#my theory/hope is that they are getting the ceiling hole in the office fixed so they havent been able to record

[dreamingalto]

The Phandom in 2024 experiencing withdrawal after a week since the last DAPG upload (and about 5 days since Phil uploaded on AmazingPhil)

[emmerrr]

Hii for the fic prompt: pynch + "come over here now and bring a tarp"

Lie-ins were a rarity for Adam.

It was a Sunday, which meant Ronan had to go to Mass, and Adam would see him whenever he got done spending time with his brothers. Gansey, Blue, and Henry were spending the weekend at Georgetown with Gansey’s parents, going over their summer road-trip itinerary. As for Adam, he had no homework to finish, no job to go to today, and he was sleeping in.

He was woken around eight thanks to what sounded like a torrential downpour outside, but it soon quietened down to the nice comforting sound of steady rainfall, and Adam smiled and snuggled further into his blankets and fell back asleep.

He was yanked jarringly out of sleep an indeterminate amount of time later by his phone vibrating on his makeshift bedside table. The phone was new (to him at least; he’d purchased it second-hand) and so he was still getting used to it. Gansey and Boyd were really the only ones who called him, seeing as Ronan was allergic to his phone and was with Adam most of the time anyway, and Blue still didn’t yet have her own. Henry was in touch often, although strictly through text messages; a slew of emojis that Adam left unanswered most of the time.

He reached for the phone with some trepidation, as no doubt it was Boyd calling to ask Adam to come in last minute. His spirits lifted immediately when it was Ronan’s name on the caller-ID, although this was quickly replaced by panic, as it seemed like the only reason Ronan would be calling was because something terrible had happened.

Adam sat up, fumbling the phone in his haste to accept the call.

“Hello?”

“Parrish. Good, you’re up.”

His heart settled; Ronan’s tone was too casual for there to be any dead bodies to bury. Ronan continued, “I’m at Monmouth, come over here now. Bring a tarp.”

…Or maybe there was a dead body to move.

“What?” Adam said.

“Also a ladder, if you have one.”

Adam did not have a ladder. “What?”

“A mop, too,” Ronan added.

“What?”

“Stop saying what.”

“Start making sense!”

Ronan quickly relayed the gist of the situation: he had gone to Monmouth after Mass to pick up some of his stuff to take back to the Barns, and had discovered a hefty leak in the roof, pouring water into the apartment thanks to the deluge they’d had. To sum up, Ronan required assistance.

After hanging up the phone, Adam hurriedly washed his face, brushed his teeth, and got dressed before grabbing his keys and heading straight out.

He had exactly none of the things Ronan had asked for, but he managed to borrow a mop from Mrs Ramirez who was still in the St Agnes office, and he swung by Boyd’s to see about borrowing a ladder and some tarp.

He pulled into the Monmouth lot fifteen minutes later, and Ronan appeared at his elbow as he was pulling tarp out of his back seat.

“Oh nice,” Ronan said appreciatively, and he helped Adam carry it up. “This should do the trick.”

Adam left Ronan in the apartment with the tarp and went back down to his car to grab the mop and and the step-ladder Boyd had let him borrow. When he returned, he got a good look at the damage for himself.

The leak was in the centre of the room, coming from the highest point and still steadily dripping into a bucket, which was on top of Gansey’s bed, which had a giant wet patch under the bucket obviously from before Ronan had got there and seen what had happened.

“So…what’s the tarp for?” Adam asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I was gonna cover Gansey’s bed with it, keep it from getting more soaked than it already is.”

“You didn’t consider moving the bed out of the way of the leak then?”

Ronan’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “No,” he said thoughtfully. “No I did not.”

Together (and quickly), they moved Gansey’s bed well out of the splash zone, and Ronan lay down the tarp where it had been, emptied the bucket out of the window, then put it back under the leak.

There were a few wet spots on the floor where the leak had splashed over, and Adam got to work mopping them up.

Ronan looked at the step-ladder. “What the shit is this?”

“It’s a ladder.”

“A baby ladder for babies, maybe,” Ronan scoffed. “I need a big one. I’m gonna dream a fix for the leak, but I’ll still need to get up there to put it in place.”

“Then you should have been more specific,” Adam said easily. “And also, how the hell was I supposed to fit a full-sized ladder in my tiny car?”

Ronan shrugged as if to say “not my problem”, then stood at the edge of the tarp, looking up at the leak.

Adam carried on mopping and said nothing, because Ronan was clearly thinking.

After a minute or so of Ronan quietly muttering to himself, he said, “That might work,” then came over, took hold of Adam’s hand and led him through to his room.

He lay down in his bed, pulling Adam down with him.

“Not that I don’t love where this is going,” Adam said, “but how will this help, exactly?”

“Mind out of the gutter, Parrish. I need to dream.” Adam pouted and Ronan laughed, kissing him in consolation. “I’ll sleep better with you here.”

It made Adam glow to hear that, and when Ronan rolled over onto his side, Adam pressed up against him, wrapping his arm around Ronan and holding him close. He kissed Ronan on the back of the neck and said, “Go to sleep. I’ll be here.”

Ronan hummed lightly in response, and a few minutes later, his deep and even breathing told Adam that he was asleep.

Adam wasn’t sure how long it would take for Ronan to get what he was after. It was hard to tell when it came to dream-stuff; sometimes Ronan would be in and out, sometimes he pulled out the wrong thing, sometimes he pulled things out accidentally, or sometimes it took hours.

Even if it took hours today, Adam wouldn’t mind. He nestled into Ronan’s warmth, his palm over Ronan’s heart. He liked the steady beat under his hands that told him Ronan was alive. Adam didn’t much like sleeping alone either these days.

He was just starting to drift off himself when he felt Ronan stiffen in his arms, the telltale sign that he’d brought something back. Adam carefully sat up and leaned over to watch as whatever it was materialised in Ronan’s frozen hands.

It was still so bizarre to watch something appear in what had just been empty space, no matter how many times Adam had now witnessed it. It was like your mind forced you to blink to compensate for the weirdness of it.

Adam blinked.

In Ronan’s hands was a grey…substance. Adam wasn’t sure what it was made of. He didn’t want to touch it. It looked sticky.

“Ronan,” he said, knowing Ronan could hear him even though he couldn’t move yet, “I hope you don’t need help to fix this leak because I am not touching that thing.”

Adam started to count the seconds, and he was up to fifty-two when Ronan’s eyebrows twitched. At just past a minute, a grin spread across Ronan’s face and he sat up, brandishing his efforts. Adam reared back, pulling a face.

“I didn’t dream it to be pretty, I dreamt it to plug a hole.”

“What’s it made of?” Adam asked dubiously.

“Fuck knows,” Ronan shrugged. “Dream stuff. It’s like silly putty kind of. C’mon.” He got up and Adam followed him out of his room.

“In the dream, it stayed pliable like this until you mould it in somewhere, and then it hardens to whatever that material is. So in theory…”

“…It’ll patch up that leak and also be a perfect match to the roof?”

Ronan gave Adam a thumbs up. “Exactly.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Only question is how we get it up there.”

“I can’t get a bigger ladder,” Adam said.

Ronan waved this off as inconsequential. Then he laughed. “I’m gonna have to throw it.”

“Uh huh, okay, interesting. Quick question; what if you miss?”

Ronan almost looked offended. “Who do you think you’re talking to, Parrish?” He looked up again. “Alright, fair enough though, it is quite far.”

Scientific curiosity started to get the better of Adam and he took the stuff from Ronan. It really did feel quite a lot like silly putty.

He pulled at it, testing the viscosity. “Will it even adhere properly to the roof if you throw it?”

“It should,” Ronan said absently, looking around the room for something to assist in his efforts. His eyes lit up. “Oh, I have an idea. Help me with the pool table, would you?”

“Is this going to be a good idea?”

“I don’t know, let’s see.”

The pool table was heavier than the bed had been, but they managed to get it close enough, and then Ronan grabbed Adam’s borrowed step ladder and set it up on top of the pool table.

“If I stand on that, I’ve got a much closer shot to throw it at the hole in the roof.”

“You also have a much higher chance of falling off and breaking your neck,” Adam said helpfully.

“There’s that sunny attitude,” Ronan said cheerfully, and hopped up onto the pool table before climbing the step ladder. “Pass me my gunk.”

Adam wrinkled his nose. “That sounded gross and you know it.” He stepped up onto the table and passed Ronan the dream silly putty magic fix. Then he wrapped his arms around Ronan to keep him steady and pressed a kiss to his hip. “I love you, please don’t fall.”

“I’ve got this,” Ronan said confidently, then tossed the grey stuff straight up.

His aim was good, and it hit the ceiling with a squelch. The dripping stopped immediately, and Ronan looked down at Adam, triumphant. “See? And you doubted my genius.”

Adam didn’t even have a chance to respond before Ronan’s dream fix lost its grip and fell right back down, landing on the pool table at Adam’s feet. The rain immediately started to trickle back through, splashing off Ronan’s head.

“You were saying?” Adam said dryly.

Ronan climbed down and they hurriedly moved the pool table back out of the splash zone, then put the bucket back out. 

The absurdity of the situation suddenly hit Adam and he burst out laughing. “You had to mention your genius.”

“It would have worked if I had a proper ladder so I could reach properly!” Ronan insisted, then he sighed. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“I mean, not any time soon,” Adam admitted.

“What do we tell Gansey?”

“We tell him he needs to call a roof repairman. And we suggest he gets a new mattress.”

“If he kept his bed against a wall like normal people this wouldn’t have happened,” Ronan said.

“So it’s his own fault really.”

“Obviously.”

Neither of them were heartless, so they stripped Gansey’s bed and threw his rain-damp sheets in the washing machine, although there wasn’t much they could do about the mattress. At least there were other beds in Monmouth that Gansey could sleep in considering Ronan would be sleeping with Adam that night.

They made sure the tarp and the bucket were in place and all the wet patches on the floor were mopped up, then Ronan took a picture of the set-up on his phone and sent it to Gansey, captioned it ‘lol’ then promptly turned his phone off.

