#perhaps he will hurt everyone else. but jack? he loves his son. he’d do anything for his son.

[quietwingsinthesky]

supernatural should be more about people getting cannibalized. not enough of it in the show. metaphorically and literally. someone should eat those winchesters.

[hotchley]

For your 500 thing: 4 from the angst list with Hotch and anyone else, platonically? I like the prompts you've chosen too. Very angsty haha

Hehe thank you! I chose Reid, because it worked so... yeah. This is not to be seen as me infantilising Reid or as H Crit because it's not. People say things they don't mean when they're hurting. There will come a time when Reid doesn't hesitate and Hotch forgives himself. It's just not written here.

It went over 1.5k... let's just ignore that. Umm... Set sometime between Nameless, Faceless and Haunted. There's no real comfort.

4: "shut up! please. just shut up."

Trigger Warnings: past child abuse, intrusive thoughts, references to canon-typical events and violence

read on ao3!

With hindsight, moving Spencer to the same hospital as Aaron was not the smartest idea the BAU had ever had. Not when traumatic and painful events caused them to react in opposite ways. When Spencer was hurt, he didn't stop talking, so terrified that if there was even the slightest indication that he was weak, everyone would leave. And when Aaron was hurt, he completely shut down, still scared that making his existence known would lead to hurt.

But at the time, they had only been thinking of Derek. He had been running himself ragged, trying to manage the BAU in Aaron's absence, and caring for both his teammates who were in different hospitals, because he was coincidentally, the only person that either of them would listen to.

Perhaps they were more alike than anyone gave them credit for.

So Spencer was moved into the same room as Aaron, because when the team came, they came to see both of them, and it was apparently good for the two patients to socialise with each other and try to maintain their bond. At least, that was what everyone said to them. In reality, it was just easier to only have to have certain conversations once. Especially the ones about Foyet.

Because even though both of them would be out of the field for a while, and had lost so much of the independence they prided themselves on, the situations were not the same and they never would be. Spencer had been shot in the leg trying and succeeding in saving a man, and the perpetrator had been arrested. He had gotten justice.

Aaron had been stabbed nine times in his home, the place he had a right to feel safe in, by a man so evil that there was no chance of ever reasoning with him. Foyet had gotten away, and he'd taken Haley and Jack with him. The only people Aaron seemed to live for, were gone. He hadn't gotten any sort of closure. Nobody seemed to understand that, because everyone kept saying him and Spencer could relate to each other. But they couldn't. And he was sick of hearing it.

But he tried to hide that bitterness. Spencer wouldn't have been shot if he had been there. He would have been the extra set of eyes needed to finish the letters, and they would've worked it out sooner. They would've all been fine, if he had done anything other than frozen when the bullet wedged itself in the wall beside his hair, close enough to make his ear ring painfully. His anger was irrational, and the result of trauma. Everyone else understood his emotions were all-consuming and overpowering, but he didn't. To him, the anger and resentment were just another sign he was becoming his father.

He wasn't. But he would never allow himself to believe that.

Spencer knew that his and Hotch's situations were different. That Hotch blamed himself for what had happened to Haley and to him. That Hotch was hiding how he truly felt, probably to protect him. That things were going to explode sooner rather than later. He just didn't know how much sooner than expected it would end up being.

Rossi had swung by in the morning, and that visit had set Aaron on edge. Rossi was trying to help, he was, but his method of doing it wasn't helpful. It never had been. Not for someone like Aaron, who needed something that was not his best friend telling him how the BAU had been fine without him. Or how the children seemed to be fine. Or how victims could recover.

When Rossi left, Reid took the crutches beside his bed and hobbled over to sit in the chair that he'd vacated. They had both been encouraged to try and be mobile without going beyond their limit. Only Spencer had listened.

"If you want him to stop talking, you can always tell him," he said gently.

Aaron turned away. "He's just trying to help."

"But he's not. I think we can all see it."

"Spencer, I don't know what you're trying to do but-"

"I don't care if you resent me. I care that you're lying."

"I'm not lying."

"Really? So if I asked you whether or not you resent me, you could look me in the eye and say you don't? If I asked you whether you blame yourself for my injury, you would say no, and mean it? If I asked you who was responsible for Haley and Jack going into WitSec, you would say Foyet? If I asked you how you feel, would you say hopeless and angry? Would you?" He snaps.

Aaron stares, and Spencer feels the heat rise to his cheeks. Hotch is still his superior.

"I'm sorry, that was out of line."

"No, it's- you're right. I am lying. But-" he swallows, unused to being so vulnerable, especially with someone like Spencer, "I have to. Lie that is. I can't be honest. Not about this. Not with these feelings."

"Why? You've been put through horrific trauma. I think you're entitled to feel like shit. I feel like crap."

Aaron looks at Spencer, in all his hopeful innocence, and understands the subtle invitation to be honest for once in his life. To let someone else save him. To have a normal conversation, with no ulterior motives or secret conditions. To have someone just care for him because they love him, not because they want anything in return. It's that final realisation that makes him take a leap of faith.

"Because if I let myself feel the anger, I will never stop, and then I will never be any better than my father." The words taste like failure, and he hates himself for saying them as soon as they leave his mouth. Who is he, to do this to a subordinate? To make someone else take responsibility for his issues? He wants to take the words back as soon as realisation dawns on Spencer, but he can't.

All he can do is close his eyes, and pretend he is somewhere else where whatever comes next cannot touch him.

"You know those thoughts don't determine who you are," Spencer says, and nothing about his tone has changed. He still cares about Aaron. Aaron, who has to blink back tears because he always forgets how many terrible things this boy has seen.

He tries to tell Spencer to stop, that he doesn't deserve to be called a good person, but the words won't come.

"I can tell you don't believe me. Well let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a FBI agent that panicked so much during their gun qualification that they failed. And the man that had been practicing them, who had every right to lash out, just nodded and asked if it was his fault. If there was anything he could do to help. And then he trusted that agent with his life. Without hesitating," Spencer said. It felt like he was talking to Henry.

Aaron needs him to shut up. He cannot hear this story. It is his life, so he knows how it ends, but he cannot hear that ending right now. Not when the loss of his family is still so raw and painful. Not when it consumes his every waking moment.

"And after the case was over, he raced to the hospital, and he stayed in the waiting room until his son was born because he refused to leave his wife for a second longer than necessary, even though she had given her blessing multiple times for him to go save people. She said that he changed more nappies during his paternity leave than most men do in their lives."

"Spencer-" Aaron manages to say.

"Abused children can break the cycle. They have broken the cycle. They continue to do so. You said that once. Do you remember? You told Vincent Perotta that not every victim goes on to become a killer. Because some grow up to catch them and you are one of them, you just-"

"Shut up! Please. Just shut up." He doesn't mean to shout. He doesn't mean to make Spencer flinch. He doesn't mean to sound angry. He doesn't mean to say the words. He doesn't mean to do any of those things, but he does, and he won't ever forget how terrified Spencer looks.

He did that. He did that, with nothing more than his words, and he cannot believe what he has done, but he has, and it's a terrible thing. And everything Spencer just said has been disproved. Everything.

"I'm sorry," Spencer whispers, turning away.

"No. No, please don't be sorry. You've not done anything wrong. Spencer, look at me. Please. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean-"

"Yes you did. Don't lie to me."

And Aaron has lied about enough. He won't lie anymore.

"I am sorry," he says, even though it won't ever be enough.

Spencer smiles slightly, but then he goes over to his own bed. He closes his eyes, and pretends to sleep. He carries on pretending when Aaron walks over for the first time in three days, and kisses his forehead, much like he always does for Jack. He carries on pretending as Aaron sighs, and whispers an explanation too honest for repetition.

Aaron truly is sorry. Spencer truly does forgive him. The words are never said again, not to him, but that's the worst part. No matter what either of them do, Spencer will always remember and hesitate, and Aaron will never forget or forgive himself.

[words-for-holland]

Quarantine Series: Silence is Golden?

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Summary: Tom and Y/N don’t get into a lot of fights, but this one will leave you speechless...literally.

Check the Rest: Burnt Out | A New Look | Secret Cuts & Kisses | Breaking Friendships |The Birthday Week | Movie Night

A/N: Hey! Did you know I created a Masterlist?! You can view here (X)!

Every couple has their good and bad days. Some people will even say it’s healthy to have a little dispute once and awhile. For Y/N and Tom, the bad days just kept on coming. Maybe it was due to the work piling up on Y/N’s plate lately, or the fact that Tom was stressing about going to Berlin in 2 weeks for his work. Either way, both of them were under pressure, and with everything going on, it’d be no surprise that even the smallest things would irritate them.

“Tom I told you to put your luggage off to the side. One of us is going to trip with all this shit in our room.” Y/N scolded as she pushed the black luggage to the side of wall.

Tom was sitting in bed, rolling his eyes at his fiance’s comment and went back to focusing on his script. “Well, maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal if you just cleaned the room every weekend like you were supposed to do.” He grumbled as he highlighted his lines.

“I was working the entire weekend. I told you I had a huge release to prep for and last time I rememebered I’m your fiance not your maid. It wouldn’t kill if you could just do some of the chores in the house instead of having me, Harry, Harrison, or Tuwaine do it for you.” She argued, glaring down at Tom with her arms crossed. “Just cause your some hot shot celebrity doesn’t mean you can just sit there and do jack shit.”

Tom looked at her with surprise and anger. He just about had it up to here with her nagging. Tom loves Y/N, but sometimes, like tonight, she was really getting on his nerves, and the next few things he says to her were not so pretty. “Can you just shut up?! You’re always telling me what to do, what not to do, to stop doing this and stop doing that, and god the never-ending chatter that comes out of your mouth.” He spits out not even paying attention to how Y/N was reacting. “Some people actually do prefer some peace and quiet. God, I really can’t wait to go to Berlin just so I don’t have to hear that god awful nagging of yours.” Tom shakes his head as he looks back at his script, until he realized what just came out of his mouth...complete and utter bullshit that he didn’t mean.

It was Y/N’s turn to be surprised. In fact she was speechless, not really knowing what to say to his rant. It hurt a lot, as if her heart had just broken in a million pieces. If there was one thing you needed to know about Y/N, it was that she valued everyone’s view and opinion of her. So, you can best believe that if someone had a problem with her, she would not take it lightly. When it comes from the person you love the most...well...one can’t even begin to fathom how much it could hurt.

Tears were forming and streaming down her eyes, as small sniffles start to escape. Her tiny hands balling up into a fist. She wasn’t just upset, she was furious. “Well, if thats how you feel then, I don’t know why you’d want to be with a person that doesn’t shut up...Cause clearly I’m not good enough.”

Tom starts to sit up on the bed and lean towards her, trying to apologize profusely, but it was a lost cause that couldn’t be taken back. She runs out of the room with her stuff as she moves to the guest room to cry herself to sleep. Tom stays in their bedroom as he looks up at the ceiling with a disappointed face. “What have I done?” He whispers to himself, only praying they would be able to make up in the morning.

The next day, Tom wakes up extra early to prepare a ‘Sorry I’m such a div. Please forgive me’ breakfast with chocholate chip pancakes, bluerberry smoothies, and apple turnovers from her favorite coffeshop in London. And if that wasn’t enough...he had also brought her a bouquet of red roses. He awaited for her to come down, with everything set. As the boys came by to eat their share of the breakfast, Y/N comes down to akward silence. Everyone staring at her and Tom standing in the middle smiling with flowers in hand.

“Morning Y/N.” The boys say in unison.

“Morning boys...Tom.” Y/N mumbes the last word as she makes her way. They continue to talk and eat amongst themselves as Y/N looks for a seat to sit at, but sadly the only one available is the one next to Tom. He looks at her with his brown puppy dog eyes, silently pleading for her to sit next to him. Y/N gets the message as she rolls her eyes, and tales the seat. He present her the flowers once again, smiling off his boyish charm. “Darling, Im so sorry for the way I acted I didn’t mean it. Please don’t be mad at me. I love you so much.”

Y/N takes the flowers and nods, as she goes back to her breakfast. She ate rather quickly as to make sure she didnt have to deal with anyone and went straight back to the guest room. Tom slouches in his seat, sighing in defeat. “Great the silent treatment.” He says out loud.

“Damn, Tom you must have really fucked up.” Tuwaine said as he took a bite of his pancakes.

“Yeah mate, what did you do?” Harrison asked, intrigued by his best friend’s dilemma.

“You couldn’t hear them? They fought because Tom couldnt do a simple job and then called Y/N a talkative nagging piece of work” Harry answered him, stifiling a laugh. “Im sure the whole world could have heard him.”

“You also forgot, how he said he’d rather be in Berlin than be here with her.” Tuwain mentioned.

Tom glares at his younger brother and Tuwaine, giving them a good shove on the shoulder. “Hey, don’t be mad at me. I’m not the one that had to get his shit together.” Harry defends taking his last bite.

“What do I do? She wont even talk to me and I went through all this work to apologize to her.” Tom asks as he stares at the floor solemnly. “I don’t want her to be mad at me.”

“I don’t know mate. Maybe just earn her trust again. Im sure youll both work it out...you always do.” Harrison reassures him as he makes his way to wash the dishes.

Later that night, Tom passes by Y/N as she makes her way to the bathroom across their bedroom. Tom tried his best to set up the bed as if she was staying with him, fluffing the pillows, pulking down the comforters, and turning up the AC. As Y/N finishes up, she sees him standing at the edge of the bed, waiting for her to join him. “Please? I cleaned up the room and gave you your favorite pillow because you know you cant sleep without it.” He pleads, pouting with his lower lip sticking up.

Y/N looks at the tidy room and the pillow he left her. She smiles when she takes notice of the the one pillow with flowers and ripped edges. It was her favorite pillow since she was 5 and sworn to everyone that it was the only pillowcase she could ever sleep peacefully in. With the thought and gesture Tom made today, Y/N figured it was the least she could do, though it didn’t mean he was forgiven compeltely yet. Tom smiles at his first victory as he climbs in the bed with her. He tries to snuggle closer and wrap his stron arm across her waist, whispering “I love you and I really am sorry.”

Y/N wasn’t too comfortable getting this close still, and ultimately took his hand that was on her waist and dropped it to his side. Tom, felt a slight hinge of sadness when she did that. She never refused his cuddles and anytime they had a fight they would always make up before rhe end of the day. He sighs loudly in silence. Y/N turns around to face his back, and leans over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, which takes him by surprise. “I love you” she whispers, going back to her side of the bed.

The next day, Tom decides to take a quick trip to his parents house, who greet him with ipen arms. Though, both his parents, Paddy and Sam, notice the distress on his face. “What’s wrong son?” Tom’s mum asked with worry.

“Mum, Dad...I messed up.” He cries. “ I was just really stressed out this past week, with the movie, and the fans, and thinking about how I have to leave Y/N for Berlin...I-I- just said a lot of stupid things to her that I didnt mean.”

Tom’s mom rubs her son’s back as she tries to console him and calm his breathing. “There. There. Its going to be okay. You know Y/N loves you so much. Im sure you’ll both get through this.”

“That’s the thing mum. I don’t know if we can. She won’t even talk to me. I made her breakfast gave her flowers and even cleaned our room liek she asked me too. I don’t know what else to do to show her that I truly sorry.I told her I can’t wait to go to Berlin so I did have to hear her talk, but thats far from the truth. I don’t want to leave her when we’ve had all this time together.”

“Hmm...perhaps you should do the things that she doesn’t ask you to do. You know Y/N is also stressed with her job as well, she might not have time to get around to all the things that need to be done. Also tell her how you really feel besides that you’re sorry and you love her. You know both of you have had a hard week and there’s a lot of feelings bottled up inside. Just be honest with your feelings. I know you didn’t mean it and Im sure she knows too.”

Tom smiles at the last sentence, realizing the two haven’t really committed to the rules they promised each other, be honest and communicate with each other. “You’re right, Mum. I cant even remember the last time we really talked.” Tom got up up quickly whiping away the dry tears. “I’m gonna go make things right with Y/N. Thank you for everything. I love you.” Tom hugs his mother, before he makes his way ready to set things right.

As he pulls up to the house, Tom is ince again by the door with flowers in hand. Y/N sliently looks at him as she tilts her head curious as to why he’s on his toes...and with more flowers in hand. “Look you don’t have to say anything because I’m gonna be doing all the talking right now.”

Y/N looks at him in surprise, intrigued to hear what he has to say this time. “Y/N. Im know. im such a dumbass, clueless, and careless bloke who didn’t stop to think about your feelings and the things you wanted from me. I should have helped around more, I should asked how you were , and I definitely should have pushed my luggage to the side of the wall like you asked me too many times.” He says chuckling nervously. “And I know I fucked up, but Im really going to to try to make it an effort to listen more, and help you as much as I can. And Im so sorry for being so distant, I just I had a lot on my mind and the fact that I have to leave you, in two weeks when this has been the longest we’ve spent time together, it made me more sad.” Y/N looks at him with a sympathetic smile, almost ready to accept his apology. “So look, I know you’re probably still mad and everything, but Im really hoping this makes it up for you because I really do love you. Every single thing about you and theres only two more weeks before I leave and I want to spend every day, hour, minute, and second with you.”

There’s silence in the air as Tom looks into her eyes, trying to find some answer. “Every day, hour, minute, and second?” She questions him smiling. Tom’s face lights up with the brightest smile hes ever out on. He drops the flowers and hugs her even more tightly than he did with his mother, spinning her around. Nothing sounded better than hearing her laugh, it’s been far too long. He cups her face, kissing her passionately only to pull away and move the stray hairs from her face. Taking in every single detail of her face. “Yes. Ever day, hour, minute, and second..so lets not waste anymore time.” He grabs her hand as he rushed her to their room.

“Wait, wait, wait!” She yells with laughter. Tom sulks and groans, “Aw, what now?”

“You didnt even ask if I forgave you, yet?”

“Well...” Tom says pretending to think “Do you forgive me?”

Y/N looks at him, leaving a chaste kiss on his lips. “Of course I do.”

“Good. Now let’s go. Got to show you how much I appreciate and love you.” Tom smiles as he pulls her away.

Taglist:

@hollanddolanfangirl @parkerspillow @joyleenl @kihyunwifes

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

The Talk - J.M.

A/n: So we’re only doing make readers now huh? HECK YEAH! This app needs more anyway. Keep in mind I DO non-binary and female readers, so you can ask for those too!

Request: “Hi 👋🏻 could I request a vera stone son reader x Jack Morton flirts with him but gets nervous when he see’s his mom aka the best grand magus ever. And maybe Vera sits jack down for the if you hurt my son they will never find your body talk. Thank you and your amazing and I love you ❤️” by anonymous

Word Count: 2600+

Masterlist

Vera Stone would swear to Pluto and back that she had no favorites, but everyone knew that was a lie. She had a soft spot for Jack Morton, and Y/n Stone, her son, had been the makings of her heart his entire life. Of course. What mother didn't favor her son over everyone else?

Unfortunately, Jack was having a hard time. After he'd gotten his memories taken, he had made friends with Y/n. His interest in Y/n had driven him away from Gabrielle and though they were playing friends, it was never a dating situation. When he got his memories back, things got a lot more complicated because Y/n wasn't just  part of the Order- he was the son of the Grand Magus. Things got progressively worse as Praxis became a problem and the whole world nearly ended. Again.

When Hamish was kidnapped, so was Y/n as they'd been together at the time. And though they'd gotten Hamish back rather quickly, the same wasn't true for Y/n. He was in the hands of Praxis and they weren't letting up on why they still had him. It wasn't until Salvador finally exposed what spell she wanted in exchange for Y/n that it really became what she meant by leverage. The problem was, even though her mom instincts were screaming, Vera knew she couldn't give these people this spell.

Then Vera did something really stupid.

She shot Salvador and killed her.

Alyssa had been at odds since her girlfriend had been sucked into the demon realm and her magic had been iffy. After Vera tore her down for not having magic and then it was exposed WHY she didn't, she felt betrayed. Vera had been bending backwards to protect Jack, Hamish, and Randall, but easily wrote Alyssa off for something that was Vera's fault. Not to mention she obviously had no care for Lilith. In her mind, Vera was worse than Edward Coventry and she wouldn't see reason. She didn't give her a chance to explain or fix her mistakes. In fact, the second Vera got the chance to do either, Alyssa disappeared with Praxis. Which left her on the side of those who were holding Y/n hostage.

During that time, Alyssa talked to Y/n a lot. The boy seemed fine with listening, watching her carefully as Alyssa went on and on about all of the mistakes of his mother and all those who had come before her. She had endless proofs as to how the Order was corrupt by power and selfishness, and Y/n stayed silent because... well she was right. In a way. Also he knew that arguing that people made mistakes wasn't going to get anywhere with her. Not to mention the book was magically enchanted to corrupt those in leadership... but he didn't talk about that.

It was when Alyssa began talking bad about the wolves that Y/n struggled to keep quiet.

"He's so self righteous and puffed up. Like he knows everything and does nothing wrong. Always has the right drink. Ever think he does it just because he's a drunk?" Alyssa would begin, rolling her eyes.

"He's trying his best," Y/n would reply immediately. It was the first time Alyssa had gotten him to speak. The first time anyone had. "And despite all the shit that would probably throw anyone else off, he's still a good leader and does what's right mot of the time. He's loyal and smart and hard working."

It was later when Alyssa tried the tactic again. She ranted about Gabrielle and Edward and the necromancer twins they'd dealt with a while back. She went on about names Y/n didn't know, and even his own mother. But the second she mentioned, "God he's never serious! He constantly goofs around and flirts and is a total idiot. He lets his emotions guide him and it makes him sloppy. If he used just a shred of logic he might actually get somewhere. Like his whole hatred of the Order even though they were the only ones with the resources to help them find Lilith. Even when some of us were really trying, he still refused to cooperate."

"To be fair," Y/n snapped. "We have a record of betrayal, power plays, and selfishness, as you've so generously bestowed upon me for the last while. He actually cares a lot and that's why he's so emotionally driven. Because he cares. Not enough people these days care. Not enough people these days FEEL and express and dare to stay upbeat in a world that takes anyone with a smile and seeks to destroy them with a deep rage. Like happiness is a sin or something."

The violent reaction to Alyssa insulting the Knights was unexpected. She never made herself talk badly about Lilith - she loved her after all, and talking bad about the possibly dead when that person was your whole world... terrible idea. She did however crack the case when she mentioned Jack to Y/n. "He has this hero complex that makes him so... annoying. He isn't the center of every problem. Not everything is about him. He doesn't have to save everyone. Not everything is Jack's Mission or something, you know? Maybe he should get over himself just a little."

"Shut the fuck up." Y/n's head was hanging forward, eyes on his lap. Before, he usually went on rants and berated Alyssa for talking badly about the wolves. What was it about Jack that made him not even be able to look at her? Was it that because his mother had trained him to never show weakness to the enemy, he was trying to cover up an especially touchy topic? Was it simply that he agreed with Alyssa enough that he had nothing more to say? Or perhaps he was nervous to expose something if he talked too much about Jack.

Whatever the reason was, Y/n had never acted like this before. He'd always been the professional, withdrawn kind of person. He was his mother's right hand. He kept to himself and rarely talked, if ever. He was quiet. A wallflower. People often wondered if he was capable of emotions at all, the same way they wondered about Vera. Except that he never got to the point that he was cracked enough to expose himself. Even when his mother faltered in her place of leadership to keep the Order and herself and everyone she cared about together at the same time, Y/n still held strong.

