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#the whole first chapter of this series is finished
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What’s my next album going to be based on? Divorce babe DIVORCE
A Gwen stacy x reader fic where they’re both spider people and they get sent on a mission by miguel but reader gets a tad bit hurt while on said mission and gwen tots freaks out
Xoxo, gossipgirl
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- water color -
Pairings - Gwen Stacy x fem! Spider hero! Reader
An - im working on an Abby fic rn and finishing the final chapter to my AO3 series but the Abby fic is taking longer than expected im sorry, this is also sorta rushed I just really wanted to get something out for y’all
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to be fair this wasn’t your fault.
“What did I tell you!” Miguel’s harsh voice echoed through the empty room. He was like a toddler with the way he reacted. You messed up once and it’s like your the anti christ with Armageddon coming a mile away.
Blood trailed down your face. A broken nose busted lip and bruising circles around your eyes from one failed fight. “Whatever you act like your the perfect hero” you finally snapped shouting pack at him.
“I don’t make foolish mistakes!”
“I got punched and thrown against a wall by a giant fucking lizard!”
“You were supposed to stay in the background while Jessica captured the anomaly! You could of caused a major break in the universe!” If he raised his voice over yours maybe he would win the argument. This wasn’t even supposed to be an argument in your eyes you did nothing wrong.
Tired of the whole ordeal you walked away ignoring as Miguel shouted for you to come back. If you had to hear this grown man complain about you getting hurt one more time you just might scream.
Taking a seat at the food court you annoyingly waited for your burger. A show tune whistle made you turn your head.
“You Look Well” hobbie sarcastically took a seat beside you. Rolling your eyes you took another sip of your drink.
“If your gonna lecture me, Miguel is already ten steps ahead of you”
He just shook his head with a smile, pulling his guitar from his back to in-front hobbie began to tune it. “I think ill leave that to our little friend” his reference to Gwen didn’t go unnoticed. Any chance he got to bring up the relationship he would. Rolling your neck trying to relieve some tension a pair of soft hands covered your eyes.
Pulling them down Gwen wrapped her arms around your neck. She leaned over kissing your cheek. “Hey how wa— oh my god” her blunt tone made you silently groan. Turning around Gwen grabbed your face in her hands.
“Hey Blondie” You mumbled as she critcally scared your face. “It’s not as Bad as it Looks”
“Your nose is broken”
“Again it’s not that bad”
She grabbed your hand and yanked you from the place where sat. She silently dragged you down multiple halls until you reached the med bay. Almost throwing you, you landed on a cot.
It was cute how she was able to man Handel you. Trying to be sarcastic you spoke “Careful I’m fragile right no—“
“Not a Word”
Her strick tone Sent chills down your back. Sitting straight up Gwen grabbed a first aid kit. Taking a seat beside you she began to softly clean the cut on your lip.
The antibiotics stung against the wound making you pull back in pain. “Sorry” Gwen sighed, grabbing your chin she turned to your face towards her again.
She would never intentionally try to hurt you, it was obvious with how much care she was taking in even the shallow wounds.
“All this for me.. I’m flattered” you giggled.
“Whatever” she smiled. Placing a bowl of soup on the table she sat down on the couch beside you. Hobbie had gone out for the night leaving you and Gwen alone at his place.
Leaning onto her shoulder she was quick to wrap a free arm around you while she picked a movie. Playing with the hem of Gwen’s sleep shirt the thought of how worked up she had gotten over you made your heart soar.
With a bandage on your nose and stitches on your lip you felt your face begin to heal. After a minute you leaned up to kiss the corner of her lips. “Thank you~ I don’t know how I’d live without you”
She tried to act Un phased but her red cheeks lied. “I don’t know either” she joked. Hitting her arm in a small fit of playful rage gwen softly laughed, turning her attention down to you. Kissing your forehead she relaxed back on the furniture with you in arms. You figured you should get comfortable as there was no way in hell she was about to let you go on another assignment any time soon.
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4rtificialfolio · 1 day
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It’s Complicated, My Darling - Chapter 1
Chpt. 1: “Cat got your tongue, doll?”
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“Ada is an operative in the 1940s from Brighton in England, sent over to New York City to work with the Americans, uncovering secrets and spying on potential suspects. She meets a handsome young man, Nick Folio, on the train into the city; little does she know how that moment would change the trajectory of her life”
Parings: Nick folio X OFC (Ada Chapman)
Word count: 1.6K
Chapter Warnings: brief mention of war, slightly suggestive, explicit language, fluff
Series master list
(see masterlist for overall warnings, chapter begins below the cut)
Ada
May 20th 1941
New York City, USA
7:00 am
Dear Diary,
Yesterday is still a haze and I barely slept all night, tossing and turning thinking about him. I still can’t believe my luck or lack thereof. Things are always too good to be true and yesterday proved that. God damn you, Nick. It had to be you didn’t it? Who am I kidding, we met once and he’s cute but that’s it. I don’t know him, he was just an attractive man on the train who just so happens to be the man I’m being told to track. It can’t be so different from any other mission, can it? I can do this, I’m bloody brilliant at this job and this mission will be a piece of cake, I hope.
In other news, Dad sent another letter. He thinks they might have to evacuate soon, after the raid on the Portsmouth docs the whole town is on edge but hopefully, it won’t come to that. Denis is already missing and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Dad and Peggy too. I can’t think about that, I shouldn’t.
Anyway, I’ll be back tomorrow. 
I’m sure I’ll have a more interesting update after I’ve started my undercover work today,
Ada
-
The Precinct, 9:30 am
My train was delayed today, my first day on the cover job and I’m already late. Great first impression Ada! 
“Miss Chapman, I presume?” a middle-aged man, with a not-so-flattering navy blue suit and a grey homburg hat that he definitely should’ve thrown away in the 30s, calls my name from across the ground floor.
“A little late but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt considering It’s your first day”. By the affirmative tone of his low, grumbling voice, I assume he’s the captain; Michael Brewer. I wonder if he knows he’s missing a button on his shirt?
“Yes sir, nice to meet you. Apologies for my Tardiness” 
“Please follow me, I’ll take you to your desk so you can settle in. We run a tight ship here Chapman and I expect the very best from my employees, no less. let's hope you can keep up” I internally snicker at the tight ship remark. If it truly was a tight ship, I wouldn’t be here. If not for the fact I’m here undercover, I wouldn’t bat an eyelid at that sentence; but something about it unsettles me. Alarm bells ring in my head. Michael will be on my watch list.
The tour is pretty mundane, I’ve only been hired as the secretary for my department so there’s no need for me to see the entirety of the precinct however, one room, in particular, catches my eye. The captain’s office, I’ll have to make a mental note of its whereabouts. Michael has been rambling on about the pride and joy of the precinct, and how he’s “built a family he can trust”; I refrain from laughing, being late on my first day is one thing but being fired for rudeness on the first day? I think I’ll pass. Before I know it, We’ve already reached my department floor. It’s nothing too extravagant but it’s certainly the biggest. The criminal investigation department has the most employees in the entire precinct, from the constable to the detective team, the sergeant, translators, the medical examiners and then there’s me, the secretary. I know Nick is a detective and, in fact, I’m pretty sure he’s the lead detective. Speaking of him, I wonder if he’s in today?
Before I can allow myself to get carried away with my wondering thoughts, Michael finally finishes his boastful rant and shows me to my desk.
“Right chapman, this is your desk. You’ll be doing the majority of your administrative work here but it’s important to store any important and private documents in the file room and I expect them to be logged at the end of each shift. Understood?” Having to lock them away might be a slight problem, I need solid evidence for this case but having access to the file room could be beneficial.
“Yes sir”
“I’ll leave you to settle in and meet your colleagues, we’re happy to have you, Chapman”
“Well look who it is!” an oh-so-familiar voice averts my attention, making me turn away from my desk.
“Nick? Uh I mean Mr Folio” Addressing another boss of mine by his first name, today is just tip-top.
“What’s with the formalities Doll? Please everyone calls me Nick around here, Mr Folio sounds way too formal for my liking”. My breath hitches and I chew on my bottom lip as he calls me ‘doll’. Doll, I like the sound of that. He looks extra sexy today. Sure he looked handsome in a black tank top, but now? He’s wearing a white spear point collard dress shirt paired with navy blue suit trousers with white stripes, a brown, white dotted tie and brown leather oxfords. I can’t help but stare, the top two buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbow, showing off his tanned, veiny arms. Heat flushes across my body down to my core, he’s hot. Real hot and I’m flustered. 
“Cat got your tongue, doll?” He smirks. There’s that damned nickname again.
Everything about him entices me and I know these feelings are wrong, but I just can’t help myself. I’m supposed to be working against him, spying on him and digging for info but he’s just so sweet to look at.
“Sorry just a little tired, what did you say?”
“I said I was about to go on lunch and you owe me a lunch date, care to join?” A date? I’m sure it’s just a figure of speech.
“Sure! You’ll have to pick where we go, I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the city yet” Nick quickly grabs his suit jacket and grey fedora from his desk at the back of the room and gently puts his hand on the small of my back to lead me out of the precinct. A tingle surges up my spine at the light contact, causing a slight shiver.
Nick takes me to a cute little diner about a block away. There’s a yellow and red sign that reads “Fred’s cafe & diner” and a couple of cars parked out front including a new, mint green chevrolet fleetline. Dad told me about these new cars in one of his letters, he thinks they’re an eyesore but I quite like them. 
We settle into a small booth in the corner, right by the window that overlooks the narrow street next to the diner. I’m conflicted, I’m sat across from one of the most, if not the most, handsome men I’ve ever met. His eyes are so dreamy; he’s practically eye-fucking me from across the table, looking down ever so slightly at my lips, as I make small talk about the fleetline out front, and my stomach turns to goo. I begin to wonder what what his lips taste like, how he’d look pushing me up against the wall; but it’s a fleeting thought. Stay on track Ada. A waitress takes our orders and there’s a tense silence among us.
“So doll, how are you enjoying the city so far?” I wish he’d stop calling that.
“It’s not too bad, I really miss the beach and my family but I love the livelihood here. It's a nice change” Home, I miss home. All I want is to hug Peggy and Dad but until the war is over, this is home in the meantime.
“Damn I don’t know why you’d pass up the seaside to live here of all places, but I’m glad you did” Leaning forward on his arms, he smirks.
“Really?”
“Sure, I get to look at your pretty face every day. Sounds like a nice perk to me” He winks. My cheeks turn a subtle shade of pink whilst I find myself attempting to stop a cheesy grin from spreading across my face.
“How about you? How does life here compare to Maryland?”
“Hmm It’s good, I love the job but I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the war. I used to be a detective back in Maryland but I was relocated here to help with the war effort” Sometimes I forget about the war; moments like these make me feel normal and happy as if there’s not a single care in the world. But then I read the paper and I’m brought back to reality.
“Watch’ya thinking in that pretty little head of yours?” Concern starts to grow on his face.
“I was just thinking of home and the war, you know? I miss my family and life before it all started” My heart sinks thinking about it all.
“Oh doll, we don’t know each other too well yet and I know I can’t compare to your real home, but I promise I’ll do my best to make you a home away from home. Can’t stand to see a pretty face frown.” Is this the right guy? I mean, really? This is the so-called dangerous man who’s supposed to be stealing money from the precinct? I’ve never met such a gentle, caring soul; and not to point out the obvious but, fuck he’s handsome, I wouldn’t mind feeling his hands on my hips sometime. No, no I can’t think like that. I have a job to do, I mustn’t lose my focus. My thoughts are quickly averted as Nick says my name from across the table, signalling our lunch break is almost over. Come on Ada, snap out of it. 
“Thank you, Nick. I’m sure I’ll feel right at home with you”
With you? Shit.
 I am royally fucked.
-
AN: Sorry this took so long! I was in a really long writing slump but i'm hoping to get a chapter out every two weeks (no promises). I'm really looking forward to you guys seeing what happens between Nick and ADA. Ada has very quickly become my favourite character I've ever written. Please let me know your thoughts! Again, please let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list for this series :)
reminder my inbox is always open if you’d rather send your thoughts about this series or any of the omens members anonymously (no fic requests).
Tag List: @iknownothingpeople , @dsireland86 , @vinyardmauro , @thatchickwiththecamera , @blackveilomens
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kyberblade · 1 day
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Back To You - (Din x Reader) Epilogue/Prologue for Close To Home
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A/N: IT IS HEREEEEEEE!!! So sorry it took so long. So much happens. I was going to divide this and then I thought, “Hmmmmm…. No.” As one does. Another note at the end to avoid spoilers. Seriously. Don’t read it until you’ve read the whole thing. You’ve been warned. I have spoken. This is the way. Yada yada yada. …..You just jumped forward and came back didn’t you? 🙄 Also, once again, there is some lore in this that @writerlyhabits​ wrote in a fantastic short, and I loved it so much, I asked if I could use it.
There are parts of this you won’t understand if you didn’t read the Dincember 2022 Drabble Carry You With Me, but they are very small mentions, you will be fine as a whole if you don’t want to read it. But why wouldn’t you? 🥺
(This takes place two years after the other one, and goes to the beginning-ish of episode 1/5 of TBoBF, Return of the Mandalorian.)
I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.
Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, (Nobody touch me he’s still here okay?) and Din is once again a warning in and of himself in this one. Helmetless Din. What? Who said that? 😬 Typical show violence. Swearing. Space swearing. Grogu is a menace. Arguing? Mando’a. Show dialogue, so spoilers? (But if you’re here, you know how this works.) Return of past characters. Tears. Shenanigans. Lots of banter. Throwback to chapter one with dialogue repeats but in the best™️ way, and copious amounts of me trying to work in back to you as a normal thing in a sentence bc why not.
Word count: 16,655 (I said what I said.)
As always, thanks to @grippingbeskar for encouraging me, looking over this for me, and being the one to introduce me to Din fanfiction in the first place, getting me hooked. You are fantastic and I always love our chats.
And for @fordo-kixed-rex, you deserve so much more than a shoutout for reading all 75 million iterations of this massive chapter from start to finish, and helping me in between. You’re a real one, friend. This series would not have gotten this far without you.
Also a shoutout to @what-the-heckin-heck, @dontletyourchildrenwatchthis, @lloweryourstandardss, and @littlemisspascal for being a sounding board for me over this whole process. (Also to @deceiver-of-gods for all of your help over all the chapters with the Mando’a. I hope I got it right in this one.)
Previous | Series Masterlist | Next
Xxx
Two years later….
Tatooine was bustling. As always. Vendors with their wares, smells and brilliant sights everywhere you turned. Something new and exciting to pull you in and suck all your credits dry just like the planet's heat stole every drop of moisture…. 
But it was all nothing without the kid. It was dull and drab without Grogu at your side. His soft babbles, the odd ‘Patu’ he’d throw at the next snack he’d like to steal…. 
Dank farrik! Turning away from the hanging frogs at the nearest vendor, you swiped at the most recent batch of tears rising to the surface. Sniffling loudly, you melted into the warm hand that came to rest on your back, eyes fluttering shut.
“It’s okay, mesh’la. I miss him, too.” The modulated voice at your ear carried unspoken sorrow of its own, sadness it’d never dare to even whisper into the universe, lest that make it real. If he kept it hidden, secret…. Like his face, nothing in the galaxy could use it against him. Somehow it made him stronger. And you both resented that and wanted to squeeze the life out of him for it at the same time. 
“It’d be nice if you’d show it once and a while….” You grumbled, turning toward him but keeping your eyes cast down to stare at the sand.
His hand fell to his side slowly. “What?” Head tilting to the side as he peered down at you in question, barely any space left between you, it leaned the other way when you shook your head with a sarcastic grin.
“Nothing. Forget it.” Your eyes lifted up to meet his visor finally, squinting against the glare of the twin suns. “Got everything?”
Din nodded. “Almost. Just need the-”
His words were cut short when the satchel across his chest suddenly dropped to the ground, the strap cut inconspicuously by a passing Rhodian seeming to casually bump into the Mandalorian only moments before.
You turned to try and find the culprit but Din tugged on your upper arm. 
“Forget about him. He’s just the-” Both of you looked down at the ground to find the satchel missing, “-distraction.”
You smirked. “I see.”
As Din’s head began to swivel in search of the thief, you attempted to reach out through the crowd with the Force, searching for the familiar signature of the contents in the satchel.
“How did you not get an alert?”
Now your head was on a swivel. Directly to the Mandalorian. “A what?”
“You know.” He wiggled his fingers like Cara always did when referencing the Force. “Why didn’t you know?”
You rolled your eyes with a sigh, looking back to the crowd. “It doesn’t work that way.” The world weary words you’d said a thousand times felt like a mantra at this point. Then after a moment you added, “I’m not a security system.”
“Well that would be handy,” Din said offhandedly, beginning to walk purposefully in the direction the two of you had come not minutes before.
Stumbling after him, your face scrunched like you’d eaten something sour, you pulled on his upper arm to try and turn him around, but it only stopped him, his head still on a swivel. “Wait, what?!”
Din sighed in frustration. “I don’t know. I’m just looking for the thief. That bag has something impor-”
“Your old armor, I know.” Din’s full attention was on you now, his head tilted slightly in question. “Everything has an energy, that’s a really simplified way of how the Force works. Right now I’m trying to track the signature of your armor.”
“What is it?” He asked hesitantly, his weight shifting to one side.
Smiling softly, you took a step forward, grabbing his hand and pulling him down a side alley toward where you felt the signature grow stronger. “Nothing but goodness, Man- Din. Light and strength.” You stumbled over his name, still not used to using his actual moniker in public.
He chuckled at your fumble, shaking his head in disbelief. “From that dingy old stuff?”
“It’s not the quality of the armor that I’m reading.” You looked at his visor over your shoulder, eyebrow raised. “It’s the quality of the warrior who wore it.” Turning back forward to navigate between the street crowded with lifeforms, one side of your mouth lifted in amusement. “That type of thing leaves an impression.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” he finally grumbled quietly. When you looked back at him once again, your brow arched higher than before, he huffed. “How did you know it was there?”
Smiling softly as you held the gaze of his visor, you turned back to face forward, moving a bit faster. “You’re about as subtle as your new armor.” Din let out a soft, annoyed groan. “I saw you packing it back in Peli’s hangar.”
“I can be subtle,” he groused, slowing his steps slightly.
With your own groan, you turned to face him with a toss of your head for emphasis. “Yes. So subtle, Mandalorian. My big, shiny tin can. Now come.” Grabbing his hand once again with both of yours, you began to walk backwards, pulling him along with you. “We have a thief to catch.”
The alley had quieted down, the masses of beings thinned out so it was basically only you and Din, and maybe a handful of beings milling about, using the cross way as a shortcut to somewhere else. No one was lingering, their faces streaking by as they hurried to move on with their day.
“Hold that thought.” Din pulled you to a stop, planting his feet as he turned his head toward a crate on his left. On top of the box sat his satchel, untouched, his armor still causing it to look awkward and lumpy. “We may have just lucked ou-”
A surge of panic behind you caused you to turn toward the source, a small figure darting out of your line of sight as a familiar small voice muttered, “Oh shi-” before spinning around in Din’s hold, his grip around their forearm holding them tight.
“Okay, you little nerf herder, nice try- Sola?” Din’s voice dropped on the name.
You turned to fully face the pair, eyes going wide on the small girl now a young adult, maybe twelve, possibly thirteen years old now. 
She looked between the two of you, her expression a mirror of your own, as her body deflated in Din’s hold, her weight going slack in his grip while she cried in disbelief, “It’s you?!”
You couldn’t help the highly intelligent thing that tumbled out of you next. “It’s you?!”
Sola sighed a sigh worthy of a Mandalorian before she grumbled, kicking one foot at the sand path of the alleyway. “I knew I recognized that armband.”
