#posting the same thing twice but just. that phrasing has me perplexed

[eridan-ampora]

[jeonqukie]

PLAYING CUPID / 01.

SYNOPSIS / Consistently overshadowed by your older sister, you expect your days in high school to be filled with plastic smiles and apathetic peers with hidden intentions. Everything changes when four of the most popular guys in school join you and your best friend for lunch on the first day of school.

FEATURING / Kim Namjoon; appearances by Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook.

GENRES & TAGS / high school au, freshman reader, senior namjoon, student council president namjoon, best friend jungkook, lots of fluff, and some angst.

WARNINGS / Graphic and mature language, slight age difference/gap (to clarify, oc is 14-15 yrs old and namjoon is 17 - first part is rated pg); list will be updated as fic is updated accordingly.

WORD COUNT / ~10.3k

NOTES / I am a day late in posting this and I want to let you guys know that this is... not edited at all and I will be looking through this every now and then to correct any errors. But I hope you enjoy the first part of this series! I wasn’t expecting this to be relatively long, but it was all to set up the characters dynamics and the history behind the reader and Namjoon’s relationship. Any feedback is appreciated. To repeat, I’m so sorry this was super late. Please expect part 2 to be up in ~2 weeks. (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

All rights reserved © jeonqukie (formerly known as aiscka). All (or portions) of my work may not be reproduced, redistributed, reclaimed, translated, modified, or used in any way whatsoever without my permission.

“You’re Sena’s little sister, right?”

You’d be a damn millionaire if you made a dollar for every person on campus tried to break the ice with you. It was a severe understatement to say that your older sister was known around town. She was vice president of the student council, president of the debate club, and the best player on the varsity volleyball team. All of the teachers and faculty adored her, every girl wanted to be her, and every guy wanted to be with her.

For the longest time, you assumed your sister was a celebrity on campus.

You were so wrong.

It was because you never met him. You’ve heard his name so many times whenever your sister had sleepovers with her friends or when she was on the phone with a friend, whispering so softly into the receiver, afraid that someone would find out about that she had a crush on him. You were perplexed because you thought your sister was a very forward person; she had so much confidence talking to so many guys who desperately wanted her attention yet somehow her palms would sweat over him.

“Hey, you know who Kim Namjoon is?” You would sit at the cafeteria for the first time with your best friend, Jungkook, who had devoured half of his ham and cheese croissant sandwich. He looks at you and he would raise one brow.

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who’s obsessed with hyung.” But Jungkook sees the genuine confusion form on your face. You catch a glimpse of your older sister who sat on the other side of the cafeteria, thumbing a reply on her phone while her friend nudges at her when she sees the notorious posse that every girl swoons over.

It was a scene right out of a movie.

At that time, you had the faintest idea who they were, but you were quick to find out why they were so well known around campus. Jung Hoseok was the senior of the group; he was a dancer and was featured in numerous music videos by well-known artists and he had an extensive list of choreographers willing to work with him. Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin were inseparable; they were juniors who ran the school newspaper and the school yearbook – Taehyung being in charge of the photography while Jimin being in charge of the organizing the yearbook staff. Meanwhile, there was Kim Namjoon; student council president, valedictorian of his class, member of the honor society and numerous organizations on campus.

“Wait, you know who Namjoon is?” You were curious whether Jungkook knew of him, not exactly knowing the guy.

“Yeah. I mean, he’s been my next-door neighbor for god knows how long. His folks and mine go out for golfing twice a month.” You just nod to his answer when you are shoving a chocolate moon pie into your mouth.

But your mouth instantly goes dry when the four guys appear right across from you and Jungkook are seated.

“Gukie!” Hoseok exclaimed at the sight of Jungkook still devouring his croissant. “Look at you! Finally, you’re with the hyungs in high school.” The tease made Jungkook’s ears go pink and you feel your own face get hot; not because of second hand embarrassment, but because you can see everyone’s eyes on you – the two freshmen who had no right to be sharing a table with, what you can only assume, the four most popular guys on campus.

There were many times where people would only want to get to know you because of your sister; girls wanted to get close to you because you were had a cool older sister and boys wanted to be with you because they were so eager to come over to your place and obsess over Sena.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had no interest in her. As a matter of fact, you met Jungkook when you were in middle school and took a swimming class and later found out that you two were in the same class and bonded over your competitive nature in swim class.

“Who’s this? You got a girlfriend on your first day already?” You and Jungkook exchange a look of disgust with each other and create a sensible amount of space for each other to establish that you both see each other as friends.

“Oh my god, wait – you’re Sena’s little sister, right?” Hoseok corrected Jimin who had made the assumption you and Jungkook were an item. Jungkook can see the way you scrunch your nose from his periphery, and he decides to answer for you instead.

“This is YN. She’s… literally been my best friend since middle school.” Jungkook introduces you to the four people right across from you. “YN, this is Hoseok – well, I call him Hobi-hyung. This is Jimin-hyung and Tae-hyung. I’m pretty sure you know Namjoon-hyung because –”

“ – school council president.” You interrupt because you didn’t want Jungkook to reveal that you had been inquiring about him earlier. “I remember because you made that welcome speech this morning at the assembly.”

Namjoon is rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment and you resume eating your packed lunch, despite losing all appetite because you are surrounded by so many people did not know. They weren’t terrible people, but you weren’t mentally prepared for such strong personalities and dynamics to be introduced all at once. You felt like an intruder – a fly on the wall – because everyone carried on with their normal conversations; Jungkook and Hoseok were talking about plans for the weekend and then Jimin and Taehyung were already drafting out ideas for the yearbook. Meanwhile, you sat in silence as you ate your tuna salad sandwich, reading a new book you were gifted over the summer by your parents.

“Let me know when you’re done.” A voice catches your attention, and you stop all chewing. “The book, I mean.” Namjoon clarifies and he sees that you are already halfway done with it. “I read it a year ago and I’d like to hear what you think of it.” He offers you a heartwarming smile and you nod once, returning the same grin.

“I started it a week ago. I really like it so far.” The conversation is light and drowned out by the loud voices beside you.

You never really pinned him as a reader.

“So, how’s your first day so far?” He inquires and you honestly thought that the conversation was… over. Normally, that’s how all the conversations go when people find out your Sena’s little sister. They feign their interest in you and instantaneously ask about her.

“It’s… nothing special.” You admit, smoothing your fingers on the pages of the book. “Most of the classes I have before lunch, Guk’s with me. Now –”

“Now, her large, wrinkled brain is going to abandon me and get into those advanced program and honors classes.” You are rolling your eyes at your best friend who whines that you decided not to take the same classes as him.

“We literally have homeroom, social studies, and PE together and then we see each other for breaks and lunch. I think you’ll live.” The group laughs which earns quite a bit of stares from outsiders, but they seem to be completely unfazed by it. Everyone turns back to their own conversations and, usually, your social presence isn’t necessarily sought out by people.

It wasn’t until you hear another inquiry fall out of Namjoon’s mouth.

“What do you have right after lunch?”

“Biology.”

“Honors biology, by the way. Can’t you spare just one regular class for me? Or does your GPA really matter that much to you?” Jungkook complains and you are left ignoring his comments.

If there was one thing that your older sister taught you (something you actually agree with) is that colleges love a good GPA and joining as many clubs as possible. You even remembered how she’d phrase it for you; college admissions officers will cream their pants when you score that 4.0 GPA and do something out of the box from the rest of your peers.

“Or just get smarter, Guk.” Hoseok poked fun at Jungkook, earning a shrug from Jungkook. Namjoon, on the other hand, is smiling from ear to ear at the dynamic between the elder and the youngest of the group.

“Let me see your schedule.” Namjoon urges as he spots your clear binder which has your printed schedule on the cover. You push over your binder to Namjoon who is scanning your binder; he reads through your name, your birth date, the list of teachers you had for the semester and the classes assigned to you.

You feel indifferent about the sudden attention on you, especially from Namjoon; a mere stranger who everyone obsessed over was so piqued by you. You observe the way the corner of his slips curve into an impressive smirk as he glances over at Hoseok.

“Guess who we have for calculus at the end of the day?” He slides over your binder where the rest of the group examine the rest of your schedule, only for Hoseok to find a coinciding class with you.

“How the fuck are you in a senior’s class? Are you some math whiz or something?” Taehyung’s eyes widen at the sight of an advanced calculus class on your schedule. It was one of the things you were proud of you; you were good at math – it happened to be Sena’s worst subject and your parents often joke what she lacked; you had gained immensely.

“Yeah, YN’s cracked, hyung. I don’t understand. I remember in middle school they had to make arrangements for her to get into a pre-caclulus class or some shit like that.” Jungkook finishes his fruit cup and gathers all of the trash on site to toss over to the closest garbage bin.

Namjoon is sliding your binder right back at you, brows raised at you with the same grin he had on. He stares at you for what seemed like a long time – to you, it seemed like a long time and he is glancing back down at where your fingers brush against each other and he pulls away, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable.

“I – um, saw that you were taking orchestra too.”

You nod and chew on your cheek, self-conscious all of a sudden about your appearance because you are very much aware that Namjoon is examining every aspect of your face.

“Yeah. I mean, I already know how to play the piano, so I might as well learn how to play another instrument, right?”

“No – yeah, you’re right.” He stammers and he folds his hands together only to be interrupted by Jimin tossing over a bag of pretzels at Namjoon.

“Bell’s about to ring. Pretzels was all they had left. We need to head to physics soon.” Taehyung and Jimin are swinging their bags over their shoulders. Hoseok is too busy on his phone, showing Jungkook a video of his new choreography.

Suddenly, you are receiving a plethora of notifications in the depths of your jean pocket. Your fingers unlock your phone only to reveal a series of text messages from your sister.

Sena [12:29]: Did you just spend your entire lunch with Kim Namjoon?

Sena [12:32]: Earth to YN?

Sena [12:39]: GUK IS FRIENDS WITH ALL 4 OF THEM.

Sena [12:41]: You have officially made a fucking impression to this school. I’m so proud of you. You’re sitting with us at lunch tomorrow.

“Guess I’ll see you later, YN.” The bell doesn’t descend you back to reality. Instead, it was his voice that brings you to pack up your things into your bag. “You might want to sit at the back for Mr. Lu’s biology class; he’s a spitter.” Namjoon swings his backpack over his shoulder. “He reuses the same lesson plan every year. If you need any help with them, you know who to look for.”

As you’re swinging your own bag, Namjoon leaves you with a wink as he is exiting the doors of the cafeteria into the school hallways.

Now, you understand why the entire world was obsessed with Kim Namjoon.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Mrs. Kang, your calculus, is a middle-aged woman who didn’t look like she had aged past thirty. You found it incredibly hard to believe the woman was nearly in her mid-forties who had three kids of her own. She looked like a stern woman but had a good heart from what you remembered; she only wanted what was best for the class even though it meant tormenting them with a shit ton of homework. “I don’t need to go over the syllabus with you bunch. As you can see, this is a much smaller class than a regular class because not a lot of people pass this class.”

Silence fills the room from when you had first arrived. You were one of the last few people to find your seat because your class was all the way on the other side of campus. It seemed like everyone in your class were juniors or seniors. There were so many of them who knew each other from previous classes; they were all huddled in their own designated spots in the class, so you sat at the front of the class because all the seats at the back had been taken and it may help that you’re at the front because it’ll force you to pay attention.

“There’s a lot of material to cover and there’s only so much I can do. Since we’ve implemented the new block schedule, we’ll only be seeing each other for an hour and a half every Wednesdays and Fridays. First thirty minutes will be on new material, next thirty minutes will be spent on practice problems, and then the last thirty minutes will be working with your partner on getting your homework started. I’ve figured getting a head start on the homework for the last thirty minutes will be helpful just in case you or your partner are lost, you have me to ask for assistance.”

Someone’s hand raises up in the air out of your periphery.

Mrs. Kang points to them. “Yes, Namjoon?”

“How do we determine who are partners will be?”

“Please tell me we get to pick our partners.” Mrs. Kang is already turning her back to the class as she searches for a box that had been hidden behind her computer monitor only for her shake the contents of the box.

“The last time I gave the students the opportunity to choose who their partner was, I’ve written a disciplinary notice for academic dishonesty twice a week.” Mrs. Kang prefaced, and the room goes silent. As she continues ruffling through folded papers inside the wooden box, you are already aware of how the partner system is going to work.

Everything was going to be randomly assigned.

“We have 26 of you total which means there will be 13 pairs.” Mrs. Kang announces, and she walks around the class starting from the left where the person is picking a folded paper out of the box. Each person who had unfolded their paper sat patiently until Mrs. Kang had completed distributing the paired assignments around the room. She is fetching a pen and paper as she sits on her desk.

“Alright, our first pair is –” Mrs. Kang looks up to see two people raise their hands; it had been Hoseok and a girl with the prettiest bangs named Mimi. Mrs. Kang continued jotting down the pairs until you scanned the number on your own paper; a large 12 inscribed on your already tattered paper.

You hear Mrs. Kang’s voice as she calls out for the twelfth pair and you raise your hand. You don’t see anyone in your periphery raise their hands, so you turn your body around to search for your partner.

Your body turns cold and still, but you can feel your cheeks get warm at the sight of Namjoon seated down at the back with Hoseok with his hands raised, revealing that he had pulled the same number as you. The thumping in your heart is loud and it beats hard as each moment passes.

Both your hands lower and you are trying to turn your attention back to the front of the class where your teacher stood, but you can feel his eyes on you. You remembered scolding yourself, unaware of why you were so nervous and so shocked to be his partner – he saw you nothing more than another classmate; someone to help him with his assignments.

“Perfect! Since we have our pairs, everyone will be sitting next to their partner from now on; I don’t care where it’ll be. I just need you to sit with them, so we’re not scrambling at the last thirty minutes of class to find them.” Mrs. Kang says sternly, clearly not wanting to waste time in this class. “Shall we begin?”

