#the constant eight hour closing shifts kinda hurt

[slicksquid]

going back to work is throwing a wrench in my plans of getting 1 mil ink on e-liter

[faylor]

Faint

By @faylor for @peer-parker as part of the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!

Rating: G

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark / Iron Dad

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark

Prompt: Peter over-works himself. - AKA Peter is REAL tired.

One week. One more week and finals would be over and done with. Then Peter could get some actual sleep. Between the constant studying every day, patrols every night, and interning for Mr. Stark, admittedly he wasn’t exactly getting the recommended eight hours of sleep at night. He was tired. Really tired. But he would never admit to it, at least not to your face. And he was pretty good at hiding it for the most part.

That is, until he accidentally dozed off in class. He couldn’t really help it though. That day’s chemistry lesson wasn’t anything new or exciting to him, so what would it hurt if he didn’t pay as much attention just this once?

“Mr. Parker?”

Peter’s head jerked upward at the sound of Mr. Harrington’s voice, his eyes immediately widening as he realized what had happened.

“Uh- I-“ he sputtered as his eyes focused on the board in the front of the room.

“As I was saying,” his teacher continued with a raised brow, “would you care to explain the name of the formula?”

Thinking quickly, Peter scanned the writings on the board, his gaze landing on said formula. “Um, it’s iron oxide. Or rust.” His voice wavered slightly with embarrassment as he felt his cheeks heat up.

“Right,” Mr. Harrington said, clearing his throat. Peter quietly sighed in relief as his teacher continued with the lecture without another word to him.

Ugh, how could he be so stupid to let himself fall asleep in the middle of class? He’d never done it before, but god was he tired. Most of his classes this semester were more advanced, which hadn’t need an issue before, but trying to balance them with being Spider-Man had proven to be maybe just a bit too much on his plate at once.

“Hey,” Ned whispered from beside him, drawing his attention. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just... late night.” Peter shrugged. “I’ll explain later.”

And by that, he meant that he’d make up some story about patrolling super late and losing track of time, which wasn’t technically a lie. But he’d definitely leave out the part about it happening over the course of the past two weeks. Peter just didn’t like for people to worry about him. He was fine, really. Maybe he’d just have to sacrifice an hour or two a night on patrol until finals were over with. He could live with that. Maybe.

After school, Peter did his usual routine of homework and then studying, followed by dinner and more studying. By the time nine o’clock rolled around, he decided to retire his textbooks for the night and trade them in for his suit, which he slipped on before quietly escaping out his bedroom window.

It was only about an hour in on his patrol when his fatigue really started to hit him, but he figured all he needed was a short break. So he made his way to one of his favorite rooftops downtown and sat down on the ledge, letting his feet swing as he gazed out at the city. It was all in all a relaxing sight, which didn’t much help his state.

His head was all but spinning, and his limbs suddenly weighed a thousand pounds. His eyelids were fighting him to close, but he had to stay alert. He had to stay awake.

But sleep would be so nice, he thought. Maybe if he just took a short nap. He could have Karen wake him up and he’d be right back at it- No, he had to stay awake. He had to. But his eyes were beginning to betray him as they started to slip closed, and then he was out.

Something had suddenly jolted him awake, though - his senses practically screaming at him. His eyes flickered back and forth, widening as he saw the ledge he’d been sitting on getting further and further away. He was... falling?

“Shit!” Peter gasped. He had to think fast.

He quickly outstretched his arm, activating his web shooter toward the building. The relief of swinging away never came though. Instead, he felt himself hit the ground, hard. His back and head were immediately drowning in a wave of pain that made him groan with a strained voice, and that familiar feeling of heavy eyes quickly came back again. This time, he didn’t hesitate to give in to it.

The next thing Peter remembered was the feeling of floating. Was he still falling? No. He remembered hitting the ground. Or had he dreamt that? Was the whole thing a dream? Was he still just asleep on the rooftop? He really had hoped so. He hoped that he was fine. That he had just dozed off on the roof and he was just dreaming and that everything was okay.

That train of thought was entirely derailed as the faint yet distinct beeping of a heart monitor started to fill his ears. At about the same time, the back of his head began to ache, alongside practically the rest of his body. Okay, so he had definitely fallen, and he was definitely not dreaming. But where was he? And how the hell had he gotten there?

He fluttered his eyes open, his vision started to focus on his surroundings. He could tell he was in some sort of hospital room, but it definitely wasn’t a regular hospital. It was almost as if he knew, but his head was still spinning and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“And there he is,” an all too familiar voice sounded from his side. His head jerked toward the source as his brows furrowed.

“M-Mssr Stark?” Peter slurred, his eyes slightly widening.

“How’re you feeling, kiddo?” Mr. Stark asked, taking a small step toward him.

“I- My head...”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s gonna be sore for a bit, thanks to that lovely concussion you got from falling - what was it - ten stories?” His mentor raised a brow, his lips pressed into a fine line.

Peter’s face immediately shifted to a mixture of embarrassment, surprise, and guilt. He could tell Tony knew exactly what had happened last night. Wait, had it been last night? Or the day before. Peter could quite tell how long he’d been out. It honestly felt like days.

“Karen showed me everything, Pete.” He sighed, his expression turning to concern. “How much sleep are you getting at night?”

Peter opened his mouth to protest, but the words never made it out. Instead, they were replaced with a sigh and a slight head shake. “I’m sorry...” he mumbled.

“Kid, listen,” Mr. Stark started, making his way over to Peter’s bedside. “I know I agreed to not spy on you and look through your suit recordings, but I wanted to figure out what was going on.” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Karen told me you’ve been out patrolling until two in the morning sometimes. Wanna tell me why?”

Peter hesitated, a sigh sipping past his lips. “I- It’s just that- Finals are coming up and I’ve been kinda struggling with a couple of classes and I just wanted to make sure I did really good on the finals, you know? So I’ve been trying to study a lot more, which means I don’t get to patrol until later so I-“

“Take a breath, Pete,” Mr. Stark cut him off, a half amused smile on his face. “At least now I know why you’ve seemed so spaced out in the lab recently.”

“I- I wasn’t spaced out. Just... not as, uh, focused.” He gave his mentor a sheepish smile.

Mr. Stark hummed, an eyebrow slightly raised. “You don’t need to be working yourself that hard.”

“I know, I know... It’s just- I mean I’ve been trying to make sure I can do everything that I need to, and I guess I haven’t really been keeping track of time and-“ he sighed, his head slightly dropping as his fingers toyed with one another in his lap. “And I’m just trying to keep up with my responsibilities. I can’t just not be Spider-Man.” His tone turned dismal.

Somewhere in the back of Peter’s mind, he knew that he probably should’ve cut his patrols short for the time being and catch up on sleep, but he also knew that his guilt would be eating him away at the thought of Spider-Man not being there for his neck of the woods every day.

On the other hand, he should’ve known better. Getting about three or four hours of sleep at most over the past couple of weeks had definitely not been treating him well, and it only kept getting worse and worse. And now he knew the repercussions of that.

Mr. Stark was quiet for a moment, looking at Peter with a mixture of worry, yet with understanding.

“Hey,” he placed a gentle hand on Peter’s shoulder, prompting his attention. “I know I’m not exactly the poster child for proper sleep schedules, or time management for that matter... But Pete, you gotta realize that being responsible is also remembering to take care of yourself sometimes, too. Your finals are important, yeah. And being Spider-Man is, too. I get that. But you can’t keep over-working yourself and sacrificing sleep just so you can cram everything into your life at once. You’ve gotta take time for yourself, you know.”

Peter’s gaze found its way to his mentor, his head nodding a bit. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Pete.” He brushed a stray curl from Peter’s forehead. “And don’t feel like you can’t take a night off or two from being Spider-Baby if you need to.” A slight smirk formed on Mr. Stark’s features before it turned into a more genuine smile. “No more patrolling on nights you’re gonna be out past eleven, alright?”

Peter’s features formed a small smile of their own. “Fine.”

“Good.” Mr. Stark returned his smile. “Now you need to get some more actual rest, kiddo. You’ve got one nasty concussion to sleep off. Not to mention the cracked rib. And the major bruising-“

“I get it, I get it,” Peter laughed, playfully swatting a hand at him.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, kid.”

“Don’t wait up, Mr Stark.” He slightly smirked, his eyes already drifting closed. “I’ve got a lot of sleep to catch up on...”

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[mostlycompetentwriter]

Streetlight

F/M Pairing: OC x Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Warnings: Angst (this is kinda sad at the beginning); fluff; mild language 

Genre: Family AU; Haven Sequel; Strangers to Lovers

Word Count: 7.8K

Summary: For a long time, Changbin’s priorities were centered around the need to take care of Y/N and the rest of his adopted family. However, as their dynamic has continued to evolve, he starts to feel like they no longer really need him. So, maybe Changbin feels a little bit lonely these days, but that all changes when he meets a mysterious stranger who wants to take care of him instead.

A/N: Like Haven itself, I really love this one. Special thanks to the anonymous user who requested this! I wish I could tag you.

Whenever Changbin found himself questioning why he was forced to endure the monotony of a 9-5 desk job with no reprieve, including outrageous weekend hours and overtime, he was always reminded of his family and a persistent desire to take care of them. It was a sound justification for putting up with the rude customers who took one look at his superintendent badge and immediately targeted him as the subject of their endless complaints. For example, they might say something like, “The packaging is all wrong!” or, “The shipment label should be 152 instead of 151!” and, his personal favorite, “Do you actually know what you’re doing?”

In those instances, Changbin would paste on his best fake smile and kindly tell those customers that, yes, he did have some inkling of what he was doing, even if he sometimes doubted himself. After all, his job wasn’t that hard, but it was demanding of his time and efforts, and Changbin was rapidly coming to the conclusion that he wasn’t meant for a customer service position. But quitting would mean jeopardizing the success and good-fortune that had befallen his family during recent weeks. It would mean risking their overstock of food and secure funding for Felix’s college classes. It would mean forcing the younger members to work, or exposing Minho to more hours at the warehouse.

That certainly wouldn’t be fair to Y/N who had come to form a very strong dependency on Minho, even if their relationship had been a major shock for the rest of the family when it was first discovered. The circumstances surrounding the revelation weren’t exactly ideal, and Changbin had been a little hurt that Y/N felt the need to hide something like that from him. She had come a long away from the shy pre-teen who would snuggle next to him at night and tell him about her dreams for the future. 

His heart would sometimes ache for those days because it was nice to be needed. Changbin had a people-pleasing personality, and he often formed strong bonds with those that he cared about. But his love for Y/N was especially strong, and Changbin wondered if Y/N ever missed those nights when she would crawl into Changbin’s bed and ask him to protect her from those horrible nightmares.

It sometimes made him sad when he realized that Y/N didn’t need him like she used to when she first arrived at the house. In the same way that most of his family members had outgrown their childish stages, maturing into young adults who were starting to become independent. Even Jeongin and Seungmin had reached that stage where they could handle themselves, attending school during the day before coming home and isolating themselves away from the others.

In fact, when he really thought about it, most of his family members would spend the majority of their time according to whatever fascinated their current whims. Thankfully, Chan had decided that Friday nights would remain exclusive, and Changbin might be lucky enough to have Y/N crawl into his lap, or one of the other members cuddle close to his side - where he would like to have them for the rest of their lives because it felt nice to keep them safe.

“Excuse me, young man, but is this really the best you can do on stamps?”

Changbin sighed at the interruption, studying the elderly woman who had disturbed his thoughts. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said. “We don’t sell anything else.”

The old woman scoffed at him before walking away, and Changbin wondered what Y/N might be doing at that moment...

It was late when Changbin found himself trudging down the hallway, ignoring the sound of Jisung whining about how Changbin had bought the wrong kind of snacks. He really wasn’t in the mood to deal with Jisung, especially when the younger seemed to have forgotten that Changbin took the long way home just to buy those snacks for him in the first place. Instead, Changbin just wanted to curl up in bed and go to sleep because he had another early shift tomorrow, and it made him feel extremely unmotivated to endure another day of his shitty office job. 

In fact, what Changbin really wanted was Y/N, but when he paused outside of the bedroom that she shared with Jeongin and Seungmin, he could hear the sound of laughter coming from the other side. Changbin took a deep breath, cracking the door open just enough to see Minho and Y/N lying in bed together, watching some sort of video on one of the laptops that belonged to the older members. Changbin swallowed hard, closing the door again before he walked up the stairs and found his room at the other end.

He paused for a moment, looking back at the empty staircase, and wondered what the others were doing since nobody else bothered to greet him when he came home except for Jisung. Consequently, there was an unpleasant sensation swimming around his heart, and Changbin tried to ignore it as he walked into his bedroom, shrugging off his jacket before falling into bed still dressed in his work uniform. For a moment, Changbin was perfectly quiet, even while his mind was loud and refused to give him a moment of peace. 

But then he eventually identified what those unpleasant feelings really were, and he hadn’t felt it this profoundly since before his own father kicked him out of his house: it was loneliness. Changbin felt alone in a house full of 8 other people, and when the realization finally settled, Changbin felt a stray tear fall down the side of his face. Because it hurts to feel alone.

It was a struggle then, when he glanced at his alarm clock, vision blurry from the salty wetness that continued to steadily leak from the corners of his eyes, and he could barely perceive the time displayed on the screen. Nevertheless, Changbin had been experiencing a lot of trouble falling asleep in recent weeks, and tonight seemed like it would be another restless plight of tossing and turning. But when had this started? Changbin couldn’t really pinpoint the exact moment when his life started to feel like it was falling apart - like he was losing everything that he had once treasured.

Honestly speaking, even before his stupid job, Changbin had felt like shit because Chan was constantly on his ass about staying at home all the time. It wasn’t even his fault, but it felt like Chan was determined to break him - to pressure him so far that he would literally split in half from the constant push and pull. Then again, Changbin had always experienced moments when he felt like there was nothing he could to prevent his most depressing thoughts. Maybe it was really because of his past - his terrible childhood and his rotten excuse for a father who decided that Changbin didn’t deserve his love or affection. 

Yeah, maybe he had some daddy issues, but he also had to watch his own mother die when he was eight-years-old. For a while after her death, Changbin felt like there were huge parts of him that was left empty, and it had taken an awfully long time to fill those places again. But his family living with him at their precious Haven helped a lot because he was able to occupy his time with taking care of others. But Changbin had also learned how to put on a mask of indifference and pretend that he was okay when he felt unusually sad. Maybe he had gotten so good at pretending that he had started to fool even himself.

Perhaps it was finally catching up to him.

Changbin shook his head, wiping away the tears as he rolled onto his side. His eyes explored the darkness of his room until they settled on his nightstand where he paused on the little stuffed Munchlax that sat next to his lamp - a gift from Y/N after he had stayed up with her for an entire week when she had the flu. “I’m beary grateful,” she had said, giggling with childish delight when she first offered him the gift.

It seemed inconsequential at the time, but Changbin had always treasured the little gift, and when he brought it next to him in bed, he could pretend like it was Y/N. He could remember the nights when she curled up next to him, sharing secrets that she never told anyone else. He could feel a little bit better when he was feeling down, and Changbin savored the beautiful moment of peace that the stuffed plushy brought him before he closed his eyes to sleep.

The next morning, Changbin slept through his alarm, and there was a small part of him that desperately wanted to just ignore his responsibilities for one day and remain warm beneath his bed sheets. But life had different plans for him, especially with Bang Chan in charge of the house. “Get up,” Chan said, and Changbin grunted when he felt the older pull the sheets into the floor. “I thought you had a morning shift.”

“I do,” Changbin grumbled, and he cursed under his breath when Chan finally left the room.

Changbin sighed when he realized that the potential for more sleep was completely gone, and he was forced to shower and dress himself before walking down the stairs. It was too early for most of the members, but Changbin greeted Chan and Minho as he dropped down into one of the kitchen chairs. “Coffee?” Changbin asked, looking over at Chan.

“Hyunjin broke the damn thing,” Chan said. “We’ll have to wait until this weekend to go shopping.”

“What an asshole,” Minho remarked, and Changbin nodded his agreement.

“We’re making a list,” Chan said. “I get my bonus check tomorrow, and we can decide on what needs to be replaced.”

“The hot water heater should be a priority,” Changbin said. “I only had enough for a ten-minute shower.”

“How long do you need?” Chan asked, and Changbin snorted because he knew that Chan would only agree to make expensive purchases when he decided that they were, indeed, absolutely critical. “What do you think, Minho?”

“Y/N and I usually take showers together,” he said with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows.

Chan immediately voiced his complaints, explaining to Minho that neither he nor Changbin wanted to hear about their exploits. Changbin especially was still not used to hearing Minho or Y/N talk about the explicit parts of their relationship. But Minho was always perfectly willing to share.

“Add condoms to this list,” Minho continued. “We’re almost out.”

“Come on, Minho,” Chan muttered, but he still wrote down the request. “I’ll think about the hot water heater.”

“You two decide,” Changbin said, rising from the table as he grabbed his keys off the counter.

“You’re not going to eat?” Chan asked with a worried tone, but Changbin chose to ignore him as he walked outside onto the porch, inhaling the fresh, morning air before approaching his car.

