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sparklingchan · 4 years

Text

Checkmate || Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

Pairing : Reader (fem.) X Bang Chan

Word count : 14k + ( oops-)

Warnings: A few cuss words , suggestive, mentions of death / murder / beheading and blood.NOT PROOF READ I’M SO SORRY.

Genre : Fluff, angst, romance ,strangers to lovers , Alice in Wonderland au, Royal au(a tiny bit) .

Description: Alice in Wonderland is just a story , or so you were made to believe.

A/N: This story is loosely based on the story of Alice in Wonderland. I always wanted to write Chan in a fictional universe and FINALLY I AM DONE WITH THIS STORY! I have twisted a few facts from the original story to fit my plot so not everything is the same.

Enjoy!

Weekends have had a special place in your heart ever since you were old enough to understand the importance of the last two days of the week in a normal human's life. For a long time , weekends meant going out with friends , partying, camping , eating , relaxing. Weekends meant your mom's scoldings in the morning , the sound of your dad's old radio, your brother's laughter. Weekends meant happiness.

But for sometime now, these definitions have changed. Drastically . Now weekends mean finishing presentations, cleaning your room , washing dirty dishes in the company of the empty corners of your solo apartment. Weekends now mean loneliness.

"Yes ,mom. I have been eating the herbal medicine you sent." You were never able to lie to your mom as a kid or even as a teenager. But the adult 'you' could easily do it. Lying to your mom was as easy as breathing now.

"Are you sure,y/n?" She asks in a stern voice.

You look at your small dining table , at the herbal medicine packet that lies there, as good new. And you let out a tired sigh , pressing your phone closer to your ear.

"Yes."

It had been an exceptionally tiring day at work today. And as you flop down on your couch with your mom still on call ,you wonder why you were feeling this sudden tiredness - all you did today at office was listen to your new boss boast about her achievements and your annoying colleagues kissing up to her as if she were some kind of Messiah.

"Aren't you coming home this weekend?" Your mom's tone now changes. She sounds worried, almost sad, "Dad and I miss you so much. Minho comes home often but we rarely get to see you."

Your eyes fall on the family picture hanging in the wall in front of the couch. It was the summer of your third birthday. Your mom and dad sat on the carpet while you and Minho stacked up legos to make a multi coloured house. The smile on your faces splash a wave of nostalgia towards you and you accept it wholeheartedly.

"I miss you guys too but I don't think I'll make it ,mom. I'm so sorry. " you say with a suppressed yawn, "But I will be going over to Minho's on Sunday so don't worry. We'll facetime you guys then." You feel your eyes get heavier but for the sake of your mom and your empty stomach ,you try your best to not fall asleep.

"Okay, okay. Sounds good. " your mom replies, "See you soon. Love you ,baby. "

You smile at her cheesy yet sweet words. Your mom has always been a fluff ball, just like your dad. But you and your elder brother didn't inherit that sweetness, sadly. "Love you too, mom." You reply.

And then the line goes silent.

You close your eyes, just to rest for a moment before having to cook dinner and working on your next week's presentation. But your eyelids feel like they suddenly weigh a lot more than they did a few minutes ago, like they were made of lead and you couldn't even lift them for a second more.

And before you know it, you've already drifted off into dreamland with your office clothes still on and your empty stomach growling.

For some reason , you'd always been a morning person. You've never had trouble waking up for school or college or work on time, where as your friends and colleagues were all heavy sleepers - they could sleep even through earthquakes.

You remember as kids ,all of your mom's friends would complain about how their kids wouldn't get their asses up for school in the morning and needed to be practically dragged out of bed while your mom just smiled and nodded in response. You probably adopted this habit from Minho ; he might be an annoying idiot most of the time but you have to give him credit where it's due.

And when your eyes open a few hours later, naturally , you expect it to be a bright , sunny morning.

But you're disappointed to see that it's still dark outside.

The lights of your living room are still on and the television is playing some stupid movie in the background , just the way it had been when you came back home from work and switched it on. Rubbing the sleep away from your eyes, you look at the clock on the wall. 3:45 AM, it reads.

"Goddamn it," you push yourself off the couch ,still groggy from your nap, your whole body aching . You grab your phone and office bag and waddle to your bedroom ,in hopes of finishing your much needed nap.

The hallways of your house are dark but familiar so it takes no time for you to find your room's door. Groaning , you close it behind you and walk towards your bed, a homely , comforting feeling enveloping you like a soft blanket. The lights of the room are switched off as usual , and the cold air of the room makes your skin tingle. You smell your signature perfume in the air and the room freshener you use, and surprisingly, a very strange, foreign smell that you are sure you had never smelt in your house before - the smell of grass and mud on a rainy day.

"What the-" you mutter to yourself as your mind finally starts functioning properly again , coming out of your post nap trance and all your senses suddenly switching to high alert mode.

It wasn't raining right now ,nor had it been raining in the evening when you came home so there's no way that this smell was carried in by you. You remember seeing droplets of rain run down the office windows during your lunch break, which means it had rained only a little bit during afternoon. Did someone enter your house in the afternoon?

Your heart starts hammering against your chest. Something feels wrong ,very wrong.

And you quickly realize you were right - because the moment you take a step away from your bed , your feet gets stuck onto something and you crash on the floor. Face down.

"Ow, shit - WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THAT?"

Turns out ,your feet didn't get stuck on a 'something ' , it was rather a ' someone '.

In all honesty, you had never seen a man as handsome as the one that lies on your bedroom floor right now, his hands and feet sprawled out as if he were sleeping on his own bed, his lips parted and hair damp. And if it weren't for his slow , steady breathing and the flush across his cheeks , you'd have almost thought he was dead.

You want to scream. And you do.

You should have called the police the moment you saw him, you think , but you didn't- more like you couldn't.

You are scared obviously, as you frantically check all your lockers and drawers to make sure he hadn't stolen anything. You check his pant pockets but find nothing. You even consider calling your brother but something was stopping you from doing so .

There is something about this man - maybe his extra silky looking clothes , maybe the weird pendant around his neck or maybe just the mere gut feeling that he might actually be the victim, not the criminal - that just wouldn't let you pick up the phone and call the authorities, even though you have their number on speed dial.

"Can I get another slice of bread ,please?" You snap out of your thoughts on hearing his husky, honey-like voice, call out to you, only to realize that you'd been staring at his face as if he were an alien.

Maybe he is an alien....

Embarrassed at being caught red handed, your cheeks flush as you nod your head and pass the man sitting on your dining table,right in front of you, his fifth slice of bread. Damn, he must have been starving.

"Thank you ,miss y/n." He replies with a polite smile, applying butter on the bread with the butter knife Minho had left at your place on your last birthday.

You want to return his smile ,you really do, but you can't find it in yourself to keep your curiosity suppressed anymore. You've never been so intrigued by a living,breathing human before, not to this extent at least.

A few hours ago, when he woke up after you dragged him off from the floor and laid him on your bed, you half expected him to attack you with a weapon or strangle you or threaten you for money but all he did was politely ask if you were the owner of this 'warm and cozy ' house and your name. He even called you ' a kind lady ' when you offered him breakfast and medicine for the slight fever he complained of , out of nothing but pure curiosity and intrigue.

"What was your name , again, sir?" You ask , putting down your chopsticks after deciding your breakfast wasn't that important anymore ,"and where do you come from?"

He sits up straight, the smile on his lips slowly dissolving into a frown. Did you say something wrong?

"I'm Bang Christopher Chan. But I usually go by Chan, " he answers the first part of your question and when he notices your anticipating eyes ,waiting for him to answer the next part , he looks down at his plate, as if embarrassed. "I wish I could tell you where I come from ,my lady ,but I can't and you wouldn't believe me either way. "

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion ; first of all ,this man - Chan - ends up in your room, passed out and sick , secondly he wears such expensive looking ,vintage clothes and lastly, the man speaks as if he were an actor in a Shakespearean play and now he refuses to tell you where he comes from.

He is feeding into your alien theory a little more than you expected.

"Well we won't know that unless you tell me." you reply with pleading eyes, curiosity getting the best of you. He shakes his head and presses his lips together in a firm smile, dragging his chair across the floor and standing up, "I'm afraid I can't do that."

You only watch in awe as he walks towards your main door in strange yet elegant steps. He turns around to look at you, "I express my heartfelt gratitude for everything you've done for me, my sweet lady. You gave me shelter and food and your magical herbs cured my sickness. I will never forget this favour of yours."

Magical herbs? Is he talking about your mom's herbal medicine?

You gulp, not knowing how to reply to his sudden expression of gratitude. With an INTP personality type, you've always found it hard to express yourself to people around you, even if your life depended on it and this time isn't any different either.

"W-well it was my pleasure." You stutter, "But where are you going now anyway?"

He runs his fingers through his silky , fluffy blonde hair and licks his dry lips. "I'm going to look for a friend. He might be able to help me."

"How will you find him? Do you have his phone number or address?" You ask. He shakes his head, "I'm afraid not. What's a phone number, by the way?"

Your eyes widen at his question, your mind running wild with possibilities of what might actually be going on with Chan. You've only ever seen things like this in movies and shows - a random person with no memory whatsoever meets the main character and they set out on an adventure together. And as curious as you were to find out whether Chan brings adventure with him too , you didn't want to get yourself involved in something so messy.

"It's a number via which you can contact people using this device." You say , showing him the led screen of your phone.

His mouth gapes at you , his eyes shaking with curiosity.

Oh this one is a gone case ,you think.

"I'll help you find your friend. What's his name?" You ask him again.

Still in fascination with your phone , he barely whispers his friend's name but thankfully you catch it,

"Lee Felix."

You hate driving . Period. Especially on weekends when the roads are full of impatient cars going off to picnics ,goods trucks trying to finish business as soon as possible , two wheelers which are the location of all the PDA in the world. You aren't used to seeing such happy traffic.

But here you are ,driving this mysterious yet charming man to his friend's place.

Lee Felix ,as the internet tells you , is an owner of a medicinal shop and is pretty well known among people for his homemade medicines and ointments. It only took one tap on your search engine to find out his location.

"So who exactly is this friend of yours?" The car has been quite ever since you left your apartment and you couldn't take it anymore - not when Chan just sits beside you , his fingers tapping on his leg with anxiousness.

He looks up at you , "He's more like a little brother to me , honestly. I grew up with his family - playing with his friends and his siblings. But he moved out of our hometown to do business. He still comes home sometimes but lives here most of the time. "

Now, that's the kind of information you'd been seeking for since the morning. He's slowly but surely warming upto you.

"So you're here to take him home or what?" you ask.

He shakes his head with a grim expression. "No, of course not. I wish I could but he is happy here , tells me he has a lover now and lots of friends. I'm happy for him. And anyway ," he pauses for second , "I'm here to hide. "

You find your heart race at the last word. He's hiding, but from what? From who? Is he a criminal that is trying to save himself from punishment? Or something worse?

Shit. This is not a good idea at all.

If your brother were here , he'd have flicked your forehead so hard it would have hurt for days. Maybe you even deserve it this time.

"From what?" You ask ,your voice only a whisper.

He sighs ,leaning against the window and looking out with thoughtful eyes.

"I really can't tell you, my lady." He replies.

Before you could question him further ,you see a house emerging in the distance and immediately recognize it as Lee Felix 's home plus workshop. Reluctantly, you pull over in front of the huge wooden house.

"How do I open the door ?" Chan asks with an innocent smile when you're about to get out. You let out a small chuckle and put your hand on your own door handle, "Press the black button here and push the door gently. " You demonstrate and he picks it up quickly, joining you as you stand on the porch of this Felix dude's house.

Chan knocks on the door with urgency, and for the first time today, he seems a little relaxed now. Like a weight from his shoulders had been lifted, and you don't have the heart to tell him that there's a doorbell directly on his right.

You hear quick shuffling behind the door and within a second ,the door opens to reveal a man - probably Felix - with bright orange hair and a big smile.

Brothers , you remember Chan's words.

They really do look like brothers as Felix jumps on Chan,embracing him like he had just saved his life. You don't miss the quiet sniffing from Chan and the tears that accumulate in Felix's eyes as they pat each other on the back , mumbling ' I missed you's to each other.

"I was so worried, Chan." Felix pulls away , grabbing Chan's shoulders, " I thought you'd gone to Marmoreal . Why didn't you tell me you were here?"

The name Marmoreal rings a bell in your head ,for sure. You'd heard that place before many times but as you search through your memories and try to find the exact context of that name , you fail to find it. It feels like you'd heard it almost in a dream.

"I just arrived here last night. Wasn't a very pleasant ride ,if you ask me. " Chan says , giggling.

Felix giggles too and then his eyes land on your confused face , as he let's go of Chan.

"And who might this fair lady be?" He asks with a pleasant smile.

Brilliant. Another actor from a Shakespearean play.

"Oh,right," Chan chuckles. " This is y/n, the kind lady who let me stay at her house for the night. "

No,he ended up in your room out of nowhere, you want to say ,but you swallow the words. You didn't want Chan to think of you as rude.

"Hello, Miss Y/n. " he smiles, " You've done us both such favour by housing him. We will not forget this. " Felix says, bowing his head to you.

Awkwardness is what you feel as you force a smile and nod in response,your palms sweating from the unexpected words , "You're welcome,I guess. "

Felix leads the two of you inside the house and you are greeted by a lovely young lady, who looks about your age - Felix's lover ,you assume.She walks in with a freshly baked cake in her gloved hands, her eyes shining the moment she sees the both of you.

"Oh,my dear." She runs to you , " Prince Chan! I have heard so much about you. Felix talks about you all the time. And oh,my, who's this lovely lady?"

Prince Chan .

Prince Chan.

Chan is a prince?

You look at him ,your eyes wide with confusion and doubt and he looks back at you with a nervous expression, like he didn't want the girl to address him as a prince.

"Yeah, " Felix clears his throat, raising his eyebrows at the girl in front of you , as if asking her to keep quiet. "This is Chan and the woman who provided him shelter last night- y/n."

"Oh my apologies," she replies with a smile, probably getting Felix's message, "Hello, Chan, Y/n, I'm Felix's girlfriend, Tracy. " She says as she clings on to Felix's arm and he stares adoringly at her like she is a rare ,precious diamond that no man could ever have but him.

You've seen that look before - in your parents eyes when they tease each other , in your brother's eyes when he talks about his boyfriend , in your ex boyfriend's eyes. You almost feel jealous.

"Hello ,Tracy." Both you and Chan say at the same time and then awkwardly stare at each other.

Tracy giggles.

"Anyway, Chan and I have important things to talk about. " Felix wiggles out of her grip and takes Chan by the arm ," Tracy, my love, would you please see to it that Miss Y/n here is not bored."

And Tracy surely did make sure you weren't bored for a single second.

She takes you into their medicine workshop, showing you the different herbs and fruits and vegetables they use to make the herbal medicine. She shows you the various jars full of these medicines and ointments. Her eyes shine with passion when she talks to you and it makes you realize how happy this makes her.

It is not an hour later,when she offers you a slice of cake and a cup of coffee that you find in yourself to ask Tracy about Chan and Felix and whatever happened back in their hometown.

"Ah,right. Their home." A sad expression falls on her ,as she stirs her coffee, " I wish I could tell you , I really do but unless Felix or Chan ask of me , I cannot do it."

The same response, again and again. "But I'm curious..... and scared." You mutter.

Tracy clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth ,"Sweetie, I know you are and I don't blame you. But it is not my place to decide if I can reveal a secret or not....yet I can tell you this- Chan is not dangerous or anything of that sort. He's in fact the one in danger, in need of protection. "

Shocked, you stare at Tracy ,not being able to form proper words. Your prediction was right, Chan was in fact the victim.

You feel chills down your spine.

"Do you come from that place too?" You ask again.

"Oh no, I wish , sweetheart, I wish but no. I'm from this city itself. Born and raised. " she replies with a slight chuckle.

You want to ask her if Chan and Felix had come from a different planet but you stop yourself just in time when the boys arrive into the workshop.

"I'm afraid we'll have to bid them farewell now, miss y/n." Chan says with a sad smile and you wonder if he said that to console his own self.

"You've been so ,so kind to Chan. I would just ask you to do one last thing for him -" Felix starts, " Can you please drop him at the Levanter hotel ?"

Your forehead creases with confusion, "Why ? Will he not be staying with you?"

"No, I'm afraid not. He'll be easier to find in my house out of all the places. He won't be very safe here." Felix admits, embarrassed.

"Then he can stay at my place. He doesn't have to live all alone." Your mouth speaks out those words without giving a second thought to the idea of Chan actually living with you - you said you didn't want trouble but here you were ,being a big ass hypocrite.

"Well I don't see a problem with that, "Tracy chimes in , grinning, "and besides ,I like to believe that Chan would rather enjoy your company than be alone."

Your cheeks burn red as Tracy yet again puts you and Chan in an awkward place. His eyes are fixed on your face while yours are everywhere but him.

"Its settled then. " Felix says as the couple escorts you and Chan to your car. And just before you drive off, you hear Felix say to Chan, "I think we can trust the lady. Tell her about Underland. Tell her about home."

You love listening to stories. You remember your dad telling you and Minho stories ever night when you were kids and how you found it difficult to sleep without listening to his stories. Stories make you happy, they make your mind wonder about the infinite possibilities in this vast universe and how you happened to be where you were at the exact moment when the story was told.

Stories fascinate you .

With a voice as serious as your dad's, Chan starts, "I and Felix come from a far, far away place called Underland. You humans might know of it as Wonderland because of that one writer who stumbled upon our kingdom one day and decided to write a stupid book about it." He almost sounds angry when he speaks the last line.

"Anyway, I and Felix belong to Underland, which was ruled by the First Great White Queen's descendants for centuries. But everything changed when my grand father - The Last White King passed away. My father were to take the throne by blood right but then a blood descendant of the First Red Queen arrived and claimed Underland as hers. She killed all remaining members of the White Queen's family, my parents, my brothers and sisters," he pauses for a second ,blinking away tears. Your heart clenches with sadness , "But she couldn't kill me; I was just a baby. The youngest of them all. So she banished me to the Enchanted Forest forever ,to live with The Hatters which was Felix's family. In the forest , I grew up with his siblings - Sana, Momo , Me and Felix were inseparable. And we played with the Dormouse , the Cheshire Cat, the White Rabbit , March Hare all day. It was lovely, almost like a dream. Never once did I want to live a royal life or desire my rightful throne back - I was happy. But when I turned twenty , the Queen wanted me to marry her daughter so that she could tighten her claim over the throne. I couldn't do that , I couldn't marry a woman I did not know and did not love. So my friends used their magic and helped run away from the Queen and her Red Knights. And that's how I ended up in your house. "

You blink a few times as everything comes crashing to you at once - his sudden appearance in your room, his weird clothes ,his accent ,his strange walk ,his cluelessness about the modern world , and Tracy calling him a Prince - he is a Prince. A Prince of a place you didn't know actually existed, a descendant of A Queen you'd only heard about in books and movies.

Marmoreal is the name of the White Queen's home , now you remember.

Wonderland was real. As real as you and Chan and Felix and Minho and Tracy. It very much exists .

"Y/n, please do not fear me,I beg of you. You can ask me anything you want but I want you to know that I will not harm you. I am your friend. At least I want to be. " he says , putting a hand on yours as your mind snap backs to reality.

You straighten up.

"Questions , right." you say, still blinking more often than you needed to .

"So the Red queen and the White queen are real? Like they're not just that Writer's idea?" You ask.

"Oh ,they are, I assure you. They were sisters but enemies, which led to the evil Red Queen's banishment centuries ago. Their descendants never got along with each other."

You nod, gulping hard. So the scary Queen with the big head was real. Brilliant.

"And The Hatters , are they the family of the Once Mad Hatter?"

"Yes, they are."

"Aren't they all mad?"

He chuckles, leaning closer to your face, "Darling, they're only as mad as you and I."

Your heart beat gets stuck in your throat , stopping you from asking him anything anymore.

Taking it as the end of the conversation Chan bids you a quick goodnight and heads over to the guest room you had given him.

But he stops just before the door, leaning against the door with a grin ,"Oh, by the way, my lady ,you might not want to skip that herbal medicine on your table anymore."

You frown, "Why?"

"I wasn't lying when I said they were magical - Felix makes them after all."

Oh, what a small fucking world!

The next morning, Bang Christopher Chan claims that he makes very ,very good morning tea that will give you a boost that normal ' human ' tea could never.

"Take one sip and you will crave for more, " he tells you as you provide him with the basic ingredients and watch him from the opposite side of the counter , making this supposedly mind blowing tea.

Now, to be very frank ,you weren't much of a tea person - you've only had boba a few times and the proper ,traditional tea only on the few times that your dad makes some. You were more into coffee. But you didn't tell him that.

You see Chan lean over the boiling pot of water on the gas , adding tea leaves and a little bit of cinnamon and then half a spoon of ground ginger. You observe him , your curiosity bubbling like the boiling water.

"Are you going to add ...magic too? " you couldn't help but ask the question as Chan stirs the mixture in front of him.

He chuckles , a warm , hearty laugh that lights up the lonely and cold corners of your small apartment. His eyes turn into crescent moons and his deep ocean dimples as he walks towards you and softly boops your nose , "Yes, of course! How would it be different from your normal tea otherwise?"

You see him walk back to the pot and then rub his forefinger and thumb together above the mouth of the pot , "Watch this ,my lady." You stare at him with shock as a sparkly , golden dust snows down due to the friction of his thumb and forefinger and gets mixed with the boiling tea.

And when the first sip of the freshly brewed,warm tea touches your lips and travels inside your mouth, you feel an explosion in your brain that you'd never felt before. You feel like there are literal fireworks in your head ,burning and cracking and fueling your energy levels. You want to run out on the roads and scream on top on your lungs for no goddamn reason.

"Chan, I didn't think I'd say this ,but this is the most delicious beverage I've ever tasted." You say , booping his nose like he did before, " Thank You."

In the evening , you take him out for shopping after calling Minho to cancel your plans with him. You told him that an old friend of yours was visiting from Australia and that he would be crashing at yours for the next few days. Minho didn't care much , as usual ,and all he said was, "Don't get pregnant." You remember rolling your eyes at his annoying remark.

So now here you are, scrolling through your phone while Chan tries on different clothes in the trial room.

"I do not like the shirt that shows my arms!" He yells from inside as the employees of the store giggle.

You sigh, " It's called a tank top,Chan. And I'm buying it whether you like it or not, it's summer for God's sake!"

You hear him mumble something under his breath and then the door of the dressing room creaks open to reveal a very different Chan. You can't help up but gawk at his perfectly toned arms and the very evident biceps that you did not expect to be there. You gulp hard. With his tousled hair and perfect smile and gorgeous eyes , he looks like a Disney Prince, the ones you used to obsess over as a child.

He is a prince, you dummy, you remind yourself again. Prince of Wonderland . (Underland, whatever)

He awkwardly hugs his arms around his body as the cool air from the AC grazes his bare arms ,his cheeks turning red from embarrassment.

" Hey, chin up !" You grin , and walk toward him.

He presses his lips in a line and mutters ,"I look ugly."

"No, you do not look ugly ,Christopher. You look anything but ugly ," you glare at him, "You look amazing. Just like... Park Chanyeol. "

His forehead creases and you see a ghost of jealousy in his eyes, " Who is that? Your lover?"

You laugh out loud, patting his cheek softly. " No, he is a...famous person. In our world. Just like you are of your kingdom."

