#what if vanessa had come on at the end and dropped the elevator? would the response be the same? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stormyy-bluezz01 · 1 year

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gregory isn't as bad as you think.

(MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SECURITY BREACH RUINS DLC!)

with the ending of the ruins, while most people have come to the conclusion that gregory wasn't the one to toss cassie down that elevator, some were simply convinced that despite not being the one to originally trick cassie into coming down to the ruins, he was still the one who cut the elevator line, potentially killing cassie. & i think part of that has to do with the misconceptions about gregory.

let me explain.

a lot of people out there just don't like gregory, & are convinced that he's an irredeemable little shit. this is mainly because of his behaviour in the first sb game. lots of people think he's the scum of the earth for destroying freddy's friends & using them for upgrades, & while i agree he shouldn't have done that, it's pretty easy to understand why gregory did that. you, my friend with mommy issues, might be overly emotionally attached to roxy because you've seen what roxy is actually like. but gregory most probably has never even been to the pizzaplex before.

oh, & don't forget that these animatronics can physically be restored even after 'dying'... a human child cannot. that's right, that's all that gregory is. a child. i, a 15 year old, would freak out quite badly in this situation, personally, so i'm quite impressed with how calm gregory managed to keep himself. but what he was showing on the outside doesn't change what he must've been feeling on the inside. fear. i mean, let's be real guys, gregory has to be no older than 11, though he does look as young as 9 [though judging by his snarky personality, plus his similar looks to c.c., i don't think he's younger than 9, thus placing him in the 9-11 age range].

this does somewhat factor into why some people don't like gregory: his personality. gregory is quite snarky, sarcastic & rough around the edges, but he's not the sociopath some people paint him out to be. god, guys, this kid is living out on the streets! bro is definitely an orphan! & speaking of gregory living out on the streets, we don't even know how long gregory has been fending for himself. while he probably hasn't been on the streets themselves for that long [he is pretty clean-looking, after all], gregory probably doesn't have any true family [at least, before he met gregory (& vanessa if we count the princess quest ending)], or anyone who truly cares for him at all [not counting cassie, who's probably his only real friend]. so is it a shocker that gregory is the way he is? he acts selfishly because no one else was around to be selfish & look after him on his behalf. & as hard as freddy tries, poor papa-bear doesn't do the best job of making sure gregory doesn't fucking die in the middle of the night, lol.

...oh, & also, coming back to the 'destroying animatronics' part, some people (well i only saw one person use this theory in their fnaf gacha vid... don't judge me for watching that stuff guys, 2023 fnaf gacha is actually good, & 10x as entertaining-) actually think that gregory might've arrived at the destroyed pizzaplex once he figured out what was going on, only to figure out that cassie had released the mimic, & then gregory, having to choose between saving his best friend & saving countless lives from the mimic, ended up dropping the elevator with cassie in it.

while this is a way more plausible & reasonable theory, i still don't think gregory was in the pizzaplex at all, because i simply don't think he could've gotten to the line the elevator was hanging by... at least, i don't think he could've gotten there in time. as far as we know, the elevator line would be practically inaccessible for a human with no tools. it's a lot more likely that the mimic cut gregory off in the middle of his sentence (this game in particular was basically set on tricking cassie & the player on who was the real gregory the entire time, so even at the end, it was likely that steel wool would try to do this again. an amazing literary technique, if you ask me!), especially since the files contain two voicelines overlapping for that particular moment.

besides, we've already established that gregory is a tad more self-centred compared to other kids. who's to say gregory wouldn't be more focussed on cassie than the mimic here? gregory didn't give a damn about the animatronics, & while they may be a special case (considering that the animatronics can actually be physically fixed & recovered, & that gregory thought the technicians would just shut down the pizzaplex for a while to fix said animatronics), i think it's fully possible that gregory would pick cassie over all these random strangers. other than freddy, cassie is probably the only person gregory has ever truly bonded/connected with. cassie is one of the most important people in gregory's life, & gregory. she's probably like a sister to him, so why would gregory pick multiple strangers over one of the few people he considers family?

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TL;DR (still kinda long, to be honest, but this part does flow well & is shorter, so stick around to read this because this is the part where the post actually makes sense!)

in conclusion, what i've been tryna say this whole time is that gregory isn't a sociopath, he's a homeless kid with no family, & it's funny (in an upsetting sort of way) how some of y'all are literally painting him as a bad person for destroying the animatronics when the real villain of fnaf is literally supposed to be william afton himself, & here y'all are, victim-blaming a fucking 9-11 year old who lives on the streets.

& yes, once again, i'm gonna repeat that while i do agree gregory should not have destroyed the animatronics (especially since they've legit been freddy's friends his entire life, rip dude), it's understandable why he did so. gregory wanted to upgrade freddy so the poor guy could actually have a better chance of surviving the night (remember that save points are probably not canon, so gregory is actually a kid who is only managing to survive the night thanks to pure luck. he can't take any risks here!).

he's also just a young boy, no older than my own little brother (who'd totally freak out & not handle the situation as well as gregory did), & while gregory may act like a little shit/brat, it isn't his fault as he probably didn't have many positive role models growing up & had to fend for himself (maybe on a more emotional/metaphorical level when he was younger, as he does not seem to have been homeless for a long time).

& once again, gregory is a self-centred child who'd definitely pick saving his best friend's life over dozens (& potentially even hundreds) of people. after all, he's a kid who probably cannot comprehend the consequences of doing this, he & cassie are like 9-11 & despite his experiences, gregory probably still can't fully comprehend the idea of death, being just a young boy. (cassie is a different case since she basically saw roxy die-)

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....another TL;DR because the TL;DR is hella long- (this time i'm putting it in dot-points for those of you who are mentally incapable of reading huge slabs of text. still kinda a lot to swallow but bare with me here guys-)

gregory is not a sociopath: he's just had a hard life (you can't tell me he hasn't, while we don't know what he's been through, bro's definitely been through a hard life if he's on the streets instead of in an orphanage-) & this affects his behaviour. his age & maturity (he acts a bit like an edgy 13 year old, in my opinion-) also factors into this behaviour.

gregory only destroyed the animatronics because they were literally gonna kill him. (he believed that the technicians would shut down the pizzaplex for a couple of weeks to fix the animatronics, once the employees found the animatronics)

however, just because he destroyed the animatronics does not mean gregory would kill cassie in cold blood like how some of y'all believe he did. cassie is gregory's best friend, while gregory was probably meeting monty, roxy & chica for the first time, & therefore didn't have any bond with them. plus, once again, cassie is alive, she cannot be 'brought back' the same way the animatronics can.

gregory's also established to be self-centred, & would definitely choose to save cassie, regardless of the consequences (since the mimic would definitely escape if gregory got cassie out of the ruined pizzaplex).

there are probably a few more things i could choose to say in gregory's defence, but this post is getting too long & confusing. until then, i recommend watching this video which was supposed to be related, except i forgot to write the material relating to it! (still a good, reliable & interesting video though-):

youtube

~EDIT~

i now remember the material i was gonna type regarding this video! while there was something i was going to say in regards to the different possible endings (i forgor what it was now-), i do remember now that i was going to mention how some people believe gregory to be patient 48 (or whatever that number was, i forgor & i don't feel like cross-checking, so feel free to correct me!).

it's a well-known fact by now that patient 49 is most definitely being controlled/manipulated by glitchtrap. although people originally believed patient 48 to be vanessa/vanny, this is now proven to be false... or something like that, idk i don't keep that up-to-date with game theory's fnaf videos-

but anyways, most people these days actually believe gregory to be patient 49. part of this is to do with the fact that we don't know where gregory came from. while cassie talks about her dad all the time, gregory doesn't mention anything from the past, not even cassie. so for all we know, matpat's theory is correct & glammike, elizabeth!vanny/vanessa, & gregory = robot!c.c. are all canon-

but back on topic, because they believe that gregory is patient 49, many people believe that gregory would kill cassie in cold blood, or at least kill her in the name of saving people. but that's where you're wrong.

if you've watched the video above, you'd have probably heard how id fantasy (the creator, & a brilliant fnaf theorist if you ask me! she's right up there with matpat, tbh, imagine matpat but simplified & you'll get her videos!) theorised how gregory was most probably under glitchtrap's influence at one point or another (thus backing up the whole 'gregory is patient 48' theory).

however, something that most people forget is that anyone under glitchtrap's influence is forced to stay there if they want to live. vanessa did not want to be vanny, but she would've suffered a fate worse than death if she refused. after all, as we can see in the 'no' ending of fnaf: help wanted, the main character is just trapped in the game forever, even if they did 'win' against glitchtrap. once you pick the game up, there's simply no escape. i, too, would give up & let glitchtrap win the same way vanessa did, if i found out what the alternative is, & that there was literally no way to come out alive.

while, i, too, am not quite sure how gregory got his hands on the game or got under glitchtrap's influence, if we were to go with the 'gregory is patient 48' theory, i hope this explains the piled allegations against him. though frankly, i believe the 'elizabeth is patient 48 theory' way more.

#gregory fnaf #cassie fnaf #fnaf ruin #fnaf security breach #misunderstood #misunderstood character #Youtube

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a-simple-imagine · 3 years

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sugary sweet

requested by anonymous: “could u pls write a story abt spending ur birthday with vanessa?”

pairing: Vanessa (in the heights) x fem!reader

words: 1.4k+

A/N - this is not as fluffy as you probably expected. I just never write happy stories that involve birthdays, it’s cute at the end though

the bright, early morning sun peeked through the blinds as you slowly open your eyes to find the space beside you vacant. evidence of your girlfriend was there but she was nowhere to be found. the apartment felt eerily quiet. had she already left for work? what time was it? normally she'd at least say goodbye first. what a way to start the day. the rattle of the elevated train shakes throughout the apartment as it zooms past the window. you let out a heavy sigh. today was gonna be a very long day.

"happy birthday!" an excited voice as the bed dips suddenly bouncing you against the mattress. Vanessa wears a bright smile and in her hand was a ceramic white bowl.

"thank you," With both hands against the bed, you push yourself upright. full of fresh berries, Vanessa offers up the bowl but not without stealing one or two first.

"I gotta get to work but you can sleep more if you want," odd offer. you rarely spent time here without her. it was her apartment so you didn't really have a reason to plus that train can be awful annoying sometimes... most of the time. "do whatever but if you plan on goin home just come by the salon with the key, yeah?" a gentle kiss bestowed upon your forehead. a simple nod to confirm you understood the instructions and Vanessa was rushing out the bedroom, only to reappear a mere moment later. "you gonna be alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Unspoken words hang in the air as Vanessa keeps her eyes trained in on you; her feelings left unclear by her quick shrug before rushing out the door. you hear the door click this time. your smile fades into the silence, glancing down at the fruit. picking up a berry, you toss it into your mouth then place it off to the side. a heavy feeling twists at your stomach and pulls at your tear ducts. it was a complicated feeling. you didn't exactly have a reason for it but seeing your birthday as a day of celebration was also difficult. every year felt like it came with a personal checklist of life achievements. career milestones. marriage. babies. fitness goals. buying property. it was like a reminder that you were so far behind other people your age but then again, you weren't even sure what you wanted in life. following such a linear path seemed so trivial in the grand scheme of things. there was no guarantee of happiness or fulfilment but rather they were just the milestones of life everyone was expected to want. all you had was a dead-end job and your developing relationship with Vanessa. She made you happy, you weren't denying that. but did your whole life just equate to settling down with her? dark clouds hung low in your mind. how to spend this oh so special occasion? you could go out? you didn't have a lot of friends so it wasn't like you weren't used to doing things alone. today, however, the thought of doing anything just seemed... pathetic. like a strong reminder of how isolated you truly were. in the end, you decide against going out. decide against going home. you would merely entertain yourself until Vanessa returns. it was strange being in her apartment without her. you focus on her atrociously messy desk. paper, pens, cutouts scattered everywhere. getting out of bed, you take a closer look at the designs pinned to the wall. it was rather selfish but often your cloud of insecurity blinds you from the thought of Vanessa's dreams. you pull one of the designs down. simply but elegant and coloured in a metallic silvery-blue it looked like an evening gown. you had discussed her desperation and desire to leave Washington heights. you knew all too well that she wanted to be a fashion designer and there was nothing you wanted for her more than for her to achieve her dreams. but where do you fit into all of that?

The sun is long gone by the time Vanessa finally arrives home. "you decided to stick around then."

"guess so," you shrug, glancing towards her. she drops a plastic bag or two on the kitchen counter. "I can leave if you want?"

"no- no, I'm glad you're still here," Vanessa quickly responds, breezing right past you towards the bedroom. "so... what did you do today?"

"nothing,"

"for real?" she calls out. "you didn't do anything for your birthday?"

"didn't feel up to it,"

"I knew I shouldn't have left you here alone," was that sympathy or pity in her voice? they sounded similar.

"it's fine,"

"no, it's not," your girlfriend huffs. "I feel bad,"

"don't need the pity, nessa." Vanessa reappears from the bedroom dressed in nothing but a long t-shirt. "isn't that mine?"

"probably," a quick shrug as she looks over herself, "I just... you could have come to the salon or something."

"it's not a big deal," you insist. "it's all good."

"you should care more," she replies, "and we're gonna finish it off right,"

"what does that even mean?" your brows furrow, eyes following the other woman to the kitchen area. "have you eaten?"

"Nah- thought I'd wait for you," truth be told you just didn't feel like cooking but a little white lie never hurt anyone. plus it sounded sweeter to think you waited just so you could eat together.

"Great," the woman spins on her heel and from her hand dangles a white plastic bag that explained the tantalising aroma that had enveloped the apartment. "because I brought take out."

"What kind?"

"Chinese," Proud words accompanied by a knowing smirk. "your favourite."

"you know me well," jumping up, you join Vanessa at the kitchen counter. she's unloading different cartons of food. a quick kiss is placed on her cheek as you grab the cutlery. nothing beats a little Chinese food after a long day

with dinner done and dusted, Vanessa tasks you with taking out the trash despite your protest. it was your birthday you shouldn't have to do it but there was no convincing your very stubborn girlfriend. marching all the way down the stairs of her apartment building; the elevator was once again, broken. it conveniently always seemed to be out of order when you wanted to use it. a slow climb back up, you arrive back to a very dark apartment. "power out or...?" that didn't make any sense. the lights in the hallway were clearly still on. the roar of the train brings with it a warm flicker of candlelight in the corner of the kitchen.

"happy birthday to you," her quiet melodic voice starts to sing as she turns slowly. in Vanessa's hand sits a cupcake with a single pink candle expertly placed in the centre. "happy birthday to you," slow careful steps closer, her hand shielding the flame. "happy birthday dear-"

"do we have to do this?"

"yes," she declared finishing off the song as she meets you in the middle. it's hard not to appreciate the cheesy gesture, an embarrassed smile settling on your lips. "now make a wish." taking a deep breath, you let your eyes flutter closed before blowing out the fire. handing over the cake, you swipe a little of the white frosting on the tip of your finger and into your mouth. sugary sweet. "how is it?"

"want a taste?" a playful quirk of your brow, you place the cupcake on the counter and pull Vanessa flush against you. her hands fall to your hips and you place your arms over her shoulders. "well?"

your girlfriend nods a little, keeping her eyes on yours. leaning in slowly, you connect your lips in a gentle embrace. Vanessa smiles into the kiss. " Feliz cumpleaños, cariño." whispered against your lips. "sorry for not doing more."

"don't be," you shrug a little. "this was enough. you are enough."

looking into her eyes and even in the darkness, you can tell she's holding something back. some comment or feeling. it's the same with you. despite your words, that heavy feeling still burned in your chest. a lost, empty feeling that may never truly leave but you didn't want to have that conversation. "let's go to bed."

backing away from her, visible confusion crosses your face. "it's only like... ten?"

"exactly," Vanessa takes your hand, a smirk on her lips.

"what about my cupcake?"

"what about it?" A soft little giggle but you don't protest as she leads you towards the bedroom.

#vanessa morales #in the heights #vanessa in the heights #melissa barrera #vanessa ith

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justmypartner · 3 years

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Make it Work: Chapter 5

Summary: When offered a permanent position with the FBI, Hailey agrees to take it under one condition: Jay comes too. As their personal lives and work lives begin to change, the two partners find it increasingly difficult to navigate their complex relationship and manage their feelings for one another.

Writer’s Note: I want to first apologize for taking so long to update this fic. I took a break to finish up school related things, and then when I came back to writing I was feeling very uninspired with this chapter. Nevertheless, I pushed through and what I thought was going to be a bland filler chapter ended up being a really fun chapter to write. Starting today, I am back to posting chapters weekly! Please enjoy & I want to thank everyone who has read/supported this fic. As LaRoyce always says: From the heart ❤️

TW:// mentions of PTSD

Tagging: @angelsjedi , @brookerz122493 , @cpdfan2014 , @the–carousel , @maya-asturias , @itsdesiree86 , @tvshowsaremyhappyplace

Read on AO3 or below

It had been two weeks since their first day at the FBI, and Jay and Hailey had finally found a comfortable rhythm. For Jay, it took a while to get used to solely being a field agent. Part of him missed digging for intel themselves. He missed the long nights in the wire room and the early mornings organizing the case board, but the fieldwork mostly made up for that part of the job he missed. He loved being out on the streets, and in his eyes, nothing could beat the satisfaction of finally putting the offenders in cuffs.

The team was still rolling as a quartet, with Hailey still partnered with Walker and Jay with Daisy. For the most part, they were all out in the field together, but some instances required the pairs to break apart. He and Daisy’s partnership was working, but they didn’t function in the same natural way he and Hailey always did. He missed riding with her, but he was making do with the current arrangement until their training period was up. Overall, he was fond of Daisy. She was competent, cool under pressure, and she had his back when it counted, so he grew to trust her a great deal. Walker was another story. He was good at his job, there was no doubt about that, but he had a way of running his mouth that made Jay want to keep his distance. Things had been icy since they were at each other’s throats on the first day when Jay’s concern for Hailey got the best of him. They were able to patch things up, but Jay knew they weren’t going to be best friends anytime soon. He also didn’t like the way Walker interacted with Hailey. Other than what Jay identified as obvious flirting, he had a way of coddling her that, from Jay’s eyes, demeaned her and her abilities. He wasn’t sure if she didn’t notice it or if she was choosing to ignore it for the sake of avoiding conflict, but she never called him out for it. At least not when Jay was around. So, he never questioned it. He trusted her. Since it didn’t visibly bother her, he tried to not let it bother him either.

“Excited to have your favorite partner back?” Jay asked as he and Hailey climbed onto the elevator. It was officially their first day of partnering together as agents, and he couldn’t have been happier.

“Wait, Vanessa joined the FBI?” she joked, feigning a look of surprise.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“Nope. I know I’m funny,” she smirked back.

“How is she by the way?” Jay asked, inquiring about her former roommate and best friend. Not long after Hailey went to New York the first time, Vanessa was picked out of Intelligence by Major Crimes to do a long-term undercover sting. She didn’t get to say a proper goodbye to Hailey, something they were both sad about, but they remained in touch through an occasional text.

“She can’t communicate much, but when she does she seems good. You know her, she’s a natural-born UC. Quick on her feet,” she said briefly. Jay nodded, noticing a slight drop in her mood as she spoke about her. He knew the connection those two had. Hailey looked out for her, almost to a fault as it was her attempt at protecting Vanessa and her childhood friend that got her sent to New York in the first place. He knew it killed her to not get to say a proper goodbye, and he could see it in her face in that moment. He decided to change the subject to get it off her mind.

“So, are you going to miss partnering with Walker at all?” Jay asked, slightly nervous to hear her answer.

“Mm, not really. I mean he’s a great agent and all, but he’s just too much in his own head. We connected pretty well with small talk and all that, but I felt like I had to keep a constant eye on him in the field. We just didn’t work well together. Not like you and me anyway,” she admitted, flashing him a brief smile. It was contagious and he turned his head to the side to conceal the one erupting across his face.

It relieved him to know that she didn’t feed into whatever connection Walker was trying to build between them. It made him even more relieved to know that they were back together as partners, something he was counting down to since their first day on the job.

Things jumped off the second they stepped into the bullpen. Drake briefed the team on the case the minute they walked in the room. A rogue member of an anti-military activist group in the city exposed the group’s plans to target a veteran’s convention at the Javits Center in Midtown. Being that their intel came from an insider, the group was oblivious to the bureau’s knowledge of their plans. Drake tasked Jay, Hailey, Walker, and Daisy with attending the convention, posing as veterans as they worked to smoke out the guys before they could carry out their plans. As Drake, a former Naval Officer briefed the case, Jay picked up on some tension and anger in his voice. He recognized it easily because he felt it himself. He pretended he didn’t notice when Hailey’s eyes began to survey his face, what he guessed was her way of trying to read his reaction to the case. He tried his best to remain stone faced, but he knew she could tell something was up just by looking at him.

If they had caught the case a few years prior, he would have gone to a much darker place, acting on rage rather than ration. However, through his therapy sessions over the years, he had learned to manage the emotions that only things related to the service could elicit. Once Drake was finished briefing everyone, he assigned the teams their positions and sent them on their way. As Jay turned away to head to the locker room to change, Drake called out to him.

“Jay, hang back a second?” He asked him. Jay sent Hailey a small wave, signaling her to go on without him. He followed Drake to his office, shoving his hands in his pockets after he closed the office door behind him.

“Something wrong, sir?” Jay asked, confusion in his voice.

“Jay, I know you’ve got a background in the military. I don’t have to imagine what’s going through your head right now, because it’s going through mine as well. But we need to play this one by the book, so I just need to know if I need to keep a leash on you today,” Drake spoke shortly.

“I’m straight, sir. You don’t have to worry about me, I’ll keep in check,” Jay assured him, nodding his head with his words. His boss bobbed his head slowly as if he were debating whether or not to accept his assurance.

“Let me know if that changes,” he replied quietly, sending the agent a trusting nod.

“Will do,” Jay returned before turning to leave the office.

He quickly changed and made his way to the elevators to head down to the garage. His mind flickered back to his time in country. The faces of the six friends he lost before he came home and his best friend Mouse who was there currently flooded his head with memories. He tried his best to shake them off as the elevator descended towards the garage. The case was stirring up something in him, but he was determined to center his focus on the job and not let it take over. The doors opened and he stepped out, tracking his footsteps with his eyes as he walked. When he looked up, Hailey was slumped against the car. When she saw him, she bounced herself off of it with her foot and walked in his direction.

“Everything okay?” She asked, a look of concern plastered across her face.

“Yeah. Drake just wanted to make sure my head was on straight today… with my military background and all,” he said, his eyes darting around the garage to avoid hers.

“Mm,” she hummed. “Let me know if I can take anything off your plate. You know I’ve got your back,” she told him warmly, peering into his eyes with a look of sincerity.

“I know. I appreciate it,” he told her, forcing a smile.

“Anyway, check out our rig,” she said sarcastically, gesturing to the bureau-issued black SUV behind her. “It’s very unique and way better than your old truck,” she mocked, smiling as she tried to lighten the mood.

Against his best efforts, a smile crept away from his mouth as her weak attempt at cheering him up succeeded. Her head tilted as her eyes looked over at him with a glimmer he had only noticed a few other times before.

“C’mon. Let’s take this baby for a spin,” she finally told him, tossing him the keys as she made her way to the passenger side of the car.

Jay’s nerves picked up when they arrived at the convention center. Since they were going in undercover, they had changed into street clothes to blend in. He had chosen one of his old Ranger shirts and jeans, and Hailey opted for a plain white t-shirt and jeans. When they got out of the car, she reached into the backseat, grabbing a ball cap and securing it on her head before closing the door. The word “Navy” was written across it in yellow letters. She didn’t wear hats often, but Jay admired when she did. They suited her, however seeing her rep the Navy stung him a bit.

“You just had to choose Navy didn’t you,” he mocked at her with a scoff, knowing she could have chosen any branch to represent as they attempted to blend into the crowd.

“What?” she feigned ignorance as Jay gave her a look of annoyance. “Drake loaned it to me,” she told him, turning her head up and brushing past him towards the entrance of the building.

“Mm. You know you always could have just borrowed something of mine,” he called after her, taking quick strides to catch up.

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have been able to see that look on your face,” she teased, her attention remaining straight ahead as she smirked slyly. He shook his head with a childish frown as he followed her to the entrance of the building.

