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nakedmossy · 5 years ago

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Alone, Together - Chapter 3 [JJ x Reader]

JJ x READER

Description: JJ is not the only pogue on the cut who deals with abuse at home. Reader is an only child who lives with her mom and her abusive stepdad, has a strong relationship with JJ because they share the same home life. Reader experiences physical abuse for the first time, which changes her relationship with JJ irrevocably.

Chapter summary: John B brings JJ back inside to talk to you, things get heated, and then things get *h e a t e d*

Disclaimers: Mentions of physical abuse, swearing, alcohol.

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You trusted John B to bring JJ back before he did something reckless, but you saw the look in JJ’s eyes and knew that not even John B could help him when JJ put his mind to something. This had blown up into a bigger mess than you could have predicted...but, to be fair, you hadn’t known your ribs looked so bad and would have tried harder to hide the bruises if you did.

You and Sarah stood in front of the mirror again and she ran her hands gently over your bones to make sure there were not obvious cracks or bones out of place. You had told her it hurt but not that bad, but she hadn’t listened.

“We should get these looked at...properly. Just to be safe. Don’t want you popping a lung because there’s a piece of bone floating around.” She said as she rubbed some numbing ointment on the skin.

“It’s fine, Sarah. Seriously. I’m alright.”

Sarah looked at you in disbelief and chewed on her lips as she resumed her work. When she was done she helped lift John B’s shirt above your head and pull it down so you didn’t need to lift your arms as high. You followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the table again, grabbing one of the beers and holding it for a few moments as you stared out the window, listening for John B or JJ.

“We need to find them” You said quietly, bringing the beer to your lips and taking a quick swig. It burned your throat but immediately started to soothe the pounding in your head.

“John B will bring him back” Sarah said, not touching her beer, just staring at you. You looked back at her and raised your eyebrows as best you could without hurting your eye.

“What” you insisted, tired of her looking at you like you were going to crumble into an ash pile on the floor at any moment.

“I’m worried about you, Y/N. I know that this is...not as wild to you or JJ as it is to me...but this is pretty fucked up. This isn’t normal.”

“I’m aware of that.” You said, slightly bitterly. It was one thing for the pogues to say that to her, but for Sarah Cameron to say it felt different. Lucky her to be from a wealthy family that never put her in these situations. Must be nice.

“I mean...you passed out at the party, Y/N” She continued, leaning forward and putting her elbows on her knees. “I’m worried about you.”

“It was just...a panic attack. I think.” You looked out the window again, trying to squint and see if you could see either of the boys. Nothing.

“Since when do you get panic attacks?” She snapped her fingers, drawing your attention back to her. “How hard did he hit you?”

“What? He hit me...hard, Sarah....look at my face.”

“Yeah, my point. I don't think it was a panic attack. I think you might have a concussion.”

“Those aren’t symptoms of a concussion.”

“Well...still. I don't know. I’ll call my family doctor tomorrow, see what he says.”

“Fine” You said nonchalantly, standing up from the table to see out the window better.

You could see the top of John B’s hat in the distance now, then his arms go up the air. He was ... flailing. Then you could hear JJ yelling, and his voice getting closer. Suddenly the screen door flew open and JJ burst through, John B tailing him close behind.

“JJ” You said quickly, watching his red face calm slightly when he saw you. He put his hands in the air and sat down at the table, grabbing one of the beers. “John B” You acknowledged him and he nodded once, then told Sarah to come with him outside for a minute. Sarah, confused, stood up and followed him out.

You were alone with JJ in the dimly lit kitchen, the sound of the screen door squeaking shut breaking the silence.

“You okay?” You said slowly, sitting down at the table across from him.

He stared at you for a few seconds blankly before putting his beer on the table and putting his hands behind his head.

“Are you?” He asked before closing his mouth and grinding his jaw.

“Why do I feel like I’m in trouble right now” you said sternly, leaning back in your chair and taking a drink of the beer that constituted a chug.

“Why didn’t you tell me about...” He motioned at your stomach/rib area and grimaced. “You told me he hit you once and you left.”

You took a deep breath and shrugged, looking back at his cold eyes again.

“I left a few of the details out, but it doesn’t make much of a difference.”

JJ leaned forward and put his elbows on the table, frustrated and pinching his fingers together in synchronized pointing motions.

“This was not just a fight, Y/N. He didn’t just lose his cool and smack you around. He beat the shit out of you. If I had known the extent of it when I saw him-“

“What?” You interrupted, leaning forward to match his posture. “You would have what, JJ? Done some stupid shit? Gone after him and got yourself hurt? Psh” You flicked your hand in the air and leaned back, shaking your head. “Exactly why I didn’t say anything.”

His nostrils flared and he grunted before running his hands over his face, exasperated. You could tell he was upset with the situation but right now it felt like he was upset with you, and it was making your stomach and your head hurt more.

“Look, JJ. I appreciate that you are trying to look out for me, but...I can’t be in this position right now. I can’t feel like I need to protect myself and YOU from him. I cant”

You stood up and started walking away from the table when you heard JJ’s chair scratch along the floor and his footsteps behind you. He put his arm in front of you, blocking you from going down the hallway. He was right behind you, so close that if you moved either direction you would bump into him. You turned your head to look up at him, challenging him with your facial expression. His head was hanging, hair falling into his eyes. He normally towered over you when he was slouching, let alone standing tall and trying to block you.

“Y/N, please. Talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?” You said back, your eyes lingering on his jaw line and neck veins.

“I don’t know...that you know you’re safe here. That you know you can talk to me.”

Your chest felt tight and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Of course I know that” You said quietly, your voice cracking. You looked back up at him again and felt yourself starting to hold back tears. “That’s kind of the only thing I know right now.”

JJ’s face pinched and before you knew it he was holding you so gently but so firmly that you felt yourself fall into his chest and collapse against him. He pressed a hand to the back of your head and held it against his chest as you started to cry. Being near him, holding onto him, was the closest feeling to home you knew. You felt him kiss the top of your head before you pulled back to look up at him. He held your eyes and brought a hand to the clean side of your face, putting it under your chin and tilting your head so he could brush a light kiss above your bruised eye, around your bruised cheek, and on your jaw line. Lastly, he slowly placed a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth near where your lip was split. You felt adrenaline pumping through your body, and your head felt light. It was happening so fast but so naturally that you didn’t need to think about anything, you just let your body move with JJ’s. You had dreamed about this moment for years, but never like this, never in this state. He ran his thumb across your bottom lip and waited until you met his eyes again before you both shared a breathless moment and he lowered his lips onto yours firmly. It hurt, minimally, but you didn’t care at all. You moved your lips in sync with his, hungrily latching yourself onto him and feeling his hand move from the back of your head to the nape of your neck, cradling your head. You pressed your body against him until there was no space left between you. Mindlessly he brought a hand to your rib cage below your breast and you let out a sharp breath.

“Shit, I’m sorry” He breathed into your mouth between kisses. You shook your head and kept kissing him, managing to mutter an ‘it’s fine’ inaudibly.

You pulled him by his shirt backwards down the hallway until you bumped into a wall, catching your foot and tripping you slightly. JJ hooked a hand under your thigh and lifted you up, cradling a hand behind your back as he lifted you into the air and you wrapped your legs around his hips. He walked both of you into the spare bedroom he always slept in, still feverishly kissing you as if he couldn’t get close enough, fast enough. He was a good kisser, it was fluid and smooth and easy.

You kicked the door shut as JJ walked you both through it, and he gently placed you down on the bed. You watched him as he peeled his shirt off and threw it in the corner, his tanned skin stretched tight over his muscles which glistened with sweat. He leaned down, returning to your mouth and you tangled your fingers into his hair, consumed by him. You felt his hands moving to lift your shirt off, you moved your hands to his belt to start undoing it.

You didn’t want him to take your shirt off, knowing it would expose the bruises again, but JJ’s hands worked tirelessly against you and you relented, lifting your arms slowly and carefully as high as you could without it hurting. He knelt down on the floor in front of where you sat on the edge of the bed and brought the shirt over your head carefully, throwing it in the corner where his laid crumpled in a ball.

With your stomach and ribs exposed, wearing nothing but your bikini, JJ leaned forward and ran his fingers slowly across the tender and bruised flesh, giving you goosebumps. He was eye level with your chest, and started planting kisses first on your collar bones, then in between your breasts, then slowly lower he placed kisses across your bruises, on either side. You kissed the top of his head, then put your hands under his chin and lifted his face to yours. He had tears in his eyes.

“JJ” Your voice broke when you saw his eyes, full of sadness and pain. “Don’t cry, its okay” you whispered, wiping his tears with your thumbs.

“I love you” JJ whispered back, his voice cracking. “I always have. I know we’ve said it before. But I mean, I really love you, Y/N.”

He didn’t need to say it, you knew what he meant. You knew it was different this time than the handful of friendly “love you’s” you had shared growing up.

“I love you too” You said back, breathlessly.

He smiled and pressed his mouth to yours again, lowering you onto your back, climbing on top of you. You were tangled in each other now, legs and arms all over each other, JJ careful not to touch your ribs or bump your face. You felt the butterflies and the tingles and the adrenaline pumping now, you had never kissed anyone like this, it had never felt this good.

JJ’s hand caressed your shoulder, drifting over your chest near your throat, which sent a wave of panic through you, jolting you back and away from him. You covered your throat with your hand, breathing heavily and closing your eyes for a moment. When you closed your eyes you saw a vision of your stepdad holding you against the wall by your neck pass by.

“You okay? What happened? Did I hurt you?” JJ’s eyes were wide and he stayed frozen in place, watching you. You shook your head, shaking the vision away.

“Sorry, I’m sorry” You breathed, stretching your neck around and rubbing the skin.

JJ moved towards you, his hand on your leg, leaving a bit of space.

“You’re safe with me.” He said calmly, waiting for you to open your eyes. You did, and met his with your own full of disappointment. “It’s okay. We can slow down.”

Frustrated, you buried your face in your hands, letting out a puff of air. You felt JJ’s hands pull yours away from your face, and hold them gently.

“I don't want to slow down” You said in a small voice, sounding as pathetic as you felt.

“What’s the rush” JJ smiled, shrugging lightly. “I want you to enjoy it. I don't want you to...feel that.” He motioned to your throat. You nodded and bit your lip, finding it hard to look at him.

He leaned forward slowly, keeping his eyes on yours, and blew hot breath on your neck before kissing the skin lightly. You swore you felt your eyes trying to roll into the back of your head, you had to close them.

“Come here” He murmured, opening his arms and letting you crawl into them. He pulled you back onto the bed until he was leaning against the wall, and cradled you in his lap. “This is perfect” He whispered into your hair, kissing the top of your head again.

After the most traumatic, eventful, and tiring day of your life, you fell asleep to the motion of his chest moving up and down and his hands drawing pictures on your back.

#jj #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #obx #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks netflix #nakedmossywrites

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jasontoddiefor · 5 years ago

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Medical trauma time travel AU, what’s that thought on the younglings 👀

Wouldn’t you like to know? Read on AO3 too if you like!

Anakin had paled the closer they had come to Coruscant. The moment the planet had been withing sights, he’d looked ready to either bolt or launch a full-on attack on al the horrors he had dreamed of. Nowadays, most of Anakin’s reactions could be systematically sorted to fight-or-flight, all the curiosity that used to follow with his brashness was gone. As much as it had frustrated Obi-Wan, he missed it now. Those times had been easier, didn’t involve a Sith actually being in charge of the Republic. Obi-Wan thoroughly regretted discarding Dooku’s words years ago. Had he listened, been more open to the idea of another Jedi Master betraying all their values, perhaps it all wouldn’t have come as far as Anakin’s terror-filled nights suggested.

“Ready?” Obi-Wan asked as their shuttle landed in one of the smallest hanger bays. They hadn’t announced their arrival loudly on purpose and were, by all means, sneaking in from the back entrance.

Anakin didn’t even turn to look at him. He just stood straight as if he were in a military debriefing, his hands firmly clasped behind his back.

“Yes.”

Ahsoka exchanged a look with Obi-Wan. She wasn’t his Padawan, but she had quickly picked up on their silent communication to send him a look that perfectly expressed her disbelief and the suggestion that perhaps they should stay on the ship just a little while longer, give Anakin some time to get used to being on-planet before they rushed into the temple.

But then the door opened and Anakin, seemingly unaware of what had transpired beneath his nose, marched out like he was strolling through a battlefield, his army behind him and the enemy in front. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan followed him quickly, Ahsoka to his left and Obi-Wan on his right. They swiftly crossed the hanger and made their way to the lifts. The one here wasn’t used particularly often, it was a little out of the way considering the temple’s layout.

“We’re meeting with the Council tomorrow,” Obi-Wan said, simply to make conversation. The air surrounding him felt heavy, like a blanket of stones on his shoulders. “More Council members will be on-planet then and don’t have to be excluded due to long-range communication.”

They had decided that the delicate information Anakin was carrying mustn’t be intercepted by anybody. No matter how secure their lines were, there was always the chance a clever slicer could figure out how to tap into them. Their debriefing would exclude all members who weren’t present in person, but perhaps it was also for the best that they were a smaller group. That way there would be fewer people asking questions and demanding explanations.

Anakin made no sign that he had heard Obi-Wan. He looked distracted, his blue eyes dark and focusing on nothing in particular, just staring at the empty halls. Obi-Wan was glad they had arrived in the early morning when most inhabitants of the temple were busy studying and doing their daily duties instead of rushing through the many passages.

“We’re going to our quarters then?” Ahsoka asked. “The kitchen will be empty, want me to grab something?”

“A light meal would be beneficial,” Obi-Wan mused. His eyes darted to Anakin. He still showed no reaction. His expression was frustratingly unreadable and he had buried his presence deep in the Force. All the instances where he had been unable to keep his face neutral since his awakening flashed before Obi-Wan’s mind he couldn’t correlate that man with the one in front of him.

Anakin had hinted that he hadn’t been in the temple since the creation of the Sith Empire, though he hadn’t been particularly clear on it, nor how the Jedi had been driven out of it.

There were no survivors, he had said and left it at that.

The thought made him sick. It must have been a bloodbath. All their old, the sick, the younglings- Obi-Wan let the thought go. He couldn’t afford to pursue it.

“You and Skyguy will be alright?” Ahsoka asked hesitantly.

“Yes, Padawan,” Obi-Wan replied. “We’ll start cleaning up, see if we can unearth Anakin’s bed from his latest project.”

“And get my room set up?” Ahsoka teased.

Obi-Wan pulled a face. Right. They keep meaning to clean up the room that had turned into Anakin’s greenhouse/workstation and Obi-Wan’s storage to make space for Ahsoka, but they still hadn’t. It was rare all three of them actually needed to be in their rooms at the same time, shuffling around the beds and sofa had become a little too commonplace.

“Why not?” Obi-Wan said. “Might as well use the evening.”

They turned around the corner, getting closer to the place where their rooms were hosted.

“-can’t catch me!”

“Sors, wait!”

Faster than they had any right to be, two younglings ran down the hallway they were just going to turn into. The children saw the trio too late and before they could stop on the slippery ground, crashed right into them.

“Wah!” The blond human boy fell to the ground in front of them while his green Twi’lek companion managed to catch herself on Ahsoka’s robes.

“You should be more careful,” Ahsoka said as the girl let go of her.

Blushing brightly the child, only an Initiate going by her lack of braid, bowed. “Sorry! We’re running an errand for Master Terrak. Sors, c’mon, get up.”

“Y-yeah, uh, sorry!” The boy stuttered and hurried to his feet. His eyes were wide with admiration and darted between the three of them as if he couldn’t decide who to focus on the longest. He too bowed and then, in a more moderate pace, walked past them together with his friend. After only a few glances thrown over their shoulders, the two were back to running, certainly about to cause another accident.

“Good to know the temple is as lively as always,” Obi-Wan sighed. “Let’s continue.”

But Anakin didn’t move. He stood frozen as solid as a block of ice, entirely void in the Force. Obi-Wan could still see him, but if not for that, he wouldn’t believe his Padawan was actually there.

“Anakin?”

Obi-Wan held out his hand, giving Anakin the time to see that he was approaching him, but Anakin still didn’t move.

“Anakin, can you hear me?”

But Anakin still didn’t react at all.

“Master?” Ahsoka tried but her attempt yielded the same results.

The two of them exchanged a look. Anakin had gone still like this before, they had worked out how to deal with it as well, but they hadn’t expected it to happen here, removed from the front. It wasn’t far to their rooms from here, and finding a safe place for the eventual escalation while they were in the middle of the temple was unlikely.

“Go ahead,” Obi-Wan told Ahsoka. “Make sure nobody else is there.”

She nodded and, after shooting Anakin another worried look, rushed off into the direction of their quarters.

“Right,” Obi-Wan muttered. He tried to project as much calmness and peace as he could as he took Anakin’s hand and began guiding him down the corridor.

