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scullydubois · 3 years

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Only the Light Ch. 20

I now present to you a chapter that is filled with more angst than Chris Carter could ever dream of, and for that, I am truly sorry.

Scully and Mulder's foray into domesticity with Emily is interrupted by the past catching up to them. Faced with despair, they cling even tighter to each other.

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Scully is granted maternity leave, though it’s only for two weeks, which Missy let her know is “a piss-poor bargain.” And she knows this is true, but she also has more incentive to stay at her job than ever, so she’d like not to lose it. The fact that advocating for herself and her child would mean risking her job is a mess in itself, but one lone woman can’t be expected to take down the patriarchy, and besides, she’s already tried and failed.

As for she and Mulder, they hide their flirtation in plain sight. Mulder’s perpetually present in body or spirit, but his behavior never reveals anything more than it did before. Every morning he swings by to say hi, brings Scully coffee and a bagel with full-fat cream cheese, and checks if Emily’s picked up any new words. Personally, he’s working on “alien” and if you ask him, she’ll get it soon. She knows that it refers to her UFO stuffie, so sounding out the letters can’t be far behind, much to her mother’s dismay.

On Wednesday of the first week, he shows up at 6pm with takeout carbonara from a local Italian joint. His presence makes every Scully girl happy, but it makes one in particular the happiest, and Melissa realizes that there are definitely things her sister has failed to mention. She doesn’t question it, but watches with glee as the situation unfolds.

After that first night, Mulder keeps coming back with dinner and refuses to let either sister shoulder the cost. On Friday, he stays for a movie too and gets to participate in Emily’s nightly tucking-in ritual (a tickle on the left foot, a tickle on the right foot, and a big smooch on the forehead).

Saturday afternoon, he joins them for a stroller push through the park, earning some serious side-eye from Scully when he suggests that they stop at the playground because, according to the mama bear, “Em can only take six steps at a time, Mulder.” So instead they buy hotdogs from a vendor and eat them on a bench, Emily sandwiched between her mother, her aunt, and her...Mulder. They couldn’t ask for more.

That night, Mulder hangs around after dinner because what else is he gonna do? Go home and watch old baseball games until he falls asleep? A new leaf has been offered to him, and he’s gotta turn it.

He’s baffled when, upon announcing that it’s Emily’s bathtime, Scully goes to the kitchen and switches on the sink.

Scully raises an eyebrow at him. “What, your mother never washed you in the sink when you were a baby?”

“Not that I know of...I have a hard time envisioning myself ever fitting in a sink.”

Scully scoffs. “I forget. You were a Vineyard boy.”

Before he can come up with a smart response to that (as if there actually is one), Missy pipes up. “Oh, I bet you were the kid that took baths with your mother,” she teases. “Care to confirm or deny?”

“If I did I blocked it out of memory, thank god,” he testifies.

Having spread a towel on the counter, Scully strips Emily down and perches the girl on her hip. She sticks her hand under the faucet.

“That’s not too hot, do you think?” she asks Missy, who tests it as well.

“That should be fine.”

Mulder joins in too, and immediately regrets it. He shrinks away from the water, shaking droplets all over the room. “Jesus, Scully! Are you trying to boil her?”

“Babies lose heat quickly because of their body surface to weight ratio,” she says matter-of-factly. “They’re more susceptible to the cold.”

“I think the cold will be the least of her worries,” Mulder quips.

“If you really think it’s too hot, I’ll turn it down…” There’s a concerned crease beneath her eyes, and it makes Mulder feel bad about his joking.

“No, no, you know what you’re doing,” he assures her. “You’re her mother.”

As she lowers Em into the sink, Scully’s heart twinges. Her. A mother. How many times will she have to hear this before it stops feeling like news to her?

One week and bathtime has already become routine. Missy fills a plastic cup and pours it gently over her niece, the water cascading down Em like she is nature’s own. Scully soaps her palms, then glides over her daughter’s skin with such care that its memory may blight any future affection Em is graced with. And then another waterfall, and the gentle brush of a wash cloth against eyes and nose.

Scully squeezes a penny’s worth of baby shampoo into her hand, looks to Mulder. “Come on, get in here. You’re not afraid to get your hands dirty, are you?” she says with a smirk.

He smirks back and shakes his head as she lifts his open palm and shrinks her accumulation to a dime. “Although, technically I am getting my hands cleaner…”

She boops him right on the nose with a shampooed finger. He laughs.

Missy smiles. Oh, to see destiny play out right in front of you. “Someone’s cracking dad jokes,” she points out, unable to resist. This observation is much too on-the-nose for the pair (quite literally for Mulder), who simultaneously blush but say nothing.

Mulder wipes the shampoo from his nose and plants it on Emily’s head, joining his partner in making soapy circles over the girl’s tuft of strawberry hair. Scully’s full attention is directed toward her daughter. As soon as the lather is sufficient, she dons the lifted lilt of motherhood. “Okay, time to rinse! Missy, will you do the honors?”

Missy turns the faucet, fills the cup, and lets it flow over Emily. Mulder and Scully wash their hands off in the stream.

And as Scully leans for the towel, a splash of red dirties its fresh white surface. Mulder notices it first. He points at his partner’s porcelain face. “Scully, you’re bleeding.”

Her hand shoots to her nose. Sure enough, it stains her fingers. “Shit.” She turns away, goes for a tissue. “I haven’t had nosebleeds since I was fourteen,” she tells them, as if that invalidates this one. She wipes away a glob of blood, her stomach turning. “Missy--” her voice shakes involuntarily, “--will you dry Em off?”

“Uh-huh.” She nudges Mulder. “Will you grab a new towel from the linen closet?” she whispers, not wanting to further upset her sister.

Mulder goes off without a word, and Missy squeezes out Em’s hair as best she can. “What a pretty girl!” she gushes. “All clean!”

“Yee!” Emily throws her little fists in the air, injecting joy back into the room.

“Time to put your PJs on, and get a tickle, tickle, smooch.”

Mulder scrambles back in with a new towel, skirting around Scully, who remains occupied with her own situation. He slides the soiled towel away and helps Missy swaddle Em. Mulder ruffles the little girl’s hair, and she laughs like a music box.

“Mol-dy.” She spits it out in halves, as if she’s been rehearsing.

Mulder’s eyes water with recognition. “Mulder? Mul-der? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Moldy,” the girl declares again, certain of herself.

Missy adjusts Em on her hip, smiles at Mulder. “Looks like you’re Moldy now.”

Mulder bites his lip to hide his overwhelming delight. “Yeah, I...I never thought I'd be so happy to be called moldy.”

Next thing he knows, Scully is at his shoulder with a tissue stuffed up her nostrils. “Wait, what’s going on?”

“Em called me Moldy,” he tells her, full of satisfaction.

“Oh.” It comes out relatively unimpressed, but really, she’s just distracted. “Missy, will you get a diaper on her before there’s an accident? I would but I’m still--” She gestures to her nose.

“Yeah, yeah.” Missy smiles at the baby in her arms. “PJ time, Em!” They go off toward the bedroom, a happy pair.

As soon as Em is out of sight, Mulder spirals toward his partner, panic-stricken. The glee of moments ago has evaporated.

“Are you okay?” He touches her hair, shoulders, and the familiar small of her back, unsure of where he should land.

“I’m fine, it’s fine.” Her grip on his elbows--keeping his hands firmly placed on her waistline--suggests otherwise.

“You’ve got to see a doctor,” he pleads. “This could be...”

“This could be what, Mulder?” The steel in her blue eyes is a death grip. She’s never liked being told the obvious.

“Scully…” He sighs, rubs his neck, wills her to say what they both know. When she doesn’t, he takes his hands off her and wrings them together. “The Mufon women...they said it would happen to all of them eventually.” He’s careful not to lump Scully in with their group.

“And what do they know?” she retorts. “One of them was sick. One.”

“Okay, well, don’t you think it’s better to be safe than sorry?” he reasons. “You have Emily to look out for now.”

Scully rolls her eyes. “Don’t guilt trip me. It’s a nosebleed. Those happen all the time for completely benign reasons.”

“Yeah, but they don’t happen to you. You just said--you haven’t had one since you were fourteen.”

She clenches her jaw. He’s right, and she’s playing the fool. His position is the one she would take if this were anyone other than herself. She’s gonna have to lose this fight with as much grace as possible.

“Fine. I’ll get it checked out, but they’re gonna think I’m insane for coming in because of one nosebleed.”

“That’s a nice change of pace--you being the insane one for once.”

“Well, you’re the one who wants me to go, so you’re not out of the woods.”

“Good, I’ve finally got some company!”

Scully smiles in spite of herself. “Yes, yes you do.”

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It happens very quickly, as most calamities of life can be said to. This gives it the unreal quality of a nightmare that might soon be woken up from, if there is any justice in the world.

Scully snags a doctor’s appointment for three days after the initial nosebleed. By the time she walks into the waiting room, one nosebleed has quadrupled into four, and her minor concern has snowballed into abject terror.

Margaret Scully drove into the city to watch Emily so Missy could join her sister. Scully insisted that she would go alone, but Missy wouldn’t accept this. She threatened to tell Mulder the details of the appointment if Dana didn’t let her go, and that was enough to earn her a spot in the passenger seat. Scully can’t take the thought of Mulder witnessing the worst--let alone her reaction to the worst.

And so it goes something like this: they are taken to an exam room, at which point Scully explains her situation to a nurse, including that she has recently learned she is at high risk for cancer. The nurse assures her that such a diagnosis is highly unlikely, but makes a note for the doctor. The doctor comes in with knitted eyebrows and listens to Scully describe the aftermath of her abduction experience with a heavy emphasis on the convoluted but substantial claims of the Mufon women. She asks if Scully has had any other symptoms, to which Scully replies that it’s hard to tell because she has an infant in the house and thus, a marked lack of sleep.

The doctor laughs, but it’s not a haha laugh, more of an I feel your pain. She agrees that the women’s claims are concerning, but tells her patient not to fret. They’ll take all the precautions, run any test that might assuage her worries. There’s a quip about how it’ll be on the government’s dime since it covers Scully’s insurance, and then the doctor leaves to order an MRI.

A full body MRI, which Scully has never had, and which she hoped she would never require. There’s no deeper sickness than one that cannot be pinpointed, and no greater fear than of the unknown turning into the worst case scenario.

The MRI is completed that same day. As she slides into the machine, Scully thinks of Betsy Hagopian and wonders how she’s doing. It has been many months since she stood outside an exam room and watched Betsy enter one of these. Has fate been kind to her?

For a few minutes, her world is limited to the mere inches between her face and this life-saving yet life-ruining contraption. It is noisy and sometimes bright and altogether disorientating. She is glad when it’s over.

The images return almost immediately, and maybe it would all have been okay if Scully weren’t trained in radiology herself, if she wasn’t able to recognize the glaring speck of light in her nasal cavity for what it is. But that one glance is all she needs to know that waiting by the phone isn’t an option.

“It’s a tumor, isn’t it?” she blurts as the radiologist tries to escort her and Melissa from the room. “In the nasal cavity. I have a M.D. I saw.”

“Your doctor will call with the results,” the radiologist insists, standing by the open doorway.

“No, no, you can’t do this to me,” Scully sputters. “I know what I saw, and I don’t have any time to waste.” Her eye twitches in a combination of stress and anger. “I have an infant daughter.”

The radiologist sighs, pity on top of pity. “Perhaps your doctor will talk it through with you now.”

“Yes. Please.”

And it is talked through, though there’s no need to make it complicated: nasopharyngeal carcinoma. Inoperable, and just barely in the realm of treatable. That’s the kicker, the coyote in the pasture, the cloud covering the sun. In the words of Scully’s doctor, it is auspiciously rare. And in Scully’s brain, it is the bottom she’s been expecting to drop out from under since she held her daughter in her arms.

Melissa drives home. The sisters cannot fathom how they will tell their mother. Cannot fathom ruining her blissful time with the granddaughter she’s just met. When they turn onto their street, Scully swallows hard and coughs on her own spit. “Will you do something for me?”

Missy looks over, eager to do anything she can, yet terrified by the possibility of the request.

“Will you take me to Mulder’s?” Scully mumbles. “I would just take the car but...I can’t face mom right now. I don’t want to risk it.”

Missy bites her lip. “And what am I supposed to tell mom when she asks where you are?”

“The truth,” Scully says curtly. “She doesn’t need the backstory.”

Missy drives past their building, though she’s not completely sold on her sister’s reasoning. “Don’t you think she might wonder why you aren’t coming home to your daughter?”

“I know she’ll wonder, Melissa, I know all of this,” Scully snaps because she needs to. “I don’t care.”

“Okay.” Missy’s voice is barely perceptible. I don’t care; she knows how low her sister has to be to say those words.

They complete the drive in silence, Scully biting her nails--a habit which she has never possessed, and perhaps just acquired. The car idles as Missy pulls up to the curb of Mulder’s building.

“I can pick you up when you need it,” she tells her sister as she pulls herself out of the car. “I’ll bring Em.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Scully says, closing the passenger door and edging toward the building. Missy hears a thanks float toward the car, then her sister is gone like a teenage girl embarrassed by her mother.

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They sit on Mulder’s couch, muted. Words cannot fathom the injustice of this situation, nor can they suffice as empathy. Their hands are clasped together, a throughline of strength between them. This is what they need now; the most primitive language of all.

Scully’s watery eyes brush Mulder’s face. His own eyes, more pained than usual, look into hers. Without a word, she drapes an arm around her partner’s shoulders and scoots into his lap. He is surprised but not distressed. What else is left for them, now?

She is tiny, so tiny. And she is his.

Their eyes meet once again, speaking in tongues. Scully nods, and then Mulder does too. This is it. This is it.

Permission granted at last, Scully’s lips travel to her partner’s jawline. The first time her lips have touched his body, and this is where they go. She is a constant box of wonders, a fortune he can never predict. Her lips are much like he has fantasized they would be: wondrously soft and silky, stroking him like they have always meant to be there. Yet he couldn’t have imagined the urgency with which they burrow into his skin. As if she’s making a mental map of his bone structure. He never expected that she would want him this much.

His hands find her hips and grip the cotton of her shirt between his fingers. It is enough to tear her away from his flesh. Mission accomplished. His breath travels past her ear, hitting her neck. It is shallow and warm as he breathes her name. Her real name, the one her family calls her. She breathes his own back to him, like a bird responding to a mating call.

She feels his lips on her neck, wet and aching. It feels like God. This is the most blasphemous thought she has ever had. She throws her head back, exposing the whole of her skin to him. What is holiness, if not this moment?

He showers her in tattoo kisses, and she lets him, she lets him, she lets him. This is not just what she wants, but what she needs. No one will save her now, she knows this. So she has decided not to be saved.

Her shirt ripples as he clutches it. “May I?” He is breathy, awe-struck.

“Only if I can do the same.” Always about equality, his Scully is. He lifts his arms, lets her strip him first. He is fraught with the temptation to feel insecure, inadequate, but this is not about him--this is all for her. There is no time to dwell on this anyway. Scully takes in the sight, then puts her own arms up with a hint of impatience. He pulls her shirt over her head, and goosebumps adorn her as the air hits her bare stomach.

It is unimaginable, the significance of this moment. All Mulder can do is keep going, lest the emotion hit him and he find himself blubbering all over her. His hands travel her body...it is slender and white, but so solid, so strong. Cartilage forming ligaments forming joints connecting bones. And her skin, stretching over her hips and framing it all. The masterpiece that is Dana Katherine Scully.

He fears for the day she will cave in on herself. Already, one of his hands covers her whole rib cage. Right now he can cradle her body comfortably against his own, but the day will come when a single cautious touch will crush her, and his heart along with it. He wants her as she is now forever.

Seeing that he wants to pamper her, Scully lets herself be pampered. He showers the taut length of her collar bone in kisses. The vibration resonates throughout her bone structure, and already she can feel him in places she’s only fantasized about having him. He is going to heal me, she thinks. If anyone could heal her in any way, it would be him doing this.

She shows her gratitude by kneading circles into his soft tissues, so tense from all their days chasing ghosts. The sinew relaxes beneath the pads of her fingers, and she feels like she has solved the most important X-File of all.

Mulder traces his way along her spine. He has never touched her here, nor ever even fantasized about it, and there is an erotic tension--like a needle about to drop on a record--that neither one of them could have seen coming. Inevitably, his hands converge at the hooks of her bra. She arches her back in approval. He slides the hooks away from each other, and both of them feel the release. She shimmies off the garment before he can pull it out of the way. No secrets, not anymore.

Mulder didn’t expect to cry and is aware that most women wouldn’t take that as a positive sign, but seeing her, like this, knowing what they both know, tears feel like the least he could offer up. She is...beautiful is too weak a word to describe it. He needs to invent a new word to capture the essence of his emotions, the reverence with which he views her. He is not a religious man, but he will worship her until the end of time.

He has known this, intuitively, for a while, and now he’s putting it into practice. He wants to do everything he can for her, give her everything she wants. Yet he doesn’t know how to, and this scares him. She has always slipped through his fingers, always turned on a dime just when he thought he figured her out. Tonight is no exception. How was he to know that he’d be on his couch with a half-naked Scully in his lap?

He fears the tears will offend her, so he nuzzles into her heartspace, his nose pressed against the heart that is--by the grace of that God she worships--still beating. His lips meet the plush of her left breast.

Where does he go from here? The dusty routine he’s used with other women--the few who have given themselves to him or let him hand himself over--is not worthy enough for Scully. He could never touch Scully in the ways he’s touched the women before because she is not like the women before. There is no mere giving or taking here, no detached exchange of commodities or pleasure for the sake of pleasure. This is survival. They are symbiotically keeping each other alive.

A drop of water hits Scully’s skin, slides down the curvature of her breast. She shudders. A tear. That’s what it is, she realizes. Mulder is crying. It’s a baptism of unfortunate proportions.

She cups her hand against his chin, tilts it up so his bleary eyes meet hers. She rests her forehead against his. “Shh, shh, it’s okay.” She kisses each eye closed, his lids fluttering beneath her lips. “It’s okay.”

His breathing steadies. He is quite certain that it is not okay, that it never will be, but he listens to her, lets himself pretend.

Hands still on his chin, she careens their lips together. His mouth on hers; a godsend. They caress each other for a moment, then Scully opens wide, and Mulder does too. They are reflecting.

If Scully could compress herself, pushing every particle of air out of her lungs and into his, she would. As a sort of thank you, for everything. For what he has done, what is doing, what he will do...She will never have to live without him. She knows this now, and it makes this easier. But he will have to live without her, and so she must make sure he gets the memories he needs to carry on. This is how grief works, she’s acquainted with it. These moments, these feelings, these bated breaths and tender touches, will be his survival mechanism for awhile. Until the day when he can throw them off and go on without her ghost. It will happen one day, and she will be glad that he made it.

She feels him pressing against her stomach, which is certainly not where she wants him. “Fox…” Her hands hover above his belt. She unzips his fly first, her hand warm against him. He is dizzy with want as her fingers curl against his belt buckle, loosening it with confidence. In a sweeping gesture, she pushes his jeans off his hips, exposing him. The thrill she feels, seeing him big and bare in front of her, is a new kind of livelihood. She’s overcome with the desire to take him in her mouth--and that has never, never been her first instinct. She ducks down, but he stops her.

“Dana, no. You.”

She doesn’t need to hear it twice. She sucks in a breath, arches her back, and slides onto him. Slowly, gasping as they go.

“Am I hurting you?”

Scully shakes her head, lips parted. It has been nothing like this before...nothing so fulfilling. She crosses her ankles, binding them completely together at last.

Unity triumphs against the self, their union abolishing the world’s insistence on the solitude of the individual. This is what it’s about, isn’t it? Being joined, not only in spirit, but in body? Knowing that whatever horrors are to come, he will feel them as she does. Her dwindling will be his too, her losses an equally empty space within him.

She is teetering on the edge of something she can never come back from. She is not afraid.

She careens her fingernails into his back as the pressure builds. If it doesn’t come to a head, she’ll die right here, she thinks.

She barely registers the cathartic noises coming out of her, though they give Mulder great delight. He thought she would be quiet, and the fact that she’s not trying to hold anything in--after holding everything in for so goddamn long--is the most moving part of the experience.

And they want this to go on forever, but they want the release. Mulder swivels his hips into her, bringing them both closer to climax. Scully curls against him.

“I’m sorry,” she cries into his ear.

“What?” He nearly pulls out of her, fearing that she’s hurt.

“No, no--” She scrambles to stay with him. “This--” she pants “--is so good.” She lowers her lips onto his as confirmation, then speaks into his open mouth. “I’m just sorry to be the one to go.”

He frames her ribcage, thumbs arching toward her belly button. “Fuck, honey...don’t say that, don’t even think that…”

They won’t linger on the choice of pet name, the tenderness with which it settles over her, nor the absolute devastation of her words. There is simply no time.

Scully hides her face in his neck as the wave breaks over both of them. There is no world anymore, only the two of them on this couch. They have forsaken the physical realm, ascending to heaven in time with their heartbeats.

Mulder understands then what his reciprocal means when she says she needs proof to believe. Now that he’s been there and felt it, he knows that heaven exists, and holy shit, what does that mean for the life he has lived and the time he has left? What did it mean for Samantha?...What will it mean for Scully?

They collapse into each other, a melted mass of skin and bone. Two becoming one, becoming two again. Mulder strokes the back of his partner’s head, presses his lips to her temple. Her chest rises against him in jagged breaths.

“You are the only proof I’ll ever need that this life is worth it,” he murmurs. “Just you.”

Scully looks up at him, tears running down her cheeks. He kisses them away and wraps his arms around her. “I don’t know if you got the memo, but I love you, Dana Scully.”

She rests her cheek against his. “I love you too, F--Mulder.”

Mulder chuckles, his amusement shaking both of them. Scully closes her eyes and snuggles into him. He puts his hand over her heart, feels it beating steadily into his palm, and longs for it to stay like that forever.

#i have been working on that last scene since uhhh...october #i apologize for any emotional distress this and the following chapters will cause lmao #probably only two or three chapters left!!!#thank you for reading <3 #only the light fic #missy and scully fic #txf #txf fic #the x-files #fox mulder #dana scully #melissa scully #mine

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hotchley · 3 years

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that’s okay

Oh my god it’s out before midnight!! Are you proud of me?? Once again, it has not been proofread, but that’s fine, this is for fun! Also, the same line where Aaron says he doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore is also where I lost the plot so erm... yeah

Once again: little plot. Not much point. Low-key hate the ending. May have fucked up Hotch’s character. But I had fun writing it so we’re just... yeah we’re going with.

Title comes from That’s Okay by The Hush Sound (would 10/10 recommend), and I have to thank Caitlin ( @themetaphorgirl ) for that one because I was sat there like: I have everything but a title and then I remembered That’s Okay and was like AHA

Trigger Warnings: trauma, trauma responses, child abuse, religion, religious trauma

read on ao3!

When he finishes his speech, he meets Erin's eyes, determined and angry. At her, for pushing him and doubting his abilities in the one place he felt like he could maintain control in. At Jason, for once again putting him in a situation where he has to take the fall and piece things back together. Because he has to play this stupid game of politics. At the team, because it is easy.

But most of all, he is angry at himself because he shouldn't be angry at them. He shouldn't be angry at Jason or Erin. He shouldn't be angry, because anger means he's creeping closer and closer to the line that separates himself from his father and if he goes too far, he will lose everything and he won't be able to come back. Ever.

"Aaron," she says, and his glare loses its power. She says his name, his first name, like it means something. With a gentleness that he had never felt before Haley softly repeated it to herself, as though she was trying to test out each syllable before she got too close.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "That comment about your son was unfair. I know you love them all equally."

She shakes her head. "Don't apologise. You know I don't enjoy doing this. Undermining you like this. Asking these questions, saying these things. But if we are both going to keep our jobs, then I have to."

At that moment, she is not Strauss. She is Erin, just another victim of bureau politics, trying to keep her head above water. It's what causes Aaron to reply, instead of just walking out.

"I know," he says. "I know."

"Why don't you ever let Jason take the fall for his mistakes? I'm not an idiot, I know these things aren't your doing. He's a grown man. He can accept the consequences that come with acting the way he does. You don't need to take them."

She doesn't understand. He does. He needs to take them because taking punishment is the only way he can atone for the multitude of sins he commits every single day. He needs to take the blame because he is the only one that can come back from it. The only one that can be replaced with ease.

He needs to take the blame because it reminds him that this, just like everything he has been stripped of in his life- his childhood, his ability to love, his warmth, his innocence, his faith in both something else and humanity- this can and will be taken from him the moment he puts a foot wrong.

The Bureau, much like the small town in Virginia that he will never refer to as home because he never once felt safe, not even when Haley held him with gentle and unblemished hands, does not show anyone mercy. Least of all those that dare to speak out against injustice.

"I do. Jason Gideon is nothing without the BAU. I can't take that from him," he says.

He hates to be vulnerable with her, but she is the only one left that he truly trusts. That remembers the boy he was when he first joined. That knows the lock on his drawer is not because there is alcohol, but because he keeps the file with his incomplete profile of George Foyet in there.

"And you?" she asks.

"And I?"

"What are you without the BAU?"

And isn't that the question he wishes he knew the answer to? He is not a father, he knows that much. A real father wouldn't have hesitated to transfer after Jason returned. A real father would kiss their son goodnight without feeling guilty and hug them without fear. And he is not a husband. On a technicality, he is, but even he can see that Haley isn't happy. The day where she leaves will be sooner rather than later, and he will be powerless to stop her.

A part of him doesn't want to fight. It will be easier on both of them if she leaves before the inevitable happens. Before the pieces of himself he gives up to do this job become irretrievable. Before he is more than just his father's mirror, he is his father's son.

Before the job he is nothing without ruins her life beyond repair.

"I don't know," he confesses. In some strange way, he feels like a child again. Being asked by the priest what he thinks his punishment for lying about what really happens in the Hotchner family home should be, even though he wasn't lying. He was never lying. They were all just too afraid to confront the truth.

The same way he was.

"Get some rest. I'll speak to the Director and other higher-ups. You'll have a job to come back to. I promise."

It is an impossible promise, one she may not be able to keep, but her tone is gentle and her words soothe him the way a parents' declarations of love never had, so he simply nods and exits her office.

He doesn't look at any of the team when he gets back to his office. He doesn't bother to knock on Jason's door to make sure he isn't looking through the Book of the Damned. When Derek calls his name, he speeds up, knowing that out of all of them, he owes him the most answers, but finds himself completely unable to give them.

Haley doesn't know that he is returning. He doesn't have the energy to tell her. As he turns onto their road, he is almost tempted to keep going. Past their house. Past her sister's apartment. Past her parents' house and his father's grave. Past everything that keeps him grounded.

The idea of giving into temptation was something drilled out of him long ago. So he turns into their driveway, wondering what the neighbours will say when one of them inevitably moves out. Will they find it sad, that the young couple they had all hoped would last, had fallen apart? Will they wonder what the final straw was?

Haley is still in her work clothes when he enters the living room. She had already picked Jack up from his daycare on her way back, and her son- as far as he's concerned, he's nothing more than the sperm donor- babbles away happily as he plays with the toys his mother and aunt had picked out for him on their last day out together.

"You're back early," she says, without any malice.

"Strauss told me to get some rest," he replies. "How are the students?"

She smiles at the mention of her class. "Glad to have me back. Excited for your next Southern treat, because no matter how many times I tell them I also lived in that town, they only want it if you made it."

"Well you moved there for your junior year, so I can understand why," he jokes, but instead of wiping away the bad memories of the case, it leaves him more exhausted than before.

"Aaron, what happened today?" she asks him, so attuned to his moods and feelings that he often wonders why she doesn't become a profiler.

"It's nothing," he tells her. No matter how many times she begs for him to tell her why he wakes up in the middle of the night, to share why he can't touch her without showering for a longer amount of time than can be healthy, he won't.

"You don't need to say specifics. But please don't lie to me."

"I'm sorry. I- can we eat first?"

Her mouth parts with shock. Of course they can eat first. She would do whatever was needed if it meant he would finally, after so many years of being married, tell her the truth about his job. She understood his need to keep it a secret. But when he came home, looking more defeated than he had at sixteen, she worried.

He puts Jack to sleep before climbing into bed beside her. She puts her book down- she hadn't really been reading it, just holding it to give her something to do- and turns so she's laying on her side. Absent-mindedly, she starts drawing circles on his stomach. His hand trembles as he removes it, placing it on the bed sheet.

"I profiled the team today," he begins.

Haley sits up properly. "I thought you had a rule against that."

"We do. But Erin… pushed. And before I knew what was happening I was sharing information about all of them. Things that- I don't know if they know that I know. And Erin is too good to use it to blackmail any of us but she isn't a profiler. They'll realise she knows."

"What did you tell her?" is all she says. She knows her husband. Knows how he takes everything personally, and how he will hold himself to unreachable standards because he was never allowed to be anything but perfect, and anything less than that is failure.

He tells her, in almost perfect verbatim, the same words he told Erin. Towards the end, his voice starts to get choked up. She knows he stutters when he feels under pressure or anxious and she knows he hates it. So instead of speaking, she takes his left hand, clasps it with both of hers and rubs circles over the knuckles.

For a moment, he stops speaking, staring at their interlocked hands instead with a look of slight wonder. Like even after all this time, he still couldn't believe he got to touch her. That she wanted to touch him, in spite of his devils and darkness.

It gives him the strength to finish.

"And you?" she asks, after it becomes clear he won't offer any more information as to why it hurt him so much.

Her question is an echo of Erin's, and he closes his eyes, giving himself a few moments to get lost in his head, where it is not necessarily safe, but is where he can be alone and not pretend to be good.

"And I?"

"What did you say about yourself?"

"I said that if she could find someone better, then I wished her luck," he says, voice completely flat and monotone.

Haley tries to not be offended that he is speaking to her like she is an officer of the law, or a suspect, instead of her husband. "Why didn't you say more?"

"More?"

She nods. "You're feeling guilty because you profiled the team, but you didn't. You shared the pieces of them that make them human. That make them good agents and even better people. You didn't say anything like that about yourself. Why not?"

"Because I'm not like them. My trauma- I'm just not like the rest of the team, okay?"

"I know enough about trauma to know it affects every person differently, so I won't dispute that one. But if you're saying that you're not like the rest of your family, not team, then what are you like? Because from where I'm sitting, you are."

"I'm not," he repeats, growing slightly agitated.

She needs him to understand he is. "Aren't you?"

"No." this time, there is venom in his words. But it doesn't frighten her. It never has. The only time his words have such hatred injected into them is when he's afraid of himself. She's never been afraid of him. She never will be. Because to her, he is good. He is trying.

"How?" she pushes one last time.

And the dam explodes.

“I’m not soft! I’m not beautiful or kind or good or any of the things those stupid, stupid motivational quotes say! I’m not- I’m not like the others and all I want to know is why. Everyone else is good. They’re light and sweet and good. We’ve all been- we all have trauma. Why can’t I- why am I different? Why did mine make me violent and scared and- why can’t I move on?”

It was not what she was expecting. It was not what she thought he was going to say, and now she doesn't know what she is meant to do. She doesn't know how to piece him back together. Not this time. Not when his words are a confession he has been clinging to since the day he met Spencer.

"Aaron," she begins, for lack of other words to say.

"Don't," he cuts her off. "Please. Just don't. I can- I'll sleep in the guest room. You shouldn't have to deal with me when I'm like this."

"You're having a bad day. It's what I signed up to deal with," she says.

He shakes his head. "Not like this. Not like- Haley, what kind of father avoids his son the way I do because they're afraid? What kind of man doesn't know the difference between safety and happiness? How broken am I if my twenty-five year old subordinate can move on better than I can?"

"You're scared. You're a victim of child abuse. It's not- it's normal that you feel like this. I think. Aaron, I don't know. I don't know what kind of person this all makes you. But when I look at you, I see the man I married, the one so terrified of everything, thriving. I see someone that suffered atrocities that nobody should ever be put through fighting with everything they are, to break that cycle. I don't know how to make you feel better, but I vowed to be honest with you. And this is me doing that."

"You're the first person to tell me it wasn't my fault," he whispers. "Everyone else always said that I must've done something to deserve it."

"You were a child Aaron. You all were."

It was the wrong thing to say.

