#the adrenaline and cold of escaping the crash site

[thetinylittlespider]

Tearing Up: Season 1

Chapter 3: Runaways

CW: Violence, Mature language, blood (Finally diminishing for now!)

KU-M9's POV

My body was cold, my muscles ached and shaked, my ears were not responding correctly to the sounds from my surroundings, the gunshot I heard was the last thing that I could get clearly. Everything that could've gone wrong went wrong. And unfortunately, my body didn't answered to my attempts to move. I was too scared.

My heart beating so fast, the cold feeling on my skin was gone but everything else went numb. And my eyes...Like vaults, holding something inside of them, something that felt horrible to keep in. What was happening?

"ALERT! CONTAINMENT BREACH LEVEL 2 AND 5! ALL SITE PERSONNEL MUST EVACUATE INMEDIATELY!" The voice came from the walls, loud and mechanic, joining the alarms and the crimson lights. Something had escaped? But what was it?

I tried to understand what was happening outside my enclosure, but when I looked up for my sister, in hopes for a response, she was not there anymore. She escaped? She left me here in this pool of blood and organs? Why did she spared my life? I couldn't even move if I wanted to. The glass on top of me that worked as a ceiling was starting to close again, after this...I was going to end up in this laboratory, for the rest of my life.

Or so I thought.

I could hear the man in the white mask being moved by his security guards, shooting at something that seemed to be attacking them, something that in a way ... scared them more than what was coming next to them.

A femenine voice could be heard, not in the obstructed sound that my ears could perceive, but a voice that I could clearly hear in my own mind, as it the sentence came out of my own imagination.

"They are all yours, take the vaccines and get out of here." Those were her only words before the room was filled with screams of pain, flesh being cut, stabbed, and torn apart.

Once my hearing came back on full function, I could hear a car at the distance, and another sentence that made no sense to me.

"Fuck! Fuck! I told you, idiots, she would break free eventually! I want a team to fix this whole damn situation! Get us out of here!" The masked man was incredibly angry, and the driver seemed to get that by how quick they left the place.

Ouch...

My chest hurts...

I found myself again overloaded by my senses, so much that I forgot my place, my own situation...The glass ceiling shut down any possible exit for me, I tried to run on adrenaline to ignore my body injuries and maybe, just maybe...Find an exit. Someone had killed everyone in the room. I could not survive trapped in here, for some reason, even when I was thinking about my death, tried to accept it...Right now I rejected it, I wanted to live, for what? I don't know. Where would I go? I don't know...I was defective, yes, It was impossible for me to survive out there, but I didn't want my story to end inside the walls of a lab.

I started to crawl on the wall inside the container, tried to stay stick, it was working...Slowly, but I was getting close to the glass, what was next? Trying to punch it? I have never punched anything before? But I guess there is a first time for everything...I need to make this one count, my injuries will not let me stay in the wall for long.

1, 2...3!

My fist hit the glass, not even causing a sign of breaking it...I was that insignificant.

1, 2...3!

I hit it again, with more strenght than before, my body shakes a little, the glass remains perfect, my feet and legs can't hold any longer to the wall. I remain dangling from my left hand, the next one should be the last attempt before I stay in this chamber, ready to die...

1...2...3!

Before I could give my last punch, a dark, colossal figure casted on top of me, it was a fist, coming down crashing the glass ceiling with almost no effort. I fell along with the shattered crystals, time felt slow...my eyes wide open by the surprise.

And before I hit the ground of blood and corpses of my siblings...a warm surface came in contact with my body, gigantic fingers covering me quickly but carefully from the glass, my heart stopped for a second, but the smell of human blood surrounding me...the familiar sense, now surrounding my whole body...

"S-Sister..." I said with a sore throat, trying to find rest in her palm, she has took the vaccine, at least one of them. She was complete now. Unlike me.

"Shhh...You are safe now, but we still need to get out of here, we were lucky that she also had plans of getting out." Yes, it was her, my sister. She had me...For a second, I tought it was my end. But, what was next? And what other person she was talking about?

She started to run, I could feel all her movements from my warm enclosure, every step she took shaking my whole body, every jump, every door and wall she destroyed that was in the way, until eventually, a new set of sounds kicked in, replacing the alarms of our prison. Her feet were no longer running on the metal and concrete that was the lab's floor. Now...something was...cracking beneath her, again, and again. Another sound...air? How? This sounded stronger, louder.

My curiosity made me move inside her hand, her fist was close enough to prevent me from falling, but the gaps in between her fingers let enough room for me to have a glimpse of the exterior. And it was surprising.

Surrounded by nature, green that I used to only see on pictures, now displaying into an infinite horizon...A dark sky, full of lights, and a glowing giant circle stealing the spotlight.

The space seemed limitless, like if there was plenty of room for us to travel, to discover...And the small amounts of fresh air that I could get were different in smell to the air I had inside the laboratory. I couldn't even describe the different pleasant smells that I was sensing. I just knew I wanted more. All I've ever knew for 15 years were white walls, a poster, and the same cruel hands that exposed me to all types of pain until my body couldn't handle more. I liked this.

"Stay still, I need to find a place...I don't want to crush you by accident." She said softly, still moving like crazy, but her grip got tighter so I could not move that much now, and my small view of the world was gone. Maybe I was in the darkness of her closed hand, but this time, it was safe, warm...a place to rest, and stop pushing my body off it's limits. It was hard to focus on rest when I finally had the idea of being...outside, free.

"Hungry..." I replied, feeling my eyes heavy, I was running out of energy. But I believed she had that covered, as soon as the last thing I heard before closing my eyes was . . .

"I will take care of it."

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 3 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Here’s chapter 3!  I hope you enjoy it!

Title: Succession Chapter 3

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader

Rating: PG-13 for language and possible kidnapping trigger warning (this is a slow burn, but it will get sexy and spicy later on)

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary.  While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Notes: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter 3

“Stop squirming!” Heisenberg growled as you kicked your legs and bucked your body.  Uttering a curse under his breath, he slung his hammer to the ground, whirled your body to face him, and threw you over his shoulder, picking up the hammer and dragging it in the snow.

You did not know where he was taking you.  It felt as if he had been carrying you for a good fifteen minutes.  The scenery going by was the same as what was at the crash site: nothing but snow and dead trees.  You pushed your hands to his back and tried to look around desperately for another person to call for help.  Unable to find any source of assistance, you did the only thing you could...kick your legs and beat your fists against his back.

“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?” Heisenberg laughed, his grip on your legs tightening.  His voice held such confidence and self-assurance that you wanted to slap the fuck out of him.

You looked down to the ground and noticed that the snow and dirt gave way to cobblestones.  Looking around, you saw that he was walking across a bridge.  To your left were mountains with a cascading waterfall.  The wind caught sprays of mist and you felt the ice cold stinging your face.  

“Home sweet home, pussycat!” Heisenberg bellowed.  You heard the opening of a gate as you tried to turn around to see where he was taking you.  

“Put me down!” you shrieked, swinging your leg forward and kicking him square in the stomach.  A loud oomph rushed from his mouth and he lurched forward, dropping you forcefully on your ass.  Pain shot up your body.  You squirmed and cursed as you grabbed your butt, rubbing the pained area.

“Come on,” Heisenberg said, grabbing your arm and pulling you up, “you can’t just lie on the ground all day!”  

You tried to dig your heels into the ground to stop him when you looked up and saw the building before you.  A bleak factory with tall smoke stacks stood like a monstrosity with the snowy mountains in the background.  An array of scrap metal littered the grounds around the building.  Heisenberg pulled you towards a pair of sliding doors in the front.

Despite the fact that you and Heisenberg had yet to reach the building, the doors opened on their own.  The distant sounds of chains and metal could be heard deep inside of the factory and you wondered if there were others working.  Maybe someone would feel sympathy towards you and help you escape or call for help.  He pulled you over the threshold and into his factory.

With a sudden quickness, you jerked away from his grasp and tried to make a break for the doors.  They swiftly shut and trapped you inside.  You looked around wildly as Heisenberg laughed before you, knowing that you were stuck.  Not one to give up so easily, you spotted stairs going down to the lower level and you ran towards them.

“Ugh...I don’t have time for this shit!!” you heard Heisenberg yell behind you, but you were already halfway down the stairs and rushing to get as much distance between you and him as you could.

Your adrenaline was pumping as you turned a corner and ran down a dark hallway.  You couldn’t hear the man behind you, which had you hoping that you were able to hide from him and come out once the coast was clear.

The steel stairs and walkways were a labyrinth as you looked for an open door that led to an empty room.  There had to be someone in this place that you could convince to help you.  Hell, you were so close to becoming three million dollars richer...if they helped you, you could reward them handsomely.  But not before having this psychopath Heisenberg brought up on kidnapping charges.  

“Pussycat…” you heard in a sing-song voice coming around the corner, “...please come out and play…”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you ran down the hallway towards a door.  You opened the door and before you stood a metal walkway suspended in the air.  It went on for several feet before stopping at another closed door.  Slowly shutting the door behind you, you turned and started running across, your hands on the railings.  

Movement along with the sounds of cogs turning and chains rattling brought your attention to your left.  Your feet came to a halt and your eyes widened.  

Were those...bodies?

Lifeless bodies were hanging from a large metal wheel, turning around and around.  More bodies hung suspended from hooks as they moved along on an assembly line...lines that went up and down, right and left.  There had to be hundreds of bodies in this place.

“Jesus Christ!” you murmured, your hands gripping the railing.

“How do you like my army?”

Your head whipped around to find Heisenberg slamming the door shut behind him, slowly making his way towards you.  “Ah, yes...hundreds of men...waiting to become unbeatable, glorious works of art…”

“What the fuck is this place??” you spat at him, walking backwards.

Heisenberg looked at the bodies, his gloved hand sliding across the railing as he walked closer to you.  “You have no idea where you are, darling…” he responded, turning his attention to you, “...this place...well, perhaps death would have been better for you…”

“Stay away from me,” you muttered, turning around and running as fast as you could towards the door on the other side of the walkway.  You could hear the steady stomp of Heisenberg’s boots as he got closer and closer.  Gripping the door handle, you pulled as hard as you could, but the door did not budge.  You cursed and yelled, pulling and turning the handle.

Heisenberg’s arms went around your body and pulled you away from the door.  You kicked and screamed, struggling to get away.

“You are becoming quite a pain in my ass!” Heisenberg bellowed, pulling you back across the walkway, “should I have left you shivering in the snow, fresh meat for the lycans?”

“Let go of me!!” you screamed.  The two of you were back at the first door as he hauled you against his side, grunting as he carried you down a different corridor.  Your fingers tried to grip at his arm, pulling at his trenchcoat.  You swung your arms up towards his head, but he was quick to dodge your limbs.

He came up to a door and kicked it open, slinging your body inside.  You fell to the floor and rolled into the room.  “Sit tight, doll face,” Heisenberg grinned, “I’ll check in on you soon…”  And before you could get to your feet and run towards him, he closed and locked the door.

“Let me out!” you screamed as you banged your fists on the door.  You were met with silence and with a huff, you turned around.  The room wasn’t large.  A cot was against the wall.  There was a stall on the other side with a toilet.  Two metal chairs sat side by side against the wall to your left.  To your right was a metal sink.  You went to the sink and turned on the water.  Upon close inspection, it seemed clear and clean.  Leaning down, you gulped mouthfuls of water.  You didn’t realize until that moment just how thirsty you were.

You stood and gasped for air.  What the fuck is going on, you thought to yourself.  Your plane crashed, you were chased by werewolf-like men and a mutant hunchback, and now you were locked away in a factory by some hammer wielding psychopath.  Would you ever be able to escape?  If anyone located the crash and saw that there were no survivors, would they just suspect that you were one of those dead and not come looking for you?

For the first time since the crash, you allowed the weight of the world to flow over you.  And as you laid down on the cot, you finally allowed yourself to break down into quiet sobs.

*

The sudden opening of the metal door woke you and made you sit up straight on the cot.  Your heartbeat instantly accelerated as you looked and saw Heisenberg standing in the doorway with a tray of food in his hand.

“Rise and shine, darling!” Heisenberg greeted in a jovial tone.  He walked over to the sink and rested the tray across it, turning his attention away from you.  Standing from the cot, you watched as he took the empty glass from the tray and filled it with water from the tap.

Without thinking, you made a break for the open door.  Your focus was on escape and you didn’t notice when Heisenberg’s left hand made a twisting motion, the cot flipping onto its side, and swinging around the room, sliding between you and the door.  You yelped and halted your retreat so as not to run straight into the bed.  Your eyes flew between the cot and Heisenberg, not able to believe what you just saw.

“Don’t you think for one second you can stop running and just sit the fuck down?!” he growled as he turned to face you, “here I am, bringing you food, making sure you are well taken care of, and you can’t rest for two seconds!!”

“How did you do that??” you asked.  Heisenberg shut the door and uprighted the cot, pulling it back to where it was.

“Magic,” he muttered under his breath, “seriously...Y/N, is it?  I’m sure you’re starving.  Just sit and eat something…”  He picked up the tray and placed it on the cot, patting the mattress beside it.  He walked past you towards one of the chairs and sat down.  You moved in time with him, moving closer to the food...but only in order to keep space between the two of you.

The smell of the stew hit your nostrils and your stomach growled loudly.  It did smell nice and you had to admit that you were incredibly hungry.  You begrudgingly moved to the bed, sat down, and brought the tray to your lap.  You picked up the spoon and dug in.

As you ate, your eyes moved from the bowl of stew to Heisenberg and back again.  You watched as he reached into the inner pocket of his trenchcoat, pulled out a cigar, and lit it with a lighter he took from another pocket in the coat.  He puffed on the cigar, leaning his head back and expelling a cloud of smoke up in the air.  The aroma wafted through the room.  

You didn’t say anything, but you always thought the smell of cigar smoke was intoxicating.

Heisenberg rested his arm across the other chair next to him and lifted his leg, putting his foot to rest on the opposite knee.  His eyes never left yours.

As you ate quietly, you took in your captor.  His boots, his clothing, the hat, and the sunglasses.  Gloves covered his hands.  His hair was long, coming to rest at chin level.  His short beard was the same shade as his hair, brown with hints of gray peppered in between.  If he hadn’t kidnapped you from the wreckage of the plane, you might have found him attractive.

Once you finished eating, you placed the tray on the cot next to you and finished your glass of water.

“How was it?” Heisenberg asked, motioning to the tray with his cigar.

“Good…” you mumbled, “...why am I here?  And how did you move this cot??  What the fuck is going on??”

Heisenberg puffed on his cigar again before standing from the chair and walking towards you.  “All will be revealed in due time.”  He took your arm in his free hand and pulled you from the bed and towards the door.

“Now where are we going?!?!” you asked, feelings of fear, dread, and disbelief surging through you once again.

“You have proven you can’t be trusted on your own,” Heisenberg said, “you’re staying in my living quarters with me…”

[janshu]

In The Shallows...Part One.

Summary: @hanji-is-life more merman!Bakugo and so I shall provide! I was hoping to get this out much earlier, back in may because MerMay but better late than never I suppose! You, a marine biologist, take a scuba dive to see the local fauna off coast and you find more than you ever could've bargained for...

Word Count: 1.5.

Warnings: None but minor curses, mentions of the ocean, an illusion of drowning. Viewer discretion is advised at least.

How did you manage this?

You hadn't walked on the beach, much less roll around in the coarse substance. So how did it manage to get into your pockets? This was a new jacket so how?

A short walk from the parking garage to the pier was all it was, no beach travel involved yet it had wormed its way into your pockets, in between your toes and nearly everywhere else. 

Your team chuckles at your discomfort finding your squirming the funniest thing on the planet as they loaded up the sizable vessel for the day on the water. For the past several weeks you had been cooped up in a lab studying the samples others brought to you but now you were given the green light to head out into the field yourself. Your goal for the day was to gather samples, check on the status of the coral nursery, and a checklist of other menial tasks. A full plate all things considered, much better than getting a migraine staring through a microscope at sea water until you either give up or get sent home. 

Waves battered against the hull of the boat while you and your fellow colleagues suit up in scuba gear. The goal wasn't to go to the bottom of the ocean, far from it, fifteen meters was the maximum for today so simple snorkeling hear wouldn't cut it. You didn't get your diving certifications to be stuck in a lab. The salt spray refreshing against your skin for the few seconds it was vulnerable while you changed from your outfit into the designated wetsuit. Not the full suit that covered your body from head-to-toe, just a body one to keep your core warm when your swimsuit didn't offer much protection.

The boat came to a stop right around where the GPS locator dinged where the nursery site was and the captain gave everyone a thumbs up as you and your fellows attached their fins, tanks, SPG's and all the other necessary equipment. One-by-one each of them held their regulators to their mouths and fell back into the blue ocean below until it was your own, to which you received a wink instead while everything turned upside down.

Ten, twenty, thirty, a hundred. Regardless of how many dives you've had you'll never get over the beauty of the reefs. Each time serving something new, change was ever present in your line of work. Never seeing the same specimens twice to witnessing a rare species and everything in between. The sunshine overhead casting glittering ripples on the sandy floor, catching your eye on the schools of fish that swam by as their scales gleamed in different patterns. This was the closest feeling you had ever come to your childhood dream of becoming a mermaid. When you wished on your birthday candles and shooting stars to holding your breath underneath tub water in hopes gills would magically appear. That's what started this career. Maybe it was a long forgotten portion of your evolved brain from life's time in the ocean but you felt at home, a familiar sense of belonging that you didn't have on dry land. This was where you were meant to be but sadly your wishes had never come true and you were cursed to remain a land-dwelling mammal.

The beeping in your ears ripped you from your fantastical daydreams to remind you of the harsh reality. This is as close as you were going to get but that wasn't so bad, it was better having a little than nothing at all. Looking at the gauge meter it showed that you have roughly an hour left of oxygen which meant you had been in the water for an hour already. How time flies when you're having fun, absorbed in your daydreams, and checking on coral and taking samples.

"Hey, could we switch our tanks out without getting oxygen narcosis or are we screwed in that department?" Your voice came over the radio built in the full face masks everyone in the diving team used no doubt scaring those who were lost in thought as you just were. 

"Y/N...do you really want to stay out here longer? Shitting Christ, you should be glad you're out here in the first place!" The captain's voice responded from the safety of the boat. "Now get your asses back up here n' we'll head on ba-...what was that?"

"What was what?" 

A chorus of responses chimed in immediately after, some crackling from the distance they were from the source and others sounding as if they were a foot away.

"Nothing, never mind, must've been a Manta Ray. Forget about it. Just get your shit and come back, I'm gettin' hungry and its close to lunchtime so hurry up." The static cut off as he put down the radio and looked out into the churning ocean. The massive shadow he had just seen passing by the boat putting him on alert, he didn't want to witness any reef shark's feeding frenzy.

"We can come back tomorrow, Y/N. Nothing's stopping us from that, right?" Another voice, one of your favorite colleagues suggested. That was right, you were there and your boss hadn't explicitly said that this was a one time thing. Another visit would do some good to see if the biometrics have changed in a span of twenty-four hours.

"Alright, okay, we'll come back later for a differential test."

The group had a collective sigh of relief. You were notorious for loving the ocean to such a degree you'd do anything to stay in a while longer, they were all content with leaving now and coming back later if it meant they wouldn't see your sad pouting all the way back to the van. Picking up their equipment and vials everyone began swimming back to the boat now most of them making small talk and discussing their plans for the weekend while you were once again lost in your thoughts.

Something impossibly dark darted through your vision. Blocking out the beautiful view of the turquoise water and colorful life like an angry, ominous storm cloud. A blanket of blindness shrouding all light for a moment but it felt like an eternity as dread sunk in the pit of your stomach, anchoring you to the spot. The warm water now felt cold, goosebumps running up your bare arms and thighs like pinpricks. The heart that had been so calm in the home of your ribcage now pushing adrenaline through your bloodstream, adjusting to a state you weren't acting on. Fear. That wasn't a Manta Ray or a comically large Stingray that was something else entirely. A predator that crashed against the fragile cage of safety, security and believing you were untouchable in shallow depths.

You were reminded of the psychologically scarring and irrational fear of one's ankles being grabbed particularly in the ocean by a shark, the part of your lizard brain firing signals all across your synapses to detach the leg. If only. A fair trade, being left alone at the price of a limb but unfortunately humans couldn't detach or regrow whatever they lost.

That fear was horrifically evoked when something far more firm than a limp leaf of seaweed wrapped around your ankle. Slimey, cold as death and tipped with five sharp points. Reminiscent of a hand, a very large hand. Expanding across your bare skin like a calloused cuff that threatened to break the skin, sink into the meat and tear your foot off entirely. However, that didn't seem to be happening. No cloud of your own blood instead the safety of the boat got further and further away, turning into a speck barely seen in the shallow water.

"Wait, wait no! What the fuck?! Let go! What the hell?" When your brain managed to get over its fear and shock of the situation your fight-or-flight instincts kicked into high gear and your body began to thrash around against the hold. If it was a shark hitting it in the snout and eyes was imperative to get it to release but what if it wasn't? What else could possibly have your leg in its grip with a goal of pulling you away from the boat?

A flurry of indistinguishable voices and noises came over the radio. From yelps, screams and to curses but the thudding in your ears and the furious splashes drowned them all out, everything became topsy turvy, what was the bottom of the ocean and what was the surface became an abstract concept. The primal urge to escape was ripped away when the respirator giving you oxygen was unceremoniously and harshly ripped from your mouth, the hand that had done it orange and black. The water was salty, like you had dumped an entire container of table salt into your mouth and you washed it down with a sip of water. It was invasive, slipping down your throat into your lungs as they tried to gulp air instead. The more you inhaled the harder it was to move. Your limbs becoming as heavy as cement bricks. Unconsciousness began to consume everything, your body down to your mind. The eerie sensation of falling was the last thing before everything faded to black...

[paellaplease]

Marcid for Revali x Reader maybe? QwQ

18. marcid - incredibly exhausted

pairing: revali x reader

summary:  you find a place to hide from the wind blight, but this quiet peace can only last for so long.

   By some miracle, you dragged the ancient entrance shut with nothing but raw power and adrenaline. Broken arm painfully throbbing in the makeshift sling of your ripped jacket, there’s an air of finality when you hear the metal wall slam down, killing the lights and plunging you and Revali into near darkness. 

“Let’s lie you down,” you say to no immediate reply. In the emptiness of Vah Medoh’s last safe chamber, his silence was unnerving.

“Catching your breath? That’s a good idea, take it easy please.” Talking to yourself wasn’t very effective in fending off the panic either. And the smell of burnt feathers was quickly overtaking everything else. 

Carefully, you unhooked the Rito’s wing from around your shoulder, lowering him gently to the ground. Propping his back up against one of the walls, you failed to ignore the groan of pain that escaped his lips. 

To your horror, his tired eyes began to close. “Sorry! I’m sorry, please stay awake.”

Knees buckling from the stress, you sank to the spot next to him, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. Reaching out through the darkness, your hand found the buckle of his armor. With some fiddling the straps loosened, heavy steel dropping to the floor. Like a drowning man, Revali took a deep breath of air, the wheeze and crackle that followed bringing you close to tears. 

“Just a little longer. Hylia. You hit your head real bad up there so you can’t fall asleep until we get to safety.” 

Even as you placed a hand to his abdomen, deep down you knew that running a quick check up would do nothing but bring you more sadness. You were out of bandages and potions. You couldn’t even see him properly. What good would fatal diagnosis do?

