#plus I think it’s funny when I scare people by simply appearing in rooms quietly

[deityofhearts]

the way I walk is great because I can get around without being heard which is very fun and silly but also. I look fucking stupid

[maximoffcarter]

Please write a fic where Wanda Maximoff is trying to make a new youngish avenger laugh because the reader doesn’t laugh a lot but Wanda loves hearing him/her laugh and eventually discovers that the reader is VERY ticklish and she pins down and tickles the reader? :)

Love the way you laugh.

Pairings: Wanda x reader

Summary: Every since y/n joined the team, Wanda noticed how serious she sometimes was, but loved when she could see her smile or she heard the silent laugh. So after some time, it became Wanda’s mission to make her laugh...not exactly with jokes or tv shows or movies...

A/n: This was fun to write, cause I’m actually ticklish and I know how it feels lol. If you have any other requests, my ask box is open, and messages too. I have free time so I have some time to write every now and then ;)

Wanda was never one to be the funniest person on earth, she didn’t smile much, not after all that she had gone through. Of course she had moments with her brother, she had moments with the avengers when she joined, but she couldn’t really say she had been the happiest. Now, she tried her best to be happy and accept life as it was. Natasha had been her mentor this whole time, and every now and then, they joked with each other and Wanda had learned that at the end of the day, there were things to smile for and it was possible to be happy and have bad days, everyone had their bad and happy days.

So when Tony introduced the new members of the avengers, she was surprised to notice a girl that was behind Peter. They had already known Peter for a while, but he was now going to stay with them in the compound, and behind him, seemed to be a shy girl that looked somehow lost. Wanda promised herself she wouldn’t go into her mind, she didn’t want to invade her privacy plus she didn’t know the girl, so she didn’t exactly know if she had powers or not, so she decided to be patient to know this girl. Even with everyone greeting her with a smile on their faces, she didn’t smile much or really showed much emotion as she said her hello’s.

Natasha walked behind Wanda and whispered softly against her ear. “Someone caught your attention?”

“Who is that girl?” Wanda hadn’t even moved when Natasha attempted to scare her, her focus was entirely on the new girl.

“Peter’s friend, apparently. Tony mentioned she had powers and it would be good for the team. Plus, she doesn’t really have family, so she needed somewhere else to stay.” Natasha laid beside Wanda as she looked at her. “You and I will train her.”

Wanda then looked at Natasha. “We will?”

“Yes.” Natasha nodded. “Apparently, she has similar powers like yours.” She offered a small smile before she walked to the new girl to introduce herself.

Wanda had been deep in thought as she tried to convince herself to not go through her mind, something had caught her attention, but she couldn’t quiet tell why.

“Wanda!” Peter smiled as he jumped in front of her, this time, making Wanda jump. “This is y/n. Y/n, this is Wanda.”

Y/n offered a small smile, barely there. “Hey.”

Wanda smiled. “Hi. Welcome.” She simply said as she looked how Peter pulled y/n to give her a tour around. It would be interesting to meet this new girl.

   _____________________

As usual, Tony said they needed a little break from the whole superhero thing,  and it would be good to throw a party just because he could, and he wanted to. They had all being excited about it and said nothing as more people appeared in the compound, only increasing the volume of the music, and making it hard to walk around. Wanda had decided to stay in her room for a little while until she was pulled by Natasha to join them and have a little fun. She walked around with a cup of soda, looking how everyone laughed and danced. But then she noticed someone in a hidden spot, apparently doing the same thing as Wanda. Wanda decided to go on and talk to her, wanting to break the ice.

Wanda rested her back against the wall just like y/n but turned to look at her. “What is miss y/n doing here on her own? The party sure seems to be fun.”

Y/n raised her brow. “Well…some people find parties fun. I certainly don’t.” She turned to look at Wanda. “And neither do you, apparently.”

Wanda rolled her eyes playfully and shrugged. “Never been my favorite. But it’s also kinda boring to stay in my room.”

Y/n nodded as she turned her attention back to the crowd. “Can’t say I don’t enjoy being alone.”

Wanda tilted her head softly. “I can tell.”

“But I must say, I’m not really much of a talker, so you’re probably gonna get bored with me too.” Y/n shrugged as she drank from her cup again.

“We are talking, aren’t we?” Wanda smirked as she bumped her shoulder with y/n’s.

Y/n only rolled her eyes playfully as smirked. “I guess we are.”

Wanda could’ve sworn that she had done something good but didn’t comment on it seeing that she tried to not smile. “We don’t have to talk about us, we can randomly talk about anything really. Even about the people in here.”

Y/n looked at Wanda and bit her lip as she turned to look back at the crowd. “What do you think about that girl that’s talking to Steve?”

Wanda only smiled as she turned to look at the girl, knowing that somehow she had accomplished something small.

____________________

For the past few months, Wanda had somehow made y/n open up a little more to her, she had gotten y/n to laugh when she was with Wanda, even if she didn’t like it much, in occasions…weird occasions. Wanda had truly fallen for her laugh and her smile; as small as the laugh was, it was there, and it was the best for her. Y/n would mostly laughed with Wanda, not with the others, of course she smiled and joked with them, but never showed her laugh, only a silent laugh.

When Wanda wasn’t looking, she’d feel y/n looking at her and sometimes smiling, she knew that there was something stopping her from saying something, and she didn’t really blame her. Peter had told Wanda that no one really knew her past, all they knew was that she didn’t have any family and she had nowhere else to go, it was no surprise to her, being lonely in the world and feeling you had no one; Wanda had been there before until she found her family here.

After some convincing, she had finally gotten y/n to watch a show with her, she thought that maybe if she shared some of her favorite sitcoms, y/n would finally be able to laugh out of nowhere. She had prepared the whole thing, the others were out on a mission, so she thought it would finally be time for y/n to laugh for her. Even if…Wanda wasn’t trying to really force her to, but she could feel the struggle inside her, some darkness that y/n couldn’t really push away. So pushing her a little to do so wasn’t so bad.

They had seen already 3 episodes, the food was already gone and only small laughs coming from y/n; quiet laughs. Wanda felt embarrassed for laughing too much or smiling, it made her happy because it was a comfort zone for her. She sometimes felt y/n’s eyes on her, she tried not to look back, but she was curious about her staring, so as the episode finished, Wanda turned the tv off, making y/n look at the tv confused as to why she had done that.

Y/n looked back at Wanda, a confused look on her face. “You okay?”

Wanda turned to look at y/n as she crossed her legs. “Do you know that I can read minds?”

Y/n raised her brow. “Can you?” Wanda nodded. “What does that have to do with you turning the tv off?”

“I feel you, y/n…somehow I just…I feel you.” Wanda bit her lip. “I know what it’s like to be alone and I don’t know much about you, and what I know…I feel like there’s more.” She swallowed softly as she looked down at her hands. “I know the feeling. I’ve been there.”

Y/n only nodded. “And you understand that is not easy to talk about those things when you don’t really trust people.”

“I do.” Wanda looked back at y/n. “And I am not trying to push you, I just…I want you to know that I’m here.”

Y/n looked down at her hands as she thought. She licked her lips nervously as she looked up at Wanda. “I’ve been an orphan since I have memory. Changing houses almost every month. No stable family. I got my powers out of nowhere, I was an experiment and then I ran away.” She sighed. “I don’t even know if I have family.”

“You have one, right here.”

Y/n smiled softly. “I know. They had shown that.”

“But it’s hard.” Wanda completed her sentence.

“Yeah.” She huffed softly. “But…I trust you.” She offered a small smile and then she turned away from Wanda.

Wanda smiled softly at this. “Okay…how about jokes? They can make you laugh, right?”

“Why do you want so badly to make me laugh, Maximoff?” She turned to look at Wanda again as she raised her brow.

“And why not? I’m curious to hear you laugh more.” Wanda shrugged. “Is it so bad for someone to like to see people laugh?”

“No.” Y/n shook her head. “Cause I like making you laugh.” She grinned softly at this.

Wanda chuckled at this. “You do make me laugh and smile.”

Y/n tilted her head. “Do I?” She smiled at this and nodded. “Well, at least to someone, I am funny.” She shrugged as she chuckled softly and yet quietly.

Wanda squinted her eyes. “What if-“ she shrugged as she moved a little closer to her. “I think I may know another way to make you laugh.” She raised her brow teasingly, she then moved her hand and poked y/n’s side; what she didn’t expect was for y/n to jump a little and to hear a small giggle coming from her.

She cleared her throat. “You know what? We should call it a night.” Y/n said as she poked Wanda’s side before she stood up.

“Oh, c’mon. We were just starting.” Wanda stood up and walked to y/n. “You don’t like being with me or what?”

Y/n turned to look at Wanda and shook her head. “I actually do. Pretty much.” She smiled. “But…I am tired, and I did promise Natasha I’d be up early to train. But…” she looked down at Wanda’s hand and couldn’t help but hold it. “Tomorrow night…” she brought the hand up to her lips and kissed the back of it. “…we can continue to watch the show. I did enjoy it.” Y/n looked back at Wanda as she opened the door and left the room.

Wanda only smiled as she the door closed, looking down at her hand. She looked back up at the door and nodded. “Tomorrow night…”

____________________

It happened every night. Every night after dinner, y/n would go to Wanda’s room and continued where they left off. They had gotten closer somehow which made Wanda very happy because she didn’t think she would get y/n to even talk to her, so now having her come to her room every single night, it made her feel safe, and it made her happy. Y/n also felt safe around Wanda, and it made her happy to know that Wanda actually enjoyed her company; she was not the lonely girl she used to be, she had opened herself up with everyone and now she felt part of the family.

As every other night, y/n laid in bed together as they watched the show; Wanda’s laugh filled the room while y/n laughed more to herself. They had finally watched the last episode of the show and y/n sighed loudly as she looked at Wanda.

“Are you sad that you didn’t make me laugh as you expected me to?” Y/n smirked.

“You’re boring.” Wanda rolled her eyes as she sat up on the bed and looked back at y/n. “I’m sure you have a nice laugh and you’re just too scared to show it.”

“I am not, I just…don’t like my laugh.”

“So you do laugh loudly.” Wanda teased.

“I haven’t in…maybe never. Just like…chuckles or…silent laugh.” Y/n shrugged.

Wanda then smirked and moved without saying anything. She got on top of y/n and smiled down at her as she chuckled.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Y/n furrowed her brows as she looked up at Wanda, a little nervous but at the same time curious about what she was going to do?”

