#we need to figure out either a) another way out of the school unseen or b) find more secret passageways

[in-tua-deep]

man i have really been thinking about worldbuilding and exposition in books recently

when i was like, i don’t know, twelve-ish, I picked up this book about a teenage girl in a spy school. and i absolutely fell in love with it - I thought it was incredibly neat how the book just seemed to drop me into the middle of the story, even starting in the girl’s second year. in fact, the main character frequently referenced events from her first year (falling in love with a civilian, things ending badly, finding secret passageways, losing her mother’s trust etc.) 

and I actually really enjoyed the fact that the character had a rich and vibrant life outside of what i had read and that the book didn’t go out of its way to explain her past in flashbacks or anything. i understood the main takeaways and why she was reacting to things based on what i gleaned, and more than that i understood the growth of the character, why she was cautious in certain places but reckless in others, etc and i felt smarter for not being handed the answer on a silver platter

anyway it wasn’t until i finished the book and realized there was a sequel that i looked it up and found out that. in fact. i had started with the second book in the series.

oops.

[flowerxguts]

What Are We Gonna Do Now? - Indigo De Souza

I know you're worn, you're exhausted / This is love / This is lost on you / I'm holding my night in your hands

———————＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ OC FIC ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊———————

Four days. It had been four days since Damien had so much as shown his face.

Dion had walked by the room at least two dozen times by now, only able to catch a glimpse of a lumped blanket or his friends mysteriously bruised back.

His life went on as usual, only now with two detours.

Everyday he made breakfast, placing a plate on the floor beside the pile of blankets without any reprimands, only a pitying look that would go unseen. He went to work, helped his sister with homework, went through all the general motions of the day. Then, after dinner he’d re-enter the now pitch black room, a plate of food in hand, and place it next to the lump that had sometimes moved, sometimes hadn’t.

He didn’t say much, finding no purpose in his words falling onto deaf ears, unlike his little sister, who he knew would talk Damien’s ear off after school before Dion came home despite their friends lack of response. He’d pat the lump of blankets that held his friend occasionally, mumbling a good morning or good night.

He always knew Damien moved at some point, as the two dishes left in his room would miraculously reappear in the cabinets every morning, cleaned. Perhaps that was his way of saying thank you without having to face anyone.

Still, he was catatonic most of the day, avoiding the world.

But today when Dion passed his friends opened door, there he was. Damien in the flesh. He laid sprawled out on his mattress, a thin sheet bundled across his shoulders being the only blanket obscuring any sort of view.

He was staring up at the ceiling, a lit cigarette dangling between his fingers that fell over the side of the mattress.

Dion walked up to the door leaning on the old, rotting frame. He crosses his arms, eyes trained on his friends ghostly figure.

Damien showed no signs of acknowledging him, merely bringing the cigarette to his lips. Either he hadn’t seen Dion, or he was ignoring the intrusion, hoping it would simply disappear if he ignored it for long enough.

Dion purses his lips, exhausted with the avoidance game Damien seems to be playing with everyone since Morgan made her departure.

“You just gonna lay there depressed?”

Silence drones on as Damien lets out a deep breath, smoke wafting into the air. The arm that held the cigarette to his lips flopped down again, bouncing slightly as it hit the mattress.

“Guess so.”

Dion lets out a heavy sigh as his makes his way to the edge of the mattress, plopping himself down beside his friends left side.

“You need to get up sometime, man.”

Damien doesn’t move an inch. He continues staring up at the ceiling with a glassy, lost look in his eyes.

Silence falls once more, weighing down the room. Dion lightly taps his fist on Damien’s core, unsure of what to do with him.

He’s come to accept that there’s nothing he can say, nothing he can do. Morgan is gone. His friend just has to feel this and endure.

Morgan made her choice. To leave.

And Dion made his choice. To stay.

He sighs again, exasperated, accepting that Damien would not get up if he simply asked him. Still, he didn’t want to let him rot in the room a day longer, so he met him halfway.

Dion doesn’t leave, moving to lay on his friend's outstretched arm without another word.

Damien instinctively slings his arm over Dion’s shoulders. It’s progress.

The two boys mirror each other, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Damien reaches the cigarette out to Dion, who accepts it, taking a drag.

Words are failing both of them in this moment. There’s nothing to be said, really. What can either of them say? That they’re sorry? But for what? For who?

“How are you holding up?”

The question is stupid in and of itself, but Dion couldn’t come up with anything better. Four days, and his friend has done nothing but lay on this mattress, sleeping, crying, watching the snow fall outside, praying.

“I don’t know, Dee. I just…” Damien waves the hand that had been resting on Dion’s shoulder helplessly, taking the cigarette back with his free hand “I feel empty.”

Damien bends his knees, aligning them to Dion’s. He takes a long drag of the cigarette, blowing the smoke out of his nose, watching it dance away into the freezing air of January, before lulling his head towards the boy beside him.

There is an undefined emotion in his eyes, something akin to acceptance, but resting on the fine line between resentment, jealousy.

“Did you know she was gonna leave me?”

His friend's voice, though quiet, was relatively steady. He was sure Damien already knew the answer, but asked anyway, needing confirmation.

The question is unavoidable, so Dion shakes his head, looking down for only a split second before meeting rusted-brown eyes.

“Yeah. I did. I gave her hell for it, but…”

There’s an unnatural pause causing the air between the two to shift. The room is too cold, too small. It’s suffocating. Dion looks back up to the ceiling, trying to escape the weight of the air, a serious look dawning his features.

“You need to get it together, man.”

It’s the truth. Everything he is saying. He fought with Morgan relentlessly the night she told him, barely even able to look at her for the next few days leading up to her departure. Neither of them had been kind in the argument.

Dion had met her on her way to the tracks, uneasy to let her leave on bad terms. He had experienced it once, with Eleanor, and wasn’t eager to experience months of sleepless, guilt-filled nights again.

‘You need to know that I’m not mad at you.’

They made their peace. In the end, both understood the other as much as they could.

In many respects Morgan and Dion understand each other better than everyone, having both grown up with an addict for a parent.

When they found their approach to Damien contrasted, it was frustrating beyond reason.

They fought, yelled, threw snide remarks they knew should’ve been beneath them. Storming out on one another before agreeing because both were stubborn, having already made up their minds.

But standing with her, his arm slung around her shoulders, her head resting on his chest, waiting for the train that would take her away for possible years, it was hard to say if one of them was right and the other was wrong. In the snow, watching each others breaths manifest in the cold, they realized they were in some grey area that rested in between, together.

‘I’m sorry. I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

All that matters now is that they had at least agreed on one thing: Damien had to get sober.

“Yeah, that’s what everyone seems to be saying.” Damien states, his tone light, but devoid of humor.

“Oh everyone?“ Dion retorts sarcastically, somewhat rolling his eyes. “What? Me and Morgan?”

He questions whether or not it was the right call to say her name for a second, knowing she wasn’t in the picture anymore as everyone, but in the end, she’s the only thing on Damien’s mind right now. Everything about her, from the moment Damien met her, stuck on a loop.

Her name had rolled off his tongue, familiar, because Morgan is not a stranger. Not yet. Not ever.

“Morgan, you… Eleanor.”

Damien’s reply comes easily, Morgan’s name still said with unarmored love. Relief is instantaneous.

Dion makes a clicking noise “That’s not everyone. What about Tiger Lily?”

Damien laughs for a second, tipping his knees to knock into Dion’s “I don’t make leisurely visits.”

They both smile, but the action swirls in sadness. Damien’s legs fall limp once more against the mattress. They continue to pass the cigarette back and forth wordlessly.

It’s awhile before either speaks again. Damien being too preoccupied to pay much notice to the silence. His breathing is slow and his eyes are still staring holes into the ceiling, even after four days of doing nothing else.

Dion observes him closely, taking in his very being. He knows there are bound to be a million and two thoughts in his friends head. This is the longest he’s been sober in three months, and thinking like this was what he was running from, wasn’t it?

Damien turns to him, Dion’s staring finally catching his attention.

“Tell me what’s going to happen, Dee.”

His voice is so soft, barely more than a whisper, but level. Dion opens his mouth to speak, but closes it when no words come out. The look in his friends eyes is leaving him speechless. Because Damien does not look afraid, no, he looks unto him with nothing but genuine concern.

It reminds him of the way Morgan had looked at him, the trains rumble in the near distance. Trembling hands dusting the stray snow off his jacket as a final action of love, ‘I won’t blame you, if you can’t handle it. Leave if you need to. But, as long as you stay, take care of him for me?’

It’s sickening.

He should be afraid for himself, but he’s not. He’s only afraid for his friend because he knows. And Dion gets déjà vu. He knows what Damien is truly saying. He’s asking if he can handle this too. He’s begging him ‘tell me to leave’, because sobriety has given him perspective.

He knows about Dion’s mother, about Morgans father. And if Morgan had left him, why should Dion stay?

There’s a pit in the older boys stomach. He thought he had come to understand why Morgan left, or at the very least accept it, but for a moment, he’s mad again.

‘How can you just up and leave him like this?’

“It’s okay if-“

Dion speaks suddenly, sick of being told to leave. He’s overcome with the urge to fix what his friend is saying, give him his perspective, make him forget Morgan’s.

The picture of Morgan leaving, smiling at him, tears glimmering in the corner of her eyes, is forgotten. Their argument is once again in the forefront of his mind again.

“Damien, you know you can stay here. I love you like a brother. Fuck, when Morgan first told me I was pissed. I told her that she didn’t really love you if she was leaving.”

‘Stop lying to make yourself feel better! You don’t fucking love him! And clearly, you never did! You’re just gonna turn your damn back and run, again, because you still don’t know what the fuck love is. How about some sense of fucking loyalty?’

Dion’s breathing has become labored, every hurtful word said in the heat of the argument drowning out reason. He thinks for a careful moment this time, about his next words, about Morgan.

‘I know the first time he hits me I will forgive him because I love him more than I love myself.’

He closes his eyes, swallowing thickly. All the anger that had resurfaced dissipating within seconds. The statement, and I’m right, dissolves on his tongue.

The way Morgan had declared those words, in raw honestly, so afraid, ring in his head like an alarm. There was a wild look in her eyes, like a match had been lit to her life yet again.

He knows about everything Morgan went through, before. How she had ended up on his door step that cool August night. And she knows everything about him. They hadn’t forgotten that, hell, they had used it against each other.

But now, Morgan’s not in front of him. She’s not even in the same state lines by now. The room is quiet. He images her in his mind, younger, the same look in her eyes.

When he began speaking he wanted to say that Morgan is wrong, assure his friend that her actions shouldn’t reflect on him. That he’s lovable. He’s not beyond saving. Forget her.

But Damien can’t forget her.

Dion can’t either.

He loves her, more than he’ll ever care to admit. And somewhere in his heart, in late night conversations on the couch after the other found them awake, he knows she had to leave.

He wishes he could leave too.

He’s been unfair, because despite leaving Morgan does love Damien. She knows he’s not beyond saving. He’s heard her say it, scream it, a look of pure desperation in her eyes.

A feeling inside himself settles. The picture of Morgan solidifies in his mind. Her, holding back Damien’s hair as he pukes, shoving her fingers down his throat, begging. Her, dragging Damien through the house in the dead of night, eye’s exhausted.

‘I need to stop pretending one day he’ll just wake up and see I’m worth changing for. He needs to feel this.’

She was always there. To a fault, she was there.

She had done her time, paid her dues.

Dion finds closure in the phantom feeling of Morgan’s chapped lips pressed against his cheek. The warmth of a whispered ‘thank you’ ghosting the skin once kissed goodbye and you’re on your own all at once.

Maybe, he thinks, maybe giving her actions more explanation will give Damien closure too. Maybe he will get up.

“But Damien she does. She’s trying to give you the push you need to turn your life around.”

He lets the words sink in. He means it.

“We both love you... we don’t want you stuck like this.”

Dion turns his body inward and Damien does the same, arm still around his shoulders.

“…And I think the best way to help you is for her to go and for me to stay.”

Something in his friends eyes shift. He looks helpless, like his world has just collapsed in on itself yet again.

‘He can’t get better with me here. Dragging his ass home every night because I can’t stand sleeping in bed alone without him.’

“You know… Morgan could never stop herself from helping you. I’d tell her to leave you be, let you come to your senses, but she can’t stand seeing you like that, Dam. She wasn’t trying to enable you, but she was.”

Dion’s jaw clenches and unclenches. He closes his eyes, taking in his own words. It’s hard to accept that somehow Morgan leaving is something crucial to Damien’s recovery. Because for forever, all they’ve ever needed was each other.

Still, he knows Morgan is right. So he meets Damien’s eyes, trying his best to not give into the voice in his head begging him to stop talking. To not make this worse, because what if knowing all this doesn’t end in closure? just hurts him more? Makes him relapse?

“If you’re gonna get better she can’t be here.” Dion declares, voice low, the deliberate eye contact between the two bordering the line of uncomfortable.

Damien’s eyebrows furrow and he looks away almost instantly, not allowing Dion to decipher what he is thinking. Though, his friend does not miss the fresh tears that form in his eyes. He takes a final inhale of smoke, facing entirely away from Dion as he stubs out the cigarette.

He rubs a hand over his eyes, turning back over, mumbling words incoherently in a language he knew Dion couldn’t understand. Silent tears painted his eyes with a misty hue, making him look worn down well behind his years. His tears sparkled in the afternoon sun that spilt through the open window, cascading over the unmade mattress haphazardly dumped in the middle of the messy room.

Dion thinks, for a moment, that maybe this is normal to an extent. Two teenage boys, one a wreck, the other not too far off, laying in one of their messy bedrooms. A boy comforting his best friend after a break up with a girl he was never officially with. It’s foreign. In a way, comforting, but he remembers the circumstances, and suddenly the reality of it all seems to come crashing in once again. Morgan did not leave because she’s just a girl, not because of something slightly insensitive Damien said, but because their friend was an addict. She was afraid of him, and who he was becoming.

Truth be told, he was too.

So no. Dion does not get the leisure of being a teenage boy, simply comforting his friend. He had chosen to stay, and in that, had chosen to take responsibility for this, even if it terrified him.

He feels like he’s drowning in Damien’s world, in this room, in his bed. Morgan had told him that she was afraid that in staying, in continuing to love him, she’d loose herself entirely. She said she had met herself, for a brief moment, and she wanted to see that girl again.

Dion squeezes his eyes shut, colors swirling behind the lids.

He is five again. A year before his world would be turned on its side and he would suddenly become a father, a mother, a brother, and a sister the second a pink bundle is dropped into his arms on an old rotting couch with needles stuffed between its cushions. He is laying in bed with his mother, who’s out of it almost entirely. He’s squeezing his eyes shut and finding patterns of stars in the colors and wonders if his mom, who has had her eyes closed for hours now, can see the same patterns. He wonders if so, why she’s entranced by them. Because she has not gotten up in a day, even though he has begged, screamed, and cried. She did not even get out of bed when it was time for Dion to go to school this morning. So he didn’t go, simply kept laying by her side, patiently waiting for her to greet him a late good night and a good morning simultaneously. He didn’t want his mom to wake up worried, wondering where he was.

He knew the feeling, and it wasn’t pleasant.

He mindlessly reaches a hand out to Damien, placing it on the side of his neck, an action familiar, yet once believed to be long forgotten. He feels the strong thrum of his best friends heartbeat. He holds it in his palm, matching his breathing to the pulse. This is the strongest he’s felt his heartbeat has been in months.

When he was five he reached out all the same to his mother, small hands wandering, pressing, waiting to feel a heartbeat. For some kind of sign that he was not alone right now. That he was not beside his mothers corpse. He would panic when he couldn’t find one, sitting up on his knees, pressing into his mothers neck wildly with both hands, eyes blurred by tears, until relief would finally come in the form of a heartbeat. A heartbeat so low it could go undetected by doctors, but not from a son so desperate.

Dion’s thumb rests on the base of Damien’s ear and his fingers tethering firmly into the root of long brunette strands. He tries to ground himself, but the shapes and colors form into the figure of his mother and he’s five. He is just barely three feet tall and last year he lost his first tooth at his grandparents house in the summer. Then he is eight, his two year old sister in his arms as he tries to beat down the bathroom door. He’s terrified, he begs, he yells, and then he is in the bathroom. He calls an ambulance. He stays with his grandparents until he is nine and his mother is deemed fit again. When his mother hugs him he tells him that his little sister lost her first tooth the same way he had, and then asks, quieter now, why she left him again. She says nothing. But there is a steady heartbeat.

The colors and shapes transform rapidly into a million different images of his mother. Her smile, her shaking hands, his eyes rolled back to her skull.

She is what passes as “sober” for DCFS intermittently for the next six years. Though, she is never there, not truly. She is always preoccupied with a substance or some new boyfriend she swears she loves.

Then Dion is barely fifteen, his eight year old sisters hand in his. His back faces a house, not a home. His little sisters eyes are trained back on the house, but Dion’s eyes are on her.

He kept count of how many times his mother had promised to stay clean. Two hundred seventy four broken promises. He takes two hundred seventy four steps away from the house. And then he looks back. He takes one more.

He’s accepted that his mother is beyond saving and that ever glimmer of hope he had felt when he was younger was for naught.

Once when he was twelve, visiting his dad, he had pressed the phone so hard into his ear it had left a mark. He told his dad that mom was sober again, but he was scared. His dad lifted his hand to the glass, the act gentle, loving. Dion copied the action. He looked into his fathers eyes and trusted him.

His dad had smiled, the scatted gash on his check scrunching up to his eye.

‘Some people are just not strong enough, baby. Addicts don’t always get better.’

And two days later, when he found his mom leaned over the kitchen table when he came home from school, he wasn’t disappointed.

The surge of memories is nauseating, and all he can hear is his fathers voice in his head. Addicts don’t always get better. Dion swallows thickly. It takes a minute for his eyes to adjust after he opens them. The light in the seemed blinding for a moment.

There’s a thrum steady under his fingers, a heartbeat, that pulls him to his senses. When his eyes focus on Damien something in him breaks. His friends mouth is pressed against his arm and his eyes are half obscured by the pillow beneath them. His shoulders shake slightly, but every noise he’s making is suppressed.

He wonders why he didn’t leave. Why Morgan ran before he did. They had both grown up in the homes of addicts, but surely this was closer to Dion’s territory than her own. Morgan had said it herself, asked the question Dion still couldn’t answer. He should hate Damien for this, for bringing him back to a reality he had done everything to escape from. But he doesn’t. Looking at Damien now, he tries to understand his fathers words. He hears them, clear as day, but for some reason, he no longer believes they’re true.

When Damien’s eyes meet his, he understands.

Damien will get better.

Because he can feel his heartbeat now. He will get better because the look in his eyes is no longer far away, it is present, and he is in pain, but he is withstanding.

He is feeling everything Dion’s mother never had. He knows remorse and he knows guilt.

He is not a lost cause.

Dion readjusts his hand, petting down his friends hair, before the words spill out without permission.

“And that doesn’t mean I won’t be here for you, I’ll listen to you, help you find a job, fuck, whatever you need.” He means it. To a fault, he means it. “But I’m not going to drag your ass two blocks to bed if I find you wasted in an alley at three in the morning.” He concludes, tone stern, but not mean.

He hears Morgan in his subconscious, ‘I’m not going to become my mother. And I hope you don’t become your mothers son again.’

The room is silent for a long time. Damien continues staring at Dion, though it seems he is lost in his head, more than he is truly looking at Dion.

When Damien finally speaks, his voice is small, rough, “…I’m sorry. I never realized it was getting this bad.”

“I know, Damien.” Dion wraps his arm around him, encasing him in a hug. “I know.”

His friend lets out a few shakey sobs, holding onto him like a lifeline. Dion decides to lay with him for as long as he can, sneaking looks at his watch every so often. His shift starts at three, but he has to include the forty minute walk to the the hotel.

He didn’t mind it. Laying here like this. His friend was warm, not the boiling hot he had come accustomed to when grabbing his face, begging him to tell him how much he had taken, but a cozy warm he remembered from three winters ago when he and Damien would fall asleep in his bed after they’d stayed up talking all night about nothing. They’d wake up inches apart, just like they had fallen asleep, soaking in each other warmth, feigning off the cold under a shared comforter stolen from a dumpster behind a old home decor store that was going out of business a few years back. In a few minutes they’d both get up and curse the cold, play wrestling when Damien decides it’s a great idea to put his freezing hands on the back of his best friends neck. They’ll walk Eleanor to the middle school, together, then Damien will walk him to work before disappearing until the night, where he’d come home. Dion closed his eyes, pretending for a moment that he was three years younger, that nothing had changed.

He wanted to sink into the hug, let it surround him entirely. If he could only drown out the present for a moment and be young again, more wide-eyed and optimistic, leaving the unknown future a mystery for an older version of himself to face.

As he squeezed he felt for the first time how small Damien’s frame had become. He swallows thickly, feeling the sudden urge to sob along with his best friend.

He used to be lean, all muscle from his time working in demolition. He used to exercise before he started using. He’d make stupid bets with Eleanor over dinner about how many push-ups he could do and would go on these hour long runs in the early mornings of autumn. Dion used to shake his head when he’d reappear to mooch some breakfast off him, asking him ‘how the hell was that any fun?’ as the brunette strode in, stealing a bite off his plate, wrapping around the table to greet Eleanor. He misses the stupid smile Damien would stop and give him. There was nothing he loved more than running, the cold air that filled his lungs gave him a rush nothing else could at the time. At some indistinguishable point he had replaced his runners high for the high that came from the injection of a needle. His body was always heavy after he started using, he was a dead weight, in an out of consciousness half the time, sometimes he got nauseous just standing up. He only ate when he was force fed.

All this resulted in Dion being able to feel his best friends ribs digging into his chest as he heaved in and out, exhausted from such little action.

Damien was shaking and his skin was flushed, but not in a recently familiar way, in a way Dion remembered from years ago when Damien was in his doorframe, speaking in a frenzy, half the words he spoke in Spanish and the other half in slurred English.

He squeezed his friend tighter, remembering the mess of that night. A grateful feeling washed over him. Damien was here with him. He wasn’t dead and he wasn’t gone, he was simply lost for awhile, but he’s wandering his way back. He digs his nose into his friends neck, his next sentence coming out more muffled than intended.

“You want something to do today?” Dion asks rather slowly, “Something small to get you out of the house?”

“Yeah. That’d probably be good.” He can feel Damien nod against his shoulder, pulling back to meet his eyes.

Dion smiles, taking in his friends face. For once, his eyes are clear. He’s present, He’s here. The boy reaches a hand up to his companions cheek, patting it lightly.

There’s something in the air between them. Something that makes both the corner of their eyes soften. Something akin to hope.

“Go pick up Eleanor from school? It’s been awhile and you can surprise her.”

He pushes himself up, the cold air assaulting him while doing so. Damien follows in suit.

“What time is it?”

“Like twooooooo..” Dion checks his watch as if he hadn’t sneakily checked it four times within the last half hour, “twenty. She gets out at forty five”

“Jesus.” Damien has scooted over to the front edge of the bed, feet touching the freezing concrete ground. He’s hunched over, face is buried in his hands.

Dion snorts, smirking.

He gets up with a groan, stretching. He pats Damien’s knee twice whilst padding his way over to the door. But just before he can leave room, Damien’s voice stops him.

“Dion… thank you.”

The words are so honest, raw. They stop the boy in his tracks. He falters, back still facing Damien. Dion’s eyebrows knit together and the feeling of horror causes a sinking feeling in his gut. He is responsible. Everything sinks in.

Regardless of the sudden terror, he acts quickly, turning back to his friend with a shit-eating grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, we don’t have two hours for you to waste time thanking me for everything I’ve ever done for your ass.” He teases, rolling his eyes and waving it off. He doesn’t think he can really accept a thank you right now. A thank you is a liability. Once Damien is a year sober he can accept it.

As he leaves the room, shutting the door, attempting to ride the high that Damien is moving, and bury his fears, he hears Damien’s muffled voice. It’s lined with amusement but also a tinge of annoyance.

“Pinche pendejo.”

That one he knew.

[parvulous-writings]

Not so Wyld morning // Bill S Preston + Ted Logan x M!Reader

Request:     can you write a fluff oneshot with bill (s preston) x ted logan x m! reader with like. a sleepy morning between the three?

Requested by: @mlmpunisher​

Summary: Starts off as the request, and then goes off on a trip to the Circle K. I may or may not have gotten carried away. 

Warnings: a brief joke about kidnapping/death.

Words: 3.5K

Notes:  I’ve been waiting for an idea/request for these two. They’re my comfort idiots. My love for them... Let’s just say I watch the movies a fair amount, eh? My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!

Not my gif 

You, Bill and Ted were spread rather haphazardly over Bill’s bed. Legs crossed over one another, hands on chests or in faces. You were all tangled together, not that any of you really cared about that at that moment.  You had all fallen asleep during a study session- you had been desperately trying to tutor your boyfriends Bill and Ted, so that they didn’t fail their history class and completely flunk out of school- mostly because Ted’s father, Captain Logan, was threatening to send the taller boy away to an Alaskan military school to whip him into shape should he fail the semester. That was now an all too real threat to the three of you, none of you wanted to get pulled apart from one another. You had been trying to quiz them on the philosophies of the great Athenian thinker Socrates (whom both young men insisted on pronouncing So-Crates no matter how many times you corrected them) when you passed out one by one. First Ted- who was up against the headboard, and whose head had slumped forward when you had gotten onto the fifth or sixth question. Then Bill, draped over Ted’s legs, after leaning back to protest about how the quiz was starting to become “A total drag,” around the tenth question. He had promptly passed out whilst you were telling him it was for their own good- you weren’t all that surprised when you were interrupted by a rather loud snore coming from the curly-haired Bill.You hadn’t bothered to try and wake either of them- not only would they both be rather irritable if you woke them up too early, but it was nearly one o’clock in the morning at that point, so you figured that perhaps they were both subconsciously onto something.  You had taken the range and array of textbooks off of the bed, creating a little more space for you to somehow work yourself between them and get more comfortable to get some sleep of your own. After some shuffling, and a few murmurs from both Bill and Ted, you had found the perfect position, where you had promptly fallen asleep with them.

You were the first to wake up. Ted had taken your arm in both of his in your sleep, cuddling it as if it were a teddy bear. Bill’s legs had somehow tangled with yours, and he had ended up nuzzled into the side of your chest, not that you minded all that much. Though Ted was the more affectionate of your boyfriends in public, Bill could be just as affectionate as him in private. You tried not to move at first, not wanting to disturb them- they could both be as bad as each other when it came to being woken up too early (too early was counted as anything before they woke up by themselves). So, for what you had gauged to be about twenty minutes or so, you just laid there, staring up at the ceiling. There were no thoughts of any importance that drifted through your mind at this point, not until you had finally grown restless enough to carefully push yourself up onto one elbow to check the time on Bill’s alarm clock- which he rarely actually used as anything more than just a normal clock. It had just gone half past ten, and you felt your eyes go wide- that was much later than you had anticipated. Thankfully it was a weekend, though briefly your brain had tricked itself into thinking it was mid-week, causing even more of a jolt in your chest. You would have to get up soon to make your way back home; it was bad enough that you had spent the night out without letting your parents know that you’d be out past eleven o’clock. Every moment past nine in the morning that you spent away from them, the angrier they would get with you.  With this thought in mind you tried to push yourself up a little bit more, fully prepared to undertake the rather massive task of trying to begrudgingly untangle yourself from the two men you held dear, but you were quickly brought back down again by an unseen hand. Your head landed on Ted’s stomach, and you glanced over to him, seeing him peering back at you through tired eyes and a rather messy head of hair. He gave you a rather dopey smile, and you realised he was the one to pull you back; mostly prompted by the fact that Bill was giving another round of freight-train like snores. Ted’s head fell back again when you didn’t struggle against his protests of getting out of bed, and he gave a yawn before beginning to speak. “Morning, chief.” He mumbled, voice still raspy with the last dregs of sleep his body was trying to cling onto.  “I don’t get why you call me that.” You replied in a whisper, trying not to wake Bill. “Surely I should be the one calling you that- given your dad’s job and everything...”  “Eh,” Was Ted’s simple reply, accompanied with a rather lazy shrug. It was about a minute before the only other boy awake in the room started to speak again. “I mean, it does kind of suit you, doesn’t it? You keep me and Bill in order...” He prompted, glancing over to you with that same goofy smile, before his gaze moved back to the ceiling.  “For the most part, I guess.” You smiled back at him, taking his hand and draping his arm across you, so you could play absently with his fingers. Ted never minded that. 

The pair of you fell into a comfortable silence, which was disturbed only briefly, and rather inconsistently, by Bill’s snores. You weren’t sure how long you laid there for this time, but the rather delightful monotonous repetition was ultimately interrupted by a quiet groan of protest from the blonde haired boy at the end of the bed. He rolled onto his front, trying to cover his eyes- he had fallen asleep rather inconveniently where the light peaked through the blinds in the early morning. “Someone close the blinds,” He complained, trying to turn away from them but ultimately failing.  “Bill...” You chuckled lightly, nudging him to get his attention. “They are closed. The light is coming through the gap.” Your words were only met with a groan from Bill, and a stifled laugh from Ted.  “You should get it fixed, dude.” The taller boy jested, nudging the boy again, and Bill responded with a half-hearted swipe at Ted’s foot.  “Shut up, Ted.” Of course, he didn’t mean this in an inherently horrid way, despite his gruff tone. He loved both you and Ted deeply, more than he could love anything else- or at least that was what he thought. Ted thought very much the same thing- though that was no surprise. More often than not, it was like the two shared the exact same brain. If they were not thinking of the exact same plan down to the detail when it came to schemes, they were at the very least agreed on the end result. Most of the time this wasn’t too much of a problem for you- usually you were at the butt end of whatever shenanigan they were plotting- but there were times when you did get a little bit overwhelmed by the pair of them. More often than not, the times where you got overwhelmed involved a very particular phone-booth, with some rather unique properties. Unless you were in it’s presence you tried not to think about it- the amount of times you had been put through mind-bending situations already made your head spin to even consider again. They’d predict something, it would happen immediately after said prediction, then they would turn to one another and proclaim a quick “Excellent!” before reminding one another that they would need to remember that later. You were still a little bit confused by it- especially when they sprung something random on you-but you thought you were slowly starting to understand, even though the concept of time travel didn’t seem quite real. 

You broke your train of thought upon feeling a sudden weight on your chest. Though you wanted to crane your neck to see who it was, you didn’t really need to, you knew it was Bill. You did it anyway- your eyes being met with the golden curls of Bill’s hair. “Bill, love, I’m going to have to get up soon.” You warned him, as your movement would definitely affect him more than Ted.  “No.” He replied simply. From his tone, you could tell he didn’t overly want to debate it.  “But I stayed over without letting my parents-”  “You’re fine, you’re safe, what do they have to complain about?” He grumbled, shuffling so that his chin was on your stomach, his arms wrapped around your middle. His deep green eyes met yours, before flitting briefly to Ted, giving you both a smile. “C’mon, dude. It won’t hurt to have a little longer with us, right?” He asked, and you moved your hand to quickly brush a stray curl from his brow.  “Maybe he should go soon- like, just to check in.” Ted piped up, ever in your corner. “Cause you know what happens if he gets in trouble. He won’t get to see us for like... A week. That is most heinous, and you know it.” At this rather right line of reasoning, Bill groaned, burying his face into the fabric of your shirt.  “Shut up, Ted.” This was quite muffled, and of course still not completely serious. You laughed softly, “Okay- what about this? One hour. Like this.Then, we can ask Missy to drive us back to my place, and I can let my parents know I’m fine, and you two haven’t like... Murdered me, or something.” You joked, and you can feel Ted nod enthusiastically underneath you.  “Yeah, that’s a good idea!” He agreed, and you could hear the smile that was in no doubt plastered onto his face. “Then we can all head down to the Circle K afterwards, right?”  “Sure we can, Ted.” You agreed, reaching up behind you to clumsily pat his cheek.  “Only if he isn’t in trouble, remember?” Bill pitched in, shuffling to get comfortable again. “What about half an hour? If we want to head to Circle K, obviously.” You all consider this new plan for a moment, before each of you gave a curt nod, in unison. 

So there you all stayed- you nearly even fell asleep again before you felt Bill roll off of you. He then took your arm and helped you up, and Ted quickly rolled off of the bed to grab his sneakers. Bill chucked yours at you, before going to get his shoes as well. Ted was the first downstairs- “Hey, Missy?” He called out, and he was quickly met with the young woman’s reply.  “Yeah? What’s up, Ted?” She asked, giving a warm smile.  “We were hoping that you could drive us to (Y/N)’s house?” He asked, briefly wringing his hands, as he eagerly awaited her response.  “Sure thing!” She nodded cheerily, “Let me just finish making these drinks, and I’ll be right with you. You guys go out to the car.” She nodded over to the door leading to the garage. As you and Bill started down the stairs, Ted eagerly gestured for you both to follow him.  It didn’t take Missy very long to finish making the drinks she was preparing, and you all piled into the car. “So- did you all sleep well?” The blonde woman asked, glancing back at you and Bill in the back of the car- Ted had a fascination with sitting in the front seat. Ted and Bill nodded individually; you were the one to verbally reply.  “Yeah, I think we all got a fairly good night sleep.” You give an almost awkward smile. Though, at one point, both of your boyfriends had had some form of crush on her- despite her being quite a few years older than all of you- you hadn’t entirely understood why. You never really mentioned it though.  “Good to hear,” She replied, still wearing that joyful smile. “Hey, Bill- you might need to use the spare key today, the one behind the plant, if you’re staying out late with the boys.” She took a turning as she spoke, keeping her eyes on the road. “Me and your dad are going out for dinner tonight.”  “Okay, Missy- I mean, mom.” Bill replied, quickly correcting himself on his mistake. “Just stop on the corner here,” He told her, gesturing to the side of the road a five minute walk from your house.  “Are you sure?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder as she spoke. “I can take you all the way, if you-”  “No, it’s alright, thanks, Missy.” You interrupt quickly, leaning forward. “Here is fine.” She shrugged, but begrudgingly pulled over. 

“Thanks, Missy!” Ted called after the now fleeting car, giving a wave as well, before jogging to catch up with you and Bill, who had already started to cross the road to get to your street. “I’ll quickly grab some money whilst we’re there,” You told the pair of them, and they nodded.  “I was thinking we could get some slushies.” Ted suggested, giving a wide smile.  “Blue and red?” Bill added, giving a smile of his own, and Ted nodded energetically.  “Our tongues’ll end up as purple, you two know that, right?” You teased with a grin, glancing over your shoulder as Bill laughed heartily. It took Ted a moment longer to get the joke, but he started laughing even harder than Bill when it clicked with him.  “Oh well,” Bill shrugged, a rather mischievous smile. You fell into silence again as you jogged up your driveway, almost wrenching open the door and calling out a hasty “Hey!” to announce your presence to the household and those within it. You quickly made your way to your room, as Bill and Ted quietly entered your home after you, choosing to stay in the hallway- even though they had visited and stayed over at your house many times before. They were both silently hoping that they were making their will to leave relatively soon clear. Your father came into the living room, glancing to the two boys standing awkwardly in the hallway. “Bill, Ted.” He greeted, calmly. Bill mouthed a silent ‘Hi’, whilst Ted just waved. Neither of them wanted to anger your parents- Ted, because he knew how authority figures could be, he’d had experience with his own father, and Bill just didn’t want you to be punished and kept away from them. You came back through as quickly as you could, palming some of your loose change in your hand, making sure you would have enough for a slushie for yourself, and for your boyfriends if they hadn’t brought any money with them- which was more than likely.  “Going out again?” Your father asked you, wanting to make some sort of conversation. You nodded, glancing to him and giving a smile.  “Yeah, heading out to Circle K with Bill and Ted.” You told him. He was a lot more relaxed with the rules than your mother- whom you currently assumed to be out for lunch with one of her friends.  “Did your study session go well, then?”  “Yeah- we went over Socrates again. We all passed out- that’s why I didn’t come home or call last night.” Your father laughed gently, he understood.  “I figured as much. Your mother was saying that you could have been kidnapped- but I kept saying you’re a smart kid, you’d know what to do if that were a risk. Plus, I don’t think there’s anyone in San Dimas who would want to kidnap you.”  “Even if they did want to steal him away, we’d take whoever it is on,” Bill stated, confidently- nudging Ted.  “Yeah, we would!” The taller boy confirmed with a nod. You giggled and shook your head at the pair. Even your father chuckled gently at them.  “Good to know my son is in safe hands.” Though your father was aware that these two weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed of San Dimas, he wasn’t about to take away some of your only company. Your mother had brought it up to him before, but he usually elected to ignore the comments. “Anyway- get going, before your mother gets back. If she sees you going off with these to again without checking in properly she’ll have a fit.” He gestured to the door, “Just be back by eleven tonight, alright?”  “We’ll have him back by then!” Ted told him, opening the door and striding out, followed closely by Bill, and then you. Your father gave a wave, before heading back into your family home. 

There were few words on the journey to the local orange ringed store, you only started to speak again when you had each purchased your chosen flavour of slushie. Bill with strawberry, Ted with blue raspberry, and you with another blue raspberry. You all took a seat on the curb, and you decided to fill the silence with one of the first thoughts that came to your head mid-sip. “So, are you two ready for the end-of-semester presentation Mr Ryan is going to assign?” You asked, and both of your boyfriends looked rather shocked. “What? He’s done it with every other year-group, and we’re not exactly different, specification wise....” You pointed out, and Ted groaned.  “I suck at presentations.” He complained, “Plus neither of us can remember anything that Mr Ryan has taught us!” He exclaimed, gesturing rather wildly with his slushie. “I mean, even with your help, dude, I don’t think we’re going to do all that well.” You were about to speak, but Bill was the one to step in first.  “We gotta try, man,” He placed an affectionate hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder, “If we don’t, it’s even more likely that you’re going to be sent off to that heinous school in Alaska.” Ted considered this, then nodded. Bill was right.  “I’ll do everything I can to help my boys remember all they can,” You told them, a fond smile on your face which they quickly returned. They loved being referred to as your boys, they couldn’t even deny it- you could see it in their eyes. Bill leant over and pressed a very brief kiss to your cheek- though not before checking the parking lot was clear, empty of onlookers- and Ted reached across Bill’s legs to grab your hand, squeezing your palm to show some affection; you were too far away for a kiss from him, and he didn’t overly want to get up whilst his slushie was still rather full. He took a sip from the plastic straw in his beverage, before clearing his throat. “So..” He began, starting to grin wider than usual. “Who wants to make purple?” He nudged Bill, who then quickly looked to you, wearing the same grin as your other boyfriend. You started to laugh- of course this had been something that neither of them had forgotten. 

Without another word exchanged between you, you leant to close the gap between you and Bill, letting lips and tongue tangle in a passionate display of affection. Ted stared on adoringly, not overly minding that Bill was the first to get your attention and affection- though now he had finished off the majority of his drink he scuttled round to your other side, carefully taking your jaw in his hand when you eventually pulled away from Bill to catch your breath. Your break didn’t last for too long, since Ted pulled you gently so your already kiss swollen lips met his equally soft ones. Bill couldn’t help the warm and love-filled smile that spread over his face, before he just had to press a kiss to your cheek, and then reach over to Ted’s cheek to make sure he wasn’t left out. You all separated after a minute or so, and you wiped your lip carefully, wearing the same wide and almost goofy smile as the other two. Your lips, and tongue, as predicted, had turned a rather strange shade of purple.  “I think we should get another snack,” Ted suggested, “Cause I’m hungry, and then we can get the colour off of our tongues,” He grinned, and Bill considered the preposition.  “I guess some food wouldn’t hurt...” He agreed, “Marshmallows?” He suggested, which was replied to with a nod from both you and Ted. “I’ll get them then,” Bill smiled at you both, searching his pocket for some spare change as he got to his feet; marshmallows were a fair bit cheaper than slushies, and he could afford them with what he had to hand. Whilst he went back into the Circle K, you shuffled closer to Ted, smiling lightly as he drew you closer with an arm around your shoulder. That morning had certainly been most excellent, as most of the time with your boyfriends always was- it was something that you always looked forward to; spending time with them, making memories that would forever make you smile. 

[datawyrms]

Irresistible

For PhicPhight! On Ao3

“Earth to clueless one, walking through walls isn’t something you should be doing right now!” Sam’s hiss made him notice the fact something had grabbed his wrist.

“Right, sorry!” He said it without thinking, eyes flicking to Tucker. His other friend looked just as concerned, great. “I don’t think I got enough sleep.”

