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matttgirlies · 1 month

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Matt & Me🎀

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a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - drinking,, sexual references

y/nn = your nickname if your confused🩷

Chapter 8

After Christmas we did something exciting every night, usually beginning after midnight. Sometimes Matt rented either the Memphian or the Malco theater to watch movies. Other times he rented the entire Rainbow Skating Rink, the infamous roller rink I’d heard so much about.

My first night there I was lacing up my skates when the boys asked me, “Do you know how to skate?”

“Sure,” I said.

“But do you know how to skate?” they persisted.

I got the message real fast when a box of knee pads was passed around. This was not your ordinary around the rink to organ music skating. The idea here was to keep your bones intact.

I wobbled onto the rink only to wobble off. I wasn’t about to stay on that floor after seeing the determined looks on the other skaters’ faces. They made the Roller Derby look mild. From the sideline, I watched them rounding the rink, adjusting their jackets and shirts so they weren’t too tight and checking that their arms and legs were securely padded.

Then Matt skated into their midst, calling out, “Okay, everybody. Y’all clear the way on the sidelines. I don’t want anybody hurt over there. Honey, why don’t you get on the other side there with Louise [Gene Smith’s wife]. The rest of you, get your asses somewhere else.” They all started laughing, and he said, “Okay, let’s go!”

About twenty-five skaters locked hands, forming what they called a whip. Skating abreast, they began circling the rink, building up speed. The objective of the game was to remain unscathed at speeds of over ten miles per hour. It could be very dangerous if you were to lose your balance or if you were at the tail end, when, by turning quickly, they all “cracked the whip.”

There were a lot of falls, but despite the danger, Matt seemed to know exactly what he was doing. I noticed that whenever someone was hurt, he was the first to see if they were all right and to decide if they should continue to play.

I still don’t know how anybody kept from getting seriously injured, yet no one complained and most of them were even willing to do it again the next night. It was rough, but as Matt put it, “If you’re man enough to get out there, then you better be man enough to take the licks.”

New Year’s Eve was approaching. Matt told Alan to rent the Manhattan Club for the evening and to invite about two hundred people, Matt’s friends and the presidents and other members of his fan clubs.

Although I was excited about the party, I couldn’t help thinking that after New Year’s Eve I would have to leave. Matt kept telling me not to think about it. I noticed that whenever I mentioned a problem to him he’d just say, “It’ll all work out, don’t worry about it. I’ve got enough to think about without having to worry about that.”

He always avoided problems. If I was disturbed or depressed, or if I felt we were becoming distant and wanted to get closer by talking it out, he avoided me or told me my timing was bad. There was never a good time.

Once I reproached him about the attention he was lavishing on the girlfriend of one of the regulars. She was very attractive, about my height, with black hair and a nice figure. She had come into the kitchen, where several of us were sitting, and Matt, who was wearing dark sunglasses, began making comments like, “Boy, it’s getting warm in here. Anybody else warm?”

I was so upset I left the room. I waited for him to go upstairs, then followed shortly behind him. “Matt, I have to talk to you,” I said.

“Sure, Honey, what is it?”

“I saw the way you were eyeing that girl. It upset me.”

“Look, woman,” he said, losing his temper. “No one tells me who I can look at and who I can’t. Besides, your imagination’s getting carried away. I’ve seen her ass around here long before today.”

With that I stomped out, slamming the bedroom door. I felt betrayed that he’d even desire another woman and was annoyed that he’d never admit it. I became obsessed and watched what Matt liked, what attracted him, trying to be everything he ever imagined a woman could be, and more.

The New Year’s Eve party at the Manhattan Club started around 10 p.m., but Matt timed our arrival a few minutes before midnight. We just had time to order double screwdrivers when the countdown began. Then we all sang “Auld Lang Syne.”

As people shouted “Happy New Year!” Matt pulled me close and said, “Baby, I don’t want you to go back. You’re staying here. We’ll call your parents in the morning.”

I was in such a state of ecstasy that I didn’t notice what I was drinking: four double screwdrivers, all drunk through a straw. After one double, I was feeling high; after four, I was reeling. I went into the ladies’ room with Louise and stayed there for what seemed like hours, swaying back and forth in the stall, trying to get myself together.

When we finally returned to the table, I tried to act as if everything was okay, but Matt took one look at me and said, “Baby, we better get you home. You’re in no condition to be here.” He asked his old friend George Klein, the Memphis disc jockey, if he would take me home.

I spent most of the ride back to Graceland with my head out the window. George and his date walked me to the door, where we said good night, and I let myself in.

Gripping the banister, I slowly climbed the white stairs, shedding my clothing as I went: my jacket, purse, shoes, and blouse left in a long trail up the steps. By the time I reached the bedroom I was wearing only my bra and panties. I collapsed on the bed and passed out.

A few hours later I heard Matt tiptoe into the room and come over to me. His condition was not much better than mine. I could make out his silhouette against the ceiling above me. I didn’t stir. Gently, he took off the rest of my clothes. Then he kissed me and kissed me over and over. This night we almost went too far. His vow was nearly broken. My passion had gotten to him and under the influence of alcohol, he weakened. Then, before I knew what happened, he withdrew saying, “No. Not like this.” It had to be special, just as he’d always planned.

I have to admit that, at that moment i didn’t care if it was special and I didn’t care what he’d vowed. I didn’t care, in fact, what he wanted at all. I only knew I wanted him.

The next morning my head throbbed with a terrible hangover. I felt ashamed and embarrassed—and yet not at all sorry about what we’d done. He was a little closer to being all mine.

The moment of truth came when we called my father in Germany. Matt was on the extension in his office and I was on another phone somewhere else in the house. Though the connection to Wiesbaden was filled with static, there was no mistaking my father’s words.

“Young lady, I will not go through this conversation again. We made an agreement. You were to leave there on the second of January. You’ve got one day left and you’d better be on that flight!”

Matt interjected, “Captain, sir, if she could just stay a couple more days. I have to be back in L.A. soon, and it would be nice—”

“Matt, I can’t do that. She has to be back in school and that was the deal. I’m sorry. y/n y/ln, are you there?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“We’ll be at the airport. You know the time; we’ll see you then.”

I was furious. I flew into Matt’s office where, sitting behind his desk, he was just hanging up.

“I hate them. I hate them both,” I yelled like a spoiled child. “Why are they stopping us? They just want me home to babysit, to take care of the kids, that’s all.”

Matt’s face was flushed with anger. “We made a goddamn agreement—who the hell does he think he is, talking like that on the goddamn phone—him and his military upbringing.”

He grabbed the phone and called down to the kitchen, demanding, “Where’s my dad! He down there? Tell him to come upstairs to the office.”

Within seconds James was at the door. “What is it, Son?”

“Goddamn Captain y/ln,” he shouted. “We just called to see if y/nn could stay a few more days and he comes off with this cocky attitude and refuses with his jargon about making agreements.”

“Now calm down, Son. It ain’t that bad. He was probably just concerned about her being home in time for school.”

“School, what the hell do I care about school?” Matt snapped, ignoring James’s efforts to soothe him. “Put her into school here, that’ll solve everything. She doesn’t need school. Hell, they don’t teach you anything nowadays anyway.”

“Well, Son, she’s gonna have to go back, there ain’t no two ways about it, give or take a day or two.”

“Goddamn, Dad, you’re not helpin’ matters any,” Matt said, but he was beginning to calm down. He sat back in his big desk chair and swiveled it around to face the window, then gazed out toward the pastures. Finally he turned around and announced that he had a plan.

Matt’s strategy called for me to return to Germany and to arrive in good spirits, then to concentrate on doing well in school so that my parents wouldn’t be able to use my poor grades as an excuse for not letting me return. Matt wanted me to finish high school in Boston and to that end he would make arrangements for me to return as soon as possible.

Germany

Although Matt said that I should greet my parents with a friendly smile, from the moment I got off the plane, my attitude was one of defiance. I now believed that my parents were a threat to my future happiness. I didn’t realize that their fears and concerns were entirely reasonable. All that mattered to me was what Matt and I wanted, and no one was going to stand in our way.

The weather was cold and dreary, which certainly didn’t help my mood. I walked through customs to find my parents waiting. Noting my attitude, their expressions were cool, their welcome stiff. No loving arms wrapped around me, no loving words greeted me. Only my father’s abrupt order, “Let’s go.”

The drive back to Wiesbaden seemed longer than forty-five minutes. I sat in the backseat in icy silence. No one mentioned my request to stay at Graceland.

“All in all, did you have a nice time?” Dad ventured.

“Yes,” I replied, looking out the window at the clusters of trees bare from the harsh winter.

“Did Matt like your present?” Mother asked hopefully.

“Yes,” I assured her. “He loved it.”

“Was it as cold in Boston as it gets here?” Dad asked, keeping the conversation light, trying to make me open up and talk.

“No, it’s colder here,” I replied sharply, referring to both the weather and my attitude. Our eyes met in the rearview mirror and surprisingly, Dad looked away rather than reacting to my cutting remark.

I knew I was pushing my luck with them, but I couldn’t suppress my feelings and pretend that everything was all right. I was so deeply in love that chitchat seemed pointless—as did everything except for Matt. I remembered how he had held me before we said goodbye, with such emotion and need that nothing could keep me away from him. How could I explain these adult feelings to my parents who, I thought, could never understand and would think me silly or just infatuated?

When we arrived home Dad said, “Well, you’ve got school tomorrow, so try to get as much rest as you can tonight.”

Mom added, “You should have dinner and get right to bed.”

Did they both honestly think that I could slip back into the routine of ordinary life?

I rebelled against going to school. I skipped classes, went to town, and downed a few beers with whoever I could get to join me. My attitude worsened along with my grades.

My parents were as confused as any caring parents would be, hoping the problem would eventually go away. But I didn’t make it easy for them. What had started out as a simple introduction to the world’s greatest rock-and-roll star had turned into a nightmare for them.

Matt began calling me almost immediately, and we’d talk for hours. My parents heard me whispering and giggling till three in the morning and wondered what on earth we could be talking about for so long. Nothing really—yet it seemed like everything.

I began to reveal to my mother that Matt and I loved each other and longed to be together. Finally one day I summoned the courage to tell her that Matt wanted me to finish school in Boston. Her response: an unqualified no. She felt it could wait until my father’s tour of duty was over. That would be the end of summer, she said, and there was no need for me to return to Matt sooner.

“But Mother,” I pleaded, “you don’t understand. He wants me there with him.”

“Why you?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion. “Why can’t he find someone his own age? You’re only sixteen. What is this man doing to our family?”

She buried her face in her hands and began crying.

I did feel sorry for her. We were always close, she was always there for me, but this time she just didn’t understand. I hated seeing her in pain, but nothing seemed more important to me than Matt. Not even my mother.

“He’s not anything like you imagine,” I said, “and he needs me, Mother. I won’t get hurt. Please talk to Dad.”

Slowly she raised her head and looked at me.

“y/nn, I’d never forgive myself if I let you go and if you came back to us with a broken heart. You’re so young! You have no idea what lies ahead of you. All you know is you’re in love. Do you know how difficult that is to fight?” She sighed. “I wouldn’t wish this on any parent.”

She brushed away her tears and after a moment said, “All right, I’ll talk to your father, but not just yet. It’s still too soon.”

I gave her a big hug and whispered, “Thank you, Mother. I know you can do it. I love you.”

Now I had to wait for my mother to intercede. I knew how much my father was against the idea. My parents still didn’t really know Matt’s intentions toward me. They only knew what I had told them. But they had also read in the newspapers that Matt was dating every one of the female costars in his movies, so naturally they were suspicious.

One day on the phone I told Matt, “If you want me to come back and go to school, you’re going to have to talk to my father yourself.”

“Put him on,” Matt replied. “I’m not MacArthur, but I can sure as hell try.”

Drawing on all of his charm, Matt assured my father that if I was permitted to move to Boston, I wouldn’t live with him at Graceland but with his dad, James, and his wife, Angela. Matt promised to enroll me in a good Catholic school—he’d choose it himself—and make sure I graduated. He said I’d always be chaperoned and that he’d care for me in every way. Declaring his intentions honorable, he swore that he loved and needed and respected me. In fact, he couldn’t live without me, he said, intimating that one day we’d marry.

This left my parents in a dilemma. If Matt were as sincere as he sounded, there was a chance that our relationship might work out. But if it didn’t work out, they ran the risk of my returning to them disillusioned and brokenhearted. If they refused to let me go, I might never forgive them and I would bitterly regret this unfulfilled love for the rest of my life. In that light, there was little they could do but say yes, and eventually they did.

In truth, I was as mystified as my parents were about why Matt wanted me to come live with him. I think he was attracted by the fact that I had a normal, stable childhood, and that I was very responsible, having helped my parents raise my younger brothers and sister. I was more mature at sixteen than I was at fourteen, when he’d met me, not only because I’d gone through the normal growing period, but also because I’d experienced the pain of living without him for those two years.

Most of all, he knew he could depend on me. I wasn’t interested in a career, in Hollywood, or in anything else that would draw my attention away from him. I also had all of the physical attributes that Matt liked, the fundamentals he could use in turning me into his ideal woman. In short, I had everything that Matt had been looking for in a woman: youth and innocence, total devotion, and no problems of my own. And I was hard to get.

I intended to do whatever I had to to hold him, because if he had ever sent me home, it would have meant not only that I’d been wrong in going to him, but that my parents had been wrong for having permitted it. I firmly resolved to make our relationship work, no matter what.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - do you guys like longer chapters like this?🎀

#matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturn #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #Spotify

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shallowseeker · 10 months

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Dean’s grief on speedrun

How long was Cas dead, anyway?

I think they reunited around day 18-24 days ish. The scripts give us some clues. (Based on this post)

==Dean is grieving hard==

He’s not in denial, like Sam seems to be -> “Is he really dead?” “You know he is.”

And because Dean now knows Chuck & Amara, he’s not getting stuck in bargaining stage (his usual MO). There is no door of hope to leave ajar after the cosmic consequences are rendered. (Not even the symbolic going-through-the-motions kind that he never intends to open again.)

No, this time, Dean’s in the throes of an incredibly frightening, paralyzing despair (images).

This is partially due to the fact that he saw it coming, and he fought so hard. He resolved to avoid the looming, cosmic consequences, to “not let Cas walk away, not again (script).” Dean made up his mind to act to protect the, “everything he’s ever wanted (script).”

And still, everything went so wrong.

///

The grief, then, is different. It’s a despair born of crushed hopes and dreams. Not to mention, forgiveness and acceptance—as Dean got onboard to help Cas, regardless of his own misgivings, because Cas “had faith in the kid.”

After everyone dies, Dean pleads with God/Chuck. Chuck is the one who brought Cas back before and the only one who seems able to rebuild angels. He doesn’t answer.

Even though Dean had a special connection to Amara, the one who resurrected his burned-up, supposed-to-stay-dead mother, she doesn’t answer either.

This time, he knows they’re out there, perhaps even listening. And they’re not answering because Dean’s run out of free passes and miracles.

This time, that knowledge crushes him where he stands.

///

DAY 1-2 (Lost and Found)

13x01 starts in the twilight hours after the big Lucifer fight.

Dean takes a shot at Jack, and Jack flees.

Heaven and Hell hunt them relentlessly.

They retrieve Jack from North Cove police station.

An angel stabs Jack in the chest with an angel blade, and he seems astonished to be “fine.”

Sam and Dean take time to grieve and scatter ashes.

The funeral occurs that evening, and they quickly get on the road.

///

DAY 3 ish (The Rising Son)

In 13x02, they're still driving home from the funeral towards the bunker, "12 hours till we get home," and Sam convinces Dean to stop at a motel.

Addition: When they eat, Jack remarks that he's 3 days old. "3 days, 17 hours, and 42 minutes."

Over the course of this episode, per the script, 2 days pass.

They eat dinner, go to a tattoo parlor, meet up with Donatello, and stay overnight in the motel.

Heaven and Hell continue to hunt them relentlessly.

Sam, Dean, and Donatello debate nature vs nurture, with Dean and Donatello leaning towards nature.

Sam psycho-analyzes Dean and delivers euphemisms to Jack about Dean “wanting to protect everyone and getting his wires crossed,” but ultimately, he isn’t forthcoming to Jack about the reality of the situation. (That is, it was Lucifer that killed Cas, and Lucifer who pulled Mary into another world--that Dean's grieving!) These important details might've helped Jack to understand his situation with a lot more clarity and grace. This will cause Jack to cool towards Sam when Dean reveals the truth during an argument.

Demons find them the next morning.

In fact, Dean nearly dies against a common demon, getting cornered on a hotel bed, but he is saved at the last minute by Sam’s interference.

Jack, tricked by Asmodeus, nearly releases the Shadim.

They drive home.

Later, Jack freaks out about being impervious to stabbing. In his new bunker room, he laments, “What the hell am I? I can’t control… whatever this is. I will hurt someone.”

Dean tells him he will be Jack's executioner if Jack loses control.

At most, it's been only 5 days since everyone died.

///

DAY 5 ish (Patience)

13x03 picks up mere hours after they get home, and it covers 5 days total. So, that brings us to a decently solid total of 10-ish days when this episode finishes.

Dean can't bear to be in the bunker with mission-mode Sam and Jack, so he takes off on a hunt.

Clearly in no shape to hunt, Dean dies at the hands of a wraith (and so does Jody). They are both saved by Patience’s interference.

Dean tells Patience there’s no joy in this life. Only pain and death.

Sam and Dean have a huge fight about Jack, during which Dean accidentally gives Jack context to the situation (re: Cas’s death, Mary’s plight). This causes Jack, already exhausted by Sam’s well-meaning training regimen, to cool towards Sam the next morning.

Cas appears to awaken in The Empty on day 9 or 10.

///

DAY 10-11 ish (The Big Empty)

13x04 SEEMS like the very next morning, because Dean AND Jack are both still chilly towards Sam. The air is described as arctic, with Dean giving Sam a, "don't even try it, motherfucker," face. Jack accuses Sam of wanting to use him as an interdimensional can opener and "being just like Asmodeus," and Sam comes clean about the truth.

Sam pushes them all to go on a case together. Jack says he doesn’t want to go at first. Sam wants Jack to go with them for the express purpose of forcing Dean to be around him and warm up to him, which isn’t fair to Dean or Jack…not really.

This storyline covers the family therapy scene (great analysis), wherein an interesting attempt at therapy is made under dishonest constraints.

Dean, still clearly in no shape to hunt, is easily overtaken by the shifter and nearly dies. He is saved by Jack’s interference.

According to the script, 13x04 occurs over 4 days. Commentary//

That means that Dean thawed to Jack, after our total of a mere 14 days. By the end of this episode, they're on shaky terms, and by the beginning of 13x06, calling out to each other in a friendly manner, "How was the case?"

Jack "puts a dent in Dean's armor," per the script, even before he saves them with his powers. Dean is doing everything he can not to like Jack, and it’s clear from the script that he’s failing.

At the end of the episode, Dean tells Sam to absorb the weight of the hunting burden, because he’s got no hope left.

Cas appears to awaken in a field on day 14. Presumably, his ashes are in the middle of nowhere, and he starts walking.

///

DAY 14-20 ish? (Advanced Thanatology)

Here’s where it gets foggier.

I can't tell exactly when 13x05 picks up with respect to the previous episode, but it seems like only a little bit of time has passed.

I would say a week at most has passed, but possibly as little as a day or two, and the case itself, per the script, covers another 4 days.

However, if Cas awoke in The Empty on day 10, and woke in the field around day 14, I think I favor a shorter timeline here with some of the “days” being overlapping back story from the case itself.

Anyway, Jack has been making his way through Sam's DVDs, "Red Sonja, Beast Master, Beast Master II." Commentary//

Sam does not intuit why Dean is up late at night/early twilight hours, making a PB & J (analysis).

Sam tries to remedy Dean’s overwhelming grief by pushing breakfast beer and strip clubs toward him. Alcohol to numb the pain + sexy stuff as a distraction. Now more than ever, Dean seems to perform those only for Sam’s benefit. (It seems Sam did not pay attention to Mia Vallens's therapy, except as a means to validate his own motives for trying to save Mary. Ouch! Poor Sam!)

Sam is not great with empathy here, bless my neuroatypical man-child. He’s dealing with a loss of his own, of course, and he’s been shown to be an impatient, mission-motivated griever (analysis).

Anyway, he’s completely at sea with Dean’s powerful grief, and he seems tragically unaware of Dean's close calls/being off his game over the course of the last few hunts.

Sam, perhaps understandably, wants Dean to be there for him n’ Jack, as caretaker and comrade, but Dean is too mentally wounded to bear the weight of that expectation. (Btw, I don’t think Sam really “gets” the Cas thing till 15x09 The Trap: Sam’s future is symbolized by Eileen-as-hope (analysis) and Sam realizes Dean’s future is built around Cas-as-foundation.) Dean dies...again//

Dean attempts suicide.

He tells Billie he doesn’t matter.

After he revives, Dean tells Sam, “No. Sam, I’m not okay. I’m pretty far from okay… And I would take the hit… And now Mom and Cas… And I – I don’t know. I don’t know.”

This is an elegant parallel to season 7’s grieving Dean, about his not being able to “shake” what happened with Cas, and admitting, “he doesn’t know why.” (Cas is different. Cas has always been different.) In season 7, he also says, “I’ll do what I can,” in response to Sam telling him to get his head in the game and stay alive. Cas is a core wound in both scenarios.

///

==Death & resurrection==

So, that would bring our guesstimate to Cas reuniting with the boys around 20-24 days. So, at most a little over 3 weeks but possibly closer to 4, especially if the backstory timelines of actual “case days” overlap, like 13x05 potentially does.

