#me??? jumping right into the angst /and/ injured share piles??

[youandtom2]

An Avenger's Revenge (dark!Peter Parker)

CHAPTER 1 // SERIES MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Spider-Man was just one of the mighty, powerful Gods that rule the Earth. A night of death, betrayal, war and defeat turns him into a myth, a memory to be forgotten about by the other Greedy Gods that share this planet. Without his generosity, the world takes a turn for the worse and the people are desperate for a solution. With a rebellion on the horizon, it may be your only chance to rise up against the Greedy Gods and restore Spider-Man's legacy.

Themes: dystopian, futuristic, smut, angst, death!, dark concepts**, a tad bit fluff :) **T/W: will be specified per chapter - none in this one

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Everything did not go according to plan. Not one bit. 

The slums of Captain America’s faction has its stench wafting in through your nose, chilling you to the bone as you walk your way towards the water hole. It’s merely a poorly constructed circle of bricks that surrounds a puddle at best that refills itself every six hours. If you get there early enough, you’ll be lucky to get a bucketful that doesn’t have any dirt in it. 

A cautious eye keeps you protected, carefully watching the many sleeping bodies camped in the town square. Miners who are too injured to work, criminals who have been caught stealing, elderly too frail to move, all types of rejects out here in the outer slums left to rot. 

How the hell did you end up here? This time two years ago you were sitting by Tony’s side in a magnificent palace, eating breakfast with him on his final day, talking of a future that was meant to be, a time where optimism existed. 

What Tony feared the most came true; the Avengers were beyond furious with Tony’s decision to make Peter Parker his beneficiary, declaring that it was an act of the utmost betrayal. In their eyes, he wasn’t worthy of such responsibility, questioning ‘who was he to take over? Who was Peter Parker to be the first God amongst the elites to own two factions? Who even was Peter Parker?’

You didn’t get the chance to find out. You vividly remember the morning after Tony’s death, the morning Peter Parker was supposed to arrive, waking up in a pool of sweat that had soaked through your sheets. Initially, you thought it was a result of a bad dream but as soon as your eyes spotted the black smoke piling into your room you knew something wasn’t right. Panic fuelled your limbs, jumping into action and frantically trying to find an escape. The same 3 flights of stairs, quickly burning, were black with soot and you coughed and wheezed your way to the upper floor where things weren’t much better. Paralysed with fear, you barely had time to fret over the complete destruction of the palace, fire climbing up the golden walls and melting away the remnants of Tony’s memory. If it wasn’t for the sun’s beams peaking through the thick black smoke, you might’ve never crawled your way outside. 

You will never forget seeing the armada of soldiers congregating outside Tony’s palace as it burned behind you. Who’s soldiers - you didn’t know. You barely had time to think. The heat was unbearable, the smoke still scorched the inside of your lungs and screams flooded your ears. Only when you thought you were safe were you truly able to process the depravity of what was now your reality and you couldn’t describe the despair, the anguish that wounded your heart as it pounded in your chest, endless tears trickling down your red cheeks.

The image of Tony’s palace engulfed in a ploom of flames and smoke became tattooed into your mind. It’s there when you close your eyes and with every blink, you ask yourself…why did it have to end that way?

You are lucky to have survived but it seems that your luck ended there; trapped and captive in Captain America’s faction, you fight to meet dusk at the end of every day.  

“Is that you, dear?” Alma shouts from her corner. 

“Yes, it’s me. Are you alright?” 

“Yes, yes, just a little cold is all.” You immediately empty the water into your dispenser before tending to the old women gently rocking away in one of the four corners of your shared shack. You know Alma from Tony’s faction, a retired cook also kidnapped from her home and dragged to Captain America’s faction, and you were happy to see a familiar face. Injured on her way here (completely not her fault), she was thrown into the slums. It was a fate that most of Tony’s population sadly faced; workers, mothers, children, the elderly ripped from their homes by soldiers of different coloured uniforms. Golden, navy, black, green, purple, yellow, each representing a different Avenger. It was a free for all, like a pack of wolves tearing away at the one slab of meat, desperate to snatch themselves more workers to bring into their operation and feed their greed. 

“The water should last you until I get back. I need to go into the factory a little earlier today. There’s still a surplus of infinity stones left over from yesterday and someone’s got to polish them.” 

“I don’t envy you, I’ll tell you that much. Be careful!” 

“See you later, Alma.” 

The day is dull. The faction sits under a dark looming cloud that looks like it will release a downpour any minute. You just hope that you catch the train cart before it does; being cold and wet for the rest of the day won’t do you any good. Ahead of you is a long line of workers; miners, factory workers, machine operators, all ready to catch the train into the inner city for a long, laborious day. Working for Captain America isn’t nearly as pleasant as working for Tony was. Lost in his unethical ways, Captain America keeps production going as often as he can because watching his income turn from dirt to treasure from on high was his drug. Like Tony, Captain America chose the podium for his palace with precision and purpose. The grand white building proudly sits atop a hill, overshadowing the faction. Facing east, his palace is the first thing sunrise’s glow hits and the last thing it sees before it dips below the horizon, creating a magnificent backdrop for all of the faction workers to worship. Little does he know, most spit at the sight.

A forty-five minute journey later, you enter the factory. You are greeted by some of your colleagues, some of which you get on really well with; it’s the only thing about your job that you can appreciate. Albeit, nobody can quite fill the missing piece of you that was left behind in Tony’s faction. After the fire, you lost all contact with other staff, your mother too. To this day, you still don’t know if they made it out alive, and if they did, what became of them? What of Ginny? There’s no way of knowing, but for now you find solace in the women in the factory.

Although Tony lost everything he had worked for in one day, he can thank his lucky stars that the invasion was posthumous, because if his illness didn’t kill him, the sight of his faction being destroyed certainly would’ve done the job. Despite all of his losses, there was only one person that suffered more than anyone else that day. One who had lost not only the inheritance of Tony’s legacy, but his own too. Wealth, status, power, control, gone within a matter of hours. No one else but Peter Parker. His short-lived rule came to a bitter, devastating end, one that even the Godly power yielded from his infinity stones couldn’t prevent.

After all, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. 

“It was terrible!” A voice exclaims just a couple of yards down the conveyor belt. “The whole faction was up in flames in seconds, explosions everywhere, destruction around every corner - utter chaos. There’s nothing left of it now, just dust and rubble. Before I could even make an escape I was grabbed by Captain America’s men and thrown in the back of a truck. Next thing I know I’m thrown an apron and shoved in here.” 

The conversation reaches your ears and you can’t help but eavesdrop. She must be from Tony’s faction, just like you are. Finally someone else that could share your pain. 

“Sorry…you're from To--I mean Iron Man’s faction too?” 

The girl stops polishing the stone she’s working on and looks at you blankly. She swallows thickly before answering. “Um, no. Spider-Man’s.” 

“What? Spider-Man’s faction is destroyed too?” 

She nods her head. “The day after Iron Man’s death we were…we were invaded by e-everyone, Captain America, Black Widow, The Hulk, Doctor Strange, Hawkeye and Thor, everyone. We…we didn’t know why, we just tried to escape, but they were everywhere just grabbing who they could. Like it was planned.” 

“Because it was,” you mutter dejectedly. The girl from Spider-Man’s faction and a few others around her gasp, murmuring unintelligibly. “Spider-Man was to inherit everything of Iron Man’s, including his faction and I guess the other Avengers weren’t too happy, jealous even. They would’ve done anything to stop that from happening.” 

“Holy shit, holy…shit! Spider-Man was going to have two factions?! How much richer can these bastards get? Wait, how do you know this?”

“I was one of Iron Man’s maids. Told us we were going to be taken care of--”

“Yeah, Spider-Man told us all the same thing. And we believed him.” Her voice is downcast, eyes sinking low. She mindlessly fiddles with the stone in her hand, thoughts of betrayal running through her mind. “Guess we just shouldn’t trust anything the Gods say, huh?” 

“Yeah.” You sigh. The conversation fades into silence and suddenly no one knows what to do, too downtrodden to carry on their work. You would hate to leave the conversation on such a bitter note, so you swiftly introduce yourself with what smile you can manage, one that tells her that you share her pain.

She smiles back. It’s forced but at least it’s something. “I’m Mina.” 

That conversation you had with Mina two years ago is what brought you two closer, and for the first few weeks at the factory, you felt like hot shit. You were Iron Man’s maid. Everyone wanted to know what that was like, what inside an Avenger’s palace looked like, what he was like, and although you enjoyed feeling special enough to be at the centre of everyone’s attention, you were just as desperate to find out what Spider-Man was like. Two years ago, you hotly anticipated meeting him and that feeling has yet to be fulfilled. All you're left with is a craving that you suspect will never be satisfied. 

Mina doesn’t exactly have much on him, but she gives what she can. 

“He wasn’t much, honestly, and we didn’t have much either but we got by. It’s sure as shit better than being here. Our people loved him though, like…properly adored the guy and I could see why--” 

Helena steps in, a Captain America original. Her boisterous voice takes over the conversation with a devilish smile lacing her words. “Oh, I think we all know why.” 

“What? Why?” You ask.

“Are you kidding? Have you seen the guy? If his sculpture at the temple is anything to go by, he’s fucking gorgeous--”

“Was.” Mina rumbles.

“Yeah, alright, alright. Was gorgeous. But he was a god I’d happily sell my soul for. I’d climb him like a tree--” 

“Jesus, Helena. The guy’s dead. Give it a rest. Anyway, yeah he was stunning and I think -- I think he cared about us…it’s just that sometimes you couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or whether he was just up Iron Man’s ass and following his footsteps.” 

“Could you blame him if he was? I mean, he was just about to become one of the most powerful Avenger so maybe sucking up to him did the trick. That was Cap’s mistake. That rival they had decades ago fucked him and us over completely.” 

Mina whips around to face Helena with a hand glued to her sashayed hip, an eyebrow cocked high on her forehead. You suddenly feel like you’ve become a spectator in the conversation despite having initiated it. “We’re two Avengers down, two factions have been burnt to a crisp and no longer exist leaving millions unemployed and homeless, we’re stuck with Captain Ass, and the world is at the mercy of six of the most insane Avengers - so I wouldn’t exactly say what Spider-Man did ‘did the trick’. If anything, we’re more fucked.” 

“Yo, shut the fuck up! If you get caught saying that kind of stuff, you’ll be put against the post!” 

Mina rolls her eyes as a subtle ‘bite me’ leaves her lips and you do what it takes to suppress the giggle. The soft rustling of the polishing brushes fills the silence once again, scraping away the dirt and stone that clings to the infinity stones before preparing them for shipment straight to Captain America’s palace. The stone’s sheen hits your eyes, reflecting the overhead lamp as it spotlights its iridescent ruby red colour to reveal a potential within. What you would do if you had the strength to yield its power, what you would change about the world and how you would change it for the better, and in that moment of thought you look to your hands. They are red raw, blistered and torn apart with the roughness of it all. Further below you, your feet ache, pleading with you to give them a rest but the conveyor belt never stops moving, never stops bringing in more stones and there’s no time for a break. This has been your ‘everyday’ for the last two years, a lifetime for some and you’re not sure how much more of it you can take.

A laugh suddenly erupts from your throat, almost hysterical because realistically you know you don’t even have the strength to fight the exhaustion. It’s absolutely ridiculous that you have the audacity to think about changing the world. 

Well, if not you, then who?

Out of nowhere, your body convulses with a shiver as a tickling sensation feathers across your arm. Eyes snap to the miniscule spider tiptoeing across your skin. It was completely red, all but the small black dot on its hind. 

“Mina?” You blurt. “Did…did Spider-Man really die?” 

“Pretty sure. There’s no way he could’ve survived the attack. Like you said, the other Avengers would’ve done anything to stop him rising to complete supremacy, right?” 

A wistful sight seeps from your lips. “Um…yeah. Of course. You’re right.” The small, harmless spider continues to stumble across your skin and with the gentlest of touches, you scoop up the little creature, placing it gently on the floor under the machinery where it scuttles into the shadows. 

That’s probably the closest you’ll ever get to meeting Spider-Man, huh?

Chapter 2 coming 8th of July

[ptergwen]

Peter Parker x Avenger Reader/ the reader gets stabbed on a mission and hides it from everyone. But Peter is suspicious and try’s to check. Can it end with angst please?/ if you don’t feel like it then never mind, don’t worry!!! ❤️❤️❤️

you want it to END with angst? well shit this one is gonna hurt.. literally

warnings: mentions of blood and death

“nice job, gang,” tony announces after you all pile on to the jet. “no one’s injured, no one’s dying. most importantly, i have no paperwork to sign.” he pretends to wipe sweat off his forehead. he’s sitting next to steve, who’s in the pilot’s seat. you tense up in your own. “what did i say about teamwork?” steve flashes tony one of his oh so charming smiles. “it’s all we’ve got,” sam answers, biting back a smirk.

“i don’t know about the no injuries thing, mr. stark,” peter murmurs, making your heart beat faster than it already was. has he figured it out already? “what’s that, kid?” tony wonders. he looks at him over his shoulder. “think i got a few cuts back there,” peter replies with a sheepish smile. natasha lets out a sigh. “you’re so brave.” “thanks for sharing your story,” sam adds on.

forcing out a laugh, you scoot the tiniest bit away from peter. he’s still joking around with the team. you’re trying to get out of his embrace, which is a first. his arm is wrapped tightly around your shoulders. too tightly because he’s pressing into your stab wound. it is keeping you from bleeding out, though.

you were the only one to actually get injured during the mission, but you didn’t say anything. you’d be ruining the otherwise successful night, which the team doesn’t get many of. the last person you want to find out is peter. it’s a hard secret not to share when your blood is literally on his hands.

“y/n, you’ve been awfully quiet. cat got your tongue?” tony observes with an eyebrow quirked. “thank god. let it stay that way.” bucky shoots you a wink. sam elbows his side. now that peter thinks about it, you haven’t said a word since the jet took off. “yeah, that’s a little... odd. you okay, baby?” he quietly asks, pulling you back into his side. “i... i’m just...” you wince when he squeezes you.

“i don’t have anything to say, i guess.” you’re giving peter a pained smile. “what’d i say about excuses?” steve chimes in, a knowing tone to his voice. “don’t make them,” natasha finishes for him. “what’s really bothering you, y/n?” “we’re here to listen, whatever it is.” steve glances over at you before putting his eyes back on the sky. “no, really! it’s nothing,” you insist, peter rubbing up and down your arm.

you can feel the blood starting to soak through your suit. he’ll be feeling it any second, too.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom. tell me what i miss,” you say to everyone. you’re quick getting to your feet. “i’ll go with you,” peter instantly decides. “you can’t!” you put a hand on his chest, effectively holding him back. “it’s... period stuff. that’s what’s bothering me, guys.” “there it is,” sam chuckles. “i can see that,” bucky agrees. natasha rolls her eyes at both of them.

“you know i don’t care about any of that,” peter scoffs and laces your fingers together. “can’t scare me off so easy.” if you weren’t lying and bleeding in other places, that would have been sweet. “it’s fine, pete. just stay here, okay?” you bite your lip as a wave of pain shoots through you. tony takes note of that. “ok. call me if you need anything?” peter raises both eyebrows for emphasis. “i will. alright, um... bye.”

with that, you scurry off to the bathroom. you stumble on the way there and grab on to your shoulder. that doesn’t go unnoticed by the team.

“i don’t think she’s fine,” bucky concludes after a minute. natasha laughs in disbelief. “of course she’s not! her uterus is-“ “not that!” he squeezes his eyes shut at the image she almost painted. “he’s right, kid was acting pretty weird. weirder than usual.” sam shares a look with tony. “go check on her, parker,” tony gently requests, steve frowning. peter exhales a breath he’s been holding. “yeah, i’m on it.”

you free your right arm from your suit as soon as you get to the bathroom. it’s where the wound is, and it’s really bad. blood is dripping down from your shoulder to your arm, sticking to the rest of the suit. it gets in fly away pieces of hair when you look for the source. your eyes flood with tears, lip once again between your teeth. your heart is beating so fast that if you don’t die from this, it’ll be from cardiac arrest.

you’re attempting to clean up your wound with water and toilet paper, muffled whimpers escaping you. you have no idea what you’re supposed to do, but it’s definitely not this. it stings so bad every time you touch it. silent tears fall down your face while you continue taking care of yourself the best you can.

a sudden knock at the door makes you jump. “y/n?” peter speaks sternly, like he knows what’s going on in there. he doesn’t. he’s just worried about you. “y/n, it’s me. can i come in?” “what? no!” you yell, still holding the crumbling toilet paper to your wound. “i need... i- i really need some privacy. please.” your voice becomes a sob at the end. peter only grows more concerned.

“baby, what’s wrong? it’s gotta be more than your-“ a loud thud coming from the bathroom cuts him off. “what was that?” he’s already reaching for the doorknob. “nothing. i...” you don’t even try to lie this time. you can’t. “i’m coming in.” peter warns you, throwing the door open without another protest. his whole world collapses at what he sees.

curled up in a ball on the floor is you, with your suit half off and blood everywhere. you’re shivering, crying, desperately clutching at your shoulder. you were just sitting right next to him, in his arms. how could he not have realized?

“oh my god,” peter breathes, getting on to his knees in front of you. “when- when did you... what happened? how long have you been-“ he can barely form one sentence. he’s in so much shock, and so fucking scared. “during the mission,” you respond in a sniffle. “someone had a- a knife or something. they stabbed me.”

peter presses both his hands to your open wound, frantically searching for your eyes. “fuck...” his voice cracks. “why didn’t you tell me, y/n?” he’s whispering, moving closer to you, face inches from yours. “because you...” before you can finish, your eyes start rolling back. “no, no, no!” peter takes one hand off your shoulder and brings it to your chin.

“stay with me, y/n. you can’t... you can’t go yet. don’t do this,” he cries out, his own face now coated in tears. his fingers grabbing at your chin force you to look at him. “it hurts so bad, peter,” you whimper. your eyes are void of color when they finally meet his. “i know, baby. i know.” peter blinks hard, his hand moving to cup your cheek.

“i didn’t want you to worry,” you start, peter caressing your skin softly. he has to bite down on his tongue to keep from screaming. “or add to the list of people you lost. seems like i’m doing it right now, though.” a sad smile crosses your features. “no... don’t say that.” he furiously shakes his head, thumb smoothing over your cheek.

“you’re gonna be fine, y/n. i’ll get mr. stark, and- and he’ll know what to do,” peter tries to convince you both. you’re not buying it. “what if it’s too late?” you croak. “it’s not. we’re gonna be okay, okay?” he leans down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering for a few seconds. “i’ll get him now. be right back, y/n/n.”

peter’s hands leave you slowly. he replaces his one on your shoulder with your own. “you’re not going anywhere,” he assures you once more, you giving him a stiff nod. he’s rushing back to inform the team of your condition just like that. your eyes fight to stay open again. you let them close, the pain too much to handle.

“i’ll always be with you.”

[blackshinychevy]

Let Me Go

Summary: Dean has to make a heartbreaking decision that effects both of you.

WC: 1.6k+

Warnings: Angst, Character Death

Pairing: Dean x Reader

It’s late when Sam gets back to the bunker. There’s a huge thunderstorm outside that has most of the roads flooded and blocked off. He’s barely made it back with the take out he’d gone to get for he and his older brother, but the question of whether or not Dean will actually eat it is another matter.

Sam’s starting to become extremely worried about his older sibling. Dean’s always been a strong lover of food, the greasier the better. But Sam has noticed the drop in his brother’s appetite, as well as the newly made hole in his belt now that his jeans are becoming too loose around his waist.

As he walks into the kitchen, he sees Dean sat at the kitchen table, nursing a beer that has probably long since become warm. But Sam doesn’t miss the other five empty bottles beside him, as well as an empty whiskey tumbler.

“Hey.” He greets, dropping the plastic bag of food in front of him. “Got you a double bacon cheeseburger with extra onions and a side of fries.” Sam smiles in encouragement as he piles Dean’s favorites onto the table. “And...” Sam pulls out the last treat with a grin. “...cherry pie. Best around for miles apparently.” Sam’s smile wilts when Dean doesn’t even show he’s heard him. He merely continues rolling the beer bottle back and forth between his hands. “Where’s y/n?” The younger Winchester asks, glancing around the kitchen.

“In our room.” Dean states gruffly.

Sam knows at this point he needs to tread very carefully. One wrong word and Dean could snap again like he did the other night. It had taken Sam hours to put the library back to rights after his brother had torn through it like a hurricane during a drunken rage.

“Dean.” He sighs softly. “Don’t you think it’s time now? You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Dean drops the bottle down with a clunk, raising himself to his feet and marching towards the door. “I’m going to bed.” He states, not even glancing at his brother as he leaves the kitchen.

Sam throws the takeout box onto the table in defeat. He’d tried. But he knows he can do no more than what he’s already doing. The next step has to be entirely up to Dean.

****

Dean stumbles into your shared bedroom, shutting the door with a little more force than was probably necessary and groaning at the headache that was forming behind his eyes. “Hey, baby.” He grins at the sight of you perched on the edge of the bed, a small smile on your face as watch him.

“Hey.” You greet him back, brow quirking as he makes his way over to you with a sway in his step. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Not enough.” He groans, towing off his boots and throwing himself face first on to the bed, eyes drooping closed almost immediately.

You sigh sadly at his pain. Dean’s never been good at dealing with his emotions, choosing to bottle everything up until it all reaches a boiling point. The other night was proof of that. You’d heard his drunken yelling as things smashed against the walls, as well as Sam’s voice, pleading for his brother to calm down.

“Dean.” You call softly, leaning over his body, lips almost brushing his ear. “Dean, we need to talk.”

“Later.” He grumbles. “Need some sleep.”

Your heart breaks even more. Unlike Dean, you don’t have the option of bottling everything inside. The both of you need to talk desperately. Because you can’t continue the way you’re going. It’s not fair to him and it’s not fair to you.

“Dean. This has to stop.” Your voice cracks at the end. This is going to be the hardest thing either of you has had to do. But it’s time. “You need to let me go.”

His eyes snap open and his body jerks off the bed to sit himself up right, and he looks at you with an expression that can only be compared to terror. “No!” He roars. “How can you say that?! Ask me anything, baby. I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t ask me to do that. Please.” Tears brim in the corners of his eyes and you hear the quiver in his voice. Your heart shatters in your chest as you keep your eyes on his.

“You have to.” You press. “This isn’t healthy, baby. You need to let me go. I don’t belong here anymore. We both know that.” A tear trickles down your cheek. “It’s not your fault what happened. You can’t keep punishing yourself over it.” You smile.

He sniffs, wiping roughly under his eyes to rid his cheeks of the tears. “Why’d ya do it? Shoulda been me.” He bares his teeth in anger.

It was supposed to be a simple hunt. A werewolf been terrorizing a small town and when the three of you had tried to take it down, things had gone horribly wrong. The werewolf it turned out, had a partner, and after it tried to strike Dean from behind, you’d jumped in between the two of them to save the man you loved. The next time you left the barn, Dean was carrying your cold and bloodied body in his arms. That was three months ago, and here you are still. Trapped in the veil, unable to move on due to Dean’s grief and guilt. The brothers had burned your bones on a hunters pyre, and despite not tying yourself to anything on earth, your spirit still lingered. Dean’s soul had latched tightly on to yours, desperate to keep you with him and unable to let go.

“I jumped between you and that werewolf, because you’re the only man I’ve ever been in love with. Only one for me. I could have the chance to do that day a hundred times over. And I’d still jump in front of you.” You sigh sadly. If only you’d known about the second wolf. Maybe you’d still be there with him. Able to hold his hand and kiss him awake every morning. Feel his warm skin on yours as he made love to you under the stars in the back of the impala. Maybe you’d have grown old together, had a couple of kids and gotten married. But that was never going to happen now. His heart was still beating. And your’s had stopped.

“How do I do this with you?” He whispers, eyes red as fresh tears fall. “I don’t know how to...”

You raise your hand, brushing it along his cheek, desperately wishing you could feel the heat of it against your palm. He leans into you, feeling nothing but cold air instead of warm flesh. “You’ve got Sammy.” You soothe. “He needs you too. More than I do. And you did just fine before you met me.”

“But I need you.” He whispers. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too. So much. And I’ll be waiting for you. But you need to move on from me, Dean.” He looks horrified at your suggestion, and you offer another smile of comfort. “You need to go on living. Find another girl, fall in love again. Have children with her. Marry her if she makes you happy. And one day, if I’m still what you want, I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”

Dean’s head falls forward as he sobs into his hands. He tries desperately to catch his breath, feeling his heart splintering behind his ribs. If they could, tears would pour from your own eyes at the sight of him so distraught.

“I don’t want to let you go.” There’s an almost pleading tone to his voice, begging you to stay.

“We know what happens to ghosts that stay too long.” You say sadly. “Please don’t make me become like that.”

Dean runs a rough hand through his hair. It’s getting longer. Another thing he’s neglected since loosing you.

“I have to don’t I? I have to let you go.” He cries silently.

“Yeah, baby. You do.” You nod. You place your hand on his knee, and Dean stares at it wistfully. His eyes close as his mind flashes back to when you’d do the same thing from the passengers seat. Laughing over at him as he sang along to Metallica and you’d both head bang to Motörhead.

He remembers the first time he’d met you on a vamp case just outside of St. Louis. They’d needed backup and Garth had sent you their way with a quick phone call. Dean would never deny how he’d fallen head over heels the first time he’d seen you. Covered in vampire blood and swinging a machete like it was your own limb. He recalls the first time you’d said you’d loved each other. It had been in the middle of a heated argument after you’d been injured on a ghoul case. You’d walked away with a sprained wrist but Dean had acted like you’d lost your entire arm. He’d tried benching you and after you’d promptly punched him in the jaw for being such a Neanderthal, he’d blurted out that he refused to let the only woman he’d ever really loved kill her self out of stupidity. He’d made love to you for the first time that night. The best night of his life. He knows he’ll never love anyone the way he loved you, but if that’s what you want for him, he’ll do it. He’ll honor your memory and keep on living. He’ll do it for you.

Dean lets out a long sigh as he opens his eyes. He turns his head to look over at you and he feels his heart disintegrate in his chest. You’re gone...