The old van was unreliable, but Changbin didn’t have much of a choice when it came to his preferred choice of transportation. They were lucky enough to find the van on sale at a price that they could afford, but it was still hard to find used cars these days that satisfied their budget. And Changbin spent ten minutes jostling his keys in the lock before he managed to open the driver’s side door, turning over the ignition three times before the van offered a half-hearted rumble.

On most days, Changbin was forced to cross his fingers that the old van would get him to work and back without falling to pieces. Changbin rolled his eyes at the thought of bringing it up to Chan because the least he could do was allow Changbin to bring it to a mechanic. There was definitely a problem if the check engine light stayed on 24/7.

“Please don’t leave me stranded,” Changbin said, easing backwards out of the driveway before gently navigating the van along the back roads that he had plotted out since he couldn’t handle the highway.

He briefly recalled when he first got the van because it was a “shiny” new toy for the younger members to savor, and both Jeongin and Seungmin used to beg Changbin to take them for rides at night. And he could never refuse them, gliding up and down the roads while playing their favorite music over the terrible sound system. But the younger boys loved those occasions, and they often talked to Changbin about any sort of worries or concerns that plagued their minds. 

Like the time Jeongin had a problem with another kid in his class who picked on him for the clothes that he wore. At first, Changbin tried to satisfy Jeongin’s insistence that new clothes would solve everything, and he dug into his savings account to buy him new jeans and shirts. But, of course, the bully only found something else to tease him about, and Changbin couldn’t stand the way Jeongin would start crying when he told him about how much his feelings were hurt. Which is why, on an unforgettable spring morning, Changbin defied Chan’s orders to stay out of it and drove Jeongin to school only to confront the bully in person. Apparently, the kid was so upset by Changbin’s words, that he told the school officials, and Changbin and Chan had to apologize to the kid’s parents for the mishap.

However, that little shit certainly never bothered Jeongin ever again.

Changbin smiled at the recollection. Even if Chan had been furious with him, he had never regretted his actions. It was just one story that he had of many concerning the members of his family, and the lengths he was willing to go to ensure their happiness.

Even at the cost of his own.

“Excuse me, but I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes!”

Changbin sighed, shouldering aside the poor customer service aide who was clearly out of his league trying to help the middle-aged woman who was seconds away from demanding to see the manager. “Hi,” Changbin said, hoping that the frustration that he felt wasn’t evident in his tone. “I’m very sorry, ma’am. Can you tell me what you’re looking for?”

The woman crossed her arms over her chest, cocking out one hip in a posture that clearly screamed privileged. But Changbin didn’t have the authority to throw this woman out for causing a scene inside the post office; instead, he’s forced to listen to her complaints for another ten minutes before he finally offered a compromise that satisfied her audacious demands and allowed him to keep his rational sanity.

“Have a nice day!”

“We’ll see about that,” the woman muttered, and Changbin quickly made the decision to take one of his mandatory breaks even though he only had an hour left on his shift. 

“Bitch,” Changbin grumbled, walking into the back room and sitting down on one of the chairs surrounding his office’s snack machine. “Who the hell ate all of the M&M’s?” Changbin whined, and he wondered, not for the first time, if the universe was conspiring against him.

He settled for a candy bar, checking his phone for any messages, but he wasn’t surprised to see that nobody had reached out. The only people who would try to contact him were his family members, but they knew that he was working. But it still made Changbin feel sad for reasons he couldn’t totally figure out, and he didn’t have enough time to wrestle with complex feelings that made him question whether he really wanted to go straight home after work.

However, when his shift finally ended, Changbin was driving down the same backroads that he always endured, shuffling through the three radio stations that the van managed to pick-up including some sort of EDM station, Country Music Today, and the Classical Hits. Yeah, it wasn’t the best selection, and Changbin distinctly remembered having more options when he first bought the stupid thing.

But he also should’ve known that having such negative thoughts would never lead to anything good, and Changbin was already cursing when he felt the van start to shake and refuse to budge over 25-miles-per-hour. Consequently, Changbin was forced to pull over on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere with questionable cell service. “Son of a bitch!” he shouted, slamming his hands against the steering wheel before he opened the door.

At that point, Changbin was fed up with everything, and his emotions were bordering on the edge of volatile as he kicked the driver’s side door, growling when he realized that he had left a dent behind in the metal. “Stupid fucking piece of shit!” he yelled, slamming his hands down on the hood before he unlatched the metal piece keeping the damn thing from flying into his windshield.

Immediately, a huge cloud of smoke erupted in his face, and he failed to waft the offending spray away from his eyes which started to burn as a result. “What the fuck?” he grunted, squinting as he tried to figure out where the smoke was even coming from. He wasn’t a fucking mechanic, and his limited knowledge made him doubt that he should be messing around with the little black lid that, perhaps, had something to do with the engine...

“Are you okay?” a gentle voice inquired from somewhere behind him, and Changbin turned around in surprise.

For a moment, Changbin was rendered speechless, looking the unfamiliar stranger up and down before he realized something quite profound: she was beautiful. “Uh...” Changbin trailed off, pointing at his van. “I broke down.”

“I can try to give you a jump,” she offered, and Changbin nodded his head while the woman smiled. “Has this happened before?”

“Not like this,” Changbin said, watching her return to her own car, and no, Changbin was not staring at her ass.

“It’s probably the radiator,” she explained, wrapping the battery cables around her arm. “But I can look at the engine for you.”

Changbin nodded, watching the kind stranger sit down behind the wheel, attempting to turn over the ignition with no luck. “It’s not the battery,” she said. “Believe it or not.”

Changbin shrugged. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“That’s fine,” she said, giving him one of the most genuine smiles that he had ever seen. “I can help.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Changbin said, and he stood aside to allow her access to the van’s plethora of interesting offerings under the hood.

“My name is Sara by the way,” she said. “I’m a mechanic downtown.”

“Really?”

“My brother actually owns a shop,” she explained. “I can have it towed there for you. Free of charge.”

“F-free?” Changbin stuttered because he knew that those kind of services cost more than a pretty penny, but Sara seemed perfectly indifferent.

“Yeah.” She laughed, raising her arms above her head and exposing a sliver of skin at her stomach. “Is that okay? I can also take you home.”

“Oh!” Changbin remarked like the intellect that he was these days. “There’s no need for that, I can call someone.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, fetching her own phone from a loose pocket. “I’ll call the office and send for the tow truck. My brother does work for pretty low prices, and I think he can save your car for you. As long as you’re okay with that?”

“That would be great!” Changbin said. “I mean, it’s been a while since it’s had anything done.”

Sara nodded, holding out her phone for Changbin. “Just give me your number. We can call you and keep you informed, and we won’t do anything pricey without your permission.”

“Thank you,” Changbin said, quickly adding his phone number under the new contact option. “You’re literally a lifesaver.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” she said, leaning against the side of the van. “Do you live around here?”

“Just down the road,” Changbin said, dialing Chan’s number before holding the phone up to his ear. “But, seriously, I’m really grateful for all of this.”

“Please, don’t mention it,” she said. “You looked like you were having a rough day, and I know how that feels. Like, when the whole world seems like it’s falling down around you, the last thing you need is something like this to happen.”

Changbin chuckled, finding himself enamored with the way Sara liked to chew on her bottom lip as if in deep thought. “Yeah,” he said, hearing Chan’s voice reach out to him from the other end. “But it’s not always bad.”

Changbin called Chan to come pick him up after Sara made arrangements with her brother to tow the van to their shop downtown. She smiled at Changbin and reassured him that everything would be handled. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay,” she said, and Changbin didn’t know how to respond to that because it had been a long time since someone wanted to take care of him.

She eventually left after Changbin reassured her that Chan was on his way, but he could still see her lingering around her car until Chan finally pulled over to the side. “Hey! Get in already!”

Changbin closed his eyes, and quickly made himself comfortable in the passenger’s seat after Chan’s embarrassing comment. “Just drive,” Changbin muttered.

Chan obeyed, pulling back onto the road before letting out an irritated sigh. “You said on the phone that you took care of the van,” Chan said. “How much will it cost to have it towed?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing!?”

Changbin smirked. “I met someone who offered to have it towed for free. She’s bringing it to her brother’s shop downtown.”

“A mechanic’s shop?” Chan asked. “We can’t really afford anything outrageous...”

“She said that she would call when they found the problem,” Changbin said. “We don’t have pay anything unless we have the work done.”

Chan scoffed, reaching up to adjust his mirror. “If it’s something to do with the engine, then we might as well have the damn thing sent to the junkyard. We’d have more luck buying something else.”

“Yeah,” Changbin agreed absent-mindedly because he couldn’t stop thinking about Sara. “Did you buy the stupid snacks Jisung asked for?”

“I bought what you sent me,” Chan replied, and he sent Changbin a look that said: if it’s wrong, then it’s your fault!

“Thanks for helping out,” Changbin muttered sarcastically, and he resigned himself to looking out the window for the remainder of the trip home while Chan continued to talk on and on about possible options to replace the van. It wasn’t that Changbin was ignoring him, but he had heard enough about their troubles to last him a lifetime. Chan also liked to take everything to the extreme, and Changbin was usually left to deal with the repercussions.

In any case, the sight of the house was an enormous relief as Changbin all but threw himself out of Chan’s car, escaping another needless lecture. He could see his bedroom window from the front lawn, and he longed to escape to his room and pass out in the quiet darkness. However, Changbin should’ve anticipated that the rest of his family would all be downstairs after catching wind of his incident with the van on the side of the road. And the first person to speak out was Jisung, who called Changbin into the living room, eyes glowing with the reflection of the TV screen.

“I heard the van finally gave out,” Jisung said, sitting up on the couch and dropping the remainder of his potato chips into the floor. “Shit!”

“Jisung!” Chan snapped, propping his hands on his hips like he was some kind of middle-aged mom who was about to reprimand her son. “Clean up that mess!”

“Fine,” Jisung groaned, and he followed Changbin into the kitchen. “Ya! Are these my snacks?” he asked, snatching the bag from across the counter.

“That’s all I’ve been hearing about for an entire week!” Hyunjin remarked, and Changbin realized that the kitchen was almost completely full of his house mates.

Y/N smiled, standing next to Minho as she reached out to tug on Hyunjin’s sleeve. “You’ve been complaining just as much.”

“No, I haven’t!” Hyunjin protested, and Changbin despised how loud it was while he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Especially when Jisung’s displeased whine managed to overwhelm all of the other white noise.

“You brought home the wrong snacks again!” Jisung whined, and Changbin must’ve worn out the last reserves of his patience at the post office and on the side of that stupid back road when he abruptly turned around to confront the younger man.

“Why don’t you drive your own lazy ass to the grocery store and buy whatever the fuck it is that I can’t seem to find!”

“Changbin!” Chan gasped, and there was an immediate silence that followed his outburst as most of the members looked at him with matching expressions of shock. 

“I’m tired,” Changbin excused himself, even knowing that it was a lousy thing to say in place of an apology. But he didn’t need to hear Chan speak another word, and hadn’t Changbin endured enough drama for one day?

Instead, Changbin walked upstairs, and he could finally breathe again when he re-discovered the solitude of his bedroom, and there were already tears forming at the corners of his eyes when he collapsed on top of his bed. It had been a while since he really cried, and Changbin rarely showed any kind of weakness around the other members because he was the second oldest - and there was an expectation that he should be strong for everyone else, even when he was screaming on the inside.

But there was only one other person in the entire world who had ever truly seen him break down - and she was standing in the doorway, looking at him with eyes that reflected her understanding. “Changbin?” Y/N whispered, closing the door behind her as she crawled into the bed next to him.

“Yeah?” Changbin murmured because his voice was muffled by the pillows. Even so, Y/N didn’t hesitate to lay down next to him on the bed, pressing herself as close as possible considering the limited space.

“You’re not okay,” she remarked, and Changbin shook his head as one arm wrapped itself around his waist.

“I didn’t mean to snap at Jisung,” Changbin said, and Y/N simply nodded as she held him even tighter. 

“It’s not your fault, okay?” Y/N whispered, and Changbin nodded, looking at her fondly while he managed to prop himself up on the bed.

“It was a long fucking day,” Changbin said. “I hate that stupid van.”

Y/N smiled. “At least Chan has no choice but to fix it, right?”

“Or buy something else,” Changbin remarked, and they were both silent for a while. But Changbin didn’t mind the quiet. After all, it was everything that he wanted ever since Chan had picked him up on the side of the road.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Y/N eventually requested, and Changbin’s stomach twisted at the thought of opening up and exposing his darkest feelings - the loneliness that he felt these days, and the stupid reason why he missed having the younger members want something more from him other than cheap snacks.

“I don’t know,” he said, deciding to settle on a different version of the truth. One that still made him look strong without having to reveal the weaknesses clawing away at his insides.

“Well,” Y/N said, “when you figure it out, you can always talk to me.”

Changbin nodded again. “Are you staying with me tonight?”

There was an intolerable level of desperation in his tone that made him wince, but Y/N wasn’t the kind of person who would judge. “Yeah,” she said, rubbing her hand along his stomach. “I’ll be here.”

Changbin sighed because Y/N would never understand just how much those simple words meant to him. Because sleep suddenly came much easier, and Changbin allowed his eyes to close while wrapped around Y/N.

Later on, Changbin woke-up without much warning to an empty feeling in his stomach, and he realized that he had skipped dinner. Subsequently, he managed to make his way downstairs to the kitchen, finding the leftovers from dinner waiting inside the fridge. His stomach growled, and Changbin reached for the bowl, examining the contents inside before he walked over the microwave. 

“You want to tell me what your little tantrum was all about?”

Changbin sighed, glancing up at Chan as he stood behind him wearing a familiar scowl. “Not really,” Changbin replied, punching the buttons on the microwave.

“Jisung wanted me to let you know that he’s sorry,” Chan said. “But I don’t know why he’s the one apologizing.”

Changbin shrugged, sliding a hand through his hair while forcing himself to meet Chan’s stern gaze. “What do you want me to say?”

“Is it because of work?” Chan asked. “Do you need to take less hours?”

“No,” Changbin lied, startling when the microwave began to beep in succession. He grabbed his food and held it against his chest. “I don’t really think work is bothering me.”

Chan’s shoulder dropped as his expression softened. “Did Y/N talk to you?”

Changbin nodded. “Look, I’ll apologize to Jisung when I come home tomorrow.”

“He’s sensitive,” Chan said, even though Changbin already knew that. “Did they say when the van would be ready?”

“I think Sara said something about this weekend,” Changbin responded, and he took a bite of his food without really considering what he had just told Chan.

“Sara?”

Changbin winced. “Yeah, the girl who helped me earlier.”

“Ah!” Chan acknowledged. “I guess she made an impression.”

“She was really nice,” Changbin said, and Chan sent him a look that Changbin couldn’t quite decipher. In fact, it almost made the atmosphere between them awkward, and Changbin cleared his throat. “I’m going back upstairs.”

“Okay,” Chan said, and Changbin quickly retreated from the kitchen before he was asked any more questions.

On his next day off, Changbin received a voicemail from Sara that told him the van had been inspected. He was invited to the shop so that he could hear the full report for himself in person. It was a seemingly mundane business exchange, but Changbin found himself bursting with excitement when he walked inside the main office, discovering Sara standing behind the counter.

“Hey,” Changbin said, trying to act cool by stuffing his wandering hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“The van might not make it,” she replied with an apologetic look. “When’s the last time you had it inspected?”

Changbin cleared his throat, looking at the ground when he shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

It was a sheepish response, and Changbin expected to hear some kind of lecture about the importance of vehicle safety. Instead, she laughed at his disregard, leaning against the wall with a wide smile. “I kinda figured, but that’s okay.”

Changbin drew in his bottom lip, chewing on the raw skin as he thought about something cool to continue their conversation - maybe something that could allow him the rare honor of hearing that beautiful laugh again. “Its not something we prioritized,” Changbin explained.

“We?”

“The people I live with,” Changbin elaborated, studying the interesting way that the sunlight managed to form a halo of sorts around Sara’s soft brown hair.

“Oh? Kinda like housemates?” Sara asked, and she pulled a file from the heavy stack of folders waiting on top of the counter. 

“You could say that,” Changbin agreed.

“I think it’s interesting,” Sara told him. “Do you wanna see the van? We can talk about it inside the garage.”

Changbin nodded without hesitation, and Sara led him out the side door which brought them to the attached metal building. It smelled like gasoline and rubber - plus an assortment of other scents that he could only associate with a place like this. And he spotted the van in the very last spot, looking worse for wear with its peeling paint and general abuse. 

“So, you definitely need a new radiator,” Sara explained as they paused next to the van. “But I also found a lot of things that need replacing: tires, battery, back-up lights, windshield, and maybe some of the plugs inside...”

“Really?” Changbin asked, and he didn’t need to know a damn thing about cars to understand that all those repairs would cost way too much money.

“I can give you a discount,” Sara said. “I don’t know if it’ll help much.”

Changbin sighed, pulling up the sleeves of his t-shirt as a nervous habit. “I don’t think we can afford it right now.”

“Well, there’s always other options,” Sara said, perfectly understanding. “We actually sell used cars across the road. I’d love to offer you something at a good price. Maybe we could set-up some payment plans to help with your budget.”

Sara may actually be a literal angel, Changbin thought to himself. “Can I see them?”

