#they know the day Bats kills someone is the day the need to evacuate earth lmao

[ghost-bxrd]

Slightly dark/insane batfam who is overjoyed to have Jason back from death is one of my favorite aus ever. Like imagine Bruce being oh so proud of his son who ended entire gangs and built an empire in a matter of months before he even turned 19. Ofc he's gonna brag to this fellow JL members. His kid is just so driven and smart! Jason has no idea if they were always like this or if his death made them this way but he's not complaining (much).

Ooo that would be interesting!

Like, a Batman who still doesn’t kill and adheres to his moral code but has absolutely no problem if his kids turn murderous. He’s a proud and supportive dad either way, the only rule he has is that they keep it strictly to criminals and leave alone the regular civilians.

He went a little cuckoo when he lost Jason. As did Dick. (And Tim wasn’t sane either way lmao)

[mycellarose]

Love in the Dead

Chapter 2: Escape the Dead

The entrance to the roof was barricaded by tables. Rei hugged her legs and Takashi stared absentmindedly at Hisashi's body, thinking back to what happened a few minutes before.

Hisashi smiles sadly at Takashi. " Come on, Takashi, do it for me. I want to stay myself until the last moment." Takashi's grip on the baseball bat tightened while Rei yelled in the background. "Don't do it! He's not turning into one of them. Stop!"

Screaming, he ran towards Hisashi and smashed his head.

Takashi's eyes opened in fright. He didn't even realize he closed his eyes. Rei turned her head towards him. "What's the matter?" She asked.

"I was wondering what the hell is going on." He replied, still looking at his best friend's dead body.

"That's a straightforward answer." she whispered.

"What's the point of lying anyway." He scratched his head.

Rei smiled at him and stood up. "I think I'm going to call my dad." She held out her hand. "Let me use your cell phone."

He stared at his phone for a moment thinking about Maikoni then handed it to her. "I understand that he's a police officer, but we can't even connect 110."

She began to dial the number. "I know this secret number that he told me not to call unless it's an emergency." The phone rang for a few seconds then connected. "I got through. Dad?!"

On the other end Rei's father spoke. "Hello! This number is Takashi's?"

Rei held the phone with both hands. "Dad? Hey, Dad, we're at school and-" He father cut her off. "Takashi? You must have got this number from Rei. Is Rei okay?" The phone slowly began to break up. "Dad, can't you hear my voice?" Her father began to speak. "Listen carefully, the city is in a panic now! You need to get out of there!" Rei kept calling out to her dad but he couldn't hear her. A gunshot sounded in the background which made Rei and Takashi flinch. "You hear me! The city is already in panic mode! You need to evacuate as soon as possible!"

Before she could say anything the phone call was cut. In shock she pulled the phone from her ear and looked at it. "No service. But I just called him. Why? Why?!" Takashi called out to her. She turned her head towards him. He was shocked to see tears streaming down her face. "Takashi... my dad... he didn't know it was me at all."

Maikoni continued to walk down the hallway, dragging her bloody wooden sword. Her eyes glazed over as she thought back to the person she killed. Why did this have to happen? This was supposed to be a normal day. She was going to ask Takashi to go to the bookstore with her and get the new volume of Chrome Shelled Regios. She thought back to her talk with Takashi. When she asked him about the future. When she asked him what would happen if zombies roamed the earth. She didn't think it would really happen but here she is living through it.

The hallway was empty for the most part. Just dead students lying on the floor. Her ears picked up a bunch of groaning. Lifting her head she spotted a dozen of 'them' banging on the door of a classroom. Before she could turn around, to head the other way, she heard someone yelling no. Blue eyes slowly widened as she came to recognize the voice. "TAKAGI!" A few of 'them' turned when she yelled but Maikoni was already in front of them and striking their heads. Blood covered her face but she didn't care. Her main concern was getting to Takagi.

A nail flew past Takagi and into one of the zombies head. Hirano smiled sadistically. "Gotcha!" Takagi looked behind her in shock. "H-Hirano?"

Takashi and Rei grab the water hose. He turned to Rei. "Are you ready?" Rei, while holding the valve nodded. "Yeah!"

He pointed the hose towards the zombies trying to break the barricade. "Now turn it!" She began to turn the valve. The pressure of the water made Takashi slightly loose control. "Damn!" He tilted the hose, spraying the railing.

Shot after shot, each nail being shot was impaled into a head. "You see the drill and nails over there? Will you put them in a bag or something?" Takagi eyebrows twitched. She balled his fists and yelled at him. "What's your deal? You're a nobody to me. What makes you think you can order me around?"

Hirano turns to look at her. His face was the face of a deranged man having fun. She slightly jumped in shock. In a matter of milliseconds his attitude changed into a shy one. "Please?" Takagi looked at him in disbelief then slumped and looked at him in defeat. "Alright."

Maikoni slammed her wooden sword into another zombie's head, unaware of one sneaking behind her. She felt a hand on her arm. Her head turned to see who grabbed her. A pale, grey face was inches from her face. Her heart began to beat faster as her eyes widened. Was this it? Was she going to die here? Takashi appeared in her mind. Then Rei. Why was she here in the first place? She should have just ran and found a group to help her. Maybe if she did then she wouldn't have to fight or worry about surviving. Fight and survive. Use your fear as strength. Her family motto appeared in her head once more. Who was I fighting for? Why did I come here to fight? A certain pinkette appeared in her mind. Takagi. She was going to save Takagi. Her forgotten fire began to bloom inside. Takagi needs my help! As she raised her sword to strike the zombie paused and fell to the ground while releasing her arm. A nail was stuck in the zombie's head.

Her eyes fell onto the body in determination. This zombie no, her classmate's corpse was her resolve. She couldn't keep hesitating and cowering. She needed to protect the people she loved and never forget her family's motto. This moment marked her declaration to herself. Sparing one last glance at the corpse she turned and walked into the classroom. "Takagi?"

Hearing Takashi struggle with the hose, Rei ran out the room. "Takashi?" He managed to get it under control. "I'm okay!" He turned his head towards the zombies. "Having fun with all the groaning, huh? Must be nice to be you. Take this!" He turned the hose towards the barricade and sprayed the zombies, making them fall down the stairs. He laughed in victory.

Takagi looked towards the door once she heard her name. "Maikoni?" The brunette smiled and ran towards the pink haired girl and began to look her over. "Takagi! Are you okay? I heard you scream!"

Folding her arms, Takagi looked away from Maikoni in embarrassment. "Of course I'm okay. I made sure Hirano protected me." She stopped making sure Takagi was okay and turned her head towards said boy. She honestly had no idea who he was but he protected Takagi so he was okay. She walked towards him and bowed. "Thank you for protecting Takagi. I'm Hoshiyama Maikoni from class 2-A. It's nice to meet you."

Hirano stared at Maikoni. He heard of her from his classmates. She excelled in academics and sports. Most of the boys in his class had a crush on her and literally everyone admired her. She was always willing to help people study for a test or to pass the class. A slight blush appeared on his face at the sight of her. He then bowed. "You're welcome. I'm Hirano Kohta from class 2-B. It's nice to meet you as well."

Takagi looked between them then the bag in her hand. "Hey, what are you doing?" She walked towards the pair and handed the bag to Hirano. "Here you hold one too." Hirano looked at the bag then back at Takagi as she began to walk away. Maikoni followed after her. "Um, uh... Um, Takagi, can I ask you something?" Takagi paused at the door, making Maikoni stop as well. "What?" The megane looked towards the ground. "Why are you with me?"

Maikoni looked out the door and checked to see if the hallway was clear. "Why? No particular reason." He sighed. "Oh, I guessed so." He half chuckled then loaded the nail gun and walked out of the classroom, ready to shoot anything in his path. Takagi and Maikoni looked at him. "Hey, you're on the ball all of a sudden. Something click or what?"

A crazed look was back on the megane's face. " I'm not sure, but I guess it did!" Takagi saw 'them' walking their way. "Hirano!" He turned towards 'them' and raised his gun "Yes!" Maikoni walked calmly out of the classroom and patted Takagi's shoulder. She stood next to Hirano with a small smirk. "Hirano, I can trust you to watch my back right?" He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and nodded. A full smile appeared on her face before she ran towards 'them'. "Thanks!"

Rei and Takashi began to descend down the stairs. "I'm impressed that you thought of using the fire equipment." Rei smiled at him. "Because the water pressure in the hose is very strong, you know. Don't you remember? During the fire drill when we were in junior high, Hisashi and you got.." At the moment of his best friend's name, Takashi flinched. Rei noticed and stopped before looking away in sadness. Takashi looked ahead. "I won't forget it anymore." Rei continued down the steps and stopped next to him." I think it should be okay now."

He looked at her. "What's going on in there is beyond chaos. Are you sure about this?" She looked at him sternly and handed him his bat. He reached for his bat and accidentally bumped her hand. They looked at each other in shock. He reached again and grabbed it from her, then continued forward. "Let's go!" Rei retracted her hand back and looked away with a blush on her face, nodding. Takashi began running towards 'them' with Rei right behind him. He swung his bat at the zombie, hitting the head, then spun around to make room for Rei to counter with a stab in the stomach. The jab knocked the zombie into another one and made them both fall to the ground.

They continued to run down the stairs towards the hallway. "Where do we run to?" asked Rei. Takashi stopped and closed his eyes. He opened and turned towards her with a smile. "To my house. Let's meet up with the survivors. We'll try to get to my house, helping each other on the way. We're basically all from the same city. We should be able to make it there somehow." Rei looked at him and smiled. "Y-you're right! Now that I know my dad is okay..." She stopped herself. "Oh, we should call your house as soon as possible too. And Maikoni is probably scared by herself. We need to find her."

A silence engulfed them. They forgot about Maikoni. When everything happened Takashi only thought about Rei and Rei only thought about her, Takashi, and Hisashi surviving. It only recently dawned upon them that she could be dead. She could be one of 'them'. Unshed tears began to fill Rei's eyes. How could she forget about her? Maikoni was the one who tried to help and cheer her up when she got held back. She was always there for Rei no matter what and Rei wasn't there when she needed her the most.

Takashi thought back to the phone call. He thought back to a few hours when this all happened. It was Rei he thought about when it happened. It was Rei he wanted to protect and make sure was safe. Never once did Maikoni cross his mind. When Hisashi asked about her he didn't care, Rei was who mattered. But the moment he died Takashi decided to listen to Hisashi and call her. The way she answered the phone with no life in her voice was a shock considering her personality. He was concerned for her. Did something happen to her? He heard the panic in her voice when he answered her back. He wanted to comfort her but he couldn't, not when Rei needed him more. Her last line was what made him believe she lost hope. She didn't believe that they would find each other and she said she loved him. He still was unable to say it back. Did he love her? He was trying, he really was, but maybe not enough. He hoped they were able to meet soon.

Trying to not dwell on her, he smiled at Rei. "We can do that when we have time. My dad is out of town for work and my mom isn't home because she teaches at an elementary school. Besides, they can be annoying." Rei let out a small chuckled then covered her mouth to keep from laughing. "Hey, don't make me laugh at a time like this." She said and followed down the stairs after him.

Takashi was left to his thoughts once more. The truth is I didn't really mean that. I was honestly a little scared. Look at the condition of my school. And my mom is also working at... a school.

A wet towel hit the back of the zombie's head. The zombie continued to walk as if it didn't feel the towel. Takagi, Hirano, and Maikoni were hiding behind a pillar. Takagi dunked a towel into the water. "Wh..What are you doing." Asked Hirano. Takagi pulled the towel out of the water. "Just be quiet." She threw it at the lockers.

The zombie turned towards the noise and slammed himself into the locker. "You see that. They don't react when something hits their bodies. Their senses are dead. They only respond to sound. Most likely they can't see either. Otherwise, they wouldn't bump into the locker." Hirano looked at her. "What about heat?" He asked.

"I'm sure we'll get plenty of opportunities to find out." She got off the ground and swung the bag over her shoulder. "Let's go."

Hirano followed after her. "So, are we going outside?" She glared at him. "What are you talking about?" He looked away sheepishly. "Well, I hate walking." She turned towards him. "That's why a chubby geek is so... You can say that again when you're old enough to get a driver's license."

Maikoni, who was silently watching their interaction perked up at the sound of groaning. She turned towards the sound and narrowed her eyes at the sight of 'them'. Takagi looked towards Maikoni in confusion then to where she was looking. She flinched at the sight of 'them'. Hirano noticed them both acting out of character and also looked. By that time Maikoni was already smashing their heads. Down the hall from them were two people. One was the school nurse and the other was a third-year. They were talking about going to the faculty room when they heard the sound of shooting. Busujima Saeko and Marikawa Shizuka looked in the direction of the noise

Hirano kneeled to the floor and began to shoot at 'them'. Maikoni dodged some of the zombies and smashed the rest of their heads. Takagi stood behind Hirano. "How can we discover their characteristics like this?" The shoulder length haired boy yelled at her. "Please, Takagi, you fight them too!" She looked down at him in shock and anger. "Why do I have to do that?"

"The magazine is almost empty!" She began to yell at him. "So what?! Why don't you just reload it?!" He pointed behind her calmly. "But they're right behind you." She looked at him then turned to look behind her. Her scream resonated throughout the entire building. Saeko, Shizuka-sensei, Rei, and Takashi all stopped and looked in the direction of the scream then ran towards it. Takagi back up. "H-Hirano!" Maikoni looked towards the direction she left Takagi and Hirano and ran. Hirano tried to shoot but nothing came out. "The magazine is.."

Takagi slipped out the bag and fell. She looked up and gasped. "Get away! Get away!" Hirano yelled towards her. "Takagi!" She began to grab the trophies from behind her and throw them. A tall trophy hit the zombie in the face and broke on impact, not fazing him at all. He continued towards her and she looked around for a weapon.

Maikoni didn't realize how far she strayed from the two. Once she saw 'them' her mind went blank and only two things were left inside. Protect Takagi and Hirano. Turn fear into strength. The moment she heard Takagi's scream she ran back towards them. She hoped she wasn't too late to protect them.

Takagi eyes fell upon something inside the bag. She looked at it then at the zombie in fear. Grabbing the drill in the bag she put it in his mouth and started it. "Don't come!" Four people appeared in the door of the hallway. The witnessed Takagi drilling the zombies head. Takagi turned away, crying. "I can't take this anymore! Mom!"

Saeko, Rei and Takagi looked around. "Let me take care of the right." Saeko said. Takashi called out for Rei. She ran past him. "I'll hold the left." She spun and speared the broom handle through their head. Saeko looked at her slightly impressed. "Oh.." Takashi ran past her, jumped, and swung his bat down on the zombie's head. The zombie was knocked back into the wall. Saeko bashed two heads in with lighting speed. She held her wooden sword in a downwards pose with her hair shielding her left eye with a small smile. A zombie appeared behind Hirano. He turned around and tried to shoot it before he remembered he had no bullets. He closed his eyes ready to accept his fate when he felt the wind on his face. He opened his eyes slightly then they widened at the sight of Maikoni. She looked at him with a glazed over stare. Her eyes then turned to Takagi on the floor shaking and looking at the zombie she killed.

The long haired brunette's eyes softly as unshed tears pooled them. "Takagi!" She ran towards the girl wearing pigtails and hugged her. "I'm sorry, Takagi! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to leave you! Are you okay?" Takagi gripped the back of Maikoni's uniform shirt and buried her face in her breasts.

Behind them Hirano looked at Takagi in concern. He raised his arm and muttered her name before Rei ran past. Shizuka-sensei was the next person to run past him, but as she was she hit him with her breast and he fell down. Rei put her hand on Takagi's shoulder. "Are you okay, Takagi?" Takagi looked up at her. "Miyamoto.." Maikoni began to stoke the pinkette's hair.

Takashi walked towards the doors and locked them. Saeko followed after him. "You already know the school doctor Marikawa-sensei, right? I'm Busujima Saeko from class 3-A." He turned around to face her. "I'm Komuro Takashi from Class 2-B."

Rei turned her head to look at Saeko. "Busujima-san, I remember you won the national championship last year. I'm Miyamoto Rei, a member of the spear martial arts club."

Hirano rubbed the back of his head. "Oh, I..I'm Hirano Kohta from Class B." She smiled at them. "Nice to meet you." Hirano blushed at her with his mouth open.

Takagi turned her head away, while still in Maikoni's arms. Maikoni looked at her in concern before letting her go. Takagi stood up with her back to everyone. "Why are you guys being all squishy? Why are you being so polite to her, Miyamoto? You just repeated a grade so you guys are the same age." Rei looked at her in shock. "What are you talking about, Takagi?" Takashi asked.

She turned her head to them with an angry look on face. "Don't even try to male a fool out of me! I'm a genius, you know! Once I put my mind to it, I'm invincible! I am.. I am.." Maikoni glazed up at her from the floor. Takagi was becoming mentally unstable. She was afraid, shocked, angry, and confused all at the same time. She knew what that felt like.

