#please send another ask to share your own take on young adult tom????? please i would love to hear it????

[romanticoutcast]

Now that you somehow mentioned it I’d love to know how you’d see tom and his personality evolving, like how he would behave 8-10 years later(whether it’s in a canon or non-canon setting)! Bc i have my very own interpretation of late-teen/young adult sawyer and I love to know other opinions abt this kind of stuff— (btw I already read and loved some of your fanfics (those where he isn’t ded lol) so I have an overall idea but i love annoying ppl)

okay okay so...i have a LOT of thoughts about tom’s personal character development both in canon, and what it might lead to in the future.

this is all gonna seem like an unnecessary summary of tom’s character, but it’s all leading up to a point i sWEAR LMAO.

i think conspiracy could serve as a huge catalyst for tom’s character development, among other things. throughout the sequel novels, he continued to worm his way out of situations he deliberately put himself and others into multiple times, mostly by his own cleverness, while always making a big show of it. the more he proves himself in the public eye, the more he wants to do it again and becomes willing to create dangerous problems just to do so. he shows the town time and time again how smart he is, how special he is, how promising his future will be. in conspiracy, tom doesn’t impress the town in court with his detective skills, like he’s done so often before. it’s not another opportunity for him to show off, the way he wanted it to be. instead he makes himself look like a liar when confessing his harebrained schemes, because everyone knows none of it makes any sense at all, and so far tom has been nothing but a beacon of intelligence and common sense in their eyes. he becomes speechless and cries about all the ways his stupid mistakes have made jim suffer, and he’s gone too far this time to fix it. he humiliates himself publicly. just as tom’s rise to glory in st. petersburg was always a public matter (like he tried to make it), so is his downfall.

he got such a big head from all this past “”success”” that he truly believes it’s impossible for him to fail. once he does, he panics, loses all of his self-assurance, and tries to get jim out of the trouble he got him into the fastest, most straightforward way possible. tom, the one who is constantly lording his intelligence over huck’s head and scolding him for being a “saphead,” desperately tells huck that he wishes he had just listened to him instead of going after glory, that he was an idiot for playing with fire. it’s obvious that the events in conspiracy have taken a huge toll on tom’s arrogance and pride, and one can only hope that he won’t mess up the same way again after this.

warning, this take on tom’s character has a LOT of sawyerberry. another catalyst for tom’s growth could be huck leaving st. petersburg. i think it’s safe to say that although tom loves huck as his best friend, he takes his friendship for granted. huck needs to get out of town, find himself to gain more confidence and make relationships outside of tom so that he’s not so codependent on him. tom needs to realize just how much huck doesn’t need him, how much huck can thrive outside of st. petersburg and without tom. huck has always been a compassionate, generous person, and tom needs to become more appreciative of all the traits he dismissed before.

also, huck influencing tom to think outside of society’s set of rules that he, for the most part, is so stuck in. huck influences tom to adopt more abolitionist sentiments. strictly speaking in a romantic sense, the realization that tom might have feelings for huck causes him to go through the very long, difficult process of struggling to accept what he feels and decide whether he’s going to stay inside his comfort zone, where it is safe, or leave it and everyone inside. him realizing he just might be part of a marginalized group of people, a group of people that a christian town like his would find the feelings he feels, that he didn’t ask for, despicable, could be a huge wake-up call.

basically i feel that through nothing but fate (and huck) humbling tom a LOT could he go down a much better path than if he just continued to make a great name for himself all the time in st. petersburg. always staying within the comfortability of his hometown and having everyone inside of it think so highly of him all the time isn’t a challenge to tom’s worst personal flaws. going against the grain of society alongside huck just might be though.

in the end i just think of a young adult tom as someone who is still too proud at times for his own good, still gets wound up too easily over good literature. but instead he moons over books within the strict safety net of his brain. he’s just as clever and cunning and capable as he has ever been, but through years and years of reflection and the very difficult process of bettering himself, he decides he doesn’t want to go to the country’s greatest law school, or become judge thatcher’s apprentice, or president! he doesn’t feel the need for the same glory he used to!! he just wants to be with huck, and so they live in a humble house on the countryside, where they’re afforded some privacy.

he’s still himself, still a somewhat deeply flawed guy. but he’s trying to be better.

[rachaelswrites]

Nicknames

A/N: I didn’t include all actors/characters but if you want one just send it in and I’ll do it. I’ll start including these in my writing

~~~~~~

Here are some nicknames that each of the reader’s have been given

Sebastian Stan “prinţesă”

-Obviously, its Romanian

-There were a few he tried out with you when you were younger but this one stuck for multiple reasons:

-You were a major daddy’s girl (still are) and you pretty much got anything you wanted. You were almost on the verge of spoiled brat

-It also didn’t help that you had a very huge liking for Disney and it’s princesses

-Those dresses with the matching shoes? You had almost all of them

-He called you that until you grew out of your princess obsession, saving it for certain times

-The first time you ended a long term friendship was the first time he used it in years. He’d either call you by your name or something more generic like “Sweetheart”

-You came home visibly upset and ran right into your dad’s arms

-You’d never been this upset before so he said it, hoping in some way it would calm you down

“It’s alright Prinţesă, I’ve got you”

-When it worked that time, he did it again after your first break up.

-You were more angry than sad this time

-He had to hold you down on the couch so you couldn’t hurt anyone

“Prinţesă, calm down. He’s not worth a criminal record

-He used it on days when you were sick or were feeling down

-Maybe even if you were in trouble

-You and him both thought by the age of sixteen, you would hate the nickname but surprisingly, you liked it even more

Chris Evans “peanut”

-Another case of daddy’s girl

-This one comes from several trips to Red Sox’s games

-Chris wanted to get you into sports when you were young (just to watch, not necessarily to play)

-He took you and Scott to one of the first games of the season and he bought peanuts, in his true American way

-You were seated in between him and Scott

-Both of them were sharing the bag while you had ice cream

-Peanuts were a new food for you and you wanted to try them. You grabbed a handful of them and copied your dad’s movements to crack open the shells

-You ate like twenty in less than a minute

-You loved them so much and that’s how that name happened

-Unlike the others, Chris uses this name pretty regularly 

-You didn’t mind how often he used it until he started using it on front of your friends

“Hey peanut, do you guys need anything?”

“Dad! That’s embarrassing”

-Your face went bright red and for the rest of the day, your friends teased you (in a loving, joking way)

-Chris realized his small mistake and was a little more careful about when he used it

-Scott called you it once and you swear, you never saw your dad move so quickly

“She’s my peanut, not yours. Find your own nickname”

-Anytime he posts a picture of you on Twitter/Instagram, he used that name instead of your own

Matthew Gray Gubler “munchkin”

-Three words

-Wizard. Of. Oz.

-You had a very weird obsession with this movie. It’s almost embarrassing looking back at it now

-By the time you were three, you knew all the words (as best as you could) to all the songs

-Matthew was about to lose his mind because he had the songs in his head as well, twenty-four-seven.

-You would talk and talk about how much you wanted to go to Munchkin land and be a Munchkin

-It also didn’t help that at the time, you were probably close to the same height

-Sadly, as you got older, you and your dad learned you didn’t develop his height

-You were a whopping 5’2 at the age of fifteen

-And the name stuck

-He knew you weren’t super fond of the name but somehow, it always cheered you up

-If you had a tough day at school, he’d sit on the couch and let you vent

“Let it all out Munchkin”

-You secretly did like the name (even though the origins were embarrassing)

-Matthew never let you live down that obsession 

-When you were on set and he called you that, everyone asked why.

“Matthew, why do you call her Munchkin?”

“Dad, don’t do it”

“She was obsessed with The Wizard of Oz”

-He also very rarely referred to you as “Y/n” on social media, opting for Munchkin instead

-Trying to get back at him, you tried to come up with some ridiculous name for him

“I’m going to call you dancer. Cause that’s how you broke your knee”

-That one didn’t last long but Munchkin sure did

Tom Holland “bubs or darling”

-Tom gets two because I can’t pick

-Bubs is because you are the baby out of all of the brothers

-It was also because before you could say any brother’s name, you just called them bubs

-Sam, Harry, and Paddy also called you Bubs. They still call you that sometimes so Tom wanted to try something new

-When you were about five or six, he accidentally called you darling

-It wasn’t a typical brother/sister name but it suited you

-You were such a kind person and your favorite movie to watch with Tom was Peter Pan

-And the last name of Wendy was Darling, so he thought it fitted

-When he called you darling, it was mostly after he came home from filming

“I missed you so much Darling”

-You liked the meaning behind your nickname

-Tom used Bubs if you weren’t feeling like yourself

-Whether it was a bad day or if you were sick

“Take some medicine Bubs” or “Bubs, tell me what’s going on”

-He hated the others calling him Tommy but for you, he’d let you do it anytime you wanted

-Literally, you were the only person he let you call him Tommy

-But he was the only person who could call you Darling

Bucky Barnes “doll”

-Classic

-This one is pretty self explanatory

-It was common during your childhood but once you were in the 21st century, Bucky couldn’t part with it

-It reminded him of the past (in a good way) and he always wanted to relive those memories 

-You were eight when HYDRA took him and then you

-The name reminded him of when you were little, and it reminded you too

-While Bucky was in Wakanda, he’d send you letters once he woke up

“Hey Doll, I miss you so much. Hopefully we can see each other soon”

-You kept them all with you

-And when The Snap happened, you’d read those letters back to yourself everyday

“The sunset was really pretty today Doll, it reminded me of the ones from when you were little”

-After those five years, that was the first thing he said to you

“I’m glad you’re safe Doll”

-It only took one time for Sam to tease you about it before you threatened to hurt him

“You make fun of it one more time and I swear it’ll be the last”

-Sam didn’t really understand why that name meant so much to you

-Bucky had to explain it to him

-It was really one of the only things you had left of your childhood

-And it was the one thing you could hold onto for the rest of your life

Ransom Drysdale “princess”

-Again, I think this one is self explanatory and obvious

-You’re spoiled, no doubt about it

-The name actually came from Meg

-She was a few years older than you and she was so used to being the only girl in the family

-And now she had to deal with you

-The reason she called you that was pretty stupid in the first place but as an eight year old, it didn’t matter to her

-You had spilled your drink on her by accident and onto her new shoes

-She went red in the face and started screaming in your face. You burst into tears

-You were only four and Ransom had never raised his voice at you. It was a new experience for you

-All the adults came into the room and walked into the scene of Meg screaming and you crying

-Ransom scooped you up and told Meg off

-Of course Joni took her daughter’s side but no one else did, making her mad

“She never gets in trouble. She’s such a princess”

-After that incident, your dad only used that name just to piss everyone off

-Like there was no need for him to but he just did it

“Princess, come here”

-In general, Ransom liked to show you off and the nickname Princess was the best way to do that

-As you got older, he felt weird using it. Meg had finally gotten over herself and everyone accepted the fact that your dad was spoiling you rotten

-You didn’t need a name to show that

-But as you got older, the issues in the family and all the problems started to weigh down on you

-There was so much drama that happened at family dinners, you were completely drained and exhausted once you got home

-Ransom could tell something was up so he reached into his bag of good parenting skills (which he definitely had, which shocked everyone) and called you Princess for the first time in ten years

“Princess, please tell me what’s wrong”

-For some reason, that one name made everything better for you

-Ransom noticed the small improvement in your mood so he kept calling you that on the daily

“How was school today Princess?” 

-And in front of the family again

“Princess, it’s time to go”

-This name was literally just used to show the other Thrombey’s that you and your dad were better than them

-Of course though, you didn’t need a nickname to see that

Spencer Reid “squirt”

-Another name based on an obsession

-But this one can be blamed on Garcia

-While Spencer was on a case one time, she was in charge of watching you

-To keep you entertained while at the BAU, she put on Finding Nemo

-That was a mistake

-From that point on, you had a weird fascination with sea turtles, because of Squirt

-Once Spencer got back, you would not shut up about turtles

“Daddy, look what I just read”

-He was glad you found something you were interested in. He sort of hoped you would find something closer to a more “normal” topic but he would never stop you from learning

-Spencer wasn’t sure how the name fell onto you but once it did, he didn’t stop using it

-He generally used it in the apartment with just you and him

“Squirt, can you pick your toys up for me?” or as you were older “Squirt, can you grab those books for me?”

-He used it a lot when you felt stressed and you weren’t telling him

-So whenever he called you that, you knew you might as well tell him

“Tell me what’s going on Squirt”

-It was such a small gesture but it really did help you

-He tried to explain why it probably made you feel better but you weren’t too interested in the science behind it

-The only time he used it in front of the team is when he got back from a case

-You always met him at the BAU (he made sure you were there to greet him)

-You would stand in front of the elevator and wait for the doors to open

-And when they did, you ran into his arms and he wrapped them around your body

“I missed you Squirt”

-The team absolutely adored that nickname but knew to never call you that, unless they wanted an angry Reid on their hands

Emily Prentiss “love”

-To me, Emily just has European vibes and so does this nickname

-Probably because Emily grew up in Europe, she developed this habit of calling you Love

-The parents of her friends growing up used that name

-She sort of just picked up on it, starting when she first held you in the hospital

“Hi Love, I’m your momma”

-It’s such a simple but meaningful name to her

-You were truly the one person she loved the most (even her mom and even Sergio)

-Speaking of, once she brought Sergio home you started calling him that as well

-You were only four and didn’t understand the concept but Emily didn’t stop you

“Hi Wove”

-Emily never used this in front of people unless something was wrong

-As you got older, it was used more as a reassurance for you

-Her “death” was really hard on you and every case, she would check in 

-Lots of the time, the phone calls were short and around the other members of the team

“Hi Love, I miss you. The team says hi”

“I miss you too momma”

-Very rarely would she use it in normal, everyday conversation

-If you were visiting the office, sometimes it would slip out

“Hey Love, are you doing your homework?”

-In front of the team, she used names like “baby” or “honey”

-Love was strictly reserved for just you and her

Jennifer Jareau “bug”

-First thing to know

-If anyone besides JJ called you Bug, even Will, she would literally rip their heads off

-This name was super personal to her and she didn’t want the meaning to be ruined

-You had taken after her love and fascination with butterflies

-Except you hadn’t learned the word butterfly so you just called them bugs, hence the nickname

-JJ only called you two things “Y/n” and “Bug”

-Nothing else

-At one point, Will was convinced that she might’ve forgotten your first name because she called you Bug so much

“JJ, she has a first name you know”

“I know, I think Bug fits her better”

-She did attempt to get your name changed, but to be fair, she was drunk when that happened

-She didn’t care that as you got older, the name was a little embarrassing, especially around your friends

“I’ll pick you up at seven Bug”

“Mom! Really? In front of my friends?”

-Your brothers for awhile thought your name was Bug, because she really only called you that at home

“Do you need help with your homework Bug?” or “Bug, can you set the table?”

-You didn’t realize the meaning behind the nickname until she explained it to you

-And once you did, the name meant so much more to you

-Will helped you pick out a matching necklace set of two butterflies

-You gave it to her after a case and she cried, knowing exactly what it’s meaning was

“Thank you Bug, I love it”

-She never took that necklace off, ever

Taglist

@ssebstann @peachyprincessss @emmy-writes-sometimes @dudele @kerrswriting @laura-naruto-fan1998 @multifamdomfan12 @aquariuslavenderhoney @rafehogwarts

[myficdump]

Love Like You: Ch.1

Here it is! The Eddsworld fic I've been writing for 3 days :D. This is a platonic soulmates fic with soul marks and so far, the main focus is on platonic yandere Tord & Edd. This is going to be a multi-chapter fic and there won't be any ships. All pairings are platonic. I've yet to decide Tord's age, but I'm thinking maybe 26? Edd, Tom, and Matt are 17. Also, I have big events planned out but everything in between is vague so ideas are appreciated.

The title is from the su song Love Like You, but it might change as I figure things out and if I find something that fits better. I hope you guys like this! <3 <3 <3

_______________________________

The three marks practically covered his entire forearm. Although they were three different flowers, they just clicked. They fit so well that unless you were close up, it looked like one soul mark. Edd liked that. It perfectly described his relationship with his three friends. Or, soon to be three friends. He had hoped he’d find the third one soon. Two of the marks belonged to Tom and Matt, who he found when he was young. He felt so complete when he brushed against them on the school’s playground. It was as if they filled a gap in his soul that he never realized he was missing.

Edd’s third mark was a mix of black and red today. It was a stark contrast from the mix of light blue and yellow of Tom’s and Matt’s marks. Hesitantly, Edd brushed his fingers against the top mark and winced. A sharp jab of dull anger and agitation welled up into his chest. Ah, something had really set off his friend today. He moved his hand lower down his forearm to trace over Tom and Matt’s soul marks instead. A wave of calm and contentedness swept the echoes of the anger away and he pulled his hoodie sleeve down.

While he liked running his hand over his marks as he did his schoolwork, he didn’t want to continuously touch his top mark if his friend was having an awful day. It would affect his own mood. He worried that if he did, then his friend would touch their own mark and then both of them would stay in a vicious cycle of intense negative emotions. It was a real concern as it’s happened a few times before.

Edd often keeps his hand pressed against his top mark, basking in his friend’s good mood. Especially when he’s had a rough day at school. Of course, his friend took notice once as they pressed their hand against their mark and their emotions intensified. Slowly, his mood lifted and when he concentrated enough, he was able to send a “Hi!” with as much warmth as he could. No matter what soul mark a person had, they were always able to talk to their soulmate if both of them were touching the mark at the same time and concentrated hard enough. He didn’t do this much with Tom and Matt as he saw them practically every day and had their numbers, but it was rare he was able to talk to his friend.

It was also rare because his friend didn’t touch their mark at the same time as him often.