What was it about Jack Morton that he was always the weak spot in everyone's armor, no matter how tough or thick or well taken care of it was? He seemed to find cracks like a hungry dog hunting for food. It was kind of impressive actually.

Alyssa prodded at this weakness a lot. She mentioned Jack a lot. Every time Alyssa and Jack crossed paths, Alyssa would tell Y/n every detail of it. Force him to look at her as she said it. It was never a cruelty though. She could tell that he liked to hear it, and her act was from a point of curiosity only.

Then Salvador died and Alyssa rose to leadership. She tried people out to see if the fur would take to anyone, but it never did. Until...

Finally Vera broke. With the Tartarus Blasts threatening to coalesce into an Apocalypse Blast and wipe everyone out, on top of Alyssa taunting how close to making Y/n she was, Vera couldn't hold out anymore. So she brought him along to the exchange. Y/n came in, uninhibited and willing, but stayed by Alyssa's side. No one could place what exactly was wrong. He still nodded to his mother and seemed to be perfectly himself. He even rolled his eyes when Alyssa went on about her purpose, and got visibly angry when Vera told her what the spell actually did and Alyssa ignored her.

Yet, Y/n didn't act out against Alyssa either. He seemed to even be protective of her. Perhaps they were... dating? Or he had some feelings for her. Vera couldn't imagine Alyssa getting over Lilith like that but perhaps Alyssa had changed even more than Vera had thought.

It wasn't until Alyssa turned on Vera to kill her that Y/n made a move against her. "We made a deal," he reminded her. "Are you about to break your end?"

Exhaling sharply through her nose, Alyssa looked away. "She deserves to die."

"No she doesn't," Y/n snapped. It was the first time he'd defended his mother to Alyssa. It was the first time he could. "She made a mistake, but she's a good leader and she has a dream that a lot of people believe in." Y/n grabbed her shoulders. "I know you've been through a lot, Lys. I know you've been hurt by every single person you trusted or looked up to or anything along those lines. Betrayed. Left behind. Let down. I know how much pain you're in. You know I do." She sighed a little softer. "I also know that killing my mother will give you no peace, and you know it too."

Alyssa looked at him for a long time. "What, no speech about it's not who I am?"

Y/n chuckled at that. "It's not my right to tell you who you are. Only you can do that. But I'm telling you, revenge is a slippery slope, and we have a deal. Making an enemy of me will be bad for you now and in the future, if you somehow manage to escape. I can be an ally, and I would like to be. Not to mention that whatever you're looking for, you will not find in this."

For some reason, Alyssa believed what he was saying. Her lips curved in a frown. "Promise me you won't leave me, Y/n. Or betray me."

At that, the boy hesitated. "You know I want to stay."

She nodded. "I know that. But, we can be friends?"

Y/n smiled. "Anytime you need me, Lys. You know where to find me. We'll find Lilith, and we'll bring her home, and-"

It was that time that Jack Morton decided to join the party. He quickly caught them up on Lilith being back, but the whole demon situation going on with her. But he also told Alyssa she had to run. "I know how much you want to see her, Alyssa, but Midnight is coming here to kill you. He took over Gabrielle- what are you doing, Y/n?"

Alyssa had not moved a muscle. She didn't even seem worried. Y/n was removing his clothes, and that seemed to put her at ease. "Hello to you too, Jack." Y/n chuckled. "I would like to update you on how Alyssa and I here became friends." He pulled off the shirt he had after shedding the flannel he'd been unbuttoning, and kicked off his shoes. "She was looking for a champion. I needed to be able to get her out of here without killing people I cared about. We negotiated and then we talked and now we're super cool."

Jack's eyes went wide as Vera gasped. "You're-?"

"Yes," Y/n confirmed. He closed his eyes and felt the change take him. His body grew and widened until he was a wold. A werewolf. Alpha, of all of them.

"You're going to fight Midnight?" Jack demanded. "You could kill Gabrielle!"

"No," Alyssa corrected him, though she didn't know what had happened since she'd been gone that Jack cared about Gabrielle being alive or not. "Watch."

The doors busted open and there stood Midnight. The eyes of the two wolves locked and the temperature of the room rose about ten degrees. Jack groaned and clutched his hand over his heart. He shifted right there, whimpering on the ground. Midnight held, for a second. Another second. Yet another. Then he broke and looked away and Y/n stood tall and howled. Jack breathed in relief and Midnight took running off.

Alyssa was safe.

Both boys morphed back into humans. "I don't know who he'll go after, but everyone we care about should be safe, so no worries." He looked at Alyssa. "Go." She nodded and took off, alive and well. Jack cleared his throat, a wide smirk on his face. "What?" Y/n asked, eyebrows knitting in intrigue.

"You're whole take over there," Jack mused. "It was super hot actually."

Vera cleared her throat and it was then both boys realized they were naked and blushing, in front of Vera Stone who was Y/n's mother. Gross and awkward to say the least. "Sorry," Y/n dismissed. Vera glared Jack down and he seemed to become suddenly awkward and tense. "Mom, we're gonna head back to the Den to catch everyone up on the situation and check up on Lilith."

"And get dressed," Jack added in a rush. Y/n tried not to laugh at him.

"I'll be back later," Y/n told her.

That was new. His whole life, Y/n had always been second at the very best. Usually he was even further down the list, fine with living in the shadows because it allowed him to learn and live while dodging most stressors and dramas. He always relinquished dominance to his partner in a project, or the other person in the scenario, or his mother. Confident leadership was a good look on him. As much as his comment had bothered Vera, this role fit her son well and she couldn't say she wasn't proud. "Sounds good to me."

"Will you be okay?" Y/n asked gently. She hesitated then nodded and he returned it before looking at Jack. The boys both sobered before shifting back into wolves and booking it to the Den.

After everything settled and they started to get over shock and try and figure out what to do next, Jack took a second to pull Y/n aside. "What is it, Morton?" Y/n sighed.

"I'm just... I wanted you to know that I'm really glad you're back. Safe. I've been worried sick about you and with everything else going on- I mean I guess my worry is nothing against you being the one captured, but- Look I just-"

"I get it," Y/n reassured. He had a small smile on his face. "You know, bonding with Alpha helped me finally understand the power of being just a little vulnerable. Maybe we can figure this out... sometime? I doubt there will be a good time because it seems we're always facing some shit or another, but maybe we can get coffee some time around all the chaos?"

Jack smiled. "I would like that."

"Cool. See you tomorrow morning at 8am. Don't be late, Morton." With that, Y/n walked away.

"I won't!" He called after the boy.

The familiar sound of Vera clearing her throat sounded and Jack felt himself freeze and stiffly turn to face her. "Hey!" The word was long and high pitched in his mouth. Awkward and full of tension. He was never as afraid of her killing him as he was now.

"Let me get one thing straight," Vera snapped, pointing at him. "That is my son." That alone hit home. Jack knew better than most what having a son meant to Vera after she'd lost her daughter. "He has been through hell and I have had to do things I hate myself for to bring him home safe. I let loose self destruction incarnate to bring him home safely. Do not think for even a second that because I have some soft spot for you, that I will not be willing to gut you with my bare hands and teeth if you hurt him. My non-magic, non-werewolf, fingernails will carve you a new face. Is that clear?" Jack could only manage a nod. “Good." She stood straight. "Don't be late, Morton. My son cares a lot about punctuality." And with that she left.

Despite everything, Jack managed to find humor in the situation. No matter how much Vera Stone scared him, Y/n scared him more. He made Jack feel things that terrified him. Things he hadn't even begun to touch until since Alyssa. Things that had been warped and ruined for him because of Gabrielle. Things that he was now wanting for the second time in his entire life. Vera was scary, but Y/n? Y/n was terrifying.

Like mother like son I suppose.

[kiaraspeaks]

Anansi x Female!Reader: In a flash we'll meet again.

You hope that he understands one day, his father is a complicated man. Man? That's a stretch of the imagination right there. You loved Anansi, loved him more than anything and anyone else in the world, besides Charlie, but, you couldn't stay with him. Children only are able to see what you put in front of them, and Anansi painted just enough of a vision of himself to hide his world from your child. Children. What a fucking mess that is. There are days that you wished that you hadn't met him but that's a pointless line of thought, Anansi desired you, to know you, to have Charlie, long before any war. He may have driven you up a wall at one point but he was family, and you knew that despite any differences when you called he would always come.

After all that's how you met, you weren't trying to summon a God. But praying for somebody, anybody, to stop this man chatting you up in the bar. You came for a quick drink at Randy's Divebar, Anansi materialized nearby (or perhaps he was waiting in the wings the whole time, just waiting, as he had done your entire life) what might be a hideous green and yellow floral pattern worked for him, long lean lines that might make someone else seem imposing made him even more inviting despite the man yammering on and on about himself.

"Bothering you?" He said, he inhaled on the cigarette and blew smoke into the face of the man hassling you. Whichever meathead that was hassling you didn't take kindly to it, but Anansi didn't care, had never cared, didn't care that he was thinner and obviously more breakable. He out maneuvered everyone before ever setting foot in any room, that included you too. "Move."

"Or what?" They said, he'd been hunched over you for the better part of the night but he was standing up rod straight and cutting an imposing figure. First, Anansi smiled, something you learned much later masks more pain and irritation than any human body could tolerate. Next, he picked up his glass and drained it and turned it over in his hands a few times. You heard it, the sound of the glass shattering, the crunching of the bones in his face, and finally saw the mess of the meathead's face. They ran out screaming, bleeding and crying. You should've been positively frightened but you weren't. Not even as Anansi plucked glass out of hands and tossed it into the drink of the man who had annoyed you.

"That wasn't necessary." You said and nursed your drink. The bartender didn't say anything, clearly they had some type of understanding. They moved further down to tend to other customers.

"Maybe so," He said, the cigarette perched perfectly in the corner of his mouth. He pulled out the splintered shards of glass like it didn't hurt, the blood didn't bother him. He raised his bloody hand and signaled for two drinks. "But it was fun."

"For you."

"Well maybe I'll have to work harder to impress you next time." He said.

"What makes you think there will be a next time, and why would you try?" You said, he smirked, didn't smile. His smirks were harmless, adorable, thoughtful. It's dangerous to know a God so closely. You would call it fate, but Anansi hated such words. After all he thought the only stories that were written in stone were penned by him.

"You're Mr. Nancy's girl, why not try?"

"And who is Mr. Nancy?" You asked, two drinks are placed between you both and then a small container of gauze. Anansi grabbed the gauze and one of the drinks, he poured the liquor over his wounded hand and allowed it to drip perfectly into the glass with the bloody shards. He doesn't wince, sigh or suck in deep breaths of air as the booze washes over his wounds.

"Someone important, snappy dresser, charming, and I hear that he might even be single."

"If I'm his girl how is he single?" You asked,he wrapped his hand with an ease that told he got into these types of scuffles often. Again, you learn Anansi doesn't take on any war that isn't already won, that includes your heart.

"Well that sounds like a proposal if I ever heard one." He said.

"You're Mr. Nancy?"

"My friends call me Mr. Nancy, but you, you can call me whatever you want."

"What's your name?" You asked. Another charming smirk, no madness in the eyes, he tapped the growing mountain of ash into the glass with the shards and the blood and tainted alcohol, he killed the light on the cigarette and topped .

"Have dinner with me and I will tell you." He said.

"You don't even know me, Mr. Nancy."

"Well, I want to get to know you, otherwise we wouldn't still be having this conversation." He said, "Do you want to get to know me?"

"I think so." You said, he held out his undamaged hand to you and you shook it.

"My name is Anansi, and it's wonderful to finally meet you." He said and bowed his head and kissed your hand, and when he asks your name you tell him. You don't know it then but you love him, someone so in love with who you are, starting with your name and every other story that you're apart of. You expected dinner much later, perhaps in a couple days but it didn't take much prodding to get you out. Randy's food at the divebar wasn't very good and you didn't feel like fiddling with the oven tonight.

----

You wished that you could properly explain to your son that his father was a God and that made him half and if he chose have kids that would make them a fraction and yet with all the potential of full Gods. There just never is enough time and never a correct way. Even you struggle at times, Anansi appears to just be a man, impeccably dressed, always on time, and two steps ahead at any given time. You had time to walk away, if anyone could imagine doing such a thing, but you knew something was diffferent, something was wrong. Anansi warned you that he got mixed up with some bad people, that bad times might be coming eventually, gave you time to leave, time to ask questions. Maybe you didn't want to know, perhaps you thought you already knew, you suspected he was a criminal but never a God.

Sometimes he's in two places at once, some times things fall to the floor, teleport across the room, but there are times when he is so far removed from you, nothing can bring him back from that place. You were tired of being ignored, once upon a time being Nancy's girl meant something but now it meant going to bed alone and waking up alone, sometimes with Anansi having not moved from his spot in a chair at all. You came in, surprised he wasn't in a haze, he seemed to be waiting on you.

"You're late." He said. An observation and an accusation. You weren't cheating on him, you could, there were so many who wanted you and yet here you were...alone in your own relationship. The perks of being Nancy's girl.

"So." You said, he went days at a time in the same household and yet not saying a word. How dare he get up for going one night without seeing you. You'd met up with co-worker, Higgler, went out for drinks. No harm in that.

"I waited."

"I didn't ask you to do that."

"I must be confused," He said and stood up and walked into the the kitchen and came to stand beside you. "Is something wrong?"

"No, you tell me, Anansi."

"Are you drunk?" He asked, yes, you were but that wasn't why this was happening. This conversation was begging to be had for a while now.

"Does it matter? Would you even care?"

"I care. Of course I care." He said, then said your name softly and pulled you into his arms. You stay still for a moment but it's hard to resist him, always has been since the moment you met him.

"Why won't you just talk to me?" You asked softly into his chest.

"Would you believe me if I told you?"

"You've never struggled with being convincing before." You said and looked up at him. Then he smiled at you, looked through you and then pulled away.

"Take a seat."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm about to tell you who I am and you should probably sit down." He said, so you do and he does tell you. Your head doesn't split open and you don't die but initially you think he's lying. He can't be a God! He just can't be! It's your human nature to emphatically deny what you don't understand.

It takes more than him politely explaining who and what he was. He sighed heavily and walked away from you. He stood in the center of the kitchen and raised one hand and touched the ceiling and flattened it, then his other hand and used his weight to pivot and climb the ceiling. If that wasn't enough, his forehead was lined with eyes and large fangs extended from his mouth. A birth defect? A disability, possibly. He can see this is a lot and came to sit at his feet.

“This can be a lot for most people.” He said.

“I’m not most people.” You said.

“I know, that’s why I chose you.” You looked down at him and took the cigarette from his hand and he lit it for you.

“What type of God are you?” You ask after a long while, you go through two more cigarettes before you feel steady enough.

“Jack of all trades.” He said. “The people need to be safe and laugh.”

“You make them all laugh?”

“I can change the story but not completely remove it, important parts have to stick. Humans are sticky and linked to one another, I can only ease the journey.” He said. “Wisdom in the form of entertainment has been easiest, you know it’s hard to tell a stupid motherfucker they’re doing something wrong.”

“Are you apart of my story?”

‘Do you want me to be?” He asked, you stand up and he doesn’t look away. Perhaps, reflecting during these final moments you see what it is. Blind faith. He believed in you. Despite him hating fate, kismet, whatever you wanted to call it, he always knew you’d choose him. Like a good book, you’d always return, even if there was an entire ocean separating you. If you couldn’t then he’d come to you. He couldn’t unmake himself a God, much like your boy won’t be able to burn away that part that calls out and sings so sweetly. You held out your hands to him and he took them.

“How long can you stick to the roof?”

“It’s not a party trick.” He said and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight and spinning around with you. When he placed you back down you were standing in the bedroom.

“Says who, spiderman?” You asked and you both laugh. It’s a period of adjustment like nearly everything in your life.

----

You ultmately wish for your boy to understand that everything has a sunrise and sunset. You loved Anansi inspite of every red flag you ever saw crop up, and there came a time where loving and being in love wasn't enough. He was your husband, your best friend and beacuse of that you came to a proper agreement. A moment would come when this world and this war was too dangerous. Your boy, charlie, loathed his father because they were too much alike, both parading around in facades, both busybodies in the worst ways, both too damned pigheaded to say what was on their mind truly at times.

"So you're going to leave?" He asked, it was one of the dumbest thing you'd heard him say. You were finally debased to obvious observations, he was always so well spoken and right now he was holding up a wall watching you in your living room. You'd moved from Chicago to Florida, created a life for one another, brought a child into the world, spoke truth into the world only to watch it crumble away partly due to an invisible war you never saw and the fact Anansi spent more times chasing stories than keeping you happy. Those stories always came in many faces, younger, healthier, livelier people who seemed so different from you.

"Bags are packed. This is where we should leave things."

"You're being very cordial about this."

"And you're smiling, are you happy about this too?" You said and pointed out, he ran his tongue over his teeth and tried to remove the smile but failed. He was angry, but so were you for so many reasons you'd never share. If he loved stories so much he could keep up with them without embarassing his son every forty five minutes and neglecting his wife, he'd always be a God and you'd always be a human who might have bit off more than she could chew. Charlie was a God too, no matter how shy and withdrawn he'd became.

"I know what you're thinking." He said and slid his hands into his pcokets.

"I assure you don't." You said, "Maybe in another time but I can't--"

"Can't what?"

"Can't play second fiddle forever to whatever story you're chasing." You said, "Not for you or for any man."

"Maybe not a man, but a God?" He asked. He pushed off the wall and walked over to you. After years together charm wears off, the butterflies die but familiarity never changes. Falling into step has become second nature, you are so far from the young woman impressed by the cool headed man with brute strength who won every battle before he ever picked an arena. "I know you think you're making the right choice."

"And what do you think?" You asked, "And I want you to really tell me, no cheating, no looking into the future."

"I think that no matter where you go, all you have to do is call and I'll come."

"You'll have three more people moved in before the end of the week." You said, you need to say it so that you know this is really over.

"Doesn't make it any less true." He said and you hold out your hand to him.

"When I'm gone, promise you'll be here for him, he'll need you." You said, he took your hand and dropped down onto one knee and kissed the back of it.

"I'll do my best."

"That's all I can ask for." You said and placed your hand on the top of his head and then pulled away and lifted up your last bag and started towards the door. "If I ever call...it will be to say goodbye."

"So this isn't goodbye." He said and teleported beside the door.

"No, this is just farewell for now." You said and walked out. You don't look back, you don't need to, you don't know exactly what binds him here but hopes he finds something to free himself.

----

You hope one day he understands that his father is not a man and will never behave like one. He doesn't have to, he's not even bound to this planet let alone it's rules, but you hope one day that Fat Charlie realizes he is so much more than just a man and to live the life he really wants to. You can feel when the life starts to leave you and you want all your affairs in order. You move across the country and then out of the country and Charlie followed. He grew bitter and irritated with his father seeing his flambouyant and exuberant personality as a flaw instead of something to carve out in himself. You don't expect cancer to take you, but you've lived a full life and hope Charlie does the same.

You don't expect Anansi to actually show, you don't expect the band, or the kiss that would knock you off your feet if you weren't already in bed plugged up to machines. The nurses enjoy the change in pace and so does Christine, your roommate. Anansi is lively and brings a bottle to celebrate your new change in life, or so he calls it that.

"I'm sick." You said, "I'm dying."

"You're all dying, but it's not a bad thing, and I'm right here, like I promised."

"Still a man of your word down to the parade." You said, you thought the times you got drunk and waxed poetic he hadn't paid attention. You were glad some things hadn't slipped through the cracks. "Talk to Charlie?"

"No, no, you know how he is. Always on about something."

"He's your son and when I'm gone he's all the family you got left."

"You consider yourself family?"

"You wouldn't cross an ocean for no reason." You said. He slid his chair closer, placing his hand over yours.

"You look good." He said, he's older now, or that's what he wants you to think. A little sag here, a bit more hunched over. You've watched him shift his entire body to fit his agenda, this is no different.

"I'm old and bald, Mr. Nancy." You said,

"Call me Anansi."

"Or whatever I want, right?"

"Right." He said and laughed. "But you look good regardless of what you've got. If you could do anything, what would you do?"

"Besides live?"

"Yes, besides that." He said and held your hand in his. His hands have grown harder, rougher. Less story telling, more fighting, much more hard work than he ever should've been used to.

"I want to travel, really see the world, you know I always talk about it but things got in the way, and then Charlie came and I couldn't just take off."

"Yeah, I think I'd lead that boy to an early grave." He said and you both laugh together. A hearty laugh that you didn't know you needed. "Well let me get some things in order first and you'll have it."

"Look, Anansi--"

"You're Nancy's girl, right? You'll have what you need." He said, and you believe him. A spinner of tales he might be but never a liar, at least when it came to you. "Say it."

"I'm too old for this shit."

"No, I'm too old for this. You're exactly where you're supposed to be." He said and you smile, it's been so long since you've done that, you've done more smiling now than you have in the last couple of years. "Say it."

"Say what?"

"You're Nancy's girl."

"I'm your girl." You said and smile again, you mean it, after all these damn years away from him, only an hour together and you've fell back into patterns.

"Kiss on it?" He asked, ever the slick and sly trickster. It has been many years since you've kissed him, it's not just flesh to flesh, he can pour something into you that you didn't know you needed.

"If that's why you came then sure."

"No not the only reason but you know you got what'll make a man sell his soul to the devil and cross the sea." He said, he stood up and leaned over you, not making you work too hard. He leaned on the button helping you lean back and pressed his lips to yours, tilting your head up. You feel it, a tingle, something that starts to brighten and jump to life inside you. You are not a spring chicken anymore, but he makes parts of you spring to life as if you were in the first bloom of your life. "Damn, girl."

"What are you on about?" You asked.

"Nothing, you called, I came, like I told you I would. I've got to get back before anyone knows I'm missing."

"Don't forget to say goodbye to your son."

"Oh, I won't." He said and raised your hand up one final time and kissed the back of it. You watch him go and know you'll see him again but you won't be among the living, this is your last time. You are unsurprised when your tests come back negative and you're discharged. The cancer is gone, dead within seconds, and when you return home you find plane tickets waiting on your counter. Anansi is more than a man and that's okay, you hope Fat Charlie sees that.

-----

You are dead. You know that. You hope Charlie can learn to forgive his father for being so boisterous, larger than life and embarassing, but he is his father's child and it is hard for them to see eye to eye on any damn thing. You rise from the hotel bed and walk over to the balcony and you wait for him because you know he's going to come, or you're going to find him. The land of the dead is silent, there are others, you can see them walking about, playing in the park, running with their dogs, kissing and holding hands, going on strolls. For a moment you think you won't see him, you leave, no need to gather your things, you won't need them.

Anansi once told you about the after life, about what may or may not await you depending on which road you walked. You knew he said he'd never be far behind and you believe that, you believe in him. You step out of the hotel, turn right and walk, going purely on intuition, the hotels and beach towns wash away, through the forests you continue, climb the necessary hills. As you come upon a different world you note your knees don't hurt, your feet don't ache and neither does your back. At the top of a hill is a cave, you pass through the mouth of it and felt something shake and shimmer over you as you enter the room.

