#until the actual appointment date arrives it might return to normal who knows

[az-ulema2]

Every night you dream that you talk to a genie, when you wake up you can't remember what you wished for. One morning you wake up with a giant crab pincer replacing your right arm. What do you do?

Damn is this supposed to be some sort of lesson? Trust me, I don't take anything for granted. Except maybe chicken. I can't imagine a world without chicken now. It's so versatile, half the food I like would be wiped out ahhh nooOoHWAIT maybe I was hungry?

Actually NO. Well, yes too, but THERE WAS A BET! I can see it now- my friends were probably there, and we joked about something stupid. But then it turned into an actual bet. I bet on something I actually didn't want to bet on; so I essentially tried to trick my luck? 🤔

Unfortunately, it actually worked this time. But I wanted to lose. 1. I don't like making people do stuff and 2. I have accepted the fact that I will more than likely never win anything, except maybe winning at losing, but I digress.

Alas, my life-long streak ended, cuz I won the frikkin bet!!??! Or maybe, is it that my luck is so bad it was good at the wrong time so I'm still a loser? 🤔

Either way, I won the bet. woo. bring out the parade.

What was this bet, now? Idk but I can assure u that I probably made my friends do something stupid- nothing bad but definitely stupid- but that's not relevant! So dOn't fOCus On thAt! FOCUSSS!!

THE POINT IS, I was so hungry I somehow manifested something to eat but it turned monkey paw and now I have a crab arm and still hungry af.

Also, I'm convinced the genie isn't actually a genie... more like a representation of how I should really be looking into therapy after this monstrosity of a story :3

*This sort of mess goes on in my head all the time, and I held nothing back. So it's kind of a glimpse into my mind...?

... Lmao nah this barely scratches the surface of the shit I think of, but we'll call it that XD *

I need more prompts like this heheh

[ragingpancake]

I Will Try (To Fix You) - Part 2

It’s ten days before Carson deems Rodney “well enough” to return to his quarters. To date, this has been the longest infirmary stay that Rodney’s ever had and truthfully, he should probably stay a bit longer. His kidneys still aren’t functioning as well as they should, which means Carson’s been closely monitoring his water intake and urine output and a whole host of other things that John knows Rodney is embarrassed about. He’s also not entirely steady on his feet, courtesy of the muscle spams that wrack his calves and his thighs, bad enough sometimes to nearly bring him to tears. It’s ten days before John, Carson and Elizabeth have a very real, very difficult conversation about what a prolonged stay in the infirmary will likely do Rodney mentally, left with nothing really to occupy his time except, well, time to think about just how close he’d come to death. Carson is reluctant to release him; they haven’t yet gotten him back to solid foods and of course his kidney function is still a concern, but John knows Rodney, knows that he needs to be anywhere but here and he argues his case: Rodney can come stay in his quarters. His team is grounded for the foreseeable future, courtesy of John who is unwilling to go off-world without his entire team and while he’s offered to temporarily reassign Teyla and Ronon to Lorne, they share his line of thinking. Rodney can come stay with John, but he has his whole team who’ll be watching out for him, who will bring him for twice daily check ins, if needed, who will monitor any time spent in the lab, who just want Rodney to have some semblance of normalcy during his recovery. It must be an impassioned speech, because by the time he’s done, Elizabeth nods her consent and John finds for the first time in ten days, it’s a little easier to breath.

--- Rodney, predictably, complains about the arrangement. He’s not keen on having a babysitter and that hurts John’s stunted feelings more than he’d ever admit out loud. But when Carson makes it clear that the only option is an extended stay in the infirmary, he relents pretty easily and all that’s left is to prepare John’s quarters. Easy peasy. Right? Wrong. It turns out that the room John’s claimed for himself isn’t quite meant for two people. It’s small and while it’s fine for just him, he knows that it’s going to be too cramped, too claustrophobic and so he spends the eleventh day scouting out some of the larger quarters near the East Pier with Teyla, pretending to understand when she makes suggestions based on where the light from the rising sun falls and which room has the best view of the ocean, which she believes will aid in Rodney’s recovery. He’s never been much into new age bullshit that seems to be pretty common across two galaxies, but he’s willing to shove a couple of crystals up his own ass if it means getting Rodney better.

He enlists Ronon, Lorne and a couple of marines to help move their things. John leaves his own quarters to Wallace, Gregory and Barnes despite how uncomfortable the thought of them seeing his own personal effects makes him, and he takes Rodney’s room with Ronon and Lorne. Rodney, for his part, has a lot of stuff. It takes the better part of the afternoon to get everything moved over, including Rodney’s deceptively heavy prescription mattress, his four laptops and the whiteboard that he’d swiped from the labs within the first week of their arrival. John’s stuff, save for his own bed, mostly fits in a couple bags. By the time they’re finished, he’s tired, shoulders and back aching, reminding him just how fucking old he’s getting, but still, he trudges down to the infirmary, plastering a smile on his face for Rodney as he steps in through the paneled doors. “Hey buddy,” he greets. “Got us all set up in some new digs. Wait until you see the tub in this one,” he says, nodding as Carson comes over, Rodney’s chart in hand. “He all good to go, Doc?” “I suppose he’ll have to be, now won’t he?” He asks and there’s a scowl there that John cheerfully ignores. “I expect him back here at 10 and 2, Colonel. A minute late for either appointment and he’s back here, d’you understand?” “10 and 2, just like a steering wheel. Got it, doc. How about the food situation?” “Yeah, what he said,” Rodney frowns and John knows from previous experience just how miserable a clear liquid diet can be. “I’m alright with him startin’ on solids, but take it easy,” Carson warns. “Nothin’ too heavy,” and Rodney waves him off, but despite his lackadaisical nature, John really is taking this seriously, committing everything to memory. “Got it. We good?” Carson pauses for a moment before he sighs. “Aye. But not a moment late, Colonel!” He warns as Marie and Simpson come, pushing a wheelchair that Rodney tries to vehemently refuse. John settles a hand on his shoulder gently. “Hey, hey. C’mon. Easy. It’s a pretty long walk to the pier, alright? Let’s not push it too much on your first day.” “Traitor,” Rodney mutters under his breath and John actually does smile because it feels a little like it used to before those God damned Carneans. John steadies the wheelchair while Marie and Simpson maneuver Rodney into it and after what feels like forever, they’re finally on their way. “You did get my laptops, right?” “Yes, Rodney.” “And what about the Athosian soaps from the bathroom? Those were made specially for me by Gita and, and, and the medicinal properties-- “We got ‘em.” “My mattress?” “Of course.” Rodney harrumphs like maybe he’s expecting John to have forgotten something, as if John would ever. “What about—” “Your favorite red pen that you use to mark up all those damn physics journals? Yep. Got that too. We grabbed everything, buddy. And if there’s somethin’ you need that we don’t have, just say the word and we’ll make it happen.” Rodney falls strangely quiet at that. --- It’s easy to live with Rodney. Lorne had very nearly pissed himself from laughter when John said so after the first few days and honestly, John took a little offense to that on Rodney’s behalf. Sure, he’s messy and he’s loud and the longer he’s out, the more of his biting sarcasm is returning, but John’s all for it, especially when he considers the alternative. (And he does consider it, frequently, usually in the dead of night when he wakes up from nightmares of vomit and grey skin, of an antidote recovered too late). But honestly, save for the fact that John now has to deal with Rodney’s dirty clothes strewn across the room and the stupid whiteboard that takes up the space that John’s surf board should be occupying, not much has changed at all, a testament to just how much time the two of them had spent together even before this. John follows Carson’s instructions to a T, and okay, maybe that’s a little different too because John’s always been the one to avoid the infirmary at all costs when it comes to his own health and

well-being, but he’s not taking a chance with Rodney’s. He takes him to his appointments and at nights, when the muscle spasms seem to be the worst, John sits with him on that stupidly comfortable bed, kneading the tight muscles in his legs as he tries to distract Rodney with shitty 80s movies and random banter about anything and everything that he thinks will goad Rodney into a tirade that’ll take his mind off of the pain. He even lets Rodney have four hours a day in the labs, split into two hour segments with an hour break in between. Normalcy. That’s the goal here and Rodney’s always at his best when he’s in his element, berating scientists and defying all laws of physics. That’s where Rodney is when everything goes to hell. --- It’s been twenty days since the Carneans. Ten days of the two of them cohabitating, ten days of Rodney slowly working his way back to normal. He’s been subsisting entirely of power bars and MREs, which, while not entirely healthy has been cleared by Carson if only for the fact that they provide sustenance without being too taxing on Rodney’s still delicate system and John’s just thinking about whether or not he can try to convince Rodney to try something a little more substantial from the mess later that evening when the call comes in over the radio. “Zelenka to Colonel Sheppard, please respond.” He sounds harried and John closes the latest mission report from Lorne’s team, already on his feet and moving when he taps his comm. “Sheppard here, go ahead Doc.” “I need you in Science Lab 3 please. There is a… situation.” “What do you mean by situation, Radek?” But when Radek keys up his comm again, John can hear the panicked wheezing in the background and he picks it up to a swift jog. “I believe Rodney is having a panic attack,” he says. “I have tried to bring him around but nothing is working and I--.” “I’m on my way. Sheppard out.” He meets Ronon in the corridor and he doesn’t even have to say a word before the Satedan is altering his own course, following after John. They can hear it before they even open the door. Rodney’s on the verge of hyperventilating, the sound of his ragged breaths interspersed with pained moans and Ronon is quick to clear the lab of well meaning scientists who are gaping at the scene while Radek tries to shield Rodney from view as much as possible. “Hey, hey,” John says soothingly, trying to keep his voice calm despite the way his heart is beating against his ribcage. “I’m here, buddy. Rodney, look at me. Hey, hey,” and he reaches out, finger under Rodney’s chin as he tips his head up, wild blue eyes meeting hazel. John wants to take Rodney’s hand, but his arms are wrapped around his middle, clutching his stomach so tightly and John glances over at the toppled plate on the floor, shards of glass now mixed with what looks like not-meatloaf. “Talk to me, Doc,” John calls over his shoulder at Zelenka. “What the hell happened?” “He was out of power bars, but hungry, so Miko thought perhaps he might be enticed to eat by something from the mess, knowing that this,” he gestures, “was Rodney’s favorite. He managed a couple of bites and everything was fine until… until it was not.” “Cramps,” Rodney rasps, reaching out to grip John’s wrist painfully. “Cramps. Poison, I—I can’t--.” “Get Carson down here,” John snarls, voice softening as he turns back to Rodney. “Hey. Listen to me, buddy. Carson told us this could happen, remember? The cramps. That’s why we started light. You’re okay though. I promise, Rodney. You’re okay, I’m right here and I need you to breathe.” It takes a bit of manhandling but John manages to get Rodney up enough that he can slide behind the other, drawing Rodney back against his chest, taking a couple of deep breaths. “C’mon, buddy. Breathe with me. You’re alright. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Rodney.” That’s how Carson finds them a few moments later, Rodney trembling against the other, but thankfully no longer hyperventilating. “He’s alright,” John says, glancing up at Beckett. “Panic attack when

he tried to eat and cramped up.” “I thought—I thought--.” John pets through Rodney’s hair gently. “I know. You thought it happened again, but it didn’t, right? We’re gonna go down to the infirmary with Carson though and let him check you over so you can see for yourself.” “Easy, lad,” Carson says as Ronon comes over to help Rodney to his feet with more care than he’s shown anyone else, guiding him over to the gurney before he tugs John to his feet as well. “John—” Rodney rasps, the name catching his throat as the cramps hit again and he curls on his side, swallowing hard against the panic beginning to rise again. “I’m here,” John reminds him again, moving to take Rodney’s hand. “You’re alright, I promise.” And he is. He will be. John will be sure of that. --- The panic attacks don’t last long. He still cramps painfully when he eats, but the team is always with him at meal time to help him through it, John always, alwayseating a third of his food before switching his tray with Rodney’s for him to finish it, confident that there’s no poison. The effects of what had been done to him still linger, still present often and painfully, and sometimes, John doesn’t think what he’s doing is enough. That he should be doing more, that he should’ve done more back on that fucking planet to have saved Rodney from this entire ordeal. But Rodney’s getting better. John can see that when he goes longer and longer without a muscle spasm, or the first time he pees on his own and calls John in to see how clear it is, proof that his kidneys are finally starting to function normally. “You know,” Rodney says one night after they’ve pushed their beds close enough together that if they each scoot over to the edge, their shoulders are touching, “it probably won’t be too much longer until we can go back to our own quarters.” There’s an uncomfortable knot that twists itself up in John’s stomach at that but he swallows against the lump in his throat and says casually, “oh yeah? That’ll be cool. I guess.” “Yeah,” Rodney says and then he falls silent for a moment, as if waiting for something. Apparently, his impatience has returned full force because he doesn’t even give it a half a second before he’s speaking again. “I mean, unless we just… don’t?” Okay. That’s unexpected. “I just… this has been incredibly difficult, Colonel. Uh, John,” he corrects, “and you’ve… I know that this is probably because of some weird, misplaced guilt you’re harboring, because that’s how you are, Lieutenant Colonel Martyr, but… this has been okay… hasn’t it?” “Rodney, I--.” “I know I’m difficult. I’m messy and I’ll be going back to keeping weird hours soon enough and, and, and I know I can be annoying, but you’ve put up with that remarkably well and so I just thought--.” “I don’t want to go back to being alone,” John blurts out and he can feel the tension leaving Rodney’s body beside him. “Good. Me neither.” They fall into a comfortable silence then for a moment, the only sounds being their quiet breathing and the sound of the ocean waves through the open window. (Teyla was definitely right about picking this room.) “It’s not guilt,” John says after a moment. “I mean, not that I don’t feel guilty, because I should’ve never--.” He clears his throat and stops himself before he goes down that road. “You’re… I dunno. You’re McKay. Rodney. And I… when I found you that day, I thought you were dead,” and he can feel Rodney flinch at that, but he needs to get this out, he thinks. “I thought you’d died and I just… realized that I would’ve gone out of my fucking mind if you had, Rodney. Like, legitimately crazy because you’re… You’re you and I’m--. I’m yours. However you want me. If that means we forget this conversation ever happened and go back to how it was before all of this, I’m okay with that, but I just… I had to tell you because I came really fucking close to never getting another chance to.” Rodney is quiet, doesn’t say anything but after a moment, John can feel the other’s hand brush against his own before he

squeezes two of John’s fingers. “I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say at one time in all the time we’ve known each other.” And John laugh out loud at that, an actual laugh, and as he does, he feels that knot inside of him loosen just a bit. “Which is to say,” Rodney continues, “that I… would very much like to notforget this happened. I… suppose that I’m yours too. Maybe I always have been.” John doesn’t know where they’ll go from here. He’s under no delusions that this will be easy, any of it, but when has it ever been? All that matters though is that they have time now to work through it, to figure it out together. Maybe they’ll fix each other.

[saiilorstars]

Dare To Forget Me

Ch. 16: Facing the Beast

/ Previous Chapters /

Fandom: Law & Order SVU

Pairing:  Rafael Barba x Original female character

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ` 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: The trial against William Lewis begins and despite her best efforts, Montserrat is succumbed by the fear of her own demons of the past.

There were few employees left in the SVU bullpen by 7 pm. It was one of the rare slow days that many employees heard of but only few actually saw. Montserrat was one of those.

She gave a light knock on Olivia's office door and walked in with a few papers in hand. "I'm ready to go but I wanted to drop these off first."

Olivia pulled her glasses off and put them on her desk. She seemed wearier than usual. "Thanks. What were those again?"

Montserrat approached the desk and discreetly saw the papers Olivia had in front of her. Though she meant to be discreet, what she saw left her visibly surprised.

"Those papers…?" Olivia called when she noticed where Montserrat's gaze was.

The detective blinked back to the present and handed Olivia her papers. "Paperwork on the Jenson case. Tedious as was Jenson but it is all done." Montserrat offered a smile that became a bit too teethy.

"Can I help you with something else, Novak?" Olivia raised an eyebrow, her seriousness going over Montserrat's head.

"Please don't call me Novak - you sound like Rafael," Montserrat rolled her eyes. "I'm just curious as to why a sergeant is wasting time going over an old case that's good and closed."

"Because this case is not completely closed," Olivia admitted and since Montserrat looked confused she added, "One of the children I found is still being moved through foster homes."

Montserrat continued to be confused until it donned on her what case Olivia was talking about. "Is it baby boy Doe? The baby you found from that couple who went around 'adopting' unwanted children?" Olivia nodded and leaned back against her chair. "I read about that on the news. The other kids were returned home, weren't they?"

"Yes, but this baby doesn't have parents nor next of kin," Olivia wearily rubbed her forehead. "He's gone through 3 foster homes in the last 5 months. It's like none of these parents want to take care of him."

Montserrat tilted her head at Olivia, clearly questioning where Olivia got this knowledge from. "Who do you have on the inside?"

Olivia playfully rolled her eyes. "I've been going to his hearings in family court. It breaks my heart we can't find the right home for this baby."

Montserrat was quiet for a minute as she thought. "Well...sometimes bad things happen in order for something exceptionally good to happen."

Olivia smiled but only briefly. She reached for her glasses on the desk and started to gently tap them against the wood. "Well I'm waiting for that exceptionally good thing to happen. He has another hearing next week so maybe it'll be then. But what are you doing tonight? Sitting with the boss and talking about cases? Go home, Montserrat."

Montserrat only agreed because she had set up an appointment that she couldn't miss. She bid goodnight to Olivia then walked out of the office. She made it all the way to her desk and looked around to see the few detectives left with her.

"Go home you old men," she said to Sonny and Fin. "Take a leaf out of Amanda's book and go have a drink or something."

"Same can be said for you," Fin quipped within the next second.

"And I'll have you know that I'm actually going out on a date in about…" Sonny's eyes widened in alarm after seeing the time on his watch, "...crap! Now!" both Montserrat and Finn burst into laughter while they watched Sonny scramble to get his things from his desk.

"Kara is going to kill you! And then finally my horror of this dating thing will end!" Montserrat calmly went to gather her things.

Sonny threw her a sharp look for her words. Little did she know that his date was actually a trip to visit the place where Kara had planned her surprise birthday party. And that's the thanks I get? He planned on getting a real date with Kara after this. It was only fair.

"Where you headed, then?" Finn asked Montserrat once Sonny had left (ran).

"Oh you know... Here and there, not really sure yet," Montserrat tried being nonchalant about her plans. "Have a good night."

"You too," Finn called once she got going.

~0~

Each week that Montserrat visited her therapist she felt as if things were getting better for her. And in reality, they were. But, her birthday was nearing. It meant it was almost a year now that her life had changed.

"It's not even the fact that I'm turning 30 - usually that's the bit that upsets you - but...turning 30 is the least of my problems," she spoke quietly but there was a shakiness in her voice Dr. Weslin detected. "In fact I'm pretty sure Kara doesn't get the memo that I don't want anything to do with my birthday."

"Have you told her why?" Dr. Weslin inquired even though she knew the answer.

Montserrat shook her head. "Telling her why means I'd have to tell her what happened. I don't think I can do that."

Dr. Weslin studied Montserrat fidget in her chair. "Montserrat, have you ever considered attending an anonymous abuse meeting?"

The detective seemed startled by the question. She drew some hair behind her ear then gave her therapist a curious look. "Those exist?"

Dr. Weslin briefly smiled. "Yes. It's just like alcoholic anonymous group or a gambler's anonymous group. You are doing phenomenal but...I think the fact that you don't feel comfortable to disclose to anyone else, including your closest friend, might be hindering a part of your recovery. A meeting like this would be completely anonymous. You can share what happened to you without having to face anyone that you know. Does this sound like something you would be interested in?"

Montserrat couldn't answer straight away, mostly because she wasn't sure. The only people who knew about her rape were Casey and her old Queens precinct Captain. She couldn't muster the courage to tell anyone else, not even her own family.

"Montserrat?" Dr. Weslin brought the woman back to the present. "Should I give you locations?"

There was a silence over Montserrat that couldn't be waived.

~0~

The following work week brought the awaited trail Olivia had been waiting for a while now, and when she meant a 'while' she really meant months and months. And though it finally came, she still felt as if there were loose strings that couldn't be tied up now.

When Montserrat arrived at the precinct, she came to see only Sonny around. He was blatantly staring at Olivia's office. Though the office was closed but she could see Rafael talking to Olivia, Amanda, Fin and Nick. "What's going on there?" she dropped her purse on her desk.

Sonny glanced at her with a small smile. "Trial we're not exactly part of."

"Which one?" Montserrat made a face.

Sonny turned his chair to face her. "The Lewis Williams trial. It starts tomorrow."

Montserrat wasn't as caught up with Manhattan's SVU cases before her time. There was hardly a need, and even then she had taken a look at some of the more bigger ones...and perhaps that one may have shown up. "Lewis case…" she repeated quietly while she tried to remember. She drew in a breath when she came up blank. "I'm going to sound so unprofessional but what case is that?"

Sonny barely got to raise an eyebrow when they both heard the office door opening up. Rafael had led the rest of the squad out and when he walked, he made a purpose to head for the two detectives who were out of the loop. "You two, keep your mouths shut. Don't talk to anyone, got it?"

There was a mutual confusion between Montserrat and Sonny.

"...you know, you could just say 'good morning' like a normal person," Montserrat quietly said and looked away before she could meet Rafael's deadpanning look.

Rafael rolled his eyes as he assumed she was being sarcastic - which was too early in his opinion. "Do you understand, Novak?"

Montserrat helplessly glanced at Sonny then at the others coming out of the office. "I wish I did but I don't. I don't know what's going on."

"That makes two," Sonny's agreement helped her out in that she wasn't being rude this time.

In fact, it seemed as if it re-directed some of Rafael's annoyance towards the others. He looked back at the rest of the squad with disbelief. "You haven't caught them up? Are you serious!?"

"It didn't seem pertinent," Olivia was the one to answer, even though it revolved entirely around her.

"What didn't?" asked both Montserrat and Sonny, making Rafael nearly slap his forehead with deeper irritation.

"You two," he dropped his hand only to point at them, "Get yourselves caught up. You're the only detectives allowed to be in the trial from beginning to end. But your strength is also your weakness: your absences in this case make you easy preys for the defense. They will try to weed out any information from you so be on guard."

"With all due respect, councilor, I think Montse and I know what we're doing," Sonny leaned back in his chair. "But it wouldn't hurt to discuss more about this."

On that note, Rafael agreed. He glanced at the rest of the squad with a warning glint in his eyes. "Do it. Better safe than sorry." He took off but briefly stopped next to Montserrat. "And good morning," he greeted her with one of his usual smirks.

A smile came to Montserrat's face when he took off again. It was short lived after seeing the grimness the rest of her co-workers carried with them. "Okay, seriously, someone tell us what's going on?"

~ 0 ~

Montserrat wished she would've never asked.

She seriously meant it.

To learn what her sergeant - and more importantly her friend - had gone through with the animal that was Lewis Williams was terrifying, and heartbreaking. Montserrat couldn't believe that someone as strong as Olivia Benson had the misfortune of crossing paths with Lewis. It definitely made Montserrat look at Olivia in a new way.

So, on the first day of trial Montserrat presented herself at the courthouse earlier than the others would. She walked through the crowds of people down the hallway until she spotted Olivia sitting alone on a bench. As she got closer, Montserrat could see the distant look on Olivia's face that was really a cover up for all the nervousness she must have been feeling.

"Here," Montserrat offered Olivia the coffee cup in her hand. Olivia was, of course, surprised to see Montserrat there so early. Montserrat just continued to smile and motioned Olivia to take the coffee.

"Thank you," Olivia quietly said before taking the cup. She hadn't been able to eat nor drink anything that morning - she didn't think she could stomach it.

Montserrat still felt at a loss for words. In her experience, nothing anyone could say helped her get through her trauma. "When you were looking at the Baby Boy Doe case the other night...were you thinking about...this?"

Olivia pursed her lips together, letting the warmth of the coffee hit her lips from the inside. She gave a slight nod of her head in the end.

"I did notice you were...a little more distant but I didn't imagine it was because of this," Montserrat sighed. "Liv, I don't even know what to tell you. I'm sure whatever I do say it won't be enough."

Olivia still offered the detective a thankful smile. "Your presence is appreciated. And trust me, I didn't think it was important to burden you nor Carisi about this. You weren't there anyways-"

"-but we're your friends, Liv. And I don't mean that as a 'you should've told us something' because it doesn't entitle us to anything. I just…" Montserrat sighed again and moved to sit next to Olivia. She licked her lips with a new sense of nervousness, as if something she could say would tip Olivia off that she was speaking from a similar experience.

Olivia studied Montserrat, much to the detective's luck, and got the feeling she was holding something back. It reminded Olivia of the early days when they'd hired Montserrat. Every now and then, Montserrat would become cryptic with her words and she would exhibit odd actions and expressions. She hadn't seen it in a while, actually.

Montserrat released a breath and shifted a bit to better face Olivia. "Do you think that if you would've told me or Sonny about this...it would've made you feel any better about this whole thing?"

Olivia tilted her head as she tried to understand what Montserrat wanted to know. "Well, it wasn't much of a secret to begin with. Everyone else saw what I went through...what...happened…"

"I know, I know," Montserrat made a motion for Olivia to stop so she could better explain, "I meant like...everything Lewis did to you, it's traumatic no doubt. Would talking about it to someone, someone besides a therapist, make you feel better about it? Like, if you sat down with one of us and just...let it all out?"

Olivia admitted that she never considered talking about the four days with Lewis with anyone but her therapist. Sure, the squad had been witness to the crime scenes but she'd never actually talked with any of them about what went on during those days. She didn't feel ready for it, and when she'd finally gotten to a better place...she didn't want to tell anyone else. Her therapist was helping her anyways. What was the point in poking holes in her recovery?

Just when Montserrat thought she was about to get an answer, the rest of the squad arrived. She did her best to hide her disappointment, but maybe she didn't do a very good job in those first seconds because Olivia kept giving her strange looks.

"Looking strong, Olivia," Fin offered the Sergeant an encouraging smile.

"You all came," Olivia was truly surprised they'd go to the trouble of coming all together on the day that each would testify at different hours.

"We got your back, Liv," Nick reminded her.

Rafael emerged from the trial room and was thoroughly confused to find the whole group there. "What are you people doing here? You know you can't watch the trial. You're all witnesses."

"We're here for moral support," Amanda assured him they knew the rules.

"And Montse and I are going to be there for all of it," Sonny gestured to himself and the ginger still sitting on the bench. His words of support weren't as good since said woman seemed to be staring to the side.

Her mind had gotten to somewhere else.

"Montse?" Olivia was the one to bring Montserrat back to the present. The sergeant rose from the bench and held a hand out for Montserrat.

Realizing she'd lost reality for a second, Montserrat cleared her throat and got on her feet. "Sorry, yes. Ready?"

Olivia slowly nodded and glanced at the others to reiterate she was alright.

"Counselor, don't mess this one up," Fin told Rafael, as if the latter was thinking of it.

"I was gonna tell you the same thing," he quipped then shot the rest of the squad a sharper look. "Remember why we're here." His look lingered on Montserrat for her obvious unresponsive self.

Least she wasn't a witness this time.

~ 0 ~

As far as Montserrat could see, Lewis William was a manipulative, calculating man. He had a terrible scar that curved the left side of his face - a scar that Olivia had allegedly left on him. When Lewis would walk - because oh yes, as a last way to taunt Olivia he had decided to defend himself - he would purposely make a bigger limp than what it really was. He didn't fail to mention the fact the NYPD Had a vendetta against him while he interrogated Finn and Amanda.

By the time Lewis got to cross-examine Nick, both Montserrat and Sonny had learned that he was a conniving man hellbent on making it look like the NYPD was framing him and covering up that Olivia was the one to initiate a relationship with him.

"So, it's impossible to know conclusive who actually shot that officer, isn't it?" Lewis knew very well he had murdered an officer but the jury didn't, and as far as he was concerned they would believe Olivia could've had a hand in it.

Nick was barely holding himself to just glare at the man. "Oh, there's no way she did it. She was duct taped, lying on the car floor."

"Again, that's what she told you?"

