#yeah ill be gone in like the middle of the woods for the next 2 days

[mizzyislost]

some fun game night shenanigans, with my slightly tweaked anthro designs!

original image for the middle two drawings!

and i feel like we’ve definitely all already seen that old “””draw the squad board game base””” or whatever, but here it is anyways for convenience!

[imagines4thefandoms]

Eternity Pt 2 (Kol Mikaelson X reader)

Requested: yes from Wattpad

This will no be accurate according to the show so bare with me.

Y/n’s POV

“Kol” you whispered.

You quickly looked over your shoulder but the only person there was your best friend (bff/n). She gave you small smile and then went back to taking notes. You could have sworn that you felt something. The entire class you just stared blankly at the powerpoint. You didn’t even notice the class was over til (bff/n) shoved you a little as she was leaving the classroom.

“Y/n are you ok” Bf/n asked.

“What,” you asked coming back to reality.  “Yeah” you answered grabbing you bag and running out of the room.

“Your crazy y/n. Just go for a walk to clear your head,” you told yourself.

The plan was to walk around campus until your next class. The scenery was going to calm you down, just link it did after your turned. But you didn’t really focus on the scenery.

Flashback

You woke up and everything hurt. Your head. Your teeth. Your eyes. But weirdly enough not your stomach or legs or face. Not where that man hurt you. You opened your eye but the light was way too bright.

“Its ok,” a strange voice said.

The light became less annoying and you took in your surroundings. But it wasn’t a hospital. You quickly sat up of tried to make yourself small. There were two men in the room with you.

“Please im sorry. I won’t run,” you pleaded with those men.

“Hey your safe. I promise that man will never hurt you again,” the man in a suit said.

“Technically no one will now,” the other one said.

There was this pain in your stomach. It was like hunger but much worse. There was a bag on the table next to the bed you woke up on and it smelled amazing. The younger of the two men grabbed the bag and sat on the bed.

“Drink this and you will feel better,” he said holding out the bag.

The urge to take it was strong but you were weary of the men. You turned your head away and just hoped the hunger would go away like it has before. The other placed his hand on the younger and they both left the room.

“She needs to feed,” you heard the younger say.

“That young girl just went through something horrific Kol. Give her time,” the older man say.

“Elijah, and if she doesn’t are we supposed to let her die,” the younger man now known as Kol asked.

“She might not want to become one of use. It's her choice. One that neither of us will make for her,” Elijah responded as he walked away.

Everything hurt. But this pain was worse than you ever felt. This pain couldn’t be pushed down and ignored. Something in you knew that whatever was in that bag would make the pain go away. You went to grab it off the nightstand but it wasn’t there. Kol must have taken it. Maybe that was best. right. If I drank that I would become one of them according to Elijah but what were they? British?

You curled into a ball and just cried. This pain has to go away right. Kol said I could die. Would that be a good thing. Or should I drink whatever is in that bag. What's so bad about becoming British? There was this loud tapping on wood. You shot up and looked around the room but saw nothing. The tapping continued. You got out of bed and saw nothing but a lone ant in the far corner. Yep you were going crazy. You were walking back to the bed when there was a thunderous knock on the door. Your tried to cover your ears to lessen the sound but it didn’t work. Kol walked in.

“What's wrong with me. What did you do,” you asked backing into the corner and curling into a ball.

“Shh you are okay,” Kol said stepping towards you.

“No stay away. You said I'm going to die.”

“Only if you don’t drink this,” Kol replied hold out the bag.

“What if I don’t want to be British. Huh. You ever think of that,” yelled.

“What,” Kol laughed.

“I heard what the other man said. If I drink that i'll become like you.”

“A vampire darling. You will become a vampire. Not British and were are not British. Technically we are Norwegian,” kol replied with a small smile.

“There is no such thing as vampires.”

“You teeth hurt,  and your eyes and head. Everything it too bright and too loud. You’re hungry. Hungrier than you have ever been,” kol stated.

“How…,”

“You are transitioning between vampire and human. You don’t have to turn if you don’t want to. But you died back on the farm. That man shot you. If you don’t drink this you will die,”

“Im dead?”

“Undead technically.”

You looked at Kol like he was crazy. A Vampire is one thing but you’re not dead. You would remember dying right. Kol took another step forward and you noticed his face change. His eyes got all veiny and his teeth got pointy.

“Holy shit,” you exclaimed standing up. “How.”

“My mother turned us after my younger brother died,”

“And how am I…,”

“My brother and I found you. You were seriously hurt so my brother fed you his blood to heal you. I killed the man who hurt you but he shot you. You died with vampire blood in your system so now you’re becoming a vampire,” Kol explained.

“Will it hurt,”

“No. Your pain will stop and you will be strong and faster and no one will hurt you again,” he explained stepping closer. “Drink this and you will be a vampire.

“Kol enough,” Elijah said walking into the room. “This is her choice.”

“If it will take my pain away i’ll drink blood. So what’s in that bag,” you asked stepping towards the brother.

“Human blood,” Elijah responded.

“Ew what,” you exclaimed taking a small step back.

“Drinking human blood with complete the transformation,” kol explained.

“But it smells so good,” you said with a gross expression.

Kol laughed a little and looked over at Elijah. “Are you sure you want this,” Elijah asked.

“I think so. Nothing can hurt me besides, wooden stake, holy water, a cross, the sun and garlic. No garlic bread will suck. Wait I don’t want to hurt people.”

“Holy water, a cross and garlic are all myth. The sun won’t be a problem with a daylight ring and you don’t have to hurt people if you don’t want to,” Elijah explained.

“Ok, I think I want this,” you said stepping forward and taking the blood from Kol.

You ripped the bag open and took a small sip. You expected it to taste awful but it was the most delicious thing you ever consumed. After drinking the whole bag you returned the bag to Kol and wiped and blood that was on your face away. Kol was right. The pain was gone. You felt strong. You felt free. You felt safe.

You were so entranced by the memory of your transformation that you walked longer and further than you planned. A text message from your lab partner brought you back to reality and you realized that you were late to class and that you walked 5 miles.

Shit I lost track of time. -y/n

Don’t worry ill tell the teach that you are sick. I'll send you the notes after class- (random name)

Thanks sorry- y/n

End flashback

You started to walk back to your room when you saw a couple chasing each other in the park across the street. They looked happy. The guy grabbed his boyfriend and they both fell down. They laid there together and watched the clouds pass.

You hated how happy they were. You hated how they had each other when your person was gone.

Flashback

“Y/n come here,” Kol called from down stairs.

You kinda stayed with the Mikaelson’s after you turned. And they were right. You didn’t have to hurt anyone. But you kind of became a thief. Once a week Kol helps you steal from a blood bank so you don’t have to hurt a person, but only if there is lots of blood.

“What Kol,” you asked walking towards him.

Kol grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the house. You tried to plant yourself but he was older and therefore a lot stronger.

“Kol I don’t want to,” you whined trying to break free of his grasp.

“You have been inside all week, and its (fave weather) outside,” Kol explained turning to you.

“Fine,” you respond.

You go back upstairs to dress accordingly and then go out with Kol. The two of you walk around town til you guys reach the park and sit in the gazebo located in the center. Kol has become your best friend, your person. Without kol you wouldn’t be alive today and you loved him.

“Are you alright darling,” he asked sitting next to you.

“I’m perfect,” you responding watching the weather.

“Yes you are,” Kol mumbled watching you.

You got up and exited the gazebo to fully enjoy the weather. Kol sat protected watching you close your eyes, look up and spin around enjoying this beautiful day. You didn’t know kol walked over to you til his hands where on your hips causing you to stop spinning. You laughed as you fixed your hair and looking into his brown eyes. You stopped laughing when he grabbed your face. Before you could question what he was doing Kol pressed his lips against yours.

He broke the kiss and looked at you. “God you’re gorgeous.”

“I know.”

Kol laughed and then pressed his lips against yours again, but this time you wrapped your arms around him and deepened it. Something happened and the two of you fell to the ground. Laughter erupted from the both of you. Kol was on top of you and he just rested his forehead.

You pushed him off of you and the two of you just laid in the middle of the park holding hands. It was the best day ever.

End flashback

Kol’s POV

How. I’ve been dead for two months and now I was able to feel her. More importantly she could feel me. My sweet Y/n. I wanted to go follow her but there was something calling me. I don’t know what it was but I just needed to follow it. The thing calling me lead me back to my brothers. I walked into a house and saw Elijah sitting in the library reading. I explored the house and saw Klaus in his drawing room. Rebekah was with Marcel and there was a strange pregnant woman in the kitchen. I was going to try to call out to Klaus but there was something calling me upstairs. There was a door at the end of the hallway that glowed. I walked towards the door but before I could open it, someone else opening it.

“There you are. I have been looking for you,” a young brunette said.

Y/n’s POV

I reached my dorm room and I was going to take a nap. Naps solve all problems. But I needed answers. Did I really feel my Kol or am I going crazy. Maybe cursed or hexed. The only person who would know was Elijah. So I grabbed my keys and decided it was time to head to New Orleans.

Flashback

“Where are we going,” you asked Kol messing with the blind fold he placed over your eyes.

“You really don’t like surprised do you,” he asked slapping your hand.

“Well the last time I was blindfolded and taken to a surprise I died in a barn,” you responded with a deadpan tone.

You could tell by the air how much Kol did not appreciate your joke. He was never really a fan of your dark humor. You placed a hand on his knee to let him know you were ok. He grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on it.

“Your humor needs work,” he said.

“No you just need time to get it,” you responded.

“Well either way we have all of eternity.”

The car stopped and Kol quickly got out and opened your door. He removed your blindfold and a beautiful cabin stood before you. The cabin sat on a lake and was surrounded by woods. Kol grabbed your hand and brought you inside.

“Kol what is this place,” you asked running your hand over the beautiful furniture.

“I bought this place years ago as a safe haven from my family. I come here when ever Niklaus is in a shabby mood,” he said wrapping his arms around you. “I thought that my beautiful girlfriend could use a vacation.”

“So you brought me to your don’t dagger me cabin,” you asked turning your head to look at the love of your life.

“Yes I brought you to my don’t dagger me cabin,” he laughed. “And now it’s our don’t dagger me cabin.”

“How romantic,” you joked turning completely around to hold him.

The entire trip was perfect. Just you and Kol doing everything you love. But the best night there was the third night. Kol had driven into town to grab stuff to make dinner. Kol promised to make your favorite meal. While Kol was out you decided to relax by the lake and soak up the sun. You stayed there til Kol came back. He placed a kiss on your temple to let you know he was back. You got up and returned the favor. He started to walk back to the cabin so you ran and jumped on his back.

“To lazy to walk darling,” he asked holding your legs so you don’t fall.

“Yes I am babe,” you responded placing a kiss on his cheek.

He shook is head in laughter and carried you inside. Once be brought you into the kitchen he sat you down on the counter. Kol turned and stood in between your legs. Your arms were around his neck and the two of you just stayed like this staring into each others eyes.

“So what’s the plan old man,” you asked after a couple minutes.

“Dinner, desert, then sex,” he replied.

“Sounds delicious.”

You sat on the kitchen counter and just watched Kol cook (favorite meal). While he was cooking you grabbed the phone that was on the counter next to you, which so happened to be his, and turned on music. Every so often Kol would bring you a spoon to taste the food.

“Delicious,” you judged.

After twenty more minutes, Kol was done cooking. He set up the table with candles and rose petals and went to the bedroom and put on a suit. He pulled out the chair for you and you just stared at him. You looked at Kol in his suit and you in a tank top and shorts.

“Seriously babe,” you exclaimed point to the romantic scene then to your outfit.

“You look gorgeous,” he said walking over to you.

“I know i’m just underdressed,” you ran upstairs and changed into a simple (f/c) dress.

You return downstairs and give Kol a little twirl. “Better.”

He looked at your dress and then laughed at your fuzzy polka dot socks. “Stunning,” he replied grabbing your hand and bringing you to the table.

The (favorite meal) was perfect. Kol was perfect. Everything was perfect. Kol took a sip of wine then grabbed your hand. He looked a littler nervous which confused you so you gave him a little smile in hopes to calm him down.

“Y/n you are the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on and I have been alive for over a century. These moments with you have made me feel more alive than when I was actually alive,” he stated to say. “And I meant is when I said that we will be together for all eternity. But there is one thing we need to fix for our eternity to begin.”

“Fix what needs to be fixed,” you asked looking at your dress.

“Not the way you look darling. Just your name,” he said getting down on one knee.

Kol grabbed a little black box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a beautiful diamond ring. You jumped out of your chair and fell on top of Kol.

“Is that a no,” he asked jokingly.

“Shut up. Yes. Fix my name it’s awful.”

“Nothing about you is awful, besides your humor. But y/n Mikaelson has a nice ring to it,” he said moving the hair from your face.

The two of you sat up and he slid the ring on your finger. Marrying the man in front of you is a dream come true.

END FLASHBACK

You were playing with your ring which was hanging around your neck the whole ride home. Two months without your soulmate really felt like two centuries. And you knew going back home was going to bring up memories and pain but you needed answers. Why now?

As soon as you entered city limits, you saw Kol at every corner. You saw where you and kol first kissed. Where you had your first date, first fight, first make up. You passed your first apartment together.

You finally pulled up to the Mikaelson house and you just stood at the front door at the house where you met Kol. Maybe you didn’t want the answers; you went to go back to your car but stopped. Kol would tell you to be brave. So you opened the front door and walked inside.

There was some chatter coming from the library so you guessed Klaus and Elijah were fighting again. You decided to wait in the kitchen til Klaus was less “stabby” as Kol would put it. After grabbing some blood from the fridge you went to the library and lightly knocked on the door.

“Elijah I need some help,” you said slightly opening the door. “Im pretty sure I’m losing my mind or that i’m cursed.”

You walked in and saw Rebekah, Klaus, and Elijah looking at the fire place.  You could kind of see that they were staring a Devina. Elijah turned to face you and you saw him.

“Hello Darling,” Kol said walking towards you.

“Kol,” you asked taking a step forwards.

“God, you are even more gorgeous than before.”

“I know,” you cried as you ran into his arms.

He picked you up and spun you around. Kol put you down and firmly pressed his lips against yours. After taking a break for air, you turned to everyone and just smiled.

“How,” you simply asked.

“I found a spell,” Davina replied.

“Thank you D,” you thanked hugging Kol.

She gave you a small smile and you turned back to the love of your life. He was back. You were in his arms again. He looked at you with the biggest smile and then to the ring around your neck.

“I believe this is in the wrong place,” he said taking the necklace off of you.

He placed the ring back on your finger and placed a kiss on your hand.

“I also believe that there was something we needed to fix,” you replied with a smile.

[procrastinatorimagines]

Okay

Fandom: One Chicago

Series: Okay

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 (Final)

Characters: Will Halstead x Halstead!Reader x Jay Halstead, eventual Casey x Reader

Warning/s: kidnapping, assault, drugging, fire, guns

Word Count: 2,542

Request:  If you’re still taking requests can you do a jay x will x sister reader were she ends up getting kidnapped then they save her but she’s badly hurt and they freak out and worry about her when she doesn’t seem like herself please?

Summary: Reader has a comfortable life in Chicago and works a safe job at a library in town, but her life is thrown upside down when she gets kidnapped on her way home from work by people who want revenge against her brother Jay Halstead.

You didn’t really seem to fit the Halstead mould, the your oldest brother, Will, was a doctor, your other older brother, Jay, was a detective, and you, well you were a librarian. Will and Jay hadn’t always been around, Will had gone to New York for his medical degree and Jay had left to fight a war, you didn’t hold any ill will towards them for that, but someone had had to stay in Chicago to take care of your parents, especially when your mom got sick. So that fell to you, the youngest child, which was honestly fine by you, you hadn’t had any big plans for your life anyway, and you enjoyed what you did now... or at least, what you did now was safe and kept a roof over your head.

Your brothers didn’t mind that your job wasn’t heroic, they actually prefered you far away from the front lines, and you couldn’t blame them, there’d been a lot of tragedy for the Halsteads, and you didn’t plan on being the next casualty.

Well, you may not have planned to be, but whoever grabbed you and pulled you into a moving van when you were heading home from your usual week day shift clearly hadn’t gotten that memo. 

One minute everything was normal, the next everything changed.

-

Your attacker wore a mask, and he wasn’t alone, there was at least one other person in the back with you and someone was obviously driving. You tried to kick and scream but they overpowered you, securing your hands and feet. The last thing you remembered before everything went dark was an odd smelling cloth being forced over your mouth.

By the time you woke up your head was pounding and your mouth was dry, your ankles and wrists chafing against the ropes that tied you to a beam in the room you were in, where ever that was. You weren’t sure how long you’d been out, but as your eyes slowly focused in on your surroundings you noticed a small window on the opposite side of the room you were in, the night sky partially visible through a crack in the newspaper that had been used to cover it up.

This was bad, very bad, you thought, panicking as you tried to desperately to free yourself from your restraints, which actually seemed to do more harm than good. Taking a very shaky breath you tried to focus, breathing in and out of your nose slowly as you though of what Jay might do in this situation. Jay... he’d come for you, with the full force of the Intelligence Unit behind him; it was a comforting thought, and one which enabled you to steady your heart rate enough so that you could hear your own thoughts without it pounding in your ears.

You could see stairs on the otherside of the room leading up, you were definitely in a basement, but there wasn’t much down here besides a broken games table, and a washing machine and dryer that looked like they hadn’t been touched in years - somewhere abandoned maybe? a foreclosed house? God a drug den even? This place clearly didn’t have a white picket fence outside, and the thought of who might be staying here, who might be staying here, who might have taken you, had your mind racing...

The sound of a door opening snapped you out of your thoughts, jumping as someone came stomping down the stairs, phone in hand and paying you no attention. He was a heavy set man, white and maybe middle aged, and you didn’t recognise him from anywhere. His face was uncovered, which was bad, you knew enough to know that if your captures didn’t go to lengths to hide their identity, then you probably weren’t making it out alive to ID them. What you needed was time, you thought as he slid his phone back into his dirty jean pockets.

“Good,” he said, approaching you as you tried to shuffle away, your wrists and ankles burning from the strain, “you’re awake.” He pulled the gag down from your mouth so that it hung around your neck and stepped back again as another man came down the stairs. He looked considerably younger than the first man, but still in his late 20s at least, leaner and with much more hair, but the family resemblance was clear, father and son you guessed. Which meant the third guy was probably a brother, or uncle. 

“You gonna call him now that she’s awake?” The younger one asked, and you had a sinking feeling you knew who they were going to call, your cop brother.

“Yeah,” he dug a phone out of his pocket, but it wasn’t his own, it was yours. “Get her to unlock it.” He passed the phone to his son who approached you, grabbing your hair to make you look at him. 

“What’s the password?” He demanded, giving your hair a rough tug as you struggled in his grasp.

“Go to hell,” you tried, your voice audibly shaking with fear. He let go of your hair and back handed you across the face, your cheek stinging with the contact as he grabbed you again. 

“Try again,” the father said and you nodded, telling him the number combination to unlock the phone, if you were braver you might have held out, but you weren’t trained for this, you were a librarian for God’s sake.

The phone started ringing and your brother’s voice came through on the other end, “hey Y/N, I’ve been worried, you were supposed to come to Molly’s but you didn’t show, everything okay?” You opened your mouth to say something but the son shut you up, the father taking the phone from him as another man came down the stairs, gun in hand, and definitely another son.

“I’m sorry detective, but your sister can’t come to the phone right now, she’s a little tied up,” he said.

“Who the hell is this!?” Jay demanded, “where the hell is my sister!?” 

“Someone who you owe Halstead, you took my son from me, destroyed my family, and now I’m going to do the same to yours,” he said venomously and you swallowed a large lump in your throat, the pit in your stomach growing painfully large.

“If you harm a hair on her head-” Jay began but the man cut him off.

“Do you remember my son detective? You put a bullet in him! You took my Joseph from me, now I’m going to show you what that pain feels like!” He yelled, face going red with rage. The son on the stairs had come down and his father snatched the gun from his hand. “This is only a taste of the pain you put my family through detective.” He pointed the gun and fired, pain shooting through your shoulder and your entire body as you cried out.

“Y/N!” You heard Jay yell frantically, but it was drowned out by your own screams. 

“You’ll never see her again detective, just like I’ll never see my boy and my sons will never see their brother. Just remember Halstead, this is on you.” He grabbed your shoulder and squeezed the wound, making you cry out again. “Goodbye.”

“No, no!-” Jay was cut off as the man hung up, dropping the phone and smashing it beneath his heel. The gag was put back on your mouth, but it wasn’t necessary, your vision was blurring and you passed out from the pain.

-

You were beaten, bruised, bleeding, so groggy that it had taken you a few seconds to realise what had finally pulled you from your unconscious: the room was on fire. That’s right, you thought, your mind still foggy from the beating, and the smoke probably, they’d doused the room in gasoline when they’d left. 

You struggled to move, realising they hadn’t even bothered with your restraints when they left you for dead; it was too hot, you couldn’t breath, could barely think as the flames got closer to you. You tried to crawl to the stairs but you saw that they had collapsed, the wood hadn’t stood a chance once the gasoline was ignited. 

You stayed as close to the floor as you could to breath clean air, not that you could stand up if you tried. Darknessed threatened to overcome your vision as you tried to stay awake, soundlessly screaming for help. There was movement at the top of the stairs, muffled noises, and the last thing you remember before unconsciousness claimed you again was strong hands pulling you out of the flames.

-

They told you that they’d managed to work out who the perp Jay shot was, that they’d found a car that had been reported stollen by someone matching the description of one of the sons outside a gas station leaving town and caught them before they could make their getaway. But by the time they found out where you were, everything was up in flames. 51 had arrived at the scene at the same time as Intelligence, and Ruzek and Atwater had had to hold Jay back as Casey and Stella had come in to get you out. You had minor burns and smoke inhilation, they told you, three broken ribs, a broken ankle, severe bruising and laserations, a deep gash on the back of your head,  and of course, you’d been shot. 

Will had filled you in the best he could after you’d finally woken up. The bullet hadn’t gone all the way through and you’d needed emergency surgery to save your life. You’d been in and out for a few days after that, when you were awake you were so hopped up on pain medication that you couldn’t tell if you were just dreaming.

But you were fully awake now, and very much aware of the ache in every body in your body, as your brother spoke. You didn’t say much back to him, or Jay, or anyone who came and went, you just felt numb.

You’d grown up knowing all the dangers in the city, in the world, but you’d always been pretty sheltered by your brothers, and to go through what you did... you felt vulnerable, bare, like your world view had been stripped off and you were left seeing the true horrors around you.

“Y/N,” Will said, touching your arm to get your attention. You jumped and he pulled back, face stricken with emotion as he looked at his little sister, God you must have looked as bad as you felt, you thought, turning to face him to show you were at least listening. “We’re going to keep you here a couple more days for observation and then discharge you in the morning okay?” You nodded, “you can go home then, or stay with me or Jay if that’s what you want,” another nod, your eye lids getting heavy again all of a sudden. Will noticed and stood to leave, kissing you on the top of the head. “I love you Y/N, I’m so sorry- it’s going to be okay, I promise, just rest for now.” You knew he meant it, you knew he believed it, but you weren’t sure you believed it too.

-

It’d been a few weeks since the incident, your arm was still in a sling but most of the damage was fading, the external damage anyway. You’d stayed with Jay for most of the first week out before you forced yourself to go home to your apartment, but you still slept with all the lights on. You didn’t know when you were going to stop feeling this powerless, but you’d recently been starting to think that the way to get some control of your own life again was to take charge of something that you could do. You didn’t want to go back to the library, you’d spent the past week shelving books the best you could with one hand, but it felt wrong, you wanted to do something more, something to help people, like you’d been helped when you needed it.

You were meeting your brothers at Molly’s, and you’d finally made up your mind on the way over, you knew what you were going to do to take charge of your life again.

“Hey, there she is!” Jay waved to you from where he sat at the bar and patted a seat next to him, “Will’s just chatting to Maggie he’ll be over in a minute, want a drink?” He was trying to sound normal but you could tell it was strained, he’d been beating himself up for weeks about what had happened to you, blaming himself even though there was nothing he could have done differently, nothing he’d done wrong.

“I’ll just have a water, thanks,” Stella nodded to you from across the bar and went to fetch one as you took your seat.

“You good?” Jay asked, giving you a careful once over.

“I’m good Jay,” you said softly, squeezing his hand as your drink arrived. He opened his mouth to say something else but you shook your head and said more confidently, “I am.”

You could tell he wanted to say more but at that moment Will came over and took a seat on the other side of you. “Hey, glad you made it, I was beginning to think you would show.” He patted your arm, the same concern in his eyes that Jay had. 

“Why would I not? I am the one who asked to talk to you guys you know.” You smiled.

“Uh-huh we know, is everything alright?” Will asked.

“Yeah you said you had something to tell us,” Jay sat up straighter, and both men got very serious. 

