#oc aftermath

[wanderinginksplot]

Gar Cyare Chapter Seven

Continuation of my Alpha-17 x fem!reader story. (Probably at least novel-length by now, tbh.)

If you're confused and feel like you missed a chapter, don't panic! There was a chapter posted on my NSFW sideblog. I originally labeled it as Chapter 5.5, but I'll probably rename it to Chapter Six to keep the numbering consistent. If you're worried you missed something, you can read this post about minor (SFW) things that happened in the chapter.

Word Count: 6,300

Warnings: descriptions of intense training, high expectations, lectures, extremely vague references to intimacy.

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*The Previous button will bring the user back to Chapter Five, as I don't want any unwary readers seeing something they would rather not.

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Ramikadyc (A Commando State of Mind)

“But they just left!”

“Yep.”

“Isn’t that a little…”

“A little what, neverd’ika?” Alpha asked, eyes traveling quickly over the screen of his datapad. When you didn’t answer him immediately, he paused to glance up at you. “Soon? Sudden? That’s how the GAR works, if you forgot. Efficiency. At least, that’s what they say.”

For several reasons, you let his grumbled statement stand without argument. First, he wasn’t wrong. For all that the Grand Army of the Republic claimed to be a fast-moving, flexible marvel of an organization, it was bloated with far too much structure to be anything of the kind. Everyone had been excited about the formation of a centralized army, and half the commanding officers were in place despite having only the barest hint of military experience. You had learned that friendship with a Senator was the qualification that mattered the most.

Second, you didn’t debate with Alpha because you were still processing your own surprise. The last ARC group had just left a few days before and Alpha was already preparing for the newest group to arrive. 

“It just seems strange,” you concluded eventually. 

Alpha lowered his datapad, settling back in the chair he had claimed in your office. “When would you bring them in? How long would you schedule between groups? What would be your justification for more time?”

You shrugged, unprepared to answer so many questions. “I just feel that you could do more in-depth preparations if you had more than a weekend between departures and arrivals.”

“I’m the only ARC trainer in the GAR,” Alpha reminded you. “They come in small groups, usually five or six men per group. The training lasts six weeks. That means that ARCs are already being added very slowly. In fact, the GAR needs to lose fewer than one ARC per week if we have any chance of breaking even.”

“That’s-” You cut yourself short and shook your head tightly, knowing exactly how the rest of the conversation would go if you objected to that cold view. Instead, you focused on numbers. “Are the casualty numbers high enough that the GAR needs to worry about running out of ARC troopers in the near future?”

“Not at all,” Alpha replied smugly. “I’m a good trainer and I train ‘em right. Typical casualty rates tend toward two lost ARCs per year. We're aiming for none.”

“I’m not surprised,” you told him. Flattery didn’t work with Alpha - as he reminded you regularly - but you were trying to make it a habit to tell him when he did something noteworthy or impressive. Alpha had been treated poorly by far too many people. He trusted you, but that didn’t mean you stopped earning his trust. Besides, he heard more about his flaws than he ever had about his strengths. You couldn’t hope to even that out, but you could try. “If I didn’t already know it, you proved it with your last group. They were extraordinarily talented fighters and strategists. That’s something you made sure of. You keep your men alive.”

Alpha glanced away, fiddling with the datapad. “If you say so.”

You beamed. It wasn’t often you got to see Alpha flustered, but you treasured it every time. After a moment, though, your eyes traveled down to the datapad Alpha was holding. It was a twin to the ones scattered across your desk, but you were willing to bet that his held vastly different information. Yours was taken up by your report while Alpha’s… Well, you had no idea what was on that datapad.

There was a lot you didn’t know about ARC training actually, despite the fact that you were dating an ARC trainer. 

“You’re going to give yourself a headache if you keep doing that with your face.”

Alpha’s warning made you realize that you had been frowning absently at his datapad. You smoothed your expression, smiling as he chuckled.

“What are you thinking about that has you so serious?” he asked.

“I was just realizing that I don’t know much about ARC training,” you admitted.

Alpha shook his head. “That’s because it’s all classified. You probably know too much already.”

“I have top-secret security clearance,” you reminded him. “I needed it to write this report, which is also classified. Almost everything that has gone into it is classified information, meant to be read by people who also have high security clearance.”

“So, what are you saying?” Alpha asked, now frowning himself. “That you want to… observe the ARC training process?”

“No…” you trailed, reconsidering even as you said it. It wouldn't be a bad idea, honestly. The report wasn't due for some time, and including information about the ARCs would be smart. Since you were already contracted to write a comprehensive report for the Senate, you might as well make it truly comprehensive, right? 

The fact that it would add more work and - accordingly - more time to the process was worth considering, too.

"Actually, yes," you told him decisively. "I do want to observe the ARC training process."

You watched with some hidden amusement as Alpha processed that. His jaw tightened, brows lowered over eyes that were carefully studying your face.

"You won't like it," he said eventually. 

The laugh you gave was accidental, but Alpha didn't seem like he was in the mood for excuses. "I'm sorry, I know. I'm not asking because I think it'll be fun or because I want to watch you work. I think it's necessary for the report."

"You're going to write about me?" Alpha asked, sounding stunned.

"Of course," you admitted. "I was always planning on it. You're the only ARC trainer on Kamino, and one of the few troopers who is designated to train the men."

Alpha scowled at that, too. "You're going to tell a bunch of di'kutla senators that I'm not good for anything but instruction?"

“Never,” you told him fervently. “You’re qualified for everything. Training the men to survive is just what you chose to do. Besides, do you care what the Senate thinks?”

“I care what you think,” Alpha revealed, pretending to read something on the screen of his datapad. 

“Then you know exactly what I think about you, Alpha.” You stood, skirting the desk to press a kiss to the warm curve of Alpha’s cheek, round with the pout he was trying to hide. “But if you need me to remind- oof!”

Alpha had waited for you to keep speaking, biding his time until you weren’t focused as strongly on him, then he had snagged you by the waist and pulled you down into his lap. His arms wrapped around you, keeping you in place as he cradled you to his chest.

“That was your first mistake, neverd’ika,” Alpha said, sounding thoroughly satisfied with himself. “Never get within arm’s reach. Didn’t Trem teach you that one?”

“She didn’t tell me I should worry about an attack from my boyfriend!” you protested, laughing as Alpha gave you a smacking kiss every time you tried to push away from him. Eventually, you gave in and settled where you were, positioned in an undignified sprawl across his lap. “What’s your plan here? Distract me until I forget about observing ARC training?”

Alpha ducked his head, dropping a kiss on your lips and steadily deepening it until you felt dizzy with too much sensation, too many emotions, and not enough air. When he pulled away, it was with a wry look on his face - an odd counter to the passion you had felt from him a moment before. 

“I know better than to think I can distract you from anything,” he told you. “My mirdala civvie. You’re smart. Stubborn, too. Stubborn enough to be stupid about it.”

“Thank you.” If your voice was dry, who could really blame you? 

“Anytime,” Alpha replied, unbothered. “And neverd’ika? Maybe you’re not observing ARC training because you want to watch me work, but we both know you will anyway. You won’t be able to help it.”

You stared up at him, unsure of whether he had intended to come off as overly confident as he had. Hewas in a strangely cheerful mood, so maybe…

Alpha flexed his arms, his pecs firming at the edge of your vision. As far as you were concerned, that only confirmed that he was indeed preening and you couldn’t hold back a giggle at the realization.

“I can have more than one reason to watch ARC training,” you demurred. Alpha grinned at you, but your smile softened into one of fondness. “Confidence looks good on you, Alpha.”

“Thank you, little one.” Alpha gave you a gentle squeeze, then let his grip loosen. “You should go back to your own chair or I won’t get anything else done today, and they get here tomorrow.”

Now you were the one pouting, but you did as he suggested - it turned out that you were just as susceptible to distraction. “Fine.”

You went back to writing your report, laying an outline for the section about ARC training. It was sparse, based only on what little you already knew, but you really had gotten distracted by your boyfriend. Had he agreed to letting you observe, or would you need to push a little harder? That may be unpleasant, but you wanted to include ARC training information in the report.

Before you could get too lost in your own thoughts, Alpha cleared his throat. With his gaze still locked on his datapad, he said, “Be in the ARC training area by seven-thirty tomorrow morning.”

—

You arrived at the training area slightly before seven. 

Alpha was already there, but glanced at you questioningly when you stepped inside, eyebrows jumping up his forehead in shock. "What are you doing here already? I said seven-thirty."

