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starryknight09 · 3 years

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This is going to hurt

Febuwhump Day 16: broken bones

Read on AO3.

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“Come on Spiderman.” Peter mumbled as he stood on the ledge of the building. Heights hadn’t scared him ever since he’d gotten his powers, but standing up here now, if felt different. Even though he was in his old Spiderman suit with his webshooters attached to his wrists, it all took on a completely different feeling now that he’d lost his powers. A month ago he’d gotten hit by some weird ray gun and ever since then his powers had remained dormant.

Tony kept trying to convince him they’d figure it out, and at first Peter had believed him, but now after a month of no progress, he was starting to lose hope. No matter how many times Tony had tried to tell him they just needed a little more time and Peter just needed to be patient, Peter couldn’t help but worry. What if they couldn’t figure it out? He couldn’t go back to being just Peter Parker. He couldn’t. Peter Parker was a loser. A nerdy nobody. He didn’t know what he’d do if he couldn’t be Spiderman.

Then this morning he’d had an idea. Tony was Ironman without any powers, so maybe he could still be Spiderman even without his powers. He wasn’t deluded. He knew he couldn’t go out and fight crime right now, but if he put in some crazy work and training, maybe someday he could get there. And maybe without his powers he could still swing. He just needed a little hope. And that’s why he was standing on top of a four story building staring down at the street. He’d been afraid to try any higher. Even this height made his heart pump with adrenaline.

“You can do this.” He tried to convince himself. “You can. You do this all the time. You’re Spiderman.”

He took a deep breath. In. Out.

“Ok. Time to jump.” He said but his feet stayed firmly planted on the roof.

He took another calming breath. “Ok. On three. One. Two. Three.”

His feet remained stuck.

“Stop being a chicken.” He mumbled, annoyed at his cowardice. “Jump. Come on. Do it. Do it. Do it!”

He jumped. The fall that used to invigorate him just sent terror through his veins. He fumbled with his webshooter for a moment before his fingers found the button, sending a web over to the opposite building. It tightened and for a second and he was flying, swinging like he always used to as Spiderman. He got to the peak of his arc and released his web. He was actually doing it!

Oh shit. He needed to shoot another web. His eyes searched frantically for the next best place to anchor it, but it was a lot harder without his super senses. As the space between himself and the ground rapidly decreased, h haphazardly shot a web out, hoping it would stick somewhere to stop his descent. It stuck. But he’d misjudged the placement of it, and instead of swinging into an open alley, he was headed straight toward the wall of the building.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit. This is going to hurt. Was all he had time to think before he slammed into the brick.

The absolute force of it rang through his entire body even into his teeth and made him lose his grip on the web. He floundered in midair before smacking into the concrete alleyway below, narrowly missing a dumpster.

He let out a whimper of a breath, his cheek pressed against the ground. Ouch. The understatement of the century. As Spiderman he could get hurt. The mutation didn’t make him invincible, but he didn’t realize until now that part of the mutation helped with his pain tolerance, because he couldn’t remember ever being in as much pain as Spiderman as he was in right now. And that was saying something because he’d been stabbed, concussed, shot, and broken bones before, and it’d never felt like this.

This was terrible all encompassing pain. He couldn’t even figure out where he hurt the most. Oh shit. He’d really messed up. Tears prickled in his eyes, but it hurt too much to cry so they just dripped silently out the corners.

He had no idea how long he laid there. Time lost all meaning as he focused solely on breathing through the agony. Breathe in. Out. In. Out. Eventually some semblance of rational thought returned. He didn’t know if the pain had gotten a tiny bit better or if he’d acclimated to the all consuming nature of it, but he finally had enough mental fortitude to start thinking about what he needed to do. As much as he wanted to lay there forever and not move, he knew he couldn’t. He needed help. He needed…his phone.

With the way he’d landed on his left side, his right arm was free with his hand resting mere inches from his pocket. One lucky break. He inched it into his pocket, scissoring his phone between two of his fingers, and pulled it out. There was no way he could lift it to his face, but he didn’t need to. He tapped the home button five times in rapid succession, the sequence Tony had programmed into it as an SOS call. Almost instantly he felt it start buzzing as Tony undoubtedly tried calling him. He didn’t answer. It stopped buzzing for a few seconds before it started up again. Tony was probably freaking out, and Peter hated that his worry wouldn’t be unfounded for once.

Peter let his eyes slide shut, not wanting to keep staring at the alley wall inches from his face. It wouldn’t be long now. Tony would be appropriately panicked out by now, which meant he’d take the suit, and since he lived in the city, having moved back with Morgan and Pepper after the Thanos thing, it should be only a few minutes until he arrived.

Even though he’d been expecting it, the clang of Ironman landing next to his crumpled form still surprised him. Usually he would’ve heard him coming from miles away. He didn’t know if he’d ever get used to not having his super senses.

“Peter!” Tony’s fear seeped into his voice.

Peter groaned so the man would at least know he was conscious.

Tony knelt down next to him and Peter cracked his eyes open to catch the man’s hand hovering inches above his shoulder before abandoning the idea of touching him. “Shit kid. What were you—”

Tony stopped and frowned, obviously noticing that he had on his old Spiderman suit because the man gently pulled his mask off. A second later Peter could see it in his eyes. The exact moment Tony realized what must’ve happened. What Peter had been doing. Why he was wearing his old suit. The man’s eyes widened in shocked disbelief before he looked up, taking in how far Peter must’ve fallen.

“I’m sorry.” He rasped out.

“Don’t…don’t move kid.” Tony said instead of chewing him out like he’d expected.

He hummed in acknowledgement.

“FRIDAY scan him and call for an emergency medivac.”

Peter didn’t hear her response or the outcome of her scan, the AI probably feeding the information directly into Tony’s ear.

“It really hurts.” He mumbled. “It’s never hurt like this before.”

“I know but it’s going to be ok. Just hang in there. The med team will be here soon and we’ll get you back to the compound.” Tony tried to reassure him, but Peter could hear the anxiety in his tone.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, more tears sliding down his cheeks. “It was…it was stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“It’s ok.” Tony comforted, lightly brushing the tears off his cheeks. “We’ll, uh, we’ll talk about it later. Just try to concentrate on something else.”

He tried to but thinking about anything besides the pain was near impossible. He whimpered.

“It’s all right.” Tony tried to soothe him. “Here. Squeeze my hand.” Tony put his hand in Peter’s and Peter gave it a light squeeze, surprised it didn’t make anything hurt worse, and it almost did help as something to focus on. Another wave of pain crashed over him and he gripped it harder, not having to worry about squeezing too hard because his super strength was gone. He let his entire world shrink down to holding Tony’s hand and concentrating on breathing as Tony continued to speak softly to him in reassurance.

When the medivac team finally arrived, Peter barely noticed them buzzing around him until they put a neck brace on him and rolled him onto a backboard. He scrunched his eyes closed and grit his teeth as they strapped him down. Man, that had hurt, and the new position left him feeling claustrophobic, especially when they placed an oxygen mask over his face. He frowned, not sure how else to show his displeasure. If he opened his mouth to try to say something, he worried he might scream.

Something poked him in his arm, barely noticeable in comparison to all the pain emitting from the rest of his body. A few seconds later he felt a burning sensation as they injected something into the IV they’d placed, and the pain receded almost instantaneously, his body slackening in relief.

“Better?” Tony asked, still hovering next to him.

Peter hummed his appreciation, eyes slipping closed. Now that the pain had stopped assaulting him, he was exhausted. He vaguely registered the medics lifting him and then they were moving toward something. Something annoyingly loud.

“Just a short helicopter ride and we’ll be at the compound.” Tony said and Peter realized all the noise was from the rotating blades of the helicopter as it waited in the middle of the street. That had to be all kinds of illegal. But he doubted Tony cared. Peter didn’t care either. Of all the things he’d done, he’d never actually ridden in a helicopter before. They loaded him in, Tony taking a seat right beside him and slipping his hand back in Peter’s as soon as they were settled.

Peter gave it a squeeze, determined to stay awake to experience the helicopter ride, but the painkillers pulled him down and he faded out before they even took off.

Awareness came. And went. Came back. And left again. Lapping at him like gentle waves. Until suddenly it was just there.

He opened his eyes and instantly recognized the medbay since he’d spent more than his fair share of time there. The lights were dimmed to their lowest setting so it must be nighttime. Peter took a moment to take stock of himself. He hurt, but in that detached way that signaled he was on some heavy duty painkillers. He glanced down at his legs. The right one was in a cast from his foot all the way up to his hip and propped up on a plethora of pillows. Peter wiggled his toes and let out a sigh of relief when they moved. Thank god. He continued to peruse the rest of his body. He laid shirtless so he could see all the angry bruises covering the entire left side of his chest. Ouch. His left arm was casted up to his armpit and in a sling, resting on its own pillow so it didn’t touch his bruised left side. He recognized the tickle in his nose as an oxygen cannula. Man. He’d really messed himself up.

Regret settled in and he closed his eyes with a sigh before opening them again a few seconds later. As he turned his head, looking for a clock, his eyes settled on a figure slumped in a chair next to his bed. Everything was blurry without his glasses, but he easily recognized the man without them. Tony. His mentor’s head was craned sideways, practically resting on his shoulder, fast asleep. Peter winced in sympathy. That position looked really uncomfortable.

“Hey.” He said, deciding to wake him up. Maybe if he saw Peter was awake and doing fine, he’d be ok with leaving to sleep in an actual bed.

Tony startled at the noise, straightening up and grabbing at his neck with a grimace before freezing when he noticed Peter was awake and watching him.

“Pete?” He whispered, leaning forward. “You awake?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s the pain?”

“It’s ok.” He didn’t know if that’d hold true if he tried moving, but as long as he laid still it was fine.

“Good.” Tony nodded as he searched the sheets for something. He found it and placed the plastic cylinder with a button on top in Peter’s hand. “If it starts to hurt you push this button, ok?”

He nodded, licking his lips, before asking, “How bad is it?”

Tony ran a hand through his hair and sat back in his chair with a sigh. “You’re going to live, but you broke six of your ribs on your left side, your left wrist, arm, and collarbone, and every bone in your right leg. They had to put a rod in it.”

“Ouch.” He mumbled.

“There was some internal bleeding too, but it stopped on its own, so you shouldn’t need surgery for it.”

Peter swallowed hard. “Sounds serious.”

“That’s an understatement.” Tony said, voice taking on a slightly angry edge. “Do you know how incredibly lucky you are?”

“Don’t really feel lucky.” He huffed. Oops. He hadn’t really meant to say that. It’d just slipped out. He was definitely on some good drugs.

“Well you are.” Tony shot him a disapproving look. “You’re going to be able to walk away from this when you just as easily could’ve died.”

He winced. “I’m sorry Tony.”

Tony let out a heavy sigh before asking almost desperately, “What were you thinking?”

Oh. So they were going to talk about it. He supposed that made sense, but he didn’t think the timing was exactly fair since he had a hard time censoring himself when he was high on painkillers. And Tony knew it.

“I just…” He fought the urge to fidget knowing it would probably hurt. “I just wanted to prove that I could still be Spiderman even without my powers.”

“Kid…” Peter hated how torn up Tony sounded.

“I know it was stupid.” He added, not wanting to face Tony’s pity. “I know. I guess I just thought if I could at least still swing around then maybe Spiderman wasn’t really gone for good. But obviously I can’t even do that…”

“Pete, how many times do I have to tell you Spiderman’s not gone? He’s just on a hiatus.” Tony said, voice softening.

“It’s been over a month.” Peter argued. “My powers aren’t coming back.”

“They will.” Tony said and Peter hated how certain he sounded when Peter felt anything but. “Your mutation is still there. Your powers are still there. We just need to get rid of whatever’s suppressing them, and Bruce is really close. He thinks he’ll have it figured out in the next week or so.”

“Really?” He asked tentatively, afraid to hope.

“Really.” Tony reached out to squeeze his good hand. “You just need to be patient a little longer, but you’ll be back to swinging in no time. Well, after you heal from all this. Hopefully we can get your powers back sooner rather than later so you don’t have to be laid up for too long.”

“Are you sure?” He still couldn’t believe it.

“Of course I’m sure. Would I lie to you about this?”

“No.” Peter knew he wouldn’t.

“Then trust me. We’re going to get you your powers back.”

Peter sighed in relief. “Thank god. You have no idea how scared I was that I was going to have to go back to being just stupid Peter Parker.”

“Hey.” Tony chastised, giving his hand another squeeze. “I think Peter Parker’s pretty great.”

“Not like Spiderman.”

“No, you’re right. He’s not.” Tony agreed and Peter’s heart fell for a second before Tony added, “He’s better.”

The corner of his mouth tugged up in a smile. “Thanks.”

“I’m not saying anything that isn’t true.” Tony shrugged. “Now, if I were you, I’d try to get some sleep because you’re going to need all your energy to explain yourself to your scary aunt tomorrow.”

He groaned. “She’s here? You told her?”

“Of course I told her. You jumped off a four story building and almost broke every bone in your body!”

Peter winced.

“She was here sitting with you until I sent her to bed a few hours ago.”

“She’s going to kill me.”

“Well she’s definitely not happy. She’s got a nice lecture all prepared. She practiced it on me. It’s a doozy.”

Peter groaned again.

“So, as I was saying,” Tony continued as he pulled the covers up to his shoulders, “you should rest up tonight because you’re going to need all your strength tomorrow.”

Tony wasn’t wrong, and Peter was tired. Their short conversation had sapped his energy. His eyes slipped closed for a second before he opened them again, remembering something. “Hey Tony?”

“Hm?” Tony looked up from where he’d already been typing away at something on his phone.

“You don’t have to stay. You can go sleep in your own bed if you want. I’ll be all right.” He told him before closing his eyes again.

Instead of walking out, Tony smoothed down his blankets and ran a hand over his hair. “I’m staying kid. Get some sleep.”

Peter had to work to keep the smile off his face as he did exactly that.

#febuwhump2021 #febuwhump #irondad

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odekiisu · 4 years

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Fractions of Echo - VI - The Saga of Captain Rex’s Hair, Part the Second

The campaign had already been going on for far too long, and the men were exhausted. Apparently, the Captain and the Commander had somehow gotten pinned down at the bottom of a canyon with a small squad of troopers, with no way out that didn’t involve having to shoot their way through a whole battalion of clankers. They were stuck there for the better part of two days, before an extraction team made it to their position and got them out. By the time they got back to base, dark red dust was clinging to their armour and, if Echo’s experience of the dust on this karking planet was anything to go by, getting inside crevices that it should not be able to get to. But now, word was that they were close to victory, close to finally being able to get off this miserable ball of dust.

“Echo, Fives, a word?” the Captain’s voice came from somewhere behind them. As one, they turned, and the Captain indicated that they follow him to the command tent. As soon as they entered, the Captain removed his helmet.

Echo looked at Fives. Fives looked at Echo.

“Uh, Captain?” Echo asked. “You still have… a bit of that dust in your hair.”

Captain Rex ran a hand through his hair. “No, I don’t…” he started, then realization dawned. “Ah.”

“What’s that?” the Commander asked, entering the tent behind them. “Hey Rex, your roots are showing. You told me to tell you if that ever happens.”

The Captain turned to Commander Tano with a sigh. “So much for our company’s secret then.”

The Commander’s laugh was high-pitched and sounded like bells tinkling. Echo marvelled at how young she seemed – despite rationally knowing that she was older than him and Fives, older even than Captain Rex. But in this moment, he couldn’t take his eyes off the Captain’s hair, catching the light in odd ways. It certainly wasn’t black like his own, but neither was it the pale blond he usually sported, but more a shade of reddish bronze quite similar to the colour of his skin. Echo could see how it would be hard to spot under most circumstances.

“You know,” Commander Tano confided in them, “He used to be light blond like he normally is now, but as he got older his hair got darker.”

The Captain sighed. “Could I retain at least some sense of mystery?”

“Nope,” the Commander chirped, and added with a frankly adorable crinkling of her nose, “Hair is weird. Does it normally change colour that much?”

“Uhhh…” Fives looked to Echo, who replied, “…no? Not for us at least.”

“Huh.” The Commander hopped up on the table. “Now, about that strategy you suggested…”

***

“Hey,” Hardcase said, as he and Jesse bracketed Echo and Fives on their way back to barracks from their showers – and man, how great it felt to have an actual water shower after the mess of dust that was Florrum.

“Word is you’ve solved the mystery of the good Captain’s hair,” Jesse said.

“And what if we have?” Fives smirked.

“Care to enlighten us poor souls with the truth?”

Fives looked to Echo, mischief writ clear in his eyes. “What’s in it for us?”

“How about this: whoever the victor is will pay us a cut?” Echo suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“Deal,” Hardcase replied immediately.

“Hmm… I’ll have to think on it,” Fives said. “Give us a bit to think this over?”

“Oh, sure thing, take your time,” Jesse replied.

***

Echo approached Hardcase in his barracks. Jesse was nowhere in sight – he’d timed it well. “Fives and I agreed on it, and we know you know where this barracks’ stash of contraband is.”

Hardcase straightened up. “So you’re here to make a deal?”

Echo nodded. “Yes. I’ll tell you, in exchange for a bag of sweets. No less than a proper handful.”

Hardcase held up a finger before darting to the next bunk, digging around underneath it, and coming out with an unmarked box. He grabbed a handful from it, then held it out sheepishly. “No bag. Sorry.”

Echo nodded, taking the candy and distributing them between two belt compartments. “You were right,” he told Hardcase. “The Captain’s a natural blond.”

“Ha! Knew it,” Hardcase punched the air. “How did you find out?”

“Last campaign. He took his bucket off in the command tent, it was obvious that he hadn’t cut his hair in two weeks. Blond.”

***

Fives cornered Jesse after a drill. “So, it appears I have some information you want. What are you willing to pay for it?”

Jesse considered. “I may have some moonshine secreted away somewhere.”

“Hmmm… I’d take it for me, but Echo’s not much of a drinker, and I gotta share.”

“Chocolate, then?” Jesse offered. “You ever had chocolate? Lotsa people have bet chocolate on the outcome, and if your expression is anything to go by, I’m about to get a significant increase to my stash.”

Fives smirked. “Chocolate’s fine.”

Jesse nodded. They were almost at barracks, but Jesse took a sharp right just before they reached the door, leading Fives to a seemingly random service hatch in an alcove. “Keep an eye out, would you?”

Fives turned around and watched the corridor, but this was out of the way and none of the brothers walking past along the larger hallway connecting the gyms to the barracks even so much as glanced at them.

“Here,” Jesse said, handing a bag to Fives. “This enough?”

Fives opened it to see a decent quantity of chocolates, wrapped in sparkly multicoloured foil. “Perfect.” He unwrapped one and popped it into his mouth, the smooth sweet taste almost overwhelming him. “You’re right, by the way. Captain Rex does bleach his hair.”

***

Echo and Fives strode into Rex’s rarely-used office, their faces sporting matching smirks.

“Got something for me, boys?” he asked, setting the datapad and its requisition forms aside.

Echo set a small bag down on the Captain’s desk and slid it over to him. Rex opened it up to see a small handful of individually wrapped sweets – he recognized the Chandrilan chocolates, and the small round caramels, but the rest were a mystery he’d take great pleasure in discovering for himself. “Excellent,” he told them. “Thank you. How did they react?”

“Both fell for it,” Fives said. “I’m guessing they’ll find out tonight, if they haven’t already.”

“The barracks will be in an uproar,” Rex mused.

Echo agreed. “It’ll be absolute chaos. You want a holovid?”

“I don’t think giving incriminating evidence to me is the best idea… but then again, who’s to say the file won’t become corrupted immediately after I’ve watched it?” There was a mischievous twinkle in the Captain’s eyes, same as when they’d hatched this plan together.

Fives inclined his head. “It’ll be done, sir.”

Echo cleared his throat. “A question, if I may, sir?”

“Yes?”

“Why do you dye your hair?”

Captain Rex sighed. “I used to get a lot of flak for my hair colour as a cadet, but then… I guess I got used to it. Did keep my head shaved at one point, but when it grew back three shades darker, I realized that I missed the old colour. It looked distinctive. Sharp.”

Echo nodded.

“Anything else?” the Captain asked.

“No, sir,” Echo and Fives replied in unison, and the Captain dismissed them.

“Oh, and Captain?” Echo called over his shoulder. “Be grateful we haven’t told them about your premature grey hairs.”

The door hadn’t quite closed behind them when Echo heard it swoosh open again.

“Echo, report to LD-37 first thing tomorrow. You’ve got two shifts helping sort the laundry.”

Worth it, Echo thought.

(I - II - III - IV - V)

#clone trooper echo #clone trooper fives #clone trooper hardcase #clone trooper jesse #captain rex #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #ode's writing #fractions of echo

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sprnklersplashes · 4 years

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heart of stone (7/?)

AO3

Unlike most of his peers, Damian isn’t excited at all about moving out. There’s a lot he loves about living at home-having a mom who cooks him his own meals, not having to pay bills, living withing walking distance of his best friends and a not having to do his own laundry. All those little conveniences are things he’ll miss sorely when that day comes, but the biggest reason has nothing to do with any of that. No, the reason he dreads moving out is because he’s not sure if he’ll be able to find a roommate that will put up with his constant singing around the house. Especially around audition time.