I am reasonably certain Cas awakened in the field near day 14. I’d personally put the actual reunion at 18-20 ish days, and certainly not longer than a month. They reunite in early June, I think. Blackberries are a summer fruit, and there are wild blackberries in the field where Cas awakens.

Dean drives to Cas and meets up with him, "in the middle of nowhere," so it seems Cas's grave and subsequent walk to civilization was in quite a remote area.

///

Going back through this, I was pretty astounded how Dean kept dying or nearly dying in those days following Cas’s death. He was definitely in no state to be hunting.

(images from CSN, SPN wiki, fangirlism.com)

#shal meta #dean/cas #tfw + grieving #dean + grief #spn season 13 #jack kline #the don't talk about cas sam wont' touch the cas thing with a ten-foot pole and i love that about him so much #saaaaam you are so focused on things that are ACTIONABLE like saving mom

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keelt9 · 2 months

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Chapter 1

Hide And Run

Masterlist

“Ghost rider 1, ghost rider 1.” No matter how hard I tried still my hands seemed to hold a fucking popsicle slipping between them, it supposed I know what to do, but with the sounds inside of the plane combine with the bellowed voice of Riley make all my actions a complet mess.

“Y/N! EJECT.”

“Miss? Are you alright?” The taxi driver asks me as he moves my arm, I open my eyes and realize we are parking in front of my parents house; 19 months and the same nightmare come from time to time.

“Sorry, I’m ok, thanks…” I opened the door not before paying the 15 dollars from the airport to home. I walk through the little garden which my mom built along all these years. She starts it like some kind of stress reliever. She says every deployment or mission from me or my father it’s a new plant in the garden; in my father's case only he and God knows how many missions he had and for me 17 seems a nice number.

“My little butterfly.” My mom said, hugging me in the main door and dad appeared behind her.

“Sky.” The short name for <Skyhook> I get that call sign in the navy, when she splits away, she puts her hand on my cheek, and I smile with my lips pressed.

“It’s nice to have you here.” She says and pulls me inside of the house.

As the rest of the day passed without any uncomfortable talks or strange looks, until we finished the dinner and dad and I were doing the dishes.

“Maybe it is too soon.” The last month was the hardest since the accident and my dad knows that better than anyone; I left the plate in the cabinet, holding it a little bit more than normal.

“Someone returns in less than a month.” I stop but I force myself to continue. “It’s just a simple test, dad, let’s be honest, with the background I have, maybe I'll fail.” He grabs me by the shoulders and looks straight to my eyes.

“Y/N think it a little bit more, ok? Just a couple of weeks more.” I take a deep breath, and nod with my head, honestly that idea has been surrounding my head since the big week was scheduled.

3:46 hours and counting, is the time my watch the same I’ve been pushing my legs to the limit, but my mind is working at 100 per hour, tomorrow my first test begins, the navy just gave me a one more week, quote <We need you in the air, not in the ground.> I shake my head and continue running.

I was so immersed in my own thoughts when the F-18 dived off along with a little scream for the kids in the park that made my heart stop and flashbacks straight like gunshots in my mind.

“Mayday!” My fast breathing, the drops of sweat on my face. “I can’t stabilize…” My hands trying to hold the control, the sounds of the overworking in both engines.

I cover my ears trying to deafen the sounds and when I get to control myself, my watch marks a high rhythm in my heart, the beep helps me to recover, I blink and I see a little girl coming close to me. “Miss, are you alright?” She doesn’t stop liking her ice cream, making me laugh.

“Yeah, don’t worry, go somewhere fresh or your ice cream will melt faster.” My voice just murmured. It’s a hot Saturday and the summer has just begun, she nods and runs to sit on a bench covered by a tree.

I stop the timer and walk to my father’s car parking in front the main gate of the park, from time to time I lift my sight to the sky, I remember the first time I was in a plane, not a commercial plane, not a light aircraft, but a navy plane, the freedom I felt and the power I thought I had.

For the first time in almost 2 years, I realized that this week would change all I’ve work for more than 8 years, what terrifies me it’s know, in this moment I don’t even sure if continue it’s the right choice.

The next morning, I woke up around 5 am; the test begins at 08:00 hours at least I have to be in the base around 07:00, I get ready, and at the moment I get down I see my parents getting ready for breakfast.

“No, it’s not for you.” Dad says before I even complain, they stand up for my test just like they did when I was 6 years old and it was the first day of school.

“I have an important meeting; I must be ready.” He didn’t even lift his eyes from the newspaper, my mother shakes her head and offers me a cup of tea.

“Good morning by the way.” I greeted them, my mother giggled when I subtly pointed out his lack of greeting combined with the awful way of hiding his real intentions.

“SKY! Hi!” Jill screams when I enter the building. I have known Jill Green (Panther) since we entered the training at Top Gun, something you must know about Jill, she is a cheerful girl, in all the extension of the word.

“Hi, Jill. How are you?” She ran so she could walk along with me.

“Missing you, it’s not the same since you’re not here, but I heard you have already scheduled a test, isn't it amazing?” I smile, she always makes me smile.

“Well, let’s find out.”

My feet were tapping intensely when the vice admiral Beau Simpson opened the door and made me enter his office.

“Lieutenant, good to see you, please take a seat.” I obey and sit from time to time I apart my sight from him.

“Well, it’s time, like we already inform you, 1 month of constantly test on the ground and, of course, in the air, after the month, we evaluate you, if you pass, you’ll be deploy in a blink of an eye, if you’re not, well, we have a big problem.” I gulp, he put his hands over the desk. “Sky, you were born to be in the air, one of a kind, just focus…what happened years ago, you must let it go.” I turn my face. “It’s not easy but you’re a strong girl.” With my lack of answer, he stands and takes me to another room.

“The first proof it’s really treating, a psychological one, following for multiple physical ones, strategic, mechanicals and logical.” He stops at the front door and looks straight into my eyes. “Lieutenant, you have been out for more than a year, some tests will pull out the worst and the best from you, what you need to know is, nothing you’ll be going through it’s impossible and you always prove to us that.”

At the end of the first day, all seems to be go a little bit better than expect, with a good mood I was walking to the parking lot where my mother’s car is waiting; she insist at least I should take it for going to the base, she felt more comfortable if she knew I have to be focus to the road instead of the memories been here could bring me back; my steps froze in just a few meter of distance of the entrance, when I see all Dagger Team enter to the building, I meet some of them years ago, with someone I’m really close, but met them right now make my heart beating fast and be really nervous.

I resolve it with the most childish choice, I hide behind the car waiting for them to enter inside the building.

Great star Sky, hide and run.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #fanfic #rooster x reader #top gun fanfiction

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christiansorrell · 5 months

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Play-By-Blog #16: The Isle by Luke Gearing

Welcome to my ongoing play-by-blog of The Isle by Luke Gearing! We are playing this adventure with its original system, The Vanilla Game (adjusted somewhat to fit the format). You can check out the Play-By-Blog Repository to get all caught up if you wish.

How Play-By-Blog works:

I write up the situation, NPCs, and more, just like a DM.

You vote in the poll to help decide the character's course of action.

I roll the dice, resolve actions, and write them up next week.

So on and so forth for the rest of the adventure!

Notation:

[Text in brackets is out-of-character/GM text!] "Non-italicized quotes denote text from the original adventure!" "Italicized quotations denotes NPC dialogue."

Our character: Medon Girou - Magic Cutpurse

Our maps: The Isle, The Dungeon (so far)

[You can use the links above to find Medon's Character Sheet and map of the Isle and the so far uncovered portions below the surface. On the Dungeon map, you are currently in Floor 2, in the hall to the east of Room 19.]

Now, back to the adventure!

Unsure of the dangers that lie ahead, you once again sit and concentrate, being the Wizard Eye ritual. Over the next hour [6 Encounter Rolls (1 per 10 mins): only 1 triggered an event], you safely conjure the invisible arcane orb.

Midway through the ritual, you hear the crack of brittle bone against stone, new sounds from the burnt smelling room to the south. You send the Eye down the hall.

In the chamber [Room 17], you see 6 Bonded Dead, animated skeleton warriors like those that accompanied Fionn in his chamber only these wear old, rotten furs. Fionn mentioned his brother's penchant for furs and the ornamentation of their forefathers. These are mindless dead, in service of Dainéal. They march to the northern end of the room before turning and marching out the chamber's western door and into the room housing the strange sphere creature you spotted earlier in your scouting [Room 16].

Beside the now-gone Bonded Dead, you see "a burnt figure, huddled by the eastern doorway. Now barely recognizable as human." An open doorway leads east down a short hall and into another chamber.

Here [Room 18], "thick soot blackens the walls and floor." Beneath the soot, there is a slight glimmer, like a layer of flint, on the flooring. Taking several minutes to closely examine the room, you discover several details: "the ceiling has many fine holes bored into it" (nearly impossible to see from standing height) and "the floor is made of four pressure plates." To the east, there is "a door marked with images of coiling serpents falling into a pit."

You let the Wizard Eye fizzle and creep down into the room with the burnt body [Room 17]. You hear the Bonded Dead, Dainéal's patrol, marching further away, to the south [out of Room 16]. There are going away, but you do not know if or when they may be back.

The burnt body has nothing of use. Everything is burnt and charred save the few bits of armor, all missing their straps: gauntlets, a chest piece, and large plate mail boots, all battered and covered in soot.

You look into the room with the pressure plates, clearly trapped, and ponder how to proceed. There's no way to avoid all of the pressure plates by entering the room (although you do not know how much weight may be necessary to trigger them). You could Teleport again, but there's much more risk in teleporting into the next chamber without firsthand knowledge or sight of it and casting as a ritual takes time you may not have with the Bonded Dead about and casting it quickly has it's own risks of miscasting.

You have many options, none of them perfect.

[EDIT: For the options below, @wrapping-rags suggested throwing the armor pieces from the corpse into the room and onto the pressure plates (instead of having to cast Sticks to Snakes and that's a great idea so if you like that option, please vote for "Cast Sticks to Snakes" and we'll do that instead!]

[If you've got another crafty solution to evading the trap, reblog or drop a comment! I'm always up for considering creative new ways for players to outsmart the dungeon! - Christian]

PBB #17 is up now!

#meatcastle pbb #ttrpg #indie ttrpg #ttrpgs #rpg #fantasy #luke gearing #play by blog #play by post #the isle #choose your own adventure #polls

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hccn-overseer · 1 year

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Issue 9, 6/14/2023 - The Overseer

Issue Masterpost About the Overseer

This week’s news is once again accompanied by a PDF version of your latest news brought to us once again by the lovely Cheer! Pick it up right here for your viewing pleasure!

Announcement: Please Participate in the Citizen Census Survey!

By Lydia

All Citizens of the Hermit Citizen Hub are being counted in the Hermit Citizen Census! If you are a past or present participant of the Hermit Citizen Community, no matter how much or how little you have participated, we ask that you fill out one response per each of your Citizens (one survey response per character) in the Hermit Citizen Survey linked here:

If your Citizen does not have a Citizen I.D. Card, please create one and place it in a new post in the #Citizen-Information forum thread on the Hermit Citizen Hub Discord Server in addition to filling out this Survey.

This Survey asks for each Citizen’s name, species, age, height, pronouns, base location, occupation and included duties, Citizen affiliations, Hermit affiliations, and the names of any shops that are owned by each Citizen. Please answer each question to the best of your ability, and fear not if you do not have a definitive answer for each question. For example, if your Citizen does not have a base, you are more than welcome to state this as well.

We ask that you answer all of the questions OUT of character from the perspective of you as the creator, NOT as your character. For example, if your Citizen tells everyone that they are a human but they are really a shapeshifter, you should still state their species as “Shapeshifter” in the Survey. In addition, we ask that you keep each response separate for each Citizen you are referring to. For example, if you have created five Citizens, take the survey five times to ensure that all of your Citizens are accounted for accurately.

This Survey is imperative to ensuring that every Hermit Citizen is accounted for and that you can see your Citizen in the final Census. You and the Citizens you have made have crafted the history, lore, and livelihood of the Hermit Citizen world. Regardless of whether you have made a single Citizen and moved on, or if you are a daily voice in this community, the goal of this Census is to celebrate the inimitable creativity of each artist, writer, crafter, and builder who has participated in the Hermit Citizen Community.

Now onto other news below the cut!

Weekly Weather Report

By Lydia

Weather Forecast for the Hermit Citizen Hub, week of Wednesday, June 14th to Tuesday, June 20th. Temperatures are written in Celsius Format.

Wednesday - Mostly Sunny. Temperatures range from 18 degrees to 25 degrees Celsius. Earthquakes may happen more frequently than usual near The Perimeter. Flight courses will be held at 1 PM around the large floating rocks.

Thursday - Sunny and warm. Temperatures range from 22 degrees to 31 degrees Celsius. Park rangers may appear sporadically to warn Citizens of potential wildfires developing across the Server throughout the month.

Friday - Downpours. Temperatures range from 8 degrees to 15 degrees Celsius. There is a small chance of these downpours turning to thunderstorms early in the morning. If this is the case, expect skies to clear up very quickly if Bdubs is in the area.

Saturday - Cloudy, foggy during the morning and afternoon. Temperatures range from 12 degrees to 17 degrees Celsius. Growling may be heard near both Cleo’s and Cub’s museums during the evening hours.

Sunday - Sunny and hot. A heat wave is expected. Temperatures range from 29 degrees to 34 degrees Celsius. Citizens are advised to stay hydrated and limit outside exercise. This is a great day to visit the beach. Whirlpools continue to appear occasionally, so take caution if you are planning on swimming.

Monday - Partly Cloudy. Heat continues, with temperatures ranging from 31 degrees to 39 degrees Celsius. All ice cream stands in Scarland will be half-priced. They will also open two hours earlier with an additional assortment of flavors. Dust devils may be seen in all desert areas from late morning into late afternoon.

Tuesday - Rainy. The heat wave is expected to end. Showers on and off are expected among clouds throughout the morning. Temperatures range from 19 degrees to 28 degrees Celsius. Flash floods are possible throughout the evening hours. Citizens are advised to take caution if they are traveling on foot.

Astrology Corner

Have you been feeling without guidance? Do you look at your birthday, look up your star sign, and wonder, “Is The Overseer in need of a checkup?” “Am I able to timetravel? ” Don’t worry, here at The Overseer, we can help you.*

Aries: You will find a series of messages in your room which will point to a podcast that was discontinued in 2014. In that, they discuss a missing person report, which in a later episode was resolved.

Taurus: You read a book on how Newspapers work and why people misuse paper clippings of newspapers.

Gemini: When you checked in on the singular Home Depot of the server, all the duct tape and rope were sold out. You then get to do an off-server trip to get that duct tape.

Cancer: You were watching your favorite documentary, “Why Hermits Do The Things Hermits Do” and it talked about how they were being a bit silly and to always forgive and forget. Forget What?

Leo: Your birthday is on the horizon, but try not to throw a party. Things may go deeply wrong and there’s nothing you will be able to do about it. Watch the magazine articles, they’ll be the only thing that can give you a clue. Do not let the moon see your work.

Virgo: You should be wary of Aquarius. They may seem harmless and always want to help but there have been a lot of articles revolving around them lately.

Libra: Bring popcorn to the Perimeter you will need it due to what is happening with Virgo and Aquarius.

Scorpio: You notice there’s a lot of tension between Virgo and Aquarius lately that no one seems to know the reason behind it. You may want to dig into it and find out what’s the matter before something explodes.

Sagittarius: Make sure to prepare the shelter, do not deny you don’t have it. You do.

Capricorn: You never knew the origin of your family, and maybe that was for the best. You should not look into it as that will not help your situation.

Aquarius: Don’t mind Virgo’s suspiciousness, there’s been a lot of rumours going around lately and they’re probably nervous. Maybe you should bake them something to calm their nerves!

Pisces: Somethings coming…

All star signs: Help.

*Ignore how blatantly specific these are. Nothing bad will happen to you.

Editor's Note: ██████ ██████ ███ ██████████ ████ ████

Lost and Found

By Lydia

All of the following items have been brought to The Overseer staff’s office for safekeeping until they are claimed. If you recognize one of these items as yours, please visit us to receive your items, or contact us at [email protected]*. Thank you! *Not a real email address.

Item 1: A set of watercolor paintings all depicting builds from other servers. These watercolor paintings measure approximately 16 x 20 inches each, all featuring various structures built by the participants of our server. Each of these paintings has a thin black frame. The bases depicted include the following:

A large, whimsical house with a heavily detailed interior, basement, and bright roof next to a custom-built copper tree, created by Redfeather.

A cozy medium-sized tree house with pink doors and dark wood framing nestled among several cherry trees, made by Sami Bear.

A sturdy iron farm built in the desert with red decor and two massive turrets, made by Okami.

A tall wizard’s tower with stained-glass windows, several complementary textures, a full telescope, bookshelves from floor to ceiling and a spiral staircase inside, and conical roofs, located in a spooky forest, created by Redfeather.

A spacious section of a village featuring a large family home built from stone and wood and three-row houses, perfect for any roaming travelers to settle down, created by Roo.

If these paintings are yours, by all means, continue painting after you have picked these up, as your skills are quite remarkable!

Item 2: 50 Assorted origami dragons. Small enough to fit into the palm of your hand, these dragons were made from paper of every color you can imagine, with each fold carefully placed to give these miniature depictions a reflection of fine-tuned craftsmanship. These dragons include Albanian bollas, Slavic dragons, wyverns, sea dragons, and cockatrices. If these dragons are yours, we admire the patience it must have taken to design such a wonderful collection!

Item 3: A wood carving sculpture in the shape of a 500-type rotary telephone. This sculpture is about the size of a real rotary telephone, painted in pink and cyan. Due to the medium used, a telephone coil was created from aluminum craft wire to connect its two pieces. The creator of the sculpture has somehow made it possible to dial the numbers, and static plays through the holes depicting the phone’s speakers.

Item 4: A series of journal notes written in black ink with a calligraphy pen. These journal pages appear to be ripped out of a book and have yellowed with age. The writing speaks of several events of someone’s journey through various servers before making their way to Hermitcraft. While some of the writing is difficult to read, we can parse that the person writing them was on the run from an overarching being and was not certain that they would survive much longer due to the number of hunters chasing them down.

Item 5: Several yards of fabric of many colors and patterns. These fabrics come in gold, blue, green, purple, and red, and depict patterns of polka dots, stripes, small butterflies, paisley, loops, confetti, and leaves. The fabrics that do not depict any patterns at all include chiffon, velvet, polyester, and crepe. No sewing tools were found with this assortment. A set of notes regarding a costume design were found with the fabrics, noting specific details about which ones are to be used and how.

ADVERTISEMENTS

—————————————————

Get ready for the biggest party of the social season! On next Sunday, the 24th, The Garden Masquerade will finally open in the Astral Library. The event is going to last a week, so there’s no need to rush, but try not to stay in the ballroom the whole time.

—————————————————

Psst, hey you. Yeah, the one reading this. Are you an Avian? Y’know, one of the people with the flap flaps that can’t see glass panes? Ye, we have a place for you to not feel judged and will always be supported. The Birdhouse is always open for fellow Avians to come hang out.

—————————————————

Break out your pumpkin heads for this week’s Garden Club meeting! We’re going on a trip to The End to help out the Grian Affiliates within our group. Their adopted dragons could use a trip home.

—————————————————

Are you worried about one of the Hermits judging your build? Worried about not meeting some kind of secret standard or code? Well don’t worry! The SSS is here to help you! We’ll make sure that your base is secure, and if there’s nothing wrong with it we’ll fight for your sake.

—————————————————

Fun and Games

This week's fun and games are brought to you by Azure and Snuffy

Word Search and Crossword by Azure

Coloring Page by Snuffy

Brain Teasers by Azure

#issue #hermitcitizen #pdf edition #hccn weather #hccn astrology corner #hccn lost and found #hccn advertisements #hccn fun and games

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months

Text

Don't Speak 17

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Are we ready to hate Andy some more? It seems to be a pattern around here.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Your head swells, throbbing even in the silence. You can hear Andy once in a while, distant and vague, moving around the floor below. You hug your stomach as it caves in on itself. You know you’re hungry but the thought of food just makes you nauseous. You stay hidden, behind your eyelids, beneath the blankets, and wallow in hellish agony.

The pain dulls as you hear the window rattle. You dare to glance past your lashes and see a few droplets along the glass, the sky dark and swarthy with clouds. The glare of streetlights glints off the pelleting rain as it speckles the window.

Some pressure lets off but not enough. You roll over and sink down again. You long for sleep, you crave it. Those long, deep sleeps that make the hours disappear, that skew days, and help forget your life. That heavy void next to death.

You hover between the guest room and your unconscious. Like a pendulum you swing between what’s real and the doubts that paint dire visions on your eyelids. Amber’s pleas at the library, her accusations, her disappointment. You almost want to believe she’s telling the truth. That maybe you are wrong.

Even if you are, it’s too late. That futility drags you further down the pit. You fall onto your back and drape your arm over your face. You whimper as your whole body aches.

“Dove,” Andy’s voice startles you.

You let your arm slip down to your chest as you see his shadow in the doorway. He fills it easily, appearing even bigger as the light behind from the hallway limns his silhouette. He steps over the threshold and closes the door. You whimper as you lose him in the dark. You can’t tell if this is a nightmare or not.

He finds his way to the small lamp on the bedside table, a loud click before it blooms to life. You groan again as he looks down at you. His hands go to his hips as you shield yours over your eyes. Even the soft yellow haze is too much for you.