"I know, but…" You shrugged. "Over the last few months, I've learned that the phrase, 'if you're not early, you're late' definitely applies to the GAR. I didn't want to risk missing something."

After another moment of silent contemplation, Alpha gave an impressed nod. "Smart."

"And stubborn," you finished for him. You were rewarded with a smile.

"Exactly. And since you're stubborn enough to stay here, I need you to be smart enough to listen to me. I need you to observe, not participate. Training these men… it isn't just physical work. That's a big part of it, but there's mental work that needs to be done."

You nodded slowly. "Physical and psychological training. Is that so they can handle the intensity of the missions they're going to do?"

"Partially," Alpha said, glancing at the chrono on his wrist comlink. "It's also an old military trick. People can adapt faster in a hostile environment, learn to change the way they do things so that it's reflexive."

"Twisted, but I suppose I see the logic," you admitted. "So am I going to ruin the hostile psychology by being here?"

Alpha shrugged. "I'm not sure. I've never had a civvie sit in on ARC training."

"Well, do you need me to hide?" you asked. You hadn't realized that Alpha was worried about your presence there, and now you were, too. The idea of destroying the effectiveness of an entire ARC group’s training was very concerning.

Alpha was staring at you as if you had started speaking in your best impression of a B-1. “They’re troopers designated for ARC training; they’ll see you. Believe it or not, I think having a civvie hiding in the training room would probably be more distracting than one being in here at all.”

You huffed at his lack of faith in your reconnaissance skills. “Fine, then what do you need me to do?”

“Just sit there,” Alpha said. “Make your notes, but try not to speak. If you have questions, write them down. I can’t stop to answer questions and I can’t explain my reasoning without giving away too much to the men.”

You nodded solemnly, but Alpha didn’t look convinced. “Don’t- try not to look too pleasant. Don’t smile if you can help it and definitely don’t smile at them. I need you to play the role of an impartial observer, or as close to it as you can get.”

“I am an impartial observer,” you reminded him. “That’s basically the job description.”

“You’ve never been impartial about anything in your life, neverd’ika,” Alpha told you with a snort. Before you could get too offended, he ducked to press a kiss to your forehead. “It’s one of the reasons I couldn’t help myself around you.”

You shook your head, trying to pretend you were still irritated by his too-accurate observation, but you were rapidly losing the fight. Instead, you held up your datapad. “Can you tell me a little about the men who are coming in? If I can’t ask questions in front of them, knowing who they are before they get here will help me take more accurate notes.”

Alpha nodded. “This is a standard group. Five men, just like the last one. Ready?”

As soon as your fingers were poised over the screen of your datapad, you looked back at Alpha. ”Ready when you are.”

“There’s Salvo, a commander from the 22nd Air Combat Wing. Obviously, he’s a pilot, but the 22nd has seen its fair share of combat. Next is Aftermath from the 327th Star Corps, an infantry unit. We’ve got one named Maw. He’s from a squad in the 104th Battalion - the Wolfpack, they call themselves - which tends to get more search-and-rescue and aid missions than the other battalions, but I expect he’s seen some combat.”

Alpha paused while you wrote all of that down, but when you caught up, you arched a brow at him. “Why does the Wolfpack get fewer combat missions? I thought all units of the GAR were supposed to be infantry-focused.”

“They are, but…” Alpha sighed. “The 104th was decimated early in the war when the Seppies targeted their general’s fleet.”

“Oh, no,” you said, feeling stupid for the shallowness of the sentiment compared to such loss. “What happened to the escape pods?”

It wasn’t something anyone had taught you specifically, but you had briefly investigated the battleships used by the Republic. Each Venator-Class Star Destroyer was equipped with a fair number of systems that would start up in the event that a ship had been disabled or destroyed. There were hundreds of escape pods and, if more than twenty were deployed in a span of ten minutes, the ship would send an automatic distress signal to a predetermined location, regardless of whether the communications systems had been activated. For an entire fleet and the battalion it carried to have been destroyed, something catastrophic had to have happened.

“The escape pods were used. From all reports, anywhere from sixty to seventy percent of the personnel were evacuated from the ships,” Alpha told you, the muscles in his jaw flexing with emotion. “The Seppies hunted down the pods. Only one survived: one holding General Koon and three of the men. It’s been a while since that happened and the 104th has brought in enough men to be a fully-functioning battalion again, but the GAR still tries to give them missions that are more strategic or aid-oriented than the other units.”

“That’s horrible,” you murmured.

“That’s war,” Alpha countered, but there was darkness behind his easy acceptance, a deeply burrowed sense of pain that made you bite back any harsh reply you may have given.

Instead, you cleared your throat softly and looked back at your datapad. “And the last two?”

“The last two are from the same unit: the Torrent Company of the 501st Legion. It’s an infantry division. The men call themselves Fives and Echo.”

“Fives..?” you repeated, the name sounding slightly familiar.

“You met him once,” Alpha reminded you. “He and one of his brothers were trying to flirt with you when I interrupted.”

“Yes, I remember!” you said with a fond smile. “Wait, that was only a few months ago. How are they already going through ARC training?”

Alpha grimaced and it was enough to make you brace yourself. “Their first duty station was attacked during their second week there. They stopped an invasion of Kamino - before the big one. Two of their squad were killed at the start of the occupation of Rishi Outpost, but Fives, Echo, and their brother Hevy helped Marshal Commander Cody and Captain Rex get the Republic’s attention before the attack could land. Hevy died in the attempt.”

Your stomach twisted at the thought of so much death, but you pressed on. “And that made the GAR decide to give them ARC status?”

“No, that made Captain Rex decide to bring them into the 501st,” Alpha told you. “They were actually close enough to help with the invasion on Kamino with the 501st. They were part of the forces that repelled the Seppies. They did a good enough job that Captain Rex requested they receive ARC training.”

With a nod, you finished making your notes and summarized what was displayed on your datapad’s screen. “So we have Salvo from the 22nd Air Combat Wing, Aftermath from the 327th Star Corps, Maw from the 104th Battalion, and Fives and Echo from the 501st Legion. What are your preliminary thoughts?”

“Why?” Alpha asked, sounding suspicious. 

With effort, you managed to avoid rolling your eyes at him. “Because I want to know how you approach training. I want to see what you’re planning with minimal information about them.”

“Minimal information?” Alpha asked, sounding slightly offended. “Clearly, you don’t know how in-depth the GAR’s files are. I’ve read all about these men.”

“That’s not a real answer,” you chided.

Alpha smirked, but didn’t argue. Instead, he pointed at the seat you normally took when you came to the ARC training area. “It isn’t, but we’re out of time. They’ll be here soon.”

You grimaced at him, but sat down. You scarcely had time to arrange yourself and prepare your notes before the door opened to admit a group of men dressed in the typical clothing the troopers used to exercise and train.

That was the most disconcerting thing about working closely with the troopers: they were all so young. The cadets were the worst ones for making your heart hurt - something about a lost childhood made you morose and sentimental - but the ARCs weren’t so different. Troopers were tapped for ARC training at different ages, of course. Salvo seemed older than the others, a hint of silver in his dark hair when he turned his head the right way. In contrast, Fives and Echo were so young that it seemed impossible they had already been through so much.

Silence reigned as they arranged themselves in a line and stood at attention. Alpha stood at parade rest in front of them, hands clasped neatly behind his back. He watched them all, meeting each man’s eyes before giving a slight shake of his head.

“We have a lot of work to do here. I hope you troopers are up for it.”

You could see the already straight spines straighten even further as if the men could gain Alpha’s confidence through posture alone. 

Alpha continued, the troopers hanging on every word. “I’m Captain Alpha-17, your instructor. You’re here with me for the next six weeks. By the time you leave, you’ll have either proved yourselves worthy of ARC status, or you’ll go back to your units without it.”

He paused as if to let them speak or ask questions, but the quiet in the room only thickened until it felt hard to breathe… and you weren’t even one of the ones he was directly addressing.

When they had all marinated in the ringing silence, Alpha said, “Today we’re setting a baseline for your abilities so we can track improvement. We’ll be doing a series of to-failure exercises, followed by a mission. Find a place and get ready. I trust you can keep your own counts. I’ll be watching for form. If you get sloppy, I deduct from your numbers. Understood?”

Five cries of, “Yes, sir!” echoed around the ARC training area as the troopers scrambled to do as Alpha had ordered them.