You decide to take out Chinese food for dinner and even though you want to ask Chan if he was okay with that , you don't. Because he probably doesn't know what China even is .

"Do you want me to carry that bag for you?" Chan asks ,pointing at the take out bag on your lap as the both of you settle down in the backseat of the cab you had called. You wince as you realize how badly your feet hurt from all the shopping and snacking.

"No , thank you. Plus you have enough things to carry yourself." You reply, eyeing the tons of bags he carries, containing clothes and shoes and whatnot.

The drive to your house is long , owing to the fact that the city becomes more livelier at night - a scene you rarely get to see with your own eyes anymore, thanks to your stupid job. The cab driver plays a slow, romantic song and you automatically find your eyes scan Chan's face, looking for something that could help you relate to the song booming through the speakers.

But all you see is worry.

"Chan, are you alright?" You ask him, placing a hand on his arm.

He looks over at you , his eyes shining like the city lights that you hadn't seen in so long, " You're a very kind person ,my lady. I do not know how I will ever repay you for this; any of this! "

You feel a warm feeling spread from your chest, coursing through your veins and under your scalp and your ears.

"You can repay me by making that tea for me everyday. " you reply with a soft smile.

Chan scoots over closer to you ,then puts his head on your shoulders, " Well then I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I take a short nap - I owe you this one too."

You blush and look away from his captivating gaze ," Fine, whatever. Just make the tea for me. "

You know you want to add something but you swallow those words and repeat them only in the company of your own thoughts.

Thank you ,Chan , you think as you look out the car window ,cherishing the beautiful streetlights and the tall buildings and the neon signs of shops and the gentle pressure of Chan's head on your shoulder , Thank you for making my weekend less lonely.

Chan is a man of his word, you can guarantee that - An honorable , honest man who almost seems too good to be real sometimes.

As promised , he'd make you tea every morning for the next two months before you go to office while he spends most of his time in your house, trying out different things to keep him occupied while you were at work - learning how to use your spare laptop , cooking tutorials on YouTube , videocalling with Felix , practicing magic on your plushies, online window shopping because he apparently loved the way people in your world dressed.

He'd wait for you every evening with another interesting thing he had learnt and wanted to share with you , and a plate of freshly cut fruits that he prepared beforehand. Then you'd both make dinner together and spend the rest of the evening talking and laughing and gossiping .He would tell you about Underland and it's castles and magic and you would tell him about your world and how a stupid picture on the internet could go viral in a split second.

On weekends, you'd make a hearty breakfast for the both of you and then clean the house together,which Chan never once complained about. By the time evening comes, you would have already chosen what movie to show him while the popcorn cooks in the microwave. Or sometimes you'd spend the day at Felix's or sometimes drive down for a small picnic at a park.

Slowly but definitely, Chan becomes a part of your everyday life , your source of comfort, your escape . And he ,in turn , finds a caring friend in you , a teacher , a person he could lean on . Knowingly or unknowingly , you become his escape too.

It is on one such Friday night that Minho calls you during your movie session and you excuse yourself from a weeping Chan ( the movie you chose was Titanic) ,walking towards your own room.

" What's up?" You say into the phone as you jump on your bed .

"Are you seriously asking me that? Y/n , it's been weeks since mom or dad or I saw you. You keep cancelling plans for your Australian friend. Do you think I'm stupid?" He yells at you and you move your ear away from the speaker. Gosh ,talk about being so loud and annoying.

"He's coming home after years, Min. I can't just leave him here."

He sighs, "What kind of a friend stays over for two fucking months. " then adds ,with all seriousness, " is this some Christian Grey shit going on?"

You laugh - you have to ,even though you know your brother is pissed off ," Dude, do you even hear yourself ? I earn ten times more than that Anastasia bitch did. I don't need a sugar daddy."

"Then what's going on with this guy ? Tell me the truth ,y/n . You know I'll believe you." His voice now softens.

You sigh, rubbing the crease between your eyebrows.

Not this time ,you wouldn't believe me, you want to tell Minho.

But then decide that if you can't tell him the truth ,you could at least tell him half the truth.

"Look, Minho...my friend is not here for a vacation. He's here to hide. He's in possible danger. " you whisper to him.

"What kind of danger? Y/n,what if he's running from the police? What if he's in trouble with the government?" He asks,his voice filled with concern.

You hated the fact that he was so similar to you . And he had the audacity to call you adopted for so many years. Asshole.

"No, silly. Not that kind of trouble. He ran away from his engagement. The bride's mother is a bitch apparently ,trying to force him for his money and fame. "

You hear Minho heave a sigh of relief from the other side and naturally, you relax too.

"Well then if you can't leave him alone ,bring him along to our house. I'd love to meet this Australian guy in person."

And that was the end of the conversation.

When you live with someone , you find new things about them everyday - today is the day you find out that Chan looks exceptionally attractive in a tight black polo t-shirt and simple jeans. His blonde hair is pushed back a little, his forehead glowing under the bright Sunday sun and he wears a watch that Tracy and Felix had gifted him last week. Handsome as a Greek God.

"How do I look ?" He asks you as he scratches the back of his neck, smiling at his reflection in the mirror.

He's gained confidence .

"Like a Prince." You say, standing beside him.

Your eyes are focused on your reflections in the mirror,the close proximity of your bodies and the way you both look like any other couple in the world, makes you feel overwhelmed. You see the few millimetre gap between his hand and yours and if you reach out a little bit, you could easily lace your fingers with him.

"And how do I look?" You ask him with a small smirk.

He scans your image ; you wear a simple floral summer dress with short sleeves ,along with a pretty wrist bracelet and a simple pendant around your neck. You catch him blushing.

"Like a Princess. " he replies.

You badly want to hold his hand in yours. But you don't.

The drive to your Brother's place is filled with questions and replies and a few careless teasings thrown here and there.

"I hope your brother doesn't hate me for keeping you occupied all the time. " Chan comments when you turn to Minho's apartment street.

You shake your head, " No,no. Of course not. Minho is not like that."

Your brother has lived with his boyfriend, Jisung for about five years now . You want them to get married soon but they always make weird excuses about it. So you just assumed they enjoy this live in relationship without the pressure of marriage and children.

"Hey , y/n, oh my god! Long time ,huh?" Jisung hugs you tightly the moment you enter their living room ,his big toothy smile permanently plastered on his face. Minho stands behind Jisung ,his arms crossed over his chest and his critical eyes focused on Chan. You smile and jog up to your brother, wrapping your arms around him. His familiar scent makes you miss home and your parents and your old room. "Stop being so stuck up,Min." You whisper to him as Chan and Jisung introduce each other and Minho eyes them suspiciously.

He chuckles and hugs you tighter ,pressing a small kiss to your head. You grin as he pulls away.

"Chan,meet my brother Minho, " you bring Chan to stand in front of Minho , "And Minho ,this is Chan." Minho observes the way Chan walks - elegant and smooth and the way Chan talks , like he were a dude from the Victorian Era yet he wears modern clothes and uses a phone and air pods. Everything about this man is mysterious yet Minho couldn't find anything to hold against him. Perhaps he is being too hard on the poor man. He also notices how lovingly Chan gazes at you , looks out for you in the smallest possible ways and you look at him with the same adoration and concern. Were you two dating? You didn't say anything about that though.

So he asks you after dinner ," Do you like Chan?" The question comes out as natural as any other question Minho has ever asked you. You look down from his balcony at the streets and cars and people below then your eyes fall on your brother and the wine glass in his hands and on Jisung and Chan who chat inside the living room over dessert, having found a common interest in music making and lyrics writing.

Your blood turns cold - not because Minho had asked you that question but because this is the first time you're actually considering the possibility of that being true. It scares you.

You think about a similar incident that had happened almost ten years ago - when you were in middle school and Minho was in high school. You had a crush on your cute classmate but he chose your friend over you. Even at that tender age,you were heartbroken. No one at home noticed your sadness or disinterest in everything those days but Minho did - he always does.

"I don't know ." You lean against the railing of the balcony , "I don't want to think about it."

"Why?"

"Beacuse we do not belong together. We're from different worlds. " you whisper , "And I'm not sure if he feels anything like for me."

Minho frowns at you then flicks your forehead so hard that it stings.

"You keep suppressing your feelings all the time, y/n. You wouldn't know if he likes you or if you belong together if you don't tell him." He says.

You do know that you do not belong together. You do know that he may never like you back. But you don't mention it to Minho.

That night , as you are driving back home and Chan is sleepily looking out the window,you ask him , "Chan, there's something I have to ask you."

Chan sits up straight ,his attentive eyes focused on your nervous ones. He could sense your turmoil since you stepped out of Minho's house. He nods ," Go on."

"Um...actually, Jisung's cousin is getting married on Wednesday. Would you like to be my plus one for the ceremony?"

You'd never seen Chan smile so wide before, his eyes practically disappearing in the process. His cheeks tinted red and his hands tapping on his thigh .

"Do you want me to?" He asks. He hopes more than anything that you say yes.

" Hell yeah,dude! " You reply, chuckling.

He has never hugged you till now , you realize, as Chan jumps and wraps you in a warm embrace ,even as you are driving. Your heart hammers against your chest and your cheeks turn brighter than his own.

His smell fills you with a comforting ,homely feeling and you just hope he never lets go of the hug.

Remember when you said that Chan looked really good in a polo t-shirt and you thought it couldn't get any better? Well you take your words back now.

Your hands go limp by your sides when you see Chan walk out of his room , as you stare at him from the small crack of the door of your room. He looks ethereal. He wears a black suit with a pink, silky shirt inside paired with his locket and his watch. Nothing too fancy and yet you feel your knees growing weak below you.

You suck in a deep breath,looking at yourself in the mirror and trying to gather enough confidence to walk and face him. You wear a pink net shirt with black palazzo pants, accessorized with silver earrings and a rose gold ring on your thumb.

"Okay, come on ,y/n." you encourage yourself, your heart beating fast.

You had not really expected him to drop his jaw on the floor the moment he sees you but he did and it makes your heart flutter and cheeks red.

He offers you his hand, "You look gorgeous ,my lady."

And you slip your hand in his ," So do you ,your majesty."

The wedding venue is not really far from your apartment so it takes only about 30 minutes for you to reach there.

And rest assured, you both had turned all the heads in the wedding that night. Wide eyes and gaping mouths and silent whispers of jealousy, you noticed them all. You felt a little bad for stealing the spotlight from the bride and groom but you secretly wanted to show Chan off too.

"Attention grabbers." Minho had teased you during the wedding ceremony as the bride and groom took their vows , earning a pinch from you in reply.

The rest of the evening goes by smoothly and before you even realize it, Jisung pulls you and Chan to the dance floor when a slow,romantic song comes up.

"Uh. I don't know how to dance." You admit shyly as Chan offers you his hand.

He chuckles and you notice how deep his dimples really are this up close.

"I can so don't worry about it. Just trust me. " he says, his eyes scanning your face

Smiling, you take his hand and put your other hand on his shoulder while he drapes an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He indeed is a good dancer because soon you find yourself gliding around the dance floor effortlessly, flowing with the music and drowning in Chan's intoxicating eyes.

"This isn't so bad though." You comment when the lights are turned low and you see all the couples around you in their own bubble,doing their own thing, just grooving to the soft music ," I could get used to it."

Chan pulls both your arms and wraps them around his neck ,his hands finding a comfortable place around your waist.

"You should come to Underland some day. We could dance there all night. No one would disturb us." he whispers back,moving your bodies gently to the music.

Your smile fades , " I wish I could,Chan. I desperately do. "

He looks into your eyes and leans in closer, making your heart thump fast. Faster than it ever has.

"You can. You can come and go whenever you want, I promise you. " he says.

You nod at his efforts of making you feel better but you know that when he finally goes back to Underland, your heartache would be inevitable. You are so deeply ,madly and truly in love with the man in front of you that you will not be able stand a day without his warm presence in your otherwise dark and cold house. His absence would absolutely destroy you so you simply bury your face in the crook of his neck , breathing in his smell , enjoying his hands on you and sketching this moment in your mind forever.

"I'm going to miss you when you leave." you mutter in a silent voice as he runs his fingers through your hair , "Don't go,Chan."

You don't know why you're suddenly getting so emotional about him leaving when you always knew it would happen some day.

"Then come with me ,y/n." He whispers into your ears.

You pull away just enough to look into his eyes and then shift your gaze to his oh-so kissable , plump lips that you'd spent so many nights dreaming about.

Is this the right thing to do?

You no longer care.

He leans in first ,pulling your body towards him and softly yet hastily pressing his lips against yours.

Oh the bliss of having to kiss the man you've longed for since forever.

You're not even surprised when his lips fit perfectly in between yours as your whole body turns warm under his touch , like it had been waiting for him for a long time. And when you hold his cheek to control the pace of the kiss , you realise how much this means to him. How much you mean to him.

"I love you, Chan." You whisper after he pulls away, resting his forehead on yours.

He grins," I love you ,too."

The wedding ends shortly after but you guys stay back to wait for Minho and Jisung while they bid farewell to all of Jisung 's family and relatives.

"Be quick. " you tell Chan when he rushes into the boys washroom while you wait outside, your mind still replaying the intimate moment you had on the dance floor ( and Minho and Jisung teasing you about it later on). You shake your head ,smiling like an idiot.

Your beautiful thoughts are interrupted when someone- a tall ,muscular man wearing a peculiar red tuxedo - walks past you, bumping his arm harshly onto yours.

"Ow,dude,what the fuck?" You wince ,rubbing your arm as the arrogant asshole walks into the bathroom, "Piece of shit." You say when he doesn't even bother looking back at you.

You are about to go back to reminiscing your kiss with Chan but you hear a Chan yelling from the bathroom, his voice is as crisp and clear as the air in the mountains.

Your whole body goes cold.

"Get away from me !" You hear him yell and before you could stop yourself ,you feel your feet running into bathroom , pushing past the main door that clearly reads 'Male'.

"Chan? What's wrong?" You ask, your voice laced with urgency and adrenaline pumping through your blood.

What you see inside is something you'd never expected to see before but you were in love with a man who came from a place you didn't even know existed so this doesn't come as a big surprise to you. If Chan weren't in immediate danger, you might as well have been fascinated by it.

You see - Chan crouching on the floor , blood running from his nose and his hands covering his eyes , as if he's hiding. You see - the red tall asshole leaning against the wall, staring at Chan. You see - three very peculiar creatures surrounding Chan , shaped like the rummy cards with spades, diamonds and whatnot drawn on them and holding spears in what you assume to be their arms.

You almost regret coming in when all of them look at you with wide ,surprised eyes.

"Y/n! What are you doing here?" Chan gets up and walks toward you ,his lips quivering with fear.

The card creatures walk toward you,their spears pointed toward you as they growl something under their breath. You back away slowly.

"Hey! Stop it! She has nothing to do with it. Don't attack her." Chan yells at those things and thankfully ,they listen. They turn around and stand beside the asshole in the red suit.

Chan runs over you , tears starting to form in his eyes, "You shouldn't be here , y/n. Go back,now!"

You look into his eyes , your heart breaking at the sight of seeing him so in pain ,so vulnerable. It's like you're hurt ,too.

"D-did they do t-this to you?" You ask,pointing at his nose.

He blinks for a second then nods with a sigh ," That's why I'm telling you to leave ,okay? Y/n, sweetheart, please leave.Now." His voice is basically begging you and all you can do is stare at him and the others with horror.

"They found you. The Red Queen found you." You mutter to him,as he holds you by your shoulders.

"I'm so sorry ,y/n. I really thought...we had time. I really did. " his voice cracks as more tears stream down his face.

"We don't have all day long , Chan. Your future wife and her mother have been waiting for a long time." The man in red says sarcastically, "You've kept them waiting long enough."

You glare at the man then turn to Chan, who's a sobbing mess by now.

"They're going to get you married?"

The man in red scoffs, " He should be lucky if that's all they do. And knowing the Queen , she is very angry with him. He will not have it easy."

"Will they...execute him?" You ask ,running your hands over his face ,rubbing the mixture of blood and tears. Your heart shatters.

"No, the young princess is very fond of him actually. They will get married after he serves his punishment."

You see Chan wince in your arms as you pull him up in a crushing embrace. Probably the last one ever.

"I can call Minho and Jisung. They could easily take care of these bastards." You whisper into his hair, blinking tears away.

He clutches into you as if you were the only thing keeping him completely losing his mind.

He shakes his head, " No, don't, please. I cannot let more people get involved with me."

You pull away from the hug, just like you had on the dance floor, but it's different this time - more painful .

"Is there anything I can do...to stop this." You ask again ,desperate to not part from the man you've grown to love so bad.

He kisses your forehead,then holds your face in his hands. "I do not want any harm befalling you ,or your brother and Jisung or Felix or anyone of my friends in Underland, which is why I have to go and face my faith. I'm so sorry ,my love."

You let the tears flow.

Why was the Universe so unfair to people who deserved to be happy together? Why did the universe always favour those who mean ill to others?

"I love you ,Chan , remember that. " you say , " I always will."

He smiles through his tears, "and so will I. Always. I don't care if I am married or you are married or whatever, you're my princess till the end of Earth and till the end of Underland."

The asshole in red clears his throat, glaring at the two of you. Chan pulls away from the embrace and walks back to where he was originally when you came in.

You see all of them taking turns to drink from a vial with a purple liquid in it.

"Farewell,my lady." Chan whispers as a tear drop rolls down his face and falls on the floor with a soft splat. And in the blink of an , he is gone ,leaving behind nothing but a puff of golden smoke and his tear drop on the floor.

That's when you realise how real all of this is. And realise why exactly you didn't like the story of Alice in Wonderland as a child - its because the story is not a typical fairytale where the prince ends up marrying the princess, and because some day or the other, Alice had to leave everyone behind and come back to her real world.

You feel like it's been an eternity since you have been walking through the crowd of people in the wedding , people looking at you with disgust and fear, while you look for your brother or Jisung.

You enter the main hall and scan the room , sniffing away your tears and rubbing your bloody hands on your shirt.

You are a mess.

Finally ,you spot Minho in the far corner of the room ,speaking with a few guests with Jisung by his side. You sigh in relief but your body responds in the form of sobs.

You rush towards him and pull him by the end of his shirt, "M-Minho."

Jisung and Minho turn around ,their eyes widen at your crying, shivering , bloody sight .

Jisung immediately wraps his coat around you.

"Hey,what happened?" Minho demands as he pulls you in a hug ,and you sob into his neck, " Where's Chan?"

You feel Jisung rub your back soothingly.

"T-they got him ,Min. They took him and they punched his nose and it was all bloody and horrible and he was crying. Those things were so scary and ..." you say in between sobs, "..they'll punish him for running away and then marry him off, Min. I couldn't protect him."

"Who is them, y/n ?" Minho ask, rubbing your tears with his thumb.

"The Red Knights."

Jisung and Minho share a look of confusion with each other but they don't push you to explain your words.

"Okay,let's go home. We can talk there okay? Nothing will happen to Chan. We'll save him."Jisung says .

You shake your head , "No, we can't go home. We have to go to Felix. He's the only one who knows what to do. You guys can't save Chan without magic."

They want to believe you and whatever you say and they're worried about Chan too ,afterall both of them were so fond of him but they find your words rather hard to digest.

Nevertheless, your brother drives you to Felix's house.

His house once made you feel happy and complete but now it makes you feel horrible, like the freezing cold sensation you experience when you play out in the snow for too long.

And as you sit around his dining table , telling him about the incident and then him further explaining the whole story of you and Chan to Your brother and Jisung , you feel horribly empty.

"I'm so sorry ,Felix. I should have done something. I should have called out for help but I was so...scared. " you say , Tracy rubbing your back in comfort.

"Its not you fault, Y/n. Those knights are scary and the red man you talked about, he is the Queen's personal guard." Felix says ,"You're lucky he didn't do anything bad to you."

Jisung stares him blankly.

Minho paces up and down the room , his face twisted in confusion, " So you're telling me that the stupid story of 'Alice in Wonderland ' is true and Chan is from that place and you too?"

Felix hums in response.

"Bloody hell ", Jisung murmurs under his breath then adds , " so how do we go to that place and find him? I mean how do things work there?"

"Oh uh,no, we are not going anywhere. I will go . You are staying at home ,safe and secure!" Minho says to Jisung.

You frown in confusion.

"Wait, you believe it? You don't think we're all mad?" You ask.

They shake their heads.

"I trust you , y/n. You may be a pain in the ass and a crybaby but you aren't stupid or mad,as a matter of fact. We believe you ,of course." Minho shrugs.

You don't know if he's poking fun at you or if he actually believes you, but knowing Minho ,he rarely ever jokes around in situations like this.

"But how can we save Chan from there? Do we challenge the Queen and her claim on the throne or what? " you ask Felix.

Felix sighs , " It's not going to be easy . At all. That woman is dangerous...crazy even. She killed off Chan 's entire family , you think it'd be that easy to save him from her?"

There is genuine hatred and disgust in his voice when he speaks of the Queen. You'd only ever seen the portrayal of the First Red Queen in the movies and that woman was enough to piss you off . You couldn't imagine how someone from the same family tree could possibly get any worse.

"What are our options?" You ask ,tapping your fingers against your leg, a habit you'd picked up from Chan. You didn't realise it until just now.

"We cannot defeat her with physical power so dueling challenges and other such things are cut out. So that leaves us with either breaking him out from prison or being witty enough to fool the Stupid Red Head into letting him go " , He says . " and mind you, the Queen is very easy to fool because she's very ,very dumb but her daughter aren't. So we need a full plan to get him out."

You nod in agreement.

"Might I suggest something," Minho chimes in after giving much thought on whether he should speak up or not.

"Yes,please, of course." Felix replies.

"I think that the more important thing right now is to go to Wonderland - I mean, Underland- and as you mentioned earlier, talk to your friends and family. We can make a plan after we reach but first we need to know the severity of the situation there. "

Minho has always been smart but you don't want to admit it out loud - not in the presence of other people at least .

"Fine , yes. We must leave soon," Felix turns to Tracy , "Tracy, sweetheart, you will have to stay here and look over the shop . Jisung ,as Minho said,will stay back too. We don't know how long it will take but I promise I will be back."

And with that , you leave the two couples alone to bid their goodbyes and walk out to the porch, breathing in the cool night air.

"I promise I'll find you , Chan. I will find you and save you." you mutter into the air.

Funny things love makes one do.

The vial with the purple liquid feels cold in your hands as you uncork it .

"Do I pour it all in?" You ask nervously.

Felix stands on your left while Minho on your right, both of them holding the same vial in their hands.

"It doesn't matter. Just a drop does the work too." Felix shrugs.

You see him pour all the contents of the vial into his throat and then squint his eyes at the taste.

Minho and you share a look before doing the same.

And then your vision is fogged with a golden puff of smoke as you feel your body falling down a long, neverending , bottomless hole.

You've only ever heard about Underland from Chan and Felix ,and only ever seen this place through their eyes ,but now that you're actually here , it feels surreal, if you put it subtly.

The crisp and fresh air in the Enchanted forest runs chill down your spine and you hop over wood logs and thorny bushes with continuously moving leaves. Minho stays close to you, his hand never leaving your arm while his eyes try to absorb his surroundings.

Felix walks in front of you two , not wavered by the scene in front of him. And why would he be anyway,this was his home ,his domain.

"W-where are we,Felix?" You ask in a soft voice .

"We're in The Tulgey Wood . We're going to my house." He replies with a slight nostalgic tone.