*****

There you go guys! Another oneshot! I hope you enjoyed it and stay safe and stay tuned for more. More updates this week. Xx

[germvity]

RISES THE MOON

leon s kennedy x reader // 5 // blue blood

the officer sighs, keeping you close as he slowly starts to settle himself. eventually, leon falls asleep himself, rolling over with you so you were between him and the wall of the shack. you mumble incoherently at the movement, eyelids fluttering as you stir. yet, leon's deep breathing and soothing heartbeat makes you fall asleep once more.

genre: angst with fluff

tags: nemesis 👺, he's stinky, david being a bully 2.0, leon being a sweetheart, he cares, jill being a good friend <3, might rewrite this chapter maybe bc i just know im gonna skip a few paragraphs to get this out a bit earlier :(

warnings: bullying, hitting/beatings, crying, confession swerves, mild heartbreak bc i hate myself </3

tag list <3

@trinswhimsys , @hex-touchstarved (ily mutual <3)

---

you woke up with a harsh headache and no recollection of what happened the night before, tears stinging your eyes as you crouch down to work on the dirty generator in front of you. the wires singed your fingertips, and you hiss, pulling away right as the generator let out a skull splitting bang. your head ached as your heartbeat picked up, and you darted from the machine and into the gas station with nemesis now hot on your tail. "fuck.." you whine, just your luck that he would be on you first. you throw down a pallet with urgency, gasping as his tentacle slashes a deep infection into you. you splutter, blue blood oozing down your body as you cough into your arm. vaulting the window was easy, but unfortunately the killer's appendage is much longer than you thought as it whips your back, leaving behind a nasty gash.

fortunately, a pallet was nestled between two cars and you ran for it, managing to stun the greedy monster before scrambling to safety. "fuck.." you whine, coughing up some blue sludge as you quickly hide in your surroundings. the nemesis walks past you angrily, storming away and leaving you for a moments peace. you spot a white box's aura nearby, and it beckoned you over the the feeling of safety. you round the corner and see it sat there, and crouch down to snap the flimsy lock. you raise the vial carefully out of the foam in the case, sighing in relief before a rough hand snatches the scruff of your shirt. you yelp in surprise as david throws you to the ground, the vaccine rolls away from you and you reach for it. "you fucker! i never lose a fight!" david roars, kicking your stomach firmly. you cry out in pain, curling up into a tight ball to try and avoid david hitting any vulnerable spots. "i hate you! i hate you so much..!" the fighter continues, but now crouches down to pull you from your protective position. he punches you roughly and you wail in pain as blood bursts from your nose.

"leon!" you scream, hoping he was in this trial to help you. "leon! help me!" you cry out again, and david's cruel laughter finds your ears. "that pretty boy isn't here." he grins, giving you another punch before a pair of hands grab him. "what the-?!" the zombie cuts him off, teeth piercing david's neck as he screams in agony. the fighter scrambles away, and the zombie ignores you to follow him. "hello? i heard screaming." a new voice intrudes, and jill peaks around the corner. "jesus- what happened?" she rushes over to you as you reach for her weakly. "david... he's so mean." you cry, letting her pull you close as she hugs you tightly. "come on, let's get you somewhere safe." she offers a sad smile, pulling you up carefully.

jill patches you up firmly and cured you, she let you follow her around for the trial, pointing out totems and chests for you to work on whilst she pumped out gens. ash gave your hair an affectionate ruffle in passing, but he was always more of a lone wolf, so he left quickly to distract nemesis. the rest of the trial went bad quickly. david was mori'd, ash died on hook and jill was gravely injured as well as dead on hook by the time the last generator was powered up.

with noed rampant in the end, and the gates blocked by the entity, you and jill stayed hidden behind a pile of crushed cars as the nemesis patrolled the gates carefully. "fuck... what are we gonna do?" you whimper, looking at jill. "i have an idea. i saw hatch earlier, we can find a key." jill gives you a smile, "but all the chests are open?" you remind her, and she shrugs. "no matter, elodie taught me how to look thoroughly." she pulls you along, and you have no choice but to follow. the chest you two found had a broken key in it, and jill tossed it away to start rummaging. "aha!" she beams, tossing a skeleton key into the air and catching it as she offers you her other hand. "c'mon, let's get out of here." she says, and you take her hand.

the two of you run past the undead, past nemesis who caught wind of your scratch marks and started following, stopping at the hatch. jill leans down, unlocking the door quickly as you turn to see nemesis approaching way too quick for your liking. "c'mon, move it!" she yells, pushing you down into the void and jumping in after you. the trap door slams shut, cutting off any light as the two of you fall into the thick smoke.

you regenerate abruptly, catching yourself but still falling when jill is thrown onto you. she wraps her arms around her waist and steadies the two of you quickly, mumbling an apology as she lets go of you. "it's okay.." you reply, letting her lead you to your shack. "leon's probably waiting, c'mon." jill yawns, spotting the blonde who was indeed waiting at your door. his eyes scan the tree line, searching for you. "leon!" you call, and his eyes brighten at the sight of you and jill. "y/n! are you okay?" he runs over to meet you half way, letting you hug him tightly. "be careful, they've had a rough trial." jill says sternly, and leon nods. "thanks for looking after them, jill." he smiles, and jill nods before walking away.

"come on then, let's get you rested." leon says, but freezes when he sees the bruises on your face, "oh, what happened?" he cups your face carefully, analysing you for any signs of a concussion. "david got me... he's really mad." you sigh, melting into his touch. "that fucker... he'll get what's coming to him." leon growls, pulling you into a tight and safe hug. "can we go inside?" you ask quietly, and he nods. "of course, c'mon."

you feel safe with leon, and relax more as you enter your practically shared home. leon turns away as he lets you get changed into some more comfy and cleaner clothes, taking off his bullet proof vest and putting it in its usual spot against the wall. you flop down on your bed with a huff, the blanket feels so welcoming as leon sits next to you. you rest your head on his thigh, letting him gently stroke your cheek as you close your eyes. "you feel any better?" he asks softly, and you nod. "good. just relax, yeah?" leon smiles, leaning back against your wall as he gets comfy.

you move from his lap and smile at him. "lay down with me?" you ask, and leon chuckles. "sure." he says, joining you and letting you cuddle into him. "leon?" you mumble softly, resting your head on his chest. "yeah?" he responds immediately, rubbing your back. "thank you for doing this for me... i don't deserve you." you smile sadly and leon huffs. "don't say that. you deserve the world." the blonde says firmly, moving so you would look at him. "i like you a lot, y/n." he admits yet you just smile. "i like you too." you reply, and leon's heart tightens as he realises you're unaware of his meaning. "i like you, so much more than i should.." he whispers and you process his words.

"wait... like that or am i reading into this too much..?" you ask sheepishly and leon nods, "like that." he confirms and you look away to think. "y/n..?" he whispers, desperate for any response. "i'm sorry... i can't... i don't wanna lose you or get hurt." you reply, voice also just above a whisper. "that's fine." leon smiles to hide the pain he felt. "i'm sorry..." you say again, holding him close. "it's alright, i don't mind." leon lies, his heart burning with sorrow. "just get some sleep, y/n." he says, holding you as if you would melt away if you let go.

"are you okay?" you ask softly, hands rubbing his back. "yeah, i'm completely fine." leon replies, ignoring the strain in his voice. "no you're not... i'm so sorry..." you whisper, feeling your own tears starting to well up. "don't cry, it's fine." leon smiles, wiping your face for you. "i'm so sorry, leon.. i just don't want to get hurt." you say, nestling your head into his neck. "i know, i know.. let's change the subject now until you fall asleep." he sighs.

soon enough the two of you are talking again, and leon almost forgets the rejection until you doze off. "as long as you're okay..." he whispers to himself as he brushes fallen hair from your face. "i couldn't care less about my own feelings." he smiles, tears stinging his eyes as he pulls you into his chest.

[herstarburststories]

Brutal (Dean Winchester x Reader)

✾ A/N: More Dean x reader content, but angst this time! Reposting because I had to edit a few things. Gif's credits on it.  Based on the song ‘from the dining table’.

✾ Summary: Unlike her boyfriend, Dean Winchester, the reader wasn’t raised as a hunter. At first, it seems like a hard but worth it job. Unfortunately, you didn't have in mind how brutal all of it could get.

✾ Words: 3k.

"YOU ARE NOT YOURSELF ANYMORE, DEAN!"

The discussion over a delicate subject at the dining table was blossoming into something bigger. (Y/N) was on her feet, shouting at her boyfriend with a shaking voice; a manner that was very uncommon. You were used to Dean being stubborn, and you were not behind him in this aspect which caused a few disagreements here and there. That certain argument, though, was definitive in every meaning of the word.

"I HAVE ALWAYS MADE IT FUCKING CLEAR WHAT THIS LIFE WAS, (Y/N)!" Dean snapped back, anger dripping from his words like venom. He was hurt. How could you say that he was becoming a cold-hearted person? You, of all people. "IF I DON'T KILL IT, IT KILLS ME! THIS ISN'T AN APPLE PIE LIFE, AND YOU KNEW IT WHEN YOU DECIDED TO STAY HERE!"

"I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT VAMPIRES OR POLTERGEISTS OR WENDIGOS, DEAN! FUCK!" Your usual efficiency with words was starting to tangle with desperation. Dean didn't even see the problem, for God's shake. How could you keep this up? "I'M TALKING ABOUT THE PEOPLE! I SAW YOU KILL FIVE POSSESSED PEOPLE TODAY!"

"DEMONS!" He groaned and slapped the table. You jumped in surprise, making him regret getting out of control and coaxing a softer, calmer tone from his mouth. "I killed demons, not people."

"The demons were possessing them, and you killed them off without any regret. You didn't even take a minute to consider other options."

"What other options?" he questioned, obviously upset. What the hell were you doing? Becoming the devil's advocate all of sudden?

"Using the demon-killing knife to stab a non-vital part of their bodies? Maybe an exorcism?"

"None of those options would end the problem permanently. Do you have any idea how many sons of a bitch came back from hell to get Sam and me? It's them or us, (Y/N). And I will always choose us." Dean was aware that you weren't raised in this life like him and Sam, but this conversation was becoming frustrating and confusing. You were training to be like them. You went to hunts with them. You... You supported him. At least, you did last time he checked. "The human is long gone when they get possessed. Dying is the best thing that could happen to them after that."

You were supposed to be an easy case that turned out to be more complicated than previously expected, what meant both of them staying a little longer in the city, you catching feelings for Dean and vice-versa. After all you had seen, you knew that normal life was a long lost memory that you didn't wish to visit, leave alone live in. Hauntings, traveling across the country, having no banal responsibilities-- that seemed like the kind of dangerous fun you had been looking for your whole life. Then, you came with them. Killing things had never bothered you-- they weren't actually alive, for starts. Until you saw how cold Dean looked when he killed off possessed people-- the humans that were still in there somehow. And he kept doing it as if it were the only option. Of course, this job and violence walked side by side, but not unnecessary lethal choices. Dean certainly shared his portion of brutality, which wasn't tiny, but you would never picture your boyfriend as uncaring. Not until you watched five bodies piled up together, burning. What about the chance that those people should have gotten?

"Are you even listening to yourself, Dean? What if Sam had thought like that when you became a demon!?" Apprehensive, you tried to make him understand what was wrong.

Dean clenched his jaw before his answer came out, "Those are two different things, (Y/N). You know that."

"I..." You flinched, taking a deep breath and letting it out. You shut your eyes before opening them with a determinate glare, locking your gaze with his green one. "I can't. I said I would stand by you through anything, but I can't let this slide. Not like this."

"Because I killed a few demons?" The older Winchester grinned wryly. He was furious, scared by the possibility of you leaving him, and injured by your words. What else could a wounded animal do besides attacking? "I survived, (Y/N). I've killed many others, and I'm not fucking sorry for it. They had it coming. You knew that was my life, and you chose it. What are you going to do now? Play the coward? It's a dirty, fucked up job, but someone has to do it, and you knew that."

Offering a sad smile, you walked towards him and lifted your hand to claim his cheek only for him to pull away from you. Your heart ached, but you needed to do that. Stick to your morals and beliefs.

"I love you." And you did, you truly did. Unfortunately, blood was as normal as water in his mouth, and you couldn't help but remain nauseous after what you tasted. "But there is a better way. Maybe not perfect, but another decision. And if you can't see that, if you can't see why I find it wrong to just rush around with the knife in every situation--" Your voice almost broke. "Goodbye, Dean."

You turned around, passing away from the man you loved before another speech stopped you.

"I bet you regret leaving your home to run away with me now."

You didn't take two seconds to reply, and you desired that he could understand how hard it was for you too. "I would never regret you."

No ray of sunshine licked Dean's face to wake him up. Fortunately for the Winchesters' disorganized sleeping routine, the bunker prevented the sun from invading the window-- a perk of living almost under the land in a bunker.

Instead of a normal reason to emerge from his rest, Dean's eyes fluttered open from an annoying migraine. Perhaps he went a little too hard on the alcohol yesterday, but that was the last thing that mattered. Besides, even if it was an abnormal sensation, he wouldn't trade it for sake of 'drinking like a normal human being', as (Y/N) had teased him so many times before.

(Y/N).

It took two seconds after recovering consciousness to think about you.

“Where are you?” he said in a whisper, playing with himself to the silent walls. Dean laughed with his own brand of self-deprecation-- a learned cruelty to dilute the tug of his emotions before the eldest Winchester had to get up. He knew exactly where you resided and why you were there. He decided against feeding his masochism for once, not glancing at your side of the bed.

To face the light fixtures above him only made his current situation more depressing, just like the hints of paint that (Y/N) had once thrown there. Dean Winchester knew pain like no other; hell, purgatory, an emptied childhood, watching his mother seal a deal with a demon, living with the fact his father had gone to hell to save him, being right in front of Sammy when he died, all the bloody deaths he’d lived through again and again-- the list would go on. He could probably drown in an ocean of his deceased loved ones’ blood and swim there for hours until he reached its edge.

Most of the time, the life of a hunter was synonymous with tragedy.

Therefore, Dean was very experienced when it came to suffering. He even shared a last name with a rifle, for God’s sake. Destruction was stained in his bones. This time, it was a different kind of torment.

His heart had been broken before, sure. He wasn’t in his early twenties, neither was he a saint. Dean was aware that a break in relationships could be devastating.

But again, this time, it was different. (Y/N) had not only broke his heart. You ripped it out and threw it in the trash as you walked out the door without looking back. His trust was in your pockets, and the beliefs clinging to the divine sensation of your touch that left with you.

Dean Winchester was hopeless. Deciding not to mourn for a bit, he closed his eyes from the melancholy. It wasn't a hard job to fall asleep once more. People in his job were always heavy-eyed.

Forty minutes passed by the clock until the Winchester roused again. This moment felt missing without you snuggling up to him or kissing his neck between foolish giggles or even pushing him out of bed when you felt like playing the prankster.

There was no valid reason to remain where he was, glaring at a stupid ceiling that held nothing but an old light you installed together and memories. The yellow and blue paints still held firm where you’d spattered them, jumping in the bed together with your hands drenched in the colors from a gouache paint container just because you’d found the tins somewhere in the bunker. You and Dean became a tangled mess of greens, dirty with paint and kissing. How many sexual encounters happened here, he thought, glaring at this ceiling that looked like three-year-old Sammy’s art project.

The green-eyed man never thought he would feel nostalgic about a stupid ceiling. He had to get out of that room.

Finally raising from the mattress, Dean yawned as he padded towards the kitchen. He didn't mind checking what time it was, knowing he needed an alcoholic getaway. The Winchester sat down, sharing a bottle of Whiskey with his shadow. How distracting it was to make his throat burn when an unpleasant thought attempted to take control of his head.

If he had dared to look through the room, Dean would have noticed the clock's arrow pointing at 10:50 am.

By noon he was already drunk, which took a lot of effort since his tolerance to drinks was a bar high set. Dean groaned, displeased. The buzzy feeling of befuddlement hitting him certainly helped, but he could still affirm that he had never felt less cool. His body was starving for something that wasn't there anymore. Dean's feelings were all over the place, and he didn't have the energy to pick them up at this point.

"I can't believe you are drinking already." Sam sighed, making himself known by Dean in the kitchen. In response, all he got was his brother holding the glass up and drinking all of its bronze liquid. "It's barely noon, Dean. You-- Wait. Are you drunk?"

"Don't start, Sam." He groaned, holding his own cheeks with fingers as his hands slid down to his chin. The gesture was a habit of Dean's when he was fed up with something.

The younger one offered him an indignant glare, which was soon replaced by empathy and sorrow as he watched Dean. His brother was broken. (Y/N) running away from them had really taken him down. Part of Sam was hurt as well-- after all, you were his friend and confidant. But, in all ruthless honesty, he couldn't speak out and point fingers at you on that. Not about the whole situation, at all.

Yet, if Sam was feeling abandoned by his friend, he could only imagine what Dean would be experiencing. You had been a hint of happiness in the middle of misery and combat for Dean. It had been so long since Sammy saw his brother like that, so very long. Suddenly, it disappeared like smoke. And the worst part was that he understood your side. Deep down, the long-haired man knew Dean did, too.

Trying to knock sense back into his brother, or at least a bit of normality, Sam spoke, "You can go out and buy some whiskey. Your bottle was the last one."

"Yeah, right." His voice was impassive, almost serious for such casual conversation. He got up, going to the table to grab Baby's keys.

"Hey, Dean..." Dean turned around to face his brother. Sam’s expression was cautious, voice soft when he continued: "If you want to talk about it, I'm here. It could help."

"I'm pretty sure you heard the screaming yesterday, Sam," Dean replied dryly, an unsettlingly wry smile surfacing. His walls were up. It was an old defense mechanism. "There is nothing to talk about. She left. The sooner we can accept it, the sooner we can move on."

"Move on? You want to move on?" he questioned suspiciously, eyebrows arching to match his inquiry.

Dean didn't answer. He only picked up the keys.

"Dean--"

"Yeah, I think we are out of eggs, too," Dean interrupted. He didn't need to talk about it. Not now. "Whiskey and eggs, got it."

Any other remarks from Sam were ignored as he walked through the door, trotting in direction of his beloved Impala. An old song on one of his cassettes was the soundtrack to his five-minute ride to the nearest store.

Dean went searching for eggs and whiskey, adding a lemon pie that smelled better than himself-- not that it was difficult considering he hadn’t showered since yesterday. The store’s cashier swiped his credit card and offered a polite farewell that was replied with a nod. Everything seemed so normal in the most boring ways.

In the parking lot, a familiar face appeared for the first time in a year. It was Thomas-- a hunter that Dean, you, and Sam had come across during a job in New Mexico.

"Winchester!" The blue-eyed man smiled, making the scar near his lips more evident. Being thrown out of a window left marks sometimes. "It's been too long, dude."

"Cavill." His lips curved into a small smile as he greeted his friend. Laying his green eyes on him, Dean couldn't avoid noticing a familiar shirt. Fuck, he must be hallucinating or thinking too hard about foolish subjects. "Where have you been?"

"Burning bones, decapitating vamps. Same old, same old." Thomas waved his hand, banalizing the supernatural routine as if it were nothing but another Sunday. For them, this was true. "I saw (Y/N) yesterday. She seemed fine. Separate hunts to take different cases?"

His blood burned through an emotional fever in realization. It felt like the boil was intense enough to melt his bones if he remained in front of the other men for too long. Thomas had never been subtle about finding you attractive, and neither was his constant flirting when your cases collided. It didn't help that you and Dean weren't together back then, even though the tension was obvious for anyone. The Winchester gripped his grocery plastic bag harder, offering him a sarcastic smirk.

"Something like that." He reached the car door and pulled out his keys. The familiar red flannel, your meeting with him-- it was so obvious it was basically written all over his face, and sadly, Dean could read it well. Fuck, he wanted to drop his purchases and punch that smile off Thomas’ face. That man probably had more of what was once his. “Gotta go. See you around.”

Sliding in the car to leave this conversation before his treacherous mind could reach more detestable conclusions, Cavill answered, "If you need help, give me a call.''

Dean mumbled something but didn't care enough to give him anything beyond a nod while the Impala finally drove away from Thomas.

At that moment, he wished a bit harder that Ellen was still alive or that another bar like hers existed. The hunters’ bar was full of people who understood that death was a part of the job. Somewhere he could swallow barrels of alcohol, play darts and tell bloody stories about his world-- about the quintessential things he did to get despair out of his system to the point that he felt comfortable on his own skin again.

So, that was it? You didn't just leave him and Sam, but you also accused him with all certainty you had of being a cold killer, and then you slept with the first man who showed up? Who was also a fucking hunter? Why the fuck didn't you tell him how you felt sooner? He wasn't an angel-- he would be even more of an arrogant asshole than he already was if that was the case, but you knew it all along. He didn't deserve anything good in his life. He should've seen it coming.

Dean pursed his lips, deciding for another ride to a normal bar. Home and all the beautiful, tragic ghosts inside could haunt him later.

It didn't take him long to park near an establishment. For once, he noticed the strong grip he held on the steering wheel, knuckles strained whiter than usual. He let out a tired sigh, glaring at the entrance of the place before grabbing his phone.

No calls from you. No text messages from you. Just the feeling of being a thirteen-year-old boy again, just like when he was waiting for Mary to send him a sign that she was all right.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Dean put it back in his pocket and made his way to the bar. No 'welcome' board light was shining yet, and he doubts anyone but he and the owner would be there. Once he got in, two guys were sitting in a table far away, and a girl was entering the bathroom. The bartender stood behind the bar, watching some game on the small television the place provided.

"Whiskey. No ice." His words came out harsher than he expected. The guy didn't seem to notice or care, simply nodding his head and turning around go get his client's order. One more time, Dean took his phone and stared at it. There was nothing but a text from Sammy that he quickly replied to, frowning in disappointment. It was rare for you to be the first one to break after a fight, but that was more than a stupid argument. You had left. You had fucking left. And he was the only one to blame.

Such a miserable routine kept its course. Dean would drink, check his phone, and hurt himself with his own thoughts. The night came with lurking shadows, and he couldn't care less. It seemed like the ghosts had replaced the bunker for his company. He didn't want to believe you would come back because hoping and being destroyed again was too much to bear with right now. Dean couldn't even breathe properly at the thought that he would never, ever see touch you, tease you, or be with you again. You had him wrapped around your finger since the very first day until you cut your hand off and left him. You left. How could you have left? But then, how could you had stayed if you had it all in your mind before?

Someone sat beside him. Still, it didn't catch the Winchester's attention until he heard her voice. For a flash of a second, he thought it was you. Dean looked up instantly, only to find himself incredulous.

The woman in front of him looked so much like you. She could easily be mistaken for your sister. Hair, eyes, voice. Everything but the lips were so similar. The unknown girl kept her gaze on Dean despite his strange reaction to her. Repeating her former words, she asked, "What are you drinking? Seems good."

Yeah, she wasn't (Y/N). You could tell what he was drinking from miles away, just because you knew exactly what he enjoyed. In addition, you’d seen his preferences so much that you’d memorized it all without even trying.

She looked like you, though. A lot. The earlier jealousy mixed with a dangerous quantity of alcohol and anguish made his decision. Move on, just like he told Sam. You didn't call him. You weren't coming back. That was your choice. He had to shut up the little hopes in his mind.

Putting up his best sultry smirk, Dean pushed the glass on the table towards her as he answered: "You tell me."

Two hours later, he was tilting his head to the side, watching the woman in his sheets peacefully taking a nap after a long run. Her hand covered most of her face, pillow carpeted with her messy hair.

"Wake up, (Y--)" Dean restrained himself from finishing that sentence. He almost said your name. It was hard enough to keep the woman's name, which he had forgotten by now, on his tongue during sex-- he wasn't going to give in at the end of it. Clearing his throat, the hunter started waking her up again. He needed to go.

In any other point of his life, he would've considered that night a success. A hot girl was sleeping beside him after he had a great amount of old whiskey. Sammy sent a text about a new case, and he had pie waiting for him in the car. At any other moment, that would be enough to put him in a good mood all day. In any other age, that would be considered a good day. No one died, he had sex and food and was about to hunt a thing and blow whatever it was up.

But you hadn't called.

It was probably a good thing in a messed up way. It was tranquil. There was no arguing, no fighting, no hurting from either side. That kind of hurt was quite similar to being comfortable, in a tremendously distorted way that he didn't wish to feel, like not putting medicine on the wound and just allowing it to heal by itself-- yet, occasionally scratching it. The idea of a comfortable silence was so overrated. Dean would rather be screamed at by (Y/N) by now than whatever this option was.

The woman woke up and left a note with her phone as she abandoned the room. Crumbling the paper, he threw it away and touched his face. A deep breath was taken.

He had work to do.

Maybe one day you'll call me

and tell me that you’re sorry too 

But you never do

[georgemackayhey]

Worth Fighting For (Part: Two)

summary: You’re entirely certain George is the one. So he hasn’t got to put up much of a fight… but in a way, that’s all he knows to do.

a/n: Now is a good time to mention that I know nothing about boxing. My only refreance is a movie about mma and one nights worth of basic research. But all that matters is I'm having buckets of fun writing this! The angst starts to creep in this chapter. Let me know what yall think!

w/c: 4k

Part 1

───※ ·❆· ※───

It was the end of an exceptionally long weekend. You'd managed to throw together last minute choreography for the kids school play, taught a wedding party how to waltz, and helped a friend nail her audition for a foreign dance company.

It was easy as ever, with a broken hand. But everything else was increasingly difficult. You were still getting used to using your one, lame hand to do laundry and cook dinner. But at least you could still dance.

There was nothing better than pumping the  music and moving until it ached. Until all you had to worry about was locking up and racing home to shower, and all the things you'd been anxious about all week had long fled to the very back of your mind.

But the weekend was over, and you didn't have an excuse to stay in the studio now that all the kids who came to learn were long gone. But you had a perfectly sound reason for taking longer to do you post class stretches. As you took your sweet time sliding into your jacket and switching out the lights, you kept your eye on the window to the hallway. You tried not to look too obvious, but there was a silly, desperate hope inside of you; to see George.

The gym door remained shut, raucous music thumbing from somewhere deep inside, as you dragged your feet out in the hall. You tried not to look like you were casting glances over your shoulder, or seem too disappointed when you found no one there. When the door to your studio was locked and your adrenalin from class dwindled away, you went on your way.

And while you tried not to think about the funny feeling you got in your chest at the thought of George, you shoved open the door to the parking lot. The sky was a bleak grey and a chill crept past your layers of brightly colored clothes.

"Took you long enough." A voice crept close over your shoulder, causing you to spin around with a gasp.

George was leaning against the stone of the building, the hood of his pale jacket up over his head, strong arms crossed over his broad chest.

"How's your hand?" He asked, like he really cared to know.

"Oh, I'm managing." You decided with a smile, happening to glance at George's. "How's yours?" You asked, noticing bruises on his knuckles that weren't there the weekend before.

George seemed confused, for a beat, before glimpsing down at his fingers.

"Oh, this is nothing." He said. And before you could choose one the dozens of questions you had, you decidedly moved on.