“Relax, I’m fine, it’s nothing bad,” you reassured them before continuing, “I know I haven’t really been seeming like myself lately, and I know you guys are worried, but I just needed you to know that you shouldn’t be. I’ve needed some space to think things over, make sense of what happened-” Jay cast his eyes down guiltily and you grabbed his hand again “-and I’ve come to a conclusion, I’ve made a decision about my life that I think will really help me move past this.”

“Oh?” Will said questioningly, “you’re not like, leaving Chicago are you?”

“No, nothing like that,” you said, “I’m quitting the library, not right away, but it’s time I do something else with my life, something more impactful, like you guys.” Jay and Will shared a worried look.

“Are you sure? After what happened, don’t you want to be somewhere safe?” Jay asked.

“I was somewhere safe when what happened happened Jay,” you told him, “and I can’t go back and pretend nothing happened, I want to move forward, make a difference,” your voice was confident and steady, “I’m not a kid anymore, this is my decision, I’ve given it a lot of thought and I know it’s the right one.”

“Okay,” Will conceded but Jay still shook his head.

“What did you have in mind?” He asked, “what, cop?”

“Doctor?” Will followed on.

“No,” you shook your head and smiled, “I’m gonna become a firefighter.”

[dimpledinnie]

hiraeth - yang jeongin

hiraeth- (n) A homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that never was.

summary: The world has always been divided. Not by race nor by species, but by season, with borders dividing the drastically diverse climates. Crossing into non provincial land would rob someone of their life, but despite knowing that, the feeling of finding an entirely different world creates a craving far too strong to ignore. But maybe it’s the person on the other side making that curiosity so insatiable.

pairings: yang jeongin x reader

before I start, I want to thank you jihyung​ for helping me write this story. I have been wanting to write a story for the longest time but I never got to do it. I’m so very excited to be working together with him to write this story. We hope that you’ll enjoy this story as much as we enjoy writing them 💞

Chapters: Intro 1 2 3 4

"Yeji, I'm not going any further." You panted, placing both arms on your knees as you lowered your body to catch your breath. Your best friend stopped in her tracks and looked back at you, her ponytail flicking away the snow that was coming down softly.

"Come on, you said you wanted to go for a hike! Hyunjin and Chan are already way ahead." Yeji pouted, both of her hands now across her chest. You slowly straightened your back and looked at her with desperate eyes, and she rolled her eyes, knowing what exactly that look was telling her.

"Look, I'll just go back down to the shop we passed before and wait there,” you suggested, referring to the small hiking shop near the start of the hiking trail. “You can go after the boys and call me when you're on your way down."

Yeji looked at you, letting out a sigh knowing that she wouldn't be able to change your mind even if she tried.

"Fine, but you're getting me a hot chocolate in return," she huffed. You nodded your head vigorously in return, even giving her both thumbs up. You were rather excited to sit down, and it was written all over your face.

Yeji gave you a soft smile before turning around to call out for her brother, Hyunjin, to wait for her, who was already halfway up the stairs stopped, shouting at her to hurry up. She quickly ran up the stairs two steps at a time, and you watched fondly as she disappeared behind the railing.

You made your way down the stairs and back to the hiking trail as you said you would, making sure to really take in the scenery that you have missed trying to keep up with your three eager hikers. Tall trees lined the hiking track, all equally covered in thick layers of white powder. You reached out for one of the branches and gave it a little tug, watching the snow glide off the bare branches. The falling snow collided with your hoodie sleeve and you let out a little squeal, feeling the coldness seeping into the fabric and onto your skin. After shaking it off, your eyes started to wander behind it, where numerous rows of similar trees stood. As you looked closer into the woods, you noticed that one of the trees had a blue ribbon tied around its trunk. There was another following the first one, then another…

"A trail?" you mumbled to yourself; you knew you weren't supposed to, but with your curiosity at its peak, suddenly you found yourself on the other side of the fence. You followed the trail, the hiking track slowly disappearing behind you as you eagerly headed deeper into the woods. As you continued on, the trees slowly started to sprout… little plants on top of them, just like the ones you had seen on television. Sure, you’d seen these… leaves, were they called? You had seen these before, in photos, videos, movies, what have you, but never did it strike you that these were real.

You reached out to hold the nearest leaf between your fingers, and immediately its texture and temperature shocked you. It felt something like a mix between paper and cotton, and as your nails pressed into it, a hole tore through the material, startling you. They were delicate and secreted some type of water when broken.

Fascinated, you slowly moved to the next tree, whose branches held more, bigger leaves, and even had a small creature slinking along the wood in a strange fashion. It was maybe an inch long, bunching its string-like body into an arch before flattening to move forward. Your hand reached forward to touch it, and it happily climbed onto your finger. You looked closer to see that it's patterned green skin had little hairs sticking out of it, but the strands were very spread out and thin, like the ones on the spaces between your knuckles, and it didn’t seem to have a mouth. At least, not one you could see.

The snow on the ground began to lessen until it was gone completely, more greenery coating the ground. Your hand allowed the little creature to find a new place to rest in the grass, as it was called, as you swept it under your palm, feeling the silky, almost sticky texture.

A new creature came your way, this one with a concerning amount of eyes.

Your startled confusion had made you completely unconscious of what is around you until you tripped on what seemed to be a rope. You fell face-first to the dirt, letting out a small groan. You pushed yourself up with both of your arms and turned your head around, looking to see what it was you had tripped over. A low hanging rope fence came to your vision, which extended both ways as far as you could see. A sign reading the words "winter border" hung loosely in the middle of the rope, seeming unkempt and unattended to in the way it almost touched the ground.

"Are you okay?" A foreign voice spoke behind you and you let out a yelp, scrambling to your feet and jumping behind the fence before whipping your head towards the source of the voice.

Just a few feet away stood a strange looking boy, dressed in a pale yellow shirt paired with some light blue jeans. His fox-like eyes grew big and he had both of his hands in front of him, his rosy lips slightly agape.

Were you hallucinating? Yeah, that was definitely it. You had absolutely no explanation for how the… the thing in front of you looked like a human, but had glowing amber eyes, hair as brown as wood, and rather skin the colour of coffee. Not to mention how so much of his skin was exposed, and he didn’t seem to mind. There were even a few marks spread out along his arm.

“Are you okay?” he asked, craning his neck to look at you from other angles. “I heard something fall and came to see if everything was okay, and…”

"It's okay, I-I’m" You reassured the boy, but it was more for yourself.

The both of you stood there in silence, the rope fence the only border separating you. He took a few step backs and moved back behind a similar looking rope fence. You looked him over once more then back at the fence, and he seemed to acknowledge your confusion, opening his mouth to speak.

"Well as you can see from the sign, this is… this is the border between winter and spring. To remind people that in a meter, they will reach the line."

"What line?"

"The line that really separates the winter from the spring." He stopped for a moment before continuing, "You're not supposed to go beyond a meter from there because the drastic temperature can and will kill you. No one’s survived going more than five meters before." He explained.

"Wait, wait,” you laughed nervously. “So you're telling me I almost died?"

"I don't know how to put it in a nice way, but yeah, pretty much. That's why I ran over as fast as I could when I heard you. I had to stop you from crossing the line before… you know."

You paused, taking a moment to yourself to process what he had relayed to you, the overwhelming amount of information poking at all sides of your head. Slowly, as you let them in one by one, things started to make sense. You looked in front of you, seeing how snow stopped falling not too far from the line he mentioned. Behind the boy the forest continued, but changed drastically. The trees no longer had their familiar poking pines but rather the soft leaves you had just observed, riddled with small creatures you had never seen before.

Your gaze dropped to beneath his white sneakers, where there was actual green grass, greener and fuller than what you had seen behind you. It was something you had only observed on television and, like the leaves, had previously no idea even existed. The sky above him was blue and bright, and you could almost make out the faint sounds of animals chirping and singing in the background.

"I-I guess I owe you one for saving my life. Thank you..." You tilted your head slightly and pouted your lips, dragging out the last word for him to insert his name into your sentence.

"Jeongin." He gave you a warm smile, dimples poking out from both his cheeks.

God, you were such a sucker for dimples.

"...Jeongin,” you repeated, trying the sound out on your tongue. “Thank you, Jeongin. I’m Y/N, nice to meet you."

"That's a pretty name." His response immediately sent blood rushing towards your cheeks and you dropped your head low, trying to cover up your red cheeks.

Seeing your reaction, his eyes widened.

“You’re turning red, you need to go back,” he spoke fearfully. “Please, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

"No, no, I’m...” you let out a breath. “I’m okay, I’ll just…”

You took a few steps back, now there being two meters between the two of you. It felt too far for comfort.

“I just… I didn’t know seasons were real. How do you know so much about them?”

“There are people that defend the borders to keep us safe. My dad is one of those people.” He turned to point at a tower behind him that you wondered how you hadn’t noticed. “He watches from there. People usually come to the border, start to feel ill and turn back, but he’s there watching in case someone goes too far.” He let out a sigh. “There's so many things I want to teach you… How much time do you have?"

"I have all-" you were interrupted by the sound of your phone going off. “Sorry, sorry, I have to get this quickly. Hold on.”

He nodded understandingly and you quickly pulled out your phone from your hoodie pocket, sliding the answer button, hoping to finish the call soon so you can listen to what Jeongin had to say.

"Y/N! We decided not to go all the way up so we're coming down now!” Yeji’s overexcited voice came suddenly, startling you and making you hold the receiver a bit further from your ear. “Better start ordering those hot chocolates, Chan and Hyunjin want some too! See you!" "

“Yeah sure. See you,” you responded, feeling low that you had to leave Jeongin now. Yeji and her oh, so perfect timing.

"I take it that you've got to go?" Jeongin asked, pouting slightly, and you gave him a small nod.

"Meet me here tomorrow?”

[rosethesongbird]

Angelic Illness Pt. 2

Part 1 here

Crowley closed the door softly behind him. 

“Ah, the mighty venomous cobra emerges from his den…” said Dawn, from the couch. “Hmm, do snakes make dens?” Crowley rolled his eyes. 

“Heaven if I know. I thought you were working today?” 

“Normally I do, but since I have a patient—“ she gestured to the bedroom door— “I figured I’d work from home. Just notes and charts anyway.” Crowley went to look over her shoulder. 

“Uh, uh, uh,” said the brunette, closing the laptop and wagging her finger. “Privacy,” 

“C’mon, privacy’s no fun for me,” said Crowley, flopping onto the couch. 

“For you, yes,” Dawn remarked, re-opening the laptop. “Until I lose my job for privacy violations and won’t leave you guys alone.” She smirked. 

“You must be feeling a little less worried, if you’re out here.” Her gaze flicked over the top of her small glasses to the demon’s yellow eyes. 

“Not really,” he said, sighing. “Just figured I can only watch him breathe for so long.” 

Dawn hummed softly. “Compassion fatigue,” she said. “You reach a point where you have to take care of yourself or you can’t take care of others. Maybe you should go for a walk, or a drive, or something.” 

Crowley thought for a moment. “Oh, or better yet, a coffee run.” He looked up at her to see an “innocent” smile. 

“Ngk, fine,” he rose from the couch. He tried in vain to hide his grin from her. She and Aziraphale both were masters of the “Oh, I’m so innocent, I would never use my ineffably good looks to get things that I want” shtick. 

“Better get some more cookies, too, if we’re going to keep our sickie calm,” said Dawn, her focus back on the laptop screen. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’ll be right back,” he sauntered over to the door. “But if anything spills in the Bentley it’s going to be on your head,” he looked back with a half smile, donning his signature round shades. 

“Oh, I’d die before I let anything happen to the Bentley,” assured Dawn, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

The front door shut with a click. 

—

Aziraphale woke to the sound of a few distinguishable clicks. 

First, the tick-tock sound of the small clock Dawn had left on the nightstand. A quarter to three—and judging by the light coming in through the gauzy curtain it was afternoon, not middle of the night. 

Then the pulsing clicks of Dawn’s fingers on the laptop keyboard. A burst of loud, frenzied taps, a “hmm,” a click of the tongue, a single tap, a beat of silence, then another burst of taps, longer this time. 

Crowley was nowhere to be seen. His glasses were gone, so Aziraphale assumed he had left. His head felt oddly fuzzy—like his thoughts were slogging through a swamp—and his mouth was dry. Under the clicks, a high-pitched whine stabbed at his ears. His chest began to ache and he noticed the sensation of his hair sticking to his forehead. He squeezed his eyes shut, in an effort to clear the “fuzz” and the growing headache, and took a deep breath—or tried, anyway. 

The breath came with a blinding, stabbing pain in his chest, and he heard a choked cry. He started to panic—a home intruder in Dawn’s house? When her husband wasn’t home? What if something had happened to Crowley? He started to rise from the bed, first propped up on forearms, then carefully swinging his feet off the bed, steeling himself for a fight. He stood cautiously, bare feet touching cold wood floor, and his head began to swim. 

He reached for the wall to steady himself, leaning up on it for just a minute, vision darkening at the edges, ears ringing so loudly now he couldn’t hear the clicks anymore, voice in his head screaming both “sit down, sit, sleep” and “but what if someone is in danger?” when he felt a soft, gentle touch at his shoulder. 

It wasn’t until then that he realized the cry from earlier was not Dawn, or Crowley, or anyone else, but himself; and in fact, one of the voices he thought were in his head was Dawn gently trying to guide him back to the bed. He made his best attempt to cooperate but felt like his feet were not connected to the rest of him, and the noise in his head graduated from ringing to a sound like rushing water. Black spots appeared in his field of view as he sat down on the bed, Dawn’s words of comfort slipping, scrambled, through his mind like smoke through an open hand. His hands raised to rub his eyes, shaking, cold, sweating, fingers tingling like an electric shock. He was thwarted by Dawn’s grip, one hand firmly holding his arm, pressing hard on the inner part of his wrist. She turned her head toward the clock on the nightstand, her brown curls seeming to move in slow motion. Her other hand moved to his chin, then to his forehead, pulling up on his eyelid. Suddenly both hands moved to his shoulders, and he picked out his name, his full name—Dawn said his full name so seldom—and his diminishing vision caught a look of concern on her face before he slipped into darkness. 

—

Dawn sighed. 

“Dammit, Z.” She laid his limp body down on the bed, sitting down next to him, watching the rise and fall of his chest, still breathing albeit ragged, pulse slow but present. “Just a faint,” she said (to herself, or to her unconscious patient). “Orthostatic syncope. Very normal.” she took a deep breath. “Ugh, Crowley’s gonna be pissed,” she groaned. 

A car door clicked shut outside. Then the click of the front door opening. 

“That you, Crowley?” she yelled from the bedroom.

“No, it’s the Queen,” said the voice mockingly. Dawn rolled her eyes almost reflexively. “I’m in the bedroom,” 

Crowley walked in holding a paper coffee cup. “Everything alright?” 

“Mm,” Dawn hummed. “Your angel just gave me the scare of my life.” She took a sip of her coffee. “I’m sitting on the couch, minding my own business, typing SOAP notes like my life depends on it, and I hear this little noise so I come in here to check on him and he’s just standing there white as a sheet,” 

“Standing?” 

“Yeah, he’s standing up like it’s no big deal, except I’m talking to him and he’s not saying anything, just standing there; and he’s panting like crazy, poor thing. I think he just fainted from standing up too fast, but I’m not entirely sure why he got up in the first place.” 

The two silently looked at each other, then at the still near-motionless angel. 

“That’s what I get for leaving, I guess,” said Crowley, resigned. 

“Oh, no, no. Don’t say stuff like that,” Dawn interrupted. “Sometimes this stuff just happens. He should wake up before too long.” 

Aziraphale stirred with a small moan. 

“See? Told ya,” said Dawn with a smirk. 

Part 3 here

[loaded-remains]

Nothing Personal

Arthur Morgan X f!Reader

Part 1

Part 2

Summary: The more Arthur gets to know you the less he seems to know you at all...and vice versa. That is until another job changes everything....

Warnings: Mild angst. Sexual tension.

Words: 3290

A/N: It’s been a while since I’ve written anything, let alone something like this but I’ve had a couple of things floating around my dusty old head so i decided to let one free. Apologies in advance. It was meant to be a one shot but isn’t…

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

Chapter 3

The following few days had been quiet, you'd passed  time at camp doing chores, occasionally leaving to hunt to help feed everyone. You and Arthur hadn't spoken much lately, a simple nod of recognition as you crossed paths with an added 'hello' sometimes. It felt like you'd gone backwards with him rather than forwards, not that you knew where forwards would take you anyway. The exchange by the cliff tops days before starting to fade in your memory, but his touch, his scent...that you couldn't shake and that drove you wild, not always in the way you were comfortable with.

You sat by the fire alone, a warm cup of coffee in your hand, as you stared into the distance contemplating everything one more time. Maybe it was time to move on, start a fresh somewhere new. You were so distracted by your own thoughts you hadn't heard Sadie call your name three times before you finally snapped back to look at her.

“Hey?” she said “You okay? You look miles away.”

“Yeah...” you said, shaking your head smiling “...Sorry...I'm fine.”

“Okay...” Sadie continued “...Good...Well Dutch wants to talk to us over by his tent...you coming?”

You nodded, standing up and shaking what was left of your drink on the floor before placing your cup back in you satchel, before following her across camp to where Dutch was standing.

He wasn't alone. Alongside him were John, Charles and Arthur, all waiting for you and Sadie to join them.

“Ah...Ladies...” Dutch began “...I'm glad you could join us.”

He moved into the middle of the group, his eyes now focused on you and Sadie.

“I was just explaining to my boys here...” he continued, gesturing to the men “...I have a new plan...a plan to get us some money. Now it might not be all we need but it might just be enough to buy us some time”

You were intrigued. Anything to get you out of camp other than hunting was always welcomed. You were starting to crave some action.

Dutch went on to explain about a train that was due through north of Valentine and how Hosea had found out that there would be a decent amount of cash on board. He laid out a plan, places, people, times of how he had wanted you all to play your part in carrying out the robbery.

“So...” he asked, his eyes scanning the group before him “...you all okay with that?”

He waited for anyone to question what was being asked of them.

“Sounds okay to me...” Charles responded.

“Me too.” John added.

You and Sadie nodded while Arthur just glared at Dutch not saying a word.

“Good...” Dutch finally said “...Ill leave you all to it then. Don't let me down.”

Everyone walked quickly and when they finally got to their horses, each of them adjusted saddles, checked guns and ammunition. It was bound to get ugly and everyone wanted to be prepared.

Arthur, however, had hung back to speak to Dutch.

“You think this is wise?” he asked in a quiet concerned tone.

“Wise?” Dutch frowned “What do you mean, son?”

Arthur looked over his shoulder in your direction as you stood by your horse before swinging back to look at Dutch.

“The girl?” he added “You really think she should be coming?”

“Come now Arthur...” Dutch said walking back into his tent “...You of all people don't let emotions get in the way....besides...I happen to think she'll do just fine. She's got that fire in her belly...we need that right now.”

Arthur hung his head. He knew, for the most part, that Dutch was right, but it still lodged in his throat what had happened last time you had him had done a job before.

“I guess...” he said looking back up at Dutch “...it's just I...”

Dutch turned, placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder, stopping him from completing his sentence.

“Son...” he said softly “...I remember when you had that same fire, that desire to do what needed to done and to hell with the cost...stick to the plan....it'll all be just fine.”

Arthur simply sighed, nodding defeatedly at Dutch.

“Well alright then...” Dutch said, patting Arthur on the back as he turned to walk away.

Arthur made his way swiftly over to his own horse, as you and the others sat patiently waiting for him to join them.

“We ready?” John asked eagerly.

“I think so...” Arthur replied despondently, jumping onto his own horse before trotting away, leading you all out of camp.

The short journey to the location Dutch and Hosea had set out for you all hadn't taken long. You had all cantered in a group, Arthur out in front, John and Charles following close behind with you and Sadie at the back. No one really spoke as you rode out, instead the group focused on the mission, the plan, to getting the job done. That was until Arthur finally broke the silence.

“So...” Arthur shouted back “....we all know what we're doing?”

You knew the question was really directed at you but after everyone confirmed their answer you simply nodded in his direction.

“Good...” he added “...I don't want no mistakes this time...” His eyes fixed on you as he spoke, before turning forward, yanking the reins making his horse run faster.

He really wouldn't let it go.

The group finally pitched up in a small wooded area just below the train line on the outskirts of town, You hitched your horse tightly to a tree and collected a rifle from the back that had been secured under your blanket. The weather had turned, a sharp wind with driving rain making it almost impossible to hear or see anything. Not ideal conditions for anything, let alone a train robbery.

You pulled your hat down the cover your face as you walked against the rain before finally making your way over to the others.

“Charles? Sadie?” Arthur said quietly“You guys go over there...behind that wall.” gesturing to the right of the track as he did.

The pair scuttled over the track before Arthur turned his attention to John.

“Marston?” he whispered  “...You get ready behind that tree?”

John simply nodded and ran to hide in wait of the train.

Arthur then pulled out his gun, cocking the arm back not saying anything else, leaving you confused.

“What about me?” you asked frowning.

He stopped, the rain pelting against his face, and glared at you before finally speaking.

“You're staying with me” he said firmly “I need you so I can see you this time.”

He started to walk away to where he wanted you to wait, not waiting for an answer.

You could feel the anger growing within you once again as you watched him walk away. The arrogance of the man was unbearable.

“Are you kidding me?” you shouted in his direction, the rain not able to drown out your yell.

The silence between you both from the last few days was starting to boil over and you were close to losing it with him yet again.

Arthur turned sharply back to look at you.

“No...” he said angrily “....as matter of  fact ..I ain't kidding. Now get your ass over here now!!!”

You shook your head, the rain running down your face, soaking your clothes as you stood in the open staring back at him.

“You are an insufferable asshole, Morgan!!!” you yelled, not moving from your spot. “I don't need looking after!!!”

“Just do as you're damn told, woman!!” Arthur grunted through his teeth, tired of the arguing.

You were just about to answer when John interrupted you.

“Would you both just shut up” he yelled over at them “We're about to rob a damn train...!!!”

You stopped, looking back at John, before conceding defeat and made your way over to where Arthur stood. Now wasn't the time to try and come to some sort of agreement with how you and Arthur would ever be able to get along and you were starting to think that maybe you never would.

You stood next to Arthur, the heat from his body penetrating through his wet clothes, the familiar scent of him filling your nostrils yet again. He never spoke directly to you again, instead focusing as the gentle rumble of the train bounded towards you all along the tracks.

This was it, another chance to prove yourself. Not to him, he would always find a negative in anything you did, but a chance to show you could hold your own when things got real.

As the train slowed, you all moved closer, pulling up your bandanas in anticipation of it finally coming to rest for you to board.

Charles and Sadie ran into the first carriage as John made swift work of incapacitating the driver. You and Arthur made your way to the rear of the second carriage, Arthur moving to the luggage compartment checking for loot boxes. You focused your gun on what few passengers there were, demanding money from whoever was closest to you. This wasn't a way to make a living but you had to survive. That's all you ever wanted, was to just survive.

You could hear the familiar voices of John, Sadie and Charles as they shouted at the passengers in the front carriage, as you yourself continued to comb the men and women for whatever you could get.

All of a sudden you heard a gunshot come from behind you. You turned sharply, fear trying to enter your thoughts, as you saw Arthur drop to the floor. A group of about five guards were now standing in the last carriage where Arthur had been with one of them pointing a gun in his direction. You wasted no time in raising your rifle, pulling the trigger and catching the guard squarely in the chest, making him drop to the floor immediately. The other guards tried to force their way towards you as passengers fled the carriage amongst the commotion.

“What the hells going on?” You heard John shout as you continued to fire at the incoming guards, catching another making him drop.

You didn't answer him as you continued to defend yourself, trying desperately to search for Arthur among the gunfire.

Sadie, still standing in the carriage where she had been frantically searching passengers for anything she could get her hands on, looked up through the window, a few lights flickering through the trees. She tried to make out what it was when all of a sudden the familiar sound of hooves on ground came thundering closer. She could make out the shadowing figures of law men on horseback making their way to their location, guns pointed firmly in their way.

“We got company!!!” she yelled, making John and Charles snap back into cover, looking as the law made their way ever closer.

Both men joined Sadie, guns held high, shooting back at the men on horseback.

You had your own problems. The three remaining guards drawing closer to you as you picked another one off with your rifle. You could just make out the dark figure of Arthur on the ground, slowly writhing around in pain, his hand fixed firmly on his shoulder. As you drove another bullet into one of the guards causing him to fall against a large wooden chest you barged forward to the remaining man, knocking him to the carriage floor before removing your knife from its sheath and driving it into his chest.

You could still hear John, Sadie and Charles battling it out with the law men outside but you returned your focus to Arthur who was still lying on the floor. You dropped to your knees and rolled him over, the evidence of his wound now apparent. Blood soaked his shirt and he gave a gentle moan as you looked down at him.

“Son of a bitch...” he muttered angrily under his breath.