Which is why now, he’s practicing his rendition of Dressing Them Up in his bedroom, his mom being incredibly cool about the whole thing downstairs and Janis on Facetime, earbuds in and bopping along with him and giving him more enthusiasm than the actual audience probably will.

“You sound great.” She’s sitting cross legged on her hospital bed in a sweater and leggings, her face more bare than it was yesterday, but her eyes still bright and laugh lines creased around her eyes and mouth. She’s still her.

It was tough, seeing her for the first time, but weirdly, it wasn’t nearly as tough as he thought it would be. Once he got past the strangeness of the hospital environment and the little emotional hiccup she had with Cady, he knew she’s still her. Hard situation, uncomfortable new world, but still his Janis.

“You think so?” he says. “I don’t know about this song. All the forums say it’s a really good song to audition for the Emcee with.”

“And it’s your party piece,” she tells him. “Remember freshman year, you sang it for my grandpa?”

“I miss your grandpa,” he sighs.

“I’ll let him know. He calls me weekly now.” She shifts on the bed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Before he even realises what she’s doing, he checks her arm. No IV in there. Why does that make him feel better? “So do you think you’re going to change it?”

“Should I?” he asks, looking through his music. “The audition’s tomorrow. I don’t know if I can research and learn a new song by tomorrow.”

“Then don’t,” she tells him. “You’re overthinking it.”

“You’re telling me off for overthinking,” he says rather indignantly, raising an eyebrow at her. “This is the same girl who texted me at 2 in the morning for my opinion on a dog meme to send to Cady.”

“I needed a second opinion,” she says.

“Thought you didn’t need opinions,” he teases.

“Maybe I need yours,” she says softly, the grin on her face lighting up the screen. “Dick.”

“Don’t even love you,” he replies, blowing a kiss softly to the screen. Janis giggles, hiding her face behind her hand.

“Okay, you have the scene worked out as well?”

“I think so.” He picks up the extract from his bed. He’s done it for everyone, Janis, his mom, Janis’ mom, Cady, even the plastics. He learned that day that Gretchen is amazing at giving weirdly specific compliments and also knows more about theatre than he’d have guessed. Maybe in another life she’d be a drama geek like him. “It’s just an audition anyway. They’re not looking for the finished product. Just potential.”

“And you my good man are 6’2” of raw mother fucking potential.”

“Janis, language!”

“Raw mother freaking potential. Sorry, mom.” Somewhere behind the phone, Janis’ mom says something and Janis chuckles, rolling her eyes. “I’m not allowed to cuss in here. Since this is a ‘children’s ward’.” She quotes the word with her fingers. “Which is apparently where I belong.”

“You are a children,” he reminds her.

“I am older than you!” she spits back, laughter shaking her voice. She leans back on the bed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. The joke slips from her face, leaving soft sincerity in its place. “Are you nervous?”

“I don’t get nervous.” She raises her eyebrow at him, of course. By now she can see into his brain like there’s a little window on his forehead. It’s why he can’t bullshit with her, and conversely, why she can’t with him. “A little. I just really want a good role, you know. It’s our last show.”

“Which is why you’re going to ace that audition so hard,” she tells him. “Just don’t drink dairy in the morning and do your breathing before you go in. And stay away from the candy!”

“Pity you’re not here to remind me,” he says.

“True, but I did take the liberty of passing on all the info to Cady,” she tells him. “She knows what to do.”

“You’re a hero, babe.”

“Don’t I just know it,” she says. “Are you going to do the whole ‘dress for the part you want’?”

“Of course.” He runs over to his wardrobe and shows her the outfit he’d picked out for tomorrow, black silk waistcoat and black skinny jeans, his dance shoes in his bag. “What do we think?”

“Oh, that’s so sexy,” she tells him. “We need to bring waistcoats back to the collective again. I miss them.” Before he can answer, she looks beyond the camera, nodding along to a conversation he can’t hear. She casts an anxious glance at him, so quickly that he would have missed it if he blinked. “Okay. Okay, yeah fine, I know. Okay fine.” She turns back to him, letting out a long exhale that makes the hair on his arms stand up. He can’t help it; he has built-in parental instincts and they’ve been heightened ever since Janis went to hospital. So much so that even when she flashes up a peace sign and grins, it’s hard for him to grin back. “I have to bounce. Go get a good night’s sleep, ace it tomorrow, and tell the drama club that my services are still available.”

“I’ll let them know,” he says. He sits on the bed, tucking one leg under his body. He’s reluctant to let her go, their time together so precious now. “I love you, honey pot.”

“Love you more, bitch.” Her face freezes and then she’s gone. Not gone, he corrects himself. Just… not around for him right now.

“Okay,” he exhales, giving himself a shake. She’s fine. She said she was fine, she looked fine, she is fine. And she will be fine. She even said that she might be well enough to come see him in the show, all things going smoothly. The thought alone is enough to make him smile. Of course she will. The show won’t be for months anyway. He just has to get through this first. So he picks up his music and bounces down the stairs, ready to treat his mom and sisters to yet another rendition.

*****

It’s just after second period when the nerves do start to kick in. He’s not scared or intimidated, he can’t be he approaches auditions the way Cady would a calculus test, as a thrilling challenge to be overcome and a way to improve, whatever the outcome. But like he said to Janis, it’s his last year. He’s not gotten parts before but would be different. He wouldn’t throw a fit or leave the show if he didn’t get it, those types of divas make him cringe so much it hurts. But he can’t shake the idea that it wouldn’t be as special if he were in the ensemble in his last year. Besides, this is his part. Always has been.

“Hey.” He jumps off the floor, so wrapped up in his own thoughts he’d barely noticed the person sliding up beside him. He’s even more surprised when he sees who it is; Regina, wearing a lacrosse jersey over her white dress and a smile that’s uncharacteristically apprehensive. Since when did Regina George doubts? More to the point, since when did Regina talk to him? He wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t even know his name until Cady told him. He just assumed he was ‘Janis’ gay friend’ to her, nothing more. The same way she’s nothing more than ‘asshole Queen Bee I’d punch given the chance’ to him.

“Hi,” he says flatly. Her smile falters at his tone, and he has to hide his own smirk behind his locker door. Someone clearly isn’t used to not being given the golden treatment.

“So… how’s Janis doing?”

And the surprises keep on coming.

“You care?” he snorts.

“Yeah, I do.” Her tone is more defensive this time, the familiar anger that’s become her trademark making an appearance. Somehow, she sounds more natural this way. She shakes her head and tosses her dark hair over her shoulder. “You’ve talked to her recently, I’m guessing.”

“Of course I have. She’s my best friend,” he fires back, suddenly finding himself on the defence. Heat prickles on his skin and he wants nothing more than to get out of this conversation.

“I just… wanted to know how she’s doing,” she says, her voice quiet and her arms crossed over her chest. He closes the locker door and looks at her, trying to find some semblance of the ruthless predator he knows rather than the timid, vulnerable creature before him. It’s unsettling, seeing her like this, and he’s almost certain it’s a trap. “So how is she?”

“She’s great.” He slams the locker door closed and now it’s her turn to jump. “Janis is doing great. And she’s being let out for a week on Friday. So, she’s great.”

“O-okay,” she replies. She picks at her nails, her eyes growing wide. It’s only when she takes a step back that he can breathe again. She gives an attempted smile and it doesn’t look right on her face. “That’s cool. That’s good to hear.”

“Yeah.” He puts his bag on his shoulder and pushes past her. Admittedly, he does feel a little guilty here. Regina’s a horrible person, but she’s still a person, right? Maybe she is worried about Janis, that there’s some sincerity beneath the make-up.

No. Of course not. And if Regina wanted his respect, she should have started back in middle school. And in any case, why is he even thinking about Regina? He’s got way bigger things to worry about today than her.

He checks his phone at lunch, finding nothing from Janis. Which is normal these days. Normal re-adjusted pretty quickly and she’s just finished another round right about now, so she’s probably resting from that. Besides, no news is good news, as his mom likes to say.

“Damian. Damian!”

“Woah, yeah, I’m here.” He shakes his head, grabbing the side of the table. He really needs to tune back in today. Cady is sitting beside him, her hand on his shoulder and her eyes big with concern.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am,” he says, patting her hand. “Just daydreaming, kid.”

“Okay.” Silence settles over them, tight and uncomfortable. It hurts. Janis’ absence hasn’t rocked their friendship at all, but at the same time it’s felt like there’s been something missing since the start of the year. And that there’s constantly something going unsaid with them. “When’s your audition?”

“T minus four hours,” he tells her. “They’re after school.”

“Speaking of I see you’ve broken out the two-litre bottle of water.”

“Are you kidding me?” he asks. “Honey, I am a professional.”

“A professional drama queen,” she teases. “You think you’re ready?”

“As I can be. My mom and sisters all gave me a standing ovation,” he says proudly. “And I think my cat liked it.”

“I mean that’s all the validation you need,” she says. “When you go into your first Broadway audition, all you need to tell them is how highly your cat recommends you.” They burst into laughter as Karen and a forlorn-looking Gretchen sit down next to them, Karen holding the other girl’s hand and looking helplessly at Cady and Damian.

“Hey, what’s up, Gretch?” Cady asks. Without a word, Gretchen slides a crumpled sheet of math questions over the table and lets out a huff. Despite trying not to look, Damian can’t help noticing the score at the top, and the “see me” written at the bottom. Cady’s face falls instantly as she takes in a sharp breath. “Well, it’s just the second week. And it’s one homework.”

“Oh, what’s the use,” Gretchen sighs. “I’m never going to get it. It’s all so complicated. I wish I had a brain like yours, Cady. You’re super great at math.”

“Well you’re good at stuff too,” Cady responds.

“Yeah,” Karen agrees. “Like you’re super good at English. And at picking out clothes.”

“I don’t think Ms Gardner will appreciate me picking out clothes,” she says glumly. “Besides, I need to get better at math this year. For one thing, my dad will totally kill me if I get another C.”

“Well… hey why don’t I tutor you?” Cady offers, changing Gretchen’s entire demeanour in an instant. She sits up and gasps, a smile breaking out across her face and lighting up the cafeteria.

“You would? Really?” she squeaks.

“Of course! I mean, I did all this stuff last year, so I know it well. What do you say?”

“Oh, thank you so much!” She reaches out the table and grabs Cady’s hand, and judging by Cady’s face, it’s stronger than you might think for Gretchen’s slight frame. “This makes me feel so much better.”

“What does?” Regina sits down beside her, looking from Cady to Gretchen and funnily enough, avoiding Damian entirely.

“Oh, Cady’s going to tutor me in math,” Gretchen explains.

“Oh, cool,” Regina says. “You know that’ll look great on a college application.”

“Yeah. I mean of course that’s not the only reason I’m doing it,” Cady replies, smiling at Gretchen. “But I know. All I’ve heard since we got back is ‘college applications’.”

“Me too,” Damian sighs. “And I am not looking forward to telling Miss Meyer I want to do theatre.” He rolls his eyes and mimics shooting his head.

“Oh, hey Damian, Cady?” Karen asks. “Can I ask you something.”

“Um… sure?”

“What kind of muffins does Janis like?” The four of them all fall quiet, Damian looking to a confused Cady before back at Karen, who seems to be the only one who sees the sense here.

“Muffins?” he echoes.

“Mm-hm. Well, I want to bake her muffins to cheer her up, and since you two are her besties, I thought you’d know,” she explains. “Trust me, there’s nothing worse than bringing someone the wrong muffins. One time my cousin brought my other cousin muffins that weren’t her favourite and I was so, so ashamed for her.”

“Oh, okay,” he says. Karen nods severely, apparently taking the muffins incredibly seriously. “Um… she really likes raspberries I guess. Oh, and white chocolate. That’s one of her favourite combos.”

“Perfect!” she chirps. “I’ll start shopping for those tomorrow. I told my mom about her and she said she might like something sweet.”

“That’s… really nice,” he says. Life with the former-Plastics is a surprise even after spending the summer with them. He isn’t sure how ‘former’ he’d consider them, especially Regina, but they’re softer than they were a year ago. Gretchen more caring, Karen more kind. Or maybe they were always like that and he simply didn’t notice.

As they get up to leave, he takes out his phone and checks it. Still nothing from her.

He walks Cady to her next class, the two of them being on the same floor.

“Should I wait for you until your audition’s done?” she asks him.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” he says, patting her on the back. “Go live your life, little one.”

“Okay, but…” She rests her head on his shoulder and warmth sparks in his fingers and a stupid grin crosses his face. “Would you like me to wait until after your audition? We can go to the donut place after?”

“Did Janis tell you to do that?” Grabbing donuts after auditions to unwind has been their tradition since middle school.

“Well, yeah,” she says, shrugging innocently. “Just thought it would be cool. It’s what you always do, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah of course, totally. That’d be awesome.” They stop outside her history classroom. “Okay, I will see you later.”

“I’ll be in the library,” she explains. “You can meet me there?”

“Awesome blossom.” They have a quick high-five before he sets off down the hall to American Literature. As he goes, he finds a small but fierce sense of anxiety sparking in his chest and he can’t work out what it’s for. Probably the audition. After all, no amount of experience can chase away the terror of this process. Waiting around, learning and re-learning lines, sitting by his computer waiting for an email and fighting through crowds to see the cast list. He puts up a confident face, but that will never stop shaking him.

He takes out his phone again, just to check the time and location again. There’s nothing from Janis again, which is fine. Completely.

“Damian Hubbard.” He halts and looks up at the face of his Literature teacher, Mr Bock. He’s not great, but he’s not awful either. Once upon a time he may have actually liked kids. “Is that phone meant to be out during school hours?”

“No, sir,” he replies, sliding it back into his pocket and hoping for the best.

“Well come on, you’re in my class next and I won’t have anyone being tardy.”

“No, sir,” he repeats, doubling his pace and making it into the classroom, looking up at the clock as he does so. Just three more hours to go.

*****

He spends the time waiting for his slot breathing and doing small vocal warm-ups, enough to get him ready but not enough to irritate anyone else. As well as consoling a fearful looking little freshman kid. There are few things in the world that warm his heart quite as much as seeing new faces in auditions and watching them bloom during the show. He always makes sure to build connections with each and every one of them, taking up the role he wished someone had done for him. By the time Damian’s name is called, the freshman is grinning and his hands are nearly steady and he even whispers ‘good luck’ before he goes in.

“Afternoon all,” he greets the panel; Miss Petersen, the director/oldest drama teacher, and the perky little new one, fresh out of teaching college and rearing to go, as well as the choreographer and head of the drama club. Three familiar faces and one new, all smiling back at him. Something he tells every freshman; they want to cast you. He hands the sheet music to the girl at the piano and takes his spot, always remembering to smile and compliment her.

“Hi Damian, how are you?” Petersen asks.

“I’m great,” he replies. He clears his throat slightly, not having realised how tight it was. Did he not warm up enough? “Ready to go.”

“Okay so what song have you picked for us today?” the new teacher asks. Miss Hadsell, someone said her name is. She’s cute, with wide dark eyes and blonde hair in a messy braid. He wonders if she also takes art, he hasn’t seen her around the art room.

Then he remembers he hasn’t been in the art room this year.

“I have picked Dressing Them Up from Kiss of the Spider Woman,” he says brightly, bringing himself back. Here and now, that’s what matters.

“Good choice,” Miss Petersen says. “And you’ll be reading for the part of the Emcee?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Okay.” She grins at him, although it doesn’t really do anything to bring his focus back. What is wrong with him today?

He takes two deep breaths, and then another, and quickly shakes out his hands before nodding to the pianist. Once the song starts, he’ll be fine. Lost in the music, laser focussed. And he is. After missing the first note. He’s never missed a note before. Still, he manages to pick up the rest of it and keep going, throwing everything into it.

But it doesn’t feel enough. Like something is holding him back. Every time he’s sang this song before it’s come as naturally as breathing, the movements coming from him, not a character or persona. Now nothing feels right. Like he’s on a string and someone else is moving his limbs and every gesture is artificial.

By the time he finishes, it’s almost a relief. And he’s never thought that about performing.

“That was great!” Miss Hadsell says. “You must love that song a lot.”

“It’s an old favourite of mine,” he agrees. He can still bring this back. Maybe it was better than he thought.

He reads through two scenes for them before he’s asked to leave. At least those are stronger, partially because he knows them like the back of his hand. He feels more himself in them, or rather he feels more like the character. Even if his mind’s still a little fuzzy, it clicks for him. If only it could have happened earlier.

Rather than running right to the library and Cady afterwards, he sinks down onto a bench in an empty corridor, wringing his hands together. He doesn’t remember ever feeling that nervous or having an audition like that. Not even when he was a kid. Being in drama clubs since he could walk chased away the strong jitters that could affect him like that. So what happened in there?”

You know a voice in his head whispers. He goes to wave it off, but he can’t quite do it. Because what if there’s some truth in it. He’s worried about Janis, he’s only human. But he has it under control. She’s getting what she needs and she’ll be back with him by Christmas, and they’ll move forward like nothing ever happened. He presses his fist into his palm and bites his cheek. He’s handling it, and his own issues have never affected his performances before. Why would they now?

There’s no point in worrying now, he tells himself. It’s over, so just go home, tell everyone it was fine and whatever happens, happens.

It’s with that mantra that he gets up and heads to the library to pick up Cady.

*****

The next day is Wednesday and when he wakes up he’s suddenly immensely excited and won’t pretend he doesn’t know why. As his mom likes to say, ‘Wednesday is halfway to the weekend’. Which is enough of a reason to be happy in itself, but this means something more. It means it’s two days until Janis gets out of hospital and three days until they hang out again. They arranged it a few days ago; a movie night in her place, just like always, with blankets and pillows and junk food and an equal balance of musicals and old sci-fi and horror. So he can’t not be excited, so much so that it’s enough for him to block out the memories of his audition yesterday.

So when he half-walks, half-dances into the kitchen, it’s justified, and what’s more, his mom picks up on it.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” she remarks.

“Sun’s shining, birds chirping,” he replies as he puts on the coffee pot and pops bread into the toaster.

“Did you talk to Janis at all last night?”

“A bit.” He pours himself a cup and one for his mom. All the milk in his and one sugar for him, black and two sugars for his mom.

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s fine,” he says. “You know her. Tough as hell, fighting anything.” His phone vibrates in his pocket and it brings an instant smile to his face. “As a matter of fact that’s her now… oh…”

Janis’ message is a picture of the medical student, Jackson, fiddling with her IV, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Below is the caption ‘forgot to send you this yesterday. Thought you might enjoy’. And a winking face, of all the emojis.

‘Appreciated, thank you,’ he texts back. ‘Though I am debating the ethical ramifications of this.’

He probably won’t get an answer for a while. She tends to sleep in in the mornings.

“Her poor mother,” his mom sighs, seemingly to herself. He looks up at her, her hands tight around the hug and her head shaking. “I mean, poor Janis as well of course. No one deserves to go through that. But if anything like that were to happen to you…” She runs a hand through his hair, a fond smile along with her sad features. “God knows what I’d do.” There’s a small moment, a sigh, and then she kisses his head.

“Mom, you’re so mushy,” he sighs, not meaning any of it. Mushy is a well-established Hubbard trait passed from mother to son and he’s not ashamed of it, not at all. It’s that exact mushy-ness that gives him the capacity to love his friends the way he does and let them feel it every chance he can. He’d never trade it for anything. “I have to get ready. Don’t want to be late. Love you!”

When he gets into homeroom, Cady is bent over her notebook with her pens out, which strikes him as odd. Surely the study bee Cady Heron isn’t catching up on homework already. He’s not even catching up on homework yet.

“Hey.” He pulls on her ponytail, a far more amusing way of getting her attention that tapping her shoulder. She grins and looks up at him, stretching out her arms. “What are you working on?”

“Trying to make a schedule for tutoring,” she explains, handing it over to him. The page is divided into seven days and those into hour long slots, and true to form, everything is colour-coded. School is green, Mathletes is blue, and so-called ‘Janis time’ is purple. Her name is written in silver glitter pen rather than black ballpoint, and there’s a little star doodled in the corner. It’s nothing short of adorable, and Cady’s cheeks go pink as he knowingly catches her eye. “Gretchen says she can’t do weekdays, so I might squeeze her in on Saturday mornings.” She takes the page and tilts it, scrunching up her face. “Wonder how many more I can fit in.”

“How much tutoring does she need exactly?” he asks.

“It’s not just Gretchen,” she says, shrugging. “I just thought, well, why not expand it. See who else needs tutoring? I could make some money off of it. And it looks great on-”

“The college applications,” he finishes, earning an eyeroll from her. Still, they both smile. “I think that’s a great idea little slice. As long as no-one’s faking stupid to score a date with you.”

“Oh hush,” she chides, swatting at him playfully. “Besides, no one would dare. Half our grade is kind of terrified of Janis.”

“We all know she could still kick their collective asses.”

“Even hopped up on chemo, she could.”