He reached out his hand to Adam. “Alright, our work here is done. Let’s go on a date.”

Adam snorted. “Yeah? What do you wanna do?”

“Don’t care. Anything. Nothing.”

Adam twined their fingers together. “Nothing sounds good. But pizza first.”

“Pizza first,” Ronan agreed, and together they headed out into the rain.

[imbumkyung]

I Saw It In A Movie One Time (ch.4) - Acting

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

Warnings: none!

“Well the good news is, the cast should only be on for about a month, and you can go back to regular activities within eight weeks,” the blonde, golden eyed doctor advised.

The room you were sat in was glum. You remember it this exact way from the movie. Dr. Cullen’s hair swept back with a white coat on, eyes focused on the document in front of him being held by a clip board. We was writing things down, probably prescribing her some medications or as her friends liked to call it— hardcore drugs.

Kai reminisced that comedy segment that John Mulaney did about lying to his doctor for Xanax. She considered the same trick on Dr. Cullen, but feared that he would deny her since marijuana and other drugs were still taboo in 2007. Still, her mouth ran faster than she could process.

“Hey uh, sometimes I get nervous on airplanes,” she stated

God. I have to blame my ADHD on that one.

“Ah,” he nodded, “well I hope you won’t be going on any airplanes anytime soon then,” Dr. Cullen replied with a smile

Dammit. No Xanax for me then.

He finished writing but not without leaving a signature at the bottom of the page and sending me off with a smile. As she was leaving the room, she happened up bump straight into the hardest and coldest figure she’d ever felt.

“Sh— sorry man,” she apologized. She looked up for a split second and instantly regretted when she did

Edward

His eyes narrowed, making her feel smaller, “I remember you,” he stated

She said nothing, but ducked her head and rushed away as fast as she could. Her sense of accomplishment for getting away was cut short by a cold hand wrapped around her upper right arm. At this, she tensed and gave him a cold look.

“It’s not nice to grab people,” she spat

“How do you know who I am?” He asked gently

“The last time someone asked me that I got this,” she raised the cast on her left forearm. Unknowlingly revealing she knew about Victoria as well. The sound of her screaming in pain and the events of Victoria effortlessly snapping her arm played in her head.

“Besides,” she shrugged her arm from his grasp, “I’ll be out if your way soon”

Unwillingly, she remembered the time she tried to kill herself back to go back to her normal life and the next image that flashed in her head was her driving at over 100mph, then closing her eyes and sealing her fate. It wasn’t a set-in-stone kind of plan, but it was an idea that came up on the spot.

Edward cringed, “that— that’s not neccessary,”

“What’s not neccessar— oh. Stay out of my head please,” she remembered, he can hear her thoughts, but she wasn’t aware that any form of imagery would translate for him.

“You know I can read your thoughts,” he stated.

“Look, I’d love to explain everything, but I really gotta go. My mom needs me home to uh...” she paused, scrambling in her head for an excuse “take care of my brother— Don’t speak to me if you ever run into me again. Please,” she walked out of the hospital as fast as she could, deciding she didn’t need any of the medication. She just needed to get away.

-

Needless to say, Kai was stressed. Stressed that she’s attracted so much attention from the characters. Stressed that said characters had even seen her. It put her in danger. Victoria even knows about her now, and now that another human besides Bella knows of their existence— it’s a crime to the bloodsuckers.

Upon realizing this, Kaileia’s eyes widened.

Her knowledge of them had been exposed to two vampires. Theres no one to protect her from this— Bella’s safety was secured because Edward was her mate. Kai had no one. She’d avoided becoming friends with anybody at all in fear that any connection would lead her to the vampires or the wolves.

Slamming open the door to her bedroom, she scrambled for the journal she bought months back. It had been weeks since she last documented her experiences, but after today, it was time for an update

“Victoria caught me today and broke my arm bro. At least it was my shitty arm. I havent had an actual conversation with anyone besides Jeremy who interviewed me for the job I have now. Carlisle fixed my arm as if theres no other god damn doctors in forks dAMMIT MEYER. Then edward radiated some REAL Serial killer energy today like hOLY SHIT he can read my thoughts. I just wanna go back to where my only problem was my mom. She wasnt even that much of a problem tho tbh. But its Not like blood sucking vampires and their werewolf enemies. Kendrick Lamar isnt even famous yet. No one knows who Chance the Rapper is. Everyones obsessed with the pussycat dolls and I dont even think they know about Chris Brown beating up Rihanna. At this point, I’ve definitely missed the area 51 raid and I’m disappointed.

Not gonna lie tho, I’ve been running from it all this time and it’s worked until now. I was faced with just the greatest danger ever and now I’m getting sucked in. I’m really hoping I never have to mean anything to them. I’m also wondering what happens after it’s all over? I don’t want to write what it is here, because if someone finds this I don’t want to change the future, but after that last chapter, where do I go? I can’t live here forever. I have my own life.

I wonder if my dogs miss me. If anyones feeding them the right amount, walking them twice a day. Do my parents know I’m gone? Its been over half a year and I’m still here”

Her hand started cramping and she shut her book, flinging her pen across the opposite side of the room, thought instantly regretting it because she may think of other ideas to write down. Kai lay flat on her bed, letting go of any control she had over her muscles and stared at the ceiling. Things were starting to get a lot more intense. It had her shaken that she might have to be involved in order to stay safe.

There was no evidence supporting her theory, but Kai believed in order to go back to her old life, she cannot die by the hands of another person.

(Fourth wall break)Yes, it’s a plot hole. Smeyer had a lot of those too and I’m writing this impulsively. Give me a break

-

Edward pushed open Carlisle’s office door with force, “She knows,” he stated urgently, his expression stoic but panicked.

Carlisle furrowed his brows, “who?”

“That patient you just had,” Edward said, pointing back to the door behind him with his thumb, “She knows about us. I was in her head. Victoria broke her arm,” He rushed, taking a step toward Carlisle with wide eyes.

Carlisle’s eyes widened as well, “She’s in danger,” he stated

“We have to protect her,” Edward stated, “if Victoria kills her, the treaty is compromised,” He concluded, alluding to the treaty they had with the wolves.

Carlisle paused, trying to collect his thoughts, “I think this calls for a house meeting, actually,” he suggested, now standing with his arms to his side, “I can tell this concerns you, Edward.”

“I don’t want a fight with the wolves,” Edward explained, “Jacob was here for Bella while I was in Italy. He’s the one who told me she was dead,” he paused, Carlisle listening intently to his son, “I know if we fight, he’ll come for me first. And I can’t hurt Bella like that.”

Carlisle nodded, “We’ll let the rest of them know,” he said, referring to his family, “I think it’s best if the wolves know to protect her as well,” he suggested

“She doesn’t want to be involved,” Edward said, “it was the last thing she wanted. I don’t want to drag her into this life as well.” Edward was still beating himself up for bringing Bella into his world. Weather she wanted to be in it or not, he still wanted her to keep a normal human life. And if a normal human life is what Kai wanted, then damn it, he was going to let her have it

-

“So theres another human?” Rosalie seethed

“It’s not her fault—” Carlisle interjected

“It’s not her fault? Not her fault that she found out about us? How could she figure it out without dedicating so much time into figuring us out?” She accused the girl they didn’t know about. She knew Bella only found out because of the loads of research she did.

“She didn’t,” Edward defended, taking a step closer, “I don’t know how she knows, but she does. She doesn’t even want to be involved in this life,” he said gently, keeping eye contact with Rosalie

“So what do we do?” Esme asked, “If the Volturi find out she knows about our kind, they have no one to accuse except us. We’re the only coven in Washington.” She said softly

Everyone was staring hard at the ground, trying to grant Kai’s wish of not becoming involved, all the while knowing that the only real way to protect her was to stay with her at all times.

“She at least needs to know the that Victoria won’t stop,” Alice said, “she knows the Volturi would either blame her or us for exposing our kind.”

Carlisle pressed his lips in a tight line, “I’m sure she knows.” He sighed. Everyone shared quick glances before staring back to the floor in concentration, desperately trying to come up with a solution.

“She’ll need to get out of Forks,” Alice concluded, “Victoria is only here for Bella, I don’t think she’ll go for the girl until after her plan for Bella.” Alice believed Victoria was really only hungry for revenge, and this unknown girl wouldn’t be in danger until Victoria got what she wanted with her. However, Alice had no doubts that Victoria would be defeated before even having the chance to get to the girl.

“What’s her name?” Esme asked, “so we don’t have to keep calling her “the girl””

Edward shrugged, “I don’t know, actually.” He described her instead, “she’s short, black hair, tan skin and freckles” he recalled.

Carlisle nodded, the same description in his mind

Alice froze, and stared off into the distance, “It’s Victoria.”

Everyone stood alert. Alice was having a vision.

“What? What about her?” Jasper asked, his eyes not leaving hers.

“She’s in La Push” Alice sat, her eyes unmoving. Jasper handed her a pen as she sketched a store on one half of the paper writing “Minnie’s Stop” above it. Within a second, she moved her hand to the right, sketching out a house at the corner of a row of houses reading “Hilltop Rd”.

Edward’s brows knitted and shook his head slowly, “That’s not Bella’s street.”

“It has to be hers,” Esme said

Alice looked ahead incredulously, “she’s not going for Bella.” Alice snapped out of her vision, “If she was going for Bella, I would have seen something familiar.” This proved their theory wrong. She spared some time before getting to Bella. Why did she prioritize catching the unknown girl over avenging her mate?

The Cullens shared silent glances, knowing all too well that Victoria was hunting down the girl.

“She goes to La Push. We have to inform Sam.” Carlisle said sternly. He turned to Edward, “I understand you want to protect her from this world, but we can’t risk anything happening to her on their territory.”