The Blight in its rage had torn a large gash over his stomach, cowardly disappearing in a vortex of wind to tend to its own wounds. Desperate to stop the bleeding, you had ripped the Champion’s scarf from around his neck, using it as a makeshift bandage in an attempt to stop the rush of blood that leaked from under his armor. 

Probing the site of his injury, you felt your fingers come away damp with blood, dashing the last pieces of hope that you’d struggled to protect. A small sob left your lips. Oh no, please no— 

A trembling wing was pressed over your hand, wrapping around your palm and squeezing it reassuringly. 

Looking up, you can barely make out the green of Revali’s eyes in the low light. His voice came out quiet and raspy, slow as he teetered on the edge of unconsciousness. “How does it look?”

You shook your head, sobering up for his sake. “Not great, but don’t worry. We’re going to find a way out of here. Mipha or whatever healer is closest is going to patch you up. It’s going to be okay— you’re going to be okay.” 

Revali huffed out a small laugh. It was soft and tired, but you can still trace the endearing upturn of his beak in the darkness. “When you put it that way, it’s hard to argue the contrary.” 

The Rito coughed again, sagging to the side. You had to pull him closer, shivers racking through his body with burnt feathers fluffing up in an attempt to stay warm. 

At some point you felt the heavy weight of his gaze piercing into you, raising the hairs at the back of your neck. You looked at Revali questioningly, barely seeing him narrow his eyes at the sight of your injured arm. 

“Uh...this?” You sent him a sunny placating grin as a reflex, useless as it was in the dark. 

“Yes, that.” 

You pursed your lips, shrugging as you were already past the point of caring for your own well-being. Sensing this, the Rito was less than enthused. “You were out cold but that Blight’s laser was going to hit us…” His body was tensing again, and so you fought your embarrassment to tell the truth. “I deflected it.”

“How?”

“With...my sword?” Rest in pieces. It was a precious gift from one of the best sword wielders among the Champions. “Please don’t tell Urbosa! I’ll make you salmon meuniere for the rest of the week.”

Revali was quiet again, and you could practically feel his trademark stare of Judgement burning into your cheek. With an exhausted sigh, he closed his eyes and rested against your chest. “I can’t believe you. Beautiful, reckless dumbass...” 

You mocked a gasp. “Excuse me, a reckless dumbass that saved us both from getting sauteed on the rooftop. And don’t prefix your insult with a compliment, I’ll get confused.”  

Much to your disbelief Revali chuckled, shifting in your hold to sit up higher. You turned your head to tell him off, out of concern that he was going to disturb his wounds, only for you to fall silent when you felt his forehead brush your cheek. 

The silent show of affection brought the reality of everything crashing back onto you. You were still trapped in the Divine Beast, hundreds of metres above ground. There was no way to call for help, no supplies left but the clothes on your backs. And the person you cared for the most was bleeding out in your arms. 

Your head dipped, pressing back against Revali’s face. Vaguely you could feel him whispering to you in the darkness. His wing reached up to wipe away the tears from your cheeks, and only then did you realise you were crying. 

“You did well.” 

Those words were said with such raw conviction, you almost mistook it to be love. 

“I had to shut down Vah Medoh at the control terminal,” you shakily admit, smoothing a hand over the back of his head. Some of the braids he had worked so hard to maintain had come undone. Your fingers got to work, gently untangling the strands. 

“I know,” his voice was quieter now. “Medoh asked me the same thing whilst I was in the air. I’m glad you heard the call too.” 

The fight was slowly leaving him, his soul barely tethered to your own as you continued to steadfastly linger in this world. There wasn’t much time left. Eventually Malice would weave into the mainframe and find the back up generators at the core. 

Eventually the emergency lights would ignite, bathing the room in red and leaving not a shadow left to hide in. 

Eventually the Divine Beast Vah Medoh would awaken, undoing the security override on the door and sending you both to the inevitable.

But that would be later, and not yet now. 

“Revali?”

“Yes?”

“Can we stay like this for a little longer?”

You could feel his smile against your cheek. “For you, I would do anything.” 

[wilmakins]

“This is, by some distance, the stupidest plan you’ve ever talked me into,” Steve muttered, so clearly not talking into the phone he had held to his face. Tony went to point out how ridiculous that statement was - that he had talked Steve into hundreds of plans that were quite obviously more stupid than this…

But then he realised that it wouldn’t really help his case. 

“Don’t suppose you can hear anything, can you?” He said instead, fighting the temptation to glance over his shoulder at the uniformed officers milling around the crime scene. They were too far away for Tony to even make out the murmur of conversation - but the serum amplified Steve’s hearing enough that it wasn’t a completely ridiculous question.

“Only that they’ve said ‘unidentified’ a few times now,” Steve sighed. “So, either they don’t know whose body that is, or there’s someone else involved.”

Tony huffed out a breath. Well, that was just great.

He was just beginning to gather all the problems they had into one list, when he was shocked out of his train of thought by a shout from a few feet behind them.

“Hey!”

Tony felt his spine jar straight, a cold burst of adrenaline flooding through his veins and gathering in his chest. He turned towards Steve, purely so he could hide more of his face in the hood of his coat (that Steve had spent all morning teasing him over…). Their various contingency escape plans popped up in his head, just as Steve piped up.

“Yes, officer?”

“You’re gonna have to move back!” The cop bellowed from where he was, clearly more interested in the crime scene behind him than the straggle of rubberneckers by the edge of the road. “In fact, all of you,” and he raised his voice, for the benefit of the people who had stayed with their vehicles, “we’re gonna need you to report to the detectives over there by the van - come on, this is a crime scene!”

Steve flashed his customer services smile, finally giving up on his pantomime phone call and sliding his cell back into the pocket of his coat. 

Tony let go of a sigh of relief, shaking the tension out of his shoulders before he turned to Steve.

“See, told you the coat would be useful,” he commented, even though he had no idea if the officer had gotten close enough to recognise him anyway.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t useful,” Steve reminded him. “I said it was ugly.” 

Tony huffed a begrudging laugh, as they finally turned to start a very slow walk away from the crash site. 

“You got any plans for getting out of this one, then?” Steve asked, scanning the other ‘witnesses’ and police officers in front of them. 

“Oh, a few,” Tony replied automatically.

“Any that aren’t going to get us arrested, captured or killed?” Steve clarified, casually. Tony bit his bottom lip.

“…Well, one,” he acknowledged, awkwardly. “…But I’m not sure you’re going to like it.”

[hailbop1701]

ReaperXFem!Reader

Doom: To Hell And Back

Chapter 9: Siberia

Guys this is it! The final official chapter! The journey has been amazing so far and I am truly lucky to have all of you go through it with me! But we're not done yet! There is so much in store for John and Crow! Stay tuned! (As usual no beta)

-H❤🖖

The sound of distant gunfire pulled you from the dark, a fire burned at your back. A hiss of pain escaped your lips, “I hope I never have to do that again,” your voice came out raspy, your mouth dry as the desert above you. Making the necessary checks, nothing seemed too bad, well besides the giant burn on your back. Finding purchase you pushed yourself off of the ground, wincing at all the aches and pains. Climbing to your feet, you stumble into the corridor wall. The gunfire continued making you look for your weapon, groaning in frustration you saw it amongst the debris warped and battered. 

You pulled your sidearm from its holster; using the wall as a crutch you made your way in the direction of the gunfire. The ARK chamber. 

The trek took longer than it should have; panting you gripped the edge of the stone doorway that led into the ARK. “Hello, Crow,” a voice growled from behind you, a large hand landed on your shoulder and squeezed. Yelping in pain you were swiveled around so you were facing Sarge, his eyes seemed to glow unnaturally. He grinned like a predator, the grip on your shoulder getting tighter. “Murderous son of a-” 

And before you knew what was happening you were flying through the air. You landed with a strangled cry, crashing into an abandoned security desk. Crumpling to the ground you gasped out, pain scorched through your body like a wildfire. Gingerly you lifted your arm to your chest, ‘broken’ you grumbled. Sarge was on you again, he reached down with a sadistic smile and wrapped a meaty hand around your throat. The air entering your body suddenly stopped as he lifted you off of the ground. Your heart pounded in your ears while your head throbbed and bled freely; shifting your eyes you saw them and worry coursed through you. 

Sam and Duke skidded to a halt by the entrance, clawing at Sarge’s hand you kick your feet out bracing them against his chest trying desperately to get out of his grasp. It didn’t phase him in the slightest. Sam held Duke back from raising his gun, “You might hit (Y/N),” she said worriedly.

 Sarge turned, your body struggling in grasp. “Duke, fall in! We got shit to do!” Sarge barked and Duke scowled stepping in front of Sam. “With all due respect Sarge but fuck you,” he hissed raising his gun. Sarge chuckled and held you up like a dying shield; Duke wavered uncertainly. 

“Go!” you managed to gasp out pleadingly. “Da’mit Duke, go” you gurgled vision dimming at the lack of oxygen. Duke cursed and dragged Sam back out the ARK chamber door. Sarge chuckled darkly glancing at the quarantine timer, “I’ll find them soon,” he promised. You hissed, one of your hands falling limply to your side as your struggling stopped. Sarge set down his rather large gun, sniffing the air. He brought his empty hand to your hair and petted you softly. 

“Well, that’s new,” he purred, sniffing again. His grip on your neck loosened slightly allowing a minuscule amount of air back into your lungs. ‘I’ll take whatever I can get,’ you thought numbly. Sarge lowered you to the floor but kept his hold on your throat, 

“I just might keep you alive,” he purred stroking your cheek. Wrinkling your nose at the promises in his words you glare at him, 

“Sorry, Sarge but I’m just not that into you,” you growled your hand brushing over the knife on your hip. Sarge just chuckled removing his hand from your throat so he could grip your chin, his hold caused your cheeks to puff into a pout. 

“I would gladly take you here and now,” his chest rumbled in an animalistic growl. His words made a chill travel up and down your spine, “Here’s an idea, how about you go fuck yourself,” you snarled. Swiftly pulled the knife out of its sheath you drive it into the junction between Sarge’s shoulder and neck. 

The man howled in pain instantly letting you go. Baring his teeth Sarge swung; you flew through the air into the security desk again officially shattering the glass and plastic. A newfound pain blossomed over your body, “I really have to learn not to agitate things that are infected with C24,” you cried letting your head drop with a dull thud. Your hands drifted to your stomach a large shard of glass was sticking out of your abdomen. 

Sarge loomed over you looking mildly disappointed as if he accidentally broke his new toy. “Damn,” he grumbled before moving away to let you bleed out. What’s left of the adrenaline that had been pouring through you all night had finally drained away. Through the pain, you started to feel cold and numb, ‘that’s not good,’ you thought weakly. The sound of talking and shouting pulled you back from submerging into the dark, “She’s dead Reaper,” 

A howl of rage echoed across the room and the sound of fighting. Flesh punching flesh and the boom of what had to be Sarge’s “BFG,” 

“(Y/N), oh my God!” Sam flew to your side ducking low before falling to her knees beside you. Duke ran to your other side and rested a friendly hand on your forehead. You cried out when Sam gently pressed her hands around the glass, “It’s okay, you’ll be okay!” Sam sobbed. 

She took away her hands and reached into her pocket fumbling with the tiny vial. “Sam,” Duke warned uneasily as he held one of your hands. Sam set the vial down so she could fumble through your pockets looking for a spare syringe. Finding one in your hip pouch, Sam snatched the vial up off the ground. 

“Pull the glass out,” Sam whispered to Duke as she injected C24 into your neck. You whimpered when Duke carefully pulled the shard of glass from your abdomen, “You’ll be alright baby doll,” he murmured smoothing down your hair while placing his other hand over his sidearm. The fighting grew more intense making both Sam and Duke duck and bend over you like two concerned parents. You looked at them blearily a few tears escaping your eyes, your vision getting darker and darker by the second. “You’ll be okay,” Sam soothed placing her hand over Dukes, the sound of ARK activating in the background made them peer over the broken security desk. “(Y/N)!” John’s voice echoed through your head as you faded away. 

 Whispers and warmth greeted you when you swam back to the surface of consciousness again. For the millionth time that night. Everything ached like growing pains but you no longer felt intense pain. Opening your eyes took some effort but when you did you immediately regretted it, “Oh what the fuck,” you groaned scrunching up your nose in distaste. You snapped your eyes closed again hoping to keep the bright lights at bay. 

The whispers turned into amused chuckles, “Welcome back to the land of the living,” Duke said somewhere to your left. “Why is it so damn bright?” you hissed turning your head away into a rough vest. That’s when you realized, arms held onto you, and the warmth that you were thoroughly enjoying belonged to someone. Someone who smelt rather nice, opening up your eyes again, you look up. John looked down at you with his dark hazel eyes, 

“I’m still trying to get used to it,” he chuckled, he smiled down at you crookedly. You groaned a little, “Right, I’m superhuman now,” 

 Sam peered over at you with her own grin, “I’m just glad you’re not insane and trying to eat people,” she teased. You snort and gave her a thumbs-up, “I aim to please,”  

John looked like he was struggling with something and kept sniffing the area near your hair. “Do I smell that bad?” you asked jokingly. 

Duke snorted, “I think we all smell damn bad,” he grumbled sniffing his pits with a grimace. John’s quiet laughter shook you gently, “No you don’t smell bad,” he whispered to you. He looked away as the elevator became a little tense. Sam snickered, “So uh how did all this spider webbing get into your hair?” she asked picking a few more wisps from your head. 

You shudder, “Spiders, never again. I officially have a phobia,” you muttered resting your head against John’s shoulder in defeat. The elevator slowed to a stop and dinged; the doors opened revealing a platoon’s worth of soldiers. They stood there, weapons aimed, red dot sites dancing over you and the others. Duke and Sam put up their hands as John led them onto the tarmac,

“Stand down!” a voice shouted and the red dots disappeared. A familiar man pushed through the crowd, “Crow!” he shouted jogging over to the elevator entrance. You gripped John’s vest and whipped your head around, “Hunter!” the relief in your voice was evident. You were so happy to see your commanding officer that you didn’t notice John stiffen. His arms tightened around you as Gunnery Sergeant Edward Cayden approached. 

“Ed, Siberia,” you hissed making eye contact with him. Your CO stiffened upon hearing the code word; to everyone on your team it meant danger, get out now. His eyes went from concern to serious, nodding once Hunter led your small group to a waiting chopper. Everyone from RRTS unit 4 was there, they all looked relieved to see that you were alright. Big brothers and crazy uncles the lot of them. Hunter spoke lowly into the team’s comm, “Siberia,” 

They all stiffened before they wrapped the survivors up in a protective bubble. “Icarus, Manny, why don’t you take over for our pilots,” Hunter suggested casually. Both men broke off from the group swiftly and opened the front cab of the helo, the pilots protested but did as they were told anyway. Hunter activated the main door and watched as everyone piled in; one of the boys offered to take you but John simply ignored him and stepped up into the transport with little difficulty. 

“Leave them be Rust,” Hunter barked when the man began to protest. You gave your team a reassuring smile hoping to put everyone at ease. Sam took the seat next to when John set you down and buckled you in. She took your hand, eyes flitting from face to face, “It’s okay,” you whispered to her but made sure John and Duke heard you as well. A solid fifteen minutes after takeoff Hunter crouched in front of your lips pressed tightly together. 

“What do you need kid?” he whispered, no one spoke as they watched you. Taking a deep breath you looked your friend dead in the eye, “To disappear,” 

The men looked at each other and nodded, “I can’t ask any of you-” you hurried over your words but your unit already began making preparations. They stripped their comms and pulled apart their weapons. Rust moved over to a panel in the floor and yanked it up revealing a mass of wires and circuits, he fiddled for a moment before yanking out a few bits of tech. The mass of wires sparked for a moment and settled again. 

“Tracker is offline, we’re ghosts for a little while,” he said and Hunter nodded once. “Icarus, we need to disappear,” he pounded on the cockpit door. A double-tap of understanding echoed back. He looked back at you and the shocked faces of your companions, “Time to become ghosts!” he cheered enthusiastically. 

“Hunt-” you protested and the men started shouting at you to shut up; smirking you looked down at your feet. Hunter stopped in front of you while the tech of your ragtag team tossed the trackers out the partially opened door. “You’re family (Y/N) and if you of all people invoked Siberia then-” he looked around and the men began whooping in agreement, “Then something big went down and we need to get you out of the fire,” 

“What happened sis?” the tech affectionately named I.T. asked. Everyone quieted down; you looked over at John biting your lip. He inclined his head a fraction in a silent ‘Do you trust them?’ looking at every member of your team you let your eyes flit back to him with and nodded. The silent conversation only lasted seconds but it spoke volumes. He reached down squeezing your hand, ‘I trust you,’ 

Taking a deep shuddering breath you turned your attention to your captive audience, 

 “It all started with a girl named Lucy…” 

Tags:

@thottiewithashotgun

@lauraaan182

@writerdee1701

@dw-writes

@marvelouslytrekking

@stileslover13-blog

[zecretsanta]

FIC:

To: @n-emone

From: @claire-folley

Happy Holidays! I saw Post ZTD Hurt/Comfort Phi & Sigma on your prompt list and I decided to go for it! I haven’t written fanfiction in years, let alone ZE fics (idk how I made it to 8k) so I’m sorry if they’re a little bit OOC,,, Hope you enjoy it nonetheless! I’ll be uploading it to AO3 as well after I give it an actual title so if you’d like keep an eye out for it!

It started with a scream.

Junpei whipped his head around to the source of the sound, where Phi was. Or where she used to be. Where she should have been.

The mission hadn’t gone to plan. Crash Keys had received a tip about an old building on the edge of Khabarovsk being used by Russian government officials to store information on criminals that could pose a threat to the country, and could potentially have files on ones with religious motives. Akane, Phi, and Junpei had all decided to infiltrate the site themselves since Junpei and Phi were a little familiar with reading Russian and Akane’s connection with her brother was strong enough that it was fastest for her to transmit anything they found to Aoi. 

The building may have been old but it certainly wasn’t abandoned, being in a group of three would make moving around discretely a difficult task, so the three of them decided to split up, all of them had coms so communication would be possible and. Instead of simply sneaking in, obtaining any documents they could that could contain information on the Religious Fanatic’s identity, and get out as fast as they could; Junpei had accidentally tripped one of the security alarms while he, Phi, and Akane were separated. When the alarm went off all three switched immediately to Plan B, to get out as fast as possible with what they had and meet up at a different location to figure out what went wrong and what to do next. Junpei had been up on the seventh floor at the time, Phi on the sixth, and Akane on the third, and since all of the elevators had been disabled with the alarm, all three had to rely on the only emergency staircase in the building. Akane had been able to make it out okay, but unfortunately security officers had blocked the stairs on the fourth floor, forcing Junpei and Phi to figure out another way out. The two had met up on floor 5 to discuss a possible plan to distract the guards for just long enough allowing them to escape.

“I really hope this works, it would be better if we had a floor plan for this damn place.”

“While I can’t deny that would help, we’re stuck working with what we have, and what is that?”

“We both have guns for last ditch efforts and worst case scenarios, our coms, the morphogenic field, the thumb drives with what information we were able to get…”

“And not much else, so we should get out of here as soon as we can because they’ve more than likely figured out someone is here.”

“Right.”

“I let Aoi know what’s going on, he told me to stay within the com’s range until you two are out so I can keep him updated or if you need me to go back inside to help.”

“I hope we won’t need that Kanny, but it’s appreciated.”

Little did Junpei know he would be eating his words very soon.

The two ran down hall after hall hoping for another emergency exit or a way to access the fourth floor somewhere as the footsteps of the guards grew louder and louder, eventually finding one thing they had been looking for. A balcony in need of repair set over a sad and unused atrium that was directly above a balcony on the fourth floor. Right when Junpei and Phi were preparing to figure out how to get themselves from the fifth floor balcony to the fourth floor balcony through a gap in an old, worn down, guardrail, they heard the sounds of footsteps stopping and guns being pulled and set to be fired.

Immediately the pair turned around and put their hands where their own guns were concealed, one of the three security guards shouted something in russian to the effect of “stop.” Ready to pull their own guns at any second, Junpei stepped in front of Phi, not because he was bigger, but he had been in similar situations back during his year of detective work and felt he was more prepared to be fired at than Phi was, even after the Nonary and Decision Games presented them both with grim situations. Phi in turn, took a couple steps back, careful not to push on the railing too much out of fear of breaking it if she did. Another command was shouted and they both regretted not learning more Russian dialect in case they didn’t have an interpreter with them, but it was too risky bringing an extra person without experience for a mission where none of them were planning on having small talk at any point with anyone other than themselves. As a result, they both stayed still, eyes still focused on the trio in front of them, blocking off their access back to the hallway. Junpei and Phi both noticed the man on the right slowly moving his own gun away from the two of them and down to the right, why he was doing that, they didn’t know.

Well didn’t know quite yet.

The second after the trigger was pulled there was a scream, Junpei whipped his head around to where Phi was supposed to be, realizing the guard had shot one of the bars keeping the railing attached to the balcony, causing it to break and fall, and subsequently making Phi lose her balance. Being treated with the sight of Phi falling from the fifth floor was more than enough for Junpei to decide to pull out his gun and shoot at the guards. Adrenaline pulsing through his brain made it hard for him to think about anything but getting out of there after finding where Phi had fallen and before he knew it, he was past the guards and on his way to the emergency exit as Akane’s voice came in over his com.

“Junpei? Phi? What happened? I heard a gunshot and a scream over both of your coms before one of them stopped working and more gunshots from the other, I don’t know who’s it was bu-”

“That was Phi’s com that probably broke, I fired the shots, I’m not sure which side of the building its on, but Phi fell from a fifth floor balcony in an atrium, I don’t know what kind of injuries she has but I’m running for the staircase right now so I can check on her.”

A moment of static filled Junpei’s ear as he swung open the door to the staircase.

“Sorry, I was trying to inform Aoi about what’s happening, You said it was an atrium right? I should be able to recognize it from the outside so I’ll see if I can get in from there.”

“Thanks.”

Junpei kept running down the stairs, thankfully without running into more security. For a supposed government facility, there was a small number of security guards, but it made Junpei’s trip down the stairs easier so he didn’t question it too much. Arriving on the ground floor, he made his way to the atrium as Akane’s voice again filled his ear.

“I’m with Phi, she’s unconscious, but she’s breathing. I think there’s a chance she fractured something when she landed, could you help me carry her when you get he-”

Akane wasn’t able to finish her sentence before Junpei burst into the room and over to where his fiancee and Phi were on the ground. Phi was in Akane’s arms and Junpei could see bruising on her face and neck, and her right shoulder noticeably dropped down low compared to her left. Running off for a second to find something that would work as a makeshift splint.

“Aoi is on his way with a car, we’ll still have to walk a bit because he doesn’t want to risk getting too close.”

“Okay, can I borrow your scarf for a second?”

“Oh! Yeah, here.”

They all sat there, not saying anything while Junpei tied a piece of metal around Phi’s back and arm, keeping her shoulder in place as he took Phi from Akane to let her stand up and start walking.

“You know where Aoi is going to be right?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know when he’s going to get there?”

“Not exactly, but he should arrive soon.”

“I sure hope he does.”