Reaching up, you traced over the ribbons on your left bicep with the tips of your fingers on your right hand, eyes darting down to look at it briefly before they pulled back up to level a stern glare on the girl.
Before anything else could be said, heavy footfalls came racing up behind your little gathering. A female stumbled the last few steps, coming to a stop and collapsing, slapping her hands onto her knees before you could see her face, struggling to catch her breath. You opened your mouth to greet the newcomer, but she held up one finger before you could utter a sound. 
Din finally muttered in disbelief, “Cara?”
Your head whipped over toward the figure, eyes wider still. “It’s you?!” A hand came up to rest on your forehead, massaging back and forth as if that would help things sink in and make more sense. Your brows practically knit together in confusion with this new information, one arching up as you stared at the woman. “I’m so confused.”
Standing up, with one last heavy breath, Cara offered the two of you a tired smile. “Following up a lead.”
She held up a hand to stop Din before he could even ask, her eyes closing in mock annoyance. “Long story.” She opened them once again to land directly on you with a wink as Din sighed in exasperation before her attention turned onto Sola, her hand falling to gesture to the adolescent before landing at her side with a graceless slap. “And this little womp rat stole my commlink.”
Din looked down at the girl, giving her arm still in his grip a little shake. “This is Sola.” 
The girl shrunk under the stare of three adults. 
Cara’s gaze flicked up towards his visor, almost accusingly. “Friend of yours?” You nodded, and she sighed, hands going to her hips, weight shifting to one side. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Sola,” you tried calmly, going over to grab Din’s satchel before it was forgotten in the chaos. “Explain, please.”
“Nothing. It was nothing. I just grabbed hers by mistake, that’s all.” She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.
Cara leveled a look on the girl, her tone dry. “Off my belt?”
Sola tried a grin. “Whoops?”
The Marshal lifted the look to Din. 
“Don’t do that to me,” he complained. “I didn’t teach her that.”
“Don’t even pretend to look at me next, Cara,” you held up your hand to stop her before she even tried. “I only taught her good things.”
Sola rolled her eyes and tried to tug out of Din’s hold, but the Mandalorian easily held her in place.
“Have a seat,” you offered sweetly, pulling the crate the bag had been on toward you with the Force, and giving her a nudge to sit. “Talk.”
She stared over at the wall behind you, grinning in disbelief. “It was a dare, okay?” Her eyes pulled up to meet yours, their hard stare melting slightly once they did, revealing something vulnerable, something broken. Her voice softened just slightly, but still held the mock vibrato she started out with, making you huff as she continued. “Some kids dared me to take someone’s bag, and I was just unlucky enough to choose you.”
“And my comlink?” Cara tried.
Sola turned to her with a cheesy grin. “That was just bad luck on your end.”
“I’ll show you bad luck,” Cara grumbled, stepping closer to the teen.
You stepped between them. “Cara.”
“What?” She barked, trying to peer over your shoulder at the girl before looking you in the eyes.
“No.”
“She stole-”
“She’s a kid,” you corrected. “Tell me you didn’t do dumb stuff when you were her age. Hell, you do dumb stuff now.”
“You’re one to talk,” Cara grumbled.
You smirked, arms crossing over your chest as your weight shifted to one leg. “Ah, but I travel with a Mandalorian. What’s your excuse?”
Cara scoffed. “I knew him first, if we’re going that route.”
“I’m right here,” Din said, somewhat offended, reaching out to gently push Sola down by the shoulder without a second glance when she went to stand up.
You kept your voice even, mildly distracted as you spoke somewhat flippantly. “Mandalorians who shot their partner in the leg don’t get to talk right now.”
“I didn’t shoot you!” He protested, voice going up at the end in agitation.
“You shot her?” Cara asked at the same time Din spoke, turning to look at him with raised brows.
“I didn’t shoot her!” Din corrected before Cara could even finish, his visor swiveling back to you. “It was a ricochet.” His head tilted to the right as he stared at you. “On Gideon’s ship. The bolt bounced off the droid when she launched at it, and-”
You waved your hand dismissively, gaze landing on nothing in particular across the street. “Same thing.”
“It is no-”
“Ugh!” Sola threw her head back and groaned, staring at the sky with wide eyes, her voice went up with each following word. “This is torture!” Her head lowered back to look between the three of you, eyes narrowed to slits before they fluttered shut and she heaved another heavy sigh. “Fine. I’ll talk.” She leaned back on her palms on the crate, her face finally relaxing to something more neutral. “Just…. Stop whatever…. This,” she gestured vaguely with one hand while her nose scrunched up slightly in disgust, “is.”
You turned back to face her, nodding for her to go on, but Din interrupted.
“Later.”
You rolled your eyes as he waved his finger at you in admonishment before landing them back on the girl, smiling softly. “Go on, Sola.”
She hesitated before taking a quick breath and letting it all out on an exhale, speaking quickly. “My parents are diplomats from a planet in the Mid Rim.” 
“Woah, woah, woah, slow down, kid!”
Sola glared at you, taking an exaggeratedly deep breath before speaking overly clearly the rest of her explanation. “We’re here to broker peace between the different ruling houses and our world.”
“Hey, if you’re going to have an attitude, we can just leave,” you warned.
“Great!” Sola beamed. “Bye!” She went to rise from the crate but both Din and Cara pushed down on a shoulder on each side respectively, earning a soft oomph! from the teen. 
She sighed resignedly before going on. “But as you can probably guess, that goes as smooth as sand in a hyperdrive.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not allowed to do anything. I have to keep up appearances, and stay inside most of the time now because we have gotten death threats after a deal gone bad recently.”
Din visibly stiffened beside her, Cara, too. A chill ran up your spine as she continued.
As she relaxed further back into the crate, her words seemed almost lazy, lackadaisical. “So I started sneaking out. Nothing major, just needed some fresh air, well, it’s Tatooine, so, air.” Her tone went rigid with her posture, the spark in her fading to a dull ember as her volume faded to a mere murmur. Her index finger traced lines along her knee as her eyes followed the invisible trails it made. “Then I met them.”
“Who?”
Sola met your eyes, almost startled when you asked, like she’d forgotten people were listening. She shrugged one shoulder, her eyes dropping back down to her lap, her tone still soft. “Doesn’t matter. A group of kids. They do petty crimes and stuff, I wasn’t going to do anything, but they said they were going to tell the people who had been sending death threats how I was sneaking in and out at night.” Her hand stilled, then began poking at the ankle of her foot tucked up under her absently, her eyes cast down at the ground. “They had been watching me, I guess. Let them know all our weak points in security. If I didn’t do a job for them, then they’d tell….”
“And one job turned into more….”
She nodded at your comment. Her eyes flickering up to meet yours for only a second before they pulled down again.
“Why didn’t you just tell your parents and beef up security?” Din’s voice was in planning mode.
Sola peered up at him, squinting against the suns’ light. “And prove I’d let them down?” She looked down at her lap, fiddling her thumbs. “Sneaking around, been committing petty crimes? Would you have done that?”
Din looked at the ground, his voice quiet. “Probably not.”
“Give me my comlink,” Cara said, holding out her hand toward the girl.
You huffed, arms crossing over your chest. “Really, Cara? You hear all that and you’re still banging on about your damned-”
Once the device was in her hand, she took a few steps away and spoke into it in a professional voice. “This is Marshal Dune. Please call off the search. It wasn’t stolen, I just dropped it. Sorry for the confusion.” A male voice you couldn’t quite make out garbled over static on the other end. “Yeah, I’m fine,” Cara replied, turning to face the three of you. “Also, I’m going to take off the rest of the day. Found some booths I want to wander through. We’ll pick up our meeting tomorrow. Yeah. See you then.”
She made her way back over, clipping the comlink to her belt. “I just bought us about twelve hours. What’s the plan?”
“Plan?” Sola looked between the three of you with wide eyes.
You smiled. Her gaze was up and off the ground for the first time this conversation. And it was full of hope. 
“Of course,” you said, smiling gently. “Nobody messes with a member of our family and gets away with it.” Sola grinned at your words. You’d do pretty much anything to keep it there. “Now, let’s go scare some thugs, shall we?”
Xxx
“Now, I know that you packed it,” you said, standing in the fresher of the Crest, voice jiggling as you hopped slightly to pull the armor higher up your chest. “But I don’t know why.”
“Oh, the Jedi is stumped, is she?” Din’s sarcastic amusement was muted through the door, making you roll your eyes. 
Setting your weight to one hip, you pressed the button, and the durasteel barrier hissed open to reveal your Mandalorian leaning against the frame. His arms across his chest as he waited for you, his posture easy and relaxed, he looked like a growth on the walls of his ship.
Cara and Sola were out in the hangar with Peli, their voices faintly heard along with the annoyed bleeps and bloops of R5 as they echoed off the stone walls and up the open ramp. 
“Not stumped,” you countered quickly, walking around him to the middle of the cargo hold as you pulled your gloves on, chin held high as you chose your next words with care. His visor followed you as you went. “Just…. Curious.” You finally landed on with a huff, looking down at your hands as they fiddled mindlessly before adding on a mumbled, “And I’m not a Jedi.”
Din pushed off the wall, his head shaking gently in disbelief as he walked toward you slowly. “I was going to have Boba melt it down and forge it into something better.” He stopped somewhere behind you. You were purposely not paying attention, trying not to get distracted and make sure your armor was set up correctly, only faintly registering the absence of the soft thud of his boots on the metallic floor of the Crest right behind you before he went on. “I don’t know where the armorer is right now, and it’s not full beskar anyway, so any smith could do it, but I trust him.”
“Something better?” You turned to face him, head tilted to the side as you clicked your vambraces into place, their gears whirring to life. Stumbling back an inch as you startled, his chest plate brushing against your nose he was so close, you reached out to swat his arm lightly in annoyance, muttering a Don’t do that and shaking your hand out to the side with a grimace after it pinged off his beskar. Craning your head back to look up at him properly, you couldn’t help the small grin when you found him already peering down at you. “Like what?”
Din’s head tilted just so to the right. “Something for you.” He didn’t miss a beat. 
Your eyes widened slightly before they narrowed to slits. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
He was smiling. You could tell by the lilt in his voice as he leaned into the tilt of his head, his body following and started down the ramp. “You know me so well.”
Reaching out, you grabbed his cape. “Nu-uh. Not so fast, Tin Can. Hold up.” Pulling him back to you, though he gave very little resistance, you leaned around to look into his visor when he was a few inches away, his hands on his hips in mock annoyance. “You don’t have to do that.” Your voice had gone soft. He turned to face you fully. “I know that armor is important to you.”
“So are you.”
You grinned. “Smooth, Shiny. Real smooth.”
Din shrugged one shoulder, his hands falling to rest at his sides loosely. “I have my moments.”
You nodded, starting down the ramp, and talking over your shoulder. “And they are few and far between.”
Din scoffed. “Lucky for you. You couldn’t handle me at full throttle.”
Grinning, you looked down at your vambraces and twisted them a bit. “That sounded like a threat.”
“It’s whatever you wanted it to be, mesh’la.”
“You look like a Mando.” Sola’s voice pulled your attention away from the man at your back before you could reply. 
“What? In beskar?” You gestured to the armor down your body. “No.”
The young girl rolled her eyes at you.
Grinning, you reached up to adjust your scarf tucked in to make the armor fit a bit better, and noticed her posture go rigid.
“You kept it,” she mumbled, pointing lamely toward the blue material around your neck.
“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just….” She pulled at her flowing poncho, revealing her bright pink scarf, still vivid as ever, tucked away underneath, close to her heart. “I have mine, too,” she amended softly. “I keep it hidden so it doesn’t get dirty or torn.”
“Kind of like my armband….” You mumbled, closing the last few steps between you before reaching out to softly roll the fabric of her scarf between your thumb and index finger as she traced the ribbon on your bicep with the tips of her own.
“I still have no idea what hyperspace looks like,” she mused, staring at the glittering fabric with a sad smile. “I was so little when we came here, and my parents wouldn’t let me anywhere near a cockpit. I’ve only ever been in a cabin while the ship was moving. No viewports….” She met your eyes again, hand falling to her side. “Supposedly we flew beside some purrgil and even then they wouldn’t let me look.”
Letting your own hand fall to your side, fiddling with the air aimlessly, you held her gaze. “Why not?”
Sola shrugged. “Not sure. They said something about safety at the time, and I just never pressed it, but now it just feels suffocating.”
“I know it’s annoying,” Din chimed in softly from behind you, his shadow looming over the young girl in the dying sun’s light, “but I would give anything to have my parents be overbearing one more time.”
Sola’s eyes flew up to the Mandalorian. “What happened to them?”
“A story for another time,” he said stoically, turning to the right and going deeper into the hangar. “Let’s confirm the plan.”
You turned with Cara and Sola on your left to head that way, Peli falling in step on your right as the droids followed along behind.
“They aren’t around anymore. It happened when he was very young, about the same age as when we met you. That’s why he became a Mandalorian. That’s all I’ll say,” you offered quietly. “The rest is his story to tell.”
The first stars were twinkling overhead as the sky said good night in brilliant shades of red and orange. 
Once your party had circled around one of Peli’s many cluttered tables off to the side, the top of it littered with ship parts, Din turned to you. 
“Gar beskar'gam jate slanar?” (“Your armor good to go?”)
You nodded. “Elek. An jate.” (“Yes. All good.”)
Sola turned her head slowly up toward Cara, one brow arched in confusion.
The Marshal slowly shook her head, eyes closed. “They do this….”
“Do what?” You asked, brows knit toward your friend.
Cara leveled you with a look. “Start speaking in any one of a thousand languages none of the rest of us know.”
R5 started beeping animatedly, trilling as he wheeled back and forth on his treads excitedly, and ended on a raspberry, making you and Peli laugh.
“Oh, great,” Cara rolled her eyes, “even the droid’s are in on it.”
BD and Treadwell made their way into the circle, the Pit droids not far behind, all of them chattering away as they approached you until Din sent a blaster shot pinging off of a piece of scrap pipe over in a corner.
The droids all screeched before going silent, freezing in their steps as Peli cried in protest, “Hey! Watch it!”
“Yeah, we don’t want another ricochet,” you mumbled, adjusting your armor for no good reason besides looking down and away from his judgemental visor.
Cara and Sola snickered from their spots across the table from you, the weight of Din’s stare beside you nothing short of stifling.
“If you stare any louder, Din, they may ask you to be quiet all the way on Coruscant,” you muttered quietly, adjusting your vambraces needlessly for the umpteenth time to hide the growing smirk across your face.
“I’ll just tell them it’s because of you, they'll understand. Garner sympathy.”
Only your eyes lifted up to glare daggers at his visor, his head tilting to the side teasingly as he held your gaze.
“The plan?” You groused, looking across the table with a sigh as your weight shifted to one side - away from the Mandalorian. 
His tone was light, as if it held a smile, while he laid out the steps of the plan one more time. “Sola said they would be meeting her back at the market in an hour. She meets them as planned. The three of us follow her, and stick around in the shadows, as inconspicuously as possible-”
“Says the man who’s a walking mirror.”
Din didn’t even bother to look at you, only sighing at your remark, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort before he went on. “From there, we follow them back to their base of operations. From what we’ve heard, shouldn’t be too hard to get into. We get in, cause a little chaos, get them to release Sola from this…. Contract, then we leave as quietly as we came.”
“No one dies.”
Cara nodded at your words, Din nodding once in agreement, his body going stiff at your next statement. 
“Even if we run into a Jawa.”
He took a deep breath to begin to protest, but you held up a finger to stop him, mocking his words from earlier.
“Later.”
Xxx
Spotting the culprits was easy enough. They weren’t sly about anything as they paraded through the streets with their puffed up chests, smirking as people scattered from them should they get too close. They hassled a vendor or two, shaking them down for a payout, and Cara grumbled beside you, gripping the buckle that showed she was a Marshal tightly through her poncho she wore to conceal it.
Before you could do anything, Din was hot on their heels, handing the vendors a stack of credits to make reparations as soon as the thugs’ backs were turned. They would try and insist he keep it, lightly shoving the money back into his hands, but Din somehow managed to sweet talk them into accepting every time, his head ducked down slightly, hand over theirs in a calming gesture. You wished you could hear what he said.
“I’ve never seen this side of him,” Cara muttered offhandedly. “Caring, soft almost. It looks good on him.”
“Yeah, it does,” you agreed softly. “That’s how he is with the kid. Grogu brought out a side of him I don’t think would have seen the light of day otherwise.”
She elbowed you. “Oh, I dunno. You’re pretty persuasive. Think it’d’ve come out eventually.”
You slid only your eyes sideways to look at her. “Why must you shit talk me?”
“Because if I don’t I’ll simply fade away. It gives me sustenance. I could go days without food, but teasing you? That simply wouldn’t do.”
Turning your head to peer at her incredulously, you spoke in a low voice after a long moment of silence. “I’m going to go stand over there,” you pointed behind you, “as far away from you as possible right now.”
Cara scoffed. “Good. Go. Your beskar'gam is drawing too much attention, anyway.”
With a grin, you began walking backwards down the street, keeping to the shadows. “Aw, you paid attention.”
Your friend glared at you. “Don’t make me regret it.”
A shit eating grin was across your face. “You’re speaking Mando’a….”
Cara huffed, her attention turning back to the street as she mumbled, “Last time I make that mistake.”
Stopping short, you stood up straight. “Aw, don’t be afraid to show your feelings, Cara. Feelings are a good thing. They make us human-”
“If you don’t stop talking-”
“Are you two done?” Din’s voice across the alley from the two of you pulled both sets of eyes his way. “They left a few minutes ago, but I couldn’t get a word in edgewise, what with your bickering.” His head swiveled between you and the Marshal, judgment heavy through his visor. “Sola is with them, I gave her a tracker, slipped it to her when no one was looking while someone,” he looked at you pointedly, “wasn’t paying attention.”
“I was paying attention,” you groused, voice lowering as you kicked at the sand below your feet. “Just not to that.”
“She was talking about you,” Cara tattled, stepping out of the shadows and into the moonlight, stretching like a loth cat.
“So were you!” You protested, also stepping into the nightlight, making Cara squint as she held up a hand as if to block the glare of the reflection off your armor. Swatting her hand down, you knit your brows at her. “It’s not that bright out here, don’t be dramatic.”
“Children. I’m surrounded by literal children,” Din muttered, turning and walking away exasperatedly.
“There’s no need to be rude,” you grumbled, following after him.
“Then prove me wrong,” he called over his shoulder. “Right now you’re worse than Grogu.” You gasped. “When he needs a nap.” Cara gasped. “And he’s hungry.” You both gasped.
“I take it all back,” Cara stormed past Din, her words brusque and aloof. “You’re the meanest person I know.”
“Person?” Your tone was incredulous as you sped up to fall in step with her ahead of the Mandalorian, head swiveling to land on him with a sly smirk over your next word. “Droid.”
Din stopped in his tracks and sighed, head tilting back to the sky just slightly with a gentle shake. “Oh, this mission is off to a great start.”
When both you and Cara kept walking ahead of him, the bounty hunter finally called out on a hiss, “Hey! Are you two done?”
“I don’t know, are we?” You turned on your heel to face him, hands on your hips as you planted your feet and arched your brows in question, almost accusingly. 
Din bit his tongue before he turned this into a whole something else before this entire endeavor even got off the ground…. again. For the third? fourth? time. He’d lost track of how many times they’d gotten off track in the last five minutes alone, let alone today as a whole.
With a jut of his thumb to his left down a narrow alley, he tilted his head that way for emphasis. “Thugs’re that way.” 
Both you and Cara hesitated for only a moment, weight shifting slightly from side to side before you dropped your hands from your hips with a huff and headed toward the alley, your Marshal friend in tow.