Saeko placed her hand on Takagi's shoulder.. "That's enough. It's okay." Takagi looked at herself in the mirror. She had blood on her face and clothes along with unshed tears in her eyes. "Look how dirty it's gotten. I need to ask mom to take it to the cleaners." Takashi appeared behind her and Maikoni placed her hand on Takagi's other shoulder. Takagi turned and hugged Maikoni once more, burying her face in the brunette's chest. They slowly fell to the floor and Maikoni wrapped her arms around her. Takagi's sobs got louder and Maikoni began stroking her hair while pulling her closer. Everyone looked at the pair in sadness as the realization of today began to hit.

[onelastbreath-writes]

I’ll Meet You There (Part 3)

Pairing: Marcus Moreno/ Wife!Reader (AFAB, no y/n) 

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Talks about loss of spouse, loss of child, medical conditions/inaccuracies, grief/mourning, manipulation/brainwashing (subtext/implied, but we’ll get into it later *winkwink*)

Tags: Hurt/No comfort (for now), ANGST, eventual happy ending, one really sad man for whom I just keep making things worse, #sorrynotsorry, and now I’m just making stuff up as I go along

Summary(lite): You are Marcus’s wife, and you’re definitely not dead. No one is having a great time right now, but like hell if there's a force on this earth that’ll keep you apart forever. This is not a goodbye, its just a see you later. And the interim is going to be everyone else’s problem, you’ll make sure of it.

A/N: Hello dears, welcome back to my twisted mind story,,, guess who showed up like 2 weeks late with a smoothie! So things about this new chapter: I am a criminal with italics and someone needs to stop me, hello switching scenes and perspectives because I just want to fast forward to the good stuff but y’all don’t live in my head and don’t know all the stuff that happens to get us there so here we are taking the slow lane, and I keep brainstorming new and horrible things for my characters because I am A Lot, All The Time, and will not be stopped. Also hey, Marcus the Simp is here for you, so much. I hope this is acceptable to be a reader fic still, because I am giving you some serious personality traits... ehh, it is what it is. Tell me if you spot any of my various references, there’s a lot of ‘em. Thanks to everyone who has liked/reblogged/commented, y’all are gorgeous and I’m so grateful for the love <3 Drop me a message/ask if you want a secret about one of the characters (specify which one), I need an outlet for my endless b.t.s. plotting >;) Please enjoy p3!

AO3|Masterlist

[Previous Part]

---

There were more casseroles in his fridge that Marcus knew what to do with, and more sympathy and “thinking of you” cards stacked in piles around the house than he could count. He appreciated everyone’s gestures, but he could recognize the difference between people who were kind in the interest of helping others, and those who were kind only to help themselves. It was quite obvious which type were flooding his mailbox.

Hell, most of the people sending him cards, his fans, didn’t even know his wife, never spoke to her, didn’t feel the empty Her-shaped-space in their very souls. They just wanted the clout, the prestige, of being ‘involved’ and sympathetic to a grieving superhero. It was exhausting, but no one seemed to empathize with him on that.

The Heroics upper management, and the director specifically after his press conference and the publicity the attack had brought the organization, had insisted on Marcus taking an undetermined amount of leave from the team so he could “process and mourn his loss in the comfort of his own home.” Like he didn’t look around and see every piece of himself and his wife over the years; the Home they built for their family, filled with all the hopes and dreams of two starry eyed lovers ready to take on the world together. Like her absence wasn’t slowly killing him. 

And it wasn’t like she was gone gone.  

Dead.  

She wasn’t dead.

No way in Hell.  

Whether it was because she worked with superpowered people, her experience as a medical professional, or if she was just more paranoid than most, his wife was a planner, and she was prepared for this. “In the event of my death...," like she just knew it would be necessary.

Truthfully, she had schemes and contingencies and all manner of reactionary plans prepared for if (and when) the worst happened; terrified to be blindsided or caught unaware, unable to help those she would have been able to, if only if she had the time to think. Unpreparedness costs lives in both of their careers, and she refused to leave anything up to chance if possible. And so, she’d plan, and he’d listen.  

All throughout their relationship, from before they’d even gotten serious enough to discuss marriage, to when they heard their unborn child’s heartbeat for the first time, and just on random weekday afternoons when they would take Missy for walks around the neighbourhood to show her the beauty in their lives, his wife would paint her theories and ideas like artwork. She’d tell him a story, full of action and mystery, humour and theatrics, tragic romance and harrowing adventure; she could spin a tale like she had a silver tongue, but she never lost herself in her own narratives. In the end, they were messages, lessons, for him to remember when everything was going wrong.    

“It’s all about momentum, babe. Bleeding off energy and taking a bad hit instead of a fatal hit. You can’t just full stop; you’d absorb all the kinetic energy, and the resulting trauma will turn all your squishy internals into, like, body soup, which is just super unpleasant. And of course, head is always number one priority. Bracing for impact works better at giving you fewer serious injuries, especially for your neck and head. Muscles should absorb as much of the energy as possible, instead of letting it fall to your ligaments, discs, and nerves to take the force. So, tense up and roll in the case of a low air evacuation.”

Low air evac... she was concerned he was going to have to jump from an aircraft without a parachute at some point in his life. Which was probably accurate he’d admit, but still, he wasn’t hoping to actually need that plan.

Thankfully, it wasn’t always fire and brimstone with her, and she had many strange and terrible schemes to keep the common, everyday superhero family on their toes. Always carry at least two lip balms... never tell someone you don’t have plans for the evening... don’t smile in your mugshot... no clowns. Ever.

She was so weird, a total nerd, and so completely the girl of his dreams.  

He loved teasing her about her unending train of thought, the brain that never sleeps, how she’d go on tangents while on tangents but always circle back around; even nicknamed her (quite cheekily, and because it made them both laugh) Doctor Batman, which was usually saved for when she was being particularly dramatic and gloomy. Turn the supercomputer off for a second, Bats, come see what Missy’s doing!  

He was her anchor, always ready to pull her back to earth when she started drifting off too far from them, but he never asked and never wanted her to change. He adored her, silly or serious, or when she woke him up in the middle of the night to make him promise that he’d never get their kid(s) a pet owl (because they’re “scary”, and “our kids would be too powerful, Marcus. Promise me!”), or that in the event of them inviting a third to their bed, it would “absolutely never, ever, ever be Miracle. No way!”  

He thought it was quite entertaining most of the time, listening to her plan for zombies and old gods and what to do if everyone just started hating cheese one day, but if it was all so important to her: having him remember this or agree to that, he’d accede to her requests in a heartbeat. Most of it was cute, harmless stuff he didn’t think would even happen, but sometimes she would hit him with serious stuff. Entirely out of left field, she’d go for his heart, and ask him for things that would hurt him, destroy him inside, if he ever had to follow through with it.

“Marcus, if it’s a choice between my safety- my life, and Missy’s? I’m always going to choose her. Kids come first, okay?”  

She wasn’t superpowered, didn’t have a shred of anything other than pure, normal human in her, but she was easily the strongest person he knew. Fearless and brave, kinder than this world deserved, she’d do anything for the people she cared about. And she’d promised him, maybe as a way to repay him for all the things he’d agreed to over the years, that she’d move heavens and the earth to return to their family. That nothing in this world, or beyond, could keep her away. “Eventually,” she’d stared into his eyes, glossy with tears from how forcefully she believed, “I will find my way back to you. I swear it, so keep a weather eye on the horizon.” See? A whole-ass nerd, and he couldn’t have loved her more.

So, she wasn’t dead. Pure and simple. She was somewhere, somehow, and he was going to find her again.  

---

“Marcus, the grieving process is different for everyone, but it is always unpredictable and painful. You will have days where you will feel like you haven’t made any progress, or even lost the progress you’ve previously made, but please know that this is natural; it's something everyone experiences, and that it doesn’t mean you’ve failed in your objective. Healing takes time, and a major part of recovery is learning to forgive yourself when you slip up. No one expects you to be back to normal tomorrow, or next week, or next month. Healing from grief is not a race, so we will go at your own pace, and we will work together to accomplish your recovery goals. You aren’t alone in this journey, and you don’t need to handle everything by yourself.”

The grief specialist he was seeing was someone he would describe as an “old soul”. She exuded the patience and peace of someone who had watched empires rise and fall, seen the turning of the wheel of time and drifted along with the current. Her voice was deep, rich in emotion and empathy for those who needed guidance, calming and intriguing with a soft lilt on her vowels. Timeless and ancient all in one, and even if he wasn’t actually mourning the death of his wife, he did find himself deeply grieving being without her. They were two halves of a whole, and though his soul was at a loss without its partner here, he still had their greatest creation, their pride and joy, their baby girl to raise.  

He would do whatever he had to do to be the best parent he could for Missy. And so, if meeting with a physiatrist every week was something that would help, then he would be here, every week. He'd learn to live with his grief, his sadness and loneliness, with just the memory of his Everything, and he’d help their kid with all hers too.  

It’s what he promised to do, after all.

“If anything ever happens to me, you’ll just have to love her enough for the both of us.”  

---

There was nothing they could recover of the people closest to centre of the explosion. No remains, no blood, nothing. Like they hadn’t been there at all.  

Suspicious.

Upper Management had brought in a team of private investigators to handle the case, people who would keep the details quiet and the public appeased with what little information they’d choose to release.  

Marcus was a superhero, and sure, his job was to hit things until they weren’t a problem anymore, but he couldn’t understand why all the highly trained professionals didn’t question the sheer amount of evidence that just wasn’t adding up.  

He tried to bring up the inconsistencies once with the lead investigator, but they had just given the distraught, widowed husband, so lost in his own denial and grasping at straws, a sad smile and told him they would do everything they could to find the truth for him and the rest of the victims’ families.

Typical.

After being brushed off without a second thought, he decided to keep his ideas quiet, and since they’d proven their unwillingness to listen, he’d just have to solve the mass disappearance himself.  

“Have you ever thought about how to commit the perfect murder, mi amor? I have. First: If there’s no body, they can’t prove the person is dead. No evidence of death? No murder. Simple. But of course, completely vanishing a full human would be a challenge. Short of having the superpowers necessary to, like, erase someone from reality in their entirety, there would be a lot of chances to leave evidence. Ordering suspicious chemicals leaves a trail, driving out to a pig farm in the middle of the night is shady as hell and all neighbors are professional narcs, and fires? Hah! Do you have any idea how hot the fire needs to be to cremate human remains, and how long they would need to grill for? Huh, maybe the perfect murder isn’t a murder at all...  

Hey babe...  

Always doubt a body, but always doubt no body, more.”

---

You tended to lose time when there was no one else in your room. It was hard to tell when your eyes were open because you started dreaming about the only things you could see since you first woke up: drop-ceiling tiles, white walls, and pale blue curtain dividers. And it was easier that way, in the end. Your heart didn’t hurt when you only dreamt of the room. You couldn’t mourn the things and people only your soul could remember if you thought of the room. Drifting in and out of consciousness was how you were coping.  

---

You had been here, left in this room alone, for ages. You had agreed to help the man who had saved you from the explosion that killed your family, but apparently you couldn’t help him until you had recovered enough. You’d read your charts, grilled your nurses and doctors more and more the longer you were kept here. What were they all waiting for? There was nothing wrong with you except the mild post traumatic amnesia, and the whole not-remembering-much-(or anything, really)-about-your-personal-life-and-family-of-the-recent-few-years thing you had going on. It was nothing compared to when you first awoke and could remember nothing. It killed you to be without the memories of your husband and child, to know only of them instead of actually knowing them, but there was nothing you or the doctors here could do. The brain was a tricky thing, and you had to accept that your memory loss might be permanent.  

That just meant that you had to put all that you could remember to good use. You could help people here, and work towards getting justice for your family. Years and years of school, practical experience and training, you had gained it all back; re-read textbooks and studies, wrote papers on your re-emerging knowledge and jogged your memory about long nights and early mornings, surgeries and follow ups... it was all still in your head. It had returned to you easily, like diving into a cool pool on a hot summer day. It was like coming home and taking off your shoes; it felt good, freeing, as-it-should-be.  

But still they weren’t letting you leave. So: what were they waiting for?  

“Ah, Doctor, it’s lovely to see you, as always. How are we feeling today?” Okay, so the guy who “saved” you (read: paid the people who actually saved your life)  gave you the heebie-jeebies. He looked like a classic pompous asshole bigwig, like, oil tycoon or something. And he definitely had some sort of thing for you. Gross.

“I’m doing as well as can be expected, trapped in a room with nothing to do, you know, brain rotting, et cetera. Thanks for asking.” The sass was a choice, probably not a great choice, but your choice none-the-less. You really hadn’t had many opportunities to choose anything for yourself in a while.  

Well...

You were bored, and that was going to be everyone else’s problem.  

“Ah, well, good news then! You have been cleared from observation and you’ll be able to be discharged soon. Isn’t that just delightful!” Mister Craig (“Please, just Greg is fine”), was some sort of horrible group hallucination, you were convinced. No one was that cheery, that animated, unless they were on something, or you were on something. “I’ll have someone bring you your personal effects shortly, and then I can show you to your new apartment. The complex isn’t in the best neighbourhood unfortunately, but it's got some real charm, very vintage! You’ll love it!”

“I’ll look forward to seeing it then; sounds like it’ll be a real interesting place to stay. You can also explain what it is I’m going to be doing with your organization. Because you haven’t specified yet. And I expect a proper contract and wage agreement. Legally binding preferably, for your sake, of course, Mr. Craig.” Even if you weren’t the most physically intimidating person around, you knew how, and more so, when, to assert your dominance in a conversation. Especially with men like him. He was the type of guy who would pinch a nurse’s ass and then accuse them of not being able to take a joke.  

“You wound me, Doctor, I am a man of integrity! I promised you an opportunity to make a difference! To get justice for the loved ones so cruelly torn from you! You have nothing to worry about!”  

Sounds legit. Totally above board. Can’t wait.

---

Taglist (omg!! thanks love): @killtherandomness​

Drop me a line if you want to be added <3

[tw-anchor]

34. Guardians

Anchor

Stiles Stilinski x Original Character

Episode: 3x10; The Overlooked

Word Count: 6,474

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, kidnapping, major injuries

Author’s Note: We’re gonna be seeing Olivia use her powers in battle! I hope you enjoy! Make sure to reblog, like, and tell me what you think!

Masterlist in Pinned Post!

Derek took one look at the bruising around Olivia's neck as she walked into his loft and ran over to her. "What happened to you?" he demanded, his eyes darting to Stiles and Scott and then back to her. He tilted her chin up in order to get a better look at the dark bruise on her neck. "Who did this?

"It was Jennifer," Scott told him. "She's the darach, she's the one killing people."

"And she took my dad," Stiles added angrily. "Yeah, and that was after she tried to kill Livvy and Lydia."

Derek's eyes widened only slightly as he looked back at Olivia. "Is it true?"

"It is," Olivia confirmed, her voice hoarse from the damage done to her neck.

Derek shook his head angrily and then sighed when Olivia winced in pain. He placed his hand on her cheek; Olivia stiffened as she felt some of the pain around her bruise disappear, and then saw it darken Derek's veins as he absorbed it.

"Thanks."

"I'm sorry, Ollie," he pulled her into a hug; he looked over her head at Stiles and added, "Sorry about your dad. Now that we know that Jennifer is the darach, we have to start planning."

"We sorta already came up with one," Stiles crossed his arms over his chest. "We figured that she would come to you and try to give you some story about tonight. The three of us will hide and when we come out, Scott will throw mistletoe on her and—"

"And we kill her," Derek finished.

"No," Scott said pointedly. "We'll tie her up or something. We need to know where Noah is."

Derek reluctantly agreed. Not long after, he and Scott heard Jennifer making her way up to the loft. Olivia, Stiles, and Scott hid behind the freestanding wall with a huge hole in it just as the loft door slid open.

"Derek?" Jennifer called, stepping into the loft. "Derek, where are you?"

"Right here," Derek walked out of the kitchen where he had hidden to be inconspicuous.

"Thank God," Jennifer sighed heavily and ran over to Derek, wrapping her arms around him. "Something happened at the recital. At the school..."

Yeah, you tried to kill me and my cousin, bitch, Olivia snarled in her head.

"...Okay, I need to tell you before you hear it," Jennifer separated from Derek to look him in the eyes. "before you hear any of it from them."

Olivia could feel Derek's tether starting to pulse angrily, trying to stay in control. She had to give her cousin props, though. He was focusing on his anger, like he usually did, and took control over it. In fact, his face didn't slip from 'concerned boyfriend' at all.

"From who?"

"Scott, Stiles, Olivia," Jennifer listed, and there's where she made her first mistake; she shouldn't have mentioned Olivia at all. Olivia had to fight to keep Derek in control, closing her eyes to concentrate. "They're gonna tell you things. Things you can't believe. You have to trust me, okay? You trust me."