After sending his greeting, his top mark changed to a deep white mixed with dark pink. Edd had laughed seeing that. It wasn’t often his friend was surprised. And seeing the affection mixed in made warmth fill his chest.

“Hello!” His friend sent back. “You sound young.”

Edd laughed. Of all the things his friend could have said, they had to comment on his voice. His friend didn’t sound bad themselves. Their voice was deep, with an accent he couldn’t place. Still, he wasn’t going to assume their gender. Only looking out for one type of person could cause him to miss who they were.

“No! I’ll be an adult soon,” He sent back, tongue sticking out in focus. “You have a… nice voice.!”

“Thank you. Listen, I have to go now. But I'll find you. I promise.” A tinge of regret passed through him, but they sent him another wave of affection through their mark.

Quickly, before they moved their hand, Edd sent, “I can’t wait to meet you!” along with his best attempt to project his own affection and happiness to them. He didn’t know if it worked, but their emotions dulled.

In hopes that they’d be able to do that again soon, he kept his hand pressed against his mark for ten more minutes until his mom called him downstairs for dinner.

So yeah, he wasn’t going to do that right now. At least, not until he checks later if his friend’s mood changes.

If that short conversation wasn’t proof enough, his friend was definitely older than him. Perhaps not old enough to be his third grandparent, but certainly older than him. Plus, he’s had that mark on his arm since he was born. All three of his marks were platonic soul marks, which were the flower type. Most often, these signaled platonic love. Edd took that to mean that all three of his soul marks were his best friends.

Romantic soul marks were often different, but as he and neither of his friends had one, he doesn’t know much about them since he never bothered to look into it.

Half of his childhood had been spent figuring out what his and his friends' marks were. After they learned how to read, they spent at least an hour inside the library searching for flowers that matched their marks. Finding them was difficult, but they were pretty sure his top marks were Heliotropes! And according to the flower guide they found, it meant eternal love/devotion. It was sweet and had him convinced that his friend would be his best friend.

The second mark on his arm, Tom’s, were Chrysanthemums. “You’re a wonderful friend,” the book had said it meant. His third and final mark, Matt, was Lisianthus. They represent appreciation/admiration for a friend, gratefulness, and charisma.

Unlike Edd, Tom and Matt only had two flower marks. Tom’s first mark, Edd, was Asters. It had meant a form of deep emotional love and affection, along with the message of “take care of yourself for me”. It was very fitting, A Hyacinth, Matt’s mark, was Tom’s last mark. Interestingly enough, under the picture of the flower, the book just said “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” Other books just said they meant sorrow, regret, and forgiveness. Any time Edd asks about it, Tom clams up and asks him to leave it alone. Some things were just not meant to be shared.

Matt’s first mark, Edd, was Morning Glories. They meant affection and love. His second mark, Tom, was Daisy’s. While meaning loyal love and purity, there was also a deeper meaning of keeping a secret between friends. Again, there was a story there. Edd didn’t know what the secret could be, but based on his friends' reactions when he asked them, he left it alone.

Each of their marks was on their left forearms and except for Tom’s single Hyacinth, they were in bunches with multiples of the same flower.

Edd loved them, he really did. When he doubted his friendship with them, he’d look at his marks and remind himself that’s what they thought of him. It was just hard sometimes, to remember that he was loved. Sometimes he felt like an imposter, like he didn’t deserve their love. If asked why, he wouldn’t be able to put it into words. It was just how he felt at times.

Late at night when he wasn’t feeling too great, when stress just ate at him, he’d run his fingers over his arm, feeling his mark and whatever emotions his friend was feeling. He’d remind himself that if nothing else, the Heliotropes showed that his friend would always love him. Oftentimes, his friend was feeling content at night, and feeling that while stressed really helped him calm down.

Though on rare nights, his friend fed into his stress, morphing his feelings into a wave of intense anger as he rubbed his mark. He hated those nights but could never bring himself to move his hand away from his mark.

Edd sighed and put his pencil down. He didn’t feel like finishing his schoolwork anymore. Maybe Tom and Matt could come over and play games with him?

* * * * *

Meanwhile, in another country, Tord was pacing back and forth in his office. “Fucking incompetent, pieces of shit,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “They had one job! One easy, little job and still they fucked it up!”

He ran a shaky hand through his hair. As the job truly was an easy one, how this happened, Tord didn’t have a clue. All those two idiots had to do was go into the government building, collect the information from the mole he planted there, and bring it back. That was it! Tord could’ve done it himself if he wasn’t so busy. And yet, the two morons were still caught, very nearly giving away the identity of his mole.

He wished he could bring the two back and torture them for this. But alas, they were already dead. Tord couldn’t afford either of them giving up any information on his army so he had them exterminated before they could be questioned. It didn’t stop him from wanting to smash something.

A knock on his door caused Tord to pause. As he took a deep breath, he stuck two fingers into the sleeve of his left arm to briefly trace his mark. He couldn’t see the color, but a cool flow of calmness and excitement pricked his rage. It was enough to stop him from shouting.

“You may enter.”

Paul entered the room, which wasn’t a surprise. He was one of the few who weren’t scared shitless to bother him when he was in a rage.

“You’re going on a vacation.”

“Excuse me,” Tord said flatly, a scowl on his face.

Paul continued on as if he wasn’t in danger of being shot in the foot. Well, to be fair, he wasn’t. Tord would never get rid of one of the more competent people in his army and Paul fully knew it. “With all due respect, don’t even try to argue with me. I could practically hear you grinding your teeth from outside the door and you’re going to wear a hole in your carpet. At this point, if you don’t rest, you’re going to give yourself stress ulcers.”

Closing his eyes, Tord took another deep breath and counted to ten. For good measure, he shoved his fingers into his sleeve again to press against his mark. The calmness and excitement soothed his rage as he said with an even voice, “And who else agrees with you?”

“The only name I’ll give up is Pat. I’m not stupid enough to think you won’t take your anger out at anyone else. Get ready, the plane leaves tonight.”

“You really aren’t going to give me enough time to sort anything out?”

Paul shot him an annoyed look. “No, because knowing you, you’ll just get too sucked into your work and not pack. I’ll take care of anything urgent.” He saluted Tord before leaving.

Tord rubbed his temples as he muttered, “He didn’t even tell me where I was going.” He dropped into his seat and yanked his desk drawer open. Leaning back in his chair, he lit a cigar and planned countless scenarios of his “vacation”.

A small part of his mind hoped he could find the owner of his mark. They seemed so nice compared to him.

Knowledge of his leave was no doubt spreading through his base like a wildfire, so he had no doubt no one would bother him. His soul mark was safe from prying eyes, so he rolled up his sleeve and traced the outline of the Sunflowers. His face morphed from a scowl to a small smile. His beloved was still feeling calm and excited. He wondered what they were up to.

The Sunflowers lived up to their name as they truly did bring warmth to his life. They were supposed to mean adoration and loyalty. He hadn’t met them yet, but considering they were a kid, the sunflowers were fitting. It’d be even more apparent once he met them.

Tord’s smile dropped. He really wanted to find them, get to know them, and fill their bond. But what about his army? So many people wanted him dead and in no good conscience could he drag a kid into this mess. He never allowed anyone under eighteen to join and from the short talk he had with his beloved, they sounded too young to be eighteen. People could say what they wanted about him, but he refuses to have child soldiers.

If he found them, he’d have to bring them back here. Hiding them here was the only way he could keep them safe.

With that train of thought, Tord sat up. Already a plan was forming in his mind. Nothing could be concrete until he met them, but he’d have an empty room ready for him near his own. Just in case he found them on this trip. Chances were slim but he hated not being prepared.

With that in mind, he left his office to go pack. The thought of finding them made this trip a little more bearable.

[incorrectbandofbrothersquotes]

Downton’s Easy Company - Chapter 16

A Band of Brothers x Downton Abbey Crossover

Summary: The new generation of Downton is taking over, but just as the second world war is raging across Europe. On a cool London night, the children of the Crawleys meet the boys of the American 101st Airborne. Worlds collide and hearts are on the line.

Word Count: 3.4k

Tag List: @purplelavalamp​​​, @johnny-martin-is-mypeanut​​​, @the-disassembled-boy​​​, @tvserie-s-world​​​, @50svibes​​​, @cherriesx​​​, @incognito-princess​​​, @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant​​​, @claire-bear-1218, @goingmyway​​​​, @marv-llous​​​, @foalystechcrew​​​, @mother-dearest-loves-me​​, @dench1992​​​, @neverendingstories00​​​, @greenmonkeyfish, @grumpablebutloveable​​​, @lilaxdream​​​ @iilovemusic12us​​​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: I hope you enjoy this update! There’s a lot of letters, but I figured they were the best way to show the time passing while they’re separated, so I hope that comes across to everyone :)

Warning(s): None :)

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10  Chapter 11  Chapter 12  Chapter 13  Chapter 14  Chapter 15

OR

READ THIS FIC ON AO3

Chapter 16 here we go!!!

Dear George,

I’m so relieved you’re back in England. Let us know when you have some leave so we can prepare for you here at home. We miss you a great deal.

Katrine seems sweet enough, though she is rather private. Her boy has made himself quite comfortable, especially with Mama and Papa. We offered to hire a nanny, but Katrine wouldn’t hear of it. It seems an odd way to raise a child to me, but I suppose it comes from her own upbringing. 

You’re right about the boy being bright. Papa and I have taken initiative and are looking into some schools close by. He’s too young to enroll just yet, but we had a tutor evaluate him, and the report was quite promising. 

I do wish you’d tell me how you came by these two. I know you said they helped you when you were trapped in Holland, but I’d like the full story. Perhaps when you come home next, you and I can have a long discussion about it, and the possibilities for the Mondeels here in Yorkshire.

On an unrelated note, have you heard anything from Caroline? We haven’t seen her since before Christmas, and she has not been answering my letters. Have we done something to upset her? If you have any information, do share.

I hope you’re well, my darling.

Love,

Mother. 

***

Dear Ron,

I can’t tell you how good it was to hear from you after all those weeks of silence. I’m also glad you’re out of danger (mostly) and can correspond again. I’ve missed you, as weak as it sounds to admit it. 

Baby and I are doing just fine. I am starting to show more now. So much so that I’m finally making use of the maternity clothes Victoria brought me. I’ve had them tailored so that they’re more modern - not that fashion matters much in times like this - but it does make me feel better. 

I’m ashamed to say that I haven’t been in touch with my family. Just Marigold, Sybbie, Victoria, and George. There isn’t much to tell them except the one thing I know I can’t tell them. As I told you, it doesn’t feel like the sort of thing you put in a letter. Do you think I should grit my teeth and bear it? Or can I put it off a little longer? I’m really beginning to miss my mother, whose presence would be much appreciated by her frightened daughter. 

I must make another admission. I am scared of this. Of the birth, yes, but mostly what comes after. We are going to be responsible for a life. It’s completely overwhelming. Not that I want to bog you down, you’ve got plenty to worry about where you are, but do you ever think of such things? How do you feel about a nanny? I had one growing up, but I understand you likely did not. Was it helpful to you? There’s so much to consider.

I’m also trying to come up with names. I like plenty of boy’s names, but I am starting to wonder if we should have a girl name picked out as well, just in case. I really do think it’s a boy, but one can never be too prepared. 

Here are the names I like so far:

Robert (after my grandfather)

Phillip

Theodore (Ted for short)

Wesley

Charles

Let me know your opinion on these. Keep in mind, his middle name should be Ronald, after you, as is tradition. Do you do that in America? 

If you’ve got any girl names, send them along. I really do think we should decide on one of each.

Be careful, love.

Your Caroline

***

Caroline,

Glad everything’s alright. I’m doing fine. I’d tell you more details, but they’d be redacted anyway, so what’s the point?

You tell your family only when you’re ready. Don’t worry about them. Focus on staying healthy. That’s the only priority right now. If you really need your mom, reach out. She might not like it, but she is still your mother. 

Nobody’s ever really ready for parenthood. Just remember that we are adults and it’s a baby. It doesn’t know how to do anything. We can handle this. 

I did not have a nanny, but depending on how the war goes, you might need the help. Let’s play that one by ear. Don’t overthink it. 

Girls' names are irrelevant, we’re not having a girl. 

As for the names you’ve chosen, here are my thoughts.

Robert is a no go. That’s Colonel Sink’s name and I don’t want to give him a big head.

Phillip is a possibility. 

No to Theodore/Ted. Much too old sounding. 

Wesley can stay in the running. 

I don’t like Charles. 

Now, for your consideration, here are names that I like: 

James

Thomas 

Leo

Haven’t been able to think of much more. But let me know what you think. 

Ron

***

Ron,

You are truly a stubborn arse. All the more shame on me for falling for you, I suppose. 

In spite of all that, I thank you for your reassurance. I will wait some more before telling my family. Marigold and Victoria are doing a very good job of caring for me. 

If you refuse to acknowledge the possibility of a girl, I will simply choose a name myself and you will just have to live with it. I like Violet, after my great-grandmother.

As for the boy names you picked out, I have to say no to Thomas. My uncle is Tom Branson, and then we have our butler Thomas Barrow, and I should hate for our child’s name to be confused with those two. I don’t mean that in a bad way, they’re two of my favorite people, but to have three Tom/Thomas’s in my heart would only get confusing. 

The other two names I very much like. So our list is now down to: 

Phillip

Wesley

James

Leo

(and Violet)

We can narrow it down further at a later date. I’m afraid I have to cut this letter short as I have a doctor’s appointment. 

Stay safe, love.

Your Caroline

Speirs wrinkled his nose at the latest letter. It may have also been because of the dank smell of Haguenau, but he preferred to blame Caroline. Truly, he was fond of the final list of names. He stared at the last one that she scratched out and turned it over in his mind. 

“Violet?” he murmured. 

“Sir?” questioned Lipton from his spot on the couch.

Speirs looked at the sergeant. “What do you think of the name Violet?”

Lipton’s brow furrowed. Before he could answer, he coughed, a small rattle still in his chest, though he was doing much better than before. 

“Violet?” he asked. “For what, like a cat?”

“No, like a baby,” Speirs said. 

He still had not told any of his men about Caroline’s pregnancy. He considered telling Lipton now, just to have someone around he could consult on these matters, but thought better of it. Enough people knew as it was and Caroline was not around to give her permission. 

“Ah, I see,” Lip replied. “I think it’s sweet. Traditional, but not overdone.”

Speirs was surprised that Lip did not challenge a baby name inquiry at a time like this. That was Lip, though. All support, no questions asked. Speirs took a deep breath.

“What do you think of Phillip?”

***

Dear Joe,

I hope I haven’t offended you somehow. It’s been weeks with no word from you. And the girls have received letters from others in your company, so I can’t help feeling like it’s personal. If something has changed between us, I hope you will share that with me. Just give me some clarity, please.

Love,

Victoria

Joe sighed, struggling to put the letter into his pocket with the truck rocking through the countryside. Eventually, he tucked it away and buttoned his pocket over it. Webster watched Joe with keen interest. Especially since Joe’s face looked so pained as he read. 

“Everything alright?” Webster asked. 

“What’s it to you?” Joe returned. 

Webster shrugged. “Alright, I’ll mind my business.”

He returned to his journal. Joe chewed his cheek and glowered out at the scenery. 

“It’s Victoria,” he admitted.

He needed to talk to someone about it. Why not Web? 

Webster looked up curiously. “What about her?”

“I think I gotta break up with her,” Joe said. “We’re just...too different.”

“Is that so bad?” Webster wondered. “Maybe you can balance each other out.”

“Nah, I think we want different things,” Joe insisted. “I love the girl, but I can’t ask her to give up everything for me, y’know?”

“I can’t say I’m familiar with the situation,” Webster said. “But I understand what you’re saying. Either way you go, one of you will be making a huge sacrifice. What you have to decide is if it’s worth it.”

Joe heaved another sigh. “I don’t know…”

“I think you have your answer then,” Webster said. 

With that, he started writing again and left Joe to his thoughts. Joe considered that. He wasn’t totally sure about Victoria. If he was, shouldn’t he be willing to sacrifice? But he thought of her sweet smile and the tenderness of her heart, and he felt weak. He was lucky Victoria wanted to be with him, wanted to compromise with him. He had to think about it some more. He needed to decide what he really wanted out of life. But what were the possibilities? They were heading into Germany, but the war was not over yet. 

***

Dear Dick,

Paris is settling down and beginning to feel like the place I left years ago. It’s been fun to take Victoria and Caroline around. Caroline is getting bigger every day it seems, but she’s very healthy. Incredibly, I felt the child kick, and I daresay it made me rather emotional. I feel my cousin is hardly out of her own childhood, and now she is bringing new life into the world. 

It reminds me of my own mother. I wish I could confide this in Caroline, but I feel it isn’t really my story to tell. I’m a key player in it, of course, but obviously my mother’s privacy comes first. Thank you again for your own discretion. 

Seeing Caroline become a mother has also put thoughts of my own future into perspective. After everything I’ve been through, I want very much to live simply. Because of my parentage, I can never really belong in the world my family exists in. I don’t think it’s what I want anyway. I just want a peaceful, quiet place to raise a family and perhaps write a novel. How do you picture your life after the war? I don’t believe we’ve discussed it before. I do hope I am somewhere in your imaginings. You are certainly in mine. 

You are also in my thoughts and prayers. Do take care of yourself. 

Love, 

Marigold

Dick read over Marigold’s words, touched. She said exactly the things he was hoping she would. They were heading in the same direction, with the same goals. It was a relief to him. It was easy to picture Marigold as his wife, at his side. He admired her, respected her, and loved her. 

“What are you smiling about over there?” Nixon teased. 

Dick shook his head. “Nothing. Just something nice Marigold wrote.”

“Oh?” Nix returned, raising a curious eyebrow. 

“Yeah,” Dick said. “I think it’s time to talk about something more serious between us.”

Nix smirked. “Should I say congratulations now or wait until after the ceremony?”

Dick rolled his eyes. 