As you passed by Din, he muttered a low and amused, “Oh wise one.”
“I’ll tell Sola you said so,” you shot back in a low murmur. “She already knows I’m the smart one.” The alley was so small you had to form a single file line, and somehow you were in the front with Cara behind you, and Din pulling up the back. 
“She just lets you think that’s what she thinks,” Cara hummed. “We all know it’s me.”
Din snorted. “It’s neither of you.” He shook his head at the two sets of eyes shooting daggers at him over their shoulders as they came to an abrupt stop in front of him. “I’m the one with the map and the tracker, remember?” He tapped the right side of his helmet with his index finger.
“Oh, will you just get in front and lead, you overgrown Tin Can?!” You hissed, flattening yourself against the wall to let him pass, the heat of the day still clinging to the wall at your back.
Cara rolled her eyes as she squished herself, allowing him through, but it was still a tight fit all around between the three of you. When Din passed her, his back against the opposing wall, she grimaced though he moved quickly. “Will you just get out of my face, Shiny?”
“What, you mean you don’t want to get to know me this well?” Din relaxed his weight a little, leaning into her slightly. “I thought we were friends.”
Cara shoved him with one arm toward you, making him laugh as he kept going, stumbling slightly from the impact. “We won’t be if you keep on that thread of conversation, Mando.”
Din stopped directly in front of you, tilting his head sideways as he muttered softly, “Hi, mesh’la.” Leaning his forehead into yours, he chuckled softly at Cara’s over exaggerated gag in reaction.
“I’m trying to be mad at you,” you grumbled, fisting one hand into his cowl as you ignored Cara’s groans, elbowing her in the ribs with your free arm when she continued.
“What was that for?!” She cried in protest.
“Just because I’m happy, doesn’t mean you need to moan about it.”
Her face scrunched in disgust as she looked away at the wall across from her. “Go be happy somewhere else. We have a job to do.”
Din sighed. “She’s right,” and pushed off the wall to get in front.
You held on to his cape from behind him. “No. No, she’s never right.” Cara landed a swift kick to the back of your boot. “Ow! What was that for?”
“For being so wrong all the time!”
“Don’t make me speak Mando’a to you,” you grumbled. “Or how about Huttese? I also know Shyriiwook now, too.”
“How about you speak silence.”
Din snorted at the Marshal’s words from his spot in front of you, Cara huffing out a laugh from behind.
“When all of this is over, you both are gonna pay.”
“You don’t scare me,” Cara scoffed.
Looking over your shoulder, you arched a brow, holding up one hand by your face and wiggling your fingers. “Well maybe I should.”
Her face went pale, her steps faltering slightly as understanding dawned on her features. “You don’t scare me,” she repeated, her voice softer after she swallowed roughly.
You chuckled, turning back to face Din’s cape once again. “The Force works in mysterious ways.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Before you could answer, Din cut in, without bothering to turn around, “It's just her way of threatening to trip you. Don’t read into it too much.”
He no sooner said that than he was stumbling forward down the alley, reaching out to brace himself on the walls with his forearms.
“Look at that? My boot also works in mysterious ways.”
“What happened?” Cara asked, oblivious to you tripping Din with the toe of your shoe.
“Gravity. Don’t read too much into it.”
Grinning up at the back of the Mandalorian’s helmet where he had stopped in front of you, you let go of his cape still in your grip. “Careful, Din. There’s gravity there.”
“What did he even trip on?” Cara’s voice was incredulous.
“Air? His ego? Pride…. The options are endless….”
“The foot of an over eager Jedi that’s about to be in her mouth if she keeps talking,” Din hissed, barely looking over his shoulder at the two of you, arms falling from the walls to his sides.
“How do you mean?” You scoffed, following after him as he began to move down the alley again.
“We’re here,” he said with a flourish, the small avenue opening up to a wide street brightly lit with several buildings that dead ended down on the right. With a swooping gesture, he moved to the left, making room for the two of you to step forward beside him, his visor following you closely before tilting to the side. “You’re welcome.”
“She’s right,” Cara mused quietly. “Your ego is big enough for all three of us to trip on.”
“At least it’s well deserved,” Din groused. “I got us here, didn’t I?”
“You followed a map. That was attached to a tracker. A blindfolded bantha wouldn’t have had a much more difficult time….” You said offhandedly, surveying the area.
Din stared at you for a long moment. “That armor makes you mean,” he grumbled.
“It makes me wonderful,” you countered, eyes across the street on a conspicuous crate, narrowing when it jostled slightly. “You’re just jealous that it looks better on me than it ever did on you.”
“Yeah. That’s it,” Din agreed sarcastically, his weight shifting to one side as he followed your line of sight. Pressing the side of his helmet, he immediately went into planning mode. “I’ve got two heat signatures.”
“Matches up with what I’m sensing. Two life forms. A whole mess more inside.” You took your blaster from its holster, its gears whirring to life. “Everyone set to stun?”
Hums of agreement came back at you along with nods in your peripheral.
“I’ll go in on the right while you two take care of whoever is lurking over there,” Cara gestured across the street with her blaster. “Sneak in that side door and start clearing until I find Sola and slip her a blaster, then we’ll find this boss.”
“I’m in,” you agreed, while Din nodded in agreement beside you. “Let’s go, Tin Can. We have some thugs we need to introduce to beskar.”
Xxx
Storming the place was easy. These thieves didn’t know the first thing about defending their home base.
Getting out on the other hand…. That was proving to be more difficult.
You pulled up behind a wall, tucking your arms into your chest as tightly as possible to make yourself a smaller target, your blaster held between both hands at the ready.
“You said this would be easy!” Din yelled from his mirror position across the hall. Well, almost mirror. He leaned on one shoulder, blaster held up in the opposite hand near his head. His whole body looked just on this side of casual. 
“I said no such thing. You did,” you countered, trying to mimic his posture subtly. “And on that note, Cara was the one who said you and I should go in together, so this is all-”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Cara’s voice carried from down the hall, the first word elongated as she slid across the floor on her hip to avoid flying blaster bolts to finally land next to you before popping up. “Don’t you dare drag me into this lovers tiff. Nuh-uh.”
Both you and Din spoke in tandem, “This isn’t-”, “We’re not-”
“Yeah, yeah,” Sola said dismissively, jogging up easily behind Din, a singe mark on the shoulder of her poncho. 
Din stood up straight in an instant, took her arm in his hold gently to examine it, turning her every which way to get a better look. “What happened?”
“Told the boss I quit.” She grinned proudly before it melted into a grimace. “He didn’t take it so well.”
Blaster bolts zinged down the hall between the four of you, streaking the air in vibrant shades of purple and red, even an errant green here and there.
“If I could just use my saber-” you started, cut off by the unanimous voices of your friends.
“No!”
Letting your head lull back against the wall with a gentle thump, you rolled it in aggravation before facing the others again. “And why not?! I’ve saved your asses so many times!”
“Close quarters!” Cara was gesturing with her hands while she spoke, referencing the hall. “Too many people!” She gestured between the four of you. “Laser sword very bright! Very hot!”
You narrowed your eyes at your friend. “I singed one corner of your tunic. One!”
“And that was one too many,” Din countered, popping around the corner to let off a barrage of shots before coming back for safety.
“This was my favorite,” Cara said forlornly, looking down at the smoldering fabric. 
“I’ll buy you another one.”
“No you won’t,” Cara scoffed. “You can’t afford my tastes-”
“Can we please focus on getting out of here!” Sola’s annoyed voice rang out louder than the blaster fire, pulling all three gazes her way. 
Din was the first to break, turning back to lay down cover fire once again around the corner. “Kid’s right,” he grunted, before letting off a shot that was accompanied by a pained scream at the end of the hall.
“I thought we were set to stun?” You hissed.
Din looked down at his blaster and shrugged meekly, flipping it back to stun. “Sorry. Old habits….”
“I know I am,” Sola said matter of factly, pulling you back to the topic at hand. “Now what’s the plan?”
Stepping a little closer to the corner you were tucked behind, you holstered your blaster. “The plan is for you all to eat your words tonight.”
“What are you doing?” Cara’s worried tone sounded at your back, Din’s incredulous one to your left. “Mesh’la, come on, don’t do something-”
“To save our skins?” You finished for him, looking up into his visor with a determined glint in your eye. “Watch me.”
After taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and stepped out into the hall where the blaster fire had died down just slightly. The few earrent bolts bounced away from you as if they were hitting a force field. Confused whispers from the enemy preceded a pickup in the rapid fire, bolts flying at a new frenzy, none of which came anywhere close to touching you or your friends.
Lifting your hands in front of you, the bolts began to stop, hovering in mid air inches from your face, your hands, some several feet from you. The room glowed with multi-colored plasma bolts hovering above the floor. As the shots died out, silence filling in the blanks left behind, the corner of your mouth twitched up in an amused smirk.
With a small twitch of your index finger, all their blasters were disabled with a tink. 
When you opened your eyes, the blaster bolts that hung suspended all immediately flew the other way, back toward the senders, but in such a way that they wouldn’t hit anybody. 
Within an instant the group of thieves at the end of the hall were left cowering, curled away from the stranger approaching them from the opposite end of the hall. Some blinked wide eyes while others scrambled back, all of them surrounded by smoke swirling around from the black scorches left behind from the blaster bolts.
“I think we win,” you said calmly, walking toward them slowly.
“Not if I have anything to say about it!” One rogue thief said, jumping to his feet, blaster aimed at you.
“I wouldn’t do that,” you warned, not even looking at him.
When he pulled the trigger and nothing happened, he looked at his blaster in confusion, pulling the trigger a few more times before shaking it incessantly. “Oh, well.” He shrugged. “I have this.” He pulled a spare from the back of his pants.
In two seconds flat Din had stepped forward and shot him with a stun bolt, dropping him to the ground.
“Like I said,” you pulled the active blaster to you with the Force, disengaging the firing mechanism like you had the others before tucking it into the back of your own pants. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“You don’t need another one,” Din groaned. “That makes what, seven now?”
You scoffed. “Not nearly.” With a dry chuckle, you shook your head. “Try three.”
“Including the knife?”
“Oh, yeah! The knife. No, that’s four.”
“Guys!” Cara cried, walking up to stand on the other side of you. “Seriously?”
“What?” You looked at her a moment before cutting your eyes toward the thieves still looking on in silence. “I’m just recounting the weapons I’ve won from our various missions! I see something I like, I take it.”
“These guys don’t care.” Cara gestured to them with her blaster.
“No…. But I do.” You turned to look at the punks with a broad grin. “And something tells me they want to keep me really happy. Right?”
They all nodded vigorously. All but one. He got to his feet as he said, “Oh, kark this!” He was no sooner on his feet than Din had hit him with a stun bolt, dropping him into a heap of limbs where he stood.
“At least you remembered to use stun this time,” you threw over your shoulder towards Din, never looking away from the band of thieves still looking on wide eyed at your little party of four.
“Yeah…. But I’ve been known to forget things real fast,” Din mumbled, shifting his weight just slightly to rest easily on one leg. The way he held his blaster would make anyone think he’d gone soft, but you knew if someone made a wrong move, they’d be down in an instant.
“Here’s what's gonna happen,” Cara stepped forward, her Marshal voice in full swing. “Sola over here is out. I don’t wanna hear of any of you within spitting distance of her ever again, do you hear me?”
Most of them nodded, wide eyed at the Marshal. All but one. It’s always one, you thought with a smile and gentle shake of your head. 
“And what’re you gonna do about it? Marshal?” The way the punk said her name dripped with so much sarcasm and venom, you were surprised Cara was still standing. If looks could kill, she’d be dead right now. “You don’t even live here, so how are you going to enforce anything?”
To his credit, he looked slightly afraid when you and Din took measured steps forward while Cara spoke.
“I have friends all over. I don’t think you want to find out just how far my reach can go…. Young man.”
Cara winced slightly on the last words and it took everything in you not to burst out laughing. The way her eyes darted over to you, however briefly, with a mighty rise and fall of her shoulders told you she knew she’d never hear the end of this.
He scoffed. “Like I’d believe any of that.”
“But you’d believe blaster bolts levitating in space then flying the wrong way?” You challenged, taking another small step forward. 
The kid scoffed again.
“You believe this?” Din was striding forward, his vambraces whirring to life as the flame thrower charged up.
Reaching out with the Force, you disengaged his vambrace as the wall of fire just started to lick at the toes of the boots of the insolent kid.
“Not now, Mando. I think he gets it.” Shooting your eyes over to the kid before looking back into his visor, you saw him glance over to find the teen cowering behind the others, mumbling apologies.
Din strode over to you, keeping his body facing the group of adolescents to make them think he was still a threat, which he was, but you knew him well enough to know he was looking at you now and not them, his head turned just slightly.
“Turning off my vambraces now, huh?”
You shrugged. “What can I say? You shouldn’t be frying teenagers, Din. It’s not nice.”
Leaning closer to your ear, his voice hummed through the modulator, something in his tone different this time. “Later,” he promised again.
You grinned, winking at Cara as she rolled her eyes and walked off with an over dramatically gagging Sola. “Can’t wait.”
Xxx
Back at the hangar, the four of you tried to move as quietly as possible, to not wake a sleeping Peli. 
“I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know how I could ever repay you-”
Placing your hand on Sola’s shoulder, you smiled down at her when her big eyes looked up your way. So much like the first time you met her all those years ago. “There’s nothing to thank. That’s just what families do.”
“We help each other,” Cara agreed, stepping up behind Sola and putting her arm around her shoulders. Tilting her head to the side in thought, she added with a grin, “And yeah, sometimes we want to murder each other, too, but….” She looked at Din. “It comes and goes.”
“Mostly comes,” the Mandalorian muttered, adjusting his belt before walking off toward the ramp of the Crest. He stopped at the foot of it, withdrawing a vibroblade from his boot before he turned around and walked back. “Hey, kid.” He offered Sola the blade. “Take care of yourself.”
“You bet I will,” she mumbled around a grin, flipping the blade in her palm with expert precision that had your brow arching. Upon closer inspection, she saw a mudhorn upon the hilt. “That’s the same symbol that’s on your armor….” She looked over at your saber. “And your….” 
“Like I said,” you pulled her into a hug. “We take care of family.”
“Where’s my mudhorn?” Cara groused.
Din extended a blaster with a freshly etched mudhorn he had tucked into the back of his belt to Sola as he looked at Cara, head tilted just so. “Hidden with your act of valor. Go find it.”
“You’re mean,” Cara shoved his shoulder.
“You’d get tired of us anyway,” you mused in response to Cara, wrapping your arms around Din’s waist in what seemed an innocent manner, then lightly pinching his side in admonishment, smiling at his slight groan in response. Before he could get his own arm around your waist in retaliation, you pinned it to his side with the Force, smiling up at him smugly when he grunted in unamusement. 
“I already have,” she agreed, looking down her nose at the two of you.
“No you haven’t,” Din countered tiredly as he turned back toward the ship, heading up the ramp.
“What do you know?” She called after him.
“Everything!” His voice came from inside the ship overlapping your muttered, “Nothing.”
“Not enough,” you amended with a grin, meeting Cara’s eye as she returned your smile. “He doesn’t know nearly enough.”
“It’s a good thing I love teaching, then.” She laughed, offering you a hug before she turned to leave the hangar. After a few steps, she stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “You coming kid?”
Sola hesitated in her spot in front of you. “But I don’t…. I don’t wear armor.”
“Verd'ika….” You reached out and rested your hand on her shoulder. “Ad’ika. Cyare'se. Daworir’ika. Ka’ra’ika…. Almost all of my nicknames for you had something to do with little.” (“Little soldier. Little one. Loved ones. Little stink. Little star.”)
“Not so little anymore.”
“I can see that,” you smiled softly. “Tal tomad.”
She pulled a face. “Do I even want to know?”
“Blood ally.” You reached out and pinched her scarf between your finger tips. “Verd ori'shya beskar'gam.”
“What…. What does that mean?”
You smiled. “I need to come with a protocol droid….”  She laughed. “Warrior greater than armor. It means armor isn’t everything.” Moving your hand from her scarf to rest on her shoulder once again, you felt Din come to stand behind you, his reflection beginning to morph in Sola’s watering eyes. “It’s who wears it.” 
Xxx
As you watched Cara and Sola walk out of the hangar, Din pulled you to the side gently.
“Speaking of armor, you don’t have any now, either.”
Looking down at the armor still very much on your frame, you looked up at his visor and blinked at him once. Twice. “Excuse me?”
He shifted his weight, hands resting on his belt in his default I already explained this pose. “I’m about to meet up with Boba in a few minutes. Need the armor so I can give it to him.”
You matched his posture, ignoring his indignant head roll. “Oh right. For this super secret thing for me I can’t know about.”
Din nodded once. “You got it.”
Shaking your head in disbelief, you turned and made your way up the ramp of the Crest, not bothering to turn around as you grumbled, “You’re awful.”
“I know.” His tone was nothing short of beaming.
Xxx
The next day, the two of you were up with the suns and beginning work on the Crest with a handful of Peli’s droids. 
The woman herself had appeared after a while, but she obviously was not intended for morning hours.
Peli had disappeared into the shaded depths of the hangar, citing paperwork of some sort, but her snores could be heard from the main landing area. 
One thing led to another, and the work on the ship was forgotten in favor of brushing up on footwork with two chosen weapons.
The hanger sung with the clashing of beskar on kyber, his spear standing resilient against your purple blade.
The pit droids were hard at work on the Crest to try and cover up the cacophony of battle sounds rising up into the air.
As it hit a new fever pitch, you and Din drawing close together after some particularly fancy footwork, the glow of kyber straining against beskar painting your faces in a soft illuminated glow as you pulled closer still, you smirked. 
“I think that means I win, Mandalorian.”
Din scoffed, his modulator popping with the sound. “Nayc. A’nuhunla,” he drawled, his voice low. (“No. But funny.”)
Pulling back from one another, you huffed out a chuckle as you began to circle each other in assessment, waiting for the other to make the next move. “Give it to me in Basic, Mando.” Disengaging your saber, you stopped dead in your tracks, arms dangling limply by your sides. “I’m too tired to fight and translate at the same time.”
“Gar Jetii’kad,” Din pointed to the now bladeless hilt in your hand. “Nau’ur kad.” (“Your lightsaber.”) (“Light up a saber.”) 
“Din-”
But he didn’t let you finish, his hands tightening around his spear as his weight lowered, ready to charge. “Kad’au, Jetii.” (“Lightsaber, Jedi.”)
“Ne'johaa,” you mumbled, igniting the blade and lowering yourself into a ready stance to match. (“Shut up.”)
Once you were set, you stood straight up again, smiling softly when Din let his lowered weight relax as well in aggravation, his modulator hissing in annoyance. “This was just supposed to be for fun. Some training, maybe. Not-”
“Kad,” he almost barked, before launching at you. (“Saber.”)
“Mir’sheb,” you hissed through gritted teeth as you blocked an overhead blow from his spear, squinting your eyes as sparks flew from the impact. (“Smartass.”)
He took a minuscule step closer, pressing his weight into you and making you bend back slightly. His voice was low and mocking, but strained to show his struggle against your strength as you continued to push back. “Only for you.”
With a shout, you pushed him off of you with a last reserve of strength.
“That’s it. That’s it. I’m done.” You held your hands up by your head. “No more.” Twirling your saber as you stretched your wrist, you tilted your head from side to side. “You’ve got some unresolved issues with only using the stun back there at the hideout or something,” gesturing to him with a swooping hand gesture, you ignored his snort and slight shift of weight, “but I’m done with all your nonsense.” Turning away you took a deep breath and disengaged your saber, mumbling under your breath, “Ni copaani buy'ce gal.” (“I want a bucket of booze.”)