It is a large single room, a grate pit in the center of the room surrounded by cushions. There are portraits on the orange walls and shadows dance about the room, you're sure exactly from where. He is laying back on the cushions, his head is pillowed on his arm and staring up at you. He is different, more himself, his true self. His hair is longer, and he has many eyes that line his forehead, and many arms that line his torso. He has a book hand, is weaving with another and waving from a completely different hand.

"You found me." He said.

"For now, I don't think I can stay here, can I?" You asked.

"Not the end of your journey, I'm afraid. Soul like yours comes around once in every few flashes."

"Flashes?"

"It's complicated. You'll learn. All afterlifes are the same in one way or another."

"How much time do we?"

"Oh, as much as you want." He said and dug between the cushions and held a bag of sand. "Sand of times, snatched it off some kid on the way home. Felt like we'd need some time together."

"For what?"

"Whatever you want."

"And Charlie?"

"He'll be fine, smart kid with a good head on his shoulders." He said, he pushed himself up and kept tossing the bag up in the air.

"Tell me what you did when I left." She said.

"Now that is a story..." He said, you walked over to him and the things he semed to be doing to keep himself busy disappeared. He welcomed you with open arms, when you wrap your arms around him the room changes with a snap. You are back in the bar you met in, you pull away and look up. Yes. This is Randy's. Same dumpy dive bar where he inserted himself in your life and you let him. He walked away and over to the bar and picked up the glass of bloodied glass shards, tainted alcohol and ash from his cigarette.

"WHat's is this about?" You asked. He picked up the second glass and poured it into the concoction.

"Drink it."

"You think I'm crazy?"

"You trust me, right?" He said and held it out to you, "Besides, you're already dead."

"There's so much worse you can do."

"Says who?"

"Says whoever you snatched that sand from." You said.

"Touche." He said, but you drink it anyway. A drink. A potion. Whatever it is it makes your head spin, you feel whatever entity you are shift and turn inside out and the sound from Randys came back but it was different. Not a dusty dive bar but the scent of it is still the same and so is the chipped bar. You and Anansi stood at the back of the crowded bar, someone at the front was tearing it up on a saxophone.

"I made arrangements." Anansi said.

"For?"

"Our boy." He said, and yes, why it is Charlie but he's different. Alive in a way you could never put your finger on as his mother. But you see it, at his core, what makes him a God and a man and they're not at war with one another.

"True to your word, why does that make me feel like we're coming to the end of our journey?"

"We'll meet again, a soul like yours, shines too bright." He said. You nod your head in agreement, you sip the drink again and feel yourself start to break and shift. Charlie climbs down from the makeshift stage and tries to part the crowd, but you are dust in the wind.

Blood.

Glass.

Liquor.

Ash.

----

You are flesh, bone and free will, but you do not have direction. Perhaps that's why you hover here at Mausoleum of the fallen. The entities that are sculpted here are beautiful some made of marble, others onyx, you walk by and sense that you are not alone. You know you are a flash, a shift in the cosmic energy and a rarity, you will continue to hide amongst of the morals, walk between the worlds of Gods and mortals....and then there they are far in the back of the Mausoleum.

"What are you?" You asked.

"Choice." They said, the God walked out, impeccably dressed, "Always on time, I see."

"I don't understand."

"You will."

"Gods have never come to meet me before."

"This is different and I'm not just any God," He said.

"How many flashes have we suffered one another?" You asked, you're not sure but instinct in not something you need to find. This multi-eyed creatures stares at you with fondness.

"Seventeen."

"That is not chance, that is planned." You said.

"Yes."

"Why is this different?" You asked, They held up a tumbler of alcohol with ash and glass shards floating in it. You look away back to the statues, there are handfuls of Gods that are necessary, some haven't been seen in eons, they play it fast and loose and are wild cards. You wonder which one he'll be.

"Just is." He said, you have no reason not to trust him despite being gifted with these instincts. You reach for the tumbler but he pulled it back away from you. "The past couple times I meddled but now you have a chance, a real chance."

"You don't think I'll choose you." You said and tilted your head to the side to study them. "Even though you chose me all these cycles."

"The last cycle was different, you walked away, for good, only called when you were about to die."

"And so you wanted to know that now I'd choose you."

"Yes."

"Fascinating."

"How so?" He sked.

"Even Gods, in all your wisdom and knowledge, have your insecurities."

"We invented them, mortals just inherit them."

"Now what will we do afterward?" You asked, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag full of sand.

"We have time to figure that out." He said and this time when you reach for the glass he allows you to take it. You drink it down down, swallowing the glass and ash and tainted alcohol, with each swallow you remember a different life, a different flash, eons of you doing this dance with him, each time you're different, the circumstances are different but the last time is by far the most daunting. Charlie. Oh, how many years has it been? Did your baby boy live well? "How do you feel?"

"Cold." You said and looked down and noticed you were naked. "I bet you think this is funny."

"Only in a cosmic way."

"Is Charlie--"

"He's fine, he's fine. Two wives, three kids, a bar. Living the dream." He said and shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over your shoulder. "We have time to catch up on him later, I've missed you."

"What do you want to do?"

"Lets go to a club, I need to stretch my legs."

"Which ones?" You said and then scoffed as you followed him out of the afterlife. You weren't sure where you were going but you trusted him enough, had trusted him after thousands of rebirths, what was so different this time? For so long you two had been together, maybe now you could stay together without the cruel hand of fate intervening. As you reached the portal you thought of one last thing. "Whatever happened to that war?"

"Oh. I ate the people that were pissing me off.. " He said.

"You're kidding."

"Only a little." He said. "No worries, no war this time, just you and me."

"The way it's supposed to be."

"The way it's always been."

[dothwrites]

15.12 coda--a parent’s heart bared

Through the blur, I wondered if I was alone or if other parents felt the same way I did - that everything involving our children was painful in some way. The emotions, whether they were joy, sorrow, love or pride, were so deep and sharp that in the end they left you raw, exposed and yes, in pain. The human heart was not designed to beat outside the human body and yet, each child represented just that - a parent's heart bared, beating forever outside its chest.--Debra Ginsberg

---

Castiel sits on Dean’s bed, legs tucked up under him. 

It took him a long time to learn this kind of nonchalance, his body unwilling to bend after millennia of enforced rigidness. It took years to teach it how to relax, to learn how to relax into a space, how to be loose. 

He learned from Sam, but mostly he learned from Dean. How to be excessive. How to stretch out into a space. 

In the past weeks, he and Dean have had to relearn how to stretch themselves into the same space. They’ve had to learn how to fit themselves together, how to file away their jagged edges until they’re something resembling smooth. 

They’re still not perfect. There are still those discordant jangles that strike, the times when the memories rise up, bitter and choking, in the back of Cas’ throat. Sometimes, Dean will look at him and something dark and hard lurks in the back of his eyes, but those times are growing fewer and fewer. 

Mostly, Castiel relaxes into the feel of Dean. Like now, when he sheds his clothing, dropping it carelessly into the hamper, until he’s in just a t-shirt and his boxers. Castiel watches Dean brush his teeth and run his fingers through his hair, just the easy, calm routines of night, but Dean makes them look like a dance. 

Dean turns around and catches sight of Castiel watching him. “What are you looking at?” he asks, but there’s a pleased little smile on his face. Dean likes the attention, same as Castiel likes giving it. 

“Come to bed,” Castiel replies. 

“Take your damn shoes off you savage. And the coat. And the jacket. And the tie.” 

Castiel rolls his eyes, already toeing off his shoes as his fingers work at his tie. “You know that I don’t need to be undressed to find comfort.” 

“Yeah well, it’s weird trying to snuggle up to someone who’s wearing a tie. And it’s just bad manners to put your shoes on someone’s bed.” Dean’s eyes flick over his body, a swift, appreciative dart as Castiel sheds his button down. “Hey there hot stuff.” 

“It’s late and you’re tired,” Castiel says flatly, though not without a small amount of regret. 

“You’re no fun,” Dean accuses, but doesn’t try to argue against Castiel. 

Castiel settles back onto the mattress, the foam easily forming to the contours of his body. Dean follows a few moments later. Tellingly, he slots his body next to Castiel, laying his head onto Castiel’s shoulder. 

Dean is still a man of hard-broken habits, created from a lifetime of fighting and losing and hurting. Even now, he still refrains from asking for or seeking comfort unless it’s the most dire of circumstances. 

Castiel holds back, even though the words crowd on the tip of his tongue. It’s what he’s learned--he has to wait for Dean to approach him, for Dean to drop his walls and allow Castiel to help. 

He doesn’t wait long. 

“So Kaia’s going to Sioux Falls with Jody,” Dean says. His breath wafts over Castiel’s chest. Were this a different night or a different mood, this conversation might end much differently. But Castiel’s learned control--Dean doesn’t need that from him, not now at least. “I guess she’s going to be another citizen of the Wayward Girls.” 

Castiel hums in agreement, unsure of where Dean’s taking this topic. “Jody had a kid the first time we met her,” Dean continues. “A son. Her kid.” His fingers push into Castiel’s side before he continues. “Never figured out how he died the first time, but the second time...Sam put him down.” 

Castiel’s heard the stories. At the time, his vision tunneled by the upcoming apocalypse, he’d expressed what he thought were the appropriate noises of sympathy and changed the subject as quickly as he could, unable to see why he should spend sympathy on one dead human when there were billions of lives at stake. Now, with the memory of Jack’s screams still echoing through his memory, Castiel understands. 

“Losing your kid...” Dean trails off, but Castiel thinks that he’s finally managed to unravel the thread of this conversation. 

Jack is still a tender subject, the edges of the wound not quite healed. There’s too much anger, guilt, love, and worry to tape over and forget. Castiel knows; Castiel understands. But the fact remains that he never wavered in his belief and Dean...

“I thought about being a dad,” Dean says, turning his face so that it’s mostly hidden in Castiel’s lap. The heat from his breath spreads out over Castiel’s pants, turns them humid and damp, but Castiel doesn’t dare to move. After a moment, he settles his hand onto the back of Dean’s neck and lets his thumb rest in the hollow of Dean’s jaw. 

Dean relaxes into the contact. His shoulders loosen, even as his arm wraps firmly around Cas’ waist. “Just, you know. Sometimes. I knew that it was never going to happen, but still...” He trails off and Castiel lets him. He’s had to learn to let things go. To accept that some things, Dean just can’t--won’t--do. 

“Thought that I’d gotten it there for a while.” Castiel knows where Dean’s mind goes--to the year when he was with Lisa and Ben, the year where he tried his best to fit in with civilian life. To give it his best shot at normal. And meanwhile, while Dean was languishing away, Castiel was making deals with the devil. 

Castiel doesn’t care to remember those years. 

“But it wasn’t...It wasn’t...” Dean huffs in frustration. “I always said that it had to be someone in the life. Anyone else, they wouldn’t get it. They wouldn’t...And then, with you, and Sam, and Jack...It just...it worked.” 

Castiel strokes over Dean’s temple. He knows what Dean means. Jack fit into their lives, seamlessly as though he’d always been there, and Castiel had rejoiced, had found different ways to tell Dean--This is it. This is our family. This is where we put down roots.

“And then it got all blown to shit, and...I’m just thinking.” 

“About?” Castiel finally dares to ask, when Dean trails off into silence.

Dean rolls onto his side and looks at Castiel. 

“About kids. Claire, Kaia...Jack...They’re really all just kids. Every one of them...” Dean’s voice grows thick and he speaks through it; for his sake, Castiel pretends to ignore it. “Everyone of them got screwed over by their parents.” Dean inhales, loud and shaky in the silence of the room. “I always promised myself that I wasn’t going to...That if I ever had a kid, that I would...you know. I wasn’t going to be my dad.” 

Castiel’s thumb stutters to a halt before he continues. “He was a complicated man,” Castiel says after a moment, knowing the veritable minefield he’s just entered into. 

“That’s a nice way of saying that he was a dick.” Dean’s laugh is a small, sad thing. “For so long, I told myself that he did the the best he could, but he didn’t. He didn’t do the best he could--He could have stopped. He could have left us with Bobby. He could’ve...shit, I don’t know, but he could have done so many other damn things rather than what he did do. And I always said...I’d do it differently. I’d treat my kid different. I’d be better. And then I turned around and I put a gun to my kid’s head.” 

Castiel’s throat constricts. Seeing Dean, the man that he loves, the man that he had died for, would still die for...Seeing Dean standing there, his only thoughts intent upon Jack, the boy who he’d given himself up for, would eventually die for, and knowing that there was nothing but anger in Dean’s heart...If he slept, he would have nightmares about it. He still sometimes, in the strange suspension between awareness and not, thinks about it and what he could have done differently. Still examines the what-ifs from every angle, just to see--Was there anything he could have done? 

“It’s over,” Castiel says, for Dean’s benefit but partially for his. “Jack is back, and...” He tries to put into words, how much Dean has changed. How much better it is now--the automatic trust. The way that Dean’s eyes shift to his, checking in. The surprising lack of temper, even as sometimes their world caves in around them. It’s so much better, and Castiel needs to tell Dean.

“I let him down Cas. I let him down, Sam...I let you down...And all I wanted to do was to things right. To make it better for him. For all of them.”  

Dean puts a small emphasis on the word ‘all’ and Castiel knows what he’s thinking of--not just Jack, alone and afraid, so much newer to the world than any of them, but also Claire, Kaia, Patience, Alex...All the children they’ve met along the way, battered and broken, who deserved better. 

“So we’ll make it better.” The certainty settles in Castiel, above his roiling doubts and fear. “We’ll fight Chuck...We’ll end Chuck, and we’ll make it better.”

“Yeah?” Dean looks up at him, but it’s hope and not doubt in his eyes. “You think?”

Castiel holds Dean close and pushes away all of his doubts and fears--of how they’re going to kill the creator of the universe, what doing so will do to his boy, how he and Dean will weather the change, of the gloom and blackness slowly gathering at the corners of his vision, a reminder of a deal unfulfilled and a debt unpaid. 

He pushes all of that away and concentrates on what he knows to be true: Dean beside him. Dean, flawed and human but trying, always trying to be better. Castiel holds onto the hope that the past few weeks have given him, holds on so tight and so long that he thinks that it might cut him to ribbons. There’s not another option. Not for them, and not for him. 

“I know,” Castiel replies. 

---

Perhaps it takes courage to raise children.--John Steinbeck 

[inawickedlittletown]

Is It Too Much To Ask For Something Good (4/4)

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel

Summary: Maybe the problem was knowing that if he talked about it and that if he said it outloud with words that could be heard, it wasn’t only his anymore. Or that they had saved the world but nothing was alright. Not anymore. Not ever.

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In the aftermath of defeating Chuck and bringing everyone back, there was still one thing that wasn’t set to rights. Castiel was still in The Empty. And Dean would never leave him there, even if it meant allowing Jack to change him.

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Words:  2,331

Read on Ao3

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

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Part Four

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He could still taste. It just wasn’t the same as it was before. For one thing, hunger wasn’t a thing so eating something didn’t quench any real desire. It wasn’t satisfactory like it had once been. Saltier and sweeter things had a better taste but Dean could also now name every single ingredient that had gone into something and sometimes he didn’t taste the whole component but each separate flavor. And then there was the molecule thing that Cas had been going on about because that was a thing and it wasn’t pleasant. 

Sam thought it was hilarious and Dean thought he saw Eileen smiling too. 

They spent the morning right into the afternoon together. Cas was never far and if they weren’t touching in some way, they were within reach of each other. Dean’s wings seemed to lean towards Cas, wrapping behind Cas or just pointing at him but always aware of where Cas was. Cas never seemed to stop himself from glancing at them or touching them. 

A call to Sam’s cell interrupted their afternoon. 

“It’s Claire,” Sam said and looked at them with wide eyes.

Dean remembered the day when they had driven to meet up with Jody and the girls. How Dean had left it to Sam to break it to Claire that Cas was gone. She had taken off as soon as the words had been said, only to return later and point at Dean and demand that he talk to her. 

“Sam said you were the last one that saw him,” Claire had said. “What happened?” 

Dean told her what he could. He held her when she cried and tried not to also break down into tears. Since then, Claire didn’t bring Cas up. She called when she needed help whether that be because what she was hunting and it was too much for her or because she needed them to look something up for her at the bunker. Dean had only seen her once since and it hadn’t been for long. 

“We’ll meet you there,” Sam said. “Wait for us.” 

“I figured that wasn’t something she should hear over the phone,” Sam said. 

Claire wasn’t far. Dean was aware that he could have made it to her almost instantaneously, but driving his Baby was what he did, so he climbed into his car with Cas at his side. Sam and Eileen making the choice to drive separately. Dean was thankful for it. Dean had miracled Cas’ clothes clean after Cas asked with a bashful smile before they got into the Impala. Being able to do something like that for Cas had sent a warm jolt through him. 

A couple of hours later they arrived at Claire’s hotel. 

She would deny it later, Dean was sure, but her eyes teared up when she saw Cas right before she launched at him and pummeled his chest twice before Dean grabbed her around the waist and pulled her away.

“Cool it with the punches, will ya, blondie?” 

“You told me he was gone,” Claire said accusingly at Dean. Her eyes flickered towards Sam too, but they settled on Dean. 

“He was,” Dean said. 

For some reason they didn’t tell Claire about Dean being an angel, but she did have a long conversation with Cas and afterwards when she hugged Dean afterwards, Claire muttered how happy she was that they were together. 

It turned out that Claire didn’t need as much help as she thought, so because Claire demanded that Cas hang back, Dean stayed with him. Dean felt a little weird doing so when he had all the angel mojo at his disposal, but Cas pointed out that Dean didn’t want Claire to know about it anyway. Either way, they were a call away and Dean could fly them in if there was any real danger. In the end, he and Cas weren’t needed and it made Dean think. 

It made him think about the life that he and Sam had led for so long. The constant moving and chasing down leads for possible supernatural threats. How never settling down had hurt any chance of a normal life. Even the Men of Letters bunker was so far away from normal that it couldn’t fully function as a home. 

“What are you thinking?” Cas asked on the drive back.

Dean was considering the alternative. If he went back to being a human and he left the life. Perhaps not fully, but he might take it slower and be a resource more than someone out there putting his life on the line and doing the work. He could man those agency phones like Bobby had done. There were so many hunters out there. Younger men and women that could take on the mantle. Dean had no idea how Sam felt about it, but Dean could admit that he was tired. Of course, he’d tried the normal life once with Lisa and Ben and it had failed spectacularly. But it had worked in some ways and Dean had cared about Lisa and Ben both. It just hadn’t been enough for him. 

“I’m just wondering if I’m really needed anymore as a hunter,” Dean said. “And if I could actually do it and walk away. Retire.” 

“The world owes a lot to you, Dean,” Cas said and he reached over to grab Dean’s hand. “No one would blame you for walking away. Or for taking a step back and not chasing every hunt or hint at a problem.” 

“I think we’ll have to talk to Jack,” Dean said. “We’ll have to go to him. But Cas, this affects you too. What do you want?”

“I want you,” Cas said without hesitation. 

“I want you too,” Dean said and he couldn’t help but break out into a grin. 

They left Sam and Eileen a note at the bunker and then Cas explained to Dean how to fly into heaven. And then Dean wrapped his arms around his angel and Dean was flying with Cas in his arms. They arrived in a clean, very white and empty room. At least, it seemed empty at first until Jack appeared, running towards them until he could throw himself at Cas who only just managed to keep his balance. 

“You did it,” Jack said to Dean with an excited smile. 

Jack showed them around and from the way that Cas reacted, Dean could tell that things were different. Things in heaven had changed. Dean hung back and watched it all. The man — angel — he loved and his son who was God and technically just a few years old. And maybe Cas belonged at Jack’s side in heaven helping with all the changes and making sure that Jack was making the right decisions. 

“I don’t want it to be like it was,” Jack told them. “Everyone being apart. I want it to be open...like it’s supposed to be. A place to rest. To be happy.”

They met some of the angels and they gave Dean odd glances which Dean figured had to do with him technically being one of them now. Cas received shocked looks and more than one glare. Jack took them to The Garden. Dean had been there once before and the whole experience still felt more like a dream than anything. It didn’t look the same as it had back then. Now it was wild and huge. It just kept going and going and he imagined that it contained any and all plants. It was beautiful. He saw Cas stop at a flower he couldn’t identify, leaning in to give it a sniff and then he kept leaning there and Dean spotted a few bees that had caught his attention. 

“So, you don’t want to be an angel,” Jack said. 

Dean wasn’t too startled by him. 

“I said yes because it was the only way to save him,” Dean said. “And not gonna lie, Jack, I feel great. And these wings are something else, but it isn’t me. Being human is more. Can you change me back?”

Jack nodded. “I can,” he said. “I wasn’t sure that you would want to give up all that power. But I know your soul and I know who you are, so it isn’t surprising.”

It was the right choice. He felt it in his bones. Looking at Cas, who had moved on to looking at other flowers and plants, it was easy to imagine him remaining in heaven and being in The Garden. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jack said. “He will not leave you. You’ve made your choice Dean, but you have to know that he made his too. His grace is almost gone. He’s been falling slowly for so long and it’s all because of you.”

Cas returned to Dean’s side after a moment, smiling. “Figure everything out?” he asked.

Dean hadn’t realized that Cas had been giving him and Jack the space to talk. 

“I want to go back to being human,” Dean said. 

“Good,” Cas said and he linked their arms together. “And one day, when we come back up here, it won’t be like today.”

Dean couldn’t help but gasp. “Are you—”

Cas just nodded. 

Dean flew them back to the bunker after Jack filled them in on all the rest of his plans and then told Dean that he didn’t need his help to become human again. It would happen on it’s own in a few days — maybe a full week or two — so long as it was what Dean really wanted. 

It happened slowly, and Dean could tell he was changing almost entirely because of how food tasted and how he started to want food and sleep. His wings were one of the last things to go and having their weight removed from his back was weirdly freeing. Cas seemed more affected by them disappearing. Sometimes, Dean caught him reaching behind Dean as if to touch them only to remember a moment later that they weren’t there. 

“Is that a thing for you?” Dean asked him one night. 

Sam and Eileen had left the bunker on a hunt that Dean had declined to go on. The guilt that he’d expected to feel at that hadn’t hit and Cas’ grip on his shoulder had eased any bit of worry that had existed for him. 

“What?” Cas asked. He was watching Dean make dinner from the table, but he got up to stand next to Dean.

Dean couldn’t believe that at one point in his life he had been annoyed by how close Cas got to him. Now, he wanted Cas as close as possible. Always within his reach. 

“The wings,” Dean said. “You keep looking behind me or reaching for them.”

“They were beautiful. A reflection of you,” Cas said. “And they’re not fully gone yet. I can still feel them and see them sometimes. I give it a couple more days.”

“Are you upset that I didn’t want to stay an angel?” Dean asked. 

One thing that remained from his time as an angel was some of what he already knew. One of those things was that Cas was his and he was Cas’ and their bond — their profound bond — it meant that there was nothing that could stop them from loving each other. 

“No. You are human, Dean. The best human. If they were all like you, this world would be very different. But my wings are gone and one day I won’t even have what is left. I’m appreciating them until they are gone. That’s all.”

Dean kissed him. It was a quick kiss, a taste for what they might get to do later. Cas leaned into his space, he pressed kisses away from Dean’s lips, up his jaw to his ear and Dean wrapped an arm around Cas, bringing him close right against his side and breathing him. Sometimes, he was still surprised that he had him there at all. 