He started talking about whatever came to his mind, eventually settling on recounting history lessons on how and when the temple was built, stories Anakin had heard countless times since he had come to the temple. His Padawan had said that he appreciated white noise of any kind, just reminders that he wasn’t alone here and that it was no elaborate hallucination and so Obi-Wan stumbled through stories. Anakin tended to remove himself from others nowadays, but no matter how much he closed himself off from everybody, it was written all over his every gesture that he hated being left alone. His Padawan had become a walking contradiction right in front of Obi-Wan’s eyes and he hadn’t been there to witness the change, only the aftermath.

They turned into another corridor and Anakin was still staring at shades Obi-Wan couldn’t see. At the very end of the hallway, Ahsoka was already waiting for them. When Obi-Wan ushered Anakin into their quarters, she closed the door behind them. Obi-Wan guided Anakin towards their sofa and like a doll whose strings had been cut, Anakin followed him and sat down on the light pillows. Somewhere at the back of his mind, Obi-Wan registered that Ahsoka must have used the couple minutes of her headstart to also clean up their living room a little, pack away the small and breakable things, not that there weren’t still plenty of objects Anakin could break apart when he lashed out.

Obi-Wan would prefer it if it were a question of if and not when, but that wasn’t going to be the case. He should have forced Anakin to wait another month, they could have forwarded potential intel on the war effort over the comms without needed to check in with the Council. Obi-Wan could have gone on his own and told them about Sidious. There were countless ways they could have avoided this reaction, but perhaps they would have only delayed it.

“Ahsoka-“

“I’ll keep the room standing,” she said quickly. “You get him out of his head.”

Obi-Wan let out a slow breath and took Anakin’s metallic hand in his as well, then he closed his eyes. He was fairly sure that if an actual mind healer saw this, they’d try to tear him off Anakin and their rather brute solution to helping him.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, speaking his presence into existence not just in the real world, but also in the Force.

It used to be so easy to connect with Anakin. He had to give barely the softest of nudges to his shields and not even a second later Anakin was taking up much more space in Obi-Wan’s mind than it was strictly speaking polite to. It made them better partners, on and off the battlefield. Knowing what the other was up to a split second before anybody else was a huge advantage. They fought well together, achieving synchronicity like no other.

But that too had been of a time before the horrible revelations of the future that awaited them. Now any of such actions didn’t even seem to register as anything on Anakin’s radar. His shields were stronger than the foundations of the very temple they lived in. Anakin reacted to violent force quicker than to any gentle persuasion, had become numb to the latter, but Obi-Wan wouldn’t ever hurt his Padawan intentionally. He couldn’t, even if he had Anakin’s permission to do as needed for the mission.

He only ever talked about what needed to be done, how he could be utilized in the best way, never about actions they couldn’t allow themselves to suffer from.

Come back, Anakin. I’m not hurting you. You’re safe.

It took a while until Anakin started to track the happiness Obi-Wan attempted to show him. His thoughts reminded Obi-Wan of a caged beast, shown kindness for the first time and not recognizing the shape of it.

We’re home, Obi-Wan tried again and only then Anakin began to slowly open the iron doors he had shut himself behind.

Obi-Wan?

Obi-Wan let out a relieved sigh and began to smile, strained but joyful. He reached out a little further, deeper into Anakin’s space. He knew what would come now, braced himself for the impact, but that hardly did anything to lessen the hurt of the assault that followed.

Anakin lashed out, violently. Not with his ‘saber, he had given that to Obi-Wan before they had boarded the shuttle even, but with his mind. It felt like being pressed in-between two burning suns, slowly crushing him beneath their gravity. Flames licked at his bones and he was pulled under the crashing waves of exploding stars.

Jedi didn’t shield like this, they protected themselves with calm, peace and stability. Obi-Wan knew that those emotions only had a place down in the very core of Anakin’s mind where he disappeared to when he wasn’t careful. Before that lingered centuries of torment.

Still, Obi-Wan endured until he could finally get a hold on Anakin. As slow as he had been in reaching out, the faster he was with taking Anakin with him. He pulled Anakin out of his nightmare, catching glimpses of fire and screams, voices he couldn’t place.

And then, finally, there was silence and balance holding itself together with duct tape and safety pins. Obi-Wan felt as Anakin fell forwards, his head coming to rest on Obi-Wan’s collarbone. His breathing was shallow, forced and counted, following a steady rhythm and pattern that was too artificial to be subconscious.

“Master?” Ahsoka spoke up softly, addressing the both of them, even though Obi-Wan was the only one who was really in shape to answer her.

“Everything alright,” Obi-Wan retorted and slowly opened his eyes. Their living room was, as predicted, a bit of a mess.

Back on their ships there wasn’t much for Anakin to tear out of the walls and throw to the air, but here there was plenty. Obi-Wan was pleased to see that all their shelves and cupboards were still standing and nothing important had gotten damaged. Ahsoka’s control had grown considerably since he had first met her. He was incredibly proud of how far she had come.

“Well done keeping our quarters intact,” he told her.

Ahsoka pulled a face, her eyes darting to the broken glass on the ground, the datapads and mechanical pieces lying around, the destroyed plants and pots – it looked like a hurricane had rushed through their home, shattering everything it could get its hands on.

“Anakin, is he-“

“Alright,” Obi-Wan finished for her. “He’s alright.”

Anakin didn’t let go of Obi-Wan’s hands or made any sign of moving, so Obi-Wan let him be. He was present again in the Force, trying to reorientate himself as if he had woken miles away from the place he was supposed to be.

“What happened?” Ahsoka asked.

“I don’t-“ Master Skywalker, there are too many of them! “-know. I’m not sure.”

The images in his mind, the leftovers from Anakin’s memories, were disorientating at best, horrible confusing at worst. He had thought he had seen the temple burning, but the memory hadn’t been clear. It was like trying to look through deep fog, beyond knowing that something was out there, you had no idea what was going on. The only thing Obi-Wan was now certain of now was that they needed somebody who had actual practice in the mind arts and could guide Anakin properly. Of course, that also meant that they had to be someone Anakin was willing to give access to his shields and he strongly doubted that there was a viable candidate.

“I’m sorry.”

Anakin’s voice pulled Obi-Wan out of his thoughts. His grip on Obi-Wan’s hands tightened. He didn’t lift his head, kept his face hidden. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to-“

“Everything will be alright. We’re going to fix it.”

Obi-Wan had learned better than to make impossible promises, but this wasn’t one. He would ensure that their future wouldn’t end as horrible as the one Anakin had lived through. There simply wasn’t any other option.

“The children,” Anakin started again. “All of them- they walked into the creche, to the babies and toddlers-“

Anakin’s voice began to rise again.

“It won’t happen here,” Obi-Wan pressed. “We won’t let it.”

He wanted to know what exactly they had to prevent, but for now his assurances appeared to be enough as Anakin relaxed in his arms. Obi-Wan felt drained. He was glad they had pushed the meeting to tomorrow, he doubted he’d be able to sit through that now, never mind Anakin’s own mental state. Perhaps they could even reschedule the briefing once more. Tomorrow would come way too soon.

“Let’s just stay here for a while,” Obi-Wan said. “We can clean up another time.”

Ahsoka grimaced the chaos around them with disdain. “Yeah, right. Dibs on your bed tonight.”

“Whatever you want dear,” Obi-Wan replied. “I think you deserve a good night’s-“

Obi-Wan was interrupted by loud banging against their front door.

“Kenobi!” Somebody shouted intensely. “Is everything alright!? Open up!”

What could anybody possibly want now that warranted such a reaction? Couldn’t they be left alone in the temple for even five minutes-

Obi-Wan cursed under his breath. He’d been so stupid. Back on the ship, there usually weren’t any more Jedi than them, they hadn’t needed to watch out for anybody catching backlash in the Force. Now back in the temple, there were thousands who could feel the Force. Anakin’s breakdown definitely hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Ahsoka-“

“On it,” the Padawan replied and swiftly got up to reassure the worried parties at their front door that nobody was getting tortured in their rooms.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #obi-wan kenobi #tcw #fanfic #medical trauma time travel au #ask #anon #Anonymous

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writingithink · 4 years ago

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Tangled Timelines Chapter 4 Rated: T Chapter Word Count: 8,468 Chapter Summary: Their tour of Torchwood does not go well. Notes: Okay so it's been awhile, but I'm back! Life is still p busy and chaotic, buuut the muse is kinder to me when there's more sunshine, so ... *shrug* I can only hope the update is worth the wait XP Hopefully the fact that it's the longest chapter yet helps?

MASSIVE thanks to @hey-there-juliet for being an amazing beta, as always.

All mistakes are definitely mine, being as I cannot leave anything alone.

I own nothing.

Read it on AO3!!

<-Ch 3

They left the warehouse through a dingy corridor, which the Doctor suspected was actually a tunnel. The air felt stale and damp despite the ventilation shafts running above them. Plus, Yvonne was currently silent, not giving them an enthusiastic description of where they were or where they were going - likely an attempt to disorient them. Cheeky, really.

“All those times I’ve been to Earth, I’ve never heard of you,” he told her, mostly trying to figure out how that was even possible, and partly because hearing nothing but their echoing footsteps was starting to get on his nerves.

Rose was quiet, both verbally and in his head, as she continuously looked around them. Being escorted by armed guards through a creepy tunnel was putting her on edge. He squeezed her hand, but had a difficult time trying to project reassurance across their bond.

“But of course not. You’re the enemy,” Yvonne said. “You’re actually named in the Torchwood Foundation Charter of 1879 as an enemy of the Crown.”

Wait, 1879?! Torchwood, 1879.

“1879,” the Doctor repeated aloud this time. “That was called Torchwood, that house in Scotland.”

Just you?!, Rose exclaimed, outrage flitting through their connection. They don’t even mention me? Oh, that is just- just typical Victorian. I bet it’s because you said you bought me or whatever. I was just- just a thing. Good enough to be knighted and banished, but don’t get even a teeny tiny mention on this Charter of theirs?

I’m sorry, do you want to be declared an enemy of the crown?, he asked her. While he was able to keep his amusement off of his face, it was very apparent over the bond.

“That’s right,” Yvonne was saying, “where you encountered Queen Victoria and the werewolf.”

“I guess she really was NOT amused,” Rose quipped.

“Her Majesty created the Torchwood Institute with the express intention of keeping Britain great, and fighting the alien horde,” Yvonne informed them.

Suppose it’s best that I wasn’t mentioned, his wife admitted over the bond. Imagine what would’ve happened if Torchwood did know about me and snatched me up, took me prisoner or something before we even met?

She actually made a very good point.

“But if I’m the enemy, does that mean that I’m a prisoner?” the Doctor asked, more than a little worried.

Earth during this time, from his perspective? Mostly harmless. Torchwood, however, had an awful lot of very not-harmless extraterrestrial technology. And while they couldn’t get into the TARDIS and couldn’t actually stop him from sensing where she was, they did seem to have a sporting chance of keeping them from reaching her.

“Oh yes,” Yvonne answered as they made a sharp turn and exited the tunnel to stop abruptly in front of a heavily enforced door. “But we’ll make you perfectly comfortable. And there is so much you can teach us. Starting with this.”

The door slid open and she led them into what appeared to be some sort of laboratory.

“Now, what do you make of that?” she asked, not needing to be any more specific. There was no way that he couldn’t know what she was referring to, the way the sphere was hovering at the end of the narrow space, every single piece of equipment in the room trained on it. And it was decidedly wrong. More wrong than the ghosts, than Torchwood’s existence, than … anything on the planet , really.

The Doctor couldn’t take his eyes off it.

All of his senses were going haywire, forcing him to block out most of the bond in order to shield Rose from just how- how awful this thing was.

“You must be the Doctor,” he was dimly aware that someone was speaking to him. “Rajesh Singh. It’s an honor, sir.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, still unable to look away from the sphere.

The timelines were tangling up around it, some passing over it as if the sphere didn’t exist, others indicating direct consequences of its future actions, or inaction - who knows. But those timelines were the only real sign, aside from the fact that he could see it, that his senses were giving him to prove that it did, in fact, exist at all.

“What is that?” his bondmate asked, dropping his hand. “It’s- it’s-”

��We got no idea,” Yvonne had no qualms to admit.

The Doctor shut down even more of the bond (a difficult feat), activating senses that he rarely used and was sure would only serve to give Rose a headache (or worse) if they leeched over to her. He had some ideas, none of them good, but still needed to narrow it down.

“It’s wrong,” his wife proclaimed.

“What makes you think there’s something wrong with it?” he vaguely heard the bloke - Rajesh - ask her.

“I … I can’t … I think I might be sick.”

His attention snapped back to his bondmate and the Doctor opened the bond a little bit more, as much he safely felt he could, attempting to comfort her while also determining exactly what she was sensing from the sphere. Rose was still new to telepathy, really, and there was a possibility that other senses were activating as well. Unfortunately, he also needed to figure out what the sphere really was, and couldn’t focus the majority of his attention on his wife as he walked up to the platform. All he could safely ascertain, without going too deep into her mind to focus on the task at hand, was that she wasn’t truly ill and that her mind wasn’t in any danger.

“Well, the sphere has that effect on everyone,” Yvonne said. “Makes you want to run and hide, like it’s forbidden.”

“We tried analyzing it using every device imaginable,” Rajesh explained as the Doctor re-blocked the bond and put on his 3D specs, hoping for once that he was wrong. “But according to our instruments, the sphere doesn’t exist.”

Oh, why couldn’t he have been wrong? The sphere was so steeped in Void particles that it almost looked as though it was made of the stuff.

Yvonne had said that the ghosts were a side effect. He was starting to get an idea of what may have happened.

“It weighs nothing,” Rajesh continued, “it doesn’t age. No heat, no radiation, and has no atomic mass.”

“But everyone can see it,” Rose pointed out in disbelief. “Touch it, I’m assuming. It’s there.”

“Fascinating, isn’t it? It upsets people because it gives off nothing. It is absent.”

The Doctor couldn’t stop looking at it. It was … well, obviously it wasn’t impossible, but it should be.

“Well, Doctor?” Yvonne asked, snapping him out of it.

“This is a Void Ship,” he admitted, refocusing on the weakening barriers he’d erected around their bond, trying to reinforce them in order to keep his anxiety and fear from crossing over. The blocks wouldn’t last much longer, the mental energy to keep them in place would be too great, but he just needed a little more time to get a handle on himself. They would figure this all out. They had to.

“And what is that?”

He could feel his wife attempting to reach him and hated that he was keeping her out. But really, they needed to avoid the inevitable negative feedback loop, especially since he had to do his best to appear calm and collected in front of these people. The Doctor took off his glasses, but still couldn’t stop looking at the ship.

“Well, it’s impossible for starters,” he told them, unable to think of a better word. “I always thought it was just a theory, but it’s a vessel designed to exist outside of time and space, traveling through the Void.”

Finally able to rip his gaze away from the sphere, he turned away, sitting down on the stairs leading up to the platform. Yvonne and Rajesh were quick to flank him, forcing Rose to squeeze past them in order to sit next to him. The Doctor put his arm around her automatically, and his barriers crumbled away. It was easier to keep himself calm (well, more calm) now that he wasn’t looking at the thing.

“And what’s the Void?” Rajesh asked.

It’s the space between parallel worlds, yeah?, his bondmate confirmed, attempting to send soothing waves of reassurance across their connection and dutifully not complaining about being cut off.

“The space between dimensions,” he explained to the others after mentally agreeing with his wife. “There’s all sorts of realities around us, different dimensions, billions of parallel universes all stacked up against each other. The Void is the space in between, containing absolutely nothing. Imagine that - nothing. No light, no dark, no up, no down, no life, no time.” The Doctor actually found himself feeling better, giving them a heavily edited lecture, separating himself from all of the potential ramifications for a moment. But only for a moment, before dread began to claw back up his spine. “My people called it the Void. The Eternals call it the Howling. But some people call it Hell.”

“But someone built the sphere,” Rajesh pointed out. “What for? Why go there?”

Oh, he did love it when people asked the important questions.

“To explore?” he hazarded. “To escape? You could sit inside that thing and eternity would pass you by. The Big Bang, end of the Universe, start of the next, wouldn’t even touch the sides. You’d exist outside the whole of creation.”

In a rare moment of complete synchronicity, he and Rose both thought of the Beast in the pit.

The Doctor hadn’t thought it possible, but the Void Ship suddenly seemed even more sinister.

Before time.

Perhaps a being could exist before time … if they crawled out of the Void. But how would that even work? He wanted to convince himself that it was impossible - had to be. But …

It doesn’t matter, Rose chimed in, easily getting his attention. We stopped him. Whatever’s in that thing, it isn’t that.

She seemed so certain of this that the Doctor couldn’t help but believe her.

“You see, we were right,” Yvonne said, smugly. “There is something inside there.”

“Oh, yes,” he agreed, frowning deeply as she smiled on.

His bondmate was now thinking of a different memory from Krop Tor. What the Beast had predicted for her.

The valiant child, who will die in battle so very soon.

He could feel the beginnings of the negative feedback loop that he’d been trying so hard to prevent.