“When do you ever, dude? You didn’t even sneak out last night.” Still, his more technically inclined friend released his wrist. “Something your parents working on keeping you up?”

“You know we’re fine if you crash in our rooms.” Sam was a little less gentle. “So do that instead of whatever sleepwalking this is.”

“No! Like, I don’t remember not being able to sleep or anything?” Not that it helped, he felt like he’d been awake all night thanks to the weird dreams. “I swear I’m not being a tough guy or whatever.” He rubbed at his forehead, privately wishing his fingers could just push away the fog of exhaustion instead of just making him more aware of how sluggish he felt.

“Maybe you should crash with one of us anyway? You don’t look good.” Tucker’s frown only made the half ghost grumble. “‘Course you never look as good as me, but lately? You’re pulling the two thirds ghost look.”

“Harhar.” He shrugged the suggestion off, even if he was pretty tempted. There wasn’t anything weird in the house that he noticed, and his parents weren’t being any more anti-ghost then usual. He probably slept in a weird position or something. “I don’t think weird underwater dreams are a Fentonworks exclusive.”

“Underwater?” Sam just looked puzzled. “From what? I can’t even remember the last time any of us went swimming.”

“How should I know?” He couldn’t even say it was like flying, because it wasn’t like one of those dreams at all. Too sluggish, none of the freedom he normally felt. “I’ll just nap in math class…”

It had been a joke, really. He didn’t actually mean to sleep in math class, but his desk was cool and his head felt so heavy that he couldn’t resist nodding off. He just wished it had helped more, the bell ringing just made him want to sink into the floor and stay there. Which would probably freak everyone out. Not a good idea. At least the stern talking to he earned for ‘being disrespectful’ went right over his head with it so hazy.

“Dude. Just skip if you’re gonna sleep all day.” Tucker was poking him in the face with a fork. Rude.

“I’m not gonna sleep all day. Relax.” The tines were annoying, but doing more than blindly pushing it away from him was beyond him for the moment.

“Spacing out all day isn’t any better.” Sam’s voice wasn’t a surprise, but the fact she wasn't telling Tucker to stop poking him in the face was.

“I’m not.”

“Tucker’s been poking you for five minutes.”

“Oh.” Really? Hadn’t felt like that. Maybe he had like a ghost cold?

“Just go hide out in the attic, you obviously need it.” The poking stopped, Tucker’s voice low as if he’d leaned closer.

“Can’t miss even more stuff guys…you know that.” Even if he really, really wanted to take that offer right now.

“Well here you’ll just get the teachers angry by snoozing through class. We’ll try and see what’s messing with you after school.”

“Nothing’s messing with me! I think.” His objection wasn’t great, but Sam didn’t seem up to argue with him about it anyway.

Tucker adjusted his hat, avoiding his eyes. “Kinda hope something is, you’re kinda freaking us out.”

Well, that didn’t feel good. He scratched at the back of his head, trying to ignore how his friends kept looking at him like some kind of wounded kitten. He was fine, really! “Well uh. See you after school?” He didn’t give them time to answer before stumbling away from the table to find somewhere quiet to vanish from. He sort of hoped being in his ghost form would have shaken some of his muddled need for sleep, but being colder just made the throbbing behind his eyes feel worse. Not enough to keep him from keeping invisible and slipping into Tucker’s attic, but enough that becoming human again actually made him feel a little less ragged.

It shouldn’t be this easy to huddle in the musty old chair and drop off in the middle of the day. The guilt for doing so alone should make him twist and struggle to get comfortable, but sleep welcomed him eagerly. A part of him worried Nocturn was afoot, but it wasn’t enough to keep him awake.

“You think his parents made something that makes ghosts go dormant or something?”

“Or drain all their energy?

He kind of wanted to ignore the voices and keep sleeping, but shook himself awake. He didn’t need this much sleep, he was fine. If they were here he’d been sleeping for hours already!

“Sleeping beauty awakes.”

Danny rolled his eyes at Tucker’s attempt to pretend they hadn’t been talking about him. “You better not have kissed me.”

“If you kept sleeping for another hour he totally would have.” Sam smirk only grew when Tucker let out an offended squawk.

“Under duress!”

“The meat stench on your breath could wake the dead, so it had to be you.”

“Not dead yet, thanks…” Even if he’d been feeling tired enough to be a corpse today. “Anyone notice?”

“Told Lancer you were sick. He bought it.” Tucker shrugged, tossing a thermos between his hands. “You were really out of it huh?”

“Wait, was there an attack?”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle.” Sam snatched the thermos away, glaring at Tucker as she did so. “You stay here, we’ll check out your house.”

He’d just slept through a ghost attacking? Really? “No way, how would you explain why I’m not with you?”

“Easy. We’ll just say you are, they won’t notice.” The goth scoffed, already halfway to getting the attic door open. “If you can hide being a ghost, we can hide you not being there for an afternoon.”

She sort of had a point there. “Fine. You aren’t gonna find anything. If it was some new gadget I’d say so.”

He kind of hoped they’d prove him wrong, but the concerned and frustrated looks on their faces betrayed that there were no new plans or even an idea to what had gotten him ‘out of sorts’. It was probably just a one off thing anyway, he’d be fine. It wasn’t like his parents were bragging about a new discovery or anything. He probably wouldn’t be able to sleep since he spent so much of the day doing so, though he was still tired...he actually looked forward to dinner being over so he could snuggle under his blankets and look at the little glowing stick on stars of his ceiling before drifting off again.

Only the dream came back. A small, pitiful ghost underwater while something kept calling at him. It wasn’t warm or inviting, more like the command from someone respected. The wisp of a creature couldn’t really ignore it either, it was like a pulse that burrowed inside and thrummed until he responded. They weren’t asking for much. Just wanted him to go hunt ghosts. He always did that anyway, that part was easy.

He didn’t like how the commanding one grabbed him under the chin at his return, but couldn’t find it in him to struggle. They were stronger than he was, he was a subordinate not strong enough to challenge them. A pair, stronger and unknowable with how they’d speak in a language he didn’t understand. He could only watch, green eyes wide for any hint of anger, wanting to make himself smaller, but the creature was little more than a shadow to begin with. Hunt, bring them the prey they wanted, and they’d allow him to exist. A fair trade, really. His core trembled at the idea the clawed hands at his face could easily sink into his chest, he couldn’t risk angering them. Their red eyes saw everything, knew everything. He didn’t want to be around them, but that call was too strong. Those eyes lurked on every surface, a burning red that cut through the weight of the water that was everything as if it wasn’t even there. Their commands became a sort of second skin, but didn’t protect him from the beings deciding to come uncomfortably close, or clutch his thin limbs and take something before letting him slip back into undefined chaos again.

He preferred being told to hunt. Leaving other ghosts, the smaller ones, lesser than even the inkblot he was in the universe to be looked over and examined while he remained mostly untouched. Still wispy, mostly undefined outside of his eyes, unlike the remains of those who ‘earned’ the greater ones full attention. No time to rest, just going and going until they claimed he’d done enough.

Being dismissed wasn’t a free pass to do as he pleased though. It was still a command, something he had to obey lest they show him why they were in charge. To go in hiding, be unseen, do nothing until they wanted him to hunt again. That should be easy, simple, but it made his tail ache and his heart lurch. He didn’t only want to hunt, he wanted to do not-ghost things.

Yet the figures didn’t care what a weaker ghost wanted to do. They’d find out. He had to hide.

Danny just felt exhausted. As if the dream had made him as tired as the ghost he was in that nightmare. Which couldn’t be true, he didn’t care about stronger ghosts and what they wanted. He’d fought the king of ghosts! He had a track record of flipping off authority when it suited him better. It didn’t push away the heavy weight in his head that only begged him to go back to sleep. Maybe he really was just sick.

Sick enough to get sent right back to bed by his mom when he slumped down for breakfast, her concern nice, but also discomforting. She held her hand at his forehead for a touch too long, seemed to stare into his eyes enough to make him want to avert them. Her gentle nudging to get some more sleep nearly had him bolting up the stairs. Like he had to go that moment. Rubbing at his temples didn’t dissuade the feeling, but the pressure lifted somewhat when he was back in bed and covered in blankets. Some stupid leftover feeling from that dream or something. He wasn’t hiding.

“Danny? You okay under there?” Jazz’s question just felt like a nail to his skull, and he hoped she could see the displeasure in his eyes as he poked out from under the blankets to glare at her.

“I might be if someone didn’t wake me up.” The sunlight peeking in from the windows only soured his mood, he should have closed the blinds.

“Well, someone’s grumpy.” Either she didn’t see his annoyance, or she was deliberately ignoring it. “Mom said you don’t have a fever, but you run pretty cold...do you want something for it?”

“It’s just a headache.”

“Sure, mister ‘I ignored a bone fracture’ is crippled by a headache. Not buying it.”

“That was meant to be a secret, who snitched?” His frustration just made him feel uncomfortably warm, they knew he hated it when Jazz fussed over that stuff. Maybe he should ignore their calls for a bit.

“No one did, I actually pay attention when you start favouring your left hand.” Her frown just made him want to duck back out of sight. “You sure you don’t need anything? Anything mom and dad wouldn’t think you need?”

For a smart person, Jazz could be incredibly unsubtle. “No. I’m just worn out, or something.” He didn’t feel like coughing or sneezing, or even the gurgling discomfort of an upset stomach. It couldn’t be that serious. “You’ll be late if you keep standing there.”

“Let us know if you think of anything!” She was already halfway down the hall while saying that, not getting to see how her brother rolled his eyes and ducked back under the blankets. Her biggest weakness, other obligations. Not that it would help after school. He’d be fine by then, probably. Just some peace and quiet and he’d be back to normal. Just like he said yesterday. Only for real this time. Positive thinking, or whatever.

He did feel a bit better now that it was quiet. Still tired, but his head wasn’t pounding as much as it was whenever someone insisted on talking to him.

He figured he’d just sleep, maybe play Doomed once he was more awake. Step one, sleeping had been going well, but Mom and Dad had other plans jeopardizing that. Since when did they listen to music while they worked? With enough base that he could feel it rattling his bones no less. Covering his ears couldn’t do much about that. Trying to ignore it, or hope they were just messing with something for a minute and it would stop wasn’t getting anywhere either. So why was he just hesitating up here? They probably didn’t even notice it was so loud, or forgot he was home sick. He shook his legs to try and wake them up after he wobbled with his first steps to the door. Maybe he could- no, there wasn’t any reason to just wait.

When had they gotten so many stairs anyway? Danny found himself gripping the railing as if he was seven again, worried about slipping as if he didn’t run down them two at a time normally. He hesitated at the bottom, eyes scanning the ground floor for a sign of the scientists. The awful noise didn’t seem much louder, but he felt every beat of it as his heart seemed to slip into sync. He didn’t want to risk more stairs, he was imagining things. He opened his mouth to speak, coughing instead over how dry it felt. Sleeping with his mouth open, duh. His second attempt went better, but was not as much of a shout as he planned it to be. “Mom? Dad? Can you turn it down?”

He waited. Nothing. It must be too loud for them to hear him over the din of that deafening pulse. Keeping one ear covered the boy edged to the lab’s staircase, staring down them as if he was looking from a mountaintop, a deadly drop. He so didn’t want to go down there, to go closer to whatever the heck it was. “Dad? Mom?” He called again, trying to ignore how his voice cracked at the question. He wasn’t scared of a staircase! His heart kept pounding in his ears, knuckles going white as he kept his hands in anxious fists. Everything told him to get back, to stay away, but couldn’t stand the noise. Besides, what if it was hurting them? Maybe that’s why they didn’t answer? Worry for them helped push back the seaping cold, heading down to the lab faster than he’d managed to get down from his room.

It was brightly lit, normal but cold. He could see them, hunched over a work desk and unharmed. The glare made his eyes hurt, pausing to rub at them. They seemed blurry, even though he wasn’t that far away. “Uh, Mom, Dad? Can you turn down whatever you’re working on? I can’t sleep.” He asked, unable to convince his legs to step a bit closer, feeling too tired to make any extra effort.

“Turn down what sweetie?” She turned to face him, making his blood try to turn to ice in his veins. She sounded right, said the right thing-but he was already trying to back up the stairs. Was she taller? “Sweetie? You look pale.”

“T-The noise.” The answer sputtered from him unbidden as he tried desperately to figure out what was wrong with-with-his mom? The echoed pounding told him no, it wasn’t, but who else could it be. “I can hear it upstairs.”

She approached with a too long stride, his own legs slipping in his blind step upwards. Pain from his elbow slamming into the edge of the staircase managed to rip through him even while everything else felt slow. She only quickened towards him as he cursed, trying to crabwalk backwards from the mother-that-was-not.

“Danny! Are you okay? Let me help you.” She grabbed him around the shoulders and he froze, a rabbit being watched by a hawk. She was too real, too solid, she could easily rip through him. “Maybe we should get you to the doctor honey, there’s isn’t anything on down here.”

Should he squirm away? She was lying about the sound, it kept pounding against him like a tide and he had no way to ride the wave clutched as he was. “There is, the thing over there-” He didn’t know what it was, but he could feel it, that it was over with the other figure, the one who hadn’t come to snag an intruder.

The hand on his forehead burned, but he couldn’t flinch away. “Sweetie, I think I’d know if your Dad was playing it.” The eyes bore into him, scanning him for any slight movement. “Jack, can you start the RV? I think we should take Danny to emergency.”

The other figure moved, massive, larger than he could imagine. It might hurt him, it might hurt his mom! “S-Stay back!” He yelled, a spark of energy finding its way to him. He couldn’t let his mom get attacked by whatever this was- no wonder she seemed strange, this thing was doing it.

“Well I gotta get up the stairs Danno! You don’t look good, you just wait there.” It was speaking as it came closer, but all it did was make the bile rise in his throat as it pretended to be his father. He squirmed free to stumble forward and block this thing from his mom, eyes burning green as he tried to shove past the exhaustion and fight.

“I said STAY BACK!”

The figure paused at his shriek and wild eyed fury, face unreadable. “Danny?” His voice was low, booming in a way that started to drain all his prior hope to fight the thing off. “Madds? I don’t think emergency can fix what he’s got.”

Claws sunk into his back, his neck aching at the speed used to look back at his mother, too long fingers tight on his shoulders and keeping hims still as he stared up and felt even smaller. “You don’t think he’s possessed?” She wasn’t talking to him, and that was a relief even as his heart tried to run off without him with how fast it wanted to go.

“Y-You did something to my mom.” The accusation made it easier to keep on his feet, but didn’t lessen her grip or stop the giant from approaching. “Take your noisemaker and get out!” If it was gone, it’d be fine, they’d be safe, he was sure of it.

“Danny, that’s your dad sweetie. Not a monster.” The voice was gentle, but he could feel how the arms shook, how she  increased the strength of her grip so he couldn’t pull away again. “You keep doing your best to fight that ghost off Danny, dad will help you.”

The larger figure grabbed the horrible silver device, the red gems adorning the horn’s buttons making him feel empty and helpless. “S-Stop it, you can’t let it use that mom!” He pleaded, but she didn’t release him, just pulled him closer to the smothering warmth. “Please, listen to me!” Of course she didn’t, controlled by that thing, twisted into thinking it was Dad, that it was quiet. Becoming intangible let him slip free, but he only managed two steps before the behemoth blew a long sustained note that made his skin vibrate and eyes swim. He crumpled to the cool floor, staring up at the monster in a silent horror. He couldn’t fight this thing- he’d been a fool to try and the red eyes promised retribution for his behaviour.

“Get out of my son right now, ghost.” It snarled, pointing directly at his crumpled form so he could not pretend to misunderstand. Yet he’d given an order he couldn’t follow. His core screeched in terror as his heart pounded, he couldn’t get out. Yet he had to, or this thing would devour him, shred him to nothing with nothing but sound. He could only try the closest he could get to ‘out’ of his own skin, shuddering as flesh melted to ectoplasm, trying not to scream as suit replaced skin. Not his normal transformation, this one was too slow- too confused by the order he couldn’t follow to make it an instantaneous change. He had to show he wasn’t wearing his human skin, show how completely he changed. Dying slowly, bit by bit  to be someone else. Not ‘his son’. His enemy. Green eyes stared back at the red ones as he panted, unsure if the monster was pleased.

It was furious, stepping forward as he shrank back and pulled his ghostly tail around himself. “I told you to get out.”

“I can’t.” He whimpered, wanting to look away but unable to.

Another voice behind him, the mom that wasn’t spoke. Yet he didn’t understand a word of it, too terrified by the being in front of him to even process it as language.

“Don’t lie to me Phantom. Get out of my son before we tear you out.”

His name made him flinch, gloved hands clutching at his head as the impossibility of that tore at his mind. “I’m not, I swear, I can’t get out of myself!” How could he not be in his son when he was his son? He had to find a way, his slowed but still pounding heart offering some idea.

“Don’t you dare pretend to be my son, ghost.”

He wanted to explain he wasn’t pretending, that he wasn’t disobeying on purpose but the massive thing had him by the collar of his jumpsuit, leaving him busy trying to breathe enough to speak. If he wasn’t a hybrid, then maybe the monster would be satisfied? He didn’t get much time to wonder before getting tossed in a containment cell. “I’m not pretending- the accident…” he mumbled, trying to make himself look smaller as if he could hide from the hateful eyes that way. They stared at him, spoke gibberish to one another as the previous exhaustion came back with a vengeance. Keeping still felt like the best idea. When the bigger one locked eyes with him and ordered that he sleep, he did.

Dreaming and waking became one and the same. He stayed in his cage unless ordered out. They kept asking him the impossible, until he tried to rip out his heart to ‘separate’ through death. They didn’t want their son harmed- didn’t see how separating was harm, but did not destroy him for that blunder. He hunted, brought them what they wanted. They kept watching as if expecting him to disobey, to slip his leash even as he practically groveled when they approached. He hoped Mom was okay, wherever she was. Maybe Jazz could rescue her from the monster with the cornet on spring break. A ghost couldn’t. A ghost simply obeyed.

Prompt: Danny hasn't been feeling himself, blacking out and having strange dreams. Unbeknownst to him, Freakshow's staff was not the only artifact that could control ghosts. Even worse, Jack and Maddie are the ones who get their hands on that object.

[shewhoworshipscarlin]

Bert Williams

Bert Williams (November 12, 1874 – March 4, 1922) was a Bahamian-born American entertainer, one of the pre-eminent entertainers of the Vaudeville era and one of the most popular comedians for all audiences of his time. He is credited as being the first black man to have the leading role in a film: Darktown Jubilee in 1914.[2]

He was by far the best-selling black recording artist before 1920. In 1918, the New York Dramatic Mirror called Williams "one of the great comedians of the world."

Williams was a key figure in the development of African-American entertainment. In an age when racial inequality and stereotyping were commonplace, he became the first black American to take a lead role on the Broadway stage, and did much to push back racial barriers during his three-decade-long career. Fellow vaudevillian W. C. Fields, who appeared in productions with Williams, described him as "the funniest man I ever saw—and the saddest man I ever knew."

Williams was born in Nassau, The Bahamas, on November 12, 1874, to Frederick Williams Jr. and his wife Julia. At the age of 11, Bert permanently emigrated with his parents, moving to Florida in the United States. The family soon moved to Riverside, California, where he graduated from Riverside High School in 1892. In 1893, while still a teenager, he joined different West Coast minstrel shows, including Martin and Selig's Mastodon Minstrels in San Francisco, where he first met his future professional partner, George Walker.

He and Walker performed song-and-dance numbers, comic dialogues and skits, and humorous songs. They fell into stereotypical vaudevillian roles: originally Williams portrayed a slick conniver, while Walker played the "dumb coon" victim of Williams' schemes. But they soon discovered that they got a better reaction by switching roles and subverting expectations. The sharp-featured and slender Walker eventually developed a persona as a strutting dandy, while the stocky Williams played the languorous oaf. Despite his thickset physique, Williams was a master of body language and physical "stage business." A New York Times reviewer wrote: "He holds a face for minutes at a time, seemingly, and when he alters it, bring[s] a laugh by the least movement."

In late 1896, the pair were added to The Gold Bug, a struggling musical. The show did not survive, but Williams & Walker got good reviews, and were able to secure higher profile bookings. They headlined the Koster and Bial's vaudeville house for 36 weeks in 1896–97, where their spirited version of the cakewalk helped popularize the dance. The pair performed in burnt-cork blackface, as was customary at the time, billing themselves as "Two Real Coons" to distinguish their act from the many white minstrels also performing in blackface. Williams also made his first recordings in 1896, but none are known to survive. They participated in a "Benefit for New York's Poor" held on February 9, 1897 at the Metropolitan Opera House, their only appearance at that theater.

While playing off the "coon" formula, Williams & Walker's act and demeanor subtly undermined it as well. Camille Forbes wrote, "They called into question the possible realness of blackface performers who only emphasized their artificiality by recourse to burnt cork; after all, Williams did not really need the burnt cork to be black," despite his lighter skin complexion. He would pull on a wig full of kinky hair in order to help conceal his wavy hair. Terry Waldo also noted the layered irony in their cakewalk routine, which presented them as mainstream blacks performing a dance in a way that lampooned whites who'd mocked a black dance that originally satirized plantation whites' ostentatiously fussy mannerisms. The pair also made sure to present themselves as immaculately groomed and classily dressed in their publicity photos, which were used for advertising and on the covers of sheet music promoting their songs. In this way, they drew a contrast between their real-life comportment and the comical characters they portrayed onstage. However, this aspect of their act was ambiguous enough that some black newspapers still criticized the duo for failing to uplift the dignity of their race.

In 1899, Williams surprised his partner George Walker and his family when he announced he had recently married Charlotte ("Lottie") Thompson, a singer with whom he had worked professionally, in a very private ceremony. Lottie was a widow eight years Bert's senior. Thus, the match seemed odd to some who knew the gregarious and constantly traveling Williams, but all who knew them considered them a uniquely happy couple, and the union lasted until his death. The Williamses never had children biologically, but they adopted and reared three of Lottie's nieces. They also frequently sheltered orphans and foster children in their homes.

Williams & Walker appeared in a succession of shows, including A Senegambian Carnival, A Lucky Coon, and The Policy Players. Their stars were on the ascent, but they still faced vivid reminders of the limits placed on them by white society. In August 1900, in New York City, hysterical rumors of a white detective having been shot by a black man erupted into an uncontained riot. Unaware of the street violence, Williams & Walker left their theater after a performance and parted ways. Williams headed off in a fortunate direction, but Walker was yanked from a streetcar by a white mob and was beaten.

The duo's international success established them as the most visible black performers in the world. They hoped to parlay this renown into a new, more elaborate and costly stage production, to be shown in the top-flight theaters. Williams and Walker's management team balked at the expense of this project, then sued the pair to prevent them from securing outside investors or representation. Filings in the suit revealed that each member of the team had earned approximately $120,000 from 1902 to 1904, or $3.5 million apiece in 2019 dollars. The lawsuit was unsuccessful, and Williams and Walker accepted an offer from Hammerstein's Victoria Theatre, the premiere vaudeville house in New York. A white Southern monologist objected to the integrated bill, but the show went ahead with Williams and Walker and without the objector.

In February 1906, Abyssinia, with a score co-written by Williams, premiered at the Majestic Theater. The show, which included live camels, was another smash. Aspects of the production continued the duo's cagey steps toward greater creative pride and freedom for black performers. The nation of Abyssinia (now Ethiopia) was the only African nation to remain sovereign during European colonization, repelling Italy's attempts at control in 1896. The show also included inklings of a love story, something that had never been tolerated in a black stage production before. Walker played a Kansas tourist while his wife, Aida, portrayed an Abyssinian princess. A scene between the two of them, while comic, presented Walker as a nervous suitor.

While the show was praised, many white critics were uncomfortable or uncertain about its cast's ambitions. One critic declared that audiences "do not care to see their own ways copied when they can have the real thing better done by white people," while the New York Evening Post thought the score "is at times too elaborate for them and a return to the plantation melodies would be a great improvement upon the 'grand opera' type, for which they are not suited either by temperament or by education." The Chicago Tribune remarked, disapprovingly, "there is hardly a trace of negroism in the play." George Walker was unbowed, telling the Toledo Bee, "It's all rot, this slapstick bandanna handkerchief bladder in the face act, with which negro acting is associated. It ought to die out and we are trying to kill it." Though the flashier Walker rarely had qualms about opposing the racial prejudice and limitations of the day, the more introspective and brooding Williams internalized his feelings.

In 1908, while starring in the successful Broadway production Bandanna Land, Williams and Walker were asked to appear at a charity benefit by George M. Cohan. Walter C. Kelly, a prominent monologist, protested and encouraged the other acts to withdraw from the show rather than appear alongside black performers; only two of the acts joined Kelly's boycott.

Bandanna Land continued the duo's series of hits and introduced a tour de force sketch that soon Williams made famous: his pantomime poker game. In total silence, Williams acted out a hand of poker, with only his facial expressions and body language conveying the dealer's up-and-down emotions as he considered his hand, reacted to the unseen actions of his invisible opponents, and weighed the pros and cons of raising or calling the bet. It later became a standard routine in his solo stage act, and was recorded on film by Biograph Studios in 1916.

Walker was in ill health by this point due to syphilis, which was then incurable. In January 1909 he suffered a stroke onstage while singing, and was forced to drop out of Bandanna Land the following month. The famous pair never performed in public again, and Walker died less than two years later. Walker had been the businessman and public spokesman for the duo. His absence left Williams professionally adrift.

After 16 years as half of a duo, Williams needed to reestablish himself as a solo act. In May 1909 he returned to Hammerstein's Victoria Theater and the high-class vaudeville circuit. His new act consisted of several songs, comic monologues in dialect, and a concluding dance. He received top billing and a high salary, but the White Rats of America, an organization of vaudevillians opposed to encroachments from blacks and women, intimidated the theater managers into reducing Williams' billing. The brash Walker would have resisted such an insult to his star status, but the more reserved Williams did not protest. Allies were few; big-time vaudeville managers were fearful of attracting a disproportionate number of black audience members and thus allowed only one black act per bill. Due to his ethnicity, Williams typically was forced to travel, eat and lodge separately from the rest of his fellow performers, increasing his sense of isolation following the loss of Walker.

In 1910, Booker T. Washington wrote of Williams: "He has done more for our race than I have. He has smiled his way into people's hearts; I have been obliged to fight my way." Gene Buck, who had discovered W. C. Fields in vaudeville and hired him for the Follies, wrote to a friend on the occasion of Fields' death: "Next to Bert Williams, Bill [Fields] was the greatest comic that ever lived."

Williams' stage career lagged after his final Follies appearance in 1919. His name was enough to open a show, but they had shorter, less profitable runs. In December 1921, Under the Bamboo Tree opened, to middling results. Williams still got good reviews, but the show did not. Williams developed pneumonia, but did not want to miss performances, knowing that he was the only thing keeping an otherwise moribund musical alive at the box office. However, Williams also emotionally suffered from the racial politics of the era, and did not feel fully accepted. He experienced almost chronic depression in his later years, coupled with alcoholism and insomnia.

On February 27, 1922, Williams collapsed during a performance in Detroit, Michigan, which the audience initially thought was a comic bit. Helped to his dressing room, Williams quipped, "That's a nice way to die. They was laughing when I made my last exit." He returned to New York, but his health worsened. He died at his home, 2309 Seventh Avenue in Manhattan, New York City on March 4, 1922 at the age of 47. Few had suspected that he was sick, and news of his death came as a public shock. More than 5,000 fans filed past his casket, and thousands more were turned away. A private service was held at the Masonic Lodge in Manhattan, where Williams broke his last barrier. He was the first black American to be so honored by the all-white Grand Lodge. When the Masons opened their doors for a public service, nearly 2,000 mourners of both races were admitted. Williams was buried in Woodlawn Cemetery in The Bronx, New York City.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bert_Williams

[fruitlicense]

I have a theory about one of the reasons why Lupin left Tonks in Deathly Hallows - if you look at his past, Remus Lupin has never really learned to live without moving or running, so when the chance comes to settle in one place, he doesn’t quite know how to cope.

We start with when he’s bitten by Fenrir Greyback. Remus was just under five years old, so this is effectively the beginning of his life besides some hazy childhood memories. He’s a werewolf now, which he has to keep secret, so his life can never really be “normal” again. He and his parents move a lot, because they can’t let anyone close enough to find out. Remus’ early childhood is marked by movement and secrets, because if he’s not literally moving homes, he’s moving around the people he knows, eventually avoiding them altogether by becoming homeschooled.

When Remus goes to Hogwarts, he’s not moving as much in a literal sense, since Gryffindor Tower is kind of his home base now. However, he’s still sitting on a secret that’s a little too big for him, and as a result, he’s moving around his roommates, trying to balance being friends and keeping them in the dark. This is a constant for him - he can’t take a break from hiding his lycanthropy. It’s always in the back of his mind.

When the Marauders find out, I think it’s interesting that their acceptance is characterized by their willingness and ability to “run” with Remus in a sense. Part of their friendship is being the school pranksters, going out on secret missions with the cloak and Map to help them stay steps ahead of everyone else and run or hide if they need to. When they become Animagi, they literally change themselves to keep up with Remus as he runs. They’ve stayed by his side as a human, running around together to cause mischief, and now they can keep pace with him as the wolf as well. Their willingness to change something as intrinsic as the ways they move shows how much the Marauders care about Remus and about each other in general.

When school ends, the war hits, and Remus joins the Order of the Phoenix, the moving, running, and hiding become more literal and more pervasive in his life. He’s part of an illegal underground organization that’s fighting a supremacist terror group, and his colleagues are getting murdered around him. Post-graduation for him isn’t a time to go to college, find a job, or find a more permanent place to live. He’s fighting Death Eaters, jumping from safe house to safe house, and dropping off the grid for long periods of time to live amongst the werewolves (presumably - I don’t have much canon basis for all of this beyond what we know of the second Order and assuming it functions much like the first). As a marginalized group, the other werewolves don’t have jobs or homes either. The nature of the way their condition is treated in the wizarding world means that they always have to keep moving, or else risk injury, imprisonment, and/or death. At this point in Remus' life,  the rule is keep moving and keep your secrets or die. Settling in one place is a death sentence, as the Potters find out.

After Voldemort is defeated the first time, Remus has to deal with the fallout of the war and what it did to his friends and family, and he also has to deal with trying to create a life for himself. His demons have increased in number - he’s not just running from his wolfish side now. He’s got the ghosts of James, Lily, and Peter to reckon with, as well as the specter of Sirius Black. He has to keep moving from job to job and place to place, not only because his lycanthropy means long-term employment is hard to find and requires him to find safe places to transform, but also because he doesn’t want his guilt and grief to catch up to him. We can assume that he doesn’t have a steady income or place to stay during this time, and it’s very likely that he has been homeless for periods of time. When Dumbledore finds him in that cottage in Yorkshire, the way it’s described - “tumbledown,” “semi-derelict” - makes me wonder if it’s a squat instead of a home, and Dumbledore just catches him at a short stopping point.

When Remus returns to Hogwarts, he’s again in one physical place, but he’s still moving a lot. He’s hiding his lycanthropy from the students and possibly some/most of the staff, so his personal life is still full of secrets. In addition, his job as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor doesn’t really lend itself to a calm career. He’s teaching his students about defensive spells and Dark creatures, and since a lot of his qualifications probably come from his experience of the first war, his daily routine is permanently linked to his trauma. Most importantly, he’s also hiding a lot of his history from Harry, because the central threat in Prisoner of Azkaban is tied directly to his backstory. He’s still moving around in a more figurative way, trying not to stay still long enough for someone to pick up on his patterns and expose him. When his secrets catch up to him, he becomes more erratic, forgetting his Wolfsbane Potion and expressing willingness to kill Peter Pettigrew without a second thought, a departure from his usual cool-headedness. He’s back in the mindset of the war, dropping everything at signs of danger and covering his tracks to move on to a new place, and Sirius, now an ally and friend once again, is keeping pace with him. “Together?” “I think so.”

When Snape exposes Remus’ lycanthropy to the school, he has to start moving again. We don’t know where he is between leaving Hogwarts and joining the Order again once it gets restarted, but we can infer that he probably experiences another year of itinerant living as he jumps from job to job and place to place. When he does “settle” (comparatively), he comes back to Grimmauld Place, but he’s clearly in a war mindset once again, and half the time he’s on missions and not even present in the house. Just because he’s apparently the Order member most frequently there with Sirius doesn’t mean that he’s present all that much, because Sirius can’t keep pace with him anymore. He’s being blocked by Dumbledore and is physically and emotionally stagnant while under house arrest, and we know by now that Remus must always keep moving to survive.

Order of the Phoenix is a turning point for Remus. With Sirius’ death, he finally outpaces his childhood - the last person who he was close to as a young man is now dead. Remus is effectively the last living Marauder (at this point, I would argue that Peter Pettigrew’s betrayal has removed him from Remus’ list of people he cares about and who care for him). It’s also when he meets Tonks, and their relationship grows from one of coworkers to friends to lovers in unseen scenes during and between Order of the Phoenix and Half-Blood Prince. She’s kind of a weird choice if you’re picking someone to sort of settle Remus and slow his pace, since I wouldn’t describe her as mellow exactly, but the fact of the matter is that Remus’ growing relationship with Tonks is an obstacle to his habit of movement. She keeps pace with him at first as a colleague/friend like the Marauders did, but her pace changes with her feelings, and she wants Remus to slow down with her. Tonks is stubborn and adamant about what she feels, and in her outburst after Bill Weasley is attacked by Fenrir Greyback, we see that she’s not willing to let Remus try to breeze past his feelings for her. She plants herself right in the middle of his path, and he’s forced to either stop or destroy her as he tries to push past.

Here’s the thing - Remus doesn’t want to stop moving, and we see him resist it, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing to slow down. If we parallel his habit of movement with his lycanthropy (since they’re already linked), we can infer that just as being a werewolf has left him scarred and in pain, constant movement takes a toll on him. Just because he’s lived this way his whole life doesn’t automatically make it healthy. The secrecy and isolation don’t make him happy, and they are directly tied to how much faster he’s moving compared to everyone else - trying to outpace the ghosts. Tonks, in directly blocking his path, is essentially staging an intervention to bring him back to a speed that his loved ones can keep up with. He still has her, Harry, and the Order, just as long as he stops trying to convince himself he’s better off alone and outrunning the dead.

The problem with this is that, as physics tells us, it’s not easy to stop an object that has had a set path of motion for most of its existence. Remus isn’t used to slowing or stopping, and he’s antsy to run again. The things he’s been trying to avoid catch up to him - self-doubt and self-hatred about his lycanthropy and its effects on his life, the need for adrenaline and movement that the wars have acclimated him to. When he feels like it’s all too much to handle, he falls back into his old track of movement in a hunt for something known and familiar. Even Harry notices this, comparing Remus to Sirius and accusing them both of wanting to be daredevils. Remus is trying to get back to the pace he ran at with the Marauders, but Harry argues that that’s not the pace Remus’ family needs him to be at. 

The only way for Remus to be content is to copy what Tonks showed him how to do - stand his ground and face the ghosts head-on. He has to go back home and learn to live a slower life if he wants to have a family, and he does want that. When asked what he would say to Harry on Potterwatch, he makes it clear that he is thankful for Harry’s intervention, and his later joy at Teddy’s birth is infectious. He fucks it all up initially, but Remus does eventually come to the understanding that the way he was living - constantly moving to stay ahead of his secrets and regret - wasn’t sustainable. He’s willing to try, and I only wish we’d gotten to see the just-barely-a-month he got to slow down with Teddy and Tonks.

The Battle of Hogwarts, in a way, proves my point about movement. Remus is forced to drag himself out of family life and back into the mindset of the war, and in a very Marauder-like impulse, Tonks decides to join him at his pace this time. I won’t say they doomed themselves, because the battle required them to exist at the pace of war, and they didn’t have a choice if they wanted to keep their loved ones safe. However, it is undeniable that it is the running that killed them. The movement of war is deadly, and this time, it hit the people we were wishing the most to escape it.

TLDR: Remus Lupin has lived his whole life trying to outrun his personal demons, and his behavior at Grimmauld Place in Deathly Hallows was a deeply shitty reaction to feeling out of his depth when living a slower life.

Sources:

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

https://www.wizardingworld.com/writing-by-jk-rowling/remus-lupin 

https://www.wizardingworld.com/writing-by-jk-rowling/werewolves

(Sorry this is so messy! I was excited to write it and put it on paper as if I was speaking it in a sort of tangled stream of consciousness. I hope I got my point across okay!)

[1a-imagines]

Can I request hcs/scenario for Deku? They meet Pre-OfA and he starts crushing on her, nd she’s just oblivious even in UA? Thanks!

Puppy crush:

Characters: Midoriya

Type: Just a very fluffy scenario.

Overview: Midoriya's got a crush on the most oblivious person in school, and is trying his best to confess to her, though all his attempts seem to end is disaster.

"Good morning, Midoriya!"

"AAH! G-GOOD MORNING Y-Y/N!"

You let out a laugh at his upbeat attitude, not thinking to question the stuttering or the blush on his face as you passed him and walked into the school.

"Wow.. that was painful to watch." Midoroya heard Kaminari mutter from behind him.

"I do not understand… why don't you just confess already?" Iida chimed in as he followed a defeated looking Midoriya into school. He had yet again made a fool of himself in front if you. Barely managing out a stuttered reply as you greeted him. It was a repeating occurrence that happened everyday. He just couldn't stop himself from feeling tense around you. His heart beat always accelerated to a pace that knocked his breath away, and no matter how many times he tried not to, all he could ever focus on whenever you talked to him was your soft lips. He was turning into a walking disaster and it was starting to drive him insane.

Which is why he kept making an idiot of himself around you. "I-I can't just confess to her! It's not that easy.."

Kaminari raised an eyebrow. "So what? You plan to keep being an awkward mess everyday?"

'That's how I've lived my life so far izuku' thought bitterly. He couldn’t even imagine himself getting enough courage to tell you how he feels! Not to mention all the other things that were holding him back.

He sure he had no chance to be with someone like you. You were beautiful, smart, funny, caring, way out of his league. He didn’t notice himself letting out a dreamy sigh as the very thought of you.

"Oh man, you got it real bad huh?" Kaminari nudged his arm with an amused smile.

The embarrassment seeped in almost immediately. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t hide his attraction to you. Everyone in class had noticed the way he looked at you, how he always stood a bit too close to you without realising it, or how his face turned red anytime you so much as glanced at him. Everybody knew… everybody except you. If he was honest he was thankful that you were too oblivious to notice how obviously in love with you he was. He couldn’t even imagine how horrified he would feel if you found out! He could already feel a shiver run down his spine at the thought of your rejection.

“Confessing might not be easy but maybe it’s for the best? You’re constantly worried that she might find out and not only that, you’ve said quite a few times that you get distracted from your studies by the mere thought of her? This cannot carry on if it’s affecting your education!! You should confess and depending on her reaction you will either be able to relax into a relationship or learn to move on.” He couldn’t deny that Iida had a good point. A lot of his problems would go away if he just manned up a little and confessed to you But he was sure he would be rejected on the spot and his heart could take that kind of hit!

His friends shared a glance as they took notice of his inner turmoil.

“We can help you, dude! I am pretty good with the ladies!”

“You’d really do that?” He looked over to them, a spark of hope in his eyes. Maybe it was lame to have your friends help you with asking a crush out but what other choice did he have? He had no confidence to outright say it to you but you’d never figure it out otherwise! No matter how he acted you always seemed to brush it off as friendly. Even though his face turned red whenever you spoke to him, even though his eyes would avoid yours at all costs, even though he'd trip over his words and make a complete mess of himself. You never caught onto his affections. It felt hopeless.