Jennifer must have been more stupid than she looked. Why on earth would Derek trust her, someone he only met a month ago, over his own family. He wholeheartedly trusted Olivia—and even Stiles and Scott—and he saw the fucking bruise on Olivia's neck. Why would they lie about any of that?

Derek swallowed down his anger, his control much higher now that Olivia was helping him. "What is it?"

"Promise you'll listen to me."

"I promise."

Olivia grimaced as Jennifer smashed her lips against Derek's. The kiss didn't last long before Jennifer pulled away, looking at him suspiciously. Derek must not have responded to her kiss, which Olivia respected him greatly for.

"They're already here, aren't they?" she asked him darkly; Derek looked over to Olivia, Stiles, and Scott as they walked out of their hiding place. "So, they told you it was me? That I'm the one taking people?"

"We told him you're the one killing people," Scott spoke up, his voice firm.

"Oh, that's right," Jennifer chuckled mockingly. "Committing human sacrifices? What, cutting their throats? Yeah, I probably do it on my lunch hour. That way, I can get back to teaching high school English the rest of the day. That makes perfect sense."

"Where's my dad?" Stiles asked her, so angry and worried about his dad's kidnapping that he had tears in his eyes.

"How should I know?" Jennifer glared at Stiles before looking back at Derek. "Derek, tell me you don't believe this."

Olivia scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You're honestly the biggest idiot I've come across if you think that Derek would believe you over his family, his pack," she sneered angrily. "Where is Stiles' dad?"

Jennifer didn't even turn to Olivia while she spoke, staring up at Derek instead.

"Do you know what happened to Stiles' father?" Derek repeated Olivia's question.

"No," Jennifer answered firmly.

"Why'd you try to kill Olivia and Lydia?"

"This Olivia?" Jennifer pointed a thumb back at Olivia. "and Lydia Martin? I don't know anything about that."

"What other Olivia would I be talking about?" Derek raised his voice. "What do you know?"

"I know that these kids, for whatever misguided reason, are filling your head with an absurd story," Jennifer told him while glowering back at Olivia, Stiles, and Scott. "And one they can't prove, by the way."

Stiles angrily lunged toward her but at the last second, Olivia caught his arm, holding him back—which was very difficult because he was stronger than her. She did want to see Stiles rip Jennifer apart, but logically she knew it wouldn't be possible. Jennifer had already demonstrated her powers at the school and she had won.

"Other than bruise from the garrote you used to try to kill me, we have other proof," Olivia glared daggers at her, all the while trying to calm Stiles down. "Scott, show her."

Scott held up the large vial of powdered mistletoe that he got from Dr. Deaton. Jennifer faltered. "What is that?"

"My boss told me it's a poison and a cure," Scott explained while unscrewing the cap. "which means you can use it and it can be used against you."

Jennifer narrowed her eyes and snarled, "Mistletoe?"

Scott shoved the jar throwing, throwing out its contents. The mistletoe flew through the air, and it seemed like it was drawn to Jennifer because it mystically headed straight for her. Not a speckle of it hit the floor. Jennifer grunted and groaned at the affect the mistletoe had on her; her pretty face turned into something grotesque and scarred, like the Phantom of the Opera but much, much worse. Her groan turned into a high-pitched snarl before the mistletoe wore off and she turned back to her normal appearance.

She went to run, but Derek was faster than her. His claws appeared as he grabbed her by the neck and raised her in the air, her feet more than a foot off the floor.

"Derek, wait, wait!" she begged. "You need me!"

"What are you?" Derek's voice came out as a growl.

"The only person who can save your sister," she choked out; Olivia stiffened, wondering what she was going on about. What did Cora have to do with this? She had been injured by Aiden. "Call Peter. Call him!"

"Derek," Olivia called his name; when he looked over at her, she nodded. He couldn't kill Jennifer anyway, not when Sheriff Stilinski was out there and they had no clue where he was. "I'll call him."

Derek nodded back at her while she took out her phone and called Peter. He picked up the call quickly. "Hey, how's Cora?"

"Not good," Peter reported worriedly. "She's in and out of consciousness. She's vomiting up black blood, along with one other alarming substance..."

"Mistletoe," she assumed, glaring over at Jennifer.

"How did you know that?"

Olivia didn't answer; she hung up the call and watched as Derek, who had heard every word of the call, started squeezing Jennifer's throat. They could audibly hear the bones starting to crack.

"Derek, Derek, what are you doing?" Scott asked frantically.

"Her life," Jennifer gasped for breath. "it's in my hands."

Derek raised her higher into the air, causing Stiles to yell, "Stop, Derek, stop!"

"Stilinski, you'll never find him."

Although Olivia would love nothing more to see Derek kill Jennifer, they had to put a stop to it. Cora was sick, almost on the brink of death, and Noah was missing. "Derek, stop," she hurried over to her cousin and grabbed his free arm. "You can't kill her."

Derek snarled at Jennifer and let go of her, throwing her onto the floor.

"That's right," Jennifer said tauntingly, not even taking the opportunity to get her breathing back to normal. "You need me. All of you."

Bitch, Olivia thought before she stormed over to Jennifer. She formed a fist, reared her arm back, and swiftly brought it forward, decking Jennifer in the cheek. Surprisingly, the hit was strong enough that Jennifer's back hit the floor and a red mark appeared on her cheek.

"Shut. Up."

-

"You know, something feels wrong about this," Stiles mused quietly to Olivia and Scott as he pulled the Jeep into the hospital's parking lot. "We proved it to Derek but she still had this look like it didn't matter. You know, like it was all still going according to plan. You guys saw it, didn't you?"

Scott nodded at him while Olivia spoke up from the backseat, "Yeah, I did."

The hospital was pretty much evacuated due to the storm, so there were hardly any cars in the lot. Stiles drove up straight to the emergency entrance and parked behind Derek, who was under the overhang. The three of them got out and were immediately soaked by the downpour of rain. While Olivia and Scott hurried to the doors, Stiles grabbed something from the back of the Jeep and ran to catch up to him.

Scott eyed the bat in his hands. "What's that?"

"Well, you got claws, I got a bat!"

"What do I have?" Olivia asked him as they entered the hospital.

"You have me," at his words, Olivia shook her head fondly and nudged him with her elbow, earning herself a nudge back.

The three of them followed Derek, who had a tight grip on Jennifer, through the lobby of the emergency department. There were nurses scurrying around, packing up files and anything important for their patients to take with them to the hospital helping them out, and the last of patients' visitors leaving. They were just about to turn down the hallway and head to Cora's assigned room when Melissa ran into them.

"Scott, what are you doing here?" she asked her son worriedly. "The hospital's evacuating."

"We're here for Cora."

At Scott's answer, Melissa eyed Stiles, Olivia, Derek, and Jennifer. "What, all of you?" she paused when she saw what Stiles was holding. "Why does Stiles have my bat?"

While Stiles glanced awkwardly at the bat, Scott got his mom's attention. "Mom, just trust me on this. You need to get out of here, right now."

Melissa took a beat, realizing that something more serious than a storm was going on. "The building is supposed to be clear in thirty minutes," she told them somberly. "We've got two ambulances that are coming back. One's ten minutes out, the other's twenty. Cora needs to be on one of those. They'll be picking up in the basement garage."

Scott nodded. "Got it."

He joined the others once again and they kept walking. They made their way down the hallway and entered the elevator to head to the third floor.

"You don't have to keep me on a leash, Derek," Jennifer spoke up once the elevator doors closed. "I'm going to help."

No one spoke. Jennifer turned her head and glanced at Scott, who was giving her the evil eye, and then to Stiles, who was holding his bat threateningly while glowering at her. She rolled her eyes and faced the doors again.

The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and they walked out onto the third floor. Cora's room was the first on the right, but there was no one in there. All there was a large spot of black blood with mistletoe that Cora must have thrown up. There was little dribbles of blood, though, that trailed out of the room and down the hallway, stopping at a set of double doors.

They weren't able to take a step before they heard grunting. Then, out of nowhere, it seemed, Peter came flying head-first through the doorway, landing with a painful groan at their feet. "We got a problem," he told them, lifting his head to look down the hallway where he had come from. "Big problem."

Down the hallway, Ethan and Aiden had formed into Voltron-Wolf. They growled angrily at them and flexed their arms, showing off their combined form. Derek and Scott's wolf features popped out on command. Derek was the first one to move, growling as he raced toward the twins.

He smashed into them, head ducked down so he could hit their torso, but the twins slammed one of their elbows into his back. Derek hurriedly got out and rose to his full height, hitting a blow to their face. The twins didn't like that; they grabbed him from around the neck and started punching him in the head, over and over.

Scott took the twins' distraction as an opportunity to attack. He roared as he raced toward them, climbing up on the wall as they threw Derek to the floor, and jumping on them. While they fought, Olivia turned to Stiles.

"Get Peter and go get Cora," she told him. "I'm gonna help Derek and Scott."

"Livvy—"

"Just do it!"

While Stiles helped Peter up off of the floor, Olivia closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, bringing up her tethers to her pack in her mind. It was like a map which got better and better the more she developed her powers. Right now, her pack members' tethers were lit up around her in a circle. Scott's and Derek's were glowing brightly in gold and red, respectively, which meant that they were in their wolf forms. In between the tethers, there were two more red dots, almost on top of one another; Ethan and Aiden. Those were the lights she needed to hit.

In the middle of a circle, there was a purple sphere which represented her. She gritted her teeth and concentrated, hoping to blast the twins' dots with her purple light. Vaguely, she could hear Scott pleading with the twins and the twins responding back in their deep and almost electronic, Voltron-Wolf voice.

The purple light only got halfway to the red dots when they were on the move, running away from Scott's. She opened her eyes just as they passed her, running toward the elevator where the doors were closing with Jennifer inside.

"Ollie, let's go!"

Olivia glanced back at the twins only briefly before she ran toward Derek and Scott. The three of them caught up with Stiles and Peter, who had Cora thrown over his shoulder. Together, they all started running again, pushing through a set of doors that opened up to the morgue.

"Don't stop, don't stop!" Derek urged from the back, glancing behind him to see the twins only a couple feet behind them.

They were about to leave the morgue when Stiles stopped and held up his bat, hiding near the other set of doors where the twins would come through any second. Olivia and Scott called his name frantically, but he stubbornly stayed where he was. When the twins burst into the morgue, Stiles swung the back at them with all of his strength, only for the bat to splinter into pieces as soon as it made contact with the twins' head.

"Oh, fuck."

"Stiles, let's go!" Olivia waved him over frantically while the twins roared at him.

Stiles scurried away from them, his back basically up against the wall as he made his way toward the others. In order to distract the twins, Scott jumped up to the ceiling and grabbed one of the light caps, forcefully pulling it down so it would hit them in the head.

The lights flickered as they ran away from the alphas again, eventually turning off. Fortunately, only moments later, the generator buzzed to life and the lights blinked on.

Once their group were a few hallways away in the operating wing, they stopped in one of the rooms. Peter laid Cora, who was still unconscious, down on a table and Olivia hurried over, hovering over her cousin nervously.

Her hand shook as she reached for one of Cora's hand, hoping there was someway to help her, and Peter took it to steady her for a moment. While he did so, he asked Derek, "Where's the big guy?"

"He's not far," Derek answered, shutting the doors firmly behind him.

"What about Ms. Blake?" Stiles asked Derek; Derek could give no response and Stiles automatically knew that something was wrong. He turned to Scott for answers, who shook his head. "What do you mean? What does that mean? Like, she's gone? Scott, are you fucking kidding me?"

Olivia winced as Stiles voice rose in anger, knowing that he was taking it out on the wrong people. When Derek hissed at him to shut up, things went from bad to worse.

"Me, shut up? Me, huh?" Stiles confronted Derek, eyes glaring daggers at him as he got up in his face. "Are you telling me what to do now? When your psychotic, mass-murdering girlfriend—the second-fucking-one you've dated, by the way—has got my dad somewhere, tied up, waiting to be ritually sacrificed?"

Scott hurried over to them and tried to calm Stiles down. "Stiles, they're still out there."

"And they want her, right?" Stiles retorted. "Which means now we don't have her either, so my dad and Cora are both fucking dead!"

"Not yet, Stiles," Olivia let go of Peter's hand and walked over to Stiles, grabbing his hand tightly; Stiles only deflated a little as she turned her head back to Peter. "Is she really dying?"

Peter shook his head grimly. "She's definitely not getting any better."

"There has to be something we can do," Scott stated. "We have to help her."

The doors they entered through burst open and Jennifer dramatically walked in. "You can't," she declared. "I can save her and I can tell you where Sheriff Stilinski is but there is a pack of alphas in this hospital who want me dead. So, I'll help you but only when I'm out of here and safe. Only then."

There was only a second of silence before Derek was grabbing a cart near him and harshly knocking it to the floor so he could get at Jennifer. Scott was right there, grabbing him and pulling him back. "Derek, wait!"

"She was trying to get out!" Derek pointed at Jennifer furiously.

"I was trying to keep from getting killed," she defended herself. "You can't blame me for that."

Olivia shook her head and gritted her teeth. "If you want to make us think you're one of the good guys, then heal Cora."

Jennifer shook her head. "Not until I'm safe."

"I'd like to volunteer a different method of persuasion," Peter spoke up as he stared at her harshly. "Let's torture her.

Stiles pointed at Peter. "I'm down with that."

Cora nodded in agreement and Derek added, "Words for me."

Scott held Derek back once again as he tried to lunge at Jennifer. Only a second later, the overhead speakers squeaked on and Melissa started to speak.

"Um, can I have your attention," she sounded scared, which worried them all. "Mr. Deucalion...excuse me, just Deucalion...requests you bring the woman calling herself Jennifer Blake to the ER reception. Do this, and everyone else can leave. You have ten minutes."

The overhead system cut out and Jennifer shook her head. "He's not gonna hurt her."

Derek glowered at her. "Shut up."

"He won't!" she insisted. "Scott, you know why. Tell them it's true."

Realization dawned on Olivia, she knew what Jennifer was talking about. Earlier that night, Scott had told her that he was going to be a true alpha and that was why Deucalion wanted him in the alpha pack. He wasn't going to hurt Melissa and jeopardize having Scott on his side of this war.

Derek looked at Scott for an answer. "What does she mean?"

Scott didn't answer, so Jennifer did. "You're not the only one he wants in his pack," she told Derek. "Deucalion doesn't just want an alpha pack. He wants perfection. That means adding an Anchoram and the rarest of alphas to his ranks."

Stiles squeezed Olivia's hand tightly and Derek gave her a worried look as Peter spoke up. "A true alpha."

Stiles hadn't heard of a true alpha before. "What's that?"

"The kind that doesn't have to steal his power from another," Peter explained to him. "One that can rise by the force of his own will. Our little Scott."

"It doesn't matter," Scott said firmly, not liking the hungry way in which Peter was looking at him. "We still need to get her out of here."

Stiles pressed his lips together hesitantly. "Scott, your mom..."

"My mom said there's one more ambulance coming in twenty minutes," Scott stated, resolved in getting Cora to safety. "And I don't think we've been here that long, so if we can get down to the garage, get to the last ambulance, we can get out of here."

"The twins aren't gonna let us just walk out," Peter pointed out.

"I'll distract them."

Derek gave Scott a look of disbelief. "You mean fight them."

Scott shrugged. "Whatever I have to do."

"I'll help you."

"Um, sorry, but I'm not going anywhere without you, Derek," Jennifer interjected stubbornly.

Olivia rolled her eyes. They were helping her at the cost of not only their lives, but Melissa's life, and she had the nerve to be picky about who was going to escort her to safety. The audacity this bitch had.

"I'll do it," Peter volunteered. "But I'd prefer to be out there with an advantage."

"An advantage like what?" Stiles glanced at him. "You mean like a weapon?"

"Something better than a baseball bat."

The group—other than Cora and Jennifer, the lazy bitch—spread throughout the room to look for something that Peter could use to his advantage.

"Hey, wait," Stiles picked up some shock paddles and held them up. "What about these?"

Derek gave him a flat look. "Do you know how to use those?" Stiles shook his head. "Put them down."

At the medicine cart, Scott pulled out a huge needle full of clear medicine. "Epinephrine?"

"That's adrenaline," Olivia informed him. "That will only make them stronger."

Peter paused from his place next to Olivia at the shelves holding medical equipment. "How strong?"

"With that much, strong," Olivia told him and then paused, realizing what he was getting at. "It would help you. And with me out there with you and Scott, we might actually have a chance."

Scott nodded and passed the needle injection over to Peter while Derek protested, "You're not going out there, Ollie."

"I've forced the twins out of Voltron-Wolf once before," Olivia reminded him of the fight where they thought he and Ennis had fallen to their deaths.