"We were all children, but they're all better. They haven't closed themselves off. They- I see them, with their unfailing faith in humanity and it hurts. It physically hurts. What am I doing to them? What happens when the evil they see outweighs the goodness?"

"It's okay, Aaron," she laughs, because if she doesn't, she will cry and she will not do that. Not in this moment. "It's- the trauma and the hurt and the heartbreak doesn't always give you faith. It doesn't always make you a better person. Yes, they are still positive and happy and beautiful and good, but so are you. It's just buried somewhere. Because sometimes the trauma just hurts."

He stares at her eyes, and she sees the tears that had been threatening to fall since he got into the bed start to spill over. With one cautious hand, she wipes it away. She counts it as a win when he leans into the touch without flinching.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he whispers.

"That's the beautiful thing about love. We are all entitled to it. It's just about whether or not we'll take it."

"I don't know how to stop being so broken," he adds.

"You're not- people are not broken. Not ever. They are damaged by life and the terrible things that other people do, but they're never broken. Not beyond repair. Do you hear me? You are not broken. You never were. You were just hurt. But there are so many people that love you. That want to help you. All you have to do is ask."

"I know. I just- I wish he didn't have such a tight hold on me. I wish I could be more like Penelope. Or Derek. They're so beautiful, with their faith in love and goodness. Derek didn't have anyone. Not in the way I had you."

She didn't have to ask to know who he was talking about. "He was your father. Even despite everything, he took time off work when you had chicken pox and played with you when you were old enough to remember the snow."

"I know. I don't know what I'm saying anymore. Do you think I'll always be like this? Cold and unapproachable and full of darkness?"

"The only people you are ever cold and unapproachable with is unsubs. Suspects. And there's nothing wrong with darkness. There's no light without it." she can't say anything more than that. Not without lying.

"You always know what to say," he says to her, hesitantly pulling her closer towards him.

She smiles. "It's because I love you."

His own smile fades, and he doesn't reply, instead brushing her hair off her face. She tries to not let it sting. The words had never been something said freely in his house. Never used to actually express love, only as a plea for mercy. There are a few minutes of silence, and she think he's finally fallen asleep.

Then he speaks.

"Haley, what if I can't save them? I've already failed once. What if this, part of me, means the next time they need me, I can't be there? I can't save them?"

She thinks her answer over for a few minutes.

"Sometimes the way to save other people is to save ourselves. You need to save yourself first. But listen to me."

She can tell he's fighting sleep now, so she speaks quickly.

"There is nothing wrong with you. Yes, you are flawed and you make mistakes, but that is because you are human. We all make mistakes. We are never perfect. You are not the only one to screw up. But this part of you-" she places a hand over his heart "-this part of you is not broken. It is not wrong or anything that you were led to believe it was. You are exactly what and where you need to be. And I love you for that."

"Do you promise?"

She swallows. "Of course I do."

She's not entirely sure whether she's lying, but he drifts off with a smile, so she decides she doesn't care. There are certain lies she is willing to tell, if only so her husband has one night of peace.

Thinking of him as her husband is painful, because she knows it is only a matter of time before one of them snaps. Before this balance he has fought so hard to achieve topples like Jack's building blocks. She knows which way it will topple. She isn't angry.

But the balance hasn't toppled yet. It won't for a few weeks. So maybe it is wrong, but instead of pulling away, she lets herself hold her husband, the steady beating of his heart sending her to sleep.

She is right though. Even when she's no longer there, he knows she is right. That sometimes the pain is not poetic or character-building. Sometimes, it is just pain, and the only way forward is directly through it. It is not easy, but it is possible.

Everything is possible, so long as he lets himself feel without guilt.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner #hotch x haley #haley hotchner #erin strauss #tw trauma #tw trauma response #tw child abuse #tw religon #tw religious trauma #sad aaron hotchner #hurt aaron hotchner #sumayyah writes cm

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quartzwriting · 4 years

Text

With The Malfoys

Pairing: Draco Malfoy X Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Description: You had been staying with your boyfriend’s family, the Malfoys, before the summer break is over. You also go with them on a trip to Diagon Alley to get your school supplies for the new year. Draco comforts your insecurity.

Warnings: Non

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Originally posted on Qutoev / TRANS LIVES MATTER / I really like this one, wrote it when I was on a Draco high a few years ago haha. Also more Draco cause he’s popular right now. (I’m not into Draco anymore but these exist)

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You began to stir in your sleep when someone started knocking on the guest bedroom door. The sun shining in your eyes from the large windows didn’t help at all. You heard the door open and small footsteps follow behind.

“Lady (Y/N)? You’ve requested for me to wake you up at this hour.”

The light voice of the small house elf fully woke you up. You sat up and rubbed the tiredness from your eyes. “Yes, thank you Sammi.”

“Also, Mrs. Malfoy has invited you for morning tea. And an owl came this morning for you.” The little house elf said as she began to flatten out the sheets on your large guest bed. She had handed you a letter closed with a familiar seal. You didn’t hesitate to rip it open read it.

Hope you’re doing well darling,

It does feel weird having you be gone from the house two weeks early, but I assume everything is fine over there. I received a letter from Lucius and he says he enjoys having you at the Manor, and that he has noticed how happy you make his son. He says he wants you back for your Christmas break, he invited me and your father as well. Let me know and we’ll hopefully see you for Christmas over there. I hope you are remembering your manners over there! Treat everyone well and don’t forget to go to Diagon Alley to get your stuff for school. And write me back if you can!

See you soon, I love you

Signed

-Your mother

You were staying at Malfoy Manor for the last two weeks of summer break. Despite them being controversial both at school and in wizarding world in general, you loved Draco’s family. They adored you and they insisted that you stay with them before the next school year started.

The letter from your mother made you happy, but also semi embarrassed you. You have often received positive things from both your and Draco’s parents that you were dating. It took a while for his father to warm up to you, but his mother loved you instantly. And your parents adored Draco. All four of them never let you forget how perfect they thought you were.

You got up and Sammi the house elf made your bed behind you. Over the past few days, she sort of became your personal house elf since she was assigned to you so much. You showed her nothing but kindness and compassion. It was nice to have someone like her with you all throughout your stay.

You got ready in the bathroom and dressed into a clean outfit. A simple black dress and some black heel boots. You found yourself dressing a bit more formal when with the Malfoys, you grew to like it (and you felt good wearing nice dresses).

You came back into your room to find Sammi tidying it up a bit. She worked really hard by what you have seen her do.

“I appreciate your company, Sammi.”

She turned to you and her huge eyes lit up. “No one has ever been as kind to me as you, Lady (Y/N)!” Her speech was not like other house elves, not referring to herself in third person.

“It’s nothing don’t worry.” You waved it off. “Also I told you that you don’t have to call me ‘lady’.”

“Are you sure? I’m too used to being so formal to our guests."

You nodded and she smiled. You walked over to your bedside table and picked up your wand to place in the belt of your dress.

“But I quite like the sound of ‘lady (Y/N)’!” Sammi beamed, dusting a nearby shelf.

“There’s no need, really.” You replied, picking up the glass of water next to where your wand was and taking a sip.

“But really…” She paused. “Maybe someday I’ll be calling you Mrs. Malfoy.”

You choked and water went down the wrong way.

“I honestly do hope you and Master Draco get married. Maybe it will happen once you both graduate from Hogwarts. Oh, a house elf can only dream.” And with that she left your room, leaving you a coughing and blushing mess.

~~~~

Descending the main staircase, you made your way towards the drawing room where Narcissa Malfoy often invited you to have tea in the morning. You knew where you were going now, the manor had become familiar dispute its size. The first few days you always found yourself lost in the giant mansion, there were too many rooms to explore and curiosity took over plenty of times.

“Good morning, darling.” Narcissa greeted you while using her wand to pour you tea.

“Morning, Narcissa.” She had insisted that you call her by her first name.

“Did you get your letter? Who was it from?”

You sat down in the chair across from hers, it was soft and large. Taking your tea, you curled up on the chair. “The letter was from my mother.”

She smiled into her tea cup. “Oh (your mother’s name), I do miss her. Maybe she and your father should join us for Christmas…oh has Lucius or Draco mentioned that to you yet?”

“They hadn’t told me, but mum mentioned it in her letter. She’d love to come I’m sure.”

“I hope they do.” Narcissa smiled. “I’m sure if you asked them you all could join us.”

“I can ask them. I should write them back.”

Narcissa was already on it, using her magic to hand you a piece of parchment and a quill with ink already. You thanked her and began a letter back to your mother, writing on top of a book on your lap. Neutral peaceful silence fell in the room, Narcissa now petting a cat while you wrote to your mother and drank your tea. While writing, the large doors to the room opened and you wondered who had entered.

"Morning, Princess."

It was Draco. You felt his presence over your shoulder so you scooted over in your chair for him to sit. He did so, plopping down and slinging his arm around you.

"Morning mother." He smiled innocently, she was eyeing him for not acknowledging her earlier along with you. He then glanced down at you , "Whats this?"

"Mum wrote me this morning, replying back." You answered, then raising your quill to tickle his face for a split second just to bug him.

“Oh Draco, what do you think about the (L/N)s joining us for Christmas this year?” His mother asked him, chiming in about the letter.

"That would be great." He answered but he sounded unsure, then he continued which explained it, "but...do we want them near the other people we usually invite to our Christmas parties?"

"What do you mean?" She raised an eyebrow.

He turned to you. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to meet my aunt Bella, (Y/N).”

“Do not speak of your aunt like that Draco.” Narcissa scoffed. “But...it is true that my sister is a little…uh”

“Insane?” Draco suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“Peculiar.” She corrected while eyeing her son.

"I'm sure me and my parents will survive a party here." You laughed.

~~~~

“Why is it that whenever I set foot in Diagon Alley, I instantly smell mudbloods?”

You slapped him on the shoulder. “Draco!”

“What? It’s kinda true.” This told you that he was trying to make a joke, but you just rolled your eyes.

You, Draco, Lucius and Narcissa were now walking down the street in Diagon Alley to get the things on your list for your next year at Hogwarts.

Once you got to a populated area, you felt eyes staring at you and the Malfoys. You instantly grew self conscious. You wrapped your arms around yourself and suddenly became aware of how heavy your footsteps sounded with the heels. Did you look like a snob to them? Too dramatic or over the top? Actually...do people think that you’re a Death Eater?

Draco noticed that you had become fidgety and nervous. He put it together and saw that you didn’t like the stares. He reached out and gently grabbed your hand to hold it.

“It’s okay, darling.” He whispered, pulling you closer to him protectively. “Keep that head held high. They’re just jealous that you’re so beautiful.”

You blushed and chuckled under your breath. Soon you found a small push of confidence, head up and smiling.

Yeah that’s right, I’m with the Malfoys! I probably look really good right now.

One of the first stops was Flourish and Blotts, where you needed to get the new textbooks for your classes. Draco’s parents had wandered to speak with another pure blood family that was on the other side of the shop, while you and Draco looked for textbooks. You scanned the shelves for a copy of Advanced Potion-making, and you felt Draco looming over your shoulder as he helped you look.

Then something caught your attention and you listened carefully. There was a group talking somewhere, and you swear you heard them mutter Malfoy and (L/N). Draco was busy mumbling to himself the book titles as he browsed the shelves, while you listened. It clicked in your head and the voices were suddenly recognizable.

You didn’t look in their direction and tried to act casual. Draco hadn’t noticed yet, so you slapped him lightly to get his attention.

“Draco.” You whispered.

He kept talking to himself, “Scamander? What an unfortunate surname to have...”

You rolled your eyes, “Draco!”

“What?”

“Shh! Listen.”

He did, then he understood what you meant. The two of you listened into the conversation while still trying to look like you were busy.

“Also why do they always dress like that? Are they going to a party?”

“Those heels (L/N) is wearing look really uncomfortable.”

“I’m surprised they’re still together. How long has it been?”

“A few years now.”

“Longer than most people at Hogwarts.”

“I don’t care, it’s still disgusting.”

“Is she with him just because he’s rich?”

“Maybe.”

"Maybe they've been arranged, like an arranged marriage."

"I wouldn't be surprised, not many pure blood families to keep the Malfoy family completely pure."

“They look like they’re plotting something…”

“Just by looking at books?”

“They always look like they’re up to no good.”

“Probably been bowing to You-Know-Who all summer.”

Draco had enough and he spoke up, “You’re really bad at being quiet, Potter.”

Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger all stopped talking, and turned to you and Draco with shocked faces. A smirk pulled at your lips, and you assumed your boyfriend was doing the same, the menacing smiles of a perfect Slytherin duo and couple.

You followed Draco as he approached the trio, knowing that all hell was about to break loose. But you were here for it. You stood there, arms crossed over your chest as you watched Draco and Harry have a standoff.

While the boys were nagging at each other, you watched with amusement. You quickly glanced to the side and looked at the bookshelf. “Oh look, here they are!” You took two copies of Advanced Potion-making off the shelf, which was right beside Granger. Somehow this irritated her.

“Oh by the way.” You started. “I’m not with him just because he’s rich,” You did your best intentionally annoying Hermione Granger impression. “and we weren't arranged. Pfff. Shame on you, mudblood.”

Alright maybe that was a little low for you to stoop down to, but what she said really got on your nerves so you said the first insult you thought of to call her.

The tension created by the mutual hatred on both sides caused a few other shoppers to stop and watch for at least one second. Draco was in the process of defending his last name from association with the dark arts, and it was amusing to you that he could piss off Harry just by barely opening his mouth.

“And I’d like to see you walk in these.” You showed off your heeled shoes to Granger which you noticed bugged her. “You’d probably trip and break your ankle in one step.”

Then you both went off, mirroring Draco and Harry. It could have gone on for much longer, but a large figure that appeared made the three Gryffindors tense and freeze.

“I really hope these blood traitors aren't giving you two any trouble.” Lucius’ voice rang out, him now standing behind you both with his wife.

“They were speaking negatively about us.” You stated with irritation, but with a hint of a smug smile.

Narcissa put her hands on her son’s shoulders protectively. "Forget them, dears. They are not worth your time."

"You're right mother, they're not at all." Draco held his nose in the air and began to walk off with Narcissa.

Lucius glared at the three, “Do not ever disrespect my future daughter-in-law. Come along, (Y/N).” The man lead you away from them, you still holding the textbooks you and Draco needed.