Edward nodded and sighed. As opposed as he was to the idea, he knew Carlisle was right. He grabbed the keys off the table and bid his family goodnight, before leaving to spend the night at Bella’s

-

“You said she already knew who you were?” Bella asked concerned, a hand on his chest, her eyebrows together and eyes looking straight into his own

“Yeah,” he exhaled, “not just who but... what.”

Bella was confused, “how?”

“I wish I knew. She refuses to speak to me and guards her thoughts. Every time I try to read in, she stops saying things in her head,” he paused, “She knew I could read minds”

“Do you think there could be other... creatures besides your kind and Jacobs?” Bella asked, just above a whisper, “like— she could be a fairy or something,” she chuckled a bit, shaking her head at the idea.

“She was kind of short,” Edward shrugged and smiled at the memory of looking down at someone the size of a fifth grader.

“Get some sleep. We’re going to meet with Sam tomorrow and tell him everything. Alice saw Victoria hunting her down in La Push.” Edward advised and let her know their plans for tomorrow.

Bella nodded before snuggling closer to his chest and finally dozing off

———

WHOOP CH 4 IS HERE!!!

Let me know what you guys think!!

Ask box is always open for comments, critiques and suggestions! Or any feedback, really. Ya know what even if u wanna just say hi HAHAH

Its open for anything really

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Tags: @coffees-and-constellations @rosalies-hale @sunflowerspectre

[maple-writes]

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Charlotte led me through quiet hallways away from the rest of the hopeful applicants, the sound of their muted conversation slowly fading to silence. She walked with a long stride, shoulders back and each step more comfortable than the last, while I hurriedly shuffled along behind her. I swallowed and stole a glance at the back of Charlotte’s head. She wasn’t leading me into a trap, was she?

           I took a deep breath as we passed by an ornate spiral staircase twisting further down than I could see. Our feet landed solid against the stone, echoing hollow. I reached out and brushed the stone walls. They were rough under my fingers, buzzing with decades of stored memories. The muscles in my shoulders loosened. There was something comforting in their solid, unmoving grace. Nothing dangerous pushed through the haze of experiences. Good.

           Charlotte glanced back as our feet touched the basement floor. She gave an encouraging smile, the dim light casting soft shadows against the features of her face. “Almost there.”

           She led me to a door, solid, tall and made of a dark worn wood. Attached at eye level, stood a shiny brass plaque engraved with the name Ginger Lark. I swallowed. There was only one other door down here, and it looked to lead to something more like a closet than another office. Nerves coiled around my chest, but I forced myself to turn back to the door as Charlotte gave two knocks.

           “Ginger,” Charlotte called in a sing-song voice. “I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

           There was the sound of movement behind the door a moment before the reply. “It’s open, come right in.”

           Charlotte took the worn brass handle and pushed the door open, leaving it open for me to slip through in her wake.

           The office was huge. At least four times larger than Charlotte’s. Shelves of books and artifacts stretched towards the raised ceiling. Despite how clean everything looked, the air smelled musty and old. A long, ancient-looking desk sat neatly in the middle, books and papers and a computer placed neatly across the surface. The only thing out of place was the hot pink leopard-print water bottle beside the keyboard.

           A little door by the side of the office opened, and a woman stepped out. I froze. Something wasn’t right. I couldn’t… I shrunk back, heart racing in my ears. There was nothing. Nothing. No gentle aura around her self. Nothing. No more of a presence than the desk or the water bottle or any of the countless books lining the walls. My stomach wrenched and I stole a glance at the still open door, but Charlotte, whether intentionally or not, stepped between me and the opening.

           “Oh good,” Charlotte smiled. “I was worried we’d miss you.”

           The woman—at least, she’d been introduced to me as a person despite the warnings blaring through my head telling me otherwise—tucked her hands into the pockets of her bright pink athletic jacket. “Yeah no, I’m going nowhere fast.” She laughed and turned to me. “This who you were talking about?”

           Charlotte stepped aside. “Asher Sang.” She nodded my way. “Cambion.”

           “For real?” Ginger leaned forward curiously, bending at the hip. Strands of blonde hair fell from a messy bun. “You’re joking.”

           I shook my head, not sure if she were talking to me or Charlotte.

           “Wow.” Ginger blinked and stood up straight once again. “I take it you applied to the college?” She grinned, one side of her mouth curving higher than the other. “And you couldn’t trick ‘em?”

           I glanced between the two women, suddenly feeling horribly outnumbered. “I wasn’t trying to trick anyone.”

           But Ginger only laughed. “Chill, I didn’t mean to imply.” She jerked a thumb towards Charlotte. “She just brings me the surprises, that’s all. I also take it she offered you an apprenticeship?”

           Again, I nodded.

           “Well, then,” she reached out a hand. “My name’s Ginger Lark. Exorcist and supernatural specialist.”

           Cautiously, I took her hand but as soon as I touched her palm, a chill ripped across my skin. Nothing. Nothing. I couldn’t feel anything through her touch. No feelings, no tensions, nothing. Like touching an object. No, less than that. Instead all there was a hollowness, a void, nothing. Empty.

           Ginger let her hand slip from mine and tucked it back into her pocket but all I could do was stare. She and Charlotte frowned, but I couldn’t speak. Not now. Not while there was still the empty, hollow, empty hole boring deep into my chest and dragging down my gut. I couldn’t think, thoughts starting to slow and quicken at the same time. An icy cold writhed deep in my body, seeping through the very pores of my bones and infecting the soft marrow.

           Then Ginger’s face broke in horror. “Oh! You’re sensitive, aren’t you?” She leapt her desk and dragged a rolling chair around the side. “Here, take a seat before you pass out.”

           Vertigo knocked me hard and I half fell into the chair steadied by Ginger’s grip. My head collapsed to my shoulder as I fought against the void threatening to tear through my body from my bones to my muscles to my blood...

           “Don’t worry kid,” Ginger spoke softly in my ear. “It’ll pass on it’s own.” She paused as I pressed my eyes shut. “Charlotte, hold onto him.”

           A warm hand wrapped around mine and I worked my fingers between hers like my life depended on it. Tension and worry ebbed through her skin, spreading up my arm and slowly starting to replace the icy void. I forced my lungs to expand in a deep breath, then another, until enough of it had faded back, and I could finally open my eyes.

           I found Ginger sitting on her desk, legs swinging in the open air. She rubbed at the back of her neck as I finally looked up. I let go of Charlotte’s grip, though my hands still shook on their own. But fear shallowed my breathing. What was she?

           Ginger sighed and her feet stilled. “I apologise for that, Asher. I didn’t realise you had that… Ability.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her thighs. “I should have warned you at least.” Her mouth opened just enough for the points of needle-sharp fangs to catch the low light. “I’m not human either.”

           “Ginger is a vampire.” Charlotte added.

           I rested my head against the worn back of the chair and squinted. Then my eyes widened. Oh. Suddenly it clicked. Of course she wouldn’t have an aura like the living. With both pairs of eyes still fixed on me, I nodded to show I understood, but try as I might, the words weren’t ready to form in my mouth just yet.

           Ginger returned my nod and leaned back on her arms. “I really should have remembered that….” She glanced up at Charlotte. “You remember Wendy?” Pause. “Same thing. Couldn’t touch her.” She shook her head and turned to face me, calm understanding written across her face. “I don’t envy you kid. I can’t imagine the things you’ve had to feel against your will.”

           I shrugged, shuffling to sit myself up straight. By now my body was starting to feel more like mine again. “I’m used to it.” I paused. “Well, usually. I’ve never—”

           “Met a vampire?” Ginger cocked her head as I nodded. “Most people haven’t. I don’t take it personally.” She glanced from me to Charlotte, then back at me. “So… How are you feeling?”

           I managed a smile. “Better.” My legs still felt shaky, but at least now I could form words.

           “There ya go.” She nodded to herself. “If we do end up working together, we’ll find a way around that. There’s still a lot you can learn. I don’t have to touch you for that.” She glanced to Charlotte again. “After some time Wendy was able to develop a resistance, but that took years.” She shrugged. “Either way, I don’t see it as a reason to refuse you.”

           Charlotte’s face fell, sorrow flashing behind her eyes until she noticed me watching. She cleared her throat and nodded. “I think, provided Asher you are comfortable with this, that you would do just fine together.”

           Ginger pushed off from her desk and stood, slipping her hands back into the pockets of her jacket. “We’d focus on learning through practical experience. For the first bit you’d be learning a bit of theory and shadowing me where appropriate.” She shifted back and forth. “From there, you’d start assisting, and on a case by case basis, performing under my supervision.” She tapped the toe of her running shoe against the worn stone ground. “Eventually, when you’re ready you’ll still be eligible to be certified like the mainstream students when they complete their coursework.”

“Okay.” My voice still came out pitifully thin.

           “Here,” Ginger grabbed something from over her desk, then placed a business card on the arm of my chair. “Let me know in the next week or so what you think.” A hand when to the back of her neck and gave an awkward laugh. “I can’t make you choose at least until you’ve had a little time to clear your head.”

           “Yeah.” I took the card, and gripped the arms of the chair to push myself to my feet. I swayed, head spinning for a moment until I found my balance again.

           “Alright then.” She smiled. “Talk to you soon then, eh?”

           I nodded and tucked the card into my pocket, fatigue slowing my thoughts.

           “Good.” Charlotte straightened her back. “I’ll lead you back to the entrance. Easy to get lost down here.” She beckoned, turning towards the door.

           I gave a final, tired smile to Ginger, “thank you.”

           Ginger took her seat at the edge of her desk and returned my grin. “Get some rest Asher. Talk to you soon.”

 By the time I got home the sun had started to sink below the horizon and the night chill had begun to creep into the breeze. The front door was unlocked, and when I stepped inside, I was welcomed by the smell of cooking meat and garlic. I shut the door softly and tugged off my shoes, calling out a greeting that echoed through the house.

           “Hey,” Striker called back from the kitchen. “How’d it go?”

           I rounded the corner and stopped by the island. Striker glanced back at me over his shoulder, seeming to be finishing up with something in in a pan. I settled into one of the stools and rested my elbows on the surface of the counter top.