“How do you already have so much shit to do?” Jungkook laid comfortably on your bed, shoving down salt and vinegar potato chips that your parents had bought from the store last weekend. “Do you like never take a break from reading or what?”

“It’s just a really interesting book.” You say as you flip through the next page and bite into an apple.

You two laid on your bed, basking in the afternoon sun. Normally, you two didn’t have this much down time. Last summer, you two volunteered to be camp counselors to lessen the boredom you two would endure. It was either that or spending every goddamn weekend on the golf course with Jungkook’s parents and yours.

“I was thinking of trying out for the track & field team.” Jungkook informs you and you resume reading. “Namjoon-hyung tells me that the team runs right after school and it sounds fun. Events are early though, and we all know I’m not an early riser.”

The mention of Namjoon urged you to reminisce back to your last period that day. Mrs. Kang mentioned that she wasn’t going to let the class immediately sit right next to their homework partner – thank god. You just wouldn’t know what to talk about with him; you don’t really know what to talk about with people because they always somehow led the conversation back to your older sister.

But, at the end of class, he did manage to keep up with you as you hastily packed all your items into the bag before you darted outside of the classroom. You planned on walking home with Jungkook and you two would meet at the front of the school. Namjoon, somehow, caught up to you in time.

He had grabbed your arm and greeted with you with his million-dollar smile. “Hey,” He breathes, and you stop to offer him a meeker and shier smile.

“Hi, what’s up?”

“You’re meeting with Guk?”

You give him a single nod before he hands you two pieces of paper. You’re curious as to what they are, and you see the words parent’s consent form along with the health forms to give to a doctor – for a physical.

“He’ll know what they’re for.” He reassured you and you hold onto the forms. “Thanks for that. I have to go; I have a meeting in five minutes with the student council.”

“I’ll be sure to give it to him. Was there anything else you wanted to tell him?”

He shakes his head, and he starts reversing his steps, clutching onto the straps of his bags. “I – um, I’m really looking forward for calculus – you know, the whole partner thing. I must be really lucky to be partnered with a cracked, math whiz like you.”

Now, you’re blushing because you weren’t really sure if you were supposed to be flattered or offended.

And he read you so well because he is suddenly panicking but he hid it. He stops his reverses, and he takes one step closer to you.

“I’ll see you and Guk at lunch tomorrow, if that’s alright?” He hums; his voice sounded so soft and clear to you – no one can hear a single thing he had said to you, but you heard him bright as day. Suddenly, you feel a grin creep up to your mouth and you nod once. You had regained some of your confidence back and Namjoon can see it. “Cool, well, I’ll see you ‘round, YN.”

“Earth to YN.” Jungkook snaps at you and you pay attention to your friend who is lying next to you. “Did you hear a single thing I said?”

“Sorry ‘bout that. I dozed for a couple minutes.” You admit and he scrunches his brows, dismissing your moment of silence.

“I was asking how it was like to be in a class of seniors.”

“There’s no difference, honestly.” You begin your thought. “It sucks just because I don’t really know anyone, and everyone knows everyone.”

“Yeah, but you have Namjoon-hyung and Hobi-hyung.” Jungkook reassures you. “They’re basically your friends now because we’ll be hanging around them a lot.”

You weren’t sure if you were looking forward to or nervous to be spending a lot more time with the older guys. They made a good first impression on you though; they’ve probably only mentioned your sister’s name once. Granted, it was only thirty minutes spent together, but it was so much better than most of the conversations you’ve had with everybody else.

“That’s true. I have Namjoon as my homework partner, so I’ll… definitely need to get along with him.” You chuckle under your breath as you read through each line without comprehending a single thing. Your mind had been so clouded with the idea of Namjoon and you weren’t sure why.

Jungkook decided not to stay for dinner that evening even though mom made two pans of lasagna to feed a village. However, he did help you and your mother prepare it. Your mom was pretty insistent on it, so you promise that you’d be giving him some leftovers for lunch the next day. Your dad arrived home next; it was a typical evening – he beelined to your mom, planted a kiss on her cheek and patted your back before he hastily moved to the office to continue working. Sena arrived home from school at a later hour than usual before she was already setting the plates on the dining table.

“Alright, Guk, final offer.” Your mother says as she is pulling out two piping pans of lasagna out of the oven.

“No, thanks, Mrs. LN.” He respectfully declines before he is swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Mom’s expecting me home right about now for dinner. I’ll definitely ask YN to pack me up some leftovers though.”

“Alright.” She waves him a goodbye before you are showing him to the door. “Walk home safely.” She bids him a goodbye softly as she pulls the foils off the pan.

“Pack me an extra serving, please.” Jungkook pleads and you roll your eyes before he already made his way out of the door.

“Honey, dinner’s ready!”

“You did not tell me Jungkook was friends with Namjoon.” Sena settles herself on the dining table and you sit right across from her, waiting for your mom to begin serving everyone a slice of lasagna.

“Quite frankly, I didn’t know Jungkook even knew Namjoon either. I’d say I’m just as surprised as you are, but I really don’t know what the fascination is with Namjoon.” You lied through your teeth as your mom serves herself first (she called dibs on the corner piece) and you decide on getting the smallest piece since you weren’t so hungry that evening.

“Are you talking about Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s son? Is this the same Namjoon we’re talking about right now?” Your mom’s curiosity is evident in her tone, taking small bites out of a side salad she had prepared.

“Yes, and Sena is hopelessly in love with him.” You shove the lettuce into your mouth as you wait for your lasagna serving to cool down momentarily.

“How can you not be in love with him?” She breathes out hastily. Your dad has his brows raised in disbelief; his daughter talking endlessly about her crush.

“He is a nice boy; responsible, kind, gentle, polite, seems to get things done, really cute too.” Your mom lists his never-ending advantages, and you stray away from their eyes because you hate the admit that you find him incredibly cute.

“Can we please talk about something other than this boy?” Your father is already exhausted from listening to you talk about Namjoon and you don’t blame him, really. “How was the first day for you, dear?” He refers to you and you are still chewing on your dinner.

“I have three classes with Guk. I like all of my classes so far; I can already tell calculus is going to be… a lot of work. We have a test every week and we mandatory study sessions after school for the exam to qualify for college credits. Thankfully, I have a partner to work with just in case I don’t understand anything. There’s also –”

“Who’s your partner? Maybe I know them.”

Your silence is defeating, and you look at your dad who is waiting for his answer and you dart your eyes back at Sena who is piecing the puzzle in her head, so she drops her mouth open, gasping at your lack of a response.

“No fucking way!”

“Language, please, Sena.” Your mom scolds.

“I mean, you’ve been in the same classes as him before! I’m sure you’ve been in a group project with him or something. You guys are in the same clubs. I don’t understand why you haven’t asked him out.” You weren’t so sure what motivated you to blurt it all out because your sister was definitely a good catch, but the obsession with him was getting way out of hand.

“That’s ridiculous, YN. I would never ask out a guy. I don’t even know he likes me that way.” Sena is taking small bites out of her dinner and you sigh to yourself, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “If there was only a way for me to find out. It’s not like I have a sister who’s partners with him in a class – oh, she’s also best friends with his next-door neighbor! How convenient.”

She eyes at you where you decide to focus on your meal, but her eyes are pleading and desperate.

“I… am completely eliminating myself from this predicament, Sena. If you want to ask him out for yourself, you should do it. Besides, who wouldn’t like you? You’re amazing.” Your voice is sincere and genuine, and you hope she pushes all of her fears and insecurities to the side to do something about her feelings.

“It would just be so much easier if I knew if he thought I was cute or something.”

“Everyone thinks you’re cute.”

“That’s not the point, YN. Listen, how ‘bout this? You don’t even have to drop my name in there; just ask what his ideal girl is like or something… or let Guk do the work! I’m sure he already knows the answer. Just help a girl out, please, YN.” You sigh defeated because your sister was really good at convincing.

It wasn’t really hard to figure out what type of girl Namjoon was interested in or… if he was interested in girls. All of this was easier said than done and you were going to rely on Jungkook a lot on this.

“I’m not going to prioritize this.” You surrender and she is giddy in her seat.

“YN, you are the best sister anyone could ask for.”

Several weeks have passed since you had last had your conversation with your older sister. You made an emphasis that you weren’t going to prioritize delving into Namjoon’s personal life. You were purely on a calculus homework and best friend’s next door neighbor relationship with him. But you finally get an idea of what Namjoon likes in a girl when he had to leave early for calculus to get pep rally ready for the first football game that Friday.

Unknown [14:34]: It’s Namjoon. Got your number from Guk.

For some reason, you feel your heart leap out of your chest at the text message. You’re still seated in calculus class working on the first few problems of your homework without him. You look up to see that Mrs. Kang is too busy assisting other students confused with the problem. Honestly, you were confused too and were unsure with your methods, but your mind had been too focused on your cellphone the entire time.

Namjoon [14:35]: Should’ve gave you the heads up about this. Sorry about leaving you alone to work. ):

You [14:36]: It’s no big deal. Seems like everyone’s confused, tbh.

Namjoon [14:36]: Fuck, mb. It’s the first game of the night, so I’m kind of required to be here. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.

Namjoon [14:37]: I have some down time after setting up. Maybe we can work on it then?

You [14:37]: Just tell me the time and place, I’ll be there. (:

Namjoon says that he had somebody covering his duties for the student council before the game began. You see him rushing inside a computer lab that remained open for students to use. You had reserved a table at a secluded corner because you wanted to be away from prying eyes. He spots you trying to reread your notes and erase the umpteenth method you had tried for a word problem you were stuck on.

He admires the way your brows knit together; lips pursed as you began redoing your method on a separate piece of paper. He keeps standing, not taking his place on the chair right next to you – too afraid that you would interrupt your flow. You feel a presence right next to you and he nearly gives you a fright and you realize just how tall he is.

“You scared me.” You inform and he chuckles softly at how endearing it was. He takes the seat right next to you where he is already pulling out notebook and pencils from his bag.

“I left my book at my locker. Do you mind if I share your book with you?” You look at your open textbook and nod at once pushing the textbook closer for both of you to see. “Thanks.” He scoots much closer than you had intended and when he strips his hoodie off of him, you can smell his cologne and how good it smelled on him.

You ignore your thoughts and scurry back to the problem you’re on.

“What problem did you end on?” He inquires and you point to the exact word problem you had been staring at for the past thirty minutes in class.

“It’s been bugging me. I didn’t want to ask Mrs. Kang because I wanted to figure it out myself.” You were so stubborn, he thought to himself. You had only completed a total of eight problems when there was so much more to do for the weekend. For some reason, you decided to stay stuck on that problem for god knows how long and Namjoon found it adorable – one of the few attributes he liked about you.

He reads the word problem and begins trying to solve the problem on his own. After several tries, he had figure out what you had done wrong and he so desperately wanted to point it out to you. Just when he was about to open his mouth, you turn to him and shake your head, covering your ears with your hands.

“No. I refuse to let you tell me what you did wrong. I can figure this out myself.” You whisper harshly. Namjoon can’t help but respond with silenced laughter because this is exactly how your homework sessions have been going; just the both of you refusing to let the other correct each other until the other figured it out themselves.

“Can I give you one clue?”

“Nope.” You popped your ‘p’ to accentuate just how persistent you were. You stuck out your lower lip as you examined the word problem again and he looked at the glossiness of your mouth and the softness of your cheeks; how he desperately wanted to lay his own petals right on yours as his fingers crawl to your face.

“So, I have a question.” He starts.

“And I can try to give you an answer depending on what it is.”

“Are… you and Guk by any chance – y’know?” His question is vague, but you definitely know what he is asking you because lots of people were never really used to the idea of a boy and a girl ever being best friends; for some reason, people assume they always end up dating and never talking to each other again.

“God, no. I love him, but I don’t love him like… I’d date him.” Your cheeks were fully flamed, and you weren’t so sure why you were so embarrassed to discuss this with Namjoon. All the times you had to clarify people on your relationship with Jungkook, you were almost disgusted and quick to reassure people that you two were nothing more than friends.

“Well, is there anyone you were willing to date?” Namjoon is pushing the boundaries here and he knows it very well. But he feels like he has gotten to know you well enough in the past few weeks to ask such a question.

“Not that… I know of really.” You try to remain composed when you respond to his question, but you feel his eyes burn into your soul, so you’re doing everything you can to avoid his stare. But Namjoon continues to stare right into you. He really can’t take his eyes off of you. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever really experienced what it’s like to be attracted to –” Just when you had mustered the confidence to look at him, he is quite literally staring so deeply into your eyes that it is taking your breath away.

He is making you eat your words right now; you can’t take your eyes off of him.

“You don’t know what it’s like to…?”

“I don’t what it’s like to be attracted to someone.” You sigh softly; your breath fanning him. “On the contrary, I don’t think anyone’s ever really been attracted to me.” A chuckle comes erupting from your mouth, shaking your head. “Fortunately, that’s not really my goal in high school.”

“You don’t know that.” He quips.

“I don’t know what?”

“If someone’s been attracted to you before.” You shake your head in disbelief, chewing on the inside of your cheek knowing fully well that he was doing this because he wanted to seem like a dick for not disagreeing with your self-deprecation.

“Well, what about you?” You pose the question to him. “From what I understand, most girls and guys I pass by swoon every time you pass by.” He is chuckling to himself this time and he is very much aware of his desirability among his classmates. “You have plenty of choices; I’m sure you have the opportunity to date someone you must really like at this very moment.”

“That’s what I’m hoping on. I’m just not quite sure how she feels about me.” You feel like you were unraveling his darkest secrets and you were happy he considered you close enough to reveal who it is or give an inkling to who it is.

“Do I know her by any chance?” You’re hoping that you can narrow down who he is interested in. Because you barely knew anybody, you knew this would be a piece of cake.