I told you, it was wrong, the Doctor insisted, trying to project his complete certainty of this fact. Their timelines were entwined - it was all or nothing. And he still didn’t trust what he’d glimpsed at the Olympics, couldn’t allow that kind of hope to blind him of the danger of their current situation, but he played the memory for her anyway. He needed her to believe it. They just needed to get through this.

“So, how do we get in there?” Rajesh asked.

Oh, how he hated it when people asked the wrong questions.

“We don’t!” he ordered, launching himself up off the platform. “We send that thing back into Hell. How did it get here in the first place?”

There would have to be a tear in the fabric of reality for it to come through now that his people were gone. And he was going to have to figure out how to close it before it got bigger.

A tear in the fabric of reality?!, Rose shouted in his mind as she got up to follow him.

“Well, that’s how it all started,” Yvonne unknowingly saved him from having to respond to his seething wife. “The sphere came through into this world and the ghosts followed in its wake.”

“Show me,” the Doctor demanded, voice clipped as he took Rose’s hand and marched out of the room.

You’ve known about this Void stuff the whole bloody time, she continued complaining over the bond. Why the HELL didn’t you say something sooner?

I didn’t want to worry you unless I had to, he admitted. When it was just those ghosts, I thought that maybe it would be a simple fix. But that ship is corporeal. It made it properly through. The ghosts haven’t, so I thought I might just be dealing with a potential crack in the Universe. An almost crack. Like when you drop a mug and it gets a tiny hairline fracture. It hasn’t actually broken, just damaged enough that bacteria can get caught in it. You shouldn’t really drink out of it anymore if you can help it, but if you wanted to you could still use it to store pencils.

They took a left and barely made it past the door before he heard Yvonne shout, “No, Doctor.”

He quickly pivoted, accidentally dragging his bondmate in a circle, and then purposefully held his head high as they walked past the door again.

So the ship broke the mug, then, Rose continued as Yvonne and one of the soldiers caught up to them.

Yup. The metaphor kind of falls apart a bit after that, though. I’ll think of something better, just give us a tick. And … I’m sorry. It’s not like I thought you couldn’t handle it or anything.

They were directed to a lift, and as soon as they got inside his bondmate let go of his hand and crossed her arms.

Honestly, the Doctor pleaded across their bond, I was hoping that I was wrong. That it just appeared like they’d crossed the Void.

She glanced his way before eyeing the screen that was tracking their progress up the floors at a rate that was much faster than he could recall lifts being in this time period. The further up they went, the more his senses were screaming at him that things were not right. Timelines were twisting into strange shapes, and what was an occasional flicker everywhere else was more like a strobe as they shifted in and out of existence. The Doctor felt increasingly grateful that the barriers around his senses were much stronger than the rest.

You really weren’t trying to keep me out of some plan you’re cookin’?

Absolutely not, he hastily agreed. Me? A plan? Bold of you to think I have one.

His bondmate covered her mouth with a hand as her laughter rang out over their connection. Much better. Well, relatively. They were still in the middle of a gigantic potentially-Universe-ending catastrophe, but who said he couldn’t still appreciate the little things?

Yvonne led them out at the 45th floor - the very top of the building. Or maybe skyscraper was a better word.

“Right this way, then,” she said, and while Yvonne had started off leading them, they soon matched her pace - the breach was so large that there was no way the Doctor could have missed it even without the escort.

Within moments they turned a corner and there it was. Dormant, but there.

“The sphere came through here,” Yvonne stated. “A hole in the world.”

The Doctor dropped Rose’s hand as he approached the tear. Even in its current state, he could tell how large it was - that it had been growing. He reached up a hand, tracing its edge. Tingly. Tingly, but the bad kind. His hairs stood on end.

Is that safe? His wife’s worry coated their bond.

It’s fine, he assured her. It’s closed … for now.

“Not active at the moment,” Yvonne continued, “but when we fire particle engines at that exact spot, the breach opens up.”

So they made the hole, then? Why?!

He could tell that his bondmate was wondering the exact same thing.

“How did you even find it?” the Doctor asked, deciding to start at the beginning (so to speak), as he backed away to look at the rip in reality in its entirety.

“We were getting warning signs for years. A radar black spot. So we built this place, Torchwood Tower. The breach was six hundred feet above sea level. It was the only way to reach it,” Yvonne answered as he put on his 3D glasses.

Oh. Oh. The edges were steeped in just as much Void particles as the ship - which was just about what he’d been thinking, but still. Anticipating and then seeing were two very different things. He didn’t want to see what it was like when active. It should have never been active.

Do they just have an unlimited budget, then? Country spending all it’s money on this?

The Doctor could tell that his wife wasn’t actually talking to him, but the thought was quite loud and quite irritated. He glanced back to see Rose standing a few feet behind him with her arms crossed, frowning as she glared at the back of Yvonne Hartman’s head.

“You built a skyscraper just to reach a spatial disturbance?” he couldn’t help but ask. “How much money have you got?”

“Enough,” Yvonne blithely answered before walking away.

Well, that was … fair? He never had figured out all of the rules for money, especially for talking about money. Humans were just so … so weird. The Doctor took off his glasses and tried not to roll his eyes.

“Look who’s talking,” Rose whispered in his ear.

“Oh, speaking aloud now, are we?” he muttered back.

“Mmhmm,” she responded with a cheeky grin. “Gonna let me try out your 3D glasses? Aren’t these from when we saw It Came from Outer Space after the last time we failed to see Elvis?” Turns out third time isn’t the charm.

This time the Doctor really did roll his eyes as he passed his bondmate the glasses. It really shouldn’t be this difficult to see Elvis Presley, really it-

He stopped himself from going down that train of thought. Much more important things to think about. Rose tilted her head as she stared at the breach, then turned toward him. Her jaw dropped.

“Doc-”

“Come on now, Doctor,” Yvonne called before Rose could finish her sentence.

“Yup! Coming!”

They both turned and followed their ‘tour guide’ away from the rip in the multiverse, his wife passing back the glasses as they went.

Why are those black things all over you, too? The, er, Void stuff, Rose asked over the bond.

They’re also on you. We’ve been through, remember? But we’ve just got a light dusting. Everything else, you can barely see the thing for the Void, he explained as they caught up with Yvonne only to be led into an office.

Rose paused by a window, pressing her face up against the glass as she looked down at the streets below them, while the Doctor … for lack of a better way to phrase it … wandered off. It was different, though! The rule was for Rose not to wander away from him. That didn’t mean he couldn’t wander away from … uptight know-it-all heads of shadow organizations. Whom his wife was- was guarding. While he investigated!

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much of interest going on at the moment. And everyone was ignoring him. He was able to get a good look at their equipment, though, so at least there was that. It was simple enough, but he doubted he’d have enough time to dismantle it before a bunch of soldiers with guns came and stopped him.

“Oh!” he heard Rose exclaim from around the corner. “Look, we’re in Canary Wharf!”

The Doctor quickly placed them in his mental map of London. Good to know. He wasn’t yet sure why it would be good to know, but it couldn’t hurt. The ‘ghosts’ were everywhere, so it wouldn’t help with that, but if he needed to contact UNIT at any point, they would need to know his position.

“Well, that is the public name for it,” Yvonne was saying as he headed back toward them. “But to those in the know, it’s Torchwood.”

Right then. And now they were in the know, so it was time they listened.

“So,” he began as soon as he entered the room, “you find the breach, probe it, the sphere comes through six hundred feet above London, bam! It leaves a hole in the fabric of reality. And that hole, you think, oh, shall we leave it alone? Shall we back off? Shall we play it safe? Nah, you think let’s make it bigger!”

“It’s a massive source of energy,” Yvonne justified. “If we can harness that power, we need never depend on the Middle East again. Britain will become truly independent. Look, you can see for yourself. Next Ghost Shift’s in two minutes.”

She began leading them away, yet again, and he was tired of the tour.

“Cancel it,” he ordered as Yvonne walked past.

She’s not gonna listen to ya, his bondmate oh-so-helpfully pointed out.

“I don’t think so.”

The timelines were stretching taught all around him, blinking in and out even faster. He’d experienced temporal tipping points, he’d experienced fixed points, but he’d never experienced something like this. It was fraying his every nerve and it was taking most of his mental energy just to keep the effects of the anomaly from leaching across the bond.

“I’m warning you, cancel it,” he snarled. Why couldn’t she just listen? Why couldn’t she see that her actions right here, right now, could stop the Universe from being ripped apart?!

Rose, unaware of his mental turmoil, recoiled slightly, eyes widening. He could feel her prodding around the bond, trying to get further into his mind, asking what was wrong and baffled at his lack of response.

No no no no no. Not right now, not when he was constantly erecting and re-erecting barriers. It would be too much, if she got in his head fully. Too much, too much, too much.

Yvonne Hartman spun around, showing some real emotion for the first time since they landed at her precious headquarters that she had no idea may as well be a tomb.

“Oh, exactly as the legends would have it,” she said, voice dripping with condescension. “The Doctor, lording it over us, assuming alien authority over the Rights of Man.”

“Let me show you,” the Doctor panted, racing back behind a glass wall just as he succeeded in forcibly pushing Rose out of his head. Their bond went silent. A sinking feeling permeated his being, but … later. He’d deal with it later, explain later. One problem at a bloody time. “Sphere comes through,” he announced, pulling out his sonic and pointing it at the glass, making sure Hartman watched as it splintered around the initial impact site. “But when it made the hole, it cracked the world around it. The entire surface of this dimension splintered. And that’s how the ghosts get through. That’s how they get everywhere. They’re bleeding through the fault lines. Walking from their world, across the Void, and into yours, with the human race hoping and wishing and helping them along. But too many ghosts, and-” he gently poked the glass wall and the whole thing shattered onto the floor.

For a moment, everyone was silent. Maybe he’d gotten through to her.

“Well,” she finally said, “in that case, we’ll have to be more careful.”

He glanced at Rose, meeting her eyes for only a moment before she swallowed and looked away.

“Positions! Ghost Shift in one minute!”

In a few long strides, the Doctor avoided most of the glass, fully ready to beg.

“Miss Hartman, I am asking you, please don’t do it.”

“You’re putting everyone in danger,” his bondmate chimed in, and he didn’t like the panic and desperation in her voice, so he didn’t dare turn and try to look at her again. Seeing Rose upset wasn’t going to help. “Not just London or Britain, but the whole world! Maybe the whole Universe!”

“We have done this a thousand times!” Yvonne shot back, as if that somehow made it better.

“Then stop at a thousand!” he shouted, timelines strobing in and out so quickly that he could barely think straight, barriers beginning to crumble and he didn’t have the energy left to build more, not if he wanted to figure out how to stop whatever Miss Hartman seemed determined to start.

“We’re in control of the ghosts,” she tried to convince him. “The levers can open the breach, but equally they can close it.”

The Doctor stared at her, and came to a decision, though not the most ethical one. Still, desperate times called for desperate measures, and since he was no longer using all of his telepathic energy to keep his wife from stumbling into the minefield that was his mind, he could do something else. He could project towards Miss Yvonne Hartman. She worked right next to the breach, which means her brain was likely primed for this sort of thing. Universe ending? Fine. Fine. Let her end it, then. But could she make that call? Would she be able to live with herself … whether she lived at all?

“Okay,” he said brightly, breaking eye contact once the suggestion was made and practically skipping back toward the office.

“Sorry?” Yvonne asked, just as confused as he figured she’d be.

“Never mind. As you were,” the Doctor smiled, grabbing the nearest chair and rolling it over towards where Rose was standing, still preternaturally silent in his head despite the fact that his barriers were now almost non-existent.

“What, is that it?”

“No, fair enough. Said my bit, don’t mind me,” he replied, taking a seat and turning toward the nearest worker. “Any chance for a cup of tea?”

The woman at the desk ignored him, but she did turn toward Miss Hartman and announce, “Ghost Shift in twenty seconds.”

“Mmm, can’t wait to see it,” the Doctor said, over exaggerating his excitement, his clenched fists the only thing giving him away.

“You can’t stop us, Doctor,” Yvonne declared, though it didn’t seem like her heart was in it. Good.

“No, absolutely not,” he agreed, crossing his arms. “Come here, Rose. Come and watch the fireworks.”

His bondmate finally walked over to him, and he was quick to weave their fingers together. And just like that, every barrier he had, even the ones that were normally easy to maintain, fell away as if they’d never existed in the first place. Her eyes widened, a barely audible gasp escaping before she moved even closer, stumbling before taking a seat on his lap.

I thought-

She didn’t give him time to finish the thought.

Sod it! If this is as long as our forever might be, I’m not gonna spend it pretending that we’re not together, her mental voice a disconcerting mix of defiance, anger, sorrow, and fear.

“Ghost shift in ten seconds,” the woman at the computer announced.

Rose’s grip on his hand tightened.

“Nine.”

The Doctor locked eyes with Miss. Hartman.

“Eight.”

He could see the fear there, just under the surface.

“Seven.”

He raised his eyebrows, daring her.

“Six.”

I love you, Rose’s mental voice whispered across the bond, tentative, afraid to mess up the game of chicken he’d started, but also desperate with the need to tell him.

“Five.”

I love you too, the Doctor replied, squeezing her hand, eyes still never leaving Yvonne’s, grin still plastered on his face.

“Four.”

It was a staring contest, with the entire Universe at stake, and he could tell that the fact that he didn’t actually have to blink was beginning to unnerve her.

“Three.”

C’mon c’mon c’mon c’mon !

“Two.”

His respiratory bypass kicked in, though his smile didn’t falter.

The word ‘one’ was about to pass through the worker’s lips.

“Stop the shift,” Yvonne ordered. “I said stop.”

“Thank you,” he said, managing to not let on just how worried he’d been there for a second.

“Yeah,” Rose seconded, “thank you.”

“I suppose it makes sense to get as much intelligence as possible,” Yvonne said, visibly shaken though doing a pretty good job of trying to hide it from her employees. “But the program will recommence, as soon as you’ve explained everything.”

“We’re glad to be of help,” the Doctor replied, not wanting to push her any farther. It wasn’t safe to use telepathy around humans at the best of times, and his mind was all over the place.

What?!, his wife screeched in his head.

Not you, he quickly backpedalled. We’ve been over this, remember? You’ve got the activated genes for it.

Not that, you plum! You went in her head?!

“And someone clear up this glass,” Miss. Hartman was saying, interrupting the silent row that was starting up between them. “They did warn me, Doctor. They said you like to make a mess.”

“They’re not wrong there,” Rose agreed, standing up awfully primly and crossing her arms.

The Doctor pouted up at her.

I wasn’t in her head, it was just a projected suggestion. Just- just like really loudly thinking in her direction, he tried to explain. I’m a touch telepath, I can’t properly enter another mind without direct contact. Well, aside from you, obviously.

And that works? Thinking loudly at someone?, his bondmate scoffed over their connection, disbelief apparent.

When you’re a telepath? Yes. Sometimes.

And in his case, with great difficulty. Really, he’d just gotten lucky.

It was just luck?

The Doctor sighed before finally standing, forced to move out of the way by the workers who had arrived surprisingly quickly to clean up the glass. Right, no barriers at all now, and no mental energy to make more. Rose obviously still had her own, since he wasn’t getting a stream of endless random thoughts and feelings. Well, this was going to be embarrassing. Actually-

Do you have a headache right now?, he asked her, briefly glancing at the workers around them before taking her hand. The ones that were obviously part of the Ghost Shift program had started typing on their computers again.

No, not really.

How’s that?

It didn’t make sense. He felt awful, the Void and the shifting, snarled up timelines constantly grating at his senses.

I mean, for a second there I thought I might pass out, but then I just kind of … I dunno, turned off the weird stuff?

And oh, how he wished he could figure out exactly what she meant by that, but now - unfortunately - wasn’t the time. Glass taken care of, Yvonne was now entering her office, nodding at them to follow. They both glanced back at the wall where the Void sat, waiting.

“C’mon,” his wife whispered, finally giving him a smile as she grabbed the chair and pushed it in front of her.

His gratitude, the Doctor was sure, must have been abundantly apparent. He took a deep breath before they both followed Yvonne into her office. Rose took a seat in what had been his chair, so the Doctor took the other.

“No,” Miss. Hartman was quick to correct, hands on her hips, “that’s my seat. We’ll get another.”

He turned to his wife just in time to see her rolling her eyes while failing to suppress a grin. Yvonne made the request, and by the time he walked around the desk again, a worker was rolling another chair in. They were quite efficient, he’d give them that. Then again, they had still not managed to get him his tea, so …

They’re not getting paid to listen to you, Rose commented. They’d be paid to bring Yvonne Hartman tea.

The Doctor smiled at her sarcasm as he got comfortable in his new chair, putting his feet up on the desk and leaning back. Blimey, he was tired.

“So these ghosts, whatever they are,” Yvonne asked, getting straight back into it, “did they build the sphere?”

“Must have,” he replied, not that he really knew. “Aimed it at this dimension like a cannonball.”

Though if the ‘ghosts’ were following in the void ship’s wake, he was partly curious and mostly terrified to find out what was actually inside the craft. Hopefully just more of whatever the ghosts really were, but possibly some sort of weapon. Who knew? Hopefully they would never have to find out.