That comment made you blush, but it put a smile on your face once you saw the trio’s expressions; in some state of disbelief and jaws slightly slack. So you followed Lucius with your head held high.

~~~~

It was now September first, and the Hogwarts Express was scheduled to leave any minute now, but Narcissa’s bone crushing hug was preventing you from getting on the train.

“Mum, let her go.” Draco rolled his eyes and tried to pry his mother’s arms off of you.

She eventually did, but took your shoulders to look at you, "You watch over him, alright?"

"I will." You laughed.

Draco grabbed you hand and you both jumped onto the train just as it was leaving. You looked back and waved to his parents.

“We love you! Stay out of trouble!” His mother called one last time before they were out of sight.

"Why does mum have to be so embarrassing sometimes..." Draco mumbled under his breath as he pulled you along the hall to find an empty car.

"Because it's her job to embarrass you." You giggled, and he shook his head.

Once you found an empty car and settled in, you both sat down for the long train ride. You leaned your head on Draco's shoulder, and he let out a breath of amusement. You knew he was smirking, with content.

"You can take a nap if you want, darling." Draco chuckled, seeing how comfortable you have become now cuddling up to him.

"I could~" You sighed, now wrapping your arms around his torso, "wake me up when we get there..."

Draco smiled, placing one hand around your waist and the other on top of one of yours. He kissed your temple, and made a mental note that if Crabbe and Goyle wanted to share a car with you both, he wouldn't let them wake you.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #slytherin #slytherin reader #draco malfoy x you #malfoy x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter reader insert #tom felton #draco #harry potter

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gloves94 · 4 years

Text

Rumor Has It... [Zuko x Wife!Reader]

Anonymous Requested:

Girl I just got done reading the comics and Zuko with Kiyi IS THE CUTEST THING EVER!!! Can you pleaseee do a one shot where it’s Zuko x reader with their child??💕💕💕💕

Rating: PG Warnings: Fluff! Words: 1281 Pairing: Zuko x Fam!Reader / Pregnant!Reader A/N: I got a little carried away Anon, hope you like it! (And yes- Zuko and Kiyi are hella cute)

This all started with an ill rumor.

Fire Lord Zuko was sitting on his throne. Advisors came in and out of the room with proposals and hearings that he had to hear and after a long day he was mentally exhausted from running his country.

Behind him on either side of the throne stood his Kyoshi Warrior bodyguards, Suki and Ty Lee. They too had a headache from listening to the same rambling of everything that was wrong with the Fire Nation in the post-war reconstruction period.

A merchant that had requested an audience with the Fire Lord was inquiring for a business license in order to sell cabbages in the Fire Nation. It was such dull jargon, so much that Ty Lee couldn’t resist striking a conversation with Suki.

“Hey,” She whispered. Suki turned her eyes in her direction standing perfectly still remaining on guard, eyes fixed on the cabbage merchant. “Don’t you think (y/n) has been acting a little strange?” She spoke in a hushed tone unaware that Zuko’s ears perked at the mention of his Fire Lady. No longer listening to the cabbage merchant he listened to Ty Lee’s words attentively. Suki simply arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, I mean she’s been eating these really weird foods. The other day she had me try a mango with honey and hot sauce, it was disgusting. You know you’d think she’s pregnant or something.”

Suki’s eyes went wide and she turned to face her friend giving her a silencing look.

“(Y/N) is pregnant?!” Zuko coughed out loudly making all eyes in the room turn to his wide-eyed expression.

Everybody was dismissed from the throne room. The cabbage merchant was granted the permit that he needed and happily left.

“No,” Ty Lee rolled her eyes innocently at her friend. “That is not what I said. All I said is that she’s acting like she could be. I mean her aura is pinker than usual-“ She was interrupted by Suki who told her to shut up elbowing her roughly now standing beside her.

“You can’t just say things like that Ty Lee!” She reprimanded. “This is how rumors get started. Right Zuko?” She paused waiting for the Fire Lord’s answer. “… Right?”

Both turned to see Zuko who had gone completely mute. There was a growing smile on his lips and a dazed expression on his glinting golden eyes.

“Oh no…” Suki muttered looking at the daydream expression on his face. “Oh, no, no, no, no….” She repeated approaching him.

“Zuko,” Suki began touching his shoulder hoping her touch would make him snap out of his daze. “Nobody is pregnant. It’s just talk.” She glared at Ty Lee who smiled sheepishly. Suki’s words went in through one ear and out from the other. It was too late; the hopeful idea had already been planted on his head…

Xxx Zuko watched his wife intently as she ate next to him. She seemed to be eating her meal just fine. He didn’t think he could see auras or whatever the hell it was that Ty Lee was talking about. “Want to try my new sauce?” She suddenly said. “It goes great with- well everything.” (Y/N) said leaning in close and putting a bottle of a strange looking sauce with a pungent smell before him. It smelled awful. He was definitely not trying that.

He couldn’t help but smile lovingly at her. He couldn’t think of a good reason why she would keep such good news from him but decided to respect her silence. “What?” She asked a little confused and self-conscious at the endearing look he was giving her. “Nothing,” His smiled widened a little more as he reached for her hand on the dining table entangling his fingers with hers.

Xxx

Over the next couple of days Zuko had been acting odd, like really, really, odd.

(Y/n) couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

He was constantly hovering over her whenever she attempted to manage the simplest of tasks and had ordered servants to do whatever and everything for her. He had also been extra attentive and protective over her, holding her close whenever he could, especially at night and even offering generous foot massages whenever she did her late-night reading.

She found it odd but wasn’t one to complain. That was until one night.

(Y/n) calmly sat on their bedroom’s maroon living room. She was presently enjoying an evening’s glass of wine while reading a book. She was so engrossed in her novel that she didn’t even hear her husband walk into their bedroom.

Zuko stopped in his tracks when he saw his wife consuming her alcoholic beverage and immediately freaked out rushing to her side.

“What are you doing?!” He exclaimed as he jogged to her side almost tripping over the carpet. Nervously, he reached for the chalice of wine and took it from her hands and away placing it on a coffee table nearby. She raised an eyebrow confused at his actions. “Reading?” She guessed. “Enjoying a glass of wine?”

“You-You shouldn’t be drinking that. It’s not good for the baby.” He said cautiously sitting on the carpeted floor next to the sofa; his hands reaching for hers.

She blinked twice and shook her head lightly. Had she heard him correctly?

“What baby?” She drawled out slowly still perplexed at his behavior. He focused his warm eyes on her face, stroking the back of her hand gently. He looked at her just as confused. “Our baby.” He smiled at her so endearingly she could’ve just melted on the spot.

She gave him a dumbfounded look. Looking at his face seeking for any hint or clue of what he was talking about. And then it hit her. That’s why he had been acting so weird… She sat up slightly brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

She looked down at her body, sure maybe she had put on a little weight, but this?

“But- I’m not pregnant...” It sounded almost like a question.

Zuko’s expression faltered, his eyebrows knotting, eyes dropping in disappointment. He should’ve known better. He knew that it was only a rumor, but a part of him… A part of him wanted it to be true. To be real… “Hey, what’s wrong?” She asked turning to him and taking his face in her hands. Raising it so he’d look at her. “Nothing,” he answered quietly still not meeting her eyes. “I just… I thought…”

She was patient waiting for him to explain himself.

“I thought we were about to start our family.” He sighed standing up

“I didn’t know you were ready to start a family,” she said also rising to her feet.

She didn’t know that he was ready for this step in their lives, starting a family. Phew, it was a big deal. She also didn’t know that he wanted this so badly. The blow of the news still reflected on his face.

“Hey,” She said wrapping her arms around his neck. “It’s never too late to start,” the slightest of smirks curled the edge of her lips.

His eyes went a little wide at the meaning of this. Broad smile once again blooming on his face. He hugged her back his lips catching hers.

xxx

Some months later Suki and Ty Lee received news that the Fire Nation was expecting their Crown Prince or Princess to arrive anytime now.

“Well,” Suki shrugged at the news. “Guess the rumors were true!”

Xxxxx 6 Years Later xxxxx A small girl ran the long corridors of the Fire Nation’s Royal palace. An excited look on her face as she ran towards the palace’s entrance as fast as her legs could take her. An excited look on her eyes, broad smile on her face.

Sometime later she spotted the objective of her trek.

Fire Lord Zuko had just returned from a business trip with the Avatar to the United Republic of Nations. He was exhausted from his journey across the ocean and back. The only thing he wanted to do was enjoy a cup of tea and sink into his bed with his wife.

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” He heard loud shouts echoing the corridors’ red walls.

He pushed the exhaustion to the back of his mind when he saw his daughter running towards him looking more excited than ever. “You’re back!” She cried out giddy with excitement before tackling his legs in an embrace.

“There’s my Princess!” he grinned broadly at the embrace and lifted the young girl holding her up in his arms. “Daddy, I missed you!” She said wrapping her arms around his neck hugging him tightly and to think he had only been gone for ten days. “I missed you too,” he smiled back at her and planted a kiss on top of her head. He gave a look to the guards that were escorting him, and they left on command. “Now, where did you come from? Where is your mother?” He asked gently pushing several strands of messy hair out of his child’s forehead.

The young girl ignored his questions.

“Dad! I want you to meet my new doll,” she said pointing in the direction of her bedroom. “I’d love to meet her, but we have to find your mom first. I haven’t seen her in some time and want to say hi to her too.” He explained sighing at the end. “She’s fun!” (D/Name) spoke referring to her doll. “I named her Kiyi!” “But that’s Aunt Kiyi’s name,” Zuko looked at her in surprise at the odd choice in name. “I know, but it’s a good name!” She insisted. “That, she’d agree too.” He nodded briefly thinking of his younger sister.

As he walked with his daughter in his arms he passed by the palace’s central garden. The one in which he had spent many pleasant afternoons with his mother feeding the pond’s turtle ducks. He stopped in his tracks and looked at the tree next to the pond and then at his princess. “You know what… Mom can come find us.” xxx “One time I threw a bread at a turtleduck and its mom came and bit me,” Zuko explained as he tossed a piece of bread to the turtleduck family on the pond. Both him and the princess had been sitting there for some time now enjoying the cool shade under the garden’s tree, sharing the intimate family moment. She couldn’t help but laugh at her dad’s anecdote. “Like this?” She said taking the large loaf of bread and aggressively tossing it at a little turtleduck making the poor thing go underwater. The mother quacked angrily and approached them. “No! Not like that!” He saw the mother duck approach and lean forward to bite his child and instead stuck his hand. He winced slightly at the discomfort and shook off the animal’s beak. He would never allow anybody to touch or harm his princess. “No! Dad!” She cried out concerned reaching for him. “Are you okay? Why did it do that?”

“Because you hurt her turtleduckling. That’s what parents do. We defend our turtleducklings.”

“Oh,” she deflated slightly. “I’m sorry dad. It’s my fault you got hurt,” she apologized lowering her head. “Just be more gentle next time,” he said laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. “If not, you’ll have to face the mother turtleduck’s wrath!” He cried out before abruptly sinking his fingers into her sides tickling her.

(Y/n) watched the warm scene as she stepped into the garden. She wanted to approach the two people she loved most in this world but didn’t want to interrupt the endearing scene she was witnessing.

She’d never get enough of those two. It wasn’t enough to start the day with them. To struggle trying to get their daughter to eat her vegetables only for Zuko to sneak some dessert to the princess without (Y/n) noticing, although she did, she just pretended not too. Even finishing the day with (D/n) sneaking into bed with her parents after they’ve put her to sleep.

“Mom!” (D/n) suddenly cried out snapping her out of her train of thoughts.

“There you are,” (Y/n) said approaching the two of them. She saw her husband bending over still holding his daughter’s sides in a tickling embrace.

“She’s been asking about you all week. You spoil her too much,” she shook her head with a slight smile and joined her little family kissing her husband’s cheek. “Welcome back, the three of us missed you.” She said sitting next to him running a hand through her daughter’s hair.

“Three of us?” He looked at her confused. She simply smiled, the cheeky grin on her face growing even wider. It was then that it hit him. He couldn’t help himself, overjoyed he brought his wife in for a loving embrace. “I’m so happy!” He spoke against her hair thrilled at the thought of a new person joining their growing family.

The best part of it all was that this time it wasn’t a rumor.

xxx

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scentedsongrebel · 4 years

Text

Homecoming

Pairings: Steve Rogers × Female! Indian!Reader

Summary: You bring Steve to Mumbai to meet your Family.

Warnings: None I guess.. Some Indian references, talking in Hindi but side by side translations, fluff, tell me if I miss any.

Word count: 4620

A/N: Hey guys! So this was inspired by @pies-writes-and-more' s story Makeshift Thanksgiving dinner (Its amazing go check it out). And ever since I read it I wanted to write one like that myself with an Indian reader. We all need some representation.

I have tried to make it as natural as possible with all the things I do when I visit Mumbai. There were so many things I wanted to add but couldn't at the moment. Maybe I can add that in a possible sequel where Steve learns about Diwali?

I hope you guys like it!

This story is not edited yet

"You look perfect already you know that right?" Steve says, crouching down to get to your level, pressing your cheeks together and looking in the mirror in front of which you stand, trying to decide the best hairstyle

"Shhh" you shush him and he just rolls his eyes "its been a while okay, I'm just scared"

"From your own mother?" He says taking hold of your shoulders and turning you to look at him "from what you told me, she doesn't seem that strict"

"She is not" you shake your head "its just me, I kinda feel guilty for being gone for so long"

"Hey" he says moving his hand to caress your cheek "its gonna be alright. She knows it was important. And from what you have told me, she did encourage you and its been what two years"

"That's a long time for us Steve"

"But now look at you and the success you have achieved, she will be proud"

You nod your head and give him a small smile

"Thank you" you wrap your arms around his neck and he moves forward to take hold of your waist and pull you in for a long heated make out session

When you pull back, you look at him, breathlessly bringing your pointer finger in front of his face

"Remember do not--"

"Kiss you in a public space or in front of your family" Steve continues, shaking his head "I know"

You hit him on the shoulder lightly, an offending smile on your face

"Its important information"

"I know" he gives you a small smile, taking your hand in his and moving towards the exit gate of the quin jet

"Mumbai here we come!”

----------------

"I need to take something over" Steve says through the blaring of horns of the cars around as he sits besides you on the rickshaw "My Ma always said to take wine or some flowers when visiting a dame's house"

Your eyes widen and you shake your head vigorously

"No! No wine and no beer"

"Okay?" He looks at you uncertainly "I can't go there empty handed"

"Why?" you ask, knowing the answer but still teasing

"Because its manners and well" he blushes a little "I wanna impress her.. Okay?"

"You wanna impress my mother" you laugh "isn't she a little young for you?"

"Ha ha ha very funny" he nudges your shoulder as a scooter honking loudly passes beside your vehicle

"Sorry" you say, laughing "couldn't help it. And don't worry" You place a hand on his shoulder "I got it covered"

---------------

You ask the rickshaw driver to stop at a place a little away from your house and get down, paying in accordance to the meter.

Steve gets out after you, pulling all your luggage out and looking around at the busy road, observing the countless shops that line both the sides.

The narrow street has a divider in the middle that separates the vehicles going in opposite directions. Along the footpath, where countless pedestrians walk countless shops line the entire perimeter as far away as he can see.

There are book stores with books lying on a counter, jewelry stores, bakeries, toy shops, an umbrella stand, a small shop that seems to sell grocery items and so many more, Steve can't even name them all.

You look at him as he looks around the street, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to take it all in.

You are so thankful for Nat and the Bionic mask she provided you with as no one recognizes Steve. To them he is just some random white man and not Captain America.

He does get double takes and stares from locals not used to seeing foreigners in this part of the city but you can have that as long as 'Captain America in India' does not become trending news. This is to be a peaceful trip.

"Follow me and if you get lost" you dig in your pocket, producing a business card "Here, this is my Mom's just show it to someone and ask for directions to her house"

"Can't I just call you?" He asks confused

"Call me?" You exclaim "I don't currently have an Indian Sim card, its at my mom's house. Do you know how much an international call costs?"

"So you would rather I have to hunt for your mother's house in a place I don't even know the language of, rather than call you for help"

"Okay fine" you roll your eyes "just call me and if for some reason your phone does not have signal just ask a shopkeeper if you can make a call. They would be happy to help. And DO NOT use the poor guy's phone to make International calls. You have my sister's number just call her okay?"

"Got it" he gives you a fond smile "Calm down"

"I am calm" he rolls his eyes "I mean, its just, its an unknown city for you and it can get crazy sometimes"

"I am from New York doll" he smiles "I know crazy"

You just shake your head

"or so you think"

You motion towards an area crowded with people in the middle of which sits a man with a big wok cooking something.

"Stay here and take care of the luggage" you say before pushing through the crowd and ordering 15 vada pavs. Steve looks at you with his eyebrows raised as you come back back to stand besides him as the guy prepares your order

"I don't know what this thing is but 15?"

"Well its called vada pav, its kind of like a umm... patato cutlet in bread with some chutneys but better" you say, giving him a small smile, moving ahead as the guy gives you 2 before going to pack the rest. You give one to Steve and bite on your's. He observes you before biting into his.

"Oh wow" he says through a bite "its really good. Like a little spicy and sweet but its good"

You smile at him through a bite and a hiccup escapes your mouth "God I missed real spicy food" you say closing your eyes before looking up at him "if its too spicy, I can get you some extra sweet chutney"

Steve just shakes his head as he takes another bite "No, I kinda like this taste and its not that spicy"

"Me too" you smile "and I kinda already had him put extra meethi chutney in yours"

"Meethi?"

"Sweet"

He nods his head "I still don't understand Why we bought 15 of those"

"Well, 2 for us right now, 2 for me when I get home, 2 for my sister, 2 for my mother, 2 for my aunt uf she is home, 2 for you, then 1 for the maid or 2 if she wants , extra if some neighbours show up or if we want more and the rest for breakfast tomorrow" you say as you finish yours

Steve looks at you amused

"Trust me, they will all be over before you know it"

"You sure love this thing"

You just nod your head cheekily but before you can say anything else, the shopkeeper calls out to you, waving the bag with your order. You pay, take your order with a 'Thankyou bhaiya' and he gives you a small smile.

You come back to Steve showing him your polythene and smiling.

"All done" Steve pulls the bag out of your hand before you remind him of all the other luggage by his feet which he promptly picks up. You try to reach for your bag before he shakes his head and motions for you to just to lead the way and you look around to get another rickshaw. Super soldier or not there is no way you will let him walk this distance with all your luggage.

-------------------

"Okay one last time" you say as Steve pulls out the last bag from the rickshaw and he sighs

"The moment we see your mother, I gotta touch her feet and you will pretend you forgot to do it and she will be impressed by me"

You nod your head resolutely

"This is so stupid" he says grumbling as you take out your phone to call your sister

"You wanna impress her or not?"

He nods his head, sighing dejectedly.

You seem to realize you can't call her with international roaming so you ask Steve to wait as you look up towards your mother's apartment. Its only on the second floor so circling your hands to make a make shift microphone, you scream your sister's name

"TANYAAAAAAAAAAA" Steve visibly flinches next to you, moving to cover his ears

"Are you crazy???"

You wave a hand in his direction, screaming again. He looks around to apologize to any neighbors that may be disturbed but no one seems to care.

A moment later a girl comes up on the balcony of an apartment on the second floor and screams back

"KYA?" (What)

"SAMAN BAHUT HAI NEECHE AA" (there's a lot of luggage, come down) you scream and Steve winces again, looking at you in irritation

Your sister just rolls her eyes in irritation before muttering a "Theek hai" (ok) and running back inside

A minute later Steve sees her coming out of the main entrance on the building and giving you a tight hug. You hug her back, Something akin to tears forming in both your eyes as you hold on to each other.

She rubs your back before turning to Steve and frowning

"I thought you said your boyfriend was Captain America"

You just shake your head and move to pick up a suitcase as Steve picks up a bag and a suitcase. Your Sister picks up the rest of your stuff, sighing and moving towards the stairs.

---------------

The door to the apartment on the second floor is open as you make your way in, placing the bags down on the living room floor before taking your shoes off near the shoe stand.

Steve copies your actions but picks up both your shoes and his and places them on the shoe stand. You shake your head, smiling back at him as he gives you a teasing smirk.

He observes the beautiful living room of the house with shelves lining the front wall and a television in the middle of all the show pieces. An L-shaped sofa set sits against the back wall of the room and behind the sofa a gate partially opened to reveal the entrance to a balcony. The dinner table is pressed against a far corner besides the corridor that leads to the other rooms in the house.

On the main wall just above the TV he sees countless pictures of your family along with a framed one which he recognizes as your father from the pictures he had seen with a flower necklace around the frame.

He turns back to you but you are busy looking around the house searching for your mother before she comes out of the kitchen, wearing a beautiful yellow colored salwar kameez.

You move to run and hug her before your plan comes to mind and you give Steve a look.

He quickly moves ahead as your Mom reaches you both and bends down to touch her feet.

She looks at him confused for a moment before her lips break into a fond smile and she places her hand on his head.

"Jeete raho" ( live long)

Steve seems unsure as he looks at you and you give him a discreet nod as he stands up.

Your turn

"Oh no" you say feigning shock and bringing your hand to your heart "I completely forgot, thanks for reminding me Steve"

You say and then bend down to touch your Mother's feet to seek her blessings, missing the defeated sigh by Steve and eye rolling by your sister.

Your mother gives you her blessings too before shaking her head at you and crossing her arms, her eyes narrowed

She turns to Steve

"This her master plan?"

Steve looks at her, startled. Not because he is shocked she saw through your horrible plan but because she asked him. He looks at her a moment, a little scared before remembering he needed to win over this woman even if it meant pushing you under the bus.

So he just nods his head and your mother sighs

"And I was supposed to what be naive and stupid and think that you know how we great our elders here while my daughter, who I raised teaching all this forgot?"

Steve feels his heartbeat quicken by the look she gives him and he nods quickly

"I tried to tell her it was a stupid idea" he says and you look at him incredulously and mouth traitor.

Your mom shakes her head again

"She has been like this since she was young" your mother says, a smile gracing her lips "coming up with the most mundane ideas"

"Tell me about it" Steve rolls his eyes before realizing where he is and shaking his head and looking at your Mom apologetically "I-I didn't mean to-"

Your mother grins at him "Don't be so scared of me beta. I know she has not changed a bit"

"Mummaaa" you whine and she turns back to you, laughing

"Mera baccha" (my child) she says and then pulls you into her arms. You have to bend a little with your height difference but you quickly hug her back. Tears stream down your cheeks as she gently moves her hand up and down at the back of your head. The hug lasts a long while before she pulls away to look you over

"Kuch khaati hai ki nhi?" (You eat something or not?) She says taking hold of your face between her hands

You nod your head at her, rolling your eyes

"You've gotten so thin" she says

"Only to you. I've only lost a little weight because I started learning self defense from Nat"

Before your mother can say anything more, you are interrupted by your sister

"Nat as is Natasha Romanoff?" She says moving forward "Black Widow? She your friend because now I'm really doubting you. I was promised Captain America, I took a day off and he" She turns to Steve "No offense"

"None taken"

"He is not Captain America"

"You took a day off work because you wanted to meet me" you say laughing

"You tell yourself that" she mutters "now I don't mind if your boyfriend isn't a super hero but like why would you lie to me?"

You just roll your eyes before moving forward and hitting the back of your sister's head

"I hoped you would have learned some manners by now but clearly I was wrong"

She narrows her eyes and moves to hit you back before your mom interrupts you both

"Girls we have a guest over" she says "show some respect"

Before any of you can blame the other for the fight, Steve moves forward and removes the Bionic mask, revealing that he in fact is The Captain America.

Your sister's eyes widen to the size of saucers as she stares and stares and stares before Steve looks at you uncomfortably.

You sigh

"And she says she has manners" you say to tease her "Come on Tan, staring is bad"

This seems to wake her up from her daze and she looks at you in shock before turning back to Steve

"Wow dude, that was so cool"

"SHEILD equipment" you say "Didn't want to attract any unwanted attention on the way"

She nods in understanding before your Mom reminds her to bring water for you guys as you maybe thirsty after the journey.

Your sister seems to have just realized that and nods her head before running to the kitchen and coming back out with a trey and 3 glasses filled with water on it, she offers them to the two of you and then your mother and all of you gulp it down.

"You wanna go inside and rest for a while?" Your mother asks

"Actually we were a little hungry" you say looking over at Steve as he blushes, scratching the back of his head

"Oh yeah!" She says quickly rushing towards the kitchen "I have made so many things for you"

You try to offer your assistance but she insists you have come home after a long time and she wants to serve you today.

You furrow your eyebrows looking at your sister and she just gives you a smile back. It was very rare for your mother to be sentimental. But maybe being away from your child for so long does that.

As your mother comes to sit on the small dinner table after she has placed all the containers, bowls and plates in front of you guys.

Steve looks over at the dinner table, looking nothing short of an entire feast. He knows even he and Bucky can never finish this much food. Even together!

When he looks at you, he smiles at the wonder in your eyes as you too are busy browsing through the dishes set on the table, removing the lids to inspect the items.

"Haye! Mumma I missed your pav bhaji so much" you say moving forward in your seat and taking a serving of the brown curry or something Steve doesn't understand what it is on your plate.

Then you take a spoon full and put in on his plate

"This is called pav bhaji. This is the bhaji or ummm basically like mashed mixed vegetables and you eat it with this" you move forward to remove the plate that covers a bowl and produce a bun, picking it and placing it on his plate.

"Its the same bread we ate with the vada pav"

He nods at you, taking it all in. He has always had an interest in your culture and had tried to learn everything that makes you you.

He copies your motion as you break a piece out of your pav, folding it to make a spoon and then dipping it in the bhaji before eating it.

"This is really good" Steve says as he takes his third bite "You made this mam?"

Your mother goes to nod before you speak up

"Yup" you say between a mouthful "Mumma makes the best bhaji. Even when we lived in Delhi, all my friends loved her pav bahji"

Steve smiles "Well you can add me to the list of people that like this"

Your Mom gives out a small laugh and moves a plate in front of him

"You don't need to flatter me Beta" she says "I know you may not like this food so I ordered pizza for you"

Steve looks at her, his eyes wide "I no- I like this, there's no need to-"

"This is like the best pizza here" Your mom says smiling at him "Its Tanya's choice so I don't know how good it really is"

"Mummaaaa" Tanya wines as you all laugh

You turn to Steve "Tani has the worst choice when it comes to food"

"Yeah and you with your pineapple on pizza are the best food chooser"

"Hey! Its good"

"Okay girls stop" your mom says and you both stop to look at her "Fight when I'm not around"

You both laugh and nod at her before going back to your food.

Your Mom offers the Pizza to Steve which he promptly denies telling her he would like to have the things she made while you nod and say the same thing. Your sister on the other hand takes three slices.

The conversations goes as Steve gets to try more of the Indian food. The table is lined with things that your Mother prepared because they were your favorites. He tries some kind of small yellow colored rolls called khandavi, Steve couldn't for the love of himself pronounce it, there's samosas which he has had before in the Indian restaurant you took him too but these ones have cheese in them because you only ate them like this when you were young.

He specially loves the lassi which is a milk based drink and your mother tells him about how she learnt it after getting married to your father seeing as he was from the north where the drink is originally from.

When your Mother serves him a serving of the shahi paneer with some rice, Steve moves his spoon to take a bite before you hit your leg against his. He turns to look at where you sit besides him in confusion

You give him a look and he internally groans and sighs

"Oh I will eat this with my hands" he sighs discarding his spoon, and looking at his plate having no idea how to do this

Before you can initiate the next step of your plan your Mom laughs and turns to Steve

"She put you up to this?"

Steve immediately gives a nod, not even fighting for you and your Mom turns to you with narrowed eyes

"Leave the poor boy alone will you"

"I didn't-" you try to speak and she shushes you

"You have never in your life been able to eat chawal (rice) with your hands, how do you expect the poor boy to do that?"

Your Sister snickers while drinking her lassi.

"I eat rice with my hands" you try to defend yourself and your mother just snorts

"The floor and table eat more then you do when that happens" she says

You narrow your eyes at her as a smile comes to your lips but before you can say anything, she turns to Steve

"Beta, whatever else stupid plans she has given you just abandon them"

Steve nods his head, smiling "Yes mam"

"You can call me Aunty" she says with a sigh "Mam makes me sound like I'm at work"

"Okay Aunty" Steve grins, feeling like he is making progress as he dives back to eat his food having to close his eyes as the ras malai melts in his mouth.

The conversation around the table goes on as your mother enquires about his job and life during the war. She gives a nod of approval when he expresses how impressed he is of the work you do and assures her he would never have problem even if you work odd hours.

She tells him about how your father was a doctor too and your biggest inspiration to persue this field how no matter how sceptical she was about you going to the states alone, she knew your father would have wanted anything that would have been best for your career and she wants that too.

When you get teary eyed at the mention of your father, your mother just places her hand on yours and starts talking about how your brother is travelling around the world as a travel photographer and your sister's new project and how she is proud of all her kids.

"This will always be your house too now" she says as she finishes the last servings in her plate "Whenever you come to mumbai you have to stay here Steve, no hotel nonsense"

Steve looks at the kind woman and nods his head with a grin. Your mother then turns to you

"I know you were scared of bringing a white guy home and trust me I was scared of this day too but your father always assured me how smart you were and you would always chose the right guy. I guess he was right"

She sighs and Steve feels his heart stopping before he grins and looks at you. Your eyes are wide and you keep staring at your Mother before she nods her head towards the bowls on the table and starts to get up to discard her plates for washing, clearly indicating she won't say more about this topic.

You just smile to yourself before looking at Steve and giving his hand a small squeze.

-------------------

You reluctantly go with your sister, shooting Steve a worried look as she insists on catching up. Steve gives you a thumbs up as your sister pushes you inside the door that leads to her room, shooting him a wink. He gives her a grateful smile.

It was when you had gone inside the kitchen, helping your mother put the leftovers in the refrigerator that he had asked your sister for help in getting a moment alone with your mother.

She had looked at him suspiciously before he promised her a signed picture by Natasha herself and your sister was sold.

So here he stood, looking around as your mother shows him your brother's room. You hadn't even tried to ask if you two could share a room. Not a road you wanna go down honestly.

"Its been a while since Tarun was home but don't worry the bed should be comfortable enough, that boy spent weeks choosing the most perfect, comfortable mattress"

Steve nods, looking around the room. The queen sized bed is placed against the wall on the right side of the room, a side table with a table lamp sits besides it. A full length mirror cupboard is besides the larger cupboard against the right wall. The front half of the room and nunerous shelves lined with different pictures of different places around the world. There is a study table with a spare keyboard and some some below the pictures.

"If you need anything just call me" she says smiling at him and moving to leave before Steve stops her

"I umm, I needed to ask you something" he says uncertainly

She gives him a small smile, motioning for him to say it

"I umm I-" he shakes his head, digging into his bag and producing the velvet box he carries everywhere "I wanna marry her"

Your mother's eyes widen as she looks at the ring and then at Steve in shock

"And I need your permission"

That seems to shock her even more "My- My permission?"

He nods his head

"Don't you western kids just decide to get married and then tell the parents?"

Steve shakes his head at her

"Your approval means a lot to Y/n and to me too. If you feel I am not the one for your daughter, If you don't want me to ask her,I won't"

He says solemly

"I love her but I know how important her family, her culture is to her and I would never wanna take that away from her. I know she wants the proper Indian wedding and I would love if you help us organize that"

A lone tear falls down your mother's eye as she moves forward and places a hand on Steve's cheek.

"You are a good boy Steve" she says smiling up at him and he bends down a little so she can place her hand on his head "You have my blessings beta"

Steve lets out a laugh of his own at that

"Thank you aunty I won't disappoint you. I just hope she says yes"

She smiles at him

"She would not have brought you here if she weren't completely sure of you, trust me"

Steve looks at her thankfully

"You take care of her" she says moving to get out of the room "and you can call me Mumma"

A grin takes over Steve's face as he moves to do a happy dance.

"That is if she says yes"

And the curve of his lips flattens as your mother leaves, laughing on her way out.

--------------

Taglist: @kayteewritessteve

#steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers fic #steve fanfiction #steve x reader #steve rogers reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers × desi! reader #steve rogers × indian! reader #steve rogers fluff #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers × woc

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years

Text

A Place to Belong: Chapter 10 Little Miracle

Chapter 9

Read on AO3

The warmth of June brought with it the promise of new life. A new life for Claire as she settled into an existence without Jamie, and quite literally a whole new life waiting to burst out of her.

She was sitting in front of the mirror, pinning her hair up for the third time that morning, her stubborn curls refusing to cooperate as always. She had just about gotten it now; one more pin and she could finally be done with it. Then, suddenly, a familiar fluttering sensation made itself known in her stomach. She gasped, immediately releasing her grip on her hair and resting her hands on her abdomen. Her fragile updo unraveled, pins clattering to the floor.

She exhaled shakily, closing her eyes to revel in the feeling. It lasted a couple of seconds, then stopped for a brief moment, then lasted a few more seconds, and then it was over. Claire kept her hands on her stomach for a moment, realizing for the first time that it was, indeed, a small bump; no longer was her baby flat and intangible.

“You’re real,” she whispered reverently, opening her eyes to look down at him, caressing the small mound.

She decided to not bother with a full updo today, instead pinning back the front pieces. In somewhat of a daze, she dressed herself and floated down the hallway, down the stairs, and into the dining room.

“Morning, Auntie!” Wee Jamie blurted.

“Jamie, quiet yer voice,” Jenny said. “Yer Auntie is right there, she can hear ye just fine.”

Claire chuckled. “Good morning everyone.”

“Well, aren’t you all aglow this morning,” Jenny said. “What’s the occasion?”

Claire sat down next to her, unable to stop herself from beaming. “I felt him.” She pressed her hands into her stomach.

“Oh, did ye?” Jenny broke into a grin. “Is he moving now?” Jenny put her hands atop Claire’s.

“No, not at the moment. He interrupted me while I was doing my hair.”

“Ah, already a trouble maker, then,” Jenny teased. She gazed at Claire lovingly. “Being wi’ child suits you, Claire. You really are glowing.”

“I’m just…so relieved.” Claire quickly wiped her eyes before the tears could trickle down. “Obviously I know it takes time before you really feel anything, but I spend so much time imagining the worst, so to feel him…alive. It’s…indescribable.”

Jenny’s smile widened even farther, if it was possible. Mrs. Crook entered with breakfast just then. Maggie was now insisting on no longer eating in her mother’s lap. She was sitting next to her, though, and still needed assistance in breaking food into small enough pieces so that she didn’t choke on it. For this meal, however, she was perfectly capable of spooning her own parritch into her own mouth, though not without leaving slop for Jenny to wipe up from the table. She also wasn’t really sitting; instead she was all the way up on her knees in order to reach anything.