“Yeah, completely.” Something shifts inside him, and suddenly his smile feels more plastered on that natural. Keep it together, he tells himself. “So has anyone gotten back to you about tutoring?”

“I haven’t put the word out yet,” she says. “Although I did make this!” She reaches into her bag and hands another page to him, this time with a photo of her in the centre and “Tutoring Services-Math and Science, specialising in calculus” printed below it, and her phone number and email address in a different, cursive font below. And true to form, she decorated it with little ClipArt lions and tigers. “What?”

“Nothing.” He hands her it back. “It’s just very you. And if I needed help with math, I’d call you in an instant.”

“You flatter me,” she jokes, putting it back in her backpack and dropping it on the floor. It catches his eye and he doesn’t understand why it would for a second, but then he remembers. She bought this backpack the day they went to the mall. She picked the white one with the little frogs. Janis had laughed at it, affectionately calling her a ‘permanent child’. That was the day Janis had passed out. The day she had overslept. The day before she had gotten that doctor’s appointment. And all the while, none of them knew the truth. None of them had put the pieces together.

“Damian?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nods quickly. “Yes, you should definitely do that.” Across from him, Cady’s eyebrows are shot up, her mouth half open. He’s blown it. Whatever ‘it’ is.

“Okay,” she sighs. “Um… are you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay.” He leans back in his chair and tosses his head. “Look at me, I’m the King of Okay, baby girl.”

“I know a bad Doctor Who reference when I hear one,” she tells him. She taps her pencil on the desk. If she knows a Doctor Who reference, then he can recognise a tell. She’s building up to something. “Look, it’s okay if you’re not okay. I mean what’s going on right now with Janis… it’s rough. It’s okay if you’re a little out of it. I am too.”

“Well that’s fine, but I’m not.”

The words shock him as soon as they leave his mouth. He wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t said them at all, rather someone behind him, and he wishes that were the case. He’s not like that. Those words are sharp and he’s rarely ever sharp. He made himself a promise never to be sharp or cruel or nasty unless absolutely necessary. He’s put in so much work over the years building up his cheerful, warm persona and it took a while for it to become fully natural. Apparently, he still needs work, because Cady’s face is falling at his outburst and she’s turning around him her chair and his gut is twisting and churning with guilt.

“Caddy, wait.” He reaches out and grabs her shoulder. “I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that. It’s just-I’m so sorry, Caddy.”

“Hey.” Cady takes his hand and wraps her own around it, giving it a comforting squeeze. “It’s okay. Everything’s a lot right now.” Is it? Well, it is anyone can see that. But he’s coping, he’s sure of it. He woke up today so full of happiness he may have burst. How did he go from that to this in the space of an hour?

“Yeah,” he simply says. He runs his thumb over Cady’s knuckles, still shaken from what he said. He grips her hand tighter as if that can make sense of it. “I’m sorry.”

Despite Cady telling him it’s okay, a bad feeling follows him around all day, guilt combined with something else he can’t figure out. It leaves him feeling nauseous and uneasy all through his classes and even during lunch with his friends. It sits there all day, right in the pit of his stomach and wearing him out. By the time his first class after lunch starts, all he wants to do it go home. That very last bell is music to his ears and he barely remembers to bid goodbye to his friends before bolting out the door.

His hands are cold and unsteady as he pulls books out of his locker, his heart beating quickly and faintly beneath his shirt. He checks his phone, his messages empty, and makes a mental note to text Cady later before closing his locker and heading to the front gate. Hopefully by the time he gets home he’ll have come back to himself.

“Damian!”

Oh god, he thinks, suppressing a sigh. Ms Towers slips out in front of him, a file held close to her chest and her glasses perched on her head. She’s the school guidance counsellor, someone he’s never really interacted with. All of his issues were either fixed or in the process of that by the time he reached high school. She sure had her work cut out for her when the Burn Book was released though.

“Um, hi,” he says.

“Could I grab a quick word with you?” she asks.

No you cannot is what he wants to say. The school bell has gone, I’m free now.

“Sure,” is what he says instead, and his body follows her into her little office and even takes the seat she offers. It’s only when she sits down that he turns off autopilot. “Is this going to take long? Only I’ve got a lot of homework.”

“Not long at all,” she replies. She clears her throat, pretends to fix some papers on her desk, and leans forwards on the desk, her hands clasped beneath her. “Damian, what you’re going through is very difficult.”

“That’s indeed one word for it.”

“And the schoolboard is fully aware of any challenges you might be facing this year,” she goes on. “You probably know your teachers are all aware of the toll this may take on your schoolwork.” He hadn’t actually thought of that before. “But there are many support systems in place outside of the classroom. I want you to know that if you need any of them, we would be more than happy to schedule something for you. You could talk to me, or one of my colleagues on the care team, during one of your free periods maybe once or twice a week? Or if you want, our pastoral care team would be more than willing to talk to you in the school chapel-”

The image of Damian sitting in a church sitting on a pew talking to a priest about anything is so ludicrous to him that he actually bursts out laughing in her face.

He’s really being the resident asshole today, isn’t he?

“Sorry,” he replies, making a show of clearing his throat. “Something caught in my throat. You know how it is.”

“Oh, of course. I can get you some water if you like.” He shakes his head, taking his own bottle out of his bag, and gives her a gesture to keep talking. “Just if you want to avail of any of these services, they’re here. We’re all here for you Damian. So… do you think you might?”

“I appreciate the offer,” he says. His hand wraps tightly around his knee. “I really do. But I’m fine. I don’t need any school therapy or anything like that.”

“I don’t mean therapy,” she says. “Well, I could. But just if you needed a quick chat. This is a hugely stressful situation.”

“I know,” he snaps. He takes a deep breath in. He feels as though his insides are shaking, like a town caught in an earthquake. “I know. But I’m fine. I’m coping. And I have my own people anyway. I’ve got my friends; I’ve got my mom.” He stands on sore and unsteady legs and puts his bag on his back. “Besides, everything’s fine. Janis is coming home this weekend and we’re going to have a movie night and it will be exactly like it always has been. So we’re all good here.”

He lets her nod before bolting out the door. He doesn’t let anyone slow him down this time as he runs outside, down the front path and out the school gates, only starting to slow down when he’s off that street.

All the while, he doesn’t let himself think about Ms Towers’ offer, because doesn’t need it. He’s good. He’ll make himself good if he has to. He’s had enough practice at that after all.

*****

Saturday night takes forever to come around. The clocks on the wall tick by too slowly no matter where he is. Janis must get home late on Friday, because at some time after nine she posts a video of her dog cuddling her on her bed with the caption ‘I missed this boosh so much’. While Maxie takes up half the screen, he can see the smile in her cheeks. She looks good, healthy, happy, and that’s the main thing.

But finally the time comes, and he’s standing on her doorstep with a rucksack full of treats, DVDs, and the sleepover essentials. Butterflies flutter in his stomach, something he hasn’t felt since the early teens, and he has to hold back his arm lest he press the doorbell again.

“Hubbard!”

“Sarkisian!”

The moment he’s in her house, he envelopes her in a hug, letting her head rest in his shoulder and his hand rubbing up and down her back. His knees buckle in relief once she’s back with him, back hugging him. Sure he’s seen her before back in the hospital, but that was too alien. This is home. This is real.

“Missed you, dork,” she whispers.

“Missed you more,” he replies. When they finally let each other go, he sees her dressed down, blue and green galaxy leggings and a deep purple sweatshirt with a cartoon dinosaur on the front. Sleepover wear.

In the living room, Laura is setting up a bowl of popcorn and a try of tortilla chips, as well as a litre bottle of water and one of lemonade. She brightens up at the sight of him, hugging him lightly like you would a family member.

“Nice to see you, kid,” she tells him. “Hey how were the auditions? Janis told me they were this week.”

“Oh yeah,” he replies. It’s an effort not to wince. “They were fine. You know.”

“Well, we’ll be expecting front row tickets,” she tells him. “And a discount.”

“Sorry Laura no can do. Janis knows the importance of providing funds for the drama club.” Behind her mom, Janis nods as she fiddles with the DVD player.

“Oh, Janis, hon, let me do that.”

“It’s fine,” she replies, force behind the words. “I’ve got it. Besides you’re the one always asking me how to work it.”

“Fair enough,” she mutters. “Well, you two enjoy your night. I’m just down the hall if you need anything.”

“Cool. Thanks Mom.”

“Do you want me to take the dog out?”

“We can keep him. I think he’s missed Damian anyway.”

“And I’ve missed him,” Damian adds in. Maxie is pawing at Damian’s legs, his head rubbing against his legs and his tail wagging.

“Okay, just make sure you keep him calm. Otherwise he won’t let you sleep.”

“We’ll keep him calm,” Janis promises. “He’s a good boy.”

Laura mutters something to the contrary as she leaves, the door clicking shut behind her. Janis rolls her eyes at her.

“She’s so mean to the baby,” she says, patting the ground. “Come here Maxie-boy. Isn’t mama just the meanest and nastiest to the poor baby boy?”

“Should I leave you two alone?” he asks, only half-joking. Janis looks up from where she was making kissy faces at her dog and chuckles.

“I missed him,” she says. “Can you blame me? Imagine not letting your dog into the hospital with you.”

“It’s lunacy all right.” He kneels down beside her, opening up his rucksack. “Okay, I brought chocolate peanuts, I brought mini pretzels, I brought sour gummies. And to top it off, I brought your faves… crispy NemNems!” He holds up the box of M&Ms, wiggling them in her face. She bats them away, grinning.

“Perfection. Okay, what do we watch first?”

“You pick. That’s the rule after all, remember?” he reminds her. “Your house, your rules.”

“Okay. Then I pick…” She holds up the DVD to him; A Nightmare On Elm Street and wiggles her eyebrows. One of her favourites, which just so happens to be one of his least favourites. He’s not a horror fan. It’s one of the few disagreements they have.

“Deal. But I may have to hide behind your hair.”

They settle themselves on the couch, a pair of blankets resting on the heater behind them and Maxie plopped on top of them for extra warmth. His little head is on Janis’ lap, demanding pets, and she is only too happy to oblige. He snuggles further into her with his paws up on his legs and whimpering whenever she so much as shifts.

“Someone missed you.”

“Yeah he did,” she replies, her voice fond. “You know when I came into the kitchen last night he peed himself because he was so excited.” She leans down to the dog and starts speaking in what they call her ‘Maxie-voice’. “Didn’t you to a peepee on the floor and Daddy had to mop it up?”

“Awww. Also ewww.” Janis digs him the ribs even as she laughs. Maxie is oblivious to this, his ears pricking up as he looks between the two of them. Damian cracks open the snacks, already commandeering the tortilla chips (what can he say, he’s a carb lover) and placing the rest of them delicately between them before opening the M&Ms and handing them to Janis.

“Oh, thanks…” She picks a few out of the bag while holding the dog down with the other hand, lest he eat something he shouldn’t.

When he looks back in the bag, it’s like no-one took anything. Sure enough, there’s probably only three or four in her hand right now. And they’re one of her favourite things in the world, ever. She’s hidden them under pillows at sleepovers before. Before he can stop, she notices him looking and gives him a shrug.

“I’m just not that hungry,” she explains, taking a sip of the water. “It’s fine.”

It’s fine. There you go. She said it’s fine, so it’s fine.

Despite that reassurance, and against his better judgement, he doesn’t stop taking peeks at her as the movie goes on. It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t like this movie. She picks at the food she would normally be fighting him for, eating a pretzel here and there and nothing else, only long, slow drinks of water. The hair on the back of his neck pricks up at it, his instincts once again kicking in.

Maybe instead of instincts, he thinks he might just be paranoid. Janis said that she hadn’t had much of an appetite recently. It’s just a side effect of the medicine. Nothing to be worried about, surely, especially with the way her eyes are wide and her grin is excited and bright, the way she jumps at scares she’s seen ten times over and ‘ooh’s at Freddy coming down the hall. She even calls him a ‘magnificent bastard’. Why should he focus on what she’s eating when she’s still her and is in good spirits? With that in mind, he turns his attention to the movie, properly this time, accompanied by Janis’ rantings and commentary.

When he does lose focus on Freddy Kruger again, it’s nothing to do with Janis or ‘instincts’, but rather nature calling, courtesy of a half-empty lemonade bottle on the floor. He stretches his stiff legs and turns to let her know, probably having to tap her to pull her out of the movie… only to find her curled in on herself, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. Her hand rests limply on Maxie and her chest rises and falls slowly. How long has she been like that, he wonders.

“Janis?” he whispers. Nothing. “Janis.” She doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch. That’s her for the night.

She looks younger in sleep, especially without make-up. And a lot less tough. It’s easier to see her as the little girl he met crying in a bathroom all those years ago. But she was tough even then, and she’s even stronger now. He rises slowly, careful not to wake her. Maxie is still awake, but antsy at sitting down for too long.

“Come here, kid,” he says quietly to him. He lifts Janis’ hand a little and coaxes him off her, patting his knees until he reluctantly climbs down. He settles beside her instead, sitting beside the couch like a little guard dog. “Good boy.” Next he takes the blanket from the heater and throws it over her, making sure to tuck it over her shoulders. That’s what moves her, and for a second he panics, but she only murmurs something and burrows into it. His heart swells in that moment, and he presses a swift kiss to her head.

“Good night, kid,” he whispers, even if it’s still light outside.

He doesn’t go home after that. He sticks around all night, despite Janis’ mother asking if he wants to go home. Neither one of her parents are surprised she fell asleep, telling him she’s tired a lot in the hospital. Her dad heaves a sigh before telling him that’s how they know it’s working. Damian nods, unsure of what else to say, and heads back to the living room. The idea of leaving her alone in there unsettles him for whatever reason.

He slides Cabaret into the DVD player, the volume at 2 and the subtitles on. At least if Janis does wake up, it’ll be to something she likes. For now he bounces between watching the movie and watching her until he gives up entirely. He changes spreads himself on the couch next to him, the light from his phone the only light on in the room. As he does start to doze off, a mere four hours after Janis, he starts thinking about what her dad said. If this is how they know everything’s working, then he can take it. Because it means she’ll be okay at the end.

#mean girls fanfic #mean girls broadway #mean girls the musical #damian hubbard #janis sarkisian #cadnis #cadnis ff #mean girls ff #despite that cadnis is barely in this chapter ....#fic: heart of stone #look its a damian pov!

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effervescently-alice · 5 years

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Prompt suggestions -Alice and Jasper have a talk about Maria -Jalice during their two years as nomads -Jasper and Alice searching for the hybrid in Breaking dawn. -overprotective fool scenarios. -taking a ride on the Ducati/in the Porsche

Alice has a vision of the waitress cutting her finger, and being devoured by Jasper, the man from her visions who was now sitting across from her. Alice knows she has to stop Jasper from noticing the scent of human blood, or they'll have to kill everyone in the diner, and clean it all up to hide the evidence. She wasn't opposed, but it certainly wasn't her ideal first date.

"I dont think you told me where you're from. I like your accent."Alice mentions, distractingly"I was born in Texas.""So then what brings you to Philadelphia?""Just getting out of the rain, I suppose.""They don't have diners in Texas?"Really, that's all you could come up with? "I thought the visions told you everything you needed to know.""They do. Mostly. Which is how I know that we should continue this conversation somewhere else."She suggests, grabbing his hand.He takes hers, and the two newly united soulmates left their meeting place, and headed towards the woods.

"Why do you want to keep your past a secret so desperately?" Alice inquiries"My past isn't pretty, Ms. Alice, I wouldn't want to scare you off." "I woke up under an overpass in a hospital gown and an identification bracelet with no memory of what had happened leading to that moment. You can't scare me." What have I gotten myself into? Maybe I'm the one who should be afraid."

He jokes.

"Fine, I was a major in the confederate army. I got turned by a woman who was creating an army of new vampires. I stayed with her and trained them, until I decided to leave."Alice nods, although she doesn't fully have a grasp on what he was, or even the war he fought in."Whyd you leave?""I couldn't stand killing the underperforming soilders. They didn't deserve it, and I could feel every bit of fear and angusish they felt. I couldn't take it anymore.""So she wasn't a kind woman?" "No where near it." "Did she love you?" "I thought she did." "What was her name?""This 20 questions games feels a bit one sided. Lets talk about you.""I woke up alone under an overpass,"Alice repeats"I've been the same way ever since, until earlier today, when I met you."She pauses trying to remember any details, and as usual, she can't. "There, Ive told you everything I know about myself. You'll be by my side for the rest of my story, so I don't think I need to tell it."She looks up at him with a smirk "Oh look at that looks like it's your turn again." Jasper sighs, defeated. "Maria." "If she was so awful, why was she okay with you leaving?""She wasn't. Snuck out in the night with a few other newborns." "You thought she loved you. Do you think she'll try and find you?" "Maybe.""Is she dangerous?""Her not so much. Her army, could be.""Can we take them?" "Let's hope we won't have to.""But if we do?""You worry a lot for someone who can see the future. ""I just don't want to lose you.""I've know you for 10 minutes. I know vampires work different and all but-""Vampires do work different, especially when one is physic. I've known you for years.” She inturupts."We'll have pleanty of time to catch up." She assures."After you teach me how to defend myself.""What?""You said you trained vampires before. Maria won't be able to hurt us if I can fight." "Maria isn't going to track us down. She's likely got better things to do, besides I'll keep us both safe." "Two is better than one." "If we get into a conflict with others of our kind, I don't you anywhere near it.""Can't always get what you want, Jazz, I'll be right by you the whole time. The outcome will be better if I know what I'm doing, wouldn't you think?""No." "Come on Jasper, it's 1948, women aren't just trophies any-"A vision stops her in her tracks."I hope you're a fast teacher, we're going to have some company."Jasper stumbles over words trying to decide which question was more important to ask. "No time." Alice responds as the other Vampires approach. "Don't let them get their arms around you." Jasper demands, in a hushed tone. "What business do you have here?" The first demands. She towers over Alice, but who doesn't? Her eyes are peircing red, and the scent of human blood lingers around her. "Just passing through, we'll be going now."Jasper ensures. "I don't think so." The second teases, leaning to block their path. She's taller than Jasper, maybe the tallest woman Alice has ever seen. Her hair is buzzed off. Alice wonders if she knows her hair won't grow back."We don't want any trouble."Jasper promises, taking Alice's hand"Oh, neither do we, but, you're in our territory. " lies the first"We already said we'd leave just let us!" Alice exclaims."Alice..."Jasper growls in warning "Your Friend is right, dear Alice. The grown ups are speaking. Why don't you go play somewhere else?" A growl escapes from Alice She's definitely getting killed."Hey, we're all red eyed here, obviously no one is residing here, just let us leave in peace. It'll be like we never met."Jasper continues to try and persuade them to no avail. They want a fight, and they'll get one too."How about we get this over with?" The second Woman suggests.She lunges at Alice, who retreats into the branches of a high tree. "Leave her alone!" Jasper exlaims, tackling the larger womanEverything is going according to plan, for the other vampires, anyway. The smaller woman grabs Jasper from behind and drags him away from the other Woman. She's got her arms around him. Alice doesn't know much about fighting vampires, but thats the one thing she knows isn't good. She leaps from the branch and lands on Jasper's attackers shoulders. "Jasper, what do I do?" Alice asks desperately "Rip her apart!" He gasps in reply.She holds the breath she didn't need, and rips the womans head from the rest of her, her body falls along with Alice who lands on her feet. "Are you okay?" Alice asks"We've still got bigger problems." He dismisses, and stalks toward the other woman.She dissapears before they can confront her."Are we safe?"Asks Jasper. Alice pauses to check any visions, but is inturupted by footsteps behind her. "Nevermind. Alice, get out of here, she must've changed her mind. I'll handle her.""Yeah because that went well last time." She says bitterly. "We're in this together jazz." She reminds him. The other vampire grabs Alice by the wrist, she throws a leg in the air, kicking the woman, and freeing herself. Jasper grips the womans arm and yanks it away from her body, throwing it on the pile with the peices of her mate. The newly armless vampire whips around and places a bite firmly on Jaspers shoulder before he can react. Alice lunges at her and gets her to the ground, she holds her down with a boot across her neck. She applies all the pressure she can manage and detaches her head. Alice and Jasper glance at eachother, the silence deafening."Overprotective fool." She scolds, walking over to him. "I had it under control." She continues and takes his hand."Are you hurt?" She asks"Nothing time won't heal." Jasper ensures."For now, pile up the peices, I've got a lighter.""Whats that for?" Alice asks, grabbing a detached arm"The only way to kill our kind is to tear us apart and burn the pieces." He explains."That's sick." "Yeah, but at least we wont be cold tonight." Jasper jokesAlice lets out a chuckle and throws a torso onto the ever growing pile of body parts"I guess that's true. I see a bonfire in our future. Do we have any marshmellows?"Jasper briefly checks his bag, and tosses a lighter to Alice. "Nope. I'm fresh out."He jokes."We should go, we don't want to be too close to any evidence."Alice stops to glance at him."What if the fire spreads. Don't you have any concern for the wildlife?"Jasper applies venom to the newest bite of his ever growing collection."I barely have concern for humans. What do I care about an animal?" "For an empath, you don't have a lot of it." Alice notes."For someone who can't recall being human, you sure have quite alot of it." He responds. "Why be mean when you can be kind?"She questions, arranging rocks around their pile of bodies, and setting them ablaze "You realize how ironic that is, right?""How what?""Ironic?" "Yes. What's that?" "It's like, funny, but not in a laughter kind of way." "How am I funny?" "You're speaking of kindness as you set the remains of the people we just killed on fire." "I guess that is a bit funny. We didn't have another choice though. I checked."