“A little experiment.” Wanda smirked as she placed her hand on y/n sides.

Y/n’s breath hitched, not sure where this was going but then, Wanda’s fingers started tickling her sides and y/n couldn’t take it anymore. She stared laughing loudly as she tried to push Wanda off her, but the tickles had taken over her body and she didn’t have enough strength to even push her away. Wanda laughed along her as she had finally gotten what she had been waiting for, she loved every moment of this.

“W-Wanda…s-stop.” She laughed more as she tried to push her away. “I’m gonna…it h-hurts. My tummy.” She laughed a little more before she got to place her hands on Wanda’s waist and she turned the around, ending up on top of Wanda and pinning her down.

Wanda laughed as she looked up at y/n. “Finally, I got it. You’re ticklish!”

“How dare you do that?” Y/n still laughed as she looked down at Wanda. “You’re truly insane.”

“Maybe. But I got to hear that pretty laugh.” Wanda smiled.

Y/n finally felt her breathing coming back to normal and she sighed as she looked down at her. “You did get to hear it.” She got off of Wanda and sat on the bed.

Wanda tilted her head as she sat down with y/n. “Hey…I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to do that.”

Y/n turned to look at Wanda. “It’s not that I just…I’ve never laughed that way before. And…being here just…it makes me happy.” She smiled.

Wanda hugged her legs. “Well, I’m glad you’re happy.”

“You made that.” Y/n confessed as she turned her body to be in front of Wanda.

“Did I?”

“Yep.” Y/n chuckled. “Why?”

Wanda shrugged. “Does it matter the why? Like I said, I love your laugh.”

“You said you liked, not loved.” Y/n teased.

Wanda rolled her eyes playfully. “I know what it’s like to not wanting to laugh or smile or not finding the purpose on it. I spent some time that way, but then I found my family. And…you also make me happy. I just…you caught my attention the moment you came here. No other reason.”

“Be honest…you got into my mind?” Y/n raised her brow.

“No…but I thought about it.” Wanda shrugged, she looked back at her. “Didn’t want to invade your privacy.”

“I trust you. Maybe some other time.” Y/n smiled. “So…is miss Maximoff ticklish too?”

“Don’t you dare.” Wanda raised her brow. “But not really, not that much.”

Y/n chuckled. “Fine. Some other time too.” She looked down at her hands for a moment. “So…” she looked at Wanda again. “What do you say about a date?”

Wanda smiled. “A date?”

“A date.” Y/n chuckled.

“I’d like that very much.” Wanda giggled. “Do you promise you’ll laugh?”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “No, I won’t.”

Wanda raised her brow. “Are you sure about that?” She smirked as she moved slowly.

“Don’t you dare, Maximoff.”

“Just a little laugh.” Wanda chuckled as she jumped on top of y/n and started tickling her again.

“Stop!” Y/n laughed loudly again as she tried to push her off, but at the same time, she didn’t mind it if it meant she would hear Wanda laugh.

“What is going on in there?” Steve asked as he stopped right outside Wanda’s door.

Natasha chuckled. “Wanda and y/n.” She smirked.

Steve looked at her for a moment. “What?”

“C’mon, fossil. I’ll explain it after you get me some dinner.” Natasha said as she pulled Steve with her, wanting to give them some privacy. 

[writers-block246]

Bucky Barnes x Reader - The Light Amidst my Darkness

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Warning: Mentions of mental illness. I tried to present Bucky’s challenges as accurately as possible. However, if anyone has some suggestions as to better portray his illness and resulting therapy, please lmk! (I researched to depict his struggle with mental illness and the type of therapy he would recieve as accurately as I could). Curse words are also included.

Notes: Italics are thoughts and emphasis. Set before Infinity War and Endgame. Slow burn. Slight angst in this chapter.

——————————————————————————

Chapter 3:

Your day had been, to put it simply, Hell. You had been plagued by nightmares the night before, the images consisting of subjects you could no longer remember once the drowsiness seeped from your skin. Thus, you had awoken on the wrong side of the bed (quite literally), and your mood hadn’t improved since. You weren’t going to lie: you were irritable and tired, and frankly? You just wanted some sleep.

On top of your sleepiness, your boss had you in meetings (discussing unimportant topics, in your opinion) all morning. There was not a moment to think, let alone catch up on some much-needed rest.

To make matters worse, your first session consisted of a whirlwind of emotions from your patient; ranging from solemn to outraged to cheerful. Normally, you could handle the situation just fine. However, your restless night made it nearly impossible.

You sighed. You just really wanted to get this day over with.

One last session and then I can go home and sleep forever.

Your last session of the day was with James Barnes. While the man still hadn’t said anything since your last conclave where he cracked and asked you about your motives, he had become noticeably less hesitant when entering your office. And dare you say, more comfortable. You had high hopes that he would continue to progress. However, you expected his silence would persist for a few more sessions, at the least. You definitely pegged him as a stubborn and determined man.

He wouldn’t give up easily.

Or so you thought.

The usual time of 2:30 struck and you settled in your seat, awaiting James’s punctual arrival.

As per usual, the soldier knocked, waited for your invitation to enter, and then opened the door quietly. After, he made his way to his seat and settled comfortably. You noticed there was only trace amount of tension in his shoulders. Still evident, but it was clear that he was more secure in this space. He no longer appeared ready to bolt at a moments notice.

Giving him your typical smile, you greeted him.

Instead of nodding however, he responded with a greeting of his own: “Hello.”

Simple, you knew, but this meant everything for James. You knew he had probably been preparing himself for this moment for days, trying to convince himself that you were at least somewhat trustworthy.

You really couldn’t help the smile that lit up your entire face.

He trusted you, at least a little. But, you refused to push him. Greeting you probably took a large toll on him. And so, the rest of your session was as quiet as a sleeping viper.

It was funny, really, how one little greeting from the man made your mood improve exponentially.

But it meant you had done something. As insignificant as it appeared to the human eye, you had, some way or another, helped James Buchanan Barnes. It was a small step, but it still meant progression. And in this case, any advancement was good. Plus, from the information in his files, you made the conclusion that no one had truly benefitted or assisted the ex-assassin. So, the fact that you, out of all the highly regarded medical professionals that he had dealt with, aided him in any way, was mind blowing. Of course, you were determined to see it done, but to actually have it happen was shocking.

What wasn’t shocking, however, was the smile that remained on your face for the rest of the session.

I can’t believe I actually made progress with him today. Me! Of all people!

Your plan, so far, was working.

Caught up in your pride at your accomplishment, you hadn’t even realized the session had ended. Realizing you were late to give your usual ‘goodbye,’ you went to open your mouth when Mr. Barnes beat you to it: “Goodbye. Have a nice day.”

And with that, he had crossed the room and exited before you could utter a response.

He truly outdid himself today. Not only did he greet me, but he also wished me a good day! Progress, indeed.

You grinned, perhaps the day wasn’t so bad after all.

And so, the following sessions occurred in similar fashion. Although, each time he greeted you, you tried to appear less surprised (it was up for debate if you succeeded). At the end of the session, like clockwork, he would say his goodbye and hasten out the door. (The previous session, however, he had seemed to wait a little longer before leaving the room, giving you just enough time to return his ‘goodbye.’ You still weren’t sure whether or not this was done on purpose, though. But you told yourself it was).

The change in him was small, but if you looked closely, it was clear to see that he was becoming more familiar with you. The thought left a little strand of hope in your stomach. Hope that you could truly help this traumatized and hurting man.

Thursday morning, as you strolled to the Tower’s coffee stand, you mumbled to yourself. “First I’ve got to turn in those reports, and then I need to update the information in my files. I also should probably-“

“Overworking yourself again?”

You jumped at the sound, turning to give whoever had the audacity to scare you a piece of your mind.

The blue eyes and blonde hair gave him away immediately.

Steve Rogers.

You smiled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Captain.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure. But seriously, you need to cut yourself some slack, you know.”

“Oh, ‘cause you’re such a great role model in that subject,” you said teasingly.

He gave a bashful smile. “Touché.” He cleared his throat, “so, how’s it going with your new patient?”

You couldn’t help but smile. He was always so worried about James, so protective of him.

“Steve, you know that’s confidential.”

His face fell a little. “Yeah, yeah I know. I just worry about him sometimes.”

You sighed, feeling bad for the Captain. “Well, I can’t tell you much, but what I can tell you is that he is behaving quite well. Better than expected actually.”

At that, Steve’s eyes lit up. “Yeah? Is he improving?” he asked excitedly.

“Steve.....” you warned.

He coughed, embarrassed. “Right, right. Confidentiality.”

You smiled warmly. “Exactly.” Looking up at him, you playfully asked: “So, the only reason you decided to give me a heart attack was to ask about Mr. Barnes?”

Steve blushed and rushed to correct you. “No. No. Of course not. I just haven’t seen you in awhile.”

You laughed at his cute reaction. “Yeah, I’ve been super busy as of lately. I’ve been trying to stay on top of it, but I’m not sure if I’m succeeding.”

Placing a hand on your shoulder, he confidently told you: “I’m sure you’ve got it handled. You’re always so put together. Makes me a little jealous.”

You both laughed.

“Thanks, Steve. So, what about you, Mr. Captain America? What have you been up to?”

“Same old, same old, to tell you the truth.”

“Sooooo, saving the world?”

“Pretty much,” he laughed shyly.

Suddenly, a loud beeping noise interrupted your conversation. Checking your phone, you realized you had a session with Mr. Barnes in ten minutes. “Damn, looks like I’m not getting any coffee today.”

He nodded understandingly. “Work?”

“Our infamous Mr. Barnes, actually.”

He smiled. “Well, I hope it goes well.”

Grinning back, you said: “Me too. I’ll see you around, Cap.”

“See you later, Y/N.”

After exchanging promises to meet up and talk, you turned and headed back to your office. You were only a little disappointed in your lack of coffee.

If I had to give up my caffeine, at least it was replaced by some good company.

Finally reaching your office, you took a seat and began preparing for your next session with James.

The minutes slipped past, and you heard your phone ding. Still no James. Fifteen minutes passed and he still hadn’t arrived.

Where is he?

A knock then came at your door. After calling for them to enter, James strode in and settled in his seat.

“Hello. It wasn’t a good day for me.”

Holy shit. Did he just start a session? Like an actual session with talking? What the hell do I do now??

When you gave no response, he continued on: “I know that therapists usually ask you about your day, so.” He nervously avoided your eyes, remaining tense in his seat.

Recovering, you gave a slight cough. “Okay. What made it a bad day?”