“Of course,” Sara said. “It’s just across the street, and if you want, we can stop inside the convenience store for some drinks. My treat, of course.”

Changbin looked at her like she had just solved all of the world’s greatest problems. Because he couldn’t remember the last time someone had treated him, nor could he think of a moment in time where he felt the peculiar tugging on his heartstrings. Almost like something completely novel was opening up right in front of his eyes.

“Sure,” Changbin agreed, and that’s how he spent the rest of the day next to Sara’s side, perusing a wide selection of perfectly suitable replacements for the van while talking about anything and everything that had nothing to do with cars or the predicament of Changbin’s financial situation. Instead, Sara surprised him by asking about the things that most people wouldn’t care about - which do you prefer? Long walks on the beach or an overnight stay in a mountain cabin? What do you fear the most? Do you have an opinion on the toxicity of celebrity culture?

That last one surprised Changbin, especially when he realized that Sara was basically a living and breathing genius. It made him realize that they were a lot alike in that regard - judged because of their occupations, but they were actually so much more than what people might perceive. He was only rapidly coming to the conclusion that he really liked Sara. A lot. More than he ever thought possible considering their brief introduction.

Maybe it was some kind of fated connection - the type that everyone wanted to experience. It wasn’t exactly love, but then again, Changbin knew that love could be felt in different ways. For example, the love he had for Y/N wasn’t comparable to these foreign feelings that he only expressed around Sara. In the same way that Changbin’s love for his mother was nothing like what he had for his family members. 

Ultimately, Changbin thought that there was, at the very least, a possibility of something with Sara, but was he willing to pursue it? Because this something might take a lot of his time and attention, and would his family be okay if he wasn’t giving them 110% of his effort and dedication? More importantly, was he brave enough to even try? Did he deserve it?

There was too much to think about, and Changbin left Sara at the mechanic’s shop with a simple promise that he would talk to Chan about buying another used car to replace the van. In the meantime, Changbin could only think of one person who might help him sort through these confusing feelings.

Likewise, Changbin made sure that he beat Minho home, finding Y/N in her basement bedroom reading alone. He knocked once on the door, alerting Y/N to his presence. “Hey,” Changbin said.

Y/N smiled. “You were gone a while.”

“There was a lot to discuss,” Changbin said, schooling his expression before meeting Y/N’s gaze. “Will you take a nap with me?”

Y/N glanced up in obvious surprise - because she wasn’t used to hearing Changbin ask for things like this, especially after the revelation of her relationship with Minho. “Okay.”

Changbin was relieved by her easy, and unquestioning, compliance. But that was one of the best things that he liked about Y/N - she always knew when she needed to ask questions versus when the moment called for contemplation. And in this moment, Changbin needed Y/N to have a lot of patience with him, curling up together on their sides as he met her gentle gaze somewhere in the middle.

“I met someone,” Changbin said, looking over at Y/N as she gazed at him with a complete look of understanding. “We’ll, we’ve met before, but today was different.”

“Binnie,” she cooed, leaning in close so that their foreheads were touching. “Do you have a crush on the mechanic?”

Changbin scoffed, moving away while Y/N giggled at the rosy color decorating his cheeks. “I don’t have time for crushes.”

“Why not?” Y/N asked, and her smile was gone in exchange for a far more serious tone. 

“I don’t know,” Changbin said. “I’ve got to help take care of the house.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment, and Changbin closed his eyes because he was suddenly exhausted. “Changbin,” she finally said. “I hope you don’t mean that you can’t have someone special in your life just because of us.”

“No,” Changbin said, but there wasn’t much conviction behind that one simple negative, and Y/N definitely knew that he was lying.

“Hey,” Y/N said, forcing their gazes to meet. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Changbin shivered. “Noticed what?”

“You look really sad these days, Changbin,” Y/N whispered. “I don’t know why, but you keep trying to hide it from us.”

Changbin studied the raw intensity in Y/N’s gaze, and it was a powerful force - capable of knocking down all those cruel walls that he had built around himself. “I just want to keep you safe,” he said, feeling the promise of tears sting the raw skin around his eyelids. “But nobody really needs me anymore.”

“Changbin,” Y/N said, but it was just a simple intonation of his name, free of judgement. It said so much with so little, and it let him know that Y/N was shocked by Changbin’s confession, but she wanted him to elaborate and explain himself without interruption.

“For most of my life,” Changbin said. “I was pushed aside and treated like shit. It happened with my father, and I’ve had to face criticism from my bosses and those assholes I lived with before coming here.”

Changbin sighed, closing his eyes. “I just wanted to be accepted, and I never felt that until Chan let me stick around. Instead of being pushed away, everyone welcomed me with open arms, and they genuinely liked having me around because they needed me. I didn’t even have to pretend to be someone better.”

Y/N nodded - her only acknowledgement - before Changbin continued. “I knew you guys would grow up one day, but it started to feel like I wasn’t really needed anymore. I guess it might sound stupid, but I really do feel lonely sometimes when I come home from my shitty job and there’s nobody around to really say anything.”

And there it was - his true and honest feelings were exposed for Y/N, and he laid perfectly still as she ensured that he was finally finished with all that baggage that he had been carrying around on his shoulders. “Binnie,” Y/N finally said. “I’m sorry that you felt that way because you don’t deserve it, and I would never invalidate your feelings and tell you that you had no reason to feel a certain way. It actually makes sense to me, which is why I’m really glad you said something. Because you like to keep your feelings bottled inside, and I hate to see you suffer when you do.” 

She sighed, reaching for his hand to connect their fingers. “Just because we’ve grown up,” Y/N said, “it doesn’t mean that you suddenly matter less. I mean, without you, we wouldn’t be this happy, and you contribute so much to that happiness. And I’m not just talking about your job.” 

Changbin swallowed, placing his hand over his chest because his heart was suddenly beating so fast. “I miss the people that I live with,” he said. “How is that possible?”

“You’re feelings don’t have to make sense,” Y/N said. “But they matter because it’s you, and I want to do everything to help, and I’m sure the others would feel the exact same way.”

Changbin nodded, slowly, and he wasn’t sure what to make of all those feelings just sitting out there - raw and vulnerable, but he was also quite certain that he could trust Y/N. “I’ve never felt like this while living here,” Changbin said. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Let’s just start by talking like this whenever we have problems,” Y/N whispered. “You might think I’m pushing you away, but you’re still one of the only people who understands everything that I went though before I came here. Nobody can replace the level of comfort I feel with you.”

Y/N’s words were heavy, but not in a suffocating kind of way. Instead, it felt like a warm embrace, and Changbin just managed to hold back his tears at the sincere expression. “Thank you, Y/N,” Changbin finally said. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“I might know something,” Y/N said, and her voice suddenly took on a teasing tone. “Is she pretty?” Y/N asked, and Changbin couldn’t fight his smile.

“She’s beautiful,” Changbin said, and Y/N laughed with her usual playful inflection as she leaned in closer.

“We could go on double dates,” Y/N whispered, and Changbin laughed at the innocent smile stretching the corners of her lips. “But, seriously? Don’t hide these feelings from any of us, Changbin. We all care about you, and maybe it’s time we return the favor after all those years of letting you protect us.”

Changbin nodded - it was all that he could manage. “That might be nice.”

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed. “I think so too.”

And then they were both quiet after that - resigned to these new and confusing feelings. But they had each other to figure them out, and that was enough for Changbin to feel completely unburdened. 

Changbin called Sara on a Sunday afternoon - the only day of the week when he wasn’t required to work at the post office. He knew that the mechanic shop was closed, but Sara was perfectly willing to meet him. “I think we’re interested in the SUV,” Changbin told her over the phone, and Sara was just fine scheduling an appointment.

That was over an hour ago, and Changbin hesitated at the sight of Sara waiting near the entrance to the main office. Because, unlike what he suggested over the phone, there was something else that Changbin planned to ask her, and it was scary to think about what might happen. Especially if she told him no.

But Changbin was an adult, and he didn’t plan to spend all day cowering in Chan’s car, so he met Sana outside with a smile that he hoped wouldn’t give away his nervousness. “Hi,” Changbin said, holding up a hand in greeting.

“There you are,” Sara said, and she looked nothing short of elegant in her dress pants and blouse - like she had gotten all dressed up for this occasion. “Are you ready?”

Changbin nodded, and he spent the time that it took for them to make their way across the street to reorganize the chaos of his rampant thoughts. Meanwhile, Sara had grabbed the keys to the SUV that he wanted to buy, and she was busy opening all the doors to air out the stuffy interior. “It’s fairly updated,” she told him, demonstrating the power windows and bluetooth radio system. “What do you think?”

“It’s better than the van,” Changbin admitted, and it was nice that there weren’t stains all other the leather upholstery.

“I think it’ll make a worthy substitute,” Sara agreed. “We’re selling it for $4,500, but I’m willing to negotiate the price, especially for you.”

Changbin glanced up at that because his heart had skipped several beats at the idea of Sara doing something for him. “It would really help us out,” Changbin said. “You’ve been amazing considering everything that’s happened.”

“Yeah, well, I can tell that you’re worth the extra effort,” Sara said, and Changbin couldn’t believe his ears because it sounded too good to be true. Almost like Sara was flirting with him.

But maybe this was the opening that he had been looking for...

“I’d really like to make it up to you,” Changbin said, and he hoped that those words sounded sincere instead of something akin to a business deal.

“Really?” Sara asked, flashing him a warm smile. “What do you mean?”

“If you want,” Changbin said, pausing for a moment to exhale. “I’d like to take you out sometime.”

“Oh?” she grinned, leaning against the SUV next to him, and Changbin could feel her soft breath since they were suddenly very close together.

“I’d really like that,” Sara replied, and Changbin’s shoulders fell at his relief upon hearing her confirmation.

“Are you sure?” Changbin asked because he was always doubting himself. “I mean, you don’t have to-”

“Changbin,” Sara interrupted, taking another step closer to the point where it felt like they were sharing the same air. “I want to be with you, and I’m glad that you asked me because I don’t want this to be nothing more than a mechanic helping out a customer. Do you understand?”

Of course, he did, but that didn’t stop Changbin’s stomach from doing somersaults while he desperately tried to compose himself. “How do you feel about double dates?”

Sana laughed at that, and, for the first time since before he could remember, Changbin felt completely at ease.

[badboysdoitbetter]

— the bet | sc | part two

pairing: raian kure x reader

fandom: kengan ashura

genre: fluff, angst; asshole!raian, friends to enemies to lovers!AU

tags/warnings: violence, mild sexuality, swearing, mutual pining, (seemingly) unrequited love

word count: 1.2k

synopsis: you and raian both like each other, but neither of you know how to show it. that is, until raian comes up with a bet to get you to go out with him: he just has to beat you in combat. too bad you’re stronger than he thought...The first thing you heard when you woke up was the constant beeping of the EKG machine. From all your time as a fighter, you immediately recognized the medicinal air and took notice of the blue-blanketed bed you were in.

read before: part one

Although disoriented, you knew that you were in a hospital and that Fusui was sleeping in the uncomfortable pleather chair right beside you.

Raian put me in here—Where is he, anyway?

Saddened, you laughed at yourself for even thinking he'd be sorry.

Why would the person who voluntarily beat me to a pulp be here to apologize? It's not like the entire thing was his fault...oh wait, it was!

Shifting, you went to pull the pulse oximeter off of your finger, causing the EKG to let out a constant buzz in the process.

Fusui woke up at the sound, and immediately tried to keep you in place.

"You're hurt, (Y/N)! Raian almost killed you!" Her eyes were bloodshot, and you couldn't tell if it was from crying or the fact that she'd been sleeping just moments before. "I'm so sorry for putting you up to the fight. I just knew you liked him and I—"

You clenched your fists.

"No, Fusui, it's Raian's fault for not listening to me. I told him a million times that I was done." Tears pooled in your eyes but you tried to hold them back, "But he just wouldn't listen to me." A tear slipped down your cheek involuntarily, and you made no move to wipe it away. Your voice was soft, and Fusui could tell that you'd been more hurt than you were letting on. "Why wouldn't he just listen?"

"I—I don't know what to say besides that I'm sorry." She took your hand in hers and gave it a light squeeze in an attempt to comfort you. "I am sorry, (Y/N), and I'm sure Raian is too...He just doesn't know how to express it."

With that, Fusui pulled her hand away from yours, and you noticed that she'd replaced it with a note. "He told me to give you this if you woke up before he came to see you, so please just read it, okay?"

You closed your eyes, unable to hold to tears back any longer. As you ripped the note and threw it in the wastebasket by your bed, the only thing that marked Fusui's leave was a slam of the hospital room's door.

"Can I leave yet, Doc?"

"Well, (Y/N), it looks like you have two broken ribs, a minor concussion and a hairline fracture in your ankle, so you'll have to wear this boot for a few weeks, and remember not to anything too physically or mentally strenuous, but you'll be fine."

"Is that a yes?" The doctor sighed, knowing you probably wouldn't take any of his advice.

"Yup, you're good to go."

Smiling slightly, you kicked your shoes on and put on your regular clothes, completely disregarding the doctor's order to wear a boot on your fractured ankle.

Walking through town to get to your apartment, you checked your reflection in your phone in case you saw someone you knew, and you noticed the tear-stains had almost completely faded.

That was until you saw Raian chatting it up with some bitch across the street to your house.

Are you fucking kidding me?

You ran up the stairs, unlocking your front door and slamming it behind you, angered and heartbroken at the sight you'd just seen.

You didn't hear Raian call the girl "Imouto" or notice that she had the same black scleras that he possessed.

You just ran.

The moment you locked the door of your apartment, you almost let out a cry of frustration.

My day just keeps on getting better and better, doesn't it?

In front of you stood yet another member of the Kure Clan, albeit the one you hated the least right now.

"What do you want, Henzo?"

His black eyes met your own.

"Raian knows your mad at him, but he wanted me to tell you that you should meet him at the field where you fought, at the time he wrote on the note."

"Get out." He stood up and brushed past you to get to the door.

"He's sorry."

"So I've heard."

God, he was so attractive when he was sweaty, though.

You'd calmed down completely later that day, and as the sun set and the moon took its place, you covered yourself in a blanket mountain and fell asleep, upset but finally accepting the fact that Raian wouldn't be apologizing for what he did.

At least that's what you thought until you heard your door open at precisely 3:37 am.

"(Y/N)! What the hell!" His voice rang through your small apartment. "I waited for eight goddamn hours at the field with flowers and candles to give you a proper date!"

He was in your bedroom now, but as disoriented as you were, you knew that coming into your apartment in the middle of the night was not okay. Throwing your covers off of your form, you stood up, not caring about your exposed legs or barely-covered panties.

"You beat me until I was bloody, didn't visit my hospital room, didn't apologize to me, sent your cousin to talk to me, and the worst part is that you started FLIRTING WITH ANOTHER GIRL RIGHT AFTER! AND NOW YOU BREAK INTO MY APARTMENT, SHOUTING AT ME BECAUSE I DIDN'T WANT TO SEE YOU?"

You slowly walked closer to him, getting in his face. Your voice was cracking as you looked away from Raian, but he was only focused on your beautiful frame in that overly tight t-shirt.

"Wait, what? I don't know who you're talking about—" You two were so close together Raian could feel your breath fanning his neck.

"Don't lie, Raian. I saw you with her." He racked his memory, thinking of what you could mean. Does she seriously think there's a girl hotter than her?

Wait, Karla? "That was my cousin, (Y/N)!"

"Sure it was. You know what, fuck you, Raian."

He leaned towards you, lips centimeters away from your own.

"Please do." The sexual tension in the room was almost suffocating, and it took almost every fiber of your being protesting against your actions to keep you from jumping his bones right then and their. Laughing, you turned away from Raian, getting ready to move back towards the bed... alone. Raian, however, had other plans.

Gripping you by the waist, he pushed himself as close to you as he could, and in an instant, his lips were attacking your own, locking the two of you in a battle for dominance.

Pulling you over to the bed, Raian looked you in the eyes to make sure you were okay with how far things were about to go, and, with a lust-filled gaze, the only thing you could do was smile back at him.

Turning off the lamp on your bedside table, Raian gently laid you down onto the mattress before climbing on top of you, and, before long, an intimate dance between the sheets had begun.

Waking up the next morning, you saw an arm draped across your torso and felt a hard body beneath you. Looking towards Raian's deceitfully peaceful face, you hoped it would stay this peaceful forever.

Eyes fluttering, he grabbed you tighter, looking into your eyes. "You know, without makeup, you kinda look like Great-Grandpa Erioh."

Laughing, you didn't think much of his bluntness. This was the guy you were in love with after all.

Out of all the guys on the planet, I'm glad I chose this one.

[calliecat93]

I saw your latest ask meme and thought I’d ask you for the classic criteria. Grimmons perhappeth? Thanks!