The Enchanted Forest is so breathtakingly beautiful that it almost feels unreal to be walking right through it. The purple sky above you ,the rustling leaves around you , the trees that seem to follow your every movement and flowers that seem to have actual eyes, everything welcomes you rather warmly although you have a feeling you are yet to see the crazy side of this place.

"Well , I had expected you a little earlier, Felix." A sharp voice says from somewhere within the bushes, startling you and Minho and he jumps in front of you ,as if to protect you.

"What's that?" Minho asks,unable to mask his own fearful eyes.

Felix chuckles , " Don't be scared. This is my friend ,the White Rabbit. "

You hear shuffling sounds from the bushes and out comes the most cuddly looking rabbit you've seen in your whole life, hopping on his back limbs and wearing a waistcoat and carrying a stopwatch.

A waistcoat and a stopwatch....

Minho stares at the creature with awe while you bend over to take a closer look at it.

"Hey ,young lady ,back off!" The rabbit threatens you , squinting his eyes at you. And you immediately step back, blinking your eyes nervously.

"It's alright, she's our friend. Chan knows her too. " Felix says, crouching down to pat him , "This is y/n and her brother ,Minho. They're here to help."

At the mention of Chan's name , The Rabbit's eyes widen and he slumps down into Felix's arms and starts sobbing.

"Oh,my dear Felix , I'm afraid of what has become of The Prince. When we heard that the Knights brought him back , we were all so ...lost." he says as Felix cuddles him in his arms, "Dormouse and Cheshire have sneaked out from their duties of the Queen and gone to visit him . They say he looks scared to death. The Queen out him in a prison. With murderers and thieves and whatnot."

Your whole body goes limp at his words, your annoyingly vivid imagination creating those pictures in your head. You blink your tears away.

"How can we save him?" You ask in croaked voice.

The rabbit looks at you sadly , " Let's go to the girls first. They can help you."

"Who is he talking about?" Minho asks.

"My sisters," Felix replies , leading the way deeper into forest , "Come on, we're almost home."

The Hatters' live on a clear patch of land in Tulgey Wood , surrounded by trees for as long as the eyes could reach , in a huge house beautifully built like a Victorian top hat.

You were breath taken. And so was Minho because you could literally feel him hold his breath as you guys enter the house.

"Oh ,my gods , is that you Felix?" A high pitched female voice thunders from above you ,while you stand in what looks like the Study of the house. Your hands brush over a brown diary kept on the desk and the pot of ink sitting beside it. ' Medicinal Documentation ' the diary reads.

"Yes, it seems so. " Felix replies with a grin.

Your eyes fall on the steep spiral stairs in front of you that go up to the other floors of the house and you see two girls jogging down the stairs, big smiles plastered on their faces yet the sadness in their eyes cannot be hidden.

They are a tad bit shorter than you are , and they must not age more than Minho and as they jump on Felix ,squealing with excitement, one can almost immediately see the resemblance in the siblings' appearance ; bright orange hair , toothy smiles, and big ,sparkly eyes .

"And who might these lovely people be?" The shorter of the two girls asks ,as the white rabbit clings onto her long skirt.

"Oh,this is y/n and her brother Minho. They know Chan and want to help him." Felix introduces, " Y/n , Minho meet my sisters - Sana and Momo."

"Of course..miss y/n. We've heard about you." Sana ,the taller one ,walks up to you and bows her head lightly, "We're so grateful for what you're doing for the Prince, sweet one, we really are."

If Felix, Momo , Sana , Chan and the annoying ( but cute) rabbit were put in a Shakespearean play together , it would be a massive hit. Their accents are so good and elegant and graceful that you wish you could learn it too.

You smile at the compliment , "Please don't thank me. I haven't saved him yet. "

"Oh, enough of these formal courtesies, " the shorter girl, Momo , holds your arm and leads you up the stairs, "How about we talk over tea?"

The group reaches the top most floor of the house ,overlooking the beautiful forest through the window as you are made to sit around a long table .

Sana and Mina serve you a cup of tea while the White Rabbit passes you some freshly baked cookies.

"Wow,this...this tea is wonderful." Minho compliments when he takes a sip from his China cup , "Is this what Chan used to make for you ,y/n?"

You nod, as those memories dance around behind your eyes , " He was very good with it."

"Oh he always has been good at everything, I tell you ," Momo starts , " Sword fights ,archery, horse riding ,poetry , cooking, too bad a prince like him had to live with mere Hatters like ourselves."

"Hey,we weren't always this poor. " Sana adds, "This is all the Second Red Queen's doing, gods curse her!"

You scowl , " What do you mean? I thought she only harmed Chan's family . "

Sana let's out a woeful sigh while Momo and Felix look at each other with sorry eyes.

"I wish she'd only done that ,truth be told." Sana says.

"Yes, but instead she ruined everyone's lives who ever crossed paths with her." Momo says, "Our father was the Royal Hatter for Chan's family - the White Queen's descendants. And our mother was the Royal Physician . We lived a happy life , living in a big house near the palace in Marmoreal . "

"Marmoreal was the Summer Palace for the Royal family ,not very far from the capital town of Witzend. One such summer , when Prince Chan was only a year and a half old ,the banished heir of the Evil First Red Queen arrived in Marmoreal and her Knights butchered the royal family and killed every living creature in sight. Her dragons set fire to our house and the palace and the nearby villages. It was...horrible , to say the least. Only a few people survived , which included our family and the Young Prince. The Queen commanded us to take the infant away and never show up in front of her again and so we did - for a long time." Momo then looks over at Sana ,signalling her to continue telling the story.

"But that was until the Queen's only daughter - Princess Scarlet's 18th birthday celebration. We had gone to the parade fair in Witzend, just near the Queen's castle. No one knew us properly or Chan so we were safe. But the Princess saw Chan and fell in love with him...madly. She pursued him every chance she got and when she couldn't succeed , she used her mother's powers to force an alliance. Her mother was hesitant at first, given her history with Chan's family but then she too decided to force him into this alliance for her political good. And initially , Chan had to comply. But on the day of their wedding announcement, he escaped into your world."

"Through my rabbit hole,if I may add." The White Rabbit mumbles. You purse your lips, letting the story in slowly , word by word ,letter by letter. And when the realization sinks in,you purse your lips to stop yourself from crying.

"And I couldn't protect him. I am responsible for what happens to him." You whisper.

Everyone looks at you with disbelief.

"Hey, no! That is not true!" Felix says,almost angry ," You're the reason he was safe and happy for all those months. If not , if he were with me or worse,alone, he wouldn't last a week out there. You saved him, y/n."

"It's true, y/n. Our friends work in the Queen's royal kitchen and they've met Chan a few times in the prison - he only ever asks about a woman named y/n." Sana says.

Your heart drops into the deepest pits of your stomach. You didn't know what love really meant until you met him and although a stranger, in an unknown place , he still trusted you, believed you , cared for you , loved you.

You have to save him.

"Okay , anyone has any plans? Any ideas?" You ask ,after composing yourself.

"I don't have one but I really want to suggest we move this meeting to the medicinal garden in the backyard. That place helps me think. " The White Rabbit offers,scratching his fluffy ears.

As if something in your brain suddenly clicks , like a gear falling into place in a machine; Your eyes widen as you slam your hand on the table.

Everyone jumps up , startled.

"What's wrong ?"

You look over at the Rabbit and pat his head , "You are a genius."

"Huh?"

"You said your friends work for the Queen ,right?"

"Yes?"

You drag your chair away from the table, jumping to your feet ," I have a brilliant idea."

When the next morning arrives , you find yourself walking to the town of Witzend with The White Rabbit , Minho , Felix and his sisters by your side.

"Here,y/n, take this," Momo gives you something just before you enter the castle of the Red Queen. "You'll need it."

You gaze carefully at the shining vial in your palm.

"You know when to use it." She says.

You nod.

The Red Queen that you remember from the movies and the few excerpts from the original book of Alice in Wonderland that you'd only ever read once, you had expected her descendant to look a certain way too - big ,swollen head , scary eyes , loud voice.

But the woman sitting on the throne directly in front of you is definitely not what you had expected. At all. The Queen is a small woman ; and by small you don't mean skinny and short - she's literally small. She must not be more than three feet in height , you assume , but her features and face is that of a fully grown adult in her 40s. A human being who'd suddenly shrunk ( proportionally) like a raisin.

You wonder how someone so small could hold so much evil in themselves.

"Your majesty, " you bow down to her and so do the people standing beside you , scared yet worried for Chan. "It's nice to finally see you again."

You see a familiar gaze behind the throne, and you immediately recognize him - the Queen's personal guard - the asshole who had punched Chan bloody.

He smirks at you.

You curl your hands into fists.

"Yes? And what is it that you want from me?" The Queen asks, not really caring about the matter at hand. She picks at her cuticles while chewing her bottom lip.

Hesitant, you look at Felix asking for help.

Behind you , you could hear murmurs from the people waiting in line for their turn to put forward their complaint in front of the Queen.

"Your majesty, this is Miss y/n. She's come a long way from home to see you." Felix says ,his voice as gentle as the wind on a winter morning.

The Queen rolls her eyes, running her small hand through her red hair , " What can I do for you?"

That's the fakest thing you'd heard all day.

You clear your throat and pick up all your courage to speak, "I want your help to look for the man I love, your majesty. He's ...missing and possibly hurt I believe. "

" Why are you here instead of asking the Police to help you?" The Queen demands.

"Oh,because I'm afraid you're the one who has him."

The Queen stops picking at her cuticles, and raises her head to stare at you with her small , googly yet intimidating eyes. You realise now why the people were so afraid of her - the Evil curve of her lips and her deadly stare are enough to make you want to drop everything and run back home.

"What do you mean ,young lady?" The Queen asks, her interest now focused on your words.

A collective gasp runs through the throne room , starting from the citizens, then passing on to the Queen's staff and her card shaped Knights. They seem surprised at the Queen actually showing an interest in something for the first time.

"I'm talking about Prince Chan, your majesty." You say.

The Queen's eyes widen as you hear the room fill with murmurs and gasps and silent cries. How long had it been since a person dared to even mention Chan in front of the Queen?

"Mother,what is this woman talking about?!" You hear a loud shriek from somewhere beside the Queen .

And only when you squint your eyes hard enough can you actually see her ; the Princess of Underland who was hilariously so small (even smaller than her mother ) that you almost wanted to giggle. Now don't get me wrong, you weren't body shaming her or anything , but you'd never seen a person so terribly small in your entire life until now. You could only imagine what it would look like if Chan happens to marry her for real one day.

"Don't worry daughter , " the Queen gets up from her seat and walks up toward you, her guard close behind her , " Chan is only yours. No one else's."

Just when you're about to respond , you see two huge fishes - almost as tall as you - twirl up to the Queen and offer her a cup.

You'd never expected to see actual, living fishes out of water or wear clothes or hold trays and bowls or walk on their tails, but here you are .

"Wrong timing ,idiots!" The Queen screams her face red with anger yet she snatches the cup from the tray and gulps down all it's contents at one go.

What a peculiar woman.

"Go away now." The red asshole growls at the poor fish as they rush away from the scene.

You smile at the Queen as she stands in front of you , not even reaching your knees properly .

"You,girl, what do you want?" She demands.

You feel Minho wrap a reassuring arm around you , eyeing the woman in front of you with a hatred filled gaze. Felix stands close by your side.

"I want Chan to be released from prison , and be given his rightful throne back . That's all." You say.

The Queen scoffs , "His weak and worthless dynasty ruled over this excuse of a country and the useless people for years. I am only trying to make things better."

You can feel the disapproval of the citizens around you at being called useless.

"And? Do your people think you're doing a good job?" Felix asks.

You see numerous heads shake in a negative response,and you can slowly feel the tension in the room rising.

The Queen points her left forefinger at you while the other hand is on her waist , " You want the truth , peasant girl? So here it is - I do not care about anyone . I care nothing of this country and its citizens and its creatures. None of my ancestors ever had. We just like to sit on that extremely uncomfortable throne and enjoy the money and power we get from controlling these worthless citizens. Oh and I wish I could relive the screams of The White Royal family as I killed them. One by one."

The Queen gasps in realization of what she'd just said while the room falls completely silent for a second before the princess yelps , "Mother ,what is the matter with you?!"

The princess looks horrified as she runs up to her equally horrified mother.

You smirk - the plan of pouring in the truth potion in the Queen's tea had taken so less effort , thanks to the sweet Dormouse and benevolent Cheshire Cat and Felix's mother's medicine diary.

"Oh I hope you burn in hell . A whiny, good for nothing girl. You can't even fight your own fights without dragging me in. And as far as Chan is concerned , I don't care about you marrying him. I only wanted to secure my claim over the throne by forming an alliance with a person with actual rights to this kingdom." The Queen clamps a hand over her mouth, stumbling back from the shock.

The princess let's go off her mother,betrayal clear in his eyes.

"So you admit to your crimes?"

"Yes." The truth comes out as natural as those lies she'd fed the citizens and the princess and her servants and the Knights for years.

From the corner of your eyes , you see The Princess trying to sneak past everyone and run out of the throne room , guilty of her own wrong doings but Felix stops her with a firm grip on her tiny hand , "Where do you think you're going, little one? Didn't you threaten to kill my whole family if we didn't hand Chan over to you?"

The Red Knights close in to capture the Queen and her personal guard in their unbreakable grasp , giving up their oaths of protecting the Queen - their duty is only to serve Chan from now on.

Sana steps in now , turning to address the people who are witnessing this unusual incident, "My fellow lovely countrymen, as you can see right before your eyes and hear through your own ears , your Queen has intended nothing but to harm you and our kingdom for all these years. She means no good and never will - the true heir to the throne now lies injured and chained in her dungeons. What do you suggest we do?"

"Behead her!" "Free the Prince!" "Finish off the Reds!" "Be done with her guard too ." "Crown Prince Chan."

The room thunders with all sorts of suggestions and you make an eye contact with the White Rabbit ,who nods at you and you nod back ,smiling from ear to ear.

You've done it , he wants to say , you've freed The Prince.

The rooms in the castle were beautifully designed, but were in a terrible condition since most of the rooms were never used really and the Queen didn't feel it was important to get them cleaned regularly.

You had asked the White Rabbit to find some servants to get one of the rooms quickly prepped as the Red Knights carried Chan from the prison and into the castle - his birth home. Sana and Momo cleaned his wounds the moment he was laid down on the soft bed, changing his clothes and then softly pulling the covers over his body to keep him warm while he rests.

The White Rabbit brings you an apple but you don't eat it - you just sit by Chan's side ,praying desperately that he wakes up soon. You wouldn't be able to swallow a single grain of food until then.

You run your fingers softly over his arm ,drawing random patterns and spelling out your names on it.

"Please wake up ,Chan." You say in a whisper , scanning his calm yet beautiful facial features. "I found you ,Chan. I am here."

Your fingers find their way to his and naturally as ever ,wrap themselves around them.

Suddenly, Chan stirs in his position , a low groan leaving his parted lips. You stare wide eyed at him as he slowly opens his eyes, your hands still tightly intertwined.

"C-chan?"

He turns his head toward you , a lazy smile dancing on his lips and his eyes focusing on your face , which he'd yearned to see every second he spent in that horribly dark dungeon.

"Are you really here, y/n? Or am I finally going mad?" He asks you.

You lean in closer ,brushing a few strands of hair from his face.

"You're only as mad as the rest of us." You reply, "Welcome home ,your majesty."

Groggy and weak ,Chan pushes himself up in a seating position. "How did you deal with the Queen? Where is she? " He takes your face in his hands , "Did she hurt you?"

"She couldn't lay a single finger on me. And now she's locked up in the same dungeon as you were. She'll be given to the slave trader soon ,along with her daughter." You say. "Who knew a simple medicine and a few good friends could be enough to defeat a tyrant ?"

He giggles , pressing his forehead on yours. "Did you meet everyone else ? Momo? Sana? My friends?"

You nod with a grin. You'd come to adore his friends and family so deeply in a single day. You would hate to part from them.

"Thank you, y/n. I owe you everything. " he sighs, his breath fanning your face , "I love you so much I think it's going to drive me crazy!"

You chuckle at his cheesy words , "You're welcome. But I need compensation for all of this. An ' I love you ' is not enough."

You were joking ; hearing him confess his sincere love for you is more than enough but you liked playing with him. He looks very cute when flustered.

"Then what would the pretty lady desire?"

"You."

He shakes his head , leaning down to capture your lips in his plump ones.

This kiss was even better than the first one that you guys shared on the dance floor , mostly because you know now that even if he's taken away from you or you are taken away from him , you'll always find each other , in every world , in every universe. He pulls you up on his lap despite him being injured , and you let him.

You put your hand around his neck, pulling him closer and closer and closer . At one point ,you could no longer tell who he is or who you were. The only thing that mattered was that you loved him so much , you could deal with a hundred Red Queens for him. And you know he'd do the same for you.

"I have one last favour to ask of you ,my love." He whispers against your lips ,pulling away from the kiss. His red cheeks and sparkly eyes are a sight to behold ," I want you to stay here with me. Please."

You grin , knowing he'd say this and you were well prepared for it. Convincing Minho to let you stay was so much easier than you had expected really. All he did was shrug with a smirk and say, " Just don't get pregnant." In reality, all Minho really wanted was for you to be happy and healthy and he knew living here with Chan would make you the happiest.

"On three conditions." You reply to Chan ,who is staring at you like he'd seen a human like you for the first time.

"Okay. What are those?" He brushes your cheeks with his thumb.

"I can visit home whenever I want."

"Agreed, obviously. You're not a prisoner, y /n."

"Then I also want to put up a small shop of my own in the main market square. I will not be wasting my time on stupid politics- that's your job."

"Agreed. I will help you with it whenever I can. What's the last condition?"

You smirk and lean your face closer to his. "Kiss me one more time."

And he does.

You smile into the kiss , wondering now that ' Alice in Wonderland ' might not have been that bad after all. She had a choice to stay or go back and she chose the latter. You had the same choices too , but you chose to stay. It wasn't about a happy or a sad ending ,after all. It was about the choices.

And as Chan holds your waist firmly, deepening the kiss , you know you've made the right choice too.

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degrassi-fanatic · 4 years

Text

Stay Awhile

As Prentiss steps out of her car, she can already see the clusters of families standing around in the parking lot. Not too far away from them, the children are already dressed in their soccer uniforms, warming up for their game on the field.

Ducking back down to her car, she reaches across the driver’s seat to the passenger side and retrieves two yellow paper bags dotted with white stars; one with a small tag that reads ‘Henry LaMontagne’ and the other ‘Jack Hotchner’. With a bag in each hand, Prentiss uses her foot to kick the door shut behind her.

Although she’s only been standing in the parking lot for a couple of seconds, she can already feel the sun beating down on her sensitive skin; never has she been more grateful for JJ’s constant nagging about sunscreen application. It feels like the hottest day of the summer and she’s sure by the time Reid arrives, he will have read dozen weather reports to back up her claim.

Prentiss maneuvers past numerous trophy wives and bored looking husbands to make her way over to the metal bleachers. As she looks over the tops of their heads, she tries to scan the rows to find any familiar faces.

“Emily!” she hears someone call out.

Near the top of the bleachers, Prentiss spots Will standing up from his seat as he waves to get her attention. She can’t help but notice that there isn’t anyone else up there with him.

Oh no.

It’s not that she hates Will. She doesn’t.

It’s just rather awkward to try and maintain a conversation with a person when you essentially stole their girlfriend from them.

In Will’s defense, he’s never outright called Prentiss a homewrecker. In fact, he’s always so kind and courteous to her; Will invites her and JJ over for dinner with him and Henry, he always asks about her wellbeing when he calls JJ for whatever reason, Will even had Henry bring her a gift for Christmas when he was staying with his mother for the week.

He may not have called Prentiss a homewrecker but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe it. It doesn’t mean that the thought isn’t somewhere in deep recesses of his mind.

Usually, Prentiss doesn’t have to stress over talking to Will but that’s only because they always have JJ or Henry there to act as a buffer between the two of them and stop a potential conflict from arising.

Now, however, JJ is nowhere in sight, Henry is out on the field, and Prentiss is a moment away from fleeing the scene.

The only reason she doesn’t is because she doesn’t need Will talking to JJ about how her girlfriend ran like a mad woman before their son’s soccer game.

Prentiss takes in a deep breath as she climbs the steps, making it to the top far quicker than she wanted to. Will motions for her to take a seat next to him with an easy smile. Once she’s sitting, Will bumps shoulders with her good naturedly.

“Hey,” she greets politely as she sets the gift bags down by her feet, “Where’s JJ?”

“JJ forgot to buy the brownies for the potluck after the game.” he answers with a little laugh, “And now she’s probably speeding down the roads to get here in time.”

His slight at JJ’s driving loosens up the knot in her chest but, not by much though.

“What about the others?” she asks, for the lack of anything better to add.

“Aaron and Spencer are getting the Gatorade from the car. Dave’s on the sidelines, helping the kids warm up,” Will informs as he points to a far away figure that Prentiss assumes is Rossi, “Penelope and Derek are running late because they woke up with hangovers from their alcohol binge last night.”

She lets out a chuckle at Garcia and Morgan’s predicament. Why on Earth they decided to go out to bars the night before a children’s soccer game, Prentiss will never know. She’s just glad that she decided to turn down their offer.

As Will picks up a water bottle from the ground, he glances over to the yellow gift bag near Prentiss’s feet.

“What’s that?” he asks curiously before unscrewing the cap of the bottle.

“Um, it’s, uh, it’s a gift,” she says, “For Jack and Henry.”

“That’s so sweet, Emily.” Will practically coos, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

Although Will flashes her what she would consider a sincere smile from anyone else, Prentiss cannot help but wonder if he’s having any of those thoughts about her being a homewrecker right now.

His hands reach for the tops of the gift bag labelled for Henry but before he touches it, he looks up at her.

“May I?” he asks, waiting for permission.

Prentiss nods.

As he pushes past the sheets of colourful tissue to get to the actual gift, Prentiss grows more anxious with every passing second. Her back goes ramrod straight. She begins to rock herself gingerly as she smooths her palms down her thighs.

She watches as Will pulls out the Lego set with gentle fingers.

There’s no real reason why Prentiss had bought it. She had been simply wandering through the mall when she spotted the set displayed in the window of some toy store. From the moment she casted her eyes on it, she felt some inexplicable pull to purchase it. For two weeks it had sat on the floor of her closet until Prentiss could find an excuse to give it to the boy she had in mind.

“My God, Emily.” he breathes out.

Her stomach drops. Her hands stop moving.

“Is it bad?” she questions urgently, “Because I can return it, if it—”

“No, no,” Will interrupts gently, “It’s just that Henry’s been raving about this exact Lego set for the past month.”

“He has?”

“I thought JJ would’ve told you.” he mumbles to himself as he stares at the box, “God, it’s perfect. He’s going to love it.”

He looks up from the gift to give her another one of his grins and a wave of guilt courses through Prentiss.

How could she have ruined this man’s family?

“I’m sorry, Will.” she blurts out.

“Pardon?” he asks as he places the box back into the gift bag.

“I’m sorry for everything,” she explains as she waves her hand between them, “For the whole thing between you, me, and JJ.”

As Will sets the bag back down on the ground, he shoots her a puzzled look. His brows furrowed together, while he’s deep in thought.

“You’re not seriously apologizing for dating your girlfriend, are you?” he asks.

“I, uh, I…” Prentiss stammers as she searches for the right words, “Yes?”