For months the two of them traveled the country together, doing their best to stay out of trouble. They traveled from state to state leaping through the trees, and racing eachother to the forest's edge, teaching eachother everything they knew along the way, including how to feed off of animals.Alice had told Jasper of a vision involving them joining a coven, but as he watched her dance among the branches and look back at him with the light of a thousand stars in her eyes, he had to wonder, was joining a coven who survived soley off of animals, so they could pretend to be humans would be worth giving all of this up?He couldn't imagine so, but he couldn't help but to blindly follow Alice in whatever adventure she wanted to embark on next. Even if it meant loosing everything being a vampire stood for.Things were perfect for nearly the entire time. The only fight they ever had was when Alice attended public school alongside her adopted siblings for the first time. Halfway through the year the class had discussed the civil war, unearthing what Jasper once was that she hadn't previously had the education to understand. From then on, it was smooth sailing. Until Bella came around, that is. Alice loved Bella, no matter if she was human or not. Jasper? Not so much. But when Alice Cullen wants something, she's going to get it.Alice and Jasper fought with their family, and survived battle after battle, but, this one was going to be different than anything any of them had ever experienced. Bella was a mother now, and the Voulturi weren't too fond of that. "Jasper we need to go." Alice demands in a hushed whisper. "We can't just abandon our family when they need us most, Alice!"He argues."If there was a snowflake's chance in hell that we could stay and everyone would be fine, do you think I'd still be leaving?" She snaps, adding clothing to a backpack"We stay and the only survivors are Edward and I." She continues softly"If you can see the battle you can tell them what to avoid." "No, Jasper, the only reason we survive is because the volturi takes us hostage to join the gaurd. They've always wanted us for our powers. Our only hope is to find another like Renesme." "Another? There's more of her?" "Yes, well, maybe. He's in my visions, he must be important." "Alice, please, this is insane. We need to be with our family. We can't abandon them to follow a rediculous vision." Alice is taken aback, her patience with him being replaced by anger."My visions are not rediculous! If you're not coming along, fine, I can't make you, but I'm going to do everything I can to save our family weather you like it or not." She throws her bag over her shoulder and raises the window"So much for forever." She adds with a glare in his direction. "Alice, I didn't mean- fine, fine."He surrenders."Are you sure you're not an empath? I'm coming, but shouldn't we at least tell them?" "Don't worry about it.""This is completely unfair to our family."Jasper stumbles over discarded clothing that has over taken their room, trying to find his own"It is," She agrees "But something tells me they'll forgive us when they're not dead. They can't stay mad at me. Now, hurry up, before they catch on. We don't have a lot of time." Alice jumps from the window, and takes off. She leaves her apologies, instructions and cryptic hints, and finds her way back to wait on Jasper in her porsche. "You're taking the porsche?" Jasper criticizes, dropping from a tree branch"You're not very good at being inconspicuous, are you?""It's simply not in my nature, besides, would you rather have taken the bike?"She challenges. "Yes."He admits."You're just as bad as me." She laughs in response. He hadn't heard that in a while. "I could go back for it." He suggests. "Jasper, this is life or death!" She reminds him harshly, snapping back to their current conflict."I'll be quick. What if we end up somewhere the porsche can't get?" "We'd just run! We were nomadic for years!" She reminds him, hastily."You still owe me a ride together."He taunts smugly."Maybe when we aren't in immediate danger, Jasper." Jasper decides its better to drop it. He joins Alice, who floors it nearly immediately. Their first stop is to find their old friends Peter and Charolette, they're mostly nomadic these says as missing people cases are activley worked on in this day and age. Then they'll head off to wherever corner of the world this hybrid was. Hopefully the visions would tell Alice soon. Jasper takes Alice's hand, sending calming waves, but still startling her out of her vision watching."Would you like me to drive so you can focus on your visions?"He asks after hours of silence. She considers his offer, but decides against it.

They finally arrive to where Alice's visions told her they'd be. A department store in Texas. They approach the two nomads from behind as they're examining a display cabinet of jewelry. Nothing wrong with that picture at all. The cashier seems to notice the same thing as she stalks over to confront them.

"Peter, Charolette! It's great to see you too again!" Alice calls, throwing an arm around Charolette. "Excuse me" Inturupts the cashier "Do you know these two?" She questions harshly.Alice lays her keys down on the counter, casually, but with the porsche logo in obvious sight as she leans over the counter to the cashier."They're old friends. They haven't been causing any issues have they?"She asks innocently "Yes they ha!-""What's the damage? I'll take care of it." Alice inturupts. "Don't give her anything, Alice! We didn't do shit this time!"Charolette defends"Hand me your bag." Alice requests."Alright fine, give her the money." Peter responds in defeat.Alice slides the cashier a stack of bills."Sorry about them. You can keep whatevers extra." The four head out of the store before Peter and Charolette can find themselves in any more trouble."So, what's the occasion? Or did you just see that we were gonna need some help?" Charolette asks."We need your help." Alice admits."Edward got a human pregnant. We didn't know it was possible, but now we have a vampire-human hybrid on our hands.""I don't do kids, Ali." "No, no, someone reported us to the volturi for having an immortal child. They're coming to kill her, and likley us too. We need people to convince them that she isn't dangerous." "We're in." Peter decides for the two of them. "Great. We have some unfinished business that I can't go into detail about because mind readers are involved, but we'll be back for the fight." Alice promises."You guys have got to get cell phones." Jasper kids, shoving peter playfully. "Yeah whatever, we'll see you there." He replies, shoving him back.

Alice and Jasper return to the porsche. "I'm driving."Jasper announces. "So you can keep an eye on our hybrid." "No, it's fine, I can barley see him anyway. It'll be just as much of a needle in a hay stack no matter who drives.""Good, then it won't make a difference if I drive?""That's not what I meant." Alice complains, settling into the passenger seat. Jasper takes her hand and places a light kiss on the top of it. "Relax, Alice. Whatever happens happens, okay?" "I'm not used to not knowing what comes next." "Really? I would have never guessed." he says with a laugh as he starts the car.The next hours are spent greatly exceeding any speed limit sign they passed on what seemed to be a never ending interstate. "I got something!" Alice exclaims with glee. "What is it?" "We're in an airport, the ticket says, well, I can't see the exact location." She admits."But somewhere in south America!""At least we've narrowed it down to a continent." Jasper encourages. His foot becomes heavier on the gas, pushing the little car to it's limits. They eventually take their exit, and get to their destination airport. They travel to a secluded south American village, and find exactly who they're looking for. He reluctantly agrees to travel back with them, mostly because we wants to meet another person like himself. He'd never been in an airplane before. Alice and Jasper found it to be amusing watching an indistructable vampire worry about the logistics of an airplane. Jasper helped to calm him down, he may have overdone it a bit as he slept for the remainder of the multi hour flight."Jasper?" Alice asks softly"What is it darlin' ?" He asks touching her hand."The cullens. Do you think they'll still let us be part of their family when we come back?" "Alice, I'm sure they will. They love us.You'd be the one to know, wouldn't you?" Jasper says reassuringly, squeezing her hand."Renesme and the wolves are blocking a lot of my sight. I can't see them since they're all in contact with eachother. " She explains."I'm just worried that leaving may have turned them against us, but it was our only hope.""How about we worry about it after the fight?" "I can't just put off worrying about whether or not we still have a family, Jazz.""You'll always have a family with me. Even if its just you and me." Jasper promises. She rests her head on his shoulder, looking up at him."Thanks." She says quitely.The plane lands, and it's a race against time back to forks. Alice drives home at the car's full potential the whole way back, and contemplated for a moment if they'd do better running. If we didn't have the hybrid, maybe. She decides. He'd probably prefer it though, the porsche didn't have much of a back seat.They make it back to the Cullen's house with no time to spare. The rest of their family and all their friends are already in the clearning. "Let's go!"Jasper demands taking to the trees. "He won't be able to keep up, Jazz, I need to be at the clearing as soon as possible. You'll have to bring him with you while I go ahead." She instructs. "I've got it covered." Jasper says with a smirk. "Hey kid," He says turning to the hybrid"Ever ridden a motorcycle before?""A what?" "Just hang on, kid." Jasper encourages, taking off at vampire speed to the garage. He mounts and starts his ducati, and takes it back out to the hybrid"Come on, let's go." As soon as he was on, the two went as fast as the bike would take them. Eventually they even managed to catch up with Alice. She made her way through the branches and stopped at the edge, awaiting Jasper. "Now or never." Jasper encourages. The three walk out onto the potential battlefield, the hybrid stays behind with the other vampires."Alice!" Aro exclaims. Not this creep.A member of the gaurd separates Alice and Jasper from Aro, but with some convincing, she's able to show him her vision. You've only got to live through this vision 2 more times, maximum, Alice. She lies to herself, watching members of your family die in front of you is hard to forget, and she knows it'll always be in the back of her mind.Luckily for everyone, aro decides retreating is the best option.The volturi leaves, and everyone gets to live another day. Except Irina, of course. Alice feels terrible for thinking so, but she decides it's a trade she was more than willing to make. Her family embraces their return just as Jasper said they would. A couple of their visitors had found new mates through their visit.Prehaps things would be okay for a while.

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queencatherynerhys · 6 years

Text

Taken - Part 9 TRR AU

A/N: The hiatus is over!! Shout-out to @captainkingliam, @mfackenthal for coaxing me out of my writer’s block and giving me so much ideas for this chapter and for the unceasing desire to help me with my stories. I was really afraid that I was getting lost in the hole that I dug with this series and that all the twists have gotten so complicated with I was able to brainstorm with them about where to take this series. I would watch these videos to get the gist of the ending of this chapter. I kind of ran out of steam with the fights.

Movie Inspiration: Pacific Rim – A Worthy Opponent Scene

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E7i4pNsqnls

The Karate Kid – Six Vs. One Scene (specifically 1:54-1:56)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E-wr7dD1n5w

Summary: Is Catheryne going to be all right? Or will she succumb to her situation? How will Liam and the gang deal with all the events that have transpired?

Tag List: @captainkingliam @decisso @devineinterventions2 @madaraism @theroyalweisme @drakewalkerwhipped @laniquelove @drakesfiance @hhiggs @hellospunkiebrewster @alicars @mrswalkerreynolds @mfackenthal @hopefulmoonobject @blackcatkita @cocomaxley @boneandfur @lizeboredom @crayziimaginations @umccall71 @zarina-x-zig @trianiasti @ranishajay @heatherfilliez @flyawayblue56 @simplyaiden-blog

Previous Parts:

Masterlist (too many parts to do them individually)

Nothing but a flat line shows on the monitor. Commotion is around the room with Dr. Flint and three nurses rushing about attending to Catheryne’s shuddering figure. Abstruse words spew out of Dr. Flint’s mouth and Liam is too deep in his worry to try to understand. “Attach an oxygen bag. We need to start CPR. Stat!” A flustered nurse hurries to attach an oral airway device down her throat and an oxygen bag valve mask on the other end.

As she does this, Dr. Flint pulls up the sleeve of her white lab coat and prepare to conduct the resuscitation. Liam observes, frozen in dread and bleakness. Drake stands beside him, silently offering support but also with the same rigid body language.

The doctor gives Ryne a set of 30 compressions to the chest. “Come on, Your Grace, come back,” she pants through gritted teeth as she strains with the physical activity and pressure of her job. The high-pitched noise still audible. Liam losing hope by the second. Please, my love, please continue to fight. Fight for me. For us. I know I am asking a lot of you, but I will die if you leave me.

Another set of compressions are met with the same results. Dr. Flint and the nurse across from her glance at each other, silently communicating the inevitable outcome. She performs two more sets of compressions, pouring her last strength to revive her. By now, four minutes have passed. The nurse she mentally communicated with earlier raises his wrist, readying his watch to pronounce her time of death.

“TBD 8:07pm,” she declares gravely as she turns to meet the king’s gaze. “I am truly sorry, Your Majesty. I’m afraid we can’t do anything more for her.” Liam loses all control of his faculties and anger flows through him. “NO! No, you must bring her back. Keep doing CPR!” He grabs one of the nurses by his scrubs and yells at him and begging him to bring her back to him. Drake rushes to him, always being the reasoned one when Liam becomes clouded by his emotions.

He struggles in his best friend’s arms, but desperation wins. He runs beside Catheryne’s lifeless body on the bed. “NO! Don’t you dare take her off that machine! She’s not gone! I’m not letting her be taken from me again. I am not letting her leave me!” He hollers at the nurses who are starting to unhook her from the apparatuses. They look at Dr. Flint and she hesitantly nods, giving the tiny ember of hope he clings on to a chance to spark life. Maybe a miracle will show itself.

Liam cradles Catheryne’s still face. If it were a regular day, she looks just as if she’s sleeping but it isn’t one of those days. Here, it’s up to him to bring her back. He weeps, not caring for the audience he has. He can’t, he doesn’t have the strength to summon his kingly side. In this moment, he just wants to be Liam, a Liam that can mourn and be vulnerable with no judgment. As he holds her, he remembers the recurring nightmares he suffered during their time apart. He recalls the terrible visions of seeing her die in front of him by the hands of his enemies, the blood that surrounds him, the sudden cold temperature of Ryne’s body under his touch, and his desperate screams of distress as he begs her to come back.

His nightmares finally catch him. He never thought the day would come that he would have to truly live it, but here he is. There isn’t blood, but everything else is there. His own cries sound foreign to him, “Catheryne, listen to me. I am begging you. I will do whatever I need to do. Just come back to me, please! If there is a God out there, please, bring her back. Bring her back!” He rocks her unresponsive body as he trembles from his frantic sobs of pain and utter loss.

A lifetime passes in the span of two minutes. Nurses and the doctor clear out after she informs Liam that it’s crucial that they disconnect her from her tubes. Her IV and adrenaline tube are taken off as well as other multiple conduits are removed. He refuses to let her go out of his hold as they work around him to attend to her.

His peripheral vision catches the sight of Maxwell and Hana’s tear-stricken faces by where Drake stands at the window. He must’ve called him during all the disorder. He knows he should give a turn to say their goodbye, but he is not ready. He doesn’t know if he can really let go of her, physically and emotionally.

Not once in his life has he been this broken. My enemies are dead, but it doesn’t matter. We only won a battle. Even through the grave, they managed to win the war. The last piece of himself he had kept intact for the moment he and Catheryne are finally reunited again after her coma shatters and he physically feel the effects of it. His body slumps forward and wraps his arm around her and rests against her motionless form.

He whispers ever so quietly, “You guys, if you could, I would love a few minutes with her alone. I just want to say a proper, private goodbye.” He hears them shuffle out of the room and the door click. He pulls away slowly and stands up beside her bed to finally truly get a look of her. She is truly beautiful, even in her current…condition. He takes one of her perfect hand and wraps it in his own, bringing it to his lips.

“I remember the first time I saw your face in that bar, Catheryne. I remember the light you emitted. Oh, the joy you had in you. You were such a free spirit. I had only spent an hour with you, but I knew in that moment of time that you were an astonishing woman. Oh, my lovely Ryne, how I beg to change back those events. I would change it, so you don’t come to Cordonia. We don’t fall in love, but at least you’d be alive. Safe and alive. Happy. I am so in love with you, my beautiful perfect Ryne. The only thing I wanted to do was spend the rest of my life giving you the world, but it looks like I just took you from it. I am so sorry, Catheryne. I am so sorry that even now I am begging you to come back and keep fighting even if I know that’s the harder and more painful choice.” He falls to his knees and touches his cheek with the back of her hand, still holding it.

“I’ve been bred to be a selfless leader, but right now I want to be selfish. I am a selfish man, begging you to come back, but if you can hear me now or if anything or anyone at all in the whole universe can hear me, I am pleading with you…please…please…” he whispers as fresh tears roll out of his eyes to her hand. He squeezes it as he clings to hope for life itself.

What follows comes to him as complete shock when he feels her hand imperceptibly squeeze his back. If he wasn’t concentrating, he is sure he would have missed the feather-light touch, but he is confident of the definite gesture. He slowly looks up and smiles the widest of smiles when he sees her big, brown eyes again. Open and alive. Miracles do happen.

“Oh, my god, Catheryne!” he wraps her in his arms tightly, not worrying if he attacks her again. His happiness overweighs the subconscious threats of his presence around her. She just died and with the current situation he’d be a fool if he lets anything get in the way of showing his joy and relief of having her back.

He wraps her in his arms and cries tears of joy as he hears and feels her grumble underneath him. “Ugh…L-Liam…I…I can’t…breathe…” she struggles to voice out as he clings to her. The deities heard his pleas and granted his desire. He pulls away to see her face, life and color filling it again.

“Oh, my love, I thought I’d lost you,” he says by her ear. His shattered world feels almost complete again as he feels her chest rise and fall underneath his touch. He never wants to let her go but he knows he should or else he endangers hurting her. Slowly, he tugs himself away from her and reluctantly looks into her eyes, hoping he sees his Catheryne in them.

When he does, he loses all control and cries. Right now, it’s just Liam and Catheryne and no one else. In this small hospital room, it’s just them. He buries his face in her hands and kisses it. “Oh, Ryne, I love you.” He sobs, letting all the pain and burden he’s been carrying all this time as king and as just Liam.

Quietness pass between them for several minutes until finally Catheryne speaks up, “I hate to break the moment, Liam, but you’re breaking my stitches.” Liam looks down and see a bloody bandage on her arm, instantly he feels a pang of guilt for squeezing her so hard. “Oh, I am so sorry, my love.”

Liam rushes out of the tiny room to fetch Dr. Flint and inform his friends of the news. “She’s awake. She’s alive!” He breathes hard as if that action exasperated him. Drake, Maxwell and Hana all glance at him as if he is hallucinating. They didn’t believe him. He briskly walks back to her room with his friends and Dr. Flint in tow.

When they see her awake, they all start to rush around her bedside, but the doctor stops them, “Everyone let’s give the duchess some breathing room. She just came back from the dead. Let the professionals do their work before you do anything.” She walks beside Ryne and greets her, “Hello, Your Grace. It’s good to see you up. I must say I already knew you were a fighter, but to come back like this is truly a testament to you. Now if you can look and follow my finger while I check your vitals.” She flashes a light at Catheryne’s pupils, and she responds by squinting.

Dr. Flint reattaches her to the IV tube and heart monitor. “Looks like you reopened one of your stitches. I’ll bandage that up for you straightaway.” She grabs some materials in the cabinet and her friends stand beside her.

“You scared me to death, little blossom. You’re not allowed to do that again, okay. You’re not allowed to die again until a very, very long time from now,” Maxwell complains.

“I am so relieved to see you awake, Catheryne. How are you feeling?” Hana inquires with concern in her voice.

“That was one hell of a feat to come back from the dead, Knightely. You make my gunshot wound look obsolete,” Drake gruffly says.

She looks at her friends and faintly smiles. She is tired, and she doesn’t reply to any of their comments. She just offers a warm smile and apologetic eyes. She feels different from all of them. Now that her past has been brought to the light she cannot escape it. She sees it behind the eyes of all four of them – the fear they have of her. Will anything ever be the same again?

Dr. Flint ordered that she stay in the hospital for one more week after being woken up before releasing her. All of her wounds have almost healed. Scars left in their wake. Her back is full of diagonal, jagged scars from the whips and flogging. A big knife scar sits right above her chest where her heart is. She hates mirrors now. She hates looking at the imperfections that cover her. She doesn’t recognize herself anymore.

Her hair is disheveled; she didn’t have the energy to fix it. Hana would come into her room everyday after she showers and fixes her hair in a French braid while Maxwell and her talk about their day and sometimes noble gossip that she tunes out.

Drake comes in after them and tries to get her to talk about anything, but most of the time they just sit by the window in quiet. The only thing missing is their mutual friend, whiskey. The hospital wouldn’t let him carry liquor. He leaves right after they watch the sun set together. He always tells her that he’ll be back the next day. Sometimes, he’ll try to talk about Liam, but she tunes that out too.

During the week, he’s only been by once to visit her. She doesn’t know if she was grateful. She didn’t really know how to pick up their relationship after this. She was informed of her episode and what she did to Liam. The guilt that she feels eats her alive slowly inside and she doesn’t know how to cope with that.

When he came by to see her, it wasn’t for personal reasons. He was there as King Liam not her fiancé. He came to see one of his subjects is feeling ok and to inform her that her duchy is finally ready, but since she’s still recovering she is ordered to stay at the palace. It was a brief, cold, devoid of emotion meeting.

After he delivered his message, he left without a goodbye or any sign of affection. Again, she doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not. Would he ever be able to look at her the same again? Would they ever be the same? Could he see her as the Catheryne he fell in love with? Or will she always be Catheryne the spy? Catheryne the heartless, cold killer? The woman that has the drive to kill him.