"Yes,"

There was a moment of silence that passed by before Lewis would ask another question. "Do you remember the first time that you and detective Benson interrogated me? How would you characterize her demeanor? was she physically close? Flirtatious? Did she seem aroused when I spoke to her?"

Nick despised Lewis even more at that moment, because no matter how he would answer it would make Olivia look bad. "She may have acted provocatively, but that was for your benefit. During an interrogation, you role-play."

"Is rape considered a sexual act amongst SVU detectives?"

"No, it's not about sex. It's about power, control, humiliation…"

"So why, in your opinion, when your partner was questioning me about rape, did she sexualize the interrogation?"

"It's a technique to find a way to connect to the suspect," Nick answered almost through gritted teeth.

"Well, I would say it worked," Lewis turned in time to see Rafael practically slam his pen on the desk in anger. With a smirk, Lewis said, "Withdrawn."

As soon as the trial was finished, Montserrat was the first to get up to go. She felt revulsion for that man, sick to her stomach, so she knew how Olivia was feeling at the moment.

"You should go home," Montserrat advised Olivia once they were in the hallway. For the case's benefit, the rest of the squad except for her and Sonny had departed the moment they were finished testifying. "Try to do something to get your mind off this for a bit."

"Not gonna tell me to get some rest?" Olivia asked since that was what everyone always told her in the early days after the kidnapping..

"No, that never works in the beginning," Montserrat said far too quickly and too matter-of-factly. Olivia once again felt there was something this detective was keeping back. It felt as if Montserrat knew what she was talking about.

"That was awful," Sonny was telling Rafael as the two walked out of the trial room.

"But fixable," Rafael said with utter confidence. He expected such manipulations from Lewis but he was confident that he would outsmart this man no matter what. "Liv, you should go get some rest-"

"-don't tell her get rest, it won't work," Montserrat all but practically snapped at him. She looked mighty distressed for someone who'd only sat in on the trial.

Olivia placed a hand on Montserrat's arm and nodded at Rafael. "I will try, but...you know it'll be difficult to sleep for the next couple of weeks."

"Just try," Rafael persisted. "And Novak, maybe you should consider it too since you're all riled up."

Montserrat momentarily glared until she realized he was right. It wasn't her place and it certainly wasn't her right to be upset. Olivia was the one who needed all the support right now. She was the one who would have to face her attacker soon, the one who would have to talk to him...look at him…

The moment her face went pale was instantaneous. Now she truly looked sick. "I'll see you. Take it easy Olivia," she said in a quick blue before turning to leave.

There was mutual confusion as well as concern between the remaining three.

~ 0 ~

The last thing Casey Novak was expecting that night was for her cousin to knock on her apartment door.

"I need you," Montserrat uttered the three words nearly in tears.

Casey might not have had the context she needed to figure out what led Montserrat to her door, but she was pretty sure what it was ABOUT about. She brought her cousin inside and took her to the living room where Montserrat opened the floodgates of her problem for the day.

"And I know it's not my case, it's not my trial, but it's making me remember what I went through last year," Montserrat spoke rather fast but Casey was used to the speedy relaying of information.

The two cousins sat on the couch, Montserrat draped under a blanket Casey brought for her. It was their comfort blanket each had held in their worst moments.

"It's Olivia's case and I should be a better friend who puts aside their trauma to help them," Montserrat drew in a shaky breath. "But I can't. It's literally against me. It's been almost a year, why is it still affecting me like this?"

"Well-" Casey tried to answer but Montserrat wasn't finished rambling.

"I've done everything right. I've moved cities, I've found new friends, a new job. I got a therapist and I've gone to each of my sessions. I've tried being happy and making better, new memories so why is this happening?" by the time Montserrat finished her question, new tears had spilled down her face.

"It's a long, long process Montserrat," Casey spoke in a gentle tone. "I've seen victims take years to fully recover, but even then there's always going to be a wound."

"So I'm just going to relapse every few years?"

"What you're feeling doesn't mean that you're undoing all of your progress," Casey first said to make sure Montserrat understood she wasn't doing anything wrong. "You were violated and that is a traumatic event that will, on occasion, cause these moments of pain. It's normal. You're human, Montse."

Montserrat sniffled. "I'm a detective, I can't afford these moments."

"As a lawyer, I advise you not to bottle it up. It's good that you're talking it out with someone," Casey offered a kind smile for her cousin.

Montserrat thought back to her therapist's suggestion and even when she'd asked Olivia her thoughts about talking with people. "But I'm supposed to be supporting Olivia right now."

Casey understood what Montserrat meant, and even though she loved Olivia she had to think about her family first. "Maybe you can support her outside of the trial room." The suggestion didn't seem to sit well with Montserrat. "It's obvious that this Lewis case is bringing up memories and feelings. If Olivia knew about this, she would understand. But even without the knowledge of your rape, she won't be upset if you don't show up to the trial."

Montserrat brought a hand to her forehead. "I'm supposed to be her moral support. Now I'm becoming the one who needs the support?"

"There is nothing to be ashamed of, Montserrat," Casey said in a sharp, almost warning, tone. "You need your time too. And let me put it in a way that might get me to understand: if you're not at your best, then can you really support Olivia?"

Well, that she understood.

~0~

While the trial continued, Montserrat listened to Casey's advice and stayed away from the trial for a few days. She decided there was perhaps another way she could support Olivia.

She rarely visited Family court and it was honestly not a place you wanted to be at so much. It just brought back too many memories, too many decisions that she would rather forget. but this was a better way to support Olivia without harming herself in the process.

She took a seat in one of the empty benches and listened to the hearing of Baby Boy Doe.

A social worker was giving her rendition of a finished investigation concerning Baby Boy Doe, and it seemed like things could be getting better for this baby. "Your Honor, ACS have thoroughly conducted an examination of a new Foster home for baby boy doe. It is our belief that baby boy doe would be well cared for by these Foster parents."

The judge herself seemed rather relieved this was the case. She looked over her copy of the paperwork the social worker was reading from and gave a conclusive nod. "Let's hope so, Miss Carlisle. This would be Baby Boy Doe's fourth home in the past 5 months. I grant the motion to place Baby Boy Doe in the care of the Walkers." The judge slammed her mallet over her desk and adjourned the court.

Montserrat rose from her seat and moved towards the social worker before the latter could leave. "Excuse me, I'm detective Novak," she flashed her badge then put it away, "My sergeant, Olivia Benson, sent me in her place today to see how the case was going."

the mention of Olivia's name seemed to ease the social worker. Clearly, they knew each other. "Sergeant Benson, yes we've talked. Is she okay?"

"Um…" Montserrat was surprised that the social worker didn't know about the ongoing trial, but she wasn't going to tell her either. "She just couldn't make it. She's very attached to this baby."

Miss Carlisle agreed with a nod while she finished packing her things. "Yes. She's the one who found him."

"I heard. So is this new home really the best one for this baby? I just heard from Olivia that he's been moved quite a lot for the few months he's been in ACS custody."

"Yes," Miss Carlisle side. She moved around once in awhile and started walking towards the accident the room. "we've had to move him for safety reasons. There was one home that was already housing more foster kids than we realized. Then there was another one that wasn't as safe as we thought. The third one actually gave him a fungal disease so we need to immediately get him out of there."

"Poor baby," Montserrat said. She followed Miss Carlisle into the hallway. "Listen, I don't know if usually do this...but because Olivia wasn't here I was wondering if you could give me the new address of this baby."

Miss Carlisle offered a nervous smile. "I'm not sure that's really in protocols."

"Well, it's just as you said...my sergeant was the one who found this baby so she's pretty attached to him. I'm sure it would make her really happy if she could just visit the baby. Unless if you think the Foster family wouldn't like that…"

"No, no, I don't think they would mind. It's just not really seen as much…"

"My sergeant isn't like the others," Montserrat subtly insisted.

Miss Carlisle looked around the hallway that was pretty empty save for them. "Well...I suppose it wouldn't hurt anyone. Would you have time to come by my office?"

"Of course," Montserrat smiled and gestured for her to lead the way out.

[freddiesaysalright]

Blessed Part 4

The Peace Like a River Sequel

Summary: Gwilym and Y/N are married. Violet is six years old. Baby number two is on the way. There are still some shadows that plague Y/N in her marriage to Gwil, and Violet is suddenly resentful of her parents. The Lee family tries to stick together.

Word Count: 2.5k

Tag List:  @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @simmisblog​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @lookuptotheskiesandsee​, @readinghorn​, @riddikuluslypotter​, @doingalrightt​, @misslolasworld​, @lemurian-starship​, @ravenedges-lies, @painkiller80​, @imgonnabeyourslave​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @ixchel-9275​, @sincerelygmg, @lv7867​, @unicorn-princess-1999​, @delilahmay39​, @chlobo6​, @dragon-out-of-water​, @radio-hoo-ha​, @agentmalfoy24601​, @thigh-your-mother-down​, @im-an-adult-ish​, @anotherhystericalqueen​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: The second to last part of this series! Some drama ensues, of course.

Haven’t read Peace Like a River? Start here!

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  

Part 4 here we go!!!

Due to scheduling conflicts, you didn’t actually get to go until almost a month later. Sybil’s due date was within the week, but you were at last able to book an appointment. You just hoped you didn’t go into labor before then. When the day arrived, and you had no labor pains or anything, you actually thanked your baby for holding off.

Unexplainable nerves came over you as you and Gwilym walked into the therapist’s office. Her name was Dr. McHale, and she was a sweet woman who made you feel comfortable talking about what you had been through with Henry. You were honest with Gwilym when you said you felt better after the appointment, but you weren’t sure how it would go this time with him there. They introduced themselves to each other and then all three of you went into her office.

“Welcome back, Y/N,” Dr. McHale said as you all took your seats. “So glad you could join us today, Gwilym. Y/N, how have you been since I saw you last?”

“Pretty good,” you told her. “I’m more anxious than ever for the baby, for sure.”

“That’s normal,” she returned with an understanding smile. “Have you had any more issues with relying on your husband?”

Gwilym looked at you, but you couldn’t meet his gaze.

“I’m trying really hard to,” you said. “But I feel like I can’t help it. I’ve had to do things myself since I was sixteen. It’s a big adjustment for me.”

“Do you trust your husband?” she asked.

“With my life,” you answered quickly. “And my daughters’ lives.”

“Did you ever have that kind of faith in Henry?” she continued.

“Yes,” you told her. “He didn’t start physically abusing me until after we were married.”

“But you feel that he emotionally abused you before and then into your marriage?”

“Sort of, but he was mostly a good guy,” you said. “Things just...intensified once we were married.”

“So, do you think your problem now is that you feel like you’re still waiting for the other shoe to drop?” she asked. “That one day Gwilym might suddenly turn on you?”

Once again, you felt the need to crack a joke. Make light of the situation so the room didn’t feel like it was closing in on you. You stole a glance at Gwilym to try and glean what he was feeling. You expected him to be angry. That you’d upset him and he might just walk out of the room or start shouting at you. But he wasn’t. His face looked as kind as ever as he patiently waited for you to answer. You looked at Dr. McHale.

“Yes, I think that’s exactly what’s going on.”

She looked at Gwil. “And you reassure her of your dedication to her?”

“I do,” he answered. “We’ve talked at length about it.”

“With Y/N, it’s going to take more than words,” she replied. “Words are powerful tools, but action is what makes tools useful.”

“He does reassure me with his actions,” you said, becoming a little defensive. “He adopted my daughter, he spends time with her, he helps me with lots of things before I even ask and -”

Dr. McHale smiled and held up a hand to stop you. “Relax, Y/N. I’m not saying he’s done anything wrong. It actually sounds like he’s on the right track with you.”

You sighed and sat back into your chair again. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” she returned. “I’m not angry with you.”

You opened your mouth to apologize again, but quickly closed it. You nodded instead.

“Y/N, I want you to be totally honest when you answer this question,” she said. “Do you think Gwilym would ever hit you?”

That took you aback. It wasn’t something you had thought hard about. But it made sense. It was what Henry had instilled in you. Tension, disagreement, anything he didn’t like, ended in violence. If he was drunk, it would happen completely unprovoked. You remembered seeing Gwilym drunk the day after the first Dear Friend meeting.

“I...I don’t know,” you said. “I didn’t think Henry ever would, but he did.”

You looked at Gwilym and saw a flicker of hurt behind his eyes.

“Y/N, I…” he trailed off, speechless.

You didn’t know what to say.

“I want to try something,” Dr. McHale said. “Y/N, take Gwilym’s hands in yours.”

He offered you his hands. You tried to smile at him, but it quickly faltered. You hated that he was wounded by what you said, but you had to work through all of this. And that meant being completely honest. Ultimately, you were sure that was what Gwilym wanted as well. 

“Close your eyes,” Dr. McHale instructed, and you did so. “I want you to recall everything your husband does with his hands. On a day-to-day basis or anything in particular that sticks out to you.”

You nodded and a whole sea of thoughts pushed their way to the front of your mind. You thought of how Gwilym held Violet, scooping her up and tickling her. The gentle way he touched her face. You thought of the way he touched you, every tender caress of your cheek or running his fingers through your hair. And when he made love to you, you thought of how his hands explored your body, showing his adoration of every inch of your skin. You thought of how he rubbed your baby bump, especially the first day it was really visible. His touch was feather-light, as if he were afraid he might crush her beneath him. 

“Now, can you imagine them striking you?” Dr. McHale asked.

You tried, but with everything you just remembered, nothing came up. The idea of Gwilym hitting you was so impossible, you couldn’t even conjure a mental picture of it.

Gwilym watched you, his heart pounding. He had no idea what you thought of upon Dr. McHale’s instructions. Had Henry’s fists been so bruising that they were embedded on your skin forever? Did it matter now that someone else was touching you? Someone who wanted desperately to heal where you had been hurt?

“No,” you said shaking your head. “I can’t imagine it.”

He released a breath he had not even realized he’d been holding. You opened your eyes and met his and he saw relief there that matched his own. You watched as a smile stretched across his face.

“Thank God,” he sighed.

You laughed with contentment. “I know.”

“Y/N, I want you to remember this any time you start to feel that anxiety that forms from dissention in your relationships,” Dr. McHale said. “Remember this feeling and that the thought of violence from Gwilym was unimaginable.”

You tore your eyes away from Gwilym’s and looked gratefully at her.

“I will,” you said with a nod.

“Now, I know words are only tools like I said, but they are effective,” she went on. “Look back at your husband.” 

You did so. Gwilym’s bright blue eyes were shining with his love for you.

“Repeat after me,” Dr. McHale said. “I trust you.”

You held his gaze.

“I trust you,” you said.

He smiled and squeezed your hand.

“I rely on you,” she said.

“I rely on you,” you repeated.

“I need you in my life.”

You swallowed and then smiled back at him. “I need you in my life.”

“Okay, Gwilym, your turn,” she said. “Keep looking at Y/N and repeat after me. I respect you.”

“I respect you,” he said.

“I care for you,” she went on.

“I care for you,” he repeated.

“I need you in my life.”

He scooted his chair closer to you and brought your hand to his lips. He kissed the tops of your fingers and it warmed you to your toes.

“I need you in my life,” he told you.

For a moment, nothing else mattered. It was just you and Gwilym in this moment together. A moment that might have lasted a second or one hundred years. You had no idea. You were certain you had never felt more loved than you did now. 

“That was excellent, you two,” Dr. McHale praised. “You actually communicate with each other very well, and I can see your willingness to work to make your marriage as successful as possible. I’m very impressed. You should repeat these affirmations to each other daily.”

You both turned eyes on her and thanked her.

“Is there anything else you want to say to each other?” she asked.

You and Gwil locked eyes again. 

“I love you,” you said in unison, and you both chuckled.

“Wonderful,” she praised. “Now, Y/N, could you step out for a few minutes? There are some things I’d like to discuss with Gwilym.”

You frowned. After sharing this with him, you wanted to be close to him. How you didn’t kiss the life out of him just now, you had no idea, but you hated to have such a breakthrough only to be separated right after. Gwilym looked similarly disappointed.

“It won’t be for too long,” she told you. “I just want to get more clarity on his story.”

“Alright, then,” you sighed. You looked at Gwil. “Help me up?”

“Of course,” he answered.

He got to his feet, beaming that you’d asked him, and he assisted you out of the chair. Getting up and down was incredibly difficult now that your belly was so round. Gwilym kissed your cheek as he opened the door for you and you giggled. With one last look at Dr. McHale, you left. Gwilym closed the door behind you with a wistful smile. He missed you already.

“So, Gwilym,” Dr. McHale said, pulling him back from his reverie. “How are you feeling in your marriage to Y/N?”

“Excellent, thanks to you,” he replied.

She smiled and looked at the floor. Pink rose to her cheeks.

“You flatter me,” she said.

“No, really, thank you for getting her to that place,” he went on.

She smirked. “Well, how were you feeling before coming today? Was there a part of you that resented Y/N?”

“No,” he answered, brow furrowing. “Why would I resent her?”

“Well, she’s allowed her experience to come between you,” she explained. “She even stood you up when you were supposed to meet. Weren’t you angry?”

“I was hurt,” he explained. “But I understood. So no, I wasn’t angry.”

“You have a healthy way of dealing with things,” she said. “I like that in a man.”

Gwilym blinked before shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He cleared his throat.

“Thanks, I suppose.”

A beat passed.

“But to be clear, Y/N didn’t let her experience come between us, she was abused,” he said. “Brutally so. She can’t help her trauma.”

“I know that,” she answered. “But that doesn’t mean you should be an emotional dumping ground. Your feelings should be catered to as well.”

“Y/N cares deeply about my feelings,” he protested.

“Yes, but is she allowing you to fully express them? Are your…” She placed her hand on his thigh. “Are your needs being met?”

Gwilym scowled at her and shoved her hand away.

“I don’t believe this,” he snapped, getting to his feet. “You just witnessed how much I love my wife. Did you honestly think this would work?”

“Can’t hurt to try,” she returned with a shrug.

Anger surged in his chest and he took a breath to keep from yelling.

“It could hurt a lot of people!” he shot back. “Y/N, our daughters, myself! You’re a family counselor, dammit, you know that better than anyone!”

She looked away, stung, but he didn’t care in the least that he’d hurt her feelings. What she was doing was so fucked up, he barely had the words for it.

“My wife has been betrayed by a lot of people,” he said levelly. “I don’t know how she’ll trust anyone after this.”

He left the office, slamming the door behind him. He stormed out to the waiting room, where he found you browsing through a magazine. You started to smile, but it disappeared quickly when you saw his face.

“What happened?” you wondered, worry suddenly coursing through you.

“We’re leaving,” he said firmly, heading straight for the door.

“Gwil, wait!” you cried, struggling to get up from the chair. 

You managed to get to your feet and you waddled out the door as fast as you could go, but your husband’s long strides had him waiting for you by the car at least thirty seconds before you caught up to him. You were out of breath as he helped you into the passenger seat. You watched nervously as he crossed to the drivers side, climbed in, and shut the door harshly. A million questions went through your mind.

“Gwilym, please,” you said. “What happened?”

“She made a pass at me,” he returned as he whipped out of the parking lot.

You felt like you’d been punched in the chest. The woman who was supposed to make your family strong had tried to ruin it.

“W...what?” you breathed out.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a sigh. “It happened quickly, and I -”

“Gwilym,” you cut across him, voice trembling with the emotions lodged in your throat. “I need you to tell me exactly what the fuck happened in that room.”

He relayed the whole thing to you. You listened carefully, trying not to cry. How could this be? It was beyond wrong. As you pulled into the driveway, you were still speechless.

“I don’t think this nullifies what we accomplished in there,” he said, cutting the engine.

“Are you kidding?” you returned. “Of course it nullifies that.”

“Why?” he argued. “She was still doing her job while you were in the room.”

“Yeah, all while thinking about doing a totally different kind of job on my husband!” you countered.

To your surprise, Gwilym laughed.

“That might be the worst joke you’ve ever told,” he said lightly.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

He took your hand. “Listen, darling. I still think she gave you a powerful way of thinking about things. I can’t tell you how much it meant that you couldn’t imagine...violence from me.”

You looked down at your lap, doubtful.

“I dunno, Gwil,” you said. “I feel like it was one step forward and two steps back.”

“That’s still one step forward,” he replied. “Let’s work with it, okay?”

“I’ll try,” you promised.

Skepticism seeped into your heart. Could you really trust the words from a woman who tried to sleep with your husband the moment you were out the door? You weren’t sure you could. As you and Gwilym went to bed that night, you considered asking him to go through the affirmations once more. But then the hurt of what Dr. McHale did blocked any further desire to do it. So you just kissed his cheek and curled up beside him to go to sleep, hoping things would be better in the morning.

[fatalezr]

Empire State

Lauren had been to New York City six times previously but it never failed to amaze her as to how crowded Times Square was, particularly in the evening. There were throngs of tourists everywhere, yellow taxi cabs nearby honking their horns and the array of mascots and men in giant costumes hawking for photographs. She stood in the middle of all the lights and smiled - she loved this city and it was nice to leave her home in the UK for a short while for some work. She looked beneath her black leather gloves and checked her watch. It was 7:30pm. Her date would be arriving soon. She wrapped up in her brown overcoat to keep warm from the Autumn air and made sure her wide-brimmed hat was secure on her head. She waved and smiled as she saw Alex approaching.

Alex Hopkins weaved through the crowds and returned her wave. He was wearing a tailored blue suit under a long grey coat and carried a heavy black leather suitcase. Lauren thought he looked very handsome, with his dark hair gelled back. He was 41 years old and a successful diamond dealer who normally lived in Surrey in the UK. He thought they had met by chance one evening in London as he was getting a drink after work but Lauren had planned the encounter for a couple of weeks. She had heard that he was unhappy in his marriage and it did not take long for the two to become involved in an affair. Alex had travelled to New York two days previously to work on some deals while Lauren was to join him today for a couple of days.

"Lauren!" he said excitedly, "I'm so glad you made it!" He kissed her passionately.

"The joy is all mine, my love" she replied, "how have your meetings been?"

"The usual" he said, smiling. "A lot of old men, a lot of talking".

"But a lot of success?" she asked.

"Absolutely! We closed the transaction today". He leaned closer and whispered in her ear "I actually have it with me in the case".

"That's fantastic darling, I'm so pleased." She kissed him again. "Where shall we go?"

"Well my hotel is only a couple of blocks from here, and I'm dying to see you without that coat on. The last week has been too long".

Lauren chuckled. "By all means, lead on".

Alex took her arm and they strolled towards the Intercontinental, where he had booked a suite with a view of the Empire State Building. They talked of Alex's trip so far, the places he had been, the long hours he had to work in order to secure the diamonds. "I've told my wife it will still be another few days before the deal is finalised, so we can spend all that time together" he told her as they entered the hotel. "The company knows I wanted to take some leave, so no disruptions to our plans".

Excellent, thought Lauren. No disturbances would be ideal. They reached the suite and Alex hung up his and Lauren's coat, revealing her black blouse and stylish grey woollen skirt that just covered the top of her black leather boots. Alex put the briefcase on the table in the room and undid his tie while she took her boots off. He kissed Lauren again and moved her towards the bed. "God I've missed you" he said.

"Oh Alex" Lauren moaned as his hands ran over her back. She broke free from his embrace. "What time do we need to head for dinner?"

"I've got us booked downstairs in an hour" he told her. "In fact, I've asked a friend to join us. Kit Wittenhouse, he's an old friend from Oxford".

"How delightful!" Lauren said, "is this the Congressman Kit Wittenhouse?"

"That's right. He's in town for a few days before heading back to DC. Is that OK?"

"Of course" replied Lauren, "I'm not used to dining with politicians though".

"Just make sure your purse stays shut and you'll be fine" joked Alex.

"This evening is going to be very exciting indeed. But Alex" Lauren said, spying the briefcase, "I'm sorry but I do have to ask - can I see the diamond?"

"You want to see it?"

"I'll do you a deal. You reveal the diamond, I'll reveal what I'm wearing underneath" Her hands moved to the top button on her blouse.

Alex laughed. "You should go into my trade. With negotiation like that you'd make a killing". Lauren chuckled to herself at the unintentional pun he had made. She watched carefully as Alex entered the code into the case and unlocked it, noting the numbers without him noticing. He was too distracted and excited by the thought of her. He lifted the top of the case and pulled the diamond out from a velvet bag inside. It was huge, and shimmered under the lights. Lauren was no expert in diamonds but could immediately tell it was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. Alex had purchased it on behalf of a wealthy client in the Middle East who was paying about two million dollars for it. He made to put it in the safe in the room but Lauren put her hand on his arm.

"No my love, let it brighten this room. It's very enticing". She stepped back and undid the buttons on her blouse, letting the black silk fall to the floor. She unzipped her skirt and pushed it slowly down over her hips and legs.

"Oh my god" Alex's mouth was wide open as he looked at Lauren in her green satin lingerie with black polka dots, his eyes working up from her brown stockinged feet to the black suspender belt and her bra. She slipped her thong down her legs and pushed him onto the bed. They embraced and made love passionately. Lauren enjoyed Alex as a lover. He kept himself in good shape and was attentive to her needs as well as his own. They finished together, moaning loudly and collapsed in each other's arms, Alex stroking her blonde hair. They laughed and joked as they dressed and got ready for dinner, Alex donning a jacket, shirt and trousers again while Lauren changed privately in the bathroom into new lingerie and a long navy blue evening dress. "Can't I watch you get dressed?" he had asked.

"No my love, I want your imagination running wild over dinner" she had replied.

They arrived in the hotel dining room on time and did not have to wait long until they were joined by Kit Wittenhouse. The congressman embraced Alex and kissed Lauren's hand before they sat down together. The two men reminisced about their university days and Kit talked of his work in Congress. He had first been elected five years ago as an idealistic Republican but had instead found the world of politics to be murkier than he realised. "You want to know who really controls this city? It's the mob" he had said at one point. They talked of Alex's business dealings and Kit suggested he might have a few contacts for him, although he hinted that they may not be the most reputable of people. Lauren gathered that he had been asked to vote for a few proposals in Congress that benefitted the mob, but in return he received no trouble from them. At the end of dinner, Alex invited Kit to his room for an extra drink or two. They opened a bottle of Scotch and talked together about New York and the problems facing it. Kit leaned close to Alex.

"Don't worry" he assured him, "I'm going to see that change happens".

"How so?" asked Alex.

"There are three families currently controlling the city right. Tony Falcano, Lorenzo Picenza and Gio Gambelli. Falcano's probably got the biggest share right now and he's a nasty son-of-a-bitch. Got about three massacres tied to him this year". Lauren listened intently as he spoke. She knew some of the details already but any extra intelligence was always useful. "Well I'm brokering a kind of alliance you might say between Picenza and Gambelli. I'm pushing to city to appoint a new police chief and trying to get federal resources to investigate Tony Falcano".

"Who knows about this so far?"

"Just me, Picenza and Gambelli. You have to keep things real tight in this city."

"And what's in it for you?"

"Besides taking out one of the three families? Let's just say the other two can be a lot more generous with their campaign contributions". Kit and Alex both laughed and drank some more scotch until with half a bottle gone, they decided to call it a night. Alex wished him well and hoped they'd be able to see one another soon. Kit embraced Lauren and told her it was a pleasure to meet her. He put his coat on and left the room.

"What a charming friend" Lauren remarked as Alex closed the door, "although does he know what he's doing siding with two of the families?"

"That's Kit. Always been ambitious to make his mark in the world" replied Alex. "But now my love, the rest of the night I am all yours".

Lauren giggled. "I can't wait". She spied Alex's briefcase still on the table with the diamond inside. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable and I'll slip in to something a little more appropriate". She winked at Alex, grabbed her handbag and went into the bathroom.

"You bet!" he said, starting to unbutton his shirt.

Lauren locked the door and unzipped her dress, letting it fall to the floor. She was wearing a matching white bra, knickers and a tight suspender belt that held up her brown stockings. She took a second to admire herself in the mirror and smiled. This was always the part of her plans she enjoyed the most - the arousal she felt as she prepared to kill. She adjusted a seam here or there before going in to her handbag and pulling out a silver Taurus PT92 and a thick nine inch silver suppressor. She licked her lips as she slowly screwed it on to the gun, delicately twisting the silver tube between her fingers. It added weight to the gun but she knew it would be as quiet as possible. She slowly pulled back the slide to silently chamber the first round and made sure the safety was off. She reached into her bag for a final time and pulled out a spare 15 round magazine, placing it in the inside leg of her right stocking.