The next thing you knew you were flat on your back, sand flying out around you as the Mandalorian stood over you, flipping his spear back to its resting position with a flourish. All you could process as you blinked up at the cloudless sky was heat, grit, and what?
“I think that means I win…. Manda Jetii.” (The state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit.)
Eyes flying to his visor, you had to squint at the glare of the suns off the brilliant metal. You could only blink up at him, taking his hand when he offered it and helped you up. After a shared moment of simply staring at one another, he turned to survey the hangar, repeating your words from earlier. “Ni copaani buy'ce gal.”
It was at that point you noticed Peli’s face. 
Her very, very, very distraught face. 
Following her line of sight, your eyes went wide as you took in the Crest over your shoulder. Sparks flew, singe marks lined the hull. Did I do that?
A poor little astromech Peli had just acquired was trying to tune up something near the ramp of the ship, and Din, once he turned to survey the damage for himself, spying an unfamiliar droid linking into his ship, let his spear loose without a second thought. 
If you hadn't had the mind to divert it midair with the Force right before impact, the droid would be a pile of steaming wires right now instead of a trembling pile of bolts.
The screech of terror it let out as the spear made impact right above its head made you want to laugh, but you stifled it into your hand, turning a disapproving glare on Din when he asked why you did that.
“We don’t murder innocent droids.”
“No droid is innocent,” he grumbled, looking over at the scrappy little astro unit. 
“They are until proven guilty.”
“I don’t need any proof,” Din mumbled. “Have all the proof I need.”
“You have nothing.”
Before he could say anything else, the angry mech was rolling toward the bounty hunter with an electrified arm ready to zap him, but you held it at bay with the Force. You also held Din back, snorting when he turned a look on you. 
“No.”
Peli somehow materialized beside you, everything about her bewildered and distraught. You let the two arguing tin cans go as you turned your attention to your friend, the final zap from the droid to Din’s thigh before it rolled off not going unnoticed. 
Pointing every which way with each new statement, Peli began to protest. “I was- They were- You just-” Her hands slapped down to her sides, her face pulled determinedly. “That’s not fair!”
She turned to her pit droid crew. “Why do I get all the defective droids in this town?” They began to prattle but she cut them off. “You guys couldn’t fix the wrong side of a bantha.”
Reaching out with your mind, a twitch of your foot sideways ever so slightly, and one of the compartments at the back of the Crest flew off, the wiring inside plopping out like the ship had drunk too much spotchka the night before and now had something to prove.
“It’s alright, Peli. It wasn’t all you.”
“You bet your beskar it wasn’t!” She turned a look on Din. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that massive spear sticking out of the side of my ship.”
Din had the decency to look sheepish, turning his gaze to stare across the hangar, hands on his hips.
“Now I’ll have to track down the Jawas to find enough ancient parts to fix this hunk of junk.” She smacked the hull closest to her with her palm, her eyes fluttering shut as a panel fell off to her right with a clatter.
Leveling her gaze on you, a shudder ran down your spine as Peli stared at you in silence. Finally she spoke again. “You. You’re going to help.”
“And you,” she pointed at Din. He pointed at himself in question and she nodded, maintaining the accusing jab of her index. “Yes, you. Mandalorian.” Din tilted his head curiously. “You are going to go to the cantina to look for a job to pay for all of…. this!”
Peli gestured wildly to the sparking Crest behind her. 
You winced at the singe marks left behind by your saber, beside the puncture mark from the spear as it had let loose from his hands and flown across the hangar. Its beskar body still stood proudly from the hull, glinting in the afternoon sun.
Reaching up high above her head, Peli jerked it from the body of the ship with a grating screech of metal on metal. Green goo began to shoot from the new opening, coating the sand of the hangar around her feet in several inches in a matter of seconds.
She looked down at it before bringing menacing eyes up to glare at Din.
“I’ll be at the cantina,” he mumbled, turning to leave without anymore fuss.
“I’ll…. Be here, I guess,” you mumbled, catching Peli’s death stare out of the corner of your eye. “Pick me up some of those blue cookies on your way back?”
“Really?” Din stopped, cocking his head at you.
“Yeah!” You shot back. “The kid isn’t here, so I don’t have to share them.”
“Who says I don’t want some?”
You scoffed. “Experience.” Crossing your arms, you stared at him. “Besides, who says I’m sharing regardless?”
Din took a step back toward you, his voice lowering playfully. “I could make you….”
“Cantina!” Peli hissed.
You’d never seen Din move so quickly.
Xxx
Peli had dragged you out to the large rolling fortress of the Jawas after she had given her pit droid crew a stern talking to. 
You couldn’t make eye contact with them as you stood just behind her and listened to her admonishments. Their judgmental stares from their single ocular lenses could be felt even across the hangar. 
Looking over the wares, you were just glad Din wasn’t here. Jawas would be dropping like flies if he were. He really had a problem.
Bringing your scarf up to cover your face, wrapping it around your head to keep it secure and protect you just a layer more from the suns beating down and sand blowing in the rough winds, you squinted at an old astromech tucked away in the back near the ramp.
“What about that one?” You asked, pointing to it.
The little hooded figure helping you turned, exclaiming something when he realized what you were asking about, then began talking a mile a minute and gesturing even faster.
Holding up your hands, you cut in, “Yeah, yeah, hold on little guy,” your new Jawa friend grunted at the name as you turned to call for help. “Peli! Get over here!” Waving your hand to gesture her over, you hoped it’d help her find you a bit faster.
You saw her curls before you saw her, turning your way and quickly weaving through the junk as her grumbling got closer and closer, but the exact words were never quite clear enough to understand. “What?” She finally asked in exasperation when she was about ten feet away, a power coupling in one hand and…. Something else in the other, you didn’t know what it was, but it had a lot of exposed wires and reminded you of an eyeball on a stick.
Pointing to your little robed shadow, you smiled at her. “Translate. Please.”
With a roll of her eyes, she focused on your small companion, nodding as he went along. “He says you want that R2 unit.” She turned her focus back to you, hands on her hips, eye on a stick still tightly grasped in one hand, “Any particular reason? I have plenty of good droids back at the hangar….” R5 started tweeting and blipping in concern, making her roll her whole head over to look at the droid on her left. “Oh, keep your dome on. I didn’t mean you.” She gestured to the droid with the eye-stick lazily before her eyes cut over to you. “Unless….” R5 let out a mighty whoop before rolling away.
Chirping and blooping from the R2 unit pulled your attention back to the matter at hand, watching in amusement as it rocked from side to side quickly on two of its three legs. Its shiny dome twisted back and forth as it let out shrill beeps and whistles, a lone raspberry cutting off the tirade before it focused on a Jawa coming up to stand beside it. 
As the tiny cloaked figure reached out to adjust the restraining bolt on its front, one of the droid’s front compartments sprung open in the blink of an eye, a surge of electricity arcing through the air and making the Jawa scream. The little scrapper jumped back, stumbling as its cloak began to smoke, strings of Jawaese getting lost in the wind as the tiny thief marched back over to the droid and swiftly kicked it near its treads.
“Stop!” You ran over, holding up your hands to try and intervene, turning to Peli with a pleading look on your face.
She tossed the junk in her hands onto the ground, doing a double take for the eye on a stick before deciding against it and made her way over to you, thrusting the odd part into your chest as she passed by. With a roll of your eyes, you tucked it into the bag of parts to make its way back to the hangar that was slung across your shoulders. 
The bag was over half full, and getting heavier by the minute, but you’d yet to see anything resembling a part you recognized go into the satchel. At this point you think ninety five percent of what she had picked up wasn’t even for the Crest, she was just exacting her revenge on Din. And you had no problem with that.
Peli tilted her head as she listened to the Jawa go on a tirade. Eyes flickering between the tiny robe with eyes and the droid, she finally looked back over her shoulder at you. “He said this droid is just a problem. It’s memory hasn’t been wiped in too long, so it’s developed an…. Ah, well,” she quirked her eyebrows, her hands landing on her hips as she studied the droid. “A strong personality.”
The R2 unit blooped before zapping the Jawa again, a warbling whistle following after in what almost sounded like a taunt for more.
“Stop,” you said again, taking another step toward the feisty astromech. It was very hard to not smile as you studied the round dome, its light blinking red and white at you rapidly as it scanned you up and down, finding something it trusted enough to calm down. It didn’t zap a third time, but it kept the utility equipped, sending a surge down the line when the Jawa got too close again as a warning.
It reminded you of Din. It even kind of looked like him. You had to really try to contain the smile as you thought of his reaction if you said that out loud.
The head tilt.
The finger.
“Later.”
The body was the typical white of most R2 units, though obviously worn and aged, some pockets of rust peeking through here and there along the edge, along with carbon scoring like it’d seen some firefights. With a darker silver dome, close to the color of your vambraces, you could tell it had received repairs along the line, the contrasting metals denoting different eras in its lifetime. 
The bands along its body that contained the attachments and along the sides of its legs were a warm coppery color, while the panels along its head were a dark gunmetal gray that reminded you of the Crest. 
Altogether it was a patchwork of parts, but it made something beautiful to you. Like when the suns hit the sand just right and caused a reflection in the distance. This droid was a mirage, a shadow.
“What’s wrong with it?” You interrupted the Jawa currently on another tirade that made Peli look like she was struggling to keep up. Getting down on one knee, still a good distance from the droid, you stared into its lense as it studied you once again.
Your friend turned to face you more fully. “What do you mean, they just told you. It hasn’t-”
“No, why hasn’t it moved?”
Peli asked the question, turning to look at the droid as she listened to the answer, its lense now turned on her.
“He said the tread on the right foot is broken. They have it out here because someone is coming to pick it up to wipe the memory. Its-”
“Not anymore,” you said quietly. “It’s coming with me.” Getting to your feet, you began to walk away, stopping when several Jawa voices began to follow after you, each more insistent than the other. You looked at Peli, brow raised in question.
“They say you can’t do that. It’s already a done deal. Now they’re asking if you want any of the other droids, they have an-”
You turned, looking at the gathering of red glowing eyes blinking up at you expectantly. Keeping your voice even, you made eye contact with each pair as you spoke. “You will release the droid into my care.”
A string of Jawaese was mumbled back to you, which you assumed was just them repeating your words, so you went on.
“Remove the restraining bolt, load it in the speeder, and let us go on our way.”
As they mumbled again, they broke off into groups to do what you said. 
Tapping the leader on the shoulder, you held firmly when he turned to look at you. “And it won’t cost anything.”
He nodded before going to join the others.
“How did you….” Peli’s voice dripped with amazement. “Can you-”
“No.”
“You didn’t let me-”
“No, Peli.”
“Fine,” she huffed, crossing her arms and facing the Jawas as they loaded the droid who whistled happily while they worked. “I’m just saying-”
She stopped when you slowly turned to look at her, brow arched.
“Yeah, no, forget about it. Not important.”
Xxx
As you unloaded the droid at the hangar, once it was down on the ground, you knelt down slowly to inspect its injured foot. 
“I’m just going to tilt you a little bit to get a better look, okay?”
The pit droids began lowering some type of harness down to help you, but the droid began to rock back and forth, protesting loudly as its dome swung back and forth.
“Okay, okay,” you held up your hands placatingly, gesturing for the other droids to stop. “No lifts. I’ll do it myself, but you’ve got to trust me. It’ll feel a little strange, but you’re completely safe, I promise. Alright?”
The droid bleeped in agreement after a moment of hesitation, and without further hassle, you nudged it slowly onto its side, floating at the proper angle, held just right by an unseen force. As it moved into the proper placement, the R2 unit blooped an amazed sound.
After poking at the tread for a moment, you wrinkled your brows. “This isn’t broken. What did they mea-”
You were cut short when the tread on the other foot whirred to life where it still rested on the ground, spitting sand in your face in a rapid fire. As you drew back quickly, swatting at the sting settling into your eyes, you just caught a glimpse through your squint of the droid falling the rest of the way to the ground with a screech, your concentration broken.
Before you could really react properly, the R2 unit had popped upright, all manner of Binary curses and colorful language beeping and whistling as it whipped out the zapper it had used earlier on the Jawa, sending a warning jolt down the spine while rotating in a circle to keep all the advancing droids and Peli at bay. 
Then it started to lift off with some sort of propulsion, a victorious squeal echoing off the hangar walls that was all too soon followed by the sound of sputtering exhaust. Its lense pointed down, watching it all unfold, a quiver of fear warbled out of its voice box. The flames keeping it afloat flickered then died, sending it hurtling to the ground with a scream.
You were just able to stick out a hand, focusing enough to catch it inches from the ground. “I got you!” As you lowered it the last few millimeters back onto the sand, you let out a heavy sigh, relaxing into the warm earth beneath you with a quietly muttered, “I got you.”
“Well, that was a first,” Peli announced loudly, amused, as the R2 unit looked at you, a spurt of oil suddenly spewing onto the ground as it moaned in distress.
“It’s about right on track for me, honestly,” you huffed, laughing as you got back to your feet. 
The droid quaked as you got closer, worried coos softly filling the hangar.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” you spoke softly, coming back onto your knees a few feet from the R2 unit. “That was actually kind of impressive.” You smirked, watching as the trembling stopped. The droid was silent and you smiled a bit broader. “I would expect nothing less, honestly. It’s what I would do in your situation. Hell, I have done it a few times….” The droid whistled softly in amusement.
You laughed, feeling victorious when it wheeled a bit closer to you.
“I have, too. I live a very extraordinary life, my friend.”
A questioning bloop.
“Yes, I said ‘friend’. I consider you that, not anything less.”
A series of beeps and whistles, the red light blinking much more slowly now.
“I do speak Binary. Very observant.”
A raspberry.
You laughed, and it was followed by the closest sound a droid can make to the sound, a series of trills.
“Can we start over?” 
The droid wheeled closer, bumping its front foot into your knee gently before wheeling back slightly as if to say, ‘go on’.
You introduced yourself, reaching a hand out toward the droid. A panel sprung open on its front, the zapper coming out without a charge, making you arch a brow at the unit as it tittered playfully. The panel closed before another opened, and a small three pronged metal hand extended, closing around two of your fingers and shaking them in jerky movements as it beeped and blooped away.
“R2-B4?” The droid whistled in confirmation, releasing your fingers and closing the panel. “Can I just call you Bee?” A beep that sounded like ‘yes’ and also meant ‘yes’ in Binary chirped happily, filling the hangar. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bee. How about we get you tuned up, into a nice hot oil bath, run a few diagnostics to make sure you’re running as optimally as you can be, then starting tomorrow we can-”
Some angry bloops and bleeps filled the air, while she rocked back and forth on her feet.
“No, no, no! No memory wipe! That’s not what I meant! I wouldn’t do that to you.” She stopped rocking, but her lense scanned you up and down rapidly, her light flashing between red and white faster than you had seen yet. “You don’t know me yet, so I don’t blame you. But I’m not going to do that to you. That won’t happen so long as you are here. With me. With us. That makes you you. I don’t want just a droid, I want you, Bee.”
Reaching out your hand, you rested it lightly on her dome and an affectionate beep came out quietly.
“I just meant to make sure you’re running as optimally as you can be. You deserve it, friend.”
It was at this point Din came walking back into the hangar. He stopped short when he saw the new astromech snuggled up so closely with you, the disarray of the hangar floor with the spilled oil and obvious scuffle, and Peli with her army of droids behind her and new eyeball on a stick waving around animatedly as she greeted him with a smile.
“Mando! Finally!” She walked toward him. “You will not believe the day we’ve had.”
The look Din leveled on you through his visor was nothing short of stifling. “Try me.”
Xxx
Once Din had calmed down enough to not shoot the new droid on sight, and Bee had calmed down enough to not zap the Mandalorian on sight, you sat down to explain the situation to Din as the astro unit underwent an oil bath.
“I don’t know, Man- Din.” You pulled a face at yourself as he chuckled at the slip up. “It just felt like I was supposed to, and she….” You looked straight into his visor. “The voices stopped when I saw her. Everything did. I don’t know.” Looking down to the table top to your right, you began to fiddle your fingers aimlessly. “I swear you won’t have to-”
“Okay.”
“Now don’t just- what?” You shook your head to dislodge any sand that may be plugging your ears and causing you to mishear because you could have sworn he said…. “Okay? ….Okay? Did you just say okay?”
Din laughed softly. “Yes.” He nodded. “Fine. I trust you.”
Narrowing your eyes, you leaned forward onto your knees, getting closer to him and peering up with scrutiny for an agonizing minute. “What did you do?”
Leaning back in his chair with a sigh, he rested his hand on his thigh. “Got you a present.” His head tilted to the side as you sat up a bit straighter. “Still gonna look at me like that?”
Eyes going wide, you sat back and matched his posture.
“That’s what I thought,” he said with a snort. “I met up with Boba last night, as you know, and after going to the cantina, he caught up to me with the finished product.”
Din reached over and pulled a tarp off a crate to his right, how you’d missed it you had no idea, especially since the item before your eyes still sang with the same signature as his armor had. 
A jetpack.
Raw beskar and durasteel glinted under the twin suns, polished to perfection and ready to earn their first scuff marks.
“Din…. No.” You looked at him in disbelief. “You didn’t.”
Reaching for the pack, he groaned slightly with the effort, sighing once it sat in his lap. “I couldn’t look at you in that horribly fitting armor one more time, and it was just taking up space on the ship.” He set the heavy gift in your lap. “Now I don’t have to lug you around anymore.”
Scoffing, you leaned in closer to him, batting your lashes. “Don’t lie, you like lugging me around.”
He tossed his head side to side. “It has its perks, yes, but now….” He gently nudged you back with a finger to your shoulder so you were sitting normally in your seat again. “Lift yourself, mesh’la.”
Sitting up straight as you held the jetpack in your lap, you traced its curves with your hand. “I don’t know whether to be offended or say thank you.”
Meeting the gaze of his visor through your lashes, he simply nodded.
“That’s all I needed to hear. Now, let’s get you fitted and flying - but first, I have to sync them with your vambraces, or else you might-”
“Let me guess,” you sighed, relaxing back into your chair with a thump. “Or else I might blow something up?” Din nodded once in confirmation, and you mirrored him. “Some things never change.”
“And some things change all the time….”
“Well that was cryptic.”
“Fennec found a contact for me that might know where the Armorer is. Where the covert moved to.”
Your eyes went wide and you froze, halfway to attaching the jetpack between your shoulder blades. “Excuse me, what?”
“It’s a job, but I head there in two rotations-”
Your face fell flat, along with your tone. “Excuse me, what?”
“Are you broken?” You arched a brow in question at him. “You haven’t moved since I mentioned the Armorer and you’re repeating yourself.”
With a huff of disbelief, you let the jetpack to the ground beside you with a gentle thud, and faced him once again. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because you’re insane?!”
“Excuse me, what?”
“See?” You gestured to him. “A perfectly valid reaction.” Din huffed, his head tilting to the side in annoyance as you went on. “First off I was excited for you, but then you go and say something crazy like you’re going alone?”
“Well I just assumed….”
“Go on,” you deadpanned, smiling slightly when he trailed off, swallowing roughly.
When he never did, you sighed heavily and forged on for the both of you. “Since I’m your wife,” you began, eyes cast down to the sand, ignoring the way he tossed his head back with a groan, “I think it’s only right I go with you.” You looked up to meet his visor. “Not to mention I continue to save your skin daily.”
“One time. I….” He held up one finger. “That was. I let that slip one time with Peli and it was an accident.” He huffed, staring at you for a long moment. “You're never going to let me forget that are you?”
You grinned. “No.”
Xxx
The two of you landed at the front of Peli’s hangar when you saw an unknown droid approaching in the street from where you were training in the air.
“Oh! Pardon me!” The courier droid raised its hands up in surrender. 