“Yes.” He replies simply and he is staring at you. “You know her very well, YN.” He sighs, hoping you would finally understand what he is alluding to.

“Is she in my grade?” You were really hoping that the answer would be no or else you’d be breaking some terrible news to Sena that evening after the football game.

Namjoon nods slowly and he can see how you are not picking up his hints. He sees the slight disappointment in your face for whatever reason. Suddenly, he is perplexed because, in his eyes, he has made it pretty clear who he was interested in from the get-go. Many people should make the assumption, too, considering there was only one person he had his eyes on – only one person he was giving his attention to.

“Is it… that girl in Guk’s class who –”

As you are trying to list out the girls in your class who has interacted with Namjoon, he is in complete disbelief that you have not figured it out at all. How much more clueless could you get? He is sighing now because is frustrated. He admires your persistence when it came to solving difficult word problems in calculus but it’s frustrating when you are unaware of his feelings for you.

Just when is about to confess his feelings for you, you are greeted with another presence calling for both your names.

“So, this is where you two have been.” Jungkook ambles hastily towards your table and you grin from ear to ear when he is taking out his algebra textbook. “YN, one last chance, please. I didn’t pass my last quiz which brought me one letter grade down and my dad’s going to make me quit track & field if I don’t –”

“I told you I’d help you over the weekend, dumbass. I’m busy getting shit done with Namjoon.” You breathe softly before he is hugging you on your side and you grunt at how much stronger he has gotten. “But you’re buying me coffee for a week.”

“Sick.” Jungkook simply replies before he begins unpacking some of his homework. “You excited for the football game, Namjoon-hyung?” Jungkook queries and Namjoon is baffled because the moment is gone. One interruption from his next-door neighbor and the moment’s lost.

“Fuck yeah.” Namjoon replies and he sees that you’ve suddenly lost interest in the subject. You were subconsciously listening on their conversation while you are back to resolving the complicated word problem right in front of you. “Will you two be going to the game?”

“I’ll go, but YN won’t go because she hates crowds and, honestly, she doesn’t know how the game.” You exhale in response to Jungkook’s statements. Namjoon observes that you decide to move onto another problem, wanting to tackle the word problem at a different time. “Everyone you know will practically be there. Why not give it a shot?”

“We usually have half of the bleachers reserved for the student council since we’re in charge of tickets and concessions, so it won’t be that big of a crowd.” Namjoon attempts to entice you with modifications to appease your concerns. “Plus, we’d all get to hang out with each other; no homework, no calculus talk – just… us.”

Jungkook is stunned to see you agree.

The night was a lot more enjoyable than you thought it would be. Namjoon waived off the entrance fee for the game the moment he mentioned that you and Jungkook were volunteers. Taehyung was already on the field taking photographs of the football players and cheerleaders while Jimin took photographs of the students on the bleachers. You even passed by your own sister who was busy with her own group at the entrance entertaining friends, families, and alumni into the bleachers. Meanwhile, Namjoon was overseeing every single aspect of the event; he was mainly at the concessions, not wanting to create so much traffic around it.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You offer your assistance before he notices that you have your hair all tied up. “I’ve washed my hands if that helps.” Namjoon can’t hide his smile and he offer you a pair of food safe gloves.

“I’m usually one to decline help, but we really need it. Let’s see – Yuqi really needs to go use the bathroom, so you can be in charge of the drinks and chips right now.” You take your station at the drinks and chips stations. It was going faster than you had expected; people ordered too fast or too slow – there was no in between. There were people who were very certain with their order which you appreciated. Then, there were the people who were very fickle with their order and you can’t help but stand awkwardly to wait for them to decide.

“I can’t believe you roped me into helping.” Jungkook grumbles under his breath. “Hey, I didn’t rope you into anything.” You take the five-dollar bill from the student and offer them back their change.

“Yeah, but you made me seem like a real asshole sitting there not helping.” You can’t help but laugh at Jungkook’s pout because you knew just how much he wanted to just spend his time on the bleachers, watching the game with his hyungs. But he was stuck here helping out the student council while most of them were on their bathroom breaks.

“Once someone’s back from their bathroom break, you can go back to your game.” You soothe him and the chaos outside the booth is starting to die down. Less and less people were coming because they’ve all satisfied their craving and the game was building up – it was pretty close, so you understand why Jungkook was in there sulking with you. When you turn to look at Namjoon, hoping to convince him to let Jungkook off the hook, you don’t see him there.

You look out the window to hear your sister’s pretentious giggle. She laughed so differently around him – acted so differently around him. He stood right next to her with the rest of the council members, giving them a big pep talk. She looked at him like he was an angel who fell from heaven. Their conversation ends and the rest of the council members disband except Sena and Namjoon. They are having a personal conversation and you can’t read mouths, but you can’t tear your eyes away from their beaming faces.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You clear your throat, speaking so softly so only Jungkook can hear you.

“I’m all ears.”

“Does – does Namjoon have a type?” You say out of curiosity. Jungkook raises a brow at you, curious as to what motivated you to ask the question.

“Uh, I don’t know. I’ve never really heard hyung talk about any girls… or his type, to be honest.” He hums and he is staring at you stare at your sister and Namjoon. “Why’d you ask?”

“It’s… for Sena.” It was the truth, but your own curiosity was definitely a motivating factor. “She’s been obsessed with Namjoon since… as long as I can remember.” You breathe out, hoping no one else can eavesdrop on your conversation. “She’s been talking a lot about him more since she found out I knew him, y’know?”

“Huh,” Jungkook leans on the table and folds his arms. “Why doesn’t she just tell him?”

“Apparently, she needs some sort of confirmation that he thinks of her that way too, so she doesn’t make a fool of herself.”

“Why don’t you just ask him then?” Your silence is clearly something Jungkook wasn’t expecting because you never actually considered it once. “He’s a pretty easy-going guy; just ask him and he’ll be honest.”

“We’re not on that level of friendship yet, I guess.”

“Well, I consider you guys close enough to ask that kind of question.”

“Then, he’d just assume I’m being friends with him because my sister was using me.”

“Well, are you?”

“No.”

Your own answer stuns you almost. Just a couple weeks ago, you knew nothing of Namjoon and, suddenly, you are on a level of friendship where you think you can confide him in anything. Perhaps, now, you really understood why everyone obsessed over him; why everyone wanted to be friends with him, why everyone wanted to date him, why everyone just wanted to be noticed by him.

“Then, feel free to ask him yourself.”

You hadn’t really worked up the courage to talk to Namjoon about his dating life. You repeated to yourself that it wasn’t really a priority to delve into what goes on behind the scenes with Namjoon. You were in a consistent state of going to school, doing your homework, reading books, and retraining your body to try out for the swim team next semester. 

But the time came when you got sick for an entire week and missed so much material, especially calculus material.

But you were eternally saved by Namjoon himself.

Namjoon had requested to drop off the homework sheets and printed copies of his notes over to you. Everything was so detailed, and you were impressed with how organized everything seemed to be. You didn’t know what motivated you to reach for your phone on your bed and dial in his number. Maybe you felt like it deserved a personal thanks rather than a typed one.

“YN?” His voice on the other line sounded so surprised and there was so much noise on the other end. “Give me a second.” He excuses before you hear him move to another location, somewhere much quieter.

“How many times do I have to thank you for being an absolute saint?” Your voice sounded so stuffed. The flu was getting to you really bad, but you were recovering well. But he chuckles into the receiver and you are flipping through each page he had printed before you fall onto your bed, sighing blissfully. “I’m serious, Joon. I’ll say it a million times if I have to.”

“You’ve pulled my weight when I was off doing council work so much. I’m sure if I got sick, you’d do the exact same thing. It’s what partners do.” Namjoon is smiling from ear to ear; he was glowing, and no one was there to really witness it. “I – um, did you see my note attached at the back?”

You are now flipping through the pages frantically until you see a handwritten sticky note that read: “We have a quiz on the Monday you come back. I’m free this weekend if you wanted to study with me.” And there was even a little smiley face attached to it and you are experiencing a whirlwind of emotions.

“You have got to be fucking with me.” You can feel the panic starting to bubble in the pits of your belly, but you were trying not to let it show. “You’ve already done so much for me. I can’t rob you of your weekend. It’s just – It’s just too much.”

“I’m happy to do it, Ace. I promise.” The guy deserved everything in the world because he was too generous for the world and you weren’t so sure what you did to deserve such kindness.

“Ace?”

He chuckles embarrassingly into the receiver, chewing on his cheeks. “I – uh, it’s a nickname. I hope you don’t mind.” Suddenly, butterflies erupt from your stomach and there is a glow on your cheeks that you are very much aware of and you are curling into your bed with a shit eating grin on your face.

“I – I like it.” You sigh and Namjoon leans on the wall as he observes the rest of his friends and council members enjoy slices of pizza, taking a well-deserved break from preparing for the pep rally event coming up next week.

“So, is that a yes to a study session this Saturday?”

“Yes.” Your voice is small and hesitant because it feels like you’re doing something wrong when you were just having a quiz session with your calculus partner.

“Great. My place or yours?”

Namjoon insisted on coming over to your place because you were still recovering. Coincidentally, your parents had the weekend trip away with your dad’s work colleague for a wine tasting event. You debated whether you wanted to tell Sena that Namjoon was going to be arriving in an hour, but you soon realize that she was out with her friend’s house for a movie night session.

You had the place all to yourself and you were relieved and frantic all at once.

You busied yourself the entire day to make yourself look decent; brushed hair, brushed teeth, clean face, and fresh clothes. You throw used tissues into trash bins, changed your sheets, and kicked all of your dirty laundry into your hamper that had fallen on the carpeted floors. As you are jogging downstairs, you discover you have no food in the fridge, so you’d probably have to order a pizza or something to share with Namjoon.

Immediately, you question why you are so desperate to make the place and yourself so presentable when this was a mere tutoring session with your calculus partner?

The doorbell ringing prompts you to peek through the peep hole and you see him; he is wearing a regular white t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. He has his hoodie thrown over his shoulder as he begins texting a message on his phone, waiting for you to open the door for him.

When you unlock the front door and open the door for him, you smile timidly at him.

“Hi,” You greet him nervously.

“Hey, Ace.” He waves before he examines how you look. Despite your red nose and tired eyes, he missed seeing your face for a week; he really did. You stood awkwardly fiddling with your fingers and he can sense just how anxious you are, so he decides to tread lightly. “May I come in?”

His tone is so polite which effectively allows you to open the door wider for him to enter. You are nodding and you close the door shut behind him, ensuring that you have locked them. “I – um, I can’t really offer you anything to eat since my parents are out of town, but we can order pizza, if you want. It’s what my sister and I usually do.”

“I’m more than okay with pizza.” He permits and you nod and begin walking to the living room. “Will we be working here?”

“We can work anywhere.” You announce. The conversation is so light, and you hate how quick yet reluctant you are to your responses. “I – I can get you a glass of water, if you’d like. I’ll just get my things from upstairs and bring them down to the living room.” You inform him and he nods as he is making himself comfortable on the couch.

You are scurrying off upstairs to go get your materials and catching your breath because you think you were holding your breath the entire time. You’re stalling because you’re making a check list of every single thing you need for downstairs to avoid seeing him or talking with him. Just when you are about to exit, you see him at the bottom of the stairs. He is examining each family portrait on the wall.

Your face is hot because you can only imagine how terrible you looked like a child, so you jog downstairs with your study materials to gain his attention. “I never really realized how much Sena looks like your dad.” Namjoon comments and you stop in your tracks, only to examine the portrait he is looking at. “Exact same nose and smile.”

You purse your lips into a thin line because you are reminded once again that he is probably only interested in getting to know Sena – there was always that possibility. You were so familiar with this feeling of discussing your sister with other people because – yes, she is absolutely beautiful and intelligent and there was no denying it.

“But you are like your mother.” He comments as he takes a closer look at your mom who seems to be so much more youthful. “The way she’s smiling here looks so much like the way you smile.” He describes and you allow him to explain more by staying silent. “When you smile, your nose kind of crinkles and the corners of your eyes creases and your dimples are a lot more –”

Your throat seizes because you’re flattered and aware that he has perfectly examined your appearance and all the features in what he sees. He grows silent and he is chuckling nervously, scratching the back of his hand to distract himself.

“Sorry that was… super random.” Namjoon clears his throat, and you are shaking your head before you point towards the living room.

“I – I’m ready now.”

Now, you’re desperately hoping Sena doesn’t come home too early from her friend’s house.

Hours have passed since Namjoon have gotten you caught up with all of the materials and have assisted you through last week’s homework sheets. Namjoon was impressed with how you can keep up despite your recovering condition. One minute, you were sneezing and wiping your nose clean and, the next minute, you have your lips pursed and brows furrowed as you are writing equations down on a separate piece of paper.

“I got a question for you.” Namjoon begins and you are still too busy piecing everything together for a specific word problem you wanted to master.

“Shoot.”

“Are you always this focused?” You are typing things into a calculator before you are erasing things on your paper and you turn to look at him, showing him the calculator.

“Is this the right answer?” You ignore his question for a moment.

He nods and you grin at him before you proceed onto the next word problem.

“If I’m a week’s worth of lessons behind, yes, I’m focused all the time.” Namjoon is shaking his head and he is in awe at how you are so quick at writing all the information; he notices how neat your handwriting is too. Namjoon checks his watch and realizes just how late it has been and he clears his throat as he looks out the window to see the sun has gone completely down.

“Will your sister be coming home tonight?” Namjoon notices that you stop writing – you stop solving the word problem that you are tackling because you, suddenly, realize that he is asking about your sister.

“She’s probably still at a friend’s house or something.” He senses the atmosphere has changed and you shift your mind back to the practice problem right in front of you. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason – well, I honestly thought she should be taking care of her recovering sister.” You snicker at his statement.