You shut your eyes and feel the bed shift. He sits on the edge and you wince as he touches your arm. He is as hot as fire. You want him to go. You want to be alone. The only person who’s ever seen you like this is Amber, you don’t want him to know how truly pathetic you are.

“Hey,” he coos softly, “you alright?”

Your mouth is dry. Your throat too. You have to peel your tongue back to make it work and swallow deeply, trying to wet it. Your voice crackles as you force it out, “sleepy. My head hurts.”

“Aw, honey,” he touches your forehead. His warmth is almost soothing as he covers your skin with his palm. The scent of his cologne whispers up your nose. “How about I get you some tea? You should have something to drink at least.”

“I’m… just going to sleep,” you wilt as you try to turn your face away from him. He is too strong. “I’m okay…”

“Honey,” he girds as he brings his hand down your cheek and strokes it, “you haven’t been eating. I’m not stupid. Have some tea, that’s the least you can do.”

“Andy…” you squeak and reach up to touch the back of his hand, only to recoil shyly as you feel the thick veins along the back of it, “I’ll eat tomorrow.”

“Dove, you’re going to sit up,” he insists, trailing his hand down your neck, a shiver crawling over you as his other brushes up your arm.

When he has you firmly by the shoulders, he sits you up. You whimper as the stabbing pain it sends up your spine to the base of your skull. Your head lolls forward and you hold it, whining at the thrumming agony.

“Andy… please,” you croak, “I need to sleep.”

“No, you need to take care of yourself,” he retorts, leaning in to fix the pillows behind you. He stacks them up and props you back against them, “alright, you stay like that,” he folds the blanket to your waist, “and I’ll go make you some tea.”

“It hurts,” you keep your head in your hand, “I told you…”

“Look, Amber let you be like this, because that meant she could control you,” he rests his hand on your leg. You twitch and keep your face hidden as you peek past your palm, staring at his fingers. On you. Touching you. “You’re not going to fall back into old habits, right, honey?”

He finally moves his hand away from your lap and pulls yours from your face, “you’re going to be better, I know it. You know, I’m just helping you. I’m helping break the patterns she made.” He gives a stern frown, “she conditioned you to be like this, you are not this.”

“Please,” you yank your hand down and clasp both over your chest, “I’m tired… I feel sick.”

“You aren’t sick. You’ve been starving yourself,” he accuses, “you’re lucky I didn’t make you sit at that table and clear a plate. What I am going to do is watch you drink the tea I make you. All of it.”

He stands and heaves darkly. You move your arms to hug yourself and hang your head. You’re ashamed. Amber was never like this, she was always subtle, she never accused you. But maybe that’s the problem. Maybe he’s right. She only enabled your helplessness.

You sniff, “thank you, Andy.”

He hums, gristly like a growl, and touches your hair, “I’m only trying to help, dove.”

“I know,” you squeak and keep your eyes down, ashamed.

He turns stiffly on his heel. You wait as he leaves, almost reluctantly, and shudder as another tide of pain flows through you. You ache to the bone, your insides feel as if they’re peeling away, and your head is pounding like a drum.

You let your head fall back against the pillows as you slouch into them. You don’t have the strength to sit up. Your arms slip down and your hands lay lazily on your lap.

You listen to the small clinks and creaks from below. The house muffles a lot of sound, you might even assume the little noises were nothing more than the natural settling of the house. Andy’s footsteps aren’t clear until they’re down the hall and you brace yourself for his arrival.

He comes into the room with a steaming cup. You notice the gray dove painted on the porcelain, a string of leaves framing it. He lowers himself to the edge of the bed again and takes your hand. He puts the cup in your hand, weaving your fingers through the handle before cautiously letting go.

You bring the rim near your nose and inhale. You blow away the steam but it rises quickly again. You feel the heat roiling off of it. You lower it to rest in your lap and raise your drooping eyes to Andy. He’s watching you intently.

“I’m sorry,” you utter.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, “I’m worried. I wanna make sure you’re okay. You being sorry means I’m angry. I’m not.”

You gulp down your words. He sure sounds angry. You look back at the amber coloured tea. It smells slightly gingery but you’re not sure of the flavour.

“Promise, I’ll drink it.”

“Like I said, I’m not going until you do,” he says.

“It’s really hot.”

“So wait for it to cool down,” he instructs as if you’re a child. “I don’t mind waiting.”

You languish in the ensuing silence. Your eyes are drawn to the subtle twiddle of his fingers, how he runs his thumb up the side of his index. You only notice then that he’s changed. He’s in a pair of gray sweats and a dark blue tee. He must be on his way to bed. That thought makes you feel worse; you’re keeping him awake.

You raise the cup and blow on it again. You brave the scald of the tea and take a big gulp. You force it down as the heat rolls over you. It is soothing if not a bit stringent.

“Good,” he says as he turns his head, “is it okay?”

“Mhhm,” you nod, not able to muster the fib out loud. The flavour tugs at your cheeks and clings to your tongue.

“Dove,” he softens his tone, “I’m sorry if I come across angry, it’s not what I mean, you know? I always had that problem. My worry translates to something else. I could never be angry with you, but I’m scared.”

“Scared?” You lean the cup on your chest, cradling it with both hands.

“Yeah, I’m scared for you,” he says as if it’s obvious, “seeing you the way you’ve been, I want you to be healthy. I want you to be happy.”

Your eyes sting and you lower your lashes. You’re embarrassed. Despite all your effort, he saw through you.

“Tomorrow’s a new day, huh? You’ll get up and have breakfast with me, and we’ll start again,” he puts his hand on your knee, squeezing through the blankets, “I’m here for you, honey. We’re in this together.”

You stare into the tea. His words make your heart race. Together? His touch adds to the fluttering. His thumb moves, back and forth, and you repress a shudder. You never noticed before how often he touches you. You’re not used to it.

“Okay…” you resign to the depths of the tea, “I’ll try.”

🍵

You don’t get out of bed the next day. You can’t. You hug a pillow over your head, your tears staining the bedsheet as they slip out unbidden. You feel that hollowness, the sort in which you feel like everything inside you is just draining out of you.

When Andy comes down the hall, you hear him. You listen to the bathroom door click and the subsequent flush of the toilet. There’s some time before he emerges again and he continues to the stairs. You exhale, thinking he might have forgotten your empty promise.

No. He returns. He steps echoing and sonorous in your mind as he comes back upstairs. He taps on your door. You don’t move. He knocks louder and calls your name. You can’t.

He opens the door, “dove,” he says.

You stay still, arm hooked over the pillow you keep over your head. You sense him get near but don’t react as you feel him grip your shoulder. He shakes you but you don’t respond. It’s as if he exists on the other side of a wall.

“Dove, come on, I’m gonna get breakfast ready,” his voice sounds miles away despite his proximity, “you like pancakes?”

Your stomach growls loudly. You let it constrict but don’t move. You feel a tug on the pillow and grasp it tighter. Can’t he take a hint? Go away. Leave me alone.

He grabs the pillow with both hands and rips it away. You cry out and hide beneath your bent arm. He sighs as he tosses the pillow onto the floor.

“Why are you doing this?” He rasps.

You don’t know what to say. You don’t know how to explain it. You are not doing this, but you can’t stop it. You can’t do anything, that’s the problem.

“You have a lot to do. Work on your resume? Do some painting?” He says it as if it should be encouraging, as if it isn’t oppressive and crushing. “Spend some time with me, dove.” He bends over you, rubbing your shoulder, “you’re okay. Let me take care of you, honey.”

You sniffle and remain shielded behind your arm. You feel the tension change in his touch as he grips you firmly. He puts a knee on the bed, leaning on it.

“Don’t ignore me,” his voice takes on an edge that chills you.

You suck back your tears and shake your head, speaking into the mattress, “please, go… leave me alone–”

“Honey, don’t speak to me like that,” he warns, “I’m being nice and very patient. You’ll feel better once you eat but you need to get up and get dressed.”

You tremble in a surge of dread and guilt. He’s figuring it out. You’re useless, you’re nothing.

You wriggle free of his hand and roll onto your back. You push yourself up, dizzy and wobbling as you can barely keep yourself upright. You look at him through the dim shadow of the drawn curtains.

“Please, I can’t–”

“Stop saying that,” he hisses, “you can. Why are you being like this?”

“Andy,” you whimper.

“Is this because of her? Because your sister? You know she was only ever using her and you’re what? Crying over her? I’m trying to help you move on. To help you grow. She never wanted that for you–”

“No, no! Be quiet. Don’t say that,” you cover your ears, “please, stop–”

He goes to say something but thinks better of it. You watch how his jaw squares and ticks, “but it’s the truth. You were just a toy for her. She could play with her doll and make herself feel more human.”

“Please,” you beg, panic swirling in your chest, “please, that’s not true.”

“You know it is, that’s why you’re here. That’s why you left her. Dove, you did that, not me.”

“Please, please, please,” you hunch over your knees, hugging them as you rock, “stop it. Stop.”

“I’m not going to stop telling the truth,” he sneers, “but you’re going to stop acting like a child. You’re going to get out of bed and come eat–”

He grabs your wrist and tugs it away from your legs. You feel a sudden bloom, a frantic sort of sensation, fear that drowns you to the point of gasping. You lash out with your other hand, hitting his wrist as you free your other arm. He grunts as you fall back against the mattress.

“What– why would you do that?” He growls.

“You were hurting me.”

“I’m helping you,” he insists, “you are being a brat.”

“I’m not. I told you to leave me–”

“You’re in my house, this is my bed, my room, my kindness that you are living on,” he barks over you. You wince and reel from the sheer volume, the furious tone of his voice, “the least you can do is get dressed and come eat breakfast with me.”

You clutch your cheeks and pout at him, “why are you yelling?”

He sighs and his eyes flicker. You shrink down as you stare up at him. He crosses his arms, then pulls them apart. He brings his hands up to his face and combs his fingers through his beard.

“I don’t like to yell,” his voice cracks, “I don’t yell, dove.” He turns away, “I’ve never… I’m sorry.” He strides away, still holding one side of his head, “not until you.”

He staggers, as if he can barely keep his balance, and leaves the door open in his stead. You stare after him and it all sinks in. It’s all your fault. He’s right. You’re a child, a brat, and you pushed him over the edge. He’s done all this for you and all you can do is lay in bed and mope.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #defending jacob #don't speak #series #library au #au

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anerdinallherglory · 1 year

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Approaching Sun (34)

Author’s Note: Hi! Me again! Life is consistently a wild ride. I have OCD when it comes to raising my child and want to be as emotionally and physically available as I can as a mom, so my free time is limited. I completely underestimated the SAHM gig; it’s a 24 hour job. It also takes me twice as long to knock out a chapter because I can only find the time to write during nap time. As mentioned before, I am also trying to find time to work on my own novel, so between it and AS, the time is split. For those of you who have been reading AS for a long time, thank you for your patience and dedication to the story. You guys rock. This ship will reach shore eventually. For the landlubbers, this sea is a long one. Beware the journey. P.S. I usually write around 6,000 words per chapter and this one is over 10,000! Hope that helps the wait!

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33

Chapter 34: All Wars, Theirs.

After performing her rounds at the hospital the next morning, Sakura found herself staring into Mako’s cell again as the man who betrayed her looked at her dejectedly through the bars. His head was rested back against the wall and his chin jutted forward as he watched her. Ironically, Sakura came carrying a cup of tea in her palms, debating on whether to drink it herself or offer it to Mako.

When she placed the steaming cup through the bars and onto the ground, sliding it forward carefully to refrain from sloshing it over the porcelain rim, Mako raised an eyebrow and snorted a dubious laugh. “You can’t be serious, right?”

Sakura shrugged her shoulders innocently in response. “I thought we agreed to be close colleagues again.”

He sat up straight as he responded. “I don’t remember agreeing to that. Second, we were never really close to begin with; I only ever gave you the tea to lull you into a sense of trust.”

Sakura dismissed the confession because it was already common knowledge between them anyway, and said, “Yes, yes. I’m aware.”

“Then you have a distressing sense of humor,” Mako breathed, gesturing to the tea between them as he stood from his lonely, reclined spot against the sand-constructed wall at the back of his cell. Stooping, Mako reached for the tea and cradled it in his hands all the way down as he replaced its spot on the floor with his cross-legged figure.

Sakura mirrored Mako’s sitting position on the other side of the bars strategically, a tactic she often used when talking with someone she wanted to make feel at ease.

Seeing straight through the method, Mako sipped the tea before asking sarcastically, “Am I due for another therapy session now, Doc?”

Sakura shrugged off his sardonic comment and decided to move straight to the point. “Where is the heart of your organization? Are they based in Tanigakure?”

Mako shot his eyebrows up, swallowing the tea thickly at the abrupt question. He replied with another patronizing question. “Doesn’t your Kazekage know that? Why don’t you go and ask him?”

Sakura said bluntly, “He more than likely does. But I don’t. I want you to tell me yourself.”

Mako set his tea down, suspicion darkening his gaze. “There’s a reason you don’t want to ask him, then. Tell me and I’ll consider sharing what I know with you.”

Sakura was either extremely transparent today, or Mako had truly spent their time together as physicians studying her so thoroughly that he was able to see straight through to some of her thoughts, and it gave Sakura a slithering sensation of uncertainty in her gut.

Sakura frowned back at Mako for his intuitive guess, because in all honesty, Sakura had spent the morning tending to a countless number of patients, recalling familiar faces and learning new names, and had recoiled once again at Gaara’s plans of an inevitable confrontation within Sunagakure.

Even though none of this was Sakura’s fault, she couldn’t help but feel like her presence in the Sand Village endangered the citizens here. She had wanted to believe that Gaara had everything under control, especially since Kakashi, Shikamaru, and the rest of Team 7 were here and ready to go through with plans of Gaara’s design. Sakura, too, had convinced Sasuke last night to trust in Gaara’s approach, saying: “It’s the best option we have.” To which, Sasuke had interjected with the idea of going to Tanigakure to intercept the enemy himself, saying, “A covert operation with one person wouldn’t involve Konoha and Suna. It would be discreet.”

And at first, Sakura had rejected this idea because it didn’t make sense. Sasuke had his mission. To tangle himself up in this now when he had just had a breakthrough would delay his progress and distract him from a far superior threat to Konoha. And Gaara was more than capable of handling this, but then again, Sakura believed that so was she. And so, Sakura had contemplated Sasuke’s “covert operation with one person” idea throughout the night, wondering if it wasn’t an entirely preposterous plan if only it didn’t involve the Uchiha, but her instead.

As Mako blinked at her, expecting her response, Sakura covered for herself by saying, “I just want to confirm his suspicions.”

“Liar,” he accused, and Sakura frowned again at Mako’s own forthrightness. He had stopped hiding himself, Sakura realized. He was allowing her to see who he truly was, and Sakura felt somewhat sad knowing that the kind and exceedingly thoughtful version who had fooled her truly had just been a ruse. This Mako was abrasive and it kind of reminded Sakura of the sensation of having just a little too much salt, not enough to deter you from the food, but more than enough to make you blanch and investigate the dish more carefully.

“What can I possibly do in here?” he asked as he motioned around him at Gaara’s impenetrable sand, no longer humming in the air, but solid and unyielding in its shape of the tunnels and countless cells. Sand that Sakura was sometimes wary around simply because of its desire to do its master’s bidding. As if specks of it could whisp away to speak into the Kazekage’s ear whenever it wished. Sakura knew she was being too paranoid simply because she was harboring a secret plan of her own, one that Mako was beginning to discern. Could she tell him? Should she tell him?

As if he could sense her hesitation, he added, “I did promise to spend the rest of my life—however short it may be—atoning for my actions, you know. And it’s not like I can run off and tell your secrets now, can I?”

Not entirely ready to believe him or trust in him again, Sakura sighed and told him a half-truth instead. “I want to know that, because I want to talk to the organization myself.”

Mako’s eyebrows raised and he laughed sharply. “You want to talk to them?”

Sakura nodded.

All of his false humor instantly died away at her confirmation. “Listen, if Leaf shinobi just show up there, on their turf, things are not going to go your way. They certainly aren’t going to talk to you about anything.”

“And why is that?” Sakura questioned.

“Because you are not their only target.”

Sakura’s stomach dropped at his sudden revelation. “What do you mean? I thought—”

“You are a target,” Mako interrupted, “A very big target—their most important one—but not their only one. You are at the top of the list. But after you, there will be others.”

“Like whom?” she probed.

“Anyone with power and influence whose ideals align with yours. People responsible with healing the next generation directly. Doctors, missionaries, leaders, teachers. The list goes on.”

“How many members,” Sakura asked, leaning toward the bars. “And is the Shade not the leader?”

“Not many, actually, but growing by the day.” Mako confessed easily and quickly, and Sakura could see that it was the truth. “Kasek, the man of shadow you refer to as a Shade, is one of the leaders. But there are others. He is not the mastermind.”

“Then who is?”

“I was new and never made it that far into the organization to find out. Hisa didn’t even know, and she has been involved much longer. They operate on a need-to-know basis, and she only ever consulted Kasek.”

“I see,” Sakura sighed, hoping for more intel than that.

“They are based in Tani as the Kazekage expects, but they are spread out. Or were. As they looked for you and the others. They might be dispersed and not all at the central location. From what I could gather from my conversations with the others, finding them all will be like searching for one cockroach at a time in a growing infestation.”

Sakura bit the inside of her cheek as she listened to this last bit, not entirely sure what she was expecting in the sense of her enemies’ locations. Sakura hadn’t been so naïve to hope that she could locate a singular location with all the bees inside their hive, but she had hoped for something more positive than the dismal reality that they might not be located at their base at all. This group and their teams and separation reminded Sakura, eerily of the Akatsuki. And if all of this was true (it was wise to only take Mako’s advice with a grain of salt), this brought Sakura full-circle to Gaara’s plan which was to lure them into Sunagakure. She hated to throw a wrench in any plans, but Sasuke was right. She needed to do something else, something less dangerous for everyone.

She had learned what she needed, so Sakura stood, dusting the sand off her pants.

Mako jumped up at her sudden indication of departure and blurted, “What’s your plan? I only told you this so you would think twice about whatever schemes you have. Even with your friends’ help, it’s dangerous. They will kill you.”

Sakura wanted to laugh at the preposterous idea of Naruto, Kakashi, and Sasuke being taken down by any enemy at this point. The three of them would die from old age, she was sure of it. She even had confidence in her own abilities despite how aware she was of the fact that this newly formed organization had no hesitancy to take her life. She vividly recalled how Mako had tried to convince Hisa to spare her life, arguing that she was too useful to kill. But she had bested them, hadn’t she? Even the shade who had corpsified her arms.

“Would I have really learned my lesson if I told you my plan?” Sakura asked him as she placed a hand on her hip and smiled pointedly at him. But Mako grabbed the bars between them, eyes narrowing once again.

“Listen, I know you have no reason to trust me, but take me with you.”

Sakura laughed out loud this time, unable to help herself as she covered her mouth with the soft side of her curved hand. Mako only glared. “Take you? Why on earth would I do that?”

“Because,” he hissed, “I could help you. You could use my affiliation with the group in whatever way you thought was best. They will more than likely kill me, but I could come up with something to get us in.”

Sakura’s smile disappeared. “The only help I need from you is for you to stay in this cell where you can’t stab me in the back again. I may have extended a hand of collaboration to you, but that doesn’t mean I’m dumb enough to trust you completely.”

Mako instantly responded with a frown, “You’re making a mistake.”

Sakura turned her back to him, ordering, “Start planning for your future here while I am away. The clinic needs you.”

As she began walking down the dark corridor of the underground tunnel toward the exit, she heard Mako yell after. “I? You’re going by yourself?!”

But she didn’t respond. The sand door that had fallen away before, floated back into form behind her, solidifying into a solid, soundproof barrier once more.

Despite his words last night, Sasuke was the one who was distracted. Distracted from his mission by so many different things, all of them pertaining to a certain pink-haired kunoichi whose cherry-blossom color bled into every crevice of his mind. Pale fingers tracing his back in the dark privacy of a shared room, Mako’s declaration of incoming enemies with the purpose of killing her, and Gaara’s various plans for their arrival were at the top of his thought list—right up there along with how much he wanted to throttle his blonde best friend for his incessant slurping.

Sasuke was trying to explain to Kakashi the development of his mission regarding the foodpill’s ability to lengthen his span of jump between Kaguya’s dimensions. At the mention of foodpills, however, Naruto had insisted he was going to resort to eating some of Sakura’s disgusting ‘mudballs’ himself very soon if they didn’t make a food stop and continue this discussion over a meal.

And so, this is where Sasuke currently found himself: sitting annoyingly squished in a small corner of a crowded food market stall located in the busiest section of the market square, closing his eyes tightly as Naruto shoved another bite of seasoned rice and meat stew loudly down his oversized gullet.

And now Kakashi had just brought up the very topic Sasuke had been brooding over since Gaara had announced to the group his plans on dealing with Sakura’s newfound enemies. The very topic that had Sasuke so distracted. Sasuke had been fantasizing ways to take out that lazy, spiky-haired strategist for even suggesting that Sakura be used as a lure in the first place. Shikamaru did not sit amongst them at the moment because he had “better things to do” in Suna at the moment, which thankfully kept him out of Sasuke’s sight.

“Let’s convene again with Sakura and the Kazekage this evening,” Kakashi suggested, somehow managing to eat without revealing the face behind the mask. “We need to consider the next steps carefully.”

“Gaara can handle it,” Naruto said, almost unintelligibly through a humongous bite of rice. “Whatever he says, we can trust him with it.”

“Or we could handle it,” Sasuke put out there, seeing an opportunity to change the situation and going for it instantly. “Quietly and effectively. Just us. No Sand Village.”