I am on it! Okay so this has... 40+ questions on it? Ho boy... well RIP my fingertips. But for you dear Anon, I will endure it!

how did they first kiss? Gosh, ugh... so this is going off my headcanons about if Grimmons was always canon and happening all along. So during Blood Gulch, they’re both bored, Sarge is driving them cray, Donut isn’t doing them any favors, and I absolutely believe that Grif has had a crush on Simmons since basic. I believe that at some point... lets say during the in-between time of the first two seasons, Grif finds out about Simmons being a virgin and mocks him relentlessly as you would expect. Eventually, Simmons gets genuinely pissed and snaps at him, also in part due to going as crazy form boredom/his own crush that he’s ignoring. So Grif... well... offers to fix that problem. At first Simmons thinks that Grif’s finally lost it and refuses, but Grif kinda talks him into it and the more that Simmons contemplates it, the harder it is for him to ignore the urge. They don’t really have ‘sex’ the first time since Simmons is... well, Simmons so Grif at most probably gave him a handjob or something as a preview of what’s to come. But it did end with Simmons giving into it and kissing Grif, to both of their shocks. Simmons frantically pulled back, but Grif encouraged him to continue and they both ended up liking it and would continue in private as they explored this new relationship. So yeah, they’re first kiss was in a heat of passion, but a kiss nonetheless... and WOW did I go on with that answer XD

who flirts more? Grif. Easily. I’m not even sure if Simmons realy understands the concept of flirting, but he tries. He’s just... not good at it. Grif though? He has no problems.

how did the relationship start? Okay so I explained my theory about the ‘friends with benefits’ thing int he first ask, so lets talk about how it became an actual relationship. The friend with benefits thing would be something that keeps going until the transfer out of Blood Gulch. By the time that they got to Rats Nest, Grif had realized that he was in love with Simmons, but Simmons was still unsure. Mainly he realized that he was falling for Grif, but due to his own insecurities was terrified of making the commitment. He felt bad for dragging Grif along into something that Simmons feels that he can’t keep so sometime before they’re about to be executed he broke it off. Grif was unhappy because he knew by then that Simmons felt the same, but refused to accept it. Simmons came close to admitting it when they’re about to be executed, but Grif derailed it since he was still pissed and didn’t want to hear it t death’s door. This would continue during Recollection and I can see them having a moment or two of weakness during Valhalla, like Simmons using Holo-Grif to satisfy his needs/they to make himself confess, but all it does is make the strain worst. So how does it get fixed? Well they start to do better after escaping Wash and the Meta with Grif agreeing to give Simmons time, but he can only wait for so long. What finally gets Simmons to accept his feelings is when Grif almost falls off the cliff. During whatever they were doing before Carolina showed up, and probably during it too, Simmons came to terms with how he felt, got Grif alone, took the initiative without Grif needing to provoke him to for the first time, kissed him, and finally confessed his feelings. Grif found it nerdy and cheesy as Hell... but dear Lord did he give into it. From there, there were still issues as with any relationship, but they’ve been in love ever since.

how did they start living together? do they move? how do they choose the place? They both got shipped to Blood Gulch. They didn’t get a choice in it. As for how the move went, I assume that they had little time to get whatever they had together. Simmons got his stuff all nice and organized and loaded it onto the Pelican... and Grif just threw all of his stuff haphazardly into it. So during the whole trip Simmons had to clean it up, cursing at Grif at every moment, while Grif napped during the entire trip.

do they have roommates? Sarge, Donut, Lopez, and sometimes the Blues and Carolina depending on if they get separate bases or not. They all drive each other crazy, but it does make being intimate difficult when neither Donut or Tucker will quit prying about it.

do they get married (or equivalent)? I want to believe that when they do eventually have a moment on Earth to do so, they will get married. For now, they’re unofficially married. I think maybe they’ve talked about the idea and Grif suggesting they go tot he Vegas Quadrant and just do it there before anyone can find out.

do they have kids? No. If Geoff is to be believed, thy will when science is possible but I don’t take that seriously, especially since he said that a decade ago. If they did though, I’d be all for it!

do they have pets? No. I headcanon that Grif had a cat back home because Sister found one and she made him let her keep it. They have a love-hate relationship since it kept taking his food. Before going to basic, Sister left it with an old woman who lives int he same apartment building and it is being well taken care of still.

do they act different in public and at home? Not really. At most, they act less like a couple in public because Simmons isn’t comfortable with the relationship being out int he open still. But that’s about it, otherwise they act the same no matter who they’re around.

big spoon/little spoon? In the beginning Grif is the big spoon and Simmons is the little spoon. Once Simmons is more okay with the entire thing? It just depends.

sleeping habits? Simmons only sleeps when he absolutely has to and is very strict about getting at least eight hours of sleep at night. But he will shrink that if he has a load of work to do... which is often, so Grif will normally ‘trap him’ (i.e. lays on him) to make him nap with him. As for Grif, he’ll sleep whenever and can sleep anywhere. I do think that he doesn’t like to sleep alone, especially after S15, and can’t without some kind of background noise due to the isolation. But otherwise, he can and will sleep anywhere whenever.

favorite non-sexual activity? Standing and talking

favorite sexual activity? Umm... I’m not sure. Probably casual, lazy sex where they’re in no rush and just do whatever.

how often do they have sex? Whenever they have the open opportunity... so probably like every other day.

what habits of the other drives them crazy? For Simmons it’s Grif’s messy habits like never picking up after himself, for Grif it’s Simmons constant nagging bout those habits.

how often do they fight? All the time

most trivial thing they fight over? Probably over nerd stuff like who was the best Doctor Who or something.

who uses all the hot water? Grif. He doens’t shower much, but when he does... yeah...

who does most of the cleaning? Simmons

what do they watch on tv and do they fight for the remote? Probably stuff like Star Wars or really bad sci-fi films. Yes, and Grif more often than not wins.

who calls up the super/landlord when the heat’s not working? Simmons, after they try to do it themselves and make it worst.

who answers the phone? Whoever is closest to it

who steals the blankets? Grif

who remembers things? Simmons, at least when it comes to military stuff. For date stuff, Grif’s more likely to remember since Simmons is a workaholic and gets so caught up that he forgets.

who does the groceries? They both do and Simmons has to make Grif quit throwing unhealthy stuff int he cart.

who cooks normally? Simmons, even though Grif is the better at it, but that requires work

who leaves their stuff lying everywhere? GRIF

what kind of stuff can be found around their place? Everything...

what do their cupboards or shelves look like? Simmons mostly keeps them all nice and organized... though some of them look a little hap-hazard if Grif just threw stuff up in there.

what does their closet(s) look like? Like a normal closet, although they don’t really have many outfits. It’s mainly their armor and maybe a small amount of causal stuff. Simmons side is all ncie and tidy and Grif’s... well, isn’t.

what do they do when they’re away from each other? Be upset that they’re away from each other. Aside form that, what they normally do.

do they have nicknames or pet names for each other? Kissass and fatass

how do they refer to the other in public? how do other people refer to the other? (i.e. “my partner”, “ask your father”, "dad and papa", "how’s your wife?“, etc) Probably as my asshole teammate’ at first, and eventually shift to ‘my asshole boyfriend’

who is more likely to pay for dinner? Whoever has the checkbook that day

how often do they go on dates? Not too often since there’s nowhere to really go, although Grif considers watching TV a date.

typical date night? out or at home? At home

do they celebrate birthdays, valentine’s day, anniversaries? Not that much. Like they ackowledge them and maybe so something int he evening, but otherwise they don’t... well until Donut drags them into doing it.

what would they get each other for gifts? Oh God... IDK. Grif would probably gt Simmons somehtign he considered nerdy and Simmosn would... IDK, get him a year supply or Oreo’s or something.

how do they spend christmas and new year’s (or equivalent family gatherings)? Dealing with their insane teammates XD

who cusses more? They’re both pretty potty mouthed XD Grif’s more likely to not restrain himself though.

what would they do if the other one was hurt? Rush over to them and do whatever is possible to keep them safe until medical help arrives.

what are little gestures they do for each other? Simmons will often leave Grif food or leave him lunch after Grif complains about it to make him feel better. Grif can normally tell when Simmons is particularly stressed and will do something like actually clean the bed (and maybe a small part of their room, he has his limits) to take some of that off for him along with forcing him to nap with him.

do they know how the other takes their coffee/tea? Yes

do they feel they see each other enough, or do they have activities that take too much of their time? They see each other all the time, so yeah they feel like they see each other plenty. Maybe too much. Although whenever they’re seaperted for so much as a couple of hours, it feels fr too long.

do they friend/follow each other on facebook/tumblr/livejournal/skype/etc? Yes. Grif likes to shitpost at Simmons’ expense XD

morning routine? Simmons often gets up n the early morning, tries to make Grif wake up but give sup after a few minutes. He goes about getting ready and once he’s fully stripped into his armor, he literally kicks Grif out of bed and makes Grif get up. Grif protests by just lying ont he floor until Simmons agrees to make him food. There’s a lot of bantering and morning kisses until Sarge makes them show up for the morning meeting, where Grif goes right back to sleep. On some occasions, Simmons will instead kiss Grif awake and the end up making out until they hear Sarge yelling for them, at which point Simmons makes Grif get into his armor and they go about their day.

how do they make up after a fight? They ignore each other for a few hours and someone like Tucker gets annoyed and tell them to just kiss and make up already. The two eventually can’t take nor seeing the other and they don’t really apologize, but acknowledge that it happened and then move on. That being said, by the end they kiss each other for a long time as a non-verbal apology. No one sees them for the rest of the day, so they know that all is right with the world again.

[fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction]

Family Matters

Not much is known of Meera, and that’s the way she prefers it, even if it means leaving herself alone in the world. Or perhaps she’s not as alone as she thought?

"...and then the kids went and pulled the pinata down! You should have seen it, they were like little hyenas! I'll send you the video!" a bright tone was easy to hear in the young woman's voice on the phone. Meera smiled as she listened, loading her dishwasher and pressing buttons for cleanup.

"Whose birthday was this?" she asked, the speakerphone picking up her question.

"Letti's; she turned eight. Tia Marie splurged on the party and invited the whole family...!" The voice trailed off into the silence of someone who realized they said too much.

Meera smiled tightly despite knowing the phone wasn't set to video calling. "It's okay. I wouldn't have been able to make it anyway. Looking for a job and all that. Bills to pay," she remarked as casually as she could. "Thanks for sending the video though!"

"Have you... reconsidered changing back?" the voice asked quietly.

"No," Meera shook her head, voice firm and resolved. There was silence in the air between her and the voice on the phone. She took a deep breath and pressed the button to key on the dishwasher. "Tell me what else happened this week. Did Lupe get that book he was after?"

"Oh my god, he wouldn't shut up about it! Okay, so what happened was..."

Meera collected her mail and sifted through the letters. A few late payment notices that she set aside to work with and juggle, offers for credit cards she fed to her scented candle, the usual. There were also a few notes from relatives, last names only marked with a 'C' for privacy reasons, addresses from a post box that wasn't connected to a physical location.

She opened those and was treated to a few store-bought greeting cards, signed by those few cousins that still wanted to keep touch in some way. Well-wishes from the older ones, questions of why she never visits from the younger ones, folded bills of money tucked inside pocket envelopes for assistance.

Meera read the notes, counted the money to see which bill would eat them first, and spent a few minutes afterwards in silent tears, burying her face in her arms as she huddled at the kitchen table.

"What do you plan to do for Thanksgiving?" the bright voice on the phone asked, a hint of concern in her tone.

"Same as before," Meera replied with a shrug. She stretched out her legs before tucking them in underneath herself, curled up in her favorite recliner. She would have preferred stretching out on her sofa but it was currently occupied.

"Eating takeout and watching novellas is kind of sad to do for that day," the voice sighed in exasperation. "Are you sure about not changing back?"

"Did you not see the news about Afton Robotics?" Meera countered dryly. "I'm dead serious about what I did and I'm not changing." She stretched out a leg again and wiggled her toes, watching them pass through the translucent blues of the figure sleeping on her couch. "Anyways, takeout and novellas is okay. I can catch up on the episodes I missed while working."

"How about Lupe and I come over and have dinner with you sometime?"

Meera opened her mouth, then closed it, humming in consideration. "You won't get in trouble with the others for it, Adriana?" she asked after a moment. The other woman laughed brightly, but the tone didn't sound genuine.

"Oh, what does it matter? We're family, prima! We stick together!"

Now she felt irritation flare up. "Oh? Like they stuck together when they decided to cut me out and send me as far from everyone as they could?" she bit out, tears she had bottled up on that day springing up hot and resentful.

"They're just scared. Can you really blame them?" Adriana replied softly. There was the faint scratches of pencil on paper and Meera used the lull in the conversation to rub her eyes dry. She wiggled her toes again, smiling a bit at the figure shifting to 'rest' her toes in a spot to allow more constant contact. "So I'll bring those tamales Papi used to make, I got better at making them, and Lupe will bring arroz, and we can make the rest at your place and have dinner together! Just the three of us!"

"You're actually gonna try that?" Meera asked, one eyebrow raising in disbelief.

"Mhm!"

She decided not to put her hopes on it.

Three applications out and no return calls. Meera sighed into her cup of coffee while Stephanie pat her shoulder comfortingly. Their meetups at Meera's favorite coffee shop were starting to lean more to Steph's favor of paying for drinks when before they had been on equal footing. It hurt but Meera was grateful all the same for being able to go to her calm spot.

"You think people know I'm the one responsible for Afton Robotics imploding like that?" she whispered, looking up at Steph with wounded puppy eyes. The fashion designer sighed and shook her head slightly.

"I doubt it. Your name was never properly registered, right? All they know is a man named Eggs Benedict managed to wreck the place and set off an explosion that took out the front business." She gave a little shrug. "There's not even word of the underground facility being discovered."

Meera sighed again. Small miracle, that. She still wasn't sure if the Master File's source code was still active down there. She hoped not, for people's sakes. Not with the Afton Family's plans for manipulating life and death still in its clutches....

"Have you tried applying for college again? Maybe some education can open more opportunities!" Steph suggested. Meera cringed, clutching her mug closer to herself.

"Kinda dropped out at one point before I took that job at Circus Baby's. I don't think they'd be happy if I came back with debts on my head and acting like I can just pick up where I left off," she replied. Not to mention that she would have to fill out the information honestly and that would raise some red flags in conflict with her identification.

"What about opening your own shop? Teach classes on self-defense?" Steph tried another idea. Meera lifted her head from her slump, blinking as she thought it over.

That could work, if she had the money to start a business. If she started her own, her identity wouldn't matter to anyone but herself and the institutions who were already aware.

"I'll look into it," Meera replied and then waved her hand to shoo the subject away. "So tell me about this guy you've been seeing. Is he cute? Is he sweet? Does he have any available siblings?" She smiled widely at her friend's sputtering and stammering, enjoying the lighter side of their get-together.

"Weeeeeee-" Stephanie had a habit of dragging out words longer than needed, eyes wide and teeth bared in a smile that made Damien bury his face in Ven's chest to escape it, "-should have a dinner party at your place!"

Meera lifted her head from her hand where she had rested it while looking at her letter tiles for the board game the bunch of them were playing. "Huh?" She blinked, lost, then felt a slight headache come on as Steph continued smiling widely at her. "What?"

"A dinner party! We come over with some dishes, cook the rest at your place, and just have dinner together! It'll be fun!" the fashion designer went on cheerfully.

"It'll be cramped," Meera countered, worry flooding into her stomach and making her skin feel cold. "You know my apartment's tiny."

"I had lunch with you there, it's not that small," Steph shot back with a wave of her hand.

"There's not much I have in the way of groceries for cooking," Meera said, fingers fiddling with the tiles.

"Then we'll just bring everything," Ven replied easily, fingers running soothingly through Damien's hair. "Just go with it. You know how Steph can be."

Meera sighed, a faintly exasperated smile on her face. She knew. "Fine, fine. Just give me time to clean up the place. What time are we doing this?" she gave in with a laugh.

Meera stared at the stack of bills and notices until a hand swept them away from her sight. She blinked and looked up at Lucian's stern expression. "You're supposed to be cleaning, not moping," he told her and walked off with the stack in his hand. "I'll put these away. If you can stand there for hours looking at these, imagine how captivating they might be for someone else."

She couldn't help but smile at his words. Scolding as they sounded, she knew the words he actually meant underneath them. Feeling a bit better, Meera went back to dusting off shelves and tables, tidying up her magazines and books, and setting her workout equipment to lock in place for safety.

It used to be she would put on music to keep the apartment sounding lively as she cleaned on her own. The silence otherwise suffocated her and made it to where she could only do small sections at a time before heading out to the garden to relax or watch her shows.

Now she listened to the chatter of her ghostly roommate as he criticized the clutter on her shelves, the clothes she threw into a corner of her room when she didn't feel bothered to put them in the laundry basket, and the lack of maintenance of her vacuum cleaner when he hauled it out to use on the carpet. Meera still had music on, but it was tuned to the energetic dance songs of mariachi bands, giving her the chance to grin and laugh when a particularly nice one came on and Lucian danced to the melody with the vacuum as his partner.

She danced along as she continued her part of the cleanup, feeling lighter than before.

"...and that's why my last commission has a ten-year-old's doodle incorporated in it!" Ven declared with a rueful smile over a glass of mixed juice. Meera found herself laughing along with Steph and Damien at the story.

The apartment was full of sound and warmth from the talking and cooking that had taken place. The dinner table was laden with food, enchiladas and Shepherd's pie and chicken curry and spinach leaf salad and cheesecake. A variety of foods that Meera wouldn't have thought she'd be eating in one dinner had been shared, which made her appreciate her friends that much more.