"What if you get hurt?" Stiles was the one to speak then, giving her a worried look.

"I'll keep out of the way," she assured him. "We don't have time to argue about this. Peter, take the shot and let's go."

While Peter forced the huge needle into his chest, Stiles hurried over to Olivia and took her face in his hands, giving her a passionate kiss. "Be careful, please."

"I will."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Once the adrenaline had started its wonders and Peter was staggering from its affect on him, Derek and Stiles took Cora, with Jennifer following them, out of the other set of doors. Peter, Olivia, and Scott left through the ones they came in from and faced the twins, who were down the hallway.

"All right, boys," Peter raised his voice. "Let's rumble!"

Peter ran at them first, only to be joined by Scott in the next second. The twins easily threw Peter into the wall but then took a blow from Scott. Scott ducked as they fought back and he was fine, but then they swung again and he hit the floor. Luckily, Peter was up by that point and fighting once more.

A purple sheen fell over Olivia's eyesight as she brought up her tethers. She could see Scott immediately, his tether more orange now than gold—a hint of his upcoming true alpha status, she guessed—but Peter was a bit harder to find. As horrible as it sounded, she didn't think of Peter as pack. He was more of an absent father who came around only for his benefit or to make sarcastic comments—but, she had to give it to him, he had been around more for his family lately.

After two seconds of adjusting, she was able to find Peter, a blue dot on her map. Next to him were the red dots that represented Ethan and Aiden. She focused in on them and got to work, metaphorically blasting them with a sense of control over their wolves. They took a few hits but Olivia could still hear them fighting Scott and Peter, so she used more energy. She held up her hands in order to mock her energy spearing into them and the power she felt inside of her started to swell.

"ETHAN! AIDEN!"

Voltron-Wolf fell to the ground and within seconds, Ethan and Aiden were disjointed. Olivia and Scott took the few seconds to help Peter up from the floor and book it away from the twins. It wouldn't be long until they could control their transformation again.

"That shot didn't last very long," Peter breathed heavily, still not back to his regular werewolf strength and agility. "Those twins are really starting to piss me off."

The generator was turned off at that very moment. The hallways were pitch black and Olivia panicked because she didn't know how she was going to help Scott and Peter if she couldn't see in the dark like they could. It took a few seconds before the emergency lights came on but they eventually did.

"How they hell are we supposed to get past them, Kali, and Deucalion?" Scott breathed.

"I have no idea," Olivia answered. "It was hard enough controlling Ethan and Aiden's shift. I wouldn't be able to do it to the others. Oh, go here."

The three of them pushed into the cleaning staff's room and let Peter rest against one of the shelves. "Personally, I think if we keep letting them beat the living shit out of us, they'll tire and give up."

"Yeah, that's a great idea," Olivia gave her opinion sarcastically. "We need to get out of here before they're able to change back."

"I have an idea."

Olivia and Peter followed Scott's stare to where a laundry chute was nestled into the wall. Olivia and Scott let Peter go down the chute first. They didn't wait very long after they heard him drop into a laundry cart; Scott went first and then Olivia went soon after.

Peter groaned from their combined weight on top of him. "You couldn't have waited, like, ten seconds?"

Olivia's phone vibrated in the pocket of the hoodie she borrowed from Stiles as she tried to get out of the cart. Once she was steadily on her feet, she pulled the phone out and saw that it was Derek who had messaged her.

Derek: Jennifer and I are stuck in the elevator in between floors

Olivia frowned and texted back.

Ollie: Okay, don't move. We're on our way

Peter sighed at the look on her face. "They didn't get out, did they?"

"They stuck in the elevator," Olivia told him and Scott. "Okay, we should get Peter to Stiles and Cora so he can get some rest."

"And then we'll go find Derek and Ms. Blake," Scott nodded in agreement.

Once Peter and Scott were out of the laundry cart, they left the room, which happened to be in the basement, and made their way toward the ambulance that was still there. As they got to the door to enter into the garage, Olivia stopped them. She quietly explained that she could feel Ethan and Aiden walked around in their Voltron form. They waited until it was clear and then rushed toward the ambulance.

Olivia slapped her hand on the window in the back door and saw jump at their abrupt arrival. "Stiles," she urged. "open the door!"

Stiles hurriedly opened both of the doors and Scott asked him to help get Peter into the vehicle. Stiles reached for Peter and pulled him into the seat next to him before asking, "Where's Derek and Jennifer?"

"We have to go back for them and my mom," Scott told him.

"Okay, two problems," Stiles licked his lips nervously. "Kali's got the keys to this thing and I just saw the twins, like, thirty seconds ago."

As soon as he stopped talking, there was a loud bang that came from behind them.

"Okay, stay here," Scott ordered him before turning to Olivia. "Let's go."

Olivia and Scott took off once more, a lot more quickly than when they were dragging Peter around with them. Once they were back in the hospital, they slowed to a walk. They went up a level of stairs and started heading to the Emergency lobby to look for Melissa.

All of a sudden, Ethan and Aiden came out of nowhere. They forcefully pushed Olivia into the walls and grabbed Scott around the neck, placing him up high against the wall.

"Where is she?" they growled at them. "We're trying not to hurt you."

"Yeah, you say that but I'm pretty sure you just gave me a concussion," Olivia griped as she stumbled to her feet and leaned against the wall so she wouldn't pass out. "And you're currently choking Scott, so..."

"Yeah, try harder," Scott grunted, his hand trying to rip theirs away from his throat."

"Hey!" Melissa shouted as she sauntered on over next to Olivia with shock paddles in her hands. "I'd like to try something."

She shoved the paddles into Voltron-Wolf, making the twins' body shake the large amount of electricity making its way through their body. They fell to the floor and separated from each other.

Scott looked up at his mom in amazement, but Melissa didn't waste time to gloat about how cool she was. "Sweetheart, get up! Come on, both of you."

Olivia, who had gained her balance back, scrambled to help Scott to his feet. "That was so badass, Ms. McCall," she gushed as they all started running. "Oh, my God, you're my hero."

"Thanks, Liv, but I'm freaking out," Melissa said breathlessly.

"What did Deucalion do to you?" Scott asked worriedly. "Is he coming back for you or something?"

"No, he just let me go," Melissa told him as they slowed to a walk again. "said it was a gesture of goodwill. No other reason."

"He had to have a reason," Scott insisted. "I don't think he does anything without a reason."

"Well, if that means I should continue to be profoundly terrified, then don't worry about it. I got that covered," Melissa huffed anxiously.

Just as they were about to turn a corner, Scott stopped them. He took the lead as he cautiously inched forward—Olivia and Melissa right behind him—only to come face-to-face with a gun. Both their party and the gun owner's party relaxed; it was Isaac, Allison, and Mr. Argent.

-

"So, then, they're essentially trapped?" Mr. Argent asked as Scott finished telling him, Allison, and Isaac what exactly was going on. The six of them all walked into an exam room and hurdled around a table.

"Yeah, right," Scott confirmed.

From in between Olivia and Allison, Isaac spoke up. "But there's no way of getting them out without turning the power back on?"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," Melissa hurriedly interjected. "if the power's back on, they're gonna hear the elevator moving, right?"

"Then they'll be on Jennifer and Derek as soon as it stops," Scott added. "We can't get int a fight with them."

"You've got us now," Mr. Argent assured them.

"It's too much of a risk," Olivia crossed her arms over her chest and bit the inside of her cheek. "They want her dead and if she dies, there's nothing that we can do for Stiles' dad or Cora."

Chris sighed and conceded her point. "I don't even think I know which teacher this is."

"She's the one with the brown hair. She's kinda hot," Isaac tried to describe Jennifer. When he got disgusted looks from the others, he backtracked. "No, it's just—just an observation."

Allison shook her head at him and faced back in front of her. Olivia saw her looking in the mirror across from them and studying her reflection intently. "I've got an idea."

Allison's idea turned into a plan, in which everyone would pitch in. It was simple; because of her likeliness to Jennifer, she would take the woman's shoes and run throughout the hospital before leaving through the emergency entrance. Mr. Argent would be waiting there for here with his gun and Allison's bow, which they would fire at the alphas when they followed her out. Olivia and Isaac would use the Argents' car and wait until the alphas passed a certain part of the hospital before going to the basement garage to get Cora, Stiles, and Peter out of there. Meanwhile, Melissa and Scott would go to the roof and turn the power back on, allowing Derek and Jennifer to exit the hospital safely.

"Okay," Olivia locked her phone after messaging Derek and slid it back into the sweater she was wearing. "Derek know about the plan and they're getting ready."

"All right," Scott nodded determinately. "let's do this."

They all took their leave, splitting up in different directions for their parts of the plan. Olivia and Isaac went back out into the storm to get into Mr. Argent's car. Isaac would be driving while Olivia would be looking at the feed on his phone to see when Ethan and Aiden would run past Allison's in the hallway.

"You ready?" Allison asked Isaac as Olivia held the camera up to his face.

"Yeah."

"You're not nervous, are you?"

Isaac sighed heavily. "Do I look nervous?"

"No, not at all," Olivia smirked at Allison's voice. It had the same tone she always used when she was lying.

Allison set her phone down in the hallway where she and Mr. Argent were currently sat up in.

"Did he look nervous?" they heard Mr. Argent asked.

"Terrified."

Isaac clicked his tongue, annoyed. "Yeah, I can still hear you very, very clearly."

"Just go as soon as you see them, okay?"

"We got it, Al," Olivia assured her. "Be careful."

"You too."

Just then, their group chat dinged with a text message from Scott. They were ready to go.

Allison started running around the first floor while Mr. Argent went to the emergency entrance. She doubled back around and not long after she passed the phone, Ethan and Aiden did as well.

"Isaac, go!"

Isaac pressed forcefully on the gas. They sped through the small parking lot by the basement entrance and into the garage, squealing to a stop right outside of the ambulance. Both of them hurried out of the vehicle and ran to help Peter, Cora, and Stiles.

"All right, come on, come on," Isaac urged them as soon as the doors opened. "Come on!"

Peter heaved Cora into his arms and ran to the car with Isaac opening the door for him. As she slipped her in, Olivia looked back at Stiles. He was reading something on the ambulance doors, a horrified look on his face.

"Stiles?" Olivia called for him.

He turned to her, almost panicked. "It's guardians, as in parents," he told her. "We gotta tell Scott."

Olivia nodded her head and then looked back at Isaac. "Go! Stiles and I are gonna go get Scott and Derek!"

Isaac nodded and slid into the driver's seat, driving away before Olivia or Stiles could take a step.

They sprinted through the hospital, passing through the emergency wing quickly. They had just turned into the hallway with the elevator when they saw Scott pause by it, staring at something. Stiles called his name but Scott took off again, entering the stairwell.

"Scott! Scott!"

Olivia paused when she saw that it was Derek in the elevator, passed out with no Jennifer in sight. Before she could think of what that meant, Stiles was grabbing her wrist and urging her to follow him up the stairs.

They made it to the roof, where Melissa was supposed to be, just in time to hear the monologue that Deucalion—who was on the roof alone, with no Melissa—had seemingly prepared.

"Guardians, Scott," he said as he gripped his seeing cane. "If you and Olivia were with me, I could have told you what it meant. I could have warned you. Let me help you two. Let's help each other. You and Olivia help me catch her and I'll help you get Ms. McCall and Sheriff Stilinski back."

Olivia glanced at Stiles, wondering if she should go with Deucalion for his and Scott's benefit. Their parents were taken by Melissa and she was willing to make a deal with the devil if it meant that her boyfriend and friend's family was safe.

Stiles shook her head at her and held her hand firmly before looking back at Scott. "Scott, don't do this," he called to his best friend. "Don't go with him."

Scott turned around to face Stiles and Olivia with tears in his eyes, absolutely devastated. "I don't know what else to do."

"No, there's got—Scott, there's got to be something else, okay?" Stiles pleaded with him, squeezing Olivia's hand tighter. "We always...we always have a plan B."

Scott shook his head. "Not this time," he declared. "I'm gonna find your dad. I promise."

"No!" Stiles shouted. "Don't do this Scott! Scott!"

But Scott had already made up his mind. He had joined the alpha pack.

(Gif is not mine)

[willow-salix]

This should be titled "Gordon being a little shit for the entire chapter" here it is.

"What are you two arguing about now?" Jeff asked as he walked in to find John and Selene surrounded by papers and Selene in the process of crossing something off a list.

"Guest list," Scott supplied.

"Obviously John has barely anyone to invite," Gordon continued.

"I resent that," John muttered but couldn't actually deny it.

"They want to keep it small so are whittling names off as best they can," Virgil finished. "Well, she is, he's trying to add names to his side."

"Comments from the peanut gallery are not needed," Selene huffed, tossing a ball of scrap paper at his head. "So, Troy has to be there at the reception," Gordon groaned but she plowed on, "but it's just close family and friends at the actual ceremony, we're agreed on that much."

"Yes."

"Troy can bring George if he wants, and only one date, not two, I'm not having a cat fight go down."

"Agreed."

"Let me see," Gordon demanded, snatching the list. "Maybe I can think of someone to add to John's."

"I don't need your help, thank you, I'm fully aware of my own friends." He reached for the list but Gordon moved it out of the way.

"Boring, boring, Conrad is cool, boring, Ned, boring, mega boring, Ridley?" he eyes grew wide as he glanced at his brother. "You're inviting Ridley?"

"Uh oh," Scott whispered to Virgil, moving aside out of firing range. "Incoming."

"What's wrong with Ridley?" John wanted to know.

Virgil, Gordon and Scott's eyes slid towards Selene who was busily scrolling through her phone to see who she had missed. She felt their stares and looked up.

"What? Did I miss something?"

"You've seen the list, right?" Gordon asked.

"Of course I have."

"And you're OK with Ridley coming?"

"Ridley? Sure, why not?"

"Really?" Scott looked shocked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Selene looked a little worried now. "Is she a secret mass murderer that I don't know about?"

"No," John snorted. "Of course not."

She shrugged. "Then I've got no problem, just don't let her…I don't know, dance with the punch bowl on her head."

"Out of everything, a dancing punch bowl is what you went with?" Virgil laughed.

"My brain is a bit busy right now, don't judge me, Muscles."

"But it's Ridley," Alan argued, catching the tail end of the conversation as he came in.

"So what? She's his friend, they talk at least once a week. Men are allowed to have female friends you know."

"So you don't care that she and John were almost a thing?" Alan continued innocently, not seeing the warning glare from John.

"We weren't a thing, she's my friend."

"Oh come on, you were totally into her, why else would you almost get yourself killed and Five smushed to save her life?" Gordon laughed.

"Because that's what we do, we save lives. And I wasn't in to her, we we-"

"You what now?" Selene's eyes narrowed dangerously, her mind catching up with her ears.

"We weren't a thing," John promised her hurriedly, but guilt and a promise to never lie to her had him amending his statement. "Barely a thing, not even a half thing," he continued to ramble. "One kiss, maybe a tiny bit of flirting…" he trailed off.

"Now look what you've done!" Virgil, glared at Gordon who shrugged, totally unrepentant.

"It would have come up at some point." He caused situations, he poked the bear, he stirred the pot, that was his main purpose in life. They all knew it, there was no denying it.

"Explain," Selene continued to glare at John.

"Think carefully, Son," Jeff warned from his desk where he was sitting, observing, watching the world burn as was his style, they didn't want him butting in, then he'd sit and watch…and probably laugh.

"There's nothing to explain," John assured her. "We got on well, we are still good friends as you know, I think she might have wanted more but it didn't work out that way. The GDF changed her position, she was based elsewhere and I realised that I wasn't that bothered by it."

"Not that," she huffed, brushing his confession aside as if it were an annoying bug. "I meant the whole almost getting yourself killed. Explain."

"Oh that, it was nothing. There was a comet about to hit earth and Global one was in the way and would have been hit too, I called Ridley and told her to evacuate and get clear. I had to use Five to tow the ship out of the way."

"That's nothing? You had to tow her ship, like a recovery vehicle and you say it's nothing? What are you now, International tow trucks? Why risk Five?"

"She didn't give me much of a choice, she didn't evacuate with her crew and I had to go get her. Save her, save her ship, that was the deal she gave me, I couldn't leave her there to die."

"So, let me get this straight," her voice had taken on a dangerous tone that even Scott wouldn't argue with. "Some space hussy flutters her eyelashes and basically blackmails you and you go running, putting yourself in danger because she's too dumb to do as she's told and get her arse out of the danger zone?"

John paused for a second, debating how to answer, when she put it that way it did sound bad. Ridley had been reprimanded and demoted because of it but he'd not thought much more of it, they put themselves in danger every week. "Yes?" he hedged, not wanting to argue with her but also not knowing how not to either.

"Dumbass," she yelled, smacking at his shoulder with a pad she'd grabbed off the table. "Never do that again or I'll kill you myself!"