She opened the door slowly, keeping her gun behind her back but letting Alex savour the look of her. He was on the bed and had stripped down to a pair of black Calvin Klein trunks. He looked in awe of the sight of her and the bulge in his trunks began to grow. Lauren was almost tempted to take him there and then for one final time but knew this was her best chance to get the diamond and escape. She opened the door fully.

Alex was almost speechless. "Oh my God love, you look...you look..."

"Good enough to die for?" she purred softly. Her right hand moved from behind her back with the suppressed Taurus and she levelled it at Alex. Her left hand supported the butt of the gun. His face changed in an instant from excitement to shock and then horror as the situation dawned on him. He opened his mouth to speak.

Pfft-pfft. Lauren didn't give him a chance to say anything, carressing the trigger twice in quick succession and shooting him in the chest. The room was silent, the shell casings simply bouncing on to the carpeted floor. Alex's hands went to his wounds but he could make no sound. Pfft, pfft, pfft. Alex's chest was filled with three more bullet holes as Lauren continued caressing the trigger. She controlled the recoil from the gun expertly, the training with the heavy weapon paying off. "Oh god" Lauren said to herself as she felt her passions stirring. She took two steps towards her stricken lover and took a wide stance, loving the feel of her stockinged feet on the soft floor. She leaned forward and aimed towards Alex's toned belly. Pfft, pfft, pfft, pfft. She pumped the trigger some more, moaning more loudly after each one. Alex had flopped back on the bed, staining the cream sheets. Lauren took a second to lower the gun and touch the suppressor against the front of her knickers. It was warm and intensified every feeling within her. She used her left hand to touch her breast, massaging it within her bra cup. She could not control her lust and moaned louder. She raised the gun again and a wild frenzy took over within her. She gripped it with both hands and found herself rapidly fingering the trigger pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-click-click, until the gun was empty and Alex's torso was a mess of bulletholes. "Oh fuck" she moaned loudly, and she stumbled to a wall to try and regain her composure. Her pants were almost soaked through. Lauren had always enjoyed killing but tonight she knew was special. Whether it was her lover or the diamond or the beauty of the hotel room and her within it, every sense within her was on fire. She savoured it, moaning softly to herself as she began to control her breathing.

After a couple of deep breaths, she ejected the empty clip from her Taurus and reached into her stocking to put in a full one. She went to the briefcase that was still not in the safe in the room and clicked it open. The diamond glimmered before her and Lauren took a few seconds to appreciate it's beauty before putting it inside its velvet bag and slipping it inside the top of her stocking. She put the briefcase inside the safe in the room and picked her own random combination. It would be a while before anyone found Alex in the room and even longer before they realised the diamond was missing - plenty of time for her to arrange its transport to her buyer in the city. She started towards the bathroom when there was a knocking on the bedroom door from outside. She froze for a second, wondering who it could be. The suite was the only room on its floor and between her well-crafted rounds and the suppressor, she was confident no-one had heard the shots. "Who is it?" she called out.

"It's Kit" came the muffled reply of the Congressman outside. "Sorry, I think I left my case in here." Lauren looked around the room briefly and saw it. She almost swore to herself - how had she not seen it tucked under the table. "I just need to grab it" Kit called.

"One second" said Lauren. Her mind raced. She hid her gun behind her back and cracked open the door, poking her head around. "Sorry Kit, you startled me".

"Bad timing?" he asked, smiling.

"Well" Lauren replied, smiling and trying to look a little bashful. She opened the door a crack more, giving a slight view to Kit of her lingerie.

"Oh, very bad timing I see!" he said, "well, if I can grab it, I'll leave you two be for the night". He made to enter the room. Lauren blocked him.

"Alex isn't decent" she said, winking at Kit.

"Nothing I didn't see in college" said Kit. "I'll be quick". He pushed past Lauren and entered the room. He headed for the table where he had left the case but stopped after a few paces as he saw Alex's bloodied body on the bed. "What the fuck?" He turned towards Lauren, stunned, but she shut the door quickly and chambered a round in her gun.

"I did warn you Kit, he's not decent".

"You fucking bitch, what have you done?"

"I'm sorry, this isn't how I wanted this to go down". Lauren steadied the weight of her gun. Kit stared at her.

"You're going to shoot me, a Congressman?" he asked incredulously. Lauren weighed the options. Could she leave him here? He would find a way to make noise and call for help - it would ruin her window for moving the diamond. But killing Kit? What would happen to his deal with the mob families? Could they come after her? She hesitated a moment, but then her eye caught movement from Kit's hand. He was reaching in to his jacket.

Pfft-Pfft. She shot twice before he had a chance to retrieve anything. His hand fell out of his jacket, clutching the end of a black Glock handgun he was pulling from a holster. Pfft, pfft, pfft. Lauren made sure he was unable to use it with three more shots to his chest. Kit fell backwards and the gun fell out of his hand. Lauren moved towards him and kicked it clear. She placed her stockinged foot on his crotch and saw his face squirm. She relished the moment of power she had over him and saw desperation in his eyes.

"Goodnight Kit" she purred. Pfft. She placed a final bullet in his head and felt him go limp. She breathed deeply for a few seconds and allowed herself a brief moment to enjoy the feel of her erect nipple between her fingers. She knew she needed to move quickly, not just to get the diamond to her buyer but also to find somewhere to stay where there could be no retribution from Kit's mob allies. She went to the bathroom and disassembled the Taurus and it's suppressor. She placed them and the diamond in her handbag and quickly dressed into a polka dot dress that she covered with her coat. She put on her boots and walked out of the room, remembering to leave the “do not disturb” sign on the room door.

Outside the hotel she flagged a yellow cab and headed to downtown Manhattan and a small flat she had rented on Airbnb in Greenwich village. It was small but manageable for what she thought would be a short trip. Little did she know, her Empire State visit was just beginning...

[kabhi-haath-pakad-k-tu-mera]

If The Stars Align In Our Favour

Ch.4 The Consequences

                            "... your conscience up in flames."

_/\_/\_

It has been two days since the incident. The heads of both East and West are furious with the Guerilla attackers from the East who, as per the latest news, have blown up the bridges in the East with the help of weapons supplied from back home. To add fuel to the fire, Pakistan has lost crucial intelegencia information in the actual fire. Sehmat is presented with the menfolk coming home with news. Within a month, they'll be at the border against India in both the East and West. Her expression is purposefully neutral when that piece of information is being discussed, even as Iqbal glances at her.

There is a blanket ban on civilians moving in and out of the cantonment which had been imposed hours after the fire incidence—to make sure that if the culprits are inside the cantonment they cannot get out, and no help given to them from outside. A headcount is being conducted of everyone inside the cantonment. All calls are being monitored for that purpose also, movement should be allowed soon, but until then she only has her thoughts.

With no communication, there is no way for her to know if her allies are secure, or if Mir Sahab has made it out unscathed. There is no way for her to contact South. She is fairly positive, however, that Mir Sahab is fine, wherever he is. He is a seasoned agent; he's been doing this job for years now. If memory serves her right, he had been in a similar situation a few years ago. So she buries her small sprout of worry to the far back of her mind, and focuses instead on things that she thinks are more pressingly worrying. Including whether or not she is with child, and whether the father of, said child, would make it out of the war alive to be able to see them.

They haven't been able to visit the doctor as planned due to the current restrictions, but with every passing second Sehmat is more sure that she is pregnant. She has spent hours tracking and re-tracking the dates and weeks, and several others trying to coax out of her sister-in-law what symptoms of pregnancy are without causing her too much pain. She is very helpful, of course, because that is just what she is like, but Sehmat cannot unsee the melancholia that descends upon Munira every time they talk about a child.

Iqbal has barely spent more than three hours at a stretch at home since the past two days, and those are spent in eating and catching up on sleep, so she really hasn't had a chance to talk to him either. However, she is not completely sure what she would say to him if she did get the chance—she isn't even sure yet. But the restrictions on movement are ending tomorrow, and Munira has already booked an appointment with her doctor, so she supposes she'll find out soon enough.

_/\_/\_

She is lying awake in bed in the middle of the night when he comes in from work, and in spite of the darkness she can see that Iqbal is tired. His shoulders are sagged and he deposits his possessions on the futon with such an intensity that Sehmat can feel his frustration. She knows the reason for this, of course, the upcoming war—for which they will depart in less than a fortnight—but she has to admit that seeing him so desolate is very disconcerting.

"Would you like dinner?" she asks quietly after a moment.

He looks in her general direction in the dark in what she assumes is surprise and says, with the slightest hint of a smile in his tired voice, "I thought you were asleep."

Sehmat smiles back, not that he can see it. "I never am, am I?"

Iqbal does eventually agree to eat, and once she has gotten out of bed and turned on the lights, she comes to know that it is past one. She remains downstairs to provide him company even as he tells her to go back to sleep, knowing that she is not going to get any, whether in bed or not. She thinks instead of the child—if one exists.

If it does, it will change everything drastically. What would she do then? She'd have to be a lot more careful ... If she is completely honest, she is sacred. Scared of this new development, if it really is … Because what of her job? If, ever in the future, she is discovered, what will become of her child?

She looks towards Iqbal, whose features are tired and distracted. Right now is probably not the best time to have a child, in such an uncertain environment. She then mentally scoffs at herself—as if there will ever be a good time for them to have a child. She chides herself immediately after—whatever their nationality, they are still a wed couple.

To have a child should have been a 'thought out decision', Sehmat thinks. But what has been done cannot be undone. And under no circumstance would she consider aborting. There still remains the question, however, of how Iqbal might react to the news—'If there is news,' part of her brain tells her, and she shushes it. The prospect of his reacting with anything except joy is very real, and her heart constricts at the thought.

Even after returning to bed Sehmat doesn't immediately fall asleep, whether due to nervousness for the next day, or some other reason she is not sure. But she lies in bed for that time thinking about what would happen if she were with child. Ma would be happy, she thinks, if only she could tell her. No letters are being sent home right now, and no calls are being directed there. Nothing will change in that regard, at least until the war ends.

_/\_/\_

Sehmat is nervous when she wakes up the next day, though she tries not to show it, and there is a strange sort of excitement in her stomach as she opens her eyes. Iqbal is asleep beside her, which is a surprise after days of consistent absence during these hours. She slips off the bed silently, careful not to disturb him, and sets about beginning her day.

She descends into the kitchen, which is occupied by Salma and Munira, the latter of whom smiles upon noticing her presence.

"Nervous?" she whispers to her while stirring a pan in an effort to efficiently fry whole spices, the smell of which is making Sehmat nauseous. Sehmat nods with a grimace and turns to get herself some water, following which she situates herself at the far end of the kitchen.

"We'll leave after breakfast," Munira says over her shoulder as Salma rushes out with the breakfast dishes when she notes Abba's arrival. "Abba and Miyaan are both very worked up today," she adds, watching the helper leave.

"Why?" Sehmat asks, both out of curiosity and self-preservation.

Munira scoffs and turns off the stove, much to Sehmat's relief. "Why do you think? Whoever is responsible for the fire has not yet been caught, and is obviously not in the cantonment. The attack has lowered the soldiers' morale, and they need to leave to prepare for war—within two weeks."

She begins to gather the toast and Sehmat grabs the jug of juice, following her out to the dining table from where Abba has already risen and Mehboob bhaijaan is just sitting down to eat.

"Are you leaving already?" Sehmat asks Abba, noting that the clock shows only seven, and Abba normally leaves at nine.

"There's a lot going on in the country, child," he replies distractedly.

"Should I wake Miyaan?"

"No—Iqbal had come home very late last night—let him sleep a while longer."

_/\_/\_

Iqbal does not, in fact, sleep any longer and is awake before Sehmat has entered her bedroom. After another hour he has left, and it is just her and Munira. They are also preparing to leave. Sehmat sits on her bed for a while before she leaves the bedroom, feeling her nervousness spread until all parts of her body are functioning only on adrenaline. She rubs her face and sighs. She thought she had made peace with her situation somewhat, but the uncertainty has returned.

She finally makes it downstairs, where Munira bhabhi is waiting, and together they walk towards the foyer. Sehmat is thankful as her sister-in-law gives her a reassuring smile.

There is more security around the cantonment, Sehmat notes, as the car stops at a check post inside the cantonment and then again at a check post outside it. The clinic is situated in a more urban area than the ones she usually travels to—towards the heart of the city. Despite taking a new route to a new destination, Sehmat cannot bring herself to look out of the window or enjoy the sights. She fiddles instead with the zip of her purse and tries not to think about her circumstance or the persistent butterflies in her stomach.

This does not go unnoticed by Munira, who gently holds Sehmat's hand. It's in a calm but serious voice that she says, "It's all going to be fine, Sehmat."

Munira might not know what aspects of having a child Sehmat is worried about, but her words do have a calming effect on her. So much so, that it makes her take in a deep breath and nod gratefully at her companion.

Sehmat takes a moment before she gets out of the car upon finally reaching their destination—a three-storied structure which is entirely a clinic—and before she walks towards it she looks over it apprehensively.

"We'll be about an hour," Munira tells the driver, and squeezes Sehmat's hand lightly.

"This is it," she says, "The moment of truth."

There is excitement in Munira's eyes, but unlike a few minutes ago, this sentence serves only to further deepen Sehmat's doubts. She takes a few deep breaths as if to brace herself, and then the two women walk into the clinic.

_/\_/\_

Sehmat is fidgeting in her seat across from the doctor and beside Munira. The two women make light conversation while they wait for the result to come back. Sehmat has filled out three different forms and a questionnaire. She is then given two different tests in the fifteen minutes that she has already been there. She suspects the fact that she is part of the Syed household to be the reason her test is being conducted immediately. She has heard of women having to wait for two to three days before getting their results, so she supposes she really shouldn't be complaining—and she's not.

She's simply very concerned. About the child, about herself, about her job, and about Iqbal. She is not quite sure if her testing positive would be a good thing. Probably not, as far as her mission is concerned. And it is an unexpected surprise, which she cannot help but feel has dropped at the wrong moment. She does think she would be hugely disappointed if she were to test negative, however, because this child—or, at the very least, the idea of this child—has grown on her. She feels quite protective over it. There also remains the question of what she would tell Iqbal. Should she say anything at all, if she tests negative? And would it be prudent to tell him right now, if she tests positive? And more importantly, what of the vague 'options' that Mir Sahab had been talking of? She is sufficiently positive that he intends to send her back home as soon as possible, perhaps for good. A child would not help.

She gnaws at her lip as she contemplates her questions, and bites it hard enough to draw blood when the assistant steps into the room, a file in hand. She swipes her tongue over her lips, tasting the metallic blood, and watches anxiously as the doctor reads the file, not even daring to breathe. She feels Munira's hand take hold of hers, and vaguely realizes that they are both on the same level of ... excited nervousness.

The doctor finally shuts the file and says with a kind smile as both women draw in their breath, "Congratulations, Mrs. Syed. You are with child."

_/\_/\_

A Masterlist of All Chapters with links will follow if you want to read those thanks :)

Glossary

Ma : Mother

Abba : Father

Bhaijaan : Brother

Miyaan : Here, husband.

Bhabhi : Sister-in-law (brother's wife)

Phool chadar : A sheet of knitted flowers used as offerings for worship.

Rajma : Kidney beans

Kabuli Chane : Chickpeas

Assalam aalekum : 'Peace be upon you', an Arabic greeting

Chachi : Aunt

Walaikum assalam : 'And unto you be peace', an Arabic greeting

Beta : here, Child

Ammi : Mother

Mohtarma : Madam

Choti Begum : 'Choti' means younger, and 'Begum' is the title of a married Muslim woman, equivalent to Mrs. Together in this context they refer to Sehmat being the younger daughter-in-law of the house.

[decandantfics]

Safe Haven - You are My Strength

The date was 30 March, 2019. The time, 3:30am. All was quiet in the houses of a stately Chiswick street. At least, it was until 3:31am. In one particular home, a couple lay spooned together, the man wrapped around the woman as quiet snores escaped his mouth. A small Dachshund lay curled up on a pillow just behind the man's head, and at first glance, the sausage dog appeared to be asleep. If you were to look more closely, you would realize that the dog's eyes were, in fact, open, trained worriedly on his master. On the outside, the man appeared to be slumbering peacefully. But that illusion was cruelly broken as he awoke with a shout, startling his wife as she shot out of his arms in shock. For his part, the little dog had scrambled to his feet at his master's shout, and was now whining anxiously as he took in the scene in front of him. The man had started sobbing and shaking within moments of waking, and was now being held securely by his wife. She was trying her very best to comfort and reassure him – something she'd gotten quite good at over the past 12 ½ months – while worriedly straining her ears for any signs of their nearly 7-month old baby having been disturbed by the commotion. Unfortunately for her – and her husband – a loud wailing was soon crackling through the baby monitor, drowning out the quiet sobs that still wrenched themselves out of the man's chest. The woman was now left with a serious dilemma – both her husband and her child needed her attention right at that very moment, and she couldn't bear to leave one in favor of the other. As her husband became more aware of his surroundings, he seemed to realize that there was another distressed person in the home, just a room away. Shoulders still shuddering with suppressed sobs, the man wearily pushed himself up on his elbow while muttering a broken, "I'm sorry," to his wife. Despite her vehement protests that she could go, the man simply shook his head and slid out of bed, shoulders slumped and eyes still filled with tears as he trudged out of the room to tend to his daughter's needs. The man was Declan Donnelly, and the woman Ali Astall Donnelly.

Ali's gaze followed her husband worriedly as the broken man moved past her and out of the room. Sighing, she knew exactly why her sleep had been interrupted tonight: the emotionally charged interview her husband and his best friend had given was being released in The Guardian later that morning. Dec had had a particularly tough time of it in the nights immediately prior to and especially following the interview – the wounds of the past year having been reopened as he was forced to relive what he had gone through. Dec had been so incredibly drained by the time he arrived home after the interview – deep lines of exhaustion and sadness marking his face in grim resemblance to how he had looked almost every single day in 2018 after his life had been turned upside down. He was so utterly exhausted that he'd not even been able to muster the energy to eat the dinner Ali'd prepared for him, instead curling up on their couch, his head on Ali's lap, falling into a deep but restless sleep while Ali ate her food in silence. There had been nightmares that night, too – far more than she cared to remember, in fact – resulting in both her and Dec looking and feeling like zombies by the following morning. And now the nightmares had returned again, although this time they were brought on by anxiety rather than by ripping the scabs off of his slowly healing mental and emotional sores. Ali was gently distracted from her thoughts by the sound of Dec quietly singing a lullaby to their child in a raw, trembling voice that still hiccupped occasionally with a broken off sob. The baby's cries had subsided as soon as her father had taken her into his arms, and it was obvious that, despite his current distress, his mere presence had lulled her into a contented silence. Ali smiled sadly – their daughter Isla was one of the few reasons her husband had actually made it through the past year without giving up hope and falling fully into the deep abyss of depression that had haunted him for so many months. If not for Isla, Ali might be faced with a very different reality today. Her husband's struggle with mental health had been very real over the past 12 months –and it had terrified her out of her wits on more than one occasion. He was slowly recovering now, due in no small part to the return to his life of his best friend of 30 years, Ant McPartlin. Dec hadn't wanted Ant to know how much he was struggling without his friend by his side, but Ant had seen right through him the very first time they met up after Ant was released from hospital. And that had been the best thing that ever happened to Dec. Ali had been trying desperately to get him to go see his psychotherapist, but even though he acknowledged he needed help, he couldn't seem to gather the courage to make an appointment. And forcing him to go was out of the question – if Declan Donnelly didn't want to do something, there was no arguing with him; and if you tried to force or trick him into doing something he didn't want to do, an angry explosion would knock you clean off your feet and stop you in your tracks. No, Dec was a very, very stubborn man, and if he had set his mind against something, there was nothing you could do to change that. Unless, of course, you happened to be Ant McPartlin.

As soon as Ant had caught on to the fact that Dec was in a really, really bad place mentally, he had given Dec a dressing down for ignoring his own needs, and had made an appointment for Dec, while Dec had apparently just sat there open-mouthed. And that was when the weekly – and sometimes bi-weekly, if he was having an especially tough time – therapy sessions had begun. Ant had had to threaten Dec over the phone the day of his first scheduled appointment in order to force him out of the relative safety of his home and into the psychotherapist's office. But after that first session, Dec had realized that the therapy sessions weren't as scary as they had seemed at the outset, and the long, extremely emotional conversations with the therapist actually helped a bit to organize the painful thoughts and feelings swirling in his psyche. Ali was so incredibly grateful to Ant for his insistence at helping her husband to take that first step towards trying to heal his fractured mind. Without Ant's assistance, she shuddered to think what might have happened....

Several minutes of silence had now passed – Dec's voice having stilled in response to Isla's relaxation in his arms as she fell back asleep. He should have been back in bed by now, though, and Ali was a little bit worried. Deciding to check on her husband, Ali stole across the landing to their daughter's room, a loving smile lighting her eyes as she took in the sight in front of her. Dec was fast asleep, reclining in the rocking chair in the corner of the room, clutching a snoozing Isla to his chest, a small, contented smile on both of their faces. Ali's heart swelled with affection for her little family, and she tiptoed out of the room, back to her bed to try for a couple more hours of sleep.

Later that morning, Dec and Ali found themselves in a battle of wills as they argued over who should take Rocky out for a walk. Dec was feeling incredibly vulnerable now that the interview had gone out to the nation, and wanted nothing to do with the outside world. There would be paparazzi lurking, he argued, and he couldn't bear to face their unwanted attention right now. In the end, Dec got his way, and Ali took their little dog out for a morning stroll while Dec looked after Isla. Ali understood, she got it, and didn't mind doing this small favor for her husband, even though she worried about what it meant for his damaged psyche. Her concern only deepened as, with each day that passed, they had the same conversation – Dec absolutely refusing to leave the house for even the simplest of things. It was on the fourth day of stubborn refusals from Dec that Ali finally put her foot down. Dec couldn't spend the rest of his life hiding away just because there might be paparazzi waiting for him out there – after all, he'd dealt with them almost daily for much of the past year, she reminded him, trying really hard to ignore the painful wince that comment produced as Dec was transported back to the horror of that year. Ali had eventually convinced Dec to take Rocky for his morning walk by placing his AirPods, Rocky's leash (she knew how difficult it was for Dec to ignore Rocky's pleading puppy eyes), and his phone and keys into his hands. The AirPods were what ultimately sold Dec on the idea of going outside, as their noise canceling would provide some solace in case of paparazzi ambushing him, drowning out their cries and the incessant clicking of the cameras. Normally, he would just listen to the sweet sounds of birdsong during his walks along the peaceful streets of Chiswick, but today, his favorite music playlist would – hopefully – provide him with the illusion of privacy that he so desperately needed to feel safe.

Dec had left the house about half an hour ago, and was actually enjoying his walk along a particularly secluded street – he had made some adjustments to his normal walking route, hoping to avoid any attention from either passersby or skulking paparazzi – when it happened. Out of the corner of his eye, Dec became aware of movement to his right, across the street. Paparazzi. In horror, Dec watched as their lips moved – clearly, they were shouting questions at him that he, mercifully, couldn't hear – and camera shutters flashed as they snapped photo after photo of his stricken face. The intense vulnerability Dec had been feeling since Saturday returned full force, causing him to slightly hunch his shoulders and pull his cap even further down over his eyes, trying desperately to hide. He glared at the paparazzi – how dare they ruin his walk! – but the anguish which he had squashed down for so long was returning rapidly, its push to the surface inevitable as it sucked him down, down, down into its deep pit of mental torment. His gaze was now pain-filled as he tried to shrink into the collar of his vest, his body curling in on itself in an attempt to protect him from the helplessness that came with his rising panic. He quickened his pace, desperate to get away from the flashing cameras that were eating away at him, leaving him feeling exposed as they captured him and laid bare his vulnerability. Powerless to do anything to ease his distress other than attempting to remove himself from the situation as quickly as possible, Dec turned his face away from the cameras, his mouth grimacing as he blew out a tense breath. He was feeling more panicked by the second, his breaths quickening as his mind was clouded with an urgent sense of endangerment. Without thinking, his ever hastening feet took him in a direction opposite to his own home. A bit of an odd decision, given that one might think he was craving the safety offered behind the closed door and blinds of his mansion. But no, there was only one thing his agonized heart and mind needed right now, and he found himself walking numbly in its direction, not really aware of what he was doing.

Nearly two hours later, Dec was startled to find himself at the closed gate of a familiar-looking front garden. Wait, what? It was as if he was coming out of a trance, his mind puzzled by what it had done. Incredulously, Dec stared at the house in front of him – Ant's house – before checking his watch. Had he really just walked all the way here? Was it possible the panic in his mind had blacked out all thoughts of reason, instead relentlessly pushing him in the direction of the only succor to the pain he was suffering? Shaking his head dumbly, the sensation of something cutting into his palm caught his attention, and he opened his tight fist to find a leash, only to realize that a thoroughly tired out Rocky was panting next to him, tongue lolling out in exhaustion but tail wagging excitedly. The opening of the gate in front of him shook him out of his stupefied state, a familiar hand taking hold of his arm and gently pulling him behind the garden wall, away from the prying eyes of the world. Dec's wide-eyed gaze rose to meet Ant's concerned one, puzzlement still written all over his face. "Dec, what are you doing, man?" Ant's worried voice broke through the haze in Dec's mind as he stuttered out, "I...I...I don't know, Ant," continuing in bewilderment, "I guess I walked here?"

Ant was beyond troubled by Dec's obvious confusion and disorientation. This wasn't like his best mate at all, usually the less impulsive of the two of them, taking the time to think things through reasonably before making a decision. Ant had first become aware of Dec's presence outside his gate when Hurley started barking madly inside the house, wagging his tail in excitement as he stared out at his tiny best friend. A dark coil of worry had formed in Ant's abdomen when he had seen Dec standing outside his gate with Rocky, seemingly unaware of where he was or what he was doing. He hadn't been expecting Dec today, not that that mattered any – they would sometimes drop in on each other unannounced even now, despite the distance between each other's homes. He and Dec had been in contact over the past few days, and he was aware that Dec was struggling with the public's newfound knowledge of his own mental health struggles of the past year. But he hadn't realized it was quite this bad. Clearly, something bad must have happened to cause his friend to travel 8 miles on foot. Wrapping a warm arm around Dec's shoulders, Ant carefully guided him inside his house, removing his vest for him and unclipping Rocky from his lead as their two dogs held a happy reunion, Bumble and Milo watching for a moment before joining in on the fun. Dec still didn't seem with it, staring blankly into Ant's family room as if seeing it for the first time. "Shoes, Dec," Ant lightly reminded him, prompting Dec to startle slightly before nodding and removing his shoes, setting them on the mat. Glad to have gotten a response from his dazed friend, Ant suggested, "Come on, let's get you a cuppa," while leading Dec through the family room and into the kitchen – unwilling to leave him alone even for a few minutes – seating him at the table before grabbing the kettle and his stash of Dec's favorite tea. Carrying both mugs of tea, Ant motioned for Dec to go ahead of him as they silently entered the family room once again. Dec sank into the plush loveseat – his favorite spot and the most comfortable of all the furnishings in the room – while Ant settled himself down next to his friend, pulling him into his side. They sat without speaking for several minutes, sipping at their tea while lost in their own thoughts, neither one willing to break the uncomfortable silence that had settled in the room. Slowly, ever so slowly, Ant began to feel the tension in Dec's body ebbing away as he finished his tea, and wrapped both arms around his smaller friend, Dec's breaths deepening as he found tranquility in the safety of Ant's arms.