Stories of childhoods were shared, and Meera shared a few memories of her own, carefully sifting out any unneeded information and focusing on the fun she had playing family games. Sometimes she would wave a hand dismissively whenever Lucian poked his head up from the sofa to squint at her for her words. It didn't matter.

The phone rang, interrupting the group as they portioned out dessert to take to the living room and continue chatting in a more relaxing area. Meera gave it a puzzled look but headed over to pick up. A debt collector? Had her notices and final warnings caught up to her at last?

"Meera~!" Adriana's voice was bright and chipper as always on the phone. She pulled it away from her ear for a moment before daring to hold the receiver close again. "I am sooo sorry! Things came up and I had to babysit some of the cousins and Lupe went out of town for his 'supplies'." Meera gave a sad smile and shook her head in fond exasperation. "I really wish we were able to come by to have dinner with you. I can't stand to think of you out there by yourself. Family matters, no matter what the others in it think!"

By herself...?

She blinked, confusion on her face. That's right. She'd been sent out to be on her own, away from family that could be dragged down because of who she chose to be and the path she took in life. And yet...

Meera looked over at the group of people that had come into her life since moving to the town to live on her own. There was her ghostly companion talking casually with Damien about the Shepherd's pie and cheesecake he'd brought, eyes glancing up to check on her now and then. There was Ven, smiling happily as he bit into a forkful of cheesecake and flicked through the channels on her television for something they could watch. There was Stephanie, watching her with concerned eyes as if sensing her discomfort as easily as her twin could.

"Everything all right, Meera? We're setting up to watch a movie as soon as I get the remote away from Ven," Steph called out.

"Eh? Who is that? You have guests over?" Adriana remarked in surprise, and Meera returned to her phone call, a more genuine smile on her face.

"Oh, I have some friends over," she replied, "We had dinner and we're about to watch a movie. I'll talk to you and Lupe another time, all right?"

"Uh, of course! Have fun!" Adriana told her brightly and Meera put the phone down before hurrying back to collect her serving of cheesecake and join the group for movie night.

Family mattered to her, but to Meera, her friends were family too. Maybe one day, she'd have the courage to share with them the truth of who she was, but for now, this warmth and love chased away the chill of loneliness. For that, she was grateful.

END

[faierius]

In His Shoes (1. Can’t We All Just Get Along?)

The boys forget how to work together, but a daemon will force them to remember how.

Here’s the first chapter of the new body swap fic I’m working on! Features Promptis and Gladnis. @prettyprompto

Read on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12330459/chapters/28037307

               This was like nothing any of them had ever seen before. The group was well-versed in combat with daemons, ranging from fantastical beasts to humanoid creatures. They had seen ones as beautiful as the Glacian and as horrendous as the most unspeakable nightmares. This daemon was a freakish mishmash of things both stunning and frightful.

               Standing tall, at least eight feet, this horrifying monstrosity was dizzying to look at. Features both distinctly masculine and feminine flowed across the entire monster in a bizarrely seamless patchwork. The genderfluid face changed expressions rapidly, a flickering concoction of two very distinct beings. Two separate entities warring over one body.

               Screaming and roaring with two voices, the daemon’s clumsy, lumbering movements had an organized disarray to them. Like two people who used to work well together, but had forgotten how. Its motions, its attacks, everything about this daemon was unnerving.

               None of their retaliations worked. Each attack, defense, spell they used was simply shrugged off. This never-before-seen creature easily beat them back, crushing them, thwarting their every attempt at bringing it down.

               They were exhausted.

               Noctis stumbled after a failed swing, tripping Ignis in the process.

               “Watch your bloody footing, Highness!”

               “Bite me, Specs!”

               “Why should I take away the one thing Prompto seems so good at?”

               “Leave him out of this!”

               “Pay attention!” Gladio barked, sidestepping the business end of Ignis’ lance.

               “Hey, guys? Little help here!” Prompto called, firing at the daemon while ducking a swing of its massive hand.

               “Deal with it,” Gladio snarled back.

               “Hey!”

               “Don’t want to hear it, Noct!”

               Both vocal and not, internal and external, the men heard a shout. Enough!

               Stopping dead in their tracks, the group focused their attention on the monster. Stunned, fuzzy-eyed, their faces fell slack as they stared. It turned its ever-shifting face on each of them, a constant string of unintelligible words filling the air around the team.

               Entranced, they watched with vacant eyes. Heavy eyes. Heavy limbs. Unsteady limbs. Soon they could no longer hold themselves up, their legs giving out beneath them. All at once, the boys hit the ground and passed out.

 ~A Few Hours Earlier~

                “I’m just sayin’ it’s not easy,” Noct grumbled, crossing his arms as he sank low in his seat.

               “What, Noctis?” Ignis snipped back. “What isn’t easy? Sleeping until noon, or being waited on hand and foot? Please, I would very much like to know.”

               “Hey, that’s kinda uncalled for, isn’t it Iggy?” Prompto piped up from the passenger seat.

               “Says the guy who gets to benefit from His Highness’ laziness,” Gladio grumbled.

               “What? I do more to help than you do!” Prompto pointed out, spinning around in his seat to face Gladio.

               “You tellin’ me I don’t carry my weight?”

               “Gladio assists me when I ask,” Ignis stated.

               “Oh surprise, surprise. You’re jumping to his defense,” Noct grumbled, giving the driver’s seat a light punch.

               “I am merely pointing out facts. Something you seem keen on ignoring.”

               “Oh yeah?” Noct inquired, brows raised. “And which facts are those?”

               “Try the fact that while you’re dragging us around to help out Hunters and vendors, the Empire is still plotting our deaths,” Gladio answered.

               “Believe me, I haven’t forgotten.”

               “So you just want to pretend nothing’s wrong?”

               “Leave him alone, you big bully,” Prompto told Gladio.

               “At least I’m not a little coward!” retorted Gladio, crossing his arms.

               The interior of the car erupted in shouts of varying volume from all four men. Long restrained criticisms came to light as they slung petty, childish insults at one another. Gladio’s snoring. Prompto’s overly enthusiastic nature. Noctis’ sulking and noisy eating. Ignis’ long, dull lectures.

               Too many days on the road, spending long hours either confined in the car or tent had taken its toll on the group. Immature complaints sprung forth, barbed and meant to wound. They were all exhausted, filthy, aching, and at the ends of their respective ropes.

               “I’ve had more than enough of this!” Ignis barked as he slammed on the brakes.

               A comment about over salted skewers died on Prompto’s lips as he grabbed the dashboard. “Holy crap, dude!”

               Pushing the door open, Ignis got out of the car and walked a short distance from the vehicle while the others watched.

               “You idiots did it now,” Gladio spat, pushing himself out of the car as well. He followed after Ignis, leaving Noctis and Prompto behind.

               Prompto stared at the two men, eyes wide. He could see Ignis’ shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. “I’ve never seen him act like this,” he commented, turning toward Noctis.

               “Who cares?” Noct grumbled, slouching low and propping his chin in his hand. “He’ll get over it.”

               “He’s pretty mad, dude.”

               “So am I! But I guess that doesn’t mean anything.”

               “Course it does, Noct,” Prompto sighed, reaching between the seats to put his hand on Noctis’ knee. “We all just need to calm down.”

               “What we need is a hotel and separate rooms.”

               “And a bath.”

               Noctis nodded his agreement.

               With a soft chuckle, Prompto patted Noct’s leg and turned back around. He knew Noct was back to sulking, but he was feeling pretty crummy, too. He wouldn’t give up his relationship with Noctis for anything, and he couldn’t do anything about Gladio and Ignis being together, not that he would change that either, but something had to be done. He hated how they were all at one another’s throats.

               In the middle of the highway, Ignis and Gladio appeared to be having a similar conversation. Ignis was fuming, Gladio setting a hand on his arm to calm him. It was an odd shift in dynamic, but this was an odd circumstance for them. Little arguments were common, but they had never blown up like this before.

               Prompto watched Ignis take a deep breath and adjust his glasses while Gladio kissed the top of his head. With a final reassurance, they came back to the car. No one said a word. Ignis kept his eyes locked dead ahead as they resumed driving. Silence, heavy and oppressive, settled over them. It was almost worse than the yelling.

               An hour passed without so much as a sniffle, and the sun began to dip behind the horizon. Ignis pulled the car onto the side of the road and they piled out. Gathering their gear, they headed to the nearby Haven. No one was stupid enough to complain about spending yet another night in the tent.

               They set up camp and ate dinner in complete silence. Ignis, still clearly angry, cooked one of Gladio’s favorite dishes with a heaping helping of beans as a side dish for Noct’s sake. Petty though it may have been, it made the bespectacled man feel a hint better.

               After dinner, Noct grabbed Prompto’s hand and tugged him away from camp. No questions or bids to be careful followed, and Noct fount it hurt more than he cared to admit. Annoyed, he yanked Prompto behind him.

               “Noct, where are we going?”

               “Dunno.”

               “We aren’t safe out here after dark,” Prompto reminded him.

               “We’re barely safe during the day!”

               “Noct, stop!”

               Sighing heavily, the man stopped. The stillness of the forest pressed in on him despite Prompto standing right behind him. The blond didn’t say anything, just wrapped his arms around Noctis’ waist and put his forehead on the man’s shoulder. Closing his eyes, he focused on Prompto’s warmth.

               “I don’t want to be angry,” he mumbled. “But they’re pissing me off so much.”

               “I know, pal. We’re all in the same boat.”

               The ground rumbled beneath their feet.

               “Uh, Noct? Was that you?”

               “Pretty sure Titan wouldn’t help this situation any.”

               The ground shook again, rustling the leaves in the trees surrounding them.

               “Maybe we should head back?”

               A bright light flashed through the trees. A mournful howl followed. Noctis summoned his weapon.

               “Seems like a good time to burn off some anger,” he growled, breaking out of Prompto’s grip and running into the forest.

               “Noct, wait!”

[gray-autumn-sky]

Meant to be Yours, Chapter 28

Henry struggles to process some of the darker parts of Regina’s past and Robin and Regina learn more about Henry’s former foster parents and their connection to the fairy tale world.

Previous chapters can be found HERE.

It had taken more than an hour of laying in the darkness for Regina to fall asleep, but finally, she had. Robin stayed up a little longer than that, staring up at the ceiling, almost as though waiting for her to wake up.

This is how he’d spent the last several nights, and it was becoming something of regular routine for them--and though he wasn’t going to complain about falling asleep night after night with Regina at his side, his stomach was constantly in knots and he was exhausted. He realized, though, that this was how she lived. She lived with a constant gnawing at her core, just waiting for her secrets to be revealed, just waiting to be discovered, just waiting for the karma to kick in. She lived in fear of losing the life she’d built for herself--of losing her second chance, of losing her son--and there wasn’t anything that he could say or do to quell that feeling. So, instead, he’d lay beside her, reminding her of the good things she had in her life--the good she’d done, the people who loved her unconditionally. Sometimes, it seemed like it worked and other times, it seemed like she’d simply got too tired to argue--but regardless of which it was, each night, he’d lay with her, coaxing her to sleep with the same reassurances that he could hope weren’t empty.

He knew that she’d hurt people. He knew that people were going to be angry, that they’d want their revenge on the queen that had cursed them. But he also hoped that when they were able to take a step back, they’d also see the good she’d done for them. Of course, she’d done it all for the wrong reasons--she’d wanted to hurt them, she wanted them to be as miserable as she was--but the curse hadn’t panned out the way they’d once feared that it would. The people who’d been punished most by the curse were the people who’d hurt her--and even then, their lives were far less terrible than they’d anticipated as threat of the Dark Curse was wielded. Snow and Charming had lost one another, the Mad Hatter lost his daughter--but, the vast majority of families stayed together. Granny Lucas and Ruby didn’t have a life much different than the one they’d left behind, and those who’d never crossed paths with the queen found themselves doing the same things they’d done in the Enchanted Forest, just modern versions of them. Most weren’t given painful backstories or difficult memories to live with; and while, losing their memories--which could easily be argued meant they’d lost their sense of self--they were happy in the lives the curse had given them. They had good jobs and a roof over their heads, they had friends and family, and day-to-day, they didn’t face anything challenges outside the usual ones. Life in Storybrooke could be dull--and he supposed that could be true for most small towns--but, they were safe in Storybrooke. There was a sense of community that hadn’t been present in the Enchanted Forest, and modern amenities had vastly improved life--and all of those things existed in their world because of Regina.

She wasn’t as vindictive as they’d all assumed. He could easily remember the constant fear--and looking back, that’d been the worst of it. Every prediction they made was filled with fire and brimstone, pain and agony--they’d all assumed she’d curse them to a literal hell, where they’d spent an eternity paying for what a mad woman perceived to be the sins committed against her.

And he hoped they’d remember that when the curse broke, that they’d be able to take a step back and realize how much worse it could have been--and though, he didn’t like to think of it, he hoped that whatever punishment they decided was necessary--if one had to be necessary at all--they were lenient. They’d never know what was in her heart--they’d never know about the tortured sleepless nights or the guilt that ate away at her, and they’d never know the regret she felt. But he hoped they’d empathize, that they’d see her as a flawed person who made mistakes--but a person, nonetheless.

That evening, she’d been walking on eggshells, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Henry had taken so much in stride, and she was convinced that he hadn’t completely processed, that there was some disconnect between the woman he knew as his mother--the woman who’d saved him when she adopted him and the Evil Queen who’d hurt so many innocent people. Robin, of course, told her it wouldn’t happen, that she was worrying unnecessarily--but that was what he had to say and it was what she needed to hear. Though he doubted Henry’s reaction would be far less severe than she anticipated it’d be, he knew there would be a reaction--even if it were a delayed one.

Understandably, it was a lot of an eight-year old to take in--his mother was a fairytale villain who’d cursed thousands of people and murdered thousands more in a quest for revenge--and, he likely wasn’t sure what to do with that information. It seemed too far-fetched to be true--and the only thing that linked her past and her present--in his eyes--was a magical storybook. Then, of course, there were the other things he was dealing with simultaneously--things that were more urgent feeling than his mother’s unsavory past. His foster parents being in Storybrooke had quite obviously been a jarring realization, and the fear that resonated in his eyes was heartbreaking. He was terrified of them and finding them in the storybook hadn’t helped--and, it was understandable that he looked to the Evil Queen--to his mother--and saw a protector. She had magical powers and would stop at nothing; she was someone to be feared, someone who broke the rules and didn’t care who got caught in the crossfire. The Evil Queen could keep him safe, and that’s what he seemed to be focusing on--and though Regina was skeptical about Henry’s seemingly selective understanding of who she was and what she’d done, he couldn’t see it as a bad thing.

And he supposed, only time would tell how Henry would feel.

“Robin… Robin, are you awake?”  He groans a little as he felt little fingers poking at his arm. “Robin?”

“Henry?” He asks as his heavy eyes flutter opened. “What’s the matter?”

“I… I need to talk to you.”

Lifting his head from the pillow, he tries to focus. “Henry, it’s…” He sighs and doesn’t even bother to look at the alarm clock at his side. “Okay,” he breathes out as he peels back the comforter. “You want to climb in?”

“No,” Henry says quickly, shifting on his feet. “Not in here. I, um… I don’t want to…”

“Oh,” Robin murmurs as he looks to Regina at his side. “Alright, let’s just…”

“Downstairs,” Henry cuts in, taking him by the hand as he gets out of bed, feeling a little unsettled and a little wobbly as he lets Henry lead him out of Regina’s bedroom and to the stairs--and he sighs a little when he sees that the kitchen light is already on. “I was thinking we could have some milk, and… talk.”

Robin nods and lets him lead him down the stairs. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, not exactly.”

“Not exactly?”

“I couldn’t sleep… I just kept thinking about stuff.”

“Stuff… as in… stuff about your mom?”

“Kinda…”

“Ahh, I see,” Robin murmurs back, feeling a knot tightening, still not quite sure where his boundaries are with Henry. “What were you thinking about?” Henry doesn’t respond. Instead, he lets go of his hand as he step into the kitchen. Robin leans against the counter, watching as Henry moves the refrigerator and pulls out a quart of milk, then, drags a stool up to the stove as he reaches for the honey from the cabinet above--and he feels a smile draw onto his lips as he thinks of Regina and her nervous cooking habit. “Do you need help with that?”

“No, I got it.”

“You sure?”

Henry nods. “Uh-huh, I watch my mom do this all the time.”

“Okay,” Robin says, sighing a little as he keeps a watchful eye on the saucepan and the flame beneath it as Henry pours in the milk. “So, um… what did you want to talk about?”

Henry’s shoulders rise and fall as he takes a breath. “The book.”

“Ah…” Robin murmurs as he feels his stomach drop. “Anything specific in it?”

“All of it,” Henry says quietly as he spoons in the honey and starts to stir. “My mom said that you, um… that you knew about it… about the curse and who she really is and… um, all the other stuff.”

Robin holds his breath. “You mean, the things she’s done.”

“Yeah…” Henry replies, his voice barely audible as he focuses down on the milk. “It’s just… you love her so much and you… you know.”

Robin’s eyes slowly close as he takes a breath, suddenly understanding. “Henry,” he breathes out, as he pushes himself away from the counter. “You know your mother loves you, right?” Henry easily nods as he leans up into the tips of his toes and reaches for two mugs. “And you love her…”

“Of course, I do. I just…” His voice trails off and he sighs, his head falling forward as he focuses down into the saucepan. “It’s just…”

“Hard,” Robin murmurs as he comes up behind him, reaching out and stroking his hand over Henry’s hair. “She’s a… complicated person.”