Immediately upon walking through the doors, they caught sight of Daisy and Walker waiting for them under a welcome sign. They checked in and grabbed their name tags, before walking over to the two agents to convene before they set out into the center to try and track down the activists. Based on the intel provided by the whistleblower, they learned that the plan was to send in five members, each armed with undetectable weapons to disperse into the convention center and target high-ranking officials from each branch of the military. There was a panel later in the afternoon in which these individuals would all be on stage, the perfect opportunity to carry out the attack. Intel also revealed the individuals would be wearing red shoelaces so that they could spot each other in the crowd, a tidbit the four of them were happy to use to their advantage.

“Four of us, five of them. We need to split up. Hailey and I can take the first and second floor, you guys take the third and fourth. We each get a floor and call for backup the second we find any of these guys. If you spot one, take them down quietly, we can’t risk them alerting the others,” Jay commanded, taking point on the operation. They all nodded before breaking off and heading towards their separate floors.

“I’ll take the second floor,” Hailey told him, moving past him to climb the stairs.

“Wait,” he called after her, grasping her wrist lightly to stop her.

She looked down at his hand on her wrist, her eyes lingering for a moment before swallowing hard and bringing them back up to meet his. He quickly released his hand, bringing it to his pocket before he spoke.

“I- Just be careful, yeah?” He said simply, avoiding what he originally intended to say. Despite what he previously told both her and Drake, the case and being in a room full of veterans was affecting him more than he would have liked to let on. He almost told her this, hoping she’d have something to say that would help calm the jumbled mess going on in his brain. Yet, he realized she would just worry more and insist on staying together as they sought out the targets, and they needed to split up for time’s sake. So, before the words could leave his mouth, he asked for reassurance of the only other thing on his mind. Her safety.

Her brow furrowed at his words almost like she knew that wasn’t what he wanted to say, but she just nodded simply in affirmation. She brought a fist to bump his chest lightly before turning back and once again heading toward the stairs. He took a deep breath and recited the prayer of St. Christopher his mother made him and Will memorize when they were younger. These were grounding techniques he learned during his time in therapy. When he first started therapy, he thought the techniques were bogus, but he came to learn they really helped him cope when things began to trigger him.

He took one final breath before making his way through the crowd of people, glancing down at the floor every few seconds to survey the shoes of those around him, trying to spot any glimpse of red he could.

Half an hour had passed, and it had been radio silence over the coms. He knew the operation would be difficult, but he thought for sure by that point they would have found at least one of the offenders. Just as he began brainstorming different strategies in his head, he caught a glimmer of red on the floor, doing a double-take and stopping in his tracks to confirm his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. The red shoelaces were there, plain as day, and the man wearing them was by himself, surveying the crowd nervously.

“I’ve got one of the targets. First floor near the east corner by a couple of food vendors. I’m moving in now, meet at the rendezvous,” he said into the coms before walking towards the coffee stand to his right. He grabbed a coffee, filling the cup with cream to cool it down before walking towards the target. A few steps away from the man, he faked a trip, sending the contents in the cup all over him.

“Woah, I’m so sorry, man,” Jay called out, reaching for napkins to try and help the man dry his drenched shirt.

“What the hell is your problem?” The guy questioned, a look of fury on his face.

“That is totally my bad. I’m such a klutz. I didn’t see that bump on the floor,” Jay told the man, handing him napkins as he attempted to pat his shirt dry. “Hey, you need to get that under some water. The men’s room is right around that corner and I think there were hand dryers in there,” he said, pointing around a corner. The man angrily turned, making his way in the direction Jay had just pointed to.

“Eyes up, he’s coming your way,” he said into his mic.

They grabbed the man up, locking him in a backroom the convention center had provided to them for detainment. The hope was that they could get him to give up the location of the other men, but his silence proved he wasn’t giving anything up.

“Why don’t you two keep questioning him, Daisy and I will go back out there and sniff the rest of these guys out,” Walker told the two partners. Jay clenched his jaw tightly as he eyed the target on the other side of the room. He hadn’t had the chance to question him yet, but he already knew whatever he had to say was going to just piss him off.

“You okay for that?” Hailey asked, turning to face him. Her eyes were cut up at him under the brim of her hat, and there was an earnest look on her face as she awaited his response.

“What do you mean by that?” Walker questioned before Jay could answer. He and Daisy weren’t aware of his history, certainly not in the way Hailey was. The last thing he wanted to do in that moment was dish out the details of his PTSD.

“Nothing,” he told the man bluntly before turning back to Hailey. “I’m fine, really,” he told her. As convincing as he tried to be, her eyes loitered on his face as she tried to measure the truth behind his words.

“You guys go ahead, we’ve got him,” she finally told the other two agents before they hesitantly turned on their heels to head back into the convention center. The second they were gone she stepped closer to him so she could speak to him without the man hearing.

“Look, I’m trusting you here, but the second you start to cross a line, I’m pulling you. This isn’t Intelligence. We can’t take the same risks here that we could under Voight. Understood?” She told him in a low voice. He bobbed his head up and down in agreement before making his way over to the man.

When they first detained the guy, they snapped a picture and sent it back to the analysts at headquarters to get an ID. Jay scanned the man’s file on his phone before slowly making his way over to him. He took a chair and sat it across from the man, turning it so he could sit with his arms crossed over the back of it.

“Mark Jones. You are quite the model citizen. Numerous charges for assault and battery, disturbing the peace, unlawful assembly, multiple violations of restraining orders, the list really goes on. But I don’t care about all of that. I care about why you’re at a veteran’s convention considering how public you’ve been about your hatred for the military,” Jay said, his eyes staring daggers into the man’s face.

“I ain’t talking to you. You’re just another pawn in the game. Too stupid and brainwashed to realize you guys are just a bunch of empty-headed murderers, blindly following whatever our so-called government tells you to,” the man spat back.

Murderers. The word made faces appear in Jay’s head. Faces of those he had killed both in Afghanistan and in Chicago. Faces he had spent years tormented by. He took several deep breaths, trying to ground himself. To keep from losing control. He looked over at Hailey who stood beside him, her arms crossed as she glared at the man across from them. Her attention turned to him and the expression on her face remained the same while the look in her eyes adjusted, sending him a soft message of support. This reassured him and he took one last deep breath before turning his attention back to the man.

“Where are the others?” Jay questioned, dragging out each word through clenched teeth. The man only gave him a snarl and an evil smile. He knew he was rattling Jay, and that only got him even more riled up.

“Ranger, huh?” He asked, avoiding Jay’s question completely and reading the letters across his shirt. “Y’all are the worst ones of them all. What’s your body count?” The man questioned, shifting his eyes from Jay to Hailey. “Baby blues here probably wouldn’t even be able to look you in the eyes if she knew how many, am I right?” The man laughed. Jay let out an annoyed laugh, staring into the space behind the man silently. His tongue trailed the back of his bottom teeth, the rage burning inside him and churning with every word that left the man’s mouth. Suddenly, he stood from his chair, kicking it towards the man aggressively before grabbing him by the collar. Almost immediately, he felt Hailey tugging at his arm to pull him off.

“You’re done, back up or get out,” she told him assertively. He continued scowling at the man, not moving from his position. She pushed against his chest, dropping her tone. “Jay, I’m serious. I’ve got this, stand back,” she told him in a whisper. Her voice snapped him out of the state he was in, and he threw his hands up, backing up and making his way to the wall on the other side of the room.

Jay’s ears rang as he blankly watched Hailey question the man. The room felt like it was spinning and whatever words were being exchanged between the two weren’t registering inside his head. All he could hear was a ringing in his ears, and what sounded like his heart beating out of his chest as his breath and heart rate increased out of control. He closed his eyes and took a breath. In for seven, out for eight. He quietly whispered the prayer of St. Christopher once again.

Grant me, O Lord, a steady hand and watchful eye, that no one shall be hurt as I pass by. You gave life, I pray no act of mine may take away or mar that gift of Thine. Shelter those, dear Lord, who bear my company from the evils of fire and all calamity.

When he opened his eyes, he was startled to see Hailey slowly and cautiously making her way toward him. Her brow was raised at him, and she turned around to look at their detainee before grabbing at Jay’s forearm and dragging him around the corner gently, out of the man’s sight.

“Are you good?” She questioned, a fearful look on her face and deep concern in her voice.

“Yeah,” he told her unconvincingly. But the rapid beating of his heart and the fog in his brain said otherwise. Almost like he had lost control of his body, he blurted out the word “no” as he shook his head. “I just, I-“ there was desperation in his voice, and the words fell out between irregular breaths. He noticed Hailey’s eyes begin to gloss over and she removed her hat, placing it on a chair beside them before closing the space between them. She then reached down to grab his hand, raising it to place it over her heart, keeping it there with her hand pressed tightly over his. This froze him, causing him to lose his breath completely as he brought his eyes down to meet hers. Any other time the touch would’ve had his heart racing, but somehow in that moment, it was what was calming him down.

“Jay, just control your breathing. Feel my heart beating, feel my hand against yours. You’re in America. You’re in New York. We’re both right here together, and you’re okay,” she whispered, taking deep breaths. She counted out her inhales and exhales, urging him to match her pattern of breathing. After a few moments like that, his breathing became normal again and they separated, taking a step back after releasing from each other’s touch.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable for letting her see that side of him.

“No, do not be sorry. You have nothing to apologize for.”

He nodded. “How’d you know what to do?” He questioned, picking up on the ease in which she was able to help him overcome the episode.

“After watching you deal with your PTSD alone early in our partnership, I decided to learn how I could help you in those situations in case I ever needed to. I actually asked the department shrink back in Chicago if she could give me any tips. She gave me those grounding techniques, the focusing on your senses, controlling your breathing…” her voice trailed off. He was looking at her deeply, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of care and concern she had for him. When she noticed the way he was looking at her, she looked away bashfully, reaching for her hat and securing it back on her head before clearing her throat.

“Anyway, are you okay?” She questioned. He nodded.

“Thank you.”

She took a deep breath before reaching to speak into the coms.

“Bennett, Burrows, Jones wouldn’t give me any leads on where the others are, but we need to find them fast. I was able to find out that at least two of them are carrying deadly aerosols. They’re after more than just the officials, they want to target as many of these veterans as possible,” she told them.

After calling in two other agents to watch the detainee, Jay and Hailey made their way back into the convention center. Against protest, she insisted they clear the place together. He knew it slowed down the operation, but it comforted him to know she was by his side in case he began to slip into a dark place again. About an hour passed, and they had no luck. The panel that would gather most of the convention attendees and all of the high-ranking officials was soon approaching, and Jay had a new idea to get the guys, but it was risky. They reconvened in the detainment room upon his request. Each of the agents eyed him, waiting for him to speak.

“I think we need to let the panel happen. We know this is what these guys are targeting. It’ll be easier to spot them this way, and we can get them all at once,” Jay proposed, looking between each of them for their reaction.

“It’s too risky, we’d be putting everyone in the room at risk,” Walker said, strongly opposing the suggestion.

“I don’t know, he has a good point. Having them all in one place, we don’t risk one of them slipping through the cracks,” Daisy voiced in support.

“Or it makes everything ten times worse, and they all get lost in the crowd,” Walker argued back. Hailey was quiet throughout the interaction, and they all looked to her to get her opinion.

“I think it’s risky, but I also think it’s the only play we have left,” Hailey said.

“Yeah, well you shouldn’t get a say, you would clearly side with him no matter what,” Walker said bluntly.

“Excuse me?” Hailey bit back. Before the conflict could go any further, Daisy butted in.

“You’re outnumbered here, Burrows, and we’re out of time. We’re doing Halstead’s plan,” she said straightly, turning to head back into the center. There was a distinct tension in the room, but they all shook it off to focus on the task at hand.

It was decided, they wait until the panel began and sniff the guys out. They called in another unit of covert tact guys to cover the perimeter of the crowd. Every minute that passed had them all on edge, and none of them had spotted the guys. Eventually, Daisy got the idea to pull the fire alarm. The ones who looked panicked, desperate to get to the exits would weed out the targets who would be desperate to stay inside. With a stroke of luck, the plan worked. Some of the tact guys were able to spot and take down two of the offenders, Jay and Daisy got another, while Walker and Hailey were left wrestling another to the ground. In the process, the man had dropped an aerosol canister. Hailey’s heart stopped as she watched it roll across the floor, but she breathed a sigh of relief when they got to it with the lid still sealed. The day ended much better than they could have all imagined.

Back at the office, they worked on paperwork late into the night. Jay was still distracted, still dealing with the effects of the day. Hailey helped him with the paperwork so they could get out of there more quickly, something he was grateful for. Logging off their computers and closing up files, Walker rose from his chair.

“I’m really sorry about earlier, I say we all go out to drinks. Clear up the air. I’m buying the first round,” he said, addressing every single one of them as he pulled on his coat.

“You know I would, but I’ve got a baby to get home to. After today, all I need are some tiny person cuddles,” Daisy said with a tired smirk.

“I’m in,” Hailey said, looking over at Jay as they awaited his response.

“I appreciate the apology, but today really had me beat, I’d rather just go home and sleep it all off,” Jay said as he rose from his chair. Hailey’s gaze remained fixed on him a moment, almost like she was asking if he was okay without saying a word at all. He nodded his head, slowly blinking his eyes at her and she sent him a false smile in response.

“You and me then, kid,” Walker said, eyeing Hailey with a less than wholesome look. Jay tensed up at the thought of the two of them, alone in a bar, winding down in the way he and Hailey were so used to doing. But after everything that had happened, he wasn’t feeling social, and the last thing he wanted was to be out for drinks with the two of them as Walker ogled Hailey the entire night. They left the desks to head out, and he slowly pulled on his coat and grabbed his phone and keys.

“Jay, wait up,” Drake called after him as he passed his office.

“Yes sir?” Jay questioned.

“Nice work today, I know it couldn’t have been easy. At least it wouldn’t have been for me,” he told him, sending a look of sincerity.

“It wasn’t easy, but Upton had my back.”

“Yeah, she’s a good one isn’t she?” Drake said. Jay looked behind him towards the elevators where she and Walker were waiting together. Walker said something to make her laugh, causing Jay’s face to drop immediately. He forced a smile before turning back to Drake.

“Yeah she’s a good piece of gear,” he told him, a phrase only a fellow military man would understand. Drake flashed him a smile in return, and Jay hung his head low.

“Goodnight, Halstead,” Drake told him.

“Goodnight, sir,” he returned before heading out.

He was still trying to decompress after the heaviness of the day, but he couldn’t get the idea of Walker and Hailey out of his head. He’d wished she would’ve said no, wished she wouldn’t be on her way to spend who knows how long with him at a bar. He also wished she would show up at his door, despite him saying he wanted to be alone, bearing booze and comfortable silence that always brought him peace after cases like that day’s. Yet, that night he knew she wouldn’t. So, he went home and immediately went to bed. Part of him was scared to sleep, bracing himself for whatever nightmares were to come as a result of the day’s triggers. He kept a light on that night, knowing if he woke up in the middle of the night from a bad dream it would remind him that he wasn’t in the middle of the desert, fighting for his life and trying to protect those around him. He recited the prayer of St. Christopher for the third time that day, but this time before he could get out all of the words, he was overcome with exhaustion and gave in to sleep.

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #upstead fic #justmypartner fics #collection of Em’s fics

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manawhaat · 4 years

Text

Howl

Title: Howl

Characters: Alpha!John x Omega!Reader, previous Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam, Jody Mills.

Summary: After spending twelve-hundred years in hell, John Winchester is spit out and lands on The Bunker’s doorstep while you’re away on a case. Sam and Dean insist you stay away until they can help him let go of the Alpha inside him and become human again. But when the bunker unexpectedly locks down the day you return home, you find yourself trapped inside with an Alpha who’s more monster than man.

Prompts: (This fic covers 3 challenges.)

@flamencodiva 1700 challenge - “I’ve been waiting a long time for you.”

@firefly-in-darkness summer-challenge - Limerence – the state of being infatuated with another person

@wi-deangirl77 Supernatural Schitt Challenge - “Let’s not ruin a meal by talking about the process.”

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, slight angst, dub-con, fear kink, scent kink, blood/minor blood play, hunter/prey dynamics, extreme pining, heat sickness, allusions to stalking, creepy!John, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, biting/scratching, claiming/knotting, breeding kink, true mates, cum play.

Word Count: 7.3k (not even a little bit sorry)

A/N: Huge, huge, HUGE thank you to @mrswhozeewhatsis for helping me make this what it is. You seriously elevate every single story you touch. Hell, you elevate EVERYTHING you touch! @sebbytrash and @sherrybaby14 also did kickass jobs betaing. I had a rough idea about this for a bit before I started to develop it and as soon as I started actually writing, I ended up signing up for a couple challenges, so this fic kills three challenges with one alpha. I liked a lot of quotes in Vanessa’s challenge so there’s actually 4 of them in here even though I only signed up for the one.

Lemme know if you like it, and maybe support my writing❤️❤️

“What do you mean John is back?”

Jody stops in her tracks and her face is a mirror image of yours, so you switch Sam to speaker and hold the phone between you and her.

“He’s back, Y/n.” Sam sighs, voice strained with exhaustion and confusion. “It’s him. He’s not missing a soul or anything but, uhh, he’s… different.”

“Different how?” A million things are running through your brain and you can only imagine what the boys must be thinking.

Shuffling fills your ear, quickly followed by the heavy creak of the bunker’s front door. His voice is quiet when he answers. “He was down there for a long time. It’s like it warped him. He’s-” Sam pauses, searching for the right word before landing on- “feral.”

Jody’s eyebrows shoot up and she clarifies, “Feral?”

Sam huffs. “Yeah. I mean, he’s only been back for a couple of days but the more we watch him and talk to him it’s like he’s more Alpha than human. Jody, I know you guys wrapped up your case but would it be okay if Y/n stayed with you for a bit?”

“I’m a big girl, Sam,” you scoff. “I dealt with your soulless ass and Dean as an actual fucking demon. I can handle a little more testosterone than normal.”

“No.” The voice belongs to Dean. “I’m serious, Y/n. This isn’t like me or Sam in a rut. He was down there for twelve-hundred years. He’s stronger than before he went down there and he’s not himself. Hell really did a number on him. There are some serious red flags here, sweetheart. He’s dangerous, and if something were to happen I’m not sure that we’d be able to protect you.”

“Jesus” Jody breathes.

The length of time put into words makes your stomach churn. The idea of anyone, anything spending so long in hell only to resurface is more than enough to send shivers up your spine.

“We’re not trying to get rid of you. We just need some time to figure things out. He’s barely-” Sam’s voice cracks- “he’s barely human, Y/n. Just give us enough time to make sure you’ll be safe around him, okay?”

Your eyes meet Jody’s and she shoots you a look that says you should listen to them. Making the guys go through this alone fucking sucks, but you trust them. “Okay, okay. I’ll keep my distance. But please keep me updated and let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Sam and Dean sigh in relief. “We will. Thanks, sweetheart. We’ll talk soon.”

The guys keep you up to date and a little over a month has passed when you start to feel you’ve overstayed your welcome at Jody’s. You all decide it's time for you to come home and you’re off the following morning.

The drive is long but pleasant and the sight of the bunker looming in the distance is a comfort as you draw near. The iron door swings open and your friends emerge with smiles on their faces, waiting for you to park and get out before crowding you at once.

As they approach, you pick something on the breeze that you’ve never smelled before. Sam pulls you in and the warm spice wafting in the air makes you press your body into his, a little too close, too intimately. He rumbles out a laugh and you just purr in response, letting him feel the heave of your chest against his. It’s only when Dean practically peels you away from his brother that you let yourself moan into Dean’s neck, running your fingers through the back of his hair to pull him closer and get a better whiff.

“God, you guys smell so fucking good,” you admit.

Sam’s brows furrow and he asks if you’re due for a heat.

“Nope. I’ve been taking my pills… Maybe I just missed you guys!” You wink and Dean squeezes your sides, but you playfully slap him away with a broad smile. “Actually, the gift you want is in the trunk. Let me take this stuff in and I’ll come back and help you with the rest,” you promise. “Oh, and where’s John?”

“Went for a walk. He’ll be back in a bit and we’ll introduce you then.”

They rush off to your car while you head inside. The creaky slam behind you is followed by the alarmingly loud clacks and clunks of multiple locks setting into place, the sounds enough to set you on high alert. The lights don’t kick off, so you’re sure the bunker isn’t in full lock down, but before you can investigate the locked door you’re suddenly struck with the scent that you smelled on them outside, It sends a cramp through your belly and you take a deep breath to combat it, almost tasting the air until you’re interrupted when your phone rings. Dean’s face pops up on your screen and you answer the call to hear his voice, light and playful.

“Hey, what the hell? Open up. I know you’re excited to be home, but c’mon. We live here too,” Dean says, half laughing.

When you try the handle, it’s stuck in place. “It’s locked from the inside. I didn’t even touch it.”

“Son of a bitch.”

You stay on the line with him while they try their key from the outside. It doesn’t work and when they point you to the manual lever along the wall, it doesn’t budge. You can’t find any external locks to try on your side so you head down to the war room to try the mechanical system override.

A wave of dizziness washes over you when your foot hits the bunker floor off the bottom of the staircase, but you steel yourself and search the room for what you’re looking for. As if fate is against you, the search is aborted by the wash of a fever flooding your body.

It only takes a minute or two, but emotions and hormones slam through you at an alarming rate. Your heart and brain race as your body temperature kicks up a few degrees.

No, no, no. I’m taking suppressants. This can’t be happening. How is this happening so fast?

Sam and Dean are audibly yelling outside and through your phone, bickering about how to get into the bunker and that they should have known you’d go into heat upon returning to the smell of them. But their worried voices are muffled by a fog that comes over you, and somewhere in the bunker there’s a low growl that has your ears perking up. The sound is so faint you’re not sure it’s even real, until it comes again.

Your blood runs cold and you grip the phone tight in your hand, eyes wide as you look into the dark expanse of the bunker. “Guys… I think I just heard something.”

Their efforts to break down the front door stop cold. “What did you hear?”

Just then, the growl comes again and sends shivers up your spine. It’s the voice of a predator somewhere in the depths of the bunker you’re trapped in.

“I- I don’t think I’m alone in here.”

The fever and pain in your lower belly spike again and you’re almost crippled by the scent in the air. It’s faint but your body would know it anywhere, and before you can think about it you’re thrust into a strong and sudden heat that has you boiling and worried. Fresh slick gushes through your core, leaking into your underwear as you moan lewdly, clinging to the wall for support.

“Oh, fuck. Alpha!”

The phone remains loosely held in your grip but it’s dropped to your side as you rush through the halls, completely oblivious to Dean calling your name and warning you to stay where you are.

Every step you take has your body buzzing harder and harder. The sounds have stopped but the scent is getting stronger. Your mouth is dry with need and your body is almost reaching its peak just on the pulse of sheer power you’re being drawn in by.

The door to the dungeon is in front of you when your feet finally stop. Part of you registers that you’ve moved through the entire bunker in a matter of seconds, and wants you to stop and think about that for a minute, but the energy surging through your blood urges you to reach out and open the door.

“Don’t open that door!”

The voice booms through your skull, echoes off the bunker walls, shocks you, and fills your body with cold dread. Flinching back in surprise, your back hits the wall and you suddenly remember Dean on the phone. He’s rambling, but you cut him off with worry and lust fighting for dominance in your heart.

“Dean, I can feel him,” you admit, not even realizing it until after the words have echoed back at you in Dean’s voice.

“Don’t go in that room,” he warns. Commands. Your inner omega should be cowering. That’s twice you’ve been told and yet your body is quickly starting to think those words are more of a dare than a warning.

“It’s him, isn’t it? It’s John.”

A groan slithers through the cracks of the door at the sound of his name on your tongue and you know you’re right.

“He must have gotten back without us noticing. He’s dangerous, Y/n. Do not go into that room. Come back and help us find a way to get you outta there before you get hurt!”

You register the guys talking to you, yelling at you, warning you and begging you, but your body is moving on its own accord.

“Omega, stop!” John barks at you from the dungeon and you whine with need, sinking to your knees and taking in shaky breaths.

Sam’s voice catches your attention and you hear him in the middle of his sentence. “...away from there. Go to your room, take another suppressant and use your toys to calm down. Please don’t argue. If you’re going into heat then you need to leave right now. You aren’t safe there.”

Picking yourself up off the ground, you shake your head and try to break the spell. They’ve kept you away for a reason and if the guys are this worried, you should probably try to listen to them. Four steps is all you manage to take before the pain in your lower belly becomes too much and you slump against the wall. Now that you’ve been this close to the caged alpha, your body won’t let you leave.

“Guys,” you pant, sucking in ragged breaths to steel yourself from the pain. You take another two steps and collapse, screaming in agony as your nerves shred themselves, ripping themselves apart trying to escape your body and get closer to John.