Finally, a quiet, haunted, "They found me," was heard, breaking the stillness of the moment as its meaning hit Ant with resounding clarity. Those bloody paparazzi, Ant cursed in his mind, anger coursing through his veins. He and Dec had both struggled with learning to cope with the sudden attention focused on their everyday lives over the past year and a half, but he knew it had pained Dec more than it had him. At his darkest, Ant had wrestled with the constant imposition of the press on his life, the intense scrutiny causing him to fall deeper into depression, losing himself in its wily pit of self-destruction. But he was mostly protected from the worst of the paparazzi attention last year – he had moved to Wimbledon after his stint in rehab, and it was a much quieter area, less bothered by paparazzi and celebrity spotters wanting to make a few quid by selling photos and stories to the tabloids. Dec, however, had had to deal with paparazzi stalking him almost daily for weeks on end – Dec had told him later that he reckoned he'd never been in the papers so much before – and the feeling of never being able to let his guard down had taken its toll on him. And now, when he was feeling so vulnerable due to admitting to needing counseling to deal with the past year's emotional baggage, Ant could understand why his mind had shut down....And why he had made his way to Ant's without even being aware of it.

Suddenly realizing that Ali was probably wondering where her husband was, Ant questioned softly, "Does Ali know you're here?" even though he already knew the answer would be no. Shaking his head miserably, Dec's wide puppy eyes met Ant's, a pained look in them as he bared his wounded soul to the only person who had ever truly understood him. His heart clenching at the sight, Ant sighed sadly and said, "I'll give her a ring," knowing Dec was in no shape to call her himself. After a brief conversation, reassuring Ali that her husband was alive and – sort of – well, Ant ended the call before turning to his friend yet again. "Do you want to talk about it?" Dec shook his head imperceptibly, biting his lower lip as his eyes filled with tears. "Come here," Ant whispered, pulling Dec to his chest as he broke down, silent tears wetting Ant's jumper as he let out all of his pent up emotions in one fell swoop, body shaking with the force of his ragged breaths. Ant's heart was breaking, but he knew he had to be strong for his friend right now, so he kissed his head, his voice reaching Dec's ears as a gentle rumble in his chest, vibrating through Dec's skull. "It's okay, Dec. It's okay. Just let it all out," Ant whispered soothingly, rubbing Dec's back tenderly as he continued to weep on Ant's chest. Eventually, the trembling of Dec's body eased, his breaths evening out as the last of his tears dripped sluggishly down his cheeks. Voice still wobbling dangerously, Dec managed a muted, "Thank you," his voice muffled as he spoke into Ant's jumper, face tightly pressed to Ant's chest. No reply was necessary as Ant squeezed his friend just a little bit tighter, knowing Dec needed physical reassurance more than verbal right now. Stillness reigned as the two friends clung to each other, each needing the reassurance of the other's touch to feel that everything would actually be okay in the end. Sleep ultimately claimed the emotionally exhausted pair as they relaxed in each other's hold – Dec with his arms wrapped around Ant's middle, head resting on his chest, while Ant continued to completely envelope his smaller friend in the loving fortress of his arms. The safety they felt while in each other's arms was like no other – and as they dozed off, both were aware of the same truth: their greatest strength was each other, and as long as they had that safe haven of love, nothing could ever truly break them.

[bostianesposts]

JOSHUA X MINGYU

Where Mingyu is the CEO of a big company and Joshua is his smitten assistant. Featuring Mingyu’s slightly suspect friends, Boo Seungkwan, Wen Jun, and Choi Seungcheol

Words: 6.318

Joshua sat at his desk with his earphones in. The music in his ears was calm, to help him concentrate. He had been answering emails and scheduling appointments all day.

His boss Kim Mingyu was a great boss… most of the time. Something was just slightly off about him, something Joshua just couldn’t make sense of. Joshua understood that Mingyu demanded to be spoken to as Sir. None of Joshua’s former employers had asked him to do that, but Mingyu was the CEO of his own firm, so this was very different. 

Joshua had found it weird when Mingyu had bought him four expensive suits. “I won’t have my assistant walking around in some cheap suit. I have an image to uphold.” Mingyu had said when giving the suits to Joshua. He understood the donating of proper clothes part, the thing Joshua didn’t understand was why Mingyu had gone to buy them himself, and taken the time to pick them out. 

Joshua’s favourite of the suits was the red one. The pants and jacket had a beautiful deep wine red colour and the shirt was delicate lavender. It was the suit he was wearing today. It was hot in the office, but Joshua was afraid Mingyu would be mad if he took of his jacket so instead he had unbuttoned his shirt slightly exposing the top of his chest. Even though this one was his favourite of the suits it was the first time he wore it at work. He had figured it was too risqué for a normal work day and that Mingyu had intended it for more special occasions like various dinners or possible travels. 

 Then this past Friday Mingyu had stopped Joshua just as he was about to leave. “I haven’t seen you in the red suit yet,” Mingyu paused like he was awaiting an answer. Joshua didn’t know what to reply so he remained silent. “You should wear it Monday” Mingyu finally said and made it sound more like an order than a suggestion. “Of course Sir, will do.” Joshua said hurriedly and took off. Mingyu’s piercing stare could easily intimidate Joshua and make him speechless. 

Despite this the weirdest thing about Mingyu was how he kept Joshua in the dark. It made Joshua’s job a lot harder when there were certain things Mingyu wouldn’t tell Joshua. Sometimes a nagging thought told Joshua it was because not everything in Mingyu’s business was legitimate. Joshua always pushed the thought away and continued his work as normal as possible. 

Joshua’s job would be easier if Mingyu wasn’t so damn captivating. Sometimes just being in the presence of him made Joshua’s mind cloudy. It was something Joshua had to suppress every single day to be able to have somewhat of a clear mind. 

“Will you come in here please?” Mingyu’s voice ripped Joshua away from the music and his computer. “Yes Sir.” Joshua closed his open tabs on the computer as he pushed his chair back. He got up and followed Mingyu into the office.

 “Close the door after you,” Mingyu ordered. Joshua obliged and stepped further into the office. Mingyu’s lean body was sat on the edge of his desk. His suit jacket was flung over the chair normally used for visitors. Mingyu’s shirt was dark navy and unbuttoned further down than Joshua’s. It exposed the toned chest of Mingyu. He was broad over the shoulders and for a fleeting moment Joshua imagined Mingyu in a well fitted t-shirt showing of his broad shoulders and muscular arms. He pushed the image away almost as quickly as it had appeared. 

“My schedule for the next week is completely cramped. What do you expect of me?”

Mingyu said seriously. 

“I’m sorry Sir. You have a lot of people who want to have your attention. I’ll move things around,”

“Please do,” and for a second Joshua thought he saw the hint of a smile in Mingyu’s eyes. “Also I need you to clear out my weekend completely I have some things…” he paused to choose his next words. “That need to be seen to.” 

“Anything I should put in your calendar Sir?” 

“No, not this.”

The two young men fell into silence, they stood like this in what, for Joshua felt like forever. Joshua was just about the excuse himself when Mingyu spoke. 

“The suit looks good on you, but the next time I’ll have you see my tailor.” Mingyu slowly slid off the table as he spoke to Joshua and walked closer to him. Joshua’s heart skipped a beat. There was less than ten inches between him and Mingyu and Mingyu still inched closer.

“Thank you very much Sir.” Joshua’s voice escaped his lips as a whisper and Joshua instantly felt embarrassed.

“Do I make you nervous Joshua?” Mingyu said very slowly, like he was tasting every single word. The way Mingyu said Joshua’s name made his heart race so badly he was afraid Mingyu could hear. 

“No Sir.” Joshua tried to sound confident and unaffected, but he failed.

“It’s okay if I do,” Mingyu smirked. Joshua seemed incapable of collecting himself. He opened his mouth not yet knowing what to say. Mingyu slowly and elegantly raised his hand and covered Joshua’s mouth. “I have great plans for you Joshua.” 

Joshua didn’t know what to do, but somehow, deep inside of him he found the courage to lock eyes with Mingyu. 

Mingyu was the one to break eye contact. He leaned in slowly and softly kissed Joshua’s jaw. Waves of heat shot through Joshua and Mingyu’s touch made him close his eyes, his body shivering. 

“You should come with me this weekend.” Mingyu said, and this time it sounded more like a suggestion than an order. 

Joshua nodded as Mingyu removed his hand. 

“You’re dismissed.”

“Thank you Sir.” Joshua said and turned around to leave the office. He couldn’t hide his smile as he fell into his chair. 

Joshua felt something pulling in his stomach for the next days when Mingyu acted like nothing had happened. 

“You have four suits, wear them,” Mingyu said without even looking at Joshua the following day. He was still wearing the red suit because he thought Mingyu liked that one the best. “Yes Sir.” Joshua said with his eyes glued to Mingyu, but Mingyu didn’t notice. 

Joshua’s mind was completely occupied with the weekend, the thought of going away with Mingyu made Joshua’s heart flutter. But before the week was over a sinking feel had grown in Joshua because Mingyu hadn’t mentioned anything at all. All Mingyu had done for most of the week was complain, about the suits, about his schedule, his lunch, the other employes. The list went on, Mingyu didn’t seem to be in a good mood. So by Friday Joshua had come to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t be going with Mingyu for the weekend. 

Joshua had tried to come up with an explanation for Mingyu’s  behavior in the beginning of the week, and the only conclusion that made sense to Joshua was that Mingyu must have been drunk or high. 

By Friday noon Joshua was planning on spending some of the weekend with his church friends. He was just about to write them when Mingyu stepped out of his office. 

“My car will pick you up at seven. You can leave early today so you can be ready in time.” Joshua was completely thrown off and unable to provide a satisfying answer right away because of his surprise. 

Finally he just said, “Yes Sir. Thank You.”

“Just make sure Mr. Lee is up to date with the new strategy before you leave. Otherwise I won’t be needing you for the rest of the day.”

“Yes Sir. I’m looking forward to tonight,”

Mr. Kim smirked and returned to his office with Joshua left as confused as ever. 

While Mr. Kim had said he only needed to speak to Mr. Lee, Joshua knew that if he didn’t finish all of the things he wes doing, Monday would be literal hell. 

So it took Joshua an hour and a half before he was ready to walk across the office space to talk to Mr. Lee. 

“Joshua!” Mr. Lee jumped up as soon as he saw Joshua. 

“Mr. Lee!” A smile spread across Joshua’s lips. 

“I know that you’re still new and that with Mingyu it’s always Mr. Kim, Sir, Mr. Lee but please call me Chan,”

“I’m sorry, I’ll try.”

“Don’t sweat it Joshua.”

Joshua handed Chan a stack of papers. “Mr. Kim wanted to make sure you had the new strategy. There aren’t that many changes, it’s mostly in the social media department.”

“ Thanks man.”

“No problem, see you Monday.”

When Joshua arrived home he quickly packed his weekend bag for every possible scenario, Mingyu hadn’t told him anything about what they were doing and Joshua wanted to be sure he wouldn’t come up short. 

Joshua figured he might as well eat, since he wasn’t sure if he would be eating with Mingyu. So Joshua cooked himself a meal he ate in front of the television while waiting for Mingyu to pick him up. 

Joshua was surprised to hear a knock on his door already at six. Joshua instantly went to his door and opened to see a good looking man taller than Joshua stood in the door. He had a nice, handsome face and black hair covering his forehead. 

“Hello, I’m Jeon Wonwoo.” Joshua and Wonwoo shook hands, “I’m here to pick you up, are you ready?”

“Yes, I’ll just grab my bag,” Joshua grabbed his bag and locked the door to the apartment. Wonwoo insisted on carrying his bag as they walked down to the car. Joshua was surprised to see Mingyu sitting in the front seat, so Joshua placed himself in the backseat alone. 

Mingyu didn’t even greet Joshua before handing him an IPad and began barking orders. 

“I want everything to be ready for when we arrive so we don’t have to think about work this weekend. Answer all my e-mails and make sure that people know I will be back Monday. Also make sure everything is ready for the brief Monday. Also…” Mingyu handed Joshua his wallet, “Also can you pay my bills, also I think I have a few tickets, take those on my company account.” Mr. Kim then went in to conversation with the driver leaving Joshua feeling alone and isolated in the back of the car. 

Joshua didn’t notice anything weird at first. It wasn’t unlike Mingyu to do stuff like this, and actually Joshua didn’t mind doing the work in the car instead of doing it at the office. Joshua really didn’t mind until he noticed how the conversation between Mingyu and Jeon Wonwoo didn’t seem to cease. It stung in Joshua at first but his logical senses quickly kicked in and he figured the two of them must be good friends. 

Joshua only believed that explanation briefly. Mingyu was asking Jeon Wonwoo a lot of first date like questions. It was incredibly distracting to Joshua and the stinging sensation came back and spread through Joshua’s entire body. 

Joshua quickly learned that he loved Mingyu’s laugh, a sound before unfamiliar to him, but he hated that it was this stranger’s bad jokes which were the reasons for Mingyu’s laughs. He tried to focus really hard on the e-mails he was sitting with, but the conversation in the front seat made it really hard to concentrate. 

Joshua was somewhat successful in suppressing the stinging sensation until he saw Mingyu’s hand gracing the knee of Jeon Wonwoo. The unfamiliar feeling turned into a heavy stone in Joshua’s chest. Joshua knew he had to work through the awful feeling which soon had spread to his entire body, and so he did his job doing his best to ignore the laughter and conversation from the front seat. 

It felt like hours before they finally arrived and Joshua could escape the personal hell he was in.

Mingyu and Joshua stood in the lobby of the hotel before checking in. 

“So we’re meeting with some of the secret investors tomorrow. It will be casual, I have known them for a really long time and it’s really just to make sure they’re satisfied, they invest a lot.”

 A wave of unfamiliar courage suddenly flooded over Joshua, maybe it was the jealousy making him defiant. 

“Is it those secret investors that make my job a pain and close to impossible?” Mingyu smirked and didn’t as much as shift his gaze from Joshua. 

“Yes, those exactly. They are very important for the company and they value their privacy.” And apparently Joshua didn’t value his job because he continued, 

“Well then why did you bring me? I’ve only been here for a few months.”

Mr. Kim shook his head and put a hand on Joshua’s shoulder. Electricity shot through all of Joshua’s body. MIngyu’s touch made him weak in the knees. “I like you Joshua, and I trust you.”

‘I like You’ the words lingered in Joshua’s mind and made it impossible to focus on anything but Mingyu’s lips. Joshua didn’t say anything he couldn’t say anything even he if he wanted to. Mingyu removed his hand from Joshua’s shoulder and he smiled, not a grin or a smirk but a genuine smile. “I’ll get us checked in,”

Mingyu soon returned with two keycards. “I got us a suite. I figured it would be easier if I had you close. You’ll get your own room in the suite of course.” Joshua took the card and put it in his back pocket. He reached for his own and Mingyu’s bags. 

“No, leave them. Have you never been to a hotel before?” 

Joshua couldn’t quite figure out if Mingyu was kidding or not. 

The suite was huge with a full kitchen, living room and multiple other rooms. The room Mingyu told Joshua to stay in was bigger than all of his apartment. He had a gorgeous view of the city from the floor to ceiling windows. A kingsize bed with beautiful extravagant bedding filled the room. A television as big as the one he had spotted in the living space filled the wall opposite of the bed. The bedroom also had a large sofa-group, a bar and its own ensuite. Joshua had unpacked his suitcase and was slowly getting ready for bed when Mingyu knocked on the open door. 

Joshua opened and was slightly put off by seeing Mingyu in pajama pants and a white t-shirt. Mingyu’s arms looked just as magnificent as he had imagined they would. Joshua was too struck by the sight to form proper words in response to Mingyu’s knock. Only an unrecognizable sound escaped Joshua’s lips. Mingyu grinned slightly, “I’m gonna go to bed, but if you’re hungry just order room service,” Mingyu pushed himself away from the doorframe he was leaning against just as Joshua said 

“Thank you sir,” 

Mingyu had already turned to leave, but he remembered something and turned back to face Joshua again, “Could you make sure there’s breakfast ready up here at nine? Enough for both of us.”

“Of course Sir, I’ll take care of it. Sleep well.”

“Thank you Joshua, goodnight.”

Mingyu turned and this time left the room for good. Joshua admired Mingyu’s broad shoulders and the hint of a muscular back underneath the fabric of his t-shirt. 

For breakfast Joshua ordered one of everything to make sure that there was something Mingyu would like. It was already set up on the table by 8.50. Joshua had also made sure there was apple, pineapple, and orange juice so it would be impossible for Mingyu to miss anything. 

Mingyu had said it would be casual with the investors so Joshua had dressed in jeans and one of his blue dress-shirts. 

Joshua was surprised to see Mingyu emerge from his room in blue swimming trunks and another white t-shirt. Mr. Kim’s brows frowned when he saw Joshua. 

“Why are you wearing that?” 

Mingyu strode past Joshua, barely looking at him, before he dumped down in a chair. He instantly began eating and pouring juice for himself. 

“With all due respect Sir. you didn’t tell me what we are doing.”

Mingyu didn’t even look up from his food, “Did you bring pool clothes?” Joshua sat down across from Mingyu and considered his question. He had in fact brought his trunks just to be safe. 

“I did, but you didn’t tell me to.” 

Mingyu still didn’t look up from his food.

“I’m sorry about that, I really hadn’t decided on a set plan before you left yesterday,” 

Mingyu halted for just a second before he continued, “Just sit and eat, I’ll be right back.” Mringyu said and went out of his way to avoid eye contact. For the first time Mingyu seemed small, and not his magnificent self to Joshua. 

Mingyu left and Joshua was finally comfortable enough to eat now that Mingyu wasn’t there to watch him. 

Alas Joshua didn’t get much in him before Mingyu returned with three Gucci boxes in his hands. 

“I got you these, I didn’t tell you to bring anything because I don’t want you walking around in cheap shorts.” Mingyu said and placed the boxes on the table in front of Joshua, 

“Min… Sir.,” Joshua quickly corrected himself, “thank you.”

He was about to protest but thought better of it. He knew that when Mingyu had made a decision there was no point in trying to change his mind. 

“You have an assistant for a reason. You really should let me take care of stuff like this Sir.”

Mr. Kim was already busy eating again, and the doubts Joshua had had about ordering too much food vanished. 

“I told you, I didn’t decide on exactly what we would be doing before you already left.” 

Mr. Kim was back to his posed self, even with a mouth full of food. 

“Sir.  You could just have let me plan from the beginning, that is what you pay me to do.” 

“Maybe next time Joshua. Now go change, I got you a whole outfit, I have learned I can’t really trust you regarding style,” 

Joshua wasn’t even offended by Mingyu’s remark since he was right. Even though Joshua had barely eaten he took Mingyu’s words as the order they were and took the boxes with him to his room. 

He opened them to find a red pair of swimming shorts, a cream colored t-shirt with heavy soft fabric, and a pair of white slides with the iconic red and green gucci stripes. Joshua was hesitant to change at first. The articles in front of him weren’t cheap, there probably was for more than he made in a few weeks. 

The suits were one thing, but this seemed unnecessary, still Joshua wanted to please his boss and so he changed into the new clothes. The shoes were incredibly uncomfortable, but Joshua figured he’d better keep them on. 

Joshua returned to find Mingyu lounged across one of the couches in front of the TV, a music show was playing on the large flat screen. Joshua quietly sat down at the table and ate from what was left after Mingyu’s meal. He also began cleaning up after the two of them. 

“Don’t bother cleaning up, we’ll be leaving soon anyway.” Mr. Kim said without looking away from the television. Joshua finished cleaning up anyway.

Thirty minutes later the two young men left for the pool area. They had barely gotten outside before a young woman came running up to them. “Mr. Kim welcome! We have everything ready for you, and some of your guests have already arrived,” she spoke in a pitchy sweet tone, she sounded professional, but Joshua noticed the hungry look in her eyes when she looked at Mingyu. 

The three of them walked together to a large cabana by the poolside. Sun beds were out front, inside there was couches, a television, a bar, and a dining table already filled with fruits and snacks. Two men slightly older than Joshua himself, but about the same age as Mingyu were already sitting in the cabana with drinks in their hands. 

Mingyu thanked the girl who had led them on the right path and instantly went to greet the secret investors. The men hugged and they were instantly smiling and laughing clearly ecstatic to see each other. As Joshua watched he could see Mingyu as a real person and not the overbuying Joshua had elevated him to be. 

Mingyu waved Joshua ahead to greet them them. 

“This is my assistant Joshua,” 

Mingyu presented Joshua to the investors and Joshua proceeded to shake hands with both of them. The taller of them, the one of them who looked like a model with his high cheekbones and perfect hair introduced himself as Wen Jun. 

The other one, a man with a cute face and bleached hair introduced himself as Boo Seungkwan. The introductions were short and both of the investors attentions instantly went to Mingyu again. “This is very unlike you, bringing company,” Jun the taller of them said. Mingyu looked to Joshua and then back to Jun. Joshua noticed how Mingyu had gone completely out of business mode, and for once didn’t know what to say. Joshua’s perception of Mingyu changed a bit on that moment, but his fascination hadn’t lessened at all. 

“Well I don’t want my employees to quit, meeting the three of you isn’t exactly an easy task,”

Mingyu said with a deadpan expression painted over his face. 

Jun laughed and placed his gaze on Joshua, “Well this obviously isn’t Lisa so he must be a new one. What’s different about him?” 

Jun was speaking solely to Mingyu, and it made Joshua slightly uncomfortable, the way they were talking about him like he wasn’t standing right in front of them. 

“Joshua has been with me for a few months and I know he won’t tell on you when you get drunk and start talking shit,” 

Mingyu’s voice was light and teasing, only with a hint of seriousness. 

“It’s true sir, I ain’t no snitch.” Joshua said with a smirk to get himself into the conversation. Jun burst out in laughter once again. 

“He has you calling him sir?” Mingyu you’re so full of yourself.”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes but a smile still graced his round face, 

“I get my employees to call me Sir too, it’s just because you’re a man of the people Jun.”

“One, you don’t have any employees cause you don’t have a real job. Two, I’m not better just because I’m rich Boo.”

Seungkwan was about to say something, but it seemed that when he noticed Joshua was there he decided to stay silent, instead he downed his drink. “I’m gonna jump in the pool. Will Cheol be here soon you think?”

“It should be within the next hour, I’ll come with you.” Jun replied and the two men jumped in the pool with a big splash leaving Mingyu and Joshua alone. 

Mingyu went to pour himself a drink. It was barely ten in the morning and the drinks were already flowing.

Joshua knew he should be grabbing on to the chance to speak to Mingyu. Joshua knew that this was once in a life time. It wasn’t often Mingyu let his guards down. Unfortunately Joshua was nervous, and he didn’t know what to say, so instead of actually speaking Joshua glued his eyes to the television to distract himself. 

Joshua couldn’t quite figure out exactly when he started feeling this awkward with Mingyu. Was it that day in the office? Even though it wasn’t even a week ago it felt like a million years had passed. Maybe it was in the days after, being almost invisible to Mingyu had been awful. But maybe it was the feeling of being so incredibly jealous that it hurt which had changed something in Joshua.

Mingyu ended Joshua’s train of thought, “Do you want one too?” he asked Joshua while trying to seek out eye contact.  Joshua fell for it first but quickly looked away, Mingyu’s soft eyes made him confused. 

“No thank you, I’m fine.” Joshua was for a moment  distracted by a shriek coming from outside the cabana. Jun had just thrown Seungkwan across the pool. 

“So why are these guys secret? Is it just so you can have a day like this once in a while  and have the company pay for it?” Joshua said kiddingly, still avoiding Mingyu’s eyes. “While we enjoy these days, they do have special interests in the company, so that’s why they’re secret. Also none of them play golf, that’s what we do with the other investors.”

“So… Sir, what special interests do they have?” Joshua said figuring it was the right time to ask. 

“I would tell you, but actually I’m under a non-disclosure agreement so I can’t.” 

Joshua was puzzled by all the secrets, “but it probably will come up later, and hopefully they won’t ask you to leave when it does” Mingyu laughed shortly and sat down next to Joshua. 

“You don’t have to call me Sir today. We’re out of the office and it’s a fun day today.” Joshua figured Jun’s comments had effected Mingyu. Also the word fun sounded very strange coming from Mingyu’s lips. 

“Okay… Mingyu.” The name was very familiar in Joshua’s mind, but he hadn’t spoken it out loud very often, the name felt unfamiliar in Joshua’s mouth. 

Mingyu’s expression also changed, like he had just taken a bite out a lemon after hearing his name spoken like that. “Should I call you Kim Mingyu instead?” Joshua said jokingly but not even a hint of a smile showed on Mingyu’s face. “No Mingyu’s fine, but we’re back to Sir on Monday.”

“Of course,”

Jun and Seungkwan returned from the pool, they grabbed white fluffy towels from a table in the corner and joined Mingyu and Joshua. 

Suddenly both Jun and Seungkwan were very interested in Joshua and bombarded him with questions, some about work, some about everything but.

“Do you have a girlfriend Joshua?” Jun asked with a smirk. Maybe it was something Joshua imagined, but he could swear he saw Mingyu suddenly looking more interested in the conversation. “Nah, don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Excuse our friend’s manners, he is so heteronormative” Seungkwan said and then asked, “Do you have a boyfriend?” Joshua must have blushed because Seungkwan began to reassure Joshua, 

“It’s okay if you do, we don’t judge. I’m gay.” 

This time Joshua wasn’t imagining it. Mingyu had set his drink on the table and was looking at them with the exact look he had on his face when he was focused during an important meeting. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend. I did have one, Jeonghan but we broke up when I moved to work for Mingyu. Do you have a boyfriend?” Joshua asked Seungkwan politely. Both Jun and Mingyu’s eyes grew big. 

“Please don’t ask him that.” Jun quickly said, almost pleadingly. 

“He’ll never shut up,” Jun added. Seungkwan ignored Jun completely, 

“He’s my fiancé, we’re getting married next summer.” Jun interrupted Seungkwan immediately. 

“He’s actually my fiancé, Vernon’s so hot, my fiancé is a rapper. He’s so sweet. Vernon cooked for me yesterday. Vernon and I cuddled for hours.” Jun badly imitated Seungkwan. “I don’t talk about him that much, and it’s only fair if I do we’re getting married.” Seungkwan defended himself. 

Jun was probably going to continue mocking Seungkwan but the last of the investors arrived. He was a good looking guy walking with confidence.

“How does it feel being a divorcee?” Jun said as the first thing when the last investor was within range. 

“It feels great. Just got the beach house sold so new Maserati for me,”

He nonchalantly dumped down next to Mingyu without noticing Joshua at all. 

     “I can’t believe you pulled it off, you fooled a whole courtroom.” 

The guy who Joshua assumed to be Cheol, smirked. 

“Easy, very rich, very unstable girl, and then you just bribe the fuck out of her lawyers.”

“It shouldn’t be allowed  to be that easy,” Seungkwan remarked.

“All you do is move your dad’s money into off-shore accounts Boo, just because you say you’re a CFO it doesn't make you one.” Cheol quickly fired back. Seungkwan moped and suddenly seemed very interested in his drink. 

“Sorry for being so rude. I’m Seungcheol. You must be the new assistant?” Seungcheol reached out to shake hands with Joshua 

“I am, Joshua.”

“Nice to meet you Joshua. You must be special for Mingyu to bring you along.” Joshua hesitated he didn’t know what to answer, especially with Mingyu listening. Before Joshua could think of an answer Mingyu replied for him, “he is.” 

Joshua’s heart stopped. He wasn’t sure he heard correctly. Joshua had been desperate for validation from Mingyu since that day in his office. Was this it? The moment lingered in Joshua, but everything else moved on, and soon Joshua began to feel out of place and awkward in the company. 

Joshua excused himself and went back to the suite, he grabbed his phone, a book and his head phones. He felt awkward and out of place with the investors, or in reality they were just Mingyu’s friends. Joshua figured it would be best to remove himself a bit, so they would be able to talk actual business without Joshua there. 

Joshua returned and laid on one of the sun beds, he put his headphones in. His curiosity won over his common sense so he didn’t start the music, he figured he could listen in to the conversation just so he could figure out what was going on. 

Mingyu was a completely different person when he talked with them. He was giggly and fun, and sounded much younger than usual. 

In the time Joshua laid listening his fascination with Mingyu tuned in the something else, resembling maybe admiration. 

Every time Mingyu laughed Joshua’s heart fluttered so bad it hurt. 

Every time he could hear a smile in Mingyu’s voice he felt a bigger need to be the reason for the smile. 

He was so distracted about everything he could hear Mingyu doing that he almost didn't notice all of the weird things that were going on with the others, almost. 

Joshua only heard small breaks of conversation that could add to the theory of what the deal with them was.