And so you watched as Alpha led the group in their exercises. They were generally grouped into major muscle groups, though he liked to hop around a bit. Push-ups, crunches, squats, pull-ups, planks, lunges… the moves blurred together, though you were surprised how slowly they passed. Eventually, you realized that you hadn’t know what to-failure exercises were. They literally were meant to be done until the troopers’ muscles were unable to do each one any longer. With their strength, stamina, and excellent physical condition, they did impossible numbers of each move.

When the troopers were left lying on the floor, panting for breath as their muscles trembled, Alpha gave a sharp whistle between his teeth. “That’s enough of a break, men. We still need to get some work done today. Follow me.”

Everyone stood, a surprising lack of grumbling among them, and followed Alpha from the room and down the hall to the arena where the troopers were tested for basic abilities before they were allowed to ship out for their first duty assignments. You had never seen the ARCs use that area before, but there was a lot you hadn’t been around for.

You followed them into the training area, careful to stand in the marked observation area. The room was designed to be completely changeable, and you had no desire to be standing on a section of floor that was suddenly designated to be high in the air at a strange angle. 

“Your mission-” Alpha started, but was soon interrupted.

“Captain, why is a civilian allowed to observe our training?” 

If memory served, the trooper who had asked that was Aftermath. He was the trooper with an appearance closest to what you would consider ‘standard’. He was older than the pair from the 501st and younger than Salvo. He didn’t have a tattoo like Fives or Maw, and no facial hair. The only thing that distinguished him from the others was that his hair was cut a bit longer than you typically saw. Amusingly, the front section of his hair was a nest of curls, featuring one particularly thick spiral that stubbornly hung over his forehead, no matter how many times he had tried to brush it back into the rest of his hair.

Alpha, unsurprisingly, looked less than pleased with Aftermath. “First, don’t interrupt me. Second, 4960, if you manage to do something more than sit on a bench and breathe, I’ll let you ask dik’utla questions. And if you manage to impress me -unlikely - I might even answer.”

Aftermath straightened and Alpha shook his head. “Fall in.”

Perhaps you shouldn’t be surprised that all of the men had immediately obeyed the simple instruction, but Alpha hadn’t even raised his voice. You couldn’t help but think that was something worth making note of. When the men had arranged themselves in a line once more, Alpha walked in front of them, pacing slightly as he spoke:

“Listen up, because I’m only gonna say this once. ARC training is one of the most challenging things a trooper can do, and ARC status is one of the most impressive distinctions a trooper can have. You’re here because you were identified as the most competent man or men of your particular unit.” He glanced around, letting the self-congratulations get started before he said, “And I’m here because I was identified as the most competent ARC trooper and the best person to train you men. But we’re not here to discuss my osik luck. Let’s get started.”

“Your mission is to get the flag,” Alpha said simply, gesturing to the room behind him as it arranged itself into a preprogrammed configuration. It wasn’t complex, but it definitely looked challenging. The platform holding the flag lifted into the air, taller and taller until it was towering over your head. 

“Your secondary objective is to slice into the data terminal. In this scenario, the flag should be treated as a hostage and the data to be retrieved is sensitive information,” Alpha continued as you frowned. What terminal was he-? Ah. There was indeed a data terminal far to the other side of the room and up a slightly smaller platform. “Blasters are on the table. I’ll be listening to your HUD feeds to evaluate your performance. Time starts… now.”

And then Alpha stepped back next to you as the troopers scrambled into action. He entered a code into the control panel on the wall and the observation area lifted into the air slightly, just enough to see everything without being ridiculously far up. 

“I’ll transmit the audio so you can take accurate notes,” Alpha told you, removing his helmet as he did so. You soon heard the crackling sound of inter-HUD communication. It appeared the men were arguing.

“We need to get to the hostage,” a voice said. “That’s our first priority.”

“Echo,” Alpha helpfully supplied.

“First, we need to create a chain of command,” another voice interrupted. As Alpha identified the speaker as Salvo, he continued, “We need to make sure the right person is issuing orders.”

“Kriff issuing orders,” a third person bit out, and you recognized Aftermath by his impatient tone. “We already have our orders.”

“Let’s split up.” This one was Fives, according to Alpha. “Three of us go get the hostage and the other two try to slice the terminal.”

“Too much droid interference,” Salvo told him. “We’ll need at least two people providing cover fire at all times if we don’t want to be taken out.”

“We should go for the terminal first,” a previously unheard voice opined. Through the process of elimination, you identified it as belonging to Maw even before Alpha confirmed that for you. “If I can slice into it, I can lower the platform holding the flag.”

“Why would we need it lowered?”  Fives sounded disdainful.

“Do you see any equipment around here?” Maw asked sharply. “None of us have ascension cables. We’ll have to scale the wall. That’ll be easier with it lowered.”

“That’s cheating!” Echo chided.

“No such thing,” Aftermath told him. “As long as we complete the mission objectives, we’ve done what we needed to.”

“Yeah, plus this is all a test,” Maw reminded the group. “Why would the captain have placed an active data terminal in here if he didn’t expect us to use it?”

“Do the ARCs usually argue this much?” you asked, curious. 

Alpha shook his head, but a small smile played around the corners of his mouth. “At first? Yeah. There’s a lot they haven’t figured out yet. It makes the first few days of training a shock for them. But the sooner they get over it, the sooner I can start teaching them what they really need to know.”

You made a note on that, as well as the arguments made by the different troopers. Such small details probably wouldn’t make it into your report, but they could be helpful while you were writing, depending on what happened with their first practice mission. 

By the time you were paying attention to the audio feed again, the argument had dramatically increased in fervor. 

“Our orders were to retrieve the flag first, then the information if possible!”

“But I can slice the terminal and increase our chance of success in retrieving the flag!”

“I think we can get both done. Might as well do the slicing first.”

“It would be faster if we split into groups. Maybe part of our evaluation is how long we take. The less time, the better.”

“Like I said, we can’t split up. We need to plan for interference. No fewer than two men providing cover fire per team. The math doesn’t work out.”

By the time the men started for the lower platform and its data terminal, Alpha had pulled out his own datapad and began to make notes. 

The troopers scaled the platform with ease and Maw sliced into the terminal less than three minutes later as the others returned simulated bolts fired from Kamino’s practice droids. The platform lowered until it was nearly level with the ground, the sides sloping instead of steep. The troopers made their way over to it, scaled it easily and took the flag. 

“Endex,” Alpha announced, his loud voice carrying through the large room. The simulated blaster fire stopped from both the droids and the troopers, the lights returned to uniform brightness, and the platforms lowered into the floor until it was even once more. 

Salvo and Maw approached where the observation platform had eased back to ground height. Salvo presented the flag while Maw offered a small data chip. Alpha took them both, glancing curiously at the data chip. 

“Where did you get a chip?” he asked. It was a good point - data terminals didn’t come pre-supplied with blank chips ready for information storage.

Maw smiled. “I erased one of the non-essential chips so I could rewrite it to hold the information we needed to retrieve, sir.”

Alpha nodded thoughtfully. “Fall in, men.”

After the troopers had done so, Alpha said, “Let’s start with what you did right. You completed both objectives. You used some creative problem-solving. You worked as a team. Everything else wasosik.”

You were extremely grateful you were standing out of the men’s line of sight. You were sure the shock on their faces was mirrored on your own. 

“Fives,” Alpha said. “You were overconfident about getting both parts of the mission done, but you didn’t argue for your idea of splitting up. If you toss out ideas and don’t back them up, all you’re doing is creating more confusion. Come up with the plan you think will work best and fight for it to happen.” 

Alpha turned to the next man. “Aftermath. You were the only one to argue against creating a chain of command. You were right: it didn’t matter who was giving orders out there. You already had the only orders you needed. But you were too worried about beating the best time to focus on what needed to be done. For the record, time does factor into your score. And you wasted yours.”

“Echo. You were right about the orders you had been given,” Alpha told him. “The data terminal was a secondary concern and shouldn’t have had equal weight in your planning. But there is no ‘cheating’ on a mission. Anything you can do to give yourself an advantage is fair game. The enemy isn’t gonna play fair. Make sure you don’t, either.”

“Maw.” Alpha continued, turning to the trooper in question. “You did something I’ve never seen another man do: you sliced into a data terminal to change the layout, then rewrote a data chip… all in under three minutes. That’s impressive. However, none of that matters in the real world. None of your missions will happen in an ARC training area. Slicing in to lower the platform wouldn’t work on a real mission, and it shouldn’t have been such a big part of your plan. Definitely not important enough to put aside rescuing the hostage.”