Rose began chewing at a fingernail, looking out the window.

“And the energy?”

He raised both eyebrows, though wasn’t completely surprised that these humans would gladly siphon power even while not understanding how it was being generated. Problem was, they shouldn’t be able to do any of it and wouldn’t be able to do any of it without the alien technology they had stolen. Timelines strobed in and out, faster and faster and faster.

“I could use some energy,” the Doctor replied. “Quite the day I’ve been having. Where is that tea?”

His wife took his hand, weaving their fingers together as Miss. Hartman gazed skyward for a moment before (finally) ordering the tea.

Is there anything I can do to help?, Rose asked.

I doubt it. Since you can’t sense all of this, and I would not want to show you, it’s not as if I can even-

Before he could finish the thought, his mind was suddenly full of Rose and light and love and over half of his senses cut off. There were no more tangling timelines blinking in and out of existence - there were no more timelines at all .

The Doctor blinked, trying not to panic.

Yvonne said something, but he wasn’t sure what. Wasn’t paying attention, as he realized that his wife wasn’t in his head.

No.

She had pulled him into hers.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he asked, wiggling his fingers in front of his face. It was so strange. His mind was still in his body, but yet … not? There was a slight lag between thought and action - about 5 picoseconds.

You are amazing, he exclaimed over the bond.

Rose grinned, mind radiating smugness.

How did you even figure out how to do this?

They certainly hadn’t gone over it during any of their telepathy lessons. And he hadn’t yet had the chance to look for more specific information, being as he’d only just found out how it all worked.

I don’t know, Rose’s mental voice admitted, uncertainty coating the words. I just kinda imagined what I wanted to do and then … I don’t know.

Blimey, she was going to be a much stronger telepath than he was.

“I asked what you would have us do if you had your way. You said send it back, but how exactly do you propose we do that?”

Ah. Good question. And where things got downright complicated (not that they weren’t already). The Doctor gave Rose’s hand a squeeze and then let go, wanting to determine if touch was a factor in this newfound ability of hers? Theirs? He wasn’t sure, had only ever done anything remotely similar when invasively telepathically connected with someone, touching their psi-points. This was much, much different.

The connection held.

And most importantly, for the moment - overall it was completely unsustainable, not having access to most of his senses - he could think clearly.

“I’ll need access to your equipment, and a comprehensive list of exactly what alien technologies you have at your disposal, because there’s a chance you may have what I need to properly seal and contain excess void particles. And I’ll need the TARDIS.”

“A comprehensive list? Hah! Nice try, Doctor. The relevant equipment, I may be able to allow.”

“May?”

“Torchwood serves Queen and Country, and there are calls I would have to make.” Now she didn’t look amused.

“Make them,” he urged.

“And when they ask about the energy?” she requested, eyebrows raised.

Calculations raced through his head.

“Well, there’d have to be energy sending them back. So you’d have that, right?” Rose piped in before he could compare the results with historical precedence - took longer without his time senses.

Point was, his wife was right, pretty much. And now wasn’t really the time to get picky. They were going to have to compromise.

“A lot of energy in the transfer,” he agreed, nodding enthusiastically. “Run the maths yourself, but reversing all of the particles will take up the energy of key commands, power usage normal, and the energy created by all of the particles reversing at once would be massive. Long term may not be what you wanted, but I also doubt you wanted to annihilate the planet and potentially destroy all of reality, so …”

The Doctor shrugged.

Got a little rude, there, Rose oh so helpfully pointed out.

“We’ll just have to see what they say,” Yvonne said, though she didn’t look convinced, even as she began typing quickly on her computer.

You’ve got to admit, at least it’s progress, he had to point out.

Yvonne looked away from her computer, immediately turning toward the ghost shift control area right outside.

“Excuse me?” she called, getting up from her desk, “Everyone? I thought I said ‘stop the ghost shift’.”

Both he and Rose turned toward where she was now shouting out of the doorway.

“Who started the program?”

Not a single person was reacting. The Doctor stood up, taking his wife’s hand as they slowly followed Miss. Hartman out of her office. This was not good not good not good, and he could really use access to a few more senses right about now.

“But I ordered you to stop? Who’s doing this? Right, step away from the monitors, everyone.”

I’ve not exactly trapped you here, y’know, Rose pointed out, thoughts laced with anxiety as she looked from person to person, blankly typing at their monitors.

“Gareth, Addy, stop what you’re doing right now,” Yvonne ordered, the words having no effect. “Matt, step away from your desk.”

The Doctor stretched his awareness, finding that he had more energy than he thought he’d had as he tentatively shifted across their bond, the action feeling like simply walking through a door in his own mind for all of the effort it took. With great care, he was able to selectively access more of his senses without too much discomfort from all of his time senses.

“Matt, step away from your desk! That’s an order!” Yvonne shouted, and he now sensed her building panic. “Stop the levers! Andrew!”

Workers ran in, trying to manually stop the levers without much success.

He could sense nothing from the employees controlling the program.

“Look at their ears,” Rose breathed, memories from their own trip across the void engulfing the part of his awareness still resting deeply within her mind.

Their ears.

He listened for another moment before pinpointing the one typing the fastest.

“What’s she doing?” the Doctor wondered aloud as he marched over to the one who Rose identified as Addy, making note of how deeply connected they still were but unable to properly address it. Didn’t have the time.

“Addy, step away from the desk,” Yvonne urged as both she and Rose followed him.

He snapped his fingers in front of Addy’s eyes, not getting a single reaction.

No one home.

“Listen to me,” Yvonne continued as Rose stifled a gasp before turning and waving her hand in front of the man across the aisle, “Step away from the desk - oh! The call’s connected!”

“She can’t hear you anyway,” he told her, dread forming in the pit of his stomach as he turned toward the monitor. “They’re overriding the system. We’re going into ghost shift.”

With great reluctance, well aware that the results would be exceedingly unpleasant, the Doctor reactivated his time senses. Because he needed to know what exactly was happening in order to fully monitor the situation.

“Hello, this is Torchwood One, calling mayday, threat level alpha, activation code eight- four- delta- whisky- zero- seven- foxtrot,” Yvonne recited over her comm.

Sensations slammed into him all at once, timelines knotted together and breaking off, the spin of the planet speeding up and slowing down at a rate unnoticeable to the humans. He zeroed in on the devices attached to Addy’s ears.

“It’s the ear piece,” he bit out, swiftly becoming overwhelmed by the activating void but unable to retreat. He couldn’t afford the luxury. “It’s controlling them. I’ve seen this before.”

Of all the parallel worlds, really.

“Situation is dire,” Hartman continued into the phone. “We are requesting backup immediately. The Ghost Shift has been compromised, the Doctor is assisting.”

Hey, that’s where Mickey is, his wife pointed out even as she placed a hand between his shoulder blades, offering him comfort for what would have to come next. With great reluctance, the Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He sonicked Addy’s ear pod, and within moments she and all of the other partially converted Torchwood employees screamed before collapsing at their desks.

“What happened?” Yvonne demanded, eyes wide in terror as she likely realized she’d lost complete control over the situation - welcome to his world, really. Typical Tuesday, that. “What did you just do?”

“They’re dead,” he informed her, not having time to sugar coat it.

Despite their connected minds, Rose reached down and felt around for Addy’s pulse point.

“Is it really …” his wife paused, finding herself unable to say it all out loud. “Again, but here? Or …”

The Doctor could feel her mind racing as he attempted to gain control of the ghost shift program. Yvonne’s attention returned to her call, though he stopped paying attention.

“I think I know exactly where they’re coming from,” he admitted, loathe to be the one to confirm her fears, but unwilling (not to mention completely unable) to lie to her.

“But … Mickey was- and Jake, and-”

An image of her parallel father flashed through both their minds as Rose clenched her jaw.

Every sense the Doctor had was positively screaming as the seconds ticked on by and the tear widened.

“We’ll figure it out,” he near shouted as it all became too much.

Just as he managed to apologize mentally, Rose seemed to breach his mind even as a large portion of his consciousness remained in hers. The pain seemed to dull, sensations cushioned by the added presence.

Please, please tell me you can’t feel this, he found himself pleading, both grateful for the respite and horrified that the pain might simply be being transferred.

M’fine, his bondmate assured him. I’m just trying to help you make barriers.

Oh.

Well.

Huh.

While he had helped her construct some in their initial training, the Doctor had to admit that the sensation of someone doing it for him was novel.

“They’re patching into our systems. What are those ear pieces?” Yvonne asked.

“Don’t,” he ordered as he continued entering commands into the system. It wasn’t overly complex, but the time crunch was a bit of an ask. As much as he wanted to spare her the horror, he couldn’t afford to make time for sentiment.

“But they’re standard comms devices,” Miss. Hartman insisted as Rose stepped away from the desk, getting a better look at the levers.

“Trust me, leave them alone,” the Doctor insisted as he raced over to another terminal.

“But what are they?” he heard her ask, but ignored the question.

There were multiple universes on the line, after all. And nothing he tried was working.

“Ugh!” Yvonne’s exclaimed. “Oh, God!” He had warned her. “It goes inside their brain!”

“What about the Ghost Shift?” he asked, needing their host-slash-captor back on track. The Doctor looked up from the monitor at the bright, terrifying tear in spacetime opening up mere feet away from them all.

“Ninety percent there and still running,” she replied, quickly joining him at the desk. “Can’t you stop it?”

“They’re still controlling it, they’ve hijacked the system,” the Doctor quickly explained, standing up and pulling out his sonic screwdriver.

“Who’s they?” Yvonne asked, and nope! No time to get into that.

“It might be a remote transmitter,” he continued as he scanned the area, “but it’s got to be close by. I can trace it.”

With that, he ran, following the signal, dimly aware that Yvonne Hartman was tagging along.

“Keep those levers down,” she ordered as they raced out of the room. “Keep them offline! Help is coming.”

Rose broke away from where she’d been helping the others holding the levers back, quickly overtaking Miss. Hartman but still hanging back slightly.

You weren’t tryin’ ta leave without me, were you?, his wife asked, her mental landscape pulsing with agitation.

Wouldn’t dream of it, the Doctor assured her. After all, she had complete access to every single thought in his head now. He was fine to leave it entirely up to Rose, whether or not to follow him into near certain death. Not like he could stop her any other time.

“You two, you come with us,” Yvonne ordered a pair of soldiers walking past, not that it would do them any good.

They all slowed down, following his lead as they neared the source of the signal.

“What’s down here?” he asked as they reached a section of hall blocked off by plastic.

“I don’t- I don’t know,” Yvonne admitted. “I think it’s building work. It’s just renovations.”

“You should go back,” the Doctor told her, taking his wife’s hand before carefully passing into the cordoned off area.

“Think again,” Miss. Hartman scoffed, once again ignoring his advice. It’s as if she truly didn’t understand that he was trying to help her.

We’ll figure this out, Rose assured him this time, despite knowing that he was completely aware of the terror and doubt pulsing through her headspace.

I love you, the Doctor told her, hoping that it wouldn’t be his last chance to say it.

I love you, too.

It wasn’t long before they reached the source … though he couldn’t see anything. At least, nothing obvious.

“What is it?” Yvonne asked. “What’s down here?”

“Ear pieces, ear pods,” he finally began to explain. “This world’s colliding with another, and I think I know which one.”

“We’ve met them before,” Rose continued, just as metal footsteps began clanging from every direction, shadows appearing to circle them behind the flimsy curtains.

“Fell through a crack on accident. Should have been impossible. Now we know why,” the Doctor elaborated, shifting so that his wife was directly behind him - connected lifespans or not, he was the one who could regenerate (hopefully).

“What are they?”

“They came through first. The advanced guard,” he told her, trying to keep the fear out of his voice and doing a rather poor job of it as the creatures surrounding them ripped through the plastic. “Cybermen.”

Rose and Yvonne both ducked as the soldiers began to open fire, and he grabbed both their hands in an attempt to get away that was thwarted before they’d even managed to move more than a few feet.

“We surrender!” the Doctor quickly announced, raising his hands above his head to show he was unarmed as the sounds of gunfire faded. He swallowed, blinking a few times and not allowing himself to turn around.

“Yeah, we surrender!” Rose quickly followed suit, gaze straight forward.

He turned to Yvonne, raising his eyebrows and giving her a slight wave.

“I surrender,” she - finally - agreed through gritted teeth, throwing up her hands.

They were quickly marched back to the Ghost Shift area, escorted into the room with guns to their backs.

“Get away from the machines,” the Doctor shouted. “Do what they say. Don’t fight them!”

Before the scientists at the levers had time to move, they were shot down.

“We are the Cyberman,” one of their captors announced - likely the Cyberleader. “The Ghost Shift will be increased to one hundred percent.”

The timelines around them had become utter chaos within the past fifteen minutes - the Doctor wasn’t sure how he would possibly be able to see straight, never mind think properly once the breach was fully opened.

If it’s not helping, just let go, his wife insisted, tugging him back toward her mind. Despite the fight or flight responses bombarding her systems, it was still much simpler in there, cut off from the nauseating sensations of slowly crumbling dimensions.

Glad my primitive human brain can help, Rose’s (slightly sarcastic) mental voice echoed around him as the levers raised.

“Here come the ghosts,” he warned, bracing himself.

Even cut off from his time senses, the full activation was brutal. The Doctor could sense the barriers Rose had made earlier shatter, despite his primary consciousness being nowhere near them. He grimaced, doing his best to keep the pain of it from touching his wife’s mind. No wonder it was so easy for her to move him telepathically - he no longer had any defenses.

They shielded their eyes, watching as a growing number of spectral figures approached through the rift.

“What are we going to do?” Rose asked, clinging to his side as the strain of protecting them both inside her head began to wear on her.

His precious girl. So, so strong. The last thing he wanted to tell her was that he didn’t know, but the most he could do was not say the words. The last thing he wanted her to feel was his own fear, but all he could do was put on a brave face. Everything else was transparent, an open book.

“Achieving full transfer,” the Cyberleader declared.

The Doctor watched as the forms solidified. “They’re Cybermen. All of the ghosts are Cybermen. Millions of them, right across the world.”

“They’re invading the whole planet,” Yvonne stated, and he noticed the blinking light on her ear piece indicating that she was still in a call.

“It’s not an invasion,” he corrected. “It’s too late for that. It’s a victory.”

“You’re the ones who gave it to them,” Rose couldn’t help but point out.

Yvonne opened her mouth only to clamp it shut again as the nearest computer began to repeat ‘Sphere Activated’ on a loop, claiming each of their attentions as data flashed on the screen. The Doctor frowned, eyes widening as he tried to make sense of it all.

How did a Cyber Invasion lead to a Void ship?

How did a Void ship lead to a Cyber Invasion?

Calculation after calculation, and none of them added up.

“But I don’t understand,” the Doctor stepped forward, commanding notice, needing to know. “The Cybermen don’t have the technology to build a void ship. That’s way beyond you. How did you create the sphere?”

“The sphere is not ours,” the nearest Cyberman replied.

“What?”

But … it was active.

It had activated precisely when the Cybermen fully manifested out of the void.

Sure, it didn’t make much sense for it to be theirs, but if not …

“The sphere broke down the barriers between worlds. We only followed. Its origin is unknown,” the Cyberman continued.

“Then what’s inside it?” the Doctor asked, despite knowing that the answer wasn’t coming.

#ten x rose #tenrose #time petals #ficandchips #dw fanfiction #fandom: doctor who #pairing: rose x doctor #fic: tangled timelines #my fic

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marveldeliversusps · 5 years ago

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Prompt: New Hobby

Thanks for the prompt and political advocacy, @queenoftherandomword! Hope you like it!

Prompt: Looks like somone has a new hobby

Pairing: Stucky, shrunkyclunks, background Sam/Nat

Rating: M

Art by @inflomora-art. I’m obsessed with this pic.

Steve heard a knock and rushed to the door. It was around three PM and his postal worker, Bucky, would be dropping off the mail soon. On days when he wasn’t too busy, Bucky would stick around and chat with Steve for a few minutes. Those were the best days.

Mailman Bucky was beyond hot. He had a cleft chin with a bit of softness under it, wrinkles from smiling and sparkling grey eyes. He was so beautiful he even made the dumb postal worker hat look good.

When Steve pulled the door open, he found Natasha standing there expectantly. He tried to close the door but she put her foot inside the house. He set his shoulder against the door so she could push her way in.

“Nice to see you, Steve.”

Steve took a steadying breath in. He loved Natasha and looked forward to being around her. Since he’d retired from the superhero business and given the shield to Sam, time with Nat had been in short supply. However, she was perceptive and insatiably curious. If she was around when Bucky arrived, she’d sniff out Steve’s secret crush right away. Or find the numerous unopened boxes in his bedroom that he didn’t want to explain.

“Natasha,” he said.

“That’s all?”

Steve held tight onto the door. A moment of confusion or indecision would be just enough for her to elbow her way inside. This is why he needed more non-spy friends.

“Nice to see you, as always.”