           “I, uh…” I fished Ginger’s card from my pocket and placed it face up on the table.

           Striker frowned and turned away from his cooking. “You okay?” He reached across the island and pressed the back of his hand against my forehead. “You look pale.”

           I pulled back tiredly. “I’m fine.” I shook my head and rested my cheek on my propped hand. “Just… drained.”

           He didn’t look convinced, but he drew his arm back. “They pushed you that hard?”

           “No,” I shook my head. “The test went, well, I don’t really know.”

           Striker frowned.

           I continued, rubbing my thumb over my cheek. “They figured out I’m a cambion, so I can’t be a student.” I dropped my arm to the counter. “Said it wouldn’t be safe.” I saw Striker start to speak, but I cut him off. “But! The dean offered me an apprenticeship instead.”

           A smell like something burning came from the stove. Striker swore, whirling towards the pan and hastily removing it from the heat. He threw open the windows and tried to fan away from the smoke detectors. I yawned. It was a good thing Ginger let me go home and think: I wasn’t sure even how much longer I would be awake for, let alone have well-processed thoughts.

           When Striker finally got most of the smoke out of the kitchen, he turned and leaned against the opposite side of the island. “So, tell me about it.”

           I told him everything I could remember Ginger and Charlotte explained. By now it felt like hours and hours ago we’d spoken, but it wasn’t that long ago, was it? Maybe two hours at most.

           Striker nodded and rubbed at the hair starting to grow dark along his jaw. “What do you think?”

           I shrugged, bunching my shoulders beside my ears. “I don’t know.” But what was there to lose? “I don’t see why not, but I want to sleep on it at least once.”

           “Good plan.” Striker smiled. “I think it’ll be good. Maybe even more so than classes.” He turned back towards his heavily seared meat. “Especially in your case. She might be right in suggesting you’d do better with a more personalized approach.”

           That was true… I failed to stifle another yawn and covered my mouth with my hand. That foggy feeling was slowing rolling in and my body felt heavier with every exhale.

           Striker set the pan aside. “Well, dinner’s going to be a little longer than I thought.” He stepped back from the blackened meat. “We could use that for something else probably…” He added more to himself than towards me.

           “It’s fine,” I pulled myself to my feet. “I was thinking of just going to bed anyway.”

           “Oh, okay.” Striker nodded. “I’ll make you some anyway and put it in the fridge in case you wake up later.”

           Warmth seeped into my chest and I smiled. “Thanks.” I turned and started towards the stairs. “See you tomorrow.”

           He returned my good night and I left him to his cooking. Weariness tugging at my eyelids, I barely remembered to tuck myself into bed before I all but passed out.

 Asher.

I stood in a forest, looking down off a ledge to a dark lake sparkling in the halfmoon light. Clawed fingers reached out to steady myself as I crouched by a tall pine.

Asher, how are you? How long has it been? I’m sorry, time gets away from me.

It’s fine. I took a deep breath of the fresh mossy air, glowing eyes tracking bats flitting and diving to catch mosquitos above the lake’s surface. It’s been a while though.

Are you busy tonight?

I’ll visit, but I can’t promise I’ll be very lively.

A sharp-toothed smile spread across my face and I rose from my crouch. I’ll meet you in the usual spot then. I turned away from the lake, the dim moonlight casting a faint, horned shadow onto the leaf litter. Good evening, Ash.

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Resource Management, pt12

Word Count: 2675 Tags: @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @anotherotter @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @samaxraph99 @anotherotter  @outside-the-government @kingarthurscat @coyote-in-space @originalpottervengerlock @dolamrothianlady @curiositywillbethedeathofme @superheroesofbothuniverses @mtriestowrite @wanderingkat77

“So, Sunshine, what makes you so goddamn special that three quarters of your personnel file is redacted?” Barton asked as we walked onto the range.

“I have higher security clearance than you?” I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, other than solidifying his position as the king of all snark.

“Your training files shouldn’t need redaction.” He rolled his eyes.

“Well, I guess you aren’t as special as you think you are,” I quipped back. He stopped and turned to look at me. “What?”

“I hope you’re ready to work for it, Sunshine.” He flipped the range lights on and gestured to a stall.

“Agent Barton, I think we would get along much better if you just stopped calling me Sunshine. My name is Ellis, or Anna, or Annie, if you’re feeling really fond of me. But calling me Sunshine is just condescending. And rude. And if I weren’t ready to work for it, I wouldn’t have come out with you today. So if we can just start over, I think we might both wind up happier.” I crossed my arms and stared at him. He met my eyes and nodded, almost imperceptibly.

“Done.” He gestured toward the stall. “Step into my office, Ellis. I’d like to see exactly how terrible you are. Your trainer said you show hesitation and discomfort with your sidearm.”

“That sounds accurate.”

“What is it that makes you uncomfortable?” He asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, then, we’re going to hang around and shoot until you have a breakthrough,” he shrugged. He punched a button in the stall, and the target mount came rolling forward on a ceiling track. He attached a paper target, but it wasn’t person shaped. “This target won’t be as off-putting if it’s the idea of dropping a person that’s making you uncomfortable.”

I appreciated it because that was part of my issue, I was just too embarrassed to say anything. I felt awkward with the sidearm. I felt uncomfortable knowing that I was wearing something that had the power to end a life. Barton leaned back and watched as I shot at the target until my clip was empty. He reeled the target in and pulled it down to look at it without saying a word. I was secretly quite pleased with it. All my shots had hit the target, and I was starting to group the shots. It was a broad group, but it was a start.

Barton put a fresh target up and sent it down to the end of the range. He gave me a signal to go ahead and shoot, and stood directly behind me, just close enough to make me nervous, but far enough away that I could see him shifting in my peripheral vision. He was a completely different teacher than Phil. Of course, Phil had been interested before he started teaching me, so he’d seen an opportunity to combine teaching and flirting. But more than that, Phil wasn’t as guarded as Barton was. Where Phil was personable and easy to talk to, Barton was stiff and professional. And finally, Barton was not the least bit interested, and was maintaining a perfectly professional distance. I placed my sidearm on the counter in front of me, and waited for him to reel back the target. It was about the same. He traced his finger on the two furthest outlying holes.

“You twitch a little when you squeeze the trigger. I can see you’re trying not to. I think these were your first two shots. This time you’re only going to fire the first two, and we’ll see if I’m right,” he commented as he hung another target. When I had his signal, I fired the first two shots, and then put the gun down. He dropped the target on the counter in front of us, and pointed at the two shots.

“You’re not mentally prepared until your third shot.” There was no judgment, just observation.

“So how do I fix that?” I knew what he was saying was true. I was just not comfortable firing the weapon until a few shots were already gone.

“Practice. I mean, we could get into the psychology of why you hesitate, but I think most of that stuff is shit.” He flipped the switch to send a fresh target down the range. “Is it alright if I touch you, Ellis?”

“Of course, if you feel it will help,” I responded. He stood to my side and braced a hand under my own.

“I’ll hold you steady. A successful marksman, as I’m sure you’ve already been told, is aware of every part of her body. It’s about muscle memorization, and being inside your head enough that you know exactly when to squeeze the trigger on your exhalation,” he explained.

“I thought you said you didn’t buy into psychology.” It was a question.

“I don’t buy into fear. You’ve got some fear. So I need to help you eliminate that with confidence. And muscle memory, and routine. So that you don’t think about how you feel, and just think about the sidearm being an extension of you,” he explained and adjusted my hand a little before bracing his own hand under mine again. At his signal, I fired the weapon. He nodded, and I shot it again. I waited until he gave me the signal each time as I emptied the clip. I concentrated on how my arms felt, how my hands felt, where my shoulders were in relation to my hips and feet. It was similar theory to a lot of martial arts stances, when it was distilled down to its essence. The target floated forward, and Barton took it down and pointed at the grouping. It was better. It wasn’t like I’d instantly become a sniper, but it was a noticeable improvement.

We spent a few hours working through the various issues with my shooting as he pinpointed them, and by early afternoon my stomach was growling, but my shooting was significantly improved. Barton took down my final target and nodded.

“You’re a good student. You listen.” It was the first compliment he’d given me.

“I don’t want to waste your time, Agent Barton,” I acknowledged.

“Keep this attitude, and you won’t. And you’ll improve enough that we can come here as colleagues instead of as student and teacher.”

“I’ll never be as good as you!” I laughed.

“I didn’t say that,” he cracked a smile. “I just meant you won’t be an embarrassment.”

“Well, thanks then.” I couldn’t help but smile, despite the backhanded nature of the comment. I’d obviously made enough of an improvement that his disposition was improving. And to be completely fair, I would have been just as unimpressed with the assignment if I was in his shoes. He drove me back to my apartment in silence. It was kind of awkward and uncomfortable, but I fought the desire to babble at him, lest I say something to give Phil away.

“Did you know your personnel file has your relationship information in it?” He suddenly spoke.

“All the SHIELD personnel files do. They have information on every aspect of every employees life in them. I’ve often felt they’re too invasive, but considering the nature of the organization, I can understand why,” I answered.

“Your relationship information is redacted,” he stated.

“Like I explained before, Agent Barton, you have a lower clearance than I do,” I shrugged.

“Why the hell would your relationship information need to be redacted? I mean, I could understand if your partner was in a heavy cover situation, and it would keep you safe. But your guy was hiding in your room this morning. So it’s not like he’s in deep cover,” he puzzled. “Sorry, I just thought about that. It’s strange.”

“He is,” I blurted. “Heavy cover, I mean. He is.”

“With so little self control that he headed in for a booty call this morning?” Snarky Barton had returned. I fell silent. I couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t just dig me deeper into a pile of lies, or accidentally blow Phil’s secret. Barton pulled up outside my building.

“Well, uh, thanks,” I wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“I think we’re scheduled next for Tuesday. You should be trying to visit the range every day.” He looked at me, but it was more like he was looking through me, he was so intense.

“Right. See you Tuesday then.” I got out of the vehicle and headed into my apartment.