"What are you waiting on?" You asked in a nervous giggle, glancing to his car a few parking spaces away.

"You, obviously." George rose a brow and reached for his bulky canvas bag that rested near his feet. You watched his lean figure shift as he carried the weight over one shoulder and stepped closer.

"Come on, It's my turn to treat you to DeAngelo's." He explained, walking past you to his sleek vintage car. The familiar screech of the city bus caught your ear, and you looked over to notice it stall to a stop, before you followed George's lead.

The ride was quiet. You spent most of the time pretending to be distracted by your chipping nail polish. Even in his silence George was captivating. You couldn't be sure if he'd noticed you stealing glances at him as he drove; but every time you did, you wouldn't let yourself look long.

You couldn't be sure why stepping foot into the diner to get felt different. Maybe it was because you weren't alone. You were mixed among dozens of other dinner parties and the combined white noise of everyone's collective chatter set you at ease. You weren't as shy to let your gaze linger on George as he studied you across the same booth as before.

And much like then, your conversations started mildly. He asked what you were going to order, and you tried not to feel too embarrassed for listing off the same meal. But he grinned and said he was going to do the same. And right as your conversation opened up to grow ever deeper, you were interrupted.

"Miss y/n!" An excited, drawn out greeting rang from a small boy who was busy bouncing your way. You didn't need to turn to know it was little Louis. He was one of your most loyal students. And though you'd never say it to anyone, the small kid was your favorite budding ballerina. Perhaps because he cared so unabashedly for you, too.

All four feet and fifty pounds of the curly headed boy crashed into your side of the booth, his little arms reaching to wrap you in a hug. You let out a surprised gasp and turned to try and greet the boy as soon as you realized he'd appeared.

"Today was lot's of fun. Can we do more big jumps next week?" The boy broke away from you to peer up, big brown eyes full of hope. You chuckled a little and assured the boy you'd planned on it. That's about the time his mother shuffled over, apologizing for her eight years old interrupting your dinner.

"It's alright." You assured, sheepishly glancing over to George who was sat back watching on with a coy grin. The kind of smile that- if you were younger and less confident, might have made you insecure. But knowing the little you did about George, you read no mocking in his expression. Only something more vulnerable you couldn't quite make out yet. You wondered all of a sudden just how exactly to get him to open up, and wondered hopelessly if you'd ever get the chance.

"I'm always glad to see you, Louis." You grinned at the boy, still glancing up to you in the sweetest way. "He's never missed a class in two years." You bragged to George now, who let his grin stretch a little wider.

Then you got the good sense to introduce the guy across from you. You gave his name away, and mentioned that he taught at the gym at Fit For All. Louis mother seemed to light up at the mention.

"Oh, you're Geogre? You know my oldest son, Danny. He talks about you all the time." The woman whose dark roots were nearly longer than the dyed blonde bits of her hair gleamed, and Geogre seemed to glow, too.

"Oh, yes. He's always at the gym, it seems." George sat up a little, peering to the woman Louis belonged to. The mother explained that her eldest wanted nothing more than to grow up to become a boxer. But a shoulder injury at the tail end of highschool ruined his chances. So Danny traded boxing for running, and had completed several marathons since.

George said the guy was great at encouraging the kids who frequented Fit For All, no matter which lesson they showed up for. It was your turn to smile and watch as George and his friends mother gushed over the guy who wasn't even around.

When Louis was coaxed from your side back to his mothers he gave you one final hug and raced her to a table across the room. A silence fell between you and George once more, but it was more familiar than ever. George was the first to break it.

"He was sweet." George smiled, reaching for his drink.

"Must run in the family." You pointed out. "I didn't realize Louis even had a brother."

"Danny is a good guy. He always knows just what to say. Not only to the kids, but to me too, some days." George let out a little laugh. A nervous, slightly bittered chuckle. And while it made you realize a little something more about him, it added to the complexity of George all the while. This guy was going to drive you nuts in no time. You'd let him.

///

And that's how it started. Every Friday, around the same time, you'd pile into George's ride and one of you would cover the bill for DeAngelo's.

Sometimes you got held up, trying to help a girl learn her steps for the schools annual talent show. You'd find Geogre had lingered in and made himself at home on the folded up mats near the door. You caught his gaze in the wall length mirror and tried to hide your blush while you danced on.

Other times, he'd be running behind. You shuffled outside to find George in the middle of what seemed to be a serious conversation with a familiar guy around your age. It was Danny, and you were introduced for the first time like you'd been friends forever. You found the rumors about the guy were true, even in the first few minutes of meeting. Danny mentioned his little brother mentioning you nonstop, and said how he'd been waiting to put your face to your name. George ended the small talk by reaching over and nudging you toward his car.

The slight touch of his arm against yours made you feel different than the only other time he'd touched you before. The last was when he'd rushed in to monitor your injured hand. And you couldn't feel much of anything. But now, when George leaned into you, pushing you away all the while, your nerves seemed to dance on end. But Danny's pleasant goodbye tore your thoughts away, and you waved your working hand to the guy and hoped out loud to see more of him.

Then George drove you to DeAngelos for another week in a row.

///

You hadn't really realized how much time had passed until snow started to fall. Granted the weather seemed to change much earlier than it ever had years prior. But it changed all the same, and it seemed to draw attention to the tradition you'd made of going to dinner with George.

You sat in the same spot almost everytime. And you talked about the same sorts of things. There were always complaints shared, about the growing cold, and the things that held up your week. There was always some kind of exciting news to share, about a new movie coming to town, or the things you'd accomplished during work. You even spoke about things you hadn't been keen on discussing with most other people. Like your relationship with your family and the scariest parts of highschool. Because George asked. He asked you more about yourself than he ever dared to mention his own stories.

"When are you gonna let me come watch you teach kids how to throw a punch, huh?" You teased. George had lingered in the doorway to catch the tail end of a handful of your lessons, by now. And he was always done for the night, when yours ended early.

As you ate your usual dinner, he kept his demure smile and rolled his dazzling blue eyes your way, before changing the subject. And you wanted nothing more than to listen to him talk, so you let your question go unanswered.

"We've been coming here a lot." He pointed out, plain and simply. But the comment made your heart feel like it had grown a layer of steel , sinking ever so slightly.

"Would you rather us go someplace else?" You wondered in a light manner, trying not to seem let down at the possibility of ending your tradition.

"Course not. I'm saying I like coming here." George smiled, then added, "With you."

You bit back your grin from spreading too widely and let the familiar bout of quiet follow.

///

But the next weekend was different and it was all your fault. Your water heater broke on Tuesday. And your landlord called back Wednesday night to say he couldn't help you fix it till he came back to town next week. You had to postpone Friday's class when you realized you were in too deep trying to fix the issue yourself. And while you fiddled with the matter with your non broken hand, a deep regret flooded your system when you realized George would miss you and you had no way of letting him know.

You worried all evening at the thought of standing him up. You crossed your working fingers that he'd still be keen to see you the next weekend; and tried to accept the fact that since your tradition had been broken, the thin connection you shared with George might now forever be lost, too.

By the end of your next week, your landlord was still off on holiday, and had taken to ignoring your texts asking for help. How hard was it for him to call a local mechanic to send your way before he left to go tanning for the day, or whatever?

And as you bared another cold shower and grumpily hurried to head to the studio, your power went out.

"No, no no!" You whined, flipping a light switch a dozen times in a row and wishing and hoping and praying everything would come back to life. You took a deep breath, rushed to the closet where the panel that held your home's power was, and were disappointed to find flipping a few switches there did absolutely nothing. You didn't have time to worry. You couldn't let your kids down again.

Some of them were already lingering outside of the studio when you rushed in, stomping away snow. Little Louis actually cheered and dashed your way for a hug, like he did. You smiled, set at ease by the child's sweet nature.

Then you taught him and a dozen others to dance, and let your worries fade away for an hour and a half. George hadn't slipped into the studio when the clock ticked past your usual meeting time. You tried not to let yourself feel disappointed when your kids shuffled home. You only wrapped up for the day and started to worry over your situation all over again.

But as you locked the doors to the studio, Danny was making his way out into the hall, and George was trailing close behind.

"Hey kid!" Danny glowed, turning to greet you in the dim hall. You shot him a pleasant smile, despite everything, trying not to catch George's gaze. Because his expression was so familiar, now. And he was looking right at you in a way you realized he so often did. And you'd let him down last week, and you had to do it again, now.

He shouldered past Danny as the bulky fellow seemed to decide to go home. He gave you both a quick goodnight before making his way toward the heavy doors. Then you were left alone with the guy you hadn't stopped thinking of since the time he held an ice pack to your knuckles.

"Where've you been?" He asked, like he was much more concerned than disappointed. And while that was nice, it wasn't enough to stop you from wanting to cry a little. God you hoped you didn't look the way you felt.

"I'm so sorry I missed last weekend." You started, shifting in place, under George's study on you. "My water heater broke. Then my power went out. So, now I've got to go home and figure out what to do. I hate to miss another one of our dinners but-"

"What do you need?" His question interrupted your rambles to a halt. You held your breath and looked to the guy for a curious beat before explaining yourself.

"Well I'm just going to grab some things and find a place to stay. Probably just that Motel on Second Street. My landlord is such a-"

"The Second Street Motel?" George grimaced, like he had memories of the place he wasn't over yet. "That place is a dump. And they'll over charge you. Why don't... if you'd like... well you could stay with me." George's confident speech dwindled into something meek as he spoke on. It made you chuckle a little, the way he'd surprised you when you least expected it. And when a moment of quiet passed as you searched his stunning blues eyes, George spoke up more assuredly.

"Only if you want."

"Only if you're sure." Your smile fell away as  dozen of nerves rose to your throat as you responded.

"Come on." He nodded, turning to the door in the same fashion he'd always do when you were headed to the one of the only other places you'd gone together. His ride to the urgent care was courteous. His company at DeAngelos was kind. And his offer for you to spend the night was an all new layer of generosity that made you feel the way you did when he touched you a few weeks ago.

///

He waited in his car while you used the flashlight on your phone to throw a few things in a bag. Between your toothbrush, your night clothes, and some things for the morning, you forced yourself not to think about what was happening. You just urged your feet to move and tried not to seem too excited to settle back into George's car.

He drove to his place in a silence that felt different than all the other times before. And when you stole a glance over to him, you could have sworn he'd just turned away from looking over to you. The thought danced through your mind till his vintage ride pulled to a stop outside a row of townhouses. They were just a few roads away from your own, in a quiet, bleak part of town.

George held open his front door as you stepped in from the cold, a baby blue backpack full of essentials in your clutch. And all of your expectations for what Geogre's home might have looked like were not only unmet, but left you with more questions about the guy than ever.

The home was neatly decorated in pale colors. Plants and picture frames decorated every shelf and corner, and the dish towel in his kitchen matched the tea kettle on the stove. It was reminiscent of a much older person's space, with a vibrant charm of someone much more spry. You padded to the cozy living room as Geogre disappeared around a corner, leaving you to think up a dozen more questions about the fellow you were determined to get to the bottom of.

As you eased onto the navy sofa and abandoned your bag, a light came on in the hall and an old orange cat came prancing toward your feet. You glanced down to the pet as it meowed up to you, and stretched to balance against your knees. You cooed, reaching to pet it, before the animal jumped into your lap.

"That's Sadie." George spoke, stepping into the room, slowly making his way toward the sofa. "I was going to apologize for her disregard for personal space but you don't seem to mind." He chuckled.

"Not at all, she's lovely." You grinned, cradling the cat like a baby as purs rattled her delicate frame. George seemed to watch on as you admired the pretty animal in your arms. And when you dared to look back up to him, he sat up a little, from where he was perched on the edge of the couch.

George said something about ordering take away from a place nearby, and you agreed with the condition that you got to pay for it, too make up for his kindness in letting you stay in his lovely home. And much to your surprise, when you realized it anyhow, you felt perfectly content waiting around with George, for the pizza to be delivered. He stuck to his end of the sofa, while you settled into yours, holding fast to Sadie all the while. You talked about usual things, and even laughed over some others, until there was a knock at the door.

George went to answer, as you trailed toward the kitchen, stopping in the hall to admire some of the photos on the wall. There were plenty of his family, or maybe just friends. And even some of George, dressed in boxing gloves, at who must have been his father's side. The older man who looked so much like George held up an award as his son stood by with a shy smile and messy hair.

George found you gawking at his frames on his mission to set the box of pizza on the table.

"This photo is sweet. Did you win this garish award?" You teased, turning to find George wearing a grin reminecent of the one he sported in the photo.

"I did." He said.

"But you don't really do this sort of thing anymore..." You spoke, halfway asking why in the gentlest way you knew that might pry open his closed off manner.

"No I haven't for a while." George said. He poured you both a strong drink, the kind DeAngelos didn't serve.

"Why is that?" You wondered, easing to one of the wooden paint chipped seats at George's kitchen table. You watched him take a sip of the dark liquid in his glass, as you reached for your own.

"It got to be too much." He said, easier than anytime before. Like he actually wanted to tell you. And you kept a quiet eye on him, hoping if you waited long enough, he'd keep talking.

And much to your patient delight, he did.

"I started going to Fit after school, when I had nothing better to do. I'd stay till close, because I didn't want to go home." George explained. You took small bites of pizza and listened on, eyes softly glued to George's every word. And as he ate, he told you that he didn't have a very easy time growing up. How his father was sick, and his mother was never around. How George never thought of his future because he was busy worrying about each day at a time. You could tell he didn't talk about it. Any of it. So you just kept sipping your drink and offering gentle encouragement for him to keep going. Because you wanted to know. You desperately cared to know.

George told you that on one of Bareny's regular stops in, the gym owner took notice of George. How he'd listen to the distant encouragement some coaches gave to students in the ring. How he didn't have the money to take those lessons and stuck to practicing on the mats in the corner. How Bareny noticed, and asked George if he'd like to be trained. How he took up the owners generous offer, free of charge.

And when you nudged him to keep talking by asking all the right questions, George explained that Barney helped him enter into matches that he won like an old pro. How exhilarating it was at first. But those nights would end and George would go home and he would hate it. You knew better than to ask why, as he moved on. You just hoped this was the beginning of him letting you in bit by bit. The first of many stories.  You downed the last of your drink while George finished his pizza.

"Well you might not box anymore but I'd still love to watch you teach kids how." You laughed, watching George crack a smile across the table from you. He thanked you for covering dinner and you thanked him for letting you stay over. Then you launched into a sudden ramble about how stressed out you were about what to do, how it might be better to move than to keep combating your landlord. But how you didn't have the funds to put toward either of those options.

"God sorry I sound like a cry baby." You laughed, resting your glass in George's sink as he stored the left over pizza away.

"No you don't. You sound worried, and I'm sorry to hear it. Letting you stay over is the least I could do, really." George shrugged, shifting to face you. He stood a step away, keeping his intimidating gaze on yours. The kind of glare that might have made you feel small if you didn't know George. But you saw past the way he stood so tall and stoically. You saw more of him tonight than you ever had before. And that's what made you unsure of what to say next.

"I think I'll go get cleaned up now." You spoke with a gentle nod, heading to collect your bag. George showed you to the bathroom at the end of the hall before turning away and saying something about changing, himself.

You were left to bask at your reflection in the harsh golden light as the bathroom fan buzzed overhead. You dug through your backpack to find the nightclothes you'd brought along and thought of George as you stepped into the shower. The water was hot, pelting your shoulder blades with a warmth you hadn't had the luxury of experiencing all week. But you hurried along, mindful not to use up all the hot water.

When you changed and took a deep breath and peered back to the mirror, it was covered in steam. So you zipped up your backpack and made your way back out into George's home. Sadie was waiting patiently outside of the door. She wove between your feet as you took care not to step in her path before she settled to walk at your side. Was this some kind of dream, you wondered? Some kind of idyllic alternate universe, where nothing was the matter and the space you occupied was warm and safe and shared by the boy you hadn't stopped thinking of for months in a row?

At the end of the hall, George's bedroom door was open. A soft amber light shone from the bedside lamp you could see. George appeared into view as you were drawn to the space like a moth to a flame. He wore a tattered t-shirt and a pair of cotton joggers you'd never seen him wear before. His yellow hair appeared slightly damp and he looked happy, somewhere in the depths of his usually guarded expression. He looked at home.

Sadie brushed past your ankle, out of the hall and into the living room, leaving you and George the most alone you'd ever been.

He stalled in the doorway as you halted your floating closer. His eyes were softer than you'd ever seen them, sleepier; maybe.

"Right, well goodnight I suppose." You smiled, trying not to let your eyes rake over his figure. You could practically feel how close he was.

"Right." George seemed to decide, letting his eyes search yours for a beat before his glance drifted over your shoulder.

"I'll find you some blankets." He said, slowly stepping past you. But before he could drift down the hall you stopped him. Somehow, you spoke without even thinking, without even knowing you were brave enough.

All you said was his name, like a question. And that was all it took. George turned on a dime and kissed you. He crashed his lips against yours and tangled his long fingers in your hair as he cradled your head. His grip was the only thing holding you in place as you melted into a puddle, against him. When you started kissing George back, he moved one hand down the length of your side as he made one swift move to pin you against the wall. You couldn't help but let out a surprised breath, a sigh, a laugh of some kind.

George responded by kissing you harder, until you could hardly breath. And when you stopped kissing him back to do just that, you felt George's gentle grip against the exposed skin of your hip; tighten ever so slightly.

"Do I still have to sleep on your sofa?" You asked what felt like one dozen questions in one. Your fear of ruining the one in a million moment disguised by a lithe smile. George responded by letting out a laugh, his eyes nearly closing as he did. And when he was finished, he said;

"Come on."

You followed George to his bed, not daring to hide your excitement. He pulled you in with a smile, perhaps the broadest of smirks you'd seen him sport. There was still so much you longed to know about George. So many questions you were eager to ask, so many things you longed to hear him talk about. But spending the night sharing his pillow was a good place to start, you figured. You hadn't expected it of course. You never knew what was next with George. You'd only, simply, hoped for a next time. And with the way he looked at you now, and held on, you rekonned maybe he didn't want you to stray too far, either.

───※ ·❆· ※─── taglist: @haileymorelikestupid​  @maria-josefin​​ @imaginesandyeah​​ @queen-bunnyears @okaymackay​

[tsarisfanfiction]

Pulse V

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst Characters: Scott Tracy, Alan Tracy, Gordon Tracy, Virgil Tracy

Part 5 of my entry for @gumnut-logic‘s SensorySunday: Touch. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

I knew I’d get screamed at for the last chapter, but I still didn’t expect quite so much of it.  Apparently you guys think I’m being mean to Scott?  Hmm...

Okay so I rarely do chapter warnings because I normally don’t consider them necessary, but I feel I should be a responsible author and warn that this part does contain a panic attack.  Please take care if that might affect your mental well-being <3

The moment the words left his mouth, Scott wanted to take them back.  Alan was right – he was a fully fledged member of International Rescue (and whose fault was that, a voice Scott liked to pretend didn’t exist hissed at him from the back of his mind) and therefore needed to be trusted as such on a mission.  But Alan was also a kid – his kid brother, to be precise – and even in the dim lighting Scott didn’t miss the fear that flickered through his eyes.

Alan needed him to be strong, needed him to be the supposedly-infallible big brother he’d always strived to be.  Battered and broken on the ground, incapable of moving with sheer spikes of agony lancing through him with every breath and then some from a specific point on his spine, Scott didn’t feel anything like that big brother.  But he had to be, even if his arms wouldn’t move and everything from his hips down was dead – so dead that he wasn’t even sure they were still there, although both Kayo and Alan would have reacted a little more dramatically if something like that had happened, he supposed.

That was the only reassurance he had that he wasn’t bisected and actually bleeding to death in this dark, unforgiving pile of former-building, and he hated it.  Hated that he was reduced to gauging his own well-being by how horrified his younger siblings were.

Alan took hold of his hand, ridged gloves brushing reassuringly against his exposed fingers.

“Can you feel this?” he asked, and Scott tried to pretend Alan’s voice wasn’t shaking, that he couldn’t feel minute tremors in his little brother’s hands.  He was supposed to be the one reassuring Alan, he was the big brother, the strong one, the infallible one.

He was scared, terrified. Petrified, even.  That was a good one – unable to move, petrified. He’d share it with Alan if it didn’t give away just how afraid he was.  He remembered Gordon, lying in that hospital bed with a broken back and never walk again flying around like a threat, a promise.  He remembered his vibrant brother dull and lifeless, I’ll never swim again.  He’d been there when Gordon was at his worst, the lowest of the low, scraping the bottom of the barrel to find something, anything to smile about when the world as he knew it was crashing down all around him.

Gordon was strong, he’d got through.  Barring a few bad days, you’d never know he’d spent months in the hospital fighting against his own body to get his legs back.  Scott had seen what strength he’d needed to win that battle, and the icy grip of fear around his heart told him you’re not that strong.  One Tracy beating the odds was miraculous.  Two-

Alan’s hand tightened slightly and his youngest brother made a concerned noise in the back of his throat. Scott blinked back to the present, away from not strong enoughs and never fly agains and everything else his fear was determined to throw at him.  Right, he hadn’t answered his question.

“Yeah,” he said, fighting his muscles with everything he had until his fingers twitched and loosely curled around those ridged gloves.  “I can feel it.”  It hurt, it hurt so, so, much, but Alan’s shaky sigh of relief and small, small smile was worth it.

“We’ll get you out of here,” Alan promised, eyes bright with tears the teenager was refusing to let fall. That, Scott couldn’t doubt.  No matter how terrified he was, no matter how much his own breathing was hitching irregularly from pain and rising panic, he knew he could trust his family to get him out of this hellhole.

It was what would happen next that scared him.  A hospital? Those same blank white walls he’d got far too used to when Gordon was confined there and he practically lived there, unable to abandon his brother?  Surgeries? Doctors going through the motions but already knowing there was nothing more they could do?

If this was his future, he’d never fly again.  He’d be useless, forced to watch his younger brothers keep throwing themselves into danger again and again and again without him to watch their backs and pull them out. Watch them wear themselves down until they, too, ended up a cripple from one rescue that took too much.

He couldn’t-  No-

That would be his worst nightmare.  Was his worst nightmare.  Scott had many, stemming back from their mother’s death to every rescue that had ever threatened to take a brother from him, and the worst ones of all were always when he could do nothing but watch.  Watch and scream, but be forever too late.

Just like the Zero-X.

No- no- he couldn’t-

“Scott!”

Alan’s voice was sharp and clear, dragging him from inside his head back to the here and now, where he was lying in a broken heap with his youngest brother for company.  A worried, also scared but trying to hide it and be professional youngest brother.  The one he was supposed to be looking after.  Not the other way around.  Not-

“Scott!”

This time there was a hand on his cheek – a ridged glove designed for space.  It didn’t move, just stayed still, warm and grounding as he realised he couldn’t breathe, was gasping for air that just wouldn’t fill his lungs.

“Scott, look at me.”

There was a steel in Alan’s voice now, one of the calm yet expected to be obeyed type.  Virgil was a master at it – John, too – and somewhere in the back of his mind a small voice wondered where Alan had learnt that trick.

Alan was above him, leaning over him with tears in his eyes but resolution in his face.  With a start, Scott realised his own face was wet, lungs still shuddering and chest heaving far too fast to be effective.

“Try breathe on my count,” Alan was saying, and somewhere in the back of his mind Scott recognised this, remembered the training.  “In… two… three… four… five… Out… two… three… four… five… In… two… three…”

Trying to get his raggedy breathing under control was a struggle, but Alan kept the count going, a soothing voice in his ear to go with the warm hand on his cheek, and finally, finally, Scott managed to match it.  That didn’t stop Alan’s count, steady and grounding, until the whine of machinery reached their ears.

“We’ll get you out of here,” Alan promised above the sound.  “And we’ll always help you, no matter what.”  If there was one thing he could never doubt, it was his family.  Still keeping his breathing carefully steady, all too aware that his grip on his panic was fragile at best, Scott gave him a shaky smile.

Alan returned it, just as shaky but bright as a Mole Pod whirred its way into view, followed closely by another.

Gordon was the first to jump out, scrabbling his way to his side.

“Hey, Scott,” he said, flashing him just the briefest smile before the younger brother was gone and the professional rescuer was in its place.  “Okay, before we move you we need a better idea of what we’re dealing with, so question time.”

“Alan said you’ve got some pain in your spine?” Virgil jumped in, clambering out of the second pod with a notable lack of his usual grace, Kayo immediately behind him.

Questions on when Alan had contacted them to share that information were pushed to the side as Scott caught sight of the sling his brother was sporting.

“What happened to you?” he demanded, attempting to sit up until his body reminded him viciously that it was injured and was having absolutely none of that.

“Broken arm,” Virgil shrugged off as though it was inconsequential.  “We’re talking about you right now.”  Scott disagreed, but it became quickly apparent that his siblings refused to change targets and as loath as he was to admit it, he was in a bad way.  He carefully stopped himself from thinking beyond that, having no wish to slip into another panic attack with all his siblings as witness – John was, no doubt, listening in.  

Even with the Mole Pods’ entrances expanding the space somewhat, the area was still markedly cramped with the five of them in there.  Kayo shouldn’t even have come back, not with that ankle of hers, and why did Virgil even let her?

Blond filled his vision and Gordon was there, blocking his view of anything else.

“Can you tell where the epicentre of the pain is?” his aquanaut brother asked.  “Top, middle or bottom?”

Scott really didn’t want to talk about himself, want to think about his injuries; he wanted to know what had happened to Virgil while he hadn’t been there to keep an eye on him, wanted to know how bad Kayo’s injuries were.  But Gordon was persistent, amber eyes equal parts compassionate and determined.

There was no point lying to Gordon, as much as he wanted to hide his weaknesses from all of his brothers.  Gordon had been there, knew exactly what it was like – knew exactly what was in his future. If there was anyone who would understand, it was Gordon.

“Bottom,” he admitted, watching Gordon’s face carefully for a reaction, but the strategist that often got overlooked for prankster had a master poker face and not even Scott’s big brother instincts could detect a crack.

“Lumbar, then,” his brother muttered.  “Anywhere else?”

Anywhere else? It was all just one big sensation of pain; Scott couldn’t identify any other centres, and wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad sign.  Could lumbar injury paralyse all of him?  He didn’t know, and neither Gordon nor the suspiciously-quiet Virgil were giving him any clues.

Gordon sighed.

“Okay, let’s get you out of here,” he said.  “Alan, give me a hand.”