“Listen, Emily,” Will begins to speak as he turns to face her, their knees knocking, “I loved JJ, and I still love her, as the mother of my child. And I know she loves me too because I’m the father of her kid too. We parted on good terms.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty about being with her.”

Will grabs her hand between the two of them and gives it a gentle squeeze.

Not for the first time, Prentiss can understand why JJ used to be in love with Will. He’s a good guy. He’s one of the best guys Prentiss knows.

“You don’t think I’m overstepping right now?” she asks, “I mean, I’m at your son’s soccer game.”

“Because he wants you here and so does JJ, and so do I.” he reminds her with another squeeze of her hand before letting it go.

“You do?”

“Course I do,” he reassures with a chuckle, “I have a feeling you’re going to be staying awhile.”

Although her face is no doubt red, she returns Will’s smile with a nod. She’s saved from having to respond by JJ’s sudden arrival. Her hands are full of store bought brownies and her car keys.. The strap of her purse is starting to slide off her shoulder. The only thing taming her hair is a pair of sunglasses perched at the top of her head.

“Hey guys,” she says a little breathless as she sits down beside Prentiss, “I’m not late, am I?”

Both Will and Prentiss shake their heads, their eyes bright with amusement at JJ’s disheveled state.

“They’re still warming up.” he informs her.

“Oh thank god.” JJ lets out as her shoulders finally sag with relief.

Without thinking too hard about it, Prentiss wrestles one of JJ’s hands free from the container of brownies, and does something she never used to do in front of Will; she plants a soft kiss on the back of it.

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #jemily #william lamontagne jr #~fic~

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iamakiller · 4 years

Text

FaceTime with Nicole

It’s Self-Care Sunday. The one day a month Nicole gets to herself.

Henry spent the night at her mom’s yesterday, so Nicole was able to sleep in until the blissful hour of ten. No demands for breakfast. No cartoons on full blast in the living room. And absolutely no terrifying drives to the emergency room with an eight year old boy bleeding and crying all over the cream interior of the car.

No, none of that. Today is all about Nicole.

Face mask on and tub of low-fat non-dairy ice cream beside her on the couch, she has just queued up the first episode of the new season of The Crown on Netflix when her phone goes off.

Of course it’s Charlie.

Fuck.

She answers it without thinking, forgetting that it’s a FaceTime call, so the first thing Charlie says is a rather shocked, “Jesus, Nicole! What the hell have you done to your face?” and then he starts laughing.

She would scowl at him, but the mask has already started to dry, and she doesn’t want to have to deal with cleaning up shards of it off the couch. “It’s Amazonian Clay,” she tells him shortly. “Great for anti-aging. I’ll send you the link, if you want. You should try it.”

Twenty seconds in to their conversation, and she’s already fired the first shot. Must be a new record. But it’s better to start off that way, isn’t it? Assert dominance before her ex starts running rings around her. Talking down to her. Like he always does.

Charlie’s lips briefly press into a thin line, but he doesn’t reply. The silence stretches … and stretches … and stretches. Nicole begins to feel stupid and uncomfortable. Beside her, the ice cream is already beginning to melt.

She cracks first, as always. “What do you want?” she demands. “You know Henry’s at my mom’s, right?”

“Yes, I know,” he replies. She can’t see him rolling his eyes, but she can definitely hear it in the tone of his voice. “That’s why I’m calling now. I wanted to talk to you without the possibility of him listening in.”

“O-kay,” she says, very slowly. Now that she thinks about it, he looks rather more serious than usual. Almost nervous. And Charlie rarely looks anything but smug, self-satisfied and supremely confident. “You have ten minutes before I need to wash this mask off. I’m listening.”

Charlie takes a breath ... and then hesitates, as though he doesn’t know where to begin. Which once again, is completely unlike him. In the absence of him speaking, Nicole’s mind starts running riot with the possibilities of what he’s about to say. Maybe he’s going to jail for murder! Maybe he has cancer! Maybe he’s relocating to Europe and she’ll never have to see him again …

“It’s about Britt,” he begins, and then stops again, chewing on the inside of his lip in that annoying way he does sometimes.

Nicole frowns. A puff of dust falls off the face mask, and drops onto the front of her nice white bathrobe, staining it pink. That name again. It’s been over a year, and that woman is still around, and Nicole can’t understand why. Henry talks about her quite often, and has a photo of her, Charlie and himself on his nightstand. Nicole glanced at the photo just once, when Henry had been waving it in her face. She remembers thinking that Britt didn’t look anything like her. She didn’t look anything like those floozies Nicole used to convince herself Charlie was just flirting with, either … “Oh?” she says, in the most disinterested tone anyone in the world has ever used. “What about her?”

Charlie runs his hand through his hair twice, even though it looks annoyingly perfect as always. “She’s been offered a transfer at work. We’ll be relocating next month -”

Oh, thank god, Nicole thinks, relief rushing to her head so quickly she almost feels drunk with it. Please let it be far away. Like Europe. Or Africa. Or the moon.

“- to LA.”

There’s a faint buzzing in her ears. Her jaw tightens involuntarily. A couple more chunks fall off the mask, and flutter down onto her robe. “I’m sorry,” she says, softly. Dangerously. “I must be hearing things. I thought you just said you’re moving to LA.”

The bastard actually gulps, but he sounds extremely patronizing when he responds, “I did. I wanted to let you know as early as possible. I thought it was only fair to keep you in the loop, as it were.”

Fair? Fair? There is a tirade of words beginning to creep up her throat like a tsunami of bile. But all she does is nod slowly, and all she says is, “I understand.”

She watches his shoulders slump slightly, and a smile begin to appear. “Okay, good-”

“I just think it’s funny how you’re deciding to do it now.” The words tumble out of her mouth. She hadn’t even known she was going to say them. Hadn’t even thought them. And now there they are, hanging in the air between them like a bad smell.

The smile fades, and Charlie’s brow creases as he begins to frown. “Excuse me, what?” He’s keeping his voice quiet and calm. The hand that isn’t holding the phone is raised, palm facing her, as though he is trying to deal with some rabid animal.

Well, two can play at that game. Where she blurted out her last sentence, now she speaks slowly, enunciating every word quite clearly. “It’s really interesting how you promised you were going to move out here two years ago, and then you changed your mind at the last minute. But now that she wants to-”

The fingers on the raised hand are now flexing slightly. “We’ve talked about this so many times. You know I’ve been trying to think of a way to make this happen -”

“BULLSHIT!” she yells. In the quiet of the house, it echoes slightly, so it sounds like there are several Nicoles all calling him on his crap.

That stops him right in his tracks. Half the goddamn mask has just cracked off, but it was worth it to see the bastard shit himself like that for once. But he’s still not rising to her bait, like she wants him to. Like she knows he wants to. He clears his throat. “Nicole … sweetheart … let’s be reasonable …”

Nicole grits her teeth. Fucking fucker. “Don’t you dare ‘sweetheart’ me, Charlie Barber! Don’t you fucking dare tell me to be reasonable. I’m just pointing out a fact here. You wouldn’t do it for Henry. You wouldn’t move to LA for your own son. But you’ll do it for her-”

“No. NO -” Finally, he’s starting to lose his cool. Finally.

She rolls her eyes. “Sure, Charlie.”

His mouth opens and closes several times like a fish before he speaks again. “Listen, Nicole. Listen. We’re doing it because I want to be closer to Henry.”

She snorts. “It’s always about what you want, isn’t it?”

He’s pointing at her now, finger stabbing to emphasize every word he says. “That’s not true-”

This time, she lets out a mirthless HA! “I get it, Charlie. Now it’s convenient for you, you’re going to do it. Well maybe it’s not convenient for us. Maybe we don’t want you here. Have you even thought about that?”

His big, stupid mouth snaps shut. His face has gone even paler than usual. He’s staring at her like she’s just slapped him. “What?”

“You can’t just do whatever you want, Charlie. That’s not how it works.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but she has already hung up on him.

She slams the phone down on the couch, and marches up the stairs to the bathroom to wash the mask off. It hasn’t been anywhere near ten minutes yet, but she needs to do something; needs to distract herself from the way her hands have begun to shake, and her eyes have started to sting. Even from upstairs, she can hear the phone ringing and ringing, but she ignores it as she dabs her face dry with a towel, then applies toner, moisturizer, eye cream, and a lip mask, all without looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

By the time she’s finished, the phone has stopped ringing. Nicole straightens her robe and leaves the bathroom, but instead of taking a left and heading back downstairs, she turns right into Henry’s room. She steps over and around the minefield of Lego that Henry promised he was going to clean up before her mom picked him up last night, sits down on the edge of his unmade bed, and after a few moments turns her gaze towards the photo she’s looked at only once before.

It was taken outside the Museum of Natural History last winter vacation, judging by their attire. Henry is standing in the middle, clutching his latest haul of dinosaur merchandise, and pulling a funny face at the camera. Both Charlie and the woman have a hand on Henry’s shoulder, and an arm around each other. Her head is resting against Charlie’s chest, and he is looking down at her and Henry with a small, soft smile.

They look like a family, Nicole thinks, feeling slightly sick.

And just like that, Self-Care Sunday is over.

#22/11/2020 #facetime #tw: argument

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notasiren21 · 4 years

Text

To those who want to kill themselves:

I’m not going to sugarcoat this at all. I’ll be gentle at times and then rather aggressive. And for good reason...

Because you deserve to fucking live.

I’m aware there’s blatant bullying, discreet and subtle bullying that makes you question if you’re just being sensitive and taking things too seriously (most of the time you’re not, trust me), neglect, familial issues, and then situational instances that pound into your heart and head consistently.

Believe it or not, but the cliché term of “it does get better” is true, just as long as you yourself is willing to check its validity and try.

I thought of several ways like drowning myself in the bathtub and hoping my fingertips would slip on the rims so I couldn’t pull myself up when my body got weak/ holding a knife to my chest while crying/ contemplating on just taking those three steps into the road when I was supposed to get the mail/ jumping off my balcony/ finishing off my oxycodone pills from a wisdom teeth surgery/ etc.

Maybe I’m a coward or was weak, but I could never follow through with it. Just left with that same bottle lying in a medicine basket somewhere or had a brief puncture mark on my chest that just broke the skin with the tip, whatever.

Crying myself to sleep almost every night because it was too much.

Honestly, I think being a coward and weak was the best thing to happen to me.

I lost a boyfriend from how much my anxiety and suicidal thoughts consumed me and had to tell my parents why I was dumped which led to me seeing their faces when I fessed up and said “I’m not happy, I’m not okay”.

It’s funny because I’ve had a cry for help several times through stuff I’ve written and published on fanfic sites, stuff I’ve given to my teacher to read senior year, literally telling my AP Lit class two years ago I was depressed and thought suicidal shit (only 8 of us in that class and teacher) and being told “it’s just like that sometimes, gotta shake it off”, “don’t let people’s words get to you”, “yea, same” and having a teacher pretend like she heard nothing.

That one time I was brave, and I was waved off.

I know there are times where you finally find your voice for that one split second and then you’re ignored, and you feel yourself rescinding back to mute and distant.

I know you’re plastering a smile on constantly to fool others because you’re afraid what will happen when they find out.

It sucks, doesn’t it?

When you hear so many voices in your head playing that record on repeat of the things you most want to forget. Having those nightmares occur where someone takes the final step to push you to your edge. Seeing the annoyed rolling of eyes or blatant show of disinterest of you.

Nine years of schooling, because after 3rd grade, I was just one of those girls who females decided to hate for breathing or asking a question. So nine years I was trying not to victimize myself in my head and justifying why everyone acted the way they did to me.

Teenage girls and teachers alike made my life hell. The girls never gave me the chance and teachers treated me like I was some lost cause that couldn’t even make it to merit roll and like my work was shit.

“Oh, you sure you can make it into the media production film? I don’t think you’ll be able to make shows like you planned. Maybe try for something else.”

“Your writing is, it’s okay. Try harder next time.”

I struggled with grades in high school and wondered if I’d even graduate.

I made the president’s list my first year of college. Got straight A’s. My English professors loved to leave excited feedback on my essays and were amazed how quickly I could conjure one up and fix my own mistakes before peer review.

My professors talked about me to one another and when I met the new ones, they already knew of me.

My history professor begged me to write a poem for a book he’s writing and publishing near 2021.

My creative writing professor attacked me with an email of compliments over a chapter book of poems I wrote where i took them in the order written so it was me at my worst, to me fooling myself, to me losing and falling back, to me trying for help, to me being the best I’ve ever been. >I also made him cry in a class writing experiment with less than 300 words.

(Idk maybe the bitch is that sensitive but he was chill)

My point is: fucking block out what other people say or do to you. Tell someone you trust you need help and stop kidding yourself.

And please, for the love of god, if it is really that bad then do not make yourself so naive into believing a friend or partner can take the brunt of it all and fix you.

It may work for some time, but if you’re still suffering, they will too and neither of you will win in the end.

I took to therapy and it worked. And I dropped all the toxic shit out of my life and moved on.

I may not use social media besides Tumblr or Discord, but I’m more present in life than I was before and not comparing myself to others anymore.

I dropped friends that made me feel bad and bashed things I liked or would cause issues and I have a peace of mind (as much as one can have one during a pandemic and such).

Get the help. Find ways to receive help if you can’t financially afford it. Find that courage to tell someone you trust that listens to you that you are suffering and need that professional help and to be taken seriously.

I was the first to walk the graduation stage of my 2019 class, and I thought I’d be the first of us to die because I couldn’t move past everything I’ve endured from a large majority of them.

I would’ve missed how positively my life turned around.

I would’ve destroyed my parents, little sister, and brother for being so selfish.

I’m the middle child, the good kid with a career in mind and the mediator of the family. And I’m used to not being the favorite but appreciated one.

My dad confessed to me that I was his favorite and I never want to hear it again.

You never want to hear a man you see as the strongest person you know say that while trying not to cry and keep his voice normal, you don’t want to hear “You were always my favorite” said in such a thick voice it brings tears to your eyes.

Your life matters.

This isn’t Sims where you can move on to the next household member. This isn’t like throwing LEGO R2-D2 off a cliff with that iconic scream only or lose a few coins. This isn’t a fucking game.

And I am so sick of hearing people treat it like some quest you get once in your life:

“You’ll be okay.”

“Cheer up.”

“It’s just a phase.”

Etc.

It’s all fucking bullshit. We live in a world that sugarcoats the severity of someone’s life when it’s presented in front of us while on the precipice of shattering.

You deserve to live. Anyone who tells you otherwise is the one who loses the right to be considered human or a person, not you.

Do not let someone dictate your life’s outcome because they don’t agree with you or like you.

And please, for all that is good in this world, don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re alright when you don’t feel it.

Hang in for one extra day to gather the strength and tell someone you need help.

Everyone acts so ashamed of it but it was the best thing that happened to me after being such a weak coward and now, I’m genuinely happy. And it was a lot of work to get here.

Want to know where all my angst and suffering had gone to? Just ask the characters in the books and fanfic content I’ve written. I’m sure they don’t appreciate it, but those stories wouldn’t exist if I gave up then.

And believe it or not, people will fucking miss you like hell if you killed yourself. It’s just too hard to see it right now and I was blinded before too.

Not everyone has the same opinion of you. Not everyone matters in your life.

You’re living this life singlehandedly by yourself while surrounded by others experiencing the same thing. Don’t let that opportunity go to waste.

And if you need distractions, indulge yourself in the harmless guilty pleasures like I do.

It can get better if you just open yourself to it.

It can get better if you get help.

You really must be so tired, isn’t it time you stopped pretending?

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soranihimawari · 4 years

Text

where he loved you

you would count on one hand the various times you’ve been in love. their names were “who,” “what,” “when,” “where,” and finally, “why.” those prompting words belonged to different boys throughout your school years since you entered junior high. you had often heard your mother chatting with your neighbor, one of the parents of the twin boys who were curious about the timid kid who lived a few houses down the block. for the life of you, you could not come up with a good enough excuse, even at the ripe old age of ten years old, to remove yourself from eating dinner at the miya household. the twins in your class were always causing mayhem with their crazy hijinks during recess, yet your mother shot you a glare saying you were going with her and that was that.

so when your mother suggested you wear your “fancy” clothes for the welcoming dinner party you weren’t expecting one of those twin demons to actually compliment your jumper dress. you had your bangs pinned to the side with small fox shaped barretts. you looked up at your mom who nudged your shoulder cuing your ten year old self to say, “thanks ‘samu.” his brother, atsumu, on the other hand, sent you a curious glance, but nonetheless showed you all their lego sets. right before you and your mother left their house, you extended both of your pinkies to the twins (who were surprisingly calmer at home) making them promise to be your first best friends ever.

at ten years old, you realize you might begin liking living in a new part of hyogo.

-- SEVERAL YEARS LATER: inarizaki high school, free period --

“oi! y/n-san! you got miyas on your three o’clock,” your classmate, nagisa-chan, called out to you and you inhaled a deep breath, then upon the exhale you heard atsumu’s voice reverberate from the entrance to your classroom.

“hey there baby cakes,” atsumu always had greeted you with wonderful terms of endearment. every day it was something new and rather than make a fuss over the one he called you today, you just went along with it. “listen there was something ‘samu and i needed a third party to settle for us.”

the sound of his voice seemed to be in it’s jovial range, meaning the now blond-haired twin was feeling a little overly confident. you mentally calculated the amount of steps it would take the twins to approach your desk allowing you to mentally prepare for whatever it was atsumu was going to throw at you. when you reached the holy number of seven (they took broader strides ever since they grew taller), atsumu was walking toward your desk with his brother not too far behind. they were dressed in their athleisure gear for their club while you were still seen in your uniform. you were writing down the last part of your essay on the allusions to nature from the western romantic authors of the 18th century, but you took a break every now and then to enjoy a sip of canned hot cocoa.

“and praytell what would that be, ‘tsumu?” you folded your arms neatly on your desk. throughout the past six years, you grew up alongside the miya twins, so you were already accustomed to the way atsumu furrowed his brows as a silent tell that he was about say something stupid.

“now i need you to be one-percent honest with me.”

“miya atsumu, we’ve known each other for the last six years, built dozens of castles made from legos, hell, i even watched you get your first kiss on the jungle gym last year by the park close to home, and now you’re wondering if my honesty is real?” you were enjoying atsumu’s face fall into a panic when you recounted all of the milestones he bragged to you about. stifling a laugh, you glanced behind atsumu’s shoulder returning osamu’s nod of salutations. “see? this is why my other friends think osamu is the better twin.“

“hah!” osamu scoffed unaware of your small increase heartbeat. your brain clearly labeled it as nerves, but the muscle in your chest cavity said otherwise. yes, you did grow up together, so you were accustomed to how each of them grew into their features and you’d have to be blind to the way your circle of girl friends fawned over the volleyball siblings. “see, this is why i’m glad she made us make that pinkie promise.”

“shut it ‘samu.”

you poked atsumu’s cheek with the back of the pen you were using, a useful tactic to discipline him for being rude to his sibling thus causing the blond setter to laugh too.

“now, what exactly do you want me to settle for you two?” you asked, removing the pen from atsumu’s face.

atsumu turned to face his brother for a moment before shrugging their shoulders as if to say, “just ask her. it’s not that hard man.”

“we was wonderin’ if you prefer sweet snacks over onigiri,“ atsumu stammers. “i said you always liked sweets. you always ate candy whenever you came over.”

“uh-huh. well, that part may be true, ‘tsum,“ you begin. then you let out a short giggle. “but i do prefer eel onigiri over sweets. sorry ‘tsum.”

then, without any forewarning, atsumu decided to spill one of the biggest secrets he was for sure going to get yelled at for at home before he turned on his heels to leave:

“okay good. because i’m pretty sure my little brother is going to make you eel onigiri to go along with his confessing his undying love for you.“

“huh?!“ you and osamu both exclaimed when you jumped up from your desk. all color drained from the younger twin’s face as he recalled confiding in his brother how he really felt about you earlier that school year after you three walked home one spring afternoon in your first year.

when the rest of the class heard what atsumu had mentioned, the girls in your class gave the soundtrack from live t.v. a chorus of “awws,” were heard as you seized both of the siblings hands and politely, yet hastily, dragged them both outside of your homeroom. you dragged them into the music room and immediately shut the door behind you.

“i never once wanted to be an only child up until ten minutes ago,” you heard osamu mumble when you walked past him. you glanced up at his brother for brief moment before letting out an exasperated sigh.

“atsumu, i don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but you should know better than either of us, it’s not nice to play with other people’s feelings. especially when it involves the three of us.“ you said as you paced back and forth in front of them. “i suggest you leave now before osamu makes good on his promise of wanting to be an only child. i’ll see you after practice, yeah?”

atsumu nodded, he had knowing smirk once he closed the door again, leaning against it to keep watch (aaand to eavesdrop).

osamu ran a hand through his now dark gray hair, his eyes focusing on everything else but you. his secret was out thanks to atsumu, which wasn’t part of how he was going to confess to you at all, yet life finds away. especially when karma presented itself so deliciously in his brother’s lap.

“now that ‘tsumu’s gone, mind explaining to me what he meant by ‘confessing his undying love’?” you inquired. you stopped pacing at that point to study how osamu stood across from you thinking about how to feign innocence prior to abandoning all reasonable excuses. his marble gray eyes visibly softening soaking up the way the sun had decided to shroud you in a golden hue. your hair was brushed back behind your neck since your pacing had caused it to flutter about behind you.

“’samu, why are you just standing there looking at me like that? do i have something on my face?” your voice brought his thoughts to a screeching hault.

instead, with whatever courage osamu had stored, he gripped your shoulders gently leaning in.

“you can stop me if this is weird for you,” his words danced across your cupid’s bow. and when your hands find their resting place around his shoulders when you slightly stood up on your tip-toes, closing your eyes you closed the short gap between you and osamu’s lips. if someone were to ask osamu what kissing you felt like, he would tell them your mouth tasted like first of november; warm and bright, similar to the feeling of drinking hot cocoa for the first time that year. when you break the kiss as you returned to standing flatly on the ground, the two of you realize something together.

“i’ve been in love you since the day you came over for the first time when we were ten,” osamu says, a coy smile finds its way to his mouth. your curious eyes widen at the brazen forwardness of his statement, you close and open your mouth feeling your breath hitching in your throat, so you just nod. osamu instead of releasing your shoulders from his hands, he pulls your body flush against his own; you swear you could hear how erratic his heart was nervously beating. all this was because of you.

“osamu?“ your voice was timid this time when your hand traces tiny spirals on his shoulder blades in a way to relieve some of his outlying anxiety spewing forth from his confession.

“hmm?”

“count to ten for me, yeah?” you feel him hum again; you remove your left hand away from his shoulder and cup the side of his face. he leaned into your palm with eyes closed as if he were about to cry like the one time he scraped his knee after his bike flipped over at the park when you were eleven, but having you cradle his head in your tiny hands prevented him from doing so. when he reached nine, you gave yourself a mental pep talk right as he finished counting...

ever so slowly, inexorably, you press your lips onto his again. the action was kind, gentle, and chaste. it was then that you both notice that maybe there’s no fireworks or sparks like in the movies you forced the twins to watch with you on valentine’s day, but it’s better than anything the scripts could come up with – there is a wave of passion that fills his mind up with memories of how much he craved for you to return all those stolen glances atsumu would tease him for days on end; it was spilling out from his heart now and you were relentless in letting osamu know how much those mutual feelings were returned by fact you allow yourself to deepen this embrace the further you both plummet in desire.

by the time you exit the classroom, hand in hand with osamu leading the way, you pretend to not notice the way atsumu had this “i told you so” air about him.

you and osamu were sixteen years old when it dawned on you that you had fell in love for the fourth time (osamu would essentially be the one to teach you the lesson of “where you love”) completely unaware that your new lover’s twin brother swallowed his pride for just a second to realize you were the one to teach him the answer for “why he loves.”