When her discharge day came around, Dr. Flint comes to her room to do one last vital check before releasing her. The stitches on her arm were removed before she left. “Now, Your Grace, I am prescribing you one hour of exercise every day. When we put you into an induced coma, it weakened your body and internal system. So, good exercise and good diet for three months. Then, you come back for a check-up. I’ve already talked to all your friends, and they will help you through this process. Just remember, be patient with yourself.”

She hands her a folder of papers and bid her farewell. The travel to the palace was quiet. She feels alienated and a bit nauseous from the fresh air, having been in a sterile, secluded hospital for three months. When they arrive at the gates, reporters and photographers swarm the gates. Thankfully, the guards were instructed to bring the limo to the back, so she doesn’t have to deal with them.

Events pass in a blur. She is ushered to her room with an excessive amount of guards surrounding her. Don’t they know she can protect herself? She figures this is Liam’s doing. His overprotectiveness always shining through, but she finds it annoying. She doesn’t need all this protection and if she chooses to she can disarm all 5 guards very fast.

Her stay at the palace becomes monotonous and boring. Everything feels routine. She gets woken by Maxwell who drags her to breakfast with Bertrand, Hana, Drake, Savannah and Bartie. After, Hana walks with her to the lake she showed her when they returned to Cordonia. Sometimes, when she’s not available Drake or Maxwell will walk with her around the palace grounds, always staying in the back away from the demanding eyes of the press.

In the afternoon, they dine together and sometimes they gather in her room and turn on a movie flick. But tonight, she just didn’t have the energy to accommodate them. She hasn’t been alone since she’s been released, and she is craving that time, so she politely asked them to leave her alone for the afternoon.

She wanders the long corridors of the palace in her sweats and a hoodie over her tank. She lets her feet carry her through the hallways. She zones out her surroundings and she come to an unfamiliar wing. She hears noises in one of the rooms, and her curiosity gets the best of her.

She cracks the door open and immediately recognizes a dojo. She quietly opens the door and slip inside stealthily. Everyone is preoccupied with the sparring men in the mat.

Her eyes roam the impressive room. Training equipment and various stimulator stands are scattered along the fighting mat. An impressive collection of martial art weapons line the left wall. She moves closer to it to get a look. She observes a particular gold-trimmed black bo staff propped on a stand along with regular staffs, several nunchakus, ka-bar knives, daggers, sais swords, katanas. But what catches her eyes is a pack of stainless steel willow leaf throwing knives.

They look just like the set that her father had given for her 7th birthday. She thought how peculiar it was to give a seven year old a set of knives, but her father said that throwing knives helped him clear his mind sometimes. She was able to master knife throwing by the time she was 8 and used it as a calming mechanism just like her father taught her.

Her fingers touch the smooth, cold, steel blade and she picks one of them up. She twirls it in her hands, precise and elegant. Familiarity seeps in through her and she notices a target hung on the wall across her. She holds the blade by the tip and let it fly off her grip, landing straight in the middle of the target. She’s never missed.

The sound of the blade burying itself in the wall pulls the men away from the spar, but she doesn’t notice that they are watching her. She grabs the set and one by one flings it to the target. All 6 fitting on the small dot is the bulls-eye. She smiles to herself. Her first genuine smile through this whole ordeal.

She is pulled away by the sound of applause beside her. She finally notices the crowd that has gathered around her. Liam’s face appears from the group, and he strides up to her. It’s the first time she’s seen him since his visit. He looks a little rugged like he hasn’t gotten any good sleep. He appears to have lost a little bit of weight, but not enough for a random person to notice.

“That was impressive,” he steps in front of her. He’s wiping his brow with a towel and Ryne remembers being so head over heels for him that this simple action would have her wanting him. She observes him and he’s attire. Like her, he’s wearing sweatpants and a white T-shirt stained by sweat.

“Thank you,” she replies with a shy whisper. She watches as the crowd disperses and do their own spars. She watches as they practice a certain style of fighting; she recognizes it as krav maga. “So?” she awkwardly says, not really knowing how to spark conversating. How did they get to this place when not long ago they could talk about anything? They were so comfortable around each other as if they’ve known the other their whole lives, but now they’re so close but so far away.

“Were you sparring?” she asks him. “Yes, I realized after these…events that I have to be more prepared and well-versed in fighting, so Bastien and Mara have been teaching me these last month. My philosophy used to be utilize whatever technique keeps you alive, but it seems that hasn’t worked quite well for me as of late.”

The guilt in her heart grips tighter because she knows he’s talking about the time she almost killed him. She frowns and looks away. She couldn’t bear to meet his eyes for she was afraid of what she might find there. A wistful gloss comes over her eyes as she watches the guards spar each other. She misses the adrenaline and the intense exhilaration from a fight or just spar. She recalls the plenty of memories she has of her parents. Though they weren’t the role model parents she wanted, the experiences she’s had with them are irreplaceable. She hated being bred for a certain lifestyle, but her parents gave her all the attention and love that she needed. Maybe through normal eyes it was odd to teach your child such things, but her parents knew they had enemies and they gave her the tools she needed to stand and fight for herself. When she was growing up, she hated it, but as adultness settled in she sees in hind sight the importance of this side of her.

She would have never survived in the tunnel if it weren’t for her parents. She is slowly coming into acceptance that she will never escape this side of her. This is who she is whether she wanted it or not.

Liam breaks her reminiscing and says, “Care to join me?” He inclines his head pointing to the center of the room to the fighting mat. He must’ve seen the look in her eyes, but her mind starts to think over the offer. Is it safe? She hasn’t had an episode since the last time, but she doesn’t know how severe it can get. She doesn’t know if she can take it if she hurts him again.

“I don’t think that’s a very smart idea, Liam. I’m unstable,” she reasons with him. “Come, Catheryne. It will be alright. Guards are here to watch us if anything happens. Besides, Dr. Flint said you need to have your exercise every day and I doubt you’ve done any kind of physical exertion for the day.” He flashes a tiny smirk and holds out his hand for her to take. She knows there’s no way he would take no for an answer, and as long as he’s the one offering who is she to refuse him.

They walk down to the middle of the room and they split directions. Liam goes to the right while her to the left of the mat. She strips of her hoodie and suddenly she feels very exposed with only her tank top and sweats. She removes her shoes and step onto the mat. She looks across to Liam who matches her, but in the span of few seconds he’s managed to lose his T-shirt.

Clever tactics targeting my emotional weakness for him, but I don’t think he realizes I have years of training in my side. She grins and takes a few steps to the middle of the mat. The foam sinks slightly under her feet, but she doesn’t mind it. She’s been trained to fight in every terrain. Liam meets her in the center and she informs him, “I don’t think you realize just how many years I have against you, Liam. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Ryne. I’m tough and you can never hurt me. But just in advance, I’m sorry, I forgive you and I love you,” Liam assures her. She is caught off guard with the last three words he hasn’t uttered to her in three months. Another tactical advantage because the next thing that happens sends her on the floor. He knew she would be distracted by it, so he used to his advantage and slammed her down to the ground.

It was sudden, but not hard. He’s careful with her just like always. After, he stands back up giving her the chance to recover. “Liam, one. Catheryne, zero,” he boasts. By this time, most of all the guards have their eyes trained on them.

Alright, I guess I need to kick it up a notch and actually mean it. “Nice touch with the distraction there. You should’ve saved it cause you only get once chance to knock me off my feet,” she speaks as she shrugs her shoulders, loosening her muscles.

She stands still in place watching Liam’s figure with laser focus. She’s not the duchess right now. In this moment, it was just her and Liam in a casual sparring session. She observes Liam as he starts to advance to her. He throws punches, powerful and full of control. She steps back with each punch thrown at her, not for defensive tactics, but she’s observing how his body moves finding any opening in his defense.

Finally, she sees it. When he throws a right jab, he angles his body too forward exposing a bit of his side. When he throws that punch, she spins from in front of him to beside him where he’s exposed side is and strikes it, knocking the breath out of him.

“Oof,” Liam holds his side as he bends down putting his hand on his knee. “I didn’t see that coming. I’ll give you credit for that,” he admits his small defeat, but the war isn’t over.

They admit their stances back across each other, gearing up another round. This time there are no smiles only intense stares. They were both competitive in their own right. Liam will be damned if he didn’t put up a show especially in front of his guards. He always could get a little prideful and egotistical.

Catheryne is an embodiment of calm before the storm. She stands with her hands clasped behind her back waiting, testing out the waters. Liam attacks first again, but this time she meets him head on throwing a blocking strike to the punch he throws. Her reflexes are muscle memory to her. Before he throws the left jab, she’s already preparing to block it.

She headbutts Liam with force. She immediately thinks, I hope that doesn’t leave a mark. Liam takes one step back, disoriented for only a moment. He shakes his head and throws his hands up on a guard. I need to think smarter if I’m going to beat her. He eyes the weapon wall and the staff catches his attention.

Liam and Ryne circle each other like two predators hungry for action and thrill. When he makes it to the wall, he grabs the black staff and arms himself with it. He swings like how he was taught with strength and control. He drives Ryne out of his reach, but she doesn’t look the least bit intimidated. In fact, he catches a little glint of amusement in her eye, but it disappears with the blink of an eye.

He holds the staff confidently with both hands as they continue their circling. Liam doesn’t give Ryne the chance to reach the wall and moves forward slashing towards her aiming directly at her chest, but she performs an impressive bend backwards. She does a series of back flips putting distance between them.

She steadies herself by widening her stance. Her body language changes from loose to rigid in a matter of milliseconds. She’s done playing around. Her training kicks in and propels her forward. Liam gears for a swing at her feet but she does a no hands cartwheel to her right, avoiding it and subsequently putting her close enough to grab a staff her own.

She spins it in her hands striking a hard stance with her hands outstretched and the staff tucked in behind her back. They perform a dance in front of each other. They attack with aggression and precision. Catheryne steps away from the defensive and attacks first. Using the staff to lift her, she aims a flying kick aimed at Liam’s face. He blocks with his staff, but her momentum is greater and knocks him backward.

He regains control and strikes her with a series of slashes and swings. She responds defensively, ducking every attack and using the weapon as a shield. Ryne notices that Liam likes to burst his attacks and that he gets very tired quickly when he exerts all the energy in his reserve.

“You know you really should save your energy,” she gives him a tip as she tucks in for a roll knocking him to the ground while catching his leg in her hold using the staff to lock his leg, but she practices control and reels her adrenaline back in before breaking his knee.

“Ah!” Liam exclaims. “That’s two-to-one. I think you need to step up your game, Liam. Or just abandon the staff since you don’t really know how to use it,” she haves fun taunting him. For some odd reason, sparring brought their old relationship back. They didn’t mind being rough with their moves. They both know they’re competitive and they don’t mind it.

He obeys and throws away the staff. “Alright, I’ll give you a fighting chance,” she says with a smile as she lets go of her weapon. Another round starts. Punches and kicks, both blocking and attacking hoping to get an advantage against the other.

Catheryne slaps Liam’s forearms away leaving his torso completely open and she uses her chest and body as a weapon again knocking Liam backwards. By now, he’s learned her techniques. He feigns a punch but ends up sweeping her leg under her.

Catheryne is caught off-guard but not enough to disorient her. She uses her downward momentum to propel her kip up back to a standing position. When Liam throws a roundhouse kick, she catches it and flips him over her head even with the weight difference. She aims a punch for his face but stops an inch away. “You lose,” she smiles in her glory and the guards who have been watching breaks in an applause.

“I concede. You win fair and square,” Ryne holds her hand out and helps him up. They face each other, hands still intertwined. Sweat covers Liam’s face, but Catheryne looks as if she wasn’t even exhausted. They smile, and Liam says, “It’s nice to see you smile, my love. I haven’t seen you this happy and playful since the Homecoming Ball.”

Liam watches as his carefree Catheryne retreat into her guard. He watches as her eyes shift from happy to cold in an instant. He notices her posture, guarded and fierce. Her eyes are dilated and hazy. “Catheryne?” What’s wrong?”

Her grip of his hand tightens, and her nails dig his skin. “Ryne, my love? What’s wrong?” He asks again moving to touch her cheek, but she slaps it away.

“You’re an enemy. You are an enemy and you must be stopped. I must kill you,” she growls.

Liam is confused on what is happening. One minute she was happy, and he was talking to her, but now she’s in her episode. Ryne pushes him on the chest and her punch connects to his face this time. The metallic taste of his blood fills his mouth and he begs for her to come out of her episode while ordering his guards to stay away while he tries to coax her out of this hallucination.

“Catheryne. Listen to me. Listen to my voice. It’s Liam. I am Liam. I am not going to hurt you. I am not the enemy. I promise. The enemies are gone. They will never hurt you again. Not as long as I am living and breathing. No one will hurt you again.” He backs away from her reeling composure.

He remembers the advice Dr. Mallon gives him of trying to remind her of who she is while she’s in her state, “Please, remember who you are. Your name is Catheryne Knightely. You are loved. You are safe. Your favorite color is blue. Your favorite place is the beach. You grew up in North Carolina and moved to New York. You live in Cordonia now. You are a duchess. You own a duchy named Valtoria,” he continues to list facts about her, praying and hoping it works.

She throws a punch again but he’s ready this time. He restrains her against him, “Please, my Ryne. Please remember me. I love you. I love you so much. Remember our trip to the secret cove when we first met. Remember our trip to the Statue of Liberty.”

Having her close, he can see the turmoil in her eyes. He sees it, he sees Catheryne, his Catheryne behind the rage, fighting for control. With that he’s assured that his tactic is working, and he continues to list their adventure together.

He knows that she is still there and that she will never stop fighting. After a long five minutes of restraining her and her struggles, she finally takes control and she falls unconscious from the strain and fatigue. Liam carries her back to her room and sits beside her sleeping form. He recalls the events leading to her episode. He was talking to her about how their relationship felt normal again and how she looked happy.

He can’t figure it out and decides to call Dr. Mallon and ask him for advice. He relays the whole conversation and mentioning how he hasn’t seen Catheryne’s old self since the homecoming ball.

“Liam, did you use the word homecoming specifically?” Dr. Mallon asks through the phone. “Yes, doctor, please. Just tell me what you think it is.”

“Well, when we were in the tunnels. After I’ve administered the chemical into her system and the clips, Amir would recite words to her and I overheard some and one of them was the word ‘homecoming’. I believe, if I am correct, it is a trigger word for her. A word that can spiral her back to an episode almost instantaneously. While she was in the hospital, we were able to remove traces of the hallucinogen from her system, but anything in her memory. We can’t do anything but try to avoid those. I would be very careful about the choices of word you mention around her. I believe they used traumatic moments of her life and the words have a connection to those. I’m so sorry that I can help you more that this, Liam. But good luck.”

“Thank you, Dr. Mallon,” Liam replies before hanging up the room. Again, the guilt in his heart overwhelms him. It’s because of him that she has to continue fighting and go through so much pain. He lays down beside her. Right now, he just wants to feel peace. He just wants to mourn his old Catheryne.

He whispers by her ear and make a promise, “I promise, Catheryne, I promise that I will fight beside you through all of this.”

#taken #playchoices #choices you play #choices the royal romance #choices trr #trr3 #choices trr3 #trr liam #liam x mc #dark angst #liam rys #king liam

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ts-2020-olympics · 4 years

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RITES OF PASSAGE - PRE JURY

Some music to get in the mood, and let’s see the pre-jury rites of passage

youtube

honestly i just wanted to boost my days played and placement average but both of those are now shit

EVE

Connor, Unfortunately you were the first to go, We met briefly in the arena and you seemed like a great personality! Shame that you had to go so early because you were for sure one of the people I really wanted to get to know more through the game!!

KEVIN

the first returnee fallen and so soon :c i was really looking forward to getting to know you because some mutual friends had some good words to say about you but sadly we never got the chance!

SARAH

We didn't get a chance to talk much, but I'd hope we run into each other in a game in the future!

TOMMY

OMG I can't believe you went first after promising me you wouldn't go first. Dhjejdndjdhhdhdhdbdh You were someone I was hoping to play with after you hosted for me in HvV. It would have been great to actually play this season with you, hope you're doing good bud ❤️❤️❤️

EVE

Kathy, We never spoke but from what ive heard from others outside this game they where super upset when you got booted so early because you’re an icon!! Hopefully we can play together in another game some day!!

KEVIN

we never spoke but i loved your intro video, wish you lasted longer so we could’ve talked!

SARAH

You were on a badass tribe, I think we also missed each other in the hustle and bustle of the early rounds, but I'd definitely reach out if I see you around some future Tumblr games.

TOMMY

We never spoke but you had an interesting intro video!

EVE

Bailey, We never spoke and from as much as I can see you where inactive so :/

KEVIN

I didn’t get to speak to you either sadly :c

SARAH

Love, you left too soon. I wish you were by my side longer, I know you would've gotten far in the game, you are a competitive QUEEN in nature. Sister from another tribe, we shall meet again!

TOMMY

We never spoke either, but hope you had fun this season!

EVE

Will! The First OG Yujo to go!! You going so early was so heartbreaking because I felt like all 5 of the original Yujo tribe was very close, you just kinda went inactive :/

KEVIN

We never spoke either unfortunately :/

SARAH

Will we were on the OG Yujo tribe, I had so much fun doing that early challenge with you, making our chant and just shooting the shit while we prepped for the game. I hope you're doing ok, and I hope you come back for another game, because we made a good team.

TOMMY

We never spoke either, but also hope you had fun this season too!

I’m gonna sayyyy, “YES EVE!! Kill it baby!!!!”

EVE

Nik! Probably one of my faves from OG Yujo, I feel like you were the most robbed after watching your tribal back and wish you would’ve came back from the arena so we could’ve had more talks!! Wish you where here for the music video, They just couldn't handle the power of us together for it could they?

KEVIN

We had some interactions in the tribe chat which were fun, but your opinions could use a little work :P sucks you didn’t get to stay longer so I could change them hehe

SARAH

Also from my OG Yujo tribe. You were a pleasure to talk to, and I think you played the game well. Like many in our tribe you left too early, but you worked really well with everyone on the team. You were a genuine person and you were here to both fight and have fun.

TOMMY

It was so sad seeing someone that wanted to be here leave early! Personally I was shocked because I thought you would have done well due to how active you were in the one world chat. It seemed like you may have done well under different circumstances!

In terms of gameplay, I'm not the happiest. In terms of the drama and entertainment I caused, I couldn't be a prouder man. I came into this game guns blazing, not caring what people thought of me. If people were to gain one thing from me, it's that you go out on your own terms and create a legacy where you can come back. I will be returning, and it won't be pretty. I promise ya that.

EVE

Billy, We never really spoke to my knowledge, you where to me someone who I did want out fairly early tho, because you seemed to be someone who had a lot of say over what people did from an outside perspective. When you went I was a little shocked if im being honest.

KEVIN

oh billy, we never spoke one on one but I heard lots about you! you definitely made a mark on this season in the short time you were here.

SARAH

Billy, you played a damn good game. You played the challenges and went to tribals, and even when the pot was stirred up, you kept it fun. This was a good season and I'm sure I'll see you around some more games. Thank you for the spicy tribal sessions.

TOMMY

Despite leaving in the earlier rounds you were super memorable because of your big personality. Truly made things fun from watching yalls tribals, one of the bigger characters of the season!

EVE

Jacob! As far as i'm concerned we never spoke, but you did do 2 arenas and lasted 6 hours in a pressure cooker! So id like to say congrats to you for that! You did amazing for your time here and you should be proud of that!!

KEVIN

We, too, never got to speak but you fought hard in the arena to come back and its a shame you came up just short but i respect you and your determination!

SARAH

Sand, I'm glad I met you because you were super friendly and just generally nice to talk to outside of game shenanigans. Also I love that your name is sand.

TOMMY

You were a competitor I think you kinda got screwed by being voted out in the triple because I remember how well you did when we were in the arena together and seeing you vs. Nicole and Juls was wild. Good luck in future ORGs!

EVE

My heart, my soul, my everlasting woman…. Juls…. Seeing you go was so heart breaking I really was rooting for you in that pressure cooker, and wonder what the outcome of the game would’ve been like had you beaten Nicole and Jacob. It just seems like you’re always the Bridesmaid, never the bride :( But one day you will be the bride.

KEVIN

JULSSSS MY LOVE…. MY LOVE… MY HEART!!! You were so incredibly robbed and im so sorry i couldn’t do anything about it, you’re a beautiful person inside and out and i love you so much and we WILL get to actually PLAY a game together i promise you that!!! Imma just need some time after this one you know <3

SARAH

You know everyone thinks you left too soon. The main village chat is NOTHING without you, you were absolutely one of the most social queens on the village chat. I know I'll see you around again, thank you for bringing life into the daily group chats.

TOMMY

You are one of the sweetest if not the sweetest person I've ever met in an ORG, and super friendly and kind. You're in need of a second chance because I guarantee had you made the merge you would have done extremely well in this game, possibly even have won. I really hope I get the chance to watch you play another season!

EVE

Hi Ben! I dont believe we ever really spoke for the 23 days you where except week 7 when we where in the arena together and you bowed out, which i still think was a bad move because I never like to see anyone just give up. Hope you’re doing well tho hun!

