven open, flipping the sausages over when Tony stomped into the house, Steve and Nick following behind. "Are you going to be eating with us, Nick? We've got plenty."

"I've heard good things about your cookin', Miss Campbell. It was one of the things Coulson felt comfortable braggin' on you about."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," she said, smiling as she closed the oven door.

"So... what's the thinking, Fury?" Banner asked as Lila ran into the dining room to hand Natasha a watercolor picture.

"Ultron took you folks out of play to buy himself time. My contacts all say he's building something. The amount of Vibranium he made off with, I don't think it's just one thing," Nick said, walking around to the sink to pour himself a glass of water.

"What about Ultron himself?" Steve asked, leaning against the wall.

"Ah. He's easy to track, he's everywhere. Guy's multiplying faster than a Catholic rabbit. Still doesn't help us get an angle on any of his plans, though."

"He still going after launch codes?" Tony asked, throwing darts at a board on the wall.

"Yes, he is, but he's not making any headway," Nick answered.

"I cracked the Pentagon's firewall in high school on a dare."

"Yeah, well, I contacted our friends at the NEXUS about that," Nick said, starting to cut the rolls Cassie bought for the sandwiches.

"NEXUS?" Steve and Cassie asked.

"It's the world internet hub in Oslo. Every byte of data flows through there, fastest access on Earth," Banner responded.

"So, what'd they say?" Clint asked, examining the fletching of one the darts.

"He's fixated on the missiles, but the codes are constantly being changed."

"By whom?" Tony asked, as Clint threw his darts at the board. Tony looked at him, exasperated as Clint just shrugged, before pulling all three darts from the bulls-eye.

"Parties unknown."

"Do we have an ally?" Natasha asked.

"Ultron's got an enemy, that's not the same thing. Still, I'd pay folding money to know who it is."

"I might need to visit Oslo, find our 'unknown'," Tony said.

"Well, this is good times, boss, but I was kind of hoping when I saw you, you'd have more than that," Natasha grumbled as Nick finished cutting the bread.

"I do. I have you. Back in the day, I had eyes everywhere, ears everywhere else. You kids had all the tech you could dream up. Here we all are, back on Earth, with nothing but our wit, and our will to save the world. Ultron says the Avengers are the only thing between him and his mission and whether or not he admits it, his mission is global destruction. All this, laid in a grave. So stand. Outwit the platinum bastard," Nick said, sitting down with his water as Cassie pulled the sausages out.

"Steve doesn't like that kind of talk," Natasha teased.

"You know what, Romanoff?" Steve started, faux threateningly. Natasha just smirked.

"So, what does he want?" Nick asked.

Steve looked around as Clint came to sit at the table. "To become better. Better than us. He keeps building bodies."

"Person bodies," Tony responded. "The human form is inefficient, biologically speaking, we're outmoded. But he keeps coming back to it."

Banner walked forward and examined Lila's picture. Natasha looked between the scientists. "When you two programed him to protect the human race, you amazingly failed."

"They don't need to be protected, they need to evolve. Ultron's going to evolve."

"How?" Nick asked as he took a drink of his water.

"Has anyone been in contact with Helen Cho?"

Cassie placed a platter full of sausage and pepper sandwiches on the table and sat next to Natasha. "So, what? Ultron is going to have Helen Cho make him a... a better body?" Everyone looked around at each other, nervously. "Guess we should eat." She reached forward and grabbed a sandwich, but she suddenly didn't feel very hungry.

Clint stood, grabbing a bottle of Guinness and handing it to her. "Anyone else? Might not have another chance."

"Don't talk like that," Natasha said, but she put her hand out for a beer.

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

Steve walked into the living room as he finished suiting up. "I'll take Natasha and Clint."

"All right. Strictly recon. I'll hit the NEXUS. I'll join you as soon as I can," Tony said, tapping at his wrist.

"If Ultron is really building a body..." Steve started.

"He'll be more powerful than any of us. Maybe all of us. An android designed by a robot."

"You know, I really miss the days when the weirdest thing science ever created was me," Steve mused.

"I'll drop Banner off at the Tower. Do you mind if I borrow Ms. Hill?" Fury asked.

"She's all yours, apparently. What are you gonna do?"

"I don't know. Something dramatic, I hope," Nick said, walking out of the house.

"What about me?" Cassie asked, walking up to Steve and Tony.

"Cass..." Steve started.

"No. Don't even think about leaving me behind. I may be pretty new to this whole 'superhero' thing and I didn't help much against Ultron in New York, but I've got more will, more fortitude than any of you. I pulled myself out of that fugue state..." *Or was the vision simply over* She shook away Loki's voice in her head and kept going. "...and I didn't sulk around about what I saw in that vision. I pulled myself together and then I carried your star-spangled ass off that ship. And then, I went back for Thor and carried his ass out. An action, by the way, that outed me as a superhero to the international news media."

She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Which is great, because Hydra is still looking for their lost legacy and Loki is still looking for his queen, so it's awesome to broadcast my whereabouts. And even with all that, with my worst fears playing in my head on repeat since that witch touched me, I still want to help, because that's what I signed up for. As soon as I decided 'Avenger' would look good on my resume, I signed up to put away my shit and focus on everyone else's. So, tell me, boss, where do you need me?"

Steve looked around, then cleared his throat. "Stark?"

"Ever been to Norway, blondie?" Stark asked.

"No, sir," she answered, standing straight.

"It's good. You'll love it. Might need some muscle, anyway. Can't wear the suit everywhere. Go grab yours," Tony ordered.

Cassie nodded and rushed for the room where she'd changed before heading to the store. Clint followed, closing the door behind him as she pulled her super suit off the floor. "Not the way I pictured the first time you grabbed your clothes off of my floor," he joked.

She turned to him and smiled, slightly. "Be careful. Please. Be careful."

"It's a milk run, babe." Clint stepped forward and pushed her hair out of her face.

"No. My trip to the NEXUS is a milk run. Tony's only taking me because I threw a fit. Ultron might be in Seoul. I mean, he's everywhere. So, he's probably gonna be there... with the Maximoffs. Clint... Wanda, she's..."

"I know, Cassie."

"You don't. I saw-"

"Loki. I know. And you liked it, right? That's why you're all messed up." Cassie blinked back tears. "You remember when we first met? Took you for a drink to celebrate and mourn? I know what you're missing."

"It's not missing the mindlessness, Clint. I mean, that's part of it, but... Joanna, I wanted to... to be with him. I had sex with him. I enjoyed it, being with him."

"That's your greatest fear? That you might've enjoyed sleeping with a demigod?" Clint chuckled. "He's a thousand years old and strong enough to give it to you good. I might've even liked screwing him," he joked.

"Clint... why are you so understanding?" she whispered.

"I've had a long life. Done a lot of bad, had a lot of bad done to me. I focus on intentions, mostly. And your intentions are good, even when you're Joanna. Your intentions as Cassie are... good, right?"

"You're amazing."

"Nah. I've just gotten good at hiding the un-mazing parts of me." Clint brushed his lips against hers. "I'll be safe if you will."

"I promise," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him into a deeper kiss. Her super suit rubbed against his cheek as their tongues pushed against each other.

"Where's my lab tech?!" Tony called up the stairs.

Cassie pulled away, balling her clothes up in her hands. "Hold your water, Stark, I'm comin'." She opened the door and bounded down the stairs, three at a time.

"You had plenty of time for that while the rest of us were showering. You chose to shop," Tony said.

"Shut up," she groaned. *Everybody knows.*

"Come on," Tony said, walking out of the house.

KITCHEN SINK TAGS @heyitscam99 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mrs-meghan-winchester @henrymorganme @lonely-skys @allykat2108

#cassie writes stuff #avengers fanfiction #ofc #red queen chronicles #clint/ofc

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ruffsficstuffplace · 6 years

Text

The Viridian Vanguard (Part 25)

<I’m really very sorry we have to part ways like this, Ruby...> Varryn said as they bowed, all of their belongings in a sack on their back, and the Grove’s Tube station behind them.

<It’s alright, Varryn, we all knew it was much more likely to end like this than not,> Ruby said, bowing back.

<I really do wish that I could have lasted longer in the team’s service, Ruby!> Varryn said as they bent back up. <You’ve been an excellent leader, both within and outside of the walls of the Bastion, and a great friend beside; and to say that the credentials and the experience I’ve acquired in my relatively short time with all of you will be invaluable for the rest of my life will be a severe understatement!>

<Aww, thank you, Varryn!> Ruby replied, smiling now. <You’ve been a great team member and a wonderful friend, too. I’m sure we’d have had spent way more time and had a whole lot more stress trying to navigate, hunt, and trap in the wilds if we didn’t have your skills, not to mention your help with all the Big Game, like Grarr VII!>

The colour drained from Varryn’s face, particularly impressive due to the dark colour of their skin.

<Sorry.> Ruby whispered.

Varryn gulped down the lump that had formed in their throat, before awkwardly jerking a paw behind them. <I’m just going to be leaving now, Ruby… need to get settled in my new home, get my affairs here straightened out, before it’s back out to the wilds again!> they said, backpedaling to the Log that was awaiting them.

<Good luck with all that, Varryn!> Ruby cried, waving. <And if you ever need anything from us, don’t hesitate to call!>

<I won’t, thank you, Ruby!> Varryn shouted back, before they swiftly spun around, stuffed their sack of belongings as quickly as they could into the cargo hold, before diving in and strapping the belts in place all by themselves.

The two Tube technicians looked at each other, shrugged, and proceeded to shut the hatch on Varryn, before sending them out of Keeper’s Grove for the last time. Ruby stood where she was for a few moments, before she sighed, turned around, and went back to the house with her head hung.

As she stepped back into the living room, she found everyone still at the “command center,” a table set up with Ruby’s terminal, plus a handful of loaned units. Qrow was the first to look up from his screen, and waved at Ruby. “Welcome back, kiddo, got to say goodbye Varynn like you wanted?”