“Sam texted earlier,” Cas said. 

“Yeah?” 

“They took care of the ghost. But, they wanted to let us know there’s a pie fest tomorrow.”

Dean dropped the spatula in his hand. “Pie fest,” he repeated. “And you’re only just now mentioning this? I think we have the location of our next date, Cas.” 

Cas laughed. “I already told Sam we’d meet him and Eileen there.” 

“Hell yeah, we will,” Dean said. 

They shared another quick kiss. Dean had never expected to experience a relationship the way that it was with Cas. The ease that came with it that told Dean he was exactly where he should be. They had gone on a few dates since Cas’ return. Out to eat, or to the movies, bowling, and once — while Dean could still fly them places — Dean had taken Cas out to the beach. And those things were fun and doing them with Cas was even better, especially when he got to introduce Cas to something new. 

And then there was the other aspects. The sex. Dean wasn’t shy about how much sex he’d had over the years and although it had happened very few times, sometimes it hadn’t been all women. With Cas, just like everything else, it was different. It meant more and it was satisfying because it brought them closer emotionally and physically. It was the most perfect thing. 

Pie fest was everything that Dean had expected it to be and being able to fully taste all of the pies made it even better. Having Cas next to him and a tray full of plates of every pie that there had been and with Sam and Eileen signing at each other, Dean didn’t think he would ever feel happier. It was exactly how things should be. 

When Cas touched his shoulder where his mark used to be, Dean reached for Cas’ wrist where his mark had been too and they smiled at each other. Things were good.

[lifblogs]

Carry You

@bend-me-shape-me​, @pray4jensen, @helianthus21​ This took me longer than I expected, and I’m a day late, but this story required a lot of my attention to make it work. After all, it is my last entry for #SpnStayAtHome. Thank you so much for hosting this, and for reminding me why I love Destiel. I went through some hard stuff that made me turn away from this ship more than I realized. This really brought me back to a place I wanted to be. I love Destiel. I love writing. This was to keep everyone occupied and positive during our own apocalypse, but I just want y’all to know this meant a lot to me and helped me heal in some ways I hadn’t realized I’d needed. So thank you.

And, since this is my last fic for #SpnStayAtHome, I decided to go over the top, and instead of just picking a song lyric as a prompt, I picked an entire song, and wrote a songfic. It’s “Carry You (feat. Fleurie)” by Ruelle.

I know it hurts

It’s hard to breathe sometimes

These nights are long

You’ve lost the will to fight

God, it was too much. It was all just too much. They couldn’t do this. Not without Jack, without Sam. Their family was—

Dean heaved in a shaky breath where he sat in the woods by the bunker. The night was dark and starless. Yet Dean looked up there, believing in… believing in something; maybe not God, but someone was up there, right?

Right? There had to be.

Sam was as good as dead.

His kid was—

His kid was likely just the same. They hadn’t stood a chance against God, the cruel creator of the universe. This wasn’t the ending that God had said was planned for them, but maybe it was still an ending, a consolation prize because he couldn’t get the real-deal.

Dean was so lost, alone…

That was in part because he’d driven away from Cas. Just left him there on the side of that dirt road, not able to look at him, not able to see the loss and hurt in those blue eyes. If Dean had stared right at him, it would be to admit his wrong, to face his failure. It was his plan that’d gone south, his plan that had taken everything away from them. But he couldn’t do it.

His family couldn’t be—

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, voice a broken sob, vision blurred with tears. “God, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We were finally a family again, and… And I took that away.”

He didn’t even know who the words were for. For Sam and Jack? For Castiel? For himself?

He just didn’t know.

His heart ached so fiercely he could barely breathe. Shadows cloaked him in absolute darkness.

Is anybody out there?

Can you lead me to the light?

Is anybody out there?

Tell me it’ll all be alright

Castiel was dialing Dean’s number into his phone. Though Dean was in his contacts, had been for over a decade, he liked to put in his number, liked to remember who this number belonged to. About to tap on the call button on the screen, Castiel just stood there. He’d walked and walked down that dirt road that seemingly had no end. And only a lone star amidst the heavy clouds shone down upon him.

Dean won’t pick up, he told himself. There was no reason for him to.

They were done.

Rended apart.

But…

No, they couldn’t be.

They’d always been there for each other, had each other’s backs. They’d brought each other back from the darkest places, and they would not go down like this.

The anger, the sheer frustration at not having his family around him, gave Castiel the energy to tap on the screen.

It rang.

And rang, and rang, and rang.

Finally:

“This is Dean’s other, other cell. If you’re calling, you know what to do.”

The beep to let Castiel say his message sounded, filling him with disappointment, and though he knew Dean would probably never hear it, he had to speak. He just had to.

“Dean, it’s me. It’s Castiel. I know…” He breathed in, tears lining his eyes, his throat aching. “I know it’s all gone to hell. And I know He took your brother, our son. Listen, Sam’s my best friend, and I love Jack more than anything in this world. But I need you too. I know you’re probably moping somewhere, with a beer, and—and thinking you screwed up. Well, you didn’t screw up, Dean. You didn’t. You believed in them. You believed in us — believed in me. Now you have to believe in yourself too. And if you can’t…” Castiel sighed, not sure he wanted to say this next part, knowing if he did there’d be no going back. Dean would know what this meant, know what it meant more than the words I love you could ever convey. Because they didn’t do I love you. Instead they sacrificed, and gave, and bled. Instead it was hope, and faith, and what they had always needed from their fathers. Things they’d never gotten. Spurred on by the tears that fell, Castiel went on, “And if you can’t, then I’ll believe in you. I’ve always believed in you, even when it went against my orders. But there are no more orders. There’s just” — the dial tone sounded, Castiel’s message having run too long — “you,” he finished.

He slowly lowered his phone, blinking away tears.

And he searched for Dean.

He needed him, otherwise all this hurt would take hold in ways it never had before.

You are not alone

I’ve been here the whole time

Singing you a song

I will carry you

I will carry you

“Cas, I’m sorry,” Dean prayed, tears now freely running down his cheeks. “I didn’t mean— didn’t mean to leave you. You gotta believe me, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it. All those… all those times I’ve left you… I’ve never meant it. Not for one second. So you come back to me. You come back. Just… Just tell me I’m not alone.”

On instinct, Dean reached for his phone in his pocket, but it was dead. He’d killed it hours ago, and out here, there wasn’t a place to charge it.

This was only a place for being alone.

God, Dean was so sick of being alone.

He got up and settled himself into the driver’s seat of the Impala, the engine purring with a thrumming intensity beneath him.

“Okay, Cas, I’m coming to you.”

I know you can’t remember how to shine

Your heart’s a bird without the wings to fly

Castiel was walking, and he could hear Dean, could feel him.

He was coming to him, coming back.

And though Castiel realized Dean’s phone must’ve been dead, he still called it, still had the urge to talk to him even when he wasn’t there.

“Dean, I’m coming. Just keep talking to me. Keep praying. I’m here.”

Is anybody out there?

Can you take this weight of mine?

Is anybody out there?

Can you lead me to the light?

“I’m here, Cas. I’m here. We’re gonna fix this. You and me, you hear? The way it’s supposed to be. I know I always said it was just me and Sam. But it’s not. And it hasn’t been for a long-ass time. It’s me and you and Sam and Jack. It’s us. All of us. And it’s gotta be built back up somewhere. So come on, let me get you, baby. If you’re still on that road thinking I don’t give a damn, you’re wrong. You’re so fucking wrong.”

You are not alone

I’ve been here the whole time

Singing you a song

I will carry you

I will carry you

“I know you didn’t leave because you didn’t care. You’re hurt, Dean. I’m hurt. Just keep coming. Keep praying. Please. Please… I need you. I need you.”

You are not alone

I’ve been here the whole time

“I need you.”

You are not alone (not alone)

I’ve been here the whole time

A familiar engine sounded in Castiel’s ears, and he hung up the phone. Headlights glared like bright messengers from Heaven out of the dark, and they came towards Cas. He kept walking, each step assured now, ready. They could do this. They would do this.

The Impala pulled up in front of Cas, and Dean got out, legs weak. Even from here Castiel could hear his heart hammering, and he was sure the blood was rushing in his ears. Cas’ body was just about doing the same thing.

But everything else fell away. The dark, the light. It was just Dean.

Dean was breathing heavy with emotion.

“Cas, I’m sorry.”

Cas just rushed to him, and hugged him hard, harder than he’d ever hugged anyone before. He never wanted to let go.

“I heard your prayers.”

Singing you a song

I will carry you

I will carry you

Dean was stunned, completely frozen, as Castiel held him. As Castiel held him. His best friend, his angel, his family.

Dean wrapped his arms around him in response, all of him burning and aching and weak. Oh god, Cas.

“I’ve got you,” Dean told him, even as he felt Cas’ body tremble and tense in his. “I always have. This thing — what happened — it hurts. It bleeds like nothin’ else. And that’s why we’re going to fight. We’re gonna get ‘em back.”

(Is anybody out there?)

Castiel breathed in Dean’s scent. “We will.”

He pulled back just a few inches, and then held Dean’s face in his, the roughness of his stubble against his palms the greatest feeling in the world. There were tears in their eyes and everything fell into place. The life he’d always loved and felt, even before it had begun — it was here. It was here, beating strongly against his own chest, like they were joined. Perhaps they always had been.

I will carry you

I will carry you

Dean couldn’t speak any longer, just fell further into Castiel’s touch, against his body.

“Angels are watching over you,” his mom had always said.

She’d been wrong about one thing. Not angels, plural, but one. One angel. And it was like he’d always been there.

(Is anybody out there?)

They reached out for each other at the same time, lips meeting, breaths twining together, and then stopping. They loved each other so much it hurt, but it comforted them, down to their very foundations.

They were family, and they would carry each other through anything.

I know it hurts

It’s hard to breathe sometimes

[the-awkward-outlaw]

i’m so excited your inbox is open!!😁😁can i request an arthur x fem!reader where he’s insisting he’s “an ugly, old outlaw” and all that bs and she gets really emotional and gives this speech on how handsome (adorable) and loyal and caring he is? basically just tooth-rotting fluff😊😊love your work!!🤍

I hope I ticked all the boxes for this one, lol. But it definitely turned out very fluffy (which is good, because I live for fluff! They are my favorite to write, especially with Arthur). Enjoy! 

Masterlist

Read on AO3

You stand on the edge of Horseshoe Overlook, repeater in hand, waiting for an improbable attack. Of course, you can’t be entirely sure there won’t be one. Arthur mentioned a couple days ago running into some Pinkertons while he was out fishing with Jack. Something tells you that if they found this place, they’d have no problems marching in. 

An hour later, the sun’s beginning its slow descent into the sky and you hear something: a horse coming down the path. Just as you lean around a tree to see who it is, Arthur comes into view. 

“Oh hey, Arthur!” you say excitedly. Not only does he carry heavy weight in camp, he’s one of the nicest men you’ve ever met (despite being an outlaw), and he’s also the man you’re in love with. You haven’t had the courage to tell him this, the thought alone terrifies you. 

He gives you an adorable “gun” finger salute as he trots past, but you notice his eyes don’t crinkle the way they do when he smiles, almost like he’s faking it. He goes on towards the camp and you follow him, wondering if something’s wrong. 

When you get to camp, you ask Karen to take guard duty for now, explaining you’ll make up for it later. She accepts, saying you owe her a whiskey, to which you agree. Arthur dismounts his horse, feeding her a treat. You hear him say, “rest now, girl. You did good.” God, he’s so cute the way he talks to his horse. 

He continues on towards his tent and young Jack crosses his path as he walks. “Hiya, Uncle Arthur!” 

“Hey there, Jack. You keepin’ safe?” Arthur’s been worried about him ever since he ran into the Pinkertons. Of course, Arthur’s always been protective. 

“Yeah.”

“You still reading with Hosea?” 

“Yeah! He read me a story about a prince! I did a page all by myself!” 

“That’s excellent, son! Good for you!” 

Jack skips off and Arthur continues on towards his tented wagon, his shoulders rolling as he walks. You melt at the exchange he had with Jack. He is the most adorable, gentle man you’ve met. How is it that he’s a wanted man? 

Arthur shuffles around his wagon a bit, adjusting some things on his little table. Then he grabs the flaps of the canvas and pulls them down, clearly wanting some privacy. 

Silently, you go over to his tent and peak in. The sight breaks your heart. He’s sitting on the cot, hunched over, his hands clasped together as his elbows rest on his thighs. You can tell he’s upset about something. 

“Mr. Morgan?” you ask. 

He looks up and clears his face. “Oh, hey there, Y/N. What can I do for ya?” 

“Nothing. I just wanted to check on you. I was… I guess worried. You okay?” 

He smiles a little, huffing a bit. “Oh I’m doin’ just fine.” 

You can tell he’s lying, and you’re nervous to stay any longer. It’s clear he wants to be alone. However, you swallow your fear and walk into the tent. 

“Can I ask what’s wrong, Mr. Morgan? Whenever I have something weighing heavy on my mind, I find it’s helpful to tell someone.” 

“Oh trust me, no one wants to hear about my problems. I’m just… just a sad, miserable ol’ outlaw.” 

Your heart feels like it’s going to break. How can he think such awful things about himself when every time you see him, he’s doing something good to those around him? Bringing Mary-Beth a pen, reading stories to Jack, giving that one-armed man in Valentine money. Every time you’re with him, he proves the exact opposite of what he’s saying now.

“You… don’t really think that’s true, do you, Mr. Morgan?” 

“Oh trust me, I ain’t sayin’ bad enough about myself. I’m… a no-good killer, a fighter. And uh, just a bad man.” 

A tear slides down your cheek and you go sit down next to him. “Mr. Morgan, forgive me, but that’s not what I see. Every time you’re around, I see you helping folk, making people smile. I see you doing too much good to believe that a bad man is all you are.” 

“You don’t know me very well, Y/N. Hell, you only been with us a few months. Wait a few years, you’ll be sayin’ somethin’ different.” 

“I don’t think so. If anything, I’ll probably be sayin’ even nicer things about you. And honestly, Mr. Morgan, I’ve never lied to you. I ain’t startin’ now.” 

“Trust me, you won’t. No one does, everyone who spends any length of time with me knows how horrible I am.” 

“I’ve spent plenty of time with you,” you say. “I don’t think you’re horrible. Sure, you’ve made some bad choices, but who hasn’t? I… I’ve made choices that I regret too. But you can’t look at the world with people split in two based on good and bad. People are complicated. You’re complicated. That’s how the world is, and you ain’t doin’ yourself any favors by seeing it that way.” 

He sighs heavily, looking away from you. He doesn’t speak for a few moments and when he finally does open his mouth, you’re sure he’s about to tell you to leave him alone. 

“To be honest, Y/N, I really am a bad man. The only thing I’m good for is fightin’. All I ever been good at.” 

“Mr. Morgan, can I ask who told you this?” 

“No one told me, Y/N. I… I always known. And the other night, robbin’ that train full o’ city folk. Well, I robbed and beaten plenty of people before, they was really no different. But… I was over near Strawberry earlier. Some guy challenged me to a race. Guess he just bought a new horse, wanted to show off. Anyways, ol’ Artemis and I gave him a run for his money. I won, of course.” He scratches his chin. “When that other bastard got there, he was real angry. So angry he shot his horse in the head, so I shot him. Don’t quite know why I did neither. When…. When I shot him, I realized I felt nothin’. Not joy, not regret. Just nothin’.” 

“Maybe because there was nothing to feel, Mr. Morgan. After all, a man who can so easily shoot his new horse he was so proud of moments ago cannot be much of a man at all. Perhaps… perhaps you killing him was a good thing.” 

“How do you mean?” he asks. He finally turns to you, his blue eyes searching yours. 

“Well, if he can so easily shoot a horse in that fashion, something tells me he doesn’t know how to rein in his anger, that he lets it get the better of him. Who knows? Maybe he was constantly hurting his wife or kids if he had them. Maybe you killing them will send them relief, freedom. That’s the way I have to see the world, Mr. Morgan, that our bad deeds have a positive effect somewhere in the world.” 

Arthur grunts a bit. “Maybe. But… but I’m still nothin’ more than a fighter.” 

“No you’re not. Forgive me, Mr. Morgan, but I’ve been watching you probably more than you think. You’re a good man, a wanderer, a hunter. An artist too I bet.” 

“How do you figure that?” He cocks his eyebrow a bit, staring at you from the side of his eye. Part of you thinks he’s on the verge of smiling, which encourages you. 

“I’ve seen you sitting on the edge of camp, writing and doodling in that journal of yours. John told me Dutch taught the two of you to draw, but it didn’t take with him.” 

“Hmm, a lot of things didn’t take with that boy.” 

You giggle, but don’t really want to lead this conversation into a heated discussion about John Marston and his flaws. “I bet you’re good though. Could… I mean, would you hate me for asking if I could see your drawings?” 

You are extremely doubtful that he’d give you that privilege. After all, you and Mary-Beth talked about journaling and she mentioned how Arthur is notorious for it, but how no one has ever seen the inside of his. However, Arthur surprises you by sighing heavily and taking his journal out. He flips through it quickly, finding a page that has a drawing of a large wolf on it. He hands you the book, though he seems nervous. 

Gently, you take it from him and inspect the drawing. It’s beautiful, professional even. You can so easily see the textures of the wolf’s fur, the bristles of the pines behind it. It’d be impossible to not admire the strokes put down, each one with their own intention and purpose. 

“Mr. Morgan, this is incredible. I knew you were an artist, but I didn’t think you were this good.” 

“Oh nonsense. Anyone can draw like this. Hell, I bet you ain’t that bad of an artist yourself.” 

It’s your turn to raise your brow. “You wanna bet? Give me your pencil.” 

He hands it to you and, in the lower right corner, you draw a small version of his wolf, which is far more than laughable. You’ve never been very good at drawing, but even this version is pathetic. After a few minutes, you hand him back his journal. 

“There. Now your wolf has a badly deformed companion.” 

Arthur takes one look at it and then he lets out a laugh. “I like it,” he says after a moment, his eyes meeting yours. This time, his eyes crinkle. 

You can’t help but giggle. “I’m glad you like it, Mr. Morgan.” 

Still grinning, he straightens up a bit. “Why you always callin’ me Mr. Morgan? You can call me Arthur on occasion, you know.” 

“Oh I… I know,” you say, looking down at your lap, your cheeks burning. “I… I don’t know why I do.” 

He admires your features for a moment. Arthur knows you’re sweet on him. He clued into it pretty quick when he first asked you to call him by his first name weeks ago and you refused. Then he heard Tilly and Mary-Beth joking about how they knew. He also noticed you did things for him no one else did: bringing him coffee in the morning, offering to clean his guns, how he was the only person you asked to teach you how to play poker and black jack. Other small things you did only for him. It didn’t take long for him to realize he felt something for you too.

He finds your behavior now endearing and you’ve helped cheer him up immensely. He grabs your hand and lifts it, placing a soft kiss to the back of it, which causes you to look up at him. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” he says. 

You’re blushing hard again. “You’re welcome. Arthur.” 

Just as he’s about to lean over to try and place a kiss to your lips, Grimshaw’s shrill voice carries across camp. 

“Where the hell is Y/N?! That damn girl, always disappearing! I swear when I find her…” 

“Shit,” you say and quickly yank your hands out of Arthur’s grasp and then darting outside to subdue Grimshaw. 

Arthur chuckles, his heart much lighter than it was before. He looks down at his journal, finding your poor rendition of a wolf. Little do you know that it brings him great comfort and always will. In the future, when things go bad, he opens to this page just to look at it, to remember the things you said. It’s a moment he’ll never be able to forget. 

[mwolf0epsilon]

Howbout a story where everyone is out of the studio and they get to go back to their families?

Summary: Recovery is hard when you feel disconnected from the world around you.

---

[[MORE]]

In total, Henry had spent an entire 5 years stuck inside the seemingly never-ending loop that Joey had designated as the Cycle. It was absolutely surreal to the old cartoonist, reading his ex-childhood friend turned tormentor's notes and studies on the subject matter. The neat cursive detailing mad ramblings that could pass off as the musings of an overzealous researcher observing terrified mice in a booby-trapped maze. Studying their patterns, the subsequent changes of them upon additional stimuli being added to their environment, and other insane practices that completely threw morality out of the proverbial window.

Each beginning and ending of a year, another marked failure upon a calendar oversaturated by Joey Drew's overwhelming lack of satisfaction.

Even so, as much as it ached to think about lost time, 5 years wasn't much compared to what everyone else had to endure. 20 years of inky hell were nothing to shrug about, and Henry wasn't planning on just throwing everyone out into the streets to fend for themselves.

The house so close to the mountains, an inheritance he'd never really thought would come in handy, was the only reprive these shells of people had ever had in the span of two decades full of torment. His attention the only positive social interaction that they could recall with their broken minds.

Their recovery was not his responsibility, but he felt that he owed it to them regardless of the fact. Joey's descent was entirely on the man (his heinous crimes as well), but it didn't sit well with Henry to just not do anything to help fix some of the damages of the world.

And god if it didn't fill him with hope when he watched them slowly go into the road of recovery. People on the mend, shedding their old skins to become less the product of a cruel fiddler's ambitions, and more of their old selves, albeit newer in certain aspects.

The angels remained so, with little nubby horns and skin papery white. Tired eyes of sepia toned yellows, and scars from horrors he couldn't hope to understand. That he'd seen mere shadows of while briefly imprisoned himself.

Sammy fluctuated, stuck in a cycle of trying to find himself now that he felt like he was neither Samuel Lawrence Jr, nor the Prophet that worshipped the Ink Demon. Sometimes more close to human, other times coated in thick tarry skin that reflected oddly in the light. The closest he got to his old self was very close to the truth, but his once curly blond locks were now a messy tangle of raven curls that made him look so much paler than he should be. His teeth were sharp, his eyes far too yellow, and he refused to walk around barefoot even while indoors.

Tom and Buddy were still hound-like cartoon wolves, although now the feeling of fuzz was less a tactile illusion and more of a reality. Thick winter coats and soft summer furs. The shedding was absurd, but at least if they were spotted during the day they could pass off as very big dogs just frolicking in the woods. The same could not be said for the Searchers, Lost Ones and other cartoon characters that were slowly transitioning into less revolting forms. Jack had recently become a Lost One, consistent enough to wear clothing, but still having a hard time grasping speech.

Shawn too had passed onto the Lost One phase, but his tremendous size as the largest searcher with a mighty fine top hat, had followed him into his transition. He was over 9 feet tall and (albeit more wordy than most others of his kind) surprisingly bothered by his new height. Finding clothes that fit him would be a terrible pain.

Bertrum, Lacie and Norman were a difficult topic. Their mechanical parts had ensured their forms were stable and static. They couldn't become more human in appearence, and that in turn hindered their psychological recovery considerably. Still they were fighting that uphill battle, even if very slowly.

20 whole years of suffering, and still here they were, defying Joey Drew by getting to a point where they could begin to believe they were people again.

Henry Stein couldn't be prouder.

-

A lot of the crew had little to no remaining family. It was somewhat devastating to both him and Linda, as they poured their all into locating the studio employees's living relatives, only to find obituaries and tracks leading absolutely nowhere.