“She’s a great sister, but she’s not that great.” You quip, biting your tongue at how ridiculous he sounded. “I think we can all agree that she’s smart, charismatic, and ambitious. I will admit she’s a really considerate sister too, but she thinks caring for her ill sister is a parents’ job – not hers.”

“Okay, okay, I get it she’s amazing but not… amazing.” He raises his hands to surrender and his words coming out of his mouth urged you to inquire about his relationship with her.

“If you think she’s amazing, why don’t you date her?” The words came spilling out of your mouth uncontrollably. Maybe it was the meds, you thought. You see the grin disappear from Namjoon’s face into utter confusion and he tilts his head for further clarification. “What I mean is that… you’ve known her and worked with her for so long and she’s a great girl – I’m obviously really biased considering she’s my sister, but you two would make a… great couple.”

You didn’t believe that you were talking about this to Namjoon. You didn’t think you would have the guts to discuss this with him, but the opportunity came up and you took it. But you are faced with such an unfamiliar emotion. True discomfort arises at the pit of your stomach as Namjoon’s brows furrow together and he is shaking his head with the same boyish grin he always flaunted to the world.

“Ace, she’s great, but I… honestly see her as a friend.” He isn’t so sure how many times he’s reiterated those words before. Because little did you know, so many people have asked the exact same thing. Peers and colleagues in their class were very much aware of Sena’s not so little crush on Namjoon for quite some time.

“Well, I mean, isn’t that how all relationships really start? Becoming friends and then possibly developing feelings for each other? Most people always see each other as friends until one of them is aware of the others’ feelings, right?” Your tone was so quizzical. You were treating this conversation like it required rationale and logical reasoning to tackle the issue at hand.

But this wasn’t a problem the mind can solve.

“That’s the usual circumstance, yes.” He admits and he sees that you resume back to the worksheet. “But I’ve known Sena’s had a thing for me and, quite frankly, I’ve been interested in someone else for a while, remember?”

“Someone far more interesting than Sena?” You are in disbelief. You are trying to eliminate other people in school who is on the same social standing as your older sister. “That’s… not possible.” You breathe.

“You’re wrong.” You stop writing because you are retracing your steps on the word problem you are solving. He finds it so endearing how you can’t seem to understand that he is utterly into you, but you are so lost in numbers.

“No, don’t tell me, Joon. I’ve told you this hundreds of times –” You lift your head to look at him to accentuate your reminder; you didn’t want to know what you wrong, you wanted to solve the problem yourself unless you demanded the assistance yourself.

Normally, Namjoon would comply with your request. It was so rare for him to point out your mistake, but he figured this was the perfect time to do so.

“You’re so stubborn.” He breathes before he dives in.

You don’t complete your sentence. Because when you turn your head to look at him with pleading eyes, you are met with his pillowy petals on yours. Your cheeks heat instantaneously, and you can feel your heart leap from your chest.

His kisses were soft and slow. You don’t realize that he has already cupped your cheeks. You’ve never kissed anyone ever before but, for some reason, it was like you knew how to move your mouth against his. He was gentle but there was a certain control he possessed. You pull away momentarily to breathe and, suddenly, you feel the heat of his tongue swipe on your lower lip. A shuddered whimper leaves your mouth before you are regrettably pulling away from addiction.

“N – no, that’s not possible.” You’re still in denial from the events that occurred. “Sena – she’d be so… betrayed if she –” Your brain is glitching and it didn’t help that you can taste the mint of his lips on yours.

“Listen, Ace, for one moment stop thinking about Sena and answer me honestly.” Namjoon positions his body to look straight onto you. “Do you feel the same way I do or not?”

“I don’t – I don’t know.” You shrug before avoiding his eyes. “I – I shouldn’t like you.” You sigh defeated and you are covering your face. You were ashamed not because you like him, but because you didn’t understand what you were really feeling, and you didn’t understand what you wanted to do. “Why – why do you like me?”

“You’re hardworking and incredibly intelligent.”

“I know plenty of other girls who are… exactly the same.”

“Your tastes in book are impeccable. You’re selfless to a degree that I can’t quite comprehend. You keep to yourself, but when you speak your mind, it leaves a lasting impression. Listen, YN, I can keep going, but you can’t… keep doubting my feelings for you.” Namjoon justifies and it was a tough pill to swallow.

You were too stunned to say anything. Too many emotions flooding your brain and it took too long for it to process, so you remained expressionless. Namjoon found it incredibly difficult for him to read your face.

“Ace, it’s really hard to tell how you’re feeling right now.” He points out and you understand just how awkward you sat there; head spinning with so many things to say but very little coming out of your mouth.

“I – I don’t know what you want me to say.” You admit. “I’m not sure what you’re expecting out of me with a confession like this. If I don’t feel the same way, what would’ve happened? If I do feel the same way, what – what was I supposed to do?”

“Well, for starters, do you actually feel the same way as I do?”

“I – I do.” You croak to respond to his inquiry. “I – I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that to myself either, but… I think I like you.”

A wave of relief washed over Namjoon, but there’s a bit of relief for you too. It’s out in the open now, and you know that there’s nothing really you can do about it. There’s a very content grin plastered right across his handsome face, but it slowly transforms into a frown as he realizes that, despite your feelings for each other, nothing will change between the both of you.

“Namjoon, we can’t be anything more than friends.” You realize the unfortunate circumstances the both of you were in. “It’s not fair to my sister. I don’t think it’s very fair to make me choose between you and my sister. I – I don’t think it’s very fair that… you’re in this position.”

Your heart swelled just moments ago, and you can feel it crumble into pieces as the words come spilling out of your lips.

“I understand.” He agrees softly and you perk up at his acquiescence. “I’m not going to force you to be in that position, Ace.” The reassurance softens your tense form, and his fingers cradle your chin, lifting up to be at eye level with you.

“But when you’re ready to reconsider... us, I’ll be waiting.”

↪ Please stay tuned for the next part!

[ben-j-man]

Secret War: Chapter 9

Link to chapter 1- http://ben-j-man.tumblr.com/post/180097372453/secret-war-chapter-1

I looked back up to Olinthre my eyes wide, and I could imagine my face being even paler than usual.

"Have you actually seen Taryst over the past few months?" I asked, "has he been even more recluse than normal."

"That's the thing," said Olinthre, "While he still never leaves his quarters he still talks openly to the investigation squads and me, his mannerisms are the same nothing has changed except for his decisions.

Clenching my teeth I shook my head, "you are aware, that while we are having this highly confidential conversation, this Karmen Kons could easily be listening in that Taryst could have feigned her disappearance to draw out anyone conspiring against him...Like us."

Olinthre shrugged, "I know, but I don't care, if she truly knew, something would have happened right after I talked to Vex earlier, for all I know she could be dead."

The corner of my mouth twitched in contempt, how typical of a soldier to think so simplistically.

Of course, Edracian had claimed earlier that this Karmen Kons had been injured by my colleagues during the Twilight bar incident, but it would be wise to take everything that deranged Inquisitor claims with a grain of salt.

I sighed and shrugged, placing the paper on a nearby cogitator, "for all our sakes I hope you're right, frig it."

I could easily see where this was leading. With this development perhaps I could "encourage" good Olinthre to go up to "Taryst's" condo and confront the rogue trader, the major taking me with him of course. From there I could get access to this mysterious door.

Finally, for the first time in a long time, it seemed luck was on my side for a change.

At least I hoped it was luck, this seemed to smack of something that Glaitis had cooked up behind the scenes, and perhaps she knew of my kidnapping and deal with Edracian, but she hadn't tried to stop me yet.

"So," I said, attempting to push the conversation where I wanted it to go, "what are we going to do now?"

Olinthre's square jaw set in determination, "we're going up there, and we're going to ask Taryst what the hell is going on."

I barely held back a smile; everything was all according to plan, yess.

"What, now?" asked Vex perplexed, "b-but don't we need a plan first?"

"You don't need to worry Vex," said Olinthre, "because you are staying right here, I can't have your death on my conscience if anything should happen."

"And make no mistake, something, will happen," I said with complete certainty.

Olinthre gave me a sidelong glare, a look which seemed to show his complete disbelief that someone so young could be so cynical.

He can think it's cynicism; I prefer to call it pragmatism.

Vex shook his head a slight smile on his face, "no I didn't expect that you would want me to come with you, I would very much get in the way."

"In fact," said Olinthre his attention still on me, "I am leaving my men here to protect you Vex."

My eyes widened in disbelief as did Vex's and the two so far silent Stormtroopers glanced at one another.

"But-!"

"No Attelus," interrupted Olinthre then he turned to the Stormtroopers, "Aithyre, Geron, Daveth, Rayle they have been good soldiers, no great soldiers I will not put their lives on the line for this crap, I won't, I just won't."

I opened my mouth to argue to say that if we went up there and if anything happened that Taryst would surely find out about their involvement and kill them anyway, that it was idiotic that we could use all the help we could get.

But I could tell that to argue was pointless Olinthre had that determined look again he would brook no argument.

Olinthre turned to me, "sorry Attelus it's just you and me I'm afraid."

My jaw clenched, "let's get this over and damn well done with then," I growled.

The major smiled down at me, "lets," and he began to walk to the door, but I stood still my attention to the floor, shoulders hunched and shaking as I started to work up the courage.

"Attelus?" Olinthre asked.

"I'm sorry!" I finally blurted out, "I'm sorry about what I did Vex, I had no right, I was a jerk and a complete frig head I'm sorry, I truly am."

Vex didn't reply for a while, I was already sweating the small space profusely with so many Cogitators stuffed in it made the place as hot as a furnace, but I was somehow sweating even worse now, my body glove's internal heat dampeners didn't seem to help at all.

"You were a jerk," agreed the young hacker and I let out a long sigh of relief, not realising that I had held my breath the whole time, "and no I don't forgive you."

My attention snapped straight to Vex, as much as it sucked to hear those words I knew that he had every right not to.

"I-I understand," I stammered and turned to leave.

"But!" exclaimed Vex causing me to stop in my tracks, "but I will forgive you on one condition."

I could not help sigh in relief and turn back to the hacker, "name it."

"Only if you let me punch you in the face as hard as I can."

My eyes widened, that was it? That was all? It was then I was reminded how young Vex was. Only someone of such youth would think that was enough retribution for such treatment.

I almost felt guilty, while I knew that a thin person could be just as powerful and robust fighter as much as someone twice their size, Vex was not at all trained, and I have been punched in the face many times in my life, I could not help suspect that Vex's would barely even hurt at all.

Swallowing I said, "h-how about three punches to the face Vex perhaps that would suffice more?"

Vex grinned, and I knew that grin well, it was one which I had also worn on many occasions it was when someone knew that they were being underestimated, "nope I think one'll do."

I frowned and nodded, scratching the back of my head "hmm, okay, fire away but do you mind if I close my eyes?"

Vex's grin widened, "why, are you scared?"

My reply was a brief nod, hell yes I was scared. Scared that if my were eyes open when Vex tried to punch, my self-defence instincts would take over and the poor kid would end up with a broken arm, or worse

Vex shrugged, "sure I don't see why not."

Closing my eyes I lent forward, giving Vex a clear shot. Then the punch came, with no fanfare or ceremony and he hit me right in my cheekbone with surprising strength. Sharp pain abruptly flared through my face, and I was sent sprawling to the floor so fast that I was barely able to stop myself from smashing my nose into the hard rockcrete.

He somehow had hit me harder than Edracian's mook did earlier.

Still, on the floor I turned back to Vex, my eyes wide with shock and clutching my face, that was going to leave one hell of a bruise.

But it indeed was the least I deserved.

Vex was smirking triumphantly down at me as one of Olinthre's men approached and abruptly pulled me back to my feet. Woozy I clung to the Stormtrooper.

Was I woozy? Woozy! How the hell could this kid hit so damned hard!

Vex grinned, "apology accepted Attelus Kaltos,"

I nodded still holding my face, "th-thanks."

"I bet you are wondering why it hurt so much, right?"

Yes, I thought but said nothing.

"Garrakson had taught me how to punch while you were in a coma," said Vex, "that was nice of him, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, real nice of him," I said sarcastically.

Both Olinthre and I exited Vex's office, only pausing briefly for the Major to order the Stormtroopers to stay put and tell some other, supposedly inspiring hold the line crap.

We walked on through the cavern of cogitators, me sulking silently while still holding my cheek and Olinthre studying Vex's print out intently.

As we entered the corridors and out of the deafening crashes of the serfs Olinthre said to me absently; "you really shouldn't keep touching your face like that Attelus, it won't help you at all."

My sidelong glare was the only reply which Olinthre got.

The major smiled, seemingly quite enjoying my suffering.

"Fine be that way, but I have to warn you Attelus if you were in the Imperial Guard and acted that way-"

"What would happen?"

Olinthre grinned, "well you would just have to sign up to find out wouldn't you?"

The corner of my mouth twitched then I turned my attention back forward.

"So Attelus how long have you worked as an Assassin for?" asked Olinthre out of the blue.

"Why?" I growled, quickly realising that this sounded allot like small talk.

"Why? Because I'm just interested that's all."

I Looked at him, trying to detect a reason behind this but came up with nil that was what it exactly seemed to be, small talk.

With a shrug I answered, "just made seven years now, how long have you worked for Taryst?"

Olinthre frowned he was still studying that sheet, "around ten years, hmmm."

"What is it?"

Olinthre suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked straight at me, "frig," he said, "that is one hell of a bruise you've got there Attelus."

I raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"Yeah, man, the kid got you good, yeah. It's all big and blue; we better see medicae Feuilt."

That was an act that much was blatant but why would he want to see Feuilt? And if we did this, it would just use up even more of my precious time.

I sighed, "yeah okay, maybe he'll bandage it or something."

The major smiled and we moved on.

"So what is your home planet?" asked Olinthre after a few moments of silence.