Both of them kept walking through a cold russian night, occasionally glancing over at Phi, though nothing was likely to change at this point. They both knew she needed urgent medical attention, brain injuries can do so much damage to a person but it’s impossible to tell how bad an injury is until the patient is scanned, wakes up, and evaluated, but all they could do is wait and hope she’s well enough to pull through while walking to the pick up spot. Aoi was there before they arrived and left the vehicle to help Junpei get Phi into the car safely, while Akane got in the front passenger’s seat. 

Akane had given her brother updates through the morphogenic field as the events played out, so none of them had anything to say or explain as he drove through the woods. The trip consisted of somber silence until Aoi spoke up.

“We’re 18 hours ahead of California right now, seeing as it’s currently 03:22 for us I’d say it’s about 21:22, or 9:22 at night for Diana and Sigma.”

Without saying it directly, they all knew someone was going to have to let the two of them know what happened to their daughter. With Sigma’s familiarity with the human body from his cloning work in a different timeline and Diana being an emergency room nurse, both of them wod figure out pretty quick how serious this was. What none of the people in the car knew however, was how they would handle being so far away from Phi while they knew she was hurt.

-

“Oh the phone! Who’s calling us right now? Is it Phi?”

“Just a second Diana, I’ll answer it.”

Sigma and Diana opted not to join Crash Keys on international missions, but rather help from California, that way they were far less likely to end up in a dangerous situation that could stir up unwanted memories of their deaths in other timelines or make them shift. Phi on the other hand decided immediately to join the international missions, so they haven’t had a whole lot of time to just be a family together with their daughter. Phi did contact them regularly however to give them updates on anything that happened or just to talk and get away from whatever stressful event she or her parents experienced recently. With the difference in time zones however this led to calls at all different times of the day for both parties.

The couple had been on their couch, close to finishing watching a movie together when the phone went off. Even though Sigma would likely come back with the phone, Diana still paused the screen and walked with him anyway. 

“Klim residence, what do you need?”

Sometimes Sigma would show more of his “old-man brain” as Phi liked to call it, through mannerisms like the way he answers the phone.

“Oh Aoi, why are you calling? Usually it’s Akane or Junpei for Crash Keys work.”

Diana couldn’t quite hear the other end of the phone, but the slight concern in Sigma’s voice was enough to make her a little nervous.

“Yeah Diana is here with me.”

Sigma looked towards Diana and explained Aoi was on the line and needed to tell both of them something, but asked for it to be over speaker phone so he wouldn’t have to repeat himself. While neither said anything about the uneasy feelings rising from their stomach, the looks they shot each other as Sigma pressed the button said more than enough.

“Okay, you can start now.”

“Alright, it’s very late for the four of us right now so I may sound a bit tired, but I needed to tell you as soon as possible what happened tonight.”

“What happened?” The uneasy feeling only grew stronger between the two.

“Tonight Akane, Junpei, and Phi tried to see if a government building in Russia had files that could help our search for the Religious Fanatic, but it didn’t quite go to plan and Phi was injured.”

“How… bad… is it?”

“Let me explain what happened. In order to check the files, they had to go inside. The building in question was rarely used for anything aside from storage and is old as fuck, but still had some security.”

“So they broke in.”

“Yeah that’s the first part. Its what happened later that you need to know about. After getting some of the files from their computers an emergency alarm was pulled and they had to leave as quick as they could, Akane got out okay but Junpei and Phi had more issues to deal with since they were on some of the higher floors and security blocked off the only set of stairs in the building.”

“That’s not safe if a fire breaks out though.” Diana was looking more nervous by the second. Aoi taking his sweet time explaining the whole thing rather than getting right to what happened gave her a feeling that it was because something really bad did happen and Aoi wasn’t ready to say exactly what yet. Sigma didn’t look as panicked as his partner, but the expression on his face could tell anyone who knew him that he was terrified.

“Like I said, old building, mostly used for storage, there’s not really enough people there at once for it to be an issue. But back to what I was saying, Junpei and Phi had to figure out how to get around them and that included having to make a noise to get the security guards out of the stairwell while they ran down the halls finding a different route to the stairs without the guards catching them.”

“Was this around when Phi got injured?”

“A bit before that actually, they couldn’t find another hall that led to the stairs, but got cornered on a balcony that was more than a little worse for wear by the security guards at gunpoint. I don’t have full details right now, but one of the guards managed to shoot the rail at just the right point to make it break and she fell off without a chance to grab onto something or balance herself.” Sigma and Diana both froze, looking at each other with dread in their eyes for what they had to ask next. Sigma swallowed and opened his mouth.

“You said earlier that Junpei and Phi were on the upper floors, how long was the fall?”

“The building was 8 floors including the ground floor, she fell from the fifth floor to the ground floor, but Junpei didn’t. She’s being checked out by one of the doctors we were able to get in contact with to see how serious it is.”

“Do you have anything you know for sure that you can tell us?”

“She more than likely shattered her right shoulder and fractured some ribs on impact. She’s also been unconscious since Akane and Junpei got to her so there’s a good chance she might have a traumatic brain injury as well but we won’t know how bad of a TBI it is until she wakes up.” Moments felt like hours for Diana and Sigma while they processed what they had just heard. Slowly, Diana ended up on the verge of tears while Sigma’s hands clenched into fists as he began to speak again.

“Was that all you needed to tell us or is there more?”

“There was one more thing. We might be getting tailed by the government soon and we might have to be on the move again very soon. We’ll take care of her as much as we can but soon it’ll be safer to have Akane or Junpei bring her back to America instead of having to bring her to more possibly dangerous locations and situations while she’s still recovering.”

“So you’re saying she’ll be back in america soon, right? If that’s the case we’re more than happy to let her stay with us for the time being.” The thought of having Phi close again was enough to calm Diana down for a second before all of the worst case scenarios started playing in her head. Being an ER nurse can expose someone to witness more horrific injuries and deaths than any one person ever should.

“I’m sorry, I think I need to excuse myself for a moment.” Diana left, leaving Sigma alone with Aoi on the phone.

“Is Diana okay? I know this isn’t the best news to hear but it was important to make sure you both knew what was happening.”

“Thank you, if possible keep us updated if anything changes, As for Diana, she's… she’s been under a lot of stress recently, she just needs a minute to calm down.”

“Alright, just to let you know now, from our current location to the airport nearest to Irvine, it’s a ten hour flight by jet and we don’t want to risk the flight making her head injury worse. We’re going to make sure she’s well enough to fly before we know for sure when we’ll take her back to California and we don’t know how long that will be.”

“Where are you anyway?”

“Khabarovsk, Russia, it’s an actual city and not a small town so buying medical supplies shouldn’t be an issue if you’re worried about that, but hospitals are out of the question since the last thing we want to do is anything that could result in us getting arrested. I don’t know if they got any pictures of our faces, but three of us did break into a government building so I wouldn’t consider ourselves on the good side of the law.”

“… Just keep Phi safe, please.”

“We will, don’t worry. Tell Diana what I told you, and I’ll call you again unless I make Junpei do it for me.”

“Alright.” The call ended with a beep and Sigma looked down at the phone in his hand to see they spent over 40 minutes on the call. He set it down and went upstairs to try and find Diana. And he did. She was crying in the extra bedroom in their house, there so that when Phi would visit, she would be able to have her own room. Slowly, Sigma walked over and crouched down, putting a hand on her back.

“Aoi will make sure we’re updated on what’s happening with Phi, they need to make sure she’s going to be able to handle being in a plane or a jet before she comes back, but they’re near a city so they’re able to get whatever medical supplies they need for Phi.” Diana acknowledged his presence, but still didn’t seem ready to talk. “I know that you want to be there but you have to wait, I’m sure sh-”

Diana interrupted Sigma but whatever she was trying to say came out in a mix of gasps and sobs, it was impossible to make out any words the first time she tried saying it.

“Its okay Diana, take your time.” Sigma continued to rub her back, both of them were still trying to make sense of everything they heard, but Sigma’s first priority was trying to calm his wife down. She took a couple deep breaths before trying to speak again.

“Last week we lost a patient who tried to kill themself by jumping, he wasn’t much older than Phi.” Diana turned and continued to weep in Sigma’s arms.

-

Aoi was so close to falling asleep, when did he last have a normal sleep schedule? He didn’t know, but he didn’t really think he could have one until they knew for sure everything was okay and 8,000,000,000 people weren’t going to die in a nuclear war. As close as he was to drifting off the slumberland, the knocking on the door was demanding his attention and he begrudgingly went to open it. On the other side was Akane, looking a little more relaxed than before he left to call Sigma and Diana.

“Here to let me know how Phi’s doing? Based by the look on your face things are going a bit better than an hour and a half ago.”

“I am less nervous right now, but I’m still worried. We know for sure she cracked four of her ribs and has a compression fracture on her right scapula. The doctor will return tomorrow with the supplies the stabilize the shoulder blade, so for now it’s in a splint.”

“Better than Junpei’s?”

“Aoi! This is serious, yeah it’s better than Junpei’s, but you think this is a good time to be joking right now?!”

“Yeah, yeah, Sorry, still unconscious I’m guessing?”

“Yes, we were told she was lucky she didn’t have a skull fracture so it’s likely her right shoulder took most of the damage from the fall, but she definitely has some kind of brain injury, without equipment to do scans with and considering she’s still asleep, they couldn’t tell how bad it was.”

“Not surprised. Where’s Junpei? You wanted to be free of him for a minute?” Akane scoffed at the question.

“He’s with Phi, we were asked to make sure she’s monitored at all times to be and prepare for if anything changes.”

“And if she wakes up?”

“She’ll definitely be in a lot of pain, we were given medications to have her take if she wakes up before the doctor comes back.”

“There’s something, else isn’t there.”

“I’m worried about Junpei. During the Nonary game we set up there were timelines where he didn’t react well when people died. It’s a normal reaction to have to that situation, I know, but after that, he went through a very traumatic year before we ended up in the decision game. I’m worried he’s starting to blame himself for what happened to Phi.”

“Well then go talk to him about it.”

“Not right now, I’d wanna make sure there’s nothing super bad happening when I talk with Junpei because I don’t want him to have a reason to avoid talking to me.”

“Fair.”

“How did the call go? Sorry you got left to do that but me and Junpei had to communicate to the doctor about what happened.”

“About as well as you could expect. I couldn’t see their faces, but the tone in their voices made it clear they’re emotionally torn up over this. Diana dipped towards the end of the call so it was just me and Sigma for the last few minutes.”

“Oh.” They stood there for a bit. Thinking about how it’s more than just Phi who needed help right now. Junpei was here with them, but Diana and Sigma were so far away from the daughter they love. The Kurashiki siblings had strong mental walls from the difficulties they faced as children, but even this chipped them a bit. Suddenly, Akane’s phone buzzed from inside her pocket. She pulled it out to see a text from Junpei and opened it.

“I think Phi’s waking up, I haven’t gotten a full response for anything I say to her but she’s definitely in pain.”

Without a word both of them ran for the room down the hall where Phi was. The closer they got, the more they heard soft whimpering coming from the room. Junpei said she was feeling the pain and they could hear it as Aoi grasped the door handle.

He turned it to find Phi on her left side, hand on her right shoulder with her face contorted in pain and tears streaming from her eyes. The bruises more prominent now that they’ve been working their way to the surface for almost two hours. Junpei was next to the cot trying to see what he could do to calm her down.

“Has she said anything yet?” Akane ran for the pills and water bottle on the other side of the room. It was pain killers sure, but it was going to be hard for Phi to take them if she wasn’t fully conscious. Still, they should be ready to give the medication to Phi as soon as possible.

“Not really, I was sitting over there when she started crying. I texted you after getting over here to see if she was waking up. Nothing’s changed since then.” Junpei moved away slightly to give Akane room next to Phi. Moving Phi’s hair out her face with her hand, Akane tried her best to soothe the pain while Phi was asleep as the two other people in the room sat still in silence aside from Phi’s crying, hoping for the best.

“… urts…”

“Phi?” Both Aoi and Junpei drew closer without thinking, while Akane kept her hand on the other girl’s face. All three holding their breaths hoping for the best.

“It… hurts…”

“Phi? Can you hear me?” Akane tried her hardest to not let the fear in her throat come out while she spoke. Slowly, as if barely noticeable, Phi began to open her eyes.

“Yeah, I'm… it…”

“We have pain killers for you to take, do you need help with them?”

A shallow nod from Phi was enough of a que for Akane to ask the boys to help Phi sit up enough to swallow. As they slowly moved her, she winced anytime something touched her shoulder. Akane broke the seal on the water bottle and opened two blisters containing the medication before helping phi get them into her mouth and down with a sip before Aoi and Junpei slowly helped her down back to the cot.

“Damn, this hurts like a bitch.” Phi’s speech was hoarse and quiet, but she was awake and alert somewhat of her surroundings, a good sign no doubt. “What happened?” She asked as the three other people in the room shot each other looks before Junpei raised his voice.

“Phi, what was the last thing you remember? I can explain from there.”

“We were running in the halls trying to find another way to get to the stairs, that’s it.”

“Okay, so um… we didn’t find another way to get to the stairs. We got cornered on a balcony and not long after that, we were both taken off guard and one of the rails broke, and you fell with it.”

“That… would explain a lot- ahh…” Phi winced again and brought her hand up to her head as a wave of pain shot through it.

“The doctor we had look at you said you might have some kind of brain injury but she wasn’t sure how bad it was. The painkillers should kick in soon, but you should rest as much as you can.” Akane slowly began to softly stroke Phi’s face to try and distract her from the pain. Aoi moved to cover her with the blanket again to keep her warm while Junpei moved the painkillers and water back to the other side of the room.

“Do… Diana… and Sigma…”

“I called them already and told them both I’d keep an eye on you and give what updates I can, just focus on getting better for right now.” Aoi response helped Phi relax a bit, at least they wouldn’t be wondering why she wouldn’t be able to call for awhile.

Slowly as the medicine took hold, Phi drifted off to sleep as Akane took the next shift to stay awake and watch Phi.

-

Neither Diana nor Sigma had a restful night’s sleep. Both would wake up at different times of the night, checking their phones for word from Crash Keys on Phi’s condition. Even with their worries, they still had jobs to do, Diana’s shift at the hospital is usually twelve hours long and starts at 6 in the morning, so she needed to be up early anyway. Sigma was never a morning person and worked from home on his own schedule so Diana usually places little notes for him to find when he wakes up after she leaves, something they started doing while the two of them were trapped in the bomb shelter to help keep their spirits up while Diana was pregnant. This morning however she ultimately decided to leave one note before heading out.

“Please let me know if you hear anything about Phi. I’ll check my phone during my breaks to let you know if they tried contacting me through my phone. -D”

When Sigma woke up, Diana had long since left for her shift at the hospital. Her not being there was just an indicator that she would be at work and there wasn’t any reason to worry. Still groggy from his stressful night, Sigma reached for his phone to check the time, then to find two notifications, a text from Diana an hour ago, and an email from Crash Keys two hours ago. His heart rate jumped as his brain registered what he was seeing and didn’t hesitate opening the email first to check it’s contents.

“Phi woke up a little before 5 this morning, our time. She isn’t doing as bad as we feared. She has a concussion and was still very out of it when she woke up and can’t use her right arm right now. The doctor here wants to stabilize her shoulder and keep an eye on her for the next day or two though in case something unexpected happens, after that we’ll work on getting her packed up to fly her out to you guys. Maybe set her up to be checked at Diana’s hospital as soon as you can because she hasn’t had a scan yet and she’s on fentanyl right now to dull the pain from her arm and we only have so much to send over to the US. We haven’t told her that last bit yet because the meds are making her a bit loopy and sleepy. -Tenmyouji" 

Sigma let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding soon after hearing the news. Phi’s okay right now. He thought to himself as he opened the text from Diana.

“I got an email saying Phi’s awake! Hopefully we can see her soon." 

Not wanting to leave his wife on read he sent a small confirmation that he got it too before getting up out of bed. A weight felt like it had been lifted off his shoulders, but wasn’t completely gone. Khabarovsk was at least a 10 hour flight away from Irvine and he didn’t even like being on a plane for half of that. Soon he began thinking about everything that he should make sure is taken care of before Phi comes to stay; her room should be set up so it won’t be too bright or loud while making sure she would be comfortable while her arm heals. They would have to make sure she would be able to be seen at a hospital. Did they have what they needed to make sure she could be seen? How would they explain their relationship to Phi at the hospital?

It was going to be a long day.

-

"So, did you hear about your results or were you too out of it to pay attention?”

“Shut up.”

The whole physical examination flew by for Phi, mostly likely because of the pain medications. A doctor came by after she woke up to figure out how bad her head injury was since they couldn’t tell while she was out. All she wanted to do was sleep off her killer headache but was pretty much limited to sleeping on her left side and stomach because of the split on the right side of her back which made it very hard to get comfortable. Junpei had walked in shortly after the doctor had left to bring her some food to eat so she doesn’t have to take her medications on an empty stomach.

“Didn’t answer my question, but okay. How about this, did you hear about what they’re doing when they come back?”

“They were speaking Russian and I didn’t have the interpreter in here.”

“So no?”

“No.” Junpei put the tray on a nearby table before walking over to Phi’s cot to help her sit up, before going back for her meal. Lacking use of one arm, no less your dominant arm, made a lot of mindless tasks and actions a lot harder.

“So the good news is that it’s most likely a severe concussion, but you’ll be kept an eye on until you’re out of danger of having an aneurysm or hemorrhage.”

“And the arm?”

“Your shoulder blade is still in dozens of tiny pieces so they’re gonna use a bone cement mixture to keep them all together.”

“Bone cement? Doesn’t it have an actual name?”

“Don’t ask me, it’s not my job to remember that stuff. Anyway, you’ll be numbed before they start working on your arm. Can’t guarantee how numb you’ll be though.”

“That all you wanted to tell me?”

“Aoi and Akane are gonna come talk to you after your arm is splinted back up, then you can sleep.”

“Alright.” Phi resigned herself to waiting as she looked down at the tray of food on her lap.

After the doctor had left, Phi was left laying on her stomach trying to sleep as much as she could before the Kurashikis came to talk to her. Apparently it only takes about three days to fully set, but until then she’s going to have to be careful with it and wear a splint. Not that she’d have much reason to move around a bunch anyway with a concussion and several broken ribs. It was incredibly hard for Phi to keep track of time being so tired since she first woke up but it didn’t seem like long since she finished her food and started trying to sleep again before the door opened yet again as this time two people stepped in.

“Still sleeping?”

“Trying to at least,” Phi mumbled as she moved to reposition herself enough with her mobile arm to at least be able to see the siblings as they talked. They stood next to each other with firm looks on their faces. Clearly they knew she wasn’t in immediate danger, but whatever they had to say was serious and Phi began to feel a knot form in her gut.

“You’re not in trouble, what happened was an accident on your part so there won’t be any repercussions for you and Jumpy except for making sure you both know to be more careful from now on.” Akane was the first to speak up, whether or not she had noticed Phi’s unease, Phi couldn’t tell.

“Well we won’t be having you both go on missions for a bit, we’re having Junpei go through some of the data you got and it’ll take a bit, and obviously you’re not in any state to work right now, so I’m just going to cut to the chase.” Aoi’s tone of voice didn’t change at all while he talked. “The tools we need to make hacking into those files faster and easier are all the way back in the states, and you need a safer place to rest and heal up compared to a shelter with minimal facilities as well as being able to visit a hospital without worrying about being recognized for breaking into a government building.”

“So we’re having Jumpy fly you back to America tomorrow.”

It took a few seconds for Phi to register what the pair had said, silently cursing at the fact that with the medications and the concussion, thinking had become an incredibly difficult task.

“I hope you have it planned out more than that." 

"We do!” Akane piped in, Phi wincing with the sudden noise.“Sigma and Diana are living in California, they’re more than willing to let you stay with them for as long as you need to.”

“You talked to them already?”

“We called while you were still out and have been keeping them updated since. It’s been almost a whole day.” Phi stayed quiet and tried to pay attention while Aoi and Akane explained what happened while she was out and their plans for getting her and Junpei across the pacific ocean. After they finished, they left, leaving Phi by herself again. She hadn’t seen her parents since shortly after leaving Dcom, and while she did try and keep in contact over the phone, part of her felt anxious to see them again after being gone for almost a year.

-

It was almost Midnight when Sigma and Diana arrived at the airport. Waiting anxiously by the gate for the small plane Phi and Junpei would be arriving in any minute. Diana was trying her hardest not to nod off, she would usually be in bed by now with all of her early morning shifts, but managed to get the next two weeks off for a “family emergency.” Sigma on the other hand was still awake, it could have been lingering from his college days back when his 22 year old self had been inhabiting his age appropriate body, sure, but it was actually concern for his daughter. They hadn’t had the knowledge of them being parents for a year at that point, but when Phi mentioned she would be joining Crash Keys on their hunt for the fanatic the pair had basically transformed into stereotypical worrisome parents like they had raised Phi her whole life. Eventually it opened and from the other side walked out Junpei escorting a very tired looking Phi in an oversized jacket to accommodate the splint and keep her warm in the cool October air, it took everything in Sigma to not run up and hold her close.

“You both didn’t get too lonely waiting for us did you?” Junpei said walking closer to the couple. Both practically ignored him and instead Sigma went to pick up Phi so she wouldn’t have to walk all the way through the airport to the car while Junpei and Diana handled the bags. It was a small airport which made the walk back to the car a short one, all quiet knowing Phi needed it as much as possible.

Junpei headed out early in the morning without much of a conversation aside from a “good bye,” being picked up by a local member of Crash Keys while Sigma and Diana were still waking up. Phi was still upstairs in her bedroom sleeping as much as she could and Diana would bring her food later on to eat with the pain medication and help her with basic needs and anything else she needed help with before going back to sleep. Thankfully Phi would pretty much eat anything you put in front of her regardless of what it was so they would have to bother her as much as she slept to ask what she would like to eat. This would be their routine for the next couple of weeks while Diana was off from work, occasionally there would be a request or two from Phi, usually it was an extra snack, help readjusting the splint if it slipped out of place, or help with brushing her hair that had grown out it’s red roots since she left with Crash Keys almost a year ago. Eventually Diana would have to go back to work, and unfortunately that would be happening around the time Phi was supposed to wean off the fentanyl and stick to what they could get over the counter to manage her pain, so Sigma would have to take over managing her medication while Diana was away.

The night before Diana had her first shift back at the hospital she wrote up a schedule for Sigma to follow while she was gone and he followed it to a T. It had been a couple of weeks so her concussion, ribs, and shoulder had time to heal enough that she could start moving around again so long as she kept the splint on, albeit slowly and uncomfortably. Keeping track of time on the other hand hadn’t been a high priority for Phi in combination with the jet lag, sleeping, and pain killers making her thinking process go all over the place. Going off the fentanyl slowly let her start gathering her thoughts again, although not all of them were thoughts she wanted to have.

Sigma knocked on the door gently to let Phi know he was there before opening the door. Phi was on her left side on the bed as usual, her head buried in the pillow, hiding her face.

“I’ve got your dose for today, do you need anything else before I leave?”

Phi lifted her head from the pillow, hair a mess and her eyes red from crying. She didn’t say anything as she used her left arm to sit upright.

“Is something the matter?”

“I guess.” Her voice was hoarse and quiet. Sigma hadn’t heard her talk much in the few weeks since he and Diana brought her home. He moved to sit at the foot of her bed slowly so he wouldn’t jostle the mattress enough to cause Phi more pain.

“Is it anything I can help you with?”

“I don’t know, I’m still trying to process everything.”