Naruto choked in his excitement at such a notion, agreeing with Sasuke immediately. “I like that idea better!”

“Hn,” Sasuke voiced in agreement with Naruto, whom technically had just agreed with him, but Sasuke didn’t care, because he wasn’t past emphasizing his own statement at this point.

Kakashi tapped his chopsticks thoughtfully against the table. “The situation is delicate because Tanigakure is a mostly neutral country between two shinobi villages. We can’t just go in there and start fighting a multitude of ninja who don’t represent the country as a whole. Even discreetly, the battle ensued would potentially cause too much damage. Gaara’s presence alone in Tanigakure for a few days caused some strain. Needing this fight to happen elsewhere is imperative.”

Naruto’s face had scrunched up the longer that Kakashi spoke, and the blonde knucklehead let out a thoughtful “hmmm” as he nodded his head like he had actually understood any of that. Sasuke wanted to roll his eyes and sigh.

“The Shade refuses to speak,” Kakashi continued his remarks. “We need intel, or we will be going into this blind. The Kazekage has that intel and is in the works of acquiring more information. Trusting Gaara is our best option.”

Sasuke wanted to say more, to argue, to persuade if only it weren’t so unlike him to do so. The Sasuke everyone was expecting was the uncaring one. The one who couldn’t be too bothered with any of this at all because it didn’t directly involve The Uchiha or his mission to investigate the Otsusuki. And part of Sasuke told himself to get a grip and to reign in the worry and trust the others. Sasuke knew he was being unreasonable, knew that he needed to focus on his own mission and goals. That’s what Sakura wanted, too. But Sasuke didn’t know how to wash his hands clean of this anymore, to eradicate the presence of Sakura in his mind, the feel of her skin, the embraces, smiles, and promises between them. Sasuke didn’t want to and therein lied his problem.

Kakashi was giving him that knowing sidelong look that had Sasuke glaring back at him.

“First things first, then,” The Sixth Hokage stated as he made to stand. “Let’s go find Sakura and then we can meet up with Gaara this evening.” And as Kakashi stood, the sensei suddenly realized that his former students no longer occupied the table but were making a break for the entrance, leaving Kakashi with a table full of Naruto’s dishes and an expectant storeowner smiling at him with the bill.

Sasuke heard their sensei sigh, murmur something about how he was supposed to be saving for retirement, but then handing over a wad of change to the giddy and grateful older woman.

When they located Sakura soon after in one of the medicine preparation rooms, she was bending over a mortar and pestle again, gloved hands moving deftly, and her hair pulled tightly behind her and Sasuke realized for the first time how long it had grown since they had left Konoha. The time had seemed to have passed them so quickly, and yet more than a couple months had transpired since he had returned home that day at dawn back in the Leaf. Her attire had changed overnight, and Sasuke instantly noticed that she no longer wore any of the clothes he had bought for her but had taken the liberty of finding something more fitting her previous style: red, short sleeved, and tantalizing short around the midriff. The very stomach he had ran his fingers across in the darkness of their shared room last night.

Sasuke pointedly looked away from her exposed skin as they advanced upon her position, and he decided to hang back against the entrance as Naruto and Kakashi greeted her enthusiastically. He settled into a comfortably uninterested position in typical Uchiha fashion against the wall and peeked over when Sakura elbowed Naruto’s arm when the blonde idiot shouted, “You’re making more puke pills?”

Sasuke felt a weight settle in his stomach as he made the connection that she was handling the ingredients required to make him more food pills for his mission. And from the trays set out before her, Sakura was making a lot of them. Even Kakashi glanced back Sasuke’s way as his former sensei realized Sakura’s purpose, as well.

Although somewhat touched by her effort, Sasuke feigned disinterest in the lot of them.

“Let’s have a taste!” Naruto exclaimed. “Surely, they aren’t as bad as they used to be!”

But before Naruto could touch one, Sakura pushed him away with her body. “Naruto! You need to stop that greedy habit of yours! They are made with Ashuwa, a plant that many people have severe allergic reactions to!”

Sasuke smirked silently to himself as Sakura chastised their gluttonous friend and Sasuke wanted to say something like, “Should have just let him eat it. That would teach him a lesson,” but Sasuke remained silent as Naruto shrieked at Sakura’s revelation.

The idiot jerked his entire body away from the food pills, eyes turning into round circles as he pointed at them, “Now you’re cooking can KILL people?!”

“Na-ru-tooo,” Sakura seethed in that drawn-out warning of his name she often used while considering to pommel their friend, and they all knew if she weren’t holding her gloved, Ashuwa-tainted hands up and away from everyone, Sakura would have hit him.

“They won’t kill you unless you are allergic,” Kakashi explained, motioning Naruto to take a few steps away. “How did you learn it was a common allergen?” he asked Sakura.

Her anger instantly forgotten, Sakura turned red from embarrassment and her eyes darted to the Uchiha. “After Mako told me about the plant, I tested it myself to assess the taste. I might have had a little reaction—”

Sasuke scoffed at the half-truth and spit out what she didn’t want to say. “It wasn’t little. Mako didn’t stop her from trying it, knowing how toxic it was. He was trying to kill her.” Feeling merciful, Sasuke left out the part about Sakura’s anaphylactic reaction, her face and mouth swelling up like a balloon that had left her bumbling through an explanation to a half-annoyed, half-concerned Sasuke.

Naruto instantly reddened after learning of Mako’s involvement, “THAT GUY!”

Kakashi didn’t give Naruto’s exclamation any attention, skipping over his statement immediately as he leaned curiously over the large array of food pills. “But Sasuke isn’t allergic, so these are the food pills you made for his mission? Are all of these for him, then?”

“Yes,” Sakura stated and she proceeded to relay the properties of the foodpills, their various side-effects and so on. Apparently, she had made modifications to these. They had less of a physical toll on the body and a greater number could be taken in a single dosage. They all raised their brows and glanced at one another in silent admiration; Sasuke didn’t bother to hide the small smirk of pride spreading across his face at his female companion’s astounding ability to make advancement upon advancement on something she had only just created days ago. Where had she even found the time?

“It’s not foolproof yet,” Sakura disclaimed as she hoisted a large container of compacted food pills from the counter and took slow and careful steps to Sasuke.

They both froze when her fingers bumped against his during the transfer; they also both instantly looked away from one another as the small physical contact brought memories of the more intimate touches of last night. The first physical anything other than kissing that had transpired between them had progressed so quickly and now Sasuke was back-peddling, silently berating himself for the first time about his weak willpower. They had only ever exchanged a couple kisses, something that Sasuke thought would be manageable, safe, and just enough to take that edge off, satiate that desire that suddenly choked all his stoic sense out of him. And yet, things had heated so much last night that Sakura had felt compelled to mention it. Sasuke just hadn’t expected the cravings something like running his fingers along her bare back would evoke in him. Her touching him was wonderful, but when he had touched her in return, his hand starting with her shirt and finding her skin underneath… it was erotic. And typical for Sasuke, he had balked, realizing the trajectory of their course. Because the truth was, they needed clear heads. Just as he had told her. And Sasuke’s head had been anything but clear since Sakura had joined him on his mission.

“I still need you to test them,” Sakura stated quietly, and Sasuke’s attention snapped back to his pink-haired teammate, who was still avoiding his eyes shyly. “I can make adjustments from there.”

Sasuke didn’t know what to say or do other than nod silently as he withdrew a summoning scroll and performed the justsu that would seal the foodpills within it. “Naruto could go with you, now. Go train and test one out and come back before nightfall so I can modify the recipe if I need to.”

“Great idea!” Naruto exclaimed and he ran over to Sakura’s workstation and plucked a loose pill off the counter, gulping it greedily before saying, “They still taste like mudballs, Sakura.”

“You IDIOT!” Sakura gasped, storming over to him and checking his face. “You don’t even know if you’re allergic!!!”

“I can’t let Sasuke have an unfair advantage!” Naruto announced with that stupid face-breaking grin. “I’m fine! See? If Sasuke can handle the Ass-ingredient than so can I!”

All three of them rolled their eyes at Naruto’s sense of competitiveness against his lifelong rival—Sasuke would never admit that neither of them still couldn’t stand to be outdone by the other in any way—as he stomped out the door, yelling, “Come on, Sasuke! Time to kick your ass!”

Sakura sighed, turning once again to Sasuke. “If he has a reaction, teleport him back immediately.”

Sasuke nodded, then hesitated, glancing back between Sakura and Kakashi, whom had been leaning against the counter with an amused sort of expression. “What about the Kazekage—”

“Oh,” Sakura smiled innocently as Kakashi briefly explained their intentions of visiting with her and the Kazekage about the situation at hand. “He won’t be finished until later this evening. That’s when we are supposed to all meet up.”

Sasuke nodded, already being aware of this fact. When neither of his remaining members of Team 7 said anything more to detain him, Sasuke followed his blonde rival out the door, not being able to shake the suspicious feeling that he was purposefully being sent away.

Sakura admired Kakashi for his perceptiveness because as her sensei leaned out the window to watch his two chakra pill-dosed disciples navigate through an intricate web of sand-constructed and adobe houses, he asked, “What are you planning?”

Sakura’s eyes widened when he found hers and she suddenly knew that she had been caught. Sakura sighed. “How did you guess?”

Kakashi moved away from the window to lean against the counter beside her as she finished working, whipping out his favorite scandalous Icha Icha book. “Your behavior is off. At first, I thought it was because of the evolution of your relationship with Sasuke, but…”

Sakura’s eyes grew even wider as his words registered in her mind, and she blushed furiously as she defended, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kakashi raised his hands, saying, “I won’t mention anything again. It’s between the both of you.”

Sakura turned her back to him to hide her face, not believing him for a second. He would stick his nose where it didn’t belong for the rest of their lives.

Kakashi continued, “However, I’ve known the both of you for a long time and I just want to say that I am happy for you. It looks good on you both…being in love.”

Sakura stilled her panicked faux-work movements at Kakashi’s words and turned back to face him. Even with half his face concealed by the black mask, Sakura saw the upturn of his lips and the crease of a smile beneath his exposed right-eye. She had never wanted to hug someone so tightly in her life because his words, his approval, meant so much to her. “Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes threatening to water and Kakashi nodded.

But the feeling of happiness eroded when Kakashi finished the rest of what he was trying to say before getting side-tracked. “Seeing all these food pills you’ve made in advance suggests to me that you’re not planning on being here to make more of them. Am I wrong to assume this?”

And Sakura sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she dropped her shoulders in silent defeat. “No,” she admitted. “You’re not wrong. I wanted to talk to you. As a leaf shinobi talks to their Hokage.”

Kakashi raised his eyebrow but waited for her to continue.

And she confessed to him her feelings about Gaara’s plans, Sasuke’s valid suggestion for a single-person mission to infiltrate the organization, her own plans to deal with the situation, along with the details of Mako’s information, and her carefully constructed counterplans. She told Kakashi everything she planned to do and exactly how she would do it.

Kakashi listened with a grim face, simultaneously intrigued, and sighing at each step of Sakura’s points of reasoning. When she finally finished, Kakashi stared down at his feet for a moment before lifting his eyes to her. “As your Sensei, I want to say no. To put the responsibility on Gaara as he suggested. It’s too dangerous to do this alone.”

Sakura nodded. She was aware of this, had prepared herself for this.

“The boys won’t hear of it,” Kakashi pointed out, “they’ll insist on joining you.”

“I don’t plan on telling them,” Sakura confessed. “I’ll leave immediately. When they learn of it, I’ll need you to convince them to stay behind. And persuade Gaara, too. Strategically, it is the safest route for everyone.”

Kakashi sighed. “I don’t foresee this part of your plan going well. Even the Kazekage won’t be pleased that you’ve gone against the plan. He feels responsible.”

“Do what you must. Play the Hokage card if you have to. Isn’t that your favorite?” she smiled teasingly.

Kakashi looked affronted at her statement and Sakura laughed good-naturedly despite the stressful topic.

“Do I have your official permission, then?” she asked.

“As your Hokage, I say go. Bring them to the light or bring them down, whichever of the two options prevents them from threatening your life again. Are you sure that you’re ready?”

“I was ready the very moment they laid their hands on Isao. It’s my turn to protect the ones I love, now.”

Sasuke scowled deeply at Naruto who had just taken his third chakra pill before funneling Kurama’s chakra into his limbs and body once again. “Let’s go again!” he yelled across the sandfield at Sasuke, shaking sweat from his hair like Kiba’s white-furred mutt.

Sasuke sighed, feeling thoroughly exhausted, not having entirely recovered from overexerting himself on chakra pills just days ago. As he watched Naruto take his third dose, Sasuke found himself wishing his blonde companion had been just slightly allergic to the Ashu—just enough where they had an excuse to go back—but of course, Naruto had no reaction; certainly would have saved him from having to walk into the desert and rile himself up with Naruto’s challenges.

There was a part of Sasuke that loved to challenge Naruto, to spar until his limbs were heavy, mottled with bruising, and he could lay on his back that night and feel released from his thoughts—just feel the soreness of his body and the satisfying memories of getting a few ones in on his bijuu friend. But today, Sasuke felt half-in the fight and often found himself tossing distracted glances back toward to the Sand Village.

“Enough Naruto. I think we’ve tested them enough. Let’s head back.”

Powering down, Naruto shouted, “You tired, Sasuke? You’re off your game today.”

And even though Sasuke told himself not to react to Naruto’s goading statement, he still found himself scoffing. “Unlike you loser, I haven’t just been sitting around doing nothing.”

Naruto pointed an annoyed finger in his direction. “Flirting with Sakura doesn’t count!”

Sasuke whipped his head in his friend’s direction and narrowed his deadly purple and red glare at the knucklehead, who was grinning and laughing at Sasuke’s reaction. “You should see your face!”

Sasuke scowled, half-tempted to shoot another fireball in the obnoxious jinchuriki’s direction, but he would need another chakra pill to do so, and Sasuke didn’t want to risk consuming three in a row, despite Sakura’s claim of reduced side-effects. He was completely spent. Anymore and Sasuke might really overdo it and he couldn’t risk being completely bedridden. Not with Sakura’s attackers out there somewhere still organizing a retaliation.

Sasuke struck with his words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I’m NOT tired. Don’t you see the sun setting? We need to head back to meet with the Kazekage.”

Naruto turned to appraise the sun for the first time, and the vibrant red of the sunset cast a crimson glow on their skin and clothes, projecting lengthy shadows of their stooped, heavily-breathing figures on the ruby sand beneath them.

“Alright fine. Just to save your Uchiha pride.” Naruto exclaimed, rolling his purpling jaw and stiff shoulders. “I’ll definitely be stealing some of those pills for future use.”

Sasuke scoffed again and joined his friend as they trudged back through the red-tinted sand at a slower pace, the both of them trying to disguise limping. Naruto even stumbled once in the deep sand and instead of catching himself, he purposefully sprawled out onto his back and Sasuke came to stand over him.

“Don’t make me drag you back,” he hissed threateningly. But Naruto just raised his hand and said, “Five-minute break.”

Sasuke didn’t even argue, grateful for the rest, but he was also simultaneously anxious to be back. Unlike Naruto, he didn’t allow himself to sit. He was afraid he might not be able to get back up.

“You know,” Naruto wheezed between heavy breaths. “I may be oblivious the majority of the time, but not when it comes to you two. Things are different between you, aren’t they?”

Sasuke released a sigh into his hand, not because he was annoyed—although he was very much tempted to disguise it as annoyance—but because the weight of no one knowing and keeping it a secret from Naruto was no longer a burden; he had already guessed it. And so, Sasuke nodded with a confirmatory “hn.”

And then Naruto was grinning, larger than Sasuke had ever seen the knucklehead grin. There was even a tear that slid down the right side of his friend’s sand-dusted cheek as he gazed up into the darkening sky. Naruto covered his eyes to disguise the tears with the crook of his arm as he grinned and whispered, “Finally.”

Sasuke’s first reaction was to insult him for the crying, but he was honestly genuinely affected by this ninja’s emotion, and Sasuke for once in his life wanted to confide in someone who knew Sasuke’s entire history, his past, his everything.

“I’m afraid.” Sasuke confessed. “How do you love someone without spending every waking second worrying about them?”

Naruto sat up at that, leaning on one elbow as his body rotated in Sasuke’s direction. “You’re still concerned that something will happen to her?”

Sasuke just nodded again, giving voice to one of his inner-most thoughts. “Yes. Because of me. Because of who I am.”

“Haven’t you already realized that Sakura is going to be a target because of who she is? Look at the current situation. She’s a medic ninja out there changing the world and one of the most capable shinobi we know. If you’re going to be with anyone, Sasuke, Sakura is the only one who can handle all that come with it.”

Sasuke found himself nodding because he had realized this recently. Everything Naruto just said, Sasuke had thought himself. He could now fully appreciate the fact that Sakura’s life would be threatened regardless of her association with him. But he needed to hear someone say it, the confirmation he was looking for from the universe that set his heart at ease.

“If anything,” Naruto began, standing and dusting the sand from his clothes. “Her association with all of us keeps her protected.”

Sasuke raised a brow in confusion, but Naruto continued. “She may be hunted for her connection to us: the Kazekage’s student, the jinchuriki’s friend, and the last surviving Uchiha’s…” he trailed off, and Sasuke narrowed his eyes dangerously, daring him to say the word. But Naruto chose to finish that sentence with,”partner” and Sasuke found that he and Sakura had even referred to one other as such, so the word felt appropriate.

“But,” Naruto continued, “her particular connections to us protect her, too. Who’s going to risk the wrath of us in order to get to her?”

“This damn anti-peace organization,” Sasuke answered, immediately finding a hole in Naruto’s explanation. He wanted to mention Kido, that madman who had tried to use Sakura to get his sharingan, but Sasuke decided against that one.

Naruto waved away that answer, stating, “Tanigakure was neutral in the war. If this organization truly originates there, they didn’t witness our abilities. There will always be instances that Sakura is targeted, but we will remind them every time who she is and who she belongs to.”

“If she doesn’t remind them herself, first.” Sasuke added.

“Exactly,” Naruto agreed, clapping Sasuke on the shoulder.

Kakashi and Shikamaru were the only two waiting in the Kazekage’s office when Gaara and his two accompanying siblings entered. Kakashi and Shikamaru glanced between one another tensely, aware of the news they would soon share with the Kazekage.

Immediately after Sakura’s conversation and departure, Kakashi had found the lazy ninja strolling the streets carefree with Temari. Wrestling him away with the “official business” excuse, Shikamaru had sighed, “This early? I thought I had until this evening. What a drag.” Once Kakashi had confidentially reported Sakura’s plans for an independent mission, Shikamaru had initially argued with him about her decision, stating it was unnecessary for her to take the risk. That was, until Kakashi had told him everything. The plan. The details. Everything Sakura had confessed to Kakashi as a ninja would to their Kazekage.

“I don’t like it,” Shikamaru sighed with his head in his hand, “but it might just work. We need to meet with her and discuss strategy—”

“She’s already left,” Kakashi interrupted and Shikamaru dropped his hands from his face in shock.

“Already?!”

“Leaving immediately was imperative,” Kakashi explained and by the look on Shikamaru’s face, he had already made the connection that it had to do with the other two members of Team 7. Kakashi continued with: “We can send her your advice by hawk.”

Shikamaru groaned, “Telling Naruto and Sasuke is going to be such a drag.”

That was definitely going to be a mountain that Kakashi was not looking forward to. But before facing that mountain, he had a bridge to cross, and that bridge was none other than telling the Kazekage he had made a decision as the Hokage despite the Kazekage’s careful planning.

As the Kazekage sat cordially behind his desk, ready to scheme and discuss tactics, Kakashi sat across from him, grateful that Gaara was usually a level-headed and understanding leader and was typically easy to work with. But just before Kakashi could blurt out Sakura’s plan, a blue-haired sand shinobi entered the room, pushing a rather drab-looking ninja medic whom Kakashi instantly recognized as the man responsible for betraying Sakura to a group of vigilantes. Kakashi raised a curious eyebrow at Mako’s sudden presence, and Kakashi assumed it had something to do with information garnished from his interrogation.

“The prisoner who keeps asking for you, Lord Kazekage,” the ninja stated respectfully as he pushed Mako to his knees on the floor before Gaara who seemed slightly annoyed with his unexpected appearance.

“Yes, thank you.” The Kazekage gestured for the shinobi to leave.

Mako strained his arms against a pair of sand shackles and Kakashi noticed for the first time that the former Sunagakure medic was trying to speak past a gag of sand as it rained from his mouth. Not only was he struggling to speak, but Mako was glancing around the room into each of their faces and Kakashi witnessed the medic’s eyes widen in alarm, a panicked look Kakashi had become very familiar with from his time as a shinobi: fear.

“Excuse the interruption,” Gaara pardoned and Shikamaru and Kakashi were both a little too eager in shaking their hands in dismissal, both of them more than happy for a delay in delivering their news.

“Make it quick,” Gaara said emotionlessly, snapping his fingers to disintegrate the manacles and gag from his mouth. “What is it you want?”

Mako choked on some of the remnants of grit on his tongue and he wiped furiously from his mouth. Finally, Mako began to breath evenly, blurting, “She—” he choked again. “You have to stop her.”

“Stop who?” The Kazekage interrogated, a furrowed brow of confusion passing across Gaara’s usual emotionless expressions.

Kakashi’s stomach dropped when Mako cried out, “Sakura! She left the prison this morning, asking for information. I got the impression that she was going to go looking for the enemy on her own! You can’t let her—”

Gaara silenced the noisy vomit of words spilling out of Mako’s mouth with a raised hand. He turned to Kakashi and raised an eyebrow. “Where is Sakura?” the sand-wielder questioned. “Why exactly is she not here right now?”