 It wasn’t hard to figure out what was going on after Jun exclaimed, “Boo, you’re not a CFO, your dad is a mobster boss and you handle his finances!” Followed by a laugh and Seungkwan answering in a deadpan tone, 

“Well at least I don’t kill people, did you know that heroin kills?”. 

The thing that Joshua didn't understand yet was why they needed Mingyu, and why Mingyu needed them. 

Joshua hadn’t been able to read a single sentence, but he didn’t notice before a shirtless Mingyu was hovering above him. “Wanna jump in with me?” A smirking Mingyu said. Joshua hesitantly pulled out his earphones, 

“I don’t know Mingyu…” Mingyu just laughed his answer off, he took the book out of Joshua’s hand and threw it to the ground.

 “C’mon,” Mingyu forced Joshua out of the chair by dragging him out of it. 

“Mingyu!” 

Joshua shrieked and fell into a fit of giggle. Before he knew it he fell and was emerged in water. When Joshua broke the surface of the water and took in a big breath of air he was so surprised to feel Mingyu’s arms around him. They quickly disappeared again and Joshua couldn’t help but feel disappointed. 

“I’m sorry Joshua, I didn’t mean to…” 

Mingyu said but he laughed so much he couldn’t finish his sentence, Joshua too was laughing so hard he could barely keep himself above water. 

When they both finally stopped laughing they fell into silence, their only communication being the contact their eyes shared. Joshua didn’t know what to say, he just knew he wanted to stay like that forever. 

Alas nothing ever lasts and their moment was interrupted by Jun jumping in the pool, followed by both Seungkwan and Seungcheol. 

Joshua felt great being a part of their silly games in the water and being part of the fun. 

They all went back to the cabana and sat on the couches with their towels wrapped around them. The investors were all fun, especially Jun who Joshua figured out was a lot like Joshua himself, they shared the same sense of humor and could laugh at things the others didn’t understand at all. The hours passed and Joshua realized that he didn’t care that all of Mingyu’s investor friends were criminals , because they were fun guys, and they brought out this side of Mingyu. Joshua couldn’t remember feeling this way, being completely blown away by a person and everything that person is. He hadn’t ever felt like this with Jeonghan, as hard as that was to admit to himself. Joshua let himself sit surrounded by these strangers and let himself fall more and more in love with Mingyu. 

Mingyu and the investors wanted to go out to dinner. Joshua excused himself and stayed back in the suite after Mingyu had changed into a suit and left to meet with his friends again. Joshua was glad to be alone. He liked Mingyu’s friends, and he did want to be with Mingyu, but they were all quite the characters and they had all gotten incredibly drunk during the day, Joshua needed a bit of calm and silence. 

Besides that he was sure that his heart might actually burst and he would die if he heard Mingyu laugh one more time. 

This side of Mingyu, kind and carefree, fun and caring, it was amazing but Joshua needed a break to process everything he had experienced. 

Joshua ordered food to the room and finally got to read his book. 

He was already half fallen asleep when he was jolted completely awake by a knock on the door. Joshua rolled out of the bed unaware of the fact that he was only wearing boxers and the t-shirt that Mingyu had given him. 

Mingyu stood out side the door with his tie loosened and his white shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest. 

“Are you sleeping in the 400 dollar Gucci shirt I got you?” 

Mingyu asked with a furrowed brow, but he didn’t seem mad, he just seemed perplexed. “Yeah I feel asleep while I was reading,” 

Joshua felt Mingyu’s eyes seizing him in such an aggressive manner that Joshua took a step back, because he felt to overwhelmed. 

“I just wanted to apologize, I shouldn't have brought you here, it was too early.” 

Mingyu said sincerely. 

“No I’m glad you brought me. I got to get to know you a bit better.” 

Joshua saw the hint of a smile travel across Mingyu’s face. 

“You deserve to know what’s going on, and I know you already figured some of it out, you’re a clever guy. Their money funded me in the beginning, without them I wouldn’t have a company, and they still invest in me and get their profit by the end of the year,” 

The pieces began to fall into place to Joshua. 

“I understand if you want to quit Joshua, I do. I’ll help you find something else.” 

It was Joshua’s turn to be the perplexed one, how could Mingyu think that he would ever quit? 

“No Sir, not at all. Your investors money could come from war trade, I don’t care, I just like working for you.”  

Joshua reassured Mingyu. 

“Joshua, you can call me Mingyu,”

“Till Monday morning right?” 

Joshua said with a faint smile. 

“No, Mingyu is fine, I think we’re past Sir.” 

Joshua was confused and it must have shown on his face. 

“I like you Joshua, Sir is very professional and usually after people figure out that all my friends are criminals and my company is built on money made by criminals, I don’t get them to call me Sir anymore.” 

Mingyu said it with a big smile, and a slight laugh, and his lightness surprised Joshua. I like you Joshua. Joshua didn’t quite know how to interpret that it but he knew it was significant. “Yeah me too,”

Mingyu laughed, which made Joshua laugh too, because he loved being the reason for Mingyu’s laugh. The silence between them was only short after the laughter had died down, Mingyu took a deep breath and again turned serious. 

“Joshua I’m sorry about what happened Monday. I was out of line,” 

Mingyu didn’t only sound serious, he also sounded nervous. 

“I just, I don't know how to act around you Joshua.” 

Mingyu took a step toward Joshua and closed most of the space between them. 

“Just be you Mingyu, I like you when you’re all serious and business like, and I like you when you’re laughing at your friend’s bad jokes and make sure that everyone has enough to drink.” 

Mingyu smiled softly and Joshua think he detected a blush in Mingyu’s cheeks. Joshua was caught by surprise when Mingyu grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled Joshua closer, eliminating the remaining space between them. 

“Is it okay if I kiss you Joshua?” 

Joshua froze with anticipation, he couldn’t believe what was happening, still he managed to nod. 

Mingyu leaned in and placed his lips on Joshua’s. Mingyu’s lips were soft and careful on Joshua’s. Joshua put his hand on Mingyu’s neck in a desperate attempt to get him even closer, but before the tingling sensation Joshua was feeling had spread his entire body Mingyu pulled away. 

“Goodnight Joshua,” 

Mingyu left the room and closed the door behind him, leaving Joshua alone and stunned. 

[maevefiction]

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 48

Tom remained at Wilcox Medical until July 11th, and I didn’t leave his side for more than a few minutes during the entirety of his stay…a navy-blue leather recliner to the left of his bed had served as my sleeping spot. Said sleep was elusive, as is the case with any hospital stay. It’s all a blur of doctors and nurses and machines and strange periods of quiet that turn into an assaultive dissonance on a dime. Detective Frye paid us a visit at the hospital the day before Tom was discharged in order to discuss his recollection of the incident, aspiring to fill in as many blanks remaining in the police report as possible. Since there was no one to prosecute, such matters were for the record only, but accurate information was essential in the event that a civil suit was filed by Claudia’s family. I was initially taken aback when Tom asked me to leave the room while he spoke with the detective, and it must have shown on my face because Tom quickly apologized and said he simply wasn’t ready for me to hear any of it, even though I might be ready to listen. Upon my return an hour later, Frye was gone and Tom was visibly upset, with an underlying anger reflected by the tension in his shoulders and the set of his jaw. Though it was a challenge, I didn’t pry, settling instead for squeezing his hand before I retired to my chair and sat in silence with him until he was ready to talk. And when he did, it was about everything and anything other than whatever it was that he’d just shared with a complete stranger.  

His recovery had gone smoothly, but we’d found ourselves taking what amounted to a forced vacation in a rented condo on Kauai, waiting for Tom to be cleared to fly to San Diego so he could, hopefully, arrive there in time to participate in the Kong Skull Island panel. Since we’d be in Australia for a large chunk of my pregnancy, I’d decided to choose an obstetrician there, and had managed to find one in London as well who was willing to follow along and take over once we returned home in mid-to-late November. That date was tentative at best since we weren’t sure what physical limitations or restrictions Tom would have nor how they’d affect the Ragnarok shooting schedule. I’d had a basic blood work-up and general physical exam at Wilcox, and when that turned out fine I opted to wait on a sonogram. It seemed silly, but I just didn’t want to forever associate the experience of seeing our progeny for the first time with…whatever the correct term for what we were going through was. Prog…that’s what we’d started calling the little bugger that was making me violently ill at least once a day. Short for progeny, with a ‘j’ sound. The Prog.

Diana, James and the rest of Tom’s family had headed home as soon as he’d been discharged, but Luke and Simon stuck around under the guise of not wanting to fly to London only to have to turn around and fly right back to the US again for SDCC. In reality, I knew the reason for them remaining was because they figured we’d need their companionship and assistance but wouldn’t want to ask for either, which was one-hundred percent correct. They’d taken on the task of finding the rental, packing up our belongings at the hotel and having them ready and waiting when we arrived. No one even asked if I wanted to do it myself, for which I was grateful, because there was no way I was going back there. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able go back there…just looking through our wedding pictures and videos pushed me to the edge of the ‘massive anxiety attack ahead’ cliff, and, in all honesty, I couldn’t wait to get the fuck off of Kauai. Remaining there seemed to make it impossible to process, to try to move forward. I’d begun having nightmares, as had Tom, but we didn’t speak of them in the daylight hours, nor in the dark of night. I knew that there was work to be done, that we needed to find a pathway to healing emotionally…but that didn’t seem possible until things in the physical realm were fully sorted.

Tom’s first follow-up appointment had taken place on the 13th, his second – and last – on the 18th. Dr. Salinas gave him clearance to travel and return to normal physical activity with some limitations…no running and no stunt work for thirty days. After that it would be business as usual, but for the next three months he’d need to self-monitor, and if he noticed any pain or atypical shortness of breath he was to head to the nearest medical facility immediately. Copies of all related paperwork would be sent to the proper department at Marvel for review, and the new shooting schedule emailed once it had been established. Since he was fine to do a majority of planned scenes, it was likely only three weeks or so of actual filming time would be lost. Which was bad enough, but…could have been worse. So much worse. I wondered if I’d always think that way, and if it wasn’t actually a bad way to evaluate one’s current situation. All things should seem less horrible when you pause to consider what’s worse, in theory. I decided to file it under ‘convenient diversionary tactics to avoid dealing with life’, mainly because my pondering had been interrupted by another round of heaving up the contents of my stomach.

All four of us shared a charter to San Diego on the 21st, heading directly from the airport to the same hotel we’d stayed in the year before via a car service. Stepping out of the black Dodge Durango and onto the pavement was surreal…a mix of reporters, media, and attendees thrilled to be among their people again were all around us, and we were paid little to no mind until we entered the lobby. There were stares, pointing, and whispering as well as several shouts from well-wishers. While it was a bit overwhelming after spending so much time in a private setting, the positive energy emanating from those within our space reminded me that there were likely some folks who’d been concerned about us and had been sending along that same energy from a distance via social media. I hadn’t looked, and neither had Tom, but now was probably the time to investigate and at least post a simple thank you if nothing else. I didn’t want to, but it seemed rude not to, so I added it to my mental to-do list.

After check-in we took the elevator up to our floor, and when the doors opened I could feel my body tense at the sight of the narrow hallway. Tom and I stepped out into it, leaving Luke and Simon behind as their room was two floors above us. We walked to our room, the third one on the left, and when I turned to face the door a vision of Claudia knocking on it froze me in place. Once Tom completed sliding the keycard and swung the door inward the contents of the room were clearly visible, and though slow to process the data, my brain cycled logically…not Kauai, different place, dead Claudia, all clear…and I managed to step forward and inside. The door shut behind me with a loud click, and I flinched, then headed for the bathroom. Tom had pulled out his phone and begun talking to someone I assumed was either Jordan or a fellow cast member about the panel’s structure and content. He was still engaged in conversation when I emerged a few minutes later, standing in front of the window that overlooked the city. The setting sun, now at its lowest visible point on the horizon, had created a halo effect that surrounded his upper body, and in that moment, I felt like myself again…normal, even. My version of normal, anyway. And then, there was a knock on the door, and I panicked, whimpering quietly because that’s all my body would permit. Tom didn’t realize anything was awry at first, only turning around when the knocking continued. He took one look at my face, tossed his phone on the bed, and walked quickly to stand in front of me as he loudly stated to whomever was out in the hallway that he’d be right there.

He took my face in his hands ever so carefully, trying his best to keep himself even-keeled for my benefit. “It’s okay. It’s probably just our luggage. I’ll go see, and I promise I’ll leave the bolt on until I’m certain. All right?”

I nodded, watching him from the foot of the bed, unconsciously clenching my hands into fists as I waited for something terrible to unfold. As the door opened my heart began to pound like mad, and when I saw the luggage dolly I sat down, elbows on my knees and my head in my hands…relieved, but confused and embarrassed by my behavior. I heard the door close again, then felt Tom’s weight shift the mattress as he sat beside me. I lifted my head slowly as he slipped his arm around my shoulders. I wanted to say something but I didn’t know where or how to begin, and since he remained silent I assumed he felt the same way. Though it felt wrong to judge so quickly, this was becoming a pattern, and it made me uncomfortable across the board. We hadn’t been intimate since the night before the public wedding ceremony and learning that I was pregnant, and it felt petty and selfish to even be thinking about not having fucked my husband in three weeks when I’d almost lost him forever, but I missed him, missed the reinforcement of the connection between us sex provided, all of it. It had been officially off the table until the restrictions Dr. Salinas had imposed were lifted, and while I’d been expecting to get back to it right away his expectations clearly differed. To be honest, he’d expressed no interest in it whatsoever. I didn’t know what to make of it, and it was another instance of me saying nothing because I had no clue as to what I should say, if anything. I’d also caught him looking at me on multiple occasions while wearing an expression of guilt and/or regret and again, said nothing. A pattern indeed, and an awful one that I was unsure how to break free of, other than being patient until it ran its course. Lord knew he’d been ceaselessly patient with me all along the way, the situation he’d just navigated serving as a prime example. Was that the right way to handle this? Fuck if I knew. What I did know that I was exhausted, and softly announced that I was going to try to get some rest. He kissed the top of my head, rose and began to unpack our luggage as I undressed and crawled under the covers. As I lay there, I realized that it wasn’t only him who hadn’t revealed the details of their experience that day…neither had I. Yet, he’d known the circumstances, enough, at least, to know someone knocking at the door was something I might now find frightening. Had he watched a video of the press conference? Discussed it with Luke or Simon? Or, perhaps, Detective Frye? I sat up, intending to broach the subject, but found myself trapped between needing resolution and wanting to avoid causing him any additional pain. His voice startled me.

“Maude? You okay?”

I stood, nodding. “Tired, but can’t sleep. Gonna take a shower and see if that helps.”

As I walked past him, he set the shirts in his hand down on the dresser in order to reach out for me, pulling me to his chest and kissing the top of my head again, then releasing me. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The carry-on that contained my toiletries was on the floor near him, and I stooped to pick it up and brought it with me into the bathroom. After closing the door behind me, I started to cry. I cried as I unpacked what I needed. I cried as I turned on the water, I cried as I shampooed my hair, I cried as I rinsed it, I cried as I soaped myself and rinsed again, and I cried as I dried myself off and hung the towel back on the rack. My eyes were red when I glanced at my reflection, so I wet a washcloth with cold water and held it over them for several minutes then checked myself out again. Not ideal, but acceptable. I blew my nose, then walked back out into the room. Tom had finished unpacking and was sitting at the room’s desk, laptop open in front of him. He looked up at me, smiling.

“Better?”

“I think so.” I put my hands on my naked hips. “You coming to bed?”

“Not yet…going over a few things for the panel tomorrow. Will it keep you awake if I’m working?”

I shook my head as I allowed my hands to drop to my sides. “I don’t think so. I can always put my earbuds in and listen to music if it does.”

“Okay. I can’t imagine I’ll be at this for more than an hour, honestly, so I’ll be joining you soon. Get some sleep, my love.”

“Okay.” I returned to my tangle of sheets and blankets, my damp hair clinging to my neck, my back turned to him. There was, of course, no sleep to be had, though I pretended to be out cold when he finally settled in beside me two hours later. Once I was positive he was asleep, I got up, put on my robe, pulled out my own laptop and sat at the desk he’d recently vacated to do my own work. Which didn’t require much effort, as the only pressing task on my list was the Skype interview I had set with Chad Morrison for the New York Times tomorrow at 1 PM. I reviewed the most recent Manageall stats Trudy had sent me, created a bullet-point list, then spent the next few hours surfing around checking out random things that I thought might hold my interest and, perhaps, entertain me. I woke up in a puddle of drool with my hand beneath my head resting on the desk, my browser still open and displaying an article entitled ‘Gentle Yoga For A Better Birth’. The system clock read 6:17 AM, and a quick glance at the bed confirmed Tom was still sleeping. I stood, removed my robe, hit the bathroom and then slipped in beside him, waiting for him to awaken and for the day to begin. A new location, a full schedule, little time to dwell…and, hopefully, all of that would amount to first steps down that pathway we needed to traverse.

***************************************

SDCC had gone off without a hitch…everyone was incredibly respectful, and kind. I don’t know why I would have expected anything else, other than that little voice I kept hearing inside my head whispering things like ‘they know it’s all your fault’. My interview with Chad had been published on July 25th, and by the time we arrived on the Gold Coast in Queensland on the 28th Manageall had surpassed the ten thousand subscriber mark. That kept me busy over the next week as I scrambled from our rental house just outside of Oxenford to remotely help Trudy configure new servers and ensure that the system could handle three times our existing traffic, just in case. Five new employees were added within the space of two days, and all but one stayed on board despite being thrown into the fray with little to no training. Ten-thousand plus subscribers was A Big Deal…aka the amount that tipped our monthly gross revenue over the million-dollar mark. It was a milestone that warranted a discussion, one which Luke and I decided to have in person once I returned to London.

Tom had begun filming at Village Roadshow Studios on July 30th, waking each morning at 4 AM, leaving by 4:30 and returning home each night well after 10 PM, showering, then falling into bed exhausted. To make up for lost time, the shooting schedule would be six days a week until a temporary relocation to Brisbane happened in late August. My schedule mirrored his, mainly in order to account for the 9-hour time difference between Queensland and London. When I’d contact Trudy or Luke at 5 AM my time, it was 8 PM the night before where they were. A mindfuck, truly, and it meant I was done working every day by 11 AM at the latest, which left me with entirely too much time to think. Things between Tom and I were still as they were back in San Diego…no conversations about the incident, no sex. Every day had begun to represent another brick being added to the wall building between us. There was no animosity, we still talked about a broad spectrum of other things, still slept in the same bed, but there was a sense of necessitated cautiousness and a distance that hadn’t been there before.

The obstetrician I’d chosen, Dr. Bresden, practiced out of Brisbane, and my first appointment was scheduled for 1 PM on August 15th. The drive up would take about an hour or so, but we figured we’d leave at 11 and allow ourselves some extra time. If my guess as to when I’d conceived was correct, I’d reached the 13-week mark, possibly the 14th, and over the past eight days I hadn’t puked once, which was both awesome and anxiety inducing. Did it mean I was progressing normally, or was, you know, something WRONG? The evening before the sonogram was rough…I was obsessing over the morning sickness waning, and my nightmares had gotten continually worse, to the point wherein I began to dread going to sleep. We’d gone out to dinner with Chris and Elsa, who decided it was time to share their horror stories about child-rearing and childbirth now that Tom and I were official pledges to the Paternity Fraternity. I bitched about it the entire way home, then continued to complain about it after we’d arrived back at the rental house until I thought I heard Tom sigh heavily, at which point I had to decide whether or not to flip the fuck out or let it pass. Since I couldn’t be totally sure, and also because I could readily admit I had one foot over the cray-cray side of the fence, I let it go and we turned in for the night.

The next thing I knew, I was screaming, Tom was yelling, and my hands hurt like a motherfucker. I took stock of my surroundings and realized I was standing in front of the closed bedroom door. Looking down, I saw knuckles that were bruised and bloodied, as were the pinky-sides of my hands. When I looked back up and left and my gaze met Tom’s, my screaming stopped and his yelling ceased, replaced with a loud gasp of relief that was nearly a sob.

“What the fuck HAPPENED? I was asleep. How am I here? I don’t understand.” I reached out and touched the door with a fingertip, searching for confirmation that this was, in fact, reality, and as soon as I pressed down a jolt of pain hit my brain and I…remembered, my body twisting so I could face Tom.

“The Marriott, but…not the real Marriott. I was in the hallway, and you were dead, right there on the floor, and she was dead next to you, and I was just staring and staring and then she moved. She moved. And then she sat up, and she had the gun and she said ‘did you really think you were getting out of here alive’ and then she stood up and it was like something out of the Walking Dead, her eyes were all filmy and when she opened her mouth I could see right through because the back of her head was just…gone. And I turned around and ran down the hall and I tried all the room doors but they were all locked and then I got to the end of the hall and where there should have been stairs there was a door, a metal door, and the handle moved up and down like it was open but it wouldn’t open and I kept looking back over my shoulder and she was moving so slowly, but I couldn’t get the door to open and down at the other end of the hall was just a wall. She talked again and said she was going to wait until she got close to me to pull the trigger because she wanted to watch, she wanted to see…and I screamed for help, for someone to let me out, but no one came and I started to pound on the door, first with the sides of my fists, but then I started to punch it because she kept getting closer and the she touched me, her hand was on my shoulder and I swung around and punched her in the face and I thought she was going to fall down but she didn’t and then I tried to grab the gun but she wouldn’t let go and I went back to hitting the door and jiggling the handle but I knew I was going to die and then…then I…I was here…”

It felt like my heart was going to pound right out of my chest, and as I reached out to touch Tom to make sure I really wasn’t still inside a nightmare I noticed that the left side of his jaw was reddish-purple and that it was streaked with blood. My hands rose in an instant to cover my mouth, and when I spoke my voice was muffled and garbled.

“Oh my god, I hit YOU, didn’t I? Not her. YOU.” I lowered my hands, briefly assessing their condition once more and realizing that the blood on his face was most likely from my knuckles. “Oh my god. Tom, I’m so sorry…so sorry…are you okay? Jesus fucking CHRIST. What ELSE did I do? What is WRONG with me?!”

He stepped forward and embraced me, rubbing my back in slow circles and rocking me gently until he felt my heart rate returned to normal. Pulling back, he placed his hands on my upper arms, eyes focused on mine. “There’s nothing wrong with you. That was a night terror. I knew the risk of intervening…you’re never supposed to, but I couldn’t just stand aside and…anyway. I’m fine. How are you feeling?”

I shrugged, shaking my head back and forth slowly.

“I know. I’m so very sorry, Maude. First things first…those knuckles of yours need to be cleaned, And, we both could use some ice. Will you come to the kitchen with me? We’ll get that bit sorted, and then we can figure out what’s next. All right?” I nodded, and he stepped back, leaving one arm around my waist. He unlocked the bedroom door, opened it, then led me to the counter that held the undermounted stainless steel sink. We were both nude, and as he leaned forward to open the tap and set the right temperature with his free hand I felt the brush of his pubic hair across my hip, then again as he pulled back and released me in order to go find a clean kitchen towel. More than a year ago in New Orleans I’d had a brief case of performance anxiety after he’d revealed his full sexual history, but this, this was the first time ever that being naked in his presence made me feel uncomfortable. It was more than that, really…I felt self-conscious and exposed. I wrapped my arms around myself, and when he returned to my side I spoke, my chin lowered to my chest as I stared down at the water circling the drain.

“Would you mind getting me my robe?”

He placed two tan and white towels on the counter. “No, not at all…shall I turn the thermostat up a few degrees as well?”

I shook my head. “No thank you. I’m not cold.”

He hesitated, and I said nothing, continuing to stare. I heard his bare feet padding across the tile, the sound fading as he entered the bedroom. Upon the resumption of the sound I forced myself to lift my head and turn to look at him as he drew closer. In his hands was my black silk robe, and when I noticed he’d put on his navy-blue running shorts it dawned on me that by saying I wasn’t cold I’d clued him in as to what was on my mind, at least in part. He held the garment open so I could slip into it easily, his eyes averted as I carefully worked my arms through the sleeves. Though it wasn’t exactly pleasant, I tied the belt on my own. The water was still running, and he reached in and dipped his index finger into the stream.

“That feels all right to me.” His voice was nearly toneless, any emotion present seeming somehow forced. He reached for my right wrist, then paused, eyes asking for permission when I met his gaze. I nodded, then turned to watch as his hand encircled my wrist and guided my knuckles slowly into the streaming water. When I winced at the intensity of the stinging he spoke again, voice now trembling.

“I’m sorry.” He patted my right hand dry ever-so-gently, then moved on to my left. I winced again as the water made contact, noting that Tom’s own hands had begun to shake. By the time he’d dried my left hand off with the second towel, his entire body was quivering, and at that point I realized he was weeping. My head jerked upward and I swiveled my torso so I could see his face. He looked down and away, holding his hand up palm out toward me as he strode rapidly into the living room. I followed, and when I came to rest directly in front of him he spun around, leaving me with a view of his bare shoulders and back contorting as he sobbed.

This was it, then…the tipping point. Seeing him this way overrode my own emotional disarray, and I couldn’t imagine that anything I might say would make the situation worse, so I went all in.

“Tom. We need to talk.” He shook his head, and I gingerly placed my hand on his upper back between his shoulder blades. “Tom.” The contact was broken by him taking two steps forward. “Okay, no touching. That’s fine. But…”

He spun back around, blinking to clear his vison. “You want to touch me?”

“Of course I want to touch you. Why wouldn’t I want to touch you?”

His arms rose from his sides, bent at the elbow with his hands extended, fingers splayed and pointing in my direction as he looked me up and down. “Since you don’t want me to see you, I’m assuming you’d prefer that I also don’t touch you, which leads me to believe you’d prefer to not see or touch me, either.”

“That’s an incorrect assumption all around. I’d prefer it if you did touch me. But you haven’t, not in the way I’d expect you to, and you’ve given me no indication as to why you haven’t, which has caused me to assume that you’re no longer interested in me sexually, which has ultimately resulted in my feeling self-conscious and exposed when standing naked in your presence. Is my assumption as off base as yours?” Not an easy question to ask, that one. I hadn’t thought it through and wondered what the fuck would happen if he said no.

He nodded repeatedly. “Yes. It is. Completely.”

I lifted my arms and extended them outward at shoulder height, palms to the ceiling. “And that’s precisely why we need to talk, Tom. Ow.” Down went the arms, though it didn’t really do a whole hell of a lot for the throbbing ache in my hands. “We’ve avoided this conversation for far too long…instead we danced around the subject in an effort to prevent causing each other any additional pain. But that didn’t work. That never works, and I know that, but here we are…staring at each other across an ever-widening chasm which will eventually grow too vast to bridge. This distance, this disconnect…it’s awful. I’ve seen the pain in your eyes, and the anger, the guilt, the regret…and there’s my own shit I need to talk about…but I’ve stayed silent for fear of hurting you and I don’t want to do that anymore, Tom. I don’t think I CAN do it anymore.” There were two beige micro-fiber chairs on one side of the living room, and a matching couch on the other. We were standing between them, and I sat down at one end of the sofa. Tom hesitated at the other end briefly, then decided to sit in the middle, right by my side, and began to speak.

“I’m afraid. It terrifies me, the thought of my lung collapsing again. What if the next time I’m not so fortunate? What if it kills me, and you’re left here alone, and our child grows up without ever knowing me? All day long, with everything I do that’s even remotely physical, I’m aware of every breath that seems even remotely atypical, every twinge of the muscles in my torso. I’ve been counting down and focusing on the three-month marker because that’s when the risk of it happening again decreases to align with the norm. I’ve promised myself that then, that’s it, there’s no further need to worry, that I can let it go. I want to let it go. I hope I can let it go. But that’s why I haven’t…we haven’t. I wouldn’t want you to have to live with that, us loving each other being the end of me. And I should have told you. I should have. And I’m sorry. There’s another reason as well, and it’s a completely irrational fear but it feels real, and present. I’m sure it’s relative in some fashion to my past loss, but…I…”

Thinking in such a macabre and medieval-esque fashion was not Tom’s style, and that his mind had gone there was indicative of what a mess he’d been, and I was both impressed with and distressed by how well he’d managed it all from me. “You’re afraid that if we have sex I might have a miscarriage.”