Reaching out, you lowered Din’s blaster. “You have a problem,” you mumbled. “You need to ask questions first, shoot later.”
Din grunted. “That’s not how I work.”
“Well, maybe you need to upgrade your circuitry, Tin Can.”
Both Din and the courier looked at you.
“Beg your pardon, miss, but that is a Mandalorian, not a droi-”
You couldn’t help your snort of laughter. “What’s the message?”
“Oh. Yes.” The droid reached into a bag fastened to its hip. “You have a holo from a Greef Karga? It’s marked sensitive/eyes only. I suggest you watch it someplace private.” Leaning around to look behind you into the vacant hangar, the only other soul being R5 rolling past with an offensive blip, the droid then looked back at the two of you. “Or just stay here.”
Taking the device from the droid with a smile, you were surprised when it didn’t just leave.
It reached back into the satchel and procured another device. A puck. And handed it to Din.
“What’s this?” The Mandalorian asked dryly, looking at the small device in the droid's hand as if it were the most confusing puzzle in the galaxy.
“Courtesy of Greef Karga…. once again.” When Din made no effort to move, the droid looked between the two of you. “They go together. I assume they offer some explanation. Otherwise, I have nothing to tell you about them.”
Din sighed, taking the puck and shutting the hangar door before the droid could say another word.
A muffled, “Oh. Well, good day, then!” Came through before the retreat of mechanical footsteps was heard.
“That was rude!” You mumbled, turning to go deeper into the hangar, but freezing when you saw the info spinning above the puck in Din’s hand. 
No.
No it couldn’t be.
Quickly activating the comm, you let Karga explain what you already feared.
“If you’re playing this message, you’ve already opened the puck. Yes. I know. I was just as shocked, too.”
There, in letters as big as day was your name.
“It was issued by the head of some small town crime group on Tatooine. Said you decimated their numbers yesterday?”
Din grunted. “Nobody died. What do they mean decimated?”
“I’m not issuing the puck to anyone, but be on the lookout. It could make things…. Difficult.”
The comm went dead, and all you could do was stare at the puck in Din’s hand, the info being presented to you but truly not being absorbed as all you could do was watch and blink.
The puck displayed your picture, slowly spinning with all your details next to it. 
Name: Eesra Kesyk
Last known location: Tatooine
Known associates: Din Djarin, Boba Fett, Fennec Shand, Peli Motto, Sola Kei, Cara Dune, Greef Karga, Mythrol, Bo Katan Kryze, Ahsoka Tano, Luke Skywalker
Karga, Mythrol, Bo Katan, Luke, Ahsoka? For some small time group on Tatooine, they had really gone out of their way to find info on you….
Your gut sank. 
Unless….
You shook your head. There’s no way this went beyond a small town crime lord on a backwater planet. No way.
Focusing back in on the list, you squinted to read the fine print it was in to have everything fit on the little readout.
The rest was just details, date of birth, previous work…. reason for bounty.
“Are they serious?”
Unlawful use of star cruiser in restricted airspace, failure to comply with law enforcement, breaking and entering, damage to public property, battery and assault….
Din thought this was all very funny. He was practically giggling by now, snorts of laughter trickling out of his modulator as he stood to your right.
He’d tried to stop under your glare, he really did, but it just wasn’t possible, little snickers escaping here and there. 
“Who knew I married such a horrible person?”
He did this from time to time. Brought up his little misstep with Peli where he’d called you his wife, leaning fully into the absurdity and embracing the silliness you often tried to pelt at him mercilessly by saying it himself first.
Rolling your eyes, but unable to contain the small grin climbing up your face,  you looked back at the puck and crossed your arms firmly over your chest. “You knew what you were getting yourself into, Tin Can.” Tilting your head at the readout, you pursed your lips. “And we’re not actually married, no matter what you said to Peli. You’re not ready for all of this.” Making a swooping gesture to yourself, you ignored his mocking snort of amusement. 
You stared at the list for another loaded minute of silence before going on. “Besides, half of these aren’t even true!” Gesturing to the list with one hand, you turned to look up at his visor, brows raised. “Unlawful use of starcruiser…. When did we even leave the planet?”
He was still chuckling warmly as he turned to you. “Did I? Know what I was getting into, I mean? I don’t know about that, mesh’la.” His chuckle grew louder as your face fell into unamusement. “And are you sure? Only half?”
Turning to face him fully, you raised one hand to wag a finger in his face teasingly. “Hey, you’re the one that keeps coming back.”
Pulling you into his arms, he hummed contentedly. “And I always will come back to you.”
Copying his hum of satisfaction, you reached up and grabbed his cowl like always, tucking your face into the fabric and taking a deep breath before turning to the side to look at the holo once again with a sigh.
“They got my name wrong, though.”
“Did they?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Tucking your face into the crook of his neck, you smiled. “Eesra Djarin of Clan Mudhorn…. That’s so much better, don’t you think?”
He groaned softly. “I-”
Bleep!
Din grunted in mild annoyance as Bee rolled up the ramp, stopping beside the two of you and trilling animatedly. “Not now, Scrap.”
Bee let out as close to a matching grunt of displeasure a droid could make, flipped out the electrified arm on her front, and waved it at Din in warning. 
“See? This is why I don’t like droids,” Din grumbled.
Rolling forward bit by bit, backtracking just slightly in between, she pried her way into the small amount of space between the two of you, making you step back just slightly to make room.
“Well, hello there,” you mused quietly to the metallic dome whose lense was looking up at you, smiling back at the tiny bloop in greeting. “May I help you?”
She babbled away in Binary animatedly, charged hand still extended toward Din in warning as she rolled ever so slightly closer towards you, tilting forward just a bit and causing Din to grunt as the forward motion pushed the bottom of her housing into his shin guards with a ping.
“I’m sure R5 didn’t say all that. What are you getting at?”
More beeps and whistles, this time containing squeals as her lense switched between red and white rapidly, almost faster than her sounds, as she animatedly continued her story.
“Wow,” you finally said when the droid stopped, staring at you expectantly.
“What did she say?” Din tilted his head at you.
“No idea.” You looked up into his visor. “All I caught was something something BD said and then Peli, Jawas….”
Both of you started to chuckle softly, Bee looking between you as she rotated her dome back and forth, a bloop of disappointment before a raspberry of annoyance, and you couldn’t shake the growing grin on your face if you wanted to.
After a moment she reached out just a little further and zapped Din with the electrified arm, tittering a laugh as she rolled away at speed as Din chased after her after crying out in pain. “Ow! Get back here, you rolling scrap heap!”
Crossing your arms, you leaned against the opening of the ramp to the Crest, and watched the scene unfold in Peli’s hangar.
Droids, a mechanic, and a Mandalorian all running in circles after a goal you weren’t quite sure of. All that was clear was Din was losing.
You were home, with the people you loved.
Looking to the side, you saw the bunk of the Crest open, the child’s hammock still strung across the top. The corners of your mouth pulled slightly down.
Well, almost everyone.
You were a clan of three.
No, it was more than that.
You were also a family.
And someday, you’d all be back together again.
Someday soon.
You’d find a way to bring it all back to you.
Adjusting your weight slightly, you bumped something on your vambraces in the process causing the jetpack between your shoulder blades beginning to whir with an increasing hum. Flames began to sputter at its base with a growing roar, sending a wall of heat down the backs of your thighs as it prepared to lift you into the skies once again.
“Din?” You called, quietly at first, staring over your shoulder at the new death trap strapped to your spine, then more urgently, “Din!”
He was already jogging up the ramp toward you, his posture easy and relaxed. “Calm down.”
A quick glance behind him showed an amused Peli and her circus of droids, all of them tittering in amusement. Bee rocked back and forth in glee at the foot of the ramp before rolling back to the others. 
“Calm down?” You repeated in bewilderment, watching him disengage the jetpack from your vambrace with a single button push, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.
“Calm down?!” He began to chuckle, his hand skimming up the inside of your forearm to lightly grab your elbow and push you further into the ship as you went on. “I was almost a flying projectile and you-”
You hadn’t noticed the way he’d nudged you backwards completely out of sight of the rest of the hangar until your spine sealed along the bulkhead by the weapons locker, the lights of the cargo hold going to half brightness with a deft swipe of his hand over a control pad to your left. 
Half, but still plenty bright to see.
“Din?”
Taking in your new surroundings, you looked back up to see him taking his gloves off and tucking them in his belt. His helmet came next, the quiet hiss of the mechanism causing you to screw your eyes shut. The familiar sound of beskar thunking onto the metal floor of the Crest made them close even tighter.
Din chuckled softly, the unmodulated sound tickling your face with his warm breath. “Open your eyes, mesh’la.”
“Oh, yeah.” Slowly you blinked your eyes open, looking up to see warm brown eyes, and the sweetest smile waiting to meet you. “I still forget.”
Winding your hands up into the curls at the base of his head, you smirked when he let out a contented sigh through his nose. 
After a moment of simply holding the other’s gaze, you muttered quietly, “Hello, brown eyes.”
Din was on you in an instant, his groan of annoyance muffled against your lips as you laughed softly into the kiss. 
“You always have to ruin it,” he mumbled, crowding you further into the wall, his bare hands coming to cradle your face and making your eyes slip shut at the contact. “Nu-uh. Open your eyes, mesh’la.”
Fluttering them open, you tried very hard to keep them that way. “Sorry. It’s not every day a Mandalorian is half naked in front of me. I’ll try harder.”
“Half naked?” He tilted his head, the tip of his nose bumping against yours, one brow arching up in question. 
“For you, a helmet and gloves is the equivalent of a-”
Din was back on you again, this time growling in mock frustration against your lips as you laughed a bit louder. The upturn of his lips gave his amusement away, though.
Pulling apart just enough that only your foreheads rested against one another, the two of you held that moment together for quite a while. Simply breathing the other in, and existing in this quiet moment before the storm. 
Before you left to find more Mandalorians. 
More Mandalorians. 
Now that was going to be interesting. 
After a moment, you rolled your head to the side slightly and peeked up through your lashes to find his eyes closed.
You opened your mouth to speak, only for you both to speak in tandem, “Open your eyes.”
“I will if you will,” you were quick to retort.
Warm brown eyes met yours once again as the setting suns’ light poured in through the open ramp somewhere behind him, painting the cargo hold of the Crest in vibrant shades of gold, orange and red.
Din smiled softly, pressing his forehead further into yours, using his hands at your cheeks to maneuver your head back a bit and into a better angle for him to lean his forehead into. “Only for you.” His fingers began to move up and thread into your hair. “Always for you.” It was hard to tell where he stopped and you began. “Gar cuyi ner aliit. Ni kar'tayli darasuum gar. Gar cuyi ner mir'sheb bal gar utreekov kar'tayli darasuum gar, cyar’ika.” He pressed his forehead even further into yours, his lips ghosting over your own with each word. (“You are my family. I love you. You are my smartass, and your idiot loves you, darling.”)
“Gar cuyi ner yaim. Ner yaim'ol. Ner yaim'la.” The light of the day was fading, much the same as the two of you were melding into one another, practically becoming one being, all his hard edges blurring where your soft lines began. The Crest began to fill with long shadows as the lights in Peli’s hangar kicked on, filling the cargo hold with just enough extra light to see. (“You are my home. My homecoming. My comfortable.”)
Reaching up, you cupped his face in your hand, and he melted into it, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into your palm, his voice a low rumble. “Ni ratiin yaimpar gar.” (“I always return to you.”)
In the quiet moment, you rubbed your thumb over his cheek bone slowly back and forth before finally whispering with a smile, “Open your eyes.”
Once he was looking at you once again, you pulled your head back just a bit and tilted it to the side. “So, where are we going to find the covert?”
He went stiff. “We?”
You sighed, laying your head on his pauldron. “It’s been how long, and you still haven’t learned that I’m always going to come with you?”
Din looked at you with a matching sigh. He tilted his head at you, his weight shifted to one leg, his hands on your waist moving you along with him. “You sometimes stay here when I go out on a job and help Peli work on the ship. It’s almost done after what Gideon tried to do- er, it was until today.”
“Exactly. So after this last massacre, I don’t think Peli wants to see my face around here anymore,” you laughed, making him shake his head and let out a huff of laughter. “I think Boba would give us a lift to wherever.”
“And then how do we get back?”
You smiled as you closed the small space between you, speaking softer as the situation began to feel more delicate. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Why are your ideas usually half baked or somehow involve fire?”
You closed the distance between you yet again, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly, and pressing your forehead into his. “And yet they always work….”
“You get lucky sometimes,” he groused half heartedly before he returned the gesture, a warm ungloved hand spread across your back, the other moving up to the back of your head to tuck your face securely into the crook of his neck.
You weren’t about to pull away as he held you there gently. Turning your face towards him where it rested on his shoulder, your nose brushed against his neck, and his grip grew tighter. Glancing up towards his face, you thought back to a time in the bar when this all started when all you could see before the helmet obstructed your view was a small sliver of skin that bobbed as he swallowed roughly. 
Now you had an unobstructed view….
….Of unruly dark curls long overdue for a trim….
….Golden skin dusted with a light facial hair that had the slightest hint of grays peppered in….
….Kind, warm brown eyes that looked at you with so many promises….
….A nose that had definitely been broken once or twice….
….And a smile that took your breath away.
You turned your head up fully towards his face as you pulled away just enough to look at him straight on, and he turned his gaze down to meet you with a slightly playful tilt of his head like before.
“I’m just that good.” Your hands fell to rest on his chest plate. “Now let’s go find your people.”
“Let’s go find our people,” he corrected.
With a gentle nod, you pulled away slowly after a moment, turning towards the ramp with wide eyes as what just happened sunk in.
Our people.
Din walked past you, looking over his shoulder once he was on the ramp. “Are you coming?”
Our people. 
Turning your head slightly to the left, you saw he had stopped, helmet back on, gloves securely fastened, and every bit the Mandalorian you had met all those years ago, only now he stood waiting for you, hand outstretched in invitation.
Mine.
You smiled, walking forward and taking his hand. “Moff Gideon couldn’t keep me away.”
Xxx
Yes, I gave her a name. Eesra Kesyk. (Ee-sruh Keh-sick) Let’s face it, Mesh’la is still what’s going to be used 99.999999% of the time, and “you” the majority of the rest. But we’re going into a part of the story with a whole lot of other new players and I wanted to have something to call the reader besides “you” and nicknames. I know this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and I’m sorry. But, it’s my story, and that’s what I chose to do. I have a plan, so if you’ll bear with me, thank you, and I hope we can see it through together. ❤️ Plus, Din still just calls her *sigh* or “stop it!” 99% of the time, so…. 🤭
Xxx
Tags to come!
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anonymous-dentist · 2 years
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Did you know? If you go to the girls’ bathroom on the top floor of the old wing at sunset and turn all the lights off, and if you close your eyes and look into the mirror and say her name three times, Bloody Mary will appear behind you! If you manage to get a look at her before she disappears, she’ll grant a wish! You had better be careful, though, because she’ll snap your neck if you take too long! 
Isn’t that crazy?
-
Quackity considers himself a fairy well-rounded individual. He’s the student council vice president and the secretary of the Spanish club in his freshman year of high school. He’s a straight-A student, number four in his class, 33 ACT score as of when he took it three months ago. Former choir student, former band student, former drama student. Boyfriend is the student council president and the most powerful kid in school besides that mask-wearing freak on the debate team. He’s smart. He knows better than to believe any old rumor George might tell him, especially regarding the school’s so-called “Seven Spiritual Wonders”. 
And yet Quackity still finds himself sneaking into the old wing of the school after sunset when all the clubs are done for the day and the teachers worth their shit are either home or locked up in the staff room smoking weed with the Warden. He blew off a ride home from his boyfriend for this, which is probably gonna get him in huge trouble later when Schlatt decides to be angry about it, but that’s a problem for Future Quackity. Present Quackity has a mission. A stupid mission, but a mission nonetheless. 
Letting out a long, drawn-out sigh, Quackity squares himself in front of the grimy mirror and tries not to let his eyes linger on the bruises around his neck. He adjusts his collar instead, just in case. Who knows? Bloody Mary might be a prude. Maybe she won’t wanna snap someone’s neck that’s already been tainted. Who knows? 
He closes his eyes and says in the most level voice possible, “Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary.” 
For a moment, as expected, there’s nothing. Quackity lets his shoulders, drawn up to his ears, relax slightly as his neck is notably left intact. George said something about the ghost saying something or letting her presence be known, but... nothing. 
Chuckling under his breath, Quackity turns right on his heel and opens his eyes.
And then he promptly screams and skitters backwards, back slamming against the sharp porcelain edge of the sink, as he’s met with a faded, ghostly figure of a teenage boy floating approximately two feet in the air right in front of Quackity’s face. 
“What the fuck?” Quackity screeches, voice pitching in a nervous trill. Oh, fuck. 
The boy tilts his head, bangs flopping over one eye. “Huh. You did the ritual. What’s got you all freaked out?”
“You’re-” Quackity struggles to find the words, flapping one hand around in a vague pointing motion in front of his chest. “It wasn’t supposed to work! You’re a ghost!”
“Uh, yeah? What were you expecting, a living wish spirit? Please.” 
“‘Wish spirit’?” Quackity weakly echoes. He shakes his head, right, Bloody Mary. Ghost. Wish spirit. Whatever. What’s more important is- “Dude, you’re a guy.”
The boy looks amused by this, lips quirking up into a half-smile. “Uh, yeah?”
“You’re a guy. Aren’t you supposed to be Bloody Mary?”
“Oh, is that what they’re calling me these days?” the ghost asks, somewhat surprised. He sighs and rolls his eyes, arms crossing in front of his chest. “Rude. Rude! I do so much for this school, and they can’t even get my gender right? Ugh!”
Clearly annoyed, he huffs and fully turns upside-down in midair, legs crossed like he’s sitting in a chair. Jesus fucking Christ. This cannot be happening. 
Quackity still has an anxious tickle in his throat; he clears it with a cough that he hopes doesn’t come across as nervous-sounding as it is. (It does, he can tell by the way the ghost’s eyebrows shoot up in response, though the ghost doesn’t say anything about it. Judging. Silent. Judging. At least he’s quiet about it.)
“You’re a ghost,” Quackity says after a very long moment of silence. He nods to himself and looks down at the floor. There’s a dead roach. Neat. “Ghosts are real.”
“What, did you not think they were? You literally came up here and did a spirit-summoning ritual, dude, what the heck?” the ghost asks. He sounds amused. 
Quackity snaps his gaze up to glare at him. “I didn’t think it would work! I figured, hey, let’s try this! Last-ditch effort, dude, not everyone’s first instinct is to summon a fucking ghost when they’re stuck with a problem.”
The ghost shrugs, still upside-down. He’s... cute, in a corpe-y way. Not Quackity’s type. He’s older-looking, dressed in a private school uniform that looks like it’s from the 1980s at least, it looks so dated. His tie- bright purple and spattered with neon green squares in a garish pattern- dangles in front of his face, covering his nose and mouth. He looks like he’d be one of Wilbur’s weird art club kids. 
“Well, I’m here,” the ghost says. He slowly starts spinning back upright; Quackity can’t help but follow the movement with his eyes. “And you’re here, and you want a wish granted, is that it?”
“Uh, yeah,” Quackity says, kind of still caught up on the whole ghosts are real thing. George is going to flip if he finds out about this... “I do.”
“Luckily for you, I just so happen to be able to help with that. Within reason, of course, and you’ll have to pay me back...”
He suddenly swoops in closer, close enough for Quackity to see the flecks of red in his golden eyes. Quackity instinctively flinches, hands and arms moving to cover his chest. 
“Fuck, chill out!” Quackity snaps. “Personal space, man!”
“Oh,” the ghost hesitantly says, “sure. Right.”