Natasha rolled her eyes so dramatically her eyelashes fluttered. “What you mean to say is I’m sorry that I stood you and Sam up for our lunch date at Hot Lips pizza today, and that you two had to wait for forty-five minutes, and I can’t believe I didn’t respond to your text messages.”

Steve closed his eyes in embarrassment. “I totally forgot. I’m sorry, Nat.”

“It’s alright, Steve,” Natasha said, brushing non-existent lint from Steve’s shoulder. “I know you have other commitments. Maybe we could hang out now?”

Steve did want to spend time with her, just not for another hour when there was no risk of her meeting Bucky. Since getting together, Sam and Natasha were both happier, more fluid and less locked into decades-long patterns, but it certainly made Steve’s life more difficult. Their attempts at teasing him or caretaking were coordinated and ruthless. Loving, but ruthless.

“Now’s not a good time,” Steve said. “How about Friday you and Sam come over for a movie night?”

Natasha smiled sweetly, all her deadly angles covered by softness. She squeezed Steve’s hand gently, then dug her fingers into his wrist, making him yelp and stumble backward. As soon as Steve faltered, she charged inside and started looking around the living room. When Steve subtly positioned himself between her and the stairs to his bedroom, Natasha clocked his actions immediately. She slipped past his outstretched hands and hustled upstairs.

“Goddammit, Nat!”

Once she entered Steve’s bedroom, Natasha stopped abruptly and looked at all the unopened boxes lining the walls. “Huh.”

Steve nearly slammed into her back in his rush to beat her to the bedroom and had to grab onto the doorframe to stop himself. Natasha tilted her head to the side as if she was trying to solve a puzzle.

“What were you expecting?” Steve said.

Natasha’s brows furrowed. “I don’t know. A hot man or woman. A sex dungeon. Porn. Not a million boxes from…” she picked one up and squinted at it. “REI? What the hell, Steve?”

Steve opened and closed his mouth, not quite ready to tell the truth. The first package had been an actual order, a new pair of running shoes from an outdoor store he discovered. But then when Bucky had delivered them, REI (Recreation Equipment Inc) was apparently his favorite store, and it had given them something to chat about.

Steve had taken to buying gear from there once a week and planned his schedule to be home with the packages arrived, just so he could talk with Bucky. He’d even been working up the courage to suggest a hike together.

“I checked all the rooms downstairs,” Sam said out of nowhere.

Steve’s shoulders slumped. Of course, Sam and Natasha would be working together. They never went on ops alone anymore. Not since she was captured by AIM, and Sam leveled three blocks of downtown Mobile, Alabama to save her.

Steve should have never suggested Nat ask Sam out. Or introduced them. Or joined the Avengers.

“Nice to see you,” Steve quipped.

Sam winked at him, the cheeky asshole. He knew Steve couldn’t stay mad at him long. “Not my fault,” Sam said, as he walked into the room. “You ditched us. And if you had just told Tasha what you were hiding--”

“I can have secrets,” Steve said petulantly.

Meanwhile, Natasha was walking around the room and shaking boxes. They all had the REI logo on the side: Sustainable Gear Built to Last. She retrieved a knife from her boot, ripped open a box and pulled out a 9.8mm Dry-Core climbing rope. It was bright yellow with red x’s on it, and Steve had picked it because he liked the design. “Is this for an outside sex dungeon?”

“Stop thinking everything is about sex!” Steve snapped. Sam raised an eyebrow at him, and Steve immediately felt bad. Before he could apologize to Natasha, she waived him off. Sam sat down on Steve’s bed and pulled out his own knife. He never used to have a million knives on him, probably Natasha’s influence.

“Do people know Captain America sneaks into people’s houses with knives?” Steve said.

Sam shrugged and carefully opened a package. “People don’t know a damn thing about me I don’t want them to know, because my girlfriend is a badass.”

A paranoid badass, Steve thought. But he had the self-preservation to keep that to himself.

Sam pulled out a Lavender Harness with yellow daisies stitched to the side. “Petzl Luna Harness,” he read off the side. “Steve, this is a woman’s harness.”

Steve crossed his arms, because he had aced his Women’s Studies class, thank you very much. “All the harnesses for women were pink and had flowers on them, and I thought that was very gender essentialist of them, so I bought it for myself in protest.”

“I’m sure they heard you loud and clear,” Sam said dryly.

They slowly unpacked all of Steve’s packages: another harness, two more ropes, a crash pad, carabiners, and several metal things Steve didn’t know the name of. After each item, Natasha looked at Steve expectantly, and he steadily denied that it was for a sex dungeon.

Next came a Marmot 1 person tent, that Steve would have to curl up in sideways to fit, a backpack, and a head lamp. He had more things he needed, but he wanted to spread the orders out.

“Why didn’t you open any of this stuff?” Sam said.

Exhausted with their questions, Steve flopped dramatically onto the floor, and he didn’t need to look up to know Sam and Natasha were doing synchronized eye rolls. “I don’t know how to use it yet!” Most of it he’d selected because he liked the colors or the philosophy of the companies. He had no idea if all the gear even all worked together. “It’s outdoor gear because my mailman likes to rock climb, and he’s hot, and I want to climb him like a tree.”

Natasha grinned triumphantly, and proclaimed, “So this is about sex!”

Steve didn’t respond, just slowly banged his head on the floor. Maybe if he blacked out they would leave him alone.

“Well, well,” Sam said.

“Don’t do that,” Steve snapped.

“Looks like someone has a new hobby.”

Natasha leaned against Sam and giggled. It was so damn cute that Steve couldn’t decide if he wanted to wrap them in Christmas paper or throw them outside.

He almost missed the knock at the door.

“Steve,” Bucky called in. “Your door was left open. Just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

Steve shot an annoyed look at Sam who grinned unrepentantly. “Barton’s watching the entrance.” Steve should've guessed that, too. He half expected them to turn into a throuple any day now.

Natasha ignored them again, moving lightning fast to charge downstairs.

“Steve,” Bucky called again. “Hi,” he said, presumably when he saw Natasha. “Just checking in. I have a package for Steve.”

“I’m sure you do,” Natasha said meaningfully as she took the box from Bucky.

Steve made a racket in his haste to prevent Natasha from saying anything more embarrassing and landed at the door framing breathing heavily with a wild look in his eyes. Natasha, naturally, looked calm and composed.

“You must be Bucky,” Natasha said, extending her dainty hand. “Steve can’t stop talking about you.”

Steve’s cheeks immediately flamed hot, and the only saving grace was that Bucky’s cheeks pinked up adorably, too.

“Oh.” Bucky didn't elaborate further even though Steve really, really wanted him to. Was that a good oh or a bad oh? An oh or an /oh/?

Before Steve could follow up, Sam came up behind him and clapped an arm on his shoulder.

“Captain America!” Bucky exclaimed when he saw Sam. Oh no, no no no no, Steve thought. “You’re my hero! I mean, I’m an adult so not like hero hero, but it’s. Whew. It’s an honor.”

Sam grinned that warm, gap toothed smile that made old ladies weak in the knees, and he shook Bucky’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Did you serve?”

Bucky nodded, shrugging his shoulders shyly. “Yeah, two tours and all that, and you know, the post office is the number one employer of vets, so I’m here doing this. Helps to have the arm.” He pointed at his black and gold prosthetic. Thanks for promoting that program by the way.”

Steve didn’t pout, but his inner toddler was stamping his foot. He only got a few minutes to talk to Bucky each week, and Sam was hogging all his time.

Natasha had magicked some popcorn out of nowhere, there hadn’t been any in Steve’s cupboard, and was obnoxiously monching it and watching the three of them. Knowing her, she’d probably known all of this was going to happen and brought the popcorn along as a prop.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Bucky said to Sam, “but could I get a picture?”

Sam nodded, turning to Steve with a shit eating grin. “Steve, would you mind taking a pic of us?”

Steve took Bucky’s camera. He stepped on Sam’s foot while he arranged them for the photo, because he had called dibs on Bucky, and Sam already had Natasha. “You know . . . I’ve been retired for a while.” Because if Sam could play the Captain America card, so could he. Bucky had never brought it up, so perhaps he hadn’t recognized him.

Bucky smiled softly. “I know, Steve.”

Oh, well. That was a different thing entirely. Bucky had known who Steve was all along and had never made him feel uncomfortable about it. Steve smiled back at him and took the picture.

Once they were done, Natasha leaned toward Bucky. “Tell me, Bucky, how long have you and Steve been getting to know one another.”

Steve was 100% sure that was her code for sex dungeon activities, which, what in the hell did she and Sam get up to in their free time? Nevermind, he didn’t want to know.

They didn’t call Steve the greatest strategist of his time for nothing. He subtly scooted over, forcing Natasha to lean back.

“We’ve only recently become friends,” Steve said. The blood rushed to his cheeks again when he realized what he’d said. Bucky probably had to be friendly with everyone while he was working, that didn’t mean he and Steve were friends. “I mean, I think we are.”

The sides of Bucky’s eyes crinkled adorably as he grinned. “Yeah, we’re friends, Steve.” He paused and glanced at Sam and Natasha before settling back on Steve. “Actually,” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, making his terrible round hat fall forward. He righted it quickly and said, “I was wondering if you’d like to go climbing this Saturday. I could show you the cool spots with not too many people, and--”

“Steve doesn’t know how to climb,” Natasha said around another mouthful of popcorn. “You should take me and Sam along to teach him. And Clint, too. Maybe Tony would want to come.”

By the grace of all that was good and holy, Sam had mercy and pulled Natasha away from the door whispering, “Stop cockblocking my best friend.”

Once Nat and Sam were out of earshot, Steve met Bucky’s eyes and grimaced. “I was looking for new hobbies, and when I ordered shoes you brought up climbing, and like an idiot I said I liked it too. because you are so handsome, and my brain turned into mush, and then I just didn’t want to stop talking to you.”

“I know,” Bucky said interrupting Steve’s rambling. His eyes sparkled as he grinned. “You once called a grigri a carabiner.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Exactly.” Bucky stepped closer, his expression turning mischievous. Steve could never, ever let him and Natasha become friends. “Wanna go on a date with me?” He was so close now, Steve could pick out the flecks of silver and black in his grey eyes.

Steve got lost staring until he realized Bucky had been waiting too long for a response. He didn’t seem to mind, his smile only getting wider.

“I really do want to learn to rock climb,” Steve blurted out to stop himself from saying something ridiculous like, please fuck me in your uniform.

Bucky tilted his chin back and laughed, mesmerizing Steve with the movement of his throat.

“How about we do both?” Bucky said, laughter dying down as he scooted closer.

Steve leaned down and said, “I’d like that,” against Bucky’s lips, the moment before they kissed. Distantly, he heard the sounds of Natasha and Sam cheering, but he blocked them out in favor of gripping Bucky’s hip and pulling their bodies flush against one another.

“The man has to work,” Sam called out. “Don’t get freaky and delay the mail.”

Bucky pulled back and patted Steve’s shoulder. “See you soon, Stevie.”

After he left, Steve collapsed on the couch next to Sam, heady with the experience, until a sudden realization left him cold.

“I forgot to get his number.”

Sam waved him off, and pointed at the kitchen where Nat was rifling through Steve’s cabinets. “Don’t worry. Tasha has it already.”

Steve groaned. Of course she did. And if by some chance she didn’t, Steve could always order another box from REI.

---

Learn more about Marvel Delivers USPS here!

#Marvel Delivers USPS #shrunkyclunks #fanart #ficlet #Stucky #bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers

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snow-whiteandred-rose · 5 years ago

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How You Met- Namjoon

A/N: Hey Ho Sunshines. Here is another ,,How you Met,, with the lovely Namjoon. And remember, you can always send us messages and requests. - Eve word count: 1,4K Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Monday, the 24th of September 2018. Who would have thought that this day would change your life. Well, definitely not you. Because it was a Monday. Good things never happen on a Monday. The day before your flight from Seoul landed on New York. Tired of the long travel you made your way without any detours to the taxi stand and straight to your assigned hotel. Your hotel was in downtown New York, just a few blocks away from the UNO Building. ,,Welcome at the Millennium.,, the receptionist greeted you friendly." "Good afternoon." You tried to smile as best as you could ,,My company booked a room for me for the next two days." You said as you handed over your passport. "Just a moment Miss Y/L/N. I will arrange everything." After a few minutes the check in was completed your luggage was brought up to your room. To your surprise you had a fantastic view over the city. But you just enjoyed it shortly, because shower was calling for you. The sunlight shined bright through the windows and you woke up to the sound of the busy New York streets. ,,Rise and shine." you said to yourself as you got up. Today was the day of the 73th United Nations General Assembly. You worked for the chamber of commerce in Korea. And therefore you were assigned to keep record of the gathering. Slowly you shuffled into the bathroom. You brushed your teeth and for the first time this morning you looked in the mirror. ,,What the heck is that? Oh no. Why?" you shrieked. A big red pimple appeared on your left cheek, perfectly placed for everyone to see. ,,Great. Time for the emergency kit." Carefully you applied a soothing lotion and concealer. "Well. It’s alright. I hope. Could be better. No one will look at me anyway." Your way to the UN building was rather unspectacular. Because it was only a few blocks away you took the opportunity to walk through the crowded Monday morning streets. As you arrived at the big plaza in front of the skyscraper you spotted a dozen journalist and photographers lurking at the entrance. Sceptical you passed them and asked yourself why they were here. Of course it was the annual assembly. But nothing more. Normally these kind of events didn't attract that much press presence. Considering this was New York City.

"Ah Y/N!" a male voice called for you as you exited the elevator. "Good to see you. Are you ready? Did you had a chance to look around? It's your first time at the UN, right? Have you heard the news?" all of this was spoken in supersonic speed as your colleague Ross guided you to a kind of atrium. Because you didn't know what question you should answer first, you sticked to the last one. "What news?" "You haven't heard?" "No." you chuckled at his surprised face. "Well, my dear Y/N. If you believe it or not. Today the world famous BTS will hold a speech. Isn't that great?" he took your hands and shook them excitedly while jumping up and down. "Why do you know BTS?" you also started to jump in synchronicity. "My niece infected me. Don’t ask. That's such an unique opportunity." You liked Ross. He was such a warm hearted guy. And a great distraction from the stressful work life. "I have to go now Y/N. I need to check up on a few things. You can wait here. I will pick you up before it starts alrighty?" he winked and disappeared in the crowd. "Alrighty" you mumbled and smiled. As you looked around you saw a few standing tables. There was one unoccupied one at the large window. Quickly you made your way and placed you laptop and notebook on the surface. Luckily the table was equipped with a socket so that you could recharge your laptop battery. You still had 40 minutes until the conference would start. Deepened in your work you didn't notice that a male figure approached your table. "Excuse me, Miss. Is this space still free?" Ripped out of your thoughts you spun your head to the direction of the voice. In front of you was a tall young man, wearing a black suit and tie. He had light brown hair styled to one side. In his hands he held a tablet and piece of paper. You must admit, that he was quite good looking. There was something special about him. He also had a slight resemblance with a person you thought you knew. But you could recall. "Of course. I will make room for you." you smiled and moved your stuff closer to you. "Thank you very much." he said very politely and flashed a wonderful dimpled smile. As you arranged his things you noticed this charging cable hanging from his tablet. "Oh do you want to recharge it maybe?" you said as you pointed at the device. "Mine is nearly full. You can plug it in if you like." Another dimpled smile showed up on his face "That be great. Thank you." "No need to thank me." you chuckled as you switched the cables. "Will you also take part in the conference?" he asked. "I will just sit in the audience. No big appearance or something like that. I'm just assigned to take a few notes." you answered him. "Allow me to be so direct. But you seem to be quite young. And I think that's astonishing and something to be proud of." You loved the way he expressed himself. His word choice was extraordinary. "You seem to be young as well. So I kindly give that compliment back." you shyly looked at him but turned away quickly as you notice that you face turned red. "I'm Namjoon." He stretched out his hand. Something ringed in your ear hearing his name. But you couldn't connect the dots. "Nice to meet you. I'm Y/N." The two of you shook each others hands a bit too long considering you were still strangers. But none of you wanted to let go. Namjoon took a glance at your notes and asked "Are these yours? That's written in Korean." You let go of his hand and answered "Yeah, I work in Korea. If I write it directly in Hangul I can save a bit of time you know." "Ah really? Clever." he looked at you with shining eyes. "Thank you." you said as you put a strand of hair behind your ear. A thing you always do when you were nervous. "Oh no! My pimple!" it popped up in your mind and immediately you tried to cover your cheek with hair again. Namjoon smiled to himself watching you struggle and was glad that you also seemed to be nervous. "Namjoon!" a deep voice appeared out of nowhere. Both of you turned around. "Its time to go. The others are waiting." The man turned to you "Miss, if you excuse." He seemed to be some kind of bodyguard. Namjoon quickly packed his stuff and offered his hand for a goodbye. Being a bit sad that your wonderful encounter seemed to be over, you shook his hand for the last time. "It was nice talking to you Y/N. But my friends are waiting. Duty is calling. Please enjoy the conference." he smiled and pointed at the group of six waiting in distance. And before you could respond he was already gone. You took a deep breath to help you calm down. "Huh? What's that? Did he forget something." You noticed a small folded piece of paper. You didn't wanted to look on it, but then you saw your name. Before your mind proceeded it your hands already opened it. "Seems like I forgot something. Again. Glad you found it. Call me that you can give it back ;) Namjoon." You laughed and shook your head in disbelief. "What did just happened?" But there was something else written on the back. "Tell me your story. I want to hear your voice. I want to hear your conviction. No matter who you are, where you are from: Speak Yourself Y/N!" Little did you know that these words would resound in front of hundreds of people in a few minutes.