He turned to face me, nodding. “It’s ludicrous. This I know. It’s not specifically that sex would be the cause, but if such a thing were to happen within close proximity of the act…and Maude, I just…I…I feel like death is just…it’s always lurking…even on set, you know? Loki’s role in Ragnarok is redemptive, there’s a comprehensive resolution, and he finally is able to ascertain his place in the universe and be at peace with it, and perhaps begin to experience happiness, or at least contentment…but I know what awaits him, that this moment for him is fleeting at best and I can’t help but see parallels there to my own reality.” Pausing, he rested his head in his hands, then moved them slowly back to his lap as he turned sideways, right leg bent with his knee on the couch resting centimeters from my left thigh. I shifted to mirror his position as he swallowed hard before continuing.

“I was mid-way through my run when I saw her. She waved at me as if her being there was perfectly normal. It made my blood boil, and instead of having the wherewithal to get back to the hotel as quickly as possible I approached her. I asked her what the fuck she was doing there, and told her she needed to leave immediately or she’d wind up with a police escort off the property. The mask of a friendly greeting fell away and she said ‘How could you let her to this to me, Tom? Let her ruin my life? I did what I had to do so she couldn’t trap you, and instead of being grateful you let her lie about me to the world, and then you married her. You married her, when you know how much I love you. And you love me. We belong together, you know that. She’s brainwashed you, that’s what’s going on here. She’s trying to keep us apart, and you can’t just roll over and and let it happen. Tom, come with me right now. We’ll run away and be happy, you and me, just us. Please. You have to come with me.’ And I told her I would do no such thing, that not only did I not love her, I regretted every moment I’d spent with her and that I wished I’d never met her, that I wished I could go back in time and tell her to get the fuck away from me when she crawled under the table to suck my dick. That whenever I thought about having fucked her it made me physically ill. And then I told her I was so lucky and so blessed that in spite of the mistakes I’d made I’d found you, that I’d never loved anyone like you before, and I never would again. Her response was that this was all your fault, that you’d stolen me away from her, and that if she couldn’t have me, no one would…and that’s when she pulled the gun out of the gift bag and shot me. The pain knocked me down and back and I fell onto the sand, and she put the gun back in the bag and said she really thought she wouldn’t need to use it, but I was too far gone and you were to blame. And that if she was going to have to pay for her crimes, you’d have to pay for yours too. She smiled at me, knelt down in the sand, kissed my check, said goodbye, then got up and took off running down the beach toward the hotel. I sat up, and the pain…and the blood…but I had to go after her. Each step I took seemed an eternity, and I couldn’t run, but I needed to get to you. I realized I’d never catch her, and that I was close to Luke and Simon’s room, so I began to walk that way. And then I crawled. But it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t get to you. I set all this in motion, there in that moment. I let my anger get the best of me and we both almost died because of it. In LA, when she threw the highball glass at you…I should have known. Up until that moment I was her focus, and she still believed that her and I would have a relationship at some point. You were just a minor inconvenience, a bump in the road. When she discovered that you knew about the videos…that’s where the shift happened. You became her target, the one to blame. I didn’t see it. I should have seen it. Having you speak at the press conference instead of handling it on my own was akin to painting a bullseye on your chest. And when you needed me most, when I should have been the one to face the monster I’d invited into my orbit, I wasn’t there for you, or for our child. I wasn’t there, Maude. I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t save you. I wasn’t THERE.”

For the first time in a long while…since our wedding day, really…I saw him…really saw him. Because he’d finally let me see him again. Sitting before me was a man so burdened by guilt and sorrow that he had no tears left to cry…an anxious, exhausted, depressed, defeated man positively teeming with self-loathing. My husband. A rush of pure, unadulterated love washed over me followed by an irrepressible urge to comfort him and banish all his fears that resulted in my reaching out and taking his hands in my damaged own, oblivious to the pain.

“Tom. No one sees this kind of thing coming. This is the stuff of late-night crime dramas and tragic Oscar-bait films. There was no way for you to know. I didn’t know, either…and believe me, I’ve beaten myself up for it, too. I’m the one who got in her face in LA and spouted off about prison. And no one ‘had’ me do anything…I stood at that podium of my own volition and called her bluff. I knew she’d be pissed, and I did it not only in spite of that fact, but, at least in a small way, because of it. The blame for that falls squarely on my shoulders. But what she did…no, Tom. It’s not your fault, it’s not my fault…that’s all on her. It was her choice. Her decision. And she was too much of a coward to answer for it. And even though I know all that, the logic behind it, I still feel guilty about how I handled all of it every day…and I thought you’d distanced yourself because you blamed me. Do you blame me?”

He shook his head, voice barely a whisper. “No. I thought the same…do you blame me?”

“No. I do not. I have not. Not even for a second. And there’s something else you need to know, Tom.” Those blue eyes full of trepidation met my brown ones. “You’re right about not being there…but you’re wrong about not protecting me, and you’re wrong about not being able to save me. When I opened that door and she was standing in the hallway, I was frozen in place. I couldn’t move. I watched the gun rise higher and higher and inside my head I was screaming ‘close the door, close the door’ but I couldn’t and then that faded and the only thought I had left was ‘she’s going to shoot me now’. And then I heard a man’s voice shouting for her to drop her weapon, and that broke the spell. That voice is the reason why I was able to get the door closed. That voice is the reason why those three bullets lodged in the door and not in my flesh. The man that voice belonged to? Police officer. And why was he there in exactly that place at precisely that time? Because you sent him, Tom. You sent him upstairs. You gave him the room number. You told him to go, GO! And he went.  If you hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you on the couch right now…so I don’t ever want to hear you say you couldn’t protect me or that you couldn’t save me ever again. You might not have been by my side when it happened, but you saved my life and our child’s life all the same. And you risked your own life to do it, Tom. Dr. Salinas said if you’d have stayed still your lung wouldn’t have fully collapsed so quickly. But you didn’t stay still. You got up over and over again and kept going and being in restraints couldn’t even stop you. You almost died that day in order to make sure we didn’t. Do you understand that? You almost died. To save your family. If that’s not protecting what you love, then I don’t know what the fuck IS.”

When our eyes met his lower lip began to quiver and I tightened my grip on his hands. “That day, outside the recovery room, Dr. Salinas…she said that she couldn’t explain why you made it through so well…why you lived. She didn’t phrase it quite that way, but that was the gist of it. But I know why. When you got word that I was alive, that I was unharmed…you went to war. You waged a battle with the final enemy. And you were victorious. You returned to me, to us. You fought death that day and you won, Tom. You came back. You came home.”

His gaze turned toward our joined hands a he positioned his left ring finger so it was next to mine, the silver bands that bound us clinking softly together in the silence. He looked back up at me, the right corner of his mouth having curled upward in a half-smile, tears tracking down his cheeks and through his stubble like tiny pachinko balls. “When I promised to never let you go, I meant it.”

I began to sob then, as did Tom. He pulled me onto his lap, my bottom nestled between his thighs, legs sideways, feet resting on the cushion I’d just vacated. He wrapped his left arm around my waist, the right around my shoulders, hand cradling my head and pressing it gently to his left shoulder. He rocked us back and forth, side to side, his face buried in my hair. When the weeping ceased, I ran my right thumb along the base of his left one, that oddly sensual spot of flesh which allows lovers to steal moments of secret erotic pleasure in full view of the world. As he began to do the same in turn, there it was…a spark of the energy within us both demanding to be set free so it could unite each with the other’s and light our collective world ablaze. I raised my head to take stock of his expression, wondering if he felt it as well. His tongue snaked across his lips and I inhaled sharply, which earned me a an ecstatic eyeroll and a pelvic thrust from him, his cock hard against my ass. He kissed me then, both our mouths open from the start. There was no finesse in any of it, all tongues and saliva and clashing of teeth as he undid my robe and cupped my left breast in his right hand, thumb stroking back and forth over my nipple. His touch caused me to gasp and cant my hips, and I could feel his body tensing…whether it was with fear or desire, I couldn’t be certain. I removed his hand from my breast and stood up, then turned to face him as I let my robe drop from my shoulders and fall to the floor. Leaning forward, I placed my hands on his shoulders and stared into his eyes, again unsure of whether it was lust or terror at hand.  

“Tom, honey…please don’t put any pressure on yourself. It’s okay if you’re afraid. I understand. Now that I know why…I’m fine. Take your time with this. Please.”

He grabbed my hips and pulled me forward and down, his words nearly a growl. “I’m afraid I’ve reached the point wherein the chances of me dying are far greater if I can’t have you right now as opposed to any other scenario.” He looked up at me and for a second or two I would have sworn it was Loki whose eyes I saw, but then Tom was back where he belonged, expression now pleading. “Will you ride me?”

I nodded, placing one knee on either side of his lap. He didn’t even bother with removing his shorts, instead pushing back the elastic just enough to allow him to reach in and free his cock. When the head of it connected with my wetness we both groaned. I shifted forward so he was poised at my entrance but paused before welcoming him inside, needing assurance that he was certain about taking this step.

“Are you sure this is okay?”

He answered without hesitation, voice thick with desire. “Yes. I’m sure. I want you. I need you. I need to be inside you. Yes.”

I lowered myself onto his cock, relishing in the feel of it stretching me, filling me…of how it melded two separate beings into a combined entity that pulsed with unified power and unequaled pleasure. Tom’s head had lolled back onto the back of the couch, eyes closed, his elegant neck and jawline demanding attention from my tongue as I began to circle my hips. I was careful to avoid the bruised area, licking around and down until I reached the hollow of his collarbone, and the whine such ministrations elicited caused my unhurried gyrating to turn to a forceful, rapid rise and fall. His eyes opened, head lifting off the couch as he reached around to take hold of my ass cheeks, one in each hand, pulling outward.

“Maude. Oh Maude. MAUDE. Don’t stop please don’t stop I love you I love you I love you…” His lips found mine, tongue thrusting into my mouth as I rode him harder until he came, his breath and mine one and the same as his come painted my walls in a continuous gush of warm spurts that I thought might go on forever. His index finger found my clit and I orgasmed instantly, clenching and squeezing around him as if my body was insistent on locking him in place, an idea I thoroughly supported. It wasn’t until he broke the kiss and that I noticed he was panting, and I took his face in my hands, the past minutes eclipsed by a deep-seated concern for his well-being.

“Are you okay? Can you breathe? Do you have any pain? Tom?”

He inhaled, then exhaled, smiling softly. “No pain. Nothing unusual, just the normal effect being incredibly well fucked by my gorgeous wife has on me. I’m fine.” His smile faded, replaced with an expression of concern likely similar to the one he’d seen me wearing seconds before. “How are you? Everything okay?”

I nodded. “Yep. I’m good. Exhausted, but good. And all of a sudden I really, really want salt and vinegar potato chips. Like, bad. They have those here, right? Man…I can almost taste them…wow, this is…”

His smile returned as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, our chests pressed together. “That sounds like it might be a craving. I believe I’m obligated to dress and head out now, in the middle of the night, to track down your snack of choice and bring it home posthaste.”

Though I admittedly salivated at the thought, my body’s need for sleep overrode what was in essence just a ‘want’. “As much as I appreciate your willingness to do so…no. The only place you’re going is back to bed with me. If you’re willing to risk round two, that is.” His left eyebrow rose, a small smirk that for some ridiculous reason made me blush appearing on his face. I rolled my eyes in an effort to distract him from the pink-hued heat that I could feel reaching my cheeks. “I meant round two as in a boxing match. You know, because I punched you? Round of boxing.”

He rubbed the tip of his nose against mine. “Oh goodness me…it appears I’ve got a blushing bride on my hands. Well, technically, on my cock, but…”

I covered my face with my hands as I shook my head. “Do you always have to notice EVERY LITTLE THING Tom? Seriously.”

He pulled my hands away carefully and kissed my forehead. “It’s adorable. Reminds me of the day we met…when we were in Kauai Pasta. You were sipping your soda and I watched the flush spread from your chest up your neck and that’s when you took too big a sip and began to choke.”

My jaw dropped. “Oh my god, you saw that? I was, like, half-joking about you noticing every little thing. Christ in a sidecar.”

Shrugging, he brought my left hand to his lips and placed a kiss in the center of my palm. “In my defense, I was bewitched. Mesmerized by your beauty, your essence…your everything. And I’ve always wondered what you were thinking of in that moment…”

“Oh you have, have you? Allow me to fill you in then. The server had just asked us if we wanted cocktails and I thought hmm, I wonder how that particular compound word came to be and that led me to…your cock, Tom. I was thinking about your cock.”

His brow furrowed, eyes narrowed in disbelief. “No you were not.”

I nodded, lips pressed together, eyes wide. “Oh, but yes I was. And, like, I’ve never STOPPED thinking about it so…you know, here we are.”

He roared with laughter, and I realized that it had been entirely far too long since I’d heard that sound, which made me tear up because that laugh…it was akin to a hymn, at least when it fell upon my ears, and my god, how I’d missed it. How I’d missed him.  When he noticed that not only had I not joined in but was visibly upset he guided my head to rest on his shoulder, one hand wound in my hair and the other rubbing my back as he whispered softly.

“Maude, it’s all right. I understand that you may be sad, or angry…whatever it is you’re feeling, I’m here for you. I’m so very, very sorry I haven’t been. But I am now. I’ll help you through all of it. I know it won’t always be easy, for either of us, but we can do it. Together. Together, there’s nothing we can’t do.”

I lifted my head and leaned back, reaching up to trace his jawline with my right index finger. “I’m not sad, really…and I’m not angry…it’s just…I just…I missed you.” I gestured down to where we remained joined. “I missed this. That’s probably selfish and stupid but you…you’re a part of me and this is when you’re MOST a part of me and…and…I’m very, very sorry too. I wasn’t there for you, either. And you’re right about it not always being easy, because this is the big leagues of fuckery. I’m afraid of closed doors and…hello, night terrors. Sometimes it’s hard to be grateful when you’re overwhelmed by fear, but I know for sure I need to turn my focus toward what’s good, and there really, truly is an astonishing abundance of good, isn’t there? I’m here, you’re here, Prog will be here too soon enough…we are blessed, and it’s true…together, there’s nothing we can’t do. I love you. So much. So, so much. My god, we’re having a baby. It still doesn’t seem real…”

He smiled. “I have a sneaking suspicion that after your appointment tomorrow it will seem very, VERY real. In just a few hours, we’re going to get to see Prog. It’s…it’s…”

My eyes squeezed shut. “You mean my appointment this morning. Yikers, it’s so late it’s early and we haven’t slept and between your jaw and my knuckles we’re going to look like we had a knock-down drag out fight, but yes, WE ARE GOING TO SEE PROG.”

He lifted me by my hips, his semi-soft cock slipping out of me, then shifted me sideways so he could pick me up as he rose off the couch. “Off to bed we go, my love.” He carried me into the bedroom and placed me gently on my preferred half of the mattress, then climbed in behind me. “I love you, Maude Hiddleston. Sleep now. I’ll be right here, watching over you. Over you both.”

And I slept. It was fitful, and there were dreams…bad ones…but each time I woke from one, he was there, one arm around my waist, one leg atop both my own…warm and alive, and in that I found peace. Whenever he stirred, and he did often, I’d press my body backward into him and pull his arm tighter around me, stroking it with my fingertips until he stilled again, hopefully having found a peace of his own. The dawn came and went, the alarm began its electronic bleating at 10 AM, and we staggered to the shower hand in hand…gripping loosely, as I was still hurting, though not as much as I thought I would be. By the time we’d finished washing each other, the excitement in the air around us was palpable. Though I was still anxious about the appointment with Dr. Bresden, this was it, the moment. I patted my belly as I was drying the underside of my boobs.

“Hi in there, Prog. Big day today. Mamma and Daddy get to see you. Feel free to wave and stuff, okay? We love you.” Tom gasped, and I turned to look at him. One hand was over his mouth, and his eyes shone with tears. I tilted my head. “What?”

“I don’t…have you…I don’t think I’ve heard you do that before.”

“I have…but maybe not out loud? I think…probably only in my head. Huh. I really don’t know…”

He knelt before me on the tile, first kissing then addressing my stomach. “Prog, you are indeed loved. We can’t wait to see you, and before you know it you’ll be our here in the world with us, and we can’t wait for that, either. To share our lives with you…you, Mamma and me…our little family.” As he stood he wiped away his tears with the back of his left hand, grinning at me. “So…Mamma, then?”

Shrugging, I shook my head back and forth several times. “What can I say? Looks like my New Orleans is showing. It just sounded…”

“Perfect. It sounds perfect, Mamma.” He said it with a drawl, and I sighed.

“Godammit, Tom. That’s not supposed to be sexy.”

His grin widened. “Why not? You’re sexy, so logically...”

“Shut up with your logic.”

“As you wish, my love. Breakfast here or on the road?”

“On the road. Make it a double.”

He embraced me. “We’re off to view a miracle. What a thing.”

“It is. It so is.”

[mayardsale]

The sunshine that rested gently against the leather couch of my office signaled the halfway point of my day. April clearly intended to erase the pain and torture that January unleashed after an unrelenting November and December. Spring was in the air and my patients were clearly enjoying the season. I’d decided the previous summer that I’d give up the pace of the city that kept me awake 23 hours a day so that winter was an approval from above that I was headed in the right direction. And maybe I’d finally say yes to the not-so-subtle advances of my temptress spin-class instructor. That winter’s blanket of snow forced all of my couples to spend more time together and that made my job easier. As Erin and Jack gave me a goodbye hug, I wondered if they’d be okay without my counseling. “We owe you so much,” Erin tearfully exclaimed as she squeezed Jack’s hand. “We don’t want you to go, but I feel like you’ve taught us all that we needed to know about ourselves. We get each other now. We do.” That sentiment was repeated over and over that April. I was relieved that I could leave every relationship moving in a positive direction. My methods proved meaningful. My theories had been validated. And no couple had prospered more on that couch than my 2PM appointment, Tanya and Franklin. Honestly I didn’t have much hope for their relationship in the beginning. I wasn’t taking any new patients after my wife’s accident, but they simply wouldn’t take no for an answer. They touched a nerve with my assistant Melissa and she booked them an introductory appointment without telling me. From the outside they appeared to be a perfectly happy, normal couple, but they were complete opposites from my vantage point. And they always fought about sex. Tanya was the free spirit artist and Franklin was the bean-counting realist. Opposites attract but they have to understand their differences. Tanya and Franklin spent every minute of their relationship attempting to change themselves for each other. They had mastered this give and take so well that it took me 6 months to realize who they really were. Tanya was the manager at a bank and Franklin taught jazz piano at a prestigious university. Their previous counselors never realized who they really were because Tanya and Franklin were too busy being what the other wanted them to be. Tanya was an imposing woman at 5'10". Though she was the warm-hearted and bubbly life of the party, I was not surprised that she found herself intimidating to most people. Especially men. She totally accepted her character and flaunted her stature with fashionable heels and skirts that demanded attention. Franklin, on the other hand, had little idea that he would be considered intimidating by anyone. As a 6'1" health junky, professional athlete would be the first guess anyone would make against his chiseled physique. But once you learned that his body was the result of a battle with overeating as a youth, you could see that the book didn’t match the cover. My theories about relationships revolved around defining stereotypes and moving away from them until people understand what made them happy. Men are men and women are women. Until they’re not. Complexities in relationships occur when men and women don’t fit into neat stereotypes, outside expectations or simple biology. I landed on this simple premise when I realized that my same sex couples were used to figuring out ‘who believed what’ in the relationship. Every step of their relationship required negotiation with no default. With a man and a woman there are presumed beliefs that often go unspoken and thus unsettled. This was clearly the case with Tanya and Franklin. Their problem was that they were living the mirror of what they actually wanted. Tanya was a meticulous bean-counter in real-life, but wanted the spontaneity and whimsy that she saw in Franklin’s life. Franklin had very little guarantee that any day would ever be the same and longed for the consistency that Tanya appeared to be wrapped into at the bank. So my fix started with a simple assignment. Tanya would plan every aspect about their dates for a month except for one detail: the restaurant. Tanya would consult with her husband on every aspect along the way as she made here decisions - from what they’d wear to how they’d get there. Tanya would offer up two possible restaurants and leave it at that. Franklin’s only responsibility would be to choose which place and keep it as a surprise until they arrived. “That’s it,” Tanya complained nervously. For over six months they complained primarily about their intimacy concerns and I had them planning date nights. “My husband just told you that he’s jacking off to porn and ashamed to tell me and you want us to choose between Italian and Japanese!” “I don’t really like Japanese food,” Jack sheepishly joked. “Not the fucking point,” Tanya bit back. “Try it for a month,” I quietly prescribed as I closed my notebook. “We’ll check back in and see how it’s going.” Fuming, Tanya grabbed her bag while Franklin followed her out of my office. Melissa recognized the tension as they passed through the office to the elevator. “Date night?” she asked already knowing the answer. A month later, Tanya and Franklin returned. “So what’s up?” I eagerly questioned them once they settled onto the couch. For forty-five minutes Tanya and Franklin described their dates along with their prescribed planning. Tanya was a force of nature with respect to organization as she left no detail unresolved. From what shoes Franklin wore to where they might sit in any given restaurant. They openly discussed their likes and dislikes until the day of the date. The surprise of the restaurant or concert or event would remain until they arrived. Of their nine planned dates, two had to be postponed because of some emergency or another. On one date Franklin gave away the surprise by asking too many questions about the chef at one restaurant. But in all, the assignment proved fruitful. As they spoke I kept an overly upbeat demeanor that probably confused them. “Excellent!” I bounded after they completed their recap. “We’ve had 9 really amazing date nights,” Tanya opened, “but that’s not really why we’re here.” “Don’t get us wrong,” Franklin chimed in. “We definitely talked more and enjoyed being out, but that spark didn’t translate at home. You know. In the bedroom.” “Interesting,” I replied in confusion. “Tanya, did you enjoy planning every detail of your dates?” “Not really, but I would do anything to make this work,” Tanya answered. “Honestly, it wasn’t that big of a deal because I do it every day, all day at work.” “Was it a problem for you to not know where you’d ultimately end up?” I asked as I leaned into Tanya. “Actually, that was the exciting part,” Tanya responded with a flicker of understanding. “He even blindfolded me so I …” “Franklin,” I interrupted as Tanya trailed off, “did you like having the evening fully planned out?” “I guess,” Franklin answered as though I had asked something deeper. “As we planned each date I thought more about it before the day arrive.” “Did that anticipation make the food taste better?” I asked as I stared at my notebook. “Yes,” Franklin acknowledged. “Tanya,” I volleyed, “how was the food at the restaurant when you figured out where he was taking you 3 days before?” “It was okay,” she replied. “I didn’t love it.” “Franklin,” I jumped again, “how was your day at work after those nights when your plans were cancelled.” “Terrible!” Franklin happily exclaimed as he recognized the pattern. “So our next assignment will be …” Tanya pushed me as they clasped hands like many clients before them. “For the next month, Tanya will schedule every sexual activity that you two discuss with two potential … executions,” I offered. “The discussion, build-up and anticipation of your interaction will drive Franklin mad while the surprise of what actually happens will boil Tanya’s blood.” Tanya and Franklin sat on my couch with their mouths wide open. “Just remember,” I added as I stared deeply into Tanya’s eyes while speaking to Franklin. “Tanya needs spontaneity and surprise to make this work. You may need to bring a few unrequested surprises to the party to keep her entertained.” “And Tanya,” I continued, “you must understand that Franklin’s anticipation must ultimately be quenched or the tease will be answered with resentment instead of joy.” Tanya nodded, but I wanted to make sure she understood when I added, “Don’t leave him hanging.” As they exited my office I was satisfied with where they were headed, but they would overachieve like no other couple I’ve encountered. “We fucked on our patio this morning,” Tanya joyously exclaimed just as my office door closed. Franklin simply smiled with content. “I gave him the choice of a blowjob in the shower or fucking me on the patio two days ago. We texted about it nonstop until he simply pulled me out of bed this morning and propped me against our patio window. FUCK!!” “So all is well,” I acknowledged. For months our sessions were filled with the most explicit acts of lust that my office would ever hear. On the days when one of them would come to the office solo because the other was traveling, they would feel the need to raise their level of detail. “Anal plug or ball gag?” Franklin quizzed me on a Friday afternoon. Where most couples would have shared how things were better, Tanya and Franklin bolstered about how they were now planning sexual escapades out by months in advance. Other couples I found more challenging, but there was definitely a magnetic chemistry between these two that was blossoming now. They understood what made the other tick. Honestly, their breakthrough, along with their openness of constant stories of desire and pleasure, gave me the strength to plan my move out west. “Six months? We have to do something BIG!” Tanya exclaimed when I shared with them my plans to close my office. “You have done so much for us.” “How about Barista vs Bartender?” Franklin offered up with a devious look on his face. “Are you sure?” Tanya answered with an equal sense of menace. “Barista vs Bartender?” I asked, no longer wanting to be an outsider to the conversation. “Before we came to you,” Franklin started, “Tanya and I discussed opening up our marriage. We knew we weren’t strong enough as a couple to handle it but we were out of ideas. Now that we’ve been enjoying this magical ride we’ve been putting all sorts of crazy ideas back on the table. We’ve always had options like threesomes on the table, but they sat next to two more conservative ideas.” “That way we’d have a way out if we got cold feet,” Tanya explained. “But we’ve been dancing around the idea of Tanya giving a blowjob to either the barista near my office that flirts with her when she comes to visit me or the bartender near her office that flirts with her when I visit her,” Franklin glowingly recalled as he shifted his pants to disguise the hard-on that was growing from their description. “Quite a big step,” I commended them knowing that the anticipation was really what drove them. Should they actually act on the idea or not, their talking about it was giving both of them indescribable pleasure. “Next April. Barista vs Bartender,” Tanya and Franklin quietly spoke to each other as if I weren’t in the room. I was a little nervous that they were going to fuck right there in front of me. Wouldn’t have shocked me one bit. And then winter came and life got back to normal. All of my couples were forced to spend time together discussing their issues and enjoying solutions - dressed or naked. When the snow finally melted and spring arrived, a sense of romance captured everyone’s hearts. I was finally building up the nerve to go out with my spin-class instructor even though I’d be leaving in two months. Better late than never. Though we hadn’t discussed 'Barista vs Bartender’ in several months, the thought had always been in the background. I knew they hadn’t forgotten about it, but the topic hadn’t been raised in front of me. Until March. “I have a surprise for Tanya,” Franklin announced after Tanya detailed their plans for this summer in South America. “I asked some of my students to do some recon for me. Tanya, please check your email.” Tanya pulled out her phone and opened her personal email. She had a puzzled look on her face and then she bit her upper lip. “Oh my,” she melted. “I asked two of my attractive female students to request dic-pics from the Barista and the Bartender,” Franklin explained. “Appears that the two young men were happy to oblige. Tanya, any thoughts?” I had never felt more uncomfortable in my life. I had always heard about these conversations after the episode. Never before the act. This was definitely new territory. “Well, I have to say,” Tanya thought aloud, “I’m still not sure if I want you to watch me sucking one of these dicks or if I’d prefer to tell you about it after. Either way, I’d definitely swallow either one of them. I also don’t know if I’d make it a show - ya know, get naked, lap dance, etc - or just unzip and start squeezing.” “How about we talk about it on the ride home?” Franklin said as he saw how uncomfortable I was becoming. “We’ve got a couple of weeks to decide.” As they left my office this time, Melissa scheduled their last appointment. I definitely needed to take my spin-class that afternoon. While I did a pretty decent job keeping focus for the next couple of weeks, I must admit that the couple before Tanya and Franklin had very little of my mindspace. I was anxious to know what happened with the Barista or the Bartender or both. Had they already finished the act? Did they even go through with it? I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Then Tanya entered my office alone. “Franklin had to go to London for a week,” Tanya explained as she settled into the couch for one last session. My face must have been full of disappointment to see her solo, so she began to share more. “So, I told Franklin that I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to go through with this Barista vs Bartender thing. The anticipation was unbelievable over this last six months. But the reality of it all is a different vibe.” I nodded my head as I understood her dilemma. “He told me he wasn’t exactly certain how he felt when I dropped him off at the airport,” Tanya continued. “I feel like we discussed every possibility of this scenario and I’m not sure why we are still on the fence. I’ve dreamed of sucking off both the Bartender and the Barista. Sometimes when I’m sucking Franklin’s dick I imagine it’s either one of theirs. I just can’t decide what to do anymore,” Tanya proclaimed. “Maybe the anticipation is really all that you two needed,” I said in hopes of settling her confusion. “You two have come a long way in …” I began to explain when her phone began to vibrate. “It’s Franklin,” Tanya exhaled as she opened her text. I was trying not to be nosy but I felt like I had as much right to know as she did. The air in the room was being baked by the midafternoon sun and I began to sweat until a big smile and a sigh of relief came from Tanya. As she typed back her response, I could see her mouth the question, “Are you sure?” while she bit her upper lip. She then looked up at me in silence as she awaited his response. We smiled nervously at each other. In seconds, her phone buzzed and she sighed, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.” “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I offered, when I really wanted to know whether it was the Barista or the Bartender. But before I could ask, Tanya cleared her throat and said, “Franklin wants me to do it naked but with heels on while he’s in London. He wants to hear all about it when he gets home.” I then attempted to unravel here statement to decipher whether her act would involve the Barista or the Bartender. That’s when Tanya walked towards me and dropped her skirt to the floor. Her purple lace thong concealed very little as she stopped just in front of me. With little hesitation, Tanya dropped to her knees in front of my chair and released my hardening dick from my pants with her blue and white manicured nails. “Thank you for everything,” Tanya smiled up at me just before pushing my dick deep into her mouth as Melissa opened the door and watched. Surprise.