“And now for Salvo,” Alpha announced, looking at the man in question. “You wanted to be in charge out there. You wanted to be the one issuing orders. Fine. That means you take the heat for what went wrong. And plenty went wrong.”

Salvo ducked his head, but Alpha was pitiless. “You wasted almost two minutes arguing about a chain of command. As an ARC trooper, you’re outside of the chain of command. Missions are done as effectively as possible. No one needs to be in charge. Get that idea out of your head. You had a good point about cover fire, but you didn’t think about the possibility that three or even four of you could have gone for one area or the other to draw fire and let the last man covertly go for the hostage or the data terminal. And since you were so determined to keep the men together - men who are training to be individual forces of nature when it comes to completing objectives - the correct order would have been hostage retrieval, then data retrieval. From now on, leave the orders and training tome.”

“Yes, sir,” Salvo agreed hastily, embarrassment written across his face. “Sorry, sir.”

“Let this mission be a lesson to all of you,” Alpha told them, addressing the group as a whole once more. “Intel is vital. Yeah, GAR intelligence is spotty at best, but it’s better than nothing. I studied your files, all of the information about your past missions that was passed on by your officers. This mission was planned to test your strengths and show your weaknesses. I think we covered weaknesses pretty well, but if you have any questions about how I knew what I did, you need to pay more attention to your post-mission briefings back with your units. This information was pulled directly from them. Now, does anyone have any questions about the mission?”

“Yes, sir,” Echo said. When Alpha nodded at him, he continued, “We didn’t have any ascension cables. How would we have gotten onto the platform without lowering it?”

Alpha watched him steadily. “Trooper, do you know we keep holos of every training group’s final exercise? With you and Fives both coming from the same squad, I rewatched your final training holo. This wouldn’t be the first time you scaled a wall with no ascension cables. Domino Squad did something new that day, something no one else had thought to do before. That flexibility of thought is your best tool as an ARC.”

“But there were guns on the Citadel tower,” Fives reminded him. “There were none on this platform. Sir.”

After a dry look at the hastily added ‘sir’ at the end of his statement, Alpha returned to the control panel and began to enter data. A thin platform rose a short distance in front of the troopers, easily twice their height.

“Echo, you’re gonna help me with a little demonstration,” Alpha announced, heading for the new platform. When he was standing in front of it, Alpha tapped his shoulders. “Stand on my shoulders and reach for the edge of the platform. Don’t pull yourself onto it, just hold the edge.”

It wasn’t an elegant process, but Echo managed to do as Alpha had ordered, standing on the captain’s shoulders as he got a firm grasp on the platform’s edge. 

“Alright, hang on,” Alpha told him. “I’m going to use you to climb.”

And you watched, stunned, as Alpha began to climb up Echo’s body, using his feet, waist, and shoulders as hand- and foot-holds until he had gotten to the top of the platform. He reached a hand down to grasp Echo’s forearm, hauling him up with ease until they were both standing on the top and looking down at the other troopers.

“Your gear can save your life. You should always be as equipped as possible, on a mission or not,” Alpha reminded. “But even when you don’t have equipment, you’ve been engineered with advantages that most species in the galaxy don’t have. You can lift more, run faster, survive longer. Those are all tools that you can and should use.”

Alpha stepped forward and off of the platform. You were surging forward before you could stop yourself, your heart battling for a place in your throat with the scream that was taking up most of the room. Alpha rolled as he hit the ground, managing to stand at the end of the motion.

You had managed to keep yourself from screaming, but your desperate motion must have caught some attention. Maw was watching you curiously and Echo’s eyes flicked in your direction from his vantage point on top of the platform.

“Any other questions?” Alpha asked, tone casual.

There were none and he gave a satisfied nod. “Good. Dismissed.”

Echo copied Alpha’s dismounting procedure and caught up with Fives as the troopers all left the training area. You turned to Alpha in the recently abandoned room. “Are there really holos of past training sessions?”

Alpha’s expression turned comedically guarded. “If I say yes, are you planning to spend the next few weeks watching all of the final missions?”

“No,” you denied, letting a slow grin turn the corners of your lips upward. “I was just going to suggest that we move somewhere with fewer cameras.”

“What-?” Alpha started, though he cut himself off fairly quickly and began to smile as well. “I didn’t know that in-depth conversations about training were a weakness of yours.”

“You’re a weakness of mine,” you admitted openly. “And it’s interesting to see you in your element. This was a new experience for me.”

“Hey,” Alpha said with a scowl. “You’ve seen me in an actual battle.”

“That’s true,” you agreed, pretending to think it over for a moment. “Though weren’t you teaching in the battle, too?”

“No, I-” Alpha cut his denial short, his scowl growing even more fierce. “I don’t teach, I train.”

By that point, you couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore and Alpha’s displeasure turned to false offense. “Are you teasing me, neverd’ika? And people say I’m rude. I let you come here and watch my training process…”

“Come on, Alpha,” you urged, still chuckling. “Let’s go somewhere with fewer holocameras.”

Alpha’s shock when you waggled your eyebrows was palpable, which only made it all the more entertaining for you. You steered him where you wanted to go with only the slight touch to his hand you could manage while looking casual enough to fool any observers. Of course, the stupid matching grins sprouting across both of your faces would probably give something away, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care just then.

---

Author's Note - Thanks for reading! If you find any mistakes, please let me know! I'm having trouble with the site today. I did my best to fix what went wrong, but I may have missed something.

Salvo is a canon character, though he may be part of the Legends now. Fives and Echo are obviously canon. Maw and Aftermath are OCs. Aftermath was mentioned in a previous one-shot of mine, but never directly seen. If you have any questions, please let me know!

You can find other works on my masterlist or sign up for my taglist here!

Taglist: @rexs-wife @sugarpuffsstuff @stargazingthenightaway @just-some-girl-92 @kimageddon @ladysongmaster @carodealmeida @adriiibell @nomercyforthewarrior @boomtowngirl @bitchylittleredhead @blck-omen @hrk-fic-recs @lackofhonor @captxin-rex @literallydontlook @salaminus @mothmanbelievesinyou @archivedreading @lucyhelena @808tsuika @ladykatakuri @echos-gal @shawtyitsyou @butterbug14 @skyguy-snips @fan-fic-favs @frietiemeloen @tsedeshgishnii @buddee @justanothersadperson93 @leotatombs @mavendeb @rain-on-kamino @itsagrimm @dancingwiththeplanets @hummellchen @theclonesdeservebetter @wolffeswife @ladyemxo @maulslittlemeowmeow @murder-of-crows-1 @dsburnerblog @ollovaemisc @rosmariner @staycalmandhugaclone @marennial @fordo-kixed-rex @murderofcrows1 @quietplaceinthestars

[happyfoxx-art]

Aftermath Impact 17 | Say hi to my Rise oc! She's here to work some magic on poor Leo's knee :O PREV | NEXT | FIRST

[anintroverteddarling]

TW; SLIGHTLY SUGGESTIVE(???), Im not sure but it feels like I've done smth illegal ASKDJNADSFKJADNFS

I tried to draw smth cute again but ended up looking... uh...

but then I added in

Overall, intrusive thoughts won that night help--

[mercymaker]

𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍 & 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐄 ・ When the sun has set, no candle can replace it.

[infinite-hearts-333]

After so many sleepless nights and so much anxiety, Thorn turns to having a midnight drink. A certain dragon finds them.

“A little late to be out drinking, don’t you think?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah I guess. Couldn’t sleep.”

“I can tell. May I?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m Ouřa Thorn, by the way.”

“North Heat. Leader of the Rangers. And you?”

“I’m the janitor. And the electrician right now.”

“Really? You look like you’d make a good space rider.”

“Ha-! Yeah- well, with my history, and my powers- I’m more of a ticking time bomb than a ‘good space rider’ but, thanks I guess.”

“History..? Problems with powers hmm? We have a few programs for that if you’d like me to help you get into one-?”

“No, no.. to risky. *sighs* What do you do when you know a part of you is a big danger?”

“I’m not scared of you,”

“Well you SHOULD be. You wouldn’t know, no one but a few do, and most of them are cultist that scream every time they see me…”

“Try me.”

“What?”

“Try me- I can take your power, I’m sure of it.”

“No, no you couldn’t, don’t be stupid.”

“I’m sure I can- try me Oura Thorn, I’m not scared of you.”