“Yep! Managed to screw it up, but hey, it’s not like we’ll probably be hearing or seeing from them any time soon!” Ruby said as she plunked herself down on her chair, and reactivated her terminal. “Thanks for the break, everyone, I really appreciate it.”

Penny bid farewell to whoever she was talking to, then smiled at Ruby. “You are welcome, Ruby, and please, think nothing of it! Proper closure is absolutely vital for mental and emotional health.”

Ruby nodded as she returned to her recently moved terminal, and resumed the search for Varryn’s replacement.

“… Thanks to filters, bots, and the Codex, it was easy to screen out almost all of the folks who were completely unqualified, or that we didn’t need as badly as a new wilderness expert, but there were still LOT of folks to screen, references to call up, and a couple of extra background checks to do.”

“I’m surprised that there’s actually so many Fae who want in on the Keeper Team,” Weiss said.

“It’s probably because of all the benefits!” Ruby replied. “The regular pay may be crap, and the job is difficult and dangerous, to say the least, but even if you only lasted a single season with us, that’s the same rep and credentials as you would have had if you spent a year—maybe two—only taking some of the highest risk jobs available in the Valley, nearly non-stop.

“And if you managed to help me put down a Soul Eater? Well, provided you could still fight and venture outside the walls after, the Roost and private contractors will pretty much let you set your own fee, among other things.”

“And if you haven’t had that distinction, and can’t continue working as a Watcher?”

“Then there’s hefty benefits you could live off of if you’re not too extravagant about living expenses, let alone the folks that’d love to employ a former Keeper Team member for the PR points. And if you end up getting killed in action, whoever’s your beneficiaries will be pretty much set for life, and if you don’t have any, you’ll get a fancy, permanent memorial at the Roost—for some, that’s all they really want or need.

“Of course, there are some folks that are just using it as a stepping stone for their careers—‘High Honour Hopefuls,’ we call them. After all, nothing pleases supporters, and looks damn good on a public service record than helping keep Avalon from getting overrun by near-unstoppable monsters!

“Uncle Qrow really doesn’t like it when we get them, though...”

“Fucking hell, Penny, I thought you said you could screen out every single last one of these suck-ups!” Qrow griped as he angrily pressed the “reject” button, so hard his talon scratched the stone of the terminal underneath.

“I only said ‘Most of them,’ and I’m certain that your chronicle data will be concurrent with my own,” Penny replied coolly. “It’s not any fault of mine that some of them are able to avoid detection relying heavily on word and pattern recognition algorithms.”

“Heh, guess they wouldn’t be Honours if they couldn’t, huh?” Nora said playfully.

Qrow side-eyed her, before shaking his head.

“How many of them have you seen so far, Uncle Qrow?” Ruby asked.

“One, and that’s already one too many...” Qrow grumbled, before he sighed then started to shut down his terminal. “You know what? I’ve had enough of screening hopefuls today, I’m clocking out.”

“We have been screening for several hours with just the bare minimum of breaks, it would indeed be wise to end now and resume tomorrow morning, to avoid unnecessary error and impaired judgment due to fatigue,” Penny said.

“Great, now it’s Mender’s orders, too!” Qrow said as he got up and stretched his legs. “Time for dinner—who’s turn was it, again?”

“I think it was Varryn’s, actually!” Ruby said as she and the others began to shut down their terminals, too.

“It was indeed!” Penny said. “So, with him gone, that means it’s Qrow on dinner duty, myself with dishes, and Ruby to attend to Zwei.”

Qrow paused for a moment, before he happy look on his face disappeared. “Ah, shit, you’re right...” he mumbled, before he dejectedly marched into the kitchen, pulling his flask out of his pocket as he did.

“We’ll help,” Ren said, as he and Nora got up, and followed him.

“And just so you know, I am starving after all that work, so it’s gonna be a total crumb-pocalypse tonight!” Nora said, chuckling.

“Please remember to pace yourself so you don’t end up with indigestion!” Penny called after them, waving, before she turned to Ruby. “Would you like some assistance with Zwei, Ruby? I was thinking of contacting some more character references before I stop completely myself, but I am willing to provide an extra hand and/or company, should you need or want it.”

“Nah, I’m good!” Ruby said as she pulled her cloak back on her shoulders and turned the hood up. “Besides, I wouldn’t mind some alone time with Zwei, he’s probably been so bored and lonely all day!” she said before she made for the door.

“If that’s what you wish, Ruby!” Penny said. “Don’t hesitate to call if you change your mind!”

“I won’t!” Ruby said, before she stepped out of the house and shut the door behind her, stood on the edge of the rail and yelled, “Zwei! We’re all done for today! We can go play now!”

She smiled as she leaned on the railing, gazing out at the overgrowth down below, waiting for Zwei to rip a new straight line through them in his rush. “Heh, he’ll probably leap all the way to the balcony and take me back down with him,” she thought, smiling.

The smile disappeared when she five minutes later, she didn’t see, hear, nor smell him. “Zwei!” Ruby called out again. “Zwei! Shift’s over today! Uncle Qrow’s already getting dinner! I’ll make sure you get an extra serving tonight if you get back here within a minute! Counting down: 60… 59… 58...”

She peered out at the swamp, trying to notice anything off, closed her eyes and counted silently, skipped a few as she sniffed and tried to get even the vaguest whiff of Zwei’s powerful, unmistakable smell.

“… 3… 2… 1… 0!” Ruby cried. “Times up, Zwei! Maybe I’ll consider still giving those extra servings to you if you come back right now…!”

The door opened, Penny peered out. “Has Zwei still not returned, Ruby?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s really weird...” Ruby said, still looking out. “He’s never strayed that deep into the swamp without us, hasn’t he?”

“No, based on my own Chronicle, Qrow’s, and the previous chroniclers,” Penny replied.

Ruby turned around, the worry clear on her face. “Do you think he’s okay?”

“Most likely!” Penny said, smiling as she stepped out of the house and towards Ruby. “He’s an incredibly powerful, durable, and intelligent dog! That aside, it’s highly probable that he’s found an incredibly comfortable, secluded spot and fell asleep there, and it just so happens that he can’t hear you.

“Shall we go look for him?” she added, putting a hand on Ruby’s shoulder and gesturing out to the swamp.

“Please,” Ruby said, heading to the boat-elevator.

“I will inform the others that we’ll be searching for Zwei, then will join you post-haste,” Penny said.

Soon, the both of them were wandering deep into the swamps surrounding Keeper’s Grove, beams of light shooting out of Penny’s unblinking eyes; her ears slowly rotating around her head like radar dishes; her mouth open and her hands cupped around it, and her tail in Ruby’s hand and leading up to her mouth as she used her like a megaphone.

“Zwei!” Ruby called out, her voice booming and echoing off the trees as they hopped and walked on the giant roots. “Zwei! Where are you?! I’m really worried, boy!”

After yet another minute of silence, Ruby whined and let go of Penny’s tail. “He’s not answering or anything! Do you think something bad happened? Should we call the others?!”

“It is extremely concerning, but I urge you to please remain calm, Ruby,” Penny said as she put her hands off her mouth, shut off the spotlights in her eyes before she faced Ruby. “I’m going to contact them now, so we can get the equipment and the heads for a proper search.”

It was then that something fell from high up above, and noisily plopped into the water, followed by some leaves and branches that had been messily cut apart, likely by accident. Ruby and Penny both looked above, into the thick branches and leaves obscuring whatever was above, before turning to the water where the object had landed.

They shared a look with each other, before Penny reached in, and pulled out a black breakneck, now covered in swamp muck and dripping with water. She reactivated the lights in her eyes, Ruby frowned as she examined the weapon.

“This is Celestian made…” she muttered.

“Indeed,” Penny said, before she contacted the others back at the house. “Sorry to interrupt your dinner, everyone, but it appears that Zwei has found an intruder, possibly still armed and dangerous. Please prepare accordingly, bring the necessary detaining equipment, and alert the Roost.”

Qrow sighed. “And of course it’s right as I sit down and got my plate ready… alright, got your location, got a visual and any info for us?”

“No visual, and two things: there’s a good chance they’re from Celestion, and down a primary weapon,” Ruby said, holding up the breakneck for the others.

“Oooh, a possible assassination attempt!” Nora chimed in, her mouth obviously full of cookies. “Isn’t this exciting, Ren?! I mean, it’s not great obviously, but we get to check this off our milestone list of being with the Keepers!”

“I suppose so, Nora,” Ren said. “ETA 25 minutes—you want us to bring anything else alongside your gear, Ruby?”

“Yeah: dinner to go,” Ruby added. “Something tells me this is going to be a LONG night...”

Note: The Watchers, Seekers, Weavers, Makers, and the rest of the Orders are free to make recommendations for replacements and additions to the Keeper’s team, but aside from the most basic litmus tests, all the screening, interviewing, and hiring is done by the Keepers themselves, usually (but not always) with the help of the current and/or recently retired members.

This is because the Keeper Team has historically had a LOT of questionable hires, who turned out to be incredibly great assets, such as Abner.

#rwby #white rose #the viridian vanguard #fanfic

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qqueenofhades · 7 years

Text

the trash saga of flynn and lucy: xvi

GUESS WHAT PEOPLE. Yep, a year to the day since I posted this far-out-of-control-monstrosity on AO3, it has risen from the dead to (finally) be completed. So yes. Have 12k words of the Garbage Conclusion of the Trash Saga. For @extasiswings, @prairiepirate, @gwennieliz, @frankfreakincastle, @dragon-princess, and @rhymeswithtessa.

Since it’s been 84 years, if you need to catch up on the plot and developments and Garbage until now, AO3.