He backs up just as suddenly, settling himself down on the floor as if he’s properly standing on it a couple of feet away. His uniform doesn’t look like it’s fitting right- it’s too loose on him. There are flecks of ash on the shoulders that Quackity can’t help but notice, mostly because the room is starting to smell like smoke. 
(In the year 1986, Quackity knows, most of the school burned down in a freak explosion in one of the chemistry labs. Wilbur won’t shut up about it.)
“I want my boyfriend to love me again,” Quackity says. It’s always good to get right to the point with this kind of thing. He tears his eyes away from the ghost and turns around to look at himself in the mirror instead. “He’s just so... distant. And weird. And- and weird. Mostly weird. You can fix that, right?”
“Uh, maybe? Not sure,” the ghost hums. He taps his chin thoughtfully, rocking back and forth on his heels. “For something like that, it’s probably something you can take care of yourself, right?”
Quackity thinks to the bruises on his neck and thinks, well, probably not. 
“Ah,” he eventually responds, “no. Trust me. This is a last resort. I’ve tried- I’ve tried everything. He just- ugh, whatever. I summoned you. You work for me, don’t you?”
“Uuuuuh, yeah, technically, but I am my own person, you know.” The ghost sniffs, nose upturned. “I can leave any time I like.”
Quackity rolls his eyes. “Right, whatever. Can you do it?”
“Like I said, I don’t know. I don’t usually actually-” The ghost claps his hands together, eyes wide, cutting himself off. “My name’s Karl! Hi! I should’ve started with that.”
He beams, teeth glimmering right out of a toothpaste commercial, and Quackity... doesn’t know what to think of the abrupt change in conversation. This just means the ghost- Karl?- doesn’t know what he’s doing, doesn’t it?
Still, Quackity hesitantly nods and turns back around to face him. “Riiiight. Well, Karl, it’s... nice to meet you? But can you-”
Karl claps his hands together again, cutting Quackity off this time. “It’s nice to meet you, too! What’s your name? Lemme guess, something cute, right? Liiiiike, lemme guess-”
‘Cute’? Ugh, gross. Quackity is taken, thank you very much, and he very much is not into dead dudes. 
He wrinkles his nose. “It’s Quackity, thanks. Now, can you please-”
“I knew it.” Karl nods sagely. “Cute name. Right. Well, Quackity, now we can get to work now that the pleasantries are out of the way.” 
Oh, was that the reason? Jesus, does this dude even know how to run a business meeting? 
Quackity is going to beat George’s ass for this. He will. He doesn’t care if George is a senior and his best friends are all buff dudes, he’s going to beat George’s ass for this. Not for leading him to the wish-granting ghost, no, but for not telling him that the wish-granting ghost is fucking annoying. 
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megagrind · 4 months
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One of these days when I finish my capstone and my animated pilot and get a job and become financially stable and get an ounce of free time I WILL sit write that thesis long essay I recite to myself before bed every night
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elvensorceress · 2 years
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WIP Wednesday!
I was tagged by the lovely and amazing 💕 @eddiediazisascorpio @imsupposedtobewritting @queerbitchdiaz @ekstasisandangst 💕
Here is more Love Spell magic AU. (This actually comes between the Opening Scene with Abuela and the Tarot Scene with the Diaz Parents that I posted last week.) And I guess a little warning that this snippet is basically Eddie/OMC because he’s like 16 and this is his first love whom he loses. 😭
Tagging 💗💚 @mansikkaomenabanaani @kitkatpancakestack @demieddie ​ @hearteyesdiaz @probieeddie @oatflatwhite @rogerzsteven @fiona-fififi @princessfbi 💗💚 if any of you all would like to play 
~*~*~
There’s someone in the living room who wants to see him and Eddie can mostly walk and stand on his own now without fainting or falling. It’s slow going but he manages this time and everyone leaves them alone. It’s fine. He’s fine. Until he sees who is waiting for him. 
He grips the edge of the sofa. His breath stops. His gut twists. His heart doesn’t beat. It’s dead. Extinguished. 
But there’s something in him that remembers feeling.
Nathaniel. Sweet, beautiful, funny, ridiculous, infuriating, terrifying Nathaniel. With golden brown hair and vibrant eyes and soft lips and warm arms. He’s in their living room. He’s here. He’s… 
It’s been weeks since the storm, but the reminders are still there. There’s faded bruising on his face and cuts that might’ve been held together with stitches once he was hospitalized. Doctors must have stopped all the bleeding. Were his ribs broken like the paramedics mentioned? His arm is in a sling and wrapped up to keep it stable. He’s gaunt and pale, damaged. 
But he still looks at Eddie like Eddie is something worth looking at. 
Even with the wounds, the way he was battered and broken, Nathaniel is still handsome. Fragile but brave and kind. Eddie is hollow and choking. 
“I know we said,” Nathaniel starts and then looks away. “Well, you said. Not to come here. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do this over the phone.” 
Eddie swallows. “That wasn’t what I said.” He didn’t. He just. Couldn’t. There was too much aching. No one can know. There’s nothing to know. They don’t know. They can’t know. No one knows. 
“I’m leaving. Now. Today.” Nathaniel breathes heavily, like it’s difficult to do so. “We’re moving. My mom says it isn’t safe here. For obvious reasons. We’re packed up and… I just wanted… I wanted to tell you. I wanted to say goodbye. In person.”
There’s something in Eddie’s chest like a hard, sharp jolt of a beat. “You’re…” Eddie can’t breathe. He can’t anything. He might be able to throw up though. Nathaniel can’t be leaving. He can’t be moving. He can’t be gone. 
Except. It’s already gone. It’s gone. Whatever was in his chest is lost forever. Eddie still can’t breathe. His voice sounds small, fragile, when it comes out, “Where are you going?” 
Nathaniel shrugs. “Don’t really know. Mom talked about Washington state, Oregon, maybe California. Someplace not here. If we leave now, we can get me enrolled in a new high school before junior year starts. That’s her plan.”
So. They’re moving more than a thousand miles away. Not across town or across the state. Not a quick drive away. He’d have to drive for days probably. To see him. But why would Nathaniel ever want to see him again? Eddie is an island. He’s stuck in a cold ocean. He’s too far away. He can’t reach. There’s a cage around his chest and there’s no air. 
“I’m sorry.” Nathaniel looks like he might cry. Like he probably has been crying. “I know we weren’t going to say anything. Not like high school promises last. I won’t pretend we’ll be able to keep in touch. Fuck. We’ll probably never see each other again, right?”
Right? Right. That was what they said. That some people were disillusioned and foolish enough to believe in romance, especially high school romance. What relationship ever lasted beyond graduation? People who were dumb enough to believe that teenage crushes and surges of newly discovered lust could become something lasting were only kidding themselves. 
Nathaniel said he agreed. Eddie just… it’s not love. Love isn’t real. Not now. Maybe not ever. 
It doesn’t matter if it’s real or not. It’s gone. It won’t happen to him. Everyone is safe. No one will be hurt because of him ever again. 
They’ll probably never see each other again. They’ll never see each other again? Never? 
“I…” Eddie tries to say. But doesn’t know what to say.
Nathaniel shrugs. “It’s fine. I know. It’s realistic. I just want you to know that I…” He glances around the house, maybe to see if they’re being watched. He lowers his voice to barely more than a whisper. “I do. I want you to know. It’s real for me. It always was. If I could take you with me, I would.”
There’s something like breath in his lungs, something like tears in his eyes, something like an ache within Eddie’s ribs. “You… you said…”
“Trying to play it cool. You know.” He tries to laugh, but it comes out watery. “Figured that’s what you wanted.”
What he wanted. What Eddie wanted is not this. “How? This was my fault. You almost… you could have been… <em>I did this to you.”</em>
“Hey.” Nathaniel shakes his head and steps forward, almost close enough to touch. They could touch. His hands are delicate. He’s gentle. He’s warm. He tastes like longing and sweet orange soda. “It’s not your fault people are bigoted assholes. You didn’t do anything.”
“I…” He did do something. He did something he shouldn’t have. He knew better. He knows better. He just. Wanted. He wanted so much. Too much. He wanted too much. But it’s gone now. It’s gone. He can’t want anymore. He won’t. 
“No, Eddie. It’s not your fault. I wouldn’t trade that kiss for anything.” He reaches but stops short, and never ends up touching. “Anyway. I just wanted you to know. I wanted to say goodbye. I’m never going to forget you. Thanks for making something here not fucking terrible. Don’t let anyone make you believe that you have to be fixed. Your heart is the best thing about you.” He steps back and goes to the front door and walks down the porch, the driveway, and to the car waiting out front packed full of two people’s whole lives. 
It’s over so quickly. He’s gone before Eddie can fully process what just happened. 
The sound of tires on gravel is loud. The dust from the car pulling away, driving off clouds the road for a good ten minutes. No matter how much Eddie thinks of that car turning around and coming back, it won’t. It’s gone. 
But it was gone before then, wasn’t it? Eddie already gave it up. He cursed away everything. He didn’t even hug him goodbye. He should have. Just one more. 
He can’t move his arms though. He’s gripping the back of the sofa too tightly. He can’t really make his legs work either. But they want to run after him. What just happened? How is this happening? 
The tears might be his own this time. The pain is different. It couldn’t come from anyone else. It’s loss and guilt and regret. He didn’t think Nathaniel loved him. How could he really love Eddie? It was stupid. It was foolish. Eddie is weak and fucked up. 
But he won’t be any more. It’s gone. There’s no such thing as a love spell, but there is definitely an anti-love spell. 
And Nathaniel is gone. It’s over. He’s gone. 
He’s gone. 
Eddie locks himself in his bedroom and sobs until there’s nothing left inside him. 
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todayisafridaynight · 11 months
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What’s the moment in Yakuza that made you go “I’m In.” As in the moment that made you obsessed.
there wasnt ever really one Singular moment that made me go 'ok im obsessed now', it just kinda gradually happened and now here we are almost a year later
#snap chats#it'll be a whole year on wednesday heugh heugh#i really couldnt tell you what it was tho. i guess after i beat y0?#because i remember beating y0 and thinking 'wow this was a great game i wanna see the rest' and wanting to play yk1#i was really depressed that week and i saw the rest of the series was Practically on sale so i was like 'fuck it why not'#that was a good day though. i was still pretty gloomy but it was nice just snacking on pizza i got and playing yk1#i felt like a proper kid for once. even though i was 20 ☠️ but i never got that exp growing up so w/e#god thats so weird though that was a year ago at this point... it doesnt even feel like its been a year#i started y0 years ago but stopped after lee died ☠️ i remember telling myself i really wanted to finish the game but it just didnt happen#well. now it has happened LMAO so glad i finally finished it#its always a coin flip whenever i get into series tbh#ill either love it and become wholly obsessed with it and make a blog for it#or i'll just love it quietly there really is no in between#i had a moment like that with Y7 tho. it was the second ichi started talkin bout dq </3#'snap i thought you said that was the moment you fell in love with ichi' ok and. it was both. loving ichi means loving y7#my initial reactions to y7 are soemthin ill always cherish like of course ive always been invested in the games and the plot#but y7 felt like the first time i was REALLY invested and i was eager to keep playing#not saying the other games /werent/ interesting ofc but like. with y7 it as just different#also because y7 was the first and only rgg game i showed my friend (we only got to chapter 2 before she just. stopped acting like i existed#plus before she went home we were driving to get sushi and i was just asking her how she felt bout the game so far#and yk she gave reasonable answers and even started theorizing (she was totally right about arakawa not actually trying to kill ichi)#but then we just sat in my car in silence for a sec before i was just like '..so what'd you think bout jo' because im Not Subtle#and she was really on my same bullshit wavelength immediately and we just spent the rest of the car ride talking about him LVKJAELKJ#i was so glad she ALSO 'Really Liked Him' frame one vVLKAV#its always funny whenever we find the same characters attractive like. it happened once in a blue moon cause our tastes are Just Different#but when we would agree it was the funniest shit we were such goons- I REMEMBER WE MADE A HOT-OR-NOT TIER LIST ONCE LVKJVKLA#we're so unserious about it because generally we just. Arent attracted to people that much so when it does happen Lmao#i miss it. i miss having a friend to play games with.. i miss having a friend to hang out with in general tbh i miss being silly (;´д`)#IVE RAMBLED ON SO LONG SORRY IM RUNNING OUT OF TAGS but yeah. there's That answer
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the-fabulous-51 · 11 months
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so sorry for the people here who wish for another fic for my 'weathers family farm' series/are wondering if I'm dead. finals may have killed my spirit but mostly my writers block is being caused by my brain being taken over by my OCs. they're not even paying rent (letting me write about them in a publishable way)
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prosebushpatch · 2 years
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alright everyone cross your fingers that this new manuscript isn’t more than like 3000 words longer than the last...
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thompsborn · 1 year
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head empty only homeward bound 💐
HEAD EMPTY ONLY HOMEWARD BOUND
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wheresmulder · 2 years
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Time it took me to read
The eye of the world: 1 week
The great hunt: 1 week
The dragon reborn: 1 week
The shadow rising: lmao idk man
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counselorssoapbox · 2 months
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Polishing the manuscript.
Polishing the manuscript,Photo courtesy of Pixabay.com Polishing the manuscript. By David Joel Miller, writer, blogger, and mental health professional. My journey from writing something to making it readable. It’s a long process with many steps to transform that finished manuscript into a book that’s published and available for purchase. Each one of these steps has a learning curve. I’m learning…
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#along with many of my coworkers#and editing software have improved dramatically. But#and even my first go around in a Community College#and general secretarial skills. It seems to have worked out well for her. Since my writing was not in my scope of duties where I was working#and having a happy life#and I want to get them down on paper as quickly as possible. I&039;ve learned that there are many other steps that need to happen after I h#and I will send her off to have a whole series of new adventures. This is a revised version of a post that originally appeared on 1/17/23. S#and maybe in the future#and mental health professional. My journey from writing something to making it readable. It&039;s a long process with many steps to transfo#and the features I could use yesterday have disappeared today. Over time#and then#blogger#but I could certainly learn a great deal more. Each one of these steps is a skill that takes time and effort to master#but it didn&039;t solve the whole problem#but the net result was that I#but with all the writing I do#each of them has had its problems. I know that some writing coaches advocate dictating as a way to speed up your word count. I have found th#especially when I was coming home from work and &quot;pounding the keys&quot; late into the evening trying to finish a blog post or a chapte#even by family and friends. One resource I do use is Grammarly. At the end of each blog post or when writing my novels after each chapter#finished first draft to turn it into something readable#got to wear those annoying wrist braces used to treat carpal tunnel syndrome. I made the shift to dictating. I&039;ve been using Dragon Spe#grammar checkers#having someone else type up my dictated manuscript was not feasible. I learned to type mainly by looking at the keys as I went. As we adapte#I correct all the errors. But if my protagonist speaks to another character#I correct the ones I want to correct and leave the ones I choose not to change. When writing dialogue#I learned enough of the features to make it work#I let them have their own voice and leave some of the slang expressions they might be using unchanged. You&039;d think I&039;d be done now#I open up Grammarly and quickly correct the most glaring errors. There are ways to set the features so that it detects some errors and not o#I try to give each character a different voice. Try is probably the keyword here. That means if the college professor is speaking#I was spending more and more time &quot;pounding the keys.&quot; I was able to work up quite a bit of speed writing that way
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Someone force me to work on this witch book so help me god I love these characters and yet cannot create their world because my brain won't produce the right chemicals.
I need to get to the culmination of the slowburn romance because I adore the relationship I want to give the MC and her endgame love interest, but the missing chemicals mean I can't even finish book one.
I want to write the complexity that is the initial love interest, and the equally complicated way she feels about him, but those damnable chemicals man.
I genuinely believe that someone asking to read what I've worked on like,,,once a week would get me back in the saddle better than anything else I have tried. To recreate the experience of all my friends arguing over who got to read the new chapter of my weird book in eighth grade. But nobody really has that interest, not even my boyfriend despite him saying he's interested. And it's so hard to have the drive to create when no one is listening. Passion can't make up for practically a decade long depressive episode.
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maybankiara · 7 months
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okay but i'm working on phone swap again and i had to read the full thing to remember all the details and man. the way i was squealing like i was 14 again, reading some cute shit. the way i woke up in the morning and my boyfriend was trying to get me out of bed but i was just like 'no i can't i have to keep reading it's so tense these characters just broke up' and he was like. okay. aren't you reading your own story. and i was like yes i am sir and that is precisely why i need to get back into it because holy shit phone swap is so good in some aspects and i just. i can't wait to start sharing it with the world again, whenever that may be
#phone swap series#d.writes#in all honesty though i do love phone swap and there were times when i had to put my phone down because the feelings got too intense#and some of the bits that i wrote years ago (because ps is 3 years old) resonate with my life rn too much#i planned addie's life before i lived out most of my own and it was like my life followed the events of addie's#even the first chapter i worked on since getting back to it this year resonates so intensely#and it's been planned since 2020#also it's quite interesting to see the creative progression of my writing style and quality#you can tell which parts were written when#although there is a drastic change between 2021 and 2022 whereas 2023 is similar to the previous year#which is partially why i'm procrastinating editing because i need to make the 2021 ones sound better to not be such a drastic difference#so i just keep writing new ones instead#i'm not making this official but my hope is to be able to update in the beginning of october#i've got over 20 prewritten chapters they just need to be edited so it's highly likely#i've also finally got some free time#and i want to finish ps before i get back to my novel which is hopefully for nanowrimo#but yeah!!! all things considered ps might be making a return if everything goes well#literally it gets so much better in the second half aka the one that hasn't been posted yet#and i know that i've probably lost the majority of the readers but if i wrote a whole ass novel without immediate gratification#then i don't need validation for ps either
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somerandomdudelmao · 5 months
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CASS! YOUR BRAIN! IT'S SO... HUGE!!!!Okay, okay. So, to recap what you have confirmed to us-
The robot that we see is NOT controlled by Donnie's spirit. We see that Donnie is able to control it via headset, etc.
Also, the reason this "Plan B" did NOT work is because Casey got possessed by Don's Hamato spirit in a memory from the future on accident.
It was going to work. He was literally mid-crawl before Casey swooped in and tried to help him but ended up somehow bringing his spirit into the past and cloning him a new body with plot serum.
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We don't know if this robot would have worked. We don't know if Donnie even had enough equipment to make a robot body like the one he made for Raph. Maybe it would have failed. Maybe everything would've been okay. I just don't know.
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But that's the beauty of this series. You planned this since you first decided how Donnie was going to die. Yes, you've said that you're kind of as clueless as we are at times when it comes to "what's next." But the amount of detail you put into this is ASTOUNDING!
Even with your VERY FIRST COMIC, you used Don's failed experiment with Leo and turned it into another chapter where we found out that Donnie was trying to find a cure for Mikey's peepawed body!!!
The fact that Donnie not only didn't say anything before he died because you knew that it "wasn't the end for him," but he also had a plan B that he didn't tell anybody about hence the guilty faces, the reasurrences, and ignoring Leo's "we don't need to worry" talks. And he couldn't simply tell them that "everything was gonna be okay" because his plan possibly wouldn't even work!!!
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AND THAT'S WHY HE HAD A BREAKDOWN WHEN HE LOOKED BACK AT ALL THE RECORDINGS OF THE RESISTANCE FAILING BECAUSE NOT ONLY IS HE WATCHING EVERYONE HE TRIED TO PROTECT WITH EVERYTHING HE HAD DIE BEFORE HIS EYES, BUT HE ALSO REALIZED THAT HE FAILED THEM AND LEFT THEM WITH NOTHING!!! HE FEELS SO USELESS AND GUILTY FOR SOMETHING HE HAD NO CONTROL OVER!!!!