“Everything with the accident or…”

“Everything since last Christmas pretty much.” Phi didn’t look at Sigma as she spoke. She hadn’t spent a lot of time with her parents after leaving Dcom before leaving with Junpei and Akane to join Crash Keys on their search. While Sigma and Diana moved in together towards the end of January and had helped each other through nightmares and breakdowns that came as a result of remembering everything that took place inside of the bomb shelter, Phi took any opportunity to keep herself busy and not think about the events of the decision game until she knew everyone was safe.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

Phi nodded, head hanging low as she took a breath.

“I was back inside the incinerator, it turned on and I couldn’t move. I heard you and Diana screaming on the outside, I couldn’t hear myself burning, but I felt all of it.” Sigma listened as Phi’s voice stayed flat as she spoke. The trash-disposal room had been the source of a number of his and Diana’s nightmares. While they knew there was a history where all three of them survived, the other two histories often overshadowed it.

“Have you had any other nightmares I should know about?”

“Well there’s the whole Radical-6 pandemic and being on the moon for a start. I still don’t remember much from the Nonary game, I just have small bits and pieces without the context. The only one that’s really fully clear to me is the one where we were able to get everyone to nine points. On the other hand I still remember so much before I was frozen.”

“Do you mind if I ask what you do remember about the Nonary Game?”

“Tenmyouji and Clover were handcuffed to the sink in the infirmary, K giving Dio some water to drink to determine if it was safe to drink or not after I shoved a spoonful of food in his mouth, Dio holding a moon rock over my head, and then I think you were trying to talk to me in the pressure exchange chamber but I was having a really hard time understanding what you were trying to say.”

“I don’t think you want the details for those timelines quite yet, but I can talk to you about them later if you would like me to.”

“Thanks…” the pair sat there in silence, contemplating, before Sigma opened his mouth.

“It’s not your fault that the virus escaped the facility, we didn’t know that Mira had a vial containing Radical-6 on her and Diana did what she did because she wanted to save you. Besides, not everything that came out of the Decision Game was bad, like you.”

“And Delta. You haven’t said anything about him at all.”

“Well, you know that me and Diana were trapped in the shelter when the two of you were conceived, and the month and a half before that was essentially torture to Diana and myself. Things were a bit better after that, but after we realized she was pregnant, it felt like we had something to keep going for. I didn’t think twice about sending you both in the transporter after you both were born and making sure the time we had with you afterwards was the best we could possibly make it.”

“What timeline did this happen in?”

“It was after you… passed away in the Trash-disposal room. We didn’t know how you had died at the time because of the supposed amnesia drugs.”

“Oh.” The room fell silent once more. This was the first time either of them had really talked openly about their experiences in depth. Sure they had friends in and out of Crash Keys and the SOIS who had an idea of what happened, but it was something else entirely when the other person was right there with you.

“Hey Sigma, could I ask you to do something for me?”

“What is it?”

“Could you give me a hug please? Just be careful about the splint.” Phi slowly turned her body to face Sigma at a more comfortable angle. He moved closer and opened his arms to wrap around his daughter and keep her close, trying his best to not move the splint on her back as she buried her head in his chest.

“I’m not going to turn down a request like that.” She was so small in his arms, not as small as when she was a newborn, but small in the sense that Sigma felt like she’d snap in two if he wasn’t careful. How she managed to go almost ten months without a major incident was a mystery to him.

“Did Diana ever tell you what your birthday was?”

“I don’t think so, I’ve always just had it celebrated in June since that was approximately ten months before my foster parents got me.”

“It’s November 16th. I made a calendar on one of the walls in the lounge and the 24 hour clock on the bracelets helped us tell when a full day went by and I’d mark it off.”

“Any reason you decided to bring that up?”

“Well it’s this Friday, I thought you’d like to know.”

“Wait how long have I been here?” Phi raised her head.

“We picked you up on the 25th of October, and it’s the 13th now, so about three weeks.”

“Huh.” They stayed like that for a few minutes, Sigma not willing to remove his arms from Phi until she moved to free herself, and Phi herself perfectly content with right where she was at that point in time.

“Do you think you could help me with something else?”

“It depends on what that ‘something else’ is, I’d have to find out before I can give you an answer.”

“Could you help me with my hair? I haven’t been able to bleach it since last December and it’s longer than I’d like it to be even though I’ve gotten trims when I could.”

“I only dyed my hair once in highschool and it turned out awful, that was also over 50 years ago for my current consciousness.”

“I can tell you how to do it, we could also try and get Diana to help too.”

“I guess I can do it, you’ll have to wait until you have that splint off first.”

“I guess that’ll work. One last thing, though.” She said as she moved to free herself and sit up straight.

“What is it?”

“Can you show me around your house and what food I can eat? I pretty much only know the route from here to the bathroom and I’m getting a little stir crazy being stuck in here all day.”

“That’s understandable, do you need help standing up?”

“No I’ve got it, just give me a minute.”

-

“I’m home! How’s Phi- oh?”

Diana walked into the living room to be greeted with the sight of Sigma holding a finger to his mouth signalling Diana to be quiet. The TV was playing yet another older movie with the volume low and the brightness dimmed. Phi was sleeping on the couch leaning against her dad with a blanket draped over her lap. Diana took notice and after taking her coat off and setting her bags down, sitting next to her partner to relax for the rest of the evening enjoying the first time her little family had felt complete and safe.

[kissjane]

Okay, so my wonderful wife-for-a-day has decided to divorce me over three hours early, people, and even in spite of this cruel, cruel slight, I still present her with this [redacted] present.

It was all inspired by that lake picture for you, @bluronyourradar!

Oh and I added that proposal bit to show you that I don’t want our divorce to be a factor in our relationship henceforth. No hard feelings. You are the best ex-wife anybody could hope for. 👑

(Oh, and @nachtumringt helped. People who like pretzels may not be so bad after all.)

Ever since high school, the lake is where Lucas goes to sort his thoughts. He doesn’t remember how often he has stood here, looking out over the water surface, trying to figure out where to go, what to do, which path to take.

Today is no exception. He is about to graduate from university, and he’s got several great job offers in his pocket. This is it then. He’s standing on the edge of real adulthood, the start of the rest of his life, and he has no idea where to go.

Part of him wants to leave Paris. He has lived here all his life, and he loves the city, but he’s never been anywhere else, really. It seems like it would be so interesting to carve out a living in another town, one he doesn’t know like the back of his hand, one where he would have to learn where to get the best croissants at three am or where the coolest music stores are.

He has an offer from Le Havre, and one from Marseille. He thinks living by the sea might be nice.

But his mom is still in Paris, and most of his friends. He would miss them terribly. And really, the two offers he has received from companies based in Paris are not in any way worse than those from other places. It’s just…

It’s just that he is lonely.

Basile and Daphné have been living together for years, and Lucas knows Basile is thinking about proposing to her. Manon and Charles and Imane and Sofiane might get ideas when that happens, and even Arthur and Alexia have been going quite strong these past few years, after their rocky start with a couple of break-ups. Yann has been dating a girl he met in one of his courses for a few months now, and while he is still sometimes up to all-nighters playing games and drinking cheap beer with Lucas, recently those have become a lot less frequent. Even Mika has settled down with a guy he is head over heels with. It just leaves Lucas, Emma and Idriss, and well, on the occasions where neither of them is seeing anyone, Lucas has the sneaky suspicion they hook up.

He just wishes he wouldn’t always feel so much like the fifth wheel, whenever they hang out. He knows his friends love to have him there, but it feels like such a bother. He makes for an uneven number of chairs at the dinner table. He can’t relate to the increasing talk of anniversaries and wedding plans and shared leases. He envies them trying to navigate this next step in life together – discussing where to go live and which job to pursue related to what someone else is doing. He hates having to figure out everything by himself.

He’s not quite at the point where he’s talking out loud to the ducks pottering around nearby, but he feels like he might be getting close.

If only the lake could somehow give him an answer.

 ***

 It happens all so fast.

He hears some yelling, he sees a flash of bright coloured fabric, and then there is this huge splash.

“Oh my god!”, somebody shrieks, and then another voice, “Seems like his paraglider malfunctioned or something.”

Lucas looks at the tangle of torn fabric and paracords and broken pieces of equipment floating right in front of him.

And then – holy fuck. A helmeted head comes up for a few seconds, and then disappears again under the waves.

Shit. Is whoever was flying that thing knocked unconscious during the fall?

Before he even realizes what he’s doing, he has toed off his sneakers and has run into the water, which, fuck, is way colder than he prepared for, this early in the year.

He almost stumbles, but manages to stay upright, and without grace or finesse, and probably slower than molasses, he swims towards the slowly sinking contraption. Vaguely he thinks he’ll have to pull all of it along with him, because he has no knife to cut all the cords. He hears some shouts from the shore, but he keeps his eyes on the crash site, looking tensely for the pilot to come up again.

He breathes out in relief when he hears spluttering and gasping for breath, just as he reaches the first strip of fabric.

The panting is followed by some choice curses, and Lucas smiles despite heaving from the exertion himself.

“Hey!”, he calls out, and the curses stop as a head is turned his way. The guy – it is a guy, Lucas determines – takes off his helmet, shaking his head, panting rapidly.

“Fuck,” the stranger then says again, “I was stuck in one of my lines, but I managed to get loose. Gimme a sec.” He wheezes between words, obviously struggling to get enough air.

“Can you swim to the shore? Do you need help?”

“Fuck.” The guy looks over Lucas’ head, as if to judge the distance. “I guess I can manage. It might not be a bad idea if you stick close, though.” He laughs, a bit of self-deprecation showing through.

They make their way back, slowly, both winded. When they get there, people pull them up, and they lie down next to each other, trying to recover. Somebody has found some towels, and they dry off their faces as well as they can, though Lucas’ jeans is not going to stop dripping any time soon. He shivers.

The guy looks over, as he unzips the flight suit thing he’s got on, exposing a tanned chest.

“Hey, uh, are you okay? I’m sorry you had to come rescue me.”

Lucas tries to stop the clattering of his teeth, and he wants to shake it off, when the guy stops dabbing his face and looks at Lucas with concern in his eyes.

And – fuck.

Lucas knows the guy was just paragliding, but – he did fall out of the sky, right? He technically could be an angel, right?

Get a grip, Lallemant. Angels don’t exist.

Okay, but – I was just wishing the lake could give me a sign, right? This guy could be it, right?

Because, fuck. Even though he just narrowly escaped drowning, the guy looks gorgeous. His eyes are mesmerizing. The slivers of skin showing are not exactly helping, either.

“Hey,” the guy repeats, “are you sure you’re okay? Fuck, you’re not getting hypothermia or anything, are you?”

Lucas shakes his head, but he can’t stop quivering. How is this guy not freezing to death?

“Shit,” he hears mumbling, “of course, your clothes are soaked, and with the wind… My suit is waterproof, but you must be cold to the bone!”

Embarrassed, Lucas manages to hum in response.

Somebody hands him a coffee, and even though it is way too sweet for Lucas’ taste, he takes it gratefully, wrapping his clammy hands around the steaming cardboard, sipping carefully.

“Right,” the angel says decisively. “We need to get you home. You rescued me there, it’s only fair I save you now. Do you live nearby?”

Lucas nods.

“Great. I’m taking you home.” He drapes the towel over Lucas’s shoulder as he stands and offers his hand to Lucas to pull him up. Lucas, too cold to argue, takes it. Immediately, he feels warmer.

“I’m Eliott, by the way.”

His smile is wide and contagious.

This must be Lucas’ sign.

“Lucas,” he says, smiling back.

“Hi, Lucas. Thanks for saving my life.”

Lucas shrugs.

“I didn’t do a lot.”

“Well. Once we get to your place, I might just faint. You know, when the adrenalin wears off.”

Eliott wiggles his eyebrows, and Lucas studies him suspiciously.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmmm. I’m not gonna let the chance to get mouth-to-mouth from you pass.”

It has to be Lucas’ sign.

 ***

 A year later, when Eliott proposes, just after he and Lucas have safely landed their first duo flight, Lucas sends a quick thanks to the lake, for giving him his sign. 

[itzagothamcitysiren]

Welcome to the Family

I’m going to do the same as last time and post two chapters in a row because I suck and waited so long to update again. I’m not sure what it is about this particular story that has been dragging my feet with writing it lol. I only have the last chapter to write out so I’m going to try to finish it tonight. It won’t be long like my usual chapters, but be more like a epilogue of sorts. 

Love Is a Burning Thing and It Makes a Fiery Ring pt.4

           The first thing that had come to Halley’s senses when Bruce found her was the cold; her body left in the warehouse, laying on the concrete floor below her. The second thing that came to her senses had been a voice; Bruce’s voice. It was gruff but showing concern. Where is Robin, he asked her as he finished administering the antidote to the Joker venom into her system. Where was Jason, she questioned, her mind blurry as she felt the needle leaving her arm. The last thing that came to her senses was the pure adrenaline and dread that snapped her back to her senses completely as she and Batman raced to his bike.

           The wind whipped Halley’s hair across her face, the cold night air making her come out of her foggy state as the seconds dragged. Her grip on Batman’s waist tightened as he took another sharp turn, the beeping of the tracking system on his bike echoing in her head. She closed her eyes just to open them again as if trying to blink away the rippling anxiety pounding within her. She winced as she was once again jerked from another harsh turn, her muscles still sore from all the laughing.

           She looked at the buildings as they passed by, almost counting them to distract her mind from the fear of what was happening beyond their eyes. She barely remembered Jason being so foolish and offering himself off to the Joker. Who knew what the clown was doing to him? She tried not to think about it as they rounded another snowy street corner. But she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She knew that they wouldn’t just find Jason tied up to some chair waiting for them. No, the Joker would want to put on a show; he would want to give them something to see. Something to provoke Batman. She knew Jason was going to be in rough shape and she couldn’t wait until he healed already just so she could slap some sense into him. She had healing powers for crying out loud, she would’ve been the logical choice for Joker to take.

           They had just reached the building where Jason’s tracker led them when she jumped off the bike. As she flung her leg over the other side, she wasn’t expecting for the next couple of moments to pass her in slow motion but appear to end in a flash at the same time. The instinct to wait for Bruce before proceeding long abandoned as relief and urgency bubbled in her chest; those feelings were short lived though. In a matter of seconds she was torn backwards and away from the building, letting out a huff as her body roughly hit the rocky and uneven ground. She hadn’t even had time to learn the reason why she was thrown away from Jason and instead found herself being shielded by Bruce, heat overcoming her and not just from the body hovering over hers.

           It clicked together as Bruce’s hold on her grew tighter and she found herself clutching just as tight onto his shoulder.  She didn’t realize the scream she let out and felt no comfort as she felt Bruce pulling her closer into his chest protectively. The breath was taken from her as the air got hotter, flames sparking and cement and ruble crashing felt and heard from behind the dark knight's cape. The cape was the only thing keeping them safe, the fibers strong and heat retardant but Halley could care less about their safety right now. She pushed against the older man when everything seemed to settle or settle as much as it could.

           She heard Bruce’s harsh voice ordering her to stay down as he began to rise but she didn’t listen. She heard him tell her a second time but she still didn’t listen. Her breath was shaky as she stood up with him. Bruce looked away from her now just as silent as her. He looked up and around, trying to get a grasp on what just happened. Just like her he was speechless. He knew what happened, the evidence around him was clear enough but he just couldn’t believe it. But how could he not? Did he really think the Joker wouldn’t go this far? The burning remains of the building surrounded them telling him that yes, the Joker would go this far.

           “Stay here.” He said for a third time as he moved forward, his voice trying to keep its sternest but for once failed.

           All she heard was a buzzing in her ear from the explosion. Her breathe stopped shaking as she sharply inhaled, only to cough from the smoke around them. Her eyes were wide as Bruce began to make his way through the wreckage, the depth of the damage now fully hitting her. Halley could feel the walls starting to close in as she felt her right foot stumble forward into a step.

           Jason, she thought feeling a lump grow in her throat.

           She watched, unable to move a step further as Bruce began to move different chunks of debris away as if he was searching for something. She knew she should help, but Bruce did tell her to stay put. She was good at following orders; she always followed orders but she found herself incapable of as he moved another piece. She moved forward, suddenly in denial because there was no way he was looking for Jason underneath all of that. No one would have survived the blast from inside and there was no way Jason was gone.

           Gone.

           The word repeated in Halley’s mind like a plague: it was like a death sentence. No, Jason wasn’t dead, she repeated, he just wasn’t. It was a joke being played by the Joker. He wanted them weak, he wanted them vulnerable and what better way to do that by making them think one of theirs was dead. They were wasting time here, they had to go; they had to go find where Jason really was. This was a huge waste of time, she thought, her mind racing as her eyes grew wide.  

           “Bruce?” She pipped up, finding somewhat of a voice. “We need to go. We need to find Jason- Joker-,” she couldn’t finish speaking, feeling her throat clog up with fake optimism. “Joker must still have Jason. This isn’t real. It’s a trick.” She muttered, now talking to herself more than to Bruce.

           The man looked at her sadly, taking in the look on her face. It was the same look he wore the night his parents were killed in front of him. He gave her the same look he wore when he witnessed Dick’s parent die. He felt his own mind start to go afire with what ifs but he knew this was no joke. He knew the outcome of this situation. He knew he was too late. He kept pressing forward knowing that he had to ignore the girl’s desperate pleads to leave. He had to find his son.

           He found himself successful and couldn’t help but feel bitter as being so. His blank face showed emotion as he regrettably looked down at the boy now thrown down messily below him. Once the wall fragment was out of the way he knelt down,

           “Jason,” he whispered, unable to hide the pain he was usually so good at keeping hidden. Capturing the sight of the broken boy that had been caught underneath the rubble, Bruce reached down. He carefully lifted him into his arms, staring down at Jason’s empty face. “No.”  

           “Bruce?” Halley’s voice approached him.

           Bruce rushed to try to shield her view but failed; she was too quick. The moment she saw him drop to his knees she found it in herself to rush forward, knowing that Bruce was surely mistaken. It was a decoy and she’d prove that to him, she decided as she pushed to look over his shoulders. But even she had to begin pulling herself out of the forced doubt the moment she caught site of Jason’s form. Her body kicked into action with a strangled cry escaping her lips. She rushed to sit in front of Bruce as she still clasped onto the thought of it being some twisted joker desperately.

           “Jason!” She shouted, her hands grasping at his face before practically tearing the boy out of Bruce’s grip the moment he didn’t stir awake. Her eyes traced over the countless cuts and burns scattered on his face. “No, no, no, no-,” she kept saying in a seemingly never ending cycle.

           Bruce reached a hand to pull her away; she didn’t need to see this. He gently called out her name, placing a hand on her back when she wouldn’t budge. She only responded by swatting his hand away from her. She let out a chocked out sob before giving Jason another look, the walls fully closed in. The tears fell down freely as she collapsed onto Jason’s chest. Hearing no breaths of air escaping him from the impact rocked her body even harder as she now gripped onto the tattered uniform for some form of comfort.

           She begged for him to wake up, her words starting to fade into madness as they twisted to make no sense and became barely coherent. Bruce looked down at the two teenagers for a moment, his own heart begging for the situation to be staged. His mind drifted to vengeance, thinking to the Joker and how he was long gone by now and Bruce once again let him get away with murder. He brought down his hand again, placing it back onto Halley’s back as the other rested underneath’s Jason’s head.  

           Halley hadn’t known how long they stood there like that. She was huddled against Jason, clinging onto him as if it would bring him back to life as Bruce simply let her. But Bruce knew that they couldn’t stay like this forever. He had to get them out of here; he had to think of how he was going to explain this. Oh god, he found himself full of dread, Alfred, how was he going to tell Alfred?           He struggled to bring the pair of them to the Batplane, the girl stuck in a haze and Jason’s body weighting heavily on his mind instead of his arms. Once he placed the boy’s body down on the plane, he found the strength to call Alfred.

           Halley started to feel as if the Joker venom was still surging through her veins and if the antidote had no affect after all. She watched as Bruce took his cowl off after placing Jason down, seeing how truly lifeless he was. She sat across the way, plopped against the wall unable to move or think straight. She simply couldn’t believe what she was seeing, long stopping her tears but eyes still burning from them. She covered her mouth with her hand, completely ignoring the blood that she still had on it. Jason’s blood, she noted as she felt it rub onto her skin. She let out a laugh; this wasn’t real.

           Her body felt numb as it did for the days that followed. She and Bruce barely spoke, both unsure what to say or how to comfort the other. She even ignored Alfred’s attempts. The old man was having a hard time coping himself which only made her feel even worse. He tried, he truly did, knowing that Bruce was in the same boat as her. Sure, Bruce had helped Dick cope with his parent’s death but this, this was different. This was Jason; this was his son that was now dead.

           She vaguely remembered Bruce telling he put the Joker was back in Arkham but she didn’t care. Bruce was a fool if he thought telling her that would make her feel any better when he should know it would only make her feel worse. The damage was already done and that monster would just break out again anyways. She just glared at him after he told her, asking if that was supposed to make her feel any better. He stood silent, knowing that of course it wouldn’t; of course he knew that.

           She barely acknowledged as Dick arrived at the manor upon hearing the news and tried to comfort her. She wasn’t in the mood to talk about it or even begin to find the words to describe how she was feeling. Dick understood though and let her quite literally use him as a punching bag one night when he found her over exerting herself in the cave. Bruce had refused to let her go out on patrol and she was furious. If he was ready to go out so soon than she should be too.

           Her body ached as she delivered one last punch towards Dick’s chest, finally realizing what she was doing to him. Her fist stood pressed against his firm chest, the punch being the weakest she’d ever delivered.   Her face was contorted and scrunched upwards as she found herself trying to hold back tears. Dick saw past her wall and pulled her fist away, using her extended arm to pull her forward into a tight embrace. When her face was buried against him she let down the walls that she enclosed herself in for days crumble. Crying, she allowed Dick to carry her up and out of the cave, bringing her to his room and settling her into his bed and allowing her to cry herself to sleep against him.

           The funeral was excruciating to say the least. It was private, allowing the family to properly mourn without putting on some guise over what happened. To Gotham and the world, Jason Todd died in a skiing accident during their vacation in Bosnia. Who the fuck even vacations in Bosnia, she swore as Dick and Bruce informed her of the insulting cover story they made up. Jason didn’t die in a pathetic skiing accident. That was almost disrespectful; Jason died at the hands of some mad man.

           A mad man who was still breathing, she thought as Jason’s coffin lowered deeper into the ground. She felt something flash within her, as she thought about it.

           He was still breathing for now.

[lady-agni]

Little Bird - Ch 3

CH 1 // CH 2 //                            AO3 // FF

CHAPTER 3 : SILVER WARRIOR

SUMMARY: AU. A haunting in the Higurashi Shiro: A tragic event... and Kagome is forced to move in with her legendary grandfather. But the moment she steps into his Shiro, is when the haunting begins... and what’s with the silver statue in the garden?

PAIRING: InuKag

GENRE: Horror, Romance

___________________________________________

Last time:

“Look at me,” the voice demanded smoothly, “my little bird..” it whispered. What felt like spider hairs rubbed up her arms again. “My little jewel.”

This was all a dream. It had to be! Kagome counted one more time, one, two; she pulled her arms down for three when a shadowed figure with glowing red eyes rushed at her from above, it’s yellow teeth gnashing as it swept down with a guttural roar, “LOOK AT ME!”