The hand on his cheek that had stayed there all through the brief interrogation left as Alan made a noise of confirmation, and then his siblings were shuffling around with the tell-tale sound of hoverjets behind them letting him know the stretcher had indeed been retrieved.  There wasn’t much Scott could do, except lay as still as he could in the hopes of keeping the pain to a minimum and wait for his brothers to get him out of there.

He wasn’t kept waiting long before they were ready to move him.  He eyed Alan, up by his head, hands lightly on his shoulder, with some trepidation.

“Take a deep breath,” Virgil said from somewhere down where he supposed his feet should be.  “This won’t be pleasant.”  Scott knew that – was dreading it – and obeyed, closing his eyes and trying to recall the way Alan had counted him through breaths earlier.

“On three,” he heard Gordon say, from a little closer than Virgil.  There was a hand on his hip, just above where it all went dead.  He guessed the other one was below the cut off.  “One, two, three.”

His vision went white as a new dagger of pain shot straight through him.  There was the sound of distant screaming, and then everything went blissfully dark.

Part 6

[celticmess]

34. "Please put the bottle down" and/or 35. "Please don't make me go back. Let me stay here" idk who just make it HURT

y’all are having too much fun have some angst instead :)

Characters and AU are from @devil-may-care-seriesJonathan had to admit, sharing an RV with Chuck and Reggie wasn’t the easiest thing. Maybe he could think of several junk yards that would be a better place to live than with those two, but while they were playing together it was just easier and cheaper to live in the RV. They had their moments of contention, where someone would accidentally steal someone else’s ramen or someone would wake up too early and annoy the others, but overall it worked. The only exception was when you threw Nathan Smith into the mix, and you ended up with a recipe for disaster. Like today. 

It had been bad enough that Nate had turned up out of the blue expecting them to give him a bunk and some food. It had taken all of Jonathan’s strength to stop Chuck and Reggie from jumping at his throat right there, for their sake more than Nate’s. Despite many objections, Jonathan let Nate stay. All they could see was someone who’d maybe been on a weekend bender. He saw someone who had had a rough hunt. That had led to almost an hour of passive aggressive jabs from opposite sides of the RV, so Jonathan had sent Chuck and Reggie out to blow off some steam. Surprisingly, they had listened. Maybe it was their dislike for Nate that encouraged them to comply, maybe it was Jonathan’s serious tone of voice. Either way, they left the RV, leaving Jonathan and Nate alone together. Jonathan tried to comfort Nate, but in typical Nathan Smith fashion he brushed him off with a cocky smirk and a bad joke. It took five attempts to get Nate to open up before Jonathan gave up and decided to heat up some leftover pizza from a few nights before that the two could snack on. When he set the plates down, Nate scoffed the food like he hadn’t eaten in days. From the look of him, he probably hadn’t. Other than his concerning behaviour, the two actually had a pleasant meal. They laughed, chatted, and caught up with each other for a solid half an hour. It was good, great even! So Jonathan should’ve known that it couldn’t last. 

He was adding the plates to the ever growing pile of dirty dishes when he heard the glass smash behind him. The sound caused him to flinch violently and spin to see what had happened. Originally, he thought someone - or something - had broken the windows, but he saw no shattered panes when he turned around. Then he saw Nate, stood with his back pressed against the wall, white as a sheet with half a bottle in his hand, the rest of it being all over the floor and sofa.

“Nate?” Jonathan called, but his friend didn’t seem to notice him. Instead, he seemed focused on a spot on the opposite side of the RV from him. He was wielding the broken bottle like a weapon, and his face had twisted into a mix of fear and anger.

“Leave me alone!” he hissed to no one. 

“Nate!” Jonathan tried again, looking between Nate and the space he was so obsessed with “There’s nothing there, buddy.” 

“Go away!” Nate yelled, Jonathan’s words falling on seemingly deaf ears. 

“Come on, Nate…” Jonathan muttered, looking around for anything that could help him. He racked his brain for the solution to ‘my best friend is seeing things and wielding sharp objects’, but that topic strangely never cropped up in his many years of hunting. It was at that moment that Chuck and Reggie walked in, ever the ones for perfect timing, and saw Nate with that crazed look and a broken bottle in hand. Of course their first reaction was to start shouting at him before Jonathan could stop them. Nate’s eyes flitted over to them, but they were still unseeing. Jonathan didn’t know what Nate was seeing, but it sure as hell wasn’t Chuck and Reggie. Nate lunged for them, throwing himself over whatever was in his way, but Jonathan saw the way his muscles tensed a split second before he moved and was fast enough to get in front of him grabbing him by his shoulders and stopping him in his tracks. He was faintly aware of the pain that had sprung up in his side, but he pushed it away as he forced Nate to look in his eyes. On the one hand, it wasn’t that difficult, but on the other hand, something switched in Nate’s mind. He threw himself backwards and out of Jonathan’s grip.

"Please don't make me go back. Let me stay here.” he pleaded, reminding Jonathan way too much of a scared kid. He held a hand out to him, like he was trying to calm a scared animal while his other hand went to the pain in his side to be greeted by the all too familiar feeling of blood. 

“I’m not making you go anywhere, Nate-” 

“Like hell is he staying here!” Chuck shouted, and Jonathan had to stop himself from turning around and punching him right there.

“Chuck, shut up.” he hissed, shooting a glare over his shoulder before focusing on Nate again. Nate, who’s grip on the glass bottle was strong enough to make his knuckles go white. Any tighter and he may actually shatter it.

“Nate, it’s only us. No hallucinations, just us.” Jonathan said calmingly, and he saw a flicker of recognition in Nate’s eyes, how his body seemed to relax ever so slightly. 

“Shady?” he said quietly, and Jonathan nodded.

“Yeah, it’s me.” he confirmed, starting to move towards Nate in slow, obvious movements. “Now… please put the bottle down.” 

Nate looked at the bottle in his hand, like he hadn’t even known that it was there, before nodding slowly, putting it down on the side somewhere. As he put the bottle down, he seemed to return to his senses and realise what he’d done, looking at Jonathan and his injured side in horror. 

“Jonathan, I’m sorry, I-” he surged forwards to try and help his friend, but Chuck and Reggie were there in an instant, protecting Jonathan. 

“Back off.” Reggie snapped, and Nate did. He looked from Jonathan holding his side to Shawn at his side helping him to Chuck, standing in between them and Nate like a bodyguard. It took a few seconds for the words Chuck had said to register in his mind, but once they did he was gone. Several fast, feverish steps and he was out of the RV. A few more and he was back in the Firebird, his head resting on his steering wheel as he let out a frustrated scream. Then he took one look back at the RV before starting the car and speeding off. He could find somewhere else to stay. Somewhere where he wasn’t a danger, wasn’t a hazard and wasn’t a burden.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch16: Till The End Of The Line

Summary: The launch is growing ever nearer and in a desperate attempt to stop it before it is too late, the renegade group are intercepted by the Winter Soldier. When he is unmasked, Steve finds himself face to face with someone he presumed dead a LONG time ago, his childhood friend, Bucky Barnes. Only Bucky has no idea who he is... Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Violence, bad language words, and some angst.

A/N: This was updated on 18th Sept 2020 to include a little more action at the beginning and a bit of creative license as to how the fight between Steve and Buck on the helicarrier went down, with the addition of Katie being there. Originally I deleted this part, but I found it...and thought it was actually pretty good...so here it is.

Open for tags- ping me an ask

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist

"HYDRA doesn't like leaks," Sitwell continued to talk and try to plead his case as they drove down the freeway, heading back towards the Triskellion.

"So why don't you try sticking a cork in it," Sam finally snapped.

"Insight's launching in sixteen hours, we're cutting it a little bit close here," Nat said sticking her head between the two front seats from where she was sat in the middle seat next to Sitwell, Katie on her other side behind Steve's seat.

"We can use him to bypass the DNA scans…” Steve said, clearly having already thought it through. “That way we can access the Helicarriers directly, "What?! Are you crazy?! That is a terrible, terrible idea-" Sitwell began to protest but was cut off, his screams dying as he was pulled out of the car and thrown into oncoming traffic just as a sixteen-wheeler was going past. Katie let out a scream as Sam yelled “Shit” and there was a shot fired, a bullet ripping into the seat where Katie had been sat seconds before, Natasha pulling her to the side.

"Move!" Natasha yelled at Steve as she clambered through the middle of the two seat and onto his lap pulling him down away from the next bullet which was meant for him. Steve pulled on the handbrake and the person on the roof dropped down onto the street.  All 4 of them in the car watched as he rolled and rolled and used his metal arm to slow his momentum before standing up. He was tall, well built, long dark hair whipping around his masked face.

“It’s him…” Natasha said, her voice almost a whisper, “The Winter Soldier.”

Katie aimed her gun through the windscreen, taking aim, when they were violently hit from behind causing Katie’s usual dead shot to ricochet off the side of the man’s arm instead of his head. The car behind pushed them closer and closer to him until he was able to leap back onto the roof, as Nat searched for her gun and Katie aimed hers upwards. Suddenly, a metal hand smashed through the windshield and pulled out the steering wheel from Sam’s hand.

"Shit!" Sam yelled again.  Natasha, after having found her gun, started shooting at him but the Winter Soldier jumped onto the jeep behind their car that had started erratically pushing theirs along the road.

“Katie…!” Steve yelled, gesturing for me to climb into the front. "Hang on!”

She scrambled over the central gap between the front seats as Steve broke open the door with his shield pushed up against it, holding onto them all as best he could as the car began to flip. They dropped from the car onto the door as well as the shield and slid roughly along the street. Sam lost his grip and slipped away but luckily he only tumbled a few metres away mostly unharmed.

The three of them that remained hanging onto the shield quickly stood once they had come to a complete stop, the jeep that had caused the crash stopping as well, men all fully armed climbing out and one of them handing the Winter Soldier a grenade launcher, which he immediately used. Steve pushed Katie and Natasha out of the way and took the full force of the grenade with his shield which sent him flying over the bridge, just as the Winter Soldier reloaded and began firing at the rest of them.

They quickly dove for cover behind a car and together moved along the bridge, car by car, Natasha and Katie shooting back at the soldiers with their hand guns. Katie tossed one of my spare pistols to Sam who caught it, and started firing as well. This was working at keeping them at bay reasonably well, until they were forced to the edge of the bridge and the Winter Soldier shot another grenade at them.

There was nothing for it, they had to jump. Nat had her anchor so she leapt off, grabbing Katie’s hand as she shot up at the concrete of the bridge. They landed a bit heavier than normal, Katie rolling a few feet over the contract but she was soon back on her feet and running behind Natasha under the bridge.  Nat skidded to a halt as they reached the other end, the shadow of the Winter Soldier visible on the ground in front of them. They shared a quick glance and with a nod they split up, Katie veering left, Natasha veering right. With a deep breath, Katie stepped out from the shelter of the bridge, took aim and shot her gun up at the Soldier and she saw his head jerk back, and then he removed his glasses. She had hit where she had aimed but it hadn’t done as much damage as she had hoped.

Ducking back under the bridge she carried on running and at this point she could hear machine gun firing and paused as she turned to see the fire trained onto a bus. Steve emerged from the end of it, rolling and picking up his shield and adding to the fray, Sam was firing at hostiles as well from his vantage point above.

“Go, I got this…”He yelled and Steve set off running once more.

Katie turned and looked across the way, the Winter Soldier was stalking between cars, presumably looking for them. She shadowed him, remaining a good distance away, as he rolled something under a car. Next thing she knew, there was an explosion and Nat had vaulted onto his back, attempting to tackle him that way. Katie sprinted towards her, and then slid across the floor, kicking at the back of his knee, making him stumble slightly but nothing more. She jumped up just as he flipped Natasha over onto her back and aimed a shot at him causing him to leap off somewhere to his right. Katie spun round, her gun aimed ready, looking for him but he was nowhere to be seen.

She started to sprint over towards Natasha, yelling at the screaming members of the public to get out of the way as she went, when she felt a searing pain in her shoulder. She gave a scream of pain, stumbled, and dropped to her knees putting a hand to the wound someone had just shot clean through. She backed up against a car, breathing hard looking around again when a thump from behind her had her turning to see that the Winter Soldier had hopped onto the hood of the car behind the one she was leaning on, gun aimed straight at her head.

Steve had heard that scream and he spun round to see Katie was pressed up against a car, her hand up against her left shoulder, her eyes fearful. As he turned to sprint towards her, the the Winter Soldier hopped up onto the car behind, taking aim with his gun Steve launched his shield with a loud grunt and  It knocked the metal armed man off the car, but with practiced ease the assassin landed on his feet and made to shoot again but Steve was right there, on him, launching a knee to his chest. The Winter Soldier stumbled slightly, before he cocked his head to one side, threw his gun away and advanced on Steve. The two began to fight, furiously, Steve blocking the swipes the assassin took at him with a dagger, slamming him into cars with his shield. 

Toe to toe they went, the fight was furious. Each landing blows which would under normal circumstances dispatched an opponent but here, they were pretty equally matched. The man was just as strong as Steve and The Captain realised that he had to be enhanced.

As the fight was raging between the two men, Natasha reached Katie’s side and dropped to her knees, ripping off her jacket and covered the wound with it in an attempt to stem the blood flow. "Alright, c'mon." She said wrapping her arm over her shoulders. "Get up."

She helped Katie to her feet, and the injured woman looked back in time to see the Winter Soldier launch himself at Steve. Steve managed to grab him under his chin, propelling him straight over the top of him in a huge arc, causing his mask to clatter to the ground right before the dark haired man landed gracefully on his feet. Steve stood up, waiting to see the face of the man who was causing them so much goddamned trouble, but when the guy turned round, he felt his heart stop.

Katie frowned as she watched as Steve stood stock still, staring at the now unmasked Winter Soldier who looked oddly familiar. It took her a moment but then she realised, he was familiar because she’d seen him in photos. His hair was longer, and he looked a little more ragged round the edges, but it was him.

Steve took a deep breath, his heart stopping as he looked into the man’s grey eyes.

“Bucky?” he gasped, frowning.

“Who the hell’s Bucky?” the man said. Steve paused, it sounded like him. It looked like him. It was him, but in the same way it wasn’t. What had Hydra done? The Soldier seemed to be thinking about something, before he shook his head slightly and aimed at Steve with his last remaining gun, but before he could shoot Sam swooped down, his wings once again attached to his back, and kicked him away but he didn’t stay down for long.

Katie looked around, and noticed that there was an RPG on the floor, she nodded towards it and Natasha picked it up, and aimed a well fired grenade over Steve’s head, forcing him to duck. It exploded where the Winter Soldier had stood, bringing the fight to an end.

Steve turned and looked and Katie slumped against the van, struggling to stay on her feet. It was then that black vans and jeeps surrounded them, and the former STRIKE teams piled out.

"Drop the Shield, Captain! Get down on your knees! Get on your knees! Now! Get down! Get down!" Rumlow shouted out the orders. Steve did as he was told and placed his shield on the ground while holding his hands up defensively, not once taking his eyes off Katie, as she screamed in pain as a hand sharply grabbed her shoulder, pressing down on the injury. She was hauled forwards, stumbling, her hands roughly snapped in cuffs in front of her.

Steve started to struggle but a gun was pressed into the back of his head causing him to stop. He didn’t listen to what they were saying, he was too busy trying to make sure Katie was ok, and then there was Bucky. As he stood up and was shoved forward, he was directed towards an SUV, followed by Nat and Sam. He turned to see Katie fall as she was shoved forwards before being wrenched roughly back to her feet by Rumlow who grabbed her arm harshly and grinned as he leant down, his mouth inches from her ear.

“Of all the times I dreamed of getting you in handcuffs…” he said, loud enough for Steve to here. The soldier let out a growl in his throat as Katie bared her teeth at Rumlow.

“Fuck you.” she spat.

“Oh darling, if only…”

“I warned you what would happen if you touched my girl again…” Steve snarled as with a huge wrench he snapped the cuffs that were pinning his arms behind his back and kicked out at the soldier that was stood at the side of the SUV. He advanced towards Rumlow. who almost lazily pulled a pistol from his belt and held the barrel against Katie’s head.

“One more move Rogers and I’ll blow her pretty little head off.”

Steve stopped dead, swallowing, his eyes blazing as he looked at Katie, her face was contorted in pain from the shot in her shoulder. She fixed her eyes on his, and he took a deep breath and looked back at Rumlow. 

“In the van...”  Rumlow instructed. 

And Steve knew he had no choice. With a last look at his girl he turned, bowing his head slightly. Once inside a pair of masked agents shoved him down, one giving him a harsh dig to his stomach, knocking the wind out of him as they clamped his feet in strong shackles to the side of the van, clamping his hands together in equally strong restraints in his lap.

Rumlow just laughed and threw Katie into the SUV, unceremoniously. She staggered to a seat as the doors swung shut behind them, the van starting and beginning to move only moments later.

Steve’s heart was in his mouth as he saw the extent to which his girl was hurt, the left side of her denim jacket was soaked with blood. She lay her head back against the seat and took a deep breath letting out a moan. It hurt. A lot. 

“Katie…” Steve he said, making sure his voice was calm “Come on, talk to me, sweetheart.”

“You know…” she said, opening one eye. “I’m going to get one of my childhood friends shoot you, see how you like it…”

Steve took a deep breath, glad she was still able to make jokes, but also comforted by the fact she’d recognised Bucky too, and he wasn’t going totally crazy.

“Childhood friend?” Sam asked “You mean that dude, Robocop? You know him?”

“Bucky…” Katie whispered, looking at Sam “Steve’s Riley…”

“He was my best friend. One of the Commandos.” Steve said softly, looking at his feet.

 “What?”  Natasha questioned. “It can’t be…”

"It was him," Steve said "And he looked right at me like he didn't even know me."

"How is that even possible?" Sam asked in disbelief. "That was like, seventy years ago."

"Zola," Steve immediately answered. "Bucky's unit was captured back in 43'. Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. They must have found him and..."

"None of that's your fault, Steve," Katie said gently as she grit her teeth through the pain in her shoulder. She was starting to feel a little light headed.

"Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky."

He heard Katie taking a deep breath through her nose, and suddenly he was jerked back to the here and now. She needed help.

"We need a doctor here," Sam’s voice sounded out, beating him to it as she rest her head back against the seat. She was starting to feel really sleepy. Really sleepy.

“I think I need to sleep…” she muttered, softly and Steve instantly leaned forward, speaking in his Captain’s voice in a hope it would jerk her out of it.

“Stay awake. Eyes on me, doll”

"If we don't put pressure on that wound, she's gonna bleed out here in the truck...” Sam cut off and Steve turned to see why, watching with an open mouth when he saw the guard on the left whip out an electric rod, before flipping it and electrocuting the other guard before kicking and knocking them unconscious.

"That thing was squeezing my brain," Maria Hill complained as she pried the helmet off.

“Nice of you to show up…” Katie groaned, “We only called you like what, 12 hours ago…”

“Who's this guy?" Hill asked, ignoring Katie and nodding to Sam.

"Sam Wilson." Steve quickly introduced him, happy to see a friendly face. "Sam this is Maria. She's on our side." He added and Sam nods accepting Steve's word as Hill took out a set of keys and began to unlock their restraints.

Steve was by Katie’s side as soon as he was free. Her arms were released and she moved, crying out in pain.

“It’s ok…” he said as the truck stopped. “We’ll get you fixed up honey, I promise.”

"We gotta' get moving, Cap." Hill said, moving to the middle of the van. “Stand back”

What the device was he had no idea, but he didn’t care. It lazered through the SUV floor with ease and he turned to see Katie had now passed out. Giving a groan of frustration, he gently picked her up, and Maria dropped herself out of the SUV, then Natasha, then Sam who Steve passed his girl to gently. Once he was out, they rolled to the side, dodged down an alley and into another waiting SUV. Sam gently placed Katie on one of the seats, Hill passing Steve a spare jacket so that he could place it over the wound, applying pressure.

“Lay her flat…” Sam said, as the SUV sped forward “it’ll help stop the flow…”

With Sam’s help they managed to manoeuvre Katie so she was lay with her head on Steve’s lap. She murmured something and with his spare hand he gently carded his fingers through her hair.

“We’re not far out Cap.” Maria said, looking at him “Bout 20 mins or so. I’ll call ahead to medical, make sure they’re prepped”

He nodded and leaned back, lost in his thoughts. Bucky, Katie, Bucky, Katie… like a mantra it kept repeating in his head. Sam and Natasha were busy asking Maria questions, and he vaguely caught her answers-there was a secret SHIELD base outside town, no Hydra didn’t know, yes she was sure, yes she knew about insight and yes it needed to be stopped.

After what felt like the longest 20 minutes of Steve’s life they drew up to a stop outside what looked like a huge dam of sorts built into the side of a hill, and Steve stood up, easily picking Katie up into his arms, following Maria’s direction. They entered the large concrete doors into a brightly lit corridor and Maria shouted to someone who was running towards them dressed in a white coat.

"GSW. She's lost at least a pint!" Maria was shouting.

"Maybe two," Sam added.

He felt Katie stir in his arms and he glanced down to see her blinking, her eyes screwed against the light.

 “Where…” she grimaced slightly at the pain both in her head and her shoulder. Fuck, she had no idea where she was or what had happened, other than she had clearly passed out.

“We’re safe.” Steve said, pressing his lips to her forehead, relieved to hear her voice even if she did sound like she was in agony. 

"Let me take her," the doctor called out.

“No,” Steve said firmly, his grip on Katie tightening slightly “Show me where to put her.”

"They’ll want to see him first" Maria said to the doctor who nodded and gestured for Steve to follow him.

“Who?” Katie asked, blinking.

No one answered and they were led to a room at the back of the facility where Hill pushed aside the plastic divider to where a very much alive Nick Fury was sat up in a bed.

Steve felt his mouth drop open as Fury remarked. "About damn time."

The doctor came in behind them and gestured for Steve to place Katie into a seat so he could start working on her wound. He did so gently, his hand sliding into her hair once more as he placed a kiss onto the crown of her head, not moving far from her, his hand gently resting on her good shoulder.

“This is gonna sting a bit Miss Stark…” the doctor said, and she nodded, hissing as he injected the local into the wound, and her spare hand reached up to grip Steve’s.

“You ok?” he crouched down and she turned to look at him.

“Marvellous.” she said, sarcastically “This is the best day of my life.”          

He chuckled, as long as she was being snarky she was ok. “You’ll be fine, won’t she doc?”

The doctor nodded. “I know it doesn’t feel like it but this is quite superficial.” he held up the bullet he had removed. “It hasn’t gone in too deep. You’ve just lost a fair bit of blood but I’m not too concerned, unlike him”

He gestured at Fury and Katie turned to look at him as Steve stood up doing the same.

"Lacerated spinal column, cracked sternum, shattered collarbone, perforated liver, and one hell of a headache." Fury spoke.

"Don't forget your collapsed lung," The doctor added.

"Let's not forget that," Fury chuckled. "Otherwise, I'm good."

"They cut you open," Natasha spoke to Fury. Her voice not accusing but hurt, "Your heart stopped."

"Tetrodotoxin B. Slows the pulse to one beat a minute. Banner developed it for stress. Didn't work so great for him, but we found a use for it." Fury replied

“Ok you’re done.” The doctor said and Steve turned back to see Katie who was now plugged up to a bag of blood. “Bit of rest and I’ll check your levels later.”

“Thanks…” she said, turning back to Fury.

"Any attempt on the Director's life had to look successful," Hill informed Steve eyed her, remembering how defeated she had looked at the hospital when they announced Fury's 'death'. Either she hadn't known at the time, or she was a damn good actor.

"Can't kill you if you're already dead. Besides, I wasn't sure who to trust," the Director admitted.

*******

"This man declined the Nobel Peace Prize. He said peace wasn't an achievement, it was a responsibility," Fury scoffed while throwing a picture of Alexander Pierce to the middle of the table they were all sat round once they had all finished telling each other what had happened at the various stages of the day. "See, it’s stuff like this that gives me trust issues."

"We have to stop the launch," declared Steve.

"I don't think the Council's accepting my calls anymore." Fury added with a huff of a laugh, even though there was nothing funny about the situation at all.

“Ok so what do we do?” Katie cut in, “How do we stop it?”

Hill glanced at Fury before she leaned forward in her seat to grab the case which had been sitting on the table. She clicked the locks, opened up the top and spun it round to show them what was inside- 3 equally sized chips with similar designs of code etched into them.

"Once the helicarriers reach 3,000 feet, they'll triangulate with Insight satellites, becoming fully weaponized," Agent Hill explained, opening up a laptop. She turned it around to allow them to see a simulated concept video of what she was saying. "We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own. One or two won't cut it. We need to link all three carriers for this to work, because if even one of those ships remains operational, a whole lot of people are gonna die."

"We have to assume everyone aboard those carriers is Hydra. We have to get past them, insert these server blades. And maybe, just maybe we can salvage what's left-" Fury started but he was cut off by Steve who harshly interrupted.

"We're not salvaging anything.” He said shaking his head slowly, and he meant it. “We're not just taking down the carriers, Nick. We're taking down SHIELD"

"SHIELD had nothing to do with this." Fury tried to defend his organization but there was a derisive snort which cut him short. Everyone turned in the direction from which it had been issued.

“Sorry, did I do that out loud?” Katie said, sitting up slightly.

“You gave me this mission.” Steve said, turning back to Nick, shaking his head “This is how it ends. SHIELD's been compromised. You said so yourself. Hydra grew right under your nose and nobody noticed."

"Why do you think we're meeting in this cave? I noticed," Fury said waving around him as if it was somehow enough.

"How many paid the price before you did?" Steve snapped, voice still hard, as his mind turned to Bucky. 

"Look, I didn't know about Barnes." Fury sighed sitting back in his seat.

"Even if you had, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalised that, too?” Steve’s tone was icy. He knew the director hadn’t been involved in whatever Hydra had done but he couldn’t help but feel angry. He took a deep breath and when he spoke again his voice was softer but still as stern “SHIELD, Hydra…” he shook his head gently “it all goes."

"He's right," Hill finally spoke, sadness tinged her voice.

Director Fury looked at every single person in the room. He made specific eye contact with Katie who raised her eyebrows, defiantly. Natasha didn’t react at all, which in itself was enough. Then finally he looked to Sam, clearly curious as to what he thought about the whole thing.

"Don't look at me. I do what he does, just slower," Sam vouched. Steve couldn’t help but smirk slightly.

"Well..." Fury leaned back and let out a sigh as he looked Steve in the eye. "It looks like you're giving the orders now, Captain."