“You're gonna be okay...” you replied reassuringly, ripping a piece of his shirt to wad the wound, placing light pressure to try and stop the bleeding.

“The hell is goin' on out there?” He asked as he tried to sit up, wincing at your actions to help him.

“The law is what's going on...” You replied frantically “..but we need to get you out of here...”

“Well, let's go help 'em...” Arthur said firmly, trying to stand, pain searing through his shoulder as he did, making him yell out.

“No!” You sharply replied “You're not well.”

Arthur looked at you dead in the eye, his brow furrowing with displeasure at your negativity.

“I ain't in the habit of leaving folk behind” he replied, a deep gruff tone to his voice, the gunfire still ringing in your ears.

You just stared at him.

Another dig at you.

You knew he wouldn't leave anyone behind, not even you, but you had to try and reason with him. Now wasn't the time for 'I told you so'.

“I know....” you finally replied softly “...and I am sorry...I really am...but we gotta get you outta here!!!”

It was in that moment, that apology, Arthur changed. A softness in his face as he looked up at you, a flicker of relief as he lay on the floor, your hand still pressed firmly on his chest.

The gunfire grew closer, making you snap your head up to look in the direction of your fellow camp mates. You caught John's eye as he had made his way through to the other entrance to the carriage which you were with Arthur.

“Get out of here!!!” he yelled.

“I ain't leaving you...” Arthur screamed back, watching John dodge a cascade of bullets as he spoke.

“I ain't asking, brother...” John replied firmly, shouting through all the noise that surrounded them “..Now go!!”

John looked up at you, not waiting for Arthur to respond.

“You take care of him...” he pleaded “...please!”

You simply nodded before watching John leave to join the others, the gunfire slowly dissipating, the number of law men remaining dwindling with the rapid fire of Sadie, Charles and John. Others would be here anytime soon as word would have spread of another robbery on the railway line. You returned your attention back to Arthur, placing his other arm around your shoulder and slowly easing him to his feet, He grimaced in pain with every movement no matter how gentle you were trying to be.

You finally made your way back to your horses watching the others making small work of the remaining men on horseback. You looked at Arthur, his back now leaning against his own trusted horse.

“Can you ride?” you asked, the heavy rain still driving into them.

“I'll be fine” he said, as if the question even needed to be asked.

You helped him to horse, his body struggling to find the saddle as he yelped out with pain one more time.

Settling into your own saddle, you lead on in front clutching the reins of Arthur's horse, leading them away from the battle and into the damp darkness of the night, not looking back as you did.

You travelled for about fifteen minutes, constantly checking on Arthur behind you as he lay slumped over onto the mane of his horse. He never spoke, a gentle grunt falling from his lips as you made your way over rough ground.  The ride for the most part, was quiet until you finally came across a small path that led from the main highway leading you to the shoreline of a river. As you wiped the rain from your eyes, you could just make out a small cabin in the distance. You made your way over, hitching your horse to the rail outside before quickly checking if anyone was there or had been recently. You opened the door, a musty smell welcoming you as you did. If anyone had lived here it had been vacant for some time. You quickly returned to Arthur, his body using all its strength to stay on top of his horse. He was fading, the loss of blood slowly starting to take a hold. You grabbed him as he slowly slid off, using all of your own strength to hold him up as his feet finally found the ground. You walked him over to the cabin and  found your way indoors and out of driving wind and rain. You noticed there was a single bed in the corner which you quickly moved Arthur too, his limp body dropping heavily on to, finally laying and relaxing.

You found a lantern which you lit, illuminating the tiny space you found yourself in. You looked down at Arthur, his eyes closed, his face covered in a mixture of dirt, blood and rain. You quickly opened your satchel, retrieving a small bottle of whisky and placed it in his hand.

“Here...” you said softly “...drink this”

Arthur slowly opened his eyes, grabbing the bottle before slightly lifting his head to look at it.

“What is it?” he asked quietly “Poison?”

You smiled, a hint of previous encounters implied in his question.

“If I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead.” you smirked back at him as you slowly started to remove the cloth from his shoulder.

Arthur smiled back before taking a big swig of alcohol, returning the bottle to you. You took the bottle from him, placing it on the floor before finding the right words for your next question.

“You're gonna need to take off your shirt....” you said sheepishly. You felt nervous asking him as you weren't sure what his response would be.

He looked up at you, his eyes softened as he as he did. He held your gaze for what felt like ages before finally responding.

“I'm gonna need your help.” he replied, his tone now quiet., not once taking his eyes off of you.

You paused, taking a breath as you did before leaning forward to him and reaching for the top button on his shirt. Time felt like it had stopped again just like it had on the cliff top. You could feel his breath on your face, the whiskey fumes filling your nostrils as you slowly made you way down through the buttons, the wet cloth of his shirt clinging to his chest, your eyes not looking at his face as you did until you had reached the bottom button and pulled his shirt apart revealing his skin to you. You leaned ever closer to him as you slowly pulled the damp cotton over his broad shoulders one at a time, taking great ease when releasing his wounded shoulder.

You stopped and finally looked at him, his eyes tracing your lips and back to your eyes. It seemed like the pain had left him momentarily as he studied every inch of your face. You were lost in him and you didn't know why, the line between love and hate seeming to become even more blurred than before. What was happening? This was the one area of you where fear really did creep in, and at that moment it was busting down the door and screaming at you.

“Who are you?” Arthur finally said quietly, breaking the tension.

You paused before answering as you searched for the right words to say.

“I don't know any more.” was all you replied.

[slash-em-up]

Marry Your Monsters Pt. 6

Step back. A second meeting.

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

7 Years Prior:

Barry brayed when he laughed.

This was just a fact, neither negative nor positive – and if that was the only part to that story Miranda wouldn’t be desperate for an excuse to leave his side right now.

An obnoxious laugh wasn’t anything to be ashamed of if it was genuine – the problem was, Barry only laughed like that when he was trying to make inroads with someone.  

Come to think of it, Miranda didn’t think she’d ever heard his real laugh. But she supposed that’s how you made partner at a law-firm by thirty-seven. Brown-nosing like a fool.

However, considering that she’d only agreed to come to the party with the man because he’d put her in connection with people she might otherwise not have even seen, let alone talked to... couldn’t that also be considered a type of boot-licking?

Or just a legal type of prostitution. Fuck. That wasn’t an image she ever wanted in her mind again.

Miranda made a pact with herself then and there – there was no way she was going home with Barry tonight. So help her god, that man would not see her naked.

Ever since she’d graduated law school she’d had to claw and fight for her place in the suit-jacket wearing and cigar-smoking world of defense attorneys. Despite ‘Legally Blonde’ coming out recently she still felt like she was playing a man’s game in a man’s world – woefully ill-equipped in the rules of a game she hadn't learned how to play just yet. But she would. That’s where Barry came in.  

If only he weren’t so very, VERY boring.

“...so then I said ‘Jimmy, isn’t that from the time we went to Olive Garden together?’ and he said ‘yes!’”

Aaaand off went the laugh. Loud, and right in her ear. She needed something a lot stronger than the champagne she was sipping to get through the night.

“Pardon me gentlemen. I think it’s time for a scotch.” Miranda smiled, excusing herself from the group.

“Oh hey, get me one too, won’t you Mimi? Double, with two ice cubes?”

A murmur of assent rose from the group.

Great. She was the waitress now. And Mimi?! Please. She’d outgrown ‘Randi’ in college and she’d never been a ‘Mimi’.

Her lips thinned as she stared back at the man who’d asked her for a scotch.  

“I think you can order that yourself, Ted. Or do you need me to find a court stenographer around here to read your order back to you?”

A few men in the circle chuckled at her sass. A few winced. Ted narrowed his eyes.  

“Careful Mimi – wouldn’t want that attitude to get back to Mr. Haeyden.”

Haeyden, Haeyden & Lock was the firm Miranda had taken a position with – if Ted was in with Mr. Haeyden that comment might blow her chances of making partner in the next decade or two.

She grimaced but tried to hide it behind a winning smile.

“Two cubes you said, Ted?”

Ted smirked.  

“That-a girl.”

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

Miranda just barely refrained from stomping over to the bar to order the drinks.

When did she become such a push-over? Was her career really so important that she was going to let some toupee-wearing jag-off order her around?

Where had her self-respect gone?

God dammit.

She leaned heavily against the bar and ordered the drinks.

“And can I get a shot of tequila for the road?”

The bartender nodded; and then glanced to the side where a person leaned against the bar by Miranda, rapping a knuckle against the wood and holding up two fingers, signaling for the bartender to make that two tequilas.

Internally Miranda groaned, so not in the mood to be hit on right now.

“Look, it’s an open bar -” she started, turning towards the man.

“ - you don’t need to try and...” her sentence cut off as she fully faced the man and looked up... and up... into a pair of familiar warm brown eyes.

“Jesse?”

The man responded with a toothy grin, nodding once.

Time had certainly been kind to him – lean muscle filling in the areas where he’d been too slender in college, attractive wrinkles just barely beginning to form around his eyes and the corners of his mouth.

“You shaved your head...”

Jesse huffed in amusement at her obvious statement, running a hand over his bald scalp.

‘It’s good to see you Miranda.’ he signed.

“Wow, it’s really good to see you too. What’s it been, ten years?”

The man nodded, tilting his head to observe her better.

‘You look good. And here with the H,H & L crew; I guess you finally got what you’d been working for.’

Miranda’s ASL was a little rusty; but she still understood the gist of what Jesse was saying.

“Oh yeah... I’ve been there for a couple years now... Right out of Law School actually... And how are you? I didn’t expect to see you at a charity event...”

Their drinks arrived, and Jesse turned away a moment to swipe a few lime slices out of the bar cubbies, handing her one and using his height to bend over and pull a salt-shaker out from behind the counter.

‘I’m doing fantastic. Can’t you tell by the fact that I came over in the middle of a party to do a free tequila shot?’

A guffaw of laughter escaped Miranda before she clapped her hand tightly over her mouth – but the damage was done. Jesse was grinning ear-to-ear at her loss of decorum.

She recovered and held her shot glass aloft.

“To a wonderful party.”

Jesse raised his in salute before setting it to the side, licking his hand, and carefully prepping the salt and lime.

Miranda followed suit and met his mischievous glance with a wry grin of her own.

“1, 2, 3!”

They both downed their shots together, coming up with a gag at the cheap taste of the alcohol, and laughing at their childishness.

“I haven’t done that in years!”

Jesse was still smiling as he signed ‘Really? I do that every night.’

Miranda giggled.

“Still the party-boy, huh?”

The grin stretching across Jesse’s face faltered, and slowly dropped.

‘Yeah, still that same old asshole.’

Miranda flinched, all the accusations she’d thrown around so many years ago coming back like a flood.

She straightened, looking Jesse as close to dead in the eye as she could.

“Maybe that asshole wasn’t quite the kind of asshole I was thinking he was.”

Jesse looked at her curiously.

“... I was wrong... maybe I was too quick to come to conclusions about you...I mean, that was really the first time we’d ever talked and -”

Her explanation was cut off by two very unwelcome interlopers.

“Hey Mimi! Where’s that scotch?”

Ted and Barry sauntered up to the counter, standing to her left before noticing who she was talking to – immediately making their way to her side, and crowding her behind them.

“Mr. Cromeans, no one said you’d be here tonight!”

“How’s your grandfather, we heard he hadn’t been in the best of health recently...”

“Business going well? I heard through the grapevine you’d been diversifying your portfolio. Always a smart idea – if you’re interested I can put you in touch with -”

Miranda interjected loudly.

“EXCUSE ME, gentlemen. I believe I was talking with Mr. Cromeans. Perhaps you’d like to order your drinks while we finish our conversation?”

Both men looked at Miranda like she’d grown a second head.

Jesse fought to hold his smile back at their flabbergasted looks; only deigning to raise an eyebrow at the two when they looked to him for a reaction.

‘You heard the lady.’

Miranda moved back to Jesse’s side as the two lawyers muttered and slunk off to the other side of the bar.

‘Don’t take this the wrong way; but I think that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen...’

The skin on Miranda’s neck heated to what she suspected was a bright red at Jesse’s words, and at her own brashness.

“Good, because I think that probably cost me any hope of a partnership I have in the near future...”

Jesse’s bright-white smile was back full-force as he signed casually.

‘If you’re really looking for some more serious work, I might have something you’d be interested in. How do you feel about corporate law?’

Miranda blinked.

“It wasn’t my strongest subject; but I’m a fast learner...”

She leaned forward into the man’s space, feeling emboldened by both the alcohol and the ‘devil may care’ attitude Jesse seemed to exude.

“How about I take you out for drinks and we can talk about it?”

Jesse’s shoulders rose and fell in silent, hearty laughter – eyes bright with delight at her boldness.

‘Why Miranda, I thought you’d never ask...’

[artlessictoan]

*crawls out of the void to dump this and disappear again* so just a lil bday prezzie for my good ol pal @thecozycryptid... a day late. as is my usual mo. there’s still 10 mins of the day left it’s definitely not 2 days late. fuck. it was originally gonna be part of as longer story but i got a little over ambitious with it so here’s just one scene, still gonna work on the rest bc it’s a kanky bday thing but who knows when it’ll turn up kjdfhgsjhkdfg

anyway HOPE YOU ENJOY BUDDY!!

---

The sounds of grunting and cracking wood floating over the wall weren’t unusual, but Kankuro was in the middle of a very good book and they weren’t helping his concentration.

Scrambling up the wall separating the training area from the garden proper, he poked his head over and glared at the girl busy pummelling a training dummy into dust. “Yo, I just repaired those, you wanna slow down so they last more than a week this time?”

He was fully prepared for her to scream at him, so when she instead jumped half a foot in the air and spun around like she was expecting an attack, he raised a brow. Yodo didn’t calm down much when she saw it was only him, just gave him that look she had whenever she was stressing about something and didn’t know whether to dare ask for help, or just run away and pretend she was above the assistance of others.

Deciding that the book wasn’t quite that interesting, he pulled the rest of his body over the wall and dropped down on the other side. “You wanna talk?” he asked, not stepping any closer, so she didn’t feel pressured and clam up as a result.

There was a moment where she could’ve gone either way, but it only lasted a few seconds. “I think I’m sick,” she mumbled; if he weren’t a shinobi, he might not have heard her.

“Sick?” Clearly it wasn’t something minor like a cold – as tough as she liked to act, she tended to become a bit of a whiny brat when she knew she could get extra attention by playing up her illness – and he hadn’t noticed anything off about her the last few days. “What kind of sick?”

Resigned to opening up to him, her cool, rough façade dropped away and she stomped over to him, flopping down on the ground and answering with her most petulant whine, “I don’t know! I was fine until I went to Konoha last week, but now I keep feelin’ really weird and hot and tingly at random times, you think I caught something while I was there?”

Ok, so she probably wasn’t that worried, the tension in his shoulders dropped a notch as he sat down next to her. “Maybe, when exactly did this start?”

“Right after I met up with Chouchou, I kinda ignored it at first ‘cause I was so excited to see her again, but it wouldn’t go away whenever we were hanging out, it sorta stopped when I got back home but now I get all sweaty and uncomfortable for no reason and I can’t figure out what’s wrong.”

“That doesn’t sound like any illness I’ve ever heard of, you sure there’s no common link, like after you’ve eaten something specific? Could be an allergy or something.”

Her face screwed up as she wracked her brain for clues, meanwhile Kankuro gave her a brief visual examination himself. She didn’t look particularly unwell, a little on the thin side but she’d always been skin and bones – several doctors had assured Gaara that it was just a result of childhood malnutrition and as long as she was eating healthily now then it was nothing to worry about – and her face was a little flushed but that could very easily just be a result of her working herself up about the whole thing.

“I think… I guess I notice it most when I’m thinking about Chouchou?” She frowned. “Kinda weird, maybe it’s just ‘cause she reminds me of Konoha which is where I first felt sick? Actually, now I’m feeling weird again, do you think she made me sick?”

The urge to slap his own face was overwhelming, but he fought through it and carefully packed away his repressed laughter deep inside, to be released later on when she was less likely to punch him for it. “Yeah, I’ve heard about this before…” He turned to fully face her, placing a comforting hand gently on her shoulder, before continuing, “I’m sorry, but the symptoms are clear, I have to diagnose you with Lovestruck Idiotitis.”

She stared blankly at him.

This time he really couldn’t hold back a snort at her painful obliviousness. “You’ve got a crush on Chouchou, kiddo.”

“Wha- no. No. I don’t- No!”

“Ok, so the feeling hot and tingly, does that get worse when you think of her? Have you been paying more attention to her appearance lately? Do you think about her more than you used to? Look for excuses to touch her?” The stunned silence and gaping mouth basically answered his questions. “Yeah, that’s what we call a crush.”

He let her have a few moments to come to terms with the crushing reality of his statement, but Yodo wouldn’t be Yodo if she didn’t fight against every uphill battle she came across.

“But that can’t be it, I’ve never had a crush on anyone before and I’ve known her for years without… feeling like this.”

“Feelings don’t happen on a schedule Yodo,” he said, dropping an arm across her shoulders and pulling her into a light hug, “you’re probably just a late bloomer, not that unusual.” He himself remembered not having much interest in relationships until he was well past twenty. Admittedly he’d had other, bigger things to be worrying about before that, like a family on the verge of collapse and a shinobi war or two, but he still remembered how it felt the first time he realised he had feelings for someone.

Pretending not to notice the very soft sniffling, he let Yodo duck out of his grip with the same performative disgust she always levelled at his attempts at comforting. “I… you’re probably right.”

“Always am.”

She scoffed and threw a wad of sand at him, he snickered and threw one back, and all was right with the world again.

“Frick, I dunno what to do now, how do I tell her? I ain’t gonna be able to hide it if I turn into a blushy mess every time I see her.”

Kankuro had seen the way that Chouchou had been looking at her best friend for many years now. “Yeah, I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about, just be yourself.” She clearly already liked Yodo as she was anyway, no need to mess with a winning formula.

Apparently Yodo wasn’t only oblivious to her own feelings however. “No way, I’ve gotta try and win her over somehow, be really suave an’ cool or something.”

“I can help with that,” Kankuro said, a beautiful idea blooming in his head, “just give me full control of your hair and wardrobe for a day, oh and let me puppet you around too, I can make you a queen of dance.”

Another spray of sand slapped against his face. “Forget it, I’m going to ask papa for advice instead!”

Spirits help her, if she did that she really would be doomed.

She was already charging off, leaping to his feet, he chased after her, desperately screaming all the way, “Woah, woah, woah, I was just kidding! Please don’t ask Gaara he has negative amounts of game!”

---

[writehardwhumpharder]

Carson Poisoned by Magic - (Part 2)

This part focuses more on Daniel’s end of things. They’ve started working on a way to reverse the poison but things look hopeless. Carson helps as much as he can but it’s up to Daniel, and he knows it. It took a surprisingly angsty turn. Next part will have more Carson whump. 

After Diana looked Carson over they were sure that his condition couldn't have been caused by anything medical. Nothing matched up. The only consistent symptom he had was the high fever that never seemed to go down no matter what they tried. His mom assured Daniel that Carson could handle fevers better than most people and the side effects were a little different when caused by magic. Usually it happened when he took in too much stray energy from many different people at once, confusing the hell out of his system. This was similar in that his body was probably trying to burn away the poison spreading up his arms at an alarming rate.

Diana sat down with Daniel to give him some tips on searching through their books on magic by causes, symptoms, and treatments. Fortunately they had a lot of information on those topics, unfortunately trying to find out what was wrong with Carson was like looking for a needle in a haystack and unlike science, magic often didn't feel the need to follow its own rules.

His phone rang, drawing him out of his thoughts, and Daniel looked down at it with a grimace. He thought he'd put it on mute. Seeing that it was his brother calling he figured he could spare a minute or so to talk to him.

"Where the fuck have you been?! You were supposed to open today!" Jason yelled into his ear.

Daniel found himself getting irrationally mad, already regretting picking up the phone, "So?"

"What do you mean so? You didn't even tell anyone you weren't coming in."

"Yeah I'm busy, so busy that I have to go," he snapped. There was an exasperated sigh on the other end.

"I can't cover your shifts man, you better have a good reason for flaking out like this," Jason said harshly.

Diana sat on the other end of the couch minding her business even though he knew she could hear them with how loud Jason was yelling.

"Carson's sick so I'll be gone for a little while. Don't call me again," he replied, getting tired of this conversion.

"But you-"

Daniel cut him off, "I can't even begin to describe how little I care right now, figure it out yourself." With that he hung up and tossed his phone aside in an effort to refocus.

"Do you need to be somewhere else?" Carson's mom asked tentatively. She could easily watch Carson if he needed to step out for a minute to take care of things.

"Nope, I have the week the off," he replied.

Just as he was getting his notes back in order Carson's door opened. For a second he thought that maybe they didn't close it all the way and a draft pushed it open but after a few long seconds Carson stepped out of his room, holding tightly onto the door the whole time.

"What are you doing up?" Danny and his mom asked in unison.

"I'm bored," and lonely, but Carson didn't say that part out loud. He was the picture of illness. Dark bags settled under his eyes, his skin had lost of its color, and a blanket was draped messily over his shoulders. The fact that he didn't put a shirt on before coming out of his room was proof enough of how bad he must be feeling. Danny could practically see the rays of heat coming off of him.

Watching him cross the room at such a slow and labored speed was borderline painful but Carson looked steady enough to make it to the couch and they knew he'd take it the wrong way if someone got up to help him.

"It's a war zone out here, almost like someone is dying," he commented dryly.

Diana shot him a sharp glance, "That is not funny."

Carson grumbled to himself, he should at least be able to joke about his own shitty situation. Feeling a general tension emanating from his mom Carson chose to sit on the other couch. He had to push a few things onto the floor so he could lay down and his eyes felt heavy as soon as he was settled in. It was a conscious effort not to fall back asleep.

"So where are we at?" Carson asked.

"Well I called your detective friend and he's looking into where you went the other night and who might have something against you. Riley said she'd be available to get anything we need," Daniel told him.

"Mmm, good," Carson replied. He got the gist of it but sort of lost focus after he referred to Morris as his "friend". The sharp pain behind his temples was the only thing keeping him grounded at this point. The constant fever, headache, and occasional coughing fit had really sapped away all his energy.

"So you've figured out that it's a magical poison, thus we need a magical solution," Carson confirmed. His mom nodded.

"But we can't do magic, so even if we find a way to reverse it there's not much we can do." Daniel sighed. He leaned back into the couch and rubbed his eyes. Meanwhile Carson could feel himself slipping. He needed to help as much as he could while he could still think.

"That's not strictly true. There's a box in my closet with your name on it, go get it." He mumbled.

Danny got up quickly to fetch it. It was unusual for Carson to give anyone permission to look through his things but these were desperate circumstances. Sitting at the bottom of the closet, Danny found a shoe box with his name scribbled across the top. It appeared to be leaking something. At first he was hesitant to touch it but once he turned on the light he saw that it was just sawdust settled around it.

It only took a few seconds to find but by the time he came back to the living room, Diana was kneeling in front of Carson, snapping her fingers in his face. He almost dropped the box.

"What happened?"

"Nothing, he just fell asleep again. What's inside?" She nodded at shoebox in his hands.

"Oh, I haven't checked yet."

They sat down opposite each other with the mystery box in the middle. Daniel opened it slowly, expecting it to perhaps catch fire, or disintegrate on contact. Instead all he was met with was more wood shavings and a crudely carved stick.

"What is that?" His mom asked, leaning forward to get a better look. Danny pinched it between his thumb and forefinger as he pulled it out.

"If I'm not mistaken, I think it's a magic wand." He said. It was hand carved with an array of symbols etched in, most of which Daniel recognized. "He must have carved it himself."

"Clearly," Diana commented. Carson was never much of an artist.

"Hey, s'not finished," a mumble came from the bundle of blankets next to Danny.

"Should we let him have that many blankets when he has a fever?" Daniel asked.

Diana frowned, "probably not."

Carson, who still looked very much knocked out, tightened his grip on the top blanket he'd brought with him from his room. Daniel tried to casually peel it off but Carson's eyes snapped open and he practically growled.

"Don't you dare."

It wouldn't have been hard to wrestle it away from him considering he had almost no body strength at the moment but Daniel backed off, looking back at the wand.

Carson's sleepy eyes followed his gaze, "oh you found it," he laughed lazily, "Happy Birthday." With that he passed out again, for real this time.

It was a shame they had to bring out the gift now, unfinished and a month early, but if it would help them do the magic they'd need to cure him, then he was glowing with happiness that Carson had gone through the trouble to make this ahead of time.

Diana smiled, "It must have taken weeks for him to carve in those symbols."

"Yeah," he agreed.

"It's not often I see him put that much time into something."

Danny nodded.

"Must be really special." Diana was anything but subtle when it came to the topic of their "friendship". She had a point though, it looked like it took a lot of effort, but he still had no idea if it would work. Carson did say it wasn't finished.

"We'll set this aside for when we need it." Danny decided, closing the box and setting it down next to the coffee table.