“YOU, HAVE NO IDEA WHAT DAMAGE IT CAN CAUSE- YOU-”

*aggressive huffing, tears welling up*

“Take a breath Thorn, it’s okay. You look like shit, man.”

“Haha… It comes with the territory of lack of sleep..”

“Well let’s start there, then. Come on, wheres your house.”

*mumbling* “The storage room….”

“….. Seriously??? Nope, alright, we’re going to my crews place then. Merrit made a some lavender tea last week, so you’re gonna crash on our couch for tonight.”

“Are you sure..? I don’t want to interfere..”

“You don’t have a choice here, if I’m honest.”

The next morning:

FINALLY ITS DONE

*disintegrates*

Wuff that took SO long, but I’m so proud of it damn. Good job me *pats back*

I just hope that it’s up to the beans expectations! Those who saw it seemed very excited and I’m berry grateful <3333333

North heat belongs to the awesome: @north-heats-stronghold

Zane in the last panel belongs to: @moonspiritleaf

And the au (space riders!) belongs to: @onyxonline

[galoogamelady]

[cinnamon-flame]

Statues

Kinda ironic that you would bring someone to life just to take it away

aka When your soul gets so damaged that you turn your only friend into an ice sculpture (when she started her life as a statue to begin with)

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Red Letter Day

Barney gets a call that Gordon Freeman had been found after ten years of being missing in action.

Word count: 4382

Notes: Another fic for my au "Aftermath" because I think its neat. I'm not sure what else to put here, enjoy the fic

Barney was beginning to remember how much he hated Winter as he stared through the warehouse window in front of him. Despite it being the beginning of March, spring was yet to come, meaning the snow was still falling with the temperature following suit. Barney had always hated the season, and as much as he tried, he could never come up with a proper reason. Maybe it was the fact it was cold, wet, and dreary, making any trip outside miserable, or perhaps it was the fact he was mainly cooped up inside all day, leaving him to get cabin fever. Or maybe it was a mixture of those two at the same time, along with the loneliness that came from them. No matter the reason, Barney kept quiet about it, realizing he had no ability to change the weather. All he could do was drink his hot coffee and put on a few more layers than usual. 

Barney took a sip from his mug as he looked away from the window, instead focusing his attention back into the room he was in. It was a storage room, full of random junk and scientific doodads Barney had no knowledge of. Boxes and crates were stacked up in piles taller than he was, stacked in such a way that it made Barney nervous even being near them in the case of them toppling over. Due to the lack of a radiator in that room, it was even chillier than the rest of the refurbished warehouse, making Barney glad he was wearing the warmest sweatpants he could find in his closet, along with a worn out grey hoodie, with the logo on the front being so faded that it was hard to make out as Black Mesa’s logo.

As he looked around, he was startled by the sound of a box slamming against the concrete floor, along with a short exclamation. “Oh, blast it!” “You alright, Doc?” Barney asked the other man in the room, watching as he bent over to pick up the fallen crate.

“I’m fine, just…hoping whatever was in here isn’t fragile…” 

Dr. Isaac Kleiner, or “Doc” as Barney referred to him as, was wearing a white lab coat over a robin-egg-blue dress-shirt and black tie, trading warmth for safety at his place of work. His glasses were slipping off his face as he moved boxes and rummaged through everything in the storage room, making it even more of a mess than it was before. 

“Where on earth could she have gone?” Kleiner asked, not necessarily expecting an answer. “There aren’t any vents she could have crawled in, are there?”

“I hope not,” Barney stated. “Last thing I want is that thing to fall on someone.” As Kleiner looked under a table, Barney spoke up again. “You think it ran off or something?”

“Oh no, I don’t believe so,” Kleiner stood up straight, “I’m sure she wouldn’t. After all, she needs to get fed eventually, so I imagine she’ll come out for that.” “If the thing didn’t eat someone's cat or something.”

“Hush!” Kleiner held a finger up to his mouth, causing both he and Barney to become silent as he listened closely. Barney attempted to hear what Kleiner was listening for, but to no avail, hearing nothing but silence. “Fie! I could’ve sworn I heard her moving around…”

Barney let out an exhausted sigh, “Doc, please, there’s plenty of those pests out there–”

“But there’s only ONE Lamar!”

“...Right.”

“Now, are you going to help me look?” Kleiner adjusted his crooked glasses, “Or are you going to simply stand there, doing nothing?”

“Uh…” Barney glanced away, thinking for a moment. “...No thanks.”

“Oh, you act like she’s some kind of wild animal.”

“It kinda is.”

“She’s been de-beaked and trained, and you know this!” Kleiner stated as he walked towards a filing cabinet near the corner of the room.

“‘Trained;’ I don’t think that thing is really…trained. My dog is trained, and I know you can train cats, but I don’t think you can train a literal parasite–”

“Oh! I think I’ve got something!” Kleiner said excitedly, “Help me move this cabinet, would you please?”

Barney reluctantly approached the metal cabinet as Kleiner positioned himself to the side of it, ready to move it as soon as Barney was. As soon as Barney placed his free hand against the side of it, he pushed, with Kleiner on the other side pulling it towards him.

Barney let out a loud yelp when something leaped at him from behind the cabinet, causing him to fall on his back and drop his mug on the floor. It was Lamar, the “Pet” headcrab that Kleiner had lost, and it was even uglier up close. As it laid on Barney’s chest, its six small, beady eyes stared back at him as he remained absolutely still, afraid of it trying to attack him. Its teeth on its stomach prodded at his stomach, along with its chipped, large front claws, which had colorful duct-tape covering the tips of them to prevent them from being too sharp. After a few moments of tense silence, Kleiner came to the rescue, picking up Lamar from where it rested on Barney’s torso, allowing him to take a breath.

“LAMAR!” Kleiner exclaimed, looking at his pet with relief in his eyes, “Oh, delightful! I’m so happy to see you weren’t left out in the cold somewhere…”

“Mm-hm…” Barney lifted himself off the ground, looking at his feet to see his knocked over coffee cup, with its contents spilled over. “Ugh…” 

Barney picked up his cup from the floor as Kleiner let Lamar go, watching as it waddled across the floor before jumping up onto one of the tables. Barney stared at it with contempt, the opposite reaction to Lamar’s rediscovery compared to Kleiner’s joy. 

“Do you even have a license for that thing?” Barney questioned as Lamar sat down on top of some loose documents. “If you don’t and animal control finds it, they’ll kill it–”

“I’m…in the process of getting one,” Kleiner stated, voice stumbling slightly. “And I hope no one finds her, cause if they do…I’m afraid of what you said coming true. I’m sure it will be fine regardless, at least she knows to stay inside.”

“...Sure.”

“Is everyone safe?”

Barney and Kleiner turned towards the doorway that led to the rest of the warehouse, seeing a lone, albino Vortigaunt staring back at them with her four maroon eyes. She was wearing a similar lab coat to Kleiner’s, with a borrowed pair of black dress pants, along with a fitted light brown sweater, with a hole in the middle of her chest for her third pseudo arm. She stared at Kleiner and Barney for a little while before Barney answered her question. 

“Yeah, we’re fine…” Barney sighed, glancing towards Lamar, “We just found Kleiner’s…pet.”

“Everything’s under control, Violet, you can get back to work!” Kleiner added.

“I see.” Violet’s gravelly voice seemed quieter than usual, making Barney’s brows furrow a bit.

“You alright?” He asked.

Violet seemed puzzled. “Hm?”

“Are you doing alright? I have noticed you’ve been a bit…closed off for the past few hours.” Kleiner inquired.

“We have been…distracted…” Violet responded. “I imagine it will be cleared up soon.”

“We?” Barney asked.

Violet didn’t answer. “I must get back to helping the others…the teleporter is nearly ready for its first test...”

“Oh! Wonderful. I’ll be there in a little bit.” Kleiner stated as Violet left the room. Barney remained puzzled, looking back at Kleiner with a feeling of unease in his chest.

“She said ‘we’.” Barney stated.

“I’m aware,” Kleiner responded. “You see, the Vortigaunts are able to tap into something they refer to as the ‘Vortessence’, and are thus all conne–”

“I know, Doc, I just…” Barney paused for a second. “If she’s talking about all the Vortigaunts, then wouldn’t that be a bit worrying?”

“...Maybe, but I'm not sure.” Kleiner stated. “Though, one of the members of the survey team we sent earlier today was a Vortigaunt, and that team hasn’t returned yet so…maybe there is a connection there.”