KEVIN

ah Ben, another person i had no interactions with but you had a tough road to drive in this game from an outsiders perspective, you bowed out of the arena and for whatever reasons i hope you’re doing good!

SARAH

Ben we didn't honestly talk too much, so I never got a chance to really know you, but I'm thinking I'll see you around some future games here and there.

TOMMY

We had so many conversations this season even when I was on my OG tribe and I really think your a nice dude. It would be nice to talk with you once the season is over! :)

EVE

Beck…. Babe…. Listen….. I'm so sorry that I had to go against you and kinda throw your name out there, but it came from a place of I know how amazing of a player you where and If you would’ve made it to merge, you probably would’ve ran the game. I think overall for the time you where in the game, you did play a great one

KEVIN

BECK <3 you ugh you’re great an amazing individual…. But i know the dynamic was weird with juls and things got blurry, i wish you both could’ve survived unfortunately the game took a hard left and things went flying all over the place, i would’ve loved to play with you more investedly (if thats a word) but we didnt get the chance, next time <3

SARAH

Beck, I know you got turned on way too early, because you were so nice and you were a damn good team player. You made sure to do your absolute best in challenges and you were ALWAYS there for the team, which maybe went a little too unappreciated in the end.

TOMMY

AN ACTUAL KING! ❤️❤️❤️❤️😻😍😻😍😻😍😻😍😻😍 I MISS YOU SO SOOOO SOOOOOOOO MUCH. I can't believe you left me here after you promised me you would make the merge. I really loved getting to meet and know you as a person and out of everyone who went pre-jury you getting voted out hit the hardest, one of my closest allies and we became really good friends through out the game, hope we can stay in touch and you can show me some more dance moves!

Here's a song to tribute you king ❤️ https://youtu.be/0G3_kG5FFfQ

EVE

Hi Landen! So basically when you went was kind of where I started making all these plans to better myself in the game, finding out that you were making alliances and then telling me about them and then making them and purposefully not adding me into them, hearing from others how much you “Don’t trust me” and I guess in a sense you where right in not trusting me, because along with a few others I made sure everyone was going to vote you in the end of that week. I think you’re a great player though, congrats on being the last Pre Jour!

KEVIN

landen!! We hit it off fairly well, despite the whole me supposed to go home you get out of tribal kinda thing otherwise we bounced off each other well, unfortunately the 3-way tribal round things got hectic and took a turn for the worst, and i guess it was downhill after that, but you play hard and i respect the heck out of that, you DEFINITELY made me nervous in this game (in a good way) :D

SARAH

Landen, I think you are a cool person, although I think you went a little too hard on the dishonesty in the game. I hope you weren't too put off when people turned on you, because you were a very strong challenge competitor and you remained social and talkative with everyone. You were a true disaster prince, and you knew the game well!

TOMMY

You played super hard which I respect. You were bold and I think that made you a huge threat in this game and it would have been interesting to see how we interacted had we ever been on the same tribe and get to know each other. Good luck in your other ORGs!

#zestypowerfuluniqueflavorfulhealthy #notice

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inawickedlittletown · 5 years

Text

Walking The Wire (117/155)

Summary: Tony Stark always knew about Peter Parker. He didn’t know that Peter was going to get superpowers and become Spider-Man, but he always knew about Peter because Peter was his son.

This will span from pre-Iron Man up through the rest of the MCU (eventually including Infinity War) and will be for the most part canon compliant except where I’ve taken some liberties and interpreted canon a certain way.

Pairings: Pepper/Tony, Tony/Steve (endgame), Tony/Mary (past)

A/N: If you want me to tag you when I post new chapters let me know. This fic is also on AO3

I used Collider’s MCU timeline to stay canon and the title of this fic is an Imagine Dragons song that is just so fitting for Peter and Tony

@findmeinthestarss

Masterpost

Chapter One Hundred Sixteen

Strange was on the ground but he was awake and Peter stood a few feet away, the iron legs gone back into the suit and his mask pulled back. The cape flew away from Peter where Peter had been greeting it to Strange as Tony approached and let the nanotech in the suit pull back entirely as he walked towards them.

“We’ve got to turn this ship around,” Strange said.

It was Tony’s first instinct too. Figure out how to turn the ship around and go back home. It was sort of his main instinct because Peter was on the ship. The only thing was that he didn’t know if they could or if it was the right thing to do. Maybe there was something to the idea of catching Thanos unaware because the last thing that he was probably expecting was for them to show up wherever the ship was headed. After all, they were already headed to space so maybe they just needed to stick with that trajectory since Strange had gotten them into this situation in the first place by not leaving when he could have.

“Stark, we have to turn the ship around.”

“Yeah. Now he wants to run. Great plan,” Tony muttered.

“No,” Strange grounded out. “I want to protect the stone.”

Tony really just -- he hated how arrogant Strange was even after Tony had gone to the trouble of saving his life. He headed towards what looked to be the controls of the ship.

“And I want you to thank me. Go ahead. I’m listening,” Tony added as he walked away.

“For what? Nearly blasting me into space?” Strange asked as if he hadn’t been surrounded by needles just a few minutes earlier.

It was as if he wasn’t taking into consideration at all that Tony and Peter had had to leave Earth to save him because he and the Time Stone around his neck had gotten captured and taken onto an alien ship.

“Who just saved your magical ass?” Tony asked and he turned because he knew that Strange had walked after him. “Me.”

“I seriously don’t know how you fit your head into that helmet,” Strange said and Tony thought that he must have said it solely to irritate him. He really couldn’t stand this man.

If Strange had only listened to Tony while they were on Earth when Tony told him to leave it was possible that they wouldn’t be in the situation they were finding themselves in now on some alien ship in space headed to -- well, Tony had no idea where they were headed.

“Admit it,” Tony said. “You should have ducked out when I told you to. I tried to bench you. You refused.”

Dr. Strange scoffed and it was clear that he was too arrogant and too determined to disagree with Tony and at least bickering with him took his mind off of worrying about Peter and the outcome of the situation they were in. From the looks of it it the ship was on some sort of autopilot. Tony had no way of knowing where it was headed but there was certainly a destination.

“Unlike everyone else in your life,” Strange said, “I don’t work for you.”

“And due to that fact, we’re now in a flying donut billions of miles away from Earth with no backup.” That was the part that really rankled Tony if he was honest. He had no way to contact the team -- to let them know what was going on or that they were okay. No way to figure out a plan together and really decide what their best choice would be. They were on their own. He and Peter were on their own with Strange.

“I’m backup,” Peter spoke up from behind Strange.

Tony didn’t want to be angry with Peter. He didn’t want to be upset at him for staying on the ship when Tony had been sending home and yet it was there under the surface because Tony had to think about the universe as a whole and his mind just kept going back to protecting his kid because to him that was the most important thing and yet -- Peter’s well being couldn’t be the priority. Not this time.

“No,” Tony said, addressing Peter, “you’re a stowaway.” And for good measure he pointed at himself and Strange. “The adults are talking.”

Peter’s shoulders dropped a little and he looked like he was ready to argue back, but he seemed to rethink it.

“I’m sorry,” Strange said. He was looking between him and Peter with some interest. “So, I’m a bit confused as to the relationship here. What is he? Your ward?”

“No,” Peter said. “I’m Peter, by the way.”

“I’m surprised you don’t already know,” Tony said. “After all, everyone knows I have a son.”

Granted, most people didn’t know that his son was Peter and that his son was Spider-Man, but Strange wouldn’t care one way or another.

Strange grunted. “I don’t actually follow your media coverage, Stark,” he said. “So this is your son, then?” Strange looked Peter over, seemingly taking the moment to really look at him before he let out a breath. “I’m Doctor Strange,” he said directing it at Peter.

Tony busied himself looking at the controls of the ship, trying to figure out how they worked and what they might need to do to get control of the ship and maybe get it off of autopilot too.

“Oh,” Peter said, “we’re using our made-up names. Um, I’m Spider-Man, then.”

Tony tried not to laugh. He wasn’t sure if Peter had said it because he was serious or because he was getting some amusement out of confusing Strange.

“The ship is self-correcting its course,” Tony informed them. “It’s on autopilot.”

Tony still wasn’t sure if they should head back home. The father in him said yes -- that it was the best thing to do. It would mean being back somewhere familiar where they could figure out what to do with the Time Stone. It would also mean having Peter back on Earth and having the option of trying to keep Peter out of trouble. But he couldn’t make that decision based solely on what was best for Peter. He couldn’t be a dad -- he couldn’t be Tony Stark about it. He had to be Iron Man -- he had to be an Avenger.

“Can we control it? Fly us home?” Strange asked.

Tony didn’t answer. What were the better odds? Thanos would come for the stone no matter where they were and with him destruction and death.

“Stark?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you get us home?” Oh, but he wanted to. He wanted to badly.

“I heard you,” Tony said. “I’m -- I’m thinking -- well...I’m not so sure we should go back.”

Tony knew that as soon as he said it that Strange didn’t agree and that he didn’t understand what Tony meant by it.

“Under no circumstance can we bring the Time Stone to Thanos,” Strange said. “I don’t think you quite understand what’s at stake here.” He got in Tony’s face, anger and fear so obvious in the way he stared at Tony and it was so demeaning and pushy and of course Tony understood. He understood better than anyone.

“No, it’s you who doesn’t understand,” Tony shot back. “Thanos has been inside my head for six years! Since he sent an army to New York and now he’s back and I don’t know what to do. So, I’m not so sure if it’s a better plan to fight him on our turf or his, but you saw what they did. What he can do. At least on his turf, he’s not expecting it. So, I say we take the fight to him.”

He had decided. He was sure it was the right thing to do. The only thing to do. Tony stared at Strange and at least the man was smart enough to take Tony’s words and think on them and not just shove them aside like everything else Tony had said.

“Doctor, do you concur?”

Strange took a moment and then there was a slight nod even though Tony could tell that Strange wasn’t entirely sure. “Alright, Stark. We go to him.”

Was it a good plan? Tony wasn’t sure -- it just seemed like the thing to do. Because if they could turn the ship around -- assuming they could even manage that -- it wouldn’t exactly lead them away from the fight. Tony started to turn away from Strange, but Strange stopped him and he looked almost apologetic in the way he stared at Tony. He glanced back towards Peter once before speaking.

“You have to understand,” Strange said, “if it comes to saving you or your son or the Time Stone -- I will not hesitate to let either of you die. The fate of the universe depends on it.”

Peter let out a gasp. Small and almost silent. Tony tried not to react with anger.

“Good,” Tony said. “Nice moral compass you got there.”

Strange looked away and Tony stepped back too and then he looked towards Peter. Too loyal and too wonderful Peter who should have been back on Earth safe and sound. Tony would have felt so much better about this decision if Peter wasn’t there. He hated the idea of bringing Peter along to this fight -- to face a threat worse than any they’d ever faced before. Peter had moved over, closer to the controls which he looked at with curious interest.

Tony dropped a hand to Peter’s shoulder and Peter just moved into a hug almost instantly as if it were instinct to him and Tony didn’t mind it at all. Peter’s arms wrapped around Tony’s middle and he was warm and breathing and alive and Tony could hear his heartbeat and it was enough. Tony pressed a kiss to Peter’s head and he closed his eyes and let himself imagine that they weren’t on an alien ship and instead back home and none of it was true.

“Love you, kid,” Tony said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen,” Peter whispered.

“I know.” And he did. He could tell that Peter felt sorry -- he maybe didn’t regret his actions completely, but he hated disappointing Tony. “It’s -- I don’t know if I’d say it’s okay but there’s nothing to be done now.”

“I know,” Peter said.

When Tony looked up he found that Strange was watching them.

Chapter One Hundred Eighteen

#peter and tony #peter and tony fic #mcuwriting #mcu fic #iron dad #iron dad and spider son #stony #stony fic #marvel

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tidewashed · 7 years

Text

FAILED SUICIDE ATTEMPT. PARALYZED. SUFFER LIFE.

Ariel Triton’s heartbeat pounds loudly in her ears as she stares at herself in the mirror. She can’t feel the cool surface of the sink she’s gripping, or hear the running water of the sink. She is sixteen, bright-eyed and bubbly, like a freshly popped bottle of champagne — or, at least, that’s what she forces herself to believe.

It is seven o’clock in the evening, a chilly autumn night. Downstairs, her sisters prepare dinner — usually she’d help out, but she hasn’t been feeling too well lately. There’s a heavy, heavy weight on her chest that just won’t go away; and though no one else can see it, she can feel it. It’s the one thing that won’t leave her body, even when she sleeps — that intrusive feeling of numbness that slowly worms its way into every little thing she does. She tries to cover it up as best as she can, because she doesn’t want anyone else to worry about her: dark circles under her eyes? A never-ending cycle of homework and projects. (Lie.) Barely eating? No appetite. (Lie.) Anything wrong? No, everything’s okay. (The biggest lie of all.)

She hasn’t felt like this in three years. Back then, the uphill battle was easily conquerable — or rather, she had to conquer it, considering the fact that her father breathed down the back of her neck, as did all her sisters. It probably helped that the urge wasn’t as strong, and she had the excuse that she was still learning. But that was then, and this is now. Now her once kind classmates are cruel, and every little thing bothers her: one wrong hand gesture sends the wrong message; and the number of times she’s been shoved in the hallways and laughed at for not snapping back is

Her sister calls her down for dinner, and so she obliges. She splashes water on her face, cold against her skin, turns off the tap, and heads downstairs to eat. She doesn’t have much of an appetite as she usually does, but she tries to eat even just a little bit. Ariel has gotten surprisingly better at hiding things as she gets older — she’s not sure if it’s just adolescence or out of pure necessity; but it scares her.

When she’s done, she heads back upstairs and treads to her father’s room. Ever since their mother’s death, she and her sisters have tried to actively avoid visiting that room — they didn’t want him to actively stress over trivial things, and it was an unspoken rule in the Triton household that Johannes Triton was the one person that needed privacy the most. But not tonight — she needs something, and she needs it now.

Luckily for her, he’s working late at the courthouse tonight — something about a plea deal for one of the more serious crimes committed on the island, plus a study of another case he was going to preside over. She looks back to make sure none of her sisters see her, and steps in. Quickly she heads to his bathroom, and opens his medicine cabinet. Lately, her father’s been having trouble sleeping — so she knows exactly what she’s looking for. Once she sees the two plastic containers, bright orange labeled with his name, she snatches them, shuts the medicine cabinet, and rushes back to her room.

She finds herself in her bathroom again, the first bottle of pills perched on the sink. On the other side is her water bottle, refilled right before she left school. Both caps are off, and Ariel stares down both bottles. That unwelcome way her heartbeat pounds in her ears returns to her, and a warning sign begins to flash in her head. Sighing to herself, she shakes the orange bottle until a good number of pills falls out into her palm. She glares at them, bright white against her shaking palm. She’s jittery, and she swears she can hear her mother’s voice begging her to stop.

Ariel, please, she begs. Don’t do this.

But in the sixteen-year-old’s mind, she has to — how many times has she been called stupid and dumb in this year alone, all because she can’t speak? How many times have bullies tried to shove their fingers in her mouth with the excuse of trying to find her voice? How many times has she heard the words Too bad you can’t scream, huh? whispered maliciously in her ear? How many times does she have to lose the fights she’s forced into before people finally stop?

She can’t count the number of times her sisters have tried to tell her to stay strong and ignore actions committed against her — but she can’t. No matter how hard she tries, she can never escape the cruelties of high school, of people who don’t understand. It’s absolutely frustrating, feeling like you can never have a voice — and even if her entire family feels empathy towards her and tells her they understand, she’s stopped believing they do. The credo that states that you can never fully understand a person’s struggle is one that resonates with her, especially now. No one can ever understand Ariel’s plight, because no one’s gone through the same things as her.

She’s managed to get over her mother’s death, finally made peace with the horrible flashbacks of how her mother died; but a successful surgery with the wrong outcome is harder to get over. It was supposed to be right, and she was supposed to get her voice back — but three years later, she’s still quiet. It’s been an escalating problem since then — this is not just a rash decision, it’s three years of pent-up frustrations with no resolution. Every try has succeeded in failure, and it’s putting a damper on her. There’s no way of knowing if she can still speak or not, because every time she tries to open her mouth, no sound comes out. She’s taken her time learning ASL and employing different methods of communication, but it’s not the same. It will never be the same.

Ariel swallows down the lump in her throat as she pours the first handful of pills into her mouth, quickly washing it down with two gulps of water. There’s a bitter aftertaste in her mouth, but she ignores it. When she stares at herself in the mirror, her eyes begin to water, and her nose is turning red. But she has to avoid it. She has to kill the noise.

She grips the sink again, using her free hand to wipe the tears that fall from her eyes. Stop it, she scolds herself. You don’t want to go out crying. She shakes out another handful and closes her fist around it, avoiding her reflection in the mirror. If she squeezes hard enough, she knows she can crush it. Her mother’s voice comes back to her, equal parts haunting and soothing; telling her the same thing over and over again: Ariel, my darling girl, please. Don’t do this.

Shaking her head, she tips it back and lets it fall into her mouth again, another sour look on her face as the pills wash down her throat. She’s so scared it’ll come back up so she tries to take it slow — but she’s always been an impatient girl. She wants to go now, to finally get some peace of mind and leave. She doesn’t want to be part of a world where she’ll never feel she’ll belong, because she’s tired. She’s tired of putting up too much effort, tired of fighting battles she knows she’s going to lose anyway. So she continues on, tipping pills into her mouth until one and a half bottles of her father’s medication are on the floor and her water bottle empty, the remainder of pills spilled out.

She’s woozy now, and the effects are now beginning to kick in. She’s stopped crying now, but tears still stream down her cheeks as she stumbles towards her bed. She’s definitely lightheaded now, feeling her legs begin to give and her hands grasp at the bed post; but before she knows it, she hits the floor, and the world turns black.

Maybe this is it. Maybe this is where it finally ends.

But it doesn’t.

When she opens her eyes again, the room is bright. She hears the beep of a machine to her right, and a rustle of whispers that vaguely sound like… her sisters.

She glances down at her arms — one arm’s got a little clip on her finger, and the other… an IV drip. Once her eyes finally adjust to the light, she spots six female figures rushing toward her, all screaming her name. She recognizes every single one of them as she sits up, and a man that looks exactly like her father.

Her father.

No.

In the arms of her family, Ariel Triton can’t stop crying. Whether it’s because she’s angry that things didn’t turn out the as planned or because everyone’s here, reminding her that she is too — and that she’s alive and breathing — she doesn’t know. The only thing that’s running in her mind is: what the hell went wrong?

“Ariel, oh my god, you’re okay — ”

“Ariel, what the hell were you thinking — ”

“We could have lost you, oh my god — ”

“We had no idea what you were going through, we’re so sorry — ”

“Don’t do that to yourself ever again, sis, you have to promise me — ”

“We’re so happy you’re alive, Ariel, please don’t scare us like that again — ”

All the things her sisters say go in one ear and out the other, and through the burning blur of her tears, her eyes meet her father’s. And for some reason, the look in his eyes hits her like a ton of bricks, strong and painful. She feels shame and anger and frustration all at once that it’s practically unbearable, and she has to look away. She stole his medication and used it for her own means, and now she doesn’t know how to respond to it. She’s visibly shaking, and her sisters’ faces become a blur, but they all share the same expression. She doesn’t have the words for it, but they’re crying too.

One of them pulls away — Adella, she thinks — and says, “Dad, do you want us to leave you two alone to talk?”

She doesn’t see it, but she thinks he nods, because all her sisters stand to leave — but not before each one of them presses a kiss to her forehead and holds her hand, each touch more bittersweet than the last one.

And finally, her father comes into full view, the honorable Judge Triton sitting down on the chair next to her bed. There’s a long pause before he speaks, the telltale quiver in his voice telling her everything he’s going to say to her. She expects it, but it still hurts when the words come out loud:

“What have you done to yourself, Ariel?”

That sends her breaking down again, hands pushing tears out of her face. I needed it to stop, she signs at him. I’m so tired, Dad. It’s so hard putting in so much effort to do everything when it doesn’t even matter to anyone. I’ve been trying since I was thirteen and it’s never worked out. It’s so frustrating, and I don’t want to do it anymore. As she continues to sign, tears choke her, making it difficult for her to concentrate. I just want to die. Why didn’t let you let me die?! She slams her fists agains the mattress, enough to make the steel frame shake.

Her father reaches over and envelopes her in a hug, holding her tight so she can’t push away. “It’s not your time yet, honey,” he says, voice breaking. “A-and I don’t think your sisters and I are ready to let go of you any time soon.”

She continues to sob, finally choosing to wrap her arms around her dad. It’s been a while since they’ve done this — as the years passed and he became stricter, she began to pull away. But she’s not going to this time; not when she can feel her father refusing to let go of his youngest daughter. “You scared us — all of us. And I know you just want everything to stop, but you’ve gotten through this before. I know it seems like you’ve lost, but you can’t think that, okay?” He pulls away to look at her, and for a brief moment, their faces match each other’s: blue eyes rimmed with red, cheeks wet with tears. “You have to promise me you’ll never do this again, you understand? You’ve got so much ahead of you, Ariel, you don’t even know what’s going to happen. You’ve got to see things through, please. You have to try. Not just for us, but for you. Every day you’re alive is another day closer to getting by. You understand?”