My brow furrowed, wondering where the hell this line of questioning was going, it was strange I don't think that anyone has ever actually asked where I came from before.

"E-Elbyra," I answered hesitantly, thinking that maybe I should not be giving out this information so freely.

Olinthre's eyes widened, "Ah! Elbyra! The small Agri world I know it actually."

My eyebrows raised in surprise, "really, have you been there?"

The major shook his head, "no, no actually I should re-phrase, I know of Elbyra, the way I found about the planet was because I once served alongside the Velrosian first regiment during my time in the guard."

I nodded, Elbyra was only recently taken in by the Imperium it would be just over three hundred years ago, as I could recall from school. We Elbyrans attempted to resist at first, in particular, the country of Maranger who have always been warlike but we were still a little primitive we where indeed a feudal world then and so it didn't take long before we where under the fold. It wasn't until twenty years ago that the entirety of Elbyra raised their first regiments of Imperial Guard, one drawn from each country on the large continent; Velrosia, Maranger, Galak Heim, Despasia, Terluin, Haellestein and Amarin.

"It was in my last year in the guard," said on Olinthre, "my regiment was fighting Orks on the planet Belfost, and the Velrosians were sent in to help us, the famous "first amongst equals" at first we all scoffed at the arrogance of the title but quickly I saw it was justified. They were good, one of the best regiments I have ever worked with actually, well disciplined, reliable and their general he was a hard bastard. Tathe was his name, and he had a son working inside the regiment as a commissar. His father forced him into the schola progenium when he was young, Delan Tathe he was an arrogant little punk, but very skilled with a blade, you remind me of him actually."

My jaw set slightly, "thanks," I said, it was kind of funny at how such a large galaxy could feel so small at times.

I smiled and said, "The Velrosian 1st have made a name for themselves over the last twenty years, my country seems to breed natural warriors. Around thousand years ago Olinthre, Velrosia fought the far larger and numerically advantageous invading Maranger to a standstill, a war which lasted over four decades before Velrosia was finally overwhelmed. But it was barely after a year of occupation when the Velrosian rebels led by the young and now legendary prince, Royd Antares they ousted Maranger and Royd slaying the corrupt Maranger king Voltarin in single combat."

"Although that great act of heroism would lead to events that no one could ever have foreseen. The legend of King Royd of Velrosia was a sad tale which ended in utter tragedy, but that still doesn't stop all Velrosian children wanting to be him growing up, myself included, of course, my love for sword mastery and hand to hand combat was in part, because of that legend."

And my father made me learn of course.

The corner of my mouth twitched slightly, wondering why I had just suddenly said all that information. It has been a long time since I talked about my homeworld.

Olinthre smiled and nodded as we walked out of the corridors and into the elevator lobby.

"And where are you from major?" I asked.

"Cadia," answered Olinthre simply.

My eyebrows raised in surprise, I knew of Cadia of course, the mighty fortress world which guards the only navigational route too and from the Eye of Terror. The Cadian Imperial Guard regiments were amongst the most well known and lauded in the whole of the Imperium so that Olinthre would know of and praise the Velrosian 1st so highly was indeed something to be proud of.

That's if the major was telling the truth of course.

Olinthre pushed the elevator call button and turned back to me.

"I served in the 266th regiment for a good ten years with Garrakson under my command as a sergeant."

That surprised me also; I had no idea that both Garrakson and Olinthre were from the same planet, let alone the very same regiment.

Olinthre shook his head, "that was the best decade of my life, don't get me wrong we all went through hell that's for sure but the brotherhood we shared, the friendships we developed Attelus war is a terrible, terrible thing but nothing else could ever bind comrades together so well."

"There is only war," I could not help intone under my breath.

Olinthre sighed sadly, "yes I can't disagree with you on that."

"It was hard to see your comrades slowly whittle away Attelus, to die off, sometimes one by one, sometimes even by the dozens. You must have an idea by now; your squad was much larger when you first started fighting in this complete and utter farce."

The major's face suddenly contorted in horrible rage while his eyes watered with barely contained tears, "but to have your entire regiment, the friends! The comrades who you have fought side by side for years on countless battlefields! To have them all slaughtered right in front of your eyes like they were cattle, you can't imagine what that is like!"

His sudden outburst made me flinch in fright, and I could only stand around like an idiot, not knowing what to say.

Olinthre sighed again, "I-I'm sorry for that Attelus, I didn't mean to-"

Olinthre was interrupted by the arrival of the elevator, and we slipped inside.

We went up a few floors before Olinthre finally said, "Taryst saved us from that hell hole Attelus, he saved Garrakson and me from being slaughtered just like the rest of our regiment and for that I truly respect him, and for that, I owe him everything. I was always prepared to die for the Emperor but not in that way, but not that way."

"And for that, I will always be ashamed; I am a coward Attelus I should have died in duty along with my comrades but yet here I am. Working as a soulless mercenary for an ugly and backstabbing corporation that really shouldn't exist, but now it's time to face up as you did with Vex, it's time to finally, truly face up to my mistakes."

I nodded, and that was all I was capable of.

I winced as Feuilt dabbed my sore cheek with a wet piece of cotton.

"Yeeep," he said, "young man you are going to have one frig of a bruise."

My jaw twitched, and I glared accusingly at the grinning Olinthre, really is that why we came up here so that Feuilt could state something, I already knew?

"Actually," said on the medicae, "you are lucky that you didn't break your zygomatic bone, that was one hell of a punch."

"Well, the person who threw it has been practising at the art non-stop over the last month," I growled and flinched again as more pain coursed through my face.

Feuilt's eyes widened, "what just so they could do this to you? What did you do to warrant such retribution?"

I frowned and furrowed my brow, bemused at the medicae's apparent ignorance.

"Well I guess it doesn't matter," sighed Feuilt, "just be careful, two injuries so quickly one after the other, just try, be, a, little, bit, less, clumsy next time."

He dabbed between each pause, and I could not help bristle slightly at being called clumsy, I wasn't clumsy, I was never clumsy.

"Alright," said the medicae as he got up and turned to a nearby draw pulling out a bandage, pulled off the adhesive tape then planted onto my face.

"Just wear that for the next few days," he said, "it will keep down the swelling and help prevent the bruising, I'll give you a few more if this one ever falls off."

"Thanks, doc," I said, sounding more grudging than intended.

Feuilt shrugged, "yes young man, just make sure you don't come back for any time soon, okay?"

I nodded and briefly played with the idea to tell Feuilt of the poison injected into my system but quickly declined the notion, Edracian could be watching me even now, and I didn't know what kind of poison it was. There were a few kinds that I could name off the top of my that would kill a man in a few hours, but here I was dealing with an assassin from the Venenum temple and their knowledge of poisons was unrivalled throughout the Imperium, it was very likely that Feuilt would have no clue what it was at all.

Feuilt nodded back then turned to Olinthre, "so major now will you tell me why you are here as well?"

Olinthre was leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest and he pushed himself off.

"Yes I will Feuilt, something has come to my interest recently," Olinthre said, and he held up the print off of the retinal scans to the medicae.

My eyes widened, what was he doing? Why was he telling this to Feuilt?

Feuilt's brow furrowed in bemusement, "where are you getting at major?"

"This, my friend," said Olinthre, "is a print off from the records of people who have used their retinal ID to access Taryst's condo over the past month."

The medicae frowned deeply, still confused he slipped on a pair of spectacles and took the sheet, studying it intently.

"Yes it is," agreed Feuilt, "but what does this have to do with me?"

My eyes widened as it suddenly hit me, "because you've been going up there to treat Taryst's injured psyker!" I blurted out without thinking.

Both Feuilt's and Olinthre's attention snapped at me; their expressions were both amazed and confused.

"H-how did you know that?" stammered Feuilt.

I winced, internally cursing my idiocy then my face went bright red, and I scratched the back of my head, "uhm a lucky guess, I guess."

It was a terrible lie, I know.

But I barely held back a sigh of relief as Olinthre returned his suspicious gaze to the bemused medicae, "so you admit it then? As the records show, you have been visiting Taryst far more than normal over the last month."

It was Feuilt's turn to sigh, "yes, yes I do admit to it Olinthre as you know I go up once a week to give Taryst his weekly juvenant treatment, but..."

"But this time was different?" I asked and immediately regretted it as Olinthre's attention briefly snapped straight at me again, damn it! Why the hell did I always feel so inclined to finish people's sentences!

"But...Yes this was different, young man, Taryst took me through that large door in his quarters, in there he is keeping an extremely injured psyker, a woman by the name of Karmen Kons, he told me to treat her and to keep it a secret."

Olinthre looked at the medicae with extreme incredulity and said, "but! But! How! Not even I'm allowed through that frigging door and why wasn't I told what had happened to her!"

Feuilt raised his hands in a protective motion as it seemed for a second there that Olinthre would strike the medicae. "You must understand major, I was not informed of such information, but it does not end there."

"And what the hell does 'It does not end there,' mean?" yelled Olinthre.

The medicae didn't flinch facing down the angry ex-guardsman with admiral courage. "When I was first taken to her, she was unconscious due to head trauma, but I was ordered to keep her in a coma via a drug named Diporisan which needed to be injected every two days, that is why my retinal scan is logged in at every second day."

"I don't understand," I said interrupting anything that Olinthre was to say, "why didn't you give Taryst some syringes so he could do it himself?"

But what I was really thinking was why Taryst would want to keep his little psyker in a coma, and the reason why I asked such a small question was that I wanted to take Olinthre's thoughts away from it.

Perhaps the psyker had found something? Or did something wrong during the raid on the Twilight bar?

Feuilt shrugged, "I don't know, but I am guessing that he suspected no one but himself would be able to see the records so my visitations would not arouse suspicion."

That made my eyes widen, if this was such a secret then how did Edracian's spy find out? The spy who seemingly worked for Glaitis or was there someone else in Taryst's organisation?

"Well they have now," growled Olinthre.

Feuilt turned back to Olinthre, "so I am curious, how is it then you got your hands on those records major?"

"That is none of your business, medicae."

"Alright then," sighed Feuilt, "I don't know how you got your hands on that information but I can still tell Taryst that you have it, so do not intend to get angry at me again Olinthre!"

A wolfish, predatory grin spread across Olinthre's face, "well it doesn't matter if you do, medicae as the three of us are about to say a little hello to the good rogue trader right now, isn't that right Attelus?"

"Yes, that's right," I agreed and I paused as I realised, "wait, what do you mean 'us three'?" I asked.

"Because Attelus Kaltos, because good medicae Feuilt here will be accompanying us, isn't that right Feuilt?"

Feuilt's face grimaced in utter rage, but it was quickly gone, turning into a look of defeat, "yes, yes I will be accompanying you major."

Olinthre grinned that grin again, "good!" he said brightly, "let's go then, shall we?"

We silently rode the elevator up to Taryst's penthouse me standing with both Olinthre and Feuilt on my flanks.

Earlier on our walk from the medicae, I asked Feuilt with as much casual interest I could feign. If he had seen anything behind that door, anything of any importance, but the only answer I got was that the door actually led to an elevator that went down into an underground bunker that he hadn't been shown much of the shelter at all.

Perhaps he was lying, but I didn't want to push the medicae for more information with Olinthre around, the ex-guardsman's suspicion of me was high enough as it was already.

With the thought of the ex-guardsman, I could not help but steal a sidelong glance at Olinthre, my jaw twitching slightly.

Perhaps I should've pointed out the pure hypocrisy of Olinthre making poor Feuilt come with us, Feuilt who in all essence which had done nothing wrong he was just following orders.

But me being the complete coward I am my mouth kept shut not wishing to force any confrontation with Olinthre, I needed to stay on his right side him being my only real ally in this idiotic endeavour.

Well, how "true" Olinthre was as an ally has yet to be elaborated on I would be keeping an eye on the major after his tirade with poor Feuilt I was beginning to wonder about his mental health.

I then looked sidelong to the medicae who stood as emotionless as he was motionless, he hadn't complained at all about the dangerous position he was in, but as I had said earlier life was unfair and I couldn't help but respect the medicae for his apparent stoicism.

I sighed slightly and reached into the pocket of my flak jacket for a smoke while tapping the tip of my shoe against the floor, very much unlike the good medicae my nerves where really getting to me the entire ride I fidgeted in one way or another while wholly ignoring the annoyed looks from the Major and medicae.

The attempt at retrieving my Lhos was far harder than it should've been my shaking fingers fumbling to find the little ceramic case which caused me to curse a couple of times under my breath.

Finally, I managed to tug out the case and opened it with a flick of a thumb then began to search for my lighter.

"You aren't going to smoke that are you?" growled suddenly Olinthre at my back which made me flinch in fright.

"And I hope that you are aware of the dangers to your health of smoking Lho," said Feuilt, "or of the potential effects for both Olinthre and myself when you smoke in such close proximity to us in here-."

"Yeah, yeah," I interrupted while hurriedly slipping my away my Lho's, really not wanting to hear much more of the medicae's tirade.

"Are you a bit nervous Attelus?" asked Feuilt.

"Yeah just a little," I said, "we are about to confront the leader of huge multi-planet business franchise who has a huge army at his beckon call and may or may not already want us dead and may or may not has lost his mind, so I am a little bit nervous, yes."

Feuilt smiled, "I understand we all have our ways of dealing with our anxiety Attelus, you I see, deal by fidgeting and by displaying extreme sarcasm which is not uncommon for others your age and the smoking of lho of course."

I sighed again, "so are we a psychologist now as well?"

Feuilt smiled wider, "why I've dabbled although I doubt it would take a genius to figure that out."

"Of course you have," I said, "and what is your way of dealing with anxiety medicae?"

"My faith," he answered without hesitation.

My jaw set at the medicae's response, first frigging Olinthre now Feuilt both being idiotic believers in "faith", a smile spread across my face, and I looked up at the cameras looming over us and said;

"Whatever happens, happens."