"Ow! No hitting!"

"You deserve it! You almost got yourself killed!"

Gordon started to laugh, he couldn't help it.

"This is all your fault," John glared at his brother, fending off another whap of the pad.

"So you don't care about the fact that they were almost a thing?" Gordon confirmed, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Gordon, please shut up," John sighed, why did his family delight in making everything ten times harder for him?

"Who is he marrying?" Selene demanded to know, not looking at Gordon as she tried to dodge John's hands to reach him with the pad.

"You," John answered, grabbing the pad and plucking it from her hand, which he took in his own, lacing their fingers. "Which is why we are having this very awkward conversation and you are resorting to violence. Well, that and my soon to be dead brother."

"Exactly. The past is the past, people have history, if you wanted to be with her you would be," she shrugged, extracting her hand from his.

"But I'm warning you now, you even dare to so much as think about doing anything that stupid again and I will not be responsible for my actions." She snatched the list off Gordon. "She's going on the table with my annoying cousins as punishment." She made a note on the list looking up with a challenging glare, daring John to argue, to see everyone staring at her again.

"Why do you all keep looking at me like I'm an alien?"

"They're just jealous," John grinned, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her closer, thankful the awkwardness was over. Honestly, he hadn't known how she would react, most women would have kicked off big time. But he should have known better, she wasn't like most women, she knew they talked, she'd never had a problem with any of his friends, she knew he'd been with others before her and it had never been an issue.

"I'm still mad at you," she warned him, batting at his arm. "Get off!"

"Nope," he tightened his grip, leaning closer to risk stealing a kiss. He didn't get far as she blocked his lips with her hand.

"I said piss off!" she giggled, trying and failing to stay mad at him.

"No, you didn't," Virgil laughed.

"You're a weird woman, Sel," Scott laughed, shaking his head.

"Yeah, but you love me really," she grinned, giving up the fight and allowing John to drag her closer still.

He wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder and sighed contentedly. This was how it should be, no jealousy, no stress between them other than wedding worries and definitely no secrets. Now he just had to find a way to tell her that he'd invited Ridley to her bachelorette party too. That was a job for another day, he wasn't that dumb to push his luck that much.

[catlordewrites]

The Waif ~ Chapter Two

As an alien science experiment, she remembers nothing. Knows no one. With nowhere else to turn, Claudia must rely on the Doctor and his companions for help. She's mutating. The Doctor knows more than he's telling. But why does the Time Lord seem to hate her so much? Rated M.

Masterlist - Fanfiction.net - Ao3

Prologue - Previous Chapter - This Chapter - Next Chapter

Chapter Two: The Box

The room Claudia was in was impossible. 

Or at least she thought it must have been, but she couldn't exactly consider herself to be an authority on things that should and shouldn’t exist. But it definitely wasn’t anything like she had seen before in her short life. 

Rose had guided her through long hallways of the facility and into some kind of storage space. Within the closet, amongst the neatly packed boxes of papers and scientific equipment, sat what Claudia could only think of as a blue wooden shed. 

At first, she had been too afraid to set foot in it. It was too similar in size to the glass cylinder she had just escaped and it had taken Rose several minutes of coaxing before Claudia was willing to cross over the threshold and into the bizarre world beyond.

And it was a world all its own. Inside the box was easily the largest room Claudia could remember being in. The floor was metal, much like the grating of the floor of the tank. But the light was warm, organic. The room stretched up into a massive dome, held up by coral struts. At the center of the room was a console, covered on all sides by a wonderful assortment of buttons, levers, and other strange devices. 

“It’s beautiful,” Claudia breathed as she wandered further into the ship, plucking up the courage to brush her fingers along the smooth metal of the console. 

“Yeah, isn’t she?” Rose agreed, grinning at the other girl’s simple, childlike wonder.

“She?” Claudia echoed, accepting the pronoun without much thought. Why shouldn’t the beautiful place be a She? “What’s she called?”

“The TARDIS.” The blonde answered, her tongue poking out between her teeth. “She goes anywhere. In time, too.”

“Time?” She accepted it instantly, as she had everything else despite the gut instinct hat she should have thought it impossible. 

“Brilliant, isn’t it?” Rose circled the console, running a hand along it as she went. She made it back in front of the other girl, studying her with kind curiosity. “And you said your name was Claudia?”

“Yeah.” Her voice came out smaller than she wanted it to. “Maybe.”

“So, where are you from? How do you know the Doctor?”

“I don’t know,” Claudia shrugged, trying to hide how vulnerable the questions made her feel. She liked Rose. Her lack of memories made her feel tainted. The last thing she wanted was for her to think she was crazy. Or defective. 

“You don’t know what? The Doctor?”

“No.”

“But he knows you.” It was a statement, not a question.

Claudia shrugged and stared down at her toes, not sure how else to respond. 

Rose nodded thoughtfully. Claudia wasn’t sure if the blonde believed her or not, but she seemed willing to leave it for now. 

“What about where you’re from? Where’s home?”

“Don’t know,” she admitted quietly, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve. 

“What, you haven’t got a home?”

She shrugged again, not meeting Rose’s penetrating stare.

Rose shifted uncomfortably, but persisted. “What about family?”

Claudia forced herself to look the other woman in the eye. “I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?” Her eyes narrowed and a skeptical grimace twisted her pretty features, as if she was having trouble understanding how someone could just not know about their parents. Claudia cowered, feeling naked under the blonde’s judgemental gaze. “How d’you mean?”

“I mean: I don’t know.” She tried her best to seem indifferent, but only managed to come off as a sheepish child. 

“You can’t remember?” 

“No.”

“So what can you remember?” Rose said in a slow, calm tone that Claudia found oddly belittling. 

“Not much. I was on the side of the road, a few days ago, but beyond that…” She tried another shrug, as if it were no big deal. “There’s nothing.”

Rose nodded slowly, a flicker of mild alarm and concern replacing her skepticism. “Nothing?”

Before Claudia could elaborate, the Doctor burst through the doors. He bounded lightly across the room, footsteps clanging loudily on the grating, coming to a stop at the console, where he began pressing buttons and pulling levers in a flurry of motion.

“Hang onto something. It’s gonna get a bit bumpy,” Rose instructed Claudia, who, while confused, immediately snagged onto the railing.

With an onslaught of terrible sounds, the entire place began to shake. The center of the console heaved like a great beast as her passengers were tossed about the room.

“Don’t worry, it’s meant to do that,” Rose assured, tossing a smile at the frightened Claudia. She then lunged to grab hold of the console, making her way to the Doctor’s side, where she asked, “What happened?”

“Ship’s losing orbit. I’ve got to lock onto the Storm Drive before it enters the atmosphere.” At Rose’s confused expression, he elaborated, “Great big old science vessel needs great big power cells. If they hit the surface they could wipe out half the planet.”

“Must be Tuesday,” Rose grinned. She did that a lot. Claudia wondered if her face ever ached from it. 

The Doctor returned it, but it seemed to be more of an afterthought than as an expression of how he was actually feeling. 

With a flourish, the Doctor slammed a final lever into place and the room stilled.

“There we go! Timaltian vessel out of Earth’s orbit, safely on it’s way to the sun.”

“The sun?” Rose argued. “Isn’t that a bit extreme?”

The Doctor shrugged, evidently unbothered. “If I just leave it, it would be an open invitation for them to come straight back and pick up where they left off. Can’t have them sending your lot into a panic now, can we?”

“What about the people?”

The Doctor began fiddling with the console. “They’d all evacuated by the time I rerouted the power. Whatever they were doing, they had it all packed away in the escape pods and halfway across the solar system before I could get anywhere near it. So…” he spun on his heel to face Claudia, his eyes hardening inexplicably. “That brings us to you.”

Claudia fidgeted with the sleeve of her dress. It was identical to the one she woken up in. Dinstral had provided a new one every couple of days, passing the fresh one through and collecting the old through the small window in her tank. She’d been a bit embarrassed at changing in front of other people, but had gotten used to it quickly. She’d had to.

“What were you doing on that ship?” The Doctor asked with a sharpness that Claudia didn’t feel was justified. 

“I don’t know,” she responded quietly, hating those words more and more as time wore on. Even she was beginning to wonder if those were the only words she knew. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” The Doctor snapped, causing her to flinch slightly at the tone. “What kind of rubbish answer is that? You were there, in the lab while they were experimenting. Surely you’d have been able to pick up on something. Or are you just thick?”

The outburst shocked both of the young women equally, but Rose wasn’t as limited by the same uncertainty as Claudia.

“Doctor! What the hell’s gotten into you?” The blonde snapped, coming to Claudia’s defense. “She said she’s got no memory past a couple weeks ago. So if she says she doesn’t know, she probably doesn’t know. Alright?”

The Doctor didn’t apologize but at least seemed to realize that he’d been out of line. He took a step back and frowned before reaching into his jacket and pulling out a slender silver tube with a glowing blue light at one end. He held it out and waved it around Claudia’s head.

“Human. Female. Twenty three, give or take,” the Doctor mused, half to himself. “Odd. Very odd.”

“How’s that odd?” Rose inquired. 

“What?” The Doctor rocked back on his heels awkwardly. “Odd? Why would that be odd? Human. Perfectly normal human.”

“You said it was odd,” Rose pressed, not about to let it go.

“Did I say odd?” He fumbled. “I meant to say not-odd. Completely average.”

Rose rolled her eyes but let it drop. The Doctor returned his attention to Claudia.

“So what did you notice?” He asked, more controlled this time, though she didn’t miss how his eyes refused to rest entirely on her face. She tried not to feel hurt by it, but what Mr. Stray had said about being crippled flashed in her mind.

“Assistant Dinstral would come by sometimes to give us injections and start an Optimising cycle,” she explained quietly, her voice so low that it was nearly swallowed up in the spacious room. “But other than that they left us alone.”

“‘Optimising’, what’s that?”

She tried to explain it the best she could. It was pathetic, at best, but the Doctor seemed to grasp the gist of it.

“Cellular remodulation through harmonic resonance? Could be. Science is a bit shaky, mind you…” The corners of his lips twitched up at the pun, earning a small smirk from Rose. “But could be. What about those injections?”

“They were green,” Claudia offered, though she knew it wouldn’t be much help. 

“Right, because that really narrows it down,” he sighed sarcastically. “Were there any others or was it just you?”

“There were three of us. There were four, but…” Claudia trailed off at the memory of the young boy convulsing as he was suffocated by gases. 

“But?”

“They… terminated one,” she admitted bitterly. 

Rose grimaced but the Doctor didn’t bat an eye. “Because the experiment went wrong. What for?”

“Umm… they said he was aggressive.” She shuddered, remembering the blood that had been drying on his mouth and chin. “I think he killed someone, on Earth.”

“That’s what brought us to the ship,” Rose added. “The killing. Human experiments set loose on Earth. That’s how we found you.”

“There were people that found me before I was brought to the lab, they thought that I had killed someone,” Claudia murmured.

“Did you?” Rose asked sharply.

“I don’t remember hurting anyo…” Claudia hurried to explain.

“I doubt it matters,” the Doctor interrupted. “What else? Anything useful?”

“Solane said something about how they weren’t trying to make mindless killers,” Claudia voiced her thoughts aloud, hoping he would find some part of it helpful. “And Dinstral argued because he was the first test subject to accept the serum, or mutation, or something like that. Sorry, I don’t remember it very well. It’s been a while,” she added apologetically.

“That’s alright. You’re doing brilliant,” Rose comforted.

The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair, lost in thought. “Mutating. But into what?” Not for the first time, he turned to study her through narrowed eyes. “You said that you don’t remember anything past a few weeks ago. Does that mean you don’t remember what happened a few weeks ago, or that you don’t remember anything at all ever?”

“There’s nothing. Past a few weeks ago, I might as well have not existed,” Claudia admitted quietly. “I don’t even know my name. I made this one up.”

The Doctor frowned thoughtfully and reached into his jacket. He produced a small plastic case that opened with a slight pop as he took out a clear cigar shaped tube with little black cubes on each end. 

“I need a blood sample,” he explained and at Claudia’s nod, he pressed one end to her upper arm.

Claudia winced as an unseen needle pierced her flesh and watched as the clear section was filled. She was used to having her blood drawn after her time in the lab, so the sight of her own blood didn’t make her stomach turn.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” The Doctor commented, holding the sample against the light of the console. He stood there stiffly for a moment, and she thought maybe he was deliberating on something. 

Finally, he met her eyes, and his expression left Claudia both bewildered and breathless. She couldn’t even begin to decrypt the complex emotions swirling in his eyes, much less understand the cause of them. She managed to pick out pain and anger, but the rest were far too deep for her to comprehend.

Then he started, shaking off whatever train of thought he’d been on. He turned suddenly and vanished down a corridor. Claudia took a step, intending to follow, but was stopped by Rose.

“Let’s just leave it for now, yeah?” The blonde draped her arm across the other girl’s shoulder. “You’ve been locked up as a science experiment for weeks. What you need is a hot bath and a good night's sleep. We can figure out all the details later, right?”

As desperate as she was for answers, Claudia had to admit that sleeping on a bed, a real bed and not a cold metal floor, sounded heavenly. Then she realized that she had never slept on a bed before, nor had she taken a real bath. Then she was confused again.

Rose smiled sweetly and took Claudia by the arm to guide her deeper into the impossible ship. As interested in exploring as she was, Claudia couldn’t push the mental image of the way the Doctor had looked at her out of her mind. It made her feel disoriented and exhilarated, but inexplicably like she’d done something wrong.

“I’ll show you around later,” Rose was saying, ignorant to Claudia’s whirling thoughts. “This place is massive. It could take days to see all the main rooms, and you look like one good push would do you in.”

“That bad?” She had no idea what she looked like, only that she was tired. The adrenaline that had been pounding through her system was fading fast, leaving her drained and just a bit shaky. 

“Nothing some proper sleep can’t fix,” the blonde reassured with another warm smile. 

They took a few turns and when Claudia was thoroughly lost, Rose showed her down a narrow corridor. There were doors on either side, all metal with a name plate displaying the occupant’s name in swirling gold letters. 

“Are all these people here?” Claudia asked, startled. She skimmed some of the name tags. Names like Ian, Sarah Jane, and Adric jumped out at her, making her feel a bit overwhelmed at the thought of having to memorize that many people.

“No,” Rose hummed, not giving the doors so much as a glance. “Lots of people have stayed with the Doctor over the years. I’ve just been here a year, and already we’ve had Jack and Adam travel with us. Adam only stayed for one day, and his room’s still here.”

“What happened to them all?” Claudia felt the urge to flinch at the name Jack. The chances of it being the same Jack that had threatened her in the park were hilariously slim.

Rose shrugged, suggesting that she hadn’t given it much thought. “Dunno. Probably had just been visiting. Suppose they just went home.”

Something about that didn’t sit right with Claudia. Looking up at their names, crafted with such care, she couldn’t help but think that they all had been important.

“What about you?” Claudia couldn’t help but ask, reaching up to trace her fingers along the name Jo. “Are you visiting, too?”

“What makes you say that?” Rose demanded shrilly, causing Claudia to turn to see the blonde staring at her haughtily. “Do I look like I’m temporary?”

“I don’t know,” Claudia said honestly, unhappy that she’d already managed to offend the closest thing she had to a friend. “Sorry, I didn’t…”

Rose sighed heavily through her nose. Her shoulders slumped slightly, and Claudia couldn’t help but think there was more to the other girl’s anger than her clumsy comment. 

“S’alright. Anyway…” Rose nodded at a door without a name engraved on it. It was right next to a door that said Jack and directly across from one that read Rose. “That’s mine, there.”

Claudia couldn’t help but notice that Rose’s name was in exactly the same script as all the other names in the hall. 

She blinked the thought away, deciding to puzzle over the other names later, and instead focused on her own door. She looked to Rose briefly, not wanting to do something wrong. 

At the other girl’s nod, Claudia reached out and grabbed the handle. The smooth metal went from icy cold to warm and tingly in less than a second. Claudia yanked back her hand, holding it protectively against her chest in case the door randomly decided to bite. 

Rose laughed quietly. “It’s not going to hurt you. Look.”

Claudia watched in fascination as lines began appearing, melting into the metal like an invisible force was stamping them into the door. After a moment, Claudia was written proudly in elegant gold letters.

“That’s me,” Claudia said dumbly, causing Rose to laugh again. 

“Course it does. It’s your room, isn’t it?”

“My room,” Claudia repeated, staring at her name in awe. A small flame of happiness flickered in her chest. My room. 

“Are you gonna open it or not?”

Claudia shook off the bizarre sensation of having something that was hers long enough to actually turn the handle and open the door.

“Blimey,” Rose mused, following Claudia through the threshold. 