--

They worked quietly until the sun went down, which was at like 4pm in the afternoon this time of year, yet Daniel still felt like he'd spent days looking through these books. He didn't find anything particularly useful in his own notes which wasn't very promising. Even going through Carson's notes proved fruitless, and a little traumatizing. There was some disturbing stuff in there.

Initially, he thought it would be nice having Carson in the living room with them. But after hours of listening to him moan and whimper in his fevered sleep, Daniel couldn't take it anymore.

He glanced over at the foot sticking out of the blankets. Slowly but surely the poison found it's way there too, starting at the ankles and moving up. There wasn't enough time. He didn't know how to do this.

Before he knew what was happening, Daniel couldn't breathe. His chest felt tight and he struggled to bring in a full breath. Something cold washed over his body. A kind of darkness and fear he'd never felt before. While this was happening, the same few thoughts swirled around in his head. What if he couldn't save him? What if he ran out of time? What if he wasn't good enough and Carson died because of him? What if Carson died?

His vision grew hazy from lack of oxygen. It was like the weight of world was actively crushing him. A rapid thumping in his chest told Danny he needed to move, to do something. Break things, run away, scream, just... something. But all he could do was sit there on the couch, covering his face in his hands. If he even looked at Carson he'd start crying. Scratch that, he was already crying.

Diana was in the kitchen making some soup when she heard panicked gasping. Her heart dropped as some kind of motherly instinct took over. Setting the soup aside off the burner she dashed back into the living room. Carson was still deeply asleep but Daniel wasn't reading anymore. She found him curled up on the couch, crying through his hands and hyperventilating.

Unlike Carson, Daniel was a touchy person, he needed that kind of human contact. And while he couldn't regain control of himself and the world was still crashing down on him, it felt nice to have her hand on his back, drawing calming circles.

"W-what- if, what i-if," he could barely choke out the words. "I, I can't. I can't. I can't..." He got stuck in a loop. It was all too much, he couldn't do it. But Daniel also knew that if he gave up, Carson might not survive. He was plagued with even more guilt for thinking that way.

"I need you to breath with me, just like this," she moved his hands so he could see her and started taking in slow, exaggerated breaths. Much like she would with the kids she took care of at the hospital. It took a few minutes but eventually he was able to match her rhythm, breathing at a normal speed again. The fear didn't quite go away but his vision came back and he was vaguely aware of Diana kneeling next to him. When he met her eyes again he couldn't help but throw his arms around her tiny frame, burying his face in her shoulder. She gave him a reassuring squeeze. In the back of her mind she caught herself liking the feeling of having a son she could hug. While she always respected Carson's boundaries, she kept wishing she could do more for him. Daniel pulled away abruptly after a minute, feeling embarrassed. He looked down and wiped at his face with his sleeve. Diana took the hint and wandered back into the kitchen to finish dinner.

A sleepy feeling replaced his anxiety and he felt a little empty, like his mind had gone quiet. It was great in comparison to how he felt a moment ago but Daniel knew he was still far from okay. With no time to waste he got back to work, starting on a different book about dark magic.

Though no one realized, Carson had woken up at some point while Daniel was panicking. He kept his eyes closed but listened to his friend gasp and sob. He couldn't allow that.

The foot that had slipped out of the blankets earlier edged closer to him. He acted like he was just stretching but when his toes made contact with Daniel's knee, Carson drew away some of his pain. Just a little. He didn't give away any of his own energy but he could take on a little bit of his. It's not like he could feel worse than he already did.

Daniel's eyes widened as he felt Carson's foot graze his leg, and while it did, his pain dulled a bit. There was a warmth to it that he recognized, it felt a little bit like taking a sip whiskey to take the edge off. But Carson was in no state to be doing magic, especially magic that would only hurt him more.

"Don't do that," Daniel said, jerking away. "I'm serious, you can't be doing that right now. You need all the strength you can get."

"You stop doing that," Carson replied. He was so quiet Daniel almost couldn't understand him.

"Stop what?" He asked.

"Stop crying."

[monsters-demons-and-ai-oh-my]

What We Lost and What We Have

Chapter 9:   Wookies, warnings and homophobic grandpas

In which Jack’s sneak stat is a 2, Sam has a weird story about a wookie encounter, and everybody needs a pep talk.

TW’s for this chapter: Talk about past sibling death (not of a main character)

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AU somewhat inspired by Episode 2x20 - What Is and What Should Never Be, and the season 14 storyline concerning Jack’s illness.

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AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

First Chapter

Complete Tumblr Chapter List

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Jack spent almost the whole two hours or so Castiel was gone on his phone and part of Sam was elated.

He’d drafted the same email about corporate responsibility (for the proliferation of inaccurate information on rechargeable batteries) six times now. It was incredibly dull technical writing and he hadn’t been able to focus at all.

Every line of legal jargon he managed to type was interspersed with his mind screaming.

“Say something!”

Sam had come back to the hospital with a purpose, to be helpful to hold out the olive branch to Castiel and BE there for Jack.

-

But ‘there’ was all he was…

-

He had no idea what to say to Jack. The day before had been easy enough, everything had been one long train wreck fed by the intrinsic emotions that came with serious illness. But now that things had calmed down and everyone especially Jack was not on the verge of emotional collapse? He had no idea what Jack needed from him.

And outside of what Jack explicitly needed or wanted it wasn’t like Sam had a deep well of topics to draw upon for small talk..

-

‘What the hell did Sam have in common with a kid literally half his age?’

“What do you say to your estranged baby brother when at his age one of your main goals was keeping the hell away from him?”

-

It didn’t help that Jack himself seemed to suddenly become incredibly shy, only occasionally peeking at Sam sheepishly when he thought the man wasn’t looking…

“So you like… Star Wars?” Sam finally blurted after twenty long minutes of silence.

Jack blinked at Sam in confusion at the out of the blue question before glancing at the back of his themed phone case and flushing slightly.

“I… Yes?” Jack looked a little unsure.

Sam grabbed onto the subject, “Who’s your favorite character?”

Jack’s phone buzzed in his hand and the kid glanced between Sam and the screen nervously before setting it gingerly aside.

“I think… I think Finn is pretty cool?”

Sam suddenly realized his mistake, he knew absolutely nothing about the new movies, he’d been too busy to get around to watching any of them

“Oh that’s… cool… I used to have a Chewbacca plush when I was a little kid,” Sam tried instead.

There was a long moment with no noise but the passive whirring of one of the machines and a soft cough from Jack.

“Oh?” the teenager said politely.

“Yeah it was pretty cool, original too, apparently those things are worth a few hundred dollars now…”

-

‘What are you babbling about now Sam?’

-

Jack smiled and that made it seem worth it though.

“So do you collect stuff like that or something?” he asked curiously.

“Well no, it was kind of… destroyed?” Sam huffed a little sheepish.

“Destroyed?”

“Yeah… Like I said, I got it when I was a little kid, I chewed on the fabric weapons belt until it tore off and one day I left it outside and it rained so it got all mildew-y,“ Sam quickly explained fumbling for purchase with the Jack’s interest.

Jack pulled a face, "that’s too bad…”

“The final straw though was when Dean called it a moldy sloth and I hit him with it, he tried to take it away from me and it tore raining the carpet with mildew-y stuffing…” Sam chuckled to himself.

“That’s pretty destroyed,” Jack looked mildly grossed out.

Sam missed his cue to let it go.

“Thing was though even after all that I still didn’t want to throw the thing out, I was too attached, So at six I thought it was a great idea to  put this damp mildewed furry thing in a pillowcase, tie the pillowcase shut and hide it in my bed’s box spring…”

Jack’s only response was to stifle another cough in his elbow.

“We didn’t find it again until my bed started smelling like mildew, somehow it spread into the wood of the box spring and the bottom of my mattress, and the wookie… well it was some other kind of furry when my dad finally pulled it out.”

Things were dead quiet and when Sam glanced back up at Jack, he looked uncomfortable, “O-oh?” Jack said diplomatically.

-

‘You… really overshare Sam, for fu-…’

-

“Yeah… it was… nasty, sorry, that was a long time ago.”

Jack’s eyebrows drew down a little and he looked rejected for a moment. Sam wondered if it was something that he’d said.

There was another few minutes of awkward silence before Jack’s phone buzzed again and he glanced nervously between it and Sam.

“Just… go ahead I’ll… “ Sam awkwardly tapped the side of his laptop and just like that they both went back to their designated devices as if nothing had been said.

Sam didn’t know how to talk to Jack, every happy childhood memory he had was from before Jack was born and didn’t include him, and even outside of that, he didn’t really know Jack’s personality, what made him smile, what bothered him… what he loved.

Jack seemed to be cautiously trying to connect too and somehow that made things worse, like they were both going for a high five and Sam kept awkwardly missing.

-

‘Trying to meet in a middle that might not even exist…’

-

Sam quickly went back to his emails and stayed with his head buried there until Castiel got back a while later.

———————————-

“I’m so, so sorry I fell asleep in the parking lot, Where’s Jack?” Castiel asked anxiously before the door even swung closed behind him..

He looked a lot better, his hair still damp but neatly combed and finally dressed down a little bit in a fresh shirt and no jacket.

“He’s fine,” Sam quickly placated, “the nurse just… took him for an X-ray of his arm. I think they wanted to put on a cast or something.”

The man relaxed a little and sighed going back to his spot beside the bed, “right… yes, they… mentioned they might do that today if the swelling was down… I…” He brushed back his hair wearily, “was everything alright while I was gone?”

Sam shrugged, “it was just like I said, nothing bad happened because you stepped away for a few minutes…”

Castiel shot him a look and for a moment Sam worried if he’d crossed a line but the man quickly relaxed again.

“I know you probably think I’m being… paranoid, and I don’t know, maybe I am, or maybe you just can’t understand this, but Jack…” Castiel’s eyes were far away, “I don’t want to take any chances with him…”

Sam felt the same mild discomfort he had for days now, seeing Castiel vulnerable just… felt wrong. The time away had done him good but for every bit less manic he looked now he looked ten times more exhausted.

“You’re right I really don’t get it…” Sam huffed. “I mean the way I see it he’s already in the safest place he could be.”

Castiel snorted sounding unconvinced.

“I but then again I’ve never been a parent so, guess I wouldn’t…” Sam paused, he was coming off all wrong, “I don’t know… what this is like for you.”

Castiel eyed him a little amused, “I didn’t know you even thought of me that way… I… I don’t want you to think I’m some nut but who doesn’t trust modern medicine…”

“I don’t, I’m sure your not…” Sam said quickly.

“It’s just…” Castiel rubbed at his face. “The doctors were doing the best they could when my sister died, sometimes it feels like “the best” still doesn’t mean much …”

Sam paused trying to figure out whether his next words would be welcome or get him another dirty look.

“I mean, I don’t really think things are that bad…”

-

‘Dirty look, it definitely got him a dirty look.’

-

Sam quickly switched gears, “what I mean is, Jack seems better today so maybe the doctors are on the right track. Or better yet this thing, whatever it is, is just sorting itself out…”

“You didn’t hear what the doctor said last night, you don't…” Castiel sighed and rubbed at his forehead.

“Don’t you have a job to get back to… in California?” Castiel muttered wearily.

For a moment, Sam felt affronted and maybe a little hurt, but there was no real malice in Castiel’s words and the message became clear.

-

'Change the subject…’

-

“I asked for some time off…” Sam shrugged, “most of our case prep work is done over the internet nowadays anyway…”

Some of the senior partners hadn’t been too happy about it if Mr. Roman’s rather passive aggressive “I hope your family matter clears up soon,” was anything to go by.

But none of the other junior partners seemed to mind at all…

-

'Probably glad to have a chance to get ahead and prove themselves…’

'Part of Sam wished he still cared, but lately…’

-

Castiel just nodded noncommittally.

“What about you… the high school?” Sam tried, “you’re a teacher right?, how’s that going without you?”

“There’s a substitute…” Cas said simply.

“Oh…” Sam screamed internally, he thought the man wanted a distraction but now it just felt like trying to keep up a conversation with a brick wall.

“I… already had the last few weeks of lessons planned out and review worksheets written up, so while I can’t be there right now,  my classes should be… prepared.” Castiel muttered suddenly, seeming lost in thought, “That’s… one thing I’ve always prided myself on… being prepared…”

Sam caught the implication but decided not to feed into it.

“it’ll be okay…” Sam said simply.

Castiel blinked at him in confusion, “I know they will, Mr. Wyatt is an excellent substitute teacher.”

-

‘Okay maybe Sam was lost…’

-

He snorted further confusing Castiel.

“What?”

“Nothing…” Sam shook his head, “Jack… he… he told me he misses school.

Castiel blinked in surprise, he opened his mouth to ask something but before he could get the words out there was a knock at the door.

"Delivery,” a voice called.

Jack appeared in the doorway being wheeled in by the nurse Meg with a new violently blue cast on his arm and a sheepish look on his face.

“Jack,” Castiel smiled relieved earning him a nervous smile back from Jack.

He seemed much more stable on his feet than the day before when he climbed gingerly out of the wheelchair as the nurse re-hung the IV bags.

“They’re taking him off the oxygen for now,” the nurse said, her tone seemed considerably nicer now that Jack was awake.

-

'She probably had infinitely more patience for sick kids, than antagonistic asshole family members who just act like children…’

-

“It’s getting easier to breathe now,” Jack said brightly, even though his pronouncement was almost immediately broken up by wheezy coughing.

“That’s um… that’s great Jack,” Castiel said gently eyes still distracted back on the nurse.

'With a pang of amusement, Sam caught Jack carefully peeking at his phone beneath his blanket when he thought his uncle wasn’t watching.’

“So um… was everything alright?” Castiel asked the nurse, trying to keep his voice chipper and upbeat.

She blinked at him sardonically, “Nope, his wrist is definitely fractured.”

Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed, “That’s not what I…”

She interrupted, “I know, but that’s all I really have to tell you, everything else is above my pay grade, you’ll have to wait on the doctor for any more papa bear.”

Castiel gave a frustrated huff glancing back at Jack who quickly dropped the covers back down over his phone and glanced around sheepishly.

-

'If Castiel noticed he didn’t say anything.’

-

“You wanna know my professional opinion on this?” the nurse quickly re-drew both men’s attention.

“I don’t know but I feel like you’re going to give it to me either way…” Castiel sighed.

“I can’t guess at what’s going on with your kid, or whether he’ll keep getting better or worse, I could get the hospital sued and lose my job and all that,” Meg shrugged, glancing back over at Jack who was sitting up in bed and playing with his phone “sneakily” under the covers again.

“But…” her voice softened, “he seems to be having a good day… so I’d say try to take today for what it is… and enjoy it.”

Sam wished her saying that did anything to calm the ripples of anxiousness in his stomach, a feeling that must be like waves breaking on the beach in Castiel…

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Dean wished he could say he changed his mind as soon as Sam walked out of the shop, but it took another day and a half…

He’d finished rebuilding the Cuevas’s Jeep’s engine block, changed a fuel filter on some Uni Kid’s car and an engine coil on another’s before he even looked back at his phone again.

No missed calls, no texts. Either everything was fine or Sam also didn’t want to talk to him.

-

'What else was new.’

-

Either way Dean refused to be the first one to call back. He’d meant what he said and if Sam wanted to act all pissy about it that was his business.

But by the next morning his familiar routine tasted like a Kahlua hangover in the back of his throat.

He was already in a bad mood at eight am when Jesse came to pick up his Jeep from the shop.

“I thought you were going to pick up this hunk of junk yesterday…” Dean scowled hands tucked in his pockets a little defensively.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed…” Jesse sounded bemused waving briefly over his shoulder at his husband waiting with the truck running.

“It would have been nice not to be in a time crunch, yeah…” Dean snorted, pulling out a beer from the mini fridge in the garage’s work area.

“Sorry man,” Jesse shrugged guiltily, “I got a call I couldn’t miss. I thought you said you weren’t busy anyway. Something come up?”

“Brother’s in town,” Dean could feel the man eyeing him concerned as he sipped his morning beer.

“You want one?” Dean offered half sarcastically.

“It’s eight Winchester,” Jesse said flatly.

Dean shrugged.

Jesse sighed pulling out his wallet and fishing out an envelope of cash to pay for the repair, “seriously man what’s eating you, 'cause I’ve met Sam and he doesn’t normally get under your skin like this.”

Dean said nothing just took the money and headed towards the office..

Jesse shook his head looking half amused half irritated following him, “look, me and Cesar are meeting with a few friends at Gabe’s to celebrate tonight, maybe come by if you’re feeling less pissy past nine…”

Dean snorted handing over the cash to the teenager behind the desk, “what are you a fourteen-year-old girl? I’m not 'pissy’.”

“You’re one of the pissiest person I’ve ever met Dean Winchester,” Jesse said with a good-natured smile.

“He’s right, you’re like, super pissy…” Claire remarked flatly counting the cash out into the drawer and not meeting her boss’s glare.

Dean snorted tossing Jesse the Jeep keys, “just try the damn engine already…”

Jesse laughed and Dean followed him out to the car, wanting to remain annoyed but significantly distracted.

“What are you celebrating anyway?” Dean finally asked unable to suppress his admittedly childish curiosity.

“Retirement,” Jesse said simply.

Dean blinked in mild confusion, “dude you’re like 36…”

Jesse grinned infuriatingly and climbed into the Jeep cab, “I know right?”

He let the curiosity eat away at Dean as he revved the engine.

It purred like it was fresh off the line and Dean couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at the pleased look on the other man’s face.

“Beautiful, man,” Jesse said patting the side of the door.

Before Dean could ask Jesse if he’d won the lottery or something he pointed to Dean and said simply.

“Nine-Thirty, Gabe’s.”

Dean shook his head, “fine, fine.”

The man smiled, gave a brief thumbs up to his husband in the other vehicle and they both drove off leaving Dean to sit with his extremely mild curiosity and confusion.

Dean rolled his eyes and tried to get back to work.

“Pissy my ass…”

He hated feeling like this.

He had his mother who was doing better then she had been in years teaching mythology at the University and his standoffish little brother who came for Christmas. That was his family.

A house that was payed off in full and the shop he inherited from John that he kept running like a well oiled machine. That was his life.

Dean had made mistakes in the past, lost people in the past

-

Who hadn’t?

-

He’d made his peace with that and moved on.

He’d decided long ago that Jack and Castiel had their own sad chapter in the Winchester’s life but it was long over. Their lives were two completely separate stories now…

-

'Dean was sure the kid couldn’t want the fact he was born because some guy made a mistake, got drunk, and cheated on his wife following him around his whole life… Or at least… he’d get that was a bad thing when he was older.’

-

As far as Dean was concerned they were better off forgetting that shitty night ever happened, and he knew forgetting was the right thing to do but people constantly questioning his every decision wasn’t helping.

Sam’s self-righteous huffing and puffing.

Jesse’s… amusement.

Castiel’s confusion over the phone.

-

'Don’t act like you care all of a sudden…’

Things were so much simpler when there was just vague dislike and mistrust between the two of them…

-

Why was he even worried about this? Castiel said the kid was doing better, that should be the end of it.

If Dean saw someone hit by a car he’d try to help, call 911, stay by their side and keep them calm until the ambulance came.

-

'He was a decent man, despite what Sam might think.’

-

What Dean wouldn’t do was follow them around the accident victim for the next six months and bludgeon and prod their family for information and acknowledgment.

-

Jack and Castiel weren’t family.

Not really.

-

Jack was blood sure, but he was blood like a great aunt who lived six states away who nobody talked to for some stupid reason no one remembered, why bring up old shit?

There was too much baggage and bitterness.

Better to leave the great dam of 2000’s infidelity up between Kansas and Indiana as a monument to the shitty past rather than go picking at it and have all the crap pour out.

-

‘Dean felt dangerously close to drowning in that bitterness already.’

-

If Sam wanted to swing an ax at that himself (like the lumberjack in business casual he looked like) Sam could deal with the resulting flood himself.

He repeated the last thought to himself until he finished up for the day, leaving Claire to lock up the building.

He was of half a mind to ignore Jesse’s offer and just head home, but…

-

He didn’t think the empty house would do anything to calm his mind and drinking alone was just sad.

-

“Screw it,” He turned at the first red light and headed towards Gabe’s.

He set his phone to silent and decided to act as if that corner of his life didn’t exist for the evening.

He was spotted as soon as he entered the Gabe’s, Cesar grinning at him and gesturing him over to the little group at the bar.

“Hey Dean, sit, first round’s on us,” Jesse called from around his husband.

It was a little bit to Cheers-y for comfort but Dean didn’t fight it sighing and sidling up to the bar.

“Whiskey, neat…” Dean ordered gruffly.

Gabe poured the whiskey one eyebrow slightly raised, “well you’re awful chipper today Deano.”

“Yeah well I don’t even know what we’re supposed to be celebrating yet so…” Dean toasted in Jesse’s general direction smile not reaching his eyes “What’s the party for?”

“New beginnings,” Jesse smiled lifting up his own glass. “Finally bought the property of our dreams.”

Dean blinked, “yeah? How’d you swing that?”

“Finally sold the old shop…” Cesar said smiling at Jesse proudly.

Dean blinked, feeling a slightly bitter pang of nostalgia. He could remember long summers going out with friends and dates to rent kayaks and buy ice cream from Jesse’s family’s old rental shack by Clinton lake.

“Business finally get that bad?” Dean felt how rude the words were in his mouth and cringed internally, but Jesse just snorted and smiled.

“Just the opposite actually, it’s shaping up to be one of the biggest tourist seasons yet…”

“So… going out on a high then?” Dean took another swig of his whiskey.

“Something like that,” Jesse shrugged.

“The Gallager kid turned 25 and he’s been working there since he was 16, we figured he was probably ready to take over,” Cesar explained.

“Wait time out,“ Gabe cut into the conversation brandishing his bar rag. "Dude hasn’t your family been running that place since most of the people in the old folks home were in diapers the first time?”

“That’s the thing though, it’s always been my family’s thing,” Jesse said diplomatically, “I only actually took over because my brother was gone, my grandpa in fact had some strong opinions on ‘people like me’.” Jesse snorted, “honestly I think I only stayed so long out of spite, that and I promised mom… I always meant to let the place go when I found someone to take care of it. It was never what I dreamed about doing…”

“Sam was the same way, never wanted to work at the shop…" Dean huffed a laugh, “He never could get along with dad… so it would have been fucking weird if he stayed.”

-

John had been angry; not so much at Sam wanting to go his own way but just… how vehemently against staying Sam had been. “You just can’t wait to leave your family behind can you?”

“Don’t you dare, you don’t get to say that to me, not you!” Sam spat back.

-

“Why wallow in the shitty past when you can just move on…” Dean muttered coming back to himself in the bar.

Jesse turned his glass in his hands looking pensive, “Sometimes it felt like that… but no that’s not really it.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose.

Jesse quickly explained, “I mean yeah there was a lot of shit there, but I grew up around that old shack, me and my brother worked there pretty much every summer after we were old enough to see over the counter…”

Dean whiskey tasted ashy in his mouth, he remembered Jesse’s big brother, he’d always been the cool older teen who’d give you an extra half scoop of ice cream when “the boss” wasn’t looking.

-

He’d drowned on a fishing trip with his younger brother when Dean was in junior high…

-

Jesse shrugged continuing where he left off, “why would I let one shithead ruin all of that?”

Dean hummed vaguely still feeling a little lost, “but you’re still giving it up now?”

Jesse nodded glancing toward Cesar, “Don’t get me wrong, if my brother was still alive… if I still had family interested in running the place maybe I wouldn’t've… For a long time I thought that was going to be my whole life.”

Cesar gently squeezed his husband’s hand and Dean felt a pang of emotion he pushed away before he could identify it.

Jesse continued, “But I have a family now and I… I just… can’t live in the past anymore.”

Dean felt more lost than ever, “Makes sense I guess, why literally live in all the painful bullshit when you have something better…”

Cesar blinked at Dean, “seriously dude why so dark?”

Dean bit back the need to find a smarmy way to tell his friends it was none of their damn business, “Just shitty family stuff…”

“Your brother?” Jesse asked.

Dean snorted, “you could say that…” he knocked back the rest of his glass. “I just don’t get that kid anymore…”

“He do something stupid?” Jesse asked.

“He’s an adult, he can do what he wants,” Dean snorted and tried to get Gabe’s attention for a second whiskey, “It’s not like we really even talk much anymore, who am I to keep him from shoving his foot up his own ass…”

“Yeah, that’s real convincing…” Jesse shook his head bemused.

Dean hurumphed and muttered a thanks to Gabe who finally came over.

“Are you two still on the same crap from a few days ago?” Gabe asked pouring the second glass.

Jesse and Cesar’s ears perked up and even Gabe’s weird brother Gadreel was watching him from across the room. Dean wondered darkly if there was any privacy left in this town.

“Yeah my own, personal, crap,” Dean said pointedly.