Keeping his eyes rooted firmly at the side of your face, he said: “I’m tired. And angry. And normally, I can suppress the negative emotions, but it was too much today.”

You nodded. “That makes sense. Is there a reason it was too much?

He sighed. “Someone told me that they hoped I ‘got well soon.’ And I know, I know, they were just trying to be nice. But it just reminded me that I’m still so fucked up. Even months after I got rid of Hydra’s brainwash.”

You sighed. “Look, Mr. Barnes. I’m not going to sit here and feed you the same shit your previous psychiatrists have. I told myself on day one that I wasn’t going to treat you like some kid. So, there’s no point in lying to you. You’ve been through a lot of shit, and that’s going to take some time to work through. But Mr. Barnes, I don’t think you’re as broken as you think you are. As other people have made you think you are.”

“You—you don’t?” he asked hesitantly.

“No. In fact, you’ve made considerable progress.”

He looked confused. “I’ve hardly talked.”

“But you went from not talking at all, to talking a little. You also seem noticeably less tense. In quite a short time span, I might add.”

“I would hardly call that progress,” he scoffed.

“I would,” you stated strongly. “I know it’s hard to refrain from beating yourself up, because you want to go back to normal, to be the person you once were. Honestly though? Being the person you used to be is overrated, as there’s always room for self-improvement. After all, don’t you want to become a better version of who you were? Even before the whole ‘Winter Soldier’ thing?

He thought for a moment. “Yes.”

You smiled. “I want to be a better person than who I was years ago, too. So, I strive for it everyday.”

“You do?

“Oh, yeah,” you laughed. “I’ve done things I wish I could take back. But, the past is the past, and I can only move forward.”

He seemed to contemplate that last sentence, almost as if he didn’t agree. You made sure to take note of that.

You continued: “Plus, you’re on no set schedule. There’s no expectation that you improve by a certain date. So try not to push yourself, okay? I realize it’s hard, but we’ve got all the time in the world. Plus, you’re not too bad of company, Mr. Barnes.”

You saw the corners of his lips quirk up at that.

Clearing his throat, he said: “Thank you. I really appreciate you being honest with me. I get sick of hearing the same shit from doctors.”

You smiled. “Of course. That’s what I’m here for.”

A chirping noise signaled the end of your session.

“And that’s that, Mr. Barnes. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

He nodded. “Have a good day.”

With a smile in your voice, you said: “You too.”

As he exited your office, he couldn’t help but feel a little better about himself.

Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing after all, he thought.

-Admin Cheyenne

More to come!! Lmk what you think!

[crimsonrae]

Bear and Birdie

Chapter Five

Summary: AU Howard only ever had Birdie to confide in as a child and Steve only ever had Bucky. So, what happens when more than just a supersoldier serum connects these people? Told in a collection of one-shots and flashbacks, rating subject to change.

Bucky BarnesxOFC

Rating: Mature

Chapter Five

1937 Queens, New York

"Hey lady, are you sure you want to be let out here? It ain't exactly a nice neighborhood, you know?"

Elena's eyes pulled from the darkened street to meet the worried gaze of her cab driver. He was nice as far as cab drivers went, smart too. He had picked up that she wasn't from around these parts. Her clothes while simple were well made and clean. Her hair curled and pinned. She presented a well kept facade – a complete contrast from the world outside the cab. She offered him a rueful smile as she gazed out to the club she was to enter. A few men lollygagged outside, smoking and generally just shooting the breeze. For a moment, she contemplated how the night made men seem more sinister.

She sighed, "Yes, this my stop."

The driver opened his mouth to question her again when she opened her purse and handed him his fare, plus a tip. He sighed quietly to himself as he thought of his Millie coming to a place like this by herself. It didn't sit right with him to let out this nice girl. She'd be eatin' alive, "Look, do you want me to come in with ya? Or wait?...this place really isn't safe, doll."

Elena's smile tightened at the pet name and she had to force herself not to react. The man before her was simply trying to be nice. She glanced at the club again, "I shouldn't be longer than twenty minutes and my cousin's inside. He has a car here."

"If you're sure." The cabbie mumbled hesitantly, already planning to stick around to make sure she got out okay.

"I am." Elena replied as she stepped out of the cab without a glance back. She missed the cabbie shaking his head as he watched her stroll up to the club as if she owned the place. He wasn't sure if she didn't notice the leers of the men standing outside or was just ignoring them. God, he hoped his Millie never had reason to come to place like this.

What the cabbie didn't see was the firm icy glare that had fallen over Elena's expression as she headed for the doorman. It was just past midnight and she had been lucky to get a cab at all – but Howard had missed their dinner appointment. Not an unusual event, but his disappearance from his home the past few days, coupled with the stressful events that were currently surrounding Stark Industries and by default Howard. Well...she knew there were only a few places that her cousin would disappear to, in order to relieve his stress.

This was her least favorite place.

The doorman only held her gaze for a split second before he simply took the money she palmed him and let her inside. He could practically feel the irritation wafting off of her and seemed to know better than to question her presence. Elena paid the man little mind as she stepped inside and followed a set of stairs to a basement. The steps seemed to vibrate with the noise of raucous jeering and deep laughter as she grew closer to her destination. She ignored the curious glances she received as she passed a few more men on the stairs and tried not to crinkle her nose as the hefty smells of intermingled tobacco, booze and sweat entered her nose. Normally, those smells didn't bother her, but there was something about smelling it here that made her stomach curl a little.

Finally, she stepped into the room that held a corral of men around a flimsy wooden barrier. A scowl alighted her face as she caught sight of who was inside the barrier. Howard's head snapped to the side as he took a right hook before he danced away. He was taking more hits than making any swings which only made Elena scowl harder. She quickly scrutinized his form as he danced away again. He had removed his shirt for the fight and she could clearly see the bruises that were beginning to form on his torso. It made her nervous and annoyed because she knew he had taken those hits on purpose. Whether he admitted it or not, Howard seemed to get some sick satisfaction out of being beat to a pulp. She blamed his brute of a father for this quirk.

Turning to her right, she made her way to the makeshift bar the underground brawl room hosted and tossed a few coins to the sudo barkeep for a glass of whiskey or rum or whatever was on hand. It was only when she turned back to the fight that Howard spotted her. She nearly smiled grimly as he winced – he knew he was in for an earful. His fight didn't last too much longer – he stopped messing around and finally landed a few hits much to the astonishment of the crowd. The man he was fighting had much more muscle on Howard, but her cousin was quicker. He took another hit, before he managed to knock the other man down to the ground. She wasn't sure if the fight was declared over, but there was a sudden loud barrage of yelling and her view of the ring and cousin were blocked for a few moments. She downed the rest of her liquor and moved around the crowd to find her wayward cousin.

It didn't take her long to find him as he sat slumped in a corner. He had his shirt in one hand and was speaking rapidly to a strange hulk of a man as he glanced about. More than likely he was looking for her. Her eyebrow raised as she watched the man try and pass a small bag to Howard before her cousin waved him off with a few more rapidly spoken words.

"Not going to take your winnings?" She drawled lowly as neared him.

Howard shrugged as he wrestled with his shirt. His movements slow and staccato-like belying the amount of pain he was currently in and she was in no rush to help him, "There's a guy that's fighting next – he's interesting."

Elena frowned in bemusement, "You're betting on someone?"

"Sorta..." Howard grunted as he managed to get one sleeve of his shirt on, but gave up on the other, "Just making sure he gets something when the fight's over."

Her frowned deepened as she looked over the makeshift barrier at the next two men preparing to fight. Her eyes widened as she noted the marked difference between the fighters. One was a moderately tall man with a lean muscular body – she couldn't see his face, but she wasn't much interested as she ogled his arms for a moment. The other man was huge. He reminded Elena of the purported Strong Man that she and Howard would see at the carnivals they went to as children. He even seemed as giant to Elena now as the carnival worker had when she had been much smaller. Horrorstruck, she murmured, "He's going to kill that man."

"Doubtful." Howard muttered as he slumped against the wall, too tired to try and finish putting his shirt on now. He just wanted to rest for a few minutes.

Elena eyed him in exasperation, "You're an idiot."

"Birdie..."

"One of these days, I will find these people carting out your dead body."

"At least, you don't find me unconscious anymore."

"I'm sure if I had arrived 10 minutes later I would've." Elena muttered darkly, as she finally gave into her urges to check his wounds. Quickly and gently she tilted his face into the light to see how badly bruised he would be.

Howard smirked knowingly as he watched her, "You always did ruin my fun."

"You know, I'm beginning to think you enjoy getting punched." Elena said dryly as they fell into their same old routine.

"Beginning?" Howard snorted as he looked glumly back at the ring, "Sometimes you just need to hit something, Birdie. Makes all the difference."

"You're still an idiot."

The boisterous din of the underground brawl room suddenly got much louder and both Howard and Elena looked towards the ring to see the smaller man dragging himself up by the barricade. Blood spilled down the side of his face and Elena gasped as she met steely blue-grey eyes. Despite his ruffled and ruin appearance she couldn't deny his attractiveness. Though he wouldn't remain in that state if he took any more blows to the face.

Howard chuckled lowly as he watched Elena's concern branch out to the stranger in the ring, "Don't worry, Birdie. He puts on a good show."

"Funny, that blood doesn't exactly look fake, Howard." Elena murmured as she cast another look toward the ring and the gargantuan that was barring down on the other fighter.

Howard smirked and resumed tugging at his shirt, "His name's Bobby or Buddy or something. He's one of the better bareknuckle boxers I've seen. I don't think he has much money – it's why he fights. Came in last month and I could see the poor man's ribs. He usually comes out on top."

"Usually." Elena shook her head as she looked over the rest of the crowd, "None of these men have much, but I wished they'd find a better way to make money. Doctors bills aren't kind to these types of wounds."

"That's if they actually go to a doctor."

Elena felt her stomach sink with those words. How many times had they neglected to take Howard to a doctor after one his father's discipline sessions? How many times had these men simply ignored their broken bones to save the few pennies they had made from a fight? She hated this. Biting her lip she didn't look at the ring again as she pulled the other half of Howard's shirt around and helped him slip his arm into the sleeve, "You're pathetic."

"Pathetic and an idiot. I'm really runnin' the gamut tonight." He had to force himself not to quirk a grin at Elena's glare. She may scare others, but he knew his cousin, "How'd you know I'd be here? Why are you here?"

"You missed dinner."

"Ah, a mortal sin."