Chains rattle, metal scrapes in the dungeon, and the snarls that burst from John’s chest have Sam and Dean calling for you through the phone. You grip it tight, crawl back down the hall, and sigh in relief as you give your body what it wants and the pain eases. When you settle against the wall across the hallway, the distressed sounds behind the dungeon door calm.

“I can’t.”

Hot tears prick at your eyes as you stare at that door in horror and need. You’ve hated being a weak omega with little to no say over your own life since the day you presented, and now what little control you’ve managed to find (with the help of the brothers) is slipping through your fingers. You don’t want this, but you are completely and utterly unable to deny it.

“I can’t leave. I need him.”

Soft sobs are the last thing the boys hear tumble from your mouth before you hang up and toss the phone away.

If you can’t leave, you’re gonna stay and do everything you can to listen to the men in your life. So you tear open your jeans and stuff your hands inside, desperate to quell the throbbing between your legs and gain back some semblance of control over your body.

On instinct, your mind goes to Dean. He’s been exactly who you needed him to be and he’s never let you down. Every touch serves a purpose, and his skill always afforded you the luxury of being in expert hands. But here and now, the more you think about him, the less you can remember; not the feel of his fingers inside you, let alone the taste of his tongue or girth of his knot when it’s locked you together.

A cry of Dean’s name fills the air, as if calling out to him will magically bring him to you. Will restore the memory and give you the headway you need. But Dean’s pushed out of your mind and before you realize, the images that fill your brain are of the man behind the door. Photos you’ve seen in passing over the years in Sam and Dean’s rooms and journals. The memories are a little fuzzy, but you have enough of the mental image to piece him together. Broad shoulders, thick neck, long legs, and strong hands.

Choking on desire, you’re frozen still and silent, pussy fluttering wetly around two fingers. An angry rattle of chains meets your ears on the other side of the door and you push your fingers through your folds for him, for the alpha you’ve yet to meet. The stranger that’s sent you tumbling down into this overwhelming heat.

“I can smell what you’re doin’ sweetheart,” he says through the door, and you hear him inhale long and slow; you know that he’s savoring the smell of your dripping cunt.

It’s enough to have you kicking off your pants and tearing off your shirt. The air around you is sweltering and your clothes are already soaked with sweat and slick. Your panties are wet against the back of your hand as you fuck yourself dizzy, try desperately to run from that pain and the overwhelming inevitable that’s flaring in your blood the longer you sit outside the dungeon.

Unbearable pain vibrates through your cells as you reach an almost orgasm. Everything is a blur and your tongue is heavy and dry in your mouth. You’re slowly suffocating and going blind, burning and dying. Heat sickness has always been a myth in your mind, but now you’re feeling it and you cry out in fear and frustration, worried that this might just be how you die. As if he can hear your thoughts, as if he can feel you growing weaker with every passing minute, your alpha rages and a roar booms through the bunker. It’s not anger or lust, but fear, and it matches your own.

You muster your strength and bravery, crawl across the hall and finally push open the dungeon door. Heat spills from the room and it’s musty with the pheromones he’s putting in the air, the sweat on his skin, and the need in his blood.

Wrenching back the shelves, you meet John Winchester face to face for the first time. He’s sitting in the middle of the dungeon in jeans and a flannel shirt. It’s buttoned over a black t-shirt and his sleeves are rolled enough for you to see the raised veins on his forearms. Chains and rope surround his body, strapping him tightly to the iron chair in the center of the room.

As you step closer, your initial analysis of his bindings is wrong. The padlock is near his right hand, the knots of rope at his hands are sloppy, and the chains on his upper body give him enough room to move a little against them. The only one that’s really secure is the padlocked chain collar around his neck.

“Like my handiwork?” he asks as you eye him. “Tied the knots and wrapped these chains, myself… but these won’t hold. I don’t want to hurt you, but I won’t be able to stop when I get out. And I will get out.”

John shifts against the bindings as you step closer, bares his teeth to reveal elongated canines that make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. The veins in his neck are clear and visible, blood pumping through them hard and fast, and his teeth bite into his lower lip when you step into the devil’s trap.

Drops of blood spill out of his mouth and a shudder wracks through you- he’s hurting himself in his effort to stay still- but you can’t control yourself. You’re too far gone now that you’re this close.

“I need you, John. Need your knot. Need you inside me. I’m yours and you’re mine.”

The words are the first you’ve spoken to him and they surprise you both. John hardens himself, slams his eyes shut and strains in this seat, holding himself as far away from you as possible until you rip your underwear off your body as a show of your desperation.

The scent of your soaked pussy makes his blood boil and a roar builds deep in his chest to explode out of his mouth. His body writhes with the force of it but in a flash the powerful sound turns into a menacing cackle. Wild eyes widen up at you and his blood-stained teeth have your full attention when his tongue tracks over them.

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re gonna taste so good.” His hands grip at the arms of the chair, thick, sharp claws dig into the wood enough for it to splinter. “I’m gonna tear you apart,” he laughs, full bodied, crows feet at his eyes, mouth split wide open on his face.

Part of you doesn’t want to believe him. There’s a throb in your core that calls out for him, that yearns to feel his lips and skin against yours. Slick pools between your legs and John sucks in a long, harsh, deep breath, pupils expanding as he savors your scent.

“You think this is a game, baby girl?” Your pussy flutters at his words, even as his demeanor darkens further. “You’re gonna bleed, just like all those people on my rack in hell. Gonna sink my claws into you, see where you rip and where you hold up, see how hard I have to bite to get you to beg me to stop. Gonna break your bones and give it to you harder when that little omega pussy is busted open and bleeding around me. Stick around, send me into this rut and you’ll be wishing you never set foot in this bunker. That’s a fuckin’ promise.”

The thought of being torn apart is that of nightmares. Dean had rough ruts after hell, but he was right: John is dangerous. Every rational thought in your brain is telling you to run, to find a way back to Dean, but there’s an electricity in the air that tugs your ions closer to his.

His eyes are dark and stormy, the muddy wash bordering on red, and salt and pepper spread through his dark hair and the beard clinging to his strong jaw. Tentatively, your hands reach out for him and he hisses, jumps at you with dripping teeth and dark eyes, guttural sounds tearing from his throat as he struggles to get to you.

In an effort to sate your heat and keep your distance, a dizzying compromise lands at your feet. If you can take what you need from him, you might be able to gain the higher ground. If you give your heat what it wants fast enough, you can outrun him and gain control of your body again. Only half of your heart believes it, but you can’t stop yourself from easing into his lap to test the theory.

Heat sears your crotch where you grind down onto him, rolls off of him in waves that leave you in a cold sweat. “Will you come to my funeral, John? Will you watch me burn to a pile of ash on a shitty pyre? Because you’re gonna have to if I don’t do this… if you don’t knot me right fucking now.”

“I might have to either way, darlin’,” he growls, the chain collar around his neck clunking and rattling with his effort to both get closer to you and keep away all at the same time. The blood on his lower lip forms into a fat drop, lingers on his skin like it doesn’t want to leave, and you watch it fall and land on your inner thigh where you’re straddling him.

Even with his dark promises, your hands hastily pluck apart the buttons of his jeans and pull the material down to reveal a thick shaft surrounded by dark hair. He’s rock hard in your hands and before you can waste any more time your pussy is stretched open around him, every inch of his throbbing cock stuffed inside your slick walls.

You sigh contentedly as your heat settles, now that it has a taste of what it wants. Just having him inside you feels better than anything you’ve ever felt before, and a ragged howl escapes his throat at the rough slams of your hips down into his when you finally start to move.

Everything stands still while you take what you need from the alpha beneath you, claim him as your own with high pitched whimpers of his name, giving in to your most primal instincts. Every thrust has the two of you reeling toward the edge of bliss embarrassingly fast, and you grip his hair to force his eyes to yours when you’re close.

“Watch me, John. Watch me cum for you.”

Your efforts double, you slam your mouth into his, taste him for the first time, and cry out against his lips as the tingle of your orgasm spreads through your belly and explodes through you. The feel of you coming around him pushes John past the point of no return and into his rut. He’s tried to hold back, tried to tame the animal inside and protect you the way a good alpha should, but each buck of your hips has him barreling into a rut that you can smell, stifling and hot with a hint of sulfur, while you tremble in his lap and ride out your pleasure.

John’s eyes change- swirl from deep brown into an onyx wash that clears into a deep red that mirrors the emergency lights of the bunker. His body shakes and spikes another ten degrees in an instant and when you’re sure he’s about to actually catch on fire, an electric pulse consumes him, and then you. The surge shoots out of your bodies and the bunker lights flash with loud sparking pops before instant darkness falls through the bunker.

The red emergency lights and bright white flood lights kick a moment later, just in time for you to see John’s muscles tensing as he pulls at the chains he’s wrapped in, his rut taking him to full power. They groan and creak, and it’s when one snaps with a loud rattle that you realize the true strength of him.

“Oh my god.” You cower in awe, hormones no longer fuzzing your brain, before scrambling out of his lap. However, you’re not quite quick enough to facilitate your escape.

“You’re mine.”

A thick arm wraps around your back, and you shriek at the sharp sting of his claws on your hip. His one-handed attempt to keep you there with him draws blood, and you desperately wriggle out of his hold and off of his lap before rushing off into the bunker.

Two hallways pass by your sides before the clamor of breaking chain and splintering wood rattles into the bunker and stops you in your tracks. The wolf in him cries out for you, and a primal part of you is desperate to howl back. An eerie silence follows, sinks in bone deep, and you clap a hand over your mouth to stay quiet when you start moving again.

You don’t get very far before you walk into a brick wall of his scent, tumbling further under a tall, crashing wave of heat trying to drag you down to the depths of a hellfire made of a Winchester. The scent of the alpha radiates strong and insistent, and the door shuts quietly behind you as you slip inside, eyes keenly observing your room drenched in John’s scent.

At first glance, you see no differences, but the weight of the air tells you to look closer, and when you do you find that everything in your room is slightly off; as if all of your personal possessions have been picked through but weren’t put back into their rightful place.

The sheets on the bed have clearly been slept in and a pair of your underwear on the ground catch your eye. The soft pink material is moist when you pick them up and the smell that wafts up from them is unmistakable.They fall to the ground without a sound and you shakily wipe John’s cum off of your hands onto your sheets with a grimace of repulsion. How many times had he used your clothes for his pleasure? How many times had he laid in your bed, eyed the photos of your long gone family and defiled your intimacy?

John hadn’t even met you, yet, but from the time the boys brought him home he’s picked you open and left you exposed, vulnerable, and violated. He’s been living in the walls of your home, spending his nights in your bed just waiting for his moment to strike. The thought leaves your legs weak beneath you and you suddenly can’t breathe.

Bursting out of your room, you cling to the walls for support, searing pressure building in your lower belly as you move. If you’re in pain, you must be getting farther away from him. The hope in that thought is enough to stifle the pain and you’re crawling toward the library when your name is howled out into the bunker.

“Alpha,” you moan back against your own will, hands clapping over your mouth in an effort to stop the sound that’s already made its escape.

Two steps forward, five steps back.

Soft shuffling off in the distance switches directions and you know that John heard you call out for him. Panic bubbles in your blood and you battle pain, confusion, and need as you turn left toward your imminent escape path, eyes cast behind you in apprehension. You make it less than halfway down the long hall before you turn your eyes forward, finally sure that you’re on the path to freedom.

Stopping in your tracks, you stare in horror at the dead end before you. In your panic, you realize that you were supposed to turn right to get out, and you’ve just sealed your fate with one wrong turn.

Adrenaline and defeat kick around in your body and you know he’s going to find you. On cue, your body grows warmer, slicker and needier for him, and an electric crackle fills the air, telling you he’s getting close. He knows your scent too well and though you can’t see him, you’ve already been caught. Running will only make you weaker, so your stand still, waiting for the inevitable.

Soft shuffling has your ears pricking up at attention and your heart stops when you finally muster the gall to turn around and face your fate. John’s looming at the end of the hall, standing stock still just long enough for your pussy to leak and flutter for him. It’s that reaction that has him barreling down the hall on all fours like an animal, red eyes gleaming, claws scraping at the floor. He’s the most feral, lethal predator you’ve ever seen and this is what Sam and Dean warned you about. This is how you’ll meet your end- throat torn out by this hell sent Alpha with a cursed last name.

The child in your soul is the first to react, and your hands fly to cover your eyes. Maybe if you squeeze them shut tight hard enough you’ll wake up from this bad dream. Maybe you’ll be able to crawl back into your mother’s bed and find safety in her arms instead of death in John’s.

Your palms press painfully hard against your eyelids while you wait for the hit that never comes. What feels like years pass without a sound, and when you finally let your hands fall from your eyes all you can see is John’s mouth, the tension at the corners where he’s trying to restrain the snarl, white teeth practically dripping.

Body trembling and petrified at the way you pine for him, this wild stranger in front of you, your feet take a step closer to him without your permission. When your chest presses to his, the tears finally roll down your cheek and his mouth slams into yours. He hauls you up off the ground and your legs wrap around his waist before you’re slammed against the wall. All it takes is a slight shift of his hips and he’s inside of you again, splitting you open and swallowing your cries. He spins and a door breaks against the bottom of his boot a few seconds later, clattering to the floor while he lays you down on the bed and fucks an orgasm out of you with splinters still in your hair.

The orgasm hits hard and you’re still writhing in pleasure when John pulls out, shoves you up the bed, and pushes his mouth as far between your legs as it can go. He’s only just begun, but you’ve never been touched this way- this profound or this intensely. If you weren’t still in a blur, you’d be wondering how long John’s waited to worship someone like this.

Every lungful of air you’re able to suck in sticks heavy in your chest and throat. There’s a weight to the room that feels like you’re on another planet. In another dimension. All you can manage are gasps and moans and you finally splutter out ‘how?!’ because your brain literally cannot understand it. How can this feel so good? How can this possibly feel so right? How does he fit here so well?

He grins up at you, fire in his wild gleaming eyes when he growls, “Let’s not ruin a meal by talking about the process.”

As he devours you, takes you apart piece by piece, his lust-blown eyes shine up at you. They hold a lifetime of secrets and your body steals any semblance of control you might have been holding onto, bucks up into his mouth, pushes itself into his hands.

John holds you like you’re the most important thing he’s ever beheld. His infatuation and reverence sparks an epiphany. The monster between your legs isn’t donning a mask. John is a mirror, clear and revealing, exposing a part of you that you never knew you had before.

You moan his name, voice hard and eager to please. Eager to be pleased, filled, fucked ten ways to Sunday. You want John to ruin you, split you open with that cock and make you a ragged shell for nothing but pleasure and pups. The more he takes of you the more you want him; and the more you give in, the less afraid you are--of him and of your own desire.

John fucks you raw and hard like an animal, bruises your wrists and sinks his teeth into your body, breaking the skin here and there, licks and sucks marks between the bites he has no control over. What started as worship turns to chaos, and true to his word, he doesn’t relent, not even when you’re begging for mercy. Claws leave raised welts and lines of blood over your body as he digs his hands into your flesh, pushes and pulls you where he wants you, handling you like a rag doll for his pleasure.

The sheets beneath you are bloody and somewhere in his frenzied mating you feel yourself tearing around him in a sharp sting. A moment later, your inner thighs are wet with blood and slick and the wet squelch only has him bucking into you deeper and faster. Salty tears run down your cheeks as you cry out, but John ignores them and suffocates you beneath him. His claws scratch at your skin when he wraps a hand around your neck and grunts into your ear.

“Right here, Y/n. That’s where my mark is going. You ready for it?”

The question goes unanswered; all you can manage are strangled groans of ‘alpha’ and sobs of pain and fear before his pace speeds up. His knot throbs inside of you, stretches your walls that much more, and he pulls back enough to look down at you.

Tears litter your cheeks and you’re flushed, wrecked, and battered under his hands. John drives in deep with a smile on his mouth, savors the way you wince in pain at the feel of him slamming against your cervix like he’s trying to fuck your womb.

Long canines bite down hard where your neck and shoulder meet as John slams into you one final time. The red floodlights bathing the scene flicker and surge as your energies peak. His knot pops deep inside, painfully thick, locking him in place as he cums with a roaring howl that matches your own. The sound is guttural, primal, filled with pleasure and pain, and loud enough for Sam and Dean to hear from outside.

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

An hour after he’s claimed you and his knot has popped inside of you, you lay in his arms, unsure of everything other than the fact that you belong there. That John belongs inside of you, pressed deep and eternal. Every bit of your body hurts and his hands smooth over you, gentler than you even think possible, like a monster soothing a lamb before the slaughter. The white gleam of the flood lights in the hall outside illuminate the side of his face when he smiles softly down at you, his teeth and hands still stained with your blood.

Fear has a hold on you, hasn’t fully let you go yet. John is a stranger to you but here you are, clinging to his warm chest, body and soul marked as his in every way, forever. There’s a depth to his mossy brown eyes that reminds you of the men on the outside. Of Dean. The alpha who’s cared for you in the past, taken you in, and given you a home and family to love like your own.

It seems a lifetime ago since you were in this same position with Dean. From the first time you met, every heat and rut you went through, you went through together. The memories of how he used to kiss you, soft and comforting, and tell you cute jokes while his knot deflated send flickering warmth through your heart. But all too quickly, the happy memory is followed by a pang of hurt shooting through you.

Like magnets, you were drawn to each other, but Dean never claimed you because deep down you both knew that you weren’t his to have. Now, with John’s mark on your neck, heats and ruts with Dean are gone and you can’t help but wonder what the future will hold. If every heat and rut will feel like this one, or if you might be lucky enough to get a glimpse of the caring, playful alpha of your past. Tears roll down your cheeks and your mouth quivers at the thought of living with such brutality.

“You have his eyes,” you finally say, unable to keep the thought of Dean to yourself any longer. His brow furrows and you clear your throat. “Dean’s eyes.” He doesn’t respond, just levels you with a look you can’t place. “Well, I guess he has yours.”

A hasty kiss cuts off any other thoughts and you give in, letting that mouth soothe you in all the ways you know it can’t...shouldn’t. Not right now. Not yet. Not when you’re still reeling with fear and confusion and the crackling flame of your heat casting grim shadows through your future.

“I know,” he coos, his gravelly voice wrecked with emotions you’re both trying to come to terms with. “This isn’t the way it’s supposed to happen. Not me meeting you, and definitely not this….”

John’s long fingers swipe over his claim on your neck, retreating at the small wince of pain he earns from you. Guilt worms into his chest and he holds you there, mouth just a kiss away from his.

He knows the answer but asks anyway. “Are you scared of me?”

You nod, shy but honest. “Yes.”

John hisses in disappointment, at himself and at you. How could you not love him the way he loves you? The way he’s loved you since he set foot in here and smelled you lingering in the air. He felt you wrap yourself around him when he paced the halls at night; slept in your bed to know you just a little more. He’s been obsessed with the ghost of you, and now you’re his.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for you,” he admits, and your heart flutters, caught off guard by the meaning behind it. “Always thought it was Mary, but the second I walked in here, I knew. It was you.”

“I don’t want this,” your mouth spits out before you can stop it, before you can realize that you’re lying to his face.

John grins, gummy and wide, strikes fear in you with his irrefutable confidence but pulls you closer and speaks against your lips. “I knew, Y/n. Smelled this omega pussy every time I walked by your room. Didn’t say anything to the boys about it- didn’t wanna upset them- but I knew you before they even told me your name or that they had my omega here just waiting for me to come and claim her.” His hands stroke your cheeks and those eyes bore into you and unhinge you with the kind of care that only someone truly out of control can conjure.

“I could feel your energy when I touched your things, could smell this hot cunt on your laundry.” He inhales, the action crude and obscene. “Sleep didn’t come so easy, but the second I laid down in here it was like I could feel you pressing yourself up against me. I knew you and had you every night, so when I smelled you come through the door I knew I had to lock myself up or this would happen.” A chuckle escapes his lips. “Well, guess it was meant to happen, huh?”

Even with his claim on your neck, you can’t do anything other than gape at him. You’re mortified and enthralled by his words, and secretly long for freedom from his overwhelming intensity.

He shifts a little so you can feel his knot inside you and coos gently at the anxious whimper you let out. Gathering you closer to him, John feels your heart race against his. As if his touch is all you need, the exhaustion of the day starts to drag you down and there’s blood on his tongue when he kisses you goodnight.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ve gotcha.”

Those are the last words you hear before tumbling into a dark and dizzying sleep.

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

When you wake, it’s to the feel of thick fingers splaying you open, rubbing your swollen labia and massaging your inner thighs. Time is lost in the bunker and in your heat. It could be twenty minutes or a year later and your body wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Not when broad shoulders have your thighs pushed apart, the contented sigh on your lips turning harsh at the slick drag of John’s tongue.

He licks over you, parts your folds to find your clit, then sucks hard and makes his way down to your fucked-out slit. The wet, thick squish of his old cum seeping out of you vanishes when John forces his tongue inside to scoop it out and swallow it down. Shuddering violently against it, you fist his hair and kick off the blankets to finally look down at him. His eyes are red and your fever is raging again.

“My boys ever do this? Eat their cum from your little omega pussy?” he asks. It’s dirty and fucked up, wrong on so many levels, but he’s got a gleam in those treacherous eyes and you moan back against your better judgment.

“Don’t… keep it in me.”

Pride overwhelms him and his teeth dent his lower lip as he grins up at you. “Okay, sweetheart-” he sinks his fangs lightly into your flesh, holds it for a second and then gives you the painful satisfaction of breaking the skin- “yeah, let’s keep it in you. Make sure we get some pups in this gorgeous belly.”

Mewling in agreement, he releases his bite on your inner thigh and stalks back over you. Eager to feel him inside of you again, you pull at him and whimper his name so needy and so sweet that he sinks into you while he’s still soft. He’s pliant and warm as he pushes his old cum back into you, until he’s as deep as he can go, blunt tip squished up against your cervix. John’s right back where he belongs, and you can’t help but whimper at the small amount of lost cum that seeps out around him. As if he knows what you’re thinking, he licks at your lips, lets you taste his seed on his tongue and assures you in that midnight-dark voice the way only a stranger, only a soulmate, can.

“Don’t worry, omega. Your heat’s not done yet, and I’ve only just started my rut. We’ll get another load in here, soon enough. You’re gonna be so full of me and my pups.” He kisses your jaw. “All round.” Fingers squeeze at your tender breasts. “So beautiful,” he grunts, thrusting up enough for you to wince at the tight pinch of him so deep.

His mouth follows a pre-marked path down to the fresh marks on your neck -- the one bite on your body that actually means anything -- and his long, sharp fangs reopen his mark and sink down further into your flesh to solidify his claim. The power of his bite aches deep into the muscle and blood seeps out of the corners of his mouth. Sucking and licking your claim, John bites you over and over, deeper each time. All you can do is gasp and groan beneath him in pain and arousal, fingers raising blood on his back as you scratch a path down to his ass to pull him in closer. Trying to fuse your body and his in any way possible, to share breaths and blood if you can, even if it’s only through your warm needy mouths.

“Those boys aren’t getting to you any time soon, Y/n. I don’t think this place is gonna let anyone in or out until I’m done with you.” His hand wraps around your neck, pushes high to grip the edge of your jaw, and the pinch of his fingers against the bone lures a hiss from deep within you. “You’re mine, understand?”

You nod as best you can, eyes fluttering shut as he grows harder inside you and hotter against you with another flare of his rut. There isn’t anything in the world that could take this from you. You don’t know John, especially this dark version of him spat out of hell, but you’re his and he’s yours. True mates. And you’re convinced that the strong current that vibrates between you will keep you locked in here with him until your heat and his rut have died off.

“All fucking mine,” he says as he pulls you closer, the promise raw and real, and you’ll follow this monster anywhere.

Even to your death.

#john winchester x reader #alpha x omega #flamencodivacelebrates1700 #that's some supernatural schitt #firefly's summer challenge

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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What Baking Can Do (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: Rosé keeps making food for Denali as a way of expressing her crush, not knowing that Denali feels the same way.

A/N: Writing has been slow for me lately, but I'm glad I was able to finish this! It's basically just pure fluff, and I hope you enjoy! Please leave some feedback if you'd like, I really appreciate it! Thank you to Writ for betaing!

Title from the song from Waitress because I'm basic.

Rosé might live in the city now, but in the small southern town where she spent most of her childhood, every woman had an arsenal of pie and casserole recipes to whip out at a moment’s notice for birthdays, funerals, and new neighbors.