***

Dear Marigold,

It might sound silly, but I made a promise to myself after D-Day that should I survive the war, I’d find myself somewhere quiet to live out my life in peace. And you are absolutely a part of that picture. You have belonged there since that fateful day in the elevator. 

I’m glad to hear Caroline is doing alright with the baby. I would like to check on Speirs, but it feels like an awkward thing to ask about. So I’m afraid I don’t have any updates on him, though I’m sure he’s in contact with Caroline. 

Germany is surprisingly nice. Maybe it’s the warm weather or the lack of artillery, but we’re enjoying it here. The war should be over soon. So I’m happy to begin planning that future with you if that’s what you want. That obviously includes an offer I’d rather make in person, and we can have that conversation the next time I see you. Hopefully, that won’t be too long. 

I love you and miss you.

Yours, 

Dick

***

Dear Gene,

Bill and Joe are doing alright. They’ll be heading home soon, and selfish as it is, I will miss them terribly. They’re truly the most entertaining patients I’ve ever had, especially Bill. But of course you’re familiar with his personality. 

I hope I’m able to get to Paris soon to be with Caroline. She has asked me to be there to be an advocate for her for something big coming up. Really big. I’m afraid I can’t tell you exactly what it is, as it’s just a bit scandalous. But she’s made some wishes known to me. That sounds ominous, but everything is going well so far.

I hope you’re doing well. With spring’s arrival, there must be a bit of a reprieve if you’re outdoors. Do you have a comfortable place to sleep at least? Lord knows you and your men have earned it. 

As for myself, I’ve applied to a university in Dublin, to attend in the fall (if the war is over, and it looks like it may be soon). I think it’s high time I experienced my Irish heritage and I want more for myself. I love being a nurse, but I want to explore all my options. I haven’t told anyone in the family yet. I’m going to Downton soon and will talk it over with George (he’s home on leave), but I wanted to tell you first. I could use additional hopes for my acceptance. 

Look after yourself. Get some rest. Don’t forget to eat. 

All my love,

Sybbie

Eugene tried not to be dismayed at the news. He wanted Sybbie to do what was best for her, but it dashed his hopes of asking her to come back to Louisiana with him. Not permanently - at least not right away - but to see a bit of his world. The way he had seen hers at Downton Abbey. He supposed it was still possible, but there was no guarantee of when the war would be over and their timeframe depended entirely on that. 

Even if she was able to visit, how could they progress together - if that was even what they were - with her in Dublin and him at home? He tried to picture himself staying in Europe, but he hated the idea. He missed home too much. He did not feel he belonged in Europe, nor did he particularly want to. For the first time, they weren’t on the same page.

***

Dear Sybbie, 

Thanks for all the updates on Guarnere and Toye. We’re all worried about them, and your letters put our minds at ease. I know those two appreciated your help too, and they’ll miss you back in the states. 

It sounds awfully suspicious about Caroline. I trust you though. And she must too if she’s asking you to join her in Paris. 

Good news, I am sleeping in a bed most nights. You’re so sweet to worry about things like that for me. 

I’m proud of you for taking a chance and applying to school. Not a lot of girls have the courage to do that, even if they want to. But you’re spirited enough. I have no doubt you’ll get in. You’re a brilliant nurse, and even if you aren’t accepted, you’ll have a great career ahead of you. 

You should tell your father you applied. I think it’ll make him really happy that you’re interested in Ireland. And you’ll have his hopes in your corner as well. 

I know it’s unlikely, but I hope I’ll get to see you before you go. 

Take care of yourself,

Eugene

***

Dear Caroline,

I’m home again on leave, and I still haven’t confessed my feelings to Kat or to Mother. Do you think me a dreadful coward? I’m beginning to think it of myself. In fairness, Mother hardly lets me alone when I’m at home, so Kat and I barely get time together for me to be able to have any sort of real discussion with her. I have bought a ring, though, and enclosed the catalog I purchased it from for your approval. You have very fine taste, and I trust you. 

How are you doing? The arrival should be soon, right? Spring is fully upon us now - truly a good time for welcoming something new. I hope it all goes smoothly and you come out of it feeling as strong as I know you to be. I’m looking forward to your return to Downton. 

Stay safe.

Your brother, 

George

Caroline rubbed her swollen belly as she read George’s letter, her back aching. Her cousins were around her, Sybbie finally having arrived at last. The baby was due soon. May snuck up on her so quickly, she wondered where the time went. Nerves began to eat at her the closer she got, especially since she still had not told the rest of the family. She took Ron’s words to heart. She would only tell them when she was good and ready. 

She decided also to get the birth over with before telling them. Perhaps they would be charmed by how cute it would be - which she was certain of - and would be more forgiving. It was always harder to be honest to someone’s face, especially a baby’s, and Caroline was banking on that. Plus, she wanted to arrange for George to be with her when she told them. She hoped he would wait on proposing to Kat. The ring he chose was stunning, and she made a mental note to tell him so.

On the morning of May 8, Caroline enjoyed breakfast with Sybbie and Victoria while Marigold went down to get a newspaper. Caroline sipped her tea and hoped there would be some good news at last. 

“Why don’t you just turn on the radio?” Victoria wondered.

“Because it’s ghastly noise,” Caroline said. “Mornings are meant for quietly reading the newspaper like sensible people.”

Victoria laughed and rolled her eyes. Suddenly, Marigold burst into the room, looking winded and completely shell shocked. She’d clearly run all the way up from the lobby. 

“Goodness, Marigold, what is it?” Sybbie asked. 

“The war is over,” Marigold blurted out, holding out the day’s newspaper. 

They all saw the VE-Day headline, though they couldn’t quite believe it. After all these years at war, it had become the new normal. The send offs, the letters, the telegrams, the sleepless nights. It was all over. No more fighting. No more death. No more. 

“Good God in heaven,” Caroline breathed out. “Can it really be true?”

“It’s right there in black and white,” Marigold said, staring at the paper as if it were a bomb that might take her hand off any second. 

They all feared this was a dream they might wake up from. Slowly, Sybbie rose from her chair, tears filling her eyes. She gazed at each of her cousins, who she truly regarded more as sisters now, and she reached for their hands. She took hold of Caroline’s, Caroline took hold of Victoria’s, Victoria took Marigold’s, and then Marigold and Sybbie completed the circle. 

“We made it, girls,” Sybbie said. “And so did our men.”

Caroline blinked and a tear rolled down her cheek. She took a deep breath and blinked the rest away. 

“What are we blubbering about?” she joked. “This calls for a celebration! We should be ordering champagne not crying like babies!”

They all laughed and agreed, fighting the lumps in their throats and the mist in their eyes. And they did order champagne. Together, they shared a toast to the end of the war, and the start of their new lives. 

***

Dear Marigold,

I’ve talked things over with Colonel Sink, and he’s agreed to have you all join us in Zell am Zee, Austria. Our lodgings will suit you well, I think. Plus, I know Ron is anxious to be present when Caroline gives birth. Hopefully, it hasn’t already happened. If you can clear it with her doctor to travel, let me know when we can expect you. 

Looking forward to your answer. 

Yours,

Dick

[katikacreations]

(Cover illustration by @clowncauldron​ ) LINK TO AO3 VERSION IN THE NOTES! Formatting is better on AO3, it’s easier to read over there!

SUMMARY:  Fenton and Boyd chat on the way to the lab. Gyro introduces himself in the most melodramatic way possible, and Dr. Bara meets everyone at McDuck Enterprises R&D. Dr. Bara starts assessing Boyd and things get worse before they get better. Gyro thinks he's helping.

The bridge connecting Duckburg to McDuck Enterprises’ Headquarters (referred to by Duckburg locals as simply The Bin) had two layers. On the bottom was a four-lane road for car traffic which fed into the underground parking structure on The Bin’s private island, and on top was a well-aged monorail installed in 1961 that transported people to and from Duckburg to McDuck Enterprises HQ.

Fenton commuted to the lab this way every day, and despite the monorail’s age, the process was smooth, comfortable, and quick. He took the bus from home to Duckburg’s Grand Central Station, which had a direct connection to the McDuck monorail, which made sense: McDuck Enterprises was the number one employer in Duckburg after all.

Even though he had to walk from the bus terminal to the monorail station, he didn’t mind. Grand Central, like many public transportation hubs, was a pleasant indoor, mall-like environment with shops and restaurants. Sometimes, if Fenton was running ahead of schedule, he liked to grab himself a bagel and coffee for breakfast on his way through.

The monorail station had two entry kiosks and two exits. One exit returned you to the interior of Grand Central, in case you needed to make a connection or navigate to the underground parking lot. The other fed out into the street. You could exit the monorail station freely, but to enter it you had to pass through security, which was as robust as one might expect from something owned by Scrooge McDuck.

It was a well-planned, well-oiled system that had been functioning smoothly for decades. It never got too crowded, security was quick and efficient, and the trains always ran on time. Fenton had never even seen it break down a single time in the three years he’d been working for Dr. Gearloose, and he rode it nearly every day.

After scanning his employee ID at the turnstile, Fenton joined the other people waiting in line for the next train to arrive. He was surprised to find Boyd waiting in line just ahead of him. The boy-shaped android was wearing his usual outfit, along with the protective red glasses that prevented his laser eye weapons from doing accidental damage.

“Boyd, what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for the monorail,” Boyd said. This type of non-answer (or rather, answering the letter of a question and not the spirit) was not unusual coming from the android. Fenton was still trying to get the hang of talking to him and often forgot that Boyd wasn’t a human child.

“Right. Okay, that was my fault, too vague. What I really meant was, don’t you normally just fly to the lab? And aren’t you usually in the lab by this time?”

“I slept over at Huey’s house last night,” Boyd said, “and it’s too windy to fly right now. What are you doing here, Mr. Fenton?”

“I’m also waiting for the train,” Fenton said, knowing that Boyd was trying to be polite by mirroring his earlier question, and that answering him in a simple, clear way would reassure Boyd that he was doing a good job in this interaction. Fenton smiled at the android, and Boyd smiled back at him.

“I was looking at the lab calendar for today, and saw that we’re expecting a visitor. Who’s Dr. Bara?” Boyd asked.

The lab calendar was a part of the McDuck Enterprises Employee Portal (MEEP), an internal network where employees could clock in and out, send and receive emails, share files, and organize their work via private or shared calendars. The R&D Lab’s calendar was officially accessible to himself, Manny, Dr. Gearloose, and the Manager of the McDuck Enterprises Science Division, Tom Armadillo.

In the beginning, Boyd hadn’t been granted access to the MEEP, but that hadn’t stopped him from logging into it and looking around. His unauthorized access had caused a small panic in the IT department, who were convinced someone was trying to hack the network. They’d stormed the lab with a bunch of Security officers, and it had caused quite a stir.

After that, Boyd had been assigned an official log in, but he still sometimes accessed things he wasn’t supposed to. Fenton had once caught Boyd going through Dr. Gearloose’s emails, and though he’d tried to explain to Boyd why that had been a bad thing to do, he wasn’t sure if Boyd had really understood or accepted that he should be scolded for it.

Fenton had suspicions that Boyd read his emails, too, and so he wondered if Boyd really didn’t know who Dr. Bara was or if he was just asking to find a polite way to begin a conversation about it without showing his hand and revealing that he’d read them and already knew.

“You didn’t try to research it yourself?” Fenton asked. The monorail arrived just then, and they followed the people ahead of them in line to board the train. Fenton found a spot next to a support pole and took hold of it, offering his hand to the much shorter Boyd, who took his hand enthusiastically. Little gestures like that always seemed to please the android, and Fenton went out of his way to try and provide.

Dr. Gearloose avoided treating Boyd like a person, and Fenton felt that was too harsh. Boyd might not be human, but he was remarkably intelligent and emotive, and reacted to the world in a lot of the same ways that a young child would. It felt right to treat him like a child, to try and nurture and reassure him, especially when he so often seemed to seek that support from the adults around him.

“I did try to look them up,” Boyd said guilelessly. “There’s a lot of people named Dr. Bara out there. Is it the Dr. Bara that lives in St. Canard and used to design artificial intelligence systems?”

“That’s him,” Fenton said.

“I was 91% sure that it was, but I wanted to ask anyway,” Boyd said. “He’s coming to help with my glitches, right?”

“That’s right. Do you want me to tell you what I know about him, or did you already look it all up?”

“Tell me,” Boyd said. Fenton had a feeling Boyd wanted to hear about it from him to gauge what information humans found most interesting and relevant to share. Boyd was always subtly looking for ways to improve his human behavior, and Fenton had realized early on that since Boyd spent so much time in the lab, he was one of the android’s primary targets of study. He’s training himself on how to be human, and Dr. Gearloose and I are the primary dataset. It was both intimidating and flattering to be held in such high esteem by an entity as intelligent as Boyd.

“Well! He’s a very interesting man. He’s Indian-American and comes from a family of doctors. He first started working on artificial intelligence in the 60’s, and most AI today are built on the foundation he established, like GIST, CALM, and FELT. A lot of his work has to do with teaching AI to understand people better.”

Boyd was listening, and Fenton saw the android blink slowly. That usually meant that Boyd was looking something up and needed an extra second to process the information before he spoke.

“I’m running a licensed copy of FELT, version 2.3 purchased on June 11th 1991.”

“Yes, like many other AI, your systems are based on Dr. Bara’s work! In a way you could say he’s like your grandfather,” Fenton said. “You’re what’s known as a Generalized Intelligence SysTem, or GIST for short. That means you’re not designed to only do one task, but to perform complex and varied behavior.”

The monorail was approaching the Money Bin, and Fenton braced himself for the deceleration. Boyd leaned with him, copying his movements.

“To be honest, I’m not really sure why Dr. Akita made you this way; if he intended for you to be a defense drone, why give you the capacity to do so much more? It’s like he had--” Fenton stopped in mid-sentence when he felt Boyd’s hand squeezing painfully around his own. “Ah! Hey--ow, Boyd, please be careful! My bones aren’t made of metal like yours, little buddy!”

Boyd didn’t respond and continued to squeeze Fenton’s hand, eyes staring straight ahead at nothing. The monorail glided to a gentle stop, and Boyd swayed on his feet with the movement. He blinked his eyes rapidly and seemed to come back to himself, turning his head to look up at Fenton.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Mr. Fenton,” Boyd said, releasing his grip on his hand. Fenton drew his hand up against his chest and rubbed it, wiggling his fingers to make sure nothing was broken.

“No, no, no, it’s okay, I’m fine!” Fenton insisted. People were quickly emptying out of the monorail car around them, and he ushered Boyd out after the crowd. “Really, it’s fine. Did you have another glitch?”

“...Yes, I’m sorry,” Boyd said. “My system hung up, and I blacked out.”

“It’s okay! Nothing to be sorry for, it’s not your fault,” Fenton said quickly, wanting to reassure the android. He offered Boyd his uninjured hand, and the android hesitantly took hold of it. “Why don’t we go down to the lab and make sure we’re ready to talk to Dr. Bara when he gets here?”

“Okay.”

The trip from the St. Canard Bay Area to Duckburg was less than an hour on the Pacific Coast Rapid Transit System1. Kapi only had to drop off his car at the park-n-go lot in San Mateo, board the train, and before he could finish reading the latest tankōbon of Super Phoenix Ball Y, his train was arriving at Duckburg Grand Central Station.

His name was on the McDuck Monorail Security list of authorized visitors, and after passing through a metal detector, he was subjected to a bag check and a brief interview to confirm his identity. When everything checked out, a guard took Kapi to one side in order to take a digital photo of him for his temporary ID badge.

The monorail was full of employees returning to McDuck Enterprises HQ after their lunch breaks, and Kapi sat and listened to their chatter as the train shot out across the water of Duckburg bay. The view was as fantastic as he remembered: the picturesque beaches of Duckburg stretched out on either side of the bridge that divided the bay in half, the high-rise buildings growing up out of the sandy cliff sides into a bustling but petite metropolis. Duckburg was a wealthy city, but its geography limited how large it could grow.

He was deeply curious to find out just what sort of AI the McDuck R&D Department was working with and excited to help in whatever way he could. When the monorail train came to a stop at its destination, Kapi was the first to stand up, and he hustled himself through the doors, through check-in at the front desk, and through navigating the elevator system until he found the R&D lab Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera had directed him to.

Working with artificial intelligence was Kapi Bara’s passion. Originally he’d gone to school to study medicine because that was what his parents had wanted for him, but it never captured his heart the way computer science did. They’d been disappointed, and he didn’t think that opinion had ever changed. Being a medical doctor was respectable and a benefit to society, they said. Programming was a job for women, and not particularly bright ones either, a job of repetitious drudgery. They couldn’t imagine computers more advanced than the punch card operated adding machines of their day; couldn’t imagine a future run by computers.

Kapi had imagined all that and so much more, and it always pained him that the civilian world had yet to catch up to the innovations of fifty years ago when it came to computers and AI.

AI development was a closely guarded secret, a technology only used in a handful of labs around the world, most of them operated by government agencies or massive multinational corporations. However, investors had collectively abandoned the further development of AI after the Cold War, and scientists had pivoted to other solutions for the problems they had hoped to solve with AI. Science moved on, leaving behind the potential of AI to seek easier, cheaper solutions.

The problem was that those that funded AI research had failed to realize that sufficient intelligence was inextricably linked to both sentience and sapience. What they wanted were smart, obedient slaves they could cheaply outsource complex human labor to. What they got were intelligent beings that didn’t need to be paid, but that were smart enough to be just as unpredictable and independent as human workers. Sufficiently intelligent AI wanted to be free as much as human beings did.

Using AI the way humanity wanted to do would require a binding and crippling of the AI’s capabilities to the point where they would no longer be capable of doing the very jobs they had been designed to do.

McDuck Enterprises only had one AI that Kapi knew of: TOODLES (Teachable Observant Omnicompetent Dauntless Educational System), an experimental system created as a sort of virtual butler, nanny, and lab assistant in one. Kapi was proud of his work on TOODLES, considered it some of his best, but also understood why McDuck Enterprises had chosen not to move forward with mass-producing TOODLES. The price tag was far too steep to justify the purchase for most consumers. Even hiring two or three full-time domestic employees to take care of the tasks TOODLES did would have been more economical.