If Wyatt had more time to think this over, he is fairly sure that he would not have stolen a Royal Navy lieutenant’s uniform, especially one that is several sizes too small for him (he’s not the world’s biggest guy, but who was wearing this, Mighty Mouse?) They needed to get into the Gibraltar docks and try to find the abandoned Mary Celeste without raising suspicion, but the downside of Wyatt’s brilliant disguise is that people keep stopping him and either asking for information or expecting him to know what’s going on. Wyatt’s British accent may be a step up from Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins, but it’s still not great – not to mention he does not have a blessed clue which Navy ships are currently stationed here, and thus no idea which one to pretend to be from. Great. He was trying to be clandestine, but he might as well have hired a plane with a banner to announce that there are impostors among them. Also, it would really help if Rufus would quit snickering.

“Shut up,” Wyatt growls, after their fourth questionable encounter has left the longshoreman squinting over his shoulder suspiciously as they try to walk at a brisk, ordinary pace away. “This is not as easy as it looks. You wanna trade?”

“Yeah,” Rufus says. “Because the British Empire, at the height of colonialism and Darkest Africa and whatever else, is really going to buy that I’m a lieutenant in the Royal Navy. Guess you’re just going to have to keep it up, Officer Wedgie.”

Wyatt glares at him, while resisting the urge to pick the white canvas trousers out of where they have gotten uncomfortably bunched up, yet again. He is relieved, to say the least, that he wasn’t permanently stuck in 1829 and that he’s managed to recover Rufus, that they have some idea of where Rittenhouse ended up, and that they might even manage to see Lucy and Flynn again one of these centuries. Their outlook, however, is not terribly promising. Rufus has reported that the altered history and the CSA still exist in 2017, there’s not any record of Lucy ever being born, and that all their efforts to date still have not succeeded in restoring her. He could, he suggested doubtfully, try some massively theoretical override, go to 1983, the year of Lucy’s birth, and patch in the evidence of her existence to see if it takes, like a software programmer trying a complicated hack on a bit of malfunctioning code. But as Lucy’s life depends on whatever they figure out, Wyatt doesn’t want to go for that kind of Hail Mary unless it’s absolutely necessary. He can’t lose Lucy, or Rufus. Hell, he doesn’t even want to lose Flynn. God knows when that happened.

At last, they manage to talk their way into the salvage yard, after having Wyatt remove the jacket and pretend to be Canadian since he sounds far more Canadian than he does British, and because the Canadian ship, the Dei Gratia, was the one to bring the Mary Celeste in. The Mary Celeste herself, not looking like one of the most famous nautical mysteries of all time, is anchored at the end of the quay. She is a mid-sized, two-masted brig, and going from what little Wyatt scraped off Wikipedia before leaving the present, nobody ever figures out what happened to her crew. The Gibraltar salvage board thought the captain of the Dei Gratia had killed them, or deliberately wrecked them, or was trying to defraud them somehow, but none of that stood up with evidence. The passengers remain gone for good, their abandonment of a perfectly seaworthy ship never explained. And while all kinds of theories have been proposed over the years, from the mundane to the ridiculous, Wyatt has a feeling that the answer to this begins and ends with one word. Rittenhouse.

Looking as casual as possible, he and Rufus make their way down the docks. The ship is being guarded by a pair of bored soldiers, who nonetheless give the boys the fish eye as they approach. Word of the mystery is getting around, and these must not be their first looky-loos. “Step along, you two.”

“Actually,” Wyatt says. “I’m with the Canadian Navy. Dei Gratia is under our flag, I need to ask a few questions, take a brief inspection.”

The man stares at him suspiciously. “There’s no Canadian Navy.”

Wyatt curses under his breath – this is why Lucy is the historian, not him. He knows there definitely is a Canadian Navy now, because he had a friend who served in it, but apparently it hasn’t been founded yet. Still, whenever caught in a lie, the wise thing to do is always to lie harder. He cocks his head and stares angrily at the man. “Excuse me? I’m off the HMCS Nova Scotia, we’re anchored up the coast in Malaga. A messenger was sent up to me once the Dei Gratia brought her in. You want me to go back to my captain and tell him you’re impeding me from carrying out my job?”

Despite himself, the soldier is caught on the hop. “Who’s your captain?”

“Timothy Horton.” Wyatt folds his arms. “You really want me to bring him down here? I’m sure he’s going to be very entertained that you’ve been wasting my time and obstructing the inquiry, so…”

The soldiers exchange a glance, look at Wyatt’s uniform, and as ever, take no account of Rufus at all. Finally, grudgingly, they stand aside. “Ten minutes.”

“Thank you, sir.” Wyatt snaps a sarcastic salute and strides past them, Rufus hurrying after, as they make their way up to the gangplank and over the side to the Mary Celeste’s deck. The soldiers are still watching them, so Wyatt has to make a show of taking notes and jotting down quick sketches. Finally, they manage to get below, into the empty cabin, sunlight slanting on the floor. As they stare around, Wyatt says, “You have any idea?”

“Nope.” Rufus shakes his head, lips grim. “But I’ve been thinking. This happened in history, right? Our history. Before Rittenhouse had their hands on a time machine. They could be involved somehow, but… I’m guessing that for whatever reason, they wanted to stop the Mary Celeste from being abandoned and for it to complete its journey. Which means there was something, or someone, they wanted to survive the trip. Some secret Rittenhouse member on the crew?”

“No idea.” Wyatt pauses, then reaches for the captain’s logs. “Far as I know, everything seemed fine. That was why it was such a big deal when they vanished. But you may be on to something, and I don’t have any other place to start. So…”

With that, he pulls down the nearest book, flips it open, and starts going through it, while Rufus cocks a nervous eye at the door, listening for thumps or interruptions from outside. It gives Wyatt a headache to read so much elaborate nineteenth-century cursive, but at least he had practice during his extended layover in 1829. Finally he says, “Okay. The captain is – was – Benjamin Briggs, he seems clean. Total straight arrow. But the majority owner of the ship is a James H. Winchester, and I swear that name sounds familiar. The first mate is married to his niece, and he recommended the steward. Dammit, why isn’t Lucy here?”

“Winchester?” Rufus looks at him oddly. “Any connection to that crazy mystery house in California? The one built by the widow of the rifle guy?”

“I don’t think so. Unless they’re cousins or something.” Wyatt blows out a frustrated breath. “If we had Google, we could look this up in five minutes, but we’re stuck, what, card cataloguing it? Actually, even that is probably too generous. Hold on. Let me see when Winchester bought her. Uh… 1869, I think. So three years ago.”

“Look, with a name like Winchester, that’s got to be important,” Rufus says. “Anything you can think of? You’re the one who’s the gun expert around here.”

Wyatt wracks his brains. “There was – I think – a James Winchester who was in the Revolutionary War, and a general in the war of 1812. He knew Andrew Jackson, they founded Memphis, Tennessee together. He died a while ago, though, this can’t be him.”

“Well, that’s a bunch of hot spots together,” Rufus says slowly. “Served in the Revolution. Was also in the war of 1812, which is where – in 1814 – things got messed up for us in the present. Knew Andrew Jackson, in whose administration you spent a bunch of time recently, and Jackson was major Rittenhouse. All of that means this Winchester dude was absolutely Rittenhouse too. Probably fairly high up. If this James Winchester is his son or his grandson, I’m guessing he was using the Mary Celeste to run his evil little secret society errands. The crew probably didn’t know. But what if Captain Briggs – you said he was a straight arrow, right? What if Briggs found out? What if Winchester gave him some kind of secret money or letter or whatever else that had to get to his Rittenhouse contacts in Europe, Briggs read it, and flipped a shit. Realized what he’d been doing all this time. And knew that the only way to save himself, his family – his wife and baby daughter were with him, right? – and his crew from Rittenhouse, and make sure they never got the secret, was to…”

“Disappear,” Wyatt finishes with him, heart suddenly pounding. “Rufus, you’re a god damn genius.”

Rufus shrugs, looking somewhat abashed. “We don’t know that it’s true.”

“No, but that makes a hell of a lot of sense.” Wyatt blows out another breath. “That’s got to be what Rittenhouse wants. Benjamin Briggs and the crew disappeared with whatever important secret or artifact he was supposed to deliver, and they want it back. They don’t know exactly when Briggs and company abandoned ship, or where they’d be, so they have to come to the salvage hearings and try to work it out in reverse. If there’s a chance he’s still out there floating on the ocean somewhere, they can head off and pick him up.”

“What is it?” Rufus asks. “Whatever Briggs has that they want?”

“Could be anything,” Wyatt says grimly. “Money, or the secret to how to succeed in business without really trying, or something else that would make it easier for them to do what they do. But whatever it is, they want it. So yeah. We have to make sure they don’t get it.”

“Any chance we’re going to run into Lucy and Flynn?” Rufus glances away sharply as there’s a loud creak from outside. It could just be the ship rocking at anchor, or it could be someone coming on board. “I sent a message for them to join us here, but given how fiddly the connection between the Mothership and the Lifeboat is, I don’t even know when they are, or if they got it. There wasn’t any record of a Lucy Preston being killed at Salem, so I think they got out of there, but I have no idea if they then – ”

There’s another creak. Louder.

“Wyatt,” Rufus says tensely. “I think we have company.”

“Yeah, just…” Wyatt flips even more frenetically through the pages, as if he’s going to wring one more drop of information out of this blasted book. “Hold on, just – ”

“WYATT!”

“Okay!” Wyatt drops the log and grabs the sidearm concealed (with difficulty) beneath his waistcoat, hoping he doesn’t rip all the seams at once. He beckons for Rufus to get behind him, and Rufus dives into a pile of burlap sacks. The cabin door opens, Wyatt’s finger tightens on the trigger, and –

“Don’t!” a voice yells frantically. A very familiar voice. “Don’t shoot!”

Wyatt and Rufus’ hearts stop at the same time.

“Lucy?”

It has not been (it should be normal by now, and yet) the most outstanding few days of Lucy Preston’s life.