And then, again, even as Claire reveled in the togetherness of her family, in the comfort and joy of feeling her baby inside of her, she still found herself glancing across the table, expecting to find those deep blue eyes, mad with joy for the confirmation of their baby’s life. She swore at certain moments she could really see that mop of red, flashing in an instant as he reached over to help his nephew.

It was strange. She was not any less happy than she had been. It wasn’t as if thoughts of Jamie had tainted the morning’s joy. Rather, it was as if those thoughts reminded her of something that was missing. Like suddenly remembering she was only wearing one sock. How could she not have realized that something was missing?

“You know,” Claire said abruptly, not even aware herself that she’d said it until she heard it reverberate back into her own ears. “In Paris, when we were falling asleep, Jamie would stay awake for hours just…rubbing my pregnant belly. Or maybe he wasn’t even awake, maybe he was doing it in his sleep.” She looked up from her food at Jenny, smiling. “He was in awe of it all. It was…I loved seeing him like that. Like a little boy.”

Jenny smiled. “He loved all my bairns like they were his own. It must have made him mad wi’ joy to see ye carrying one of his own.”

“He really did love children,” Claire said, finally feeling a twinge of sadness. “He wanted so badly to be a father.” Jenny nodded. “He loved her so much, even when she was this tiny. He even used to…talk to her.” Claire could not help but smile at the memory.

“And he’s talking to this one, too,” Jenny said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “They say that wee ones can hear spirits, angels. Especially when they’re still inside ye. And I’ll bet he talks his wee ear off.”

Claire laughed at that. “Yes, I’ll bet he does.”

Jenny gave her shoulder a squeeze, then returned to her parritch. “It does my heart good to hear ye speak of him, Claire.”

Claire paused her spoonful. She realized then that this was perhaps the first time she’d spoken of him. Talk of Jamie for the past several months had been in reference to his corpse, his lifeless body. But that was not him. His love for his nieces and nephew, his adoration of his wife and children, that was him.

Claire smiled at Jenny. “Me too.”

Breakfast finished and Ian took Fergus to the fields. Ian was finally walking somewhat normally, Claire having checked on the bullet wound recently and deemed that it was healing just fine.

“Claire,” Jenny said as they helped Mrs. Crook gather the dishes. “I have something for ye.”

Claire’s eyes narrowed at her questioningly.

“Come on upstairs wi’ me.”

They handed the dishes off to Mrs. Crook, and Jenny pulled Claire up the stairs and into the Laird’s room. A flood of memories came crashing into her as she took in the room. Nothing had changed in here since she’d been here with Jamie, when he was Laird, and she was his Lady, and they’d held each other in that very windowsill, conceived Faith in that very bed. Nothing had changed, and yet everything had changed.

Jenny sat Claire down at the foot of the bed and then went to the wardrobe to fish something out of the back. Grinning, Jenny sat down next to Claire and presented her with a small bundle wrapped in white linen.

“For the bairn,” Jenny said proudly.

Claire took it in her hands and unwrapped the cloth, revealing a knitted white lamb, with stitching for a mouth and nose, and little black buttons for eyes. “Oh, Jenny,” Claire said. “It’s beautiful.” She turned it over in her hands to look more closely, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw the bow around its little neck.

“Is that…”

“Aye,” Jenny said. “From Jamie’s tartan.”

Claire reverently ran her fingers over the bow, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Figured the bairn ought to carry his father wi’ him somehow. No’ to mention I couldna bear to bury the only Fraser tartan we have left. Had to keep a piece of it for us, ken.”

“I…” Claire finally looked back up at Jenny. “I’m moved…beyond words, Jenny…”

“Then come here.” Jenny pulled her into a tight embrace. “The bairn will know him. I’ll make certain of it.”

Claire sniffled. “I will, too.”

“And he’ll know himself, as well. We’ll no’ let him forget he’s a Highlander. I’ll teach him Gaelic in the priest hole if I have to.”

Claire chuckled, and it morphed into a sigh. “I’m counting on that.” She released Jenny from their embrace, but they still held onto each other. “I’m afraid I’ll be rather useless on that front.”

“What’s an Auntie for, hm?” Jenny said, smiling despite the fresh tears still lingering on her cheeks.

Claire looked down at the little lamb in her hands. “You know, Lamb was my uncle’s name, the uncle that raised me.”

“Lamb?”

“Well, Lambert. I called him Uncle Lamb,” Claire explained, then exhaled, laughing. “If he could see me now…”

“He’d be proud,” Jenny assured her, obviously missing Claire’s meaning.

“He would,” Claire agreed, knowing that Uncle Lamb was watching her adapt and thrive in the strange world she’d fallen into using everything he’d taught her.

What would he think of Jamie, she wondered? He’d thought very highly of Frank, being that he was a professor as well. He’d likely be incredibly fascinated by Jamie for what he represented, the perfect example of the extinct Highland Warrior. He’d be astounded when comparing her ruggedly handsome, enormous, wild Scotsman to the slender, intellectual history professor.

Frank…there was someone she hadn’t thought about in a while. She’d thought of him abstractly of course, of saving his existence from being wiped away, but she hadn’t really thought about him since Jamie had given her the choice between Frank and his time, or Jamie and his.

What must he think? Did he assume she was dead, or with another man? Was he able to move on, find happiness with someone else as she had, short lived as it had been? She could have had those answers if she’d kept her promise to Jamie. But, God…how would she have explained this? How could she have told him she was carrying another man’s child, a man who’d been dead for two hundred years? How could she ever move on knowing that Fergus, Jenny, Kitty, Maggie, wee Jamie, Ian, all of them, were dead and gone for two hundred years?

She prayed that Frank was happy and loved. Because even though the happiness and love she’d found with Jamie was gone, she’d found new purpose as a mother, sister and aunt. Despite her sorrow, she was still fulfilled, and in some fleeting moments, even happy. And to think of him suffering, completely in the dark about everything, while she existed with some semblance of happiness, made her feel deep pangs of guilt.

“What’re ye thinking about, sister?” Jenny’s voice brought her out of her reverie.

“My first husband, actually,” Claire admitted.

“Lived with him in Oxfordshire?”

“Yes.”

“Do ye miss England?”

“From time to time,” Claire admitted, though England had never really been “home,” per se. More what she missed from time to time was the life she’d had to leave behind in a different century. “But I wouldn't trade this, the life I’ve made with Jamie, all of you, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“Not even to be safe and well fed in England?” Jenny cocked an eyebrow.

“No. Not even for that.”

And it was true. She’d had more than one chance to leave behind the suffering in this time, in Scotland itself, and given the same options over and over again, she’d still make all the same choices.

Claire smiled down at the lamb again. “Now what do I do with this little one before my own little one arrives?”

“Once Kitty adjusts to sleeping in a bed ye can keep it in the cot, ready to sleep beside yer wee one,” Jenny said. “But we’ll be lucky if that one ever decides to leave the cot.” She rolled her eyes. “Ye ken how she is.”

“Have you tried putting strawberry jam in her bed?” Claire said, hardly able to finish the sentence before succumbing to laughter.

Jenny guffawed. “Now there’s an idea!” Then she sighed. “It won’t be long before there isna even any strawberry jam left. The crop isna doing well, ye ken. We don’t grow any here, but Ian says word in the village is that there willna be any berries at all this year. They’re saying the same in Edinburgh.”

Claire nodded sadly. “The famine is coming.”

“Aye…”

“We’ll be alright. So will all the tenants. The potatoes will save them,” Claire assured her.

“Aye. But what’ll I do about Kitty?” She rolled her eyes again.

“You’ll have to wean her off the jam like you’d wean a child off your breast,” Claire laughed as she said it.

“She’ll be the death of me, I ken it.”

“I pray mine isn’t as stubborn.” Claire placed a hand on her small mound again, smiling to herself. “Though I have to admit, I’d be a little disappointed if he wasn’t.”

Jenny chuckled. At that moment, he moved again, fluttering inside Claire’s womb. Claire gasped, and Jenny immediately touched her stomach.

“Can you feel it?” Claire whispered, as if it may stop if she spoke too loudly.

“Just barely, but it’s there.” Jenny looked up at Claire’s face, joyful. “There he is, Claire.”

“Indeed.” Claire smiled. As quickly as it began, it stopped. “Jenny?”

“What is it, sister?”

“Is it…wrong of me to feel…happy?”

“Wrong? Why the Devil would that be wrong?”

“I mean, I’m not always happy. In fact I’m usually empty, hollow…but sometimes, like when I can feel my baby…I’m overwhelmed with joy.”

“As ye should be,” Jenny said firmly. “It’s what Jamie would want ye to feel. Ye ken that.”

“I suppose…it’s just strange. I thought I’d never be happy again.”

“Yer a braw lass, Claire. Yer spirit is strong. My brother knew it and I know it.” Jenny stood, taking Claire’s hand and helping her up. “Come on, now, let’s find a home for wee Lambert,” Jenny said, a teasing grin on her face. Claire chuckled, allowing Jenny to pull her into her bedroom, where they decided they’d keep Lambert on the mantle for now.

Hope you don’t mind, Uncle. A stuffed animal for your namesake rather than my son.

Claire brushed her fingers over his tartan bow, winking at his button eyes. As long as the toy was loved by her child, she didn’t think he’d mind at all.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander au #claire fraser #fergus fraser #jenny murray #jenny fraser murray #ian murray #lallybroch

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roc-thoughtblog · 4 years

Text

Sense and Sensibility Readthrough Part 9

Chapter 12, Pages 49-54

Previously, Sir Middleton has started the Party Timez and Marianne is flirting it up with mysterious Mr. Charming. Meanwhile, Elinor has a sweet moment with Colonel Brandon where he alludes to a past love-related something, because they are both two lonely people watching a party.

I enjoyed this chapter, because Margaret finally opened her mouth and only gold came out. :D You little scamp, you have vindicated my small obsession with seeing you relevant in any form!

Readthrough below.

Chapter 12

AS ELINOR and Marianne were were walking together the next morning the latter communicated a piece of news to her sister which in spite of all that she knew before of Marianne's imprudence and want of thought, surprised her

Oh? OH? Marianne going to have many thoughts, head full of prudence?

by its extravagant testimony to both.

NOPE! Also, Austenism on first sentence of chapter, nice opening. I most creatively coined that for personal use and now I finally get to use it! Setup into unceremonious, and yet very extra, subversion that turns potential positives upside down. Anyway, Willoughby has given Marianne a horse, which she has accepted with zero thought into the Dashwoods' ability to keep it.

Elinor, has, of course, thought of all the things the family is lacking with regards to horse-keeping, including most prominently, a complete lack of a stable in which to house it. Was boutta ask, good Elinor answered my enquiry most quickly.

I have a friend who is a self-professed horse-girl, and many mutual friends who attest to not desiring to ride with her on account of it being quite dangerous. This isn't directly related to anything, Marianne just invited Elinor to ride her horse and I was suddenly struck by a memory of warring opinions on the risks of horseriding. Horse-girl's testimony to its relative safety was not aided by her own anecdote of having fallen off a horse onto her back once, and not being able to feel her neck for a while, or something similar to that effect (don't worry, she is fine). I imagine Elinor would be horrified.

Marianne brushes off all of Elinor's concerns in... most short-sighted fashion. No Marianne, do not keep a horse in any old shed. This reminds me of when my aunt kept her kittens in the bathroom. Bad. Awful. Don't consider keeping animals if you can't be bothered to house them properly. :(

Of course, Marianne draws the line when Elinor claims she doesn't know Willoughby well enough to receive a horse from the man;

"You are mistaken, Elinor," said she warmly, "in supposing I know very little of Willoughby. I have not known him long indeed, but I am much better acquainted with him, than I am with any other creature in the world, except yourself and mamma. [...] I should hold myself guilty of greater impropriety in accepting a horse from my brother, than from Willoughby. Of John I know very little, though we have lived together for years; but of Willoughby my judgement has long been formed."

Marianne has a great talent for speaking warmly. :'D

Ouch girl you have been hit hard. The infatuation, it speaks through you with a megaphone.

It's really fascinating how big an effect love and infatuation seems to have on apparent closeness. Like at some point it really does cross over the line to being genuinely close, but I feel like I observe a lot of the time, before that point, that people tend to... trick themselves into thinking they are close? Infatuation has a remarkable ability to warp the sense of emotional proximity between people, maybe even just through the firing of emotions on all cylinders.

One memorable conversation I will always return to was when a friend of mine referred to their boyfriend of a few months as their "best friend" in the most casual, natural way. A few months didn't seem like a long enough time, and when I asked them, they did suddenly realise they weren't quite there yet... I find it very interesting how love can so easily dominate social lives.

Anyway, Marianne has jumped to Big Conclusion about how well she knows Willoughby. It's a good thing he's probably a nice guy really, but this is also likely one of the ways predatory relationships can take root so uh, look after your friends I guess. Sometimes when this kinda emotion takes hold they need a second opinion to keep them grounded.

Elinor thought it wisest to touch that point no more. She knew her sister's temper. Opposition on so tender a subject would only attach her the more to her own opinion.

Yeah, Elinor has the right idea. Backfire effect is real, and it's not something you want to mess with when you really need to convince somebody of something. You definitely need to go around with a different approach... which Elinor does, nice! By appealing to Marianne's concern of potentially greatly burdening her mother, who would of course consent enthusiastically to a horse, but also be the most inconvenienced by its maintenance.

Marianne relents most sadly. :(

She tells Willoughby next she sees him that she can't take the horse, because of reasons. Willoughby is disappointed, but tells her that the horse is still hers, once the time arrives that she can keep- he named the horse Queen Mab? Horses. Always with funky names. Is that a historical figure? FAIRY FROM ROMEO AND JULIET! Please Mr. Willoughby! You are every bit the drama queen as Marianne. You are not so star crossed!

O-oh. Elinor overhears everything, and also realises now that they are in fact a couple? By the way Willoughby pronounces Marianne's first name, and the fact that he uses it at all. Oh, that she is now absolutely certain of it, and in no way surprised. Yeah that makes sense.

GASP! MARGARET SPEAKS!

Alright this whole sequence is gold, I dunno how to relate it here but it's a quick and fun read. Reading being generally fun, but quick doesn't usually come naturally to me. Also means I don't take notes.

Margaret thinks the two lovebirds will be married soon and Elinor is hilariously shutting her down for crying wolf about pictures that turned out to be of great-uncles. But this time Margaret has witnessed Willoughby beg for, and acquire, a lock of Marianne's hair, for romantically sentimental reasons I personally do not understand but have witnessed enough to accept without question. Because, y'know, children don't count as witnesses to secret emotional dalliances you don't the adults to see. And the account is specific and detailed enough that it doesn't seem like something a kid would just make up.

And then we go on a hilarious tangent about how Margaret accidentally spilled all the beans on Elinor's love life to Mrs. Jennings for not knowing any better how to respond to questions. :'D The poor girl asks Elinor for permission to say, so now Mrs. Jennings knows somebody exists. And then Marianne drags herself into it to defend Elinor's feelings, but Margaret innocently reminds her that all the speculation was her’s to begin with.

"Margaret," said Marianne with great warmth,

GREAT WARMTH! This is greatest warmth of Marianne yet, I have never seen her so upset, I'm rolling. Poor Margaret is a little out of her depth with all the adults bugging her for gossip, and the more the sisters try to contain her the more slips out. You can't expect so much from a kid. :'D

Thankfully Lady Middleton saves all the Dashwood sisters by abruptly and deliberately changing the topic to the weather, followed by sensitive Colonel Brandon. Nice save, guys! Willoughby, good man, invites Marianne to start playing piano too. Elinor is saved, but still thoroughly shook haha. Poor girl is not of a heart that can deal with this assault.

Chapter concludes with a quick two paragraphs which I guess will set up the next chapter; they organise a party to go party at an estate belonging to Colonel Brandon's brother-in-law, because, Sir Middleton has partied in that place all too much and yet never enough. Party. Sir Middleton: Party man, does whatever a party can. What exactly do landed lords actually do again?

All this arranged with open carriages and sailing, and I assume cold provisions to imply a picnic; "rather a bold undertaking, considering the time of year, and that it had rained every day for the last fortnight -" HA. Well, despite his extensive partying experience, we are given to understand that Sir M. is still a slow learner. Oh well.

... I just realised I found Margaret to be so entertaining I didn't realise the story had like... used her as a connecting factor to completely transition the theme, setting and topic of the chapter halfway through. I feel like this is important to note, as for the most part chapters in this story seem to stick to exploring one specific topic or person. This particular chapter was somewhat all-over-the-place topic-wise (Marillouby confirmed, Elinor's beau’s existence revealed) and the only unifying factor was Margaret shenanigans, which I love, but she isn't relevant to the central plot in the same way the two other pieces are. On top of that, the chapter ends on an otherwise random note that they're going to another party at a place related to Brandon; this isn't something that necessarily needed to cap off this chapter as far as I can tell.

I guess what I'm wondering is, this slightly frankenstinian chapter; is it the result of combining two smaller segments too short to be chapters in their own right, or is it more like... a deliberately transitional chapter? That the chapter lacks a unifyingly plot relevant topic to explore, because it's only concern is for setting up pieces for coming chapters at the new estate party? I guess I'll find out soon.

#1700 words but no tangent in particular #so it must all be the work of the Great and Powerful Margaret Dashwood!#She's great! :D #Jane Austen #Sense and Sensibility #readthrough #novels

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ofmythsandmadness · 5 years

Text

i need a favour - five.

PART FIVE - dinner and a show - or in which, two dumbasses both struggling with the same emotional dilemma force themselves to continue their silly little game without acknowledging what’s really going on in their minds (or something like that). WORD COUNT - 4716. A/N - It’s been so long, I’m really sorry. I had zero inspiration for this chapter and struggled to even write 200 words...and then just sort of spent two+ weeks writing little by little until this happened. It’s not great, but it’s...it’s a thing. Just as reference - the relationship between the two sisters (as portrayed in the chapter) is tense and broken from unnamed past experiences. basically to sum it up, they were close as kids, but they didn’t have great parents, and both were just depending on each other. but then the older sister left y/n alone with them when she turned 18 and basically turned against her, becoming totally independent and renouncing her old life - including y/n. while the two are trying to have a relationship now (really just forced by her sister), it’s strained and not at all the same. and her sister really’s just a dick, it’s not entirely her fault but she’s a dick. so that’s that, on that. and that makes no sense...but it’s too early for me to make sense. enjoy.x

THANK GOD FOR HER SISTER’S WINE CELLAR.

Sure, she had mocked her silently plenty-a-time for it, believing it truly a waste of aesthetic space considering how little her sister drank - but Y/N was really singing its praises that night. Quite possibly, the best thing her sister had ever done.

“He’ll be here,” she promised, wincing as the red liquid slipped down her throat. “He’s just running late at work.”

That was complete bullshit. Really, she had no clue where the guy was - all she had gotten from Diego that day was a call two hours before heading over, a rushed conversation telling her he might be late and that she should go there on her own. Reassuring. But she could not explain to her sister that, no matter what the woman knew about the two of them.

Weren’t couples dinners supposed to be light-hearted, not, ‘my fake-boyfriend might be doing something super dangerous and stupid and I will have no clue until the hospital calls me because I’m still his emergency contact, even after bitchin’ and bitchin’ at him to change it’? She was not totally sure, but had a feeling that was not a good thing to mention over drinks with her way-too-eager-to-judge sister.

“He’s still coming, right?” the woman asked, a twinkle in her eye. “I mean, this isn’t just a joke on me, you do have a boyfriend?”

“Don’t be funny. He’s coming.”

“Good. I’m glad. And I mean that - I was worried about you, for a little bit.”

Y/N frowned. “Mm. Worried?”

“Sure,” her sister shrugged. Her tone was light-hearted, but there was a hint of malice behind it - because there always had to be, with her. “It’s been a while since the last guy...and I was just you know, worried that you just made the guy up to shut me up. Which is why I insisted on this little meeting happening sooner than later, so you couldn’t just pretend a guy up.”

She was not one for dramatics, but she was really close to throwing a glass, at that. Sure, her love life had been a tried and troubled tale, but it was not as bad as the woman made it out to be. Just because she did not run everyone past her sister, does not mean they did not exist. And okay, sure, they all turned out to be dicks and liars, but that did not mean -

Y/N sighed, letting her shoulders slump down and give up a little bit of the weight resting on them. Letting herself get riled up too early would be her downfall. So instead, she pretended to find it funny, letting a mirthless laugh slip through gritted teeth. “Yeah. Guess so. But uh...Diego’s good.”

“Mm. Well, I’m glad.” Her sister downed another sip of her water (she had referenced several times that she could not have alcohol - even though Y/N knew that, dammit). “How long have you two been actually together?”

“Um...couple we-months. Maybe two months.” That might be the wrong number. Shit. “Not too long.”

“Really? It always seemed like you two were, you know…” she gestured lamely with her hands, “you weren’t - you know - on the low?”

Y/N was about ready to chase Diego down herself, from pure irritation. “No.”

“No?”

“Just friends,” she shot back. “Like I told you, the relationship part’s a very new thing.”

Just before her sister could ask one more time something sort of totally invasive that made Y/N question her every decision, the doorbell rang. It seemed just maybe, her mumbled prayers (or veiled threats) for Diego to finally show his face, had been greeted by a miracle.

Y/N sprang to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, but-”

“-right back,” she repeated, already turning and walk-running to the foyer. Her eagerness for some relief had quickly beaten out her annoyance for him being so late, and she found herself smoothing her top, biting back a grin that was not yet deserved of him. She carefully swung the door open, catching the man on the other side mid-knock.

“You’re late.”

Diego shrugged, looking slightly sheepish as he offered up his hand full of...flowers?

Not what she had been expecting.

“Got held up. Would you believe it was just for these?”

“Uh...no - but why do you have them?”

“Knew I’d be late,” he explained, brushing past and into the home. His eyes left hers to trace the room, taking in the bright decor and sounds of laughter in the back. She could practically see the anxiety building behind his dark eyes, but he easily covered it with a short chuckle. “But, explaining to your sister what I was actually doing didn’t seem right. Flowers were an easy out.”

Y/N ignored the humourous adlib, seizing upon his other words, instead. “What exactly were you doing? Are you alright?”

“I’m good. Trust me,” he added, seeing the look on her face. He bared his teeth in a smile that more resembled a grimace.” You should see the other guys.”

“Dumbass,” she grumbled, even through a half-smile. She traced her hands over his face and upper torso, prodding to see if there was any pain - only to be swatted away seconds later. “Are you hurt?”

Diego just shrugged. “M’fine.”

“Diego-”

“-if we stay here workin’ out the details, your sister’s going to come around the corner thinking we’re bumpin’ uglies right on her weird doormat,” he hissed, once more pulling her hands from him. “If that’s what you want to go with, sure, but...”

She felt her face grow hot and inwardly cringed. Her head ducked down, an attempt to disguise any redness in her cheeks and she gestured forward. “Fine. Lead the way, Casanova.”

He just grinned and poked a calloused finger at her reddened cheeks, mumbling a ‘cute’ before making a beeline forward. Y/N was left open-mouthed in the hall. But with no time to consider yet another odd remark, she pushed ahead too, forcing herself to smile at the pair. One, already looking so much more uncomfortable than the other.

“Isn’t that sweet?” Y/N simpered, swallowing the bile brought up at the stupid, fake words. “I mean, you’ve known this idiot for years n’ years and yet he still shows up with flowers and all that.”

Diego shuffled back and threw an arm around her shoulders. He looked towards her, but strangely not really at her; like he was somewhere else completely. “Aren’t flowers a necessity for meeting a girl’s family?”

“Maybe if it was with her uptight parents,” her sister butted in, smiling like she was the goddamn Cheshire Cat, “but you know what? I’ll take these gratefully, necessary or not. They’re beautiful, Diego.”

Y/N smiled a little more at that. A little bit more genuinely. There was something nice, seeing two people she truly cared about interacting. Sure, her sister had known Diego for ages, after meeting him one night, post shitty fight - and post climbing through her window, blood dripping from almost every part of his body. But apart from brief interactions when one or the other was not in the right state of mind (booze or injuries or otherwise) they really did not exist in one another’s worlds. And sure, her sister was mostly a malicious, passive-aggressive asshole who somehow had grown up to be a copy of her mother even after hating her for most of her childhood, and probably was going to call Y/N later and make up so much shit on Diego. Just to be a dick.

And sure, this was all fake. But it was a little fun, pretending like she was actually taking a real boyfriend back to meet someone.

Maybe she needed to drink a little more, because that fantasy needed to drown. A-S-A-P.

“...wanted to be here,” floated through her thoughts. Y/N shook her head and drew herself back to reality, where her sister was discussing - what was she discussing? “But you know, guy’s been working overtime to cushion out the accounts. He’s eyeing a Christmas vacation, you know?”

Right. Andy, her husband. Her actual husband who genuinely loved her - and what was she supposed to do there? Shit. Right.

She forced herself to nod. “That’s sweet. Where are you two looking?”

The woman shrugged and looked back down to the pot she was stirring. “No clue yet. Somewhere warm, though. I don’t want to deal with the snow, and-” she paused to pat her protruding belly, “-I know mini me doesn’t either.”

Diego laughed at that. A fake laugh, sure, but it was pleasantly well executed. Maybe Allison’s acting abilities had rubbed off on her brother.

“When are you due?”

“February! But it’ll probably be early. Both his mama and aunt were, so…”

“Yeah?”

Her sister nodded eagerly. “Y/N a little earlier than me, though funnily enough, that’s the only thing she’s not been late to? I mean, you probably know that though. How criminally late your girlfriend is to everything?”

“You’re hilarious,” Y/N grumbled back. “But I’m not that bad.”

She stole a carrot and sank back against the counter, that time a little bit apart from Diego. His arms, now freed from resting around her shoulder, folded across his broad chest. “You just don’t understand. Sometimes, you gotta take a couple more minutes to be this much better than your annoying git of a sister.” Half a joke, half bitter sentiment bottled up and thrown back at her sister’s simpering smile.

“Really?” the woman scoffed. She shuffled away from the pots, ready to pour the thick stew into the bowls. “Please. You’re just jealous that I got all this way before you. And that it took you five more years n’ me to meet a guy that’ll actually put up with you, eh?”

Okay, so that stung a little bit more. Mostly because it was a little too true - even if she did not know it. Y/N forced a chuckle, still, because it was supposed to be funny. “It’s more me putting up with him than vice versa, I’ll have you know.”

“Hey,” Diego admonished. His voice shook a little, but only the littlest bit, a tremor only she could probably sense. “I’m a dream.”

“Sure you are, sweetheart.” She did not miss the flash of surprise at the pet name, feeling a sense of pride for catching him off guard. “Do you know how many shirts of mine he’s ruined because he’s just thrown everything in with his bloody shit?”

“Hey, be grateful he does laundry!” Her sister groaned. “I mean, Andy’s a dream, I love him to bits, but…”

And just like that, things were okay. Her sister was eager to talk about her own relationship, her life in general - and both Diego and Y/N were more than okay to let the focus remain on her. The less questions about them, the better. They could eat in some sort of peace, and pretend to care a little bit more about her workplace politics than they did. And unlike at the Hargreeves place, Y/N did not have to worry about planting an emergency smooch on her ‘boyfriend’ in order to save face.

But of course, things could not be that simple. Just as she had been hoping for an easy visit in and out, the woman’s eyes widened and she seemed to remember who was joining her for dinner. That this was not just a normal get-together where she could talk an ear off a ‘friend’ and kick them out an hour later.

“Sorry for talking so much,” her sister gushed, resting her spoon in the now empty bowl. “I swear, I haven’t shut up at all. I’m such a rude host.”

Y/N scoffed. “Please, it’s fine. It’s nice to hear what’s going on in your life.”

“Well, sure, but this is when I’m supposed to be grilling Diego and making sure he knows not to hurt you, ask all about your future plans, embarrass you - yada, yada, yada. I totally forgot - it just felt natural, you know? But whoopsie, on my part.”

Y/N and Diego shared a look of minor distress.

“But really,” her sister continued, oblivious to the tension growing, “I’m not that worried about him. Or you two. I knew you two were gonna have a thing from the start. Felt like it was just waiting for it to happen, you know?”

She laughed quietly, a little bitter. “Funny. Everyone seems to say that.”

“Do they really?”

She nodded again. “You’d be surprised. I-I mean, I was. Didn’t think that we were so, um...so obvious.” Obvious? More like out of a Hallmark Christmas special, from the way everyone gasped when they were told the two were not together. Really made a girl question-

“-well, probably ‘cause it’s true,” her sister shrugged, unknowingly interrupting yet another of Y/N’s inner monologues. She waved her piece of bread between the couple sitting across from her. “I mean, the way you two look at each other? I got to a point where I thought you two were already together, that I’d get a postcard from Vegas saying y’all eloped or something.”

“I wish,” Diego mumbled. But it was louder than he seemed to expect - at least, that was what his face said when both women looked his way. He swallowed and stammered for an answer. “I-I just m-m-m-mean, I had a thing for her for too long to count. If only I could have gotten a grip sooner.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, her hand finding his arm, squeezing lightly. “I should’a done the same. No sweat.” She looked his way, trying to make herself smile like those Hallmark movie women did. Her next words were softer, raspier as she struggled to get them out. “Guess we’re both just idiots...yeah?”

It was fake. Of course. There was nothing between them, no cheesy romance building that would lead them to a couple thousand fairytale moments afterwards. She knew that, he knew that - there was nothing between them, aside from mutual anxieties about screwing up their pretend relationship.

But the look he gave her, did not feel so fake. It was a little strange and a little too strong, like something in the way she said that made his heart twist like it did her own. His dark eyes trained on hers, slipping from them for a second to - did he look down, or was she just messing with her own mind?

“You two are seriously, so adorable. I swear to god, it’s disgusting and I love this so much.” Her sister, oblivious to anything happening in front of her, continued on. “You actually like her, yeah?”

“Yeah. Course.”

She nodded. “Good. Cause you know, not everyone can be as lucky as I have been..and somehow, my sister manages to attract the worst guys. Always after the same thing, then once they really know her, they scram.”

Y/N bit her tongue, holding back any retorts that might slip out. She knew what she meant to say, but it really didn’t work. And putting up with her insinuating that she just couldn’t get a guy to actually like her...while she was talking to a current guy? It was to be expected, sadly, but that did not mean it did not hurt.

“But you know what, Diego, I think you’re okay. I mean, you’ve stayed this long, right?” Her sister cackled - yes, cackled - at her own joke, while both Diego and Y/N sat in silence. “Ha - right?”

Y/N downed her second glass of wine and wished she could sink into the floor.

THE SECOND THEY WERE OUT OF HER SISTER’S house, and at a safe enough distance from it, Y/N finally let out the frustrated groan she had been holding back all night. She whirled away from Diego, catching just a glimpse of his confused expression before she let her facade be shattered.

“I regret ever, ever even suggesting we do this. You know what? I regret all of this. Lord - what was I thinking?”

A soft chuckle left his lips, quiet compared to aggravated shouts. “Was it that bad?”

“That bad?” She retorted. “Diego, that was like if Allison, Five and Luther all combined their DNA and created some super-being who then smoked a whole boatload of crack and decided to live in Suburbia and feed only on bragging and passive agressive remarks.”

“Mm. Might be an exaggeration.”

“I - barely but - come on, you didn’t see how bad she was?”

Diego shrugged and headed over to where he parked his car, her following suit after his silent gesture. “Maybe a bit.”

Y/N sank into the passenger seat with a snort. “She might as well thrown your stupid knives at you a thousand times over -- or - or something stupid like that. The shit she said? Good lord, I would have thought she was the second coming of your dad.”

“Y/N-”

“-I mean, she basically told me to my face that I wasn’t deserving of you of anyone? And that you were just gonna up and drop my ass soon enough. And then, insinuated to you that you should get ready, like I was a goddamn timebomb just waiting to go off! Like she knows me through and through - she doesn’t know jack shit about me. Nothing! That woman only cares about one thing, and that’s herself. Ever since she could leave home, she lost the ability to think of me as anything than a piece of work that she was burdened to guide. And anything something happens to her, she gloats about it. Her stupid job, her stupid husband and their stupid Christmas vacation - everything is so fucking stupid and amazing and I’m just a piece of fucking stupid shit!”

She did not mean to grow so heated, and had not even realised things were so bad, until her voice cracked at the end and she felt hot tears build in her eyes. Y/N gulped in air and scrubbed at her cheeks, brushing away any tear that slipped out. She did not even dare to look Diego’s way, suddenly ashamed at her childish outburst.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know - sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

She laughed bitterly, still biting back the angry tears. “No, it’s not. You just put up with me and her all night, and then I have to come and whine like this - I’m so-”

“-hey, a’right, stop there. Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do-” she paused to sniffle and lifted her head so she could watch his face, “-what?”

He sighed, suddenly looking very out of his element. And she could understand why; sure, the two of them had been through a lot, but it was unlike either of them to break down in tears in their car, bitching about their family - further than just their surface actions. Normally, it was pushed down or masked by bad jokes, they’d drink too much and ignore their familial issues because mentioning them were too painful. Only sometimes did they face the pain - and honestly, Y/N could not remember a time she had truly broken down over her sister with him.

“Can we just get out of here, please?” She tried a tearful smile. “Escape this suburbian nightmare, ‘fore I lose my dinner in your car?”

He just nodded and revved the car engine, a strange look in his eye as he turned away. It looked as though he wanted to say something, even going so far as to open his mouth twice and look back her way - but nothing came out. They both just sat in silence then, driving forward aimlessly through the pretty neighbourhoods. Though neither really saw any of it; both were too lost in their thoughts to take in the sights.

“I don’t know why I bother,” Y/N finally mumbled, softer than anything else she had said before. She avoided Diego’s sharp gaze. “Like, I know I’m just gonna leave her place upset, but yet I keep going and letting myself be dragged through the dirt. Eve-even before you came, she was ragging on me. Maybe worse, I dunno. Just shit about how different we are, about how old I’ve gotten, and then just all these little malicious comments that makes her sound so much better than I am. I mean,” she choked, trying her best to hold back the emotions but failing, “she’s right, sure. I’m not like her at all. I live in a dump of an apartment, I’ve got no friends and my ‘boyfriend’ isn’t even really my boyfriend at all. Just a fellow loser I entrapped, got ourselves stuck together.”

“Y/N…”

“Right. You’re not a loser, sorry.” She snorted to herself, looking down at her trembling hands. “I’m the loser. Yeah? A sorry little loser, who you’re now fake-stuck with.”

She dared not look up. She did not want to see his face, to take in the pity, half-baked sympathy radiating through that he couldn’t express. That would probably just make things worse - it stung enough, admitting this out loud. She sounded like a whiny teenager all over again - and she really didn’t want to think about that just then, it was easier to pretend like this was all in her head, scrunch her eyes tightly shut and just let the car drive down the dark streets.

“If you’re a loser, than I’m a...a thousand times worse.”

She dared to open one eye, squinting his way. “Huh?”

“I-I - you’re - d-don’t let what she says g-g-get to you,” he stammered out. His voice was hoarse, low, hushed like someone else was listening in. “I mean, shit. Look what you’ve done for yourself.”

Y/N bit her lip and let both eyes open, but said nothing. Just sat in silence and waited for him to say more.

Which, he did, just a moment later. “You’ve got a good job you worked for. You work y-y-y-your ass off f-f-f-or everyone around you.”

“Not true, I-”

“-and you p-p-p-put up with my bullshit all the time. For nothin’ but the goodness of your heart.”

She scoffed a little at that, but she was smiling still, softly into the darkness. “Not true. You normally bring some sort of monetary gift back.”

“Sure. But a coupl’a pizzas and beers is nothing to what you do for me.”

“What does it matter? We’re friends, friends do stuff like for each other - what are you getting at here?”