“Of course we'll help you! Anything for a fellow classmate and friend!”

~~~~

“Hey! Y/n! Come sit with us!” Kaminari said, already dragging you over to his table and not leaving much room for you to protest. “Oh- ok?”

You walked over with him to the table, but when you got there he pushed you to sit down in between Midoriya and himself, though when he plopped down next to you he sat down so close you were forced to be squished up against Izuku. Of course, you never thought to question the behaviour, you didn’t seem too bothered by the close proximity either and began to dig into your lunch.

With your shoulders pressed so tightly together you could feel his body trembling. You turned to him, your eyes filled with worry. "Izuku what's wrong? Are you cold?"

"N-no! I'm fine!" He squeaked.

'Not fine. This is not fine!!' You were so close!! He was too scared to move. He tried to shuffle over a bit but was met with the end of his seat and he almost ended up on the floor. He looked over your shoulder to Kaminari, who was grinning. He sent Midoirya a thumbs up before mouthing "talk to her."

He sighed, this isn’t exactly what he had in mind when he agreed to let them help, but he might as well take the opportunity while you were still here. Who knows when the next chance he could talk to you might be? “So- uh.. How was your day?” He scrambled to find a conversation topic but he assumed he didn’t choose well when he saw Kaminari slap his forehead at his choice.  

“Pretty good! I still hate maths class though, it’s so hard.” You said, mouth full of food. You even had a piece of rice stuck to our cheek and he felt his heart melt at the sight. The way his eyes softened as you talked to him about class did not go unseen by the other two sitting at the table. Honestly, how could you not see the way he smiled at you? It was the dorkiest grin in the world! Iida and Kaminari shared a glance. You really were that oblivious to his affections for you? This was going to be harder than they thought.

“Cute~” He sighed dreamily.

“What?”

“AHH NOTHING!” Midoriya screamed. The way you stared at him with a blank gaze made him want to hit his head off the table. This was so embarrassing, how did he manage to say that outloud?! He couldn't believe that really just happened.

Eventually you let out a giggle, “I think you’re cute too!” You reached over to ruffle his hair. It was such a friendly gesture, he knew you meant nothing by it. It was like something a best friend would do and it killed him inside. You really didn’t see him romantically at all?

“”Well! I’m finished now! Thanks for letting me sit with you, See you guys later!” You stood up and walked off. As soon as you were gone Midoriya let his head fall into his arms on the table. Trying to hide his shame from the rest of the world. “Dude… Even I felt that...” Kaminari shook his head empathetically.

“What do you mean? She said he was cute too! That’s a success, is it not?” Iida was clearly confused as to why the other two looked so defeated. “It was the way she said it, like she was talking to a puppy or a baby rather than a romantic interest.” Kaminari explained before turning to the sulking boy next to him. “Don't worry! We’ll get it next time! You just got to be more forward!”

--

“Are you sure about this?”

“Don’t worry! We’ll be right behind you! All you gotta do is ask her out on the walk to the dorms! It’s quiet and the sun's setting! It’ll be totally romantic! You got this.” Kaminari gave him a thumbs up and Iida followed his suit though he wasn’t sure he could really be much help other than support. He had about as much knowledge on this subject matter than Midoriya did.

With one deep inhale through his nose to calm himself down Midoriya walked over to you when he saw you leaving the school. “Hey y/n! Want to walk back together?”

“Oh? Sure!” Your smile was so radiant and it rendered him speechless again. For a while the walk was silent, but didn’t feel uncomfortable, It was peaceful. Even just being in your presence felt warm. It made him giddy to know that you were walking beside him. It was a strange yet euphoric feeling to be so in love-

‘I’m… in love with her..’ The realisation that his feelings had grown stronger than just some puppy crush hit him like a truck. His hands tightened around the straps of his backpack.

He realised he didn’t have much longer before you two reached your destination. He turned around to see his friends walking at a distance behind him. They gestured to him to go for it and he took another deep breath. These were serious feelings now, they weren’t something he could take lightly or forget about. He loved you, and whether or not you reject him, he needs you to know.

Before he knew it his feet stopped walking and when you noticed he wasn’t beside you anymore you turned around. Tilting your head, “What’s wrong?”

“I-I have something I wanted to ask you.”

You hummed in confusion, gesturing for him to go on. He looked tense, his lips were pressed together tightly as if he were holding something back and it was about to burst. “Whats-”

“Please go out with me!”

There was a small silence, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you after his outburst. He didn’t have a single clue as to what you could be thinking right now, the silence was torturous.

“I’d love to.”

His legs almost gave out when you spoke. He was finally able to look up at you, his eyes shining so brightly, his smile spreading across his cheeks, despite him trying to hold it back.. He felt like he was on cloud nine, he couldn’t believe this was really happening.

“Where are we going to go? Oh! We should invite the others too!”

And like that his whole world came crashing down around him.

“Others..?” He croaked out in disbelief. Th-There's no way… there's no way you could misinterpret that! He had been so forward with you and yet you still thought he was just being friendly?

This couldn’t be happening.

He saw your lips moving but couldn’t hear a word you said. You jumped happily and began walking back to the dorms. He followed you, just barely managing to drag his body along the path, he didn't say another word- Hell! He couldn’t even think. His brain was fried. He felt completely hopeless.

“Well! I better go get some studying done! See you later!” You gave him one last smile and disappeared down the hall. Midoriya crashed down onto the nearest couch. He wanted to scream into the pillows but that was just childish. He opted for shoving his face into the plush cushions instead, once again hiding his shame from the world.

“So… I’m guessing it didn’t go well then..” He heard Iida ask.

He couldn’t even find it in him to lift his face from the pillows as he replied, “I asked if she wanted to go out with me and she said we should invite the others..” his muffled voice came.

“Yikes..” Kaminari muttered.

“Perhaps you should take a break for today? It may not have been as successful as you hoped but you can always try again tomorrow! Don't give up!” Iida cheered.

Midoriya agreed, it was time to call it quits for today. His soul, his pride, his confidence just couldn’t handle another blow like that. He wasn’t even sure he would be recovered by tomorrow. He was starting to doubt that you would ever understand how deep his feelings for you were.

He spent the rest of the evening, studying, training, honestly? Just about anything as long as he could distract himself from reliving the embarrassing memories from today.

Though, no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't let it go. They kept replaying in his mind, he could barely focus on anything. It was driving him crazy! When he was eating dinner it reminded him of the awkward lunch he had with you, and when he went on a jog he was reminded on the walk back from school. The memories were still so vivid in his head and he still strung from the sort-of-rejection.

What if you did know about his feelings for you but were just too nice to reject him? Did you think he couldn’t handle it? Sure, it would hurt, a lot, but he just wanted some answers! He wanted to know if he ever stood a chance to be with you!

He couldn’t take it anymore. In a sudden burst of confidence he marched up to your room before curfew. He couldn’t live with himself if he let this one chance slip away from him, if he let you slip away from him. Even if you didn’t feel the same, he just had to know. This whole song and dance was slowly killing him. He was going to be upfront with you and finally put an end to all of it!

When he was standing outside your door it took him a few seconds to work up the courage to actually knock. Why was he still hesitating? He shook his head, he had to do this. No backing out now!

He knocked and it only took a few seconds for you to open the door. It was getting late and you looked sleepy, you were in comfy clothes, your eyes half lidded as you rubbed at them. He bit his lip, hoping he didn’t wake you up, but this was something that had to be done. He was sure if he left it until tomorrow his confidence would fade and so would his chance to express his feelings.

But seeing how sleepy you looked- It was so cute! Why did your face make his mind go blank? You made him weak at the knees and despite coming here with full confidence it slipped a little when he remembered how beautiful, and way out of his league, you were.

“Midoriya? What are you doing here?” You muttered.

“I need to say something!” He stood tall, his lack of stutter surprised even himself.

“When I asked if you wanted to go out I didn’t mean like a friendly group outing..” This time he was able to stare into your eyes, his gaze unwavering as he spoke. You were suddenly wide awake when you saw how serious he looked “I want to go out with you! But only with you. Because I-”

‘Don’t freeze up now!’ He mentally scolded himself.

“Because I have feelings for you. “ you opened your mouth to reply but he shook his head and spoke up before you could. “More than friends. Actually.. I think I might be in love with you. So please don’t take this the wrong way, because I don’t think i’ll ever have enough courage to confess to you again.” He sent you a lopsided smile.

Your lips parted, your eyes blinking rapidly as you processed the sudden confession. “So when we were walking back to the dorms together you meant, you want to go out, like, on a date?”

He nodded. “Yeah.. like a date.” He watched your head fall into your hands with a groan and he expected the worst for a second. “Oh god! I’m so dumb!” You looked up at him with a bashful grin. “I can’t believe I didn’t catch on! That must’ve been so annoying. I’m sorry!"

“No! Don’t be sorry! I think it worked out for the better anyway. At least I was able to look at you as I confessed this time around. I actually prefer this outcome.” He rubbed the back of his neck. You bit your lip to hide your smile.

He was such a sweetheart.

“So what do you say?”

You let out a small chuckle, your eyes softening at him. “The answer is still yes! I’d love to go out on a date with you.”

The nerves left his body so quickly that it left his head spinning. He let out a big sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure what to say. This was amazing, it was a dream come true! You- you actually said yes?! You want to go on a date with him!? How could this be real? He was so happy, and he was sure the smile on his face told you that much.

“R-really you mean it?! Are you sure?”

You nodded again, letting out a laugh. “I’m very sure! I wish you could’ve given me some signs though! I had no idea you liked me too!”

“....”

“M-..Midoriya… You ok?”

[wickedsrest-rp-archive]

ZOOted | group chatzy

TIMING: Midday, August 29, 2021. LOCATION: The Main Street of Downtown. SUMMARY: What’s black and white and silent all over? The creatures at the zoo make their grand escape. TRIGGERS: Brief vomit (marked in chatzy), animal death.

Anara Kingston was just getting ready to open up her family bistro for the day, hands propped on her hips as she admired the storefront that multiple generations had made thrive on the corner of Main Street in Downtown White Crest. There was your usual display of signage, an eye-catching banner that advertised a meatball sandwich special, and a small paper in the lower left corner of the front window that proudly read ‘127 days since last accident’. The notice was actually one of the larger draws of the establishment in a town such as White Crest, where oddities and danger seemed to lurk around every dark corner. People wanted to feel safe while they ate, munching on overpriced meals while they tarried the day away. Anara leaned forward to polish the glass in front of the advertisement of their sanctity, only to stiffen when she heard a foreign braying of...was that a donkey? No. She’d been around enough of the farms that peppered White Crest to know it wasn’t the sound of such a creature. 

A clopping of hooves was quick to follow the strange barking, and to the shop owner’s amazement, none other than a genuine zebra had begun to parade down Main Street, children and adults laughing and pointing alike as the escaped creature began to graze on the flowerbeds of a plant shop. 

Nell stared for a solid minute at the zebra that had waltzed down Main Street as if he owned the place, already trying to figure out whether this was some bullshit she was willing to deal with today, or if she should simply call Kaden at Animal Control and make this his problem. Unfortunately her decision was made for her as a swarm of pixies, seemingly also escaped from the zoo, buzzed after the zebra to tug at anything they could get their grimy little hands around. With a deep sigh, Nell made her way over to the swarm that was doing their best to scalp a woman by yanking at her hair. This was now officially a problem she needed to solve.

Sai huffed as he ran down the sidewalk after a black horned Scapegoat that had gleefully decided to aid some oddly silent goats on their break towards glorious freedom. “No Ibulba! They live in the zoo!”

Keys rattled as Metzli strode towards their gallery, deciding to walk through Main Street. Yuca was leashed and in tow, picking up her pace in excitement. She always loved walking about the gallery. All the pets and enrichment she could ask for, making for a very happy cat. That was until, a swarm of sprites zoomed past the two and made the vampire stumble and trip, dropping their umbrella. Yuca mewled terribly, angry and shocked by the sudden interruption. 

Metzli barely had enough time to react as they saw the swarm circling back around. Eyes widened and they reached for a door, any door to  swiftly let Yuca inside, but it was no use. The sun made their skin sting and bones ache, but getting their cat to safety was the top priority. Leaping into an alleyway, only a few of the sprites managed to find them and picked and prodded at their skin. “What the fuck!” They yelled, hoping they could catch someone’s attention as they wrapped their arms around Yuca. 

It had been drizzling on and off all day, leaving the pavement tiles slightly slicker than Chloe liked as she navigated her trolley along the road. Her mind was fractured in several place - thinking about the strange flower order she’d processed for a funeral this morning that for some reason wanted tree roots in the bouquet as well as flowers, about the grocery shop she’d just finished, and the painting of Lydia’s face that stuck with her. She didn’t notice the rumbling of animals at first, until something pig-sized, black, and white cantered past her. Chloe screamed, jumping back as she waved her umbrella at the mime-like creature, her eyes wide. After a second, her hand clutching her chest, Chloe realised it wasn’t another evil type of mime, but just a… an anteater? No, what were they called… The ones with the longer noses that looked a little like pie-bald pigs…. The word would come to her in a moment, but it didn’t look too threatening. 

Unfortunately, most things in White Crest didn’t. 

Bly had spent the morning in a coffee shop with Nas and overall it had been a really freaking good time. Nas had to meet up with his girlfriend so he had left them alone in the shop until they had finished their coffee. Leaving with the shop, overpacked backpack slung over their shoulder, they stopped short. Was there like a fair and they had missed the advertisements? It didn’t really seem like a fair, but White Crest was weird like that. “So, uh, is this like an event? I didn’t buy a ticket so I’m not sure if I’m allowed to be here?” They looked over to a person nearby, hands splayed out in front of them. “I don’t have cash on me either, so I can’t even buy a ticket!”

White Crest’s one and only white Bengal tiger prowled around, looking at all of the strange and new sights that one never gets to see from behind a cage. However, she only had one thing on her mind. Where, oh where, was that zebra?

Alcher didn’t often go into town, but something had piqued her interest today. She could smell the animals crowding the streets, free from their cells at the local zoo. It was something she knew would be fun to watch, if not join in on. Unfortunately, being a wolf in this commotion might end up with her being chased by the humans who thought animals belonged in cages as well, so it was in her human guise that she showed up downtown, arms folded as she watched. Someone spoke up nearby, and Alcher shrugged. An event, not that would be funny. A smile curled her lips. “I can not say, but I can say I am enjoying this, are you?”

Nell didn’t necessarily want to kill the sprites. After all, as far as murderous pint-sized things went, they were decently harmless for the most part. And perhaps she could relate with being so angry at a world while being so little. Not that she’d ever admit that. So instead of burning them to bits with some form of iron, she looked around for any sort of box, container, something to hold the creature within. Seeing the person struggling with their umbrella nearby she yelled out to them. “You got a box or something? A bag? Anything?”

Morgan couldn’t remember how she’d convinced herself that taking Sundew along her usual weekend walk/leisurely shopping trip would be relaxing. On their way, the smug pixie delighted in reading every sign, front page, and logo they passed. When Morgan said Sundew didn’t have to, she knew how smart she was, she seriously didn’t have to, the pixie only cackled and circled higher to see more things, and then spoke of her ambition to market something to humans as ‘natural and organic’ and fill it with cat droppings. And this was before Morgan went from giving Bex a look of apology one next and starting a zebra eyeball-to-eyeball the next.

If Morgan had ever learned anything useful about zebras, it vanished in that moment. All she could process were its stripes, its beady, wicked little black eyes, and the tension freezing her cold muscles. 

“That's a dummy looking horsey,” Sundew giggled. “It’s hair is almost as funny looking as yours!”

Morgan ached to take the pixie and squeeze her quiet, but it dawned on her, just in time, that there were a lot of people she recognized just beyond her (at least one she never wanted to see) and stare-down with a zebra was going to be the least of her concerns. 

“Sai!” Morgan called. “You’re proficient in animal handling, right??”

Things in White Crest had been pretty mild, all things considered, which to experts like Leah meant that mischief was right around the corner.  She had been thinking it all morning, and the thoughts continued to plague her as she sat for a quick lunch in the park.  No sooner had the thought crossed her mind again than she heard a rumbling close by- literally around the corner.  She stood up suddenly, confusion lacing her features, and walked toward Main street where she saw the contents of the zoo quite literally spilling out into town.  A couple of lemurs hung from a tree nearby and suddenly, a dalmatian soared past her, running in the direction of a pet supply shop.  Did the zoo hold dalmations now, too?

“Uhhh, I mean, I am trying to enjoy it but, like, there’s a tiger here now.” Bly said etched the animal began to look around looking like it was trying to find prey. “I’m pretty sure it would probably try to eat me if it had a chance. I don’t want to be eaten today?” There was a lemur somewhere nearby, Bly could hear it and they were starting to think this wasn’t an event. “Do you think we should like call the government or something?”

Sai ran up to one of the zoo employees that’d been rather nonchalantly pursuing the escaping animals, recognizing their striped uniform and panda hat. “I’m sorry… sir did you ..” he panted hands on his knees. “See which …way…the …goats..went?” 

The Quiet Panda Fan regarded Sai expressionlessly for a time. Eyes with strange white pupils and black irises, contacts no doubt, seemed to bore into some deep place inside of the wizard. The Panda Fan turned and walked into an alley out of sight. 

“Oh thanks!” Sai followed after, thinking Ibulba and the goat exodus had run into a dead end. He walked into the alley only to watch the Panda fan be torn apart by some unseen force, sinews, sin, and fuzzy panda kitsch unraveling into a haze of hair-thin black and white strands. The pale and dark flesh-ribbons swirled around Sai like a school of curious Koi fish before slithering onto the walls of the alley. Black and white murals of zebras, penguins, pandas danced beneath a picture of a black sun with white rays all over the alley walls. Above it all were the words “BENEATH THE LOATHSOME NOISE OF LIFE, BLESSED SILENCE WAITS.”

Sai swallowed as he stared, but thankfully Morgan's voice called out from somewhere on the street. “Uh…uh, yes! Yes I can help,” the wizard shouted, running aware from the black and white murals now adorning the alley bricks.

Forming into a ball to protect Yuca and their face, Metzli heard Nell call out her question. They answered in a frustrated huff, “Does it look like a have a fucking box?!” Swatting away with an arm they growled and hit several of the few sprites picking at them, even managing to grab one and bite its head off without a second thought. 

Somewhere, in the distance, screaming could be heard. A waddle of penguins had just stolen a man’s coffee.

“I think it’s cute,” Bex had said when Morgan insisted Sundew didn’t need to read every sign possible as they strolled downtown. She was like a toddler, learning to read for the first time, and eager to show off and prove to people how smart they were. Bex gave Sundew a smile, and a quiet wink when Morgan stopped and Bex nearly ran into her. In the street, a zebra trotted by, and for a moment, Bex wasn’t sure she was seeing things right. She rubbed her eyes, looked between the animal and Morgan, snapping to and realizing it was, in fact, real, when she called out to Sai. What was he doing here? Why was there a zebra downtown? But as she looked around, she noticed more animals roaming the streets and took off in a trot after Morgan. “What’s going on-- what is that?” Wide curious eyes, not sure if she was supposed to panic or be of help somehow.

The anteater? Pig? shaped animal slowed to a trot in front of Chloe, then snuffled at a nearby plant pot full of purple gardenias, its long nose prodding and poking at the flowers. Skeptically, Chloe bristled the umbrella at it, not trusting that anything this innocuous looking could truly be innocuous. Someone yelled at her and she tore away her eyes from the creature for a second to look at the young woman. “Uh!” She yelled back, looking at her trolley full of groceries, before remembering that she’d packed some extra reusable cotton bags in case she bought more. Turning her gaze back to the animal that was now happily monching on the flowers, she pulled out the reusable bags. “Will these do? What is going on??”

Alcher regarded the tiger that was pointed out with a placid expression. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?” The child was complaining, and they smelled so human, it made Alcher’s nose crinkle through the scents of animals free from their prisons. “You do not know that. Not all animals are vicious and want to eat everything.” A shrug, and she was strolling away from them and into the street. “What good can men in suits do? I say enjoy the show, kinder, perhaps it is a free one.” 

Nell growled in frustration as the first person proved useless, though she supposed they were busy protecting their cat. Fine. As always, she’d have to do it herself. But then another woman procured a plastic bag, and there was hope for the people of the world and their abilities to respond to a crisis once again. “It’s gonna have to do!” Nell said while reaching out for the bags, already thinking of a spell she could use to make them stronger, harder to be torn apart by little sprite hands. “Looks like a jail break,” Nell replied dryly, recognizing some of the animals from the zoo.

The tiger could smell her prey in the distance. It was near a group of the two legged creatures, those humans who locked her in behind those bars and watched her. Now, she watched them. Now, they would not separate her from her meal. She moved forward with the confidence of a prisoner released from her cage after too long. Like a prisoner, she wanted a good meal, and she wanted it fresh. One of the humans, a strange smelling one, one that did not seem human at all, regarded her, and so the tiger returned the look only for a moment. She was so hungry. She would eat.

The sprites became preoccupied by Nell’s trapping attempt, giving Metzli enough time to get up and run off with Yuca in their arms. That’s when they saw the rest of the animals roaming about the street. Zebras, tigers, and several others. Supernatural others. “Whoa…” They said, amazed and confused. “What is happ—” They were interrupted by running into someone, and that someone was Morgan. 

“My familiar is criminal,” declared Sai mournfully as he reached Morgan, Bex, and another clumsy person,  face flushed from a long sprint down several streets.

“I guess?” Bly had to admit it did make sense that animals didn’t always want to eat people. Still… They didn’t want to test it. “They might get hurt if we don’t help them though! A tiger or a zebra isn’t going to do well in Maine. It’s cold here.” Then the tiger was looking at them and Bly was pretty thankful they didn’t pee themself. They slowly inched behind the intense lady, “I don’t like this. Making eye contact with a tiger is a bad idea!”

Sundew had never dreamed of a more perfect day. The humans looked so silly with their faces like that and one of them made the funniest sound when a fluffy cloud of sprites swarmed and picked at her nisty-nasty hair. 

Sundew flew out of her hiding spot on Morgan’s shoulder and conjured a mallet just her size between her fingers. She bonked the human running toward them to help, then she flew toward the sprites, cackling, “Yes! Yes! Cage-free chaos!” Then she flew to the nearest human and bit their hand and left the image of a lion paw on their wrist instead. “Woopsie! Better get that checked out! I hope your premiums are good!”

Morgan looked from Sundew, to Sai, to Bex, to the zebra, and back again. There were people losing their coffee, people losing their sanity, Nell and Chloe maybe doing something clever with a plastic bag, and it was all too much. 

“What do you mean criminal?” She cried. “Did Ibulba do this?” Normally this would’ve been outrageous but nothing was outrageous today. The zebra bared his teeth and Morgan jumped back and ran into someone else. 

“Oh, hi. Nice day for a walk, huh? You really might wanna consider going anywhere else right now.” Then she saw Sundew fluttering back their way with a familiar, dangerous look on her face. “Or better yet, get down! This really isn’t safe for anyone!”

Chloe eyed the animal chewing on the plants, itching around it carefully. When she looked up at Nell again, she frowned, finally realising that the ungulate creature wasn’t the only thing running around. All of the animals were black and white, and despite the havoc they were creating, they were much quieter than a normal stampede. “Are you going to use a bag to try and stop-” Chloe gestured at the skunks, snakes and single cow, as well as the terrifying creature beside them. Its nose was too long and flexible. She didn’t trust it.

Bex glanced between Sai and Morgan. Sai seemed breathless and Morgan seemed panicked and Sundew was off making trouble with some small, butterfly-looking creatures that seemed to like her. As far as animal handling went, Bex had rolled low, she’d never been around animals in her life, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know anything about them. The zebra brayed at them and she scooted behind Morgan as well, when someone bumped into them. A familiar someone. 

“Metzli??” she breathed, raising a brow. Why were they here? It was still daytime! “Oh, watchout!” She called, tugging on their arm as Sundew whizzed toward them, ready to spread more antics. “Sundew, no, please!” she tried. The pixie rarely listened to Bex, even though she often let them braid her hair in the garden and laugh about silly pixie things.

Nell shook her head while she mumbled a quick spell under her breath, and the cotton bag stiffened into something much harder. “What?” she asked with vague annoyance on her features while she tried to figure out how to herd the sprites into the bag. “You want me to use the bag on the tapir?” That was the long-nosed thing standing next to Chloe, right? She remembered seeing them in the jungles of South America. “If you wanna keep it as a pet you’re gonna have to use something else. Maybe think of a name for it first. But no- this is for them!” she replied, gesturing towards the swarm of pixies.

“Maybe? I don’t know? She is aiding and abetting it at least, and her unluck is very powerful ,” Sai confessed glumly, as if somehow convinced his magic goat would be put on trial for zoo escapes.

It was too late, Metzli was knocked to the ground and Yuca yelled out in terror. She almost ran off, but they managed to grab her leash and pull her back in as they got to their feet. They were too frantic between the chaos and trying to get into some shade. “Oh. Hi Bex!” They said in a daze and ran under a nearby canopy for protection with Yuca in their arms once again. Her hackles were raised and she was growling. 

Leah watched from across the street as a panda bear chewed on pages from a book, and that was the last straw.  Chaos and carnage she could let go, but book destruction?  Unacceptable.  She stomped across the street toward the bear, taking a deep breath to settle herself as she went.

The tiger and her gorgeous coat stopped to regard Alcher for a moment, and what a sight she was. Alcher simply stood and admired her back, giving a nod. She didn’t need help stalking her prey, but the proud zebra had strutted further down the street and seemed to be oblivious to the chaos it had caused, if maybe proud. Alcher could relate. She would want to kill it, too. Perhaps it would taste sweet, like the smell of fae hanging in the air. Fae blood was a treasure for someone like Alcher, though she did not indulge often-- fae held grudges, fae remembered, fae had magic she didn’t want to mess with. Alcher turned to beckon to the child, whose worry was palpable. “I think they’ll do just fine. Keep up, if you don’t want to be the next meal.”

The lemurs began jumping on people, using their little hands to flip people off. They’d learned things during school field trips.

Sundew would later tell her troop that she’d made fifty humans think they were turning into animals even if it was only more like ten. 

“Can’t catch me!” She giggled, whizzing by Bex. She pulled on the girl’s hair as hard as she could, humans were so silly when they weeble-wobbled, and did several circles in the air to show how much she was enjoying herself. She circled around to where the sprites were clustering and touched her toes to the tops of their heads as she crowed, “Fly my pretties, fly!” Just to get them good and riled up. 

The zebra in front of Morgan pulled its ears back and huffed silently, then, swift as chaos, it reared and lunged at Morgan, knocking her down as it pranced toward freedom. Morgan wheezed, wincing as her chest bent back into the right shape, and looked ahead into the thick cluster of goats and animals. “What I’m hearing, Sai, is that this is only gonna get worse until we find your goat. And so we gotta—“ she gestured vaguely at the mess brewing in front of them. “Find her?”

A tall jogger sighed and scooped up a grizzly bear cub that’d been making excited friendly noises at the bibio-voric panda bear and had begun to imitate to see if human literature was indeed delicious. “No Zeke,” Roy sighed, chiding his youngest sibling. “We can’t play with cousin right now.”

Bly’s mouth was dry, this lady just nodded at the tiger. The tiger who was hunting was nodded at by a Lady who didn’t seem to care. Their fingers drummed a rhythm against their sternum, drowning out the pounding underneath it. “You think it might be hungry after a different meal?” Their voice was reaching a scared squeaking pitch. “Should I call my mom?”

“No! I thought you wanted to use the bag on the tapir! It looks shifty!” Chloe yelled back, eyeing it suspiciously again. “I don’t want it as a pet!” All bickering about the tapir faded away as she saw the sprites twisting around in the air. Chloe froze, shrinking in on herself as she clutched her iron necklace her breath racing. “I- I can’t- I can’t I can’t-” She handed Nell an iron necklace with a long iron chain on it, fingers trembling as she pressed her back against the wall. Please don’t notice me, please don’t notice me, she thought as loud as she could.

Bex recoiled. “See if I ever share my gummies with you again!” she growled at the pixie as she incited a rebellion among the butterfly beings. Her eyes roamed again until she found Metzli under a canopy, cradling their cat. “Maybe you should get out of here? Your cat seems angry and scared and I think it’s just gonna get um--” she glanced back at Morgan, the zebra, wincing at the hit, refraining from calling out to her-- “worse.” She waved her hands a moment. “At least stay here! I’ll be back.” She backed away, then, and made her way over to Sai. “Which way did she go? Can you, like, track her?” She tried to think of a way for herself to be useful, but barring becoming a distraction, she couldn’t think of much. “Maybe we should split up?”

The tiger was close enough, now, her prey nearly in her mouth it was so close. She looked to the human that did not smell like a human, to the cub human next to her. They were not important. One did not smell like prey, and the other was too small to worry with. The tiger had her prey. She looked back at it and let out a silent snarl. Sound had not come out of her, not anymore. Not since she had been locked behind those bars, since the colors in her fur dripped from her like rain water. She lunged, teeth and claws sinking into the hind end of her prey. It, too, could not properly cry out. The tiger finally had her meal.

“She probably wants to take the petting zoo goats to the farm,” Sai said, watching with wide eyes as Morgan went from definitely dead to bodily wholeness in the span of seconds. “Which…would mean I’d be harboring stolen property aw shit noooooo!”

Bea heard the yells before she saw anything out of the ordinary. All she had wanted was to buy a bottle of wine and have a bubble bath tonight. Sighing, the witch cracked open a bottle, screw top, Thank God, and took a sip. She saw her sister doing something and determined it was likely best to go help her. “Hey, Nellie,” She said casually as she offered the bottle to her sister. “Who let the animals out of the zoo?”

The tiger took its prey and Alcher grinned. The young human was panicking and she rolled her eyes. “What good would that do? If you want to survive, you must think smarter.” She didn’t know why she was even bothering with this human child, but she didn’t know how to walk away anymore. She’d grown...soft. Shuddering, Alcher turned away. She could smell them on the air, her cousins. They were traveling together and were getting closer. She had been waiting for this. It was time to make a new home for them. “Come,” she ushered to the child, “I want to show you something.” 

Nell shot the other woman an incredulous look, sparing the black and white tapir once more glance before calling back to her in exasperation. “It’s a vegetarian!” The witch couldn’t remember the fancy name for ‘plant-eater’ right now. She wasn’t sure what to make of the blond’s alarm, but it only took Nell a moment to recognize the iron that had been deposited into her hand. She still didn’t want to kill the things...but maybe she could use this to herd them. It covered more ground than her knife, anyway. Swinging the chain above her head in a wide circle, Nell moved towards the sprites with her bag in the other hand. “Get!” she yelled out of instinct, as if she were wrangling some particularly rowdy cattle. “Into the bag and I won’t singe your wings off!” Bea? What the hell? Where had Bea come from? “I don’t know who let them out. Would you care to help get them back in?”

Miriam had decided to go for a walk, her skin mostly covered as she wore a large sun hat and glasses, looking for a meal before she headed back home. She was drawn to an intense amount of misery and pain, despair coming from a particular area of town. She was curious, this much concentrated agony unusual. “That little fucker waddled away with my cappuccino!” was all Miriam heard as she stumbled upon, well, a herd. All sorts of wildlife ran amok, and she blinked against the sight of it. She should turn around. She was going to turn around. This was just a little much for even her.

Mom always said not to lose your head. She also always said that letting strangers show you things would often end up poorly. Bly had already lost their head, might as well let a stranger show them something. Plus, she wasn’t scared and it was a good idea to be with someone who wasn’t losing their shit. “Uh, yeah sure? Is it another tiger cus I’m not sure if I can deal with that. Especially after witnessing that…” They trailed off looking at the tiger feasting, it made their stomach turn.

Of course Yuca was upset, her predators were roaming about and Metzli could do close to nothing to help as long as the sun was around. People were running and screaming as they glared quietly. They opted to simply threaten, baring their teeth in a predatory show of dominance under the safety of the shadows, petting Yuca and cooing at her every so often. They needed just a little more time before they were able to bolt back home. 

The wine was ignored and Bea let out a little huff through her nose. She wouldn’t offer next time then. Screwing the top back on, she placed the bottle back into her tote bag gingerly. It was a pretty nice wine. “Direct me, Nell. I don’t exactly have experience in this.” If Nell wasn’t here, deep in the fray like she always was, Bea might have considered leaving, but her sister was and so Bea couldn’t leave. “What are you going to do with the bag after you get them?”

The  sprites were only too happy to listen to Sundew. With a cascade of hissing and fluttering they rose, spread and circled the room. When the iron started flying into their cluster, their humming grew louder. Yes, it was going to be a cutting kind of day after all. 

Morgan nodded along to Sai’s words. “Mkay. No one is harboring stolen animals. Petting zoo. We got this. We totally got this.” She stood slowly and staggered forward. But maybe, uh—” Morgan didn’t want to broadcast that she couldn’t remember what Ibulba looked like under these circumstances, but just then, every fluffy goat in the distance looked the same. “A description so we can all be equally aware and prepared would help!” She nodded encouragingly, then stuck her hand into her bag and took out a snack to eat on her way to the goats. 

Alcher walked through the animals as they gave her a wide berth, especially those one might consider prey. Even in this form, they could sense what she was and she moved like a fish through water, smooth and gliding, the child in tow. Good, they’d decided to follow. She made her way down the alley and towards the edge of the streets, where it met fields of grass and eventually grew into trees. She looked back at the child. “Not a tiger, no,” she pointed at the pack of only black and white wolves, stalking the edge of the forest. They, too, had found prey, and Alcher was eager to watch. “Watch how nature truly works. This is what the world makes of those who are weak.” Of those who are prey, like little human children. 

“Everything here is weirdly quiet and mime shaped so the tapir probably eats hearts on the DL!” Chloe yelled back. When she noticed the sprites, her body trembled, remembering the time she’d seen them swarm and slaughter a nearby bird. The other thing she’d learned was that wherever there were sprites, there were pixies lording over them like a bite sized monarch. She shied further back into the street, terrified to get any closer, when suddenly the sprites grew more and more energetic, spreading out and urging into a frenzy. One zipped inches from Chloe’s face as she choked on the kind of scream banned by fae promise, unable to  do so much as swat them away. “Maybe- maybe- maybe something sweet!” Fae were renowned for their sweet tooths, she knew.

Sai shoved a hand in his pocket and grabbed a handful of Parmesan cheese from the baggie in there. He covertly held the Parmesan flat on his hand while moving closer to Morgan to screen the cheese from view. The Tyromancer murmured a few phrases under his breath and the cheese grains shaped themselves into a moving perfect replica of the black horned Scapegoat. “That's her”

Bro, Mom was one hundred percent right. This was a bad idea. A messed up teaching moment. The dizziness wasn’t fading as Bly looked over the scene that this woman had lead them too. “I really, really prefer when I see nature working through a documentary.” Why had they had coffee today? That always made their anxiety spike and their anxiety was already spoke. “I mean this is metal as fuck, like maybe you should write for horror movies, but I’m not a prey animal? I’m not going to be in situations like this very often and a pack of wolves isn’t going to eat me. I’m not weak. Or like I’m not usually weak?”

Bex watched in awe as Sai shaped the cheese, a bit gleeful at the creation of it. She wondered if one day she could do something like that. Maybe not with cheese. Definitely not with cheese. She glanced up and squinted down the street towards where Morgan was headed, the heard of goats far enough away to look like a stripe of cotton on the horizon. “Okay,” she nodded and started off across the street, looking both ways and letting a heard of quick moving raccoons scuttle down the road towards the alleys before turning to head up the sidewalk. She spotted Nell and Bea and another woman dealing with the sprites and decided it was probably better to not disturb them, pulling her own magic to the edge of her fingertips in case she’d need it. “Ibulba!” she called out as she got closer, “I’ve got um-- apples for you!” Goats liked apples, right?

Nell patience was worn thin. She already had so little of it to begin with, especially these days in the wake of everything that had happened over the past few months. Without warning she whipped the iron chain hard and fast enough to slice clean through a swath of the sprites, killing them instantly as their burned halves fell to the ground. “Get in the bag while you still can.” Again it had come to violence. Was this what she was supposed to be doing? Killing sprites and helping people? But the sprites weren’t being helped. The reason she couldn’t be worthy in the way Dave had said— was it because she’d never been able to solve things without adding more violence? Trying to shake her head of the thoughts she spoke again to Bea. “I’m gonna put them in the bag and glue them to the fucking ground. Then I’ll deal with them after.” Bea wanted direction. The biggest threat was the tiger, though she seemed happy now that she’d gotten her meal. “Just herd the animals back towards the zoo. Starting with this guy-” Nell nodded in the tapir’s direction. “A shadow leash or something.” The blond’s continued fear drew Nell’s attention, and she didn’t hesitate to dissect the sprite into two, the necklace swinging inches from the woman’s face. 

Alcher frowned and turned to look back at the child, golden eyes reflecting sunlight in a way human ones could not. “Oh, but you are, child,” was all she said, before she moved forward swiftly and finally ripped free of her human flesh. She wanted to join the pack, the ache of needing one too hard to resist. 

There was finally a chance, a chance to run in the midst of the chaos. Everyone was doing their best to do a multitude of things. Stop the chaos, run from the chaos, and even ensuing more chaos. Normally, Metzli would be excited by their own dangerous plans, but they would never dare risk Yuca’s life like that. And so they ran as fast as they could, inconspicuously. Running past Bex, they pulled her to the side as an ostrich that was running next to them nearly trampled her. “Watch your back!” They yelled as they continued to run, and get the fuck away from the fun. It was fun they were willing to miss out on. “This doesn’t mean I like you though!” Their voice trailed off into the distance as they finally escaped with Yuca. Passing by Bly and taking the chance for a little chaos. “Watch out. There’s a leopard behind you…!” Even yelling “Made you look!” As they continued. 

Ibulba was watching approvingly as the quiet petting zoo goats tore through an upscale clothing store. Stalls and hangers toppled inside the store, the destruction escalating in unlikely domino effects as some unseen force seemed to play havoc with probability. Ibulba and several other goats were munching on a delicious Marie-Chantal Miller wedding dress they’d pulled out from the shattered viewing window. But her ears perked up at her name. 

Ibulba turned to face the familiar she-human who was holding an apple to her. Ibubla turned back to look, and saw the sacking of the silky human-covering place was well in hand. She trotted over to Bex, seeming at home in the surrounding anarchy, and took a prospective bite of the apple.

Bex stumbled when Metzli whizzed by her, yanking her out of the path of a storming ostrich. Scrunching her nose, she shouted back, “Yes you do!” before she reached her destination and found the clothing store in utter disarray. Well...most of the dresses were tacky, anyway. She wondered if expensive clothing tasted better than bargain bin. But Ibulba was happily trotting over to her and she held out the apple she’d had in her bag and reached out to pat her head. “Hey there,” she said casually, smiling at her. “Sai’s kinda worried about you, ya know. Can you go back to him? I think he really needs your help.” From what Bex had seen of her, and knew of her, she was fiercely protective of her spellcaster. It was the bond between familiar and caster Nell had told Bex about, and she couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. “Besides, looks like your friends’ve got everything under control here.” 

Shadow leash. Bea could handle that, and she could start gathering a decent amount of animals with her as she went with them. “Alright. I’ll be back when I can okay.” It was good to see Nell take charge. There was energy in her voice, a commanding tone that had been missing. “You’re doing a good job,” She said offhandedly as she subtly made a shadow leash for the tapir. The animal moved uncomfortably as it realized what she had done but she was already walking along, forcing him to follow.

VOMIT TW BEGIN

This was it, this lady was a serial killer and Bly was about to be a victim. Then her skin… changed and there was a wolf in her place and finally that bile that had been working it’s way up erupted, Bly choking on it as they let out a surprised wail. As they spit it up into the grass, someone screamed about a leopard and it took all Bly’s strength to sprint away as fast as they could. They were pretty sure they had screamed, but they were running to fast to know what left them as they reentered the chaos. 

VOMIT TW END

Morgan had just enough calm to take note of the image without choking on her fried brains. “Beautiful,” she deadpanned, and shambled with Bex toward that goat.

Sundew flew somersaults into the air, faster and faster, speeding toward the ground. A big black and white furry creature sneezed and swatted at her and sent her veering off course, into Morgan’s head. 

Morgan caught the pixie in the palm of her hand. She had a few irritated words lined up and ready to go when a hundred little cuts pinged on her head and back. The sprites, scattering from the threat of iron, had landed on her, and had decided to take out their aggression on her body. Morgan lurched away from Bex and Ibulba and fell on her knees.