Elena rolled her eyes, "Just because I've been spending a lot of time on my schoolwork doesn't mean I've been oblivious to what you rant at me." She frowned worriedly and brushed some dry blood from his cheek, "I know you. I know what's been going on at the company. I know what the board and Uncle Leo have told you. Plus I saw mother today -"

Howard's eyes widen comically as he suddenly sat up straight, "You saw Aunt Vitoria and you're just now telling me?"

Elena sent him a dry look, "Well if you had come to dinner, like you were supposed to – especially since that's where she ambushed me."

"Ah, it really is a mortal sin. What did the old hag want?" Howard asked almost jovially.

As she opened her mouth to respond another loud cheer erupted through the room, but this time Elena didn't see anyone dragging themselves into standing position. The gargantuan stood off to the side looking pleased, but she couldn't see his opponent. She was just a few steps away from the barrier before she realized she had even moved. She glanced quickly behind her to see that Howard had the same concerned glint in his brown eyes as she had in her stomach. It was only when she neared the edge of the crowd that she saw the blue-eyed fighter being helped to a bench.

Later, Elena wouldn't be able to recall what exactly possessed her, but she somehow had managed to get a bottle of whiskey and a wet rag from the bartender before appearing at the stranger's side. She could already hear Howard mocking her bleeding heart as she did so. She paused for a breath as she quickly studied him. He was younger than she expected. Closer to her age...She didn't know why she was surprised. Most of the men in here were in there early twenties.

The man had a dazed look on his face as he reached up to touch the nice gash that was gushing on his forehead – wincing as he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

"That was stupid." Elena commented as she caught his gaze. She honestly had no idea what she was going to do as she approached him – falling back onto her usual role of protective lecturer was most easy in that moment. And the most comfortable for her as well.

He started in surprise at the sound of her voice, before easing a chagrinned smile to his lips that she guessed was meant to be charming, "Yeah well, had to see how bad it is."

"I was talking about fighting the walking skyscraper." Elena murmured as she tilted his head back much the same way she did with Howard. Except, Howard's chin wasn't scratchy with evening scruff and didn't cause tingles to travel up her fingers. Her cousin had a few small cuts, but the gash on this man's head would require stitches. She frowned darkly before she pressed the rag against his wound.

He hissed at the sudden sharp pain from her attentions and almost glared up at her, "Yeah well, it was good money."

"You lost." Elena pointed out unimpressed as she silently passed over the bottle of whiskey.

"Had 'im on the ropes." He took it almost suspiciously, though it only took him a quick second to get the bottle open and take a pull, "Who're you?"

"Concerned citizen." She replied blandly as checked to see if the bleeding had stopped, "You should get this looked at."

"I'll be fine." He muttered a little too quickly as he smiled slowly at her, "Though it's nice to have a pretty lady looking after me. You wouldn't happen to be my guardian angel would ya?"

Elena felt her lips twitch with amusement as she tried to stifle a smile, "Sorry, can't say that I own a pair of wings...More partial to horns anyway."

The man nearly choked at her words, before grinning slyly, "Yeah? Nice dame like you?"

"Dame? I'm not royalty." Elena retorted as gestured for him to put his hand on the rag. She glanced over toward Howard to see how If you would like to be tagged in my stories please add yourself to the taglist linked in my bio!!he was doing and nearly snorted as she saw him half-asleep against the wall.

Her new ward followed her gaze and raised a brow, "He your beau?"

Now it was Elena's turn to choke a little as she shook her head, "No, my idiot cousin. Apparently, he felt the need to get punch drunk as well."

She felt more than saw him nod, "I've seen him in here before – never takes the money."

"Hmm."

"Somehow, the guys that fight after him always get that dough." He continued on as he studied his guardian angel's carefully blank face, "You two aren't from around here, are you?"

Elena shrugged, "Depends on what you determine as 'around here'. I should be getting back to him. Take care of yourself..."

"Bucky." He supplied with twinkling eyes – though whether that was from his concussion or not, Elena couldn't guess.

Yet, the name made her pause, "You're joking."

He shook his head, before shrugging, "What's wrong with Bucky?"

"It's a child's name."

"Well I did receive it when I was a child" Bucky pointed out, silently delighting in the muted exasperation in her ocean blue eyes. He had no idea who the woman standing before him was, but he wasn't one to deny the attentions of a beautiful stranger. If he could keep her in engaged in their strange conversation for as long as possible, the better.

"I would say you're not still a child, but I just watched you tousle like one." Elena returned as she smirked at the indignant look that flashed across his face.

"I'm beginning to see those horns you were talking about." Bucky murmured as he pulled the rag away from his head and smiled ruefully at her.

Elena couldn't help, but laugh, "Oh, trust me, this is me being nice. Besides you can't tell me that's what you get the girls to call you."

"How do you think I got this name?" Bucky grinned wickedly, his insinuation more than obvious.

A curious thrill traveled up Elena's spine as she gazed at him, "Now, I know you're joking."

"James Buchanan Barnes. That's my given name." Bucky said sagely as he gave her a pointed look. As if challenging her to find something wrong with his full name.

"So Bucky came from Buchanan, then"

He shook his head firmly destroying any notion that Elena had on his name. A small smile that she couldn't quite identify fell across his lips as he quietly explained, "My dad. He called me Bucky – said I bucked up his day and it just seemed to stick."

"Oh." Elena said quietly as she felt herself soften at the cherished memory. She hadn't missed his use of past tense either.

"No one really uses my given name." Bucky continued as he ignored her sudden understanding glance

"They should, it's a nice name." She met his gaze with a small smile, trying not to blush as his grin turned cocky. She couldn't remember the last time a man had made her blush just by talking.

"You think -"

"Birdie."

Bucky and Elena looked up to see Howard ambling towards them, looking far younger than his eighteen years. Elena for her part, rolled her eyes when she saw that his attention was more on the buttons of his shirt than the conversation he had interrupted. His swollen fingers fiddle with the small piece of plastic, unable to get it through the hole. He finally looked up blearily, "I'm tired."

"Oh?" Elena drawled sagely as she quirked a brow, "Did getting beat to a pulp wear you out?"

Howard scowled, "Don't patronize me."

"He calls you Birdie, and you have a problem with Bucky?" Bucky stated in disbelief as he watched the cousins.

"I don't tell people to call me Birdie. He's the only one that can get away from it." Elena retorted as she watch her cousin analyze the man beside her.

"This is true. The last person to call her Birdie, who wasn't me, ended up with a black eye." Howard stated sagely as grinned winning at Bucky, "You look like a train wreck, no wonder my cousin likes you."

"Howard!"

"She goes for train wrecks, huh?" Bucky asked curiously as he sent her a teasing smile as she glared at him.

Howard shrugged, "I don't think she can help it. She's studying to be a nurse."

"And I'm going to wait in the car." Elena muttered as she watched the boys become quick friends.

"You don't have the keys."

Elena pulled her hand from her purse, "You mean these keys?"

Howard quickly patted his pockets to find that his keys were indeed missing, as was his wallet. He scowled at her, "Thief."

"Brute." She turned with a nod toward Bucky, "It was nice to meet you, James."

Bucky had eased himself into a standing position. Not sure what to do, but knowing that he didn't want her to leave just yet, "Wait, I didn't get your name."

Elena merely smiled slyly at him as wandered to the door while Howard chortled lowly, "Sure you did. It's Birdie."

Bucky blinked as he watched Howard saunter after Elena – not really sure if he would ever see the two cousins again or at the very least if he would ever see her again. They seemed to disappear from the brawl room as quickly as they had appeared to Bucky. So lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't notice Mac approaching him. The older burly man was the only one trusted to act as bookie during the fights. He knew the amount of each purse and who was to get what. His presences wasn't unusual, but the fact that he was approaching Bucky that night was.

"Hey Mac, you getting' busy over there?" Bucky asked as he finally noticed the large man standing next to him.

Mac shook his head, "Same old grind, Buck. This is for you."

Bucky frowned as the bookie held out a leather purse to him. He hadn't expected to win much of anything that night. His opponent had kicked his scrawny ass, after all, "What's this?"

"That rich kid you were talkin' to. It's his winnins from his fight. Said to give it to whoever lost the next one." Mac explained as he pushed the purse at Bucky again, "That would be you."

Hesitantly, Bucky reached out for the bag. It was heftier than he thought it would be. Not much was usually put into the fight purses. He glanced quizzically at Mac, but the older man had already ambled back to his corner of the brawl room. Curiously, he tugged open the purse to see a note laying on top.

Elena Marie Turner.

He smirked as he twisted the paper between his fingers and wondered when exactly when she had the time to slip the note in there.

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[need-a-fugue]

We Grow Together (6)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Summary: Relationships can be tough, especially when one person is a recovering-from-being-brainwashed-and-tortured former assassin and the other is an overworked mutant scientist. But hey, every couple has their struggles. Right?

Warning(s): some angst, some emotional and mental turmoil… some bad language words… much fluff

Chapter Summary: A successful mission means... revels! 

“You’re lucky Helen was here,” she snaps at Tony as he enters the med room. He hands a green drink to Clint, who’s still lying back on the table as the portable regeneration device heals his torso.

“I’m lucky?” he says, grinning at her.

She turns on a heel and stares him down, thrusts a pointed finger in his face. “I told you when you first assigned me here, I am not a clinician.”

“You’re doing great,” Clint tells her, the pain meds making his voice just a little lighter and a little more enthusiastic than normal.

She gives him an incredulous look. “If Dr. Cho hadn’t been here to demo this… this… thing,” she says, waving her arms to indicate the contraption in the center of the room, “you’d be dead.”

“Was that a threat?” Tony asks, clearly amused by her anger.

“I’d have been fine,” Clint says as he sucks down his juice. “You’d have saved me just like you did before.”

She closes her eyes and tries for a deep, cleansing breath, which is surprisingly easy to do now that her nose is completely healed – thank you Helen for demonstrating the device’s effectiveness on me. “You would have needed surgery. I am not a surgeon.”

“You dug that bullet outta me just fine,” he says, referring to their adventures in Minsk a few years earlier.

“I dumped some vodka on your arm and dug around with my fingers until you passed out from the pain.”

“But eventually, you got the bullet out and I was saved.”

“There,” Tony chimes in. “See? You’re a hero. The greatest doctor we could ask for.” Dr. Cho enters the room and quietly slides over to Clint to check her machine’s progress. “And now that we have this fancy-shamncy… thing, you don’t have to worry about doing surgery. Or not doing surgery.”