Whilst Steve was glad, he took no pleasure in what they were about to do. SHIELD along with Katie had been his anchor after waking up and bringing the security agency to its knees made him quite sad, especially after Peggy, Howard and Chester had been its founders. Nevertheless it was the right thing to do and for the next few hours they sat discussing and eventually had the bones of a plan in which each person had a different role to play. Natasha would be posing as one of the World Security Council members, using a Photostatic Veil to bypass the security measures, joined by Fury. And, as Hill had somehow retrieved Katie’s Nova suit from her car (Katie didn’t even bother asking how) her, Steve and Sam would be the ones going from helicarrier to helicarrier with the chips and switching out the old ones with the new ones. Maria would be on the ground, making sure all was going to plan.

“We’re going to have to come up with another way to disable the encryption.” Nat said, looking at Fury as he took a sip from a bottle of water. “Pierce will have erased all of your clearance from the Triskelion system”

“Not all of it.” Hill said with a wry smile

“What do you mean?” Katie frowned, taking the chocolate bar Steve handed to her with a smile. The doctor was happy with her blood levels but told her to keep her sugar and energy levels high, as such, Steve was ensuring she ate enough by consistently passing her snacks from the pile that Hill had dumped in the middle of the table for everyone to munch on until pizzas arrived.

Fury looked at her, then to Hill, before he reached up and flipped up his eyepatch revealing his badly scarred right eye.

“I build safety switches into most things these days.” He said dryly. “There’s a scan of this eye hidden on an old database, a seemingly un-active one from the 90s... “

“So if we can access that database remotely, we can pull that scan across onto the active one and bingo.” Katie grinned, swallowing her bite of the Snickers.

“We don’t have the capacity to do that from here.” Natasha sighed,

“No, but JARVIS can" Katie said

“Alright.” Steve said, drawing himself up to full height “We only have..." he checked the clock on the wall. "6 hours until the launch." Steve nodded at the people who were watching him from their spots at the table. "Everyone, I suggest we get to it.”

There was a flurry of movement accompanied with the scraping of chairs as people pushed themselves away from the table, ready to put their wheels of the plan into motion.

****

“Hey JARVIS…” Katie said as she accessed the AI on one of the laptops

“Miss Stark…” JARVIS greeted.

“I got another favour to ask. I need access to SHIELD's old clearance scans from 1995. We're talking the high-ups, the OG's."

"Dare I ask why?" and Katie rolled her eyes at his response. Fucking Tony.

"Because." she answered simply in the hope it would stop him from questioning her. It did.

“It might take me a little while.”

“Fast as you can J.” she said, “We’re up against it here.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to contact Mr Stark?” he asked

“No, I don’t”

It took 30 minutes. Thanking JARVIS, Katie started to scroll through the database to get the name she wanted. She quickly scanned the information. The database was full of former SHIELD security clearances. Some had moved on to other places - CIA, FBI, etc. Others had to get new clearances when they moved up in the world of SHIELD, few had just simply died and left their clearances behind.

The one she was looking for was still alive, although HYDRA and Pierce thought otherwise. Fury had hidden an alternative retina scan under the name Carol Danvers. She had no idea if that was a significant name to him or just something random, but she didn’t really care. She pulled the access pass and sent it to the main database so they could use it when they got to the Triskelion without going through the backway again.

Taking a deep breath before standing up, she glanced down at the laptop before closing it and heading off to find Steve.

The soldier was outside, desperate for some fresh air, lost in his thoughts. He should have gone back for Bucky. He survived the fall, but Steve had left him. Left him to the clutches of HYDRA, who had brainwashed him into becoming their assassin. He ran his hand over his face and leaned against the railing, watching as the first tendrils of daylight broke over the horizon.

As always he was aware of her presence before she spoke, so he wasn’t surprised when she asked if he was ok, and turned to face her, letting out a sight.

 “Not really…” he said, honest to a fault.

“You know, this is the right thing to do…” she said, as she slid between him and the barricade of the bridge so that her lower back was pressed against the rails.

“I know.” both his hands dropped to her hips. “I really wish you’d sit this one out”

“I can’t sit it out Steve. You know that.” she said “this is personal for me too. Besides, you need me.”

He understood. And there was no point trying to make her stay behind, she was probably the only person on the planet that could rival him for stubbornness. And she was right, they did need her.

“He’s going to be there.” Katie said gently, breaking the silence.

“I know.”

“Whoever he used to be, the guy he is now… I don’t think he’s the kind you can save, Steve. He’s the kind we need to stop.”

“I have to try” Steve said, eventually looking at her, pleading with her to understand “I can’t just give up on him.

She did understand, she understood perfectly well, and could only imagine what he was feeling at seeing his best friend, the man he had known all through his childhood, manipulated in such a way.

"We can never give up on those we care about, we can only try our best." she said.  “Just...remember that he's not the same person he was seventy years ago."

He raised his eyebrows up slightly.

"Neither am I." he responded matter of factly. She held eye contact with him for a moment, but she knew there was no point in trying to convince him otherwise; Bucky was his best friend. He loved him and wasn't about to let Hydra take him away again and eventually she gave a soft smile.

“I know.” she said gently, just before he pressed his lips to hers. She kissed him back, eagerly, the kiss grew deeper and his hands crept from her hips up to her hair, pulling her closer as he pressed against her, trapping her completely against the barrier.

Eventually, reluctantly, he pulled away laying his forehead against hers 

“I love you.” he said softly

“I love you too.” she replied

He looked over her shoulder at the rising sun and took a slight step back. “Tell the rest of ‘em to suit up, it’s time.”

In the meantime, he had his own suit to get. One which he’d been wearing the last time he took those fuckers down. And he was hoping, albeit probably in vain, that if he did encounter the Winter Soldier, it would jolt Buck’s memory about who he was.

“You gonna wear that?” she said, gesturing to his chinos and jacket, her eyebrow raised.

Steve looked at her with a smirk. "If you're gonna' win a war, you've gotta wear a uniform. He dropped a kiss to her head and took off at a run.

Katie smiled as she watched him knowing exactly where he was going.

*****

“Comms on 6…” Hill said as Steve, Sam and Katie jumped down from the SUV on the side of the Potomac to the Triskelion, not far from where the control operations were. Katie was holding the case that contained her suit in her right hand. She’d confessed to Sam that she’d only flown in it a few times, but Sam wasn’t too concerned and neither was Steve. Sam had promised to fly with her in tandem, and Steve trusted the man completely despite only having known him a number of days.

“Rogers, Hill…” Fury spoke in their ears “I’ll open ours as soon as it is safe to do so…” he paused. “Good luck.” They silently and quickly made their way down the side of the Potomac. The first task was to disrupt the comms and security surrounding the Launch Bunker so that no one would know they were arriving. A simple EMP did that.

And then, just as Steve was about to kick the door in to the main room, it opened.

The techy on the other side simply stared as he was confronted with the 4 of them. His eyes flickered first to Steve, then to the Katie and Mara who had their guns trained on him.

"Excuse us," Steve shot the tech a pointed look. He immediately held his hands up and stepped aside to let them enter with a nervous, slightly scared look on his face.

They stepped inside, looking around at the remaining 8 or so people in the bunker, all of whom immediately raised their hands.

“You got exactly 10 seconds to get the hell outta here…” Sam said, looking around. They didn’t need telling twice, several of them tripping over in their scramble to the door.

“Bit dramatic don’t you think?” Katie teased, as Sam shrugged, a grin spreading across his face as she dropped her case to the floor. Steve gently pushed past her towards the desk.

“Which one is it?” Steve was looking for the coms button which would project his voice around the Triskellion. Maria pointed to one of the buttons and mics on the desk in front of her, where she was sat, tapping at the computer.

Steve looked at Katie and licked his lips, somewhat nervously. He had given speeches before, but none like this.

“If there’s anyone that can make people understand it’s you.” Katie encouraged, and he nodded, taking a deep breath, before pushing the button, his voice suddenly amplifying as it filled every speaker in the building.

"Attention, all SHIELD agents. This is Steve Rogers. You've heard a lot about me over the last few days, some of you were even ordered to hunt me down. But I think it's time you know the truth. SHIELD is not what we thought it was, it's been taken over by Hydra. Alexander Pierce is their leader. The STRIKE and Insight crew are Hydra as well. I don't know how many more, but I know they're in the building. They could be standing right next to you. They almost have what they want: absolute control. They shot Nick Fury and it won't end there.” he took a pause before he continued “If you launch those Helicarriers today, Hydra will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way, unless we stop them. I know I'm asking a lot, but the price of freedom is high, it always has been, and it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not,"

He finished and took a deep breath as Katie smiled at him and Sam looked up.

"Did you write that down first, or was it off the top of your head?" he quipped.

Steve looked at him, trying to keep his face straight, before he turned to Maria who smiled, nodding at the screen.

“Alright, I’m in…” she said, before reaching into the briefcase and handing each of them one of the new targeting chips. “Get in, switch them over, get out.”

They all nodded and Katie bent over, pressing her fingers onto the security pad on the case containing her suit. As it sprang open she stepped forward, the metal pieces connecting and flowing over her body, the dark navy and gold suit forming around her before the face plate slid down.

“That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen…” Sam muttered, and Steve smiled. He’d only seen her in it once before when she had been running a test flight. Katie turned to Sam and although he couldn’t see her face, Steve knew from her tone she was grinning.

“You aint seen nothing yet Sammy…”

The three of them made their way around the banks of the river towards the triskelion, Sam and Steve running, Katie flying behind them at a low height. Suddenly, feeling the vibrations under his feet Steve skidded to a halt, Sam doing the same. Katie landed behind them, and looked down.

“What’s that?” she asked as the floor vibrated below them, retracting her face plate. ”JARVIS, gimme a scan…”

“Below the Potomac river is a hangar…” JARVIS said, his voice sounding in Steve’s ear too.  “And it looks like the doors are activated.” No sooner had he finished than Maria’s voice came over the comms "They're initiating the launch"

“Clearly your speech rattled them enough to bring it forward…” Katie said as the 3 of them headed to where the ground was opening and the Hellicarriers were launching.

“Hey Cap, how do we know the good guys from the bad guys?" Sam questioned as he ran.

"If they're shooting at you they're bad." Steve answered. Sam extended his wings and flew off after the highest Hellicarrier, while Steve jumped down onto the launching bay beginning to fight, Katie flying behind him, doing her best to clear out as many agents as she could

"Hey, Cap, I found those bad guys you were talking about," Sam suddenly reported.

"You alright?" Katie asked.

"Not dead yet," Sam answered

Together Katie and Steve fought their way across the bay, clearing as much of a path for Steve as possible, before Katie spiralled through the air and up towards the one she had been designated. Dodging fire easily as she went thanks to JARVIS’ evasion techniques, she landed with a clang on the deck.

“I’m in…” she said, before a barrage of bullets ricoched off her back. She turned, cocked my head to one side before she smirked.

“Hi fellas…” she said, firing up her repulsor beams and sending them their way, before shooting upwards once more towards the central control column.

"Falcon, status?" Maria demanded.

"Engaging," Sam reported, before a moment later "Alright, I'm in…oh,shit!” he cursed.

"Eight minutes," Maria warned

"Working on it," Steve’s reply was punctuated by a grunt.

When Katie’s carrier was clear, which didn’t take too long, there were nowhere near as many agents on this than there was on the other, she landed by the control panel and stepped out of her suit, chip in hand. Punching in the code Maria had given them, she swapped out the targeting disk and grinned as he pushed everything back into place.

"Alpha locked," she reported, stepping back into my suit.

"Falcon, where are you now?" Maria asked anxiously.

"I had to take a detour!" Sam’s voice was loud. Katie took off, bursting through one of the glass windows of the Alpha carrier to see Sam spiralling through the air, being shot at by Hydra missiles. She surged forward, shooting randomly, turning their attention to her as she twirled down towards the glass dome surrounding the next helicarrier before at the last moment going into a vertical climb upwards, meaning the beams hit the glass creating an entrance for Sam.

“Oh, honey you fly better than me!" Sam happily exclaimed and Katie chuckled as he dropped into the hole. A moment or two later he spoke again “Bravo locked," and he shot back out into the bright sky.

"Alright, that's two down. How's it coming, Cap?" Maria questioned

"Still working on it!" Steve repeated. And he was. He had no idea how he managed to end up on the damned carrier with the most agents on it but they just kept coming and coming, like a never ending swarm of ants. He kicked out, taking another one down with a huge roundhouse kick and felt a bite of frustration as Hill urged him on.

"Better step it up Cap." she said, then there was the sound of 2 gun shots before she spoke again “6 minutes”

It was then that Steve realised he was blocked in. Agents behind him and a quinjet was aiming at him from ahead. He had no alternative but to dive off the edge of the hellicarrier.

"Hey, Sam, Sweetheart…I'm gonna need a ride," Steve said easily as he fell through the air.

"Roger! Let me know when you're ready!" Sam answered easily.

"I just did!" he said, his voice remarkably calm for a man who was currently freefalling at a fast pace. Suddenly his arms were tugging upwards, and he was deposited back on the tarmac, Sam landing besides him.

"You know, you're a lot heavier than you look," Sam grunted and Katie laughed, firing at an agent that was left before she dropped down with a clang.

"Yeah, well, I had a big breakfast." Steve responded cheekily.

Sam was about to respond when suddenly a blur of black and silver flew out from behind a crate and tackled Steve off the edge of the helicarrier.

“Steve!” Katie yelled, immediately launching to go after him but something grabbed at her foot, crunching down.

“Right thruster is compromised…” JARVIS said, as whatever had gripped her suddenly let go and she looped in the air, trying to gain her balance with only one thruster. As she spun to look at her assailant she caught a glimpse of a metal arm grabbing at Sam’s wings, throwing him backwards.

Sam managed to stop his backwards momentum and started to shoot at him in response. Katie joined in with her repulsors and one of the weapon guns from her shoulder, the two of them forcing the Winter Solider to retreat.

“Steve…” she yelled into her comms, flying off the side unsteadily with the one boot working “JARVIS run scan…” “Captain Rogers is there by the port side…” he said, and to her relief she saw his heat signature pulling himself up at the side of the carrier. She turned, expecting to see Sam behind her but instead she saw the Winter Soldier charging forward and kicking him off the Helicarrier. Sam began to plummet, one of his wings not working so Katie dove after him, grabbed his arm and managed to land the pair of them, albeit rather un gracefully, on the roof of the Triskelion.

“Thanks…” he mumbled dusting himself off as Katie retracted my face plate

"Steve, are you okay?" Katie asked earnestly.

"I'm alright. I'm still on the helicarrier." Steve responded. "Where are you?"

“Triskellion roof.” She spoke.

"I'm grounded, the suit's down. Sorry, Cap." Sam sighed.

“Katie?”

“One of my thrusters is out.” she sighed, “I’m running on half capacity…but I can get up to you if I need to.”

"It’s okay, I've got it." Steve said “I’ll call if I need you.”

“Half capacity?” Sam looked at her.

“Have to channel double the power to the non-fucked boot!” she shrugged, holding it up “Or I fall…means everything else gets compromised.” “Huh…” “Tony’s working on it…” she muttered as they looked up at the 3 hellicarriers, her eyes falling on the one Steve was currently on. “He’s gonna come face to face with him…”

“Yeah…” Sam sighed “Maybe he can make him remember who he was.” “You don’t believe that any more than I do.”  Katie observed, glancing at the Sam. He shrugged.

"Falcon, Nova…" Hill called through the comms.

"Yeah?" Katie paused, talking as she still remained with her eyes locked on Sam’s.

"Rumlow's headed for the council."

"I’m on it." Sam responded, unzipping his vest and nodding to Katie. “You stay here, he might need you.”

“Roger, oh and Sam…” she called after him. He turned to her, jogging backward “Give Rumlow a kick in the balls for me, really hard.” Sam saluted, grinning, before he turned on his heels.

“Steve…”  Katie spoke in her coms, getting nothing but static.

“I can’t reach him.” Hill said, “And Charlie is still not locked. We're running out of time."

"I'm on it." Katie responded, taking off in the direction of the carrier.

“40% power… “ JARVIS instructed.

“Thanks J, can you run a heat scan, locate Captain Rogers…”

“Located… he is in the central area, near the control room…” JARVIS said, showing her the thermal image of 2 men going toe to toe, her stomach sinking. She surged forwards and flew through the glass of the control room just as Steve and the Winter Soldier fell over the edge of the platform they were fighting on.

They both landed hard but The Winter Soldier got up first, standing over Steve, metal arm gearing up to deliver another blow, but as he went to connect with Steve's face Katie blasted at him, landing in between him and Steve, sending him sprawling backwards.

“Katie…” Steve said, getting to his feet.

“Get to the control panel.” she yelled as the Winter Soldier came charging back at her “We don’t have much time…” As the metal armed assassin lunged at her she shot upwards, flipping in the air and sailing behind him, firing at his back. He flew forward but jumped immediately to his feet and fired his gun at her, the bullets bouncing off her suit. They continued this twisted dance until she got a little too close, and his metal arm gripped tight around her left gauntlet, the squeal of metal on metal rang out as he began to crush down with his fingers.

“Shit…” Katie mumbled, “JARVIS… full power.” “But Miss Stark…”

“Do it!” She fired the suped-up repulsor beams and it caused the winter soldier to fall hard backwards. As she wound up for another shot, she had just sent it his way only to see him pick up Steve’s shield using it to block her ray. It rebounded it straight at her, hitting the suit square in the chest and sending her straight through the glass windows of the carrier into the sky.

It took her a while to right herself, but eventually she flew back inside just as the solider stabbed Steve in the shoulder. Steve yelled, and head butted the man three times, which forced him to let go. As Steve turned to pull the knife from his shoulder Bucky made a grab for the targeting chip and Katie fired at him again, knocking him into one of the metal beams at the back of the carrier, his head making a horrible noise as it connected before he fell face down. Steve wasted no chance in grabbing the discarded chip and heading up to the control panel as she stood between him and the Winter Soldier.

“Systems are seriously compromised…” JARVIS told her. “If you continue using your repulsors the way you are, I fear you won’t have enough power to make it down…” “We’ll worry about that later J.” she said, as she looked up watching Steve

"One minute." Maria Hill spoke and she had barely finished when Katie heard the sound of a gunshot. She turned to see The Winter Soldier getting to his feet looking dazed but his metal arm held his gun aimed up at the control panel where Steve was still climbing. Clearly he was still out of it enough to miss, even a second time as another gunshot went off and Steve let out a yell, gripping at his thigh.

"Thirty seconds!" Maria said urgently.

As the assassin position himself and steady his gun taking aim, Katie flew forward, knocking into him just as he fired. The Winter Soldier landed on his back before Katie stood over him, one foot on his chest, in a last ditch attempt to buy Steve a bit more time. He grabbed at the leg of her suit, pulling it from under her and she crashed to the floor, the man’s metal armed rained blow after blow down on her suit, the glass eye holes cracking.

“Suit integrity is at 50% and falling…”JARVIS said and she did the only thing she could do. She fired her thruster causing her to shoot out from under his hold, colliding with a steel piece of the structure which send her ricocheting out of the side of the hellicarrier.

"Charlie locked." she heard Steve's strained voice as she continued to fall through the air, struggling to fire her boot back up again.

"Okay, get out of there." Maria spoke as Katie continued to plummet, JARVIS also speaking to her saying he was trying to stabilise her tumbling.

"Fire now." Steve demanded.

“NO!” Katie yelled as he boot suddenly kicked to life about 12 foot above the Potomac. She could hear Maria trying to argue too. But Steve wasn’t having any of it.

"Do it now." Steve yelled.

Maria’s sigh was heavy on the comms link but she did as she was told pushing the button that started the helicarriers firing at one another. The ships began to tear each other apart and as more shots hit the one that they were on the inside began to break apart.

“Steve… STEVE!” Katie yelled hovering unsteadily, only being able to use the one thruster. She instructed Jarvis to channel more power into it to keep her upright and then Sam’s frantic voice sounded in her ear.

"Please tell me there's someone in the air!" 

"Sam! Where are you?" Nat’s voice sounded and Katie took a deep breath.

"Forty first floor!" He yelled as he got closer to the window. "Northwest corner!"

"Stay where you are!" Nat instructed as Katie swooped up to find him.

"Not an option!"

Her scanners picked him up and Katie spotted the helicopter Fury was flying a few floors below where it was supposed to be. She flew as fast as she could to grab Sam as he jumped out of the window of the collapsing building, catching him and tossing him into the helicopter flying in herself.

"Forty first floor!" Sam yelled as Katie retracted her helmet "Forty first!"

"It's not like they put the floor numbers on the outside of the building!" Fury yelled back.

"Hill, where's Steve?" Natasha asked. "You got a location on Rogers?"

“He was on Charlie…” Katie said, looking over, swallowing. “That’s the one that hit the building…”

*****

On the carrier Steve had tried to make him remember, just one final time, remember who he was. It didn’t work. The man with Bucky’s face tackled him to the floor and he landed on his back against a fallen bar, head dangling off the edge. He was anchored by the assassin’s legs around his waist and the tight hold of his uniform with his flesh hand. The man looked at him, hatred etched in every line on his face and it broke Steve's heart. What had HYDRA done to him to make him this way? They had turned his friend, his brother, against him and there was nothing he could do but try and remind him of his life before. And then came the blows from the metal arm, raining down on his face.

With every punch that landed, along with the agony, memories flashed across Steve's line of sight – some of them to do with Bucky, bailing him out of a fight in an alley behind a movie theatre. Punch. A Thanksgiving with the Barnes family. Punch. Games of cards in the army camp. Punch. But the ones that came more vividly were of his girl. The way her face scrunched up when she laughed. Punch. The black dress she wore on their first date. Punch. The way they lay tangled in one another after making love, her hand threading through his hair. Punch. The way she looked at him when she thought he wasn't paying attention - like he was the best thing that ever happened to her.

He loved her. He loved her so much it hurt.

"You're my mission!" Bucky screamed out. Steve’s vision was blurry, his face was throbbing in pain; he was beaten, he knew that. But he just wanted Bucky to know how much he meant to him.

"Then finish it." Steve gasped out, pausing in an effort to get his breath back, "Cause I'm with you, till the end of the line."

He could've sworn he saw something in the man’s face shift. His eyes became wider, like he was panicking at the phrase. The metal fist was raised up high, but didn't move from its position. His chest rose and fell rapidly as his eyes softened, just slightly, and the metal arm lowered out of the wind-up. But before he could do anything else, a massive piece of steel from the helicarrier broke off. It crashed against the beam that Steve was up against. And then he was falling, as Bucky managed to hang on to the beam with his metal arm, a sick, twisted reversal of the incident seventy years ago when Steve had watched as Bucky fell into the snowy canyon below.

He plunged into the icy water of the Potomac, the light gradually growing darker, and darker as he sank further into the depth. It was a peaceful way to die, he supposed, after the brutality of the fight. And as his vision went, the last thing he saw was his girl’s face and the fact he was leaving her behind broke him just that little bit more.

I love you Doll, I love you.

*****

Katie engaged her helmet again and took off from the helicopter, flying alongside it for a short while as it circled the outside of the hellicarrier.

“JARVIS, you got anything?” she said, surging forward, but as she spoke her scanners locked onto Steve, where he was lay on the floor of the carrier, the Winter Soldier raining blows upon blows down at him, and he wasn't fighting back.

“What have we got left in the tank?” she asked desperately.

“25% power.”

“Should be enough…” she said, spiralling upwards towards them “Put everything we have into my thrusters.”

“Miss Stark…”

“Just do it…” she yelled.

She felt the power surge as she shot upwards but as she went, her scanners trained on them both, Steve she was hit by something falling from above and was sent crashing down through the floor of the carrier and then her repulsors cut out.

“Emergency back-up power…” JARVIS spoke as her suit fired up again, giving her just enough time to level out before she went head first into the Potomac. She weaved her way through the falling debris under the surface avoiding it before she shot upwards again, but there was no sign of Steve or the Winter Soldier.

“Miss Stark you need to land…”

“Yeah I know…” she said her voice cracking slightly “But I have to find Steve…”

In desperation she circled around the river, “Any sign?” she asked into the coms.

“Nothing.” Hill said “His suit doesn’t have a tracker…”

“Come on…” she mumbled, hovering in mid-air, her suit stuttering slightly. “JARVIS hit the scans again.”

“Running…” he muttered and she watched before the display locked onto him. He was quarter of a mile or so out from the Triskellion…and the Winter Soldier was pulling him out of the water onto the river bank.

With her last bit of remaining power she flew to them, landing behind the Winter Soldier. He immediately spun round but this time Katie saw fear in his eyes. They weren’t steely or dead like they had been before, instead they sparkled with emotion. For that reason she took a deep breath and stepped out of her suit, hands held up in a conciliatory manner.

“Bucky…” she spoke gently, glancing behind him to where Steve lay motionless on the bank. She bit back the panic in her throat at the site of him hurt and unconscious before she focussed on the man in front of her.

“Who are you?” his voice was deep and he looked at her. This was good, he wasn’t attacking. Taking a shaky breath she took one step forward and he instantly grew defensive and she stopped, shaking her head.

“It’s ok, my name’s Katie…I’m Steve’s girlfriend. You know Steve, right?”

His chest heaved, his eyes widened and for a split second she thought he was going to come towards her. Instead he stood to the side letting her get a full view of her man before nodding towards her.

"Get help." He said to her gruffly before turning and running.

“I’ve got him…” Katie spoke into her coms as she scrambled over to Steve, stumbling as she ran “South West bank, clearing in the trees…look for the sign…”

At that she shouted to JARVIS  “Supernova Protocol…” before she dropped to her knees next to Steve, hearing her suit shoot upwards before it exploded with a bang. Her heart stopped for a second as she looked down at her man, letting out a sob as she noticed his chest was rising and falling slowly, the only sign he was alive. His face was badly beaten, his right eye almost completely closed. There was the knife wound on his shoulder, several deep cuts to his face, but it was the gunshot wound to the middle of his abdomen that worried her most. It was bleeding heavily. She pressed one hand to the wound to stem, her other stroking his battered face…

*****

Steve realised he wasn’t dead. He felt like it, god the pain, but there was a familiar voice, a familiar touch, one heavy on his abdomen, the other stroking his sore, battered face.

“Shh…its’ ok” she said. It was her. He tried to speak but she shushed him, “Baby I’m here.”

“Katie…” he opened his eyes, looking at her, those beautiful green eyes, and he realised he wasn’t ready to go. He didn’t want to go, not when she was here. The thought of leaving her behind, when they had so much to look forward to, a future, made him start to panic.

“You’re going to be fine…” she said. He believed her, but man he was so tired, and the pain. His eyes shut.

******

Katie sat back, hand still pressed to the wound and looked across the Potomac. Pieces of the helicarrier were still falling, splashing into the river. She had no idea how long she waited, it can’t have actually been that long, but it felt like ages as she simply sat, hand clamped over Steve’s abdomen, listening to the sirens ringing loud through the air as emergency responders got closer. In an odd way, it was all proof they had won. But at what cost? 