“What was that for?” Sundew asked. She had fully expected to meet the eternal pixie night after that swipe, but the dummy boob had caught her on purpose and for absolutely no trade at all. 

Morgan was a little occupied with being bitten by angry sprites. She gave Sundew a dirty glare, so clear even the pixie knew what had to be done. She gave a whistle and ordered the sprites to go home. “There, are you happy now, Dummy Boob?” She asked. 

Morgan looked around, dazed and bleary eyed. “You know…maybe yeah,” she said dryly. “Come on. I’ve got a real live bad luck goat for you to meet. And a big ol farm she needs to go home to.”

From an alley, a friend was watching. It was not seen. It was not heard. But it was watching. Perhaps it, too, would one day find a companion to romp through the streets and eat with.

While the sprites rammed into Morgan, Nell saw red. With another uttering of her magic, and a tug on the bond that linked her and the witch’s familiar, Taki was blipping into existence at her side, as easily summoned as breathing air after nearly a decade of doing it. “Roast them,” she told Taki, waiting for the fiery inferno of his breath to make barbecue out of the bothersome pint-sized fae. “Morgan, duck!” A swath of flames erupted from the Ovinikk’s mouth before Nell could realize the sprites were retreating on the orders of Sundew— and the stragglers of the pack screeched as they were set ablaze. 

Ibulba closed her amber eyes and concentrated for a moment. She could feel her partner’s mounting anxiety from here. When Ibubla was still a kid,  she’d been presented with a young he-human. He suffered from convulsions and visions, but Ibulba has souldbounded with him nevertheless, discerning that his gentleness and diligence would provide balance to her chaos. Ibulba reached through the bond and found her human partner. 

Ibulba opened her eyes, munching pensively on the apple while nodding for Bex to follow. Several petting zoo goats looked up questioningly, but Ibulba knew she’d done what she could. They must find their own freedom and delicious silky snacks now. She had a hyperventilating partner to attend to. 

Ibulba wove her way unerringly through the stampedes, seeming to navigate through some superior sense of probability. She occasionally checked to see if Bex was following. Eventually she sprinted straight into her caster’s embrace, allowing him to bury his face and mumble inane worried things into her wooly fur.

Relieved, Bex followed Ibulba back to Sai, who grabbed her and hugged her so gratefully, it was as if they’d been parted for years. Or, perhaps, that their distance had pained him. She heard Nell’s familiar voice, too, and looked up from Sai and Ibulba, watching as Taki opened his mouth and let out a roar of flames. Something heavy fell in Bex’s stomach as she heard the anguished cries of the small butterfly critters. Winced and looked away, deciding that keeping her focus on Sai and Ibulba was the best idea. “C’mon, we should maybe get her back to the farm,” she ushered, looking back over her shoulder at Nell and wondering if she noticed her, too. She looked angry. Bex wished she could reach out with her own magic and help calm her down, but that wasn’t within her grasp yet. She patted Ibulba’s head again and smiled at Sai as best she could. “Maybe invest in a leash, too,” she teased.

There was little left of the tiger’s prey as her stomach became overly full. Still, it was so good, so fresh. She would not waste it. And, as the humans’ sounds grew louder, she would not be caught again. No more cages. No more bars. Only fresh, warm prey. She grabbed what was left by its leg and began dragging it off, away from the noise. She would finish it later, after some peace and quiet and freedom.

“T-t-the tiger,” one of the zoo keepers, scrawny and trembling and a voice that was beginning to fail every few words, managed to say. They were a new hire. They’d find their words eventually. Or perhaps lose them. They pointed in the direction of where the tiger had gone, but it was too late to go after her with all the other chaos on the loose. They would have to follow the blood smears and hope it led them to her. After all, how hard would it be to locate a white tiger?

It was all gloved hands on deck as the rest of the zoo keepers, along with some of White Crest’s finest joined together with tranquilizers and began systematically and, for the most part, silently dispatching animals to get them sent back to the zoo. It would be hard work, but it would be done.

While the tiger wandered off, Anara Kingston took inventory of the wreckage that had been done to the front of her bistro, the lemurs that were still flipping the bird to anyone who so much as glanced in their direction, and the actual birds that were fluttering around with teeth that looked a little too human. Hold on. Birds didn’t have teeth, did they? It didn’t matter anymore. With a resigned sigh she turned back towards the sign she’d been so proud to display, sullenly erasing the number on it, changing it to read ‘0 days since last accident.’

[seijuurouxryuu]

zombies ate my neighbour (and turned into mince meat)

Title: zombies ate my neighbour (and turned into mince meat) Author: Shiro (TeitoxAkashi [AO3]/ seijuurouxryuu [tumblr]) Rating: T Pairing: Hibari Kyouya/Sawada Tsunayoshi/Yamamoto Takeshi Event: @khrrarepairweek Prompts: Zombie Apocalypse AU | Accidental Kidnapping Tags/Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning, Major Character Death, No Archive Warning

Day 2: Sky Day

06/05/2943

It was his birthday yesterday, the skylark who took over control of Namimori. He was interesting. His first reaction was not to hoard food, but to start a one-sided slaughter with the undead. He then ordered his men to put up fences around Namimori boarder, closing off the small town. He cleaned up the remains and burnt the undead.

Some, though, he kept caged in his compound.

AO3

13/04/2943

 The sky suddenly turned red. It was not a gradual change, no, the redness came all of the sudden when the sun was still shining brightly. News was all about dooms day and judgement day and blah. Annoying.

 18/04/2943

 The sky remained red. Even when the sun sets, the sky was still red. No one knows why, all the scientists were scrambling to find the reasons and consequences of no night but they failed to discover something huge.

 There were more rotting corpses on the street.

 25/04/2943

 They finally noticed; it wasn't dooms day but close. It was a zombie apocalypse, like those in the movies and fictions. Food and clean water ran low, none of the grass or trees or plants can be eaten because they had mutated. Even the animals were starting to mutate.

 People were dying faster than zombies could kill them.

 How ironic.

 06/05/2943

 It was his birthday yesterday, the skylark who took over control of Namimori. He was interesting. His first reaction was not to hoard food, but to start a one-sided slaughter with the undead. He then ordered his men to put up fences around Namimori boarder, closing off the small town. He cleaned up the remains and burnt the undead.

 Some, though, he kept caged in his compound.

 07/07/2943

 Hibari Kyouya. He finally cleared Namimori of zombies after almost two months. He organized food rationing, set up teams of guards for the boarder and people in charge of raiding food from nearby town. Some outsiders would find their way to the boarders and pled for entry, but Hibari accepted only those who were once from Namimori and young children or old people. The rest that are well and able were barred from entry.

 It wasn't a surprise, honestly. Hibari owned and loved Namimori. He wouldn't let anyone who is not Namimori in and sabotage the peace. He was kind enough still to accept those who cannot sustain themselves in such trying times. "Those herbivores could not even fight against a tiny zombie animal, much less a zombie. I'd rather they not add to the number." He had said.

 I think he was kinder than he let on.

 28/07/2943

 I got accepted into the youth team for zombie virus research. Hibari had established a team of researchers from a group of doctors. Their main task was to make use of the captured zombies Hibari had in his compound to find a cure--either to completely vaccinate everyone from the virus that spreads by bites or scratches from a zombie, or to reverse engineer and turn those zombies back to human. Honestly, the latter sound absurd. Even the adults said so, but Hibari was adamant that they figure out a way.

 A week into the research, none of the doctors or scientists managed to find something; all these old fogies were too scared to approach the zombies even with Hibari watching close, even with them held down. Hibari almost killed them in annoyance instead if not for the fact he still needed their brains. That was why the Youth team was established. Because apparently the younger generations were braver.

 More like they couldn't send those around them as cannon fodders, so they decided to push for kids being the cannon fodders. Cowards, all of them. Fucking cowards.

 Hibari, of course, knew their plan but he allowed the setup of a Youth team anyway. He had said: "Whoever takes the sample can use it on their own or with their team--no sharing of samples outside of the team. You old herbivores may be smart, but if you don't suck it up anytime soon I will deal with your old bones faster than a zombie can."

 In my opinion, that was the hottest shit I've ever heard in my whole life.

 16/08/2943

 The main researchers were all scared shitless by Hibari's threat so they finally took the samples themselves. The Youth team did too. We both use the samples separately, but every day we would gather together with the adults to discuss our findings. I honestly didn't know why Hibari allowed the Youth to participate separately because honestly, the oldest of us is only 24 and had not even graduated from university. None of us were anymore knowledgeable than one another, much less the main team researchers.

 But Irie-senpai said it was because those old fogies were too stuck up in their old ideas that Hibari wanted more innovative brains to speed up the process. He also said with just those old bones, the world would have been annihilated way before they can figure out the cure.

 I guess there were some truths in that.

 Still, there were not much progress. Outside of Namimori, the zombie virus was still spreading. Hunters would go out and capture one or two back for us to check and to our horror, the zombie virus mutates from one person to another. It was practically impossible to find a permanent vaccine.

 But we had to do it.

 Otherwise Hibari would have our heads before the zombies did. That who-shall-not-be-named was an example.

 31/08/2943

 It was my turn to get another sample from Hibari's compound. There were around 20 that was kept, but out of the 20, 4 was permanent, and one of them was separately kept inside the house--the one no one has seen before. Even if the other 3 were rarely used to provide samples, that one particular zombie was never used.

 I was curious and asked Kusakabe, Hibari's right hand, and gotten an answer that confuses me.

 "That's Kyou-san's. No one else can touch."

 I mean, don't all of these zombies technically belong to Hibari?

 I didn't pry further though.

 18/09/2943

 I was collecting samples again when Hibari came back from his trip out of the boarders. He was as usual uninjured despite the blood and gore that stuck to his jacket. What surprised me was that he was carrying an unconscious boy in his arms when he walked into the compound. He was holding him tightly, yet the gentleness in his grip was not unseen. There was a clean blanket around the boy too, bundling him up into a burrito until only his head was seen--brown and fluffy.

 Without even blinking, he gestured at his followers and tilted his head at yet another group of new zombies. "Take those samples today." He said lowly, as though to not wake up the unconscious boy.

 I could only nod mutely as he swiftly turned and walked into the house.

 ... Did Hibari just kidnapped a boy from outside?

 21/09/2943

 We might have a new lead with the new group of zombies Hibari brought back. I can't write much though. Not because of anything but I just don't want to jinx it.

 Still, who was that boy?

 27/09/2943

 As it turned out, the boy--or young man--was not kidnapped. He was originally from Namimori as well and was out of boarders when the apocalypse happened. He had only just managed to find a way to contact Hibari and Hibari went to fetch him. Simple as that.

 Was what he said.

 It didn't look simple to me. Sawada--that guy--told me that he and Hibari used to be from the same school and Hibari had helped him a lot of times. They were friends, he said. I think their relationship is more than that, but with how convinced Sawada was, I didn't tell him my conjecture. Not that I could anyway with how Hibari stared daggers at me when I chatted with Sawada.

 How did I meet him?

 Well, as it turned out, the breakthrough we had the other day was a success, so Irie-senpai brought me and a few others to Hibari. Oh, Irie-senpai was their friends too, apparently, so he wasn't surprised seeing Sawada.

After the discussion and greenlight from Hibari to proceed with the rest of the research, Sawada and Irie-senpai started chatting. Somehow, Irie-senpai introduced me and the other Youth members to him, and somehow, Sawada started chatting with me more.

 I think he was bored with Hibari's constant silence.

 I merely listened though as he and Irie-senpai recounted their past.

 "Look, I didn't plan to go out of Namimori at that time. If it weren't for my uncle's insistence that I go visit him I'd rather stay here and possibly get bitten to death by a zombie." Sawada said. I don't think he was bored with Hibari's silence at all now.

 Irie-senpai laughed. "By a zombie, or him?"

 Sawada flushed red. How interesting...

 "Shut up, Shoichi."

 Hibari looked smug at the back.

 10/10/2944

 It took us more than a year, but we succeeded in creating the cure, much to the main research team's anger. We did share the findings with them, but those stuck-up old cows were adamant that what we did and the direction we were looking at was wrong. Now that we created the solution, they couldn't speak anymore.

 Our next stage was testing; Irie-senpai said we have to try on the old zombies Hibari has, but unfortunately most of them disintegrated a few months before. Those that are still 'alive' were the 4 that Hibari kept properly.

 Hibari did not approve the testing on them and argued a long time with Irie-senpai.

 While they were having a sort of 'shouting' contest in the courtyard--honestly, I think Hibari did not bite Irie-senpai to death solely because he was the leading the research--I was having tea with Sawada.

 Sawada didn't even look exasperated by their argument. Curious, I couldn't help but ask: "Why wouldn't Hibari-san allow us to test on those zombies?"

Sawada was dazed by the question. He suddenly looked down and smiled sadly. "Well.... Those four are our... Friends. Family. We... Well, the thing is, Hibari and I all hope for a cure to return them back to normal. They didn't exactly die, you know? They were bitten while alive, which suggest that they are still alive. We can feel that they're alive too, in fact, which is why... Hibari and I are waiting for the day to see them come back. Especially..." His eyes dimmed as he peered over to one particular zombie--the one Hibari kept carefully the most.

 He quickly shook his head and continued, "I think Shoichi don't even want to test on them, but he had no choice because the newest batch of zombies might have yet another mutation that renders the whole thing useless. Only with the old batch he could tell whether we're all on the exact right track... But none of us wanted to test on them when everything is so uncertain now, especially during the preliminary testing where we don't even know the side effects..."

 I seemed to have pieced something together.

 I said nothing and quietly nodded.

 23/02/2945

 As it turned out, mutation rendered the whole thing unsuccessful, yes. But from the old zombies--not Hibari's four--we somehow managed to find, we were all on the right track. But now, we have to tackle the mutation and make a protein that can target the unchanging amino acids of made from the virus. It's all complicated stuff; I'd probably write a whole book about it if I do so I'll spare you, and my hands, from the details.

 Interestingly, Sawada liked to chat with me whenever I go to Hibari's place for either more samples or discussion with Irie-senpai. I don't know why, maybe because I looked approachable? Who knows? Anyways, from him, I finally got to know who exactly the four zombies were.

 The smallest zombie was Chrome Dokuro, Sawada's adopted sister when she was abandoned by her parents from a car accident. She died in the hospital when the zombie outbreak happened, and Sawada was actually relieved that she turned into a zombie at that time because she was going to die soon from multiple organ failures. He said that once she was cured from the virus, he was going to transplant all the organs he found for her--that was the reason why he left Namimori back then to find his uncle. I suspected that he has connection with the Yakuza or black market, but that was beside the point.

 The next one was Sasagawa Ryohei. I knew him too--the brother of Sasagawa Kyouko. She is alive of course, just working in the food rationing team (She and Miura Haru were very scary if you jump queue during food distribution). Apparently, she was Sawada's schoolmate as well, and friend. The more you know. Anyways, Sasagawa Ryohei was Hibari's classmate at one point, and he had taught Sawada boxing once. They became friends after even though Sawada failed terribly at boxing--what he said.

 The third one was Gokudera Hayato. He was actually not from Namimori, but he was Sawada's childhood friend. He was a half-Italian who lived in Italy. He had transferred to Namimori Middle School years back because he was fed up with his family (TMI much, Sawada?) and wanted to be closer to Sawada, so he came with Sawada's uncle, who was by the name of Reborn. (I've met him ONE (1) time and I would NOT want to again.) He was bitten by a zombie when he was trying to protect Sawada's adoptive brother and sister (just how many siblings does Sawada have?) and got turned. Hibari brought him back before he bit anyone else and locked him up along with Sasagawa and Chrome.

 The last one, and probably the most cherished by Hibari (Sawada cherished all four of them but even I could tell he was saddest when facing this one), was Yamamoto Takeshi. I was surprised, because he was our resident baseball star. Before the apocalypse happened, he was the talk of the town because he was offered into the national baseball team. Sawada said Yamamoto was his childhood friend as well--and apparently Hibari's too--and he was bitten by his father Yamamoto Tsuyoshi, who changed while trying to protect him. Tsuyoshi-san unfortunately was killed and burned by a stranger who tried to help Yamamoto, who did not want to attack his father.

 Hibari had almost killed that stranger for burning Tsuyoshi-san if it were not for the fact the stranger had tried to save Yamamoto. But still, Yamamoto was bitten and had turned into a zombie. All Hibari could do was bring him back and cage him up just like how he did with the other three.

 Sawada looked very sorrowful when he retold everything.

 All I could do is pat his shoulders and console him that the research teams are trying our very best to help.

 And I am, trying my very best. I want to see them smile, honestly.

 16/01/2947

 Sorry, I hadn't had any time to write. It has been... 2 years, huh, since my last entry. I was far too busy--everyone was.

 The sky had darkened further in red, the rain started coming down red, even the sun and moon turned red. Everyone could tell that the zombie apocalypse is worsening. Us research teams were even more aware.

 After we found the cure, we immediately started tackling all and every mutation. We finally pinpointed a particular protein made by the virus RNA that is present in every mutation; it was the protein that changed the structure of a human's cells into 'undead' dead cells. It's like, some microorganisms can't survive in very cold temperature and would lay dormant but once the temperature rises it would wake up and start working.

 Those 'undead' dead cells are the same. In this zombie stage, they are like those frozen microorganisms. Irie-senpai said if we can kill or render the protein unusable, we might be able to revert those cells back to living cells. The zombies can then be reverted back to humans.

 First ten testing did not work. The eleventh test, the zombie's cells turned to normal cells but it remained in coma. The twentieth test, the zombie woke up as human once again.

 After two hundred tests and a year of observation, we finally confirmed that it is successful.

 The first person who received the cure serum was Yamamoto Takeshi.

 He woke up 10 days after the jab and I saw Hibari cry silently at the side while Sawada grabbed Yamamoto sobbing.

 They both smiled.

 05/05/2950

 We spread our findings and information worldwide--now no one is killing zombies but capturing them to be taken back to the lab for revival. In another 2 years’ time, I doubt there'll be anymore two legged zombies.

 The sky was still red, everything was still red, but the progression of the redness seemed to have stopped three years ago. It was good news. Now, everyone is targeting how to reverse engineer the mutations of nature. It was the hardest part, but it was alright, I believe that we can manage it.

 After all, did we not succeeded in bringing back humanity?

 Cough. Let's not talk about this.

 It's Hibari's birthday. He had wanted a quiet birthday with Yamamoto and Sawada, apparently, but both of them wouldn't let him have it and organized a party with everyone they know. They even invited me under the reason that I've helped them so much all these years. I wonder if they truly thought so, and not because they wanted someone sane to watch over them?

 So, it was a party. A wild one. One that would end with Hibari biting everyone to death, but he didn't. I guess he missed the chaos during the silence he lived in when the apocalypse started. He tolerated all of us.

 The highlight of the party was probably this:

 Yamamoto actually proposed to the both of them. Sawada broke down crying while Hibari.exe actually broke. Hibari had frozen in spot for so long everyone suspected his soul had ran away. Until, of course, Yamamoto pulled him into a long kiss that ended up being a three way make-out with everyone whistling and jeering.

 "Get a room!" I seconded that notion, Gokudera.

 They didn't actually get a room of course; the party must go on with the protagonists. But it was a great party. Everyone was so happy.

 I feel so happy for them.

 Well, I'm very tired now after hauling all the drunks back home, so I'm going to pen off. I'm not sure when I'll write again, but yeah, see you soon.

 Signing off,

S.

-----------------------------------------

A/N:  A SPECIAL THANKS TO KHR RAREPAIR DISCORD PEEPS FOR THE TITLE thenkew morcai senpai :3 <3

Hehehehhehehhe I loved writing this day entry the most. Maybe because its easier for me to write??

I'm finally free from the clutches of studying!!!!!!!!!!! Can finally post and write stuffs hngh.

Hope yall had fun with reading this!

[I apologize for any grammar, spelling, etc. etc. mistakes]

[cargopantsman]

Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here

Trigger warnings: All of them, because I am lazy. Also none of this is sensical.

Utter, hyper-caffeinated brain noise.

The problem with the concept of a "sense of self" is it already tries to concretize an amorphous abstract. It makes us want to point at some thing and say "Well... that's me." Whether it is a set of ideals that we try to live by, a set of activities that brings us a sense of joy or fulfillment, or, gods forbid, and entirely different and other person that "completes us."

I've always had an affinity for trickster figures and shapeshifters. The wearers of masks, the truthful liars, the artisans of duality, yada, yada. Since I was a child my first instinct has always been to blend in. If into the background, great, but if need be, if I needed to blend into the social fabric around me, I could do that too. To throw this into the high school backdrop; I wasn't a social butterfly, I was shy as could be, but I got along with the jocks, the goths, the nerds, the art freaks, the band kids, the preps, the whatever. Where ever I was I could fake that I belonged there. I was comfortable drifting in between worlds. (Looking back, I could have caused a lot more chaos with the information I was privy to at the time...[Oh, there's a constant point. I'm good at keeping secrets, keeping confidence. I'll lie my ass off to keep a secret.]) Does any of that really help drive a sense of self though? When your natural instinct is to mirror, to blend, to fade? When your point of pride is walking into a room unnoticed and, even better, leaving a party unseen? Does being a ghost count as an identity?

"Expression of Will" comes to mind... what does that mean? Ok, so some abstract thing is inside of you and you manifest it objectly outwardly. I was an artist. I made images in my head and "kind of" manifest them on paper. Some times people see that paper...  I was a writer... images in my head "became" words and some people saw that. I combined them into comics. Some people Saw that. Is that a lasting affect? Maybe the fights I've been into?! That time in 2nd grade someone was picking on a friend and I laid them out... the time in 8th grade someone was picking on me and clocked them down. Or in high school when someone decided to start some rumors and I held them up by their throat in the air until they turned blue? That was an inward thing that manifested outwardly. Nevermind good or bad, but was any of that... me?

Hmm. The beast. The primal... come back to that later.

"Expression of Will," "Expression of Will," "Expression of Will" ... What the fuck even is "Will"? Is this why philosophers get their heads so far up their ass? Is it a desire? The will to live.... living requires eating and the amount of times I forget to even do that... Maybe been looking at the phrase all wrong...

Will to Live (noun) It isn't a thing.

Will (verb) to (preposition) Live (verb)

Why does that sound better?

Desire to Live (noun)

Desire (verb) to (preposition) Live (verb)

Okay, that feels better even, but still... Sense of self, will, desire, expressions thereof. Are these just the aimless desires and wills? The fleeting flights of frivolous fancies festering forlornly in frontal cortices?

The self with the will can direct the desires towards living. "Get in the fucking robot Shinji!" "I don't wanna"

The (ghost) with the (strength) can direct the (impulses) towards (being). Getting too close to a concept of a soul on that one huh?

Forget self. It's a useless moniker right now. There is no self. It's just this mind alone for the first time in its entire life. (Not alone alone, there are friends, but they've learned more about me in the past two weeks than the past 6 years so...) "What did they learn?" asked the projection of self that defines itself by interactions with other.

I thought we were forgetting self.... not an option really. Sentience is a bitch like that. But they've learned I'll put up with a lot of bullshit under the guise of strength and integrity when I should've callously called this whole thing ages ago. That I can shut myself down completely in the interest of bodily-self preservation. (Not Self-self preservation, fuck the English language). What did I sacrifice? What did I shut down?

Everything.

That is less than helpful.

The Beast. Vince. Your Shadow.

My Shadow...

What do you desire?

Blood in the cut, tears in their eyes, power over someone that wants that power over them...

Do you want that? I don't want it, I just need it. No... I want it.

Is that all you are? A sadist? An animal?

Maybe... probably not though. A caretaker, and a sparring partner. A trickster and a shapeshifter. A crafter whose tools are destruction.

Next problem, grandeur. Mythologizing everything. But how to see a thing if you don't blow it up/magnify it?

You lack a sense of self because no one ever tested your sense of self. No one actually fought you for who you are. To find out who you are. The ex didn't. An old friend did until she got scared by what she found there.

You don't want to be yourself because it's not nice is it? You were raised to be nice.

College. I controlled the group. Never hit anyone after high school aside from set matches in classes or sparring for funsies. They all saw my eyes and stopped if they were getting out of hand.

The Dom-Friend.

Don't use the d-word on me.

Destroyer? Yeah, that one's fine. That one fits. He says as he carelessly tosses lit matches around his entire life. Can we bring up the phoenix or is that too grandiose? Why shouldn't it be grandiose? We spend every day of our lives going through the same kind of tedious bullshit all the time why not make our inner lives a bit bigger, a bit richer?

A bit darker.

Why do you want them to bleed? Hurt and comfort. That's a big theme, a trope if you will. Why not have both at the same? Why not let her think that I'm about to kill her but let her rest in the trust that I won't? Why not let me think that I'm about to break her while believing she is the most precious thing in the world?

Caretaker. A caretaker kills all the time. Tearing out weeds, uprooting the prized plant to move it to a better place for its growth.

Growth.

The self isn't going to be found just in ones self... not in another either. No, the self has to be found in everything. The things one wants to run to and run from. The soul (oops) is formed by what it crashes into right? The mind recoils from traumas races towards panaceas, why not, if one can, flip the polarity on the two. Bring the darkness screaming into the light so you can see it, bring the light quivering into the darkness so it can loose its terrifying brillance. Balance in all things right?

You're not a very positive person, they say. No... I'm not. It lashes out in bad ways sometimes, sure. Control, control, you must learn control. But being negative isn't bad. Not if you can grow from it. No plant can survive the sun for 24 hours. Trees sleep in the winter. We sleep, we heal, we grow.

Self-Destruction!! That's a fun one... seven fucking months downing a bottle of whisky a night. Whooo boy. Do Not Recommend.

Got a nice stay in the underworld though and trudged up a lot of shit. Now I'm sitting here with my ears ringing because I finally hit the personal limit on Monsters and my brain is overclocked enough I can finally see shit at 4 angles at the same time. I am a god damned quantum supercomputer of emotions right now.

Faith and faithlessness are the same thing. Have faith, trust the future, don't expect anything, don't plan your now for your future. Sounds sadly like live in the moment type bullshit, but life is weird and people are complex. Shifting drifting clueless animals that want to be safe but don't want to get stuck in anothers arms even when there is one whose arms are so safe.

The damage runs deep... and two people with damage running that deep. Hmm. How much healing can falling do? The other just puts a bandage over a puncture wound and both try to ignore it, but then the blood gets pumping, the heart pounds and poisons surge to the surface. It's neither one's fault really. Life is a trial of knives and we don't always have time or concern to tend the wounds properly. There's always something else that needs to be taken care of first.

Divorce is a helluva drug. It is maddening, the freedom to finally to be yourself is line having the lineart stripped off, there is a terrifying infinity in front of you and the only thing to do for awhile is melt. Let the slings and arrows just pierce and sink in. Anyone else tries to push the sludge of you into a shape might get hurt when they find the arrows. I want to go absolutely feral in a way. In a way the whole COVID mess is keeping me under lock and key so I'm just prowling around the empty house like I always have been, but now there's some sense... of purpose.

I'm raging against any depression, the executive dysfunction is going to have a talking to. The sense of self is going to be found in stripping this house down to bare walls and making a blank canvas. Bring everything down, ruin it all, start again.

My self is emptiness, it always has been. I can be anything, but I should be wary of ever wanting to be something. (My career options are AWESOME). But this is a different emptiness than before. Before I pulled the trigger and splattered the brains of the marriage across the floor I was just a void, and inky black pit of nothingness. Somehow, having the Shadow rise up and finally start getting along with the rest of me, the emptiness isn't.... void. It's just nascent possibility and that shouldn't scare me.

It does, of course, terrify me. First time in 40 years being legitimately alone is terrifying, should have done this kinda thing when I was 20, but... I was an idiot back then (60 year old me laughs from the future). But I think I can get a grip on the concept that "I" don't exist, but I'm real... ever changing ever dynamic, not who I was while I was married, but a mix of the me before, a angry beast now, and something yet unseen in the future.

[americancowgirl19]

She’s the Alpha - Part One

Series Summary: Gen and Y/n have been together since they were in high school. They’re true mates. Only problem is that they’re both female and are unable to satisfy the other’s heat/rut. When Gen gets a job on Supernatural they meet Alpha Jensen and his Omega Jared.

Part Summary: By the time you turned 18 you have gone through two life changing events. The first being when you presented as an alpha. The second is when you found your omega.

Warnings: Y/n treated like an OC, cursing, bullying/harassment, homophobia, angst, fluff, abuse, hint at smut/intimacy, light girl on girl,

Reader: Alpha Female Reader

Pairings: Alpha Female Reader x Omega Genevieve, Eventual Alpha Jensen x Omega Jared x Alpha Female Reader x Omega Genevieve

Word Count: 5,662

A/n: Jensen and Jared won’t show up until the next part. This chapter is character background and a lot of Gen x Reader. Possibly a 15 part series!

Masterlist

Part Two

Presenting

The weeks prior to presenting were tense to say the least. You felt as if everyone was testing your patience, especially your twin brother, Ashton. You withdrew from your friends and family. The last thing you wanted was to get into screaming matches with your parents like Ash had been doing.

Despite the obvious signs, nobody expected you to present as an alpha. Female alphas are much rarer than male omegas. Although, presenting as an omega didn’t seem likely either. You were stronger willed than the omegas your family interacted with. Becoming a beta is what was expected of you. Albeit, doing what was expected of you was never really your thing.

Frankly, you would rather be a beta than an alpha. Your family held alpha’s to a higher standard compared to beta’s and omega’s. A standard you didn’t care to be held to. To be honest, your family was ridiculous when it came to alphas.

However, all thoughts of an easy going beta life flew out the window on your 16th birthday. Finally, the moodiness and the short fuse you had recently acquired made sense. 

To say that this complicated things is an understatement. Presenting as an alpha completely changed your world. One day you were the girl who remained unseen in the background. Now, you’re the girl trying to survive your alpha father and alpha brother. Three alpha’s under one roof is recipe for disaster.

Senior Year

“I cannot wait until I can pack up and leave this place in my rear view mirror,” Ash grumbles walking beside you down the road. The further the two of you walked from home the less weight seemed to be on your shoulders.

“You need a car to have a rear view mirror,” You tease him while keeping a watchful eye on your younger siblings a little ways in front of you. Ash rolls his eyes and shoves his hands in his pockets. “All I want is to get out of that damn house. I don’t care where I go,” You comment with a small shrug.

It didn’t matter if you moved into the house next door or in an apartment on the other side of the world. As long as you weren’t under your parents roof, you would be happy. You craved independence. You craved separation from your parents. Yet you didn’t want to be too far from your siblings but at the same time you didn’t mind putting more distance between you and them.

“I’m not going to be able to listen to dad’s bullshit for very much longer,” You hum in agreement. You remember a time when your dad had been your hero. Now, you couldn’t wait to get as far as possible from the man.

Your father made it his mission to make you and your brother the toughest alpha’s in town not only mentally but physically as well. He’s even tried to make you both arrogant assholes, like typical alpha’s, with all his ‘alpha’s are above others’ speeches. 

There was also a point in time when your father had tried to pin you and your brother against each other. You hated to admit that it worked for almost an entire year before the two of you figured out that you were stronger when you had each others backs.

“We just have to make it through graduation,” You tell him.

“Yeah,” Ash scoffs. “Another ten damn months,”

“No one said it was gonna be easy,” 

A couple minutes later you were at the school. Your two younger siblings had dashed off but you didn’t care. You made sure they got to school, your job was over.

The moment you entered the high school you sensed something was different. You didn’t know what it was and tried to ignore the feeling but it was damn near impossible.

You caught yourself looking around as you and Ash walked to your lockers. You didn’t know what you were looking for but assumed you would know when, or if, you found it.

“Do you know if anyone presented alpha recently?” You ask your brother.

“God, I hope not,” Ash groans closing the door. “The last thing we need is another damn alpha walking around,”

There’s three other alphas in your school, excluding you and your brother. One of the alpha’s, Julian, is chill and keeps to himself. The other two, however, are always competing for top dog. The last thing this school needed was yet another alpha to add into the mix.

“Why do you ask?” Ash asks, the two of you walking to your first class.

“I don’t know,” You sigh. “I just feel like something’s different,” Ash glances at you but doesn’t say anything.

All throughout the day you felt on edge. Ash could pick up on your tenseness causing his own mood to turn more alert. It wasn’t until the end of the day did you find the answer to why the both of you were so apprehensive.

You and Ash were at your lockers preparing to leave school. Ash was suggesting that you went to The Dutch, a local bar and grill. It had been a long and tense day, the last thing he wanted to do was go straight home where the environment is even more stressful.

You muttered a response not really listening to what he was saying. Ash talked 90% of the day, whether you were in class or not, and you had learned to tune him out. Instead of paying attention to Ash, your eyes were trained down the hall. In the corner stands a shorter girl with beautiful, long, dark hair. She had your complete attention from the moment you laid eyes on her.

Unfortunately, you weren’t the only one with eyes on her. Andrew, one of the schools asshole alpha’s, had her in his sights. The moment he came into your eye sight you knew what he was planning. The thought of him even standing next to her angered you.

“Y/n, where are you going?” Ashton questions when you suddenly walk away. You don’t answer him. He grumbles but quickly follows after you. It wasn’t until you got closer to the girl did you realize that she’s an omega.

“I’m not interested,” She tells Andrew. You ignore the affect that her voice has on you.

“Not yet but I can change your mind,”

“What is it with you morons and not understanding the meaning of the word ‘no’?” You ask, gaining Andrew’s attention. He turns toward you. His eyes flicker from you to Ashton, who’s standing behind you. “No, means, no, asshole,” Andrew glares at you trying to be intimidating. However, you weren’t intimidated by boys trying to be men.

“Why don’t you just move along?” Andrew suggests, wanting to continue talking to the omega but also wanting to avoid you and Ash. “I’m trying to have a conversation with her,”

“You’re not exactly conversation material,” The girl speaks up. Your gaze, along with Andrew’s, returned to the smaller girl. She spoke to Andrew before her eyes flickered to you. The moment your eyes met, a small small comes to your lips. “The last thing I want to do is lose IQ points,” She comments, looking back at Andrew. She adjusts her bookbag on her shoulders and tries to talk around him but he quickly grabs her arm. The smile that had come to your face quickly washed away when you saw Andrew grab her as roughly as he had.

His hand only held her arm for a fraction of a second before you had removed it. Your hand grabbed his wrist tight enough to leave a nasty bruise. You twisted his arm until he was forced to release her and slammed him against the lockers. 

Andrew easily got out of your grip but before things could escalate Ashton jumps between the two of you. Ash knew you could handle yourself against Andrew but he also didn’t want a fight breaking out. A fight would send you to the principle which would force your father to get involved which would end in a situation neither of you wanted to be in.

“Just walk away,” Ashton advices Andrew. “We wouldn’t want a repeat of Junior year, would we?” Andrew growls stepping forward but a teacher speaks up before anything could happen.

“Life would have been much simpler if I had just been a beta,” The girl whispers under her breath. You hummed in agreement. Your eyes glancing to her when you’re confident Andrew wasn’t going to attack your brother. “Thanks,” She says, looking up at you.

“You look like you could handle yourself,” You tell her with a small smile. She blushes a bit which causes your heart to soar. The longer you stood beside her the less confident you became. Not many people made you nervous but this girl could make you weak to the knees with a single glance.

“Genevieve,” She introduces herself. She holds her hand out and you stare at it for a moment. Ash gives you a gently shove which snaps you out of your haze. Gen giggles a bit when you hand reaches out and grips her tightly. “But you can call me Gen,” She giggles again when you shake her hand quickly.

“Gen,” You whisper, smiling softly. “Oh, uh, Y/n,” You stutter while releasing her hand with a blush. “That’s uh... that’s my name,” You hand brushes through your hair.

“I figured,” Gen continues to smile at you. “It’s nice to meet you,”

Date Night

“How does this look?” You ask, your younger sister. 

“Like you’re trying too hard,” Naomi comments, hanging upside down on the edge of your bed.

“Really? I think I look cute,” You say standing in front of you full length mirror. You were wearing a nice dress. It’s the most feminine thing you’ve worn in a long time.

“You’re only going to the movies,” She tells you. “Besides, it doesn’t really look like you. You should wear some leggings and that cute jacket you got last month,”

“I’m with Naomi on this,” Ash says, walking into your room. You sigh but give in knowing they were more corradiated than you.

“If he coming to pick you up?” Naomi asks shifting onto her stomach when Ash sits beside her. You share a look with your twin.

“Uh, no,” You shake your head. “I’m meeting them at the movies,” You say carefully.

Ash is the only one that knows you were going on a date with a girl. On top of that it’s an omega that had asked you out. You could only imagine the shit show that would happen if your father found out. He would go on and on about how you needed to be with a man. Once he got past that he would tell you how un-alpha-like it is to be asked out by an omega. You, being the alpha, were the one who was supposed to ask the omega out.

You knew your younger siblings wouldn’t care but they also couldn’t keep a secret. The only concern your mother would have is the fact that she wouldn’t be able to satisfy your ruts and you wouldn’t be able to satisfy her heats. It wouldn’t be a problem now, or any time soon, but down the road you would need someone to help you. 

You didn’t ant to think about that right now. You just want to have fun with Gen. You liked her a lot. You could run your hands through her soft hair all day. She smelled as if she had come straight from heaven. Her skin also felt very smooth and perfect against yours. 

From the moment you two met you had grown to be very close. You would stay close during school and after school you would be together at her home. Her family was much more relaxed and open than yours.

The two of you had been cuddling in her bed while watching your favorite movie when she asked you out on a date. It had caught you off guard but you accepted.

Almost everything Gen did caught you off guard, in a good way. She was so unlike any omega you had met. She was outgoing and blunt. She could hold her own and didn’t need an alpha to cling too. She didn’t need you but she wanted you. You tended to be on the more reserved side but being around Gen brought you out more.

“What movie are you seeing?” Naomi asked. You answered all her questions as you finished getting ready. Ash picked out your shoes while Naomi helped with your makeup. You didn’t wear much makeup but a little bit to stand out.

“Good luck,” Ash says, helping you leave without being noticed by your parents. Your parents knew you were leaving but you didn’t want to go through 20 questions with them.

“Thank,” You smile at him before getting into your moms car and driving to the movies. You instantly found Gen. It was like there was this magnet on her that drew you to her. “You look amazing,” You compliment. She wasn’t wearing anything too fancy but it hugged her hips.

“Thank you,” She says before inspecting your new jacket. You did a spin causing her to grin even wider. “Adorable,” She says kissing your cheek causing you to blush. She links your arms and pulls you to the ticket booth with a little hop in her step. There you insisted, and won, on buying the ticket. She ended up buying the popcorn before the two of you took your seats.

Throughout the movie the both of you shared small, yet intimate, touches. You would hold hands or rest your hand on her thigh. Eventually you wrapped an arm around her. The touches only got worse when the movie was over and you drove her home. Her mother had dropped her off allowing you the opportunity to spend more time with her.

“Hey, Y/n?” Gen asks, glancing at you as you drive down the road. You hum sparing her a glance. “What happened junior year?” She asks.

“Can you be a little more specific?” You ask, with a small laugh. “Junior year was a long year,”

“Ash said something to Andrew about not wanting a repeat of Junior year... Remember?” Gen asks, your mind goes back to when you first noticed Gen. Gen and you have been in the same school for years but you didn’t truly notice her until she presented. When she did present she ended up being an omega. There’s only 7 omega’s in the school and of course she had caught Andrew’s attention.

“Junior year Ash, Andrew, and I were still pretty new at the whole alpha thing. We’re still not perfect but junior year our emotions and instincts were all over the place. At that time Ash and I weren’t talking. We were fighting constantly and it just wasn’t a good time for us.” You begin to explain to her. “Being an alpha our natural instinct is to be the alpha. It’s an instinct my father did everything he could to amplify,”

“Why?” Gen asks frowning her eyebrows. You let out a low sigh.

“My father expects Ash and I to be the top alpha in everything we do. One of the problems with that is that feeding into our newly heightened instincts with other alpha’s under the same roof only causes disruption and chaos. The three of us were constantly at each others throats and when we went to school Ash and I were still going at it but we were also going at Andrew as well,” Gen slowly nods not completely understanding but wanting to hear the rest of it. “One day Andrew and I came to blows. I think we were fighting over something like he had sat in my seat at the cafeteria.” You said not completely sure if that was true but it was close enough. “Anyways, Andrew is stronger and a better fighter, I didn’t really have a chance but I gave it my all. Ash saw what was happening and he jumped into the fight. The two of us could just tell what the other was about to do and we worked together fluently. Kicked Andrew’s ass,” You smirk a bit. “We not only asserted our dominance as head alpha’s in the high school but it’s the first time Ash and I started to mend our relationship and work together,”