Gabe held up his hands in mock surrender, “okay, okay, fine, don’t talk about it, it’s just seems like whatever "it” is seems to be eating you an awful lot…"

“Yeah well Sam has that effect, he does dumb shit and you worry about him, over and over until it’s just too much and…” Dean wrapped his knuckles on the table, “maybe you have it right and it’s time to cut him loose, move on…”

Jesse pulled a face, “that’s not what I meant at all…”

“Yeah well then what do you mean, because I’m getting tired of guessing,” Dean barked.

Jesse had the courtesy not to smirk at him.

“My point is… I don’t really know Sammy haven’t seen him since he was sixteen but… make sure shutting him out is what you really want, and not just some petty shit.”

It dug like a knife in Dean’s gut, “You’re right you don’t know shit…” Dean muttered taking a swig from his glass…

Jesse smiled more than a little forlornly, “all I do know is, having lost him, if I had a second chance with my brother…” he trailed off, “Make absolutely sure you’re ready to give up your chances at this future, when you’re planning on leaving behind your past…”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Oof, sorry it took me so long to get back, it’s been a crazy few months and it’s been a struggle to get back to my usual writing routine with everything going on. Hopefully, things will be better now.

[setaripendragon]

Never Simple - Chapter 5

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] Okay, so, I promise this is a fix-it, but... this is also... kind of... worse than canon? =D? At least, it felt worse than canon when I was writing it -shrugs- Um, trigger warnings for... the standard venom-style warnings of attempted cannibalism and dubious-consent possessions, and then also warnings for dead alien babies, a dead dog, mostly off-screen reproductive slavery, and Tucker. Tucker gets his own warning because, obviously. Please proceed with caution if any of those things might upset you. I tried not to pull my punches with this one, so... yeah.

One week drifted by, and then two. Ed and Al spent most of their time either in the library, or outside playing with Nina and Alexander, because there wasn’t much that could keep Ed inside besides the library. He couldn’t find Tucker’s notes anywhere, so he was pretty sure the man had lied about them being in the library. Understandable, if annoying, given what Ed suspected was in those notes.

Shouldn’t you recognise him, if he did free one of the things from the gate? He had asked Truth on their second day at Tucker’s.

You all taste the same, in the end. Truth had replied, which was creepy, and Ed had ignored it for the rest of the day as he tried not to think about that. Not that it had much impact on Truth, who was being disturbingly quiet during their stay at Tucker’s house. It was preoccupied, Ed supposed, with the way the whole place just felt slightly wrong.

It was something of a relief to Ed that Tucker had meant it when he said he’d be busy. They barely saw the man except for dinner, and sometimes not even then. The times when they did see him were at least made less awkward by the way Nina chattered happily away about her day, apparently oblivious to the heightened tension that Ed felt whenever Tucker was around.

He’d told Al about what he suspected was the truth behind Tucker’s talking chimera, and Al had been appropriately horrified, but he was better at feigning politeness than Ed, who resorted, mostly, to reading at the dinner table in an effort to avoid having to talk to Tucker.

Then there were Al’s doctor’s appointments, which invariably concluded with the answer ‘we have no idea’ that frustrated Ed to the point of rage. Al was advised repeatedly to return for more tests, but those would have to wait until after Ed made State Alchemist and had the money to burn. So instead, Ed just made sure Al rested as much as he needed to and didn’t do anything too risky for his health, and tried not to worry himself sick as well. It wasn’t easy.

“I can get a glass of water by myself, Brother!” Al snapped at him in the middle of the night when Ed had woken to Al’s coughing and offered to accompany him to get something to drink to soothe his throat. Ed harrumphed, but didn’t push, just flopping back down and scowling at the ceiling as Al tiptoed out of their room.

By the time Al got back, Ed had very nearly worked himself into a proper snit, but one look at Al’s face in the gloom made him forget all about being annoyed with his brother. “Nina’s not in her bed.” Al told him without beating around the bush. “I stuck my head in, just to check on her, on my way back, but she wasn’t there.”

Ed clambered out of bed. “And she wasn’t in the bathroom?” He checked, even though it was obvious she hadn’t been. Al shook his head. “Kitchen?”

They went and checked, but the house was entirely still and dark. “Do you think… Maybe she just had a nightmare and went to Mr Tucker’s room?” Al suggested, wringing his hands together. They checked that, too. It was awkward to be knocking on Tucker’s bedroom door in the middle of the night, but Ed figured if Nina was there, they’d be forgiven, and if she wasn’t, then Tucker would probably want to know anyway.

But there was no answer. Impatient and more worried than he wanted to admit to, Ed opened the door. The room beyond was empty. Ed felt very cold, all of a sudden. Because if Nina had gone looking for her dad, and found the room empty just like Ed and Al had, he knew exactly where she’d look next. And what she’d find down there would be either human experimentation, or a monster that ate people.

Ed whipped around, met Al’s gaze, and knew they were thinking the same thing. They bolted for the stairs. They ran all the way down to the ground floor, and then pelted for the door that led down to the basement, where Tucker’s lab was. Those stairs were a lot less grand than the rest of the stairs in the house, just plain simple wood, just barely wide enough for two people to pass each other on them, and the further down them they went, the more ill Ed felt. It was a weird, shaky wrongness, like there were insects under his skin, gnawing at his bones. And that mental image was not helping.

Truth was echoing the feeling, though, touched with an edge of pain that Ed felt like a phantom ache, although it wasn’t centered anywhere, because Truth wasn’t really centered anywhere inside him. He ignored it, though, pushed it aside to shove open the door at the bottom of the stairs, disregarding all of Tucker’s instructions that they must knock before coming into the lab.

For a single heartbeat, Ed felt relief. Nina was there, kneeling on the floor and leaning forwards to peer at something, her dad crouched next to her and smiling down at her. And then Truth recoiled inside him, such a visceral reaction that Ed thought they might be about to throw up, and he finally noticed the horror show lining the walls.

At first glance, they looked like those dinky little toy plasma globes that some alchemist had made a fortune off selling as toys to kids. But then Ed realised that where the electrode should have been, there was something moving, a little pulsating, twitching orb of biological matter. Familiar-looking biological matter. And there were dozens of them on the shelves lining the walls of Tucker’s lab.

Grief ricochetted through Ed, and it took him several long seconds to realise it was Truth’s, not his own. Truth didn’t have words in the face of it, but Ed didn’t need them to realise that, even though they appeared to be moving, the creatures inside those jars had to be dead. How? What-? Ed tried to ask, but he could barely manage coherence even inside his own head. Truth was no better. All Ed got from it was a tangled sense of cages and torture and pointless, senseless death and the building urge to scream.

“Big brother!” Nina called, the sweet, innocent enthusiasm of her voice rattling through Ed like a blow. Slowly, Ed managed to turn his gaze back to her, but flinched when he realised that Tucker, too, had turned to look at him. Howling fury broke through him, and he gritted his teeth on it, curled his hands into shaking fists and struggled, desperately, to understand. “Big brother, come look! Alexander’s having babies!”

Stillness.

Ed was simply confused, because Alexander was very definitely a boy dog, not a girl dog, but Truth felt like a predator, frozen and tense like an alley cat at the sound of a slamming door. There was a terrible sense of understanding beginning to creep through Truth, but Ed couldn’t follow it, couldn’t keep up with whatever understanding that bizarre little statement of Nina’s had engendered.

“Babies, Nina?” Al asked, just as confused and wary as Ed felt, but with none of the horror. He didn’t have any real way of understanding what he was seeing, after all. He edged a little further into the lab, and Ed threw his arm out to keep Al from passing him. “Brother?” Al murmured, too quietly for anyone else to hear, especially not with the barely-audible hum of the plasma cages on the walls. A trickle of understanding filtered through to Ed as the thought passed through his mind. Truth had told him, hadn’t it, that fire was dangerous to its kind, and fire was a type of plasma.

“Come and see!” Nina insisted. As though he were a puppet on strings, Ed reluctantly jerked forwards, one step, two, another, and then he could see Alexander lying on a rug on the floor in front of Nina and Tucker. At least, he assumed it was Alexander, because it was vaguely dog-shaped, but there wasn’t a hint of white fur in sight, just a writhing mass of biological ooze in various shades and hues.

Between one blink and the next, Ed was no longer in Tucker’s lab, looking down at what was – should have been – used to be – Alexander, but instead standing in a field of white nothingness looking into a great stone archway filled to the brim with viscera reaching out tendrils in an attempt to catch him and drag him in to join them, to be consumed. Truth’s voice echoed in his ears; “I thought this was what you wanted, you arrogant little shit.” and he was coming apart, coming undone, dissolving on the spot into nothing more than soup, tiny little pieces of him plucked off one at a time-

Ed threw up. He gasped and gagged and heaved until his eyes were streaming involuntary tears and all he could taste was stomach acid, which only wound the panic tighter, every inch of him convinced that he was being turned inside out for the sadistic amusement of the voice that lived in his head. “-ther?! Brother!”

“Al-!” Ed gasped out, reaching a hand out in a flailing motion until another hand caught his and squeezed. It helped dial some of the terror back, allowing Ed to actually begin to breathe properly again, although his head swooped in ways that told him he’d probably been hyperventilating a moment before. He gripped Al’s hand as tight as he could and tried to pull himself together.

“Big brother? Are you okay?” Nina asked.

“Fine.” Ed rasped, even though it was a complete, stinking lie. “Fine, just…” He waved a hand vaguely in the direction of Alexander while very carefully not looking at him again, but didn’t elaborate. He wasn’t sure he could without throwing up again.

“It is a little bit gross.” Nina agreed carefully. “But they’re really pretty, too.” She assured him, so earnest that Ed forced himself to bite back the words that wanted to spill past his lips.

“They really are beautiful, aren’t they?” Tucker agreed, his voice suffused with something that might have been joy, except there was an edge to it that Ed found deeply disturbing. Or maybe that was just the fact that he was calling blobs of writhing viscera ‘beautiful’. Truth surged inside him, trying to pull at Ed’s body, trying to make him go over there and kill Tucker, but Ed didn’t even have to fight to keep his feet firmly where they were. He wasn’t going one step closer to whatever Tucker had turned Alexander into for all the books in Amestris.

Al tugged Ed around, pulled him into an almost-hug, and checked his temperature. If Ed hadn’t been trying to keep his breathing steady, he might have laughed. “Are you sure you’re alright, Brother?” Al asked quietly, a muted version of the panic swimming in Ed’s veins showing in his eyes.

Ed opened his mouth, struggling to find words to explain, or deflect, or something, when he was distracted by Tucker. “I’m sure Edward will be alright once he gets over the shock. Here, Nina.” He said, soothing and warm. “Do you want to hold one?”

“Can I?!”

Time felt like it had turned to molasses as Ed turned, as fast as he could but too slow, too slow, and lurched forwards. He didn’t want to, didn’t want to be here in this awful room, didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see, but that was his little sister reaching out to cup a monster in her hands. He couldn’t keep Al from getting hurt, couldn’t save him from whatever Truth had done to him in those twenty-four hours before Ed had stepped up to accept responsibility, but maybe he could save Nina, if he could just- just reach her in time-!

“NO!” He shouted, futilely, as Nina’s fingertips touched the slick yellow-brown mass and it began to crawl up her fingers like a swarm of insects, coating her arm and her shoulder and her neck and her chest and her face as she turned towards Ed at the sound of his shout. Between one heartbeat and the next, Nina’s wide-eyed, startled expression was hidden behind a mask of mottled yellow and brown, with a mouth full of shark teeth splitting into a wide, gaping snarl.

“H-hun-gry-!” The thing possessing Nina stammered out, as though its mouth didn’t quite know how to shape the word.

Ed’s whole body threatened to lock up in terror, the memory of a different beloved face being swallowed up behind blue, instead of yellow, surging to the fore of his mind and leaving him paralysed. Truth surged again, and this time, Ed had no willpower to spare fighting it off, no conviction strong enough to maintain control. Truth brought their hands together while twisting out of the way of Nina’s – not Nina’s – lunge, leaving those jaws to snap shut on nothing but air. As palm met palm, an array bloomed to life in Ed’s mind, and even though he’d never seen anything remotely like it before, he still, somehow, knew it down to his bones.

It was deceptively simple, little more than a pentagram inside a circle, with another circle just within the first, and a bisected circle over the heart of the pentagram. Five little nodes within the two outer circles between the points of the pentagram held the symbols for the four different states of matter and, in the one at the bottom, a pair of curved lines with circles at either end. Dissolution of the physical mass into a contained state between the fabric of the world.

Such a simple array, for something so terrible. Truth pulled their hands apart just in time to catch hold of the thing that wasn’t Nina as it tried to bite them again. The moment skin touched not-skin, alchemical energy lit the room, red-purple sparks crackling through the air as the thing that wasn’t Nina wailed. Ed would have flinched if he’d been in control of his body, because it sounded exactly like a baby’s cry, if the cry had been coming from underwater. Yellow-brown ooze melted away, breaking apart and disappearing into the air like cinders from a bonfire, leaving behind Nina’s small, trembling form in Ed’s arms.

Ed collapsed to his knees, pulled her close, and pressed his face into her hair, trying not to cry, not sure if it was himself, or Truth, that most felt like weeping. You sent it to the gate, didn’t you? He thought tiredly.

Yes. Truth confirmed.

Nina was right, wasn’t she, when she called them babies? It couldn’t even talk properly.

…Yes.

Ed felt acid rise in the back of his throat, and he swallowed convulsively. Now was not the time to throw up again. That’s NOT RIGHT! He insisted, clutching Nina even closer. She was making tiny wounded noises, frightened noises and clutching at the front of his pyjamas.

There was nothing else to be done. Truth replied, achingly quiet in the wake of Ed’s mental shout. There is no other way to stop us.

It was a BABY! Ed thought desperately. It didn’t know any better!

That wouldn’t have made you any less eaten if we’d done nothing! Truth retorted, with equally furious desperation. Ed couldn’t summon up words in the face of that, couldn’t think in linear sentences when all he felt like doing was screaming, because that had been a brand new sentient creature that was being punished for nothing more than wanting to live.

“What did you do? How did you do that?!” Tucker demanded, bringing the rest of the world crashing back into Ed’s awareness. Ed lifted his head to glare at the man, a sick, hot fury flooding through him. Tucker’s eyebrows flew up as if Ed’s hatred had actually startled him. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, adjusting his glasses and making them flash in the eerie light of the prisons full of corpses lining the walls. “If you know enough about these things to be able to destroy one of them, then you must have done the same thing I did.”

“Don’t-” Ed snarled, so full of fury and disgust that his voice cracked on the word. “-put me on the same level as you.”

“No?” Tucker challenged, smiling faintly. “But we are the same, Edward, we both committed the same taboo. We looked at the human body and thought we could improve upon it, didn’t we? Who was it, that you tried to pull apart to see how they worked?” He wondered, mildly, curiously, like this was an intellectual debate in a lecture hall, not-

It would be easy to answer that question, to try to explain that he had only been trying to help, but a realisation dawned on him that thoroughly distracts him. “Your wife didn’t just up and leave one day, did she?” He asked hollowly. Nina went very still in his arms.

Tucker sighed, slow and deep. “No. I needed a breakthrough. I was so close to making a chimera that would astound the military, and then I could keep her and Nina in the life they deserve, I just needed to understand, and-” Tucker cut himself off, head snapping around.

Ed followed his gaze to Alexander. Or what had once been Alexander. Because the largest of the things bubbling out from under Alexander’s fur was peeling itself free, an oozing mass of red-streaked black stretching and creeping across the floor leaving only bare tendrils behind it attached to the raw and bloody mess that was all that was left of Alexander. Ed made sure to keep one hand curled around Nina’s head, keeping her face pressed to his chest so she couldn’t see that little piece of hell.

Tucker clicked his tongue, reached out and picked up a clear glass jar. Then he stooped and scooped the majority of the black ooze into the jar, and Ed abruptly realised what it was. His gut swooped, and he tried to stand, tried to stop him, but he had to untangle himself from Nina first, and by the time he’d managed to get to his feet, Tucker was already screwing on the lid – the base – and pressing a finger to the array etched into it.

There was a hiss, and then the gasses in the outer bulb of the jar ionised, and lightning began to dance through it. The creature within shrieked, and retreated to the inner bulb, coiling in and in and in on itself in an attempt to escape the plasma. “There.” Tucker said, satisfied, holding the jar up to peer inside with a terrible, beatific smile on his face. “It took me a long time to figure it out, you know, but plasma is anathema to them. I’m still not quite sure why.” Tucker explained, over the shrieking that still hadn’t stopped. “But at least, like this, they can’t eat anyone.”

Ed wanted to scream. “You know the rest of them are dead, right? That’s why they’re not eating. Because they’re dead.” He didn’t know quite how he knew that, but he did. Truth’s knowledge, he supposed, but he’d known it from the moment he laid eyes on them, and now, seeing the live one in the jar in Tucker’s hand, he could see the difference in the way they moved. The one in Tucker’s jar looked alive, responsive, shying away from the plasma in the outer bulb. The ones in the jars on the walls were just… twitching.

Tucker blinked rapidly at him, startled. “But they’re moving.” He said dumbly.

“Automatic response. It’s their version of fucking post-mortem muscle spasms.” Ed snarled.

Tucker pushed his glasses up his nose and set the jar negligently aside on his desk. “Fascinating. How do you kn-” He got no further, however, because in that moment, Alexander’s corpse had staggered upright and lurched for Tucker. Half its muzzle was missing, fur and skin and muscle devoured all along the left side of its body, still dripping blood here and there even as Ed saw the edges of the worst wounds beginning to close over, muscles knitting back together to enable proper movement.

It’s jaws snapped shut on air as Tucker jerked backwards with a curse. “No! Daddy!” Nina yelled, high and desperate, and Ed flung an arm out in panic, but Nina just ducked under it and flung herself between her father and the monster trying to eat him. She looked so horribly pale in the strange light of the lab, eyes far too wide and a little unfocused. Not really processing what she was seeing, just acting on instinct.

Ed and Truth moved in concert, so harmonised in their intent to save Nina that the edges of who was doing what blurred. The world turned clear and utterly predictable, and they could taste the exact chemical composition of the air, could hear the vibrations of heartbeats, could feel the heat of every living thing in the room. The cages lining the wall screeched against their senses, the pulsing wrongness of the plasma an affront, but ignorable.

They crashed into Alexander mid-leap, sending him careening off-course to hit the ground on his side with a dull, wet thud. The hands that came up into their oddly grainy and yet inexplicably clear line of sight were not the tanned, ink-stained ones Ed expected. They were a perfect stark white, too smooth and agile to look anything other than uncanny, and when they pressed together, that same array sprang into their mind, perfectly formed and perfectly clear.

No. Ed said, only it didn’t come out of his mouth like he intended it to. Their hands did freeze, though, pressed together as if in prayer.

There is nothing else we can do! Truth snarled at him.

This is wrong. There has to be a better way! Ed insisted. The thing riding in Alexander’s corpse staggered to its feet and attacked them. They grabbed it around the throat, but not before it got close enough to sink its teeth into their leg, tearing a chunk out of them. Shock rippled through Ed, but the pain he was expecting never came. Just a dull sort of ache, a knowledge of loss, even as white bubbled up to fill the gap until it was as smooth as ever, as though nothing had happened.

The thing in Alexander snarled using his vocal chords, head twisted at an awkward angle, and tried to mimic them, patches of dark blue viscera oozing out of flayed skin and exposed muscle. You had best come up with your ‘better way’ fast, arrogant little alchemist, before it eats more of us than we can replenish. Truth sneered at him.

Tell it to stop? Ed suggested

Truth very clearly imagined a sensation of rolling eyes at Ed, but obliged. “That is enough, little one. These people are not food.” It commanded. The thing riding around in Alexander’s corpse snarled, and lunged again. Well? Any other bright ideas? Truth challenged while grappling with the dog.

Okay, just… can’t we just get it out of Alexander for now? Ed wondered.

And what? Put it in one of Tucker’s jars?! Truth retorted, making Ed flinch internally.

No! Of course not! Ed protested, but he didn’t have any other answers. Truth snarled wordlessly, and dug white fingers through the largest bubbling, oozing patch of speckled blue ooze. Alexander began to twist and writhe, splattering blood and strips of torn flesh everywhere as the thing inside him screeched. Truth plunged their other hand into Alexander’s body, and pulled, scooping alien mass out of mortal flesh at a molecular level with every pass of their fingers. A blue-black speckled mass came out in handfuls, trailing sticky threads back to Alexander’s body, which staggered dizzily, and then collapsed in a lifeless heap as Truth hauled another fistful, and then another into a small bundle that it could just about hold between both hands.

With Truth holding it contained like that, it was about the size of a large apple, if large apples squirmed and writhed and attempted to ooze out of the gaps between your fingers at every opportunity. “You’re not going anywhere, little one.” Truth chided. “Stop.”

The little blue blob made a sound kind of like a growl.

A dart of movement, a flash of heat passing by distracted them, and they looked up to see a mass of little red tentacles pounce on what was left of Alexander’s corpse and begin devouring it head first. It’s like herding cats. Truth thought in exasperation.

Ed snickered a little hysterically, and it came out warped and reverberating, silencing him abruptly when he heard it. It’s fine. At least- He felt sick, but he could prioritise, right now. At least Alexander is already dead. It’s fine. He insisted.

Truth accepted that without a word. Well? What are we to do with this little one, if we’re not to send it to the gate where it can be safely contained among its kin?

Ed faltered. I don’t… I don’t know. Ed admitted.

While you puzzle it out, do recall that we’re not going to be able to hold on to this one forever. Truth snapped. Not that Ed needed the reminder. It was like trying to hold on to a greased eel that was also capable of shape-shifting, and the only reason they’d managed it so far was because there were two of them, and Truth could focus on holding onto the thing which left Ed free to figure out what to do with it.

There was only one potential solution that came to him, but it wasn’t actually a good idea. It relied so heavily on chance, and it would only make things worse if it failed, and Ed honestly didn’t know if he liked it any better than the other options, let alone how he would convince Truth to give it a go. I’m surprised it hasn’t tried to bite our fingers off yet. He thought absently, a paltry attempt to distract himself from picking between a bunch of bad options.

We cannot, not while we are without a host. Truth informed him, projecting to Ed the sensation of passing through food instead of absorbing it and being left only with the phantom sensation of satisfaction that only made the hunger more acute. That seemed odd, to Ed, because he’d just seen-

The bottom dropped out of Ed’s stomach. It shouldn’t have been possible, given how many times already he’d felt the whole world give out on him just this evening, but apparently, there was still enough horror left in him for this. Because what he had taken for just another formless oozing shape wasn’t.

He turned their attention back towards Alexander, and the thing gnawing on his spine. That was a tiny human shape, creamy yellow limbs streaked with rust red like tiger stripes that matched the mass of tentacles spilling out of their head and back like a deranged facsimile of hair. It seemed to notice the sudden stillness, and looked around to stare at them with perfectly round, perfectly blank eyes set in a face that was uncanny in how human it wasn’t. That- That was Nina.

Ed staggered, head full of static. He was aware, on some level, of the world around him continuing to exist, of Nina and something else staring at him through that tangled mass of red tendrils, but he had disengaged. It was too much. Too many horrors one on top of the other, and he couldn’t cope.

There was red staining the teeth that he could see in Nina’s mouth. Blood. Because the thing inside her had made her eat her only friend, at least until Ed and Al had come along. There was a scream building in Ed’s throat that couldn’t escape because it wasn’t his own throat right now. What must they look like, right now, two alien monsters staring at each other across a bloody, corpse-filled laboratory?

No! Focus, Ed! Truth yelled as it moved their body, diving to catch- Oh, Ed had dropped the other one, the blue one, let it slip through his fingers while he was too busy contemplating whether Nina was going to try and eat him next, just like this one had. Stupid. But his head was full of static, a scream that he couldn’t voice, and he couldn’t focus.

Their clumsy grab missed, and the blue creature oozed across the floorboards like a mould. Either snap out of it and focus or let me do it! Truth commanded, and Ed… Ed relinquished control. He willingly took a back seat in his own mind, retreating from the reality of everything that had happened that evening. Truth’s movements became suddenly much swifter, much more fluid.

And when Tucker, dark speckled blue ooze crawling across face in a horrifying echo of the worst day of Ed’s life, reached for Nina, Truth was able to get between them, was able to knock Tucker’s feet out from under him and drop to one knee, hands coming together again with that array filling their mind. A scythe made of living biomass sliced clean through their arm, and Truth cursed as their remaining hand shot out to grab at the arm the scythe had grown out of, slamming it to the floor and pinning it there with three little growths like spears out of their palm.

The creature controlling Tucker reared up off the floor, teeth bared, and Truth slammed it back down onto the floor with a foot on its neck, and once again brought their hands – one of them newly regrown – together before slamming them down onto Tucker’s blue-covered chest. The creature dissolved into the air with a wail like an infant, peeling away from Tucker in bits and pieces, leaving just the man behind.