“This is still a prototype,” Helen tells him softly. “We know that cellular regeneration is possible with the cradle, but how much… how far this technology can go, we don’t know the answers to that yet.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now that we’re working with U-Gin and we’ve got two of the greatest minds on this,” he says, waving his hand to indicate both Helen and Tessa, “it’s only a matter of time before we revolutionize the medical field.”

“It scares me when you get like this,” Tessa mumbles.

“We’ll have one in every trauma center by 2020.”

Helen raises a single brow as she continues to evaluate Clint’s vitals. “That’s ambitious.”

Tony’s face splits into a wide grin. “That’s my middle name.”

“Really?” Clint asks, his face wrinkled in confusion. “I always thought it was Gary.”

“What?” Tony turns on him as Tessa snorts out a laugh. “Edward. Why would you think it’s Gary.”

He shrugs as best he can in his current position. “You look like a Gary.”

“Wait… so it’s not Ambitious?” Tessa asks with furrowed brow. “You’re middle name is Edward? How boring.”

Clint slurps down the rest of his drink. “Gary would have been better,” he mutters absently.

“Right,” Tony starts, thrusting himself upright. “I hate all of you. Also, we’re setting up for a party tomorrow.” He turns to leave, calling out as he goes, “You all will be there.”

000

Tony’s parties were, simply put, the best. Even the business affairs – the parties that required mingling with rich old men and straddling the line between bragging about scientific breakthroughs and giving away detailed research data – were designed to be fun. The drinks were always plentiful, the food exceptional, the decorations impeccable, and the guests companionable. There were many things that Tony Stark was great at, but in Tessa’s estimation, throwing together last-minute celebrations was his greatest strength.

“Really?” Bucky sits idly on her bed as she explains this to him, her back turned as she rifles through her closet.

“Yes, really.” She reaches in the back and pulls out a deep burgundy cocktail dress with thick straps and a triangular cutout in the back. “You’ll have fun. I promise,” she tells him, spinning herself around and holding the dress up for him to see.

He raises his eyebrows appraisingly, but seems less than impressed. Or convinced. She moans and thrusts the dress back into the closet. “I just don’t like being around a lot of people,” he tells her shyly.

“It’s not people,” she explains. “It’s me. And Steve. And –”

“Everyone else, plus some.”

“I don’t want to sound like an asshole here…” She turns to face him, two more garments now draped over her arm. “But, get over it.”

“Get over it?”

“Yes. Get over it.” She flings the dresses onto the bed next to him and he has dodge the wooden hangers as they narrowly miss his face. She marches over, rather dramatically, and stands in front of him with her hands on her hips. “I didn’t want to go to Mexico. But I did. I didn’t want to take a day trip to Coney Island in the middle of January. But I did. I didn’t want to do that thing last week. But I did.”

He reaches up and slips his fingers beneath hers on either hip. “I thought you liked that thing,” he says with a mischievous grin.

She rolls her eyes and, bringing her hands to his shoulders, gives him a rough, playful shake. “That isn’t the point!”

“Okay, okay,” he relents, laughing as he pulls her to him. He wraps his arms around her middle and rests the side of his face against her ribs. “I’ll go,” he mumbles into her shirt.

Her hands are still resting on his shoulders when she says simply, “Thank you.” She tries to push him away then, but he doesn’t let go, too content in holding her close and listening to the steady beat of her heart. “James,” she tries, when he refuses to loosen his grip. She digs her thumbs into his shoulders and tries again to push him away, wiggling her hips as she moves. “Jamie,” she whines, smile perking the corners of her lips.

“No,” he says, petulant quality to his voice.

“Uuuugh,” she sighs, dropping her hands and stopping her struggle. Then, with a chuckle, “You’re impossible.”

He tightens his grip for just a moment more before twisting his face so that he’s looking up at her. “If I don’t have fun, I’m bringing you right back here. And we’re doing that thing again.”

She presents her right hand to him, ready for a handshake. “Deal.” He drops his arms from her middle, shakes her hand firmly, and lets her escape back to the closet. “Now go ask Steve if you can borrow something pretty to wear.”

By the time Steve finally convinces him to wear the red button down instead of an old – and torn – sweater, and they make it upstairs, the revels are in full swing. He sees her immediately, but doesn’t chase her down just yet. Instead he takes the beer Steve offers and half-heartedly listens to the rest of his friend’s story as he watches her from afar.

She’s talking and laughing with Natasha and Bruce, though Bruce doesn’t look like he’s having much fun. The man is bright red and ducking his face in obvious embarrassment as Tessa gets more animated. Whatever story she’s telling the pair is greatly amusing the Widow. Not so much the doctor.

Bucky leans against the wall, continuing to gaze across the room. Tessa’s wearing a tight black pencil dress that traces the lines of her body – from her knees up to the gentle cure of her hips, up alongside her ribcage. From his vantage point, he can see the shimmer of the gold zipper that runs from the base of her back to the base of her neck. And he’s desperate to yank it down and peel the fabric back.

“Buck?” he hears Steve say. Swiveling back to his friend, he raises a questioning eyebrow. “Are you listening?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head and taking a long pull from his beer.

Sam snickers next to them. “At least he’s honest.”

“I was telling you about the mission,” Steve complains.

“Yeah, but we weren’t there, so we don’t care,” Sam responds.

Bucky gives him a tired look – “I didn’t say that” – then turns to Steve. “He doesn’t speak for me.”

“Okay, well –” he says, trying to continue with his story.

“Actually, now I am saying it,” he tells him, raising a single, silencing hand. “I don’t care.” He pats his forlorn friend on the shoulder and makes a beeline for his girl.

He tries to skirt past Stark and Thor as he approaches the bar, but Maria Hill stops him before he can reach the other side where Tessa’s standing. “Sargent,” she nearly exclaims. “You’re actually at a party. And all cleaned up.”

She sounds impressed, but Stark is less than enthused when he mumbles something akin to, “That’s cleaned up?”

“I was just telling them a War Machine story,” Rhodes chimes in, obviously eager to try the tale out on someone new.

“Where’s Tessa?” Maria interrupts before he can get started.

Bucky’s about to point across the bar at her and then politely excuse himself, but – “Yeah, and Pepper,” Rhodes says, “She’s a no show?”

“And Jane? Where are the ladies, gentlemen?”

Stark and Thor make excuses for the absences, bragging openly about their better halves, while Bucky attempts to back up and move around the group unseen. But there are too damn many people at this party and he’s penned in. As he turns to the other side in search of an escape route he hears Hill cough out what sounds like “Testosterone.” When he looks back, she and Rhodes are eyeballing an opening in the crowd, hoping to sneak off as well.

“But Jane’s better,” Thor leans in and tells Tony.

Which prompts Maria to turn to him. “What about you, Sarge? You want in on this?”

He gives her a quick look, then turns his gaze to Tessa, who appears to be moving off into the crowd. “Sure.” He clears his throat, finishes his beer, and sets the empty bottle on the bar. “My girl’s a brilliant geneticist and the lead physician for Earth’s mightiest heroes. She’s beautiful and talented, smart and funny. And she can deflect bullets.”

“Wait, what?” Rhodes chokes out as Bucky finally finds an opening and steps out into it.

“And she’s actually here,” he tosses over his shoulder. “So I win.”

Thor grins as he walks off. “I like him,” he says with a small chuckle. “He’s spirited.”

“Like a horse you need to break,” Tony mumbles.

He dodges through the crown, issuing mumbled apologies to those he bumps as he goes. “Tess,” he says, reaching for her arm as she’s about to head downstairs. “Hey.”

She turns to face him, nearly tumbling backwards down the steps when someone accidently nudges her as she spins. He wraps his fingers tightly around her upper arm to steady her, and almost immediately winces, realizing he’s grabbed her too tight. He tugs her to him and drops his hand, watches as she brings her fingers up to absently rub the red marks he’s left. “I was wondering when you’d get here,” she says with a smile.

“Sorry.” He mumbles the word as he leads her off to a corner, then he gingerly touches her arm to inspect the blossoming bruises. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you’re really fucking late.” She glances down to her arm, then up at his worried face. “Oh… about keeping me from falling down the stairs?” She lets out a snort of a laugh. “Yeah, don’t worry ‘bout it.” And she brushes his fingers away.

He takes in a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’m late too.”

She’s still all smiles when he looks up at her and it makes his heart catch a bit in his chest. “I was talking to Helen earlier,” she starts, eagerly. “You would not believe the kinds of things they’re doing at U-Gen. She invited me out to tour the facilities and spend a few days getting to know the staff and actually work in her lab.” Her eyes light up like a toddler at Christmas and her voice rises in pitch as she continues. “I mean, I thought Tony was just looking into a new investment idea, like he always does. But this is… Well, look at my nose!” She pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger and works it around. “Doesn’t hurt at all! And no scarring!”

“Yeah,” he says with amusement. “I can see that.” He’s glad she’s excited, but the level of excitement seems a little crazed, especially considering that they’ve already spent most of the last two days talking about Dr. Cho’s research and advances.

“And Clint. Did you see Clint?!” She twists around to try and find the archer in the crowd. Her balance is shot almost immediately, and she throws a steadying hand out to his chest.

He catches it and laughs as he steadies her. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Psht, like two glasses of wine,” she tells him, turning back to face him. “Or three. With Nat while we got ready.” She furrows her brow. “Maybe four. I don’t know.”

He looks down at the drink in her hand. “And once you got here?”

“A few of these,” she says, bringing the martini glass to her mouth. “Just a few.”

“Just a few,” he repeats, shaking his head.

“Ah ha!” Tony calls out as he saunters over to the couple. “Found your girl, I see.” He turns to Bucky and in a low tone says, “She’s been blitzed for about an hour. Had to cut her off.” Looking at back at Tessa and at the drink in her hand, he asks, “How’d you get that?”

“Natasha,” she says, hint of challenge to her voice.

He hums in disapproval. “Well, guess that’s what you get for being late to the party.” He drops his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, causing the smile to completely disappear from the soldier’s face. “She’s gonna start puking in, oh, about 30 minutes.”

They turn their faces to Tessa in unison, watch as she downs the rest of her drink. “Probably,” she mutters.

Tony smiles, wide and wily. “Still think you win?”

It’s more like fifteen minutes before she barrels into the hall bath and blows chow all over the sink. Bucky flinches at the scene, but steps forward and holds her hair back all the same. At least he got her back to her apartment. When she finishes, he lets her hair down and she leans against the wall and slowly slides to the floor. “That was disgusting,” he tells her as he turns on the water and starts to clean the sink.