[multishipperlove]

More from this lovely sastiel AU (shhh, I know I’m the only one who cares about this) bc I wrote this months ago, when I also posted the first thing, but meh... I’ll never complete anything written in my LIFE so might as well post my ramblings here.  Complete backstories for this AU under the cut: 

Sam and Cas meet at a support meeting for single dads or single parents in general. Claire is four, Jack just turned three a few days ago.

Sam and Jack – Sam met Jack's mother, Kelly, while they were both still at the beginning of their college careers. Jess had just died, leaving Sam grieving and not quite as emotionally stable as he would have liked. Due to this, and some other problems (drug use? Sam and Kelly both getting their fixes from Ruby, Sam sobers up after the whole pregnancy thing, realizing he's slowly loosing control. It takes time and a shit ton of effort, regular AA meetings, but he's probably never been as proud of himself as he's after “getting over” his addiction. He's aware that Kelly might not have made it), their relationship never really became serious, always being an on-off sort of thing. The pregnancy was definitely not planned. They talked about it, a lot, considering what possibilities they had and what they wanted to do. In the end, they made the decision to get an abortion. They agreed to split the costs and that Sam would drive her, as well give her all the support he could, emotional and otherwise. But the morning he arrived to take her to the clinic, she was gone. The only thing left was a letter, telling him she'd changed her mind and not to come looking for her. Nevertheless, Sam was worried sick and wanted to find her, if for nothing else than to offer child support or something. He took the letter to the police, but was told they couldn't do anything since she'd gone away willingly. During the next couple of days, weeks and months he kept trying to contact her, but kept running into dead ends. Eventually, he decided to stop trying.

About two and a half years later, when he was almost done with law school, she suddenly returned. One Saturday evening he opened the door to see her with a crying toddler on her hip, looking completely exhausted and Sam quickly realizes that she's probably also still using, or using again. She all but drops the baby off with him, telling him it's all too much and if he keeps screaming, she might hurt him. Before he can even ask for the little guy's name, she's gone.

The next few days are a blur and an eternity at the same time. He finds an envelope in the box she dropped off, containing some important papers and Jack's birth certificate. Jack is also the name stitched into the baby blanket the toddler won't let go off, and seeing the shaky stitching, Sam's pretty sure that Kelly did that herself. The next morning he goes shopping, and after that he drags Jack to every person who thinks might be able to help him. There's so much he needs to worry about, custody, whether the boy's going to stay with him or not, what the legal situation is, if the child is well, if he can even afford a damn kid because he still has six months of law school left and god knows it's not getting easier after that. It's Tuesday when he realizes he hasn't even called his brother yet, or any of his friends, and after dialling his brother's number with shaking fingers he has his first breakdown. But Jack has just fallen asleep in the new crib in his bedroom, so he tries to keep it quiet. Luckily, Dean already knows about the whole story with Kelly and seeing how freaked his little brother is, he manages to stay calm. He tells their “uncle” Bobby, the man who took them in after John threw them out, and asks for a few days off to help Sam get settled. Or find an adoption agency, whatever he needs. Bobby feels like he wants to yell at Sam for not calling sooner and tells Dean to get going.

Later, after being called to come back in by a doctor, Sam's told that Jack shows some symptoms that could come from drug consume during the pregnancy. However, without Kelly there to tell them what she took, they can't be sure and will just have to see how Jack develops. Cue Sam's second breakdown. After that, Sam notices that Jack is a bit slow at times, needing more time to understand things than other kids, and doesn't do well in social situations. He's a clingy kid, and at first very shy. Later he gets over that a bit but still remains socially awkward and too naïve for his own good at times. “I was almost sober for nine months, it was hell!”  “'Almost'?!”

After about six months of living with the kid, Sam wouldn't give him up for anything. He's fully accepted his responsibility of being a parent and loves Jack with all his heart. Jack often asks for his mother, but with time it becomes less. Sam has a feeling that it's not the first time she's dropped him off somewhere without coming back for a while. He picks up his studies again, after having taken a leave for a few months, his professors/boss thankfully being understanding, and things seem to get back to normal. Bobby and Dean are already attached to Jack as well.

Then, in the middle of the day this time, Kelly is suddenly back. And she demands that Sam lets Jack go with her. Sam refuses, naturally, and tries to talk to her at first. About how much better Jack is doing in a stable home, how he'll need special care with some things that Sam will be able to provide once he's found a job, and how much he loves the kid. But Kelly starts to get hysterical, and eventually he's forced to throw her out. She threatens him, telling him she'll take it to court and that Jack is legally hers. As soon as he hears that Sam panics, suddenly realizing that he never did, in fact, look into the legal situation. Which is beyond stupid since he's a lawyer. So he rings up an old friend who went into family law and who knows about his situation, asking him for advice. At least until he can make an appointment with someone else, because right now he's desperate. When the first letter from Kelly's lawyer arrives, Sam's prepared.

The custody battle takes years, and Kelly refuses to give up. It's still going by the time Sam finds himself at the first support meeting, and he's still afraid that he'll have to give Jack up despite knowing that it would be ridiculous and that no judge would give Kelly sole custody after what she's done. He also tries not to take Jack to court appointments with him, knowing it's not fair on the little boy. He's offered Kelly early on that she can come and visit them though. So far, she hasn't.

One day his baby sitter calls in sick, or with an emergency of their own, and Sam isn't able to get a replacement in time for the court date. Not knowing how to help himself, but remembering that one of the other parents in the support group (a remarkable hot parent, but he tries not to think about that because what the fuck Sam, that guy lost his wife not too long ago) gave him their number to set up a playdate, he eventually calls Cas. Cas is more than happy to help out. Since Sam and him are both new in town, new in the support group, and their kids are almost the same age, he'd been hoping to hear from the man. If he can help out, all the better.

Sam doesn't know that, of course, and feels incredibly guilty for dropping Jack off at the other man's house. Once he gets back from the appointment, obviously exhausted and mentally drained, Cas even invites him to stay for dinner (since he just got done anyway, and oh, what a coincidence, he made too much). Sam keeps thanking him during the dinner and promises to make it up to Cas, maybe with a coffee or two when he's got the time. Neither of them is aware of the accidental flirting, like the exhausted idiots they are.

Cas and Claire – Castiel Jimmy Novak married what he thought to be the love of his live, Amelia Everett, when he was 18, because they were both from conservative families. And living together, out of wedlock, is a sin. They even bought a house, getting them several hundred thousand dollar of debt. And for a while, they were happy. Cas got a job as an accountant (he's good with numbers) and Amelia agreed to stay home and take care of the household. She was never really happy with that though, and things quickly started to go south when she wanted to take a job as well. Cas, as the head of the household, didn't want to feel like he couldn't take care of his family, and this was only one of the issues which kept coming up in their fights. But being the good Christians that they are, they wanted to make things work out and were willing to work on their marriage as well, even if it wasn't perfect. Their efforts were renewed once Amelia realized she was pregnant, and they were happy once more. Head over heels, actually. But Cas' blind faith as well as his blind obedience when it came to his own father or his boss still worried his wife, and she knew it wouldn't last.

And just like she had expected, about a year after Claire was born, everything took a turn for the worse again. Cas started to get more aggressive, yelling at her or even the kid when something didn't go his way, demanding obedience from her and dragging them around as if they were his property. She knew it wasn't right, and her friends kept telling her that it was abusive, and that her husband had some serious problems. Nonetheless, she stood by him. Until about another year later, when he started yelling at Claire, yelling at a two year old, at the table because she'd dared to reach for the food before they'd said praise. Trying to stay calm she'd gotten up, gathered her daughter and told Cas that she was leaving. He'd tried to stop her, of course, but he had never gotten physical. Which she was thankful for, otherwise she wasn't sure if she'd made it out that night. She knew her husband was going through a crisis, but that was no excuse for the way he'd been acting. She was able to stay at a friends house at first and told Cas that, if he ever wanted to see her and their daughter again, he'd need to change.

That was the first time Cas realized just how much he'd fucked up. He had known before, kind of, always feeling guilty after treating her like shit. He'd thought of his own mother, and how he'd sworn that he wouldn't become his father. Apparently, he'd failed in that regard. A few days later he called his family, to tell them what happened, only to learn that Amelia had now been shunned by her parents for being a disgrace of a wife and that both her parents and his parents were on his side. After a heated discussion with his father, that he didn't want their support and that he deserved what she'd done, that he was glad that she'd gotten Claire out of the house as well, he really decided to make a difference. First, he moved out of the house so Amelia and Claire could move back in. He got a small apartment and send every penny he could spare to his wife and child. And he started therapy, knowing full well (after already having gone through a bunch of psychology books as a teenager) that he wouldn't be able to break his own cycle of abusive behaviour without help. It took a lot of time, and several set backs, but eventually Amelia started to trust him again. At least she knew he was trying. Six months after Claire's third birthday, they agreed that he could move back in with them. The day before he did, Amelia was killed in a car accident.

Once again, Cas' entire world was shattered and this time he was the only one left to pick up the pieces. His family had turned away from him after he'd gone off at his father, and he'd never managed to find friends where he lived. Claire had always been a handful, and he had no idea how to raise a child on his own. For the first couple of months he stayed in the house with her, only going to work and to therapy, which helped him over the worst. Then he got a job offer in a different city, and the pay he was being offered was just too good to pass it up. So they packed their things, he promised Dr. Churley to find a new therapist, and off they went. Finding a therapist wasn't easy, but at least he found some support groups which he was sure would get him over the first couple of months. One that dealt with anger issues (though he mostly had that under control by now), one for depression, one for survivors of child abuse and... and one for single parents. And he thought why the hell not, he could need all the help he could get at the moment. At least one of these groups had to be good, and maybe even one good group would be enough.

When he got to know a certain Sam Winchester at his first group meeting, he was convinced that it had been the right decision. (Maybe later, Cas introduces him to the group for child abuse survivors as well because he realizes that Sam's got issues too)

Also, they'll both freak out a bit about being attracted to each other. Mutual Pining, naturally, with both of them thinking the other is straight.

Cas has issues because of his faith, Sam has issues because his bisexuality was one of the reasons he and his brother had to leave home. When John caught him kissing another guy in his room when they were supposed to be doing their homework, he'd freaked out. It had been one of the worst beatings Sam had ever gotten from his father, and that was saying something. Dean had found him at their secret hiding spot, still bleeding and trying hard not to cry his eyes out. For a moment, Sam had been afraid of his brother's reaction as well, but Dean had only hugged him and promised him he'd be save now. Then he'd loaded him into the Impala and driven them to Bobby, who'd already been waiting with open arms. Beyond a few overheard phone calls which mostly consisted of yelling, that was pretty much the last thing Sam had ever heard from his father.

[cannedapricot]

Triwizard Tournament! Kang Daniel | Part 1

my potterhead self is showing fuck

includes a teensy bit of harry potter spoilers!!

kang daniel

there wasn’t a being in the castle who didn’t know his name

the sixth year gryffindor beater who had a swarm of girls following him everywhere?

yeah, that’s him

the sorting hat had contemplated whether to place him in hufflepuff or gryffindor for a while in his first year

the hat was finally about to put him in hufflepuff until danny boy here hoped for gryffindor

the hat sighed lol

“is it because harry potter was in gryffindor?”

“no, the gryffindor animal is a lion right???? and a lion is basically a huge cat!!”

so the hat was like,

“uh, ok kid if that’s how you want it”

and then announced gryffindor to the whole school

everyone thinks that daniel’s a pure blood because??? he looks so natural with magic he must’ve grown up with it

but danik’s a half blood!

his dad was a pure blood who fell in love with a muggle 

but he did indeed grow up with magic

his mom didn’t even care that his dad was a wizard lol 

she was even excited about it!!

so magic was used around the house like any pure blood’s house lmao

“hey dad!! could you pass me the chips?”

“sure!! Wingardium Leviosa!!”

daniel got his first cat when he went shopping for textbooks with his dad in his first year

but fell in love with another cat when he went shopping with ong in his third year

and bought it on a whim

BUT 

you’re only supposed to bring one pet to hogwarts :’)

so ong is forced to say that peter’s his pet in front of teachers :’))

daniel LOVES care of magical creatures

that one student that thinks blast ended skrewts are cute

and whenever daniel starts gushing over them, ong receives so much second hand embarrassment that he pretends to not know daniel

even though the whole school knows that they’re basically the second fred and george weasley 

and so naturally, they were regulars at weasley’s wizard wheezes 

filch hates all of them lmao

this particular year, it was rumored that there would be another triwizard tournament held at hogwarts

nobody knew who started the rumor

but ongniel heard of it the second they stepped foot on platform 9 ¾

they knew what it was obviously

you’d have to be a fresh new muggle born to not know

seongwoo was hYPED ASF

“LISTEN BUDDY,,,, WE HAVE TO TRY GET OUR NAMES IN THE CUP”

daniel just chuckled and went along with it

“it’s not like we’d get chosen anyways”

and lo and behold, after the sorting ceremony,

mcgonagall announces the tournament in a tone of, “i-opposed-to-this-idea-but-the-others-were-all-for-it-so-here-we-are”

she repeats 18305 times that,

“ONLY wizards and witches of the age SEVENTEEN AND OVER may participate”

while glaring at ongniel 

ongniel snickers at this because,

“thERE’S GOTTA BE A WAY TO GET PAST LMAO”

you were a ravenclaw in the same year as daniel

you were also a muggleborn who had no idea that the magical world existed!

so you were curious and excited about everything

you’re eagerness to learn everything about the magical world led you to being sorted into ravenclaw

you were appointed prefect last year and you’d bEEN STOKED!!!!

because being a prefect meant!!!!

thaT THE PROFESSORS!!!

RECOGNIZED YOUR SKILLS!!!!!

you knew daniel of course, you had charms with the gryffindors in fourth year

you had even and shared a desk with daniel 

because flitwick had enough of ongniel and split them up lmao

to your surprise you found daniel not as mischievous as you originally thought 

and you also found yourself getting dragged into pranks with onglniel thanks to you getting along well with niel

“hey guys,,,, we shouldn’t be doing this,,,,”

“come one y/n!! live a little!!”

“bUT WHAT IF WE GET EXPELLED???”

“won’t happen. now keep watch for filch while we set these wet start no heat fireworks up”

you just stand there flabbergasted while daniel sends you the cutest smile

ong was way too busy with the fireworks to care about what you two do lmao

basically

you were the only sane one in the trio

kind of

so when mcgonagall announces the triwizard tournament

you mumble,

“i thought they weren’t doing that anymore after diggory’s death”

while turning your head to look at the boys at the gryffindor table

and to your expectation, they were whispering excitedly to each other

after the great feast, you wanted to talk the two out of it but head boy! minhyun who was also from ravenclaw catches you and reminded you that,

“y/n you are a prefect!!!!111!1 remember what a prefect has to do???”

and so you sigh and herd the junior students towards the ravenclaw tower

next day during breakfast, you zoomed over to the gryffindor table

not caring that all your ravenclaw friends were like,

“ooooooh is y/n gonna have breakfast with their boyfriend? ;))))”

ongniel didn’t even realize you were there until you slaMMED YOUR FIST ON THE TABLE

and congatulations!!!!111!1!1

you’ve officially got the two’s attention!1!!!

along with everyone else in the great hall

a w k s

everyone kinda returns to their breakfast after a second tho because

“oh it’s that time of the week where y/n tries to stop ongniel from doing something stupid”

it happens so often it’s normal for everyone

“don’t even try put your name in the cup”

you hissed

“holy shit you almost sounded like you were speaking parseltongue there”

“i will fucking end you ong”

ongniel is shook™

you were dead serious this time

“people d i e. you’ve heard of the scary death count. you’ve heard about diggory. not to mention you’re u n d e r a g e”

ok you may have sounded like a nagging mother

but you were genuinely worried

what if they succeed in putting their names in???

whAT IF THEY GET PICKED?????

ongniel bursts into laughter and say the line they always say to you

“it’s not gonna happen y/n. listen, i know you’re worried for us but even if we get to put our names in, we won’t get chosen!”

“even if we were chosen, mcgonagall wouldn’t let us participate!”

the two boys, even though they always do the exact opposite of what you say, know that you’re just looking out for them

“but even so, you shouldn’t even take that-”

“we’re going to be fine y/n. go back to the ravenclaw table and eat with your friends!!”

daniel says, giving you the sweetest smile

the same smile that you can’t say no to

and so, reluctantly, you shuffle back to your table

your friends giggling and asking if you asked daniel out and got rejected

“i didn’T ASK HIM O U T!!”

come september the 30th, all the halls were filled with whispers of the incoming beauxbatons and durmstrang students

and while your friends mumble about classes finishing early and how they’d be missing out on history of magic

you found yourself daydreaming and dropping further away from your group

“y/n!! come on, hurry up or we’ll miss seeing their entrance!!”

“coming-”

just as you were picking up your pace, you felt an arm wrap around you

“sorry!! we’ll be borrowing y/n!”

looking up, you meet the gaze of daniel

with ong on your other side but really all you see is danik 👀👀

your friends burst into giggles and wave before heading off

leaving you with the two trouble makers

standing the middle of the hallway

with people bumping into you guys

“can’t you two kidnap me in a better place??”

“what? you expected us to corner you in the shrieking shack??”

rolling your eyes, you turned around, removing daniel’s arm from you in the process

“what do you two need?? i’m a prefect i have to go keep the ravenclaws in order so cut to the chase”

grinning, seongwoo slides up next to you

“say y/n, you know how to brew an ageing potion right???”

“yeah”

“could you maybe-”

“nope, not doing it”

the halls were empty by this point

everyone was outside waiting for the beauxbaton students and durmstrang students

“but none of us know at all!”

“well, you’ll just have to find someone else to do it.”

you turn around with a snap and head towards the grounds

leaving ongniel standing in an open hallway

“by the way,”

the two boys snap their heads up, eyes filled with hope

“george said that he and fred tried using an ageing potion and it didn’t work. i doubt that it’ll work this time either”

they were even more deflated

“do you think minhyun would make us one?”

“doubt it”

the two sigh in unison

“where have you been? you know how bad jaehwan is at his job of being prefect”

head boy! minhyun hisses to you the moment you arrive

“sorry, two dumbasses delayed me”

just as you say dumbasses

daniel and ong step out onto the grounds lmao

and minhyun winces

“i feel bad for you”

“i feel bad for me too”

suddenly a gust of wind that makes everyone hold onto their books blows past

and everyone gasps as they see the horse drawn carriages arriving

you catch ongniel oogling at the students of beauxbatons the second they step out

and you unknowingly frown

minhyun catches this and smirks

“jealous that your crush is staring at another?”

“whaT NO--- DANIEL AND I ARE JUST FRIENDS”

“ah, so it’s daniel”

“IVBSIBVOSB WHATNO-”

“why didn’t you deny anything about seongwoo??”

and shit

ok you may have a teensy tiny little crush on the tall boy

b u t

you weren’t obvious

 r i g h t ? ? ? ?

“you were obvious y/n, try harder”

fuck

and while you beat yourself up about it inside

minhyun looks at the emerging boat of durmstrang with a small smile

as the durmstrang students step out, minhyun leans over to you whispering about how he bets that that one durmstrang student would be champion

this action doesn’t go unnoticed tho

out of the corner of his eye,

danny boy notices

and boy was he not in a good mood because of it

“hey seongwoo”

“yeah bro?”

“do you think,,,, y/n’s dating minhyun?”

ong nearly chokes on his spit

“wHaT???”

following danik’s gaze, ong sees you whispering back to minhyun

“holy shit they might be actually dating”

narrowing his eyes, daniel watches as you and minhyun walk back inside

minhyun extends his arm towards you

and you let out a hearty laugh before taking his arm

after that day, you haven’t made conversation with daniel

you were ?????confused as heck

because

you can’t remember ever offending him????

like????

usually when you brush pass the two in the hallways, daniel would ruffle your hair

but now he acts like he didn’t see you???

ong apologizes on his behalf

“i have no idea why he’s being like this,,, i’m sorry”

and daniel’s mad at himself for being mad at you

“are you sure,,,, that you aren’t taking y/n and minhyun’s relationship too hard??”

“i’m not. there’s no reason to”

daniel replies as he pouts behind his fantastic beasts and where to find them textbook

daniel’s obviously upset about it

and ong thinks he knows why

on the other hand, you were pacing around in the library in front on minhyun, who was reading a book on healing properties

“what if- what if- whAT IF HE’S MAD BECAUSE I WOULDN’T BREW HIM AN AGEING POTION????”

the librarian pops her head out from behind a shelf and mouths at you to “shhh”

minhyun chuckles, flipping the page

“i doubt it”

“theN WH Y”

“i have an idea of why. but it’ll unfold itself as time goes by”

you nearly pull your hair out at his answer

returning the book to it’s shelf, minhyun pats your shoulder

“here, i’ll walk you back, it’s getting late”

sighing, you follow minhyun out of the library

“aren’t you going back to the dorm?”

“i’m on night duty tonight-”

minhyun’s words cut off as you two come face to face with the one and only

kang daniel

and ong but he’s not the main chaRACTER HE R E

danik’s lowkey trigGERED

but he stays silent and walks past you two

“uh, hey y/n!! have a nice night!!!”

ong says and also brushes past

you’re just 

“???????????whatthefuck”

and minhyun just stands there with a small smile

because he definitely knows why now

hello!! i’ve decided to split this au into two parts as it gets quite long!! i hope it’s ok with all of you,,,, anyway!! happy new year to all of you!! it’s been quite a while since i posted a scenario and i think this is my first scenario of 2018!! i hope im still relative oops

[woodworkingpastor]

Grace in the wilderness -- Acts 8:26-39 -- April 25, 2021 -- Fourth Sunday of Easter

The Lord is risen!

He is risen indeed!

I noted last Sunday that it is our secular habit to celebrate our holidays before the event and not after, while the church celebrates holidays after the event. Just as we spent the 40 days of Lent preparing for the death and resurrection of Jesus, now we spend time between Jesus’ resurrection and ascension celebrating, because 33AD is the date that governs our lives. We are an Easter people; people of the resurrection!

Please pray with me:

Good shepherd of the sheep, by whom the lost are sought and guided into the fold; feed us and we shall be satisfied; heal us and we shall be whole; lead us that we may be with you, and with the Father, and with the Holy Spirit, where you reign, one God, forever. Amen.

Many of you have asked about our trip to Portland. Simply put, we had a terrific time! Rose is doing very well there; the opportunity to “stretch her wings” has clearly been good for her. We also had a great time seeing that portion of the Pacific Northwest. If I had Power Point available this morning, I’d would have shown you pictures from our hikes in the Columbia River Gorge, our day at the Pacific coast, and the various places we visited around Portland itself.

But connected to today’s Scripture, I want to talk about the trip from our hotel in downtown Portland to Rose’s house in Gresham, a suburb about 12 miles to the east. I found myself having a bit of trouble committing the route from the hotel to her house to memory due to a number of one-way streets, bridges, interstate merges, and just being unfamiliar with the lay of the land; I was certainly glad for the Google Maps.

It wasn’t until our last day there that I noticed something that changed my perspective. It turns out that both our downtown hotel and SnowCap Community Charities are on Pine Street. It made me wonder—was it the same Pine Street in both places? It turns out that it is—just 180 blocks apart. On the day we volunteered at the food pantry, I thought we might just take Pine Street all the way there. That turned out to not be possible; Pine Street is minor neighborhood street that at one point disappears for 40 blocks. But there was another street that went all the way, so we took it instead. Because we had the time to travel through Portland (instead of around it) we really got an interesting glimpse of the city: houses, businesses, and even a restaurant we returned to for lunch.

The interstate highways are terrific if efficiency is your goal. But if you want to see what is creally happening in a place, the neighborhood streets (which sometimes an feel as intimidating as wilderness roads) are the place to be.

Salvation on a wilderness road

We do not want to lose sight of the fact that this salvation story happens on a wilderness road. The setting is as relevant as the content, for there is no place where Jesus is not Lord and there are no people who are too far away to be reconciled, no matter if we measure the distance in physical or in spiritual terms.

Philip is one of the deacons we met last Sunday; like Stephen—whose story in Acts 6 and 7 that we skipped over—Philip was appointed to make sure the Greek-speaking Jewish widows in Jerusalem were cared for. It is a task that we never see him actually doing, however, because Acts is most interested in telling the story of how the message of Jesus would spread

in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth (Acts 1:8).

Having given a gospel answer to the racial and administrative problems with the food distribution to widows, Acts simply move on.

The story abruptly shifts to Philip, who is told to take a trip. He’s not given a destination; he’s not told what he’s going to do or who he’s going to see or even how he will know he has arrived. All he is told is to travel down the wilderness road from Jerusalem to Gaza. So he goes, because Philip—like the other deacons—is

full of the Spirit and of wisdom (Acts 6:3).

He recognizes the voice calling him to serve, and he goes. As he walks down this wilderness road, the reason for his trip comes into focus. Just up ahead is a chariot returning to Ethiopia—a designation in those days that referred to the area south of Egypt. Seated inside is a high-ranking official of the queen, a man who has come to Jerusalem to worship and is now returning home. Somehow, the God of Israel has become known in this region far away from Jerusalem, and the faith of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob has taken root in this man who has the means to make the long trip to Jerusalem for worship.

What we must notice about the man is that there would have been little room for him in the rush of Jerusalem’s public, festival worship. He had invested significant time, energy, and expense to participate in a worship festival that he would have only been allowed to experience as an outsider, because he was a eunuch. As Deuteronomy 23:1 says,

No one whose testicles are crushed or whose penis is cut off shall be admitted to the assembly of the LORD.

This is not the kind of Bible verse we normally mention in polite company; you won’t find this verse artistically paired with an awe-inspiring photograph hanging in someone’s living room. But there it is, a “chapter and verse” reason why the man would have only been allowed into the outer courts of the Temple to participate in the worship of his God from a distance.

But in the fervor that often accompanies faithfulness and tradition, the people hadn’t stopped to deal with the fact that God had promised a day was to come when outsiders would be made insiders. As Isaiah would later say,

Do not let the foreigner joined to the LORD say, “The LORD will surely separate me from his people”; and do not let the eunuch say, “I am just a dry tree.” For thus says the LORD: To the eunuchs who keep my sabbaths, who choose the things that please me and hold fast my covenant, I will give, in my house and within my walls, a monument and a name better than sons and daughters; I will give them an everlasting name that shall not be cut off (Isaiah 56:3-5).

This conversation is the purpose for Philip’s trip, because the church was not looking to the literal wilderness for converts any more than they were looking to the metaphorical or spiritual wilderness to find those persons who were being left behind and left out. The Spirit’s intervention was necessary so that the church would be forced to make a connection it would not have made on its own.

Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch have a conversation about Jesus; using the passage from Isaiah the man is reading, Philip explains to him how Jesus was the Messiah prophesied in Isaiah’s message. Upon arriving at a place in the road where there is water, the man proclaims

Look, here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptized? (Acts 8:36)

It’s a fair question because he had just experienced Temple worship in Jerusalem where he was prevented from full participation. Would the faith of Jesus also keep him on the sidelines of faith?

The answer is “no.” The chariot stops and Philip and the man move immediately to the water because when faith in Jesus is authentic it will inevitably find the waters of baptism.

Finding our way on wilderness roads

The church has certainly found itself in a wilderness this past year; although it’s a stretch to call our outdoor worship venue a “wilderness,” being that this is our 58th week “in exile” from our Sanctuary and rhythms of worship, we certainly do wonder what mission and ministry will look like moving forward.

But lest we blame Covid for all that ails us, some recent surveys suggest a different source of our challenges:

Christian researcher Ryan Burge suggests that 40% of self-identified evangelical Christians attend church once per year or less. Not once a week; not once a month; once a year. That’s like “Christmas OR Easter.”

Research from the Gallup organization suggests that church membership in the United States has dropped below 50% for the first time in over a century.

You might be surprised at how many conversations I have with people who claim a belief in God and can even articulate a faith that is filled with spiritual practices like Bible reading, personal devotions, and prayer, but includes no relationship with a local church. Anecdotally, this seems to be on the rise in the people I meet.

For years I’ve heard that the church’s problems are the fault of the so-called “liberals.” But perhaps it’s not so simple. Perhaps we’ve been relying on the comfort of our own wisdom and methods and techniques and politics more than we have been trusting that God is still moving in wilderness places. If we will reject the temptation of allowing the church to be a comfortable place for the convinced and instead be a place where disciples are made and lives are transformed, then maybe today’s church can turn the world upside down like the church did in days of old.

What I’m saying is that despite the many challenges that face us, we have the spiritual resources to fulfill our calling. Could it be that Covid will function something like a fire sale—or at least a radical spring cleaning—where we are forced to admit that we’ve been hanging on to some things we haven’t needed? Might our love for worship in this outdoor space open our eyes to some new ways of being the church? Philip’s story shows that the church can function in the wilderness.

Reaching out on spiritual roads

If today’s church is going to thrive in the wilderness, then we must reevaluate our outreach.

We have a way of talking about outreach that encourages us to seek out what God is doing in the world around us and join God in that work. This is a wonderful way to understand the church’s mission. When Brethren hear this, though, our first thought is to interpret this through the lens of the second commandment, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” This, too, is excellent. The many ministries we support as a means of loving our neighbor and wanting to overcome the brokenness of the world by bearing one another’s burdens, and binding up the broken, and bringing beauty to the ugly places is always worth doing. Brethren have a long history of demonstrating to the world that we are not afraid of hard work on behalf of others.

But I sometimes wonder if our vision of outreach has gotten a bit out of balance.

The story of this text is about God literally chasing down a man who wondered about how much of a place he had in the kingdom of God so that Philip could show him the fullness of God’s grace. Both the Ethiopian eunuch and Philip would discover that in spite of their significant differences, grace would bring them into the same family.

In a recent Moderator’s Town Hall led by Paul Mundey, United Methodist bishop Will Willimon reminded listeners of a very interesting statement from John 10, where Jesus reminds the disciples,

I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd (John 10:16).

Today’s church is going to have to find where those sheep are. We must learn to come along side people and, beginning where they are,

proclaim the good news about Jesus (Acts 8:35).

These conversations will happen on contested ground, because we live in a time when even people who claim to be followers of Jesus shape their lives by values other than those of the New Testament. We will need to allow our own lives to be on display so that people will notice something different about us. Anabaptist theologian Stuart Murray reminds us that we will must

offer a [life] of peaceful witness that integrates words and deeds, personal and communal testimony, listening and speaking (The Naked Anabaptist, 83).

Sisters and brothers, these are challenging, difficult times. But out of the great challenge comes great opportunity for those willing to hear the Spirit’s calling and go to places yet unknown. Jesus is preparing the way!

[kpopchangedme]

|| Main || GOT7 || Day6 || Stray Kids || Monsta X || Jung Haein ||

JAEBEOM

⭐Out Of This World [M] || Romance - Smut - Alien!AU / Childhood Friends || [One Shot]

Jaebum was left behind, forgotten on Earth a long time ago. Even if he’s far from home, he finds himself believing that you might actually be where he truly belongs.  [11k words]

⭐Worship [M] || Smut - Boyfriend - Idol!verse - Romance || [One Shot]

A steamy shower is what you both need after your boyfriend gets back from working really hard promoting his group’s latest single.  [4.6k words]

The Shrimp [M] || Smut - Romance - Pregnancy - Newly Weds || [Drabble]

Jaebeom read so many baby-related books he’s forgotten how to enjoy some simple pleasures… [2.4k words]

Folks & Hooligans || Romance - Royalty - Masquerade || [Drabble]

The best festivals are always the ones where folks dress like royalty and princes go rogue… [2.2k words]

The Pervert on the Train || Strangers - Idol!verse - Misunderstandings - Romance || [Drabble]

When you started screaming about a pervert, it took a moment for Jaebum to understand who you were referring to exactly… [2.4k words]

Capture The Flag: The Trade || Romance - Fluff - Highshool!AU - Enemies to lovers || [One Shot]

Two teams, a lot of snow & a simple common goal. The only problem is that you’re on a losing streak and Jaebum, your mortal enemy, is way too good at this game…  [3.6k words]  A collab with @greasygyeom: Capture The Flag: The Absconding

JACKSON

⭐In-Depth [M] || Smut - F*ck Boy - University - Strangers || [One Shot]

You are about to find out why Jackson’s talents outside the basketball court are also praised by the masses…  [3.4k words]

⭐Practice Makes Perfect [M] || Angst - Romance - Smut - *First Time* -Friends to Lovers || [One Shot] 

You don’t want to be the “only” virgin in college so you ask your poor friend Jackson for… advice.  [5.4k words]

JINYOUNG

Plot Twist [M] || Romance - Enemies to Lovers - Smut || [One Shot] 

Being locked up until tomorrow morning with your biggest rival of the Archery team might not be all bad after all…  [5.5k words]

Third One’s a Charm || Romance - Married Life - Parents || [Drabble] 

Christmas morning is a little rough for Jinyoung this year…  [2k words]

Careless Fall (Hiatus) || Angst - Romance - Idol!verse || [Mini Series]

After starring together in the drama that propelled you to stardom, you spent years avoiding Park Jinyoung. However, no matter how hard you try or where you go, the ghost of what you could have been seems to follow. 

MARK

⭐Saint-Agnès de Roma || Romance - Boarding School - Enemies || [One Shot]

A scholarship student like you has no business hanging out with the cool, filthy rich, teens of your private Academy… But somehow you still end up playing a naughty game with that one guy… [8.3k words]

Hot Mess [M] (Completed) || Romance - Smut - Idol!verse || [Mini Series]  

You work at JYPE and don’t know how to read Mark Tuan, especially since that messy night… Does he truly hate your guts that much? 

Two Sheep Staring at Stars [M] || Soulmates - Friends - Smut || [One Shot]

Years ago, you couldn’t believe a man like Mark could really be your Soulmate. This morning, it’s his turn to find out, and he can’t believe you wasted all this time. [3.7k words]

Abnormality || Romance - Humour - Doctor!AU || [Drabble]

A normal medical appointment can be awfully embarrassing when the doctor examining you looks like a top model.  [1.9k words]

His Taste || Romance - Vampire - Idol!verse || [Drabble]

One night in the JYPE building Mark helps you with a work-related problem and you get a bit... overwhelmed by his proximity.  [1.7k words]

Buy Milk || Romance - Relationship || [Drabble]

Your boyfriend is trying to read, but even while you are sleeping, you are too distracting… [810 words]  A prompt for @mara-twins

YOUNGJAE

⭐The Intervention || Romance - Humour - Strangers || [One Shot]  

To his best friends’ total amazement, you decide to drastically intervene when a shy man is being played by a mean client at your bar.  [3.6k words]

The Maple Goddess || Romance - Christmas || [One Shot]  

Love is in the air at the Christmas Market when you finally get to spend some quality time with the cute guy from the ice skating rink... [4.7k words] Part of a multi-author collaboration of 7 short stories.

Sun-drenched [M] || Smut - F*ck girl - Step-siblings || [One Shot]

Every time you opened your mouth something outrageous came out but unfortunately, your new dorky step-brother seemed to be immune. [4.6k words] Part of a multi-author collaboration The Pleasure Chest

BAMBAM

Don’t Wake Up The Tiger || Storytelling - Humour - *Swearing* || [Drabble]

A tipsy Bambam recounts the nastiest fight GOT7 ever had and don’t believe whatever you’ve heard; it wasn’t his fault.  [quotes from The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger]  [2.2k words]

JAEBEOM & JINYOUNG

Starboy (Ongoing) || University - Baseball - Love Triangle || [Mini Series]

Due to a series of past “mistakes” with Starboy Im Jaebeom, your school life becomes a bit more than you can handle after you begin dating the handsome Resident doctor, Park Jinyoung.

L’Opéra (Hiatus) || Drama - Romance - Love Triangle - Childhood Friends - 1880s!AU - || [Mini Series]  

The arrival of a new sponsor turns the famous Opera House upside down. He’s very handsome, rich and a long lost friend of yours… His return in your life bothers a mysterious character who secretly yearns for you from the shadows. Inspired by “Le Fantôme de l’Opéra” a novel by Gaston Leroux

GOT7: Being unable to make you reach orgasm (M) 

GOT7: His girlfriend squirts during sex (M)

GOT7: Would he make your relationship public?

GOT7 as Zelda: Ocarina of Time main characters

GOT7 as their astrological sign traits

[Click N’ Drag] Rooftop cocktail party with GOT7

[Click N’ Drag] GOT7 visits Jurassic Park

[Click N’ Drag] GOT7 in Star Wars

|| Main || GOT7 || Day6 || Stray Kids || Monsta X ||

[itslulu42]

Bitter Tea

Part Seventeen of Ninja Dorks Flailing at Interpersonal Relations.

Finally, the long awaited reunion!  I think this story might twenty parts.

One | Previous

Kakashi leaned against the kitchen counter as he waited for the tea kettle.   The council was never easy to work with, but today had been a particularly grueling day.  The program Kakashi was advocating would be great to the village, but he had trouble getting support.  Shikaku had come up with the idea a few years back and it was a frequent discussion between the two of them.  Kakashi and Shikaku both recalled that perilous time after the Nine-tails attack, where the missions were non-stop to bolster Konoha’s strength.

The Third War had ground Konoha down to the bones on manpower and resources.  It had been exhausting keeping up appearances, and they were quite fortunate that no one had called Konoha's bluff.  This new program was perfect to start in peacetime, a way of diversifying the economy in the village so they wouldn't have to rely so heavily on missions in the future.  Konoha could not risk having the same problem again.  

Kakashi was in a position of power that allowed him to make changes but he didn't have any support.

Kakashi had been prepared to be the worst Hokage in village history when accepted the position of Rokudaime.  He could still remember how excited the village was when Minato had been appointed. He hadn't been in the village for Tsunade's appointment, but she had no trouble in cementing her role as Godaime. Kakashi had never longed for power, it wasn't his dream, and he had never tried to play politics.  But those more suited for Hokage had perished in the war, leaving Kakashi with the obligation until Naruto matured.  Now, it was a problem.

Kakashi had spent most of his time in ANBU, taking direct orders from the Hokage, always wearing more than one mask.  Most of his missions weren't even documented for sake of village secrecy.  He had the loyalty of every agent in ANBU, his teammates who he had fought next to for years.  Everyone in the village knew he was qualified to be Hokage.  But they didn't like him. And with his greatest supporters masked or dead, Kakashi found himself thwarted every time he tried to make progress.  He was prepared to the worst Hokage, but he wasn’t ready to be the most useless.

Kakashi was pulled from his thoughts as the tea kettle began to whistle.

A loud crash caused him to start, the walls and floor shaking as he grasped for a pair of hidden kunai.  He spun around, grasping the tea kettle to send it flying.  He saw a flash of pink as the tea kettle connected.

"Sakura?” Kakashi could hear her swearing as he rounded the corner.  "What are you doing here?"

Dust was hanging in the air as he entered the living room.  Sakura had kicked the door off its hinges, causing his entryway to double in size. Part of the frame was on his couch, and the door handle had cracked his television screen.  Kakashi had a clear view of Panther in the hallway, his hands atop his head in surprise.

Sakura jumped her feet. "What the emergency?  Are you poisoned?  Are we under attack?"  Her hand landed on Kakashi’s arm and his muscles tensed automatically under her touch.  

"Emergency?" He cast one more glance at Panther, who seemed calm despite Sakura’s questions.  

Interesting.

Sakura placed herself in front of him like a shield, forcing him to press against a wall to keep space between them.  "Otter sent me here with an emergency scroll.  Maybe he heard about it before you did."

Otter?

“I see.  I can assure you that everything is under control. Otter has been gone for a bit and has some out of date information.  There’s no emergency.”

Kakashi placed his hands on Sakura’s shoulders to nudge her forward and slipped into the kitchen to return his kunai into the salad spinner.  Sakura was staring at the destroyed entryway when he returned.

"I can't seem to anything right,” she whispered.  Kakashi would have missed it if it weren’t for his keen sense of hearing.  He winced as he noticed her traveling pack on the floor. She had returned from her trip, but Sasuke was nowhere to be seen.

Kakashi bent down to pick up the dented kettle.  The boiling water had spilled on the remains of his front door.  "I was just about to have a cup of tea.  It sounds like you could use one."

"I should go. I’m sorry about your kettle." Sakura scrambled away from him to pick up her bag, avoiding eye contact with him.  “And your wall.”

Something was definitely off with Sakura, and Kakashi wanted to know what it was.  Normally this sort of thing would have him running far away. Yet, when it came to Sakura, he couldn’t help himself.  

“You could stay.” Kakashi placed the ruined kettle in the trash and reached into a cabinet.  "I have another kettle in the cabinet and I could use the company.”

"My parents don’t know I’m back yet.  I could stay with them."

“Whatever you would prefer."  

Sakura nudged the broken picture of the Yondaime with her foot.  “Actually, I was hoping we could talk in private."  She glanced over the hole in the wall where Panther stood.

"I'm certain they will patch up the wall in the morning.  We don’t have to drink the tea in his room."  Kakashi saw Sakura give a sniff to her armpit out of the corner of his eye as he filled the kettle with water.  "You can wash up, while I make the tea ready."

Sakura made a squeak and then excused herself.  He was preparing the tray when the shower began to run.  Kakashi eyed the tea kettle, noting that it still had a couple of minutes before the water would be ready.  He went out to the hallway and to stand in front of Panther.

"Explain."

"I have no idea what you are talking about Hokage-sama."

"The last agent assigned the Otter mask was your cousin.  Sakura arrived prepared for an attack and that didn’t alarm you at all. The only thing that caught you by surprise was the property damage.  You brought her here with misinformation and an inappropriate use of a transportation scroll."

"You missed her. Something had to be done."

Kakashi clenched his jaw, irritated by his subordinate’s calm reply.  No one would have had pulled such a stunt on him if he was still Anbu Commander.  Unfortunately, he was Hokage, which meant that Anbu was directly responsible for his well-being.   Tsunade must have felt the same way about Kakashi every time he hid her sake a few years ago.  No wonder she always called him impertinent.  

The tea kettle began to whistle.

"We're not done with this conversation."

"Of course, Hokage-sama.”

Kakashi huffed as he returned to the kitchen, determined to apologize to Tsunade for all the grief he had put her through.  He placed the kettle on the tray before heading down the hallway.  Sakura emerged from the bathroom as he approached and he nearly dropped his tray.

Sakura had changed into one of his shirts, rather than selecting something she owned from her bag. Kakashi had let her borrow shirts before, but that was when she didn’t have her own clothes to change into. Sakura had washed with his soap and shampoo, draping herself with one of the few scents his sensitive nose could bear.

Kakashi was completely unprepared for the fierce desire that overtook him, the urge to press her against the wall and kiss her.  Sakura looked like she belonged with him, smelled like him, and he wanted to fill his other three senses with her.  Kakashi wanted to hear her gasp his name against his ear, to taste his way down her body, and to wake up with her pressed up against his side.

He bit his tongue hard to stop a swear word from leaving his mouth.

Kakashi had a tendency to dwell on regrets.  But this was completely unnecessary, tormenting himself with Sakura’s presence when he was nothing to her.  If she had worn her own clothes, showered with her soap, it would have been easier to remember those platonic boundaries.  He should have let her go to her family, to those important people in her life who had a right to her.  

Kakashi gripped the tea tray as he cleared his throat.  “Go ahead.”

Sakura gave a small smile before turning around and stepping into the seldom-used room.  Kakashi took a moment to get his bearings, trying to make a plan for the night.  He would listen to what she had to say.  He would let her stay the night if she wanted to.  And he had to tell Sakura how he felt towards her tonight or tomorrow morning.  She had no idea what she was doing to him and it wasn’t fair to her

Steeling himself, Kakashi stepped into the office, setting the tea tray down on the desk, and then pulling over a chair that sat in the corner so he could sit across from her.   “Did something happen on your trip? I thought it would be a couple of years before you returned.”

Sakura traced the brim with her fingertip.  “I thought the same thing.  I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Sasuke.”

Kakashi’s heart clenched at the breathless way she spoke Sasuke’s name.  Kakashi had only known Sakura for a few months; it was ridiculous to think that he could mean anything to her.  He thought of her declaration of love to Sasuke during the Fourth War.  He didn’t understand why it was so important for her to say those words at the time.  Only now did Kakashi truly appreciate how brave she was; he was certain that his own confession would destroy him.

He was never meant for happiness.

“And yet, here you are. What brought you back to the village so you could break down my door in the middle of the night?”

Sakura stared at her cup in silence, and Kakashi took the opportunity to memorize the sight of her, to selfishly pretend there was something between them.  Sakura raised the cup to her lips, finishing the tea in one go.  She gasped when she was done, placing her hand on her chest as she sputtered. Kakashi raised his hand to pat her shoulder, before remembering his place and retreating back to his personal space.  She placed the teacup on the desk and then turned to face him with squared shoulders and a determined face.   Her next sentence forced the air out of his lungs.

"Did I break up with you?"

Part Eighteen

[atc74]

The Convention Connection - Where It All Began (2)

Here it is, the next installment of The Convention Connection. This was a one shot originally written for Nicole, @iwantthedean, and has taken on a life of its own and is now an ongoing series. I hope y’all like it. And a very special Happy Birthday to Nicole today! Love you!

There is no disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction, please regard it as such.

Haven’t read it - CATCH UP HERE and fall into the rabbit hole

Word Count: 2000-ish

Warnings: none really, like SUPER FLUFFY (Like I am going to give it away!)

A/N: I actually had SO much to say for this installment, that it required two parts. Beta’d by the infinitely patient @just-another-busy-fangirl. Thanks Laura! You are amazing and I love you!

Nicole woke the next morning, feeling more refreshed than she had in weeks. Maybe it was having Jensen next to her; she always slept better when they were together. She attempted to turn towards Jensen, but his heavy limbs had her immobilized. She looked down to see her husband with his arms wrapped around her middle and his head resting on her stomach, still sound asleep. This tugged at her heartstrings more than she expected and she chalked it up to the hormones, but in reality, she knew they were both over the moon about this pregnancy. She wanted nothing more than to start a family with Jensen and this was just the beginning.

“Jay, Baby, you gotta move.” Nicole tried to wake him, but realized it was futile. She gently raised his one arm and managed to wriggle out from underneath him, shuffling to the bathroom. When she emerged, Jensen was finally awake and watching her as she returned to the bed.

“Sure, now you’re awake!” Nicole chided as she crawled back into the warm bed.

“I missed you,” Jensen mumbled as he pulled you closer.

“Sorry, Babe. I had to pee; you were laying on my bladder!” Nicole laughed.

“I am sorry. I was awake early, so I was talking to our son and I must have fallen back to sleep,” Jensen confessed to her.

“Son? You think it is a boy?” Nicole yawned, stretching her limbs.

“Well, I can hope it is a boy. Wait…do you know already?” Jensen fretted.

“No, no, I do not. It is a little too early anyway; we will have to wait a couple more weeks,” Nicole informed him.

“Can I come with you to your appointments? I don’t want to miss anything. I want us to do this together,” Jensen declared, kissing her soundly.

“I would really love that, Jensen. I haven’t even been to my own doctor yet. I only saw the ultrasound tech at the hospital after my shift one night. I suspected, but it was late and it was the first thing that came to mind. I heard the heartbeat; it’s really strong and the baby is healthy,” Nicole confided.

“I love you so much, Nic. I cannot wait to welcome this baby into the world with you; boy or girl, they are going to be so loved,” Jensen boasted.

“We can take one of those gender predictions things online. If you want…” Nicole offered, reaching for her phone.

“You can do that?!” Jensen marveled.

“They are not one hundred percent, but it could be fun. Let’s do it.” Nicole googled and picked a site. She entered her birthday date and due date and held Jensen’s hand before she clicked the button.

They were staring at the screen together when it populated the result: girl.

“It says we are having a little girl, Nic. We are going to have a little you running around our house soon.” Jensen grabbed her phone and tossed it aside, pulling her into his arms.

“I want a little Jensen running around, but I will take a girl. I just want a healthy baby.” Nicole kissed him and they quietly made plans for the future.

~*~

After spending most of the day lounging around the room and indulging in room service, Nicole ran herself a nice bath while Jensen watched the Rangers game. They still had a few hours before the concert so she was taking her time. They had already called and told their parents about the baby, so it was just the extended Supernatural family they would be telling tonight.

Minneapolis was hot and humid in August; this is a fact. Nicole knew this from experience and had packed accordingly, taking her expanding waistline into consideration. She had picked a blue knee length dress with a paisley pattern that would easily hide her figure with the flowing skirt and high waist. Nicole added a simple pair of platform sandals and was ready before the game was over. She took a seat next to Jensen on the couch in their room to finish watching the game. Nicole always loved baseball and Jensen in a baseball cap was definitely one of her weaknesses; it was how they met after all.

Soon enough the game was over and Jensen stood, helping Nicole to her feet. Clif would be waiting for them downstairs in a few minutes so they made their way to the lobby. The drive to the Minneapolis Convention Center was short and they were quickly led through the back entrance and to the green room.

Cheers from everyone greeted Nicole and Jensen as they made their way into the room. It looked like everyone was there: Kim, Briana, Rich, Rob and the band. Gil and Mark stood off to one side talking with Sam, while Jared and Misha were seated at one of the tables.

Jensen pulled Nicole tight into his side and cleared his throat. “Hey y’all, listen up! Me and the little lady got something to say!” Nicole loved it when Jensen actually let out his native drawl; it did things to her.

“OH MY GOD YOU’RE PREGNANT!” Briana interrupted before Jensen could say anything else.  She was the first to rush over and wrap Nicole in a hug first before playfully punching Jensen in the arm.

“Briana, how could you possibly have known?” Jensen argued.

“Because I am a fucking genius and your wife looks even more beautiful than normal and her skin is glowing!”  Briana bragged.

Congratulations were received all around from everyone in the room and it was the first thing newcomers were told when they arrived. Nicole thought she would feel overwhelmed, but instead she felt excited and loved, surrounded by friends and family.

She spent most of the evening backstage with Jensen, Jared and Misha, until Rob summoned her husband and Jared out on stage. Nicole slinked back with Briana and Kim to watch Jensen perform from the side of the stage.

“Hello Minneapolis! How y’all doing tonight?” Jensen’s voice filled the entire auditorium. His question was met with a decibel that couldn’t be measured as the fans were ecstatic.

“So my brother Jared and I have been working on a little something for y’all. As you may have seen the footage from Australia, Jared played a little on stage. I convinced him to strap on my guitar tonight and play something. As many of you know, I met my beautiful, amazing wife, Nicole, in this very building three years ago and twelve days ago, but who’s counting?” Jensen laughed along with the crowd.

“So I wanted to do something special for her tonight to tell her how much I love her and to thank her for taking a chance on me and so much more. You guys might know this one. Maestro? Music please.” Jensen nodded and Jared began playing.

When your legs don’t work like they used to before

And I can’t sweep you off of your feet

Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love

Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks

And darling I will be loving you ‘til we’re 70

And baby my heart could still fall as hard at 23

And I’m thinking ‘bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways

Maybe just the touch of a hand

Oh me I fall in love with you every single day

And I just wanna tell you I am

So honey now

Take me into your loving arms

Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars

Place your head on my beating heart

I’m thinking out loud

Maybe we found love right where we are

The crowd was going wild and singing along as Jared continued playing and Jensen moved across the stage, just yards away from where Nicole was standing. He reached out his hand and her body was drawn to him like a magnet. They joined hands and Jensen led Nicole back onstage with him. Rich had brought out a stool and Jensen helped her onto it before he picked the lyrics back up.

When my hair’s all but gone and my memory fades

And the crowds don’t remember my name

When my hands don’t play the strings the same way, mm

I know you will still love me the same

'Cause honey your soul can never grow old, it’s evergreen

Baby your smile’s forever in my mind and memory

I’m thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways

Maybe it’s all part of a plan

I’ll just keep on making the same mistakes

Hoping that you’ll understand

But baby now

Take me into your loving arms

Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars

Place your head on my beating heart

I’m thinking out loud

That maybe we found love right where we are, oh

So baby now

Take me into your loving arms

Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars

Oh darling, place your head on my beating heart

I’m thinking out loud

That maybe we found love right where we are

Oh maybe we found love right where we are

And we found love right where we are

Jensen finished the song, kissing his wife sweetly on the lips. The crowd gave him and Jared a standing ovation and he thanking them before pulling Nicole through the curtain with him. They both had tears in their eyes as they embraced.

~*~

Nicole and Jensen were ready for the craziness that was Sunday at a Convention with two panels for the guys, multiple photo ops and autographs. Jensen had talked with Chris and he had taken a couple of special photos for them to commemorate the day and the place they met, as well as the photo they would be using to announce their pregnancy to the world. Nicole felt better today and wore another dress similar to the one she wore to the concert.

The gold panel was almost finished and it was time for the last question.

“Hi, what’s your question?” Jared asked the fan.

“My question is for Jensen, sorry Jared.” Jared pretended to be mad, but he was having such a good time, he didn’t even care.

“Hi,” Jensen addressed her as she patiently waited.

“Hi Jensen! I was wondering when you and Nicole were going to start a family,” she asked him timidly, not wanting to get too personal.

“That is a very good question. We all know the Padalecki’s are popping out offspring left and right! Um, hey, Baby? Can you come out here please?” Jensen turned around and Nicole walked through the curtain. Jensen offered her his seat and turned back to the fan.

“You said you had a question for my wife, right?” Jensen chortled.

“Hi Nicole, I asked Jensen when you guys might start a family,” the fan repeated her question for Nicole.

“Hi, well, that is a good question. Can you guys hold on a sec? I have to go grab something.” Nicole jumped down off the stool, ran backstage and came back out with a wrapped box. She hopped back up on the stool, handed Jensen the box and took his microphone, holding it for him.

“What is this?” Jensen eyed Nicole suspiciously.

“Just open it. While you do, I am going to tell them a secret,” Nicole addressed the crowd.

“Now, I know how close we are as a family, right guys? And I know y’all can keep a secret. So what I am going to tell you cannot leave this room, alright?” Nicole hopped back down and walked along the front of the stage.

“We are getting ready to announce something big, but family deserves to know first, so I want to tell you guys, but are you going to tell anyone?” Nicole may have been small, but she commanded a presence on that stage and the crowd all shook their heads no in unison.

“That is reassuring! So guys…we’re having a baby!” Nicole exclaimed and the crowd went bezerk. Nicole held up a hand and they quieted down.

“Chris, are you ready? I have one more surprise…Jay? Did you open the box?” Nicole turned and looked at her husband who stood there with a mix of shock and fear on his face.

“Yeah, he opened it. Jay show our family what is in the box, please,” Nicole prompted Jensen as he held up the box with both hands.

In the box was a set of onesies…

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