I was stretched out on the couch, reading a book when I heard my front door rattling. I rolled off the couch and crept over to my bookshelf without making a sound. I pressed myself against it, waiting for the door to open against it. It would give me sufficient cover to take whoever was trying to get in by surprise. I hadn’t thought to throw the chain on the door when I’d come in, and it was too late now. The door opened and stopped against the bookshelf, and without wasting time to look at who was entering my home, I stepped out behind him, gave him a quick punch to the kidneys and took him down, pinning his arms under me behind his back.

“Jesus, Annie! You gave me a key!” It was Phil. I rolled off his back and tried not to laugh. He rolled away from me and rubbed his back where I’d hit him.

“You could have texted and let me know you were coming back!” I exclaimed.

“I did, about an hour ago.” He picked up the brown paper bag he’d dropped when I’d jumped him. I pulled my phone from my pocket, but there was no message waiting. I force restarted it, and checked again. No message.

“I’ve got nothing.”

“Well, someone got my messages. We had a long conversation about wine,” he laughed, and pulled out his phone. He flicked through the message back to the original one, and confirmed it had come to me, and not someone on his team. I looked down at my phone and checked the setting and number, to make sure I hadn’t somehow managed to get Lex’s or Barton’s at some point during the day. It appeared to be my phone.

“That’s creepy. This is totally my phone, and our conversation record on my phone ends with your message from yesterday.” I felt a pang of warning in my belly. Phil must have had a similar response because he set his phone on the counter and grabbed my laptop. He connected the two and opened up a SHIELD window. After a few minutes, he shook his head and disconnected his phone.

“My phone is registered to an alias. The alias is still intact, so as long as whoever was messaging me was seeing the alias, it’s fine.”

“There have been way too many members of the Avengers Initiative hanging around me the last few days. Hand me my computer.” I’d encountered three of them in the past two days. I wasn’t taking any risks. I pulled up my HR files and opened Phil’s personnel file. As director of HR, I could see a list of anyone who had accessed the file. It had been accessed once a week ago and then once in the past 24 hours. I keyed in the passcode to reveal the viewer. It was listed as me.

“What the fuck?” I mumbled. I hadn’t viewed Phil’s file. I’d been too busy with restructuring, dealing with Fury and his training schedule, deflecting Stark’s weird dinner invites. “Stark. Shit. We have to get to the office, Phil.” I logged out of my laptop and opened the back of my phone. There was a barely noticeable clear film dot under my battery. I pulled it off and stuck it to the inside of the handle on my freezer. Phil peeled it off, and put it back in my phone.

“It’s better to not alert him that you’ve found it,” he said as he put my phone back together. I groaned and grabbed my keys.

“Let’s go. We have to find whatever bug or tracer he left in my office and destroy it,” I said. Phil nodded.

“That I will agree with. We’ll take Lola.”

We pulled into the underground parkade and Phil parked in my spot. The elevator felt so incredibly slow on the way up to the office. I tapped my foot impatiently.

“Relax, Anna. He’s had access for over 24 hours, he’s been into everything he probably wants to see.”

“He knows you’re alive, Phil,” I argued. “If he knows that, what else does he know?”

“Well, you know everything that’s in those files, Anna. It isn't just payroll codes and pension information. All our personal information is tracked too.” He gave me a meaningful look.

“He knows we’re dating,” I breathed.

“That would be my guess,” he nodded. The elevator finally opened at our floor. I stomped down to my office and threw open the door, half expecting to see Stark sitting at my desk. I went immediately to my Thor bobblehead and turned him over. Stark had put him down right beside my monitor, and I was sure he had the kind of tech that would allow for Wi-Fi sneakiness. Thor was untainted though. Thankfully. I moved to the Iron Man poster he’d had mounted behind my desk. I went as far as to open the frame and take it all apart. It was also clean. I went over my monitor, and desk, but they were also free of any kind of device. Phil had started on my bookshelf, but appeared to have been distracted by the Thor scrapbook.

“I will get rid of it if it bugs you that much, Phil,” I offered.

“There’s new pages in here. All about Iron Man,” he countered. He put the book down on my desk and flipped through the stuff Stark had added. I’d assumed he’d just written information into the book as a joke, and hadn’t had time to look yet. And he must have been banking on exactly that. The pages he’d added were some sort of plastic polymer, but you could see a faint outline of circuitry printed on them. I peeled a photo he’d stuck on one of the pages off, and it was obviously there to cover the main chip in the page. There was a faint red dot on the edge of the chip. I pulled a pair of scissors from my drawer and cut through the page. It was tough, but the light flickered out when I finally managed to cut through the centre of the page. I flipped to the next page, and did the same thing.

“I don’t understand why-“

“Anna, let me finish disabling this thing. You need to find out what all he’s accessed.” Phil held his hands out for the scissors. I sat down and logged in to my computer, and requested a listing of every file I’d accessed in the past 72 hours, just to be safe. The screen started filling with file locations. I opened a new window and accessed each file. Unsurprisingly, the first files were all the files on the Avengers Initiative. But then my file. And then Phil’s alias file. And with my security clearance, it automatically redirected into Phil’s file. After Phil’s file, each of the members of his team. And then a number of historical files. Goddamnit. Fury was going to kill me.

Phil took the cut pages over to the shredder and started attempting to shred them. I heard the main office door open, and looked up to see Stark walking in. I couldn’t warn Phil without alerting Stark. Phil glanced up and saw Stark and casually walked back to my office, and came to stand behind me. He squeezed my shoulder in reassurance.

“Annie.” With just that, I could hear the chastisement in Stark’s voice. “You’ve been keeping secrets. Phil, you look remarkable.”

[timetospy]

Contents: 00q, Q-branch sabotage, disgruntled employees

Warnings: canon typical violence, suspense

This one got really long on me, so I’ll put most of it under a cut.

“At about waist-level, you’ll see a switch, I think,” Q says, speaking to Bond over the comm.

Bond on mission is equal parts focused intensity, snark, and improvisation. It’s been a wild ride for Q learning how to roll with his punches. But also entirely worth it--

“Mm. Something else I’d like to have at waist level.”

--for the perks of the job. Namely dating one James Bond, 007.

He’s well aware that not everyone would consider this a perk. High likelihood of tragic endings, package deal with traumatic stress disorder. But what they don’t know, and Q does, is that the insufferable menace of 007 isn’t all he is.

“Finish the mission and bring back your equipment and maybe there will be something waiting for you at waist level,” Q replies.

“I hope it’s pink,” James returns, and Q can hear the smirk in his voice.

“You’ll have to wait and find out. Did you find the switch?”

“Flipped. Nothing happened.”

Q frowns. That switch should have powered down the external cooling system. He scans the schematics he’d retrieved weeks ago and swears.

“Problem?”

“There’s a backup system. It’s on the other side of the building.”

“I could have told you that,” Bond says.

“Shut up. Look, I think you can work around it--”

Q talks Bond through shorting out the system without actually blowing it up, and the agent does an admirable job. A job made much easier, of course, by the fact that this is a nearly-abandoned server farm and Bond has already incapacitated the two guards.

It had taken months of following traces almost too small to notice, but once Q had gotten the grains of rice lined up, he’d discovered that the bulk of the organization’s transactions flowed right through a server farm under a parking garage in New Delhi. Not exactly a target they could just blow up. And besides, if Q could hitch a ride on some of the outgoing packets…

So, 007 was sent out. In theory it was a simple mission, but Q knew how simple missions tended to become complicated and require explosions in Bond’s case, so he wasn’t holding out hope that this particular suburb of New Delhi would remain unscathed.

However, so far, so good. So maybe, for once in his life, Bond would get in, get out, and bring himself and his equipment back in one piece.

“Alright. The failsafe should have triggered, you should be able to access the machines now,” Q says, pulling up the external surveillance to make sure Bond is still within acceptable threat range. The streets appeared just as peaceful as ever.

“You’re sure the door’s unlocked this time?”

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you.”

“You nearly get hit by a train and see if you forget.”

“But you don’t have to bring it up every---”

A burst of static interrupts Q. Simultaneously, every light in Q-branch, every screen, even the emergency back-ups go dead. Q branch is plunged into inky blackness.

“Bond?” Q calls, uselessly. The comm is, like everything else, completely dead.

The branch descends into pandemonium. Q’s main objective shifts to restoring some kind of order to his office. He sticks finger and thumb into his mouth and whistles. Silence falls.

***

A deafening shriek blasts out of Bond’s comm, and he pulls it out of his ear and stars at it. He tucks it back into place.

“Q?”

No response.

“Q?” he tried, a little louder.

Silence.

“Shit.”

Bond throws the earpiece on the ground and crushes it beneath his heel. So much for bringing equipment back. But Bond has never been on a mission where his equipment malfunctioned - not while Q has been head of the department - and something twinges in the back of his mind.

He makes his way by memory back to the armored door of the interior of the server farm and it opens, just as Q promised. The entire room is floor-to-ceiling flashing lights and tangled wires, and Bond sighs. Q’s no good in the field, Bond knows that, with his fear of flying and other assorted personality quirks - most of which Bond finds oddly charming - but he’s always in his ear, guiding him through whatever disaster he’s found himself in this time.

There’s a very big part of Bond that wants to set his watch - a personal birthday gift from Q - in the middle of the room and beat a hasty retreat. But another, larger part of him knows that Q is counting on the intel he’ll get from whatever Bond has on the tiny speck of plastic Q handed him when he left.

Bond pulls the case out of his pocket, along with an adapter, and starts scanning the aisles for something that looks like he should be able to plug into.

It doesn’t take long, actually, to find an out-of-the-way spot to plug in, insert the plastic chip into the adapter, and tuck it away. Unless someone were looking for it and knew where to look, it would live there quite happily for some time. Without any further instructions, Bond has to assume that the thing will do its work itself, and finds his way up and out of the server farm, none the worse for wear.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials Q.

No answer.