“No-!” He rasped, free hand rising in an attempt to grab at the disintegrating bits of biological matter, and Ed came back to himself with a snap. Fury subsumed his shock, and he fisted their hands in Tucker’s shirt, clenching them tight with the cresting rage before the tidal wave broke over him and he lifted one fist to bring it crashing back down into Tucker’s face. It was packed with enough power to split the skin over Tucker’s cheekbone, and Ed distantly thought he ought to be surprised by that, but he wasn’t. This wasn’t quite his body anymore. It was theirs, Ed’s and Truth’s, and Truth’s body was flexible. Truth’s body could be shaped to pack one hell of a punch.

Some part of Ed wanted to shout, to call Tucker every awful name under the sun, but he was too furious for words. Furious that even though it had tried to make him eat his own daughter, Tucker had still been more concerned about losing his fucking research opportunity or whatever than his own child. Furious that he hadn’t even had the strength of will to stop the thing possessing him from trying to eat Nina. Furious that Ed’s mum, who had done that, who had fought that hard just for him, was dead, while this man got to live. Furious that he was only alive because he’d forced Ed to condemn another ignorant child to an eternal prison to save lives that Tucker had endangered in the first place.

Something caught hold of their wrist, and they whipped around to see round, blank white eyes staring at them from out of a cream-yellow face surrounded by rust-red tendrils, a handful of which were wound tight about Ed and Truth’s wrist. “St-top.” The creature possessing Nina said. Sorrow so acute it felt like agony welled up in Ed and Truth in tandem, and even though it felt awful, Ed didn’t protest when Truth brought their hands together one more time. “Stop. Don’t- h-hurt Da-ddy.”

Shit, stop! Ed shouted, managing to freeze their hands inches away from the creature’s shoulders.

We can’t just- Truth began, frustration welling up inside it and throwing them, once again, out of sync. Ed made a distracted mental note to work on that.

Do babies of your species even understand the concept of dads? Ed thought furiously, and Truth faltered. With a surge of triumph, Ed shoved his way forward, not-so-politely requesting that Truth back the fuck down. Truth went with nothing more than a grumble, retreating into Ed’s skin and leaving him more or less in control of his own body again. “Nina?” Ed asked softly, and the creatures eyes seemed to widen slightly.

“Ed-ward-?” The thing that both was and wasn’t Nina asked.

“Yeah.” Ed confirmed, mustering up a smile from somewhere. “Yeah, it’s me, Nina.”

“Ni-na…” The thing said, head tipping sideways, confused. Ed’s heart hurt. “Nina wa-ants… Don’t h-hurt Da-addy. Big bro-ther. P-ple-ease?”

“Okay.” Ed choked out. “Okay, I promise. I won’t- I won’t hurt your dad. Nina, I swear.” He rambled, tentatively reaching out and touching the side of the creature’s face, of Nina’s face. The texture of the thing’s not-skin was nauseating. Slick and smooth and warm, trying just a bit too hard to feel like flesh, so all it really felt like was wrong. It let out a sigh, and slumped, head drooping and tendrils unwinding from Ed’s wrist. “Hey, Nina?” Ed asked softly. “Do you think- do you think your new… friend could- could go back inside, now?”

Not-Nina lifted their head again to look at him. “In-side?” They asked.

Truth helpfully bubbled out over one arm for Ed to show them, and then sank slowly back under the skin. “Like that, see?” Ed offered. Slowly, without a word, the other one mimicked Truth, disappearing in patches as it figured out how to pull itself inward and tuck itself away inside a human host. He almost wanted to laugh, because maybe he couldn’t have helped all of them, but at least this time he wasn’t going to have to hurt a child.

Nina sat there, swaying and blinking blearily for a moment before she squinted up at Ed. “Big brother?” She asked in broken little whisper that was still worlds more comforting than the broken, rough stammer of the thing inside her. Ed pulled her into a tight hug that she returned with equal fervour, and he screwed his eyes shut when he felt her shake with little, hiccuping sobs.

“I’m sorry, Nina.” Ed breathed. “I’m so sorry. You’re okay. It’s okay.” He promised, even though he wasn’t entirely sure it was. His little litany of reassurance faltered, though, when he felt Nina go stiff as a board in his arms. He drew back, wary, afraid that the thing possessing her was going to try and take over again, but no, Nina still looked like herself. She was staring blankly over Ed’s shoulder with eyes gone wide and a face so pale Ed was worried she was going to pass out.

He looked around to see what had put that look on her face, and froze as well. The whole lab was splattered with blood and gore, and there, lying like a macabre centerpiece in the middle of the floor, was the mangled, headless remains of Alexander’s corpse.

Nina screamed.

[lihikainanea]

I...I may re-write this at some point. Because I hate it. Let’s be clear, I just want these two to bang each other’s brains out again like right the fuck now but I feel like I had to ~set it up~ properly and just...look, this what you get when a horndog of an author with 2987548695659 kink buttons is in A Mood(TM) to get all of them SLAMMED AT ONCE but instead has to write ~fluff~ because it’s what makes sense for the story right now. If you need me, I’ll be in my little corner flipping this story off while my kink buttons very much do not get slammed. Fuck you BFF!Bill. I'm so mad at you right now.

Part 1 + 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Credit my rage to @ill-skillsgard and that nani who ruined my life with the original ask in Parts 1+2 there.

I dunno how many parts left I got to this, the part below really discouraged me. I  feel like I got carried away in their story line and I’m all self-conscious about it now because I really just....I want to write all the sexy times. That’s it. I liked the shorter drabbles of these two that I did more towards the beginning. 

BLERGH, shut up Leilani. 

***

In hindsight, the ice cream was a terrible mistake. 

To your credit, it had taken awhile for things to get awkward. A good few weeks. And to Bill’s credit, he really made it near impossible to be awkward around him.The awkwardness had littered your friendship to varying degrees, but no matter how mortifying the events were, Bill just never seemed plussed about any of it. There had been the time he had gotten food poisoning on a camping trip in the woods, pitifully crawling his way on all fours to your tent in the middle of the night. You had woken up to what you thought was a wounded animal, unzipping your tent and seeing Bill’s curled up form on the ground in front of you. It had taken over an hour to help him crawl just a hundred feet to the communal washrooms, where you stayed with him on the floor for the entire night. It was nothing short of contortion, the way he folded his large body in on himself in the tiny stall, groaning in pain and discomfort. Your heart bled for him that night, he was so sick he had gone grey and the only thing you could do to help was stroke his soaked back and keep wetting paper towels to hold on his neck while he wretched. He had eventually passed out, thunking his head hard right onto your chest, and in your sleep-deprived hysteria, you thought he was dead. Mutual friends still tell the tale over beers, now a great source of laughter, of how you had emerged from the washrooms in the wee hours of the morning screaming for help with Bill--all 6′4 of him--slung over your shoulders in a fireman carry. Bill’s feet still dragged on the ground and his upper body hung limp over your shoulder, but you didn’t care. You just knew he needed help. When he eventually came to, hooked up to an IV and still looking grey, he didn't seem at all shocked when he was told how he made it to the medical centre.

Then there was the time during a traditional movie night at his place, when you felt the tell-tale cramp--that deep cramp low in your belly that had you folding in on yourself briefly. Your cycle wasn’t due for another 3 more days, but your body had other plans. You hadn’t even brought a purse to Bill’s, and looking frantically at your light coloured jeans, you knew you were in trouble. Bill stared at your form, gradually closing in on itself as another cramp hit.

“You okay?” he asked, putting a hand on your back.

“Yeah I uh...I have to go. Sorry, forgot I needed to do something tonight..” you trailed off, tossing the blanket and slowly shifting to stand in a way that would attempt to minimize the flow that you could now feel starting between your legs. Bill eyed you cautiously, then rolled his eyes. Grabbing another slice of pizza from the box in front of him, he stood and grabbed your elbow.

“C’mon,” he said, leading you to the bathroom.

“What are you--” your sentence was cut off when he reached an arm up, opening the cupboard. Inside, you stared in confusion when you spotted a small box of tampons, a few pads, even a little bottle of Midol. He turned to you, shoving another bite of pizza in his mouth.

“If there’s something in here you need, just take it,” he said, his mouth full as he chewed loudly.

“Bill why the fuck do you have these in your bathroom?”

He shrugged, blasé.

“Because I’m a grown ass man and I have grown ass women in my life,” he said, as if it was the most obvious explanation in the world.

“Take whatever you need and get your ass back on the couch, the best part is coming up,” he turned to leave before calling over his shoulder “or if you need something else or whatever, just write it down and I’ll pick it up next time I’m out.”

When you emerged from the bathroom a few moments later, a pair of sweatpants hit you smack in the face.

“In case you’re bloated or whatever,” was the explanation.

You changed. The pants were comically large, with a ton of material still pooling around your feet even after you had rolled the waistband a dozen times.

Joining him back on the couch, he covered the two of you with a blanket again before reaching behind him for something. He tucked a hot water bottle against your stomach and you moaned slightly at how good it felt, then he put his arm back around you and pulled you into his side, restarting the movie. Not another word was spoken.

So compared to a lot of what had happened in the past, having sex with him should have paled in comparison on the scale of awkward. If the sex had been terrible, perhaps a certain degree of awkwardness would be expected. But incredible sex? Incredible sex should be celebrated. And you were on board with that, for awhile.

Until the ice cream.

You had almost forgotten, in fact as the days went on you became more and more able to downplay what had happened, and the level of pleasure you experienced which seemed to have put your body in shock for more than a few days after. Maybe it wasn’t a matter of Bill being so good in bed, feeling so safe with him, and more a matter of just....how pent up you had been. You were almost convinced, almost certain that this was fact. Bill was probably just average, at best. But you did trust him a whole ton more than any of the Tinder dates you had met so combined with your hair trigger for needing a release at that time, it had all just culminated into three delightful explosions.

Until the ice cream.

It had been a longstanding tradition of yours, no matter the season, of going for ice cream the day before Bill left on another shoot. He had a sweet tooth that was completely unrivalled but he had stayed away from sweets for the few months leading up to his new gig, having to take some weight off his already slim frame for his new role.  But as you sat beside him, a banana split for you and an extra large vanilla soft serve for him, you realized what a terrible mistake this was.

“Oh my god,” he groaned in pleasure and you stilled, memories of that groan flooding your mind. You turned to him just in time to see his long tongue snake out, licking slowly from the the cone to the tip of his ice cream.

“Jesus Christ,” he moaned again, “it’s been so long.” His mouth closed around the peak of it, making a small slurping noise as he sucked part of it into his mouth. You felt the heat immediately rising to your cheeks. He moaned again, swirling his tongue around the cone.

“How’s yours?” he asked. 

“It’s uh, it’s good,” you said.

“Might be better if you took a bite, tiger,” he teased. Looking down, your spoon was clenched tightly in your fist and your sundae was untouched. Shaking your head slightly, you lifted the cherry off and popped it in your mouth. You nearly choked when Bill let go another groan that was nothing short of sexual.

“I’m in fucking heaven,” another long lick of his cone from bottom to top,  he sighed happily and closed his mouth over the top again to suck another bite in. Your thighs clenched as you couldn’t get rid of the images that flooded your brain. Bill’s green eyes, peering up at you from between your legs, asking permission. Bill’s eyes closed, moaning in content as he ran his mouth and his nose over your panties. The hum and suckling noise when he pursed his lips around your clit, dragging it into his mouth. That sinful tongue--that long, skilled tongue slowly lapping at his ice cream--and the way he slowly lapped at you, savouring every single lick as if it was giving him as much pleasure as it was giving you.

You watched as he stuck his tongue out to lick at some of the ice cream that had dribbled on his chin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

He had done that too, once he was done turning you into a quivering, moaning mess beneath his mouth. You remembered how he raised up on his haunches, his eyes a blaze of fiery green, as he licked at his bottom lip and swiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

You had almost started to sweat, feeling the flush creeping up your chest.

“You look weird, kid,” his voice interrupted your thoughts, “You okay?”

You cleared your throat, begging your voice not to crack. Begging--you had begged him, too, begged him to make you feel good. And he did. He promised you he would, and oh God, he did. You ran a hand over your face, resisting to urge to knock the side of your head in an attempt to force the images out of your thoughts.

“I’m good,” you lied. You couldn’t meet his eyes anymore, as you felt that ache deep in your gut start again. Your legs shook slightly, your thighs trembling, remembering how good it felt. How good he felt, and how good he made you feel. The way he seemed completely focused on your pleasure, on making sure any little movement he made gave you pleasure. How he had checked in on you, made sure you were feeling good, before continuing anything. How he had made you cry out, clinging to him, gasping for air not one, but three earth shattering times.

Suddenly, you needed air. You needed air, and you needed space. Distance. 

You stood, abruptly. Bill looked up mid-lick, his tongue still on his ice cream as his eyes peered up at you. That look. You closed your eyes, pinching your brow with your fingers.

“Finish tongue-fucking that ice cream, I have a lot of work to do tonight ” you said. Your tone had come out much, much harsher than you had intended, but you turned before you could catch the confused look on his face. 

He dropped you off that night, the car ride home was a one-sided conversation as he talked about the new project and how long he’d be gone, what he was excited for, what his character would do. Walking you to your door, he wrapped his arms around you tightly and laid a wet smack of a kiss on your cheek.

“Let me know when you’re free to FaceTime,” he had said, his face tucked into your neck, “There’s not too many night shoots so our schedules should sync up.”

“ ‘kay.” 

“And hopefully you can come out for a weekend, you’d probably like it there. New Tinder material for you,” he chuckled.

“ ‘kay.”

He pulled away, keeping his hands on your shoulders. You stared at his chest, but felt his eyes boring into you.

“Tiger,” he commanded, “look at me.”

When you shifted uncomfortably, he moved one hand to under your chin and tilted it up to meet his eyes.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked. You looked away, your chin still resting on his hand, and gave a half-hearted shrug. Images from before still clouded your brain, your pleasure receptors still firing on all cylinders at the memory of that mouth, those hands all over you. You let out a ragged breath, and his thumb and forefinger moved to pinch your chin.

“Are you getting awkward about what happened between us?” he asked and your eyes widened in surprise--sometimes his direct and straight-forward approach still caught you off guard.

“Jesus Bill,” you tried to move your chin away but he opened his hand, cupping your jaw.

“Answer me.”

“No, I’m not getting fucking awkward about it.”

“Eyes, kid.”

You dragged your eyes back to his and he saw right through you, raising his eyebrows in challenge. You pouted.

“Don’t lie to me, tiger,” his tone softened and he sighed, “Look, that night--did it feel good? Did you feel good?”

“Uh....yes,” you responded quietly. He bent at the knees, tilting his head to maintain eye contact with you when you tried to look away.

“And do you feel better now, after you got what you needed?” he asked. You hated this. You hated every part of how honest he was, how comfortable he was at having these insanely uncomfortable conversations.

“Ugh, Bill, I can’t--”

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” you whispered, heat blazing your cheeks. There was nothing but kindness in his eyes though, genuine honesty to his questions.

“You deserve to feel good. You needed to feel good. And you trusted me with that. And I helped?” he looked to you for confirmation.

“Yeah. Yeah you helped,” you confirmed. He smiled, stroking your cheek.

“And I was happy to. You’re my best friend, kid. I love you, and I wanted to help you. That’s it, okay? We promised it wouldn’t get awkward,” he looped an arm around you again, bringing you back in for a hug. ‘It’s just sex.”

“Fucking phenomenal sex,” you muttered into his chest.You felt his boisterous laugh, his arms squeezing you tighter.

“It was fucking phenomenal sex,” he pulled away and smiled at you.  You tugged his jacket collar down, silently beckoning him to bend and you kissed his cheek.

“Have fun, Billy Goat,” you said.

“Be safe, tiger” he responded, “Stay outta trouble while I’m gone.”

And with a final wave as you shut your door, you watched him pull out into the street. He’d text you tomorrow morning from the airport, you knew, and again when he landed.

But tonight, tonight you still had an ache in your gut, a tremble in your thighs that you knew wouldn’t let you sleep until those pleasure receptors--ones that remembered all too well--were satiated again.

[wroughtbetwixtfanfic]

Love, Blood, And Rhetoric, Ch 1.

Fandom: The Society.

Summary: Campbell's just trying to survive in the new world. He knows he can make it-- it's everyone else he's worried about.

Rating: Mature.

Tags: Canon Divergence, Mental Health Issues, Family Issues, Substance Abuse, Complicated Relationships, Consent Issues, Antisocial Personality Disorder, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Mild Sexual Content, assuming Elle and Campbell are both 18 for the sake of things, Underage Drinking, PTSD, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, implied eating disorder, Fix-It, Campbell has mild ASPD, and is actively trying to not be awful

Word Count: 6061

Part One, Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3 || Ch 4 || Ch 5 || AO3

Disclaimer: This is part two of a three part series. Reading part one is more-or-less essential.

This is a canon divergent storyline for Campbell, using (in my experience) a realistic take on conduct disorder and ASPD instead of Hollywood "psychopath" stereotypes. While people with conduct disorder can be violent and abusive, the diagnosis does exist on a spectrum, and neither ASPD nor "psychopathy" should be diagnosed before the age of 18; this is one thing that rubbed me the wrong way on The Society. Campbell's power will be more in his ability to manipulate-- not "being crazy". Hopefully I can succeed in presenting a more understandable and less sensationalized vision of his behavior. Please note that I have no intention of making him a violent abuser, to bring his character more in line with my experiences of how an emotionally neglected teen with moderately reduced empathy would behave, provided they were actively attempting to help themselves.

Tl;dr I just wanted to make Campbell less needlessly shitty, because it makes me feel better as a person, and because I wanted one (1) antagonist who isn't just an evil, horrible abuser with a scary mental illness.

Thank you for reading, and leaving kudos/comments/likes. <3 

///

The bridge was quiet as a graveyard. It was something out of a science fiction movie, wasn't it? Alice in Wonderland type shit. Something happens, and suddenly the world goes inside out, with people transported to some other dimension. No one had said a damn word, but it was the only explanation that made any sense at all. It looked like home, but it wasn't home. Everything felt a few degrees to the side. Just a tiny bit abnormal. Forests that sprouted up around them overnight. Everyone else in the city, gone. The smell, gone. Gordie was the first to break the silence. "I mean, there's only so many options."