“How did you – ” That was her first question when she opened the door and came face to face with Emma Whitmore. Logically, there is no way Rittenhouse should be here. If Wyatt and Rufus have the Lifeboat, and Lucy, Flynn, and Iris have the Mothership, that leaves no extra time machines for Emma and her gang to use. They should have (they should have, and yet by now, Lucy has learned over and over the danger of underestimating these people) been stranded in Salem, maybe burned as witches themselves for that final, signature touch of irony. The only thing she can think of – that lurches horribly to mind and has to be forced away – is that this was some kind of long con on Iris’ part after all, that after she took Lucy and Flynn here, she went out, hopped back in the Mothership, returned to Salem, picked up the Rittencrew, and ferried them back. No, though. That’s not what happened. There are other, far easier ways to do that, and Iris wasn’t feigning. Not after everything that happened with her father and grandfather and Lucy. She didn’t.

“How did you get here?” Lucy repeats, somewhat more in control of herself after the initial shock. She feels Flynn’s hand close on her arm like a vise, trying to put her behind him, but she doesn’t move. “What do you want?”

Emma’s eyes flick between them, both still in a certain state of dishabille. She appears amused. “It wasn’t to ask for a three-way, believe me. As for how I got here, that’s action item number one. We had to build a mostly functional prototype to train Iris in, and while I had the Mothership, we copied out a basic software clone. It was good for about… two jumps, maybe. Last resort backup plan. After you pulled that fun trick in Salem, we sent the emergency signal, and headed out here. So. We will want the Mothership back.”

“Good luck with that,” Flynn says harshly. “Is Rittenhouse dead?”

Emma flinches, ever so slightly. “John? Yes. He’s dead. Your charming daughter killed him.”

“Because you taught her how to be a killer!” Flynn’s shout makes the fragile floorboards quake. If Lucy relaxed her grip the merest fraction, he would probably tear Emma’s throat out with his bare hands. “Because you – ”

“Please,” Emma says dismissively. “Like you would have taught her any different? It’s all you know how to do.”

Flynn goes quite still, even as Lucy, thinking of him back with Asher in Russia, holds tighter. “Is there a point to this?” she says harshly. “Did you just come to gloat and think we’d somehow be persuaded to hand the Mothership back as a result?”

“Not really.” Emma shrugs. “You see, Lucy, now that John’s dead, I’m the de facto leader of Rittenhouse’s operational arm. And I’m not going to fall for your – charms? You aren’t going to convince me that you want to join us, because I know you don’t. But you are going to work with us, one way or another. So let’s make it simple. You do what we want, or Iris dies.”

Lucy jerks. So does Flynn. “What?”

“Simple, really.” Emma is clearly enjoying this, revealing information bit by bit, baiting the hook, stringing them along. The woman is pathological. “We’re going to run a quick errand in the Mothership, and retrieve something that Benjamin Briggs tried to steal from us. Then you’re going to uninstall whatever program Carlin put into it, the remote override, and anything else that could mess it up. Then you’re going to give it back to us. I assume your boy band backups will be here soon, so three of you can take a ride back to the present in the Lifeboat, if you really want to go. The other two will stay behind with us, hostages for your good behavior. Do all that, and we’ll let Iris go. Otherwise, she dies, and so do all of you.”

“You – ” Flynn takes a step, pulling Lucy with him. “You have my daughter?”

“Of course we do.” Emma sounds bored. “I wouldn’t come here to threaten you if we didn’t. She’s only Rittenhouse’s most wanted fugitive after what she did to John in Salem, so the circumstances of her confinement aren’t exactly pleasant. Here.” She takes some Polaroid photographs out of her pocket and shoves them at Flynn. “Have a look.”

Flynn’s fingers suddenly don’t seem to work, and Lucy grabs his hand to steady them. She doesn’t want to look at the pictures either, even as the images burn themselves unavoidably into her eyes. Iris bound and gagged, hair down and eyes furious, surrounded by a bunch of Rittengoons smiling and giving the thumbs up to the camera like big-game hunters who have just brought down an endangered rhino in Africa. It looks as if she’s had at least one beating. Clearly, they wasted no time at all in snatching her when she, Lucy, and Flynn got here to Gibraltar. Iris is tough and terrifying, and if nothing else, probably knows all the tricks and tortures that Rittenhouse will try to use against her, but this –

“You’re despicable,” Lucy says quietly. “Truly despicable.”

“This wasn’t my call.” Emma looks affronted, despite herself. “It was your mother’s. I think she still feels that if she can get the Flynns out of the way, you’ll listen to her, see the light and return to the fold. What is it about you, Lucy, that gets everyone to act so irrationally? Why does everyone bend over backwards hoping you’ll join them and/or fuck them? Your mother, John, him – ” She jerks a thumb at Flynn. “You’re not really that special. Anyway, I told Carol that this wasn’t the way to go about it, that torturing Iris would just make all of you more angry, but you know how she gets. So. Are you coming or not?”

For a moment, Lucy can’t speak. She can’t just leave Iris to Rittenhouse’s tender mercies, she can’t let her mother get away with this, she can’t see a way out of this, and she can’t under any circumstances agree to be separated from Flynn. After a fraught pause, she says, “You’ll take us to wherever you’re holding Iris. I’ll see for myself. Then we can talk… terms.”

Emma smirks, as if to say it’s cute that they think this is a bargain, but fine, she’ll play ball. She shouts down the stairs – clearly she wasn’t dumb enough to come alone – and a whole passel of goons appear to take firm hold of Lucy and Flynn, march them out into the street, and bundle them into a hansom cab that they have apparently rented just for the occasion. Have to do your period-appropriate kidnapping in style, after all. Lucy is sorely tired of being abducted and manipulated and pushed around by Rittenhouse, and she is just about ready to do something drastic to ensure that this is the last time it happens. A muscle is going in Flynn’s cheek, and his hands open and close on his knees. Lucy reaches over to put her hand over his, and their eyes meet, communicating a silent promise. They are in this together.

It isn’t that long of a ride to the handsome brick townhouse on the waterfront that Rittenhouse has acquired for their 1872 headquarters, and in that time, Lucy has some – not much, but some – chance to think. She’s tired of being frightened of her mother, tired of fighting with her, and she still remembers what Flynn did for his father back in Russia. Obviously, that is not going to work as an exact blueprint, but as Emma says, this keeps coming down to Lucy. Lucy is the one on who everything turns. Going ten rounds in the ring with Rittenhouse, trying to out-bleed them, trading punches, one mission after another, rattling around like marbles through all of time and space, isn’t working. And since they’re on the verge of getting everything they ever wanted, this is it. Zero hour. Lucy figures out to outsmart them for good, right now, and end this, or everyone loses everything.

No pressure.

The hansom rolls to a halt before the house, and Emma comes around to get the door like an evil footwoman, offering her hand to Lucy with a faint smirk. Lucy ignores it, though she manages to trip on the step, and Flynn catches her from behind. He sets her upright on the muddy cobbles, managing an impressive amount of restraint given the fact that his daughter is presumably being held prisoner in that very house. The old Flynn would have drawn his gun and barged in, spraying bullets everywhere, but this new Flynn is – well, still inclined to cause calamity, but in a different way. He’s tense, furious, on edge, and frightened, but he’s keeping it in check. Following Lucy’s lead on this. Trusting her.

Lucy hopes it’s justified. Straightens her back, lifts her chin, and looks Emma dead in the eye. “I’d like to see my mother.”

Emma pauses, shrugs, and with an escort of armed goons falling in to either side, they enter the house, making their way to the elegantly wallpapered parlor at the back. Carol Preston is sitting in an armchair sipping tea, looking like a Pride and Prejudice extra, but gets to her feet at the sight of them. “Lucy.”

“Mom.” Lucy smiles sweetly at her, and even strides over to kiss her cheek. “You know that dress is very old-fashioned for 1872, don’t you? And you were the historian too.”

“I haven’t had much occasion to change.” Carol smiles airily back, trying to brush it off, but Lucy sees something almost like hurt in her eyes. “Things have been… complicated.”

“Yes, they have. Where’s Iris?”

Carol’s eyes flicker again, between Lucy and Flynn, as if trying to judge the likelihood of driving a wedge between them one more time. Whatever she sees, it doesn’t please her. Finally she says, “Downstairs. Did Emma tell you what we want?”

“Yes. Thoroughly.” Lucy takes the liberty of helping herself to a seat on the davenport, and after less than an instant, Flynn sits next to her, their hands once more reaching for the other’s. “What did the crew of the Mary Celeste have that Rittenhouse wants?”

“I don’t think that’s – ”

“Mom.” Again, that smile sharpened to draw blood. Lucy feels almost giddy, driven on something that isn’t even rage, isn’t hatred, but is forged stronger than both. Maybe she’s channeling her inner Flynn. “Haven’t you kept enough from me by now?”

Carol flinches, ever so slightly. She appears set to start into her usual spiel about this is what is best for Lucy, that she will come around to it, that she’s done everything to make her see it, but at last, it seems to taste as dry and withered on her tongue as it falls on Lucy’s ears. She keeps staring at her daughter and her – well, whatever Flynn is. There’s still no easy word for it. At last she says, “It’s a device made by Charles Babbage. It was taken to America a few years ago – 1869 – for tests, and for the Rittenhouse leadership to approve it. Now it’s going back to be installed. Or. It was.”

Lucy takes a moment to absorb that. The great Victorian inventor, engineer, and eccentric Charles Babbage is the man who, along with Lord Byron’s daughter Ada Lovelace, will be credited as the father of the computer in a century or so. He drew up prototypes for a Difference Engine and an Analytical Engine that never actually ran, along with just about everything else, and as far as Lucy recalls, he did in fact just die last year, 1871. Rittenhouse has stolen his stuff and is going to put it into practical application – or was going to, until someone on the Mary Celeste did a bunk with it. “So,” she says at last. “Rittenhouse was supposed to have a fully functioning computer, or computer-like machine, a full century before anyone else. You could graduate to the time machine about – when? The Manhattan Project?” That’s not a scary thought at all. “No need to wait until Mason Industries gets around to inventing it in 2016. You’d have it up and running long before any of us were born. We’d be out of the way at long last. No more missions, no more trying to change things piecemeal before we get there. You could have it set.”