With a shrill scream, Kagome bolted up from her futon and almost knocked the dying gas lantern across her floor. Hyperventilating, she looked around her room, dark wisps of smoke rolled off her legs and dissipated out the edges of the doors. Frantic, she rushed off her futon, turned to the shoji screens and unlocked them with shaking hands, bolting into the courtyard garden bathed in moonlight to escape her haunted new home.

Kagome made a mad dash that night to the garden in the center of her grandfather’s estate, her legs pounding on the dirt, breaths leaving her in a rush. She ran blindly with no destination, desperate to escape the confines of her room where the chilling voice had assaulted her.

The Japanese garden curled around her with intricate turns and paths, sculpted bushes and pearlescent statues rose from the ground as she dodge madly around them, winding around koi ponds and curved bridges. After the quick burst, her adrenaline suddenly crashed, and she felt herself collapse to the ground with exhaustion, her body sliding down a looming silver statue as she fought to catch her breath.

Everything terrified her: the darkness, the silence, the loneliness, that… that voice.

She slumped down to the damp ground and lay her head back on whatever statue she may have come across, her lids opening and staring at the night sky, glittering like diamonds. They shone endlessly, and she watched them, willing the sight to calm her. Maybe, maybe her family was up there; her brother, father, and mother. She choked back the tears that threatened to drown her. In a matter of moments, they had all been stolen from her. Their lives, gone... in a blink of an eye.

A sudden wave of heaviness washed over her, the sadness of her family gone shrouding her in a grief she had never known.

Kagome released a shuddering breath, completely and utterly heartbroken, scared, and alone. The pain in her chest consumed her, a sudden sob left her lips as tears streamed down her cheeks. How on Earth would she ever be able to go on without them? Fate was cruel, she decided as another sob left her and she rubbed at her face with her forearm roughly.

Her family was gone, and she was left stuck with her grandpa in his massive estate which was very convincingly haunted. Either that, or she was pretty much losing her mind. But, she adjusted her position against the statue as she thought, it had felt so real; those glowing red eyes, the yellow teeth, that deep sinewy voice, she had even seen remnants of smoke leave her room.

There was no way she was going back in there, she decided. Uncomfortable, she sat up and turned to look back at the statue which had been digging uncomfortably into her back.

A sharp breath, and she was caught speechless. Her stormy eyes went round at the sight of the magnificent silver creation before her. The strong build of a man stood six feet tall above her, billowing pants etched in stone, haori sleeves arched in an elegant wave around its body, long silver hair almost seemed to blow into the night. An incredibly massive sword was swung over its shoulder. Two curves of armor with jagged spikes protected the other.

Kagome staggered to her feet in awe and took a step towards it, taking in the sharp features of its face. The handsomely tense jaw, the pointed curve of its nose, the furrowed brow. And was that a fang she saw there?

What the hell?

She took a step back as she thought. She couldn’t ever remember seeing this statue before. Not once in her young life. It almost looked like a real man. The eyes were so expressive and angry. And, were those… claws around the sword’s hilt?

Kagome rubbed her arms to comfort herself and keep away the slight chill of the night. The moon shone down on the statue which she swore was stone, but then marble, and then shone silver against the dark backdrop of the garden. It seemed to glow almost ethereally in the night.

A moment passed as she gaped at the majestic creation. It looked fearless, almost heroic; a leg was bent at its side, its naked foot stooped on a naturally formed rock that jutted out of the damp grass. It was a stance ready for battle.

After finally collecting herself and closing her gaping jaw, Kagome cleared her throat; a bit embarrassed at herself for ogling something that wasn’t even real. She made to turn when a pointed angle jutting from the statue’s head shone an almost painful silver light into her eye.

That’s it, she decided, her heart skipping a beat, she was officially losing it.

Yet, even with that thought, she stepped impossibly close to the statue. She pushed herself onto her tippy toes, brushed up the statue’s torso and leaned over it, lifting an arm and stretching it as far as she could to press her thumb, index, and middle finger softly around its doglike ears. The warmth that seeped into her skin from the contact shocked her. As a matter of fact, as she slipped her thumb softly up the incredibly detailed fur ridge, she swore heat was radiating through the statues' clothes straight into hers as well.

The silver figure absolutely radiated heat in the middle of the cool night.

Before Kagome could give it further thought, she swore she felt it rumble against her, from the tips of its ears all the way down its chest, and she drew back stunned. Was that, was that a growl?

Bewildered, she gaped at the man, no, creature, from a safer distance.

Yup, she was mad. Completely and utterly crazy. In that instance, his face seemed almost too real to her, the anger etched on it palpable to her senses. It’s lips curved down in a deep frown.

Kagome cleared her throat, looking around her nervously. The sound had stopped. Maybe… maybe it was a little earthquake? She eyed the koi pond behind the statue, it’s water calm, not a ripple shone in the darkness. She lifted her hands and brushed her hair back in frustration. Grandpa’s Shiro was driving her crazy. The inside was haunted, and now maybe so was his garden. She looked back nervously, surprised to have a direct line of site to her room. The screens were still pulled open, it’s darkness promising horrors she wanted no part of.

Nope! Nope, nope, nope! She was not going back in there. Even if it was cold outside.

She turned back to the handsome statue as she contemplated. Kagome took a tentative step towards it, nervous that it would somehow come alive with a flurry of growls. She reached out slim fingers and spread them over it’s chiseled chest, feeling the warmth radiate off it again. So strange, she thought.

The growling did not return. So she made up her resolve and slid down it’s length, cocooning herself between it’s billowing pants and closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself and leaning her head on it’s leg. She’d rather sleep out here she decided. Surprised at how warm she was becoming, the comforting temperature and the sounds of the night lulled her to sleep.

[moon-antics]

You should do a Poe Dameron x reader fic with prompts 13 & 32!! 💞

authors note : thank you so much for requesting this! i haven’t written in a long time but this was fun, and i really hope you enjoy it too. please let me know your opinion and advice! be kind, pls

character / ship : poe dameron x reader

prompt(s) : 13 - “gosh, i wish i didn’t love you” + 32 - “don’t you dare die on me!”

summary : poe dameron doesn’t have many regrets, but loving you is certainly one of them

word count : 1899

warnings : angst, sadness, character death (maybe bad writing?)

 Okay for once you might have to admit, that was a really close call. Your X-Wing barely scraped by a Tie-Fighter, damaging your right wing in the process. You tried to get closer in order to finish the ship off with a clear shot, sadly the other pilot had to have the same idea and you both half-heartedly collided. You were lucky, the TIE-Fighter was sent crashing into one of his colleagues, both exploding on impact.  It wasn’t supposed to go this way at all. You and Poe were sent out to investigate a signal that was foreign to the Resistance. ‘This could be a merchant that came off course at worst’. Oh, how utterly wrong you were.

“Are you okay?!”, Poe’s noticeably worried voice rang through the comms while you tried to stabilize your ship. You could almost imagine the frown on his face right now, trying to keep his eyes focused on the threat ahead while his gaze also drifted towards you, making sure you’re still in the sky with him. “Y-yeah I’m okay, no major damage.”, your voice was shaken up, which made Poe shiver. If only you knew how much he hated this : You being a pilot, going on missions, going up against the First Order in combat.

You were always in danger, just like him. The thing is, he could handle himself, that doesn’t mean you couldn’t, seeing you kick some Stormtroopers asses was one of the many reasons Poe fell in love with you in the first place. But he knew what the risks were, he knew he could die any second and he was okay with that. When he signed on to be a pilot for the Resistance he expected to die in a matter of weeks. Yet he didn’t. Thank god for that, otherwise he would’ve never met you. You, the light of his life, the reason he wakes up every morning and fights for a better life. He loved you so, so unbelievably much and yet, sometimes he wishes he didn’t. The image of your X-Wing being shot down has haunted his nightmares often already, it never gets easier.

And again, he woke up in a cold sweat, panting heavily. The horrors of his dream made him sit up and look around his room. Okay, he was in his room and not on his ship.. He ran one hand through his locks and buried his face in both seconds later. ‘It felt too real this time.’ After getting up, not without waking BB-8, he quietly left his quarters and walked down the hallway to yours, like he was in a daze. Only the droids confused beeps were heard in the silence of the night. ‘She has to be okay.’

He stood in front of your door for a few seconds before he decided to knock. The sound echoing off the door was so delicate that he was surprised when you opened it a few seconds later. Your blanket was wrapped around your shoulders, your eyes still heavy with sleep while you rubbed them with the back of your hand. “Poe? What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night..” “I know, I know.. I’m sorry if I woke you up.” He prayed that you didn’t see how he admired your sleepy form, wanting nothing more than to just tug you in and hold you forever. “Are you okay? You seem fidgety.” Here’s the thing.. you didn’t know about Poe’s feelings and he very much made sure it stayed that way.

“No, nothing.. just, wanted to see if the lights in your room are working again.”, he smiled sheepishly as he peered into your room. You raised an eyebrow at him before you cracked into a tired smile. “Yup, all lit up..”, you chuckled slightly before a yawn escaped your lips, making the man before you almost cradle you in his arms. You were used to his late-night visits by now, he always found some stupid excuses to knock at your door before dawn. But you never questioned him or his stupid excuses... you didn’t mind, not one bit. Sometimes you even anticipated it before going to sleep. Of course, you’d never let him know, he would only make fun of you!

“Well, I’ll let you get back to sleep.. See you in a few hours.”, his smile only grew wider as you smiled that beautiful smile of yours, the one that reached your eyes and made his heart skip ten beats. You saluted him which only made him stifle his laugh by biting his lip. “Good night, Commander.”

“Night..”

 The sounds of weapons firing and TIE-fighters zooming past him brought him back to his senses. BB-8’s beeps also reached your ears. “I’m fine BB, thank you.”

Sudden anger overtook Poe and he was reminded of why he never told you about his feelings. He wanted them to disappear, especially when you both sat in your X-Wings facing danger. He didn’t want to lose you; he couldn’t even think about the pain that would bring him. There was no way these feelings could bloom in a place like this. You were being reckless like this made anger accompany his worry for your safety. But he had to play it down, stay in his lane. The best pilot of the Resistance getting influenced by his feelings? That’s not what he wanted to be known for. Everyone still knew you two were close, but that’s all. Just friends.

“You’ve got to be more careful (Y/N)!”, he was never good at hiding his feelings, totally contradicting his whole plan, and now he was clearly annoyed by your ‘recklessness’. His hostile tone didn’t sit well with you at all. Your heart was racing, you were scared shitless and he got mad at you? Hell no. “Two Fighters are down because of that and I’m fine! Relax.” Maneuvering around the enemies got harder with the anger clouding your mind. “Don’t be so reckless.”, was the only answer you heard from Poe’s side. “Says you! You would always get yourself killed if none of us would step in!” You referred to the multiple times you or other members of the Black Squadron saved him from his stupid actions. Whenever he disobeys the Generals orders and knowingly throws himself head first into danger, you feel like your heart stops every time. You don’t want him to be in danger, not if its avoidable. An offended scoff echoed on the line. Both of you sat there in silence, shooting the enemy when possible and evading their attacks. A deep sigh escaped Poe’s lips, “Gosh, I wish I didn’t love you..”

What did he just say? Your eyes widened; you couldn’t move. Your brain wasn’t able to work around what Poe just said. In that moment you could’ve sworn that the whole galaxy heard your heartbeat. “W-what? Poe what do you-“, your comms went silent simultaneously with a loud crashing in front of Poe.

“No..NO!”

The sight made his blood run cold.

It was your X-Wing, just like in his nightmares. The shot killed your engine and power circuits. Now you were free-falling towards the surface of the planet, but you didn’t see much of the clouds racing past you. The impact of the shot knocked you out cold, maybe it was better this way. Poe’s scream reached no one as he raced after you, not caring one single bit about the First Order, you were more important.

You slowly regained consciousness and forced your eyes opened. A pained groan escaped your lips, the headache you had made you feel like your helmet was squishing your brain. You regained focused and looked ahead - You wish you didn’t.

You raised your arms to shield your head from the upcoming crash, but to no avail. The pain was short, but horrible, before the world around you went dark and quiet again.

Poe had contacted the base, requesting immediate medical help. “Commander, it’s too dangerous for us to send anyone there with the First Order still in the sector.” “That’s the problem? Alright, fine. I’ll take care of it.”, he answered through gritted teeth. He turned his X-Wing around and went after the rest. He shot them down, all of them. They didn’t stand a chance. He would’ve smiled and made a cocky remark for you to roll your eyes at.. but you couldn’t react that way. Instead he blinked away his tears. Why did he say that? Why now? Why not while you were safe and sound on the ground?

“Medical support is on its way, sir.”

His feelings brought him to the exact point he didn’t want to be at; so worried he could puke and the dark thoughts at the back of his head haunting him like in his dreams. ‘What if she’s- no, don’t even think like that. She’ll be fine.’

The flame and smoke erupting from your crashed ship lead him to your position. He landed not far from the crash-site, leaping out of his cockpit and throwing his helmet to the side, almost hitting BB-8 in the process. The little droid rolled after Poe as he made his way closer to your ship. Your cockpit was destroyed, he could see your upper body hanging out of the front. He sucked in a harsh breath, trying to keep his lips from quivering as he went closer, trying to shield himself from the flames. “(Y/N)..” Your flight-suit was dirty and damaged on multiple spots, blood stains all over. Poe didn’t hesitate to get you out of that ship, not even when he felt the fire licking at his skin.

When he got you out and finally held you in his arms, he could barely look at you.

Your face was bloody, you had a wound on your forehead, your nose was bleeding, and your lip was split. That was just noticeable damage. He never wanted to see you like this.

A few steps were all he managed before he collapsed to his knees with you in his arms, the adrenaline wearing off and the reality slowly settling in. He didn’t care about his tears anymore; he didn’t stop them. He never felt pain like this before. Seeing you in this state made his heart ache. His body was shaking as his hand reached up to cup your cheek gently. “(Y/N) please.. please!”, a heavy sob escaped his quivering lips, his grip on you tightening slightly, “Don’t you dare die on me!”

His thoughts started running wild, imagining all the what if’s. What if he told you when the war was over? What if you even..loved him back? What if you die now?

The medical staff arrived and took you from him after he weakly put up a fight. He watched them carry you away, already tending the wounds on the rest of your body that Poe didn’t acknowledge, or rather he couldn’t process them.

He didn’t want this to be real, he should wake up now, right? This is just another nightmare.

BB-8 nudged him slightly, a low beep reaching Poe’s ears. Said man was still on knees, watching the ship take off with you in it. He felt so empty, like all the colour got drained from the world. “This isn’t how it will end.” Fear, denial?

“I never got to tell her everything..”

[vancouverescapes]

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[midnightwriting]

A story idea : By India Tungate

But now, my biggest fear was my reputation. Because reputations rule your life, right? One stupid mistake and suddenly your world can come crashing down all around you in a thousand of bloody pieces. Piercing right into your soul. Changing how you appear on the outside to everyone else and leaving scars on the inside.

I exhaled softly, hoping that Jacob couldn’t hear me crying as I sat in the passenger seat of his pick-up truck. I didn’t want him to think that tonight went completely wrong because of him. It was all me. It is always my fault.

“Look, it’s fine.” He spoke softly as he tapped his fingers nervously on his stirring wheel. “I should had known better than to ask you out on a date this soon after you and Lucas broke up.”

Hearing his name seemed to have set my soul on fire. The hairs on the back of my neck stood tall and my hands began to sweat. My stomach began to tighten and I could feel the heat of vomit rising in the back of my throat. The name Lucas is forever ruined for me.

“I was the one who agreed to it. It’s fine Jacob.” I replied quickly as I kept my focus on the flashing white line from the road.

His tapping grew louder, catching my curiosity. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Jacob reached his hand out towards me. I turned my face towards him and gave him a look that clearly stated “I do not want to be touched.” But yet he continued to reach for me until his hand landed forcefully against my leg.

“Jacob...”

“You know, I just thought that since you fucked Lucas that you’d like to know what a real man felt like.” His voice changed. It was deeper, rougher, hiding something.

I shoved his hand away and opened my mouth to say something but before I could, he reached out and grabbed my leg again, this time a little to close to my underwear. I growled in anger as I grabbed a hold of his fingers and tried my best to bend them backwards.

“Are you fucking kidding me Jacob!” I screamed.

“What? You are the one who decided to wear a skirt on a first date. Everyone knows that is code for easy access.” His eyes were glowing with mischief as they swept over my body. I suddenly felt dirty.

“I thought you were my friend!”

“Darlin’, ever since you decided to steal your best friends boyfriend and fuck him after only a few weeks of dating, you have no friends.”

Hot rage began to burn inside me. It took everything in me to calm my voice as I spoke, “Did Val put you up to this?”

“I’m not a rat.” He chuckled, unfazed by the tugging I was doing on his filthy fingers.

“Jacob please! Stop this! I didn’t even have sex with Lucas. The asshole tried to pressure me into it but I told him no. He was pissed and decided to spread the rumor around so that he could have his bragging rights and ruin my reputation. I’m not that kind of girl.”

Jacob’s hand gripped my leg so hard I squealed out in pain. “I know.” He admitted and shoved his hands up my skirt and into my underwear.

Hot tears strolled down my cheeks. I don’t understand why this is happening. Why Jacob was being so cruel to me. I tried to scream but panic gripped my throat. He saw me reach for the door handle and before I could try and escape, ready to jump, Jacob hit the door locks.

My hands were so wet with sweat that I had a hard time pulling the lock switch. As my fingers failed to listen to me, Jacob let go of my leg and held down my hands. He revved the truck’s engine and chuckled loudly with it’s echos.

“Your a evil piece of shit!” I spat and lifted my leg to kick his arm away but as everything else goes in my life, my plan backfired. Jacob’s tight grip found its familiar place on my thigh. He now had a hold of my hand and thigh. With one motion he placed my hand on top of my underwear and forced me to rub myself.

“You know you love this Mia. Let me just show you a good time.” His voice purred.

I kicked. I clawed. I pinched. I tried to bite him.

I twisted. I screamed. I cursed. I cried.

Nothing worked. Jacob was one of the largest males on our high schools football team and there was no way that my scrawny self was going to get away from his grip. I wanted to give up. I almost stopped fighting. Until it happened.

All I remember was hearing a huge smack. Then the crushing of metal. Glass sprinkled all around us. The world came to a quick halt. My head became fuzzy.

It took me a few minutes to regain my conscious. The first thing I noticed was how cold I felt. My body was shaking and I wasn’t sure if it was from adrenaline or from freezing.

Was I dying?

Is this what death feels like?

To my surprise, I was able to move my arms. It was then that I noticed I was laying on something hard. I felt dirt under the palms of my hands. Did I fly out of the windshield?

I pushed with all of my might and after a few failed attempts, I was able to push myself from the ground. I felt stiff but had no pain. I checked my legs and then my arms for any cuts but I had none.

“What the...” I tried to speak but the site before me took my breath away.

Jacob’s truck was crushed. I ran towards the front and saw that it was completely smashed in. It looked as if we had hit a brick wall but yet the only thing around us was a few trees and an open road. No cars. How could this of happened?

I ran around until I reached the drivers side door and began pulling against it.

“Jacob! Are you okay?” I shouted.

I couldn’t see a thing through the crushed metal. My throat began to tighten with fear. Could he be dead? What the hell just happened!

I paced the side of the road, praying that Jacob was on the ground as I was but I couldn’t find him. Before I could reach the truck, the sound of sirens bled through the air.

“And that is really what happened?” A piercing voice snapped me back into reality.

I blinked away the memory and took in a deep breath, hoping to calm away my nerves. I looked up, tears streaming down my eyes, and studied the woman’s face.

She looked unraveled by my story. Her dark brown eyes watched me closely from across the small table. Red painted nails began to drum against its wood surface, shoving me back into the memory of Jacob tapping his stirring wheel. Alive.

But he’s dead now.

And even though he was taking advantage of me, I wouldn’t of wished death onto him. But somehow an in invisible wall stopped him from slipping his fingers inside me. Somehow the truck crushed into us, twisting into Jacob’s body but magically I came out of the crash without a scratch.

I guess that is why I am stuck inside of a tiny room at the Langley’s Police Station and have had to repeat my part of the story three times now. Each time I have received the same judgmental looks and snickers. No one believes me. And I couldn’t blame them.

I’m starting to wonder if I could believe myself.

“So Ms. Overton, your.....”

A knock on the door interrupted the detective. With a quick frustrating huff, she motioned for a guard to open the door and as soon as her eyes landed onto our newest guest, a frown draped across her face.

“What are you two doing here? I have the rights—“

“I’m sorry Detective Mullins but we will be taking over this case.” A woman appeared from the shadows. Her voice moved through my body like silk. She wore a stunning white dress that hugged her body in all of the right places while keeping her style business appropriate. Her hair touched the base of her neck and was dyed an unusual shade of dark red. She had lips to match it along with a pair of enchantingly golden eyes.

I was so intrigued by this mystery woman that once Detective Mullins shouted my whole body shuttered, ripping me back into reality.

“This is bull shit! This makes twenty cases this month! Twenty! You can’t do this.” She argued, flaring her nose as she spoke each word.

“Oh but I can. Now if you will excuse me, I have some work to do.” The woman waved her hand at the guard who took Detective Mullins by the arm and led her towards the door.

“I’m talking to Ben!”

“Whatever you must dear. I really don’t care. Goodbye!”

The door slammed from behind Detective Mullins, leaving the intriguing woman and myself alone in the room together. I looked towards the door, puzzled that there wasn’t a guard in the room with us. Then I studied the mirror, wondering who was watching us from behind its two sided glass.

The woman snapped her fingers, startling me. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and handed it towards me. I tried to smile a thanks but my strength was gone from the past 24 hours of interrogations.

“I’ll tell you the same story that I have told everyone else.”

“There will be no need for more story telling Mia. I believe you.” She smiled as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

I watched her closely as she placed a cigarette into her mouth and inhaled its cancerous smoke. She didn’t look like she was mocking me but I wasn’t sure if I could take her seriously. Especially with that cigarette in her mouth.

“You believe me? Why? Everyone else thinks I’m crazy.”

The woman blew a puff of smoke towards the ceiling, her golden eyes piercing into mine the whole time. She rose one of her red brows and took in a deep breath before she spoke.

“I believe you because I know the truth about you. And I’m here to get you out of here and take you to a place where you’ll feel safe.”

“Wait, what?” I baffled, unsure of what this woman was saying.

“Mia, sweetie, your enchanted. And your not safe here anymore.”

[beautifulletdownfics]

‘someday, someday’ :: tumblr edition, #27

In hindsight, given what was happening, I shouldn’t have answered my phone to the unknown number.

The week after we returned from New York was a whirlwind. Harry and I spent our first day back holed up together at his house, snoozing through jet lag and doing our laundry from the trip. I went straight back to rehearsals the day after that, fighting off a tickle in my throat I was adamant wasn’t going to turn into any kind of seasonal head-cold. Harry spent two days in his UK management office, sorting out all the paperwork and legal aspects of him working on his March EP in London with Rodger’s studio before he was straight to work writing and recording.

At some point, I would be joining him in the studio because, as Rod from his management company had alluded to in New York, Harry was hoping to include the song that I helped him with his new releases. He wanted to give me full writer's credit which I was instantly opposed to, but Harry was adamant that without being able to credit my contribution he wouldn't release the song. It was a beautiful song and as much as I was uncomfortable being included, it felt like daylight robbery to have it die because of me.