He did not look her way. His eyes remained trained forward, frozen as they stared through the glass window, but she could tell they were not totally focused. All his energy was being poured into his words, forcing them to come out the way he wanted even through his evident emotional issue. He was holding something back, but what? She could not say for the life of her.

“D-don’t let yourself get d-d-dragged by her shit,” he finally said. His right hand left the steering wheel and hovered before falling awkwardly against his leg. “I did that to myself too long. Let the stupid numbers define who I was, just ‘cause a lunatic decided to give ourselves them so we h-h-hated each other. B-but you know who stopped me from letting it t-t-t-tear me up?”

She could barely breathe.

“You.” Only then did his eyes leave and meet her own, pausing as they bored into her glassy gaze before flitting away. “And maybe I can’t make the same speeches you can, b-but I’m not gonna let you think you’re not as fucking great as you are. You got that, Y/N?”

“Diego…”

“You’re maybe the greatest person I know,” he said, gruffer that time, “and sure that’s not much to say...but I do mean that.”

And Y/N, Y/N had no clue what to say to that. She stared his way, watching his stone face shift with the shadows, but no words left her lips. She could only watch in silent shock, unsure where this was all coming from - or how to respond to such sweet words. He had never said anything like that to her before, leaving compliments to five word-or-less mutters, and she would throw a joke back just so things didn’t get weird. That was what their friendship was. Don’t let shit leave surface level, else they might just drown in all the unspoken emotions lurking underneath.

But this was different. This was raw, and from his heart, confessions that she couldn’t just up and ignore. What she was supposed to make of it, she didn’t know, but she was certain it wasn’t just nothing. Diego didn’t say all that for nothing.

“Thanks,” she finally said, silently cursing herself for the trembling voice. “Means a lot.”

He grunted. “Sure.”

“No, I mean that...dude.” In an act of half adrenaline, half why-the-fuck-not, she reached out and tentatively touched his free hand. She ignored the shock that flinched through his body and grasped it tightly in her own. “I...I don’t know, I’m not good at accepting compliments.”

“It’s chill.”

“But, but,” she repeated, squeezing a little tighter, “I appreciate it. I needed that. You know? Sort of, okay, someone thinks something of you, but it’s okay cause I’ve got someone I actually l-care about in my corner. So...uh, I don’t know anything about boxing, I’m trying to make a reference but it isn’t working?”

She could just barely see a smirk creep across his mouth, and she in turn grinned at that, feeling a bit better then. His hand moved in hers, finally holding her own back. She almost drew away then, but still held tight - for reasons she could quite place. But she knew she didn’t want to let it go, let him go, and so she let her fingers intertwined with his, and let her back hit the seat once more.

Soon enough, they were on her street, then pulling up in front of her dimly-lit apartment lobby. Only then did Y/N shift again, slipping off her seatbelt and preparing to exit. Her hand, however, did not leave his just yet.

She glanced his way and bobbed her head towards the building. “You wanna come up?”

“No, it’s okay.”

“You sure?”

He nodded, smiling softly. She rarely saw that from him, the sweet grin he only let slip to certain people - but god, did it suit his face. Absent-mindedly, she made a note to remember how much she liked that smile on him.

“I have to get back, Al’ll kill me if I don’t close up properly tonight.”

“Okay. Well...uh, feel free to stop by, if you need to.” Her words hung between them, hesitant, unsure. Her hand slipped from his and she leant down to pick up her bag. “Thanks, Diego.”

Y/N’s hand found the door handle and she twisted away, gaze now far away from his own. She was just about to leave, when-

His hand found her arm and she turned immediately. Without hesitation, they both rushed forward and lips met lips, hitting one another sloppily before moving into better position, pressing hard and fast as though the world was ending and these were their last moments. She felt, almost distantly, as his hands met her face and tilted it up, just so he could reach it a bit better, taste her lips a little more against his. She found herself dropping her bags and reaching up too, threading her hands around his neck so she could hold him closer. They moved slightly awkwardly, but despite the tight space the embrace was still frantic and unhindered by the car. If anything, it only added to the close quarters, forcing the pair to pull even nearer to the other to feel the right amount of warmth from the other.

And then, just like that--

--it was over.

Both pulling away. Both wearing mirrored looks of shock. One sinking back into his seat, the other frantically searching for the passenger door handle and stumbling out. Both struggling to comprehend just what the fuck happened even as they ran away from the other, one slamming their brakes and the other forcing her legs to run like they never had before. Neither one stopped until their were both inside, pressed against their doors with hands tracing at their lips, lips that had been just so easily slotted against the others. Both left staring off hazily into the distance, unsure what that kiss meant - for them, and their future ‘together’.

TAG LIST - @asexualmarauder @thatshellfiredean @the-bird-suit @rangotangomango @fandomsandmore394 @thatkidofwarandpeace @antoouu @soul-of-a-traveller @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @artsyle @asuperconfusedgirl @fic-cheesecake (let me know if you want to be added, or if I missed you)

#i need a favour series #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves oneshot #diego hargreeves series #diego hargreeves au

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phoenixfeatherquill · 5 years

Text

Midwinter (1/5)

AN: I’m doing a Midsommar fic and you guys can’t stop me. I’m in the mood for dark fucked up smut, so sue me. A friend on Twitter helped me with the Swedish!

They were going to kill her next.

It was only logical. Once the Midsommar celebrations were complete, once her title of May Queen was completed, once the community settled into their usual routines, Dani felt certain they would kill her. Perhaps for their next ritual. A harvest festival? A midwinter ceremony? Dani didn’t know. She didn’t especially care.

The thought did not concern her. Death was no longer something to be feared, just an inevitability she would reckon with when the time came. She had lost her sister, her parents, and now Christian…

She did not want to think about Christian. His death had brought her a euphoric, crazed delight, a sense of control that she’d never felt before.

She smiled. It was still dark, but she knew it was morning. Her body had shifted its circadian rhythms to accept darkness as a reality in the fall and winter, She smiled a lot more nowadays, it seemed.

“Dani? Are you awake?”

She shifted to her side. Her bed used to be next to Christian’s and Josh’s, but now there was no more Christian or Josh. Now her bed lay next to Pelle’s, which gave her a curious combination of fear and protection.

“Now I am,” She whispered back to him.

“It’s morning now,” He said softly and sat up. “Let’s walk together.”

She raised herself up on one elbow. No one else seemed to be up, save for a few mothers who were cooing at fussy babies.

“It’s still dark,” She murmured.

“It will get darker as we get closer to Yule. Come. It’ll be too cold for morning walks soon.”

He offered his hand to her. Pelle had been taking her on a lot of walks lately. He was an early riser naturally, something that Dani would never be able to relate to, but she shrugged nevertheless and pulled on a pair of denim shorts.

Pelle shook his head. “Too cold for those. Almost October.”

She looked at him. He knew perfectly well that she only had about a week’s worth of clothes, all summer garments. She was only supposed to have been here for a week.

“Here,” He tossed her a pair of fleece-lined pants. She’d seen him wear them before. They were far too big for her, but she was able manage them, tightening the strings as far as they would go. He gave her a sweatshirt too and she tugged it on as well. It smelled a little of peppermint and something flipped in her stomach. She hadn’t worn another man’s clothes since Christian…

“Ready?” He asked her with a smile.

“You owe me coffee,” She returned and pulled on her sneakers.

“Deal,” He took her hand in his and led her outside.

It was that odd time of morning partial to Sweden, where darkness surrounded the community but light framed the edges, as though the sun wanted to come out but wasn’t sure how. The cold grass tickled Dani’s ankles and she shivered a little. Pelle squeezed her hand a little as they began to make their usual rounds about the compound.

“I’m surprised it hasn’t snowed,” She commented.

“Soon,” Pelle told her. “Probably this week, actually. We’ll need to get you warmer clothes.”

Dani said nothing. She didn’t see much point in that, since she was fairly certain they would kill her eventually. Still, Pelle seemed to expect a response, so she said simply, “I like wearing your clothes.”

Pelle laughed. “I like you wearing them too. But they’re too tall for you. You’re so small, Dani.”

His voice was undeniably tender and Dani looked up at him. He cared for her, at least of a sort. Months and months had passed since the summer solstice. Perhaps he was fond enough of her to be truthful now.

She stopped short in front of the remains of the burned temple. The fastidious Hårga had not cleaned up much of the temple ruins; she could still see the blackened pieces of wood all around. She inhaled deeply and smelled the incoming frost Pelle warned her of—but in her mind’s eye, she could still smell the pungent stench of burning flesh.

“When will you rebuild it?” She asked him.

“Spring,” Pelle told her. “One of our rituals to welcome the sun. And you’ll preside, as our May Queen.”

Dani looked at him hard. “Will I?”

Pelle looked surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I’m the last one left,” She said pointedly. “How long do I have?”

Realization clouded Pelle’s sky blue eyes. “Oh, Dani…no. You are our May Queen. We won’t have another queen for ninety years; until the next Midsommar celebration…that is, we will still celebrate the solstice. But not like last time.”

Dani digested this. She doubted this meant that the Hårga would let her leave. This didn’t particularly bother her though, because Dani was having trouble remembering what there was to return to. Her family was dead, Christian was gone, and she couldn’t quite summon the energy to care about finishing her degree. She had friends that were probably wondering where she was.

“What will I do here?” She asked him.

“Whatever you please,” Pelle told her seriously. “We honor the May Queen. She is…our goddess, you might say.”

Dani considered. “What does that entail?”

“Different ceremonies,” Pelle knelt down and picked up a bit of charred wood interestedly. “A ceremony to say goodbye to the sun—we’ll symbolically say goodbye to you and you will sleep in your own rooms, rather than in the common area. When spring comes again, we welcome the sun and you back into our common area. We celebrate, we feast, we make merry—”

“Sounds lonely,” Dani said without thinking. She wasn’t sure where that came from. When she first arrived at Hårga, she’d resented the lack of privacy. The cacophony of coughs, snores, and lovemaking kept her up at all hours. But somehow she’d gotten used to it and her own chambers, separate from the Hårga seemed isolating.

“No, no,” Pelle shook his head. “We adore our May Queen. We…pamper her, you might say. The best foods, wines, ales, whatever she needs. And she may choose a consort, if she wishes.”

He tossed the charred wood towards the temple and Dani started a bit. “Consort?”

“Yes,” Pelle replied but didn’t seem inclined to elaborate. Dani waited a few moments and when she realized Pelle wasn’t going to continue, she exhaled.

“What does a consort do?” She crossed her arms.

A small, somewhat sly smile crossed Pelle’s face. “Oh…whatever the May Queen desires.”

“Ah,” Dani kicked a piece of burnt wood. “I get it. I don’t know if I’d be into that.”

Pelle cocked his head. “Oh?”

She really did not want to get into this conversation. Besides, he’d been close to Christian, hadn’t he? He probably had heard all about how bad she was in bed, how frigid she was, how there was something wrong with her. She chewed her lip. She had walked in on Christian complaining to Mark about this very subject once, and she recalled the burning humiliation and the subsequent fight.

“I don’t want to force anyone to do anything they don’t want to,” Dani said finally. “Especially with me.”

“No one forces anyone to do anything,” Pelle told her earnestly. “It’s considered an honor to be chosen by the May Queen. But people may refuse the gift, if they wish.”

“They’d refuse with me,” Dani retorted.

“What makes you say that?”

“Pelle,” Dani sighed. “I’m not stupid. I know—I know Christian complained about me to you and Mark and Josh.”

The sun had just started its slow ascent and Dani noticed its cautious gold touch the tips of Pelle’s hair. He was silent for a long moment, as though trying to pick his words carefully.

“Christian was my dear friend,” He said finally. “But he—was not always honest with himself.”

He scratched his head. “My sister was not overly impressed by him. Nor my aunts.”

Pelle was referring to the strange, outlandish sex ritual Dani had caught Christian participating in with Pelle’s underage sister. She shuddered at the memory.

“Is that what it’s like here?” She asked in disgust. “All those women watching? Chanting?”

He shrugged. “Not always. Maja wanted to get pregnant. It was her first time, so she was nervous. Our aunties were there to support her, comfort her, ask the gods for a baby.”

There was so much of Hårga culture Dani would never understand. Women crooning over her as a man penetrated her—the idea seemed repulsive. The ritual seemed to have worked, in any case; Maja had announced her pregnancy a week prior. The news had filled Dani with the strangest emotion of all—apathy. She did not care that Maja was having Christian’s baby. She had no jealousy, no anger, just blissful neutrality.

“My point is,” Pelle cleared his throat. “I thought—I have always thought—Christian was unfair to you.”

Dani narrowed her eyes. “You’re just saying that to be nice.”

“No,” He shook his head. “In fact…”

He hesitated for a moment and Dani stared at him curiously. The sun had nearly risen now, and people were leaving the common area to prepare breakfast and start their early morning chores.

“I would show you,” Pelle said finally. “If you were to choose me as your consort.”

Dani’s mouth went dry. She hadn’t felt this taken aback since she’d been named the May Queen and he’d taken her face in his hands and kissed her so deeply. Color rushed to her cheeks and she couldn’t figure out how to respond.

“Pelle! Jag måste prata med dig.”

Ulf was calling him. Pelle cast a almost mischievous grin towards her and jogged towards Ulf. Ulf glanced at her and gave her a cautious smile. Dani couldn’t seem to figure out how to move her legs. She watched the two men disappear around one of the cabins, speaking in rapid Swedish.

I would show you, if you were to choose me as your consort.

She hadn’t planned on choosing anyone as her consort. Spending the entire winter having her every whim catered to seemed a promising prospect (though who could really tell with the silver-tongued Hårga), but the whole concubine nonsense seemed…archaic. She didn’t need a consort. She was just fine on her own. Sex was stressful and Christian had played on every insecurity of hers when they were together, making the whole prospect seem so unappealing…it had been a relief when he stopped bothering her for sex, which only happened after her family died…

She thought of the barely concealed disgust on Pelle’s face as he’d delicately suggested that Christian had been the problem, not her. She was also forced to admit that she thought of his kiss more often than she should. It was not the gentle kisses on her cheeks her handmaids (as they called themselves) gave her when she was crowned, but something altogether deep and passionate.

He hadn’t kissed her again, so did it truly matter?

She started towards one of the cabins, where she knew they would be preparing breakfast. But as she crossed the commune, she couldn’t help but hear Pelle and Ulf speaking passionately.

They were standing near Pelle’s garden and hadn’t noticed her—not that they would’ve cared. Most of the Hårga believed her Swedish was rudimentary at best, and they were mostly right. But while her conversation skills were lacking, Dani understood more than they thought.

She was not an eavesdropper at any rate, so she would’ve walked on by—until she heard her name.

“Stannar du här på grund av Dani?”

She froze. She understood that sentence. Ulf was asking Pelle if he was staying because of her. In an instant, she remembered that Pelle was in university too and had not returned to finish his degree.

“Hon är ensam.”

She is…something. But by the concern in Pelle’s tone, Dani guessed he was explaining why.

“Din resa är inte slut än.”

Ulf was telling him he wasn’t finished with…a journey? His journey.

“Mitt öde är här.”

Pelle’s journey was…here. Here?

“Älskar du henne?”

She didn’t understand that one. Ulf was asking him something. Something about her.

“Ja.”

Yes. Dani shook herself. Enough snooping. She was hungry. So what if it sounded like Pelle was staying in Hårga for her? What did it matter? They would dispose of her as soon as she inevitably offended them. Like Mark. Like Josh. Pelle was too optimistic. And anyway, why should she trust him?

The memory of his lips on hers flashed through her mind. She swallowed hard.

Fuck.

#Midsommar #Dani x Pelle

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flutteringphalanges · 4 years

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Mirabile Visu

Summary: Sister Agatha Van Helsing discovers she’s in over her head when a competitive game of chess ultimately results in her becoming pregnant with the child of her worst enemy, Count Dracula. Now tied by a bond deeper than blood, the two must learn to coexist and adapt in a world that could be potentially hostile towards their offspring. Parenthood has never looked so batty.

Characters: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Chapter: 14/15 (technically it’s chapter 13/14 since there was a two part chapter, but you get the idea)

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: Thank you so much for your support and amazing feedback! It truly means the world! Oh my gosh, guys, we are so close to the end! Next chapter is the final one. The epilogue! I can’t believe it! I’m both excited and sad! Also to clarify, Jack refers to Sorina jokingly as “Van Helsing” because it’s the last name she’s used for nearly all her life--since she grew up with Agatha’s family. Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! I’d love to know your thoughts! I hope you enjoy! -Jen

Chapter Thirteen

Larpool Lane Cemetery

Present Time

Dental records. That's how far gone Zoe's body was when the coroner went to finally identify her. She felt horrible for thinking so, but Sorina was glad she didn't have to identify the remains. That would've been a task the halfling might've not been ready for. But they purchased a beautiful urn-purple, Zoe's favorite color-and bought a plot of land in the graveyard. A nice place that looked towards the trees. She would've liked that. And a simple, granite gravestone engraved with her name, date of birth and death, along with the words Beloved Aunt and Niece. Nothing fancy. Nothing that stood out. Simple. Like Zoe.

"I'm not leaving those stupid fabric flowers, Zoe deserves better."

Sorina stood over the tombstone, her eyes red as she clutched a bouquet of freshly cut daffodils in her right hand. Somehow, she had refrained from crying, but it was obvious that she was close to doing so. On either side of her, her parents stood. Agatha wore a black dress, something she had pulled from Zoe's closet. She felt a little guilty for wearing something that belonged to her late, great, great niece, but Sorina was fine with it. Dracula seemed rather distant as he stood close to his daughter, almost as if he was trying to listen out for something.

"Leave them, we can always replace them with more if the caretakers remove them."

Jack met Sorina's gaze, his mouth forming a small, encouraging smile. Since Zoe's death, he hadn't really left her side. While Dracula's and Agatha's home was in the remodeling process after The Foundation had damaged it, the four of them had been staying in what was now technically Sorina's home. She hadn't decided whether or not she wanted to sell it. From what any of them could gather, the halfing had yet to step foot into her aunt's room. He wasn't sure how long it would take before she had it in her to do so.

"I know this isn't exactly the ideal funeral." Agatha began, one hand absentmindedly resting on her still flat stomach. "But I'd like to say a few words, if that would be alright with you, Sorina?"

Her daughter nodded, clutching the flowers to her chest.

"I didn't know Zoe for very long. Only a few days, in fact. But I know how important she was to you and how she impacted your life as much as she did. You both had each other since her birth. She grew up around you and you, in a sense, around her. As a mother-your mother, it does my heart good knowing that someone was there to care for you, to love you, while your father and I were gone. I'll never be able to properly thank her for that. I'll still say it. Zoe, I am, and will always be, eternally grateful for everything you've ever done for my daughter. I wish I could have known you better, but I am glad we met. Even though it wasn't for very long."

Agatha took a step back, her eyes lifting from the grave to look at the others. Sorina remained silent, her own gaze still casted down at the slab of stone. It was only when Jack cleared his throat the silence was broken once more.

"I guess I'll go next." He swallowed, his voice already thick with emotion. "I wouldn't be where I am now without Zoe. When we first met, I was just a small fish in a big pond. I'd gotten into graduate school, but I honestly didn't know where to go from there. It wasn't until Dr. Van Helsing came to one of my lectures and spoke...something just clicked and I knew I had to reach out to her."

The young man smiled, shaking his head. "That's when I started working under her and then coincidentally met you." Sorina finally looked up, captured by Jack's attention. "If it hadn't been for Zoe's, I wouldn't have been lucky enough to know you. And I can't even imagine life without that. So thank you, Zoe. Thank you for everything."

A gentle breeze blew, brushing against the yellow flower petals. Sorina still had yet to say anything, her mouth pressed into a thin line. Agatha glanced at her husband, giving him a knowing look. Dracula's lips pursed, clearly not wanting to engage with a speech. Sure, Zoe had cared for his child, but he didn't see the need to make a statement on her behalf. But then again, there was Sorina. If anything, he needed to do it for her.

"Alright," he exhaled, Agatha frowning when he did so. "What to say. Well, as Agatha put it, I appreciate what you did for my Sorina. We had our differences, you and I. After all, you did try to…" His wife's dark glare made him reconsider his words. "You loved her, which is as much as I can ask of someone. Evidently, you provided protection too, seeing as what she is-what we are. And even though you apparently brought him into the picture…" His eyes narrowed at Jack. "I suppose you deserve a round of thanks. So thank you. For being there for my daughter."

Once more silence fell upon the group and Sorina could feel the other three pairs of eyes focus on her. Chewing on her bottom lip, a thumb pressing a small indent into one of the stems, she sucked in a sharp breath. Part of her wanted to turn away. To leave and pretend this wasn't happening. But her feet remained rooted to the ground as if paralyzed by some unseen force.

"I've known you since you were born." The words trembled as she spoke. "You grew up with me. We laughed, fought, and cried. I hated you, but I loved you more. When you had nightmares as a child, I let you sleep with me. I promised you I'd always be there, no matter what. And I tried, Zoe. I really, really did."

Tears began to stream down her cheeks, but no one moved to touch her. She was grateful for that.

"We both knew the end was coming. When you were diagnosed with cancer. I just didn't think…" She paused, trying to recollect herself. "None of us saw that this was going to be the end. But I'm glad I was there when it happened. That you weren't alone…" The halfing gave a wet smile, her cheeks glistening in the sunlight from her tears. "I'll never forget you, Zoe. No matter how many decades, centuries, millenniums I live through, you'll always be in my heart. I love you."

With the utmost care, Sorina bent down and placed the flowers over the gravestone. She stayed there for a moment to take it all in. It didn't register that her mother and Jack had left her side, making their way back to the car when she felt her father's hand on her shoulder. The halfling stood up, meeting her father's eyes.

"She's gone." He said quietly, his daughter caught off guard by his words. "I've been listening and she's no longer here suffering."

"What do you mean?" Sorina questioned, brow furrowed in misunderstanding. "Of course she's dead. We all saw her!"

"I mean, she's not trapped here," the vampire explained. "Sometimes the dead are restless. Stuck here forever in this plane of existence. If you pay attention, you can hear them." His stare remained locked on hers. "Focus, Sorina. Listen."

Though wary of her father's words, Sorina closed her eyes and listened closely. At first, she heard nothing, just the wind in the trees. Then, ever so softly, the moaning began. The calling. Corpses begging for their freedom. Fear struck her in the heart and she pressed against Dracula.

"What...who…" She stumbled, looking around wildly. How she hadn't experienced this before, she was unsure. She'd visited cemeteries throughout the decades. Year after year of losing loved ones. But perhaps she closed herself off to the idea of death and what lay beyond its gates. After all, she'd never experience the end herself. "I don't understand…"

"It's more apparent at night," Dracula responded. "But they can't hurt you. You needn't be afraid."

Sorina did her best not to think about which of her relatives were forced to become the undead, rotting away in their coffins under the surface. Running a hand through her long, thick hair, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I'm tired of losing people that I care about," she mumbled. "I want it to stop. To be done with it once and for all." Sorina glanced at her father. "Swear to me that you and Mum will never leave again. No matter what happens, we'll be a family. That if you go, you take me with you. And Jack too."

Of course, as much as he'd like to admit it, he wasn't keen on the idea of taking Jack anywhere. Getting used to the fact still that Sorina was no longer a little girl, but a grown woman was hard enough. Knowing that she was romantically involved with someone was much more difficult. But he knew she needed to hear those words, and knew that deep down he truly meant them.

"No matter what," he swore, pulling his daughter into a tight embrace. "We will always be a family." A promise he intended on keeping this time.

Dracula's and Agatha's Home

Six Months Later

"Don't I have any say in on how my child's nursery looks?"

Agatha's lips pursed as she eyed Sorina from her rocking chair, both hands resting on her swelling abdomen. Her daughter had taken to becoming the interior designer of the room, not giving her mother much freedom to add her input. It had been decided that the theme would be the night sky. Sorina, of course, had gone with the idea as the moon and the stars were the very first glimpses she saw of the outside world.

"Trust me, Mum, in the end, you're going to like it." Sorina promised, adding another brush stroke of dark, navy paint to the wall. "And put on your mask. The fumes can't be good for the baby."

Her mother frowned at her bossy tone, but did as she said. It was rather bothersome how overprotective everyone seemed to be over her. Dracula rarely letting her get up off her feet to do anything. Had he forgotten she'd been pregnant once before-and as a human at that? Nevertheless, for her own sanity, she allowed them to wait hand over foot on her. Sometimes she secretly liked it.

"Jack, if you make the slightest nick in my crib, I will make you regret the day you were born."

The screwdriver dropped from the young man's hand as he met the vampire's dark glare. Instead of ordering a pre-designed cradle, Dracula wanted to replicate the same one he'd made for Sorina well over a century ago. It was a nostalgic idea that Agatha really liked. But of course, it would've been a lot better if her husband didn't continually threaten her daughter's poor boyfriend.

"Leave him alone, Dad. He's just trying to help!" Sorina threw a look at her father over her shoulder. "This is supposed to be a bonding exercise."

"Would it be more helpful if I just brought the blankets and things into the room?" Jack suggested, desiring to be anywhere but beside the vampire. "I think there were packages delivered earlier."

"Just mind the walls," Dracula exhaled loudly. "And don't trip, I don't want to spend another several hours at the clinic because you got a concussion."

It'd only happened once, just a few weeks back. Jack had been helping move some things when he tripped over the living room rug. He hit his head pretty hard, scaring Sorina the most. But in the end, after a long visit to the hospital and having to stay awake for twenty four hours, everything had been fine. Though Dracula hadn't exactly forgotten the minor "inconvenience" it caused him.

"I'll come and help you, Jack." Sorina exclaimed, frowning at her father as she set the brush down into the pail. "There can't be that many."

As the two disappeared down the steps, Agatha turned her attention to her husband. "Why must you be so rough with him?" She inquired irritably. "The boy has done absolutely nothing to you."

"He's dating my daughter," Dracula replied with a shrug, focused on the legs of the crib. "I'm allowed to disapprove of my child's significant other. It's nothing personally, really. I just want what's best for her."

"What's best for her is being happy," his spouse commented. "And Jack makes her happy."

"And I want her to be happy," the count agreed. "Just not with Jack." He seemed to pause for a moment as if in deep thought. "Or with anyone really. There is nothing wrong with being single. I was so for centuries."

"But now you have me," Agatha added. "And I'd like to think that perhaps I was the best thing that ever happened to you?"

"Well yes, you and Sorina," he agreed. "But that's different."

"How so?"

It was a good question, he'd give her that. Smirking, he stood up and made his way over to her. Agatha eyed him curiously as he rested his hands on either arm rest of the rocking chair.

"For starters, you are positively attractive, in both appearance and wit. You had the audacity to try to kill me." He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to her's. Agatha chuckled, smirking softly. "And you are quite talented in your bed." His wife snorted, swatting at him. "You know it's true."

"Let Sorina decide what's good for her and what isn't," the former nun replied. "It's her life after all." She smiled fondly and took a hold of his hand, pressing it down where the baby just kicked. "Besides, we have enough on our plate with this little one coming. Our daughter is a smart girl, she'll do the right thing."

Dracula stared at his wife, his thumb gently caressing over the spot where the infant had moved. He didn't want to admit it, but he knew it was the truth. He had to let Sorina make her own decisions-despite it being so hard to watch.

"Fine," he exhaled. "But if he breaks her heart, I won't hesitate to kill him."

"And I'll help you dispose of the body," Agatha added lightheartedly. "Now, can you move that dresser just a tad to the right? It's blocking part of the window."

XXX

Jack noticed the look of concern plastered on Sorina's face as they stared down at the many parcels sitting by the door. He knew that expression all too well-she had misplaced something. Pursing her lips, she mentally counted the boxes to make sure of it. The halfling was certain now. One of them was in fact missing.

"It's the breast pump." Sorina frowned, pinching the brim of her nose. "I specifically ordered that special for her."

"Not that it is any of my concern, but your mum's going to...nurse?" Jack ventured hesitantly. "Isn't she worried about...you know…"

"Fangs?" The halfling chuckled, an amused expression crossing her features. "Exactly why I ordered the damn thing in the first place. Apparently I did a number on her and I don't think she's going to let me forget it anytime soon." Scratching the back of her head, Sorina sighed. "I don't know where it could've gone. I'm sure I put on the correct address."

"Is it possible it's at the house?" And by the way Sorina tensed up, he knew he didn't need to specify further. "I can drive by and see if it was dropped off there. You can just stay here and…"

"No." She cut him off abrupt, waving her hand. "No...I'll go with you. It's been awhile anyway."

"Are you sure?" He asked, making sure her eyes locked onto his. "Sunny, if you are uncomfortable. I can go alone. It's probably sitting out front anyway. It'd just take a second."

She shook her head and forced a smile. "I need to get out of the house anyway. The smell of paint gave me a headache. Some fresh air would do me some good."

He wasn't about to argue with that. Digging around in his pockets, he produced his car keys. His ride was nothing special-a beat up, old yellow buggy he'd gotten used as a graduation present. But it did its job fine. Once Sorina had climbed in on the passenger's side, he started it up and pulled onto the road.

"I was thinking we could go out to that little Italian place you like for dinner." The young doctor suggested, attempting to stir up some conversation. "Maybe go see a movie afterwards?"

Sorina merely stared out the window, the wind blowing through her dark hair. "Only if you let me pay this time." She didn't need to look over to know Jack was frowning. "C'mon, we agreed that we'd share expenses. I don't need you paying for everything. I have money too."

"Why can't you just let me court you like in the good old days." He smiled, Sorina gaping at him in mock astonishment. "When life was simpler. I'd take you for a walk, we'd talk until after dusk, and I'd walk you to your doorstep before giving you a peck on the cheek. No need to rile your parents up about being out late."

Dr. Seward," Sorina gasped. "Are you calling me old?"

"I've always been fond of mature women." He explained, Sorina shoving him playfully. "Well, only when it came to you."

"I'm 123 years young, thank you very much." The halfling declared proudly, straightening up in her seat. "And I'll have you know I'm very selective. I don't just pick out any boy I like. In fact, I fancy just one."

"Should I be jealous?" He inquired, cocking an eye questioningly. "Do I know this man you speak of?"

"Oh, you should be quite envious," Sorina smirked. "He's very kind and charming. And quite handsome at that. I've been seeing him too, you know."

"Miss Van Helsing you scandalous thing." Jack chuckled, leaning over to kiss her. "What am I to do with you?"

"Anything you like." The way she said it made a shiver run down his spine. His stomach fluttering in such excitement he'd be too embarrassed to admit it. "As long as it isn't around my father." And there went the feeling completely.

Zoe Van Helsing's Residence

When they pulled up into the driveway, Sorina fell quiet again. Already from the car, Jack could clearly see the package resting on the porch. As he opened his door to get out, he was taken aback when the halfing did the same. Saying nothing, she made her way up the steps, retrieving a familiar gold key that hid under the rug.

"Sunny…" He began, but the woman had already turned the lock, pushing the door open. "Sunny, wait!"

The interior of the house was dark as the two entered inside. For the sake of not tripping over anything, Jack flipped on the light switch. Everything looked just as they left it. Sorina not bothering much in the few times she'd come over for things. Mostly she moved about between her parents' place and his. Though it was technically her's, Sorina still had yet to call it "home" once more.

"Did you forget something?" He asked, following her as she made her way down the hall. "I thought everything was packed up?"

"I just want to grab something, okay?" She responded, finally stopping in her tracks. "For the baby's room."

Jack's heart skipped a beat when he realized where they were standing. The outside of Zoe's room. A forbidden location that had almost remained untouched since the funeral. He felt as if he should say something. Anything. Maybe advise her against going in. Offer her support. Instead he remained silent, watching as she carefully turned the knob.

It was just as Zoe had left it. Bed well made, stacks of paper by her computer. Even a bottle of medication sat at her desk. But Sorina seemed to ignore all of that. She walked over to a shelf, acting as if nothing else was in the room. Gingerly, she lifted an object up and Jack realized immediately what it was. A picture frame.

Zoe. A much younger, healthier looking Zoe smiled back at him through the glass. She wore her hair down and in her hands she grasped a certificate. A diploma from her years at medical school. By her side, arm wound around her, grinned the brilliant, bright eyed Sorina. They looked so happy together. Happier than he'd ever seen his late mentor look. When Sorina finally turned around, there were tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I think this will look nice in the baby's room." She whispered with sorrowful, and yet hopeful smile.

Jack pulled her in close, kissing the top of her head as he too gazed down at the picture.

"Yeah," he agreed. "It's perfect."

#Dracula #Dracula 2020 #Dragatha #Agatha Van Helsing #Dracula x Agatha #Mirabile Visu

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pampamtiger · 4 years

Text

The Gate (short story) 1/ 2

This was supposed to be up last Halloween but I just finished this yesterday. I divided this story into two parts because of its length (it was supposed to be 1000 words maximum, but heck with my hands for typing beyond the limit...). The second part would be posted soon after.

Though this story hadn’t undergone much proofreading, I still hope that you could give it a try. :)

Enjoy!

Word count: 3477 (part one)

Themes: friendship, childhood, bits of fantasy

🌱 🌱 🌱

Filipino terminologies used in the story:

ate - older sister tita - aunt

kuya - older brother manong - old man

lola - grandmother

🌱 🌱 🌱

The Gate

Every spring during my childhood, my whole family, along with some of my relatives, would spend a one week vacation on my grandma's ancestral house located in the province. It was a two-story ancient house that had been standing for nearly a hundred years which was meticulously preserved and taken care of by my lineage. It had a marble first floor and a second floor that was mostly made out of furnished woods. But the house was not the only one that had been standing for ages and still looking like it's just been built. There was also this beautiful little garden located at the right side of it. The garden housed plenty of plants with abundant leaves, herbs, some leafy vegetables, and various flowers in full bloom. It had always been tended with utmost care, for it was a special space loved by my late great-great grandmother when she was still alive, as what my mother had mentioned. The small garden was enclosed by white fences and a gate embroidered with flower patterns. At the back of the garden, there was an identical but rusty gate plastered on a brick wall, which seemed to be a passageway to some place that I still did not know of... not until we met Harper.