“So, now you and Ash are ok?” Gen asks. “You two seem to get along great,”

“Yeah, it took us a while to get to where we are now but now it’s just natural,” You shrug. “It’s like I have this sixth sense when it comes to Ash and him to me. Sure we have our competitive streaks but it’s all good natured,” Gen smiles at you and you glance at her. “Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?” You ask.

“Maybe once or twice,” Gen smiles widely. You smirk pulling into her driveway.

“I had a really great-” You said, turning your head towards her. The instant you looked at her, her lips were on yours. The two of you had yet to get out of the car and had to lean over the middle console. 

Her lips were soft compared to your chapped ones. Her sweet scent seemed even more intense while kissing her. You wondered how she could get any more perfect. 

“I had a great time too,” Gen whispers pulling back. “And you look just as beautiful,” She winks at you.

You didn’t care what you had to do, you had to keep her. You’d known her a little less than four months yet you were completely smitten. You were in this for the long haul.

Caught

“Hi Gen!” Naomi shouts, when you and Gen enter the house. Gen barely greets her back before your little sister darts into the next room.

“Omi! Get back here, you little shit!” You other little sister, Haley, practically screams as she races after the youngest.

“Come on,” You place an innocent hand on Gen’s back. You gently push her towards your room. The two of you have been together for a couple of months and have successfully kept it from your parents and younger siblings. Honestly, if Naomi wasn’t so gullible, you would have been found out by now.

“Are your parents home?” Gen asks, you shake your head.

“No, probably won’t be for a while,” You tell her. You shut the bedroom door behind you.

“Good,” Gen smiles turning to you. You match her grin and pull her close. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you,” 

“No ones stopping you,” You whisper leaning down to connect your lips to hers. Gen cups the back of your neck and presses her hand against you chest as she leans into you. You tighten your grip around her waist. “You smell so good,” You whisper burying your head in her neck.

“Come on, we have to get started on this project,” Gen reminds you. You whine refusing to let her go. Gen laughs quietly and doesn’t attempt to leave your snug embrace.

“We can start tomorrow,” You whisper.

“Oh, no, we’re not procrastinating on this,” Gen says wiggling away from you causing you to pout. “Let’s get this started and then we can cuddle,”

“You drive a hard bargain,” You wink at her. Gen rolls her eyes and sits on your bed. You smirk and move in behind her. “Are you sure we can’t start a little later?” You ask, brushing all of her hair to one side. “Surely, we’re smart enough to get it done in a little bit,” Gen tilts her head a bit as your lips lightly press against her skin. “You’re certainly smart enough. You’re a junior in a senior science class,”

“It’s not that impressive,” Gen whispers. “There’s plenty of juniors in senior classes,”

“I’m lucky to be in the 12th grade, it’s impressive,” You tell her. “You’re so smart,” You praise. “So beautiful, kind and funny.. So talented,” Your lips travel up her neck as you hand gently grabs her chin. “So mine,” 

“Alpha,” Gen whines causing you to growl and press your lips to hers. She falls back on the bed and you shift follow after her. Your entire focus was on her that you didn’t even notice your father coming to your room to talk to you.

“Y/n-” He barely gets your name out when he opens your door. Your head pulls away from Gen’s quickly and snaps towards him. Both you and Gen tense. You father looks at you in shock but the shock quickly turns into anger. “What in the damn hell is going on here?!” He shouts. 

You and Gen jump off the bed. Your protective instincts kick in and you stand in front of her. She grips the back of your shirt. Her distress only amplifies your protectiveness. 

“I can explain-” You try to say but your father isn’t in a listening mood. You watch as his face begins to glow red and his eyes narrow.

“The fuck were you doing with her?!” Cyrus, your father, shouts. You knew that if you tried to lie it would only be worse. You had to come clean.

“I was kissing her... my girlfriend,” You add, quietly. A deep, threatening growl leaves his chest. Your hand reaches back to rest against Gen. The movement was not only to reassure you that she was behind you but an attempt to calm you down. Gen always had a calming affect on you but with your father radiating threatening vibes being calm is the last thing on your mind.

“Girlfriend?!” He shouts marching up to you. You growl back trying to warn him to stay back.

“Yes, girlfriend!” You shout back not liking being threatened. “She’s my girlfriend, my omega!”

“She’s a girl! She cannot be your omega!”

“She is,” You tell him clenching your fists. “I know she’s my omega, my true mate.” You state with absolute certainty. You knew that same sex true mates aren’t nonexistent but they certainly weren’t heard of.

“A female alpha is never mated to an omega female! It doesn’t work!” 

“It does. We work.” You insist. “She’s my girlfriend and I’m not letting her go,”

“Oh, yes you are. No daughter of mine will ever be with another girl! You’re an alpha, you need to be with a beta or male omega.”

At this point your family is gathering in the doorway. Your two little sisters were poking their heads in but mainly hiding behind the wall in the hallway. Your father took intimidation and scary to a whole new level when he’s angry. Even your mother was using the wall as a hiding spot. Your brother, however, was standing in the center of the doorway ready to help defend you and Gen if need be.

“Fuck who you think I’m supposed to be with,” You spit. “I want to be with Gen and she wants to be with me,” You growled. “And I’m not going to let you get in between us,”

“Y/n!” Gen shouts when your father grabs you shirt, rips you away from Gen and pins you against the wall. You growl slamming your head into his and manage to shove him away. He doesn’t go far but far enough for you to duck away and move from the wall.

“Alright, let’s just calm down!” Ash shouts getting between you and your father.

“Step down,” Cyrus, demands staring you twin brother down. Ash glares back fighting against the urge to move away. “I said, step down,” Cyrus snapped grabbing the back of Ash’s neck and tossing him to the side.

“Hey!” You shout shoving him away from your brother. 

However, tossing him from Ash made Cyrus get closer to Gen which you didn’t like. You held your hand out and Gen instantly comes to your side. Her fingers intertwine with yours. Her arm hugs your arm while she steps a bit behind you.

“I love Gen,” You tell him as he regains his stability. “I’m going to stay with her for as long as she’ll have me. There’s nothing you can do,” 

Cyrus steps toward you and lashes out. Gen whimpers holding you tightly as a stinging pain comes to your cheek. Before he could do anything else Gen is moving in front of you. She’s trembling despite the strong look she tries to display. Your heart swells at her trying to protect you but you didn’t want your father hurting her either.

“I won’t let you hurt her,” Gen whispers, pressing her back into your chest wanting to stay as far away from him but wanting to protect you as well. Cyrus is obviously taken back by Gen. Omega’s aren’t normally the ones protecting the alpha. In his eyes it’s just another disgraceful act while it only makes you fall more in love with her.

“You either get rid of Gen or you leave,” He tells you. Your heart drops. You knew he would be made but you never expected him to give you this ultimatum. You didn’t want to make the choice despite already know what you would choose.

“Dad, please,” You whisper moving back in front of Gen. “I love her and I love this family, please don’t make me choose,” You beg him. “I’m still your daughter, loving Gen doesn’t change that,”

“This is not how I raised you. This is not how an alpha is supposed to act.” Cyrus tells you. “This is unacceptable and I will not have you disgracing this family. Get rid of Gen or move out,” Cyrus says. He stands there for a moment before pushing past you and into the hall.

“Baby,” Gen whispers, moving in front of you. Your zoned out eyes focus on her. “I don’t want to get in between you and your family-”

“You are my family,” You whisper. “You’re my omega, I know you are,” You say confidently. “Am I your alpha?” You ask, trepidatiously. 

“Yes, you are,” Gen nods, caressing your cheek. Her eyes soften as she looks at your reddened cheek. “I just want you to be happy... I don’t want to take you from them,” She nods towards your brother, sisters and mother.

“I’ll talk to him, ok?” Molly, your mother, speaks up, coming up to you. You stare into Gen’s eyes for a moment before turning to her. “You are not disowned and you do not have to leave Gen,” Molly gives your girlfriend a smile.

“I don’t think I can stay here mom,” You tell her. “Even if you do talk him down, things are only going to keep getting worse. Him and Ash are already to a boiling point, this is only going to push all of us over the edge. I’m not staying,”

“I don’t know how I’m going to be able to stay either,” Ash growls.

“There’s only a couple more months, just avoid him,” You advice him.

“Easier said than done,” Ash grumbles still seething at the fact that Cyrus had attacked you, again.

“I’ll keep him from you, just don’t leave yet,” Molly pleads hating the fact that her mate is chasing her children away. Ash’s face softens slightly towards his mother. He sighs but nods agreeing to stay just a little longer for her sake. “Where will you go?” Molly asks, wanting to make sure you went somewhere safe.

“She can come with me,” Gen says. You open your mouth to object but she doesn’t let you. “My mother adores you, so do my siblings. They’d love to have you around,” Knowing you needed somewhere to go, you agree.

“I love you,” Molly whispers, hugging you when you made your decision. “I’ll talk to your father, you and Gen are always welcome here,” She promises.

Claiming

“Happy birthday, baby,” Gen whispers waking you up with her light kisses. You smile snuggling into her chest. She grins holding your larger figure the best she could.

“Skip school,” You mumble. “Spend the day with me,” Gen smiles kissing the top of your head.

You and Gen have been together for over a year. You’ve graduated high school while Gen is halfway through her senior year. The two of you lived in Gen’s mother’s home. You’ve lived there since your father kicked you out.

Your mother stayed true to her word and talked to him. It took him months to even talk to you and even longer to invite you back. You never accepted his offer. The two of you had a very tense relationship and you didn’t want to go back to living under his roof with his rules.

The second you and Ash graduated, Ash moved out. He moved out of the house and out of the state. You still talk daily but you hadn’t seen him in a little bit. However, you felt happy knowing that he’s happy and much more relaxed.

While you would rather move out of this small town you were happy to be with Gen. Her mother and siblings absolutely adored you. Her two brothers were beta’s while her sister and mother were omega’s. 

Having you, an alpha, around brought a sense of peace to the household. Your presence comforted the other omega’s. They felt more relaxed, more secure with you around than before you moved in. It didn’t matter that you were only romantically involved with Gen, you were still an alpha and they were still omega’s. Your presence comforted them in a way beta’s, like the brothers, couldn’t quite understand.

It took a while to gain the brother’s trusts but when they realized how much weight lifted off of their mother’s shoulders with your company and how you protective you were of the sister’s you quickly gained their approval.

At your family home you were constantly fighting to be alpha. Here, however, you quickly earned the position of alpha when you gained their trust. Gen’s mother still mothered her children but you looked after Gen’s sister and helped pay the bills while making sure the other alpha’s left the family alone.

“You, Y/n Y/l/n, are a very bad influence,” Gen whispers causing you to smirk.

“You love it,” You breathed against her neck. Gen shivers feeling your hot breath against her cool skin making you grin even wider.

“I love you,” She whispers. You lift your head and look at her through hooded eyes.

“I love you too,” You whisper puckering your lips. She giggles.

“Lazy,” She whispers, connecting your lips. “We need to brush our teeth,” She murmurs against your lips.

“We can be nasty together,” You whisper pushing her onto her back. Gen relaxes under you as your lips reconnect. Her moans encourage you to kiss her deeper.

“I want to be yours,” Gen whispers, you kiss down her neck towards her chest.

“You are mine,” You say. “Just as I’m yours,” 

“Y/n,” She whispers. You lips gently pepper kisses down her chest. “Y/n,” She says sternly.

“Yes, baby?” You lift your head pinching your eyebrows at the serious look on her face.

“I want to be yours,” She stresses. It takes a moment for her words to sink in.

“Mine?” You asks and she nods biting her lip. You lean over her and press your forehead against hers. “You sure, baby? There’s no going back, no getting rid of me,” You remind her. Gen smiles gently caressing the side of your face.

She knew that ever since your father completely turned his back to you that you had developed a fear of abandonment, a fear of people pretending to want you only to change their minds. You didn’t want to trap Gen with you. You worried that down the road she wouldn’t want you and if you claimed her she wouldn’t be able to leave causing her to be unhappy. It’s the main reason you hadn’t claimed her yet.

“I love you. I want you, no one else. Please, alpha,” You eyes darken and a low growl comes from your chest. She begins to whine amplifying her scent. Your head ducks down to her neck. You breath in her sweet smell. “Please, mark me, Alpha. Please,” She begs slowly breaking your resolve. “I want to be yours, completely and forever. I don’t want no one else,” You could sense her desperation begin to rise.

“Shh, omega, I’ve got you,” You whisper, trying to soothe her. “I’ll mark you, I’ll make you mine forever,” Gen smiles, slowly relaxing. “Only if you mark me, as well,” Gen’s eyes widen.

“Are you sure?” She whispers, you nod pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“100%... If you’re going to be mine and bare my mark, I want to be yours with your mark,” Gen slowly grins and nods.

“Ok,” She whispers. You grin and press your lips to hers.

“You’re perfect, Genevieve,” You whisper, moving your lips back to her neck. “Everything I could ever want,” Gen smiles, pulling your shirt over your head.

“Alpha, please, I need you,” She whines, clawing at your back.

“I’m right here, ‘mega... I’m right here,” You whisper, soothingly.

“Mark me, please,” She begs.

“Patience,” You whispers, a smirk on your lips. Your hands unclothe her before your eyes memorize every inch of her body. You couldn’t believe the woman in underneath you is going to be yours forever. Gen smiles, a light blush on her cheeks and her teeth chewing her lower lip.

“Alpha,” She whines, pulling you close. “Please,” You gently begin peppering her neck. You can feel her heartrate skyrocketing and her breathing escalate. 

“You’re gonna be all mine, baby girl,” You whisper nipping at her neck.

“Please,” She whimpers pressing her neck against your lips. She gasps, your teeth dig into her neck. “Alpha,” She cries.

“All mine,”

@akshi8278​

[goulets]

Heartland

Chapter: 3/8 Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson Additional Characters: Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne, Colin Wilkes, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, Duke Thomas Rating: T (for now) Case Fic / Kid Fic a03 link

The library has its benefits: no harassment from over-familiar family members, no Dick sexually frustrating him within an inch of his life, and, if he’s willing to be a little sentimental, he kind of does want to show it to the baby. She’s too young to appreciate it, probably, but it stirs something in him to share it with her all the same. He’s heard it’s never too early to get kids into reading - his parents sure as hell never tried, but Jason had read anything he could get his hands on, once he learned how. It had saved him, back then. Maybe it can do the same for her one day.

“Could’ve sworn Bruce had a Dr. Seuss anthology somewhere in here,” he says to her, combing over the shelves with his eyes. “Guess not. You up for something more sophisticated?”

She grunts, squeezing his shirt in her fist. “Alright,” he agrees, pulling Twelfth Night off the shelf. “Shakespeare it is. You’ve got taste, kid.”

***

(dick)

Venice is a nightclub that has gone by many names during its Gotham tenure, and just as many owners. Dick has been undercover here at least twice, back when the club was catering to the wealthier patrons of Little Italy. The current management clearly hasn’t bothered with maintaining that exclusivity - the building is now shabby and outdated, even for this neighborhood. One thing that hasn’t changed, though, is the real draw of Venice, which is the illegal casino in the back rooms beyond the VIP lounge. Through all the club’s owners, the casino has always been run by the Falcones, and always frequented by the city’s most morally flexible elected officials. In the past four nights that Dick’s been staking the place out, he’s seen five judges, two city council members, and even the new police commissioner slipping out the back door into the alley, stinking of gin and cigar smoke and patting their coat pockets with an air of satisfaction. It’s good intel to have, Barbara’s told him. Always helpful to keep the files updated on who’s being bought and by whom. None of that really makes him feel better about the fact that he’s been staking this place out for four nights and still hasn’t managed to pin down their actual target.

It’s embarrassing, is what it is. He’s Nightwing, for God’s sake. He’s taken down whole Russian mobs in Bludhaven, and now he’s being completely eluded by a third-string Falcone no one’s even heard of.

Oracle had ID’d the doer of the Torres/Howard murders in a matter of hours, true to her word, and the ballistics had predictably matched up with a few other murders that the police never bothered investigating. Susanna “Susie” Falcone, a second cousin once removed with a rap sheet that puts many of her relatives to shame. Her name must still have some pull in political circles, because she’s only done time once, in spite of being indicted almost a dozen times. Gotta love good old fashioned judicial corruption, Jason had said. No one had been able to argue, looking at the number of charges dismissed.

All in all, it was supposed to be a fairly simple tag-and-bag. Once they’d found her place of work - officially, the Venice nightclub, unofficially, the family casino - he’d been tasked to track her, question her, and then turn her in to the police. He’d chosen his stakeout perch well, on a hotel roof high above the alley, he’d followed her, unseen, and so far, she’s given him the slip every freaking time. The woman has vanished through every doorway from here to Robinson Park, as only the most enterprising criminal can. Were this a different kind of case, Dick might have been impressed.

Instead, he’s annoyed, and having to compromise - his vantage point is lower, closer but more exposed in the thin shadows of a third story construction platform right above the alley. He can see the door to the club without any difficulty, but the moment he moves, he’ll be open to attack.

He’ll just have to move fast. Fortunately, that’s what he’s best at.

There’s a soft motion behind him, almost quiet enough to escape his notice entirely. It’s Jason - Dick hadn’t expected him to actually turn up. No doubt he’s here to make sure they finally succeed in catching their mark tonight, but he’s been so adamant about not leaving Danielle with anyone except Dick that it’s still a surprise to see him. What’s equally surprising to Dick is that he was apparently hoping Jason would show, if the relief he feels at seeing him is anything to go by.

It’s a nice moment of solidarity, until Jason opens his mouth. “So, fourth night’s a charm, huh?”

Dick bristles. “What happened to not leaving the baby?” he retorts.

Jason bristles back, but doesn’t rise to the bait. It’s a little wrongfooting - a reminder that things are changing between them. Dick is used to the veneer of antagonism that hangs over his relationship with Jason, the unresolved tension they both pretend not to notice. They’d gotten into a pretty good groove when he was acting as Batman, staying out of each others’ way for the most part, and working together when necessary. Dick’s pretty sure Jason doesn’t actually harbor any murderous feelings towards him, just like he doesn’t actually hate Bruce, no matter what he says.

“The girls and Alfred ganged up on me,” Jason says, leaning back against the scaffolding. “Whatever. I needed to get the hell out of there anyways. I don’t know how you stand being around them all so much.”

Dick laughs. “They’re not as interested in me,” he admits. “I’m not the cool sibling.”

Jason doesn’t respond right away. It's hard for Dick to tell, when he’s wearing the helmet, but he thinks Jason is probably waiting to see if Dick is joking. It’s another way things have shifted between them - Jason’s holding back, not jumping straight to lashing out, like he used to. It should be a good thing - it is a good thing, but it’s throwing him off balance all the same. He feels like he's spent most of the past several days looking for Jason, even when Jason is right in front of him. He’s used to trying to find the Jason he knows - or knew - the Jason who was taken away from him. Now there’s a new Jason, a Jason he’s still getting to know. Dick can’t choose between them, can’t decide which one he wants to find every time he looks at him. Maybe that’s why he can’t seem to find his one lousy mafia shooter.

“Looks like the cops are covering up the ballistics report on Reynolds,” Jason says, after a moment. “Go figure.”

Dick frowns. “Just Reynolds?”

Jason grunts. “Hold on. What.”

Dick turns to look at him.

“Did you burp her?”

Oh, Dick realizes, he’s on the comm. Someone back at the Manor must have pinged him on a private line.

“Then get Alfred to do it.”

It’s curious that the ballistics on Cy Reynolds’ murder are the ones being suppressed, Dick thinks. He was the only one killed with a submachine gun - the bullets from most of the other crime scenes had come from a standard Beretta APX, and the object of his stakeout, Susie Falcone, had used a Glock on Danielle’s parents. The Glock matched a few other shootings, the Beretta matched none. None of that is particularly noteworthy - after all, Susie is a criminal, and Beretta shell casings are a dime a dozen at any mob shooting.

“Fine. I’ll check back in five. If you asswipes don’t pick up, I’m coming back there.” Jason makes an aggravated noise in the back of his throat, which Dick takes to mean he’s hung up.

“Everything OK?”

“Just peachy. By some cosmic fucking joke, I’m the only person in the family who can get the baby to take a damn bottle. I told her they just need to burp her, but I guess that’s too complicated a task for a family of genius detectives,” Jason grumbles. “I knew I shouldn’t have left her. Shit.”

“Jay, relax. She’s fine.” Dick can’t help but grin at him. It’s honestly sweet, the way Jason and the baby have gotten attached to each other. Dick likes to think he’s her second favorite, but it’s pretty hard to tell. No matter who’s holding her, she’s always looking at Jason, and Jason never stops looking at her.

“It’s fucking cold out here,” Jason says mulishly.

Dick raises an eyebrow. “I noticed. It’s April, not August. If you really want to go back, I’m not gonna stop you.”

“I don’t…” Jason sighs. “Look, I’m here, okay? You bungled this grade school op three nights in a row, so congrats, you triggered the bat buddy system. If I leave and you fuck it up again, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Dick supposes it’s his turn not to rise to the bait. “Fair enough,” he says easily, turning around to face the alleyway again. “What were you saying about the ballistics on Reynolds?”

“Oh, Oracle ran the bullets through Interpol. Turns out our ill-fated gang boss was offed by one of Carmine Falcone’s personal weapons. The record’s been scrubbed from US databases, but Babs had a hunch.” Jason sounds impressed.

“Been scrubbed meaning...there was a record,” Dick follows, “and some people might still remember, if they saw the bullets. Hence the coverup.”

“Yup. Hence the coverup.”

“Could explain what the commissioner was doing here the other night,” Dick muses.

Jason snorts derisively. “See, this is what I hate about the mafia. They’re so goddamn predictable. Kill the competition, pay off the cops, around and around forever. It’s so pedestrian.”

Dick laughs. “You’d rather deal with Clayface?”

“Fuck yes I would. Clayface has flair, you know? Anybody can be a mobster, shit.”

Jason has started shifting with agitation, or maybe impatience. Either way, their vantage spot isn’t hidden enough for him to be moving around. “Get low if you’re gonna be twitchy,” Dick tells him. “Or if you’re gonna have a cigarette, but I’d really rather you didn’t.”

“Lucky for you I quit then,” Jason says, crouching down next to him. “I’m not jonesing, I’m just fucking cold.”

“We could huddle together for warmth,” Dick jokes, grinning unabashedly when Jason’s helmet fixes him with a death glare. “Wait, you quit smoking? When?”

“When I started taking care of a baby, obviously.” Jason goes still, suddenly. “Is that her?”

The door to the alleyway opens, and they both tense - but it’s just a man, a bodyguard, by the looks of him. Close-cropped blonde hair, early 40s, used to throwing his weight around. Feeling there’s something familiar about him, Dick nudges Jason and motions for him to take a photo. Jason starts almost imperceptibly at the contact, but follows suit. They both hold perfectly still in the shadows as the man looks around, glances in a cursory way along the rooftops, and then sets off down the alley towards the street.

“I know him,” Jason mutters. “From Tim’s case files - he was with Intergang.”

Dick doesn’t say anything about Jason calling Tim by name, but it’s a welcome development. “Looks like he switched sides, if he’s hanging out here.”

“Wonderful,” Jason says. “All right, I’m gonna check on the kid again.”

Dick represses the urge to give him a shoulder squeeze, or ruffle his hair. It’d probably result in him getting shoved off the platform, but Jason’s being so....not different, because Dick’s always known that this Jason was still in him, somewhere. Always hoped, anyways. When Jason had been younger and acted like this, surly with his words but tender with his actions, Dick had always thought of him as cute. It’s like that now, too, except it’s not just cute, because Jason has several inches and at least two weight classes on him. It’s cute in a different way, an adult way. It’s cute in a way that makes Dick want to push harder against Jason’s armor, to catch as many glimpses of that side of him as he can. If he thinks about it too long, it’s cute in a way that makes him want, recklessly.

“Red Hood to Batgirl,” Jason says. He’s calling on the family line this time. “Give me an update.”

“You’re seriously a helicopter parent, you know that, Hood?” Steph laughs in Dick’s ear. “We figured it out. Well...Black Bat figured it out.”

Jason’s shoulders sag a little in relief. Cute, Dick thinks, involuntarily. He needs to get a grip. “About fucking time.”

“She prefers being propped up,” Cass says. “It helps her swallow.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you earlier. And she likes her back straight.”

“You said none of that, actually,” Steph says. “You just told us to support her head. Which we have been, thank you very much.”

“You have her now?”

“Robin has her.”

Dick and Jason look at each other. Jason says, “What the fuck?”

“Right?” Steph sounds amused. “I was surprised too....his friend is here, that ginger kid? He’s the one that took her from the orphanage, right?”

“Batgirl, I swear to god, if anything happens to her - ”

“Oh, calm down, jeez,” Steph groans. “They’re being supervised, okay? It’s honestly precious, you would agree with me if you could see it. I’ll text the pictures to N.”

“Please do,” Dick says. Speaking of cute, in a way that’s much safer to think about.

“Go do your job now,” Cass tells them. “We’re handling it.”

“Yeah, what she said. Batgirls out.”

“Feel better?” Dick asks, after a moment.

“Don’t ask me that,” Jason grouses. “And show me those pictures when you get them.”

Dick grins. “Sure, Jay.”

“Ugh.”

Dick decides to change the subject, before Jason gets too antsy and tries to bail. “So how do you want to play this, when Susie shows?”

Jason points to a dumpster halfway down the alley. “We wait until she’s there. I’ll get the club door, put a taser on it to stop her getting back in or anyone else from coming out. You cut her off before she gets to the street, and we question her on the backside of the dumpster. I’ll take line of sight, since I’m packing.”

Dick nods. “So is she.”

“So is every goon in those back rooms, sure. That’s why we lock their asses in.”

“And if they come out the front?”

Jason spins a gun in his hand. “Rubber bullets do the job just fine if you know how to aim. Let me worry about the backup.”

Another thing that’s changed about Jason - or that hasn’t changed, depending on how far back Dick looks. He uses rubber bullets now, whenever he’s working a case with one of them. Supposedly it’s a stipulation from Bruce, but Jason didn’t use lethal force on the couple cases he and Dick worked together, either, back when Dick was wearing the cowl. Dick thinks Bruce just gave him an excuse - whatever bloodlust Jason was fueled by when he first came back to Gotham has long since dried up. There are still things that set him off - Barbara had informed them about a dead rapist in the Narrows just last month - but Bruce hadn’t even commented on it, besides the barest acknowledgment. Dick thinks he might be the only one that actually cares when Jason kills someone, anymore. And what’s really disturbing is that he’s not actually sure how much he cares. For instance, he knows Jason has a third gun, holstered under his jacket, loaded with live ammo. He could call Jason out on it, insist he ditch it or at the very least unload it.

He says nothing. Let me worry about the backup. If this mission ends in a massacre, Dick will only have himself to blame.

The door opens again, and out steps Susie Falcone.

She immediately looks around, staying still in the doorway for a minute or more. Dick is pretty sure she hasn’t seen him following her, but he’s familiar with the sensation of being watched. He and Jason both shrink further into the shadows, waiting for her to make a move.

The whole process takes about six seconds. The moment she gets a few paces into the alley, they drop down. Jason electrifies the door handle, and Dick outmaneuvers her easily, slapping his police-issue cuffs on her and kicking her gun aside, then spinning her into the wall behind the dumpster. She hits it with a grunt. By the time she’s glaring at him, Jason is at his side again.

“Nightwing and Red Hood?” she says. “Damn. Didn’t expect to see you fellas out here.”

She doesn’t seem scared of them. Dick guesses they’ll have backup coming their way soon.

“Hey, what do you know,” Jason says conversationally, picking up the gun and emptying the clip in one swift motion. “Nightwing, I do believe this is our Glock.”

“Not mine,” Susie objects. “Picked it up off the club floor.”

“Come on, Susie, you’re smarter than that.” Jason crosses his arms. “Look, I can appreciate a sensible weapon. The Berettas the rest of your family favors? Too flashy for me. I loved Sopranos as much as the next guy, but come on.”

Dick suppresses a laugh. “Thought you were a Sig man,” he says in an undertone. He hadn’t expected Jason to take the lead, but it’s working. Susie looks agitated at the mention of her family.

“Wow, stalker. Remind me to move safe houses,” Jason quips back. “Aw, look, she slipped your cuffs.”

There’s a taser in Susie’s newly freed hand, and Dick quickly sidesteps it, twists it out of her wrist and sends it clattering down the cobblestones of the alley. Jason sweeps her legs out from under her and knocks her down flat, maybe a little harder than Dick would’ve. Thankfully, she goes down without a fight.

“Let’s try this again,” Dick says, kneeling next to her and zip-tying her wrists. If he wasn’t sure before, he is now - she was expecting them. They won’t be alone for long. He throws a couple smoke pellets down to the ends of the alley, and clips a nearly invisible wireless mic to the shoelaces of her boot under the guise of patting her down.

“You’re obviously not surprised to see us, so just tell us what we want to know,” Jason tells her, squatting down. “I’ll be honest, I don’t really give a shit that you shot Big Mouth, but what did Linda Torres ever do to you?”

“Let me up,” Susie snarls.

“No. Talk, or I’ll give you a taste of that taser you tried to pull on us.”

“Hood,” Dick hisses.

“See? He knows I’ll do it. Save yourself the grief, Susie.” Jason points the barrel of his gun lazily at her temple.

Susie narrows her eyes. “Fine. The two of them robbed me, last September. Dumb motherfuckers didn’t know who they were messing with. But I let them live because the bitch was pregnant.”

Jason makes a noise of disbelief. “Oh, sure. You’re a real bleeding heart, is that it?”

“Like you’re any better,” Susie fires back.

“You said you waited on Linda because she was pregnant,” Dick says. “Why’d you wait to kill Big Mouth?”

Susie’s mouth twists. “Guess I just felt like it.” Dick doesn’t need to see the tension in her shoulders to know she’s lying.

“Strike two.” Jason clicks the safety off. “Who put the hits out?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Susie answers. “I’m dead if I talk, so pistol whip me if you want to. Here’s the God’s honest truth: I really didn’t need a reason to kill those assholes. I was out for ‘em anyways. But I’m not crazy enough to kill a baby, all right? I don’t need shit like that on my conscience.”

“Keep talking,” Jason growls. Dick hears the whoop of a siren a few blocks off. “Where’s the baby now?”

“Somewhere safe, I swear. If anybody comes for her, it won’t be me.”

Susie still thinks Danielle’s at the orphanage, then. That’s good for them, but potentially bad for all the other kids, Colin included. These guys clearly have no problem killing children, even if Susie won’t do it.

The sirens are getting closer. Someone inside must’ve called the cops. Dick motions to Jason, indicating they need to wrap things up.

“Who is coming for her,” Jason barks, every line of his body a threat. “You’ve got five seconds.”

“You don’t.” Susie looks triumphant. They can hear the shouts of police from behind the smoke. “But don’t worry, boys. You’ll find out who really runs this town soon enough.”

“Hood,” Dick mutters. “We need to go, cops in this neighborhood aren’t cape-friendly.”

Jason stands, visibly enraged, and for a moment Dick thinks he’ll shoot Susie anyways. He’s prepared to move - but then Jason pulls out his grapple, fires, and flies up onto the roof.

“Talk about a bleeding heart,” Susie says to Dick. “He have kids or something?”

Dick doesn’t like her tone of voice at all. She’s too relaxed, too unconcerned about being under arrest. She won’t stay in long.

“It’s Nightwing! Get your hands up!”

Dick obliges, ready to pull his escrima sticks.

Three police officers come through the smoke, weapons drawn. “You better have a damn good reason for being this far out of Bludhaven,” one of them shouts at Dick.

“Sure do!” Dick calls back. “Arrested a murderer for you, no need to thank me!”

“Shut up,” a different officer retorts. “Keep your hands up, pretty boy.”

“Oh, fuck this,” Jason mutters over the comm. “I’m throwing you an escape, we’ll recon on the library roof. Stop being so goddamn chatty.”

One smoke pellet later, Dick is three rooftops away and flying. He gets to the library before Jason, exhilarated as ever from a good run.

Jason drops down next to him after a minute or so, laughing when he gets a look at Dick’s smile. “Running from the cops still does it for you, huh?”

Dick elbows him, momentarily forgetting to keep his distance. “Doesn’t it for you?”

Surprisingly, Jason doesn’t move away. “Usually they’re shooting at me, so.”

Dick leans closer, testing. “So…yes?”

“You’re so annoying,” Jason says, but he lets Dick nudge his shoulder, bump their arms together. He’s so solid, Dick thinks. So big. More like Bruce than any of them.

“So, how fast do you think she’ll get out?” he asks, when Jason stays quiet.

“Fucking tomorrow, probably,” Jason sighs. “Next week if we’re lucky.”

“Sounds like she didn’t know about Danielle, at least.”

“She’s not the problem,” Jason says, shrugging Dick off and standing back up. “Falcones will blow up the whole orphanage if they get wind of it. We need to put them down first.”

“We need to find out who’s in charge,” Dick agrees. “I planted a mic on her shoe. In the laces. Hopefully she won’t find it for a few days.”

“Good thinking,” Jason nods. “You gonna keep patrolling?”

“Might as well,” Dick says, standing up next to him and stretching his arms over his head. “I’m still stiff from that stakeout, I need to move.”

Jason’s gone quiet again. Dick thinks he hears his breath catch, but the helmet muffles it enough that it could be a yawn.

“You’re going back to the manor?”

Jason groans. “Fuck my life, yes.”

“You miss her, huh.” Cute, his brain chants.

Jason doesn’t answer, but Dick has a feeling he’s getting the stink-eye.

“I miss her too,” Dick offers. “It’s okay.”

Jason sighs. “Dick…”

“It’s a good thing, Jay. You care about her! We all do,” Dick adds, seeing the rigidity in Jason’s posture. “I mean, you’re practically her parent right now. Of course you miss her.”

“...Don’t say it like that.” Jason’s voice is low, almost pained, and Dick knows he pushed too far. “Like…like I have a right to, okay, just. Don’t.”

“Jason, wait,” Dick starts, but he doesn’t get to finish. Without a backward glance, Jason fires off a line to the neighboring building, and then he’s gone.

***

(tim)

The docks are quiet, unsettlingly so, as Tim prowls around the towers of shipping containers, keeping to the deep shadows they cast along the chipped pavement. It’s overcast, so there’s no moonlight to expose him, but it’s also too dark to see which of the trucks and campers parked all over are occupied, which ones might suddenly turn their headlights on him and catch him out.

One truck in particular - an innocuous looking Isuzu with a stunningly weaponized interior, is the object of his search. The driver, Felipe, is one of Tim’s best informants within Intergang - or had been, prior to the upheaval. Tim’s reasonably sure that Felipe is too lowly a grunt to make an example of, but still, he’s concerned that he hasn’t heard from him in a few days.

As it turns out, he needn’t have worried. He finds Felipe a hundred yard away from his truck, taking a piss off the wharf. He lets himself into the passenger side of the truck, and immediately notes that it is packed. There’s hardly a spare inch in the back, and Tim has a tough time even getting into the passenger seat with all the bags, clothes, and blankets stuffed into it. He pushes the majority of it to the floor, and waits.

Felipe comes back a few moments later. He opens the door and starts, eyes going wide when he sees Tim, but Tim puts his finger to his lips and motions for Felipe to get in so they can talk.

“Red Robin,” Felipe says, once the door is closed. He looks even more shaken than usual. “What the fuck, man?”

Tim crosses his arms. “You tell me, Felipe. You’ve been dodging my calls for days, and now I find out you’re skipping town?”

“I ditched that phone, man. Boss Reynolds had my number in there, you know? Ditched it as soon as I heard about him. I wasn’t trying to ghost you, honest.”

“Relax,” Tim tells him. “I’m not mad. I’d dodge me, too. Just tell me what happened, and I’ll shadow you out of town. Make sure you’re not followed.”

“Shit, man,” Felipe sighs. “Okay, look. There’s shit I can’t tell you, not if I ever want to hench again. You gotta figure that all out yourself, yeah?”

Tim shrugs. “Fine.”

Felipe swallows. “It started last week when Boss Reynolds met with somebody - I don’t know his name, God as my witness, but from what I heard, ‘cause I was unloading some of that funky alien tech, and you know Boss Reynolds wanted to supervise that personally - anyways, this guy in a suit took a meeting with him, and it sounded like he was offering Boss Reynolds a job. Said he had a new operation, bigger than Intergang, bigger than anything Gotham’s seen in a while.”

“Did Reynolds believe him?”

“Nah, he told him to get lost. They had some words, and then everybody started pulling guns, and I went back to the ship so I didn’t get fuckin’ shot, but I didn’t hear anything after that. Next thing I saw, Boss Reynolds was calling his son up and telling him to demo some building down by the old boardwalk - a hotel, maybe. Guess he wanted to expand that way, I don’t know.”

“That was the old Falcone hotel,” Tim says, mostly just to see Felipe’s reaction. He isn’t disappointed - Felipe goes pale, and his eyes flash to the rosary hanging off his rearview mirror. Tim likes Felipe as an informant because he’s nosy, shockingly competent for a henchman, and because he really likes to gossip. He’s never held back on Tim before this.

“Few days later, one of ours, this merc named Tiberius, comes down to the warehouse and says he’s got something to show us. Takes out a fat fuckin’ folder full of pictures…man, it was some sick shit. Boss Reynolds, his wife, Reynolds Jr, and every fuckin’ guy under him. Kids, man. He just passed it around, made everyone look at it. Then he says, we can either be in the folder, or we can come meet the new boss.”

Felipe takes a shaky breath. “Obviously I go with Tiberius, like everyone else. I heard a couple guys stayed on the ship that was docked, thinking they’d wait ‘em out, but the new boss blew it up. Says we’re not in the tech business anymore, and anyone caught trying to smuggle it is gonna get tied to it and tossed in the harbor. You can imagine my concerns,” he says, gesturing to his truck. Tim estimates half or more of the weapons in it are salvaged from alien junk. Roy Harper would have a field day with the setup this guy’s made for himself.

“So that’s why you’re bailing,” Tim says, understanding. He can hardly blame the guy. “Why not just hide the truck somewhere?”

“Well…I did think about that,” Felipe admits. “Tiberius made us a pretty sweet pitch, once we went along with him. Not gonna lie, I was tempted. Tech is my thing, you know, but I can make a gun out of pretty much anything. I could see the possibilities, is what I’m saying, but that was before we met the new boss.”

Tim nods encouragingly. This is what he’s been waiting to hear.

“Listen, Red Robin - I know we’ve had our differences, but I respect you, man, you know that. You’ve been good to me, so I’m gonna give you some advice here. Stay the hell away from the new boss. Like, don’t even get involved. I’ve been henching for a while, and I’ve seen some messed up shit, but they are crazy. Está loca, you feel me? I’ve seen the hit list, and you’re right at the top of it. You and all the other capes. Half of Arkham, too. And they’re connected, like you wouldn’t believe. Shit, I’m already saying too much, man. You see the position I’m in here?”

“I do, Felipe,” Tim tells him. He hands over a stack of hundred dollar bills, their agreed-upon rate for information. “Where are you going?”

“You’re crazy too, if you think I’m telling you that,” Felipe scoffs.

Tim wasn’t expecting a straight answer anyways. “Fair enough. You heading out now?”

“Soon as you get the hell outta my car, yeah. You said you’d shadow me out?”

“I will,” Tim says. “From a distance. If you don’t see me, it means you’re clear to cross the bridge.”

“All right,” Felipe nods. “In that case, I hope I never see your ass again.”

Tim laughs, and climbs out of the truck.

He finds his own way out of the shipyard, pulls a bike out of a safe house, and catches up with Felipe’s GPS signal halfway to the Fashion District. Once he’s sure there’s no immediate threat, he calls Barbara.

“Red Robin to Oracle. I’m uploading a recording to the server.”

Barbara is in his ear at once. “You met with your informant?”

“He wouldn’t give me a name, but he let a couple things slip.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” she says.

“First, he flinched hard when I brought up the Falcone name.”

“Confirms what we already know,” Barbara says. “Good. There’s more?”

“There’s more.” Tim tries not to gloat. This is, after all, a serious situation. “He was being cagey about mentioning the leader’s gender, so I was already suspicious, but then said ‘está loca’ when he was trying to warn me.”

Barbara whistles. “Well,” she says, sounding satisfied. “That’ll certainly narrow it down.”

“Yep,” Tim says grimly. “Looks like the new head of the Falcone family is a woman.”

***

(jason)

When Jason was Robin, the library had always been his favorite room in the Manor. It had spoken easily to his idea of what wealth was - rich people had fancy cars, sure, and maybe pools and expensive wardrobes, but wealthy people had art collections, and gardens, and libraries. Jason had spent hours upon hours browsing the shelves, reading anything he could wrap his brain around (and plenty of things he couldn’t), suggesting additions to Alfred, and avoiding his schoolwork in favor of learning about more interesting things, like string theory, or cryptology, or chemical warfare.

That was then.

Now, the library is the only place he can get a minute of peace from the constant barrage of his obnoxious, nosy, boundaryless family members. They’ve been characteristically persistent in their curiosity about him, and about Danielle, who is now Dani, courtesy of Stephanie. This is a nickname family, she’d said, and Jason hadn’t known how to disagree. So now she’s Dani, and Jason is family, and that apparently means he is no longer entitled to any privacy, or personal space for that matter. The only person who hasn’t barged in on him is Bruce, which is almost worse, in a way, because it’s one thing when nobody seeks him out, and it’s quite another when everyone does and then Bruce...doesn’t. Not that he wants Bruce to come up and bother him, God. But he’s in the man’s house, he’s hearing him on the comm constantly either on patrol or down in the cave, and all the other Bat brats and even Alfred are buzzing around him like flies. It’s too much - it feels like before, except for Bruce’s conspicuous absence reminding him that it’s not.

Sharing a bathroom with Dick is another before experience that Jason didn’t need a repeat of. In some ways, it was worse when he was Robin - stripping and showering after patrol in the cave with Dick a few feet away from him is a memory he really wouldn’t have minded leaving back in the Pit - and in other ways, it’s worse now, because Dick is always freaking around. There’s no reprieve, he’s not flitting off to the Titans every week like he used to be. Jason hasn’t gone half a day without Dick getting in his space, drawing up close to him and making that earnest eye contact he’s so annoyingly good at; sometimes wet, sometimes half-naked, sometimes both. And what can Jason do? He’s not going to leave Dani, and he needs Dick to be there so he can get some sleep every once in a while, or patrol, or shower. It’s actually been pretty helpful to have him around, in that regard, but if he has to see the guy walking around with bedhead and nothing but a pair of boxer briefs on one more time, he’s going to fucking explode.