"Maybe we're dreaming," Allie offered. "It's the best option." Campbell rolled his eyes, but held his tongue for Cassandra's sake. They would all have to be dreaming the exact same dream at the same time, and that seemed far less likely than some sort of weird wormhole situation. Harry was sitting on his car hood, with Helena and Luke next to him. He ran his hands through his hair; he was still half drunk, and had no business being there, but there he was and he was freaking out. "Maybe this is just some elaborate fucking game. Like, someone built an exact replica of our town and just put it in the middle of nowhere, and if we just walk..." He paused, waving his hands towards the trees. "Like, this way or that way or any way, eventually we'll get back to the real world." Christ, that was an even worse theory. Campbell sighed. "An exact replica of the town," he pressed, "complete with all our family's cars? Our clothes? Our bathroom towels, posters, jewelry, stuffed animals, the food in our fridges?" "I'm not saying it makes any sense." Crossing her arms, Cassandra leaned against the bridge and frowned. She had that debate team look in her eyes. The look that said she was trying to dissect the situation in her mind. "There was a smell, and then it went away. It came back, and the buses came for us." Harry scoffed. "You're gonna just work this out, Cassandra? Like some logic problem? I mean, not a flicker of a doubt?" "The world doesn't just turn upside down without a reason. We're not in some play-within-a-play. Okay? Clever is not the same thing as true. There is a point to everything, there are answers." "That's right," Helena chimed in. "God doesn't just play games with people for fun." Cassandra clenched her jaw as she looked to Helena, then to Campbell. They had both stopped going to church a long time ago, and Cassandra had been the one to get religious-specific plays banned from school performances. Campbell didn't really believe or disbelieve anything, but he knew Cassandra and Helena had gotten into argument before about all sorts of things. LGBT rights, abortion, gun control... He could see that anger stirring up in Cassandra. It wouldn't be pretty if it got loose. Luckily, Luke seemed to sense the tension and butted in. "All right, look, Grizz and I will get a group together and we'll go hike out here through the woods, okay? Like a search party." Helena nodded. "I think that's a good idea." "Do you think it's safe?" Cassandra asked, frowning. "Yeah," Grizz replied, "sure." Luke tried to smile. "Grizz knows what he's doing. And if there's people out there, we gotta find them, right? You know. To get help." "I'm leaving." Harry got up off the car and headed towards the driver's door. His eyes were glassy, distant. It wouldn't be long before he imploded. "I'm hungry." Allie stood up, glaring. "You're leaving?" Campbell watched the bickering that followed, wondering when-- if at all-- they were going to ask his opinion. But he knew they wouldn't. They never did. If they would have shut the fuck up long enough to bother, Campbell would have told them that the horizon looked a little too clean for a West Ham summer. Too clear. He would have pointed out that there were no planes, no trails even, in the sky overhead. Wherever they were, chances were they were alone. Instead, he focused on his phone while everyone started arguing in full; Elle was trying to call. Can't talk now, he texted. At the bridge with Cassie and others. She replied quickly. Why? What's wrong? Not sure. All roads out of town are blocked. Blocked? We can't get out? Has anyone found our parents? Campbell rubbed his face with one hand. No, we can't. No adults or younger kids yet. Trying to figure out what to do. Oh. A long, long pause. Show me. Whatever was happening, Harry was officially done. His tone sharpened, and Campbell looked up to see him trying to collect Kelly. "You coming with, Kel?" He stood there, staring, when she shook her head. Ouch. Harry hadn't mentioned that they were on the rocks; he was being an unreasonable ass, though. Not a surprise. "Jesus christ, just get in the car." "Leave her alone," Will grumbled. "Hey, fuck off, Will." Harry looked to Campbell, seeking someone to follow him. Campbell just raised an eyebrow. Harry seethed, getting into his car and starting the engine. "Fine. Who gives a shit." He knew Harry would be mad at him for a while, but eventually he'd stop being a selfish prick and come around. Campbell needed to be there, to keep an eye on people and the situation; he needed to hear what was happening, and plan accordingly. If Cassandra couldn't keep herself together and all hell was going to break loose, Campbell needed to be ready. In the mean time... Cassandra blinked at him and he moved to her side, lifting his phone to take a picture of the blocked off tracks and road. "What are you doing?" "I'm just gonna send a text. Let everybody know how fucked we are." "Campbell!" she hissed. "Don't. Come on, let's think about this." But there was nothing to think about. Campbell pressed the send button, and his phone dinged in confirmation. He smiled at the look of horror on her face, sitting down on the sidewalk while he waited for Elle to reply; it wasn't often that he actually felt stronger than Cassandra, or even smarter, but it was one of those rare moments that he saw an opportunity and took it. Hiding the truth from people would only backfire. She'd thank him later, if she had the sense. Cassandra was still moaning over it. "Fuck. Why did you do that?" "Relax, Cassandra. I don't have many people on my contact list." "But they'll share it with their friends. It'll spread." "A slow, steady distribution of information is better than pretending things are fine." "Campbell--" "Look." Setting aside his phone, Campbell turned to Cassandra and held her gaze. "You, me, and like a dozen other people already know. How long do you think it'd be before one of them squealed, huh? Someone would let it slip, at some point. And if you go back into town, telling everyone it's all good when it's not, at some point they'll realize you lied. What do you think is gonna happen when three hundred teenagers stop trusting their student body president, Cassandra?" "I'm not student body president anymore. Harry said so, and it's true." "Harry's a shithead." "Then why are you friends with him?" "Not the point. You're one of the smarter people here. Gordie, Bean, Will, Grizz? They're amazing, but you were the closest thing to a leader we had back home. That doesn't just go away." Cassandra chewed on her lip. "I don't want to be a leader. I'm..." She pressed her hand to her chest. "I'm sick. What if I can't get my medicine?" "Tough shit," Campbell retorted. "Power is in your hands, and if you don't get a grip on it, someone else is going to put you in the dirt. All the medicine in the world won't help you if there's a fucking mutiny." "What do I do, then?" "These kids are gonna get scared, and they're either gonna look to you or they're going to challenge you. Pull yourself together." For a long time, Cassandra didn't speak. She sat next to him and gazed woefully at a small group of teens that were heading their way, some walking and others jogging. They were pointing at the road, and some began shouting. A few began to hover closer to her, looking nervous. "Well. Maybe you're right." "Usually am. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an acquaintance to console." Elle had arrived with the group, staring off the side of the bridge at the tracks. Other kids joined her nearby, and Campbell could hear them whisper as he approached. He was telling the truth. What does this mean? How is it possible? He ignored them, leaning against the railing next to Elle; she didn't look at him, but she leaned a little closer. "This is such bullshit," she said after a time. "What are we supposed to do?" Campbell shook his head. "Whatever is happening, if we're stuck with no way out, then we gotta do what you do in any survival situation. Secure resources. Shelter, food, water." "Should head to the store and grab some shit before people all get the same idea." "Probably, yeah." Elle glanced over at him. "You're pretty calm in all this." "Getting panicked or scared just means mistakes get made." He texted her a small list of supplies. "Go to the store. Bottled water. A lot of stuff can be frozen or dried. Get what you can, we'll figure out how to preserve it later." She nodded, turning and heading towards the closest market. Campbell waited for her to be out of earshot, then headed towards Cassandra, who was talking to Will and Sam. Everyone else seemed to have dispersed. They all glanced at him, but kept talking; Will was discussing the food situation, already, and Will specifically mumbled something about dehydrating and canning. Well, at least Will had some clue, then. "I saved a bunch of YouTube videos," he said, looking sheepish. "I always wanted to be a chef, so..." Campbell kept walking. They already were making plans; they didn't need him any, and he should go make sure that Elle was doing alright. He made it a few yards before Sam caught up to him, grabbing his sleeve to get his attention. "Where are you going?" Sam asked. "To get what I can." Campbell sighed at the way Sam's eyebrows knit together. There was no point in wasting time trying to explain, and besides, he had to make sure Sam wasn't gonna starve to death. "Coming?" There were a few different stores and markets in town, and while there was one close by, Campbell knew of a smaller one run by one of those doomsday prepper types. There wasn't as much variety there, but it did have gallon-sized bottled waters and things like powdered eggs. People went to it for camping supplies, but not much else; it wouldn't be the first place most would think to go to. Sam followed him inside, watching at Campbell began to fill a basket full of supplied. At least he didn't try and argue that it was theft or anything. "What are you getting?" "This is for you. A week of water. Jerky, nuts and seeds. Dried eggs. Dried fruit, some other shit. Keep it in the basement until you need it." "Why a week?" "Because if the utilities go and no one comes for us after a week, they're not going to." He didn't mean for the words to come out quite so grim, but it was useless to sugarcoat things any. "Keep using the water at home as long as you can. If it goes off, use this." Campbell grabbed some for himself, and they managed to weasel the baskets home without being seen. Probably because most of the other kids were at home crying or at the bridge by that point, who knew for sure. At least no one approached them. As they put shit away, Campbell made a list in his head of things in stores that would be in high demand. Toilet paper, first aid kits, batteries, medications, alcohol, anything for hygiene. Bleach, matches, lighters. And knowing his peers, condoms. If he got his backpack and headed out again, he could probably snatch a good stock before anyone else thought of it... Sam sunk onto the sofa once they finished. He tilted his head as Campbell got a couple backpacks, and made another list on his phone. "What are you going to do?" "I have some business to take care of." "Harry?" Maybe it was the comment itself, or maybe it was the eyebrow quirk of Sam's eyebrow, or some sort of tone his brother had. Either way, Campbell's mood soured on the spot. "Don't pretend like you know me." "I don't know you. That's what scares me." There was nothing to say to that, in the end. Campbell stormed out of the house, heading towards the pharmacy first. Most of what he wanted would be there, and the chances of anyone else being there already were slim. To his surprise, when he arrived, someone had already been messing with the lock; they hadn't managed to get in, whoever they were. Campbell slipped his lock picking kit from the backpack and made quick work of it. First was anything addictive, then meds that would be important. The pharmacy had a little book behind the counter that explained what everything was, and Campbell swept through as fast as possible to grab asthma medications, birth control pills, anti virals, whatever looked useful. He paused as he examined the shelves, seeing a prescription for Cassandra. Her heart meds. He tossed it into his backpack, and then found the rest of that medication and stole it, too. Harry's home was close by. Campbell headed there, knowing Harry would let him stash shit there until Campbell convinced Sam to get in line. When he knocked, though, no one answered. Sighing, Campbell found the hidden key Harry had made specially for him; the house was quiet when he came inside, with Harry nowhere in sight. He hid the backpacks in the attic first, then went hunting for his friend. "Harry? You were supposed to be here eating." A muffled sound came from the living room. Campbell found Harry laying curled up in a ball on the floor, under a blanket. "Hey, buddy. You don't look so hot." "Leave me alone, Satan," Harry slurred. "Are you high?" "Maybe." Campbell flopped onto the floor next to Harry, lifting up the blanket to peer in at him. "C'mon. Tell me. What'd you take?" "A xanax. From mom's medicine cabinet." A quick trip upstairs, to peek at the dose. Not worrisome, but definitely more than a beginner should take, and enough to knock Harry on his ass for several hours. Campbell went into the kitchen and made a can of soup. Harry's favorite, split pea with ham. He brought it to Harry and sat on the floor again, tempting Harry with it. Eventually, Harry crawled out from under the blanket and took the bowl. "She dumped me." Harry poked at the green mass. "Kelly. We found out her dad was screwing with my mom, and I don't know. She got pissed off at me." "You do stick your foot in your mouth regularly." "I didn't mean to make her mad. Now we're in this fucking nightmare world, and... what am I supposed to do? I can't do this alone." Campbell resisted the urge to gloat. He'd never really liked Kelly, anyways, and the feeling had been mutual. "Look, you two have been having problems for over a week now. This changes nothing." He reached over, snagging the spoon from Harry's hand and loading it up with soup. "Besides. You're not alone. You have me." Harry didn't fight as Campbell fed him the soup. "You know what I mean," he said through a bite. He suddenly stopped, swallowing and sinking his face into his hands. "Maybe you don't. Christ." "You're hung over and high. Eat your soup and we can talk later." He muttered under his breath, but Harry listened anyways. Campbell put on a movie, chilling while Harry ate; when Harry was done, he slumped against Campbell and fell asleep. Well, at least he couldn't panic if he was passed out cold. Hours passed. Harry eventually woke up enough to stumble into the shower and clean himself up, while Campbell made them grilled cheese sandwiches. Harry had just returned when their phones began to buzz. "It's from Cassandra." Campbell slid Harry a sandwich. "She wants us to get to the church as soon as possible." Harry shook his head. "Man, fuck her." "Quiet. She knows what she's doing." "Do you seriously believe that?" "Yeah, I do." Harry didn't say anything, but he tightened his jaw, and Campbell saw something in his eyes that planted another seed of worry. Rebellion. Fucking hell, it was starting already. Campbell headed towards the bathroom while Harry got dressed; it was a quick detour to the bedroom of Harry's parents, where Campbell knew Harry's mother kept a gun. The case wasn't locked. The ammo was right there. Thank fuck Harry never had the inclinations to kill anyone. Campbell made sure it was unloaded, then stuck the gun in his waistband and the ammo in his pocket, before heading back out. Harry was waiting on the porch, and they hopped in his car and made their way to the church. By the time they got there, people were starting to gather, but it was mostly empty still. Cassandra was standing by the water fountain, leaning against the brick wall and taking deep, slow breaths. Harry went on inside without waiting. Campbell hung back, sidling up to Cassandra when no one was paying attention. "I can't do this," she whispered. "I can't." Campbell nudged her shoulder with his own. "It's gonna be okay, somehow. If it makes you feel any better, I knocked over the drug store and stole you a few months worth of your heart meds." "You... What. No, no, nevermind. I don't want to know." "You're welcome. But seriously, just chill out. What are you even talking about?" Cassandra ran her hands through her hair. "Luke texted Helena. Helena texted me. We got ahold of everyone on the buses, but people all keep asking me what's going on. You were right. People are looking to me, and I don't know how to lead them." Campbell shrugged. "We're kids, okay? Most of us aren't used to living in the real world. They're gonna be worried about things like resources and safety. Guide them a bit towards ways to get or keep that, and they'll follow." "But why would they take my word for it? I have maybe five friends, Cam. There's over two hundred people coming, and I don't know how to trust them, or get them to trust me." Trust wasn't something Campbell was familiar with, but he knew no one would trust Cassandra if they saw her as weak. And if Cassandra didn't believe in herself, then weak was exactly how she'd come off. Cassandra had been tempered by her love for her family and friends. It was sweet, it was good, but sweet and good wasn't going to get shit done. The people in their town only understood wealth and power. But it was too late to talk more; dozens of people were heading their way, and Campbell knew better than to be seen lingering around Cassandra too long. He took a seat in the back, far from the Cassandra and her little herd. Sam was there, surrounded by Allie, Becca, Gordie, and Will. His actual, chosen family. Even Harry was up there, and Kelly. He felt a small stab of jealousy, but bit it back as soon as it reared its head. It'd do no good. "You could join them." Campbell glanced up at Elle's voice. She stood in the church aisle, watching him. "No, that wouldn't be a good idea. I don't want to be a public relations nightmare for my cousin." "Stay away from the alcohol, and you'd probably be fine." "Elle..." "No, Campbell, whatever you're about to say just don't bother. The best thing you can do is promise never to do that again, and then keep that promise, okay?" "I can do that." "Are you sure?" "Yeah." Campbell hesitated. He hated making promises, because he knew he could be unreliable and he hated breaking promises just as much, but Elle was worth the effort. "I promise." Crossing her arms, Elle looked down at the floor. "Alright. Well, Kelly invited me to sit with her. I'll let you know if they say anything good." She didn't wait for an answer. Elle peeked back at him as she headed up front; he tried to smile at her, and she didn't really smile back, but it was a start at least. Campbell turned his focus to the crowd in the church and their quiet whispers. Many were scared. A few were angry. Most just seemed confused. As time passed, they became restless. At least, that was until Cassandra stood, and began to speak. She stood in the center of the stairs leading to the podium. "Listen. Hey, listen up." Silence fell over the church. Cassandra continued, her voice shaking at first, but becoming louder and clearer as she carried on. "While we're all here, together, there are some things that we ought to figure out. Before we rip this place apart and maybe... you know, start hurting each other." She paused as quiet murmurs spread through the gathered students. "I don't know what the hell is going on. Maybe Luke will come back with some good news." Elle spoke first, her tone annoyed. "Maybe? Of course he will." "Yeah," Harry agreed. "Why don't we just wait and see, Cassandra?" Cassandra sighed. Her eyes darted to Campbell, for just a split second. "Because I would rather prepare for the worst before the worst happens." "What does that mean? Prepare?" Kelly wondered. "I don't know specifically, but I think it means we agree not to just take things when we want until all the food is gone and we starve." The murmurs turned into a panicked rumble. Campbell winced, but Allie, Clark, and Helena loudly agreed with Cassandra, and that seemed to quell the surge of fear... until Harry opened his goddamn mouth, just as Campbell knew he would. "This is bullshit." Will's back was to Campbell, but he could heard the disbelief in Will's voice. "Jesus, man, what is your problem?" "What are we agreeing to, Cassandra?" Harry turned to Cassandra, ignoring Will completely. Some of the students waiting in the pews began to yell in agreement with Harry. "Which one of us gets to decide who gets what? Your friends?" Becca let out a huff. "It's called democracy." "I'm not a fucking idiot, Becca." That was debatable, Campbell thought, but he kept quiet. At least for the time being, to see how things would play out. At least Cassandra seemed to have a handle on things, for the time being; Harry was getting flustered, especially when Cassandra brought out the coin she'd kept from the play. "How do you want to decide things?" she challenged. "Every person for themselves? Then we're back to where we started. Maybe you want to flip a coin to see who decides? You don't like democracy? How about random fucking chance?" Harry scoffed. "That's--" "Call it, Harry. Call it." "I'm not gonna do that." "Okay, okay. I'll call it for you. You get heads." Cassandra flipped the coin. "Tails. Still think it's unfair? Best two out of three. Oh! Tails." "I... I mean..." Cassandra flipped a third time, but this time, her face fell. "Tails." Harry looked frozen. The church had become so quiet, it was like no one was even breathing. Harry was thinking back to the play, and Campbell knew everyone else was, too. "Do it again." Four more times, Cassandra flipped the coin. Tails, tails, tails, tails. Harry stepped back from Cassandra, eyes wide. "Fuck." For a moment, Cassandra paused. She stared at the coin, and flipped it again; she closed her eyes, her hand over the coin for a long moment before she finally looked. "Heads." She held up the coin, and the crowd let out a long sigh of relief. She turned her attention back to them, lifting her voice once more. "It's all up to us. There's no civilization here, not until we start one. So what are we gonna do? First, I think we have no choice but to share. Share food, share resources." "Houses?" Harry asked. "Maybe." "Fuck you." Allie stood up. "Really? How much electricity do we have? Until it's all used up and everything goes dark? I think 225 people in 200 houses doesn't make sense." 239, but who was counting. "Keep what's ours!" some random fuckhole shouted from the other side of the church. "What is yours?" Cassandra questioned. "Do you have money? Who you gonna pay? The things that you need to live-- food, clothes, the stuff in stores-- no one owns them." Will and Harry erupted at one another over housing, and Campbell sighed, leaning back and closing his eyes. They were snapping and snarling, and the mood in the church was getting tense. Will on one side, arguing for Cassandra's view that there should be rules, organization, a method. Harry on his own side, screaming about how he should get to do whatever he wanted. Campbell understood. Harry was afraid, afraid of losing what was his and the comfy little life he had for himself. The big house and big bed and things were all he really had, in his mind. And well, men in general weren't great with sharing, were they? But Campbell knew history sided with people like Will and Cassandra. Capitalism, mine-mine-mine, greed. It never fared well in situations like the one they were in. No, they needed rules. They needed some sort of system, where everyone had an equal portion of things. And they had such a small, small window of time to get things going and working, before it all fell into chaos. Harry was yelling at Cassandra, getting ready to storm off like the entitled rich boy he was. Great. "I don't have to listen to this. Not anymore." "Harry, this has nothing to do with you," Cassandra snapped. "We need to--" "I don't need to do anything you say, you fucking--" Campbell had been busy loading the gun while the two argued, with the rest of the students starting to stand up and scream back and forth, too. He stood, pointed at the back wall's roof where it wouldn't hurt anyone, and fired a single round. The angry screams turned into screams of panic as everyone hit the floor. Some started crying, but everyone was staring at him, and no one was speaking. "Well..." Campbell took to the center aisle, walking towards his cousin. He had to act fast, before anyone recovered and tried to stop him. "Fuck this. Harry's right." Cassandra's mouth dropped open. "What?" "No one elected you king, cousin. Did anybody vote for her? Did they?" Campbell stopped in front of Cassandra and gestured to the cowering teenagers on the floor. "Anybody elect her to speak on your behalf? No?" "I... I don't want to be king." Campbell stared hard at Cassandra. She was stuttering. Oh, it wouldn't do at all for her to look like this in front of the people she was trying to rally. He cocked the gun again, but this time, he pointed it at Cassandra. There was no bullet left in the gun, but she didn't know that. No one did. "That's not what it looks like. Is it?" Allie jumped in front of her sister, glaring daggers at Campbell, but Cassandra gently brushed her aside. Something flickered to life in her eyes. Something courageous. Self-sacrificing. "I've thought a lot about dying. I've almost gotten used to that. But I don't like to be afraid." Cassandra looked down the barrel, then met Campbell's gaze. If she had any idea of the hand he was playing, she didn't give it away. She simply stood tall, steeling her voice and not flinching a bit. "Do you want chaos? Fucking shoot me." And there she was, the Cassandra he loved. Campbell chuckled, lowering the gun and giving her a little smile. "I don't want to shoot you. I wanted to get everybody's attention." Just one last part of the plan to put into place. "This meeting's obviously over. We'll be back when Luke gets here. Until then, if anybody else is tired of listening to her, you can follow me." Campbell turned and headed towards the door, knowing Cassandra would be watching and counting each and every person who left with him. She would know their names. Their faces. She would know exactly who was siding against her. Once he got to the exit, he glanced behind him. It was a good sign. Harry and Kelly. Seven others, of various genders. A tiny, tiny minority, and no threat to Cassandra at all. She would be safe. But then the church doors swung open with a bang, and Campbell fell back. Everyone did. Luke walked in, flanked by Grizz, Bean, Gwen, and the others that had gone out into the forest. In Luke's arms draped Emily's pale, limp body. Gasps and noises of despair rippled through the crowd, and everyone parted to allow Luke access to the table at the front of the room. Grizz cleared the table, and they all stood around, staring. Some started to cry. Some tried to check for her pulse. She was dead. It was clear the minute Luke came in. Campbell had never really known Emily, so he stayed near the door, letting everyone else have a chance to see her for themselves. Closure or whatever. "She died from a snakebite," Luke called out. "Her whole body just shut down. We did everything we could, but we couldn't save her." Grizz spoke when Luke sank to the floor. His voice was flat, cold. Practical. "So we're gonna bury her tomorrow, before it starts to smell. I'm gonna need a couple of guys..." "There's nothing out there, guys. Just a whole bunch of just... woods that go on forever. We're all alone. This isn't our home." This isn't our home. Those four words were all it took to shift everything. He looked to Sam, his thoughts already spinning. His little brother was huddled with Allie, Cassandra, and Becca, and Campbell could practically smell the fear on him. Alone. Sam didn't trust Campbell, and now they had to be alone together? They had to try and survive together? It wasn't going to work, not like this, especially when-- not if, but when-- things started getting cutthroat. Campbell was too bitter, too hateful, and he knew he wouldn't be able to handle the stress of worrying about them both. Especially if Cassandra expected people to start sharing houses. There was no way Campbell could do it. He would hurt someone, at some point. In the end, it was for Sam's own good. Campbell knew he, at some point, would snap. He would destroy Sam. He wouldn't want to, or even mean to. But if they were on their own, trapped, it'd be like too many rats in too small a cage. They'd turn on each other someday, and Campbell knew he would always save himself, without hesitation. Sam deserved better than that. So... Campbell eyed Cassandra and Allie as they walked past, heading to their home. They had already opened their home to Will. Safety in numbers, right? And Cassandra loved Sam. Allie was protective of her family. Sam trusted and loved them, too. They could keep him safe. They would take care of him, and sacrifice their own needs for him if it came down to it. They could be the home Sam needed, even if it was just for a little while. Campbell just had to hope that Sam was angry enough inside, hurt enough by years of distrust and backbiting between them, that he'd be happy to leave. He grabbed Sam's arm as Sam followed after their cousins. Campbell kept his face calm, his voice neutral. Maybe it would be simple. No need to get nasty about it, if Sam would go willingly. "Hey. Don't come home tonight." Sam tensed. There was hurt in his eyes, and the smallest glint of stubbornness. He was angry, but not angry enough. Not yet. "It's my house, too." Campbell studied Sam's face, choosing to dig a little deeper. Something more painful was going to be needed, obviously. "Ever since you were born, I never had just one day that was mine, until now." It was the truth, anyways. It had been the Sam Show from day one, and it was no secret that Campbell resented Sam for it. "Alright?" Sam stared Campbell down, not saying a word. Not at first. Finally, he shook his head. His voice was low. Pained. But he didn't look away from Campbell, not even a little bit. "No." So, that's how it was going to be. "Give me the key, you little fag." He had never called Sam that before, or anything like it. He'd busted plenty of people's lips for less. It felt dirty on his tongue, but it was the one thing that Campbell knew would hurt Sam past the point of forgiveness. And if that didn't work... Campbell shot his hand out and scruffed Sam like a petulant kitten, digging his fingers hard into the back of Sam's neck. "Give me the key." Shock was the first emotion that crossed through Sam's expression. Campbell had never laid his hands on Sam before, either. He'd never needed slurs or physical violence before. But persuasion wasn't working, and maybe shock was exactly what Campbell needed to bring Sam's rage to the surface. It worked like a charm; the fury finally arrived, hurt transforming into a deep, crushing hatred. It was the same hatred that Campbell had seen in Sam the night Oliver was found dead, and fuck, it wasn't what Campbell wanted to see. But it had to happen now, before it happened later. Before Sam got hurt worse. Sam handed over his key to the house, then shoved Campbell hard and walked away. Campbell watched him go. Sam didn't look back. Good. It stung more than Campbell had expected, in some weird, dull way, but it was necessary. Wasn't it? Sam would be with Allie and Cassandra, where it was warm and welcoming and loving. Campbell would be on his own, away from anyone he could easily hurt, with time and space to figure shit out. When he got home, it was dark. He turned on the lights, turned on some music. There was cold cheese pizza still in the fridge; he ate it, not bothering to heat it up first. It was late, and he was tired, but there was a restlessness in him that wouldn't let him sleep. He ended up standing in the living room a bit past midnight, with the lights turned off and just a little bit of moonlight streaming in through the windows. He'd turned off the music, and it was quiet. Perfectly quiet, like he'd always fantasized about. No one to interrupt him, no one to scold or condemn him or look at him funny, or bother him with questions or requests, no one to have to pretend around. Happy, relaxed, carefree... Quarantined. Campbell sat in the middle of the living room sofa, emptiness settling over his shoulders like a frigid, heavy blanket. For the first time in years, he cried.

[bisexualstokes-archive]

A Walk in the Woods (1/2)

Chapter (1/2): The Show-Off in the Spotlight Rating: Teen+  Summary: Nick goes off the beaten path during the Annual Stokes Hunting Trip, and pays the price for it, going from hunter to prey as he falls into a trap that opens old wounds, which he discusses with his son, Parker.  Chapter Notes: Since this is about hunting, there is of course, some descriptions of it, but not in the usual level of detail that I tend to write, in terms of the uh, animal violence that comes with it. A bit short, but it's just the beginning. 

@letswaitforme​, @deltajackdalton​ this is probably up your alley ;)

Read on ao3

It was his first time traveling outside of Texas. His first excursion on the annual tradition of the Stokes men, a hunting trip in Colorado. “Where a boy becomes a man,” as his eldest brother, Todd put it to him. Todd was there to snap a picture of a young, eager Nick Stokes, age 12, when his father told him the great news. 

Nick hadn’t been able to sleep, he was too excited, one of his other brothers, Stevie equated the experience of going to Disney World—another trip the Stokes family would embark on later that same year. A year of travel, of exploration.

He was happy to finally be allowed to come on this trip, considering ever since three years ago, bad things happened while his father and brothers were on the trip. Last year, all of the women in the house were just...insufferable, to say the least, all coming down with the same illness, screaming at Nick one minute, then fawning over him the next. Year before that, Nick broke his leg, he was goofing around with his friends a little too much. 

The year before that...well, he doesn’t like to think too much about the night he spent in his darkened room, covering his body with a blanket, waiting for his mother to come home. 

His brothers always seemed a little happier after the trip, rejuvenated, the weight of the world off their shoulders. 

“Besides the hunting and hiking we just...talk. Hell, Dad doesn’t even care if we talk bad about the family, or him. Says it’s stress relief, whatever happens in the woods, stays in the woods,” Todd told him as he filled Nick in on what to expect. 

“I thought that was Vegas?” Nick asked. He always wanted to go to Vegas.

He had wondered if maybe this trip would be an opportunity to share what happened with his father. No way that...monster could know what he says in the middle of the woods somewhere in Colorado...right?

There was something about the deep, dark woods that made him believe maybe it wasn’t outside of the realm of possibility. He had never been in a forest like this one, never seen mountains that loomed far above him. He looked down over the edge of a cliff, licked his lips nervously. Long way down.

“Aw, is little Nicky scared?” his brother Steve teased in a mock-baby talking voice as they trudged through the woods to find their campsite. 

“No, Stevie!” Nick blurted out. “I’m not scared!” 

His fingers balled up into a fist, he was going to show Steve how not-scared he was. 

“Boys…” a warning tone, from Cisco. He shot his two youngest sons a warning glance. “Keep it up, you’re sleeping with the wolves tonight.”

He had said it sternly, seriously, but gave Nick a wink, which eased his anxiety a little. An empty threat, meant as a joke, but Nick would be lying if he said he tread carefully for the rest of the night, avoiding any more disputes with his brother. 

“He’s just jealous, he got all the attention last year,” Todd whispered to Nick. “Since it was his first time last year. Little Stevie loves the spotlight.”

“Yeah, he does,” Nick giggled. Stevie Stokes, the show-off in the spotlight. The alliteration made him burst into a fit of laughter. 

“What’s so funny?” Steve asked as Todd caught on to Nick’s contagious laughter. 

“Nothing...This is just...so awesome!” Nick exclaimed. His initial fear was gone, the once intimidating height of the trees turned to a challenge--he hoped he’d be able to climb them, despite the echoed warnings from his mother inside his head telling him not to. The looming shadows were exposed, wildlife hopping and running out of the darkness, he had never been this close to this many animals before. 

But it was the sounds of birds that really put his mind at ease, he looked up and saw birds he had only seen pictures of before. He stopped and just stared up at the sky for a few moments, allowed himself to be lost in the winding tornado of birds in the trees above.  

“Pancho, you coming?” his father called out to him. 

Nick didn’t respond right away, trapped in a weird sensation of disconnection from his body. An oddly elevating feeling, he felt like he was floating upwards, wings spread out beside him. He couldn’t even remember why they were out there, didn’t even care. He had never been so happy in his life, not that he could remember.

“Nicholas Parker!” his father shouted, and Nick fell back to the earth, the smile wiped off of his face, and he was worried again, his father only used his middle name when he was in trouble…

He nodded for Todd to go ahead with the rest of the boys, put a hand on Nick’s shoulder, reached behind a hand to his backpack. Nick’s eyes widened in concern, but his father revealed a pair of binoculars that he placed into his son’s hands.