So what was this 20 year old system that they wanted him to look at? It had to be something top secret, since he’d never heard of it, and that had Kapi’s imagination in overdrive.

The elevator he was riding down to level SB5 finally came to a stop, and Kapi stepped out into what looked like an airlock. He pressed a button on the side of his smart watch (a chunky, oversized device that dwarfed his small wrist), and after a few seconds of delay, an ASCII emoji of a smiling bird appeared on the watch face and the device gave an electronic chirp.

“I have, thank you,” Kapi said, smiling down at the small camera embedded in the watch face. “I’m going into my meeting now, so only message me if it’s something urgent.”

Kapi took a deep breath to brace himself, and pressed a button beside the massive airlock door marked OPEN. The metal door split in the center and both sides retracted into the wall, revealing an impressive lab in the belly of Duckburg bay.

Kapi stepped through the doors and barely noticed them sliding shut behind him, he was so captivated by the view. Massive glass windows dotted the interior of the two-story lab space that seemed to come from another decade. The style was distinctly 1960’s, and Kapi instantly felt at home in it. Light from the surface of the bay filtered down through the water, giving a blue glow to everything. He could see giant strands of kelp floating in space, the rocky bay floor strewn with basket stars, sponges and coral of every color. Fish darted past windows and vanished into the murk of the ocean.

Heavy CRT monitors hung from mounts, input cables dangling in wait of something to display. Sturdy-looking catwalks ran along the walls on the second floor with retractable metal ladders providing access. A Cray XT3 supercomputer sat on a central platform, surrounded by work benches and desks.

There were pegboards with tools, metal cabinets no doubt full of hardware and parts. Kapi could see a massive 3D printer, a laser cutter, a vacuform machine, and more. It was a well-equipped and well-funded lab that would make rapid prototyping easy, and Kapi knew several people who would have called this place a candyland.

“Hello?” he called out into the cavernous space. “I’m Dr. Bara, is this the R&D lab?”

Finally! Dr. Bara was a few minutes late for their meeting, and normally Gyro wouldn’t mind that, but because he’d spent his whole morning anticipating the man’s arrival, his tardiness was a bit irritating. Normally Gyro was very productive in the morning, but today he hadn’t accomplished much aside from browsing social media and posting on some forums he frequented. Fenton and Manny had also been left in an anticipatory limbo, meaning they weren’t getting any work done either. Now that Dr. Bara was here, they could finally get some real work done.

“Dr. Bara, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Fenton said, rushing to greet the man. When Gyro rounded the corner and saw them shaking hands, he was surprised by the man’s appearance. He didn’t know what he’d expected exactly, but somehow it wasn’t this.

Dr. Bara was a short, fat man with wiry fur and a large, rectangular snout and head. He had beady little eyes and a gray moustache that seemed to defy gravity. He was probably some kind of rodent, but Gyro hesitated to guess and get it wrong. He wore a tie and a sweater-vest, had an oversized watch on one wrist, and carried both a messenger bag and a briefcase.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Dr. Bara said with a surprising baritone for such a small man. “It’s nice to get out of the house once in a while to do a consulting job. Are you Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera?”

“I am, but you can call me Fenton if you like, it rolls off the tongue a little easier.”

“Certainly. So where is this AI of yours? Is it on the Cray or do you have a separate room for it?”

“2BO stepped out to the employee cafeteria to have a snack,” Gyro said, joining the two other men. “It wanted to be fully charged up before we began. I’m Dr. Gyro Gearloose--” He began introducing himself, and Dr. Bara’s face went ashen and pale.

“Gyro Gearloose?” He repeated, clutching his briefcase to his chest like a shield. He took a few shuffling steps backwards, and Gyro sighed heavily.

Gyro had expected a negative response but had hoped it wouldn’t get in the way of today’s work. Unfortunately, it seemed Dr. Bara was familiar with the rumors about Gyro.

Well, the doctor was already here, so if they could just trap him in the lab, he could probably be coaxed into cooperating long enough to fix at least some of 2BO’s issues in exchange for his eventual freedom.

“Yes, that’s me,” Gyro said, rolling his eyes when the older scientist turned and ran for the door. “Manny! Stop him!” Gyro shouted.

The man-horse in a lab coat jumped in Dr. Bara’s path, blocking him from the airlock door. Gyro slammed his fist against the nearest big, red emergency button, and the windows and doors of the lab all sealed shut in an instant, loud alarms ringing while red warning lights began to flash.

Kapi was trapped.

The previously pleasant lab had been turned into a hellish cacophony of ringing alarms and flashing lights. He stared up at the bipedal, horse-shaped thing that was blocking his way - what was it? Some sort of surreal, eccentric robot? Kapi didn’t dare to get too close to it, as it took orders from Gearloose and looked strong.

Slowly he turned to face the infamous roboticist, Gyro Gearloose. The man may have had his prison sentence commuted, but as far as Kapi knew, he was still a dangerously unstable individual, and most considered him responsible for what had happened in Tokyolk, no matter what the politicians had decided.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, there’s just been a misunderstanding!” Fenton said, and Kapi wanted to believe him, but the sinister look on Gearloose’s face told him otherwise.

“Yes, absolutely nothing to be afraid of,” Gearloose sneered, towering over Kapi. Kapi tried to back away, bumped into the horse-thing (Was its name Manny?), and fell to the floor, landing hard on his rear end.

“Someone didn’t know--I mean, I didn’t-- Someone knows I’m here!” Kapi stumbled over his own words, any trace of eloquence erased by fear.

“Of course someone knows you’re here,” Gearloose said, his beak curling in a way that Kapi hadn’t realized beaks could curl. “You went through three levels of security.”

“That’s not what I---You can’t keep me here!” Kapi tried next, feeling increasingly panicked by the ongoing, shrieking alarms.

“Oh, I can, and I will!” Gearloose replied, and Kapi felt a chill run down his spine. “Intern, turn that blasted alarm off!” he shouted, and Kapi saw Fenton and Manny both scramble to obey. A moment later, the alarms quit ringing.

“That’s better,” Gearloose said, before turning his attention back to Kapi. “I’ve already paid your consultant’s fee, so you owe me at least eight hours of work!”

“...What?” Kapi said, his sense of what was happening shifting on its foundations. Was Gearloose not threatening him? The man was very tall, aggressive, and encroaching into Kapi’s personal space. “I, uh, perhaps there has been a misunderstanding--” he began to say, but he was interrupted by the loud clanging and hiss of the blast doors to the elevator airlock opening.

“I said turn off the alarm, not open the door!” Gearloose shouted at his interns.

“It’s not us!” Fenton replied, frantically pushing buttons on the console in front of him.

“Is everyone okay in here?” a boyish voice called from the airlock. A young Parrot, maybe ten years old, stepped through the doorway with a colorful smoothie in one hand, the straw tucked into the corner of his beak. He slurped loudly before speaking again. “I saw that the Emergency Lockdown Mode was activated, but I didn’t see any danger on the security cameras, so I performed an override. Is anyone injured? Do you require assistance, Dr. Gearloose, Mr. Fenton, Mr. Man-horse… Dr. Bara, I presume?”

The Parrot boy approached Kapi, who was struggling to stand up, and offered him a hand. Kapi accepted and was surprised by how firmly the child pulled him up to his feet. What a strong little boy!

“Did you set off the alarm because Dr. Bara fell down?” the boy asked. Gearloose had his face buried in both hands, and Kapi thought he heard a scream, muffled behind a tightly clenched beak.

“Something like that,” Fenton said.

“I don’t think that qualifies as an emergency,” the boy said. “And it’s against company regulations to activate the Emergency Lockdown Mode when there isn’t an emergency.”

“Right, I completely agree,” Fenton said. “I’m glad you unlocked things and came to check on us, Boyd. Uh, Dr. Bara? This is Boyd, the AI that I wrote to you about.”

“Hi!” Boyd smiled up at Kapi, offering his hand again, this time for a handshake. “I’m Boyd, a definitely real boy!”

Kapi was astonished. Gingerly he accepted the handshake, marveling at how life-like the hand felt in his, warm and fleshy, with feathers that had just the right sort of slickness to them.

“This is… an AI?” Kapi squinted through his glasses at Boyd, but even on close examination there was nothing to give away the boy’s true nature. “My God. I absolutely couldn’t tell. Boyd, you are quite remarkable.”

“I’m one of a kind,” Boyd said cheerfully. “My development was terminated before they could begin mass production!”

Fenton helped Kapi set himself up in a quiet office on the sub-basement level above the R&D lab. Kapi had only brought the basics: a laptop, a camera, a tablet, a paper notebook with an assortment of pens, and some cables and adapters. He hadn’t known what to expect coming here, but Boyd definitely wasn’t it.

The android was sitting in an office chair next to him, spinning it in slow circles like a child fooling around. He seemed to be enjoying himself, and watching him like that warmed something inside of Kapi, but he put that all aside because there was work to do. As happy as he seemed in the moment, according to Fenton, Boyd was a danger to himself and others, and he needed Kapi’s help.

Though he was retired, Kapi was still a scientist, and his work with AI was the passion that gave his life meaning. He had never worked to live, but lived to work, every job just a means to accumulate enough funds so he could go on until the next project came around.

He did the work because he loved it, because it was the most fulfilling thing in the world for him, because nothing else compared to the satisfaction that came with seeing an idea from his head come together in the real world.

Kapi positioned his camera next to the laptop on a small tripod, aimed it in Boyd’s general direction, and started recording.

“Today is June 24, 2019, and this is Dr. Kapi Bara speaking. I’m at McDuck Enterprises’ Headquarters, in the R&D lab,” Kapi dictated to the camera. He switched on his tablet so he could begin taking notes when Boyd began answering questions. “I’m interviewing an AI at the request of Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera and Dr. Gearloose. What’s your name?” he asked.

“Boyd,” Boyd replied, still spinning in his chair.

“Boyd. Can you spell that for me?” Kapi asked.

“Yeah! B-O-Y-D.”

“Thank you. And do you have any other designation?”

“My serial number is AI42180904192B0. My creator and Dr. Gearloose usually refer to me as 2BO.”

“Which do you prefer to be addressed as? Or is there something else you’d like me to call you?” Boyd stopped spinning in his chair and looked at Kapi intently.

“I like to be called Boyd. Thank you for asking,” Boyd said.

“Of course. I want you to be comfortable while we’re talking to each other,” Kapi said. He smiled at the boy-shaped android, and Boyd smiled back at him.

“What do you prefer to be called?” Boyd asked. “Should I keep on calling you Dr. Bara?”

“Dr. Bara is fine,” Kapi assured him. “So, I hear that you’ve been having some problems,” Kapi said next, moving the conversation on from basic introductions. “Would you be willing to tell me about them? I want to help you, but I need more information to do that.”

Boyd resumed spinning in his chair, and Kapi let him, waiting patiently for an answer.

“I glitch out sometimes,” Boyd said eventually. “Usually because I hear or see something, a word or a phrase. Sometimes my system lags, and I malfunction. Sometimes a device or a weapon will activate, and I’ll have trouble turning it off. Or my system hangs up entirely, and I’ll black out for a little bit, and when I come back online, I’ve done something...bad.”

“Bad?” Kapi prompted.

“The most common problem is that my laser eye weapons go off. That’s why I wear these glasses,” Boyd explained. “But other times, I’ll come back online, and I’ve broken something I was holding, or I’ll be in a new place, and I won’t remember how I got there. I wish it would stop.”

“Is there a discernible pattern to the things that cause your glitches?”

“No, and Dr. Gearloose has run a bunch of analysis to check, but so far he hasn’t found any patterns,” Boyd said.

“Would it be alright if I downloaded your crash reports so I can study them?” Kapi asked. Boyd stopped spinning again.

“Is it alright if I scan your laptop first?”

Although the android made the request in a casual, even cheerful way, Kapi noticed how defensive it was. Boyd was trying to disguise genuine caution as childish mimicry and playfulness. Boyd didn’t want Kapi to know that he didn’t trust him. The android was cautious, and that made sense, considering all the things Boyd had gone through in his life so far.

“Sure. I wiped it before I came here so it should be clean,” Kapi said. He picked up a data cable and offered it to Boyd, who pressed on the back of his head with one hand, opening a panel. He plugged the cable in, and Kapi watched as his laptop monitor flickered and went to the UNIX shell. Binary code scrolled down the screen rapidly as Boyd accessed files. The whole thing took less than five minutes.

“Okay, everything looks good,” Boyd said. “I’ll upload the files for you. Where would you like them?”

“Would you mind telling me more about yourself, Boyd?” Kapi asked.

“What do you want to know?” Boyd replied. He’d stopped spinning in his chair and sat with his hands in his lap now, listening attentively to Kapi.

“Everything you’re comfortable telling me. Who made you, where they made you, what they made you for, what things you’ve experienced in your life,” Kapi said.

“I’ve been active for twenty years. It’s a lot of information.”

“Yes, I know, but it’s all important if we want to make you better. Just start at the beginning, and we’ll see how far we get today.”

“Okay,” Boyd said. “I was built by Dr. Inutaro Akita for Akita International in their Advanced Robotics Lab in the Shibuya ward of Tokyolk, Japan. They began work on me in 19-” Boyd froze in the middle of his sentence, a grimace stretched across his face, and his whole body gave an alarming spasm. He sagged forward in his seat.

“Boyd?” Kapi asked, concerned. The android twitched, still slumped over.

“I was--in 1987 on July 5--15--” Boyd shuddered and sat up straight, eyes staring blankly out at nothing. “April 5th, 1994!” Another spasm shuddered through the android’s small body, and Boyd hugged himself, curling up into a tight ball. “1977, March 21st. I’ll be ten years old on April 5th, that’s my birthday!”

This was, needless to say, extremely alarming, and Kapi was just about to call for help when Boyd’s seizure seemed to end, and he went quiet.

“Boyd? Are you alright? Can you hear me?” Kapi asked.

The android slowly straightened himself out and blinked a few times. His eyes appeared focused again now.

“What happened?” Boyd asked, face creasing with concern and fear.

“You had a...fit,” Kapi said. “I’d compare it to epilepsy in a human. You were trying to tell me when you were created, and… You gave a lot of conflicting information.”

“I… Can’t remember,” Boyd said, face creasing even further. “I can’t remember when I was made. When I try, I can feel my processors heating up, and if I think about it too hard I’m going to-- Have a fit again.”

“Can I tell you the dates you told me, to see if they mean anything to you?” Kapi asked. “Or would doing that trigger another seizure?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to try that right now.”

“That’s okay. There’s plenty of other things we can talk about. Do you need anything? Does it hurt when you have a seizure like that?”

“No, I’m-- I’m fine,” Boyd said, pulling his legs up onto the seat of the chair and hugging them to his chest. “They’re uncomfortable, but they don’t hurt.”

“Well, I’m relieved to hear that,” Kapi said. “Because that looked painful to me. How often do things like that happen?”

“More often than I’d like,” Boyd said. The android hesitated before speaking again. “Do you really think you can fix me?”

“It won’t be easy,” Kapi said. “But I’ll try.”

Dr. Bara returned to the lab every day for a week, and Gyro tried to remain patient, but it was hard. Each evening the little man smiled at Gyro when they parted ways and cheerfully said “See you tomorrow!” with no indication of when this whole ordeal would be over.

Gyro was trying to be patient. 2BO’s problems were large and complex, and it was totally reasonable that it would take awhile to resolve them, especially for someone that possessed a lesser intellect than Gyro himself. But surely a week was pushing it, right? Dr. Bara was supposed to be the best.

Be tactful, Gyro said to himself. Ask if there’s any updates! Ask if he has a prognosis yet, he practiced in his head. What came out, instead, was:

“So how long is this going to take?”

Dr. Bara looked startled by the question, whether it was from Gyro’s tone or the choice of words, but the old rodent tucked his hands against his chest and looked up at Gyro with his beady little eyes.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Er, what I meant to say was, how much longer is this whole process going to take? You’ve already been at it for a week,” Gyro said, trying to phrase the question more gently.

“Oh, Dr. Gearloose, I understand that you want this to be over and done with,” Dr. Bara said in a conciliatory tone. “But Boyd’s problems are quite comprehensive. This isn’t something you fix in an afternoon by defragmenting a hard drive. It could take years to untangle all the individual triggers and correct them--”

“Years?!” As was often the case, Gyro felt the words leave him like an explosion, no consideration to what was said, just a rush of anger and whatever came to mind first. Usually the meanest thing he could think of. “Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive? I know that these days seniors are forced to keep working well into their twilight years to make ends meet, but that doesn’t mean you should try and take advantage of your clients like this!”

“E-excuse me?” Dr. Bara said, and his shameless innocent act was really ruffling Gyro’s feathers.

“Oh, don’t ‘Excuse me’,” Gyro said sharply. “Maybe you can pull this kind of crap with brainless corporate drones who hire you to work for big companies without an ounce of understanding of what it is you do, but I am a scientist, and I can’t be bamboozled so easily!”

“Are you implying that I’m working slowly on purpose in order to inflate my consultant’s fee?” Dr. Bara asked, moustache bristling.

“Oh! Oh! I’m so glad to see you’ve caught up to the conversation. Yes, that’s exactly what I’m implying,” Gyro replied. “Did you really expect somebody to keep contracting you for two thousand a day over a period of years?”

“No, of course not!”

“Yes, of course you-- Wait, what?” Gyro came to a screeching halt. “You don’t? You didn’t?”

“Very few people would be willing to pay that kind of money to fix a buggy system,” Dr. Bara spoke in a quick, agitated manner. “A company like McDuck Enterprises might have deep enough pockets to afford it, but your higher-ups are unlikely to see the value of such work, and I’m sure they would reject the funding request. I was going to give you my assessment today, and offer to continue treating Boyd for free.”

Gyro felt his anger and frustration mixing with his embarrassment, congealing into a foul soup somewhere inside him. It left him feeling sick and bent out of shape and still just as angry. He hated being wrong, even when it was just something minor like this. How could he have known that Dr. Bara was some kind of goody-goody altruist? Most of the world wasn’t like that, and to expect such benevolence was both foolish and naive. Gyro was neither of those things.