“Maybe.”

“Either way, I believe i’ll go and speak with her, just to make sure everything’s alri–”

Barney’s phone ringing from his pocket interrupted their thoughts, and when Barney pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open, he saw the number was from one of his coworkers at the hospital. “Sorry, I gotta take this.”

“You’re fine, you go ahead and I’ll go check in with the others.”

Barney nodded, watching Kleiner leave the room before he answered the call and put his phone up to his ear.

“Hello?”

Barney listened closely to the person on the other end of the phone, barely processing what they were saying. 

“What’s going on? 

Not going to believe what? 

So what, why are you telling me this?”

Barney listened closely, all before he felt his heart skip a beat. The sinking feeling in his chest was enough to render him silent, all before he let out a meek “I’ll call you later.”

Barney rushed out of the room, running past Kleiner in the process, nearly pushing him over as he approached the exit. “Barney? What’s going on, are you alright–” “They found him.” Barney’s voice shook as he spoke, with him barely being able to make out the words from how tight his throat was.

“Found who?”

Barney was already out of the building by the time Kleiner asked the question, leaving it unanswered.

Barney saw his own breath clouding in front of his face as he sprinted across the parking lot of the warehouse, nearly slipping on ice multiple times but not giving any time to care. When he reached his car, he swung the door open and crawled inside, starting the engine and speeding off without a single word. His thoughts ran through his head faster than his car was capable of going, slurring together without a single cohesive thought coming through. He didn’t care if he was a few miles above the speed limit; he needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible. He needed to see if what his coworker said was right.

If it was truly Gordon Freeman that was brought into the ER, he needed to be there.

When Barney made it to the hospital lot, he rushed through the front doors, looking around before approaching the front desk, out of breath from both the physical and mental strain that was put on him. Through harsh breaths, he asked, “Is Gordon Freeman here?”, with pleading eyes focused on the woman behind the desk.

“Oh, hello Mr. Calhoun, I can look through the system for a ‘Gordon Freeman’, if you’ll sit tight for a moment.” She looked towards the computer in front of her, typing in something and looking through files as Barney waited, his impatience building up inside of him.

“Fuck this.” He pushed himself away from the desk, storming down one of the hallways despite the woman at the front desk telling him he wasn’t allowed to as he was off duty. Barney rushed past hospital workers, asking them if they knew where Gordon was, only to be met with worried and frightened looks along with no answers. Barney’s frustration only grew as he ran through the hospital halls, with the familiar building beginning to feel like a maze meant to confuse him. As he ran further into the hospital wing, he slammed against one of the doctors in the hall, causing him to topple to the ground as Barney tripped over his own feet.

“Sorry, I just have to–”

“Barney? What the hell are you doing back here?” The man questioned as Barney sped past him.

“I’m looking for Gordon Freeman,” Barney answered, turning around. “Have you seen him?”

“He’s in the ER right now,” The man snapped back as he slowly stood up. “You can’t see him until he’s out of surgery.”

“Surgery? Is he safe? Is he alright?” Barney questioned, walking closer to the doctor. 

“Yes, he’ll be fine, just…” The doctor let out a tired sigh. “Get out of here, you’re off duty and risking your job with a stunt like this.”

“I need to see Gordon, alright?” Barney explained. “He’s been gone for a fucking DECADE, and he’s been found again, I can’t just leave him–”

“Calhoun.” The man raised his voice as he glared at Barney with a look of both contempt and pity. “...Listen, just wait until he’s out and I’ll see what I can do, do you understand?”

Barney remained silent for a moment, letting out a sharp breath before nodding. “Alright,” He stated, defeated. “But he better be getting the best treatment in there.”

“I’m sure they’re doing all they can, they understand his reputation–”

“I don’t care about his reputation, if i’m right, that’s my goddamn friend in there.” Barney spat. “...Let me know when he’s out. I need to at least…make sure it’s…the right guy.”

“I’m sure someone will let you know.” The doctor stated. “...Now please go back to the waiting room before I call security.”

Barney did as he was told, reluctantly walking across the hospital premises and back into the waiting room, where he will stay for another few hours. He paced around the room, bounced his foot up and down, fidgeted with his hands; anything to try and pass the time as the minutes passed by agonizingly slow. After he had already been there for what felt like days within the timespan of a few hours, he saw a nurse walk towards him. “Mr. Calhoun?”

Barney’s head lifted up, looking towards the nurse before following her down a hallway. After a couple-minutes walk, they stopped in front of a door leading to a recovery room. “He’s in there,” The nurse stated. “He’s currently sleeping, so I ask you to be quiet and not attempt to wake him up.��

“...Yeah.” Barney hesitated before walking through the door, stepping into the room, seeing a curtain blocking his view of the bed. He paused, standing in place for a moment as he wondered if the face he was about to see was truly Gordon, or simply someone mistaken as him. He wondered if he wanted the answer, or if he’d rather live in ignorance, avoiding the crippling disappointment if it wasn’t the man he thought it was, but as he walked past the curtain, every worry in his mind ceased and his thoughts became silent as he looked at the man on the bed.

Sure, his body was covered with blood-soaked bandages, his right leg was in a cast, he had medical equipment around him, and he was missing his glasses, but his face was painfully recognizable. Barney choked back a sob, covering his mouth when he saw Gordon’s face again.

“Are you alright?” The nurse behind him asked, noticing Barney’s teary-eyed look.

“I’m fine.” Barney whispered before letting out a short chuckle and a forced smile. “It’s just…he didn’t change a damn bit.”

Barney hadn’t even noticed it had been an hour since he entered the room, being surprised when he glanced at the clock and saw it was nearing 10 PM. He sat on a chair beside Gordon’s bed, having moved it from the corner of the room to right beside it. His leg bounced up and down as he looked at Gordon, all before lowering his head and letting out a deep sigh. He wished to speak to him but he was out of words he could possibly say at that very moment, not to mention the wish to stay quiet so Gordon could recover without being woken up. He wanted to tell Gordon everything that had happened in his absence; how Kleiner started up another lab to continue Black Mesa’s studies, how Eli also set up one on the other side of the city, and how Barney had finished college and was able to become a nurse. Gordon missed so much, and even though Barney wished to dump every piece of information onto him, he realized that even the realization that it had been ten years would be overwhelming enough. Thus, Barney figured to start simple, and just talk, like friends, for the first time since the Black Mesa incident.

As Barney leaned back into his seat he felt the back of his head hit something that wasn’t there before, feeling bitter cold yet organic at the same time, like a corpse’s fingers curling around the top of the backrest. He swung around, half expecting someone to be there, yet he saw nothing of the sort, seeing only the beige wall behind him. Barney let out his breath, looking back at Gordon before realizing he should head back; his stress and emotional state must have made him paranoid, not to mention the feeling of his hair standing on end. He stood up, walking towards the door out of the room before taking one last look back at Gordon before he finally left.

Later that night, Barney paced around his living room, being watched by his pet rottweiler as he talked on the phone. “The Survey team were the ones that found him?” he asked.

“That’s what they said,” Kleiner stated from the other side of the line. “The Vortigaunt was apparently the one that found him, specifically.”

“I see.”

“Quite Miraculous,” Kleiner continued, “The fact that Gordon had survived there for ten years before being found.”

“Yeah…” Barney unsurely stated under his breath.

“Nevermind that, what are you planning now?” Kleiner asked. “Should we have some kind of party? A celebration should be in order for him being back, I’d say–”

“I think he needs rest, he’s…been through a lot.” Barney stated. “I’ve thought of him staying over at my place until he can find a place of his own or until he recovers, but we’ll see how he’s feeling.”

“Are you sure? I’m sure we can find a spare room in the lab for him.”

“I dunno if he’d wanna live in a loud lab with a headcrab, doc.”

“...I suppose you have a fair point.”

“It was just so…strange.” Barney stated. “They say it was a ten year coma, but I don’t buy it. I don’t buy it at all.” “What makes you believe that?” 

“The fact he was bleeding. The fact he had fresh wounds from Black Mesa,” Barney elaborated, brows furrowed and his free arm crossing over his chest. “Not to mention the fact he was found with that…suit on.” “What kind of suit?” Kleiner questioned. “Oh, do you mean the Hazardous Environment Suit?”

“Yeah. Why would he be wearing it ten years after the incident was already over?”