Buddy's case hurt the most, seeing the kid so heartbroken standing over his families's graves and his own empty one, had certainly put things into perspective. Illness had taken his mother just shy of a year of their escape... It wasn't fair.

Susie was much the same, crying thick tears as she left flowers on her poor mama's grave. She prayed her last years had been full of kindness despite her daughter having all but vanished into thin air.

Contacting the Pendles took a few days, and Tom refused to contact any of his own relatives, as he hadn't had that good of a relationship with his extended family to begin with. The only people that ever mattered were dead well before the machine had been built. Henry found that to be an overall theme for nearly everyone, really.

Joey Drew Studios had been built upon the hardships of social outcasts and dreamers. Joey's preferred prey had been those he deemed easily manipulated. People that wouldn't be missed too terribly.

The two largest exceptions being Sammy and Norman, and even then the both of them were not easy cases when it came to family reunions.

Henry had no idea where to look for Sammy's sister, as he couldn't find records of an Abigail Marie Lawrence after a certain amount of years (perhaps she'd married and taken on her husband's name?), and Norman... Well... The Projectionist didn't like strangers.

That alone made Norman exceedingly opposed to seeking anyone out. He was scared that he might have an "episode" and bring harm to whatever family member was out there missing him. A painful choice, as the want for home was clear in his gestures, his signed words, his dreams...

Henry would just have to focus on those that could be brought back home. For now at least.

-

The day Jack's face returned to him was the very same one where he saw his husband for the first time in two decades.

He'd been a complete jitterbug, fearful that his lovely hat and wedding ring wouldn't be enough for his beloved to recognize him. Lost Ones were people shaped but still very unnatural to look upon, even if Jack's form was considerably less emaciated and his words were slowly returning to him.

Nearly chickened out too, once an older gentleman was welcomed inside and briefly spoken to by Henry. Theo had come knowing Jack wasn't completely the same, but there was no revulsion, no regrets in getting his hopes up.

Just from body language alone, Theo had seen his husband in the round figure with sad glowing eyes and a battered bowler hat that still smelled mildly of sewage. Everyone had practically melted with delight as both held each other and cried happy tears at being reunited.

And then the ink of Jack's face began to melt off. Sepia skin and dark inky eyes, a round face framed by poofy locks. Peace of mind had let the biggest wounds heal. His voice was still not completely back, but both he and Theo had always held silent conversations. This wasn't an issue.

Saying goodbye was hard, but it gave everyone hope. If Jack who'd been something as mindless as a Searcher, could heal and move on, then nothing was stopping anyone else from living their best lives as well.

The will to live was further renewed.

-

Linda ends up being the one to ultimately find Sammy's younger sister. To their surprise, it brings a slice of the Polk family right to them as well.

Abigail Marie Lawrence was only such by blood. By name, she was now a Polk herself.

Married to Nelson, one of Norman's many nephews, and a childhood friend of hers.

Together they had a son. A tired looking young man with an uncanny resemblance to his uncle of all things. Mostly in the eyes. The hazel coloration that Sammy and Abby once shared had passed on to Lucian Polk.

Meeting them was... Awkward.

And very heated.

20 years of unexpected separation had brought up a lot of turmoils that neither knew how to deal with. In the end Linda and Henry had to separate the screaming pair, enough so that both hot-headed folk could cool down and then rush back to hug each other tightly and cry. Regretful and remorseful words spilling out with the tears and snot.

Overall, not something Henry ever wanted to get caught up in ever again. The Lawrence children were a little too intense for his taste.

When asked about Norman however... Well... Henry would have rather been stuck between a screaming match than be forced to explain about the Projectionist...

Avoidance brought him questioning looks, but a simple nod and a look that silenced any further questions. Nelson Polk was a gracious man that accepted when others needed time to themselves. He was only a brute by appearence after all.

He'd stated calmly that if Norman ever felt ready, he'd be welcomed with open arms regardless of whatever twisted form he may have taken on.

Layer that same day, Sammy told Henry that upon being told this, the Projectionist seemed happier in some way.

-

Recovery is hard when you feel disconnected from the world around you. For a long while, Henry feared that the gap between the years of their freedom, imprisonment, and subsequent rescue, would prove too much for everyone who'd become an inky abomination.

Was he ever so glad to be mistaken.

While there were many bumps on the proverbial road, and many a trial to face, everyone was thriving. Getting used to a world that was alien to them in some ways, but full of possibilities for them to explore.

Some were greatly limited by their conditions, but they too were managing.

Lacie had been steadily repaired and updated with her and Tom's combined efforts, and together they'd eventually figured out how to give Bertrum a better quality of life, through slowly converting his amusement ride body into something of a spider-like mobile unit. A little frightening at first, but progress towards constructing him an animatronic body perhaps? The world was their oyster. Their terrifying mechanical oyster.

Sammy's human form had eventually stabilized to where he only became his inky self when at his very limit, and Norman's mental faculties had return to a point where he finally felt safe reuniting with his family. They were initially quite horrified by the state of him, but didn't reject him. Merely fretted that he may be in pain.

His wife had long since remarried, but that wasn't much of an issue for him. Norman liked her new wife, she was everything the mother of his children deserved! And he'd thanked her as best he could for looking after his little ones when he couldn't.

Through a lot of home-schooling (bless Linda for being an excellent teacher), Buddy had finished the studies he'd abandoned to provide for his family. While he couldn't exactly get a job, it felt good to accomplish a goal he'd thought impossible.

He became a bit of an honorary Stein once Linda and the girls took a shine to him. It hurt that he couldn't live with them back in the city, but he liked the freedom the woodland location gave him. He was a wolf after all, even if at heart he was a young lad full of artistic ambition.

Susie and Allison were the easiest to rehabilitate in the end. They fought their demons and they came to terms with who they were. While Susie still had a few issues with her image and identity, she was doing formidably well in the writing industry.

Disguising her tale as a story of fiction as a means to vent, had sparked a talent she'd never thought she had.

Allison in turn took up the chore of making their home self-sustaining. Gardening, water filtration, the works. She processed her pain and grief through hard work and physical activities. Then when she was satisfied, she'd sit under the stars and reflect.

Many times she was joined by others who found the stars to be great listeners to their own plights. The company felt comfortable.

It felt good to trust again. Felt even better when a certain wolf sat besides her and admire the expanses of their freedom right beside her.

Yes, Henry Stein was truly proud of everyone's progress. He was glad he'd stuck around to witness it.

[spnreactionblogging]

LAST HOLIDAY

spoilers below - backdated from 10/9/020

oh hey abaddon, is alaina huffman in this? that would be nice all these beheadings, damn I couldn't watch this live when it aired because I don't have cable but I bought season 15 on amazon this time last fucking year so technically any time after 2AM I could've watched it, not actually sure I'll make it through everything tonight because I started at 10pm and I am Tired the livestream misha did was fun for the first 30 minutes but then I had to turn it off to avoid spoilers so I guess I will revisit that later I like sam's flannel in this one too. like gold, light grey, dark grey? A+. this is queer flannel. this is from EXPRESS, not Kohl's the bunker has a gas stove I guess which I should've known having all the appliances fail suddenly is very relatable to me and perhaps one of the worst monsters of all don't mock luigi, he knows how to deal with ghosts sam has the plans and dean just smashes buttons god that burger does look great "meat man" who wrote this one ah the dean deluxe the scooby doo boxers are pretty cute honestly who is jeremy adams 1958, yeesh "everybody?" "everybody's dead" standby mode huh, were they supposed to have like... lights this plot is very narnia, wake up to find out everyone you loved is dead they have extra abilities in the lead-up to the final boss, and the network is willing to spend more on the electricity to give them more lighting sam is right to doubt anything ever being good is anyone going to tell jack they're leaving him alone with some random person and lmao thank you sam as I was typing this he pointed that out jack's shirt/sweater looks very cozy snickerdoodles are great magic roomba... thanks for calling him the son of satan, lucifer doesn't even want to be called satan "ignoring your trauma doesn't make you healthy" THANK YOU SAM time + space, indeed uh just throwing this out there he could use some emotional support too probably please accept this sandwich as an offer of solidarity god it's nice to see alex be allowed to emote again leave these guys alone, they're drinking blood packs with curly straws aw, come on :( those guys didn't deserve that I guess if she's a wood nymph she can summon a christmas tree? where's the secret christmas decoration storage room in the bunker yeah tell sam to smile :\ I hate holidays except halloween god I love how jack waves I do love how much jensen loves wearing goofy outfits, this made me smile big time. I'm glad they clearly had so much fun on the set with this stuff especially knowing what comes next IRL :( she's right to be worried about his cholesterol just waiting for the other shoe to drop with something terrible befalling this group watching dean run in that outfit is hilarious poor jack doesn't deserve all this but I'm glad that she's helping him kind of work through the grief where the fuck is cas so it seems like ultra fucked up to be watching them do no-knock shit into people's homes and shooting them no questions asked, and it has always seemed fucked up but right now the methodical nature of this and their goofy smiles taking packed lunches while setting out to murder people minding their own business is not cool with me and never has been the 50s were bad, actually god sam has the hammer of thor. thank fuck. is it may? is it sam's birthday in-universe? what files was she going through, eyes emoji jack is smart, actually oh boy is she brainwashed, are they keeping her held hostage with magic or something, because the men of letters don't give a FUCK about monsters and will use them jack's a millennial and can look up instructions for how to operate a reel to reel and 100% knows what it is because he lives in the bunker "son of a bitch" jack's spending too much time with dean sam has a big date huh, I hope it's with eileen "abercrombie and bitch" IT IS EILEEN!!! dean should definitely be nicer to sam poor jack has no one to turn to for help :( where is cas!!!! can they not afford to pay misha also I don't feel sorry for nazis there are a lot of beheadings on this show, pulling someone's head off definitely seems like yanking on a plant vs pruning it with sharp pruning shears or whatever oh you're shitty lady "do you ever think they're scared of what you'll do to someone else" uh yeah there was that time they locked him in a coffin please stop hurting this child if she's so sure sam and dean would approve then she'd do it when sam and dean can see her yeah I am not surprised she was poisoning him MAKE THE BUNKER SAFE AGAIN!!!!! maga shit, get rid of all the monsters, says a monster the writing here is.... iffy. little heavyhanded dean's thinking about it, that's what's so fucked. like "look I already tried to kill him one time" we just keep comparing jack to snakes but I prefer when yockey's doing it sam looks so much like vincent from silent hill 3 in this outfit sam really is the smart one. jack's a child, he hasn't had a lot of experience with this. dean... I guess tried to explain what he wanted but didn't realized he'd get overruled but sam is smart because sam knows how to deal with witchy shit. like he'd survive in a hansel and gretel situation. GET HIM JACK GET HIM this is BULLSHIT dean tried to kill him and he didn't answer the question re: "do you still think i'm a monster" fuuuuuck this WHERE IS CASTIEL, why is jack always trapped alone with dean and unable to get away OTL dean won't admit he himself is a monster either lol oops. or that sam is. oops!! dean is mourning the loss of omelets and his new mom who can cook and some semblance of normality "evil mary poppins" is very funny to me because I've been watching venture bros and dr killinger has been showing up how long has this been actually? sam's birthday is in may, did they actually celebrate all those holidays in real time? I got the impression that it was a holidays-speedrun but now I'm doubting myself why is it always torture THANK YOU SAM!! SAM SAID IT!!!! "jack is not a monster, he's a kid who's gone from one tragedy to another" THANK YOU!!! sam just won so many points with me for saying it out loud "pain is just weakness leaving the body" huh, at least it opened the door :\ sam poor baby lost all his fucking fingernails trying to stand up for jack :( it's wild seeing smoeone's eyes glow green this is why cas can't be here, because castiel could just stop her just go back to your forest lady sam's right, the men of letters just use monsters for their own ends sam goes "we care about him" dean goes "oh yeah jack's useful" which to be fair dean's trying to logic/rationalize it, that the world needs jack, but I don't know that those lines would have been reversed insofar as characterization feeling authentic she's having trouble processing her own grief ah yeah there it is "sorry I ripped your fingernails off one by one" yeah god she hasn't seen the sun in decades?? "it's an interdimensional geoscope" "I looked into it earlier and didn't see anything" "oh that's... not good" I'm glad sam and jack are talking about how jack is feeling and if he needs to talk I'm glad dean is cooking happy birhday jack where is castiel for this I have mixed feelings but I guess this turned out okay, still waiting for DEAN TO APOLOGIZE TO JACK? but dean never apologizes to anyone. the cake is a step in the right direction but cake doesn't make up for locking him in a box and threatening to kill him several times over, sorry

[doof-doofblog]

EastEnders Iconic Episodes:- Max & Stacey

Tuesday 4th August 2020

Good evening everyone! Hope you've all had a good week! I'm back again tonight with another fantastic memorable iconic episode, last night's episode was the 2007 Christmas episode revolving around the Branning family and the affair of Max & Stacey is finally revealed to everyone, in such dramatic nail-biting circumstances! I think this episode will go down in history as one of the most memorable Christmas episodes. This episode was originally aired 25th December 2007!

For those of you who watched Secrets Of The Square on Monday evening, you will know that Jake Wood who plays Max Branning admitted that the Max and Stacey affair was only meant to last 6 months, but the script writers decided to extend the story and make it the Christmas story-line, thank God they did as, to this day, it has remained one of the most iconic and memorable EastEnders moments. 

Wow! So it looks as if the episode has started right at the moment where the affair has been revealed by the video recording. The video has been put into the TV and all the family gathered around have seen and heard everything that has been recorded and heard the words out of Max and Stacey's mouth. Max is stood there looking guilty as sin, dressed as Santa, as his poor wife Tanya and all his children hear about him actually falling in love with Stacey. Telling everyone it's a joke and not to hear a word of it ... although everyone knows that what they're seeing is true! He quickly grabs the remote and stops the video before anything else can be shown, even though that they have seen and heard enough to believe it's true. Bradley is seen seething with rage, Lauren leaves the room clearly fearing that she is going to be the one to blame as it was supposed to be a gift from her to Stacey and Bradley, as you see, before she leaves the room Stacey looks over to her as if to say "What have you recorded?" but obviously, poor Lauren had no idea. 

Max is seriously trying to worm his way out of it, desperately trying to convince them all it was a joke, even looking to Stacey for backup ... looking back now, it's ridiculous for Max to even say that Stacey was going to show Bradley on their honeymoon! Not a very good cover up story! But Tanya knows something isn't right and she's eager for the tape to carry on, she states the fact that the video clearly shows them snogging. Stacey can't even bare to say a word, tears slowly pouring down her cheeks as she realises what has been uncovered, Max is shouting at her, demanding her to tell them all it's a joke. She looks up at Bradley and gently says the words "I'm sorry!" ... that's all she could muster.  Bradley nods his head, knowing that what has been revealed is true, he lashes out at Max - "I'll kill you! I'll kill you, Dad!" - Max goes flying, the Christmas tree goes flying, Jack has to hold Bradley back and Tanya is just distraught, she needs to be away from everyone and leaves the room! 

This whole reveal is the moment where everything breaks down for the Branning family. I do feel for Stacey in a way, because just because of some stupid mistake, she - in a way - is to blame for the breakdown of the Branning family. She was the one who caused them to fall apart, of course Max had his part to play, I guess you could say, if he never cheated on Tanya, none of the issues with the Brannings would've never happened - Lauren's alcoholism, Abi's death, the break down of Max and Tanya to name but a few. The other devastating thing also is how much Abi doted on her Dad, this was most likely, the first time she had ever seen him in a terrible light, where he had done something extremely wrong. Bradley rushes away to let off some steam, little Abi is left watching from the top of the stairs, she asks her Dad, "Do you love Stacey now?" Max completely rubs it off and explains how much he loves her and her siblings and her Mum, he tells her to go upstairs to make sure Lauren is okay and she sweetly wipes away a tear from her face and smiles. It makes me sad that all Abi wanted was to have her family together, forever! She was such a sweet soul! 

Jean is also a sweet soul in this too, sat there with her Christmas hat on from a Christmas cracker, Charlie tells her that they had all leave and she ever so politely says "We can't, we're guests!" She's unsure as to whether what she has seen is real or not, she asks Stacey for reassurance and all she can do is tell her Mum to go home!  Jack is out looking for Bradley, only to find him throwing up in the square, he tries to explain to him that what he's seen could be wrong, it might not be what he thinks it means. Tanya is all over the place, not wanting to be anywhere near Max, she finds Lauren in her bedroom and asks if it was a joke, poor Lauren doesn't know what to say! She has no idea whether what she found was real or not, all she knows is that her Dad told her he loved her Mum. Tanya consoles her daughter and explains it wasn't her fault, she leaves both Abi and Lauren together before she confront them.

That's when it all kicks off, the acting between Jo Joyner and Lacey Turner is brilliant in this scene! Tanya throwing insults at Stacey as she weeps and tries to explain that it meant nothing as was just a horrible fling. Tanya lashes a good slap on Stacey's face, she throws both Max and Stacey out of her house. Stacey begs Sean to stay behind and explain that she's sorry and that she never meant to hurt anyone, as she leaves Sean listens to the living room door and can hear the tape being played again - poor Tanya torturing herself hearing the words a second time as her eyes fill with tears. I have to say for everyone involved in this story, the acting is fantastic! Jo Joyner, Lacey Turner, Jake Wood, Charlie Clements - everyone! The acting and the writing is what makes it so so epic! I can't believe that this Christmas is over 10 years old, it's amazing how moments like this live on in a soap like EastEnders, it's truly an EastEnders classic that made everyone's toes curl. 

It's amazing how an affair can affect so many lives, even Dot is utterly devastated for her grandson, Bradley. If i'm not mistaken, it took a bit of a while for Dot to forgive Stacey for what she had done. I'm a little bit amazed as to why Sean is still there at Tanya's when you'd think he'd need to be there for Stacey more than anyone at that moment in time. I mean, okay, Stacey asked him to stay and explain but he's been left to console Tanya also. She collapses in tears in his arms, asking desperately "What am I going to do?" I guess, in a way of making herself feel better, she starts to kiss Sean, but even he backs away and explains that she is not thinking straight and it'll only make things worse. He tells her calmly that he'll look after her, but she scoffs and tells him leave, she is left in her house with her children upstairs as baby Oscar cries. Meanwhile Jack has taken Bradley to the Vic to get a drink down him to help him consume the information he's been given. Another fantastic scene between Scott Maslen and Jake Wood unravels as Max goes to find Bradley, only to see that Jack found him first. Jack is trying to get his brother to do what's right and acknowledge he's made a huge mistake and he should be looking after his son, Max can't seem to grasp it as he keeps calling his brother "Golden Boy!" he only goes quiet when Jack shouts at him "I'm trying to help you! Whether you like it or not, i'm brother and i'm trying to help you!" He softly explains that Bradley is in a very bad place and he needs to tread lightly if he wants to try and explain to his son and continue to have a bond with him. 

I feel sorry for Bradley also in this episode, he was such a lovely, lovely character. He was one of my favourites when he was in the soap. Bradley and Stacey, for me, were another one of EastEnders iconic couples, it was as if they were meant to be together. Regardless of how many rocks in the road they hit, they would always come back together. When Max finds him in the Vic, drowning his sorrows, it's horrible to watch as he tries to pull away from his father, not wanting to hear a word he has to say. Unfortunately he pulls away too quick and loses his balance and falls, knocking a load of drinks off the bar. Of course, the locals have no idea what's going on, Phil makes a snide dig at him saying he can't hold his booze! Peggy politely asks Max to take him, but then Bradley makes a stand suggesting everyone thinks he's a joke ... which couldn't be further from the truth! He shows the picture of Stacey in his key-ring and claims her to be a slut! Another tremendous moment on the Square is next, when Max is chasing Bradley down the street, them shouting at each other, Bradley trying to get away from his Dad, not willing to hear a word he says! Max is getting incredibly frustrated as he tries to explain himself without letting a word out, he slams onto to car bonnet which causes the alarm to blare. Bradley trips as he goes up toward his front steps, only to then turn and give his Dad a smack in the mouth as he goes to help him up. Max is refusing to give up as he follows Bradley into his apartment, Bradley still inconsolable as he face drips with tears. 

Oh gosh I remember!!! Tanya is left in her house with her children, only the sound of baby Oscar crying can be heard. Her eyes smudged with mascara, she goes into the draw and finds a tub of pills and spills them out onto the floor. I remember seeing this and thinking, "She's not going to top herself, is she?!" If Abi hadn't of walked in at the moment, would Tanya have gone ahead and perhaps maybe try to commit suicide? Who knows? Abi luckily stops her in her tracks before she can swallow any, she soon realises she's making a mistake. She demands her children to pack a bag as she's preparing for them to leave.  Poor Abi, no wonder ended up with some troubles, a broken family, watching her brother die after falling from the Queen Vic roof, watching her Dad slowly recover after being ran over by her sister, almost catching her Mum take an overdose of pills, then having to cope with her sister's alcohol addiction. It didn't hit me until now how much little Abi had been through during her life on the Square. Such a small, yet fantastic little actress ... we watched her grow and bloom on the Square until she sadly passed, near the end its true she did have her demons, but to be honest, wasn't it all about to happen at some point? Didn't we see it coming after everything she had been through? It all makes perfect sense to me now! Lorna Fitzgerald was brilliant as Abi Branning, i'd love to have her back on the Square, still makes me sad to this day that they killed her off. Plus it also saddens me that Max has had two children die of the same circumstances - by falling off the Queen Vic roof! Madness isn't it?! 

Back at Bradley's apartment, Max is finally getting his chance to explain ... even though it's making Bradley sick to his stomach how his Dad could betray him in such a way to sleep with his wife! Wow! Am I right in thinking that the whole Max and Stacey affair lasted a whole year? As in this conversation, Max is explaining that the Christmas before, Stacey came onto him - even when Bradley was thinking about giving it another go with her. It's amazing to think that they had been able to drag this story on for a whole year, perhaps maybe longer! Max is doing everything he can to apologise to his son, without saying the word "Sorry" ... he explains that their fling started before he and Stacey got back together, and when they eventually did she chose Bradley. I love how in this scene, both men are teary - have runny noses, it makes it all feel incredibly real! But that's what makes it so fantastic and so memorable, the reveal, the fights, the aftermath! Max even saying to his son not to give up on his wife, because she loves him and she has a good heart, everything that Bradley knows to be true! Even though he knows Stacey loves him, Bradley can't bare to even be around his Dad right now, even saying to him that he means nothing to him! He's ripped his life apart twice, once as a young boy and now as an adult. Max tries to persuade him to give Stacey another chance, but Bradley just tells him to leave. Meanwhile, unbeknown to Max, Tanya has packed her things - along with Lauren and Abi - and is preparing to leave the Square and Max for good. As he leaves Bradley's apartment he bumps into Stacey, he tells her that he tried his best and it's basically now her turn to have a talk with her husband. They cross each other's path and carry on to each of their spouses, Max gets home to find his daughters waiting at the bottom of the stairs with their luggage and he goes to find Tanya upstairs. 

Meanwhile, Stacey is finally coming face to face with Bradley since the beginning of the episode where she told him she was sorry.  Back at Max and Tanya's, Max finds Tanya with suitcase ready to leave the Square, she tells him that she's leaving him with the kids - once again, raised voices are heard and again, it's young Abi who witnesses her parents fighting, she runs downstairs to be with Lauren and as Max tries to stop Tanya from leaving, he grabs hold of her bags and tugs at them, begging her not to leave, also causing  Tanya to lose her balance and fall backwards down the stairs and end up in a heap on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, much to the horror of their daughters. 