She has to nod, because she knows — understands — that her family is not going to let her give up so easily. She has to nod because there is truth to her father’s words. But nothing shakes the feeling of death looming over her, waiting for the next perfect moment to strike — she feels it as they pump charcoal water into her to flush out the pills still left in her system; she feels it every moment she spends in the psych ward of the hospital, three days of suicide watch for a girl with seemingly perfect health. She feels it grow heavier on her shoulders when the doctor tells her she was in a six-hour coma, that the drugs had begun to enter her system when Andrina found her lifeless on the floor and dialed 911, screaming for help. For a few moments, she didn’t even have a pulse.

All of this is news to her, especially since she doesn’t remember anything linear. The memories only come to her in flashes, and in minute details: shaky hands, the bitter taste of medicine on her tongue, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. She now suffers a life plagued by these memories, and if she isn’t vigilant and in control of herself, the pain feels palpable again. Most of all, she remembers her reflection in the mirror: a sixteen-year-old crying, begging for everything to be over.

Ariel just hopes to god it never happens again.

#astratask #astratask02 #suicide tw #suicide attempt tw #this was the hardest thing i have ever had to write #and is potentially triggering so pls be careful should u choose to read it #『 *:･ﾟ✧ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵈᵃʸ ᶦ'ᶫᶫ ᵇᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʷᵒʳᶫᵈ // drabbles. 』#『 *:･ﾟ✧ ᵃ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗ ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᵒᶠ ˢʰᵃᶫᶫᵒʷ ᶫᶦᵛᶦᶰᵍ // headcanons. 』

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inkognito97 · 7 years

Text

Youngster V

Sequel to 'Youngster IV'

Summary: A Sith Knight comes face to face with the past, as well as the possible future...

“And you are truly sure that this is going to work?” Anakin sent his former Master a bemused look while they were flying in one of the public transportation systems through the bright night of Coruscant. The city planet never slept and was always bright, either from the sun or from the street lamps and vehicles.

“Yes Master, I KNOW this is going to work.” He couldn’t quite keep the amusement out of his voice. He had lost count on how often the ginger haired man had repeated this question. But the blonde could not blame him. If their roles were interchanged, then he would probably react similar or even worse.

“Well, if you say so,” it warmed the young Skywalker that his Master was putting so much trust in him.

Anakin and Ahsoka had spent the last few weeks, months even, with undercover research. When they had finally found out that Qui-Gon was indeed not far away – a poor Council member had to suffer by the talented hand of Obi-Wan, of course he did not remember this incident – they had started to plan. At one point Dooku had been informed, he had immediately agreed to help when the ginger haired Sith in Jedi disguise had explained everything. Anakin was still a little uneasy about the Count’s involvement, especially since Ventress would be there with them, but after his former Master’s reassurance, he had accepted. Besides, Ahsoka would be able to handle Dooku’s apprentice quite well, should the need arise that is.

“And you have not forgotten to include Padme and Satine?” Obi-Wan was still worrying his brilliant mind. Then again, he was probably trying everything to keep his mind from coming up with the worst possible outcomes.

“Yes Master, they are informed and more than willing to help, especially Satine.” He winked at his shorter companion, who returned with one of his annoyed glances. “What? You love her, don’t you? And she loves you. I don’t understand why you make such a fuss about it.”

The older male rolled his eyes. “It’s a little bit different from your and Padme’s situation, young one.” “How so?” he furrowed his brow while Obi-Wan’s gaze returned to the buildings they were passing.

“I am a Sith Knight Anakin... I don’t know if she will understand.”

“Of course she will. I mean, Padme understood when I told her that I would not leave the Jedi Order. It is still working.” Anakin distantly remembered when he had gone to Obi-Wan’s quarters one evening and confessed everything about his and Padme’s secret relationship as well as their wedding back in his late Padawan days. He had been surprised when Obi-Wan had reacted almost nonchalant and it had become even worse when the older male had revealed that he had known all along. Afterwards Anakin had managed to tickle the truth about Satine out of his stubborn Master. It had felt like a great relief to be able to talk to someone like this. That and the Sith had become a valuable help and presence in his relationship with his sometimes stubborn wife.

“We’ll see about that, but for now, we should focus on the task ahead.” Anakin nodded in agreement and for the rest of the ride they remained silent.

After they had exited their transport, the two men had to walk a few minutes. They had their hoods up, protecting their faces from cameras and passerby alike.

“Had I known that he was being held so close to the actual temple... I should have expected it.”

“You couldn’t know,” Anakin tried to calm his Master down. He could already feel how the Force was shifting around the older male, but not yet in a dark or even dangerous zone. Ever since their confrontation and Obi-Wan’s revelation, he had been more open with his emotions and Force presence. It had been quite the shock for Anakin to realize how much his usual serene and calm appearing Master actually felt behind that well crafted mask of his. It rivalled his own state, with the difference that Obi-Wan had better control. But the blonde was already working on that, with the ginger haired Sith’s help of course.

“Hiding him in close proximity, in perfect reach to watch him and to use him against me should the need arise,” the shorter man shook his head in disgust, “They will pay for that.” “I thought you were not one for revenge?” the young Skywalker was slightly getting worried.

“Oh, I am not talking about revenge. But there will undoubtedly come a point when the mighty Jedi will require my help and I will see if I am going to jump to their aid willingly.”

Anakin hummed in thought. He was not going to argue with Obi-Wan about this point. He knew that it would be a match that he would lose. He was never one for talks and negotiations, at least not, when no lightsaber was involved.

“Dooku will be ready, won’t he?” Anakin tried to change the subject.

“He probably has everything set up for a few days now. He would never endanger our lives willingly.” “And with ‘our lives’, you mean Qui-Gon’s and yours, right?”

Obi-Wan gave him a smirk, “Dooku knows that I would not be very pleased if something would happen to you. He learned that the hard way, after he wounded you on Geonosis. Believe me, he will not make THAT mistake ever again.”

Anakin furrowed his brows, “What exactly did you do to him?”

They turned another corner, always staying in the shadows. They could already see the building they were heading for. Who would have thought that the Jedi Order would actually have a hidden base on Coruscant, with underground cells and laboratories? At least they now knew what happened to all those, who were not true to the Order and the Code. An information Anakin did not really want in the first place.

Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkled and for a moment they had a golden touch to them. “Oh, I just wiped the sparring ground with my dear Grandmaster.” He huffed, “Qui-Gon would have found it hilarious... I hope I can find the footage again.”

“You bested Dooku? Alone?”

“No Anakin,” the man sighed dramatically, “I had my undead Sith army to back me up. Of course I bested him alone, ever since I turned twenty, he was no match for me.”

A picture of his former Master appeared in the forefront of the young Skywalker’s mind. He pictured countless zombie like creatures creeping behind the ginger haired man, whose eyes were glowing gold and on whose face black marks had appeared. It was a ridiculous thought, but also felt extremely terrifying.

“Would it be possible? The undead army, I mean.” “Well,” the shorter man cleared his throat, “legends says that there once WAS a Sith who could command the dead. But as every legend, you do not know which parts are actually true and what parts are not. Perhaps he just brought someone from the edge of death, I don’t know. I just know that I am not able to bring the dead back to life and no other living person right now is capable either.”

“Not even Sidious?” he just wanted to be absolutely sure.

“Not even Sidious,” Obi-Wan reassured his young companion. “Now, I think we have arrived,” he turned his back to the building, “I’ll contact our comrades and you prepare for our entrance.”

Anakin immediately followed the order. From one of his pockets he fished a dark mask that would hide his face. With a lot of fantasy, it looked like the head of a gundark, but only with a LOT of fantasy. Obi-Wan would put his on as well – his mask was less colourful, actually it was just a creepy smile painted on a black and white mask – namely as soon as he was finished with his call.

“Good, everybody is in position. As soon as Asajj, Cad and the other bounty hunters create the distraction, we go in. Once we got to Qui-Gon, we free him and bring him to the hanger bay, where Ahsoka will wait with the escape ship. Asajj will take over later and she will bring Qui-Gon to Dooku’s base on Serenno. I guess that my Grandmaster will have the medical bay ready by then as well.”

Anakin nodded dutifully at the short summery of their mission. It sounded easy and makeable. The two of them had often accomplished worse things, which meant that a little rescue mission couldn’t be that hard, right? Then again he had never worked together with bounty hunters, especially not Cad Bane, but Obi-Wan had said that he was trustworthy. Apparently the two of them had become something like friends after the ginger haired Sith had rescued his blue skin one or two times in the past.

The two men exchanged a last glance before they set to work. They did not have to wait long for the distraction to take action. At first, a loud explosion was heard, followed by a distant alarm. The guards and Jedi in the building would go and investigate, leaving their prisoner mostly unprotected.

“That’s our signal,” the older male stated and he was already moving towards one of the hidden entrances. There were several, probably to make sure that special prisoners could quickly be moved out of the danger zone, not that it would help the Jedi now.

A light shudder ran through Anakin Skywalker’s whole body when he felt his former Master’s aura darkening, he had still not gotten used to that aspect just yet. He could feel the other’s Force presence reaching out, searching for any sign of life, danger or something else. He himself quickly followed the Sith’s example and promptly spotted his Padawan’s Force signature, along that of Ventress. The bounty hunters were close by and a few Force sensitive beings, those were the Jedi, were closing in rapidly.

“We don’t have much time,” the blonde said while igniting his lightsaber, just as Obi-Wan had just done.

“How about we stop talking then and focus on cutting open the entrance instead,” came the sarcastic remark. The Jedi Knight did as he was told and together, the pair was now standing inside a bright hallway. It was almost beautiful and peaceful in there, hadn’t it been for the flashing blood red light.

“This way,” Obi-Wan motioned his companion to follow. Meanwhile the Jedi had closed in on the distraction, oblivious to the true threat that had already infiltrated their defences.

The masked men made quick progress. Only two times did they had to hide behind a pillar or false wall and only ones did they have to take another path, because they had met obstacles and patrols along the way.

“Master, I am not sure how long Ventress and the bounty hunters can hold their position,” Ahsoka’s voice sounded through the comlink on Anakin’s arm. Golden eyes looked at his companion, Obi-Wan had heard what had been said as well.

“Master,” Anakin began, but he was quickly interrupted. “I will not return, not at this point. You and your student are free to leave whenever you want however,” the accented and cultivated voice said.

The Knight hesitated only a second, “We won’t abandon you.”

“Master is right,” the young Togruta chirped in.

“Thank you,” and from the way the older male’s voce quivered, Anakin knew that he truly meant that.

“Not for that my former Master,” and with that they continued their search, steps just this much quicker. They had refrained from using any names, in case the cameras were able to record audio.

“He’s here,” Anakin allowed himself to sigh in relief at the words of his dark companion. He had hoped and begged to the Force that they would find Qui-Gon soon, not only for the Jedi Master’s sake, but for Obi-Wan’s sake as well. The ginger haired male was greatly bothered by the whole affair and whenever that particular topic had came up, there had been an almost undetectable shift in the man’s Force presence. An outsider would never have noticed it, but the young Skywalker HAD been Obi-Wan’s Padawan for over ten years after all. You learn a few things about a person in ten years and the person about you as well. It was just natural.

“What are we waiting for then?” he had his lightsaber back in his hand, its blue blade shimmering and ready for action, but an outstretched hand stopped him. “No Anakin, wait. We don’t know in what condition he is and how he will react to contact with another being or the Force. We have to be careful.”

The younger male hummed, “I should let you do it then,” he deactivated his deadly weapon and took a step back again, to give the Sith in Jedi disguise some room to work with. He received a grateful nod in return.

The ginger haired man took a calming breath and released all his emotions into the Force, leaving him in a calm and almost meditating state. He called back the darkness and made his presence in the Force as neutral as humanly possible. He guessed that his old Master would react positive to the dark energy, but he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, which is why he lowered it. Then he reached out with the Force and slowly, very slowly opened the cell door.

All his training as Jedi and as Sith, could not have prepared Obi-Wan for the sight that greeted him upon the opening door. The cell was dark, pitch dark to be exact. The only light inside, was the light that came from the hallway. The cell’s inhabitant immediately tried to escape the brightness, but it was to no avail, for he was chained like a dirty animal to the wall. There were Force suppressing cuffs on his wrists, on his ankles and around his neck. All cuffs were connected with laser chains to the wall. The man was gagged as well, with an uncomfortable looking mask. Obi-Wan noticed with horror that his beloved Master was not well cared for. He was clearly dehydrated and underfed, probably just given the minimum for his survival. His brown hair was tangled, unkempt, matted in most places and was also a lot longer than the last time Obi-Wan had seen the man. The same could be said from the beard, or at least from the parts of the beard which were not covered by the mask and could therefore be seen. Midnight blue eyes that used to sparkle with life and contentment, were now lifeless and full of fear. It was as if there was a completely different man right in front of the ginger haired Sith.

He took a hesitant step into the cell, only to stop dead in his tracks, when a whimpering sound escaped the gagged man. Qui-Gon’s whole body was shivering violently and he wanted nothing more than to escape, that much was clear.

“What have those monsters done to you?” Obi-Wan asked out aloud and he fought hard to force his emotions under control. There were hate and anger pulsing deep in his veins, but he couldn’t allow it to run free, not when Qui-Gon needed him clear headed. He took another step forward, ignoring the obvious flinch of the older male and his worsening trembling.

“Master, is everything alright?” Anakin whispered just loud enough for the ginger haired adult to hear. Obi-Wan was thankful for that.

“No...” he replied honestly, “I fear that I have to use a Force suggestion to calm him down... he is disorientated and in a lot of distress. Also those cuffs have to stay on for now...”

“Oh,” was all Anakin could reply, not that Obi-Wan blamed him. He himself struggled with finding the right words, and he was ‘The Negotiator’ after all, or at least that is what the people liked to call him. He himself was not very eager for such a title, it had no real use, it could not save people or make a change after all.

Obi-Wan lowered himself to the floor and did not allow himself to be bothered by the dry substances on the dirty ground. Right now the only thing that mattered, was getting Qui-Gon out of here. He reached out with the Force, focusing on the Sith Lord in front of him, or what remained of the once proud and strong man. The man’s mind was just like his outward appearance, in complete disarray and not well cared for. There were no real mental shields protecting the older male’s mind and it was easy for the trained Sith to get into the other’s mind to plant drowsiness and the overwhelming desire to sleep there. Eventually the tall man just slumped in his cuffs, haunted eyes closed and breathe calming down. Only then did Obi-Wan open his own eyes again. In one fluid move, he was at his Master’s side, opening the cuffs on his wrists and ankles, but not the one around his neck, with the aid of the Force and capturing the tall frame in his arms when he cut through the last chain. The man was a lot thinner than he used to and therefore a lot lighter. With Anakin’s help, Qui-Gon was positioned on the ginger haired Sith’s shoulders.

“Ready Master?” the blonde asked. He received a short nod as an answer. “Alright, let’s go then, I will contact Ahsoka on the way.”

The next phase of their plan worked as well. Ahsoka was waiting, like she was supposed to, with an unobtrusive little transport vehicle at the meeting point. With much care had Obi-Wan positioned his Master on one of the makeshift beds and secured the man so that he would not fall out. Ahsoka had taken off then, leaving Anakin and Obi-Wan to help Asajj and the bounty hunters in their escape. They knew that their third phase was quickly approaching and that the time in between was short, but they would never leave a comrade behind.

“It was nice working with you again, my dear Obi-Wan,” the bald Sith assassin purred once they were outside the base. The ginger haired Sith just huffed and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek, which she promptly returned, before he was able to rearrange his mask. She then vanished into the darkness of the night, undoubtedly on her way to join and assist Dooku, who would await Ahsoka and Qui-Gon. The young Togruta Padawan would leave her cargo in Dooku’s capable hands and then she was to return to the Jedi temple.

Cad Bane did NOT want to be kissed, nor did Obi-Wan want to kiss him. It was different with Asajj, because she was like a sister or a cousin for him. But the blue bounty hunter with the ridiculous hat at least allowed the young Sith to hug him.

“Till the next time I have to save your behind, Kenobi,” he was wearing his trademark smirk on his face.

“Excuse me? Usually it is ME, who is doing the rescuing,” Obi-Wan laughed. They quickly parted ways after a last handshake, to Force knows where. Obi-Wan and Anakin however, had a meeting with a senator and a duchess and they did not want to let the ladies wait.

“Come on Anakin,” the young Sith whispered fiercely and pushed his former pupil with the aid of the Force onto the balcony of Senator Amidala’s quarters. He himself quickly followed suit, much more elegant however.

As expected, the glass doors that led to the apartment’s insides, was not locked and the two Force users silently slipped inside. They listened for voices or other sounds, but could only hear the two females talking, which is why they carefully walked into the living space, where the two females were dining together.

“Padme,” Anakin exclaimed happily and he had already crossed half the distance between them, with the mask ripped off of his face, before she looked up. Obi-Wan was a little shyer.

“Satine,” he bowed his head to the blonde beauty, while the other pair had embraced each other. She had discarded her royal clothes and her usual head gown, for a plain blue dress, but she still looked stunning to his eyes.

“Obi-Wan,” the Mandalorian returned the greeting, before she boldly reached out to pull the hideous mask from his face. She carelessly discarded it onto the floor, where it laid upside down. “You should change your clothes,” she continued.

He nodded mechanically, but did not move from the spot he was standing on and neither did he turn his gaze away from her face. Her brow slightly furrowed when he did not move, which is why she took his hand into her own and led him towards Padme’s bedroom, where two bags rested on the bed. One belonged to Anakin and one to Obi-Wan.

“Is everything alright?” her worried voice cut through his thoughts and he was able to pull away from her enough, to get rid of the black robe he was wearing. He carelessly let it slight onto the silky sheets of the king-sized bed.

“Yes,” a pause, “no.” He sighed and he felt her come up behind him, while he slowly changed back into his usual Jedi gear.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked while helping him with the heavy armour.

He hesitated, “I want to tell you a secret.”

“A secret?” her curiosity was spiked and only then did he turn around, fully dressed as Jedi Master and General of the Republic Army, Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“Yes, there is something important I have to tell you about,” he gripped both of her hands and pulled her towards the comfortable bed, so that they could sit on it.

“What is it?” her thumb was soothingly rubbing over his gloved knuckles. They still had strong emotions for each other, but they had never acted upon them, because of Obi-Wan’s status as a ‘Jedi’ Knight. This was just one of many reasons why he wanted to tell her the truth about himself, about his true nature. He still was not sure she would understand, but he hoped she would. He didn’t want to lose her, not like he lost Qui-Gon all those years ago. Of course he WOULD let her go, if she wanted to leave that is. But still...

“It’s about me,” as if in trance did he watch the regular movements of her thumb. It was what kept him grounded in the here and now, what gave him hope and strength to continue speaking.

“Does it have to do with your rescue mission?” her voice was patient and calm. She could see how hard it was for him and she remained calm until he could say what he wanted to talk about.

“Not directly no, it is somehow connected, but I will tell you that later, if you want,” he sighed heavily, his shoulders slumped a little. “I’m, I’m a Sith, Satine...” he trailed off.

Her thumb stopped moving, but she made no further move to pull away. Actually she did not move at all, nor did she say anything for a while. Now it was Obi-Wan’s turn to wait. She had given him his time and he would give her hers.

“I,” she cleared her throat, “I don’t understand.”

Only now did he look up, his eyes meeting hers and she gasped when she saw that blue-green had turned into a shimmering gold. “I am a Sith... not one of those monsters, who are responsible for this war, mind you, but...” he exhaled through his nose.

Her slim finger wrapped slowly around his gloved ones, he too tightened his hold on her hand. Her eyes were calculating, clearly searching his face for something. He waited.

“Does it... make you a bad person?” she had tilted her head away, a little to the right.

“The Jedi would say ‘yes’.”

She hummed and her gaze left his to look at the closed door, “Is he one as well?” It was clear that she was talking about Anakin.

“No,” he shook his head, even though she couldn’t see it. “Does he know?”

“Yes,” he wondered where this conversation was going, but he counted it as a small victory, that she had not left yet.

“You use the... dark side of the Force, don’t you?” It reminded him of that night all those years ago, when the two of them had huddled close to a fire, separated from Qui-Gon and any other help. Obi-Wan had still been a student back then. He and Qui-Gon had been sent on the mission to save her from assassination attempts. He was glad they succeeded.

“Yes,” he replied again, wishing he could say more.

“Explain it to me,” she demanded from him.

He cleared his throat and his gaze settled on a picture on the wall, without really seeing it. “The dark side of the Force is impulsive and sometimes reckless. Of course it exists because of the light, light cannot be without the darkness, but it also exists because of strong emotions. Hate and fear are often believed to be the dominant ones, but love and happiness are a part of the dark side as well. It is not as restrained as the light, it loves its freedom. It is not calculable; it can be destruction and chaos, but also safety and health. The dark side is more than darkness, hate and destruction.”