#bts #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts namjoon #namjoon fluff #namjoon x reader #namjoon #rm

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undreaming-fanfiction · 5 years ago

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A Night to Remember: The Company

Fandom: Cats the musical Rating: T (could potentially go up later) Pairing: multiple in future chapters, Tuggoffelees, Victoria/Plato, Demeter/Munkustrap etc. Category: magical circus AU, slow burn Chapter number: 7 Chapter summary: Quaxo and Victoria meet the troupe members, two sets of twins included.

The previous chapter: Persuasion

Quaxo prided himself on having an exceptionally good memory. He didn't need any notes, reminders, scribbles on his forearms or whatever people did to keep track of things, he just always knew what he had to do and when to do it. When Victoria asked him about it (and actually forced him to think about it, not letting him get away with is usual shrug and mischievous "it's magic!"), he realized, much to his dismay, that it was partially in his nature, but more importantly, he was just always focused. He found it much more difficult to relax than his sister did, distrusting everyone and everything. Always knowing where he stood helped him feel better, prepared. He was not the one to be lulled into a false sense of security.

And then he walked into that tent. And he felt...calm. And his uneasiness about Macavity and all the things he had to do before their performance just...became muted. Floated away. He was fully in the present, relaxed, not multitasking. And he hated it. He stopped in his tracks, trying to make sense of what he was feeling. It was reminiscent of what he felt the night before.

Tugger tapped on his shoulder from behind. "Really, Mr. Magician. No one here wants to harm you - at least unless you keep blocking the entrance, then you might cause some mild annoyance and perhaps a few pranks if you catch the attention of a certain duo - so cheer up and move your feet," he winked at the younger man and, without waiting for a response, nudged Quaxo's side. What left Quaxo's lips was definitely not a squeak and he was definitely not ticklish, but he never approved of being touched without prior agreement (or, if he was to be fully honest, by anyone who wasn't Victoria), so he took several strides inside and crossed his arms. Just to make sure.

Victoria was already exploring the tent, her eyes huge and full of wonder. I've never been to a circus before, she smiled at Jenny, rubbing her wrists as if she wanted to touch everything, to truly get a feel of the place. Such a large stage! I can't wait to see this place during a show!

"Still too small for some," Jenny returned her smile, her eyes travelling to Tugger with an unusually mischievous spark. "Just a bit further, dear. The tent is indeed impressive, but the most interesting feature of our show are the performers. Don't you want to meet them first?"

And truly, as the siblings got used to the muted lighting, they saw that there were figures seated all around, quietly chatting and glancing in their direction. It was still too dim to see their faces properly, but some features were very distinguishable - there were two figures next to each other, a man and woman of roughly the same age as Quaxo and Victoria, very similar - twins? Their hair was giving a coppery reflection and, unlike others who seemed to be nervous or at least expectant, these two seemed relaxed, sometimes giggling and nudging each other. Their movements were strangely synchronized. Just behind them, a silhouette of a man with crossed arms could be seen, with an air of defiance. He was watching the two with apparent distaste for their laid-back attitude. There were more performers present, but as they finally entered the circus ring, Quaxo recognized Munkustrap's silhouette near the back of the tent. He was supporting someone, a tall, impressive figure, who was approaching them with slow and careful steps. The humming around the tent intensified.

"Thank you for coming," smiled Munkustrap and Quaxo could finally confirm his suspicion that it was indeed him whose calming aura was throwing him off. He bit his lower lip and twitched in annoyance when he heard Tugger's quiet chuckle, as if he knew exactly what Quaxo was feeling. With a side glance, he saw the man take one of the seats at the back, observing from afar.

As he assisted the tall man and seated him on one of the close chairs, the siblings could finally see his face. He must have been very old, his wrinkled face told as much - but the air of experience, wisdom and most of all, kindness, made Quaxo drawn to that man, not in the unnaturally calming way Munkustrap influenced him, but as someone he yearned to learn from, to draw inspiration. Victoria seemed to be feeling the same way, her breathing quiet and eyes never leaving the old man's. And when he spoke, both siblings suddenly understood why he was able to create this so-called haven for people with powers. It was impossible to resist his charm.

"Thank you for accepting our invitation." His smile was sincere and voice deep and calming. "I am called Old Deuteronomy and it was at my request that my sons visited you yesterday. As they told you, we are a...particular company. This circus originally started as a small place to allow our kind to be who we really are without having to hide. That is the goal we still have today. If you decide to accept our proposal, the people in this tent will become more than your coworkers - they will be your colleagues, neighbors, friends and family. Because of that, you will want to meet them before making the final decision. I am also here to answer any questions you may have, may it be regarding our circus, your powers or anything else." He nodded towards Munkustrap. "I understand that you, young lady, are a telepath?"

Victoria nodded and, to Quaxo's surprise, stuttered in her response despite not using her vocal chords. Y-yes! Yes, Old Deuteronomy. Well, I mean, I can project thoughts when I move...but not read them. So only half a telepath, or one-way telepath, I am afraid...

Old Deuteronomy chuckled and winked at her. "Well, that is still half a telepath more than most people are! Splendid! You would be a great asset to our troupe. And you, young man?"

Quaxo, to his displeasure, felt all gazes shifting towards him. He felt as if he were under a microscope. "I...don't think I can describe it that much," he grumbled uncomfortably. "I can change some things around me. Swap things in their places, make some fortunate or unfortunate things happen when there is a chance they could happen. Or enhance some features."

The old man's expression did not change, but his eyes showed deep interest. "Curious. Some kind of reality adjustment then? That is very interesting! You too are more than welcome to join our group if you want to. Now then, is there anything I can answer for you?"

Before Quaxo could react, Victoria took a step forward. Yes, well...I would like to know - why us? What causes these powers to appear?

"A good question, one that I can answer only partially, I am afraid. The gifts, as we call them, are still a mystery in many regards. There are various type, be it some kind of aura that one can spread around them, or an active ability. Anyone can manifest these powers. However, if a child is born to a parent with a gift, they are much more likely to have one of their own. They do not seem to repeat themselves, at least we haven't seen a single person who would manifest the same trait as someone in our troupe. They can be similar, but always unique in a certain regard. There seems to be one exception to the rule, and that is twins sharing one gift."

The two giggling figures Quaxo saw earlier suddenly bolted up from their seats and took overly dramatic bows, grinning at the stunned siblings. Light finally hit their faces and Victoria took a deep breath at the similarity - both their expressions, their movements, it was as if one person split into two, only of different genders. "Old D. means us!" exclaimed the man and ruffled his sister's hair. "Pleasure to meet you! We are Mungojerrie and-ouf!" he wheezed when the girl's elbow nudged his side.

"And Rumpleteazer!" she exclaimed, returning the ruffle. "And before you have to ask, because that's what every newbie wants to know, our gift is sharing control over our bodies. For instance, I can make Jerrie slap himself! But I don't like to do it, because we also share pain. Also tickling. I hate it when he tickles himself."

"I only do it when you deserve it, Teazer," snickered Mungojerrie and leaned against his sister. "And if you think we're an exception and that not all twins have to share a gift, let me introduce our competition. Because we're not the only twins here. Come on, say hi to the newcomers!" he tapped the shoulder of a girl in front of him.

Reluctantly, she stood up and so did the man next to her. Their height difference wasn't as noticeable compared to Teazer and Jerrie, but their features were also surprisingly similar - the same straight dark hair, slicked back and shiny, the same dark, unreadable eyes and neutral expression. "Nice to meet you, Quaxo and Victoria," she said without blinking. Victoria shivered next to Quaxo and he too felt completely bare under those two pairs of eyes. "I am Tantomile. This is my brother Coricopat. We are mind readers."

Now it was the brother who spoke. "Yes, Victoria. We are what Old Deuteronomy talked about - similar power, but still unique. We are the other half of your telepathy. Except for each other."

"Our minds are connected," added Tantomile, answering Quaxo's question before he could phrase it. "We can exchange our thoughts freely, but as for others, we can only read them. But don't worry, we usually choose not to, as we perceive it an invasion of privacy."

Teazer hugged the telepathic twins from behind. "They are amazing! You definitely want to see their act, people are so freaked out!"

Jenny laughed and raised her finger at Teazer. "And they are very useful when someone, not mentioning which set of non-mindreading twins, steals Munkustrap's favorite mug and we need to find out who did it."

The man sitting behind Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer scoffed. "Not that we need anyone to read their thoughts to figure that out. It's always them, whenever there's a disruption."

He ignored the pretended outrage from the twins, but Jenny didn't let him off the hook so easily. "Now now, Plato. Since you are more talkative than usual, why don't you introduce yourself as well?"

With a grunt and poorly hidden, if hidden at all, distaste, the man stood up. He was taller than most of the troupe members, perhaps with the exception of Old Deuteronomy and his sons, and even though he was young, his face seemed older than one would expect. Perhaps it was his defiant expression that made him look almost pained. "Plato, welcome to our humble abode. I have perhaps the lamest power ever - I can transfer emotions when I move." He glared at the siblings, as if he expected them to laugh at him.

Why would that be lame? blinked Victoria, raising her eyebrows. Do you think my power is lame?

The defiance was immediately replaced by confusion. "...I...what? No, no I don't, I mean..."

Victoria smiled at him with such sincerity and innocence that Quaxo almost felt sorry for the man. He was utterly unprepared for her charm. You have no idea how happy it makes me to finally find someone who has a similar power! And such an awesome one at that! When you give people words, you still need to rely on them to interpret them. But you - you can make people feel things! That is incredible!

Old Deuteronomy burst into laughter and so did a few performers around the stage. "See, Plato? We kept telling you and you did not believe us. Perhaps this admirable young lady will finally make you change your mind?"

And with that, the atmosphere in the tent changed. The reluctant acceptance transformed into excitement - finally, a new arrival! Apparently, there were only a few people who joined the circus in the last years, so Quaxo and Victoria were considered a breath of fresh air. And the siblings shook hands, talked, but mostly listened and learned about the people who, if they wanted them to be, would become their new family.

They learned (from Jenny because the man could not be bothered to tell them himself) that Tugger was able to bend people to his will, although he wasn't able to control it, he did it subconsciously. "He doesn't like to talk about it," she teased, watching the rebellious man giving her an evil glare, "because he still hasn't found out how the gift works. The ones who were around him since he was young build some sort of an immunity, or at least awareness when it starts happening so we can fight it. You have no idea how long it took us to make him eat his vegetables when he was a child. His gift mostly works on people he doesn't live with, or at least that meet him sporadically - those can't resist it. Or that's what we thought until last night," she giggled and winked at Quaxo. "Still, it has its merits. He has one of the most unique acts in the circus, as you'll see. And my power? I am afraid it's nowhere as interesting, dears - I can transfer intent. Basically, if you mean no harm to a person and they still don't believe you, I can persuade them by making them feel what you feel towards them."

There was Alonzo, a man with a curious pigment spot over his entire left eye socket. He casually greeted the siblings and mentioned his gift - the marked eye could see several seconds into the future, sometimes even longer. He used to work as a fortune teller at fairs before joining the circus and took over the knife-throwing act. His gift made sure he'd never harm his assistant.

Munkustrap also approached them with a wide smile and, seeing Quaxo's posture, forced himself to relax and eased the calm aura. He explained that his gift was calming people in his vicinity, no matter how agitated they were. As he was in charge of keeping the troupe functional and in good spirits, he sometimes went a bit overboard, especially when he was nervous and expected trouble. "Not that I expected trouble from you," he quickly added when he saw Quaxo staring daggers at him, "but whenever there is a newcomer, people can get nervous."

And when it came to being nervous, no one was as jumpy as a certain young woman was. Demeter was also a newcomer and apparently, she had some very bad experience. She didn't talk to the newcomers much, mostly just nodded and didn't leave her friend Bombalurina's side. Munkustrap politely mentioned that it would be better to talk to both of them later, as crowds made Demeter feel uneasy. Nodding at Bombalurina, she took her friend's arm and led her out from the tent.

There were many more new faces and names and even more mentioned, such as Bustopher Jones, the circus's patron who only stopped by once or twice a week, as his gift made him easily overwhelmed - he read emotions and senses, but unlike the telepathic twins, he could not switch his power off and would often seek solitude, just to quiet his mind.

After the conversations have quieted down and everyone said their hopeful goodbyes, the siblings were left alone with Munkustrap and Old Deutoronomy. Quaxo was pretty sure Tugger and Jenny were still lurking somewhere in the tent's shadows, but he found it difficult to focus on anything but the old man. "Now, my young friends - we do not ask you to decide immediately, we know that it is a significant change of your lifestyle. Think it over, you have every right do so

So what do you think? Victoria asked on their way home. Quaxo didn't need to ask her for her opinion, she was never able to hide her excitement - she was giddy and radiated such happiness that Quaxo hasn't seen in months.

"I think they were...nice," he admitted reluctantly. "Also pretty interesting. Sometimes creepy," he admitted when he remembered Coricopat and Tantomile. "Are you thinking of joining them?"

I would love to, Victoria admitted, but her smile wavered. I mean, they were such nice people! And interesting too, as you said. But...I would never join without you, brother. I don't want a new family if you're not in it.

Quaxo grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "Me too, sis. Let's talk to our boss tomorrow and see what he can do about our contract, what do you say? Perhaps it's time for us to move on."

-----

I am running out of excuses to give for my slow updates. The only thing I can say is that I love hearing from you guys, I have many ideas for the story but unfortunately life is getting in way of everything, to provide a very short explanation, one of my family members got a cancer relapse and my mother is not doing so well. I try to spend more time with her and support her, but it doesn't leave me in the best state for writing. Thank you everyone who read so far and who hasn't given up on the story yet, you mean more to me than I can describe. This chapter was mostly character introductions and exposure, hopefully there will be some action in the next ones.

#cats #cats the musical #cats fanfiction #antr #a night to remember #tuggoffelees #Mr Mistoffelees #magical mr mistoffelees #rum tum tugger #circus au

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takadasaiko · 5 years ago

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Love Me Twice: Chapter Three

FFN II AO3

Chapter Summary: Red discovers that Tom is missing and tracks him down to St Regis while Tom looks for any answers he can find.

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Chapter Three

No one met him at the door. Not Benny, the guard who was always looking for his first chance to grab a morning smoke or Lomay who you could set a clock by the last weeks. Reddington risked a glance back at Dembe only to find the younger man brushing past him and taking the lead. It was clear something was off, even if he didn't have his gun drawn yet.

That changed for both of them as soon as they rounded into the hallway to see a figure laid out, white sheet covering him. They moved with a synchronicity that spoke of their years working together, Red clearing the rest of the hall and pressing the up button on the elevator at the other end before moving past to where Dembe had his cell phone pressed to his ear. "Dr Lomay isn't answering and Dr Chen's phone rolls straight to voicemail."

"Elizabeth," Reddington breathed, her name rolling off his tongue with no small amount of desperation in it. If she'd been saved only to lose her here, he didn't think he could bear it. Not again.

Dembe cleared the stairwell, Red following at his heels, and then to the second floor hallway once they reached it. It was there that any restraint dissipated and the Concierge of Crime tore past him with the single goal of reaching Elizabeth's room. The door stood slightly ajar, movement barely visible, and he swung into the room with his gun raised. Melissa Lomay let out a startled sound and dropped the bag of fluids she'd been replacing on Elizabeth's IV rack.

Reddington instantly lowered his weapon. "Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"I've been a little busy," the doctor snapped, reaching to check the bag. Once she was convinced it was undamaged, she continued replacing the depleted one.

"What happened?"

She shot him a look, but answered. "Best I can tell Mr Keen finally had enough of the secrets."

"What?"

"He's gone. Daniel has a concussion from where Keen attacked him in the stairwell and Benny, as I'm sure you saw, is dead. His gun is missing."

"And Elizabeth?"

"Slept through it all."

Red finally loosed a breath, but turned a sharp glare on the doctor half a second later. "He was supposed to be sedated."

"He was. Steadily. Apparently he found a way around that on top of the typical limitations of someone with injuries like his. It was a move of a desperate man. We warned you that what you were attempting with Andrei was -"

"Yes, you've said as much," Reddington grumbled, waving her off. That was neither here nor there at this point. The key was finding Tom before he hurt himself further. Red had seen the blood stains against the wall like a man trying to keep himself on his feet as he stumbled towards the door. He just hadn't known it was Elizabeth's husband that had left them there.