So, the library has its benefits: no harassment from over-familiar family members, no Dick sexually frustrating him within an inch of his life, and, if he’s willing to be a little sentimental, he kind of does want to show it to Dani. She’s too young to appreciate it, probably, but it stirs something in him to share it with her all the same. He’s heard it’s never too early to get kids into reading - his parents sure as hell never tried, but Jason had read anything he could get his hands on, once he learned how. It had saved him, back then. Maybe it can do the same for Dani one day.

“Could’ve sworn Bruce had a Dr. Seuss anthology somewhere in here,” he says to her, combing over the shelves with his eyes. “Guess not. You up for something more sophisticated?”

She grunts, squeezing his shirt in her fist. “Alright,” he agrees, pulling Twelfth Night off the shelf. “Shakespeare it is. You’ve got taste, kid.”

He wonders, not for the first time, what exactly he thinks he’s doing, playing at this whole parenting thing. The rational part of his brain knows that this is a case, that Dani is a victim, that Jason is protecting her because it’s his job. The emotional part of his brain has gone completely off the goddamn rails. Case in point: he’s here with her in the library, prepping her for early literacy like some kind of Crest Hill soccer mom wannabe. Like he’ll even be in her life when she starts doing her ABCs - God willing, she’ll be as far away from him as possible by the time that happens.

It’s fucking hard to think about. He never thought he’d get this attached to a person who can’t even burp on their own. It’s been over a week, and he still struggles with putting her down, with stepping away from her, even when he knows he’s coming right back. Steph and Damian have been wanting to hold her all the time, and Jason knows that they’re capable, knows he has no claim over Dani, doesn’t even mind either of them all that much under normal circumstances, and still, he can’t help feeling like something has reached inside and gripped at his heart every time he passes her over. Which is ridiculous, because she’s not his, he has no more claim over her than any other schmuck off the street. She’s just a kid with unbelievably bad luck, and he’s the idiot who followed Dick up the stairs instead of booking it out the door like a sensible person.

He settles down with her on the couch, propping her up on a couple of pillows, giving her foot a little squeeze. She squeals, smiling at him, and stuffs her fingers in her mouth. God, Jason didn’t know he could feel the way he feels whenever she smiles at him. It’s gonna kill him when he has to give her up.

“If music be the food of love, play on,” he reads, walking his fingers up her leg. “Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken, and so die.”

Dani watches him, chewing happily on her fingers. “‘O, it came over my ear like the sweet sound that breathes upon a bank of violets.’ That’s you, you know.” He pokes her in the cheek, grinning. If music be the food of love…but hell, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this. Especially when she’s all calm and engaging, the precious few minutes that he’s learned to appreciate in between finishing eating and being tired and cranky, when all she wants to do is look around at things, and all Jason wants to do, ever, is look at her.

The door to the library opens, and Jason goes from content to murderous in a fraction of a second. “What the fuck is it now,” he hisses, expecting Damian or maybe Tim, coming to nag him some more, and instead sees Damian’s friend Colin, who looks horrified to have intruded on him. Jason immediately feels like the world’s biggest ass.

“Sorry,” Colin whispers, mortified, and Jason waves a hand apologetically.

“My bad, I didn’t know it was you. Come in, it’s fine. She’s awake, you don’t need to whisper.”

Colin looks unsure, but soon nods and steps into the library, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Once inside, he dawdles by the nearest bookshelf, clearly at a loss. Jason probably should’ve just let him back out, because this is awkward. Should he keep reading to Dani? Talk to Colin? Ask him why he looks like someone just kicked him and stole his dog?

“You good?” he ventures, figuring he ought to at least attempt to be the adult in the room.

Colin glances at him over his shoulder, smiling tentatively. “Yeah, just bored. Damian’s sleeping, we had a rough patrol last night.”

“We?” Jason repeats, stunned. Bruce isn’t an exemplar of child welfare practices, sure, but letting Damian take other kids on crime-busting playdates? What the hell?

“Oh, I guess you don’t know,” Colin frowns. “I’m….uh, it’s probably easier if I just show you.”

He slides his jacket off, threadbare t-shirt hanging off his skinny frame. Jason tenses, not sure what to expect. When Colin’s arm starts to expand, his eyes widen. By the time his fist is as big around as Jason’s thigh, he thinks his eyebrows have probably disappeared into his hairline.

“Oh.” Jason has no idea how he’s supposed to react to this. Is Colin a meta? He’s pretty sure he would know if Colin was a meta. “How…?”

“Scarecrow,” Colin explains. Jason’s heart sinks. “He experimented on me with synthetic Venom. Batman saved me.”

Dani fusses, twisting her body and scrunching her face up. Jason sympathizes - this conversation is giving him gas, too. “Shit,” he says. Not the most articulate way of expressing his condolences, but Colin’s friends with Damian, so tact can’t be of great importance to him. “I didn’t know.”

Dani starts to cry, and Colin takes a couple steps forward, putting Jason’s hackles up at once. Stop it, he tells himself sternly. He might have fallen down a few pegs, but he’s not pathetic enough to square up against an abused fifth grader. He picks her up, rubbing her back, and then glances over at Colin. The kid’s gone shy, looking down at a point somewhere between Jason’s legs and the floor. Jason feels all the hostility bleed out of him, and he sighs.

“You can sit down.” He gestures to the couch, trying to sound nonthreatening. Dani burps, mouths at his shirt, and then gurgles and kicks her legs again. She leans back against his hold to stare at Colin, and Colin’s face splits into a huge grin. He tucks himself down into the cushions, keeping plenty of space between them, but Jason can sense from the inclination of his body that he wants to be closer. Well, if anyone has a right to be close to Dani, it’s the kid who rescued her in the first place.

“Here,” he offers, turning Dani around in his arms. His heart clenches, and he clamps down on his desire to flee. “You can hold her for a minute, if you want to. She likes you.”

Colin looks at him, eyes shining. “Really?”

Jason nods. “Go ahead. Honestly, you probably know a lot more about this shit than I do.”

Colin takes Dani from him carefully, smiling at her and laughing when she reaches forward to grab at his jacket zipper. A few seconds later, it’s in her mouth, along with most of her fist.

“Should I…?” Colin looks at Jason hesitantly.

“I mean…she’s had worse things in her mouth,” Jason tells him. A ringing endorsement of his child-minding abilities right there. “It’s fine, right? That’s how they build an immune system, or whatever.”

“Well, Alfred washed this for me last night,” Colin admits, looking embarrassed. “So it shouldn’t be too gross.”

Jason leans back against the couch cushions, crossing his arms. “Getting all the perks, huh?”

Colin shrugs, casting his eyes down again. “I like it here.”

Considering where Colin grew up, Jason supposes he can’t blame the kid. Still, he’s not quite wrapping his head around this sweet, genuinely nice kid being buddies with Damian. The demon brat isn’t exactly known for his winning personality, and Jason only knows vaguely how the two of them met, but what he’s heard doesn’t strike him as being particularly conducive to forging the lasting bonds of friendship.

Curiosity gets the better of him, and he decides to just ask. “Why’d you call Damian, the night you found her?”

Colin looks surprised. “I...don’t know,” he says, slowly. “I didn’t know who else to call? Damian’s my best friend, and he always knows what to do.”

Jason can’t keep the skeptical look off his face.

“And if he doesn’t, Bat….Bruce, I mean, definitely always knows what to do.”

Jason scrubs a hand over his face. Time to change the fucking subject. “How’d you two get hooked up, anyways?”

Dani turns her head to look at him, still eating Colin’s zipper. Sometimes, Jason gets the bizarre feeling that she can somehow tell when he’s about to blow a gasket. It’s probably a coincidence - she moves around a lot, and Jason has anger issues that flare up every ten minutes, so there’s bound to be some crossover - but it works, because it takes the fight right out of him every time.

“We worked a case together,” Colin says, holding Dani a little more securely against him. “About a year ago, I guess. Kids were disappearing from my orphanage, and from the shelters. I don’t think you were around.”

“I wasn’t,” Jason shakes his head. He and Roy had been busting a trafficking ring in Ibiza, and it had taken Jason over a month to get all the major players. “I heard about it a little, from Dick.”

Dick hadn’t given him too many details at the time - Jason had chalked it up to him having a few other things on his mind, but as Colin fills in the gaps, he starts to suspect Dick just didn’t want him going on a rampage. Which he absolutely would have - he still wants to, God. God. All those poor kids, just a stone’s throw from his old neighborhood. And of course the police had done jack shit - Zsasz is practically Black Mask’s pet, he probably paid them off to look the other way, not that most of them need the excuse - and Bruce was gone, and Jason was gone, and Dick was in over his head, and - fuck, it should never have fallen to Damian and Colin.

He waits for the fury to subside a little, not trusting what will come out of his mouth. Dani hums around her fist, blinking at him, and it helps. “Jesus,” he says, finally. “This fucking town.”

Colin’s mouth twists a little. “Yeah. But you were Robin, right? You probably saw worse things.”

Did he? Jason doesn’t remember. He doubts it, though. He can’t imagine he would’ve been satisfied with Bruce’s way of dealing with it.

“I wouldn’t have pulled my stroke, when I was Robin,” he muses. “Probably why Bruce never gave me a sword.”

No, Jason would’ve bisected the fucker. It still has appeal, though he thinks he would lean towards his favorite Sig rifle if he was taking care of it today. Headshots for the henchmen - anyone who signs on to that kind of operation, even in the most menial capacity, doesn’t deserve to breathe. Kneecaps and crotch shots for the spectators, to make sure they couldn’t get away. Gut shots for the kid-wranglers. And Zsasz....it’s tempting to want to draw it out, but Jason can feel the desire leaving him the longer he thinks about it. His imaginative tortures fade into a simple headshot, and even that isn’t satisfying. Fuck. He just can’t seem to hold onto his rage lately, even when he wants to. It’s all being replaced by some kind of anxiety, some kind of tenderness that aches, burning deep into him every time Dani looks at him, or touches him. Every time he thinks of her. Every time he feels Dick watching him with her, all warmth and affection.

Colin bounces her a little, making her laugh. Jason feels his revenge fantasy slip away.

“What’re you reading her?” Colin nods to the book still laying open in Jason’s lap.

Jason looks at it. “Oh, Twelfth Night. Shakespeare,” he adds, recalling that Colin is eleven, and likely not perusing great literature in his free time. “Figure it’s never too early to start her on the classics.”

Colin grins. “That’s cool,” he says. “Does she like it?”

“Beats me,” Jason shrugs.

“Read some?”

Jason raises his eyebrows.

Colin flushes. “Um. I mean, if you want…”

He decides to humor him. What the hell. “Sure, why not. ‘O spirit of love! How quick and fresh art thou, that, notwithstanding in thy capacity, receiveth as the sea.’”

Dani yawns widely, relinquishing her fist in a long string of drool. Jason laughs, and so does Colin. “Maybe jumping the gun a little,” he admits. “I don’t really know what kids are into these days.”

“Me either,” Colin says. “I think she liked it, though. See, she’s just sleepy.”

Jason feels a lump forming in his throat, and swallows hard against it.

“What does it mean? The part you were reading,” Colin asks.

“Um.” Jason doesn’t really know, he’s not exactly a literary scholar, but he’s always liked to work Shakespeare out on his own, finding meaning in the wordplay and running the metaphors through his mind until they line up in a satisfactory way. He doesn’t know if his interpretation is correct, exactly, but: “So this Duke, a guy called Orsino, is saying that he doesn’t want to be in love anymore. He’s talking about love and how everyone thinks it’s this wonderful thing, but the truth is that it actually just makes people miserable.”

Jason pauses, feeling like he just showed way too much of his hand. “Basically, he’s just complaining,” he finishes, uneasy.

Glancing at Colin out of the corner of his eye, he’s relieved to see that he’s occupied with Dani, and not paying attention to Jason at all. Thank fuck. If it’d been anyone else in the house sitting there, he’d be in for some horrible armchair psychology session, and he’d have to book it out the window and not return for several months.

“I think she wants you,” Colin says, as Dani ramps up her fussing. Jason takes her gratefully, holds her to his chest as she rubs her eyes and grumbles her displeasure at being passed around.

“All right, I hear you,” Jason murmurs, gently tugging her fists away from her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, come on. It’s not so bad.” Like he’s one to talk.

And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, ever since pursue me, he thinks, rocking her tiny body into a comfortable position. Colin was only holding her for ten, maybe fifteen minutes, and Jason was sitting less than five feet away, but he missed her. God, what is happening to him?

“Damian didn’t want to bring her here, at first,” Colin says quietly. “But I think he’s glad that we did. He really likes her, you know.”

Jason doesn’t quite know how to feel about that. It’s sweet, on some level. And he’s well aware that Damian likes her, going by the amount of time he spends hovering in the hallway outside Jason’s room, not to mention the increasingly expensive toys that keep showing up among her things.

He looks down at her, dozing off. “Well, she’s pretty easy to like.”

Colin nods, looking pleased.

“Damian, on the other hand....”

Colin grins. “He’s not so bad.”

He’s really not. Like hell Jason will ever tell him that, though. “You have bizarre taste, kid.”

Colin blushes, hard, and Jason blinks. Well. That’s interesting, isn’t it? Or it will be, in a few years. He makes a note to ask Dick about it, later.

“Are you gonna adopt her?” Colin asks, bringing Jason’s amused thoughts to a screeching halt.

Automatically, he says, “No way.”

Colin looks wounded. “Why not?”

“Because I can’t,” Jason replies. “I’m the last person who should be a parent, trust me.”

“Doesn’t look that way to me.”

Doesn’t feel that way either - the thought floats up, unbidden, uninvited. He can’t. “She deserves better,” Jason says, heavily. “Even if….even I could handle it. She deserves better than this family.”

“But your family is - ”

“A death sentence.” He’s being harsh, but if Colin’s gonna be hanging around, he’ll find out for himself soon enough. “It’s fucking cursed, look. I couldn’t do that to any kid, especially her. You should get out too, while you still can.”

Colin looks angry, which surprises him. His hands are balled into fists, and Jason sees a tremor in them, a bulging that immediately sets off alarm bells in his head.

“Kid,” he says sharply. “Colin. If you’re gonna hulk out, take it outside. Alfred will have an honest-to-God stroke if you do it in here.”

A few deep breaths later, Colin looks normal again. “Sorry.” His voice is hoarse. “You’re wrong, though.”

Jason’s temper flares. “No offense, but I think I would know better than you,” he snaps. Dani grumbles sleepily in his arms, and he sighs out in frustration. “Trust me, okay? She’s better off. It never ends well, not in this family. I’m proof of that.”

But Colin shakes his head. “You don’t know,” he says. “My mom said the same thing, when she dropped me off at the orphanage. She gave the nuns a letter - she said I’d be better off with them than with her.”

Jason stills.

“It didn’t matter,” Colin continues. “Scarecrow still got me. Victor Zsasz still got me. Maybe they would have gotten me with her, too. Maybe I wouldn’t have been that much better off with her, but at least I would’ve been with her.” He sniffles, and Jason holds Dani a little tighter.

“I know she loved me.” His voice cracks. “I just wish...I wish I could’ve stayed with her. I wish she would have known that I never would’ve been better off away from her.”

He looks absolutely miserable, pitched forward and rubbing hard at his eyes. Jason is reminded painfully of how young Colin is, closer to Dani’s age than his own. He remembers being Colin’s age and younger, thinking the same thoughts about his own mother. How fiercely he’d guarded her, chased away the cops and the social workers, doing everything in his power not to be separated from her. Not that it mattered, in the end.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Colin, I’m sorry. For the record, I actually kind of get where you’re coming from.”

Colin looks up at him.

“Wish I didn’t, but. That’s life.”

“You should adopt her,” Colin says again, softly.

Jason shakes his head. “Colin…”

“You’ll think about it.”

He exhales. “Sure, I’ll think about it.” Like he’ll be able to think about anything else after this.

“She needs you,” Colin insists stubbornly.

Jason doesn’t reply. He knows on some level Colin is right - Dani does need him right now. She needs someone, at least, someone who can take care of her and protect her. Someone who isn’t afraid to shed blood to keep her safe. Jason doesn’t relish the thought, but he’s certain this won’t end tidily. Mob cases never do. It’ll be messy, and bloody, and Bruce will have a shit fit, and Dick probably will too, and Jason will go back to Crime Alley and Dani will get shipped off to Witness Protection or something, and damn, does that hurt to think about.

He looks over at Colin, still hunched over on himself, vulnerability written into every line of his posture. He’s desperately in need of a hug, or some kind of affection, validation, maybe. Or that’s just Jason projecting, who the fuck knows. If Dick was here, he would know exactly what to do for him. Jason’s at a loss, unable to separate his young self from the damaged kid sitting next to him.

He adjusts his hold on Dani carefully, laying her down flat along his arm, while he works out what to say. Finally, he settles on, “Damian’s lucky to have you.”

Colin sits up a little straighter. He looks like he’s waiting for more, but he’s shit out of luck, because Jason has no idea what else he needs to hear. No idea what he could say that wouldn’t be completely insincere, anyways. We can be your family, Colin. Like hell. Bruce has enough kids lined up waiting to die for him, he’s not about to encourage another one to be turned into cannon fodder for the man’s principles.

“Uh, yeah,” Jason says, after a moment. “That’s all I got.”

Colin smiles wanly. “Thanks, anyways.”

Jason snorts. “Sure.”

“Can I hug you?”

Jason stares. “Can you…what? Me?”

“I won’t if you don’t want me to,” Colin adds, averting his eyes.

Jason can’t even remember the last time someone hugged him. He thinks Roy might’ve, some eight or nine months ago, after they’d narrowly survived a warehouse explosion. Jason’s whole body had been ringing from the blast, so he doesn’t exactly remember the sensation of it. And before that…?

He imagines Dick’s reaction, if he was here. He’d be disappointed in Jason, that’s for sure. Really, Jay? You can’t hug a child? It’s a fair argument, he has to admit. Jason’s fucked up personal space issues don’t really apply to children, or babies, clearly. Colin’s obviously attention-starved, and Jason’s already holding one kid. What’s another, really.

“Okay,” he relents. “Hit me.”

There’s a shuffling motion next to him, and then Colin is hugging his free arm, leaning his head against Jason’s shoulder. Jason can’t quite contain his surprise - it’s weird, as expected, but it’s not dramatically increasing his desire to bolt through the nearest exit like he’d thought it would. It’s a little funny, actually. He’s pretty sure both Bruce and Damian would lose their shit if they could see him right now. Dick, too, most likely, but to his credit, it would be a happy kind of shit-losing. Damian would probably try to gut him.

Are there cameras in the library? Jason can’t remember. He kind of hopes there aren’t, because if anyone else sees this, he will absolutely never live it down.

***

(dick)

“Wait, I think that’s him.” Dick leans forward to peer at Tim’s screen. He points to the familiar looking figure. “That guy. Do you have a clearer shot?”

Tim skips a few photos ahead, and zooms in. “Him?”

“Yes. That’s the guy. Jason said he recognized him from your surveillance files. He was at the club the night we caught Susie Falcone.”

“The fourth night, was it?” Tim asks, innocently.

“Don’t be mean, Timmy.”

“Just clarifying,” Tim grins. Dick raises an eyebrow. “Okay, okay. I don’t have a ton of intel on this guy, he’s really slippery. According to my informant, he goes by Tiberius - some kind of mercenary, Greek or Albanian national. I doubt that’s his real name.”

Dick nods, studying the photographs. Tim continues, “He came over with Intergang as an enforcer, I think. Might’ve been Reynolds’ personal bodyguard.”

“Could explain how Reynolds got taken out,” Dick says thoughtfully. “He’s on the Falcones’ payroll now, but he’s not family. Might be an easy target.”

Tim opens his mouth, about to reply, when there’s a choked-off sound of fury from the Batcave below them.

“Was that Damian? He’s up already?” Dick asks, glancing down towards Bruce’s computer. He hops over the ramp to see what the fuss is about. Tim follows close behind.

“Everything okay?” Dick asks, approaching the wall of screens. There’s nothing that jumps out at him as being particularly alarming; Bruce is looking at DNA analyses, and Damian is looking at the Manor surveillance, tapping furiously at his ear.

“Todd!” he hisses. “What do you think you’re doing? Colin is my friend!”

“Robin,” Oracle’s voice comes through the speaker. “No names on the comms. And Hood isn’t wearing his earpiece, so you’ll have to tell him in person.” She sounds amused. “Oracle out.”

Damian swears.

“Holy shit,” Tim says faintly. “Look at them.”

The screen that all the Manor surveillance feeds run to is showing just one room - the library, of all places, but Dick vaguely recalls it being some kind of sanctuary to Jason, years and years ago. It makes sense that he’d end up back there, and it makes sense that he’d have Dani with him. What Dick doesn’t expect to see is little Colin Wilkes, all five feet and change of him, snuggled up to Jason’s side and hugging him, wrapped around his arm like a gangly koala. Dick can’t help but notice that Jason’s bicep is about as big around as Colin’s head, which is certainly...something. He’s not quite ready to classify how he feels about that, so he refocuses on the hug itself, which is nothing short of charming.

Damian grinds his teeth audibly. “It’s still going.”

“Oh, man.” Dick can’t help the grin he feels creeping up the sides of his face. “Bruce, are you seeing this?”

“I am,” Bruce says, stiffly. He looks like he’s in pain. Dick fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“What’s wrong with you? Look how sweet they are!” he exclaims, gesturing. It’s adorable.

“It is not sweet,” Damian snarls, whirling on him. “Todd is a corruptive influence, and Colin is young and impressionable! Where is your concern for him?”

Tim coughs, and it sounds a little bit like “jealous”. Surprisingly, this does not diffuse Damian’s indignation.

“I don’t get it,” Dick says, stepping between them quickly to block Damian’s spinning kick. “I thought you and Jason were fine, Damian. You’ve been spending enough time in our - in his room lately. Where’s this coming from?”

“Incredibly, I don’t feel as concerned about Todd recruiting an infant onto the path of lawlessness,” Damian retorts. “Colin lacks paternal guidance in his life, as you know. Todd clearly senses it.”

“Jason is very paternal these days,” Tim agrees.

“I’m pretty sure it’s just a hug,” Dick says in exasperation. “No one’s recruiting anyone, Damian. And look, it’s over. Your friend is just a hugger, that’s all.”

“I must agree with Master Richard,” Alfred says from behind them. “Having been the recipient of many such embraces from young Master Colin myself.”

“See? I’ve gotten hugs from him too,” Dick tells Damian. “And I know you have, so don’t bother denying it. He’s probably gearing up the courage to get one from Bruce one of these days.”

Bruce looks slightly alarmed by the prospect. “He is?”

Damian looks conflicted. “He is?”

Dick casts his eyes heavenward. “Colin, I’m so sorry.”

Before he can say anything else, the Cave door opens below them, and Duke’s bike comes shooting in, whipping around into its parking spot in a move that would send Dick flying over the handlebars. Bruce takes about half a second to look impressed, and then clears the main screen to pull up their intel on the Falcone case.

“What’s up, guys,” Duke calls, pulling off his helmet and jogging up the steps. “I’ve got news. Where’s Jason?”

“Being hugged, in the library,” Dick tells him. “You just missed it.”

Duke looks nonplussed. “Damn. Wait, that’s not some kind of weird euphemism, is it? If it is, I don’t want to know.”

“It most certainly is not,” Damian says venomously.

“Cool. I tried to get him on the comm, but he didn’t respond. Should I go get him? He’ll want to hear this.”

“Damian will get him,” Bruce says.

Damian is…already on the elevator. Dick spares a thought for Jason. At least he’s holding Dani, so Damian won’t attack him outright.

“Your news?” Bruce prompts.

“Right,” Duke nods. “I’ve been all over City Hall records, and spent yesterday afternoon getting intel in the East End. I’ve got names and faces of most of the major players in this. They’re trying hard to front some distant nephew of Carmine Falcone as the head of the whole operation, but it wasn’t quite adding up. You said the new Falcone boss is a woman, right?” he asks Tim.

Tim nods affirmatively.

Duke looks triumphant. “Then I know who she is.”

***

[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- VERITASERUM

Harry startled back into this living room as he heard a whispered conversation in two other ghost voices. He'd been remembering those spectrals so clearly because of this last chapter, that hearing Sirius and Remus speak without some sort of echo like the others startled him out of the warmth that was his actual living parents embracing him, and blinking around in startled confusion, some little blip going off in his brain saying their voices shouldn't have even come out of that spell- 

He hissed and blinked, going cross eyed as he stared at his very alive godfather and his seatmate, who was now watching him with even more concern than before, but he quickly let go of the moment even he didn't understand, not wanting to break away from his parents attention for any longer than he could. 

He looked back at them to see his Mum crying softly, still trying to flatten his hair with her gentle nails, while his dad was more still and silent than Harry had yet seen him, and he didn't need to know him long to know that wasn't a good thing. He tried in vain to babble out something, "I, thank you doesn't really cover it, but I don't know what to say, I'm sorry I never-"

Lily gently shushed him, never stopping her comforting motion. "It's all we've wanted since we found out what would happen to us, to be of help to you just for one moment, now we have. Don't ruin it with silly little things like that, we know."

James had to struggle a bit more to get out anything coherent, "if that's all the time you ever get got to spend with us before now, than I can't say it wasn't well used."

  Sirius muttered something, his natural rebellion forcing the words out of how he still planned on this never being the case, not so long as he lived, but James must not have heard him right as he said, "we can keep going, I know this can't be much more fun for you two to be watching."

Remus was quick to wave his hands in protest, saying, "Wha-, oh no. We, erm, were trying to slip away actually, just leave the rest for tomorrow. I know I can't handle anything worse than that tonight."

Lily rubbed furiously at her streaming eyes, but said in a steady enough voice, "don't be ridiculous, it's hardly even late enough for dinner." Food was honestly the last thing on anyone's mind, but the patient and also fast pace of cooking always did help her, but sadly she couldn't even claim that distraction yet. "Stewing on this all night will help nothing, and no offense love," she gave Harry's ear a little tweak, "but I'm quite done with your fourth year, I'd like to see it be over already."

Harry had to clear his throat to agree, failed anyways, and just nodded.

"Besides," James got out in a much stronger voice this time, "it's not going to look any better in morning light, Harry's still going to go back to the castle and have to recant everything." His eyes lingered on Sirius in the worst way, he couldn't imagine how his best friend was going to react to the news of his ghost, but if they heard that sooner rather than later, at least James wouldn't have all night to dwell on what his best friends reaction was going to be. He was still fearing Sirius would do something far worse than be framed for a killing spree when Sirius realized how involved that rat had been in all of this. "Plus, I know I'm not going to be able to think of much else until I know the blackered who got Harry into this mess in the first place, and now we know he's at Hogwarts. With any luck Dumbledore'll figure it out, somehow." He finished with more optimism than he felt, he was just trying to find something happy to linger on even as he insisted they continue with bad.

Remus didn't really agree, he thought the three of them were trying to put up too much of a strong front for the two of them, but he wasn't going to argue anymore either. Sometimes you just needed a good cry, but if the thought would linger in them that everyone else would know about it, none of them would indulge. Best to get this bloody book over with and then let them have the rest of their night alone. So Remus scooped up the discarded book, and began heavily.

Harry slammed back into the grass, and moved no more. The cool handle of the Cup in one hand, Cedric's body still clenched in the other, all he could concentrate on was not letting go of either one, lest he slip away forever.

Lily would later regret letting her nails dig into Harry so hard, but for now she felt the same way as he had then. If she let go of her hold on him, for even an instant, he'd be torn away from her now when he needed her most. They didn't even have confirmation yet he was back safe at school. How did that...ghost of her husband (even thinking it nearly set her into tears again) know this would get Harry back safe?

In the throes of the shock, exhaustion, and suspension of waiting for something else to change, all the while his scar continued to burn.

James felt himself tucking closer into Harry all the time, knowing he wouldn't feel safe and at ease with any of this again until his son was back around Sirius for starters. Every jealous moment he'd had over the past few days felt all the more ridiculous to him now, when he was instead all the more grateful someone was still out there that he could trust.

Sound was encroaching his ears, first cautious footsteps, then murmurs of fear, which grew quickly into screams. Still Harry couldn't move, inhaling the grass and waiting for a nightmare to end.

Harry shivered while still safe in his parents hold, the echo of that noise from the second task coming back to him clearer than ever. He knew it wouldn't have helped at all to remember sooner, Cedric's death would still be eating away at him and no amount of warning could have softened the blow.

The first to reach through him was Dumbledore, flipping him towards the stars to meet those blue eyes.

Remus finally felt some relief bleeding back into his voice, brushing out the tense and still clogged words from before. Dumbledore was there, everything had to be alright now.

His silvery beard swam in and out of focus for a moment before Harry collected himself, whispering that Voldemort was back.

Sirius felt a low whine in his throat, what he wouldn't give for that not to be true. He'd take hearing about Azkaban and that basilisk all over again, because at least that stuff felt manageable in the aftermath. This! They were still trying to figure out how to get rid of Voldemort the first time, now they had to do it all over again, with Harry in the center!

Dumbledore had not a second to react, Fudge was there and hissing at Dumbledore that the Diggory parents were pushing through the crowd, they should be warned before they saw their son's body. Dumbledore tried to break Harry's hold on him, but Harry refused, insisting he had to get him back to his parents.

Lily was still shivering non stop beside him. Her baby wasn't even a year old yet, she'd spent these first few months of his life in bliss as she nurtured him, she didn't even want to imagine it coming to an end before her's, let alone what the Diggory's were about to witness.

Dumbledore murmured words of comfort, that Harry had done just that as he pulled the two apart, then helped Harry to his feet. His injured leg barely held him in all the jostling going on around him, the cries of the night still drowning out most noise of how Cedric Diggory was dead.

James was getting jittery as he tried to convince his fingers to loosen their hold on Harry even a bit, but it wasn't working because all he wanted to do was pull his son away from that watchful crowd, get him somewhere safe so that he could just think for a moment instead of being yet another spectacle in everyone else's life.

Fudge was being insistent, he and Dumbledore had to go meet the Diggory's before they could get over here and see this for themselves, and Dumbledore agreed while telling Harry to stay right where he was. Harry could hardly process a word, everything was flickering around him.

Sirius' mind had desperately been flicking around to anyone who could possibly be trying to come forward, to help Harry right now, his useless arse couldn't be because he was still up in those mountains being a waste of space. Instead he was left wondering where Molly was, but that would only hurt more when the mother who shouldn't be arrived. In fact Sirius wouldn't be much help either. No, the two Harry needed were beyond a grave still.

He felt more than heard someone trying to lead him away, muttering about the hospital wing while referring to him as son.

James was worried he was going to snap bones soon. Either his own hands from clenching his fist too hard, or this unseen persons who was both referring to his son that way at this moment, and actually trying to do what James knew he should be doing.

Harry tried to resist, saying Dumbledore had told him not to move, but he was so unfocused with his blurry vision it wasn't possible not to follow along.

"Dumbledore can come see you when you're in the hospital wing love," Lily murmured gently into his ear, "this person's got the right idea, you need to be looked over."

Harry though shook his head, he still knew this wasn't a good thing.

The person was being persistent, and Harry was taken from that crowd and those screams, towards the castle, and only when he heard the distinct clunk clunk of the peg leg traveling through the stone corridors inside did Harry register Mad-Eye Moody.

Harry watched those around him relax even more at the news, the only one they would have hand picked better was McGonagall.

While Harry was starting to feel nauseous all over again, wishing he had fought his way free of Moody, to run and call for help. This was bad, why was he the only one thinking this?

Upon Moody's prompting, Harry tried to explain what had happened, how the Cup had been a Portkey to take him and Cedric to that graveyard,

Harry still felt every part of him clench up at that word.

and Voldemort had been there, Lord Voldemort.

"I'm sure there aren't enough Voldemort's around the self proclaimed title needed to be distinguished," Remus muttered under his breath before he could stop himself.

Sirius caught his eye and gave him a grin for the remark, they'd all be needing a sense of humor back eventually just to get through this.

Moody prompted further about the Dark Lord,

James cocked his head to the side, finding it odd Moody would refer to him like that, he'd only heard Death Eater's do the same. Normally Moody just referred to him as You-Know-Who like everyone else.

and Harry whispered how they'd killed Cedric.

Remus wasn't sure why Harry said they, instead of he, but he was grateful all the same, knowing he could not get out that curse of a name without biting his own tongue off in that moment, not while seeing what it did to Harry.

The repetitive clunking noise of every other of Moody's steps was the only noise except Harry telling how the Dark Lord had returned, the Death Eaters had come, and then they'd dueled.

"And kicked his scaly but," Sirius agreed in a too high pitched voice, but the eerie silence as Remus got this retelling out was starting to make him nervous. He was rewarded by at least Harry meeting his eyes fleetingly and giving a soft smile, which didn't last as his face at once went back into closed off and in pain. That was usually the look he adopted when something bad was fixing to happen to him, but what else could be worse!?

He finished by whispering how his wand had done something odd, and he'd seen his parents...

Harry's bad feeling of whatever was fixing to go on around Moody most likely would have spilled over into a full blown migraine by now if he wasn't still half focused on that, wishing he could be telling his parents all of this instead of merely thinking of them from beyond.

Harry was temporarily cut off as he was finally led inside a room, told everything was going to be alright as he drank something.

Harry was still very sure though that alright was not the word he'd use for whatever was fixing to happen to him...

There was a scrape of a key in a lock before Moody was back, helping the cup into his hand as Moody prompted for exactly what had happened.

"Can't Moody bleeding wait," James sneered, he was already in a torrent of other moods, and Moody was pushing in a new one. "He's going to have to relive this for Dumbledore again as is."

"I doubt Dumbledore will let Harry get away with these meager details," Sirius agreed with a heavy scowl. "He'll want to hear everything, and not from Moody. He's not doing him any help with this."

Harry had to swallow hard to fight back saying that Moody wasn't intending to help anyone in that castle, least of all Dumbledore.

Harry's throat seared as the liquid went down, but he could finally focus properly on his surroundings again, most notably the old Auror staring hungrily into Harry's face as he prompted Voldemort being back, asking how it had been done.

"Whoa," Lily yelped, "he really called him Voldemort that time?"

"He did indeed," Remus agreed, watching the page curiously like he expected the print to change before convincing his eyes to move on.

Harry whispered the three ingredients.

In order to not rip this book in half and burn every page as kindling for that horrific sentence existing, Remus instead forced his mind to picture something different, the opposite of that foul little trader. He thought about little baby Harry, honestly having missed his company lately as just a small spot of life during this, and how peaceful he always looked sleeping against his father's chest.

Now that his eyes were working again, he began looking at his surroundings, and found himself in Moody's office.

"Office?" Lily demanded, she was the one trying her hardest to move past that rat having been mentioned again. "I thought he was taking you to the Hospital Wing?"

Remus sighed as he reread that himself, indeed wanting to give Moody a piece of his mind now. Was getting all of this out of him really more important than Harry getting checked over? For that matter, while Lily and James did want to see him under the matrons care, it was still rubbing Remus the wrong way Harry had been removed from Dumbledore's eyesight to begin with. Moody should have followed Dumbledore's orders, which had been clear in Harry staying right where he was. Why was this starting to make him feel so uneasy?

The echoes of the screams from the Quidditch pitch could still be heard from the window.

Moody kept his attention by asking what exactly had been taken from Harry, and he explained his blood, glancing down at his torn sleeve where Wormtail's dagger had struck.

James hadn't been aware that knife stabbing him in the back even since he'd learned about his involvement could hurt any less, but what he'd done to Harry trumped it, and that was all the worse.

Moody had a twisted look on his already disproportionate features as he insisted Harry continue, asking about the Death Eaters, asking if he forgave them?

"Is that really a priority?" Lily demanded, her brows shooting up furiously the longer this carried on. What was Moody thinking, doing this to Harry now?

Something else in Harry's mind flicked then, realizing this should have been the first thing he told Dumbledore! There was a Death Eater at Hogwarts!

"While the first thing you told him was a bit more of a priority," James shook his head, "I agree that should have been second on the list, but I'll excuse you for your lapse. You're telling Moody now, that's what's important since you've been through a bit." His face twitched, that didn't nearly cover what Harry had been through and it felt terrible to downplay it for even a second, but Harry caught his eye and smiled at him all the same.

Moody waved that off, saying he knew who the Death Eater was.

Remus blanched a bit as he got that out, that wasn't exactly encouraging that Moody claimed to have known this all along and had done nothing to stop it.

James nearly went on a rampage right there, he was already past his end today, and now to find out Moody had known all of this and hadn't even warned Harry! Or he had warned Dumbledore who hadn't warned Harry! Either way, Moody's whole head was coming off when this mess was done!

Harry's first guess was Karkaroff,

"Why did you blame Karkaroff before Snape?" Sirius demanded. Harry was honestly surprised not to see blood swimming in his eyes, his voice was filled with enough of it.

"I'd hated Snape longer, but you'd given me more reason to distrust Karkaroff this year," Harry reminded.

but Moody gave an odd laugh, telling how Karkaroff had fled the moment he felt his Dark Mark burn. He wasn't expecting a welcome return, with all he'd put in Azkaban. He wouldn't stay gone long though, the Dark Lord had ways of tracking his enemies.

Remus wasn't sure how he felt about that news. Pleased enough that Karkaroff had fled because he feared his cowardly choices, but in a twisted disappointed way as well he wouldn't get to hear about him going back to Azkaban at least any time soon.

Harry didn't understand, if he'd left, then who'd put his name in the goblet?

"Why would you draw that conclusion?" Lily asked. "I can easily picturing him making a run for it after his job was done of getting you there."

Harry had to concentrate on her words in the here and now to explain, "the way Voldemort mentioned his faithful servant at school, I just thought that he wouldn't be such a coward as turning tail the moment his mark burned like that."

Moody stared at Harry for a long time before whispering it had been he who had done that.

A moment ago, Remus had been convinced there wasn't anything else this book could do to him that would be harder to process than hearing about James and Lily having to help Harry escape Voldemort as ghosts. Why did he keep getting proved wrong?

"I-you-what now?" Sirius leaned over and glared at the little print like he was expecting Moony to have played some dumb joke.

Harry should have felt too exhausted mentally and physically after the turmoil of Voldemort's return had all come back, but he had no say as the feeling slammed back into him full force, one he was all too familiar with now. The pain of an important returning memory, how his breaths began hitching and he groaned, "he's not lying, but he's-" he cut himself off with a noise of utter frustration before he could go too far and keep hurting himself more.

James first instinct was to argue, to tell Harry that he'd misheard Alastor Moody claiming to have been any part of this, but James quickly shoved that part of him back down because he knew he'd always believe Harry first. If his son was actually remembering that somehow, someway the acclaimed Auror had gone Death Eater, James would just have to find some way to wrap his head around this as surely as he had done for Peter, because how could Harry be so wrong about something like that. James quickly waved a stunned Remus on, because in spite of the fact none of them could think this for even a moment of yet another Order member, let alone this one, Harry was in pain, and the only way to make that better was to hear the details why.

Harry heard, but did not understand. He tried to protest, but Moody assured it had all been him. His normal eye was fixated on Harry, as well as his wand, while his magical one still lingered on the door.

Harry could feel his brain thudding against his skull in pain and confusion. His eyes hadn't been deceiving him, Mad-Eye Moody was aiming a wand in his face for the express purpose of causing him harm, to kill him...but not! This was by far the most confusing moment he'd ever been faced with yet, because everything in him had been trying to warn him something was bad about this, and yet at the same time he wanted to scoff and say there wasn't a better Auror. His skull felt likely to split in two all over again at such conflicts.

Moody was still focused on the Death Eaters, demanding to know if they'd really been forgiven? Those that had escaped Azkaban?

"Least I can vaguely see why Moody would be pissed about that," Remus muttered, just trying to find one little bit of anything he could wrap his head around, all the while as tense as a board at having to hear about a teacher attacking Harry for the fourth bleeding year in a row!

Harry couldn't do anything but gape now, sure this was all a bad joke.

"No, Vernon's Japanese Golfer Joke is a bad joke, this is-" Sirius was rubbing the heel of his hand into his forehead in frustration for lack of words for what this was.

No one could deny Harry that claim though, they were all still wishing this was somehow a bad joke, that Snape was hiding in the corner and using the Imperius Curse on Moody to make him say all of this, anything seemed more plausible than what they were hearing.

Moody repeated his question, demanding if Voldemort had really forgiven those scum had been forgiven when they'd run from his Dark Mark in the sky.

Harry was more confused than ever, because he was as confident it hadn't been Moody to do such a thing as he had been about Winky...but somehow this still felt like the truth as it settled back inside of him...he was starting to tremble all over again at all of these conflictions.

Harry was still trying to feebly protest all of this, while Moody barked that he'd told Harry so. He couldn't stand a free Death Eater, those who had turned their backs on his master when he'd needed them.

Lily had thought Peter referring to Voldemort as his master had hit her limits of unbelievable, but if there was one person she never would have thought it any more capable of calling Voldemort master, it was Alastor!

He all but begged Harry to tell how they'd been punished, his face now alight with insanity.

"That about covers this situation, insane," James was nodding his head so hard he was likely to snap his own neck, just for some movement that was still familiar and ordinary and not making his world shatter with every new thing Harry was dealing with lately!

When Harry still refused to believe this, Moody went on a rampage of how all of this had been his hard work! He'd tricked the Goblet of Fire and put Harry's name in under a different school.

Sirius was getting tired of monologues. First Voldemort, now this gone off the rails hero of the Order, Sirius wasn't going to be able to take much more of all of these people explaining themselves before he lost it and tried shoving his head in the fire, without floo powder, just for some relief from it all.