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Even since we first met Raph, we got Don's theory about how storing spirits into mechs worked. He probably used the rest of their most valuable resources to even BUILD that thing.
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I don't know if when they all realize that Casey is actually the reason Mikey couldn't sense any of their spirits because he snatched them up and brought them to the past/different timeline that they're either gonna feel angry or like "Oh!....oh." You know?
It seems to me that they still don't know the answer to that question. With all of them back, I thought they would have by now, but I guess we'll see pretty soon.
A lot of things could happen in this chapter. Good things, bad things, it's quite a toss-up. Let's just hope this whole big misunderstanding comes to a big finish soon. Donnie deserves a comeback. Everyone deserves to have a breather where they can all just...talk. Cause' by GOD there is a lot to talk about. I know they had some downtime before Miwa showed up, but Donnie's still working. If Donnie doesn't finally open up to his family by the end of this, I'm bringing out the beach balls, I swear.
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punkshort · 1 month
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i know who you are | 4. the others
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Winter begins to wrap its arms around Jackson, filling the town with snow and a nasty flu. Joel takes you to meet Ben and Lisa, and you finally discover more about your past.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, amnesia, sad!joel, pining, sexual tension, slow burn, jealousy
WC: 9K
Series Masterlist
You looked happy.
Ever since you began working at the infirmary, you seemed happier. Like you were grateful to have a purpose. A way to contribute. To give back to the community that supported you.
You smiled more and you didn't shy away from him as much as you used to and it gave Joel hope. Every time you saw him and greeted him with a smile or said goodbye with a squeeze of his shoulder, it made his heart flutter. It's been weeks. Months, technically. But he was making some progress.
It was the first snowfall of the season and it put you in an even better mood than usual. Your face was pressed up against the window as he tended to the fire behind you, and you watched as the big, fluffy flakes of snow fell from the sky, coating Jackson in a perfect blanket of pure white.
"I didn't get much snow where I'm from," you told him over your shoulder. He knew that already, but he humored you.
"That so?"
"Mhmm. When I was a kid, though, we got hit with this freak storm. No one knew what to do. No one owned shovels or snow blowers or any of that, so we were all stuck inside our houses until the storm ended and everything melted," you said, turning away from the window so you could curl up on the couch, then pausing for a moment before tilting your head to the side. "Did I tell you this already?"
Yes, he thought, but he shook his head, eager for you to continue. He just loved hearing you talk, no matter what you said. Besides, if you were expected to rebuild your relationship, sharing your past would naturally be part of that, so he encouraged you to tell stories, even if he's heard them before.
"So, what happened?" he asked, putting the poker back in the stand and getting up with a groan, his knees cracking a bit before he settled in on the other end of the couch.
"Well, the power went out," you said, and he could hear the excitement in your voice, delighted to be telling him something you thought he didn't already know, and it made his heart swell. "So we didn't have any heat or any way to cook our food. We set up camping tents in the middle of our living room and slept in there with, like, five blankets each. And we lived off pop-tarts and granola bars and peanut butter sandwiches for two days til the power came back on."
"Two days?" Joel repeated, and you nodded.
"Yeah, but it was fun. As a kid, you know? I'm sure my parents were freaking out but me and Matty were excited. We played board games and ate by candlelight and told ghost stories," you said wistfully, your eyes looking miles away. "We talked about that for years," you finished softly, and Joel smiled.
"I didn't get much snow where I'm from, either," he told you, and your eyes met his again.
"Texas, right?" and he nodded. "Did you live there your whole life?"
Something deep inside him sparked with a mix of nerves and excitement. It felt like you were meeting all over again, and while it was under less than ideal circumstances, he couldn't help but feel those butterflies you feel when you first meet someone new.
"Yep, my whole life. Tommy, too, except for when he was in the army."
"Were you in the army?" you asked, but he quickly shook his head.
"Nah. Wasn't my scene. Besides, I had Sarah."
"Oh, right," you said, feeling stupid for asking. You dropped your attention to your hands, which were twisted in your lap, as you thought about your next question.
"How old was she?" you asked quietly, still looking down and avoiding his gaze, but you heard him take a deep breath.
"She was twelve when she died," he told you, his words hanging heavy in the air and he could see the conflict in your face as you tried to figure out a way to learn more about him without reopening old wounds. "It's okay, I don't mind talkin' 'bout her."
"Did we used to talk about her?" you asked him curiously, finally looking up to meet his gaze.
He shrugged. "Sometimes. But not at first. Still hurt too much back then, y'know?"
"Yeah," you breathed, your mind now drifting to thoughts of your own family. Were you together when they died? Did you see it? If so, was it some sort of sick twist of luck that you now couldn't remember?
"What was your favorite thing to do together?" you asked, watching as his eyes found a fixed point on the wall while he considered your question.
"My favorite thing was hiking. Hers was goin' to the movies or the mall, most likely," he said with a soft chuckle. "I didn't mind, though. I was just happy she still wanted to be seen with her old man at that age. Makes me wonder if she felt bad for me or somethin'."
You furrowed your brow, confused. "Why would she feel bad for you?"
He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "I didn't date much. Had a few poker buddies but I mostly spent my time with Tommy. Just worked so hard back then that I was too tired to do much else."
"And you were a contractor?" you asked, trying to remember the small pieces of information you picked up over the last two months. He nodded.
"Yeah, me and Tommy had our own business. That was a lifetime ago. Can't imagine doin' that kind of work now, not with my back," he said with a smile.
Joel's eyes flicked to the window over your shoulder, watching as the snow continued to come down, the window panes growing foggy in the corners. "Looks like we ain't goin' anywhere for a while," he said, changing the subject. You followed his gaze and nodded.
"What about Ellie? Is she okay back there?"
"Yeah, she'll be alright. She could make it up to the house if she got too cold," he assured you.
So, you were essentially snowed in. All alone.
You could feel his eyes on you as you watched the fire and you wondered if he was thinking about an alternate reality. One where you didn't have an accident. Where you remembered everything. One where you loved him the way he so obviously loved you, and what you might be doing differently in that very moment. You had a feeling your hunch was correct because he stretched his arm across the back of the couch and subtly inched a little closer towards you, the worn cushions dipping from his weight and causing your leg to bob.
Your body stiffened and your heart suddenly felt like it was being crushed in your throat. He was so patient, you had to give him credit. It couldn't be easy for him, and although you could finally admit to yourself that you found him attractive, you still didn't think you trusted him enough to take things any further. Not yet. Not when you still had so many questions. Your eyes drifted up to meet his and as you expected, he was watching you closely. Carefully. Trying to read you the same way you were trying to read him. The problem was, every time he looked at you that way, with his eyes all soft and filled with adoration, you could only think about what he was hiding. What did he lie about? And why was he so hesitant for you to meet Ben and Lisa?
Joel leaned in a fraction and his fingers tightened their hold on the back of the couch. He wanted to kiss you. He's wanted to kiss you ever since that day in the field right before that clicker ruined the moment. And with the soft glow from the fire and the snow falling silently outside, it felt like the perfect moment. He was terrified of making things worse after he finally felt like he made some progress, but it was killing him. He missed having you so fucking much, sometimes it felt like it actually caused him physical pain. Like his chest would explode one day.
He swallowed nervously and inched a little closer and you panicked. Just as he was about to say something, you cut him off.
"Do you wanna play a board game?"
He raised his eyebrows in surprise and you gave him a nervous smile.
"Sure," he replied, watching as you jumped off the couch to look through the games stacked on the bookcase. He groaned inwardly and rubbed his chin when you bent over and he had to force himself to look away before his body reacted, praying you didn't pick Twister.
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It took two days but the snow finally stopped. Ellie did eventually make her way to the house by the second day, simply because she was bored, so you helped Joel make a vegetable soup while Ellie set up the Monopoly board in the living room. You didn't have all the pieces, but you had enough, and what you didn't have you supplemented with buttons.
You didn't realize it; too caught up in cooking and the joy it used to bring you, but you and Joel worked together seamlessly in the kitchen. He chopped up zucchini while you diced onion and watched the pot on the stove that was cooking up noodles, slipping past each other to get to the sink and the cupboards and it all just felt so fucking normal that it made his chest ache. He wanted to draw your attention to it. He wanted to take you by the shoulders and say See? See how good we are together? But he didn't. He bit his tongue and bided his time until you came to that conclusion on your own, just like the first time.
But the first time was different. At least back then, you showed him affection. You kissed him and held him and shared your body with him and although you didn't want much more, not at first, eventually you did. And those moments in his bed were enough to hold him over until you opened your eyes and saw what was right in front of you.
He was selfish. He knew it was wrong to want you like that right now, but he wanted all of you, not just physically. He yearned to know what was going on behind your eyes, what you were thinking and feeling. What you thought of him. But if you would maybe just let yourself fall asleep in his arms on the couch while you read in front of the fire, or let him kiss you, just once, then maybe you would see it again. Feel it again.
"What the hell does a purple button mean?" you asked with a giggle, holding up the smooth, round plastic between your fingers.
"It's a hotel, duh!" Ellie said, grinning and rolling her eyes.
"Wait, why am I goin' to jail?"
"You rolled doubles three times in a row!" you told him, and you and Ellie bent over laughing at the confused expression on his face.
He made a disgruntled noise and moved his token to the corner of the board as he watched you and Ellie giggling and wiping tears from your eyes and fuck, it was nice. In another world, he would have made some joke about you being the one in handcuffs and maybe later he would have followed through with it and tied your wrists to the headboard, burying his face between your thighs until you couldn't take it anymore.
But instead, he just watched two of the people he loved most in the world have fun, the orange glow from the fire flickering over your smiling faces while the snow finally came to a stop outside.
Ellie had trekked back to the garage once the game was over. It was late, you looked tired, but he still suggested putting a movie on. He wasn't ready to let you go. He hated going to bed all alone. You seemed to consider his offer for a moment before you shook your head and yawned, and although he knew that would likely be your answer, he still felt his heart sink.
He walked you to your bedroom and as he was about to say goodnight, hoping to minimize the hurt by making it quick, you did something that surprised him. You pulled him into a hug, standing on your tiptoes, your chin resting on his shoulder with your arms wrapped around his neck, body pressed firmly against his and just as quickly as it happened, you pulled away. Joel was so stunned he wasn't sure he hugged you back, even though he stood cemented to the floor well after you went to bed, replaying the hug over and over, all he could remember was how he felt. And he went to bed that night with renewed hope blooming in his chest. Maybe you were finally coming around.
So the next morning when you asked him out of the blue if you could visit Ben and Lisa once the streets cleared of snow, he had a hard time finding a reason to say no. He should have known you wouldn't let it go, but he did hold out hope that maybe you moved on from the idea since it had been a few weeks when you last mentioned them.
He agreed, of course, not wanting to ruin the delicate foundation of your relationship. Besides, he already decided he would go with you and make sure they didn't tell you anything you weren't ready to hear.
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The snow had melted enough where the road was visible again, but the snowbanks still piled high around the buildings and houses and you felt strangely nervous as you followed Joel down the street. He had finally agreed to take you to meet Ben and Lisa, and while you were grateful he didn't have the reaction he had the first time you mentioned them, you still wondered what caused that outburst.
You tried to convince yourself that maybe he was just tired and cranky that day, having just gotten back from patrol for the fourth day in a row. But something still felt... off.
"Wow, when Ellie said they lived on the outskirts, she wasn't kidding," you said, realizing you were reaching an edge of Jackson you had yet to explore.
"Yeah, they tend to keep to themselves," he replied without further explanation. He didn't seem agitated, but he definitely wasn't happy about going to see them. He seemed more quiet and subdued than usual.
Finally, you arrived at a quaint looking cottage tucked back from the road a ways. Like Ellie had said, it was small, but it looked cozy. You could see the smoke pluming from the chimney and you couldn't wait to warm up again.
There was no porch. Just a small roof over the front door and a folding chair that looked like it had seen better days. He knocked firmly on the door and after a moment, you heard light shuffling on the other side.
The door cracked open and you were greeted by a short woman around your age with dull, brown hair and bright green eyes. She saw Joel first and, like most people in town, she hesitated. But then she noticed you next to him and her expression changed. A wide smile stretched across her face and she said your name softly, then held her arms out for a hug.
"It's so good to see you," she said in your ear, giving you a tight squeeze before turning around and ushering you both inside. "Come in, come in, it's freezing out there. Ben! You'll never guess who's here!"
You both stepped inside and as you were slipping off your outerwear, you glanced around the small space. It was tight, but it was filled with warmth. The living room had two small, mismatched loveseats on either side of the stone fireplace. Two large bookshelves that were filled with so many books that the shelves were sagging stood on either side of the fire, and curiously you didn't notice a television anywhere in the room.
You heard a man's deep voice behind you say your name and you jumped in surprise. Turning around, you were pulled into another hug by who you could only assume was Ben. He was tall - taller than Joel - and you wondered how on earth such a small house could fit such a large man. He stepped away, his dark eyes glittering with his hands still on your shoulders, taking in your appearance as if you haven't seen them in years.
Maybe you haven't.
You were so focused on absorbing every little detail about the house and its residents that you didn't notice Joel's body stiffen next to you, his eyes glued to Ben's hands. And while Lisa seemed to have the same reaction to Joel that everyone else in town did, Ben, on the other hand, did not seem phased by his presence. In fact, he appeared pleased to see him. Once he dropped his hands from your shoulders, he stretched out a lanky arm and shook Joel's hand, giving him a kind smile which Joel had a hard time returning.
"What a wonderful surprise. Come, let's sit. Do you want coffee or tea?" Ben asked, his eyes drifting between you and Joel. You both shook your heads and Ben smiled warmly at you once again. Even though the living room was just a few feet away from the front door, Ben still rested his hand on your shoulder and guided you to one of the loveseats as if you might lose your way, only dropping his hold on you when he sat down across from you on the other one.
Joel eased himself down on the couch beside you, the space so small that he had no choice but to rest his leg against yours, and Lisa went to join Ben, the crackling fire between both loveseats warming you up right away.
"We heard you had an accident. How are you feeling?" Lisa asked, her voice so small and gentle compared to Ben's booming baritone.
"Better, thanks. But it's kind of why I'm here," you said, glancing over at Joel nervously, but he was staring silently at Ben, who still seemed unaffected.
Lisa tilted her head to the side and wrapped a hand around Ben's forearm, leaning into him a bit as she got more comfortable on the couch. You noticed for the first time a basket on the floor next to her feet filled with different colored yarn and half knitted projects tucked inside. "Oh?" she asked, then it seemed to dawn on her. "Oh! Is it... is it true? Do you really have memory loss?"
When you nodded, you noticed the flicker of pity across both their faces as they exchanged a somber look.
"I can only remember my life before the outbreak. My mom, dad and brother. I don't even remember what happened or how they died or how I managed to survive," you began, feeling yourself growing a little emotional. Joel must have sensed it in your tone because he squeezed your knee reassuringly, and when you glanced over at him, he had finally torn his eyes away from Ben to look at you with concern.
"It's been hard," Joel said, finally speaking up, addressing Ben and Lisa. "Lots of confusion, lots of missin' pieces. But she kept a journal. Turns out, she wrote 'bout you two, so that's why we're here," he finished, narrowing his eyes a bit at them.
"You wrote about us? How sweet," Ben said cheerily, running a hand through his dark blonde curls.
"Yes, but-"
"It wasn't anythin' that detailed," Joel said quickly, and you frowned at him. He sat back into the sofa and glanced over at you. "Right?"
"Yeah," you said slowly, dragging your eyes away from Joel and back to your hosts. "Just that we went fishing and it felt like old times," you continued, and they both smiled at the memory. The only sound in the room was the fire next to you, the wood popping loudly under the flames as you weighed your next question. "So I was hoping you might help tell me about myself before we arrived in Jackson. Is that... okay?"
Lisa shifted in her seat, a small smile still twitching at her lips as she gazed up at Ben, waiting for him to reply. He hesitated a moment and you thought you saw his eyes flicker to Joel before responding.
"Of course," Ben said, slapping the tops of his thighs, jostling loose Lisa's grip on his arm. He quickly picked her hand back up and brought her knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss, but your eyes were drawn to the unfamiliar symbol tattooed on the inside of her wrist, only made visible when Ben picked up her arm and her sleeve hung down.
"Can you tell me about when we first met?" you asked, figuring you should start at the beginning.
"Oh, what was it? Six or eight months after the outbreak, yeah?" Ben wondered aloud, looking to Lisa to confirm. She nodded and scratched her neck.
"Sounds about right."
You allowed yourself to feel a glimmer of excitement. There were two people right in front of you that could help fill in the blanks for the first five years after the outbreak, and you couldn't wait to hear more.
"We met in the Atlanta QZ," he began, but you quickly stopped him.
"QZ?"
"Quarantine Zone. All the major cities had 'em. Was meant to keep people safe from infected but the military ran most of 'em into the ground," Joel explained. "Treated people like cattle. Strict curfews. Barely enough rations to survive."
"It was awful," Lisa added solemnly.
"Was I alone?" you asked them, and Ben nodded. "Did I tell you anything about my family? How they died?"
Their eyes shifted to Joel for a moment before looking at one another.
"I thought you had said the infected got your mom on the first day. But your dad and brother..." Ben trailed off, looking down at his hands sadly. "They got caught out after curfew. It happened before we got there. They... were punished."
You frowned a little, looking to Joel to help shed some light on what Ben meant, but he was staring down at his feet.
"Punished?" you squeaked as your heart began to pound faster in your chest.
"Punishment for bein' out after curfew was death," Joel spoke up softly next to you.
You looked at all three of them, your eyes wide in disbelief. "Death? The military were killing people?"
"It was horrible. It's why we escaped," Lisa replied with tears in her eyes.
"Okay, then what?" you pressed, trying not to dwell too long on the thought of your father and brother being murdered by the very people who were supposed to protect them.
"After we escaped?" Ben clarified, and you nodded. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze. "We survived. Did what we had to do."
There it was again. Did what we had to do. The same thing Joel said when you brought up Lisa and Ben the first time.
You waited for him to elaborate but when it became apparent Ben had finished talking, you pushed him further. "Like what? What does that mean?"
"We laid low. Found some secluded spots in the wilderness and stuck it out for as long as we could," Lisa said, her eyes casually drifting between the two men. You looked at Joel, who was holding a steady glare at Ben and Lisa, but otherwise he was perfectly silent.
"For five years we just laid low? In the woods? The three of us?" you asked, and they could tell you knew they weren't telling you the whole truth. "What aren't you telling me? Did we do something bad? Did something happen?"
Joel shifted in his seat next to you but you kept your eyes pinned on Lisa and Ben, trying to read the expressions on their faces.
Ben was the first to fold. He dragged his eyes up to meet yours and gave you a half smile and shrug. "Yeah. I mean, everyone did bad things one time or another. It's impossible not to-"
"Like what?" you demanded. You could feel your anger building up now. "I'm not a child. Just tell me."
Ben sighed and looked at Joel once again, and this time you had enough.
"Why do you keep looking at him?"
Ben's eyes snapped back to you and he forced out a small chuckle, trying in vain to diffuse the tension in the room.
"You're our guests, so I'm looking at you both."
You weren't going to argue with him when it was clear he was looking at Joel for direction on what to say. It all made sense now. No wonder Joel didn't fight you on coming to visit them. He had planned all along to control the conversation and keep you in the dark and something inside you snapped.
Standing up from the couch suddenly, you looked down at Ben and Lisa, anger brimming in your eyes.
"Thanks," you spat, heading towards the front door. "Sorry to bother you both."
"It's no bother," Lisa said, her voice wavering as she followed you to the door. "Really. Stop by any time, it was nice to see you."