“Yet the Jedi fear it, why?”

“People tend to fear what they don’t know and don’t understand. That and the Jedi are stuck in traditions and old tails. They got to know the dark side as something evil, due to the wars. Little do they know that it were monsters like Bane who destroyed everything.” “You refer to this ‘Bane’ as monster, but he was a Sith...”

“He was not a true one,” his voice sounded harsher than he intended to, “he belonged to a separate group, who had the audacity to call themselves Sith, when in truth they were corrupt people, using the dark side to their advantage, to gain power and to suppress the innocent and those who are weaker.”

“You don’t do that,” he looked at her and found that her brows were furrowed.

“No...” he was not sure if it had been a statement or a question, but the ginger haired Sith had answered nevertheless.

Her gaze found his again and to the Sith’s surprise, there was a small smile on her lips. “Then you are not a bad person...”

“Satine,” he did not come further.

“No matter what you call yourself... Jedi or Sith, you are still my knight in shining armour,” it was the closest they had ever gotten to say ‘I love you’ to each other. He gave into the desire and lifted his free hand to her cheek and she immediately leaned into the contact. “What else does it mean, for us?” she wanted to now, her voice barely above a whisper.

“The Jedi Code forbids attachment and it frowns heavily upon romantic intercourses and relationships, the Sith Code... does not.” It was all she needed to now, before she darted forward.

He was too stunned at first to respond to the pair of warm and sweet lips on his, but the young Sith quickly caught himself. He raised both his arms and held her tight against his chest, while her hands tightened in the front of his tunics. Slowly one of his gloved hands, found their way into her unbound blonde hair and he closed his eyes, their kiss full of passion, but not hectic.

They pulled apart, both breathless. Golden eyes that were slowly returning to their previous colour, locked with blue ones.

“Obi,” it was almost pleading.

“Hush, my beloved,” again he pressed his mouth to hers, stealing small kisses from her. She made a surprised but pleased noise when he pulled her onto his lap and he smiled against her mouth.

Her gip on his arms was almost painful, but also very much welcomed, for it grounded him in the reality. Both of them knew that they could not go further, not now and definitely not in Padme’s apartment with said Senator and Anakin in the next room.

Speaking of which, a loud cough parted the two lovers. Satine was bright red and hid her face in Obi-Wan’s neck, who lazily and with an innocent look on his bearded features, looked over, to the pair at the door. Anakin Skywalker looked way too amused for the Sith’s liking, but he decided that it was wiser not to say anything about it. Padme Amidala did NOT look amused, she was almost as red as her friend, clearly embarrassed to have watched those interactions. Even without reading her mind, Obi-Wan could tell that she was thinking about herself and Anakin. Her embarrassment turned to horror and the young Sith guessed that she just realized that they often made such public displays as well.

“Did we interrupt something?” the blonde Knight asked smugly, he had his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied boldly and he felt his beloved gasp in outrage against his chest, “and you are embarrassing my betrothed.” That caught the attention of all people in the room, even Satine straightened up and looked searchingly into his calm face.

“Obi-Wan?”

“Yes sweet one,” he urged her to stand, only to slip to his knees right in front of her. She gasped in shock, when he produced a small black box out of one of his pockets on his belt and he opened it, revealing a silver ring with a small blue crystal worked into it. It was a part of his saber crystal and from the increased shock in the air, the people present knew that as well. “Will you marry me? I know this is rash, but with the war going on and me being a Sith...” he trailed off.

Had Obi-Wan’s attention been on Padme, he would have seen her horrified gaze and Anakin whispering something assuring to her. He would have seen her nodding in understanding and though there was still a little doubt in her eyes, she would have smiled. But Obi-Wan did pay her no attention, he was solemnly focused on the woman who was standing in front of him, clearly struggling to form words.

“Well?” even though there was humour in his voice, his blue-green eyes started to show a hint of worry, but Satine had herself finally back under control.

She breathlessly said, “Yes.”

With shaking hands, did Obi-Wan put the ring on her finger and then – in one fluid motion – did he stand up and scoop her into his arms, spinning her around, both of them laughing merrily. The couple shared another brief kiss, before Satine was wrapped into the hug of her friend, who was congratulating her and then dragging her out of the room to discuss female stuff, probably related to the current happening.

With great amusement, did Anakin watch how his former Master sat on the bed with a relieved sigh, before letting himself fall back onto the soft mattress. He himself started to change quickly and only when he was in his normal Jedi uniform, did he join the older man on the bed, who had his eyes closed at this point.

“My congratulations Master, even though I TOLD you so.” He was lying on his stomach, propped up with his elbows and looking down at the ginger haired male.

One blue-green eye peeked up at him, “I don’t know if I should thank you or hit you right now.” He joked back and the young Skywalker laughed out loud.

“I would prefer the first option,” he bumped his arm with Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“Of course you would.”

A moment of silence passed between the men, “I didn’t know that you had planned to ask her to marry you...” there was a strange tone in his voice.

The young Sith opened both his eyes now, “That’s because I didn’t.” The blonde shot him a curious and questioning glance and Obi-Wan continued, “It was not my intention to ask her now and today... it was... a rash decision, made in the rush of the moment.”

“Yet you cut off a part of your crystal and somehow found the time and resources to get her a ring, a wonderful one, might I add.”

“I did, didn’t eye...” his gaze was distant.

Anakin’s eyes softened, “Sounds more like me and less like you.”

The bearded male sent his younger companion a smirk, “I always told you that in a real Master-Padawan team, the student learns from the teacher and the mentor also learns from the apprentice.”

Anakin huffed, “Perhaps I SHOULD have listened more to your lectures,” he looked sheepishly down at the raised eyebrow he received from his former Master before he got a Force hit to the head. “Hey!”

“Consider this as your punishment, insolent youngling; I am not in the mood for more.” He got up, quickly followed by the younger Knight. “We should get back.” Anakin only nodded in agreement.

As soon as the two Force users entered the living area again, the two females looked up from whatever they were doing. Padme quickly hid something behind her back. Obi-Wan and Anakin shared a look. They silently agreed that it would be better not to ask.

The two males users had just sat down again, in front of the two females, when a heavy knock sounded at the door to the apartment. Padme quickly went to answer it.

Obi-Wan was not surprised when Mace Windu, closely followed by Kit Fisto and Plo Koon, as well as two temple guards entered. It was a little overdone, thought the Sith Knight, but he did not comment on this either. Instead he sent Anakin a disapproving look, when he started squirming on his seat.

“Good evening Senator, Duchess, Master Kenobi and Knight Skywalker.”

Obi-Wan had figured that this was an official visit. “What brings you here on this fine evening, Mace?” Thankfully one of the ladies had removed his mask that had previously rested on the floor and had hidden it somewhere.

The Korun Master cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with this whole affair. Obi-Wan made sure to remember that. “There has been an attack on one of OUR bases on the lower levels.” The Sith furrowed his brow for show.

“Our bases? I didn’t know the Jedi had other buildings aside the temples,” Anakin said aloud.

“They are more like hideouts or... prisons for certain kinds people,” Plo Koon explained.

“What do you mean by ‘certain kinds people’?” Anakin was completely in his role.

“Sith or other Force users... perhaps traitors,” Obi-Wan explained and Plo Koon nodded.

“Alright,” the blonde Jedi said slowly, “and I guess you want us to hunt whoever was freed?”

“No exactly,” Mace was shifting uncomfortable again.

“The person that has been freed was... Qui-Gon Jinn.” Obi-Wan, who had been taking a sip from his tea cup, was coughing violently now. He bend forward and his former student hit him on the back to help as best as he could.

“What,” another cough, “what did you say?”

“Your former Master,” Kit Fisto finally said something as well.

“Qui-Gon is dead,” the Sith put his cup back on the table and stood up. He made sure to allow a healthy amount of uncertainty into the Force. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw that Anakin was standing as well now.

“No he is not,” the dark skinned Korun Master took the word again, “We kept him imprisonment on Coruscant, to have an eye on him and to ask him after his intentions with you. He was not cooperative.” The last part was added almost as an afterthought.

“I cannot believe that you kept him here and that you faked his death without telling us,” Anakin snapped. “Anakin,” Obi-Wan’s tone was warning, “don’t.”

“What? This is what they are calling trust? We had a right to know... YOU had a right to know.”

“Enough,” the Sith in disguise bellowed and the young Knight immediately shut his mouth. Obi-Wan could feel that they were actually fooling the three Council members with their acting. “I am sure that the Council had its... reasons, for keeping this affair private and secret.”

Mace nodded, “Indeed.” “Well, why did they tell us now then?” the ginger haired Sith did not answer, but gazed at the older males in front of him.

Again the Korun Master cleared his throat, but he did not say anything. It suddenly dawned on Obi-Wan, “You suspect us.”

“In our defence,” Kit Fisto cut in, you ARE of his line. It is only a precautionary measure we are taking.” The green male suddenly slid down much further on Obi-Wan’s mental list. It was his personal ranking, on top were the persons – most of them NOT Jedi – that he somewhat liked or respected. Anakin, Ahsoka and Satine were on top, as well as Dooku, Asajj and Cody too. Cad Bane was relatively high on that list as well, Mace Windu and Sifo-Dyas not so much. The latter was kind of creepy really... and he had been the leading source when he had been thought a traitor.

Both Anakin and Obi-Wan were not at all fooled by those pretty words and from the looks of it, neither were the two females in the room. They were keeping their distance, but were still listening to what was being said.

“Understandable,” the ginger haired male forced himself to say in a calm and understanding voice, “how do we proceed then?”

At this the masked Jedi turned to the two senators. Plo Koon bowed and only then did he start to speak, “Senator, Duchess, if you don’t mind me asking, how long have Master Kenobi and Master Skywalker been here?”

Satine stepped forward, head held high in a sign of surety and pride, “They have been here almost all evening, since the sixth hour.” The lie came easily to her, she was keeping her betrothed save after all.

“Is there any evidence?” Kit Fisto wanted to know. And Anakin wanted to hit him.

Apparently he was not the only one, “Evidence?” Padme was not at all pleased, “Of course there is no evidence except OUR words, or do you expect me to spy on my friends and comrades?” “He didn’t mean to insult you,” Plo Koon quickly tried to assure the angry senator, while sending an evil glare over his shoulder to the green Council member. He at least had the brain to do so. Plo Koon was also one of the few Jedi, Obi-Wan actually respected and liked. He was located somewhere in the middle of the Sith’s mental list.

“No harm done,” the Naboo senator eventually replied and once more did Plo Koon bow to her, this time in a sign of gratitude.

“Besides,” Satine cut in, “our words should be evidence enough, we are members of the Senate after all... unless you are calling us liars.” Kit Fisto was clever enough not to walk into this one.

“Of course not, duchess,” Mace Windu took a step towards the door, “We are finished here.” He motioned for the other Jedi to leave the apartment, which they of course did.

“What about us? Do you require our assistance?” the blonde Knight asked aloud.

The black skinned Korun Master sighed, “We will require your presence tomorrow before the Council.”

“What about the accusations against us?” Anakin further wanted to know.

Mace turned towards Anakin, “I think we can agree that your alibi is... enough to eliminate all suspicion.” Both Obi-Wan and Anakin mentally sighed in relief.

“This went well,” the ginger haired Sith remarked once all Jedi had left, not only the apartment, but the whole building. The duchess of Mandalore immediately walked to him and cuddled close to his side. He could feel her anxiety and relief in the Force. “It’s alright, dear one,” he mumbled into her hair that smelled like flowers. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Padme and Anakin embracing as well.

Obi-Wan put a comforting kiss on his betrothed’s forehead and only then did she pull away. “We’ll be alright,” he repeated.

“Yes,” she agreed.

#Youngster AU #Part 5 #My Fics #sith!obi-wan #sith!qui-gon #Anakin Skywalker #Ahsoka Tano #Asajj Ventress #sith!dooku #Family #Satine Kryze #padme amidala

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angelikaganz3-blog · 6 years

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hot hairy ladies - Nine Mesmerizing Examples Of Hot Hairy Pussy Photos

At the time I was close to the best shape Id ever been in, about 59, muscular build with a little bit of chub, around 210 pounds. My time with Kristie (18) took place over the summer between Senior year and College. I met her through a friend and didnt really think too much of her, she was short, big breasts, no ass to speak of but for some reason, and yet I was attracted to her. So I was there, marinating chicken and listening to music over a speaker, dancing my ass off because I like dancing, so what. Any type of action to make work go faster is an action Ill partake in. Fast forward to the next day around noon and I wanted to pursue the friendship with her because like I said, I was attracted to her somewhat and even if it didnt work out I gain a new friend. I followed her on Instagram and hit her up. After I notice her and wave hello I go back to my dancing, not realizing that she was checking me out. " Now I wasnt being serious by any means, I just have a really sarcastic sense of humor and fucking with people makes me happy. Anyways, she comes in and I see her in line and remember her awkward introduction and figured hey, why not try to be friends with her? Youre really good at dancing you know," I preened myself at this compliment, dancing is near and dear to me and to hear it from someone I was interested in really buttered my eggroll. My first time meeting her was when I was at work, I was in the back of the house marinating chicken for the next day (chipotle workers represent), and saw her come in. What do I have to lose from getting another friend? I decided to push the conversation a little bit to gauge how she would feel about a more suggestive tone, "You dont get an ass like mine by just sitting around you know, I worked hard for this work of art," Yet again, almost instantaneous response. If you loved this informative article and you would want to receive much more information about nude hairy pussy pictures assure visit our own web-page. I started with a joking ice-breaker about the night before, "What you saw last night in the restaurant stays in the restaurant, get me? Im texting her while Im getting ready, "You ready for this? Her parents werent home and she wanted to fuck. " "Hell yes," she said, "I need you here now, to feel you inside of me and know that youre going to fuck me senseless is all Ive been able to think about. The rest of the conversation is fairly irrelevant considering the details, but the basic gist of it was "coy" flirting back and forth until we got onto the topic of sex, then we starting talking about it more, blah blah blah, four days later I was getting ready to go to her house. The thing was, I was extremely nervous. "Oh, believe me, I noticed," Let it be noted at this point I was fairly confident in my ability to pull this off, and I wasnt exactly thinking with the right head if you get my meaning. I hadnt gotten laid in awhile and I was a horny 18-year-old, can you blame me? She was into it too - telling me how she was going to suck my dick dry, ride me until I couldnt stand, you get the idea. Saying it over text is one thing, having to go over is another beast entirely. She replied almost instantly, "You got it. " Again, in retrospect, I havent been thinking with the smartest mindset. I get to her house, or what I think is her house. As Im sure most of you can agree with me, over text message its a lot easier to appear as a cucumber-cool (pun intended) sex god or goddess. Spoiler alert, it didnt mellow me out. One of her neighbors had the same exact last name as her, no shit. And I was working it for all I was worth, telling her all of the filthy things I was going to do to her knowing if my mother read them it would bring her to tears. Standing outside the wrong house, eyes red as shit, and probably looking like I was going to throw up. I couldnt even find the doorbell either, so I stood out there looking like a fucking idiot for God knows how long until a middle-aged woman opened the door holding a baby asked atk hairy model directory me why I was standing outside of her house. At the time I smoked a lot of weed, and in my infinite wisdom, I decided it would be a good idea to smoke two bowls to mellow me out on my way over. " "No shit," I said to her, wondering how I got myself into this mess and how I was going to get out of it in one piece. " She yelled at me, "I think youre in the wrong place! I guess God does have a sense of humor, and its fucking sick. " I thanked her and set off up the street, and lo and behold, Kristie was walking towards me in what I think was a crop top and skirt, with a bun hairdo and looking scrumptious. We go straight to her room and she shuts the door. She turns around and moves in for a kiss. " I said nervously, about to shit myself, "I think you need to go down a couple of houses. I saw two outcomes, either I somehow fuck this girl better than shes ever had before, or I make an ass out of myself. Me, being a stoned fuckwad thought she wanted a kiss and tried to hug her. We make it back to her house, just a short walk and its a nice place. "You know Ive wanted to fuck you for awhile right? She looked at me weirdly and I thought I should explain, "I smoked some weed before I came here and Im really nervous. " I did and she got on top of me and started to unbutton my shirt. " "Me too, I havent been able to get fucked well enough in a long time. " This was news to me, with a plethora of self-image issues, I would have never guessed. I more or less told her that I was going to rock her world, etc. None of the guys I try to get with commit to being a dom well enough, and from what youve said to me youre going to be pretty great. " She laughed and said, "Dont worry about it, just go lay on my bed. But before I had a chance to respond, she leaned in and kissed me, and started grinding on my crotch. "I didnt know that actually, but Im glad we talked it out and Im here now. I forgot about my big game talk. 7 on a good day, and you bet your ass Im still self-conscious about it. As shes grinding on my crotch I start feeling around her body to see what Im working with. I was on the wrestling team at the time and I decided to just let myself go and see where this sexcapade would take me, so I flipped her over on her back and started working my pseudo-dom magic. For some reason all the dudes on this subreddit have 2 foot long PVC Pipes for cocks, which I know isnt true, but is still disheartening to read at times, though I digress. Now, a wise man once told me that I shouldnt worry about performing well in the sack, and not to worry about my dick size, because at the end of the day as long as you have fun and go loose then itll be a good time. " "Yes Daddy," she moaned, "Please fuck me. I pinned her arms above her head and growled in her ear, "If either of your hands touches me before I give you permission, youre going to regret it. Like I said, big boobies, small ass, but sexy voice and I dig her hair. I need you inside of me now. " Now in my mind, Im slowly getting into this, biting her ear, neck, you name it. Im not a hung dude by any means, were talking 5. This was the moment of truth though, my exceedingly average sized hammer of Mjolnir was about to come out for the first time, and I needed to make a good impression. She looks down and says nothing about it, was that good? " I slowly slid into her and she moaned loudly. " "Please Daddy fuck me now, I want it, I need it. She wasnt tight, and the condom was tight as hell, which told me I had more stamina than I knew what to do with. I slowly fucked her, listening to her beg for me to fuck her harder. Shed been a good girl. I braced her back with one arm so she couldnt move, and the other was pulling her hair, and I started fucking her for all I was worth. I put the condom on and start to tease her with it. I continued to thrust into her slowly while she moaned softly, both of us spent from the hard fucking we had given one another. I tortured her until I was satisfied. Then I turned her around again, where she was on top of me and I had her lay on top of me with my cock still inside her. We should keep going, let me suck your cock. " she asked me, "No, did you? Now, for all of this girls shortcomings that I would learn in the next few weeks, she remains the best person I have ever received head from, hands down. " I didnt have to be told twice. She did this thing with her tongue that drove me wild, and for some reason, she absolutely loved sucking my balls. I took off the condom, and dont worry, I had more, as she went down on me. I pull her hair harder and she screamed louder and continued to pound her pussy until I couldnt breathe. Nothing wrong in my world right now, my car could have gotten towed and I would not have given a care in the world. Hell yes I do, I just railed you and I cant breathe. After awhile of her sucking me off, she asks if I want some water. She comes in with the water and we both replenish the sweat we expelled during our last session. "FUCK FUCK YES OHMYGODDONTFUCKING STOP YES DADDY" she screams, the dog in the cage out in the living room is barking to high heaven, and Im just getting started. Gotta get ready for round two. I grab her by the throat and bend her over her bed. I fucked into her again and again, without pause and shes going absolutely wild. She left to get the water as I started to evaluate my condition. Shes still drinking her water as I storm over to her, take the cup away from her and put it down. Hickeys on my chest, face red, and dick still hard as a rock. I put on another condom and wasted no time teasing her. On the other hand, it could be completely genuine and I could potentially be fucking this girl within an inch of her life. " Shes screaming, "FUCK THIS SLUTS LITTLE PUSSY! She asked me again, "Did you cum yet? " Now, I dont know about you guys but what shes saying is making me feel kind of strange. " "I wont argue with it. How long had I been gone? "PLEASE KEEP FUCKING ME DADDY! I continued fucking her until yet again I couldnt breathe, and we fell into bed next to hairy women sites each other. It feels scripted, overdone, and not really meaningful. Sure mom, let me just finish fucking this girls brains real quick and Ill be home in two shakes of a lambs tail. Mom is asking if Ill be home for dinner. She needs me to come home. Im making a really good first impression on you for whatever reason. It was a school night and I needed to do homework. When can we get together again? Realistically though I did need to go home naked girls with hairy pussy soon. I didnt know if I wanted to. " "Cant you stay a little longer? "I cant, Im sorry, she wants me home for dinner. " she asks me with hope in her eyes. " "That sounds okay," she said, sounding somewhat defeated. "Im not sure, why dont we play it by ear? "Ill talk to you later," I said as I was walking out to my car. I would fuck Kristie again, a few months down the line against my better judgment, but thats a story for another time. "Give me a kiss before you go. " she asks me as Im putting on my pants. " Woah there miss, I dont know if that was part of the deal, but before I could say anything we had already locked lips and she was tonguing my mouth like she was trying to start a fucking car. This was my first time writing here and any constructive criticism is welcome. Something was telling me this girl was bad news.

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