Rosé just so happens to have a new neighbor, and as she knocks on the door, a fresh strawberry pie in one hand, she feels the pride her mother must have felt in welcoming someone new, giving them a nice gift.

Even if she’s already friends with the new neighbor she’s welcoming.

“You didn’t have to do this, Rosie,” Denali says as she takes the pie, a huge smile on her face showing her dimples. “I mean, we’re already friends. Hell, I should make you something for telling me about this apartment in the first place.”

It’s true that Rosé had gone right to Denali when she found out the apartment was up for sale, knowing that she and her roommate Kahmora hated the tiny apartment they had, with the shower that always broke and the heat that never went on. She was just helping out a friend. A friend she’s just happened to have a crush on for a year now, since the night Jan introduced them at some club.

“It’s nothing,” Rosé insists. “You know I like to bake.”

“Why complain, Denali?” Kahmora asks. “It’s food that’s actually edible.”

“My food is perfectly edible!” Denali sputters. She bites her lip as Kahmora stares, and nods in admittance to herself. “Look, no one’s ever died from eating my cooking.”

“No one’s ever really enjoyed it, either,” Kahmora mumbles under her breath.

Rosé holds back a smile. Denali’s struggles in the kitchen have been well-known in the time Rosé’s known her, with Rosé’s favorite being the pancakes that Denali somehow burnt and left raw at the same time. She’s always been so busy with skating and work that she never got much practice at cooking, and Rosé pushes away the thought of teaching her, of her hand curling around Denali's as they mix ingredients.

“Keep mumbling, Kahmora. Maybe I’ll eat the whole pie myself.”

“I’ll see you, Denali.” Rosé leaves them to fight over the pie and heads back down the hall, passing apartments full of people she’d welcomed with food at one point. There’s Kylie and her roommates Ra’jah and Scarlet, who loved the peach cobbler Rosé made. Then Brooke and Vanessa, who demolished her chocolate cake, next door to Raja and Manila, who she still makes almond tarts for from time to time. It’s Rosé’s favorite part of making something, really--to have someone love it so much. Rosé thinks of the smile on Denali’s face and knows this won’t be the last time she makes her something.

—-

Rosé’s normally much smoother, more confident. If Denali were anyone else, Rosé would’ve been open about her crush and already asked her out months ago. But there’s something different about Denali, something that makes Rosé hesitant to take such a leap, to confess her feelings, because if it ruins things between them, then she’d lose a friend she really cares about.

Food is safer than feelings, so Rosé ignores everything and busies herself in making dinner, not realizing how much spaghetti she’s making until it’s all piled in the bowl. There’s enough to feed a village, even after she and Jan eat. Rosé stares at the bowl and figures Denali wouldn’t mind some.

Her heart leaps into her throat when Denali opens the door. Her hair is up in a bun and she looks adorable in her tie dye sweatshirt, soft and sweet in a way that makes Rosé’s chest hurt.

“I made way too much food,” Rosé says, handing Denali the bowl. “I didn’t want to waste it, so I figured I’d give you some.”

“Thank you.” Denali flashes her dimples. “Hey, do you want to come in? Kahmora’s out with some friends.”

“Sure.” Rosé follows close behind Denali, moving past boxes she hasn't unpacked yet on their way to the kitchen. The apartment feels like Denali already, with sneakers by the door and video games in the living room.

Denali hums with joy as she eats the first bite, and Rosé grins, her body buzzing with that rush of someone loving what she made. No matter how many times it happens, it will always be special to her.

“How was work?” Rosé asks.

“It was good! My coffee tasted so good this morning, and all my lessons went well, and I saw this adorable dog—not as adorable as you, Donut,” Denali adds to her dog, who’s curled up under the table.

Rosé just laughs as Denali talks, and it’s easy. So easy. Easy being friends like this, just talking and laughing. Watching Denali’s eyes widen and listen to her laugh just makes Rosé like her more, but it also makes her want to hold back on admitting her crush a bit more. Because the more she likes Denali, the more she has to lose if things go wrong.

Denali bursts into laughter as Rosé shares stories of her day, and it’s enough.

—-

It’s nice, knowing Denali is open to accepting leftovers. Rosé usually makes small recipes for her and Jan, and it’s nice to make whatever she wants, even if it feeds a crowd, and just bring some down the hall instead of giving herself a headache trying to halve fractions of ingredients.

She makes chicken and potatoes and cookies and brownies, extras carefully wrapped up and delivered to Denali, each one letting them have time to talk and just be around each other. They talk about work, about friends, about funny things Donut did that day. And Rosé loves every second of it.

Rosé finds herself making more things than she probably should, but she can’t help it. Cooking started out as a stress reliever for her, when she and Jan were up to their eyes in paperwork trying to open the dance and vocal studio. Jan suggested she make something to relax, and Rosé remembered how much she had loved to be at her mother’s side when she was little, watching her roll out pie crust. She remembered how much she loved creating something out of a pile of ingredients, the soothing repetition of mixing batter, the joy of watching someone eat what she made.

She’s made things all the time since, and part of her knows she’s making more now just so she can give them to Denali. Jan’s always teased her for baking enough to run a bakery when she’s in love, and Rosé doesn’t want to admit how true it is. Because baking is a form of love for her, a way of transforming her love and work into something people can eat. A way of caring for them and loving them at the same time.

Not that Denali knows any of that.

---

Denali sighs as she shuffles to the elevator after the skating class from hell. She had parents almost fight her because costumes haven’t come in yet, like Denali controls the mail, then yell at her some more for not giving their kid the solo in the group performance.

Rosé slips in the elevator with her, and Denali smiles a bit just seeing her, with her big green eyes and soft red waves. Rosé always makes her happy, since the night they met, and being around her just feels right to Denali. So right that Denali likes to invite her in when she drops off food, just for an excuse to spend more time with her. So right that Denali wishes they could do it all the time, that they could always be close, maybe even close enough to kiss--but no, they’re nothing more than friends. Especially not when Denali is standing here in old sweatpants and smelling like a skating rink locker room. How could Rosé ever like her back anyway? She makes fancy pastries with fancy names and Denali almost set ramen on fire once.

“Rough day?” Rosé asks.

Denali groans as her answer. “If I ever become a parent, please don’t let me be like the ones at the skating rink.”

Rosé snorts. “Tell me about it. I’ve had parents follow me to the parking lot because their kid isn’t famous yet.”

Denali manages a smile. It’s nice to know she isn’t the only one, that someone else understands.

“Is there anything I can do?” Rosé asks.

Denali’s heart flutters at how she’s always so caring, so kind. Just friends, they’re just friends. “I don’t think so. I’ll probably just take a bath and watch TV. Thanks, though.”

“Of course.”

They head to their own apartments, and Denali soaks in the tub until the water runs cold, the stress of the day leaving her.

There’s a knock on her door as she turns on the TV. Denali groans and throws the door open, only to find a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the welcome mat.

Still warm.

---

Rosé turns down the hall and almost smacks into her neighbor, Kylie, who’s on her way to walk her dog. Gizmo licks happily at Rosé’s ankle, and she would pet him like she normally does, but her hands are full of the pan that might be just a little too big, if Kylie’s staring is any indication.

“What’s that?”

“Mac and cheese I made for Denali.”

Kylie blinks at her. “Hun, are you sure that’s for Denali and not a school cafeteria?”

“Well, I mean, she can freeze it if she wants,” Rosé stammers.

“I hope she’s got a big freezer.” Kylie looks at her thoughtfully. Rosé’s always thought Kylie has some sixth sense, able to figure out your feelings and what you need to hear just from looking at you, and she’s about to be on the receiving end of it. “You should tell her,” Kylie says softly.

Rosé doesn’t bother to ask how she knows. “I don’t—I don’t want to lose her if she doesn’t feel the same way,” Rosé says, eyes on the floor.

“I don’t think you have to worry.” Kylie heads for the stairs, and Rosé stands in the hall like an idiot before taking a breath and going to Denali’s door.

Someday. Maybe someday she’ll tell her.

—-

Denali knocks on Rosé’s apartment, trying to calm her heart. There’s no reason for it to be racing like this, not when she’s knocked on Rosé’s door to bring back her food containers a dozen times. Not when she talks to Rosé almost every day.

Denali isn’t sure if she’s disappointed or relieved when Jan opens the door.

“I just wanted to bring Rosé her plate back,” Denali says.

Jan nods. “I’ll give it to her. You can come in, if you want. There’s some leftover blondies on the counter.”

Denali follows her inside, taking in the apartment with wide eyes like she’s never seen it before. Being in the kitchen feels special, like she’s in Rosé’s sacred space. Denali peeks at the soft pink stand mixer and utensils beside it, at the worn recipe box and well-used cookbooks on the other counter. She thinks of Rosé standing here, carefully measuring out ingredients, flour in her red hair, and her heart tugs painfully. What she would give to be around Rosé in her element like this, at her side while she cooks. “She really likes cooking, huh?”

Jan rolls her eyes. “You have no idea. She loves cooking for people, especially when she really likes them. It’s basically her love language. When she was with her last girlfriend, this place was like a freaking bakery. Not that I’m complaining, because her stuff is amazing. Even if she makes a giant mess of the place.”

“It is,” Denali says, but then she freezes as Jan’s words hit. Especially when she really likes them. Does that mean Rosé likes her? Likes her as more than a friend, if she cooks this much when she really likes someone? If cooking is her love language? It’s normal for Rosé to cook a lot, Jan said so. And Rosé still cooks for other people, has her friend Lagoona over for dinner every week. But Denali thinks of how many carefully-wrapped plates and full containers Rosé has given her the past few months, juicy chicken and thick soups and buttery shortbread cookies, and knows it’s more than anyone else has gotten. Rosé likes her, and the food is her way of showing it.

Denali usually isn’t so oblivious. Then again, she usually isn’t so hesitant around her crushes either. But maybe she was so oblivious and hesitant with Rosé because she didn’t possibly think Rosé could like her back.

But Rosé does. She likes Denali.

And if food is love to Rosé, then Denali has an idea.

---

Rosé hums as she unlocks her apartment. Jan has a date tonight, so it’s just her, and she’s really in the mood for takeout. Maybe she’ll order from that Chinese place--

Rosé drops her keys when sees someone in the apartment, and she drops her heart when she realizes the person is Denali. Denali, who’s standing in her living room for some reason.

“Um, not that I’m not happy to see you, Denali,” Rosé says, easing her way inside, “But what the hell?”

Denali’s cheeks are flushed and some hair has escaped her ponytail, and her smile is one of the brightest she’s ever seen. “Jan let me in so I could surprise you.”

“Well, I’m definitely surprised.”

“But not surprised enough,” Denali gloats.

“There’s more? Haven’t I had enough near-heart attacks today?”

Denali just smirks and leads her into the kitchen, where Rosé sees the table laid out with candles and a fancy tablecloth and huge platters of food.

“I thought I’d cook for you for a change,” Denali says. “I’m not the greatest, but they’re my mom’s recipes and I had her FaceTime me to help, and I don’t think you’ll get food poisoning or anything—“

“You cooked for me,” Rosé says softly, looking at Denali in awe.

“I did.” Denali bites her lip, and her cheeks flush even more. “Rosé, I--I realized how much cooking means to you. And what you were trying to tell me with your food. I want to tell you that I...I feel the same way. I like you, I’m trying to say, and that’s why I wanted to cook for you.”

Rosé reaches for Denali’s hand, squeezing it gently for proof that this is real. That Denali really does like her too. That Denali took all the love Rosé puts into her cooking and gave it back to her. “I like you so much, Denali. For a while now. I just wasn’t sure if you--”

“Well I wasn’t sure if you would like me,” Denali laughs softly.

Rosé snorts. “We could’ve done this a while ago if we weren’t idiots.”

“But we’re doing it now.” And then Denali is leaning in, her lips meeting Rosé’s like coming home. Denali’s kiss is soft and sweet, just like her, warm and passionate yet still gentle. It’s everything Rosé has dreamt of, and she can’t resist going back in for another.

And another.

“Hey, the food’s gonna get cold,” Denali says, and they laugh all the way to the table.

#submission #rpdr fanfiction #denali foxx #rosé #jan sport #kylie sonique love #rosnali #lesbian au #fluff #athena2 #concrit welcome

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anna-justice · 4 years

Text

Fever Dream - Upstead

Summary: Jay relives the aftermath of his shooting while Hailey is in New York. (What should have happened during 7x19!!)

Warnings: angst, self pity?

Requested: No

...

“What were you going to say?”

Those words have haunted Jay since the moment he uttered them. There were so many other things he could have said. He could have said that he needed to tell her something too, he could have told her that she meant the world to him, he could’ve told her that he loved her too. But, he didn’t say any of those things and he was convinced that his excuse for a response was the reason he was drinking alone at Molly’s for the 3rd night in a row.

Hailey was in New York and Jay couldn’t help but feel slightly to blame. He wasn’t sure what had gone down between her and Voight, but whatever was said after Darius’s death resulted in him losing his partner, and drinking buddy, for the foreseeable future.

Their “think that works” had become an excuse to see each other even after a not so bad case, not that Jay minded. However, he’d learned the past few nights that he had lost all ability to pace himself. Hailey could drink with the best of them, so he always found himself switching to water early in the night or nursing 2 or 3 to make sure that she would home okay. But, without her here there was no reason for him to stop.

He sat by himself in the back, away from the buzz of first responders that crowded the bar. His finger hovered over her contact, he was debating calling her, but in his drunken state he wasn’t sure he could hold his tongue. He slammed his phone down on the table and ran his hands through his hair.

Once again he heard his words like a ringing in his ear. “What were you going to say?”

He couldn’t help but think that if he had laid his heart out in front of Hailey then that she would be in front of him right now. They could’ve handled Darius together. Jay laughed at his own stupidity. He was almost sure that Hailey reciprocated his feelings. He had heard from Adam and Kevin how distraught she was when he was shot, he always read in Tudy’s comments. He noticed Vanessa’s glances when the two of them together, and he saw the look in Hailey’s eye that day in the hospital. Something had changed, he knew it. But no matter how many times he convinced himself that she felt the same way, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her how he felt. Which is why his insinuation to himself that they could have handled Darius together seemed so out of touch, why was he waiting for some confession to change things between them. They could’ve handled Darius together, but he was too afraid to push her to let him in any further.

“What were you going to say?”

He needed sleep. He had lost count of how many beers he’s had a long time ago. He was surprised that Herrmann hadn’t cut him off. But little did he know, most everyone he knew was waiting for the figurative love shoe to drop. The unit watched him mope around the district, watched his face light up when she called, even though she had only been gone a week, it was obvious that he missed her terribly. They all felt bad for the detective in some capacity, everyone but the two guilty parties could tell that they were meant for each other. Even Voight, who had sent Hailey away in the first place, felt for Jay.

Knowing that driving was no where close to an option, he called a cab, even though he wasn’t too fond of leaving his beloved truck behind. Unfortunately, the alcohol in his system not only loosened his filter, it caused his mind to roam to places he usually avoided at all costs.

This wasn’t the first time that he lost a partner to New York. He knew Hailey was a damn good detective and that she would be crazy to leave a promised position at the FBI and come back to Chicago, back to him. And no matter how many times he told himself that Hailey wasn’t Erin, he was still terrified that she would decide to stay and somehow that hurt more than walking around with an engagement ring.

If he had told her how he felt, she would have something solid to come home too, or at least he wouldn’t be so loaded down by regret. There was only one way to make sure that he had all of his cards in play, to make sure that Hailey knew how important she was. He had to go to New York.

…

Jay woke up the next morning to a pounding headache and little memory of the night before. He padded to his kitchen, looking for anything that could dull the pain in his head. He scrolled through his texts, trying to find any clue of what happened the night before. He settled in on his couch, clutching a cup of coffee for dear life.

He was scrolling through twitter when he got an email from Allegiant Airlines. Clicking on the notification, Jay’s eyes went wide.

Saturday, March 28, 2020

7:30 PM to 9:25 PM Seats: 1

Chicago New York Class: Economy (V)

O’Hare JFK Meals: N/A

International International

Airport Airport

You’re flight has been confirmed!

Thank you for flying with us, Allegiant Airlines

“Holy shit.” Jay said as he read the confirmation over and over again. He must have bought a flight to New York last night. He ran his hands over his face and groaned.

He could email them and hope for a refund, or, he could go. He could go see Hailey and tell her everything. At that point it wasn’t even a question, he was going to New York.

The rest of the day after the realization was a whirlwind. He called Voight and got the next few days off work, he was hoping he wouldn’t end up on a plane back home tonight. He called Will, who gave him crap about not chickening out this time. The brothers had a heart to heart, which was rare for them, but by the end Jay was feeling pretty good about the night ahead of him.

As he waited in the security line he contemplated calling Hailey, but the fear of her telling him not to come was overwhelming. He was anxious the whole flight, his knee bouncing consistently. He was sure the people around him were aggravated by his heavy breathing constant shaking. When the plane landed he was the first one off. He had only packed a carry on, so he skipped baggage claim. As he walked out and faced the city he remembered the last time he was there, with Erin. It was during the case involving her brother. They were working with detectives from the Special Victims Unit. He spent almost the whole trip convincing them, and himself, that he and Erin were just partners. And then she was hit by the bicyclist and ended up in the hospital after she passed out in his arms. There were a million memories that revolved around this city, mainly because the only two women that he ever truly loved were in it.

He pushed the thoughts of Erin away as he exited his taxi in front of Hailey’s hotel. The speech he had been preparing for whole day left him. He climbed on the elevator and clicked the button for the 7th floor, where Hailey’s room was. A moment later he was standing in front of her room, contemplating walking away and never telling her that he was there. He held tight to the strap of his backpack, taking a deep breath. Here goes nothing. Then he knocked on the door.

A few seconds later it swung open to reveal a very shocked Hailey. “Jay?”

“Hi.” Was all he could say, the smile on her face was confirmation that he had made the right decision. She wasted no time launching herself into his arms. He dropped his bag, kicking it so that it would prop the door open and held her to him. He realized that they had never really hugged before, it had always been random arm touches or comforting squeezes, but never a hug. The feeling of her arms wrapped around his neck was amazing and he was extremely disappointed when she pulled away.

She had a cheeky smile on her face as she pushed a piece of hair behind her ear and pushed the door open. “Come in,” Jay did as he was told and waltzed in the room, his stomach churning with nerves. “What are you doing here?”

Jay shrugged, “I wanted to see you.”

Hailey chuckled, “It’s only been a week, Jay.”

“I know.” He said, looking her straight in the eye. “That's too long.” Hailey was the first to look away and Jay swore he saw a hint of color to her cheeks.

“Well, this certainly was a surprise.” She says anxiously. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”

Jay laughs, “Yeah, me neither. I impulse bought the ticket last night.” He says, leaving out the part where he got drunk missing her and blackout bought a plane ticket.

“How’s Chicago?” She asks.

Jay sighed, “Not the same without you.”

“Jay-”

“No Hailey, let me say this.” He said cutting her off. Hailey’s face was unreadable as he searched for the right words. “I’ve been thinking about you since you left, all the time actually, and I kept thinking about Erin and how she left and never came back…” Hailey’s eyes went wide and Jay realized his mistake. “Not that I’m comparing you to Erin, because I know you aren’t her and you will never be anything like her. It’s just, you left and I’ve been miserable and I guess what I’m trying to say is I-”

Suddenly Hailey closes the gap in between them, pressing her lips firmly against his. Jay steps back in shock, but catches her and holds her to him. His eyes flutter shut as she places her hand on the nape of his neck, his arms on the small of her back as she arches slightly. The kiss is intense and passionate and over too soon as Hailey pulls away. “Sorry, what were you going to say?”

Jay holds her cheek in his hand, and finally says the words that she has been waiting for for so long. “I love you, Hailey.”

The smile on Hailey’s face is unmatchable, “I love you so much.” She can barely get the words out before he kisses her again. This time lifting her up so that her legs wrap around his waist, she grips his hair causing him to moan and Hailey takes it as an opportunity to slip her tongue into his mouth. Jay sits on the bed behind him, laying down so that she’s on top of him. Her hands slip under his shirt, running her fingers over his muscular chest.

Jay gives her one more hard kiss before pulling away. “Hailes,” He says as he rubs the pad of his thumb over her cheek. Hailey lays down on his chest, face tucked into his neck and a leg thrown over his. “This is enough for tonight.”

“Just hold me.” Jay happily obliges, tightening his grip around her. He smiles down at the girl in his arms, content that he has nothing left to say.

#jay halstead #hailey upton #upstead #chicago pd #hailey upton imagine #jay halstead imagine #hailey upton x jay halstead #one chicago #chicago pd imagine

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izzielizzie · 4 years

Text

Chapter Six

Weekend runs are bliss. Early morning air fills my lungs and all the worries from the week: Vanessa hijacking the soccer team, TJ showing up everywhere I don’t want him to be, and Bronwyn’s murder investigation, evaporate until the only thing filling my mind is the sound of my music and the ponding of my sneakers on the sidewalk. When I reach the steep hill I use as a marker to end my three miles, I feel motivated enough to keep running, and I can hardly breathe when I reach the top. I’m about the double over and catch my breath when I hear my name being called. I sigh when I recognize the voice. It’s Vanessa. I wonder if it’s too late to pretend I didn’t hear her, but I look up and meet her blue eyes and I have no choice but to walk over to her, where she’s sitting with Cooper, Addy, Luis, and - ugh - TJ. “Maeve! Hi! Fancy seeing you here!” “Vanessa you do realize I live in Bayview right?” Every time Vanessa sees me she acts like I live in Kentucky or something. “I know, I know. I just enjoy seeing you! Do you enjoy seeing me?” I look at Vanessa properly and I realize now why she’s called me over. She’s wearing her soccer uniform. And it has my number from last year. “Sure,” I say. I’m still out of breath and I have no desire to be nice. “Well, I’m so glad I ran into you! Or that you ran into us I guess.” She laughs at her own joke. “I actually wanted your opinion on something. TJ and I are going on a date this weekend and I wanted your advice on where to go.” I’m distracted trying to figure out if bending over to catch my breath would make me look weak, so when I finally register her question all I can do is stare at her. I look between TJ who’s staring at the ground, and Vanessa, who’s smirking at me. Oh this bitch knows exactly what she’s doing. Vanessa continues talking. “Addy was telling us that the beach is great this time of year.” No. No, I can’t do this. I’m gonna faint. Or be sick. Or both. “Vanessa stop,” Luis says, his voice hard. “What? I’m just saying, Maeve knows all about beach dates. She could even-” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence because I’ve turned and started running down the hill again. I can’t see where I’m going through the tears, and I’m so upset that when I feel a pair of hands on my shoulders I panic. I twist and kick out, using the self defense tricks my father taught me ages ago. My foot doesn’t connect with anything though, and it throws me off. “Maeve, Maeve. Stop.” I recognize the voice and I freeze. “Luis?” “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” I can’t see his face through my tears, but his voice is laced with genuine concern and I fall into him, sobbing like my life depends on it. He rubs his hand up and down my back like my mom did when I was a kid, and it’s so relaxing that I can’t even try to imagine how weird we must look: me crying into his chest in the middle of the sidewalk, but I can’t move. I pull away when I’m out of tears, and he gently swipes his thumbs over my cheeks to dry them. “I’m not okay,” I tell him. I know it’s such an obvious thing to say, but as I look into his deep brown eyes that are filled with so much kindness, I feel myself relax for what might be the first time in years. He nods at me. “I know.” “TJ cheated,” I say. I don’t know why I’m telling him, but I haven’t had anyone to talk to lately. Luis’s hand is still on my back, and he’s rubbing small circles on it, almost absentmindedly. It��s nice. He raises his eyebrows at me, telling me to keep talking. “He was at the beach over the summer and he hooked up with Addy and Vanessa found out.” “Dios,” Luis mutters, and I finally realize who I’m talking to. Every time Vanessa subtly attacks me, Luis has been there, and he’s never lifted a finger to stop her. And from what I can tell, he’s suddenly best friends with TJ. I pull away from him. “Not that you’d care,” I mutter. Luis’s face drops and he squeezes my hand the way he did when we were kids. “Maevey, come on.” Maevey. No one has called me that in years. “You stopped talking to me. You stopped caring about me.” Luis and I were best friends when we were kids. Like Nate and Bronwyn. Like Cooper and Addy. All six of us were thick as thieves before my parents sent me to Connecticut to live with my grandparents. When I came back, no one was speaking to each other. When did unconditional love turn into pure hatred? When did we start tearing each other down? Why do we rip each other apart and set fire to the corpse just to watch it burn? Why don’t we patch each other together anymore? I have so many questions for all of them: why did Nate stop laughing? Why can’t Bronwyn relax? Why doesn’t Addy speak her mind? Why is Cooper so hesitant, so perfect? And why doesn’t Luis love me anymore? I guess they have some for me too: why am I so bitter? I’m scared I don’t have the answer. “Maeve,” Luis’s voice jolts me back to myself. “I never stopped caring about you. You left, what was I supposed to do?” “IT WASN’T MY CHOICE.” I tear out of his grasp. I can’t stand being near him. “Maeve, let me drive you home. You’re not thinking straight.” As if. I can’t be in a car with him. “No!” He reaches for me. His hands grip my upper arms and before I can think, I rear back and slap him as hard as I can. “I said no!” I turn and start running before I can even understand what I just did.