“Who knows,” Kleiner sighed, “I’m sure I can talk with Eli to see if he has any ideas on–” Kleiner was interrupted by a loud crash and squeaking coming from behind him, audible through Barney’s phone. “Goodness gracious, LAMAR, NO–”

“You alright Doc?” 

“I’ll have to speak with you later, Lamar got in the vents again–Lamar get DOWN from there, that’s not safe!” After that, the call ended, and Barney was left to himself once again. Barney sighed, putting his phone back in his pocket before he heard a deep ruff coming from his dog, who was laying next to the couch in the living room, with its white patches of fur on its snout showing its age.

“You hear that, Gordon?” Barney said. “You might get a new roommate…a…different Gordon.”

The dog yawned and rested his head on his paws as Barney walked towards the living room couch, sitting on it and resting his feet on the coffee table in front of it. He leaned over the armrest, scratching the top of the dog’s head. “Guess I’ll have to explain to him why you’re also named Gordon, huh bud?”

Gordon didn’t respond, instead just letting out a soft ruff again. Barney leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling before folding his hands on top of his stomach. He wasn’t looking forward to explaining why his pet was named after his friend, he realized. After all, it’s not very easy to tell someone you thought they were dead for years.

As soon as Barney received the call that Gordon was awake the following evening, Barney rushed back to the hospital to visit him once again. As he drove across the city, worries he didn’t think about before began to creep up inside his brain. Even though he didn’t necessarily believe the coma theory the doctors had, nor did he believe even they believed it fully, he thought of the possibility of it being true, and if Gordon would even remember who Barney was after a full decade of sleep. It would be a surprise if Gordon remembered anything after that amount of time, but Barney pushed down his pessimism, trying to be optimistic just this once.

After making his way down the hospital hallway once again, he found himself back in front of the door to Gordon’s room, with a nervous feeling deep in his gut as he prepared to walk inside. He took in a breath and stepped inside, looking towards the bed in which Gordon was laying on, only to have his gaze met by two bright green eyes, ones Barney hadn't seen since ten years prior. Barney froze in place, staring back at Gordon, who appeared to be surprised to see him. As Barney sat down in the chair beside the bed, he swallowed hard, wondering what he could possibly say now that Gordon was awake. As he thought to himself, a question left his mouth that he wasn’t initially planning on asking:

“Where were you?”

The question lingered in the air like a foul odor, with Gordon’s brows furrowing lip quivering slightly, all while he curled his hands into fists. He turned away from Barney, looking down at his feet, thinking of something to say, though his hands didn’t once lift up to sign a single word.

“You…disappear for 10 years without warning,” Barney continued. “Leaving everyone to believe you were dead.”

Gordon didn’t make eye contact with Barney as he spoke.

“I thought you were dead and buried somewhere, Gordon,” Barney choked. “But…You’re here in front of me now.”

Gordon glanced at Barney before he felt arms being wrapped around his shoulders, tight, but not too tight to make it hurt.

“I fucking missed you, Gordon.” Barney said as he hugged Gordon, feeling the gesture being returned to him. Gordon’s hands shook, feeling weak and cold, yet he didn’t want to let go of the single shred of kindness he had felt since what felt like eternity. After a few moments Barney let go, sitting back down with red, tear-filled eyes. 

“...You…missed a lot.” Barney stated; Gordon nodded knowingly in response. “I’d tell ya’ everything, but…I don’t even know how to start.”

“Are they safe?” Gordon’s hands were shaking, but Barney could make out the message regardless.

“Who, like…Kleiner? Eli?”

Gordon nodded slightly, lips pursed in anticipation. 

“They’re alright,” Barney assured, allowing Gordon to let out a breath. “In fact…they’re excited to see you again. Kleiner especially, he’s hoping to get you back into his lab…don’t know if you want to do that, but the offer’s there.”

Gordon appeared to have had a weight lifted off his shoulders at the news, but the cold yet somber gaze didn’t leave his eyes. Barney planned to tell Gordon that they were among the few survivors of the Black Mesa incident, but he bit his tongue for the time being.

“...Never thought you’d be in the history books, did ya?” Barney let out a lighthearted chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood. “You’re a hero in everyone’s eyes, now.”

Gordon shook his head, looking down and away from Barney’s gaze as he clasped his hands together on his lap. Barney stared at him with a look of confusion and worry, all before forcefully clearing his throat. 

“I’m just…happy to see you alive, Gordon.” Barney stated. “After…a few years I began to…to lose hope.” Barney paused for a second, realizing Gordon was still not meeting his gaze. “...Should’ve known you were a tougher son of a bitch than that, I guess.”

Gordon scoffed slightly before shaking his head again, still staring at his feet. Silence fell as Barney attempted to think of something else to say to ease the tense atmosphere, though his thoughts were blank and void of any ideas. Barney looked towards Gordon yet again, seeing he was raising his hands up to sign something:

“Missed you too.”

Barney smiled slightly, despite feeling as if he wanted to cry right then and there. He never anticipated he’d be this emotional in his life, yet here he was; about to cry for the second time that day. Seeing his legally dead friend after ten years of being missing in action was enough to warrant it, he supposed.

“I’m sure the others will be happy to show you everything they’ve been working on,” Barney said, with Gordon finally looking back up at him, before looking directly behind him, “They’ve been working on a new telepor–”

Gordon flinched, staring at something behind Barney before attempting to crawl backwards, nearly ripping off his IV in the process. Barney looked behind him, seeing nothing but the wall before he heard a loud thud coming from the bed. He turned, seeing Gordon had fallen off of the bed and onto the cold linoleum floor. “Gordon!” Barney quickly ran to his aid, holding out an arm for Gordon to grab, lifting him off of the floor. When weight was put onto his right leg, Gordon grimaced, using Barney as leverage as he was put back onto the bed. “Jeez Gordon, what got you freaked out so ba–”

Barney was silenced when Gordon hugged him without warning. Barney could hear him quietly sobbing into his shoulder, and as he returned the hug, he wondered if he had ever seen Gordon so touchy before; It was as if he hadn’t had human contact in days. This time however, Barney wasn’t quick to let go. The last thing he wanted to do was leave his best friend behind again.

Not this time.

[indigobrushpen]

alone together

Felicia was curled up on the couch when you finally got back home, and she had a stomach ache.

She didn't tell you this, but you sorta knew just by looking at her- her pale face tight with discomfort, her lips pursed into a grimace, her large belly pressing against her dress, her hands resting over the swell-

And the fact that the dinner party she was supposed to be at didn't end until an hour later from now. She was still in her fancy blue dress.

"Hey," you called, kicking off your shoes. You made your way to the living room and Felicia gave you a tight, almost fake smile.

"Hi," she said, struggling to suppress a grimace. You spotted the large empty soup bowl and an empty Nestea can- and some napkins and crumbs - on the coffee table, and you thought, Oh.

" 'S everything alright?" you asked, sitting next to her. Felicia fidgeted, half-surprised.

"Hmm? Oh- oh, no, I'm perfectly- oooooh."

She was cut off by a sudden, thick gurgle. Her whole face twisted briefly, and she clutched at her stomach, taut and large and swollen.

You placed a hand on the small of her back, prompting her. There was a short silence, and then-

"...I really am okay," Felicia said unconvincingly. "It's just- mmh - my- my tummy just hurts a little bit, that's all."

"The dinner party didn't go well?"

Another fierce, sloshing gurgle. Felicia winced.

"No, no- it- it went well, just- I might've overdone it on the snacks," Felicia tried to smile, but another sharp ache must've run through her because she immediately grimaced. "I- oooh, that's not good..."

You'd seen Felicia at dinner parties before, and the picture was clear in your mind- Felicia downing plates of appetizers in secret, wolfing down her bowl of soup- feeling full and trying to wash it all down with dessert- feeling so abruptly full she couldn't move-

You gently pressed a hand against Felicia's stomach. She groaned a little, and you frowned at the intense bubbling pressure.

"Wow. You're really full, huh? You got a tummy ache?"

"Y-Yeah, I- mmh. Honey, can- can you get me something to drink?" Felicia asked, voice strained. "I-I don't think the Nestea helped much."

"You want water, Coke or Sprite?"

"Mmh- Sprite, please."

You didn't have any Sprite cans, but you did have a quarter of a two-liter. You poured that into a tall glass, snagging an antacid pill along the way (just in case).

Felicia took the glass and smiled gratefully when you returned- though it was a little strained. With one hand resting over her stomach, she chugged the contents in a few gulps.