If I'm right in thinking the episode which follows this one, is just as epic! This Christmas episode was basically the start of where everything went wrong for Max and his family, it caused the break down of his marriage, which has lead on to many flings with other Walford women. I truly believe that Tanya will always be the one for Max, she always has and always will be. She was the one who he had children with, to my knowledge, Max has had no other children with anyone else, considering the amount of women he has slept with! Tanya is the only mother of his children, and I believe that will be the only reason he will hold a light for her. It's the same with Stacey and Bradley, much to the sadness of Bradley's tragic death, I truly believe that Stacey won't love anyone as much as she loved Bradley, I feel that they will always be soulmates. 

I've loved re-watching all these epic iconic EastEnders episodes, I'm sure you'll agree they have all been brilliant and very much deserve to be in the list of iconic episodes. I'm not too sure what the next iconic episode will be, but i'm very much looking forward to finding out! I hope you've all enjoyed reading my blog! I can't wait for the soap to be on our screens again very soon! Look after yourself folks and I'll be back again with another post very soon! xXx  

[albionscastle]

First Impressions 12 - California Dreaming

I know it’s taking forever to finish these fics. This whole year has been pretty hard on us financially and with my health.....my anxiety and depression seem to be winning right now but I am fighting them, hard. 

This chapter took me a month to write and I still am not happy with it.

Fic Masterlist

In this chapter, an unexpected meeting brings a lot of feelings to the surface.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS 12 CALIFORNIA DREAMING

LIZZIE

She wanted to be happy for Charlie, she really did and deep down perhaps she was. But she couldn’t help the feeling of betrayal that had hit her the moment he had told her his news.

“I’m moving to Los Angeles, Red, I got an offer that I just couldn’t say no to.”

If she was honest, Lizzie knew just from the look on his face what job he’d taken, but she had at least let him tell her himself. To her credit, she hadn’t yelled, or cried, she wasn’t angry, not even when Charlie mentioned that Colin had been insistent that he had all the right qualifications for the post. Because he did, he had literally gone to school for event planning with a little tourism thrown in for good measure. The “job” that Colin had tried to talk her into was perfect for Charlie and no matter what she thought deep down, she couldn’t justify trying to talk him out of going.

It was 3am on New Years Day and Lizzie had never felt so much like crying. Charlie was asleep in her bed, having spent several hours laying there with her reminding her that he knew how much she hated Colin, how he also knew that he had been the second choice, only asked because Colin knew that taking Charlie away would hurt her. He told her how much he loved her, how he would stay if she asked him to because she mattered more than a job.

She believed him.

So she had swallowed down the pain and told him to go, she was not going to be the reason why he didn’t take a chance to live his dream. For the first time she regretted never having told him what had truly happened with Colin, how bad it had really been. Somehow she had never been able to and to tell him now would have just been an emotional manipulation, and that wasn’t who she was. Charlie would leave, and they had both agreed to act as though it was no big thing, just to piss off Colin.

“You could come with me you know.” this had been whispered several times.

“No, this is what you want Charlie, not me.” she had whispered back. “Besides I would only cramp your L.A style. I’ll come visit though, I promise.”

“Soon, like really soon, Liz. I won’t know what to do without you.”

“You are going to be great, just don’t let Colin bully you. We had to grow up sometime.”

She had said it with a laugh while her heart twisted painfully in her chest, her throat tightening as Charlie had burrowed closer. Growing up sucked, and the lessons never seemed to stop, more than anything she wished she could be 17 again. Back then her only worries had been the SATs and what to wear for junior prom, now it was all huge life altering decisions and feelings that seemed so overwhelming that she just wanted to shrink away and hide.

There was snow falling, heavy and wet and everything outside her window was white and still. Too early for traffic and for the pristine coating to be chewed up by footprints and mud, it was her favorite time of winter. For the first time though, as she looked out and saw the town where she’d lived almost her whole life, she hated it, hated how she felt trapped there, hated that everyone else seemed to be moving forward while she sat still and stagnated. She let the tears come then, fat and wet streaking her cheeks and dampening the front of her shirt. Feeling sorry for herself she wrapped her throw around her shoulders, leaning against the wall and let herself cry for everything, all the things she hadn’t really let herself cry for.

She cried for the girl who’d been all hope and ambition until she let a man take it all away, she cried for the girl curled into a corner trying to protect herself from the fists of that same man, for the daughter who hadn’t been able to tell her parents why and instead had taken on the disappointment of vanished hopes. She cried for all the times she’d been too afraid to change, too afraid to put herself back into the world again, for all the times she’d seen the happy couples in the park and wanted so much to be like them. She cried because she was lonely because she was hurt and tired and because she was wasting her life.

She cried until she was dry and exhausted, swollen eyes unable to remain open as she curled into a ball on the window seat her only escape from the pain being oblivion.

It was still dark when his arms wrapped around her, his body curling in behind her, his breath on her neck. Still mostly asleep she turned in his embrace, burrowing her face into the warmth of his chest, the only place she had ever felt so secure and loved.

“I don’t want you to go, please don’t leave me.” she whispered.

He held her tighter, his breath catching.

“I’ll never leave ye, Elizabeth. I promise.”

No wait, that wasn’t right. Pulling back she tried to focus, confused by the feel of fingers tracing her jaw, lifting her chin to meet his blue eyes in the snowlight.

“I would haf stayed if ye’d asked me, Elizabeth.” he said sadly, his mouth downturned. “Don’t ye know I would haf done anythin fer ye, if only ye’d asked.”

Jolting upward with a gasp Lizzie was met with only empty, cold air and an ice caked window. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to catch her breath, fingers feeling for the presence of another human only to meet nothing. It was so real, fuck, how could it have felt so real?

How could it have been him? It was Charlie who was leaving, he was the one she wanted to stay so why the fuck had her exhausted mind conjured up that vision of Jack? She was glad he was gone, had barely even thought about him in the weeks that had passed, except in anger whenever she saw how sad Maya was. How could she have such a dream about the man who she was certain had instigated her sister’s broken heart?

How could she suddenly want nothing more than to fall asleep again just so she could feel that feeling again?

In true Lizzie fashion instead of dealing with the way she was feeling, she buried her head in the sand. The next week was taken up with work and getting Charlie ready for his move to California and she devoted all her energy to making sure he would never know how much she didn’t want him to go. It was exhausting, pretending to be happy, refraining from every conversation being a warning to watch out for Colin. He deserved someone to be excited for him, and not just his Dad, though Mr Lucas was extremely vocal in his happiness for Charlie’s opportunity. Lizzie couldn’t fault him, the only thing that really mattered was Charlie.

Unless of course you spoke to her mother.

Chloe was all smiles and encouragement for Charlie ...in public, privately though Lizzie hadn’t heard the end of it since the news broke. Oh how upset she was that Lizzie had turned down both a proposal and a job offer that would have put her in the world her mother saw fit. Charlie was a good enough boy but he wasn’t her Lizzie and she couldn’t stand Mr Lucas and his constant crowing about his good luck. What was going to become of them all now with Maya dumped and Lizzie intent on ruining them all? Lizzie was just glad that Maya was far enough away not to have to listen to it all and witness her heartbreak paraded around like this.

Colin had been wisely silent on the whole matter, though Lizzie had seen him at least twice at Charlie’s as they packed. It was probably wrong of her but she made sure she ‘inferred’ that Charlie knew everything, and that one false move on his part would bring his castle crashing down. There was a perverse pleasure to be had in the way he blanched whenever he saw the two of them talking and for the first time Lizzie actually believed that there was going to be a time when the mere thought of him didn’t fill her with fear or nausea. Now that he couldn’t bully her anymore he had lost the hold she never knew he’d had, three years of her life wasted being afraid of...that.

“I’ll text you every day and send a million pics.” Charlie was saying as they walked through the airport. “And you are coming the first week of March, I’ll buy the ticket.”

“If you want me there Charlie, I’ll be there.” It was hard to keep from crying as she held his hand and even Mr Lucas looked to be on the verge of tears. “I’ll keep an eye on your Dad too.”

“I think he’ll be fine, he’s only been waiting for me to get my ass into gear and move out so Sarah Long can move in.” Charlie chuckled.

“Since when has that been a thing?”

“Oh about a year, they started taking some class at the Y and apparently sparks flew, it’s better than leaving him alone, he wouldn’t be able to cope.”

Mr Lucas had, about 15 years previously, been struggling with alcohol after his wife had up and left, taking their daughter Mariah. As it turned out she wasn’t his daughter and the betrayal had left the poor man desolate and his then 14 year old son the only functioning adult in the household. Lizzie had been on her way home from school when she had seen the neighbor boy struggling to carry his father into the house and without thinking had gone to help. That day had been the day that her and Charlie had cemented their friendship. There were no questions, no judgement just an offer of a friend and a few meals when she could sneak them past her mother. When Chloe had discovered what her 11 year old daughter was up to she had jumped in and taken control, driving Mr Lucas to a rehab facility and keeping Charlie with them until he was well enough to return. Lizzie’s parents both had made sure the truth about his condition never got out, they’d paid the mortgage and bills so he wouldn’t lose everything and then given him a stern lecture about abandoning his son in drink.

He hadn’t touched a drop since and had become the best father a young  man could ask for, but he had never been without Charlie so it was a relief to Lizzie to find out about Mrs Long, though she was going to have to have a word with her boss about keeping secrets.

It remained to be seen if she would be alright without him, Charlie was her rock and the person who could make her laugh at herself whenever she got too morose, she was going to miss that.

And the hugs, those most of all, so for the last one she held tight, not wanting to let him go. Breathing in the smell of the only person in the world outside her family that she truly loved, Lizzie almost believed that this was the end of everything.

“Remember Red, what we talked about. It’s time to let go and fly.”

Nodding forlornly she let Charlie wipe her tears away.

“I’m only a phone call away, Liz, remember that.”

“Unless you have a hot date.” she tried to joke.

“Even then, I’ll always be on the other end if you need me.”

And then he was gone, leaving her and Mr Lucas crying on the other side of the airport glass.

Leaving her empty.

JACK

He liked Italy, the food, the architecture, the history, the people. If he wasn’t so in love with Scotland he was sure he could be quite happy here, even in the summer. Not that he had much of an idea about how hot the summers might be, but they couldn’t be anything worse than he’d already experienced. Here at least there were some nice hills, a cool stone villa and a pool, for when the weather got warmer. Right now though he sat the window staring at the vista, admiring the beauty and completely ignoring the glass of wine he’d poured himself. The book he was supposed to be reading rested on his lap, opened to the first page and then forgotten as his thoughts had run wild.

It was the dream, he told himself, that stupid fucking dream.

He blamed it on his da, not that he’d ever let him know that, but he’d been a semi wreck since Christmas and all because of that one fucking photo.

And perhaps the many more that’d he’d secretly taken from Elizabeth’s Instagram account.

It wasn’t as if he looked through them every day, he tried to reason, but it was often, too often. With a sigh he noticed a few snowflakes flitting about on the wind, remembering that he’d read a weather report for Chicago saying it was going to be 50 below. He didn’t want to be concerned about Elizabeth, but he was. Would she still go to work in that cold or would she stay cosy in her flat? Would they lose power, was it even safe to go outside? If he was there he would turn off her alarm, call her off sick and make sure they were wrapped up in her duvet watching Netflix all day.

But he wasn’t there.

No-one really was, not for Elizabeth. He knew Charlie had moved to L.A a fortnight before, Maya was still in London so who was there to make sure that his red headed spitfire didn’t do something stupid like shovel snow in Antarctic weather?

It should have been him.

That was the mantra going through his head when he’d woken in the early hours of the morning, tangled in his sheets and filled with misery. It had felt so real, her arms around his shoulders as she hugged him behind. He’d felt her hands under his, felt the fall of her hair over his neck as her mouth brushed his cheek.

“You left me.” she whispered in his ear. “Why did you leave?”

He’d turned to her, to tell her that he was sorry, that he wasn’t going anywhere and all he saw was her fading into shadows.

“It’s too late now.” she whispered before vanishing.

He was afraid to go back to sleep.

It was just a fucking dream.

Elizabeth Bennett didn’t care one bit if he was here or there and that was the truth, no matter what his da said. Attraction was just that, he was sure she’d forgotten all about him as soon as he left, except for a few angry memories. It was him who was sitting here moping, beating himself up over what he could have done differently. To what end? It would have gone the same way except maybe they would have had a few pleasurable bouts in the bedroom before he left town. In the end he still would have ended up right where he was right now, so what was the point of wishing it had been different?

She was different, that was the damn point. Elizabeth had been like a breath of fresh cold air in his lungs, a wake up call to the cunt he’d become. Unlike anyone he’d met before she had been so open, even if that was a bad thing for his ego, not once had she given him an inch when he didn’t deserve it. The woman had been trying, challenging and stubborn, but she’d also been kind, thoughtful, funny and warm. It was those moments that he held close to his heart now, few and far between he now realised that they had been everything. He’d given her no reason to like him or respect him but she had shown him a person who would build him up when deserved and tear him down to earth just as quickly. She had wanted nothing that he had to give, except maybe common friendliness which he’d withheld, his profession, his money...none of it meant anything to her and that meant something to him.

He had fucked up royally.

LIZZIE

When Maya came home Lizzie was disappointed that she’d been unable to get any sort of closure. Except for when it came to Caro. On that subject her sister had a surprising amount to say.

“I feel like such an idiot Lizzie. I can’t believe I actually thought than woman was my friend.” she was stomping around Lizzie’s place, a pint of ice cream in her hand, waving the spoon about.

Lizzie ducked the flying metal, flopping down on the couch with a sigh. They’d been working on Maya’s law school options, as well as her own options when the paperwork for Oxford had come to the forefront. Lizzie had never seen Maya so angry, but she was worried that her sister was going to let her heart rule her head and needed to get her back on task.

“She did a good job of playing the part, May, you really can’t be blamed.”

“She’s a fucking actress! And you saw right through her.”

“In your defence she was a total bitch to me from day one, she was nice to you.”

“Why did she even bother?” Maya muttered miserably. “She made it perfectly clear that she couldn’t stand me when we met up in London.”

“I’m so sorry, May.”

“I mean I can see her being busy and all, but to realise that she ignored all my emails….that just hurt. If I hadn’t run into her at Harrods I never would have seen her.”

“If she wants to be a snobby bitch then let her, she’s got nothing on you.”

“I just, God Lizzie if you could have seen her face when she told me that Tom knew I was there and just didn’t care. It was like she enjoyed it.”

“She did. Look she’s wanted nothing more than to separate you and Tom from the beginning and she’s succeeded, hurting you more is just icing on the cake for her. She’s the sort that thinks she’s better than everyone else and she would stomp on her own mother to get ahead.”

“Why didn’t he want to see me? I just wish I knew what I did wrong.”

Nothing, Lizzie thought bitterly. It was all him, he was the one who’d barrelled into Maya’s life and turned it upside down before ghosting her and leaving her a mess. It was up to her now to help pick up the pieces of what he’d left behind. She would never forgive him for breaking her sister’s heart. Never.

It wasn’t until after Maya had gone to sleep that Lizzie cleared away all the paperwork they’d been working on, seeing the acceptance letter from Oxford. Maya had circled the tuition amount and added a question mark, it was the harder choice but it was the school she’d always dreamed of going to. She left it on top of the pile, it was doable but Maya had refused to even consider it since Tom left and it would be a shame if she let him stand in the way of her dream. Lizzie refused to watch her sister walk the same path she had.

With that in mind she made some tea and sat in the window to watch the snow. February was the worst month for ice and cold and it made everything so miserable. From under the cushion she pulled out the papers she had been working on when Maya had shown up in a tizzy. They were crumpled from being shoved away so quickly but not so much that she couldn’t finish filling them out. If Maya and Charlie’s situations had taught her anything it was that it was high time she looked to her own dreams. She had options, none of which would be cheap, but like she would tell Maya, it was worth it.

There were seven envelopes by the time she was done, tucked away inside a book until she was ready to tell her family what she had planned. It could be that she received seven rejections and she didn’t think she could live with the pity if that happened. Best to wait until she knew exactly what her options were before she started letting people know.

It was tempting to just lay back in the window and sleep with the illusion of snow falling around her but she had been avoiding the window seat since New Years, the dream that she’d had about Jack had unsettled her that much. Something else she was avoiding, she would die before she would admit to how much she’d wanted it to be real, for just a few moments. It hadn’t lasted, it was all too easy to remember all the reasons why the man was a complete jackass, but that dream had felt so real, and she’d felt so good in it. In her most private moments she even admitted to herself that she’d known the moment she’d smelled dream man that it was Jack and not Charlie, and still she’d begged him to stay.

It was fucked up.

What was left of February and most of March was simply spent as it always had been, the weekly dinners, work and navigating the snow and ice outside her door. She took to working concessions for her landlord, everyone in a 10 mile radius came to the movies when the weather got bad, there was nothing else to do. It helped him out and he even paid her, money that she put straight into her savings. Responses to her applications had yet to arrive and she didn’t expect them to for a couple of months, but she was going to save anyway. Shaving down her already limited spending was easy enough, she got rid of her streaming services, her two monthly boxes and sold her car, every penny going to her fund. She could watch any movie in her building for free and the library was a block away. Eating at work whenever she could she cut down on food costs...ice cream was now a luxury item, much to Maya’s disgust. Lizzie was determined though, she’d said it before and been derailed by one thing or another, it was time to face the future.

Whatever that meant.

Right now it meant that she needed to stop procrastinating and pack for the trip she was anticipating and dreading in equal measure. Good to his word, Charlie had kept in touch daily, even though the two months he’d been gone still felt like a lifetime. Which was why she hadn’t said no when he’d offered to fly her out to him the last week in March, even though she knew it would mean she had to see Colin. Charlie still had to work, but according to him he just couldn’t go another day without seeing his best mate. So she’d wrangled the time off work and decided to brush off her worries, they would all still be there waiting when she got back and she deserved a little bit of a break.

It felt strange to have her swimsuit in a bag when there was still a foot of snow on the ground and more expected while she was away. Even stranger was the fact that Lydia hadn’t made a peep about not being invited, even though normally she would have been pouting and moaning for at least a week. She hadn’t even raised a brow which Lizzie found suspicious enough that she asked Maya to keep an extra close eye on her, something was up with that girl. Another problem that would no doubt be waiting there for her when she got back.

However much she thought she had missed Charlie was nothing, the moment she saw him standing in the airport with a stupid sign she had started bawling, clutching at him as though he would disappear if she let go for even a second. There were almost as many tears from him as well and later, as they stood watching the sunset at the beach they laughed about the looks they had gotten as people walked by. Perhaps they had been a little more dramatic than the occasion deserved, but that was them and everyone else could be damned.

The real drama came the next morning, standing in the lobby of the building where Charlie now worked, making plans to meet up for lunch. She had felt the presence of Colin before she saw him and so she was able to compose herself long enough to plaster a fake smile on her face. The woman he was with was stunning, all perfectly coiffed silver hair and a black suit that probably cost more than her car had. The famous Ann DeBourgh if she had to guess. To be honest she looked like a complete snob and to her credit, Lizzie managed not to flush as pale eyes looked her up and down with a measure of contempt.

“ Charles darling, do introduce us to your ...friend.”

It was Colin who butted in, ever the suck up.

��Ann, this is Elizabeth Bennet.”

The way he said her name and the raised silver brow that followed told Lizzie all she needed to know about the impression the woman had of her.

“Ah yes, the Bennet girl. Well Colin I have to say that she never would have done, Charles is much more suited to the position.”

Colin looked smug while Lizzie inwardly seethed.

“What is it that you do again, Elizabeth?”

“I work in a bakery right now, but I’ll be in school for my PhD come fall.”

Colin’s mouth frozen open like a fish made that little white lie worth it, after all she hadn’t actually been accepted anywhere yet.

“Hmmmm, interesting.” Ann murmured. “And how old are you exactly?”

None of your fucking business you rude old bat.

“I’ll be 27 in a few weeks.” she ground out through clenched teeth, looking at Charlie for help.

“All of Lizzie’s sisters are quite successful for being so young. Her sister Maya has been accepted to Oxford.” he supplied proudly.

“Quite a feat considering their background, I’m told.”

Lizzie wondered what the fuck Colin had been saying about her family.

“You mean the fact that we are almost all adopted? We were all babies so we have no background that’s any different from Charlie, or Colin, though perhaps we haven’t had mommy and daddy’s money to help us on the way. I think that actually makes for a far better measure of character.”

Lizzie shrugged her shoulders, loving how red Colin’s face had gotten and the fact that she had apparently rendered the old bitch speechless.

I’ll see you at lunch Charlie.” she hugged him quickly and made her escape while she still had the upper hand, though she was bitter for several more hours.

By the time she was due to meet Charlie she had exhausted her patience with downtown L.A, especially since she wasn’t actually shopping. Everything was overpriced and trendy, a far cry from her interests anyway. It had been pretty cool to see the Walk of Fame and the Chinese Theatre but she planned to head back to Charlie’s apartment as soon as they were done with lunch rather than see any more of the city.

He was late, of course, no doubt due to Colin and Ann, but she was determined not to let them get to her any more than they already had. She ordered a Coke and opened her book, sure he would be along in just a few minutes.

Seeing his jeans out of the corner of her eye about 20 minutes later, she closed her book with a smile ready to playfully scold him for trying to stand her up. Turning in her seat, her laugh died as she came face to face with a pair of very familiar and equally surprised blue eyes.

“Jack!”

JACK

Elizabeth was here! Jack almost couldn’t contain his agitation as he sat in Ann’s office, their meeting going far too long for his liking. He had never liked the woman, but she was the best publicist and agent in the business so he dealt with her when he had to and no more than that. Sadly she happened to be in L.A for the same period that he was filming so he couldn’t avoid her, but he supposed it was better than having to speak to that snake Colin Ryan. Instead he pretended to pay attention as Ann rattled off a bunch of upcoming projects that she thought he might be suited for, knowing she would already have a bloody portfolio and bag of scripts prepared. His mind wandered to seeing Charlie on his way in, the surprise in the man’s eyes when he’d greeted him and the fact that he’d mentioned to one of his co workers that he was meeting his friend from home for lunch.

Which meant of course that Elizabeth was in L.A, perhaps only a few blocks away right now. It was a sign. Why else would she just happen to be visiting the one week he was filming? Perhaps this was his chance to make something happen, to tell her how he felt. All these months of torment on his part could finally be coming to a head and maybe, just maybe he could make her see him. Slowly though, he couldn’t just barrel on up to her and confess his attraction out of the blue, he would have to test the waters first.

The meeting was finally over and Jack bolted out of the office like the devil was on his tail, looking for Charlie. Who happened to be walking toward the same office looking harried and annoyed.

“Jack.” he nodded, checking his watch.

“Late fer summan?” Like lunch with my future girlfriend?

“I’m supposed to be meeting Lizzie for lunch now, but I just got called to a meeting.”

“Deliberately, no doubt.” Jack scoffed, earning a laugh from the other man. “If ye wan, I can go meet her an tell her yer runnin late. Tha way she won’t be waitin alone.”

“Really? That would actually be awesome man, thanks.”