Nearly ten hours later, I’m in the ballroom of the grand Bayview hotel that my parents rented out for their charity event. For tonight, we’re a normal family. We stand together, my father in his suit, my mother, sister, and I in our ball gowns. My hair is up, twisted in a knot, and the back of my floor length dress is open. I feel cold, exposed and incredibly raw after this morning. And I also feel so, so, so bad about how I treated Luis. I turned my own anger and fear out on him. He just wanted to make sure I was okay. I can’t be here, talking to the mayor and his wife like I give a damn. I tug on my mother’s sleeve. “Mom, I’m gonna get a drink,” I mutter to her. She nods at me. Normally, she’d insist that I stay with the rest of the family, but everyone’s been walking on eggshells around me since TJ and I broke up. Normally, I’d hate being treated like that, but tonight I’m reveling in the newfound independence. I make my way to the drink table, but before I can even reach it, a tray with a steaming mug of… something materializes in front of me. “Cinnamon hot chocolate? “Wha-” “It’s still your favorite right?” Of course it is. Cinnamon hot chocolate has always been my one true love, but I’m not confused about that. “What are you doing here?” “My father is catering this rather fancy event, and he asked me to help. I could use the money.” How could I forget that his dad owns a café? I used to go there all the time. He pauses and shoots me a wicked grin. “And girls love men in a uniform.” He is wearing a uniform: black slacks, white button down shirt, and a black vest. Pretty standard for waiters. “Girls like men who shut up,” I say as I take the mug from the tray. Luis smiles. “There you are Rojas. You’re sass failed to make an appearance this morning.” I look down at the ground and cup my hands around my steaming mug. When I look up, Luis is looking at me with a look I can’t decipher, but it makes me feel as warm and cozy as the drink in my hands. I shift my mug to one hand and reach up to touch his face with another. “That looks painful,” I say. “You don’t know your own strength.” I laugh a little. “I’m sorry for what I did. It was wrong of me.” “It was,” Luis agrees. I glare at him and he grins. “But I accept your apology.” I return his grin. “What can I do to make it up to you?” Luis’s face takes on an exaggeratedly thoughtful look. “You could serve tables seven and eight for me.” I put my hand on my hip. “I’m being serious here, Santos.” “As am I Rojas,” he says, mimicking my pose. I start laughing at him, and his grin is bright enough to light up a room. I missed that. I missed us. “We could go to the roof. The utility closet is always unlocked. No one would even miss us.” I’m not surprised that he knows this. Luis was always the best person to concoct an escape route. I shift on my uncomfortable heels as I consider his offer and sip my coca. We used to spend ages on the flat part of my garage roof, which was accessible through my window. I’ve missed that too. “Okay,” I finally say. I follow him through the ballroom and into the hallway, where he disposes of his tray and my mug in the hall in front of the kitchen. “You’re so slow,” he says as I trail behind him to the elevator. “My heels are killing me.” “So take them off.” He says this with an easy shrug and a quick grin, like this is the easiest thing in the world. “I’m not walking barefoot,” I say. Luis smiles at me, and before I can understand what is happening, he scoops me up in his arms. “Luis,” I laugh as I link my arms around his neck. I’d tell him to put me down, but I’ve missed this camaraderie with him. “Can’t let you hurt your feet, Maevey.” I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. Luis Santos had always been home to me. For five years I’d been lost without his strong arms and deep brown eyes. I stay in his arms as we push through the doors and step into the twilight. The slanted doors are perfect for laying on, and we stay there for nearly an hour, my head on his shoulder and his arms around me. I wish we could stay here all night, in this world where I never had cancer and was sent to Connecticut because my parents couldn’t deal with the constant pity from everyone. In a world where we were still MaeveandLuis and LuisandMaeve.

#izzielizzie's fics

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fairyqueenofthedragons · 4 years

Text

Not that Kendra

Kendra had just finished setting up her dorm for college.

She had been doing online school, thanks to Andromadus and Bracken working to make her a new identity.

She was still Kendra, just… new social security number. Otherwise it was exactly the same, well, they probably did some other stuff to confirm that she exists, but mostly everything was the same.

She was relieved that they had done it. She didn’t want to have to hide away forever.

But now she was starting college! A year early actually, doing all the work at home was a lot easier and faster than doing it at a school.

She was 17 and at college at last! She couldn’t wait to meet her roommate, and go to classes, and join clubs, and do so much stuff!

Her roommate was a year older than her (expected) but seemed nice enough.

Her side of the room had little fairy lights (ha) and a few plants, her bookshelf with the desk is neatly arranged, her clothes put up, dresser arranged, and her plugs all set up. Plus a few… discreet weapons. Just in case.

She might know how to use her power to fight now, but still, she can’t use that against normal humans without questions happening. Best to keep a few weapons with her, Vanessa helped her get them.

Her roommate had gone out with some friends, so Kendra had the room to herself. She ended up just calling Bracken on her earpiece (bracken had enchanted it like the stones and coins, it didn’t work for anything but talking to him) and wasting away the night talking to him.

+++++++++++++++

Kendra jolted up to her alarm blaring in the morning.

Ah right, time for classes.

She quickly got up and turned off her alarm. Then headed off to grab her toiletries and get ready for the day.

After pulling on her clothes, jeans and a t-shirt with a fairy on it with text saying “I’m Magical” (a joke gift from Seth that was extremely comfortable) she grabbed her bag and made sure she had her books, calculator, and computer.

First class of the day was English, a writing class. She thinks she’ll have fun in it.

Finding the class wasn’t hard, and she has a great teacher! His name was Mr. Shield, how fun! They spent the whole class on the syllabus, and only got through the first two points. Apparently it would take time to get to the actual content of the class.

She also couldn’t help but notice that one of the students in her class was actually not human, she wasn’t sure what kind of magical creature they were. They had flaming hair though. She decided to ignore it for now.

After that class she had an hour break where she grabbed some food from the Einstein bagels (she forgot breakfast) and went over the syllabus for English.

She arrived at her next class, biology, 15 minutes early and sat against the wall to wait, puling out her phone.

College so far seems fun! She can’t wait to find out what her bio teacher is like and English seemed like it wouldn’t be hard and she was really excited for-

“Kendra!?”

She blinked, turning to look.

Oh shit.

It was Alyssa, from her old school, one of her old friends, who think she’s dead.

Uh oh.

“Ken-“ Alyssa had tears in her eyes, “Is that you?”

Uh oh Uh oh Uh oh.

She can’t say yes.

“Um, my name is Kendra, yeah,” this is gonna hurt, “Who are you?”

Alyssa stared, “I-“

The door’s opened suddenly and students came out.

“Well, class is starting, nice to meet you Alyssa!”

Nailed it.

She bolted inside.

++++++++++++++++

Alyssa hadn’t been expecting to see her long dead friend in front of her when she went to Biology.

After Kendra died she’d really doubled down on her schoolwork, ended up skipping a grade. It had hurt a lot to lose Kendra.

She still kept in contact with her other friends, but she felt like she had to do good, if only to do it for Kendra too. They’d used to talk about skipping grades together, being top of their class. She’d done it to honor Kendra, in her memory she would be the best of the best.

And then, she arrived at class, and Kendra was just sitting there, scrolling through her phone, waiting for the doors to open.

And then she claimed to not know Alyssa, up until she bolted inside before Alyssa could answer, and called her by her name.

Kendra was alive somehow, and she was at Alyssa’s college (both of their dream school that they had talked about getting into together all the time). And she was pretending not to know Alyssa.

That wouldn’t stand.

++++++++++++++++++++

Kendra had managed to hide from Alyssa for the rest of class. But she wasn’t sure how long that could stand.

She saw Alyssa trying to follow her after class, but Kendra had lots of experience dogging pursuers, Alyssa would have to do better than that.

Kendra called Bracken though to freak out about it.

“It’s okay Kendra, she can’t be certain as long as you don’t slip up. I’m sorry this is happening though. I know it’s hard to hide from your friend.”

“Yeah, it is. I just want to hug her and cry, but… I can’t.” Kendra kept her head ducked while she talked to Bracken, mentally cause this was a private conversation.

“Well, if you want I can come by.”

“No, it’s fine Bracken, really, I’ll just… avoid her. I like my bio teacher, so I won’t drop the class, but I can sneak past her. It’ll… it’ll be fine.”

“Alright, stay safe Kendra.”

“I will.”

With that Kendra had to move on, she had to get to her next class, then complete the bio homework, and probably the homework for her calc class (oh she suffers).

And calc was hard, they jumped right in, barely an introduction before going into the first subject. She was gonna struggle here a bit, she would have to put extra work in here.

After that she went to the library before doing a quick turn around when she saw Alyssa standing at the entrance looking around.

Maybe there’s a back entrance?

Looking around, out of Alyssa’s sight, she managed to find another entrance, it was locked but banging on the door brought someone over to open it, even if she looked rude.

She ended up spending the rest of the evening there, only realizing when her stomach growled that she’d forgotten lunch.

Well, at least her homework was done, she’d even managed the next calc assignment early, she didn’t fully understand the concepts but she’d looked them up and managed well enough.

She snuck out again through the back entrance, she’d get some Wendy’s, there was one right by her dorm.

She snagged her food, and headed back to her dorm, standing to wait for the elevator, only to realize that Alyssa was there too. She quickly turned to the stairs before Alyssa could see her and started the hike to the 8th floor.

She’d keep in good shape for adventures this way!

The walk itself wasn’t hard, and she ended up going up with the flame haired girl from her English class.

They chatted on the way up and Kendra thinks she made a new friend. She didn’t comment on the fiery hair, and she was pretty sure her light was hidden enough that her new friend (Rachel) didn’t notice it.

Their rooms were on the same floor and comparing classes showed that they had the same teacher for bio, just different sections.

Kendra ended up helping Rachel learn the material from today (for Kendra, Rachel had Tuesday Thursday classes, longer but less often).

After doing that, and eating food, Rachel split back to her room and Kendra dropped into bed, exhausted.

++++++++++++++++++++

Alyssa didn’t understand!

It had been two months since she’d found out Kendra was alive, and she somehow was avoiding her.

Alyssa had seen her around, but she was very good at avoiding Alyssa. And had somehow gained a few friends that were ready to fight Alyssa when they caught Alyssa following them. They threatened to call the police for stalking!?

It was infuriating. That was her Kendra! She wanted to find out how she was alive! She wanted to talk to her! What was going on?

Kendra was never in the library, though somehow bees kept getting in, and she somehow seemed to disappear in Bio, but Alyssa had talked to the teacher and Kendra had perfect attendance.

Trying to find out Kendra’s other classes were an effort in futility. She was excellent at slipping away from Alyssa the few times she saw her. And trying to find her dorm was straight up impossible.

She’d tried to talk to some other students in Bio about setting up a study group and recommended one of them invite Kendra since she was really good at Bio. But when they tried Kendra said she already had a study group!

Alyssa just needed five minutes with Kendra, but it looked like she’d need to call for help.

++++++++++++++++++++++

She really appreciated that the fairy queen had sent a few fairies to help her out. Two of them (very pretty bee fairies) kept an eye on Alyssa, warning Kendra when she got too close. The other three mostly hung around Kendra, just pretending to be normal butterflies. As Kendra was the fairy queen’s handmaiden, they considered it a great honor and took guarding her very seriously.

Though they were careful to seem normal around Kendra’s friends.

And wow her friends were something.

The fiery haired one was apparently a demon, according to Sholuna, one of her fairy guards. But Rachel was super nice and Kendra didn’t see a problem with her.

Another of her friends, Arya, was an elf. Like from Norse mythology. She was apparently a light elf, and was super nice and extremely good at calculus.

Her final friend, John, was a blix, a viviblix to be precise.

She’d found that out when he’d been talking about his home. He’d made a small slip that she was sure all three of them had caught, but none of them commented.

Somehow even at a normal human school, all her friends were magical beings.

She just accepted it. She hadn’t revealed her fairy kind status yet, but she suspected they had an idea of it. She was kinda famous amongst the magical community after all.

But now, it was family weekend, and while Kendra’s family couldn’t risk coming with Alyssa on the lookout, Bracken, Warren, and Vanessa were coming.

She was excited to introduce her friends, she’d told Bracken about them, and called with Warren and Vanessa about it so they knew too. But actually meeting with them was different.

None of them cared about the football game, Warren said he’d record it and they could just go out to eat and have fun.

Which was good, cause none of her friends liked big crowds. Which Kendra related too.

Nonetheless, it should be a fun weekend!

She huffed when one of the fairies, Veronica, tugged at her hair. They liked doing her hair, considered it part of their responsibilities. No matter how many times she explained they didn’t have to.

It was easiest to just let them, so she dropped her hands and let Veronica fix up her hair.

It was nice that it never took long to do her hair, and she always looked good with them around (the fairies often put flowers or sparkly hair pins in, they’d made her buy more than one pretty hair piece so they could do her hair).

She hurried out to meet with her family coming, her fairy guards drifting along with her, Milana sitting on her shoulder.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Another month and Alyssa finally got the backup she needed.

Trina and Brittany were here. They were seniors in high school still, but it was their break, and not the colleges. Which meant that the three of them together could find Kendra!

They’d only agreed to come help when Alyssa had managed to snag a picture of Kendra. Even if one of those stupid bees had gotten in the way a bit, it was still clearly Kendra.

She really hated those bees.

Now though, they were off to find Kendra! She would not escape them this time!

It took hours of scouring, but they finally found her at a café, with… some very cute guy?

+++++++++++++++++

Kendra was enjoying her date with Bracken. Both of them were free for the weekend and had decided to spend time together.

It was so fun! They’d gotten a really good lunch, gone to a movie, and now were sitting and snacking at a café, after they were going to go to the gardens!

It was the perfect date, and her guards were giving them privacy, since Bracken was more than capable of defending Kendra.

They had just received their drinks (hot chocolate for them both) when a hand landed on her shoulder.

Kendra jolted, twisting to see, oh no, Alyssa. And Trina, and Brittany.

Uh oh.

“Kendra!”

“Oh my god it is you!”

Trina lunged to hug her and she stiffened.

“Um, who are you?” Thank heavens for Bracken.

“Uh, I’m Trina? I’m Kendra’s friend. Anyways, Kendra! I can’t believe you’re alive! I thought you were dead!”

“We all did! We went to your funeral!”

Kendra shifted, pulling back, “Uh..”

“Sorry, but I think you have the wrong Kendra.”

Bracken was officially her favorite person.

“Wrong Kendra?” Brittany didn’t look happy.

Trina was the one to glare at him though. “Excuse you, I think I’d recognize my friend.”

“No, I’m sorry, this is a different Kendra. Not that Kendra that you’re talking about.”

“Yes it is! Kendra! She has a brother named Seth who’s 15, has parents Scott and Marla. Her name is literally Kendra Sorenson! It’s all exactly the same!”

“Well… they’re different.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Prove it.”

“Prove that the girl that you knew is dead and buried in a cemetery considering that you were apparently there for? And that this Kendra is not that Kendra come back to life? That they just happen to be similar?”

“… when you put it like that…” Brittany muttered.

“No! Kendra tell him! You know us!” Alyssa stared at her intently.

“I- I’m sorry… I don’t know you.”

Alyssa stared, “Kendra…”

Bracken coughed, “right, like I said, different Kendra.”

“But then why were you avoiding me!”

“Maybe cause you were stalking her?” Mumbled Bracken.

“And who even are you?!” Alyssa snapped, spinning to face Bracken.

“I am Kendra’s boyfriend, Bracken.” He wrapped his arm around Kendra.

She leaned into him.

“Did you kidnap her!?” Alyssa was ready to fight, Trina right there with her.

They were causing a scene.

“What!? Of course not!?”

“Kendra its okay, you can come with us, you don’t have to stay with this guy, did he fake your death?”

Kendra wanted to scream, they were so right and so wrong.

“He didn’t kidnap me, and I don’t know you!” Kendra hated lying to them. But it was necessary.

“URRGH” Alyssa looked angry and upset. Kendra felt really bad for this.

“But… you’re-“

“Look, I’m sorry that she’s not the Kendra you knew and loved, but you have to respect that. They might be similar but they’re not the same.”

“THEY’RE LITERALLY IDENTICAL IN EVERY WAY!!” Alyssa was very very upset.

“Well, the world works in strange ways.” He grabbed Kendra’s hand, “Time for us to go, nice meeting you.”

He quickly pulled her away, both grabbing their hot chocolates as they left.

“They really are determined huh?”

“Yeah.”

+++++++++++++++

“Okay girls, operation: save Kendra from the kidnapping pretty boy, is a go.”

#kendra sorenson #kendra #brackendra #fablehaven #warren #bracken #vanessa #dragonwatch #not that kendra #poor alyssa #kendra's friends #kendra in college

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spookyboywhump · 4 years

Text

Tag List: @constellationwhump, @what-a-whumpy-world, @faewhump, @inky-whump, @slaintetowhump, @sodapigeon, @justwhumpitwhumpitgood, @insanitywishes @ihaventwritteninsolong @galaxywhump

Let me know if I missed you or if you’d like to be tagged!

An update? To the main story? It’s more likely than you’d think. It’s for the main Wren story but solely from points of views that aren’t Wren oops, I’m still on a Zander writing kick and last I left him, he was supposed to get a punishment

TW: needles, noncon drugging

***

Zander felt like wren may have been more anxious about his punishment than he was. He was used to this by now, there wasn’t much Cain could do that he hadn’t done before, he didn’t see a need to be worried. He tried to assure him he would be fine, but Wren didn’t seem to be convinced. Even when Cain came back for them that evening, saying he’d picked something up for him, he wasn’t particularly worried.

Even when he jabbed a syringe into his neck he wasn’t worried, wincing at the sharp pain. He knew it could be any number of things, Cain used to test different drugs on him to see their effects, but as the night went on and he still wasn’t suffering any strange effects or feeling any pain, he thought it might’ve been defective. At least, until the sun was rising the next morning and he still hadn’t gotten any sleep, when he finally realized exactly what Cain had given him.

He knew he wouldn’t be sleeping again for a long time.

***

The effects of the drug were hitting him hard by now.

It had been three days, three doses of the strange drug, he hadn’t slept at all in three days. The closest he got was brief moments of unconsciousness when the last dose started to wear off, usually he would be quickly startled awake though. He couldn’t sleep, but his body was tired, his head was pounding and his hands were shaking. His eyes burned and his eyelids were heavy, but until Cain said so he wouldn’t be getting any sleep at all. It was made worse by the fact that Cain insisted on dragging him around anyway, mocking him for stumbling and shaking and slurring his words, as if his current state wasn’t all his fault.

Right now he felt lucky just to be sitting down, even if it was to watch Wren possibly get beaten up. He had some faith in him, he’d done well last time, and if he could think straight this time then he wouldn’t have to rely on luck to win. If he could win, he would get a real reward this time, he wouldn’t have to be punished too. Zander really hoped he would win.

The lights focused on the ring were too bright, the voices around him were way too loud, he could barely keep his eyes open and certainly couldn’t keep his thoughts coherent. Vanessa’s hands were on him but he didn’t have the strength to pull away, he couldn’t make much sense of what she was saying, what any of them were saying, trying to use all his energy to focus on the ring, to focus on Wren and the woman he’d been matched up with. He felt like he remembered her, felt like she might’ve been one of the past replacements, but he couldn’t be sure, right now all he knew was that Wren needed to win, and he was absolutely exhausted.

He tried to follow their movements but it was almost too much for him, it made his head hurt worse on top of everything else. He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, but somehow that just made the noise worse, the sounds of shouting and cheering drilling into his skull.

“Are you sure he’s okay?” He heard Vanessa ask, loudly to be heard over the audience, followed up by Cain’s usual dismissive tone.

“He’s fine, you know he can handle a lot.” As he said this he suddenly grabbed his leg, startling him out of his brief second of unconsciousness. He looked back to the ring, someone was on the ground, he hoped it wasn’t Wren. He realized that mess of bright red hair was on top though, fuck it must’ve been viscous if he was on top of her, he hoped he won, hoped he was spared from a violent punishment, hoped for the best as his eyes slipped shut again…

He jumped in his seat at the uproar of shouting and cheering, someone had won, he hoped it was Wren. Cain seemed happy, he really only ever seemed happy when he had a winning dog, it must’ve been Wren. He was relieved, Wren would get lucky, he’d get a reward, Zander couldn’t even remember his last reward. He was so happy for him, completely unaware of the tired and delirious smile on his face.

“Awww, look at him!” Vanessa cooed at his side. “He’s so happy for the little pup!”

“Yeah, they’re just the closest of friends.” Cain laughed. “It’s fucking adorable, really.”

Zander didn’t really understand what they were saying, he figured it didn’t matter all that much, all that mattered was Wren, and he’d won so everything was okay. Everything would be okay if only he could get some sleep.

He drifted in and out of consciousness for the rest of the fights, it didn’t matter to him. Usually Cain would shake him awake so he never really passed out, but by the time they finally left that place he was relieved to get out of there, even if he couldn’t sleep he’d be away from the noise and that was so much better than nothing. Wren seemed somewhat worried when Cain got him back, though Zander felt like he should be the one worrying, even in his exhausted and near delirious state he could tell it had been rough, the poor kid had a busted lip and deep scratches on his arms. He was holding one hand over his ribs, taking slow, shallow breaths. He hoped he was okay, but he wasn’t dead and he wasn’t going to be punished, so he figured he was as okay as he could be after a fight.

The trip home was a blur to him, every time he started to drift off again Cain had Wren wake him up, and though he seemed guilty he did it anyway. Zander didn’t mind, he was only following orders after all. He was almost grateful when they arrived home and Cain ordered him to kneel in the living room, it was so much easier to focus on sitting upright than doing anything else. He wished he had something to lean back against but this would be fine for now, until he could finally collapse for another sleepless night. He figured Cain just wanted to keep him around to rub it in how /good/ Wren was, having him sit at his feet, petting his hair like the good dog he forced him to be. Zander never liked it when he did that to him, even if it did mean Cain was in a good mood, he never learned to welcome the touch.

“Alright, Wren.” He smiled down at him. Even in his current state Zander could see how Wren shrank back, eyes trained on the floor. “Since you did so well, you can have anything you ask for, with the obvious exceptions.”

“Anything…?” Wren murmured more to himself, anxiously biting on his lower lip.

“Yeah, within reason though. Don’t go getting any stupid ideas.” He laughed. “You should probably decide carefully, you won’t get another one unless you win your next fight.” He warned, and Wren nodded slowly. He seemed to think about it for a moment before sitting up straighter, looking Cain in the eye.

“Let him sleep.”

“What?” He asked, eyebrows raised, looking surprised.

“Let Zander get some sleep… please, sir…” He glanced away. Zander wasn’t quite sure he heard him right, blinking tiredly. He really, really hoped he hadn’t wasted his first real reward on him, he’d feel awful if he did that for him.

“Are you sure that’s what you want? You really want to waste your reward on the mutt?” He asked, and Wren nodded.

“I’m sure.” He said, and Cain laughed, getting to his feet and coming over to Zander. He crouched down, grabbing his face and forcing him to focus on him.

“Hear that? Wren went out of his way to help you, isn’t that sweet?” He said, and Zander nodded weakly in response. It wasn’t sweet, it was stupid, it was a waste, he didn’t deserve it, but he knew better than to say anything. “Good timing I suppose, it’s probably all out of your system by now.” He stood up, having Zander get up as well and grabbing him by the arm rather than the leash, keeping him from falling over. He ordered Wren to follow them, taking him back to their shared room. Even though he thought it was stupid to waste it on him, he couldn’t help but feel relieved, right now the thought of collapsing into bed and getting some real sleep sounded amazing. Three days without sleep was an awfully long time, he was surprised he even lasted this long.

Before he finally fell asleep that night, he tiredly reminded himself to find some way to repay Wren for this. He deserved it after all.