Kakashi rubbed his neck half-humoredly. “Well, about that,” he began and he heard Shikamaru sigh at his right. And so Kakashi found himself explaining the current situation, at which Gaara’s eye grew wide in surprise. Just as Sakura had explained to him, and Kakashi had relayed to Shikamaru, the Hokage now recounted a censored version of Sakura’s goals (he wasn’t naïve enough to reveal anything essential in Mako’s presence).

Even Temari and Kankuro exchanged worried glances between one another as Kakashi reported, and Gaara placed his fisted hand on his mouth to think.

“I had thought we were on the same page, her and I.” Gaara voiced. “If she goes into Tanigakure, discretion is a must. Are you sure she can handle this without our help?”

Kakashi nodded. “If anyone can do this, she can.” Kakashi was relieved to see him nod curtly before whispering an instruction silently to Kankuro, who dashed quickly from the room, sending a small hateful glare in Mako’s direction as he exited.

Mako took turns exasperatedly gaping between all of them. “You are all too confident.” Mako seethed. “I should have just kept my mouth shut. She hasn’t been on the battlefield since the war. She’s too inexperienced for the numbers, especially going alone.”

“Why are you working so hard to prevent her from going? Are you disappointed that her plan might not work?” Shikamaru drawled, the annoyed tone very much like his character. “She handled your team well enough.”

Mako laughed derisively. “Of course, her plan won’t work! She said she just wants to talk to them! You’re sending their target, a martyr in the name of mental health, into a nest designed for her death!”

“Then tell us what you know.” Gaara’s rasping voice sounded and Kakashi witnessed Mako tense at the legendary jinchuriki’s question. “You’ve chosen a second life here, correct? In exchange for your information, I’ll offer you protection as long as you reside here.”

Mako’s eyes widened at the offer and then he sighed; Kakashi saw the internal struggle still within his eyes as if the young man truly was trying to recall everything he could remember. “I’ll tell you what I told her,” the prisoner exhaled as he rubbed his sore blistered wrists. “I don’t know much. I didn’t get that far in, but I will tell you everything I do know.”

“Better make that quick,” Kakashi announced, walking to one of the windows across the room. The descending sunlight illuminated the sand ground in orange, striped by the shadows of all the buildings within the village, and two smaller shadows shuffled their way slowly towards the Kazekage’s tower.

“You’re late,” Shikamaru drawled when Sasuke practically hauled Naruto’s limp body through the door of the Kazekage’s office. Stupid idiot had walked the entire way back, but the stairs, the stairs, had been too much for him. Sasuke practically dropped him on his back to the floor.

“Coming from you, Shikamaru?” Naruto laughed, pointing an accusing finger and upside-down jeer at the lazy Hokage’s assistant. “You and Kakashi Sensei are always late to everything.”

“It’s Lord Hokage, Naruto…” Kakashi corrected, covering his eyes with his hand, and Sasuke thought he looked like a parent who was embarrassed of his two humiliating children.

“You can blame Naruto,” Sasuke stated bluntly as he side-stepped Naruto, already feigning disinterest in the present company. That was until his narrowed eyes met an unlikely visitor that Sasuke would have rather never seen again. Mako sat with his hands bound and mouth gagged with what appeared to be whirring sand. His silent figure observed Sasuke, blatantly staring at him in forced silence, and Sasuke could have kicked in his teeth. Sasuke didn’t question Mako’s presence too much; Gaara probably had him brought from the cells to testify for insider information.

Moving along with a threatening glare in Mako’s direction, the Uchiha positioned himself casually against the wall the farthest away from everyone and instantly became aware that Sakura had not made it to the Kazekage’s office, yet. Sasuke mentally scolded his pink-haired teammate for her overachieving work ethic, and that kernel of uneasiness from earlier that came from Sakura’s absence was back again. Maybe he should go and retrieve her.

“Were the chakra pills effective?” Kakashi suddenly inquired, and Naruto enthusiastically answered as he sat upright once more, crossing his legs and arms simultaneously; the very same squat he often took as a genin.

“Yes! I took four in a row!” he praised. “Wish she could improve that terrible taste though,” he mumbled lowly to himself, taking a dramatic swipe at his tongue with the pad of his right thumb and then inspecting it for a residue. Sasuke wanted to roll his eyes.

As Naruto rambled on about the effects that he personally experienced from the new food pills, explaining that the results and consequences were as expected, but less serious, and how it took much longer to get there, Shikamaru laughed to himself and shook his head in disbelief. This laugh pricked Sasuke’s ears and his attention switched to Kakashi, and Sasuke witnessed the Hokage and Kazekage exchange a quiet look, the type of glance that was charged with a silent conversation. Sasuke then turned to find Mako’s heavy gaze on him, staring directly into his eyes as if he no longer feared them. The Uchiha narrowed his eyes at the man, trying his best to not let the behavior provoke him in this uncomfortable atmosphere. God, Sasuke was tired of this meeting already.

“Where is Sakura, by the way?” Naruto glanced around, the first to address her absence since they had arrived. It may have been the only time today Sasuke wasn’t annoyed at the blonde idiot.

Naruto’s question was interrupted and ignored when the puppet-wielding ninja appeared through the entrance, signaled Gaara with a nod, and the Kazekage announced, “All right then, let’s get started.”

Sasuke had rarely felt so skeptical in his life as he did now when the sand-wielder engulfed the room with sand, creating a soundproof barrier that Sasuke had witnessed him do several times. It hardened within seconds, encasing them all in one un-impenetrable room. Sasuke glanced at Naruto as his question was skipped over, and Sasuke noticed that the knucklehead, too, had a confused frown on his face. And Sasuke suddenly had a gut-wrenching feeling, because it was obvious that if Gaara was sealing the room already, it was because everyone who was expected to be there, already was. Which meant that Sakura wasn’t coming.

And Sasuke’s gaze suddenly locked on the sand-muffled Mako, whose eyes still bore into the Uchiha’s as if he had been trying to communicate with him all along—eyes that had been so cautious to meet the Sharingan and Rinnegan before, but now volunteered themselves for Sasuke’s inspection. And as it finally clicked in Sasuke’s brain, he called on his reduced supply of chakra and his eyes instantly morphed into the deadly purple and red.

Mako slumped forward as Sasuke plowed into the ninja’s memories, frantically searching for Sakura’s face, reversing time so quickly that he struck through Mako’s memories like electricity, faster than the streaks of lightning of his chidori. Finally, his charged consciousness of his lightning style chakra illuminated the memories containing her. Finally, Sasuke witnessed her sitting before Mako’s cell, eye-to-eye on the other side of the bars crafted from sand. Sasuke paused and played out her questions to Mako:

Where is the heart of your organization?

Are they based in Tanigakure?

How many members?

When Sasuke stumbled through the rest of their conversation, hearing Mako ask Sakura to take him with her to help her with her plan, and then experiencing Mako’s panic at realizing that Sakura planned to go alone, Sasuke felt the same fear again. That same fear he had felt many times in the past, and now found himself feeling again. Everything suddenly made dreadful sense: Gaara surrounding the room with sand—an action that Sasuke had misunderstood to be sound-proofing, the exchanged glances, and even Sakura asking he and Naruto to test the food pills so they would both be too physically drained to pursue her. Damn it. Sasuke felt like a fool; he felt betrayed, afraid, and so cross with everyone for their part in Salura’s self-sacrificing mission.

Too late, a veil of sand came before Mako’s eyes, the sand creating an impassable window to stop Sasuke’s genjutsu. But Sasuke had already learned what he needed to know and he withdrew from Mako’s head like a snake that had bitten him. Mako gasped from the shock of it and the entire room turned to watch the medic slump forward onto the ground, not having witnessed the silent exchange, but realizing something had just happened.

Gaara’s efforts to stop the genjutstu said a lot to Sasuke about how the Kazekage wanted to handle this confrontation: slowly, easily, and as emotionless as possible. But as Sasuke met the Kazekage’s eyes and Sasuke didn’t retract his emotional prowess, everyone in the room suddenly realized that Sasuke had discovered their closely guarded secret, and the Uchiha didn’t plan on calmly playing along with their plans.

“Naruto,” Sasuke drawled, his voice as low and heavy as the rumble that resounded when the ground shook on a war-torn battlefield. His next words had sharpened to accusatory ice. “Sakura’s not coming. She left Sunagakure on her own.”

Naruto shot up from the ground as if he hadn’t just crawled his way up the steps moments ago. “What?” he questioned the others, his gaze coming to rest on Kakashi who was putting a hand up already in an attempt to calm the Uzumaki.

“Why don’t you both sit down, so I can explain the situation to you—” their Sensei began, but his words only registered in Naruto’s head as a confirmation of Sasuke’s sudden declaration.

“WHAT?!” Naruto screeched, pointing a finger at all of them. “You let her go by herself? To do what? Fight? ALONE!?”

Sasuke’s immediate desire was to jump through space and time, directly through the portal of his choosing, bypassing everything altogether: the explanations, the defensive behavior, the justification of Sakura’s choices. But he was drained, just as Sakura had planned, damn her, and that only left Sasuke able to move to the door, instead. When he found the sand thickening around it, he turned and flashed his red and purple glare at Gaara.

“Even your sand will burn in the fires of Amaterasu,” Sasuke threatened dangerously. “You can’t hold me here.”

In the next moment, Kakashi had his hand on Sasuke’s shoulder and the Uchiha turned his glare back on him. “This is her plan, Sasuke. A covert operation with one person is discreet. She can handle this. Hear us out.”

Sasuke sucked in a sharp breath at the words that just came out of Kakashi’s mouth, the very words Sasuke had used to try and persuade Sakura to let him handle the situation himself. Sakura had listened, told Sasuke it was irrational, but had really gone and decided to take his idea and do it herself. His hand found his painful eyes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. And they had agreed. Kakashi had agreed. Sasuke was so furious at himself for giving her the idea, but not as enraged at the Hokage for sending her.

“You think she can kill them?” he suddenly hissed in Kakashi’s face. “I watched her spare the life of that bastard who betrayed her,” Sasuke spat in Mako’s unconscious direction. “I’ve watched her spare the life of the monster who almost took the use of her arm away. There are countless others.”

“She killed one of them,” Shikamaru defended, “because it became necessary.” And Sasuke hated the strategist ninja once again, for his entitlement to a say. He didn’t know her. None of them knew Sakura the way that her own teammates did, including Sasuke, himself.

“She only killed the one who hurt that kid,” Sasuke retorted, cursing his own damn depleted state of chakra that was forcing him to sit and reason with these idiots. “None of the ones who touched her suffered any sort of consequence.”

“How many times?” Kakashi asked lowly, but loud enough for them all to hear. “How many times must she prove herself to you, Sasuke?”

Sasuke gritted his teeth in frustration, his blood pulsing in his head from the chakra-depletion induced headache forming there. The truth was, that this wasn’t an issue to him anymore. He believed in her abilities. He had witnessed them, himself. And as he had explained to Sakura as he had wrapped his arms around her in the moonlight of last night, his faith in her didn’t change the fact that Sasuke would worry. That Sasuke would go after her. Every. Single. Time. Why? Because he loved Sakura, and a man in love with someone didn’t need an excuse to make sure she never faced anything alone, not as Sasuke had for years. Sakura’s enemies were his enemies. Her battles, his battles. All wars, theirs.

“Tell us where she’s gone, Kakashi!” Naruto interrupted, derailing both Sasuke’s thoughts and their sensei’s attempt to convince him completely. “Sakura is our teammate. I don’t care what her plan is! We fight as a team!”

Sasuke saw it in their faces, the wavering. Naruto always had that effect on people when he spoke, altering their thinking and changing their minds, easily.

Kakashi remained on course, however. “You can’t follow her, Naruto. Everyone in the shinobi world knows who you are. They would recognize you instantly. Remember what I said earlier? Leaf shinobi can’t enter into Tanigakure without consequence. It’s neutral. You’ll be starting something—”

“And the world doesn’t know Sakura?!” Naruto shouted in disbelief. “She’s just as recognizable as any of us! Is just as important to the Leaf!”

“Sakura has many different strengths she can draw from,” Kakashi continued. “She doesn’t have to rely on a ninjutsu that could give her away. Not like your Rasengan, beast modes, sage art, and more. She has another plan.”

Naruto began to protest again, but Sasuke interjected. “Fine, Naruto can stay here.”

“WHAT?!” his friend screeched, rounding on him instantly, but Sasuke ignored him.

“The idea was mine originally,” Sasuke explained to Kakashi. “Sakura just stole it. I will go and I will be as discreet as I have for the last couple of years on Konoha’s behalf.”

Kakashi sighed. “Sasuke, you’re involvement is not a good idea. You have your own mission.”

And as Kakashi began to deny him once more, Sasuke felt a sense of dread and panic as more time was slipping away from him. Each minute that passed, took Sakura further away from them and toward those who wanted to kill her.

Desperation wasn’t like Sasuke and he had never resorted to begging before, always being able to rely on his strength and jutsu to carry him through life, taking what he wanted, doing as he pleased, and needing permission from few. But he was growing more and more irate and more and more frantic, and so he risked being vulnerable in front of all these ninja who had often judged him.

“If I have to watch someone who I love die, sacrificing themselves for the sake of the Leaf Village, again, the person who I am now won’t survive it. What’s left of the shinobi world will either fall to the Otsusuki race in my absence, or it will fall to the person I will become.”

He watched the fear flash across each of their faces as Sasuke’s words registered throughout the room. Sasuke had been too young to help his brother bear the weight of such terrible orders from his village, but Sasuke wouldn’t sit by and do nothing when Sakura was given such a mission.

“Is that a threat, Uchiha?” Gaara grumbled and Sasuke felt the very ground, the entire sand-constructed village, shift in response to the Kazekage’s wrath. Sasuke felt no fear. He didn’t fear such things anymore.

“Sasuke,” Naruto whispered as his friend placed a supportive palm on his shoulder, but Sasuke shrugged it off and stepped up to Kakashi, so close that Sasuke could see the red and purple of his own gaze in Kakashi’s irises.

“That will be its fate if you keep me here and she dies, Kakashi. Don’t make the wrong choice.”

He saw it in Kakashi’s face. The realization that Sasuke was more dangerous to Konoha than any repercussions from Tanigakure, or any unnamed organization. Sasuke was also essential because he was the only one who could use the Rinnegan to get an edge on the Otsusuki race. He watched the risks shift in the Hokage’s mind as he weighed this new danger to the Leaf. And so Kakashi didn’t stop him. The sand rained down around him. They let him go.

Sasuke fisted the pink hair that had been cut and placed upon a note on the foot of his bed. He had almost missed it in the darkness, but the moon as always, caught Sakura’s hair in a way that nothing else could. The sight of her slashed hair, a pre-battle ritual of Sakura’s, instantly caught his eye and it panicked the Uchiha even more; he wished he would have returned to their shared room earlier in the day, because Sasuke would have realized what exactly Sakura had intended to do, and he could just have avoided the Kage meeting all together and gone straight after her.

He had returned now to make sure Sakura wasn’t there waiting for him. Sasuke knew better, but he had still hoped. All their conversations about partnership, communication and goodbyes, and all their small promises to one another these past couple of months had given him that hope. But it was all nothing, now. Empty words because none of it prevented her from leaving him. Sasuke Uchiha had been left behind. And for the first time, he realized just how lonely and horrendously painful it was to be left behind.

In the darkness, the hair fell from his hands onto the bed like Sasuke’s slashed headband had once descended from his forehead. He snatched the note from the bed and separated the two pages with the pad of his thumb. Sasuke activated his Sharingan in the dark and forced himself to read it slowly and carefully, instead of skipping over lines in his urgency.

Sasuke, it read.

Sasuke,

I am sorry. If you have found this letter, know that I write it because we promised one another a goodbye. This is my goodbye, for now. I thought a lot about your suggestion on how to handle this situation, and I decided to do this on my own, since I was going to be involved regardless. I have thought it through, put extensive research into how I will achieve my goal, and decided a solo mission was the best option after all. Forgive me for being a distraction to you and I hope that the time apart will give us ‘clear heads’ as you suggested last night. Focus on your mission and I will focus on mine. Keep Naruto from following. He can be impulsive, and I need to do this alone. If you don’t find this until later, and I do not return, know that I love you. You have always been worthy of that love, even the darkest version of you. Save the shinobi world and remember who you are.

She did not sign it. As soon as his eyes scanned the last line of pen scrawl, Sasuke was half-tempted to crumble it in his hand. But his eyes found the most important words on the page: I love you…you have always been worthy of that love…remember who you are. And Sasuke realized he needed this letter as much as he needed chakra or oxygen. Because if she died, Sasuke would have to stare at it every day for the rest of his lonely existence and let it be the tether that kept him from falling apart.

#sasuke and sakura #sasusaku #approaching sun #approachingsun #sasukeshinden #Sasuke Uchiha #sasuke retsuden #Sakura Haruno #sakura uchiha #sakura hiden #ssfanfiction #sasusakufanfiction #Naruto Shippuden #naruto fanfiction #naruto

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ywpd-translations · 8 months

Text

Ride 748: The sixth and seventh place

Pag 1

1: Keep it up, Rokudai!!

It's past 9pm!!

2: Three hours left....!!

Until we complete the 1000km... there are still

3: 60km!!

Yeah!!

Pag 2

1: 20km in an hour... if we can run 4 laps per hour, we can do it!!

We can reach 1000km!!

Pag 3

1: Yeah!!

4: We can do it!!

Yeah!!

5: Gooo!! Do your best!!

55km left!! Go!!

Will their bottles be enough....

6: Those two can do it

Will they really complete the 1000km? Kinaka and Rokudai

Even though they're first years!!

Pag 4

1: There was also a moment where he seemed to be having a tough time, but Kinaka encouraged him

They looked so fired up now, right!?

They got back up!!

The look in their eyes was terrific!!

2: Sugimoto ran with determination

3: But... this fight is...

He... Sugimoto knows all that well

He's fighting understanding that

4: Kuaaaa

5: Garuaaa

Pag 5

1: It was probably the same for Danchiku

2: Danchiku watched Sohoku running for two years

And Sugimoto for three years....!!

4: So they chose that race!!

Pag 6

1: They chose to fight!!

3: Are you an idiot... Sugimoto

4: If you ... wanted to run with me at our third and last Inter High, you could have stuck behind me, easily, and take the goal that way

5: and become... a member... the “sixth man”

Pag 7

1: You chose a harsh way

2: You were thinking about the team....

4: You were thinking about what you needed to do....

5: That's just like you....

6: You know, Imaizumi, I think, I think it's necessary

7: For our third Inter High members this year, we definitely....!!

Pag 8

2: It's 10pm!!

40km left!!

Pag 9

2: Yeah!!

4: We can do it, Rokudai!!

Yeah!

Let's go, Rokudai!!

Yeah!

5: I confirmed it earlier when we passed through the goal – it's good news, so be glad!!

Yeah!

6: Good news!? Teh!?

7: We have already surpassed the third year Sugimoto-san!!

Pag 10

1: Huh!?

Is he resting? Or is he preserving his strength? We don't know, but anyway it looks like right now Sugimoto-san isn't on the course!!

2: For now, we....

3: Are sixth and seventh place

The “sixth place”....

4: Will become one of the Inter High members!!

Pag 11

1: Mem....

Really!?

2: Wait, teh, I'm getting dizzy

That... wouldn't that be amazing, teh!?

3: It's an hypothesis but, even if Sugimoto-san wants to chase us from here on, there's a “surpassing ban board”, so if we keep running then he can't catch up to us!!

And we'll secure the “sixth place”!!

4: You're so smart, Kinaka-kun!!

5: Right?!

6: Waaaa

A member... it's almost within reach, teh.... that's incredible, teh...!!

Pag 12

1: I'm so glad, teh, Kinaka-kun!!

Yeah!!

No, it's too soon to cry!!

2: I'm so glad we kept on running

There are still 40km left!! Don't lose your pace!!

3: Tears are for after the finish line!!

4: Ahh, it's here, teh... a blan comment, it's been a while

Oi!! I cheer you up and yet you hit me!!

5: But now it touches my heart!!

It's thanks to your encouragement, Kinaka-kun, that I arrived here, teh!!

6: Uhm!!

Pag 13

1: Let's aim for the Inter High!!

Yeah!!

3: Go

4: Go, Rokudai

Pag 14

1: It's only 40km left.... you can do it on your own, Rokudai

2: It hurts-!!

3: I reached my limit for the pain

All the “let's go”, “let's do it” and the encouragement were to deceive you

4: I had to

I've been having leg cramps for a while

5: The “Inter High”

6: Even though it's right before my eyes

It's so frustrating

Pag 15

2: Wha- Rokudai

You moved back before I noticed...

3: If you're tired and need to slow down, tell me it, teh

I'll push you and help you!!

4: Don't underestimate the “helping ability” of a former manager, teh!!

Pag 16

1: Rokudai!!

5: Rokudaiii!!

6: You mean to say “let's still go”!?

7: Is it connecting possibilities? Rokudai's hand!!

Pag 17

1: Don't cry, Kinaka Tsugunao, crying is for after the finish line!!

2: Ah!!

3: Alright, the climb is over, I'll pull you on the downhill!!

4: Yeah, teh!!

Pag 18

1: Waa-teh!? Suddenly I can't keep my balance!!

2: Rokudai!?

3: A flat tire!!

4: Huh, a flat tire!?

Your tires are screaming for the 1000km

Ahh

Dammit!! Mechanical troubles in a time like this!!

5: The tools to repair a flat tire are only at the goal!!

But with a flat tire, on the downhill....!!

We have no choice but to push it slowly downhill!!