Alongside that, my dad arrived in town, and in-between my own rehearsals I managed to sneak into his and sit in on him working with the London Symphony. I spent most nights having dinner with him near his hotel and then getting the tube back to my own house because Harry was either out or had already crashed for the night and I didn’t have the heart to disturb his sleep patterns.

Between all this, it was increasingly becoming harder to ignore the chatter that seemed to be following me. I was more and more finding myself ignoring message notification on my phone, avoiding surfing any news sites, and I’d disabled what felt like every possible setting on my social media accounts. Friends from Blackpool and Cambridge were reaching out about Gavin and what he was saying, and more than a few of them were asking questions about Harry. I felt like I was the gatekeeper to some ridiculous secret everyone wanted details on, and what was making me feel sick about it was that, at this stage, the assumption in the gossip mill was simply that I knew Harry. Nobody had run far enough with the whole idea to predict I might be anything other than friends with the famous pop star.

I spent the whole week looking forward to the weekend. Friday night and Saturday were booked doing nothing in particular with Harry. Saturday evening would be spent with Harry, Rodger, Max, Gemma and Ned watching my Dad conduct the London Symphony Orchestra. And Sunday was reserved for spending at Harry’s dealing with whatever hangover resulted from the night before.

So really, answering an unknown caller on Friday just as I was about to text Harry I was on my way and walk into the tube was a stupid move.  It was almost certainly going to be someone that I definitely did not want to talk to; still, there was some part of my brain who thought perhaps it was someone from the orchestra whose number I hadn’t saved yet or a call about an appointment I forgot I made.

“Nina, as I live and breathe,” Gavin’s voice was smooth and precise in my ear, “You really did block me number, huh.”

I stopped walking and turned on my heel, trying to escape but having nowhere to go. I briefly considered hanging up out of sheer panic, but I didn’t like the precedence that set. Before I could figure out what the hell to do, he continued speaking. Holding my trumpet case in one hand and the phone in the other, I ducked into a shop alcove and stared blankly at the passing people in disbelief.

“You’re a tricky woman to get a hold of these days,” He crooned, “Shacking up with a pop star has changed you.”

"Gavin," I said, my voice shaking in a way I couldn't control, "What can I help you with?"

"Straight into assuming I need something from you," Gavin said with a tut, "I was calling to congratulate you. I underestimated you, which isn't something I care to admit."

I tried to give my voice a chipper edge, "That's big of you."

"What I can't figure out though is what he gets out of it," Gavin asked, sounding pleased with himself, "Styles doesn't strike me as needing numbers in the symphonic community."

"You don't know the first thing about Harry," I snapped quickly, immediately regretting it.

"Clearly," Gavin agreed eerily quickly, I'd played right into his hands, "Although no, that's probably not entirely fair to say. On paper, you're a catch. He'd have to have an ego on him, lesser men have fallen into the same trap."

"Gavin," I breathed out, losing my patience with his bating me. My heart was racing, and I turned back into the tube just so I could find somewhere to sit. "Why are you calling?"

"Just checking in," He said defensively, "Been getting loads of questions about you and wanted to speak to the legend herself. Couldn't believe Leon when he saw you at New Years, I was sorry to miss it."

"You're getting questions because you practically begged for the attention," I whispered quickly, suddenly surrounded by other people waiting for the train to pull up.

"Hey," He sneered down the phone, "I can share whatever the fuck I want online, hear me? It's not like Harry fucking Styles is going to sacrifice his perfect little media identity to correct the record for your sorry arse. Not that I technically said anything he needs to get his knickers in a twist about."

"What do you want from me?"

"Nothing," Gavin all but spat, "What on earth could you possibly have that I would want? It's pathetic to see really, you sucking off The Man to land that interview. Seems I was right, classical music can only get you so far ... You've had to get yourself a famous boyfriend to get anywhere."

"I was in the orchestra before Harry—"

"—Keep telling yourself that, love," He laughed.

"Gavin, just leave me alone, okay? Just ... Don't say shit online about Harry or me. You got the career you wanted, just back off mine, okay?"

"You owe me," He barked, "What on earth makes you think you can tell me how this is going to go?"

Dozens of other conversations with the same tone started layering over in my head, memories from years ago that had taken a long time to write over suddenly crashed through my mind and seized me up inside. He was just the same as always, and having been away from Gavin for so long supplied the harsh reality it—of what he had always been like—that much more jarring. I stopped speaking, which always resulted in Gavin's poison gaining momentum. I found a seat on the tube and pushed myself as far against the glass as I could, adrenalin was making my legs weak, and my eyes star.

"Do you know how embarrassing it was to have my girlfriend go fucking crazy and fall off the deep end?" He continued.

"I'm not crazy," I said weakly, feeling my eyes heat and my throat constrict.

He laughed sarcastically, "Love, you went full One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, we all know it. Jesus Christ, the questions I got when you fucked off. Humiliating is an understatement, I—."

With shaking hands, I held my phone out in front of my face, hearing him continuing to speak but not understanding the words correctly. I pressed the hang-up button and hurrying to go into my call log and block the number. After my phone was safely on aeroplane mode, I slipped it under my thigh and looked out the window at the black tunnel passing by, my own reflection staring back at me.

I looked crazy.

+++

I loved the London underground.

On weekend nights everyone is dressed up and smells terrific, the carriages are dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights, and there’s an air of something intrinsically seductive and winsome. Business people coming home have the relieved look of people who have earned their weekend breaks, and people on their way out have a joyous look of the pending release.

It can be so relaxing, and it's the only place in the world I have ever enjoyed the company of strangers. Because they're non-threatening, and I know they’re not expecting anything from me. I can be invisible, hiding behind anonymity and the simple fact that everyone has somewhere to be, people to meet and life to live.

I distracted myself with these thoughts as I sat on the train, swinging between digesting the call with Gavin and pretending it didn't happen by watching the people of London around me. I hadn't been paying attention to the train I got on and ended up heading in the opposite direction I usually did. I stumbled out of the carriage at some point and changed direction back into the city.

But when the Baker St underground came, I didn’t get off like I should have.

I needed to get on the Hammersmith and City line, but when Baker St came and disappeared again, and I was still firmly planted in my spot in the carriage. I did a quick calculation in my head and figured I could get off at Edgeware Rd, the next stop, and then go back.

But I didn’t.

I completely froze.

The station spun by, and the train breathed with passengers going off and new ones getting on.

Four stops came and went that way. I sat clasping my phone in my lap and trying everything I could to calm my thudding heart enough to allow me to get out at the next stop. I had to get off, I had to call Harry.

Or Max. Or Rodger. My dad. Anyone.

But I was sat on a train on the other side of London to them all. I told Harry I would let him know when my rehearsals finished for the day to see if he was still working with Rodger or if he was already heading home. If he was still with Rodger, we had plans to get dinner nearby before heading to North London where his home was. If Harry was already on his way home, I was going to get the tube to him.

An announcement came over the carriage speakers saying that the next stop, Shepherd’s Bush Market, was the last of the line and all passengers needed to disembark.

Ten minutes later, I found myself standing outside the station, trying to create an idea in my head of what was around this area. It was nearing seven o’clock by this stage, and the only thing I knew would be open was London Westfield, just a short walk away.

I put my phone into my blazer pocket, trying to forget I owned it at all, and followed the crowd into the shopping centre, my instrument case heavy at my side.

Most of the shops were shut, or closing, but the centre stayed open late for the cinema and restaurants dotted throughout.

I walked through numbly, my eyes flitting around all the different exhibits and stores. Most of them were familiar, but there was a level of comfort in the fact there were only a handful of other people I was sharing the space with. I liked being able to hear my heels click on the shiny floors, and the way the music playing through the speakers could be easily deciphered.

I recognised the Ed Sheeran song currently playing, but it was hearing another melody cut over it that halted me in my spot, and I wondered how it had been able to sneak up on me.

‘Romanza’ by Chopin.

A song more familiar to me than any pop song, one that had been familiar for years in a style that was as easy as breathing for me to inhabit.

My steps automatically quickened, and I found myself darting my gaze around, trying to follow the sound. I turned a final corner and hit what Rodger liked to refer to as the ‘Paris End’ of Westfield, where all the high end and designer stores were. The lighting up here was softer, the stores were guarded and underneath an impressive crystal chandelier was a black Bösendorfer grand piano.

There were armchairs arranged in a circle to the side of the piano, and I slowly slipped myself into one, putting my case down and not taking my eyes of the young man playing exquisitely for the whole shopping centre to hear. The acoustics were amazing.

With a small nod and a smile, he acknowledged my arrival but went back to his former state; eyes

closed, back swaying back and forward, and a blissfully serene look on his face. I was jealous of him.

The calmness of the piece eventually overtook me as well, and I rested my head back comfortably and shut my eyes to really hear what was being played. My heartbeat slowed, and the noise in my head disappeared. The scratchiness of my trousers and the damage my simple, black boots had done my feet disintegrated with it.

All that existed was a beautiful piano concerto being played, and my witnessing it.

Halfway through Debussy’s ‘Reflects Dan L’eau’ when I snapped back into the present by the bungle of three completely wrong notes, all in quick succession to each other. My eyes fluttered open and the way the shiny, reflective roof of the shopping centre took several moments to clear from my blurry eyes told me they had been shut for quite a while.

“Thought you’d drifted off, Miss,” he called out through a smile, slowing his playing and speaking over the piano. Something in the glint in his eye told me he knew messing up the notes would be the fastest way of catching my attention. His eyes fell on the instrument case at my feet.

“No,” I mumbled, sitting up straighter and watching as he nodded politely and then went back to concentrate on his playing, “I was just listening ...” I added quietly to myself.

The fact that he didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in why I was there, or why I didn’t appear to be making any move to leave pleased me. He simply went back to his playing, and I didn’t see him look my way again.

7:48pm, my phone screen read and when I turned aeroplane mode off the screen lit up with two missed calls from Harry and a string of texts, along with a missed call from Max.

5:12 Hiya, we're wrapping up now, I can swing by Southbank and pick you up for half-past? x

5:25 Sorry, make that 6. Traffic is shocking.

5:38 You're usually finished by now, everything okay?

6:10 Have I completely forgotten something I shouldn't have? Were you going to see your dad?

6:38 Babe, you're worrying me. Call me back x

He was worried, and I felt sick for it. Watching Harry's regular interactions with me and how he was going about a typical Friday night barely felt real. I didn’t know what I felt about what Gavin had said to me, but I knew that as soon as I pinpointed one emotion, the avalanche of all the rest would ensue. And following that would be an overriding sense of panic.

Panic was coming already though, seeping through the gaps and crevasses, damaging the wall blocking out what I was feeling. Because worrying about fear only brought it on faster, making it stronger. It was that double-edged sword of knowing something was coming but then inadvertently making it occur sooner.

I leant forward with my elbows on my knees and my head resting in my hands, putting all my attention on placing my feet in their black heels as close together and perfectly aligned as I could. My phone screen lit up on my lap, and my eyes were drawn to it before I could make myself ignore it.

Everything in me was screaming to call him but because I didn’t know what I would say to him I hesitated. All my mind could make my body focus on was the music swirling around me. It felt like a small miracle to have found it immediately after my conversation with Gavin, to have ended up on this armchair, under a crystal chandelier in the great hall of London Westfield listening to the greats; to Chopin, and Rachmaninoff, and Debussy, and Tchaikovsky. They were being played by a stranger I had never seen before and would never see again but for the last hour everything he had been telling me—everything he was saying through the notes his fingers were commanding—made sense to me. For the last hour, this had been my language, and he was the only other person in the world speaking it.

I looked back down to my phone on my lap. I knew what I had to do, but I didn’t want to. My chest hollowed, blood rushed to my feet, but my thumb was swiping across the glass surface despite the pooling dread.

Harry answered immediately.

“Hey, I've been worried, what's going on?” He urged in a hushed but desperate tone.

“I’m sorry, I'm okay,” I traced the line of my trousers with my thumbnail nervously. I wondered if Harry was at home or not.

I heard him take a deep breath, “You’re okay?” There were a few beats of silence, “Where are you,

Nina?”

“London Westfield,” I said softly.

“London ...” He paused, his voice almost sounding received for a moment like he could conjure a reason why I might have gone there, “Why are you out there?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered pathetically, but it was true. The line was silent for a few painful minutes.

"I'm confused."

"Can I come over?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"Of course," he said quickly, "What's wrong, though? Has something happened?"

"I'm not crazy," I told Harry.

"You're not," Harry said carefully, I clamped my eyes shut knowing I was putting him in a shitty position, "What's happened? I'll come and pick you up."

“Harry, you don't need to—”

“—I'm already in the car," He told me, "Now, tell me what's wrong."

I let out a frustrated sigh and tears slip out despite my telling myself not to, "It's stupid."

"Not if you're this upset by it."

"I spoke to Gavin."

"You spoke to ... What? How? Where was he?"

"Not in person," I corrected Harry, I could hear the sound of his car in the background, "He called on an unknown number, and I was stupid enough to answer. I know I shouldn't have—

“—Nina, what did he say?” Harry said evenly, but the directness of the question hit me square in the chest.

"I don't want to think about it."

"I'm fifteen minutes away. Please tell me, I don't want this fucker getting between us."

Slowly, I recounted the phone conversation to Harry, who quietly listened without interrupting. It was more upsetting the second time around, I found myself unable to believe it happened. To think I had let myself be treated that way at any point was shameful and by the time I finished telling Harry, I very much wished I hadn't started.

"I'm sorry," Harry said through a sigh, "You're not crazy, and you don't owe him a thing. Did he threaten you at all?"

I thought back over it all, "No, but I don't think hanging upon him was a good idea. He'll say more online now."

"And he'll only look like a bigger dickhead," Harry grumbled, "Hanging up was the right thing to do, you don't have to listen to his shit anymore, Nina. I've just parked, where are you?"

I told Harry my location as best I could, not having to wait very long for him to appear in my line of vision behind the piano player. He spotted me almost immediately as well, his face pulled into a frowned, worried one that I felt guilty for creating. Still, there was a lifting inside my chest at seeing him. His hair was slightly damp from a shower, and he was in comfortable clothes. I stayed seated until he was a few steps away, and my name fell from his lips, then I was up on my feet and pressed against his chest within moments.

Harry's arms wound around my back, and he rested his chin on the top of my head, "You are amazing and beautiful and talented and so loved, Nina. What he says doesn't count anymore. We're going to get you a new phone number, and if he starts spurting any more shit online, we'll take things further."

"I feel so stupid," I said quietly. "How did I let Gavin into my life in the first place?"

Harry cupped my face in his hands and bent down to be at my eye level, "We're not torturing ourselves with those kinds of thoughts, Nina. We're going back to celebrating that article because I won't have you shrinking yourself because of anyone else, myself included."

I looked at him for a few moments, seeing nothing but sincerity and belief there.

"I should have called you earlier." A smile teased his lips, "Yeah, but you called me, so that's a win."

"I'm sorry."

Harry placed a soft kiss against my lips, "Not necessary. You hungry? I'll buy you chicken nuggets on the way home."

+++

Royal Festival Hall was completely sold out.

My dad organised incredible floor seats for the six of us. Harry and I met Rodger, Max, Gemma and Ned at a restaurant nearby for dinner beforehand, so by the time, we arrived for the performance we were all well into enjoying each other's company.

As we followed an usher down the aisle to be shown our seats, Harry shuffled up behind me and took my hand in his, "Did I say yet how stunning you are?"

"Yes," I kept my eyes ahead but tilted my mouth his way so I could say it quietly, "You did."

"Phew," He said dramatically, squeezing my fingers. "Just checking."

By some incredible force of nature, Harry managed to pull me from the rut I was sure I was destined for before it happened. We spent the night before, at his house, I had a bath, and we watched 101 Dalmatians afterwards, Harry gently prodding me every so often to measure where I was at. I cried a few more times, Gavin's harsh words ringing in my ears even when I woke up the next morning.

Harry dragged me out of the house early, he went for a run while I walked through the Heath loosely following him. He ran literal laps around me and despite all his best attempts, he wasn't able to convince me to join him for anything more rigorous.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, and it was time to start getting ready for dinner with my flatmates and Gemma and Ned, I felt reassured and nearly entirely back to normal. The ugliness still existed somewhere, but Harry managed to drag me into the present and firmly plant me there. Nothing Gavin had said to me changed Harry or me.

I took a quick photo of the stage from our seats and sent it through to my family group chat. Harry leaned over from his seat next to me and briefly dropped his head on my shoulder. He watched my screen as I sent my brother a rude emoji and then sent my dad a good luck text. I was beside myself with excitement at the prospect of watching him lead this calibre of an orchestra.

"Open your girls chat," Harry rumbled right by my ear. Without thinking I did as I was told, fingers hovering over the screen, waiting to see what Harry would say to me to type. "Tell them to keep the first weekend of February free, I'd like them to come down for my birthday if they'd like to."

"Harry," I turned my head to look at him, "Really?"

"Yeah," He nodded earnestly, "I haven't really planned anything yet, but I'll do something. I'd like them there."

"Not just for my sake?"

"Not just for your sake," Harry reassured, "They're your people, and so they mean a lot to me as well."

Ladies, Harry's birthday is in a few weeks, and he'd love it if you could make it?

"Tell them there'll be free accommodation, food and alcohol," He nudged me, nodding at the iMessage I just sent. "I'll pay for them to fly down if that's easier. They can stay at mine."

"You don't have to do that, Harry, they'll come down on the train."

Harry dropped his palm onto my thigh, "I don't want to put them out. And it's not cheap getting down here, I know."

All expenses covered, so he says. The first weekend in Feb. He's offering tours of his linen cupboard as well. x

Harry laughed as he read over my shoulder, "Good one."

"Thanks," I replied brightly, locking the phone after checking it was on silent and dropping it into Harry's suit pocket between us. "And thank you for inviting them ... You and them getting on is a big deal to me."

"I know."

"I've had to unpack a lot of shame after Gavin, and I've always been wary of what they might think of me seeing someone else, whether they’d trust me again," I told him.

Harry squeezed my thigh, "I'm happy you have them. They're mad about you."

"Mad is right," I rolled my eyes, "You may come to regret inviting them. Once there's an open bar, not a lot can stop Bel and Georgie."

He wriggled his eyebrows at me, "Sounds brilliant."

Just as I was about to reply the house lights dropped and a hush came over the concert hall. Before the announcements started I curled my hand around to the other side of Harry's face and directed it towards me, he had just enough time to blink down at me in the dark before I pulled him closer for a kiss.

"Thank you," I said, pressing my lips against his again, "You're magic."

He gave me a dopey smile and then took my hand in his, resting it on his thigh gently. I stole it back from him briefly a few moments later to join the applause for my dad walking out onto the stage. The suite was Haydn’s ‘An Imaginary Orchestra Journey’ by Sir Simon Rattle, and I knew it was one of his favourites. That was the benefit of being the level my father was, he could walk into the London Symphony Orchestra and tell them what to play.

The orchestra was led through a warm-up, bubbling my chest and had me wriggling in my seat in excitement. Then, my dad turned to face the audience and stepped up to the microphone.

“Good evening,” He said, “My name is Richard Lawrence, and I’m so delighted to be here on holiday with you from my home at the Chamber Orchestra of Europe,” He smiled as the room swelled into applause again, “Thank you. We have a fun one for you tonight, I know! An orchestra having fun what a scandal!” The players chuckled behind him, “We’re bringing you a selection from Franz Joseph Haydn’s best movements, compiled by my good friend Sir Simon Rattle. This is ‘An Imaginary Orchestra Journey’.”

He turned back to his orchestra and raised his arms, waiting for the applause to come to a close before he dramatically dropped his hands and picked them up again, bringing the opening notes of the suite with him.

It wasn’t a suite that I didn’t have committed to memory, so sitting and listening on almost new ears was transformative. The players were fantastic, which I already had insight into having sat in on a few rehearsals throughout the work. Soloists propped the whole body up, and I shivered my way through parts. My dad was right, though, it was a fun suite.

“This is so cool,” Harry whispered into my ear halfway through. I turned to face him, and in the dim light, he watched the tears streaming down my face, Harry’s lips curved up and he scrunched his nose at me. He took my hand in his and turned back to keep watching.

By the end of the performance, I was on my feet applauding dad with hands in the air, and my makeup all cried off. I got a wink and a wave from my dad who searched us out in the audience at final bows. Arrangements were already made about where we needed to go afterwards to meet him, given that there were so many musicians in the greenrooms going backstage was tricky, I was given instructions as to how to get into the conductor's studio.

After giving my name at a fire exit, an assistant led us through greenrooms to a back suite that sat under the stage.

"This is incredible," Harry said, stepping in behind me and taking in the room, "This is definitely one of the best green rooms I've ever been in."

"It's pretty swish," My dad said happily from the other side of the room, his suit jacket draped over the small sofa, "I suppose if I pretended it might feel quite rock and roll."

"You were amazing, dad," I told him, rushing over for a hug, "Your players were incredible, and you kept them together, magnificently."

"Thank you, my sweet," He smiled, graciously accepting repeated congratulations from everyone else. I introduced him to Gemma and Ned, who both thanked him profusely for their tickets. "Now, what are you all up to now?" Dad asked us all, "I'm getting taken out by a few of the board, and I'm sure I could bring a posse such as yourselves?"

"We need to head off, unfortunately," Gemma spoke up first, "Ned is on night shift tomorrow."

Similarly, Rodger and Max both had either early work commitments or a big day ahead of them so didn't want a late night.

"We'll come," Harry offered readily, looking down at me, "Right?"

"If it's really not an issue?" I asked.

"It's absolutely not, my dear," My dad said, "And I dare say taking you both along will impress them enough to have me easily in work for the next decade. If you can just give me fifteen minutes to change and go see my players, I'll meet you in the Foyer."

The group said their farewells and Harry, and I joined them, we stood in the foyer for a while chatting. Gemma gave me a hug with the promise of catching up during the week without the boys. Then, it was just Harry, and I left waiting in a near-empty foyer.

"I stand by my comments months ago about loving seeing you cry over music," Harry told me once we were alone, resting his elbows on the cocktail table we were sitting at, "It's magic. I adore it."

I grinned, "My crying my way through our first date does make for a good story."

"I'm disappointed not to have made you cry myself with my Christmas gig," Harry smirked at me, "I have a right mind to be offended."

"Get an orchestra behind you and I just might," I returned quickly.

+++

Four days later, Harry was standing at the front desk chatting to a receptionist when I arrived at the recording studio. She spotted me immediately, and Harry followed where her attention left him for, an instant smile appearing on his face.

“Hello!” He called out to me, pushing off where he had been comfortably leaning against the desk to take a couple of steps towards me.

“Hi,” I gushed, trumpet case under my arm and a heavy backpack from rehearsals slipping off my arm.

“Let me take that,” Harry took the bag from my shoulder and pulled me in for a hug with his other arm, “Hi,” He kissed my head, and the leant back to look at me, “You get here okay?” I’d been here before to see Rodger, but instead of pointing that out, I smiled and nodded.

“I’ve got your pass,” Harry said, whipping a lanyard out of his pocket and adorning my neck with it before he took my hand and started walking, “Thanks, Jen!” He called back over his shoulder as we left the entrance.

Harry was bringing me in to work on the song that I contributed to all those months ago. I really didn’t know what more I was expected to do, from what Harry told me about his last week or so writing it was the lyrics of the song that he was working on the most. Numerous times I’d told him I didn’t need credit, but he was adamant.