Blimey, indeed. The low-lit room was fairly large, and absolutely every surface was covered with a variety of pillows, blankets, cushions, wall hangings,  paintings, and carpets, none of which contributed to any form of theme or color scheme. Cushy, dysfunctional, organized chaos. Not to mention the sheer number of plants scattered about the room, sitting in ornate pots, sitting on the floor, perched on every table and dresser, and hanging from the ceiling. 

Not that it was messy or disorganized. In fact, the clashing colors and surfaces came together rather nicely, creating a warm, somewhat boho environment. A maximalist grandmother’s haven, emboldened by the smell of sugar cookies and eucalyptus that wafted faintly through the air.

“Nice. But busy, though,” Rose commented. 

“I love it,” Claudia declared, beaming as she fondled the lace of a throw pillow between her forefinger and thumb. The carpet was thick and squishy under her bare feet, a wonderful change from the cold metal or tile floors she was accustomed to.

“Course you do,” Rose laughed. “The TARDIS builds rooms for each person. She must’ve known how you’d want it.”

“How does she know?” Claudia flopped down on the small velvet couch, bouncing lightly on the burnt-orange surface and getting back to her feet. 

“She telepathic,” Rose explained, bemusedly watching as Claudia tenderly stroked the silky leaves of a tropical plant with a certain amount of reverence that made the blonde wonder if she’d ever seen a plant before. “Gets inside your head.”

“She’s inside my head?” She touched a finger to her temple experimentally to see if she could feel the machine’s presence.

“In a good way,” Rose said quickly. “It’s a bit weird at first, but you get used to it. Now, look…”

Claudia snapped to attention, blinking at Rose with wide eyes. 

“...Bathroom’s there.” Rose pointed to a door just off to the side of the room. “Closet just over there.”

“I don’t have any clothes,” Claudia said quietly, looking down at her plain white frock and shoeless feet abashedly. 

Rose smiled kindly. “That’s alright. The TARDIS keeps it stocked. There’s a main wardrobe, too. Stuff from all sorts of time zones. But she keeps all the daily stuff in the personal closets.” Her smile broadened. “We can always go shopping, too. There’s this one moon, and it’s entirely made of shops. Me and the Doctor went a while back, but it’ll be nice to go back with someone I can shop with.”

“The Doctor doesn’t shop?”

“He tries, but he gets bored easy. Honestly, you turn your back for two seconds and he’s getting kicked out for starting an argument over the proper use of some sort of space toaster.”

Claudia grinned. “Space toaster?”

Rose beamed back. “Yeah. Now, what d’you say you start getting settled? I’m sure the Doctor’s got a lot planned for tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Claudia said simply. She ambled over to the bathroom. The light turned on automatically, revealing the dark stone tile and the smooth curves of the sink, toilet, and footed bathtub. 

“This is nice,” Rose commented from where she was leaning in the doorway. 

But Claudia wasn’t paying attention to the bathroom’s aesthetics. Her focus was on the large mirror over the sink, where an unfamiliar young woman was staring out at her. 

“That’s me,” she said stupidly, studying her own face.

“Yeah?” Rose said, uncomprehending. She frowned. “Did you not know what you look like?”

Claudia shook her head. She’d caught a few obscure glimpses of her own reflection in the glass windows of shops when she was wandering around on Earth, but those had been faint and distorted. Now, she got the opportunity to properly study herself for the first time.

She was of medium build and average height, with dark hair that came to just below her shoulders and olive skin. Her eyes were soft brown and a few freckles dotted her button nose. 

Average, in all, but Claudia thought that she might be pretty. She liked the way her plump lips curved and the shape of her ears. Rose had been right earlier, she did look a little worn. There were circles under her eyes and her cheeks lacked any sort of healthy color while her hair was frizzed out and lifeless. 

Claudia turned back to Rose, realizing that the younger girl had been strangely quiet. The blonde was watching her with a slightly sad expression, something akin to pity dancing in her eyes. 

Claudia didn’t like it.

“Do you need anything else?” Rose asked after a moment, brushing back a lock of yellow hair from her face. 

“No, I think,” Claudia said softly, turning back to the mirror.

“Then I’ll just leave you to… rest or whatever. You know where my room is, if you need anything.” 

“Rose.” Rose turned back, eyebrows raised expectantly. “Do you think he… you know… Can he… fix me?” The question was tinged with desperation. 

That’s how she felt. Broken. She was half a person without her memories. The scientists had known that and had seen her as nothing more than an experiment. A lesser being. 

Claudius. Crippled. Lame.  

“If there’s anyone who can help you, it’s the Doctor,” Rose insisted. “I know he was a bit rough earlier, but he will, you’ll see. Tomorrow, we’ll get it sorted, alright?”

Claudia nodded, comforted by the other woman’s conviction. 

Rose left Claudia to bathe and sleep. An hour later, Claudia, clean and warm, drifted off to sleep on her bed, covered in way too many blankets and pillows. For the first time, she felt completely safe. Her last thought before sliding into unconsciousness was of her imaginary mother and father. They waited for her in her dreams, calling out to her and making her feel loved.

[ramblinganthropologist]

N7 Challenge Day 30 - End

Summary: Well... Alistair’s dying again. At least this time, he took the Reapers out with him.

(Mentions of blood, some limb loss without description) 

---

Yep... he was dying alright. This was definitely the worse of his two deaths.

Alistair could barely groan as he lay there among the rubble, coughing up what was probably blood. It was hard to see then... one eye was definitely fucked up, possibly gone. Ironically it was the one he had lost the first time. Talk about things coming full circle.

At least the Child was gone.

Yes, there in the ruined Citadel chamber, he was finally alone. The conductor lay smoking in the distance when he had finally managed to shoot something from a distance. Things had gotten crazy after that... now he was laying in a pile of rocks, actively bleeding out.

And he had thought the crushing pressure of space was bad.

Somewhere nearby lay the modified body of the Illusive Man. Had he the strength to get up, he would've gone over to give the corpse a good kick. Then again... Anderson was close at hand too. He shouldn't see something like that.

Well... he would be joining him soon.

“Least it's over...”

Blood bubbled at his lips as he gazed up at the ceiling. It was starting to get hard to see – probably the blood loss. Either that or the massive ache at the base of his skull that could have only been a malfunctioning biotic amp about to blow. Part of him wanted to see what would kill him first. Either way, he was about to be the third body.

At least he would be the last body of the Reaper War.

Even though he couldn't see it, Alistair felt it. That one shot had ended it all. The Reapers had lost at last, after untold millennia of fucking up sentient species for the hell of it. They had lost to an idiot with limited depth perception, generalized anxiety, and an inability to control his blood sugar.

Take that, you synthetic fucks.

He coughed again – it was getting weaker now. His vision was starting to fade even more. Maybe he had a minute or two left before the end. Alistair wondered if he shouldn't have been more upset, but then again this wasn't his first time dying. He had been living on borrowed time... now it was his chance to return it.

His only regret was never getting to see Bo or Garrus again.

That hurt almost as much as his amp overloading. His last memories of either of them were on the chaos of the battle for Earth. Hell, for all he knew they were dead. The Reapers could have shot the Normandy down when they were evacuating and he just hadn't seen it.

If it had... well... he was in for some nasty words on the other side. At least he and Joker would be even at one death a piece.

“I wish I could've said more...”

It was getting harder to speak now. The overwhelming, unbearable pain in multiple parts of his body was starting to ebb away. No doubt about it, this was the end. All he could do was prepare for what was to come.

At least he closed his eyes. He had never liked coming upon bodies all splayed out, wide-eyed and staring at the living. It was kind of gross. Then again, Alistair doubted anyone was going to be able to find him before he was a skeleton.

Maybe that was for the best... bodies got kind of gross.

As his world went black and all feeling ceased, Alistair had one last thought. The sun was going to rise on Earth tomorrow. It was still there, even if he wasn't. They had managed to do what not even the Protheans could. It was over.

It was over... and so was he. So he let himself go, floating away to wherever he went the first time. At least this time, there were no Collectors.

---

The funny thing about dying was that it wasn't supposed to fucking hurt so badly.

'You aren't through yet.'

Shut the fuck up and let him die in peace... noisy ass ghost or god or whatever.

'Strange, you aren't normally this rude. Oh well... they're waiting for you.'

A haze of dull agony surrounded him like a blanket. Funny, the first time he had died it had been over rather quickly. One moment he was floating in the blackness of space as pressure crushed him like a tin can... and then he was waking up on a Cerberus base as it all went to hell.

…

Fuck you have GOT to be kidding him. Was he ever going to get to die in peace?

The first feeling he got back was the tips of his fingers. Toes came back too, not enough to wiggle but he felt the pain no matter what. On a scale of 1 to 10, it was get him some fucking pain medicine or finish killing him.

There was noise somewhere, he wasn't sure where. It sounded...

“Folks, it's the bottom of the 7th inning, the bases are loaded and the score is tied 5-5. Batting fifth for the Luna Bats is Luna colony's very own Jim O'Reilly.

Like a baseball game. And if he heard that score right, his Bats were tied with their best pitch hitter up!

“I can't believe he's fucking missing this.”

“So if he hits the ball and nobody catches it, that means they run around the squares and score?”

“Bases, Mandibles, I already explained it to you. Damn it, Al, you got me explaining baseball now.”

He knew those voices. They belonged to Bo and to Garrus. Unless they were all dead and watching baseball from the afterlife, then they were alive and well enough to complain. Given the fact his sister hated baseball... that was another point to him being alive.

That's a strike.”

“It's a ball, it was outside the box.” Another groan. “For fuck's sake.”

The count is now 3-2. And the pitch-

Alistair could feel his heart pump faster at the sound of a bat somewhere cracking when it made contact with the ball. He could picture it, flying far off into the center field stands and above the head of the outfielders.

And he was missing it...

“Fuck... it's a grand slam.”

Miracles did happen. Not only had they saved the universe from the Reapers, but his Bats had pulled a grand slam out of their ass.

By now, there was more feeling in his body. He couldn't move, not yet anyway. However, he was starting to get the feeling he could make his mouth move. It took effort, far more than he had, but he managed to get a sound out. He would have called it a groan, but that was being generous. A death murmur was more like it... only he wasn't dead.

Slowly, he managed to maneuver his eyes to opening. Then he shut them – too bright. Wherever he was glowed brighter than when he had shot to end it all. Now he was starting to get a headache – what a thing to add to his problems.

He still couldn't sit up... but he could probably try to talk.

“Are we winning?”

That sent crazy amounts of motion into play. Someone – he assumed Garrus from the sound of talons on tile – ran off to probably get a doctor. Something landed heavy at his side – that was probably Bo. She was close enough that he could feel her shaking.

She was pissed.

“I can't fucking...” despite that, she laughed. “Fucking Luna Bats, I should've known that would bring you back.”

Alistair's head was pounding, but he could still talk. “How long?”

It had to be some time – before the Bats had suspended their season due to the war, it had been at the very beginning. From the sound of things, they were going into a playoff run. At the very least... months. Possibly years, if they were finally good.

Nah, probably not years – O'Reilly probably only had two seasons left in him at this rate.

“Over two months, you asshole. You died twice.” Her voice was thick with emotion she was barely containing. “And in the end it's the fucking Luna Bats that bring you back. Not me, not Garrus, but the Bats!”

She was laughing still, despite how annoyed she sound. It was probably the best sound Alistair had ever heard. He would have probably laughed too, but it fucking hurt too much. Hopefully wherever his boyfriend was, he was getting a doctor with some heavy duty pain medicine.

“It took a miracle I guess...” he cracked one eye open. “What's their record?”

It was a miracle he didn't get socked in the arm, but Alistair quickly realized that was because he didn't have one. It had just been a brief glance, but there was definitely something missing on his right side. No wonder he couldn't wiggle his fingers on the right side: they were gone.

But... if their record was winning.

“I'd say your priorities were fucking awful, but you did kind of save the universe so I'll give you a pass.”

“Thanks.”

Couldn't move the toes on his left foot either... bad sign there. At least he still had all his fingers on his dominant hand. The universe had been kind for once.

Still... it was true. He was in a hospital, there was a doctor coming with hopeful amounts of pain medicine to help him. All of this  meant one simple thing: the Reapers were gone. Well, either that or they also liked the Luna Bats.

It was maybe the only thing they agreed on.

“So... we won then.”

Bo sounded calmer as she got up – probably for whatever medical staff was coming. “Yeah. We won. We won and we got you back. Forget hamsters, you're a fucking cat with how many lives you got to burn there.”

Well, he was good at stopping at life 4 or 5. Dying was unpleasant and he had done it way more than anyone had right to do and still come back. This was the last time, he promised to whatever universal figure was listening.

Still, as the medical staff freaked out around him upon his waking up, Alistair found he was pretty relaxed. Whatever happened, nothing could have been worse than facing down the Reapers and making the choice left to him. He could get past anything after that.

But... yeah... the pain meds would definitely help. His brain was throbbing. At least he was pretty sure his amp hadn’t exploded, because then yeah he would have definitely been dead...

Honestly, an injury update would have been lovely, if just to know how many parts he was missing and what he had broken in his final hit on the Reapers. At any rate, he was going to need to know how bad off he was once he put his papers in. After all, if he was going to live... might as well do it as a free man.

It wasn’t quite the end he had expected, but it was his. At least he had most of his limbs? Or at the very least half... he would have to ask about that later, once it was easier to see in a bright room.

Again, pain meds, great idea...

[ckret2]

Godzilla Recycles

It’s been more than a month since the reawakening of the titans. In that time, they’ve been a constant fixture in the world’s news headlines. But... generally not for the expected reasons. More for things like starring in YouTube language lessons, stealing cars, and recycling their plastic.

This is part of an ongoing series of Rodorah one-shots. It’s not ABOUT Rodorah but mentions of the ship are made. If you don’t wanna read the others... tbh this sorta sums up a lot of the stuff that’s been going on in them, just from the perspective of the humans who have no idea what’s going on. All you really need to know going in is that Ghidorah (grudgingly) yielded the fight before he otherwise would have killed Mothra. Half of the fic is a sum up of the bizarre crap the titans have been up to; the other half, is, indeed, the promised Godzilla recycling. Fic hasn’t been proofed yet because this sonuva took me almost two months to write and I want to get it out already. EDIT: now proofed!! Links to the other fics are in the source at the bottom of this post.

###

HEART OF MONARCH FOUND ALIVE

Throughout the titans' mass awakening, every news station, site, and paper in the world was filled with towering headlines screaming about the monsters crawling and careening across Earth's vast landscapes. Each and every individual titan had hundreds of live streams in both video and text, constantly updating the terrified world on the latest actions of the monsters storming through their cities.

The greatest number of cameras stalked Ghidorah and Godzilla's every dread-inspiring move, not just because anything that happened to the United States east coast always seemed to get disproportionate coverage, but also because someone had leaked intel revealing that Ghidorah had awakened the rest of the titans and appeared to be commanding them. Anyone dealing directly with a titan attack tracked their own beast's news, of course; but for the parts of the world situated between the attacks, watching clouds roiling far too fast overhead and listening to their homes rattle from earthquakes hundreds of miles away—their eyes darted between news about whatever nearest creature might menace them and news coming out of Boston about the titans’ supposed ringleader, waiting to see what was going to happen next.

In the aftermath of the fighting, for days there wasn’t a major paper or station that had a story that didn’t somehow feature titans, whether directly or tangentially. Every eye in the world was gazing fearfully into the distance, waiting fearfully for some several-hundred-foot-tall beast to lumber over the horizon.

And so it was somehow both amazing and completely understandable that the news totally ignored that Serizawa Ishiro had been found alive in Boston.

He was located the second morning after the fight. He was unconscious on the northern shore of Spectacle Island in Boston Harbor, within easy sight of the spot where the final titan battle had been fought. He was evacuated to the nearest operational hospital to receive treatment for exposure, dehydration, and what a week earlier might have been misdiagnosed as one bitch of a sunburn but which by then the doctors could unfortunately easily identify as radiation burns. It was another day before he was identified, and from there only a few hours before the room was full of balloons and flowers sent by dozens of Monarch employees. He hadn't woken up yet, but he was stable and expected to recover, and when he did wake up he was going to know he was appreciated.

Monarch had no idea how he'd survived. Godzilla must have saved him, everyone agreed; the leading theory was that Godzilla had stuck Serizawa in his mouth moments before the bomb exploded, driven some unknown godzillish instinct, to release him somewhere safe when he arrived in Boston just before attacking Ghidorah—and that was only the leading theory because nobody could come up with any others. (Rick Stanton's proposal that the explosion had opened up a vacuum-powered tunnel between Godzilla's lair and Boston was rejected out of hand.) Serizawa couldn't explain as long as he was unconscious, and Godzilla himself certainly wasn't going to tell them anything. But whatever had happened, they were grateful it had.