One spring afternoon when I was eight years old, three of my cousins and I were playing in front of the garden. We liked playing there because it was the only spacious area that we could freely run to, without being scolded by our parents. It was our second day in the province, when we encountered her. We were resting under an Acacia tree in front of the garden back then, when we heard a voice. "Hello." It was a voice of a girl. We turned our glance toward the garden where the voice seemed to come from, and there was really a girl, standing in front of the gate, looking about our age and had a wavy auburn hair. Skipping happily toward us, the girl smiled brightly and waved her hand. "Uh... hello?" my cousin Danny hesitantly replied. "What game were you playing before?" the girl sat two feet away from us, giving us a fascinated look, like we were some kind of spectacle, when we basically weren't, just four sweaty kids who were dreaming of eating ice cream moments ago. "Well, we just finished playing tags for the third time and decided to take a timeout." I was the one who talked this time. "And who are you?" butted cousin Paul, looking a bit taken aback. "Oh! I'm very sorry! I got really excited to know what game you were playing earlier that I forgot to introduce myself. A-hem... Hello again. Nice to meet all of you. I am Per—H-harper. Harper, that's right. Sorry, I'm just excited to meet you." She said as she grinned at us, displaying her crooked front tooth. "Hi, Harper. We're glad to meet you, too! By the way, these are my cousins, Cindy, Paul, and Kuya Danny. Oh, and I'm Janine. Call me Ate Janine." After the short introduction that I uttered, she shook our hands one by one. "Hi, Cindy! Hi, Paul! Hi, Kuya Danny! Hi, Ate Janine!" She acted like she just ate tons of chocolate bars, jumping from one person to another, getting hyper as the moment passed, which by the way sounded a lot like her name. "Where do you live, Harper? We haven't seen you around before." It was Paul who threw her a questioning look, acting tough all of a sudden, as if he was not frightened minutes ago. "Oh, I lived near here, somewhere behind that gate." She then pointed at the rusty old gate, inside the garden. "That gate? Did you use it to get here?" My curiosity jumped out when I had asked her that question. It was not because we were not allowed to go beyond the old gate by our parents—they didn't even bother to tell us what was behind it—it was just we never thought of opening it since we were afraid of breaking it. "Uh...yes? I accidentally saw that gate and took a peek. I was captivated by beautiful flowers that I saw and the next thing I knew, I had already entered it and then saw you running around afterwards. Why?", she offered us an innocent gaze. "Nothing. Did you struggle to open it? It was rusty after all." "No, not at all! Believe me or not, the gate on the other side was not that bad looking. It looks okay, just like that gate." She gestured her index finger at the outer gate of the garden which still looked pristine due to caretakers. "Really?" Cindy perked up. "Really. Anyway, let's not talk about the gate anymore, please. Now that we know each other, is it alright if I play with you? I don't have any friends in here yet. I want you to be my friends. It's been so long since I last made a friend." "How can we be friends already, we just met you! Mommy said not to talk to strangers!" Paul sulked beside Danny. Harper looked hurt and her eyes turned sad. "B-but I just told you my name. We know each other now." "Hey, Paul. Quit it. Don't be mean to her. She just wanted to play with us. She was not hurting you, is she?", lectured Kuya Danny who was a year older than me and two years to Paul and Cindy. "Kuya Danny was right, Paul. Harper meant no harm, right Harper?", she nodded at me. "Paul was a meanie, not Harper!", shouted Cindy. "Hey!" "Paul, stop it already. We will play with Harper whether you like it or not. You can go inside the house if you don't want to play." "Oh no. I don't want to force him to be my friend. It's okay, Kuya Danny." Harper insisted. "No, Harper. We'll be your friends. We'll play with you. It's just that Paul is not used on playing with other kids unless it's us, because he grew up hearing stories about strangers and that scared him." I assured her as I patted her head, for she was a bit smaller than me. "F-fine! I'll play, too. But do not blame me if we suddenly get kidnap by strangers because we befriended one." Paul crossed his arms while his mouth talked in pout but with no bite. "Hey! I'm not a stranger anymore! I don't harm people unless—" "Alright, alright. Let's not argue anymore. We better start playing again since the sky will get dark soon." cut Kuya Danny. "Now, Harper and Paul. I hope you get along well." "Me, too! Me, too!", squealed Cindy. Cindy's excitement seemed to affect to both Harper and Paul, for they slightly smiled at her. Minutes later, we resumed our game of tag. Since Harper was a new friend, we made her the IT. At first, she was clueless on how to play it because according to her, she seldom left her house and whenever she had the chance to go out, she'd just spend hours picking flowers and strolling around nature or bonding with her mother in their farm. Aside from tag, we also played Langit-Lupa (Heaven-Hell) and explained to her the rules. It was a game which was a bit similar to tag but with a twist; the IT would act as the devil on land while the others would find an elevated ground to go to, which was referred to as the heaven. Players were only given five seconds to stay on a certain elevated ground before the devil could access that part, so they would move location from time to time. "I like this game a lot, Ate Janine! This reminds me of someone but he might be mad when I told him about this.", Harper snickered as she changed her place. "What was it again, Harper? Sorry I couldn't fully hear what was just said. Who is that someone and what's it about?" I told her while I was busy catching my breath. "Nothing, ate. I just find this game really fun.", a ray of sunlight hit her face right when she smiled so wide, accentuating the glow on her face. I once again thought that her parents must be very beautiful since their child was really cute. Hours passed by and Paul's indifference to Harper gradually faded. They talked a bit while we were trying to rest after playing different games. We played and played until we got tired and rested again under the tree. It was nearing dusk when Harper spoke. "Oh, look at the time! It's going to be dark soon, I should make my way home." Kuya Danny offered to escort her home since she was about Cindy's and Paul's age, but she immediately declined. "No need, kuya. But if it's okay, can I go through the old gate in the garden again? That way, I could reach my house in no time." "Are you sure you don't want Kuya Danny's help? You never know if someone is gonna kidnap you, you know..." Paul insisted his opinion about strangers again, but this time, it was out of concern for Harper's safety. "Thank you for all your concern but there's really no need. My h— I mean my brother taught me how to go back in our house by myself so I was really used to it. And no one would try to harm me. Ever.", crossing her heart cutely. "O...kay. Just stay safe and don't let your guard down, alright?" I said as we walked with her toward the garden. "Yes, ate. Thank you. Uhm... you can stop at this point. I will go on the other gate on my own. Your parents must be looking for you now." Harper stated when we reached the front gate of the garden. "Yikes! I said to mama that I will only play for a bit then go take a nap after it! What should I tell her, Kuya Danny?", brought out Cindy who was biting her thumb. "Don't worry, Cindy. We'll just tell tita that we didn't notice the time since we're having a lot of fun.", reassured Kuya Danny. "Okay." "See? You should go now. I'll go once you enter the house. I'll make sure to close both gates when I leave, so no stranger could get Paul." she whispered the last phrase to me which made me chuckle and directly looked at Paul. "Will you be here again tomorrow, Harper?" Cindy asked shyly. "I don't know... but is it okay if I play with you again tomorrow?" She searched our eyes to see if we agree. "You don't need to ask us, Harp. You're already our friend and I think of you as my little sister already.", answered Kuya Danny as he patted Harper's head. "Really?" "Really. Now, we better get going. Bye, Harper!" "B-bye, Harper!" stuttered Paul before he ran real fast toward the ancestral house. His gesture made Harper laughed. "Bye!", she waved us goodbye then flashed her bright smile. Later that night, us cousins recounted our fun-filled afternoon to our parents during dinner. We told them that we made a new friend but left the part about Harper using the gate since they might scold us; they seemed happy about it but were not really glad when they saw how sweaty we were.

Harper came back the day after we first met her, just like she had promised. Harper easily became closer to us as days passed by. For four days straight, we stuck to our routine; played various games, rested under the tree and talked nonsense, then ran around again until our feet became sore. During our timeout, Harper loved to tell us information about her favorite flowers namely rose, crocus, violet, iris, lily and larkspur. She would not leave any small detail about those go unmentioned, which was really impressive for a little girl. We would sometimes enter the garden upon her request, that was if she got too absorbed on telling tales about it and would go from one plant to another. We never dismissed her chatter because she really seemed fond of it, and we thought it was really interesting, too. We got to discover that most of her favorite flowers can be found inside our lola's garden, and that to us were such a pretty amazing coincidence. Harper, too, would always bid goodbye when the sky turned into twilight and would always use the old gate to return to her house. During our fifth afternoon with Harper, Paul asked her if we could visit her house in return while we were resting under the Acacia tree. Harper suddenly sprang up from her seat and looked surprised. "As much as I would love to, Paul, you certainly can't. My h—brother is not that friendly, like I am, and you might get lost andyoumightneverreturnonceyougowithme...", she uttered the last part so quick and in a whisper manner that we didn't get to understand it. "But I think it would be okay if we get permission from your mother, right? You said that she's a lovely lady who loves you the most.", it was Cindy who proposed the said idea. "Yes, my mother would love meeting you all but that would be a lost case since she doesn't live with us there and she's busy with her farm. Please don't be sad if you can't come into my house. There's really no point... unless you're already gone..." she looked down. "Already gone...? What?", my eight-year-old self could not comprehend what Harper was saying. "N-nevermind, now. At least we get to play in front of your beautiful garden every afternoon, right? Plus, you said that tomorrow will be your last day in here. It'll be a waste if you try and go to my house.", she reasoned. "We just wanted to visit your house, that's all..." Paul shyly insisted. "Enough. If Harper said that we shouldn't visit her house, then we won't visit at all. Let's not make her uncomfortable and let's just play and play since tomorrow is our last day. Is that okay?", as usual, nine-year-old Kuya Danny knew what words to say for us to agree among each other. "Okay." After the said conversation, we resumed playing until the sky was getting darker and Harper needed to come back home once more. We were walking toward the front of the garden when Harper suddenly turned around. "Cindy, Paul, Kuya Danny, Ate Janine, thank you for playing with me. It was really fun learning all those games and being with you. It's been awhile since I've made a friend and had this much fun on this side. Thank you a lot!", she then launched a surprise group hug which made us stumbling onto the ground. "Thank you, too, Harp. It's not only you who were having fun. We did, too. And, please. Don't sound like we won't see each other again. We still have tomorrow, right?" "...right.", back then, we never noticed the bittersweet smile that Harper painted on her face.

Morning came and we were asked by the elderly to help tidy up the house since we were leaving later that night. Though the said house had numbers of caretaker, my family believed that we should still help maintaining the beauty of the place as our passed on loved ones did it by themselves. By the time that we finished packing and cleaning, we quickly ate our lunch then ran straight to the Acacia tree to wait for Harper and spend our last day with her. An hour had passed but Harper didn't show up. We waited for her a bit more but decided to go at the old gate when some moments passed. When we opened the front gate of the garden, we noticed that all the flowers looked like they're shining and in in their most blooming form, most of the flowers which were in different kind of beauty were Harper's favorites. While we were in awe, Cindy's mother, Tita Sally, called our attention who just came out of the house. "Are you playing inside the garden this time, guys?", she inquired. "No, mama. We're about to go to the old gate to wait for Harper.", Cindy replied. "Wait for who? And why wait on that gate?", Tita Sally seemed intrigued and confused at the same time. "Wow. These flowers are extra beautiful today. The gardener must be so busy tending it.", she added as she walked toward us. "Tita, remember the girl we mentioned last time who became our friend? Her name's Harper.", Kuya Danny explained to her and we nodded along. "Oh, your new friend! But why wait on this old gate, then? Is this your meeting place? You should wait under the tree instead." . "No, tita. Harper will be coming through this gate. Her house is on the other side and she always use this gate to come here." With Paul's words, Tita Sally's eyes grew big and she seemed really shocked. "What are you talking about, Paul? How will a girl live there when it's just an empty vast land for centuries? You kids! Are you playing tricks on your tita? It's not funny and totally not scary at all. C-cindy! Help mama finish packing our things. Hurry!", she stormed out of the garden. "Y-yes, mama.", Cindy looked confused with her mother's action but followed her anyway. Kuya Danny, Paul, and I were left standing in front of the old gate, still processing what our tita just told us. "...what did Tita Sally say?", I asked them but received no reply since both of them seemed shaky just like I was. "I... I don't understand. Why would Tita Sally say those things when Harper clearly told us that she lived behind this gate. And what about the other side being an empty land?", Kuya Danny paced back and forth like a little detective, but a coward one since his voice was shaking when he said that while avoiding to look past the old gate. "Ate...kuya...l-look.", hearing Paul's voice, we looked on where his gaze was focused on. He was really near the old gate and seemed to be peeking. We went near him and tried to peek, too. What we saw behind the gate was nothing but big land with few grasses and some trees. No houses were visible. The only sound that can be heard was the chirping of birds and rustling of the spring wind. I was getting scared bit by bit, and I felt that they were too, when Kuya Danny spoke. "Maybe Harper's house can't be seen from this distance. Maybe we should go take a look ourselves." "B-but Kuya Danny, Harper said that we shouldn't visit her house. His brother won't like it.", Paul added. "I know. But we'll just said bye to her if she doesn't want to play. We won't technically go inside her house but call her name outside of it. That, if we can find it.", kuya sounded like he was convincing himself. "O-kay. Since it's just 2:30 in the afternoon, we could try finding her house, I guess.", I said. Paul found the idea crazy but agreed anyway. After agreeing with the plan, I started to pull the gate but it won't budge. I asked for their help but the gate can't be opened and just made a creaking sound which hurt our ears, making us stop. "Stupid gate," muttered Paul as he slumped on the ground, looking resigned. But not long after he had sat, he suddenly got up. "How can we open this ugly gate if it's locked in the first place!", he pointed at the lock which was place a bit lower, making us not notice it out of our panic earlier. "Wait. When was this gate locked? I thought this was never locked?", my curiosity was running wild. Manong Gil, the gardener, was entering the garden with his tools, when we were busy figuring things out. "Hey, kids. What are you doing there?", putting his gardening tools down, he approached us. "Nothing, Manong Gil. By the way, manong, did you perhaps lock this gate last night or earlier?", Kuya Danny probed. "No, Danny. I didn't lock it.", Manong Gil replied. "If you didn't lock it, then who did it?" I added. "Well, I did locked it but not last night or earlier. I locked it weeks ago when I finished decomposing the trash.", he seemed weirded out by our questions. "But...how?", Kuya Danny looked flabbergasted. We never got another reply from Manong Gil as we heard my mother’s voice coming from inside the house. "Danny! Janine! Paul! Come inside! In the living room! Now!" shouted my mother. (to be continued...)

#short story #the gate #fiction #childhood story #friendship #stories #post-halloween story #garden

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ameliasnormandy · 4 years

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Psychiatrist interview Number 1. Marvel Fanfic

I am a little nervous about doing this because most of the time, the fanfic that I write is for a more niche group, and I’m worried about people not liking this, but I had fun writing this, so I thought that I would put it out there. If you enjoyed reading it, please let me know. If I have anything wrong, please be kind.

Thank you, and I hope you enjoy it.

This is my first interview with Subject Sparkle. I gave her that name because she had glitter all over her hair. She quickly tried to explain it as a scientific experiment she had with her younger nieces. She would hate that I used that as her code name, but I think, for the time being, it’s the best that I can give her.

I will be letting her speak on her own. I will not be adding anything that I said to her, and I will be adding very few extra information to help make decisions about Subject Sparkle.

The first thing that I asked her about was the blip, and that is where we will start her entry.

The Event happened (Any time she mentions the blip, she only calls it The Event). Arguing about that won’t change reality. We all had to do things that changed our lives forever. I became the primary caregiver for seven children under the age of 13 when I was 17. I will say, thankfully, I already had a well-paying job, and my parents left my siblings and me enough to survive. I wish that was all behind us, but everyone knows it isn’t. We can try and say it is. We can pretend that it was all just a bad dream, but it isn’t for us who were stuck here. My siblings hate the fact that their children don’t want to go home with them. I don’t blame the kids; how can I? I have three that don’t recognize their parents at all. I have been the only parental figure that they have ever known. I can’t ask them to just go with strangers. I taught these kids since I have had them that we don’t do that, yet these strangers want to take them home with them, and I have to tell them, no, it’s okay, you can go with them. They aren’t actually strangers. They are your parents that disappeared years ago because some guy snapped his fingers, but their back now, so everything’s cool. Let me be clear as I say this, it’s not my siblings’ fault, their parents. They were unavailable. But their unwillingness to understand where their children are coming from frustrates me. It’s not that I don’t want them to go back to their parents.

I have been overly stressed for over five years now. I knew that my siblings would come back too. I told people at first, but eventually, I seemed crazy, and I gave too much false hope to the kids, so I stopped. Of course, now that hope really wasn’t false hope. What a crock that was. So many people told me that I was wrong that I started believing them. I started believing that my dreams were false. Dreams… It makes it sound like they were wishes. It’s not what they were, not really. No, they were actual dreams when I was sleeping. Now, everything I say doesn’t leave here, right?

(Every time that there is a moment where I am speaking, I will make a paragraph break, so you know that I was the one that forced her thought to change)

Alright, it wasn’t just when I was asleep. It happened when I was awake. Only a few times, though, so it wasn’t like I was hurting the kids.

Right, you’ve said your not here to judge me, but I do have to be a little bit careful. So, I remember I was making breakfast. There was a sudden crack in my head like a whip or glass shattering. Before I knew it, I saw us all together again.

(Her hand was shaking, just a little bit, I thought about giving her a small break but knew that we had just begun.)

No, it wasn’t like I was seeing the future. It was more ethereal than that. It was more like a whisp of reality, a whisper of what could be. We would all be standing in this orange smoke. I would try talking to them, and they kept repeating this exact stupid phrase, “They will fix this, and then you will live out your potential.” You know the they my siblings are referring to. They (The Avengers, again it’s something that she refuses to say) were everywhere before this went down, and some of them are still everywhere. They even made an insulting TV show (I am unsure what she means by this. I hope you can find information about it) about one of them. I find it utterly offensive to what could have been a unique and awe-inspiring legacy.

Oh right, this is supposed to be about me. Though to be a little bit fair to me, they have a big part to play in all of our lives. Everything had just found its place. And it’s not that I don’t understand why they did it. I do. And I appreciate all that they did, all that they were willing to do. I got my siblings back, but that doesn’t change all the problems…

You’re right. Sorry. You wanted this to be about me. You know, when I was little, I dreamed of being one of them. I was different when I was younger. More self-assured. As I’ve gotten older, just as many people can say, the more I don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t even blame it on the Event; I was like this before it happened. I will say that it made it worse. (She had been fidgeting a lot, but for this one moment, she seemed to straighten herself and quickly look over at me) Can I be frank for a moment? Why am I here?

I wasn’t one of the people sucked in by the Event.

No, I get that.

That, however, doesn’t explain anything (She started playing with her necklace again).

Nice distraction, doctor. I got this at a flea market about two weeks ago. My sisters forced me to go, even though I’ve always hated those things. Too many people. Too loud. Nothing to focus on except objects scattered this way and that. I have always hated them also. Even when I was little. My mother would drag me there, basically kicking and screaming, but once we got there, you would be hard-pressed to find a better-behaved child. Mother always prided herself on the fact that I was so put together as if she was responsible for the change. She wasn’t, but I think that if I had told her that, it would have broken her heart. I was never trying to do that. My mother and I were never on the best of terms, but we loved each other, which was enough for both of us for most of the time. There were a few times when that didn’t seem like enough. You have got to be kidding me. I can’t believe that I was about to talk to you about my mother. I’m not looking to be a clich�� doctor. You know it might take a little less time if I knew what you wanted me to talk about.

I know. Whatever I find important, but that isn’t true. You keep wanting to steer the conversation, and I am more than happy to follow where ever you want to lead me because the quicker you tell me what you want to know, the faster I can leave.

It’s not you personally. I just am not a huge fan of people in general. Look, doctor, I don’t want to be rude, and I hardly think I am…

My children. What about them?

What do I think of them?

That’s an odd question. Isn’t it?

Well, alright, they are great. Good kids. They all have their own personalities. I have one graduating this year. He wants to follow in the family’s footsteps, and I don’t mean disappearing for five years. That sounds like an insensitive joke, but that’s what he tells me every time he talks about it. I think it’s his coping method. I can’t stop him from needing it. He was 12 when his parents left. All of a sudden, his aunt that was barely older than him, was looking after him.

Oh, no, truthfully, he took on the role of helping me faster than anyone could have predicted. He wasn’t angry at me. I was surprised. I probably would have felt better if he had been angry too.

No, how could I have…

Did I say…

Alright. I was angry for a little bit. I wasn’t angry at my family. I was angry at them. They wanted to pretend to be heroes, and then they couldn’t save any of us.

Am I still angry at them? I don’t know. I want to be constantly angry at them. Sometimes, I think it would be easier to blame them for everything that happened. Sometimes I think that… You know, a lot of people get it, or they don’t. We saw them fail. They failed us. They failed the world that they had promised to protect. Am I supposed to forgive them for that? But then, I think about me. What about me? If I were in their shoes, what would my decisions be? Would I be able to handle what they did? No, I don’t know. It’s not that I don’t think about it. I do—a lot. I think about it to an extreme degree.

Alright, yeah. Sorry. What do you want me to talk about?

There you again, steering the conversation but not directly telling me what you want.

The necklace? You’re still on that?

Alright, like I said, I got it at a flea market with my sisters. They were the ones that got it for me. They think that I need to wear more jewelry. I don’t wear much jewelry now, nor really did I ever. I don’t know why. The rest of the females and actually most of my family wore a lot of jewelry. Well, not a lot of jewelry, but they wore it. I just never found it comfortable. Comfort is a big thing with me. I like comfortable things. I like feeling things that swallow me up in fuzz.

No, not really. You always feel the cold of the metal. Now, I am not judging those who like jewelry. Some feel like that is their security blanket, and that’s fine. I just don’t think it’s mine. Maybe it was my family’s. My mom and dad were both rich to some extent, and they came from affluential parents. So, they always had the best. So, did my siblings. I guess the way that I say that, it sounds like I didn’t have the best. I had things handed to me too. I knew it was happening too. I wish I could say that changed my life for the better, but it didn’t. I’m still not like them. I still have anxiety about everything.

Yeah, I guess that goes back to why I play with things. Usually, it’s a hair tie on my wrist.

No, I’m not wearing one today. My sisters said that I needed to make a good impression on you. They said that wearing a hair tie anywhere other than my hair would be unseemly. I’m not entirely sure why they felt the need for me to make a good impression on you. They seem to think that you want to take the kids from me. That isn’t what’s happening here, right?

Are you sure?

You’re scaring me a little. Maybe they were right; perhaps I should have prepared better. When I got your email, I just assumed… I guess that’s what I get for assuming and… Oh, god… I told you about the breakfast thing… Please… You have to… I mean, I would like you to… I don’t know what… Maybe we could start…

Alright, I’m sorry for panicking. Those kids mean everything to me. I just… I don’t think that I could handle knowing that I abandoned them in any way. I want to know that I did everything for them if I could.

So, you want me to talk about the flew market, but you just said…

I know. I need to stop panicking, but…

Right. So, my sisters and I were there, and we were talking. I remember we talked about how it wasn’t fair that none of the girls wanted to go with them and that I hadn’t forced them like mom had forced me. I told them that it wasn’t right of me to do that. I had never taken the girls or the boys to do something like this. I made them do things they didn’t want to do, sure. Museums. History walking tours. Science centers. I wanted them to learn something, but we also had a lot of fun. One time I took them to…

Oh, I guess our time is winding down a little.

You need me to get through this. Why?

No, there has to be a reason. I’m not comfortable talking anymore until I know what is going on.

Checking anomalies caused by the Event. Why is a psychiatrist doing that and not a government agent?

That doesn’t make much sense.

Let’s try again. What do you want from me? Just tell me.

No, answers. Just more questions. Alright, just for this interview, I will finish this. So, there we were walking around this flea market, and my sisters and I were talking, and I guess I can admit that I was getting frustrated with them when suddenly, objects started falling from the sky. I quickly went into mommy bird protective mode and got everyone under a gazebo. There was a time or two it was really close. I’m not sure how we didn’t get hurt, but I was thankful it didn’t happen. We found the necklace lying on the ground after that, and I was already buying things from everyone.

I don’t know why. We found out that all of the objects falling from the sky were from other people’s booths. I just felt like I was somehow responsible for it, though I don’t think that I could have had anything to do with it. I am sorry I can’t do any more to help you.

You would like to see me on Wednesday. Why?

I don’t know if I can tell you anything more about what happened.

Alright, I will see you Wednesday then.

This is the interview that I got with her. I will now be including the newspaper article about the flea market. I feel, though, that you all know a lot more about this subject than the newspaper has shown, but you gave me very few details, and I wanted to show you what I was working with.

Yesterday, several objects fell from the sky at the Westerly flea market. The items that fell from the sky were objects that had slowly disappeared from the flea market all day. Sally Marshall, a woman selling her necklaces, said, “I was getting frustrated. I would turn around, and there was another necklace missing. I talked to several police offices scoping the area and said that everyone was finding items missing, but they couldn’t find anyone stealing anything. Then out of nowhere, I heard something hit the ground, and one of my necklaces fell from the sky. Soon there were a lot of things falling from the ground. A dresser almost hit me. Thankfully, a girl with her dark red hair in a giant hoodie pushed me out of the way.” We tried to find this girl for comment, but she had already left. Some call this a problem with the blip and that more events like this will continue to happen the longer that everyone is back—more information on page 6.

#marvel #oc character #fanfic #just writing for fun

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saiilorstars · 4 years

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Rise Up

Previous Story: It Had To Be You || Current Masterlist

Pairings: Barry Allen x Female OC

Story Summary: Her focus has always been to graduate and stabilize her job - no where in there did that include becoming a metahuman. Left with a side Belén fears, she tries to make a life with Star Labs and Barry Allen. Despite the darkness, the secrets and the fear driving she and Barry apart, it never lasts…because in the end: “There can never be another. It had to be you,” they say to each other.

Pronunciation of OC: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.

Belén‘s face claim: Lauren Conrad.

"Now Miss…?"

"Belén Palayta," the woman pushed back some of her ombre-blonde hair and did her best to keep eye contact with the older woman sitting across her. However that proved difficult as she blinked rapidly and shifted every second or so in her seat.

The older woman, a professional, jotted down what she saw without remarking. "Your friend Nina referred you to me, and I promise you I can be your utmost confidant in anything you want. If it helps-" she leaned forwards and talked in a hushed tone as if her office was open for all to hear, "-I also know Nina has these powers. She says you relate to it as well."

Belén knew her friend, Nina Clarke, would never reveal her identity to anyone. But if Nina had given the slip that she had powers - without sharing what sort of powers - Belén trusted the professional psychologist even more.

"I do," Belén nodded and once more shifted to cross her other leg instead.

"Well, where would you like to start?"

Belén looked down for a minute, and while she didn't say anything for some minutes, the psychologist jotted down the emotions across Belén's face.

"I lost...everything," Belén said after a full five minutes of silence. Teary eyed, she looked up to the waiting psychologist. "Is that possible? For someone to lose everything?"

"In central city?" the psychologist smiled. "Yes."

Belén swallowed hard. "I lost my dad, a year ago, he was murdered. And then...and then a month ago...my brother passed away. The next day my sister went to jail." She nervously played with one of her curls. "That same day my boyfriend broke up with me. Um, and...and I ended up...alone." She blinked tears away and looked at back at the psychologist. "Well...not completely alone, I guess. I became the legal guardian for my sister's four year old son. Thing is, I can't keep him unless I get out of this…" she made a gesture with her hand, "...funk, as one of my friends says it to be."

"So, is that why you're here?" the psychologist inquired. "To keep your nephew's custody?"

Belén thought about it, she truly thought about it, and in the end she gave a shake of her head. "I want to get better. I want to be better. I'm tired of feeling like this. I deserve better...so I'm going to get better."

~0~

6 months later.

"Iris! Iris!" Four year old Axel Palayta-Meyer let the entire Central City police department hear his calls for his favorite babysitter.

Behind him was his aunt, Belén Palayta, who was trying to keep up with him while actively shushing him. Axel knew where to go and ran into the officers' desks where, effectively, he found Iris West conversing with her father, Joe West, and their friend, Cisco Ramon.

"Iris!"

Iris stopped talking with Joe and Cisco to greet the newcomer. "Axel!" she laughed as he threw his arms around her waist for hug.

Belén came rushing in a second later, her hand struggling to keep her purse's strap from falling off her arm. "I'm so sorry! He just gets so excited - I...I don't know." Although it had been 6 months since she gained Axel's custody, she was still struggling to keep up with the boy 24/7 while also balancing her jobs and...her powers.

Everyone else knew that too. So when they could help, they would.

Iris took Axel's hand and looked down at the boy. "Well we are going to have a very fun day, aren't we Axel?"

"Yes!" the boy cheered.

"Thank you so much for looking after him while I, uh…" Belén gave a gesture with her finger tapping the side of her head. They knew she had opted to start therapy sessions for her benefit.

"It's fine," Iris assured.

"Nina was supposed to babysit but she got stuck at the hospital, so-"

"Belén, it's really okay," Iris chuckled.

"Hey Bells, were you by any chance thinking of, uh, going to tomorrow's rally…?" Cisco trudged along very carefully while asking the question.

"Um…" Belén thought for a moment, "...you know, at first I was a bit iffy about it, considering I am technically the Flash's ex…"

The other three exchanged disappointed glances, no one had agreed with the sudden decision Barry had taken regarding his relationship with Belén. They just didn't understand. For a while, neither had Belén.

"But then I realized that this rally isn't just for him, it's for all of you," Belén finished with a genuine smile. "It's for you, Cisco, Iris, Joe, professor Stein, Ronnie, Caitlin...all of you."

"And you," Iris pointed but Belén shook her head.

"All I did was finish my family," she said bitterly. "But to answer your question, Cisco, I will go."

"Good, so that makes everyone except Barry," Joe shook his head.

"What do you mean?" Belén looked at him, confused.

"Barry doesn't want to go. And it worries me…"

"But...he's gonna get the key to the city..."

Joe shrugged, looking pretty dejected they had yet to convince Barry to change his mind. "Well, you know Barry. The more we try to convince him to do something, the less he's gonna want to do it."

"I thought I knew him," Belén responded quietly. When she realized she had tarnished the mood she ventured to change the topic. "You guys are coming to my show tomorrow night, right?"

"Front row seats, baby!" Cisco high fived her and laughed with her.

"You know we'll be there too," Iris nodded her head as did Joe.

"Isn't it a bit weird though?" Joe asked, looking pretty confused as he explained better his question. "I mean, this is a tribute to...the Azalea...who's believed to be dead...and you're the lead?"

Belén agreed it completely was weird, and highly ironic.

~0~

"So, the city still thinks I'm dead - well, not this me-me, but...the Azalea me," Belén was sat once again on a in chair across her confidant psychologist, Dr. Baeva. "And they decided to go through with their idea to honor her," Belén laughed, "They think I died helping the Flash save the city. Ironic."

Dr. Baeva stared at her patient with an emotionless face, as was her custom. She often reminded that she was there to help Belén feel better about herself, despite whatever decision Belén took regarding her other identity. "And...do you ever consider of correcting the city? The Azalea survived."

Belén's smile faded at the question. "I mean...what would be the point? Barry decided that he would rather work alone in all aspects. He doesn't need Belén nor the Azalea anymore."

"Okay," Dr. Baeva nodded, acknowledging Belén's answer. "But, what do you think the Azalea should be? Dead? Alive?"

Belén knew what the woman was trying to get her to see. She had often been told she based far too many of her decisions on other people, primarily on Barry. She supposed it had to do with the fact that as she lost people, Barry was there to be her rock. She had become dependent on him, and she - as Dr. Baeva noted - still depended on him after their break up. When the Azalea was pronounced dead, Belén was shocked but also understood that after a while of not seeing her, the city would come up with its own conclusions: the Azalea died on the day of the black hole. At first, Belén was mortified to see that the person she had actually loved to be was no longer going to be remembered. It was then that she decided to delve into her own work to forget about it, push it away and act like it just never existed in the first place.

To further it, to become the Belén she used to be, she went back to her old aerial dance team in the city. While at first it had become nothing but a pastime, her skills proved to be more than intact for a true show. That was when they informed Belén they wanted to give a tribute to the Azalea since the city was planning on giving the Flash his own personal day. Belén honestly hadn't known what to feel then, especially after being asked to be the lead of the show. She had been so focused on getting the Azalea out of her life that she forgot some people actually cared about her - the Azalea. After much hassling, Belén agreed to be the lead for her own tribute.

And it wasn't like she was letting the Azalea completely die. Since her powers had given her some trouble that caused her to lose control, she started training with Cisco to get them back under her reigns. No more would she lose control even if she no longer used her powers as a hero.

"Belén?" Dr. Baeva asked again, this time hoping for an answer.

"At first, I was relieved, you know, that I wouldn't have to worry about being the Azalea anymore. Because if she was dead, then I couldn't lose anymore people like my brother and my sister..." Belén paused to think, "But today being the day that I'm technically supposed to say goodbye to the Azalea, I...I…" her face changed fast and revealed she was terribly opposed to it, "...I don't want to say goodbye. I am the Azalea, and I am not dead."

Despite her professional conduct, Dr. Baeva's lips twitched trying to form a smile. Secretly, she didn't want to see the Azalea gone either.

~0~

Belén's footsteps over the grassy field of the cemetary crunched some of the fallen leaves on the ground. She passed gravestones in silence until she came to the two that she always visited. Her dark brown eyes gazed over her father's gravestone with a sad smile. She turned her left palm over and gently flicked a couple of her fingers. Green vines rose from the grass and crawled over the edges of the gravestone, letting hot pink Azaleas blossom.

"Today's my show, Dad," Belén took in a deep breath, putting on another smile as if her father would see it. David Palayta had been dead for over a year now, but it still felt like yesterday when Belén lost him to murder by Thawne. "They all think I'm dead but you know that I'm not. I'm still here. Wish me good luck."

She cleared her throat and moved to the gravestone beside her father's. Despite it being six months later, she still shuddered a breath upon seeing her twin brother's name. Rayan Palayta had caused her to shed so many tears, but even now Belén loved her brother. Maybe it was better this way - it seemed to beat an everlasting coma anyways.

Six months ago, after being captured by Belén and their older sister Maritza, Rayan had been induced into a coma. Due to his overwhelming telekinetic powers, his body had begun to shut down starting with important parts of his brain. It was those important parts that caused Rayan to lose his personality for that of a delirious, evil metahuman. While they had the option of leaving Rayan in a coma, it was decided between Belén and her mother - who had to learn the hard way that her son had turned into a criminal - that it would be better to pull the plug. Rayan was already dead, in a sense.

Belén raised her hand and created the same pink Azaleas. "I still miss you, Rayan," she whispered and wiped some tears from her eyes before they escaped.

~ 0 ~

The next day, everyone in the city gathered for 'Flash Day' at the town's favorite park. There were many sellers of food, toys, trinkets; anything possible it was there. At the center of the park was a large stage with a podium, and a large Flash banner hung at the back for everyone to see.

At a corner were various city cop cars parked while some of its drivers scoured the event. Cisco and Joe were leaned back on Joe's car, overlooking the event.

"Are we expecting trouble?" Cisco asked after counting each cop that was present.

"Cops always expect trouble. In this city, I expect super evil flying monsters," Joe shot him a smile.

Cisco gave a nod of his head. "That's a solid expectation." He turned his head when he heard a familiar boy's happy cries and saw Axel jumping up and down as Belén handed him an ice cream. "Bells!" Cisco called, making the woman look up.

Smiling, she gently pushed Axel to walk towards the two men. "Hey," she greeted them both.

"Is that cherry ice cream?" Cisco looked down at Axel's ice cream with shock.