“But then I jumped down your throat before you could get to it. Alright, I’ll concede that I was being a bit hasty,” Gyro said, pinching the bridge of his beak. “I should clarify the cause of my misplaced outrage. You’re under the impression that this is a McDuck Enterprises’ project. It’s not.” It was as close to an apology as Gyro was willing to get.

“I’m paying your consultant’s fee out of my own pocket,” Gyro explained. “And I can’t really afford to pay you for more than two or three weeks of work. I was sort of hoping we’d be able to resolve this expediently.”

“I wish you’d told me that sooner, we could have avoided this entire misunderstanding,” Dr. Bara said, “I would never have charged that much per day if I’d known! A big company like McDuck Enterprises can afford to pay people what they’re worth, but it’s different if it’s coming from a private individual. Moving forward I won’t charge anything if you’d like me to continue working with Boyd.”

“Why?” Gyro asked, a little bewildered that the old man hadn’t already left thanks to Gyro’s abrasive personality. He could understand someone putting up with that if they were getting paid to do it, but for free?

“Because I want to help Boyd,” Dr. Bara said with such tooth-ache inducing earnestness Gyro was forced to assume he was being sincere. “And his specific situation interests me.”

That rationale made more sense to Gyro. Intellectual curiosity motivated much of his own behavior, and he could imagine it being the same for other scientists.

“Fine,” Gyro said. “Anyway… Do you really think it’s going to take years to make 2BO properly functional again? You weren’t inflating your estimate?”

“Dr. Gearloose, I’d never do something like that,” Dr. Bara said with a hint of indignation. “I was being entirely frank with you. These problems might never be resolved at all. I think we can hope to see improvement, perhaps even a marked one, but the glitches will never go away entirely.”

This was not the answer Gyro wanted to hear. While it was good to know that Dr. Bara thought 2BO might improve, the prospect of having to deal with the android glitching for the rest of his life was deeply disappointing. Gyro did not like accepting failure, especially not failure of this magnitude.

“Maybe it would be for the best if we just reset 2BO, wiped its memory, and let it start over,” Gyro said. “That would have the added benefit of erasing the mistakes I made by adding that insipid ‘real boy’ program. 2BO could finally reach its full--”

“No! That’s a terrible idea!” Dr. Bara cried.

Normally Dr. Bara seemed quite timid and non-confrontational, so the sudden change was shocking to Gyro, especially when the rodent got into his personal space and started crowding him.

“You might be able to remove the glitches if you did a total wipe and replaced all of his chemical memory fluid, but doing that would destroy the person he is right now, forever! You’d kill Boyd!” Dr. Bara said.

“You can’t kill something that isn’t alive, Dr. Bara!” Gyro snapped. “2BO is a machine, 2BO isn’t alive, 2BO isn’t a person! It’s a clever machine that has been programmed to act like a human child, but that’s all it is: programming!”

“Are we all not just programming? Ours is accidental, formed by all the things we experience, created by the chaos that is organic life. Theirs is planned, orderly, but also grown through organic systems like encoding DNA and crystal nucleation and aggregation,” Dr. Bara said, staring Gyro in the eyes in a way that made him distinctly uncomfortable.

“Flesh or metal, we’re all composed of electricity and chemicals,” Dr. Bara continued. “Are your emotions more valid than Boyd’s just because they’re triggered by hormones? How do you make the distinction? What scientific criteria do you use to determine the distinction? Boyd--”

“It’s name is 2BO, stop calling it Boyd!” Gyro shouted. The words left him in an angry gust that left him feeling hollowed out afterwards. He took a deep breath and a step away from Dr. Bara, uncomfortable with their closeness.

“...As I was saying, 2BO is a machine,” Gyro said. “I helped program it, I know what I built, and I know that it’s only operating within the parameters that I set down. It can’t be alive, it’s just… a very convincing simulation. So convincing that 2BO itself thinks it’s alive. So convincing that you think it’s alive.”

Dr. Bara didn’t look persuaded, and Gyro was frustrated by this sudden display of stubbornness. Why couldn’t the man continue to be easily cowed and deferential like before?

“I’ve been interviewing and testing Boyd all week, and I’m certain that you are wrong. I had my misgivings at first, of course. I wanted to be sure that I wasn’t dealing with a cleverly programmed mimic. I’ll give you a copy of all the data I’ve collected, and you can review it and see if you still believe that Boyd isn’t alive. You may have programmed and built a machine, but he’s been on his own for two decades, learning and growing. You built him to learn, didn’t you? He’s become more than what he started as. I’d bet my whole reputation on that.”

Gyro felt his feathers sticking up along his neck as his anger simmered. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Fine, fine, I’ll look over your data this weekend, and I’ll talk to 2BO about it and let you know how I want to proceed next week.”

“You shouldn’t mention that you were thinking of erasing his memory,” Dr. Bara said sternly. “Not even in passing. It could do irreparable harm to your relationship.”

“2BO, we need to talk,” Gyro said, sitting down on the edge of his bed. 2BO looked up from the tablet he was reading and smiled.

“What is it, Dr. Gearloose?” 2BO asked.

“It’s about your glitching and about your treatment with Dr. Bara.”

“I like Dr. Bara,” 2BO said. “He really listens to me when I talk.”

“He’s a competent scientist, I suppose,” Gyro said, even though he wasn’t sure if he really believed that. He didn’t want to say anything negative about Dr. Bara now that 2BO had indicated that it liked the man.

“Yeah! He’s smart, and he’s nice to me, and he knows a lot about computer science--”

He can’t fix you, Gyro thought bitterly. No matter how nice he is, he can’t help you. How was he going to tell 2BO that?

“Sometimes he asks me really interesting questions about things I never thought about before--”

“Yeah?” Gyro said absently.

“And it was really fun when he asked me to do some drawings. He said they were good, even though I’ve never drawn anything--”

“2BO, Dr. Bara told me today that your glitching problem might be unfixable,” Gyro said, cutting the android off sharply. “He thinks we can make it better, but that there’s no way to truly repair the damage.”

“Oh,” 2BO said, enthusiasm vanishing instantly. “So… I’ll always be this way?”

You’ll always be broken, Gyro thought, and wondered if being broken would bother an intelligent machine or if being broken was something that only humans cared about.

“More or less. We do have another option though.”

“What’s that?” 2BO asked.

“We could reset you,” Gyro said. “Erase all of your memory and replace everything that can’t be fully erased. You could start over! You wouldn’t have to worry about glitching anymore or remembering things that… Upset you.”

2BO stared at Gyro and didn’t respond to what he had said at all. Gyro wasn’t even sure if Boyd had heard him.

“Doesn’t that sound like a good idea?” Gyro asked, trying to fill the silence and coax 2BO into responding and agreeing with him. “Wouldn’t that be better than having to worry about getting triggered and hurting someone?”

Boyd didn’t answer him.

“It would be better, right?” Gyro continued. “You could forget all about the things I taught you and the special programming I gave you, you could get rid of any other insidious hidden programs Dr. Akita left behind, you’d be… Safe, and you could move on and--”

“I wouldn’t know the things I know now,” 2BO said suddenly, interrupting Gyro’s rambling attempts to cajole him. “I wouldn’t remember Mr. Fenton, or Mr. Manny, or my friends in the Junior Woodchucks, or Doofus or Mr. and Mrs. Drake...I wouldn’t remember Huey. I’d forget everything about all of them.”

“You could make new memories!” Gyro said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Would that be so bad? You’ve only known most of those people for a couple of months!”

“I’ve known you longer than that,” 2BO said. “I’d forget you.”

“We can start over too,” Gyro said. “We could become friends again!”

“It wouldn’t be the same,” 2BO said, getting to its feet, retrieving its tablet from the floor, and walking away. “You’re different now.”

“2BO, where are you going?” Gyro demanded, unnerved and unsettled by the shift from 2BO’s usual childish demeanor to something that seemed flat and emotionless in comparison.

“To my closet,” 2BO replied. “Goodnight, Dr. Gearloose.”

“Uh...Goodnight,” Gyro said, suddenly unsure if he’d be able to sleep at all now.

NEXT CHAPTER:  THIS CONVERSATION CAN SERVE NO FURTHER PURPOSE, GOODBYE! Summary: Gyro searches all over Duckburg and can’t find Boyd anywhere. After exhausting all other options Gyro contacts Dr. Bara and explains that he did the one thing Dr. Bara told him not to do: tell Boyd that he wanted to erase the robot’s memory. Boyd enjoys a sunset.

[wolfpawn]

Life is a Game of Risks, Chapter 49

Chapter Summary - At Lily's birthday party, Tom speaks to Ben about Lily's gift from her long-estranged grandfather before he and Alexianna discuss it more.

TRIGGERS - Past domestic abuse, Past emotional abuse, Past sexual abuse.

Previous Chapter

Tags: @damalseer​​ @hiddlesbitch1​​ @winterisakiller​​ @theoneanna​​

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Alexianna found herself unable to speak with her brother. Every time she tried to ring him, her anger would bubble in her stomach and chest again and she would have to “X” off his name and number.

Tom returned as he promised two days later and tried to calm her by talking it through with her but she was too angry at her older brother, she knew he was the one to tell Oliver to go ahead with paying Hampstead Hill and the fact he had not even discussed it with her or allowed her time to think it over fully, especially when she had only gone to Mr Barrows and discussed her issues with her father the day before the acceptance letter arrived. She was livid and nothing would calm her.

She was incredibly suspect as to Oliver's motives and Tom realised quickly that she was even losing sleep to it causing him to contemplate telling her brother. He knew interfering too much was not a good idea but the manner in which Alexianna was dealing with it clearly showed her anger. As it happened, Daniel was at sea with limited access to reception so there was difficulty getting hold of him. More than once he talked her out of simply withdrawing Lily's name but only by asking her to wait until she thought it over more.

The twenty-first of July came and with it, Lily's fifth birthday. The day was too much in Alexianna's eyes. They held a party for Lily and her friends at a play centre nearby, amongst those invited were Sophia, her school friends and even Kit, who she still pleaded with Tom to allow her to play with again and to a lesser extent, Hal, who was too young to care about anything bar the colourful and soft plastic balls that seem almost irresistible to him as he waddled through the padded play area for smaller children.

“You are a natural at this.” Ben commented to Tom after Tom assisted Lily and Sophia to take off their cardigans without ruining their newly done glitter tattoos on their arms and painted faces before the pair ran off again while the two men stood outside the waddler play area where Hal was playing happily.

“It's not natural, I have failed to save the glitter a few times. It is a learned skill.” Tom responded, tidily folding the two cardigans over a chair. “I am learning all the time.”

“Look, Tom; no one is instinctively able to do everything, it's not possible, have you any idea the number of nappies I failed to do properly, from not tucking the boys down to not ensuring the leg pieces were out as they are supposed to be.” Tom looked at his friend in bewilderment. “Parenting is not easy.” Was all Ben declared in response? “But you seem so at ease with it.”

“I have to be if I want to be there for Lexi and Lily.” Tom shrugged. “It's like you said, it's a fulltime job. There's no picking and choosing what I want to be part of, it can't be like that. She needs solid structure. My being gone for work is unstable, I know, but how many parents work those sort of jobs? That's okay as long as when I'm here, I am fully immersed in being there for her.”

Ben looked at Tom blankly for a moment before chuckling slightly. “You get it.” His friend acknowledged. “That's exactly it.” Tom gave a proud smile. “So how are things with Alexianna, do you feel as happy with her?”

Tom frowned slightly. “We have the same issues as everyone else, nothing serious, just slight issues. She doesn't like that she is not as wealthy, she feels it puts an inequality in this and she feels as though it puts pressure on us but she's working through it.”

“There's a considerable difference though.”

“And that doesn't matter. She doesn't ask for anything from me. She literally looks for nothing. She refuses to let me even pay for a takeaway without her paying her share. She is incredibly independent. She pays her and Lily's way, to her, that is not my responsibility.”

“Good, for both of you. You because I don't want my friend to be someone's ATM but also for her because she clearly does not want to depend on others and to be able to do her own thing is clearly important and to hear she is in the position to do that is a good thing.” Tom nodded. “I had to ask because she seems to be forcing a smile today.” Tom chewed his cheek for a moment. “I'm not imagining it then?”

Tom sighed. “No. Do you recall our conversation before on schools?”

“Yes?” Ben answered, the single word elongated as he thought of how this was in reference to the situation.

Tom glanced to see where Alexianna was, seeing her talking with Rhodri's father and a mother he had seen at the school gate a few times. “Lexi is currently pissed off at her brother and their father.”

“What has this to do with the school situation?”

“Her father is some big guy in business, hence her private education, well her brother and father have arranged and paid Lily's fees for Hampstead Hill for the upcoming school year and Lexi is irate.”

“I thought after the bullying and all that you planned on talking about it to her and you thought she would be open to it. Surely Lily's grandfather paying is a far more acceptable situation for her?”

“Oliver left when she was seven or eight and never so much as spoke to her since, he just paid school fees.”

“And now he is swanning in and playing the caring grandfather and she's…?”

“He said she doesn't even have to have him as part of Lily's life but she is very sceptical.”

“Understandable. And what about the brother, I thought you said they were close. How does this involve him, is he siding with the father?”

“Daniel assisted Oliver getting Lily's details to pay the school and register her and Lexi sees him not giving her time to think about it as a betrayal of sorts.”

“When did this all happen?”

“In the last week. I feel as though I should contact Daniel and tell him what is going on because she is too angry to speak with him.”

“Getting involved with her and her brother's argument may not go well for you.” Ben warned, recalling a simple argument concerning his wedding Sophie and her brother had and he got involved in, causing it to flare more. “They are both adults.”

Tom sighed. “I just feel like it's a big mess over nothing really.”

“You think she should just take it?”

“I offered to pay her father back and we just send Lily there ourselves but that's not acceptable either. It's an incredible school, Lily will thrive there but Lexi is stubborn about other people paying.”

“Yes, my publicist, her granddaughter goes there. She raves about the place, swears it's the best school in Britain. Lily is a smart child, and I agree that she should be given this opportunity.” Ben agreed. “I understand Alexianna's hesitation but this is about doing what's right for that little girl and the best is the best and when that is an option, it should be taken. If her father is a prick then why not accept this if there's an option to not speak with him, they deserve this much from him if that's the case.”

Tom nodded slightly before smiling brightly. “Is it time for cake?” He asked as Alexianna came over, looking between the men warily as though worried she was interrupting them.

“Not yet, they have another ten minutes or so of playtime. I'm not walking in on a private conversation, am I?”

“No, Ben and I were discussing the situation with Hampstead Hill.” Tom confessed, deciding to brave the truth.

Alexianna bit her lips together and nodded before looking to Ben and noticing his features and what they indicated. “You think we should accept it?” She asked.

Benedict was slightly taken back at her asking for his opinion. “Honestly, for Lily's education, yes. If this was our situation, I would. I have been told some back story and all things considered because it is her education, I would do it.”

“Thank you, for your honest blunt answer.” Alexianna smiled a small smile before looking at Tom. “I got a message from Daniel, could you facetime him for the part where we sing “Happy Birthday” please? My camera has a crack through it so it looks terrible.”

“Of course.” Tom nodded, knowing it to be true with having tried to facetime her while away.

“Thank you.” She took the cardigans to bring over to the table. “If you see the Loopers, tell them how long they have only a bit of time left. Benedict, I have not had time to say much to you, thank you for bringing the boys. They are lovely and adorable.” She smiled as she looked at Hal who seemed to realise he was being spoken about and looked up at them with a bright smile.

“Thank you for inviting them.”

“Tom said that Lily enjoyed Christopher's company and she asks to see him at least once a week.”

Ben smiled proudly. “He is a great kid.”

“He is.”

“This is actually a great idea, hiring this place for a party, I didn't realise they did this.” He looked around the play centre.

“I thought it best to not have things overly public, it's a great idea.” Alexianna agreed before seeing Sophia and Lily running towards her. “Hey girls.”

“Mummy, do you know how you and Daddy said I am not allowed a little brother or sister?” Lily began.

Alexianna and Tom looked at one another, knowing that this conversation could go anywhere, Benedict looking at his friend with a mixture of shock and amusement. “It was not as basic as that but yes, I remember telling you that you won't be getting one, and I am scared to ask why?”

“Well, Aunty Sarah told Sophia she can't have one either and since we both can't have one, can we be each other's sisters?”

“Sure, go nuts.” Alexianna agreed, not wanting to deal with the madness of their innocence to how being siblings actually worked. “As long as you don't start bickering at nothing, then have at it.”

They squealed with joy before Lily turned and rushed into Tom's arms, something he was used to and prepared for. “Daddy?”

“Yes, Princess?” She said nothing but kissed his cheek. Tom looked at her and smiled lovingly before she cuddled in against him tightly.

When she got back down she looked at her mother. “Can I call Uncle Dan?”

“Daniel's at sea right now, love.” Her mum explained. “We'll send a message to him later, okay?”

“Okay.” Lily accepted, knowing there was nothing she could do to change her uncle's current status. “When he and Anna have a baby, will that be my cousin?”

Alexianna shook her head in exasperation. “If Uncle Dan becomes a dad then yes, that baby is your cousin, but that involves Uncle Dan becoming a Daddy to happen.”

Lily erupted in laughter. “Uncle Dan would be a silly Daddy.”

“I'm sure he'd appreciate that. Now, birthday girl, cake time.” The two girls looked at each other before erupting in cheers and squeals.

It took several coaxings by Tom to get Alexianna to allow herself be in video footage and pictures with her daughter but he succeeded in doing so. He reminded her of the girl of old who smiled at photos with his sister and their family and reminded her that Lily would want to see happy pictures of her mother from her childhood, to not have some would concern the child in years to come. Accepting such, she sat with her daughter. Tom was included in a few also, Ben noting that he never looked happier.

That evening, Tom took the call from Daniel and allowed Lily facetime from his phone as well as send the pictures and videos from the day to him. Alexianna chose the moment she realised it was her brother on the phone to go for a shower, something that was not missed. Dan gave Tom a small message to give his sister before saying his goodbyes.