***

They had watched them get out of the car, hidden inside one of the many abandoned and decrepit buildings. Three people, all that mattered though was their Elias. They were relieved to see him, bright red hair messier than usual. Cara was using her phone to get pictures of him, doing her best to stay hidden while she did it. The men seemed distracted at least, and while it wouldn’t be the end of the world for Elias to notice them, they didn’t want to deal with the other two.

One of them seemed… almost harmless? He was clearly in the same situation Elias was, also on a leash. He was tall and dark haired and he probably would’ve been awfully intimidating if there wasn’t something clearly wrong with him right now. Lila made sure that Cara got pictures of him too, just in case there was anything they could do for him. The other man, Cain Whitaker, would surely prove a problem if they tried to do anything, so they needed to be careful. They watched in a tense silence until they disappeared, down an old subway entrance, Cara speaking up first.

“I went down there, there’s nothing!” She said, looking up at Lila with big eyes. “There’s an old elevator left down there, but I couldn’t get it to work!”

“Then they must have something we don’t.” Lila sighed, sitting down for a moment. The past few times he’d been here he spent at least an hour here, they knew they had some time to wait. “How did the pictures turn out?” She asked, and Cara dropped down next to her, pulling them up on her phone. The camera was good, even zoomed in they had a pretty clear view of him. For the most part, Elias looked okay, he wasn’t dead, obviously, but there was a large bruise in the center of his face, his eyes were big and scared and he seemed anxious. Whatever he was being brought to, it wasn’t good, and if he came back worse than before they would need to be there.

“I don’t like seeing him like this…” Cara said softly. “Oh a leash I mean, it’s… wrong…” She frowned.

“And it looks like he’s not the only one. Any good pictures of the other one?” She asked. She watched her scroll through several images, finally settling on a clear one of his face. He looked exhausted, his eyes were wide, dark circles beneath them, a scar on one side of his face. If they could get Elias out then they would get him out as well, if he’d been there longer than Elias then he’d probably be a big help to them.

“It’s killing me that we can’t do anything. I mean, look at them, they need help, and we aren’t supposed to do anything until he’s what, almost dying?”

“Until we get any further orders, all we can do is wait.” She sighed. “Trust me, I think it’s stupid too, but… Elias will be okay. He’s tough, he can handle himself.” She tried to give her a reassuring smile but Cara didn’t seem entirely convinced, almost pouting as she leaned against her. She knew that Cara was probably more worried than any of them, she spent the most time with him. She had been so against letting him go, but there really wasn’t much they could do except hope he would be okay, and be as vigilant as possible for when they could finally rescue him.

They had to wait hours to see them again. They were thankful they returned to the same area, but Elias somehow looked even worse than before. He was almost limping, walking with one hand held close to his side. His pale arms were bloody, and they would later see in the photos he had a busted lip, his face contorted with pain. Cara had gone dead silent, which was unusual for her, Lila looking at her worriedly when the three had finally left. She didn’t say a word but she could tell, she was angry, angry at all this, angry at Whitaker, angry that her friend was suffering so much and they couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Lila was angry too, angry that the situation was getting to a point where she almost hoped Elias would get hurt, hoped he would get seriously injured so they could finally get him back. This had gone on long enough, they shouldn’t have to wait for it to get out of hand but unfortunately they didn’t get a say in that matter. All they could do was try to convince their boss to change her mind, and hope they could get him back, ideally sooner rather than later.

#whump #my writing #my oc's #Zander #Wren #Cain #Lila #Cara #tw needles #tw noncon drugging #sleep deprivation #wren's friends are pissed

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beatricethecat2 · 4 years

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if/then (2.0) - 25

Sorry this has taken ages to finish, but I needed extra time to shape it into a form that made sense. Also, the world itself continues to astound in how absurd it’s being, so everything is taking it's time to make sense again (or not). Back to this chapter, there's a little review built in so I won’t bother with it here. Also, I’m excited to confidently say there is one more chapter of this (!) and then it’s done! One more big plot point to cover, and then they can finally be happy together. Thanks for still reading! And as always, typos are all mine, I’ll fix them later (edited 12/19). For previous chapters, look in my archive or on AO3 (look up beatricethecat) since Tumblr hates links these days. Also, more notes at the end.

/////////////////////

"I'm hungry," Christina says.

"Me, too," Myka agrees.

"I saw sandwiches in the lobby."

"We'll get some after we meet whoever's here."

Myka knocks on a door, one she assumes an undercover Interpol officer is waiting behind, at the hotel where Morgana dropped them off. Myka takes hold of Christina's hand as the peephole lifts and the handle clicks.

"Get in here!" a voice bellows as the door swings open.

"Aunt Claudia!" Christina yanks her hand free and runs in, nearly toppling Claudia over as she tackles her.

Claudia swings Christina around, spinning them further into the room.

Myka can hardly believe her eyes. A flutter of hope rises in her chest for the first time in ages.

Claudia lifts Christina's arms above her head and wiggles them. "You're all stretched out! What happened?"

"I grew a bunch!" Christina yelps, then giggles, the sound harkening back to their less fraught days in New York.

"Man, you got heavy, too," Claudia says, lifting Christina off the floor as she scoops her into another hug.

Myka drags their bags in and closes the door, watching from the entryway as Christina steps back and twirls for Claudia.

"What'd H.G. feed this kid?"

"Maybe it's the mountain air," Myka says.

"Huh. You were right?"

"Uh-huh. Nobody filled you in?"

"Negative. All Our Lady of Brevity said was to hightail it here."

"We’ve got so much to tell you." Myka says, stepping closer to Claudia, offering herself up for a hug that Claudia readily accepts. "I'm really, really glad you're here."

"Damnit, H.G.!" Claudia snarls quietly, so as not to wake a post-lunch, napping Christina. "All those years, right under my nose…" Her eyes go distant while processing Myka's revelations as if lost in transgressions of the past. "But getting deported on purpose? Dude, I just can't." She shakes her head and frowns.

"Be mad later, because we need to fix this, fast. She needs her mother back." Myka glances at Christina.

"Can't Babezilla wave a magic wand and tell the cops it's above their pay grade?"

"I already asked. She can't trust them. And if she outs herself, her whole operation might crumble."

"Who cares? We just want H.G. back."

"It could make things worse for us, because somehow that's possible," Myka says. "We want Helena cleared, so we need Morgana as an ally. Remember how well it went when we were on our own?"

Claudia's shoulders sag. "So, we're screwed either way."

"Not if we can prove Helena and I were caught in the crossfire of something larger."

"Ok!" Claudia claps hands together and rubs them back and forth. "How do we that?"

"I don't know."

"Let's lay out the facts," Claudia says, leaning back in her chair. "H.G. gets deported. Then Mrs. F. drops the bomb that you're being sacrificed to keep MacPherson in jail. H.G.'s forced to feed you info, but her hands are tied otherwise. So she calls the Ice Queen and is like, 'Bro, help me, Mrs. Frederic's being sketchy as hell.' They hatch a plan to smack Mrs. F on the knuckles and cross their fingers it will work."

"That's…weirdly accurate."

"If H.G. hadn't butted in, what would have happened?"

"According to Morgana, I'd be charged with collusion, and Theodora would be implicated as the instigator. She believes Mrs. Frederic's framing Theodora."

"Because Mrs. F. says she did it as a favor for Vanessa, who was doing a favor for Theodora, who made a back-door deal with MacPherson?"

"In theory, yes. That's what Mrs. Frederic would lead the police to believe."

"But I thought Mrs. F and Theodora were best buds? Why would she double-cross her?"

"To gain immunity and kill McPherson's appeal. She'll out him as the mastermind behind the sale. And who knows what other dirt she has on him."

"So H.G. fudged that up all kinds of ways," Claudia says, lowering her voice as Christina shifts under the covers. Her brows push together, wheels turning furiously in her head. "Where's Morgana getting all this?"

"Lots of little things. Plus, she's had a year to piece it together. And that woman in Mrs. Frederic's office, Sally, is still feeding her information."

"Info Mrs. Frederic's feeding her?"

"Maybe? Good point."

"You need to talk to her."

"Sally?"

"No. Mrs. Frederic."

"How?"

"We'll figure it out." Claudia taps her laptop awake and starts typing.

"Hang on. Let me call before you do something illegal. Maybe I can get an appointment."

"Ha! Good luck," Claudia says, eyes never leaving her screen, hacking away as Myka dials.

At 8:30 AM sharp, Myka knocks on the gallery's door, Claudia's "You can do this!" pep talk on repeat in her head. Her initial letdown of, "Mrs. Frederic's booked until the end of the month," was, quite unbelievably, overturned an hour later by a callback from her assistant. But by then, they were plotting to crash tomorrow's lunch, as Claudia had already stolen Mrs. Frederic's schedule.

A security guard lets her in, and she follows him to the elevator. Her hands twist together as they wait, dread seeping in over confronting such a formidable woman. But this is the only way to get answers, and her resolve is true. Coaxing information out of people, especially such worldly ones, is not her strong point.

The guard knocks on Mrs. Frederic's door twice, then opens it. He pulls it closed after Myka enters.

"Good morning," Mrs. Frederic says, remaining seated behind her desk. As always, she's impeccably dressed, her grey tweed jacket accented by a string of white pearls, hair braided in thin strands lifted into an elegant bun. It's like she wakes up fully prepped, ready to bulldoze anything and everything in her path.

"G-Good morning," Myka says back, as evenly as possible, her stomach quivering as she braces for the conversation she has to have.

"Please sit." Mrs. Frederic motions to a chair in front of her.

Myka bumps into the arm as she circles around, then settles in, flashing what she hopes is a not-too-nervous smile.

"I'll be frank," Mrs. Frederic starts. "I know why you're here. I can't help you."

"Then why ask me to come?"

"You needed to hear it in person."

"You got me into this! We had meetings and emails and phone calls. You sent me to the sale. You sent me to Helena's in Wales! There's a paper trail."

"Was my name listed anywhere?"

"I..." Myka thinks back, sifting through scores of information. "... don't know. But I'll prove it, somehow." Myka's lips pinch into a thin line, visualizing her resolve. She's gotten this far, and she's not leaving until she gets answers.

"Myka," Mrs. Frederic says, her tone softening ever so slightly. "You can't fix this. The sooner you accept that, the better. You must let it play out."

"So Helena and I both go to jail? What about her kid?"

"Helena was explicitly told not to get involved. That's out of my hands. This may have been over by now if not for her—"

"May have. May have. That's not good enough." Myka's chest heaves as her nostrils flare; this is a brush off of epic proportions. "Why ruin us both just to frame Theodora?"

"Theodora?" Mrs. Frederic's brows shoot up, above the rims of her cat-eye glasses.

"I know you're framing her, saying she's the one I was working for, not you. That the painting was hers."

"Ha!" Mrs. Frederic barks, lips curling up in amusement. "That's what you truly believe?"

"Tell me why I shouldn't," Myka growls, leaning back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, scowling.

Mrs. Frederic holds Myka's gaze, then sighs deeply, shaking her head as if Myka said something either right on the nose or completely fantastical.

"Then this is all on you," Myka asserts.

"Helena should have trusted me."

"Why should she? From what I've heard, you didn't protect her in New York."

"She knew the risks."

"Maybe. But I didn't. How is it ok to manipulate someone like that?"

"My hands were tied."

"Your hands were tied? By whom?"

Myka leans forward, her hands gripping the chair arms ever more tightly as Mrs. Frederic's stoic mask loosens.

"Please," Myka pleads, teetering on the edge of her seat. If she pushes, maybe Mrs. Frederic will open up.

Mrs. Frederic slides her chair back, then stands and turns, walking slowly toward a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows. She clasps her hands behind her back and gazes out at London's skyline, fixating on a point beyond the horizon. As seconds pass into minutes, Myka doesn't dare move or speak as Mrs. Frederic seems to be wrestling with an answer.

"I like you, Myka," Mrs. Frederic says. "Your earnestness is sorely lacking in this field. And contrary to what you may believe, I'm fond of Helena, too."

"Then help us."

Mrs. Frederic breathes in deeply and releases the breath slowly, eyes still focused on the skyline. "You must speak with Theodora," she says quietly, then looks over her shoulder, meeting Myka's eager gaze. "As soon as possible. And in person."

"Thank you." Myka's grip on the chair eases.

"And, Myka, be careful. You've no idea the power she holds. That's all I can say."

The hint of fear in Mrs. Frederic's voice suggests what Myka's up against, but at least she has somewhere to start. It's not particularly uplifting, nor what she expected, but it's more than she had when she walked in today. So maybe that's a win?

"This is one hot potato," Claudia says.

"That's one way to put it," Myka agrees, tapping on her laptop, looking up flights. "I have to go to Milan."

"Hang on. What if Mrs. Frederic's throwing you under the bus?"

"I’m already under the bus. And I'm not sure why, but I believe her."

"Let me talk to H.G. first. You call Morgana."

"I did, but she didn't pick up. She's probably at the police station being interviewed. I'll book a flight anyway."

Everyone startles as a phone rings, but it's neither Myka's nor Claudia's. Christina scrambles toward her luggage.

"It says 'Sondra,'" she says, holding it up for all to see.

"Answer it," Myka says.

"Hello?" Christina says, then listens. "Ok." She holds the phone out to Myka.

"Sondra?"

"Myka! Oh, it's bloody awful."

"What is?"

"Harry's place! It's a right mess, it is. I came to fetch the rabbit nosh and…and it's—" Sondra gasps. "Bastards!"

There's a rustling sound through the phone.

"What's wrong?"

"Christina's Mari Lwyd. It's ripped to shreds! Who would do that?"

"What's a…is anything missing?"

"I can't say. Let me take a gander."

To avoid a lengthy "Sondra" explanation, Myka scribbles "What's a Mary Lloyd?" on hotel stationery and slides it towards Christina.

Christina grabs Myka's pen and spells the word correctly, then makes a quick drawing on the pad. Myka raises a brow at the sketch. It looks like a Halloween costume.

"It's a Christmas thing," Christina says. "A horse skull on a stick with a sheet over it. It was really fun! We made it out of paper and went to people's houses, singing—"

"There's papers strewn about, but I can't say they knicked anything in particular," Sondra interrupts.

"They were looking through papers," Myka says, half to herself. Mrs. Frederic certainly moved quickly if she was looking for those instructions from Cardiff. Helena had them last, but what did she do with them? And what about the letters Christina told her Helena wrote? She hopes the intruders didn't stumble upon them during their search.

"Should I check the garage?" Sondra asks.

"Maybe later? In case those creeps are there now."

"Good call," Sondra says.

What's happening? Claudia scribbles on the pad.

Someone broke in to H.G.'s, Myka scribbles back.

"Do the doors still lock?" Myka asks.

"I reckon," Sondra replies.

"Then get out of there in case they come back."

"Shouldn't I call the police?"

Myka writes, Should she call the police?

Claudia shrugs. We'll ask H.G.

"We'll ask Hel—Harry first."

"You seen her?"

"Not yet. But she's ok."

"Charlotte alright?"

"She's fine. You want to talk to her?"

"Lovely, yeah. Put her on."

"Sondra wants to talk to you," Myka says to Christina.

Christina nods and takes the phone.

"Let's make a list for you to ask Helena," Myka says to Claudia, listening in as Christina answers Sondra with mostly yeses and noes. "Let's hope there's time to get through everything during visiting hours."

"Let's hope H.G. has a plan," Claudia quips.

The minute Myka switches off airplane mode, a text from Claudia pops up.

-You’re gonna kick ass. Good luck!

"Thanks!" Myka texts back, wishing she could agree. They'd stayed up late last night, devising a plan with Morgana, talking on Myka's burner phone. But during her two-hour flight, instead of honing their list of questions, Helena's voice filled her mind.

Helena revealed, during visiting hours, the document from Cardiff was stowed in her suitcase. As they dug through, they found several secret compartments, one with cash, another with new aliases plus travel documents for Helena and Christina. But the document-in-question remained elusive until Claudia tugged on an out of place stitch in the lower lining. Its release revealed a stash of papers stuffed under the plastic shell. The upper lining revealed even more than Myka could have imagined.

Mixed in with the deeds to Helena's house and Harry's garage were the letters Christina had spoken about, the ones Helena had written but could never send. Myka's heart froze at the sight, then pounded wildly as she ripped them open.

She'd barely made a dent in the dense texts when Claudia whisked them away, saying it wasn't safe to keep them on hand since Helena's break-in. She skimmed as many as possible, pushing Claudia away twice as she tried to gather them together. Helena's words vacillated between the mundane in Llangynidr and her extraordinary past. There, laid out in exquisite detail, were her days in London, her time at Stanford, bringing up Christina, and her entanglement with Morgana, Mrs. Frederic, and MacPherson. She felt drunk on information, as if the stories were shots she was downing in rapid succession.

On the plane, it occurred to her the letters read like confessions; Helena laying out her life as if she'd never be allowed to speak of it again. She teared up, as Helena and Christina disappearing forever was not an option. She could never move on if she didn't know they were safe. But once the plane landed, she shook off the feeling and made a concerted effort to focus on the present.

She checks in early at her hotel and changes out of her wrinkled clothes, wanting to look and feel at the top of her game. A few steps from Theodora's door, she stops to neaten her skirt, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. She'd memorized the questions they came up with, but there is no harm in running through them again.

She tugs at her collar, nerves overheating her already, though when she checked, the weather's on the chilly side of spring. Straightening her spine and squaring her shoulders, she enters the gallery lobby. This may be her only chance to save herself and Helena, so she better not blow it.

The room looks exactly as it did the last time she was there; a few new paintings, but overall, it's as if time hasn't passed. She walks up to the front desk, which is currently unoccupied, and waits for someone to appear.

"Hello?" she says, a little louder than usual.

"Scusa!" a woman says, scuttling out from the back. Probably in her twenties, with long brown hair, wearing a white blouse and grey skirt, she's the usual kind of generic, attractive front desk person. She looks Myka over then switches to English.

"How can I help you?"

"I need to speak with Theodora," Myka says.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but we've worked together. She knows me."

"Un momento." The woman holds up a finger and dials a number on her desk phone. "Your name?" she asks as it rings.

"Myka Bering."

The woman speaks in Italian to whoever is on the phone, but Myka gets the gist of the conversation.

"She will see you at the usual place."

"I know it, thanks."

Myka makes a hasty exit and walks a few blocks to the restaurant. She hadn't planned on meeting Theodora in public, so she'll need to adjust. If she can't speak freely, that throws a wrench in her plan.

She tells the hostess who she's looking for and is directed to Theodora's table, which is, thankfully, in a secluded back corner. To the untrained eye, Theodora looks like an unassuming European tourist in her sixties, having left her vacation home to enjoy authentic Milanese dining.

"Myka Bering!" Theodora says, smiling as she rises. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She greets Myka with a customary kiss on both cheeks.

Myka lips pinch, then lift into an awkward smile. "I, um, was in town, and I thought I'd stop by," she chirps, hoping that sounded more plausible than it felt. She does have a cover story, but it's weak, so she braces for reciting further lies.

"Excellent!" Theodora says, waving a server over as she sits. "How's your new job been treating you?"

"Very well, actually," Myka answers. Because it was before she went AWOL.

The server hands Myka a menu.

“Portaci una bottiglia di questo,” Theodora orders, lifting her wine glass towards the server.

"Oh, no, please, just a latte for me," Myka appeals, understanding Theodora's request was for an entire bottle of wine.

Theodora raises a brow but doesn't argue. "As you wish. Solo un caffè latte, allora," she says to the server.

He nods and walks away.

"Lunch is on me. Anything you choose. But I will say, they've switched to michetta for their sandwiches, and it's absolutely delectable."

"Um, thanks. I'll look this over," Myka says, reading the menu, but the words blend together on the page.

"We were sad to lose you from our team," Theodora says. "But that mess with Irene and Helena…" She shakes her head. "I can see why you'd want a fresh start."

"Can we talk about that?" Myka blurts, setting down her menu.

Theodora tilts her head as if taken off guard. "All right."

"Thank you," Myka says as the server delivers her latte.

He hovers, waiting for further instruction.

"I'll, um, order later," Myka says.

He nods again and takes his leave.

"I need your help," Myka says, once the server's out of earshot. She might as well come out with it as there's no time to be sent in circles.

"What can I do for you," Theodora answers, reclining in her seat and sipping her wine.

"I-I know what your plan was, for me, back then. And I know what's happening now."

"Oh?" Theodora cocks a brow. "Perhaps you might fill me in, then, as I'm not familiar with what you're referencing."

Myka steels herself. Time to pull out all the stops.

"You needed me to go down for the stolen painting so you'd be implicated as well. But Helena messed that up. Once you found her, you put me back in play."

This theory was a gamble, but after factoring in Mrs. Frederic's information, she, Claudia, and Morgana all agreed it was the right angle to take.

"Irene sent you to that sale, not me. I wasn't aware you were 'back in play,' whatever that means."

A tinge of annoyance colors Theodora's tone, but her calm facade stays in place. Morgana said it wouldn't be easy to rattle her. Time to lay out the facts and see if she'll bite.

"Someone sent me to Helena's house where she and her daughter were in witness protection. Now her cover's blown, and she's in police custody. Her daughter's beside herself with grief."

This isn't strictly true; Myka's pushing Theodora's sense-of-family buttons. Christina clung to Helena before leaving the precinct yesterday, but according to Claudia, she's holding up well otherwise.

"Irene told her to keep her distance. I told you to as well."

"Wait." Myka narrows her eyes. "How did you know Mrs. Frederic told Helena to stay out of it?"

"She asks me for advice from time to time," Theodora says, siping her wine then looking away.

"Then you know the police will bring me back in for questioning. And if I'm convicted, Christina will be left all on her own."

"Poor girl," Theodora says, her concern ringing hollow. "I still don't see what this has to do with me. This is Irene, clearing her name."

"No. If this is about bringing MacPherson down, it'd be better for Mrs. Frederic if Helena stayed hidden. Opening up that investigation diminishes the worth of her testimony, if she's even able to testify at all."

"Then, James is surely responsible."

"Why would he rock the boat when, as I've heard, his appeal's already swung in his favor?"

"He's a petty man."

"Petty, but not stupid. He's an opportunist. He grabbed Helena, got the real painting, then tossed her aside. Someone else found her and turned her in."

"And you think that person's me," Theodora snips.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"Seems like an awful lot of fuss, for what?"

"You're not as happy here as you lead people to believe, with your modest gallery and quiet life. I'm told you were quite the powerhouse, once. That Mrs. Frederic and MacPherson were under your thumb."

Last night, Morgana detailed Theodora's complicated relationship with Mrs. Frederic and MacPherson. She promised this line would strike a nerve if Myka employed it at the right time.

"And yet, you hadn't heard of me until Mrs. Frederic sent you my way."

"I'm sorry. I hadn't."

"There's a reason for that." Theodora motions to the waiter for more wine then points with her chin at Myka's coffee. "Drink up, child, before it gets cold."

Myka takes a sip. It's already tepid.

The server returns and pours Theodora a generous portion. "Grazie, Paolo," she says.

He nods and walks away.

Theodora swirls the liquid and takes a sip, then looks off to the side, into the distance.

Myka's patience wears thin as the pause stretches out, but she waits for Theodora to continue. This is the tipping point; if she pushes, Theodora might shut her out entirely. She drinks her drink and shifts in her chair, willing herself to hold her tongue.

"I was well established by the time those two rose up in the ranks," Theodora starts. "They pursed me, asking to work together, as I'd lend them an air of legitimacy. I found them both promising, so I took them under my wing, nurtured them. Then, when my Henry took a turn for the worst, they grabbed all I had and ran."

Myka opens her mouth to say, "I'm sorry," but Theodora continues first.

"Oh, they'll say they were helping me, following up on leads, taking clients off my hands. But when I was strong enough to step back in, they cut me off, fenced me in here. By then, they were locked in their little game of good versus evil. There was no room for anyone else."

"So, you want back in."

“I want control. Their childish games must stop. They've become graceless. Barbaric. It's shameful." Theodora's words edge towards a sneer.

"So this is personal," Myka mumbles, mind busy cataloging this revelation, conjuring up information to negotiate now the motive's shifted to revenge.

"Finding the Amber Room was Henry's obsession. His great-great-grandfather was one of the craftsmen. Those two stole his notes and passed them off as their own. He was so close right before he..." Theodora breathes a shaky breath as if anger and grief strike her all at once. "I had no idea they found it until that damn sale."

"But that was MacPherson—"

"No!" Theodora slams her palm on the table. "They found it together. Then McPherson stole it from Irene."