You scoffed and resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you shoved your boots and coat back on, doing your best to finish before Joel so you could get a head start back home.
Flinging open the door without another word, you took a deep breath and stormed down the street, the chilly winter air filling your lungs, trying to cool your anger from the inside out. But then you heard Joel's heavy footsteps crunching in the snow, hurrying to catch up to you, and your rage peaked again.
"You alright?" he asked when he found his place back by your side.
"No, I'm not alright," you seethed, staring straight ahead with your arms wrapped around your middle. "What was that back there?"
"What'dya mean?"
You skidded to a stop and glared at him, his cheeks pink from the cold and his chest rising and falling a little quicker than usual.
"You know what I mean. I'm not stupid, Joel. What don't you want me to know?"
He stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out how to respond.
"I'm not-"
"Don't bullshit me!" you yelled, and when you remembered you were in the middle of the street, you lowered your voice. "They were clearly scared of you. You didn't want them to tell me something. It was so obvious, Joel! I hit my head but I'm not fucking blind."
"I didn't ask them to say or not say anythin'," he said truthfully.
You stared at one another, both watching as your exhale mixed together, little clouds swirling in between you before rising above your heads and disappearing, each waiting for the other to break first.
"Maybe I should move out," you finally said, voice filled with sadness. His face fell instantly.
"Why?"
"You know why. I don't think I can trust you. How can I, when I can't even get a simple answer out of you?" What did he lie about?
If you had stabbed him in the chest, it would have hurt less. His gaze fell to the ground and he felt his throat begin to constrict. He had to do something. He couldn't lose you. So he told you a half truth.
"You and Ben used to be a thing," he said, and your jaw dropped in surprise.
"What?"
He clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes. "Before you came to Jackson. You and him were a couple."
You looked away from him, taking a minute to wrap your mind around what he just told you. You supposed it would make sense. It would explain why Joel was so weird about bringing you to see them. Maybe you misread the tension in the room. Maybe the tension was about something else entirely.
"That's why you were acting so strange? That's why you were staring him down?" you asked. His answer was still difficult to believe. It explained Joel's behavior, but it didn't explain what bad things you had done and why nobody seemed willing to tell you what they were.
He shrugged and rubbed his hands together. "Can we talk about this at home? I'm freezin'," he said.
The walk afforded you more time to think now that you had this new piece of the puzzle. Ben did seem like your type: he was handsome and kind, but if you and Ben were together in the past, where did that leave Lisa? They were clearly an item now. Wouldn't that have made for a strange relationship between the three of you? Perhaps that's why you didn't see them often.
Joel let you stew in silence for the walk home, fucking praying what he told you would be enough to keep you from following through with your threat. Why did it feel like every time he made some progress with you, something happened that fucked everything up?
Maybe he should have just let them tell you the whole truth.
No, that would have been bad. You didn't trust him enough yet. You said it yourself. And if you were willing to move out over something like this, you certainly would never speak to him again if you knew the whole story.
He needed to earn your trust first but it was so fucking hard when you wouldn't let him in. When you found out the truth the first time, you were already months into a relationship with him. You were already sleeping together, and while it didn't evolve into anything more until later, it still helped build your trust in him when he finally told you the truth.
He didn't have that with you now, and for the first time he began to doubt his ability to make you fall in love with him again.
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You huddled in front of the fire after the long walk home, the two of you remaining silent the entire way. Joel was in the kitchen, most likely avoiding you and your questions while you warmed up. You weren't even going to bother bringing up the topic again, but Joel surprised you by doing it himself.
"I'm sorry. 'Bout earlier," he said from the entryway. You turned from the fire to look at him. He looked worried. His eyes were wide and his brow was knit while his hands fidgeted at his sides.
"Why didn't you just tell me?" you asked, and he sighed.
"Dunno. Guess I was hopin' you'd let it go or change your mind," he said, ticking his jaw to the side.
"What would it have even mattered? I don't remember him, I don't remember what we had together. I certainly don't have feelings for him," you told him, sitting down on the couch and tucking your legs underneath you.
He looked around the room nervously as you waited for an answer that wasn't coming.
You sighed and rubbed your eyes. "If this is going to work, you need to be honest with me-"
"I was scared, alright?" he said abruptly. You watched him hang his head between his shoulders and take a deep breath before collapsing into the arm chair next to the couch. "I was scared you'd maybe remember him or..." he trailed off, finding it difficult to put into words what he was thinking. And although it wasn't the whole truth, it still was the truth. He was afraid this version of you would want someone like Ben and not like him.
He was afraid of losing you.
You seemed to understand because you didn't ask him to finish his thought. Instead, since he was opening up, you asked him something else that was bothering you.
"What did I do?"
He looked at you curiously, not following at first until you continued.
"Ben said I did bad things. We all did bad things to survive. What did he mean?"
Joel swallowed and thought about his answer for a moment. You sighed, growing impatient.
"You can't keep the truth from me forever. I'll find out one day, just tell -"
"You killed people," he told you, and you completely lost your train of thought. You searched his face as all of the air rushed out of your lungs, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.
"I killed people?" you repeated, your voice barely a whisper, and he nodded slowly. You felt the tears begin to well up in your eyes but you blinked them away. What kind of monster did you become?
"Innocent people?"
"Depends on who you ask," he said right away, almost as if he expected that question.
"What does that mean?"
He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully as he stared into the fire. "I told you. Everyone did what they had to do in order to survive. I know it's hard for you to understand what it was like, but there were a lot of bad people out there. A lot of bad fuckin' people. The military was outta control. There were revolutions and raiders and slavers." He paused and sniffed a bit, continuing to stare into the flames while you hung on his every word. "When I say you killed people... it ain't black and white. I killed people, too. Alotta people. When the whole goddamn world ends and all you got left is one or two people you care 'bout, you'll do whatever you gotta do to protect 'em. D'you understand?" he asked, finally dragging his eyes up to look at you.
You blinked, thinking about what he said, his words rolling around your head like pinballs.
"I think so," you said quietly.
He nodded, still pinning you with his stare. "We all made decisions. We made choices based on what we knew at the time and we did our best."
You nodded, your voice wavering a bit when you asked "Am I a bad person, Joel?"
His eyebrows pinched together and he leaned forward in his chair, wanting to reach out to you, comfort you and pull you into his arms, but he refrained. "No, baby. You ain't a bad person," he told you softly.
And you weren't sure why, but you believed him.
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The streets were quiet as you slowly made your way to the infirmary. You didn't start your shift until late in the morning and you didn't feel like joining Ellie at the dining hall for breakfast, so you stayed home, only getting out of bed when you heard Joel leave for patrol. He had already warned you the night before that he would be back later than usual due to the storm. Trails would likely be difficult to pass and nobody could predict if there would be damage at any of the outposts, but it was highly likely.
You didn't move out like you had threatened to. You didn't even know what you were thinking when you said that. Where would you have gone? The garage with Ellie? You didn't know anybody else. Not really. But even if you had, you saw the look in Joel's face when you said those words and even though you were so fucking angry with him, you still felt terrible for causing him pain.
On one hand, it seemed like he was just looking out for you, but on the other, his actions often came off as selfish. You had every right to know your past and what you did, and you were growing sick of Joel treating you like a child. Like you were too fragile to understand.
But at least you got it out of him. Even though you had to take extreme measures, you finally got him to tell you something truthful, and that was a positive step forward.
Lost in your thoughts, you weren't even paying attention when a man's voice called your name from across the street. You looked up after the third try and were surprised to find Ben waving to you from the tailor. You raised your hand in greeting and made your way over to the building.
"Hey," you said a little sheepishly, "about the other day, I'm sorry for how I acted-"
He shook his head and gave you a reassuring smile. "No need to apologize. All of this has to be so confusing for you. We understand."
You dropped your gaze to the frozen ground and dug your boot into the snow. "Thank you, I appreciate that. It's very frustrating, actually. I'm just trying to learn about myself and what's happened in the past ten years and I guess I took out my anger on you guys."
He waved you off and leaned against the doorframe of the tailor. "Don't worry about it. We were just happy to see you again."
And even though Ben was absolving you of your guilt, you somehow felt even worse. He was being so nice and you hardly felt like you deserved it. "Joel explained it to me, by the way. After we left your house he told me about us," you said, waving your finger back and forth between you.
"Ah," Ben said with a knowing smile as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I wondered as much. It was a very long time ago but Joel can be..." Ben trailed off and scratched his chin, "he can be a little protective, I suppose. He never really understood the nature our relationship."
You tilted your head to the side. "What do you mean?"
"It was just casual. He always thought there was something more," Ben said, meeting your eye. "But I promise you, there wasn't. At the time, we were just lonely and scared and looking for comfort. Neither of us was looking for anything more than that."
You nodded thoughtfully. "He did say we were a couple," you said, and Ben chuckled softly.
"I wouldn't even call it that. Truly. There were no hurt feelings. We just never had a connection past... y'know," he said with a shrug. You felt yourself flush a bit at the words he left unspoken and looked away. "But I'm glad he told you."
"Yeah, me too. I know his heart is in the right place, I just wish he would have told me about us and all the shit we did before I came to see you. Probably would have made the visit a little more pleasant," you said with a laugh, but Ben's face fell.
"He told you about what we did?" he asked, his tone suddenly serious. You sighed and nodded.
"Yeah, he told me I've killed people. It's been really hard to wrap my head around, but I'm trying to come to terms with it. He explained the world we live in now is not like the one I remember."
Ben raised his eyebrows in surprise and unfolded his arms. "Wow. I'm kind of shocked he told you about us and the Fireflies. That must have been really hard for you both."
You frowned and searched his face. "Fireflies?"
His body stiffened and his face paled when he realized his mistake. "Yeah. He told you about the Fireflies, right?"
You shook your head. "What are the Fireflies?"
"Shit," he muttered, pushing himself off the wall abruptly and clearing his throat. "I should get back to work. Just please forget I said anything, okay?"
"Ben, wait," you tried, but he disappeared back inside the tailor, leaving you standing in front of the door while more questions piled up.
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There seemed to be a bad flu being spread around town because the infirmary was busier than usual. You were grateful for the distraction, especially after your conversation with Ben. You had spent the better part of the afternoon rushing from exam room to exam room, cleaning up after each patient as quickly as you could so Nick could continue treating the revolving door of people coughing and sneezing in the waiting room. Nick had recommended you wear a bandana around your mouth and nose to hopefully keep you healthy, but you had a feeling it would just be a matter of time before you caught the same bug as everyone else. Still, you kept the bandana tied around your neck as you worked diligently. What you didn't expect, however, was the bit of anonymity the mask afforded you.
You were cleaning up exam room six when you heard a woman's familiar voice in the room across the hall. Nick had left the door cracked open after he ushered her inside, and she apparently had another woman in there waiting with her as you started to pick up on hushed pieces of their conversation.
You didn't intend to eavesdrop, but curiosity got the best of you when you tried to place her voice, and when you realized it was Angie, your hands froze and your body stilled, doing your best to not make any noise so you could listen.
"... going down there almost every night... matter of time... him."
"But what about... freak out."
You frowned, inching closer to the door as you tried to fill in the gaps in their conversation.
Then you heard Angie say your name clear as day and your eyebrows shot up. You pressed your back against the wall and held your breath.
"She doesn't even like him. That relationship is a ticking time bomb."
You silently gasped when you realized they were most certainly talking about you and Joel.
It wasn't even true. You liked Joel. You were attracted to Joel. You were even starting to trust Joel a little more, although you definitely had plans to ask him about the Fireflies. But you were still getting to know him and it was taking time. Was this girl talking about trying to steal Joel away from you? The idea made your stomach turn and anger flare deep in your chest.
You shocked yourself with your reaction. Steal Joel away? Since when did you begin to feel some sense of ownership over him? Were you jealous?
You heard Nick's voice leaving an exam room a few doors down and you quickly made yourself look busy. He sighed tiredly in the hallway as he flipped through some papers before pushing open the door to Angie's room. You were changing the bedding on the mattress when you heard Nick call your name and you quickly dropped the sheets to cross the hall.
When your eyes locked with Angie's, giving her a hardened stare, you swore you saw a flicker of fear before she forced a fake smile and coughed into her fist while her friend, one you recognized from the bathroom at the Tipsy Bison, nervously shifted her weight and looked away. You felt a sick sense of satisfaction when it became clear to the two girls that you had heard everything they said, and you were grateful you had your mask on so they couldn't see the corners of your mouth twitch.
"Would you mind grabbing a bag of cough drops and a jar of menthol from the supply cabinet?" Nick asked, completely oblivious to the shift in the air.
"Sure thing," you told him, turning on your heel to leave and allowing yourself to finally smile.
Joel might scare the rest of the town, but you sure as hell scared the shit out of Angie.
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Your shift at the infirmary went longer than expected. By the time you arrived home, you were exhausted and the sun was almost setting. So far you weren't feeling sick, but from what you had overheard all day, the symptoms came on quick, so you had already decided to call it an early night and get some rest. When you swung open the front door and found Joel hunched over the kitchen table, your plans went flying out the window.
He looked like he was on death's door. You had never seen him look so run down and pale. He didn't even open his eyes to look at you, he just kept them shut while he rubbed his temples and tried to stifle a cough, his backpack abandoned at his feet.
"Joel?" you called, toeing off your boots and hurrying over to him. You crouched down on the floor and pressed the back of your hand against his forehead. "You're burning up."
He groaned and cracked open one eye. "Feel like shit. Dunno what happened."
"There's a bad virus spreading around, the infirmary was slammed today," you said, pushing yourself up onto your aching feet to get him a glass of water. "Drink this and I'll heat you up some soup," you told him before heading towards the stove.
"You don't gotta-"
"Drink," you said firmly, cutting him off. He winced before picking up the glass and forcing down the cool liquid. Once you got the gas going on the stove, you grabbed an empty bowl and shoved your boots back on. "I'll be right back," you told him. He sat up a little straighter in his chair, about to ask where you were going but you already disappeared through the front door, returning seconds later with the bowl filled with snow.
"Lean back," you instructed, placing the bowl on the table. He did as he was told and closed his eyes, the lights from the kitchen ceiling making his head ache but when you pressed a handful of packed snow against his forehead, he groaned with relief.
"Oh shit, that feels good," he whispered as you tried to ignore the twinge between your legs at his low tone. He released a shaky breath and you watched as the snow began to melt, little trails of water dripping from his hair and down his scruffy cheeks. When it was nearly melted, you took your hand away and dumped the remnants in the sink, grabbing a towel and drying your hands on the way back. You pinched his stubbly chin delicately in your fingers and tipped his head towards you while slowly and gently wiping away the water from his face. When you finished, your eyes found his already boring into you and you felt a tingle shoot down your spine.
"Better?"
His gaze softened as he continued to stare up at you, searching your face quietly, making your heart begin to beat faster in your chest. You swallowed nervously and forced yourself to look away, and it was then he finally realized you had asked him a question.
"Yes," he murmured, "thank you."
You dragged your eyes back to his and gave him a small smile. "More?"
He didn't trust himself to speak. He just slowly nodded and watched with heavy lidded eyes as you scooped up another handful of snow. With your free hand, you slid your fingers behind his neck and through his hair, cupping the back of his head in your small hand before pressing the snow gently against his forehead once again. And even though he wanted to keep looking at you, he couldn't stop his eyes from fluttering shut at the cooling sensation, earning you another deep groan from his throat and causing your breath to stutter.
He heard it and opened his eyes.
You stared at each other, lips parted as the air began to thicken with tension. His eyes flickered over your face, noticing the way your pupils appeared bigger as you gazed down at him. He took a risk and slowly brought his hand up to rest on your side, watching you carefully for any sign that he should stop. He pressed his fingertips lightly into your hip, the fabric of your shirt bunching up slightly from the pressure.
You dropped your eyes to his hand and blinked rapidly, then opened your mouth to speak when you heard sizzling at the stove. You whipped your head around just as his soup began to boil over the pot.
"Shit!" you yelped, dropping the half melted snow onto the towel and racing over to the range. You twisted the knob off and put the pot on one of the unused burners and the liquid immediately simmered back down. "Sorry," you said, refusing to look at him as you started to gather a bowl and spoon, embarrassment burning your cheeks.
"Don't be," he replied, still leaning back in his chair in the same position you left him. He watched you fumble nervously in the kitchen and he had to suppress a smile.
Maybe he still had a chance, after all.
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Joel's temperature was a little high but nothing too concerning, so you pushed the fluids and he ate all of his soup and it helped put your mind at ease. You really didn't want to have to ask for ibuprofen unless it was absolutely necessary, especially considering how the same virus was hitting almost every house at the same time. You made sure to check on Ellie from her doorway, not wanting to risk her catching anything since she appeared to be fine, before helping Joel up to bed.
Once you followed him into the room and he turned on the light next to his bed, you realized you hadn't actually ever entered his bedroom before. Sure, you've walked past it when the door was open and glanced inside, but you never really looked. As he gathered some fresh pajamas and began to unbutton his flannel, you turned your back to him to give him some privacy and examined his bookshelf. Your eyes drifted over the titles on the spines of a handful of books, most of which you hadn't heard of before noticing a framed photograph sharing a shelf with his books. It was faded and a little torn, but you could still make out their faces. It was Joel - a far younger version of Joel - with his arm around a beautiful little girl with dark hair and eyes and a stunning smile. You felt your throat tighten when you realized who it was, and if you had any doubt, Joel's voice piped up behind you.
"That's Sarah."
You heard him shuffling his bedding around so you figured he was dressed.
"She's beautiful, Joel," you said, walking over to his side of the bed and popping the thermometer under his tongue one more time. "It's wonderful that you were able to find a picture of her. I wish I had some pictures of my family," you said sadly, watching the hands of the clock on top of his bookshelf tick, counting down the seconds until you could check the thermometer. "I would have loved for you to at least see them. I think you would have gotten along with my brother really well. Maybe too well," you added with a soft laugh, not realizing he was silently hanging on your every word as you continued to stare at the clock. "He was always looking out for me. Always protecting me, trying to shield me and it drove me nuts when I was younger, but as time went on, I understood it a bit more."
You pulled the thermometer out and checked the number. "Still the same," you told him, resting it on his nightstand.
"How much time?" he asked, and you gave him a confused look. "How much time did it take 'til you started to understand?" he clarified, and you realized what he was really asking.
"I don't know," you replied honestly, sitting on the edge of his bed with a sigh. "But I'm starting to... understand," you said, giving him a sideways glance. You really wanted to ask him about the Fireflies but seeing how sick he was, you decided to bring it up another time. His hand slipped out from underneath the covers and gently squeezed your knee.
"That's good," he said softly before furrowing his brow and turning his head to cough loudly into his pillow. You winced at how bad it sounded and rubbed his upper back. When the coughing fit passed, you handed him his water and he took a grateful sip.
"Do you need anything else before I go to bed?"
"Could you stay here?" he found himself asking before he could even think. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise as you struggled to answer. "Just 'til I fall asleep?"
"Oh," you replied, looking awkwardly around his rather sparse room. "Sure, let me just go wash up," you said, standing up from his bed. You were dead on your feet from your shift at work and you knew the next day wouldn't be any better, but you felt bad saying no, so you changed your clothes and grabbed one of the books Joel had found for you before dragging the chair from the corner of his room to the side of his bed.
"You can stretch out over there," he told you, pointing weakly to the other side of the bed before coughing into his closed fist. "I won't bite."
You smiled as you settled into the chair. "I'm alright, thanks," you said, opening your book and leaning back, trying to get comfortable. After a few minutes of reading, you looked up just to find him still watching you. You laughed and said "you need to get some rest if you want to kick this thing," then he grinned and finally closed his eyes.
You may not have been in bed with him, but you were close enough to help him relax and for the first time in months, he fell fast asleep within minutes.
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