You watched, transfixed, as she drank. The soda traveling into her pursed lips, throat bobbing with every gulp, chest rising and falling, stomach trembling, pushing at the seams of her fancy dress.

She pulled away shakily, sighing with slight relief, and you took the glass from her hand to set it on the table.

"Thank you," Felicia mumbled. "That helped, I should feel so much better after-"

A sudden, loud gurgle. Felicia's belly protested violently, and Felicia froze.

"After- oooooh," she doubled over slightly, curling in on herself, discomfort on every feature. You immediately put your hand on the small of her back again, rubbing up and down to soothe her.

"Felicia?"

"Ooooh- I- oh, no," Felicia groaned. "That's really not good..."

"Here," you said, bringing your other hand to rest over Felicia's belly. "Let me help?"

Felicia looked slightly confused, but nodded shakily, trying to suppress her pained grimace.

"How- mmh-"

You began to rub firm circles over the plush expanse of Felicia's belly, occasionally switching to stroking up and down. Your hand remained firm against the small of her back, applying extra pressure.

Felicia sighed, slightly contented- and then her tummy gurgled again.

"Ohhh, no," Felicia whispered tightly. You pressed more firmly into her tummy, and she briefly squeezed her eyes shut. "I- I- oooh, my stomach-"

You rubbed a little too firmly. there was a slight gurgling sound, and suddenly Felicia surged forward and belched loudly.

"BHHHHUUUUUUUUURRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHPPPP!"

It took the both of you by surprise- loud and nasty and probably painful. Felicia's stomach must've really hurt, if she had that much trapped gas- and probably more left.

But before you could even say anything, Felicia clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide. She looked mortified, face going red.

"...'Scuse me," Felicia managed after a few moments of silence, hands hovering near her mouth.

She looked really, really embarrassed, and she was clearly still in pain, and you knew better than to tease her.

"...You feel any better?"

"What? Oh, mmh- yeah," Felicia said quickly, turning to look away. "I must've cleared up my stomach after... that. Uh, I-I should go and rest, I- mmph!"

Her tummy gurgled, and Felicia clamped her mouth shut, swallowing back a surge of air. There was a slight sloshing sound, and Felicia's face tightened.

"Hey, hey- don't hold back," you urged, rubbing her back. "You'll hurt your stomach. Come on, I'll help."

"H-help?" Felicia hiccupped.

"You need to burp, don't you? Come on, I know that face. Here, I've got you. Go on."

Felicia fidgeted, lips pursed. "You- you aren't grossed out?"

"Of course not," you said. " 'S just a bit of gas, and it'll make you feel better. Go on, it's just me."

Subconsciously, you began to massage her taut, aching stomach- rubbing in wide, soothing circles.

Felicia shakily opened her mouth to respond. "I-"

She made a funny face, placing a hand over her chest. "I- mmh- BHUUUUUUUUURRRGGGGHHHHHPPP! Mmh! 'Scuse me..."

"Feel better?" you said, grinning slightly. Felicia blushed, but nodded.

"A- A little," she admitted sheepishly. She still looked mortified, but a little less uncomfortable. "I- I, uhm-"

"Still need to burp?" you said knowingly. "Man, that soda really-"

"Can you rub my back?" Felicia blurted out. Her belly gurgled, and you absently rubbed at it a little. "I- I just- I'm sorry, but I... I feel something stuck and- and I really don't feel good."

She looked even more mortified than before.

"Don't be sorry," you said immediately. " 'Course I will."

You rubbed her tummy a little more, just to soothe her nerves. With your other hand, you began to stroke generously up and down her back. After a few moments, Felicia seemed to relax a little, her shoulders loosing some of their stiffness.

Her tummy gurgled, though not as loudly as before. Felicia grimaced, then belched.

"BBUUURRRRRGGHHP! Oh, 'scuse me," She daintily pressed her fingers to her mouth, just as you began to pat her back with just a little too much force. Her belly gurgled.

"Mmph- BHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRGGGHHHP!"

Felicia slapped a hand over her mouth by instinct.

"You're excused," you teased, rhythmically patting her back, and Felicia giggled sheepishly, somewhat less nervous. "But you better say it, just in case."

"Excuse me," Felicia said, a hand on her chest. Then her eyes went wide and she burped loudly, and then, to your delight, she giggled even louder.

"E-Excuse me!" She laughed. "That just- that just slipped out!"

You snickered, patting her back, pressing gently against her stomach. "Damn. What else have you been keeping in there?"

"Probably a bit too much soda," Felicia said jokingly. Her nose twitched and you patted her back again. Felicia belched, but much more quietly.

"BHUURRGGGHP! Mmmh. 'Scuse me. Oh, that last one felt weird, it sort of tickled my throat."

She slumps against you, exhausted. You resume patting her back.

"How's your stomach?"

"My tummy feels a lot better," Felicia admits. The red blush on her face from her previous mortification is still prettily dusted across her cheeks. "Thanks, honey."

"Anytime."

[hattiestgal]

(WIP) I'm so sick and illllllllll I am so. unwell.

[entering--hyperspace]

Common blood legion tribune occurrence

[whumpsday]

K&J: Kane's Whumptober Bites #1

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, torture, broken bones, whumper turned whumpee, referenced starvation, sadistic whumper

@whumptober Day 1 (Alt): Aftermath of Failure / Playing Cards / Broken

-

"Looks like you're out, leech." The hunter grinned as he revealed his hand, obviously pleased with the outcome. “You know what that means.”

Kane’s fingers scrunched up where they rested on his thighs while the other hunters snickered, like he could protect them if he just hid them well enough.

He stared down at his losing cards with growing dread. “Yes, sir.”

The hunter held out his hand. Kane forced himself to uncurl his right, laying it in the hunter’s. His own deficiencies were even sharper there: his hand was bony from starvation, like his skin was vacuum-sealed around his bones. The hunter’s hand was thick and strong, his job physical and his access to nutritious food unrestricted. His own trembled slightly, while the hunter’s stayed steady and sure in his cruelty.

It didn’t take much. The malnutrition had left his bones brittle enough that all it took was the hunter bending his pinkie finger the wrong way until– 

Snap.

Kane let out a yelp, his finger throbbing with pain. It wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened, not by a long shot. But it still hurt horribly, and would take weeks to heal completely in his state.

“There you go.” The hunter patted his hand–an extra dose of pain jolting through him at the contact. “Now, let’s get you dealt back in. You’ve got nine fingers left, after all. Who knows, maybe you’ll even win yourself a rest.”

“Yes, s-sir,” Kane replied, handing over his cards. He wished so badly that he could go back, play cards with his human again. Those had been some of the highlights for both of them, he could tell. The human always liked playing games. Kane may have made his life hell in many other ways, but at the very least, he never punished the human for winning or losing games. It was just… nice.

But he didn’t get to have nice things anymore.

[rat-punch]

more damnb icons.......

[purplehairnpronouns]

[Shiyuu hesitantly knocks on the door to the infirmary. They enter, awkwardly closing the door behind them.] “Ah…hello…” [They clear their throat and straighten their posture.] ”Is uh…Is Coven here? Coven…Skyefall?”

-@nrcsfavoriteshrimp

Looking up from their notebook, Coven shifts slightly on the cot they had been assigned to. Confused for a moment before speaking up.

“ that’s me. Is this about the.. um- nevermind- what did you need? “

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

day 11: escape/breaking the conditioning/safe and sound + daero

Prompt from the Augusnippets @augusnippets challenge!

Path of Comfort: day 11: escape/breaking the conditioning/safe and sound

Could loosely be read as a follow-up to this, with the same caretakers

Content Warnings: demon whump, aftermath of captivity, aftermath of torture, trauma, nightmares, comfort, rescue, recovery, pain medicine

----

A week later and it still doesn't feel real.

The two humans tell Daero that he is safe and sound. That there will continue to be food and water, that their hands won't strike him. Their touches are soft, their voices quiet. They smell like citrus and cinnamon.

But still Daero flinches when either one enters the room. He still expects to wake in that damp dungeon, chained, beaten and starved.

Nightmares plague him, disrupting his much needed rest. On the worst nights, like tonight, his cries wake the humans and they are quickly by his side.

He is just awake enough to hear and feel them. One soothes him with kind words while wiping his tears away. The other holds a spoonful of pain medicine to his lips until he drinks. Then they sit on either side of him and wait.

In the moments just before falling asleep, when the medicine kicks in and he melts into the cushions, Daero feels something like peace.

[sucker-for-sniffles]

sharing a cold dot png