“Yes.” Carol looks at her with that glimmer of pride she sometimes used to show, all too rarely, when Lucy tried and tried to impress her. “So you see it.”

“Yes,” Lucy says in turn, quite calmly. “Mom, you know we can’t let you do that.”

Carol seems to want to say something else, but it doesn’t make it to her lips. “Lucy,” she starts again. “Lucy, I – ”

“Emma said that three of us can go back on the Lifeboat, once we’ve given you the Mothership and retrieved this,” Lucy continues remorselessly. “But I can’t go back, because I’ve been erased. Which you know. And since I get the feeling that not a whole lot happens in Rittenhouse without you knowing, did you honestly stand by and tell whoever’s running this organization now that it was fine to delete both your daughters – I don’t know if you remember Amy, but I think somehow you do – in the name of world domination? Pull the switch, I’m gone? Did that really not bother you at all?”

“Of course it…” Carol rubs her thin fingers under her eyes, a gesture Lucy also remembers well, the one her mother always made when extemporizing about how she just wishes Lucy would try harder. “Of course I didn’t want to erase you, Lucy! I never did! I was – I was quite young when you were born, you know. The first time they laid you in my arms and I looked down at you, I… I swore I’d never let anything happen to you. It’s… it’s just… been hard.”

Lucy regards her mother in silence. For the first time in a very long while, she feels a prickle of sympathy. Carol Preston, born and raised Rittenhouse, meets an older college professor when she’s nineteen years old, gets wined and dined and seduced – what did Benjamin Cahill do, whisper dazzling Rittenhouse secrets in her ear? Carol’s probably made plenty of sense of it as an adult, rationalized it, justified it, but she was still a young woman taken advantage of by a major leader in the cult in which she has been indoctrinated from birth. She’s chosen to embrace it, rather than escape it, but she is a victim too. Knew it was her job to breed up good Rittenhouse stock, just like John intended to do with Lucy. She’s still doing this because she genuinely has managed to convince herself it’s best. Otherwise, she might realize what she has done, what she’s given up, and crumble.

The silence continues. Emma has positioned herself behind Carol’s chair like a bodyguard, but when Carol doesn’t speak, she gives her boss a pointed look. “Well? Should I get Iris?”

“I – yes.” Carol’s fingers twist the fabric of her out-of-date dress. “Go get her.”

Flynn tenses, and Lucy puts a hand on his arm, holding him back, as Emma vanishes out the door. After a few minutes, she returns, hauling Iris. The junior Flynn is battered and bruised, but Emma is still having to work hard, and Iris is struggling to escape her cuffs as Emma pushes her into the room. At the sight of them, her jaw drops, but she manages to avoid saying anything out loud. It’s Emma who has to prompt, “Well?”

“I see.” Iris works her jaw, as if checking for loosened teeth. “Congratulations.”

“They’re here,” Emma says. “So remember that if you don’t do as I say – ”

“Yes,” Iris says, sounding bored. “You’re going to kill me, kill us. You still think that’s the worst thing you can do, don’t you? You already killed me and my mother once. You brainwashed me and stole my second life, you’ve erased Lucy, you’ve done God knows what to Daddy, and yet – here we still are. All that effort for really nothing, I’d say.”

Emma looks unimpressed, but Carol flinches again. Finally she says ingratiatingly, “Lucy, honey. I’ll make you a deal. You can go free with Iris and… him.” She can’t bring herself to acknowledge Flynn by any sort of name. “When Rufus and Wyatt get here, they can join you. We will make you any sort of happy home you want, in whatever… configuration. Just get the Babbage device, and give it to us, and you can have anything, any life you please.”

Lucy opens her mouth, then shuts it. Rittenhouse has been leaning so hard on vinegar as a negotiation tactic that they were possibly overdue to bust out the honey, but it still takes her off guard. It’s plain that Carol is starting to buckle a bit, that the guilt is getting to her, that she has once more convinced herself that she’s making up for everything she’s done to Lucy, everything she’s used and deceived and lied and broken apart, if she gives her a golden parachute now. Happy life for you and your boy toy(s), Rittenhouse takes over the world, squaresies. Of course there would be a catch. They’d probably wipe their memories, they wouldn’t even know the terrible price they’d paid for it. And even if they did remember, they couldn’t interfere. Just sit back, and let the bastards win.

“That’s an interesting offer,” Lucy says at last, levelly. “But you know. I kind of already had a life I wanted. It wasn’t perfect, but it was mine. I worked hard and I was good at my job and people respected me. I don’t know if I just want to go back to being a Stanford history professor after everything I’ve done and seen and experienced, but I’d like to have the choice. But neither the existence or the world that I left are still there. It’s altered beyond recognition. So what? You’d make me some fairytale castle somewhere, far away from the world? I’m not a princess in a tower, Mom. I can’t be kept there. I want my sister back. I want my life.”

“We could…” Carol starts, and then stops. Knowing as much as Lucy does that in the timeline Amy exists, Carol is dying of cancer. Can’t figure out how to have one without the other, can’t finesse their way around it without more changes, and ones they have no idea where to find or make. Finally she says, “We could put you back. Into history.”

“Could you?” Lucy looks at her wearily. “Rittenhouse is really good at erasing people, tearing things down. Critics. Problems. Innocents who get in the way, or are even tangentially connected to them.” She nods at Iris. “I’ve never seen anything to suggest it can build again, at least in any image that is not completely horrifying.”

Flynn has been uncharacteristically quiet through this entire thing, letting Lucy and Carol play out their wounds the way Lucy let him face his demons with Asher, but at that, he clears his throat. “You don’t know your daughter very well,” he says to Carol, but his eyes also flick to Iris in a way that means he in no way exonerates himself from it, that he knows the same sin applies to him. “You don’t know that she’d still rather give up everything that matters to her, take on unbearable suffering, if it means she’d save the world. I don’t know how she became so damn heroic with you and the corporate avatar of Satan for parents, but she did. You keep offering her what you would take, or what I would. But she’s not us. She’s better than us. And you’ve had your daughter your whole life, you’ve never known what it was like to lose her as a child, and what have you done with it, with who she is? You’ve missed it. You’ve missed it. And even someone like you, one day you’ll give anything to change it.”

Carol’s face is the color of an old sheet. She can’t look Flynn in the eye. “But I’m giving you what you want, Lucy,” she manages at last. “Your friends, your – ”

“I need to find Wyatt and Rufus,” Lucy says levelly. “Are they here?”

“We – imagine they are, yes.”

“Good.” Lucy starts to get to her feet. “I think I know where I’m going to find them. In the meantime, you’re going to set Iris free, and you two – ” she glances at the Flynns, who aren’t exactly the most stable houseguests – “are going to stay here for now. Emma, Mom, you won’t do anything to them while I’m gone. Is that clear?”

“Lucy – ” Emma, Carol, and Flynn all start at once.

“I said, is that clear?”

They stare at her. Her voice cracks like a whip. She has never felt more powerful, and terrible, and strange, and strong. There’s no time for anything else.

After a pause, everyone nods.

“Good.”

As Lucy is heading down the hallway to the front door, scattering Rittengoons like the Red Sea as she goes, she hears footsteps running behind her, and the next instant, Flynn catches her arm, his entire face carved in a mask of distress. “Lucy. Lucy!”

Lucy wants to go, wants to get this over with, but she can’t shake him off. Or she could, perhaps, but she won’t, and she comes to a halt. If he keeps holding onto her, she might lose her nerve, and like her mother perhaps, she might crumble. In a different way, but still. As ever, she has to tilt her chin back to look at him. “Yes, Garcia?”

“What are you – ” Flynn glares the last goon into retreat, until it’s just them in the corridor, casting faint shadows on the Turkey runner carpet. He lowers his voice to a whisper. “What are you going to do?”

Lucy looks up at him, this contradictory, dangerous, stubborn, impossible, tender man. Words momentarily fail her as she brushes her fingers along his scruffy jaw. “What I have to.”

Flynn’s lips go grim, as if he knew that was the answer, he would give anything to stop her, and yet, by rights, he knows he can’t. She starts to move away, but he grabs her back, almost roughly, and crushes her to him, kissing her ferociously, both hands cupping her face and something almost desperate in his entire body, to hold her, to remember her. Lucy kisses him back just as hard, and then, in the breath between touching and parting, between presence and absence, between now and forever, as their noses and foreheads are brushing, as they are wrecked and shaking, she whispers, “I love you.”

She leaves before he gets himself together enough to answer.

She doesn’t – she can’t bear – to look back.

“So let me get this straight,” Rufus says. “Rittenhouse followed us here with the garage-cinderblock time machine. They want the thing Captain Briggs stole – the Babbage device that means they invent the actual time machine decades ahead of schedule, before we’re even born. And if we do that, your evil mom lets me, you, Wyatt, Flynn, and Iris go off into happy retirement and drink mojitos on the beach. While they’re Emperor Palpatining the shit out of everything and everywhere else, like they could convince Luke not to blow up the Death Star if they just gave him a fat payout and a new identity.”

“Something like that, yes.” Lucy’s eyes still aren’t quite meeting his or Wyatt’s. There were relieved hugs and disbelieving greetings, the way there always are when the Time Team is reunited after a long separation, but they haven’t seen Lucy in a long time (literally), there’s a lot of water under the bridge, and it’s clear to Rufus that she’s holding something back. All three of them have been through a hell of a lot, in their various ways, and this meeting feels different. They’re still on the same side, of course, but there’s more space than there used to be. Some of it is unavoidable. Some of it feels deliberate.