She heard footsteps behind her and instantly wheeled to see Fury stood barking orders to 4 men following him with a stretcher, but she couldn’t really hear him. She stood up, moved back, in somewhat of a daze, to allow them access to Steve but once he was loaded onto the gurney she moved back to his side, taking his hand.

They emerged from the bank, and another medic made to drop a blanket round her, but she shrugged him off, her hand still round Steve’s until she had to let go as they loaded him into the ambulance which was parked in the clearing near the chopper.

“He’s gonna be fine…” Sam said as he appeared besides her, dropping an arm round her shoulders as she watched them anchor the stretcher in place. The paramedic inside the ambulance gestured to her, and she climbed in without so much as a glance back.

Tags

@the-omni-princess

@momobaby227

@geekofmanythings 16

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Boy in Luv

Oneshot based on this request

Yoongi x reader

Warnings: reader as 8th member, strong language, bit of angst, bit of fluff. You knooowwww the usual fun stuff from me lol

A/n: Alrighty so this was written as gender neutrally as I could possibly make it, just to sort of experiment once again with the idea. It was waayyy harder this time around than the last one for whatever reason...probably because I put a lot of my own personality into the reader character. So yea, the internal monologue? Totes something I would be thinking in x situation rofl. Anyway,  I hope you guys like it. If you do drop a like or a comment or reblog to share with your friends. Please do because I just love the feedback and it lets me know you guys enjoy my stories as much as I do~

It was supposed to be simple. Hobi’s dance break just before my intro verse, and just before I start rapping I was supposed to do a front flip over him and that would segue us  into my verse. Simple right?

Of course it was simple. I’d done it dozens of times before.

So…”Could somebody explain to me why y/n is sitting here with a fractured ankle?” Bang PD-nim...is not happy. I stared down at the cast encasing the entire lower half of my leg, from mid calf  right on down to immobilize the ankle.

Shame burned in my cheeks and I couldn’t even meet his furious gaze. “I’m sorry Boss.” My voice came out at a bare whisper but I knew he’d heard me. He hears everything. That’s why he’s the boss.

He sighed, coming over to sit beside me and pat me gently on the shoulder. “I know you are. And I don’t blame you. You couldn’t have known they’d spilled wax in that one particular spot that you just so happened to have flipped onto. But somebody should have known. Somebody should have warned you all before practice.” He pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve some of the headache I could tell was already forming.

“Better a fractured ankle than a broken neck huh?” I attempted to play the situation off with a bit of humor, flashing Mister Boss Man with one of my signature sweet smiles and it seemed to work.

His shoulders relaxed and he huffed out a chuckle “Well you’re not wrong. Alright…” he nodded, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention as he stood. “Jungkook-ah. Have you and Jimin-ah gotten that hat trick down?”

Jimin and Jungkook’s eyes both widened as they realized what was being asked of them.

“Wait...you...you want me??” Jimin pointed at himself, just about on the verge of tears.

“Oh come on Jiminie.” I pipped in, knowing exactly what the issue was. “You’re the one who helped me perfect the flip. Don’t tell me you’re afraid to jump over Hobi are you?” I smirked, a teasing lilt to my voice now. “Or are you not man enough to do something that little old me can do?”

Oh that did it. A fire blazed in Jimin’s eyes as he stood up straight, saluting Bang PD-nim. “We can do it Sir. Don’t worry we’ll take y/n’s place.”

The boss chuckled, waving him off. “It’s just for the promo and music video. Once y/n’s ankle is healed the choreo is going back to the way it was before. Now go get cleaned up, we’ve got an episode of Rookie King to film.”

The group groaned, though good naturedly of course. We love filming the little videos for ARMY, but the boys loved giving Bang Pd-nim a hard time even more. And so the complaints filled the room, ranging from exaggerated exhaustion to crippling feigned hunger, though for the bottomless pit that was our Golden Maknae the hunger was more than likely very real.

“Ya! Children!” Bang PD-nim shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If I knew working with you all would mean becoming a father in everything but name alone I’d have opened a flower shop instead.”

I pouted, tugging at his sleeve and giving him my most pitiful face. “You don’t mean that do you Poppa Nimmy?”

He cringed, shivering before giving off a booming laugh that filled the room. “Alright that’s enough.” He said, pretending to wipe a tear away. “Jungkook-ah, make sure once you’ve showered to get y/n back to the dorms. Namjoon-ah and Hoseok-ah make sure to check in with the producers, I think they wanted to talk to you both about one of the tracks.”

The boys nodded and began to disperse, going to their respective tasks or heading back to the dorms for their showers. Since I knew it would be a bit before Kookie came back to help me back upstairs I decided to scroll through my phone, going straight to fancafe to check on how ARMY was doing.

As I scrolled through the comments on the latest selfie on my profile, someone walked up to stand over me. Their shadow cast over the screen of my phone and when I looked up my heart skipped several beats and left me breathless.

“Do you need anything?” Yoongi’s gaze was intense as he stared down at me. My cheeks blazed so intensely with heat that I immediately ducked my head down to stare at my phone.

Nooo...this can’t happen right now. I can’t face him after fracturing my stupid ankle and crying like a little bitch baby because of it. I stared down at my phone, mentally reliving the look of horror he’d given me when he’d seen me laying on the ground, rapidly swelling ankle in hand.

There’s no way he could even halfway respect me after that… I can’t face him. Can’t talk to him. OMG please Yoongi leave before I start crying from shame again.

“Hey, spacecase. You still with me?”He crouched down before me, trying to catch a glimpse of my face. Quickly I shook my head, wiping at the tears that’d threatened to spill.

“Woah,hey don’t cry again. It’s alright there’s no shame in getting hurt.” He gently reached up and wiped the tears away.

Yoongi just touched my cheek….

HE TOUCHED ME!!!

Okay, seriously y/n play it cool or he’s gonna find out he’s affecting me and there’s no way I’m ever living that down.

“Sorry, I’m fine…” I sniffed and ducked my head out of his reach.

He frowned, sitting back on his heels and scanning my face. I flashed him a smile, trying hard to cover my embarrassment.

“I’m fine I promise, Opp...hyung. Go on, get your shower in before the show starts. Kookie will be back soon to take me to the dorm so don’t worry about me okay?”

Oh my god did I really almost call him Oppa? End me now universe, bury me beneath the building. Throw me in the trash where I belong.

He didn’t exactly look like he believed that I was alright, but being the sweetheart that he is he didn’t push the issue any farther.

“Alright. But if you need anything…”

“I know hyung, I’ll call if I need anything.”

He nodded and stood, sparing me one last worried glance before heading out.

30 minutes of waiting and a trip to the dorms on Jungkook’s back and I’m finally back at the dorms, snuggled safely into a pile of blankets on the living room sofa with my laptop in my lap and a giant macchiato from Starbucks that Hobi had so kindly gotten me.

“Those boys are the best.”I sighed,clicking open the video I’d last been watching. An episode of Rookie King that I’d missed out on a few weeks ago due to some interviews I’d had to go on.

“The winner is….Second Class! Bangtan’s Charming Guy Bachelor Jimin!”

“Ya! No fair Yoongi Oppa should have won that!!!” I shouted at the screen as Jimin stood up and took a bow. Shocked I quickly glanced around the room, just to make sure I was actually alone. Heavens forbid one of the guys actually heard that...I would never...in a million years….live that down.

***

“Hobi-ssi what are you up to?” Namjoon wandered over, sitting next to the younger man and leaning over to glance at his phone. The filming crew happened to be on a break and Hoseok had decided to check on their injured member to ensure y/n’s safety.

“Checking on y/n...what is even going on here?” Hoseok watched as the injured member seemed to be screaming at the poor innocent laptop screen. He had the volume muted on the security camera so wasn’t exactly sure what was being said, but the antics in themselves was definitely cause for hilarity.

“What’s going on is right...” Namjoon said, concern filling him as he pulled up the footage on his own phone in order to see the feed a bit clearer.

“That’s rude! Have some respect!!!”

“Did you manage to get the sound on?” Hoseok asked, leaning over to glance at Namjoon’s  phone screen.

“Yea, is that the rant episode y/n missed a few weeks ago?”Namjoon asked.

“I think so, sounds like it anyway.”

“What’s up?” Taehyung wandered over, having been drawn by the sound of yelling and the look of horror on Namjoon’s face.”Is that y/n yelling at a video?”

“It is, Jimin, Jungkook, Yoongi, come here you guys have got to see this.”

***

I grabbed my coffee, taking a sip from it as I watched the punishment unfold.

“Yasssss Hobi, work that lipstick boi.” I snickered, watching as Tae stared on in horror.

“Nah Tae Tae, it’s over, just accept your fate and let it happen boo. We all want this, you know you want this. Look at that smile. Ya’ll he so ready!”

Wincing I rubbed the cast on my leg, remembering  the look of horror on the guy’s faces as I lay on the ground crying in pain. I shook my head to clear the mental image away and focused back on the show.

***

“Ya! Y/n you traitor! I was severely traumatized by that!” Taehyung yelled, his indignation only further solidified by the kissy faces Hoseok made in his direction.

The group was crowded around Namjoon and Hoseok, staring at the phone screens in amusement as they watched the dramatic scene unfold before their eyes. They’d never seen this side of y/n. The normally quiet and shy member seemed so animated and happy watching the show in seeming peace and solitude.

Yoongi meanwhile had finally decided to wander over, having finished an over the phone discussion with one of their producers about conflicting vocals on one of their tracks.

“Hey hyung, look y/n’s talking about you!”

His eyes widened in curiosity as Jimin and Jungkook made room for him to be able to see the screen.

***

“No no no! VHope! Stay in your lane! I’m trying to stay loyal to Yoongi Oppa!” I squealed, burying my face into one of the couch cushions and squealing out a rush of giggles so intense  I’m pretty sure I teared up a little.

Grabbing my laptop before it fell to the floor I switched over to youtube, clicking open my saved playlist before taking another sip of coffee.

“Aiyoo, Oppa...where did it go?” I grinned in triumph before clicking open a compilation video of Yoongi’s savage moments.

“Yassss savage Daddy, slaayyy.”

***

Yoongi’s eyes widened at the audio coming from the phone’s tiny speakers.

“Did she just call hyung...Daddy?” Jungkook and Taehyung stared at each other in shock. The others were so busy clutching their guts and laughing that they’d been unable to hear anything other than their own mirth.

“Guys, come on shut it off.” Hoseok was the only one concerned with y/n’s privacy at this point as he tried to take the phones back from the younger boys.

“Oh no! No way! I’ve finally got dirt on y/n you are not taking this moment away from me.” Jungkook snagged Namjoon’s phone from him, setting it to record the screen before racing away. Namjoon chased after, threatening all types of bodily harm should anything happen to his phone.

Yoongi stood there, staring at the floor in concentration as he wondered how this new information affected him. Really? Y/n liked him?

And it seemed like more than a crush from the way y/n kept sighing and scrolling through pictures of them together, taken by fans during concerts and meet and greets. He’d never actually seen y/n in that sort of light, picturing them as just another member of the group for him to look after and keep out of trouble. But...how did he feel?

***

Three weeks later

***

I can’t believe they’re actually making me sit for the concert... The managers had said it would look worse if I actually missed it rather than sitting off to the side with my stupid cast and singing my lines along with the others.

The fans missed me apparently. And Jimin never failed to visit me to show off the well wishes and messages of love that our precious ARMY kept sending my way on the fan cafe. So yea...I guess I’m stuck in this stupid chair, my leg propped up on a cushion and I’m well out of the way of the boys so that they don’t trip over me or knock me off my perch during their choreography.

There were a few times were, looking out over the crowd and seeing all their smiling and hopeful faces where all I’d wanted was to disappear, the shame of my injury bothering me more than I wanted to let on to the other members.

I’d try to hide my tears,but one among them saw them, saw my shame, and though I didn’t notice, when there was a break in the songs or a skit had to be done, Yoongi was always right there by my side, trying to get me to smile or make sure I was included.

“Y/n!!! Y/n!!!! Y/n!!!!” ARMY is chanting my name.

My heart soars with joy as Jimin hands me my crutches. I limp to the main stage and Tae sets my chair down before helping me back into it. I smile my thanks but...something’s off…

I squint at him and he flashes me the most mischievous grin I think I’ve ever seen on his face.

“What are you boys up to?” I hiss to him, but he just shrugs and flounces off to stand beside Kookie.

“ARMY!” Namjoon shouts into his mic and the crowd screams in joy.

“So, we all know that our dear little y/n was injured a couple of weeks ago yea?” Hobi asks and everyone awws. There’s shouts of ‘Get better soon’ and ‘We still love you’ echoing through the air.

“Yes, yes we all know it’s such an awful thing that happened, and really, it’s given us some knew insight as to the personality of one of our favorite dancers.” Jin grins over at me.

“Ya! I thought I was your favorite dancer?” Jimin acts all hurt and the crowd laughs at his antics.

“Nah we all know y/n is the best dancer we’ve got. If it weren’t for y/n Bangtan wouldn’t be here don’t ya know.” Jungkook screeches as Hobi and Jimin both begin to chase him around the stage.

“Boys...boys that’s not the point.” Tae snags Jungkook around the neck, allowing Jimin and Hobi to smack his arm before returning to their places on stage.

“What exactly IS the point?” I ask into the mic, meeting Yoongi with a questioning gaze. His only answer is a shrug as he quickly looks away, but not before  I see the brush of blush dusting his cheeks.

“Well you see...our dorms are set up with security cameras…”

I think my heart just stopped…

No...wait...still beating…

I think…

There’s no way they actually caught me right?

“Oh but we did y/n and frankly, I’m hurt.” Jin clutches his chest in feigned pain.

Shit, did i say that out loud???

“Here I thought I would be your bias. I’m worldwide handsome!” Jin strikes a pose, his thumb and index finger forming a v beneath his chin while he flashes ARMY his signature smile.

“No way hyung, I should have been y/n’s bias. I’m the golden maknae!” Jungkook drops to the ground, pushing his lower body into the air before grinding down onto the stage and hopping back to his feet again.

“Guys omg what are you even talking about??” I huff out a nervous chuckle, my eyes dancing around the stage, looking from the crowd to the curtains that lead backstage, anything other than looking at Yoongi and risking giving myself away.

“Can we like...talk about ANYTHING else???”

“No no we have to discuss!” Tae jumps in, wrapping an arm around me and grinning out at the audience.

“You see ARMY. Y/n has been hiding a massive secret from all of us.”

“Yes yes! A secret!”  Jin dances around the stage, hooking his arm with Tae as they both shout, “Secret!Secret! Secret!”

“Guys please! I don’t have a secret!!!” I hide my face in my hands, the heat of embarrassment so strong I know for a fact that even the people in the back can probably feel it.

“Oh?” Namjoon quirks an eyebrow and waves to the giant screen behind us. “Then could you explain this?”

The screen flashes on, showing a still image of me sitting on the dorm sofa just a few short weeks ago, laptop open and a picture of Yoongi clearly shown on the screen.

“Oh...god...end me now…” I try to get up from the chair but Jimin and Hobi trap me, standing to either side of me with a firm hand on each of my shoulders.

“Hyung! Is that you?” Hobi glances over his shoulder to Yoongi, who shyly nods but is refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

“This isn’t fair! Why did it have to be Yoongi hyung??” Tae demands, walking past in front of me and dramatically sighing.

“Why wouldn’t it be Yoongi hyung? He’s dashing and cool and all around he makes such a great…” Namjoon nods to the video and it begins to play.

“Oppa!” The sound of my squealing voice echoes through the room and all chaos breaks loose.

ARMY echoing the word and cheering and screaming that they ship it, they approve. There’s a ship name already?? What even has my life come to.

I want to melt into the floor, disappear like mist in the morning sun. There’s a ringing in my ears so loud it almost drowns out the next words that I hear.

“You know...I kind of like it…”

“What was that Yoongi-hyung?” Hobi steps aside, allowing Yoongi to move closer before staring shyly at the ground.

“I said…” He looks up, finally meeting my eyes. His gaze is focused solely on me and it’s so intense that I can’t look away. There is no ARMY. There is no Bangtan. Only us in this moment.

“I kind of like the sound of y/n-gi….It’s got a nice ring to it.”

[miaiplier]

Please never again

(Teamiplier x sister!reader)

Request: Could you do another version of “Not In My House” where there’s a bit more angst? I really like how you wrote that, and the idea of it, and think it’d be super cool to see where you took an angsty form of it.

A/N: I had a lot of fun with this thanks for the request noonie.

Not In My House

“You’re not going and that’s FINAL!” Mark yelled obviously completely done with this argument. He never lost his cool so him yelling was rare. “I hate you.” You spat out with menace in your tone, you stomped towards your room and slammed the door. Quickly wiping any angry tears that slid down your cheeks you texted your friend telling them the plan for the night. You were still going to that party even if you had to sneak out. You ignored Mark’s meager attempts at trying to talk to you and get you out of the room. He sighed obviously exasperated at the attempt and left you alone after a few hours.

When you heard Mark’s friends come through the door it didn’t stop you. You had already made up your mind, and once you got the text from your friend you were ready. Dressed for the night you snuck out through the window ignoring any chat they had downstairs, obviously asking about you. You quickly ran to your friend's car and speed off. With no care in the world.

It had been a few hours and as Mark and his friends realized how late it had gotten, Amy decided to check on you. She quietly walked up the stairs and knocked a soft knock on your empty bedroom door. “Hey (N/N), it’s Amy you wanna come join us?” She asked and awaited a response. Receiving none, she knocked again a little louder. When that didn’t work she decided to crack open the door which was unlocked. As she peered into the dark room to see a lumpy form in the covers, she assumed you were asleep and shut the door. “She’s asleep,” Amy stated as she sat back down next to Mark. With a nod, he turned his attention back to the movie on the screen. Another hour passed before Mark got a call from an unknown number. He answered after it had called insistently many times. With an exasperated sigh, he answered “Hello” “Hello is this Mark Fischbach?” A woman on the phone asked. “Yes this is him,” he said with a confused look as the crew looked at him mirroring the same expression. “This is a nurse from Thomason Emergency.” She said “we’re calling in regards to your sister (Y/N) since you are her legal guardian. She’s been in an accident and is badly injured.” The woman continued and Mark’s stomach dropped a look of horror dawning on his face. “What, what kind of accident, how bad?” He rambled. “A three-way collision from a drunk driver, she is in surgery but you are needed here.” The woman’s voice spoke, “Oh god, I thought she was home.” He mumbled as he wiped his face. And avoided looking at any of the crew's panicked stares. “I know this is very scary to hear sir, but it’s very important that you are here right away.” The voice sympathized, he nodded meekly as he answered a quick “I’m on my way. Thank you.” And hung up quickly getting up to grab his things. “I have to go,” Mark mumbled and began leaving the room. The friends shared a look and got up quickly from their seats. “What happened?” Tyler said trying to get Mark to calm down for a few seconds to explain. “It’s (Y/N).” He said as he searched for his wallet and keys. “What do you mean? (Y/N) is upstairs.” Ethan jumped in. “No, she snuck out,” Mark said with a panicked look. “She got into an accident and she’s hurt bad.” Mark stated as he had finally found his keys. “I have to leave,” Mark said as he made his way to the door. “Wait let us come with,” Amy said and grabbed his hand. A pleading look on her face. Mark who wasn’t thinking straight wiggled out of her hold. “Meet me at Thompson emergency.” He said and ran off leaving them with a worried stare as they too piled into the car and drove behind him.

Mark had sat for what felt like hours in that small and cramped chair, waiting for any slight news. He felt the fear bottling up in his chest and he bounced his leg up and down quickly, not being able to sit still. Amy sat next to him with a hand intertwined with his. She shared a look of worry, they all did. Mark’s worry had reached high levels and his guilt stepped in too. He recalled the last thing you had told him after the fight and he began to think you actually meant it. He hadn’t realized that tears were falling down his face till Amy began rubbing circles with her thumb on his hand. No one had talked for a long time, and as Mark continuously paced around the room it felt like hours had gone by. When the doctor finally came in and explained the results and situation. Mark’s heart lifted a bit. As the doctor explained that the surgery went well and there was no internal bleeding mainly head trauma and that you’d be out for a while because of heavy sedation, Mark felt himself sigh and let Tyler and Amy handle the questions. The doctor stated only one person was allowed to stay with you and Mark of course quickly nodded. He stepped in as and his heart dropped. The wires and many bandages wrapped around any cuts and deep gashes filled his heart with dread. “Oh God (N/N).” He sighed out and quickly sat next to you, taking your hand into his. New tears flowed down his cheeks and he sniffled. “I’m sorry (N/N), I’m so sorry.” He rambled. He kissed your head and sat there by your side for the whole night. He tried sleeping in that small non-reclining chair, but his mind couldn’t stop racing.

It was another few hours that lead up to the early afternoon when you woke up. A strangled groan being the first thing that left your lips as Mark quickly reacted with a panicked and relieved look. “Hey bug, hey you’re okay” he reassured and smiled a little. “Ma-Mark?” You asked with a confused look. He looked so awful with dark bags under his eyes and greasy disheveled hair. “What happened?” You asked and looked around noticing the tubes in your left arm. And the bandages wrapped around your arm. The dull ache from you head was still there and the bright light hurt your eyes. “You were in a car accident (N/N),” Mark said with a look of sadness in his eyes. “I almost lost you…” he mumbled and brought you into a crushing hug. “I’m sorry.” You breathed out. “It’s fine I forgive you, I’m just so glad you’re okay.” He sighed out and his hand cradled your head as he kissed your forehead. When it was finally visiting hours the crew piled in excited to hear that you were okay and on the road to recovery. They came bearing so many gifts from a bear to balloons and candy. Amy hugged you quickly “you nearly gave me a heart attack (N/N).” She said and kissed your head. The guys gave you another round of strong hugs or more like holds. And Kathryn came and smiled at you. “I’m so happy you’re okay. You had us all scared to death.” She said and hugged you. “I’m so sorry guys” you mumbled tearing up a bit. They ignored the mistakes and grief, focused on the now. The present, that you were going to be alright. Mark stayed at the hospital and didn’t leave for a good while till you forced him to shower. He fussed over you profusely insistent that you wouldn’t leave his sight ever again (not that you were planning on sneaking out ever again). And the team visited every day staying as long as they could. Mistakes were made but you were learning from them. And Mark and the entire group would be there for you.

[lorilane33]

Let Me Help Pt. 1

Summary: AU where you grew up with the Winchesters because your dad was John’s best friend. After they die on a hunt, Dean spirals into self-hate. You can’t take it so you take off. Sam helps keep you grounded through texts/phone calls, also keeping it from Dean. Four years later, you are a counselor for civilians during the day and run a side business for hunters when your past comes back to haunt you. ( I REALLY SUCK AT SUMMARIES. I apologize for that!)

Word Count: 1,433

Pairing: Sam x Reader (friendship/practically siblings), Dean x Reader 

Warnings: angst. Right after John dies timeframe. Fluff. 

A/N: Okayyyy. So. Back when I still thought I wanted to get my masters in counseling I was talking with @dustycelt one night and this brilliant idea came to be between the two of us.  A story about the reader hating the fact that Dean couldn’t handle the death of his dad in a healthy way and her leaving to get her degree in counseling so she can help those who also need help. I give Steff tons of the credit for this because we sort of co-wrote it. We hashed out all of the details (summary for me is 1,000+) together and then I kind of went off and started writing it. SO THANK YOU SO MUCH STEFF!!!!! Tags at the end

Let Me Help Master List

(this photo found: @winchestersdeans)

2006

Your dad drove swiftly through the night aiming to arrive at the motel before sunrise. John Winchester had called the night before saying he had a case and needed some backup. This actually wasn’t the first time John had called asking for your daddy’s help. Many times throughout your eighteen years your dad would get a call and within the day you were waving goodbye to him and John from the doorway of some skeevy motel room, watching as the taillights on John’s truck faded in the distance.

You and the Winchester boys, Sam and Dean, had  become friends this way. Finding company in each other until your fathers returned. The three of you had become good friends, and you loved both of them to the ends of the earth. Sam was like the twin brother you didn’t know you wanted, and he was one of your best friends. On the other hand, the elder Winchester had always held your attention in a much different way. You had always cared about Dean more than you cared to admit, but you never let on that you had feelings for him. He could always make you laugh, and he always thought of other people when making decisions which you always admired about him.

This time was no different. Sam, Dean and yourself had long lost interest in watching their taillights fade though. You hugged your dad goodbye from inside the motel room as John loaded up the Impala.

“Bye, Daddy, you and John be safe, okay? Come back in one piece,” you told your dad as you felt him squeeze you close.

He kissed the top of your head before responding, “You know we will, sweetheart. It’s just a routine wendigo. We’ll be back before you know it.” He let go of you, and opened the door to leave, “love you, princess. See you soon.” And with that, the door was closed. If only you’d known that that would be the last time you ever saw your dad.

A few days later, you were toweling your hair dry after a shower when you heard Dean on his phone behind you.

“Hey, Bobby, what’s new?” You felt something shift in the air as Dean listened to Bobby’s response.

Only hearing one side of the conversation, Dean continued, “Wh-what? You sure?” you turned around to face Dean, and saw that his face was white as a sheet.

“You’re absolutely positive?” Another pause, “yeah, she’s here. Yes, sir. I’ll be sure and let her know.”

You walked over to Dean, his eyes glazed over. “Dean? Is everything okay? What did Bobby say?”

“Y/n, Bobby called to… he, uhh..,” He looked at you with tears in his eyes, “Y/n… both our dads are gone. They were killed by the wendigo. I’m so sorry,” Your eyes filled with tears and your brain didn’t register anything past your dad being gone. Dean stood up and pulled you into his arms as you both cried. There nothing that could be said to make it all right.  

Eight months later

The three of you come stumbling into your motel room, worn and weary from the case. Your original findings showed that it was just a simple salt and burn, but when you three showed up it turned out to be much harder than you anticipated.

You walk up to the sink and turn on the water to start washing some of the grime off your face when you hear the boys’ groans of pain as they maneuver themselves onto the beds. Wincing, Sam looks at you and chuckles dryly, “Man, who would have thought those spirits would be such a pain in the ass? I thought for sure it was gonna be easy.”

“Sam, since when has anything ever been easy for us?” You hear Dean snap as he holds his hand to his bruised ribs, “we shouldn't have screwed up like that. We could have been killed.”

Your brow furrows in confusion and hurt when you see the anger flash across his eyes, “What are you talking about, Dean? We did our research; everything we looked up said it was a salt and burn. We had no way of knowing just how bad it was going to be. We did the best we could.”