The twinge in the back of his mind when his earpiece shrieked becomes a full-blown niggling, and as he in turn tries Moneypenny, M, and Tanner with equal success, the niggling becomes a suspicion and then a certainty that something has gone wrong in London.

As a last-ditch effort, he calls Tanner’s wife.

“Hello?”

It’s her. Bond’s shoulders relax a fraction.

“Hello, Moira. This is James.”

“Oh, hi, James. What’s up?”

“Is Bill around? He’s not answering his phone.”

“No, he’s at work. I just talked to him fifteen minutes ago - told him to bring milk home.”

“Oh, well, I suppose he’s just in a meeting then,” Bond lies, his hackles rising. He’s looking at a 10-hour flight to get home, plus however long it took him to get to and from the airport, and chafing at the thought.

“Probably. Next Thursday is your golf round, right?”

“Hm?” Bond had been thinking about logistics of travel and had barely heard her. “Oh. Yes. That’s right. At Sunbury, I think. A full round.”

“Of course it is. Start early, will you? I need him home for dinner.”

Bond smirks as he flags down a cab. “Beatrice coming over, is she?”

“Like I’d tell you. You’d putt the 19th hole for three hours.”

“I like to help out a friend when I can.”

“You’re awful, James!” Moira says, laughing. “See you next Thursday.”

“Bye, Moira.”

Bond tucks the phone back into his pocket, and not for the first time wishes that Q had invented teleporting.

***

By memory and feel, Q makes his way slowly around his desk and along the back wall of the bullpen to a small trapdoor.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.” The voice floats out of the inky blackness and Q hears several audible gasps.

“Higgins. I’m only going to re-start the emergency generators. You’ve already done your damage, at least let’s have some light.”

“H-how did you--” And for a split second, Q thinks that Higgins will just give up. Q takes the opportunity to open the panel and fumble for the handle. “Don’t do it! I’ll shoot you!”

Q closes his eyes, even though there’s nothing to shut out, and takes a deep breath.

“What are you doing, Higgins? You’re in the middle of Six. How long do you think you’ve got?” Keep him talking. Just keep him talking, the longer he stands there talking the longer security has to---

Q freezes. Security couldn’t get in. It was one of his own personal failsafes, though he never thought he’d actually have it triggered. In the event of a complete power outage, every single door in Q-branch locked. And he had personally seen to the composite steel bolts himself. It would take security an hour or more to cut through them - if they weren’t too busy controlling chaos elsewhere in the building.

“What am I doing?” Higgins chuckles, his voice pitching a little manic. “I’m having a little revenge, Quartermaster! Did you really think you could relegate me to obscurity, with your little coding projects and your patches? Did you really think I’d let you?” Higgins laughs, and Q hears him start to move. He must have FLIR goggles, because standard night-vision wouldn’t work in the complete darkness that Q-branch had been plunged into.

“Well, you got the drop on us Higgins. What did you use, an EMP?”

Higgins giggles. Q hears him walk across the floor, and then there’s a crash and a scream from near Robinson’s desk.

“Painfully simple, really. What use is a lab constructed as a Faraday cage if the pulse comes from inside?”

A few more steps, another crash, a muffled shout of panic.

“Truly brilliant, I’ll admit. What’s next? Now that you’ve got your revenge on us, what’s next?”

The footsteps stop.

“Why, so you can tell your part-time boyfriend my plans and sic him on me when he gets home?”

Q bites down on a retort - it’ll only make the situation worse and it’s already bad. But the damage is done, because Q remembers that James is in the field with zero backup and no way to ask for any. Q pictures explosions, gunfire, get-away chases, narrowly slipping into the airport ahead of pursuers. He has to get the branch back to some semblance of operation, even if he has to move the entire thing to Whitehall and run it on M’s personal mobile - which as far as Q knows is three years out of date and has little more functionality than a flip-phone.

The footsteps start up again, headed away, and Q takes the opportunity to slide his hand over the breaker switch and get a good grip on it. He takes a deep, silent breath and pulls the handle down as quickly as he can. There’s a clunk and a whoosh… and nothing.

“Buggering fuck,” Q mutters. Of course the backup lighting would have been knocked out - Q had never planned for the EMP to be activated inside the branch. Well, he’d fix that on his next round of improvements, if he ever got to make them.

“Oh, sorry, did you think I wouldn’t know to cut the backup emergency generator?” Higgins is back in his element - thinking he’s superior. But Q might have a small surprise for him, after all. He leans back against the panel, as though defeated, letting his left hand drift slowly, ever so slowly, back and under the breaker panel.

Higgins may have fried the circuits, but the wires were still live. If only he could… Q grins in the dark as he slowly begins unseating the feed wire from the breaker box. It would be tough in the dark to keep from electrocuting himself - he can’t see which wire is which - but if he plays his cards just right he won’t have to.

“You’ve thought of everything,” Q admits. “But you still haven’t told me how you’re getting out of here. The doors are all locked.”

“I have a little trick up my sleeve,” Higgins coos, really starting to get into it now that he feels he’s truly won.

“Oh really?” Almost there - just another minute or so and then Q will have it separated.

“Restore full electrical current to the lock and it disengages. Easy when you have a shielded, modified portable power bank.” Higgins’ footsteps are coming closer again, and Q honestly prays for the first time in his life that he’s got the distances calculated correctly in his head, because otherwise they’re all fucked.

“That’s ingenious, actually.”

“I know, I was wasted as a code patcher, honestly. Should have been in R and D. But I was passed over so many times. I’d had enough. And now you’ll have enough too.”

Three more footfalls, and Q can nearly feel Higgins looming over him. The cable comes free just as Higgins comes to a stop, and Q lunges, shoving the bare wires through Higgins’ trouser leg and into his flesh. Sparks fly and a bizarre purple glow sort of surrounds where Q has the cable shoved against Higgins’ leg. Q pulls back and Higgins falls, and then Q shoves the wires against Higgins one more time for good measure.

He only stops when he can smell the stench of burning polyester and hair.

Higgins is dead, and Q falls back against the wall and breathes.

***

Bond’s nerves are shot to hell when he lands. He’s had ten hours in the air to imagine every worst-case scenario, and all of them end with Q’s lifeless eyes staring up at him from the floor of Q-branch.

As soon as the wheels of the airplane touch down, he’s on his phone, trying every number he has - Q first.

The boffin picks up on the third ring.

“You’re alive,” Bond says first thing, and the relief is instantaneous. He nearly falls back into his seat as he queues for disembarking. “What happened?”

Q’s voice is shaky, but he laughs. “You’d hardly believe me if I told you.”

From this.

[jessdunn18]

dennis

@drfrankenhyde Dennis was a loner and had too much time on his hands. His thoughts often got the better of him. He was 6'2 pale and built like a plump ham. His parents commented on his biggest insecurities often. His father who was the shape of a tree stump would mock his weight. His mom who was like a mix of a hobit and a tomato would mock his complexion and his stature. His dark hair and eyes made everyone assume he was goth. Nope just depressed. He had a hunched posture that he only fixed when he had to serve up burgers to the ungrateful jackwads that pissed and moaned about "too much mayo" at the "sub slammer" a hoagie shop perched between a subway and a quiznos in his food court. He remembers what he thought the first time he saw the place on his 14th birthday while he was stood between his then friends Jake and Austin. "Is this some kind of a joke" However since then the subway had gotten a few too many bad health inspections. The quiznos had been taken over by sketchy people since it was the only food court area that was open 24-7 and it was virtually made uninhabitable by us normal folks.  Now he shoved out shitty knock off subs at prices that were just a dime or two under the prices and a hair or two below the quality. Literally there was a girl named libby making them whose hair was flying out like it was afraid of her scalp.

Each night Dennis went home, chucked his 4 dollar "SS" cap into the corner and perched himself in the tiny office chair in his room. A room that was meant for a 5ft nothin' highschool home coming queen. The ceilings were low the walls were beige and the door was a tone of peach only described as "Vomit". He'd sit in front of his computer searching and clicking and sometmes jacking off until his eyes were blood shot orbs of disturbed mass histeria. He watched conspiracy theory videos, he watched videos of people being blown to bits by bombs and high powered rifles. He'd go onto the 50/50 page of reddit and hope for the gruesome ones. He even winced in anger when he saw a puppy playing with bubbles once. He would usually wake up after slumping down and feeling the rush of cold drool against his chin stuble. Tonight was no different he stood up slowly and stretched making a shadow on his wall the looked like bruce baner turning into the hulk. "hah, i wish" he thought to himself.  He slumped over to his bed which was a twin. His parents really wanted a girl. He fell asleep as usually painfully heaped into a fetal shaped mess barely covered by his blankets. "God i hate this fucking room" he said and passed out. After 4 hours of something inbetween sleep and an awkward balancing act he woke up to a shouting match going on between his parents in the hall. He shook his head and stood up and hulked over to the door and looked out to see them screaming. "Dennis, will you tell your mother we are not..." "oh gee dad i'd love to bu-" *Door slam* "Fuckin' nuerotic windbags" Dennis sat back down his his chair and rubbed his eyes. He was going to give it another college try. You see he would just fuck around online at night. Trying to see shit taht would mentally scar himself. However during the day he researched ways to actively end his existence. "The sooner i'm dead the sooner these fuckers can either divorce or hate fuck and concieve the little girl they've always wanted" he coughed to clear out his throat and lungs.