“She’s very complicated.”

“But you know what?” Robin asks, taking a breath as he leans against the small counter next to the stove, watching as Henry ladles the milk into the mugs. “Loving her is so worth it.” Henry looks up and his hazel eyes are teary, his bottom lip trembling--and Robin feels his breath catch his chest, aching as he looks down at Henry, watching as he struggles.

“What if… I… what if I can’t…” Henry sucks in a breath as he looks away. “What if she doesn’t love me anymore?”

“Alright,” he murmurs, reaching around him to turn off the stove. “Come here.” His hands slide up underneath Henry’s arm and he lifts him off of the stool, setting him down on the island countertop at the center of the kitchen. “What’s going on, Henry?”

He watches as Henry’s jaw trembles and the ache in chest begins to throb. “I… I lied to her,” Henry says, sucking in a breath as he pushes out his voice. “I lied to my mom.”

“You did? About what?”

“About… about my nightmare and… and…” He stops, unable to find his words as tears spill down his cheeks.

“Oh, Henry,” Robin breathes out, dipping his head forward and pressing a kiss to the boy’s forehead. “So, you think your mom is going to be mad at you--mad enough not to love you--because you told her a lie?” Again, Henry sucks in a sharp breath and Robin feels him nod. “Henry,” he begins, taking a half step back and bending so that they’re eye-to-eye. “You could purposely light this house on fire, and your mother would still adore you. She’s not going to stop loving you because you didn’t tell her the truth.”

“But… but… what if…”

“Are you afraid of her?” Robin asks abruptly, holding his breath as he stares into Henry’s eyes. “Because…”

“No,” Henry cuts in. “I’m not afraid of her.” Robin lets out a breath of relief as Henry’s eyes press closed. “I just… I don’t want to give her a reason to… to…” His face scrunches, forcing tears from the corners of his eyes. “To give me back.”

“Oh, Henry, that’s never going to happen.”

“But… before… when I was a baby…”

“No,” Robin cuts in, stepping back in and folding his arms around him. “Your mother’s made a lot of mistakes--a lot of terrible mistakes--but giving you up is one that she’ll never make again. I can guarantee that.” Pressing a kiss to Henry’s hair, his arms tighten around him. “Giving you up is the thing she regrets the most and…”

“Really?” Robin pulls back, his head tipping to the side as Henry’s eyes widen. “Of all her mistakes?”

“Yeah,” he says easily. “She loves you that much.” Taking a breath, Robin forces a smile onto his lips, ignoring the aching in his chest. “Come on,” he murmurs, reaching out and wiping away Henry’s tear tracks with his thumbs. “I’ll make a fire in the living room and we’ll cuddle up with a blanket and drink our milk and talk this out, okay?”

“I’ll grab the milks,” Henry says, taking a breath as he slides down from the counter. “And… thanks.”

Tousling his hair, Robin watches as Henry reaches for the mugs of milk, and then together, they go into the living room. Henry sets the mugs down as Robin starts the fire, and from the corner of his eye, he watches as Henry pulls a knit blanket down from the back of the couch, draping it over his lap as he settles back against the cushions--and he can help but grin as Henry’s feet dangle over the edge.

He grabs both mugs as he sits down beside him, stretching out his feet and resting them easily on the coffee table as he looks down at Henry. “So, let’s start with this,” he says, handing him one of the mugs. “What exactly did you lie to her about?”

Henry takes the mug and looks up at him. “The other day, when I had a nightmare and I wanted to see Archie…”

“Ah…” Robin murmurs, remembering Regina’s suspicions. “That.”

“I didn’t completely lie,” he’s quick to say. “I did have a dream that my old foster parents came and took me away and…” He lets out a breath as his eyes focus on the mug. “But then I tried to go back to sleep and… and I… I did, and then...” Robin watches as Henry presses his eyes closed. “She killed them.”

“Your mom?”

“The Evil Queen.”

“You… do know your mom is the Evil Queen, right?”

Henry nods. “Yeah, I just… that’s so weird to me.” He takes a sip of the milk. “They’re so different.”

“Are they?”

“Yeah…”

“I don’t know,” Robin murmurs. “I think the Regina you know is just… a tamer version of the one in those stories.” He grins a little as Henry’s eyes turn up to look at him. “In a lot of ways, I think the curse tamed her.”

“What do you mean?”

Robin takes a sip of the milk, considering. “Well, before the curse she was just… so full of anger.”

“She had a lot of reasons to be angry.”

“She did,” Robin agrees. “Life was… very unfair to her.”

“But… she also… made a lot other people angry.”

Robin nods. “That, she did.”

“She... killed people and… I just… I don’t understand how she…I mean, her own dad...”

“Yeah,” Robin breathes out as he thinks of the image in the storybook of Regina’s hand plunging into her father’s chest, the look of shock registering in eyes and the complete horror in hers. In that image, her pain had been so visceral and even in the still-framed moment, he could feel her heart racing, her tears threatening to spill over her eyes and the immediate guilt that settled at her core a she whispered that she was sorry, knowing that her words would never be heard. “That’s hard to swallow, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Henry says meekly. “I just can’t… I can’t picture my mom doing… any of those things.”

“It’s hard,” Robin agrees. “It’s hard to just… accept that.”

“But you do,” Henry says, looking up at him with wide eyes. “You accept it.”

“Well…”

“And you’re Robin Hood. You’re a hero and… you… you can… accept that.”

“I can,” he sighs. “It’s not easy and it’s not something that just happens, but I decided that I love her more than I hate the things she’s done.” He takes a sip of the milk, taking a moment to collect this thoughts--remembering how it’d been a snap decision, how he’d been faced with the choice of walking away or staying and he’d chosen to stay--but just because he’d stayed, didn’t mean he condoned the things she done. “You know, you don’t have to sort it out, now,” he says. “Your mom would understand that.”

“I… don’t want her to think I don’t love her.”

“She wouldn’t think that.”

“But…”

“Henry, she knows how hard this is to process. She knows she’s done terrible things… things that some would consider unforgivable.” A grin pulls onto his lips. “And her past isn’t all bad…”

Henry nods. “I know.”

“She’s a fighter. She’s a survivor, and she loves so, so deeply.” He laughs a little as he nudges Henry’s arm. “We’re lucky, you know that?” He smiles as Henry looks up at him. “It’s worth it to take the time to figure her out, to be patient with her and honest with her, and… to love her anyway.”

“You sound like Archie,” Henry says, as a smile tugs up at the corner of his mouth. “He’s always saying stuff like that.”

“About your mom?”

“Just in general,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders.

Robin nods, bending his head to press a kiss to Henry’s hair. “Listen, I know this is a lot on you and I realize that you’re worried about disappointing your mom, but you need to know that you could never disappoint her, Henry.” He sighs as he slides his arm around him. “And, it’s okay if you just want to focus on the good things about her past for awhile. That doesn’t mean you’re ignoring the bad things, you’re just… choosing to see the good in her.”

“Choosing to see the good in her,” Henry repeats with an almost contented sigh. “I like that.”

“You can… deal the rest of it later, just know that she loves you and she’d never hurt you and… no matter what anyone says, she’s a good person.” Henry’s head falls to his chest and he smiles as he pulls away his mug. “And she’s more than paid for her…” His voice trails off as he realize that Henry’s fallen asleep against him, and a soft smile stretches onto his lips as he he glances toward the stairs, wishing more than anything he could this easier on both of them.

_____

Rolling onto her side, she lets out a little sigh and she reaches for him--and when her hand falls into her emptiness, her eyes snap open. She sits up in the bed and looks around, her eyes falling to the alarm clock that hasn’t yet gone off--and she realizes that Robin either turned it off or reset it for a later time. A smile edges onto her lips as she turns to see Robin’s pants slung over the back of the chaise lounge by the window--and she does her best to keep herself in the little bubble they’d created together for themselves and the boys, to keep out thoughts of the curse and Henry’s foster parents and how it would all play out, and just focus on them, for at least the morning.

And then, she’d ease herself into the rest of it.

When she reaches the bottom of the stairs, she takes the first step toward the kitchen, her thoughts filled with making coffee and preparing a breakfast for the boys before school--and then, she smelled the fire.

Turning her head in the direction of the living room, her eyes fell immediately to Henry and Robin, cuddled up together underneath a thick blanket as a fire dwindled at the hearth. Her breath catches in her chest as she stares at them and a warm smile draws onto her lips. As she nears them, she can see Robin’s arm folded around Henry and Henry’s cheek is smushed up against Robin’s t-shirt and his arm stretched over Robin’s stomach--and she grins at two sets of socked feet poking from underneath the blanket.

“Henry,” she whispers softly as she sits down on the edge of the couch, rubbing her hand over his leg. “Sweetheart…” Henry begins to stir and she grins as he cuddles closer to Robin. “Henry,” she says again, just a little louder than before as fingers move to his cheek and then push into his hair. “Hey, you…” She murmurs as his eyes flutter open. “What are you two doing down here?”

“Hm? What time is it?” He asks, lifting his head from Robin’s chest as he blinks at her. “Is it time to get up?”

“It’s about ten to six,” she says in a loud whisper. “So, you’ve still got a little time to sleep before you need to be up for school.”

“Oh…” He breathes out, as his eyes flutter. “That’s… more than two hours.”

“Look who’s doing math,” she says as a soft chuckle rises into her voice as she continues to stroke her fingers through his hair. “Why don’t you go upstairs and sleep for a bit.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a nod, making no effort to move.

“Do you want me to help you go up? Tuck you in?” Again, Henry nods and she takes his hand, gently pulling him up and she smiles as he cuddles into her side as they slowly make their way to the stairs. She helps him into bed and he’s out as soon as his head hits the pillow. She tucks the blanket up around his shoulder and reaches over to turn off the nightlight on his bedside table, and then, she lingers for a few minutes, just watching him sleep--and as it frequently happens, she finds herself completely taken aback by how much she loves him.

Leaning in, she presses a kiss to his cheek, then pulls away, closing the door on her way out. She stops briefly at Roland’s, poking in her head and smiling as her eyes fall to him, sprawled on the bed with his arms and legs stretched out, completely and innocently unaware of the pending chaos that surrounded his life.

Heading back down stairs, she finds Robin where she left him--and momentarily, it occurs to her to just let him sleep, to go on into the kitchen and make herself some coffee and figure to what she’s supposed to with her day. But she can’t yet face it and she doesn’t want to do it alone, so she pads into the living room and sits down on the edge of the couch, pushing herself back as she lifts his arm around her and cuddles close. Her eyes close and she takes in a breath and she finds herself thinking that she can’t imagine going through any of this without him at her side--how much easier it’s been to have someone to talk to, to reassure her, to calm her, and she finds herself wondering what her life would have been like had she had that all along...

Her heavy eyes flutter open and she finds the room much brighter than it was when she sat down. Robin’s arm tightens around her and he presses a kiss to the top of her head and she feels a slight smile tug onto her lips. “Good morning,” he murmurs as she turns her head up to look at him. “You know, I seem to remember falling asleep with another Mills…”

“Henry’s upstairs,” she replies softly as her eyes fall to the coffee table and to the mugs of half drank mugs of now-cold milk. “Did he… have a nightmare?”

“No…”

“Then…”

“He wanted to have a little chat, man to man.”

“Oh,” she murmurs, feeling a flicker of something at her core. “What about?” She sighs as Robin hesitates, and she has her answer. “Me…”

“Yeah,” he breathes out. “We talked a bit about you.” She tenses and her stomach drops, and once more he presses a kiss to her hair. “He loves you, Regina. He loves you so much, he’s just…”

“Struggling.”

“It’s a lot,” Robin tells her. “He’s only eight and…”

“And he has to come to terms with the woman who adopted him--”

“His mother,” Robin cuts in.

“Well, then he has to come to terms with his mother being a tyrannical murderer.”

Robin sighs. “I’m not sure that’s how he sees it… not completely.”

Turning her head up to look at him, she takes a breath and then pulls out of his embrace, taking him by the hand and tugging him up. “I… think I need coffee for this conversation.” A soft chuckle escapes Robin as he follows behind her, loosely holding onto her hand. “So, what happened, exactly?”

“With Henry?” He asks as they enter the kitchen. “Oh, he just… he had a lot on his mind and couldn’t sleep, so he was… trying to figure things out.”

“About my past,” she replies as she releases his hand and moves to the cabinet and reaches for the coffee. “So, he did react to it,” she adds, looking back at Robin from over her shoulder, watching as he leans against the counter. “He just… didn’t want to do it in front of me.”

“Maybe,” Robin murmurs. “I think… he just…wanted another opinion.”

Regina blinks. “Another opinion.”

“He was afraid that if he… questioned you…”

“Oh,” she breathes out, turning sharply toward him. “Is he afraid that I’d….”

“No, no, no,” he cuts in. “He knows you wouldn’t hurt him. In fact, I think he was more concerned about hurting you.” He grins a little, and she’s sure it’s only to calm her. “He’s struggling to process some of the darker parts of your past, things like…”

“Killing my own father…”

“Yeah,” he murmurs in reply. “That… came up.”

Taking a breath, she flicks on the coffee pot. “What did he say?”

“Just that… he doesn’t quite understand it, that he was struggling understand how you could…” Her eyes sink closed. “Regina, I think the big take away here is that he loves you and he wants to understand. He’s eight, though, and I’m not sure that he can understand just yet.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “That’s probably true.”

“Once the curse breaks, maybe…”

“What happens once the curse breaks?” Henry’s voice cuts in, and both she and Robin turn to face him. “Or, actually, wh-what happens if it doesn’t?”

Her chest tightens as she takes a few steps toward him, glancing momentarily at Robin and attempting to draw strength from his encouraging grin. “Well, if it doesn’t then… everyone’s memories sort reset.”

“Like… they’ll forget.”

“Yeah,” she nods. “Everything just sort of fades away.”

“Even Robin’s?”

Swallowing hard, she nods. “Even Robin’s.”

“So, he’d… forget me?” Henry asks, his eyes widening as he looks to Robin. “He’d forget you?” Regina nods as her jaw tightens, her stomach churning as she watches Henry try to process what that would mean for him. “Would I forget?” He asks, his eyes shifting back to Regina. “Would you?”

“No,” she’s quick to say. “You and I wouldn’t.”

“Oh…”

“But the thing is,” Robin says, “The curse will break and I will remember.” She watches as the corner of Henry’s mouth pulls up and she sighs, feeling her stomach drop again as Robin lifts Henry onto the counter. “But it’s a little too early to think about that,” he tells him. “Especially when we could be thinking about your mom’s French toast.”

Henry’s eyes widen a little. “The kind with the cinnamon?”

“Is there any other?

“I should go wake up Roland,” Henry says as he looks between them. “He loves mom’s French toast.”

Regina smiles and her stomach flutters again as Henry hops off the counter and runs up the stairs, seemingly unbothered by the heavy conversation they’d been having only a moment before.

“I… hope you don’t mind,” Robin says as he turns to her.

“About the French toast?” She asks, shaking her head. “No, that’s easy enough, but…” She sighs. “We don’t know that the curse will break.”

“I have faith that it will,” he says, not missing a beat.

“You forget that I have no idea how to do that. My first idea failed--Snow kissed her comatose Prince Charming and…nothing happened.”

“That’s not completely true. He woke up. That's something,” Robin says easily. “You’ll figure it out and… people are remembering, albeit slowly, and…”

“Too slowly to really matter,” she sighs. “It’s already May, Robin. And in August… everything just… goes back.” Her breath hitches in her throat. “And did you see the way he looked when I told him you’d forget. It was…”

“Regina,” he murmurs, cutting in as he reaches for her hand and tugs her to him. “You and I are going to figure this out.”

“You and I…”

“You’re not in this alone, Regina, and besides, even if we don’t figure this out, I won’t forget you or Henry.”

“Robin, you can’t…”

“I fully expect you to slip me some of that remembering potion or whatever it was you fed to me to give me back my memories because I will not forget you.” Taking her by the arms, he draws her in and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Now, we should get started on that French toast, otherwise, we’re going to have two very hungry little boys down here, scowling at us while they eat Cheerios.”

Regina nods and her hand catches his as he attempts to step around her. “I love you,” she breathes out. “You know that right?”

“I do,” he nods, offering her a quick wink as he squeezes her hand. “And I hope it goes without saying that I love you, too.” She nods and releases him, watching as he reaches for a loaf of bread and she desperately tries hold onto their happy little bubble and ignore the rest of the world for just a tiny bit longer.

_____

Robin’s fingers curl down around Regina’s as the school bell rings, indicating the start of the day. It occurs to her that she should turn left toward City Hall and, at the very least, check in to assess the damage done by an impromptu week away--but it’s no more than a thought as Robin tugs her the opposite way toward Main Street.

“You know,” he murmurs soft as they walk slowly toward Granny’s. “I caught a glimpse of that super secret story Henry had to write as part of his homework…”

“Oh?” She murmurs,remembering how he’d disappeared upstairs for more than an hour before dinner, closing his door and not even letting Roland in. “And?”