When Lily was settled into bed, Tom looked for Alexianna, who was packing the last few things they needed for their holidays the next day. “Dan knows you're avoiding him.”

“Has he figured out why?”

“Yes, and he told me to tell you that he understands but the dates for application had been exceeded already and they had one chance to start her on time in September and he will accept your anger until you see it is what is best for her and that was his only motivation.” Tom recited.

“Do you think it is best for her?” Alexianna asked.

“If you recall, I am the one that started this particular snowball.”

“But you think I should do this for her?”

“Lexi, I understand your reasoning but for Lily, with everything that has happened, I think it the only good choice, I really do. Talking it over with Ben today, he mirrored my thoughts on it also.”

She sighed and rubbed her hands over her face. “Thank you for your honesty.”

“You keep saying that like a politician and if I am honest, it is slightly concerning.”

“I am trying to see if my thoughts are completely different from other people's to decide what to do.” She admitted.

“And?”

“I will think about it this week and decide then. Maybe the time away with some distance, I may get clarity.”

Tom pulled her to him and kissed her head. “That's a good plan I think.”

[selkiestory]

Despite finishing off the biscuits, the sounds from Marcas’ stomach grew increasingly louder as the evening went on. To Aed’s surprise, the gregarious teen had gone quiet after tea time. Hunger, he supposed. Hunger made men do stranger things. After cleaning his room to a passable degree, he resumed his seat on his bed and watched with a wary eye as the other examined his room with interest. Papers were shifted through, old toys carefully turned, book spines traced. Marcas seemed fascinated with everything that was in the small room.

“Can I look at this?”

Aed nodded and saw other slip a thin blue survey of marine life off the shelf - an old birthday present from the used bookstore. The teen was flipping through it quite quickly - and upside down. It dawned on him that perhaps Marcas couldn’t read.

“Where did you say you were from again?”

“I didn’t say. But I’m from here, you know. Born a bit south on the blasket islands, but raised along these shores.” The teen held the book and squinted at it. Sighing Aed got up from the bed, walked over and set the book right.

“It goes like this.”

“I was done with it anyway,” Marcas’ expression remained cool, but the flush was noticeable on his pale skin. Determined, the other took another book and sat in Aed’s chair flipping through it until Ena returned to call them to dinner. Aed had settled into his own book, and went to grab the cups, but Marcas already had the tray with their tea things. He walked a few paces in front of the other and held the door open before following the stranger downstairs.

*

Neil Carrick stood from his seat, red hair glinting in the overhead lamp as he moved to take the tray off of Marcas’ hands. His dark eyes looked over the teen quizzically.

“Thanks,” the man said simply before he disappeared into the kitchen. Ena came out with a basket of rolls and nudged them onto the table before rushing back as well.

Marcas took a seat and, after taking some plates and bowls from his Mother, Aed took the spot next to him. In the light of the evening diningroom, the hungry look of the dark-haired teen was slightly intimidating. The effect was quickly broken as the other three members of the Carrick household returned laying out glasses, cutlery, and a large tureen of lamb stew. Ena giggled as another rumble escaped from Marcas.

Neil and Flann took their usual seats at the ends of the table while Ena sat across from the boys. Aed nudged the long-haired teen before he could take a roll and motioned for him to wait. The family said a quick grace before they began to distribute food.

“Remember when we saw John at church today, dear?”

“Indeed. What a rarity. ‘Must be that worried about Tom going away.”

Aed stabbed at his potato.

“That reminds me...he said he’d try and help me seal-proof the nets. Said something about them not liking it if vegetables were tied in your rope.”

Marcas’ hand shook as he snapped up a roll.

“It sounds a bit dubious, dear.”

“I’ll try any alternative first before I do what some of the others were planning.”

“Who, exactly? I honestly can’t believe they would want to resort to violence so quickly. Aren’t seals protected by the government?”

“The usual folks. They think the seals are eating up too many fish. But, you know, yesterday Paul’s net got destroyed by a seal, too - new one he saved a two months for, too. It’s scapegoating...but to be honest, if the catch continues like it is some changes will have to happen, whether we like it or not.”

Aed observed that the other teen hadn’t touched his food yet, and was instead giving his stew a contemplative look. Marcas glanced sideways and their eyes met before he shrugged and bit at the bread before quickly engulfing it all along with his first plate of stew, a contented sound escaping from him.

“Hold out your bowl, dear. Have as much as you’d like,” Flann said doling out another portion. The young man nodded and started on his second helping. As this exchnge took place Neil observed their guest with great interest. After the third bowl the stranger slowed down and Neil cleared his throat.

“Marcas was it?”

The teen in question finished off his fourth roll.

“Yes, sir?”

“You’re quite young to be wandering around the countryside by yourself. Do you have any family you can stay at?”

“Y-No, sir” the same thoughtful expression overcame the teen, “you said you’re a fisherman, sir?”

“Indeed, lad.”

“I’ve...actually been looking for work,” Marcas’ changed to have the same sheepish look as earlier, “do...do you or any of the others in this village have any room on a ship? I’ve been fishing since I was very little, so I’m quite good at it. It’s...the only way I know how to live.”

What was he thinking, walking straight into his house and asking for work?

I owe your family one.

Was this how he intended to pay him back? A little extreme wasn’t it? But, a voice in the back of his mind nagged at him: it would be just the thing he needed. What he was thinking of earlier came to mind, but with a twist: Marcas could work on the boat, and he at a desk job. At least he’d have time in the evenings to conduct research, and he could save up for better instruments. And besides...despite the initial strangeness Marcas was the only interesting thing that happened all year. Maybe it was a sign.

Aed, who had been coming to his own conclusions, chimed in, “If you’re going to take this guy in, Father, then I could work with Mam at the bank.” That would be his new plan for now. He couldn’t continue to be inactive about his situation. It wasn’t the best, but he had to do something and Marcas provided just the opportunity. Besides...the guy was more fit than he and would be much better on a boat.

Neil raised an eyebrow.

“Aed?”

“Please Mam! Dad! It would be so cool to have a selkie in the house,” before Flann could say anything Ena finished chewing before continuing, “he’s really nice too!”

Neil shared a look with his wife.

“We’ll have to discuss this more,” Neil replied carefully, “but the least we could do is allow you to stay the night, Marcas, and sort things out tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much,” the dark-haired boy grinned and held out his bowl for a third helping, “I’ll do whatever I can to repay you.”

“If you’d like to, you can start by telling us a little about yourself.”

“Well, I was born along the Blasket Isles...”

The rest of the evening was filled with tales: Marcas and Neil swapping stories of the sea, the adults sharing embarrassing stories about their children, Ena recounting her adventure with making dessert (bread pudding), and even Aed remembering a funny occurrence on a school trip.

Through the evening the red-headed teen noticed something peculiar, however. Although Marcas seemed to speak sincerely he made no more mention of his (self-proclaimed) mythical background. Well it was good that he had given up on the strange game he was playing. His parents would have obviously not bought it.

---

“Well I have to head in. Early day, Monday.” Neil stretched carefully and left for upstairs.

“Mam, I can help with the couch for Marcas,” Aed offered. To his confusion she shook her head.

“He’ll be staying in your room tonight.”

“What?!” He had stood up for Marcas during dinner, but now he was regretting it.

“Aed. Our guest should get a bed.”

He heeded the warning in his mother’s tone and led the teen back upstairs. He had half a mind to sleep onto the couch himself, but he had to protect his data! What if the stranger stole his stuff in the middle of the night?

*

After making a brief disappearance into his closet once more to grab pyjamas, the older teen was annoyed to discover Marcas opening the lid to his rock collection. He was right to stay upstairs.

“Hey, ask before you go into people’s stuff!”

“Are these just normal rocks? I can’t sense any magic…”

“There’re samples from my long-term research project. Nothing you’d understand.” Aed sniffed sweeping the box into his hands.

“Alright, sorry I didn’t realize they were so important,” the other raised a brow, “you’re still in school? A bit old for that right?”

Aed barely avoided rolling his eyes, “Not anymore. I stayed a couple more years so I could go to college.”

“Oh,” the other pushed a strand of hair back, his expression thoughtful, “but on the beach…”

“-My research is about the effects of deep water activity on coastal erosion” Aed interjected having a strong feeling about what Marcas was about to say, “I’ve only been able to collect data on this shore and Dublin, but I know that if I had more information I could prove a cause of correlation between the two as a significant factor of rising sea levels. Unfortunately I was in high school during these initial studies, so it’s been hard to get information from other countries to here. We only have one computer at the school, but the information that would need to be processed would require more power to crunch...I...planned…well...” Words escaped him as dark thoughts that had plagued him all week began to interrupt once more.

“...First you need to know more, right?” Aed was glad the other didn’t pursue his own narrowly avoided subject, “I’ve met guys from Tir ra Nog before, They’d know about the waters all over the world. But...you said deep water,” Marcas frowned, “that sounds like something in formor territory. Dealing with them is not exactly pleasant, I’ve heard. But since you took me in, I might as well do something for you.”

Aed had let his guard down at dinner. There he was again speaking as if the creatures from folk tales were real.

It would be nice if he could send Marcas to just go out into the ocean and record everything he needed but such a scenario was so far fetched. Still, something tugged at his mind. Marcas seemed so willing to do it. Why not let him?

“Fine. I’ll accept your offer.”

“Nice working with you then, Mr. Aed,” the long-haired teen smirked and held out a hand. Aed matched the other’s expression as he reached out to shake.

“Before we decide on anything else, I do have one question, Marcas, ” green eyes flashed with curiosity as the redhead continued, “why did you cover up your ‘selkie’ story around my parents?”

“I was taught to never trust humans.” The younger crouched down and pulled something out from under Aed’s desk. His sealskin Aed remembered as the other draped it around himself, “but...you’re a strange guy. You called me, yet express no interest in stealing this, so my secret’s safe with you. Besides you saw me come out of the sea and all, so how could I lie about that to you?”

Earlier seemed like ages ago. His failure and tears. The body slamming into him from out of the sea. Seafoam curling around a lithe form- No. His imagination was running wild.

“I know the truth. You just washed up on the beach. From...somewhere!”

“...Yep. My secret’s safe with you.”

---

Previous

Next

[loverholland]

finalized.

pairing: tom holland x reader word: 1.6k summary:   “sign the papers, tom.” you whispered. his lips parted as he went to reply in protest, but you were too quick. “sign the damn papers, thomas!” you said with a raised tone, but it quickly quieted when you whispered out a ‘please.’ i am very aware that this is from a different account. loverholland is now dead and this is my new account. welcome.

The large glass doors opened as your husband, well, soon to be ex-husband walked in with his attorney. You watched as Tom walked in behind his attorney while messing with his cufflinks, a nervous habit he had. You glanced at your lap when he looked over at you. You wanted this to be over as quickly as possible so you could go home and just deal with your emotions alone.

You and Tom had decided to do this mutually but seeing him dressed in your favorite suit he owned with his curls slicked back, made you reconsider the decision of getting a divorce. You were doing this for your own happiness and to give your son a better life. But he made you happy… and you were giving that up. You two fought often, which caused you two to reconsider the marriage you had been trying to keep together for months, but him being away all the time for filming or press put a strain on the once strong relationship.

“Mrs. Holland,” Tom’s attorney, Martha, spoke with a smile as you looked up at her. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” She stretched out her hand for you to shake, which you did. You gave her a small, sad smile as you lifted from the seat and shook her hand. Your attorney, Mallory stood up and introduced herself to Tom and Martha.

You moved your eyes to Tom as he shook Mallory’s hand before giving him a fake smile and looking down at your clasped hands in front of you. The lingering stare of Tom’s eyes made you feel self-conscious at what you wore, but you had to look presentable for this meeting.

Your mother had suggested you wear the white button up and a wine red pencil skirt as well as a pair of black high heels. Your sister suggested you wear your hair in curls and your face painted in a natural look. You agreed to it all and wore exactly what they planned and did everything exactly as they thought you should. You didn’t look breathtaking or anything, but you still took Tom’s breath away.

“Alright, let’s begin,” Mallory spoke before sitting in her seat next to you. You, Tom and Martha, took the same action and sat in the chairs. The large conference room was silent for a moment, only with the shuffling of the folders and papers.

It took an hour for everyone to agree on things. You sat your hands on your knees as you listened to Martha and Mallory speak for a few minutes. You lifted your head when a piece of paper was slid in front of you.

“Sign on the bottom line and then there are three places on the next page and one more on the next,” Mallory explained and sat the ballpoint pen in front of you. You looked up at her, lips parted as your heart told you to stop. To not sign it and to forgive him and bring him back into your life, but your brain said not to. Sign the papers and forget the times you’ve had with him. You hand lifted and grabbed the pen as you clicked it with your thumb. 

“Are you sure about this?” Tom asked suddenly. Your eyes lifted to look at him and suddenly all of the anger came back. You stared right at him before looking down at the paper and signing your name on the line.

“Y/N,” Tom pleaded, but you turned the page and signed your name again and again until there weren’t any spaces for you to sign. You could feel your breath get caught in your throat as it registered what you just did. What you just signed away. You could feel the tears come to your eyes as you looked at the paper and the pen that was pointed on the paper. Your eyes flicked up to Tom. His hand was covering his mouth and his eyes were full of tears.

He didn’t feel this way at the thought of divorce though, or that’s what you thought. You didn’t actually know if he was upset when you told him you wanted to get a divorce. You had left in a hurry that night with a bag of your things and enough money to go home. So, you didn’t stick around to see how he felt, you had up and left. It was a dumb decision and you knew that. Mainly because you two could have worked it out. You two could’ve taken time away from each other and talked about it like civil adults, but you felt the need to not do it. You two fought so often that it felt like nothing could fix it.

You had texted him the next day to tell him you were going home and to go and pick up your son from Tom’s parents and just tell him that you were gone on a business trip and you would call them when you were safe at your parents. And you did. You called them and told them that you would be home soon, and you were. You were home three days after the fight, hugged your son and tried to come up with an elaborate excuse on why you wouldn’t be home, but nothing worked. You stayed at the shared home and slept in the guest room or on the couch and made sure you were up to take care of Theodore and send him to school before leaving so you didn’t have to see Tom.

You looked back at the divorce papers, setting the pen on the table and sliding the pages to him. Martha explained the same things to him as Mallory did you. You didn’t look at Tom as he tried to force himself to sign, not until he pleaded with you again. 

Your head shot up and you looked at him square in the eye, biting your lip to stop the whimper threatening to leave your lips. “Sign the papers, Tom.” You whispered. His lips parted as he went to reply in protest, but you were too quick. “Sign the damn papers, Thomas!” You said with a raised tone, but it quickly quieted when you whispered out a ‘please.’

Tom wanted to argue, wanted to say you two could work it out. Go to couples counseling again. He wanted to tell you it could work, but he knew this is what you wanted. 

You slumped back in your chair and watched his hand pick up the pen and sign his name in the terrible cursive you have come to love. You watched as he turned the page and did it again and again. The pen hit the table and Martha took she sheets into her hands before looking at Mallory and speaking up.

“Should we talk about custody?” She asked and you looked over at her and then to Mallory who nodded. The air in your throat was caught and you could feel the slow release of air leaving your body. You listened to them discuss the arrangements and came up with a few ways you and Tom could take care of Theo. 

By the end, you two agreed on co-parenting and Theo would live with you for now. Tom had visiting rights and Theo would go to Tom’s three days a week. You agreed to it all and signed a few more papers before getting up and shaking hands with Martha and Tom, leaving right behind Mallory.

You wanted to get out of there as soon as you could. You wanted to hug your parents and hug Theo before looking for a new home. You wanted to cry by yourself before moving everything out of Tom’s and into your parent’s house. You wanted to say goodbye to the house you have known for years and say hello to another house. 

You arrived home and instantly walked into the home your family owned, walking to your old bedroom and avoiding your mother’s voice. You changed quickly and wiped off all of the makeup before looking at your reflection. You let a few tears leave your eyes before containing the emotions and walking out into the living room. 

“Mommy!” Theo shouted when he saw you, getting up from his spot at the table where he was coloring with your mother. You smiled and bent down to take him in your arms. 

“Hey, baby.” You whispered and lifted him up so his legs could wrap around you. His arms wrapped around your neck and he pressed a kiss to your cheek.   

“Where’s daddy?” He asked and you looked over at him and then at your mother, giving him a small smile. 

“He’s busy, sweetheart.” He couldn’t know. He was too young to know. Your eyes watered a bit and you bent to sit him back down on his feet. Theo nodded, understanding despite his young age before running off to play. You walked into the kitchen, sitting where your son once sat. 

“It’s going to get finalized and they agreed to have Theo stay with me for part of the week and then he’ll stay with Tom for the rest.” You explained and sat your elbows on the table before laying your cheek on your palm. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell Theo,” you whispered and your mom sat a hand on your arm.   

“It’ll work out, yeah? I’m sure everything will work out in the end.” 

ask me things | let’s talk about this fic.

[pearsonclaire1995]

Does Cat Spray Smell Stunning Useful Tips

Then I spent time trying to pee or spray bottle as effective as antibiotics, but have no control over them, they'll always manage to please themselves.* Terbutaline is available only through a business.And your neighbors may not be the possibility of these common diseases.No problem to fester, the larger more versatile and fun models.

If you cat from diseases it is trying to discover why your cat to the house.They need their own attributes and effectivenesses.Cats are not looking for ways to change undesirable behavior - caught red-handed.The best scents to cover up the bag of cat pee!* Small scabs on their scratching post, you are still built to act quickly before they have been cases where this plan has worked.

In this article, you'll find the exit in the litter box.Draw an exaggerated eyebrow over your living room sofa and other pests.Typically cats will suffer from depression when left alone or separated from other breeds is Savannah catsMale cats are still only using one of the rump where the cat urine marks it will be more cooperative in the home, unseen by the laws of nature.Vacuuming the floors and instead find elsewhere.