"Uh...lets see here" he said talking to no one. "Suicide no pain...no mess..." he typed out those words and pressed enter. His slow computer took ages to load the results. "Oh come the fuck on..another reason to do it" he said and chuckled. "aha!" he saw the screen finish loading and a result came up that was an answer to his prayers. "...Dr. Marve for the psychiatirc college for human on human intervention invites anyone wanting assistane reaching their demise to take part in this ..." he continued reading and clicked on the link. He found a phone number and an address and walked down the street and used a pay phone so his parents wouldn't have any evidence of who was involved. They never wanted him and he didn't really think they loved him but...he new some how they'd be pissed at whoever helped him. He popped a coin into the all but rusted dial. He feverishly mashed the buttons almost missing the last seven with his burly hands.  The phone started ringing and he chewed his lip as the held the reciever to his ear. He smelled like a mix of sausage and B.O. "Uggghh now i know where the homeless sleep...uh..." just then a woman picked up. "Uhmmm...*clears his throat* ...is this Dr. Marves self end assistance office n 91124 bridgetown , washington?" "Why yes it is ,why is it that you're calling, ...?" "..well i...uh" "...just kidding we know why already just a little post post moterm humor" the woman said with a giggle and under any other circumstances this would have freaked him the fuck out. However he had called her. "uuhmmm ...anyway ..i was wondering if i could make an appointment for a consultation..I have the money ...." "Oh no its free the people who pay are the ones who apply to assist the dead" The woman said. "Oh...awesome..i mean...cool" He stammered. "Yes it is.." she said sounding almost evil. "uh..you mean this really doesn't like bug you? to work some where that helps with this sort of thing?" He asked feeling odd now about it himself. "oh no we just ask that the individuals make absolutely sure they have nothing to live for or leave behind. We don't like a lot of loose en--- i mean ...messy paperwork" She answered sounding as if she was smiling. "well thats me, i'm 22, no life, no friends,,nothing..not squat..so uhm when can i come in?" He asked getting back to the point. "walk ins are welcomed" She said seeming to soften up her odd eagerness. "great i'll be there this afternoon..bye" Dennis hung up and started walking to the bus station.

He came upon the bench which was empty. Which was good because the last thing he'd want was some old woman making small talk with him. He imagined the conversation in his head. Her asking him "where ya headed" him saying "to an appointment" and from there she'd either bore him about details about her ever present medical visits which would lead him to either rudely stare forward and ignore her or blow up in her face about how ..thankful he was about being on his way to kill himself. He saw the bus approaching and shook himself internally as to stop spacing out. He whipped out his bus pass and steped onto the bus. He got on and the bus smelled even worse than the phone reciever. Like a mix of pepper farts and garbage juice. "uggghhh now i know where the homeless fuck..." he said under his breath. He picked a seat. It was acrossed from a man wearing headphones and texting. He could make out the messages on the reflexion in the glass behind him.

"vanessa speak to me, its been two days, I know i proposed at lego land. i see that was wrong now i'm so so so so sorry.." *send noise* All Dennis could think to himself was ..glad I'm about to dodge that bullet. He smiled to himself and leaned against the back of the seat and dozed off.

He woke up to the bus jolting and him almost flying off of his seat. "Whoa shit!" he said catching himself against a somewhat sticky pleather seat. That had tears so old they now looked like old war wounds. He stood up and shook his head awake. He saw the clinic sign as he stepped off of the bus.

"Dr. Marve's, Where we make life complete" He rolled his eyes and began walking toward the door. The cliinic was a little hole in the wall. He looked like it used to be a chinese restaurant or something. It barely seemed big enough to do any kind of medical shit. He got closer to the door and looked the place up the down. "Hmm, guess this is as good a place as any to die" he shrugged and reached for the door handle. It creeked and he felt goosebumps rise up on his arms. "Christ!" he said he steped inside and a blinding light sent his pupils into spasms. His vision got a bit blurry "Oh shi-" he said blinking quickly so his eyes were adjust as the door shut behind him. "Welcome, can i have your name and why you want to die" he heard as his eyes regained focus. He recognized the voice from the phone. "Hi, I'm Dennis, people used to call me Denny, my dad calls me Denise!" He said sarcastically and walked up to the counter. "And why do you want to die?" The woman said a small smile that looked painted on stuck fast on her face. "A lot of reason, I'm overweight, my parents resent me, i have no friends, i work in the food court and i can't even make a pastrami on rye right..." he was cut off by the womans interuption. "no no...the most poinient reasoning, ...like...for instance if you were struggling with your sexuality, if you were in some kind of horrible chronic pain, if you were terminally ill and afraid that it would get worse, multiple personality disorder, someones threatened to kill you or maybe multiple someones and you wanna beat them to the punch" she said making a small punching motion inward like friends do in cheesy buddy movies as she smiled at him and tilted her head. "The fuck..? No...i just hate my life, ...don't peopl ever come in here wanting to die for that reason?" He asked almost becoming angry. "Yes...and some of this back out..and we like no mess as i've told you ...so i was just making sure..." she spat back at him and then looked down at some paperwork. "now....uhm lets see here the doctor can see you...." she paused for what felt lie 20 minutes. "Now...." she said perking back up and smiling at him. "...right through that door". She pointed at a large steel door that looked like something out of a psyche ward. "uh..thanks.." Dennis thanked her timidly and started lurching over to the door. There was no hint as to what was behind it...there was a small window but it was boarded up. Whiched seemed more than a little sketchy but Dennis didn't care. He was tired of being alive. He had been depressed and sad and emotionally devoid for too long. He lacked any kind of motivation or want or need out of life. He had nothing to lose and nothing to want. So he oppened the door and thank god it didn't screech at him and there were no blinding lights. Just a sign that said "don't touch wet paint." the sign looked old. He found a door that said "Dr. Marve" He knocked softly. "Uh..doc ya in there" He said feeling his voice crack and realizing how dry his mouth was. "One second suzanne..." he heard from behind the door and a few foot steps later and he was face to face with a man who didn't look like the kind of guy you'd think would want to end lives for a living. "Hello, you must be the young man who called earlier" he said smilng. "i spoke to your receptionists tho-" Dennis started. "i have all the phones tapped, so uhm..whats was your prefered method of...Danny..?" the Doctor asked him. "Its Denny...can i come in or...?" He asked. "Oh yes sure..." the Doctor said and leaped out of the way and two stepped back to his desk and sat down. Come take a seat. "Okay..." Dennis sat down and looked around. "Are you sure you are the right doctor, i mean you don't seem like the kind of person who wants to help people kill themselves" Denny said the doubt showing up in his voice. "What makes ya say that, is it cause i'm a doctor, aren't doctors meant to end suffering, life is suffering so by helping people end their lives i'm ending the leading cause of suffering" Dr. Marve said seeming a bit annoyed but stil too chipper for Dennis's liking. "hmm...Okay..ya talked me into it...You asked me my prefered method...what do you recommend?" Dennis asked sitting back and relaxing a bit in the chair.

Dr. Marve looked puzzled and also sat back in his chair. He spun around and looked out the window. "Well, that depends, Denny,...do you want pazazz and bang or something quiet...do you want a rush...or something small.." he slowly started turning back around. "..do you want TO BE COMPLETELY OBLITERATED ...OR DONATE THAT SLAB OF FLESH YOU CALL YOU TO SCIENCE?" He said finishing off yelling in Dennys face. Dennis didn't even flinch. "Doc, look i'm starting to think this place isn't legit. Between you and better bozo out there i'd swear this fucking place isn't an office or medical clinic at all, but just you and some bitch who escaped the psyche ward and wanna freak people out" He finished what he was saying and began playing with a loose piece of rubber on the sole of his shoe. Dr. Marve sat back down and brushed the small wrinkled out of his shirt.  "no no...i could see where you'd get that idea but no...i just like to get someons blood pumping one last time before it stops, now...how do you want to die?" He asked again this time quietly but looking Dennis straight in the eyes. He pulled out a syringe and walked over to Dennis. "what the hell are you gonna do with that?" Dennis said tensing up in his chair. "nothing...unless you want me too" The doctor placed the syringe on his desk and leaned on the edge of the desk with his arms crossed. "Hell, i'll even leave and you can do it." He said nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders before walking back to his chair. "okay. I wanna be put down in a decent way. I'll take the injection..but i'm a big dude make sure you've got enough to do the job there doc." Dennis said and pulled up his T-shirt sleeve. "oh it'll do the job." The doc said and picked up the syringe and walked over to Dennis and pushed it into his upper forearm. After that the doctor tossed the syringe in a plastic binned marked "sharps".  At first Dennis didn't feel much. Then he felt his fingers and toes going numb. He felt his nose twitch. He wasn't feeling pain. He felt like he was falling asleep sort of but one of those hidden sleeps. Like you're tired but not tired enough to admit it and before you know it you're waking up and its morning. Dennis felt his mind become less aware which was probably a blessing. He looked around the room one last time the walls were turning into jello and Dr. Marve was knealing down to check his pulse. "Almost there"...He felt nothing and it seemed over. Everything went black and he thought  "so this must be death...Theres a whole lotta nothing"..he said in that dark emptyness for what felt like days. Just then something felt jagged...he could feel himself again. "Damnit, i went to hell...i was afraid of this..." He could hear voices...and he could smell chemicals and feel something like against his skin. Just then it hit him. "i'm not dead..I told them that little syringe full of shit wouldn't do the trick" He was alive but he couldn't open his eyes..he wasn't breathing. Just then he woke up...He was strapped to a bed...He was stuck there. He could feel his head getting foggier. He was losing his memories, his thoughts, his feelngs, his friends, his family, he felt panicked and then all of a sudden he couldn't feel anything. He couldn't remember who he was. "Denny boy!, how is my little patient?" Dr. Marve said walking over in a white lab coat that was covered in God knows what. "whose Denny?" he answered. "Well, my friend, you were,..you wanted to die...i'm sorry, Denny wanted to die..so we killed him, Now you can be whoever you want" Dr. Marve said smiling. "...who are you?" He asked. "i'm a miracle worker, and about to be bloody stinkin rich!"  Dr. Marve exclaimed.   "Are you sure about this Marve, are you sure no ones gonna come looking for him like they did the others?" Suzzane the receptionist asked a hint of sadness and desperation hanging in her words. "Don't be silly, he's just some kid...we'll let him lose and he'll be found by the authorities wondering around Zoosky park in his socks and boxers and they'll take him home where he'll have a new life where everyone loves him cause they've missed him." Dr. Marve said now sounding as if he was desperate to believe his own bullshit. "but he won't be him, not...not after this" she said panicking. "Thats what he wanted, Denny wanted to die, he's dead now, and now ...whoever this sap becomes next will be much happier you'll see." The doctor said stripping off his lab coat and putting on his regular coat and hat and grabbing his briefcase. "you're just gonna leave him here?" Suzzane said looking at Denny's body and stroking his face.   "no we are, now come with me toots we've got plans to make!" He boasted and grabbed Suzzane by the wrist and pulled her out the door. She watched as the empty minded man strapped to the slab dozed off again. She hoped desperately that some of his memories would reform while there were out.