—bonus inspiration photo collage below—

disclaimer: I found all these images on Pinterest & used the borders app to collage the images. all content belong to the original owners.

thanks for reading!

#who what when where and why #miya osumu #osamu x reader #hq fictions #love is a messy thing #fluff with a twist!#back on my nonsense #⌚️queued

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100hearteyes · 5 years

Photo

Lexa travels back in time to prevent her girlfriend’s death, for which she was responsible, from happening.

TW: past character death, grief.

(thank you @butmakeitgayblog for the moodboard and beta’ing.)

–

Three moments.

Three key moments, however inconsequential they may seem, triggered a chain of events which culminated in Clarke and Lexa meeting for the first time.

For Lexa, it was instant attraction. For Clarke, although they would only find out many years later, it was the promise of doom.

“You can’t just erase me from your existence, you know? I’ll still be there.”

I might still die, is what Clarke doesn’t say. Lexa hears it anyway.

Nowadays, Clarke is but a ghost. Literally. Lexa has no idea how or even why it happened, but it had been an exact year since her girlfriend died when her non-corporeal form first showed up.

It was… gut-wrenching. Lexa has no words for how painful it was to see the love of her life in otherworldly tones of grey and not be able to touch her. It’s become easier with time, but she suspects this hollow ache that pulsates every time Clarke appears to her will ever go away.

“You’re the one who told me there was a way. You said it would work.”

This Clarke is Clarke, or rather the continuation of her; but she’s also not exactly the woman Lexa knew, regardless of the shape she has taken. This Clarke is rude and unsympathetic and has little to no regard for boundaries.

She’s an unpleasant version of the love of Lexa’s life.

Still, it’s hard to dissociate them. Lexa must do it, though, for the sake of her own sanity.

“I said you could avoid being the reason why I die,” Clarke states. “I meant it. You can.”

This journey has taken Lexa to remote places and from each she took tokens of different cultures and outlooks on life. She’s learned about grief and guilt. She’s learned to accept what she cannot control and respect what she doesn’t know. Above all, she’s come to a realization: if this doesn’t work, she can take the final steps to let go. This isn’t the final step towards the precipice.

Two years ago, Lexa would’ve lost herself looking for Clarke. Now, she’s finding herself again, parsing through the grief and plucking the parts of her she’d lost after everything that happened. And the puzzle is coming together, piece by piece and day by day, creating a new version of her which may not be whole anymore and may not be exactly who she was before — but it’s her, and it’s imperfect and it’s beautiful.

Lexa has learned to love herself again.

So this isn’t a desperate Hail Mary, her one last resort, the final step into madness. If anything, wherever it may lead her, this is closure.

The first door she opened was in Cape Town, South Africa, where Clarke was born before her family moved back to the States.

It was a cold December morning. On her side of the door, Lexa was thirty and falling apart. On the other side, Clarke was five and building a tower with Lego blocks.

Lexa felt herself staring long into an abyss.

All she had to do was relocate a single object and leave through the same door she’d come from. Days later, when she returned to her home country, she found out Jake was still alive. His daughter was not, though.

The second door she opened almost three months later. February 25th, Lexa’s home city. All she did was drop Anya’s phone into a lake.

When she came back, all her problems were gone.

It sent her reeling.

Lexa began to wonder; was she doing this for Clarke, or for herself?

She was meant to open the third and final door just a week later, but spent the 3rd of March holed up in her apartment, curled into a ball on the couch. She had jumped into this without a second thought, out of a selfish desire to relieve herself of the guilt of Clarke’s death.

Someone else had paid the consequences. Someone else was making her mistakes now and paying for them. Someone else was going to have a loved one ripped from their life.

What right did Lexa have to unload her burden onto someone else’s shoulders?

It took her months to get back on her feet. If the past year and a half had been an amalgam of denial, anger, and, with her selfish undertaking, bargaining, her second voyage in time had triggered the stage of depression, reflection, and loneliness.

It was then that she finally came to terms with ghost Clarke’s presence in her life. The afterlife form of her girlfriend gave her the tough love she needed to push herself off the ground. Clarke punched Lexa into motion and through it, Lexa found acceptance.

Lexa loves herself, now. She loves herself like she never did before, even when Clarke’s love made her feel invincible. Now, she sees the cracks and hard edges, the places where the cloth of her doesn’t reach far enough to breach the gaps, and she’s made peace with it.

Her shortcomings are no longer defined by her limits, but rather what she lets herself be limited by.

Lexa flexes her fingers. “What happens if I open this door?”

“I turn right instead of left. We never cross paths on the Brooklyn Bridge.”

This door has been locked for two years. Lexa never opened it, afraid of the crushing feelings that may lurk behind it. Behind it is Clarke’s studio, where she spent hours painting, the outside world all but forgotten. Lexa would sit in the corner, laptop perched on crossed legs, pretending to work but really watching Clarke print her talent on canvas.

Lexa feels ready to open it, now, even if what she finds behind it is a row of paintings leaning on purple walls, rather than gray skies and the wooden planks of the Brooklyn Bridge.

She has two conditions, though. Her fingers tighten on the handle.

“Do you live?”

“Lexa, you know I can’t–” Clarke stops short at Lexa’s stern glare and sighs. “Yes.”

But that’s not enough. Lexa won’t be selfish again — she doesn’t just want Clarke to survive; she wants her to live.

“Will you be happy?”

Clarke averts her eyes, then swallows. However, when her eyes meet Lexa’s after she’s taken a fortifying breath, there is nothing but honesty in them. “Yes.”

“Were you?”

Lexa’s heart constricts as Clarke’s eyes well with tears. What does it take to make a ghost cry?

Clarke nods, tries to get hold of her emotions. Her lips tremble and Lexa wants desperately to take her in her arms. If only she could.

“More than I can ever put into words.”

–

March 3rd, the day everything changed.

Twice.

The day Lexa found Clarke and the day she lost her.

Lexa opens the door and finds herself once again on that day, seven years ago, when she was trying to balance three cardboard boxes while speed walking down the Brooklyn Bridge, trying not to crash into any people — or worse, topple over the railings and fall to a wet death.

It was fruitless, of course. Just about to cry mission accomplished, she collided with something solid and everything in her hands went flying.

Not this time.

This time, Lexa changes the course of events and Clarke never crosses that bridge.

She watches from afar as her past self makes it to the other end of the bridge unscathed and a whole new life rolls out in front of her.

“You did well.”

Clarke appears at her side, colorless though still beautiful. There is a nostalgia to her expression, a knife that slashes at the relief that blankets it.

As she studies Clarke’s face and her mind fills the grays with color, drawing memories along the light edges dark lines, Lexa finds herself unwilling to let go. She moves to take Clarke’s hand, but catches herself at the last moment, remembering the colors she’s seeing are a figment of her memories and there is nothing she can touch.

Clarke notices, though, and regards her with such sympathy and compassion Lexa wants to run away with her and never open the door again.

“Come with me.”

They stroll down the bridge, side by side, their tranquility offsetting the electric current stringing everyone around them; the runners and the hurried, the young and the old, together. They find a bench to sit on and stay there for a while, watching the river run its course and the sun arch over the city and the people fall into slumber as the hours go by.

Can she stay here? Can she live a life in a world not her own, in a time asynchronous to hers, under the guise of having Clarke at her side?

She knows the answer to those questions. She’s long since learned that what she wants isn’t always what she needs — and vice versa.

“I’m proud of you.” Lexa meets Clarke’s gaze. Human or ghost, and despite the absence of color, Clarke’s eyes are beautiful. Lexa has always found solace in them, a rock to hold on to in times of need. She hopes she’s been able to provide even a fragment of that same comfort. “How are you feeling?”

It takes Lexa a few moments to sift through the throng of thoughts and feelings which this day has brought forth. Even now, she has doubts. But greater than anything, and the driving force behind her actions, is the desire to make things right.

She finds a feeling amongst the rubble and makes it hers. Peace. She feels…

She feels at peace.

However, after spending two years with the grumpy ghost of the woman of her life, Lexa is also feeling nostalgia as well as the pain over her upcoming loss.

Ghost Clarke was a way to remain connected to the past. Now, Lexa has to let go of that too.

“I hope I was able to make a difference,” she finally replies, eyes still locked with Clarke’s. “It’s not even about my guilt anymore. It doesn’t matter if we meet, either. I have made my peace with what happened. I just… I wanted to give you a chance.”

A chance to live; not just survive.

“You did it, Lexa.”

Lexa has made her peace with her role in Clarke’s death as well as the tragedy itself. The wound will always marr her skin, but it will no longer hurt when she touches it.

All she cares about now is for Clarke to be alive and most of all happy, even if it’s not with Lexa.

Several hours later, Lexa’s hand is once again resting on the doorknob, this time waiting to go back to her world — or whatever of it is left.

Clarke is staring at her, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. At Lexa’s questioning look, once-pink lips pull up into a rueful smile.

“Everything will be different.”

Clarke will be alive, her life will follow threads unknown to her till now. Lexa knows things will change. She also knows she will never see Clarke again in whatever shape or form.

Each time she remembers that, the ground beneath her quakes. She holds tighter onto the doorknob, determined to stay on her feet.

When she meets Clarke’s eyes again, they’re shining with unshed tears. Lexa nods, solemn.

Words would taint the moment.

“It was never about me, you know? I just wanted,” Clarke moves as to reach out, but catches herself. She clears her throat. “It was never about what would happen to me. I just- I wanted to lift the weight of guilt off your shoulders, give you closure. I-,” she chuckles humorlessly, eyes flitting to the ground for a moment before meeting Lexa’s again. “I need you to know, I’m still me. There was never… I never would’ve been able to help you if I didn’t put some distance between us. That’s why I behaved differently. But I was always still me.”

And Lexa knows this, knows what she’s saying. She always has.

“Your happiness is all that matters to me, Lexa.” Lexa opens her mouth, but a shake of Clarke’s head stops her. “Please don’t. Otherwise I’ll say something to make you stay.”

Lexa aches to touch her, kiss her, though she knows she can do neither, and her hands shake with the urge to close the space between them.

Instead, she turns the handle and opens the door. Before she can go, though, she turns to face Clarke one more time, needing to commit every single detail to memory, as though every line of Clarke’s face, every nuance, every emotion, isn’t already burned into her mind’s eye forever.

So she knows the broken words before Clarke speaks them.

“I love you, Lex. And I’ll always be with you.”

It’s with those soft words cradling her heart that Lexa crosses the threshold.

–

One of the first things Clarke told her, when they started, was that Lexa would remember everything, both her own memories and her new version’s, but the original ones — the timeline where Clarke died — would fade with time.

Clarke also told her things would change.

So Lexa was expecting to step into a different world and to be surprised at how much had changed around her.

She just wasn’t expecting her life to be quite so different.

Clarke’s friends are no longer her friends. She expected that, but the reality of it is overwhelming at first. She realizes, now, she often took them and the support they gave her for granted. Suddenly, having none of them to lean on, she feels crippled.

On the other hand, she has a different, better job. And as it turns out, her new self has left behind the concrete stuffiness of New York and embraced the free-spirited intellectualism of San Francisco, which isn’t just a different city — it’s on the other side of the country. Any latent hopes she might have had of somehow finding Clarke have vanished.

It takes her a while to adapt to all the changes, but a year later she’s back on her feet and the life she had before is now but a distant memory. She still dreams about Clarke, though the dreams are fewer and further between. Selfishly, she thanks the universe for the small reprieve.

Her old problems don’t haunt her anymore and, if not for the absence of Clarke, this would be a perfect life.

At least she’s doing her best to make it so.

She’s also learning to treat herself better than she did in her past life. Embracing the practice of being kinder to herself is refreshing. Freeing.

It’s the pursuit of one such self-indulgence that she finds a small coffee shop downtown, which she starts going to every day before work.

Today is no exception.

As she waits in line, Lexa distracts herself, noting down her to-do list for the day ahead. As she’s debating whether to go to the grocery store before or after her late afternoon run, she doesn’t notice her pen sliding down the page and falling to an early demise, until she feels a tap on her shoulder.

“Excuse me, you dropped this.”

Lexa turns around to thank her good Samaritan, a gratitude sat ready on the tip of her tongue, only for her breath to catch at the sight.

Because she’s as stunning as ever…

Clarke.

#clexa #clexa fic #clexa au #my fics #mine

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platypanthewriter · 4 years

Text

Yuletide Fic 5/5

Part One/Two/Three/Four/Five Read them as I post here, or all at once in Ao3 under peterqpan

What hadn’t occurred to Billy while planning for Santa was how long he and Steve would have to lie silently, waiting for the whispers around them to subside. The kids kept eating the Santa cookies, and then getting up to get more, and Will had the giggles about something. He kept wriggling out of the sleeping bags to put on more Christmas carols.

El kept sitting up at the slightest noise, staring suspiciously out the window, and Max wasn’t helping, all “What was that? Did you hear something?”

Jonathan’s shoulders shook suspiciously over on the couch, but at least he was quiet.

Steve didn’t let Billy throw anything at Max and El, and when Billy started to suggest knocking Dustin and Will out with blunt force trauma instead, Steve cupped his face with both hands, smiling at him in the light of the tree. They were scooted down far enough in the zipped-together sleeping bags that the edge shielded them from sight, their knees touching, and Billy let his eyes close as he leaned into Steve’s warm hands.

“Love you,” Billy whispered, almost inaudibly. “See, it’s romantic now.”

“It’s always romantic,” Steve whispered back, which Billy should have expected, honestly, from the man he’d had to flee earlier because he was professing his love loudly in the grocery store over Billy’s choice in mustard.

“Loser,” Billy sighed, squirming closer, and biting back a laugh at the feeling of Steve kissing his forehead, and his ears, and across his cheeks to his eyelids, and down his nose. Billy reached out and grabbed his boyfriend by the back of the neck, pulling him into a real kiss, but soft, so the kids couldn’t hear. “Merry goddamn Christmas,” he whispered, under the annoying, tinny tones of Marie and Donnie Osmond, apparently taped from the TV special. Steve snorted a laugh against his lips, and Billy could feel him grinning.

“Thanks,” Steve whispered, and Billy stroked his thumb over the base of Steve’s skull, and the shell of his ear, feeling the muscles move as he smiled.

“All I did was get out of your way,” Billy whispered. “But I get you tomorrow night, Harrington.”

“No, you—you did all this,” Steve whispered back. “I wouldn’t’ve thought of inviting the Byers. Or the tree. You invited Dustin.”

“Dustin invited himself,” Billy pointed out, and Steve nodded, squirming closer.

“You said it was okay,” he whispered. “I’d be...this’d be every other Christmas,” he laughed, a little catch in his voice, and pressed in for another kiss, murmuring against Billy’s lips, “Except for you. Love you. Babe. Billy Hargrove.”

“...I haven’t even killed you a reindeer yet,” Billy told him, his face so hot he could feel the blood pounding in his ears. “Jesus.”

“I love you anyway,” Steve whispered, kissing his face again. “I’m generous that way. Y’know. Even to losers who can’t even bring me a reindeer.”

Thank god, Billy thought, turning his head to kiss deeper, tasting frosting, and feeling Steve tremble against him, panting for breath. Thank god he shut up about loving me. Thank god he loves a loser who doesn’t bring him reindeer. He slid his hand up inside Steve’s shirt, under his sweater, and felt his breath hitch. Steve slid a socked foot over, hooking Billy’s leg by the ankle to sandwich their knees together, so their bodies were close enough to feel warm.

“Let’s sing carols,” Dustin said loudly, and Steve scrambled away, sat up in the zipped-together sleeping bags, and beaned him with a pillow he yanked off the couch, which had the fortunate side effect of dumping Jonathan Byers' ass on the floor. He yelled.

Billy should have expected the thankfully brief pillow fight, in which Will got the giggles so bad he fell over, Dustin took a three-pointer in the face from Max, and Jonathan Byers threw pillows at Steve, missing every time.

El smacked everyone indiscriminately, and Steve tried to be some kind of stealth ninja slithering around on sleeping bags while Billy called out plays like a sports announcer, but after they all flopped horizontal again, panting, the kid’s giggles finally petered off, and then there was silence.

It was time.

“How come I didn’t get a home run,” Steve whispered as they retrieved El’s bike from where Hopper’d slid it under the table, as Jonathan tiptoed off for the stockings.

“Didn’t hit the ceiling beam,” Billy whispered back, making it up as he went along. “Gotta hit the ceiling beam before it drops on somebody.”

“I should have got a penalty shot when they all ganged up on me,” Steve huffed, sitting out Dustin’s Commodore 64 games, and Will’s new markers. There was a photography book for Jonathan, and Billy waited until Steve wandered off to stick the two albums he’d bought him kinda behind it— Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, and The Police: Synchronicity. Steve used one of his dad’s ski boots to make an ash print by the stove, before helping Jonathan prop stockings up not-too-near the fireplace, so the chocolate inside wouldn’t melt by morning.

Max had new walkie-talkies too, and Billy sat them out with mixed feelings, wondering who the second one would go to—her mom?! He hailed Steve over to have him write a note, too—Dear Max, it said, I have given your step-brother Billy a little Christmas spirit, so he’ll drive you to get a skateboard repair kit.

“Why am I writing it,” Steve hissed.

“She knows my handwriting, dingus,” said Billy, knowing she didn’t believe in Santa, but also buying in, a little, to the illusion.

Steve looked at him for a long second, and then yanked him in for a kiss.

They’d barely climbed back in their sleeping bags when Billy heard bells, and thought really, Hopper? Fuck you. Really?!

El sprang up, stumbling sleepily over Dustin and Will to the window, and from their grunts and muttered expletives, possibly doing internal damage. “Bells,” El mumbled, squinting outside just as they all jumped at the loud thud, and scraping noise, and El turned to stare at Max and yell “It’s his sleigh! It’s his sleigh!” before peeling off to run out the back door to stare up at the sky as Max fixed a sleepy, but extremely suspicious, glower on Billy.

“The fuck was that,” she hissed, and Steve said “Santa!”

“Go away, Santa, too early,” Dustin mumbled, and Billy’s liking for the kid grew three sizes that moment.

“It’s not even two in the morning,” Steve whispered, laughing, and pointing to the digital clock on the VCR, but Mrs. Henderson, Joyce, and Susan all stumbled downstairs, shivering and blinking sleepily, followed by Hopper.

He hummed as he put the kettle on, rubbing his hands together as his kid froze outside like The Little Match Girl, looking for Santa in her pajamas, and Billy finally went to the door with Dustin and yelled “El! Get in here, you’ll freeze!”

She yelled something back, but it got lost in the arctic wind, until she ran back, shivering, and held out a half-eaten carrot like she’d found the Holy Grail. “They dropped this!” she whispered, and Billy dropped a blanket on her head, and walked away to stand by the fire as Dustin pulled her inside, and Will saw his Santa-given markers and yelled.

Steve came up and threw his arms around Billy, either out of joy, or the realization he needed to stop his boyfriend from murdering the sheriff.

The kids all milled around the tree, Dustin’s fingers actually twitching towards the games, but they all noticed the time, and stared warily at their parents—except El, who was wrapped up in a blanket in the arms of the main offender, her snowflake-patterned socks sticking out as she yelled something muffled about Santa.

“Guess we’re opening presents now!” said Joyce Byers, grinning as she watched Jonathan catch sight of the photography book, and Will sitting, cross legged in front of his markers, his eyes wide and fixed on their target. El found her bike and yelled, snatching the note, and Max frowned at the handwriting over her shoulder, then fixed a startled frown on Billy, who shrugged. Max's eyes narrowed as El ran to show Hopper the note, and Billy looked away, watching Dustin rub his face briskly and trundle over to sit under the tree.

Dustin passed his mom a package, grinning up at her, and she crouched to hug his head.

“You’re all insane,” Billy whispered, warming to the idea of Christmas, a bit, as El passed him more hot chocolate, even though Jonathan immediately ruined everything by putting the Rudolph Christmas special on the VCR.

“Euuuugh,” Billy groaned, leaning his head against Steve’s.

In the ensuing melee, Billy ducked around flung Star Wars toys, Legos, what looked like a camping tent, a Ghostbusters baseball cap, and a rainbow of hats and scarves from Mrs. Henderson, who’d apparently made some for everyone there.

“How’d you have time,” Joyce breathed, running her fingers over a pattern in brown and green, and Claudia Henderson shrugged.

“Dustin’s cousins never send thank you cards anyway,” she said, grinning and handing packages to Billy, Steve, and Hopper.

Billy squeezed his, blinking at her, and she patted his shoulder. If Claudia Henderson could brave the wrapping-paper explosion, so could he, he figured, so he edged around to grab Steve’s stocking, and handed it over. “I’m giving this to you on one knee,” he whispered, and Steve blinked at him, then stared down at the stocking.

Instead of pulling out orange after orange, as Billy’d anticipated, Steve dumped it over his lap in a shower of fruit and walnuts, and burst out laughing at the ring-pop Billy’d stuck in the bottom. He yanked the wrapper open and put it on his finger, admiring the huge cherry candy gem, and leaned to whisper “I do.”

Billy flushed and scrambled away to find his actual presents for his boyfriend, rather than watch Steve stare into his eyes, swirling his tongue around his ring-pop, his mouth already red from the food coloring. Billy scrambled half under the tree and yanked out the first aid kit, and the cold-weather kit with handwarmers and foil blankets, and passed them up to Steve, who looked startled unwrapping them, then fond.

“I’ll be ready for anything,” he said, and Billy snorted.

“Can you be ready for anything in Hawkins?” Billy shot back, and Steve beamed at him.

Billy’s Santa presents for Steve, the albums, had been snatched up by Will and Jonathan, he realized after crawling around. They surrendered them after arranging some copies in trade, and Billy handed them over to their proper recipient while Steve stared at the pile of presents growing around him, and agreed to give one of his new walkie-talkies to Dustin.

Which made sense, Billy thought, it wasn't like Billy even knew how to use the damn thing. He didn't even know if he lived close enough to Steve for the damn thing to work, and it was probably more important to Steve that the kids could find him when they found monsters.

Steve was wearing one of his new mittens on the hand without the ring-pop, and the matching burgundy scarf, and Billy sat and watched him as he opened the note from Joyce, inviting him for New Years, and grinned at her.

Billy forgot he was in the middle of the whole Christmas mess until Max punched him in the shoulder, and shoved the note Steve had written in front of his face. “This true?” she asked, scowling. “You’re gonna take me to buy a skate kit.”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging, and she stared.

“Santa is real,” she muttered, crawling back over to where El was trying on her new bike helmet.

Steve pushed his haul aside, pausing to blink at a wrapped package from Susan, and waved Billy over as he slowly ripped it open. Two packaged Hot Wheels cars spilled out into his lap—a BMW and a Camaro, and Steve looked delighted. "They're our cars," he whispered, grinning at Billy, his eyes sparkling in the lights from the tree as he ripped the cardboard off the backs, and touched their front bumpers gently together.

Billy shoved them down, hissing, "Don't make our cars kiss."

"But they're in love," Steve whispered back, bumping them together again, and Billy leaned his face in his hand and groaned.