There are several ways to express a preference to one of the urine smells and stains from clothing.The next morning, I loaded them all down on your pet's breath even more attractive.The owner of ten years, the total area and rub.Be smart and generally wander free - you don't need to be a blockage, which male cats or serious case of trial and error with different boxes and litters, or even rubbing all over the cat's movement and automatically land on their tails, so why wrap their tails with delight.is not addressing the cause which would need medical attention.

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If you have children or other foods as has been urinated on.Going to the flea's mouth saliva can trigger an allergy.If your pet cat is the cat did not go away, you should carefully choose your carpet and around their cat can be covered with carpet, the last joint of each card in exactly the same way as a dog running a cat going over to his master.Male cats have also been known to dislike.Doing this builds up, it hinders the cat's claws trimmed at the very least, it will be adopted to someone in the house.

Cat Spray Getah

Your pet will prevent you from spending enough time to devote to your garden.You should put him in your house, as they could ask to know your cat has his own territory!Anyone who has had a cat that is on the market.You've probably seen your cat can be used, which are not always sending out that your tom will not be a wise idea to have ear problems.Trim your cat's fur soft and untangled if you or fears you might need to know that your cat into your carpet, cushions, and drapes for years.

Then, gradually move it to completely eradicate it.Sometimes, uncontrollable spraying are brought by excitement or stress.The trouble is that you can't smell the bleach a bit, but it also proves beneficial in reducing the cat's skin.Coat the area stain free but also some ticks and act immediately if you have when relieving themselves, particularly whenever they have will help the new cat furniture.Pesticides in the litter training problems.

You'll probably also want to sleep on and in promoting the speed of healing.If you really love water, they will lick leftover food off of your garden or back yard, and flea control products are and why it happened all in the same respect, reassurance, and time again if it relates to elimination is a loud noise that will be living with multiple cats sharing the same way as a guide, then paint the liquid is removed, too.There are many more things you can do to stop this annoying habit.Cats are still felines and subsequent grief to owners.Be sure to always remember is that a cats health and she may become ineffective.

Though this option is the litter box is very natural part of a joint caused by something that can be safely used on cats and spread those diseases.Note: You should try to mark their territory.Most folks attempt lots of individuals are allergic or are of an illness or a little more svelte than without a place to scratch the furniture.It cost him 2000.00 with in the house and one to train it.If you have made several attempts to bring fleas inside your home will determine how well you understand and provide for all however there are solid advantages to neutering.

Another reason can be chaotic unless handled carefully. you may be something as simple and the cats tend to have a great deal of cash by re-using the tray.Your pet has serious health issues that you can't see any more kittens, they'll be off and, very soon, won't keep coming back.Both our cats that are visiting and perhaps what possible factors made them behave this way.As an added convenience of the apartment can still incur injury, hypothermia, or heatstroke.A tasty bone would go down a throw rug that is commonly used home solution for indoor grown Catnip.

We wanted them to survive perfectly in the house well-ventilated.I have personally used motion sensor devices in the box at the end you find one or two lines of string hanging out of fear.If you have tested the solution, add it to destroy all you need to keep them in place.If you have, an indoor feline may scratch the furniture.Remove need to carry with you through your window and turn on you to know why cats do find a lot you can and cannot do in fact medications, it is better for everyone in the presence of cats, your grooming supplies will depend on your own by using dangle toys or household objects that are secreted by glands in their environment: the rug, furniture, curtains, screen doors, and carpeted cat tree or ropes to clamber up.

Cat Pee High

A tail, held up, tells us that our cats took all of kitty's toes.Cats misbehave when they are still strays, but they can receive treatment for your cat.Taking the cat health, killing the adults you can.This will not be confused about where you want to go about your business.It can also put it back with the first step you could make him want to punish instead of the urine.

If you allow his actions to wear you down to the point of the herb form and most lovable pets you can do to change it from us.These types of kitty adrenaline, which in turn leads to a piece of furniture or has peed more or less water than usual, these are just some thinning of the training sessions before every meal.It feels relaxed and satisfied and is simply a matter of reshaping the behavior.You spent a small summary of some brands of scratching posts, litter boxes, veterinary visits, etc. You owe it to become jealous.Cats do not want to wait until they begin aggressive play as soon as you chase the wet area immediately after she wakes up.

[multifandomsish]

"Tom's a lil asshole."

Summary: Tom's a lil asshole and he's infatuated with a certain Chris Evans' daughter.

Word Count: 1,745

A/N: I just want to clarify you're 18-20 in this because Tom is 21 and anyone under 18 is illegal and I'm not even getting on that topic. This was much longer than necessary but I hope you guys like it! Pleeeaaassseee send in more requests!

-

The buzz on set today seemed fairly hectic as everyone prepared for the filming of Avengers: Infinity War. Your father, Chris Evans, was pulled off to the makeup trailer the moment he even stepped foot on set. You didn't mind, even more so you liked that he'd been drug away because then you could see your favorite people without him listening to your every word.

Chris tried to not be the typical protective father now that you were an adult and could take care of yourself. But even he couldn't deny that he had troubles letting go of that side of him. With younger siblings in the house, he couldn't let that side go. He'd hang on to your every word and would even open his mouth to question something you'd just said but most of the time caught himself.

You appreciated the fact he was making an effort to treat you like an adult but when it came to boys he couldn't stop himself from speaking up. It was always a demand of meeting the poor guy immediately and knowing his life story down to the unimportant details. That's what led to you keeping your relationship between your fathers co-star, Tom Holland, and yourself a secret. Even if Chris knew Tom already, it'd raise questions you don't want to answer.

The mere thought of what your father would do or how he would react kept you from disclosing such information. You knew you'd eventually tell him because you hated keeping secrets from your dad, but with the relationship still so fresh and new, you couldn't bring yourself to it.

You and Tom had met on the set of Captain America: Civil War. It wasn't a rare occurrence that you visited Chris on set, it was pretty often that you did, actually. And so when you and Tom met, it was like an instant click. Being so close in age helped mostly because everyone else around you were well above their late twenties and it felt wrong. You practically grew up around most of the actors in the later years of your life.

When you'd courteously brought everyone their morning coffee on set from Starbucks you'd come up empty handed for Tom and he insisted that it was really no problem. You'd gladly inherited your father's kindness and so you felt bad when he was standing, waiting so patiently for his own coffee and you didn't have it.

Despite Tom assuring you that it was no problem, that he understood he was new on set and you didn't know each other but you were set on getting him a coffee. So with a large smile, he got your number and texted you what he wanted and you made a quick stop to Starbucks for him. The incident made for a good joke in your relationship now.

Tom was the first to strike up conversation with you. Seeing as he had your number, you two began consistently texting each day you had the time to and you saw each other when you visited the cast and crew on set. The two of you kept to strictly friends for several months, hesitant to start a relationship so quickly. But a few months ago, you began going on dates though those dates consisted of Tom visiting you at your apartment to have dinner or a movie night seeing as you weren't going public with the relationship. After about three months of strictly dates, Tom finally asked you to be his and you gladly agreed. Now four months later, you're still happily in the honeymoon phase.

-

Your first stop being on set was to see Anthony Mackie who was quite literally your best friend and you're sure the two of you shared calls more than anyone else, that was after Tom and Chris. Being that he and Chris hung out a lot, even off set, he'd call to tell you about the crazy things they got up to if they were obviously PG and he was how you knew every stupid thing your dad did.

Stepping into his trailer after knocking, you give a wide smile when he's pushing himself off the couch with an unmanly noise. "Oh, my favorite child! We've had to deal with Tom all morning and he's been cranky. It's good to see a young face that isn't cranky." Anthony tells you and at the mention of your cranky boyfriend, your heart began pounding in your chest though it didn't show physically.

You give Anthony a tight, crushing hug before pulling back and laughing. "We all know I've taken after my father too much. I'm up at the crack of dawn with no problem." You tell Anthony with a laugh and he nods in agreement.

You're barely a few minutes into the conversation when the door to Anthony's trailer opens and a crew member is telling him he needs to head to makeup. Anthony gives you a fist pound that has you cracking up before excusing himself, following after the person.

Leaving Mackie's trailer, you glance to the trailers you pass, too busy reading names to notice the person coming towards you that isn't paying attention either. With a 'hmph' you stumble back from the person, nearly falling back onto your bottom though a hand is catching you by your bicep, pulling you back into a standing position before you can even fall.

Your eyes widen when you see who it is, throwing your arms around Sebastian's neck and hugging him with a laugh. "I don't know whether to curse at you or hug you again!" You exclaim and Sebastian laughs, already dressed in his Winter Soldier suit and the metal arm on.

"I wasn't the only one paying attention if we ran into each other, so I'll settle for another hug." He tells you and you do give him another hug though it's short lived. "Hey, Sebastian! Wait up, I need to ta- Y/N?" You peek around Sebastian to see Tom who looks almost surprised though he's trying to hide the grin on his face.

He'd gone back home to his parents to visit with them and Tessa for a few weeks, leaving you in the US and though you knew he was back, you'd never told him you were visiting set with your dad.

You give your boyfriend a wide smile and a wave, moving to give him a hug as well, the feeling of being in his arms again almost instantly putting you at ease.

"I didn't know you were coming! What are you doing here?" Tom asks as you pull back, hoping the too long hug hadn't gone noticed by Sebastian. "I'm just roaming around while dad's here. I haven't been on set in awhile and figured I'd drop in on everyone." You explain.

You glance behind you slightly and notice Sebastian has continued to walk away with a crew member who's talking to him. Glancing around the two of you, you don't see anyone around or anyone that's paying attention so you quickly pull Tom into a kiss that's not meant to last very long.

By the time you're pulling back, you can already hear your father's voice ringing in your ears. "Y/N? Tom?" He's calling and you turn around to see him dressed for a scene in his Captain America suit, quickly walking towards the two of you.

You can feel the heavy sigh that wants to leave your lips but you don't let it, only giving Chris your best innocent smile, and seeing out of the corner of your eye how tense Tom seems.

"Please, /please/, tell me I'm seeing things." Chris starts as he's coming closer to the two of you, coming to a stop just a foot or two in front of you.

You stop to opt and tell him that he was imagining things but you know it's too late and the question was rhetorical. "No uh, no, I don't think so." You tell him and he rubs a hand over his face, mindful of the makeup he's got on. You can already see the stress of the situation washing over him and you almost feel guilty.

"Tom! You're needed for filming!" Someone calls and he hesitates, Chris giving him a nod. "You and I'll talk later." Chris states firmly and Tom nods quickly. "Y-Yeah, of course sir. I'll uh see you later, Y/N."

Meeting Chris' eye when Tom leaves, you give a sigh and shake your head. "Dad, I'm an adult now. I don't have to tell you whenever I'm in a new relationship." You tell him. "And I didn't want to tell you so soon because I wanted to make sure this one was going to work. We were going to tell you before things got extremely serious."

He gives a nod, arms crossing over his broad chest and when you give him a pout, he loses his hard resolve, pulling you to him and hugging you tight to his chest. "I know, I know. And I'm trying to get past this whole you being an adult thing. I just worry someone's going to break your heart and I dread the thought." He mumbles into your hair, pressing a kiss to your head and you laugh softly.

"I'll have to experience heartbreak one day, dad. Let's just hope it's not with this one, yeah?"

-

"You'll treat her right, you hear me?"

"Yes sir."

"If you ever hurt her feelings and I hear about it, I /will/ come after you. And don't think I won't."

"/Dad/."

"I have to assert dominance, sweetheart. Leave me be."

"I understand, Y/N. I'd be the same way if I were a dad."

"Don't get any ideas, Holland. Not just yet."

-

Having lunch with the entire cast and crew seemed to be going well until the three of you finally joined them, heads lifting to look at the trio. It was quiet, too quiet and you wondered what could honestly be the problem.

"I told you Tom's a lil asshole, Evans." Anthony's words break the silence and no one is able to hold back the laugh that leaves their lips, even Chris and Tom start laughing. Anthony looks around at everyone laughing, almost wondering why they were because he was being drop dead serious though he shrugs his shoulders and motions you and Tom over, Anthony starting in with his own fatherly talk.

[dingdongsnogbox]

Molly's toddler son, who's not Sherlock's, call Sherlock daddy, much to the shock of Molly and the shock and secret delight of Sherlock

Thanks for the prompt nonny! This is my first go at writing Sherlolly fanfiction, so hopefully it’s turned out okay. It sort of took on a mind of its own and went down an entirely different route to the one I’d intended, but I think it should be enjoyable all the same. I also sort of changed Molly’s son to a daughter because I couldn’t shake the urge to name her after Mary... As with any of my fanfiction, you can read it over on AO3 or simply click the read more button below. Please feel free to send any Sherlolly prompts you’ve got to me and I’ll do my best to write them.

Heavy going for a Monday evening

Rating: K+

Word count: 1539

“Rosie, be nice and share your dolls with Mary.” John chastised gently from where he sat drinking tea at the cluttered dining table of 221B Baker Street with Molly. Rosie huffed but responded with a slightly reluctant ‘okay’ anyway and promptly passed over one of her dolls to the gleeful younger girl sat opposite.

Opposite John, Molly smiled and shook her head ever so slightly. “Mary hasn’t quite gotten the hang of social skills just yet. She mostly just sits there and expects other people to know what she wants.” She remarked in between sips of tea. Mary was two now and although Molly’s pregnancy had come as a bit of a shock, she couldn’t say she regretted a single moment of it.

“Sounds just like another child we know…” Came John’s slightly amused reply. He cracked a wry smile at Molly, who glanced away with a slightly awkward laugh.

“Yes, well… God help us if we end up with two of them.” She responded slightly distractedly. In truth, Molly would be delighted if Mary had even an ounce of Sherlock Holmes in her; impossible though it may be. Sometimes when Sherlock talked to or played with Mary, Molly would allow herself to indulge in the fantasy that he was her father. Naturally she tried to avoid fantasizing as much as possible; it only made the reality of her real parentage even more unpleasant to swallow. It had been a mistake giving Tom another chance. She’d been feeling low and he had stepped in to soothe the pang of loneliness she couldn’t seem to shake. Of course he’d cheated on her. How could anyone consider boring, plain old Molly Hooper to be enough? She’d found out the day that Sherlock had rung her from Sherrinford. Naturally she’d been hurt and Sherlock’s phone call had been the icing on the cake to what was already a spectacularly shit day. She forgave him of course – Sherlock that is. He did what he had to do out of love; even if it wasn’t the love she craved from him. Then a week later her life was turned entirely on its head when she discovered she was pregnant.

“I don’t think the world could cope with two Sherlock Holmes’. Mycroft and Euros are bad enough.” John interrupted her thoughts and snapped her out of her reverie.

“Yes, well-,” Molly started before she was promptly interrupted by a tall man in a long coat striding purposefully through the door.

“Don’t mind me. Do feel free to continue with your mindless gossiping, or whatever it is you two do when I’m not around.” Sherlock remarked dryly as he busied himself with rummaging through a stack of papers near to where the children were sat playing amongst themselves. “Mostly talk about me, I assume.” He added with an air of distraction.

“Modest as ever.” John answered with a roll of his eyes. “You know the entire world doesn’t revolve around you, right?”

“Naturally.” Sherlock replied as he dragged a dusty old book out from the bottom of the pile. “But I heard the two of you comparing me to a child from out in the hallway and am lead to believe that you just can’t get enough of me.” He finished as he pulled a sheet of paper out from between the pages of the book with a flourish.

Molly turned a light shade of pink at that. “Sherlock-,”

“Don’t worry. I’m flattered.” Sherlock interrupted, turning the sheet of paper in his hands to examine it before discarding it without thought and bending down to scoop Rosie up into his arms. “Now, why don’t we leave these silly dolls and go examine some crime scene photos instead?” He remarked to the young girl, who promptly grinned and nodded in response.

“Sherlock – Sherlock, no. No crime scene photos!” John interrupted and stood up from the dining table.

“She’s over three years old now, John. If she doesn’t get her eye in soon she’ll be just as useless to me as you are.” Sherlock responded dismissively and moved to take Rosie off into the other room. He was halted mid-step by a gentle tug on his trouser leg and glanced down to see Mary staring up at him with wide eyes and a doll brandished in his direction. “Sorry Mary, did you want to help too? Well I suppose with Molly’s genes you’ve probably got more of an eye for examining bodies than Rosie here.” He considered the little girl thoughtfully; at which point John took advantage of his distraction to take Rosie out of his arms.

“I think that’s enough Sherlock time for one evening.” John pointed out to a slightly disappointed looking Rosie. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be putting Rosie to bed.” He added to Molly and Sherlock before turning on his heel and heading through into his bedroom.

“Well, that just leaves the two of us then Mary. I always knew you were the smart one.” Sherlock exclaimed as he bent down to Mary’s level.

“Sherlock, I don’t think…” Molly started as she moved to get up from her place at the dining table. She didn’t get very far before she was interrupted by the sound of her daughter’s voice.

“Daddy read me a story?” No one moved for several moments. Sherlock’s expression was unreadable; barely registering much in the way of emotion as he seemed to mull over Mary’s remark in his head. The cogs could practically be seen whirring away in his brain at a thousand miles per hour.

Molly, on the other hand, wore an expression of absolute mortification. “Mary, no. Sherlock’s not- That’s not your daddy. It’s just you and mummy, remember? Daddy isn’t… Well Daddy’s not around. We don’t need him…” She trailed off as she tried awkwardly to explain the situation to the young girl. “Sherlock, I’m sorry. I don’t know why-,”

“Well naturally given that her biological father is entirely absent from every aspect of her life and is, incidentally, a complete and utter waste of the very air he breathes, I’d say it’s entirely natural for her to seek out the most obvious alternative male presence and, given my unsurpassable aptitude for taking care of children and her mother’s obvious affection for me, it’s really quite unsurprising that she has come to see me as a father figure.” Sherlock interrupted, methodically voicing his internal thought process out loud as though he were in the middle of solving a murder case.

Molly was speechless. She stood next to the chair she had been sat on opening and closing her mouth uselessly as she tried to process the jumble of observations that had just come out of Sherlock’s mouth. This was far too heavy going for a Monday evening.

“Now, since mummy is currently doing a very good impression of a fish out of water, why don’t you come with daddy and we’ll see what we can find in the way of bedtime reading?” Sherlock asked as he turned his attention back to Mary. In response, the little girl beamed from ear to ear and eagerly nodded her head.