Serizawa's survival didn't make headlines; who was Serizawa to the world but another one of the many talking heads that sometimes spoke for Monarch, and not even the most frequently seen one at that? Only a few articles were devoted to his miraculous discovery, and most of them were in more specialized publications geared toward biologists, environmentalists, or titanologists. In most places, he was a two-sentence comment near the end of a longer article about Monarch's response to the tragedies or Boston's clean up efforts.

But the world was still reeling from the damage, struggling to sift through the rubble for any little signs to reassure them that this could have been a lot worse and that from now on, things could start to get better.

For Monarch, finding Serizawa alive was their sign.

GHIDORAH ROOSTS OFF EAST COAST OF MEXICO, AVOIDS FURTHER DESTRUCTION

For many others, their sign was Isla de Mara.

After the battle in Boston, when Rodan and Ghidorah began their slow flight south, Monarch was sure that they were going to head to Isla de Mara. Monarch operatives were surrounding the island when they arrived. The titans’ trajectory had been calculated, their arrival anticipated, and—although Monarch had no idea what they could actually do when the titans arrived—Monarch was sure to be there, all the same. If for no other reason than to document.

The town was still all but empty—under quarantine by the Mexican government. Rescuers were working their way through town, looking for bodies or survivors that hadn't joined the initial evacuation, in toppled buildings or buried by pyroclastic flow; but nearly everyone who could be removed from the island had been.

All the same, there was a perceptible tension over the quiet radio lines as the two titans descended into view through the clouds of volcanic ash. Just their arrival stirred tumult, kicking up clouds of previously-settled ash and rubble. Monarch and the few rescuers in the town braced themselves for hurricane-force winds to blow through what was left of the town, knocking over already-damaged buildings.

They didn't.

Although the ash on the volcano churned in the air around the two titans, not so much as a breeze stirred in the town below.

Then the titans were settled, Rodan sinking into his crater as comfortably as a vacationer into a jacuzzi, Ghidorah clinging to the side of the volcano like a bat.

And when the news got out, the world let out a tense sigh of relief. That was the sign everyone had been waiting for: the sign that, at least for now, this was really over.

PRELIMINARY FLUID DYNAMIC ANALYSIS OF AIR CURRENTS IN JOINT LANDING BETWEEN TITANUS RODAN AND MONSTER ZERO

It took days of analyzing Monarch's footage of Rodan and Ghidorah landing before a pack of fascinated aerodynamicists with expertise in computational fluid dynamics could run a proper simulation demonstrating how their wings affected the air. What the simulation revealed was that Rodan's landing should have blown devastating wind into the town below. However, Ghidorah's landing, facing directly across from Rodan and wings tilted at just the right angle, had pushed the air currents back the other way—effectively turning the force of Rodan's flaps out to sea.

And furthermore, they said it wasn't accidental. They had abundant footage now from the first time Ghidorah had landed on Isla de Mara, from his various takeoffs and landings in Boston, and from the few times he'd left and returned to Isla de Mara without being accompanied by Rodan. That wasn't how Ghidorah usually landed.

It was, however, what he had done when Rodan landed; and it was what he did in subsequent days every time Rodan returned to his volcano, until Rodan began habitually landing on the north side of the volcano instead.

The paper was released as a messy rough draft directly online, bypassing journalistic publication entirely to make it as easy as possible for everyone who might be concerned to get to the findings; in the aftermath of the titan attacks, the authors had the patience neither for peer review nor for the slow publication process and paywalls blocking off most of their usual journals. To everyone who read the preliminary paper—mainly titanologists and other aerodynamicists—the thought of a flying creature so consciously and precisely manipulating air currents like that was absolutely mind-boggling.

Even more mind-boggling was the thought that Ghidorah had bothered to do it.

Why?

TITANS EXPLORE LANDSCAPE: MOST HUMAN INTERACTIONS PEACEFUL

Over and over, they were discovering just how alarmingly clever the titans were. More than once, Kraken had camouflaged itself as a capsized ship, tentacles pressed together in the shape of a hull, just to splash any boats that came close to investigate and disappear beneath the sea, like it was playing a game with humans. Behemoth, on his way back down from Boston to Rio de Janeiro, had stopped in Guatemala to observe a construction site, waited there until the panicked workers decided he wasn't going to attack and returned to work, and then, after watching them a bit, had started doing the crane's job by picking up steel beams and putting them in place.

As articles about the damage, the deaths, and the global response to the tragedies began to receive smaller and less dire headlines, the articles about the titans' frightening and fascinating intelligence began popping up—usually not making front page news, but popping up regularly on page 2. Cell phone videos racked up millions of views.

Scylla had etched deep grooves in strange shapes in Death Valley before heading north; a few days later, the MUTO passed through, stopped and studied the grooves, before turning north as well. Which meant they were, what, a map? Instructions? It at least indicated that titans were capable of communicating with abstract symbols—that was ninety percent of the way to writing. It further suggested that the titans had language, mutually intelligible language.

Many of Monarch's employees already suspected as much; the titans vocalized at each other so much, it was completely plausible that they'd developed the capacity for speech.

They didn't expect the theory to be confirmed so blatantly.

"LANGUAGE OF THE BIG BIRDS"? MONARCH RELEASES TITAN LANGUAGE LESSONS STARRING RODAN, GHIDORAH

Outpost 56-B, which had been cobbled together within hours of Ghidorah's landing on Isla de Mara, consisted of five permanent employees, three trailers, two porta-potties, eleven (and decreasing) drones, forty cameras, one satellite, and one big red button to radio the Armada de México in case of dragon-shaped emergency. Along with the full-time employees, they had fifteen part-timers they'd hired from among the people slowly returning to town: fourteen to help monitor the titans through the cameras 24/7, and one to bike in from town with lunch each day. The outpost was stationed just north of the still-standing portions of the town of Isla de Mara, near the very edge of the volcanic rock that had been spilled when Rodan emerged. (They used to have four trailers, but the one that had been standing on volcanic rock had been kicked into town by Ghidorah. They took that to mean they weren't allowed to step on the rock.)

Outpost 56-B was surpassed for Monarch's most pathetic outpost only by Outpost 75-B, which consisted of two motorboats, a pair of walkie-talkies, a generous Airbnb stipend, and a rechargeable flashlight with a cord that, they'd discovered too late, wasn't compatible with Sudanese power outlets.

And yet, for what a ramshackle little operation Outpost 56-B was, it had been the one to provide proof of titan language. And god, what proof! They had recorded evidence of a giant pteranodon giving language lessons to a three-headed alien dragon. Slowly, and carefully; gesturing to each object or performing each action before giving the word; saying each word clearly, several times; using them in simple sentences based on previous vocabulary, each word kept separate and distinct. 

Consequently, Monarch was learning Rodan's language alongside Ghidorah. So far, they had eighteen nouns, seven verbs, five adjectives, a catch-all question word that seemed to mean "who," "what," "when," and "where" all together, the words for "yes" and "no," and one interjection that seemed to mean "look at me" or "pay attention." They knew that Rodan had words for compass directions—two of them, anyway—and that his language conflated the concept of "west" with "up" and of "east" with "down" into only two words. They had Rodan's name for Ghidorah—and Rodan's name for himself, a three-part carrying "Rrrr-DAAA-nnn" cry that they immediately identified as the probable source of the remarkably consistent name that cultures around the world assigned members of Titanus Rodan. Had this one Rodan been spotted in so many locations? Or had he given Ghidorah his species name rather than his personal name? Did members of Rodan's species have personal names?

Very soon, they might be able to ask him.

Outpost 56-B started a YouTube channel, titled it "lenguaje de los pájaros titánicos (para principiantes)" and started uploading videos with both Spanish and English subtitles for anyone who couldn't work out the translations just by watching Rodan. (When Monarch HQ emailed to complain that 56-B had to ask before declassifying that kind of material, they kept posting videos, blurred out the extremely easily identifiable titans' faces, and emailed back to request a third porta-potty.) There were human beings, alive today, all over the planet, learning alongside a literal alien how to understand a titan's language.

Over the next couple of weeks, while every titan's face battled for screen time on every major news station, Godzilla's and Ghidorah's gradually appeared less and less on North American stations as the recently-averted apocalypse became old news and full-blown sapient speaking life found off the coast of the Mexico-U.S. border became the new hot story. Between his face flashing on every major news station over headlines about titan language as talking heads speculated about the possibility of complex titan civilizations, and a wave of Tamaulipeco defenders eager to claim Rodan as a state symbol who were ready to point out that most of the damage on and around Isla de Mara had actually been caused by the U.S. military, Rodan was now the most popular titan on Earth.

And then he made a trip to Infant Island.

INDONESIAN INFANT ISLANDERS VINDICATED: "GODDESS" MOTHRA COMES HOME

Many articles mentioned the fact that after the battle, Mothra had retreated to a small island in the Indonesian archipelago. Some of them even mentioned the name Infant Island.

Very few outside of local and specialist publications discussed that the Infant Islanders were reveling in the fact that their previously derided "local folkloric" claim to having been the home of a goddess had been very recently validated when Godzilla ferried Mothra straight to their island, where she settled down into a well-worn groove in the middle of town square as though she'd never left it. One reason this news was under-reported probably had to do with the fact that they refused to let reporters on the island, fearful that it would become trampled as a new tourist destination; and the threatening psychic weight of Mothra's mind pressing down on any presumptuous reporters approaching in boats hoping to be the exception deterred those who tried to defy the ban. Instead, they arranged for interviews off island or online, and provided any requested pictures of Mothra—when she agreed, of course.

The only outsiders who had been allowed on the island had been the Chen twins, accepted as valid representatives for Mothra. Although their island still had descendants from the line of twin sisters that Mothra had gifted them, they had no living twins from that line. Mothra had already promised them that their next generation of children would have twin daughters. In the meantime, visiting twins from another of Mothra's nests were... well... acceptable, the Islanders supposed. They hastily established rules about how much the Chen twins could report to outsiders about the island and its people and culture, which they faithfully followed. (Even as much as it killed legend collector Ilene to not immediately ask a million questions about what stories they'd passed down about Mothra.)

They were, however, allowed to transcribe any of Mothra's telepathic conversations with visiting titans into Mandarin as long as she herself permitted it—and she did continue to permit it—and so it was when Rodan arrived to have a long, apparently one-sided conversation with Mothra.

TITANIC ROSETTA STONE? MONARCH TRANSLATES RODAN, MOTHRA CONVERSATION

It wasn't quite as cut-and-dry as Rodan's accidental language lessons; especially since there were parts of the conversation where Mothra had sought out information straight from Rodan's mind that the Chen twins couldn't make any sense of—except that Rodan’s thoughts had something to do with a very interesting hug-like display on Isla de Mara from the day before, and that they were rotten with fear.

(The “hug” from Ghidorah to Rodan—if that was what it was—was already infamous in Monarch. The 56-B team had eagerly circulated it throughout Monarch yesterday in the form of a several-second video that was set to the cheesiest pop song they could find and covered in heart emojis. Shortly before they’d uploaded the same video—without authorization—to their official Twitter and TikTok accounts. Stories about Rodan were beginning to pop up not just under news sites' World sections, but also under Entertainment. It was a jarring sight, considering how many of those stories also featured an alien dragon that had recently tried to destroy the world.)

But despite not having a word-for-word translation, Rodan's conversation with Mothra and its Mandarin translation did offer the possibility of a rosetta stone with which they could decipher far more about his language. Comparing his language lessons with Ghidorah to his conversation with Mothra was like comparing day one of a college Spanish 1 class to Don Quixote. It was a huge leap forward toward the day—which now seemed not like a possibility but an inevitability—when they would be able to pipe sentences in Rodan's language  through a speaker and have a real conversation with him.

Rodan's trip to Infant Island should have been the most noteworthy titan news of the day.

But noteworthy news was nearly impossible to predict.

GHIDORAH RETURNS TO BOSTON, LIVE UPDATES: ONE INJURED. EXPLORES RUBBLE, INTERACTS WITH HUMANS.

Two hours before Rodan's conversation with Mothra,  the eyes of half the planet had been glued to a constant live news stream coming out of the United States, as one local station after another trained its cameras toward the skies, following Ghidorah as he headed north. The world dreaded that the moment Rodan left him unsupervised, he'd decided to pick up exactly where he'd left off. It seemed that he’d even returned to Boston specifically to continue his apocalypse.

Instead, he stole a speaker and a car, made fun of the U.S. Army, complied with some demolitionists' request to help them take down a building, and went home.

After that, the far more academic matter of a new jump forward in titan linguistics was relegated to a small article on Monarch's official titan tracking website.

MONARCH ISSUES RED ALERT: GHIDORAH AND RODAN MOVING SOUTH OVER ATLANTIC

Another example of the unpredictability of newsworthy items:

Rodan—along with Ghidorah—was back in the news later that evening for what the 56-B crew was insistently calling a "lovers' spat," a brief skirmish that ended with Ghidorah literally storming off to Antarctica and Rodan charging into the hurricane after him.

For several hours, the world was braced, yet again, for the potential end of the world.

But before the next morning, it was clear that the skirmish was going to end with no further loss of human life—even the four Monarch employees stationed in what was left of Outpost 32 had evacuated long before Ghidorah had arrived to sweep the ruins into the very hole he'd emerged from. Coasts in the southern hemisphere on both sides of the Atlantic were hit with vicious waves as Ghidorah's hurricane passed by, but nothing that threatened seaside homes, and the worst they got in the way of weather was strong drizzles and stiff breezes. Satellite monitoring, a few absurdly far-off jets, and the evacuated Antarctic Monarch employees squinting through the blizzard caught fuzzy lightning-lit glimpses of another terrible titanic battle; but by the time anyone was close enough to record the fighting properly, it had ended with the two titans sitting on the coast of Antarctica together, having another language lesson.

(Outpost 56-B demanded that HQ send them the footage so that they could update their YouTube channel. HQ refused to do so until they'd reviewed the footage themselves. A traitor within the ranks sent 56-B the footage anyway, and the world was graced with the knowledge of Rodan's word for "snow.")

But despite the fact that the turbulence from Isla de Mara ultimately ended up having all of the newsworthy appeal of celebrity relationship drama, it still received far more coverage than the real breaking news happening halfway around the world:

GODZILLA RECYCLES

In the town of Kuta, on the island of Bali, in Indonesia, was the Ngurah Rai International Airport.

Godzilla had been harassing it for the last two weeks.

The airport crossed nearly the entire length of a peninsula, its runway jutting out into the sea to the west and to the east only separated from water by a strip of trees hardly a fifth of a mile wide. Kuta Beach stretched out along the coast both north and south of the runway. Located an equal distance away from the outposts that had contained titans "Typhon" and "Bunyip," Kuta was untouched by the recent attacks; but the beaches were still oddly barren, as the tourism that would usually be ramping up this time of year was reduced due to the vast swathes of the human population that had to instead turn their resources to recovering from the recent attacks. Still, there were some tourists out on Kuta Beach—enough that, when Godzilla's dorsal plates rose out of the ocean to the west, the wave of people running east to avoid him could be veritably classified as a stampede.

As Godzilla approached the Ngurah Rai International Airport, every airplane that hadn't taken off was grounded and those coming in were frantically redirected to nearby islands. He lumbered straight up to the side of the runway, feet still in the water of the beach as he leaned over the runway, dropped a massive pile of nets, and promptly turned around and returned to the ocean.

The airport shut down all operations and called Monarch.

As Serizawa, the world's only true Godzilla expert, was still in a coma, Monarch had to guess at what he'd say about Godzilla's strange behavior. They decided that Serizawa would probably say he was trying to restore Earth's natural order, which probably included dealing with its pollution; so Godzilla was returning human detritus to whom it belonged—the humans—so that they could properly clean up their own mess.

So the airport waited a day, removed the nets with a hazmat crew, and the next day was cautiously back in business.

And a day later, Godzilla was back with another delivery of nets. When he reached the spot where he'd dropped his first pile, he paused, looked around, and then climbed onto the runway and stormed along the length of it, apparently looking for his original stash. He pushed aside airplanes and bent over to peer into hangars and terminals, where terrified travelers who thought they'd be safer inside stared back at him. Eventually he gave up and, with a roar of frustration, sank back underwater.

This time, Monarch decided they were pretty terrible at roleplaying as Serizawa and advised the airport to leave the nets be.

They pushed the nets to the very corner of the airport grounds, near where Godzilla had left them and still out in the open but off of the runway itself. They stank. Apology signs were posted on the nearby beach and the tourists moved further south.

The third time Godzilla visited, he graciously accepted their relocation, added his new nets, and left in peace.

After several more such trips, he showed up in the middle of the night with a new piece of cargo: Mothra, riding on his back, her wings—one whole, one tattered since the battle in Boston—raised high.

A monarch ship, with the Chen twins on board, followed close behind, ready and eager to find out from Mothra just what in the hell Godzilla was doing with the nets.