He'd frightened away every person who'd stood in the way of Harry's winning.

"Great, now I'm picturing Moody chasing Malfoy down the hallways to stop him bothering Harry this year," Remus sighed under his breath, well aware there was some hysteria bleeding into even that whispered comment for his even pretending this was normal and something to be made fun of.

He'd convinced Hagrid to show Harry the dragons, and helped Harry how to get past them!

Lily was opening and closing her mouth repeatedly like that would somehow make understanding this easier. It wasn't.

Moody's magical eye had now left the door. It was fixed upon Harry. His lopsided mouth leered more widely than ever.

At this point Sirius was just trying to work it in his head that this wasn't Moody at all! Maybe he'd lied about receiving that eye injury just so he could have it in this school, and this was an imposter...but no. That didn't explain a damned thing except to try and convince his mind not to melt coming to terms with all this.

Moody begroaned how hard his task had been guiding Harry through all of this. He'd had to use every last shred of cunning he had not to be found out and make Dumbledore suspicious, as he couldn't let Harry have too easy a time.

"Well then your plan worked great, since Harry hasn't had an ease of any of them!" James proudly got out with only minimal continued hysterics.

But so long as Harry had made it to the maze, preferably with a head start, then Moody knew Harry would get there once he got the other champions out of the way. Still, he'd had to deal all year with his stupidity.

Harry was sure that warmth was the last thing he'd ever be feeling while his life was being threatened by a madman, but there was indeed a slight smile on his face watching the others huff indignantly at calling Harry stupid at a time like this. Considering the circumstances he'd been forced into, they were all beyond impressed at his ability to cope with all of this. Harry's smile didn't linger long enough to erase the pain of his internal body at war trying to understand everything he was hearing coming from Moody's voice, but so wrong in every other way, but for just a moment he was reminded of where he was and it helped.

The second task had been the worst and he'd had to slip him a hint, using Cedric for that.

"I really wish I could have sat in on that conversation," Remus sighed, "I just can not imagine how that was worded to make...Mad-Eye innocent of offering help." It felt odd referring to him as that for the first time, but calling him Mad-Eye was somehow different enough from the Moody he knew it made the sentence tolerable.

He'd known Cedric would return the favor, as decent people were so easy to manipulate.

Lily felt like she was fixing to snap any moment, still so tensed and stressed from Harry having to be in front of Voldemort this night, now yet again her world view had been kicked to the curb with yet another trusted friend acting like a complete and utter lunatic, and still it all revolved around Harry. Why couldn't he have just been able to go to the Hospital Wing before all this madness around him had to kick in again, just give him five minutes of peace!

It had been maddening to watch Potter struggle through this challenge, when he'd planted the clue from the very beginning, having given Longbottom those books about Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean.

Harry groaned and let his head flop back against the couch, entirely sick of all those little details he knew he should have been paying attention to getting passed over through his swiss brian. Yet even now he wasn't kicking himself as much as he normally would have, because somehow mentioning Neville was pushing Harry more firmly every minute into believing something wasn't right with this. Something about Neville, and this man...but Moody had never done anything to Neville, of that he was sure...

Moody had been so sure Potter would be begging everyone for help, and Longbottom could have told him in an instant, but that stupid streak of independence had nearly ruined everything.

Sirius hummed in agreement with that, but unlike Moody he hardly found it a fault. The Marauders had been the same way, hardly discussing anything outside their group of friends, at least things of such importance as this. Even in the Order, they were reluctant to share at group meetings, preferring to only tell Dumbledore, and Sirius was now quite thankful for that, it was starting to feel like he couldn't trust anyone who wasn't in this room.

Instead Moody had improvised, remembering Harry mentioned his house-elf friend at the Yule Ball, so he'd summoned Dobby to where he and McGonagall had been speaking about the next task, and wondering if Potter would use gillyweed.

James nearly broke his glasses he was rubbing so hard at the bridge of his nose in frustration, remembering back and realizing they'd never even questioned that too much, just the natural act of house-elves hearing everything that went on in that school, and now just feeling like a fool for missing yet another thing.

Moody's wand was still pointed at Harry's heart, while over his shoulder his Foe-Glass was taking shape.

Remus felt his voice finally pick up just a tiny fraction of hope again. He just couldn't process yet another trusted person from the Order doing this to them, but one thing he could get behind was however the hell Harry had gotten away from this. Any enemy to Moody who was moving around in that Foe-Glass could only be a good thing for Harry, right?

Moody was still talking about the second task, how long he'd been in the water and nearly ruined everything, but thankfully Dumbledore had marked him high for that nobility and Moody had breathed again.

Moody had breathed again.

"Don't worry, I'll fix that very soon," Sirius snarled under his breath. Moody was going to lose a lot more than an eye and part of a nose when Sirius got his hands on him no matter how much it hurt him to try and figure out what the hell had happened to the famous Auror.

Then he slid into chatting about the next task, telling Harry he'd had a very easy time in there thanks to him. He'd been using his magical eye to wipe out anything in Harry's way, and he'd Stunned Fleur, while also using the Imperius Curse on Krum to take out Diggory.

Harry muttered something harshly under his breath about his stupid, useless brain. He'd been right before, wandering around those hedges and thinking how this was too easy, and yet never could he have predicted this.

"How did nobody see him doing that?" Remus snarled, only feeling slightly better they clearly hadn't been the only ones who hadn't seen one tiny bit of this all year.

Sirius quietly reminded Moony of nonverbal spells, it wasn't that hard to picture Moody keeping as out of the way as possible and sneaking all of this in while all attention had been focused on the champions, most likely Harry and Cedric. As for how the spells had gotten through that hedge...well that could be argued about later when they weren't having to hear about this madness.

Harry couldn't understand how any of this was possible, how Dumbledore's friend the famous Auror could be a Death Eater...

"Of that we can agree," Lily murmured, running her hand up and down Harry's spine to chase away the goosebumps she could feel there. Harry was clearly in monumental pain from remembering all this, and she couldn't blame him, it was too much of a shock to still be real.

Instead of having to watch those horrifying mismatched eyes, Harry again glanced at the Foe-Glass, where three shapes were clearly moving now. Moody saw none of this, both eyes still fixated on Harry.

Remus groaned and muttered something under his breath about how the Moody they knew would never have stood for this. Even flipping around to this twisted version of the Order's backbone shouldn't have caused him to become so careless.

Moody dragged his attention back by whispering that if the Dark Lord had failed to kill Harry, then he'd have that honor.

"Well he's never going to, so he can just chalk up that loss right now," James snarled, if there was one thing he could still believe in every time, it was that his son would win this.

Dreaming to himself the rewards he'd get when his master found out.

"Actually I imagine he'd be a wee bit pissed," Sirius snapped, "considering he told all his other Death Eater scum not to do the same."

"Here's hoping Harry doesn't have to sit in on that conversation," Remus shuddered, it was vile enough trying to picture that rat hanging around Voldemort, Moody doing so truly was far past unthinkable.

Moody had done the best of them all, he'd delivered Harry Potter. He'd be treated like a son!

Harry could feel his head swimming in a detached kind of way...something about a son, it had seemed very important to him he remember something about a son all year...

Moody continued in this way, whispering about how much he and the Dark Lord had in common, both of their fathers had been so disappointing.

James could feel the ice permeating his brain making him think a few moments later than he should have that this didn't sound right, Moody had emulated his father in every way- but by the time it registered how odd that sentence was Remus had kept going, and James put it down to one too many curses had driven Moody as insane as apparently the Longbottoms had become.

Both of them had suffered the indignity, of being named after their fathers.

Sirius ruffled up his brows, thinking that Moody's dad had been named David,* not Alastor. So unless Moody was simply badgering on about having to share a last name, he really had no idea what that raving bit could mean.

And both of them had the pleasure of killing said fathers.

Lily could feel her mouth stretching wide without understanding, but horror. She didn't know much about Moody, but she never could have imagined anyone who wasn't as loony as Voldemort saying that with any kind of pleasure.

Moody cackled then, raising his wand to strike at last, and while Harry plunged his hand into his robes for his own wand-

Remus was so tense and uneasy by the end of this he was sure his voice was going to fail from overuse any second. This was just too much back to back madness for all of them to not be considering running from the room any moment now screaming.

but never got the chance as the door was blasted open using Stupefy.

James shook his head hard to forcibly rid himself of the image of Moody holding a wand to his son's face like that, and instead just watched that stupid little book desperately so that he could finally hear something good happen.

The door of Moody's office was blasted apart -

Lily was more concerned than anything Harry hardly seemed relieved his rescue had arrived, he was still watching nothing of this room, his eyes far away and something so clearly wrong with his visage she just knew something else was fixing to happen.

Moody was thrown into the wall, and Harry watched Dumbledore, Snape,

Sirius didn't even have enough of himself left to make a snide comment about Snape being there.

and McGonagall enter.

Harry watched his headmaster with a look of awe, for the first time understanding why Voldemort would fear this wizard. He carried an aura Harry had never seen before, a fiery presence that radiated the whole room.

Remus nodded absently to himself. He'd only seen that expression once himself when Dumbledore had been in combat, and it was something you didn't forget.

Dumbledore and Snape came towards the other teacher, while McGonagall flitted to Harry's side.

Lily forced herself, muscle by muscle, to relax again. Finally thinking Harry was going to get out of there, McGonagall would see to it he'd get looked after, surely she hadn't gone off the rocker as well!

She tried to coax Harry to his feet, whispering about the hospital wing while blinking back tears-

The worst part for James was that he wasn't even sure what had finally pushed his old head of house into that, he knew he could count over a dozen things that he could feel trying to leak out of his eyes right now.

but Dumbledore cut her off with a no.

"No?" Lily repeated just as sharply, but with a lot more promise of violence. "What does he think he means, no? Hasn't he been through a bloody enough already, does he really need to interrogate him right now!"

Remus sat there in fear for his own life, Lily really needed someone to take out her anger and frustration on and he was the one holding the book, but surprisingly enough Harry cut her off with a gentle arm around her shoulder, his eyes vacant as he whispered, "trust me, it's a good thing I stayed, it'll mean something here in a moment."

Lily deflated, not convinced one bit about this, but willing to hold herself back and see why Dumbledore at least wanted to detain Harry a little longer from some actual help.

McGonagall tried to protest he'd been through enough-

There had been several moments where James had wanted to go hug his old transfiguration teacher, and now was certainly one of them. He'd always made sure to give her less hell whenever she showed that compassionate side to Remus, letting him skip his homework that week because he'd been too sick to even attend class that day.

but Dumbledore insisted he needed to understand what had just happened, only then could he truly recover.

"Okay, yes, I'll give Dumbledore that one." Remus said mostly to himself as he could see the logic in that, even if his first instinct as well was to haul Harry out of there already and somewhere actually safe.

Harry tried to tell what Moody had told him, but Dumbledore replied this was not Alastor Moody.

James felt his face squidge up with absolute confusion, and relief. What on earth could he mean, not Moody, but also, thank Merlin! He didn't even care what the reason was anymore, finally something that didn't feel like his future was hell.

Alastor Moody would never take Harry away at a time like this, so Dumbledore knew something had been wrong, and followed.

Sirius could feel himself tensing up in confusion and unease at that, wondering at Dumbledore and just how long he'd been following Harry, how long he'd known he'd been in danger before he struck...and what on earth Dumbledore was even talking about. The real Moody? How could anyone switch places with Alastor Moody and get away with it? And this had to have been happening on and off all year, which meant that somehow both a fake and real Moody had been going around school and no one noticed? This was getting as confusing as a Death Eater Moody!

Dumbledore turned to his true teachers and asked Snape to go and fetch his strongest Truth Potion, and Winky.

"What on earth does he want Winky for?" Lily demanded as she ran her hand through her hair. In combat it certainly made sense to follow orders without question, but couldn't he explain why while telling them?

Then asking McGonagall to go to Hagrid's where a black dog was in the pumpkin patch,

Sirius perked up with interest at that, no one needed to ask who that could be referring to, but it was an interesting side point that Sirius was in Hagrid's garden of all places. Could that possibly mean he could hear the screams and shouts going on in the Quidditch pitch? What on earth was going through his mind right now, this was even worse than him being in the mountains and having no clue, because a Sirius who heard screaming and could think for even a second his godson was in trouble was a dangerous Padfoot.

and asked the dog to be escorted to his office, then to return here.

If either Snape or McGonagall found these instructions peculiar, they hid their confusion.

"Does McGonagall know about you then?" Remus cocked his head to the side. Sirius really wasn't the most important part of what was going on, but this was certainly a new enough development it warranted questioning. "You think Dumbledore told her everything?"

"I like to think so," James sighed, "one more person who wouldn't kill him on sight is certainly a good thing."

"Thanks Prongs," Sirius muttered, but it did indeed put a small smile on his face for even a moment that she didn't think all that terrible stuff of him anymore.

They left, and Dumbledore turned his attention to the unconscious man now, riffing through his pockets and coming up with a key ring. He moved to the trunk which had seven locks, and fitted the first key into place, opening it to find old spells books, and broken Sneako-scopes. He closed the lid, put another key in place, and opened it again to find an Invisibility Cloak.

"Cool," James muttered to himself. He'd heard about trunks like this, but normally people hid the individual keys in several different locations so one person couldn't have access to the full trunk. It was yet another slip on this carless, imposter Moody that James was going to enjoy for as long as it lead him to what was really going on.

Dumbledore continued this way until he reached the last lock, and when he threw it open this time, Harry was looking into a pit which contained Mad-Eye Moody.

Remus had to pause there. Of all of their disbelief and confusion at what Moody was doing, this was still somehow weirder even while they all let out a collective sigh of relief that they had been wrong. Who on earth had been able to do this, and how had they been getting away with it for any length of time? Remus would have happily sat around and dissected this for hours, but Lily was already recovering her shock and waving him on frantically, she'd let herself feel the best relief when Harry was finally being taken care of properly. He'd seen enough in one night to last him a lifetime.

Harry stared from the one on the floor to the one in the trunk, the latter of whom was clearly unconscious and heavily starved with a bald patch in his grizzled hair. Dumbledore removed the cloak from the one on the outside, and lowered himself to the other, covering him and checking him over. Stating he was unconscious, but in no immediate danger.

He came back out and went to the first Moody again, this time finding his hip flask, which he dumped on the ground to find what looked like mud. Dumbledore realized it was Polyjuice Potion.

"Merlin's pants," James just kept shaking his head like that would help all of this to make sense. The one question he just couldn't get over was how anyone had done this? To another person, to Alastor?

Dumbledore murmured to himself how ingenious the plan was, this imposter had been taking it frequently and no one would be the wiser, Moody was well known for his hip flask. That's where the bald patch on the trunk Moody came from, this man would have had to keep him on hand to continue using his hair for the potion. Perhaps though, with the excitement of everything tonight, he had not taken his hourly dose...

Harry could feel himself finally starting to understand where all of his confusion had come from, if perhaps he'd ever met the real Moody of course his brain would have trouble understanding the difference between the two, but the relief was short lived as his mind kept insisting the biggest surprise was still yet to come. He was also trying to suppress the urge to retch at the idea of doing that for a whole year, taking one dose had been an absolute pain on him.

The time passed in silence, until finally the change began. His skin began bubbling, and then smoothing over so that it was no longer the lined scared features. The leg regrew, popping the peg free. Instead of the grizzled hair, it smoothed and turned fair, the nose filling out, as well as the eye popping out of socket.

"Ew," Lily crinkled her nose at the thought of wearing a fake eye in general, now she realized it was someone else's!

Harry was looking upon Crouch's son from the Pensive.

"No way," Sirius had his head cocked to the side and eyes narrowed in unease at the book. Sirius had claimed to see this very same person die in Azkaban, surely he wasn't so mad he couldn't have exaggerated that distinction. If he had broken out in some other way, it most likely would have been mentioned, it's not as if this mystery person was wearing two layers of enchantments to conceal his appearance.

Snape and McGonagall had returned then, both yelping in shock upon seeing Barty Crouch.

Harry finally felt the release of pain he'd been feeling all year, could finally see and understand and felt that huge weight lift off.

"What-no-Crouch vanished ages ago, this is-" James eyes nearly fell out of his head as he repeated to himself, "the kid who was named after him, no way!"

"That's what he meant earlier," Lily shook her head in disbelief, "whoa, so does that mean, did he actually kill his own dad?"

Sirius was just sitting there like a stunned fish, none of this was making any sense to him. That guy was supposed to be dead, there was just no way he could be out and about doing all of these terrible things to his pup, and apparently for months!

Remus was selfishly glad Dumbledore had kept Harry around for all of this now, he'd be going crazy if he didn't get some kind of details about how all of this had been done, and hoped Snape would get on already with whatever that truth potion had been for.

Behind them, Winky confirmed as much by shrieking in shock about what Master Barty was doing here?

"Yeah, he should be dead," Sirius repeated aloud what he kept thinking in his head, there was just no way he could have gotten a detail so wrong.

She slumped to the floor and began sobbing about how they had killed her Master!

"Sadly we haven't gotten to that part yet," James sneered, this was still the man who'd been doing all of these terrible things to Harry, and while James was happier than anyone it wasn't actually Moody, he still wanted someone's head on a spit for putting his son through this.

Dumbledore soothed her he was just stunned.

"Why is she even there?" Lily asked of no one, "she hasn't seen him since before, Merlin I don't even know at this point if he ever was dragged into Azkaban or what's going on, but I can't see why her being there is helpful."

"There's a lot of explaining that needs to be done," Remus agreed.

Snape stepped forward then and handed Dumbledore a small vial full of clear liquid, the Veritaserum which he'd threatened Harry with.

James muttered some foul comment under his breath about how even that had felt like a simpler and more bearable problem than what they'd been listening to these past few hours.

Dumbledore force fed this to Crouch, and then used Enervate.

Crouch came back to life in a calm state, his voice monotone when he answered Dumbledore's question he could hear them. Then he was asked how he'd gotten out of Azkaban?

"Starting with the important stuff at least," Sirius shivered at the mention of that place again, his mind still floundering to understand why this hadn't been front headline news.

Crouch's voice remained flat as he stated it had all been his mother's doing. She was dying, and as her last wish she'd begged her husband to save their son, he'd agreed. They'd come to visit him with Polyjuice Potion, and swapped places.

"He, Crouch- no way that he-" Lily could feel something restricting her mind from getting out a full sentence of disbelief at Crouch having done this for his son, for his wife. There was a good cause somewhere in there of the parents saving their child, but clearly this Jr. shouldn't have been given it, considering the way he'd been speaking of Voldemort moments ago, there was no longer any doubt in her mind that he had in fact deserved where he'd been.

any doubt in her mind that he had in fact deserved where he'd been.

Winky was sobbing harder than ever, begging Barty to stop, he was getting his father into trouble.

"I'm going to strangle that elf myself if it doesn't shut up," Sirius snapped, in no mood to hear an elf try to protect its master with whatever loony thing they had done.

She was ignored, as Crouch told how the blind dementors had not known the difference. They'd sensed one healthy and sick person leaving, and entering. Even the prisoners had never watched the swap, didn't know the difference.

James couldn't help it, he felt another blow torment him as he realized he would have done the same thing for Sirius in a heartbeat to get him out of there, but this scumbag of a Death Eater had been granted this while Sirius had no one.

His mother had died in that place, she'd brought just enough along to pass in there and been buried as him.

Everyone's mouth flopped open in horror as they realized just how long Crouch had to have been out of there then, not even as recently as just this year!

The joke slid out of Sirius' mouth before he'd even processed it, "wait, so I'm not the first one to get out of there then?"

Remus slapped him upside the head, hard, for that one. Giving him such a nasty look for the poor joke Sirius didn't even complain as he rubbed at the spot.

Then his own mother's funeral had been staged, her casket an empty grave. The house-elf had nursed him back to health.

"I still can't get my head around- how long ago did this happen?" Remus demanded of no one as he tried to figure out how much damage Crouch had done by supposedly helping his child.

Lily felt her throat trying to force out an insane giggle, her arm tightening around Harry more every second as she gasped out, "oh my goodness, do you realize what we're even hearing? Crouch, bloody Bartemius Crouch, went and did the most illegal thing I've ever heard of in my life!"

"I think I preferred him with the stick up his arse," Sirius sneered.

Then he blinked in concern when he watched James temper snap as he howled in outrage, "are you telling me Crouch got his son out of Azkaban, after what he did to Sirius! To all of those people he threw in that place, but he bloody turned into the definition of a hypocrite and smuggled that demented little spawn out!"

Remus was growling low in his throat as he realized what all James meant. They'd realized Crouch had been playing by his own rules, deciding who should and shouldn't be allowed certain privileges and dishing out uses of the Unforgivable curses being done while punishing anyone who did the same without his permission. This was a far worse step up in Crouch taking the law into his own hands! It was disgusting that such a man had ever been allowed to go this far, but with the safe comfort in mind that thankfully Crouch hadn't gotten away with this yet, Remus forced himself to keep going past all the terse mutters of outrage.

Then Jr. had to be put under control so that he couldn't return to his old ways.

James felt the cruel joke curling his tongue about how he'd have let him go crawling back to Voldemort, see what kind of reward he'd get. That trial was playing over in his head again, about how pathetic that kid seemed now trying to desperately prove he hadn't been a part of anything and all his comments about how he hated those Death Eaters who had escaped Azkaban when he'd been forced in as well blubbering like a baby. See how Voldemort took that kind of dedication!

He'd used the Imperius Curse,

"I see now why he was so lenient on letting Aurors use them," Lily sneered, "he clearly had no moral problems of using them himself."

and now lived under an Invisibility Cloak so that no one would ever know of his existence. The house-elf became his keeper, and she'd been kind to him, always trying to persuade his father to give him treats.

Winky was still trying to protest every bit of this, telling him to stop getting himself into trouble.

"Glory how I wished I owned Winky right now," Sirius' lip was curling in the worst way, "she'd look lovely with my mother's others." He'd hated his own house-elf the most for a long time, but any creature so willing to help this piece of work was at least on level with his own. Winky was clearly doing her masters work with pride, helping out this monster who had done harm to so many.

When he ended there, Dumbledore asked if anyone besides his father and Winky knew of this?

Crouch's eyes gained a small flicker of life as he whispered Bertha Jorkins.

"You have got to be kidding me," James dead panned as suddenly so much of that made sense.

"This is the memory charm that was placed on her that screwed up her memory," Sirius shook his head, "and Crouch put it on her, to hide his bleeding kid. Is there anything illegal this one hasn't done?"

"I'm picturing him talking about his law abiding ancestors who respected carpet laws all rolling in their graves," Remus agreed.

She'd come over one night to get Crouch's signature, but had instead heard Winky talking to the invisible Jr., Bertha had gathered what it all meant, and Crouch had placed a powerful memory charm on her to forget it all, but it had permanently damaged her mind.

Lily was shaking her head pitifully at all of this, disgust with Crouch waring with what had happened to Bertha. She hadn't done a thing to deserve being the foil of so many more powerful wizards treating her like that. At this point she really couldn't see how Crouch was any better than the Dark wizards he claimed to be putting away.

Dumbledore switched topics to the Quidditch Cup.

"How did he know about that?" Remus' eyes narrowed shrewdly, "Crouch mentioned that before Dumbledore got there."

"Either he was listening at the door," Sirius had a frown in place as he didn't like that option one little bit, it implying Dumbledore had actually been standing by while this had been happening to Harry. Surely at least McGonagall hadn't stood for that- "or he put it together himself somehow." He finished his first thought out loud to force himself to stop that depressing trail.

Both options left much to be desired, but it was all they could think of right now, when all they wanted to be thinking of was this night being over for Harry already. They still would claim they would have waited for these answers when Harry was less vulnerable.

Crouch's monotone voice continued explaining how Winky had convinced his father to go, he'd been under the spell for years now and his mother hadn't died for him to remain in prison. He finally agreed,

"Crouch's empty seat actually was filled by a Crouch," Remus muttered to himself, though it didn't help one bit that he grasped this mere moments before he'd be explaining it himself. It did slightly help that no one could have seen this coming! Who on earth would suspect a dead person of these deeds! Especially Crouch's son of all people.

and Jr. took Crouch's supposed seat in the Top Box while the man himself didn't make an appearance. What no one knew was that Jr. was growing stronger, and starting to fight the Imperius Curse.

Harry shivered in disgust, he didn't want to imagine how long it would take a man to have to be under such a powerful curse to begin to fight it off, but it did stump him slightly as he realized that the same man who had been so magically gifted to Confound an object like the Cup couldn't throw this curse off sooner than years. Still, Harry was finally breathing easy again, at having all of this explained to him. Not at peace, he knew he wasn't going to be getting anywhere close to that feeling again for some time, but his mind was certainly more bearable to be in now.

He'd had a moment of clarity that night, seeing a wand stick out of a boys pocket, and he'd taken it.

James buried his face in his fingers now, never having believed he could hate a Quidditch World Cup like he was this one, where seemingly nothing good had come of it! Their one true moment of adolescent fun this year even seemed to be sour when looked back on.

Winky had seen nothing with her face hidden the whole time.

Winky was murmuring into her fingers now about what a bad boy he'd been.

"Bad boy?" Lily parroted in disbelief. "I think he deserves a bit more than that!" She was steadily growing more red in the face with anger the more she heard about everything Crouch's son had done all because of his father. He could have gotten Harry into real trouble even before his plot to kill him!

That night when the other Death Eaters had been out Muggle baiting, he'd thrown off his curse entirely. Those were the ones who'd evaded Azkaban, who had the gall to be free and not seek their master.

James snarled in disgust at hearing this little scum prattling on about those other Death Eaters not being as good as him. He never could even imagine wanting to please Voldemort, but the idea of so many of his followers treating this like a contest of who could gain him more favor made the idea almost laughable in the worst way.

So Jr. had forged out of the tent with the purpose of doing something about it, but Winky had tried to stop him, dragging him into the forest instead, the duo struggling the whole way through the trees.

Harry was muttering obscenities under his breath about that night, about all of this and how he should have put all of this together, to warn those around him. If only he could have just gotten something more than a bad feeling, he could have warned them of so many things to come.

Instead what he'd done when he realized he couldn't get away from her, was use his stolen wand and cast the Dark Mark. When the Ministry had arrived, the Stunning Spells had gotten him, and the bond between he and Winky had been broken.

"And Crouch found his kid under the invisibility cloak where Winky was," Sirius groaned as he rubbed at his temple. Merlin this was the sneakiest thing he'd ever heard in his life, such a complicated plot that honestly made him want to go back and relook at the whole thing just to see what other details they'd missed, and hit himself over the head with every one. How many times had that fake Moody probably let slip what was really going on, and they hadn't caught a bit?

Winky had been sacked for the near miss, and Jr. had been put back under the Imperius Curse.

"That does make getting rid of Winky all the more confusing though," Lily cocked her head to the side. "It's not her magic that was holding the Imperious curse, it was his. Was he really blaming her for his magic beginning to slip."

"Clearly he'll blame his mistakes on anyone but himself while trying to bury them in the process," James scoffed.

Then it was just the two of them when his master came.

Harry shivered at the idea, of Voldemort showing up on someone else's doorstep all because Wormtail was helping him along at that point, because Wormtail had gotten another innocent person killed and now Crouch's son was free and Voldemort would return.

He'd arrived with Wormtail,

At this point Remus was full of so much hatred for what he was reading he was having a hard time finding any more for just speaking the name of that vermin. Maybe it was finally acceptance for what had happened to him and some way to move on, but more likely he was just so consumed with everything else going on he'd go back and hate on him in particular later.

because he'd gained all of Bertha Jorkins information. His father had been the one to answer the door.

James wrapped his hands around the back of his neck, straining his muscles to their breaking point as he tensed up in pain for having to relive all what had happened to her again, all because of what Peter had done. Still he couldn't help but wonder if he felt anything for what he'd done to someone he'd once known? Bertha hadn't deserved a moment of the amount of torture she'd endured to be the key to this plan any more than Sirius had deserved to serve his crimes all those years ago, and still he was right at it.

Now a smile really was lighting his placid features, while Winky began rocking in place but now too appalled to speak.

Lily was too, but for a completely different kind of appalled at everything that had gone into nearly getting her son killed.

Like the flip of a switch, Crouch had been placed under the Imperius Curse, and the real servant was free to act how he'd always wanted to. His master had commanded Crouch to go back to his daily life as if nothing had happened.

"Irony," Remus nodded absently to himself, as every instance of Crouch being sick suddenly made him realize he was just at home because Voldemort couldn't make that Imperius curse believable enough to Crouch's normal behavior. It even occurred to him in that moment that, when they'd all believed him to be sick and creeping around the castle in Snape's office, that had in fact been this other Crouch with the same name. He began offering up charms and ways to improve their map in the back of his mind as he forced himself to keep going so this mistake wouldn't happen again, it was easier to be thinking about than having to read the ravings of this madman.

Dumbledore quietly asked what Voldemort had asked him to do?

"I think at this point it's obvious," Sirius snarled, sick of listening to this psychopath having gone on for so long now, and just wanting to usher Harry out of there.

He'd been asked if he was ready for the hardest task of his life, and Jr. agreed at once. It had been his life's ambition to serve such a purpose for his master.

Sirius felt bile sitting in the back of his throat, just waiting to come loose the second he tried to make some comment about this mess no matter how much he wanted to mock any being delusional enough to think all that.

He'd been told the plan, how his master needed a faithful servant at Hogwarts to make the year's events come to pass. First they needed one other person.

Lily began twirling a strand of hair around her finger again tight enough to make it hurt as she remembered back to all of their comments, teasing and poking Remus that he should have been there again this year, and suddenly selfishly grateful it hadn't been him. She had no clue what would happen if someone tried to use a Polyjuice Potion on him, but it was clear he would have been attacked and in some way removed, possibly worse, for this to have happened.

Dumbledore agreed they'd needed Alastor Moody. Even while he'd been listening, his eyes were ablaze no matter how calm his voice.

"I think Dumbledore's pissed this was going on under his crooked nose all year," James nodded to himself.

"You can not possibly blame him for this one," Remus shook his head in disbelief, "even with all of these details I can't begin to put together the insanity of this plan, let alone it actually working. The lengths Crouch's son had to go to to make all of this believable, and managed to dupe everyone for a whole year."

The others nodded their agreement, this was not the fault of anyone but Crouch, the pompous ministry git who better hope he stayed gone and mad. It was almost ironic as they realized what had really happened to him, he'd somehow broken his own Imperius Curse and come running for help, but he'd gone mad in the process of throwing off the magic. Most likely he really had wandered back off into the forest and been eaten...but then who attacked Krum? And when exactly had Junior killed his father?

They were getting too far ahead of themselves, and now hoping Dumbledore would think to question about all of this, Remus forced himself to keep going.

Once Jr. had assumed his new personality as Moody, tucked the real one away, and tricked Arthur Weasley into believing the whole thing that day, it had been easy enough to continue the farce. He'd stolen ingredients whenever he'd been running low for his potin, nicking the boomslang skin and when confronted, merely saying he'd been told to check the office.

Dumbledore asked what of Wormtail when he'd left, and Jr. explained he and his master had stayed in his father's house.

Hearing repeatedly about his role in this wasn't making it any better to say, let alone hear for any of them!

When Crouch tried to end again, Dumbledore prompted that Crouch had escaped.

Jr. kept going, explaining that he'd too thrown off his curse and tried to run for help, to warn what he'd done.

Sirius remembered back to how blood thirsty any mention of the rat made him, not hard as it was still lingering in him now at everything he'd still done to Harry this night, but suddenly wished for the first time he could find a way past it and work it under control. Maybe then he would have realized sooner past that rats name and understood what he'd done, how it could have been considered and helped them to understand a bit better.

His master had warned of the escape, and so he'd used the map he'd taken from Harry Potter to keep an eye on the castle.

"Bloody hell, that Death Eater is not using my map!" James snarled in outrage as he jumped to his feet. He'd been still too long, felt too many emotions for too long. He was storming around the room now as he reached a new level of rage, the pride he'd felt when he thought Moody had complimented him suddenly as tainted and twisted as everything Peter and he had ever done. His vision was starting to blur, this was too much in one sitting, to much to have to deal with day after day.

"I know Prongs," Remus commiserated with him, his mind working in the same wavelength and realizing every instance they'd ever appreciated having Moody around this year was tainted red because of his true purpose. Merlin's pants a Death Eater had been the first person to use that Imperius Curse on Harry! Then his mind really realized that it had been in fact this same bleeding Death Eater that helped Harry throw off the curse when faced with Voldemort. While Remus at least appreciated that, he saw how close he was to being done, and knowing they all needed to vent and get away a little because of too much information overload, he tried to soothe his friend by promising he was almost done and then he could scream and rant about this all he wanted.

Dumbledore was confused at the mention of the map,

"Hey look, I didn't tell Dumbledore about that last year," Sirius muttered to himself, remembering he was currently up in Dumbledore's office probably having his own panic attack up there because Harry still wasn't safe in his arms. He wanted this done as much as anything just for Harry to be free of this environment.

and so had to be explained of Potters map that saw everything, that nearly ruined everything. Potter had seen his name one night when he'd been in Snape's office, and so Moody had to trick him into why he'd really been in there, and Potter had never realized the name swapped.

"Don't you even," Lily whispered in Harry's ear as she saw how frustrated he was at having been so behind on all of this. "Not a damned thing of this is your fault, how were you to know better? In all honesty, I still would have believed that part was true even in light of all this new."

Harry sighed, not particularly agreeing this all wasn't somehow his fault. It was still his presence in school that had a Death Eater there this year, that had gotten Cedric killed...but for now he nodded to his mother and just waved for it all to be over.

When it did happen, he'd had the forewarning of that map to go down and try to catch his father first. He'd stunned Krum and killed his father.

"Whoa," Sirius did a double take on that one. "He actually killed killed him?" He hadn't realized this meant he'd literally struck the curse.

"He wasn't any more use to them," Remus was scowling down at the pages hatefully, if a little regretfully that's how he'd died without his crimes being shown for all, but loving the taste of this irony even more than the last. The person Crouch had gone to such lengths to get him out of Azkaban had been his own death in the end, as much as he deserved.

Winky began sobbing uncontrollably now, insisting this couldn't be so!

Sirius shook his head in disgust, he kept forgetting that stupid elf was there, that she'd had a hand in all of this all because she'd blindly followed along with whatever her master told her to do because she was too stupid to have a moral compass of her own and realize this was wrong. In fact a lot of this could be blamed on her, she'd been the one to get Crouch's kid discovered by Bertha for having such a fat mouth, she'd been the one trying to 'reward,' the bleeding lunatic by letting him go to the Cup. Winky's idiocies and lengths she went to help her masters truly was the downfall of this generation of wizards because it had all in a roundabout way given Voldemort his return.

Dumbledore asked what had been done with the body, and Jr. explained he'd hidden it away, then circled back and claimed Snape had sent him down there in the first place.

"Hey look, we got our answer to that!" James threw his hands up in exasperation. At some point all of these answers had clouded together in his brain and he couldn't process anything more than wanting to break someone's face already.

Then he'd come back and transfigured the body into a bone, before burying it in Hagrid's lawn.

Lily let out a squeal of disgust, scrambling back in her mind and trying to remember when Harry had been playing with the nifflers in Hagrid's yard, and how close her baby had been to another dead body! Having to watch Cedric's had been horrifying enough, but if his had happened twice in one year?! She only marginally relaxed, though the disgust still lingered, as she recalled this had all happened to Harry later in the day, after Hagrid's lesson.

Dumbledore wanted this completed, asking about tonight and that Triwizard Cup.

Jr. agreed he'd turned it into a Portkey,

Remus realized he had a few nagging questions and suspicions about the meaning of that, though he could think of a few answers offering themselves, he'd want to go over those in detail if he could ever think freely again.

and his master's plans had worked. He would be honored to his wildest dreams!

"Oh I'll see that you're honored alright," Sirius scowled hatefully.

That insane smile still lingered on his features as Winky wailed.

"Done," Remus moaned as he gave the book a nasty toss away from him, well beyond done with this day's events, and there still seemed to be some left to go.

HPHPHP

I've decided to add the 'discussion' of this book into the next chapter, Sunday. They really are going to want a break before the last 'bad' thing happens this book.

*Sorry that's the best kind of Dr. Who reference I could slip in. David Tennant is the name of the Dr. who, pun not intended there, played Jr. in the movies...

[karanna1]

Supergirl and Andrea are trapped by Leviathan and thrown into a cell together. They’re doing something to suppress Acrata’s powers and Supergirl blew out hers while fighting Leviathan. So they’re not going anywhere anytime soon. What could they possibly find to talk about as a way to pass the time?

The cell was clean, for that she could be grateful, but it was still a depressing grey color and dimly lit. There was nothing in it, not even a chair or a cot. From what Kara could tell, the walls were made of various alien metal alloys. The door must be 10 inches thick, not that it mattered. She’d solar flared after facing Rhama Khan and his minion knocked her unconscious. When she woke, she was still powerless and lying in this cell with none other than her boss and Lena’s friend, Andrea Rojas. The first hour passed in silence, probably mostly due to fear on Andrea’s part. But as the wait continued, boredom set in, and for Andrea, boredom seemed to be easier to focus on than fear.

“Since we’re stuck in here, we might as well find a way to pass the time before our untimely deaths,” she said, brushing some unseen dirt from her skirt.

They were sitting directly opposite each other on the floor, their backs to the uncomfortably cool metal wall.

“We’re not going to die,” Kara reassured in her most confident and level Supergirl voice. “I have friends that will help us. I promise, I will get you out of here safely.”

“Do you make a lot of promises you can’t keep?”

“What?”

“Just trying to figure something out...” she trailed off, tilting her head at her with just a little too much scrutiny. Kara shifted uncomfortably and turned away, looking down. “Okay, I have to ask...what on Earth did you do to Lena Luthor?”

Kara snapped back up. “Excuse me?” Her voice had gone up a few octaves.

She shrugged, tilting her head back against the wall. “I have never seen her show such concentrated rage before and we’ve known each other since we were teenagers.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Lena logged a lot of hours using Obsidian lenses,” she explained. “As in hundreds. Naturally, I was curious what she’d be using them for at such length. Knowing her, I guessed something to do with her experiments, running trials using VR would certainly speed up the process and take out years of work from the beginning stages. Wow, was I wrong. Every single simulation she ran was for sole purpose of hurting you.”

Kara frowned, swallowing hard.

“I mean, Lena’s incredibly creative, I always knew that, but the number of ways in which she assaulted you with such spectacular violence just blew my mind. It’s the kind of thing I’ve only seen from exes on our platform. Ex-husbands get the most horrific ones and almost always deservedly so. I have to know, Supergirl...what could you have possibly done to this Luthor, infamous for her use of icy revenge, to turn her into such a fiery ball of rage?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kara replied dully and got to her feet, arms crossed tightly.