“In here,” Harry directed me to a door, and he dropped my hand to prop it open for me, “After you.”

I walked in and immediately froze, there had to be at least ten or twelve people in the room. Harry nudged me in gently, making a quip about not lurking in doorways. He walked into the left where there was a large sitting area, the studio directly in front.

“Babes,” Rodger was to the right in front of the sound desk, I recognised the tech working with him who also gave me a nod.

“Hey,” I said, siding up to Rodger but throwing a tentative look back over my shoulder where Harry was in the middle of the bulk of the people in the room. “I’m—

A warm hand slipping into mine from behind, “Neens, I want you to meet some people.”

“We’ll start soon,” Rodger told me kindly, watching as I was pulled away.

Three people were working on laptops at a small free-standing table, another two on phones sat on one of the sofas, and then three men standing. They were wearing remnants of business suits they had obviously unassembled as the day went on; cuffs were folded up, ties and jackets had been shed, and collars were undone. I wondered if Harry could feel my hands shaking from the one he was holding onto, but if he did, he didn’t let on. I tried to wear a pleasant smile, but there was a sinking feeling that I was about to find myself well out of my depth.

Harry introduced me to his manager, the head of his record label and his business manager.

I felt sick.

Harry happily went on about how excited he was for today, and how this song was probably his favourite of the bunch they were working on for release. He interrupted to add more detail to my deliberately modest answer about what my schedule was like working in a professional orchestra. I hadn’t wanted to seem like I was showing off about myself in front of these arguably more impressive people, but Harry seemed giddy on the whole exchange happening. They were all lovely to me, I expected nothing less from people had chosen to work so closely with, but still, I was intimidated beyond belief and blind-sighted by them all being there at all.

“Excuse me,” I eventually managed to be courageous enough to say, “I’m just going to go to the bathroom.”

“I’ll—

—I know where it is, Harry,” I squeezed his arm, “I’ll be right back.”

I hurried out the room, and a little way down the hall before stopping at a small bench pushed up against the wall. I sat down slowly and rested my head back against the wall. I completely missed the sound of someone following me until I felt the cushion of the seat expand as Rodger sat down too.

“Really had your skates on getting out there,” He said evenly, “Everything okay?”

I pointed back to the studio a few metres away, “The head of his fucking label is in that room.”

Rodger’s expression softened, “He’s not here to intimidate you, Nina. They’re checking in on how recording is going and Harry wanted them to meet you.”

“Who the hell even has a business manager, Rodger?” I added quickly.

Rodger smiled, “Someone who’s in Harry’s position who cares about his career and the careers of the people who work for him.”

“I really don’t know why I’m here,” I hissed at Rodger. “All I did was change the key and alter a melody, and now I’m supposed to what? Pull a pop song out of my arse in front of a room full of people?”

“You fixed a dying song, Nina,” Rodger didn’t blink at my freak out, “The song is yours as far as Harry is concerned, it would be locked on a hard drive somewhere without you. Just because it feels like breathing to you doesn’t mean it’s not miraculous to the rest of us. I could never have done what you did, and neither could Harry. The song wasn’t going to exist and so if it’s going to it’s only right that you oversee it.”

“I don’t even remember what I did.”

“Liar,” Rodger shot back, “You could play it perfectly with your eyes closed, even if you haven’t thought of it since that day. Don’t bullshit me about forgetting a song, you couldn’t if you tried.”

“I’m just a trumpet player from Blackpool,” I said softly, “What am I doing here?”

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” He replied, “I understand Harry’s team being here is daunting, but we’re gonna go back in there, you’re going to sit in front of the piano and look super cute in the headphones, and it’ll just be you and me at the desk, got it?”

I shut my eyes and nodded, “Don’t let me look bad.”

“That would be impossible,” Rodger stood up, and when I opened my eyes, he was holding a hand down for me. "C'mon."

I let him pull me to my feet and accepted the hug he held his arms out for, "I need to do a nervous wee."

"Off you go then," Rodger chuckled, "I'll get started setting things up in there."

After using the bathroom, I spent a few moments inspecting myself in the bathroom mirror, and I decided I didn’t look half as frazzled as I felt. An excited but sickening churning in my stomach was somehow disconnected from the thoughts in my head telling me making music with Harry was going to be a good thing, probably even a great thing.

So, taking stumbled steps and breathing in almost too deeply, I fisted my hands and placed one leg in front of the other. By the time I was down the corridor and at the door to the studio, I was breathing evenly, and my stomach felt more settled than it had all day.

I walked straight in, and as I passed Rodger at the sound desk I pointed in at the piano, he nodded without removing his headphones and waved me to go in.

The studio air was fresh, but the unmistakable smell of instruments filled my lungs. I stretched my fingers out as I approached the grand piano over to one side and sat down at the stool, pushing it in further so I could reach the peddles comfortably.

"Hear me?" Rodger asked through the set when I put the headphones over my head.

I held up a thumb his way.

"Brill," He said, "Take a few to get settled, and I'll corral the troops out here."

I stared at the keys for a brief moment before placing my fingers across them, fanning through a quiet set of scales and experimenting with how sensitive the keys were when I built the volume. The sound was beautiful, almost as beautiful as the baby grand at my parent's house. I closed my eyes and played around with a few melodies, humming where I thought a voice might sit above them.

"Rodger," I said, waiting for him to look up through the glass window, "Can I open the cover?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I'll come help, it's heavy."

He shuffled into the room a moment later, flipping a few clasps around the piano and then counting down so we could lift it in time.

"Thanks," I sat back down and played a series of major seventh chords to test out how the sound changed.

"What are you thinking? We going to get into piano bashing?" Rodger asked, crossing his arms over his chest and watching my hands.

"Not quite that extreme," I frowned and leaned forward to reach for the treble strings in front of me, "I think harmonic upper partials would give a raspy, ghosty sound that fits though, right? Like having violins without having to deal with violin players."

Rodger laughed at my dig, and I grinned at him, playing the melody from Harry's song while gently touching the overtone positions on the strings of the corresponding keys. A completely different sound filled the studio.

"That sounds sick," Harry appeared next to Rodger and peered into the piano cavity to see what my hands were doing. "Are you allowed to do that?"

"You are if you're Nina," Rodger hit Harry affectionately on the shoulder and then walked away citing a need to finish setting something up.

I stopped my experimenting and sat back on the piano seat, watching Harry watch me.

"Songs about pianos," He signalled softly.

I smiled at him and quickly found the opening chords of the first song that came into my head, "The piano is not firewood yet, they try to remember but still they forget that the heart beats in threes, just like a waltz and nothing can stop you from dancing."

When I paused and raised an eyebrow at him in a challenge, Harry arched his back to belt out his offering, "It's nine o'clock on a Saturday!"

"Stop! Wait," I laughed, ghosting the piano keys to find where I needed to start, "Let me play you an intro."

I played the intro to the iconic Billy Joel song once through and nodded Harry in when he needed to sing, he was smiling the whole time and miming having a harmonica up to his mouth. I stopped after the chorus and pulled my hands away from the key, wondering if this was how his time with Rodger usually went. I didn't like the thought I could be inserting myself as a silly distraction.

"Nerves flushed out?" Harry asked, showing more astuteness to where my head was at than I had given him credit for.

"Tell me where you're at with the song," I prompted him quietly, shuffling to one side of my seat and opening a space for him to join me.

"Well," Harry started, his thigh nestling warmly against mine, "I've completely rewritten the second verse and bridge—

—Tell me about it in terms of the music," I nudged my elbow into his side, "I don't do lyrics."

"Oh," He parroted, and then laughed at himself, "Right. Of course, well ... I'd like it to sound ... Hopeful?"

"So, we'll do a build," I suggested. "You're a guitar man, so I guess you'd—

—I think I want to just have the piano?"

"Just piano?" I questioned.

"Maybe not just piano," Harry swallowed slowly, "But just not be guitar-heavy. I'd like to include some ... Other instruments, I think."

"Other instruments?" I asked, amused by how hesitant he was with the term, his cheeks reddened when he realised I was mildly teasing him for his apprehension. "You don't have to do that because I'm here."

"Play it where we left it last time," Harry nodded at my hands, he cleared his throat and hummed for half a second before singing along with what I had started playing.

He sang in his chest voice, low and sweet with chilling resonance. It was truly beautiful, and I smiled at the way each line of the lyrics played perfectly into the next. Harry closed his eyes as I played into a pre-chorus of sorts, barely reaching to effortlessly switch up to his head voice for the end of each line. I watched him, so I knew when to extend the phrase or move to match his pitch, but Harry kept his eyes closed while he sang.

It wasn't until he fumbled over two lines in a row that he stopped and gave me a bashful smile, "I don't think what I rewrote fits. Let me go get my notebook and—Hey!"

I looked up toward the window to see who had earned Harry's light whine. There was a line of people at the window watching Harry and me at the piano. His manager gave Harry two thumbs up, but Harry flipped them all the bird as he joined them in the room to collect what he needed to continue.

"That sounded great," Rodger walked over to me and then launched into a whole bunch of the technical aspects of what we were about to start doing. A lot of it made sense, and I had been exposed to before, but I had questions about specific parts that he was patient in answering.

When Harry came back, he settled himself off to my left, where the recording mic was set up. He left the room again and returned with a pitcher of water and two glasses, placing it on the floor between us without saying a word. I watched him take a sip and then stepped up to the mic and slip on his own set of headphones.

"Okay, Nina," Rodger said to us through the glass again, "I've got the automatic transcription program on you, so we'll be getting the melodies down in real-time. I know," He assured me before I could protest, "You'll be able to manually edit things after. On the dark side, we're more about the recording than having a perfect transcription, yeah?"

"I didn't say a thing," I mumbled, embarrassed.

"Harry, mate," Rodger addressed him, "Let's go right through once, doesn't matter if we miss bits. Just give Nina the chance to play it out, and by the second take she'll be set."

"That's annoyingly impressive," Harry told him, adjusting where his headphones sat, "Is there a support group you can recommend?"

"I can hear you both."

"I'll get Max to put you on the mailing list," Rodger promised Harry, setting up a click track to guide our timing but then turning it right down so I could only just hear it.

Harry continued to banter with Rodger as the sound was tested, "Good, I'm going to need maximum support," he spoke into the microphone. "Test, this is a test. I am testing the microphone."

Rodger gave Harry a thumbs up and told me to play something on the piano so he could alter the levels on the boom mics positioned over the open cover. To spite them both, I started tapping out the basic tune of Ode to Joy, not looking at either of them as I did so.

I heard Rodger laugh through the headset, and Harry clapped beside me, "Genius at work."

While they both still were laughing, I switched to Mozart's Sonata No. 17, which shut them up very quickly. I looked over at Harry and gave him a smug smile as I played without hesitation or missing a note. He tried to hold my gaze, but his eyes zeroed in on my hands and were transfixed by their movements. I stopped playing abruptly, and he playfully narrowed his eyes at me.

"Yes?" I asked him sweetly.

"Put him in his place, he's a shit, Nina," Another voice spoke up.

Harry and I looked up to find his manager at the glass with a headset on, "You've never spoken wearing that before!"

"I've never felt the need to," was the reply to Harry's exclamation. "You usually behave yourself."

+++

Two and a half hours later, we had a song.

"It's beautiful," I wound my arms around Harry's waist where he had me tucked under his arm. My fingers played with the cords of our headphones where we stood together, listening to a rough cut of just Harry's isolated vocals.

"Give me a second," Rodger said, distracted by trying to layer the piano and backing vocals over Harry's track."Everyone ready?"

Most of Harry's team left throughout the afternoon, the people on phones and laptops had gone as well as the label head. Harry's manager, business manager and a videographer remained. His manager stood and came over to the desk, but the other two stayed seated on the sofa.

"Okay," Rodger decided he was sorted, clicking on his screen back to the start and pressing play.

Harry tugged the ends of my hair, ghosting his fingers up and down my neck as the opening notes filled our ears. We stood together behind Rodger sitting at the sound desk, the song playing out where we had grown used to hearing sections cut up and altered what felt like a hundred times over.

In the end, Harry hadn't entirely stayed true to his 'piano only' idea, I had managed to convince him to add in some strings which were computerised for now but would be live recorded down the track. We also ended up with bass drums to help with the build to the bridge. Throughout the afternoon, the piano part had been stripped back because I refused to let Harry's gorgeous lyrics drown in a sea of complicated notes and melodies.

The end result was a haunting but euphoric song that took Harry out of his comfort zone and showcased the raspiness and dimension of his voice. It was hopeful like he hoped earlier it would be, but it also gave voice to a vulnerable side of him. It wasn't a song with a strong personal narrative, he had written on the universal truth of life and love and the simplicity behind humanity that we rarely pay mind to.

The song ended, and Rodger slowly turned back to us, his face immediately lit up, "Look at you both!"

"What?" I sniffed, bringing the sleeve of my jumper up to my face, I craned my neck to look at Harry who had his hand covering his mouth.

When he looked down at me, Harry's eyes were wet, and he took a deep breath to steady himself. We both took in each other's faces and then started laughing. I hadn't seen Harry have such an emotional reaction to music, but I knew exactly what he was thinking about mine.

"I see tears, I've done it!" Harry did a little fist punch with his free arm.

"Excuse me," I cried out, "I cry all the damn time if anything I'm the one who's 'done it'. Look at you, you're a mess!"

"It's catching," Harry replied simply, leaning down to press one kiss on my cheek, "Thank you," he said to just me.

"The song is gorgeous," I told him.

"It sure is," He confirmed with an edge of wonder in his voice.

FEEDBACK MAKES ME NOT REGRET WRITING 8K WORDS FOR YOU

[oriphine]

Speaking Openly

It's been far too long since you've been able to speak to Loki, openly and with your whole heart on your sleeve.

Now you get your opportunity.

(Mild spoilers for Endgame!)

Inspired by this prompt!      If someone would have told me in 2011 that I would still be in Loki hell in this, the year 2019, I would neeeever have believed them. Crazy how time flies ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Read it on AO3!

The dim grey sky was a nearly sure sign it would rain.

You certainly hoped it wouldn't, or the visit you were making today would have to be cut short. Nevertheless, the telltale whipping of wind around you offered little sense of hope.

Not that there was much left of that nowadays.

       Dry grass crunched under your feet as you traveled to your destination. There was someone you had to meet up with, a discussion between you long overdue by this point. Long had the two of you danced around seeing one another, avoiding having to face all the unsaid feelings shared between divided lovers. You were tired of it. Once you had been angry with him for pushing you away, and furious with yourself for not pushing back harder. But the time for anger was long over, you conceded. Now, you just wanted to talk. No matter how candid, how cruel, how heartbreaking it was. You needed to speak with him.

       The confidence that had driven you began to wane, however, as you approached the spot Thor had told you his brother was. Unable to find Loki yourself, you had asked Thor where it was that Loki had taken to resting. With glassy eyes he had given you the directions to this place, a solitary cliff with a rocky bottom a relatively short walking distance from New Asgard; nothing around but the crashing of waves and the open plains. You couldn't help but think of how it suited the trickster. You paused a moment, taking a deep breath to steel yourself before your cowardice drove you to run away from this; to run from him. With a renewed confidence you strode to where Loki lied. You stared at him a moment, intense gaze fixated on your subject, before allowing yourself to soften. There was no need for a cold demeanor here. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, gnawing it lightly while trying to figure out what you needed to say. Loki had always been the one good with words, after all.

       "...Hey." Well, not the smoothest, but it would suffice. You had gotten this far, so you might as well continue. "I've, uh...I've missed you." The lack of resposne from your lover was like a punch to the gut. You had assumed this would be the case, and yet your heart hurt no less from it. Since you were here anyways, you decided you would stay for awhile, storm be damned. Taking a seat on the grass, you looked at Loki a little longer, before absently twirling some grass between your fingers.

       "Do you remember what you told me awhile back? When I was upset because my magic wasn't working like I wanted it to, and instead of telling anyone it was going wrong I just bottled it up? And then after awhile I got so worked up about it that I accidentally blew up a section of the library? I thought that librarian was going to kill the both of us then and there..." A bittersweet laugh escaped your lips, and you shook your head at the memory. The ensuing chase had been a massive adrenaline rush, and you were sure the only reason you hadn't gotten an even harsher reprimand from Loki was because the librarian had been plenty terrifying enough.

       "After we had gotten away, you grabbed my shoulders and made me look you straight in the eye. You told me to come straight to you if I ever did something I couldn't fix. So, uh...here I am."

       The wind picked up and tousled your hair as you swallowed hard, turning you head to look away from Loki. Squeezing your eyes shut, you took a few deep breaths, and when you opened them once more you couldn't bring yourself to look at him.

       "I messed up this time, Loki. It's, uh...it's bad. Really bad. And I don't think that there's any way you can fix this one." Fingers picking at the sleeves of your jacket, you cursed the tears that began to fill your eyes, facing Loki again with a bitter smile. "I don't think there's a way that anyone can fix this."

       The silence was eating away at your heart now, the strength in your foundation crumbling away and replaced with a hollow hole where Loki's own heart once filled. You felt a rain drop fall onto your hand, then another onto the tip of your nose. Wiping away a drop from under your eyes, you couldn't be sure if it was a tear or a raindrop, and a desperate laugh jumped out of your throat.

"Look, my love. Even the sky cries for us."

       Rain drops fell ever steadier as you sat, listening to the waves crash against the rocks and the wind howl around you. A distant chime sounded from a boat drifting toward New Asgard, and as your gaze wandered to settle upon it, your mind drifted to its crew. Who have they lost? Did they feel the same deep sorrow that crept into your mind at every turn?

       "The fault..." You started weakly, then cleared your throat to try again, "the fault isn't mine alone, this time. Although I find myself trying to blame myself for everything, regardless. It would drive you absolutely mad to deal with my moping." A fond smile drifted upon your lips as you imagined Loki having to listen to you whine. The way he would roll his eyes, telling you in a none too kindly way to suck it up and deal with it. How he would show you little sympathy, but still stroke your hair as you gave him a hug that you so desperately need. How you would take his hand and drag him to your bedroom, hearing only teasing about how bedding him wouldn't solve all of your problems, before you would make him shut up with your lips pressed to his and the closing of your door...

A sob escaped your lips before you could stop it. "I'm so sorry, Loki."

       Tears flowed from your eyes unbidden now, mixing with the steady rain and dripping onto the grass. You voice shook as you continued addressing him. "I don't know what I could have done, but I'm sure I could have prevented something like this from ever happening. M-maybe there was something I could have done to stop Thanos. Maybe I could have tried to get a stone myself a-and kept him from ever getting them all. What if there was a way I could have killed him myself, and I never did? What if all this is all my fault, Loki? What if I could...I could..." You hiccuped through your tears, fighting to get the rest of you words out.

"What i-i-if I could h-have prevented your death?"

       Another sob pushed through and you leaned on the ground, trying to fight off the agony pulsing through your heart. Your hand raised to brush against the mossy rock that Thor had chosen as a head stone for Loki's "grave", the lack of body making it hard to set up a proper burial site. Desperately you tried to sense any bit of Loki's magic, anything that could possibly tie him to the spot, but it was silent. He wasn't here, just as you already knew. His corpse was drifting in space somewhere, and all the magic would be long gone. This visit was just a confirmation of what your heart didn't want to comprehend.

       "Everything is gone, Loki. Everything we've ever known changed, in the blink of an eye. Everyone is just trying to come to terms with what's going on, and we're really not doing so well at it. Honestly, you would probably think we were all so pathetic." You sniffed and wiped pointlessly at your tears, shaking your head. "I would say you were right, but...I really don't know where we go from here."

       Around you the wind began to pick up, sending a chill right through you to settle within your bones. Tugging your jacket closer to you, you tried to find any warmth you might have had left, but you knew it would be futile. Your visit was going to have to come to a close. Nodding solemnly to yourself, you tried to reign your emotions back in.

       "I know that recently things between us were kind of weird. I suppose that was going to be kind of a given, considering our lives in general were, uh...really weird." You chuckled. That certainly was an understatement. "But I hope you knew, even at the very end, no matter how things stood between us..." You swallowed thickly again, trying to keep your tears at bay for these last few precious moments, "I hope you knew that I loved you. That I always loved you. And that I always will."

       A bout of thunder rolled above you, and you knew your time here was up. Pressing a kiss to your fingertips, you rested them once more upon Loki's rock, before rising to stand. Lifting your hood and shoving your hands into your pockets, you began your farewells.

       "I should be going now, I guess. Back to New Asgard. We're trying to pick up the pieces the best we can." You stared at the town in the far distance, grimacing. "It's nothing like Asgard was, that's for sure. We're trying to make it livable, at least, but uh...Thor is really not taking this well. At all. I think even you would be sparing him some concern if you saw him. Yeah, it really is that bad." Shaking your head, you turned back to smile wryly at Loki. "I'll try to help him the best I can. Enough for the both of us. And I'll try to visit you more often, it's just...it's not easy."

      The boat arriving in New Asgard was nearly docking now, and you sighed. "They're going to want my help. I really do have to go." You started backing away, not quite ready to turn your back on your love until you were fully finished. "I love you, Loki. Try not to get into too much trouble without me, understand?" A strong gust of wind nearly blew you over, and you scoffed, "I'm just going to take that as a sign, or something. I'll see you later."

       Tromping your way through the wet grass, you ran your sleeve over your face, clearing off the traces of your breakdown. While you still felt the pain in your chest, you also felt some of the guilt lift from your mind. You had got to say your piece, and for now that would have to be enough. There would always be a Loki-shaped hole in your heart, but now was the time to learn to live with it. After all, if there was an afterlife you were going to meet him in, you would never live down the mocking you would receive if you didn't press on.

For him, you would continue. And for Thor, and the rest of your friends, you would live on.

And for all of them, and yourself, you would thrive.

[irondadgroupie]

Bohemian Rhapsody: Chapter 1

A/N: This is the scene chapter that inspired me and @intoresus to write this story. As you will see, yeah, this is our cup of tea. Hope you enjoy, from what you can among all the angst.

Tony was awake through it all.

Maybe if he had not been so into singing, he would have seen it sooner, or even sensed it.

From the forest, a deer jumped to the road, its wide and innocent eyes staring straight at him.

Tony had no time to plan his actions, it was all on reflex: his arm shielded Peter while his leg slammed on the brakes. The tires screeched; the deer tried to leap back but the collision was inevitable. Car hit the animal and spiraled out of control. Tony tried to steer back towards the road but karma was against him.

The vehicle crashed down a steep hill and rolled over too many times to count. Air bags inflated and tried to hold the passengers in place as loose belongings slammed into seats and plastic parts.  

Their ride ended in a lake.

Tony took in a deep breath, then another and opened his eyes: the windows gave nothing but darkness and diminishing light. His shoes were wet.

Awareness slammed back into him.

“Fuck!” He screamed and his voice echoed in the space. All the sounds were clearer: his breathing, the static of the radio and the quickening beats of his heart.  

“Do- don’t worry, Peter,” Tony stuttered and gulped to gain control over his voice. “We’ll get-”

He looked at his right, expecting a pair of scared eyes and a silently panicking teenager. What he found was Peter, neck limp and head hanging against his chest, with a bleeding wound on his temple.

This - this was too much.

“Peter!” Tony struggled with his seat belt and crawled clumsily closer to the boy. Water was steadily filling their air space but for a moment the man forgot about it.  