“Sorry,” she mumbles softly.

He raises the lid and the seat on the toilet and points at it. “Aim there,” he tells her before heading into the kitchen for a bottle of water.

He hands her the bottle when he returns but she refuses it. “Boot and rally,” she tells him tiredly. “I learned that in college.”

“Out of curiosity, is this the fun that you promised me tonight?”

She lets out a pained laugh. “You were late. If you’d been there sooner, you would’ve had fun.”

“I can’t get drunk, doll,” he tells her, taking a seat on the cold tile across from her. “Not like this, anyway.”

“Shame,” she intones, slipping off a single high heel and slowly moving her foot into his lap. She traces the inseam of his pants with her toe. “You wore real pants,” she observes. “Not just jeans.”

“You told me to put on something pretty.”

“Ha!” She throws her head back to laugh, banging it on the wall.

“Baby,” he sniggers, moving over to her side and cupping the back of her head. “You’re a danger to yourself.”

She looks up at him, eyes red rimmed and glassy. Her face is flushed and the goofy smile she’s wearing makes it’s hard for him to suppress the laughter that he’s trying to stave off. “I like you,” she says dreamily.

“I like you too. Even if you smell like vomit.”

She purses her lips and takes on a more serious countenance. “I’m going to throw up one more time,” she tells him. “But then I’ll be good. And I’ll let you do that thing.”

“I appreciate the gesture,” he says. “But I think you should go to bed.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” she teases.

“No,” he says with a laugh. “You throw up again if you need to. Drink this water. And then I’m putting you to bed. To sleep.”

She looks at him very seriously for a long moment before bringing her hand to his face, gently stroking his stubble-covered jaw. She tucks a few errant strands of dark hair back behind his ear and gives him a small, tender smile. Then she launches herself at the toilet and violently empties her stomach.

It may not seem like the best end to an evening, but they’re the only people in the building who spend that night in bed, sleeping peacefully while the building shakes and shatters around them.

[rambling-at-midnight]

Snowflakes Melt Too Quickly: Part 3

Sorry for the long wait, guys, but I’ve written pretty much the rest of this series. It’s going to have 5 parts! Hopefully the Peter Parker x Reader and Irondad/Spiderson stories I’m working on right now will get finished... sometime... eventually...

The Snow

Day 1859

A little over five years you and Five have been living in the warehouse. You’re both roughly eighteen years old (too many times you’ve both forgotten to mark the days off on your calendar, and neither of you have ever been able to agree on which months have 29 days and which have 30 or 31, so you’ve compromised by simply counting out each day of every year). You’re five years older than your mother ever got to see you be, and Five is five years older than he remembers his siblings being.

There’s something there to be said about the things you lost in order to survive the fire, and the things Five sacrificed without knowing he was sacrificing them. Forever his siblings will be locked in his memory at 13 years old. He’ll never get to see them grow and mature, he’ll never see them mess up, he’ll never see them joke and read and play the violin and do all the other boring, mundane things he had found so annoying before he’d jumped.

Survival had been etched into your DNA, an instinct you couldn’t deny that made you abandon that car and your mother, and even if it makes your chest feel tight every day, Five still gets to see you grow and mature. He still gets to see you mess up (like that time you’d eaten the rest of his food without asking) and read (your favorite book is The Fifth Wave by Rick Yancey) and hobble around, trying so hard to be independent and strong.

It was the once in a lifetime chance that you had run back into the warehouse. It was a one in a million chance that Five had showed up after the initial fire, or even in 2019 instead of going back in time or a million years in the future. It was a one in a million chance that you would dive under the desk and the printer would fall and knock you out, saving you from hours of suffering through brutal heat but being sheltered from the worst of it.

There were a domino of choices that led to you and Five meeting each other, and it still scares the hell out of you every day when you think about everything that could have gone wrong.

There haven’t been a lot of changes throughout these five years. You both still sleep in the same area. You both still wash in the girl’s bathroom because the boy’s bathroom door had been burned and melted shut.

The few changes that have occurred haven’t been major. You barely need your crutches anymore. Pain is only brought on by extended periods of walking or labor and Five makes sure you’re never on your feet for too long.

Five was able to jump as of two years ago, but not through time. The first time you’d seen that telltale blue light you’d panicked as Five had disappeared but he’d appeared behind you, looking thoroughly confused and annoyed. His abilities to jump through space are fantastic but unnerving, and all they mean is that when you start to run out of supplies his trips to get more are significantly shorter.

You’ve gotten taller and the burns on your arms have mostly healed. They ache a little and they sting when it’s especially cold out, but there is only mild discoloration. Your feet are better, too, and you can handle wearing shoes on them, but they’ll always be tender.

Still thinking about the fire makes your feet and arms hurt, and it makes your breathing quicken. The moon had exploded. You still haven’t worked up the courage to look at the night sky without the glowing planet that should have been ever-present in it.

Right now you’re walking around the warehouse, bored because Five’s out on another supply run. You’ve long since lost patience for the puzzles, because you’ve done each of them at least fifteen times. It’s tedious. Plus, you’ve read every book in the display, even the ones meant for five-year-olds.

Nobody said the apocalypse was going to be this boring. Whenever you read about it or watched shows and movies about it, there was always the group of survivors fighting desperately to keep living and fend off the rest of whatever had killed everyone else.

All it is is silence, empty rooms, and hard floors. That’s all it is because that’s all you can see.

“I’m back!” Five calls, appearing with a stack of books in his arms. “I got some new books, they should be interesting—”

“I’m going to take a nap,” you interrupt.

Day 1900

Five can’t figure it out.

He must have done something to you that he doesn’t remember, because you’re not talking to him at all. Whenever he tries to say anything, you always interrupt and say you have to go do something else. Most of the time it’s a nap. Meals are eaten in silence.

He’s even been ‘kicked out of the bed’; you insisted that someone was going to have to sleep away from the other to keep from waking the other up by snoring. Never mind that you’re the only one that snores.

Five hadn’t wanted to argue, so he’d just complied and dragged a few pillows into the parking lot. It’s a nice night outside; not too hot and not too cold, and the wind isn’t very hard either.

Five lies down on his back and closes his eyes, trying to think. Yeah, he can be a jerk. He hasn’t done anything recently, though, right? This doesn’t make any sense.

I mean, sure, it’s the apocalypse. It sucks. And sometimes he’s sick of you and sometimes you’re sick of him, which is what happens when two people are together 24/7. But you’re never like this.

Five sighs and opens his eyes. Then he blinks.

How could he not have noticed it? Five years in the apocalypse and he never once noticed something huge. Just because you and Five holed up in your warehouse day and night, he’d never noticed the absence of the moon?

How the hell has the moon disappeared? The odds are that it’s a new moon are low, and even if it was a new moon the sky wouldn’t be that bright, would it? So what the fuck happened to the moon?

Wait a second. Five remembers you’d mentioned the moon the day he met you, but he’d written you off as injured and delirious. How had he not followed up for five years what you’d meant?

So the moon had something to do with the apocalypse. ‘The fire’, Five’s heard you call it before.

The sky is stunning. There’s more stars than anyone’s ever seen before. With the absence of the moon and of light pollution from the earth, he can practically see every star ever. They’re littered across the sky like the flowers that would bloom every spring at the park across from Griddy’s in the spring.

You’d like to see this, Five knows. What he doesn’t know is if you’ll get mad at him for disrupting your sleep.

“Fuck it,” he mutters, getting up but keeping his head up so he can continue looking at the stars. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything like this before. “Y/N?”

“What?” you call from under your mountain of blankets.

“Come out here!”

“What is it?” you ask without moving.

“Just come on,” Five says, evading the question. “You’re gonna love it.”

“Just… what is it?” you ask, finally rolling over to look at Five, which he takes as a good sign. Once you’ve started to move, just like Five, it’s hard for you to fall back to sleep.

“Just come on!” he repeats, waving emphatically like he’s telekinetic and trying to move you.

With an exaggerated groan, you roll out of your bed and stand up. “Well, what is it?”

“Come look at this,” Five says, grabbing your hand to pull you out of the warehouse. “I can’t believe I never noticed before, but we always stay in the warehouse and I’m always in shelter when I sleep when I’m out, but this…” He points up at the sky. “Look, Y/N. It’s gorgeous.”

You look up. There’s no moon shining in the sky, which means everything is darker than it should be. The darkness lets stars shine through, though. You can see them all, lighting the sky up but not as brightly as the moon did, tinting the black into purple and blue. There’s too many to count freckling the night sky, but when you blink you can still see the moon exploding. You can still see the meteors raining down onto the earth.

You can still see your mother yelling at you to come with her, to get into that metal coffin, and you can still see the look on her face when you’d ran.

“Hey, Y/N, you okay?” Five asks, and you realize your breathing had gotten quite shallow.

“I saw it explode,” you say quietly, staring at the ground. The shadows are better than the infinite vastness of the universe. “The moon. I saw it break into little pieces.”

“Meteors caused the fire,” Five says, realization dawning on him for the first time in five years. Funny how the apocalypse can distract one from the technicalities of how it started. “It was basically the dinosaurs all over again.”

If you keep your eyes open, then you don’t see the exploding moon on your eyelids. It’s easier to stare at Five as he gazes at the sky, an undeniably awestruck look making his lips part a little bit. He’s almost as terribly beautiful as the stars (you’ve thought, a few times before, that Five sort of looks like a Greek statue—he’s got the stone-cold brooding look down pat, and his features are all sharp). He’s almost as blinding, especially when you run the risk of him noticing that you’re staring at him.

You’re eighteen, you realize, or close to it. There’s no one to enforce rules. There’s no rules, even.

“I’ll be right back,” you say and gingerly walk back into the warehouse.

This must have been what you felt like the first time I left, Five thinks.

You come back out with a wine bottle, and neither of you get drunk—in your opinion, it tastes terrible, so it must be an acquired taste that you have no intention of acquiring, and Five isn’t interested in dulling his senses. It did feel like a milestone, though, in the way that one feels they’re becoming more free, except there’s nothing for you to be freed from.

You do sleep next to Five, though, the closest you’ve ever been; never before have the two of you felt the need to share a bed, not even during the coldest nights of these lonely years. Five can feel something different in his stomach when he watches your eyes flutter closed. He can feel the electricity simmering in the air.

This changes something, but he doesn’t know what.

Day 3982

It’s been almost eleven years since the fire. You’re almost twenty-four years old. Five is almost twenty-four years old. He’s grown especially fond of coffee and alcohol, and you barely need your crutches anymore.