Myka flinches at the gesture but sees an opportunity to draw Theodora out further. "Why didn't you go to the police instead of gambling on this elaborate plan?"

"The minute I opened my mouth, those two would cover it up. And without proof, who would believe me? I had to get my foot in the door first."

"So you used Mrs. Frederic as a front and me as your 'foot in the door.' And when I go down, so do you. But why do you want to be arrested?"

"I see this is not your strong suit," Theodora says, the pity in her eyes clear at Myka's naiveté. "I'll give you a minute to figure it out. You might learn something useful."

Myka thinks. Theodora's been left powerless. No one takes her seriously, including the police.

"What you say while in custody is confidential. You could tell the police anything, and Mrs. Frederic and MacPherson won't know until they're being investigated."

"Leverage," Theodora sneers. "Their little moles won't have time to warn them what's coming. They'll duke it out to prove who's more loyal to me, who's willing to do whatever it takes to bail me out. I'll ruin them otherwise."

Myka's stomach turns. This power grab is pathetic. "So, Helena and I suffer for your vendetta?"

"Helena did this to herself."

"Helena did this to save me."

"That's not my problem."

"You once said family mattered more than anything, but you'd do this to someone's mother?"

"This is on her. Irene told her to stay out of it—"

"Do you know how we met?"

Theodora opens her mouth to answer but Myka cuts her off.

"Of course you do. You know everything. You picked me because I had nothing to lose. Nothing more to lose. I was exactly who you were looking for."

Theodora looks on without a shred of sympathy. Myka's scowl deepens.

"Helena taking me in, us falling in love…you couldn't have predicted that. But you gain nothing by condemning her and her child to this limbo. So why go through with it?"

"If she'd only done what she was told—"

"Look." Myka sets her jaw and leans forward, glowering. "I'll do whatever you want if you get her off the hook. I know you can." She fixes Theodora with a stern eye.

Theodora's lips rise, slowly, at the ends, until the wrinkles around her eyes deepen into chasms. Her smile is cold, her gaze, calculating, as if Myka just made a deal with the devil. "Come by the gallery tomorrow afternoon. I make no promises, but I'll see what I can do."

"I'll be there," Myka says, holding onto Theodora's eyes as she casually sips her wine again. Is that it? Did she get what she came for? She can't think of anything else to say. She gulps her cold latte down and takes her leave, mind spinning in an anxious haze.

"Why'd you do that?" Claudia snaps, over the phone, later that evening.

"It just came out," Myka says, slumping back in an armchair at her hotel.

"H.G.'s going to be pissed!"

"I know. But she needs to be with Christina. Maybe Morgana can help?" Myka's words quiet as she sinks further down in her chair, the weight of what she's offered, going through with Theodora's original plan, hitting her full force. She already lost most of her life in the fire, and here she is, losing it again. She doesn't deserve this. Why has the universe turned against her?

“Dude, we’re gonna all help.”

"What if Theodora can't do it. What if we're both still screwed?"

"Stay positive!"

"What if that's not good enough?"

"We'll figure it out. And get you both out, if we have to. You know I'm here for the long haul. Christina won't be alone."

"Thank you. For everything. For always being there."

The sinking feeling in Myka's chest has hit the bottom of her gut. Tears should fall, but instead, a numbness swallows up her fear. This wasn't her fault, but she can't help feeling her karma's summoned up the worst. That the shock waves from the gas explosion caused a ripple effect, shoving her life, then Helena's, then Claudia's, then Morgana's off-kilter. And the only way to fix it is to start over again and follow the prescribed trajectory. If she's lucky, she accomplished this today, and the chain-link reaction will be severed.

The next day, Myka wanders from cafe to cafe, scenic vista to scenic vista, occupying her restless body with movement until afternoon arrives. When it does, she marches briskly into Theodora's gallery and up to the desk, where the same woman from yesterday sits.

"I'm here to see Theodora."

The woman's impassive gaze suggests they hadn't already met. "Signora Stanton is unavailable."

"But she told me to meet her here this afternoon!"

"She's on holiday. You can leave a message."

"I…I'll call her." Myka scrolls through her numbers and taps on Theodora's. She gets a message that the number's no longer in service.

"Give me her number," Myka growls.

"I can pass on a message—"

"Give me her number!" Myka slaps her palms on the desk and leans forward.

The woman scoots back in her chair, then stands. "I must ask you to leave."

"I won't leave until I speak to Theodora."

"She's not here."

"She has to be!" Myka steps around the desk towards Theodora's office. The woman blocks her, but Myka shuffles around and makes a beeline to the back of the building.

"You can't go in there!" the woman yelps, scuttling behind.

"Theodora! You said you'd have an answer!" Myka yells, stalking through the gallery storage area, directly into Theodora's office. When she steps inside, no one is present.

"I'm calling the polizia!" the woman says, turning on a heel and picking up a phone on a nearby table.

Myka circles behind Theodora's desk and plops down in her chair. As she's shuffling through papers, her phone rings.

"H.G.'s out!" Claudia chants from the other end. "Well, almost. And with restrictions, but she can go home for now. Home to Wales, Not new York, but...amazeballs, right? What'd you do?"

"I, oh...hang on, I have another call," Myka says as her line beeps. She doesn't recognize the number, but she taps accept anyway. This better be Theodora explaining what's going on.

"Myka Bering?" a woman's voice asks, a British one that's clearly not Theodora's.

"Yes."

"This is DI Stuart, London Police. I have some questions regarding the sale you were involved in a year ago. Do you have a moment? It's rather urgent."

"I'm…" Relieved Helena's out. Scared at what happens next. About to be arrested for trespassing... Myka stands and walks out of the room, raising a hand in surrender at the scowling assistant. Time to flip that switch and turn back into the naive woman she once was. "I'm happy to help, Detective. Just give me second to get off the other line."

-TBC-

NOTE: I just wanted to say, I know this twist could have been set up better in earlier chapters. But in my defense, I didn’t know it was going to go down this way back then. As I was writing this, I decided I didn’t want Mrs. Frederic to be the bad guy. At least not entirely. Because characters are more rich if they’re not painted in black and white. I also decided the whole scheme shouldn’t be (entirely) about bringing MacPherson’s downfall. It seemed too obvious and why not add some complexity to it if I could pull it off? That’s more exciting for all of us in the long run. Were I to go back in time, I’d add a little more personal interaction between Mrs. F and Myka and maybe a few more clues here and there about Theodora’s (non)-loyalties. Though, when I went back and read Myka’s interaction with Theodora, I did sort of set this up a tad without knowing it. I hope this rings true for you, as I’m sort of proud of parsing it out. Feel free to let me know! I can’t believe I’ve almost finished this! So crazy it’s been in my consciousness for half a decade.

#BERING AND WELLS #w13 #fan fiction #Myka Bering #Helena HG Wells #Claudia Donovan #now I have to write my syllabus #for a class I do not want to teach online #plus I'll get back to Emily Lake soon too!#but phew - I managed to finish this #small miracles...

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lumiolivier · 3 years

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The Good Old Days Chapter Eighteen: One Night in Paradise

A/N: Hi, friends! How would you feel about a little hurt/comfort/domestic fluff? Because that's what you're getting. Here. Have this.

ICYMI: Chapter 17: Party at Vanessa's

Holy shit, Old Man. This was beyond classy town. This was one of those hotels where I’m afraid I’ll get kicked out for not having freshly shined shoes. But if not because of the Old Man, then for Vanessa, I’m going to have to get used to tasting silver like this. Speaking of Vanessa, I think I might have gotten her out of her head for a second. Good. That’s what we’re here for. Anything I can do to scrub whatever her…delight…of a mother put in her head, I’ll gladly do it. Even if it means finally tasting a little bit of the upper echelons.

“Frankie…” her grip on my hand tightened, “How in the fuck did you swing something like this on such short notice?”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” I threw an arm around her, “I needed to take care of my girl and I’ll be damned if I don’t come through on that. A little power in this town goes a long way, baby. The Old Man taught me that. I got to learn that lesson the hard way, though.”

“How?” Vanessa wondered.

“Well…” I kissed her cheek, “I’m here with one of the biggest debutants in New York, aren’t I?”

“Oh, fuck right off with that bullshit,” she giggled, rolling her eyes, “You’re not with me because of your power, Frankie. We both know that.”

“Not necessarily,” I poked at her, “If the Old Man wouldn’t have sent me on that job that night, we wouldn’t have met. And we wouldn’t have this beautiful hotel to retreat to for the night. Shall we?”

“Yes, please.”

I went up to the front desk and waited for someone to notice I was here. A cute receptionist came up to me, “Can I help you, sir?”

“I have a reservation,” I told her, “It should be under Gregorio Alvarez.”

“Just a moment,” she checked the computer, “I’m sorry, sir. There is no reservation for Gregorio Alvarez here.”

“Are you sure?” This feels like the Old Man testing me. Even if it’s not, shit…I’m out a hotel room for the night. I suppose we could always make the trip back to Williamsburg. That wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“You know what?” Vanessa dug in her bag in search for her wallet, “I appreciate the effort, but I got it.”

“No,” I stopped her, “I got it…Could you check to see if there’s a reservation made under Francisco Mendoza?”

“Sure,” the receptionist checked her computer one more time, “I have one executive suite for Francisco Mendoza. Paid in full.”

“That’s me!” I started to relax. It might not have been the Old Man testing me, but I appreciate him making the reservation in my name. And executive. Damn, Old Man. You do love me.

“I just need a valid ID.”

“Sure, sure,” I pulled my wallet out and tossed my ID on the counter and let her look at it for a brief moment.

“Alright,” the receptionist pulled out a room key and handed it back with my ID, “Enjoy your stay.”

“We will,” I put my ID back and handed off the keys to Vanessa. I still couldn’t believe this was about to be a thing. I’ve never stayed in a nice ass hotel before. Not like this anyway. Even when we’d go back to Spain, we wouldn’t stay anywhere nearly as nice as this.

“Excuse me, Mr. Mendoza,” the receptionist stopped me. Shit…This was it. This was when I find out there’s another Francisco Mendoza in the world that runs a Fortune 500 and he’s in town for the night, “There’s a message for you that was supposed to be delivered upon your arrival.”

“Oh,” I took the envelope, “Ok. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled sweetly, “If you need anything, please let us know.”

“Will do.” I like her. She seems nice. Then again, she gets paid to be nice to people. I know what that’s all about. But with her, it seemed genuine. Good for you, honey.

“Well?” Vanessa leaned onto my shoulder as we got into the elevator, “Aren’t you going to open it?”

“I should do that, shouldn’t I?” I tore the seal on the envelope. It felt weirdly thick. If this was the Old Man floating me some cash, too, I might love him a little more. Huh…No cash. Alright. That’s fine.

Sorry to hear about your shit night, kid.

Hopefully, this will help a little.

Put it to good use.

What the hell…? I shook out the envelope and saw a bright yellow package in that envelope that said banana flavored on it. And it wasn’t candy. Jesus Christ, Old Man! I shoved the envelope and its contents into my jacket pocket. I love Vanessa dearly. Really, I do. But sometimes, I hate her curiosity, “What was it?”

“Nothing,” I squeaked. It was nothing. Just the Old Man being a bro. And by the looks of things, trying to help me get laid tonight. Not that it wasn’t a sweet gesture, but tonight kind of went to shit. I feel like if I mention sex to Vanessa, it’ll go one of two ways. She’ll either beat me with her purse or she’s going to get into it and it’ll be angry sex. We don’t need angry sex for the first time out.

“It didn’t look like nothing,” she smirked, “What was in the envelope, Frankie?”

“A note from the Old Man,” I pacified her, “He said he hopes this makes up for the bullshit that went down tonight.”

“Isn’t he sweet?” Something in her eyes said all she need to. She saw it, too. She knows it’s on me. It’s not like my brothers weren’t the same way.

When we got to our room, this looked like something straight out of a classy porno. Dim lights, a mixture of pink and red rose petals on the bed. And a bottle of champagne already on ice. Oh, the Old Man does love me. He does know it’s been a shit night. Although, he’s told me on more occasions than one that he had a soft spot in his heart for Vanessa, too. He knows what we’ve been through. He knew I wanted to deal with Vanessa’s family (excluding Veronica. Because I loved that little spitfire like she was my own.) like I wanted a fucking root canal. This was the break we both could’ve used. Especially after that mess.

I couldn’t help but wonder how much a night in this room would’ve costed me, but the thought of me being Vanessa’s rebellious phase kind of tickled me. Without another thought, she jumped onto the bed and made herself comfortable. Of all the times to be without a camera. That’s all this bed was missing. Vanessa stretched out in the middle of it amongst the rose petals. Look at it now. It’s perfect. And so is she. Going by the sparkle in her eyes, she’s waiting on me.

I tossed my jacket aside and crawled in bed next to her, pulling her into my chest, “So? Did I take care of you tonight, Vanessa?”

She nuzzled her face in my shoulder and shut her eyes, “Thank you, Frankie. I really hoped this night would’ve gone better, but…I didn’t think she would’ve dropped that kind of bomb on me. I shouldn’t be surprised, but…I just didn’t want to deal with her anymore.”

“I know, baby,” I kissed her forehead, “I know. And we don’t have to. Not for the rest of the night. For the rest of the night, it’s just you and me.”

“You weren’t there for the conversation, Frankie,” she shuddered, “It was fucking awful. It got to the point where I’m surprised she didn’t mention something about my biological clock ticking. And ticking even faster. You’re twenty-four, Vanessa. You have to further the bloodline, Vanessa. God forbid the family fizzles out because you didn’t pop out a baby. This shit’s fucking exhausting.”

“Yikes,” I held her tighter, “Can I ask you something without you getting angry and defensive?”

“Hell of a way to start a conversation,” Vanessa shot a quick glare at me, “Depends on what you’re going to ask me. If it does piss me off and get me defensive, can I bite you?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time…”

“What did you want to ask me, you freak?” she threw her head back in sheer exasperation. I’m adorable when I’m too much.

“The other guy…” I wondered, “The asshole your mom tried setting you up with…”

“What about him?” Vanessa reached over for the open champagne bottle.

“Was he better looking than me?”

“Seriously?” she giggled, shaking her head. Again. I’m adorable when I’m too much.

“I’m just curious,” I shrugged, “Was he better looking than me?”

“He came from a prominent family,” Vanessa handed the bottle off, “Nose high up in the air. And that’s all that mattered to her.”

“But,” I reiterated, “I don’t care what he comes from. He tried moving in on my girl. That makes him a piece of shit in my book already. The fact that it was because her mother told him to move in on my girl makes him even worse. But what I want to know is was he better looking than me?”

“No,” she laughed even harder, warming me inside like nothing else, “You’re awful.”

“Sue me.”

“But…” Vanessa snuck in a slow, sweet kiss, “You’re wonderful…You’re wonderfully awful.”

“I try,” I took another hit from the champagne bottle. Normally, I hated champagne. It didn’t matter what kind it was. All of it tasted like shit. But this? I could be ok with this one.

“I love you, Frankie,” she took the bottle back from me. Only to put it on the nightstand.

“And I you,” I held her tight, making sure nothing would ever happen to her. Because if it did, that’d be on me. Don’t you worry, baby. I’m going to make sure you stay safe. As long as you’re mine, “Why don’t you get some sleep, ok?”

“I will if you will,” Vanessa bargained, “Even though the Old Man was kind enough to toss you a condom for tonight.”

“Not the right time,” I brushed her off, “I mean, if you wanted to, it’s not like I’d say no, but not like this.”

“I really do love you, Frankie,” she pulled the blankets over us, “You know…All things being equal…If I had to choose right now between the guy my mom handpicked for me and you…”

“I know,” I hushed her, “For the sake of your family name, you’d go with whoever the hell Victoria wanted you to go with. And I’d have to understand that. But we’d both stay up late at night wondering what might have been.”

“Oh,” Vanessa let it go, “Thank God. I was going to take the romantic route and say I’d pick you, but I’m glad we don’t have to have that long, awkward conversation. Thanks for being so understanding.”

“And you say I’m the little shit,” I giggled a bit.

“You know damn well what I was about to say,” she kissed my cheek, “Good night, Frankie.”

“Good night.” And I’d pick you, too, baby. Any day of the week. I’d be stupid to ever even consider throwing you back. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Vanessa, and I’m going to make sure you know that. Even if we don’t ever get married and run off into the sunset, I’ll make sure you know it.

The next morning, I woke up to the sun shining in through the balcony and the phone ringing in my ear. But I also had this little angel in my arms, so I wasn’t going to complain. And she didn’t even budge. Damn, Vanessa. Heavy sleeper. That might be a good thing. But I grabbed the phone. Sleep well, kariña. Sleep well, “Yeah?”

“There’s a call for you at the front desk, Mr. Mendoza…”

“Alright.” Who the hell would be trying to call me? And who would know I’m here? It might have been the Old Man, so it’s not like I could say no, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

Click.

“Frankie…?” Dammit, Old Man. You woke the baby, “Where are you going?”

“I’ll be right back,” I promised, “I need to go take a call at the front desk, ok? Then, I think you and I could stand to get some breakfast. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Vanessa smiled, shutting her eyes again, “I’ll be waiting.”

“I sure as hell hope so,” I giggled, “I take you somewhere like this and you bail? That’s just dirty, Vanessa.”

“Go, asshole,” she laughed with me, “Don’t keep the Old Man waiting.”

She got it. She understood. I’ll keep her around. For as long as I can. I threw my pants back on and headed downstairs. What could the Old Man want from me now? He knows I’m here with Vanessa. He’s not trying to cockblock me. Which had me curious. What happened? When I got to the lobby, I grabbed the phone at the front desk, “Hello?”

“Get. Home. Now.” Wait a minute. That wasn’t the Old Man. How in the fuck would César know I’m here? But by the sounds of things, he’s pissed.

“What’s going on?” I knew better than to freak. But César knows I’m with Vanessa, too. And he wouldn’t cockblock me unless absolutely necessary.

“We had cops on our front door this morning, Frankie,” César filled me in, “And it was after Mama went to work. They said something about a missing persons report and that there’s a chance it could’ve been a kidnapping. So, they came knocking on our door. Care to explain why that might have been?”

“I…”

“You know what?” César was beyond pissed. He was at that scary calm place he got to when his anger could level a small village, “Tell me when you get here and I’ll explain what happened then.”

Click.

Oh, yeah. César’s pissed. But why the hell would cops be on our door for a kidnapping charge? None of us would even think about it. But I needed to get some things set straight. And only one person (who didn’t want me burned at the stake) could do that, “Excuse me…”

“Yes, sir?” Aww…It wasn’t the cute receptionist from last night. But I’ll take this one, too, “Can I help you?”

“Do you mind if I make a quick call on your phone, please?” I asked.

“Of course,” she allowed, “Go ahead.”

“Thank you,” I punched in the Old Man’s number.

“Hello?” the Old Man answered.

“Hey, Old Man,” I winced, “It’s Frankie. Shit might be getting messy. And I might be in need of some help.”

“What kind of help?” he wondered.

“Apparently, I had cops on my door this morning,” I explained, “I don’t know too many details, but shit might be going down soon.”

“Alright,” the Old Man backed off, “Keep me posted. And be careful, kid. I’ll stay by the phone today.”

“Thanks, Old Man.” That made me feel a little better. I’ll take it.

“That’s what I’m here for, Frankie,” he assured me, “You were right to call. And if you need someone to take care of it, let me know.”

“I will.”

Click.

What the hell went down at my house this morning? Regardless, I needed to grab the girl and get out of here before something like that happens here. I don’t need to be leaving somewhere like this with a girl like her in handcuffs. The elevator music on the way back up only pissed me off. Who the fuck would be sending cops to our door because of a kidnapping? Anyone that knew us would know better. We wouldn’t do something so stupid. Everyone that was ever with us was always with us willingly.

When I went back to the room, Vanessa was sitting up in bed, flipping through the TV channels, “So, what did the Old Man want?”

“We have to go,” I hated tearing her away from this, but unfortunately, we had to split.

“Is everything ok?” Vanessa jumped out of bed, following me out.

“No.” I didn’t want to get her involved, but it looks like Vanessa was about to get involved. Although, once we got in the elevator, I took her hand, “Some shit’s going down back home. Do you want me take you home or are you going to walk through the shit with me?”

“I’ll go with you,” she didn’t even hesitate, “I do not want to go back home yet. Not until I know there’s an empty house.”

“Alright.” If I’m not careful, I might be marrying this girl.

And so, we got back in the Old Man’s town car and headed back to Williamsburg. Vanessa held onto my arm the whole way back. She’s just as worried as I was. I don’t know if I should be all warm and fuzzy inside because she cares or be pissed at myself for putting her in this situation in the first place. I did give her the option, though. She didn’t have to do this.

#the good old days #oc backstory #fan fiction prequel #mafia au #switch #for the family

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luxurylives · 4 years

Text

Missing Pieces Part 5

Pairing: No pairing

Book(s): Ride or Die: A Bad Boy Romance

Word Count: 3,736

Rating: T (Mild language)

Summary: Logan and Vanessa flee the law firm as a chase ensues.

Author’s Note: I intended for part four to be the final part during the last Ride or Die Appreciation Week, but I decided to go ahead and arrange a multipart finale. Pixelberry Studios owns the characters. The De la Cruz couple is from High School Story (I made up the first names). Thank you so much to those who read!

Tagging: @liam-rhys @desireepow-1986 @brightpinkpeppercorn @rodappreciationweek @mfackenthal @leelee10898 @choicesarehard @client-327

“…and it appears that is it”.

Logan exhaled as he looked up at Duke who began putting the will away.

“Listen, I can let your cousins know you were here— “.

Logan shook his head and rose from his seat. “No it’s fine, thank you”.

“I almost forgot to mention that Teresa set up separate trusts for each of you”.

“Trusts?”

“Yes, and she declared Hilary Williams as the Successor Trustee”.

“Wow…how much did she leave me?”

“One-thousand, you’ll receive the funds on your twenty-seventh birthday”.

A moment of silence swept through the office; Logan sat trying to make sense of the situation. Perhaps he could ask Duke for help? After all, he was a lawyer, and most importantly, he knew his grandmother.

Before Logan could speak, Duke glanced at his watch and cursed under his breath. “I don’t mean to rush you, but I have to catch an early flight tomorrow morning”.

“Um...thank you” Logan extended his hand to Duke who gave him a firm shake.

“Take care of yourself Logan”.

Logan waved goodbye and stepped out into the hallway. As he began walking towards the elevator, he froze at the sound of thundering footsteps and screaming.

“Is anyone here!? Duke! Where are you?!”

Logan turned to see a short, slender woman running in his direction, waving her hands frantically. “Duke!”

Duke emerged from his office with a bewildered look on his face. “Vivian, what is it?”

“There are masked men in the building with guns!”

Logan froze and stared at the woman as she ran towards Duke.

“Guns? What are you talking about?”

“I forgot my keys and was heading back up to get them…and...and THAT is when I saw them! Poking around! There is a body in the stairwell!”

“Here get in my office, I’ll call 911” Duke quickly ushered her inside and pulled out his phone.

As soon as Duke’s back was turned, Logan sprinted towards the stairwell, praying Vanessa didn’t leave.

Vanessa ran down the hallway trying office after office and closet after closet hoping to find an unlocked door. The footsteps behind her had faded, meaning she lost them. Suddenly she came to an office that was unlocked and immediately jerked the door open. Once she was inside, she dropped to the floor and crawled underneath the nearest desk.

“My phone…my phone” she frantically whispered to herself. Her hands were shaking and beads of sweat formed on her forehead. As she fumbled to call 911, she noticed the battery life was extremely low.

Suddenly, the door opened, and heavy footsteps began to pace around the office, slowly they inched closer to the desk.

Oh god no…Please, please no… she thought.

“¡Oye! ¿Qué estás haciendo?”

Against her better judgment, Vanessa peaked from underneath the desk. The masked figure turned towards the doorway to face whoever was on the other side.

“Pensé que la niña estaba aquí”.

Vanessa bit her lip, the only words she understood were niña and aquí.

“No pierdas el tiempo con ella, encuentra a Logan. Él es el que Javier quiere”.

Vanessa slowly glanced at her phone, the screen was dim, and the battery percentage had declined tremendously.

“Si encuentras a la chica, deshazte de ella. ¡Ahora vámonos!”

As soon as they left, Vanessa crept out from under the desk and slowly stood up. How could she have been so stupid to trust Logan? More importantly, how was she going to get herself out of this situation? After taking a deep breath, she silently stepped into the hallway.