Pag 19

1: Hurry!!

2: Ugh-

3: If we go so slow, Sugimoto-san might come!!

4: Sugimoto-san is chasing us, teh!!

Pag 20

1: Sugimoto won't come

2: I've come to bring you a message from Sugimoto

#yowamushi pedal #yowapeda #yowamushi pedal translations #yowapeda manga #yowamushi pedal manga #yowamushi pedal spoilers #ride 748 #my babieeeeees theyre so sweet i love them so much ;A;#we all know that rokudai will be the sixth man in the end #as much as i would have wanted both him and kinaka on the team :')#but still this whole chapter was so so sweet ;A; my adorable lovely sweet first years besties #kinaka encouraging roku-chan the whole time to fire him up bc he knows he himself can't do it ;A;#and roku being like 'nope not on my watch! we can do it together!'#THEYRE BUDDIES! THEYRE BESTIES! THEY'RE EACH OTHER'S PRECIOUS AND RELIABLE BEST FRIEND!!#yowapeda has some of the best friendships in all the sport mangas ive read #im gonna cry for how much i love these kids :')#now imaizumi has arrived to help roku with the flat tires im assuming #since it looks like he's carrying something #kinda like junta with onoda during first years #also ima still thinking about sugimoto ;-;#sugimoto is literally the second person after onoda that imaizumi has openly shown affection to ;A;#imma cry ;A;#also naruko who keeps watching imaizumi because he knows :eyes emoji:#sorry nothing can distract my imanaru heart lmao

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thepaintedlady00 · 11 months

Text

Nightshade

Chapter 17 | Chapter 19

Chapter 18: Double Double Toil And Trouble

TW: as per usual language, drinking, smoking, mention of drugs, some depictions of abuse this chapter, some gangish stuff, violence, flashbacks, a hint of suicidal tendencies, some blood, use of a slur (the F slur), Eddie's a flirty asshole but we love him, some deep conversations with Daddy Oz & a tender moment or two, costumes, fake horror (it's Halloween y'all), supportive friends that also make fun of each other, some smutty themes 👀 Enjoy the wild ride that is this chapter y'all! I edited it really quick so please ignore any mistakes I missed! AO3 is also not working for me. I know they've been having issues all day and I'm not sure if they've fixed it or not yet, but I'll be keeping my eyes peeled and will get this chapter up there as soon as possible.

Edit: It is now up on AO3!

"-Fire burn and cauldron bubble!" Quinn wiggled her fingers in my face, dramatically cackling.

I brushed her hands away, shaking my head at her dramatics as I reminded her, "Halloween is still like four days away."

"So?" She questioned. "I'm not allowed to be in the spooky spirit?"

"You're allowed to be in whatever spirit you wanna be as long as you keep that spirit outta my face," I responded.

She put her hands up at her sides, eyes widening and brow arching. "Well damn! Somebody's grumpy today!"

I shook my head. "I'm not grumpy."

"Spill it," she urged, leaning on the hostess stand.

Normally I'd just wait her out. An easy enough thing to do, considering Quinn's impatience. Sadly, that wasn't an option when she stood inside my workplace just an hour before we were supposed to open back up for the night. So, with a careful look over my shoulder at the bar where Nicky polished glasses, and Jake began pre-slicing the garnishes, I sighed. "I'm playing nice with Simone, and she's been… Taxing today."

With a glance at the second floor, where the blonde was setting tables Quinn smirked. "Want me to hit her?"

"No!" I growled. "What part of playing nice would make you think hitting her is a good idea?"

"I never said it was a good idea," Quinn defended. "It'd be fun, though."

"It would," I whined, planting my face on the hostess stand. "It really would."

My friend gave me a pat on the back, carefully rubbing my shoulders. "What'd she do this time?"

I shrugged. "She's just… Everywhere. Helping me with my jewelry in the locker room, insisting on doing my hair, reminding me to double-check the reservations, to smile, and just everything."

"Okay, that's annoying," she agreed. "Why the fuck is she doing all that now?"

"I opened the door," I replied bitterly. It was a term Quinn, and I had used often, mostly referencing relationships with people we knew were going to be toxic as hell. Opening the door was essentially allowing someone with a reputation for turning your offered step into a mile a chance to do so again.

Quinn was notorious for chasing off men Prue had unintentionally opened the door for, while she herself opened the door to very few. Those she did open it to were usually the worst sort of people. People like Simone.

She clicked her tongue and shook her head at me. "It's been a hot minute since you opened the door. I think I'm gonna gloat."

I deserved that. The last time Quinn let an ex get away with too much, I was pretty smug about it. "Gloat away."

Her eyes narrowed. "It's no fun if you're fine with it. The least you could do is make some fuss."

"Holy shit, would you ju-"

"Lena," Simone interrupted with a polite smile. "So sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to remind you that it's the Peterson's anniversary tonight, so we'll want to show them an extra warm welcome."

Grinding my teeth through the smile, I nodded. "Thank you for reminding me. I'll make a note of it." Again. I thought, thinking about the four other times she'd reminded me.

"Excellent," Simone said, carefully lifting a hand to fix my hair before she set off toward the kitchen. Jake smiled at her as she passed, and that smile slowly extended to me.

"Jesus, look at that dumb smile," Quinn said, peering over my shoulder at Jake. "You're so fucked."

“Royally fucked.”

“He looks like he’s gonna start asking you to hang out with her for like… fun.”

I jabbed my finger in her face. “Don’t even say that!”

She rolled her eyes and slapped my hand away. “Relax, I’m sure he’ll take your polite refusal very well. It’s her I’m worried about. She’s treating you like a doll. It’s creepy.”

Olive strolled out of the kitchen as if on cue, smiling at Simone’s glare. “Yeah, well, considering the recent loss of her other plaything, I’d say it’s to be expected. After everything I said to her, I just didn't think I'd be her next target."

“It’s still working here?” Quinn asked in a seething tone as Olive made her way toward us.

“Hello,” she said, smug and self-important and very… Simone like. She looked Quinn up and down, taking in the sight of her witch attire. “Making some fun plans for Halloween?”

Quinn’s tongue was quicker and sharper than mine as she sized up the faux red-haired woman. “We already know what our plans are for Halloween.”

Olive smiled, foolishly meeting Quinn’s challenge. “Let me guess, a party at that run-down, old bar?”

"Yep.”

“Sounds interesting may-”

“You even think about showing up, and I'll tear that ugly ass red off your head faster than you can say desperate."

Olive took a moment to consider her opponent, likely thinking Quinn would be less of a threat because of her "simple" dancing background. That, of course, left out the years of fighting she'd done to survive in this city with no connections. Quinn took a step forward, that crazy gleam in her eyes and a smug smile tugging up the corners of her lips. Try it. She dared without words, but Olive heard it. She heard the crazed and wild challenge in Quinn, and with an abrupt clearing of her throat, she backed down. “I wouldn’t set foot in that bar again even if someone paid me. Besides, I have other plans."

Quinn nodded, a winning smile spreading on her lips, bearing her teeth to Olive. "I'm sure you do."

Quinn's body relaxed the second she was gone, and she nudged my shoulder. “Don’t forget we’ve got the hat drawing tonight.”

“Right,” I sighed. “What are the choices again?”

“Fuck if I know. That’s Prue’s department, remember?”

“Shit. That means we’re in for some very elaborate choices.”

She rolled her eyes. “Relax, I’m sure it’ll be fine!”

I gave her a look. “Says the woman that had to come up with a whole ass Sailor Moon costume in like three days.”

She nodded, chuckling at the memory. “Riiiigghhtt. We really should do costume picking earlier, shouldn’t we?”

“Probably.”

Her eyes drifted to Jake, and that sly smile returned. “If you could get your pretty bartender to dress up as something, what would it be?”

I glanced at him, focusing on that dark hair, the quickness of his hands as he sliced the lime in front of him, those deep waves of focused blue eyes… He glanced up, catching my gaze for a split second as I turned away. “Jake’s not going to dress up. He’s far too grown up for that sort of thing.”

“Would you just humor me for once?” Quinn complained. “What would you die to see him dress up as?”

“You know this answer!” I insisted, giving her that look.

She knew instantly what I meant, rolling her eyes. “Egon from Ghostbusters. I should have known.”

I shook my head, blushing slightly at the mention of my old childhood crush. “Shut up! At least my answer is simple, unlike your insane fantasy about the Scooby Doo gang."

Quinn smirked, biting her lip at the lewd thought my words brought back to her mind. She shrugged. "I'm bisexual. Sue me."

She moved past me, heading toward the bar. "Where are you going?"

"I've gotta give my girl a goodbye kiss," she replied with a dumb happy smile.

"Disgusting," I teased, watching her approach Ari, who beamed at the sight of her.

Sasha sashayed out from the main dining room, making a face at the display in front of him. "Ugh, young love. Absolutely horrifying, isn't it?"

My eyes drifted to Jake as he sent me a quick wink. "Yeah, it's the fucking worst."

Jake was in unusually high spirits. It was an odd feeling, the lack of weight on his chest, the ability to breathe freely for the first time in a long time. It was so odd that he sometimes caught himself holding his breath, waiting for an ache… For something to force that pressure back onto him. But then he just had to look at the beam of red hair standing at the hostess stand, and air filled his lungs again.

Lena was like a beacon, bathed in the low afternoon sunlight. She stood at the hostess stand, her shoulders holding a visible tension as she quietly worked. The stiffness Lena held whenever Simone would speak to her didn't go unnoticed. In fact, it was something that made him tense as well. Jake would always hold his breath for a few seconds, watching closely for signs either woman was bearing their breaking point with the other.

Simone was calm and polite, as she always was, and while Lena mirrored that, he could tell it was something that didn't feel as natural to her. Still, he appreciated the gesture more than she would ever know. It wasn't until Quinn strolled through the front door, dressed in a cheap witch costume, that he saw that tension lift even just a little. He couldn't hear their conversation, but it was Quinn, so he could only assume it was something mildly inappropriate.

As he worked, he caught her multiple glances, smirking at each obvious one. Jake liked her glances - liked the way his body felt beneath the crystal-like gaze of her stare. It made him feel important and desired and perhaps even a bit naked. Lena was the only person, aside from Simone, that could read him as though he were an open book. She saw every emotion and could practically read his mind all with her eyes. An addictive feeling, one he had no quarrel in chasing after.

Quinn happily made her way past the redhead, moving straight for Ari with purpose in her heeled steps. He wasn't at all surprised when she pulled the curly-haired woman into a sweet and lustful kiss. For a quick moment, Jake imagined what it would be like to kiss Lena like that. Out in the open, unafraid and uncaring of who saw them…

This thought was quickly washed away by the sound of Quinn's hand clapping on top of the bar. "You look awfully chipper today."

"I was having a very good time til you showed up," He teased.

She rolled her eyes. "Please, if anything, I've improved your day just by stopping by."

"Whatever you say."

"So, got any plans for Halloween?" She wiggles her eyebrows. "Got a costume in mind?"

Jake shook his head, continuing his work. "I don't do costumes."

Quinn acted surprised, but he could tell she wasn't. "Why not? They're so fun!"

"I'm not thirteen anymore," Jake replied with a flippant scoff.

Quinn's face hardened slightly, an offended and protective look filling her eyes with fire. "You should be more grateful. Some people don't get a chance to be thirteen." His head tilted slightly, noting her words but more so the tiny look over her shoulder at Lena. Interesting. "Anyway. I have a question for you."

"Which is?"

"What costume do you think our darling redhead would look good in this year?"

His eyes slid to Lena, taking in her form as she squabbled with Sasha. From where he stood, she looked like an angel, bathed in light, bright and glowing. "You ever see that Romeo and Juliet movie?"

Quinn's face scrunched up slightly as she chuckled. "The one with Leonardo Dicaprio?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, suddenly feeling silly. "She'd look good as Juliet. You know, from that scene where they first meet or whatever."

"The angel," she replied, looking at her friend. "A wonderful suggestion. See? I knew you'd be helpful."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Have a good day, witch."

She called, giving Ari one last kiss and a soft look. "See you tonight?"

Ari smiled wider and nodded. "Of course."

"Goodbye, servants!" Quinn hollered to the rabble, kissing Lena's cheek as she left.

Even after the door had closed, Ari was still smiling, a bright look in her eyes he hadn't seen even when she was high out of her mind. A longing, but a fulfilled-looking one. He would never admit it, but part of him felt jealous, a feeling he buried as he turned to catch another of Lena's glances.

I swiftly carried the plates back into the kitchen, gingerly setting them down on the table for Scott to glare at. “Table four says the chicken is dry.”

“God fucking…” He huffed, turning and tossing the food in the garbage. “Refire, two chicken!”

My eyes wandered to the station near the back, where a bright-colored bandana was still absent. “Is Isaac not here?”

Scott just shook his head, hurriedly working on the steady stream of dishes. “Said he was sick or something. I dunno. It’s been a few days, though. Have you not heard from him?”

“I called, but it just went straight to voicemail. He texted me an hour later with the same response.”

“Well, at least he’s got the sense to keep whatever he’s got out of my kitchen.”

I stared at the cook standing in my friends' normal place, focusing on the heavy pit that filled my gut. Isaac loved this job. There was nothing that could keep him away, not even a little case of the sniffles. If he was gone, for a whole week, no less, then there was something big going on. Whether that was some sickness, like he said, or something worse, I didn’t know. But, then and there, as I turned on my heel, I decided that after service, I was going to find out.

The night was long, filled with too many people that overcrowded the bar and the entryway. I triple-checked the reservation book, searching the pages for all the names of the guests that showed up claiming to have made a reservation. It was hell trying to appease them and investigate the sudden and unexplainable amount of individuals claiming to have been booked.

While I saw to the guests' comfort, Howard did some investigating. He asked who each guest spoke to when making their reservation but got multiple names of the morning hostess as well as a few prestigious servers that sometimes handled reservation calls. There was a string of phone calls made after that, asking them why they wouldn't check the books before making such reservations, but all of them claimed to have done so and found the time slots empty. There was something deeper going on, but I chose to let Howard handle it so I could focus on Isaac.

Once things started moving, they didn't stop. Everything flew by in a rush of bodies and fake pleasantries, but I hardly noticed any of it. I'd slipped to the back to text Isaac one last time. I have a hot meal from Nana to help you feel better. Can I stop by after my shift?

I expected to be kept waiting again, as all of us that had texted or called him had, but Isaac's reply was instant. That's nice, but I'm not really feeling very hungry. Best to stay away so you don't get what I've got.

That was the final straw. Isaac had been part of our group for years. He'd dated my brother, and never once in all that time did he turn away a meal from Nana or the chance at having company to help him feel better. Something was wrong. I didn't reply, opting to just show up anyway and deal with whatever he was going through when I got there.

I rushed through the last of service and hurried up to the locker room, stripping out of my lavender gown before anyone else even got upstairs. I rushed the dry cleaning bag to Howard's office along with the earrings and necklace he'd lent me. While everyone else passed to get to the locker room, I was already making my way to the front door.

Nicky noted my quick pace with a chuckle and a glass. “Slow down, Red. You move any faster, and we’ll have to replace the carpet.”

“Can’t tonight, Nick,” I replied, drawing Jake’s attention. “I got something I gotta handle.”

Jake turned, looking me up and down with tight-knit brows. “What’s goin' on?”

I shrugged. “Dunno yet. I’m gonna go check up on Isaac. It’s been like a week since anyone's seen him.”

“He lives out in Queen’s, doesn’t he?” Jake asked.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll come with.”

I smirked. “Yeah?”

He nodded, tossing me his jacket. “Yeah. Wait for me.”

While Jake changed, I hopped behind the bar to help Nicky clean everything up. I asked him about how things were at home and listened while the older man gushed about his daughters. He reminded me of my dad in moments like this, ones where the love he had for his family was practically pouring out of his eyes. While it was painful to linger on the memories of my dad and the hole now left in my heart his death left me with, I felt a sense of relief that Nicky’s children likely wouldn't know the horrors too many of us had.

Jake strolled out from the kitchen, pulling his shirt over his head with one hand while he held his jacket in the other. From the bar, I could hear Sasha’s taunting. “You really don’t have to come.”

“I know.”

“There any particular reason why you’re so adamant about joining me?” I asked as we walked out the front door.

“Queen’s is a sketchy neighborhood.”

“I think I can handle a few thugs,” I assured him.

Jake rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Put the jacket on. It’s cold out.”

I grinned, shoving my arms into his leather jacket. “Yes, mother. Oh, we gotta stop by Nana’s real quick.”

With a genuine smile, Jake turned down the street. “Good, she owes me a dessert.”

“Nana owes you a dessert?” I asked, tucking my hands into the warmth of his sleeves.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “She lost a bet.”

“Nana bet you?!”

With a chuckle, the bartender shrugged. “It was just over Quinn’s cake. She bet I wouldn’t find one Quinn liked, and I bet I could. Obviously, given how my shirt ended up covered in mascara stains, I won.”

I smiled up at him, watching the city lights bathe his face in that light that just made him look irresistible. “I’m kind of impressed.”

That devilish grin made my heart skip a beat as Jake replied, "That's what impresses you? Not my good looks or my bartending skill?"

"You know, I almost forgot about your superiority complex." I pinched my fingers together. "Just a little bit."

"Well, guess I'll have to dial it up then."

"Guess so," I said with a fearless grin. "Wouldn't want anyone to forget how amazing you are."

The diner was filled with people when we arrived, a bustling hub of family and food, and fun. We didn't even have a real chance to get through the door before Nana pulled us both into her arms, whispering her prayers. "Oh, my sweet children!"

I borrowed into her spiced perfume and her warmth, letting that rare and fleeting feeling of peace fill me. "How's your night going, Nana?"

She pulled away, holding both mine and Jake's cheeks. "Better now that I have seen you both. Are you staying for dinner?"

"I'm actually here to grab some soup for Isaac."

"Yes," she replied with a thoughtful hum. "Quinn told me he has been ill. I'll pack all his favorites! And you," she pointed at Jake. "I assume you'll want your dessert as well?"

Jake chuckled. "Only if it isn't too much trouble."

Waving him off with an Arabic curse, she smiled. "What do you want, sweet boy?"

"I'll let the expert decide," he deferred, gesturing to me.

"Do you have any sumac left?"

"Lemon?" She assumed correctly.

"You know me too well, Nana."

"Of course I do!" She hurried to the back, emerging with a pile of food and to-go boxes. Jake and I stepped up to the counter and helped her pack it all when she gave me a sly look. "On the topic of wants and knowing, I've meant to ask… What do you want for your birthday this year, my Habibi?"

I sighed and gave her a stiff smile. "You already know my answer, Nana."

"Hadha maratan 'ukhraa?" She sighed and stroked my cheek. "'Ant nur watastahiqu aliahtifal."

I knew the rough translation, having heard the words so many times before. You are a light, and you deserve celebrating. Ignoring the pang of guilt and sorrow, her words filled me with, I nodded to the back. "I'm gonna go say hi to Abdul."

"So I get no answer?"

Rolling my eyes, I kissed her cheek. "I gave you an answer eanzat eajuz eanida."

Nana whirled, the newspaper already rolled and raised to hit me as she shouted after me. "I am no old goat!"

Laughing to myself, I slid into the kitchen where Abdul and the other young cooks were pushed together, slaving over the food.

Jake watched Lena scurry away from the old woman with a smile. Nana returned the newspaper to the small holder and shook her head. "Such mischief!"

"She is quite mischievous," he replied.

"Stubborn, too," Nana added, shaking her head. "Every year, I ask what she wants for her birthday. A tradition for all of my extended children, and every year that girl tells me the same thing."

Jake leaned forward slightly. "What does she say?"

"She says: Don't fuss! I don't need anything, Nana."

With a shrug, he considered her reply. "Maybe she just doesn't want anything."

The old woman frowned and shook her head, a deep sorrow filling her eyes as she looked up at him. "No, that is not what it is."

"What is it then?"

She cursed herself quietly. "You are a smart boy, Jake. By now, it is no secret to you that our Lena's past is… It is complicated."

Looking over at the door the redhead disappeared through he nodded. "Yeah, so I've been told."

"It is no one's story to tell but hers," she insisted. "But, you will need to know that her birthday is a very painful and very joyous day."

"Patrick said it was when she got back. Where was she before?"

"An evil place," Nana said with bitter anger. With a quick shake of her head, she muttered another prayer before that anger quickly shifted to pride. "Our girl is so strong. Yet, she still feels the pain that those lost years brought. So, when she says she does not want anything… It is not what she truly feels. She wants so much but does not feel she deserves it because of what was done to her… Because of what she has done."

Jake frowned, the two refocusing on packing the food. In the silence of his own mind, the answers he had raged against the questions that lingered until the words were practically forced from him. "Who was he? The asshole that hurt her?"

Nana met his gaze of burning fire with one of her own. "A man I pray every day you will never have to meet."

With the food in hand, Jake and I caught a cab. The drive was quiet, filled with the smell of Nana's food and whatever clearly cheap cologne the cabbie had doused himself in. It felt awkward between us, Jake's playful mood having faded since I returned from the kitchen at Nana's. I could only assume it was because of worry about Isaac or something else that he simply didn't want to talk about at the moment. So, I swallowed my questions and shifted my focus to Isaac.

We approached the apartment with caution. It wasn’t the worst place I’d seen, but it was still very obviously run down and housing multiple gang affiliates. As I knocked, the scuff marks on Isaac’s door made my heart hammer in my chest. “Isaac! It’s Lena and Jake. We've got the food from Nana's.”

There wasn’t an answer, so I knocked again. Jake looked around, taking note of the way a few of the gang members stared at us. “Maybe he’s not home.”