He glanced over at Susan, sitting next to Max and El as El told his stepmom about things you could put in bike wheels to make noise. He couldn't picture Susan Hargrove going through the toy aisle, finding their cars, and he wondered for a wild moment if Max had, but that was even harder to picture. Steve kissed the cars bumpers together again, making a smoochy noise, and Billy elbowed him. He couldn't figure out what the cars had even been for—she wouldn't have given them to him—so the remaining option was Susan had shopped for Steve, intending the whole time to give him little toy cars in a mismatched pair.

Steve put both cars in his hand, their undercarriages pressed together, and rolled their tires together with a sly grin, and Billy smacked his hand again, reddening. “Okay, so,” Steve said finally, “—I didn’t know you’d want to come.”

“It’s fine,” Billy laughed, but Steve shook him gently by the shoulders.

“No, it’s not, but I gotta find you something better than what Bradley's Big Buy had, okay. All I got you was this—” he pushed a squishy package into Billy’s hands, and Billy ripped it open to find a soft sweater, clingier than the horse blanket Steve had pulled over his head earlier. “It’s the color of your—no, it’s not,” Steve said, squinting into his face, and Billy started snickering as Steve grabbed him by both arms and pushed him closer to the tree, then pulled him back, then walked him through the all the sprawled kids and around the other side. “There,” Steve said proudly. “It’s the color of your eyes.”

“I can’t see them,” Billy reminded him, grinning, and Steve stared at his mouth, licking his own lips, then groaned quietly in the back of his throat and stalked back to the couch, sucking on the ring-pop.

“Billy,” said Susan, holding out two rectangular department-store boxes with fancy bows, and Billy bit his lips together and sat down right where he was, lifting the lid on the top one. It was a button-down like he liked, the same brand he was wearing, in a deep oceany blue, and he bit his lips together, frowning into the box.

“Neil was busy, so I told him he didn't need to...supervise the shopping,” she said. “It should be the right size.”

Billy nodded, putting the lid back on, and opened the other, bigger box to see a wool coat, thick but tailored. He narrowed his eyes and put it on, and Steve whistled like a goddamn train. Billy ignored him, tugging at it and zipping up the front, and for once, dressed for the outdoors, didn’t feel like he was wearing an entire mattress tied to his chest. “...thanks,” he said, feeling his face heat, and avoiding looking up at her face by testing the size of the pockets.

“Don’t freeze to death,” Susan told him, sighing, and handed him his stocking. He pulled out Mr. T’s Candy Cups, and Nerds, and some oranges, and Starburst, and then felt something thick. He thought this better not be a fucking bag of coal, after she said she didn’t even think it was funny.

It was a pair of socks, warm and soft, and he considered them for a second before placing them in his lap, and reaching in to find a cassette of David Bowie’s Let’s Dance. He was just pulling out some Twix bars when Max dropped next to him, and he pulled his candy back towards him, narrowing his eyes at her.

“I got my own candy, dipshit,” she said, rolling her eyes, and fiddling with her new, shiny walkie-talkies. "The hat's warm."

Billy grimaced. "We'll get you the board repair kit."

"...he told you not to buy it, didn't he," she said heavily, and Billy winced, opening his mouth.

“Everybody done?” Joyce yelled, and Max opened her mouth and closed it again, gripping the walkie-talkie, but Joyce walked by and patted her shoulder, calling out, “Everybody done with presents? Okay! Go the hell to bed.” Max scuttled away to her sleeping bag, and Joyce prodded Hopper in the side, which he ignored. She cupped her hands around her mouth, shouting up at him. “Bedtime!”

“It’s morning,” Dustin said, snickering, but he covered a yawn, and Will walked over to his side of their shared sleeping bags, his arms filled with loot, and collapsed in a smiling pile.

“Fine, fine,” Hopper said, clapping his hands. “Everybody back to bed! G’night!”

Max opened her mouth, frowning at him, then sighed, and lurched tiredly to her feet, stumbling away. Steve came over and sat in her spot, throwing his arm around Billy, and sucking his ring-pop, and they sat and stared at the tree as the kids crawled back into their sleeping bags, Rudolph’s dad was terrible on the TV, and the adults all shuffled back upstairs.

“Love you,” Steve whispered.

“I heard those were invented to stop kids sucking their thumbs,” Billy whispered back, flicking Steve's hand with the ring-pop.

“It’s definitely been handy when I wanted to suck on things,” Steve said agreeably, and Billy choked, coughing, as Steve slurped away at his cherry ring-pop, looking smug.

Billy woke the next day alone in the sleeping bag, and tender where he’d rolled on his belt, and where the seams of his jeans had sanded his legs. He groaned into the soft blue-green sweater he was using as a pillow, and smelled food .

Nancy’d shown up, he found out, when he sat up like a groundhog blinking at the sun. She was on the couch with Jonathan, flipping through a different photo book in black and white. They both blinked at Billy, and then waved silently, and he waved back, looking around for Steve, and hoping Steve’s ex and her new beau didn’t try to include Billy in their conversation.

Steve was running back and forth from the kitchen, carrying plates and wearing an intent grin, and Billy watched him for a few minutes before clambering out of the sleeping bag. The others were rolled up, he noticed, and tried to zip his apart. He caught the ties in the zipper, somehow, and was trying to figure out whether he could just roll them together when Will dropped to sit next to him, eager to leverage his sleeping-bag-taming knowledge for copies of all Billy’s music.

Billy considered, aware of Nancy and Jonathan trying not to watch him repeatedly lose his battle with a squishy inanimate object, and finally agreed. “You figure this shit out and I’ll copy you the new Def Leppard,” he whispered, and Will hugged him, which was just—weird, so he waited until it was over, and walked away, trying to fix his hair by feel.

Lucas and Max showed up that afternoon, Mike was there, Billy registered vaguely, giving all the appropriate compliments to El about her bike, and Billy dozed on Steve’s shoulder in a turkey coma and let the Christmas carols float over him.

Just after he thought they’d left again, the floor pounded as Max stalked up to him and slapped the new walkie-talkie in his hand. “Everybody else has one,” she said, glaring at it, turning on her heel, and stalking off. Billy stared after her, wondering whether she honestly couldn't find someone to give it to. He'd seen Lucas', and it was twice the size.

“Ooo, I have one!” Steve said excitedly. “We can talk when you can’t get to the phone!”

Billy glanced up at him, and back down, imagining being able to call Steve when his door was padlocked from the outside, and bit his lips together. He nodded, and cleared his throat. “I, uh, yeah. I’ll...get some batteries.”

“I’ve got some,” Steve said, squirming away, then dropping beside him again to hand over an eight-pack of Energizers. “Dustin gave me some for mine.”

“...might use this thing a lot,” Billy said warningly, flicking the buttons, and Steve laughed.

“Good, I don’t wanna feel needy.”

Before everyone left, Billy got hugs from Joyce and Mrs. Henderson—he couldn’t think of her as Claudia, not when she was wearing an apron and reminded him so much of Mrs. Claus—a companionable shoulder-squeeze from Hopper, and a tense smile from Susan. El asked whether they could come back next year, explaining how Santa got lost sometimes without woodstoves, and Steve nodded seriously, agreeing to everything she said.

Jonathan shook Billy's hand like an awkward nerd, while Will tried to convince them to hang out and listen to music together, until El started questioning them all about music, and Hopper drug her away. As Jonathan, Will, El, and Hopper stumbled off in a hand-holding chain like Billy's paper-doll garland, Billy felt a tap on the shoulder, and turned to see Joyce Byers again.

"Jonathan and Will showed me the car," she said. "It looks really nice."

"They vacuumed it," Steve said, laughing and waving his hands, and Billy rolled his eyes.

"Steve fixed it so your battery will charge right, and changed your oil," he reported, and Steve laughed, grinning, then went wide-eyed as Joyce hugged them both around the necks, yanking them down even though she stood on her tiptoes.

"Thanks so much, you two," she said, sounding a little choked. "You're such good kids. You're such good kids."

Steve made a weird noise in his throat, and Billy's eyes skipped the stinging and went straight to blurry with tears, so he pulled away, clearing his throat, and made a show of lighting a cigarette.

"A-anytime," Steve said, laughing a little unnaturally. He folded his arms, unfolded them, and bit his lips, and Joyce squeezed his shoulder.

"Thank you," she said earnestly, and he nodded.

Billy threw an arm around him as Joyce walked away. Dustin glanced between Billy and Steve and saluted, laughing and shaking his head, and Nancy waved again from the car window. Steve waved back.

“We look like the parents in a Christmas special,” Billy said, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Steve, and waving at departing cars. "Like a sitcom." Steve snorted a laugh, wiping his eyes.

After they’d all gone, Billy leaned in the doorway between the kitchen and the front room, watching Steve pick up a couple pieces of wrapping paper, and sigh. He sat under the tree, holding a piece of Mrs. Henderson’s ugliest wrapping paper, covered in brown and orange angels that looked like a hollow-eyed Strawberry Shortcake. Steve stretched it flat, and bit his lips together, before crumpling it, his shoulders a little bowed.

“...you don’t think Chriatmas is over, do you?” Billy asked, wandering closer.

“What?” Steve laughed, his eyes lowered. “I mean, it’s still the 25th. I guess. Christmas until midnight.”

“Yeah, that too,” Billy agreed, coming up behind him to reach around with both arms and take the sad crumpled Christmas paper away. He tossed it behind the tree, and Steve snorted a laugh, leaning back into his arms. “But we haven’t even gotten our best present yet,” he whispered, letting his breath tickle Steve’s ear, so he shivered. “This is the part I’ve been waiting for.” Steve opened his mouth, shrugging, and Billy yanked him around so they were nose to nose. “I got the biggest present under the tree,” Billy hissed, “—and I’ve been so patient, don’t you dare tell me Christmas is over now.”

Steve grinned at him, wide and delighted, and Billy squished his face with both hands, making his grin kissable.

Having had plenty of time to plan, Billy grabbed one of the sleeping bags, unrolled it, and tossed it under the tree, towards the fire. Steve pulled him over for a deeper kiss this time, soft and exploratory, as though he didn’t know every hitch of Billy’s breath, and the way he trembled when Steve bit gently at his lower lip, and let it pull through his teeth. “Jesus god of reindeer,” Billy whispered muzzily, and Steve burst out laughing.

“What,” he said. “What?”

“You,” Billy said hoarsely, and cleared his throat, trying to remember his script. “You wanna put on, like, your Christmas songs. Or—or movies. Or something.”

“...you wanna fuck me to Rudolph?” Steve asked, looking a little weirded out, and Billy gritted his teeth, and committed, for the sake of love.

“You want your Christmas shit playing when you get presents, right.”

“...jesus,” Steve whispered, head cocked like Billy was crazy, but beaming all the same. “Uh.” He flushed, biting his lips as he narrowed his eyes at the TV and VCR, and then the tape player. “Uh, just music, maybe.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about Rudolph,” Billy grimaced, imagining the little reindeer’s nasal tones, and the nitwit misfit song. “I mean, if you want to, but I’m gonna...good thing I already know how fucking weird you are—”

“I didn’t come up with—with this Rudolph sex orgy idea,” Steve hissed back, poking him in the chest.

Billy shrugged, rubbing it. “I really don’t know what’s weirder about that than listening to, like, The Carpenters, or John Denver and the Muppets,” he said, waiting while Steve blew the dust off the record player, and frowned between The Jackson 5 Christmas Album and A Partridge Family Christmas Card. “Or those,” Billy said, making a face at little Michael Jackson, and sitting on the sleeping bag, waiting while his dick strained against the inside of his jeans.

“Just don’t think too much about it,” Steve muttered, crouching down to put on A Partridge Family with pink cheeks, and Billy waited until the speakers crackled and Mr. Partridge started singing to grab Steve around the waist.

Billy pulled his boyfriend's butt half into his lap, where he could slide his hands up Steve’s sides, lifting his sweater and shirt, and kissing the skin between his shoulder blades. Steve laughed, and leaned his head back against Billy’s shoulder for a kiss. Billy gave him one—then two—then stared at Steve’s startled grin, and sighed, brushing their lips together as the magnetic pull hauled him back in, and Steve gave a muffled laugh and a contented noise deep in his throat, closing his eyes. He tasted sweet, like the cookies he’d been eating, even sweeter than usual, and Billy groaned and shoved Steve forward again in order to push his sweater and shirt up over his shoulders, white from winter, and scattered with birthmarks. Billy kissed a few of them.

“Better keep me warm,” Steve whispered, curling up in his arms, and Billy pulled him in as tight as he could, burying his probably goofy-looking grin in Steve’s hair.

“Oh, I’ll warm you up,” he whispered, and Steve snickered, relaxed against him as Billy slid his hands around Steve's waist, and down to undo his boyfriend’s jeans. Steve groaned, shivering as Billy pulled his cock out—it was already satisfyingly hard in his hand, and Billy rubbed the edge of his thumb across it, so Steve grunted and squirmed in his lap. “...guess the Partridge Family really does it for you,” Billy whispered.

“Shut your face,” Steve mumbled, panting. “You do it for me, we could be—we could be listening to like. Bird calls, I don’t give a fuck—”

“You saying Tweety Bird gets your motor running,” Billy whispered back, and Steve elbowed him, mostly hitting sweater.

“Fuck you,” he hissed, his hips jerking so his dick bumped against Billy’s thumb again, into his hand, and Billy squeezed it, the wetness letting his thumb slide easily over the tip. “Oh jesus,” Steve whispered. “God…”

“Lay down,” Billy said, biting his shoulder gently, and Steve arched against him, groaning. “Come on, your majesty, I’m not even done unwrapping you yet.”

“...nerd,” Steve snorted, panting, but he let himself be pressed back onto the sleeping bag, his cock sliding against Billy’s hand as Billy held him down, gently, by the lower belly, tugging his jeans off. Steve bent his legs up to let Billy yank the legs off without having to move, and Billy laughed as he tugged Steve’s socks off, and tossed them away. Steve grinned up at him, his face lit by the lights on the tree, making him look a little starry.

“There,” Billy said, rubbing his free hand up Steve’s thigh. He leaned in to kiss his boyfriend’s naked dick, and Steve yelped, moaning in the back of his throat.

“What—about you,” he grunted, his voice a little rough. “You gonna raw me in your jeans?”

He sounded hungry at the thought, and Billy filed that away for later. “Nah,” he whispered, swinging a leg over so he was sitting across his boyfriend’s thighs. “Thought I’d make you watch me, for a bit,” he said, sliding two fingers in his mouth, and sucking on them.

Steve muttered “Oh, shit,” and propped himself up on his elbows.

“Now you got me in this damn...Mr. Rogers sweater,” Billy said, keeping his voice low as he drug his fingers down it, Steve’s gaze fixed on them as his dick leaked.

“Don’t talk about Mr. Rogers, gross,” he whispered, and Billy grinned, swinging his hips a little from side to side so Steve's naked thighs could feel the warmth of his ass through jeans. “Jesus,” Steve muttered, clenching his fists as Billy slid both hands around his own waist just under the edge of the sweater, lifting them up underneath against his sides, and Steve laughed a little unevenly, his eyes widening.

Billy lifted the sweater a little more, running his fingers lightly over his abs, and then his pecs as they flexed with his arms up in the damn sweater, and Steve swallowed visibly. Billy pulled the sweater off his shoulders and head, shaking his hair back, and flexed his arms as he pulled the sweater sleeves off.

Steve threw his head back laughing. “Love you,” he said, always picking the weirdest times.

“We’re boning to the Partridge Family,” Billy hissed, instantly irritated. “If this fuckery isn’t love I don’t know what is.”

“I know,” Steve said, his smile soft even as his cock dripped on his belly. “Thanks for boning me to the Partridge Family.”

“Shut the hell up, I’m stripping,” Billy growled, and Steve started laughing again, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes, and Billy swore and leaned in to kiss him, flattening him to the ground, and wiping the wetness away from his boyfriend’s eyes with his knuckles. “The fuck is wrong with you,” he muttered, and Steve snickered, sniffling. “You want me to hurry up?”

“No,” Steve laughed, swallowing a suspicious gulping sound, and Billy frowned harder. “I just like this,” Steve whispered, laughing, his eyes welling up again. “I like this Christmas.”

“Are you gonna do this every year?” Billy asked in horror, imagining his boyfriend crying through sex while puppets wailed in the background, and Steve laughed harder, wiping his face.

“You saying you’re gonna bone me under the tree every year?” he asked, and Billy felt his face heat. Steve grinned, reaching up to tuck Billy’s curls out of his face, behind his ear. “In sickness and in health?”

“Why are you so weird,” Billy groaned, rocking his hips, so Steve grunted, closing his eyes. “Yes. Yeah. Next year we’ll fuck to Frosty, can I get back to stripping now?”

“Yeah,” Steve laughed, sniffling. “I love you. Yeah.”

“Christ,” Billy muttered, wiping his boyfriend’s eyes and cheeks again, his own eyes stinging a little—probably with embarrassment, he thought, fairly sure he was gonna get a half-chub every time he heard the Partridge Family playing, for the rest of his life.

Steve was still hard, at least—which was more disconcerting than anything—so Billy sighed, and rolled his hips again, as a reset. Every time he did, his fly brushed the bottom of Steve’s dick, and he groaned, rocking his head back against the sleeping bag. He was starting to sweat, and the light of the tree made him glisten.

“Look at me,” Billy told him, and Steve folded his arms behind his head to see. Billy ran his fingers up his new blue shirt—cupping his sides like his hands were Steve’s, and then running his hands up along the buttons to undo the first one.

“Never seen you with your shirt all the way on before,” Steve whispered, his eyes fond, and Billy snorted.

“Can’t let up on the advertising campaign,” he said. “Gotta show you the goods.”

“No, you don’t,” Steve reached down to squeeze Billy’s thigh through his jeans. Billy undid another button, parting the fabric over his collarbones, and running his hands down his neck, and Steve leaned his head on one shoulder, smiling up. “I’m not gonna...forget, jesus,” he whispered. “Never gonna forget what you look like, babe.”

Billy grabbed the sweater and leaned in to lift Steve’s head into a kiss, tucking the sweater behind it as a pillow.

“God,” Steve whispered against his mouth, running his hands over Billy’s half-unbuttoned shirt.

Billy sat back upright again, while Steve groaned and grabbed at his shirt as he pulled away. Billy undid another button, letting his nails scrape along his skin as he scooped his pendant into his mouth, swaying his hips. He slid his fingers down over the remaining buttons to brush over the edge of his belt, raising his eyebrows at Steve, who laughed, panting.

“Yeah, I’m watching, loverboy.” Steve leaned back on one elbow, smiling smugly, and Billy watched the low golden light on his boyfriend’s face and hair.

Billy ran his fingers over his fly, and down in his pants, tugging his shirt tails out one by one, and swayed his hips in a slow figure-eight as Steve bucked a little under him, grinning.

“Gonna be New Years by the time you’re done, jesus,” Steve said, his gaze riveted to Billy’s hands.

“Can’t keep it up, there, pretty boy?” Billy asked, arching his back as he undid the lowest button, and then parted his shirt like a curtain and undid the one above it to show his taut belly and the trail of hair leading into his jeans.

“Not the problem,” Steve said through gritted teeth, the fingers on his free hand digging into Billy’s thighs.

Billy stopped, looking down to unbutton his cuff and roll it up a couple of times, humming carelessly as Steve squirmed under him, smacking his leg.

“Hurry up, you bastard,” he demanded, and Billy smiled, unbuttoning the other cuff.

“You gonna ask nicely?” he asked, and Steve laughed, shifting under him with a grimace. “You’re leaking like a hose connection with a bad washer.”

“Shut up,” Steve hissed. “Like you aren’t making me.”

“Maybe I should stop,” Billy said, stretching so his shirt lifted.

“Please, please, you dickhead,” Steve broke. “My legs are fucking going to sleep, and my dick’s gonna explode—”

“Thought you loved me,” Billy said, licking his lips, and leaning in so his stomach brushed Steve’s dick. Steve yelped, groaning, and bucking up into the friction. “Isn’t that what you were saying earlier? King Steve, the chosen one?”

“Love you a lot more if you let me touch,” Steve growled, laughing. As Billy sat up, Steve reached out and yanked at his belt, and Billy laughed, smacking Steve’s hand away.

“Thought you didn’t want Christmas to be over,” Billy whispered, and Steve laughed harder, his cock dripping across his stomach.

“Yeah,” he admitted, leaning back with a shaky breath. “Yeah, I don’t. Never want this to be over.” His knuckles went white as his fingers tightened on Billy’s swaying thighs.

The Partridge Family switched to Winter Wonderland, and Billy’s side was warmed by the fire. He knew the light of it gilded his hair and skin as he flexed his bare forearms, sliding a finger under the leather strap of his belt as Steve groaned.

Billy flicked it out of the belt loops, tugging it off the tongue of the buckle and slowly drawing it loose over his fly. Steve twitched under him, swallowing back a noise as Billy’s jeans brushed his cock. “You want me to fuck you?” Billy asked, undoing the buttons of his jeans one-by-one so Steve could see he was going commando, and pressing his thumb and forefinger together in a tight circle over his own dick, so Steve’s bounced untouched on his stomach.

“Holy shit,” Steve breathed, looking him over, and Billy grinned.

“Want me to do all the work,” Billy whispered, swaying his hips with the music, “—so all you have to do is lie there?”

“Anything,” Steve said. “Love you, jesus.”

Billy’s hand stuttered, and he leaned forward again, bracing himself over Steve’s chest. “Tell me,” he said. “You want me to ride you? What?”

“I want everything,” Steve said, his eyes wide and soft, and then he grinned. “I mean, we got so many leftovers to get through. Whatever we don’t do now—”

“How can you be such a romantic and such a shithead,” Billy muttered, reaching down to squeeze his boyfriend’s hand.

“Fuck me just like that,” Steve said. “Your party jeans and that shirt. You look like—you’re a wet dream, jesus.” Billy grinned, cocking his head and licking his lips, and Steve laughed shakily. “Yeah, come on, asshole,” he whispered. “Billy.”

“Yeah,” Billy said, scrounging around in the back of the TV cabinet where he’d hidden the lube, and pulling the condom out of his back pocket. He squirted some lube in his hand, and pushed Steve’s legs up to slide his hand between them, watching him squirm against the cold.

“Warm it up, dickhead,” Steve muttered, grabbing his wrist, but as soon as Billy started sliding his fingers up and down, Steve relaxed, going boneless with one leg bent up, the other sprawled to the side. His eyes went half-lidded as he grinned up in the starry rainbow lights.

Billy watched him pant in the light of the Christmas tree, and smiled, holding Steve’s hips flat to the floor with one hand, and bending to slip his mouth over his boyfriend’s cock.

“Jesus christ,” Steve grunted, shifting under Billy’s hands, and Billy hummed along with the song, knowing he could probably shove on in, but taking it slow, swirling his tongue around Steve’s dick as his fingers worked. He rubbed over the edge of Steve’s hole, over and over, until he was squirming, red-cheeked, and biting his lips together, and he finally said “Jesus, fuck me, god—”

Billy lifted his mouth off Steve’s cock with a pop. “His majesty’s getting impatient,” he said, and Steve yelled “Yes, I fucking am.” Billy laughed, leaning his head against Steve’s knee, and then kissed it, before crawling up to kiss Steve’s mouth.

“Fuck you,” Steve muttered, panting, his skin gleaming with sweat in the light of the tree. “God…” he whispered against Billy’s mouth, whining softly, and Billy grabbed the sweater and shoved it under Steve’s back, pushing his legs up so Billy could push slowly in.