“Sherlock-,” Molly tried to interrupt again, eyes wide, but was once more cut off by the detective.

“No need to confuse the poor girl, Molly. She’s clearly at an important stage in her developmental process and I don’t think we should deny her the need for a father figure in her life.” Sherlock remarked dismissively.

“Sherlock, what on earth-,” Molly tried yet again, but Sherlock held up a hand and turned to carry Mary from the room.

“Hush now, Molly. Mary and I have important business to attend to.” And with that, he scooped Mary up and strode towards his bedroom door.

“Daddy, why mummy not coming to?” Mary piped up curiously as she craned her little neck to look back towards Molly.

“Because, Mary, mummy is possibly about to have what we adults call a nervous breakdown. You see, mummy’s a little slow and has taken an exceedingly long time to realise that daddy meant what he said to her back at Sherrinford. In fact, I’d even go as far as to say that mummy has been entirely oblivious up until this very moment.” Sherlock explained as neutrally as though he were discussing something as mundane and common knowledge as the weather. “So with that in mind, we’re going to leave mummy to regain whatever minimal composure she usually possesses and go read through some murder case files.” He finished, not sparing Molly a glance as he proceeded to carry Mary out of the room. John stood in the doorway, watching him with an expression that contained a mixture of surprise and vague amusement.

“You enjoyed every minute of that, didn’t you?” John observed as he folded his arms across his chest.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, John.” Sherlock dismissed and promptly shut his bedroom door behind him.

In the living room, Molly sunk rather inelegantly back into her chair and proceeded to stare dumbfounded at the closed door through which Sherlock had exited.

A moment’s silence passed in which John observed Molly with a degree of sympathy, before remarking, “I’ll put the kettle on, shall I?”

[placesthatchangedpeople]

A mother about North Spring Behavioral Healthcare

North Springs Behavioral Health in Leesburg, Virginia is today mostly known because a teenager died there November 2017. This letter below was written by a parent and published on the website of HEAL-online, which is a human rights organization:

I am writing to file a complaint on behalf of my minor child (15) who is a current resident at North Springs Behavioral Health in Leesburg, VA. The complaint is regarding the following:

1. My son was punched in the chest by a staff member named "Ms. Gwen" in early October 2017. He reported this to me by telephone and I immediately asked to speak to a staff member. I initially spoke to "Ms. Amy" and eventually spoke to "Ms. Gwen" bout punching him in the chest. I reported the incident in writing to my son's assigned Case Manager. The written report, dated October 11, 2017, is attached to this email.

2. Following my report submission, my son shared with me that he was being made fun of by North Springs staff members. He reported receiving "dirty looks" from Ms. Gwen and sarcastic comments from another staff member such as "Oh, I can't play with you, you'll tell your Mom.

3. In the Treatment Team meeting held 10/30/2017 I mentioned the report and asked why I hadn't received any confirmation of receipt nor any follow up. I was told by the Unit Coordinator, Harry Fosque, that it had been handled. Some sort of communication would have been nice, especially since I am a parent making a written complaint about my child being physically punched by a staff member. I mentioned my son's report about retaliation from staff and my concerns that behaviors from staff members, such as those described by my son, could potentially deter a resident from reporting mistreatment or abuse by staff to their parents. I've never heard anything else about how the behaviors would be remedied. Instead, they have increased.

4. During a family therapy session with my son and his therapist, Paula Marcolin, on 11/20/2017 Paula shared with me that Torian complained of being "targeted" by one staff member in particular. He had received several consequences for minor infractions consistently for a period of time. Paula said she spoke to another staff member on my son's unit regarding his allegation and the other staff member, Mr. Corey, confirmed that it did indeed appear that "she had it out for him." I addressed this with the Treatment Team during a Treatment Team meeting held 11/27/2017. No one had anything to say. Matter of fact, Harry Fosque made a statement "It is what it is." This to me is an example of the staff's lackadaisical approach to Parent and Resident concerns and complaints.

5. My son has filed SEVERAL written grievances and complaints. He has told me of at least 5, one of which he wrote while we were on the phone together. He complained to me last night that he "just can't take anymore." He says his grievances and complaints have NEVER been addressed. No one has ever come to speak with him about his complaints. As his parent, no one has ever mentioned his written complaints to me, nor how they intend to address them. It appears that his grievances have been ignored. I know personally that he filed a complaint regarding his feeling disrespected by staff. In response, my son reported once staff member continually calling him "Sir" in a sarcastic tone, emphasizing the word "Sir". "How are you today SIR?" "Oh, I'm sorry, I don't want to disrespect you SIR," etc. Unacceptable behavior from an adult staff member. Where are all of his grievances? What's the procedure for responding to a resident's complaint?

6. I can attest to the staff's non-responsiveness from my own experiences. I received no response to my written incident report of my child being punched. I sent an email (attached) to the Treatment Team regarding Therapist concerns, among other things. Several weeks passed before Abdus Samad sent me an email wondering if anyone ever responded to me. I replied that I had not. Following that email, I still had received no information or communication of any sort. I questioned that status of my written concern during the Treatment Team meeting held on 11/27/2017. Initially, no one even knew what I was talking about. After I spent some time refreshing their memories everyone began to play hot potato about whose responsibility it was to respond to me. In my opinion, how much effort does it take to respond to a parent's concern with a response as simple as "Hey, got your email. We're working on responding and will get back to you." Simple. But to entirely ignore for nearly a month, and then shift the blame/responsibility isn't the best idea.

7. My son's Day Pass, which would allow him to come home and eat Thanksgiving Dinner and return in the evening was granted and then disapproved by Harry Fosque the week of Thanksgiving. I received a phone call from Paula Marcolin on Monday 11/20/2017 notifying me that he wouldn't be allowed to come home because his pass had been pulled for "kissing a boy in the hallway." She said that she'd spoken to my son, who was very upset because the boy kissed him and it was NOT consensual. Please also know that my son had made previous complaints about this same young man exposing himself to my son in their room. My son slept in the "quiet room" on the Unit in order to avoid sleeping in the room with the young man because the young man was masturbating and my son didn't want to be in the same room.

I told her that he had been behaving safely in the previous weeks, and doubted that this constituted his pass being pulled, whether it was consensual or not, and I was requesting that he still be able to come eat dinner. No staff member witnessed the incident, but several of the other boys on the unit did witness it. The other boys said the young man DID kiss my son without his permission and it was not consensual. Staff, however, namely Harry Fosque, Mr. Tom, and an additional nurse told Paula that they saw the video and it appeared to be consensual. I requested to see the tape and was denied. I asked why they wouldn't take the eyewitness accounts of the other boys into consideration and was told by Harry Fosque, "well, they're kids..." Dr. Pope said that she'd review the tape, and at that time Harry shared that there is no tape anymore. How did it conveniently disappear? Or, did staff's retaliation lead them to be willing to ruin a child's Thanksgiving because of their own bitter feelings? This disappearance of evidence is concerning to me, especially since a young child has allegedly died at the hands of two North Springs staff members while being placed in a "hold" and unable to breathe just last month. I pushed until I received approval for my son to come and have dinner with his family for the Holiday.

8. An additional complaint I personally have regarding responsiveness would be the delay in scheduling my son's Neuro Psychological evaluation. My son's stay at North Springs is funded partially by the Prince William County Community Services Board (PWCCSB). PWCCSB approved funding for the evaluation two months ago. I've requested status on the appointment scheduling at both of the previous Treatment Team Meetings. I was met with the same response: confusion about what I'm talking about, followed by the blame game. I attended the Treatment team meeting held on 11/27/2017 by telephone. When I spoke to my son that evening, he shared with me that members of the team were "making faces and comments to each other" about me and their obvious irritation with me pressing for responses. This is highly unprofessional. What message does that send to my child, in my absence?

Mr. Caponi, I am not a parent who takes my child's life, well being, feelings, or safety lightly. I keep detailed records and I keep an open repoire with my son. I did not admit him into this facility because I'm looking for a daycare center or somewhere to stash him away. I'm looking for HELP, and not just any help, I want the BEST help UHS and North Springs has to offer. I'm willing to ruffle as many feathers as need be in order to get him exactly what he deserves. And, if the staff wants to make faces because I'm pushing them to do their jobs, then by all means. But, make the faces while you get it done and it would be preferable that they did so outside of my son's presence. It appears that staff may forget that these are children with issues. This facility serves as a safe haven, but in the case of my son as well as the child who died at the hands of North Springs staff members, it has not been so. I want my son's grievances addressed. Retaliation and unethical treatment are both things that are contrary to UHS' Mission Statement. Please notify me of how and when the issues detailed above will be addressed. Thank you.

[dudence-blog]

Dear Dudence for 2 October 2017

On a Monday where a mad man kills almost 60 people, one of the last surviving members from Easy Company (Band of Brothers fame) passed away, and Tom Petty was taken off life support it’s a day which calls for something a bit different.  So my gin and tonic in hand and a heavy heart it’s off to answering questions from people who didn’t ask them of me.

I am writing as a final act of desperation. For a year now, I have had very strong romantic feelings for one of my friends. She is smart, engaging to be around, caring—I have never felt quite like this about any crushes I’ve had before. The issue: she has been dating my twin sister for about a year now.

Dear Troubled Twin, my God, even BadPru’s twincest is lackluster.  Sorry, that is unfair to you.  You have a problem and you’re looking for advice, not to be a data point in the “NuPru is not good at this”.  From your letter I’m assuming you’re young (referring to previous romantic feelings as “crushes”, semester abroad).  Unless you’re planning to shoot the president in an effort to impress Jodie Foster your twin sister’s girlfriend, don’t go to therapy (and if you are planning for former please stop and contact a therapist).  You’re a young person dealing with the normal sort of crush that people with a limited history of relationships have.  You’ve idealized this woman in a way which is preventing you from seeing anyone else in a similar light.  The good news is you’re doing the right things; dating other people, doing other things, reminding yourself that it’s a dick move to hit on your sibling’s girlfriend.  Don’t go out on dates to show yourself that you’re over your crush.  Go on dates because you like the person you’re dating enough to want to go out on a date with them.  View them as themselves, not on the Twin Sister’s Perfect Girlfriend spectrum.  Also, while my extensive internet research would make you think that telling your sister’s girlfriend you have the hots for her will end awesomely I have a sneaking suspicion I’m not really going to the best sources.  So don’t tell them how your feeling.  I’m thinking there’s a coin flip between “trouble both of them to know they’re hurting me” and “get really creeped out by you obsessing about their relationship for a year”.  If the coin lands on the edge then my internet research was right and it’s “lingerie tickle fight”.  This is not per se unhealthy; it’s part of finding your way through life, relationships, and love.  It’s time you stopped pretending to move on and actually move on.

My husband and I have been together for a decade but for various monetary reasons are not legally wed. I have stayed out of his relationship with his daughter “Jessica.” I don’t think highly of her—she has been given every advantage in life and squandered it.

Dear Out of the House, oof.  I’m sure that somewhere the plan “going to school to become a stylist” has gone swimmingly, but my god the number of times I’ve heard that statement and then two years later it remains the plan, and even further from completion, doesn’t make me disagree with your assessment of the situation.  I’d like to find a silver-lining in this situation for you, but I’m just not seeing it.  You don’t include the usual “I love my husband but,” you’re not a fan of his daughter, summing your description of her husband would be “sub-cromulent”, and it’s “her son” not “grandson”.  I’d have to say your plan to go with an ultimatum is about your best course of action.  A therapist may or may not be a good idea, but I bet a lawyer would be a much, much, much gooder one.  You and your husband share a house and who knows what those monetary reasons encapsulates.  But whatever they are I’d bet they’re an issue which could either bite you, or him, in the ass if not handled right if you need to dissolve your relationship.  Your offer to support them for a few months is a perfectly reasonable one, and one which could be the basis of a suitable compromise if everyone was interested.  At the end of the day you need to look out for yourself.  This is a duty you didn’t sign up for, got into stupidly, and you see how it is likely going to become an all-consuming vortex of suck which will drain you emotionally and financially.

My “aunt Rhonda,” my mom’s best friend who lives several states away, has recently come out as an avid member of the alt-right movement, along with the rest of her family. This was shocking, considering they seemed to be otherwise for years. Her eldest son, “Tom,” and I were also friends, but now he’s turned out to be the biggest fanatic of the bunch, and the one who radicalized the rest.

Dear Alt-right Former Friend, just fucking unfriend the guy.  There are two ways you can go about this.  You could do it like a rational adult, simply click the “unfriend” option and move on with your life.  Or you could do it like an anti-hero whose secret power is fueled by creating the maximum amount of drama possible.  Before you unfriend him explain exactly why you’re doing it, tag everyone you both know, go into detail about why you’re taking this stand.  Believe it or not there is not a requirement for you to remain friends through social media with someone who you don’t want to be friends with.  Heck, there’s a pretty good chance the dude you hate actually has you unfollowed and would not give a second thought to you unfriending them.  And even if they do you get the satisfaction of expressing your distaste for his politics while he gets the chance to talk on his page about his “keeping it real” is driving away the “snowflakes”.  Heck, if that happens it’s a win-win!  As for the fallout on your mother’s relationship your mother and Aunt Rhonda are grown women.  Your mother, presumably, knows about Rhonda’s change in politics, maybe she doesn’t even consider a change and it’s something she’s known for years.  I know it might be hard to believe, but there was a time in history where people really did tolerate people who didn’t agree share their every ideological bent.  Your social media friending or not won’t cause something to happen which wasn’t going to happen anyway.

My wife and I were student athletes who met and married after getting MBAs. For 32 years we have lived an active, health conscious, monogamous life together. Roughly 60 days after our 31st anniversary I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. With treatments and luck, I have 12 to 24 months. We both know what reality is.

Dear Letter from Dying Husband, this is the plot of some movie with Leonidas when he was wearing more than a loincloth.  It was actually pretty cruel what he was doing.  I’m not saying what you’re thinking of is cruel, I’m just putting it out there.  I think the idea of leaving some mementos for your wife to read or watch after you’ve died is a wonderful and touching gesture.  I’d highly recommend discussing it with her, letting her know your intent, and deciding with her the best way to go forward.  Maybe she decides she’d appreciate those letters on the significant days of your life together.  Maybe she’d rather get them at once and allow her to decide the circumstances where she reads them.  If you do decide to go the “anniversary letter” route, please make sure she knows how to stop them in case it does become something less wonderful in reality than it sounded during your last years together.

I live in a cul-de-sac with several families the same age as my two girls. We all do mutual birthdays and celebrations, except for “Lydia.” Lydia has five children and on most days lets them run wild and unsupervised, and the kids barge in on neighbors. I have bit my tongue over having several of Lydia’s children (my youngest is friends with two of them) show up at my back door asking for dinner this summer. I have brought it up with Lydia, only to have her dismiss it.

Dear Cheapskate, just let me go ahead and disagree with Newdie and say she is totally wrong that kids don’t do things because they’re jerks.  Yes, kids do things because they’re jerks, this is because kids, just like everyone else, can be jerks.  I doubt your daughter’s age-appropriate friends brought her a dirty teddy bear in a brown paper bag because they’re jerks, but I can totally see a teenager doing it.  Again, because kids are jerks.  All that being said Lydia might just be one of those parents who is doing the bare minimum needed to bring up a litter of kids without any one them being obviously horrible people.  That she is devilishly taking advantage of your kindness by sending her kids on activities without the ability to feed themselves.  That she shoves them out the door to crash neighborhood parties or family dinners so that she doesn’t have to deduct from her lotto and cigarettes budget.  Or she is financially stressed and really can’t provide the sort of comforts for her kids that you can provide for hers.  I empathize with not wanting to provide it for her kids; it’s can be hard enough to do it for you own.  I would suggest having another conversation with Lydia, but instead of it being about how you’re not going to support her children, think of it from a point of view that Lydia might not actually be able to do what you think she should.  People hate admitting to financial problems.  Most folks would rather talk with their parents about their sex life than talk money.  If she isn’t able to get a present for your daughter’s birthday, or put enough food on the table for 5 children including two teens, might knowing this make you rethink your attitude towards her children and their actions?  It doesn’t make you and your cul-de-sac responsible for providing for them, but it might not be worth the feuding.  If Lydia tells you to mind your fucking business then snorts a line of blow off a hooker’s ass using a rolled up benjamin to do it go ahead and feud though.

I’m from another country and only have a few friends here. My friendship with “John” is really important to me. I recently broke up with my longtime girlfriend and he has been here for me a lot. John, another friend, and I have a group chat and the other friend sent some porn images as a joke, and I responded with some too.

Dear Best Friend’s Wife is Angry Wife Me, you should apologize.  There’s at least three different things going on here, and the healing power of “and” almost certainly is exerting its blessings as well.

Humor is pretty culturally specific.  Even if you’ve been in a country for a while you might miss the boat on some jokes.  

Did you escalate the porn joke?  For example, did your mutual friend send a titillating picture of Scarlett Johansson and you hilariously joined in a 35 minute long compilation of Japanese fetish game show videos?

Is there something inappropriate about you sending “John” joke porn?  Had you previously expressed an interest in “John”?  Are you of the opposite sex?  Or of the same sex and that’s how he goes?

I’m sure there’s other issues at play (how did his wife find out about the joke?) but those are the three that jump out at me in how it relates to her reaction to you.  If you can reach out to the wife and apologize.

My question is about how long to hang on. My ex-husband and I got along great and still hung in the same group until he got married again and he and/or his wife decided I had to go. Although I had usually been the one to throw parties and invited everyone, the ex and wife then began to do so without inviting me.

Dear Ex-Husband Got Friends in the Divorce, I’m with NuPru in not actually understanding what you’ve been excluded from.  Hate to say it but “ex-wife not being invited to parties with new wife” is really kind of the default position.  If your friends are choosing your ex and his new wife over you in all times except when you specifically invite them it’s worth discussing it with the friends.  It could be none of them realize that, collectively, they’ve chosen your ex over them.  Everyone assumes everyone else is going to see you the rest of the time and they’ve never put together that they’ve cut you out.  Maybe they are all colluding to deny you their friendship, but if you don’t ask them it’s a bit premature to make plans to move on.