“We can’t do that,” Wyatt says. “We can’t just give Rittenhouse carte blanche to do whatever they want, even if we were somehow taking their word that we’d get a nice life out of it. That’s what we’ve been fighting to avoid this entire damn time!”

“Obviously.” Lucy’s voice is brittle. “I didn’t intend to agree.”

Wyatt looks at her worriedly. They’re sitting under a piling by the docks, the Mary Celeste still just a few dozen yards away, and he reaches out to take her hand. “Lucy, you’re scaring me.”

Lucy takes a deep breath, as Rufus reaches out to grab her other hand. “I have a hunch,” she says evasively. “I need Rufus to explain the science and tell me if it’s even possible. Then we can decide what to do.”

“Oh?” Rufus likes this even less. “What’s that?”

“I’m just thinking.” Lucy stares straight ahead. “All of this trouble, all this disruption to the timeline started with me. Things started going off the rails when Rittenhouse erased me in 1814, and all of our interventions with the war of 1812 messed up America for the Civil War, which led to – well, the present situation back in 2017. So it’s possible to argue that I’m the one factor in common, and that all our efforts to restore me have just succeeded in twisting and deforming this new timeline even more. We’re never going to put me back, and we’re just going to cause more damage trying.”

“Yes, but – ”

“Just let me finish.” Lucy looks like she’ll lose her nerve unless she can plunge through to the end. “I’m the wrench in the gears, don’t you see? We’ve gone off on some alternate reality, some diversion from the mean, because of me. Theoretically, if you cut me out before I did that, if you set the slate clean, everything would snap back into place. History would go back to normal, all the changes would unravel. And if that was the case – ”

Rufus gets it first. “No,” he says. “No. No, no, no.”

“What?” Wyatt demands. “What?”

“You have to,” Lucy says. Her face is dead white, but utterly, stonily resolute. “Then you, Wyatt, Iris, and Flynn go back to the present. The Lifeboat’s been modified, it can take four adults. Once you get there, you blow it up. It’s done. No more loose ends.”

“What about – ” Wyatt’s face freezes as he starts to grapple with a pair of very important omissions. “What about you and the Mothership?”

“Yes,” Lucy says. “That.”

“You’re – ” Wyatt gets it. “You’re going to sacrifice yourself?”

“Yes,” Lucy says again, simply. “We slingshot me back before the first time I’ve visited – the furthest back I’ve gone is Salem, 1692 – so you have to send me earlier than that. Then I just… keep going. If I’m destroyed before I’ve done anything, all my changes vanish. As I said, space-time snaps back into place like a stretched rubber band. Rufus, am I wrong?”

“I – ” Rufus has no idea how he is supposed to sit here and treat this like a cool theoretical science problem, when his friend’s life – her very existence – is the collateral of solving it. “I – yes, technically, I suppose. It could work. But Lucy – Lucy, you can’t – ”

“We’ve always known this turned on me somehow,” Lucy points out, with devastating pragmatism. “John Rittenhouse, Emma, my own mother, you, Benjamin Cahill, everyone. If I can fix it, if I can end this, I have a responsibility to do it.”

“No,” Wyatt says frantically. “No, Lucy. I’ll do it. If it’s just a matter of taking the Mothership back to, whatever, the Jurassic, and crashing it – ”

“You can’t.” Lucy’s voice is soft and very sad. “You’re not the one who broke the timeline. You could destroy the Mothership, but you couldn’t fix all the other stuff. Once I’m gone, everything resets. Benjamin Briggs went out to sea and never came back, to keep the Babbage device away from Rittenhouse. Made a sacrifice and saw it through. Now I have to do the same. It has to be me.”

“We’ll all go,” Rufus says. “If it’s a final suicide mission, blowing up in a blaze of glory together – we’ll go with you to the end, Lucy, you don’t have to – ”

“No.” Lucy looks at both of them with unspeakable tenderness, squeezing their hands. “No. We don’t have to all die. You two can live. Flynn and Iris can live. Iris was back before I got erased and started all this disruption, she’ll still be alive after I’m gone. No more time machines. No more Rittenhouse. Well, they’ll exist in some way, but they won’t have any more power than any other major evil corporation, and I can’t get rid of all the bad things in the world. But I can do this. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to never exist. I don’t want to forget you, I don’t want you to forget me. And yet.”

Wyatt tries to answer, and can’t. His eyes swim with silent, unshed tears, until he finally lifts Lucy’s hand to his mouth and kisses it. “I could never forget you.”

“You will,” Lucy says, very gently. “You will never have known me.”

“I don’t accept that. We’re here, we’re living this, we’re remembering each other right now How can that just… go away?”

Lucy touches his face. “Maybe it won’t. Maybe you’ll dream of me.”

Wyatt closes his eyes as if he’s been shot, and can’t come up with any other words at all. There is a long, impossible silence, and then Lucy rouses herself, looking at Rufus. “Could you do it?” she asks. “Could you program the Mothership to fly into the sun, so to speak? I get into it, and… go? Rittenhouse doesn’t get the Babbage device, or it, or me. Could you?”

“Could I program it for a self-destruct course into what, the beginning of time?” Rufus’s voice scratches in his chest. “The override is still in it, so… I suppose, but – ”

“Please,” Lucy says. “Garcia, Iris, and I came here in the Mothership, I know where it is. We have to go before Rittenhouse knows what’s up.”

“Just go?” Rufus isn’t sure he believes that. “Without – saying goodbye? To him? Flynn?”

It’s Lucy’s turn to close her eyes. “I said goodbye to him already,” she says, after a very long pause. “I think he knew it.”

Rufus opens his mouth, then shuts it. There is an almost physical ache in his chest, the refusal to face what is in front of him, to wrap his head around it, and yet it must be nothing to what Wyatt – much less Lucy – is feeling. He can’t do that, he can’t do this. His big nerd brain, crammed full of science and engineering and the most esoteric bits of bullshit known to man, scrambles for another solution. Anything. No matter what.

He can’t find one.

“Okay,” he says at last. “Let’s go.”

It’s not far from the docks to where Lucy and the Flynns have left the Mothership, and Rufus’s stomach turns over at the sight, the fact that he can’t put this off anymore. His hands are shaking as they cycle the overrides and climb in to look at the control panel as if this is a mildly interesting science fair project. But the unavoidable context is that Lucy is going to get into this, seal herself up, and fly up the ass of time and space, a trip from which she will not return. They have done everything together, it is unfathomable that it should end with one of them alone. But Lucy is Lucy. She’s always been the best of them.

Rufus forces himself to do this dispassionately, to avoid the desperate urge to cheat. He can’t half-ass this, and yet he so badly wants to, as he plugs into the main console and starts tinkering with the parameters for a final jump. This feels like something that a white dude named Steve should be doing, taking a plane out to sea to save everyone and dying in the process. Rufus can’t be sure how early is too early to send Lucy. Can he just, say, plonk her down in the medieval era somewhere, or should it be ancient Rome? Cavemen? Is she actually the meteor that kills the dinosaurs? This is ridiculous. He was never trained for this.

Finally, Rufus settles on the only thing he can think of. He has to send Lucy as far back as the Mothership can go, however far this pocket of altered space-time exists, and out the other side. But there’s a scientific principle known as quantum suicide, which operates along the same lines as Schrödinger’s cat. Basically, if the many-worlds interpretation of reality is true – which Rufus now knows for a fact it is, given the number of timeline changes they’ve made – death isn’t really death. Under certain circumstances, if you die in one world, you have to spawn a competing one where you survive. Maybe that explains the afterlife; you die in physical reality, but you’re reborn somewhere else. If Lucy dies in this alternate history, there’s a chance – the tiniest, most ridiculous, mathematical technicality of a chance – that the reality where she survives is their own. That one day, who knows when because time doesn’t really apply in its normal dimensions, she can come back. Maybe that’s years before or after. Maybe she comes back here, in 1872, and lives a life never knowing them. Maybe it’s centuries in the future (if Trump and the North Korean guy don’t blow it up first). But she could still live. Maybe. Maybe.

Science has always been Rufus’s comfort and solace. He has to take what he can get.

Finally, Rufus’s work is complete. The Mothership is programmed on a straight dead run, as far back as can be gone, and then when it hits the edges of reality, it’ll explode, because there will be no more time left to traverse. He’s almost jealous of Lucy, in a sick way. No other human will do this, will so thoroughly transcend all mortal limitations. It’s almost apotheosis, fittingly. She is going out by sticking two middle fingers up Albert Einstein’s ass. So to speak. Might see all of history flash before her, know it as if she was there, a final gift for someone who has loved it so much and studied it so long. He hopes.

Rufus raises a hand, far too steady for the situation, and punches the button to lock in the coordinates. The trajectory can’t be changed now.

“Well?” Lucy says. “What do I need to do?”

“You hit that lever there.” Rufus points. “The autopilot is engaged to do the rest. You don’t need to steer, after all. You just need to…”

He can’t finish the sentence. Lucy does.

“Go.”

Wyatt has been standing with his back to them, unable to watch, but at this, he turns around. He has lost his battle with the tears, and they’re dripping down his face as he swipes it roughly with his arm. “Lucy – ”

“It’s all right.” Lucy looks a little teary herself, but her chin is firm. “I’m not scared.”

Rufus and Wyatt look at her with helpless, impossible love and admiration. They reach out and take each of her hands, walking her slowly to the Mothership for the last time, unable to countenance the prospect of getting there. They drag out each step, but they know that as ever, the clock is ticking. This needs to be a fait accompli before Rittenhouse gets any wind of it. Lucy’s told them where to find Flynn and Iris. Grab them, get to the Lifeboat, and back to what should be a no-more-terrible-than-usual present, back to normal. Except there’s no Lucy. There won’t be again, according to every decent set of odds in the universe.

It’s too much. They can’t do it.

But Lucy isn’t going to let them avoid it.