Before either Olinthre or Feuilt could respond the elevator had stopped its ascent and again the automated voice announced in its atypical monotone "300th story; Master Taryst's living quarters restricted access retinal scan required."

Wordlessly Olinthre unslung his las gun approached the retinal scanner and placed his face into the machine while I still watched the cameras with great interest wondering whether Taryst was watching us ascend to usurp him.

I drew my auto pistol from my chest holster, racked the slide and turned to Feuilt, "stay behind us Feuilt."

The medicae's exterior of apathy was gone, his nod of reply very nervous.

"Employee 106; identified as Toron Olinthre," said the computer, "Access granted."

We all quickly stepped into the sides of the elevator in case of any immediate retaliatory gunfire from Taryst's bodyguards.

But there was nothing.

I glanced questionably at Olinthre who with a similar quizzical look nodded back and together with guns raised we slipped out of the elevator and into the corridor beyond.

What we saw as we stepped into that red, overly pretentious hallway made my jaw drop and Olinthre bark out in disbelief.

She stood at the end, kneeling over the corpses of both Taryst's bodyguards seemingly studying them intently.

"You!" roared the ex-guardsman, "how in the Emperor's name did you get up here?"

Elandria was suddenly on her feet, and she eyed each of us blankly, "I was allowed," she answered.

Both Olinthre and I had here wholly covered, but I could not help but feel a little unnerved, what was she doing here? Was this Glaitis making her move?

"Did you kill those men?" demanded Olinthre his tone betraying his nervousness.

Slowly, Elandria looked over her shoulder at the two dead men behind her as though only just realising they were there, "no," she answered, "they were both already dead when I arrived."

Scarily without a shadow of a doubt, I knew she was telling the truth, and that made me all the more nervous.

Suddenly, seeming from nowhere Elandria grinned her evil grin and her attention snapped straight to me.

"This is it Attelus Kaltos," she said.

"This is it for what El?" I asked.

"Finally we will see who is truly the better of us," Elandria said as she slowly almost theatrically drew Setsukia and Katrina.

I kept my pistol firmly trained on her, "I don't want to fight you Elandria."

"Oh but you do," she laughed darkly, "you are just as interested as I am in seeing who is the superior one, I know it."

"Glaitis has ordered you to kill me hasn't she?" I asked.

"That is mamzel Glaitis Attelus Kaltos, and yes the master did order your death so I will not be holding back."

"Well I wouldn't have it any other way," I said and opened fire.

Almost faster than the eye could follow she dodged the bullet swaying sidewards and her somersault carried her lithe body out of the trajectory of both my next shots.

Olinthre had no time to react before she had crossed the distance between us and me in vain emptied my pistol at her acrobatic form.

She flew at me in a horrifically powerful butterfly kick which would have taken my head off if I hadn't managed just to duck underneath.

My sword was suddenly drawn I slashed horizontally, attempting to catch the young woman in mid-flight but she dodged; twisting out of harm's way with almost impossible grace.

She landed perfectly and followed on by pirouetting into a powerful hook kick which forced me into a back step, her heel barely missing my nose.

Elandria kept up her offence; thrusting forward Katrina at my guts, a thrust which I abruptly sidestepped and countered with a horizontal slash, an attack that she cartwheeled just out of range from but her dodge was also an attack as she attempted to shatter my jaw with her feet.

I swayed away and slid into a vertical slash which would have sliced her skull cleanly in two if she hadn't parried with Setsukia then countered by cutting with Katrina.

My dodge was a desperate leap back while simultaneously ejecting a knife from my sleeve and throwing it straight at her face at point blank range.

Elandria knocked my projectile out of mid-air with almost contemptuous ease and lunged forward, quickly making the distance while spinning into a vertical blow which was far too powerful for me to parry, so I instead sidestepped, sliding nimbly around her while cutting at her back.

Elandria leaned low, just under the blow and swept her leg out in an attempt to take my feet out from underneath me but I danced over the kick and stomped down at her.

She rolled out the way, across the carpet and into a feline-like crouch, her dead, drugged up eyes looking up at me under a furrowed brow.

"It looks as though your time in bed hasn't affected your speed, " she growled, getting back to her full height.

I grinned through my gasps that little skirmish would have lasted less than a second or two, but already it had worn me down a bit.

"Well that's me," I said, "the Autarch Speedyrificus."

Elandria raised an eyebrow, "what?"

"Nothing!" I replied quickly, wondering what the hell I had said as well.

Then without hesitation, Elandria was lunging at me again.

I slipped from the path of the slicing Katrina then weaved underneath the stabbing Setsukia.

My counter was a quick short slash, slashing up toward her ribs She spun sidewards out of the path of my attack. It was yet another fanciful dodge, but over the past six months, I'd like to think that I learnt a lot about Elandria's fighting style. I knew that her spins, her flips, her cartwheels and such were usually far to fast for me to take advantage of the openings they create and I knew they weren't just for show either. She used them to build momentum which added much more power to her strikes; it was a deadly mix of speed and power that made her such an exceedingly deadly enemy.

Elandria spun into a stroke with Setsukia, the blurring blade arcing in a decapitating cut that I kept clear of by backstepping. Against an offensive dual wielder with her speed I wasn't ready to risk a parry I didn't want to open myself to one of her next blows or even be potentially disarmed.

She flowed into a high front kick that I sidestepped; I would have loved to slice my sword straight into her leg then but again she proved to be far too quick.

Clenching my teeth I stepped into the offence, slashing out horizontally with my sword an attack which Elandria parried with Katrina and she flowed with the blow, turning her hips and augmenting my attack in an attempt push me off balance to impale myself on the tip of Setsukia.

I would have been surprised if not running on instinct, it was the type of defence I used, and so the appropriate counter had been drilled into me over and over again by my father a long time ago.

In the blink of an eye, I pulled my blade back reposting into a blindly fast overhead vertical slash that Elandria barely blocked with both her swords. A smile spread across my face at seeing the surprised look on her beautiful features; then I kicked out with my boot knife straight at her knee.

In hindsight it was foolish of me to think that she wouldn't have anticipated the attack, I had gained much knowledge of her style and so should she of me. I found that out the hard way as she suddenly slipped sideways pulling her blades from the block and just managing to dodge my crippling kick. Luckily my skill had prevented me from putting to much pressure on my sword otherwise I would have been overbalanced and open to her counter cut so with a desperate defence I knocked aside Katrina a mere millimetre before the short sword sliced through my guts.

Elandria's second attack was a thrust, the tip of Setsukia moving so fast straight at my face that the sword seemed to phase into reality and I leaned away. My dodge was quick enough to keep Setsukia from impaling my skull but not fast enough to prevent it from opening an ugly, gigantic gash across my cheek and tear off Feuilt's bandage.

Crying out as the horrific pain spread I leapt back, away from any follow on that Elandria could muster then fell into a defensive stance.

Elandria stood, her swords held limply at her sides grinning at me with that sinister grin of hers.

"You are slowing down," she stated.

I could barely respond with the lull in the combat my fatigue was back at full force, my heart was thudding through my chest at a mile a minute, and I couldn't stop gasping for breath if only I were at full strength if only I could breathe properly.

Elandria shrugged, "well you are weakened, but even at your best Attelus Kaltos I am sure that I would win."

"Dream, on," I managed and glanced briefly over my shoulder to check on Feuilt and Olinthre, who both stood frozen still with expressions of utter awe.

"I don't want to fight you Elandria," I said, turning back to her.

"Really, why did you try to shoot me then?"

My jaw twitched slightly, so I don't have to waste my frigging time fighting you, and I was aiming at your leg. Also, I thought but said nothing finding it hard to imagine of a convincing lie.

"So tell me El," I said in an attempt to change the subject, "did I save all those people at the Twilight bar?"

"Not this again," she growled.

My jaw set as sudden anger welled at the pit of my guts, "yes this again," I growled, "did I or didn't I? Now spit it out before I kill you."

Her face turned grim, "I am not telling you so if you by some miracle actually kill me you will miss out on it."

"There are no miracles, there is only men," I said, suddenly recalling the quote although could not quite remember from where it came.

She grinned again, "well if that is true then you are positively screwed."

I grinned back, "then I am positively screwed I guess, but really, I don't mind that it would be you who screwed me."

Elandria's face immediately turned a stark red, evident in contrast to her deathly pale skin.

I stepped forward looking her straight in the eyes, her drugged dead but somehow still beautiful brown eyes, "I-I don't want to fight you Elandria."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I don't want to fight you!" I yelled.

"Why don't you want to fight me?"

"Because I don't want to kill you!"

"Why don't you want to kill me?"

My reply caught in my throat why was she pushing this? Damn it! I turned my attention to the floor unable to keep eye contact with her any more.

"B-because I don't want you to die, Elandria."

"Why Attelus don't you want me to die then?" she said softly.

I glanced at her. Why, because you are so damn beautiful, it hurts every time I look at you?

"Just because!" I snapped.

It was pathetic! But I couldn't, I just couldn't talk properly; my heart leapt like it wanted to burst out of my chest, my throat had a massive lump in it, it was hard so, so hard.

It was strange going from one second fighting her, to this, me struggling to confess, well I had no real idea what I wanted to admit exactly.

She tilted her head slightly her pale face a mask of utter bemusement.

"Why Attelus, why?"

"Because Elandria," I sighed, "I don't want you to die, it's because I know what you have been through."

I paused trying to swallow back the lump in my throat, "and I know that you never had any choice in the matter, any choice to be what you wanted to be, to do what you wanted to do. That-that any real choice in your life was stolen from you when you were so young a-and you didn't deserve that Elandria, no one does, I-I want you to live so you could one day have your own life to escape this crap, too, too."

My left hand clenched into a tight ball while the right gripped my sword's hilt all the harder, "and that may be in your new life that I'd be able to be part of it, that I'd like to be by your side to help you through I-I."

I dropped my sword and kicked it away.

"W-what are you doing?" she demanded, her voice now high pitched almost scared, her expression of grim determination disappearing entirely into one of extreme uncertainty.

"Giving you a choice Elandria," I answered, feeling tears welling in my eyes, "you can kill me or let me pass, but either way I know now that you truly aren't the monster that you claim to be, your uncertainty now is proof of that."

Elandria was shacking in utter terror now, and I could even see tears in her own eyes she had utterly no clue what to do, "Attelus..."

I closed my eyes, "just make the choice Elandria; I won't fight it either way."

"What the hell are you doing!" I heard Olinthre roar, "don't just give up you idiot!"

I ignored him and despite my eyes being closed the tears now flowed freely.

"I-I," stammered Elandria, "I don't understand, I-I just don't, why can't, why can't I do it? Why can't I kill you?"

Then I heard a clatter as she dropped her swords, "I-I can't."

My eyes opened, and I was greeted for the first time Elandria cry, and by the Emperor, it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen as they weren't tears of sadness they were tears of joy, utter joy.

In all honesty, I had expected her to kill me that her years of brainwashing would win so to see her Elandria somehow overcoming it was so astonishing I could not help stand in shock, and awe and it filled me with such unbelievable hope if she could do it then why couldn't I?

Despite my self, I approached her, pulling her into an embrace she didn't fight only tightly embracing me back and sobbed raggedly into my chest

I held her all the more, and it was then I truly realised that I loved her and she truly loved me too, and the joy it brought was beyond description.

The single gunshot roared, reverberating the very corridor to the core and Elandria suddenly gasped her eyes widening with shock, and she collapsed so fast that I had no time to catch her. I just saw with dawning utterly numbing horror the huge ragged hole in her back.

My shock was so intense I never saw Taryst slip back through the curtains at the end of the corridor, a smoking gun in his grasp neither did I hear Olinthre scream the rogue trader's name and run after him nor Feuilt sprint up to try to help me with Elandria.

I fell to my knees and slowly pulled her into my arms, turning her limp form over so I could look into those big brown beautiful eyes, it seemed so unreal I couldn't begin to comprehend.

She smiled weakly and whispered; "you're so stupid."

"H-how?" I managed.

"Th-that you didn't believe Castella when she said you saved all those people," her voice was barely a whisper now, "because you did save those people Attelus, you did."

"Please don't talk El," I said wiping away my tears with a forearm, "t-try to save your strength."

"Thank you Attelus Kaltos," she said ignoring my plea, and she placed a soft hand against my cheek, "thank you for caring for me despite all I did, thank you for being the only one who-who."

She never got to finish her sentence as her hand fell away and she gasped one last time then died still cradled in my arms.

[gimmetheheadcanons]

Sinners & Scapegoats 1/?

A/N: This is a multi part Richonne fic. It is an AU mystery drama (with romance) and I began a while ago but decided to come back to only recently (and finally post). I will be posting maybe twice a month until it’s done - so heads up there. Let me know if it is worth continuing. (Trigger warnings, contains violence and racial slurs).

1.     Prying eyes

 Rick Grimes’s job was a job.

It was supposed to be a career, something with a purpose beyond the practical nature of a pay check. Protect and serve the community, there was no greater honor for a man of his caliber than being a deputy sheriff in a county full of fools apparently. Nothing more satisfying than chasing petty bike thieves all over town. Or breaking up a ‘salacious’ Sweet Sixteen Birthday Party that was misidentified as an ‘illegal kegger’ by a preachy passer-by. And to finish of this day of dunces, the most dignified activity of all! Once again, calling in at the request of anonymous white folk, unaware that the phrase ‘suspicious activity’ was not an umbrella term for any and all things any person with a ‘darker complexion’ may be doing.

In this case it was the nefarious action of a thirty something years old black woman in a casual, loose white blouse, ripped denim jeans and brown open toed sandals, putting up a couple of posters which needed immediate police attention. Thank the Lord for the ever vigilant residents of Winter Oaks Avenue!