Two years ago the two of you left the warehouse, though Five made sure to bring string with him for a trail just in case anything ever happened. Even though the warehouse was unbearably dull after you’d read every book and finished every puzzle, it was still home to the two of you for about nine years. Maybe he’s too sentimental, but he faithfully ties the string around rocks and trees he sees just in case you ever want to go back.

You exhale and your breath clouds in front of your face. It’s cold. It’s been cold, actually; you and Five are pretty sure you’re heading north, but neither of you have a compass so you can’t really be sure. You’re both wearing heavy layers and have ski masks over your faces, hands encased in gloves and clenched together. Just in case, Five had said, but what could possibly happen when you’re the only two people left in the earth? What possible attack would you two need to fend off or protect each other from?

The truth is that maybe he just wants some comfort but hadn’t wanted to outright ask for it. The truth is that maybe you two are too dependent on each other after nearly eleven years of only having the other, of having no choice but to rely on and help the other, of being close enough to be siblings but the invisible wall you’d sometimes brushed up against had always kept you from being that close. You suspect the invisible wall is named Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Ben, and Vanya, and thank god it exists. You don’t want to be Five’s next adopted sister.

The truth is that you can feel the heat from Five’s hand through the glove, and it’s spreading throughout your whole body and flushing your cheeks. You hadn’t wanted to admit how you may like Five as more than a friend, but the attraction you feel for him is undeniable. If he was ever with you, though, you can’t help but feel like it would be because he has no other options. Isn’t that what always happens when two people are alone together? They inevitably end up together because humans just crave affection and if only one other person can give it, then they’ll trick themselves into thinking they love that person.

A snowflake blows into your eye, and before you’ve blinked it out a light snowfall is falling. You smile and stop walking to stick your tongue out. It took almost four years for the snow to lighten up, and even now a few flakes are still tinted grey. It’s still beautiful, though, to see them falling around, cloaking fallen structures and rubble so that they all look like people bundled up under the white blanket. It helps you feel less alone.

Five holds up his hands so the snowflakes can fall neatly onto his black gloves. He enjoys studying each individual crystal shape before his warm breath melts them. His favorite way to see the snowflakes, however, is on your eyelashes and in your hair. He thinks they make you look angelic. It’s ironic, because you’re essentially an angel that whatever higher power exists had protected and sent you down to keep him company for however long his powers malfunction. Or maybe he’s the angel that a higher power had sent to the apocalypse to keep you company.

Five breathes onto his gloves and the flakes melt.

Maybe each snowflake represents a reality. They’re all different. Maybe the ones landing on you detail a reality where the apocalypse had never happened, when you got to grow up surrounded by your loving family and not need crutches or have burnt feet. Maybe the ones falling on Five are the ones where, etched into every groove of the crystal, he didn’t get stuck in 2019.

Maybe each snowflake is you. Five’s never really met anyone like you, and you’re the one in 7 billion that survived the apocalypse. You’re just as unique as every single snowflake that’s ever existed.

He blows gently on a snowflake and watches as it melts into his glove. When he looks up, your tongue is still sticking in the air, your eyes closed. For once, there’s a blissful expression on your face. Normally you look so worried and serious.

Five realizes, with some surprise, that he’d like to kiss you.

Day 5584

It takes fifteen full years for Five to stop ignoring the feeling in his stomach when he looks at you, his strange protectiveness over a girl that’s as safe as the last girl on earth can be, and the way his mouth ignores his directions and tries to twist up into a smile whenever he looks at you.

Your eyes are on the most recent book you’d found, reading the description on the back. You’d said something about Vanya—Five’s heart had jolted at the sound of his abandoned sister; you’d seemed to understand he hadn’t wanted to talk about his lost life and not brought it up for years—and turned it over, and maybe it had something to do with the way your wind-tossed hair looked, or the way your face looked especially pretty after Five hadn’t seen it for days of wearing masks and hats to protect from the glaring sun, but he’d strode across the room, crashing his lips onto yours.

The hand holding the book you’d been interested in is caught between your two bodies, but you don’t seem to mind at all. You wrap your free hand around Five’s neck without hesitation, fingers tangling in the unruly hairs at the nape of his neck, and pull him closer. Inexperienced lips—shouldn’t be inexperienced, Five thinks feverishly as he drinks in your taste, breathing through his nose so he doesn’t have to pull away, will never have to pull away, should have been doing this all day for years—press against his own, chastely closed.

“Five?” you murmur, pulling away infinitesimally. “What’s that for?”

“I think I’m in love with you,” Five breathes back, proud of your breathless voice and wide eyes, smirking at the way you blanch.

Day 7329

You’ve been alone for the past day. You’d woken up and Five was gone, which isn’t crazy unusual, but most of the time he leaves a note for you. You’d searched all around for one, but there wasn’t. Either he didn’t leave one or it had blown away while you were sleeping.

While you may be a little worried, Five hadn’t woken you up to tell you he was leaving. He obviously knows he’s coming back.

You just don’t know when.

Without Five, there’s not much to do. You would go back to sleep, but it’s too bright to fall asleep, and the twinges of pain shooting up your legs from your feet would make it hard too. After days of walking, trying to find something fun to do (opportunities for that are extremely scarce in the apocalypse), your feet have been extra sensitive.

You sit down on a rock, hot from the sun glaring down on the barren earth, and start to stretch. Sometimes it can help your feet.

You’re reaching for your toes when Five appears again.

“Where have you been?” you ask through gritted teeth, hooking your fingers around your big toe to make the stretch more effective. “You didn’t leave a note.”

Five clears his throat, which you know is a nervous tic for him. It’s uncharacteristic; he’s almost never nervous, and he definitely wouldn’t be around you. You glance up, squinting from the sun’s glare, which makes it hard to see all of Five’s features.

“Y/N, we’ve known each other for about 20 years, and we’ve been together for exactly one thousand and seven hundred forty-five days, which is almost five years.”

You stand up so the glare isn’t blurring his features as much. It’s only then that you notice the small velvet box Five is holding out, hand trembling slightly, and in a fit of shock the only thing you can think is unsteady hands; he’d be a bad doctor.

“Now, I know you don’t have a lot of options,” Five continues. He sounds almost desperate, as if he really thinks he needs to convince you to take the box from him. “And by ‘a lot’ I mean ‘any’. But I’d like to think even if you had a million options you’d still choose me, because I’d choose you. So, even though there’s no one left to—”

You take the box out of his hand and open it. He must have been jumping to jewelry stores all day, because you know Five doesn’t settle, and it’s no coincidence that he’d chosen your birthstone to be the center of the ring. Twisted metal like vines make up the ring, and the stone’s practical but still large.

“Of course, this is just the engagement ring,” Five babbles when you don’t say anything, just stare at the ring for a few seconds. “I figured you’d like a normal marriage just like everyone else, so that includes an engagement ring and a wedding ring and I could jump you around to every intact jewelry store I can find if you want to get one for me, but if you don’t that’s fine too, and—”

You slip the ring onto your finger, admiring the way the sun glints off the stone and forms rainbows on the rubble around you. How can such beauty exist in such a terrible world?

“Oh, my God,” Five says with alarm when he notices your teary eyes. “I’m so sorry, Y/N—was it something I said? You don’t need to take the ring! We don’t—”

“Shut up,” you manage to choke out, nearly falling on him as you wrap your arms around his neck and squeeze. “Just shut up.”

Five hesitates before hugging you back. “Yes?”

“You’re an idiot,” you choke out in a reply, and he hears the answer even though you don’t say it.

Thanks for your patience, guys! School is picking up a little bit but lacrosse season is drawing to an end so I should have a little more free time from now on. I really like how the story’s turning out and I hope you do too! Stay tuned!

Umbrella Academy Taglist:

@fentanvl @deathswretch @lightningidiot @five-hg @iamsnek666@ameliatrh @ihatecheesyusernames @dora-the-grownup @emilyt0314 @idklol707

Snowflakes Taglist:

@campcampie

Five x Reader Taglist:

@statsvitenskap @dare-the-punisher @thespian-anon @ask-veronica-sawyer-heathers @fivegallaghers @ggclarissa @akiyamakuro 

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit

[ramblerwriter]

Jamais Plus

Jamais looked up at the mountain he had trekked to. Ash spurted from its apex, and warmth radiated upward in waves. He climbed up to one of the holes in the ground venting vast amounts of steam and slipped down into it. He felt around blindly, sight obscured by steam and managed to make his way all the way down to an open cavern. Smoke and steam coated the top of the chamber, and the floor jutted out over a glowing void that radiated deadly heat. Jamais stepped up to the ledge with no problem. He gazed morosely down into the glowing magma violently frothing below. Hopefully, this would kill him and let him stay dead this time. He desperately wanted to die, to join his beloved Raven, to finally cross the border into death instead of constantly being yanked back into the throws of life. It was frustrating and sobering to not be able to die. Surviving explosions, bullets, time, as you watch those around you become cold and still as stones. He didn't want to have watched his wife die. He didn't want to stay to watch his children do the same. Here he was, at the heart of a volcano, prepared to end it as his tears evaporated before they left his eyes. He slowly slid off his long, tan coat. It was enchanted to be indestructible; it would only hinder him. He dropped it and let it crumple beside him, stepping up to the very edge of the ledge. He closed his eyes and let the air out of his lungs, then fell, hoping the molten rock would incinerate all of his being.   Alesya had spent another day away from people. She had hung out with Ruben a bit, but mostly spent her time avoiding and scaring humans with her firey rage. She didn't really have a strong motive as to why she so fervoratively drove them away. They were a strange and rather charming species once she got over how they invaded, colonized, and took over her home. The thing that really bothered her was how fragile they were. Fire burned them, earth crushed them, darkness scared them, time killed them. Caring about their comings and goings would be as consequential as monitoring a nest of hamsters. And as she sat in the smoldering heat of her molten dungeon, lost in thought, a bit of motion caught her eyes. She looked up and saw a man crawl out of one of the open vents. That was new- humans could barely stand the heat, normally. And this human looked particularly sad. Steam was blooming from his skin, and more noticeably, his eyes. He was crying, and staring into her pool of magma. What on Katte was he doing? He removed his coat and let it fall in a dismal lump beside him without looking at it. Then to her horror, he stepped up to the edge of the overhang, and stepped off it. An ugly splashing, sizzling sound met her ears as the liquid rock enveloped the man. Upon instinct, Alesya jumped up, ran and leapt into the molten rock, reaching out to feel around the thick liquid. Something solid brushed by her fingertips and she lunged to grab it. Her fist wrapped around something that felt as if it were ceaselessly dissolving and rebuilding, leaving behind a powdery something. She pulled what she had grabbed up and out of the magma, dragging it onto solid rock. It was indeed the man, somehow still mostly intact. The casing of lava that had enveloped him split, spilling ash out onto the rock beneath. Alesya stared at the seemingly untouched face that lay beneath the white flecks. Confused, she reached for his arm, which had been incinerated up to the elbow. She peeled the glowing, viscous lava back and watched in fascination as his arm bled ash, rebuilding itself to near perfect condition. As the rest of the lava began to peel off, Alesya quickly went and retrieved his discarded trench coat and draped it over him to preserve the funny human's dignity. Then she took him by the wrists and began dragging him to a part of the caves more hospitable to his species.