“Kiddo,” he whispered urgently like the boy was only sleeping during a crisis, which was exactly what Peter was doing: sleeping so soundly. “Peter,” Tony first checked the boy’s neck for possible fractures. He had minimal knowledge of spinal injuries but he deemed a break would be easy to detect. Once deemed safe, he straightened Peter’s neck, opening the constricted airway and the boy reflexively took in a breath.

“Good,” The man nodded with a smile and cradled the boy’s face in his hands. “That’s a good boy!”

Peter was alive and breathing, he could deal with anything thrown at his way as long as the kid would heal.

Water reached Peter’s knees and the car jolted from side to side as they hit the bottom of the lake. It was completely dark aside from dim car lights.

“Alright then,” Tony tried to keep up bravado with overly cheery commentary. He unlocked Peter’s seat belt and caught the limp body as Peter tilted to the side. “We need to get out of here.”

It was simple physics: pressure of the water was so strong car doors could not be opened until water filled the inside of the car and balanced the difference in pressure. Tony was secretly grateful Peter was out cold because the boy’s claustrophobia would most likely kill either him or both of them. Tony did not have a fear of tight spaces but the situation was making him develop one rapidly.

“Just a little while longer, kiddo,” He rested Peter’s head on his shoulder, keeping both their mouths and noses in the air. “Hang on tight, okay?”

A part of him wanted the wait to be over so they could get out. A larger part of him wanted to wait for the rescue. Maybe by some miracle water would stop coming in and they wouldn’t have to fight their way to the surface alone.

Tony spat out some water, hoisting Peter’s head higher. He could hold his breath but the boy had no control over his throat and muscles.

What if the car doors wouldn’t open? What if water filled the car and they would both suffocate slowly and the team on arriving to the site would have to bring up their stiff, rigid bodies?  

Tony cursed himself for not taking his armor or gauntlets with him. The one day he actually needed extra help and he leaves them at the workshop!

“When this is over,” Tony laughed bitterly in the bluish light,”I’m never taking off the wrist gauntlets. Never ever, I’ll even sleep with them on. IronMan would have already helped us out but I-” Tony adjusted his grip as Peter began to slip away, he had taken off the boy’s coat but he was still so heavy ”I can’t do anything.”

Peter did not answer aside from steady breathing. The wound on his head was bleeding less and Tony took it as a promising sign.

They only had a few seconds of air left.  

“Okay, kiddo, time to take in a deep breath.”

Tony filled his lungs as his other hand closed Peter’s mouth and nose.

And so they were both under the water.

The last few seconds felt like decades, and his body seemed to have conversations with itself. His heart screamed a mantra that consisting of nothing but “Peterpeterpeter”, his lungs added a bottom line of “Breathebreathebreathe” Then his ears filled with painful static, he could practically hear his blood flow in his veins. Tony’s eyes took a second to adjust to the murky darkness. His arm was wrapped around Peter with a hand still over the boy’s airways: if the kid was to suffocate it was best to do it dry than water in his lungs. He located the door handle and pushed.

Nothing.

Tony’s heart skipped a beat. He tried to ground his legs against the gear shift and pushed again. He managed to open the door slightly before the pressure got too huge.

No!

He should have checked the door before, made sure the crash hadn’t harmed the mechanism.  

Why hadn’t he - after years of working with the strangest of inventions

- thought about getting his car water-resistant in the first place? His guilt complex invited himself to the song in his head: “Idiotidiotidiot” and his brain quickly shut it down. This was probably number one on the “worst places to get distracted in” list. Continuing to curse in his mind, Tony let go of Peter and forced his eyes away from the sight of his kid floating lifelessly in the water. He grasped the handle and positioned his shoulder against the window, ready to rip through the steel if need came.  

Come on, come on, fucking open!

The door obeyed his mental commands. The screech was drowned by the water as the door gave in and allowed its prisoners to escape. Tony almost let out a breath of relief until he jolted back to reality. He turned around, grabbed the kid from under his arms and half-swam, half-scrambled out of the vehicle.

A small trail of bubbles floated up from Peter’s nostrils and through a slight opening between his lips. Tony closed the boy’s jaw although he had a feeling Peter’s mouth would open again in a couple of seconds.  

But it seemed necessary at the time.  

Training had included deep-water rescue and Tony considered himself a relatively strong swimmer. Half way to the surface, he began to doubt he had overestimated his endurance. Aside from the bruises and slight injuries from the crash, dragging a lifeless body with him was making the task much more arduous than anticipated.  

His lungs began to rebel. He needed air and for a slight, frightening moment, he seriously considered letting go of Peter and swimming to the surface by himself. It would do no good to let both of them suffocate.

His paternal instincts, Papa-Wolf as Peter so affectionately called his other side, arose with feverish determination.

Peter needed help, he had to try.

He could see the light of the sun.

Safety was not far.

Just a little way.

He adjusted his grip of the boy again and kicked harder with his legs. He reached a hand up.

His fingers met air.

Tony broke the surface and his mouth opened before it was fully out of the water.

He gagged as his mouth filled with foul tasting liquid and- was that a fish? Vomit rose up his throat and the man could not help but spit the acids out. He was in shock, adrenaline making his body shake. He could barely feel his lips.

“Peter,” The man gulped in the air and struggled to lift Peter’s head above the water. Tony kicked with his legs to stay afloat as he stretched Peter’s body the best he could. He supported the boy’s neck with the crook of his arm and opened the small mouth. Peter’s lips had traces of blue in them and water dribbled down the corners of his mouth.  

“Come on, kiddo,” Tony adjusted his hold so that Peter’s airway was properly opened, his neck aligned straight but it had no effect. The boy did not draw breath.

Tony tried to avoid falling into panic. Chances were high that the only reason it worked was because there wasn’t enough oxygen to allow panic to settle.

“Okay,” His almost numb fingers pinched the boy’s nose closed. Tony took a deep breath into his starving lungs but rather than use it himself, he pressed his lips tightly against the boy’s. Warm air traveled down Peter’s throat but Tony could not determine whether it had made it to Peter’s lungs or not. In the worst scenario, he had just blown air into the boy’s stomach and risked him suffocating in his own vomit.

“Come on, come on, Peter,” Tony muttered as he tried to listen to the air being exhaled. He thought he felt something but couldn’t be sure: cold, exhaustion and wind were messing with his senses. “Breathe for me, kiddo,” He forced another breath into Peter’s mouth, praying it would help the boy’s body to remember how it was supposed to work.

His prayers remained either unheard or ignored, with just a wave of warm autumn winds meeting his cheeks.   He almost felt the panic level inside him rise to an unhealthy level, but the reaction luckily didn’t settle, his muscles using most of the air that he almost gasped in.

“You have to stay calm coming out of the water. Wouldn’t be much of a big rescue if you hyperventilate right after coming up.” Natasha’s voice echoed in Tony’s thoughts, and he tried to let his breathing slow to an acceptable pace before moving forward again. There was not much he could do for Peter at the moment - not in the water, anyway. Best he could do was bring them both onto solid ground, and rather quickly.

He tried his best to ignore the fatigue hurling in like a storm when the rush of adrenaline began to ebb slowly but steadily, and his limbs began to quiver.  

Just another few meters. The shore was so close.

Tony’s fingers twitched again, and this time so roughly that he lost grip of Peter for yet another time, with the teenager‘s face sinking underwater for half a second before Tony managed to get hold of him.

“We’re almost there. Just stay with me, kid.” Maybe he’d be better off with saving the air rather than waste it by speaking, but it kept his worst anxieties from settling in. And hearing his voice might even help Peter find his way back to consciousness.

The second Tony’s feet touched dry land, his knees gave in and he fell forward, face burying in the grass. For a moment he doubted he could ever stand up again. The position wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, and all he wanted was to close his eyes and just rest for a second. He’d worked hard enough, hadn’t he?

May Parker’s voice jolted him out of that state, as clearly audible as if she was standing right next to him. If she ever found out he was taking a quick nap instead of helping her nephew, she would literally behead him.  

Half crawling, half walking, he made the final steps before sinking to the ground again, the last bit of energy saved only for dragging Peter’s still motionless body out of the water.

“It’s alright, I got you now.”, he murmured, more to himself than the boy.  

The blue in Peter’s lips had become undeniably visible, his skin pearly white in comparison to the deeply green grass below, the color intensified by the drops of water that their soaked clothes dripped. Tony’s heart sank to his knees and probably even stopped for a beat at the sight and a second passed before he restored his composure.  

No different than training. He pretended. You know what to do, you know how to bring him back around.  

Carefully, he tilted Peter’s head back, hoping, despite knowing better, that he’d started breathing on his own again during the time that had passed between his rescue breaths in the water and bringing him to the shore.  

Hope is a cruel thing when not fulfilled.

This time however, Tony had more time and means to handle the problem that was easily found: In his unconscious state, Peter’s ability to control both his breathing and the natural reflex of closing his mouth when covered by water had died down, causing him not just to swallow water, but to catch everything else a lake provided for its ordinary inhabitants: Leafs, algas - when Tony reached inside to scoop the foreign matters out of the kid’s throat, he even felt some smaller pebbles scratching at his still half numb skin. If they had any more bad luck, the kid might’ve swallowed some more of those, too.

Once the airway was clear, he repositioned Peter’s head a final time, took a deep breath that his lungs greeted with thankfulness before giving the next one to his mentee, using the hand not occupied with pinching his nose shut to rest it on Peter’s chest in hopes of feeling it rise a few centimeters. There was barely any detectable movement at all and the amount of water sputtering out with the reflexive exhale didn’t exactly appear promising either. Tony attempted calming himself with the mental reminder that he needed the water to come out. The second breath did not help either: Peter’s chest was barely rising and he heard gurgling from the boy’s throat as some water dribbled down the sides of his mouth.

“This isn’t working,” Tony breathed heavily and with effort grabbed the boy from under arms. It wasn’t that the kid was heavy, no, he was sturdy but surprisingly light given his muscles; must be a mutation thing. But Tony was already exhausted and the boy’s wet clothing, even without jacket, added unneeded weight that nearly toppled them both over.

“You’ve got to work with me, kid,” The man sat Peter up onto his lap and wrapped his arms around his middle. He fisted his right hand and covered it with his left, he could feel how swollen Peter’s stomach was. He had no time to waste.

He pulled in.

At first there was nothing but a grunt from the boy and gurgling.

“Okay, again, come on, Peter.”

He used more force, made the movement sudden, sharp but pressed long and then foamy water spurted out from Peter’s mouth and nostrils.

Tony’s heart leaped: “Yes! Good! Good, Peter!”

He continued the Heimlich maneuver for a while, making sure Peter’s head was hanging low so the water couldn’t run back down the boy’s throat and suffocate him. Foam covered Peter’s already wet clothes and some made it to Tony’s sleeves as he pounded the boy’s middle, willing his lungs and stomach to empty. 

“Throw it up, kiddo, all out,” he cleaned the boy’s mouth after a spurt that brought up even more of the lake life. He threw the leaves to the side and leaned Peter against his chest as he started the thrusts again.  

Tony tried to pretend this was nothing more than a practice in first aid class, but again, then he had not dared to press his hands so deeply into Peter’s diaphragm. He tried to pretend this was similar to when Peter had almost choked on a piece of steak.  

But then he had had a conscious, panicked and loudly gurgling boy in his arms.

This Peter was limp and so blue in the face.

What had first been sudden, powerful spurts of water had now regressed to pure foam.

“You okay?” Tony asked although he knew he would get no answer. “All gone? Think I can breathe for you now?”  

He used more care than necessary to lie the boy back on the ground. With swift fingers, he turned Peter’s head to the side. He wiped Peter’s mouth and face clean of whatever it was he had brought up and pinched his nostrils to clean them.  

“Okay, third time’s the charm,” Tony pulled the boy’s head back, closed the boy’s nose and set a hand on Peter’s chest. He took in a deep breath and locked his lips with Peter’s blue ones.

He prayed this would work.

Please let him get air.

Peter’s chest rose in a beautiful arch.

“Yes!” Tony cried and listened to air leave the boy’s mouth. There was still gurgling but he could deal with this. As long as Peter got a lungful of air, the boy could deal with some of it remaining in his system.

Next, his still shaking fingers moved down on the Peter’s neck, coming to a rest right above his carotid artery, and Tony started praying again.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three- and there it was, a flutter so weak that Tony almost missed it. He would’ve relaxed a little if the next thump didn’t take almost five more seconds in coming. Even an idiot could’ve understood the simple maths that was telling Tony that this rhythm was far away from being effective, let alone enough to supply oxygenated blood to all parts of Peter’s body - including his brain, including the organ that made Peter Peter.

Still succeeding in keeping the panic at bay, the mechanic traced with his fingers along Peter’s chest until he located the end of his breastbone and used the position to find the right spot for his hands to do effective compressions.

Prepared for thirty pushes down on the chest, he started counting mentally, and his world began swirling when he physically did the first: a sudden rush of pain almost blinded him.

Tony tried blinking away the tears that were suddenly blurring his vision, and the feeling of nausea after literally feeling something shift in his right hand. There was no doubt it was broken, and now, with the last bits of adrenaline vanishing, the pain hit him like a train. His heart began speeding up, his breaths quickened, and his cold and wet clothes didn’t exactly help with his shivering. He was so incredibly exhausted that he felt like he could collapse any second.

His hands still rested on Peter’s chest, and he stared down at him, not sure if he could still find the physical strength to go on. His body‘s natural reflex to avoid harmful inputs told him not to. Not to put any more pressure on his battered hand.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t just sit there waiting for Peter’s heart to refuse making those few pumps it still did. So he ignored the pain, ignored the blur of his vision, ignored the grunts of agony leaving his mouth and just put the weight of his entire body to push down.

Once, twice.  

He was supposed to do 100 compressions a minute at least, 120 if he really wanted to do it perfectly, but that seemed impossible, even though Tony tried his best.

“I need you to work with me, kiddo.” He said, no longer seeing or hearing anything aside of the blood rushing through his veins. “I can only do this much for you, you have to fight yourself back around.”

Never before had he been so happy to finish counting to thirty. His brain enjoyed the break from pain when he relaxed his hands and moved up to Peter’s head again. Resting his hand on the teen’s chest was now just a way of having his wrist in a comfortable position, but he wouldn’t deny that it was reassuring to feel the chest rise and it made his thought’s drift away from the cold of the boy’s lips and the water he could still hear rattling in his lungs.

One breath.

Two breaths.

He dreaded resting his fingers on the side of Peter’s neck, fearing not to feel anything anymore, fearing to be forced to continue the physical and mental torture that the first aid means were to him.

It was still there, that slow flutter, but it was a flutter after all.

Tony’s curse sounded more like a snarl between shaking teeth.

“Come on Peter, come on! You’ve made it through stuff worse than this.”  

He forced himself through agony, blindness, cold and dizziness to do the required compressions the way they were supposed to.

He has an enhanced metabolism. Tony reminded himself. And you have to be a freaking enhanced rescuer.

A rip cracked down below, loud enough for him to hear it beside the blood rush in his ears and he could’ve laughed in relief. If anything, the compressions were at least hard enough. Maybe the effort would be enough to convince Peter’s heart to pick up pace.  

“It’d be a disgrace if you deserted us like this. Spider-Man killed in a car crash. You wouldn’t want that as your reputation kid, you wouldn’t.”  

Talking helped push most of the discomfort away, but the words made Tony’s heart hurt and only caused him to go on even harder and faster, watching Peter‘s shoulders twitch involuntarily with each press, stomach bulging in response - a sickening symphony. He was glad to only see it in a blur.

When he breathed into the kid‘s lungs this time, his head still hammered, not cooling down even after seeing how perfectly his chest rose. Tony approached his breaking point now, his body slowly overthrowing his mind, the heroism, the urge to save that valuable life below him.

One breath. Two breaths. It all happened in a flurry now.  

Please let him breathe.

Let me just have the chance to relax.

But instead, the answer to his mental wishes came out as a slap in the face.

A thump against his fingertips.

Then nothing.

Nothing for an entire six seconds before he could feel another sluggish movement.

And Tony lost it, because he just didn‘t have any strength left.

“Fight, kid, goddammit!” His left hand leaped forward in an instant, hitting Peter’s cheek hard. Peter didn’t fight, didn’t gasp, nothing: his head just lolled lifelessly to the right.

Tony couldn’t stop the tears from falling anymore when he got his hands on Peter’s chest to start yet another round of compressions, begging for it to work, begging to hear another rib crack, or some gasping that would indicate that he was breathing again.

“Peter, please. Come on. You have to come back.”

As if the boy obeyed, Tony saw him move a little, realizing after a second that progress had finally settled in. He didn’t exactly draw breath, but some part of his brain had started working again after all, knowing that the body needed air, that air required breathing. Peter was trying to open his mouth weakly and Tony stopped the compressions, feeling manic laughter bubbling from his stomach.

“That’s it kiddo, we can totally work with that, just hold on, keep working with me.” The movement of Peter’s lips felt strange and unnatural when he gave the kid a warm breath, but Tony reminded himself that this was good, maybe all he could ask for at the moment. He filled both their lungs, he was working for two and it was getting a toll on his mind, head and body, but Tony was not ready to give up.  

“You can do this, Peter, you are so close,” He crouched over Peter’s chest and began the compressions again. He could think of nothing but the pain, but the pain was good. It meant he was doing something, this was helping.

Another rib cracked.

Then Peter gagged. It was a weak sound, purely reflexive but the boy’s tongue moved.

“Yes!” The man cried and cradled Peter’s face between his hands. “Come on, kiddo, breathe for me. Just a little breath!”

All movement ceased, Peter became as lifeless as before. Tony’s heart sank to his stomach.

“Peter,” he asked weakly and slapped the boy’s face hard. “Hey! Hey! Snap out of it!”

Tony’s body became numb with shock as he pressed his fingers to Peter’s neck and vein. His other hand grasped the boy’s wrist. He counted, he waited, seconds lost all meaning.

Too long, too long.

A beat.

“Oh my God!” He collapsed on the boy’s chest and could not help turning his head to the side so his ear was against the bones under which Peter’s young, warm and stubborn heart resided. The thumb echoed and so slightly raised the boy’s sternum with the pulse. It was still beating.

“You can’t do things like this to me, kiddo,” Tony whispered and resumed CPR. “I’m an old man, you can’t go scaring me to death at a time like this.”

His compressions were strong, sharp, precise but his hand was in agony. He couldn’t take much longer of this.

“Peter, you have to wake up!” He screamed as the boy grunted with each compression. There was an occasional cough as faster circulation of oxygenated blood started waking up Peter’s brain and lungs. It was a terrible scene to witness.

If Tony was grateful for something, it was that Peter did not have to resuscitate him. He didn’t want anyone to have to witness bringing a drowned person back to life.  

If it was him that hit his head, if Peter had to force breath back to his lungs, watch his mentor throw up half a lake and dig dead leaves from his throat-

The roles were better this way. Tony had seen more evil, faced more hardships and trauma, he could take this, he could resuscitate Peter and deal with the nightmares but Peter-

He completed the compressions and again shifted closer to Peter’s head. The blue on his lips had started to vanish only slightly. His throat was constricting like the boy was trying to cough.

“You’ll be okay,” Tony pinched the boy’s nostrils closed and breathed into Peter’s mouth. He watched from the side how the air filled Peter’s lungs and listened how the boy exhaled. He would never take the movement of that small chest for granted, he would love every single breath, cough and hiccup madly because he knew how empty the world was when Peter was lying half-dead and at his mercy.

Again, he positioned himself for compressions, and all relief vanished in a second. His body was winning, his trembling hand refusing to obey any more commands.

Tony knew he had to keep going, but he had lost most of his control. He had lost feeling in his right hand entirely, and he couldn’t hold himself upright enough for one handed compressions either. He collapsed over Peter.

“I-” Tony gasped and clutched Peter’s shirt with his left hand. “I can’t, kiddo. I- you- please-”

His chest shook with weak, tearless sobs as Peter laid unmoving underneath him. It took way too much effort for him to lift his head enough to press his head close to Peter’s and caress his face. His fingers traced the boy’s cheekbones, his nose, eyelids, the features he knew by heart. He could describe them with accuracy but had he ever really appreciated them.

His fingers found the boy’s lips, he had gotten too familiar with them. They were cracked, cold, wet- and still moving. Peter’s body was not ready to give up. It was reaching for the impossible and putting faith in someone to help him.

Tony felt sick.

Would Peter give up in this kind of a situation? Would he let a broken hand stop him?

No, Peter wouldn’t. Peter would try his all and find out the best alternative.  

There was always a chance for life.

Precordial thumbs have proven shown effect in several cases of approaching cardiac failure. Tony had no idea when he’d read about that, but it hardly mattered in the puddle of his memories. It was all he could do now, all that could possibly work, all he felt up to. He fisted his good hand and slammed it into Peter’s chest: the boy’s body twitched slightly but no other reaction came.  

Tony felt the warning signs of a breakdown.

“Goddammit, you son of a bitch!”

He slapped Peter’s face again. He didn’t care to be gentle. Peter was not being easy with him. Tough love had been needed to snap Peter out of his complexes of proving himself even at the risk of his life. Maybe tough love was needed again to give Peter the final push.

“You have to breathe!” He slapped Peter’s face again, leaving ugly imprints of his fingers and palm. “Fucking breathe now!”

He hammered a fist into Peter’s chest again, just where his heart resided.

“Work goddammit!”  

He screamed from the depths of his lungs “You can’t give up like this! You have to try! You’re not even trying you fucking quitter, worthless little shit!”

The deities finally seemed to have mercy on him.

After the third thump, Peter gave a grunt, gagged and then gasped for real this time, his chest expanding properly, and though the boy was still out cold, it was the sweetest sound Tony had ever heard before.

“My God,” Tears made his voice heavy and wet and for a moment Tony could do nothing more than take in the sight of Peter breathing and coughing. The boy’s eyes were still closed and his movements sluggish and weak but there.

Peter was there.

“Kiddo,” He sunk to the ground and gathered Peter’s into his arms. “My brave boy, my little buddy.”

Despite popular misconception, Tony loved physical proclamations of love. He hugged his friends frequently but with Peter, he sometimes did not know where their relationship stood. Sure, he had the habit of tugging the boy under his arm, for both safety and warmth but they hugged very occasionally.

This time, he peppered the boy’s temple with kisses, the kid had deserved each of them.

“You did it kid, you did it,” Tears rolled down his cheeks as he listened and felt Peter’s chest rise and fall. The boy gagged and spit out some water.  

“That’s good,” Tony patted the boy’s back and rubbed his chest. “If there is more to come out, just let it. I’ll help, I’m here, I’ll help you.”

Wind blew and Tony’s teeth started chattering.  

They were still not out of danger. Peter needed immediate medical attention and Tony suspected he also was due to at least one night at a hospital. He looked at the sky, wishing to see some sign their emergency signal had been spotted at the compound. They couldn’t be too far. Someone had to be coming for them.

“Don’t worry, kiddo. We just need to save energy,” The man whispered but he was spent. All he could think of now, was how tired and cold and miserable he was, His thoughts were starting to circle. Peter was the only name in his mind, the boy needed care.  

It was not easy while lying down but he somehow managed to set Peter into recovery position, moving the boy’s arm under his torso and hand under his chin. Tony wished he had something dry to wrap the kid in and instead, he shifted closer and wrapped his arms around the boy. He moved as close as he could and clutched Peter as tightly as he dared. It would not do to get Peter’s breathing back but accidentally smother him in a hug.

Peter’s breaths were slow but even, and the sound of them made it easy for Tony to drift towards unconsciousness.