“No, we should have known that we needed backup. We were stupid! That spirit threw Sammy through the wall, and nearly killed you! That's a lie and you know it Y/n. You know we could have done better. We SHOULD have done better.” You can see that he's pissed; his eyes are gleaming with a rage just simmering under the surface, and he's obviously beating himself up for the hunt going wrong.

Suddenly Sam jumps in, cutting things off before they can escalate further, “Dean! Y/n is right. We did a good job tonight. We may have underestimated him, but we still got the job done and we’re all alive and better off for it. Getting injured is part of the territory, and you know that. Maybe we did need some backup. We’ll just work on finding someone we can call for those situations since we can't call our dads anymore.” With a slight pause, Sam lets that sink in for the three of you and then continues with a sad smile, “it would be so nice if we could call them, wouldn't it? They'd have backed us up without question.”

Dean’s pent up anger suddenly makes itself known. He turns on Sam and rips into him, “Are you  kidding me?! You’re taking her side, Sammy? I can’t believe that you would even think about--”

Sam reaches out and roughly grabs Dean by the front of his jacket, “Dean! I’m not siding with her, man. I’m just saying-”

“There’s no middle ground here, Sam. Either you are with me, or you’re with her! YOU ALMOST GOT YOURSELF KILLED.”

“Dean, if you’d just listen to me! I understand that you’re pissed, okay?! We all are! But yelling at us isn’t going to bring Dad back! It’s not going to change what happened.”

“It shouldn’t have been them! I should have been the one to take that case instead of him. It should have been me that died! I can’t just sit here when it’s not okay! It’ll never be okay.”

If watching the Winchesters fighting over how dangerous the hunt was isn’t enough to break you, then hearing Dean carrying on about how it should have been him dying instead of John sure was. You’d been crushing on the eldest Winchester for as long as you could remember. He’d always taken special care of you when your dads were hunting. He’d give you some of his food, let you hog the blanket when you shared a bed, and he had even let you take showers first sometimes. Dean had always been there for you, and the way he would look at you with those piercing green eyes always made you feel safe and loved.

His one fatal flaw was that he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders; he always felt that he was the one responsible for all the lives of the people he loved, and that broke you. You couldn’t take how he was so angry with himself over the death of your two fathers. You couldn’t take how he kept feeling like he shouldn’t be the one alive.

You can’t take it anymore; he’s going to go off and kill himself at the rate he’s going.

Before you could second guess your thoughts, you were standing and across the room messily piling things into your bag. With tears in your eyes you turned around and faced the two brothers. “Dean, your brother’s right. Yelling and carrying on isn’t going to solve a damn thing, and you tearing yourself apart because of John dying isn’t either! I’m done. I’m not going to sit here and watch you self-destruct.”

As Sam and Dean stood dumbfounded, processing your words, you took the opportunity to turn and walk out the door, leaving them behind and not looking back. Your tears start to fall as you reach the bus stop on the next block, your heart breaking as you realize you are leaving the only people you can call family.

“I need to buy a one way ticket, please,” you manage through your tears as you hand your credit card over to the teller behind the window.

“Where to, miss?”

“Anywhere but here.” The teller smiles as he hands you your card and ticket.

Part 2

Tags:  @bringmesomepie56 @aorma22 @torrentmgc @savetheimpalaridedean @vaisabu @madithemagicalfangirl @dancingalone21 @anokhi07 @green-love-red-fantasyhearts @scarletsxies @smoothdogsgirl @superromijn @pretty-odd-jenn @my-own-paradise-fuckers @wevegotworktodo @inmysparetime0 @i-dont-know-how-to-write @rattyretro-blog-blog @arryn-nyxx @sis-tafics @jalove-wecallhimdean @dustycelt @supernatural-jackles​ @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog​ @spnfanficpond​ @27bmm​ @pinknerdpanda @emilywritesaboutdean @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms​ @babybrotherdean @babypieandwhiskey @nichelle-my-belle @iwantthedean​ @dreamingintheimpalawithdean​

[imsarabum]

Pure Panic // Jackson Wang

Pairing: Jackson x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Drama, slight Angst

Summary; Jackson receives confusing, devastating news that you’ve been severely injured, so he gets on the next flight back to Korea to try and find you.

Reminder; (Y/F/N) = Your Full Name

Reminder; (Y/L/N) = Your Last Name

After jumping into a taxi outside your apartment block and telling the driver the address of the hair salon you were going to, you searched through your bag - only to realise that in your haste to leave as quickly as possible; you completely forgot to bring your battery pack to charge your phone that was currently on 3%.

“Damn it!” you screamed to yourself, not being able to believe how stupid you were. Just then, a text from Jackson popped up; your battery now going from 3% to 2% upon receiving it.

FROM: Jacks ^_^

Are you in the taxi now babe? We’re just finished with the show and now we’re chilling watching TV in JB’s suite”

“Ah...he has free time now and I won’t be able to talk to him...” you winced, feeling all the more sorry for yourself seeing as Jackson was still in Japan at one of GOT7’s fanmeets. They were all due to come home in two days from now, but you still missed him with all your heart with every second that passed. Knowing that your phone was about to die at any given moment, you quickly text him back.

TO: Jacks ^_^

Yes I’m in the taxi now. Phone is about to die, I left my charger at home T-T I’ll text you when I get back! Love you”

No sooner had you pressed send and saw the little ‘Read’ sign next to your message, your phone decided to rest in peace altogether. “At least I got to tell him” you let out a heavy sigh as the taxi made a left turn on to one of the busiest intersections in Gangnam.

“Looks like there’s a lot of traffic today Miss – are you in a hurry?” the taxi driver informed you, making you look forward to see the long line of cars slowly inching along the road.

“It’s okay – I’ve got loads of time anyways, it’s just a hair appointment” you replied cheerily. Just as the driver was about to continue having friendly small talk with you, you received the biggest shock of your life in the form of another car ramming into the back of the taxi you were currently in. You let out a scream, hearing the sound of clashing metal and feeling a strong impact on your right shoulder and arm from the crushed trunk that was now in beside you in the back seat. The taxi driver screamed and shouted too; as the whole car jolted forward to hit the next car in front – causing a long line of a domino effect to the car in front of you, and so on.

“Miss! Are you okay? Miss?” the taxi driver turned round in his seat once the shaking and movement stopped to see you as white as a ghost – your eyes glancing backwards and forwards as you felt a cold sweat of sheer terror cover you from head to toe.

“Y-yes I think so...” you muttered, feeling a horrible, dull ache present throughout your entire right arm. As far as you could tell, it wasn’t broken and the rest of you was completely fine. “Are you okay Sir?” you asked back, seeing him nod at you in turn.

Not even 10 minutes later, a series of ambulances and police cars rolled up on to the scene to treat any injuries and to find out who caused the now massive pile up and how it happened. Your wonderful taxi driver managed to help you get out of the banged up car with ease – letting you lean on him for support as you noticed the beginnings of what appeared to be you having a panic attack.

You tried to reassure the paramedic attending to you that you were okay and that your hyperventilation was just due to the shock of the whole situation – but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Please Miss, it would be best to go to the hospital and get checked out. Your shoulder and arm definitely need to be treated. Your blood pressure is sky high and your breathing is very erratic; you must come in the ambulance” she instructed you in a more than authoritative tone. No sooner had her words left her mouth; you began feeling sick and dizzy. You knew in your heart of hearts that it was just because of everything happening all at once, but it just caused the paramedic more concern. In less than a minute, another paramedic joined her; and they had you strapped into a stretcher on wheels with an oxygen mask over your mouth. And before you knew it, you were being taken to the hospital in the back of an ambulance; the only thought in your mind being “Shit! My phone is dead...how will I get in contact with Jackson?!”

“Isn’t there a Korean channel on this thing? I can’t understand anything they’re saying...” BamBam whined as he lay on the couch next to Mark and Yugyeom.

“Learn Japanese then!” Jaebum whined back to him jokingly, with Jinyoung and Youngjae lying comfortably on either side of him on his king-size hotel bed.

“I’ll learn Japanese when you start speaking English, hyung~” BamBam retorted playfully, the rest of the boys all making O shapes with their mouth and letting a series of ‘Oooo’s’ into the atmosphere.

“Watch it BamBam – hyung will smother you with a pillow in your sleep if you keep being that cocky” Jackson – who had just returned from the bathroom, spoke in a comedic tone as he made his way over to the empty chair on the other side of the room. As all of the boys laughed and began joking about with each other, Jackson couldn’t help but check his phone for any messages from you. Even though he knew your phone was dead, it had become second nature for him to always see if you were trying to reach him.

“Alright, I’ll put on the Korean channel. But – I think it’s just the KBS news channel” Jaebum hummed as he flicked through the T.V listings. “Ah! I was right. But at least everyone will understand” he chuckled to himself before lying back down in between Jinyoung and Youngjae.

Everyone continued to idly watch the news channel – everyone that was, except Jackson.

“Ugh...why do I miss her so badly today?” he pined to himself as he flicked through the many selfies he had of you saved to his phone. Jackson was the type of boyfriend to miss you every single second of every single day he had to spend without you – but for some reason or other, today seemed like it was worse. Completely engrossed in his phone and his many pictures of you, Jackson completely blocked out the several news headlines that the anchorwoman was reading out.

“...and we have some breaking-news here for the residents of Gangnam-ku in Seoul. There has been widespread panic across one of the biggest and busiest intersections in the city as a car who failed to brake in time caused a massive pile-up to happen along the main road. So far, it appears that no one has died, but there have been 18 accounts of mild to serious injuries. We go live now to our reporter, Pak Songju on the scene. Please be advised that some viewers may find this footage upsetting...”

Six out of seven boys watched on in horror as the camera panned high above the mile long road of cars, bikes, trucks and lorries that littered the entire scene. “Oh my god...” Yugyeom mouthed in silence.

“Wow...I hope everyone’s okay” Jinyoung said with a lump in his throat as the camera moved to a different shot of live, on the scene footage of people being treated by paramedics and passerby’s helping people out of cars and making sure no one was left behind in the debris. As they continued to watch – and as Jackson continued to smile at your adorable face on his screen, the other six boys suddenly widened their eyes; not believing what they were seeing.

“Oh my god...that’s (Y/N)!” Youngjae shouted as he pointed to the screen,

“Jackson – look!” Mark threw a pillow over towards Jackson to catch his attention.

“Huh? What?” Jackson lifted his head, being met by their horrified faces as they all screamed at him to look at the T.V.

Jackson felt like every ounce of blood in his body had turned deathly cold at the sight of you being lifted into the back of an ambulance. He could just about make out your face that was covered by a huge oxygen mask. In that moment, he didn’t know what to do; for there was nothing he could do except sit like a deer caught in headlights and watch as they closed the ambulance doors behind you.

“(Y/N)...” Jackson whispered as his eyes widened to their full capacity. “Oh my god – (Y/N)! What happened? What was that?!” Jackson stood up immediately before running over towards the T.V, trying to catch the tail end of the writing on the screen.

“There was a huge accident at the intersection in Gangnam...if that’s (Y/N)...then...” BamBam trailed off, every single one of their hearts feeling like they had stopped beating.

“Did (Y/N) tell you she was going anywhere? Call her and find out!” Jinyoung bolted up in the bed along with the other boys who were now all sitting up straight.

Jackson reached for his phone – before letting out a panicked, frustrated sigh. “She text me like half an hour ago to let me know she was on her way in a taxi to a salon and that her phone was about to die...” he spoke quickly, feeling like his soul was about to leave his body at the image of you on a stretcher burned into the back of his mind. Without needing another moment to think, Jackson had already fully decided what he was going to do.

“Guys – I have to go. I have to get a flight back to Korea right now. I’m sorry, but I have to” he spoke quickly, his mouth going dry and his mind going into overdrive with the thought of you being severely injured without him being there to be by your side. Jaebum quickly took to his feet, standing up to come to the same level as Jackson.

“Go – don’t worry about anything else and get a hold of manager-hyung so he can take you to the airport. We’ll sort everything else out. Just get to her and make sure she’s okay, alright?” Jaebum walked out of his suite with Jackson, following him into his shared room with BamBam and Mark to help him pack the bare minimal essentials.

“Hyung...what if she’s hurt? What if she d-“

“Don’t Jackson – don’t jump to conclusions. If she’s on her way to the hospital, she’s in good hands. They’ll take care of her, I promise you” Jaebum’s leader instinct had already fully kicked in as he began gathering Jackson’s passport and throwing a few items of clothing and chargers into Jackson’s hand-luggage bag.

“I don’t even know what hospital they’ve taken her to! What do I do JB?!” Jackson held back tears of pure fear as Jaebum handed him his bag and took out his own phone to begin calling their manager.

“All you can do is start by calling all of the hospitals near that intersection. One of them has her – so keep trying until you find her. Then, when you land – if you still haven’t found which one, keep going until you do. Tell them you’re her boyfriend and leave your name and number for them to get in contact with you if they hear anything” Jaebum put his hand on Jackson’s shoulder as a gesture of comfort, letting him know with his eyes that he understood how scared he was.

Around forty-five minutes later, Jackson and his manager arrived at Tokyo Haneda airport. After buying their tickets to fly back to Incheon, Jackson continued to go through a list of hospitals situated in Seoul that were sorted alphabetically on a web-page he had found. He had also tried calling your friends and people you knew – but all of them just replied in shock to find out that you had seemingly been involved in a serious accident. During the whole two hours he had to wait for his flight to board, and even right up until the air-hostess instructed Jackson to switch his phone to flight-mode, he kept calling hospitals in the hope of one of them being able to put his mind at rest. Unfortunately, none of the hospitals he had called were able to locate you on their system; leaving Jackson to sit and completely lose his mind during the entire two and a half hours it took from Haneda airport, back to Incheon in Seoul.

It had been a little over four hours since you arrived at the hospital – having to go through check after check to make sure that you weren’t in any serious danger of having a concussion or internal bleeding. After a few scans and x-rays, your attending doctor told you that you were perfectly fine - with just a nasty sprain to your arm and to look forward to a lovely bruise on your right shoulder; thanks to the impact of the car that rammed you from behind. As you were waiting for the last of your IV fluids to finish, a nurse came round with a sling for you to place your arm in.

“Come back for a check-up appointment in 4 weeks time, and don’t hesitate to come back before then if you feel that your condition is getting worse” he smiled at you as he removed the needle from your arm and put a band-aid in its place.

“Thank you for taking good care of me. By the way, where do I go to sort out my medical bill and insurance?” you asked him as you took to your feet, patting down the hospital bed behind you as you prepared to leave the day ward you had been placed in.

“After you sign your discharge papers – you can head down to the first floor to settle that! Don’t worry, it’s well sign posted and you can’t miss it!” he politely informed you as you grabbed your belongings and clutched your poorly arm in close to your body – supported by the sling.

As soon as Jackson arrived in Incheon, he didn’t waste any time in turning his phone back on as he continued where he left off on the list in Japan. He had just arrived into central Seoul via taxi, when he dialled the number for a University hospital – ready to give the same spiel he had been giving to every single person that answered the phone.

“Good afternoon, Gangnam University hospital – how can I help you?”

“Hello, I was wondering if you could tell me if a (Y/F/N) was admitted to this hospital today? I’m her boyfriend – Jackson Wang, and I know she was involved in the intersection pile up but I have no idea which hospital she was taken to or if she’s even okay...” he spewed all in one breath – not giving up hope of finding you just yet.

“One moment please, Sir” the assistant on the line replied. Jackson waited patiently as he heard the tapping of keyboard keys in the background, before the assistant addressed him once more.

“I’m going to put you through to the female day-ward – please hold the line, Sir”

Jackson’s heart jump-started in his chest as he stared out the window of his taxi, not paying attention to anything outside – rather, he just stared into the distance; hoping with all his heart you were there, and that you were okay.

“Hello, you’re through to female medical day-ward – how can I help you?”

Jackson repeated the same thing he had just repeated to the previous voice on the phone, slightly out of breath this time as he grew more and more impatient with all the handling about that was being done with no clear answers being given to him.

“Ah, yes! (Y/N) was admitted to our ward earlier on today. But –“

“Thank you very much, I’m on my way!” Jackson cut her off before she could say anything else, before hanging up the phone and telling the driver to take him to the University hospital as quickly as possible. He felt slightly bad for just rudely hanging up on the ward-nurse, but all he could think about was getting to you and making sure you’re okay. Alas, he was thankful that finally, he knew where you were and he could have you in his arms sooner – rather than later.

“Thank you very much Miss (Y/L/N) and we hope you recover soon. Please take care on your way home!”

You had just finished sorting out your medical insurance that paid for your treatment and pain medication fee’s after you signed the discharge papers back up at the ward. You returned the hospital staff’s kind goodbye, before putting your purse back in your bag.

“Ahh...okay. Let’s go to the store and pick up some food before going home and charging this damn phone” you said to yourself as you gathered up your bag and began walking in the direction of the busy front exit. You couldn’t help but think about how much you personally disliked hospitals – always thinking they were so lonely and sterile; but you were thankful that every member of staff you encountered seemed so kind and friendly towards you.

“Shit – do I have enough money to get a taxi?” you thought as you continued to walk towards the exit while simultaneously rummaging through your bag to try and find some loose change at the bottom. However, while you had your head hung between your shoulders in search of money; you didn’t even see Jackson as he dodged through the crowd of people at the main entrance – running straight past you to make his way to the ward you had just came from.

Jackson ran up the escalator – excusing himself for being a nuisance to other people as he carefully barged through them while following the signs that lead him to female medical. Upon arrival to the ward, Jackson rushed up to the front desk – his chest heaving from the amount of running he had just put himself through.

“Are you okay, Sir?” the same nurse who had just gotten you to sign your discharge papers asked upon seeing Jackson almost doubled over and out of breath.

“My girlfriend – (Y/F/N) was admitted to this ward earlier on today – I came as soon as I found out which hospital she was taken to by the ambulance” he barely managed to utter as he ran his hand through his brown locks to sweep his bangs off his slightly perspired forehead.

“I’m sorry, Sir...(Y/N) was discharged...well – not even ten minutes ago. You must have missed her on her way out! She may still be down settling her medical fee’s – perhaps you can get her there?” the nurse apologised to him, seeing ten levels of woe painting Jackson’s face.

“Discharged? You mean – she’s okay? She’s not hurt?” Jackson asked worriedly.

“I’m sorry, Sir. Under the strict confidentiality act this hospital runs under, I’m afraid I’m not in a position to disclose (Y/N)’s medical details with you – even if you say you are her boyfriend. I hope you can understand” the nurse stood up to get ready to do another set of rounds on other patients on the ward. Jackson clicked his tongue in annoyance, while he thought “Wow – what an asshole”

“Yeah, I understand...thanks for nothing” Jackson muttered under his breath, before turning on his heel and sprinting back in the direction he just came from.

Since locating enough spare change from the bottom of your bag, you managed to flag down a taxi – thankful that this time; you weren’t involved in another pile up. After getting dropped off at your local convenience store around 20 minutes later, you decided to go for some lazy cuisine since you didn’t have full use of your arm to make anything more impressive – other than cup ramen. You also decided to pick up some sweets and crisps; justifying your unhealthy meal in your mind with thoughts such as “I’m poorly – I deserve to pig out!”

Once you had paid for your items, you began walking the 3 minute walk back to your apartment block; taking your time as you dawdled along the footpath with your handbag and convenience store bag around your good arm. Upon walking inside your building, you strode straight up to the elevator and pressed the button – not even looking to see which floor it was on as you began trying to pull out your key from your pocket.

“Agh! Life with only one arm is so difficult...” you became more and more frustrated as you looked down to your pocket – the weight of the bags hanging off your elbow digging into your skin; before you finally grabbed a hold of your keys. At that moment, you heard the elevator doors open in front of you – and without raising your head to walk forward, you began to take a step inside; only to find that you had just walked straight into someone who had just rode the elevator to the ground floor.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I –“ you raised your head, seeing none other than your boyfriend – Jackson, standing in front of you; looking like he had just come home from war.

“Jackson?! What are...why aren’t you in Japan? What’s going on?!” you were almost at a loss for words as you couldn’t believe he was actually standing right in front of you.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Why are you carrying all these bags? Why did you leave the hospital? Why didn’t you go straight home? Where did you go? Why didn’t you wait for me to come and get you?!” Jackson let question after question fall from his mouth at a rapid-fire rate as he took all your bags off you and placed them on the floor.

“They discharged me because nothing was wrong! How could I have waited for you when I didn’t even know you were looking for me?! How did you even know where I was?!” you shouted back at him – completely dumbfounded and spellbound at his sudden appearance. Jackson let out a massive, relieved sigh – his emotions almost getting the best of him as he reached out and pulled you straight into his embrace; only to hear you yelp in his ear.

“Ow! JACKSON! My arm!” you squealed.

“Fuck! Sorry – I forgot, I’m so sorry (Y/N)...I just...I needed to see you and make sure you were okay I –“ he paused, cupping your cheeks with his hands as he looked down into your confused face – noticing your arm in the sling that made his heart clench even tighter. “I saw the accident on the news and there was a shot of you being taken away in an ambulance and I didn’t know if you were alive or dead or if you were okay...so I got on the next flight back home and rang every single hospital I could find...you scared the living shit out of me (Y/N)...” Jackson closed his eyes as he pressed his lips to your forehead.

“...you saw me on the news? Agh...” you sighed, feeling more than humiliated now with the knowledge that millions of people probably watched you being carried off to the hospital. “You...you came all the way back from Japan...for me?” you stepped back slightly, looking up to his face and noticing that his expression had gone from pure panic, to somewhat more relaxed and relieved.

Carefully, Jackson put his arm around your left shoulder – being careful not to hurt you again as he pulled you in gently to his body. “Of course I came back...I didn’t know what the hell happened to you and I couldn’t get in contact with anyone who could help” his voice dropped as his free hand latched on to your waist. “I’ve...I’ve never been so scared in my entire life. I was so far away and there wasn’t anything I could do so – of course I came back. I had to find you...I had to make sure you were okay, (Y/N)” he whispered coarsely, and you could clearly see evidence of him obviously having cried before bumping into you that was staining his cheeks.

“I made my way to your apartment after finding out you got discharged...and I was banging on your door for ages. I thought that...I thought – I don’t know what I thought. I just –“

“Shh, it’s okay – I’m here, right? I’m here and I’m safe and I’m with you and everything’s okay, see?” you quickly pressed your lips to his to silence his unsettled babbling – standing on your tip-toes slightly to reach him as he returned your sweet kisses. In a matter of moments, you parted your lips further as Jackson deepened the kiss – and you could feel all of his pent up stress and emotions in the way his mouth moulded with yours with both of you still standing in front of the elevator.

“I seriously...can’t believe you got on a bloody plane to come and make sure I was okay” you finally chuckled into his face once the heat of the moment smouldered and simmered down.

Jackson gave you a faint side-smile, dropping his head in embarrassed defeat while giggling to himself. “I would do anything to make sure you’re safe. You seriously have no idea how worried I was – I just got up and left. The boys are still in Japan” he chuckled along with you as you shook your head in playful disbelief.

“Well...at least we can have two days to ourselves without any interruptions then – yes?” you donned a cute smile with somewhat of a twinkle present in your eye as Jackson reached down to pick up your bags, before pressing the button to open the elevator doors.

“Exactly – and Nurse Wang is gonna take good care of you the entire time. Because – you know why?” he ushered you into the elevator with his arm still around you – pressing your floor number before the doors closed behind you both.

“Why?” you asked – but you already knew what he was going to say.

“Because I would literally hop on a plane and fly all around the world to see you if you asked me to. I’ve proven it now, right?” he paused, listening to you cackle at his cheesiness as he pressed his lips to your forehead once more.

“And because, I love you – with all that I am; and all I ever hope to be, (Y/N)”

[kbopz-blog]

Hunted {BTS Mafia!AU}

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Pairing: Yoongi x reader Genre: BTS mafia au Warning: angst, smut (at some point), violence, mentions of prostitution/drugs, swearing, other dark themes I can’t think of right now

Writer: Bom

Word count: 1815

Summary:

Y/n finds out about the mysterious ‘Nightwalker’ situation, and is infuriated when neither Yoongi, Youngji, Taehyung or Jungkook will tell her what it is. To their surprise, a known gang from the north has offered to help them in exchange for their own information and Youngji’s sudden disappearance

I led Y/n into Youngji’s lab, gently pushing her in. Assuring she didn’t run off in fear of Youngji. I can’t say I blame her though, Youngji was not someone to be messed with. I’d be dead if it weren’t for her.

Upon entering Taehyung was situated ontop of her desk, Jungkook was sitting in her chair while she was standing in front of the window. Listening as Jungkook and Taehyung rambled on about who knows what. Jungkook stopped talking immediately as I walked into the fairly large space. 

“Noona, they’re here,”Jungkook informed softly. The older girl looking over her shoulder before turning to face us. I felt Y/n grip onto my arm making me smirk internally. Youngji walked over to her desk wordlessly and picked up a clip board. As Youngji approached y/n cowered further into my shoulder.

“Come on princess, the faster the check up’s done...the faster you can escape my mad scientist,”I hummed playfully, earning a sharp scoff from Youngji. Y/n turned out to be incredibly submissive and followed my words. Allowing the other girl to lead her to a cot. Youngji got to work, checking whatever she needed, to ensure y/n wasn’t at risk of dying in her sleep. 

“How’s Jimin handling the Nightwalker situation?”I asked, strutting over to her desk and looking over all the papers she had neatly piled on her desk. 

“I’m not sure he’s handling it at all. Jaebum told me he spotted him on the other side of town. Towards the north of the wasteland. Open your mouth for me...good...everything looks good here...Right towards Alya as well,”Youngji reported, while checking over Y/n.

“Alya? My sister Alya?”Y/n asked curiously as she held out her arm for Youngji to do a few more tests. She looked alarmed when all 4 of us nodded simultaneously. 

“Yeah. Alya was a knack for trying to anger Yoongi hyung,”Jungkook replied spinning himself on the chair out of pure boredom.  

“She’s trying to pull some of the gangs from the northern district into our little debacle,”Youngji added.

“Taehyung, grab me a needle and a cotton ball,”

I frowned upon hearing her previous comment. It was well known among the mafia that gangs in the south are a lot more violent than those in the north. The Northern gangs were very intolerant when it came to the wars among southern gangs and refused to become involved unless completely necessary. 

“What’s the northern district? I...what?”Y/n stammered as she tried to wrap her head around the information given. Nobody gave her an answer which appeared to piss her off.

“They won’t help, noona. It’s not serious enough or even important,”Jungkook commented making Youngji nod. 