“Merry Christmas,” he mumbled, and Steve started snickering, grunting as Billy’s weight pushed the air from his lungs, but pulling him in for a kiss, bent nearly double.

“God, you feel good,” Steve grunted, as Billy narrowed his eyes, checking his boyfriend’s sprawled limbs for tension before thrusting his hips. “God, yes,” Steve moaned, kissing hazily at anything of Billy's he could reach.

It wasn’t so bad, Billy decided, boning Steve Harrington under the Christmas tree, and watching the Christmas lights reflect off his eyes. Even the music wasn’t too awful—he mostly tuned it out—until Billy went too hard, rustling the nearest branch of the tree as Steve writhed beneath him, and a popcorn ball smacked right between his shoulders and bounced off Steve’s knee, and they both had to stop while they laughed themselves breathless.

“Let’s do this every year,” Steve whispered into his shoulder once they’d finished, sweaty and smiling, and Billy snorted a laugh, pulling him closer.

“...yeah, okay,” he whispered back, running his hand around his boyfriend’s ass where it was still a little sticky, and considering Round Two. “You’re worth it.”

“Good,” Steve laughed, squirming closer. “You’re worth it too. This. Anything.”

“...love you too,” Billy whispered, hugging him close.

#harringrove #Finally the pornz #Found family #Boyfriend cookies #platypan FINISHED FIC

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ruthoakenshield · 4 years

Text

The Lady in the Black Leather (Ch 21)

Catch up here [chapter 20]

Aiden x Scarlett, Graham McTavish, Reader

You, Aiden & Scarlett visit for a while, then Graham shows up with a pretty bouquet of brightly colored daisies and mums with a big sunflower in the middle of it, and a tray with two coffee cups and a brown paper bag in the other hand. He had a ‘get well’ balloon also for you, which was tied to the vase of flowers.

You giggle and thank him for them. He grins and sets the flowers and balloon down on the windowsill next to the ones from Aiden and Scarlett.

He comes and gives you a little hug and kisses your forehead. “How’s my girl doin?” he asks.

You grin, “Don’t let Rich hear you say that!” you tease.

He grins, “Well, me and Gwen laid claim to ya before Rich did, so he’ll have to just deal with it.” He says cheekily, making you giggle. “So, how are ya doin?” he asks.

You shrug. “Tired, my leg hurts, and I’m hungry.” you reply and grin when he sets a bag on the table and hands you a french vanilla cappuccino from the tray.

“Well, breakfast is here now, so at least ya won’t be hungry anymore.” He chuckles. “Don’t they have ya on pain meds?” he asks you.

“Yeah, but I told the nurse I didn’t want them till I had some breakfast in me. I’ll get them in a bit.” You tell Graham.

Grinning, you dig into the bag, seeing pastries like what Todd has delivered each morning. You look up at Graham. “Where did you get these from? They look like the ones Todd has delivered each morning at the shop!” you ask.

He grins. “I got them from the pastry shop that he gets his from. They asked why his shop was closed and then saw the note Rich left on the door this morning. They said to tell ye and Todd that they wish ye both a speedy recovery!” he says with a smile

You grin and take a bite of a strawberry scone and let out a happy little groan. “I love these ones! These and the doughnuts with the icing and the strawberry or cherry fillings! OOOooohhh they are the BEST!” you giggle.

There’s a knock at the door and a young lady is standing at the door with two big bouquets of flowers. “Excuse me Miss, but are you Harley?” she asks.

You nod. “Yes.”

She comes in and tells you, “These are for you. Where would you like them?” She asks.

Your jaw drops. One bouquet is two dozen red and pink roses with baby’s breath and purple lavender filler. The other is a bouquet of 6 yellow roses, brightly colored fuji mums and daisies that were colored brightly with food coloring.

Scarlett gets up and takes the bouquet of red and pink roses. She sets it down on the table and looks for a card. “Aaahhh! Here it is!” she says and hands you the card.

You open it up and see it’s from Richard. “For the love of my life. You mean the world to me, Sweetheart. I hope these brighten your day. I’m thinking about you & know I love you more than anything in the universe! Xoxo – Rich”

You grin and show it to Graham, Aiden & Scarlett. They all smile, and Scarlett puts the card back on the plastic stand and Graham takes the bouquet and puts it on the windowsill next to the other ones.

The delivery gal hands Scarlett the other big bouquet and then heads out to do more deliveries after you thank her for bringing them up.

Scarlett digs around in the bouquet and finds another card. She hands it to you, and you open it up to see it is from the Police Department that Alex, Todd and Jack worked for. It said, “Heard what happened, wishing you a speedy recovery! Our thoughts and prayers are with you! – Inspector Kathleen Walsh & your friends at the NYPD 19th Precinct.”

You look at Graham and Scarlett in surprise. “The police department sent me flowers?” Graham chuckles. “Apparently so Sweetheart!”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Well, that was nice!” you state.

They all nod. Graham takes the flowers and puts them on the windowsill as well. “You’re getting quite the collection, Sweetie!” Scarlett teases you.

You grin. “They’re making my room smell nice, that’s for sure!” you say, grinning.

Your doctor knocks on the door casing and then steps in. He talks with you for a bit and checks the wounds on your leg after shooing everyone out into the hall.

He asks you about all the scars on your legs and you explain they go all the way up onto your crotch. You tell him that the ones on your legs were from your last three boyfriends you had before meeting Richard. And you tell him the ones on your crotch were from the ex-boyfriend, Ben, who shot you. You ask him to make a note of you telling him that to put in your medical file. That you don’t want anyone thinking it was Richard who gave you them. You explain you never had reported the abuse from your ex boyfriends because of fear since the ex-boyfriends had all threatened you that if you told they’d go after you and your family. He nods in understanding and makes a note of it in your file.

He tells you that he doesn’t want you walking on the leg for a few days, and that you may use the crutches ONLY to get from your bed to the restroom in your room and then back to your bed for now. You nod. He asks if you need any stronger pain meds and you shake your head.

“I’m due for them when the nurse comes back with them. I told her I wanted to wait to take them till I had some breakfast in me first.” You reply.

He nods and tells you he will check in with you tomorrow morning then and tells you to have a good day.

Your friends come back in after the Doctor leaves and they have another two bouquets. You roll your eyes and giggle. “Now who are these from?” you ask.

Graham sets a small oblong flowerpot on the table with Hyacinths, tulips, daffodils and crocuses on the table in front of you. You grin and take a deep breath. “Oooohhh! Those smell wonderful!!!” you pull the card off the flower pick and read it. It’s from Captain Angel L. Figueroa Jr. & the NYPD 1st precinct and says: “Wishing you a speedy recovery, Harley! Our thoughts and prayers are with you as you recover!”

“Awwww! That’s sweet!” you say and put the card back on the flower pick.

Scarlett takes the planter and puts in on the shelf by the sink so you can smell them when people open the door to enter and exit.

The other bouquet is pink and white stargazer lilies and hot pink roses and lighter pink carnations with some greens. You look at the card and see it’s from Lee Pace. It reads: “Wishing you a speedy recovery and hope you and Phantom are doing well.”

“Oh! Those smell lovely too! It’s gonna smell like a flower shop in here!’ you giggle.

Graham and Aiden chuckle and Graham adds the flowers to your collection on the windowsill.

Scarlett looks at the time and nudges Aiden, who glances up at the clock and sees they need to get going to the studios. “We gotta get going, Harley. I gotta film some scenes this afternoon, and Scarlett’s gonna go check on the shop for you and Todd.” He tells you.

They both give you a hug and tell you they will see you later on. You wave goodbye and they head out.

The nurse comes in with your pain meds. “Are you ready for your meds, Harley?”

You nod and she gives them to you. You down them with your water and she makes a note in your chart on the hospital’s computer. Then she heads out after seeing if you needed anything.

You look at Graham and say, “Now what do we do?”

He chuckles. “Well, what would you like to do?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. Graham, can you tell me about your family? I don’t even know their names, you said your wife told you to tell me ‘welcome to the family’.” You said. “You must’ve been telling her about me.”

He chuckled. “Aye, Lass, I told her ‘bout you. How I met you, and how I was tryin’ to hook ya up with Rich. She wanted to see what ya looked like, so I sent her the pics I took.” He explained. “Didn’t want her worrying if the Papparazzi snuck photos of us when we all do stuff together.

Scarlet told me your parents died a few years ago and I mentioned it to Gwen… It was her idea, actually, to ‘adopt’ you, so to speak.” He giggled. Gwen is my wife. Our two daughters are Hope and Honor.” He tells you, “Honor was born in 2006 and Hope was born in 2012.” He says beaming with pride. “I’ll show you pics of them later.” He says. “They live in New Zealand where we have a house.” He tells you.

You look at him surprised. “I thought you were from Scotland, though?” you ask.

He chuckles. “I am, Lass, but I’ve lived all over the world. We decided to settle in New Zealand, though, after living there while we filmed The Hobbit.” He explained.

“Oh! I saw a lot of the bonus features on my Extended Edition DVD’s of the Hobbit. It looks absolutely wonderful! It’s on my bucket list of places to visit someday.” You tell him with a big grin.

He chuckles, “Well, Lass. I’m sure Rich wouldn’t bat an eye taking you to come visit us there. He loved it there as much as we did and considered buying property there, but he’s so busy with filming and such, he said he’d rather wait till he got older and started to slow down with work.” Graham tells you.

“Graham?” you ask.

“Yeah, Sweetheart?” he replies.

“I want to do something special for Rich, but I don’t know what to do. He doesn’t like to talk about himself, so trying to find out what kinds of things he likes, I’m finding is rather difficult. Do you think you could help me?” you ask. “I know he likes chocolate ice cream, wine, legos and reading. But that’s about it.”

Graham chuckles. “Yeah, he is an introvert and shy, so whenever people ask him personal questions, he tends to shy away from them.” He tells you. He gives you a few ideas of things Richard would like and suggests to just be observant, “You’ll learn more about him from just observing and listening, than from anything else, Lass.

He’s moody and grumpy sometimes, but don’t let it get to you. It’s just how he gets into characters he portrays. He’ll often take them home with him and struggle to let ‘em go. Maybe having you around will help ‘im with that, Lass.” Graham tells you.

“There’s so much I don’t know about the film industry.” You sigh. “I’ve never seen how one is made from start to finish. He asked if I’d come with him when he travels for the promotional stuff for the film too. I’ve never traveled very much tho. He said something about finding out the details for taking Phantom with too, so I’d feel safe.” You tell Graham.

Graham grins. “It would be nice for him to have ye with, Lass. I know I’d enjoy having you with us. My wife and kids don’t travel much with me. It’s such a long flight from New Zealand to the US and Europe that they don’t make it very often to join me for premieres. It’s a whirlwind of a time, and is exhausting, but it’s a lot of fun too. You get to meet a lot of people and just sit back, relax and talk about the film with interviewers. If you do come with, we’ll be sure ya are well taken care of.” He tells you.

You giggle and grin. “Graham, did you get my dress from Aiden’s? Don’t let Rich know anything about the dress. I don’t want him to see it or see me in it until he picks me up for the event! I want it to be a surprise!” you tell him.

He gives you a positively evil smirk and says, “Your wish, is my command, Sweetie. And yes, I picked it up from Aiden’s last night before I headed home. It’s in my closet in my bedroom, which he won’t dare go into. Scarlett said I should hang it up so it wouldn’t crease the velvet.” He tells you. “I’ll take ye to go have it altered to fit ye when they let ye outta here.” He says.

You grin and happily clap your hands. “I can’t wait!

Graham chuckles and rubs his beard, thinking.

“Graham, do you ever do Skype or Zoom or FaceTime your family? You’re always saying I remind you of your daughters.” You tell him. “I thought it would be nice to say hi to them and talk with them and your wife, if it was okay with you. I don’t know how the time differences work between there and here though.” You mention to him.

He glances up at the clock and you can see him working out the time differences in his head.

“Well, Lass, it’s about 1am there right now. Well, if ya can wait till around 3 or 4 pm our time this afternoon which should be able to give them time to get up and get ready, then we can give them a zoom call, we’ll say “Hi” and I’ll introduce ya to them!” he tells you.

“For now, though, what do ya want to do?” he asks. Phantom comes over and sniffs all the flowers on the windowsill and ‘wuffs’ at them.

“What? Don’t you like all my pretty flowers, Phantom?” you ask. He chuffs and comes walking over to your bedside. Graham smiles and gives him a good scratch. “Do ya need to go outside, Boy?” he asks.

Phantom gives a short yip and Graham stands up. “I’ll go take him out to do his business, then we’ll be right back, Sweetheart. Did someone take him out last night or this morning?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe the officer had one of the nurses take Phantom out. You’d have to ask him.” You tell Graham.

He nods and clips the leash on Phantom after he adjusts the service jacket. They head out and Graham stops to talk with the officer. The officer tells him he had one of the nurses take Phantom outside when he needed to go to the bathroom, and she brought him right back up. He did say they played with the rope toy for a bit having a tug of war.

Graham chuckled. “All right. Well, we’ll be back in a bit.” He tells the officer.

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hisan-miren · 3 years

Text

Redacted File

The Love Letter Pt 2

The next morning, Mina was almost bouncing she was so excited. She threw on a dress, inhaled her breakfast, completely ignoring the startled stares of her parents, and all but dashed over to Raios' house to pick him up for school. She rocked on her feet, looking over the entryway of the large, traditional-styled mansion as she waited for her best friend to be ready. His sister came out first- already an adult, she was going to work at the café she'd recently opened.

“Oh! Mina! Waiting for my brother?” the girl asked.

“Yup!”

“Geez, what's that idiot doing making you wait? Rather, he should be the one going to pick you up. You know you can tell him off, right? You can do so much better than him, I promise you.”

Mina just gave a nervous laugh.

“It's fine, I woke up early this morning, so I was ready a bit sooner than usual is all. Plus, my place is in the opposite direction from school. It makes way more sense for me to come to him.” That, and she was secretly afraid that he found their morning commute a bother. What if she waited for him and he never came because he didn't want her around? She wasn't sure she'd be able to stand it. She'd been all confident when she was going off about it to her friends the other day, but in reality she was far more insecure about her crush on him than she let on. She desperately wanted him to be in love with her as much as she was with him because then that'd mean that she could marry her best friend and be together with him forever!

The door slid open again and a ln angry-faced teenager emerged, glaring at the both of them.

“You better not be harassing her, aneki.”

“GAH!” Raios' sister gripped her heart and fell over like she'd been shot. “You see that?! You see that, Mina?!?! ‘Aneki'! What happened to the cute little brother who called me ‘onee-chama'?!”

“HE NEVER EXISTED YOU NUTCASE!” Raios snapped. “SERIOUSLY, ARE YOU FREAKING MENTAL?!” Raios scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Come on, Mina, we're gonna be late.”

Mina's heart all but leapt out of her chest when he grabbed her hand and dragged her away. She silently prayed he wouldn't notice he was still holding it until they reached the classroom.

Raios' sister stared after them, shaking her head.

“They need to just get married already…”

Raios ended up letting go halfway, but that was alright. The fact that he'd reached for Mina at all made her giddy. She almost felt a little bad for the turmoil her plan was about to inflict on him, but she told herself that it was all for the greater good. The two walked to school talking about trivial things like how Raios was doing with hunting sea birds and the oysters Mina had gone diving for the previous day. These were the times when she generally saw him the most relaxed. That perpetual furrow between his brows was practically nonexistent, and he'd even smile and laugh if she told her stories right. Arceus, that laugh was to die for. She actually resented the idea of arriving at school because it meant that their time alone together would end. As soon as another kid would greet them, Raios would go back to scowling. A part of Mina kinda hoped it was because he enjoyed their time alone as much as she did, but she knew that was wishful thinking.

Mina sighed as she settled into her desk and took a deep breath to prepare for what she was about to do.

She started putting her books away when she felt her hand brush the envelope, and it took everything in her being not to start grinning.

“Oh? What's this?” she inwardly cringed at how stiff her acting had sounded, but Raios hadn't seemed to notice.

“What's what?” he asked as she pulled the envelope out to ‘inspect it’.

“I dunno,” Mina replied, her voice sounding oddly monotone. She coughed to try and correct herself as Raios was clearly about to catch on now that he was paying attention. “It looks like a letter.” She flipped it over and pretended to inspect it, but Raios snatched it out of her hands. She nearly beamed. She hadn't expected it to go this well, but she fumbled a bit when she realized she should have gotten angry. “H-Hey! Th-That's mine!” Mina struggled to scrounge up even a fraction of Raios' usual angry façade. She commended herself for managing any at all considering how overjoyed she was. Raios looked the envelope over and scowled at it like it had personally burned down his house. And was he biting the inside of his lip? He probably knew what it was supposed to be.

“I can tell you right now that it's not anything worth your time,” he spat, but he still handed it back to her and sat down, clearly in one of the foulest moods she'd ever seen. Given his expression, she had fully expected him to tear it to pieces. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to respond if he had, but the fact that he didn't and even handed it back to her spoke to some level of maturity she hadn't expected from him. She looked back down at the envelope, more than a little shocked, and wondered, briefly, if maybe she had gone too far. She had wanted to make him jealous, but she hadn't wanted to hurt him, and he seemed like he may be genuinely upset. He did have other feelings besides anger. She was well aware of that. In fact, she probably knew that better than anyone else on the island. He just had a tendency to hide those feelings behind anger because it was the only way he knew how to express himself.

Mina opened the envelope, trying not to watch Raios out of the corner of her eye because she knew he’d be looking at her, and pretended to read it over. Turne out she didn't need to look at Raios to see how he was reacting. She could practically feel the rage emanating off him, and everyone else in the classroom was looking at him like he was a live bomb. Maybe this had been a really bad idea. After she'd stared at the letter for a sufficient amount of time, she tried to calmly fold it and put it away.

“So?” She looked over at the boy next to her who was now looking at her like he was about to chuck his desk out the window.

“I-It was a love letter...” She froze a bit at his reaction. She'd never seen him so genuinely angry in all her life.

“From who?” he ground out.

“A s-secret admirer. H-He wants to meet me by the docks in two days to talk.” Mina gulped.

“And?”

“A-And?” Mina quivered a bit, afraid of the monster she'd created. He was waaaaay more angry than she'd expected.

“What are you going to do?”

“I… I'm going to think about it… I don't know yet.”

Raios growled and turned away in a huff. She thought she heard him grumble something like ‘shouldn't it be obvious to turn him down?’ but wouldn't that normally be something he’d say pretty clearly? Right?

Raios was fidgety all throughout school. Who the hell had the gall to ask out Mina. It wasn't like she wasn't nice or pretty or smart. She was all of those things and more, so it wasn't unreasonable for someone to fall in love with her, but he didn't want to think that someone else could possibly see how valuable she was besides could possibly have the nerve to try and sweep her out from under him. It was a pretty well-known fact, at least in his opinion, that he loved Mina. The fact that there was now someone else he had to compete with only stirred up unwanted feelings of jealousy. He thought he'd had a bit more time to get himself together. He was really trying not to be so angry all the time, but that only ever seemed to be effective around Mina. No one wanted to date a guy who spent his whole life acting like he'd stepped on a Lego, so he'd been trying- really trying- to get his act together, but now he felt like he'd run out of time. It took every fiber of self-control not to go storming up to any of the other boys in class at every break and accost them of trying to court his Mina. Firstly because she wasn't actually his, and secondly because he definitely didn't want Mina to see how bad he was losing it. No, he waited until after school to let himself freak out.

“Raios,” Mina called, “let's walk home together!” She waved and smiled at him in a way that was so inviting he almost couldn't resist.

“Sorry, I've got something to do.” He immediately regretted saying that when a crestfallen look came over her. Hey, he was equally as disappointed, okay?! But finding out who his rival was was infinitely more important. “I'll see you tomorrow.” He refused to look back at her as he trotted of to his first destination because he knew he'd cave as soon as he looked at her.

Mina looked after him and melted to the ground.

“Hey, you knew this would happen,” Chise chided, looking down at her friend who looked like she wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

“I know… I know but-!” Mina sniffed as she picked herself up off the ground. “AHHHH! THE MOOD THIS MORNING WAS SO GOOD!! WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?!”

“You decided to trick your future-husband into asking you out in the most convoluted way possible,” Chise answered.

“I want to skip to being married so badly!!”

Mina reluctantly walked home with Chise and Yuri, looking like a wilted flower the entire way.

“Y'know, if we didn't know any better, we'd think you hate walking home with us,” Chise chided.

“Sorry,” Mina replied, sounding very depressed, “it's not that I don't love you two, I just really enjoy when I can spend time with him. He gets surprisingly talkative when he's talking about kyuudo, and it's so cute-"

“Okay, we definitely don't need to hear you gush about how cute you think our chief's son is. Seriously, Raios is the most abrasive person on the whole island. Maybe in the whole world! I seriously have no idea how you not only put up with him but are in love with him.”

“I’m so lucky you two don’t see how much of a catch he is…”

“He’s from the most important family on the island and is set to be the next chief as long as he doesn’t blow anything up or kill anyone. It’s not that he’s not a catch, it’s just that his attitude is terrible.”

“I can live with that.”

“How?!”

“Because he’s amazing!”

Chise and Yuri groaned and shook their heads, a hand covering their faces.

“Please, dear Arceus, let these two idiots get together soon…” Chise groaned.

“I can’t take much more of this,” Yuri followed.

#Redacted File

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thewildwaffle · 5 years

Text

Abduction - Chapter 27

Would you look at that? Got it posted on time! Thanks for the motivation everyone! especially @cyberstrikebeast - you don’t need to hunt me down, we good! :D I’m not sure if I’ll get another chapter out before the new year, I will for sure be writing in it since I’m taking time off work, but we’ll see how it goes!

First Chapter Previous Next

“For the sake of sanity, ”Simmo hissed, “would you hurry it up!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mike whispered back, “am I taking too long? Would you like to do this instead?”

Simmo sighed and clicked her mandibles faintly.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Mike grumbled under his breath as he turned back to the task at hand.

The task was, to be honest, one that 7-year-old Mike would have absolutely loved. They needed to find where Jeb was being held. To do that, they needed a computer that could grant them access to confidential information. To get to a computer that had the right authorization, they needed to break into an information control room. The ship was currently in what Mike referred to as “night mode,” so the control room would be empty. However, that didn’t mean it was easy to get to. Hence the high security in the corridor.

And what a fun security system it was too! Obviously, it must seem impossibly daunting to most- otherwise, the Burnti would never have installed it, but to Mike, it was straight out of his childhood games where he’d imagine he was a secret agent and had to infiltrate the bad guys’ lair. There were lasers to avoid and everything. He could see them, dimly, but they were definitely there. When they’d arrived, he’d had to stop Simmo from walking right into them. She stayed behind as he carefully wove under, over, and around the beams of light, quietly humming the Mission Impossible theme song, much to Simmo’s annoyance.

Currently, he was standing in front of the gate that blocked the hall. He’d climbed up to where it looked like there was a locking mechanism. No luck there. He was stumped for a moment until he noticed the small colored pins inset along the wall. He picked at them, poked at them, twisted, pulled. It was clear they were mechanized. If he tried hard enough, they probably could be moved by hand.

“Do you know if there’s some sort of pattern or whatever for these pins? Like, do I need to match up the blues, or…” He trailed off. He forgot she wouldn’t be much help with this. Simmo, and apparently all Montauk are colorblind. Seeing in color was something only a handful of species could do, or at least, only a handful of species in the Galactic Confederation. Maybe more could see color in the Burnti Empire. That might explain why there’s some sort of color-coding something on this stupid gate.