"I have the footage," Dembe said from behind and Red turned. He hadn't even heard him leave.

He took the offered tablet and watched the four squares of recorded footage. Tom making his way down the hall from his room to Elizabeth's and then out again just a handful of moments later. The second box showed him exiting into the hallway below and the third box showing him stumbling into the street just outside of the building, a phone pressed to his ear. Chen's, Reddington suspected. It was likely in pieces now and impossible to trace. The last box showed a steady stream of the back alley, Tom never making it around that way.

"Get this footage to Glen. Have him trace Tom's path."

"Of course."

"If we don't find him soon, we won't find him at all."

--------

He thought he remembered someone ushering him into a car. Someone greeting him by name, hands on him to guide him, and then stretches of nothing. He thought he might have woken up here and there, but it was all interwoven with shadows of faces he couldn't quite see and voices he couldn't quite hear. There was one that was a little louder, a little more clear, and she called his name even if it wasn't Jacob. Somehow he knew it was his name, but even she faded eventually.

By the time Jacob's eyes slid open again, the sound of medical equipment all around, the dreams were gone. He knew he'd had them, but they were lost to the fog of his mind. Everything was by the time he pried his eyes open again.

"Welcome back, Mr Phelps."

"Hank," Jacob croaked, his throat dry and scratchy as he looked up at a familiar face. Hank Rogers had been over St Regis' medical facilities since before even Jacob had arrived years before. The man had patched him up more times than he could remember and if his surroundings were anything to go by he'd done it yet again. "What happened?"

There was a moment of hesitation and a flash of uncertainty. "You called for… an extraction. Do you remember what happened?"

Jacob grimaced and forced himself to think through the pain medication. "I woke up in this building."

"A hospital?"

"Sort of. Not public. I think they told me I'd been working a job, but I can't remember. Everything's fuzzy." He turned blue eyes to meet a set of dark brown. "Was I working a job? Hell, Bud's gonna kill me. How bad did I botch it?"

Hank's bushy brows drew together and the corners of his lips dipped low in a frown. "Let's worry about getting you well before we worry about… that, shall we?"

The door behind him slid open and Jacob struggled to see who was making their way in.

"He needs to rest," Hank greeted the person and finally shifted enough for Jacob to see Gina Zanetakos.

"How is he?"

"Confused, just like you said," the doctor murmured very softly, but not so much that Jacob couldn't make the words out.

"I'm right here," he grumbled and Gina's gaze snapped to meet his.

"What happened?" Her tone was strange. Cautious. Like she was waiting for him to take the lead so she knew which direction to lean.

"I don't know."

"You said you lost time."

"Yeah."

"How much?"

"I don't know."

"There's a lot you don't know."

"Gina," Hank snapped softly and turned his attention back to Jacob. "What year is it?"

A memory flashed through the fog. "The doctors that were holding me kept asking me the same thing."

Gina crossed her arms across her chest, impatience written in every line of her pretty features. "Did you give them an answer or jerk them around too?"

"'08," Jacob growled, matching her level of irritation, but just like that hers vanished and was replaced with surprise.

"2008?"

"No. Nineteen. Of course two-thousand."

"Jacob, look at me," Hank instructed, but as Jacob did he didn't like the older man's expression. "It's 2017. December."

Even with the firm mattress of the bed beneath him, Jacob felt his world shift. "What?"

"Two-thousand-seventeen," Gina stressed. Hank shot her a warning look.

"No. No… that's not…"

"It's alright," Hank promised, his voice soothing. "We did a pretty thorough exam when you came in, but we'll get to the bottom of this." He reached over to one of the many machines off to the side and Jacob heard a familiar woosh. Great. He'd made it out, made it back to St Regis, but nothing had changed. No answers and medication. Apparently that was everyone's answer to everything, he thought bitterly as he slipped under again.

--------

"You said there was no sign of head trauma," Gina growled as she blew through the door to her office. McCready's old office. The one she'd taken over after she'd put a bullet in his chest to save Jacob's life. Thankless bastard.

"We're still running tests," Rogers said, his tone holding a calculated level of patience. "Right now he needs rest. If he's staying, that is."

Gina turned and shot him an irritated look. "Find out what happened, how much time he's lost, and if he'll get it back." There was a stretch of silence and she could practically feel the disapproval rolling off of him even if the doctor kept his expression even. He would have made a fair operative if that had been the path he had chosen. He was also one of the only people left on the St Regis campus that survived her restructuring after she had taken McCready's place. He had earned it and he'd proven loyal, but he'd always been much more loyal to the individual operatives in his care than the institute on whole. "What?"

"May I speak freely?"

"Won't you anyway?"

A soft sound might have been a chuckle if not for the frown that had finally broken through. "I see what you're thinking."

"Do you now?"

"And I know how close you two were. I'm sure you've missed him -" she snorted at the statement and he shot her a pointed look - "even if you won't admit it. But Jacob made his choice, even if you and I are the only ones left here that remember it."

"A choice The Major put a price on his head for. Are you suggesting I finish it?"

"I'm suggesting you get word to his wife."

"She's a fed."

"She's his wife. Not a mark, not a job. A woman that, of all people, Jacob Phelps broke ranks for. She must be special."

Gina's gaze swept over him, taking every inch of his expression in. He was good. Careful. He didn't push on things unless he felt it down to his soul. On most days she found a strange sort of respect in that. Not today.

She leaned in, her words enunciated as she spoke. "I don't care."

"And if he remembers?"

"Find out if he will."

"And if he doesn't, what? You'll just keep him here?"

She shrugged, idly picking up a paperweight from her desk. "If he doesn't, he'll make us a lot of money just like he did before."

--------

Glen Carter was one of the more obnoxious individuals that Red had ever come across. The man riled him up for sport, jerking him around with his pathological lies and wild excuses, but in the end he was still the most talented tracker that Reddington knew.

He had uncovered footage of a man that had parked a block down from the building that Red had been using to keep the Keens safely hidden away. The man had gotten out and moved out of the camera's line of sight, but when he returned he was supporting a familiar figure all the way to the passenger's side.

The camera had only caught one usable angle of their mystery man, Glen had argued, and that's why it had taken time. Even so, nearly two weeks after Tom had managed his messy escape - and Reddington had moved Elizabeth, not willing to risk underestimating him again - Glen had found the location of the man that had picked him up. Not Tom himself, but it was a start.

Brimley was sitting in a chair outside of a closed door when Reddington arrived, breathing deeply from his oxygen tank, and his focus on the task was absolute.

"Has he given you a location yet?"

Brimley took one more long breath before removing the mask from his nose and mouth. "Took some work, but training only takes ya so far. Hit just the right nerve and he sang like my Aunt Myrtle's yellow canary."

"And?" Red pressed, an uncomfortable feeling tightening his chest at the look he received.

"He's ready for you. Switch is on the right."

Reddington gave him a brief, terse nod before moving into the room. It was quiet inside - eerily so - and pitch black so that the light from outside the door flooded in like a tidal wave, leaving the hunched figure in the corner curling in on himself a little more. Reddington reached over without looking, and even he had to wince as the lights snapped on at top voltage.

Their man - Eric Sneider seemed to be the final consensus, though the man appeared to have his pick of names he chose from on a regular basis - yelped at the sudden illumination. It was a wonder. Teddy had had him five hours at the most. How he did it, Red would never know.

Nor did he care right then.

He moved towards the trembling man, his steps slow and deliberate, and he made sure that the legs of the metal chair scraped loudly across the concrete floor as he pulled it towards him and took a seat. "Mr Sneider. Do you know who I am?"

The man finally uncurled just a little from his ball of fear to turn wide, red-rimmed eyes on him. His jaw dropped a little. "You're Raymond Reddington," he managed, a sense of awe in his tone.

"Yes."

"What do you want with me?"

"Tom Keen."

"I… I don't know who that is."

Red tilted his head to the side, considering. No. He wouldn't, would he. "Jacob Phelps then."

Sneider flinched back. "I don't—"

"I would think long and hard before lying to me, Mr Sneider."

"I can't. She'll kill me if I talk. "

"And I'll kill you if you don't, though I'd say I pose the more immediate threat," Red said as he pulled his gun from the holster and placed it on his knee.

"He… called in an extraction."

"Who did he contact? Who sent you?"

"St Regis." The confession was small, whispered and trembling. Reddington sat for a long moment. It made sense. Tom had asked for a phone and wanted to contact the Major several times after the failed memory procedure. And why wouldn't he? His mind was trapped back in 2008. A time long before he'd left the organization. Long before he'd considered it an option.

"That's it. I swear," Sneider half sobbed and Reddington turned his nose up.

"You're going to put me in touch with the person that gave you the order to come for him."

He held the other man's gaze for a long moment before he received a slow nod of confirmation.

--------

He was going stir crazy. After being drugged into a stupor and held hostage only to break out and make his way back, Hank had all but locked him in the medical ward and demanded bed rest. Jacob had complied, grumbling the whole way, and he certainly would never admit to feeling better for it. The pain had lessened, his strength was coming back in spurts, and even the knife wound in his side that he'd managed to reopen in his escape was finally starting to show real signs of healing. It was slow going - much slower than he was accustomed to - but Hank had reminded him that the body at thirty-three didn't bounce back quite as quickly as one did at twenty-three. Even if he didn't remember getting to those limits, he'd have to respect them if he was going to make a full recovery.

They still didn't know why he was missing time. Hank had put him through a gauntlet of tests and no head trauma was evident. The stab wounds and gunshot to the shoulder seemed to be the worst of it, but hardly explained anything. What was worse, Hank seemed hesitant to give him any details about what he was missing. Jobs taken, injuries dealt out. Jacob has scars from injuries he couldn't remember, and each time he tried to ask the old surgeon about it Hank sidestepped the answer.

That led him to where he was.

Bud's office door stood large and imposing. Operatives didn't just invite themselves over to it, or at least normal operatives. Jacob has never been normal and he'd never been good at waiting for answers. He wrapped his knuckles against the door hard.

There was a stretch of silence before shuffling and finally the door was opened by an irritated Gina from the other side. She stared at him, surprised, and Jacob was pretty sure he had at least one answer. "He's dead, isn't he?"

"What are you doing here? Rogers said you should—"

"Rest. Yeah. Been doing alot of that. You gonna let me in or leave me hanging in the hallway?"

Gina's lips twitched down but she stepped back, clearing the way for him to enter. The room was different. Same desk - damn thing was so large that it might have been more trouble than it was worth to move - but other than that there was nothing left of Bud. From the books to the type of liquor set up on the shelf. He'd been gone a while.

"How long?"

She knew what he was asking. "Best anyone can guess, a couple years."

"How?"

Gina shrugged, turning back to her desk and the files that were piled there. "We don't know. The body has never been found. I went with him for an op he wanted to oversee himself, but he never showed at the rendezvous. There was nothing after that."

"Bud wouldn't have gone down without a fight."

"One he must have lost. It was bound to happen. He had several close calls towards the end. Reddington, the Germans…" She was watching him now, almost like she expected it to jog a memory. Jacob has nothing and she turned back to her paperwork. "Bastard left me to clean everything up."

"Why didn't I help?"

"You do. You will. You've always belonged in the field."

"So do you."

"I've done alright here." She paused, that honey brown gaze sweeping him up and down. "Sit."

"That obvious?" Jacob chuckled, sliding into one of the plusher seats in the room. The walk over to her office had tired him out more than he cared to admit. "I need some answers, Gina."

"I don't know what happened to your memories."

"But you know what job I was working. Maybe if I could retrace my steps I could—"

"Why?"

Jacob blinked hard. "Because I've lost ten years."

"And you may never get them back. Best we can hope for is to get you back to work - back to normal - and who knows? Maybe something will click back into place."

There was something in her tone, in the way she brushed it off. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Gina had always barreled ahead. She preferred it to looking back and it was one of the reasons they'd worked so well together for so many years, but it was all those years that he'd known her that made him think something was off.

She stood, drawing his attention, and he knew the look she was wearing. That little half smile and the way she held his gaze. She leaned down, hands on either armrest so that she pinned him into his spot in the chair, and she pressed her lips against his. Like her words, there was something strange about the kiss, but his need to feel something that was familiar won out and he reached up to pull her in deeper. He felt her smile into the kiss, settling down into his lap with one arm shaking behind him.

A loud, sharp ringtone shattered the moment and she let out a frustrated growl as she stood back to her feet. "I have to get that. There's an op in Hong Kong that we need to go well."

"You owe me some stories," Jacob said, his voice rough.

"As soon as I finish with this."

It was a dismissal if he had ever heard one, but as Jacob eased himself out of the chair and towards the door, he focused on the fact that he'd received at least one answer. The others would come… or they wouldn't. At least he'd made it home.

--------

The phone rang again and again, leaving Reddington to shoot his terrified hostage an exasperated look. If he'd been foolish enough to give him the wrong number, no one would be happy by the end of this.

Then it connected, but no one said a word. Well, she had learned her craft from Bill McCready, and the man had always been a fan of having more information than he gave away. Ah well. Reddington had found confidence often made up for what he lacked in concrete information.

"Gina. Raymond Reddington. I hear you found someone I'm looking for."

There was another bout of silence before a snort that might have been a laugh. "So that's where Sneider went."

"It is."

He could almost hear her lean back against some oversized desk and do everything she could to show a man that couldn't see her just how unruffled she really was. "What do you want?"

"A truce."

"I'm not at war with you."

"No, but your former employer was deeply in my debt. So often when a parent dies the children are saddled with all the promises that they couldn't fulfill."

"I'm doing just fine."

"So I hear. Old and new ops alike flourishing and intel coming in from all over the world, I'd imagine, but you and I both know that you will makethe operative of your choosing if I hire them."

"And in return you want Jacob?" she chuckled. "The highest earning operative that this organization has ever had… for what? One job? Anyone can see it's a bad business deal."

Red felt the small muscles in his cheek twitch with irritation. "You may try to make this about the money, Gina, but we are both well aware that it's not. It's the same reason that you took the fall for him in the Angel Station assassination, the same reason you hired him on when he came running to you after Bill put out a burn notice, and the same reason you put a bullet in McCready just a few weeks later: you can't let him go."

"He came back."

"Because he can't remember what he has here."

"And you think you can fix that? Give your pet fed her precious Tom Keen back?"

"I have the resources. The connections to give him a chance. If you truly care for him, Gina, you'll give me the chance to try."

There was a long, tense moment before: "He's made his choice."

And that was it. The line went dead and Reddington was left holding the phone, the truth oppressively heavy in the air around him. Tom was gone. Even with all of his resources, he needed Gina's help now that the younger man was hidden behind St Regis' wall of protection and she had made it clear that he wouldn't get that help.

"What are you going to tell Elizabeth when she wakes up?" Dembe asked softly from behind as Reddington snapped the flip phone shut with more force than was warranted.

"The truth," he breathed after a moment. "Her husband is dead."

--------

TBC

Notes: And so it's set. We're about to jump ahead to present day (aka, just after the S7 finale) in the next chapter and things are about to start ramping up. I hope you guys are still enjoying the story. Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know :D

Next Time: An op pits Jacob against an old enemy, but when a client will only take the best, Gina volunteers him for the job.

#the blacklist #blacklist fanfiction #Tom Keen #Raymond Reddington #Dembe Zuma #Gina Zanetakos

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xrikix · 5 years ago

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» Hiraeth Chapter 7 || Haikyuu AU

❝They will learn how to fly.❞ – an AU where the kids of Haikyuu characters grow their passion for volleyball and face their problems.

Starring our OC’s Hoshi, Minami, and Leo! (don’t worry they’re as fluffy as our babies from Haikyuu but sprinkle in more angst)

Read Chapter 6 Here!

Realization

Weeks passed with the days feeling blended together. Leo purposefully shoved himself towards his studies and slightly avoided his family, especially Minami. He cursed at himself. He knows he was being stupid and childish, but his fears got the better of him, locking away his rationality. Days continued into weeks as he watched Minami at home, ecstatic about practice with how much fun they were having in the court, and all the new things they were teaching her. Their parents would always eagerly listen to every word she spoke with delight on their faces. The jealousy ate away at him, feeding the envy which grew each passing day. His rationality fought on, deciding to work even harder at practice, to prove to the team, to his family, and especially to himself, that he could do it, that he can succeed at being a setter-- but things are easier said than done.

Halfway through April, at the end of practice, Coach Ukai called over the team, “At the end of the week, we’re gonna have a practice game with Aoba Johsai so be ready.” Leo’s ears perked up when he heard Aoba Johsai, his mind instantly flashing to Hoshi.

Ever since school started, their days together lessened and seeing each other became less frequent. Exhilaration coursed through him until it stopped abruptly when he realized what it meant. He wasn’t a starter, meaning he won’t be able to play against Hoshi. He grit his teeth, his eyes closing. They promised to see each other on the court and it was so early in the school year, he was already breaking it. His eyes stayed closed, wanting to throw his feelings aside. Leo knew Hoshi would understand, but it only further stroked the fire within him.

He needed to prove himself or else he didn’t deserve to be on the court.