"Mine!" Axel poked Cisco on the leg with a medium-sized inflatable, red hammer.

"Axel!" Belén scolded and snatched said toy from him. "We do not do that!"

"Sorry," the boy said after a moment.

"Don't worry about it," Cisco laughed.

"So did you guys convince him?" Belén looked at Joe anxiously. She preferred not to say his name out loud for...reasons...

"Iris talked to him but...we don't know if he's coming or not," admitted the man.

"He better come, because someone-" Belén nodded down at Axel, "-is expecting an appearance."

"You sure it's only the four year old?" Cisco couldn't help tease. Belén deadpanned him then hit him over the head with the inflatable hammer. "I deserve that," went Cisco afterwards while Joe and Axel laughed.

"Belén?" they heard a man a call. Belén glanced back just as a young man with dark hair and matching eyes approached them. "I lost you!"

Smiling apologetically, Belén gestured to the toy she held and then Axel. "He wanted some things."

"You sure it was only the four year old?" the man teased much like Cisco had, and, just like before, Belén hit him on the head with the inflatable hammer.

"Everyone is so mean today," Belén huffed.

"While you huff and gruff, I'm gonna introduce myself to your friends." The man extended a hand to the surprised Cisco. "Mark Forneez."

"Cisco Ramon," the other said slowly, suddenly eyeing Mark with a bit of distaste.

"Joe West," the older man was also eyeing Mark suspiciously.

"Mark is my old time friend from my aerial dancing group," Belén explained, noticing her friends' looks. "He's been helping me get back in shape for the show."

"You're coming right?" Mark then asked of the two men who had yet to say anything after introducing themselves. "Belén's really nervous because it's her first show after so many years."

"Yeah, we'll be there," Cisco broke out of his trance to respond.

"Great," Mark glanced back at Belén, "We should go. Ingrid's looking for us."

Belén nodded and handed him the inflatable hammer to take Axel's hand. "I'll see you guys tonight then," she said to Cisco and Joe.

"Are they, you know…?" Joe felt awkward asking the question on a woman that wasn't even related to him. But he knew that despite Barry purposely avoiding Belén, he still so very much cared for her.

"I have...no idea," Cisco admitted. They'd practiced together but Belén had never mentioned anything about dating again.

As Belén and Mark walked off, Belén was laughing. "Ingrid's so gonna kill you for that one."

They stopped at a stall where some of their other aerial dance friends were. Almost immediately, Axel spotted yet another toy he wanted and despite Belén telling him no, Mark offered a 'yes'. He took Axel's hand and smugly waved goodbye at Belén who didn't look so mad as she struggled not to laugh instead.

As she calmed, however, she felt like someone was looking at her. She glanced back but saw no one specific that had an interest in her. Thinking it was just her imagination, she focused back on her team. It would be impossible to spot Barry in the midst of so many people. But that was how he could catch brief moments of her without having to be so close and so...tempted to talk with her. She looked happy, and that was what he wanted the most. She didn't have to keep hurting because of him, no. She deserved better and she was finally getting it.

Barry wasn't too sure of her new friends since he preferred not to look them up like a jealous ex-boyfriend (which he told himself he was not) would. He just knew that they were part of her aerial team. He recognized only one, though, because he had met Mark the day Belén took him to the show Barry had bought her tickets to. And although it shouldn't, it irked Barry that Belén had spent so much time with Mark over these last couple of months.

And perhaps if Barry hadn't been so focused on his thoughts he would have seen a strange man snapping a picture of him from afar...as well as one of Belén's.

"Datura," the strange man mumbled and hurried to leave before anyone noticed him.

Time later, the mayor of the city appeared to address the massive crowd. He walked down the stage to stand before the podium. "Good morning, Central City," he began, "A year ago, our world changed. Our city became ground zero for... some pretty weird stuff. We got a new breed of criminal: Men and women who defied not only our laws, but physics and reason. But we got something else, too. We got the Flash! Our wounds run deep as we have lost people in the process, and I know many of you are afraid of what threats tomorrow may bring. But the Flash doesn't just protect us, he restores hope where it was lost. That's why I'm honored to present the key to the man who saved Central City: The Flash!" He raised a miniature golden key propped on a black platform intending for the Flash to take it.

There was a couple of minutes in which the crowd could only look around to see if the man of the hour would show up. But, thankfully, Barry sped straight up to the stage. Instantly, the crowd cheered for him.

The Mayor turned from the podium to address Barry. "The doors to Central City will forever be open for you, Flash."

Although heavily uncomfortable, Barry played the role the city so desperately wanted him to play and reached to take the key.

"LOOK OUT!" Joe suddenly screamed at the sight of a meals-on-wheels lunchtruck flying midair towards the stage.

Barry quickly took the mayor and zipped off the stage. The crowd screamed and dispersed as the truck crashed onto the stage. Among the crowd, Belén grabbed her nephew and ran to safety without looking back. Cops failed to stop the mysterious culprit who hid underneath a black, metal mask. He proved to be quite strong when he threw Barry over a cop's car with little effort.

Joe had to break Cisco from a sudden trance in order to get the man's newly-finished device that would apparently help them fight off metahumans. Cisco handed Joe a metal device fashioned in the manner of a bazooka or gun. Joe shot towards the metahuman and out sprang a metal clamp that attached itself to the metahuman's leg. It gave off electricity but instead of harming the metahuman, it enlarged him. Barry got up from his fall and spotted gas tanks meant to be used for the food. He rushed over and returned with two of them in his hands.

"What are you doing!?" Joe eyed the tanks in confusion.

"I'm throwing, you're shooting," Barry warned of the quick plan. He threw the tanks towards the metahuman and Joe swiftly shot at both of them, making them explode right over the metahuman. The two were blown back from the force but were able to look up in time to see the metahuman had also been blown back. His mask opened up for a split second to reveal a very familiar face underneath.

"That's Al Rothstein," Joe pointed with a shaking finger. "The body we found at the nuclear plant, he's alive!"

Al's mask re-closed again and he made his escape.

~ 0 ~

Later that same day, Cisco made a visit to Belén's home which, as he was seeing the woman in question planting a 'For sale' sign on the front yard, was about to become ex-home.

"Uuh, what are you doing?" Cisco came to a stop with an incredulous look.

Belén finished sticking the pole into the ground and looked back, clapping her hands to rid of dust. "Putting a sign up?"

"Wh-why?" Cisco's voice broke with incredible emotion that for a moment Belén laughed.

"Cisco, I'm moving to a smaller apartment - not out of the city of course."

"Oh thank God!" Cisco put a hand over his chest and came up to her, dramatically sighing. "I don't need this, you know!"

Belén rolled her eyes. "Cisco, c'mon! Think I would leave the city without telling you?" Cisco tilted his head at her, reminding her that she had in fact done that already. "Okay, I wouldn't do that anymore. I found a place, okay?"

"You did? And you didn't tell us?" Cisco feigned a heavy offence.

Belén lightly punched him on the arm. "Stop that!"

Cisco sobered up and saw Axel playing on the front porch with a couple of toys. Belén became serious and started to clean up the mess the sign on the yard had left.

"It's just hard to live here, Cisco," she said suddenly. "I lost my Dad, my sister and my twin. The house is just full of reminders. Plus-" she glanced at him, "-it's a lot cheaper to live in an apartment."

"Bells you know if you need anything you can ask me right?"

Belén smiled softly. "Of course. Now, since I know you're supposed to be at work, can I ask what you needed?"

Immediately a cheekish smile spread across Cisco's face. "So, actually, Joe and I have been looking into our new metahuman-"

"Even though I would assume Barry told you all 'no'?"

"Exactly-" Cisco nodded and went on, "-but Iris mentioned that when the guy went all high and tall, all the nearby x-ray machines totally, like, failed. So i think maybe there's something connected there."

"Reasonable," Belén concluded. "Uh, but, where do I come in?"

"Well, I really need to see Cait but I doubt she'll approve of me getting into Mercury Labs if I tell her beforehand what I'm planning so...could you come with me?"

"You want a free pass into Mercury Labs," Belén couldn't help chuckled. She always had a free entrance into Mercury Labs since her father used to work there.

"C'mon! Dr. McGee practically loves you and let's you waltz in right past through security any time you want. It would be a lot easier if you came."

"Cisco," Belén shook her head at him but couldn't stop laughing.

"Please come with me?" Cisco clapped his hands together to plead with her.

"Cisco…" Belén looked back at her nephew on the porch, "I have plans with Iris for lunch. She's gonna take Axel for the night since my show is in about-" she checked her phone's time, "-four hours. So I have no one to look after Axel right now."

"Bring him along, then!" Cisco easily devised the solution. "Caitlin is a sucker for kids. One big smile from Axel and we're good to go." Belén was still reluctant however. She hadn't exactly seen Caitlin since the singularity killed her husband. "Bells, please. The last fight had Barry thrown right into a cop's car-"

"Is he okay!?" Belén reacted fast and worried.

For a moment, Cisco wanted to smile, but if he did he knew the chances of Belén coming with him would go scarce. "He's fine, but next time he may not get so lucky. This guy can go Hulk if you know what I mean. So it would really help if we can get to Caitlin."

With that explanation, how could Belén say no? Of course she wanted to help, even if Barry didn't want it. "Let me just grab Axel a jacket," she said and rushed off into the house.

Cisco did a small punch in the air as she ran off.

~0~

In such a professional workspace, the last thing Caitlin expected to hear was a child's laughter in the hallway. The moment she looked up from her microscope, she saw Cisco, Belén and Axel walking into the lab. Cisco was instantly awed by the various machinery in the room. Belén could care less what was inside the room - she was more interested and quieting down the child with her.

"That is the last time Dr. McGee gives you a lollipop," she mumbled and walked him and herself up to Caitlin. "Hi Caitlin."

Caitlin smiled at the woman, and the child. "Hi Belén. Axel."

"Hi, Caitlin!" he exclaimed back and gasped at the wall full of funny porthole-like windows on the wall behind Caitlin. "Ooh!" he snatched his hand from Belén's and ran up to them.

At the same time, Cisco did the same and followed after him. "Sweet Sarek. Is that a 6K proton splicer?"

"A what-what now?" Belén crossed her arms.

Caitlin chuckled. "Yes, it is. Dr. McGee insists on having all the latest technology."

"Wow," Cisco looked back with a goofy smile on his face. "You deserve it."

"Cisco?" Belén called and pointed at Axel next to him who was trying to stick his lollipop into a hole of machine.

"You ruined your lollipop!" Cisco swiped the kid off the floor and brought him back to his aunt. "I spotted you, at the rally today, and I'm guessing you saw what happened," he said to Caitlin who sighed in return

"Cisco, I can't come back."

"Trust me," Belén bitterly laughed, "Barry wouldn't want you there anyways."

Cisco felt awkwardness begin to settle in the room and decided to change the topic for the real reason they were there in the first place. "Okay, check this out: we found this-" he pulled a Ziploc bag from his pocket that held a small, metal squared object inside, "-on a victim at the nuclear power plant, but the badge shows absolutely nothing at all, which is so weird. What's also weird is that at the same time that meta-human grew, all the x-ray machines within a mile radius just went belly-up."

Caitlin politely let him talk, get it out of his system, but when she saw where he was headed she had to cut him off. If only she could. "Cisco-"

Cisco put the object on her desk, sliding towards her. "Just... if you could just... See if the badge was tampered with or something. I mean, if it's broken, or... Whatever. It'll really help."

Belén his her smile as Caitlin mocked a scolding face at Cisco. With her face, she moved over to the shelves opposite of them to get started on the task.

"I've gotta get going," Belén announced and set Axel on the floor, this time keeping his small hand in a tight hold. "Iris is waiting and I've got a busy, busy night."

Caitlin remembered and called to her just as she turned to leave. "Thank you for the invitation."

Belén glanced back, "You know the public's invited. I just made it my business to make sure and invite my friends specifically."

Caitlin smiled nonetheless. "Still. I know I haven't been good at keeping connections with everyone, but…" and even as she fought against it, her eyes teared up.

"Cait, it's okay," Belén came back to give her a hug. "I understand that process - grieving and mourning is difficult. We get it. We all do."

Caitlin saw Cisco also giving her a nod of agreement. She smiled at both of them and promised she would be there at the community theater just like the rest.

~0~

Because Jitters was still out of business from the singularity - though there were rumors someone was apparently constructing it again during nights - Iris had chosen another small cafe shop to eat lunch at. She and Belén had taken to going there during their lunch breaks, even getting to know some of the employees there. Iris was already sitting at a booth when she saw Belén and Axel coming in. Belén was holding a small backpack meant to hold all of Axel's belongings Iris would need for the night. She wasn't quite sure what Axel would throw at her but she was insistent with Belén to leave the boy with her for the night while Belén celebrated her night. Iris just wanted to help Belén in any way that she could. She couldn't imagine taking on a four year old and adding a second job was easy.

"Sorry we're a bit late," Belén ushered Axel into the booth. "I had to go with Cisco to Mercury Labs and then someone-" she threw a look to Axel who was already reaching for a menu on the table, "-couldn't decide if he wanted to bring along Woody or Buzz Lightyear."

Axel could feel his aunt's eyes on him and made his defense. "They re my favorite!"

"Always go with Woody," Iris wagged a finger at Axel who giggled in return.

"I took both!" he informed excitedly. "Aunt Belén says you don't have toys anymore."

"I'm sure we can dig through Barry's things and find something," Iris promised and looked at her friend. "Did I hear you went to Mercury Labs with Cisco?"

"Uh, yeah," Belén reached for a menu and started to skim through it. "He said something about needing Cait to look over a badge or something. Apparently it connects back to your metahuman problem."

"Our metahuman problem," Iris corrected.

Belén lowered the menu and, with a face, "Barry would disagree."

"Well, that needs to change," Iris retorted but Belén scoffed.

"Good luck."

Iris was a bit annoyed to see Belén in such indifference. She knew it was a fake. It had to be. Belén wouldn't stop caring like that no matter how much she tried.

"Belén, you can help us changing his mind-"

"I can't do anything anymore, remember?" Belén interjected seriously. "That's what happens when a couple breaks up. You, though, you're his sister, you can help him more than anyone." Belén shifted uncomfortably and went back to reading off the menu.

"I don't care what you nor Barry say, I know you still care, both of you."

Belén's eyes flickered up from the menu. "He talks about me still?" Iris made a 'duh' face in return. "Iris...it doesn't matter anymore. You want him to stop going out there alone? Then stop listening to him for God's sake! He keeps pushing you all away because you let him. It gets easier when you stop pushing."

Iris' eyes blinked fast for a couple of seconds before she got an idea. "Oh my god, you are a genius. I should have came to you months ago!"

Belén playfully rolled her eyes. When the waitress came by, she ordered Axel a grilled cheese sandwich and a salad for herself. Iris ordered herself a chicken sandwich.

"I miss soda so much," Belén dramatically sighed as she passed Axel a child's cup of soda.

Iris smiled in amusement. She knew Belén was eating light for her show in a couple of hours, but over the months of training she had to eat healthier in order to be able to perform at her top shape.

"And donuts - man I really miss donuts," Belén shook her head.

"Just one more night," Iris reminded for support.

Belén nodded and took a breath. "I'm actually really nervous. What if I mess up the dance?"

"Hey, you will be perfect!" Iris shut down any thoughts like those. "My dad, Axel and I will be there front row, right Axel?"

"Yes!" Axel nodded and took a sip from his soda.

"Caitlin agreed to come too," Belén shared with a small smile.

"Oh my god, that's great!" Iris felt this could truly be the returning to normal she really wanted to see. "We'll be there, don't worry."

And she didn't say it out loud but she knew Barry wouldn't miss it either. He had always been curious of how the whole aerial dancing worked to begin with. Knowing Belén was the star of the show, there was no way he would skip out on it.

Iris' phone rang and when she pulled it out from her purse she showed it to Belén. "It's a text from Cisco."

"What's he say?" Belén wondered.

"Caitlin came through with the examination apparently. There was a connection like I thought." Iris looked up expecting to see more interest from Belén, but there was none. "The metahuman uses radiation or something to fuel his powers," Iris tried again in a different pitch but still Belén did nothing. "Do you just not care anymore?" Iris frowned.

"Who cares?" Belén tried. "Not like I'll be working there. And even if you follow my advice, what then? Will I just waltz in-"

"Yes! Yes you will!" Iris found herself near shouting that she stopped talking for a moment to better collect herself. "You should," she began after a minute and in a quieter tone, "Because Barry needs you." Belén began to shake her head but Iris was never one to give up. "He says he doesn't but he does. I know it. My dad knows it. Cisco knows it. Barry knows it." Iris sighed, hating to be so insistent but someone had to do it. "You need him too. Don't you care about him?"

Belén's indifference faltered for a split second - and Iris thought it was enough to break through - before she murmured an excuse of having to go use the restroom.

~0~

Following Iris' advice, she, Cisco, Joe and professor Stein met up at STAR Labs to discuss what Caitlin had provided Cisco with. Almost five minutes after getting into the computers, Barry got the alert and sped over thinking someone tried breaking in.

"What are you guys doing here?" he asked, slightly breathless.

Iris looked up from the computer Cisco was showing them on. "Working," she said like it was obvious.

"So, Caitlin was right," Cisco said after professor Stein looked over the information.

"Yes, all humans contain small amounts of radiation due to contact with cell phones, microwaves, televisions, et cetera," Stein replied. "Our bodies are natural conductors."

Cisco thought out loud. "I think our meta's been sucking up all the radiation around him and using it to power himself."

Iris understood and gasped. "Which is why the x-ray machines at the hospital failed the day of the rally."

"So if we want to find him, we gotta look for places without radiation!" Cisco concluded and delved on a computer, suddenly missing it so much.

"Alright, guys, I don't want any of you here right now," Barry motioned them they could leave. However this time, they were all acting on Belén's advice.

"Tough. You need your partners," Joe pointed at him. "You need your friends."

Iris looked up again and walked over to Barry. "Barry, everyone in this room cares about you, but we also care about this city. We all want to make a difference, and that means fighting meta-humans, and that means working with the Flash. You can't deny us that. Not anymore."

Cisco suddenly cheered. "Got him! There's a three block dead zone near a hazardous waste reclamation plant. It should be blooming with rads, and right now it's at zero!"

"That's where you'll find your atom smasher!" Stein exclaimed so excitedly. "Because he absorbs atomic power, and he, well, smashes."

Cisco seemed in awe of the man. "Come here!" he embraced Stein in a tight hug.

"That's a great name. Welcome to the team!"

Impatient Barry tried yet again to make them leave. "Great, guys, thank you. You can go now, all right?"

"Barry, you need to let Cisco and Stein figure out a way to stop this guy-" Joe began but, now irritated they weren't listening to him Barry cut him off.

"No, I don't!" he sped off with his suit.

Cisco picked up a small ear device from the desk that hadn't been there a moment ago. "Barry left his comm system behind. We can't talk to him. He's on his own."

Indeed Barry had gone off alone to find Al again. The metahuman turned out to be exactly where Cisco had said. But in the cortex, they weren't prepared to let Barry stay on his own. Cisco looked for security cameras to help them see what Barry was doing.

Barry used a whirlwind move on Al but only mildly pushed Al back. Seeing it hadn't worked, Barry went in to punch him. Al grabbed an upperhand and struck Barry around the collarbone. He rolled into the ground and before he could even blink, Al seized him by the neck and slammed him against a brick wall...repeatedly..

It proved that he did need his friends. Because back there, they managed to get into the alarm system and activated it to give Barry the distraction he needed to get away.

He sped back into the STAR Labs building, coming to a stumbling stop in the corridor. He stumbled side to side, his head feeling like it was still being slammed against a wall. With no control, Barry collapsed to the floor. Seconds later, the others emerged to help him.

"Oh my God!" Iris watched as her father and Cisco picked the unconscious Barry off the ground and headed for the cortex. Without thinking, she rushed for her purse and pulled out her phone.

~0~

Belén sat on a makeup and hair chair watching as the stylist gently placed a flower crown with big, hot-pink Azaleas around it over her hair. She heard her phone ringing on the table and reached to answer it.

"Hello?" Belén was cautious in placing her phone over her ear. The hairstyle was a nifty one that still needed to settle with the hairspray.

"Belén, you gotta get over here!" Iris began to shout on the other line.

"What? Go where?" Belén frowned. She mouthed a 'thank you' to the stylist and waited for her to go before continuing with Iris on the phone. "Iris, please stop shouting I can't understand you!"

"It's that metahuman I told you earlier! Barry didn't listen to us and went to fight him-"

"Is he okay?" Belén got up from her chair and turned away from the mirror. "Iris?"

"He's, well...he's outcold, but he got hit real bad. And on the head!"

Belén sighed, feeling her heart clench as she felt Iris' distress. "Is he going to be okay…?"

"I don't know. Probably. With his fast healing. But, we think it may be awhile until he wakes up again."

Belén bit her lip and glanced at the clock striking seven.

"Belén, I know you still care," Iris spoke after a moment of silence. "That's why I called you."

"Iris, I can't do this anymore…" Belén shook her head. "I can't...I can't keep listening to the same thing over and over. It's done. Barry and I are done."

"Yeah, well, if that was true then you wouldn't still be on the line with me," Iris cleverly responded with. "Barry's going to be outcold for a while. Do what you want with that information." She hung up after that, leaving Belén to ponder.

She looked at the clock on the wall again. Clutching her phone to her chest, she thought long and hard.

~ 0 ~

Joe remained alone sitting beside Barry's unconscious body in the cortex. Everyone else had gone off to get ready for Belén's show, but he had opted to remain back for when Baryr woke up he wouldn't be alone. When he heard someone clearing their throat he half-expected Iris to be there but instead found Belén there.

"Belén?" he rose from his chair, staring at the woman questionably.

She had come in with a styled hair, loose curls around her face and a tilted Azalea flower crown over her head. "Hi…" she greeted nervously, her eyes drifting to Barry behind him. "Um, Iris called...and she...she said something about Barry fighting a metahuman?"

"Oh, yeah. He won't stop doing things alone," Joe sighed and glanced back at Barry. "I don't know how else to get through to him."

"He's stubborn like that," Belén slowly came forwards.

"Yeah, he is." Joe looked back at her. "Aren't you supposed to be doing that...show thing?"

"Yes, in about thirty minutes," Belén nodded her head. She managed to sneak out of the theater without anyone catching her, but by now they were probably going crazy trying to find her.

"And you came here?" Joe raised an eyebrow at the sheepish woman. "For Barry?"

"I'm crazy like that," Belén turned her pink-nailed hands to her palms. "Do you mind if I, uh…" she pointed at Barry, "I promise I'll be like five minutes max. I gotta get back fast."

"Yeah, no, go ahead!" Joe quickly made himself sparse. With any luck, Barry would wake up while she was there and listen to her.

Belén waited for him to leave before she went up to Barry's side. She sat down on Joe's chair and looked at Barry. "Look at where are now," she sighed. She reached for her flower crown that was threatening to fall and pulled it off her head, placing it on the small metal table beside the bed. "I keep telling them all that I don't care anymore but apparently I'm not a good liar. I do care, Barry, and still so much." She raised her head and revealed reddish eyes. "It's been six months and it still breaks my heart that you decided for both of us we're better off without each other."

"How could you think that, Barry!?" Belén practically screamed at him. She watched Barry pace back and forth in her living room. "How could you think that I would ever agree with this!?"

"Belén, it's for the best!" Barry stopped to look at her. He had to force himself to look at her while she cried because of him. "Look at you - every time you cry it's because of something that I did. I don't...I can't do that to you anymore."

"That's not true!" Belén continued to shout.

"I failed at doing the one thing that would end up helping you as much as it would have me. I didn't change the time line and now my mother's dead, my father's in jail." Barry reached for her arms. "I...couldn't bring back your dad, I let your sister go to jail and your brother's in a coma. Nothing changed."

"Barry, please," Belén's voice broke. "I need you."

"Soon, you won't," Barry promised her, his own heart breaking with those words. It was going to be hard staying away from her, letting her move on from him, but he felt it was the right thing to do. "I'm sorry, Bells, but people died because of me...and the last thing I ever want to see is the same thing to happen to you." He kissed her forehead and looked down at her. "I want you to be happy."

Belén felt his hands leave her arms after. "Barry?" he shook his head and made his way for the front door. Belén turned around and watched with tears in her eyes as he walked out.

In the present, Belén was struggling to control her tears. She couldn't ruin her makeup or else she really would get it later. "I got it now, what you were trying to do. I didn't agree with it - I still don't - but I understood what you wanted. The day you stop blaming yourself for things that you had no control of will be the day I can finally understand science." She shook her head and rose from her chair. Her hand reached for one of Barry's and it suddenly felt like she was at home again. "I miss you, Barry. I do care, but it doesn't matter I guess." She gripped his hand for a moment then let it go. "You know-" she bit her lip as a small, bitter smile spread across her face, "-tonight was the night I was supposed to say goodbye to the Azalea and bury her for good...but I decided I didn't want to do that. Instead, I guess I'm saying goodbye to you." She stifled a sob and bit the inside of her cheek. Pressing a hand to the bed, she leaned to Barry and kissed his cheek. "Goodbye, Barry."

It was like she was making an escape with the way she rushed out of the room. Her tears were beginning to fall so she had to keep patting the sides of her eyes. She just wouldn't look back anymore.

Joe returned to the cortex a while later. He came back to his chair and spotted the Azalea flower crown Belén accidentally left behind. There passed fifteen minutes of utter silence before Barry gasped awake.

"Hey!" Joe quickly set out to make sure he was fine.

"Where is everyone?" Barry breathed heavily as he returned to normal. The last thing he remembered was escaping Al's wrath, but that had only been by a bare minimum.

"They're all at the city's theater," Joe cleared his throat. "It's near eight."

"Right…" of course Barry remembered what was on tonight. He had made plans to sneak in and get a glimpse of the star.

"You're not gonna do this anymore," Joe announced after a minute. "For the last six months I've given you your space to work all this out, come back to us. But today proved that you'd rather just get yourself killed."

Barry stared up at the ceiling and bitterly laughed. "It's better than getting my friends killed."

Joe expected that sort of answer and shook his head. "You want me to tell you that it wasn't your fault? I can't. It was. Guess what? You weren't the only person making decisions that day. All of the rest of us were there too. Eddie and Ronnie, they chose to help you stop Wells, and stop that…"

"Singularity," Barry said for him.

"Singularity thing. It's on all of us, Barry. So stop with this hogging all the blame and regret. We gotta live with it. Move on."

A single tear strolled down Barry's cheek. "What do I do now?"

"Well, I know that you've been rebuilding Central City at night. It's just bricks and paint. Maybe you should start trying to rebuild…" Joe reached for the flower crown and held it for Barry to see, "...things that really matter."

For a moment, Barry was confused to find that there. His eyes trailed the Azaleas and soon enough he made his own theories. Joe handed the crown over to Barry who took it with such delicacy. He stared at it long and hard; his heart felt like it was breaking all over again.

~ 0 ~

The theater had created an Azalea themed show to give tribute to the fallen metahuman. In the front row there was Iris, Axel, Cisco, Caitlin, even professor Stein and his wife Clarissa had gotten prime seats. They all got to watch their friend climb and swing on bright silk in a graceful manner. It was truly amazing to see people so balanced enough to hold their entire bodies using only one silk. Ones would twist on their feet, another would drop in a rapid unwinding manner, etc.

Barry appeared midway through the show, but as Iris had predicted it was without letting others know; he chose to remain in the back towards the sidelines. The last thing he wanted was to break Belén's focus. His heart nearly leaped out from his chest when he would see her take those consecutive falls down. He truly felt like at one point she would slip and actually fall to the floor...but she proved to be just that talented. His eyes followed her every movement. At one point, she'd done an incredible ankle hang which consisted of her hanging upside down with a silk wrapped around one ankle. She pulled her upper body down, making one thing it had to have hurt her body at some point but the truth was she'd been practicing really hard to get the move right. And judging by the cheers of the crowd, she'd done good. Her last act had her sitting back up then pushing herself to once again be on her toes. She twirled herself various times then let herself swing backwards, eventually swinging upside down using only her feet.

Barry may or may not have lost it thinking she would fall. You're trying to kill me, he swallowed hard.

They were nearing the end of the show, and in all that time Barry had not let his eyes focus on anything that was not Belén. She looked beautiful, absolutely beautiful and at home doing what she loved to do. She seemed happy, and for a moment Barry thought himself selfish for trying to come back to her.

Had he not been so focused on her, he might have seen a hooded figure on the other side of the audience walking in.

Belén swung the silk around her left thigh and used it to twirl. She passed the silk over her waistline then gently twirled again. She did a fast-paced, final twirl and began to climb her way upwards. Just as she made to wrap the silk around her again there was a loud gunshot that rang in the room. Immediately she felt something collide into her left arm, just above her elbow. She let out a shaky gasp as she used both her hands to hold onto the silk. With the pain coursing through her arm, her strength wasn't quite enough for a strong hold. In the crowd there was duress as everyone tried to figure out who had fired. Iris had grabbed Axel and held him impossibly close while Barry began to scope out the area.

But the hooded figure shot again and this time it went for Belén's collarbone, effectively knocking her backwards.

Barry sped towards the stage and caught her in time. He stopped outside the theater and looked at her shaking body. "Bells?"

Despite being in crucial pain, Belén managed to express her shock of seeing him. "B-Barry? You...you came - ah!" She threw her head back with a groan.

"H-Hang on okay, I'm gonna get you to the hospital!" Barry sped off for the only hospital Belén could safely be admitted into.

~ 0 ~

What seemed like hours later, Dr. Nina Clarke walked into the hospital's waiting room where Barry, Cisco, Caitlin, Iris (with a sleeping Axel in her arms) anxiously waited to get word on their friend. It had been a mess getting out of the theater with all the cops and the witnesses. Joe had remained on site to personally get the details while the rest headed to the hospital to see their friend. The entire audience had seen 'the Flash' take the show's lead away and so the aerial team was a bit more comfortable thinking their teammate would be good.

"Hey," Barry was the first to see Nina and quickly rushed up to her. He hadn't been able to sit down like the others. "H-how is she?"

"She's gonna have a hell of pain for some time but she'll be fine," Nina said to everyone's relief. "The bullets didn't get far so nothing important has been damaged. She'll just have some patches and probably will have to restrain the use of her left arm for a bit."

"But sh-she'll be completely fine?" Barry needed to hear that nothing would happen to Belén.

"She'll be just fine," Nina confirmed. "And no one here knows anything about her meta powers, alright? Did the records myself."

"Thanks," Barry said. In the moment, he probably could have let Caitlin help Belén, but it would've been a lot harder since everything at STAR Labs was effectively put away except his suit.

"Can we see her?" Caitlin inquired from Nina, getting up from her spot beside Iris.

"Yes, but not too many people," Nina warned them.

"Promise," Cisco raised a hand.

Nina smiled but as she looked around she grew serious. She made a motion with her hand for them to get close. When they did, she got to business. "What actually happened out there? I thought it was just a theater show?"

"It was meant to be," Cisco muttered. "But then someone shot her - twice!"

"I couldn't see anyone from where I was," Barry shook his head.

"And none of us saw anyone either," Caitlin added.

Nina sighed at Belén's luck. "Well, I hope they catch that person. Belén was really excited to get back on stage. She deserved better." With that, she left the group to continue her shift.

"I'm gonna go see Bells," Cisco declared and glanced at Barry to see if it was fine. When Barry gave a nod, Cisco took Caitlin with him into the hallway for Belén's room.

Barry turned back to sit next to Iris when they both saw Joe coming into the room. "Hey," Barry hurried to meet the older man, "So, did you get him?"

"No," Joe shook his head and felt bad as the other two sighed.

"Did you at least get clues?" Iris asked.

"There were a couple of witnesses saying they saw a man in a black mask and hoodie walking out of the theater-"

"That's Al Rothstein," Barry said instantly, his hatred for the new metahuman multiplying tenfold. "It's got to be."

Joe nodded in agreement. He had thought the same thing when he got the descriptions from the witnesses.

"I'm gonna get him," Barry gritted his teeth together and made a move for the exit.

Joe grabbed his arm and yanked him back. "You are not going anywhere."

"Joe, he shot-"

"I know what he did. Everyone knows what he did. But you are not going to go after him until we have a good, clear plan," Joe said and looked at Iris for some backup.

The woman nodded her head. "He's right, Barry. You're just gonna get yourself hurt and when Belén wakes up you won't be there. Is that what you want?"

Barry, frustrated, turned away from the two. "No," he muttered.

"Then please, sit down and wait for Cisco and Caitlin to come back so we can go in and see Bells."

Like a child, Barry did as told and took a seat next to Iris.

"I'm gonna go give a call to Detective Greene," Joe turned to leave when Barry called to him, getting up as well.

"Wait, you're calling Belén's mom?"

"Uh, yeah," Joe thought it was a given that it was going to happen. "If my kid was shot I'd like to know too."

"Yeah, it's just...Bells doesn't have the best relationship with her…"

"Veronica can be whatever Belén wants, but she still is the mother and she deserves to know what happened to her daughter." Joe gave his last word on that topic and walked away.

"He's right," Iris said after a moment. Barry turned around and went back for his seat. As he delve his face into his hands, Iris stared at him. "So? What are you gonna do?"

Barry raised his head to meet her questionable face. "What?"

Iris nodded towards the hallway, regarding Belén. "You just saw her getting shot - twice - and you're not thinking about how to talk with her now?"

"It's a bit difficult after six months," Barry argued and took in a breath. "What am I supposed to say? 'Oh, hey Bells, sorry for once again letting one of my enemies hurt you. Other than that, how are you?'" he shot Iris a sharp look.

"You cannot be blaming yourself for that," Iris shook her head. She really should have seen that one coming. "You don't even know what Al was planning. He doesn't know who Belén is, remember?"

"Then why else would he go after her specifically?" Barry asked, wishing he knew that answer.

"I don't know," Iris came up blank as well. "Maybe he heard that the show was in honor of the Flash's supposed deceased partner and he thought if he made an appearance you would be there."

"I'm gonna find him...and he's gonna pay," Barry swore, clenching one fist.

Iris smiled and looked ahead. About damn time, she thought.

~ 0 ~

As Nina had warned the group later in the night, Belén had not regained consciousness for the entire night and following morning. She missed out on the various visitors that came to see how she was doing. Among those were her old college friends, her aerial team and Linda Park from CC Picture News. She slept through it all.

It was midday when she finally gave signs of life apart from her beeping machine beside her. Her fingers twitched as she drew in the breath she always took before waking up.

Her vision was a bit blurry till she blinked it away. When she did, she found Barry sitting on a chair beside her bed. It took her a moment to deduce that this was indeed real and not some sort of dream.

"Bells?" Barry saw her confused expressions and worried there was something wrong with her. "Belén? Can you hear me?"

Belén's gaze fixated on him and for a moment all she did was stare, her eyes squinting.

"There's something wrong," Barry deduced, nodding to himself and moving to get up from his chair. "I'm going to go call Nina."

Belén had to salivate her unused mouth in order to croak his name and stop him. The moment she tried to move she felt a sharp jab at her on her arm and collarbone. "Oh!"

Barry instinctively turned around and ran back. "Hey! Don't try to move, okay?"

"Oooh…" she scrunched her nose and turned her head to her left side, looking down at the large white patch sticking out from under her hospital gown. "What the hell…?"

"Do you not remember what happened?" Barry wondered if the entire thing had passed so fast that she hadn't retained it. He pulled his chair closer and sat down, reaching out to make sure she wouldn't move anymore.

"I was…" she looked to the side, "...dancing...I think."

"Yeah, you were. You were performing, remember?"

"But there was, um, uh...there was a…"

"A gunshot," Barry said for her and elicited a quick look from her. "Someone shot you, twice."

"Of course," Belén sighed. "That's the only way you'd talk to me again."

Barry felt the jab at his heart he knew he deserved so much. "Bells…"

"Because it's always like that, isn't it?" she slowly looked at him again. "I have to be near death for you to speak to me after some fight."

"You have every right to be mad with me-"

"I'm not mad, Barry," Belén sighed and looked away for a moment. "I was in the beginning. I was so mad at you. But then, after a while...I understood your reasons - I didn't agree with them - but I knew what you were trying to do. Even though-" she sarcastically glanced at him, "-it was the stupidest thing ever."