It took a bit, but eventually, he was able to figure out how the pins were supposed to move when the locks were engaged or disengaged. Moving the first pin out was hard - they were so small! Thankfully, due to the fact that he hadn’t had access to any clippers or files, his nails had grown long enough to pick out the pins so he could work them along their grooves and out of the way. Once he moved a few, it became easier to move the rest.

He grabbed one of the horizontal bars and pulled. It budged, but just barely. He tried again. It rose maybe two inches. Dang, this was heavier than it looked. It didn’t help either that he didn’t have much room to lift - there were two lasers he had to avoid right behind him. Mike turned around and leaned against the gate, trying to figure out the best move.

“Don’t look at me,” Simmo grumbled. “Even if there weren’t all these light sensors, I wouldn’t be much help lifting that thing. Why do you think I brought you along?”

Mike turned back to the gate. “And here I thought it was for my winning personality,” he sighed. He widened his stance and carefully squatted down to the level of the bar he needed. He’d taken a weight-lifting class once in school. He’d been pretty good at it then, and he did his best to keep good form- not that he had much choice. One wrong move and he’d set off the sensors. He grabbed the bar, locked his elbows and lifted with his legs.

Oh boy. If they got out of this, he was going to hit the gym, get back in shape!

The gate lifted enough that he could shuffle his knee under it and give his arms a break. He lifted again and repeated with his shoulders. He carefully stepped over a beam of light on the other side to try to give himself a better stance as he lowered the gate back down. The angle was a bit awkward and it slipped halfway down and slammed loudly against the floor.

Both Mike and Simmo winced involuntarily. Simmo glanced down the hall they had come before turning back to glare at Mike.

He sighed and pretended to brush it off by continuing the rest of the way over the lasers. He was glad Simmo couldn’t see his hands or legs shake, or hear how fast his heart was beating.

He was able to maneuver the rest of the way without incident. A little stumbling, and a lot of shaking, sure, but he made it.

He let himself take a bit of a breather at the other end, shaking his legs so they’d stop feeling like jelly. “Wow,” he muttered to himself. “Always wanted to do that. Always thought it’d be more fun. Life and death situations seem to suck the fun out of everything.”

He entered the code on the panel like Simmo showed him. The laser light show sensors turned off. Mike’s mind was starting to wander as he thought of what the differences there must be between his and Simmo’s - and whoever designed these things, eyes. Why could he see the beams that were supposed to be invisible? Was it with the cones or rods in the eyes? Was it because of how the brain processed the light? He didn’t get very far in thinking though. A loud clang nearly made him jump out of his skin. The gate was raising. That was the loudest gate he’d ever heard. Why did everything always so loud when you were trying to be quiet? After getting over his initial scare, he cringed as it continued its way up loudly. He really hoped no one else was nearby. They would get caught all because of a stupid gate that desperately needed some WD40. Or whatever the Burnti used.

Simmo quickly made her way over and entered the command to restart the security protocols. Mike wasn’t keen on the idea of having the dang gate move around again, but Simmo assured him it was necessary to maintain their cover while they were in the control room. Thankfully, the mechanism that moved the gate was a lot quieter going down than it was going up.

The control room itself was not exactly what Mike had been expecting. As soon as they opened the door, he anticipated seeing a few cramped desks or tables covered with computers and monitors, star maps, electrical displays, the works. Instead, it was a rather spacious room with large decorative tapestries with several inlets and nooks along the walls. In the middle of the room was an impressively large, round computer console. A few steps away was a set of shelves storing everything from datapads, books, what looked like scrolls, and cylinder can things of various sizes and colors.

“So,” Mike drew out the word as he walked in and looked around and up. This place had a vaulted ceiling? On a spaceship? Classy. “Is this like some sort of library, or…?”

“A what?” Simmo marched immediately towards the computer console. She opened up the holographic display and began entering information.

“You know, a library,” Mike circled the room, checking out the inlets and tapestries. “A place where people keep lots of books and movies and old magazines or whatever. You can read there, or study, or research things?”

Simmo didn’t answer. She was now moving through the readouts on the display and scrolling through what didn’t seem important. Mike ran a hand over one of the tapestries. It swayed with his touch. Behind it, there was a small nook tucked away. Nice. He grabbed the tapestry again to steady it. It was huge - it hung all the way from the ceiling to the floor, and it was beautiful. He wasn’t sure the shapes on it meant anything, they were a little abstract and there were symbols he couldn’t read, but it was beautiful nonetheless. He stared at it a while longer, admiring the handiwork and skill that had gone into its creation before walked back to where Simmo was still looking up where Jeb was being held.

“Any luck?”

“He was put in the brig two levels up from us and in the rear of the ship.”

“Okay. Great! That was fast,” Mike nodded and headed toward the door. “Let’s go get him, let’s… Simmo?”

Simmo didn’t move from her spot. Her antenna flicked slightly, but she kept searching the hologram.

“Uh, Simmo, we’re on a bit of a time crunch here, let’s get a move on.”

“And how do you plan on getting out of here without a ship?”

Mike stopped. “I thought we’re taking yours.” He paused for a moment, waiting for a response. Simmo just continued swiping and searching the computer. “Do you… not know where yours is?”

“It’s been missing for about a partec now. It was supposed to be moved to bay 9 after it was done with some repairs, but it never showed up. Rozar told me to not worry about it, that the repairs were probably just taking longer than expected. Thing is, he never checked into it further. Every time I try to do so myself, I never have clearance.”

Mike’s stomach dropped. That didn’t sound good. They had to find the Junk Lego, it had to be somewhere.

He stepped over to Simmo to help her look. He couldn’t really read many of the symbols on the display but moving felt like something he could do. He needed something to do, needed some way to help. Before he could get far, however, he heard the loud gate outside the corridor being raised again.

“Simmo, someone’s coming! We know where they’re keeping Jeb, let’s get out of here! We’ll figure out where your ship is later.”

But Simmo didn’t move from her spot. Files and reports continued coming up and she kept sifting through each one at incredible speed. Mike stepped closer to her, sizing up how best to grab her and pull her along in a way that wouldn’t end up with him getting cut up by her sharp hands. Suddenly, the screen froze. Mike glanced at the topmost file on display. He still couldn’t read it, and for several tense moments, Simmo couldn’t stop reading it.

“Simmo,” Mike ground out. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and all this standing around business was beginning to feel torturous. They had to hide!

“My ship,” Simmo whispered without taking her eyes off the display. “It’s gone.”

The loud clanging noises of the gate stopped. Shoot. Mike looked back at Simmo. She must have heard it, even with the control room door being closed. She was still fixated on the screen.

“Simmo!” Mike hissed through his teeth. The voices were right outside the door now, muffled and talking quietly, but getting closer.

Mike slapped at the screen’s controls, shutting it down and all but tackled Simmo and dragged her behind the tapestry. Just in time too - the tapestry was still moving and swaying a bit when the door slid open. Thankfully, the new arrivals were too deep in their conversation to notice. Mike didn’t dare look around to see who it was, but he could swear he recognized the voice of one of the speakers.

“This is not what my people were told,” a silvery voice entered the room. “We’ve waited long enough. The Burnti aren’t the only ones with whom we can make deals.”

“We’ll have the truminium soon now that the Galactic Confederation out of our way.”

Mike shrunk back farther. He knew that second voice. Commander Rozar had one of those very distinct voices.

“That’s been partecs now. You’ve sure been taking your time since,” the silvery voice countered. “Having too much time with your galactic streamings about your little prizes, perhaps?”

Mike tentatively inched to the edge to get a look, being careful to not be seen. Sure enough, there was that grand, feathered sloth jerk himself, talking to an alien Mike had never seen before. She looked very catlike. Larger than a booka, but larger and with a much longer torso with thick spotted gray fur and long antenna-like whiskers all over her body. She was standing on her hind legs, or maybe standing was too generous a term. It was more like she was balancing on her back legs. It’s long, thick tail helped to keep her balanced.

Mike ducked back behind the tapestry. ”What ith that?” he lisped to try to avoid being overheard.

Simmo leaned over to peer around the corner. “Priso. They’re not with the Burnti. They’re from some coalition near the Green Mallak nebula.” “Ok. That doesthn’t help. I have no idea what any of that ith.”

Simmo made some sort of gesture that Mike had to assume was Montauk sign language for ‘shut up.’

Rozar and the priso hadn’t yet noticed they weren’t alone. The priso had said something which caused Rozar to flatten the feathers at the back of his head cooly. “If you’re going to be keeping up with your delightful attitude, you can always spend another cycle or two in a cell.”

The priso shot him an icy glare. “Your diplomacy leaves much to be desired.”

“And what, do tell, are you going to do about it? Complain about me to your superiors? I’m sure they’d applaud the lengths I’ve gone to not outright strangle you.” The priso’s fur ruffled. “Is that a threat?”

“No,” Rozar said calmly, “a statement. Though I’m sure many of your superiors wouldn’t mind if it were. I’m surprised you don’t hear more of them.”

The priso’s ears went flat against her skull, the same with its whisker-like antenna. She bared her teeth and let out a low growl.

“Oh do calm down, Sitran my dear,” Rozar sighed. “That’s what got you in trouble before.” He turned to the computer console and pulled up the display. Mike tensed. He hoped that whatever Simmo had been looking at before wasn’t still there, or if it was, it wouldn’t tip Rozar off that something was wrong. Thankfully, the display had reset itself when they closed it down in their rush.

“Ah, here we are,” Rozar looks closely at the display before turning toward a set of shelves. Picking up a datapad, he activated the display and handed it to the angry priso. “Perhaps this will help allay some ill will. This datapad should include the pertinent communications we’ve had with Earth. Or at least with the governments that have been expressing an interest.”

Sitran took it and began scrolling through with a paw. Her ears came forward and the offended expression on her face melted away into a mix of curiosity and wonder. “These are just the ones that...” she continued to scroll. “How many governments does Earth have?!”

Rozar stepped back toward the main computer console chuckling lightly. “My understanding is that humans just wandered around their planet. When they got too far from each other, they started doing their own things, made their own cultures, formed new languages, and even their widespread appearances changed in some cases to adapt to new environments. In short, there are enough for everyone to share.”

Mike felt a mix of confusion, alarm, and anger. He wished he could just step out there and wipe that smug look right off Rozar’s face. Like he knew anything important about humans! What was that jerk planning?

Rozar,still very much unaware of Mike and Simmo’s presence, was very much enjoying showing off his human-related knowledge.

“There’s a file with everything you need near the top. Several files actually. I’d recommend reviewing the health and safety files thoroughly. There are things you wouldn’t think would pose a health hazard. You wouldn’t want to get something in your paw broken during a customary human hand greeting.”

Simmo leaned into Mike’s ear, “Please tell me that’s not a real thing.”

Mike turned back to her and thought for a moment. “Uh, handshake? I think he’s talking about handshake-th. That’th tho dumb. They don’t hurt”

Simmo didn’t look comforted in the slightest.

The priso was still looking through the files, fascinated. Her wide eyes were darting across the screen. “I thought most of this was just rumor. Humans sure don’t mess around, do they?”

“Oh no. They certainly do,” Rozar corrected. “That’s part of the problem with working with them. But I imagine that if the Galactic Confederation has been successful at integrating them, then it’s obviously manageable. The rewards vastly outweigh the risks, as you can see in the next file.”

Simmo leaned into Mike’s ear again. “I want a copy of that datapad.”

Mike pushed her face away from his and peeked back out.

“You’ll want to read through the behavioral files as well,” Rozar had now moved over near Sitran and was pointing out the folder in question. “We’ve tried to log as much information as extensively as we can, but it’s very much an ongoing endeavor. Our own humans have been exceptionally-”

The door slid open again. Mike jumped back a bit out of habit to avoid detection. He didn’t really need to, the new arrivals, a pair of yellow guards immediately rushed in and saluted Rozar.

“Commander,” the shorter of the pair rushed, she sounded like she was out of breath, “We have apprehended a ship, sir.”

“The escaped prisoners?”

“No sir, a Galactic Confederation ship.” That got Rozar’s full attention.

Rozar ignored a quirked look from Sitran. “Come again? A Galactic Confederation ship?”

“Yes sir, we were in pursuit of the escaped prisoners and they came out of nowhere sir. By the time we had them, the prisoners had gone to hyperspeed.” “A diversion perhaps?” Sitran mused.

“Quite possible. Two of the three missing prisoners were Confederation officers, I believe.” Rozar’s tail swayed dramatically from side to side, red and purple feathers brushed lightly on the floor. “They helped them get away and let themselves be captured. We’ll know for sure after we’ve interrogated them. And then we’ll make an example of them for the rest of the meddlesome Confederation fools.”

The guards suddenly looked rather sheepish. “Ah, yes, about that,” the second, taller guard started. Rozar snapped his head towards him, which only disconcerted the guard more. “Their ship is still in docking bay 4, but they themselves… aren’t.”

Rozar stared at the pair of them silently for what seemed like forever. Mike leaned out a bit more from behind the tapestry.

“They aren’t… what?” Rozar nearly spat.

The guards shifted uncomfortably. “They… aren’t on their ship anymore. Ah, a few moments after the air seal locks disengaged, three of them rushed the doors and were able to break through the ranks. They, ah, well they are now loose aboard the Arum Bloom, sir.”

Silence.

“They... broke the ranks?”

“Ah, yes… sir. The guards were not prepared for them to leave their ship like that, or leave willingly at all. Several have had to be taken to the infirmary. Two granims have serious concussions and are in critical condi-.”

“How many?”

“Uh, sir?”

“How many Galactic Confederation soldiers are now running amok on my ship?”

The first guard paused nervously. The second piped up, “From the reports we’ve received, there are three, sir.”

Rozar stepped away from the computer console and began pacing slowly, sharp claws clacking against his jaw. Mike slipped a bit back behind his hiding spot as Rozar walked by. The Burnti Fleet Commander had his eyes closed, sure, but he still felt dangerous. Mike could feel the anger and tension building up. He was pretty sure everyone in the room could. Even Simmo, who had barely moved from her hiding spot at all, scooted almost imperceptibly closer to Mike’s side.

“Three.” Rozar sighed deeply. “Three soldiers were able to ‘break your ranks,’ injure several guards, and avoid capture?” Rozar stopped in front of the guards, his feathers puffed out a bit as he arched his neck to look down at the guards. “Please illuminate to me how, by all that is bright and shining, three soldiers were able to, thus far, elude you all.”

Mike did not envy the guards’ position. He knew it was silly, they were Burnti- his captors- but part of him even felt a little bad for them.

One of them, the second one, managed to gather a bit more courage and straighten up. “Two of them were human sir.”

Mike gasped. Simmo glowered at him.

No one must have heard, thankfully, because the guard continued, “We had scanned their ship as we brought them aboard, but something was interfering with the scan. Before we could completely set up for boarding protocols, two humans and a booka attacked and got away.”

“Well, Commander,” Sitran drawled out dramatically, “It seems you certainly are busy. I can make sure my superiors take this,” he closed the display of the datapad, “as a gift of good faith for the truminium trade, shall I?”

Rozar made a sound that was a mix between a grunt and a growl.

Sitran walked toward the door. The two guards hesitated, unsure if they should try to stop her or not.

“I’ll just see myself out then,” Sitran stepped around them and toward the door, calling back smugly, “Don’t worry, I remember where my ship is, unless of course it’s been moved or stolen in all the commotion lately.”

Mike ducked back to hiding as Rozar stormed by. He was definitely growling now. After a moment, he heard the blips and hums of the computer console as he pulled up the report readouts the guards had brought him. More reports were sent in as the search for the intruders went on.

Simmo quietly thunked her head against the wall. “They are never going to leave. We need to get out of here,” she hissed under her breath.

“There are humans,” Mike whispered back. “They’ve probably come to rescue us!”

“Two humans. Two humans came. Oh, and a booka. Great.” Simmo started to roll her eyes but stopped herself once she realized what she was doing. “Against everyone else aboard the Arum Bloom? They’re idiots for coming at all.”

Mike sighed and leaned to spy on what the other occupants in the room were doing, but before he could, Simmo grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.

“Now look here you little monster,” her face was right in Mike’s again, “don’t you go getting any stupid ideas. We’re getting out of here as soon as we can. I agreed to take you, Wenona, and for some reason, Jebannuck, but I draw the line there. We are not risking our plans to save more humans on a doomed mission.”

Mike smiled. “Aw, Simmo, you said our plan. Like we’re a team,” he teased. Simmo hissed quietly and pushed him back. It’d been a soft push, sure, but as Mike stepped back from it, he tripped over his other foot and stumbled back, landing on his butt past the tapestry.

He froze. He felt like he could feel every. Single. Heartbeat.

Frewan.

He turned his head to the middle of the room. Maybe Rozar hadn’t seen. Maybe he’d had his back turned and didn’t notice.

Yeah, no such luck.

Rozar stared back at him, surprise coloring his wide golden eyes.

After a few tense heartbeats, the two guards finally snapped out of their shock and pulled their blasters, leveling them right at Mike.

Before any of them could react further, the control room door opened again. A huge hairy mass raced towards Mike. Booming barks felt like they were shaking the entire room.

“No one shoot!” a familiar voice commanded. “Put your weapons down!”

Mike had his hands full of massive, hairy, very excited dog. By the time he was able to sit back up and wipe the slobber off his face, Wenona had disarmed the guards and was handing their weapons to Jebannuck. She kept her blaster pointed directly at Rozar, but carefully, her eyes wandered to where Mike was trying to settle down Carson.

“Oh, Mike,” her voice bounced cheerily, “I’m glad you’re still alive. Because I’m about ready to kill you.” She dropped the smile. “Where have you been?!”

“Uh,” Mike stood back up, “with Simmo.” He motioned for her to step out from behind the tapestry. She was hesitant, but as soon as Mike had acknowledged her, Carson started sniffing. Then growling. Mike stroked the dog’s head. “It’s ok boy, she’s a friend.” Which earned a simultaneous scoff from Simmo and a quiet “Well…” from Jebannuck.

Simmo cautiously took a step out from behind the tapestry. Carson sniffed eagerly at her while Mike held his collar.

“What is that thing?!”

“That’s Carson,” Mike scratched the dog’s ears. “He’s our unofficial pet until we can get him home to his real owners back on Earth.”

Simmo’s antenna were flat against her head and her mandibles clicked quietly, but she didn’t stop the canine and instead stood stiffly, waiting for it to be over. When Carson was done, he huffed loudly and stood resolutely between Simmo and Mike.

“Simmo,” Rozar’s voice broke the tense silence, “I assume I’m to hold you responsible for at least most of this mess.”

“Quite likely.”

Rozar looked like he was trying to kill Simmo just by glaring at her. He looked like he might say more, but Jebannuck spoke first. “Simmo, are you the one who opened the cells?”

Simmo tilted her head stiffly. “Yeah, whatever. You’re welcome.”

Jebannuck stared at her. “You opened the entire cell block. There were more than just prisoners in there. You almost got me killed.”

“If I’d known it was your cell block, believe me, I would have found another distraction.”

Mike waved them both down. “Okay, fine, it’s fine. I mean, now we don’t need to break Jebannuck out.” Simmo made a long grunting noise and looked away. Mike looked at her, but shook his head and chose to ignore whatever she meant by that. They were together now, and they had to act quickly. “Simmo, you said something earlier about your ship?”

Simmo looked to Rozar who gave the smallest hint of a grin.

“It’s gone.” Simmo clenched her sharp claws. Mike, Jeb, and Wenona glanced at each other. Simmo only had eyes for Rozar Silence. Finally, Wenona, still aiming a blaster at his chest, took a warning step closer.

Rozar sighed. “The parts were useful. Plus,” he sneered, “we didn’t want you getting any bright ideas. Apparently, I was right to be concerned.”

“So we steal another ship. We get out of here,” Wenona said matter-of-factly.

Jebannuck shook his head. “That may be impossible. They’ll have increased guard duty since the last prisoners did that.” “We can take them, we have the blasters.”

“We don’t need to.” Mike jumped in. “There’s a ship, a Galactic Confederation ship.” He nodded at Rozar. “I overheard them earlier.”

“Yeah,” Simmo scoffed, “with its crew now wandering somewhere on the ship.”

Rozar chuckled. Wenona readjusted her aim on him that had been slipping during the conversation. “So what will you do now? Will you steal their ship and save yourselves, or will you get yourselves captured by trying to find them?”

“Shut up, Rozar, no one asked you.” Wenona gave him her iconic glare.

“Shoot him,” Simmo growled. “We don’t need him overhearing our plans so he can stop us once we leave.”

“And give the Burnti a reason to go to war against the Galactic Confederation?” Jebannuck countered. “He’s not just some guard, he’s a fleet commander, and we wouldn’t be doing it in self-defense!”

Wenona sighed and looked back at Jeb. “We can’t just leave him either.”

Rozar used the momentary distraction and dove behind the computer console. Wenona shot a blast which barely missed him as he went, brushing over the feather tips of his tail. Carson barked wildly, pulling Mike who was still holding his collar with him a few steps before Mike could regain footing.

The entire control room erupted with noise and no small amount of panic. The guards, even without weapons, rushed them in order to protect their commander. Wenona swore and tried to move to get another shot at Rozar, but her limp slowed her down. Jeb was able to shoot one of the guards, but the other crashed into Wenona and both of them fell to the floor.

Carson was still barking wildly but was now trying to pull Mike along to defend Wenona. He let go of the dog’s collar and yelled to Jeb to throw him one of the spare blasters. The guard that had attacked Wenona screamed as Carson bit its arm.

A loud tonal beep blared from speakers that must have been installed in the walls or ceiling. Rozar’s voice echoed in the room, outside in the hall, and Mike assumed, everywhere in the ship, “This is Fleet Commander Rozar. Humans have escaped. Armed and dangerous. Kill on sight.”

Mike felt like a bucket of ice water had just been dumped on him. We need to go. We need to go! WE NEED TO GO! He wasn’t sure if he had yelled any of that as he rushed forward and pulled Carson off the alien guard who quickly scrambled away holding its arm tightly to try to stop the purple blood from where they’d been bitten.

Simmo picked up one of the dropped blasters and tried a few more shots towards the computer console at Rozar as Jeb helped Wenona to her feet. She stumbled and gasped in pain.

“For my ship!” Simmo roared as she blasted away at the console. “For my crew!” She rushed the side to get a better angle. Mike couldn’t see if she got him or not as he struggled to pull Carson towards the door. He wished he had some sort of leash to help guide the dog away from the now-cowering guard and toward the door.

“Carson, come!” The dog grudgingly let Mike pull him along.

Jebannuck was trying to pick up Wenona who was almost bent over with pain.

“What’s wrong?” Mike yelled. “What happened?”

“No time, hold this,” Jeb handed him an extra blaster so he could lift Wenona over his shoulder, using his now free hand to hold her in place as he ran to the door. “Simmo,” he shouted back, “We’re leaving! NOW!”

The montauk was already at his side. She frowned as they headed for the door, “What’s wrong with her?”

Jebannuck didn’t answer immediately. He led the way down the corridor and paused at the next turn. “Did either of you happen to overhear where the Confederation ship is being held?”

Mike thought back for a moment, trying to remember. “Docking bay 4,” He turned to Simmo. “Do you know where that is?”

Simmo paused then nodded and took the lead down the corridor.

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#abduction #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #aliens #space #jebannuck #mike #wenona #simmo #montauk #burnti #original writing #writeblr #novel #oh my gosh this took forever to write!#just need to get it written

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