Whatever the titans talked about on their way to Bali, Monarch had been too far away to hear. But now that they were on land and speaking to each other, in roars and in telepathy, the Chen twins began translating and transcribing their conversation:

"It's ugly," Godzilla said, "But I think it will work."

Mothra had climbed off of his back and onto the airport grounds, and was prodding at the pile of nets with one leg. I'm not so sure.

"We can try it! It'll be fine."

Why are we so close to humans? Mothra turned toward the airport, which was one again closed. At least at this time of night there were far fewer travelers. They're nervous.

"This is the only place with flat enough ground." He jerked his head toward the runway. "Lay down with your wing on the flat strip. I'll trace it."

Someone had produced some spotlights—Monarch didn't know who, they weren't working with them—and pointed it at the titans. Mothra had gestured for them to point the light down at the runway instead. Although whoever was behind the lights apparently didn't have enough sense to not shine a giant flashlight in a couple of city-destroying monsters' faces, they did at least have enough sense to listen when the less destructive one made a request, and pointed the light down. It shined off of Mothra's good wing as she maneuvered herself onto her back and lay it flat on the runway.

Godzilla knelt next to her and very carefully traced around the wing with a claw, scraping a gouge into the concrete. "I've melted the humans' floating weeds before," he said, and Mothra silently clarified to the Chen twins that he was referring to the nets. He did have a word for nets, but the word didn't convey his disdain for them the way "floating weeds" did. "If you get enough of it together, when it cools, it makes a solid layer. We just have to make a barrier around the outline and melt the weeds in it. The hard part is making a barrier that won't melt or catch fire. I still don't know what to use, but we can probably find something nearby. Maybe we can make glass on the beach."

Why don't you make a flat layer from the floating weeds without a barrier and then cut a wing shape out of it?

Godzilla stopped halfway through tracing Mothra's wing, looked at the gouge he'd already carved into the runway, and said, "I guess that would be easier."

As they dragged the nets onto the runway, Mothra said, Rodan visited today.

Godzilla's head jerked up. "Has the freak tried to kill him yet?"

No.

"Is he being mind controlled?"

I'm not sure. I don't think so—he doesn't think so—but I don't know.

Godzilla let out a low, displeased grumble. "What's going on over there?"

And Mothra didn't know—not for sure—so, for a moment, they were both silent. They finished piling the nets together in the middle of the runway. Godzilla's dorsal plates began glowing—not their usual piercingly bright blue, but a very dull glow that flickered near the bases of his plates like he was trying unsteadily to keep his power low. The light traveled far slower than usual up his back. He opened his mouth halfway as the light neared his head.

Finally, uncertainly, Mothra said, I think they might like Rodan.

Godzilla's plates flashed nearly white. He hacked out a ball of blue light, then let out a cough that rattled windows.

Sorry.

"Timing!" Godzilla looked at the bit at the edge of the nets that had been incinerated, whined, and started gearing up for another, more controlled burst. To the Chen twins' surprise, the conversation continued; apparently either Godzilla was also telepathic, or could simply think thoughts that Mothra could translate as easily as his usual speech. What do you mean, "like"? As a mate? As a meal? As something to beat up?

(Someone on the Monarch ship made a mental note to call up Mark and tell him that Godzilla also wasn't sure whether Ghidorah was looking to Rodan for food, a fight, or a fuck.)

As a mate, Mothra said. Or a friend? Something positive. Something social. Either they like him, or they're trying to trick Rodan into liking them—and if it's the latter, I don't know what they're after.

If it's not the latter? This time, Godzilla got it right. His atomic breath looked more like the flame of an oversized bunsen burner: translucent blue, mostly steady, faintly flickering. He began slowly melting down the massive pile of fishing nets.

If they really do like him... then I still don't know what they're after. I have no idea what someone from another world thinks mating is for.

You'll have a better idea than any of us. You're the only one that's been to other planets.

(Ling Chen clapped both hands over her mouth and let out a long, quiet, high-pitched noise. The Monarch employees, watching an automatic google-translated English copy of the conversation going up on the ship's main screen as Ilene and Ling typed it up in Mandarin, each silently flipped their shit in their own personal ways. One shouted "No!" Someone else just slid out of her chair to the floor, quietly repeating, "Oh my god." Another kicked over a waste bin, laced his hands in his hair, and stared at the ceiling, overcome with emotion. )

I've never been to their planet, Mothra said. I don't know what to expect. But, I think that it means that we're safe. For now.

For now. The nets were now a massive greyish-orange-teal ooze stretching out along the runway. Godzilla shut his mouth and straightened up. The grass sizzled where the nets ran over the side of the runway. "For now—as long as the freak stays interested in Rodan. And as long as Rodan doesn't turn him down. And as long as another Rodan doesn't hatch and try to mate him. And as long as Rodan remains alive."

(Ling made notes differentiating between the two different words Godzilla was using that she and her sister were both putting down as "Rodan" in their transcriptions: "Rodan (personal name; untranslatable?)" versus "Rodan (species name; 'volcano bird/pteranodon')." Ilene came back and changed "volcano bird/pteranodon," with a tiny smirk, to the English "volcanic roc.")

More or less, Mothra said.

"Then we should kill him while he's got his guard down."

Rodan will defend them.

"Then we get backup before we go."

You don't want to have to kill Rodan.

"No! I don't! But if it's between him dying or our whole world, I'll rip his head off!" Trees trembled with the force of Godzilla's roar. "If it's only a matter of time before the freak wants to destroy the world again, then we shouldn't wait around until he decides to. We can't let him make the first attack. It only takes him a few seconds to seize every mind on the planet. What if he gets me next time?"

I'd save you, Godzilla.

(Although Ilene wrote "Godzilla" in her transcription, she almost absent-mindedly included a parenthetical translation for the name that Mothra was really calling him. The watching Monarch employees were once again thrown into paroxysms of shocked disbelief.)

Godzilla was silent for a moment. "I know you would," he said. "That's not the point. The point is, we lost to him last time. We might not be able to beat him unless we take him by surprise. But you don't want to, do you? Why?"

Mothra didn't reply immediately. Instead, she lay back down, laying her wing along the length of the solid sheet of nylon on the runway. Godzilla started tracing around it with a claw tip again. What if they can change? she finally asked. Maybe we don't have to fight them again. Maybe this is a chance to get them to integrate into this world. Maybe they'll have a chance to heal.

(Underneath the word "heal" was this sense of massive, dark wounds, damage that felt as deep and ancient as Earth's very tectonic plates—something broken in Ghidorah's psyche that still ground together painfully inside him, spawning earthquakes and jagged mountains and chasmic trenches and volcanic explosions in his soul. The feeling was so strong and so dark that Ilene briefly had to stop typing, pressing a hand over her aching heart. Ling did her best to transcribe it, but ended up with only a string of characters that translated vaguely like "pain break scar wound darkness psychic hurt trauma?")

"Healing is the exact opposite of the thing I want to help him do."

I know. But if we can—wouldn't that be safer for the world? If we fight again, even if we win, people will die.

"Only small people."

Mothra ignored him. And that's if we win. They probably would have won last time if they hadn't gone to Rodan. If we don't have to fight them at all, wouldn't that be better for keeping the world safe?

Godzilla made a low growl that the Chens couldn't figure out how to translate any way other than "Noise of grudging resignation." He straightened up. "Okay, your new wing's cut out."

Mothra rolled over, Godzilla pried the wing off of the runway with a creaking cracking sound, and turned it around to hold it up to the remains of her injured wing.

How are you going to attach it?

Godzilla broke off another piece of plastic from the runway, held it on the other side of her damaged wing, and said, "I'm going to melt it a little bit to seal around your wing."

For a creature without anything in the way of human facial muscles, Mothra pulled off a very convincing look of utter disbelief.

"It might burn a little," he told her.

Okay, she said, resigned. Fine. I guess it can't make it worse. Do it.

She let out a long, shrill hissing noise as he melted the end of the new wing and the opposite piece of plastic together around the remains of her damaged wing, and both Chens' faces screwed up in pain. When it was done, Godzilla held her wing until it had completely cooled, and then stepped back. "Okay," he said. "Try it out."

She moved her new wing up and down slowly. It's light, she said. She attempted to flap it.

On the second flap, it snapped in half. Mothra and Godzilla both watched as the tip arced high in the air, flew off into the distance, and landed half a mile away standing up in the sand of Kuta Beach.

They looked at each other.

"We'll figure out how to fix it tomorrow," Godzilla said.

Mothra climbed onto his back. He trudged over to the broken wing, handed it to her to hold, and sank back into the ocean to swim Mothra back to Infant Island.

Although Godzilla's plastic-recycling jump into the brave new future of environmental conservationism was all but ignored by the media, in several days, one tiny detail out of the Chen twins' transcription of their conversation caught the fickle eye of mass media. A new headline dominated countless news sites' front pages:

GODZILLA'S REAL NAME: "SWEET FISH"?

Most of the articles were accompanied by an image of Godzilla photoshopped next to a pile of red Swedish Fish candy.

###

(Replies/reblogs are welcome & encouraged! Check the “source” link below for my masterlist of KOTM fics and Rodorah fics in this verse, as well as my AO3 and Ko-fi links.)

[ayearofpike]

Spooksville #13: Creature in the Teacher

UK title: Alien Invasion Pocket Books, 1996 114 pages, 12 chapters + epilogue ISBN 0-671-00261-9 LOC: CPB Box no. 507 vol. 2 OCLC: 35769024  Released November 1, 1996 (per B&N)

Sally warned her friends that the teachers at Horror Halls could be weird and frightening, but none of them are fully prepared for Mr. Snakol, the science teacher. It’s even worse when he informs them that they’ll be expected to kill and dissect animals pretty much every day, and those who object disappear mysteriously — including Sally. It’s down to the Spook Squad to figure out what is happening and how they might negotiate with Mr. Snakol, who, they quickly discover, is not of this earth but does want to find a home for his people, who are:

(And yeah, I took this picture in my own classroom. Who says I can’t keep up with photography while I’m working?)

Real quick side note: I feel like the creators of Ned’s Declassified School Survival Guide might have taken some inspiration from the cover of this book.

We were wondering when school was going to start, right? Well, here it is, after a year’s worth of adventures. Literally — The Secret Path came out in October 1995. And if you thought the start of school meant the end of weirdness, then you haven’t been paying attention to anything Sally has said the whole time. Here, too, she notes that teachers at Springville Intermediate School tend to be just as bizarre and unsavory as the other adults in town (e.g. the creepy librarian who forces calcium-supplemented milk on anyone who visits, the ice-cream-shop owner who refuses to serve anything but vanilla). 

This becomes clear right off the bat with Mr. Snakol, who seems to slither from the prep room to the blackboard and has brighter green eyes than Adam has ever seen, even though he’s met a magical cat, a dragon, a crocodile alien, a fucking leprechaun, and a literal witch this summer. (N.b. Have I already noted Pike’s predilection for green eyes when someone is special or unusual? It was a lot more common in the early going, and it’s back in Spooksville.) He starts in on his method of teaching about anatomy through dissection, and immediately Sally speaks up against it. She encourages the new kid, who looks like he’s about to piss his pants, to do it too, and Mr. Snakol responds by asking them both to stay after class. Sally basically tells him where to stick it, but Pee-Pants can’t say no.

The Spook Squad meets up at lunch and discusses their weird teachers, and Adam wonders what happened to Pee-Pants. He’d invited him to have lunch with his friends, but now he’s not here. When he’s still unfindable after school, Adam tries to peek into the science room, but it’s locked, so he goes to Pee-Pants’ house to see if he went home already. And of course he didn’t. (Remember when you could look up someone’s address in the phone book?) So now Adam’s really worried. When the friends meet up for a celebratory first-day-of-school movie, he instead wants to break into the school and try to find the new kid.

Bryce knows how to pick locks, because of course he does, and the crew makes it to the back room of the science class without much trouble — where they find Pee-Pants’ clothes, stained with blood. And suddenly the door slams shut and they’re locked in. Watch has already spotted the alternative exit, a duct that leads to the roof vent, but Adam is the only one small enough to fit through it. When he’s up there, he peeks off the edge and sees Mr. Snakol with a gerbil cage. Correction: He sees Mr. Snakol unhinge his jaw to EAT A LIVE GERBIL.

So now they have evidence that Mr. Snakol is a weirdie and a danger to the students, and they go to the principal the next day to get him fired. Only the principal, a supremely unqualified leader with shocking orange hair, refuses to take responsibility because denial is easier, and isn’t worried about the missing kid because the mom is still young enough to have another one. I feel like there’s an analogy here if I could only find it. So Sally takes matters into her own hands and confronts Mr. Snakol directly ... who realizes she knows too much and will have to be dealt with.

When Sally doesn’t show up for lunch, Adam doesn’t wait another day — he barges right into the science lab. No bloody clothes this time, but the kids find a weird computer box in the closet. Watch immediately starts pushing buttons, of course, and a beam shoots out of the side and vaporizes a nearby hamster cage. Don’t worry, Watch says, it’s just a transporter, which how the fuck could he know that, but sure enough he brings the cage back, but the hamster is dead. So obviously this means that the cage was transported to outer space where there was no air for the hamster to breathe, as the kids make the kind of logic leap that Pike usually reserves for the grand finale. Obviously Mr. Snakol is an alien, and his ship must be nearby, and this box has transported Sally and maybe Pee-Pants to it. Now if they can just find the ship in the sky, Watch can start to calculate where to send themselves.

Sally wakes up in a cell with Pee-Pants, with no obvious door but a window that looks down on the Earth. So ... good guess, Bryce and Watch? They’re both wearing white robes, but otherwise OK. Pee-Pants tells Sally that Mr. Snakol forcibly took a sample of his blood and then made him change clothes and warped him to the ship, and maybe did the same thing to her earlier in the day. (She doesn’t remember any of this, because she passed out as soon as Mr. Snakol came after her.) He also tells her that the aliens (who call themselves “Lizzies,” I swear to fucking god) have been forced off their planet and are looking for a new place to live. This means invasion, and Sally has to stop it. She rips a strip off her robe and then starts screaming to lure a guard into the cell. As soon as he comes in, she hurls herself at him — to no effect, because he throws her back across the room and then leaves. But this was just a ruse to get the cloth wedged in the door so it can’t seal, and now Sally and Pee-Pants can bust out.

They find an armory and get a couple guns, then make their way to the control room and take it over. Sally forces the pilot to bring the ship in for a landing, and directs her to land in Africa for some goddamn reason. Only just then the view screen changes from a view of the planet to another room, where Adam and Bryce are being held at gunpoint by some officers. They managed to get warped aboard before Sally took over, and now they’re hostages in the demand for the Lizzies to get their ship back. So Sally has no choice but to hold the power source hostage, turning her gun up all the way and pointing it at the fuel cube or whatever, and instructing the pilot to keep going.

Meanwhile, Watch and Cindy go looking for Mr. Snakol, and find him dejectedly sitting on the steps of the school. He knows they know what he is, and so he feels comfortable sharing his worry that he’s been abandoned on the planet, as his ship is no longer in orbit. But he’s not just worried for himself; he’s worried for all of his people. Their planet was impacted by a comet and is basically suffering the early throes of nuclear winter, and if they can’t find a place to live, they’ll all die. They don’t want to take Earth by force, though; his role as a schoolteacher was to see whether humans and Lizzies could coexist. But he’s pretty sure the answer is no, and it’s maybe too late to find another place to live before his people go extinct.

It’s a good thing Watch knows some weird shit. He has an idea, but he needs to figure out how to get himself and Mr. Snakol to the ship. Mr. Snakol got final coordinates before it went missing, and beams them over to Africa, where the ship has landed in the middle of a pride of hungry lions. And of course Sally immediately opened all the doors upon landing, so the Lizzies have had to evacuate the ship as the lions climbed aboard looking for food. Watch explains his crazy idea: what if they share the planet, but in different timelines? The Lizzies can all beam to Spooksville and then immediately take the Secret Path shortcut to 70 million years ago, where they can live until they find another planet that works for them. This is amenable to the Lizzies, and the Spook Squad is cool with it as long as the Lizzies don’t mess with our evolution.

So they spend the rest of the day getting an entire civilization across space and into the ancient past, which seems way more efficient than something humanity could do. And then they head home, because they’re exhausted, but first Sally wants a snack — a big, juicy frog that’s sitting in the road. The rest of the kids freak out — did the Lizzies change something subtle about our genetics that now makes Sally hungry for amphibians? Nah, she’s just fucking with us.

As often as the MFLAs have recurred in Pike books, I have to say that I’m enjoying it more in this series. These ones especially are not just plain cold and evil: they’re people, trying to survive, but respecting the right to life of other people while they do it. But: this means the TITLE of this one is misleading, even more than the back copy for once (at least in the US release). The creature isn’t IN the teacher, the creature IS the teacher. For all intents and purposes, the creature IN the teacher is ... well, a gerbil.