That had been easy, Charlie had told him where she was and Jack had made the walk quickly, anxious to see her. His courage all but deserted him the moment she spied her through the window of the diner, nose in a book and hair glinting in the sunlight. Suddenly his palms were sweaty and his breath was catching in his throat. What did he say? Hello there Elizabeth, I think I’m crazy about ye? Fancy seeing ye here? Pathetic, everything he could think was either mad or sounded like a cheesy pick up line.

“Yer a grown man fer fuck’s sake.” he muttered as he pulled open the door and walked slowly over to the booth where she sat.

She didn’t notice him at first, turning the pages of her book he could see she was engrossed. He stood for a moment beside her seat just watching, trying to figure out what to say when she must have realised he was there. Her head turned, a huge, teasing smile on her face, something he was very surprised to see.

“Jack!”

She sounded a little breathless and he took that as a good thing, especially when the smile stayed in place.

“Hello, Elizabeth.”

He supposed he should explain why he was there.

“Ehm, I had a meetin wi Ann and she called Charlie in as I was leavin. He wanted me tae let ye know he would be along as soon as he can.”

“Oh, ok then. Ummm do you want to sit?”

Another hopeful sign. He sat and ordered a water and for a few minutes they sat in awkward silence. He couldn’t think of a thing to say.

“So what brings you to L.A?”

“Oh, well I’m filmin here fer a week or so.”

“Of course.” she murmured.

He wanted to just stare at her, take her in and just enjoy the fact that she was in front of him again when he’d thought he would never see her again. His fingers itched to brush the curl on her neck that had escaped her ponytail, in fact he just ached to touch her in any way possible, even for a moment.

“Charlie seems tae be doin well.”

A soft smile and a bit of sadness, she missed her friend.

“He does love it here, it suits him much better than Indiana that’s for sure.”

“I think Ann really likes him so that’s good.”

“Mmmm Hmmm.”

“How is yer family?”

“All good, Maya was just in London for Christmas, shame you didn’t get to see her.”

“It is.” Ok now he just felt uncomfortable.

“I’m surprised Caro didn’t mention it, they ran into one another at Harrods.”

She had, in fact, mentioned it quite meanly and with glee. But of course he couldn’t tell Elizabeth that.

“I donna see Caro so there’s been no opportunity I guess.”

That lie didn’t sit at all well and Jack felt his stomach lurch.

Elizabeth was about to say something else when Charlie’s arrival interrupted them. Though he was invited to stay, Jack just wanted to leave, not wanting to feel the jealousy at their open and deep affection. Plus the subject of Maya had soured his mood, and not for the first time he wondered if he had done the right thing. But it had been done and he couldn’t go back and change it, even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. He might be trapped like this but Tom didn’t have to be and he was better off for the severed connection. In fact, Jack thought, it might be best if he himself did the same thing, a clean break, never see Elizabeth again. Or internet stalk her. Or think about her.

Yeah, he laughed bitterly as he walked away, that was never going to happen.

[aggressivelyclueless]

The Girl In The Alley

prompted by @quishaphantom "Maddie finds a little girl down an alley who sets off all their ghost equipment. And she looks just like Danny." Words: 6167 Warning: themes of abuse, mild angst/feels

      It was almost one in the morning.  For Maddie Fenton, it had been a very long night.  She'd watched the moon crawl halfway across the sky in her search for the dead, and she was beginning to think that, perhaps, she wouldn't find any.  It would be a shame, too - she'd even brought her brand-new spirit-smasher with her in the hopes she'd be able to try it out.  Instead, the evening had been a disappointment.       She paused on a street corner, specter-detector in hand, and frowned.  It had been infuriatingly empty all evening, and she was beginning to think that some of the wiring inside was shot and that she'd have to take it home and put it on her list of things to repair.  She couldn't remember the last time she'd come out this late and there hadn't been any ghosts; she knew that she rarely found any before ten, no matter what time the sun went down, but midnight was supposedly the haunting hour - and yet, she thought dryly to herself.  With a sigh, she turned and gave a look back down the block to FentonWorks.  It was getting pretty late.  Maybe she should call it a night and have the specter-detector fixed tomorrow.       A quick flash of movement in the alley across the street made her turn.  Her first thought was ghost! but she scolded herself.  She knew there was a little gray cat that hid around the alleys a block over, and wrote it off in her mind.  If her specter-detector hadn't begun to beep when she crossed the street to get home, she would have thought nothing of it at all.       Maddie turned, casting a glance down at the screeching device in her hand.  A single blip appeared on the screen, and a second later it darted further down into the alley.  Her heart leapt; maybe she would have a chance to try out her spirit-smasher after all.  She kept her eyes on the mouth of the alley, her movements silent, and readied her weapon.  Peering around the corner, she spotted a small shadow duck behind the dumpster on one side.  She smiled to herself.  I saw you, ghost.  She slinked closer, careful not to make a sound, and kept her eyes on the spot behind the dumpster.       The thing that peered out, to Maddie's surprise, was not a ghost.  Two bright eyes stared back at her, and Maddie faltered.  The spirit-smasher was tossed aside; she knelt down, one hand on the side of the dumpster as she peered around the corner.  She was struck by just how small the girl was, hiding under a dark hoodie and baggy shorts, and something in her gut pulled at her.  What's she doing out here?  Is she by herself?  Someone's got to help her.  She spoke in only a whisper: "Hey - don't be scared, now, I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."       The girl said nothing, eyes locked on Maddie.       "What are you doing out here all by yourself?"       "Holding myself together," said the girl, arms wrapped around her knees.  She looked down for a moment, as if concentrating very hard on something, and then met Maddie's eyes again.       Maddie asked her: "Where are your parents?  I'm sure they must be worried sick about you - "       The girl shook her head.  "I don't have any."       "No parents?"       The girl shook her head again.       "What's your name, dear?"       The girl flinched.  After a moment of hesitation, her gaze fell again.  "Danielle."       "Danielle," Maddie echoed, "and don't you have a place to stay?  It's not safe out here at night - "       "I know," was all Danielle said.  She pulled her arms a little tighter around herself, and slipped her knees under the edge of the hoodie.       Maddie's heart broke.  All alone out here, and no parents - the poor dear!  The motherly instincts in her swelled, and she set one careful hand on the girl's shoulder.  "Would you like to come home with me, Danielle?  I can't just leave you out here on the streets - I'll make up the spare room for you - "       Danielle said nothing.  Underneath the hoodie, her hands were shaking; Maddie's voice stung her, even if she was doing her best to help.  It was burned into her memory from the start - analyses and data readings, mostly - and now here she sat, not by a fizzling projection but by a real human that sounded exactly the same, and she wanted to take Danielle home.  She couldn't say yes - somehow, that was too much to even consider - but she found she couldn't tell her no, either.  She was caught somewhere in the middle, and every time Maddie spoke it took her back to the beginning of it all.       Maddie saw her hesitation, and gave her a concerned frown.  "Danielle?"       Danielle stiffened.  "I - okay.  I'll come with you."       "Alright," said Maddie, her mind made up, "My house is that one on the end.  We'll get you set up in the spare room.  You're not hurt, are you?"       Danielle shook her head.       Maddie got back to her feet, and offered Danielle a hand.  She couldn't believe it - and I thought it was going to be a ghost! I probably scared her out of her wits!  She'd made some calls in the morning, after they'd both gotten some sleep, and after the poor kid had been fed.  Something about her reminded Maddie of her own son; perhaps that was why she already felt so strongly.  She swung the front door to FentonWorks open without a sound and led Danielle inside.  The lights were still on but her husband had fallen asleep on the couch, and she didn't bother to wake him before leading the girl through the kitchen and to the spare room at the end of the side hall.  She flicked the light on and pulled the bare mattress down from where it had been leaning against the wall.  "It isn't much, but it's better than being outside on a night like this.  I'll get some blankets from the hall closet - is there anything else you need?"       Danielle sat on the side of the mattress.  It smelled faintly of cardboard and dust - it had probably been kept in storage at some point - and she shook her head.  "No.  That's fine."       "The bathroom's just across the hall.  I'll see if I can't find a change of clothes for you tomorrow.  Did you want me to leave the hall light on?"        Danielle shook her head.  "I'll be alright."       "If you need anything else, let me know, alright?  I'll make you breakfast in the morning, and we can get everything sorted out.  Good night, Danielle," Maddie turned, leaving the door ajar, and let all of her breath out at once.  Poor kid.  In the light, she saw even more of her son in her - the shape of her nose, the deer-in-the-headlights look when she was scared, even the way she fidgeted just so.  If Maddie didn't know better, she almost would have thought they could have been siblings.  That's just silly.  She dismissed the thought with a shake of her head.  Siblings?  I'd remember doing a little trick like that.  She went back out to the living room, where Jack was still asleep; she sat on the end of the sofa next to him.  She was caught up in thinking about Danielle, and almost forgot about the ghost she'd let get away earlier.  She wasn't angry with herself, given the circumstances.  What else was she supposed to do, let the kid sleep with the stray cat in the alley?       Her eyes fell to the specter-detector she'd left on the end table.  It was still blinking, and she was certain that it was a malfunction.  She picked it up anyway, adjusted the dial on the side, and frowned.  That can't be right.  It thinks there's a ghost in the spare room.  I was just in there.  It was only one in the morning; she decided she had the time to take it downstairs and crack it open to see what the problem was.  It would give her something to do other than fuss over Danielle, at least, although she supposed she'd probably be doing that for a while anyway.       The lab at night was somehow more peaceful than during the daylight hours, even though it really should have been impossible to tell.  Maybe it's just because Jack's asleep, she thought with a little smile.  She really did love the man, but sometimes his antics could get a little out-of-hand.  Just last week he'd spilled a half-baked concoction across half the lab; he'd taken care of the mess, of course - he was a bit clumsy, but not inconsiderate - but she could still tell where the floor had begun to warp, and one of the work-tables wasn't quite level anymore.  She supposed, in the grand scheme of things, that it gave the place character.  When they'd built the lab after moving into the house, it had been almost painfully sterile.  It was like the morgue in some hospital somewhere, where everything was cold and even the smallest sound echoed off the too-smooth walls, and it had taken them almost a year to make it bearable.       Those were the days, went her mind as her hands pulled the device in front of her apart.  She remembered how empty the house had been before the kids were born - she'd thought, at one point, that the house was entirely too big for just the two of them.  The only reason they'd gotten it was because it was dirt-cheap for a city house, and she knew that the value had dropped even more when they'd built the Fenton Ops Center over the roof.  Her husband had a great time with that one, even though it was a bit gaudy.  It had just been "the house" for those first few months.  "FentonWorks" had come later.  Jack had gotten his hands on a laser-cutter one day, and had brought it home already very proud of it, and without any explanation of where it had come from or how he'd gotten his hands on it.  He'd cut out the letters and had the sign up within a week.  Everyone will know that's our house now, he'd said with a grin.  Maddie had added the arrow later as a joke, but Jack had been ecstatic.  It suited the house somehow, just as the house suited the two of them.       Maddie frowned.  She'd run a diagnostic and had pulled out the circuitboard of the specter-detector, hoping to find the source of the malfunction; nothing appeared to be wrong with the thing, and she knew that couldn't be right.  "What in the world," she said to herself.  She thought maybe it was just shot, and that she'd have to make another one, but that didn't sit right either.  It had never given her any problems before this; she'd have noticed something was wrong with it long before it quit entirely.  She reluctantly reassembled it and gave it a reboot.  Maybe I'm just too tired for this, she thought, I'll come back to it in the morning.  She set it down as it restarted, still not entirely satisfied.  The screen defaulted back to the shape of the lab, with rough rectangles in place for furniture and such, and from somewhere out of the room the blip appeared.       Maddie turned.  That's where Danielle's sleeping, she remembered, the fretting in her mind rearing back up again.  Maybe she'd check on her, just to make sure she was doing alright, before bed.  She gave the defective machine one last glance and then turned to go back upstairs.  What if there's really not anything wrong with it at all?  She grumbled to herself, decided that it was going to keep her up if she didn't get any sort of resolution at all, and slid into the rolling chair by the desktop computer.  The Ops Center upstairs might have had the biggest and most impressive weapons, but the mainframe was just as easily accessible from here, and she tapped into it.  The entire house was riddled with equipment (well, except for the kids' rooms, anyhow - Jasmine had argued tooth and nail for their privacy when they'd mentioned installing anything up there), and she'd know if any sort of spectral anomaly had made its way inside.       The little red dot on the screen was coming from the spare room, and Maddie's face went blank.  She knew there couldn't be a ghost in there - it would have caused such a ruckus, and it would have been impossible not to spot - and yet the little blip remained.       She remembered the alley, and how she'd assumed at once that something was wrong with her equipment.  It didn't take her long to reassess the situation; it was increasingly obvious that her readings were correct - or, at the very least, consistent - and her mind turned instead to the girl upstairs.  She wondered, cobbling together several hypotheses, if perhaps Danielle was being plagued by some sort of ghastly affliction.  Was there a spirit that was haunting her directly?  Had she been possessed?  Was she hiding a ghost with her?  Had she been exposed to some kind of ectoplasmic radiation, and that was what was setting her equipment off?  She could think of half a dozen tests to run right off the bat, but immediately scolded herself.  Just ask her in the morning.  Maybe she's got an explanation.       The scientist in her wasn't content, but the mother spoke louder.  What are you thinking?  Don't you dare scare the poor thing again!  She's been through enough.  She'd bring it up tomorrow, and see if there was anything that could be done to help her.  She wondered, too, about Danielle's parents.  She'd said she didn't have any - what happened to them?  Were they the ones haunting her?  Just thinking about it made her sick; she couldn't imagine having something like that hanging over the poor girl’s head.       She shut the lights off in the lab, leaving the specter-detector out on the work-table, and shuffled upstairs.  She'd have to have a talk with Jack in the morning about what had happened - she knew he'd understand.  He'd want to help poor Danielle out too.  She paused at the end of the hall, and peeked into the spare room.  Danielle was asleep; reassured, she went upstairs to bed.

      Danielle was not asleep.       The light had clicked off, and Maddie had gone, but the lump of dread in her stomach persisted.  She'd left Amity Park to find a way to stabilize herself, and to escape the wrath of her father; she'd heard about a group of ectobiologists out on the east coast that she'd thought might be able to help her, but she never made it that far.  By herself and with her ghost powers steadily draining away, she hadn't even made it across state lines before she'd been forced to turn back.  That left her at square one, worse off than when she'd left, and she knew she was running out of time.       Her mind turned back to Maddie.  She was certain that was the woman's name, despite the fact that they hadn't met.  To see her walking and breathing was disquieting, in the same way as hearing someone casually mention an  from so long ago that you weren't even sure anymore it had ever taken place at all.  It dredged things up from the haze of memory and brought them into a spotlight of clarity, and you'd find that, perhaps, you had preferred to keep those details obscured in shadow.       She could hear Maddie's footsteps as she descended into the lab.  She was tuned into that sound - she had been for as long as she could remember; some days, when she wasn't allowed out of her father's chamber, she looked forward to them.  He might dote upon her, or bring the cat down and allow the two of them to play for half an hour so he could have some time to himself.  On days like that, he would call her precious or dewdrop.  The first time he'd let her outside to the see the sun, he'd called her dearest angel.  She'd been over the moon, rolling in the grass and flying clumsily over the impeccably-trimmed hedges because she hadn't gotten good at it yet.  She smell of rain the day after that had sent her into a fervor.  Those were the days when she thought she loved him.  She'd forgive anything he'd done, and she'd do any favor that he asked.       She hadn't realized until much later how few of those days there were.  More likely than not, she'd be downstairs.  Every time she closed her eyes, she could still see it: her containment chamber, dark on the inside except for a rectangle of glass that allowed her to see out into the surrounding laboratory.  Her first memories came from the inside of that rectangle, isolated from anything he didn't want her to see or hear, back when she hadn't been given a name or a purpose.  Sometimes, she'd be pulled out and he'd put her to sleep.  When she woke up, she'd always be dizzy, and she'd feel different.  Different wasn't always bad; she'd woken up one day to find that she'd grown her very own legs, instead of the awkward and slimy tail that was there before.  Her father had opened her chamber after that and taught her to walk.  It hadn't taken long.  You're picking this up so quickly! he'd said.  He'd said that about most of her ghost powers, too.  It wasn't until he'd told her about her failed siblings that she found out that it was because he'd made her this way.  Until that point, she'd thought it was because she had tried her best, because she loved him, because she was special.       He'd only tell her she was special when he needed her to do something for him.  It was only for important things, not simple favors, and it was usually on the bad days.  He had a fair number of those; he'd storm downstairs, cape flying behind him, yelling in a frenzy about That Accursed Phantom, and whatever else had been plaguing him.  He'd always be in an uncontrollable rage - uncontrollable, at least until she promised to sneak somewhere and get something for him, or whatever other dangerous task that he'd have for her.  As soon as she said yes, he'd always give a huge sigh.  I knew I could count on you, he'd say.  I was afraid I was going to lose it.  I'd feel simply awful if I hurt you.       I always knew you were special.       For a long time, she'd believed it.  Until the day she'd met Danny, she believed everything Vlad had told her.  She'd taken it all, no matter what - why would he lie to her?  He was her father.  Fathers didn't lie; they didn't fight; if they punished or scolded, it was because she deserved it, she said something wrong, she broke something she wasn't supposed to touch, she hadn't tried hard enough.  The first time she'd seen Danny, he'd been That Accursed Phantom in her mind.  That was what Vlad would always call him.  He'd told her to hate That Accursed Phantom, and she had.        She had, until she'd talked to him, and until Vlad had pushed her too far.  Everything had come undone very quickly after that.  She'd found out that Vlad had been using her, and that he'd intended to discard her afterwards; her learned hatred for Danny vanished; she'd run away from it all after making a wreck of her home.  She'd ventured out but she discovered the hard way that she couldn't do it on her own.  Now here she sat, back in Danny's own house, having been taken in by his mother of all people.       She knew she had to talk to Danny.  That was the only thing keeping her here.  She wasn't sure how much longer she could stay whole if he didn't help her; she couldn't even risk transforming anymore, much less using any of her powers.  Even running too fast in her human form had begun to make her palms and her feet slimy, and she couldn't bear to think of what might happen if she was caught in any sort of fight.  Just wait until Maddie goes to sleep.  Then see if you can find him.      Could she even do that?  She knew how many ghosts came out at night.  Danny had a lot of enemies in Amity Park, he said once.  He'd cautioned her against meeting them.  Certainly, they'd be stronger than her.  Just because you're a ghost doesn't mean all the other ghosts won't come after you.  Dani, please be careful.  She'd been careful so far, hadn't she?  Of course she had - and she was still falling apart.  Falling apart means no ghost powers.  That was what she'd told herself when she'd started to melt even in her human form.  No ghost powers means stay out of trouble.  When the sun comes up, I'll find him.  There won't be any ghosts during the day.       She wondered, though: could she even last that long?  Even as she lay in bed, a small pool of ectoplasm had begun to stain the spare mattress.  It wasn't an issue when she slept, at least not yet, but that had been three days ago.  She had to get sleep sometime.  She was exhausted, and she was tired of being exhausted.  What would Danny say when she saw him?  What would he do?  She realized he'd probably want to bring her home.  His mother, he'd said once, was a ghost hunter.  She had a ghost lab, and she'd know enough to be able to help a ghost as well as hurt one.       That didn't make her feel better at all.  She wasn't going to get any sleep.

      By the time Maddie was awake, Danielle had disappeared.  She hadn't even gotten to tell Jack about it - she'd gone to check on her, and the spare room had been empty.  The nagging little voice in her was scolding, as if she had failed Danielle somehow, and she felt a twinge of guilt.  Was it something I said?  She sighed, and tipped the mattress back up against the wall.  There was a tiny puddle of dried fluid on the corner, and she frowned.  Well, at least it's something, I suppose.  She'd take it down to the lab for testing later.  Whatever was the matter with the girl, Maddie was sure it had something to do with ghosts.  She'd thought about it as she'd been drifting off to sleep the night before, and she'd come to the conclusion that there was at least one spirit, possibly several, that were haunting her directly.       Poor kid.       She turned and fetched a pair of scissors, snipping carefully around the sample of fluid and setting it on the work-table downstairs.  She contemplated about whether or not she really should tell her husband about this at all; he had one of his little pet projects to complete, and she knew they shared the space well even with separate agendas.  Besides, if the sample didn't yield anything interesting - perhaps she'd drop her hunch entirely.  What was she going to do, track the girl down?         Maddie turned back to the sample on the table.  At least half a dozen tests came to her off the top of her head, and in her curiosity she performed them all.  She'd left her notes open on the side of the work-table, and kept a chart of her results as they came in.