“I’m talking about Lena spending hours upon hours violently beating the crap out of you in a myriad of different ways.”

Kara started pacing. Her jaw clenched.

“There was one where you flew her to some beautiful cliffside to show her the sunset and she kicked you in the chest so hard that you bounced off the mountain the whole way down, leaving a Supergirl shaped crater at the bottom. Another where you saved a family from a house fire, but as soon as they walked away, Lena doused you in gasoline and used a wrecking ball to knock you back into the burning building. The flames were wildly cool. But that’s how good our technology is, of course. Looks and feels like the real thing.”

“Enough!” She stopped and turned on her with a glare, nostrils flaring, made more obvious by how hard she was breathing.

But Andrea was unfazed. “Oh come on! My favorite, and seemingly a favorite of Lena’s as well with how often she ran it, is when you stop a school bus from hitting an adorable group of children. Lena drops some absolutely scathing remarks from what I can tell by your kicked puppy expression, and then she punches you in the face so hard that the force of it sends you flying backwards into the school bus, blowing it up!” She laughed. “God, that was fantastic. I was so disappointed we didn’t manage to recover the audio for any of them. Naturally, Lena customized everything and, despite her efforts to try to keep the footage private, she didn’t know about a little backdoor that we specifically coded into the software for emergency reasons so...lucky me, it’s all on our servers.”

“She...she did that?” Kara asked weakly, deflating. “For hours?”

Andrea nodded with another laugh. “Oh, it’s crazy. I’d be happy to show you them if we do get out of here alive.”

“No, thank you.”

“Suit yourself. But it was interesting to see how someone could get under Lena’s skin like this. Even at her most vulnerable with me, she never turned into...that. Lena shuts down, walls herself off, no emotions, no hurt, that sort of thing. With you...dear God! How did you manage to devastate her like that and yet she can’t even bring herself to hurt you in a virtual reality simulation?”

Kara’s face contorted in bewilderment. “What are you talking about? You just described a bunch of horrible ways that she...fake-killed me.”

“Well, it would have killed any human, of course. But you’re Supergirl. You’d shrug off any of those things. Everyone knows there’s only one thing on Earth that can kill a Super. Lena built each and every one of those simulations herself. She could have easily given herself a gun with Kryptonite bullets, empty the chamber into you, and watch you writhe in agony before you eventually died a horrible death. Or she could have used a sword with a Kryptonite blade and carved you up into tiny bloody pieces. Or—“

“I get it!” Kara cried, holding her hand out. “I get the point! Just stop.” She looked sick to her stomach as she leaned against the wall, head hung low.

Andrea raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think you do. Look, any first year psych major could see through it. Lena had every imaginable way available to make you suffer a long, torturous death a thousand times over in the simulations, but she never did. I don’t know why she bothered with VR when she could have achieved the same thing by putting a picture of your face on a punching bag. In the simulations, you’re always Supergirl. You’re always invulnerable. No matter how terrifically violent it was, no matter how much she seemed to want to hurt you, she couldn’t even manage it in a fantasy world. So tell me...who are you to her, Supergirl? You’re not exactly what I’d call her type, but she’s never been altogether predictable...”

“You’ve got it all wrong. That’s-that’s not—“

“Oh I’m right about this and you know it. You did something absolutely devastating to her, likely betrayed her somehow, and shattered her heart. Was it an affair? Ooooh, was it Kara Danvers? That would be deliciously terrible. Lena is clearly infatuated with that woman. Frankly, I don’t even know why she’d bother with you when she’s pining for Kara.”

“You need to stop. Lena is supposed to be your friend, show her some respect.”

“Am I hurting your feelings, Girl of Steel? You don’t sound very surprised by the mention of the best friend. If you didn’t have an affair with Kara then what did you do to send poor little Lena off into the deep end?”

She glanced at her before turning away. The silence stretched on so long that Andrea was about to give up on it altogether.

“I did betray her,” Kara admitted, barely above a whisper. “I regret it so much.”

Andrea hummed and nodded. “Been there.”

“She’s never going to forgive me, is she?”

“I don’t know what you did, but in my experience, likely not.”

Kara slid to the floor again. A picture of defeat.

“She was in love with you,” Andrea said, gazing at her curiously. “Did you at least know that much?”

“It wasn’t like—“

She scoffed, cutting Kara off. “Either you’re lying to me or you’re lying to us both.”

She blew out a breath and rubbed her forehead. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because I fell in love with her when we were 15. I know all the signs. We had quite a few stops and starts, but it never really fell into place. She loved me, but it wasn’t anything close to what I felt for her. I was always gutted by that, but even then, I still ended up being the one who broke her heart. Poor Lena. She just can’t win, can she? Everyone who loves her is doomed to betray her somehow. She probably thinks she’s cursed. The one person in the world who should never have to feel pain...and it’s all she gets.”

“You sound like you still love her.”

“I do. Always will. But take it from me, Supergirl, there’s no way back. Not with Lena.”

“I just...I can’t let myself believe that. There has to be a way.”

“Then you’ll die trying and she won’t thank you for it.”

Kara eyed her for a long moment.

“What did you do to betray her?”

Andrea gave her a rueful smirk.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

Kara was silent.

“Thought so.” She got to her feet and stretched. “Think your friends are going to break us out anytime soon or do I have time for a nap? Don’t want to die or be rescued with bags under my eyes.”

[sierraraeck]

Staying Hidden

BAU x OC Aundreya

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: Aundreya reveals everything that has been going on, and visits some of the team members in the hospital while trying to evade notice. Story eighteen.

Category: Angst.

Warnings: Cussing. Brief mention of sexual assault, drug use, and death.

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: I still know nothing about how gangs work, this is all for entertainment purposes.

I have some explaining to do.

My given name from birth was Clara Spade. If you recall, I grew up with divorced parents and a sorry excuse for a father. When I was 14, I witnessed a mass killing by one of the most infamous serial killers of all time, the Storefront Slaughterer. Somehow, I was spared, but my identity was soon leaked to the media, and my mom, sister, and I were put in witness protection. At this point, my identity was changed along with my name, which was now Cassy Sae. I don’t know how, and I never figured out when the Slaughterer caught wind of my whereabouts, but he did, and he followed me home one night. He burnt my entire home down, taking the remaining two members of my family with it. I jumped out of the back window, barely surviving until Agent Gideon found me and took me back to his isolated cabin house in practically the middle of nowhere. As the news reported, Cassy Sae died in that fire as well, the same day Aundreya Chambers came into existence already at the age of 15. I attempted to go back to school, live as close to a healthy and normal life as I could, but I let my rage get the best of me. I decided that I wanted to hunt down the man that took everything from me, dropping out of high school. I left Gideon, telling him that I couldn’t burden him anymore and had to do whatever came next for me on my own. He reluctantly let me leave, and I found myself on the streets of Chicago. There, in a small self defense gym I’d started frequenting after hours, I met a girl only a few years my senior named Xena. She befriended me and admired how quickly I was picking up on all of the concepts being taught, despite the fact that I never officially took a class, only watched thinking I was going unseen. Xena told me about a group of people who could help and protect me, and before I knew it, I was meeting a man in his early 50s who went by the name of Rafael. Little did I know that I had just been coaxed into joining one of the most feared and revered gangs in the northeast.

One of the first things I learned was how to make money in the form of dancing. It was also when I created the Alionth persona. I was one of the youngest members to have ever joined the Cloaks (I was almost 16 at the time but it was an unspoken agreement that I was now 18), and I picked up on most everything very quickly. I started out low in the ranks, mainly just dancing and drawing new members in or being a distraction while another operation was going on behind the scenes. At one point, I remember that an operation wasn’t going as planned and they needed information from a patron at the club. I wanted to help out and be a part of the ‘more important things’ so badly, that I took initiative without permission. I started performing for the patron, and pick-pocketed him in the midst of it. I returned to Xena, and another boy, with the information I’d gathered from his phone and wallet. It helped them complete their operation, and they were impressed with my skills, even though they were irritated I did it without permission. After that night, I started moving up the ranks. It was also that night that the boy I’d met earlier with Xena started using me. His name is Jamar, but most people know him by his last name, DeLeon. He was the 19 year old son of another revered gang leader. Rafael happened to be close friends with his father, and agreed to look after DeLeon after he died. Rafael also took in the members of that gang, which helped spike the power and ‘popularity’ (for lack of a better word) of the Cloaks. DeLeon and his rowdy friends were hard to control, so in order to appease them, Rafael essentially let them do whatever they wanted, as long as it didn’t hurt the Cloak name. The ‘Cloak name’ did not explicitly include Cloak members.

I was fresh, and had skills that apparently made me ‘special,’ so DeLeon and his boys decided I would be a great way to celebrate the success of that night. And ‘come on, you’re half the reason it went so well. Don’t you want to celebrate with us?’ This was also my first exposure to hard drugs. I was on and off them from here on out.

But beyond that, once I started to be recognized for my pick-pocketing abilities, and being able to track people down for information, I got moved to be a private informant for the gang, and I was damn good at it too. I spent the most time communicating my findings with Xena and DeLeon, so they became the closest people to me. In all of my free time, I looked for the Slaughterer. When I finally found him and asked Xena and DeLeon to help me set up a trap for him, they helped me without hesitation. It was my idea to tip off the FBI, which they were obviously hesitant about at first. But I convinced them that if we caught one of the FBI’s most wanted, and instead of hurting him turned him over to the FBI, it would make us look better to them and hopefully keep them off our asses. We discussed it with Rafael himself, and he thought that it was a good idea. I was surprised and relieved, and once the FBI had the Slaughterer in custody and everything went according to plan, it was enough to get me moved up to the rank of ‘Head of the PI unit.’ That’s when I started being known as The Figure. I was 18 at the time, and for a while I seemed untouchable. I was training other members, three of which were Sydney, Deen, and Corbyn, my three closest friends going into the ring, and we were finding people left and right. I scoped out traitors and infiltrators as a part of my lead job (that’s when I met Christina who was working with Derek at the time), and the gang seemed to be as strong as ever.

Then, one day, I found out that Xena Adaland is the granddaughter of Rafael Adaland, the gang’s leader. She, like DeLeon, was three years older than me, and was pissed that I was now higher in the ranks than she was. She challenged me for my PI spot, and the rules were simple. Whoever lost, would leave.

The day before the challenge, which would be a series of fighting, investigating, and persuasive tactics, Rafael came to me and told me that I had to win, no matter what it took. I was stunned, and even though I pushed for more information, he wouldn’t tell me why. Regardless, I did win, and Xena was forced to leave, and her grandfather let her. No, not just let her, he encouraged her. Once she left, I essentially became the replacement daughter to Rafael, which meant I was in even closer contact with DeLeon. Our relationship had always been very twisted, but once I was under more direct protection by Rafael, he almost completely stopped how he’d been treating me. Almost. I didn’t understand how fucked up it was at the time, but we even started dating once he started treating me better. However, there were bigger problems. The FBI was closing in on us, which I later found out was the reason why Rafael was okay letting Xena leave. He wanted her safe and away from this mess when it imploded. Rafael and I had been working closely side by side for a year now, and I could tell he was feeling like he had nothing left. Xena was gone, his life’s work of building a foolproof gang was collapsing, and DeLeon was slowly pulling away. He and I both knew that the FBI and police were looking for someone to blame, someone to go down for this, and only one of us was going to get out of this whole thing. He all but told me I had his blessing to screw him over and take the gang for myself. I was 19 and he was almost 60, so he knew that the one thing he might be able to leave was a legacy, one that I might be strong enough and smart enough to carry on. What he did tell me, was that what he was about to do was for me and for the rest of the gang, and that it would take the heat off of us, long enough for us to preserve what was left of the gang. For a while, I thought that he would be turning it over to Xena or DeLeon, but when it came down to it, it was me that he chose. I took it in stride and with honor.

That night, when Rafael ended up dead in his office, I fully understood what he was talking about before. If the FBI found the gang’s leader dead, they would have someone to blame, and the spotlight would no longer be on me or really any of the rest of the members. The gang would essentially collapse.

DeLeon had different ideas, though. He thought that I had killed Rafael, the closest thing to a dad he could remember, and was out for revenge. He returned to his old ways of treating me, and left me with a scar to prove it. I fought through all of that shit, knowing I still had a responsibility to protect and salvage the gang. I had to tell them to disperse and find me in a month or so when things had cooled down. I pushed the gang underground, and that was the start of the ring. Whoever could find me again would have passed the first test to see if they were worthy or not to be in my new ring.

Deen found me first, then Sydney, then Corbyn. Others came to me as well, either from the gang or outside of it with other skills that were desirable. I started going by the name Alionth, and the former gang got turned into my ring of elite criminals. I ran a tight ship underground until I was 21.

Xena had been marinating in anger since she lost to me, and decided to get back at me by hurting one of my best friends. She kidnapped Sydney while on a job, and threatened to hurt her if I didn’t show up. It had only been days prior that I met Sydney’s husband Todd and her newborn daughter, Jayana, who I ran into again on my second case with the team. I should have known it was a trap from the beginning, but I’d been getting cocky and wasn’t exactly thinking straight, due to the amount of drugs pumping through my system.

I showed up and was ambushed by both Xena and DeLeon, who explained to me that they’d found each other again after the Cloaks crashed. They bonded over their mutual hate for me, and decided to fuck me over together. They killed Sydney right in front of me, and then left just in time for the FBI to capture me and throw me in prison. If you remember, I was in there for four years from 21 to 24, and then I escaped. I ran right back to my ring, which accepted me with open arms. I was laying low for a while, and decided I’d let things cool off before taking the lead again. Before I could do that, though, I received an interesting visitor.

Agent Howard Archer came to visit me, and he wasn’t there to arrest me. He was there to hire me. He told me about the BAU and a certain unit chief he was not a fan of. He was just a step higher than Aaron Hotchner, and did not like the way he was running the BAU. Not to mention, Hotch was a threat to Archer’s position, and there was a potential competition between the two for the vice-presidency if something were to happen to the vice president. Archer wanted to ensure his future spot, and needed Hotch, and the VP, out of the way. He later informed me that another reason he had such a strong distaste for Aaron was because he failed to solve a case involving the murder of Archer’s son. I asked if he had a preferred way to get two FBI agents out of his way, and he told me he was familiar with my work and was prepared for whatever consequences followed. In other words, he would be satisfied with me killing the vice-president, and pinning it on Hotch.

He had me from the moment he introduced himself as an agent.

I went in to meet the team, which did not go as well as planned. Either way, I agreed to help Archer, and privately investigated each member after that first day. I knew Hotch from my past when I was still in contact with Gideon, but I didn’t think it would be as hard as it was. I thought that I could just come in, get the job done, and then move out. The problem was that there was an odd sense of loyalty to this man I’d met only a few times. It was odd, how he seemed to respect me, and he was even the first person (outside of Gideon and the people I worked with on the streets) that actually accepted my skills. I was one of the ‘bad guys’ from prison, but he always seemed to have some sort of appreciation for my information and willingness to work with him. There was just something about him that was calming, and each day I spent with the team, the harder it became for me to follow through. Aaron Hotchner was a natural born leader, and he was phenomenal at his job. Not to mention that the rest of the team, the rest of his family, really did care about him. I started questioning if I’d be able to tear apart this family, especially when I didn’t agree with Archer at all. Archer claimed that Hotch didn’t run the BAU well, but after spending time under his leadership, I totally disagreed. I also started building connections with people who weren’t obligated or pressured to like me like basically everyone else in my life. They made me feel better about myself, about my abilities, and I realized there was a constructive way in which I could use them. They unknowingly convinced me that I didn’t have to stay on the path of destruction I’d been on for my whole life, and that I could actually make something of myself, something that I didn’t hate. Something I could wake up every morning to and look in the mirror and not hate who was looking back at me or what she was doing everyday.

So I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to follow through with what I had agreed to do. Archer was persistent, though. He checked in on my progress, and at first I told him it would take time, which it would. But by the end of the three years I’d spent with the team, my excuses were just becoming lame. Not to say that the events that followed were lucky, because the whole Spencer and me going to prison thing was not lucky, but it gave me a legitimate excuse as to why I wasn’t working towards ‘the goal.’ It also gave him an excuse to come and threaten me while in prison. I didn’t know how I was going to get out of my deal with Archer, all I knew was that I had to. I was not going to tear that family apart, despite the fact that I already seemed to be doing that all on my own. But if they could survive the tornado that was me and my past, they deserved to be left alone after that.

Yet, I could tell that Archer had become restless, and the moment he mentioned going to someone else to get the job done if I couldn’t, I knew. He was the first one that really cemented my theory of Xena and DeLeon being back, but it was worse than I thought. He was working with them. Probably to do my job and kill me in the process, considering I knew his plans and could easily expose him, effectively wrecking everything. Unfortunately, he had no idea who he’d just gotten involved with, especially now that they were working as a team, and Archer was way too cocky and way too stupid to heed any of my warnings and assurances.

I had bigger problems at the moment, though. I always seem to.

Xena and DeLeon were back, and they were back with a vengeance. I knew that they had to be behind everything that had gone wrong. Some runner finding Maeve even before Spencer could, my father finding me and making weird comments like he knew what I had been up to, Spencer’s frame job and going to prison, and then of course, the detectives finding Spencer and I at my motel. I knew Xena had cameras in that room, and I saw her outside of the building as I was being shoved into the police car. I even wondered if they were behind the kidnapping of Derek’s cousin and Maeve. The three of us learned from the same person, and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to match, hell overcome, the two of their minds working together. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to work both angles at the same time: stopping Xena and DeLeon from afar and Agent Archer from all too close. But honestly, it didn’t really matter, because I had to find and stop them before they could wreck anything else, no matter what it cost me.

So I left the hospital leaving only that simple note behind; my unofficial resignation from the BAU. If I went off the grid, Xena and DeLeon would have to spend all of their time chasing me, and would have no time to spare for messing with the team. At least, that’s what I hoped.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

I was successful at staying hidden for about four months. While Xena and DeLeon hopefully didn’t have enough time or energy to keep tabs on the team, that didn’t mean I didn’t. I kept up with every case of theirs, and even left their main suspect tied to a chair in his living room one time as a sort of gift since he kept evading them. You know, since I was conveniently in the area at the time.

When I heard about the explosion, I rushed back to DC from some small town in Georgia. I’d been spending time in all different states and towns, hoping it would be enough to keep those urchins on my tail while I figured out a way to trap them. But this seemed more important, especially because there was a chance that whatever explosion hurt them could have been planted by Xena and DeLeon. I couldn’t be sure of anything regarding their involvement anymore.

I showed up to the hospital after hours, and stood outside the three adjacent rooms housing Derek, Aaron, and JJ. All three were hooked up to a plethora of machines, and were out cold. I just stood there watching them, convincing myself that this wasn’t somehow my fault with each steady beep of their monitors. The hospital was almost peaceful like this, which was odd for me to admit considering how much I hated them.

I don’t know how long I’d been standing there when I heard faint footsteps approaching from behind me. I whipped my head around to face the noise, but when I scanned the hallway behind me, there was no one there. You are getting really paranoid.

But I figured that’s what was keeping me alive, so I just rolled my eyes and moved on. I allowed myself only a few more minutes for now, making sure that the three of them were still alive before heading out.

I came back a couple days later to check on them again. I again did it in the middle of the night, so all three were in essentially the same state, but a bit more color had returned to their faces. I moved a couple paces over and leaned against the wall behind me. I shut my eyes for only a little bit, and when I opened them, I spotted her. Emily was sitting down in the chair in JJ’s room, her full focus and attention on the woman in front of her. I was in a corner of the mini lobby outside of their rooms, and by the looks of it, she hadn’t noticed I was there. My heart was racing as I attempted to slip by her room and out of the hospital. I had almost completely cleared the room when Emily made eye contact with me. It was for a split second, but it was enough for her to recognize me. I didn’t wait to see what happened, because I started a full on sprint out of the hospital.

I decided that I couldn’t go back there; it made me too careless. I was absolutely defenseless and in a weakened state of mind. It was too risky, for me and them alike. Staying hidden until I could figure a way out of this was my only option.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

The whole team had been shook by three of their members getting hurt in an explosion. They were all relieved that Derek, Hotch, and JJ were alive and that no serious damage had come to them. After closing the case Rossi and Preniss decided to be the ones that stayed with them, especially overnight. Penelope had stayed with them for four days straight while the rest of the team finished the case, so she deserved to be relieved of duty for a while, Tara got called to do more inmate interviews for research, and Reid just overall needed sleep. He’d been trying to figure out what Aundreya had meant by her note, where she was now, and what she was doing in all of his free time, including the midnight hours. Of course, everyone wanted to know more about these Xena and DeLeon characters, but even Garcia couldn’t find anything on them. Whatever was going on, there wasn’t really anything they could do about it. Reid knew this, but refused to give up. He finally agreed to go home, get some rest, and spend time with Maeve after some heavy convincing from Rossi and Prentiss. Which just left the two of them to be there together, or take shifts. A few days into it, Prenitss called Rossi in a minorly confused state.

“Sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you,” Emily started.

“I’m actually only a few minutes from the hospital, so that’s not a problem. What’s going on?” Rossi for the most part sounded calm, but Emily’s profiler ears could hear the slight concern behind them.

“Don’t worry, nothing’s wrong they’re all doing fine,” Emily started, and she heard a small sigh on the other end of the phone, “It’s just that, um…” Now that she was thinking about it, she wasn’t sure if she should tell anyone about Aundreya or not. Emily knew that whatever she was going through was very personal, and she probably didn’t intend on being seen, let alone having word get to the entire team. Plus, it probably wouldn’t benefit every member to know that she was around, but wouldn’t tell them what’s going on…

“What is it Emily?” Rossi questioned.

“I think… I think I just saw Aundreya. Here, in the hospital,” Emily answered. She wasn’t completely sure what to do with the information, and her and Rossi had always had a good relationship. He had this soothing, sturdy, knowledgeable vibe about him, and figured if she should tell anyone about this, it would be him. She also knew that Aundreya had trusted him, opening up about things she really hadn’t told anyone else, so it felt less violating to tell him.

“Hold on, I’m almost there,” was all Rossi offered before hanging up. It wasn’t exactly the reaction she’d been expecting.

When Rossi met her in the small lobby on that floor, he jumped right in with, “Yeah, I’ve seen her too.”

Emily’s eyes widened just slightly, but it didn’t really shock her either that he’d spotted her first. It just sort of made sense that he would. He always was better at keeping things a bit more compartmentalized and aware of his surroundings. Granted, Emily was pretty good at that herself, but when it came to her other team members, she could get a little clouded. “What should we do? Do we do anything?”

“I don’t think so. I’m not sure it would do any good, and she seems like she wants to handle this on her own,” Rossi replied.

“Whatever this is,” Emily pointed out. Rossi nodded, and after a few minutes, she added, “Is this what it was like when I was gone?”

Rossi turned to face her head on, “If you really want to know, yes. Except, we thought you were dead.” Not like we know for sure Aundreya isn’t, he thought, at least not yet.

“I’m so sorry for putting you all through that. It really sucks being on the other end of this. Not like the alternative is better…” Emily trailed off.

“You did what you had to do, and I’m sure Chambers is doing the same,” Rossi said with a small smile, “even if that means spending a few nights at my place.”

Emily looked over at him, mouth agape, “What? Are you serious?”

Rossi nodded. “I didn’t put it together until I saw her here a few days ago. I went home and just had this feeling that I wasn’t alone, and had heard a sound during the nights prior. I looked around my house and saw that one of the beds wasn’t made exactly like it had been for all the years I’ve lived there, and the window made the same squeaking sound I’d been hearing. I’ve tried to pay attention to when she’s there, but it’s very infrequent.”

“Probably random if she’s trying to fall off the radar,” Emily added.

A few more moments of silence passed before Rossi asked, “What would you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Her situation is somewhat similar to yours. If you were her, what would you be doing right now?”

It wasn’t a bad thought. They put themselves in the shoes of the unsubs all the time, why not use the same technique here? “Uh, well, I’d be trying to go underground right about now. She’s clearly running from someone, or multiple someones, which are probably those other two names on her list.” Emily thought a bit more and continued, “When it was me, I wasn’t only running from Doyle, but I was also running to Declyn. If she’s running from those two people, what or who is she running to?”

“That is a very good question,” Rossi agreed. They both pondered this for a little while longer before taking a break, realizing they weren’t going to come with the answer tonight, and definitely not at a hospital where three of their friends were staying.

“Are we sure we aren’t going to tell anyone?” Emily sounded concerned.

“I don’t think that will help. And there are people who I don’t think need to know this,” Rossi said with a knowing look, “But, if we get any more information, or just happen upon evidence that points towards her needing our help, along with something we can actually do about it, then maybe we will. But until then, I think you and I should keep this to ourselves.” Emily nodded and the pair remained in silence for the rest of the night, mulling over the next moves they’d make and next questions they’d ask tomorrow, hoping they’d be enough to make a difference.

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[darecruit]

First Look at Open Arms, Chapter 17!

Chapter 17: Repercussions

Jack walked back into the house after putting the burgers on the grill and was taken aback by the total chaos going on around him. Lexi was talking in angry bursts punctuated by loud tears, no doubt from the near-perfect, bright red handprint emblazoned on her cheek. Sarah was doing her best to comfort the distraught girl while Diane was yelling to be heard over the pair. John was doing his best to calm everyone, and poor Quinn and Frannie were off to the side, just trying to keep out of everyone’s way. There was no sign of Shelby or Rachel.

Just then, the front door opened and Shelby stormed into the living room. “I’m going to kill her!” he heard his youngest sister say, stabbing at her phone and then bringing the device to her ear. Her face darkened as she lowered it again and began furiously typing on the screen.

“Shelby? Rachel? What’s going on? Someone needs to start explaining, now!” Diane’s voice called from behind Jack. He turned in time to see his mother stalking towards him. She sidestepped him without a second glance, her gaze zeroing in on Shelby. “Where’s Rachel?”

“Of course I’m mad!” Shelby said out loud; it was clear to Jack that his sister hadn’t realized she had an audience. He watched as she shook her head and then took a deep breath before typing something more.

Thinking quickly, Jack reached a hand out and stopped his mother mid-step. She opened her mouth to protest but he shook his head. Shelby had brought her phone to her ear again and this time, sounded like she was actually talking to Rachel. “Let her be,” he said, easily turning his mother around.

“I need to help, Jack. Rachel’s run off and we don’t know where she is. We need to find her,” Diane argued, craning her head to stare back at Shelby. Jack couldn’t help but follow suit. It was then that Shelby noticed them and moved into the hall where she was blocked from view.

“She can’t have gone far. And Shelby looks like she has it handled. If she needs our help, she’ll let us know. C’mon, Ma,” Jack’s was the voice of reason.

Directing his mother over to soothe Quinn and Frannie, Jack’s next stop was his father. “Hey Dad, can you keep an eye on the burgers for me?” That done, he moved to his wife and daughter.

“Hey, bug, what happened?” he asked, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulders.

“Rachel happened!” came his child’s angry reply. “She was going off on Quinn for no reason—Quinn’s just tryingto be her friend but I heard Shelby say Rachel’s been acting bitchy to her all week and she’s probably jealous or something. Rachel doesn’t have friends at school and no wonder, if this is how she acts! So I called her out on it and she hit me!”

Jack blinked several times in quick succession, all the while shaking his head slowly, trying to process his daughter’s rushed explanation. His wife seemed to catch the drift much more quickly as he watched her eyes narrow and become stern.

“Language, Lexi—and that was a private conversation between your aunt and I,” Sarah scolded. “You know better than to eavesdrop on someone’s conversation!”

“How am I the one in trouble? Rachel hit me!” Lexi argued back.

“Yes, and her mother will correct her for that. As your mother, I’m more concerned about you and youractions,” Sarah said in a steely voice.

“That’s not fair! I wasn’t eavesdropping, I just overheard while I was taking stuff out to Dad. Not myfault you two were talking where someone could hear everything!” came Lexi’s snippy retort.

“Hey, watch your tone,” Jack warned. “What you heard wasn’t meant for your ears—that’s what your mom is getting at. And you’ve had trouble in this department before, young lady, so I’d knock off the ‘tude if I were you.” He leveled her with a look and a pointed finger—his signature ‘I mean business’ move.

Lexi huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, looking away from the matching angry frowns on her parents’ faces. She was the victim here, face still stinging where Rachel had slapped her, and they wanted to get on her about some accidental information gathering.

Jack shook his head and met his wife’s eyes. One simple look was all it took to convey a multitude of thoughts—Sarah was his rock and she would handle the situation with Lexi, keep Diane occupied if needed, so Jack could find Shelby like he wanted and offer her his big brother services, whatever that may be. Jack gave his wife a loving smile, leveled his daughter with one last warning glare, and then left the kitchen in search of his sister.

“Well, I think we both know you’ve more than earned a spanking—but it’s not the end of the world—” Jack heard Shelby say into her phone as he came up behind her. He made sure to make some noise so as not to scare her. Shelby turned, her expression guarded (no doubt assuming it was their mother instead) and relaxed when their eyes met.

“Baby, I’ve told you before, I will not let you get away with deliberate wrong-doing—and you’ve done a lot of that today,” she continued. Jack was able to hear Rachel crying on the other end and his heart went out to both mother and child. He could tell that Shelby was frustrated and sad—no parent liked the discipline part of their job—and Rachel was clearly distraught.

“Tell me where you are, Rach. Let’s get you home and—”

A thought occurred to him and he placed his hand on his sister’s shoulder. She looked up and then held a finger up to wait. “The park, okay. I’ll be right—”

“Let me go get her, Shelbs,” Jack spoke then. He had a gut feeling that Rachel needed someone on the outside to talk to before coming home, and it wouldn’t hurt Shelby to have some time to collect her thoughts.

“Honey, Uncle Jack is going to come get you, okay? You wait there for him, he’ll be less than five minutes,” Shelby changed course, understanding her brother’s need to help. It was the big brother in him and Shelby couldn’t deny the calming presence he had on her—Rachel could benefit from that same energy in this current moment.

Jack let out a sigh of relief, his hand moving to his sister’s back to rub up and down as she ended the call with Rachel. He could feel the moment the tension left Shelby’s body.

“Thanks, Jacky,” Shelby said tiredly. “I’m so sorry about—” She waved her hand around vaguely. “—this. I don’t know what’s gotten into her. She’s been acting up all week but I never thought she’d…I promise I’ll have her apologize to Lexi. I’ll take care of her behavior too. I can’t believe her! I’ve been on her recently for her rude behavior—though I don’t think any of that was really on purpose—but this—THIS—is deliberate.”

Shelby was speaking nearly as fast and furious as his daughter had only moments before—the complexity and speed at which a woman’s brain functioned would never fail to astound Jack. He knew Shelby was speaking more to herself than at him, but he felt the need to interrupt her regardless. “Easy there, killer,” he said. “Lexi isn’t completely blameless in all of this. She let slip that she heard some of what you and Sarah were talking about before. I’m sure that had something to do with Rachel’s outburst. And anyway, Shel, kids fight. I’ve found it’s easier to let them figure it out themselves—nine times out of ten it blows over as quickly as it started.”

Shelby scoffed. “Did you get a look at your kid’s face yet?”

Jack smirked. “Yeah. Yeah, I did,” he said. “Rachel’s got an arm on her—that’s not even her dominant hand.”

“Jack!” Shelby gasped.

The older Corcoran sibling couldn’t help but laugh; he thought he saw the corners of Shelby’s mouth quirk up. “C’mon, Shel. I’m just saying, maybe it’s not all as bad as it looks right now. Let everyone calm down and we can find out the truth and go from there.”

“Rachel’s still in a lot of trouble,” Shelby said, her mood darkening. Rachel had a lot to account for, no matter what else happened between the girls. And whatever had pushed things over the edge, the fight had been brewing within her daughter for more than a week now. Whether it stemmed from Rachel’s growing jealousy or perhaps even another subconscious test of the rules and boundaries, Shelby knew she’d have to prove to her daughter that she was here, there was permanence to her presence, and that there would always be consistency and security wherever and whenever she was involved.

Open Arms * Open Arms * Open Arms

Tucked away in the shadows of the playground’s wooden turret, Rachel felt every bit the captured, isolated princess, waiting for either a brave prince to rescue her or else the dragon to come finish her off. The experience wasn’t anything like in the stories. Her face was hot and sticky from tears and sweat—no fairy tale princess ever had to deal with things dripping from their nose or into their eyes. No, their tears were always delicate, beautiful—not this ugly, oozing mess that was Rachel’s reality.

The rumble from a truck pulling up, followed by the slamming of a car door brought Rachel back to the present. She twisted, getting to her knees, and was able to remain unseen while looking out of the little window of her tower. She saw Jack coming closer and couldn’t help but wonder…was he the prince, or the dragon?

Why did he come for her anyway? Shelby had been ready to come get Rachel when suddenly, she was told her uncle would instead. Why? Was she in trouble with him too? She did slap his kid in the face, after all.

“Rachel? It’s Uncle Jack. Where are you, kid?” Jack called out over the playground. He didn’t see his niece anywhere.

Rachel ducked down as her uncle closed the distance between them. She didn’t think he had spotted her yet and wanted to keep in that way for as long as possible—at least until she could figure out if he was mad or not.

Jack caught movement out of the corner of his eye, from the rightmost tower of the play castle. It was the biggest tower and had a ramp leading up inside. Following his gut, he easily climbed the ramp and ducked his head inside the structure. “Hey, Rach,” he said, and the small teen nearly jumped clean out of her skin. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, pal,” he added, easing himself into the spot next to Rachel. He cracked the seal on the water bottle he had brought with him and handed it to the sweaty teen.

Rachel eyed him cautiously, but took the offered drink with eagerness. Her throat hurt from all her crying and she was burning up from the overwhelming stuffiness inside her hideout. After several long gulps, she lowered the bottle from her lips and then wiped her mouth against the sleeve of her shirt. Her eyes flicked back to her uncle, who was staring at her with a patient calmness she wasn’t expecting.

“Aren’t you mad?” she asked, her tone more forceful than she had intended, accusing.

“What?” Jack asked, his surprise evident both in his voice and on his face. “Why would I be mad?”

Rachel scrunched up her face in disbelief. “Didn’t you see your kid’s face?”

Jack let out a bark of a laugh; Rachel’s response was nearly identical to that of her mother’s not ten minutes ago. It was wild, really. The look his niece gave in response only made him laugh harder.

“Why are you laughing?” Rachel demanded, defensive. She had the gnawing suspicion that she wasn’t aware of a joke being made about her. “I slapped Lexi, you know.” She wasn’t sure why she was offering up that information, if by some miracle her uncle didn’t know about it, but his laughter was unsettling. She needed him to be serious.

“I know,” Jack nodded, sobering at the teen’s expression. He could tell she was upset and on edge and, at the moment, he was only making it worse. “I saw her face. I know you slapped her. I’m not mad at you, Rach.”

“Why?” Rachel couldn’t stop herself from asking. “Mom’s mad at me,” she added as if that decided it all.

Jack sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, well…” he paused, deciding his words carefully. “Your mom’s a lot newer to all of this than I am. I’ve had seventeen years’ practice. Kids fight, and sometimes it gets physical. More often than not, it blows over without any interference on our end.”

Rachel frowned as she considered her uncle’s words. He was definitely more easy-going about this than her mother was…whether that was naturally his nature or because, like he said, he had more practice at it was up for debate. She knew without a doubt that there would be interference on her mom’s end…and Rachel would feel it on hers—Shelby had already said as much.

“Besides, I know Lexi and she’s no angel. She’s my daughter, after all,” Jack tried for levity and wasn’t all that surprised when he fell flat. He opted for a more matter-of-fact approach—it seemed that’s what Rachel needed right now. “I know she heard some things she shouldn’t have and used that information against you. So I understand your anger and why you lashed out. I’m not mad about that, kiddo.”

Wary brown eyes met his blue and he tentatively wrapped his arm around small shoulders; he smiled when Rachel relaxed against him. “That’s not to say I want you slapping her or anyone else whenever someone makes you angry, but in today’s case, I get it.”

“How come you came to pick me up instead of Mom?” Rachel asked. Her mom was all set to come get her—she had asked and pleaded with Rachel over and over to tell her where she was so she could pick her up. Then all of a sudden, she said Jack would pick Rachel up instead. Why?

Rachel felt her face drain as a thought occurred to her. “Is…is she too mad to want to see me? Does—oh, God—does she not want me anymore?”

“Rachel, no,” Jack said, his heart breaking for this child in his arms. He drew her closer to him, wanting to ground her. He could tell her thoughts were miles away.

“Are you taking me somewhere?”

“Rach—”

“Where am I gonna go? I don’t have any more parents to—”

“Rachel!”

Rachel jumped at the stern rumble of her name. Her uncle’s voice was so deep, especially in that tone he just used. It sent a chill up her spine. “Y-Yes, sir?” she squeaked.

“Hey, pal,” Jack breathed, his voice low, soothing. He hadn’t meant to scare the poor girl, he only wanted to get her attention and stop her panicked thoughts. “Easy, sweetheart. Deep breaths, okay?”

Rachel followed her uncle’s directive, focusing on her breathing. In. Hold. Out. Repeat. After several repetitions, she felt her heart start to slow, as well as her mind. She opened her eyes that she didn’t remember closing, and zeroed in on the water bottle she was still holding. She was suddenly very sad, and very thirsty. She finished the water off in two big gulps.

“Better?” Jack asked as the girl set down the empty bottle. She sighed and nodded.

“My dads used to bring me a glass of water whenever I was sad. It happened so often that eventually I couldn’t tell the difference between when I was sad and when I was just thirsty,” Rachel said.

If Jack thought his heart couldn’t possibly hurt any more for his niece, he was grossly mistaken. Not knowing what to say in that moment, he simply held her.

“Your mom isn’t mad at you, pal. I wanted to come get you. I thought you might need someone to talk to who wasn’t as, uh…involved. It has nothing to do with your mom not wanting to come herself—of course she wanted to. And she would never send you away, not ever.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t,” Rachel all but whispered. Jack heard it though, every word.

“Of course I can! I know for a fact that if even by some strange twist of fate your mom even thought about sending you somewhere, I would come kick her ass. I can do that, you know, big brother and all. Ben and Lauren would too. And if they didn’t, Nana and PopPop definitely would! Nana would be on her with her slipper faster than you could blink!”

Rachel’s mouth twitched upwards and she let out a small giggle in spite of herself—the image of her mother being chased around the house by her slipper-wielding Nana was too good!

Jack let out a relieved sigh; he got a smile out of the girl—finally! He disentangled himself from the hold he had on his niece and readjusted. It really wasn’t comfortable in this small enclosed space. “C’mon, time to get out of here. It’s hella hot and I’m getting claustrophobic.”

Rachel’s stomach dropped at her uncle’s pronouncement. The amusing mental image of her mother in the hot seat soured and was immediately replaced with her own very real predicament. She watched her uncle climb out of the tower and suddenly felt claustrophobic herself; her dread was quickly filling every available space in her once-safe hideout.

Not wanting to be alone in that oppressive space, she quickly scurried after her uncle’s retreating back. She accepted his helping hand down the ramp and onto the mulch-covered ground. “Uncle Jack,” she started, feeling the familiar prickle of tears in her eyes. She blinked to clear them. “Do you have to…I mean, can we not—” She let out frustrated breath and kicked at a bit of mulch with her foot. “Please don’t take me home yet. I—I’m not ready.”