The rest of the week passed, when he told his family that he was going to do practice games against Hoshi. And of course, they got competitive. Although Minami was quiet in the beginning, he could see the sparks of interest in her eyes. “You better win,” she spoke after collecting her thoughts.

Leo shrugged, “It’s just a practice game, and besides I’m probably not gonna play in it…”

Minami rolled her eyes, “‘It’s a practice game, it doesn’t matter who wins or loses…’ well it kinda does, but whatever.” She threw her arms around his shoulders, “I’m sure Coach Ukai will let you play, you know how he is.” Leo nonchalantly nodded his head, not quite processing her words. “Did Hoshi message you?” she asked, looking at him.

“Yeah but it was mostly just him being super excited,” he sighed, “I didn’t have the heart to tell him.”

Minami smacked him, “What happened to my goofy twin, stay hopeful,” she said, her lips breaking into a grin. Leo shrunk back further, pulling himself away from her arms, ignoring the smile that dropped from her face.

The team didn’t have to wait long before Aoba Johsai entered the gym. Leo was standing next to Dino and Katsuki, the latter puffing himself up to look bigger to which Dino shoved his elbow at Katsuki. Leo consciously kept his eyes away from the team, instead focusing his attention to the court. He had to return his eyes back when he watched Coach Ukai shake hands with Coach Mizoguchi, who took over when the former, Coach Irihata, decided to retire. He didn’t want to look for Hoshi, but his eyes couldn’t help but wander and soon they fell upon him. Hoshi returned his gaze with a grin and a thumbs up to which Hoshi sent him a small smile which soon dropped. Hoshi’s smile fell when he saw Leo immediately looking away, adjusting his glasses. He didn’t think it would hurt seeing Hoshi in Aoba Johsai’s tracksuit but it stung, is this what Minami felt? But his heart ached more when he saw how well Hoshi was doing on their team, compared to his pitiful state. His hands clenched, as the words of Coach Ukai flooded over him, trying to anchor him down from his agitated thoughts. There are benefits to not being a starter, he just had to force himself to remember.

He was watching from the sidelines with Katsuki who gleefully cheered on his cousin and their team. Katsuki hollered encouraging words to which Dino would look away and only pushed Hikaru and Kise to become louder and louder, their yells ringing out through the gym. Leo focused on the game ignoring the glances Hoshi sent to him from the court. Once and while, Hoshi would twist his head towards Leo, looking at him expectantly for answers, but Leo would only look away.

Katsuki nudged him with his elbow, “Wasn't that guy at your dad's party?”

Leo nodded, “Yeah, we’re neighbors.”

Katsuki’s face crossed into amazement, “Damn, this must suck.” Leo didn’t respond but continued to watch the game.

Coach Ukai called for a time out and Katsuki proceeded to run over to Dino, his excitement radiating off of him. Leo continued to stand against the wall as he focused on the court. He could hear someone walking up to him but didn’t bother to look at who it was.

“Hey Leo,” Hoshi said, his voice rather soft, not sure what to say.

Leo glanced at him, seeing how he was drinking water and wiping sweat off of his brows. “Hey,” he faintly responded. They were silent before Leo’s mouth opened, his mind already blanking. The words he didn't want to say tumbled out. “Do you hate me?”

Hoshi, surprised, quickly turned to face Leo. “Hate you?”

“Yeah.”

“Why would I hate you?”

Leo’s mind raced to come up with an answer. Shaking his head, he responded, “It’s nothing.”

He could feel Hoshi’s eyes studying him, making Leo cower into his own body even more.

His arms clenched his sides, shrinking himself, as he heard Hoshi speak, “Is something wrong Leo?”

He vigorously shook his head, “No, why would something be wrong?” He smiled for the added effect, “Everything is fine.”

“But you don’t seem-”

“Back to the court boys!” Coach Ukai yelled.

Hoshi turned his head towards the team, “I need to get going…”

“Yeah…”

“I’ll see you later?”

“Sure.” The words flowed throughout his head, he didn’t mean to be so indifferent towards Hoshi, a part of him regretted it but seeing how everyone was pushing forward towards their goal while he lagged behind made the anxiety grow within him, lashing out every chance that it could get.

Katsuki grimaced as Dino tried to block Hoshi’s spike but failed, the ball colliding with the floor with a loud thump. Leo glanced at the scoreboard and saw how badly they lost their first game, 18-25. He could hear Hisaki cursing as Ryu merely patted his back, saying it was not his fault. Dino stood there silent, while Hikaru and Kise kept grumbling their complaints, the two on the floor. Hoshi’s team cheered, their ecstasy towards their win clashing against the low morale of Karasuno.

“Another game?” Coach Mizoguchi asked, smirking.

Coach Ukai gritted his teeth, “Of course.” The sun began to dip, its warm rays shining through the windows as Leo watched Coach figure out what to do.

Hoshi walked up to him, “So what did you think?”

“Of what?”

“The game.”

Leo sighed, “Well you won.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You guys are better.” Hoshi shook his head, exasperated, “I say both teams are pretty good but, “ he glanced towards Hisaki who was still seething, “Your setter is predictable.”

Leo’s ears perked up from Hoshi’s words, “What?”

Hoshi shrugged, “I don’t know. I mean I could tell he played a lot longer but they’re textbook plays, everyone does it.”

Leo couldn’t respond, not sure how to. He didn��t know if he necessarily agreed with Hoshi’s words, but when watching the game unfold could see what he meant by ‘predictable.’ His plays seemed biased towards the older players, utilizing Ayama and Ryu more, despite Dino or Hikaru being a better choice in the situation. Leo sighed, it wasn’t his place to judge even though Hoshi’s words made him giddy. The coaches called for the 2nd round to begin, Hoshi already beginning to run towards his position. Leo looked on but saw Coach calling for him. Confused, he stood besides Hisaki who scoffed, his arms crossed.

Coach Ukai stared at the two, “We’re gonna try something different this time. Leo you’re gonna be subbed in.”

“What?” Hisaki said, his voice raised, “I don’t-”

Coach raised his hands, “We’re just trying something different. I want to see how it goes with Leo.” Hisaki grumbled, looking away but Leo’s eyes began to spark. He was going to finally play and see how well his training helped. Maybe this would stop his negative thoughts, if he saw where he was now, with the countless hours of practice.

He ran onto the court, feeling everyone’s surprised eyes tracking him, the hushed whispers of Aoba Johsai and their confusion. Hoshi smiled at him from across the net, raising his hands beneath the net, Leo clasped it. “I look forward to a good game,”

Hoshi said. “We’ll see,” Leo replied, standing next to Dino.

He turned to the team, “Do you guys know how to do a synchronized attack?”

Ryu and Ayama looked surprised, “Well yeah, Coach taught us last year but we haven’t really used it,” Ryu said sheepishly.

Dino nodded, “Dad taught me so I’ll just follow along.”

Leo nodded, “Well we should try. I’ll flash the peace sign when it's time.” The team looked at each other but smiled, nodding their agreement.

“Let’s give 'em hell!” Hikaru yelled. Leo was pumped, his heart was beating ecstatically and he could feel the adrenaline coursing through his body, his fingers aching to touch the ball.

Although he could feel the dark thoughts swirling around in his head, they felt lighter. All he had to do was win, showing himself that these feelings weren’t worth the pain and suffering.

All he needed to do was take flight.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyū!!#haikyuu AU #haikyuu fanfic #coach ukai #Karasuno #aoba jōsai #Anime OC #anime au #anime #fanfic

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ohgoddard · 5 years ago

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Fist of Fire.2.17

The hot arid air of the Mojave Desert bore itself in the lungs of two men standing outside Clint’s Bar. It was an average biker joint, looking like a saloon of old stuck on the side of a highway going to a much more desirable place. The two men, some run of the mill looking bikers surveyed the horizon of the cracked and dried rock and piles of sand and saw nothing. The most activity they saw was a tumbleweed roll gently by them, carried by a wind that only brought more heat with it. Although the parking lot outside Clint’s was full, there were no noises coming from within the bar, but to these men that was normal. One of them took out a cigarette and lit it with his hands, coughing as the smoke filled his lungs. He then got a message on his phone, and looked. In almost synchronous nature, both men walked into the doors of Clint’s Bar and locked them in their wake.

All of this was seen and heard by a woman miles away, lying prone. She covered herself in dirt and desert weeds and held in her hands a pair of binoculars. Her blonde hair,colored to match the desert soil, was tied behind her in a practical braid. Her face, a light tan covered in more soil, was tucked under a hat with a shrub placed over it. For all intents and purposes this woman was hidden to any who looked in this direction, or even looked closely. She slowly shimmied herself back from the edge and took cover behind the backside of the hill she was spying over. Her hand reaches for a notepad on her belt, and she scribbles into it. After putting it away, she takes out a device. It has just one button on it, and begins tapping it in a series of dots and dashes. After this, she packs up, and begins hiking into the desert.

In the city of Cincinnati, there was a bank robbery going on. Terrified people ducked under cover as four giants ran down the street, chased by police cars. The crowded city streets were full of chaos, as these four giants were destroying parts of whole buildings and crushing cars. In the hands of each they carried bank vaults, the entire thing. They laughed uncontrollably, as when the police fired from their weapons they did nothing to pierce the skin of the giants. One of them, the presumed leader of the pack, turned towards another and yelled, “We’re gonna get away with this! No one can stop us!” Then, as his head was turned, a firetruck flew into his head. The giant did a full backflip then hit the road like a sack of bricks. The vault falling with a loud thud, and property damage, besides him. The other giants stop and look at their fallen leader with an expression of shock overtaking them, that is until one of horror comes. In front of them, floating several feet in the air to reach their eye level, was a muscular man dressed in blue jeans, a shirt that had a greek letter familiar to all, and a helmet that covered his head in its entirety. The helmet looked like that of a Trojan Warrior, with long accented faceplates and a netting underneath it to hide his facial features. The man had his arms crossed above his chest, and a booming voice came from his mask that was heard for blocks around.

“I don’t know how you thought no one could stop you. Don’t you read the news?”

At that the man moves at sonic speeds and spearheads another giant in the stomach, sending it flying back several blocks and into a large stone building, now unconscious. The other two giants drop their vaults and run, trying to flee, but are stopped when a dash of black and blue wake circles around their legs and they fall. Their heavy bodies hit the ground and, before a heavy punch is delivered to their heads, they see electrical lines had been wrapped around their legs.

Standing victorious over the giants bodies, crowds begin to cheer as they send accolades to the hero. Reporters run up to him, microphones ready and cameras rolling. “How did you know they were going to be here?””Is there anyway you could have caused less destruction?””Do you have any words for the people at home?””Will you attend the Colored Heroes Rights conference in July, as the most famous hero of color?” The man just stood there and said various nothings into the cameras, his voice quieter than when addressing the giants. “Damages are expected, I was just in the neighborhood, and of course I'm showing up to that! I’d be dumb not to.” He steps away from the crowds and picks up the giants by the wires holding them, rising into the air. “And for the people at home,’ he says turning his head towards the camera once more,”Stop committing crimes. I want to go home one day!” With that he became a blur and the giants were gone from the city.

A couple hours later, after the giants were delivered to the Ohio Powered Incarceration Center and the vaults given back to their banks, the man found himself sitting alone under a shady tree in the countryside. After looking around with a vision that extended for miles, he takes off his helmet. A short cut but neatly trimmed black beard and bald head greet the cool air with gratitude as he takes a deep breath. “Another day, another lock up.” He reaches into his back pocket and takes out his phone, and starts to go through his missed emails and whatnot, when he notices a notification from an app he usually never checks. Which meant…

He opens it up and examines the contents. They read: TRACKED-ETEAM-2-NV-STOP. ETEAM-IS-ALIVE-STOP. MORE-INFO-LTR-STOP. HEG.

He lowers his phone and sighs a breath of stress and anger. “You damned cockroach.” He stands up and grabs his helmet, and angrily puts it on. “No one does all this and keeps living.”

He then gets a call on his phone and answers. “Omegaman,” the voice says over the phone,”You’re needed in Detroit, danger rating 78%. Gravity monster.” Omegaman sighs and replies. “On my way.” As he lowers his phone from his head, he looks to the skies.”I’ll get to you later, Emesh.” With that, he soars into the clouds.

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

“Oh my God mom, it's not that big a deal!” Jade sat in her living room while her mom played with her hair and sprayed something here, pinned something there, readjusted this and so on. “It is so! This is your first date in..” Jade’s mom paused, holding a can of hairspray away from her daughter. “Well, ever!” She resumed her pampering ,with Jade spitting as the spray got into her mouth. She was dressed in a white and red dress, and it was a stunning one. It had an open back and the red spiraled up the whole body while the white sparkled in the light.

“It's just a dance, mom. It's nothing big!” As Jade spoke this, Joseph rolled himself in from the spare room he was staying in, a large purse laying across his lap. “Au contraire, Jade. This is the AHA’s summer gala. It happens once a year and you have never gone to one and with your senior year coming up it will be your last one as well! You must go. And, you even got a date so that makes it all the better!” He places the purse at the side of the chair Jade is being forcibly fancied up in and retreats a safe distance from the cloud of product in the air. “Oh come on not you too!” Jade screams in mock pain as eyeliner is drawn over her face. “I don’t like makeup and -ack- Riley and I aren’t, like, official yet or anything so -” the spraying stops. Jade looks around and sees the very confused faces of the two adults. Joseph’s is far more confused that her mother’s, who is more disappointed than anything.

“Really? You guys haven't officially asked each other out yet?” Joseph was the first to speak, and it was filled with incredulous emotion. The fact that he was out and about as he was in the first place is a miracle, as his doctor had prescribed him several more days of bedrest(“I'm always sitting down, that counts, right?”). His voice has improved, and is sounding much like his old one. It was because of this that Jade was the most taken back by his comment. “Why do you care so much? Isn’t shipping your students against the law or something?” Joseph gave a look of fake shock. “How could you! And no, it isn’t.” Jade’s mom speaks to her next, “Why haven’t you asked her yet, sweetheart?” Jade blushed and looked away from her mom, who began to apply more of the makeup she was carrying. “I dunno..just kind of hasn’t come up. There has been a bit that’s been going on.” Joseph coughed. “Oops.” Jade shot him a dirty look and he looked away, pulling at his collar in a joking fashion. “I’ll..I’ll ask her tonight. She said she’d meet me there anyways.” Her mom beamed when she heard this. “You know Jade, not too long ago you were a hot headed troublemaker who always got into the trouble,” Joseph interrupted with a “still is” and suffered a hit from Mrs.Laurens, “but this Riley girl has really done a lot of good for you. The least you can do is properly ask her out.”

Jade took a deep breath, “Yeah, you're right mom. That reminds me, “ she looks towards the clock on her mom’s oven. “It's almost time for me to go. Who’s gonna take me to the school.”

Joseph rolls over to the door, “I will. My car is outside.” Jade begins to get up, grabbing her bags, before stopping. “Wait a second.” Joseph gives great bellowing laughs, holding onto his wheelchair for support. Jade gives a harumph, obviously not happy to be the butt of the joke.

“Oh Jade, don't be like that,” her mom said, stifling a laugh herself,”he will actually be taking you there though.”

Jade looked at her mom, her turn to give an incredulous look. “How?” Joseph smacked his wheelchair. “We’re gonna take the train. Remember, the school has a lien that goes straight to it.”

Joseph opens the door and rolls out, looking back. “Coming?” Jade could not believe this was happening.

A few dozen minutes and a train ride later where everyone looked at Joseph more than her(which brought a great deal of relief, but a twinge of jealousy too) they arrived at the school station. Joseph got off, gave the finger to multiple people who asked about his accident, and Jade soon followed. “The nerve of some people,” she heard him mutter under his breath. He turned to Jade. “Now, go over what we talked about on the train.” Jade rolled her eyes. “Walk up to her, hand on her shoulder, ask her in my ‘manliest voice’ to go out with me. I just don’t think-” Joseph shhsh her. “Don’t think. It only makes things worse.” She gives a laugh, a nervous one, but still a laugh. A small smile appears on her face. “Thank you, Mr.Ellington.” She leans in and gives him a hug. “Now,” Joseph says after the hug is done, “I have to go to the teachers area to get ready for my round of chaperoning. I’ll see you in a bit. After the dance, wait for me here. I don’t want you walking the streets without me.” “I’ve done it tons of times what-” “Just wait for me. You’re a pretty teenage girl walking alone in a shit part of town. Different creatures come out at night.” She rolls her eyes. “Ok, whatever dad.” Joseph smiles and rolls off. “Have a good dance!”

A few seconds after he enters an elevator to take him to the school, Jade realizes what she said.Dad? She would have to think more about that later..some conflicting feelings have been affecting her recently. Thankfully, a good distraction just came off the next train.

“Well, hell-o beautiful.” Jade turned to see Riley step off in a spiff tuxedo, one that hugged her body. It's just about made Jade faint then and there. “Hh-hey! You ready?” Jade nervously stammered out. Riley walked up, took Jade’s hand, and kissed it like a prince. “With you? Always.” Jade’s plans went out the window.

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