“Oh for Pete’s sake.” Rick muttered under his breath, furious with himself for even taking the call from Diane at dispatch when he should have known better. Had he not been on his way out of the office he wouldn’t have. But here he was, once again at the beck and call of small-minded racists, trying to work out how best to handle this situation without offending this probably innocent woman or enraging the majority of the town’s voting pool in an election year. The Powers that Be at King’s County Sherriff’s Department would undoubtedly fail to thank him for once again “pandering to the so called PC culture of ill-informed progressives instead of serving the good folk of this county, the ones with real concerns about the increasing crime rates”.    

Ah yes, the things that go bump in the night. Rick grimaced to himself as he looked at the well lit and virtually empty street. There was no mistaking this woman for a dangerous trespasser and yet somehow, in this community – with that head full of dark dreads at least, she was. Rick glanced down at his wrist watch, it has just gone a little past seven. The sun would be gone in an hour or so and Rick wondered where this woman lived and if he could be so lucky as to have caught her just as she was about to finish up putting up the last of her posters before retiring for the day – none the wiser about the nastiness of her neighbors.

Fifteen minutes had passed and Rick just sat in his vehicle with the key still in the ignition. He simply observed the situation, each moment toying with the idea of just driving off. Just give it another minute, he told himself, then he could finally get his ass home to his family – and on time for dinner for once. It was another ten minutes into his ‘minute’ when Rick realized he had been caught by the woman. She was peering back at him from across the street, a curious frown visible on her face, even from this distance and Rick knew had no choice but to get out and face her.

Even if it was just for the purpose of damage control.

Be the change you wanna see.

After a long, tired sigh, Rick put on his wide brimmed sheriff’s hat and made his approach adopting a casual non-threatening strut which hopefully would signal his intent to talk and not escalate the situation. As expected, there was a flicker of blinds from several of the homes he passed. The skin on the back of his neck, accustomed to the fieriest of Georgia’s summers, burned with intense dislike and discomfort. He ignored the rows of narrowed eyes peering from behind the slits, instead firmly keeping his gaze on the perplexed woman he was about to approach.

“Evening ma’am.” He greeted her with a friendly yet still somewhat carefully crafted smile.  

She wouldn’t grace him with the same, her response was firm, respectable yet wary. “How can I help you officer?”

Rick maintained his smile, upholding it against the scrutiny of her heavily lashed dark eyes. “Actually, I was hoping I could help you.”

If she could roll her eyes, Rick knew she would have. Scoff at him and rightfully tell him to state his real intent. But this was King’s County and Rick could sense the tension in the air as she carefully contemplated her next move. Rick wanted to make it easier on her, feeling the burden of the situation and knowing he was responsible for it.

A little less forced and a lot more friendly, he attempted to disarm her cautiousness with old fashioned, gentlemanly charm, the kind his dear grandmother taught him to embrace. “I was just on my way home when I saw you and thought; Hey now Rick, what better way to earn them shiny stars pinned to your shirt so handsomely than to assist this young lady on this fine evening.”

He was careful to introduce himself using his Christian name, trying to distance his true self from the uniform he wore. Yet he could do nothing to shield her from the truth. Her expression, still every bit as guarded signaled to him the realities of the world she lived him. She was tall, taut and terribly beautiful even in her indignation.  

The woman replied almost instantly in a Northern accent betraying her as a newcomer. “I’m almost done so no need to bother yourself. Thank you for your time Officer.”

Dismissed but not defeated, Rick pushed forward. “You sure?” He asked because he knew he couldn’t walk away. Not with an audience as enthralled as Romans spectators, ready to rate this performance with a devastating signalling of their thumb. No, he could not leave her, not to the lions.

“Am I under arrest?”

“Excuse me?” Her bluntness surprised him.

“If not, I’d like to be on my way.” She was smart enough not to move until he gave the okay. Rick felt increasingly uncomfortable with the choices he was being presented him.  

“Look, there is no need to worry. Like I said, I was on my way home when – ”

“I heard you.”

Again, Rick was surprised. She cut him off mid excuse – mid lie. Despite her disinterest in his self-serving speech, Rick still foolishly believed he could walk away from this interaction smelling like roses. Sincerely and softly, he made his final mistake. “Then what’s the problem ma’am.”

Then, finally, came the scoff he deserved.

“I could ask you the exact same thing. Which one called you.”

It was enough to render Rick speechless. The jig is up, the measured tone she spoke with could not hide the fury behind her words.

“Which of those disrespectful racists, cowardly peeking from behind their blinds called you.”

Rick did his best not to flinch at her use of what would be deemed the real hard R in these parts. He swallowed hard, truly hating this place and the people in it.

“I just wanna know how I can help with these posters.” He tried again, wanting to so desperately distance himself from the truth. He was their tool, but he could also be here for her. If he could just stop her from tarring him with the same brush. “Maybe even show a taxpayer like yourself that I take my job seriously.”

She wasn’t the problem, Rick wanted to tell her but at the last minute deciding to keep his mouth shut.

She hesitated for a moment, not speaking again but Rick got the message loud and clear.  

You expect me to buy this bull?

Please do, Rick’s eyes begged.

The desperate look in his eyes may have done the job as she sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “Fine you’re gonna protect them. I get it. But I need to know for real, am I being arrested?”

It was a sincere worry and Rick knew he could no longer disrespect her by dodging the question. He shook his head and continued to offer further clarifications on his part. He took a step closer, careful not to spook her but also trying his best to create some privacy before confessing his truth.

“It’s an election year.” He whispered.

“Honestly it’s a pain in the behind trying to be that extra police presence.”

“An election year.” She repeated, a frown forming on her face as she processed the meaning of his words.

“Yep. The bosses got a burr in their saddle about it. So unless you have a baby I can kiss or a hand I can shake – I’d like to do my job and help with those posters, if you don’t mind that is.” Rick’s charm finally worked, he could tell by the relaxed look on her face as she nodded in agreement.

Grateful for the reprieve, Rick nodded courteously before helping her gather her bags, papers, and stapler to move onto the next row of bare lampposts. She had every reason to continue to hold him at arms length for what almost transpired this evening, yet past experiences and perhaps a kindness in her heart had told her that Rick was one of the good ones.

Or at least he was trying to be, her slightly raised eyebrow revealed as they walked, side by side, still somewhat uncomfortably.  

“So, what are we dealing with, a runaway pup or –

“A ‘fly out of the window of a speeding car’ teddy bear.”

“Ah an exotic pet.”

She managed to crack a smile for him and Rick’s heart fluttered slightly.

They decided to set up at the first of the lampposts, the joke acting as a much needed ice-breaker and allowing them to work quickly in perfect coordination; Rick passing her the sheets of paper and her carefully using the staplegun.

The teddy bear photo was printed in black in white, a small scruffy looking thing being held in arms of a toddler with big eyes and an even bigger grin on his face. Underneath, a description typed out with love and desperation – Help Mr. Bear come home to Andre.

“He belongs to my son. He’s three and I really need it back.” There was a real grief behind her words, her dark eyes not watery but not very far from it.

“I get it.” Rick said staring at the side of her face as she turned away from him. “I really do.” He repeated, careful to just be expressing empathy from one parent to another and internally reminding himself of his own commitment as a father and husband. “He can’t sleep without it right?”

“Something like that.”

“Right. Well let’s get this street and the next done, so you can get back home in time for tuck in time.”

“Thank you, Officer.”

“You’re welcome Ma’am.”

Things were going well and soon this watchful stranger was replaced by incredibly interesting company. 

Pulling a face of mock disgust at the proper way he continued to call her Ma’am, the woman finally just told him her name. It was one he’d never heard before but liked the sound of anyway. Michonne from Manhattan. An art teacher and painter looking to find new inspiration in the Deep South. A mother. The new owner of the Old Kent Farmhouse, self-renovating the crumbling place after the death of the owner and looking to make a home here in this town. Rick listened to her talk and was surprised to see how animated and easy going she was. Deep within him, he felt the shame rising up again from their initial introduction. Her hostility had been understandable, his behavior had not. Still, he was glad he took the call and glad it was him that got the chance to meet this charming woman with the most infectious smile.

She asked him about this town and Rick told her that despite all its faults, it was home and he hoped it could be hers to. She responded optimistically and Rick fought back the urge to apologize for what he knew she had already figured out about the people that lived here. Instead he told her tales about his own son Carl, now twelve years old but still somewhat sentimental about his favorite childhood toy – a dusty blue, stuffed elephant called Frump. He made sure not to tell her about his wife Lori, who had won the stuffed toy at the summer fair when they were seventeen and still in love.

If his job was just a job these days, then his marriage was one too. It was exhausting knowing what waited for him when he arrived home later. For weeks now, his wedding band pinched at his finger uncomfortably, from the weight gained from the drive-thru burgers he ate in his car as he agonized over the state of his marriage with his bachelor pal and partner Shane Walsh. Today, however, he had made plans to make it home for dinner and face the problems head on. Instead here he was, cherishing a few moments of casual conversation about his day that dazzled Michonne but would’ve drained Lori.

And to Rick Grimes, Christian, Father, Husband – this was was devastating.

Still, they got talking and Rick had almost gotten away with it.  

That was until reality came crushing down in the form of the always delightful Ed Peletier, marching up the street like a bull. Red in the face and practically foaming at the mouth, Ed did what Ed always did.

“Sheriff Grimes.”

Rick managed a curt nod in response for a man he so openly despised. “How can I help Ed?”

“I’d like a word.”

“Sure thing, as soon as I finish up with Michonne here. She’s new to town. Michonne, this is Ed Peletier – local entrepreneur of sorts.”

Read between the lines you redneck asshole. Rick begged, hoping that by revealing Michonne’s status as a homeowner and a part of this community, the information would be enough to put a muzzle on Ed.

Ed however was predictably impatient, after darting a brief but filthy look at the hand Michonne had courteously extended, the gruff man continued to completely ignore her and keep his wild eyes on Rick, whose own hands were itching to punch the man.

With a resigned expression and a quick apology, Rick handed back the posters and followed Ed across the street to the front of his house. There they were met by Carol Peletier, Ed’s patient wife, standing at an open door with a concerned expression on her face.

“Evenin’ Carol.” Rick called out, a genuine warm smile on his face. As much as he despised Ed, he pitied Carol. A small, fragile looking woman with graying hair beyond her years.

“Hello Rick.”

Pleasantries aside and out of Michonne’s earshot, Rick turned to the man who dragged him away from her. “What do you want Ed.”

He dropped the friendly act in favor of a venomous look, bearing no good will for Ed Peletier and the company he kept in this town. 

“I wanna know what you’re playing at Grimes.”

“Families live here. Children.”

Rick could barely maintain his composure, his head tilting at the implication of Ed’s words.

“You have a job to do. Get rid of her.”

“Now on what grounds would that be Ed?” Rick asked. His voice now a low, menacing growl. Ed’s blue eyes were bulging out of their sockets at the audacity of Rick’s question. All too familiar with her husband’s temper, Carol Peletier, placed her hands bravely onto Ed’s arm, holding him back for his own sake.

Rick scowled, frustrated at the woman’s gesture. Carol had no business protecting a man who put her in the hospital on more than one occasion. Despite their struggles, Rick couldn’t even imagine ever laying a hand on his wife. Still, despite the help offered to her, for a reason only known to her – Carol Peletier remained the dutiful wife.

It was a heartbreaking reality Rick had come to accept.

Carol’s actions worked, the brutish looking man was reminded that Rick Grimes was not a friend of his and if given the excuse, would be more than happily fire six warning shots into the thick head wearing that Braves’ baseball cap. Breathing heavily and polluting the air with whiskey fumes, Ed made his next move.

“She don’t belong here.” Ed finally spat out, unable to put things anymore delicately than that.

“She’s passing through.” Rick said firmly, his eyes unblinking and angry. He remained as calm as possible, knowing he wouldn’t have to do much when it came to Ed Peletier. Sooner or later, he’d be hauling his fat ass into that patrol car and back to the station. It was a dance that was all too familiar to the three figures standing at the doorway of the Peletier residence.

Ed was never a measured man and Rick’s challenge made him foolish enough to continue shooting his mouth off. “She’s loitering! Her and that garbage she’s pinning to our lampposts.”

Ed’s bellowing was drawing an audience from his young daughter, Sophia. The girl was the same age as Carl but with a sadness in her eyes that aged her the same way it did her mother. The shouting was enough for a curious and concerned Michonne to abandon her things, cross the street and walk towards the Peletier’s house.

“Is everything okay?” Michonne asked, politely leaning in over the fence stopping at her waist.

It was an innocent enough query and the woman never entered the property but as far as Ed was concerned she had crossed a line.  

“It’s your job to do something about shit like this. Fucking negroes encroaching upon our domicile like this! Disturbing the peace! It’s not decent I tell you!”

Rick snapped at the slur. “Decent? Like your wife-beating, racist, drunken ass would know the meaning of the word!”

And that was all it took.  

The situation escalated in mere minutes. Ed, ready to swing a fist at Rick, only to be intercepted by his quick thinking, self-sacrificing wife. The small woman clung onto her husband’ ham of an arm for dear life, causing him to explode in further fury and her at the receiving end of a closefisted hit from the free hand. It would have been enough to stop there, for Ed to realize he made his point as Carol fell back toward the open door, into their hallway and onto the hardwood floor – taking their poor daughter down with her. But in the eyes of Ed Peletier, any act against him was unforgivable insubordination, something he could not let go unaddressed.

Rick and Michonne were no longer on his radar.

Within seconds, he began shamelessly pounding on his wife with everything he had, completely disregarding the fact there were witnesses standing a few feet away, one of them being an officer of the law.

In between a flurry of violent, merciless kicks and punches, Ed managed to call his blameless wife a stream of obscenities, ignoring the desperate screams coming from his terrified young daughter and the shout to desist from Rick.