Logan crept down the stairs of the stairwell and briefly checked over his shoulder. Vanessa told him she would wait downstairs, but did she make it the lobby? Or did she completely ditch him? He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, now was not the time to panic.

Eventually, he reached a landing but froze, in front of him was a body surrounded in a pool of blood. “Shit…”.

Before he could react, the door flew open, and the color drained from his face. However, he relaxed once he realized who was standing in front of him. “Vanessa, we have to get out of here”.

“If you think I am going anywhere else with you, then you are mistaken,” she answered coldly.

Logan glanced over her shoulder to see two masked figures emerge from around the corner, further down the hall. Time appeared to stand still as one of them raised a gun and the other reached for their own.

“Duck!” Logan shouted.

BAM

Vanessa dropped to the floor and Logan reeled back into the stairwell.

BAM

With his back against the wall, Logan began moving towards the stairs but froze when a hand reached for his feet.

“You bastard! You were about to leave me!”

Logan instantly helped her up and they began running down the stairs with the gunmen hot on their heels.

BAM

They ducked once more as they continued down the stairs.

BAM

“Where is the parking garage?!”

“I think it’s this floor!?” Vanessa threw open a random door and began digging in her purse for the keys.

For a split second, both of them breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the empty garage, their shoes pounding against the concrete.

“Hurry up!” Logan shouted as he looked over his shoulder.

The gunmen burst through the door now joined by a third, Logan cursed underneath his breath.

“Oh my god! Where are they?!” Vanessa rummaged through her purse ruthlessly.

“Vanessa, come on!”

Something sharp pricked her finger, Vanessa pulled out the car keys and frantically pushed the alarm button.

ERNT-ERNT-ERNT-ERNT

“There!” Vanessa pointed towards the car and darted towards the driver’s seat.

“Hell no! I’m driving!”

Before she could protest, Logan was on her side and snatched the keys out of her hand. Vanessa looked over to see the gunmen retreating to their vehicle, her blood ran cold at the sound of police sirens blaring in a distance.

Once Logan was inside, he started up the car, and Vanessa climbed in after him. As soon as the engine came alive, they pulled out of the parking spot and sped towards the exit.

As he tore through the streets, Logan's thoughts drifted back to the Mercy Park Crew and each job they did together. If there was a way to go back in time, he knew he would do it in a heartbeat especially if he could be reunited with Ellie. This life was becoming too much for him, something told him to go back to Detroit, but he didn’t he stayed in California thinking it may blow over.

“Watch where you are going!” Vanessa screamed.

Logan snapped out of his thoughts as he blared through a red light and multiple car horns echoed around him. A few other cars swerved out of the way narrowly missing each other.

“You need to focus! Do you even know where you are going?!”

Logan turned to Vanessa, she stared back at him, eyes filled with rage. “Now would be a good time to explain yourself!”

“Even if I did, you probably wouldn’t believe me” he answered coldly.

“I just want the truth dammit!”

An eerie silence swept through the car as Logan turned to face her. “For starters, my name isn’t Marco”.

Vanessa rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Skip to the part about the illegal street racing and Mercy Park Crew! What was this trip really about?”

Logan sighed and quickly ran through most of the jobs he and the crew did together, who was in the crew, what happened with Brent, how Ellie came into the picture, the night he took Ellie to prom, and what happened the night they brought down the Brotherhood.

“So throughout all of this, it did not occur to you one of your previous…’ quests’ would come back to bite you in the ass?!”.

Logan sighed as the buildings whizzed by, luckily, they were getting closer to being out of the city.

“Well, something tells me that you know who was chasing us, care to enlighten me?”

Suddenly, police sirens echoed in the distance. Logan bit his lip as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“It’s your bartender friend and whoever he is involved with!”

Logan turned to face Vanessa with a bewildered look on his face. “Javier!?”

“Look out!”

Logan turned to see a black SUV pull up on their side, the windows rolled down to reveal guns aimed at their car.

“Hold on!”

BAM

Logan jerked the car around a corner, thinking it was a street, only to see it wasn’t.

“You are not on the road!”

BAM BAM

“Don’t you think I know that?!”

Both of them turned towards each other, with a fearful look. The police sirens were growing closer…but they had no idea which direction they were coming from.

Logan slammed on the horn as pedestrians ran out of the way and tables, chairs, potted plants, carts, and trash bins sprang up and over the car. The SUV trailed behind in hot pursuit inching closer and closer.

BAM BAM

“You’ve been to Boston before! How the hell do we get out of here!?”

Vanessa’s heart raced as she looked out the windows, trying to place her surroundings. Were they in Willow Creek? West End? South End? Hyde Park? Dorchester?

“Vanessa!”

BAM

Vanessa came to her senses at the sound of another gunshot and pointed up ahead. “I don’t remember this neighborhood…I think it’s Rivermont?! Turn right up ahead and keep going straight and make a left! The highway should be up ahead…I think…”

Logan winced but he didn’t have time to question her, all of the months he spent tearing through the Los Angeles streets with the Mercy Park Crew took control. With fierce precision, he veered right and sent the sedan gliding down a narrow one-way street, people cleared the way screaming and shouting.

“Okay turn—”.

Logan ignored her and veered left through another narrow street which eventually widened, and to his relief, the highway was in a distance.

Vanessa tightened her seatbelt and whirled around to see if they were in the clear, luckily the only thing behind them was debris of whatever they sped through.

Logan sped into oncoming traffic, causing a few vehicles to halt and blow their horns. Within minutes they were on the highway. Once he felt the coast was clear, he exhaled and relaxed into his seat.

That evening they made it back to the bed and breakfast in Birchport. As soon as Logan parked the car in the back, he and Vanessa trudged up to their room.

“You two look exhausted!”

They turned to see Cesar and Althea behind the front desk, smiling cheerfully.

“Yeah...we had a very long day” Vanessa answered. “We’re going to head up and get some sleep…”.

“Before you go, we had someone check-in and they were our one-hundredth guest since we took over from Eleanor Harlenay!”

Logan inched closer to the stairs and briefly exchanged a knowing look with Vanessa.

“Oh congratulations, look we— “.

“And we would love it if you joined us for dinner tonight! Cesar is going to barbeque, and I’ll be making lumpias! I don’t expect you to go back out after the day you’ve had but it would mean a lot for both of you to be there”.

“Can we have some to think about it?” Vanessa asked innocently.

“Sure but don’t think too long, the grill will be fired up soon!” Cesar replied enthusiastically.

Logan and Vanessa returned a smile before they continued up the stairs toward their room. Once they were inside and the door was closed, Vanessa angrily threw her purse on the couch.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?!”

Logan anxiously paced the room, uncertain of what to do.

“Logan!”

Logan whirled around to face Vanessa. “Dammit, I am trying to think” he hissed.

“What the hell are we supposed to do?! We cannot stay here after what just happened!”

Logan paced the room once more and ran his hands through his hair.

“I mean my grandparent’s car is damaged, and the police are probably looking for both of us…”

Logan took a deep breath and collapsed in a nearby chair.

“Come on! You have to have some kind of idea!?”

Logan took a deep breath as he reached for his phone and unlocked the screen. He stared at the picture he and Ellie took at prom, desperately wishing he could go back to that night.

Vanessa started to speak again but stopped, shouting wasn’t going to solve anything. Instead, she folded her arms and leaned against the wall.

“Look, I’m sorry I lied to you”.

Vanessa turned towards him; a tear slid down her cheek. “You know I started to have feelings for you, I trusted you, I confided in you…”.

Logan looked up from the screen and sighed. “Vanessa, Ellie and I— “.

“No I get it, I’m not her. I have to ask, was having sex with me that night an attempt to forget about her?”

Logan silently rubbed his forehead and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry”.

Vanessa shook her head as she crossed the room towards the window, she looked down to see Cesar warmly greeting someone with a complicated handshake.

“I’m sorry but you and I…it can’t happen. Ellie means too much for me and I made a promise that I would return to her”.

Vanessa turned to face him, after a moment she shook her head. “Fine, but you cannot carry on like this”.

“Look, I do not want to get into this right now. What do you know about Javier?”

“Chelsea called me earlier, but my phone died,” Vanessa said and took a seat on the couch.

Logan rose from his chair and started to walk towards his bag sitting in the corner. “Do you need my charger?”

“I have one” Vanessa turned her purse upside down, allowing the contents to spill onto the coffee table.

Once her phone was plugged in, they sat on the couch and watched Chelsea’s messages flood the notification bar.

“Sixteen messages and four voicemails?”

They exchanged a tense look before Vanessa tapped the voicemail notification.

“You have four unheard messages. First unheard message”.

BEEEP

“Vanessa, where are you?! Logan is not to be trusted! Call me as soon as you get this okay?”

After listening to the prompts, she went on to the next message.

“Second unheard message”.

BEEEP

“Okay so I went by the Lilac Palm again and I saw Javier and the manager talking to some guys...it looked sketchy, you need to call me!”

Before Vanessa played the next one, Logan placed his hand on her wrist. “Hold on, what do the texts say?” Logan asked.

“Shouldn’t we listen to the voicemails?”

“Let’s look at the texts”.

Vanessa shrugged and proceeded to open them. “Okay, so Chelsea says she spoke to Ingrid and Ellie knows some guy named Colt…”.

“Teppei’s son”.

“Teppei is the guy who died after that one job, right?”

Logan shook his head, to this day, the sight of Teppei’s car going up in flames haunted him.

Vanessa reached over and rubbed his back before she continued. “Chelsea said she found something at Javier’s place, something about a 2008 67 Komoda?”.

“Komoda…?” Logan bit his lip as his voice trailed off. Where did he hear that before?

“I’m pretty sure it’s some fancy car...were you guys going to steal it or something?”

Logan rubbed his chin and shook his head. “I’m trying to remember but…nothing is coming to mind”.

“Let’s just play the rest of the voicemails” Vanessa closed out the messages and tapped the icon.

“Vanessa you need to call me, Ingrid talked to Brent and all three of us managed to find Ellie and speak to her. We tried to convince her to take us to the garage, but she didn’t, instead, we met at the beach— “.

Bzzzz bzzzzzzz Bzzzz bzzzzzzz

“It’s my phone,” Logan said. “Hello?”

“Hey, we need to talk”.

Logan covered the phone with his hand and turned towards Vanessa. “It’s Ellie”.

“Put her on speaker,” Vanessa said as she closed out the message from Chelsea.

Logan stared at Vanessa for a moment but did as he was told, at this point there was no use in hiding anything.

“Ellie, I’m with Vanessa Kingsley…she’s sitting next to me”.

Ellie was silent but then let out a troubled sigh. “Yeah, I met her friend Chelsea McIntyre today…both of you are in Boston…together”.

Logan winced at the tone of her voice; it was full of suspicion with a hint of anger. “Look it’s not— “.

“We can talk about it later, what is going on?”

Logan quickly updated her on everything that had happened since they left California to the car chase earlier.

“Oh my god…” Ellie’s said as her voice trailed off. “…so Javier is probably— “.

“Look, any information you have would be helpful right now” Vanessa interjected harshly.

Before Ellie responded, she took a deep breath. “Right, Ximena and Toby are here too, I’m putting you on speaker”.

“Hey! I haven’t heard from you in forever!” Toby called out cheerfully.

“Uh Toby, we spoke to him earlier…” Ximena said.

“I miss you guys,” Logan said. “But right now we need to focus, does anyone remember Teppei mentioning Javier? I’m starting to wonder if that is his real name…” Logan replied.

“I’m pretty sure it’s an alias” Ximena sighed.

“Well whether it is or not…Chelsea told me that she found pictures of your car at Javier’s place. Along with pictures of Mona’s Yottsume Halberdier and a gun…she mostly asked questions about what we knew,” Ellie said.

“Yeah, but we don’t know anything, and I even went back to the garage but there is nothing left since it burned down” Toby chimed in.

Ximena let out a sigh before speaking. “The only person who may know something is Colt”.

“And none of us have seen or heard from him since we split up…” Logan said.

“Well…I did see him at a salsa club one night in Las Mente” Toby said.

Vanessa and Logan shared a bewildered look. “Toby, when did you see him there!?” Logan shouted.

“I think it was a couple of weeks ago…or maybe three weeks ago…why?”

“Me, Vanessa, Chelsea, and Javier went to that club”.

“You know Chelsea and Javier left pretty quickly that night, I thought it was the alcohol and how handsy they were, but now I wonder…” Vanessa’s voice trailed off as she met Logan’s eyes.

“Maybe Colt was also there that night and Javier saw him?” Logan said.

“And to save face he knew he had to leave, and Chelsea was his cover”.

“Okay but that doesn’t explain why Javier is after us? Does anyone know where Mona is?” Ximena chimed in.

Ellie sighed and spoke up. “Look, I think Toby and I should go to this club to see if Colt will be there and if he is, corner him and find out what is going on and Ximena could go to the Lilac Palm for a stakeout”.

“Ellie wait— “.

“Logan, I don’t want to hear it, based on what you are telling me I think I know what Colt is trying to do”.

Logan stared down at the phone with a confused look on his face, the tone in her voice sent a chill down his spine. “What are you talking about?”

Ellie took a deep breath before she responded. “Before we split up…Colt told me that he would ‘law low for a while…but then I’ll rebuild the garage. Rebuild the crew’ and he said, ‘the other part knows this life isn’t over for me’”.

“And when did he say this to you?”

“It was the night the FBI took Jason Shaw away; Colt came to see me, and we had a moment— “.

“A moment?” Logan inquired as his tone elevated.

“Oh boy…” Toby chimed.

“Why are you raising your voice? You are over a hundred miles away with some girl you met at a bar, how do you think I feel?!”

“Ellie, listen to me, I—”.

Vanessa immediately, cut him off. “Are you being serious right now?! Minutes ago we were chased through downtown Boston with bullets flying at us and you’re worried if something is going on between us?”

“I don’t like your tone Vanessa, then again after meeting Chelsea today, I am not surprised. It’s like that saying, ‘birds of a feather flock together’”.

“Can we focus…please?” Ximena groaned.

“I’m sorry but didn’t you make a deal with a dirty cop and rat out your friends?” Vanessa fired back.

“I’m sorry but didn’t your dad didn’t make some ‘bad investments’ that caused hundreds of people to lose their jobs?”

Vanessa bit her lip and took a deep breath, to this day her father’s misdeeds haunted her.

“And do not get me started on what I read in Taffeta Weekly about your social-climbing, bottle-hugging mother— “.

“At least I have a mom” Vanessa hissed.

“You know what Vanessa!? You are so lucky I am over a hundred miles away! Or else I—”.

“Alright, that is enough!” Logan shouted.

Vanessa threw up her hands as she got up from the couch and stormed to the other side of the room.

“We can sit around and have a therapy session later, right now we need to focus; I agree with Ellie, going to that club is our best shot to getting to the bottom of this” Ximena said.

“I’m game,” Toby said. “So we’ll head out tonight and touch base later?”

“Sounds good,” Logan said.

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the group before Ellie spoke. “Alright…talk soon”.

Before Logan could respond, she hung up the phone. Over a hundred thoughts began to swirl through his mind, Logan swiftly rose from the couch and rushed over to Vanessa.

“Vanessa,” he said coldly.

Vanessa took a deep breath and turned towards him, directly meeting the fury in his eyes.

“Don’t you ever speak to Ellie that way”.

“She said—”.

Logan took another step forward, forcing Vanessa to recede against the wall. “Do not speak to Ellie that way…ever”.

Vanessa shook her head slowly. “Okay”.

Logan turned on his heel and headed for the bedroom. Once he was inside, he slammed the door behind him and collapsed on the bed.

#rodaw #choices fanfic #ride or die: a bad boy romance #choices fanfiction #ride or die #choices rod #choices stories you play

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xsecretblastsx · 4 years

Text

1x17 - Woman on the Verge

wanted to do this one like two weeks ago, but alas it wasn’t possible. Just one more episode to go and season one will be done.. and I’m going to miss it.

As usual recap’s under the break

Thoughts I had while watching:

Georgina is obssesed, she also looks fabolous.

I know is his brand of humour but still Dan cames across as really obnoxious, almost mocking his dad excitment about his performance for Rolling Stone. And I did watched VH1 clasics.

Rufus actually pointing out the fact that Serena probably lies to him because she’s afraid of what he will think because he’s really good at being judgy, and yet Dan doesn’t get it.

For real Dan’s like “so I should learn to be someone else around her so she can be herself around me” and I want to pull my hair out

It still surprises that Nate and Vanessa doesn’t bother me at all.

“Are you drunk dialing again?” the show always robbed us of the best stuff. What I wouldn’t give to see those calls. Just imagine it, drunk Blair, amused Chuck, priceless.

Most akward elevator ride ever. Well Chuck at least tried to be cordial, too bad Nate ignored him.

Dan is Serena’s number one on speed dial, no surprises there I guess.s

This such a glimpse of the old days, this was a routine they knew well and one can tell, the three of them helping a drunk Serena. And Chuck being pervy as usual.

I always forget Lily was into photography back in the day.

Dan asking if Nate, Chuck and Blair don’t hate each other, and Nate and Blair are like yes, and Chuck’s like no, never fails to crack me up.

Also I love how Chuck and Blair’s are so matchy here. They look good.

He has reason to be pissed I get it, yet Dan asking Serena for the truth as if he were the spanish inquisition is not the way to go.

“I had three perfect weddings, I want this one to be more perfect than perfect” I love Lily.

THe love Dorota has for these kids, never fails to warm my heart.

Blair and Nate pointing out how they’re not perfect and then Chuck is like “i’m Chuck Bass” like that’s the only explanation needed it, is probably my fave time in the series of him dropping that line.

“We’re the non judginb breakfast club” have I’ve mentioned how much I loved this scene? It’s I think the first time show explicitly let’s us know that the four of them were best friends before everything got messed up between them.

So Georgina was Chuck’s first, and I’ve always get the feeling there was some interesting history there, she going psycho on him, and him avoiding her ever since? Makes me wonder.

The Shepperd’s wedding ended up being more life changing for these kids than the bride and groom.

Serena left the wedding wearing Nate’s shirt, how did Nate explained that? Where was Blair?

The whole story of Serena, Pete and Georgina that night is awful, poor Serena keeping that secret for more than a year, it’s also really sad.

Lily’s words to Serena, are such a shame, sure she doesn’t know the facts and she’s worried about her wild daughter, but the fact is it only reinforces Serena’s belief that those that love her can’t see past her mistakes.

Seeing Lisa Loeb at Rufus concerct here it’s so weird.

Blair’s love for Serena, and viceversa is one of the best aspects of this show, and I just love how she went to Lily and set things right.

Nate taking the subway and calling Blair to give intel so she can scheme, it’s a brand new world for him.

Chuck’s always so gentlemanly with Lily, and I love it.

And Chuck and Blair are back for a scheme. Such a short bit, but is one of my faves of them because their faces are priceless, and it’s so them.

Ah Vanessa, always messing up stuff even when she doesn’t meant to. Thanks for letting Georgina know that the gig is up.

She may mess up constantly, but when she admits she is wrong and is actually there for her kids, Lily’s the best.

The whole Georgina and Dan thing is so ugh to me. This whole plot is so messed up knowing the ending of this show.

I wish we had a glimpse of that limo ride between Nate, Chuck and Blair, with them trying so hard to ingore each other. Akward much.

Pretty much the way Chuck and Blair awkardly stand next to each other the minute Nate leaves with Vanessa.

“I’m a big Leaky Hawk fan” nice try Blair.

Is there somewhere a full recording of the song Rufus is singing?

For once Georgina is right, Dan ain’t that good, and it’s time Serena realizes that.

I miss when one could take the battery out of the phone. I didn’t remember Georgina did that to Dan’s phone though.

This episode deserves a spot in the hall of fame of Gossip Girl episodes if only for the fact that is the episode that gave us The Non judging breakfast club. This is an episode that let’s us know a lot about the past, we finally know Serena’s secret and in learning that truth we also learn about the bond between Serena and her friends, particularly Blair and also how her mother can actually do help her and make her feel better. There’s a lot of love in this episode and it’s something I didn’t particularly noticed the first time around. The scene where Blair speaks up and defends Serena against Lily and she actually listens and helps her daughter is one of those moments that really makes this show more layered. Blair is also so sweet and loving with Serena this episode, their friendship is the heart and soul of this show, and it was nice when the show focus on that rather on creating never ending conflict between them.

The tale of what happened that night between Serena, Georgina and Pete seemed so much sadder to me this time around, because when one stops to think about it Serena is barely sixteen, and yet she’s already so caught up in a wolrd of sex, alcohol and drugs, and she was about to get a sex tape done about her without her knowledge, that’s really messed up, and she cames to this clusterfuck filled with guilt, we know by now the kind of friendship Serena and Blair have, about Blair’s insecurities and Serena’s not blind to this, she knows that what she just did with Nate is posibly the worst thing she could have done to Blair, it’s something that can be erased and it’s going to be more than likely the end of their friendship, it’s a nightmare, and then something even worse happens. It’s so much for a 16 year old, no wonder she runs away, and like Lily said it had a deep impact on her, and one of the reasons why she changes for the better. It was plain and simple the worst night of her life, and she’s deeply ashamed of it, and as such is hard for her to be honest about it, and it scares her to think what everyone would think of her.

Is the promise that no matter what they will support her that finally gets Serena to tell the truth to Nate, Chuck and Blair and when she does they are so suportive of her, no hesitation, Chuck’s already been helping her with Georgina, and Nate is someone who would always be there for her, and Blair, they’re sisters, and she proves to her what she said last episode, she won’t let go. These are the people that really love her, that know her better than anyone, and it’s such a contrast to Dan’s attitude.

Earlier today I got some asks about Dan and how he idealised Serena, she herself this episode said he puts her on a pedestal, and it got me thinking... on earlier recaps I’ve mentioned how the relationship started cracking when her past caught up with her, but there’s no way Dan by being Gossip Girl didn’t know about her wild past, he creates the site because he wants to find an in with her... but at that point she’s nothing remotely like the Serena he actually ends up dating, so why did he wanted to date her? If he hated that world, if she partied, lied, did drugs and was very unlikely to want anything serious? So what did he want? The only possible answer to me is that he went into this with his hero complex front and center, he wanted to date her to save her, to get her to be different, his perfect girl, the good Serena, the one that only came to be when she dated him.

I’ve been complaining about the show pointing out how good Dan was for Serena, that since he came into the picture she was differente, and how Dan bought into that, how he believe it and why he kept judging her when she didn’t comply to his way of seeing thigns, that he got pissed because in his mind he was like: realy hadn’t she heard everyone said he was good for her, so she should listen to his judgment, don’t prove him wrong in believing in her, but I was seeing as Dan gaining that belief because of the way things had developed between then and people, even Lily pointing it out, and now I kind of think he always thought it, even before he knew her, that she need him, and right now it’s making Serena’s comment of him having her in a pedestal not so good, because he has her in a pedestal not because he believes in her, but rather because he sees it as being all because of him, is almost a pedestal to his own ego. Maybe I’m seeing way into it, but the Georgina and Dan storyline makes me think all sort of crazy stuff.

I know the show didn’t knew Dan was Gossip Girl here, and people complain about this storyline the most in pointing out how that twist doesn’t make sense, but to me it sort of does, I can see it happening, is just that it makes Dan a 100 times creepier, because both him and Georgina are pretending, and this episode when he kiss her, it gaves way to different kind of arguments like maybe he kiss her because he wanted to hurt Serena, because he felt she deserved it, and he could do it because in the end it would never came across as the ugly action it was but rather as him being deceived by an evil manipulative mastermind and by the fact that Serena had led him to believe he cheated on him first. One can come up with many reasons to explain Dan’s actions, if one accepts the fact that he’s as manipulative and evil as Georgina since the start. The only difference between Dan in S1 and the one in later seasons is that he just felt he didn’t need it to hide anymore, and even then it was everyone else fault, they drove him to that point.

It also makes more sense why he was so mad about Serena hiding stuff from him, because he already knew, and in his mind maybe he believe he could be magnanimus about it, to be like, see I still love you, of course like Rufus pointed it out, he never gave Serena a reason to believe he would actually understand her. Nest episode is the last one, and I’m really excited.

Random bits I’ve noticed:

That robe Serena’s wearing, if I’m not mistaken Chuck wears it too on a later season. I love consistency.

And talking about consistency, when Lily is going through her contacts list, not sure about calling Bart, the contact at the top of the list is someone called Amelia. Most likely the same Amelia that makes an appearance next episode.

#gossip girl #gossip girl recap #gossip girl rewatch #1x17 #woman on the verge

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