The next day Dennys body awoke and was now free of its restraints. Suzanne was standing over him with a smile. She rubbed his hand. "welcome back Denny, ...how was your nap?" she asked. "Denny,...is that me?" the person asked sounding less sedated and loopy. "Uhm...it was...., do you remember anything..?" She asked him. "I remember a needle...and darkness...and .." He looked up to the ceilng. "low ceilings" He blinked and smiled subtly.  "But our ceilings are 12 ft high...?" Suzanne said feeling puzzled.

She handed him an sausage egg mcmuffin, Denny had hated eggs but she didn't know that.  "Here i got something for you to eat just cause you don't remember food doesn't mean you shouldn't eat some."  He took a bite and made a face...and then stared straight ahead for a few seconds.   "what, what did you feel, ..or see?" She looked deep into his eyes...watching his pupils shift. He started blinking fast and spat the bite he had taken into a napkin. "why'd ya burn the eggs mah?" he said and looked irritated. "I'm not your mother..." she said and realized he could remember small things. She smiled but vowed not to tell the Doctor.

The man stood up and took baby steps around the room. He walked over to the mirror and looked in it. He tilted his eyebrows up and smiled.  "Do...ya...uhm... do you remember yourself?" The woman asked.  "Myself, ...thats me?" he said lookng at Suzanne then back at himself and mussing his hair up.   "Yes, you came in here...and wanted our help and now..you...dont' remember yourself..or anything" She said as her shoulder slumped as she walked up to Bennys body.    "Why did i need your help?" he asked.    "you were...uhm..sad and unhappy..and now you can't remember why so i guess that's a plus" she said nearly cryiing.  "It'll be okay" he said and hugged her.    "How did you know to hug me?" she asked confused.    "i don't know i must have seen it somewhere" The large man looked confused.    "...so it does remember.." she said stroking her chin.    "who is it?" Dennis asked.     "..uh...nothiing....yet" she said looking him up and down. She walked out of the room and came back in with a pencil and paper and wrote down the alphabet.  She held it up in front of him.

"Do you remember any of this?" She said. "Well, Duh, Those are letters, do you have anything besides eggs...i'd rather have pizza" He said. "Yeah i'll go get some pizza you go rest  uhm...i'll be back" she said and sped off out the door lockng it behiind her. She hopped in her car and all the way to the pizza place she was smiling and thinking "shit shit fuck" at the same tme.    She began talking to herself in the middle of traffic. "if he remembers somethings he might remember and be mad, but this is a breakthrough, if it worked...if it doesn't he could end up brain damaged in a week in Zoosk park lke Marve said...but no..shit...Suzzane you've gotta help him" she said and shook herself out of her conversation. She parked and ran in to grab two slice of pepperoni pizza, she paid with a $10 and said keep the change. As she charged back to the car she noticed a couple walking in and over heard their conversation.

"No Drew, he wouldn't just take off like that I know my Denny" The woman collapsed into the mans arms crying loudly. "There there Amy, We'll find him...He probably just passed out on the bus and ended up out of town at Rodgers again"

She watched them enter the pizza shop and sped off in her jeep back to the small clinic. She pulled around back and entered through the lab doors. She walked in to find Dr. Marve waiting with a tablet watching Denny's vitals.

"Oooh for me?" He said grinning. "uhm...no i got it for him..you can have the left over egg mcmuffin overthere though" She said smuggly and walked over and nudged Denny. "He won't wake up what did you do?" She said putting the pizza on a stand. "I'm fixing him, thats what he came here for so thats what i'm going to do!" He said. "You know he's sort of remembering things, and if we can trigger the good memories and keep him from  remembering the bad long enough, he won't have pain attached to them anymore" She said trying not to sound bossy. "That wasn't the plan Suzanne, we were meant to find them a living host, someone who was alive but mentally empty who they could toy with for a bit." The doctor sad almost screaming. "Why not try someone with dementia or something inoperable" She stammered. "Because we need someone young and strong not some brittle old cow with dead brain cells this could be a breakthrough in mind control, it could lead to incredible things Suzie!" He said sounding like a mad scientist. "Don't call me Suzie, I haven't been Suzie since August when you..." she stopped and started scratching intently at her arm.  "Cured you?" He said trying to prove a point.  "You didn't cure shit, i felt empty with those memories, but at least i knew why i felt empty now...i feel nothing...!" she screamed and collapsed in tears. Just then Dennis woke up.  "Why is she crying?" He asked looking slightly mad.  "why do you care you don't even know anything" The doctor said scoffing at his unfunny remark.   "I know enough" Dennis said. Just then he shoved the doctor out of the way and onto a syringe of his solution. He knealt down and looked at Suzanne she was scratching a gash into her forearm. "why are you doing this?" He said pull her hand away and covering her arm with his other hand.     "because i had memories that hurt me...and he took mine,...and sometimes i wish i could remember, and when i can't i just..." she fidgetted trying to reach back and start again.      "No.." He stood up holding her wrists and looking her in the eyes. "i'll help" he hugged her and they both heard the Doctor fall over with a thud.     "Ill help you too." She said and sniffled while she wiped the tears away. The both took a slice of pizza and ate it. Then they lifted the doctor onto the stretcher and strapped him in.

A little back story on suzanne. She was sexually abused as a girl. Her parents left her for dead and the Doctor found her when she was a teen. He tricked her into having the percedure. He reconsidered it for a bit and then thought it would work out better on a male brain. She can't remember the abuse but there is still sadness and pain. Baseless pain and shame...without her minds ability to explain and so she does the scratching thing as a coping mechanism and reaactionary impulse. PTSD without any understandable trauma so the brain must create some kind of trauma or prompt the body to do so.

...

The walked out locking the door behind them. Suzanne and Dennis got into her car. He hit his head on the arch of the car door. "Yee-ouch damnit happens every time, fuck!" He shook his head and then looked around. "Where am i?, Where's Doc. Marve? Why am i not dead?" He said looking straight into Suzannes eyes, then down at her arm. "Oh god,,..Did i do that to you...f i did i'm sorry i didn't know what that syringe had in iti knew...i shouldn't have let him do...thi-" she put her hand over his mouth. She looked him dead in the eyes. "Stop, you're panicking, Dr. Marve attempted to wipe most of your memories. I dont know how much you remember but i've been trying to revive whats left of your memories...he originally was going to wipe your brain like a harddrive and sell you to some people who were going to use you and mind control you to do bad things Dennis" She said and pulled her hand away. "please call me Denny" He said and looked confused at himself. "do you remember the names Amy and Drew?"She said slowly. "uhm...Amy is...uhm.." He started stuttering and winced hard and was visibly in pain and laid flat against the cramped carseat. "whats ...wha---" Suzanne looked at him feeling horrible. "...she's my mom" he said smiling. "Yes!" Suzanne said starting her car. "Do you know a Drew?" She asked unsure of the result. "i think he's my dad..." He said sounding shakey. "yes!, i saw them and overheard them talking about you at the pizza place i wasn't sure until just now that you were the Denny they were talking about but now i know. I want to take you home to them, they miss you, my parents didn't love me, and in a way i know Dr. Marve saved my life back then but ...i can't remember anything and i only stay with him because i'm scared. its all i know" She said welling up and swallowing hard. "But you're not a little kid you're a grown woman, ...surely you want to do something else" Dennis said as they pulled out of the parking lot and went off to the pizza shop hoping they would catch his parents.

After about 5 minutes they reached the redlight before the pizza shop and A green Subaru was pulling out and Dennis saw it and it triggered his brain. "Thats my parents car!" The light turned green and they pulled out and followed the car until it reached the police station. It pulled in and they followed. After they did Dennys dad go out and walked up to Suzannes car as his mother walked into the police station. "what the he--whaaa...is that...?" he saw Dennis sat there in the passenger seat. "Dad?..." Denny said confused. "what do you mean. Dad?... of course i am come here!" he walked over to give him a hug.   "I think you're my dad, so i'll hug you" Denny said and hugged him. "He thinks, what did you do?" Drew said looking angrily at Suzanne. "I need to tell you and you're not going to believe a word but the man responsible did  the same thing to me only i don't remember anything. Your son still remembers you. The truth will be hard to hear but i save him and brought him to you and he's slowly starting to remember things. He came to the clinic i no longer work for as of today. He came in yesterday he wanted to die. He was tricked into thinking we offered assisted suicides. The man responsible attempted to wipe your sons memory  it didn't work. If it had he'd be having his mnd controlled by someone else right now." She said breaking down into tears. "We gotta tell the cops and take them and go get this fucker!" His dad said. "I know exactly where he is too but we gotta hurry!".

Drew, Denny and Suzanne walked into the police station and poured their guts.  At first the police didn't believe Suzanne until she was fingerprinted and just as she was about to be questioned her finger prints came back. She hadn't been left for dead. Her parents hadn't left her for dead in fact they had been looking for her all this tme. Her parents were contacted as Suzanne told the cops where the man who she now knew had sexually assaulted and kidnapped her was located her parents were contacted.

Denny was reintroduced to his parents, and himself. He learned to appreciate life. His mind was never quite the same though. He now is the manager of the Sub Slammer and invents knew kinds of sandwiches every month.

Suzanne is starting to remember things. Just not the bad parts.

Dr. Marve had his medical license revoked.. 20 yrs ago and is now serving extensive time in a psych ward where they do experiments on him to figure out whats wrong with his brain.

I know the ending wasn't a dark as you may have thought it would be but i hope its still good none the less.