It took a full minute for Rick to finally pull Ed off of Carol and away from Sophia. Furious at how much damage Ed managed to inflict, Rick didn’t hold back when he had the chance, roughly shoving the bastard’s face into the gravel of the footpath outside the house. Ed struggled under Rick’s weight, choking on the stones and dirt he was getting a mouth full of. Still full of rage, he continued to make threats against his wife who was covered in red welts and bleeding from a bust lip and cut eyebrow.

Rick expected to see Michonne still standing at the gate, shell shocked at what just occurred before her or at least in angry tears at the racial slurs that were being hurled in her direction. Instead, Rick was surprised to see, she was knelt by his side, stone faced and strong – helping secure Ed as he put on the handcuffs.

She had his back during the struggle. Leaping into action the way only a trained protector would. She told him she was an art teacher, Rick thought briefly, curious to know the rest of her story once all of this was over. 

Ed, unlike Rick, did not appreciate Michonne’s proximity to his sweaty, dirt covered body. Despite being cuffed and beaten, he managed to turn his head just enough to spit violently at Michonne’s chest and face.

In that moment, all Rick saw was red. His weapon was drawn in an instance and threateningly pressed against the back of Ed’s neck.

Michonne jumped up and away from Rick but he could barely register the look of shock on her face at the way events escalated. It was Sophia and Carol’s screaming, however, that he found harder to ignore.

The mother and daughter were pleading with Rick – for Ed’s life. Tears streaming from their face and their anguished cries of “Please, please, please! Jesus Christ – oh God, no please” drawing a crowd. Suddenly, the street was flooded with residents. Curious murmurs turning quickly into panic. But Rick couldn’t see the faces of the community he swore to protect. He could only hear their voices.

“Someone do something!”

“Someone call the police.”

“He is the police.”

“What is happening Honey?”

“Who is she?”

“Rick.”

Her voice, in a sea of buzzing white noise, it cut through to him and for a brief enough moment, Michonne brought him back. 

Suddenly, Rick was surprised more by his own actions than the reaction of the people around him. Ed was scum but he was handcuffs. This wouldn’t be self-defense but a coldblooded murder. 

“Rick.” Her voice again but this time in his own mind, gently trying to remind him of what had promised her. 

He was one of the good ones. 

That thought was enough to finally sober Rick’s mind. The deafening drumming inside his skull stopped, rage no longer pumping blood and adrenaline to his trigger finger. In between deep breaths he managed to calm himself enough to place the gun into its holder.

Ed, who had been as stiff as a corpse finally relaxed as Rick stood up. Carol threw herself onto her husband’s cuffed body, sobbing still, her eyes never leaving Rick – more afraid of the man protecting her than she was of the man who hurt her for years.  

For a while, no one spoke. They stood there, processing what just nearly happened.

Finally, Sophia stepped forward.

“Leave.” She said looking Rick in the eye. “Before I call the police again.”

Again.

Rick couldn’t hide the surprise on his face. So it wasn’t any of the people gawking or some ignorant prejudicial neighbor from across the street who had called the station; it wasn’t even Ed, an out and proud white supremacist – it was this small, fragile, eleven years old girl. 

“Please.”

She wasn’t begging him. Trembling slightly, she straightened her shoulders to face down a man with a gun, a man she admits to having called in the first place.

But why?

Rick wanted to ask, but it took a quick look at the deep purple older bruises on Carol Peletier’s exposed shoulders and the evil the mere presence Michonne had brought out in Sophia’s father, for Rick to realize the answer for himself.

She was trying to protect them, including Michonne. 

The crowd was growing, neighbors having knocked on other neighbors doors regarding the drama Rick knew they deep down had been expecting – but probably with Michonne as a tragic player not a baffled bystander.

Distracted by the righteous anger beginning to bubble up inside him, Rick decided to address the prying eyes.

“Alright folks, now that Ed here’s calmed down a bit I’m sure you can all agree there are more interesting things that await you inside your own homes.”

“I think we’d just like to know what all this commotion is about Sheriff Grimes.” A familiar voice asked.

Rick felt a twitch in his neck, but replied as calmly as possible to the elderly man with questioning eyes sitting under a dark set of eyebrows and sunhat. “Ah I’m sure you all already do, Dale.”  

Dale let out a sad sigh, showing some humility and awareness. Rick had run into him on previous call outs to this neighborhood. He knew the retired educator to be a good man, taking it upon himself to help out Carol on occasion - administering First Aid or giving her a car ride to the hospital. That said, the same couldn’t be said for the rest of these vultures.

“You heard me first time people. I won’t say it again. Clear out. NOW!”

Rick stared down the residents, knowing very well this would find a way of getting back to his superiors but frankly not giving a shit.

“Right now, let the officer do his job. Come now, time to get out of this heat and back to our couches.” Dale’s mild waves had the power to disperse a crowd far quicker than a water canon and Rick was grateful for the powers of the former school principal.  

The elderly man was about to make his exit when Ed piped up again.

“Where you going you old Jew bastard?” He cried out, flailing on the floor like a sea lion. “You all saw what he did, he’s not a cop. He’s a thug. You’re my witness!”

“Oh Edward, you were a bully in school and you’re just a bigger one now. Don’t make things worse for yourself.” With a disapproving glare and a sigh of disgust, Dale Horvath returned to his own home, a couple doors down from the Peletiers.

Relieved the excitement was drawing to an end, Rick let out of a sigh, he turned to Michonne, who during the uproar had returned to the guarded state he met her in. She was however gently tending to Sophia, her arms protectively around the girl’s shoulders. 

“You okay?” He asked and she relaxed, reassuring him with a small smile.

“You okay?” She asked him back and he did the same.

Rick then turned to the little girl in Michonne’s arms, knowing he too needed to somehow comfort her. “I’m sorry.” He told Sophia, truly meaning the words. “But I’m taking your father in. I have to and I think you agree.”

The girl glanced down at her mother’s battered body, lain over a man who continued to curse under his breath about being betrayed by his own blood.

“Mom.” She said weakly. “Please.”

When Rick began to approach Ed, Carol didn’t start up her screams in defense of her husband. Her daughter’s plea had rendered her speechless. Michonne stepped forward, carefully placing her arms around Carol’s shoulders and with gentle words coaxed her away from the toxic man she had married, instead steering her toward the daughter that needed her. The three women, then stood by, letting Rick do his job. Neither his daughter nor wife were treating Michonne with the same revulsion Ed had, instead grateful for the cover and calm she provided them with.

Rick knew it was a sight that in the future would cause daily bitterness to the prick he had just dragged up from the ground and that warmed his own heart significantly.

Heading to back to his police cruiser with Ed Peletier in tow, Rick Grimes felt a burst of optimism. Maybe things could be different in this small town full of stone throwers. Perhaps some honest to God good could be done, by those willing to commit to acting on their conscience. Something to shock the small minded, their stale sermons and suspicious stares.

Rick took one last look at the trio of women in his rear view window. The sun was almost gone, but as he drove away the white of Michonne’s blouse remained visible in the amber rays. Striking as a knight’s armor, Rick thought, affectionately thinking back to her noble quest for a lost bear.  

“That bitch made the mistake of her life tonight.”

Ed Peletier said from the back of the car, spewing his hate like the last rings of smoke coming from a defeated dragon. His intoxicated, blood shot eyes reflected back at Rick’s calm blue ones but there was no need for a response as Ed slunk back into the seat looking smaller and more wretched than he’d ever looked before. Nothing but a pain parasite, severed from its source of strength.

It had finally happened.

He was finally done counting the times he had to let this man go back to hurting that family all over again.

Rick told himself this lie with little else to fear.

But with all things concerning this town of his, this job of his and this frequently disappointing life he was committed to – Rick Grimes’s optimistic outlook would be a premature one. Just over the horizon there waited the all too familiar failure of busted jaws, and broken promises.  

In a month’s time they’d end up in back in this place.

And the month after that, Rick would be praying to be back here once. Back to a time where things weren’t all that bad – dealing with bruises instead of a bloated, lifeless body. 

[silviajburke]

America’s Silent Crisis

This post America’s Silent Crisis appeared first on Daily Reckoning.

I ran into some disturbing news recently. News that makes me both angry and perplexed.

And it has to do with America’s pensions.

But here’s why it’s so important — even if you don’t have a pension:

Your tax bill could explode as governments around the country seek to bail out insolvent pension plans. And you know how much politicians like to use your tax money to bail out some constituent. They like to prove their “compassion” with your money!

And frankly, the disturbing news I recently discovered could wreck your retirement plans.

All because some bozos on Wall Street are completely inept at investment management. Actually, I’m not sure it’s it’s incompetence… or sheer laziness. But frankly, it really doesn’t matter.

What matters is that millions of retirees are going to wake up one day and realize that their pension fund payments stopped coming. At the same time, tens of millions of retirees are going to wake up to a market calamity.

And it all ties back to the miserable job U.S. pension fund managers are doing.

Let me explain…

As you know, we’re currently in a long-term bull market for stocks. Ever since the market bottomed following the financial crisis, stocks have been moving steadily higher. The current bull market is one of the longest-standing bull markets in history, now approaching eight straight years of advances.

In fact, I read where this is currently the third-longest bull market in modern history.

You would think that pension funds would be benefiting from this extreme bull market, right? After all, we know that there is a pension crisis in the U.S., with an estimated $414 billion shortfall in what corporations need to be able to pay retirees.

But instead of investing in the stock market, allowing strong returns to make up pension shortfalls, pension fund managers have been underweighting U.S. stocks.

Regardless of whether the market is in a Fed-inflated bubble, no one can deny that it’s been an impressive run. And pension plans are missing the boat.

You see, when the financial crisis hit, pension funds reduced their exposure to stocks to the lowest level since the 1960s. Ironically, this is the exact time that pension funds should have been increasing their exposure to stocks!

Over the next eight years, not much changed. As the market plowed steadily higher, pension fund managers kept their portfolios conservative — allocating capital to things like Treasury bonds and “investment-grade” corporate bonds that paid next to nothing.

Remember, this is an eight-year period with interest rates at or near zero percent! What a horrible time to be invested in bonds!

So during one of the greatest bull markets in history, pension fund managers have put their investors’ capital on the sidelines, missing out on huge potential gains and investing in bonds that pay next to nothing in interest.

Can you see why I’m so angry?

But if you somehow think your Social Security retirement package is any better, think again. The Social Security trust fund has zero exposure to the current bull market. Instead, the fund invests in U.S. Treasury bonds. The very same bonds that are paying next to nothing in interest.

According to research firm Nolo, the Social Security trust fund will run out of money in 2035. That’s less than 20 years from today.

It’s unclear what will happen to Social Security payments at this point, but there’s a good chance your benefit checks will be much lower than what you’ve been promised.

And even if they’re not technically lower, you could still be getting ripped off…

The fact is that you’re being lied to. That’s the sad fact when it comes to government data on inflation. The phrase “lies, damned lies, and statistics” may have been popularized by Mark Twain, but the concept is still every bit as vibrant when it comes to current economic measurements.

Unfortunately, those “damned lies and statistics” are likely cutting into the retirement payments you currently receive, or expect to receive in the future…

This year, the Social Security Administration graciously gave seniors a 0.3% Cost of Living Adjustment (or “COLA”). In other words, Retirees who collect monthly Social Security payments, were treated to a miniscule raise to cover higher living expenses.

As you may know, the low adjustment is based primarily on the government’s measures of inflation.

Which are a joke!

You see, the labor department’s “Consumer-Price Index” is designed to measure costs for consumers, and tell us if inflation is rising. A rising CPI indicates that it takes more dollars to pay for goods and services. And if the CPI is steady, it means that prices are not rising and inflation is not a problem.

Of course, like most statistics, the CPI can be manipulated to tell you whatever you want to hear. And in this case, the government wants you to hear that inflation is tame.

That way, they don’t have to increase Social Security payments

That way, the Fed can justify juicing the economy with lower interest rates

That way, politicians can gloss over the rising costs of living for seniors, claiming that “inflation is not a problem”

In short, the Cost of Living Adjustment calculation makes a mockery out of the U.S. program that is supposed to provide retirement income for U.S. workers.

But here are a couple key points you might not realize…

The “core inflation” reading strips out important costs such as food and energy. So if gasoline prices rise, or if it costs you twice as much to buy groceries as it did a few years ago, that doesn’t matter. These costs are considered too “volatile” and so they’re excluded from the calculations.

(Last time I checked, all of us still have to pay for gasoline, and we still had to eat. So why does it make sense to exclude these prices from inflation readings just because they’re “volatile”?)

On the other hand, inflation for expenses like medical costs and rent rates are moving sharply higher.

You may think that higher rental expenses won’t matter much to seniors. After all, you’d expect many retirees to own their homes outright with little or no mortgage expense.

But the baby boomer generation still has plenty of debt (a material amount tied to real estate). Plus, even for retirees who own their homes outright, rising real estate prices helps to drive property taxes higher.

While I don’t expect the government to change their methods for measuring inflation anytime soon, that doesn’t mean you can’t fight back.

Relying on Social Security payments to fund your retirement is simply wishful thinking. It’s clear that you can’t count on corporate pensions or Social Security payments to fund your retirement. Those systems are broken and will not likely be fixed without severe pain to the markets and to taxpayers.

You probably already suspect this. I’m just reiterating how important it is to have a backup plan.

So what can you do to protect your standard of living during retirement?

I believe the best way to protect and grow your retirement wealth is to invest in a handful of alternative opportunities.

These opportunities can lead to reliable income payments that are much larger than what you could expect from Social Security or your corporate pension plan. And these opportunities give you control of your financial future.

But by taking responsibility for your own retirement and taking advantage of some nontraditional investment opportunities, you can secure a reliable and fulfilling retirement.

Regards,

Zach Scheidt for The Daily Reckoning

The post America’s Silent Crisis appeared first on Daily Reckoning.

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