“I was gonna wait until we started the hunt, but, what the hell. This might make it a bit easier to see.”

A smile spread from Nick’s face to his dad’s, if Nick didn’t know any better, it was like a Christmas morning, or his birthday. 

“Thanks, Cisco!” 

“Come on, let’s go catch up to your brothers. Uncle Mike is waiting for us to set up camp.”

The next morning, after Nick was given the talk on gun safety, he was given a shotgun. It felt heavy in his hands, but it made him feel powerful at the same time. A force to be reckoned with. A force that he was shown, first hand, as his Uncle Mike shot down a bird flying overhead with very little effort. Nick was shocked at first, though he had seen dead animals before, he never quite saw how they died. 

"It’s not a toy,” was the last thing his father told him, words that stuck with him long beyond the hunting trip, before they broke off into groups. Given that it was Nick’s first time, he stuck with his father and Steve, who was still in “training,” according to an eavesdrop of hushed whispers between his father and his uncle. 

Nick was a natural tracker, pointed out the small details that apparently flew over his father and brother’s heads. His father encouraged him to lead the way, an honor bestowed on only the most experienced Stokes men, from what Todd had told him. Pride filled Nick’s chest as he silently moved through the forest, focused on the task of tracking down a deer--considered to be the “training targets,” while his older brothers were tasked with tracking down an elk. 

“I see it!” Nick whispered behind him. “Shh--it’s right up there!” 

“Good job, Pancho!” Cisco exclaimed. “Now, take aim…”

He raised the gun, lined up the barrel with the deer that was too busy eating to sense the danger just a few feet away. Young Nick Stokes, with everything to prove to his brothers, to his fathers, to himself, was about to show that he was not scared. He was a man. 

“Steady, steady...put your finger on the trigger...and...pull.”

He had his finger on the trigger, but something stopped him from pulling it. Something made his entire body freeze, his heart felt light, fluttery, water was starting to cloud his eyes. If he pulled that trigger, the deer would fall. Fall like the bird did from the sky. All sense of life gone, motionless, its insides spilling out onto the earth. 

“What’s taking so long? Pull the trigger!” Steve whispered impatiently. It was annoying, Nick knew he just wanted his turn. 

“It’s okay, son, just squeeze your finger…” 

But Nick’s finger began to shake instead of squeeze, and he lowered the gun, shaking his head. 

“I can’t,” he whispered to his father in a strangled voice. 

“Figures,” Steve scoffed, and raised his gun, pulled the trigger. Cheers and whoops from the distance, intended for Nick, but as he always did, Stevie Stokes stole the spotlight. 

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

He didn’t want to go, not really. It was hyped up by all of his uncles, all of his cousins, but nothing about the “Annual Stokes Hunting Trip” appealed to him in the slightest. He didn’t particularly mind being outdoors, but couldn’t imagine being outside for an entire week, let alone a few hours, surrounded by men who cared about nothing but hunting down innocent animals, ending lives, drinking beer and “bonding.”

“I wanna gooooooo,” Madison whined, tugging at Nick’s shirt. 

“I toldja, sweetheart, it’s for boy’s only,” Nick replied, brushing her hair with his hand. “Don’t you want to go shopping with Aunt Catherine and Aunt Sara?”

“Yeah, but...Why can’t we all go together? You always talk about seeing all of the amimals!” 

“Animals,” Parker corrected his sister. Her childish mispronunciation always irked him. “Besides, we’re just gonna kill them, anyway, Uncle Stevie said so.”

“That’s not true, Park, we’ve been over this, buddy,” Nick started in a stern tone. Parker’s nostrils flared, lips twisted into a daring smile. Maybe if he got just a little more under his father’s skin, he wouldn’t have to go on this stupid trip. “I tend to stray off the beaten path on these trips…”

A knock at the door, and just when Parker thought things couldn’t get worse, he showed up. Madison seemed to forget about begging and ran to the door with a loud, eager gasp. 

“ELI!” she screamed, thrusting the door open and hugging Eli Brown, as he dropped his bags. 

“My, my, little Miss Madison! You grow an inch taller every time I see you,” Eli remarked, twirling the little girl in a hug. “You might even grow taller than Uncle Nick.”

“At this rate, it’s gonna be you who’s taller than me, Eli. You’re gettin’ to be as tall as your Dad was,” Nick chuckled, shaking Eli’s free hand. “Safe drive?”

“Of course, yeah, yeah. Mom says hello, and thanks, for getting me out of her hair for the week.”

“Causing trouble for your Mom again? Eli!” Nick scoffed in mock disappointment. 

Parker rolled his eyes. His dad always fawned all over Eli. An entire week of hearing Nick talk about how great Eli is, how much he reminds him of his dad, how he’s so proud of the man he’s becoming…

“Speaking of troublemakers, where is he?” Eli asked, he bent over the couch, loomed above Parker’s head, as Parker continued to focus on his GameBoy. “Yo, earth to Park.”

He didn’t have an older brother, but if it was anything like this, he didn’t want one anyway.

“Hi, Eli,” Parker responded in an uninterested monotone. 

“Alright, you ready boys? Sam! Where are ya, c’mon, boy!” Nick whistled. The grey-haired German Shepherd trotted into the room, nuzzled his hand under Madison’s head.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Madison cooed to him, rubbing his head. 

“I told you sweetie, it’s just for a week--”

“I was talking to Sam, I’m mad at you, Daddy!” Madison pouted, crossing her arms.

Nick just laughed, calling his daughter’s bluff. 

“Okay, I love you, too, baby. Have fun with Cath and Sara,” Nick told her, waving Parker and Eli out the door in front of him. He snapped his fingers and Sam broke away from Madison, positioned himself at Nick’s side.

Madison purposefully didn’t look at her father, her eyes closed and lips pursed, but peeked an eye open as Nick began to walk out the door.

“Be careful!” she blurted out, her bottom lip quivering. 

“Careful is my middle name, Maddy. Besides, with Eli, Park and Sam along for the ride, what could possibly go wrong?”

[oceanna1919]

Murphy’s Law (part 2) Bellamy Blake Love Story

20 minutes or so, Bellamy started waking up. I stayed beside him and Olivia was there. Bellamy let out a groan and he sat up, holding the back of his head. Olivia and I sat up too and looked worriedly at Bellamy.

 ‘’ Bellamy are you okay?’’ Olivia asked her brother. He looked at us and said. ‘’Yeah, I feel like someone hit me with a wood or something’’ He said looking confused. ‘’That is exactly what happened Bellamy. Murphy hit you. ‘’ I informed him.  Realisation fell into his eyes. He started walking in the direction off the woods, looking pissed. ‘’I’m going to kill him’’ I stopped him, before he took another step, by putting my hand on his shoulder.

‘’ Bellamy, you need to rest. He hit you pretty hard. I’m going. You need to stay here.’’ He turned to look at me and he put his hands on my shoulder and he looked deep in my eyes. ‘’There is no way you’re going alone, I’m coming with you’’ his voice was so authoritarian. I just nodded. ‘’ I’m coming with you guys.’’ Octavia said.

 ‘’ No, O. you’re not coming with us. You stay here and keep them under control.’’ Bellamy said, pointing at the camp. He took my hand and started walking in the direction to the forest.  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘’ Bellamy my feet are killing me. We have been walking for hours. Can we just take a break? I’m sure that Charlotte is safe with Clarke and Finn. We can take a …’’ Suddenly Bellamy cut me off by shushing me. I was offended.

‘’ Don’t tell me to shush. I’m tired and I want... .’’ Of course he cut me again.

 ‘’ Jasmine, shut up!’’ he yelled whispering and then I heard it. Small footsteps. I looked around me and I saw Charlotte. I hit Bellamy on his shoulder and pointed at Charlotte. He made a signal to keep quiet. He reached Charlotte and he grabbed her. She let out a small cry and Bellamy put his hand on her mouth to shush her. We started walking and Charlotte started to thrust around.

 ‘’Let me go!’’ Charlotte screamed.

‘’ Hey keep it down!’’ I screamed whispering.

‘’ We’re trying to help you’’ Bellamy said.

‘’ I’m not your guys sister. Stop helping me.’’ She said and started running in the opposite direction, screaming Murphy’s name. I grabbed her, kind of roughly.

 ‘’ Are you trying to get us all killed?!’’ I asked her sarcastically. ‘’ Just go okay? I’m the one they want.’’ She said looking at me and Bellamy. I looked sadly at her

 ‘’ Charlotte, there is no way were leaving you.’’ I told her, looking in her eyes. She shook her head and tried to get free again, but Bellamy grabbed her one more time and put her over his shoulder. She let out a scream and started yelling Murphy’s name again. I looked behind me and I saw that Murphy wasn’t so far behind us. Great… Just Freaking great. I turned to Bellamy and pointed behind me.

 ‘’Bellamy we have to run!’’ I yelled. Bellamy looked behind me, his eyes widened and we started running for our lives. We run as fast as we could, but we got stopped by the edge of a cliff. Bellamy put Charlotte down and seconds later, Murphy with his puppies arrived. I put myself in front of Charlotte.

 ‘’Murphy it’s over.’’ I growled at him.

 ‘’ You cannot fight all of us. Just give her up.’’ He smirked, looking mostly at Bellamy. ‘’Maybe not, but I can guarantee ill take a few of you with me’’ Bellamy said, from beside me and I nodded me head.

 ‘’ Murphy just… Just calm down. This is gone wayyyyyy to far, please’’ I begged and I took a step forward, but I regretted it. Murphy captured me and held me against him with a knife against my neck. Bellamy and Charlotte yelled my name, as Clarke and Finn arrived. Clarke looked at the situation I was in and her eyes held anger. She started walking at me, but Finn held her back. Good move Finn.

 ‘’ I like you begging me Angel. ‘’ Murphy whispered in my ears and he sniffed my hair. My blood run cold. What was he doing?

‘’ Let her go Murphy or I will kill you.’’ Bellamy growled at Murphy. ‘’ Move and I will slit her throat.’’ Murphy promised and held the knife harder against me. I gulped. I was really scared. ‘’No, please don’t hurt her’’ Charlotte begged and started crying.

 ‘’ Don’t hurt her? Okay let’s make a deal. I let her go and you’re coming with me.’’ He said, trying to make a deal with her.

‘’ Charlotte, stop, don’t move. Everything is going to be alright.’’ I said smiling sadly at her. That made Murphy to tighten the knife to my throat. I hissed as I felt hot liquid strolling down my throat. Bellamy took a step forward looking angry as hell. He looked really, really, really pissed.

‘’I can’t let any of you get hurt anymore. Not because of me. Not after what I did.’’ Charlotte said looking at me and Bellamy with an apologetic look before jumping off the cliff.

NO NO NO! ‘’NO CHARLOTTE!’’ I screamed and I backhanded Murphy in the gut, not caring anymore if I got hurt in the process and run over the cliff, still screaming Charlotte’s name. Bellamy held me back and I fall into his arms crying. Suddenly Bellamy got up in rage and started beating Murphy. I got up too and tried to stop Bellamy.

 ‘’ Bellamy, stop. You’ll kill him!’’ I screamed at him, as hot tears continued to run down my face. He pushed me with force as he continued beating the shit out of Murphy. I fell onto my butt and Clarke run at me and took me in her arms. I felt as my butt was on fire. I was very glad when Finn, finally snapped out of his trance and went over to pull Bellamy off.

‘’ Get off of me. He deserves to die!’’ Bellamy yelled angrily, struggling to get free.

 ‘’ Bellamy stop. We don’t get to decide who lives and who dies down here!’’ Clarke told him, with me still in her arms.

‘’ So help me God. If you say the people have a right to decide.’’ He growled at her. She got up and she looked guilty. It was kind of her fault.

 ‘’ So I was wrong before, okay? You were right. Sometimes it’s dangerous to tell people the truth. But if were gonna survive down here, we can’t just live by ‘whatever the hell we want. We need rules.’’ Clarke said to Bellamy with a sad look on her face.

‘’ And who makes those rules?’’ I asked quietly, still sitting on the ground. My butt was hurting me to even move. Also, that made Bellamy to look at me. He looked confused as to why I was on the ground. I didn’t look at him.

‘’ For now, we make the rules.’’ Clarke gestured towards her, Bellamy and me.

‘’ So what then? We just take him back and pretend like it never happened?’’ Bellamy asked her, sarcastically.

 ‘’ No. We banish him.’’ Clarke informed us. Bellamy nodded and turned to look at Murphy.

‘’ Get up.’’ Bellamy growled, pulling Murphy to his feet, over to the cliff. ‘’ Bellamy. Stop this.’’ I said trying to get up, but I couldn’t, my butt hurt really bad.

‘’ If I ever catch you near camp, will be back here. Understand?’’ He growled at Murphy and Murphy nodded. ‘’ As for the four of you, you can go back and follow me or go with him and die.’’ Bellamy continued, looking at the four guys who followed Murphy. They, of course chose to go back to camp. Clarke left with Finn and I tried to get up, but I fall down again with a grown. Bellamy looked down at me and helped me up. I hissed in the process.

 ‘’ Are you alright?’’ He asked worriedly. I shook my head and started walking, which made the pain in my ass to grow, great!

 ‘’ What happened to you? Why are you walking as you need to go to the bathroom?’’ He asked and I glared at him.

 ‘’ You pushed me and I fall on my butt, you idiot.’’ I snapped. He looked apologetically at me. He sighed and what he did next, took me by surprise. He took me bridal style and I let out a cry of surprise. He started walking and I put my hands around his neck and I put my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat rising. I smiled at the impact I had on him. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 I woke up in the middle of the night panting. I had a nightmare and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I tried to close my eyes and think at happy things, as my mom had told me, but I couldn’t. The minute I closed my eyes, I was seeing Charlotte’s death over and over again. Also it didn’t help that I was in my tent, which two days ago I shared with Wills. I let out a grown and decided to get up. I was going to sleep with Clarke. As I made my way to her tent I was cursing, ‘because my butt was still on fire. I’m going to slap Bellamy really hard for this. I stopped outside her tent and my eyes widened. I heard moans from two different people, so I decided to change direction. I’m going to sleep in Bellamy’s tent instead. I arrived outside his stent and I heard groans of pleasure, making my heart stop. Is he sleeping with someone? I felt sad and betrayed, but I didn’t know why. I turned around and started walking, when I heard a scream coming from his tent. Quickly, I run inside and I saw Bellamy thrusting around, on his bed. He was having a nightmare. So he was alone in his tent. That made me feel very happy. Why was he moaning though? I ran to him, ignoring the pain on my butt and took his face on my hands.

‘’Bellamy. BELLAMY! It’s just a nightmare’’ I said, making him to wake up. He looked around confused and let a sigh of relief when he saw me.

‘’ You’re alright!’’ he stated looking at me

 ‘’Of course I am. You were having a nightmare.’’ I said with a small smile.

 ‘’ So what are you doing here?’’ He asked me. I took and deep breathe before speaking.

 ‘’ Well I had a nightmare and I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to come to you.’’ I said, without looking in his eyes. He took my face in his hands and made me look at him.

 ‘’Why me?’’ he asked me, while looking at my lips, before looking in my eyes.

‘’ I don’t know. I still don’t like you, don’t get that wrong. But I feel safe with you.’’ I responded honestly with a smile .Well I kind of lied, I liked him, but I didn’t want him to know. He let out a laugh.

 ‘’ Jasmine, what are you going to do if I kiss you?’’ He asked me and he took me by surprise. He wasn’t smirking or anything of this, he just had a peacefully smile on his handsome face.

 ‘’ Well… Ill slap you.’’ I responded while laughing nervously. He laughed and suddenly I felt his soft lips on mine. I didn’t move. At all. Bellamy freaking Blake was kissing me and I loved it. Also that was my first kiss, so i didn't know what to do. When he pulled back I slapped him and he looked confused.

‘’ What was that for.?’’ He asked me while holding his left hand on his cheek, where I slapped him.

 ‘’ I’m true to my words Blake. Also you pushed me and I hurt my butt.’’ I informed him, before taking his head and slamming my lips to his.

[thesecrookedbones-blog]

the collection.

“I think yer book’s makin’ it worse out there, y’know? Girls’re disappearin’ faster than ever. What’re ya even doin’ about it? You think ya can come here with yer fancy education and yer fictional little books. This’s real life, slim. Emily’s a good girl. Comes in all the time gettin’ supplies to keep the neighborhood strays well fed. What’re you gonna do when her body shows up like the rest of ‘em?” Buck’s tenure in Chilling is measured by the way his teeth sit ground deep toward his gum line. His brows sit low against his eyes, like anchors dragging along rebellious eyes that no longer wish to see the pain around him. I know from what city hall records I could find, that Buck has owned this general store since 1983, inheriting it from his father before him. Southern hospitality is only known to the locals, like some kind of localized slang. There was never any welcome wagon for Nora and I. Any words of encouragement actually sound like a shotgun shell being loaded into a sawed off chamber. Or the coarse friction of a knotted noose. “Just the lightbulbs today, Buck. It’ll probably cost me extra for the lecture and I’m short today.” “You think yer so funny, Mr. Typewriter? You come into town an’ just look what you’ve done.” His words hiss past stained yellow teeth, syllables clicking like a slow trotting horse. The teeth were appropriately reminiscent of a horse too - in their prime. Back before the Copenhagen dips and malt liquor sips before sunrise. Behind the halitosis breath is a venom Buck has never spoke to me; something I have been too afraid to mention. His daughter was one of the names on a growing list of the missing, and later deceased. The Collector had left her in a deer carcass bag after collecting his trophy. It was her tattoo from her right shoulder blade, memorializing her mother with bumblebees and sunflowers. Two of her most favorite things. Layla Carpenter. She got inked underage at 17 after her mother lost her battle with breast cancer. It’d been a badge of honor. I could tell it from the way she showed it off in off-shoulder dresses and floppy tank tops. She smiled wider for Polaroids when the tattoo was in the photo with her, like she’d mastered the ‘glance over the shoulder and smile’ pose just to honor her late mom. She’d been missing since 2000. She was The Collector’s first. He kept her the longest. Her body was discovered exactly one week after Nora and I moved in; lakeside nearest our property. Her body melded with the burlap carcass bag, decomposing so harshly that the medical examiner couldn’t tell flesh from bag. Often even after severe decomposition, special wavelengths of light and photographs can enhance ink in any remaining tissue. There was nothing to enhance - but everyone knew The Collector’s calling card. Her tattoo was in his possession. A token of his kill. “Just ring him up, Buck. Fer Pete’s fuckin’ sake.” I nod my appreciation to Todd. He’s one of the few neutrals I have in this town. His eyes betray him in hiding the spark of curiosity I know he feels. He has no pawns; no one on the growing list. Hell, Todd lives alone in the home his parents expired in. He has no one to look after him as he expires and no one to lace his grave with flowers once he’s gone. He has nothing to lose. “Thanks,” I say, tucking the paper bag against my shoulder, though my eyes lock with Todd - the only person who deserves my gratitude. Back at the house, I leave the bag beneath the flood light fixtures that seem to have shoddy wiring. The fixture eats through bulbs at least once a week, somehow feeding too much power while still causing the ominous orb to flicker in and out. I check my watch. School will let out soon and Nora will be home. She’s been bugging me about this light. Any kind of darkness makes her feel uneasy. I can see it in the way every layer of her spine pricks as she rounds a dark corner, helplessly reaching for a lightswitch. Plugging the six-foot wood-runged ladder down beneath the flood light fixture, my shoe centers the rung and haphazardly trusts my weight to it. It flexes but the screws snar and it holds. Gravel sounds behind my back as I twist a fresh bulb in. I’m in a pissing contest with the rest of this town, careful not to show fear or cowardice, so I don’t turn my head. Fingers yo-yo the lightbulb to a tightened position and the footsteps behind me still. I finally sneak a glance.“Yer so fucked.” I don't know him by name, but he's recognizable as one of the local meth addicts. What about him? I try to paint a mental picture of his face and I’m lost in non-distinctive identifiers. Bugged eyes, a toothless grin, sunken cheeks, and clothes that loosely swing off of his bony structure. Is he a suspect? He laughs at me, his hollow soul echoing behind him as he continued on. He's probably hallucinating, I tell myself and finish with the second bulb. The ladder gets returned to the corner filled with dust bunnies in the garage and I discard yet another bulb box. The basement of the home is bunkered beneath ground; a safe haven from tornadoes. It is the only place I trusted my work, given the lack of any natural daylight. It’s the space I get lost in, drawn in like a moth to lamplight. As I descend on creaky, wooden steps, I decide - it’s time to start Emily Marx’s chapter. The latest missing girl. Keys gallop against paper freely, a brainwave on a stroke of genius. The latest victim is fresh in my mind. Bright eyed with a bright future, given the academic records her parents’ failed to share with me. They slammed the door in my face, blaming me for opening this can of demons again. They thought my soul needed saving. They hoped to see me in church on Sunday morning. Her body hasn’t been recovered, but it’s nearing two weeks. I expected her to be the next ink to his collection after 48 hours. Death is the sole consumer in this barren land, its hunger accelerated by demons sworn off by bible verses Sunday morning and ill-will cast against family and friends after a few swigs of whiskey post-service. Blasphemy pulled straight from the bottle. Hours wash away outside without notice. The south has a way of filling your pores with heavy heat and slugging you down, zapping Father Time until seconds rock by slower or the mind’s ability to be conscious of it slips away. Each chapter takes its toll. Another life vanished into the thick air, often in stark daylight. The moment they encounter The Collector, they become another ghost; a wisp of heavy wind to remind us all that Chilling is haunted by a living being. I find myself in the position I often end up in with this book, face curtained with my hands as I count the breaths it takes to make me feel better about it all. I still haven’t found the number. Then it dawns on me. The silence overhead. Usually the kitchen floorboards would creak as Nora dances around the kitchen, preparing another meal without company while I try to figure out the great mystery of Chilling, Missouri. No creaks have sounded above to distract me from proper sentence structure or finding the perfect word that’s just hibernating at my fingertips. No, it’s been oddly silent. I feel uneasy all at once, but disallow panic as I jog up the straining basement stairs. The kitchen is dark, as is the living room, and entryway hall. Upstairs sounds just as quiet, but I run up nonetheless. Nora perfects stability in my schedule, trying to make my life look somewhat normal. She never falters - but I’m the inconsistent one. Maybe I didn’t listen or didn’t remember. She could have parent-teacher conferences. Maybe some kind of after-school tutoring session. Maybe some other after-school activity. I pretend I don’t hear the stress battering through ragged breaths. Where would she be, where could she be? Tires squeal into the school parking lot. It’s empty. Her car is nowhere to be seen, but I still run toward the front doors, truck barely stuck in park. It’s dark inside. Not a soul to be seen. There I stand, in a pained shred of reality. I didn’t even notice she didn’t come home. I check all of the possible spots, and Chilling has a limited selection. The diner, the gas station, the library, the post office, the general store. No sign of her car. I stop outside of the old run-down drive-in that has only been used as vandal grounds for the last decade and find my hands shaky as I dial the sheriff’s department. “My wife - fiancee - is missing.” It’s better not to go to the office in person, I decide. They’ll waste precious minutes vetting me, seeing only an unfriendly face they already suspect to be all kinds of evil. “She - school gets out at 2:30 and she’s usually home by 4 at the latest, depending on what kind of students need help after-school. ...Eleanor Coulson. Yeah. Middle is Winona. She’s - her birthday is June 29, 1986. Look, can you just - I am being calm.” My lip quivers and heat streaks down my cheeks. The speedometer ticks to 65, the big truck’s steering wheel quaking within my palms. "She’s like...5’6” or 5’7” and can’t weigh much more than 100 pounds. She’s small, but she’s mighty.” The sorrow touches the back of my throat and I cough to cover the emotional choke. “No, no scars or tattoos.” It's an identification question, but it feels pointed and my answer washes gooseflesh down my neck. The female voice on the other end of my call drifts into a cavernous hole as my right foot shifts from gas pedal to brake, tires crying against warm pavement. I can hear my heart rattle my skull, vision blurred with thoughts lashing against positivity. The previous girls with their mangled bodies, tattoos sliced from their skin, torture evident in their demise - it all bleeds forward until the female’s voice rises, “hello?” “I - her, her car. I just found it on Highway 26 near milepost 17.” A long pause. “He’s got her.” 6 hours later, I return home after police interrogation. I’m the prime suspect in the tragic story I’ve supposedly created. I sit there in the driver’s seat, hands folded beneath my nose and listen to the waves of fear wash over my knuckles. Within eye line, the flood light surges and flickers, faltering between a vivacious glow and the absorption of death. I watch intently, hoping the light will stay lit. Lightness in the dark - a symbol of hope. But the light hisses and with a dull gurgle, it flickers to black. A tear rims my lower lid. He’s got her. Her life will burn out just like that bulb. Hot air fills the truck, my throat rattling with rage as a low growl precedes the words I will die by if I must: “The collection ends now, you motherfucker.”