Jamais was sorely disappointed when he woke up, finding himself alive and well. He was also confused as to why he wasn't at least caked in stone. Furthermore, he was laying on a rather comfortable sheet of rock, his coat draped over him and a pile of clothes to his right. He stood up, dressed himself, and looked around. He appeared to be in a less smouldering portion of the volcano. The walls were made of some sort of stone, and the cavern was rudimentarily furnished, and seemed to go on a bit. A woman entered the room, looking him up and down curiously. She had tan skin, amber eyes, and flowing rich brown hair. Her face was perfectly proportioned and her lips plump. She had a very pleasing shape to her that many women would covet. By all accounts, she was incredibly beautiful. Jamais didn't care. "Why did you pull me out? " He demanded. "Why did you jump in? " The woman countered. Jamais sighed.   "I thought it would kill me. " "And you wanted to die? " "Well, I willingly jumped in a pit of lava that I thought would kill me, so yes. " "Why? " The woman asked, staring straight into his eyes. Could he not be killed at all? Can he not even die of age?   "Because I CAN'T die. I keep regenerating. I thought that I wouldn't be able to heal if there was nothing left to heal. " He stared at the ground, folding his arms in front of himself. "You want to die simply because you cannot? " She inquired. "No, it's- " he paused,  "more than that. I had to watch my wife- my best friend- die. She was the world to me. " He put is his face in his hands. The woman's face transitioned from curiosity to understanding. "Everything you loved is gone, yet you are still here? " She summed up with the sorrow of personal experience. Jamais nodded.  "I know what it's like to watch your world crumble and unravel before your eyes. " She sat down beside him.  "It's a pain so indescribably... yours, that nothing could fill the hole it leaves right here." She pressed her fingertips to her sternum, drawing a bit of pain from the area.  "In case you're wondering, it never gets any better. " She told him.  "But it does become bearable. "

Jamais sighed, taking his hands from his face, but not opening his eyes for a long while. “Have you forgotten any of them?” he asked quietly.

“I try very hard not to.” She replied. “I sometimes do, but I’ve come to think of it as them not being in my mind, which can fill up and forget and break. They are in my heart, my soul, my very being. Who they were made me what I am today. In that way, they will never die.”

[uncannycookie]

Um, you take prompts right? If not just ignore me and know I adore your work times a ZILLION! You're probably the reason why I even consider Terumob. Anyway though. The prompt: would it be at all possible to see what happened between Reigen and Teru's mom when they were alone? Or was that just boring paperwork stuff?

Thank you so much! The next chapter of ANLG and I are still at war, but at least I can work on some prompts and pretend to be productive in the meantime^^

EDIT: It’s up on AO3 now as well, so here’s the link.

Devil’s Advocate

As soon as her son and his - friend are out the door, something inside Haruka Hanazawa’s chest instantly relaxes. Her fingernails stop burrowing into the skin of her forearm quite as deeply. Even though there is still a huge, trembling force inside her that makes it impossible to let go entirely, she immediately feels much less as if she’s choking on her own breath.

Just next to the sofa, close enough to the exit towards the hallway to count as blocking the path, Teruki’s lawyer stands with his hands in his pockets, eyes trained on her.

The tall man-child assistant is whipping his head back and forth between them and the door. When he spares a glance out the window, he jumps slightly and appears to begin sweating even more.

“Oh no, don’t,” he mumbles, clumsily rushing to the door, “don’t lean against the car please!” With his hand clutching the door frame, he leans backwards in the middle of his hasty retreat and blinks owlishly at the young lawyer. “Ah, uhm, do you need me here? Are we leaving now, or…?”

The lawyer lazily waves him off without looking at him. “Go ahead and prepare the car, I just have a few things to clarify still.”

His expression is neutral but still judgmental somehow. Haruka didn’t find him intimidating at all at the start, but now it’s suddenly impossible to even meet his cold stare head-on. She focuses instead on the assistant, watches as he scrambles out the door muttering to himself about cars and respect for other people’s belongings.

She laughs quietly into the silence after the door falls shut behind him. “What an interesting fellow. Is he a cousin of yours? Friend of the family?”

Because really, she can’t imagine someone that - slow - finding a job solely based on his own merits.

The lawyer shrugs. “Not at all. Former terrorist actually. Trying to turn his life around, but, you know how it is.”

It’s beyond terrifying that Haruka can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

She laughs anyway, more than a little put out with herself that it comes out jittery and uneven.

The lawyer notices too. One of his lower eyelids twitches. Haruka grinds her teeth into a sweet smile and finally lets go of her own forearm, hands dropping to her sides and relaxing. They’re almost not trembling at all anymore.

“Now,” she starts, glad to realize her voice is mostly back to normal, “unless there was anything else, I believe it is time you left me to clean up this mess.”

The young man still keeps his face an unnerving empty mask, but at least he breaks out of his eerily frozen posture and takes a few steps forward. “I would,” he says while he begins picking up the tray and cookies that were thrown around the room. “If I didn’t know for a fact that you’re focusing on entirely the wrong mess.”

Haruka stands still and watches. He dumps everything back on the coffee table, jangling the shards of glass that are lying there in a small pile. They’re glinting gently in the light of the evening sun and she decidedly looks away.

(The phantom feeling of glass and rough porcelain shards slicing through her skin is crawling up her forearm, right along that jagged collection of thin scars that she covers with make up every morning. Sounds of an angry child’s tantrum are ringing in her ears, she almost sees things being shot around the room again by invisible forces beyond her control.)

(Her arm is itchy. That cookie tray will have to be thrown out.)

The lawyer is no longer pretending to clean up. “You know,” he starts now, still rudely watching her with his arms folded, “I just remembered something. Maybe this will interest you.”

Haruka has to try very hard not to roll her eyes. “What a novel idea,” she says politely.

The lawyer tilts his head forward, his stare unimpressed and nearly disappointed now. “You know you’re not actually being subtle, right.”

“Oh? I am quite certain I was not attempting to be.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugs. “Anyways, there was this one kid at our neighborhood playground back then, she’d always steal everybody’s toys and destroy their sandcastles and all that, nobody liked her much.”

Haruka’s face feels oddly tight, as if her skin doesn’t quite fit over the expression she’s trying so hard to keep. All this is still going somewhere she does not want to be and there is little more than enduring and waiting for it to be over that she can do. “Children can be quite a handful.”

“Oh, definitely. Especially when they do things like, for example, take the plastic shovel that girl broke and hit her right in the face with it. And broken plastic can have some sharp edges. Actually cut that girl’s nose pretty badly.” He gestures at his own nose, wiggling his fingers up along the bridge. “See, I was being a little shit and getting carried away with everybody else’s opinion of her. Not that I meant to slice her face open, mind you, that part actually scared the living daylights out of me. But she was mean and everyone hated her, so of course it was fine for me to hurt her, right?”

She wonders if he is actually trying to intimidate her with this. If he’s maybe not aware that he’s been doing that in substantially more effective ways this entire time and really just ruined a good part of the effect by making her think about him as a little brat on the playground.

Her amused answering chuckle comes a lot easier to her now. “It seems to me that somebody simply failed to teach you a proper understanding of manners.”

And that, somehow, is what makes the man break out into a wide grin. “Funny that you would go ahead and make my point for me.” His hands are up in the air and flailing around suddenly and Haruka instinctively leans back a little, even though they’re not nearly standing close enough for her to get hit.

“I mean, to be honest, the situation alone was already jarring enough to teach me a thing or two, but some serious talks about violence and respect for others with my parents definitely helped as well. Now imagine how differently that could have gone if they had been too afraid to say anything. Too put out by all this unpleasantness to take action and make sure I came away from that whole thing with the correct lesson in mind. I wonder if enforcing the impression that this sort of violent behavior gave me power over others would have led to some screwed up perceptions of myself and my place in life.”

“Dear, I believe you are babbling.”

“Probably.” He snaps his fingers once and stops gesturing quite so frantically. “Here’s the gist of it: Your responsibility as a mother is more important than your moronic fears of things you don’t understand. And that kid becoming the little tyrant I suspect he was is entirely on you.”

Haruka can feel her smile wanting to slip into a grimace, to show her teeth and snarl some choice words on how much of the lawyer’s business any of this actually is.

But there are two angry, unpredictable espers and a mentally challenged former terrorist just outside and nobody nearby who could come to her aid in time.

The smile stays where it is. “You have made your opinion quite clear,” she says, proud of how she manages to keep an even, easy-going tone.

“Glad to hear,” the man says, whipping his hand through the air once again before pointedly holding out his palm towards her. “That’d be seven thousand yen consultation fee, plus one thousand to cover traveling expenses and fifteen thousand legal advisory fee, taxes not included, makes twenty-six thousand four hundred fifty total, cash please.”

And it’s not as if Haruka wasn’t expecting this, but the angry tremble in her fingers as she grabs the money from the sideboard next to her and shoves it at the lawyer is still hard to hide. “Keep the change,” she sing-songs through clenched teeth. “I hope your parents are very proud of the kind of person you have become.”

“They’re working on it,” he says, stuffing the money straight into his pocket and pointing rudely at her. “Which is much more than anyone could say about you.”

With the last of her cash crumpled up inside his pocket, the lawyer turns away and swiftly leaves her apartment.

It’s the overwhelming relief at his departure that clears Haruka’s thoughts.

Just enough for her to finally notice that he never showed her a business card or any other form of identification.

The dawning realization that he was most likely not a real lawyer is cold and furious. She closes her eyes, leans her head back with a deep breath.

“Fuck,” she says softly to the ceiling.

The smile is gone. It left an ache in her lips.