“Well, I couldn’t read it, but there was definitely an illustration of the Evil Queen--dressed as she’s dressed in Snow White--flying with her cape flapping in the win and…” She sighs a little as s chuckle rises into her voice. “She looked like she was off to save the day.”

“Or ruin it.”

“Not in Henry’s version of the story.”

A grin tugs onto her lips and she looks over to him. “As sweet as it is that he wants to see her--”

“You,” Robin corrects.

“Fine,” she says, bristling a little. “As sweet as it is that he wants to see me as some sort of superhero…”

“Regina,” he cuts in. “Henry’s eight. He’s obsessed with all things superheros and magic, and he’s just found out the mother he adores is an incredibly powerful sorceress who… tosses fireballs and makes potions and can apparate to wherever she wants.” He gives her hand a squeeze as they continue on down Main Street. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing that he’s found something relatable or redeemable in the Evil Queen, and…”

His voice trails off and she chuckles softly. “Henry would be proud of your Harry Potter reference.”

A little grin edges onto his lips. “Don’t tell Roland, but I read ahead.” Her eyes widen a little and she laughs out as they near the patio in front of Granny’s. “What? He falls asleep after, like, a page. Am I just supposed to stop? At this rate, he’ll be forty by the time we finish.”

“Well, ten points to Gryffindor for your determination to get through,” she laughs, remembering the day they’d all sorted themselves, remembering how excited the boys had been. “So… quick breakfast and then…”

“And then we get lost on our way to the bathroom,” he murmurs as he tugs the door open. “Ready?”

“I am,” she breathes out, her voice more confident than she’d expected. “I’m ready to… figure this out and get them the hell out of Storybrooke.”

Robin only nods as Granny ushers them into what’s become ‘their’ booth by the window. Her brow arches when Regina orders toast and coffee and she scoffs at Robin’s oatmeal order, and with a shake of her head, she sighs and disappears toward the kitchen. Only a few minutes later, she brings the order,

“I think she… knows.”

“She can’t,” Robin scoffs as his eyes shift from Regina to Granny. “Well, not exactly.”

“She knows we’re up to something.”

“Maybe, but…” He chuckles softly as he dips his spoon into the oatmeal. “Something tells me if she did know, she’d be on our side.”

“Your side…”

“My side is your side,” he sighs. “Besides, if anything, she thinks the world of Henry. Everyone in this town does, and I think if faced with the choice between the Evil Queen and the foster parents who treated him so terribly, they’d side with the Queen, hands down.”

Her eyes roll, but a smile tugs onto her lips as she bites into her toast--and she can’t help but wonder if that would still ring true if Granny--and anyone else in Storybrooke--knew who she really was and remembered the terrible things she’d done. Her thoughts shift to Mary Margaret, and her little confession about envying the life she and Robin were building together--and once again, she found herself wondering. It wasn’t often that she let herself think beyond the curse--about the fallout and how people would feel, how their opinions would change--and she surprised to find herself caring more than she ever anticipated she would.

But before she can get too lost in her thoughts, Robin’s foot nudges her beneath the table, and a moment later, he slides from the booth and down the long hallway that leads to the bathrooms and the adjoining inn. She waits a few minutes, keeping a watchful eye on Granny and Ruby as she nibbles on the crust of her toast--and then, she tosses down money to cover the cost of their breakfast and meets Robin in the back.

“I feel like she was watching,” she murmurs in a low whisper, as Robin works on the lock.

“She didn’t follow us…”

“She probably thinks we’re having a quickie in the bathroom or…”

A grin tugs onto Robin’s lips as he looks back at her from over his shoulder. “Maybe another time we’ll have to prove her right?” Regina’s eyes roll, but before she can reply, the door opens and Robin tugs her in. “Alright, we’re in...”

“And… what are we… looking for, exactly?”

“Anything useful,” he murmurs, already opening a dresser drawer. “You’ll know when you find something.”

“Will I?”

“Relics from another realm, things with magical properties… this is definitely your thing.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs, taking a breath as she moves to the closet, her eyes falling to an old leather suitcase. “Here goes…”

Robin grins over at her as he opens another drawer. “Make sure to check the linings of that thing.”

She nods, slowly sifting through the suitcase, finding nothing more than men’s clothing and a pair of shoes--then, taking a breath, she runs her hand along the tight fabric that lines the edge, her eyes widening when she feels a hard lump beneath the surface. She looks up to Robin and takes a breath, running her finger along the seam and then a little gasp escapes her when her finger touches to a small tear just behind the seam of the zipper.

“Having fun over there?”

“I… think I found something,” she tells him in a hushed voice as her finger dips between the layers of fabric. “I just can’t quite…” Then, her finger touches to the small, circular object. She smiles victoriously up at Robin as she drag us up and he smiles back. “It's… a… bean,” she murmurs as she drops it into her hand. “It’s…” Her voice stops. “This could open up a portal.”

“I thought the last of them had been been used.”

She nods. “They just became incredibly rare. People hoarded them--fairies and time travelers, mostly--and I remember Rumpelstiltskin was forever trying to get his hands on one to…” Her breath catches in her lungs and her stomach drops. “Why would Henry’s foster parents want to… oh, god.”

“Regina, you don’t know that…”

“Why the hell else would they have something to open up a portal?” She snaps, watching as his eyes soften. “I’m sor--”

“Don’t apologize. You’re right. There is only one reason someone would have that.” He sighs as he plucks a paper bag from one of the drawers and empties it into his hand. “And… I think I know where they want to go.” Regina blinks as the knot in her stomach tightens and Robin pulls a gold compass up from his palm. “This is what they bought at Gold’s shop,” he murmurs. “And, if I’m not mistaken,” he murmurs as he flips it around, “This is a map of Neverland.”

“Neverland…”

He nods and holds it out to her. “The only question is… what’s in Neverland?”

It takes only a few minutes for them to put the room back in order. Robin slips the bean and the compass into his pocket and together, they slip out of the room, walking quickly back to the diner. Regina can feel Granny’s eyes on them as they hurry though the diner, and in different circumstances, she’d be amused by it.

Robin heads toward the library and she heads toward her vault, both in search of learning as much about Neverland as an afternoon will allow.

Her mind reels as she tries to connect it all, meeting dead end after dead end as she tries to figure out how Rumplestiltskin and the Termaines are connected to Neverland, and to each other--and for the life of her, she can’t figure out how Henry would factor in to any of it.

It didn’t surprise her thought that there was some connection. Ever since Emma Swan visited Storybrooke, Rumplestiltskin had been strange toward Henry and it was obvious that her arrival--and perhaps quick departure--had jarred something in him. There was that throw away comment about how charming Henry was and a little laugh had risen up behind the moniker used for Henry’s biological family; and every now and then, she couldn’t help but notice his gaze, the way he focused his attention on Henry whenever they passed by his pawn shop on the way to Robin’s store or the way he’d linger as they passed each other on the way into the diner. But though she noticed it, for the life of her, she didn’t understand it.

With a frustrated sigh, she lets an old dusty book about magical properties across the realms fall into her lap and her eyes close. There’s an aching in her chest and a gnawing at her core that she can’t quite ignore and with each moment that passes, she feels her heartbeat quickening as she thinks of Henry and how terrified he is of his former guardians--the look that resonated in his eyes when he saw them walk by when they’d all been eating ice cream, the way his breath caught in his throat when he noticed the in the book, and the way the light seemed to fade from him when he woke up from the nightmare he’d had about them the other night--and she thinks of how desperately she wants to make it all better for him, to them go away.

Her eyes fly open and her shoulders tense as she hears movement above her, followed by the sound of the passage way opening--and for a brief moment, she forgets that she gave Robin instruction for how to open the vault, should he need to find to find her.

“You really need a better lock,” he says, coming into view from the narrow staircase. “That was unbelievably easy. You made it sound like I’d be challenged--”

“Did you find anything?” She asks, cutting in as her brow arches. “At the library.”

“Perhaps,” he murmurs. “It might be nothing.”

“It’s more than I’ve figured--” She stops, tipping her head to look around him. “Is that… a crossbow strapped to your back?”

“It is.”

“Why?”

He blinks as if her question is an odd one. “Well, the excuse I gave is that I wanted to go turkey hunting, but…” He sighs. “I thought you might need a sniper and--”

“A sniper,” she repeats, her eyebrows arching. “You think I’ll want a sniper to off Henry’s foster parents?” She blinks and finds herself considering it. “I really just wanted to run them out of town.”

Robin laughs a little and shakes his head, pulling crossbow from his back and setting it down as he sits done on the stone bench beside her. “This evil thing really isn’t natural for you, is it?” Her eyes roll as he drops a bag of his arm and pulls out a stack of books. “I couldn’t find much in the way of folklore or resources or anything like that and then, I stumbled across these.” Regina looks down as he sets the books in her lap and an uneasy feeling settles in her as she reads the titles, all of which are similar and all including the words

“Have you heard of them?” Robin asks as she flips the last one to the top of the stack.

“No…”

“I didn’t do a thorough reading, but the boys are orphans who form a tribe in Neverland and--”

“Henry,” she breathes out.

“Yeah,” he says with a nod as his hand comes up against her back, rubbing soft circles between her shoulder blades. “They… run away from their terrible lives and they…”

“He was supposed to be a lost boy?”

“Perhaps…”

“But…” She shakes her head. “Why? Why would they…”

“From the looks of it,” he begins as her voice trails off. “Most of the boys are just a little older than Henry when they arrive and--” He stops as she opens one of the books to see a young boy wearing a headdress and a lion cloth cutting another boy’s cheek with a spear. “It can get quite brutal, it seems.”

She closes the book and draws in a breath. “But what would they get out of it?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. “I couldn’t quite figure that out.”

“There has to be something, some incentive or--” She stops, suddenly getting up and going to a trunk of things that had once been her mother’s. She shifts around in it until she finds a little vellum book bound with fraying ribbons. She opens it up, glancing quickly at Robin as she thumbs through the pages. “There were a few poems in here about… immortality and…” She stops. “They were oddly dark,” she tells him. “I remember finding it and not sleeping for a week thinking my mother was going scarficice me to the--” Her voice stops as she reaches the page. “Here…” Robin joins her at the trunk and together, they read over a handwritten poem about a shadowy figure who feasted on young hopeful souls, draining them of life in exchange for his own youthfulness. “They haven’t aged,” Regina murmurs as she looks to Robin, her hands suddenly trembling. “Henry said they looked exactly the same in the storybook as they did when he knew them and…” her voice trails off as she takes a shaky breath. “And that’s impossible.”

“But the curse…”

“Only effects Storybrooke. If you or I had been living in Boston or New York or any other place in this realm, we’d be almost thirty years older, and we’d look it, too.”

“So you’re saying…”

“I don’t know what I'm saying,” she sighs. “I just… I just know I need  to see Henry.”

“Well, your timing is perfect. School lets out in an hour.”

Taking a breath, she nods and drops the book back into the trunk. “That’s perfect. That’s just enough time.”

“For what?”

Reaching for an empty vial on a shelf beside her, she looks back to Robin. “To make a protection spell.” She shakes her head. “I won’t let them hurt him. I can’t…”

Shifting toward her, Robin nods, watching her as she opens up a spell book that’s already laid out--the one she used to create the potions to help him remember and get him and Roland safely over the town line. “Tell me what I can do to help,” he murmurs as his hand brushes against the small of her back.

“Okay,” she breathes out, smiling uncomfortably as she nods and hands him a jar. “Hold this…”

_____

They arrive at the elementary school, just as the bell is ringing. Together, they stand in their designated spot by the fence and wait for Roland Henry to emerge from the crowd. She’s a little anxious as she stands there, shifting on her feet as she watches the kids run in different directions--and she flinches when her cell phone starts to buzz from its place in her pocket. With a sigh, she reaches for it, accepting the call without checking the caller ID. She groans a little at the sound of her secretary’s voice and she barely listens to what she has to stay, instead focusing her attention on the school’s doors.

The crowd starts to thin and sees Roland step out--and her stomach tightens to find that he’s alone, but she’s quick to remind herself that they’re coming from opposite sides of the school and the times she’s picked them up together, she’s usually had to wait for one for whatever reasons.

“And you got sort of an odd… letter.”

“What?”

“You got a letter in the mail, but there’s not a stamp or an address, it just has your name on the front.”

Her stomach drops and her eyes fall away from the school. “Open it.”

“You… want me to open your mail,” her secretary repeats, her voice uneasy.

“Isn’t that what I asked.”

“Y-yes, of course,” she murmurs as Regina holds her breath, listening as Roland calls out to Robin. “It… just says… whoever sent this keeps missing you at home, but you shouldn’t worry because they’ve taken care of everything.”

Her stomach drops and her lungs deflate as she turns to watch Robin lift Roland off the ground. “That’s all?”

“Yes, it’s… kind of rude…”

Regina nods as her jaw tightens and she murmurs a disinterested thank you as she turns her attention back to thinned out crowd of students. “Where’s Henry?”

“I don’t know,” Roland says. “I thought he was out here already.” He shrugs and looks between them. “Maybe he forgot his lunch box or something. I did that once and I have to all the way back to my classroom and all the back to the front of the school.”

“Maybe…” Regina nods, her eyes fixed on the doors. “Yeah…”

“His class had a weird sub today, too.”

“What?” She breathes out, turning to look at Robin. “Ms. Blanchard wasn’t there?”

Roland shakes his head and her eyes slide to Robin. “Everyone was talking about how mean the sub was and they were glad not to be in the third grade today,” Roland explains. “They even had to eat lunch in the classroom because they got in trouble, so I didn’t get to ask Henry about about it.” Regina’s breath catches in her throat and a wave of nausea hits her. “Ms. Blanchard’s class never gets in trouble…”

She’s barely aware of what comes next, and the next thing she knows she’s standing in the school’s main office. Her hands tremble and her eyes sting with tears as she explains to the school’s secretary that her son never came out of the building. Robin’s arm stretches around her as Henry’s paged once and then twice, and the secretary assures her that Henry was accounted for on each hour’s attendance report. When Henry doesn’t come to the office, she pages him for a third time and suggests they all walk down to Ms. Blanchard’s classroom, suggesting that sub might still be there. Regina nods and follows her, though she knows it won’t do much good--and when they reach the room, they find it empty.

“Can I have the name of today’s sub?” Robin asks as she stares into the classroom.

“Um… Mrs. Tremaine,” the secretary says as tears spill down Regina’s cheeks and her entire body goes numb.

Robin leads her back to the office and when they get there, John is there to retrieve Roland. Regina watches as he hoists the boy onto his hip and claps Robin on the back, murmuring something reassuring that she doesn’t quite hear. Robin crouches down in front of her, rubbing his hands over her knees as he tells her again and again that Henry is going to be alright, that he’ll back with them before they know it, and that Graham is on his way. She nods in acknowledgement, wishing more than anything she could believe him, wishing she could take comfort in words and in his faith, and wishing more than anything that it wasn’t already too late.

[writing--ramblings]

Protector pt. 4

Characters: Derek x Reader, Isaac, Chris, Gerard

Warnings: Mention of suicide, Drug use (marijuana) 

A/N: This started as a filler and it kinda blossomed. Also, for some reason I forgot about season 5 lol. So let’s just pretend that nothing changed with Duke and Gerard. Please be advised there’s a huge amount of drug use but remember, I age up to about 21/22. Thank you all for even glimpsing at my story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You rolled and stretched across the unfamiliar bed, reaching for the familiar form you usually felt. You kept reaching and felt nothing, then you remembered. You were mad at him.

“Morning Sunshine.” An unfamiliar voice echoed through the room, you opened your eyes to see a lanky boy with curly blond hair leaning over you with a shit eating grin on his face.

“What the fu–” you shot up and hit him with a pillow before scrambling to the headboard of the motel bed.

The boy had the audacity to laugh as he caught it with ease. After a second look at the boy you noticed that it was Isaac. Isaac who had eight deep claw marks and bullet wound and was writhing in pain less than 24 hours ago. Unless you were dreaming. A look around the hotel room suggested otherwise, with the bloodied sheets and the makeshift IV still on the nightstand being the most obvious evidence. How was he up and walking?

“Isaac!” The familiar boom of Derek’s voice sounded. “This is why you were a shitty beta” he said, glaring at the boy after walking to the room from outside. Beta? Derek definitely wasn’t a frat bro. What could he have meant?

“You said she needed to wake up.” Isaac defended himself.

“I said I would wake her up” Derek said, making his way over to you. “Stay away from her, dumbass”

You snorted to hold in your laughter. Even though you were mad at him, it was nice to see Derek letting loose around someone other than you. But why should he stay away from you. The sound made Derek’s head turn in your direction, you looked away.

“Anyway, it’s your turn to shower, dollface” Isaac said with a daring wink. Derek growled at the action and you walked to the restroom.

“Oh I-” you stopped and turned around.

“Got it.” Derek was already there with a towel and your clothes folded. You took it with a small smile. He didn’t give one back, instead his eyes bore into yours.

You looked into his eyes and realised that you weren’t truly mad at him. You were hurt, afraid, and all around tired of being kept in the dark. You brushed your fingers against his lightly and turned back, entering the restroom letting Derek close the door behind you. You turned on the shower and leaned against the door. You faintly heard Derek speaking and pressed your ear to the door to hear what they were saying.