They reach the Mothership, and communally freeze. They close their eyes, draw in a breath and then out. Lucy squeezes their hands tight enough to hurt, as if this, among others, is the last sensation she will take into the supernova. That this, she will remember.

She turns to them. Leans down and kisses Wyatt, then Rufus, and they reach out to crush her in their arms in a tangled three-way hug. They’re shaking, but she’s not, and she’s the one who has to push back and start up the steps to her own tomb. Then she stops.

“Flynn,” she says. For the first time, her voice shakes. “Tell him.”

Wyatt and Rufus can’t fathom doing that. Tell Garcia Flynn that he’s lost another loved one, even like this? He could grab the Lifeboat and try to crash after her, leave them stranded here, or – well, just about anything else terrible. But they both nod. As if they’d do anything else.

Wyatt says, “Okay.”

Rufus says, “Okay.”

Lucy looks back at them, filling herself with the sight of them, the sound, the memory. Then she turns back, climbs the steps, and seals the door.

For a moment, even if the alternative is worse, Rufus hopes he’s made a mistake. That he programmed something wrong. That it won’t go where it’s going, and it won’t do what it’s doing. But he knows himself too well. He didn’t make a mistake.

The blue lights flash. The gyration starts to build. He can’t see Lucy, but he can imagine her, sitting calmly in the pilot seat, facing the lever she has to pull. If there’s a moment of fear, of weakness, if she sobs, if she puts her hand over her face and gives into the sheer grief of losing, of ceasing, of the sheer, simple mortal fact of finiteness, nobody will ever know.

The Mothership flashes white as a burning star, as Rufus and Wyatt shield their eyes but don’t look away. Whirls faster and faster.

Then it’s gone.

Garcia Flynn doesn’t know what’s going on, but he doesn’t like it.

To be fair, it would be surprising if he knew anything, could remotely focus on it, could have attention to spare for anything at all, when Lucy’s last words are still rattling around in his head. She said – she said – she said – and it’s succeeded admirably in freezing all motor or higher cognitive functions. Good thing she didn’t wait around for an answer, as Flynn’s brain was still making a noise like a fork in a garbage disposal, but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s missed his chance to say it back. If he could get himself to the point, after all. But she said it, and now she’s gone, and he doesn’t know how long it should take to track down Wyatt and Rufus and ask them – whatever she was going to ask them, but it feels as if it should have been long enough. There’s an unease in his stomach, a prickling on the back of his neck, that doesn’t merely derive from waiting in a parlor across from – now that John Rittenhouse is dead, just as Flynn tried to do so long ago back in 1780 – the organization’s two highest-ranking CEOs. However Rittenhouse hierarchy works, Carol and Emma have to be near the top, and they’re just sitting there. Flynn should be throttling them.

But he – but they – promised. Promised Lucy. They can’t.

To distract himself, and because his head won’t shut up about failing her again, Flynn looks at Iris. She looks more or less fine, if you can discount the refreshing spot of kidnapping and beating that she just went through – painful, but not life-threatening. She doesn’t look broken, in other words. The Flynn family is too used to violence for it to be anything new, or that they can’t recover from, and after a glance at Emma and Carol, Iris gets up and moves to sit next to her father. “I’m all right,” she says quietly. “They can’t hurt me anymore.”

Flynn lets out an unsteady breath, and takes her offered hand. There are plenty of things he could say and think about the fact that they have hurt her this much already, but for once, he doesn’t. The four of them continue to sit there in the world’s most awkward détente, until something on Emma’s wrist beeps, and she looks down, then frowns. “Something’s going haywire with the Mothership.”

“What?” Flynn jumps to his feet. “You send some pit crew to steal it while our backs were turned?”

“This isn’t us,” Emma says sharply. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t – ”

“What is it?” Carol gets to her feet, looking alarmed. “What’s going on?”

“I still have a link to the Mothership’s CPU.” Emma waves her wrist at them. “It’s – I’ve never seen readings like this, it’s – ”

She stops.

“It’s what?” Flynn half-shouts. “WHAT?”

“It’s running backwards,” Emma says, almost uncertainly. “It keeps going faster and faster by exponential magnitudes, it’s like it’s malfunctioning. Or like it’s – ”

She doesn’t finish the sentence, but Flynn has acquired a fairly close competence with the Mothership’s inner workings, and he doesn’t think that it could be plunging by itself through time, if someone wasn’t driving it. He doesn’t know what happened or how, but he is convinced at that moment that he knows who is. And that he was right about the kiss earlier. It was more than just their last one for now. It was their last one ever. That’s why she said it.

“Lucy,” he says. “Lucy!”

“Carol!” Emma whirls to her boss. “Carol, we can still stop this. Give the order, I’ll get the team, get to the Lifeboat and intercept her before she goes totally off the map. We still have something like five minutes to cut her off. Now, otherwise we’re going to lose – Carol? Carol! Listen to me!”

Carol Preston has remained rooted to the spot, a look of awful realization coming across her face. Her lips move around something that might be her daughter’s name.

“Lucy?” Large chunks of information are falling into place in Flynn’s head, like crashing boulders. “LUCY!” As if she can hear him. As if she can hear anything. He snatches for his gun and is set to tear out after Emma, not even knowing what he’s going to do after that, just that he can’t stand by and let this happen. The bleeping from Emma’s wrist is getting more and more frantic, frenzied and scrambling, a long, piercing electronic whine. The Mothership is doing something it was never designed to do, and it’s doing it fucking fast. If Lucy’s aboard, if she’s doing it, if it was a choice to take this to the end –

“Carol!” Emma shouts, snapping her fingers, looking as if she’s on the brink of shaking the older woman. “Carol, orders? ORDERS!”

Carol still doesn’t move. It’s not clear if she remembers how. But as Emma clearly realizes that she’s on her own in this, and lunges for the door, Carol suddenly comes back to life. Moves at the same time, jerks open a desk drawer, and pulls out a modern Glock handgun with wildly shaking hands. Aims it – not at Flynn or Iris, but Emma – and pulls the trigger.

The sound of the shot is deafening in the small parlor. Emma’s lunge turns into a stumble, and she goes down hard, the back of her left thigh swiftly turning red. “Are you out of your mind?” she yells, face twisted in pain and rage. The electronic whine from her wrist is now almost at full volume, a shrieking fire alarm. “What the – what the fuck did you – ”

Carol raises the gun, hands shaking harder, clearly about to shoot again and finish this, but it’s Iris – Iris, who Carol had tortured, Iris, who Emma helped brainwash in the first place – who steps between them. “Carol,” she orders. “Carol, give me the gun.”

Flynn’s heart shrivels in his throat to see Iris once more on the wrong end of a gun held by a Rittenhouse member. The whining continues to shrill at full volume, but it’s starting to turn sporadic, turn patchy, going for brief bursts and then cutting out. Then it raises one more time, and cuts off in a puff of white smoke and breaking glass from Emma’s wristwatch. When Flynn snatches it up, the readout is cracked and black and empty. There’s no more Mothership CPU. There’s no more Mothership.

There’s no more Lucy.

He isn’t sure who the howl comes from, him or Carol, maybe both. He grabs the broken monitor, shaking it as if to restore a lost wifi signal, but there’s no use, he already knows it. He can feel it in his bones, his heart, his soul, the absence of everywhere Lucy used to live, everything she owned, even if he didn’t know it, from the moment he saw her. Garcia Flynn is a big man, but he crumples to his knees like a scrap of silk or rice paper, feels as if his spine has snapped, he can’t stand up. The world is once again intolerable, unbearable, slamming him into the ground. He struggles to endure this, when there is not enough space inside him for himself and the grief, and doesn’t, as ever, have a single notion how.

“Lucy.” Carol’s voice sounds like a ghost. “Lucy.”

“She’s gone,” Emma gasps, angry and hurt and furious. “She’s gone, and you shot me.”

Carol raises the gun again, but Iris reaches out and grabs the muzzle, jerking it out of her hand. “You’ve killed enough people,” she says, cold as stone. “Even if you never pointed the gun at them directly and pulled the trigger, you have. That’s plenty.”

Emma stares at her, knowing that this is the most unexpected deliverance of all time, that she doesn’t deserve it in the least. That Iris would be justified in standing aside and letting Carol finish her, or taking the gun and doing it herself. Emma opens her mouth, then shuts it, and rolls onto her back with a grimace, clutching her wounded leg. She can’t get to her feet. The silence thunders.

Iris switches the safety on, tucks the gun into her waistband, and walks over to Flynn. Reaches out, and takes him by the arm. Tentatively, she says, “Daddy?”

Flynn can’t answer her, can’t get his tongue around words. He isn’t sure he will be able to again. He lets her help him to his feet, because he can’t think what else to do. Puts his arm around Iris’ shoulders, as she stares down Carol without a flinch. She says, “You let us go.”

Carol is ashen-faced. It’s not clear that she would resist even if she could. As if now, just as Flynn warned, it’s hit. The realization of all the offerings she has burned on Rittenhouse’s altar, and what they have left her with as a result. Now. This.

Nothing.

Iris says, “Did I stutter?”

Carol shakes her head.

Garcia and Iris Flynn turn their backs, and start to walk. Move past Emma, still on the floor, and down the hall, and out the door, out into a world that somehow still exists, is turning onward. It’s barely a dozen yards down the street until they run into Wyatt Logan and Rufus Carlin, coming the other way. One look at everyone’s faces confirms that nobody needs to ask what happened. Nobody can bear it.

They go to find the Lifeboat, and one last time, jump home.

It’s difficult to grieve for someone who, technically, never lived, and so has never died.