      Danny had slept through class again.       The final bell woke him, and only with the help of his invisibility powers did he slink past Lancer without being caught.  He ducked behind one of the vending machines in the hall to reappear (not that it was particularly important, he thought to himself - as far as he was concerned, being careful about this sort of thing had become optional most days), and then darted down the hall to his locker to meet up with Sam and Tucker.       Instead of either of them, he found Danielle.  She sat, propped up against the lockers, with her hands shoved into her pockets.  Her face was paler than he remembered, and she wore the sort of worried frown that told him she wasn't going to give him any good news.       "Danielle?" he asked, reaching through his locker and pulling out his backpack, "What are you doing here?  You don't look so good."       She shook her head.  "I don't feel so good either.  You remember those guys I was going to go see?  The ones that were going to help me?"       Danny's face fell.  "They couldn't, could they?  Man, I'm so sorry - "       "I didn't even get that far," said Danielle, pulling herself up to her feet.  "I had to come back here - I don't know what else I can do!"       "Hey - calm down, we'll figure something out," said Danny, "I can hide you away up in my room for the time being.  I promise I'll find a way to get your strength back up, okay?"       Dani hesitated.  "Well..."       "Well what?" Danny frowned, "Is there something else going on?  Is there someone after you?  Do I need to know about it?"       Inside her pockets, Dani's hands balled in an effort to keep them from melting too much.  She wouldn't meet Danny's eyes.  "I was at your house last night."       "You what?"       Dani flinched.  "Your mom - her name's Maddie, isn't it?"       Danny softened.  "Yeah.  Did you see her?"       "Yeah.  She found me outside, and she said I could stay."       "Are you going to?"       Dani shifted her weight onto one foot.  "I don't know, she's - I don't know if I can do it."       "Is it because of the ghost hunter thing?" Danny asked, "I can give you the pointers if that's what you're worried about - "       "It's not that."       Danny paused.  "What is it?  She didn't say anything mean, did she?"       "Not this time."       "This time?" Danny asked, frowning.  He couldn’t imagine his mother ever having said anything about Danielle at all, mean or not.  Had they even met before?  They hadn’t, as far as he’d been aware. "What do you mean - ?"       "I don't want to talk about it," said Danielle, who had refused to meet his gaze the entire time.  "It's just - I know it's stupid, but when I see her it makes me remember things - things from home, things I don't want to remember, all the stuff Dad did - "       "Danielle.  Listen to me."  Danny put both hands on her shoulders, giving her a serious, unblinking stare.  "I promise he's not going to hurt you.  Even if he finds out you're here - I'd kick his butt halfway across the state before I'd let him touch you."       Danielle nodded without looking up.  "I know."       "Look.  I'm not saying you have to stay at my house if you really don't want to - but you gotta have someplace safe, right?"       "Well, there's that empty building a couple of blocks from - "       "Dani, I'm serious!" Danny exclaimed, "Look at you!  You're one ghost attack away from melting into a puddle and you're sleeping in abandoned buildings at night?  When's the last time you've eaten?"       "Yesterday - I found half a sandwich out by - "       "That's not good enough," said Danny forcefully, "You think you're going to get any better out there?"       "What else am I gonna do?" Dani said quietly, "I can't go back home - no one else can help me."       Danny's heart sank.  He knew she was right; the only place with the equipment to help her was Vlad's creepy basement, and there was no way he'd ever go back there either, if he could help it.  Last time, Vlad had tried to force his transformation for one of those clones - he'd destroyed most of the lab during his escape, but it hadn't been easy.  He'd watched himself melt away into ectoplasm, and thinking about it still made his stomach turn.  That had been one of the other clones - he couldn't let the same thing happen to Danielle.  He'd never forgive himself.       A sudden idea struck him.  It was absurd and he hated it - but the longer he thought about it, the clearer it became that it was the only option.  "Danielle," he said suddenly, "I think there might be a way to keep you together.  I don't think you're going to like it - I know I don't, but - "       "What is it?" Dani asked, "Even if it's dangerous - you have to tell me.  It's not like I've got anything to lose at this point, really."       Danny let all his breath out at once.  "This is going to sound really crazy, and you're going to have to hear me out, but - I gotta tell my mom I'm half-ghost."       "What?" Dani faltered, "Why would you - ?"       "No, listen," Danny insisted, "She's the only one that can help us.  She's got everything in the lab downstairs - if I tell her everything that's going on she'll understand - she'll be able to help us.  I know she'll listen to me, and we'd need my DNA anyway in order to stabilize yours."       "But you've kept it secret - "       "Forget the secret," said Danny, more aggressively than he'd meant to.  He paused for a moment, let some of his tension out, and then continued: "I'd tell everyone in the world I was half-ghost if it would keep you whole.  I can't watch you drain away like this."        Danielle just stood in rigid silence.  She knew it wasn't fair for Danny to have to out himself like that - to the face of a ghost hunter, no less.  He was right, though.  She didn't have much time left.  Despite her best efforts, the tips of her fingers had begun to seep into the pockets of her hoodie, and she was certain she'd liquefy in an instant if she tried to use any of her powers.  She might not even make it to nightfall as it was.  Finally she just nodded.  "Okay."       Danny let all his breath out at once.  "Come on.  We gotta get you home."       She followed him back to the house, keeping her head down as if she'd been in trouble.  She could feel herself slipping away a little at a time; her skin had become slick all over, and her fingers had all but stuck together.  Even when she concentrated, the best she could do was keep herself from leaving slimy footprints on the sidewalk.       Danny pulled the front door open and dropped his backpack by the stairs.  He turned and peered through the kitchen, hoping to find his mother.  He could hear something whirring downstairs; she must already be busy.  "Mom?"       "Down here, hon!" she called back from the basement.  She was humming to herself - she must have been in a good mood.  Great.  Here goes everything.       He led Danielle down the steps, and he paused a few short of the landing.  He knew this wasn't going to be easy.  He'd put it off for so long, and made so many excuses for himself, that part of him had begun to assume he'd never let it on at all.  He steeled himself.  "Mom?"       Maddie turned, pulling the hood of her jumpsuit down.  "Danny, how was school - ?"       "There's something I have to tell you," said Danny all at once.  The anxious twinge in his gut dissolved as soon as he began, and he was glad for it.  "It's really important, and you have to promise you won't freak out because it's about something even more important - "       "Is this about school?" she asked, suddenly suspicious.  "You didn't get detention again - ?"       “No, Mom, listen," Danny insisted, ignoring her question entirely, "I need your help.  You have to trust me on this."       Maddie stiffened.  "Danny, what's this about?"       Danielle peered slowly out from behind him.  If either of her hands had still been intact, she might have given Maddie a nervous wave.  As it was, her heart sank a little further.       "Danielle?" Maddie asked, gaze shifting between her and Danny.  She still had her compilation of analyses on the work-table; the results had been conclusive in that the girl wasn't plagued by ghosts - she was one.  She turned back to Danny.  "What's this about?"       "I'll tell you everything," said Danny, taking a deep breath, "But first, you have to promise to trust me."       Maddie hesitated, but then nodded.  What was she thinking?  What sort of mother would she be if she didn't trust her own son?  "Alright, Danny.  I trust you.  Now what's this about bringing a ghost into the house?"       "You have to help her," said Danny, "She's unstable and falling apart.  I know you can find a way to fix her."       "Well, I - " Maddie faltered.  "Danny, I don't know, it's just that she's a ghost, and - "       Danny's eyes flashed.  "I know!  It doesn't matter!  She's just gonna melt away otherwise!  I can't let that happen!  Not after everything - "       "Everything?"       Danny's gaze fell.  He took a deep breath, let the tension out of his shoulders, and nodded once to himself.  Here goes.       He transformed.  He'd done it a million times, under any circumstances imaginable, and yet somehow this one was the worst.  The pounding heartbeat in his ears quit in an instant; the sudden void was gut-wrenching, and the deepened silence was almost too much.  He knew that he'd been wrong.  His mother wouldn't help them.  It was too late to take any of it back.  That and a thousand other things clamored in his head at once, but it was too late.  The secret was out.       Maddie was in shock.  Her mind ground to a halt, and one hand slowly came up over her mouth.  "My god...Danny, you're - "       "I can tell you everything," said Danny, meeting his mother's eyes at last, "But first, you have to save Danielle.  She doesn't have much time left."       Maddie was silent.  Her own son - a ghost?  Not just any ghost, she realized a minute later when her mind began to process again, he'd been the rogue hero Phantom the entire time?  She was suddenly acutely aware of everything she'd ever said about him - to his face, no less - and she knew she had failed him.  "Danny, I..."       "I know.  I should have told you about this a long time ago," said Danny, "I promised you I'd tell you everything, remember?  I meant it.  Dani and I both will."       Maddie's gaze fell to Danielle, who had gone almost deathly white.  "Is she - ?"       "Like me.  Mostly," said Danny, "She's got a lot of the same DNA as me.  Thing is, she was never completely stable, and the more energy she uses the more she falls apart.  There's got to be something you can do.  You're the expert."       Maddie forced her focus onto Danielle instead.  "Well, I think there might be a way.  If she's got the same genetics as you do - " (which would explain why I saw so much of him in her) " - in theory, I could borrow some of yours and get a stabilizer ready - "       Danny nodded.  "Do it.  Whatever it takes."

      An extra chair had been pulled from the hall closet so they could all sit at the kitchen table: Maddie, Jack, Jasmine, Danny, and Danielle.  The discussion began with Danny explaining about most of his ghost powers, and some of the escapades he'd had.  He and Danielle ratted Vlad out, and Maddie adopted her on the spot.  Jack was upset, which was to be expected, but he swore that he'd have Danny's back from then on out, no matter what happened.  Danny showed them the folder of notes on the various ghosts he'd encountered, and the map he'd drawn up of the Ghost Zone.  Maddie kept an increasingly extensive list of modifications to be made to the lab downstairs and a lot of the equipment in it, as well as a handful of other tools that would be for Danny and Danielle.  They'd go out together from then on, of course, and Maddie would excuse as many late notices from school as she needed to.  She and Jack would patrol on the weekends - even a ghost needs a day off, Jack said with a laugh.  Even Jasmine would start spending more time in the lab.  Fighting ghosts wasn't as much up her alley as designing and building tools and weapons, but she had a few ideas of her own that she'd like to see put to use. The discussion took almost all night, and ended up over ice cream.  Danielle was given the spare room, and of course they'd help her paint it and decorate it.

She was family now, after all.

[lovedsammy]

I wrote this up really quickly so it’s not proofread or anything. But that pic of Sam sitting at Jack’s bedside from 14.08 really motivated me to write something for once, so... here you go?  

-

“So, what can we do?” 

“Watch over him. Stay by his side. As he dies.” 

The last three days have been like something out of a nightmare, Sam thinks. It’d started the second Dean had called him, and Sam could barely hear him over the panicked yells of “Jack’s sick, Sam! He’s coughing up blood and he’s passed out and - I don’t know what to do. I need you here. Jack needs you here!” 

Sam barely remembers getting back home at all, just running down the bunker stairs two at a time with his heart in his throat to Jack’s room. He’d been in a daze, seeing Jack’s prone form, his white shirt still stained with droplets of blood. Cas arrived a few moments later, and Sam had reluctantly followed Dean out to let Cas try and do what he could. 

But it hadn’t been enough. None of it had. Angelic healing, the hospital, the Archangel grace from Gabriel, Rowena... nothing. There was no quick fix it, no miraculous solution. 

Jack was dying. 

Jack’s gotten progressively worse over the past forty eight hours, and he’s been unconscious for most of them. His chest still rises and falls, but it’s too slow, much too slow, for Sam’s comfort. In the stretching, painful hours of silence, he lets his mind drift.  

He’d never really thought about becoming a father, of ever having children of his own. Maybe only briefly, a few times here and there in the middle of the night if he let himself imagine it long enough. Perhaps in another life, with Jessica, had things not gone the way that they had. Even with Amelia, the desire had not been there. Sometimes, he’d told himself that he just wasn’t father material, not in the way that Dean was. He was so screwed up - how could he ever hope to be a good role model for a kid? And with the way his life was, the constant danger... well, he’d learned what not to do, considering his own messed up childhood. He couldn’t provide for a child in the way that they’d need, in the way that they deserved. 

He’d never expected this boy - Lucifer’s son - to enter and warm his heart in the way that he had. In the beginning, he’d simply hoped to guide him, to keep him on the correct path, to be for him what others hadn’t been to Sam. To be a friend. A teacher. A protector. Sam hadn’t considered the possibility that those lines could blur, merge, and be filed under the same umbrella. That those intentions could, to everyone but him, be considered paternal. 

That night in the church, with Jack in Lucifer’s grip and powerless, Sam had finally understood. He’d felt a fear that was unlike anything before, and he’d faced Lucifer for a millennia, always scared, always a tick away from breaking apart. Sam knew terror well. They were more than acquaintances by now. But seeing Lucifer strike Jack, pummeling the boy until he was a curled mess on the floor, bloodied and whimpering, Sam had realized that he could know terror even more still. And he knew then that Jack wasn’t just another kid to him. Not Lucifer’s. Not even just Cas’s. Jack was his. 

So when he’d gathered himself up from his place on the floor where Lucifer had unceremoniously dropped him, he’d felt as wild and ferocious as a lion. His chest and shoulders had expanded and he’d made himself seem bigger, tougher. A snarl had rumbled from his throat. In one swift motion, he’d grabbed Lucifer’s shoulder in a vice-like clasp and spun him around. Sam had known that the hit was coming before Lucifer even struck him, but he hadn’t cared. He’d almost smiled through the pain. Better me than Jack. Focus on me. Not him. And then Lucifer had decided to twist the proverbial knife, to try and make them kill one another. Yet again, Sam had thought that he’d experienced and knew every single way that Lucifer could ever hurt him - but there was always still new games to play, new ways to inflict pain.

“I need to find my father. He’ll protect me.” 

“Jack, that’s not.... that’s not really what Lucifer does.”

That’s just what Lucifer did. 

He would never forget the look on Jack’s face when Sam had offered the nephilim the blade instead. “Kill me,” Sam had told him, desperate for Jack to do it, to live, to get his power back and finally beat the devil. Instead, his heart had lurched as Jack turned the blade onto himself, gazing at Sam with such childlike, loving eyes that it felt as if Sam had been stabbed clean through. 

“I love you,” Jack had whispered. And Sam’s heart stopped. It had taken him by surprise so much that, in all of the chaos of Dean showing up bearing Michael, and Jack being safe, Lucifer finally dying, and then Michael taking over Dean - he hadn’t yet said it back. 

It’d been his intention to, during those few weeks after. But he’d either been too busy, whether it was trying to track down Dean or becoming the grudging leader for the hunters from the other world. In all of that mindless static, he’d been neglecting Jack. He’d tried to keep the boy safe as much as he could, even without physically being with him: prohibiting him from going out on cases, having him seek tutelage under Bobby and Cas, make friends with the hunters. 

Because protecting your children, in any way that you could.... that was what fathers did, wasn’t it? And as Jack’s father, he’d needed Jack to stay safe. Even if the countless responsibilities he’d had was creating a tangible rift between them, one that Sam had been hopeful he could still seal.

“We’ll talk later, all right?” He’d told Jack after they’d started to talk one night. But then Nick had woken up, and they’d never finished that conversation. And now it felt like it was almost too late. 

Because Jack was dying. 

Rowena had done everything that she could. They all had. They’d explored the numerous leads and methods at their disposal, but they’d all been dead ends. Jack was going to die, within weeks if not days. 

Sam had failed him. 

A father’s job was to protect his son. 

And Sam had failed. 

He’s been at Jack’s bed side for two days, barely having moved. Dean and Cas come to find him (and a lot of times join him) more times than he can remember just to remind him to eat, or drink, or sleep. And Sam does none of those things. His back aches from how long he’s been bent forward, hovering over Jack like the guardian he was supposed to be. Sam’s hands are clasped in front of his face almost in prayer, but the position is only a mockery of it. He doesn’t really pray anymore, not often. He’s exhausted his faith. All he can do now is try and be there for his dying child. 

Sam’s been trying to hold himself together since that phone call, and he’s almost reached his limit. Tears are always at the rim of his eyes but never falling, because if he lets them, he doesn’t know if he’ll stop. And Jack needs him to be positive, to be strong, right now. Jack doesn’t need to see just how much Sam is suffering. Sam can spare him of that, if he can do nothing else. 

The guilt is honestly almost as plentiful as the grief. Because he should’ve known. As Jack’s father, he should’ve known that there was something wrong with him. He should’ve seen the signs. He should’ve paid more attention. He should’ve been there. 

That’s what he tells Cas when the angel comes to join him later. 

“Sam, don’t do this to yourself. You’ve been taking care of him since he was born,” Cas tells him vehemently, kindly. “You’ve been there for him more than anyone, including me. You were the first person he ever saw, and the first one to treat him with gentleness and love. You were the first father he knew. He chose me, but I wasn’t there for him at those critical hours - don’t defend me for not being able to,” Cas raises a hand to silence Sam’s protest. 

There’s a long pause, and then Cas speaks again. 

“Being dead was something I couldn’t control. I know that. But it still matters. It mattered to Jack, who’d just lost his mother and needed a father. It mattered that it was you who found him, who took him in, and loved him unconditionally when Dean wouldn’t and when no one else would. You shaped Jack into the young man that he is. You’ve done so much for him - it just so happens that this is the one thing you - we - can’t fix for him.” 

Sam closes his eyes, the pain overwhelming. He knows he’s not the only one suffering, that Dean and Cas are, too. Cas even more so. Cas had called Jack their son. Cas is losing a child, too. 

“I can’t lose him, Cas,” He chokes. 

Sam had lost Dean more times than he could count, and every time it fractured more and more of him. He’d lost Cas. He’d lost his mother. He’d lost his father. He’d lost friends and loved ones and even people that he didn’t know but always tried to save. But losing a child... how does anyone come back from that? How could he? 

Cas’s hand falls on his shoulder, fond and comforting, and just as brokenly. “I know.” 

[bluesclves]

Hey Scoob, I really love your blog about the Archangels and I would like to ask you one thing, how would you do a redemption arc for Lucifer? How would you reformulate the plot of s12 and s13 on Supernatural aimed at him? I imagine they could make him have the following thoughts about humanity: "I have nothing in favor of humanity but now I also have nothing more against."

Well actually, I’m writing a fanfic series about just that 😅 [Link]

Granted, I did the ‘lucifer becomes human’ trope well before season 13 thought to do it, and I had it stick as opposed to it being another half-assed 1-2 episode long arc.

But if I were to honestly re-write the show starting with season 12, following similar arcs for the boys?

I think I’d start by finding a way to give Lucifer a reason not to run back to the Winchesters at the beginning of Season 12. There really was no reason for him to go off on a rampage like that when they actually took his side against Chuck and got him the apology he’s so desperately wanted. Sure, Chuck still left… but that’s not the Winchester’s fault. They were on Team Save the World together, there’s no reason for them to be hunting Lucifer down and there’s no reason for Lucifer to assume they are no longer friendly to him.

If he came to them with his vessel issues and his injuries, they likely would have worked with him to find a stable vessel—which could lead to Crowley revealing he has Nick and giving the vessel to him freely so that he has a trump card via the magical enhancements in case he ever needs to use Lucifer or stop him.

But! I’d give him a reason not to come back. Just because the writing for that was lazy doesn’t mean I don’t like the drama associated with Lucifer “busting dad’s already-broken toys”. I actually really liked that scene in Rock Never Dies, I thought Rick Springfield delivered those lines fantastically and it gave me a little hope again that the Writers did actually see Lucifer’s potential as a deeply broken and flawed character— not just a villain for villainy’s sake.

Don’t get me wrong— I love Lucifer as an antagonist, he makes for a fantastic enemy of the Boys. But the caveat to that is that despite being an antagonist, he isn’t a traditional villain. His goals in season five were, from his point of view, wholly noble and just. He believed he was the good guy. In season 11, he also believes that he’s the good guy. He’s agreeing to fight Amara, after all. In seasons 12 & 13 however he loses that, and we see him becoming evil for the sake of being evil and it just doesn’t fit with his character so far as we have seen him.

So in order to both give him his redemption arc and maintain his status as a Lawful Good (which doesn’t mean Lawful Nice) Antagonist, I’d give him a very good reason not to return to Team Save The World.

What that reason not to come back could be anything as simple as “he came back to the bunker only to overhear that they are hunting him down” to as complex as “he hasn’t found a vessel that can hold him yet and he’s burnt through so many at this point that he’s afraid to go back out of fear that they won’t forgive him for something he honestly couldn’t help”.

Whatever the reason, I’d show it in some way from his point of view so it is clear why he goes off the deep end and just start smashing shit. I did actually like that, though I wish they portrayed it less as “he’s throwing a temper tantrum because he didn’t get his way” and more like “everyone thinks I’m a monster and my father left AGAIN so fine, if they all want me to be a monster so bad, I’ll give them a monster.”

The biggest problem I had with that arc in season 12 is that he invests himself so much in high-power religious and political figures, then uses that power just to make the Winchesters’ lives hell. He doesn’t effect any serious governmental changes as the president, he doesn’t make any decrees as the archbishop… it was honestly just fanservice and then he used that power to make Sam & Dean Public Enemies #1. That, and he fucked a random nobody Because The Plot Demands It.

That’s really something I could never wrap my head around. Lucifer is disgusted by humans. He sees them as filthy, unclean, base creatures.

What logical reason does he have to sleep with Kelly rather than turn her into wall paint at the mere suggestion that he might want to sleep with her? They made it seem like a little pressuring from an aide was enough to get Lucifer to set aside his distaste for humanity and sleep with her, despite showing earlier I’m the season how he manipulated another woman into carving his name into her own skin just for insinuating he might be interested in her.

What feasible reason did he have to sleep with Kelly? Fear of discovery? He obliterates her and cleans up the mess, snap-snap. Who’s gonna know? It’s not like he planned to be in that position long-term.

I really hate Kelly as a character however, in part because she was written to be expendable and I HATE characters that serve no purpose other than fodder. If you kill a character it should mean something.

So here’s how I would give us a Jack/Nephilim arc without stupid Lucifer Fanservice and Kelly and the dumb supermax prison break. Are you really gonna tell me that Billie wouldn’t just come and collect one of them as per their deal once she became Death-with-a-capital-D?

Lucifer is angry, he’s been betrayed by his Dad and he couldn’t go back to the Winchesters, and he’s just smashing shit and making their lives hell because he’s directing his anger at them. Because God or Amara gave them their mom back but left him with nothing. Again.

So he goes for the one person that can hurt them most— their mom. He comes to her when she’s still unsure about her place in this world and after she just slept with Ketch and is mostly a little disgusted with herself for stopping so low.

He goes to her in a dream as John, and tells her her husband is still suffering in Hell after all these years. But he can give her John back if she says yes. John is more familiar in this world anyways, he reminds her, the boys really need their father, someone they can count on.

And he possesses Mary, literally less than an hour after she had sex with Ketch. She doesn’t even have the chance to take morning-after pills. So she conceives and while the fetus matures an archangel is possessing her, so it draws power from him too to grow.

Bam, a nephilim (who will be an actual half-brother to Dean and Sam), being carried by a decidedly not expendable character, so there is actual urgency to the Boys’ attempts to save their mother.

You get Mary!Lucifer carrying a baby and slowly coming to the realisation that this can be his new purpose. It was an accident… but he is also this child’s parent and he has a responsibility to it. Maybe his Father left him and the world thinks he’s a monster... but this baby doesn’t k ow him yet and he will be a better Father than his own.

You get him changing tactics from using Mary to taunt the Winchesters to Playing keep-away and hiding from them to protect her and his child.

We can still have them eventually pinning Mary!Lucifer down and exorcising him from her, with Crowley trapping Lucifer in Nick, because I love it, but I think Mary carrying the Nephilim and Lucifer getting off his warpath and onto the path to parenthood is a much better arc for both those characters than the arcs they’ve been given thus far.

As for season 13? If we assume season 12 ends similarly to how it did, with Jack still being born but Sam and Dean finding a way to keep Mary alive throughout it, then you get Mary and Lucifer trapped in the apocalypse world together, we can get similar scenes to the almost-beautiful shows of character development through those short conversations Lucifer had with Mary. Only she’d have more insight into his thought process now, so we could get more in-depth conversations, and perhaps a tentative friendship as he continues to protect her despite her no longer carrying his child.

My biggest change to season 13 would be keeping Lucifer human longer. It’d be focused on transitioning the role of main villain from Lucifer to Apocalypse Michael, or Asmodeus. Lucifer may not be in the story as much, but the scenes he does have would develop his understanding of what it means to be human and what it means to be a father, coming to a head when he regains enough grace (through either Anael or natural means) to be formidable and rather than go it alone, asks the Winchesters to help him find his son. I’d preferably have him not be stupid and just stay tagging along with Cass after the Escape From Asmodeus.

I’d force him to experience humanity, to have to understand what it means to live knowing you are mortal and might die at any time. If he managed to work his way into the bunker via Cass, I’d focus on him rebuilding his role as a member of a family, giving and receiving help from the Winchesters in different ways.

He’d get his redemption arc, and then I’d have all his lessons and growth culminate in self-sacrifice at the end of season 13. Someone has to keep Michael in the Apocalypse World. Everyone else has to get across. So he tells the others to go through and he holds Michael off for as long as he can.

Maybe people would be upset for killing him off after finally redeeming him— but Supernatural isn’t about Lucifer, it’s about the Winchesters. And if I gave them an ally that powerful, there’s very little left to challenge them. So I’d have to kill him off in order to let the story continue.

But at least that way, he’d have the noble death he deserved, rather than being put down like the beaten horse he’s become.

…

Anyways, I agree with your thoughts of Lucifer deciding he still doesn’t love humanity but he doesn’t actively hate them anymore because that is actually the impression I got in seasons 12 & 13. His beef was with specific people, not humanity as a whole. He was angry with God and with tfw, and that’s it.

Thanks for the ask! Sorry for the Essay!