“-Am I supposed to explain that?” Derek’s angry voice shot through the room.

“She seriously doesn’t know?” You heard what you thought to be Isaac say in an amused tone.

“No. And I’d like to keep it that way for a little while longer. You’re supposed to be injured” Derek said with a grunt.

“Calm down, I am…See.” he must have shown his wounds.

“Not nearly as bad as you should be.” Derek said in frustration. “Clean this up.” Was the last you heard before you heard the door slam. “And I don’t think I need to tell you what I’ll do to you if you so much as talk to her” Derek said before the door slammed again. —– The car ride was awkward to say the least. You sat next to Derek with a dumbfounded look on your face halfway through Denver. Chris was driving once again, trying to ignore the two younger men’s animosity. Well, Derek’s outright glare at Isaac as he went along as if he hadn’t gotten a bullet lodged out of him recently. What a weirdo.

“That woman’s going to think you murdered me” you were talking to Chris. He laughed at your statement because it was true. You’d left the bloodied sheets folded into a corner in the room.

“It’s a good thing I used a fake name.” He let out one more laugh.

“And burnt off your fingertips” Isaac said nonchalantly. What?!

“Enough! Isaac.” The bellow didn’t come from Derek, who looked ready to lunge at the boy. But, it came from Chris. “He is your sire. Respect his wishes” Chris said to the boy, his voice lowered to it’s normal octave. Isaac grunted and looked out the window.

“Are we’re just gonna pretend that I didn’t hear that?” You asked incredulously.

“If we can help it” Chris muttered.

“We can’t”

“Some of our business isn’t exactly legal” Derek spoke up next to you. You rose an eyebrow.

“What the hell?” You asked, none of the men spoke up “Are you part of the mafia?” They all laughed as if it was the funniest joke they’d heard in years.

“Yup. I’m a Gambino” Derek’s eyes danced with amusement.

“Haha.” You said dryly.

Isaac was still laughing and Chris had composed himself. You were getting tired if half truths and skirting around the issue. Derek could tell because throughout the entire morning he’d failed to kiss you on the lips, only the cheek and head. He was getting frustrated and you could tell. He was one for tiny displays of PDA. Like shoulder kisses, quick lip bites and constant touching when he was near, even now, as you were mad at him he kept his leg tightly pressed against yours in the backseat of the ‘inconspicuous’ black SUV.

So yeah, you could say Derek was tense again. The mood had shifted exponentially and the two in the front could tell because Chris decided to blast the college rock station and Isaac just shifted to looking out the window. Who was Derek Hale, who were any of these people? You’d spent almost three years with him and you accepted that he was keeping things from you. Maybe it was because in every television show and book you read when one of the parties in a relationship was hiding something it was something over the top amazing. Like being a spy - you had this silly thought that he was going off and beating up French and Swiss bad guys trying to infiltrate ​the countries security. At one point your thought of Derek being a mafioso came to life when you were out to dinner one night at an Italian place and a man began screaming at him in Italian and yelled back, fluently. That night ended in Derek knocking the guy out and some amazing sex before you both ate your to go cannolis.

You smiled at the fond memory and gripped Derek’s thigh lightly. The touch brought Derek’s eyes to your hand, as he was staring at you previously. He rested his hand atop yours and held tight. Hell, he may not be something as outrageous as a spy or a mafioso but, he was yours. And whatever trouble he was in would become yours. He wasn’t off the hook though. If you were gonna fight this… Duecalion fellow you were going to need to know why. Which brought back all your questions, you were about to ask about Duecalion when Isaac spoke up.

“Hey, we’re in Colorado, right?” Isaac turned to face the backseat​ and both you and Derek nodded.

“Why?” Chris asked beside him.

“Can we get high?” Isaac questioned. It wasn’t a 'can we pull over to smoke’ kind of question, it was a 'are we able to’ kind of question. You rose an eyebrow and tilted your head. You were confused at the question but also intrigued. Was it against the rules in their 'World?’ if so, they’re in for a rude awakening.

“Derek and I get high all the time” you told them seriously. This caused Chris to choke on air and and Isaac to form a lopsided grin.

“Oh really?” He directed his question to Derek.

“Well, not all the time but, in the past we have.” You told them both. Derek just grunted out a yeah.

“And it worke-” Isaac caught himself “I mean you got high?!” Isaac asked well, accused.

“Yes, Isaac. Now shut up.” Derek said.

“Let’s get high!” Isaac bounced in his seat he was not a good listener. You mused.

“It is legal here…” The older men looked at you, shocked. “Watch the road!” You yelled at Chris.

“I can drive with my hands tied behind my back and blindfolded” he said seriously, but turned to face the road either way. At this point, you believed him.

You didn’t go against the idea. You wanted Derek to stop killing Isaac with his eyes repeatedly. If looks could kill, right? Plus, you needed to get your mind off of this without a killer hangover, like the one the shower washed away earlier. Chris pulled into a dispensary and turned to face you, you started pulling out cash to hand to him.

“Yeah right.” Isaac said when you tried to hand him the money. Chris just looked at Derek amused.

“Hey, she likes to pay her way. I’d take it if I were you. She bites” Derek said with a shake of his head. Chris took it after a beat.

“What do you want?” He asked like he was going grocery shopping.

“Blue dream, Grandaddy OG Kush and…” You bit your lip “cheese” you finished. The boys just looked at you as Derek looked kind of…Proud? “If they don’t have that just tell them to make a salad bowl.” You nodded firmly.

“Maybe you should come in with me?” Chris said, a little confused.

“You’re a big boy, Chris. I have faith in you.” You smiled and shooed him. Derek looked at Isaac pointedly.

“I’ll go!” He jumped at the chance to have his first marijuana dispensary experience.

Once the younger and older men were gone Derek spoke up.

“I’m ​sorry. You deserve to know everything. I’m literally dragging you back and forth across the country and you deserve to be in a penthouse with your feet kicked up and a martini in your hand. Or a joint, whatever. You shouldn’t be out here, it’s too dangerous and I’m making you do this for me. Argent told me that you were ready to stab someone last night and I can’t let you do that. I can’t let you get hurt, but I’m afraid you’ll leave if you find out! And if you leave me then I literally have nothing and I can’t take that, I don’t know who I am without you-” Derek’s words were running together at the end of his rant so you stopped him with your lips pressing against his.

“Shut up” you told him as you leant back. “What did I tell you?” You asked him. “There’s gonna have to be a lot more than this to get you away from me. Of course I’d stab someone for you, I eat glass if it meant you’d be okay.” He huffed with a smile at the revelation. “I deal with your mood swings. This is nothing” he rolled his eyes at that. “Seriously though, I want to know. You can’t keep me in the dark for much longer. I can tell I’m about to find out. And I’d rather it be from you” you said honestly. That’s why you haven’t done the obvious thing and outright asked Isaac. “Now go back to being mean, tough Derek before they come back” you said as you placed your hands on both sides of his face and pushed his hair back.

“You’re perfect.” He whispered, more to himself even though he was watching you.

Isaac and Chris came back looking triumphant. They dropped the bags in your lap and you took a look inside, it had all been labeled accordingly. They had blunt wraps, the weed and had even gotten some munchies and poweraid. They were really trying to experience the stoner paradise with this, huh? You thought.

“You know the markup on this food is outrageous,right?” You looked at the two.

“We didn’t want to waste any time getting snacks.” Chris said giddily. You covered your mouth to hold your laughter. “It’s been a long time, okay?” He said with an eye roll which made Derek and Isaac begin to laugh. “I hate you guys” he said with an unmanly pout and hopped in the passenger seat.

Apparently it was time to rotate because they knew exactly what to do, Derek took the Drivers seat but not before placing the armrest down and kissing you heatedly. Isaac groaned and took the seat next to you, separated by the divider. You giggled from your seat and opened the bags up.

Where are we going?“ You asked as you took the weed out and began grinding it up, Isaac watched curiously, Derek watched Isaac and Chris was just enjoying his rock.

"To my bunker, gotta pick some stuff up and, if we’re gonna do this,we have to be safe.” The final man spoke.You rolled your eyes, yeah this is what’s gonna affect our safety.

You opened the package of blunts, broke one open and began dumped the tobacco in the empty bag. Isaac was still watching you and Derek looked up occasionally to watch from the rearview mirror, you winked at him when you caught his eye. You took the ground up weed and put it in the now empty blunt wraps and began rolling, once it was done you made sure to catch Derek’s eyes in the mirror and lick the blunt painfully slow, Isaac almost gasped before ruining your moment by saying.

“Derek… Your girlfriend is so hot” he gave you a small smile and Derek turned around and punched his arm, so quickly you almost missed it. Isaac definitely felt it because he growled and whined. “Fuck!” He held the arm where Derek hit, his eyes looked yellow for a fleeting moment. Must of been his hair in his eyes.

“I know, I see her everyday. She's​ beautiful” He said, a satisfied smile on his lips. You could feel yourself blushing.

“Whatever.” He pouted reminding you of a golden retriever, “Do it again!” He told you, Derek cleared his throat. “What? Do you know how to do it?” He asked holding up the blunt to the two older men in the front. They conceded and you repeated the process three more times. —- By the time you were finished with rolling you were in front of what Chris called a bunker. I guess that’s what it was, truthfully it was three storage containers linked together in an old junk yard. With two bedrooms, a kitchenette a living room and a bathroom. As you entered you thought back to your questions, but Isaac was so excited to smoke that you gave him his blunt just to calm him down. You distributed the other two and Isaac stayed looking confused.

“If you’re anything like Derek, your tolerance is insanely high” you told him. On the occasion that you did smoke, Derek usually smoked his entire blunt and some of yours.

“I..Have no idea how to do this.” Isaac spoke up, Derek snorted, having already lit his, Chris had gone to collecting the items he needed. Which probably meant guns ammo and whatever else he kept in his weird bag.

You smiled and took it from him, lighting it and inhaling deeply before blowing out an O-ring. Isaac looked like a guppy and took his blunt gingerly. He followed your instructions and got the hang of it pretty quickly, coughing after each hit. You reassured him that it’d get better soon.

“You started without me?” Chris asked when he came back, two bags doing over his shoulders.

“Gotta move quicker than that, old man.” Derek said with a chuckle. He just gave Derek a disapproving look before lighting his. You finally had the chance to light yours and plopped down on the uncomfortable couch provided in the bunker.

About thirty minutes later you were laying on the couch on your back, giggling with the guys. Derek sat next next to you with your head in his lap, Isaac was vegging out on the floor and when Chris said he bought munchies for everyone… He really meant himself because you all had one bag of chips between you, Derek and Isaac whilst Chris had hot Cheetos, sour patch kids, Skittles and Reese’s all to himself. He literally smacked your hand as you reached for the Sour Patch Kids, Derek growled and snatched the sour candy from him, dumping the candy in your mouth with a mischievous gleam in his eye. Your eyes widened as he kept going after your mouth was full. You shot up and chewed the candy in your mouth, throwing the few that fell on your lap at him.

“Derek!” You squealed with a laugh scrunched up your face.

“You wanted it.” He muttered, a smile playing at the edge of his lips. He plopped the few that you threw at him in his mouth.

“This is why I kept it to myself.” Chris spoke up, shoveling hand full of Skittles in his mouth.

“No, you’re being just greedy, Argent” Derek said with a side eyed glace towards Chris. Derek knocked the sour patch kids against Isaac’s head, offering the boy the candy. Isaac took it slowly.

“I don’t get to eat a lot of junk food!” Chris said with squinted eyes. “We can’t all have inhuman metabolism” he grunted quietly, sparking up again. Derek snorted out laughter.

The comment got your mind reeling, Derek could tell because he groaned and pulled you on his lap.

“Stop thinking so much, we’re supposed to be relaxing” he whispered after dipping his lips to your ear.

“I can’t! Why does Chris have a bunker? Why do you all talk in such cryptic sentences? Why are we not freaking out right now?” You asked lowly at first, so only Derek could hear but the questions quickly because everyone for the room.

“Because I’m a werewolf.” Derek said seriously. That apparently woke Isaac up because his head whipped around to you both. Chris dropped his bag and  did the same. You smiled and laughed at the ridiculous jpke, pushing Derek’s chest.

“You would have convinced me if they existed” you said once you stopped laughing. It was true, it was very convincing. “I love you” you said, the amusement still in your demeanor.

He gave you a small smile and kissed your shoulder “I love you back.” His arms snaked his way around your waist and he leaned his head on your shoulder.

—

You’d spent almost an of trying to get Derek to show off his Dance moves and him fiercely declining in front of his friends. Seriously, he loved to dance when you were alone, so the fact that he got such a red face when you mentioned it made you pick on him even more. You smiled down at the sleeping Derek. He needed to, knowing him he didn’t sleep last night, well earlier today. So you let him suck up his little few hours of sleep. You were in the middle of running your hands through his short black hair when Isaac came back into the room from the bathroom.

“The old men just can’t handle it, huh?” He laughed and say in the recliner that Chris once sat in. He’d gone to the bedroom on the far end of the bunker. You snorted.

“Says the one who was counting invisible stars twenty minutes ago” the puppy dog - you found yourself calling​ him in your head - began blushing profusely. “Why do you and Derek butt heads so much?” You nodded towards the boy, changing the subject while you could get some answers.

“We don’t, really. That’s just Derek” he shrugged. It was strange, because you knew Derek was nothing but surly to most people but, his dynamic with Isaac and Chris were very opposite. With Chris it was like he respected everything he said and the way they spoke to each other was as if they were best friends. With Isaac it was like he was scolding his younger brother constantly.

“It’s just… He acts like you piss him off with everything you do” you said with a light laugh.

“Everything pisses Derek off.” He said with a laugh, you smiled at that. It was kind of true. “He saved my life. And I don’t mean the way they did last night.” You’d almost forgotten about that. You wanted to ask him how his wounds were but you decided against it, in fear of losing the story. “My father didn’t like me very much and Derek showed me what a real family could be. He introduced me to Scott and he kept me from ending up at the bottom of the ocean. He made me one of them and I’m thankful” He looked at Derek with an intense stare. “He may be a douche, but he protects those he cares about”

“I resent the whole douche thing”  Derek stated, his eyes still closed. You jumped and stopped your motion.

“Why do you do that?” You accused your boyfriend. He shrugged and grabbed your hand that rested in his hair and began moving it again. You snorted and gave in to his wishes after he let go. Big baby.

“Love you too, Isaac” Derek said to the boys insinuated revelation. You wanted to cry from happiness, even though the words were fleeting both you and Isaac were shocked. Derek never showed emotion towards anything but puppies and you. It was amazing to hear the words come out of his mouth.

“Gross dude, your girlfriend’s right there.” Isaac responded, holding back his grin. The boy hadn’t known how to respond and that was clear but, he was happy to hear the words, that much was obvious.

Derek sat up immediate and Isaac’s head snapped towards the door. Both of them called for Argent and he ran to the room, Gun pointed forward. You didn’t know what was happening, what alerted them to the danger? Was there some unseen alarm?

“Speaking of shitty father’s” Isaac muttered and stood, all three men were now surrounding you with their backs turned towards you.

“Umm..?” You looked around. Argent took the throwing knives from his pocket and handed them to Derek who in turn handed them to you. You took them gingerly and tried to match their stances.

Argent stood his gun still in hand and pointed towards the door. Derek stood to his left, directly in front of you, standing in an animalistic hunch. Isaac stood on the end in a stance similar to Derek, his body still looked human though.

Moments later the door opened and Katrina sauntered in with an older man a much older man. “Lotta sugar daddies” you muttered. Isaac snorted out a laugh and Derek shook with silent laughter. Chris completely ignored you, the older man was conditioned to tune everything out.

“What are you doing here Gerard?” Chris spoke loud and firm.

“Now, now Christoph is that any way to greet your father?” The man said as he got closer, you noticed that he had a black and white hankerchief in hand and he coughed into it. It dawned on you that the hankerchief wasn’t black and white, he was coughing up black fluid. Mountain ash. How was he walking around, didn’t this stuff kill people?

“You lost that right when you betrayed our code.” Argent told his father.

“And what are you doing?” Katrina spoke up

“We don’t kill those who haven’t killed innocents” Chris argued back.

“Lower your gun” Gerard told his son, his nose began leaking mountain ash and he wiped his nose. “We just want these two lone wolves” he finished.

“Leave and you survive.” Derek spoke up.

“Cute, and who’s gonna kill me?” Katrina began walking forward, “your little oblivious play thing?” You peered around Derek and glared at her.

“Bitch.” You muttered.

“What are you whispering over there? My hearing’s not as good as theirs” she nodded towards Derek and Isaac.

“Bitch” you enunciated every syllable.

“Fiesty little thing you got there, Derek” Gerard said in a skincrawling tone. As he said that a light fog began intruding the vents located on the floor. They were stalling.

“Derek.” You pointed at the vents and he pushed you back behind him.

He cracked his neck quickly and you could see his facial hair grow thicker and his ears took a sharper point. The most alarming thing was his roar. He had a literal room shaking, ear splitting roar. That was him the other night? You backed up, alarmed and he turned with a sympathetic look in his eyes that were now glowing blue. Did he have fangs? You chanced a look at the two other men and Isaac had a very similar appearance. Chris just stood strong now with two guns pointed. You wanted to pass out