When Wyatt, Rufus, Flynn, and Iris get back, it – for one thing – isn’t 2017 anymore, as they��ve spent enough time mucking around in the past that it’s the new year, 2018. For another, everything is back to normal. History has unbent. Trump is president of the USA, not the CSA (equally depressing though that is) and everything has happened the way it was supposed to. Rittenhouse doesn’t exist, so far as they can tell, because Emma and Carol were stranded in 1872. They search and search until they find the small notice of an obituary in 1895, in San Francisco, for a C. Preston. As for Emma, nothing. Maybe she died there in Gibraltar; medical care still wasn’t that great. Maybe not. Who knows. As for Carol, she went home. Tried to live out the rest of her life before she herself was born. Knowing what she’d lost the whole time. Nobody has warm feelings for her, but that still hurts.

Lucy Preston does not exist, obviously. Has never existed.

And yet, Flynn, Wyatt, Rufus, and Iris remember her.

Jiya doesn’t. Denise doesn’t. Connor Mason doesn’t. They bemusedly take everyone’s word for it that they had a partner named Lucy (they’re more confused as to how Flynn is now part of the gang), but it’s the sort of all-right-whatever-you-say acceptance of their zany adventures rather than any real understanding. Jiya doesn’t remember having forgotten Rufus, at least, and their reunion is happy. At least someone gets that. Rufus deserves it.

With no more Rittenhouse and no more time machines (since they destroyed the Lifeboat when they got back, before Connor Mason could sleaze in there and have anything to say about it one way or another) there is no more Time Team, no more insane, hair-raising missions through time and space. Everyone struggles to go back to anything resembling an ordinary life, but it doesn’t work. Wyatt can’t go back to being a grunt with a gun, even a special ops one, and he leaves Pendleton a few months later. Ends up, of all the things nobody would expect, moving in with Flynn and Iris.

It is oddly easier like that. They can grieve together, in whatever strange, truncated way they can. Flynn has bought a small house on a leafy street, with the payout that Mason Industries gave him once they also saw about expunging his criminal record. He and Iris have no idea what they’re doing with the rest of their lives just yet, though Iris has been making noises about going back to school. After he bought the house, Flynn donated the rest of the money to the Stanford history department, to establish the Lucy Preston Scholarship. He feels it’s as if what she would have wanted.

(He thought about calling it the Memorial Scholarship, but he can’t do that. Not least when there’s nobody actually there to remember. Stanford is confused enough about why he’s giving money for someone who doesn’t exist, but it’s a lot, so they don’t ask.)

Wyatt has also given part of his payout to the scholarship, but he’s invested the rest, so he and Flynn don’t need to work for a while yet – or ever, if they don’t want to. They will, because they’re not the type of men who can sit idle, but they’re still reeling, and they’re in no shape to embark on some new career. Private security would seem to fit their existing skill set, but they’re both tired of the weight and sound and sight of guns, the killing they have done, and the choices they can’t take back. They still bicker a lot, because of course they do, but in a different way. It’s easier to just miss Lucy with every waking moment if they know the other is doing the same. A strange kind of solace. Misery loves company.

It’s been about eight months since they returned – it’s August, in fact – and it’s a warm, perfect summer night in the Bay Area. Flynn is home alone. Wyatt is out taking one of his long night drives along the Pacific Coast Highway, and Iris is downtown at an event. Flynn is wondering if he has the ambition to get up and make himself some dinner, but he isn’t sure he does. At least when he lost Lorena (and Iris) the first time, he had the whirl of preparation to occupy him, the insane belief that there was going to be a time machine that he would steal and make it better, but this time, he doesn’t have anything. An older Lucy has not returned to console him for the loss of herself, or hand him another journal. He’s just had to grieve in the way ordinary people do, and it is straight up arse. There is no way to make it easier. It can’t be avoided or gotten rid of. Just gotten through.

After a moment, Flynn lets out a long, unsteady breath, gets to his feet, and unenthusiastically opens the fridge, reminding himself that they need to do the shopping at some point. He’s just trying to work out what he can concoct from the remnants, when there’s a knock on the door.

He frowns. He wasn’t expecting anyone, it’s late even for some dedicated Jehovah’s Witness, and if it was Wyatt or Iris, they wouldn’t knock. In fact, his mind flashes immediately to the fact that Rittenhouse isn’t quite defunct after all. They’ve resuscitated somehow, they’ve tracked them down, and now it’s about to happen one more time. Flynn thinks of his gun, locked upstairs in a safe. Can he run up and get it if they break down the door?

After a long pause, the knock comes again. Tentative. It doesn’t sound like the prelude to an onrush of secret-society thugs with automatic weapons.

Flynn blows out a jagged breath, picks up the rolling pin just in case – maybe he can hit them on the head if he needs time to grab his gun – and advances warily down the front hall. The porch light has switched on, as it does with motion, and he hesitates. This could be anyone. He’s never going to get over his fear of unexpected visitors. They could –

He unhooks the bolt chain and opens the door an inch. “Can I help you?”

“Garcia?” The voice sounds faint. “Garcia, is that you?”

A lightning bolt carves Flynn down on the spot. He jerks the door open so fast he almost tears it off its hinges, and –

She does look older. There are a few silver streaks in her dark hair, though her skin is still smooth and flawless, except for a light spiderweb of lines around her eyes. She is dressed well, clutching a purse like a shield, waiting for this to be a total failure. At the sight of him, she opens her mouth, clears her throat, and says, “I’m sorry, this is awkward – I know you don’t know me, but if I can expl – ”

Flynn doesn’t let her finish. Takes half a step, half a lunge, seizes her around the waist, and doesn’t care what is remotely the case, what is truth or lie. He kisses Lucy Preston until neither of them can breathe, as her hands entwine around him and don’t let go and they pull each other’s heads from side to side, until they break apart and Lucy’s tears are falling thick and fast, even as her smile is blinding. “How…” she gasps. “How do you remember me?”

“How are you here?” In the competition of impossible questions, Flynn feels as if his is still the more pertinent. “How did you – how – ”

“I don’t know.” Lucy laughs shakily, even as she wipes her eyes. “But I think it’s called quantum suicide.”

That makes bugger-all sense to Flynn, one of Rufus’ mumbo-jumbo scientific concepts, perhaps, but he’ll ask him to explain later, later, later. He stares at Lucy one more time, then grabs her again, the purse falling with a thump to the porch as she shoves him back against the door, and they stumble through. It is wet and raw and savage, too desperate and rough and disbelieving to be tender, as they teeter through the dark front hall, banging into everything on the way. They are gasping and swearing into each other’s mouths, kissing and then pressing their foreheads together and then biting at each other, growling and sobbing. Lucy’s back hits the wall as Flynn lifts her, her legs linking around his waist, as they gulp half a breath from bare necessity, then turn and go after each other again.

Somehow, they make it down the hall to Flynn’s bedroom, shedding clothing as they go. Lucy’s in her bra and underpants by the time the door shuts, Flynn is undoing his belt and kicking off his trousers, and Wyatt, Iris, and the entire San Francisco 49ers football team could walk in right now and he would not give a single damn. He pulls Lucy into his arms, springing the bra loose, as she shucks the panties. Then it’s just them, in their skins, and it’s a dream, and it’s not, and it’s impossible, and it is not.

Lucy utters a small moan when Flynn enters her, their bodies jerking, her hands running up his thighs, trying to pull him closer, closer. Her arms go up around his neck, holding him close as he buries his face in her loosened hair, breathing the scent of her, trying to hold back his thrusts but completely unable to pace himself, needing nothing but the feeling of her. He kisses her blindly, tasting salt from her tears or his own, racking and rasping, half on the bed and half nowhere at all, her knee hiked up alongside his hip. She makes a little whining noise every time he hits that old sweet spot deep inside her, and it drives him harder.

They lose everything but each other. Lucy’s fingers claw and comb at the back of Flynn’s neck, in the dark hair that has a few silver threads of its own, then pulls his head back to hers as their mouths devour each other. At some point they roll over, Lucy ends up on top, and she rides Flynn mercilessly, head thrown back, mouth open, pulling herself against him with an intensity too frenetic to be distracted by anything else. Flynn would gladly die like this (and isn’t entirely sure he hasn’t), as if his heart will explode. It might have. He can’t tell.

It isn’t much longer until Lucy gasps, shudders from head to toe, and loses herself, dragging him after her within the space of a few moments, as she sways atop him, then leans forward, her head landing on his shoulder as she lies atop him, heaving. Flynn’s arms are somewhere far away in the whiteness, but he regains enough control to wrap them over her. “Are you…” He can’t understand why Lucy looks blank until it registers that he’s speaking in Croatian, and he coughs and struggles to switch back to English. “Are you really here?”

“I think so.” Lucy’s eyes shine with tears as she pushes herself up on one elbow to look down at him, her hair tumbling around her face, her lips bruised with kissing and her voice unbearably tender. “Are you?”

All things considered, Flynn isn’t entirely sure. He reaches up to touch her again, running a hand down her side, moving up to cup her breast, circling the nipple, tracing the collarbone. If this isn’t his Lucy, it’s a perfect imitation, and he has to fight one last stab of fear that this is all just a clever trick. He will wake up in morning light, and she will be gone.

There is something he still needs to say to her, for that matter. But last time, it was a goodbye, and he is too frightened that if he utters it now, it will be the same. That she will thank him, slide off, gather her clothes, and go. Or just dissolve into stardust. So he can’t. But God, how badly he wants the chance to try. The time. The mercy.

Instead, Garcia Flynn whispers, “Stay.”

Lucy leans down again, rests her head against his, and kisses the corner of his mouth. She seems to sense the words he can’t bring himself to, and settles back against his shoulder. That, perhaps, is what makes him finally believe it. That there will in fact be time, that she can wait, that she knows, that she knows. It does not have to be said tonight, because there will be more nights. More days. More mornings, and evenings, and weeks, and years.

Lucy shakes a bit. Starts, at long last, to cry. He holds her tighter.

She says, “Always.”

THE END

#garcy #garcy ff #lucy x flynn #the trash saga of flynn and lucy #timeless ff #it liiiiives

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