From behind the door, I could hear the floor breaking with movement. With a sigh and a more gentle knock, I said, "Isaac… I don't know what's going on, but… We're here for you. All of us."

The locks clicked, and the door slowly opened, revealing my friend's black and blue swollen face. "Jesus."

A rough sob escaped Isaac's throat, pushing me into action as I stepped into his apartment and pulled him into me. "It's okay. I've got you. I've got you, Isaac."

Jake stayed standing while I sat beside Isaac on his couch and held him. I could tell this wasn’t his first time handling a situation like this, but no matter how many times he’d seen such, he still didn’t know what to do. No one did. I stroked Isaac’s hair and let him cry as he tearfully attempted to apologize for lying to us all. “I’m so sorry, Lee… I-”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Isaac,” I replied instantly. “Nothing.”

He wiped his nose with his long sleeve, only highlighting the cuts on his fingers. “I just didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

I nodded into his head and gently pulled him back to look at him. “What happened?”

“It-”

“Don’t even try to tell me it’s nothing.” I shook my head. “This is not nothing.”

Nodding solemnly, he sighed. “My ex-boyfriend recently moved back to the city and heard I was doing well. He’s a toxic narcissist, so that obviously didn’t sit well. Apparently, he took it as some sort of insult or something and tracked me down. Almost busted my door down, and then he and some of his buddies beat the shit out of me.” Tears filled his eyes, and the far-off look in them told me everything I needed to know. “They said they’d be coming back, so I just… locked the door and hoped for the best… you know?”

"Did you call Dom?"

Isaac nodded, roughly wiping his eyes. "He said he'd take care of it. I tried calling him a few days ago, but he never answered."

Stay calm, I reminded myself. Dom was a busy man. He had his business to run, other gangs to keep his eyes on, and his attention was still on making sure Tony stayed gone. He cared about Isaac, about all of us, and if he told him he was figuring it out, then he was. These simple reminders did little to keep the frustrated anger from boiling up in my chest. If Dom was too busy to fix this, I'd do it myself. "Give me a name."

"No! Lena!" Isaac gripped my hands tightly. "I don't want you to get involved."

"Isaac." I gently touched his cheek, grinding my teeth together at the way he flinched. "Give me his name. Please."

"He could hurt you," the man insisted. "I would never be able to forgive myself if he hurt you, Lena."

I smiled a gesture that barely concealed my rage. "He won't hurt me. Please. Let me help."

The room was deathly still for a moment as Isaac cried. "Aaron. Aaron Walsh. He lives a few blocks away. But… He - he's got gang protection. You'll never get near him."

I pulled my phone from my pocket. "Yes, I will."

Jake took my place on the couch, holding an ice pack out to Isaac and calmly offering him any reassurance he could think of. "Come on, I'll help you pack a bag."

The phone rang three times before a grunting voice picked up. "This better be important," I could hear a female voice in the background, moaning as she demanded to know why the hell he answered a call. "I'm in the middle of something."

"Eddie," I replied. "It's me."

"Lena!" He cheered with another grunt. "Been a while, kid."

"Yeah, yeah, pull your dick out of whatever hooker you've got tonight and meet me at Ozzy's."

The man laughed. "Bossy, bossy! I take it this isn't a social call."

I sighed, punching the bridge of my nose. "Bring Alexi and Igor."

He shushed the woman. "This is serious, then? Give me a name."

"Aaron Walsh." I looked over my shoulder at Jake as he helped Isaac pack his bag. "I want to be there."

"Is the big bad Lena coming out of her shell?" Eddie mocked before he continued in Russian, sifter than before. "You know what tonight will be. Are you sure you're up for that?"

"I'm not stupid. Get your shit and meet me at Ozzy's." I replied.

"What about him?" Eddie asked, his voice growing tense. "You know it'll be war if he sees me."

"Just do it. I'll deal with Dom."

"At your command," he said with another laugh and a thick accent as he articulated his Spanish, "See you soon."

"See you soon,” I replied back.

Isaac made a fuss over Jake carrying his bag for him but relaxed slightly at Jake’s calm levelheadedness. It was new seeing the bartender so quiet and not smug, but I assumed it was just because this was how Jake was used to handling situations like this. Despite his constant slew of complaints and asshole-ish comments, Jake cared. He cared about the people he worked with, even the ones he didn’t spend a lot of time with, like the kitchen staff - Isaac included. As we drove to Ozzy’s, Jake was nothing but gentle, making sure that the battered and beaten man sitting between us knew he was safe now and that he wasn’t alone.

Ozzy’s was now fully prepared for Halloween, with lights adorning the old brick walls and fake spiderwebs hanging over the doorway. Even the bikers all did their part in making sure their bikes were scuffed up and looking the part to help sell Ozzy’s theatrics this year. We led Isaac inside, shoving people out of the way until we reached the bar, where everyone looked up to greet us. Their smiles all fell.

Quinn and Patrick were the first ones on their feet, steadily making their way toward Isaac and enveloping him in a hug. Prue asked questions, carefully examining him to use what first aid knowledge she had to access his injuries. The restaurant staff was livid, especially the kitchen, but it was my brother's reaction that made my heart sink even lower.

Peter stood at the edge of the bar, his eyes set in teary anger as he looked at the man he’d once told me he thought he loved. Anger wasn’t something Peter felt often, but when he did… it was difficult to keep his head on his shoulders while he was in that kind of state. So, instead of moving to embrace Isaac like everyone else, Peter disappeared out the back door. Ozzy gave me a calm, reassuring hand gesture as he followed close behind him.

“What’s everyone all riled up about?” Dom’s voice boomed over the music as he and a few bikers made their way toward the bar.

Turning my head to glare at him, I sighed. “Isaac’s been beaten half to death, so everyone’s kind of worried about him.”

Dom’s face turned white as he looked at the bruises and poorly bandaged cuts that littered the kitchen boy’s skin. “Holy shit.”

“He said he called you,” I told him, carefully watching the delayed reaction and the confusion play on his face. “Do you remember that?”

“I don’t,” he answered. Guilt swam in his eyes, along with a misty look that I knew too well. “I-”

"Well shit," a deep and mischief-filled voice boomed from among the crowd. Dom's face twisted in an instant. Shit. Eddie strolled out from the crowd, two of his biggest and best fighters at his sides. He looked Dom up and down with a bitter grin. "You got even uglier than the last time I saw you."

Eddie’s short, dark hair made him look younger, while the tattoos that stained his tanned skin made him look older… more experienced. It was the shit-eating grin of his that really sealed his reputation as the biggest asshole in the world. Asshole or not, Eddie had connections and manpower. He could help me get the justice Isaac deserved. But Dom wasn’t gonna like it.

The bikers moved, surrounding them in seconds as Dom shoved away from the bar and stormed toward him. "Get the fuck out."

Eddie's smile only grew. "You gonna make me?"

"Sure, I'd love a chance to kick your ass again."

"That time doesn't count," he replied, a deep-rooted sorrow in his eyes. "We both know I was holding back."

Dom shook his head. "Last chance. Leave, or this'll get ugly."

Eddie's brows raised slightly as he put his hands in his pockets. "I didn't stop by just for shits and giggles. I was invited."

"No one here would invi-"

"I called him," I blurted out. All eyes turned to me, even Dom's. The anger was mixed with hurt now, scorching me with that look. "I called him Dom."

"Alley," he growled. "Now."

Jake stood, looking ready to deck Dom in the face. I put a hand on his arm and shook my head. "I've got this."

He took a deep breath before he nodded stiffly. "Holler if you need me."

I smiled, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry, tough guy, I'll be sure to scream your name.

"Promises, promises," he replied with a grin.

Dom had slammed the back door shut behind him. The uncontrolled rage was my first clue that something was off. The sight of him sluggishly pacing was the second. I shut the door behind me, drawing his attention back to me. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that Isaac needed help. And since you have apparently been too busy to answer the phone, I called someone I knew would."

"Jesus," Dom scoffed. "I said I was handling it, so it'll get handled."

Everything was off about him. The anger, the flippant attitude, not already having this whole thing dealt with… All of it pointed to one thing. "Are you high right now?"

He chuckled an entirely angry and bitter sound. "I'm a drug dealer, kid."

"Not one that uses his own product," I replied harshly. "Is this why you haven't been answering your phone? Have you just been getting fucked up all week while Isaac needed your help? What the fu-"

"God, just get off my damn ass about this, Sarah!"

The name broke both of us out of the heated exchange. Anger snuffing out like embers being doused with water. Dom's slightly bloodshot eyes grew wet as he ground his teeth together and turned away from me. I understood the pain that consumed him better than anyone. With a soft sigh and a gentle voice, I said, "I'm not her, Dom..."

"I know."

"I-"

"Don't. Don't you dare apologize," he said raggedly. "You know I hate it when you do that."

"I know."

With a grounding sigh, his back straightened. "Go. Eddie's a fucking moron… He's…" He shook his head. "He can handle this."

I nodded in agreement, carefully asking, "What about you?"

"I'll get my shit figured out."

"Promise?" I asked, almost timidly, holding out my pinky to him. A promise, but also a peace offering.

He looked at my finger, closing his own around it and shutting his eyes, letting one tear roll down his cheek. "I promise."

I carefully wrapped my arms around him. "I'm sorry."

A choked chuckle made his chest stutter. He held onto me for a second, squeezing me tight in a way that made it clear I wasn't the one he was hugging. Then, he gently nudged me away from him. "Go on."

Nothing I said would offer him the relief he sought. Nothing I said would bring her back. So, I turned and left, moving past the bar and to Eddie's side as he continued grinning and goading Dom's bikers on, hoping for a fight. "Big Brother all done tryin' to play puppet master?"

"Wipe that grin off your face," I replied. "Makes you look even dumber than you already are."

"Anything for you, Sweetheart."

His men stepped in front of us, acting as a wall of muscle as Jake tried to move beside me. I slapped the back of the nearest one, Alexi. "Touch him, and I'll break your fucking arm," I growled in Russian. "He's with me."

Alexi looked at Eddie, who gave Jake a curious look before he waved the men off. His dark eyes gleamed down at me with an unspoken teasing. "Hope your boy has a strong stomach. Tonight's gonna get real messy."

"We aren't killing anyone," I warned him quietly, hoping Jake wouldn't hear.

"Oh, you're no fun sober," Eddie whined as he threw his arm around my shoulder, deliberately cutting me off from Jake. "But, you know I'll do anything for you, Sweetheart."

Jake looked livid as we made our way out of Ozzy's toward the car waiting for us. I slipped beneath Eddie's arm and turned to him. "You don't have to come with me if-"

"I'm coming," he interrupted sternly as he eyed Eddie.

The man made an approving noise saying in Spanish, "We'll see how tough he really is."

"Just wait in the car!" I hissed at him, earning a pinch to my cheek as he followed my instructions. "Jake, this isn't going to be a pretty sight."

"I know that."

Touching his arm, I shook my head. "It's not like the fighting rings or boxing or even Dom's shit. This is… It's going to be a lot. I just want you to know you don't have to be there for it."

Part of me wanted to beg him not to come. What would he think of me when he saw the darkest parts come alive? Would that mild fascination his eyes shined with all the other times he saw me fight finally shift to disgust and fear? Would he finally see me the way I saw myself?

"I'm not leaving you alone with this guy," he finally said.

"Eddie's an asshole, but he wouldn't hurt me." Go home. Please.

Jake's determination didn't falter. "I'm coming with you, Lena."

I sighed. "Jake-"

"This asshole hurt Isaac," he said coldly. "And he's gonna keep doing it if we don't make him stop. I'm coming."

It was then that I finally understood Jake's intentions. He wasn't just coming with me to make sure I was safe, but because he was just as angry as I was that Isaac had to suffer through that kind of pain. More so, he thought he had to suffer alone, a thing both of us knew all too well.

I nodded. "Alright. Just…”

“Try not to get my ass kicked?” Jake asked with a hint of a smile.

I found some small comfort in his attempts to be normal about the whole thing - to act like we weren’t both on our way to kick some guy's ass with a bunch of gang members. It gave me some hint of hope that the insanity that followed me most of my life wouldn’t be a dealbreaker for Jake like it was for so many others. Maybe, when the time came, Jake would look at the darker parts of me and not be afraid. I forced myself to swallow those hopes as we climbed into Eddie’s car and settled into the fine leather seats.

Eddie was insufferable the whole drive. He asked Jake questions clearly meant to get a rise out of him, but he was at least impressed when Jake kept his composure. He was clearly unhappy with the company, but Jake didn’t let it get past a harsh scowl or a snippy comeback. And while Eddie would never admit it, I could tell he was impressed.

The car stopped in front of the alley leading to the apartment building this Aaron Walsh lived in. A group of gang boys approached, hands settled on whatever guns they had as Eddie got out of the car with a grin. “You’re gonna wanna rethink that.”

They kept up appearances as they spat at his feet. “The fuck you doin' on our turf?”

“Got some business with a buddy of yours. Aaron. It’d be in your best interest to let us get it settled without interruption.”

“You gonna kill him?” They asked, looking at one another for a minute.

“Not tonight.”

“Shame,” one of the boys replied. “Guy’s insufferable.”

The biggest of them nodded to the building. “Up the stairs. His place is B8.”

Fishing cash out of his pocket Eddie tossed it to the pavement. "Tell your boss I stopped by."

As we walked, I punched him in the shoulder as he giggled. "Stop being a moron. Mav's gonna fucking kick your ass."

"Relax, sweetheart," he purred in Spanish. "Mav likes me now."

"She does not!" I argued, using the conversation to keep from feeling the rise of anxiety in my gut as we neared the stairs.

Eddie knew, his eyes scanning my face for a moment before he sighed. "Last chance to leave before this gets ugly."

I shook my head, inhaling a deep, burning breath. "He hurt Isaac."

Leading the group up the rickety stairs, I marched across the catwalk and stood in front of the door. Bile wanted so badly to come pouring from my throat as every inch of me trembled with fear and rage. A monster fighting against the shedding of its human disguise. Eddie leaned against the doorframe, hood up and a relaxed nature to him that helped ease me as I pounded on the door.

Eddie smiled wide when it opened. "Trick or treat?"

"What the fuck?" The man asked, taking a defensive stance. In an instant, one pathetically short second, the monster broke free.

My fist collided with his throat, and he stumbled back into the apartment. Eddie laughed. "Well shit, looks like it's trick for you, pendejo."

I stepped inside first, eyes trained on the man as he scrambled to his feet and tried to swing at me. Stepping just off to the side, I let his fist collide with the wall. I grabbed his arm and shoved him back into one of the chairs at the table. His friends, people with bruised knuckles and poorly washed blood-stained clothes, all clamored around, trying and failing to get an upper hand on the sudden attack.

Eddie shot a warning into the table beside Aaron's head, and everything stopped. With a disappointed sound, he nodded to the table. "Sit down."

"I dunno who the hell you think you are-" Aaron tried to say.

"I am Eduardo," Eddie replied simply. "And you are the man that thinks it's fun to beat up ex-boyfriends."

Aaron's lips twitched into a smile as he chuckled, looking at his friends who joined in despite the two Russians towering over them. "So, the fucking fag is still lying bout me being his boyfriend or whatever? Pathetic." Setting his hand on the table, fingers marred with cuts similar to the ones Isaac had, he shrugged. "Seems there's been a misunderstanding."

The voice that echoed in the dark wasn't Eddie's or Alexi's, or Igor's. It was mine. "You like to play games?"

"What?" He replied with a laugh.

I gestured to his fingers. "Knife game?"

He shrugged again. "I play on occasion."

"More fun to make other people play, though, isn't it?" I could hardly recognize my own voice. Keeping my eyes far from Jake, still unsure of what I'd see if I looked at him, I grabbed the gun from Eddie's hand, knowing it'd be his trusty revolver.

Aaron smiled, and it was like I could see the scene Isaac had once described play in his eyes like some fucked up movie. I could picture him holding Isaac's arm down and tauntingly urging him to keep his fingers apart, or else as he moved the blade between his fingers faster and faster, cutting him deliberately. "It is pretty fun watching other people try to play a game you control the outcome of.”

"Play the game, Lena," Tony said, spinning the cylinder again.

I flinched at the mechanical sound of it whirling. Tony held the gun out to me, expecting me to take it, but I couldn't move. My body was suspended in a frozen state of shock. With an annoyed growl, he grabbed my hand and put the gun in it, lifting the barrel to my head and forcing my finger over the trigger.

Tears rolled down my cheeks. Click.

"Play." Click. "The." Click. "Game." Click.

He turned the gun on himself, eyes wild as he pulled the trigger. Click. The odd mix of relief and disappointment weighed heavy on my chest as Tony's deranged laugh echoed. With a careless swing of his arm, he turned the gun on the group of housekeepers.

Rada discreetly lifted a hand, urging me to stay in my seat and not draw any more attention to myself. He pulled the trigger again.

Bang.

I emptied the bullets, making eye contact with Aaron as I put one back in and spun the cylinder. "I'm partial to Russian Roulette myself."

Behind me, I could hear Jake make some sort of commotion as I lifted the gun to my head and pulled the trigger once. Twice. Three times. Click. Click. Click. Everything felt surreal, my body acting on its own as my mind lashed out. If I squinted, Aaron looked enough like Tony that I could pretend.

Inside, I was screaming, clawing at the imagined vision of him sitting smugly in front of me. Outwardly, however, I looked calm. My hands didn't shake. My legs never wobbled. It looked like I felt nothing at all.

"Reign it in, sweetheart," Eddie reminded me, the Spanish helping pull me from the memories and the reflex that came with them. He set a warm, calming hand on my elbow. "He isn't your monster."

This wasn't my monster. My jaw clenched, but my body relaxed. This wasn't about me. This was about Isaac. Aaron took my relaxation as a sign of weakness and quickly reached out for his knife.

Bang.

His knee practically exploded in a gush of blood and a sickening sound. Worthless I loaded another bullet into the gun and spun the cylinder. The knife slid across the floor as I knelt in front of the now screaming man, pressing the now rather hot barrel into the hole I'd shot in him. "I don't want to hear another excuse or lie come out of your mouth."

"I-"

I pulled the trigger again. Eddie clicked his tongue almost in time with the guns empty one. "I wouldn't play games with her pendejo. She's shot more men than you've even tried to fuck."

"You sought out my friend, and you beat him." Those were the facts.

Again he tried to argue, "I didn't even-" Click. "Okay! Okay! Fuckin psycho bitch!"

Click. Click. I could feel him shaking beneath the gun as I picked the knife up from the floor and held it to his throat. "You leave Isaac alone for good now. If you even so much as pass him on the goddamn street, I'll come back here, and I'll slit your worthless throat."

With a pathetic whine and a quick nod, Aaron relented. A sick rush of adrenaline and pride hit me as I stood, handing the gun back to Eddie and pocketing the knife. Eddie gave me a close look for a second, focusing on the blood that I was trying to ignore. “And now?”

“Now you do what you’re good at.”

He smirked, nodding to his boys, who didn’t hesitate to follow his orders. “No permanent damage tonight, boys. Just a good old-fashioned beating like the one they gave to our boy.” He fished an old bandana out of his pocket and held it out to me. “Go get yourself cleaned up, sweetheart. We’ll be right down.”

I took it and turned, eyes locking with Jake’s. Jake. I had almost forgotten he’d come, and then the rush, any good feeling I’d gotten from what happened here tonight, was gone. The shame and guilt and fear. His face revealed nothing about what he thought, eyes closed off, and his posture stiff. I swallowed the lump in my throat and quickly made my way past him down to the corner of the alley, where I was forced to sit by the uncontrollable shaking of my legs.

What was he thinking? I wondered, steadying myself with my hands on the cool pavement. Did he finally see it? The monster I was? Jake walked calmly to my side, lowering himself to sit beside me. With an almost painful sigh, I forced the question out. “Well, what are you thinking”

"I think…" He began, and I closed my eyes and braced myself for whatever hideous word he'd chosen. "That was pretty badass."

"What?" I asked, head shooting up and eyes opening wide, practically gawking up at him.

Jake smiled, sitting beside me and gently wiping some of the blood off my hands with Eddie’s bandana. "Don't look so surprised, princess. You know I like watching you fight."

I shook my head. "That wasn't a fight. That was assault."

"Asshole had it coming after what he did to Isaac. He should consider himself lucky."

"Very lucky," Eddie's voice chimed in as he and his men joined us. "He's alive and won't have any lasting damage. Just like I promised."

I quickly stood up, wrapping my arms around him. "Thanks for showing up. I know it was the last thing you wanted to do tonight."

His strong hand rubbed my back. "On the contrary!" Pulling me off him, he swiped a thumb across my cheek, likely rubbing off some blood. "I've always got time for you, sweetheart. Sabes que."

“Still, you know I appreciate it.”

“I know.” He nodded to his car. “Let’s get outta here before Mav shows up and kicks both our asses.”

“She wouldn’t kick my ass,” I argued. “She actually likes me.”

“Whatever.” He nodded to Jake as he stood, now beside me again. “You didn’t throw up. I’m impressed.”

Jake didn’t look too pleased with Eddie’s slightly condescending tone as he shrugged. “Thanks, I guess.”

The drive back to Ozzy’s was less tense now that Eddie wasn’t actively trying to piss Jake off. They dropped us off at the front door, where Dom and the bikers were assembled, each one of them ready to fight. Eddie made a show of pulling me in for a long hug, and I could practically see his grin at Dom’s angry face. “Don’t be a stranger, sweetheart.”

“Don’t get yourself killed, asshole.”

He laughed as they drove off, and the instant I turned, Dom looked me up and down. “You alright?”

I nodded. “Yeah. You?”