"Yeah, it was," Barry agreed with a fast nod of his head. "But I was trying to keep you safe, to make sure that you were happy."

"Do I look happy?" came the rapid snap.

"You looked incredibly happy when you were dancing."

Belén turned her head at him, staring in silence. "You were there?"

"I was there," Barry started to smile as he remembered her ethereal dances. "You were stunning. I have never seen talent like that before." There was a creep of a blush settling over Belén's face as she listened to his praises. "You were the star of the show - everyone loved you. I loved seeing you like that, happy while you did what you wanted. It's exactly what I wanted to see from you."

"That wasn't a decision you had the right to make," Belén whispered. "I was happy doing the aerial dancing, course, because it was something I always loved to do. But to say that I'm truly happy is a lie. I'm not."

"But you were, I saw you," Barry insisted. "You went out with your friends...you laughed, you smiled…" he would not add the parts where he was sure she was beginning to date that Mark.

"They were my friends, what was I supposed to do?" Belén raised an eyebrow. "Dump my problems on them? That's what my therapist is for. You made a decision that did not involve just you, period. You were wrong. You still are. Do you know that I said goodbye to you yesterday? Before my show? I actually left to go see you after you fought that metahuman...and I said my goodbye because I thought I deserved better than to mope for someone who didn't care anymore-"

"Hey, you can be mad but I never stopped caring about you," Barry made a point to correct and leave clarified.

"You didn't care enough to take my feelings into consideration," Belén's voice cracked. "I lost people and instead of just being there for me, you decided to break up with me? Who does that?" she cleared off some tears from her face with her good arm. "For a genius, you're pretty stupid."

Barry had to smile a bit at her last insult that had been more playful than actually insulting. It meant he still had a shot. "I am," he agreed. "And I wanna make things right. I messed up hugely with you. But I care. I really do. And I may be late but I would really like a second chance with you."

She could not deny that she wouldn't like to have him back, but something prevented her from telling him that right away. She rubbed some tears off her cheek and sighed. "I need to think about it."

The fact she hadn't accepted as fast as he'd like put Barry on edge. What if he had been late? What if she was already moving on from him? If that was the case then he would have to accept it, no doubt.

"I just...I spent six months trying to get over you," she tried to explain her indecision. "I need to think. Please."

"Yeah, no, don't worry," Barry put on his best face for her, leaning away from her. "I get it. I do." And he truly did. He knew he was taking a big chance asking for her to take him back, and he expected a harder challenge. It just didn't stop it from hurting.

Belén could see the disappointment in his eyes and felt bad. But she just couldn't blatantly go back to him.

~ 0 ~

Later that day, while everyone attended to the new metahuman - without Belén's knowledge - Iris and Linda had come over to see her and spend time with her.

"These are some nice flowers," Linda had stopped by one of the tables against the wall where there were several pots of flowers and bouquets of them. "Are those Azaleas?" she eyed the hot pink flowers.

Iris sent a knowing smile at Belén who chuckled.

"Yeah, apparently the flower shops are really abundant with them at the moment," Belén responded the clueless Linda.

"Yeah," the woman turned around, "It's in honor of the Azalea or something."

Iris moved over to grab one of the chairs and pulled it beside Belén's bed. "So, I brought you your laptop so you can Netflix while you're here." Belén laughed as Iris pulled out her laptop and placed it on the small bed stand beside her. "And you don't have to worry about Axel, we're all going to look after him until you're back on your feet."

"Yeah, and your job is safe, don't worry," Linda added. Everyone at CC Picture News heard of their co-worker's accident and of course understood she would have to miss some days, probably weeks, as she recuperated.

"Thank you guys so much," Belén was able to release a true sigh of relief. Being stuck in bed with nothing but her thoughts really stressed her out as she got to thinking of all the bills and Axel and her job.

"Of course," Linda smiled and eyed her friend. "So, redundant question I know, but, how are you feeling?"

"If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me that question today I would be rich enough to own half the city," Belén playfully rolled her eyes while the two women chuckled.

"I imagine you've had a lot of visitors," Iris hummed innocently while inspecting her nails. Belén thanked the heavens that Linda had come with Iris so that they would not talk about Barry. That is the last thing she needed right now, honestly.

"Yeah but none of them brought chocolates-" Linda was once again eyeing the gifts brought, "-how rude. And cheap."

Belén genuinely laughed for the first time but only lasted a couple of seconds before it ended with groans due to her collarbone and arm burning. "Oh, maybe crack jokes later, please."

Linda apologized and pulled a chair to sit on the other side of the bed. "Okay, serious time now. Iris and I were going to write an article together-"

"You two?" Belén's eyes flickered from Linda to Iris. "But Linda, you do sports."

"I know, but this is a topic we're both interested in," Linda smiled at Iris, apparently the two already settled for it.

"And we want your input as well," Iris looked at Belén with a mischievous tint in her eyes. "It's about the Azalea."

Before Belén could even react, Linda went on to explain. "We thought since the theater didn't get to finish her tribute, maybe Iris and I could write a killer article that gives a proper goodbye to the Azalea."

Belén's eyebrows raised. Goodbye?

"We wanted your ideas," Linda said, anxiously waiting for Belén's response. "It would be the three us of on the byline for the first time. Do you want to do it?"

Belén had become silent as many thoughts rushed through her mind. Iris suddenly wondered if she and Linda had picked the wrong time to bring up the delicate topic with Belén. When Linda had talked to her about the idea of writing a last article for the Azalea, Iris was so sure that it was only right that the Azalea herself had a chance to be a part of it.

"Bells?" Iris softly called to her friend after Linda tried for a full minute. "Hey?" she reached for Belén's good arm and gently nudged. "Are you okay?"

Belén suddenly seemed determined when she nodded her head. "I want to do it," she declared. "And I already have an idea." Linda seemed happy she agreed and immediately asked what it was. Belén took a deep breath, knowing that when she spoke her next words there would be no going back. "I don't think the Azalea's dead at all."

There were two very different reactions in response. Iris seemed horrified of what Belén had said, her head tilted a bit to the side with a look on her face that just screamed 'what are you doing!?'. Meanwhile, Linda looked like she thought she had just heard wrong.

"Wh-what are you talking about, Belén?" she chuckled a bit. "We all know she's dead. We saw that hole, thing...and-"

"You saw the blackhole, and the Flash, but not the Azalea," Belén corrected. "I mean...everyone is fixated on the idea that the Azalea died trying to help the Flash save the day when in reality we don't know what happened to her."

"Belén…" Iris whispered, "...are you...sure?"

Belén understood her question perfectly and nodded firmly. She was going to plant the seed of her eventual return.

"The Azalea is out there. And she's coming back."

~ 0 ~

Now with the full help of his friends, Barry had a plan to stop Al once and for all. Using a Batman-like symbol, he had lured Al into a random alleyway and was itching to get his well-needed revenge for Belén. He didn't care if Belén took him back or not - Al was going to pay for what he did to her.

"You want me?" he stepped towards Al with a cocky gesture. "You're gonna have to catch me."

Al smirked, thinking it was going to be an easy game. He needed to go home already. When Barry sped off, Al doubled his size and chased after him. Following Cisco's plan, Barry moved into a local nuclear plant that was active. Al slowed down his pace once Barry slowed down as well. The speedster slowly backed away down the room until he entered a glowing blue, tall, circular room/container.

"Didn't think I could catch you, huh?" Al kept his smug face.

"No, I knew you could," Barry responded in the same smug tone. "Now, Cisco!"

From STAR Labs, Cisco had hacked into the nuclear room's power system and activated the lockdown of the smaller room. Before the door slid shut, Barry sped out of it and left Al trapped inside. He watched as the room flooded radiation, causing a breakdown in Al as his body was unable to absorb it all. He returned to his regular size and collapsed on the floor.

"The radiation's been cleared. It's safe for you to go in," Cisco informed Barry through the comms.

When the door re-opened, Barry stepped inside. He kept to the wall just in case Al burst with newfound energy. Although, Al was merely twitching and gasping on the floor which ruled that idea out.

"You're not hurting anyone else," Barry promised him as he bent down beside Al. " Why did you want to kill me?"

"He promised he'd take me home... if I killed you," Al answered through strained words.

"Who? Who promised you that?"

"Zoom."

Well, that made no sense. It sounded like Al named a television show. Barry discarded it in favor of something he truly cared about. "And that girl you shot at the theater? Because I know that was you. Was that meant to be a trap?"

"No…" Al admitted without hesitation. He knew he wasn't making it either way. "It was a...test…"

"What!?" Barry had become even more furious. "What kind of test!? What for!? ANSWER ME!"

"For Datura," Al released a final breath before he died.

~ 0 ~

"I can't believe you did that," Iris closed the laptop between her and Belén after their series was over.

"The whole time we were watching Sense8 you were thinking about the Azalea?" Belén shot the woman a comical look.

"I'm sorry, but knowing that you plan to revive the Azalea is a bit to process!" Iris dramatically threw her hands in the air. "I mean, how are you gonna do that? The city thinks you've been dead for 6 months now."

"I have a plan," Belén promised. "I just need to pull some photos and add some theories. People love hearing theories."

Someone knocked on the open door of the room and sheepishly stepped in. "Good evening," Dr. Baeva greeted the two women politely.

"Dr. Baeva," Belén tried straightening up a bit on the bed to greet the woman but immediately regretted it. "Ow…"

"Belén, stop moving so much," Iris scolded, thinking by now Belén would've learned. She shook her head and reached for her purse sitting on the bed stand. "I should get going. Caitlin was looking after Axel but I thought him staying with me might be better for him."

"Thank you so much for looking after him," Belén couldn't stop repeating.

Iris chuckled. "Don't worry. I will be back tomorrow, okay?" she wagged a finger and Belén nodded. With a polite' goodbye' for Dr. Baeva, she left the room.

"I only just heard…" Dr. Baeva began as she made her way to Belén's side. "Dear Lord, how did this happen?"

Belén glanced at the door to see if any nurses or doctors were nearby before answering. "Apparently, it was the metahuman that attacked the Flash at the city's rally." When Iris had shared the group's belief of the culprit, Belén couldn't finish understanding what she had to do with the metahuman's problems.

"Of course," Dr. Baeva sighed lightly. "So I imagine your friends have regrouped to see you?"

"Yeah," Belén nodded. If there was one thing she could say she was happy about was that this event had pulled her friends back together. "Even Caitlin had come by, and she hasn't spoken to any of us." Dr. Baeva was glad to hear of it. Belén hesitated to say her next thoughts, as this was not a session moment.

But, having seen her for six months, three times a week, had allowed Dr. Baeva to pick up when Belén was keeping things back. "You know, despite it not being technically a session, I am still bound by my patient's confidentiality contract." Belén's eyes drifted away, even more willing to speak. "I could ask how you're doing and probably annoy you with the question I'm sure you have heard plenty for today."

"I have," Belén mumbled and sighed. "I'm confused," she began. Dr. Baeva smiled to herself and took a seat where Iris had been. "Barry came by...and he actually talked to me. Like...sentences, thoughts...feelings," she added very quietly.

"Oh, and that's not good?" Dr. Baeva crossed a leg, looking like this was her office and Belén was visiting on her usual schedule.

"No, yeah, it...it was," Belén nodded. "See, yesterday I actually visited him...while he was...asleep-" she had to leave it at that and not mention his other identity, "-and I said goodbye. I went there thinking that I could let go of him." She swallowed hard, letting a couple of seconds passed by before she spoke again. "But then he came in today - actually Iris says he stayed the night and morning - and he talked, he explained...and he asked for a second chance."

Dr. Baeva didn't look too surprised it had happened in this way given the circumstances. Belén looked distraught with her confusion. "What exactly did you say?" she inquired from the metahuman.

"That I needed to think," Belén answered shyly. "I-I couldn't see myself saying 'yeah, Barry, let's just get back together like nothing ever happened'. It's not fair."

"So…you didn't say 'yes' because you didn't think it's fair?" Dr. Baeva asked plainly, but Belén took it a different way.

"Not like that! I mean…" Belén shut her eyes for a moment.

"You know I am not here to judge you," Dr. Baeva reminded when she felt like Belén was hesitating to speak again. "I simply review what you said."

"I don't think it's fair that after six months of ignoring me he comes back asking to be taken back," Belén said it loud and clear. That was what she felt, and if it was wrong then so be it.

"So then you're still mad about your breakup?"

"I think so, yeah," Belén admitted with a nod of her head.

"Okay, now do you think there is a chance that...you could accept a new relationship with Barry ever again?"

"...I want to," Belén also found herself admitting. "I do want to, but...but I don't...I don't want things to be like they used to."

Dr. Baeva tilted her head, trying to understand what that meant. "How do you mean 'like they used to be'?"

"Exactly what I said. You pointed out that I felt dependent on Barry for my well being, and I don't want that anymore," Belén shook her head. "Six months I tried getting rid of that, and I feel like I've done a good job."

"Belén, is it possible that perhaps you're primarily rejecting the idea of getting back together because you are afraid that your independant development will unravel?"

Belén looked down, only taking a moment to realize the answer was yes. "I do want to be with him...but not like before. I don't want him to always want to protect me."

"I think you are doing very well, Belén," Dr. Baeva genuinely smiled. "Six months ago you came to me wishing nothing but to get things back the way they used to be. Now you want to change for your benefit. But just remember, wanting to be with a man does not mean you are relinquishing your independence. You are human, Belén, and humans long to be with someone whether it's friends or family, or someone intimate. It's okay to want to be with someone. And it's also okay to let them try to protect you."

"Is it?" Belén asked with heavy doubt.

"Of course. Just because someone who cares about you tried to protect you doesn't mean you are suddenly dependent on them. It means they care for you that much. It's human nature to want to protect those we care about, no matter what our relationships are."

A warm smile spread across Belén's face. "Thank you, Dr. Baeva. I needed to hear that," she admitted. The psychologist smiled back, glad she had once again helped the metahuman.

Belén had her company leave after an hour or so, and she went back to Netflix. Nina came in when she could to see how she was doing, or sometimes just to chat. It was late when she had company again, but it still warmed her heart that he would come back despite her words.

"Hey," Barry walked in holding a small card by the looks of it.

"Hi," she greeted quietly.

"I'm only here to visit again," he raised his free hand in a solemn swear. Belén had to laugh. "And Axel made sure that I would give you this." He held out the closed card for her.

With her good arm, Belén took it and opened it with her fingers. Inside was nothing but scribbles with a prominent big round face with lines for eyes and a smile. "Axel," Belén had to laugh again.

"He's fine for tonight," Barry promised. "Iris knew just how to put him to sleep."

"Thank you," Belén said seriously.

"And listen, I came to tell you that the metahuman that did this to you is gone. He's not hurting you again."

"I don't understand why he wanted to hurt me in the first place."

Barry sighed, frustrated neither he nor the group could figure it out. "I don't know, but I'm gonna find out. I promise you."

Belén felt her stomach churn in that way it almost always did with him. Yeah, she missed that.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Barry dug into his jean's pocket, "Axel gave me a toy to go with that-" he pointed at the card, "-think it was a bouncy ball or something."

"Aw," Belén said, "He gave me his bouncy ball? He loves that thing."

Barry laughed as he finally pulled out the blue and white bouncy ball from his pocket. As he did, Belén heard a clang hit the floor.

"What's that?" she took the bouncy ball and tried peering over the bed.

Barry saw it was the white USB Wells' attorney gave him earlier in the day. "Ah, it's uh…" he quickly ventured to pick it up.

"Um, doesn't look like it's nothing," Belén observed his rash behavior.

Barry sighed, agreeing with her. "Apparently, in case of his death, Wells had some kind of a living will."

"So what is that thing, then?" Belén eyed the USB even more curiously.

"I haven't watched it," Barry confessed.

"What? Why? Don't you wanna know what he says?"

"I've... been too afraid, honestly…"

Belén could adhere to that. She glanced at the bed stand on her other side and cleared her throat. "We could, uh...maybe watch it...together?"

Barry's eyes widened. "You would?"

Belén smiled softly. "Of course. I am still your friend."

Although the thought that perhaps it was all they would be from now on, Barry was still admittedly happy she wasn't flatout getting him out of her life.

He got up from his chair and went around the bed to retrieve Belén's laptop. She tried picking it up with one hand before he flatout told her absolutely not. After putting the USB in, he settled it between them two and prepared to see what Wells had left for them.

"Hello, Barry. If you're watching this, that means something has gone horribly wrong," Wells began in video. "I'm dead and the last 15 years have been for nothing. Bummer. 15 years. You know, when I realize that in all those years helping raise you, we were never truly enemies, Barry. I'm not the thing you hate."

"He is really that sadistic," Belén couldn't get believe it. Barry could. He stared at the screen with all the hatred he could ever muster.

"And so, I want to give you the thing that you want most. It won't matter," the video-Wells shook his head, apparently it was funny to him, "You'll never be truly happy, Barry Allen, trust me. I know you. Now...erase everything I said up to this point. Give the following message to the police. My name is Harrison Wells. Being of sound mind and body, I freely confess to the murder of Nora Allen. In her home, on the night of March 18th, in the year 2000. I attacked Nora Allen in her dining room…"

"Oh my God," Belén was speechless. She looked at Barry for his reaction but even he couldn't muster words.

"I stabbed her in the chest with a large butcher knife...

"He confessed," she reached for Barry's arm, gently nudging him. "He actually confessed."

Barry set loose a small laugh as he turned on his chair. "This is it. This is what I need to free my dad!"

"Then go!" Belén shooed him with one hand.

"Caitlin said she would be staying with you-" Barry slowly rose from his chair, of course wanting to speed back to the police station but he didn't want to leave Belén alone either.

"I will be fine! Go!" Belén insisted.

Barry was still unsure as be glanced between her and the open door.

Belén groaned. "Let's make a deal, then. You can go but in return you have to let me write that killer article every journalist in the city is gonna be dying to write about this case."

Barry had to laugh again. "Okay, you got it."

Belén smiled and once again shooed him away. "Go!"

This time he obeyed and hurried out of the room. Belén laughed and settled back on her bed, happy to see that something amazing had finally happened in the city after so much.

Author's Note:

Also, I've been meaning to find a name for all of Belén's stories (like I've named my Doctor Who stories) so if anyone has any ideas, please let me know!!

#arrowverseocs #ocappreciation #the flash #barry allen #the flash fics #barry allen fics #the flash imagines #barry allen imagines #arrowverse fics #arrowverse imagines #oc: Belén Palayta #oc: Belen Palayta #oc: Datura #fic: rise up

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7-wonders · 5 years

Text

Everything All At Once

Summary: Summers are supposed to be fun, not stressful. Whatever deity is pulling the strings in your life never got that memo, apparently.

Word Count: 3651

A/N: Sorry for how long it’s taken me to post this! Life has been crazy lately. Enjoy, and if you did I would love if you left a like, comment, or reblogged!

The process of moving, while normally quite stressful, is made simple with magic on your side. Boxes are packed according to room in a matter of minutes, dirty floors are cleaned with a glance, and the need for a moving truck is eliminated when items can just be transmuted to your new home. Even dealing with the bigger pieces of furniture that you no longer need, such as your bed and the couch, is an easy task when your new Antichrist roommate can just snap his fingers and send them to a thrift store in need. That last act is done much to Michael’s chagrin, who presents the admittedly tempting option of dropping them on your enemies. In mere hours, your once-full apartment is now completely empty. You’d be lying, however, if you said you were going to miss it. If anything, you’ll miss the certain sentimental value that your first apartment holds within its walls, but the cons of this place (a shower that never heats up, testy thermostat, that one time there was a family of mice living under your kitchen sink, and so much more) far outweigh any pros that could convince you to stay.

Adjusting to living with Michael full-time, however, proves to be the main challenge of your move. Just redecorating your room caused his face to turn a sickly shade of white, horrified that the once-pristine black and silver color scheme has been taken over by tapestries and fairy lights. It was especially painful for him to comply with your request to remove the large pentagram on one of the walls, but you suspect he did it because he doesn’t want to make you mad. He’s already aware of just how monumental a concession of living with him was, and he would rather not push his luck. Your new living arrangement, though, is going to be the only victory you give him if you have anything to say about it.

“No school for three months, then?” Michael had asked when you were hanging clothes up in your closet.

“Thankfully.”

“So I suppose I’ll be seeing a lot more of you since you won’t be darting in and out between classes.” His tone was all too hopeful, and you hid a smirk at the meaning that he wasn't doing a good job of hiding.

“Well yeah, when I’m not working.” You weren’t looking at him, but you knew that his jaw was clenched tightly.

“Why would you be working? You’re aware of how much money I have at my disposal; there’s no logical reason why you need to have a job.”

“How else am I going to pay you rent?” He breathed in harshly through his nose, and you buried your face is a shirt to keep from laughing.

“Excuse me? You--you don’t have to pay me rent, (Y/N), you’re my wife.”

“You’re letting me live with you, it’s the least I could do.”

“If,” Michael stopped, choosing his words carefully, “if that’s what you would like to do, then I suppose I cannot stop you.”

“Thank you!” you said cheerfully, going back to the task at hand while humming a song that had been stuck in your head.

It’s not like you’re that determined to keep paying rent now that you live with Michael. In fact, if this was any other person and not the Antichrist insisting that you don’t need to pay to live on their property, you would happily oblige. With Michael, though, things have to be made a little difficult for him. Ever since the contract negotiations during your first weekend at what you’ve come to refer to as Langdon Manor, you had remained adamant that nothing would change just because you were now bonded in unholy matrimony. For the most part, that has remained the case. It’s also just fun to see how mad you can make him before he needs to go be alone in his office, but that’s besides the point.

Nannying, although not glamorous work, pays better than any other job you’ve had. Getting to look after cute children is also a plus, and they keep you busy enough where there’s never a dull moment. The two kids that you nanny, sisters Maggie and Sarah, love going to the pool and playing make believe. They play so well together that you often find yourself just reading a book and keeping an eye on them while they decide to run a daycare or start a school. Easy work, even if the hours are sometimes less than ideal. Their parents, a doctor and a police officer, work odd hours and have a penchant for date nights on Fridays, which is often their only time off without the kids. It’s not an inconvenience to you; extra hours equal extra money, and the girls go to sleep early enough that you can just watch videos on your phone until they arrive home.

The only one who has a problem with your hours is Michael, of course. You’ve suspected since the house party three weeks ago that he’s been trying to figure out how to ask you out on another date, but obstacles have managed to shake up any plans he may have. He’s not the most subtle, asking you on every Wednesday what your plans are for Friday while trying too hard to look like he’s not invested in your answer. By this week, your third straight Friday date night shift, he’s over it.

“But tomorrow you don’t work, right?” Michael asks from the speakerphone. Your phone is resting on the kitchen counter, the girls in the living room while you make a dinner of chicken and rice for everybody.

“Nope,” you say, leaning back to make sure the girls are still watching their movie instead of beating each other over the head.

“We’re having a movie night tomorrow.”

The tone of finality in Michael’s voice makes you laugh. “A movie night? Michael, have you ever even seen a movie before?”

“Yes, (Y/N), I have seen a movie before.” You can almost hear how he’s rolling his eyes right now. “You can pick the movies, and I’ll worry about the snacks?”

“No. Knowing you, your snacks will be something like pickled eyeballs washed down with a tall glass of ice cold blood. I’ll be the one in charge of snacks.” You can’t resist slipping a joke in there, and Michael sighs heavily.

“Fine. I’ll see you when you get home?”

“Yep, bye.” You hang up the phone curtly when the oven beeps, more focused on pulling the chicken out than crafting a sincere goodbye.

Turning around to put the pan down so you can slice the chicken, it’s not at all surprising to see the girls sitting at the table and staring at you. The two love to eavesdrop, especially when it comes to people talking on the phone.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Sarah asks, her blonde curls bouncing in her ponytails.

“No, he’s not, and you shouldn’t be listening in on other people’s conversations.” It’s impossible to be serious, and a smile plays on your lips as you dish up three plates and put them on the table.

Right as everybody starts to eat, Sarah gasps and bolts up from her chair. “I forgot Aunt Stephanie!” You look at Maggie for an answer as Sarah runs off, but the older girl just rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

“Do you have an aunt coming over? Your mom didn’t tell me anyone else was going to be here tonight,” you ask.

“No, it’s a picture that Sarah keeps in her room, sometimes she likes to have it with her.” Sarah comes back as Maggie explains her sister’s actions, clutching a framed photograph to her chest. Setting it down next to her, you see the senior portrait of a smiling blonde girl staring back at you. Her hair is crimped in some places and straight in others, reminding you of the 90s, and she’s wearing classic goth makeup.

“She’s pretty,” you compliment, smiling as Sarah digs in.

“She’s up in Heaven, so we never met her,” Sarah replies in that easygoing tone that all young children use to reveal information in.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say awkwardly, not really sure how to respond.

“Dad hardly knew her, either,” Maggie retorts. “He was little when she was killed.”

“Your aunt was killed?”

Maggie nods, smirking since she knows something you don’t (ten year olds are going to be the death of you), “uh huh, she died in that school shooting, the one at Westfield High School?”

“Well, at least you get to hear some neat things about her from your family.”

The girls both nod and go back to eating their food, but you just stare down at your full plate, pushing the food around with your fork as your hands shake imperceptibly. Like a puzzle, the pieces all click together. You nanny for the Boggs family, the patriarch of which had a sister named Stephanie, who was killed in the Westfield High massacre. The massacre that was perpetrated by the unwilling sperm donor from which Michael sprung, Tate Langdon. Everybody knows about the infamous Westfield shooting in the way that everybody knows about Columbine or Sandy Hook. You just didn’t know that the family of one of the victims was now employing you.

It’s something that sticks with you long after the girls have gone to bed, and even as you drive home after their parents (the Boggs’, you remind yourself) arrive back from their date. Whether Tate was influenced by the Devil or not, he is still ultimately responsible for the choices that he made. This legacy, the dark thoughts and the murders and the horrible things, extends far beyond Michael. Tate may consider Michael to be the penultimate evil, one who he could never be associated with, but it’s true when they say that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Michael’s still awake when you get home, having gotten in the habit of waiting up for you since you still lived at your old apartment and he would wait for your text to let him know you had made it safely. He’s sitting in the main living room (of which there are three), reading a book and petting your cat, who’s curled up peacefully on his lap. You toss your shoes and bag in your room before sitting down next to him, picking up your now-disgruntled cat and cuddling her to your chest.

“What are you reading?” you ask him, not able to see the cover that’s obscured by his hands.

“One of those Harry Potter books you told me to read. I must say, I am enjoying it a lot more than I thought I would.”

“Goblet of Fire, that’s a good one. I’m glad you like it.”

Michael marks his place in the book, setting it down next to him before giving you his full attention. “How was your day at work?”

“It was...okay?” Michael frowns slightly, not pleased with that answer.

“Did something happen? Did the children finally act out with their parents gone?”

“No, it’s nothing like that, it’s just--something they said,” you trail off, picking the skin around your thumbnail instead.

“What did a ten-year-old and a six-year-old say to you that rattled you this much?”

“There’s no easy way to say this, especially when you’re looking at me with those eyes,” you mutter, looking up at him. “Their aunt, I guess, was killed in a school shooting. The Westfield High one?”

Michael looks at you seriously, your recollection of the girls’ words obviously catching him off-guard. “And that got you thinking--” “Not in a bad way or anything, you know I don’t blame you at all for Tate’s sins. It just...got me thinking, I guess.”

“About how much fate must hate us?” Michael laughs bitterly.

“Tate,” you ignore Michael’s last comment, too lost in your thoughts, “loves acting like he had nothing to do with you and that you two couldn’t be more different when, in reality, you’re more alike than he cares to admit. I mean, he shot up a goddamn high school and set his stepfather on fire years before you were born. It really should not have surprised him that he fathered the Antichrist, whether it was willingly or not.”

“I wouldn’t shoot high schoolers, that’s far too messy.”

“I know that, but what I’m trying to get at is that everything, in some sick and twisted way, all comes back to you. I can’t even go to work now without being reminded of you and the carnage that the Langdon name has wrought upon the world. The same name that I carry now too, I guess.” You laugh bitterly at your misfortune, knowing that you can never escape Michael wherever you go.

“You’re being too introspective for your own good tonight, (Y/N). You need to breathe, okay?” Michael takes your hands and forces you to focus on him, making you realize that you’re barely huffing out shaky breaths. “Like you said, you don’t blame me for Tate’s sins. While I have done bad things, they are all to serve a greater purpose. Tate--he was just a dumb kid who hated the world and wanted to kill people in an attempt to feel something.”

You stare at him, repeating Michael’s movements and taking deep breaths while trying to calm down. You’re not sure why this has freaked you out so much: maybe it’s because you’re married to the sire of this mass shooter, or it could be concerns that any future children that you may have with Michael (God forbid that ever happens) would carry a bit of that darkness in their souls.

“We’re having an impromptu movie night tonight,” Michael says suddenly.

“Why not wait until tomorrow?” Maybe it was a distraction tactic, but it certainly did its job.

“You’re too worked up to sleep, and I worry about you being alone with these dark thoughts swirling in your mind. You need something to take your mind off of it.”

“But we don’t even have snacks.”

“Go check in the kitchen, the staff tends to overstock it with food I would never eat. I’ll pick the movie. Put on some clothes to watch a movie,” the thought of sweatpants calls your name at that, “and meet back here in ten?”

You nod, running your hands over your feverish cheeks before standing up and walking towards your room. As you throw on your favorite sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants, you can’t stop thinking about your outburst. The knowledge that you were babysitting the nieces of one of Tate’s victims shouldn’t have messed you up like it did, and maybe it’s just you being overly paranoid. Whatever the reason, you’re more than eager to find some candy and popcorn and eat enough sugar to make your thoughts go numb.

There’s plenty of candy hidden on one of the shelves of the staff pantry, and you leave an apologetic note explaining that there was an emergency and promising to restock tomorrow. The popcorn selections are endless, and you end up popping two bags when you can’t decide. Carrying the goodies back to the living room, you see that the lights are dimmed and there’s a nest of pillows and blankets on the couch. The movie’s already cued up on the television, and you smile at the familiar music playing through the speakers.

“Sorcerer’s Stone?” you ask, sitting down next to Michael and pulling a blanket over your lap.

“I’ve never seen the movie before, and since I already finished the book I want to see which one I like better,” Michael explains sheepishly, stealing some popcorn from you and pressing ‘play’ on the remote.

It’s easy to get lost in the magic of Hogwarts, even though Michael keeps making snide comments about how he doesn’t need a wand to do more impressive magic than that. You let them slide, not too bothered about it when you constantly point out differences between the book and the movie. You both finish the first movie strong, albeit with a lack of snacks, and eagerly pop in the second to continue the marathon.

Throughout the course of the movie, you had inched closer to each other ever so slowly. Using the excuse of forgetting to move back after stealing a snack, or having to move in order to have an equal amount of blankets, results in the most awkward move you’ve ever seen someone pull. Michael, under the guise of shifting to get more comfortable, tries to sneakily slide his arm around your shoulders. You notice the ploy almost immediately, and smirk at him when he thinks he’s pulled it off.

“Really? What teen movies have you been watching lately?”

“You knew?” Michael asks, withdrawing his arm from where it’s sitting around your shoulders.

“Michael, that’s one of the oldest tricks in the book. Of course I knew.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, cheeks bright red as he looks back at the screen.

“Just because I called you out on it doesn’t mean that I’m not fine with it.” You’re not sure where this sudden streak of bravery came from, but you’re going to take it and run with it. Grabbing his hand, you place it in the previous position of being draped over your shoulders. Leaning into Michael’s side, your head rests on his chest as your eyes go back to the movie. “This good?”

“Yeah, this is--it’s fine,” Michael’s voice comes out at a higher pitch than normal, and you bite your lip to keep from laughing.

It’s a lot more difficult to continue watching the movie as the night wears on, and you find yourself more focused on just trying to keep your eyes open than on how Harry and his friends are going to figure out what’s petrifying the students. Michael can tell that you’re on the verge of sleep, nudging you gently every time you start to nod off. “I’m up,” you’ll always reply, “just resting my eyes for a sec.” It’s amusing, and he would send you to bed were you not so adamant that you’re completely awake.

“(Y/N)?” Michael calls gently, your tired eyes flickering up to him.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think that...well, do you think that you could ever, uh, like me?”

“I do like you, dumbass. Why else do you think I’m sitting here watching movies with you?”

“I know you like me as a friend, but I mean--could you ever see yourself thinking of me as something more?”

“Is this because of what I said earlier, about your legacy?”

“Yes and no. This is something that has been on my mind for quite some time.” You’re awake now, and you sit up and pull yourself out of his embrace.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

“I’d rather we discuss it now,” Michael says carefully, knowing that you’re starting to get stand-offish. “(Y/N), you’re very aware of my feelings for you and that I believe what my father has told me about the two of us. I just want to know--I deserve to know how you feel about me.”

“Do you even know how hard it was for me to trust you after you kidnapped me?” you ask, standing up and clicking the TV off. Michael stands up with you, making sure you don’t run off before he’s gotten some answers.

“I thought we were over that by now!”

“We are, but--”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“The issue is that you’ve been in love with me from the moment you first saw me, and I don’t even know if I can let myself have romantic feelings for the fucking Antichrist!” The anger in Michael’s eyes is extinguished, replaced with a crushing sadness.

“You told me that you didn’t blame me for how I was born,” he says quietly. You bite your lip, realizing you just hit him in his weak spot.

“I don’t, Michael, but you’ve also done a lot of bad things, you’re doing bad things, and you’ll continue to do bad things.”

“I would never do those bad things to you. Everything I do is to benefit the plan that my father has.”

“But what if one day his plan changes and you have to kill me?” you shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself to protect against the sudden chill in the air. “You can make all of the excuses you want, but at the end of the day you’re still the Devil’s son, murdering and plotting the end of the world.”

You should have stopped long before this, but the words just won’t stop flowing out of you now that you’ve spilled them. Michael runs his hand down his jaw, nodding slowly. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

He’s thrown you off, and you’re sure it’s obvious that he has. “What?” You’re expecting him to yell, throw things, and maybe slap you again. Instead, he’s eerily calm.

“I asked for you to be honest, and you were, so thank you.” He turns to leave, his movements stilting and robotic.

“Michael,” you reach for him, unsure of what you should do.

“Get some sleep, you’ve had a long day.” Michael smiles weakly at you, his hand resting on the door frame. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You nod dumbly, mutely, unable to do anything but watch as he leaves. Suddenly, you’re entirely too aware of how he must have felt all the times he wounded you with only his words. It’s a bitter feeling, one that replaces the lingering sweet taste of candy with sour words you had spilled so recklessly. It’s a taste that won’t go away, long after brushing your teeth and falling asleep with the taste of salty tears on your tongue.

/////////////////////////

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