“Though if the Nightwalker situation gets out of hand they might,”Taehyung countered as he handed the materials to Youngji. I nodded and took Taehyung’s previous spot on Youngji’s desk. It was clear Y/n was growing increasingly frustrated, it almost made me worried. Did she really not know anything concerning her fathers business? The Nightwalker problem had been a pain in my ass for months now and it seemed as if it had no intention on leaving me be. 

“Wait...are you all working together on the Nightwalker situation?”Y/n asked shyly making Taehyung snort. Youngji jumped slightly and missed her mark on Y/n’s arm causing her to let out a small cry. Youngji was quick to react, taking out the needle and pressing the cotton ball to the puncture wound.

“Yah! Look what you did!”Youngji snarled, slapping Taehyung across the back of his head. Taehyung yelped and cradled his head in his hands. Youngji walked over to a cupboard and grabbed a first aid kit.

“I apologize for his stupidity. I didn’t mean to stab you,”Youngji apologized making Y/n smile briefly. I smirked at them and gave Taehyung a look. She patched up Y/n’s arm and stepped back. 

“You’re in the clear. With the consistency and colour of your blood, you’re gonna be fine. If you were in any danger your blood would have slightly changed colour and it would be a lot thicker. But to answer your question, no. We’re not working together. Your father has Namjoon and Jungkook’s father convinced there’s nothing wrong and that we’re the only problem,”Youngji addressed making Y/n look down at her injured arm.  

“What is Nightwalker?”Y/n asked. Youngji went silent looking over at me as if asking permission to tell her. I shook my head in reply. The girl has enough to take in, let alone another extremely dangerous situation.

“Come back and see me if you start to feel sick or light headed. If I’m not here, go find Taehyung. Yoongi, I think it’s best Y/n takes a shower. Let her get settled. She has a lot to take in,”Youngji stated, completely brushing Y/n off. I nodded in approval and stood up, before making my way to the door. Y/n got off the cot and made her way towards me, thanking Youngji as she passed. 

It was silent between Yoongi and I as he led me to where I’d be staying. I really wanted to know what the hell Nightwalker was. According to everyone’s reaction it was bad, but not bad enough for my father, Namjoon or Mr. Jeon to deem it as a threat. Or maybe M.A.D was making a big deal out of nothing. 

“I told you she wasn’t that bad,”Yoongi’s voice came, snapping me out of my trance. I looked over at him, slightly alarmed. He chuckled softly and led me around a corner. I took a moment to process his words before shrugging. 

“Yeah, I guess. It was a bit funny to see her slap Taehyung,”I admitted confidently causing Yoongi to grin. I couldn’t help but smile as I laughed a bit, recalling the pure look of betrayal that crossed his face. 

“He looked so betrayed,”I added with a small giggle. Yoongi nodded, stopping in front of a door. 

“It happens a lot. Youngji is always on her toes around Taehyung.”He told me, almost looking fond. Though it was short lived because he opened the door and led me in. 

Once again, I found myself in awe of the room. It wasn’t nearly as lavish as the room I had originally woken up in, but it felt comfortable. And from what I could see the view was amazing. 

“Like it?”Yoongi asked, making his way over to the bed and plopping down on it. I nodded and made my way towards the patio. 

“This was Youngji’s room,”He began making me turn to him in shock. I was afraid of her, and he expected me to share a bed, let alone ROOM with her? Uh...I’ll pass please. 

“She moved out of the here shortly after the Nightwalker incident,”He added softly. I sighed in relief. So I wouldn’t be sharing a room with her. 

“No, but there maybe some nights she might sleep in here. Depending on how much work she has,”He informed. Shit...did I say that out loud? Well, clearly I did seeing as he just answered my question. I ignored his answer and walked over to an open door, leading to an en-suite.

“Whoa...”I marveled as I flicked on the bathroom light. I heard shuffling and I turned to see Yoongi leaving. 

“I’ll let you get settled in. Feel free to wander around the estate, but don’t leave unless it’s with myself or I allow you to leave with someone else. Understood?”He asked- well...more so commanded than asked but...whatever. 

“Wait...what about clothing? I highly doubt Youngji’s things will fit me...”I frowned as I turned to face him. Yoongi hummed as he began to think. 

“I’ll take you shopping for clothing tomorrow, now hurry up and get clean.”He announced before leaving swiftly. I stood there in shock before shaking my head and heading towards the bathroom. I closed the door and stripped myself down, making note of the clean towels on the rack. The shower appeared to be fully stocked with shampoo, conditioner and anything else I may need in the shower. 

After a few minutes of fumbling around attempting to figure out how to turn on the water, I stepped in and allowed the warm water to encase my body. It was relaxing, being by myself with nobody else. Though as relaxed and stress free as I felt I couldn’t seem to take the Nightwalker ‘situation’ off my mind. I had so many questions I wanted answers to, but nobody seemed anxious or even slightly willing to give answers. Maybe I could ask Jungkook...No...he wouldn’t tell me...unless ordered too. 

As I left Y/n in Youngji’s room I happened to bump into the devil herself. I raised an eyebrow at her quizzically. 

“Ah there you are. Jimin just called, Big Bang has information for us. He said GD was willing to give it to us in exchange for whatever we know. He wants to help with the situation,”She informed. I looked at her in shock, it wasn’t often I allowed Youngji to truly see what I was thinking or to see my true emotions. 

“My reaction exactly. I’ll go, I already told Taehyung what to give Y/n if something happens,”She added making me frown.

“Yoongi, you have a business meeting with Shinee. I’m not handling them again. Plus, I have business there already,”She replied, knowing what I was going to say just from my expression. Youngji was good at that...at reading people. That’s why she was damn near impossible to trick.  

“What kind of business?”I asked skeptically. She looked at me with a look of pure annoyance.

“Private business,”She replied curtly. I smirked at her.

“You and Jimin, huh?”I teased. Youngji blinked before grabbing my ear tightly. I gasped sharply and winced at the shooting pain in my ear.

“Say that again, I dare you,”She threatened. I knew full well Youngji and Jimin were not on good terms but it was still a source of amusement for me to tease them. 

“I knew there was-oW! Noona! I’m sorry!”I yelped as she tightened her grip. Youngji roughly pushed me away and released her hold on my ear. I grunted slightly and gently rubbed my ear.

“It’s business revolving around my family, you nosy brat. I’ll be back in about a month or 2.”She hissed, clearly pissed off now. Though the mention of her family made me shut up immediately. 

“2 months? Youngji...do you know what could happen?”I snapped giving her a glare of my own. She nodded.

“I do. Call me if something requires my immediate attention, other wise. Don’t bother me.”She stated firmly. I hesitated before nodding. Of course she’d drop everything if I needed her...she was like that. I really wish she wasn’t because she’s almost been killed once or twice because of it...but that didn’t seem to matter to her. 

“Don’t repeat last time,”I huffed. Remembering how busy she had made me because she had poisoned an ally to gain information for herself. That was the month from hell...no sleep...no time to relax...it was awful.

“I make no promises,”

[kpopaganda]

Allied, Part 9

Group: GOT7

Member: Jackson

POV: 1st Person

Type: Angst/Fluff/Series/Other

Word Count: 2,200

Summary: The world is in turmoil. There are few functioning governments left and an incurable disease has wiped out most of the human population. It’s every man for himself until you find an ally who becomes more.

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

Jackson doesn't say a word, just scowls, as I walk around the room preparing things to fix him up.

After coming ashore and finding out Jackson was injured, our new little group decided that the number one priority was treating Jackson. So the three of us set out on a trek that led us to a road and then an old, abandoned gas station. After checking that it was safe, I pulled Jackson into the bathroom while Jaebum kept watch outside. It was in pretty bad shape and there was nothing left to scavenge, but it at least got us out of the elements to focus on getting that bullet out of Jackson. 

That was one thing we determined on the way. Only one of the bullets went all the way through; the one in his abdomen. None of us were doctors, but as far as we could tell, the one that went all the way through didn’t cause serious damage. We would have to wait and see, but he kept pressure on it until we got to the gas station. I knew if I left it the other bullet in, it would get infected and risking any kind of infection was asking for trouble. The deadly kind and as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I didn’t want to lose Jackson.

It was stupid really. He was just a guy I met along the way, or at least he used to be. Now he was someone to look to, someone to help. A companion, a comrade, a friend. And I would be a monster to let my friend die because of a fucking infection.

“We might be dead if I didn’t take over,” I heard Jackson say and turned around to look at him.

He was leaning against the counter where the sinks were, looking very uncomfortable and very shirtless, but I couldn’t appreciate it through all of the blood. He also looked annoyed. I was as well, but at that point I couldn’t figure out who was annoyed with what. If he was annoyed with me, himself or our situation in general. I got the feeling it was all of the above.

“What?” I asked.

“If I didn’t step in to get the motor going and get us out of there, we might be dead.”

I scoffed. “I’m not calling you stupid because you took over from me. I’m calling you stupid because you didn’t consider the consequences and because you didn’t tell us sooner that you got hit.”

He tried crossing his arms to make a snarky comment but winced when it made him engage his injured shoulder. I almost laughed at how quickly the look on his face shifted from sassy to hurt, but I stopped myself. There was no point in either of us getting any more riled up than we already were.

“Let’s get that bullet out of you.”

I set down everything I had in terms of first aid next to him on the counter. All I could find was some gauze, a little bit of antiseptic I had left in my bag, fabric scraps, and a needle that I would need to close up the hole in his shoulder. The two in his abdomen were small enough to close up with butterfly stitches and then wrap some gauze and fabric around to keep closed, so I did that first. He gritted his teeth and hiss harshly when I applied the antiseptic, but the worst was still to come. I touched the skin around the bullet wound in his shoulder and Jackson pretty much jumped out of my reach.

“That hurts,” he yelled in a high-pitched voice. 

“It’s going to hurt a lot more than that when I pull the bullet out,” I told him. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

He flinched when I tried to reach for him again. It was weird seeing Jackson, the usually brave and reckless, shying away from my touch. I needed to help him but he was too scared to let. I was going to need to try a different strategy.

“Wait here,” I said.

Jaebum was right outside the bathroom, leaning against the wall with a gun in hand. He looked very casual, but I knew he was being vigilant. I was actually surprised he was still with us at all. His head shot up when I came out and he looked at me with enquiring eyes.

“So?” he asked. “How’d it go?”

“I’m not getting that bullet out of him without some help. We have nothing to numb the pain and he’s so sensitive right now. He is going to scream his lungs out when I try to get that bullet out and let everyone within a five-mile radius know where we are.”

He thought about it for a second before nodded. “You have a point. What do you need me to do?”

The truth was I didn’t know. My medical knowledge was limited, but I knew the tools needed to be sterile and that we needed to manage Jackson’s pain somehow, for his sake. But we only had so much at our disposal. All we had for pain were some paracetamol for headaches, nothing that could make a gunshot feel like less of a big deal. We also didn’t have anaesthesia, which meant Jackson was going to be in a world of pain. I didn’t look forward to seeing that or being responsible for it, but we didn’t have a choice.

“We need to find him something to bite on,” I said to Jaebum, letting my words sink in. “And I’m going to need you to hold him down.”

I waited while he processed what I told him, a looking of determination settling over him before he nodded. It was bizarre to me how ready he was to tackle stuff like this. I knew we’d all seen our fair share of shit and had to learn to work through it, but Jaebum was on another level. Being part of the rebels really affected him. 

We search the shop one more time before deciding that a souvenir t-shirt would be the best thing for him to bite on. I’ll rip off a piece, wad it up and stuff it in his mouth. Hopefully that will stifle most of the sound.

Jaebum follows me into the bathroom where Jackson is sat on the counter looking like a fidgety mess biting his nails. We get him to lie down on a pile of t-shirts we brought in from the shop, tearing a piece off of one for the gag. I sterilise a pair of stainless steel chopsticks with a lighter and prepare some more fabric scraps with antiseptic liquid while we wait for them to cool down. Jackson’s eyes keep shifting between me and Jaebum, waiting for some kind of reassurance, but it wasn’t time for that yet. I accidentally put pressure on the hurt shoulder and he hisses loudly before I apologise. It was too sensitive. He was going to have to wear a sling for a while and that would put him at a disadvantage.

“This is going to suck,” I tell Jackson before putting a wad of fabric in his mouth.

His eyes widen briefly and then he looks away from me entirely. I grab the chopsticks and take a deep breath before sticking them into the wound. Immediately Jackson flinches and tries to scream, but the fabric does a good job at muffling him. Jaebum holds him down while I try to find the bullet.

“Hold on,” Jaebum says to try and console him. “She has to do this.”

But Jackson keeps screaming the same muffled cry of pain and I see tears running down his face. It makes it so much harder for me to concentrate, but I have to get it done. Two torturous minutes late, I finally get the bullet out and I drop it on the floor where it rolls into one of the stalls out of sight. We all take a relieved breath, but Jackson is still in a considerable amount of pain and he’s also bleeding pretty badly.

I quickly apply the antiseptic liquid to a rag and press it to the wound, making him flinch and squeal again. Jaebum keeps holding him down without any hint of expression on his face. 

When everything was finally under control and I had Jackson’s wound dressed, everything was quiet. Jackson’s eyes were still squeezed shut and his breathing heavy. It was the only other sound I could hear over my heart pounding in my head.

“You’ll be okay,” I whispered to him. “I promise.”

We decided to stay at the gas station that night. Jackson and I were still too wiped out from the bullet removal to really think about moving around. Jaebum wasn’t too keen on the idea, but for some reason he also didn’t want to venture off on his own. It was comforting to know he would be around to have our backs. I think he’s proven his trustworthiness at this point.

I build us a small fire around the back of the building in an enclosed service area. The corrugated steel up against the chainlink fence told us that someone tried to reinforce the station, but they weren’t very successful by the looks of things. 

Jackson was asleep inside in what seemed like a staff room. His arm was in a sling and he was pretty much dead to the world not even ten minutes after I took care of him. In all honestly, I was very worried about him. I’d done the best that I could with my limited resources, but there was still the risk of infection. There was only so much I could do in the shitty circumstances.

I was tending to the fire and trying to keep warm at the same time when I felt someone take a seat beside me. It almost scared me half to death before I remembered Jaebum was still awake.

“You shouldn’t be up,” I said. “You’ll be too tired to take the next shift.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, staring into the fire.

I didn’t have anything to say to that. I didn’t want to be a nag. If he didn’t want to sleep I wasn’t going to command him to. So we just sat like that, staring at the fire and listening to its almost rhythmic popping. It would almost be soothing if it wasn’t pitch black around us in every direction.

“So,” said Jaebum suddenly. “You and Jackson.”

I turned to look at him. “Me and Jackson what?”

“Are you two, like, together?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“We don’t feel that way about each other.”

“That’s not true on his part.”

“And how would you know that, stranger?”

My emphasis on the last word makes him smile. “I don’t have to know either of you very well to notice the way he looks at you.”

His gaze on me is too intense and I have to look back at the fire. “And how is that?”

“Like you’re his whole world.”

My skin prickles at that. “Your skills of observation are off.”

He chuckles. “They’re definitely not. Jackson is so in love with you, it’s almost sad. Why are you doing this to him?”

I jump to my feet. “Why are you doing this to me?”

He just looks up at me with his dark eyes and the slight smirk on his face tells me that he’s gotten what he wanted. All he wanted was to get a rise out of me and I gave it to him on a silver platter.

“Do you think this is easy for me?” I continue. “You’re a loner too. You of all people should know what it’s like to not want to get close to anyone. We’re both going to get hurt eventually and this is the lesser of all those possible evil. So, just leave it alone. I’m going to sleep. You can take this shift.”

I march off into the building before he can get another word in, but I know what I said will resonate with him. It wasn’t as simple as jumping into a relationship with the first person you find. I wanted to minimise the damage I did to other people and getting romantically involved with anyone increased the chances of doing just that. I needed to keep my options open. If, for whatever reason, I needed to make a run for it, I could because I’m essentially on my own. Yes, Jackson and I were travelling together, but that doesn’t make him my responsibility. All I wanted was to do right by him without things getting too serious.

As I walk into the staff room and see Jackson asleep on the floor, I’m struck with the realisation that I would be forever indebted to him. He has saved my life so many times that I don’t think I would ever be able to repay him.

I lie down in front of him and as I watch his steady breathing, I fall asleep too.

◄ Previous Part | Next Part ► 

[mrsmarymorstan]

Bed Time Stories

So I was listening to “Thud!” from the Discworld series and my heart absolutely melted at the scene where Vimes reads to Young Sam. I then sent a WhatsApp message to @cersei-the-truth-bombardier​ telling her as such, and then proceeded to go to a Fígrid AU which then turned into mild angst which turned into me sending Cersei figrid drabbles at 9am my time whilst she was fast asleep. I’ve tidied it up and put it on here for you all to enjoy as well. 

Rune stones were more than just talismans. They were oaths, promises put down in unbreakable, everlasting stone. Once accepted they could not be returned and you had to fulfill the promise or else face the consequences. Fìli held a runestone in his pocket at all times. It said "amkubê" which meant 6:00pm, every day, landslide or gold rush. It more often than not also meant running, panicking and a few insulted noblemen. "I don't see why their nanny can't do it! What's the point in having one if you don't use them." Huffed Lord Flòki. "If he'd have just seen sense married an actual dwarf he'd not be in this mess." Added Lady Unna snidely. However Crowned Prince Fìli had already fled the room. There were more important things in life than mining rights and clan disputes. "Now come on you dirty little badgers and settle down before your father gets here!" "Too late, he's already here!" Said Eikin smugly, twisting round mid jump. His sister, Éolist, let out a war cry and hurled herself towards her father. Fìli gave out a theatrical winded noise. "Ambushed in my own Kingdom!" He cried, securing his grasp around Éolist as she pretended to fight him off. It was a game he remembered playing with his own father. Her brother went back to bouncing on the bed, this time out of excitement. The blankets were a complete mess and the general chatter suggested that bedtime was all but canceled.

"Eikin, Éolist,” warned their nanny, a raging fire burning in her eyes now “if you don't behave I will make certain that there will be no story tonight at all, or any night there after!” "No, Dara, it’s fine! Leave them to me. I'm their father, I've got this." Dara gave out an unconvinced noise but left them to it nonetheless. Despite her words she’d never actually stop Fìli from reading to them. She knew how much it all meant to them, especially to Lady Sigrid.   "Come on you two," Fìli sighed, dropping Éolist onto the bed where she promptly pulled on her brother's ankles to drag him down with her "You should be nicer to Dara, she's the one who has to run everything around here." "Yeah, but you're the Crowned Prince. So really we just need to be nice to you." "No we don't! We need to be nice to Uncle Thorin because he's the King." Fìli let out a noise of dramatic hurt "Well! If you would rather have Uncle Thorin here I can go get Uncle--" "Nooo!" Chorused the twins, reaching out to grab him by the sleeve. "We're sorry! We'll be good!" "We promise! Please stay, please!" "Well alright then." Sighed Fìli, flopping down into his chair again, trying his best to hide his smile at their triumphant cheers.  "So what story do you want to hear, the three little goats? The Raven and the mining stone? Snow Beard and the seven elves?" "The princess and the dwarf!" They said in unison. "Again?" he asked, raising a weary eyebrow. That story always took it out of him. So many years on, and it was still mingled with same pain and happiness. He wanted all his children to know it, the twins most of all, but it didn't make it any easier for him. "Yep! It's our favourite." grinned Éolist "Plus you can never do the voices right for the 3 goats; Uncle Kìli can though." "But we don't want him we want you!" Added Eikin quickly, ignoring his sister before she could get them into anymore trouble. "Alright fine, but you better keep quiet during it." The pair of them nodded, and crawled closer to listen. "Well, as you are both aware," he began "every dwarf knows the story of Smaug the terrible and how a band of silly dwarves, and one brave hobbit, set out to defeat him and reclaim their home." Fìli always made certain to include Bilbo in the story. Without him they would all have died a hundred times over. "Some even tell the story of Elven Siren's seduction of the innocent Dwarf Prince," "That one's rubbish though," whispered Éolist "everyone knows Auntie Tauriel's the one who got seduced." "But, the one they often miss off," Fìli continued, ignoring his daughter's very accurate statement "is the story of the young princess and the simple dwarf who fell in love with her." The kids squished closer towards him, Eikin clambering into his lap whilst Éolist snuggled deeper into his arms. They curled up close to his warmth, and their large blue eyes made Fìli's heart melt just as it had when they'd first opened them. He took a breath, and continued on with their story. "The princess was not always a princess you see. Whilst she was brave, and kind, and beautiful and all the other qualities a princess should be;” Éolist gave a snort of laughter at that but didn’t interrupt any further “the girl was in actual fact, the daughter of a bargeman. Her mother had died very young and so she had to play mother to her two siblings. But the princess did not mind, for she loved her family more than anything else. "Her family were very poor though, and as such her father had to take up some less than legal practices. One day he returned to their house with 13 dwarves and one hobbit. They gave her quite the shock when they climbed up out of the princess' toilet! "Yet still she showed them kindness, handing out warm blankets and clean clothes. She even made them tea, though some were not as grateful as they should have been. “Later that night, the dwarves snuck out the house to try and steal some weapons to get to the mountain, but were caught in the act and almost arrested! But they promised the town that if they helped the dwarves get to the mountain, then they would reward them with piles of silver and gold. "The Bargeman warned them all about what their task would involve, but the silly dwarves ignored him. "What some of them didn't know, though, was that one of the dwarves them had been injured on the journey by a poisoned wound from an orc's arrow. His leader refused to let him come with them to the mountain, but the dwarf's brother had made a promise not to leave him. They went looking for help but the only home that would take them in was that of the princess. "She set about trying to fix is wound as best she could, using every skill she knew. When the orcs came she tried her best to protect her little sister, just as the dwarf tried to protect his brother. When the elves came and saved the dwarves, the Princess got back to helping them. Slowly the dwarf's brother got better! In that moment of peace the dwarf and the princess talked about their lives and about each other. They had a lot more in common than one might think at first.

When the dragon came down from the mountain they all escaped in a boat together, the princess making sure they all had hats and scarves to keep them warm. She did not waver, even though her father was missing and she was about to lose be everything that she'd ever known. Their house, filled with all the memories of her mother, would be burnt to cinders. By the will of the Valar they'd somehow all survived. It was even the princess' own  father and brother who worked together to kill the dragon, bringing an end to his terror in a way the dwarves had never managed. "Later by the shore the dwarves set out to find out if their own family had survived. The dwarf tried to return the princess' scarf however she refused it, claiming that he could return it to her later once all things were settled. "All the meanwhile though, the orcs had been planning their next attack and so as soon the princess and the dwarf were thrown together they were torn apart. There was a battle you see, as everyone tried to defend the mountain from the attacking orcs. It was not the kind of battle you hear about in legends where the good survive and the evil die, for this was a real battle and that meant blood. Elves, men and dwarves all gave their lives so as the mountain would remain a stronghold to keep people safe in the future.”

When he became a father himself, Fìli had sworn to never glorify the battle. He knew now that they were not glorious or noble, they were filled with pain and suffering. Battles were best avoided, if they could be. That way you understood why you were fighting the ones you needed to.

“The dwarf had thought himself to have died on the battlefield when he’d taken a sword to the chest, yet a voice inside him kept him fighting and when he awoke it was to the princess' melody. She'd been caring for him. Cleaning his dressings and keeping infection at bay, all the while singing a gentle tune. “Once more, the dwarf tried to return her scarf but again, she refused; it was winter, and he would still have use for it. The dwarf argued back that she would need it too, but she insisted on calling it a gift. The dwarf cherished it more than any gift he'd had before. “He healed and slowly life returned to the mountain. The men had set up a new home and the two nations began to broker a lasting peace. The dwarf and the princess wrote many letters to one another in that time, and slowly grew to know each other more deeply than they'd have ever thought possible. They shared their hopes, their worries and the nightmares that still plagued them of the horrendous sights they'd seen. If you were to read those letters you would see the deep love they bore. “However, this was apparently not so clear to them themselves. A dwarf and a man was not a relationship people had heard of before. Indeed, it was not until the subject of marriage was raised that they even realised what they were feeling. You see, for men, finding a spouse is not about discovering your One and sharing that love with the rest of the world; it was a business contract, especially true amongst royals whose marriages were often used to seal political alliances. “The dwarf understood this. Or at least he attempted to. However he could not stand the fact that she was to be married to someone she had not even met. He tried to be respectful, however his fear that she would be unhappy ate away at him morning, noon and night. “He ended up going down to the city to speak to her. He wanted to be sure that she was happy to be married in this way. She smiled and she claimed excitement over her wedding preparations but the dwarf could see that it was faking it all. “He told her this. That he could not stand by and watch the princess marry for anything other than love. “In surprised fury, she asked him who else she could marry? Who else would give her people all they needed? If she married then it would mean her siblings could avoid the same fate. Plus it wasn't as though there was someone else waiting for her! “But the dwarf realised that there was. He didn't know how to say it though. So instead he respected her wishes and left her alone.

“The day of the finally wedding ticked around. The dwarf felt powerless to stop it. There could be nothing else anyone could do. “He still went to the wedding though, for even if she did not return his feelings then he could at least remain her friend. To everyone's surprise though the wedding was stopped in mid ceremony! Not by the princess as you might think, but by her groom! He told the room that he could not marry the princess because it would not be fair on her to be married to someone who could never love her the way she deserved. He would not allow his own heart's desires to be ignored anymore. He fled the building, leaving everyone in total uproar. "The dwarf was in a fuming rage that anyone could possibly hurt his beloved in this way! He went to find her, thinking her to be in tears but instead she was laughing. "The dwarf asked her why, and she confessed that she'd considered doing the exact same thing; except her groom had got there first. "The dwarf was confused. Who could it be she was in love with? "The princess laughed and told him he really was sillier than any dwarf in the land and kissed him. It was the kind of kiss you hear about in fairy tales. A kiss of true love that makes all the world come to a stand still. “Though many would try and stop them from being together, they never let it bother them. The pair of them married, and never were they happier than when they were together. And despite what many might have said, their love made the kingdom stronger, and so they lived happily ever after, till the end of their days." There was silence for a moment. Fìli involuntarily pulled his children closer to him, feeling suddenly desperate to never let them go. "I miss Mam." came a small voice at last. "Me too my little Colt. Me too." "I wish she could tell us the story instead, Frerin said she was really good at bed time stories." "Kendra said she was much better at telling your story than you ever were." Fìli gave a small chuckle, willing himself not to cry. It wasn't fair that they did not know their mother. They were only twenty-four when she'd died. The healers had said it was her heart. Sudden attacks like that were not unexpected at her age. But sixty was no age for a dwarf.