With a tense look on his face, Dom just shook his head. “I’m workin’ on it.”

"So…" Jake said with a tense clearing of his throat as we slowly made our way back inside the bar. "This Eddie guy was a real asshole. How do you know him?"

I nodded as we walked. "Eddie is an asshole, probably the biggest one I've met, but he's actually pretty sweet once you get to know him."

Jake seemed to tense at my words as he stared straight ahead. "So, was he an ex or something?"

"Eddie?" I asked with an arched brow. "An ex? Hell no! I wouldn't fuck that sleaze in a million years, not even in my more adventurous days."

"Why does he call you sweetheart all the time then?"

"Cause I am a sweetheart," I teased, bumping into him until a smile appeared on his face. "Eddie's weird. He gave me that nickname years ago when I almost bit his finger off." His head turned, and I could see the glimmering interest in that story shining in his eyes. "It's a long story. I'll tell you some other time. Anyway, he runs one of the gangs. Mostly Russians but he's got a few hispanic members as well. They're the ones that set up all those fun, highly illegal fights I used to frequent."

Jake seemed to relax as he asked, "What is it with you and gangs?"

I shrugged. "I'm just so likable."

Everyone was still gathered around Isaac, who Prue had bandaged up better. Things were clearly less tense than before, but Quinn and Patrick, in particular, kept their eyes trained on the door, looking out for any sign of trouble. The two guard dogs looked relieved when Jake and I returned, both their hackles slowly lowering as they waved us over. Isaac rose carefully from his seat, and I carefully held the knife out to him. “He won’t be bothering you again.”

Though his face was swollen, I could still see the fear vanish from him as he held that stupid knife to his chest before falling into my arms.

Peter watched Isaac closely from the back door, not inside but not entirely outside. Ozzy had found him in the alley shortly after he departed, knowing full well Peter couldn’t just walk away when Isaac was still in such visible pain. The two sat in the alley quietly for hours before Lena returned, and the tension finally resolved among them. No one wanted to just move past what had happened, but after Isaac’s insistence, they did. Everyone but him.

Finally, Ozzy spoke. “You can’t keep this up forever.”

“Keep what up?”

“Quit that,” he scolded. “You ain’t stupid, boy. You know exactly what I mean.”

He was right. Peter knew what Ozzy was referring to… he knew he spoke of the relationship between him and Isaac. It wasn’t bad, not really. The two had slept together multiple times, dated a little, and they’d both decided not to pursue it. Such an easy breakup should be a good thing, right? But Peter wasn’t stupid. He’d noticed how reluctant Isaac was to agree to part ways. He’d noticed every single lingering glance they shared every day that followed over the years. Isaac had visited him just as much as Lena had while he was stuck in the hospital. Isaac had spent the night with him on the nights where he felt particularly weak, and he’d done it all with a loving smile and no complaint.

Isaac may have agreed to the breakup, but Peter was the one that was responsible. He’d let his fear… his sickness rob them both of something that could have been beautiful. A life.

“What if…” he didn’t even want to vocalize the words. “What if I get sick again? What if I die? I don’t wanna leave him like that, torn up over some lost love.”

Oz nodded, gently reassuring him that those concerns were valid without needing to add words to it. “That is a very difficult thing to get through. Death is always hard. But, there is something worse than losing a love… it’s realizing too late that they were the love of your life. It’s wasting all the time you could’ve had together.”

Peter sighed. “He and I… we tried this already, and it’s too complicated.”

“Life’s complicated, my boy,” Ozzy laughed. “To have someone you love along for the ride is all anyone can hope for. And you love that boy. I can see it. He loves you too, by the way.”

“He does?”

“Course he does,” the old man pinched his cheek. “You’re your father's son, after all.”

Peter felt the tears stinging his eyes as he looked at Ozzy and shook his head. “I’m scared, Dad…”

The old man’s eyes grew glossy within seconds as he held Peter’s head in his hand and nodded. “I know. Oh, I know, my beautiful boy. But, as a foolish old boxer once said: fear ain’t stronger than you are…”

“Fear’s only got the power you give it.”

Ozzy nodded. “You gotta live this life to the fullest, Peter. Live it because it’s the only one you’ve got. You know that better than anyone.”

With a firm nod, Peter felt the anger and the fear in his chest dwindle. “I love you, Dad.”

Enveloping him in a tight hug, the old man sniffled into his shoulder. “I love you too, son.”

He wiped his eyes and made himself presentable as he walked back into the bar, approaching Isaac slowly. The man’s eyes lit up, still so swollen and black and blue, but the same eyes he’d fallen in love with. “Can we talk?”

“Sure.” Even after being beaten and ridiculed, Isaac was still so trusting. He followed him out to the alley and met his gaze unflinchingly. “Is something the matter?”

“N-no…” Peter sighed. “I just wanted to apologize for leaving earlier.”

Isaac looked disappointed as he nodded. “Oh, right. Well, I forgive you.”

Silence filled the chilled night between them. Peter shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment, imagining his father giving him an encouraging nod and a thumbs up. You can do this, kiddo. He could do this.

I was finally able to relax as the situation faded into the past where it belonged. Prue pulled a small bag out of her pocket and held it out to me and Quinn. “Time to draw costumes!”

Quinn pulled a paper out quickly, taking a quick glance at it before shoving it into her pocket. “What’d you get?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She teased with a smug grin.

“Fuckin bitch.” I reached over and pulled a paper out, shrugging at the neatly printed angel.

Quinn relaxed in her seat. “What’d you get?”

I answered her with my middle finger and stood up, heading out the back door to meet up with Jake in the alley. Peter and Isaac were lip-locked by the gym door, happily unaware of my presence as they lost themselves in each other. Just like old times, I wanted to tease, but instead just kept my head down and walked past them.

Jake and Whisky were relaxed on the couch when I walked through the door. Jake nodded to the door. “See your brother and Isaac on your way in?”

“Yeah,” I replied with a soft laugh as I sat beside him, scratching Whisky’s chin. “It’s good to see them back at it.”

“They looked happy.”

“I hope they are.” I snuggled into his side, exhaustion finally taking hold of me. “They deserve that.”

Jake turned to smile down at me, nudging me. “Why don’t we call it a night and get you home?”

“You haven’t even gotten to smoke yet.”

He shrugged. “I don’t mind. Besides, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

I groaned when he stood up. “I’m comfy, though!”

With a brilliant look in his eyes, he tapped my knee. “You’re it.”

“You fucker!” I jumped up, hurrying down the alley after him as he ran, Whisky following close on our heels.

Jake was sure they looked insane as they chased each other down the sidewalk, narrowly dodging people the whole way to Lena’s apartment, where she finally slapped her hand on his back and breathlessly laughed. “HA! I got you!”

“You did,” he replied, gesturing to the front door. “And I got you to your apartment.”

“How sly,” she replied, shrugging off his leather jacket and tossing it to him. “Here. It’s cold out.”

He held it, quietly appreciating the warmth that still lingered from her body heat. “Thanks.”

“Goodnight, Jerk.”

Rolling his eyes, he shrugged the jacket on. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

She groaned, flipping him off as she closed her apartment door. He was still laughing as a soft meowing and a gentle nudge against his leg made him stop and look down. Hemingway wove between his legs, rubbing his head lovingly on Jake’s jeans. “Hey, bud. Did you follow us all that way?”

Meow.

Jake looked around at the slightly busy street. It wasn’t like the bar. There were more cars and more loud noises that could spook the little cat. So, Jake carefully gathered him up in his arms, tucking him into his leather jacket. “Well, I can’t just leave you out here. Guess you’re coming home with me tonight.”

Carrying the surprisingly calm cat the whole way home, Jake quickly deposited him on the floor of his apartment, hanging his jacket up as Hemingway cautiously sniffed about the new space. While the small creature was hairless, Jake could still tell he had dirt built up on his skin, so he searched his bathroom for a soft soap and got a bath set up for him.

Getting Hemingway into the bath was more challenging, but thirty minutes and a soaking wet floor and shirt later, the cat was clean. Jake leaned against his counter, shirtless and eating a reheated carton of rice from the Asian restaurant downstairs. He watched the small cat fling himself between the bed and the chair before burrowing beneath the covers and settling with little paw movements that Jake couldn’t help but find adorable. He made a mental list of all the things he’d need to get in the morning to help the cat settle into his apartment, having abandoned the very thought of putting him back out on the street the second he brought him home.

Laying in bed that night with the light snores and purring of the cat buried somewhere in his bed, Jake felt more at ease, finally letting the unexpected stress that the day had brought wash away.

Halloween was a popular holiday in the city. New York was always crowded, but on Halloween, it was crowded and filled with costumes, horror, and kids. Hectic and crazy and kind of beautiful. Prue’s apartment was light and colorful, with plants in every corner as Will and I sat across from one another, waiting for her to finish getting dressed.

He was dressed as Fred from Scooby Doo, which meant that Prue 100% pulled Daphne this year. She emerged from the bathroom and squealed happily. The purple dress complimented her skin tone and made her smile pop. She was adorable, and it was obvious that Will agreed by the way he jumped to his feet and met her in the doorway with a smothering kiss.

I averted my eyes, quietly readjusting the small set of wings on my back as the sun began to fully vanish on the horizon. “You two look amazing.”

“You look cute!” She signed back, carefully helping fix my hair and simple white dress. “Just like Juliet in that movie.”

My eyes narrowed. “That’s pretty specific. You and Quinn wouldn’t happen to have rigged the draw… would you?”

She clapped, turning away from me to avoid any more questions. “Time to go!”

Sneaky little bitches! If they’d rigged the costume draw this year, that meant I was going to be in for a long night.

Jake looked at the box sitting on his bed, oddly actually considering putting the costume on and dressing up for the first year in, well, forever. He didn’t, though. It was like he told Quinn he wasn’t a kid anymore, and he sure as hell didn’t do costumes. So he put his leather jacket on and headed to the door. “Behave while I’m gone, Hem.”

The cat continued to play with the toy Jake had gotten him as he walked out the door and headed to Ozzy’s. It was no secret that Jake wasn’t a fan of Halloween, an opinion that Simone greatly influenced all through his youth. The fake scares and the cheap costumes and decorations just never appealed to him. A sign of maturity, as Simone put it. So he moved through the streets, avoiding the festivities and rolling his eyes at the sight of the pumpkins that lined every block.

Ozzy’s was the only spot he kind of liked seeing decorated. It was clear the old owner put a lot of effort and thought into it, and it certainly brought the business in. The line stretched out and around the block, and he was glad he wasn’t going to have to wait in it. Music and lively celebrations filled his ears as he hurried down the stairs and made his way to the bar where his friends were supposed to meet. Ozzy smiled from behind it, dressed as a skeleton and serving drinks with fake eyeballs in them. “Happy Hallows Eve!”

Jake chuckled. “Happy Halloween, Oz. Where’s everyone?”

“Quinn and Ari are in the booth. Sasha is running around telling people to lift his sheet, and the others are kinda scattered around.”

“Lena here yet?” He asked, ignoring the old man's grin.

Quinn’s voice echoed from behind him, clearly trying to sound like the redhead. “Of course I am!”

Turning he couldn’t help but instantly laugh at her fake red wig and very dramatic interpretation of one of Lena’s outfits. That laughing only intensified as Ari slid into the free space beside her, dressed head to toe in some of his old clothes she’d likely snagged from his locker. “Holy shit.”

“We’re hilarious, we know,” Quinn bragged.

Ari smiled, breaking character. “I’ll put these back in your locker when I’m done with them.”

“Keep em,” he insisted. “They’re old anyway.”

She and Quinn frowned as they looked at his plain clothes. “Did you not get the costume?”

He rolled his eyes. “I got it, but I told you I don’t dress up.”

Quinn made a disapproving sound and folded her arms across her chest. “Fine then, but it’s not us you’re disappointing.”

“I’m sure everyone else won’t care that I’m not dressed up.”

They both smiled as they looked behind him toward the entrance. “I dunno about that.”

He turned, heart-stopping at the sight of Lena standing at the top of the stairs. She was bathed in the lights Ozzy had set up. She was in a simple but stunning white dress with two small wings on her back and her hair delicately half-tied up. An angel. A very specific angel, he realized, turning to look at Quinn, who just nodded at him.

I hurried through the crowd and instantly sent Quinn a glare. Her fake red hair was practically glowing beneath the lights as she spread her arms wide and smiled. “Like my costume?”

“You look like a cheap hooker,” I replied.

“Careful,” she warned with the most smug grin I’d ever seen. “These are your clothes.”

Ari emerged from the bar, dressed in a familiar t-shirt and jeans with a leather jacket. “Holy shit.”

“I’m Jake!” She giggled happily.

“I see that.”

Quinn pulled Ari in close. “Should we make out to really sell the act?”

Ari wiggled her brows. “Yes, please!”

I moved past them, meeting Jake’s widened gaze with a hot blush rushing to my cheeks. He was in is normal clothes, not dressed up in anything festive or remotely Halloween themed, just like I’d expected. Hiding the pang of disappointment with a gesture to Quinn and Ari I cleared my throat. “Those two are quite the pair, aren’t they?”

Jake just nodded, casting his eyes down at his feet. “I gotta go.”

“What?” I asked as he made his way past me, quickly heading toward the door. “Okay then…”

The night carried on, and after an hour or two, I decided to finally stop watching the door, hoping Jake would come back. Ozzy slid me another drink as Patrick and Katie finally showed up, dressed Morticia and Gomez from the Addams Family. “You look amazing!”

“So do you,” I replied, meeting her hug.

“Where’s the boy?” Patrick asked, looking around at the sea of people.

I shrugged. “He left.”

Katie frowned. “Not a fan of Halloween?”

“I don’t think so,” I answered, trying not to sound too bummed out. “He didn’t even dress up or anything, so I guess I should’ve seen it coming.”

Patrick’s lips curled into a smile as he nodded to the door. “Oh, I wouldn’t count him out just yet.”

I turned, eyes finding him in seconds as he stood above the crowd on the stairs leading in from outside. My eyes widened, jaw growing slack in awe. He was dressed head to toe in a Ghostbuster costume, Egon judging by the glasses, my childhood crush. He looked like a dork, and I fucking loved it. I…

Shaking my head, I looked at Quinn, who fixed her red wig and nodded me toward the stairs. I should have seen it coming. Of course, she would set Jake and me up in hopes we'd fuck before the bet between her and Sasha expired. As I watched Jake vanish into the crowd, my heart thundering in my chest and my body moving to find him, I realized she might've just pulled it off.

We met in the center of the crowd, bodies all dressed in various costumes, moving to the music beneath the everchanging green, orange, and purple lights. Jake looked even better close up, I quickly realized as my mouth went dry. Quinn 100℅ pulled it off. His eyes trailed down, taking in every inch of my costume while mine did the same with his. “Hey.”

He smiled, looking almost nervous. “Hey.”

“I thought you didn’t do costumes?” I gestured to him.

“Usually, I don’t,” he chuckled. “But, I figured, why the hell not?”

"You know," I started with a burning face as I moved closer and dragged my finger down the buttons of his costume. "I've always wanted to fuck a Ghostbuster."

Jake chuckled. "Why am I not surprised?"

I shrugged, daring to meet his heated gaze. "That your way of saying you're not interested?"

He shook his head. "Oh, I'm interested. Always thought girls in angel costumes were sexy."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know," he replied, distracted. "But I am very interested in seeing that dress above your hips and those legs wrapped around my waist while you moan my name."

I smiled, my body shifting closer to his as if on instinct. "These wings aren't the best quality, but they'd be a good place to pull on, you know, to help bounce me." The on your dick bit of the sentence didn't need to be said aloud for Jake to catch my meaning.

His eyes shifted to them, hands grabbing a fist full of my dress. "That's a very good idea. Though, I am very tempted to just rip it all off you."

"How blasphemous." My eyes were practically glued to his lips. "Meet me in the alley?"

He opened his mouth. "Are you-"

"I'm not drunk or high or anything." I pressed my lips to his, soft and short, pulling away to whisper against them. "I want you."

His fingers traced down my spine, testingly tugging on the base of the wings. "Good, because there's nothing I want more than this."

I pulled back, lifting his head with a finger beneath his chin to correct his wandering eyes. "Don't keep me waiting."

"I wouldn't dream of it, princess."

As I slipped out the back door and practically sprinted through the gym to the alley, no one seemed to notice. I paced, heart racing and body feeling hot even in the cold air, waiting. When the door opened a minute or two later, and Jake closed it behind him, both of us just stood there and watched each other for a minute. I moved first.

My hands fisted into his costume, pulling him down to meet my ravenous lips. His hands instantly pulled my dress up, exposing my bare legs to the October air. With one hand keeping my dress up, he used the other to pull my thigh up to rest along his waist. Jake turned us both, pressing me into the rough brick wall where he pulled his lips away from mine to breathlessly order. “Take your underwear off.”

Suppressing a moan with teeth to my bottom lip, I followed his desperate command and slid the simple pair of panties down my legs, kicking them off to the side and looking up into his black eyes. “Better?” It was meant to sound smug and confident, but instead just sounded so… wrecked.

Jake’s hands slid up higher, fingers gliding along the curve of my bare ass with a nod. His hips pressed into mine, forcing a shocked moan from my lips. “Yeah, that’s better.”

“Fuck,” I whispered, burying my hands back into his shirt and pulling until the buttons popped and his chest was exposed to me.

My hands slid down his shoulders, helping him pull the material off so I could run my nails down his back. “God damn.”

Hoisting me up, Jake used the wall to help steady me as my legs wrapped around his waist, his deft fingers reaching between us to roll his thumb along my already sensitive clit. I ground down on him, the hot moans filling the air between us with fog. “Jake.” I threw my head back, opening my neck to the desperation of his mouth. “Couch. Now.”

He pushed himself back, stumbling until we both flopped onto the couch, his fingers buried inside me as my hands fumbled with the rest of his suit. My hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him in time with each lift of my hips. His mouth fell open, and a sharp gasp filled the alley as his free hand grabbed the base of my wings and started pulling, guiding me up and down. “Fuck, Lena!”

Withdrawing his fingers, his pulsing dick settled between the lips of my pussy, each movement of my hips making the tip of him catch against my clit in a way that made my legs quiver. Our lips hovered over one another, moaning and breathing into each other like it was what our lungs needed. Our dark eyes reflected one another's hunger and our desire, but deeper inside them was an unnamed thing… something so vulnerable and tender that it made the reality settle over us. This was real. This thing between us was more than sex… more than want.

Real.

“Jake,” I whispered, my hand moving between us to help guide him.

“Come on, princess,” he encouraged, roughly tugging on the straps of my dress. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

The gym door slammed against the brick. “GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF ONE ANOTHER!”

Sasha’s thick accent made Jake and I freeze, but not in shock or in embarrassment. Rage, pure fucking rage, filled my lungs and Jake’s eyes. “SASHA!”

Quinn and Ari drunkenly grabbed at the Russian. “This is cheating!”

“You can’t just barge in on them!”

“This is America, lesbians! I can do whatever I want!” Sasha yelled, also drunk.

Grinding my teeth together, I moved off of Jake’s lap, ready to start punching people. Jake got himself redressed and grabbed my arms to keep me from lashing out. “Are you guys fucking serious?!” I yelled. “Our sex is not any of your business, and you absolutely have NO RIGHT barging out here when you know we’re-”

Sasha’s watch beeped. Midnight. He cheered and waved his hands in the air. “I WIN! Pay up, you vaginas! I WIN!”

“On my god!” I groaned.

Ari and Quinn fished cash out of their costumes. “You guys couldn’t have jumped on each other like two minutes earlier?”

I pointed my finger at Quinn. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

Jake and I spent the remainder of the night bitterly watching everyone else around us enjoy their night, unable to sneak off again because of Sasha’s constant and loud presence announcing to everyone that we almost did it in the alley. If he hadn’t been plastered, I would have punched him. “And I stormed into the alley and pulled them off one another!” He drunkenly proclaimed again.

I still might punch him.

When the time came to go home for the night, I got saddled with the idiots that were too hammered to handle themselves. Quinn, Ari, and Sasha. Of course. The drunken fools rushed down the sidewalk, leaving Jake and me a pissed-off horney mess behind them. The whole walk to my apartment felt like torture as I listened to my friends laugh and tease all the way to my front door. Sasha slammed into it, giggling as he turned to shush everyone else. Fucking idiots. I shook my head and turned to Jake, who looked just as pissed off as I was.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," I said somewhat dejectedly as I turned to go inside.

Jake's hand cupped my elbow, gently pulling me back to face him. Our lips connected, fire igniting between them as we both sank into one another. We'd kissed so many times in the past month that this shouldn't have been much different, but it was. This kiss felt the same as our first one had. Raw and too real, filled with something deeper than either of us were capable of admitting. It went beyond want or need… Beyond everything either of us had known up till now.

As we pulled away from one another, our eyes locked, the emotions in them mingling together. Wanting and not wanting. The longer we looked at one another, the more obvious it was that we both had the same realization. Jake's breath fanned across my face as he bumped my forehead with his. "Night, princess."

"Goodnight, tough guy."

Peter stood next to Isaac as they looked out at the dark waves from the top of the bridge. They took their time, enjoying the silence and the breeze before Isaac finally lifted his arm and threw the knife off the edge. From where Peter stood, he could almost see the anger and the pain leave Isaac. Their hands intertwined, and the two walked away together, just like they had all those years ago when Peter had stumbled on the suicidal boy with dark curls and eyes that reflected the light so beautifully.

Hand in hand, they walked away from the painful chapters both of them had been stuck in. Hand in hand, Peter and Isaac shared a look - a promise. They’d face whatever came next together.

Together.

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